Worlds Without End (21 page)

* * *

“Why won’t you tell me?” Ehran asked for perhaps the thirtieth time.

I wiped my mouth with the napkin and dropped it onto my empty plate with the remains of the lavish breakfast we’d ordered. Caimbeul had loaded a plate with food, then disappeared into his bedroom. Pouring myself another cup of coffee—the real stuff, not that awful soykaf—I got up and went to one of the large armchairs and plopped down on it.

“First, because you and Aithne are long-time friends. I suspect anything you hear from me goes straight back to him. Second, you’re also close to Alachia. Oh, don’t give me the surprised look. I know she’s been a member of the Council since the beginning. You were smart to try to keep that secret, though. There are still a few of us who remember the old days.

“I would hate to think what might happen should Alachia’s influence become more ... assertive. I believe things might get very difficult indeed. Just remember, Lofwyr is keeping an eye on things.”

Ehran didn’t say anything, but leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. I got up and went to open the terrace doors. Nasty habit, that. I’d taken it up briefly and put it aside as quickly. The Indians had the right idea about tobacco. It wasn’t a thing to be taken casually. They understood that. Unfortunately, the Europeans didn’t.

“I might think that there was a threat in what you’re saying.” said Ehran.

“No.” I said softly. “I don’t threaten. You know better than that. I’m just letting you know my position.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bad idea to alienate me right before the meeting of the Council?” He blew little smoke rings and watched them float away from him.

“I know you’re willing to hear the truth. And that you might be willing to overlook my unfortunate choice in companions.”

Ehran smiled at me. “I’ve always liked you, despite your strange politics.”

“That and Aithne.”

“Yes.” he said. “We’ve all made enemies of one another over the years. It comes from time and contact. Such a terrible thing—to be bound together over such a span. Do you sometimes grow weary?”

“Oh, yes.” I said. I rose from my chair and went to the terrace doors to close them. Now that Ehran had finished with his cigarette, I found the chill air more than I could bear. It seeped into my bones today. I tried to blame it on the humidity, the gray sky,
the wind.

“Sometimes.” he said softly, “I wonder if we ail don’t go a little mad from it. In our own ways, of course.”

“How so?”

“Harlequin’s and my ongoing quarrel. Alachia’s actions in Blood Wood. Your own rejection of your people for the Great Worms. Are not all of these insanity?”

“It all depends on where you’re looking from.” I replied.

He pushed himself away from the table. “I won’t say anything to anyone about your being here.” he said. “You may count on my discretion. By the way, whatever happened to young Oakforest? Glasgian, you remember? He was seen coming up here, then he never came out. Where is he?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said. “Maybe your spies got it wrong.”

“I doubt it. They’re quite good at this sort of thing.”

“Well, he’s not here.”

“Then you won’t mind if I take a look—”

“Yes, I would.” I said quickly. “You’re treading a fine line here, Ehran. Even if he were here, which he’s not, it wouldn’t be any of your business. Let’s leave it at that. Shall we?”

He gave another faint smile. “Very well, Aina.” he said. “But this is a dangerous game you’re playing.”

I walked to the door and opened it. “I know, but
when has it ever not been?”

* * *

As soon as the door shut, Caimbeul opened the door to his room and peered out.

“I thought he’d never leave.” he said.

“I can’t believe you left me here to deal with him.” I said. “And he knows about Glasgian.”

“Yes, I heard that.”

“Well, we’ve got to get him out of here.” I said. “I just don’t know if he’s up to anything but the conventional means.”

“We may have no other choice.”

I nodded, then turned and walked over to my bedroom door and opened it. The room was still dark, the shades pulled. A wedge of light from the living room spilled across the bed, which was empty. I hit the switch on the wall, flooding the room with electric light.

The room was empty. Glasgian Oakforest was gone.

24

“He’s gone.” I said.

“What?”

“He’s gone.”

Caimbeul elbowed past me into the room. “Maybe the bathroom?” he asked.

I pointed to the open bathroom door. “Unless he’s thinner than I remember. Or he’s hiding in the shower stall.”

Caimbeul went and checked in the stall. “No, not here.”

I sagged against the dresser facing the bed. “This is very bad.” I said. “What if he goes to Aithne? We’re lost then.”

“I don’t think he’ll do that.” Caimbeul said. He touched the bed where Glasgian had lain. “It’s cold. He’s probably been gone for a while. I suspect he didn’t leave by the usual methods, because otherwise Ehran wouldn’t have asked about him.”

“Maybe Ehran took him.” I said.

Caimbeul shook his head. “Not his style. Now, I’d expect it from Alachia, except she’d be here now crowing about it. And I don’t think her network is as sophisticated as Ehran’s. What surprises me is that we haven’t heard from Aithne yet.”

“Dumb luck.” I said. “What are we going to do?”

“Nothing.” he replied. “For right now. Whoever has him will show their hand eventually, and if he got out of here himself, then I doubt we’ll hear anything. He’ll be too damn scared. After all, he’s had a look at what happens to people who get on the wrong side of your faithful companion.”

“Don’t call him that.” I snapped. “I haven’t seen him in millennia. I took care of him long ago. You know that. I’m tired of paying for that mistake. It won’t just be me facing him this time. I’ll have the support of the others.”

Caimbeul shrugged. “Perhaps.” he said. “There’s no telling what they’ll do.”

I ran a hand across my scalp. “They’ve got to see what’s happening. After you tell them about Maui, they’ll understand. But what has me worried is how anyone got past those wards.”

Caimbeul didn’t say anything.

* * *

The rest of the day dragged on interminably. After the way the morning went, I kept expecting more unwelcome visitors. But they never arrived.

The maids came and tidied the rooms, and I wondered which one of them was Ehran’s spy. Or maybe all of them were.

I jumped at every noise, and Caimbeul’s annoying habits became more and more glaring. Pencil-tapping. Humming. Leg-jiggling. He twitched and fidgeted and moved around like a six-year-old needing to pee.

I wondered why I’d ever had anything to do with him.

* * *

The day of the Council meeting dawned clear and cold. The drizzle and gray skies that had continued for the last two days broke. It irked me that the session had been set up for late afternoon. I had to waste yet another day with the tension, boredom, and Caimbeul’s habits.

At four we began to get ready, and by five we were in the rented limo heading for the meeting. It was already beginning to grow dark as we finally reached the estate where the meeting was to take place.

It was located west of the city. As the car swung into the wide gates flanking the drive, I saw that there were hundreds of rose bushes lining the drive. They were denuded of foliage. Their thorny canes stark and skeletal against the fading October sky.

Several other limos were parked in front of the large house as we pulled up. There were also a couple of high-octane performance cars modified with body armor.

“Looks like the joint’s jumpin’.” said Harlequin. “Nice cars. I wonder who they belong to.”

“Jinkies, Caimbeul, maybe you and the boys can go drag racing after the sock hop.” I said.

“You don’t have to get snippy about it.” he said.

“You’re a gadabout.” I said. “Utterly irresponsible. Can’t you keep your mind on the matter at hand?”

“Why should I?” he asked. “When you’re perfectly capable of doing all the worrying for both of us.”

“Jerk.”

“Shrew.”

“Shmuck.”

“Harpy.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

“Well, shall we go and meet the crowd?” Caimbeul asked. “I understand they’ve finished with the pagans and are moving on to the Christians.”

“I think they’ll find us stringy and unpalatable.”

“One can only hope.”

* * *

We were met at the door by a retinue of Surehand’s Paladins. They were attired in their Crusader-ish armor and toting SMGs, pistols, and other sidearms and pieces of gear I knew nothing of. Such blind reliance on technology could get these boys in a lot of trouble, I thought.

We were escorted into the massive foyer and down a wide hallway leading to the back of the house. More like a palace. Fifteen-foot ceilings, twelve-foot-wide hallways, heavy, cream-colored damask wallpaper, marble tile underfoot. The Paladins’ boots made loud echoes against the floor. Doorways leading off the halls showed enormous rooms decorated in luxurious fabrics, woods, and stone.

I wondered whose property this was. It dwarfed Lugh Surehand’s place in size and richness. I couldn’t imagine Aithne here. Nor Ehran. It hardly seemed their style. Our invitation to the Council had mentioned only the time and location: six p.m. at Ozymandias. Caimbeul seemed to know where to go.

At last we came to a set of doors at the end of the hallway. The lead Paladin opened the doors and announced us.

“Aina Sluage and Caimbeul har lea Quinn.” he said.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Caimbeul was close behind.

Had I been Harlequin, I would have delighted at the expressions passing over those faces, but I was too nervous. I knew they wouldn’t guess how I felt. None of them knew me well enough to see that.

“Courage.” I heard Caimbeul whisper in my ear.

Fires burned in the hearths at either end of the hall. Oriental rugs were scattered over the inlaid wood floor. Oversized chairs and couches were arranged in comfortable groupings. That is, comfortable if you’re expecting a hundred or so of your closest personal friends.

At one end of the hall were a handful of the Council members. Lofwyr had changed from his black suit into a lurid peacock-blue satin that would have done a pimp proud. He smiled and bowed slightly at me. I knew he'd probably remain neutral, no matter what happened. Sometimes you just couldn’t depend on dragons.

Ehran was ensconced on one of the couches. He wore his usual black, a habit that I found a trifle annoying. As though wearing black made you somehow more imposing, or cool, or serious. Though it did contrast nicely with his white hair and cold blue eyes. We made eye contact, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It was as though our meeting the other day had never taken place.

Sean Laverty was perched on the arm of one of the chairs. Unlike the other men, he was cleanshaven. His eyes were clear leaf-green, his hair auburn. I knew he was against the technological leanings of the Tir. Of the group, his garb was the simplest. A T-shirt and jeans with a jacket thrown on top. In one earlobe he wore a dangling silver dragon. I wondered what Lofwyr made of that.

Sitting in the chair was Jenna Ni-Fairra. She was whispering something to Laverty as I approached the group.

“Sean, Jenna.” I said.

“Aina.” they replied in unison. I wondered for a moment if they were joined at the hip.

“Did anyone miss me?” came a voice behind me. An all too familiar voice. I turned. Alachia. She glided over to Jenna and kissed her cheek. They were remarkably alike. Except for the coloring, they could have been twins. Where Alachia’s hair was deep red, Jenna’s was platinum blond. Alachia’s eyes were clear sapphire blue; Jenna’s emerald green. But the face was the same. Delicate and fey. Unearthly beauty. What a bore.

“Why must you wear these things?” asked Alachia, grabbing Jenna’s black leather jacket and giving it a shake. “Upstairs I know you have a closet full of . .

Jenna gave her a hard look, and Alachia laughed it off. “A mother’s prerogative.” she said lightly. She glanced around the room. “Well, it looks as if we’re almost all here.”

Just then there was the sound of raised voices coming down the hall. We all turned. In a moment, the doors flew open. Aithne burst in with the Paladin guard hot on his heels. They tried to slow him down, but he thrust one hand up behind him and they flew back into the hall.

“What the hell were you thinking of with those damn roses?” said Aithne. “Alachia, if this is your sick idea of a jok—”

Then he saw me.

His face had been flushed. Now it went white.

“What the frag is she doing here?” he asked. His voice was cold. Utterly devoid of emotion.

“Isn’t it the nicest surprise?” said Alachia, coming up next to him and tucking her arm in his. “Aina asked Lugh to call a meeting of the Council. And he agreed.” She leaned against Aithne and beamed at me.