Rook

know,” the secretary said wearily. “It’s such a difficult time. I’ve been reading up, and the Grafters are the only force that ever came close to
really
defeating us. But they came very, very close. And now suddenly they’re here, and it looks as if they’ve been among us for a long time. Richard Whitlam, did you know him?” Myfanwy shook her head slowly. “Well, the old Rook Thomas would have known him. Everyone knew him. Lovely chap. He was one of Bishop Alrich’s aides for thirty years. Recruited right out of university, and he was always very kind to all the new Retainers. Went out of his way to make us feel welcome.”
    She smiled. “My first day, he came down to the office and gave me a cactus—the one that’s still on my desk. A lovely fellow, really kind, and utterly devoted to the Checquy.” Ingrid sighed. “The news around the office is that at the reception he unsheathed a stiletto made of bone and tried to stab the Bishop.” Ingrid looked at Myfanwy helplessly.
    “If a man like that—a man who watched over a Court member while he slept, a man whose loyalty was never in doubt, a man who was
loved—
can be a Grafter, then I don’t know what we can do. Because, Rook Thomas, I don’t know if the Court members realize this, but
the Grafters already know our secrets.
”
    Myfanwy felt a sudden sense of doom wash over her. Ingrid wasright. In their shock over being attacked at the reception, the Court had failed to look at the big picture. They were afraid their secretaries and cleaning ladies would stab them. But all the secretaries and cleaning ladies needed to do was unlock the front doors and usher the Grafters in.
    Correction: the
rest
of the Grafters, because they were already here.
    “These people aren’t infallible, Ingrid,” Myfanwy said, making a tremendous effort to be calm. “That thing at the reception wasn’t planned. They weren’t prepared for a full insurrection.”
    “You don’t think smuggling weapons into the Apex represents a fair amount of preparation?” Ingrid asked. “They could have killed us all!”
    “Maybe if we were talking about the House of Commons, but this is the Court of the Checquy,” said Myfanwy. “Going up against Eckhart armed with a dagger and a pistol is like going up against a tank armed with a stick of butter. I can’t believe that a centuries-old organization was about to infiltrate us and decided to stage a coup using the equivalent of feather dusters. Maybe they are getting ready for it, and that’s why they had weapons on them. But if they are planning a putsch, then the reception was not the way it was supposed to happen. No, that happened because I outed Gestalt.”
    “So you think Rook Gestalt was behind it all?” asked Ingrid. She perked up a little. “If Gestalt was the head of the Grafter infiltration, then…”
    “Then several centuries haven’t been long enough for the Grafters to develop any talent-spotting abilities. Gestalt is lots of things but nowhere near sophisticated enough to head a coup. I read the files, and I know Gestalt was promoted to the Court for its extraordinary combat abilities.”
    “Of course, and that’s why they also promoted you, to balance him,” said Ingrid, apparently forgetting for the moment that an entirely different person had been promoted. “Everyone knew they needed someone to take care of actually running the Rookery and the domestic operations.”
    “Yes, well, they also needed someone who wouldn’t assert herself in inconvenient ways,” said Myfanwy dryly. “Gestalt let that little tidbit slip while I was wearing my scary face. The Grafters put me on the Court.”
    “One person wouldn’t be enough to get someone promoted to the Court,” said Ingrid. “Not even one person with four bodies.”
    “So what are you saying?” asked Myfanwy with a sinking feeling.
    “I’m saying that there are more Grafter agents in the Court.”

27
     
    R ook Thomas?” Ingrid’s voice came hesitantly through the intercom.
    “Yes?” Myfanwy yelled from her desk, where she was intently working on an analysis of the Grafter investigation and the greater implications of Gestalt’s treachery.
    “Your mobile phone is ringing on my desk, where you left it for me to recharge,” said Ingrid accusingly.
    “Can you answer it, please?” asked Myfanwy, who was aware that this report would be scrutinized by the Courts of two nations and didn’t particularly want it to sound like it was