Lupi 08 - Death Magic

schemes—one convoluted and subtle, the other brutal but straightforward.
    Maybe it would help to look at what else Friar & Co. had done recently. They’d started by killing Bixton in a crazily complicated way, presumably so they could frame Ruben. That had to be the subtle mind. Then they’d firebombed Fagin’s house and nearly killed him. Straightforward.
    Two minds. Well, Friar had two lieutenants, didn’t he? If she looked at results in order to determine her enemies’ goals, one thing was clear: they wanted Lily out of the Unit, not a cop anymore. Either dead or disgraced worked for that.
    So she had to keep being a cop.
    Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten much in lock-up, and she’d slept for . . . ye gods. It was four thirty in the afternoon. She sprang up from the bed, gave her hair a quick brushing, and double-timed it downstairs. The lights were on down there, holding back the early dusk brought on by the rain. Good smells and voices came from the kitchen, which turned out to be full of people sitting at the table . . . Isen, Pete, the Leidolf Rhej, José . . . and Deborah Brooks.
    “Ah,” Lily said cleverly, stopping in the doorway as five pairs of eyes swung toward her. “Deborah.”
    Deborah’s dimple winked. “You didn’t expect to see me.”
    “No.” And she felt obscurely guilty now. “I guess you wanted to find out more about what happened to Ruben.”
    Deborah nodded, sobering. “Isen and the sera have been telling me about being lupus. About being Rho. What it means, what it will mean. I’m . . . fairly boggled still.” She shrugged. “Also unemployed. Officially I’m on indefinite leave, but from what I’m hearing, I probably won’t be able to go back to teaching in Georgetown. Ruben’s going to have to stay at Wythe Clanhome.”
    Lily crossed to the table and sat beside her. “I’m so sorry. Teaching means a lot to you.”
    “I’ll teach again. It’s what I do, what I love. But not here, I guess.” She sounded sturdy, determined. Her eyes were sad. “And not soon, even though I can’t go to Ruben. That’s what I meant to do. I came here thinking someone would tell me how to find him, but I hadn’t thought it through. If I go to him, I’ll lead the—the authorities there.”
    Isen patted Deborah’s hand. “It’s very strange to think of Ruben Brooks as apart from the authorities, isn’t it? We will work to repair that situation. José,” he said, turning his head, “perhaps you’d go ahead and make your corn bread.” He nodded at Lily. “I made some of my special chili. You like it, I recall, and it’s ready. We weren’t sure when you’d awake, though, so the corn bread isn’t. If you can wait a small bit longer ... but perhaps you don’t wish to. You missed lunch, and the gods only know what they fed you for breakfast in that place.”
    Lily agreed that José’s jalapeño corn bread was worth waiting another “small bit” for. The Rhej pushed back her chair and stood. “May I?” the woman asked.
    “May you—oh. You want to check me out. Sure.”
    José went to the refrigerator and pulled out the milk. The Rhej moved behind her and rested her hands on Lily’s shoulders, humming “Amazing Grace.”
    It took a while, though as usual Lily didn’t feel anything. José had time to mix the corn bread and slide two big pans into the oven before the Rhej spoke. “Your arm is completely healed, aside from a bit of scarring.”
    Lily nodded. That much she knew.
    “The microscopic damage in your brain is healed, too. And the circulation problems that led to it are gone.”
    Grins sprang out around the table. José spun away from the stove with a huge grin. Even Deborah looked happy. Maybe they’d told her what the mantle had been up to before the Lady got it where she wanted it.
    “But this is wonderful!” Isen cried. “Lily, you are no longer angry with our Lady? And not surprised at all to learn about this, I think.”
    She was a great many things, too many to sort into words. But not surprised. “You’ll tell Rule.”
    “Of course.”
    The Rhej squeezed her shoulders before releasing her. She came around and sat next to Lily. She had a broad face, the skin a warm, friendly sort of brown, with beautifully arched brows above dark eyes with thick, stubby lashes, and the kind of smile that made you want to smile back. “You want to talk about it, honey? Because I’d surely like to hear.”
    “About the Lady, you mean?”
    “About