“And?” Maggie asked. “Those can’t be the only conditions.”
“It’s not a condition, since Briar Girl didn’t agree,” Lola said, “But we’d very much appreciate it if you didn’t mess with the wedding. It’d be interfering in the Lordship game in a general sense, if not technically.”
“Fine,” Maggie said. “Get to the meat of it.”
“You can’t go and help the enemy,” Gavin said. “If someone intervenes at the right time, then things get more complicated.”
“Ahh,” Maggie said. “That’s what you’re worried about.”
Penelope said, “We talked it over, it’s not hard to figure out what he’s offering you, and we decided we’d top the offer. The resources of two families, Briar Girl will teach you some stuff in exchange for us doing her favors. I can’t imagine you’ll get a better deal.”
“Not anytime soon,” Maggie said.
“The only lump knowledge Blake can offer that we can’t is knowledge on diabolism,” Gavin said. “And if you’re going there, we’re going to have a problem, I’m sure you understand.”
Maggie nodded slowly, considering. “Meaning that if I can’t come up with a good argument as to why I’m not accepting your deal, you’re going to assume I’m a wannabe diabolist, and I’m public enemy number two, after Blake himself?”
“No,” Penelope said. “I can’t speak for the others, but I wasn’t after that sort of ultimatum.”
“I was. Her answer should clear stuff up,” Gavin said.
“Okay,” Maggie said. “Patrick? Are you part of this deal or something?”
“It’s interesting,” he said. “But I’m merely here as an observer.”
“Let me give this a shot, then,” Maggie said. “Arguments why I shouldn’t take the deal? If you guys came up with it on your own, I could fall for a bait and switch. Your parents step in, they act without your knowledge or assent, and I lose all the benefits while still having to pay the price.”
Craig raised a hand, as if asking for permission to talk. He was one of the youngest present, alongside Joanna, middle school or so, and blocky in terms of how he was put together. Not muscular, not fat, just something in between, with a very typical Behaim square jaw. Laird’s son.
“Go ahead,” Gavin said.
“I told my dad, Laird, and he said he’d see how viable it is. I’m not sure, but he talked to Sandra,” Craig said, glancing at Lola and Penelope, “And everyone else that’s important, to make sure it’s okay. He said it should be fine, and he’d step in if things got messy.”
Laird.
Maggie wasn’t sure if that helped or just made her more uneasy.
“They’re giving us slack,” Gavin said. “Probably watching to make sure we don’t screw it up too badly, maybe meddling a bit behind the scenes.”
Penelope nodded, “This is genuine, coming from us. It’s accepted by them.”
“It’s a load of hooey,” Maggie said.
“How is it hooey?” Joanna asked, the youngest Duchamp present.
“You want to know why I sided with Blake before? Because he’s made wads more sense than a hundred Lairds or Lolas or Patricks have. He’s fudged up, sure, but as I see it, that only makes him more legit. I see people who are ‘normal’, and you know what? I don’t respect them. Either they’re oblivious and useless to me, or they’re just plain lying. We’re all a little twisted.”
They were staring at her.
She hadn’t meant to say all that, but she had, and now she sounded paranoid. There was nowhere to go but forward.
“The abnormal stuff isn’t deep inside Blake. It’s exposed to the world. Everyone with a clue knows why, mostly. Demons and black tomes. Anyone who’s spent more than an hour with him, me included, can figure out most of the rest. He came from a bad family and a bad place in life, and at the end of the day, I think he’s more genuine than any of you.”
The others stared at her, intense, divided between those who seemed like they couldn’t comprehend what she’d just said, and those who thought they understood. And were probably wrong..
“Sorry, but I have to ask. Is this a romantic attachment?” Penelope asked.
Maggie shook her head, “If I had to put my finger on it… he’s like a dog you find by the side of the road. Scruffy, quirky, you know it’s got a story. It’s nice enough, plays fair, and I’m not about to let a bunch of idiots say it’s dangerous when they don’t know.”
“I sort of know,” Penelope said. “He hurt my sister’s familiar.”
“You think the scruffy dog isn’t going to bite back when threatened? No, you’re not being fair. That dog had no dratting choice in what happened to it, and I respect it for not being worse than it is. I’ve seen stuff too, and, well, that so-called dog has every right to hate me, and it was darn fair. But even if I respect it and don’t mind its company, there’s no frigging way I’m taking the pretend dog home with me, you get what I’m saying? I’m talking about a whole bundle of issues. Fleas, dirt, bad habits, I dunno.”
“Yeah,” Joanna said. “He could have been meaner, when he beat Letita. He scared me though. Him and the woman he was with.”
“He’s allowed to be scary,” Maggie said.
“Then I take it you’re going to side with your metaphorical dog over us?” Gavin asked.
Maggie drew in a deep breath, then exhaled. “Write up a contract. If it’s everything you’re presenting it as, no tricks or anything that I can see, and you guys sign, I’ll sign too.”
“After saying all that?” Penelope asked.
“He’s in trouble like you said? I’m not interested in sticking my hand into the middle of a dogfight. I’m not interested in acting against him, either, but I’m not under any rules or oaths that say I have to help him. You guys studied me, you figured me out. What I want above all else is power, knowledge. I’ll take what you’re offering, if it’s legit.”
“It is,” Gavin said.
“Then yeah,” Maggie said. “Is that everything? We done?”
“For the purposes of this meeting? Think so,” Lola said.
Maggie gave the group a bit of a salute. “Run it by me when you’re done.”
“Will probably be a few days,” Gavin said.
Maggie shrugged. “You know where to find me.”
She grabbed the chain that bound the goblin, then dragged the struggling creature in the snow behind her as she made her way off the school grounds.
Patrick fell into step beside her. Evonne and Keller weren’t around.
His skin stripped away like autumn leaves in a strong wind, revealing a face beneath.
This was the face she thought of as Padraic. Leader of the local trio of exiled faerie.
A teenager’s face, decidedly Faerie with a slant to his features and ears, wild dark hair, and a sly, almost condescending half-smile perpetually on his face. There was an art to it all that was pure design, raw nurture, with no nature in play.
This was the face he wore for her. Every part of him promised a subtle sort of danger, and even now, Maggie couldn’t tell if it was the sort of danger someone experienced while skydiving, controlled, measured, or if it was the sort of danger one experienced when they leapt out of an airplane without a parachute.
She wasn’t sure which idea appealed more. The former was tantalizing, the latter offered a kind of freedom.
They walked together in near-silence for twenty minutes or so.
She was halfway through a thought about how long the silence would go on before it was awkward when he spoke. That simple fact sent a thrill of fear through her.