Tenebrae Manor by P. Clinen Page A

continued.
    "Even were we to be relieved of such a heat wave, what would follow? I ask you; what would naturally tail a summer of such intensity?"
    Bordeaux thought a moment. "One would hazard to guess at a blizzard."
    "Exactly. The weather will do as it pleases, Bordeaux. And even if we were to possess some powerful magician who could control such phenomena, say - a glutton whose self importance is as inflated as her abdomen, why would she concern herself with our troubles?"
    "Hmm, yet Libra informed me the control of weather was beyond her skill."
    Deadsol guffawed. "And you my friend? You believed such piffle? She can maintain a night of everlasting proportions and you thought a simple heat wave was beyond her skill?"
    "I suppose I had not seen it that way."
    Deadsol had struck a blow on Bordeaux's dignity and though they had conjured a friendship capacitating of such honesty, the crimson demon seemed eager to move onto other subjects.
    The two blew slow wisps of indigo smoke into the void beyond them, swollen as it were with pines of infinite number. Bordeaux's thin lips parted and from his mouth slid a smoky serpentine dragon of terrific tooth and whisker. Above them, the dragon took on a life of its own, as rabbits of smoke snorted from Deadsol's prominent nostrils leapt forward only to bounce into the stream of indigo flame of the dragon, perishing instantly. Some were constricted by the beast, some caught in its savage jaw. Others simply took one hop too far and found themselves caught in the embers of the dragon's fiery breath. The two demons were pleased at their puppet show, before Bordeaux's eyes focused beyond the curls of smoke into the trees below.
    "Do you think he'll find it?" he asked.
    "He always does."
    As though he knew he was being spoken of, Comets hurtled over the banister and plopped onto the balcony, breathing heavily.
    "Well, speak of him and he comes," said Bordeaux. "Comets, what of this intrusion? Did you find the shiny thing?"
    A triumphant Comets held forth a silver coin, gleaming as bright as his smile. "Found!"
    "Quite good, lad." Bordeaux turned to Deadsol. "Your turn or mine, my friend?"
    Deadsol gestured an invitation with the sweep of a hand. "Let it be yours, fine citizen."
    "What joviality. See here, Comets. Hand it over."
    Comets snatched his hands away, cradling the coin like a bird egg.
    "Come now, Comets, you disagreeable scoundrel," said Bordeaux.
    "The shiny is mine!" said Comets with defiant finality.
    Not one to sway towards random physical violence, Bordeaux simply stared intently at the jester until his intimidating gaze became all too much for Comets and the coin exchanged hands.
    Comets took a step back; head down like an obedient canine as Bordeaux tossed the coin up and down in his hand.
    "Last time, Comets," Bordeaux reminded.
    Swinging his forearm in revolutions like a pendulum, the crimson demon wound up his strength and let loose an almighty throw. The coin whistled into the night, cutting the cobwebbed gloom like a sickle. Its reflection lingered a moment, before sight of the medallion was lost to the black trees.
    Comets darted over the precipice with unrestrained vigor until he too disappeared from view.
    “Deadsol, I had wanted to inquire - the man?” Bordeaux sat back down.
    “He is not going anywhere,” Deadsol assured. “He’s right where we left him, bound with ropes now, too.”
    “Be sure to spare him, Deadsol.”
    “Cease this fussing, B. You and your sappy sentiment! He’s being fed. Madlyn is taking him the scraps of Libra’s excessive meals. Scraps though they may be, with Libra’s hunger as it is, you can be sure that he is well fed indeed.”
    “I must thank you for your restraint, Deadsol.”
    “You are welcome, my friend. Much as I’d like nothing more than to prey upon such a fragile mind, I realise you need one less stress on your mind at present.”
    Bordeaux smiled, “You are far more charming when you suppress your ribaldry.” The