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“Thank you.”
“Of course. Whoever hired my people needs to be found. He or she got them killed, after all. And for what? To help a Light Phase?” Yuan snorted. “Those cave dwellers could never appreciate real beauty or sophistication.” His eyes (which were Mark Hammil’s eyes) flicked towards Cross, as if he was mentally adding him to the “all brawn, no brain” category too.
Cross smirked back at him and reached over to pick an elaborate blossom from a random plant. It was striped like a tiger and looked very, very rare. “Mind if I take this?”
Yuan’s mouth (which was really Mark Hammil’s mouth) thinned in annoyance. “That is a teslova orchid. My butterflies love them. They only bloom once a decade.”
“I grabbed it just in time, then.” Cross held it up for Gion’s inspection. “What do you think?”
Gion shrugged, as if he’d seen far more impressive teslova orchids. A butterfly fluttered near his arm, and he shuddered in disgust.
The boys really were spending way too much time together. It would only lead to anarchy, tears, and violent reprisals.
Rather than cause a diplomatic incident, Job held out a hand and let his Earth powers sink into the teslova orchid plant. He coaxed energy to the roots, drawing it through the long stalk. A new bud quickly formed, promising another yellow blossom.
Yuan didn’t look happy at the show of power. “What are you doing? Nothing artificial can taint my butterflies. They don’t typically like orchids, so I have to raise my own strain of particularly vivid blooms.”
“The orchid is genuine.” Job assured him. “It will naturally bloom in a few days. Now, we’ll leave you to your work. I’ll be sending a team out to conduct a search of the homes this afternoon.”
Yuan gave Job a dismissive flick of his wrist, all his focus on the plant. “Do what you want. Just stop bothering me about it.” He was clearly more invested in his butterflies than in his dead citizens. “Oh and please ensure that the Phases coming to ‘investigate’ are from suitable Houses, will you?”
“Suitable in what way?”
Yuan gave him an unimpressed look, not backing down from his snobbery. “‘No Fire Phases’ would be a good rule of thumb.”
“That won’t be an issue. Victims can’t take part in the investigations of their assailants. That wouldn’t be ethical.”
“Victims? Ethical? Those thugs?”
“The Fire House was nearly Banished for crimes they didn’t commit.”
“Yes, well, they committed plenty of others. I don’t want them here. Or those primate Light Phases, either. Or the Metal Phase morons. Or those warring imbeciles in the Smoke Kingdom. In fact, all the warrior Houses are filled with violent oafs and should stay away.” Yuan flashed Cross another pointed glare. “I don’t want riffraff in my kingdom.”
Cross flicked him off.
Job was patient and even-tempered, but he didn’t stand for anyone slighting his nephew. “Who is the Dark King?”
Yuan lost his superior expression. “What?”
“Before he died, Eian said Vandal was going to rise up and usher in the Dark King. So, I think that fucking coward --who’s hiding behind flunkies and attacking innocent people-- is the one I really need to find.” He arched a brow. “Any idea where he might be?”
Yuan looked nonplussed by Job’s uncharacteristic swearing. “Of course I don’t know! …And there’s no reason for you to be using foul language around my butterflies.”
Cross cackled at Yuan’s Butterfly-Dad indignation.
Even Gion snickered. “Hell, Job. It’s not often you aren’t the biggest prude in the room. Congratulations.”
“Leave.” Yuan snapped, embarrassed by the laughter at his expense. “All of you. Right now!”
“Of course. Thank you for your time.” Finished with his official/unofficial visit, Job ushered Cross and Gion towards the door, grateful to be leaving the Reflection House. “The Council of All Houses appreciates your cooperation.”
Chapter Seven
There’s still an element about [her] that worries me. That withdrawn quality.
America’s Next Top Model
“I’m not cutting my hair off.” Kahn informed her, a hunted look in his eyes.
