Me and My Shadow
Page 23
I punched it in the shoulder.
“I’m just sayin’!”
“Well, stop it!” I said, waving my fist at it.
“If one of my wrath demons allowed you to get the better of it, then I can assure you it was not due to inef fectiveness,” Bael said dryly as he moved around to sit behind a large, ebony desk.
“Yeah? Then why would . . . shutting up,” Jim said, having accurately read the look in Bael’s eyes.
“And about time, too,” Magoth said, grumpily shoving the demon aside to stand before his boss.
Bael, without looking up, waved a hand toward me. I took the chair he indicated. Magoth waited a moment, but no such nicety was extended to him. With audible grinding of his teeth, he hauled over a chair from against the wall to sit in front of the desk, plopping down into it with a rude noise caused by bare flesh on glossy leather.
Bael, in the process of opening a drawer, froze for a moment, but he pulled out a laptop and set it in the exact center of his desk without comment.
I glanced at Magoth. He had a testy look on his face, his legs mercifully crossed, his fingers drumming out an annoying tattoo on the chair’s arm.
“You go ahead. Evidently my business is not nearly so important as that of my slave, my minion, my consort.” His lips were tight as he answered the question in my eyes.
My curiosity prodded me to ask Bael, “I don’t mean to harp on a subject you probably would like to forget, but are you saying your wrath demon held itself back when I was here a few months ago?”
I hesitated to bring up the reason why Jim and I had been in Abaddon, lest it rub a raw spot.
Bael flipped open the top of the laptop, and punched a couple of keys with laconic pokes of his long fingers. “That is correct.”
“Why?” I asked, remembering the scene well. The wrath demon Jim and I had disarmed sure didn’t seem to have been holding back anything.
“You are a dragon,” Bael answered, his eyes on the laptop screen.
Magoth snorted and said something rude under his breath.
“And?”
Bael heaved a sigh, as if my questions were too tiresome to answer. “I find it best to adhere to a policy of noninvolvement with members of the weyr.”
“And yet that doesn’t stop you from holding a wyvern prisoner,” I pointed out.
He waved a graceful hand toward me. “That was different. I did not seek to control the wyvern—she was sent to Abaddon, sent to my palace specifically. I merely provided her with . . . accommodations.”
I forbore to point out the obvious.
“Until, that is, you released her.” His eyes pinned me back, and I was very aware for a moment that he had enough power to squash me like a particularly ineffective bug. Then the dragon shard kicked in, filling me with dragon fire and a matching fierceness.
Bael’s gaze dropped, and I was possessed with the sudden knowledge that what he said was true—he might hold Chuan Ren prisoner when she had been thrown into his lap, but he did not want to tangle with any of the dragons. It was the dragon shard he was wary of, not me, but that knowledge gave me a little kernel of reassurance.
“Without my knowledge or express consent, I hasten to point out,” Magoth said quickly. “I did not, as you have claimed, order her to go against your wishes. I would never do that. I would never risk expulsion. It was all May’s doing. If anyone should be expulsed, it is she.”
“Oh, you did so tell me to do whatever I needed to do,” I said, unable to keep from arguing with him. The dragon shard made me feel cocky, as if Magoth posed no threat to my borrowed strength. “You said, and I quote, ‘I’m too busy to bother with your unimportant concerns. Feel free to do whatever you need to do, so long as it’s without me.’ And if that’s not consent, I don’t know what is.”
Magoth bristled, the temperature of the room dropping by a couple of degrees. “How can you lie like that in front of Lord Bael!”
“I don’t lie. You know that. And so does he.”
“I never—”
Bael held up a hand, which thankfully shut up Magoth.
“This discussion bores me. You have been judged and sentenced, Magoth. Your punishment has been duly bound upon you.”
“Not properly!” Magoth said, shooting me a couple of really nasty looks. I thought for a moment of setting his toes on fire, but managed to keep from doing so. He would probably consider it foreplay. “My rightful powers have not yet been restored.”
“It is for that reason I’ve had you brought here,” Bael said to me.
“Really? I assumed it was to chew me out for releasing Chuan Ren,” I said calmly, embracing the dragon heart’s strength. I felt particularly dragonish at that moment, allowing my fingers to change into curved, wickedly sharp claws as I tapped on the round-headed tacks pounded into the arms of the leather chair on which I sat. “It goes against my nature, but if you want me to beg you not to give Magoth back his powers, I am fully prepared to do so.”
“May!” Magoth gasped.
Jim snickered softly to itself.
Bael’s eyes lit with interest for a moment. “That might be . . . no. I suppose it would be best not to pursue that train of thought, tempting as it is. As you know, the Doctrine of Unending Conscious allows for a period of time before an expulsion is made permanent, a time during which the expulsed person may petition the princes for reinstatement.”
Magoth lifted his chin. “Which I have done. You rejected my petition. Therefore, according to the laws set down in the Doctrine, you must restore to me all the honors due me, including my full powers.”
I moved uneasily in the chair, the dragon shard filling my mind with all sorts of unlikely actions that were intended to keep Bael from doing just that.
Bael’s gaze flickered to me for a few moments before returning to his laptop. “The law states that powers must be given to their rightful owner, yes.”
“Fine, then,” Magoth said, standing up, one hand on his naked hip. “I don’t like it, but I will accept the expulsion. So long as I have my powers, I will simply turn my attention to ruling the mortal world. You can have my seat with my blessings.”
“I don’t need your—”
Bael’s terse response was interrupted by a whirlwind that suddenly burst through the door.
“I’m so sorry I’m late! I got held up disciplining one of my legions. You wouldn’t believe how insubordinate they were. I don’t know what the last demon lord was thinking, but she totally messed up my minions. Do you know that all they want to do is write software? But that’s a subject for another day. Did I miss it? Did I miss seeing you tell him? May, sugar! How lovely to see you again! And Magoth. Goodness! You’re starkers!”
“I’m just sayin’!”
“Well, stop it!” I said, waving my fist at it.
“If one of my wrath demons allowed you to get the better of it, then I can assure you it was not due to inef fectiveness,” Bael said dryly as he moved around to sit behind a large, ebony desk.
“Yeah? Then why would . . . shutting up,” Jim said, having accurately read the look in Bael’s eyes.
“And about time, too,” Magoth said, grumpily shoving the demon aside to stand before his boss.
Bael, without looking up, waved a hand toward me. I took the chair he indicated. Magoth waited a moment, but no such nicety was extended to him. With audible grinding of his teeth, he hauled over a chair from against the wall to sit in front of the desk, plopping down into it with a rude noise caused by bare flesh on glossy leather.
Bael, in the process of opening a drawer, froze for a moment, but he pulled out a laptop and set it in the exact center of his desk without comment.
I glanced at Magoth. He had a testy look on his face, his legs mercifully crossed, his fingers drumming out an annoying tattoo on the chair’s arm.
“You go ahead. Evidently my business is not nearly so important as that of my slave, my minion, my consort.” His lips were tight as he answered the question in my eyes.
My curiosity prodded me to ask Bael, “I don’t mean to harp on a subject you probably would like to forget, but are you saying your wrath demon held itself back when I was here a few months ago?”
I hesitated to bring up the reason why Jim and I had been in Abaddon, lest it rub a raw spot.
Bael flipped open the top of the laptop, and punched a couple of keys with laconic pokes of his long fingers. “That is correct.”
“Why?” I asked, remembering the scene well. The wrath demon Jim and I had disarmed sure didn’t seem to have been holding back anything.
“You are a dragon,” Bael answered, his eyes on the laptop screen.
Magoth snorted and said something rude under his breath.
“And?”
Bael heaved a sigh, as if my questions were too tiresome to answer. “I find it best to adhere to a policy of noninvolvement with members of the weyr.”
“And yet that doesn’t stop you from holding a wyvern prisoner,” I pointed out.
He waved a graceful hand toward me. “That was different. I did not seek to control the wyvern—she was sent to Abaddon, sent to my palace specifically. I merely provided her with . . . accommodations.”
I forbore to point out the obvious.
“Until, that is, you released her.” His eyes pinned me back, and I was very aware for a moment that he had enough power to squash me like a particularly ineffective bug. Then the dragon shard kicked in, filling me with dragon fire and a matching fierceness.
Bael’s gaze dropped, and I was possessed with the sudden knowledge that what he said was true—he might hold Chuan Ren prisoner when she had been thrown into his lap, but he did not want to tangle with any of the dragons. It was the dragon shard he was wary of, not me, but that knowledge gave me a little kernel of reassurance.
“Without my knowledge or express consent, I hasten to point out,” Magoth said quickly. “I did not, as you have claimed, order her to go against your wishes. I would never do that. I would never risk expulsion. It was all May’s doing. If anyone should be expulsed, it is she.”
“Oh, you did so tell me to do whatever I needed to do,” I said, unable to keep from arguing with him. The dragon shard made me feel cocky, as if Magoth posed no threat to my borrowed strength. “You said, and I quote, ‘I’m too busy to bother with your unimportant concerns. Feel free to do whatever you need to do, so long as it’s without me.’ And if that’s not consent, I don’t know what is.”
Magoth bristled, the temperature of the room dropping by a couple of degrees. “How can you lie like that in front of Lord Bael!”
“I don’t lie. You know that. And so does he.”
“I never—”
Bael held up a hand, which thankfully shut up Magoth.
“This discussion bores me. You have been judged and sentenced, Magoth. Your punishment has been duly bound upon you.”
“Not properly!” Magoth said, shooting me a couple of really nasty looks. I thought for a moment of setting his toes on fire, but managed to keep from doing so. He would probably consider it foreplay. “My rightful powers have not yet been restored.”
“It is for that reason I’ve had you brought here,” Bael said to me.
“Really? I assumed it was to chew me out for releasing Chuan Ren,” I said calmly, embracing the dragon heart’s strength. I felt particularly dragonish at that moment, allowing my fingers to change into curved, wickedly sharp claws as I tapped on the round-headed tacks pounded into the arms of the leather chair on which I sat. “It goes against my nature, but if you want me to beg you not to give Magoth back his powers, I am fully prepared to do so.”
“May!” Magoth gasped.
Jim snickered softly to itself.
Bael’s eyes lit with interest for a moment. “That might be . . . no. I suppose it would be best not to pursue that train of thought, tempting as it is. As you know, the Doctrine of Unending Conscious allows for a period of time before an expulsion is made permanent, a time during which the expulsed person may petition the princes for reinstatement.”
Magoth lifted his chin. “Which I have done. You rejected my petition. Therefore, according to the laws set down in the Doctrine, you must restore to me all the honors due me, including my full powers.”
I moved uneasily in the chair, the dragon shard filling my mind with all sorts of unlikely actions that were intended to keep Bael from doing just that.
Bael’s gaze flickered to me for a few moments before returning to his laptop. “The law states that powers must be given to their rightful owner, yes.”
“Fine, then,” Magoth said, standing up, one hand on his naked hip. “I don’t like it, but I will accept the expulsion. So long as I have my powers, I will simply turn my attention to ruling the mortal world. You can have my seat with my blessings.”
“I don’t need your—”
Bael’s terse response was interrupted by a whirlwind that suddenly burst through the door.
“I’m so sorry I’m late! I got held up disciplining one of my legions. You wouldn’t believe how insubordinate they were. I don’t know what the last demon lord was thinking, but she totally messed up my minions. Do you know that all they want to do is write software? But that’s a subject for another day. Did I miss it? Did I miss seeing you tell him? May, sugar! How lovely to see you again! And Magoth. Goodness! You’re starkers!”
