Page 93 of The Hocus Pocus Handbook

Something in their manner makes my dad think twice about pushing for more insight. “No. I’m wild fae. I work in the palace, but I’ve neither an official title nor any protections from reprisal. Lord Liskaal treats us all according to his whim.”

Zeph closes their eyes and lets their head fall back, shoulders easing. “Bless all good and generous spirits.”

“What’s this about?” I ask.

But they lose themself dancing around the fountain with more spontaneity than I imagined they possess. “No stopping us now. Lord Liskaal will never see this coming. His type seeks martial action and military readiness. He’s brutal, not clever.”

“It might be too soon to celebrate,” my dad points out with gentle wisdom.

“You’re quite right. I shouldn’t rejoice prematurely.” Zeph circles back to the front of the fountain and delves into their jacket. “I have papers here for you both. Review them quickly, for they must be filed and legally binding before the quorum begins.”

I take my set of papers while Mudge accepts his, and we skim the pages in silence. Da finishes a little before I do, and he wears a baffled expression. “If I understand aright, you’re authorized to adopt me into the House of Summer, conferring upon me a titled rank. You’re also prepared to recognize Thea as my daughter officially, which grants her that same status.”

Zeph displays a toothy grin. “Precisely.”

“I don’t see how that defeats Lord Liskaal,” I say.

“You wouldn’t. Not yet. But I swear on my life that no harm will come to either of you if you sign these agreements. Indeed, you might even find that doors will open beyond anything you could have imagined.” Desperation laces their tone, reflected twice over in the anxious flutter of their hands.

I suspect they’d promise anything for our compliance. Maybe that’s reason enough to refuse?

“Yeah, I’m right back to ‘if it seems too good to be true’…” I mutter.

“Time is running out,” Zeph says softly. “And I am aware that you don’t trust me. But will you fare better if you take no action and remain vulnerable to Lord Liskaal’s judgment?”

When they put it that way, I swap a look with my dad. “What do you think?”

“I’ve no interest in social climbing, but I will never let Liskaal harm you. According to Erdene, he was ranting about banishment as his hounds tried to hunt you down.” He hesitates. “And if it means you’ll be my daughter on paper and all…well, I want that more than anything. I’d love for official records to reflect what we know in our hearts to be true.”

Tears fill my eyes. “I want that too.”

Everything else is secondary; it doesn’t matter what Zeph is scheming. They’ll use us however they see fit, I have no doubt, but they’re also offering us both a safe haven and formal recognition. It’s enough to make up my mind.

Quickly, I hug Da, then turn to Zeph. “Find a pen. I’m ready to sign.”

42

Resilience Rising

This is a tree, rising from a rocky outcropping, carved into a piece of fallen wood. The tree seems desolate at first, withered beyond all recovery. The trunk is desiccated, and only two branches remain, spreading in opposite directions. There are no leaves on this skeletal framework, and it is impossible to discern what kind of tree it was based on the lines presented. Unlike many works by this artist, this piece has been carefully polished so that the warmly layered colors of the wood grain contrast with the seemingly lifeless subject. In another departure, the work is contained within a box frame, protected behind a layer of translucent crystal. And when one views the piece from the proper angle, a secret reveals itself to the committed or the deeply curious. Though it seems all hope is lost, at the tip of the leftmost branch, there exists the suggestion of a single bud, the promise that renewal hovers at the edge of possibility.

Kerboros

For Govannon and Ragh, I risk communicating with one of Zeph’s crows.

There is a chance someone will realize that I’ve hidden this ability, and I loathe sharing my secrets for free. I’m already itching to set my spiderlings loose to see what I can learn about the quorum, and I have contained myself only because I fear offending Lady Mirralee. Our status is precarious to say the least.

Zeph was correct when they said few speak the language. Crows are endlessly clever, and they’re everywhere, nearly as good as having access to a garrulous water spirit. But any water spirits here would be bound to work toward Autumn’s interests. I doubt Mirralee would be concerned about Ragh and Govannon’s reunion.

Once Lady Crow hears the story, she agrees to carry the note to Ragh in the courtyard near the Toad in the Hole. I will not carry a reply back to you, she caws. This is a favor offered because of all the tasty treats. The one you name, Ragh, has fed my children. I do hope he comes to find his lost love.

“Me too,” I say, making my way back inside the palace through a side entrance.

Suddenly, I feel a bone-deep chill and duck into the nearest doorway. My cousin passes with a ridiculously large entourage while I focus on keeping every hint of my existence scraped to silence. If he spies me, he will immediately call for my execution. And while I did once plan to slip out of this life by pretending to die, I have long since abandoned that aim. Now I have too much to lose, a beloved soul who completes me, though I’ve yet to speak those words to her.

Come to that, I wonder where Thea is. I understand that she and Zeph have some complicated marital matters to unravel, so she may be tending to those issues before the quorum. Delegates have been arriving constantly; Autumn is in an uproar, and they’re running out of room for visiting dignitaries. I slink around the palace, poking into dark corners and listening to gossip. Even now, two brownies who work in the kitchens walk ahead of me, speaking in low tones.

“I heard it from Dainis, who’s in charge of accommodations. Apparently, the Lord and Lady of Winter refused to stay in the quarters they were assigned. They said they were ‘unfit for habitation.’” The brownie mimics Lady Valnevi’s shrill, entitled tones with uncanny accuracy.