something. « I changed my voice to her pitch and tried to affect a Polish accent. » Go slay the German hexen for me, Druid, and while you’re at it, take care of those bothersome Bacchants and win one for Orpheus. «
Malina glared at me. » Was that supposed to be an imitation of my accent? It sounded like a Russian trying to imitate Bela Lugosi and failing miserably. My accent is far more sophisticated and dignified. «
» My imitation of your accent is not the issue. «
» Well, I’m making it one. And, besides, you offered to help avenge Waclawa. «
» And so I will. But what does your coven plan to do to fight the hexen ? « I asked. Malina deflated, considered her bottle, then thought better of drinking any more and sighed heavily, throwing her head back on the couch. The movement flung her hair about her head like a yellow whorl of silk, coming to rest on the black leather cushion like a halo. She had the power to enchant her hair so that it made men give her whatever she asked for, but I was beginning to think she hardly needed to use magic on it. The white column of her neck beckoned, and my eyes followed the arrowhead formed by the hollow of her throat and her collarbones, downward to linger on her— baseball . Focus, Atticus! Any kind of liaison with Malina would not end happily.
» We have to find them first, « she said, » which is the point of tonight’s divination. » Once we know where they are, we can fight back from here. Nothing so dramatic as eight simultaneous hexes, but we will pick off one here and one there until you are ready to confront them directly. I will keep you informed. And when the Bacchants get here—most likely tomorrow night—I’ll let you know where they are as well. «
» Then I suppose there is nothing left to discuss except whatever you have of mine that you really shouldn’t. «
» Ah, yes. « Malina pushed herself up from the couch and put her wine bottle on the coffee table, weaving a bit on her boot heels. She gathered her hair and tied it back in a knot, talking affably to me as she led me to a bedroom currently doing service as a witch supply closet. » I do hope we’ll get around to signing the nonaggression treaty soon, Mr. O’Sullivan, for despite your uncomfortable questioning when you arrived and your barbaric insistence on walking around with your sword hanging out, I feel we can live and work together peaceably going forward and even prosper, once these current troubles are behind us. «
That wasn’t English she was speaking: It was the language of diplomacy. » I have no objections to peace and prosperity, « I allowed.
Malina’s witch closet, in contrast to the décor of her living area, was painted a pale moss green and lined with cedar shelves sporting rows of glass bottles. I tried to find one with something unspeakable in it—a human brain or deer lips or otter balls—but saw nothing but herbs, oils, philtres, and a curious collection of claws from big cats. She had claws from tigers, snow leopards, lions, and black jaguars, as well as cheetahs, cougars, and bobcats. She also had beaks from several birds of prey, but otherwise her supplies were entirely plant-based.
In the center of the room was a wooden worktable bought from IKEA’s kitchen department. It supported the obligatory mortar and pestle, a knife for chopping, a peeler for tubers, and an electric hot plate she had plugged in via extension cord. I was vaguely disappointed to see she had a regular saucepan resting on the hot plate rather than a black iron cauldron—and even more disappointed that there wasn’t a hapless amphibian in there. A smaller copy of the large painting in the living room hung opposite the worktable; the three Zoryas watched from the walls, waiting to bestow their blessings on Malina’s work.
» Who supplies your herbs? « I asked. » I could probably be of assistance if you’re having trouble finding something of sufficient quality and freshness. «
»
Malina glared at me. » Was that supposed to be an imitation of my accent? It sounded like a Russian trying to imitate Bela Lugosi and failing miserably. My accent is far more sophisticated and dignified. «
» My imitation of your accent is not the issue. «
» Well, I’m making it one. And, besides, you offered to help avenge Waclawa. «
» And so I will. But what does your coven plan to do to fight the hexen ? « I asked. Malina deflated, considered her bottle, then thought better of drinking any more and sighed heavily, throwing her head back on the couch. The movement flung her hair about her head like a yellow whorl of silk, coming to rest on the black leather cushion like a halo. She had the power to enchant her hair so that it made men give her whatever she asked for, but I was beginning to think she hardly needed to use magic on it. The white column of her neck beckoned, and my eyes followed the arrowhead formed by the hollow of her throat and her collarbones, downward to linger on her— baseball . Focus, Atticus! Any kind of liaison with Malina would not end happily.
» We have to find them first, « she said, » which is the point of tonight’s divination. » Once we know where they are, we can fight back from here. Nothing so dramatic as eight simultaneous hexes, but we will pick off one here and one there until you are ready to confront them directly. I will keep you informed. And when the Bacchants get here—most likely tomorrow night—I’ll let you know where they are as well. «
» Then I suppose there is nothing left to discuss except whatever you have of mine that you really shouldn’t. «
» Ah, yes. « Malina pushed herself up from the couch and put her wine bottle on the coffee table, weaving a bit on her boot heels. She gathered her hair and tied it back in a knot, talking affably to me as she led me to a bedroom currently doing service as a witch supply closet. » I do hope we’ll get around to signing the nonaggression treaty soon, Mr. O’Sullivan, for despite your uncomfortable questioning when you arrived and your barbaric insistence on walking around with your sword hanging out, I feel we can live and work together peaceably going forward and even prosper, once these current troubles are behind us. «
That wasn’t English she was speaking: It was the language of diplomacy. » I have no objections to peace and prosperity, « I allowed.
Malina’s witch closet, in contrast to the décor of her living area, was painted a pale moss green and lined with cedar shelves sporting rows of glass bottles. I tried to find one with something unspeakable in it—a human brain or deer lips or otter balls—but saw nothing but herbs, oils, philtres, and a curious collection of claws from big cats. She had claws from tigers, snow leopards, lions, and black jaguars, as well as cheetahs, cougars, and bobcats. She also had beaks from several birds of prey, but otherwise her supplies were entirely plant-based.
In the center of the room was a wooden worktable bought from IKEA’s kitchen department. It supported the obligatory mortar and pestle, a knife for chopping, a peeler for tubers, and an electric hot plate she had plugged in via extension cord. I was vaguely disappointed to see she had a regular saucepan resting on the hot plate rather than a black iron cauldron—and even more disappointed that there wasn’t a hapless amphibian in there. A smaller copy of the large painting in the living room hung opposite the worktable; the three Zoryas watched from the walls, waiting to bestow their blessings on Malina’s work.
» Who supplies your herbs? « I asked. » I could probably be of assistance if you’re having trouble finding something of sufficient quality and freshness. «
»
Similar Books
