“I’m quite sure,” Kordas said firmly, as the other Dolls led the false Golds and the three strings of tribute horses to their new home. “Off with you, my lad. Be sure and tell my lady everything that you saw here, and give her my best.”

The young fellows were clearly reluctant to leave, but even more reluctant to stay. “Very well, milord Duke,” the brave one said at last. “If you’re certain.”

“I’m certain, and you have families you need to return to,” Kordas repeated, and deliberately turned away from them. “Now, if you would be so kind, my friend, my Herald and I would greatly appreciate being taken to our quarters.”

But the Doll froze for a moment. “Great Lord Duke,” it said, after a moment. “This one is nothing. It cannot be a friend.”

“You certainly are not nothing,” he said, perhaps more sharply than he had intended. “And you certainly can be a friend.”

The Doll bowed its head briefly. “As you will,” it whispered, with an air of both uncertainty and—was it shock? “Please, come this way.”

The Dolls had picked up Merrin’s heavy luggage as if it was nothing, and they made light work of the two packs. Kordas glanced over at Beltran; the poor fellow’s eyes were as big as plates, and he looked just as reluctant to have anything to do with the Doll as the stablehands had been.

He patted Beltran on the shoulder. “It’s fine.”

“No, milord,” Beltran gulped. “It’s not fine. But I will do my duty.”

They followed the Doll up the steps of the main entrance to the Palace—two ridiculously huge doors that were at least two if not three stories tall, apparently made of solid bronze, and so perfectly balanced that he knew from being here as a child that they could be moved with a single fingertip. These stood open to the Entrance Hall.

This was a vast, echoing chamber with no obvious entrance or exit except those doors, but the walls were lined with Gate after Gate after Gate, each one framed in the same decorative metal arcs as the one they had passed through back at the manor. People and Dolls—mostly Dolls—were coming and going through them. The Doll with Kordas approached one of the Gates and spoke.

“The Copper Apartment,” it said. The mirror-surface of the Gate shivered, and cleared to reveal what looked like a fine antechamber; from here Kordas saw what looked like black and white checkered marble, some very uncomfortable-looking copper-colored furniture, and copper-colored walls.

The Doll stepped through, and Kordas and Beltran followed.

There was no sense of disorientation, probably because they weren’t actually going that far. The little antechamber was just about big enough to hold six to eight people without crowding, so the two humans and the three Dolls fit fine. The furniture—two chairs and something that passed for a little table between them—looked just as uncomfortable up close as it had through the Gate, all strange copper curves and very little padding. The Doll opened a single copper door into the apartment proper, and stood aside for them to go in.