He shook his head. “A shameful thing, and in the palace!”
“And still unresolved. That’s why Claire wants so badly for Efridis to be behind it all. If she was responsible for the attack here, and if the one at court was caused by someone in her pay, then everything works out nicely. She’s under guard, with Caedmon sitting on her to make sure she doesn’t flit off somewhere, and Aiden is safe. Or as safe as he’s ever likely to get. If not . . .”
“If not?”
“Then anyone could be behind this. Aeslinn, some of his court, some of your court, somebody else she doesn’t even know about yet. It’s terrifying.”
Only Olfun didn’t seem to think so.
Because he suddenly grinned. Not another of those solemn smiles that never reached the eyes, but a full-on delighted expression that looked strangely goofy on his serious features. I liked it. I just didn’t understand it.
“What?”
“Did you not wonder why it took us so long to respond the other night?” he asked me.
I shrugged. “I told you. I didn’t think it took long at all.”
“Well, I can assure you that it did. But that was not entirely our fault. We should have already been in the house; it is true. But even from the garden, we should have been here within seconds. Except that we couldn’t hear you.”
“Couldn’t hear us?”
He shook his head, and tapped an elongated ear. “We do not usually have that problem. Certainly not with a house being demolished a short distance away, and with the princess screaming out of her bedroom window!”
“Claire was screaming?” I hadn’t noticed. But then, I’d been getting the ever-loving crap kicked out of me at the time.
He nodded. “She was apparently quite loud, yet we did not hear. Our best guess is that a silence spell, and a strong one, was put on the house prior to the attack.”
“Can the fey do that?”
“Oh, yes. So can human mages.”
I frowned. “That doesn’t narrow the field any, Olfun!”
“No, it does not. But that was not my intention with my story.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Go on.”
“I thought you might wonder how our princess managed to get our attention.”
He was back to deadpan, so I knew this was going to be good. “Yes, I would be quite interested in knowing that.”
“She set our tents on fire.”
I burst out laughing. “What?”
He nodded. “From the house. I awoke to a burning hellscape, and dragon fire is not easily doused. I shan’t soon forget it.”
I guessed not. “So where are you sleeping now?”
“She informed us that we could sleep inside from now on, or out in the elements—she cared not. But that we were forbidden to acquire new tents since they appear to affect our hearing.” He hoisted the tray. “I rather pity anyone foolish enough to come after the little prince.”
From your lips to God’s ears, I thought.
And then, as he started to turn away, the phone rang.
He sighed deeply. “I almost forgot.”
“Forgot what?”