Ignata covered her face with her hands. "You know, if you had to hire a doctor, I bet you'd listen to her."
"No, we wouldn't," Cerise murmured.
"Where is the blueblood?" Erian asked.
"With Kaldar."
"I noticed something." Erian turned in his chair. "He's got a memory like a gator trap. There are over fifty of us, and he hasn't confused a single name yet."
Cerise scooted deeper into the chair. That was all she needed, a family discussion about Lord Bill.
"I like him," Ignata said. "He saved Lark." A smile stretched her lips. "And Cerise likes him, too."
"Don't start," Cerise murmured.
"It's about time, too. It's been, what, two years since Tobias ran off?"
"Three," Erian said.
Kaldar walked into the room, followed by William. Their stares connected and Cerise's heart skipped a beat.
Kaldar dropped into a chair, stretching long legs. "What are we talking about?"
"We're trying to decide when you're going to marry Cerise off," Erian said.
Kaldar leaned back, a little light playing in his eyes. "Well ..."
Cerise set her glass down with a clink. "Enough. Have you figured out which house my mother is in?"
Kaldar grimaced. "Not yet. In case you forgot, Blue-rock is in the middle of a pretty big lake. It takes time to find the right house. We'll know tomorrow. I've got guys on it."
"What guys?"
Kaldar waved his hand. "If I tell you who I sent to spy on the house, you'll bust my balls about how dangerous it is and how I shouldn't put children in peril. It's being handled, that's all you get."
"Now, wait a minute - "
Something thumped against the window.
Cerise grasped her knife. Kaldar was on his feet and moving to the window along the wall, dagger in hand.
Another thump. His back to the wall, Kaldar leaned to glance outside, sighed, and slid the glass panel up.
A small animal scrambled onto the windowsill. Fuzzy with mouse fur, it sat on its haunches, looking at them with enormous pale green eyes.
Oh no.
The beast waddled to the edge of the windowsill. Its bat wings fluttered once, twice, it took the plunge and glided to the table. Tiny claws slid on the polished surface, and the creature flopped on its butt, skidded, and crawled back to sit before her, whiskers moving on the shrewlike nose.
No escape now. "Emel, you almost gave me a seizure."
"Sorry about that," Emel's voice came not from the beast but from about three inches above its head. "I don't have full control of this little fellow yet. I just made him a couple of weeks ago, but I was sure that under the present circumstances anything larger than him would get shot down."
The beast scratched its side with a tiny black foot.
"I'm so sorry about Anya," Emel said.
"Me, too." A pang of guilt stabbed her. Anya had volunteered to run the stinker to the house. If it wasn't for Lagar's gator traps, she would still be alive.
The bat shivered. "Someone summoned Raste Adir to the clearing in front of Sene. Was it you or Grandmother Azan?"
"Me. Grandmother is sleeping."
The beast sneezed and curled into a tiny ball. "Very well done," said Emel's disembodied voice. "You held it a touch too long, but other than that, very well done."
His praise filled her with absurd pride. At least she had done something right. "Thank you."
Richard slipped through the door, followed by Murid and Aunt Pete, her missing left eye hidden by a black leather patch.
The beast fell asleep, its tiny ribcage rising and falling with smooth regularity.
"Did you know that most of the Sheerile estate has been blighted?" Emel continued. "The house is crumbling into dust, and the entire place is raining yellow pine needles. Grandmother didn't have anything to do with that, did she?"
Smart bastard. "Emel, you know perfectly well that blight magic takes a life. All of us care too much about Grandmother to let her throw herself away like that. She's just sleeping. We lost a lot of people today, and it took a toll. Kaitlin was probably so mad that she lost the feud, she sacrificed herself to blight the place."
"I thought as much. Of course, you do remember that aiding a casting of the blight is punishable by death, according to Mire law."
And he would be heartbroken if the Mire militia dragged her off. Unless he got the money first, of course. "Yes, I remember."
A sound of a throat being cleared issued from above the creature. "There is the matter of the eel," Emel said. "I wasn't confident my message would get through to you."
"What are you implying?" Kaldar stopped cleaning his fingernails with the tip of his dagger.
"Nothing offensive. Simply put, all of you had a very difficult day, and I'm sure the eel was the last thing on your mind. However, the problem remains unsolved. The law clearly says that if you purposefully destroy property belonging to another, you must pay restitution. As you know, since we are related by blood, the eel would not have attacked you unprovoked. So, either you provoked it or you did nothing to avoid it. I understand that another person was involved in the altercation, but the fact remains: you are allowed passage through Sect-held property, but he was not. The eel was simply doing its duty. Since you were present at the scene and can't claim ignorance of our traditions, the Sect holds you responsible for not taking care of - "
"How much?" Cerise asked.
"Five thousand."
She reeled back. Kaldar's jaw hung down. Erian's eyes snapped open. Ignata nearly dropped her glass.
Cerise leaned forward. "Five thousand dollars? That's outrageous!"
"It was a fifty-year-old animal."
"Which attacked me in the middle of the swamp in an unmarked stream!"
"There was a marker there. We're just not sure what happened to it."
"This is unfair!"
Emel sighed. "Cerise, you and I both know that you are perfectly capable of avoiding mud eels, especially one of this size. It was hard not to notice the thing - it was fourteen feet long. However, your points are valid and you're my dear cousin, that's why it's only five thousand and not seven as it would've been for anyone else."
"We can't do five thousand," she said flatly.
"I'll go as low as four thousand eight hundred, Cerise. I'm sorry but anything less would be an insult to the Sect. And even so, the missing two hundred will have to come from my own funds."
Gods, where would she get the money? They had to pay the Sect. It was too powerful. Making an enemy of it would mean that their livestock would start dropping dead. First the cows and rolpies, then dogs, then relatives.