Toff wanted to speak up immediately; he didn't mind being out all night during calving season. Father Willow didn't talk much but at least he didn't ignore Toff like so many of the others did. Besides, nights were almost as well-lit as the days, but calling it night meant it was the time designated to sleep. Father Tiearan said it was the only way to keep order in the village.

"Zervias would have counseled us, but he is no longer here. The Queen allowed him to leave." Corent had walked closer to the door and Toff could hear him now.

"Zervias," Redbird snorted. "He left us when we needed him most."

"I do not blame him—we failed to listen to him when it was important."

"And what would you have done differently? Tell me that!" Redbird was angry.

"You know what should have been done differently." Corent was angry as well. Toff tiptoed away.

Chapter 3

Kifirin had come for dinner—a rare occurrence. Ry and Tory ignored that for the moment; Uncle Shadow had come and brought Sissy with him. Their mother was nearly in tears when she saw her daughter.

"It's okay, Mom, really," Sissy said, hugging her mother.

"Nissa, honey, your dad needs to bring you more often."

"You could come to Grey House," Shadow muttered. Queen Lissa turned sharply toward Uncle Shadow. "I'm just saying," Uncle Shadow had both hands up; whether in defense or resignation, Ry couldn't tell.

"And you know why I won't," Lissa snapped.

"Lissa, Dad and Grampa want to apologize. Really. But you cut them off every time." Uncle Shadow attempted to defend himself.

"I might have thought about it, until they took my Nissy away. At age six, no less." Ry gave Tory a look. They were going over this old ground. Again.

"Lissa," Uncle Shadow sighed and pulled a chair out at the long table in the family dining hall.

"I'll shut up, but I won't forget," Lissa said and pulled her chair out before anyone else could get to it.

"Uncle Roff's here," Tory whispered as he took his seat next to Ry at the table. When the Queen sat, everyone else could sit. Somebody was supposed to pull her chair out for her, though. She was angry and kept everyone from helping her. Roff had come in late, too—it looked as if he'd rushed through a shower to get to dinner on time. His hair looked slightly damp and his wings weren't held as snugly against his back as they normally were. Ry figured that Roff was letting them dry out before folding them tightly.

Ry and Tory were fascinated with Roff's wings. When he had them fully spread, they measured more than twelve feet across, wingtip to wingtip, and felt like the softest leather. Roff had let them touch when they were younger. They now knew that Roff was being patient with them—his wings were sensitive, though he often used them as a weapon when he sparred with someone on the practice grounds. Lissa remarked once that wings like Roff's, which resembled those of a bat, were the basis for the old myths. When Ry asked what myths, his mother had brushed off the question. Ry still didn't have an answer for that.

Roff had also taken them flying a time or two, when their mother wasn't around. Tory and Ry knew their mother would be frightened to death to know her boys were taken up so high without her knowledge.

"Is your mother pissed?" Erland Morphis sat in the empty chair next to Ry.

"A little. With Uncle Shadow." Ry whispered low, though he knew his mother still might hear.

"No surprise." Erland Morphis dropped a napkin in his lap and accepted a glass of wine from one of the comesuli servants. "I heard there was some excitement earlier."

"We had an earthquake. Or what felt like one," Ry grinned at his father. Erland pulled Ry against him and kissed the top of his son's head before letting him go.

"That's for coming in late for your lessons," Erland laughed at Ry's embarrassment.

"Let me guess, you were late, too." Gardevik Rath sat next to Tory.

"I was." Tory didn't lie to his father. For any reason. Both boys knew not to attempt to lie to their mother. Uncle Tony always said she could smell a lie a mile away.

"Did Morwin give you extra work?" Garde sipped his wine.

"No, Dad."

"Then you're getting more inventive with your excuses."

"Maybe." Tory was trying to hide a grin. "Dad, I need to go shopping. Sissy's birthday is almost here."

"I think your Aunt Glindarok wants to go off-planet. Your Uncle Jayd said he'd take her. Do you want to go when she goes?"

"Yeah. That will work out great. Thanks."

"I'll let her know. She'll contact your mother."

"I want to go, too." Ry interrupted.

"Why would I ask Glinda to take only one of you, when I know you can't bear to be apart?" Gardevik reached across Tory to tousle Ry's hair. "You're worse than twins."

Ry grinned at Uncle Gardevik. He liked his High Demon uncle quite a bit. The only trouble was, Uncle Garde, with his dark hair and good looks, didn't appear different from any other humanoid, most of the time. You'd never know he was High Demon until he became angry and smoke curled from his nostrils. Ry hadn't seen Uncle Garde go Thifilathi, but Tory had. Uncle Garde had forced the turn for Tory, so he could see what he might be someday. Tory said that it would be frightening to anyone who didn't know what they were seeing.

Ry had seen all the life-sized sculptures of High Demons in Full Thifilathi inside King Jayd's palace, too. Unlike the smaller Thifilathi that all male High Demons had, only Full Thifilathi likenesses lined the marble halls of the High Demon palace on Kifirin. Yes, the whole planet was named after Uncle Kifirin. Ry and Tory were still trying to piece that puzzle together. All those statues at the High Demon palace stood around sixteen feet tall and depicted horns, lengthy canines and scale-covered torsos. Ry shuddered at the memory.

"Honey, are you all right?" Ry had drawn his mother's attention.

"My son is fine," Erland rubbed Ry's back before turning to smile at the Queen.

"Erland Morphis, he's my son, too," the Queen grumped.

"I know that," Erland was still smiling at Lissa. The Queen wrinkled her nose at Ry's father and went back to talking with Sissy.

"We think something's up, and I'd give anything to be in that Inner Circle meeting right now," Tory informed Sissy. They sat on Tory's long bed—the palace staff had brought in a larger one when Tory hit six feet. Sissy had light-brown hair—a mix of her father and mother. She had her father's gray eyes, though, and someday she would be a beauty. Anyway, that's what Tory's father said. Sissy kept her long hair in a braid most of the time, otherwise it curled furiously and she hated that.

"What are they talking about?" Nissa asked. "Tory, have you been eating in bed again?" She pointed to a stain on the edge of the coverlet.

"That's grape juice. I was hoping it would blend in," Tory muttered, flushing with embarrassment. He was hungry most of the time. Uncle Tony said it was because he was growing so quickly.

"Purple doesn't go with brown," Nissa teased.

"Could have fooled me," Ry tried to tickle his little sister.

"I think they're talking about the quake and the power outage," Tory wasn't getting in on the rumpus. "Uncle Tony said they hauled twenty tourists off to jail in Casino City. He didn't say, but I think they're worried that those people were expecting something like this. Uncle Tony said that people were trying to loot immediately. I wonder how Niff's managed."

"Niff's is fine; they have backup generators for all the freezers," Ry said, letting his sister go. She stopped giggling and settled into the crook of Ry's arm.

"You want to go see the two in the dungeon?" Tory changed the subject.

"There are two in the dungeon?" Nissa almost squeaked the question.

"Yeah. Both seventeen. Beat up a boy in the Green Fae village. Almost to death, that's what we heard," Ry nodded knowingly. "We went to see the boy yesterday, because we knew those two downstairs were lying when they said the other boy started it. If you saw him, you'd know just by looking that he didn't start anything. He said as much, but he also said that one of the Half-Fae put those two downstairs up to the whole thing. Tory and I think he may be right." Ry squeezed Sissy's shoulders and dropped his arm. "Want to go see? Uncle Drake and Uncle Drew are in the meeting, and Uncle Gavin and Uncle Tony are in there, too."

"But how are we going to get past the guards?" Nissa looked at both her brothers. She wanted to see this for herself, but knew she'd be in trouble if they got caught. Their mother didn't want them to go anywhere near the dungeons.

"I'll skip us in after bro here checks things out," Tory grinned. "That's what we did the last time."

"Let's go." Nissa liked intrigue just as well as anyone.

"Why do all the vids show dungeons as dark places with water dripping somewhere?" Nissa whispered as she followed her brothers down a well-lit corridor and past cells lining one wall. Each cell had a sink inside, in addition to a narrow bed made of spelled wood. The wood couldn't be torn apart to make any kind of weapon. The sheets and blankets were clean, too, as were the floor and walls.

"Those vids are just to frighten you," Ry whispered back. "People ought to be more afraid of losing their freedom."

"Practicing philosophy again?" Tory elbowed Ry.

"That's what Em-pah Wylend said. He's the philosopher," Ry poked Tory in the ribs. Tory's rubber-soled shoes squeaked on the stone floor as he attempted to get away from his brother.

"Will you two settle down?" Nissa hissed at her brothers. "We could get caught, you know."

"We'll behave," Tory said, slapping Ry on the back of the head.

"Hey," Ry went after Tory again. Nissa stopped still in the middle of the corridor and put her hands on her hips.