Ilsa smiled. “’Cause they’d just signed the Principles. Camden had a right to retaliate.”
Aelius pointed at her, white teeth flashing. “Precisely.”
“But why not let Hester deal with the Fortunatae herself?” said Ilsa. “What was in it for him?”
Aelius smiled slowly, eyes sparkling. “It seems you have the measure of this city already. Fisk’s ruthlessness put rebellion in the Heart to rest for seventeen years. He saw a convenient opportunity to flash his teeth at anyone who challenged the way he chose to rule, and bought himself a reputation. And reputation, ah, Ilsa. One wears one’s reputation either as armour or as chains. Remember that.” He chuckled. “It may be that Jupitus Fisk never truly cared for the plight of the Changelings, but the man was one of the best weapons Camden had in her arsenal.”
“Had?” said Ilsa.
Aelius flicked the queen and she toppled over. “He’s dead. He passed in his sleep at a highly respectable age, may the stars keep him. A man named Samuel Lucius has taken control of the Heart. And herein lies our recent problem.”
“Let me guess.” Ilsa reached across the board and picked up the black piece that matched her king. “He’s this fella.”
Aelius spread his hands in a gesture of defeat. “That, even I cannot tell you. Sam Lucius, we might say, is not on the board.”
Ilsa frowned. “What d’you mean?”
“The man is an unknown. He has made vague overtures to continuing the Heart’s alliance with Camden, but when confronted with questions about how he plans to handle the rebels, he has no answers. Perhaps he is simply not the leader Fisk was. Perhaps he lacks the stomach for quashing dissent in the manner of his predecessor. Or” – Aelius leaned back and elegantly crossed one leg over the other – “perhaps the High Sorcerer is no longer the ally Camden needs. It is my ongoing project to find answers. I fear they are growing more pressing by the day.”
Ilsa looked at the chessboard; at the gaping hole next to the king, and the fallen piece in the centre. Sam Lucius might not be on their side, but the mastermind of their opposition – the king across the board – was the Sage. With fewer pieces, Camden needed to make cleverer moves.
“I can teach you, if you like,” said Aelius, watching her. “I wager there’s a sharp chess player in you.”
“P’raps I ought to learn. If it’s such an education. But you ain’t answered my question.” Aelius raised an eyebrow expectantly. “You ain’t explained why Cassia’s with us.”
A mischievous smile spread across his face. “Have I not?”
“Did Cassia work for her grandfather and the Zoo at the same time? Like a go-between?”
“One could say that. But even allies have their differences. It’s a complicated business, this diplomacy lark, and one can never know when one’s comrades are plotting to stab you in the back.”
His light brown eyes brimmed with mischief as he studied Ilsa’s frown and waited, unblinking.
“Cassia’s a spy?” she said eventually, and Aelius’s brows shot up in a show of happy astonishment.
“Well, aren’t you full of pleasant surprises? Your father was just as fiercely shrewd. You must get it from him,” he said, and he tapped the side of his nose.
Ilsa feigned her best shy smile, but she wasn’t fooled by his flattery. She had deduced only what he wanted her to; no more, no less. And if anyone asked about it later, Aelius had never said Cassia was a spy.
She tucked the scrunched-up riddle into her pocket and stood. “This don’t look nothing like diplomacy to me. In the Otherworld London, it’s street gangs what got territories and recruits and a hundred ways to get killed by their enemies. This ain’t nothing but criminal warfare.”
Aelius had no snide answer for that, but she could hear him chuckling as she turned on her heel and went upstairs to bed.
* * *
Ilsa had not closed her bedroom door behind her when a shout went up in the park. Then another. She peeked carefully through the curtains to see torches shining from the park, not far from the garden wall, and they were advancing. Cassia had apparently been roused from her reverie and was forming the wolves into a front line on the lawn; an array of snarling, clawing giant animals ready to defend the Zoo.
Ilsa’s bedroom door swung open. She spun, prepared to defend herself however necessary, but the one who stumbled in and grabbed her by the wrist was Eliot. His feet were bare, and his shirt was wrinkled and open at the collar. Did he sleep in his clothes? She was momentarily distracted by the image of Eliot sprawled across tousled sheets, and before she knew it, they were hurtling down the corridor in the direction of Hester’s chambers.
“It’s the rebels again, ain’t it?”
“There are acolytes with them,” replied Eliot. “It looks like the Docklands have allied with the rebels. The enemy of my enemy, and so on.”
The sounds of fighting were coming from the garden; the raider-assassins had breached the wall. “Where’re we going?”
“Hester’s room. There’s a trick wall with a—”
Ilsa dug in her heels and brought them to a halt. “There’s no way I’m going in no hole in the wall.”
A window broke nearby, and Eliot drew her closer, but Ilsa was more afraid of this plan than another bout
