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This Work Is Part Of A Series (The Messenger Archive Book 2)

Page 17

by DC Bastien


  Biann watched as a flicker passed over the other Hleen's face, though she fought it down rapidly, and then was back to her cool, calm facade. "I trade in power. In possibilities. Money is one thing, but if you can't keep it, or use it, it becomes pointless."

  "I understand. But I have no power."

  "Oh, but you do... even in exile, your father doesn't disown you. Doesn't declare Eru to be his heir. What do you think that means?"

  "He might still intend to take another mate."

  "Ail?" She laughed. It was a hollow, unpleasant sound. "If he was going to re-marry, he would have done it by now. He's still perfectly fertile, it's not a question of age. It's simply a matter of politics."

  "And not love?" Biann asked.

  "My dear, when you're part of a dynasty, love doesn't mean marriage," Nessin said, patting her on the knee.

  Biann really did not like her condescending tone.

  "He loved my mother," Kre said, an undercurrent to her voice there, that Biann had never heard before. "He grieved for her loss."

  "And he could have taken another mate, if he wasn't convinced that one of his offspring could take his place, Kre. Cil was never cut out for it, and Eru..."

  "Don't talk of my sister."

  "Why not? Everyone does. Did she really arrange for your brother to be--?"

  Biann shuffled back on her chair as Kre moved in a blur of colour. One minute she was sitting down for breakfast cakes, the next she was inches away from biting Nessin's face clean off.

  "Don't. Talk. About. My. Siblings."

  Nessin looked a little pale, even for a Hleen, except for the high colour over her cheekbones and Biann realised that this threat display was more than she'd bargained for, needling like that. Still, she laughed and shook it off, a single finger pressed to Kre's muscular arm, pushing her delicately back. "Like it or not, you're part of the bigger picture. Perhaps your sister will inherit the throne. Do you want that?"

  "It's not my decision to make."

  "Isn't it? Isn't that what the Za offered you, when you went to see him? A way back into the fold, his name passed down to you, your future secured? I didn't have ears inside the chamber, but I have eyes that read between lines."

  Kre looked ready to commit bloody murder. She stood up, turning sharply on her heels. Her tail almost swiped straight across Nessin's smug expression, a crude, but effective Sianar insult.

  "Why would the succession rites of my people concern you? You trade with all species. Neither I nor Eru has ever shown any hostility or preference towards you, or your company."

  "Kre, you have a lot to learn. The Sianar might be the only ones who stick to the old ways... ways which are dying, day by day. Everyone else moved on. Even your people are paying less attention to their head of state, and more to the head of their bank, to their investment broker. Where you had members of the court, we have members of the board."

  "So this is about... trade?"

  "Trade. Power. Influence. Connections. The Sianar are becoming more cosmopolitan, but the old guard still believe in the rule of claw. Your family is at the top of a crumbling pyramid, Kre. And you could decide which way the rocks slide. Not necessarily from atop it, either."

  That caught both of their attentions. Kre spun back around, head to one side and a question in her eyes.

  "Pardon me for being provincial and all, but didn't you want her to be the next Za?" Biann asked.

  "It's one possibility, yes. But there are other things we could do. Other... ways to guide this. I want what's best for me, and my allies. And if you were my allies, we could work out a way to propagate your goals."

  Biann had to admit she was good. She'd pushed into difficult territory, challenging Kre, making her defensive... only to offer a more moderate approach, now? It would seem all the more reasonable in the face of such an aggressive offer. This was business, like her uncle used to do it. She'd hated it. Saidhe had been better with it. If only Saidhe was here right now...

  "And what do you think my goals are?"

  "Well, that's where we discuss things." Nessin was back to prodding at her treat with her two-pronged fork. Biann had to stop staring at it, in case anyone else heard her stomach. "You tell me what you're interested in, I tell you what I'm interested in, we come to some mutually satisfying arrangement."

  "For a moment, I thought you were asking her out on a date," Biann blurted out.

  Nessin's smile showed teeth. "Sex is very like business, at times. After all, one of the oldest professions was selling it."

  "What... what are you interested in?" Kre asked, awkwardly.

  "First, sit down. Your friend has to eat, and then we'll put out some tentative ideas. How does that sound?"

  ***

  Chapter Sixteen Slashers Slashing: Mission - Celebration

  from: Kay

  to: Mandy Douglas

  date: 25 December 2014 10:01

  subject: Merry Day

  So, today is the day that everyone eats too much, swaps useless expressions of commercial interest, watches the same dull programming and wonders if card and board games were ever interesting.

  Yes, it's Merry Christians Stole My Pagan Holiday!

  I celebrated last night by wrapping all the presents I couldn't order from online wishlists, ate a load of brandy snaps until I felt vaguely nauseous and guilty that I'd not thought to buy real food in, and then fell asleep watching something I must have seen fifteen times by now. Maybe more, because it's probably on every Christmas Eve, and I'm a little bit older than fifteen.

  Now that I have you thoroughly miserable: good morning, sweetheart. I hope my presents were to your liking. I should have said earlier, but don't open them all in front of your parents. Oops. I forgot.

  I hope you have a fabulous day. I'll have my phone on at all times. Please feel free to lift my Christmas Spirits whenever you're able, but don't get ostracised as a result.

  Been there, done that.

  Kisses,

  K.

  ----------------

  from: Mandy Douglas

  to: Kay

  date: 25 December 2014 09:01

  subject: re: Merry Day

  The warning about the presents might have been better before I opened them! The icecream thing was fine, but the... er... one that needed batteries? I thought my dad was going to faint!

  I'm still laughing, though. I really am. They were great, and I'll try some of them out when I get home. :)

  And you can pretend to be the Grinch all you want, I know the truth!

  ~ Mandy

  Don't mistake my kindness for weakness

  ----------------

  from: Kay

  to: Mandy Douglas

  date: 25 December 2014 14:20

  subject: re: re: Merry Day

  Curses, rumbled again!

  Oh my god, did your parents see the novelty... uhm. 'Novelty' I sent? I think they have to class it as an amusement rather than a - you know - useful thing. Or they do over here. I'm not sure what your rules on... 'personal' entertainment objects are in the land of the free and pancakes.

  I might have been drinking. And by might, read 'have'. There is a small child sitting on my feet, bouncing up and down as if I am a horse, as I balance my laptop on the tray and keep the nibbles and booze within arm's reach.

  The child and I have come to some form of gentleman's agreement. I will continue to dance him up and down, if he keeps his sticky fingers away from my screen. I feel like the first Human to tame a wolf.

  Oh! Also: thanks! The Russian Roulette chocolates look like fun. Too much fun for this dull crowd. I might try feeding them to the small boy until he cries. I also love my socks (that may be the only time I ever say that) and did you paint that thing yourself???

  ----------------

  from: Mandy Douglas

  to: Kay


  date: 25 December 2014 09:59

  subject: re: re: re: Merry Day

  Are you going to train the wolf-boy to fetch things for you? Maybe to bark when people come too close to your nibbles?

  Yes, both my parents saw the... uhm. Dragon-inspired thing. Thanks. I had to explain you had an interesting sense of humour.

  I'm glad you enjoyed your gifts :) Please do not cause the wolf-boy to cry, his mother-wolf might come running. And yes, I did paint them myself.

  ~ Mandy

  Don't mistake my kindness for weakness

  ----------------

  from: Kay

  to: Mandy Douglas

  date: 25 December 2014 15:11

  subject: re: re: re: re: Merry Day

  Wow. You paint good. When I am more sober and less family I will properly appreciate it. Right now, I can just about say: wow.

  Wolf-boy has now moved over to the flashing, noising things I bought to keep him entertained. I approve of this, and no longer need to poison him with chocolates. Which is good, because I am going to eat them. Not now, because I ate so much stuffing that I might actually make gobbling noises soon. I will hold onto your ideas of training wolf-boy, and may employ them later. I am sure I could fit in some Pavlovian responses that will drive his genetic donors insane.

  This is probably why I shouldn't be allowed to breed. I would turn my child into a science experiment. I don't know what kind of experiments are non-science, but there must be some.

  ----------------

  from: Mandy Douglas

  to: Kay

  date: 25 December 2014 11:03

  subject: re: re: re: re: re: Merry Day

  I would also approve of some science-experiments on children, but I hasten to add in case the CIA are reading my emails that they would be moral and ethical. Not just evil. I mean not evil at all.

  We're about to sit down for dinner. I'm sort of dreading it, because my dad will go into parental overdrive when he's had a beer, and do all the questions to make sure I'm fine. He's worked out my grades are OK, so it's bound to be about internet predators. Or finding a job.

  ~ Mandy

  Don't mistake my kindness for weakness

  ----------------

  from: Kay

  to: Mandy Douglas

  date: 25 December 2014 17:57

  subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: Merry Day

  Shit, we had to play charades, and the one where you draw stuff on the board. I bet you're good at that. Mostly mine look like sharks eating lollipops, no matter what I'm trying to draw. Better at charades, but I'm apparently supposed to know all the programming for sproglets. All my siblings do, and so do my parents as they babysit.

  I might be a tiny bit competitive. Sometimes. So I got annoyed, and you're not supposed to get annoyed with children. Don't see why not! They need to learn how to lose... although I guess I prove my point by being a sore loser. Eh.

  Soon all the small things will be corralled into pits, or something. They take a long time to come down from sugar. Then it will be the earnest adult period, yawn.

  I would rather be on the internet looking at gifs of Christmas trees going on fire and reading M-Preg. Give me all the pregnant, grouchy males. (And yes that may be the only time I say that.)

  ----------------

  from: Mandy Douglas

  to: Kay

  date: 25 December 2014 15:15

  subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Merry Day

  So are we adopting a cat or a dog? I can't quite tell which you'd prefer. Although I know you like weird pets, too.

  Dinner was OK. I did not get lectured. I think I saw my mom kick my dad under the table, though, so that's probably why.

  I kind of wish you were here. OK, I do wish you were here. I think we would be cackling like witches, and probably half my neighbourhood would think we were witches and try to burn us at the stake, but it would be worth it.

  ~ Mandy

  Don't mistake my kindness for weakness

  ----------------

  from: Kay

  to: Mandy Douglas

  date: 25 December 2014 18:33

  subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Merry Day

  But do we float on water! I don't know! Maybe we should weigh a duck!

  ...fine, that might have gone over your head. I will have to teach you all about British Humour. It's complicated, and involves several uses of the word 'sorry'. If you think Canadians are polite, imagine us as elevating politeness to a lethal weapon.

  If you were here, we'd be conspiring in the kitchen. Probably spiking everyone's drinks and pretending we were subtle about it. And then talking about porn without using pervy words. It would be amazeballs.

  I have a dog. And a tortoise. I am not averse to any small fluffy, scaly or – well – anything. Just herbivores, though. Don't think I could feed fluffy things or even chirrupy bouncy things to other things.

  I'm going to get a taxi home, soon. I feel a bit... full. Of food. And drink. Not sick, just... full. I guess I'm getting old. When I was a student... I would have drunk every last thing in the house.

  Fine, I might have thrown up afterwards.

  I think I'm going to be an old git and go to bed, so that tomorrow I can wake up vaguely human and... well. Hopefully carry on writings?

  ----------------

  from: Mandy Douglas

  to: Kay

  date: 25 December 2014 15:36

  subject: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: re: Merry Day

  I did have a little drink, but not much. I wasn't terrified of it, so that was good. I couldn't really feel a buzz, but I guess you don't always even need to...

  Your emails made me smile, though. God, I wish we were closer together.

  I love the British sense of humor. Sorry - humour. You guys just... you're so dry. I think Americans have got better at it since the internet, but maybe I'm biased. You show me funny, I will show you guns. Sounds like a fair cultural exchange to me XD

  I think we're gonna watch a movie, now. So sleep well when you get home, my acerbic princess. I'll be on tomorrow as soon as I can be <3

  ----------------

  ***

  Chapter Sixteen: Mission - Concoction

  Sure enough, it was not long before there was a polite knock at the door. Loap looked over to Saidhe - exchanging a silent communication - before calling out: "Enter, Zer."

  It was Faria. The slighter Roq was almost dancing from foot to foot, glancing nervously behind him.

  "Come in," Loap said, standing to one side. "If you would like to."

  Faria nodded, ducking into the living room rapidly. He hovered like a man terrified, and if he was trying to hide his fear, it wasn't working.

  "I thought we'd see you again, soon," Loap said, gesturing next to a chair.

  Faria sat, though he didn't look more comfortable in it. "Yes. Well."

  "It's alright," Saidhe said, trying to be a little more reassuring than her friend. Loap sometimes was a little lacking in the inter-personal skills area. "You don't need to be afraid of us. We're not monsters."

  "I didn't think you were!" he blurted out, and started to tap rhythmically on the floor with his claws. "I... I should leave..."

  Loap clucked his tongue loudly. "You should say what it is you came to say, Faria. We're not spies. We're not cruel. We're actually quite... personable... when you get to know us."

  Saidhe was trying not to smirk at that. It was true, Loap had his charms, but he was something of an acquired taste. Biann, on the other hand, would have charmed Faria the minute he walked through the door. She wished her sister was here, and then tried not to let the worry distract her from this conversation. "Would you rather
I left?" she asked.

  The Roq's blue tongue flickered out quickly, tasting the air. But then he made the shrug that meant 'no' amongst his people, and sat forwards. "You know that neither Greach nor I are nadir or zenith," he said. "Or... you do. Perhaps you did not?" The latter directed to the Hleen.

  "I didn't, but that's because I don't have the sense of smell," Saidhe agreed. "I can tell you apart, I can recognise you, and work out ages... but that's about it. Hell, I've probably used the wrong pronoun a million times by now."

 

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