The treehouse sat high up in one of the older trees at the edge of the estate grounds. The Duke had built it years ago, back when Zara was small enough that climbing up to it felt like an achievement. Now it was just hers.
It was a single large room, roughly square, with wooden walls that had deliberate gaps between the planks where the wind came through.
A small window on each side. A sturdy rope ladder that did not sway even when the sea breeze came in from the harbor. It was rather fancy for a tree house but still was relatively normal compared to her room or the furnitures in it.
Inside the tree house it was packed. Zara had filled it over the years with things she had bought or collected and didn't want Maria or others commenting on. Odd trinkets, old books with cracked spines, fabric samples, a jar of shells, a broken compass she kept meaning to fix. None of it was arranged in any particular order.
She had told the maids it didn't need cleaning. Maria had never once mentioned the state of it, which Zara appreciated more than she said out loud. Maria understood the difference between what needed correcting and what needed leaving alone and giving Zara her needed space . The treehouse fell firmly into the second category.
Zara sat near the window with her legs folded and the box in both hands. Below she could see two guards moving along the tree line at a pace that was slightly too casual to be casual.
She sighed.
They were keeping an eye on her. She knew that. At least they kept their distance.
She looked around for a moment and after making sure no one was near her .
She wound the box. Once. Twice. Three times.
The click came.
Percy's voice followed.
Her eyes widened as she listened. She sat very still through the whole message, and when it ended she stayed quiet for a moment.
"Mr Ronan really does know a lot. I was right to speak to him."
She brought the box up and spoke once the message ended.
"It's alright, Mr Ronan. You can take your time. I'm not in any hurry to know the distance between us."
She paused.
"But I would like to know more about that person. The hazy one." Her voice picked up slightly. "How does a person appear that way. And if they knew magic "
She stopped herself. Then continued anyway.
"Are you able to do magic too?"
She immediately thought how childish that sounded. She decided to leave it regardless. The answer was worth the embarrassment.
A sound came from below. Footsteps on the rope ladder.
Zara set the box down quickly and shifted in front of it.
Maria's head appeared in the doorway. She stepped inside and looked at Zara, then tried to see past her. Zara tilted her head to the left. Maria looked right. Zara moved right. Maria looked left.
Zara smiled.
Maria's eyebrows came together.
"It's time to sleep, Lady Zara."
"Of course." Zara stood and gave a gentle push toward the door. "Let's go then."
Maria looked at her for another second. Then turned and went back down the ladder, not entirely satisfied but not pushing it either.
Zara followed, pulling the trapdoor shut behind her.
---
The street was quieter at this hour. Percy walked beside Lyro with his hands in his pockets, his body significantly warmer than it had been an hour ago. Whatever bitter thing Fiona had brought him in that cup had worked quickly.
Charles had been pulled away before they left. He had given Percy the details of the Doppelganger Oath in a few short sentences and left it to Lyro, who hadn't objected.
"How many times do I need to fulfill the Oath?" Percy asked.
"Until the spirit is satisfied," Lyro said without looking back.
"So there's no shortcut."
Lyro glanced at him. "Did I say that?"
Percy looked at him. "There is?"
"There is," Lyro said. "But don't get too excited. Everything has a price."
Percy nodded and waited.
"The abilities we use," Lyro continued, "they come from the spirit. We exchange life force, energy, things like that. It's always an exchange. Same goes for the Oath. You can make up quantity with quality. Do it fewer times but make each one count more."
Percy thought about the answer Lyro gave him.
"Don't strain yourself trying to work it out," Lyro said. "Most shortcuts aren't even known. Poltergeist's shortcut isn't something I know. Someone might, but they're not sharing it."
"Even within the Syndicate?" Percy asked. "Wouldn't stronger Haunted benefit the organization?"
"It's not about the organization," Lyro said. "The spirit applies a kind of secrecy to the shortcut. If you speak what you aren't supposed to you risk destabilizing the Oath. Risk possession." He shrugged. "So most people stay quiet. And the ones who do know tend to keep it to themselves."
"And the known shortcuts?"
"Not that effective," Lyro said. "And slightly different for everyone, even among the same spirit type."
Percy said nothing for a moment.
"So essentially I figure it out myself."
"Essentially," Lyro agreed.
They kept walking until they reached a secluded area, away from the main street.
Lyro stopped. "I'll finish my Oath here. You can try yours on me for the time being."
Percy nodded and recalled the Oath. "Study the appearance and actions of a person each day. The Oath of Reflection."
His eyes went hazy. A cold settled around them, it was not uncomfortable but regardless an odd feeling, he set the thought aside for now since he was focused on Lyro.
His vision sharpened. He could see every detail clearly. Lyro's left eye was slightly smaller than his right, something Percy hadn't noticed before. A faint mole sat on his left cheek, barely visible unless you were close enough. His jawline was sharp. And his nose was straight.
"That's probably why I don't like him," Percy thought.
"Done?" Lyro asked.
Percy nodded.
Lyro pulled a plastic bag from his coat and walked toward a nearby garbage box. He started picking through it, collecting rubbish piece by piece.
"What are you doing?" Percy asked.
"Finishing my Oath," Lyro said, not looking up.
Percy stared at him.
"Wasn't urinating on walls his Oath?"