“Hey!”
\n“Wait!”
\n“Ow!”
\n“Hey!”
\n“Ow!”
\n“Wait!”<\/p>\n
I think I ended up repeating that particular selection of words somewhere between five and fifteen times while I was pulled and pushed and rolled around the floor and beaten with various broom handles (wielded inexpertly), a heavy plumbing wrench (hurt but was too heavy for the person holding on to it to do any real damage), a dustpan (what?), and finally the heel of a shoe (I think it was from a pair of galoshes), and my hair pulled and my arms bruised before they decided I was either harmless or not the droid for which they were watching.<\/p>\n
Yeah, not ending the sentence with a preposition kind of makes it lose its impact as a quote. My inner grammarian may have been quelled, but my geek flag was only partially unfurled.<\/p>\n
Um, metaphorically speaking, of course. This was not a moment for words like “turgid,” after all.<\/p>\n
“Now, now, that’s not very nice,” said a familiar voice. I slowly moved my arm from where it had been protecting my face. It made me let out another particularly manly grunt that didn’t in the slightest sound like a squeak or moan of pain.<\/p>\n
The Shadow King kneeled next to me, looking me over carefully. “I’m sorry, they thought you were me.”<\/p>\n
Since he looked like my evil twin, I grunted again at this. Not because I’d had the breath knocked out of me by, from looking, a few senior citizens, and a couple sorority girls.<\/p>\n
Not Sylvia.<\/p>\n
“You’re about to say that you couldn’t possibly imagine how that happened,” he pointed out. He was looking me over as if to assess the damage. I don’t know what he decided – if it was more or less to his liking.<\/p>\n
“No, I think I kind of guessed,” I managed. You know, when the breath is knocked out of you it isn’t just as easy as opening your mouth and letting the air back in again or anything.<\/p>\n
“That’s why I like you. You’re smart.” He hauled me to my feet in guise of offering me a hand. <\/p>\n
I refrained from pointing out that that’s often been said about my rear. Because it has. And the rest of me ain’t dumb, either.<\/p>\n
He grinned, whether it was because of my thoughts or just a general jovially conniving nature.<\/p>\n
That’s probably too many adverbs, and not enough paranoia.<\/p>\n
The Shadow King waved away the others, imperiously. “He is not the enemy,” he said. “Not the droid we’re looking for.” He didn’t care about grammar, either. “Stay vigilant. We have the bait.” He gestured towards a closed door.<\/p>\n
“And it works,” he said to me, as the galoshes-wielding gentleman passed us. “Doesn’t it?”<\/p>\n
“I can’t let you.” I reached for the words. I couldn’t let him use Sylvia as bait? I couldn’t let him do what he was doing to these people? I couldn’t let him steal my face, my life? I wasn’t quite sure where I was going with it, but he understood.<\/p>\n
Of course.<\/p>\n
“Come into my parlour,” he smiled. He waved at a sort of lounge-like area inside near the shared kitchen. The common room, darkened from the pull of shades and tables up against the windows.<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
“Fly away little bird?” he offered, pointing to the door.<\/p>\n
I sighed and adjusted my stance. If he knew my lines so well, he would have to know my body language.<\/p>\n
“They’re immune. They’re irresistable for being immune to those irresistable,” he said, as if it explained everything.<\/p>\n
“Now you’re not making sense.” That was a bit of a lie. I had a bad feeling I knew what he was saying. Since it was ridiculous to lie to something that’s shared a bit of your head, I didn’t consider it a real falsehood.<\/p>\n
“Something’s been done to them,” he waved in the direction of the household’s residents as they took up their various positions. “They’re immune to the…” he chose a word, “… seductors. Probably also immune to a number of beasts who rely on that particular technique. I eavesdropped enough to know you’ve spoken with one of the more predatorial.”<\/p>\n
“A vampire?” I guessed.<\/p>\n
“That’s your word for it,” he agreed. “They make these… seductors uncomfortable.”<\/p>\n
“Crowding their niche?” I suggested. <\/p>\n
He grinned again. “Probably.” He stretched a little and leaned against the doorway. “Your witch did this to the one upstairs, too.”<\/p>\n
“She’s not my witch,” I said, almost automatically.<\/p>\n
“Neither is the one upstairs, I think.” He smiled. “She gave me a warm welcome,” he insinuated with the quirk of an eyebrow. “But she’s too suspicious.”<\/p>\n
I smiled this time. “She’s got wards, doesn’t she?”<\/p>\n
His smile faded. It didn’t turn into an angry look, but it was definitely unpleased. “They are of no real concern. Do you know anything of the factions of the creatures who have swarmed this place?” He changed the subject, which was a particularly human thing to do. I noted it because I didn’t think it fit the, I don’t know, characterization, maybe? of a Power. A Force. A demi-divinity. <\/p>\n
“No,” I said. I’ve mentioned it before – sometimes admitting to not knowing something gets you learned. Um, in all the ways that might be interpreted. <\/p>\n
“Pity. I should leave you in ignorance.” He moved towards the window and pulled the shade back to look outside. <\/p>\n
I decided to take the route of pretending to have patience. Sylvia wouldn’t be distressed, but not in any real danger. I needed more information. Of course, the Shadow King outwaited the fey. Given that pixies were more hyper than ferrets on double espressos (what can you say with a diet of mostly sugar?) that may not be as much of a concern as it seemed, but it did suggest that he had no pressing business.<\/p>\n
Well and good. I found a chair to sit down in, and sat. I think twiddling your thumbs is when you do that roundabout thing where you move them back and forth against each other, but I’ve never been to twiddling school or anything. I lost most of the thumb wars I was in – my little sister was a cheat, I think. I waited.<\/p>\n
Time passed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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