Finally she called in a sheet of paper and held it out to him.
Yes, it was a list of herbs or leaves or whatever else had gone into the tea. But it was in the language of the Tigre. Of course it was.
He handed the paper back to her. “Can you make two copies of that list for me? And are you willing to give me two doses of that tea?”
Grizande hesitated, then nodded. Daemonar suddenly held two small white bowls, no doubt called in from the auxiliary kitchen. The girl poured two generous portions of the tea into the bowls—more than two doses, he suspected. Then she vanished the jar while she avoided looking at Surreal.
Aware of Surreal’s churning emotions, Lucivar leaned forward, held his hands over the bowls, and vanished them.
“Thank you,” he said.
“I drink, maybe okay,” Grizande said in a rush. “No others drink until Queen say okay.”
In other words, Witch might know something about the tea the rest of them didn’t. “I will ask the Lady for her wisdom concerning the tea.”
Grizande sighed with relief.
Daemonar cocked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the square of rooms across the corridor. “We were enjoying some nibbles Mrs. Beale provided when Grizande told me about her tea.”
Lucivar eyed his son and considered the message under the words. Yes, Daemonar was right. The girl had risked enough by offering information about the tea and needed her own kind of rest. “I appreciate you delaying your enjoyment of the nibbles in order to tell me about this. Once you fortify yourselves, I would like those copies of the list.”
“Yes, sir.” Daemonar stood. The girl leaped to her feet, anxious to get out of the room.
Lucivar sat back, looking easy, but he had a skintight Ebon-gray shield protecting him from whatever response Surreal would have to this revelation.
“Did she know?” Surreal finally asked. “Did Witch know there was a way . . .” Her hands curled into fists.
Hearing the bite and bitterness in her voice, he tightened the leash on his temper. “You’re not the only one who has had a hard time dealing with the sexual heat. If Jaenelle had known about this, she would have said something—if not for your sake, then for Marian’s.”
Unless Witch knew something about that tea and had a reason to keep silent.
Surreal raked her fingers through her hair. “Dinah is going to be a problem. The other Queens seem solid enough—and sensible enough—but she . . .”
A change of subject? “What did she say that pissed you off so much?”
She bared her teeth in a vicious smile as she turned to look directly at him. “If Dinah had been invited to the house party, she would have dealt with Delora and wouldn’t have succumbed to a little inconvenience the way Zoey did.” She stopped smiling. “What the little bitch didn’t actually say but implied was how grateful Daemon would be for how she’d taken charge—and how he would show his gratitude. Of course, everyone was so enthralled—or appalled—at her assertions that no one noticed me until I stood directly behind her.”
“And that’s when you gave all the girls a taste of what the fight would have been like.”
Surreal nodded.
“Your assessment and recommendation is to send Dinah home. Anyone else?”
“None of the Black Widows or Healers are among her followers. I think that pisses her off. Her friends are potentially strong witches, yes, but not necessarily influential. Without Dinah’s presence they might settle down here.” She blew out a breath. “I was hard on Zoey’s friends, and they didn’t deserve it. Interesting, though, that those five girls didn’t shield individually. Well, they did—you would have kicked their asses if they hadn’t—but they layered shields around their group. Two sets from darkest to lightest. Kathlene and her friends saw what Zoey’s friends were doing and tried to do the same. They weren’t quite as successful, but if any of the boyos had thrown themselves into the fight, I might have had trouble breaking all those shields. The rest of them didn’t believe they could be stripped of power and left vulnerable that fast. They were wrong.”
“Well, I know what I’ll be working on with them.”
Surreal batted her eyelashes at him. “Are you going to help those boys grow some balls?”
He snorted a laugh. “Yeah, that too. Although Raeth did a good job of carrying out the orders I gave and dividing his men for the task.”
“As good as Liath?” she asked.
“Oh, Hell’s fire, no. That Sceltie could have run rings around those boys when he was still a puppy. They aren’t close to his fighting and herding skills.”
She shifted in her chair. “Let’s swap. We both want to know about that tea, so I’ll go to Ebon Askavi and ask Witch while you stay here and herd the children. I can get a room at The Tavern or stay at your eyrie to keep an eye on things until you get back.”
“You usually avoid the Keep.”
“Tangled feelings. But I’d like to know about this tea, and I’d rather have this meeting while Sadi is in Scelt.”
“All right.” Lucivar thought for a moment. “You might be dealing with just Witch by the time you reach the Keep. Karla will be discussing Virgin Nights with Jillian this evening.” And may the Darkness have mercy on me.
“Karla? Why? I’m making the arrangements for Jillian.”
“Why? Because my brother had the bright idea to have Jillian talk to the witch who dealt with me on her Virgin Night.”
She just stared at him.
“You go on. I’ll stay here—and we’ll see who’s left at the Hall when Daemon returns.”
“You were less scary when you were just killing people.”
“Same could be said about you.”
Surreal laughed. “All right, sugar. We’ll both do what we do.”
She left Daemonar’s room. Lucivar stayed. Standing at the glass doors that opened to the balcony, he let his Red power quietly flow beneath the courtyard and the rooms.
Holt. Raine. Weston.
He let his Red power flow through the rest of the Hall. Plenty of people here he didn’t know, but there was an odd . . . something . . . that felt familiar.
Daemonar returned and handed him two copies of the list of ingredients for the special tea.
Vanishing them, Lucivar asked, “Is someone missing?”
“Weston wanted an introduction since Grizande is going to be living in the same square as Zoey,” Daemonar replied, not actually answering the question.
“Makes sense. Who’s missing?”
Daemonar sighed. “Weston said Lord Morris resigned this morning. Morris wasn’t sure about staying after Liath told us about biting off a man’s ball . . .”
“Ball? Just one?”
“Just one. Anyway, it looked like Morris was going to stay. Then Auntie Surreal called in a whetstone at the breakfast table and started sharpening her knives. She kept looking at Morris and smiling. Weston said Morris threw his resignation at Beale as he bolted out the door.”
Lucivar ran his tongue over his teeth. “Your grandfather experienced a lot of instructors running out the door after spending an hour with Jaenelle and the coven. Looks like Daemon will face the same challenge. Eventually he’ll find people who won’t run.”
“I understand being rested after an assignment, but until Grizande makes some other friends . . .”
“Yeah, I know. I’m going to work with the rest of the children tomorrow. Pick one of Zoey’s friends to go with you and escort Grizande to the village. She’ll need more clothes than she has now. Practical garments for classes, and a couple of dresses since Daemon follows the family tradition of dressing for dinner.”
“Shopping?”
The boy sounded so pained, he wanted to laugh. “That’s your assignment for tomorrow. Deal with it.” He waited a beat. “Besides, the girl should know how to find other shops too.”