Fate's Edge

in his eyes. Kaldar nodded.
    Jack took a step back, gathering himself into a tight ball, and jumped five feet in the air. His hand closed about one of the birds. He landed, petted the bird, and opened his hand. The bird took to the air. An amber fire rolled over Jack’s irises. “Sorry. Reflex.”
    George rolled his eyes with a mock sigh and glanced at Morell. “Are you satisfied, my lord?”
    “Completely.”
    The birds circled the room once and shot out into the hallway and through the nearest arch to the blue skies and freedom.
    A good time for a private conversation. Audrey gasped and sagged, slightly limp on her chair.
    Cerise grasped her hand. “Lisetta, Lisetta, are you all right?”
    Morell cleared the distance between them.
    “I feel sick.” Audrey pressed her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
    “Too much excitement,” Cerise said.
    Morell knelt by her. “How can I help?”
    “Is there a place we could move to? Somewhere private with good ventilation?”
    “The atrium.” Morell rose. “Delaver, escort Lady Candra and her companion to the atrium, please. Make sure their needs are tended to.”
     
    FIVE minutes later, they were seated in the atrium. Perched on top of a slender corner tower, the atrium occupied a huge round room with enormous arched windows. An artificial waterfall spilled from the opening in the wall, spreading through the creek bed, gently curving through the room. Fat orange-and-white fish floated above the gray pebbles forming the creek’s bottom. Here and there, exotic plants spread their green leaves from thigh-high flower beds bordered with stone. Garlands of vines wound along the walls, scattered with delicate cream blossoms. The air smelled of flowers.
    Audrey took a place on a white love seat with a soft blue cushion. Cerise settled on a chair next to her, slipping the flower gadget under the nearest shrub. William had remained in the dining room, and the guard sent by Morell stationed himself at the doorway, far enough for their voices not to carry.
    A servant appeared as if by magic, deposited an ice-frosted pitcher of lemonade and two glasses on a table in front of them, and bent double, waiting.
    “Thank you, we’ll serve ourselves. You may go,” Cerise told him.
    The servant departed.
    Cerise watched him go. “Notice how he moves? A trained martial artist. Most of Morell’s staff are very fit. In a household of this size, you’d see some variation: someone will be fat, someone will be small, but no, most of his look like they spend hours at the gym.”
    Audrey gave her a cautious glance.
    “Don’t worry, the dampener is active. Even if they’re listening in by magical means, as long as we don’t raise our voices, they will hear nothing except quiet murmurs.”
    A blue bird flew in through the window and perched on the stone border.
    “About time, George.”
    “It’s a big castle,” George’s soft voice came from the point above the bird.
    Cerise poured two glasses of lemonade. “You had specific instructions from William. All you had to do was stay out of trouble until we came back. What are you doing with Kaldar?”
    She slipped a small packet from her sleeve and gently tapped it above the first glass. Granules of white powder fell into the lemonade. Cerise watched them float to the bottom and moved the glass to Audrey. “No poison.”
    “We decided the best course of action would be to remove ourselves from the house,” George said.
    “Ah.”
    “We stowed away on Kaldar’s wyvern. He didn’t know we were there until we arrived in California.”
    “And this was your brilliant plan to stay out of trouble?”
    “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
    “Which part?” Cerise asked. “The part where you put yourself on a collision course with the Hand, or the part where you complicate a Mirror agent’s life to the point of compromising his mission?”
    The bird didn’t answer.
    “Or maybe it’s the part where your brother-in-law loses his head and tries to bring charges against my cousin for kidnapping you two?”
    “Declan wouldn’t do that,” George said, but he sounded hesitant.
    “I expected this from Jack,” Cerise said. “He gets tunnel vision, although it’s a stretch even for him. But you know better.”
    The bird began cleaning under its wing.
    Cerise sighed. “Do Declan and Rose know where you are?”
    “I imagine they do by now.”
    “How?”
    “Lark was supposed to tell them.”
    “So you even managed