I leaned back with the rest of my coffee. “Okay, shoot.”
“Dorina.” Her eyes were bright, not with anger, but with excitement. She thought she had me. “Louis-Cesare said that Dorina attacked Efridis as soon as she saw her. Why would she do that if she didn’t recognize her?”
I shrugged. “Maybe because she’d just seen a powerful vargr attack the consul, and there was a powerful vargr, standing right beside the consul? Or maybe . . .”
“Or maybe what?”
“Or maybe she did recognize her, just not from the attack last night. Maybe she recognized her from the attack here.”
Claire stared at me. “You just finished telling me that wasn’t her!”
“No, I said the attack using Ymsi wasn’t her. But that night, there were two of everything: two boys, two battles, and two very different attack styles. Why not two attackers?”
* * *
—
Claire did not like my theory.
No, that’s not right. Claire hated my theory, and I knew why. I just didn’t know what to do about it.
“Is there a problem?” Olfun asked, backing up abruptly when Claire slammed out of the room.
He had a phone in his hand, and it was ringing. But instead of answering it, he hit TALK and then OFF without so much as a pause in between. And then smiled sadly at me.
“My apologies. Reflex.”
I decided not to ask what that meant.
He proffered it to me. It was the house phone. I needed to go get mine from my car, assuming it wasn’t buried under half a ton of rubble, that was.
A blond eyebrow raised. “Want to tell me about it?”
It took me a second to realize that he didn’t mean the phone.
“I have this theory,” I told him, while gathering up my mess, “that maybe we had more than one attacker here the other night.”
“But of course.”
I looked up.
“No one can hold more than one or perhaps two manlikans at once,” he informed me. “For each one, then, there was probably a fey warrior behind it. First creating and then directing it.”
“Okay, but I was talking about the person running things. The mastermind. Which, if we’re talking Earth magic, makes it look like Efridis or Aeslinn was behind the first attack.”
“Why just the first? The king’s sister is a well-known vargr.”
“Which is why I doubt she’d attack that way.”
Both eyebrows went up. “That is something to think about.”
“Yes, but Claire doesn’t want to think about it.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “Can’t say I blame her.”
Olfun took the tray, which won him a raised brow in return.
“I am not allowed to help?” he asked.
“I was under the impression that that sort of thing was beneath your dignity.”
“Some might think so,” he agreed gravely. “I think you saved our lord’s grandson and heir, almost on your own, a few nights ago. While we took more than three minutes to wake up and assist.” His lips twisted. “Perhaps you should carry the sword and I wear the apron.”
“I don’t wear an apron. Ruins the tough-chick look.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“You’re serious,” I realized.
“Of course. It is a serious matter.”
“You’re upset about three minutes? You guys saved the day!”
But Olfun shook his head. “Our performance was no less than shameful. I think it is why Reiearr challenged you. He wished to regain some of his honor.” He smiled slightly. “You were kind not to make him rue it.”
It had looked like he was ruing it plenty to me, but I decided to emulate dear old Dad for once, and not say so. “He didn’t lose any honor,” I said instead. “Neither did you. Most people would be proud of that response time—”
“Would you be?”
“That’s different. I was already here.”
“As we should have been. We should have been sleeping in the halls with our weapons beside us. Instead, we were treating this as a holiday, a chance to enjoy some of the human world without a mission to distract us. And all the while, we knew the risks.”
“You mean Efridis.”
“Not just Queen Efridis. There are many at court who would be happy enough had the attack succeeded. Particularly now, with the Ice Prince separating himself from some of his father’s . . . eccentricities. Fear of the gods’ return was the main obstacle to many people supporting his claim to the combined throne. Now that they have reason to believe he would not follow in his father’s footsteps, fewer have cause to prefer a child with mixed blood to one of pure, highborn heritage. Particularly when times are so troubled, and the child is young and untested, while Prince ?subrand is a renowned warrior.”
I scowled. “Yeah. That’s why Claire left court. Someone killed Aiden’s nurse and tried to kill him, so she took him and ran.”
He shook his head. “A shameful thing, and in the palace!”
“And still unresolved. That’s why Claire wants so badly for Efridis to be behind it all. If she was responsible for the attack here, and if the one at court was caused by someone in her pay, then everything works out nicely. She’s under guard, with Caedmon sitting on her to make sure she doesn’t flit off somewhere, and Aiden is safe. Or as safe as he’s ever likely to get. If not . . .”
“If not?”
“Then anyone could be behind this. Aeslinn, some of his court, some of your court, somebody else she doesn’t even know about yet. It’s terrifying.”
Only Olfun didn’t seem to think so.
Because he suddenly grinned. Not another of those solemn smiles that never reached the eyes, but a full-on delighted expression that looked strangely goofy on his serious features. I liked it. I just didn’t understand it.
“What?”
“Did you not wonder why it took us so long to respond the other night?” he asked me.
I shrugged. “I told you. I didn’t think it took long at all.”
“Well, I can assure you that it did. But that was not entirely our fault. We should have already been in the house; it is true. But even from the garden, we should have been here within seconds. Except that we couldn’t hear you.”
“Couldn’t hear us?”
He shook his head, and tapped an elongated ear. “We do not usually have that problem. Certainly not with a house being demolished a short distance away, and with the princess screaming out of her bedroom window!”
“Claire was screaming?” I hadn’t noticed. But then, I’d been getting the ever-loving crap kicked out of me at the time.
He nodded. “She was apparently quite loud, yet we did not hear. Our best guess is that a silence spell, and a strong one, was put on the house prior to the attack.”
“Can the fey do that?”
“Oh, yes. So can human mages.”
I frowned. “That doesn’t narrow the field any, Olfun!”
“No, it does not. But that was not my intention with my story.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Go on.”
“I thought you might wonder how our princess managed to get our attention.”
He was back to deadpan, so I knew this was going to be good. “Yes, I would be quite interested in knowing that.”
“She set our tents on fire.”
I burst out laughing. “What?”
He nodded. “From the house. I awoke to a burning hellscape, and dragon fire is not easily doused. I shan’t soon forget it.”
I guessed not. “So where are you sleeping now?”
“She informed us that we could sleep inside from now on, or out in the elements—she cared not. But that we were forbidden to acquire new tents since they appear to affect our hearing.” He hoisted the tray. “I rather pity anyone foolish enough to come after the little prince.”
From your lips to God’s ears, I thought.
And then, as he started to turn away, the phone rang.
He sighed deeply. “I almost forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
“My reason for disturbing you. The guards would collectively like to know if you can please stop him from calling. We sleep inside now, in shifts, and, well . . .” He grimaced. “It must be fifty times today.”
“Get who to stop calling?” I asked, and looked at the phone.
And saw the name on the little view screen.
“You have got to be kidding me!”
Chapter Fifty-three