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His stolid face puckered as he considered. “The Black Dog is not evil. You should know that.”
This surprised me, not because I disagreed, but because Larch was rarely forthcoming. Especially about anything to do with Rogue. “I do know that.”
“There is such a thing. Evil.”
I never had really believed in the concept. All was shades of gray. There was cruelty and self-absorption to the point of being destructive to others. I suppose I thought everyone believed they were doing what they needed to do. But evil? “Perhaps. But no, not evil—the Dog is simply what it is. Elemental.”
Larch inclined his head, part agreement, part tribute. “I thought that might be something you needed to remember, Lady Gwynn.”
“I see.”
We walked back in silence and now my thoughts creaked back into life, parsing what had happened. The cat thing in me had taken over, briefly, but with a stealth and power I couldn’t resist. It wasn’t evil though—that much I knew. It simply operated as the Dog did, without rules or boundaries, as purely itself. That was what Larch wanted me to know, offering me reassurance in his funny, oblique way. For surely he’d witnessed it, had seen clearly through his blueberry eyes that I had temporarily become something else.
At least it hadn’t torn my mortal body to limp shreds of flesh. Yet.
“Do you come with us to Castle Brightness tomorrow?”
“Yes, Lady Sorceress. Your tribute stores have been packed for storage. I assumed you would wish to travel light for now.”
“I assumed Rogue would have given you instructions.”
He snorted, a most un-Larchlike sound. “Lord Rogue is not speaking to me at this time. I believe he’s still angry that you slipped past me the other night.”
“Ah.” I took that in. “So, you are my prison guard then.”
“No, Lady Sorceress.” He blinked up at me with a sly smile. “That’s why you were able to escape so easily.”
I revised my assessment of Larch then. One more player for Team Gwynn. That should be rewarded.
“How much am I paying you, anyway?”
“As your seneschal, Lady Blackbird takes care of that.”
Well, yes—I knew that much. It still didn’t answer the question.
“How about a bonus then? Pick something from the Tribute Tent. Which I imagine is now the Tribute Self-Storage Unit.”
“Anything?” He sounded aghast at my cavalier generosity. Frankly, though, the vast majority of the things that had been given in tribute to me was stuff that I hadnoidea how to evaluate. If I did want to know the relative value of something, I just ended up asking Larch or Starling anyway. Given Starling’s tendency for hyperbole, I didn’t quite trust her take. Certainly Rogue couldn’t be counted on for a straight answer, particularly if another would give him more power over me.
“Yes, anything you want. One thing.” All I needed was to be embezzled of my entire fortune, such as it was. “And while you’re at it, could you dig out that vial of distilled dragon’s blood I concocted?”
“I will pack it in your bags for you.”
“No. I want it close to hand. Call me paranoid.”
He didn’t call me anything, but the disapproval wafted off him. Whether for my unladylike behavior or the risk-taking, I wasn’t sure and didn’t care.
“Um…” We were closing in on the tent. “You won’t say anything about…today?”
“Your secrets are always safe with me, Lady Gwynn.”
That, I did believe.
Starling was busily packing up the contents of the tent, a manic Mary Poppins with her singing and flinging about of dresses. She gave my dress the hairy eyeball and sighed.
“Did you just poof away the other one? It was expensive, you know.”
Oops.
