"-faggot-"

"-bubble and squeak-"

"-crumpets!" Fred said, starting to look a little worried.

I grinned, because Pritkin was Welsh, and the Welsh eat scary, scary things. "Laver bread," I said smugly. Nothing like seaweed first thing in the morning.

"Marmite!"

"Kedgeree-"

"Pancakes!"

"Pancakes are American."

"Shit, shit!"

"Give up?"

"No! No, I-"

"Ticktock, Fred."

"Marag freaking Dubh!" Fred said, looking desperate.

And then hopeful, when I hesitated.

And then laughed in his face. "-and fried potatoes!"

"Bullshit!" Fred pointed at me. "Bullshit!"

"What?"

"We already said that!"

"We did not."

"Yes, we did! We must have! You don't get to win on fried potatoes!"

"Mmm. Fried potatoes." I rubbed it in.

"Bullshit!"

"Fried potatoes do not count as a vegetable!" Rhea snapped.

And then suddenly clapped her hand over her mouth, in the realization that she had just yelled at the Pythia. She stared at me for a split second, in something approaching horror, and then ran out of the room. I sighed.

That hadn't exactly been the response I'd been hoping for.

"What?" Fred asked me. "She wasn't even playing."

"See that the kids get fed something," I told him, and went after her.

I found her in my bedroom, making up the bed. Which seemed kind of a waste, considering the state it was in. "I was going to have the bedspread changed," I began, only to have her rip it off. "Rhea, it's okay."

She shook her head, sending dark curls flying. "It's not okay! It's dirty. They should have changed this al-"

"Rhea-"

"-ready, in case you woke up and wanted to-"

"Rhea."

"-change beds or have a nap or-"

"Rhea!"

She abruptly stopped, clutching the awful bedclothes to her chest and staring at me.

"I don't need a maid," I pointed out.

And saw her face crumple. "Then I'm no use to you!"

"No use? You had the vision about Ares."

"And maybe I was wrong! I don't know anymore!"

"You weren't wrong."

"I don't-" She caught herself. "Yes, Pythia."

"Don't do that!"

She jerked, and flushed guiltily. "I-I'm sorry," she told me, gray eyes huge, although I doubted she had any idea what she was apologizing for.

"Or that," I said, moderating my voice. "I don't need an apology when you haven't done anything wrong."

"But you said-"

"That I don't want a yes, Pythia or a no, Pythia if that's not what you really think. I need someone who tells me the truth. Especially now." I glanced at the door, because no way everybody in the damned apartment couldn't hear us.

This whole lack-of-privacy thing was really starting to be a bitch.

"The truth is, I don't have visions," Rhea blurted as I looked back at her. "I don't have anything. I was supposed to be a seer-they tested me, and I passed. I passed, and you know they don't let you stay at the Pythian Court unless you score very high. But then-"

"No, I didn't know that," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to slow her down. "I wasn't brought up there."

"No," she agreed, casting a nervous glance at the door. "You grew up with them."

"Well, not with them, exactly. I grew up at the court of another vamp, a guy named Tony."

"He-he must have been good to you," she said, obviously trying for diplomacy.

"Tony? Tony wasn't good to anybody. Tony was a bastard."

Rhea seemed taken aback by this information.

"Vamps are just people," I told her. "Good ones and bad ones and really irritating ones, just like anybody else."

"But . . ." She looked at the door again, and then did something in the air that I really hoped was a silence spell. And I guessed so, because she was suddenly a lot less tactful after it clicked into place. "They're not like anybody else!" she said fervently. "They can kill you-"

"A mage can kill you. A nonmagical human can kill you-"

"But they won't . . . they don't . . ."

"They don't what?"

"They don't eat you!"

I laughed. This didn't seem to go down well, either. "I'm sorry," I told her. "But Fred mostly eats tacos."

"But they have to feed on us," she hissed, in an undertone, despite the spell. "They can't live otherwise."

"No, they can't."

"So the children . . ."

I blinked. "You're worried about-no."

"But they're here. And they're so vulnerable. And I can't protect them if-"

"Rhea!" She stopped, face pale, arms still grasping the pillow. And looking oddly childlike herself. It made me wonder how old she was.

So I asked.

"N-nineteen, Lady."

"Nineteen?" I'd have guessed older. Maybe because everyone else seemed to defer to her.

"I know." She looked chagrined. "It's old. But they needed someone in the nursery, and I didn't have anywhere else to go, and-"

"Since when is nineteen old?"

"For the Pythian Court it is, if you're not selected."

"Selected?"

"To be trained as an acolyte. They assist the Pythia, advise her, help her on her missions-"

"Good. Because I could really use some of that." I put a hand out. "Congratulations. You can be my first acolyte."

And, okay, that didn't go so well, either, I thought, as Rhea jerked back, and started shaking her head violently. "No, no, no!"

"Rhea-"

"You don't understand! It doesn't come to me! It doesn't! I've tried and tried and-"

"What doesn't come to you?"

"Anything!" she said passionately. "That's why I take care of the nursery! It was the only thing they found I could do. I was good with the little ones, but everything else . . . I can't-"

"Rhea!" I put some power behind my voice, because the girl was wigging out. "Listen to me. I don't know what else you were supposed to do, but you've already done the stuff I need, okay? You've already done it."

"I haven't done anything."

"Okay. Then I was imagining you at the coronation? You weren't there?"

"No. I mean-I was there. I saw what you-"

"We're not talking about me. Why were you there?"

"To-to tell you about the acolytes. I'd had a vision-at least I think I did; I don't have visions-"

"But you saw something that time," I prompted.

She nodded.

"And the acolytes noticed and asked you about it. And you realized that they were happy at the thought of the god of war returning and kicking all our butts."

She nodded some more. She was starting to remind me of a Pythian bobblehead.

"So you figured they'd joined the other side. And since Agnes was dead, you managed to get invited along to the big party for her successor so you could do what? Eat appetizers?"

"No! To warn you! To tell you what I'd seen-"

"So . . . to assist and advise me?"

She had been about to say something, but at that she abruptly shut her mouth. And then opened it again after a minute. "No."

"No?"

"I wouldn't dream of advising the Pythia," she said primly, and I couldn't help it. I lay back on the bed and laughed again.

God, I was losing it.

"My Lady-"

"Stop it." I told her when her concerned face appeared above mine.