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the answer isn't 'no,' it's 'hell no.' In fact-" he grinned, and discovered it
was actually a real smile "-you couldn't get rid of me now if you paid me!"
Aurilia sighed, sipped her herb tea, and tried not to look at Niall mac Lyr.
She concentrated instead on the delicate, fragile porcelain of her teacup, on
the white satin tablecloth, and on the gray velvet cushions of her lounge
chair. Normally she would have been enjoying a luxurious breakfast along with
the tea, but her breakfast companion was not a creature designed to stimulate
anyone's appetite.
The Bane-Sidhe squinted across the table at her, and glowered, its cadaverous
face made all the more unpleasant by its sour expression. Every time Niall
moved, a breath of dank, foul air wafted across the table toward her. Niall
smelled like a fetid ditch-or an open grave. There had been times in Ireland
when they were one and the same. The Bane-Sidhe did not at all match his
surroundings in Aurilia's sybaritic sitting room of white satin and gray
velvet. He looked like a Victorian penny-dreadful cover, for something
entitled "Death and the Maiden," or "The Specter at the Feast." Aurilia sighed
again, and pulled the gray silk skirts of her lounge-robe a little closer. She
could only hope that when Niall left, he'd take the stench with him.
"Where is he?" Niall asked, for the seventh time. The Bane-Sidhe's speaking
voice was a hollow, unpleasant whisper; not even Vidal cared to hear its full-
voiced cry. The wail of the Bane-Sidhe brought unreasoning terror even into
the hearts of its allies.
Aurilia shrugged. It was no use answering him. She'd already told him she
didn't know where Vidal was. The Bane-Sidhe was only interested in his own
grievances.
"We have work to do," it continued, aggrieved. "Studio Two should be
operational around the clock-we don't have to put up with union nonsense or
mortal time-clocks. You promised me when I joined you that there would be
enough nourishment for all of us. You told me-"
"I know what I told you," Aurilia snapped, her temper frayed by the Bane-
Sidhe's constant whining. "I told you that eventually we'd have all the pain
you could ever need or want. I didn't promise it immediately."
"Pah!" the Bane-Sidhe snorted, tossing its head petulantly. "That was a year
ago! You could have had Studio Two in full production three months after you
brought up Studio One. It's not as if we have to fret about the cost of sets
or casts, or even equipment! But no, you had to chase after Keighvin
Silverhair-you had to waste your time discovering what he was up to. And
instead of being at full power, I must limp about on the dregs of energy a few
paltry deaths supply, and Studio Two has produced only that puny little Roman
fantasy-"
"You think humans come running to us to bare their throats to the blade?"
Aurilia countered with justifiable irritation. Niall simply would not come to
grips with the fact that the world had changed, and she had gotten tired of
trying to convince him that things were different now than in 1890. "You think
there's no risk involved in finding those 'paltry few victims'? This isn't the
old days; when people die or disappear, even if they have no relatives to ask
after them, someone generally notices! Take too many, and we'll be contending
with mortal police at every turn! I'd rather not have to fly the anchor off if
I don't have to, and if too many people come up missing, or we pick the wrong
victims, Folk or not, we are going to be-"
"That is not the point," the Bane-Sidhe whispered angrily. "Your-" It turned,
abruptly, its enshrouding wrappings flaring, sending a wash of dank stench
over Aurilia, as the door to her sitting room opened and Vidal entered.
She assessed his expression, and her already-sour mood spoiled further. If
Vidal had been unhappy before he left on his errand, he was livid now. Aurilia
started to ask him what was wrong, then thought better of the idea. The rage
that burned behind his thoughts was palpable even to her, and she was not
particularly sensitive to emotion.
Well, this time she was not going to play scapegoat. Niall would undoubtedly
want to know where Vidal had been and what he had been doing all this time.
And just as surely, when the Bane-Sidhe learned of his errand, Niall would
sneer at him.
Well and good. Aurilia would stay out of it. If anyone was to suffer Vidal's
anger, let it be the Bane-Sidhe.
After all, she thought maliciously, he spoiled my breakfast by arriving when
he did. Let him take it in the teeth. I've had more than my share of My Lord
Vidal's temper tantrums. Niall outranks him; let Niall exert himself for a
change.
"And where have you been?" Niall snarled. "I have things I wish to discuss-"
"And I don't give a damn!" Vidal exploded, his eyes black with rage, fists
clenched at his sides. He turned pointedly away from Niall and snarled at
Aurilia. "That thrice-damned human mage! Keighvin has had his little protégé
put shields on the old man. I couldn't touch him! And what's more, when I
threw bael-fire at him, the old bastard laughed at me!"
The Bane-Sidhe rose to its full seven-foot height, stood over Vidal, and
glared down at the elven-mage, its tattered draperies quivering with anger.
"Do you mean to say that you have been wasting your time trying to frighten
Keighvin's pet mortals when you could have-"
"I'm doing what you should have been doing, you shabby fraud!" Vidal sneered.
"You should have been the one trying to frighten the old man into a heart
attack, not me! Not even a shield would have stopped your wail-right? Or-"
"Why? Why should I waste my time, waste the energy it takes to cross the Gate
into the mortal world?" the Bane-Sidhe countered. "I've not enough to spare as
it is!"
Vidal was not to be daunted by height or stench, Aurilia had to give him
credit for that much. "Because Keighvin has to be stopped, or he'll stop us.
Even you admit that! If you'd been here-"
The Bane-Sidhe's eyes flashed angrily, and Aurilia held her breath. If Niall
grew enraged, he might lose control. "I would not have been wasting my time
pursuing a dead-end vendetta when there are other options open!" Niall whined,
his voice climbing dangerously in pitch and volume. "Humans are infinitely
corruptible. Just look at the sheer numbers of them that are willing to pay to
watch their fellows in torment! Look at our files! All we need do is find
these foolish mortals' weaknesses and they will be our allies, not Keighvin's!
It's simply-"
"A lot you know!" Vidal spat. "You haven't been Outside for a century! The
mortals you knew are as dead as the creatures of Tam Lin's time! You can't
corrupt a human by dangling a pretty piece of flesh in front of his nose
anymore! And they aren't naive little village boys with shit on their shoes [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]