"Doctors?" said Ron, looking startled. "Those Muggle nutters that cut people up?" -- J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

By order of the king almost the entire royal family was assembled in the throne room before Mirio's carriage had even entered the palace gates. There were only two people missing. The Second Prince, Zi Guang, and the Ninth Prince, Zi Yao. Both of them were too ill to be expected to wait for hours in the cold throne room. The Ninth Prince would be summoned when his cousin arrived and not before. The Second Prince would not be summoned at all.

Last night Lian had examined the Second Prince. He reported his conclusions to the king afterwards.

"I see no cause for immediate concern," he'd said. "The Second Prince has a slight fever, but his temperature is already lower than it was when the Imperial Physician checked this morning."

All the same, the king ordered the Second Prince not to leave his room until his fever was completely gone. That still left the other six surviving princes, the ten princesses, the queen, the three consorts, the nine royal concubines[1], and of course the king himself. Add to that the king's siblings, the ministers, the court officials, and the servants, and the Dragon Palace's throne room and courtyard were packed to capacity.

On the other side of the palace Bai Jiu struggled to get the Ninth Prince ready. It was a very difficult task when he had spent the last hour playing in the mud and wanted nothing more than to keep doing that.

"Don't want a bath! Don't wanna don't wanna don't wanna!"

For all that his health was so delicate there was certainly nothing wrong with his lungs.

Wu She, the eunuch who was Zi Yao's main attendant, carried the screeching prince over to the bathtub with the resigned expression of someone facing a terrible ordeal. He and Bai Jiu tried to take off His Highness's outer clothing. The Ninth Prince screamed like he was being murdered. Eventually Wu She had to hold his arms behind his back while Bai Jiu undid the fastenings of his tunic. Once he was in his underwear the two of them lifted him into the bath in spite of his protestations.

Bai Jiu turned away for a minute to look for the soap. A thump, a pained groan, and a splash made her head snap round. The Ninth Prince had just hit Wu She with the handle of a dagger -- where did he even get a weapon? What idiot had he stolen it from? -- and scrambled out of the bath. He made a wild dash for the door, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him. The cleaners would be absolutely delighted to see that.

The door opened just as His Highness reached for the handle. The surprise made the Ninth Prince slip and fall to the floor. He immediately began to sob as if he was badly injured.

If he had been an ordinary boy Bai Jiu would have boxed his ears like she did when her brothers were being idiots. Unfortunately he was a prince, and so she had no choice but to pretend she wasn't annoyed with his behaviour and act as if he had some real reason to cry.

She hurried over, pretending not to see Lian standing in the doorway with the most bemused expression she'd ever seen him wear. Behind her Wu She grumbled under his breath about the bruise on his head.

"Are you hurt, your Highness?" she asked even though she knew he wasn't. This loud, constant crying wasn't the way he behaved when he was truly in pain. This was sheer histrionics.

The Ninth Prince continued to sob like he'd just heard his entire family were dead. Lian recovered from his surprise and knelt down next to him.

"A-Yao[2]," he said. Bai Jiu's mouth fell open at this presumptuously familiar way of addressing the prince. "You want to see your cousin, don't you? You told me you want to show him your drawings."

His Highness briefly stopped fake-crying while he considered this.

"You have to take a bath before you can see him."

Like all two hundred year olds[3] the Ninth Prince viewed baths as an evil to be avoided at all costs. He wasn't about to give in without a fight.

"Don't wanna!" he wailed piteously.

Lian donned his calmest, most gentle smile. That particular smile was notorious all through the palace for being his default expression in unpleasant situations. One of the princes attempted a coup? An argument broke out between the imperial physicians? Someone dropped dead in the middle of a banquet? No matter what sort of event he was witnessing, Lian always wore the same smile. It drove most of the palace out of their minds. You could understand a man who scowled and grumbled, but what were you to make of a man who just smiled when any sane person would be furious?

He scooped up the struggling boy, walked over to the bath, and put the Ninth Prince down in it before Bai Jiu and Wu She realised what was happening. Both of their mouths dropped open. They exchanged matching expressions of dumbfounded disbelief. No one could carry a prince around so casually! It was a shocking breach of decorum!

His Highness made another attempt to escape. He caught Lian's eye just as he tried to scramble out of the bathtub and promptly thought better of it.

"Hurry up and wash him," the doctor told the servants. "His Majesty will summon him soon."

Bai Jiu bristled. No one except her direct superiors had the right to order her around like that. Lian's status in the royal household was complicated but he was certainly no more than a servant himself. She nearly gave into the temptation to make a rude gesture at him when his back was turned. As she raised her hand he whirled round so abruptly that she felt sure he knew what she meant to do.

Reluctantly she bowed and went over to the bathtub. Wu She followed silently. He carefully avoided looking in Lian's direction. As they knelt down beside the tub they exchanged looks. Both of them were thinking the exact same thing.

Who does he think he is?

Within twenty minutes the Ninth Prince was clean, dry, and having his official court robes put on against his will. Lian still hadn't left. He lurked in the background like a bird of prey about to swoop down on an unsuspecting mouse. It was starting to wear on Bai Jiu's nerves. What was he here for anyway? He had checked on the Ninth Prince this morning and pronounced there was no danger of him having another seizure.

At last His Highness was ready. In his dark red cross-collar robe -- a miniature replica of the clothes worn by his older brothers who'd already come of age -- he looked like a proper prince and not the muddy brat who'd given his servants such a headache earlier. Judging by his disgruntled expression and the way he pulled at the robe's collars when he thought no one was looking, he wasn't nearly as happy with how well he looked as the adults were.

"Come on now," Lian said, holding out his hand. With a start Bai Jiu realised he intended to bring the prince to the throne room himself. That job should go to His Highness's servants! "Your father will want to see you now."

The Ninth Prince happily took Lian's hand and toddled after him. Once again Bai Jiu and Wu She exchanged dumbfounded looks.

"It must be allowed. He'd never dare do anything the king forbade," Wu She whispered.

Bai Jiu wasn't nearly as sure about that. Ever since he came here Lian had demonstrated a willingness to ignore rules and cross boundaries. And it was worrying to see how much he'd ingratiated himself with the Ninth Prince.

It had been over fifty years since Mirio last visited the Dragon Palace. Very few of the buildings had changed. There were a handful of new faces among the ministers and a few alterations in his uncle's family. He kept up a running mental commentary on all the differences he spotted.

As he climbed out of the carriage he glanced around at the bowing politicians. Minister Xiao is fatter than ever. Minister Peng still looks like a weasel. Is that Minister Zhu? Whatever happened to his hair?

On the way up the stairs into the throne room he thought, Something must have happened here. Those are scorch marks on the stone.

When he got into the throne room he took note of his cousins. Zi Yi and Zi Xian are ignoring each other. Zi Su is smiling; he must be up to something. Zi Qing has been drinking. Zi Yang looks so miserable she must have been forced to attend at knife-point. Zi Guang isn't here at all. Zi Zhen looks like he's half-asleep. Zi Ming is bored out of his mind. Zi Yao is...

His thoughts screeched to a halt when he saw the person standing behind his youngest cousin. The royal court of Gengxin contained many strange and colourful characters, but this was the first time he'd ever seen a Saoridhin dressed in Gengxinese clothes attending an official event.

The stranger stared right at Mirio. His eyes were unusually large even for a Saoridhin and the colour of silver. Not like Abi's eyes, which were a shade of silver that was closer to pale bluish-grey, but pure silver like the metal. The effect was extremely eerie and almost frightening.

Feeling absurdly rattled, Mirio looked away from the stranger as he greeted his uncle and cousins. Then there was the exchange of gifts, the polite enquiries after the health of the absent Second Prince, the offering of condolences on the death of the Crown Prince, and finally the announcement of an official banquet which would begin in an hour. Mirio was already mentally calculating if it would be possible to take a bath as well as change his clothes in that hour.

Through the entire lengthy ceremony the foreigner never left Zi Yao's side. When at last Zi Yao grew fidgety and was dismissed, the foreigner accompanied him out of the throne room. Mirio noticed several of his cousins watching their departure with barely-veiled dislike. He couldn't think of any reason they would dislike Zi Yao so much -- it wasn't as if such a young boy could have done anything to earn their enmity -- so he could only assume they disliked the foreigner.

Strange. Very strange.

After finishing his ice cream Shizuki wanted to find a bookstore that would have the latest novel in his favourite series.

"Won't your father be worried about you being away for so long?" Irímé asked.

Shizuki shook his head. "He knows I can hide if I have to. And I can bite anyone who won't leave me alone."

Irímé thought of the first assassin. He'd died within half an hour of being bitten by Shizuki and Koyuki. "...Oh."

He checked his watch. There was enough time to do some shopping before the next train was due. So the two of them set off for the town's only bookstore.

Ten minutes later they got on the train with their arms full of books. Not only had Shizuki got the book he wanted, he'd found a dozen more that he hadn't read yet. And since he hadn't any money of his own Irímé had agreed to buy them for him. The only reason they didn't have even more books was that Irímé hadn't brought much money with him.

Irímé was beginning to suspect that Shizuki was taking advantage of an opportunity to get as many books as possible at someone else's expense. At least the novels kept Shizuki occupied for the train journey. Irímé imagined what sort of trouble a bored shapeshifter could cause on a train and was suddenly very glad he'd been talked into buying so many books.

The journey from the train station to Gihimayel Palace was a very uncomfortable one. Fourteen books were heavy. By the time they reached the palace Irímé had stopped being glad about them and was instead thinking some very uncomplimentary things about Shizuki -- and the authors' decisions not to write shorter books.

To his surprise they found Siarvin and Abi standing outside the palace. Abi's eyes were closed. She didn't look round as they approached. Siarvin looked very grim.

"What's happening?" Shizuki asked.

"Necromancy," Siarvin said.

Irímé glared at Abi. "I thought you'd given that up!"

"I have," Abi said without opening her eyes. "There've been... complications. Don't distract me."

What does she mean by complications? Irímé thought, alarmed. That was not a word anyone ever wanted to hear in connection with dark magic.

A terrible screech came from inside the palace, followed by a tremendous crash. Abi's eyes flew open. She swore and cast some sort of spell at the front door. Another crash came from behind it. This time the door shook as if something had struck it with great force.

"What's in there?" Irímé asked nervously. "Abi? Abi, what's making that noise?"

Abi didn't answer. She'd gone very pale. With an unpleasant shock Irímé realised she was holding a magical barrier in place against the door. The sort of barrier that was generally used to keep people out of a place...

Or to keep something in.