Chapter Fifty-One

The man's bodyguards looked like frozen rabbits while we assembled in the hall, and the cloak spreading out of its own accord so everyone could get a hand on didn't help. Even Westfield looked a bit spooked. Their problem. Mine was a churning stomach, but in for a cent, in for a dollar. I held Jesse's hand, with Adam holding her shoulder as well as the cloak, and very formally asked the cloak to open the way to the place of its making for me, with Jesse, the President and Secretary, Adam, Charles, Warren, and David as expected and acknowledged guests of Underhill and Prince Gwyn ap Lugh. It gusted roses at me as it opened an arch, and with a final warning not to let go and a count of three, we went.

For once the Garden of Manannán's death hadn't changed, saving the presence of the reception committee. Zee had dropped his glamour — I remembered what he'd said about dispelling radiation itch — but had on a shirt that looked old and hand-made, and bore only one sword at his waist. Edythe still looked like an eight-year-old girl, though, her yo-yo whipping in a complicated figure-of-eight pattern, and Irpa had stuck to her little black dress, the tattoo shaking its skulls and roses at me cheerfully, though she also had a spiked club of appropriate proportions. All had a watchful but not worried air, and I expressed much gladness to Underhill, asking it if we could return Overhill as close to our time of departure as possible, and to the three fae before briefly mentioning those they and it already knew and very carefully, with full names, introducing Jesse, the man, and Sawyer, in that order. They were trying hard not to goggle too much, and did at least remember proper protocol, expressing their own gladness, particularly to Underhill and to Zee for the work at Hanford. He shrugged.

"I have no love for most humans, having known too many, but for that there is no debt. Mercy asked me, and I have no love for pollution either."

Even I wasn't going to thank Zee while we were both Underhill, but I did take his hands and say how glad I was he'd been able to agree to come when we discovered Jesse was going to have to.

"It is not a problem, liebchen." He turned to Jesse. "And it should never have been asked of you. Gwyn ap Lugh has told you your courage has been admired, and it is again."

His glance flickered around David, Warren, and Charles, and settled on Adam.

"She will stay within their perimeter, Adam Hauptman?"

"Unless she wants to be grounded for a century, Dark Smith."

Zee laughed. "Fairly said. It is not a time or place to disobey, Jesse Hauptman, but know I guard you first, as they do."

"Zee says do something, you do it at once, ex-kiddo."

"Oh yeah."

"It is alright, Jesse Hauptman." Irpa's grin was as splendid as ever as she hefted her club. "Troll clubs work on pretty much everything, and I still need you to teach me about hair dye."

The humour settled my stomach — go figure — and I took a breath.

"So, Mr President, Mr Secretary, this is the Garden of Manannán's Death — a surprisingly recent name, but an ancient place." I looked at Edythe, whose yo-yo smacked into her palm. "Did it have a different name before?"

"Everywhere has many names, Mecedes Elf-friend, Daughter of Coyote." Her smile was sly. "None of here's were in English, but one of them might translate from a forerunner of Gaelic as the flowerbed of a god's destiny, which you should think about."

"Prophecy's your department, Edythe, by all accounts. And you have me at a disadvantage in names."

She smiled again. "I know. It's much more fun than the other way round. But this name of yours for here will last a while, so do go on."

However I might sometimes feel that someone should have fed her her yo-yo long ago and it was not my name, I'd meant what I said to the AED about arguing with Gray Lords, and simply nodded.

"Gladly. What matters, Mr President, Mr Secretary, is that this is where Manannán's power was stripped from him, in accordance with Underhill's justice, and the roses were a … consequence, though I don't know why except that I have been told Underhill has always liked them. My cloak was a gift … via them, so you might say it was born here, on Wednesday morning by Overhill time, and when I use it this is where I come. Either the Garden is still discovering what shape it wants to be, or it likes shifting about for its own sake, or Underhill is still trying things out, and the benches with their decorations are still more recent additions, again by Overhill time. But any which way, Mr President, we're really not in Washington anymore, nor yet Kansas."

He looked around, and sighed as he met my gaze.

"You have that right, Ms Hauptman. How … can you tell me anything more about what happened on Wednesday morning … ah, Overhill time."

I thought about it, seeing Edythe cock her head as her yo-yo resumed a complex twirling.

"Not really, sir. I've already told you Manannán mac Lir broke some ancient rules. I can add that one of them is that you cannot be brought Underhill against your will and then threatened with power that wouldn't work Overhill." Edythe's yo-yo snapped into her hand again, and she gave me a look, but I'd worked that one out a while back, because if Manannán could have just squished or drowned me Overhill, he would have. What had prevented him I had no idea, but something had. "Doesn't apply to any of us just now, because we're here voluntarily. I can also say that Manannán's Bane earned its name, Carnwennan very kindly came unbidden to my hand, and as Manannán mac Lir was not, despite the clear evidence, expecting a child of Coyote, he forgot to consider that we tend … metaphorically speaking, to change the odds in our own favour."

Irpa grinned again, and so did Zee.

"Metaphor's a gray area, Mercy, but I wouldn't worry about it today." Irpa's coyote tattoo lolled its tongue at me, before absently eating a rose that swung in front of its mouth. "And the Garden's very nice, but doesn't have much of a view except the roses, even from my height."

I could take a troll hint, and asked Underhill very politely if it would open a way to the seashore where Manannán mac Lir had first tried to kill me. Zee, Edythe, and Irpa all looked interested when a stretch of roses lifted itself into an archway high and wide enough that Irpa wouldn't have to stoop. Beach and sea were clearly visible through it, waves blowing in from a far horizon, and a waft of salt air joined the roses. I expressed my gladness to Underhill again, thinking it really was being very helpful, before turning to the man and Sawyer, both as wide-eyed as owls.

"That's …"

"Also not Kansas, Mr President. Come on."

Adam was with Jesse, inside her perimeter, and Edythe skipped ahead as I led the humans through, enjoying the feel of sand underfoot and the bracing air. Edythe's yo-yo had disappeared and she was clearly alert but didn't seem worried at all, and Irpa had gone as far as the water's edge, dabbling her painted toes, so I let the man and Sawyer gaze out over the water for a moment before speaking so Jesse could also hear.

"I imagine you now understand, Mr President, why, when Prince Gwyn ap Lugh allowed me to speak to you of Underhill, it was this sea I told you about — as best I understand it, of earth, but not on earth, and surely no mortal place. Even Medicine Wolf says Underhill is all somewhere else, having only a doorway in the Columbia Basin, though Walla Walla is geographically nearly central. In recognising the Fae's independence, you would concede nothing, and relinquish nothing. And you already know that no human force or technology is of the least use here."

He was still looking out to the horizon, face wondering, but nodded slowly. "I do, Ms Hauptman. Westfield relayed your line about shooting earthquakes, and it's unarguable. You're also right that it'll be easier to say what I can swear personally to know to be true." He looked at me. "Do you know what's beyond the horizon?"

"I have no idea, Mr President. Edythe?"

"Another one, probably. Or the ends of rainbows and pots of gold. It varies." She had her yo-yo out again, doing slow sleepers, and gave us a sly glance. "Storms often enough, though without Manannán perhaps it'll become less like the Muir Meann."

I gave her a look but it was Zee who spoke.

"You would call it the Irish Sea, Mercy. He called it the Manx Sea. This one is calmer now he and his rage are gone, but I do not think it will change much in other ways."

"Huh. Glad to know it, Zee. And time to head back, Mr President, Mr Secretary. For mortals lingering here isn't a good idea."

"True enough, Mercedes Elf-friend, but wait a little more." Edythe's free hand pointed. "The selkies are coming."

I realised belatedly that Irpa's paddle had sent a signal, and knowing where to look I could just see the seal-heads breaking water. There seemed to be a lot more of them than I'd supposed might come.

"The freed are among them, Edythe?"

"They are, escorted by their kin."

"Is there anything you can tell me about what they want?"

"Balance." She shrugged. "They too have the urge to repay kindness with kindness. The stories of selkie aid are rarer than those of stolen skins and web-fingered children, but they exist, and the freed were in no condition to speak to anyone before Nemane brought them here. Gwyn ap Lugh has told them you deny any debt, but they feel what they feel."

So did I, and I stifled alarm that wouldn't help. The gratitude of wolf freed I could cope with, just about, but what do coyotes know about seals? I found Zee giving me a look I recognised, though without his glamour it was a lot more intense.

"Be careful, Mercy."

"Here, always, Zee. I know it's a dangerous thing, but have you any advice about what would be … satisfactory to both sides?"

He also shrugged. "It is you who find balances, liebchen, and now you must find another."

Being Underhill, I suppressed several urges to scream or mutter, and blew out a breath.

"Can they swim in fresh water as well as salt?"

"If they want."

The seals were not far out now, and Adam caught my eye. He wasn't too tense but he wasn't very happy either, and the strong impression I had was that uncertain underwater security was worse than none. I couldn't disagree, but it didn't leave me with much. And some complications I could cut away.

"Mr President, Mr Secretary, this is a matter for me, not for either of you." Yet, because there was one possibility my poor brain had managed to throw up. "Stay back, please, unless I say otherwise."

"How big a problem is this, Ms Hauptman?"

"None at all for you, sir. For me, I don't yet know. Obligations are awkward here. Adam, come with me? You were as involved as I was."

Taking his hand I received a sense of qualified agreement tinged with worry, and we could both feel fae and wolf eyes boring into our backs as we went down the beach to stand by Irpa, her club resting on the sand. The seals were close enough for me to see that they were the bearded variety, and I remembered the lank whiskers I'd glimpsed on some of the fae captives. About fifty yards out most of them pulled up, while three kept on, and though Adam's hand tightened on mine I found I wasn't surprised when a sandbank heaved out of the water just where the waiting seals could belly on to it for a better view. Without looking round I sent Adam an image of the man goggling like Popeye, and felt him relax even though the three were squirming through the shallows, and onto the beach. They looked healthy enough, but as they rolled onto the backs, and their skins split cleanly down the whole length of their bellies, the human forms that rose from them, naked, showed welted scars and weals that we both remembered. There were two men foremost, and a woman with tension in every line of her body behind, and narrow faces with whiskers peered at us as the breeze gusted a strong smell of fish. For a long moment no-one said anything, and I swallowed a sigh, it being only reasonable that seals be as baffled by coyotes as I was by them.

"Selkies dwelling Underhill, we cannot greet you properly for we do not know your names, but I am Mercedes Hauptman, a Daughter of Coyote lately named Elf-friend, and this is my husband and mate, Adam Hauptman, Alpha of the Columbia Basin Pack. I am told by the Gray Lord Edythe that you seek balance, but know that I hold no fae in my debt in any degree, and am glad we could help in aiding you, as we were helped by fae in aiding our own victims of those mortal humans whose just punishment Prince Gwyn ap Lugh has ensured."

One narrow face nodded cautiously, whiskers stirring.

"We hear you, Mercedes Elf-friend, and we see your husband and mate. I am Gair, and these are Amund and Ursilla, of the Selch."

I nodded. "The gift of your names gladdens us, Gair, Amund, and Ursilla of the Selch."

There was a pause before Gair spoke again.

"We saw you wearing the gift of Underhill when Gwyn ap Lugh freed us from our torment in that place, and Nemane told us it was you who told him where we were. She said also that you slew Manannán mac Lir when he sought your death."

What they felt about Manannán I had no idea, so I simply nodded again.

"Nemane speak truly, as always, Gair of the Selch."

"Gwyn ap Lugh says that those of the earth who were enslaved with us will tend your gardens."

"He has told me they are willing to do so, and they will be welcome among us, but there is yet no agreement." I wanted to sigh and time was passing, somewhere. Adam was also uneasy. "Do you and your fellows also wish for such an agreement, Gair of the Selch?"

His feet shifted and he looked down. "Kindness must be repaid with kindness, Mercedes Elf-friend. It is our way."

"I hear you, Gair of the Selch, yet even for Gwyn ap Lugh I will acknowledge no debt between me and any fae. But tell me, if you will, do you know of Medicine Wolf, and the intent to remove the dams from the rivers known Overhill as the Columbia, Snake, and Flathead?"

His head came up again, and cocked slightly as the others also looked at us more intently.

"We do not, Mercedes Elf-friend, but we were dwelling Overhill when we were captured, and know of those rivers and the dams that harm them."

"Know then that Medicine Wolf is an avatar of the Spirit of the River and its basin, reawakened after long sleep, and desires the river's restoration, as Adam and I do. Perhaps you might speak to Gwyn ap Lugh or Edythe of this. Irpa is also aware of these matters, for if a new agreement is made between the Gray Lords and the humans of the United States, it may be that co-operation in this will be one part of the way forward. And in taking away the dams so the rivers may flow freely again, and the fish return, there will be much work that must be done underwater, awkward and expensive for humans to do. I know you of the Selch are of salt water, not fresh, yet perhaps you and your fellows might think on this, for any freely given aid would gladden Adam and me, and others who aided us in freeing you and those enslaved with you."

All three of them were looking at me intently, and after a long moment it was Ursilla who nodded.

"We will do so, Mercedes Elf-friend, and speak to Gwyn ap Lugh. Your kindness will not be forgotten."

"I am glad to hear it, Ursilla of the Selch, and wish you all joy in restored freedom and health. Fare well in the waters."

That seemed to be enough for with three more nods, and returned farewells, they slid back into their skins — which was just as disconcerting as seeing them climb out — and swam back out towards the sandbar, where a selkie colloquy seemed to be starting. Adam squeezed my hand, and Irpa gave us both one of those troll grins.

"You're good at this, Mercy. They'll eat some of those returning fish, though."

"That will be Salmon's business, Irpa, if it happens. Let's go."

What Edythe thought I had no idea, though her gaze was assessing, but Zee, Charles, Warren, and David, who would have heard every word, looked happier, and Jesse, who wouldn't, just looked happy to have seen selkies. Adam let go of my hand and gave Jesse an enquiring look.

"Alright, Jesse?"

"I'm fine, Dad. What was that about?"

"We'll tell you later."

And Overhill, where words didn't weight so much. Jesse nodded, wisely saying nothing, and I turned to the man and Sawyer.

"Mr President, Mr Secretary, I trust the wait was not a burden. We can return Overhill now."

With a lingering glance at the sea, and the seals, they fell in beside me as I headed back for the arch through which the roses could still be seen.

"It was not a burden at all, Ms Hauptman."

I saw both of them swallowing curiosity, and gave them points.

"There were things to interest you, Mr Secretary, but we can discuss them Overhill."

"Of course."

Edythe was skipping ahead of us, yo-yo twirling, and as she went through the arch I saw it slap into her hand. She seemed to stiffen a little also, before turning to look at me.

"Another would greet you, Mercedes Elf-friend, and you alone. Irpa, Dark Smith, see the mortals and wolves into the Garden and stay with them."

I knew without looking that Adam was not at all happy, but I couldn't see much choice, and sent him what reassurance I could. Edythe had sounded wary rather than worried, and the stick was pulsing warmly in my hand while the cloak was rustling with what seemed happiness, so I took a last breath of salt air and walked back into the Garden. Edythe gestured, and I saw one of the benches was occupied by what looked like another young girl, somewhere between Edythe and Jesse in age, and startlingly beautiful. Going a little closer I saw her eyes were all the colours of the roses, understanding bloomed, and I swallowed as she stood and considered me. Simplicity as well as courtesy seemed like very good ideas.

"Greetings, Underhill. Your justice and your welcome make me very glad."

"Greetings, Mercedes Elf-friend, Daughter of Coyote. You have caused much change to please Gwyn ap Lugh, which pleases me. And Manannán mac Lir angered me, for he forgot my laws, as you did not."

"They are still in the stories, Underhill."

"As they should be. And as I exist for all, it also pleases me that you care for all. Those of the Selch will accept your offer of balance."

"I am glad of it, and that you tell me so."

I wanted to like her, but she was no more an innocent than Edythe, and her smile was not a child's.

"You need not worry. I am yet in a giving mood, and the cloak I gave you speaks well of you, as does Manannán's Bane. Gwyn ap Lugh said there was something you would ask of me, if I were willing to give it."

My brain went into overdrive, because the twisting wording was sliding around the fact that it was ap Lugh who had suggested asking for roses, and in doing so had prompted my thought about bringing the man Underhill. His unexpectedly positive response had left me wondering then what else it was he wanted, and the selkies had seemed to fit that bill in a small way, but this made much more sense. Underhill's eyes glinted as she watched me think, and I chose my words very carefully.

"Gwyn ap Lugh spoke to me of roses from this Garden, freely given to be taken Overhill where they would not fade while the one to whom they were given lived. He suggested my stepdaughter Jesse would like one, which is true, and also a mortal woman who has aided us in the events that have happened Overhill in recent days. Her name is Andrea Lafferty, she has always spoken well of the fae, and she would respect and treasure such a gift. But if the … magic that keeps a rose from fading can be … adjusted, it occurs to me also that as the President has been allowed here, by your let and Gwyn ap Lugh's, that he may truly swear his certainty of your existence, and as others will in time hold his office and bear his responsibilities, so it might be wise to give another such gift to the holders of his office, that their certainty might also be aided though they never leave Overhill."

Unexpectedly Underhill laughed and clapped her hands, and though I thought she really was amused by something it was not remotely a comfortable sound.

"Oh you are a clever one. Mortals so rarely remember, and I am glad freely to give the gifts you mention, asking nothing. Your stepdaughter can carry the one for Andrea Lafferty and the President can carry the one for the holders of his office."

Introducing either Jesse or the man was not what I wanted, and Adam wouldn't like it, but there was no arguing and with Edythe skipping alongside looking cheerful again we went across to where the others stood. I noticed that the archway to the sea had gone, and from the look on Charles's face wondered if he was feeling Underhill's presence in a way from which the cloak was shielding me.

"Jesse, Underhill has a gift for you, and one for you to pass on to Andrea. They are given freely, incurring no obligation."

That last was for Adam as much as Jesse, and I tried to send him my thought about what ap Lugh had really wanted. His face stilled and then relaxed a little, and Jesse was looking excited rather than charmed, which eased my own mind.

"Underhill, this is Jesse Hauptman, Adam's daughter and my stepdaughter. Jesse, this is Underhill."

Jesse's brain was still working and she dropped a curtsey.

"Uh, Hello, Underhill. I am very glad you allowed me to visit with the let of Prince Gwyn ap Lugh."

"Hello, Jesse Hauptman. I am glad you came, though the need for you to do so was a human wrong." Underhill reached to the nearest rose, cupping her hands around it for a minute before it detached itself, glowing more brightly on a length of stem. "Keep it in clean water and it will not fade while you live."

Jesse took it with a blinding smile. "I am gladder for your gift, Underhill."

Underhill smiled. "And you heed the warnings of Mercedes, rightly. Do so always."

The process was repeated with a rose for Andrea, and even with tension still singing in my body I couldn't stop a smile at the thought of her likely response. Underhill gave me a look, and I turned, marshalling more words.

"Mr President, you need to listen very carefully. Underhill also has a gift for the holders of your office, to commemorate for you and your successors the certainty of belief this visit has brought you. It too is given freely, and incurs no direct obligation, yet if your negotiations with Prince Gwyn ap Lugh and the Gray Lords lead to a new agreement between the Fae and the United States of America it may be that this gift will serve to represent an absolute obligation upon all to whom, as holders of your office, it will in due time Overhill belong."

The man's face was still, and he nodded.

"That is clear, Ms Hauptman." He swallowed, and offered Underhill something between a very deep nod and a shallow bow, Sawyer echoing him. "I am glad you allowed me and Glen Sawyer to come here, Underhill, and I am willing to receive such a gift, with strong hope for, though no certainty of, better relations between the Fae and the United States of America."

Underhill considered him for a moment and nodded, then crouched to stroke a patch of earth with one finger. Even having seen it before I was fascinated by the eruption of another rose, swarming with tiny blooms in every colour, and even more so when Underhill lifted it free with an earthenware pot already holding the roots. My alarm-bell jangled.

"Does the pot make this gift a fae artefact, Underhill?"

"It does, Mercedes, but the only magic held by the pot is to sustain the roses through the succession of those holding this mortal's office. You and he have my word on it."

"I am very glad of it."

"As you and he should be." Underhill looked at the man, holding out the pot, but when he accepted it did not relinquish her grip, and when she spoke again her voice held far more power. "This rose-bush I give to the holders of the Office of the President of the United States of America, that they are assured Underhill is for ever beyond them. It will need to be watered weekly."

She let it go and stepped back, her voice becoming more whimsical.

"I am not sure I quite believe in the United States of America, though. After all, I have never been there. And if Kansas does exist, you are by all accounts welcome to it."

I had to stifle a grin and Irpa didn't bother. I hadn't meant to challenge the Fae to demonstrate their sense of humour, but the results were proving welcome. Underhill looked up at me.

"You and your companions should return Overhill now, Mercedes Elf-friend. You may use the cloak I gifted you as you will, without limit, and may bring with you wolves and avatars, but none other without the let of Gwyn ap Lugh. In the Garden of Manannán's Death none shall harm you or any with you, but take no step outside it without my invitation."

"I hear you, Underhill."

"Yes, you do. So few are still capable. I will be glad to speak with you sometimes, if you will. Sit on any bench here and I will come. Fare you well Overhill."

And she was gone, roses stirring in a gust of wind. Not wanting any further delay I spoke only to the fae.

"Edythe, Irpa, Zee, I am glad of your aid in this, and hope to see you all Overhill later. Mr President, Mr Secretary, everyone, hands on the cloak, please."

Edythe just laughed, yo-yo twirling, but I saw Irpa give me a less than discreet troll's thumbs-up and Zee a smile as everyone shuffled into position. I checked they all had a grip, reminded them not to lose it, asked the cloak to take us back to the hall from which we had departed, gave a count of three, and went, tension draining out of my shoulders. Someone else could take the next president who needed to go Underhill, if it ever happened, and the though threatened a laugh I knew would get out of control. A hall full of agents, Westfield, wolves, and Bran just walking away, who all whirled as we emerged, took care of that, and the senior agent's voice was sharp with anxiety.

"Is there a problem? What happened?"

My brain worked some more, shaking off Underhill.

"There's no problem, Agent. How long have we been gone?"

He stared, and flicked a glance at his watch.

"About eight seconds."

"What?" The man sounded bemused. "But we were there for … I have no idea. Glen?"

"Half-an-hour at least, sir. Maybe more."

My amusement returned, and I asked the cloak to tell Underhill that we appreciated its — her, which was a thought to chew on — timing.

"I've told you before, Mr President. Underhill is as elsewhen as it is elsewhere."

"You have that right, Ms Hauptman. It's else-everything, so far as I can tell."

"What's that you're holding, sir? Give it to me at once."

My amusement left again, and though I didn't consciously do it my voice held power.

"No. You must keep it, Mr President." I faced the Agent. "The rose and its pot are a gift to the holders of his office, not to him personally, Agent, so that no successor need ever seek to visit Underhill again merely to be assured of its existence. Think about that. And by Underhill's formal word the pot holds no magic but what is needed to sustain the roses. Underhill cannot be forsworn, however devious Fae words may be." I turned. "Mr President, I did not foresee this, but you will understand that any Gray Lord has many reasons for choosing any action. Gwyn ap Lugh knows that gift will be all it has been said to be, neither more nor less, but it is also a test. To let the Secret Service x-ray it or whatever as SOP is also to show that you do not trust Underhill's oath. And if you don't trust its word, the Fae will care nothing for your word." Another thought curled into my head. "I'll also speculate, no more, that such a test serves also in part as a punishment of the Director. His fear is respected, but his abuse of Jesse is not, so as he distrusted, needlessly as is now proven, he must now trust, and there is great need."

The man looked down at the roses in his hands, then met my gaze.

"Well, hell. But that's got some logic to it."

"Sir, give that thing—"

"No." My voice echoed in the hall as I swung round again, noticing Bran quirk an eyebrow as the scent of roses thickened and the stick again pulsed warmth in my hand. "Agent, hear me very clearly. Wrest a gift of Underhill from its rightful recipient, and you're in trouble. Wrest that one from the President now, and you will probably prevent any treaty with the Fae. Your SOP will have consequences amounting to wilful diplomatic sabotage that I'd call treason. And for the love of God start thinking. Those roses do not conceal Russian bugs or exploding cigars, and the Fae don't need such things anyway. If they wanted to bug the President's desk they'd need one spell nothing you have would ever even register, and the roses are not it, by Underhill's word. If they wanted him dead, he would be. Go explain it to your Director, and leave the man alone."

To my surprise he spun and went, pulling out a phone, and I heard breaths hiss out.

"Damn. You ever want a job, Ms Hauptman, you've got one. What kind of power was that?"

Bran laughed softly. "That was many kinds of power, Mr President, but also pure Mercy. And though I am still working it out, she is not wrong. Mercy, Underhill spoke to you directly?"

I didn't hesitate, and appreciated the unfolding consequences of trust and its demonstration. Very clever Gwyn ap Lugh.

"Underhill manifested, Bran. Looked like a twelve-year-old girl and really, really wasn't. The roses Jesse has are for her and Andrea, which will be fun. And from their reactions, Edythe, Zee, and Irpa didn't know she'd show up, though I wouldn't bet on Gwyn ap Lugh — he and Underhill have been talking. Or something."

"Probably that makes sense. May I see your gift, Mr President."

After a glance at me the man held it out, not relinquishing it, and Bran came forward, power again crackling as he looked with a lot more than his eyes.

"Mercy is correct that it is free of malice and harm, and yet also a test, Mr President." He leant towards the roses Jesse held, her face alight, and breathed them in before looking back at the man. "I sense magic keenly, and where the gifts Jesse holds will last as long as their recipients' live, the artefact you hold is spelled through the pot to the life of your office. For whatever it is worth, I strongly advise you to heed Mercy's words if you truly want a treaty of any kind with the Fae."

"Huh. Th—no, I am gl—hell, no, we're back. Thank you, Marrok. Holding off the Director's gonna be fun, but I understand what you're telling me." The man rolled his head, neck popping. "And thank you, Ms Hauptman, Mr Hauptman, Miss Hauptman, gentlemen. That was an education, and then some." He looked at his watch. "Amazing. Marrok, I need to let the Director have a swift debrief, but as there's still most of an hour before Medicine Wolf is due, maybe we could sit down together somehere in … ten, maybe? Some of the things you've told me just got a lot clearer."

Bran was back to bland.

"Certainly." He glanced at Charles. "And I would like my own debrief, Mercy, Adam, Jesse, as would Anna. In the kitchen? We could probably all do with some brownies."