“I didn’t die,” I pointed out—which was a mistake, because it drew Agnes’ attention back to me.

“No, but you should have done,” she said. “But what do we have instead? Half healed wounds instead of bubbled flesh, scars that look weeks old instead of new and livid.” She grabbed my arm and pushed up the sleeve of the robe, displaying a heavily bruised expanse of flesh with an ugly ridge down the middle, like an inverted seam. Her eyes met mine, and hers narrowed. “When we brought you back, we could see bone.”

I jerked my arm back and scowled at her. “How would you know? You were half dead yourself, so tired you could barely stand, yet here you are—”

“Yes, dosed up on half a bottle of the Tears of Apollo, and still exhausted. But then, I’m only human.”

I started to retort, but paused, because anything I said could be dangerous. Agnes had been trained by Gertie to notice everything, to extrapolate from what she knew, and to goad others into revealing what she didn’t. Giving her anything to work with would be stupid.

“Believe what you like,” I finally said. “We’re not supposed to be talking—about any of this.”

“We are now. The restrictions have been lifted.”

“What?” I looked from her to Rhea, who was just standing there, biting her lip. “What do you mean? Gertie told you not to ask us anything—”

“She changed her mind. That’s how I discovered that I have a daughter—”

“Rhea!”

“—and, apparently, that I am the reason you are here at all. I save your life someday.” She looked like she found that as hard to believe as I often did.

I ignored her and glared at my acolyte, who had apparently lost her damned mind. “Did you get hit on the head?”

“Lady?” Rhea, who tended to be the literal type, looked confused.

“A brain bleed? A concussion? A seizure—”

She flushed.

“Rhea is fine,” Agnes said. “She had to tell me. We had things to discuss—”

“You absolutely did not!”

“—as you do, with Gertie.”

That was a dismissal if ever I’d heard one, which right now, was fine by me. Forget what I looked like; I needed answers. I spun on my heel and started for the door, but Agnes grabbed my arm.

“Wait. I understand that I owe you something.”

“For what?” I asked, pissed.

“For saving my daughter’s life.”

My eyes went back to Rhea, who flushed a darker shade. Looked like she’d decided to spill her entire guts. What the hell?

“I saved you,” Agnes said. “You returned the favor and saved her, along with the rest of my court. There is symmetry there, don’t you think?”