Nezzar

Part Two: A Message From Egypt

"These are fine pieces. You should have them displayed downstairs."

Instead of giving Algodon an answer, Abaddon simply stared. And he planned to do just that until the angel stated the reason for his sudden visit.

"Ah," Algodon walked to another shelf and bent to observe a marble butterfly. "You infused colours." He lifted it, shifting it this way and that under a shaft of sunlight. "At least gift this to a human. Perhaps a child." Algodon gave him an expectant look. When Abaddon did nothing but stare, he sighed.

"The brightness of your personality blinds me." Settling into a chair, he tossed a small scroll Abaddon's way.

Catching it sharply, Abaddon read its content. "What is this?" His annoyance rose sharply. "I am also expected to give Nebuchadnezzar an audience?"

"Curb your annoyance. Did you not give him an audience when he was an infant? Now should be no different," Algodon said with an easy smile.

"Fine. What else?"

Algodon's expression suddenly grew serious as he leaned forward. "Something has happened to Ziba."

"Oh." Abaddon was calm, even calmer than when Algodon had made a sudden appearance. He forced his mind to be still—the assignment. The assignment was much more important. Ziba's well-being was secondary. "What happened to her?"

"Your eyes are smoking." Algodon observed him warily. "I think you should calm down."

"I am calm!" A nearby vase shattered. "I am calm," Abaddon repeated in a low voice after a long silence. Perhaps he should be thankful for the band around his wrist. This filial emotion he had developed toward Ziba was a sickness he should have since healed himself of but he had been hesitant and now it has become his only weakness. Another sad reality was that he was more concerned about Ziba than the assignment. But his concern was useless. His kind of existence made it that assignments took priority and he feared that the same pursuit of duty must have led to whatever happened to Ziba.

"You are not calm." Algodon eyed the spot where the vase had been.

Abaddon unclenched his fists. "Is she damned?"

"I do not have that information."

"Then why did you bring her up."

"You will get answers about why I brought her up when you give the king an audience." As Algodon stood, he still observed Abaddon with concern in his eyes. "Do not do anything too... showy when you meet Nebuchadnezzar."

"I have no need for your pointers," Abaddon said with a bite. He needed to be alone. Useless rage and frustration were a bottled storm within him. Absolute calmness was necessary for this meeting with Nebuchadnezzar.

"Can I have this?" Algodon lifted the marble butterfly he had previously admired. "I met a bright child in these streets earlier. This gift will make her smile."

"Do as you please,"

Grinning happily, Algodon tucked the butterfly in his sleeve. "You are most generous. Many thanks." He vanished in a wink of white light.

In silence, Abaddon sat and contemplated multiple lines of action. Try as he may, he could not see a single angle that would give him a chance to go seek out Ziba. The war with Egypt was close. She should be with him, chattering about foolish things and filling the silence. But here he was, sitting in silence and wondering just how deep Ziba had sunk.

Abaddon blinked down at the scroll in his hand. Was this dread he felt? At least an answer concerning Ziba existed in the coming meeting. Even though he loathed the thought of appearing before the mortal king, Abaddon waited. And as the scroll had specified, just before sunset, there was a knock on his door.