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Authors: Sam Cheever
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from here?”
I felt his eyes land on me and watched the furrow develop
between them. I shrank back into the potted palms hoping he would decide I
wasn’t important enough to pester. I wasn’t going to be that lucky.
He rose from the chair and hovered there as he glared at me.
One by one the entire council turned to face me until I felt the enormous
weight of their hostile gaze bearing down on poor little me of the potted
palms. I glanced at Myra and she was glaring at me too, as though she had no
idea how I’d gotten there. I made a mental note to wring her scrawny neck the
next chance I got and stood up to take my medicine. I tried a smile but it was
so false it probably just looked like a passing gas attack.
His-high-and-mightiness raised an arm to point accusingly at
me. “You do not belong here.”
I shrugged and wondered if it would do me any good to be
diplomatic.
Naahhh.
I looked around and shrugged, raising my hands as if I were
helpless to address the problem. “It appears I am here, though….sir.” I
thought the sir part was pretty diplomatic.
“What gives you the right to observe the council? You have
not been given permission.”
I shrugged again. “I didn’t exactly walk in here myself. I
was summoned by someone. Maybe you should yell at somebody else.” I made a very
determined effort not to look at Myra, though I was oh-so tempted.
His highcouncilness finally removed his piercing gaze from my
poor, pierced face and moved it around the room. “Who is responsible for
bringing this mortal here?”
A long silence filled the room. I crossed my arms and tried
to look like a victim. It probably didn’t go over. I don’t do victim very well.
Finally Myra stood up and floated, yes floated, around the
table to stand in front of him. She bowed slightly, though the stiffness in her
shoulders told me it pissed her off to do so. “I brought her here, High
Council.”
The stern countenance of his-high-and-mightiness turned upon
my angel and he skewered her with eyes that had darkened to the color of
pasture dirt under lowered black eyebrows. “By whose command?”
Myra raised her eyes and simply stared at him, elevating her
own eyebrows meaningfully.
His Highness’s features raised and expanded with the shock
of her unspoken statement. “Why would He want her here?”
Myra turned and looked at me, motioning me forward with her
usual disapproving glare. As I joined her in front of the council table she
placed a hand on my arm and looked the High Council directly in the eyes. “She
has been chosen as our interface with the royals.”
I turned to her and my mouth dropped open in shock. Myra
kept her gaze determinedly turned away from me as I stared at her with floppy
fish mouth. I knew my angel too well to think she was pulling my leg on this
one. If Myra said the Big Guy wanted me to work for them, it was true. And I
was in deep, deep, shit, shit, shit.
Chapter Eight
Let Me Out of Here!
And so the damsel’s distress did grow to such uncommon
heights,
She wished to sprout soft wings of fire and in this
way take flight.
Myra turned away from my flapping, panicky profile and
addressed the High Council as if I were not even there. “She has been summoned
by Dialle and commissioned to serve as their interface with Nerul’s Court.
Since she is one of ours, it seems only logical that she would report her
findings to us.”
His cappuccinoness nodded with that same furrow between his
dark brows that had moved in when he’d spotted me in the potted palms. “Yes. It
does seem that Dialle’s court has given us a gift. Do you think it is possible
he does not know of her relationship to us?”
As Myra opened her heavenly lips to respond I finally lost
my temper in a big way. “Excuse me!” I turned to include the entire room in the
scolding I was about to deliver. “Do any of you see the little person with the
long red hair and a pissed off look on her face standing in this very spot?”
I felt his eyes land on me and watched the furrow develop
between them. I shrank back into the potted palms hoping he would decide I
wasn’t important enough to pester. I wasn’t going to be that lucky.
He rose from the chair and hovered there as he glared at me.
One by one the entire council turned to face me until I felt the enormous
weight of their hostile gaze bearing down on poor little me of the potted
palms. I glanced at Myra and she was glaring at me too, as though she had no
idea how I’d gotten there. I made a mental note to wring her scrawny neck the
next chance I got and stood up to take my medicine. I tried a smile but it was
so false it probably just looked like a passing gas attack.
His-high-and-mightiness raised an arm to point accusingly at
me. “You do not belong here.”
I shrugged and wondered if it would do me any good to be
diplomatic.
Naahhh.
I looked around and shrugged, raising my hands as if I were
helpless to address the problem. “It appears I am here, though….sir.” I
thought the sir part was pretty diplomatic.
“What gives you the right to observe the council? You have
not been given permission.”
I shrugged again. “I didn’t exactly walk in here myself. I
was summoned by someone. Maybe you should yell at somebody else.” I made a very
determined effort not to look at Myra, though I was oh-so tempted.
His highcouncilness finally removed his piercing gaze from my
poor, pierced face and moved it around the room. “Who is responsible for
bringing this mortal here?”
A long silence filled the room. I crossed my arms and tried
to look like a victim. It probably didn’t go over. I don’t do victim very well.
Finally Myra stood up and floated, yes floated, around the
table to stand in front of him. She bowed slightly, though the stiffness in her
shoulders told me it pissed her off to do so. “I brought her here, High
Council.”
The stern countenance of his-high-and-mightiness turned upon
my angel and he skewered her with eyes that had darkened to the color of
pasture dirt under lowered black eyebrows. “By whose command?”
Myra raised her eyes and simply stared at him, elevating her
own eyebrows meaningfully.
His Highness’s features raised and expanded with the shock
of her unspoken statement. “Why would He want her here?”
Myra turned and looked at me, motioning me forward with her
usual disapproving glare. As I joined her in front of the council table she
placed a hand on my arm and looked the High Council directly in the eyes. “She
has been chosen as our interface with the royals.”
I turned to her and my mouth dropped open in shock. Myra
kept her gaze determinedly turned away from me as I stared at her with floppy
fish mouth. I knew my angel too well to think she was pulling my leg on this
one. If Myra said the Big Guy wanted me to work for them, it was true. And I
was in deep, deep, shit, shit, shit.
Chapter Eight
Let Me Out of Here!
And so the damsel’s distress did grow to such uncommon
heights,
She wished to sprout soft wings of fire and in this
way take flight.
Myra turned away from my flapping, panicky profile and
addressed the High Council as if I were not even there. “She has been summoned
by Dialle and commissioned to serve as their interface with Nerul’s Court.
Since she is one of ours, it seems only logical that she would report her
findings to us.”
His cappuccinoness nodded with that same furrow between his
dark brows that had moved in when he’d spotted me in the potted palms. “Yes. It
does seem that Dialle’s court has given us a gift. Do you think it is possible
he does not know of her relationship to us?”
As Myra opened her heavenly lips to respond I finally lost
my temper in a big way. “Excuse me!” I turned to include the entire room in the
scolding I was about to deliver. “Do any of you see the little person with the
long red hair and a pissed off look on her face standing in this very spot?”
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