Quentin was dead.

Under other circumstances that would be grounds for jumping up and down and doing a little dance. Alas, there was not the time. The room was littered with casualties and the area was definitely not secure, as evidenced by the whirring of a security robot from the doorway behind her. Caitlin extracted her sword from Quentin's chest and swung it backhand as she rose, catching the robot's neck and neatly severing its head. The automaton didn't go down but, deprived of its brain, merely stood quietly waiting for instructions that would never come.

The immediate threats disposed of, Caitlin turned her attention to her fallen brothers, Galen first since he lay nearly at her feet. He was deeply cut and would probably bleed to death if untreated, but Caitlin quickly satisfied herself that he would survive untended for a few minutes. Possibly more than a few, even, if he was able to shrug off blood loss as easily as he had the injuries he'd taken earlier in the night. She left him and turned her attention to Theodore.

Theo was standing weirdly upright. He wasn't breathing, had no pulse, had lost even more blood than Galen, and had a knife sticking out of his chest. He seemed clearly beyond the means of Amber's meager medical science and emergency medical care in this shadow seemed equally unlikely. Caitlin grabbed for her Trump deck, hoping that Root's vacation didn't extend to ignoring Trump calls and that he was taking it someplace with hospitals.

He was, it turned out, taking it on a racquetball court. "Caitlin." He seemed nonplussed, but not as nonplussed as she'd expected considering that she was interrupting both his vacation and, apparently, his game.

She wasted no time with explanations. "Theo's hurt bad. He needs treatment this shadow can't provide. Are you near a hospital? The higher tech, the better."

"Hang on." From the background, she had the sense of Root running. Satisfied that help was on the way, Caitlin eased Theo to the ground and turned her attention to keeping him alive long enough to get to it. There was no ripple in the Trump contact when she touched him. Not a good sign.

Performing CPR while maintaining a Trump contact is no easy task, but Root had no Trump of her and Caitlin begrudged any delay in getting Theo through to someone with proper equipment. Placing the open Trump on his chest, she was able to manage the chest compressions well enough, but trying to get an airway one-handed was neither as gentle nor, probably, as effective as Caitlin would have liked.

In the background, Root had obtained a motorcycle and was now rapidly shifting shadows, superimposing the strain of a hellride over the haze of her efforts to keep Theo alive. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably no more than five or six minutes, Root was off the bike and the feel of rapidly changing streets was replaced by that of an ER and the sound of Root shouting for doctors.

"Ready," he said a moment later.

Caitlin grabbed Theo and passed him through the link one-handed, Root staggering a bit under the unexpected weight. He'd clearly expected Caitlin to come through herself.

"I've got more wounded here," she told him. "Nothing as severe, but I can't leave them. I'll Trump you back when I can."

Root didn't look happy with that, but he only said, "I'll see he's taken care of" and switched his attention on Theo and the doctors.

Caitlin broke the contact without a word and rushed back to Galen's side, sparing a quick glance for Quentin to be sure he wasn't regenerating or something. Quentin was still satisfyingly dead, but Galen seemed to be making progress in that direction, as well. He was noticeably paler than he'd been earlier, but still breathing shallowly. She hastily tore a few strips from his cloak and used them to stanch the bleeding. It was a poor job even for a field dressing but, given Galen's remarkable constitution, she judged that it was likely to keep him alive until she could get him to a doctor.

That thought in mind, Caitlin dug through his pockets until she came up with his Trump deck. She had no Trumps of anyone currently in Amber, but Galen had shown her one of his servant Ambrosius who was supposed to be in Amber City. It wasn't the Castle, but it was good enough. She quickly rifled the deck until she found the card she sought.

Ambrosius was apparently familiar with Trump, because he accepted the contact quickly enough, but he was clearly more than surprised at the caller. He'd probably never been Trumped by anyone other than Galen before. "M-Marshal Caitlin. Is Master Galen all right?"

"No. Where are you? In Amber?"

"Yes. In the city."

"All right. Galen's injured. I need you to get to Castle Amber as quickly as you can. Wait. Before you go, get a message to the headquarters of the city watch and have them send guardswomen Fortanna and Petrovich of the Shadow Guard to the castle as quickly as they can find them. Don't go yourself, just send a messenger. You get to the castle as fast as you can. One of the Shadow Guard there will have a Trump of me. Tell them I want her to get to the infirmary and Trump me. Hurry. Galen's life depends on it."

"Yes, Marshal. Um, will they listen to me?"

Caitlin cursed herself. Given that Galen had a Trump of Ambrosius, she'd assumed that the man was some sort of trusted assistant and would have a seal of the Regent or something. Now that he mentioned it, she realized that she had no idea whatsoever who the man was. For all she knew, he was Galen's wine buyer, in which case he might well have trouble getting anyone to listen to him. Sighing, she gave him one of her single-use command codes. Dexter might hate the things, but they came in damn useful from time to time.

Satisfied that everything that could be done had been done, she broke the contact and allowed herself a brief moment of relaxation. No more than that, however. While most of her attention had been focused on giving CPR to Theo, a part of her mind had been planning what came next.

She ached to go to Mirabelle, but she didn't dare. She couldn't leave Galen with the security robots still wandering around and she was afraid to move him. Besides, the thought of leaving Quentin's body unattended held little appeal. The only entrance to Mira's cell was through this room, so no one could get to her. Having survived nearly a day in Quentin's custody, another half hour of being neglected was unlikely to seriously endanger her.

Instead, Caitlin turned her attention to Quentin. She rifled his pockets and carefully extracted his Trump deck. She pocketed it, taking care not to look at any of the cards. There'd be time enough for that later. If she got caught in a Trump trap now, Galen and Mirabelle would likely die before anyone made it back to them. A further search turned up three more Trumps in a sealed box, which she stashed with the first set. Beyond that, she found nothing on his body save his sword, which she also relieved him of.

Quentin still showed no sign of regenerating his wounds, but Caitlin was taking no chances. She found a thick throw rug about the right size, brought it over, and dragged Quentin's body onto it. Satisfied that it would absorb most of the blood, she took her sword and severed his head, which she then placed between his ankles. She still wasn't convinced that would keep him from regenerating, but she was at least fairly sure that he now couldn't do it without her noticing.

That settled, she turned her attention to the room itself. She was in possession of a room that had once been Quentin's headquarters and it was time to take advantage of that. She began looting. Not being certain of how long she had and wary of Trump traps, it wasn't a very careful looting. She just grabbed documents and threw them into piles that would be easily collected in a hurry if she had to bug out. Twice she was interrupted by wandering automatons. By the second one, she'd figured out their patrol schedule and was ready when it appeared in the doorway. Finally, she felt the tingle of a Trump contact.

It was Juliana, her assistant. "I'm in the infirmary."

Caitlin was already hurrying back to Galen. "Body coming through," she warned and passed him through, Juliana staggering a moment under his weight. "Hold the contact. There's one more."

Caitlin took the stairs three at a time and sprinted down the short corridor to the room where Mirabelle was lying. Still alive. She wasted no time checking beyond that before passing her through to Juliana and more skilled medical care. While Juliana sorted out the disposition of the wounded in Amber's infirmary, Caitlin returned to the main room to keep watch over Quentin's body and the looted documents. Both seemed undisturbed in her brief absence.

Once she had Juliana's attention again, she began issuing orders. "Prepare a team. You and the rest of the command staff plus Francesca and Rebecca. They should already be on their way up from the city. Equip everybody but Linnea and Francesca for high-tech and bring a spare set of equipment for me. It's chancy, of course, but I may have enough control over our destination to arrange a place where it will work. Better bring some escorts, too. Soldiers, castle guard, Rangers on leave. Whoever happens to be around. Do it quickly, but take the time to properly prepare. No more than an hour. Half that's better. Trump me when you're ready."

"Got it," Juliana said and broke the connection.

With Galen and Mirabelle safe, the immediate danger was over and the imminent arrival of a backup team made it likely that the area would be held, making the looting less important. If Caitlin was right about the patrol schedule, she had a few minutes before the next security robot showed up. There was time to check on Theo.

Root took the call at the first brush of contact. "You'd better come through. You'll want to see this."

The flatness in his voice scared her and she cringed mentally over her answer. "I can't. We've got no way back here if I leave."

Root looked actually angry, something she rarely saw in him. "Can you see behind me?"

"No."

"Hang on." There was a pause as Root concentrated on the Trump and then Caitlin's field of view widened. Behind him a group of doctors were stripping off their surgical gloves and shaking their heads. Beyond them, Theo lay on a bed, connected to medical monitors she couldn't read from her vantage. A unicorn stood over his bed, it's head bowed.

"I think it came to pay its respects," Root said bitterly. "It certainly didn't do any magic. They called it about five minutes ago."

"The unicorn?" Caitlin asked stupidly.

"Time of death," Root said with annoyance, unsure for a moment if she was joking.

Caitlin felt a curious detachment, something she had only felt once before, at Dar Thayleen. Her mind shut down, trapped in the unreality of her brother's death. She was functioning completely on autopilot. That had been the point of her years of training, of course; Caitlin on autopilot was still one of the most dangerous beings in the universe. The people of Dar Thayleen had learned that to their sorrow.

"If there's nothing more you can do there, I need you back here, then," Caitlin said in a voice that betrayed no emotion at all. "For one thing, you're acting Regent."

That was a dangerous admission. It set up the odd situation where each of them was the other's superior and she still had things she needed him to do. But leadership was not in Root's fundamental nature and Caitlin trusted that, if she gave him orders, he'd follow them out of habit without really thinking about it. Besides, she was fairly sure that the Regency held even less appeal for him than it did for her. If she hadn't brought it up, she doubted it ever would have occurred to him. But the precedent outweighed the drawbacks. In the current situation it hardly mattered, but in the future the continuity of political leadership might be of critical importance to Amber's very survival and she wanted a succession procedure on record.

Root betrayed no reaction to this news, his attention remaining strictly focused on the practical. "What do you want me to do with Theo?"

Caitlin froze. She hadn't thought through that. She needed Root here soon, but abandoning Theo's body in shadow, even temporarily, seemed wrong and bringing him back here was likely to cause complications.

"Should I take him back to Amber?" Theo pressed.

"Probably..." Caitlin started to say.

"OK. I've got a Trump I can use."

Caitlin gave a sigh of relief. Problem solved. She was back in control again.

"Good. Do that. I've got a team getting ready to come out here. You can come through with them when they're ready. They have a Trump of me."

"Um..." Root seemed suddenly uncertain. "You don't want me to tell your mother, do you?"

God. Mom.

"No. I'll do that."

Root looked vastly relieved. "I'll try to keep things under wraps, then?"

"Do that. Contact the Shadow Guard as soon as you have that sorted out." She broke the contact.

It was a good deal. If someone had given her the option that morning of trading Theo's life for Quentin's, she would have done it in a heartbeat. She knew that. Theo was important to Amber, but not critically so. He didn't even have an official position. His main asset was his charisma and popularity with the masses and, depending on the sort of man he grew into, that could be as dangerous as it was useful. Quentin, on the other hand, was the most dangerous enemy Amber had ever faced. He'd nearly destroyed the entire kingdom and could have easily have cut a swath through the royal family one person at a time. It was a good deal.

She kept telling herself that as she returned to her looting.

*****

The tingle of a Trump contact broke Caitlin from her reverie. She brought through Juliana, and a dozen other Shadow Guard and soldiers, and Root, still wearing his racquetball clothes, now spattered with Theo's blood.

"Quentin is dead. This was his headquarters," Caitlin informed them. "I've gotten a start on looting his files, but we need to go through it systematically, make sure we get everything." She heard a faint whirring from the hallway. "Linnea, Francesca, you're our experts on that. I'd like you to handle the search. The difficulty is that, while I'm not sure that he had any human servants, this place is crawling with these damn security robots," Caitlin turned, swung her sword, and beheaded the automaton just as it moved into the doorway. It's head bounced off the wall and landed on the ground with a satisfying thunk. Even Root looked impressed.

"I was hoping you could handle that, Root," she continued.

Root nodded approval. "Good. I could use something to smash right now."

Caitlin was surprised by the depth of his anger. He had, she suddenly realized, probably been closer to Theo than she had, even though they'd been only half brothers. She'd been travelling in Shadow when Theo had been born and by the time she'd returned Theo had left for his own travels. She'd seen him from time to time, but they'd been brief meetings. Unlike Root, who'd been in Amber for most of Theo's childhood. It was only in the last few months that Caitlin had lived in the same place as her full brother for any length of time. And even then, she'd been busy rebuilding the army while Theo was being pushed into Amber's administration by their mother. Caitlin had meant to talk to him about his ill-fated attempt at a power grab at the very least, try to warn him how to play the game of Amber politics in a way their mother seemed to have been unable to. But other matters had kept intervening and then she'd learned of his past connection to Quentin and it hadn't seemed wise to share Amber's secrets with him. An unfounded fear, clearly, given his conduct this night. She had a feeling Root would have known that if she'd ever asked him.

"We also need to dispose of Quentin's body. I'd like to take him somewhere we can get a DNA analysis, see if we can figure out how he was able to walk the Pattern. I was thinking I'd do that."

She looked at Root for objection, found none.

"The rest of the Shadow Guard is with me. Everybody else, help Root secure the area. That's it. Let's go."

*****

Under other circumstances, the journey would have been fun. It was a throwback to the old days, before Amber and armies and responsibilities, when it was just Caitlin and her Shadows fighting their way across the worlds. Of the six of them, only Tanja had never seen those days. But, after two decades in the Guard's inner circle, she fit into the group as if she'd been one of them from the beginning.

But Theo's death hung like a shroud over Caitlin and from her cast a pall over the entire company. Even Juliana, who had also lost a brother in a battle thought won, had better sense than to disturb her commander in that mood. That was a loss Caitlin needed no reminder of just now. And so their journey was a silent one, broken only by the occasional sound of battle.

Caitlin kept them indoors, the short sight lines increasing the rapidity with which she could move them between shadows. She increased the technology rapidly and, taking advantage of the desertion of Quentin's headquarters, kept them from contact with any living being. The security robots she left in for a while, thinking her companions had far too little opportunity for live-fire exercises. Caitlin hung back herself; she'd had plenty of fighting for one day. Eventually, as the tech level increased, battling the robots started to slow them down and Caitlin edited them out, too.

After that, they encountered nothing at all. The occasional friendly glow of a computer panel or the skittering of a solitary rodent were the only signs of life they found in places that ranged from dark corridors long abandoned to cheery hallways eerily devoid of habitation. The desolation combined with Caitlin's black mood and the headless corpse they carried to give the whole journey an air of ghostly unreality.

Hours passed before Caitlin found what she wanted, an abandoned starship orbiting a forgotten star in a deserted system. Their first stop was an armory, only partially looted. Some of the weapons had been so antique when the ship was abandoned that its owners hadn't bothered to salvage them. But the charging rack still worked and, whatever they lacked compared to the current state of the art in this universe, they proved able to disintegrate unshielded objects well enough.

Thus armed, they made their way to the ship's medical bay. From now on, they'd be staying in the same Shadow; Caitlin wanted to be sure those weapons kept working. The sickbay itself had been stripped of most of its equipment but evidently the equipment in the medical lab beyond had been too ancient to bother with and most of it was intact.

"Rebecca, can you work this stuff?" Caitlin asked.

They had to wait a few minutes while their computer expert puzzled over the unfamiliar equipment. Hers was most difficult of their jobs; computer architecture varied wildly from Shadow to Shadow.

Finally she nodded. "I think so. It looks like they made this stuff pretty idiot-proof. I think they designed it so any of the crew could operate it in case something happened to the doctor. It may not even have carried a doctor."

The ship's crew was of interest to Caitlin only in the fact of their absence. "Good. I want you to run Quentin's DNA. Better run mine, too, on the same equipment. I want to get a comparison of our genomes."

"OK. That should be pretty easy. Just let me get a swab from the inside of your cheek."

"No. Use our blood. That's how we're connected to the Pattern."

It took a few minutes to find the appropriate equipment and take the samples. Then, leaving Rebecca to run the tests and Mela watching her back, Caitlin led the three remaining guardswomen in search of the bridge.

Caitlin hadn't brought their pilot. She hadn't wanted to take too many of her guard out of Amber and she had no complex maneuvers planned. The flying she intended to do should be well within her own abilities. A few minutes with the ship's sensors revealed no other ships anywhere near them except for a scattering of other derelicts. Satisfied that there was no one close enough to do anything about it, Caitlin fired her ship's thrusters and sent it in a death spiral into the sun. Time mattered now. She'd given them about ninety minutes before the ship got too close to the star to maintain life support. She asked Tanja to call up a schematic of the ship, found the main airlock, and rotated the ship so that it was facing directly into the star.

"Come one. Time to do what we came here to do."

Caitlin led them to the airlock, where they dumped Quentin's body, still wrapped in his throw rug, near the outer door. There was a locker room adjacent and Caitlin was able to find a space suit that wasn't too awful a fit. There was also a sink where she was able to wash the blood off of her face and hair. Most of it was probably Theo's, but she didn't want to leave any trace of Quentin that she could avoid.

Once she was suited up, Caitlin returned to the airlock and tossed her uniform and the towel she'd used to clean up on top of Quentin's body. The suit's pockets held a coil of safety line which she and the others used to secure her to a tie-down points on the far side of the airlock. Then they left her in the lock with Quentin.

Once she was sure the lock had been properly sealed, she drew the weapon she found and, with a most satisfying crackle of energy, disintegrated every trace of Quentin she'd managed to lay her hands on. As soon as it was done, she hit the emergency release on the lock's outer door, emptying the lock in a rush of explosive decompression. Given the ship's course and the orientation of the decompression, most of the molecules that had once made up Quentin should fall into the star. The solar wind would no doubt ensure that some escaped. Then again, perhaps it was for the best that he not all end up in one place, anyway.

Somewhat to Caitlin's surprise, the ancient equipment managed to reseal and repressurize the lock. She'd half expected that she'd have to go outside and work her way around to another airlock. As it was, she contented herself with running through the airlock's decontamination cycle twice before letting herself back into the ship.

While she was waiting Rebecca called on her suit radio.

"I've got the results. What do you want me to do with them?"

"Get a hard copy," Caitlin told her. "Then sterilize the samples and erase the data. Crash the whole computer, if you can."

"I'll do what I can," Rebecca answered. "I don't really understand their computer technology. And I'm not going to, unless you want to give me a week to work on it. I have no idea what kind of backups and archiving this thing uses. But I'll delete everything I can find."

"Do what you can. Then meet us on the bridge."

The decontamination cycles complete, Caitlin made her way back into the ship, where she was met by Juliana.

"Cait," Juliana said quietly, helping her out of her suit and taking advantage of their momentary solitude. "Do you think you're maybe being a little paranoid here? Is all this really necessary?"

"Probably not. I think cutting off his head was probably sufficient. And, if it wasn't, I'm not sure that anything we've done here will be. But we had to come nearly this far for the DNA work in any event. Being thorough with the body costs us very little, only a couple hours of our time, and the consequences of his return would be immense. It's so little trouble, there's no reason not to take every conceivable precaution."

Back in the locker room, Caitlin found a coverall that was only a size or two too big for her. It's original owner had had limbs of slightly different proportions and appeared to have come from a civilization that had developed neither good taste nor, judging by the name sewn onto it, vowels. On the positive side, it didn't appear to have been worn to a sword fight recently.

The others looked at her curiously as she emerged from the locker room, but only Tanja ventured a comment. "Paisly?"

Caitlin glowered at her. "Come on. I want to blow something up."

'Something' turned out to be their ship. The four of them spent the next half hour tearing the bridge apart looking for the self-destruct system. Unable to discover one, they eventually contented themselves with figuring out how to bypass the safeties overload the ship's reactor. By the time they'd accomplished that, Rebecca and Mela had rejoined them and the ship was becoming uncomfortably hot.

Finally, Caitlin fired a couple blaster bolts into the ship's computer, much to Rebecca's annoyance.

"If you were going to do that, why did I go to all the trouble of erasing the data?"

"Think of this as my way of backing up your work."

A check of the sensors showed no other ships close by. The sun was looming ever brighter ahead. The countdown on the reactor's time to overload passed the one minute mark.

It was time to go home.

*****

By the time they had returned, Root and the others had finished ransacking Quentin's headquarters. Once Caitlin and her team rejoined them, everything they'd found had been neatly boxed up and hauled back to Amber.

Mirabelle had sustained no identifiable physical injuries, but was still unconscious. Caitlin had seen her and done what she could. If there was no improvement by tomorrow, she would go to Magenta for a psychic healer. Galen was conscious and recovering, though it would be some time before he could leave the infirmary. She had briefed him on Quentin's death and the subsequent developments, perhaps tarrying longer over it than had been strictly necessary. But in the end it had been clear that he needed his rest and, finally, there were no more excuses.

Caitlin knocked on her mother's door.

"Come in." Elanora was dressed all in white and standing silhouetted against the window. She stood there for a moment, long enough for Caitlin to take it in, as if posing, before turning to face her daughter. "Caitlin. Where's Theodore?"

She knows, Caitlin realized with horror. For a moment, she flared with anger at Root, who had been supposed to keep this secret. But that wasn't fair. Her mother had her own sources of information and, if Root had underestimated them, Caitlin had done no less. In the space of a single sentence, her mother had already thrown her off balance. She'd lived this scene a thousand times in her head in the last three days, but most of the permutations had run towards screaming matches or stony silence. She'd never imagined that her mother would play this sort of game with her.

Perhaps sensing Caitlin's loss for an answer, Elanora continued. "You left together. And two days ago you brought Galen and Mirabelle through to the infirmary. But not Theodore. Where is he, Caitlin?"

She already knows the answer, Caitlin thought. If she didn't, she would have assumed he was safe with me. So, why play this game? Why now, of all times?

"His injuries were too severe for Amber's medical science to deal with. Root and I took him to a high-tech Shadow. Got him the best medical care we could reach." She paused, suddenly unable to meet her mother's eyes. "His injuries were too severe for that, too."

"He was already hurt, Caitlin," for the first time there was a faint flash in Elanora's eyes that might be anger, a faint steel underlying her voice. "And he went with you, anyway. You took him out of the infirmary."

"No," Caitlin knew she had no hope of convincing her mother it wasn't her fault. It was her fault. It was my job to protect him. It was my job to protect them all. And I didn't. But she wouldn't be held to account for mistakes she hadn't made; the ones she had were more than sufficient. It would probably be years before her mother would speak to her again.

"We took him to a fast-time Shadow first. Spent ten days there for him to heal before we did anything else."

Elanora turned away. "It was my fault, anyway."

Again, Caitlin was speechless. It was the last thing she had expected to hear. Tears, denial, anger; those things she'd been ready for. She was prepared for "it should have been you.," to hear those words and not flinch. She wasn't ready for "it was my fault." She had no idea how to react.

"I started it," Elanora continued. "The attempt to win him the Regency. I pushed him into that. And it failed and you were all so suspicious of him."

Caitlin wasn't sure if it was a lament or an accusation. I would have helped you. All you had to do was ask. All either of you had to do was ask. I wouldn't have done what you wanted, but I would have helped you.

"After that," Elanora continued, "he was ready to do anything, take any chance, he was so desperate to prove himself to you. To all of you."

"He did that," Caitlin answered. "He saved Galen's life. He saved all our lives." It was, conceivably, the truth.

"Galen. I never thought he'd want it. I was certain he wouldn't."

Caitlin nodded. She hadn't really thought so, either, although it hadn't led her to the same conclusion her mother had reached. There was no road that led from Galen refusing the Regency to Theo gaining it. Not that she'd ever seen.

"You know what our plan was then? My plan? We were going to wait for Galen to screw it up. He always has before."

Caitlin shook her head. "That wasn't going to happen. There were too many people behind him making sure it didn't." Amazing that she, of all people, was lecturing her mother on politics.

"I understand that now," Elanora's eyes bored into her. "I understand a lot of things now that I didn't before."

She thinks it's me, Caitlin realized. She thinks I sold Theo out to Galen so that I could be the power behind the throne. She almost laughed. Even in betrayal I'm a disappointment to her.

"The body is here?" Elanora asked suddenly.

Caitlin nodded, "Yes."

"Take me to him."

*****

Root had ordered Theo laid out in one of the disused guest rooms. One that, no doubt, would not be popular with future guests. The stood over the body for a few minutes in a silence that was almost companionable, considering what had passed between them earlier.

It was Elanora who finally spoke. "There will be a state funeral, of course. It's very inconvenient timing. I hope the coronation won't interfere."

"Under the circumstances, I'm sure Galen will be willing to reschedule the coronation." Caitlin might not be the power behind the throne that her mother thought she was, but she could promise that much.

"There is a great deal to do to prepare. You'll arrange things."

"Of course," Caitlin responded, unwilling to deny her mother in these circumstances. There was silence for another moment. "You know that I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

"Alexandria hasn't been around recently, has she?"

"No."

"Pity. She's useful for things like this. I'll handle the arrangements. You make sure everybody comes."

Caitlin breathed a sigh of relief. "Everybody I can. Unfortunately, half the family's gone off in search of father and is out of contact."

Elanora gave her a hard look, as if their absence was Caitlin's fault. "Who's missing?"

"Dexter and, thank god, Carton."

Elanora sighed, but not too heavily. Those were, perhaps, people whose presence she could do without. "Deirdre?"

"Somewhat insane, but present."

If that sparked Elanora's curiosity, she gave no sign. "You'll speak at the funeral. You can tell everyone how he died. Until then, I don't want to know about it."

Caitlin nodded. The silence stretched again.

"He would have made a good king," Elanora said suddenly and sighed. "Now we'll need another heir. I'm afraid those years are behind me. You'll have to get to work on that, Caitlin."

Elanora turned and swept out of the room, leaving her daughter completely speechless for the third time that day.

Caitlin stayed, standing over Theodore's body for a long time. It was only then, three days too late, that she realized that the whole thing with Ambrosius, the entire circus of messengers running around the city and the half hour delay in getting Galen and Mirabelle to the infirmary had been completely unnecessary. She'd had a Trump of her mother, who had certainly been in Castle Amber, the whole time. How odd that she'd never thought of that until just now.