Rook

the Retainers at the reception the other night. After all, I had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Goblet the other day. So why don’t you tell me a little more about your operation in Bath?” Myfanwy unzipped Gestalt’s mouth and was treated to a string of obscenities.
    She shut him up again. “Charming. And then there’s the alarmingevidence that you’ve been fraternizing with the Grafters. Given the punishments for Checquy officers committing treason, do you want to talk about
that?
”
    Apparently he didn’t, but at least this time there was no swearing. Gestalt did look a bit nauseated, but Myfanwy couldn’t blame him. She’d read up on the penalties for treason and for fraternizing with the Grafters and felt a bit ill just thinking of them. They actually made her threats seem a trifle merciful.
No wonder Gestalt almost strangled Crisp when we caught that first infiltrator,
she thought.
He must have been terrified that the Grafters were about to be exposed.
    “Perhaps,” she mused, “there is the possibility of leniency. If you talk, that is. The Court does not want to see one of its own tortured, let alone undergo the agonies for consorting with the Broederschap. But there cannot be any secrets held back, Gestalt. For instance, where
did
you go for that moment last night?” she wondered. “Some little spiritual bolt-hole? A psychic holiday home? It was foolish of you to do it, because now we know that there’s more to you than meets the eye.”
    “I’m not the only one with a secret,” snapped Gestalt. “Do you think no one noticed that you were affecting people all the way across the room? As I recall, we all thought you had to be touching someone to make them do what you wanted. Not that you were ever supposed to have the guts to do so. That was one of the reasons we worked so hard to get you into the Court!”
    Ah,
thought Myfanwy.
Now we’re getting somewhere.
    “Yes!” crowed Gestalt triumphantly. “Now they know about your powers, and they’ll find out all your secrets when they cut you open!”
    “You wanted me in the Court?” asked Myfanwy.
    “A weak, sniveling little girl who could never look beyond the figures? Of course we wanted you in there. And it wasn’t easy either.”
    “Well, thank heavens you worked so hard,” said Myfanwy. “Now I’m here, and you’re… Well, you’re wearing something that looks like a guinea pig hutch mated with a bear trap.”
    “Not for long. We’ll change places, and then it’ll be you who needs to worry about chain saws. And you’ve only got the one body!”
    “I’m trembling,” sneered Myfanwy with contempt. “Look, I’ve gone all fetal. Only not.”
    “Remember, I am in here, but I’m also out there,” Gestalt said. “Walking free. I could come to your house and have all sorts of fun.” Myfanwy kept her face calm, but inside she felt a stab of fear. Despite all of her predecessor’s warnings, she still kept thinking of Gestalt’s bodies as separate people.
    “It may be that you harbor some dream about overthrowing the Checquy,” said Myfanwy coldly. “Getting your bodies back. Whatever.” There was a sudden hunger in Gestalt’s eyes. “Let me assure you that at the first sign of trouble, I will have these two bodies shot. I’ll do it myself. The only way that Teddy and Robert will see the sky ever again is if you work with me. We’ll talk again. When you’ve had some time to think it over.
    “But,” she cautioned, “think fast, Gestalt. The torturers are putting together their agenda, and they’re aiming to start tomorrow. Time is running out.” She made a little buzz-saw sound and mimed slicing off her own hand at the wrist, raising her eyebrows at Gestalt. At that, fury overtook the twin, and he hurled himself about frantically in his bonds. His eyes locked on Myfanwy’s, and she seized the opportunity to seize him.
    Through one set of eyes, she looked intently at a computer in a darkened room. Her cheek ached dully, and her knuckle smarted. There was a glass of gin in her hand, and a plate of cheese lay on the desk.
    “Get…”
    Through another set of eyes, she slept. An electric blanket soothed her muscles, and soft sheets caressed her skin.
    “… out…”
    Through the third set of eyes, she stared at herself, and felt cold iron around her neck and wrists.
    “… you…”
    Through the fourth set of eyes, she saw a door. She sat on a hard bed, withher knees pulled up to her chest. The lights