Rook

larger.
    Gestalt arrived, all four bodies walking liquidly in step. Much as Myfanwy hated to admit it, they looked impressive. The mind behind them had decided to take advantage of the bodies’ striking similarity and had dressed them identically in a livery of dark blue. Myfanwy studied Eliza, the female and the only one she hadn’t yet seen. She was lovely, with her hair coiled intricately at the back of her head. When the four siblings turned their heads to look at her, Myfanwy tensed, but nothing happened.
    The Lord and Lady arrived and were honored, he resplendent in military uniform and sporting so many medals that they practically constituted body armor, she dressed in a classic evening gown. Everyone chatted politely, and no one stared at Myfanwy’s dress to an extent that could be considered rude. The Retainers moved around carefully, wary of bumping into anybody who might accidentally destroythem. Alrich’s and Myfanwy’s costumes in particular posed difficulties, since they projected out in unexpected ways. Finally, the Croatoan envoys were announced.
    Bishop Morales entered first, flanked by two men, both of whom appeared to be bodybuilders. A little old woman of Mexican descent, she walked with a cane and was dressed in something black and expensive. Myfanwy was called upon to present the Bishop to the heads of the organization. Farrier and Wattleman greeted her formally, and the rest of the Court introduced themselves. Then Shantay entered, looking as marvelous as might be expected, considering she had access to all the boutiques of Rodeo Drive and the kind of figure that, according to some of the Checquy histories, people actually
had
sold their souls to possess.
    Pleasantries were exchanged, and waiters wove through the crowd. Myfanwy had been a little concerned that the ballroom would be decorated as blandly as that hideous boardroom. But it was an enormous space with glittering chandeliers, beautifully sculpted columns, and large arrangements of flowers. The perfect place for a party.
    “We’ll be moving in for dinner in about fifteen minutes, Rook Thomas,” Ingrid whispered to her. Myfanwy nodded her thanks and went back to paying some attention to what one of Eckhart’s Retainers was saying. From there she was sucked into a conversation with Shantay, Gubbins, Wattleman, and Robert Gestalt. The chitchat was painfully polite, with all the participants avoiding any mention of the Grafters and instead making cocktail chatter that she could easily coast her way through. Discussion of the Grafter threat would occur the next day, with a formal agenda and minutes taken. And so Myfanwy spent most of her time eyeing the Gestalt brother warily and wondering what would be the best way to expose Gestalt’s treachery. She’d just decided to have Ingrid make her an appointment with Farrier and Wattleman the next morning when Gubbins suddenly started chirping about the day’s activities.
    “So, Bishop Petoskey, I understand you had quite the adventure today, accompanying Rook Thomas out to one of our manifestation sites.” Shantay caught Myfanwy’s eye and looked a trifle wary, as ifshe wasn’t entirely sure how much she should say. “Of course, it was all perfectly legal, Sir Henry,” Gubbins assured the Lord. “Under the terms of the Sororitas Pact, our American cousins are allowed to attend manifestations.”
    “Indeed,” said Wattleman, not looking particularly pleased at the information. “And whereabouts did you go, Bishop Petoskey?”
    “Oh,” fumbled Shantay, who was the only person besides Myfanwy aware of Gestalt’s apparent betrayal of the Checquy. “Well, it was, um…”
    “Bath, wasn’t it?” prompted Gubbins helpfully.
    “What?” said Gestalt suddenly, looking at Shantay and Myfanwy with narrowed eyes.
    “Oh, yes,” continued Gubbins, cheerfully oblivious to the tension in the air. “Something about a house full of people generating a fungus, wasn’t it? I like to listen in on the transmissions whenever the Barghests go out.”
    Gestalt had gone rigid and then slowly slid one of his hands into his coat. Myfanwy mentally reached out, gently reading his sensations, and realized that the Rook was holding a gun. She took a deep breath and went for it.
    “Rook Gestalt, I accuse you of treason against the Checquy and the United Kingdom of the British Isles!”
    T he entire place fell silent, the conversations dying away as heads whipped around. With lightning reflexes,