Up In Smoke
Page 41
‘‘I do not know for certain either way—I am simply stating the facts as they are known. Regardless of the female’s identity, your description of the conversation increases my desire to meet this mysterious dragon.’’
I glanced at Maata. She watched me with close attention, clearly leaving it to me to tell Gabriel of the important happening.
‘‘There’s more,’’ I said. ‘‘Right after whoever-he-is left, Fiat and Bao had a few words.’’
‘‘That doesn’t surprise me,’’ Gabriel said. ‘‘Fiat has always been subject to volatile emotions, and he seems especially unstable now.’’
I took a deep breath. ‘‘More than you imagine. He beheaded Bao.’’
To my complete and utter surprise, he didn’t leap up or exclaim in shock. Instead he nodded. ‘‘I expected something of that sort.’’
‘‘You expected it?’’ I asked. ‘‘Why?’’
‘‘It relates to my news,’’ he said, rising to take my hands in his. ‘‘Two hours before you landed in Paris, Fiat sent a message to the weyr announcing that he had challenged and defeated Bao for control of the red sept.’’
‘‘He did no such thing. He murdered her, pure and simple,’’ I said, outraged. ‘‘There was no challenge language whatsoever—he just snatched a sword from the wall and lopped off her head. Or at least we assume that’s what he did; fortunately, his men covered up the two separate parts of her that they hauled off.’’
‘‘He has clearly overstepped the bounds of weyr laws and must be dealt with immediately.’’ Gabriel looked past me, sightlessly gazing out of the window. ‘‘The problem is—’’
‘‘May! You’re back! Oh, I’m so happy to see you again!’’
Gabriel froze at the bright, sickeningly chirpy voice, followed by the person of Sally.
She hurried into the room, clad in some sort of frilly pink and lavender capri pant set, her face beaming with joy as she stopped in front of me, kissing the air millimeters away from my cheeks.
‘‘Hello, Sally,’’ I said slowly. ‘‘I see you’re still here.’’
‘‘She says she can’t leave,’’ Gabriel said in a voice completely lacking in expression. I assumed it was his way of being polite.
She giggled, shooting him a flirtatious look. ‘‘May, there’s so much we have to talk about! That silly Magoth needed some me time—you know how men are, always thinking the world revolves around them when it’s clearly we women who run things—anyway, he sent me here to learn all the ins and outs of consorting, not that I really need to do so because as you well know, I’m destined for greater things than a lowly position like the one you have. Hello again, Gabriel. You are looking especially handsome.’’
The hair on the back of my neck rose at the way she positively purred his name.
‘‘More handsome than half an hour ago, when you told him the same thing?’’ Tipene asked with studied nonchalance as he continued to tap away at his laptop.
Sally ignored him.
‘‘Sally,’’ I said, smiling as pleasantly as I could. ‘‘Do you remember what I told you on the phone?’’
Her seductive little smile at Gabriel faded as she eyed me instead. ‘‘I do, and sugar, we need to have a little talk about that. While I applaud the style of your threat—the gluing hair on backwards part was particularly inventive, and bows made of entrails are always suitable at a torture session—I do have to withdraw a few points for lack of follow-through. Everyone knows a threat is really only intimidating if the threatener has the ability to actually conduct the action upon the threatenee, and you are so clearly not the sort of person who carries a disemboweling knife upon herself . . . oh.’’
Sally made a little expression of unhappiness as I pulled the dagger out of its sheath at my ankle.
‘‘I see I was mistaken,’’ she said, taking a step away from Gabriel.
‘‘Have I mentioned how adorable you are when you’re jealous?’’ the latter asked me, his eyes dancing with laughter.
‘‘It’s a mistake I would urge you to not make again,’’ I told Sally pleasantly. ‘‘Forgive me for being blunt, but it’s been a long twenty-four hours. What exactly would it take to get you to leave?’’
‘‘Well!’’ she said, her nostrils flaring in offense. She slid a glance along to Gabriel. ‘‘You see? This is what I was speaking of. She’s clearly much more suitable as dear Magoth’s consort, not that he has any idea of May’s true character, the poor, misguided fool.’’
I blinked in surprise. While Sally might be an unconventional candidate for demon lord, she had thus far maintained an attitude of respect for Magoth. ‘‘Did you just call Magoth a fool?’’
‘‘Did I? I wouldn’t know; I’m too busy being hurt by your extreme lack of any and all social graces. But it does not take a leviathan to hit me over the head.’’ She lifted her chin and tried for a quelling glare down her nose at me. ‘‘It is clear to me that you do not wish for my company at this time. Naturally, I will not stay where I am not wanted, even though my removal will clearly put you in violation of your role as consort, and thus will mean your imminent demise. But that concerns me not. I will go pack my things and leave as soon as I can.’’
Gabriel stopped her, not that she was trying very hard to leave. ‘‘What do you mean it will mean May’s imminent demise?’’
‘‘And how, exactly, would asking you to leave be violating my consorthood?’’ I asked.
She issued an injured sniff. ‘‘If you had taken the time to read the pertinent section of the Doctrine of Unending Conscious, you’d know that consorts to demon lords are bound to follow the laws set down in the doctrine exactly, and that any violations would leave you in contempt of the very legal and binding contract you agreed to when you became Magoth’s consort.’’
‘‘I’ve read the Doctrine, and I don’t remember seeing anything about contempt,’’ I said slowly, poking through the memories of all the important points of the set of laws that govern Abaddon.
I glanced at Maata. She watched me with close attention, clearly leaving it to me to tell Gabriel of the important happening.
‘‘There’s more,’’ I said. ‘‘Right after whoever-he-is left, Fiat and Bao had a few words.’’
‘‘That doesn’t surprise me,’’ Gabriel said. ‘‘Fiat has always been subject to volatile emotions, and he seems especially unstable now.’’
I took a deep breath. ‘‘More than you imagine. He beheaded Bao.’’
To my complete and utter surprise, he didn’t leap up or exclaim in shock. Instead he nodded. ‘‘I expected something of that sort.’’
‘‘You expected it?’’ I asked. ‘‘Why?’’
‘‘It relates to my news,’’ he said, rising to take my hands in his. ‘‘Two hours before you landed in Paris, Fiat sent a message to the weyr announcing that he had challenged and defeated Bao for control of the red sept.’’
‘‘He did no such thing. He murdered her, pure and simple,’’ I said, outraged. ‘‘There was no challenge language whatsoever—he just snatched a sword from the wall and lopped off her head. Or at least we assume that’s what he did; fortunately, his men covered up the two separate parts of her that they hauled off.’’
‘‘He has clearly overstepped the bounds of weyr laws and must be dealt with immediately.’’ Gabriel looked past me, sightlessly gazing out of the window. ‘‘The problem is—’’
‘‘May! You’re back! Oh, I’m so happy to see you again!’’
Gabriel froze at the bright, sickeningly chirpy voice, followed by the person of Sally.
She hurried into the room, clad in some sort of frilly pink and lavender capri pant set, her face beaming with joy as she stopped in front of me, kissing the air millimeters away from my cheeks.
‘‘Hello, Sally,’’ I said slowly. ‘‘I see you’re still here.’’
‘‘She says she can’t leave,’’ Gabriel said in a voice completely lacking in expression. I assumed it was his way of being polite.
She giggled, shooting him a flirtatious look. ‘‘May, there’s so much we have to talk about! That silly Magoth needed some me time—you know how men are, always thinking the world revolves around them when it’s clearly we women who run things—anyway, he sent me here to learn all the ins and outs of consorting, not that I really need to do so because as you well know, I’m destined for greater things than a lowly position like the one you have. Hello again, Gabriel. You are looking especially handsome.’’
The hair on the back of my neck rose at the way she positively purred his name.
‘‘More handsome than half an hour ago, when you told him the same thing?’’ Tipene asked with studied nonchalance as he continued to tap away at his laptop.
Sally ignored him.
‘‘Sally,’’ I said, smiling as pleasantly as I could. ‘‘Do you remember what I told you on the phone?’’
Her seductive little smile at Gabriel faded as she eyed me instead. ‘‘I do, and sugar, we need to have a little talk about that. While I applaud the style of your threat—the gluing hair on backwards part was particularly inventive, and bows made of entrails are always suitable at a torture session—I do have to withdraw a few points for lack of follow-through. Everyone knows a threat is really only intimidating if the threatener has the ability to actually conduct the action upon the threatenee, and you are so clearly not the sort of person who carries a disemboweling knife upon herself . . . oh.’’
Sally made a little expression of unhappiness as I pulled the dagger out of its sheath at my ankle.
‘‘I see I was mistaken,’’ she said, taking a step away from Gabriel.
‘‘Have I mentioned how adorable you are when you’re jealous?’’ the latter asked me, his eyes dancing with laughter.
‘‘It’s a mistake I would urge you to not make again,’’ I told Sally pleasantly. ‘‘Forgive me for being blunt, but it’s been a long twenty-four hours. What exactly would it take to get you to leave?’’
‘‘Well!’’ she said, her nostrils flaring in offense. She slid a glance along to Gabriel. ‘‘You see? This is what I was speaking of. She’s clearly much more suitable as dear Magoth’s consort, not that he has any idea of May’s true character, the poor, misguided fool.’’
I blinked in surprise. While Sally might be an unconventional candidate for demon lord, she had thus far maintained an attitude of respect for Magoth. ‘‘Did you just call Magoth a fool?’’
‘‘Did I? I wouldn’t know; I’m too busy being hurt by your extreme lack of any and all social graces. But it does not take a leviathan to hit me over the head.’’ She lifted her chin and tried for a quelling glare down her nose at me. ‘‘It is clear to me that you do not wish for my company at this time. Naturally, I will not stay where I am not wanted, even though my removal will clearly put you in violation of your role as consort, and thus will mean your imminent demise. But that concerns me not. I will go pack my things and leave as soon as I can.’’
Gabriel stopped her, not that she was trying very hard to leave. ‘‘What do you mean it will mean May’s imminent demise?’’
‘‘And how, exactly, would asking you to leave be violating my consorthood?’’ I asked.
She issued an injured sniff. ‘‘If you had taken the time to read the pertinent section of the Doctrine of Unending Conscious, you’d know that consorts to demon lords are bound to follow the laws set down in the doctrine exactly, and that any violations would leave you in contempt of the very legal and binding contract you agreed to when you became Magoth’s consort.’’
‘‘I’ve read the Doctrine, and I don’t remember seeing anything about contempt,’’ I said slowly, poking through the memories of all the important points of the set of laws that govern Abaddon.
