Page 37 of Time's Fool

“To take the lady with me—to see another Lady,” he added, the emphasis making them both blanch. “Unless you’d like to come?”

They both shook their heads vigorously.

“What lady?” Gillian asked, coming up behind him.

He threw the moveable portal he’d been carrying at the garden wall, and watched it expand into a nice, large doorway. “One who most heartily desires to make your acquaintance,” he said, and handed off Gillian’s daughter Elinor to the nearest vamp.

“But do I desire to make hers?” Gillian asked archly, before taking his proffered arm.

“On that madam, I have no opinion whatsoever.”

* * *

No opinion, Gwen thought grimly, moments later. But she had one, not that anybody had asked. And not that they would like it if she spoke up!

And here she’d thought that perhaps Kit was bringing her another of those pastries she loved, from the shop near his lodgings. Maids of Honor they called them, with dough light as a feather and sweetened curd cheese inside. Instead, here she was in her workaday dress, feeling shabby and sweaty amid the opulent surroundings of the Parisian home of the Vampire Senate.

That was where the portal had let out, although it had been like none she’d ever seen. So smooth and effortless, it was almost like walking through an actual doorway, with none of the wild, raw power that such things usually exhibited. That sort often left a person thrown onto her backside, but not this time.

She’d barely had a hair out of place when they arrived, because a great deal of magic had been expended to make it so. And people with that kind of power to show off made her nervous. She didn’t like feeling nervous.

She didn’t like this room, either.

Kit had gone ahead to make their presence known, leaving her in the middle of a large octagon comprised almost entirely of ornate, inlaid marble. It was in a star pattern on the floor; in panels with intricate vines and flowers on the walls; and in a dome high over her head that, surprisingly, let light cascade down from a central opening. It lit up all the hidden depths in the marble, which she supposed was the idea, but left her wondering what the lower-level sort of vampires were supposed to do.

Step lively, she supposed, or end up littering the fine flooring with their ashes.

Of course, maybe there weren’t any low-level types around here. Even the servants gave her a feeling of power as they swept by, like a warm prickle over her skin, while disdaining to acknowledge her grubby self by so much as a nod. It was annoying, but also potentially useful.

There were, after all, so many expensive knick-knacks just lying about, because who would steal from the vampire queen?

Gillian drifted over to a cabinet perfectly fitted into a nook. This seemed to be a place where visitors cooled their heels until needed, and were subtly reminded of the age and power of the Lady whilst they did so. Most of that was lost on Gillian, who supposed that the top few shelves contained very interesting and useful items if she knew what they were, but she did not.

And did not much care, as they were made of stone, iron, bronze or ivory, which helped her not at all. However, on a shelf halfway down was something a bit more interesting: a curious statue wrought in what appeared to be solid gold. It was a good ten inches high, and depicted a muscular man’s body in a short, tightly-fitting pleated skirt, but had a dog’s head.

It was very odd looking, but the garnets making up the eyes were quite nice, and the heaviness of the gold was impressive. There was also an ivory something on the shelf below with more jewels around the spindle-like base, right before something that looked like a tuft from a horse’s tail began. Gillian had no idea what it was used for—an odd sort of fan, perhaps? But the jewels were fine, and worked into an impressive band of inlaid lapis lazuli, carnelian and gold.

Properly carved out, the band might make a decent ring—

Or it would have, had it not been plucked from her hands between one blink and the next.

She looked up to find Kit regarding her wryly. “I should have known better than to leave you here alone.”

“I was just admiring the decor—”

“I can see that. Although it is rather more common to admire it whilst it is on the shelf.” He put the item back. And then stood there, waiting.

She would have tried it on with anyone else, but Kit knew her too well. She sighed and handed over the statuette from a fold of her skirt. “I should get some recompense for this,” she grouched. “It’s taking up my whole day.”

“Play nice,” he advised her, taking her arm and bending close. “And the Lady has been known to be generous.”

“Generous?”

“Very.”

Gillian perked up.

They walked down a marble hallway, albeit a fairly plain one this time, except for an inlaid band of marble along either side of the floor. “Did they run out of funds?” she asked Kit, who took a moment to understand what she meant.

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