Seven Dreams by Charlotte E. English

stood with her hands behind her
back.
    Her associate
proved to be male, and much taller — taller even than the Baron
himself, which he did not view with much favour. This fellow had a
little more countenance, he thought. The man’s face was expressive,
though his dark eyes bore the same bland expression as his
colleague. He was a partial Lokant, judging from the pure white
hair which crowned his head; though undoubtedly over forty, he was
by no means old enough to have acquired such a colour by natural
means.
    Overall, the
Baron was not impressed. Such a colourless pair he had rarely seen,
even among the Bureau. They scarcely possessed a memorable feature
between them. He smiled upon them with gracious condescension,
aware that to find themselves in such surroundings must feature as
a high treat with them.
    ‘ It is
always a pleasure to welcome our excellent friends from the
Bureau,’ he said mendaciously as he rose from his chair, setting
his precious book carefully aside. ‘What is the nature of your
business here?’
    The female was
casting surreptitious looks around his study, he observed. He was
pleased to note such an apparent interest in his treasures, though
she could not be expected to know anything about them. ‘We come
bearing a warning,’ she said, focusing her attention upon him. ‘We
have received information that something among your recent
acquisitions has attracted the attention of a Lokant of known
criminal connections, and we believe that your house may stand at
risk of a robbery.’
    This confident
pronouncement somewhat took the Baron aback, especially since it
was delivered without an ounce of the deference which ought to be
due to his position. His brows snapped together, but before he
could speak the woman’s associate stepped in.
    ‘ Your
house is very well secured, my lord, we can see that at a glance.
Our superiors, however, judged it best to ensure you were aware of
the increased risk, in case you would wish to make further
arrangements.’
    This speech was
much more satisfactory, and uttered together with a pleasing little
bow. But the man’s superiority of manner did little to convince the
Baron. ‘My good man, do you have the smallest idea how many objects
of value are housed here?’ he demanded. ‘The combined worth of all
my treasures would buy your life many times over, I make no doubt.
It would not be the first time my beauties have drawn the avarice
of low persons, and I have spared neither effort nor expense in
protecting them. What, I ask you, do you imagine there is left to
do?’
    ‘ An
upgrade to your security arrangements, perhaps,’ ventured the male
one. ‘Alarms, locks, everything. Lokant technology can be difficult
to defend against, and—’
    Here the Baron
felt obliged to cut the man short. ‘My systems are upgraded every
six months,’ he said with a dismissive wave of one manicured hand.
‘I employ the very best locksmiths, engineers and sorcerers,
naturally. There is no more to be done there .’
    ‘ Increased personnel,’ said the female. ‘Lokants are extremely
adept at infiltration through arts we cannot match, and it’s hard
to catch them—’
    ‘ I
have plenty of personnel,’ said the Baron.
    ‘ The
Bureau would be more than happy to assign some of its best security
operatives to this case,’ said the man. ‘They would be at your
disposal upon indefinite secondment, and they are well trained in
countering Lokant arts—’
    ‘ Out
of the question,’ said the Baron crisply. ‘I employ a great many
security personnel, all of whom are chosen individually by my chief
of security. I cannot countenance the admission of strangers into
my private household, no matter who vouches for them. I am
surprised it could be suggested.’
    He trusted that
such a decided statement would silence their impertinent
suggestions, but it did not! They had more to advance. The Baron
became engrossed in the examination of his perfect fingernails and
heard very