“Let me think this over,” she said. “Might take a few days.”
“I’d have respected you a little less if it didn’t,” I answered.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
While I was waiting for Lara to decide, December came to see us, and with it came the old man.
He was built like a bulldog, stocky and strong, wearing overalls and a heavy flannel insulated jacket against the cold. He was about five six, his hair was white, cut in a short buzz that was awfully thin on top, and I knew his forearms still looked ropy and well-muscled despite his age. He was near or over three hundred years old, he was the official clandestine killer of the White Council of Wizardry, and he was my grandfather.
We hadn’t really spoken since the battle. Since just after he’d shown me he was willing to kill me.
When the Knights of the Bean showed him into the great hall, I felt Bear tighten up as if a rabid, starving saber-toothed tiger had come to visit. No, check that. She wouldn’t have gotten nervous about the sabertooth.
My grandfather was the sort of man who could pull objects out of space down onto the heads of his enemies. And who had done so. There’d never been a natural predator as dangerous as Ebenezar McCoy.
“Bear,” he said, first thing, with a wary smile touching his grave expression. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Working,” Bear replied. “Standard contract.”
“Huh,” Ebenezar said. “One-Eye let you into the field? Last time that happened there was a world war, as I recall.”
“I don’t plan them,” Bear said. “I just show up for them.”
“Does seem to be going that direction.” Ebenezar sighed. “Only question is if the mortals are following us or if we’re following them.”
“I don’t get paid for the big questions,” Bear said. “Just for keeping hearts beating.”
Ebenezar looked from her to me and back again. “I feel better knowing you’re on the job,” he said. “Obliged to you.”
“Thank Lara Raith,” Bear said. “She’s paying my contract.”
“That’ll be the day,” Ebenezar snorted. “Hoss.”
“Sir,” I said. “This gonna be a walk and talk?”
“If you don’t mind,” he said.
“Sure,” I said laconically. “Bear, Wizard McCoy and I are going for a walk. Mind the store while I’m gone.”
“The city isn’t safe,” Bear cautioned us. “Especially after dark.”
I picked up my wizard’s staff from its resting place beside the door. “We’ll manage. Don’t follow us.”
“I won’t,” she lied.
Bear took her job seriously. She’d be somewhere out of sight behind us. I felt vaguely like a child whose mother was too determined to protect him to give him any freedom. “Bear,” I said reproachfully.
She looked back guilelessly.
“This is personal,” Ebenezar told her firmly. “I need you to be discreet.”
“I will,” she promised.
He nodded acceptance and then the old man and I did something we hadn’t for a good long while.
We went out for a walk.
