“I told you we should have brought him into the Inner Circle,” said Penny. “Keep your enemies close, and all that.”

“No,” I said flatly. “I don’t trust him.”

“You keep saying that, but you won’t say why.” Penny waited, but I had nothing more to say. She sighed heavily. “All right, his best friend is a hellspawn, but you’re shacked up with the infamous witch of the wild woods. And you let her into the Inner Circle.”

“I trust Molly,” I said. “Hell, I even trust you, Penny dear. Harry, on the other hand . . . is perhaps a little too much like me. Crafty and devious and following his own flag.”

“You brought the Sarjeant-at-Arms into the Circle,” said Penny. “And you hate his guts. And you know very well he reports everything we say back to the Matriarch.”

“Cyril’s different,” I said. “I can trust him to put the good of the family first. Even over the Matriarch.”

“Well, much as I hate to interrupt this important bit of loafing about you’re so involved in, I have been sent to remind you very firmly, up to and including the use of violence if necessary, that it’s time for the Inner Circle meeting in the Sanctity. We’ve finally got a list of prospective candidates for the new torcs for you to take a look at.”

“About time,” I said, heaving myself gracelessly out of the deck chair. Not that far away, two teams of warriors in training lost their temper and jumped each other, brawling back and forth across the lawn with much flailing of fists, kicking, and occasional biting. Janissary Jane hurried over to bawl them out, and I decided it was time to leave them to it. They’d just have to manage without my moral support.

We all met in the Sanctity again, under the comforting crimson glow of the manifesting Strange. We’d all settled on that for his name, even though he kept plaintively insisting he felt much more like an Ethel. You have to draw the line somewhere. The Armourer was already there, of course, along with the Sarjeant-at-Arms. Molly was waiting at the door when Penny and I arrived. She gave Penny a long, hard look, and made a point of taking my arm in hers as we joined the rest of the Inner Circle.

“Jacob is still missing,” said the Armourer, not bothering with the usual hellos and how-are-yous. “It’s been two weeks since anyone’s seen him. He hasn’t been back to the old chapel, and even the headless nun has been asking rather plaintively what’s happened to him. Though what she sees in him . . . I’m beginning to think something’s happened to him.”

“How could anything have happened to him?” said Penny. “I mean, he’s dead. Has been for centuries.”