Mammon by J. B. Thomas

signs of nervousness. Twitching fingers. Gleaming sweat on arched eyebrows. Eyes darting around the room. Trembling legs, rustling the satin of a fine dress.
    The room pulsed with anticipation. They all felt it, knew it. It was the energy that Master gave out.
    Yet Halphas was tired.
    Against a large window that spanned the starboard wall, silhouetted against the sunlight, stood Mammon, hands in pockets, staring out across the water.
    â€˜Master,’ Halphas said. ‘I’ve seen a Sign!’
    Mammon turned and gave him a sharp stare. ‘Are you sure?’
    â€˜Yes, Master! In this very city.’
    Halphas fought an urge to shrink: even behind his sunglasses, Master’s eyes were searing. ‘Are you absolutely sure, Halphas?’
    â€˜You have no reason to doubt it, my Lord. I’ve tracked the Sign to the City’s northwest. I have people monitoring the house now.’
    Mammon stared at him. ‘The suburbs?’ He curled his lip. ‘How unpleasant. I do hope this isn’t another disappointment.’
    Halphas tensed. The billiards game had ended; he felt an insolent gaze burning in his direction. Then, predictably, Andras slithered his way to Master’s side. He folded his arms and regarded Halphas with a cool stare. Halphas ran his own gaze over Andras’s clothes – the upstart looked as though he’d just emerged from a menswear catalogue. What a good little clone he was.
    Halphas turned his eyes to Mammon. ‘The signal is very strong, Master. Only thirty seconds this morning, and yet – so very powerful. It was easy to tune in and find him. The boy lives with his parents and sister. He’s been outside working on a motorcycle all morning, so my people have been able to watch him for some time. Seems like an ordinary teenage lad.’
    Halphas drew a breath and smiled. This was his moment of glory. Using his unearthly intuition, he’d tracked another Ferryman in just days. These apprentices could not offer Master anything close to this.
    Mammon slid his sunglasses into his shirt pocket. ‘Well, what do you suggest now, Halphas?’
    The old servant scratched his ear. ‘There’s a problem.’ Despite himself, he stared at the floor, Master’s expectant gaze burning into his forehead. ‘The house is protected.’
    â€˜That won’t stop us,’ said Andras.
    Halphas threw him a triumphant glance. ‘Our kind can’t cross a Line of Protection.’ He raised his eyebrows as Andras’s smile fell. ‘Or didn’t you know that?’
    â€˜It still won’t stop us,’ Andras said. He turned to Mammon. ‘Master, I can sort this.’
    â€˜Mmm.’ Mammon’s lips twitched. ‘We need to draw the boy out. But carefully.’ He paced for a few moments, then he turned to Halphas with a lifted finger. ‘Dig into the family’s background. It’s not normal for a suburban house to have a Line of Protection.’
    Halphas bowed his head. ‘I have already made extensive enquiries, Master. I have been told by a reliable source that the Line was there years before the family moved in. After watching the family, I believe that they are not aware of its presence. A mere coincidence.’
    â€˜Master, let me help,’ Andras said. ‘It will be far more discreet than using any of your military resources.’
    Mammon pressed his fingertip to his lips. ‘It has to be done right.’
    â€˜It will be.’
    â€˜Well, fill me in on the plan.’ Mammon placed his hand on Andras’s shoulder and led him on a slow walk towards the deck. He threw a last glance over his shoulder. ‘Turn the boat around, Halphas.’
    The old servant gritted his teeth as he made his way from the room. Master blamed him for the last failure. And now Andras was taking control with a thrown-together plan. Why did Master indulge these young ones so recklessly?
    * * *
    GRACE