The Ghost is up when we return. He had been out and brought back with him a handful of tiny apples, some dried venison, fresh butter, and several dozen more bottles of wine. He’s also brought down a few pieces of furniture I recognize from the palace—a silk-embroidered divan, satin cushions, a shimmering spider-silk throw, and a chalcedony set of tea things.
He looks up from the divan where he is sitting, appearing both tense and exhausted. I think he’s grieving, but not in a human way. “Well? I believe I was promised gold.”
“What if I could promise you revenge?” I ask, conscious once again of the weight of debts already on my shoulders.
He trades a look with the Bomb. “So she really does have a scheme.”
The Bomb settles herself on a cushion. “A secret, which is far better than a scheme.”
I grab an apple, go to the table, and then hoist myself onto it. “We’regoing to walk right into Balekin’s feast and steal his kingdom out from under him. How’s that for vengeance?”
Bold, that’s what I need to be. Like I own the place. Like I am the general’s daughter. Like I can really pull this off.
The corner of the Ghost’s mouth turns up. He takes out four silver cups from the cupboard and sets them before me. “Drink?”
I shake my head, watching him pour. He returns to the divan but rests at the edge as though he’s going to have to jump up in a moment. He takes a big swallow of wine.
“You spoke of the murder of Dain’s unborn child,” I say.
The Ghost nods. “I saw your face when Cardan spoke of Liriope and when you understood my part in it.”
“It surprised me,” I say honestly. “I wanted to think Dain was different.”
Cardan snorts and takes the silver cup that was meant for me as well as his own.
“Murder is a cruel trade,” says the Ghost. “I believe Dain would have been as fair a High King as any prince of the Folk, but my father was mortal. He would not have considered Dain to be good. He would not have considered me good, either. You’d do well to decide how much you care for goodness before you go too far down the road of spycraft.”
He’s probably right, but there’s little time for me to consider it now. “You don’t understand,” I tell him. “Liriope’s child lived.”
He turns to the Bomb, clearly astonished. “That’sthe secret?”
She nods, a little smug. “That’s the scheme.”
The Ghost gives her a long look and then turns his gaze to me. “I don’t want to find a new position. I want to stay here and serve the next High King. So, yes, let’s steal the kingdom.”
“We don’t need to be good,” I tell the Ghost. “But let’s try to be fair. As fair as any prince of Faerie.”
The Ghost smiles.
“And maybe a little fairer,” I say with a look at Cardan.
The Ghost nods. “I’d like that.”
Then he goes to wake the Roach. I have to explain all over again. Once I get to the part about the banquet and what I think is going to happen, the Roach interrupts me so many times I can barely get a sentence out. After I’m done speaking, he removes a roll of vellum and a nibbed pen from one of the cabinets and notes down who ought to be where at what point for the plan to work.
“You’re replanning my plan,” I say.
“Just a little,” he says, licking the nib and beginning to write again. “Are you concerned over Madoc? He won’t like this.”
Of course I am concerned about Madoc. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be doing any of this. I would just hand him the living key to the kingdom.
“I know,” I say, gazing at the dregs of wine in the Ghost’s glass. The moment I walk into the feast with Cardan on my arm, Madoc will know I am running a game of my own. When he discovers that I am going to cheat him out of being regent, he’ll be furious.
And he’s at his most bloodthirsty when he’s furious.
“Do you have something appropriate to wear?” the Roach asks. At my surprised look, he throws up his hands. “You’re playing politics. You and Cardan need to be turned out in splendor for this banquet. Your new king will need everything to look right.”
We go over the plans again, and Cardan helps us map out Hollow Hall. I try not to be too conscious of his long fingers tracing over the paper, of the sick thrill I get when he looks at me.
