donuts…”
“Meat,” I told him, “is what I know how to cook. And it doesn’t take much, the way I do it.”
“True,” he agreed.
I shot him a look, but he was bent over his plate, wielding fork and knife like an epicure.
He must have eaten something earlier, because this time he didn’t go at the food like he was starving. He finished before I did and sat and watched me while I ate. At one point he got up and refilled my coffee cup. “I was wondering…”
“Hm?” I finished sopping the toast in the last drops of the yellow sauce and putting it in my mouth.
“What am I to call you?” He lifted his hands briefly. “What would you wish me to call you?”
Master of all masters? Your exalted greatness? I almost laughed aloud. “And you’ll call me anything I want, right? It’s another rule?”
“Yes.”
“I’m called Amber, here,” I told him.
He said, “But that isn’t your name?” in a friendly, suggestive way.
I smiled, not my nice smile. “But you aren’t going to know my name,” I told him. “My kind know very well the power of such knowledge. Besides, you couldn’t pronounce it.”
“I could,” he replied.
“But you won’t,” I said, still smiling. “You’ll call me Amber. All right?”
“Yes, Amber,” he said.
He might be in my service, I realized, but he certainly wasn’t tame.
“All right,” I said, when he had cleared my plate. “Let’s see it.”
He was so taken aback that for a moment he lacked the ingenuity even to pretend he didn’t know what I meant. He stammered when he said, “Pardon me?”
I looked up at him, just looked, and waited to see what it would take to make him give in. I didn’t have to do anything. In a short while his face crumpled. It was enough to make me start to think these rules he talked about really did bind him, as he said.
“It’s mine,” he said finally. He put a hand up to his chest, telling me where it was.
“Yeah? And what happened to ‘everything I have is yours’ from just a few moments ago?”
He looked utterly forlorn. “Please…,” he said. “I have to have it… I need it.”
“Well, I don’t,” I said. “I just want to look at it. I’ve never seen one before, at least not outside a person. Give it here.”
He was wearing it inside his shirt. He’d bought a pair of shoelaces at the store and used one to knot a kind of basket tightly around the vial and the other as a cord to hang around his neck. He laid it in front of me like it was holy. Well, probably it was.
I couldn’t see the vessel for all the string, so I pulled it away. He hovered in mute protest, but I gave him a look and he backed off to the end of the table.
It was in a small, thick glass vessel that fit in the palm of my hand. In it glowed something warm and luminous, with a pale white center, blue at the edges like an iris, entrancing to look at. The glass was rounded in the belly, tapered at the top, with a stopper of glass and wire that was welded to the opening and neck of the bottle.
“Where did you get this?” I glanced up at him, to watch him compose his answer. He might not be able to lie to me, but I was pretty sure he could equivocate till Hell froze. He answered readily, though, this time.
“I stole it.”
“Who’s missing this, then?” I held it up. It was difficult to put down, once I had it in my hand. He didn’t take his eyes off it.
“No one. I mean, no one who is alive. I once met a sorcerer. He could extract that from a newborn child, as he killed it.”
“Yuck!” I offered it back to him. He bent and gathered it gently in his hand.
“He collected these,” Richard continued, his words still carefully light. “I was kept in his house a while. When I departed, I took this one with me. He was in no condition to miss it. No one else had a use for it. But I have.”
“He was in no condition…?” I queried.
Richard met my eyes. “His house burned down. I was told he was dead.”
“That’s
“Meat,” I told him, “is what I know how to cook. And it doesn’t take much, the way I do it.”
“True,” he agreed.
I shot him a look, but he was bent over his plate, wielding fork and knife like an epicure.
He must have eaten something earlier, because this time he didn’t go at the food like he was starving. He finished before I did and sat and watched me while I ate. At one point he got up and refilled my coffee cup. “I was wondering…”
“Hm?” I finished sopping the toast in the last drops of the yellow sauce and putting it in my mouth.
“What am I to call you?” He lifted his hands briefly. “What would you wish me to call you?”
Master of all masters? Your exalted greatness? I almost laughed aloud. “And you’ll call me anything I want, right? It’s another rule?”
“Yes.”
“I’m called Amber, here,” I told him.
He said, “But that isn’t your name?” in a friendly, suggestive way.
I smiled, not my nice smile. “But you aren’t going to know my name,” I told him. “My kind know very well the power of such knowledge. Besides, you couldn’t pronounce it.”
“I could,” he replied.
“But you won’t,” I said, still smiling. “You’ll call me Amber. All right?”
“Yes, Amber,” he said.
He might be in my service, I realized, but he certainly wasn’t tame.
“All right,” I said, when he had cleared my plate. “Let’s see it.”
He was so taken aback that for a moment he lacked the ingenuity even to pretend he didn’t know what I meant. He stammered when he said, “Pardon me?”
I looked up at him, just looked, and waited to see what it would take to make him give in. I didn’t have to do anything. In a short while his face crumpled. It was enough to make me start to think these rules he talked about really did bind him, as he said.
“It’s mine,” he said finally. He put a hand up to his chest, telling me where it was.
“Yeah? And what happened to ‘everything I have is yours’ from just a few moments ago?”
He looked utterly forlorn. “Please…,” he said. “I have to have it… I need it.”
“Well, I don’t,” I said. “I just want to look at it. I’ve never seen one before, at least not outside a person. Give it here.”
He was wearing it inside his shirt. He’d bought a pair of shoelaces at the store and used one to knot a kind of basket tightly around the vial and the other as a cord to hang around his neck. He laid it in front of me like it was holy. Well, probably it was.
I couldn’t see the vessel for all the string, so I pulled it away. He hovered in mute protest, but I gave him a look and he backed off to the end of the table.
It was in a small, thick glass vessel that fit in the palm of my hand. In it glowed something warm and luminous, with a pale white center, blue at the edges like an iris, entrancing to look at. The glass was rounded in the belly, tapered at the top, with a stopper of glass and wire that was welded to the opening and neck of the bottle.
“Where did you get this?” I glanced up at him, to watch him compose his answer. He might not be able to lie to me, but I was pretty sure he could equivocate till Hell froze. He answered readily, though, this time.
“I stole it.”
“Who’s missing this, then?” I held it up. It was difficult to put down, once I had it in my hand. He didn’t take his eyes off it.
“No one. I mean, no one who is alive. I once met a sorcerer. He could extract that from a newborn child, as he killed it.”
“Yuck!” I offered it back to him. He bent and gathered it gently in his hand.
“He collected these,” Richard continued, his words still carefully light. “I was kept in his house a while. When I departed, I took this one with me. He was in no condition to miss it. No one else had a use for it. But I have.”
“He was in no condition…?” I queried.
Richard met my eyes. “His house burned down. I was told he was dead.”
“That’s
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