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"That's easy enough," my delicate, porcelain sister said, and promptly backhanded the floraed with a blow strong enough to knock her out. "There. Problem solved. Dump her in the parlor for a few minutes while we talk if you're still worried about her presence."
Delilah raised one eyebrow, handing Maggie to Chase, but she said nothing as she and Morio carried the limp figure of the floraed into the other room. I followed, wishing we had somebody to stand guard, but since we didn't, I closed the curtains and left the door cracked.
As we headed back to the living room, Delilah pulled me aside. "Menolly's sure high-strung today. What happened?"
"She killed the Psycho Babbler when he was attacking me. Maybe drinking demon blood agitates the temper?"
As we settled down in the living room, I thought about it. What would drinking the blood of a demon do to a vampire, other than give her an upset stomach? Menolly fed on the miscreants of society. Did their blood affect her in negative ways? It was something I'd never before considered, and I made a note to ask later when we were done with this whole fiasco.
Morio and I ran through what had happened at Tom's cabin, introducing him gently to Menolly. She gave him a quiet nod, as Iris scurried over to his side.
"Would you like some tea?" she asked him, ever the nurturer.
He gave her a faint smile and nodded. "Thank you. I'd like that."
"Iris, first tell us what happened, then you can make tea for all of us if you would." I winked at her, and she flashed me a broad smile of her own. It was nice to have someone around who liked to mother her friends. It had been so many years since our own mother had died. As young as she might look, Iris was far older than we were.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, folding her hands together in her lap as if she were about to begin a recitation. "I was feeding the last of Maggie's breakfast to her when I heard a noise in the living room. I peeked in and saw the demon, and before he could smell me, I grabbed Maggie and her box and—" Pausing, she glanced at Chase and Morio. "And hid out where you found me. I heard you fighting with him and came out to help."
The Talon-haltija had very good hearing; they could pinpoint a mouse at a hundred yards. I wasn't surprised that she'd heard me, even through a secret passage. Grateful she hadn't given away Menolly's hiding place, I cleared my throat.
"As far as we know, the Psycho Babbler was alone," I said. "Which may mean that Bad Ass Luke is probably hiding down at the Wayfarer. I wonder if he's got any way of knowing that his buddy just bit the dust."
"You think they might be telepathically linked?" Chase asked.
I shrugged. "I have no idea. Nobody from OIA has dealt with demons for a long time except our father and the rest of his regiment, and he was the only survivor. Demonkin have a variety of powers, and they delight in using them to the detriment of everybody else. I just wish we'd paid more attention to Father's story about his fight with Luke. Maybe there was something in there that would help us now."
I glanced at my sisters. "Can you remember anything that might come in handy?" With luck, they'd paid more attention than I had.
Menolly squinted, leaning back in her chair. "Just that he almost lost his life." She sucked on her lip. "Hey, do you remember that he said that the demon had a sword that could slice with a blade of fire?"
Blade of fire? What? And then I remembered. Father had said something about Bad Ass Luke and his fiery sword.
"You're right. Father said that Bad Ass Luke cut down ten guards with a single stroke—all ancient Sidhe who had outlived battles that had felled countless of their kin. And Luke had managed to kill them all with his sword. A brilliant blade of fire attached to a carved bone hilt."
"Crap." Delilah's shoulders drooped. "I'd forgotten all about that. The only thing I remember is that Father said every time he went to make a move, it seemed like Luke was one step ahead of him." She looked up at me. "That doesn't sound good, does it?"
"Not really," I muttered. A blade of fire? The ability to predict the moves of your enemies? Each by itself was daunting, but together, the two abilities scared me out of my wits. I coughed, trying to find something hopeful to say about the situation, but all I could muster was, "Maybe we should rethink this? Maybe Shadow Wing is just looking for a vacation spot for his crew?"
"I wish," Morio said. "Any chance you can get through to OIA from here? Tell them about the Psycho Babbler?"
Chase looked at me. "You have a Whispering Mirror, don't you?"
I gestured toward the stairs. "In my study. Come on. Let's get this over with. Somebody better stay downstairs and watch Wisteria and Tom, though." I glanced at our guest, who had fallen asleep in the rocking chair. His head rested against the back of the chair as he gently snored.
Morio raised his hand. "Iris and I will stay here and keep watch. Go now. We shouldn't linger around here for much longer." He took up guard at the window, and Iris retreated to the kitchen to make sure the back door was locked and warded. Talon-haltija were creatures of many talents, and Iris was at the top of her class. For a house sprite, she packed one hell of a magical punch.
I led the way with Delilah, Chase, and Menolly following. Chase looked around, a curious light in his eye. I had to give him kudos. Since he'd discovered the delights of Delilah, he hadn't tried to flirt with me. He had more class than I would have given him credit for a few days ago.
My study was where I worked on my magic, made my potions, and spent a good deal of time curled up in the overstuffed armchair, reading. My Whispering Mirror was in the corner of the room, covered by a black cloth. I pulled back the velvet. The size of a vanity mirror, the frame had been worked from silver delved from the Nebelvuori Mountains—the lands of the dwarves.
The silver had been wrought into an interweaving knot work pattern, with delicate roses and leaves ornamenting the frame. It was stronger than it looked, thanks to the Wizards Guild, and it would last until either the charms were broken or until the winds of time wore away the world. The glass inside was tempered, though it could be shattered by a blow from a magical creature.
The mirror was voice-activated and specifically tuned to the frequencies of our voices—the only three who could use it were my sisters and me. Chase had a similar mirror in his home. The OIA decided it was safer there than in a public office and had charged him with keeping it secret from all but OIA members. I knew he kept it inside a locked closet and that he'd installed a highly sensitive security monitoring system.
I slid onto the chair and said, "Camille."
The mirror began to mist over. We waited, Delilah, Menolly, and Chase crowding in behind me. After a few moments, a voice from the other side of the glass said, "How may I direct your call?"
