Home Improvement: Undead Edition by Charlaine Harris Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Charlaine Harris
the price,” Sulton said.
“How observant.”
“Consider how valuable this security could be to you,” Sulton said. “The ingredients you’ve lost surely cost more than sixty gold.”
Broahm opened his mouth to spit a curse at the young mage, then paused, tugging anxiously at the end of his beard. “Go on.”
“A single wise, albeit somewhat painful, investment now would keep your valuables safe for the entire time you remain at this residence. You are, without a doubt, a capable spellcaster in your own right. But how long would it take you to prepare such spells from scratch? And this is only after hours of painstaking research. We at Wizard Home Security have done this tedious preliminary work for you.”
Broahm opened his mouth to get a word in, but Sulton pressed on quickly with his sales pitch.
“And we can customize the tone of your package to enhance whatever sort of reputation you’ve been cultivating. A wizard’s public image is everything, after all.”
Broahm raised an eyebrow. It had not occurred to him to have any sort of public image other than professional wizard. “How do you mean?”
“For example, if you want to perpetuate a sort of kinder, gentler image, we can fix you up with a capture gem to take intruders prisoner. If you’d like your potential clientele to see you as a bit more sinister, we can incinerate intruders. No problem. Nothing tells the public better that a badass powerful wizard lives here than dumping a pile of bone ash into the gutter where everyone can see. Burglars will think twice.”
“Seems a bit harsh.”
“Consider your empty cupboard,” Sulton reminded him.
“Good point.”
“Others prefer a guardian option.”
“You mean like a vicious dog or something?”
Sulton shook his head. “Nothing so mundane.”
“A vicious bear?”
“You’d have to feed and take care of a bear,” Sulton said. “I usually suggest a zombie. Or a skeleton.”
“I’m not paying for a zombie.”
“A zombie will simply stand there until it’s activated,” Sulton said. “No fuss. No muss. Stick it in a closet. I know one guy, he makes the zombie stand in a corner holding a candle in each hand, makes a nice lamp while waiting to repel intruders.”
“I said I’m not paying to animate a zombie. Those can be tricky, expensive spells.”
“Ah, but that’s the beauty of the zombie, sir,” Sulton said. “We can get you one secondhand.”
“Oh, come on!”
“It’s true,” insisted Sulton. “A wizard or priest raises one to perform a task—usually murder some chap—and then when the task is complete there’s still this perfectly good zombie cluttering up the place. No extra charge to you, sir. All part of the service.”
Broahm tugged at his beard again. He’d already made up his mind and was just deciding how to begin the bargaining. “Well . . . sixty is outrageous. Thirty.”
Sulton tsked and shook his head. “Sir, for that price I’d have to cut too many corners, and I don’t dare risk my reputation on a shoddy job. But it is my slow season, so I’m willing to make you an incredible bargain at fifty.”
“I do need some additional protection,” Broahm admitted. “That much is obvious. But it’s not like the Titans of the Underworld are coming to knock down my door. Surely we could do it for forty.”
“Forty-five,” Sulton said.
“Deal.” Broahm grinned.
They shook hands and discussed the details.
THREE MONTHS WENT by, and in the middle of a particularly bitter night, during a howling snowstorm, another intruder woke Broahm out of a deep sleep.
Technically, the house maiden had awoken Broahm, not the intruder himself.
“There is someone downstairs,” she said in a soft voice. The house maiden hovered over his bed, ghostly and glowing.
The maiden was a fake consciousness modeled to look like a house servant. She floated around Broahm’s five-story home, keeping an eye on things. Broahm had admired Bortz’s house
“How observant.”
“Consider how valuable this security could be to you,” Sulton said. “The ingredients you’ve lost surely cost more than sixty gold.”
Broahm opened his mouth to spit a curse at the young mage, then paused, tugging anxiously at the end of his beard. “Go on.”
“A single wise, albeit somewhat painful, investment now would keep your valuables safe for the entire time you remain at this residence. You are, without a doubt, a capable spellcaster in your own right. But how long would it take you to prepare such spells from scratch? And this is only after hours of painstaking research. We at Wizard Home Security have done this tedious preliminary work for you.”
Broahm opened his mouth to get a word in, but Sulton pressed on quickly with his sales pitch.
“And we can customize the tone of your package to enhance whatever sort of reputation you’ve been cultivating. A wizard’s public image is everything, after all.”
Broahm raised an eyebrow. It had not occurred to him to have any sort of public image other than professional wizard. “How do you mean?”
“For example, if you want to perpetuate a sort of kinder, gentler image, we can fix you up with a capture gem to take intruders prisoner. If you’d like your potential clientele to see you as a bit more sinister, we can incinerate intruders. No problem. Nothing tells the public better that a badass powerful wizard lives here than dumping a pile of bone ash into the gutter where everyone can see. Burglars will think twice.”
“Seems a bit harsh.”
“Consider your empty cupboard,” Sulton reminded him.
“Good point.”
“Others prefer a guardian option.”
“You mean like a vicious dog or something?”
Sulton shook his head. “Nothing so mundane.”
“A vicious bear?”
“You’d have to feed and take care of a bear,” Sulton said. “I usually suggest a zombie. Or a skeleton.”
“I’m not paying for a zombie.”
“A zombie will simply stand there until it’s activated,” Sulton said. “No fuss. No muss. Stick it in a closet. I know one guy, he makes the zombie stand in a corner holding a candle in each hand, makes a nice lamp while waiting to repel intruders.”
“I said I’m not paying to animate a zombie. Those can be tricky, expensive spells.”
“Ah, but that’s the beauty of the zombie, sir,” Sulton said. “We can get you one secondhand.”
“Oh, come on!”
“It’s true,” insisted Sulton. “A wizard or priest raises one to perform a task—usually murder some chap—and then when the task is complete there’s still this perfectly good zombie cluttering up the place. No extra charge to you, sir. All part of the service.”
Broahm tugged at his beard again. He’d already made up his mind and was just deciding how to begin the bargaining. “Well . . . sixty is outrageous. Thirty.”
Sulton tsked and shook his head. “Sir, for that price I’d have to cut too many corners, and I don’t dare risk my reputation on a shoddy job. But it is my slow season, so I’m willing to make you an incredible bargain at fifty.”
“I do need some additional protection,” Broahm admitted. “That much is obvious. But it’s not like the Titans of the Underworld are coming to knock down my door. Surely we could do it for forty.”
“Forty-five,” Sulton said.
“Deal.” Broahm grinned.
They shook hands and discussed the details.
THREE MONTHS WENT by, and in the middle of a particularly bitter night, during a howling snowstorm, another intruder woke Broahm out of a deep sleep.
Technically, the house maiden had awoken Broahm, not the intruder himself.
“There is someone downstairs,” she said in a soft voice. The house maiden hovered over his bed, ghostly and glowing.
The maiden was a fake consciousness modeled to look like a house servant. She floated around Broahm’s five-story home, keeping an eye on things. Broahm had admired Bortz’s house