“We’ll see,” he said, and he winked out.
I sagged. How was Orkus going to take it? I wondered. One daughter injured and the other possessed of a demon and wandering, off in Shadow. I moved to the foot of the bed and leaned against Mandor’s chair. He reached up with his left hand and squeezed my arm.
“I don’t suppose you learned anything about bone-setting off on that shadow-world, did you?” he inquired.
“Afraid not,” I answered.
“Pity,” he replied. “I’ll just have to wait my turn.”
“We can Trump you somewhere and get it taken care of right away,” I said, reaching for my cards.
“No,” he said. “I want to see things played out here.”
While he was speaking, I noticed that Random seemed engaged in an intense Trump communication. Vialle stood nearby, as if shielding him from the opening in the wall and whatever might emerge therefrom. Dworkin continued to work upon Coral’s face, his body blocking sight of exactly what he was doing.
“Mandor,” I said, “did you know that my mother sent the ty’iga to take care of me?”
“Yes,” he replied. “It told me that when you stepped out of the room. A part of the spell would not permit it to tell you this.”
“Was she just there to protect me, or was she spying on me, too?”
“That I couldn’t tell you. The matter didn’t come up. But it does seem her fears were warranted. You were in danger.”
“You think Dara knew about Jasra and Luke?”
He began to shrug, winced, thought better of it.
“Again, I don’t know for certain. If she did, I can’t answer the next one either: How did she know? Okay?”
“Okay.”
Random completed a conversation, covering a Trump. Then he turned and stared at Vialle for some time. He looked as if he were about to say something, thought better of it, looked away. He looked at me. About then I heard Coral moan, and I looked away, rising.
“A moment, Merlin,” Random said, “before you go rushing off.“
I met his gaze. Whether it was angry or merely curious, I could not tell. The tightening of the brows, the narrowing of the eyes could indicate either.
“Sir?” I said.
He approached, took me by the elbow, and turned me away from the bed, leading me off toward the doorway to the next room.
“Vialle, I’m borrowing your studio for a few moments,” he said.
“Surely,” she replied.
He led me inside and closed the door behind us. Across the room a bust of Gerard had fallen and broken. What appeared to be her current project-a multilimbed sea creature of a sort I’d never seen-occupied a work area at the studio’s far end.
Random turned on me suddenly and searched my face.
“Have you been following the Begma-Kashfa situation?” he asked.
“More or less,” I replied. “Bill briefed me on it the other night. Eregnor and all that.”
“Did he tell you that we were going to bring Kashfa into the Golden Circle and solve the Eregnor problem by recognizing Kashfa’s right to that piece of real estate?”
I didn’t like the way he’d asked that one, and I didn’t want to get Bill in trouble. It had seemed that that matter was still under wraps when we’d spoken. So, “I’m afraid I don’t recall all the details on this stuff,” I said.
“Well, that’s what I planned on doing,” Random told me. “We don’t usually make guarantees like that-the kind that will favor one treaty country at the expense of another-but Arkans, the Duke of Shadburne, kind of had us over a barrel. He was the best possible head of state for our purposes, and I’d paved the way for his taking the throne now that that red-haired bitch is out of the picture. He knew he could lean on me a bit, though -since he’d be taking a chance accepting the throne following a double break in the succession-and he asked for Eregnor, so I gave it to him.”
“I see,” I said, “everything except how this affects me.”
He turned his head and studied me through his left eye.
“The coronation was to be today. In fact, I was going to dress and Trump back for it in a little while…”