Kirk had vanished. Brownies found the eating of animals as offensive as Pixies did.
“Hello, Python. Got any stock tips for me today?” she asked, her back pressing hard against the cool edge of the marble countertop.
“Certainly,” he said, hacking off another leg. “But I don’t think you have the capital to invest nor the fee required to obtain such information.”
“Come now, Python,” she said, forcing out a smile in spite of her aching head and rolling stomach. “Do you really need any more money? Can’t you just do a favor for a friend?”
Python smiled too, but it was a thin, dangerous kind of smile. “The price for my favors is even steeper.”
“I know, but... I need your help,” she said, the knots in her guts tightening.
“I know,” he said, setting down his gleaming knife and wiping his hands on the towel tucked into the string of his red-and-gold-striped apron. He glanced at Damion. “Frank is afraid that your cousin will bring ruin upon our little sanctuary.”
“And how much will it cost me for you to allay Frank’s fears?”
Python’s smile remained as he unknotted his apron and pulled it over his head. Underneath, he wore simple linen pants and a loose crimson-hued shirt. He laid the apron down and limped to the sink to wash his hands. The profile of his face was flat, nose slitted, like a snake’s. When he was done washing, he dried his hands and picked up his cane.
“Your cousin has lied to you,” Python said.
She turned to Damion, scowling. “What lies?”
Damion opened his mouth as if to argue, but then closed it quickly, probably because he was afraid of being sick again. He shook his head vehemently.
“He has stolen something,” Python said, turning back towards them, leaning a narrow hip against the sink. “Something quite... powerful.”
Riker leaned away from Damion.
“I did not steal it,” Damion said, clutching at the door jamb. “I brought it to its rightful owner.”
Magda brought her hands to her face. “No, Damion. Please say you didn’t.”
Damion lowered into a crouch and then lifted the baggy leg of his sweatpants. Coarse rope bound a small swaddled object to his calf. He untied the rope with care. Magda’s heart began to pound, her throat tightening. She bit her lip, covering her mouth, holding her breath. It couldn’t be... he hadn’t... he wouldn’t have brought it here...
With just as much care, he rose again and set the wrapped object on the counter next to her. She moved back, in spite of the great bit of iron hanging overhead. Tears blurred her eyes.
“Oh, Damion . . .”
“It belongs to you,” he said through tight lips.
She shook her head, shutting her eyes, choking on a string of curses.
“What is it?” Riker asked.
“Go ahead, open it, Prince,” Python said, his voice closer.
Magda’s hand shot out before she could stop it, slamming down on the bundle. “No.”
Riker stared at her, startled. Python had moved closer to the stovetop. He covered a pan of vegetables and turned off the burner. “Frank was right, I’m afraid,” he said. “Your cousin has brought trouble.”
He drifted over to them. Magda’s hand curled around the hard object hidden under the wrappings. A fiery swirl pushed up through her, exploding the delicate restraint she’d had over that old part of herself—the Pixie, the noble, the Rae.
“All I ask as payment for this most generous warning I have given you,” Python said, “is that you open it.”
SHE SLID THEpackage off the table. Under the layers of hemp cloth, the sharp edges bit at her palm.
“I’m not going to open it,” she said.
“Then I’m going to have to ask for some other payment,” Python said. “And it will be most unpleasant, I think. Since I see that your future is dark indeed, I cannot offer you an installment plan. Besides, you were right. I really don’t need any more money.”
