Blood Spirits by Sherwood Smith

in the family dies, or a friend. Or a leader.”
    â€œOkay,” I said. “And tonight?”
    â€œTraditionally, the others of the five families host a wreath-gathering for the bereaved family, and on the sixth day is the funeral. This custom dates back to . . .”
    The five families . Those were the highest ranking clans, the ones who’d been kicking the crown around between them for centuries. The highest number of kings came from Gran’s family, the Dsarets. Second runner up was Alec’s family, the Ysvorods. Tony and Ruli’s gang, the von Mecklundburgs, had mostly hooked up with royal princes and princesses. Remaining were the Trasyemovas and Beka’s family, the Ridotskis. I knew zip about either of these, having only met one Trasyemova, a teenager, at the masquerade ball last summer, before Tony abducted me right off the ballroom floor.
    I shifted my attention back to Beka. “. . . disrupted by the war years, and the absence of the Dsarets. There are of course two bereaved families, but as Milo’s health has kept him in London, Alec is alone of his, so there will be only one party. My grandfather is co-hosting tonight’s event, with my mother.” She raised her perfectly groomed winged brows and tipped her head. “I invite you as my guest.”
    â€œBut won’t they be talking about Ruli? Won’t that be horrible if I’m there? They wouldn’t expect me to give a testimonial, would they?”
    â€œNo, no,” Beka said. “Sometimes the person is remembered, but it is entirely informal. Wreath parties were meant as social cheering for the bereaved—a chance for the five families to be together. The formal testimonials, as you say, are done at the vigil, the night before the funeral.”
    â€œI think it’s a great idea!” Nat exclaimed, then gave me a scrutinizing glance. “Even though there won’t be any dancing or whoopee, Beka’s crowd isn’t quite the thrift store types. You got any fancy clothes?”
    â€œI bought two nice outfits in London. In case. That’ll have to do,” I said quickly. “I’m not borrowing any more of Ruli’s clothes. It’s too creepy.”
    Beka looked surprised. “We do have stores in Riev.” Then she made a slight grimace of regret. “Ah, I beg your pardon. I thought . . .”
    You thought about the Dsaret Treasure .
    Which wasn’t supposed to exist, as far as the world was aware. Milo and a handful of old folks knew what Gran’s dad had done to liquidate and hide the royal treasure before World War II. Alec had been put in charge of it. Tony wanted to find it.
    I knew that the Prime Minister was in on the secret. I wondered if he had told Beka—or Alec had.
    That opened up a whole new can of wigglers, but I forced my mind back on topic. “I only brought enough cash for a couple days. I do have a credit card, but something—” Alec said “—that those are rare around here.”
    â€œTry useless,” Nat said, grinning.
    â€œI would think . . .” Beka’s brows rose, and she started again. “These things can be arranged. In any case, come to Ridotski House at eight.”
    â€œIs dark green okay, or do I need something black? I noticed everyone wearing dark colors.”
    Beka and Nat both nodded, and Beka said, “People will wear subdued colors—gray is most common—until after the funeral. Dark green will be fine.”
    She rose. “I had better return, for there is much to do.”
    Nat waved at us both. “And I’ve got three patients coming in this afternoon.”
    Beka and I crowded into the little vestibule in forced proximity once again, as we loaded on all that winter gear. She offered me a ride—I showed her my tokens—each of us determinedly polite. Then she was gone with a quick lift of her hand, and I started slipping and sliding toward the street