“Tell me all about yourself, Roddy.”
One of the Ladies of Leathe — Lady Marceny it was — had said almost exactly that, in the same sweet, condescending tone, and Tod had been very scared indeed. Afterward August Gordano had opined that he was quite right to be scared. “Always trust your instinct, boy, where those kind of women are concerned. If they notice you, they want something. They eat men for breakfast — and never forget it!” While Tod did not give this Paulie credit for being quite as dangerous as Leathe, the memory of Leathe came to him so strongly with her that it made him thoroughly uneasy. And it was fairly clear to him that she, too, ate men for breakfast. He understood now why Brother Tony was so cheerful about going elsewhere.
“All about myself,” he said. “Well, actually I’m an exile from a pocket universe called Arth where all the residents are mages. Most of them are in the business of spying on you people, as a matter of fact, but not being able to get a really close view, they sent me to be a spy in your midst. My real home—”
He stopped because Paulie was swaying about with laughter, her arms plumply clasped around her knees. “Oh, Roddy! Tony told you to say that, didn’t he? He spun me just the same yarn when I first met him! Tell me what you really do before you make me die laughing!”
And not even original! Tod thought sadly. Paulie’s laughter, he noticed with foreboding, had served to unwrap the floral gown from around her. At the top, a good deal of plump black bra was showing, and below, much of a smooth white leg. Depression seized him, because these sights were not without their effect. His recent brush with Zillah had most strongly reminded him that he was missing women badly.
“The truth is that I work at Sick and Guttersnipe, just like Brother Tony,” he said.
“Oh, is he your brother? You don’t look a bit alike!” Paulie leaned forward, and more plump things showed.
“Now you tell me all about yourself,” Tod said hastily.
“Nothing to tell really,” Paulie said lightly. He could tell her lightness hid deep discontent. “I’m just a housewife married to a computer expert. Mark’s in computers now, though when I first met him, he didn’t seem to be anything. A friend of mine — American — found him wandering around London, and he didn’t seem to know who he was, even, beyond his name. Koppa thought it was drugs, though I still think it was something more interesting than that. Anyway, she took him in — I was sharing a flat with her then, so we both looked after Mark until Koppa moved out. I tell you, I looked after that man like a mother and taught him magi — well, taught him all sorts of things, everything I knew really, and I was even fool enough to pay to get him retrained in computers. You know, Roddy, I’ve done everything for that man, given up luxuries and the best years of my life, and he’s given me nothing in return. Nothing!”
“He married you, didn’t he?” Tod said.
“Only when I asked him!” She leaned toward him.
Tod leaned defensively back. “And this looks to be a nice house.”
“It’s a nice prison!” Paulie declared. She smiled, still leaning forward, with her chin almost on Tod’s knees. “But you won’t want to listen to my troubles, will you?” Her hands came out and clasped Tod on either side of his head, a grip hard to break. “A nice boy like you, Roddy, doesn’t want words. You want action.” She stood up, arched over him, and the floral gown fell apart.
Here we go! Tod thought resignedly.
But it seemed they did not. His hands had barely grasped the proffered plumpness when it was whisked away from between them. Paulie was suddenly standing a decent three yards off, not a hair disarranged, and was swiftly retying her gown. Tod was gaping at her, as much injured as relieved, wondering what kind of teasing this was supposed to be, when he was aware of footsteps in the hallway. His head shot around — he was sure he looked the picture of guilt — and he saw a pale and serious man entering the room. “Maureen’s still not called me back,” the man said as he came. “I’ve called her answer phone six times now. I suppose she’s still asleep.”
“Hallo, Mark love!” Paulie cried out. “You’re back early, aren’t you?”
Mark, in a measured way, laid his broad hat on a table and removed the spruce raincoat he was wearing over his dark suit. Not till then did he look at his wife. Giving her time to get her sash tied, Tod thought, uneasily recognizing the signs. Tod himself got to his feet, but was ignored.
“Yes, I am a little early,” Mark said, “but there’s no need to be so surprised. I did warn you. I hoped you’d be dressed. Do you spend all day in your dressing gown?”
“It’s a housecoat,” Paulie said petulantly. “I’ve told you before. And what do you mean, you warned me? Was that phone call about Amanda fussing supposed to warn me? I thought you meant she was coming to supper.”
“I made myself quite clear,” Mark said, mildly, but with an air of speaking through clenched teeth. “I wish you’d listen. Amanda’s sister has gone missing, and Amanda was in such a panic when she realized that she asked Gladys to find her. Now she knows she shouldn’t have asked, because Gladys is old and tired out, so she’s asked us to go with her and help Gladys. If we all—”
“But you were on about supper and Amanda precogging all sorts of dire stuff,” Paulie interrupted. She was standing very upright and carefully straightening the bow of her retied sash, as if the annoyance in her voice had nothing to do with her body. “How am I supposed to sort all that out?”
“You only hear what you want to hear,” Mark observed, with the same teeth-clenched calmness. To Tod, listening, it was as if neither Mark nor Paulie was able, for some reason, to show the anger they felt. What stopped them, he had no idea, but whatever it was, he had a growing feeling — quite apart from the awkwardness of his own situation — that it was strange and wrong and terrible.
Tod had been in this situation once or twice before. He had also, many times, stood in the margins when his numerous brothers-in-law quarreled with his sisters. But he had not felt so threatened by anything since he spent that time in Leathe. He could not understand it. “I told you,” Mark went on, in the most calm and domestic way, “that I am worn-out too, and I asked you to drive us both to Herefordshire because I’m tired enough to have an accident. I thought you agreed. The idea was that you’d have some food ready to take — because you know how I hate Gladys’s pies — and we’d pick it up and be on our way. I’m ready. I left the car running. And I find you aren’t even dressed.”
“You may have had all that clear in your head,” Paulie retorted, motionless as a statue, “but you didn’t make it clear to me. I don’t read minds, Mark. If you’d made yourself clear, I wouldn’t have invited Roddy round. Mark, this is Roddy.”
Mark turned to Tod and looked at him, truly, Tod thought, as if he had not noticed him until then. Tod’s sense of danger increased tenfold. The feeling of Leathe grew. Mark was, as most men were, considerably taller than Tod, and Mark was, after all, the husband Tod had been about to injure — which was awkward enough and put Tod at a disadvantage enough — but, as Mark’s gray, dispassionate eyes met his, Tod saw that the man was also a powerful mage. It was enough to make Tod, by reflex, call up his birthright. To his slight surprise, the birthright was half-roused already, waiting for his call. Maybe the feeling of Leathe, lurking between these two people, had been enough to trigger it.