Annan's gaze settled on the shadow beneath the hood. "My brother's sweetheart?" he ventured.
"What brother?"
"Maria is my partner, her younger brother Jerry is your lover, so that makes you my brother's sweetheart, doesn't it?"
At the thought of Jerry, a softness flickered through the vertical pupils beneath the hood, then gave way to resolve.
"You can call me Philos."
"All right, Philos, my brother's sweetheart."
Philos borrowed Annan's reasoning. "You're Maria's master. Jerry trusts his sister, and his sister trusts you. So I can trust you too."
"Thanks, but let me correct you on one thing. Maria is my partner, not my servant." Annan raised a finger. "Humans don't have a hierarchy as rigid as the ratfolk's. At least, we don't in Free City."
"Awkward humans," Philos said calmly. "I can only be active for an hour. We have thirteen minutes left to talk."
At the counter nearby, the Four-Handed Bee Demon set down an hourglass.
Annan suspected they actually had fourteen or fifteen minutes, but as he'd said before, ratfolk really loved the number thirteen. Mother Ratfolk even took pride in giving birth to thirteen pups in a litter.
Annan got straight to the point. "Was it your plan to have the Rat King enter the Bloody Battle?"
"Yes. Like me back then, he botched his mission. I'm a priest, so I don't have to bear responsibility for failure. The Rat King is different. Even if he clears his name, he can't become the Rat King again unless he uses the Bloody Battle."
"Are you confident?"
"About what?"
Philos wasn't sure whether Annan meant the Rat King's chances of winning or his chances of claiming power afterward.
"All of it."
Philos said the Bloody Battle had been decided by the McKennen High Priest and the clans themselves.