Page 6 of Becoming Effrijim
“It doesn’t matter. You simply have to ... I’m sorry, my lord.” The sound became a bit muffled. I figured Cam must have whipped her phone behind her back so her boss didn’t see it, since I could hear a rumble of a man’s voice, but his words weren’t intelligible. “No, of course not. Nothing is more important than attending to your every word. I was simply speaking to one of Lord Amaymon’s minions about the leviathan ... oh. He called ... yes, I agree, it was a terrible event, and I’m sure that an investigation ... with all respect, my lord, perhaps your brother has misunderstood Effrijim’s role in—no, my lord. I have known him for more than sixteen hundred years. He’s not at all the type to do anything untoward. Well ... yes, I did recommend him, but ... no, my lord. Of course, my lord. No, no, please, Lord Ariton, I humbly beg—”
The phone went silent.
I frowned. “Camio? Babe? Is your boss pissed? Man, I feel all shades of guilty now. Last thing I’d ever want is to get you in bad with Ariton.”
More silence filled my ear. I listened hard, but couldn’t even hear the distant sound of voices. Panic had my belly feeling like it was doing somersaults.
“Camio? Did they take your phone? Cam?”
I had to go outside because I thought I might ralph right there in the McDonald’s. It took me a good fifteen minutes before I found a demon who would answer my call.
“What do you want?” a gruff voice asked when I took a few deep breaths to settle my stomach.
“Hey, Vodstoc, buddy,” I said, trying to sound a whole lot more cheerful than I was. “Haven’t seen you since the boss had that company retreat and you cracked your head on one of the trust falls. Long time no chat.”
“It was you who let me fall!” Vodstoc snarled, and I figured I’d better placate him since I was fast running out of demons who would talk to me. “I had a scar on the back of my head from it until I was able to change my form.”
“And it all worked out in the end, because you love this new form, right? Hey, can you do me a big one and pop over to Ariton’s palace, and ask if anyone’s seen a demon first class named Camio? She’s not responding.”
Vodstoc snorted. Actually snorted. Who does that? “Haven’t you done enough?”
“What?” I asked, looking at my reflection on the phone screen. Raised eyebrows looked funny with this face.
“I refer to your interference with the leviathan.”
“Oh, that.” I pursed my lips. Nope. Still not a good look. I’d have to change to another dog form. “Is Amaymon still pissed?”
“‘Pissed’ is an understatement. Very well, I will agree to your request, but only because I will take any excuse to leave the palace for a bit. I’ll ask about Camio.”
He hung up before I could find out how things were going in the six hours since I’d been given the boot, but called back within the hour.
“Looks like she’s gone,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.
Fire seemed to burn in my gut, but I ignored it. “Gone? As in left Abaddon?”
“Gone as in evidently Ariton smote her on the spot for letting the rutting beast loose into the master’s chambers.”
“But she didn’t do anything!” I felt like I was standing in the middle of a bonfire. “She wasn’t even in Amaymon’s palace.”
“I’m just reporting what’s being said here. It’s a bit odd, considering that we all know you were the one to put the leviathan in Amaymon’s room.”
There had to be something I could do. Someone I could contact. Ariton couldn’t just smite Camio on the spot for something she didn’t do.
Guilt joined the belly fire, making me get a bit barfy again. “It was a mix-up,” I said, thinking madly. Part of me wanted to sit right down and cry with the idea that Cam was gone, but the other part wanted to do something. Now! “Someone gave me the wrong information.”
“Shifting the blame is a new low, Effrijim. Why else would Amaymon kick you out of the legions and exile you from Abaddon if you weren’t the one who caused the ... incident?”
“Are ...” I swallowed hard a couple of times. “Are they sure Camio was destroyed? Not imprisoned?”
“The steward I talked to said it was outright destruction. Nothing left of her at all. Guess she had it coming, although we’re the ones who have to live with the results of Lord Amaymon’s fury.”
I sat down, my form shifting to that of a dachshund. I felt about as low as its belly.
“You still there?” Vodstoc asked.
I couldn’t say anything. Who knew wiener dogs had throats that seemed to close up with a big lump when they wanted to talk?
“OK, then. You’re welcome.” Vodstoc’s voice was full of sarcasm.
