Friday, October 26, 2012

Dead Rite chapter 130.04


Manoach curled his lip as if sickened by the sentimentality of the request. “That rather depends upon where she is. If you're about to say “safely asleep in bed with the nanny looking after her” I'm hardly likely to say yes, am I?”

“She's just outside the room with Jasfoup.” Harold pointed at the door he'd entered by. “We had to bring her with us because one of these oily black fellow left her without a soul to call her own.”

“Really? I don't remember ordering that.” He fell silent for a moment, a frown of concentration on his face. At least, Harold assumed it was concentration. He really couldn't be sure. It could be wind, if two-thousand year old men still had intestines. He looked up again. “I did, however, send a demon to collect your daughter. I've not heard from it since. You wouldn't know anything about that, I suppose?”

“Ah.” Harold pulled his lips back from his teeth in the manner of Price Charles talking about architecture. “I do, as it happens. I'm afraid your demon ran into my mother.”

Manoach turned to study the tableau around the altar. “So?”

“My mother knows a good deal about the habits of demons, having summoned my father at a young age. She's also a friend of Legion herself. Himself.” Harold's beetled his brow as he thought about the pronoun. “Itself?”

“Legion reclaimed it?”

“I can't say for sure. It might still be languishing in whatever pit of Hell truanting demons are placed in.”

“A pity.”

“Were you close?”

“We've been together for twenty centuries.”

Harold offered a tight-lipped smile. “I'd have got you an anniversary present if you'd mentioned it beforehand.”

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