Ritual Magic

this.”
    She turned her head to look at him. The dark fans of his lashes hung lower than usual, and she could see brackets down his cheeks. He was exhausted, worried, hurting. Just like her, but somehow he’d found the patience to deal with the damn caterer. She touched his hand to tell him thank you. “I’m going to say no on the Spam. Mother would have a fit, if she was herself. She’s not, so it wouldn’t be any fun.”
    Rule sifted her hair through his fingers. “It’s not a victory if your opponent isn’t fighting back.”
    Her opponent? Huh. Was that how she saw her mother? Lily took another sip of coffee. Not exactly, she decided. Her mother didn’t oppose her so much as want to fix her, or fix her life, or just hold on to the time when Lily was small and things could be fixed. How odd to think no one was trying to fix her now. Odder still to find that, on some level, she missed it. She felt as if she had to pick up the pieces her mother had dropped—plans, quirks, attitudes. As if she could hold on to those pieces now, then hand them back at some point.
    Better be careful of what she held on to. Becoming her own opponent wouldn’t be fun, either. “‘Sparring partner,’” she decided, “fits better than ‘opponent.’ As for Philippe . . . I shouldn’t have fired him. Hung up on him, maybe, when he wouldn’t listen, but firing him didn’t solve anything. I was just . . . Santos didn’t listen, either. I was angry at him, and took it out on the guy who thought the worst news I’d get today would be about passion fruit.”
    “Ah. Yes. I need to discuss Santos with you.” He glanced around the waiting room. It was crowded that afternoon, especially with so many lupi lurking nearby. They’d pretty much claimed this whole side of the room. “Scott, remain here. The rest of you need to wait out of easy earshot.”
    Scott had a quick word with the others. They were hip-deep in guards pulled from both Leidolf and Nokolai to minimize the depletion of fighters at either location. Casey had been allowed to stay as part of the Leidolf contingent in spite of some minor wounds—minor to a lupus, anyway—so he could hear about José the moment they did.
    Santos had not. He’d been sent to the barracks to await judgment.
    Another attack so soon seemed unlikely, but until a few hours ago, they’d have thought dworg were unlikely, too. Unlikely verging on impossible, like opening gates in four places at once. Or flat-out impossible, like creating gates without a node to anchor them.
    Someone had done it, though. Someone had used ley lines to open three gates. He, she, it, or they had used a node for the gate at Nokolai Clanhome—sheer destructive greed on their part, Isen thought, that had led to their defeat. If they’d been willing to settle for just killing him, they could have used a ley line and a smaller gate and sent three or four dworg without needing the node. That might have succeeded. Instead, those twenty-two dworg had had to race down from Little Sister, giving him time to prepare.
    That was an assumption, of course. They knew their enemy had used a node for the gate at Clanhome; they were only guessing about why. Maybe they’d needed a node there because Clanhome was somehow a harder nut to crack, arcanely speaking. Guessing, too, about their enemy’s goal. But that was a strong guess. Four attacks, with three of them on those who held or could hold the Nokolai mantle? The aim seemed clear: destroy the mantle and you destroyed the clan.
    Lily figured the attack on her had been gravy. The Great Bitch knew how to hold a grudge.
    Since reaching the hospital, she had called or been called by several people. Karonski first. He was working the scene with the Big A, and he had a good news, bad news deal to report. Miriam had succeeded in removing the contagion from Officer Crown, which was great news. Crown had even woken up. And screamed, and kept screaming . . . they were keeping him under heavy sedation.
    Then she’d talked to Ruben again. And Li Qin, who said the children—by whom she meant Julia as well as Toby—were frightened but well. And Isen, who told her he’d spoken with the other Rhos and none of the other clans had been attacked. And finally Benedict, who’d answered some of her questions.
    Sam hadn’t hung around to chat after dispatching the two dworg at the hospital, but he had told Benedict a couple of things before he left: That it was impossible to