The flames appeared in Magreth’s eyes and danced there angrily as she stared at the wild magic before her. After several seconds she said, “You come before me, an invited guest, granted my parole and protection while here . . . and you show not the least modicum of common courtesy?”
Sabreatha, with her shadows that never stilled, remained motionless for several seconds. Then again the shriek of some wild predator echoed through the garden, and slowly she lowered herself to one knee. She bowed her head, and the shadows fluttering about her dissipated. It was a slow process, as if it took a strong effort of will to banish the darkness that enveloped her. One by one her features became more defined and distinct, though the shadows didn’t disappear completely, for there was always a hint of them fluttering about her. But now, before Magreth, knelt a woman dressed in tight gray leathers, a long-sword strapped to her side, an unstrung long-bow in her left hand. She had pale, golden hair, twisted into dreadlocks that, with her head bowed, hung past her face and obscured it.
“That’s better,” Magreth said. “You may rise.”
In the blink of an eye Sabreatha had risen and stood proudly, stood over them both for she was easily a hand-span taller than Cadilus, and he was not a small man. Her eyes shifted color continuously, blue, brown, hazel, amber, black, every color imaginable, and her dreadlocks fluttered slightly as if touched by a light breeze, though Cadilus noted the air was still. She opened her mouth, hesitated as if she found it difficult to speak an ordinary tongue. And when her lips moved, her voice was no more than a haunted whisper on the wind. “You asked and I have come.”
It was an overt reminder that she was here at their request, and too, that it was up to them to state the purpose of this meeting.
Cadilus said, “We have a commission for you.”
The whisper of her words brushed across his senses. “And what kind of commission would that be?”
Magreth said haughtily, “For what kind of commission do you think we would summon one such as you.”
Sabreatha’s lips parted in something akin to a smile, but not a smile. She was quite beautiful in a strangely haunted way. “One such as me. An interesting turn of phrase.”
Magreth clearly did not like the tone of this meeting. “You are what you are, and we may desire your services.”
“I am what I am . . . and I am all that I am not.”
“You know what we need. This necromancer, he is dangerous if not controlled properly.”
Sabreatha stared at them for a long moment before speaking. “And what would you have me do.”
Magreth swept a hand out dismissively. “I leave that up to you.”
Again, a long pause filled with silence. “Perhaps les flèche du coeur .”
Cadilus flinched, and Magreth said, “An extreme solution. But, nevertheless, a solution.”
Sabreatha nodded her ascent. “I will deliver les flèche du coeur . And payment?”
“What do you desire?”
Now Sabreatha did smile. “Parole to walk the domains of the Seelie Court.”
Magreth shook her head. “Never.”
Cadilus intervened. “Perhaps, Your Majesty, if we placed the proper restrictions on such parole . . . you might find it acceptable.”
Magreth considered that for a moment. “Yes,” she said. “Yes, we may be able to come to an accommodation here.”
~~~
He pulled his car into the parking lot of the strip mall across the street from the bus stop. He had crafted a spell to hide the car from any watchful eye, a difficult spell he’d reinforced over a period of several months. It turned the eye subtly, made the watcher want to look elsewhere, and drew their interest away from the vehicle and its driver. But it was always wise to be cautious, so he found a parking place near other cars, but with empty slots next to it. It wouldn’t do to park way at the edge of the lot where all the stalls were empty. A lone car would stand out, and