Visitors

That evening I attend dinner with Madoc and the family. I have to; I'm not going to risk Birch getting punished. But I leave the children with Birch in our rooms when I go down, and when I sit in my place at Madoc's left, I don't eat a bite.

Sitting ramrod straight, I stare unblinking at Madoc while the silence spreads and grows. Across the table, Cardan raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. Jude, Oriana and Heather all look uncomfortable, but Vivi seems to be fighting down a grin.

Madoc breaks first. "Taryn, won't you eat something?" He passes a board of sliced bread to me.

I don't even look at it. Nor do I look at the other dishes. Nor do I touch my wine. I keep staring at him.

"Wow," I hear Heather whisper to Vivienne. Cardan hides a smirk behind his raised glass. Jude nudges him and gives me a look. I turn my glare at her, unblinking, until she looks away. Then I return to staring at Madoc.

To his credit, he doesn't show much sign of discomfort. If I didn't know him so well, I'd say he was completely unaffected. But I see how his clawed hands twitch. I see the muscle working at his jaw. I keep staring, and I eat not a bite. After all, what's he going to do to me? Sure, he could enchant me into eating, or drag Birch in here and beat him in front of me, but how's that going to look? If he reacts at all, it will only make the situation worse.

"Taryn," Oriana says at last, imploringly, "this isn't helping."

I turn my basilisk gaze on her: oh, well spotted, Oriana. She thins her lips, but doesn't look away.

"There's no point in going hungry," she says softly.

I just shake my head. I will not eat the same table as Madoc, not anymore.

At last, after an interminable period, Madoc stands up, tossing his napkin aside. "Well, Taryn," he grinds out, "it seems you have quite the gift for passive resistance." And with that he's gone.

Almost the minute the door closes behind him, Vivienne bursts out, "Hoo-chee mama!" She slumps back, relaxing now that the awful meal is over. "Wow, Taryn!" She shakes her head, giving a helpless laugh.

Oriana looks at me in concern. "Taryn, what did he say to you this afternoon? What happened?"

I just shake my head. While I was walking down from Madoc's study, I felt his spell take effect: a momentary drag to my steps, a momentary heaviness, as the magic settled on me, binding me to the house. But I managed to get out onto the terrace, where everyone was anxiously awaiting me. They all clustered around me immediately, asking what had happened, but I just shook my head and used my silence to outlast them all, until the questions died away. I concentrated on the children, playing with them until it was time to go indoors again.

"I think we all know what he said," says Jude quietly. She stands up, stretching. "I'm going to bed."

"Me too." Cardan stands up and suddenly turns to me. "I must say, though, Taryn, you're an inspiration to watch. Marvelous, to see the General so worked up. Quite the evening's entertainment." His eyes glint.

"Cardan," Oriana says in a warning tone, and Cardan turns with an elaborate sigh.

"All right, all right, off to bed like a good boy. Good night, Taryn. Say nighty-night to the kids for me."

"Me too," says Jude quietly. "Say good night to them for me." She pauses. "And good night yourself, Taryn."

I nod, giving her a little smile, and watch as she leaves, following Cardan up to bed.

Oriana sighs, shaking her head after them. She rings the bell for the servants and ushers Heather, Vivienne and me out of the dining room. She more or less herds us upstairs, sending Heather and Vivi off to bed before accompanying me to the door of my suite. There she surprises me by kissing me on the forehead. "Taryn," she says in a tiny, warning whisper, "don't go down that road. Hurting yourself won't stop Madoc."

I give her a cold, stony look before sweeping into my suite.

"Hey, Mommy!" Philomel hurtles up. We've got the food for you! she signs, eyes shining.

Good girl. I kneel down to give her a hug. Her bones feel so small beneath my arms, so fragile. I think of Madoc tossing my little girl to the wolves at Court, and feel my heart contract. I just want to grab her and Dogwood and run far, far away.

Dogwood comes up and I give him a hug too before standing up and turning to Ruadh, the hapless footman whose hand I healed, who's just brought up a lovely meal just for me.

"How many times must I do this?" Ruadh demands in a strained whisper.

"As many times as that vile old redcap makes her eat with him," Birch says pleasantly. "If you get caught, just explain," he translates for me.

I beam at him before sitting down at the table, my children at my side, and begin eating. As Oriana said, there's no need for me to hurt myself. I smirk as I put a forkful of meat in my mouth.

The next morning isn't so relaxing.

"Tutor?" Dogwood's wail echoes through our suite. "Tutor? What do we need a tutor for?"

"Yeah," Philomel chimes in. She folds her arms. "We're prisoners here!"

I know, but we're here now, so we may as well take advantage of our opportunities. I gather my sulking children to me, turning away from the breakfast dishes. It'll be all right. Master Noggle is a very good teacher.

Is he? Birch signs abruptly. His mouth is a thin line.

I realize with a pang of guilt that I never asked his opinion about hiring a tutor, even though Dogwood is his son. I guess I'm not used to thinking of Dogwood or Birch that way; in my mind, Dogwood is still my sole responsibility, and I have the right to make all such decisions for him. Yes, very good, I assure Birch. And kind. You can meet him yourself, and decide.

"When's he coming?" Dogwood asks sulkily.

I'm not sure. Oriana is making the arrangements.

"Because we still can't leave the house," Birch says aloud, or, rather, snarls. He casts a dark look at Saxifrage, standing unmoving in the corner.

I nod. But he might make a good ally, Birch.

He raises his crest inquiringly, but waits to ask until the kids are busy playing with their new toys again. What do we need allies for, exactly? He stands close to sign, our hands hidden by our bodies. What did Madoc say to you yesterday? What does he want?

I can't look at him. I'm sorry, Birch. I can't tell you. He said he'd hurt you if I did.

I don't care if he does! Birch signs furiously. Dogwood's my son. I have the right to know.

I shake my head. It's not Dogwood he's concerned with, Birch. I jerk my head ever so slightly toward Philomel.

He sucks in a breath, red eyes widening, crest rising. He casts a glance at the oblivious Philomel—at least, I hope she's oblivious. "Philomel…? He's going to…?"

I lay my finger on my lips, widening my eyes desperately. Don't say it! Don't let on that you know!

He can't be serious! Birch's hands are shaking, making his signing nearly incomprehensible. Philomel as Queen? She's only six!

That's what I told him! He doesn't care, Birch. All he cares about is gaining power. And he…he thinks he owes this to her and to me. That it's Philomel's destiny and we'll be the most powerful family in Faerie.

Birch straightens his shoulders. That's it, he signs determinedly. We have got to get out of here.

We can't, I sign helplessly. Not yet. Behind me, Dogwood raises his voice in a squeal, and another, wholly alien thought occurs to me.

Birch, I sign hesitantly, should I tell Dogwood the truth?

He sucks in a breath, blinking, and I realize that I'm not the only one in the habit of discounting Birch as Dogwood's father. Birch himself looks stunned, as though this idea honestly never occurred to him. I…I don't know, he manages. Give me time to think about it.

I nod, and, reaching over, squeeze his arm gently. Just tell me if you want me to. Or if you want to do it yourself.

I will, he nods, and then there's a knock on the door.

It's Ruadh the footman again, looking more harassed and beleaguered than ever. "Excuse me, Lady Taryn," he says. "But someone is here to see you."

I brighten a little. Master Noggle? Birch translates for me.

"Ah, no, lady." Poor Ruadh shifts from foot to foot. "He forbade me to tell you who he was."

My jaw clenches. Tell Prince Balekin I'm not allowed to see visitors right now. Birch translates, letting out a growl as he says Balekin's name.

"Balekin?" Philomel looks up from animating Lulu in a magical dance. "That prince guy? What's he doing here?"

"My lady, please." Ruadh's looking desperate now. "He said he wasn't leaving until he saw you. He also said he'd have me punished if I didn't bring you back!"

"So ask the General to protect you." Birch snarls, advancing, crest raised and tail lashing. "She's not going to that prince. Not now, not ever. You can tell him that."

"Why not?" Dogwood asks, sounding more curious than frightened.

"Never mind why not," Birch growls. "She's not going to see him, and neither are you. Have the General throw him out."

Ruadh looks shocked. "I couldn't possibly do that!"

"Why not?" Birch rolls his eyes. "That redcap already acts like he rules the world. Let him use all that power of his to good purpose for once in his life."

Philomel looks between Ruadh, Birch and me. "Why's this Balekin prince so bad?" she asks curiously.

He just is, I tell her.

At this point, we're all interrupted by a caroling cry, echoing up the stairway and down the corridor.

"Ah, Balekin! My big brother!"

Philomel brightens. "It's Uncle Cardan!" And before I can stop her, she's zipping out the door, followed closely by Dogwood. Birch and I run after them, Saxifrage and the hapless Ruadh just behind.

Cardan it is, standing at the foot of the stairway to the entryway, lounging ostentatiously against the banister while his older brother paces back and forth below like some enraged panther. I finally catch up to the children and pull them back, motioning us all into the shadows. They shrink back, suddenly cowed and obedient at the sight of Balekin. Birch's crest rises and his tail lashes, but he steps back too.

Saxifrage's hand seeks her sword as she comes into alert. I guess the household guard is aware that Balekin is now the enemy.

"It wasn't you I came to see," Balekin snarls. We can easily see him from where we're hiding, though I don't think he can see us. He looks utterly enraged, eyes sparking, every movement abrupt, brutal with the prospect of violence. The sight makes my stomach clench, my head spin with fear. "Get out of my way, little brother, before I make you!"

"But why are you here?" Cardan asks, with a convincingly innocent, wide-eyed look. "Who are you here to see? If it's the General, I'm afraid he's busy right now, so you'll have to come back later."

"Not him," says Balekin curtly. "Move!" He tries to push past Cardan up the stairs, and I shrink back, clutching the children, heart thudding. Saxifrage and Birch both step forward a little, entering fighting stance.

"But Balekin," Cardan shouts, voice echoing through the hall, "I can't possibly let you in until you at least tell me who you want to see! Maybe I can help you find them. Anyway, shouldn't you be home right now, resting from the journey?"

"I don't need rest. I'm no weakling," Balekin sneers. "Now, out of my way! I want to see Taryn—" He shuts his mouth, flushing as he realizes his mistake.

"Oh, Taryn!" Cardan yells louder than ever. "Well, you should have said so! I could have set you straight right away. I'm afraid Lady Taryn's not receiving visitors at the moment. She's completely exhausted, and Madoc's confined her and the children to the house. Put a spell on Taryn, even. So you'll have to head back home."

"A spell?" Balekin's enraged shout rings off the ceiling.

"What's going on?" Oriana comes in at a side entrance, and starts back as she sees Balekin. "Your Highness…?"

Behind her, I see my sisters and Heather crowding in. As Balekin's head whips around, Cardan makes pleading gestures from behind his back, clutching his hands and grimacing.

Oriana immediately swings into action. "Your Highness!" she coos, giving Balekin that bright Oriana-smile. "You should have told us you were coming. I'm afraid the General has forbidden Taryn any visitors at the moment, but I can host you for the moment—"

"I want to see Lady Taryn," Balekin cuts her off. "And her daughter." At my side, Philomel presses closer, clutching Lulu and trembling. "Go fetch them to me immediately, or I will tell everyone that you turned a Greenbriar prince from your home and that you're keeping your own daughter and grandchildren prisoner."

"Now, Your Highness…" Oriana slinks closer, a pleasantly smiling snake. Behind her, Jude tenses, and I think Vivi prepares a spell. Heather looks grim.

Oriana draws nigh to her victim. "There's no need for such unpleasantness, Your Highness," she says softly. "You've already made a dreadful scene, barging into General Madoc's house like this. How silly you've made yourself look." She clucks softly. "I expect the news will be all over Court in a trice."

Balekin shifts a little, uncomfortably. Jude hides a smirk, and Cardan snickers.

"And think," continues Oriana, oh-so-gently, "how much more terrible it would be if I called the guards and had you thrown out like a common criminal. You can tell everyone of our rudeness, of course—maybe even get a more substantial revenge—but you won't avoid looking an utter fool. The eldest Greenbriar prince, thrown out on his ear like a beggar. At a time like this." She shakes her head sorrowfully. "Think how Dain would describe that to your father. Think how they'd laugh."

Balekin flushes angrily, but doesn't reply.

"But there is another option," Oriana continues in that silky tone. "You can come with me to the parlor, take tea, and pretend we exchanged polite nothings for half an hour before you leave. And never return. That would greatly minimize the spectacle you've just made of yourself. What do you say?"

Balekin glares at her. "Lady Oriana," he grinds out at last, "one day you will go too far."

"That day is not yet, Your Highness, as you know. Now, off you go." She snaps her skirts at him, as though he's a recalcitrant maidservant.

I have to fight down a malicious, gleeful giggle at the look on his face. Oh, Oriana, I love you.

Balekin glares a moment more, before turning on his heel to stalk to the lesser parlor. Oriana pauses just long enough to hiss at Cardan, Heather and my sisters, "Upstairs, now!" before gliding serenely after him.

Beside me, Birch lets out a low whistle. "I have to say, that Oriana's quite something, isn't she?"

"Mommy?" A small hand tugs my skirt, and I look down to Philomel's huge eyes, a wrinkle between her brows. "Why'd Balekin want to see you? And me?"

"Yeah." Dogwood's gaze is uncomfortably shrewd. "Why?"

Perhaps he needed some healing, I sign, avoiding his gaze. Look, here come your aunties!

Up the others come, in a subdued herd. "Taryn! Are you okay?" Jude comes forward, hands held out anxiously.

I nod, and point back down the corridor. The thought that Balekin is taking tea just below us is making my skin crawl, and I do not want to be here when Oriana kicks him out. I shiver a little, thinking of my poor stepmother, locked in the parlor with him. Still, she's certainly capable of outwitting him, and I doubt he'll do her any real harm. Or maybe she'll just leave him all on his own in the parlor for a half hour and pretend later she took tea with him. I smirk as I start herding the kids back to our suite.

"Good job stopping him, Your Highness," Birch says gruffly to Cardan, shaking me from my reverie.

"Oh, I've had years of practice." Cardan waves it off. "Though I have to say, people were awfully slow about coming to the rescue," he adds, glaring back at Jude. "I thought I was going to have to break a window or something!"

"Don't exaggerate, faerie-boy," Jude rolls her eyes. "We came as soon as we heard you yowling like a lost cat."

"Why did Uncle Cardan have to stop him?" Philomel asks. "Why was he here?"

We all exchange glances over her head, even Ruadh, who is still trailing our group, and Saxifrage. "Never mind why, Melly," Vivienne says gently. "He's a very bad man, and you need to stay away from him."

"No." Philomel plants her heels in the carpet, bringing us all to a halt. "I want to know. Why did he want to see us? What makes him bad? I want answers!"

She stares up at us, tears of frustration in her eyes, hands fisted at her sides. Dogwood glares up, too, just as frustrated, just as confused. I kneel down before them both.

Children, listen. Balekin did something very wrong a long time ago, before you were born. I can't tell you what it was—Only too literally.—But you have to trust me when I say that he is a very bad person and we all need to keep away from him.

"You mean he's worse than Madoc?" Dogwood asks, wide-eyed. I hear Vivienne and Cardan both stifle laughter at this, and Jude give a sigh.

Much worse. He's a killer and a madman. So keep away from him and let us keep you safe. Understand? They both nod, huge-eyed, and I hug them. I love you both. Now, let's stay in our rooms until we're sure he's gone, and then we can go outside again.

I stand, and lead the children on back to our suite. Their tiny hands tremble in mine. Behind us, I hear Vivienne murmur, "You're awfully quiet, Heather. What are you thinking?"

"Oh, nothing," Heather murmurs. "Just an idea I've got."

Later, when we're sure Balekin is gone, we head out. The afternoon is sunny, with a refreshing breeze. Birch and I take the children out on the terrace again. I sigh, fidgeting around almost as badly as Dogwood. I'm getting over the exhaustion of the journey, and now I'm starting to ache for exercise. After all, I'm used to tramping all over a forest all day, climbing trees, gathering food, and fleeing predators—not sitting around a mansion.

We need more exercise, I grumble to Saxifrage, with Birch in translation.

"You'll have to take it up with the General," she says indifferently. Behind us, we hear the children's voices raised in excitement as they play a game with their aunts and uncle.

Where is he, then? I haven't seen him all day.

"At Court," she says.

I scowl. At Court, huh? Politicking, I would guess, and for a very specific purpose. I want to hit something.

There's movement from within the house, and Oriana appears, with a familiar figure in tow. "Hello, Taryn. Here's Master Noggle here to see you."

Master Noggle hurries forward. "Hello again, Miss—I mean, Lady Taryn." He bows hastily. "It's good to see you again," he adds, beaming.

I smile at him. School may have been pure hell for me, but that's hardly Noggle's fault, and there's no malice in him. I'm glad you're here. I draw him aside, smiling and nodding at Oriana. These are my children, Philomel and Dogwood.

"Hello, children," he says, nodding at them. They scowl back, standing away.

"We don't want a tutor!" Philomel declares.

"This isn't a question of what you want," says a new voice, and Madoc appears, sliding in like a snake. "It's a question of what's best for you." He smiles at me. "I've given your idea of tutors some thought," he says. "And I've arranged one of my own." He gestures, and Foxfire steps forward. "Master Noggle can give them a foundation in academics. Foxfire will train them in arms."

"What!" cries Philomel.

"Really?" Dogwood looks eager.

"Yes, really," says Madoc, smiling at him. "Foxfire is an excellent swordsman and teacher."

Jude steps forward. "You know, Father, I've already been training them," she says. "I'm happy to continue."

"Foxfire has more experience," Madoc decrees. "And I've made my decision. They can practice with him every afternoon, after lessons with Noggle. Does that suit you, Master Noggle?"

Noggle nods earnestly. "Oh, yes, General, of course." Not even looking at me, the children's mother.

Philomel goes stiff. Her voice rises. "We don't want a tutor!" Her hair starts to glow. "And we don't want him!" she spits at Foxfire. Her hair glows brighter.

Philomel—I start forward, when a sudden shadow falls over the terrace.

Everyone jumps back as something huge swoops overhead. "To your stations!" Madoc yells to the soldiers suddenly swarming out of nowhere. "Are you that out of practice? Saxifrage, take my family indoors!"

"You're not going to let me fight?" Jude yelps as she's herded back toward the door.

"Give it up, Jude! Hold on, kids!" Cardan yanks the children after us and hastily hands me their wrists to grip. Dogwood clings tight but Philomel stares up, spellbound, hair fading as she forgets her rage.

"Look, Mommy," she whispers. "It's a giant bird!"

She's right, I realize as the shadow banks and resolves itself as a gargantuan bird, bigger even than a crag eagle. It looks like an eagle itself, with a dark back and a white stomach. It also has cruelly sharp, huge talons that carve up the gardens as it lands with an enormous crash. So huge that its shadow casts the gardens into shade, it lets out such an enormous yawp that we can feel the vibrations in the terrace, and ruffles its feathers, deafeningly.

"By the unicorn…" Oriana trails forward, staring in hypnotized wonder. "It's a roc."

"A what?" Jude demands, standing tense and obviously wishing she had a weapon.

"The largest bird in Faerie," Oriana says raptly. She peers closer, craning over one of our guardian knights' shoulder. "They live far to the south, usually. They can carry off entire elephants to feed their young, they say." She frowns. "Is that…Is someone getting off of it?"

I squint, looking over Saxifrage's shoulder. Someone is disembarking the roc: a whole string of someones, actually, climbing off the roc's enormous back. One of the distant figures turns to the bird, gesturing. The roc lets out another thunderous cry before taking off again, with a flap of wings that sends near gale-force winds sweeping over us all.

We all watch it disappear, very slowly, into the sky. Even Madoc's too distracted to notice the newcomers—at least at first. Then his gaze snaps back down to his ruined gardens, and the line of faeries trudging up toward the terrace. "Capture them!" he orders brusquely. "And bring them to me."

His soldiers shake off their dazed amazement and stream down the staircase. I want to get to the railing and take a closer look, but Saxifrage won't put down her arm, keeping me and the children penned in the doorframe.

The soldiers are gone for what seems a very long time, but there are no sounds of violence: no shouts, no clang of blades. When they do reappear, they do so in a surprisingly peaceful manner, their swords still sheathed, even as they escort these new visitors up onto the terrace.

My jaw drops as I take them in: a veritable parade of extremely familiar-looking faeries, led by—

"Heartwood!" shouts Philomel happily, and before I can stop her, she's ducking under Saxifrage's arm and charging over to throw her arms around the goblin chieftainess.

"Oof!" Heartwood staggers back a little under the impact. "Glad to see you too, Melly." She gives my daughter a warm embrace. Then she looks up, pipe smoke entirely failing to hide the lazy amusement in her eyes. "Where's your brother?"

"I'm here!" Dogwood pipes up beside me.

"What are you doing here, Heartwood?" Birch calls out.

"We're here to rescue you!" Oh, Great Trees, the twins are here too. Alder and Elder snicker and poke each other. "Great Trees," Elder whispers, clearly audible. "Did you ever see such a bunch of stuffed shirts in all your life?" They fall about giggling.

I dare a glance at Madoc. His expression can best be described as…stiff. "Who," he demands, "are you?"

"I'm Heartwood, Chieftainess of the Red Branch tribe of tree goblins." Heartwood shoos Philomel away. She runs back to me, and I hold her tight.

Heartwood breathes a tendril of smoke at Madoc. "You've got a member of my tribe in custody," she says, "along with three other people under our protection. I'm here to negotiate their return."

"Denied," Madoc says immediately. "I had a perfect right to take them: permission from High King Eldred himself, as well as ties of family. These negotiations are at an end."

"Oh, come now," says Heartwood, sidling closer. Madoc doesn't flinch as she breathes smoke into his face. "That's not the only reason we're here. All these faeries—" She gestures at the huddle of frightened-looking forest fey behind her. "—Owe the Lady Healer goods and services for her healing powers. Though, I must say, I'm not entirely sure why these two came," she adds, giving the twins a dirty look. "They neglected to supply me with an excuse."

"Hey, this is the most exciting thing that's happened in decades!" says Alder. He waves energetically. "Hi, Heather! Did you see us land? Did you get a picture?"

"Sorry," Heather calls back. "They took my camera."

Alder and Elder both look outraged. "Meanies!"

"That uniform doesn't suit you, girl," a hob seamstress informs one of the soldiers, giving her outfit a critical glare.

"Where's Albia's laundry?" It's the frog maiden, hopping about anxiously. "I promised her I'd do her laundry."

"And where the nearest body of water?" Bettina the nixie calls out. She scratches frantically. "My skin has never been this dry!"

Madoc steps back, and I can see him measuring the circus developing before his eyes. I have to bite back giggles as Heartwood smiles urbanely up at him before the developing chaos.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather discuss this somewhere more private, General?" she says gently.

"Follow me," he says abruptly. "The rest of you, go wait down in the garden." He turns, leading Heartwood toward the door, while the other forest fey are shepherded down the stairs.

"Great Trees, that's the Grand General?" I distinctly hear one of the twins say. "He looks like he has the world's biggest stick up his—" He breaks off with a cry of pain as one of the soldiers cuffs him around the head. "Ow! You wait, elf! I'll get revenge!"

"Ah, those twins," says Heartwood, dawdling after Madoc. "Ain't nothing stops them. Say, General, aren't you going to include Albia and Birch in our negotiations?"

"They don't get a say," Madoc growls. "Now, do you want your negotiations, or don't you?"

"Oh, very well." Heartwood sails after him, but pauses beside me and Birch. "Are you all right, you two? They haven't hurt you or the kids, have they?"

We're fine, I sign at her. Be careful with Madoc.

She nods grimly and waltzes after my stepfather again. They disappear into the house.

The ensuing silence is broken by Cardan, letting out an incredulous laugh. "That was something!" he chuckles. "That was quite something." He shakes his head, grinning. "You know, I think I really like that goblin Chieftainess."

"She doesn't stand a chance against Madoc," says Jude grimly.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," he snickers. "Madoc isn't used to people who aren't afraid of him. It rather puts him off balance."

I blink at this analysis. He shrugs. "That's just my observation."

"Mommy!" Dogwood and Philomel leap up around me like puppies. "Can we go down to the garden to see everyone, please, please, please?" they clamor.

I glance at the guards, who don't look inclined to be bested twice in one day. I don't think so. A delightful bit of malice occurs to me, and I sign sweetly, They can probably hear you, though. Why don't you go shout down to them, nice and loud?

"Good idea!" They giggle and race to the railing, bawling greetings down at the goblins. They shout back up, a deafening chorus. Master Noggle, standing aside, gapes at the scene in stunned astonishment, and Cardan and Vivienne are both doubled over with laughter.

"That wasn't very nice, Taryn," Oriana murmurs, though she's fighting a smile too.

"Ain't that too bad?" says Birch laconically. He stretches, tail lashing slowly.

I look at Oriana in sudden anxiety as a thought occurs to me. Are you all right? I sign, Birch translating. Did Balekin hurt you at all?

"Oh, no." She shakes her head. "I didn't even exchange any words with him. I just left him all alone in the parlor until he left. Didn't even send in any refreshments." She smiles like a cat, and I smirk back. I should have known Oriana was more than a match for Balekin in that game.

Jude, listening in, raises an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to pay for that?"

"What, you think Prince Balekin Greenbriar wants every single faerie at Court to know that General Madoc's little wife snubbed him and that he nearly got thrown out of the General's house?" Oriana rolls her eyes. "Trust me, he won't retaliate. Not yet, anyway, and not like that."

That's not very reassuring. Still, I have to grin at Oriana, and she grins back.

Birch, Oriana and I head over to Master Noggle. We may as well finish educational negotiations while the children are busy howling over the edge. And—yes—Cardan and Heather have both gone to join them, yelling at the tops of their lungs, and even Jude is hanging over the edge, putting in the occasional call. The guards are all wincing, and I sincerely hope Madoc can hear every word.

Noggle's already collected himself; I guess he's seen it all, after centuries of teaching faerie children. Oriana and I, with Birch in translation, finish negotiations. Noggle will give the children lessons every morning; Oriana blithely promises that Madoc will pay him a generous salary.

"Of course, of course." He bows repeatedly. "We'll get started with lessons tomorrow." He turns to Oriana. "Would you show me to my rooms, Lady Oriana?"

"Of course," she says.

Wait, I sign. What rooms?

Noggle blinks, suddenly uneasy. "It was my understanding that I would live here at the stronghold while teaching your children, Lady Taryn."

"That's right," Oriana confirms. "It'll be safer, Taryn," she adds, giving me a don't start look.

She's right. We can't have Noggle trekking in and out, not when Balekin is probably watching the house. Reluctantly, I nod, curtsying to Noggle's bow.

The children get hoarse throats eventually, and turn to go inside. The others run out of things to say, and wave the forest fey goodbye. Just as Birch and I are ushering the kids through the door, however, Madoc and Heartwood reemerge.

"Ah, Albia," Heartwood says, calm as ever. "Looks like we've got everything sorted for now."

Is he throwing you out? I ask, eyeing Madoc askance.

"He'd better not!" Philomel adds, scowling.

"No, he's not," Heartwood assures her. "He's allowing us all to stay to work off our debts to your mother. He may be sending us around the island himself, now and then," she adds mildly.

I give Madoc a very hard glare: what are you up to this time? He stares back, face unreadable.

"I think your forest friends might be very useful, Taryn," is all he says. Alarm shoots through my chest.

Birch sighs. "You're not allowing any of my tribe to leave, are you?"

"No," says Madoc flatly. "Birch, come with me; I think I need another sign language lesson."

"I was going to help with the children," Birch says, not moving.

"Now, goblin."

Birch gives Madoc a violent look, but lets himself be led off. Watching them go, my heart clenches. Great Trees, I hope they aren't going to come to blows.

Philomel scowls after Madoc. "I hate that redcap! And he's not my grandfather," she adds defiantly.

I glance at Heartwood to see what she makes of this remark, but she just puffs calmly on her pipe. "He told me," she says simply. She eyes me through the smoke. "The Grand General's daughter, Albia? I wouldn't have thought it of you."

I control a wince. I suppose it was too much to hope that Heartwood wouldn't find out. Children, go ask your aunties to take you inside, I say, and watch as they scamper off. The moment they're all gone into the house, I turn to Heartwood. How did you find us?

She pulls me aside, strolling slowly along the perimeter of the terrace. We're alone now except for the guards. "I know everything that goes on in the valley, Albia," she says in a low voice. "Everything. The Grand General and a High Prince invading our valley and kidnapping your family, not to mention Birch, could hardly go unnoticed. I heard about it that very night."

I sigh. They weren't exactly subtle, I agree, and we share a wry, grim chuckle.

"It took us a while to get organized, though," Heartwood continues. "We couldn't face the General directly, unfortunately, and I wanted to gather together all the faeries who owed you debts. The more of us there were, the greater our weight in the negotiations, I felt. Though, really, I wasn't at all sure why the General and Prince Balekin would want you so badly. I thought perhaps one of them was Philomel's father," she adds calmly, casually, like it's something anyone can remark on.

My stomach clenches, and I feel a chill at how close to the truth she's come. Madoc is my stepfather, I sign hurriedly. My heart thuds. Just how much has Madoc told her?

"So he says." Heartwood eyes me, but doesn't push the issue. "Anyway, that roc owed me a favor from long ago, so it was easy to get transport to the islands. So here we came." She shrugs. "I didn't really think he'd give you or Birch your freedom, but at least we're here with you now. We'll work something out."

I am glad of that, I sign truthfully.

"Indeed." She stops now, and faces me. And, hidden from the sight of the guards, she signs.

Tell me, has the General told you yet that he's putting your Lost Heir on the throne?