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“Of course,” he says. “Sub Rosa.”

The prick knows I can do hoodoo. He’s probably known all along.

“That thing earlier about Mimir telling you not to trust me. You wanted to see if I’d deny it.”

“Yes.”

“But if I denied it, I would be telling the truth.”

“Yes.”

“Then what would it tell you?”

“Enough.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Not to you, but to me, and that is sufficient for my purposes.”

I let the hammer down on the Colt, but I keep hold of Daja.

“Why would you keep my secret?”

“What’s Sub Rosa?” says Daja.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with right now, my dear,” he says. “And please do not repeat the phrase to anybody outside this room.”

I’ve lost a lot of blood, enough that I’m not sure if I’m more relaxed with the situation or my blood pressure is dropping. Either way I say, “Even though you knew about me, you still weren’t sure about me. With all your tricks for reading the dead, you still weren’t sure.”

He moves some shiny things around on his desk. Map-reading tools.

“You Sub Rosa are difficult to read. I wanted to trust you, but perhaps I was wrong. It has happened. Not often, but it has happened.”

“Like today.”

“Unfortunately.”

I let go of Daja. She sags against the table, but it’s a feint. She throws an elbow back at my head. I move back to avoid it, but end up smashing my head into a cabinet anyway. She lunges for her knife, but I still have the Colt. We’re stuck there with her knife to my throat and my pistol to her face.

The Magistrate gets up and comes around the table. Gently, he pushes both of our hands down.

“Children. Relax. Everything is all right now. We are all friends, tested in battle and this somewhat convoluted peace.”

Daja seems to do whatever he says, and I’m too tired to die right now. Daja puts her knife in its sheath and I put the Colt at my back. My head swims enough that I have to sit down. The Magistrate kneels next to me and opens my coat.

I stare at him a little cross-eyed.

“‘Somewhat convoluted’?”

“Trust me, Pitts. I’ve played games much more tangled than this.”

“I need a drink.”

I hold Daja’s empty glass out to her.

“You need one, too.”

She smacks it out of my hand.