Chapter Five
“You could think the arrival of a naked, dirty,
ex-demon lord would merit at least a few raised eyebrows,” Savian
said as I collapsed into a chair. “But no one seems to care.”
“It’s probably more they don’t know what to think
than they don’t care,” I said.
“That or they’re just too horrified at the sight of
a penis curse to take more than a quick peek.” Savian glanced
around the faux-medieval basement bar of the hotel at which we had
taken rooms. At this hour of the day, it was empty of customers, a
few morsels of gray light bullying their way in through thick,
waved glass panes strapped with militant precision in what was no
doubt supposed to be a design reminiscent of the court of Elizabeth
I of England.
“Are you impugning my cock?” Magoth asked, his
hands on his hips.
Savian looked startled for a moment. “I am not
doing anything to your dick, let alone impugning it, although . .
.” His gaze dropped to the member in question. “If the curse fits,
wear it.”
Magoth’s eyes narrowed as he gestured proudly to
his genitals. “This is a magnificent specimen of its kind! It is
beyond magnificent—it is the epitome of cockhood. It can do things
yours can only dream of! It is, in fact, a god amongst
penises!”
“Oh, it wasn’t that good,” Cyrene snorted,
rolling her eyes at Jim.
Jim clearly had many comments to make about that,
but bound to silence, it could only raise its eyebrows and give
Magoth’s penis a long, considering look.
“Magoth, please, keep your voice down,” I
said.
“He,” Magoth spat, pointing at Savian, “disparaged
this most resplendent of cocks. I demand that you as my consort
defend its honor. Change back into dragon form and roast him
alive.” He paused, a thought having occurred to him. “And then you
can wrap your tail around me and—”
“No one is disparaging anything, least of all your
genitals,” I said quickly before he dwelled on the strange ways he
got his jollies. “Calm down and take a seat before someone notices
you.”
He snorted, casting unimpressed glances around him.
“I have to piss. I assume you will not let me hear the end of it if
I do it here. I will take my commanding and august cock to the
bathroom, where it will no longer offend your plebeian
souls.”
I exchanged a look with Cyrene as he marched off to
the men’s room.
“He really does love his penis,” she said as if
that explained things. “And don’t get me wrong, it was fine and
all, but magnificent? A god among penises? No. Maybe a duke, or a
minor prince. But not a god.”
“I really find it difficult to believe we’re
sitting here discussing Magoth’s genitalia,” I said, rubbing the
smooth, cool wooden surface of the table. “It’s just a bit
surreal.”
“Not nearly as surreal as this whole place is,”
Savian said from where he was examining pictures of boats on the
walls. He nodded toward one. “Henley Regatta 1923. Not quite what
you’d expect in Latvia.”
I had to admit that the hotel wasn’t at all what I
expected. The question of why an obscure Latvian hotel in the small
town of Livs would try so hard to re-create a half-timber English
country house complete with wattle and daub was answered by a
red-faced, balding man who bounded into the bar from a back
room.
“ ’ Ello, ’ello, I didn’t realize we had customers
so early. We don’t do lunches here in the pub, just so you know.
Those are done in the tearoom upstairs. All handmade pastries up
there, nothing store-bought. My wife does the baking—she has a fair
hand with pastries, too. You’ll not be finding a better scone west
of the Thames.”
“We’re not hungry, thanks,” I said, leaning back so
he could slap a paper coaster in front of me. “Drinks are
fine.”
“Right, then. You do look a sight. Been out hiking,
have you? We get lots of Americans coming here for the hiking, now
that the Russians aren’t in charge anymore. Sisters, are you?
You’ve the look of each other, that you do. Oh, but where are my
brains today? I’m Ted Havelbury, ye olde host,” he said with a
chuckle. “Now, I know what you’re thinking, I do indeed. You’re
thinking that old Ted is a bit out of his natural setting, and you
wouldn’t be far wrong there, but my wife’s mum was from the old
country, and when she died and left us this inn, we thought, why
not? The children were grown and had families of their own, so off
the missus and I went with nothing but a wish and a prayer, as they
say. But now, you’ll be wanting a few drinkies, won’t . . . er . .
.”
Ted, who had been chatting merrily to Cyrene and
me, nodded to Savian as he slid into the chair next to mine. Before
he could finish his sentence, Magoth, in full snit, emerged from
the bathroom, shoved aside Jim, and stomped over to stand in front
of Savian. He glared down at the thief taker, who shot me a
martyred look before heaving a sigh as he relinquished the
seat.
“Er . . . ,” Ted said again.
“Our friend had a little accident with a stream,” I
said, shaking out a paper napkin and placing it over Magoth’s lap.
“His clothes were too soaked to wear.”
“Is that so?” Ted said slowly, his expression
almost enough to make me laugh. “I don’t suppose he’d like to get
dressed before he has a drink?”
“Tell the slave that I wish a bottle of 1996
Bollinger, chilled to forty-five point nine degrees, with one
glass,” Magoth said in his most demanding voice.
“Slave?” Ted asked.
I leaned forward toward him, speaking in a low,
confident voice I’d found worked well with mortals. “You’ll have to
excuse our friend. He’s foreign.”
Ted eyed the naked, dirty, arrogant Magoth with
doubt. “He is?”
“South American,” I said, mentally apologizing to
everyone on that continent.
“Oh. Latin,” Ted said, nodding. “That explains it.
Impetuous people. Excellent dancers, but impetuous.”
“I’d like a gin and tonic, my twin would like a
bottle of lemon Perrier, if you have it, and Savian would like . .
. ?”
“Brandy.”
“Hmm, 1996 Bollinger’s. I’ll have to check the
storeroom for that. I think we have some left over from the New
Year’s celebration. . . .” Ted took our orders with only one
backwards look at Magoth before hurrying to the back room.
“You’d better pray no one else comes in here while
you’re having your champagne,” I told him. “Because as soon as
you’re done, you’re putting some clothes on. Jim, stop wiping your
nose on my hand. You can have some of Cy’s Perrier, since she gets
drunk if she drinks a whole bottle.”
“I do not get drunk! I never get drunk!” Cyrene
said, outraged at the slur against her character.
“May eighteenth, 1921. Long Island, New York,”
Magoth said, arching an eyebrow at her. “My house. Specifically,
the garden. You, me, and three hundred of my closest
friends.”
Cyrene flushed and looked away. “That wasn’t drunk.
That was enthralled.”
“It was an orgy,” corrected Magoth. He thought for
a moment, a smile erasing his pout. “A lovely, lovely orgy. Which
resulted in the creation of the ever-adorable May, if I am not
mistaken, and I never am about such things. Do you remember, sweet
one? Do you remember being called into existence, and the exact
moment when your life began, and your eyes first landed upon
me?”
“Yes, I remember. I screamed.”
“Music to my ears,” he sighed dreamily. “I don’t
suppose—”
“No,” I said hastily, and would have continued, but
the sound of footsteps clattering down the bare wooden staircase to
the basement arrested me.
A man paused at the bottom of the stairs, glancing
quickly about the room, clearly about to turn around and go back
upstairs. He caught sight of us, however, blinked twice, then
turned and bellowed up the stairs, “Found her!”
“That doesn’t sound good,” I murmured as I watched
a second man join the first. The pair of them walked toward us with
unmistakable purpose—and scent.
“Demons,” Cyrene said, wrinkling her nose as the
smell of demon smoke hit us.
“Wrath, by the looks of them,” Savian said,
squinting at them.
Wrath demons, as anyone who’s ever been to Abaddon
knew, were not the sort of beings you welcomed into your company.
They were like mini demon lords, with substantial powers, and
minions of their own.
“What do they want?” Cy asked.
“No doubt that cur Bael has realized what a mistake
he made in expulsing me, and is summoning me back to restore upon
me the rightful estates and titles which your twin’s carelessness
so callously cost me,” Magoth said, watching the two men approach
with an anticipatory glint in his eye.
“May didn’t do anything to get you kicked out of
Abaddon,” Cyrene said, much to my astonishment. Normally oblivious
to slurs made against me, now and again she surprised me by jumping
to my defense. “That was your own doing, and you know it.”
“His Most Heinous and Imperious Majesty, the
premiere prince Bael, has not sent us to deal with a
has-been like you, Magoth,” the nearest demon said, a sneer curling
its lips. It stopped a few feet away from me and jerked its head in
what I realized was acknowledgment of me.
“You will address me as Lord Magoth, you sniveling
little scum,” Magoth snapped, his words so chilling and filled with
menace that Jim immediately backed up a few feet. I rubbed my arm
nearest Magoth. Emotional outbursts caused him to leech the warmth
from his environment, leaving me with the sensation of having
brushed up against an iceberg. “And you will speak only when I give
you permission to do so.”
My eyebrows went up at his imperious tone. I’d
heard him use it before, but only on his own minions, never another
demon lord’s followers, and certainly not the first-in-commands of
the head honcho of all Abaddon.
The demons gave Magoth a scathing look and turned
to me. “The Lord Bael desires your presence, dragon.”
I bit back the retort that I wasn’t, in fact, a
dragon. “What?” Magoth shrieked, leaping to his feet. “He wants to
see my consort? About what?”
The demon nearest him raised its eyebrows as it
studied Magoth’s penis tattoo. The other one ignored the irate
demon lord, its cold, flat eyes fixed on me.
“Why would Bael want to see me?” I asked it, since
it obviously wasn’t going to answer Magoth.
“I will ask the questions around here, slave,”
Magoth snarled, marching over to stand in between the wrath demon
and me. He got right in the demon’s face, shouting, “Answer me, you
watery scum on the underbelly of a toad.”
“I do not seek to question my lord’s commands,” the
demon said, treating Magoth as if he were invisible. “I simply
carry them out. He has commanded your presence, and we have been
through three countries to find you. You hide your trail well,
dragon. You will come with us now.”
“Argh!” Magoth screamed, his hands waving wildly.
“I will not be treated this way!”
I considered the two wrath demons, wondering how
long Gabriel and Kostya would be getting the shard. “And if I
choose not to?”
The penis-watching demon shrugged. “You will come
with us. The Lord Bael commands.”
“The Lord Bael commands, the Lord Bael commands,”
Magoth parroted in a snide voice. “Well, the Lord Magoth commands,
too!”
“The difference being, of course, that you’re no
longer a reigning prince,” Savian said.
Magoth spun around and sent him a look of pure
poison. Savian flinched.
I had a feeling that if I didn’t give in to Bael’s
demands, there would be trouble for everyone.
“All right,” I said slowly as I got to my feet. I
slid Cyrene a meaningful look. “Please tell Gabriel what’s
happened, and where I am. I will try to return as quickly as
possible.”
Cyrene’s face looked pinched as she glanced between
the demons and a now nearly hysterical Magoth, who was ranting
about the good old days. “Are you sure you’re going to be all
right?” she asked in a whisper.
“I should be. Even Bael thinks twice about tangling
with a wyvern’s mate,” I said with a lot more confidence than I
felt. “Jim, you may come with me, although I want you to mind your
tongue in Bael’s presence.”
Released from the command to be silent, Jim
staggered a little with the strain of holding in its comments. It
cocked an eyebrow at the wrath demons. “Hiyas. Long time no see,
Sori. How they hangin’, Tachan? Been forever since I’ve seen you
guys. You still got a thing for rams?”
The penis watcher shot Jim an outraged look that
nearly set the demon’s coat smoking.
The sound of a man’s singing grew louder as the
bar-keep evidently found Magoth’s champagne.
“You guys stay here. I’ll take care of whatever
Bael wants and be back as quickly as I can. Don’t forget to tell
Gabriel I went willingly,” I said hurriedly, one eye watching the
storeroom door. “He doesn’t need to come rescue me.”
“That you know,” Savian said, just adding that
little extra dollop of worry that I needed to make my misery
complete.
The demon named Sori grabbed my arm in preparation
for yanking me through the fabric of being to Bael’s presence, but
before it could do more than slash an opening, Magoth screamed a
battle cry and threw himself on me. Jim leaped up at the same time,
intent on intercepting the attack, but was too late. Magoth hit me,
sending me careening into Sori as it was pulling me through the
opening, with the end result that all four of us went down in a
tangle of arms, legs, and furry black tail.
“I assure you that such a dramatic entrance is not
necessary,” a cool, almost bored voice said as I tried to pull my
limbs from the pile of others. Jim clunked its head on mine, making
me see stars for a second.
I sat up, rubbing it, glaring at Jim for a second
before Magoth used my head as a support to lever himself to his
feet. “Well! You might have had your servants show a little more
respect,” he said, making a great show of brushing his naked self
off. He made a brief bow to Bael. “Lord Bael.”
Unlike Magoth, whose appearance never changed from
his original, once-mortal form, Bael changed his at a whim. Today
he was tall and thin, with a long Ben Affleck-type face, complete
with stubble, and world-weary eyes. Those eyes turned on Magoth
with extreme unction.
“Why did you bring him?” he snarled at his
two wrath demons.
Both men bowed low, in a way that implied they were
groveling without their actually doing so. “It was an accident,
Your Greatness. He flung himself on the dragon as we were escorting
her through.”
“I did not fling myself on May. I have never flung
myself on anyone in my life. I am a demon lord—if there is any
flinging to be done, it will be of minions!” Magoth snapped.
Bael rolled his eyes for a moment before dismissing
the demons, turning his attention to me. His gaze landed on Jim. He
frowned. “Have not I seen you before, demon?”
I swear Jim curtsied. “That you have, your most
infernal of all infernal beings. I’m Jim. Effrijim, really, but you
being stuck with your alternate names of Beelze bub and Baalzuvuv
know how it is—short and punchy is definitely the key to
success.”
Bael continued to frown, obviously not remembering
who Jim was.
“I was here a few months ago with May. We kicked
some wrathy ass, not that you probably want to hear that, but you
know, if one sixth-class demon and a doppelganger can do that, you
might want to up your standards a smidgen,” it said with a helpful
air.
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!”
A giggling pink-frilled whirlwind, that is. One
named Sally, who appeared to be accompanied by two nearly naked
bodybuilders.
She stopped next to me, air-kissing the spaces
about four inches from either side of my face. “You look simply
scrumptious in that black leather waist cincher. It’s amazing what
that can do for your figure, isn’t it? Magoth, my dear boy, is that
your curse, or are you just happy to see me?” Having dealt with the
niceties, Sally squealed her way over to Magoth and stroked a hand
down his bare chest. “Still so yummy, even though a bath would
probably be the best thing right now. Is that mouse droppings in
your hair? Oooh. Kinky.”
Magoth simpered at her. I kept my eye rolling to
merely a desire, and greeted her politely. “Hello, Sally. I
wondered what happened to you, since we haven’t seen you in a few
months. It looks like you’ve taken up coaching Chippendales
dancers.”
The nearest wrath demon flexed its zebra-striped
thong at me.
“You mean Vincenzo and Gunter? Aren’t they the most
scrumptious things you’ve ever seen?” Sally blew them a kiss.
“Er . . . they’re definitely something,” I said,
avoiding eye contact with them.
“Sugar, jealousy just doesn’t look good on you.
I’ll send them away, since you know how much I value our
friendship. Well, that and they’re naughty little boys who don’t
like it when Mumsy pays attention to other men.” She kissed
Magoth’s ear and made an elaborate gesture in the air. The two
nearly naked demons disappeared.
“I wonder how I’d look in a thong,” Jim said
thoughtfully, squinting at the spot in which the two demons had
been standing.
“Ridiculous,”I told it before turning to Sally.“You
look hale and hearty. I take it you’re still apprenticing?”
“Gracious, no!” She looked crestfallen for a
moment. “You didn’t get the invitation for the ceremony? Hell-fire!
I knew I should have gone with Crane and Co. to do my announcements
rather than having one of the minions handcraft paper from Yankee
money. I’m sorry about that, May. It was a beautiful ceremony,
truly moving when Bael sacrificed an entire legion to mark the
occasion of my ascension to the throne. You would have loved
it.”
Somehow, I doubted that. Still, my eyes widened at
the thought of Sally ruling Abaddon. “You took the throne?”
“You little backstabber,” Magoth told her fondly,
using the arm he had around her waist to give her a squeeze. “You
used my banishment to forward your own cause. What a superbly
self-serving thing to do.”
She bit his chin. “I knew you’d approve.”
“So long as it wasn’t my seat, yes.”
“To answer your question, May, I took over the seat
left vacant by that demon lord who is now all dragonny,” she said,
giggling a little as Magoth goosed her. “You know her, don’t you?
I’d appreciate it if you could give her a piece of my mind. She’s
absolutely ruined all of my minions. You wouldn’t believe the lax
attitudes they have, not to mention a flat-out refusal to do
anything truly evil. I mean, seriously, what’s the use of having
minions if they won’t go forth and spread debauchery, depravity,
and suffering in your name?”
“Shocking,” Magoth murmured, both hands on her butt
now.
I said simply, “What a disappointment that must be
to you. I will be sure to pass along your complaint to
Aisling.”
“I’m sure she’ll be heartbroken,” Jim said,
snickering just a little.
Sally, who had been whispering and giggling to
Magoth, suddenly froze, her head snapping around to pierce Jim with
a look that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.
“Who dares to speak to me without permission? What is your name,
demon?”
“This is Jim,” I said quickly as Jim backed up
until it was pressed against my legs. “It’s Aisling’s demon,
actually, although it’s out on loan to me.”
“It is impertinent,” Sally said, and with a
negligent hand drew a symbol in the air.
“Hey, all I said—” Jim disappeared, just flat-out
disappeared.
Fury roared to life within me. “What did you do?” I
almost yelled, stomping forward toward her.
She had the gall to look surprised. “Why, banished
it to the Akasha, of course. I know you’re not a demon lord, May,
but really, your time here in Abaddon should have taught you that
the only way to maintain control is to never allow impertinence in
minions. It can only lead to worse things, like insubordination and
outright mutiny.”
“She’s right,” Magoth said, nodding. “I prefer
torture, myself, since it entertains and is a good demonstration
for other demons, but the idea is sound.”
“Bring it back,” I said, my voice a low growl that
I didn’t recognize.
“Don’t be silly—it’s just a sixth-class demon,”
Sally said, dismissing my concern to turn her head and nuzzle
Magoth’s filthy neck. She plucked a fern from behind his ear and
proceeded to tickle his penis with it.
I slid a glance toward Bael. He was leaning back in
his chair, watching me with an anticipatory light in his
eyes.
“Bring. It. Back,” I said again, my body elongating
and shifting into that of a silver-covered dragon. I drew back my
lips, sending fire through my clenched teeth.
Sally’s eyes widened as I took a step toward her,
sending fire to the very tips of her sparkly pink plastic shoes.
“May! This is how you thank me?”
Magoth shoved Sally aside, his arms held wide as he
welcomed me. “May! My own sweet, scaly May! You want to play? Right
here? Right now? In front of Bael? I question your sense of timing,
and yet, I am strangely excited by the thought. Let’s go for it.
Give me a piece of that sweet tail!”
The air cracked. A large whump followed as
Magoth hit the far wall of the room, sliding down the wood paneling
with a squeak of flesh against highly polished wood.
Sally watched him for a moment before turning back
to me, her eyes thoughtful, her lips pursed. “I see.”
“Do you?” I walked toward her, slowly, little
compression tremors shaking the ground as I did so. “Do you,
really?”
“Perhaps I was a little hasty in banishing your
servant,” she said quickly, backing up a couple of steps. “I don’t
want there to be bad feelings between us, sugar. What if I bring
the demon back? Would that make you happy again?”
I let a slow smile curve my lips before I forced
the dragon shard back into obedience, my body changing back to its
normal shape. “That would make me very happy, indeed.”
She spoke a few words, and gave me a very toothy
smile when Jim reappeared, its eyes rather wild. She even went so
far as to pat it a couple of times on the head before turning her
perky smile on Bael. “I’m sorry, Lord Bael. I forgot you said . . .
I forgot.”
Bael gave her a long look before turning his head
to consider the puddle of Magoth on the floor next to the wall. “He
smudged my wall.”
“He had a little accident in the woods and got a
bit dirty,” I explained.
Bael laced his fingers together and looked back to
me. “It would appear he is also unconscious.”
“He would have just kept pestering me until I
knocked him out, so I figured I’d save everyone the trouble of
listening to him rant and rave. Which, I assume, he’d do, since I
suspect you have something to tell me he isn’t going to
like.”
“Very astute, dragon,” Bael said.
“Oh, goody, I haven’t missed it,” Sally said,
beaming at me. “You’re going to love this, May. Just love it. It’s
so—oh my gosh, so wonderful! I couldn’t believe it when Lord Bael
told me about it. ‘May is just going to flip when she hears about
this,’ I told him, and so you are.”
“Sally,” Bael said, with a weary gesture.
“Oh. Sorry. Lips are zipped,” she said, making a
zipping action across her mouth. “Go right ahead and make May’s
day.”
Bael leaned back in his chair, seemingly unaware of
the wariness in my eyes, saying comfortably, “As I was saying
before we were interrupted, there are rules that I must adhere
to.”
“I am tolerably familiar with the Doctrine of
Unending Conscious,” I said, mentally going over the set of rules
that governed Abaddon for anything appropriate to the situation.
Sally’s reassurance of loving the surprise that Bael had for me
confirmed my initial impression that I was about to be sent
screaming in horror from the room.
“As your employer so abrasively stated, we must
grant him his due now that the expulsion has been appealed, and the
appeal denied. Therefore, I am doing just that,” Bael said,
flicking his fingers toward me.
I took a deep breath, holding tight to my anger and
the need for the shard to dominate me. “Might I point out that
Magoth running amok in the mortal world will have repercussions on
Abaddon? You come and go into my world as frequently as you
please—do you think you will be able to continue doing so once he
rules it? Surely you must realize that he will hold a grudge, and
will do everything possible to deny you access to the mortal
world.”
“No one can stop me from doing what I wish,” he
said with deceptive mildness. “That said, I have no intention of
allowing Magoth to rule any world, let alone one in which I
have an interest.”
I frowned, confused, sliding Jim a glance. Its eyes
looked like they were going to bug out of its head. I wanted badly
to ask it what it saw that I didn’t, but refrained. Bael would view
such an act as a sign of weakness, and above all, I wanted him to
continue thinking I was a badass dragon with whom it would be a
very bad idea to tangle. “So you won’t be giving him his powers
back?”
“No.”
“But the Doctrine . . . ?”
Sally giggled again. “This is so fabulous, May. I
can’t believe you haven’t guessed!”
“Guess what?” I asked, but the second the words
left my lips, a horrible idea came over me. I turned to Bael with
what must have been an appalled look on my face. “You don’t mean .
. . you can’t . . . it’s not possible, is it?”
“You are Magoth’s consort,” he answered with a
little shrug. “As far as the Doctrine is concerned, you and he are
of the same body. Therefore, it is to you his powers have been
granted. I wish you joy of them, dragon.”