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.
At dawn, I drink three cups of tea and set out alone for the last person I must speak with before the banquet, my sister Vivienne.
I go back to my house—Madoc’s house, I remind myself, never really mine, never mine again after tonight—as the sun rises in a blaze of gold. I feel like a shadow as I climb the spiral stairs, as I pass through all the rooms I grew up in. In my bedroom, I pack a bag. Poison, knives, a gown, and jewels that I think the Roach will find to be properly extravagant. With reluctance, I leave behind the stuffed animals from my bed. I leave slippers and books and favorite baubles. I step out of my second life the same way I stepped out of my first, holding too few things and with great uncertainty about what will happen next.
Then I go to Vivi’s door. I rap softly. After a few moments, she sleepily lets me inside.
“Oh good,” she mumbles, yawning. “You’re packed.” Then she catches sight of my face and shakes her head. “Please don’t tell me you’re not coming.”
“Something happened,” I say, resting my bag on the ground. I keep my voice low. There is no real reason to hide that I am here, but hiding has become habit. “Just hear me out.”
“You disappeared,” she says. “I’ve been waiting and waiting for you, trying to act like things were fine in front of Dad. You made me worry.”
“I know,” I say.
She looks at me like she’s considering giving me a swift smack. “I was afraid you were dead.”
“I’m not even a little bit dead,” I say, taking her arm and pulling her close so I can speak in a whisper. “But I have to tell you something I know you’re not going to like: I have been working as a spy for Prince Dain. He put me under a geas so I couldn’t have said anything before his death.”
Her delicately pointed eyebrows rise. “Spying? What does that entail?”
“Sneaking around and getting information. Killing people. And before you say anything else, I was good at it.”
“Okay,” she says. She knew something was up with me, but from her face, I can tell that in a million years she wouldn’t have guessed this.
I go on. “And I discovered that Madoc is going to make a political move, one that involves Oak.” I explain once more about Liriope and Oriana and Dain. By this point, I have told this story enough that it’s easy to hit only the necessary parts, to run through the information quickly and convincingly. “Madoc is going to make Oak king and himself regent. I don’t know if that was always his plan, but I am sure it’s his plan now.”
“And that’s why you’re not coming to the human world with me?”
“I want you to take Oak instead,” I tell her. “Keep him away from all this until he gets a little older, old enough not to need a regent.