Shadowkill

1

Miralys stormed into the room, threw the flake on a table that appeared at her side, politely provided by the naked man lolling in the bubble hanging under the dome.

Digby stretched out on his stomach among flurries of bright cushions, propped his chin on his palms, and contemplated the Dyslaerin. “That’s a major snit, Miralee, meluv.”

“Read that!” She slapped the table hard enough to make the flake bounce.

As a concession to public form, Digby closed his eyes a moment and pretended to scan what he already knew, then opened them wide. “So? Isn’t it about what we expected? Except, perhaps, their rather excessive optimism as to the sum they’re prepared to accept.”

Miralys snorted, looked round for a place to sit. “I’m in no mood for your games, Digby.”

“All right.” His exaggerated sigh blew like a gale through the veils undulating about the room. “A good host honors his guest’s grouches, even when said guest is self-invited.”

Miralys gave the chair that appeared a hefty nudge with her thigh, then sat, lowering herself with undiminished wariness. “Better adjust your acid levels, Dig, you’re beginning to sound bitchy. What do I do? That lot threw in so many cutouts, it’d take a century to trace them back.”

He acquired clothing and sat up. “I assume you don’t intend to pay the ransom.”

“No. Only to eat the bastards raw.” She curled her lips up and back, baring her tearing teeth in the Dyslaera threat-grin.

“Would you be willing to stall for a while, go through the motions of getting the cash together?”

“Why?”

“Late last night I got a call from Autumn Rose. No no, she doesn’t know where your Ciocan is, but she’s got her hands on someone who may.”

“I thought she was…”

“No, Kikun got them both clear. Seems they overlooked him.”

She scowled at him. “How long have you know this?”

“A while.”

“And you didn’t bother telling me.”

“No.”

Her ears flattened against her skull, she started to get up, then, with visible effort she controlled her anger and resettled herself in the chair. “Why?”

“Kikun identified the enemy. Omphalos.”

“And?”

“Omphalos has ties in places even I can’t reach. Until this moment no one here knew but me.”

“I see. And?”

“One. Don’t talk about this. Two. Rose is bringing a package for me; when it’s unraveled, I should know a lot more. A good possibility, I should have the location of Rohant and the others. Travel time’s around four weeks, so you’ll need to stall. Five million Helvetian gelders, could you raise that if you wanted to?”

“Not from Voallts Korlach. If I went to the Family…” She extruded her claws, sheathed them. “We don’t pay ransom.” Her ears flattened against her head, she brought her claws out again, sank them into the simul-sides of the chair. “If I were serious about this, I’d have to take the Korlach public, bring outsiders in. No!”

“Tss, Mira-lili, you could start negotiations. Make it look right, but they don’t have to go anywhere. Send off your reply, say you’re going to need time, then start looking for buyers.”

“Don’t have to look.”

“What?” Digby snapped his eyes wide. “Someone has approached you. I hadn’t heard…”

Her ears came up, twitched. “I am shocked, Digby all-knowing. Sssah!”

“Don’t tease, Miree me-luv.” He brooded a moment, then smiled. “Omphalos. It has to be.”

“I couldn’t say. The approach was through brokers, Vidloeg Gavinda of Helvetia.”

“Hmm. Using Rohant as a lever into Voallts Korlach. Right. That gives the answer to how you’re going to stall. Start talking with Vidloeg Gavinda.”

Miralys’ ears flattened again, her lips curled back, baring her tearing teeth. She hissed with rage.

“Restrain your instincts, Toerfeles. Go home and get ready to ride and make sure none of your people so much as sneezes beyond your compound walls. You don’t want outsiders noticing, hmm?”

She stared at him, gold eyes blind with fury, then she bounded to her feet, scooped up the flake, and stalked out.

Digby clicked tongue against teeth, then faded from the bubble, sinking into the circuits of his kephalos as he began to ready his House for the Peeling of the Chom.

Shadow Running