Rook

weapons. Then, without warning, the Rook began convulsing. Her hands were still locked to the sides of her head and she stayed upright, but it seemed as if every other muscle in the woman’s body was jerking violently. Ingrid stood by helplessly, afraid to touch her in case Rook Thomas’s powers zapped her. Finally, the seizure stopped, and Thomas brought her hands down from her head.
    “All right,” said the Rook, breathing heavily. Her eyes were focused, and she seemed to be much more in control than she had been before.
    “All right?” repeated Ingrid. “All right
what?
What was that?”
    “I did some stuff to my brain,” said Thomas. “Which is something I’ve never done before, and was probably a really bad idea. But I think I’ve got a bit of time before I lose it completely.”
    “Lose what?”
    “All my memories,” said Thomas. “So I’ve got to go. Now. While I still can.”
    “Wait! Don’t forget your jacket,” said Ingrid. “It’s pouring rain out.” The Rook caught her gaze, and the two women smiled at each other, thinking of all the times that Ingrid had reminded her to wear her coat.
    Thomas let Ingrid help her on with the jacket and then began easing herself down through the hatch, but she looked up when Ingrid grasped her wrist.
    “You said you knew who did it,” said Ingrid urgently. “Who did this to you?”
    “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Thomas, her forehead wrinkling. She stared at Ingrid for a moment. “Thanks,” she said awkwardly. “For everything.” Then she turned her attention to the complicated task of negotiating the steps. She disappeared, and the hatch swung down over her.
    Outside, the rain beat down more heavily.
    A nd that was the last I saw of her,” said Ingrid. “I left the office immediately and ran down the fire stairs to the parking garage, got in my car, and picked my daughter up from the station. Then I spentthe entire weekend with the doors and windows locked, waiting for a phone call. Nothing came, so that Monday I went into the Rookery. When you walked in, I didn’t know what to think.”
    “And you didn’t say anything,” Myfanwy said warily.
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “To whom should I have spoken?” asked Ingrid defensively. “To you? I didn’t know what had happened, although the lips and the eyes looked like Rook Thomas’s. She’d said that her memories were going—I thought that maybe you were her, and you’d just lost the past few days. I certainly wasn’t going to say anything to Rook Gestalt. And anything I could have said to the Bishops or the heads of the Checquy would only have led to more problems for Rook Thomas.”
    “And you cared about Myfanwy Thomas that much?” asked Myfanwy.
    “Apparently I did,” said the secretary. There was a strange little pause. “I do.” The two women smiled cautiously at each other.
    “So, she just disappeared down a spiral staircase,” said Myfanwy finally.
    “Yes.”
    “I think I’ll have to check that escape route,” said Myfanwy thoughtfully. “There may be some clues down there as to what happened.”
    “What did happen?” asked Ingrid. “I’ve been dying to know.”
    “Well,” said Myfanwy, who had made a decision. She unclasped her powers around Ingrid, and the older woman slumped a little as her muscles were unlocked. “I opened my eyes and I was standing in the rain…”
    I t was a selective retelling, and all mention of Bronwyn was edited out. Myfanwy was also careful not to reveal how much information had been left behind by her predecessor.
    “So you’re not some plant,” said Ingrid. “In the beginning I was alittle worried that there might be some sort of invasion of the body snatchers happening in the office next door.”
    “And what changed your mind?”
    “No plant would have done such a spectacularly obvious job of not being Rook Thomas. Especially since—let’s face it—she wasn’t that difficult to impersonate. All one would need to do is keep one’s head down and look meek. I was fairly sure within the first four hours of your appearance. I knew for certain at the reception. The Rook Thomas I knew would never have worn the crimson dress. That was why I suggested it.”
    “So do you think anyone else suspects anything?” asked Myfanwy carefully. She had also kept to herself the fact that Farrier knew who she was, and who she wasn’t. Ingrid sighed, and rubbed her eyes.
    “I really don’t