Rook

said Bishop Grantchester quietly from an overstuffed couch. He sat, his tuxedo unrumpled, and looked dangerously calm as he took sips from a martini. “That is an interesting point. We must follow protocol here. Rook Thomas, what were your grounds for that accusation?”
    “My grounds?” echoed Myfanwy incredulously. “What, you think that I accused an innocent man? And that this innocent man led a spontaneous mutiny in the middle of cocktail hour? With weapons that they all just happened to be carrying?
Yes,
I have proof of Gestalt’s treachery, but if we’re going to be sticking to protocol, I don’t think tradition calls for one of the heads of the organization to be eating sausage hors d’oeuvres while I report!” As she finished her rant, she realized that she was shouting, and that everyone was looking at her.
    “It looks as if Rook Thomas grew some teeth to go with that dress,” said Bishop Alrich dryly.
    “What remains of it, anyway,” said Farrier primly. “Still, they both make good points. Rook Thomas,
you
are not on trial here. Nevertheless, we would all like to know exactly what Gestalt has been up to, aside from subverting my secretaries and humiliating us in front of our guests.”
    “And murdering a member of the Court,” said Eckhart. “Or have you forgotten that my brother Chevalier is lying dead in the next room?” No one spoke for a moment, their thoughts on Gubbins’s battered body, which was currently covered with a blood-spattered tablecloth.
    Myfanwy had to think fast. She needed to bring them up to speed, but there were certain things she simply couldn’t risk sharing. So she recounted everything that had happened in Bath and mentioned that an attack had been made on her a week before, which had led to the black eyes. She couldn’t say for certain that the two events were related, but it
did
seem suspicious.
    She also very pointedly avoided mentioning anything about her memory loss.
    “And you think it was Gestalt?” exclaimed Wattleman. “Members of my own Court are trying to have each other murdered?”
    “And succeeding,” pointed out Alrich grimly. “Gubbins is dead, and almost all the Retainers in that room were either killed or treacherous. Or both.” The Bishop was sadly examining his shredded clothes but had not bothered to wash away any of the blood that covered him. Nor had he accepted a drink.
    “Yes! What about that?” said Farrier. “I am highly concerned with the number of Retainers who proved eager and willing to stab me. God, that
any
was willing to do it—well, it is distressing. But so many! Perhaps the remaining Retainers should be escorted out?”
    “Lady Farrier, the fact that these people were willing to put themselves in harm’s way to protect us should serve as proof of their loyalty,” said Myfanwy forcefully. She had no intention of letting anyone take Ingrid away from her. The two of them had found Anthony lying facedown, dead from over twenty stab wounds, his absurd purple tartan stained almost black from all the blood that had been inside him. They’d had a little weep together and had held hands when the party changed rooms.
    “I suppose,” said Farrier dubiously. “They have been searched for weapons, of course?”
    “It’s kind of a moot point now,” said Alrich. “And besides, some of them were storing their weapons internally. I saw at least three Retainers pull knives from pouches in their skin, and I felt a couple of their blows. No normal person would be able to strike with such force.” Myfanwy thought briefly of mentioning her strangler’s peculiarly modified musculature but decided to keep it to herself—she wasn’t keen on drawing anybody’s attention to her new willingness to use her abilities.
    “But surely you screen your Retainers very closely?” Shantay broke in. “The Croatoan’s policy was modeled on yours. No Retainers are powered.”
    “Of course we screen them!” snapped Eckhart. “Inside and out. It’s as thorough an examination as we can make it.”
    “And that’s pretty damn thorough,” muttered the bodyguard with the black eye.
    “Then that must mean later modifications,” said Shantay excitedly. “Deliberate changes to their bodies. But no one can make those sort of modifications. No one except…” She trailed off in horror.
    “The Grafters,” finished Myfanwy. “We have been infiltrated by the Grafters.”
    There was a horrified pause, during which everyone eyed one