Aber raised his head. “You know. So does Oberon.” I swallowed. But I could not reply. Neither could Freda. Finally I said, “We will talk more about this later.”
“We cannot leave Aunt Lanara waiting,” Freda said, gathering her skirts and rising. “Say nothing. I will see what else can be discovered.”
The rest of the evening passed relatively uneventfully. We moved from the social hour to a huge dining hall. My uncle sat at the head of the table, with my aunt to his right and me to his left, opposite her. Aber and Freda sat at the middle of the table. A large section sat empty… I assumed Ulyanash and his followers would have been seated there. They had left early, taking his body with them.
Two seats down from me sat my bride-to-be, Braxara.
I had seldom seen a more unappealing woman. From her bald, three-horned head to her fanged mouth, from her pallid skin to her deathlike stare, every element repulsed me. Although I had fully intended to go through with the marriage to keep my word—it could be a marriage in name only, after all—upon catching sight of the bride-to-be I knew I had to find a way out.
Still, a year was a very long time, and many things could happen…
“A toast!” cried my Uncle Leito, standing. He raised his goblet. “To Oberon and Braxara!”
“To Oberon and Braxara!” everyone cried, raising their own goblets.
Glancing at my bride-to-be, I found her coolly studying me. I forced a smile. She did the same. Somehow, I got the feeling she disliked me nearly as much as I disliked her.
It was late by the time the party began to wind down. I had seen little of Freda and Aber all evening—they had been busy gathering news and gossip—and I missed them. Aunt Lanara and Uncle Leito kept close guard on me after the feast, introducing me to such a steady stream of dukes, duchesses, barons, lords, and ladies that I couldn't keep the names straight or tell one from another after the first dozen.
Finally, though, they saw fit to give Braxara and me a few moments together in the gardens just outside the ballroom. Here, strolling through the odd plants and small moving rocks, under the curious glow of three moons, we had a moment to talk.
“You are not what I expected,” she told me.
“Nor you,” I replied.
“Why did you accept this marriage?”
“I needed something from Lanara. This was her price. I'm sorry… it was not for love.”
She laughed, and the moonlight glinted off her horns. “When has love ever had much to do with marriage?”
I shrugged. “I had hoped…”
“You have much to learn.”
We walked together in an uncomfortable silence. We had not said another word by the time we returned to the ballroom. I hadn't known what to say to her; she hadn't offered anything more.
She made her departure not long after that, and the other guests took that as their cue to leave. When we bade farewell to the last of the guests, only my aunt, uncle, Freda, Aber, and a small army of servants remained. The servants busied themselves cleaning up.
“The evening has been a great success,” Aunt Lanara proclaimed, “marred only by that unfortunate incident with Lord Ulyanash.”
“It could not be avoided,” I said. “I take some small consolation from the fact that he won't ruin any future parties.”
She gave me an odd look. “He was well regarded, you know.”
“Despite his family.”
“True…” She sighed. “Still, what is done cannot be undone. We must concentrate on the triumphs of the evening. You and Braxara made a handsome couple.”
Freda said, “I have never seen a finer gathering, Aunt Lanara.”
“Thank you, my dear!” she positively beamed.
“We ought to be getting home,” Aber said. “It's late, and I already sent our carriage on ahead.”
“Thank you for everything, Aunt Lanara.” I kissed her cheek. “Uncle Leito.” I shook his hand.
He gave me a hug, and whispered in my ear: “Guard yourself, boy. I am hearing many rumors of your father, and his name is linked to treason.”
I gave a quick nod. “Thank you.”
Aber produced a Trump, and the three of us returned home directly.
We were all tired, but took a moment to linger in Aber's bedroom, where his Trump had brought us. I looked around at the clutter. Half-painted Trumps lay out on the desk, several dozen full-sized paintings, including several portraits of Freda, leaned up against the walls, and stacks of brushes and jars of paint and pigment lay everywhere. Even the carpets underfoot were dotted with spots and spills of paint. It had a very comfortable, lived-in feeling.
Aber cleared paintings off two chairs for Freda and me while he perched on the edge of the bed. When we all had our seats, Freda was the first to speak.
“The situation does not look good for Father,” she said. “His flight has only served to convince one and all of his guilt.”
“I imagine so,” I said. “Do they have any idea where he went?”
“None,” Freda said with a sigh. “He can apparently mask his trail. I also received a warning. If Father returns, we must notify King Uthor's counselors immediately. If we do not, we will be judged accomplices and dealt with accordingly.”
Aber swallowed audibly. “Then it's settled,” he said. “It's going to be Dad or us. We have to choose.”
“No we don't,” I said. “At least… not yet. He hasn't come home yet. And if he never returns…”
“Then all we have to worry about is whoever is trying to kill the rest of us,” Aber said. “Great.”
“Perhaps the death of Ulyanash will end the attacks,” Freda said. “If he planned them“
“He was involved,” I said, thinking back to the tower of skulls, “but he was not the one in charge. Our main enemy is still out there.”
Later, in my room, as I was preparing for bed, I felt a strange presence. Someone was trying to contact me via Trump. I figured it had to be Aber, so I opened my mind.
“What is it?” I asked. The image before me flickered, but did not come clear, as though something interfered with our connection. “Who's there?”
A low, unpleasant, and somehow familiar chuckle followed. “Don't you recognize your brother? You left me behind in Juniper.”
“Locke?” I guessed.
“Very good.” His voice had a mocking quality. I shivered; it sounded exactly as I remembered it.
“Locke is dead,” I said, wary now. “Who are you?”
The mists between us parted a little, and I saw my dead brother standing there.