The Rising - Ennead 2

Scene 11.5 - Hunting for a Spider

Too Sure was totally sure that someone owed him some pretty serious compensation. His two guests had led him to the very pit of hell.

They had paid no mind to stress of traffic or his personal feelings on the matter. If there was anything that deserved a blue cloak more than writing a thesis, this would have been it: Facing his aunt.

Let's be honest, it probably wasn't so bad, at least this time around he wasn't alone, and no one paid him any mind. It was to be expected. He was, after all, a glorified porter.

Oh, but how Elizabeth Annan had fussed. It was as if her posh, well appointed office wasn't good enough for the royalty that was passing through. Trip Astor was worth more in her eyes than her stupid, precious corgi.

The aunt's stilted, so-called Oxford accent rang with finality as she steered her guests away from small talk. She peered over her pince-nez, eyes hard as she stated, "Enough of this. I'm already exhausted. What are you really here for?"

The Chechnyan had a smile like his face had been split with a particularly fine blade. It marred his face as he purred, "Blunt. I like that darling."

No one ever called the aunt darling.

She ignored the deflection and continued to stare at the two men until finally the Chechnyan glanced at Kwame then back to the aunt. His meaning was clear.

She waved her hand, unbothered, "He can keep a secret. A fair lack of intelligence does not seem to affect discretion."

"Now," she drilled, "speak."

The chechnyan's scowl was half again as handsome as his smile. It was clear that he was not accustomed to being ordered around by someone without higher rank. His voice, however, was still treacle as he responded, "We're here on a mission appointed by the Lord First himself."

He paused to let that sink in as he matched her level stare. Flint grey eyes waited on her to be moved, impressed by the import of his statement.

The matriarch wasn't moved.

The messenger continued, "We're on a search for The Spider."

Again he paused. Once again, she gave no real reaction, simply a murmur, "I see."

I don't fault the Chechnyan for emitting an almost silent sigh. The woman was as formidable as her reputation warranted.

"The Cabal is not interested in encouraging this idea of a seventh society. Even though the proposition has been raised by The Six, it has not been ratified by synod. We are not yet bound to act as if it is law."

The aunty took as sip from her bone china tea cup. She didn't speak a word. She simply arched a brow as if to say, "On with it. I don't have all day."

The other guest cut in to lend his voice. "My family is glad to aid The Lord First. It is always good to have an eye on the movement of Magi."

Her reply wasn't as blunt as it was with her fellow Summoner. "It's delightful to be reminded of who we have in our court. I'm curious though, why you? You don't provide any security we cannot provide ourselves and you're definitely not a Tweaker last I..."

She caught her breath when he laid something on the desk. Kwame leaned in closer to get a glimpse and to be truthful to himself, the thing did look imposing.

It seemed like an old pocket watch, its body intricately carved and embossed upon with a coat of arms. The purity of it's metallic tone suggested puregold. Attached to its body was a long, heavy puregold chain, each link engraved with a floral design.