Wicked Bronze Ambition

93

I was thinking that most of what we had others doing had become redundant when, serendipitous, there came a discreet knock. Sourly, still not having fled to Dean’s realm, Penny went to the door. I produced a head knocker, in case, while Singe conjured a kendo sword out of nothingness. Those things are supposed to be for play and practice, but you don’t want to be on the downhill end without protective gear. As the Block and Relway vision takes hold, more and more people carry them for self-defense.

Even rat people get away with that. It will be interesting to see the legal weaseling after some offended rat man applies one to a particularly obnoxious human bully.

I wondered where Singe got her martial toys and when she found time to learn how to use them.

Ever the wonder child, that girl.

Penny announced, “It’s an old lady.”

“Old lady?” What now? Other than Shadowslinger, all the old ladies in this mess were already on hand.

Then Penny said, “And here comes somebody else. It’s one of those weird guys from your other place.”

“Let me see.”

She was right. There was a woman out there. Old, I’m not sure she would accept. Maybe just starting to sneak down the back slope of forty. Definitely not as elderly as Penny’s tone implied. But, then, the girl was just getting some traction on her teens. Everybody was old to her.

The woman turned, said something to Dex. He replied. I couldn’t hear what. It was obvious, though, that Dex was agitated. He was wet and unhappy about that, too. I said, “Stand by, folks. I’m letting them in.”

The would-be visitors were facing the door when I opened it, Dex behind the woman. She was maybe five feet two, down there around mom size. Anxious Dex barely kept from running her over when she awaited an invitation to step forward. I had a passing thought about malicious sprites and vampires.

Dex glanced behind him and growled. He was not fond of weather.

“Do come in,” said I, pretending I was the butler. Back by the kitchen door the man who actually butled occasionally, who had stepped out to check on the fresh commotion and maybe to see what was keeping Penny, began shaking his head. He returned to the kitchen to start another gallon of tea.

The woman was in no rush. Dex, however, was. I gestured. “Penny, please take the lady into the office and make her comfortable while l try to save Dex from a galloping case of the panics.”

Penny bobbed her head to the woman and gestured toward the office door. “Ma’am.”

Dex protested, “I don’t have a galloping case of anything.”

Muted sounds of dismay came from inside the office, Mariska and Tara Chayne distressed. I was right when I guessed the newcomer to be Orchidia Hedley-Farfoul.

There was some thumping from the sickroom at the same time. Winger cursed at Saucerhead.

“Then why are you in such a big rush that you had to be pushy-rude to the Black Orchid?”

Dex started to contradict his employer but realized that he would do so in an employment-unfriendly economy-and, more importantly, the name I’d dropped hit bottom and clattered around in the tin bowl of his mind.

Elsewhere, Saucerhead cursed Winger back. They sounded like a couple of ten-year-olds. I couldn’t make out what the fuss was about.

Dex’s mouth worked like that of a bass out of water. “I got it. Deep breaths. Dex Man calming down.” Apropos of nothing, apparently, he added, “The wind snatched my umbrella when I was on my way over here.”

“It has been a bit gusty,” I conceded. “Are you calm enough to explain? Because I do have that other guest to attend to.” I was still standing there with the door cracked half a foot, letting cold air in while trying to make out what a couple bearing a striking resemblance to Preston Womble and Elona Muriat were doing.

Singe’s office had gone as silent as a grave-till Penny yelled, “Will you shut that godsdamn door? We’re freezing in here.”

Dean came out of the kitchen with his cart. Teacups, our biggest pot, cookies, and a platter of little sandwiches graced its top. He awarded Hagekagome and the mutts a fine scowl. They got out of his way with a maneuver so deft it looked rehearsed. The girl asked Dean if he wanted her to help. Dean allowed as how that was thoughtful of her and yes, he certainly could use some assistance.

That was Dean Creech being gentle, empathetic Dean, including the challenged kid, making her part of something bigger than the canine tribe.

“Dex?” Dex had witnessed and understood. Dex beamed at Dean.

Dex would have spent much of his life being excluded.