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Smoky took in the situation immediately. He held up his hand and looked at Trillian. "Hold on. We'll wait a bit before letting you take a crack at him."
Trillian was no slouch in the brains department. He shrugged and stepped back. "Fine, but if he doesn't cooperate, I'd be glad to help out." He tapped Camille on the shoulder and motioned to the living room. "We need to talk."
She frowned, looking at the spy. "All right. Delilah, write down everything he says." Following Trillian, she headed out of the kitchen.
Smoky slowly reached for the gag. As he lowered it, he said, "Any suspect move would be very bad for you right now. Do you understand?"
Horace nodded. "Yeah, I understand. Just don't turn me over to that creep from Hell," he said. "I'd rather be your boy toy any day. I know what they can do, and I don't want any part of their games."
Curious. What had happened to make him so afraid of Svartans? He was an Earthside Supe. It should be a long shot that he even knew about them.
"Your name is Horace von Spynne?" Smoky motioned to me, and I picked up a steno pad and pen.
"Yeah, yeah it is." He spat out the words.
Chase leaned back, arms crossed, as he eyed the spiderling closely. "Are you related to Geph von Spynne?"
Horace nodded. "He's my cousin."
I stepped up. "Were you here at our house before, with Kyoka?"
By the gasp he let out, it was apparent he wasn't expecting that question. "How do you know about him?"
"That's not your concern," I said, leaning down to stare him in the face. "We know a lot of things. We know all about Kyoka, and we know about the demons who are helping the Hunters Moon Clan. You realize you're pawns in Shadow Wing's game to take over this world? And that he won't leave you alive, no matter what he's promised?"
Horace blinked. "The Jansshi demon promised. And Kyoka won't let us down."
"He's already let you down," Smoky said. "He sent you on a suicide mission. You really think he doesn't know we're onto him? He's out for himself now, and the Hunters Moon Clan is just a tool to get what he wants."
I began to understand Smoky's strategy. Make Horace think Kyoka had sold out to the demons, and he might tell us everything we wanted to know.
"He's right," I said. "Kyoka knows that we're after him, and yet he sent you into danger, without a hope or prayer of surviving. What did he promise you in return for completing this mission? Money? Long life? Power?"
When Horace flinched, I knew I had hit a sore spot. "What happened? Were you in line for leadership of the clan before he returned? Did Kyoka yank away that dream?" When he didn't answer, I motioned to Smoky. "Might as well call in the Svartan and let him take our friend here away. Horace, I hope you're ready to face your worst nightmare—"
"No! I'll tell you," he shouted as Smoky headed for the door. "I'll tell you everything. I know what Svartans can do. Lianel is bad enough. Don't sic another one on me."
Lianel? Who the hell was Lianel? "All right, but you'd better spill everything you know, and you'd better do it quick." I forced as much menace into my words as possible, and Horace let out a shudder.
"What do you want to know?" he whispered.
"Why don't you start from the beginning?" I picked up my pen, and he opened his mouth.
Ten minutes later, he'd emptied his conscience. Horace was sweating buckets by the time he was done. He should be. If we didn't kill him, Kyoka surely would. I told Smoky and Chase that I'd be back and went into the living room where Trillian and Camille were talking to Zach.
"Trillian, we got some news out of the spy that you might want to take back home as soon as possible. There's a renegade Svartan who's helping Shadow Wing. He may be connected to the war, though I'm not sure. His name is Lianel—"
"Lianel?" Trillian jumped up, interrupting me. "Did you say Lianel?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did," I said, hopping out of the way as he barreled forward. "Why? Who is he?"
"He's wanted for murder and rape back in Svartalfheim. He kidnapped one of the King's nieces, raped her, and then slowly cut her to bits, one piece at a time. She was still alive during his… surgery. He killed her bodyguards, too. The girl was… young," he said, looking vaguely ill. "Very young. Lianel worships Jakaris."
That was enough to make me squirm. The Svartan god of vice and cruelty—we were keeping delightful company, it seemed. "Well, he's running with Kyoka and the Jansshi demon. That's why we've had such trouble getting a bead on things this time. The Degath Squad only has one actual demon in it."
"Lianel's worse than a demon. He knows more ways to torture a man than ought to exist." Trillian dropped into one of the chairs, shaking his head.
"What else did Horace say?" Camille asked.
