straight,” somebody else said. “Imagine not inviting the Pythia!”
There was a general murmur of agreement that almost made me tear up again. I remembered when I’d first arrived, and Mircea’s guys had alternated between fear of my power and annoyance at my person. They’d called this place Australia, because they’d felt like they’d been exiled from the seat of power. Meanwhile, I’d resented the hell out of them, viewing them as a cross between babysitters and jailers. I’d badly wanted them gone.
Irony was kind of a running theme in my life lately.
I cleared my throat. “Anyway, they have a problem they don’t know how to fix. I make it go away and I get to keep you—all of you.”
“Must be some problem,” Roy said, coming forward. He had a glass in hand with little floating bits in it. Probably a mint julep; he loved playing to the stereotype. “You sure we’re worth it?”
“You’re worth it.” It came out hoarsely, embarrassingly so, but my nerves were raw. Marco was right; I ought to be in bed. But I had to do this first.
I stood up, because it seemed like the kind of thing you stand up for. And because, considering how things were going with the boss, I needed to be sure they understood. I needed to be damned sure!
“From tonight on, you’re free agents,” I said. “Mircea left your situation in my hands, but I’m putting it back in yours.”
“Meaning?” Roy asked, frowning.
“That if you would prefer to go back to Mircea, you can. I know this wasn’t a posting that a lot of you wanted, and all of you are masters, many with courts of your own. I’m sure you’ve found it boring compared with what you were doing before—”
Somebody burst out laughing. “Sorry,” a voice floated in from the back. “Just, uh, not really bored.”
“—or terrifying, at times,” I continued, because that’s how this place was. Quiet until it wasn’t, and then it really wasn’t. “Honestly, that’s not likely to get any better. If anything, the opposite is true.”
“And what does that mean?” That was Rico, pushing forward from the back, where, knowing him, he’d been standing and smoking, observing everything with those sharp, dark eyes. But now I’d gotten his interest, probably at the thought of a threat to Rhea.
And I wasn’t going to sugarcoat it.
“We’re at war. More than that, the court itself has enemies, and they seem to grow every day. Right now, the covens are angry—”
“Yeah, we heard!” someone else said eagerly.
“—and so are plenty of others. Including a nine-centuries-old, probably insane dark mage who just came very close to destroying a city and may be targeting us next.”
There was silence for a moment after that. “Like I said,” the voice from the back came again, sounding a little hollower this time. “Not bored.”
“You might be safer with Mircea,” I told them. “Even in Faerie.”
Roy finished his drink, his strong throat working. He put the glass down on the table and sighed with satisfaction. “Yeah, but you can’t get decent whiskey in Faerie, or so I’m told. Think I’ll stay here.”
“Think carefully,” I told him. “All of you. And there’s one more thing.”
I hesitated, but there was no way to phrase this that was going to make it any better. They were going to be okay with it or they weren’t, and there wasn’t much I could do about it. Except to make my position clear.
“There are likely going to be times when I tell you one thing and Mircea tells you another. He understands the senate’s side of things in ways I can’t and never will, but I understand—I have to understand—more than that. I’m supposed to be bringing together the supernatural community, not just being an extra weapon for the senate. That means that sometimes Mircea and I will be on the same team, fighting side by side, and sometimes . . . we won’t.
“Some of you are emancipated; all of you are strong enough to decide which commands you follow and which you don’t. The question is, when push comes to shove, who are you going to listen to? Because as much as I value each and every one of you, I can’t have people guarding my court who I can’t absolutely rely on—”
“You’re saying you don’t trust us?”
That was Lorenzo again, from somewhere in the middle of the pack. He sounded hurt. It caused a pang right under the breastbone, because this wasn’t anything I wanted, either. But it had