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"He confirmed the location of the nest and gave us an approximation of how many werespiders we can expect to be fighting. And he also verified the fact that they have Venus the Moon Child trapped out there. So when we go in, we'll have to be careful, or they'll use him as leverage. If he's still alive."
Camille glanced up at the clock. "Menolly's due to wake any minute. Get everyone out of the kitchen, would you?"
As I herded everyone back into the living room, including Smoky, who had replaced Horace's gag and stuck him back in the closet, Ronyl chose that moment to appear. He was covered with snow but looked proud of himself.
"Spider wards are set up. You should have been out there to see the mass exodus from around your house. I'm not sure how many were actually hobo spiders, but there were several hundred of the creatures in all. Those should hold for a few months. I suggest investing in a fly swatter." He glanced at Trenyth. "All right, we should be getting back."
Trenyth nodded. "Yes, I know enough to tell the Queen what's happening. And I'll contact you through the Whispering Mirror tomorrow to find out how your raid goes."
"You have a lot of faith in us," I said.
He grinned. "That I do. But then again, look at what you've accomplished so far. Have faith in yourself, or you'll handicap your battle."
As he and Ronyl headed out into the growing dusk, I found myself wishing that they'd volunteer to stay and help us fight. But they had a war of their own to cope with. I was shutting the door behind them when Menolly appeared, blinking furiously. Iris and Maggie were right behind her.
"Who have you got locked up in the closet?" she asked. "I can smell his fear a mile away, and it's making me ravenous."
Uh-oh. She needed to feed, that much was obvious, and we had a ready-made TV dinner in the kitchen closet.
"Sit down," Camille said. "We have a lot to go over and not much time."
While Menolly floated up to the top of the Yule tree—she seemed to have taken a shine to hovering by the glittering ornaments—we filled her in on what had gone down, punctuated by her bursts of "I wish I'd been awake!" and "Really, we can use the Whispering Mirror to call the elves now?"
After we finished, she said, "So what do we do with him?"
"I suggest you have yourself a good meal," Trillian said as casually as if he might be suggesting she make herself a roast beef sandwich. I cringed, but Camille nodded.
"That's the best way. We can't trust him. If we lock him up somewhere, chances are he's going to get out and do us damage. He'd sell us out to the highest bidder if he had the chance. We learned that lesson with Wisteria."
They were right, and I knew it, though I still grappled with my conscience. But images of the victims his people had already claimed flashed through my thoughts, and I knew we couldn't afford to let compassion rule in this case. The Hunters Moon Clan wouldn't make that mistake, and they were out for blood.
After a moment, I raised my head. "Menolly, do you need help?"
She shook her head. "No," she said, giving me a look that was almost sorrowful. But a flicker in her eye told me that all of her regret was aimed at me, not for von Spynne. "We're soldiers, Kitten," she said softly. "Just like Father… and sometimes we have to do things we don't want to."
As she headed into the kitchen, I shook it off and turned to Zach. "How long will it take Rhonda to get here?" I said.
"Not long. She should be here soon," he said. "You'll like her, I think."
I wasn't so sure about that. There was the brief sound of a scuffle from the kitchen, and I decided now would be a good time to change. "Time to get dressed for the trip. Camille, you should, too. We're going out into the freezing night. We need to be warm and to blend in. Come on."
She followed me up the stairs. As we reached her floor, she turned. "I know how much this takes out of you," she said. "It wears on me, too."
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. "I just hate that we're mixed up in all this killing. I hate that we can't go home because the same damned thing is happening there, only the stakes aren't quite so high. I hate that our father and aunt are in danger."
"Speaking of family, Trillian told me that the Jakaris priests reported that Shamas—"
"Right, he's dead," I said flatly.
She shook her head. "No! That's what I wanted to tell you. The monks were about to stop his heart when he—and I have no idea how he did this—but he managed to take control of their spell. He used it to… well… to vanish. They don't know if he's alive or dead, and nobody can figure out where he went."
"Holy crap." I stared at her. That was the first good news we'd had in ages. "You don't think he… uh… imploded, do you?" The thought made me queasy, but it was a possibility. Yanking the threads of somebody else's magic away and warping it to work for yourself was risky, at the very best. Then again, he hadn't had much to lose.
Camille grimaced. "That is a distinct possibility. The gods know it would probably happen to me, but to Shamas? He had a lot of power, though I don't recall what specific gifts he inherited from Aunt Olanda and Uncle Tryys. Whatever his powers are, they must be doozies, because he used them to get away. Lethesanar was furious when she found out. Trillian said that his informant told him the scene in the throne room was hideous. The Queen flew into such a rage that three servants and the messenger were dead by the time she was done. She ripped out their hearts."
"Oh, Great Mother." Lethesanar had it in her. We all did—our father's race was not a docile one. But the thought still turned my stomach. "I imagine that's the last time anybody ever volunteers to take bad news to her."
"Yeah, isn't that the truth?" Camille shrugged. "Here's hoping Tanaquar can vanquish her. Let's get moving. I'll dress and meet you downstairs. As soon as Zach's friend gets here, we'll head out. We have to end this. Tonight."
