There were two more visitors after that. The Speaker for the Assembly, a woman whose popularity had been derived from her position as poet laureate many years before, and Father Gylefa, who wasn't quite the head of the rather informal Church of Avlynys. Like Matthew, they wanted to go over coordination and what, exactly, would be said.

"Are you sure you want to do this before Alicia gets here?" asked Father Gylefa, tugging at his cross-and-eye necklace in a familiar nervous gesture.

Matthew gave him a long-suffering look.

Father Gylefa raised his hands. "It would be a reasonable excuse. I stand by what I said about you needing time to process."

"The country can't afford it," said the Speaker. "We only stayed out of the economic crisis the Faroes are having by the skin of our teeth and the efforts of the School of Heroes." She curled her lip. "And I just heard from the First Shadow that we have some billionaire tech mogul trying to bully his way through the flight lockdown."

Danny felt his stomach drop. Vlad. Couldn't he mind his own business for five minutes? The list of things that Danny didn't want was very, very long at this point, but he had the impression that Vlad coming to Avlynys would be explosive one way or another.

(Especially given that harassing a princess was technically still on the books as a capital offense.)

The Speaker looked apologetic, but she continued. "We need a king. Or a queen. And a Secretary, which we can't elect without a monarch. I'm a legislator and advisor, I'm not supposed to be directly receiving spy reports."

"I know," said Matthew. "God and all those gone before help me, but I know."

Father Gylefa patted his shoulder, then looked past him at Danny and Jazz. "Ah," he said, "it has been a while, Danny, Jazz. You've grown." His expression grew a touch colder. "Madeline." Then, frostier still. "Mr. Fenton."

The Church of Avlynys came into being when, upon being given the cover of Henry VIII's founding of the Church of England, the entire archipelago leapt gleefully into open heresy. As such, in addition to being only loosely organized, it was also distinctly heterodox… and had been a staunch opponent of witch trials.

That wasn't to say it didn't have problems and had never, ever, participated in any form of religious oppression (it had, sadly). But it could pull out a very plausible moral high ground now and again.

No one in the family had really approved of Maddie marrying Jack, a ghost hunter. The extensive background check turning up witch hunters in the family tree hadn't helped.

Most of the family had… lost some of their hostility towards Jack over time. Father Gylefa hadn't.

And, unlike the situation with Vlad, Jack was very aware of it.

"Mr. Gylefa," replied Jack with the exact same intonation.

"Haha, yeah," said Danny. "That's us, just shooting up. Maybe we'll beat the family height record, yeah?"

One of their medieval ancestors was supposed to have been seven feet tall, so… that was unlikely. But Danny wasn't sure what else to say.

The Speaker sighed. "I'll go get things started. It won't be long before we call for you, your highnesses, lords and ladies, Mr. Fenton."

Jack watched her go with an expression of resigned offense. From there, Father Gylefa made small talk with the rest of the family while Matthew fretted, Maddie watched silently, and Jack attempted to make friendly overtures.

It was so painful that Danny was almost glad when they were called out into the Assembly Hall, leaving Sophia, Irene and Jack to watch from the doorway.

The huge room resembled an amphitheater in some ways. There were seats in curved tiers around the sides of the room, and in the center was a circular raised dais with a small moat-like channel cut between it and the first rank of seats. The dias had a mosaic map of Avlynys set into it, the nine islands picked out in surprising detail.

The Assembly itself didn't take up all of the seats. In less grim circumstances, the upper ranks would be filled with a wide variety of observers, from schoolchildren, to lobbyists, to would-be politicians, to ordinary citizens there on a whim. Right now, the only observers were local journalists and a singular camera crew.

(Danny hoped that no one he knew back in Amity watched the governmental news channels of tiny nordic countries as a hobby. This was the first time he and Jazz were publicly appearing as part of the royal family, and he hadn't really thought through what that entailed.)

Behind the seats, the walls of the hall were filled with traditional Avlynyse heraldry. The Tree and Pond, nine stars picked out among the curling branches and reflected in the blue-green waters. The Ancestors' Eye, bright green and multiplied. The Nine Sisters, standing on the islands they anthropomorphized like stepping stones. The Hero's Arms, rendered variously as a spear and scroll or a knife and a book.

It was an impressive room. Not as big as parliament, or congress, but still impressive.

Also very intimidating.

The family gathered around the edge of the dais, with Matthew standing tall in the middle of their line.

The Speaker walked out along the walkway to the center of the dais and began to speak. "Hyr, todag, sy folk sal coronyn Mathyw Alfryd sy Bisige yf sy Hys Dyryse Avlynyse, Sunn Ynyse…"

Danny mentally translated for himself: Here, today, the people shall crown Mathyw Alfryd the Diligent of the House of Dyrys of Avlynys, Son of the Isles, Blood of Kings and Heroes. Are there any of the House of Dyrys who would oppose this? One who speaks would call those of the blood to bear witness.

There was a beat of silence.

"Athlyng Yonna Loryn Dyrys Avlynyse, do thou beryn wytnes?"

Lovely thing about Avlynys was that everyone born there had a completely legal English name, and an equally legal Avlynyse name.

Joanna stepped forward, spine ruler-straight, hands clasped in front of herself. "Yn beryn wytnes ekyn sagyn no agyn." I bear witness and say nothing in opposition.

"Athlyng Madlyn Myra Dyrys Avlynyse, do thou beryn wytnes?"

Maddie took her place next to her cousin. "Yn beryn wytnes ekyn sagyn no agyn."

"Ledyn Yugyn Kartyr Dyrys, do thou beryn wytnes?"

Eugene took his place significantly more gingerly. "Yn beryn wytnes ekyn sagyn no agyn."

"Ledyn Lwys Theydyr Dyrys, do thou beryn wytnes?"

Lewis nodded before answering. "Yn beryn wytnes ekyn sagyn no agyn."

"Ledyn Irys Yvlyn Dyrys, Ledyn Georg Lyk Dyrys, do thou beryn wytnes?"

The twins moved forward together. Born at the same time, they had the same rank in traditional rituals. "Yn beryn wytnes ekyn sagyn no agyn," they said together.

"Ledyn Leo Alfryd Dyrys, do thou beryn wytnes?"

"Yn beryn wytnes ekyn sagyn no agyn," said Leo, his voice cracking. He looked past Lewis and the twins to where Vivian would usually stand during something like this.

"Ledyn Yazmyn Roz Dyrys, do thou beryn wytnes?"

There was some whispering from the Assembly, but Jazz stepped forward, leaving Danny alone at the edge of the dais except for Matthew, apparently unaffected. "Yn beryn wytnes ekyn sagyn no agyn." She broke protocol by just a hair to look back at Danny.

"Ledyn Dannyl Ymaz Dyrys, do thou beryn wytnes?"

Danny, full of nerves, almost tripped over his own feet, but he managed to reach his assigned place. "Yn beryn wytnes ekyn sagyn no agyn," he said, echoing all the others, but very aware of how American his accent was. What else was he going to say? That he should be declared king?

That was ridiculous.

The Speaker bowed to them, "So, kumyn, Athlyng Mathyw. Syon thy folk."

Matthew walked past them, to the opposite edge of the dias.

"Athlyng Mathyw, wel thou sweryn…" Prince Mathyw, will you swear to your people to serve and defend them, in all ways written in the law, in body and spirit? To lead them in the dark and the light?"

As far as binding oaths went, Danny thought it was simple and elegant. The metaphor might be used by someone being a literal genie like, say, Desiree, but as far as humans went, it was understandable and clear.

"Yn wel sweryn so," replied Matthew.

The Speaker nodded sharply, and called for the Cup of the Oath. The Cupbearer - yes, it was an official position, but it didn't hold all that much responsibility… or at least, it hadn't - hurried in from the wings, holding up the ancient gold goblet. Other aides followed in his wake, moving to distribute more modern glasses among the Assembly.

Danny hardly noticed them, however. His attention was on the furious and frightened-looking ghosts following the Cupbearer. Danny hadn't even noticed when Vivian and Gwensyvyr had slipped away, too caught up with his own nerves, but now…

Vivian flew up into his face, teeth bared, cuts on her skin bleeding pink. Danny looked at her, looked at Gwensyvyr's broad and exaggerated pointing at the goblet, looked at Matthew, who was even now reaching out to take it, reached a conclusion, and made a decision.

"Wait!" he said, stumbling forward, one hand raised. "Stop!"

One of the servers dropped a wineglass. Matthew turned to face him, every inch of his skin drenched in consternation. Maddie grabbed his elbow and dragged him back into line, albeit in the wrong spot.

"Don't," said Maddie, quietly. "You don't want to expose yourself to the pol–"

"I'm probably just being paranoid," said Danny, loudly, clearly, projecting his voice. He tried not to look at the ghosts, more than one of whom had taken on a distinct posture of relief. "But, cousin… Will you test it? Before you drink? Just in case."

The Cupbearer's mouth, already open, dropped even further. "I tested it!" he objected.

"Danny," said Matthew, quietly, clearly trying to salvage the situation. "Dannyl, we've tested everything here dozens of times, after what… happened. It's fine."

The ghosts seemed to think otherwise.

Danny pulled away from Maddie and took a couple quick steps forward, wanting to make his case again - or be in a position to knock away the cup if Matthew suddenly grabbed it - whereupon the Cupbearer threw the contents of the goblet at Danny.

Wine dripped down his face.

Matthew inhaled deeply and pressed his hands together as if praying for patience. Danny wasn't paying too much attention, having noticed something much more disturbing than Matthew reaching the end of his rope.

"Your Majesty," squeaked the Cupbearer. "I'm so sor–"

"Not crowned yet," said Matthew. "Danny–"

"I can't feel my skin," said Danny. Belatedly, he remembered basic lab safety - a common problem in his family, apparently - and started stripping off the clothes that had been soaked by the wine.

"Oh, god," said Maddie, barely audible.

"What?"

"I can't feel my skin," said Danny. "I'm going numb. I can't - ow, heck." Formal clothes were hard to get off when your vision was doing funny things.

"Medics!" snapped Matthew and there was a small commotion that Danny could hear but not see. "Security, arrest this man!"

"Sir, we have to move you to a safer location."

"I will not–"

"Danny–"

"Don't!" Danny told Jazz. "I don't want you to get any of this on you."

"Danny, are you–?"

"Dad, don't!" The words came out slurred. The wine was still on his face, on his hands, dripping and dribbling down his neck. Was it safe to use his clothing to try and wipe it off?

Danny could feel his heart and breathing start to slow. Not to the point where it was dangerous to him, but he didn't like the implications.

"Jazz," he said, "my kit–"

"I'll bring it to you, as soon as I can."

"Sir?" said someone. "My name is Emily, and I'm trained in first aid. If you could turn towards me…"