Privacy spell

Lara threw back her head and laughed girlishly. It was patently false and impossible not to find appealing. “You’re so funny. You’re always so funny, Harry.”
I blinked. Lara wasn’t exactly a ditzy party girl, but she was doing a damned good impression.
She recognized when I got that something was up. Her eyes tracked over to one side and followed Ramirez as he limped slowly along behind Listens-to-Wind and Martha Liberty, leaning on his cane. Their color shifted from medium grey to a more sparkling color with flecks of metallic silver. “Oh, that poor boy. So pretty and wounded and so many hang-ups. Are you quite sure he isn’t meant as a present?”
I heard a faint, sharp cracking sound, as if someone had snapped a couple of toothpicks. There was a whisper of power released into the air that I could barely detect, and a second later Freydis tucked a small, broken wooden plaque into her suit coat’s pocket and said, firmly, “Clear.”
Lara’s giggling ceased and her smile vanished. “We’ve got about a minute before the happytalk illusion fades. What have you got?”
I pushed out my senses enough to feel the neat little combination privacy spell and external illusion now veiling us. “Little. I put a man I trust on Justine.”


Peace Talks Chapter 20, Page 192-193