Rook

ushered into the dining room for a hastily cooked dinner, I discreetly asked Ingrid to see what she could find out about Rupert Henderson. She nodded and hurried away while the waiters served beverages. Under the pretense of pushing my chair in, Gestalt quietly asked me if I had received confirmation.
    “What?” I asked.
    “The duck! Have its predictions come true yet?” he asked frantically.
    “Oh, right.” I was suddenly filled with a spirit of pettiness. “I’ve only gotten the answer on one. I won’t have all the answers confirmed until the end of the dessert course.”
    “The dessert course?” Gestalt repeated, aghast.
    “Yes, and one of the questions relates to you,” I added sweetly. He paled. “But don’t let that bother you. After all, if it’s true, then you can’t help but fulfill the prophecy.” He walked unsteadily to his seat.
    Dinner tasted delicious, and I made a mental note to thank the chefs for coping so well with the altered schedule. Gestalt sweated profusely throughout the entire meal.
    Finally, just as we were finishing our raspberry bread-and-butter pudding with drunken fruit ice cream, Sir Henry rose.
    “Ladies and gentlemen, my colleagues and friends. Today is a great day—the culmination of years of effort, research, and tireless fieldwork. I hope that we can all take pride in this accomplishment. It speaks well of our organization that we can summon the strength and dedication to pursue a project for so long, and in the face of so much adversity.” I put my hands up to clap then awkwardly put them down when no one else applauded.
    “Of course, you all know of Rupert Henderson,” he continued as we smiled blankly. “His reputation is enough, I feel, to justify his presence here tonight. Without a doubt, his insights into the future and his knowledge on all matters prophetic warrant his active participation in this great event.”
    We all nodded thoughtfully, although we’d never heard of him before. Ingrid tiptoed behind my chair and placed a sheet of paper in front of me.
    Rook Thomas,
    There’s very little in the files. He was born in Brighton. He is forty-five. Vague murmurings about psychic ability, but nothing concrete enough to warrant his being drafted into the Estate. Nevertheless, he became popular among certain groups in the government and managed to impress some people high up in intelligence. We had no indications that Sir Henry knew him, although Henderson has been consulted several times by other members of Sir Henry’s club.
     
    I thanked her quietly and looked across the table as, with a whisper, Gestalt declined a waiter’s offer of coffee.
That’ll do,
I thought. I caught his eye and gave a significant nod. He froze, cast a worried glance at the waiter, and then looked back at me. I nodded again. He paled.
    Yeah, it kinda sucks when you think your future is written for you, doesn’t it?
I thought. I watched with mild amusement while he made a visible effort to turn his attention back to the speeches, in which Henderson was volubly thanking Sir Henry while touting himself as the greatest psychic ever.
    It was clear that Henderson didn’t know exactly what kind of organization the Checquy was. He seemed to be laboring under the (not entirely inaccurate) assumption that we were involved in military intelligence and had stumbled onto a relic of unsurpassed mystical value. He told us patronizingly that no matter what we might believe, there was more in the world than what we saw on the street. That mysterious forces were all around us, and our mundane assumptions vastly underestimated the supernatural power that existed in the world.
    Incredulous, I looked around. Bishop Alrich was regarding the “psychic expert” with a look of utter contempt and sipping from a glass of red. As I watched, the color of his hair deepened to a darker auburn. Chevalier Eckhart was absentmindedly braiding his cutlery into a plait. Lady Farrier looked as if she wanted to stab Henderson with her dessert fork. With the exception of Sir Henry, who looked as if the Sermon on the Mount had simply been the opening act for this speech, the entire Court looked ready to commit murder.
    “Thank you very much, Master Henderson,” said Sir Henry, clapping pointedly and jolting the rest of us into profoundly unenthusiastic applause.“Master Henderson has confirmed, through his native clairvoyance, that the acquisition is indeed the creature we have sought for so