Someone else was.
“I’m calling about the Tears of Apollo,” I told him evenly. “Rhea said she asked you for them.”
“She did.”
“She also said she told you why. My acolytes—”
“Will not obtain any from us.”
I concentrated on the apple, which might have darkened a shade, although that could have been my imagination. And told myself to keep my voice steady. Because that had sounded a lot like “and neither will you.”
“You can’t know that,” I pointed out. “They can shift in anywhere. Agnes trained them herself, and they seem to have paid attention.”
“A fact of which you would be unaware had you not sought them out.”
“They’re my responsibility—”
“A great many things are your responsibility, and those girls are the least of it!”
“Not if they obtain the Tears,” I said, staying calm, because I had to. I had to do this right. “At best, it will leave me dealing with multiple Myras, and at worst—”
“There will be no worst, as they shan’t obtain any.”
And, okay, that staying calm thing was getting a little harder. The apple definitely blushed darker, which probably matched my face as I struggled to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Jonas, they were looking for the Tears when I met up with them. They killed Elias for them—”
“For which they will be brought to account, I assure you.” He sounded grim. “But that can be left to us. You need to concentrate on other things—”
“I can’t concentrate on other things until I’m sure about the Tears! Send them to me, whatever stock you have, and then we can—”
“I can’t do that.”
“Damn it, Jonas! We’re supposed to be allies!” I said, and belatedly noticed that the apple was now slimy apple mush, and seriously gross.
Tami handed me a paper towel.
“A fact you seem to be forgetting of late.” It was acid. “But at any rate, I couldn’t send them to you if I wished to.”
“And why not?”
“For the same reason I know the acolytes will not obtain any from us. The last batch was sent to court a week before Agnes passed—”
“A week?”
“—and in her absence, naturally no more have been—”
Jonas was still talking, but I was having trouble hearing him over the sud
den roaring in my ears.
How much is a batch? I mouthed to Rhea.
Three.
Three?
“—and in any case, it requires six months to—Cassie? Cassie?”
• • •