“I would not be here, in this form, if that were true. To your question: No. I did not encourage nor offer any advice or plan for overtaking or destroying Ordinary. On my word, my Prince.” He pressed one fist to his throat and the other to his stomach, in what appeared to be an uncomfortable salute.
“Do you have spies close to my father?”
“No.” He hesitated, then offered, “Your brother may still be near enough he would know information.”
“The guy who tried to kill Bathin?” I asked.
Bathin lifted one hand to brush away that detail. “Still, I wouldn’t trust his word. There is nothing binding him to the truth. Unlike Mother’s spies.”
“Your brother could be crushed,” Xtelle mused.
“No crushing,” I said. “We want information, not bloodshed.”
“Then we can cross Goap off the list of new hires,” Bathin said. “All he has ever wanted is bloodshed and the throne.”
“Someone from Ordinary could go see what’s happening in the Underworld,” Rossi said.
We all turned and looked at him. He gave an inscrutable smile. “Certainly, you don’t think only demons can exist in the Underworld? There are all manner of creatures who walk those paths.”
“Vampires?” Jean asked.
He shrugged in a way that said yes.
Bathin grunted, like he’d just had something he’d suspected confirmed.
“Badass,” Jean grinned. “I didn’t know that. Myra, did you know that?”
“No. I’ll want details, Rossi,” she said.
“Boring,” Xtelle announced. “I regret wasting my time on this. Avnas, we have shopping to do.” She spun on her toe and, like the queen she was, drifted past Avnas, who pivoted to follow her.
“Well, then. If you don’t need me?” Stevie brushed his fingertips together, then stood from Myra’s desk.
“You’ve come through with flying colors, Stevie,” I said. “Thank you again.”
“Happy to help my fellow Ordinary citizens, of course. Thank you for the tea and chocolate. Ta, Reeds and Reed-adjacents.” He wiggled his fingers at us all, then was out the door.
“So, vampires, eh?” I said to Rossi.
He unfolded from the bench and strolled across the room. “Do you want me to see if I have any contacts down there?”
“Yes.”
He tapped knuckles on the top of the counter. “Are we also still going forward with the murder mystery?”
“Like Bertie would give up on an event,” Myra said.
“Good. I’ve been asked to play the starring role,” he said.
“The detective?” Jean asked.
“No.”
“One of the group guides?” Myra asked.
“No. I’m the dead body.”
Jean laughed. “Talk about type casting.”
