James glanced at the clock on the mantel and said, “Lunchtime. Let’s not be late.” He appeared to struggle a little to get out of his chair, but he shook his head firmly when Owen moved to help him.
Arawn followed us to the dining room, then sat in the doorway without entering the room. “He’s not allowed inside,” Owen explained. “He used to beg at the table, so he was banished.”
“And who taught him that habit?” James muttered with a hint of a smile. I had to bite my lip to hold back a giggle as I recalled the way Owen was always giving his cat food off the table. He apparently hadn’t learned his lesson.
The dining room almost took my breath away. It looked like a room on display in one of those historical homes, preserved the way the famous family had once lived there, complete with antique period furnishings and museum-quality china. The china wasn’t just in a display case, either. It was set on the table in place settings right out of an Emily Post book. I got the feeling this wasn’t going to be a soup-and-sandwich lunch. Rod had warned me that the Eatons were formal, but this was more than I expected. My mom certainly had nice china, but it came out of the china cabinet only on major holidays. I wondered if they ate like this all the time.
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” Owen said. I could see the struggle in his face as he tried not to sound critical.
“Nonsense,” Gloria replied in a tone just short of snappish. “You’re company, and you’ve even brought a guest. I don’t get to entertain often these days, so I may as well take advantage of the opportunity.” Then she turned to me and I caught myself popping to attention. “Sit wherever you like, Katie. We don’t have assigned seats in this house.”
I noticed James edging toward a particular chair, so I hesitated and dawdled long enough to get a sense of where the others wanted to sit before I chose a chair. As I looked at the array of dishes, glasses, and silverware, I was glad my mom had taught me all the table rules. Once we were all situated, James said a quick grace, and then Gloria began passing serving dishes around the table.
Before I took my first bite of roasted chicken, I steeled myself for the interrogation I was sure was about to begin. There was a tense atmosphere in the room. In spite of the formal antiques, I had a sense of cold, bare cement, one of those harsh spotlights, and an inquisitor pacing the room in jackboots while slapping a riding crop against her palm. I tried to remain calm and remember the answers I’d mentally prepared about my background, my family, and my plans for the future.
But when the interrogation started, it wasn’t directed at me. “Work is going well?” Gloria asked Owen.
“Well enough,” he replied evenly.
“So Idris and his ally getting away isn’t causing you too many problems?”
Owen exchanged a glance with me. “You know about that?”
“We’re still in the loop, even out here.”
“Then, yes, it is causing us some problems. We’re working to track them down or figure out what they’re up to, but leads are scarce at this time.” He looked down at his plate and picked up a forkful of food.
As soon as Owen turned his attention from her, Gloria’s face softened. There was real concern in her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll catch him soon enough,” she said. “When you do, will you be up to dealing with him?”
Still looking at his plate, he answered, “I believe so. I did the last time.”
“As I recall, you nearly got yourself killed the last time. Didn’t you say it was only because of Katie that you weren’t hurt more seriously?”
I could feel my face growing warm at her mention, but none of them were looking at me. “Katie’s still around,” James said as he served himself another helping of green beans. “It’s her job to notice things like that. That’s why we recruit immunes.”
“We’ve been assigned as a team,” Owen added.
I wondered if I should chime in, but before I could think of anything to contribute to the discussion, Gloria was off on another tangent. “And what does Merlin have to say about all this?”
“It was his idea that we work together. We’re trying to prepare for any possibility, whether Idris just wants to disrupt us or whether he’s really trying to take over the magical world.”
“What do you think he’s doing?” James asked, his voice calm and neutral, but his eyes keenly focused on his foster son.
“I think he’s being used. He’s not the real threat. He may just be a diversion.” He looked directly at them then. “You were around the last time anyone made a real bid for power. How was that dealt with? There’s not a lot in the chronicles.”
James and Gloria exchanged a look that made chills go up and down my spine. If I wasn’t mistaken, they both looked scared to death. Owen frowned and bit his lip, which indicated he’d noticed that look, as well. They held the look for a while, and then Gloria nodded at her husband.
“The situations don’t compare,” James said, his voice as cool and calm as before, but with an edge underneath it. “That was a direct, obvious attempt at domination, while this appears to be a more subversive, oblique approach. We were able to take on those rogues with an all-out magical attack. Your enemy is hiding. This appears to have the makings of a magical guerrilla war.”
“I doubt there’s anything to learn from that particular bit of history,” Gloria added, her voice gentler than before. “There’s not much point in spending a lot of time studying it. You’d be better off talking to Merlin about Mordred and Morgana if you want to study the past. Would anyone care for seconds?”
It was a clear signal that that part of the conversation was over. Owen and I had barely made a dent in our food, and Gloria hadn’t touched hers yet, so I doubted she really felt like she needed to offer seconds. I worked up the nerve to say, “No, thank you, but it’s delicious.” She then turned her laser-sharp gaze on me, as if just then remembering that I was even in the room. I instantly regretted opening my mouth.
“Katie’s a pretty good cook, herself,” Owen said. “She does a lot of baking.”
I thought that would focus the interrogation on me, so I braced myself to describe what I could cook and how I’d learned, but she turned right back to Owen. “How is Rod doing? Is he coming home for Christmas?”
“I think he’s doing okay, but I don’t know what his plans are. We haven’t talked much in a while.”