Friday, September 19, 2008

While the brown girl lay sleeping

I lifted my skirt slightly with a palm to my thigh and headed back down the stairs, to the drawing room of the Library. “I think she's resting now, Grr. What was all that ruckus about?”

Denenthorn stood talking with Grr, wings stiff yet slightly unfurled. “Have I ever told you how hard it is for me to remember songs?” he jokingly asked me. I frowned, confused and turned back to Grr.

“The tosser hothead bolt-faces wanted ta whine that their playhouse went bang after Her Ladyship pulled their asses outta tha fire and gave them tha kiss of life...typical.” The Continuum. The Lady had managed to save them all from dying as the result of a hack, but collateral damage had left their headquarters in ruins.

Denenthorn shrugged. “Don't fret. I'll talk to Fareabell and smooth it all over.”

“That’s good,” Grr replied, then gestured upstairs where the sleeping Nareth lay. “Tha was a real shock, I wondered, maybe, if tha Nareth-Bot got Pinochio'd.”

“Joah,” Denenthorn frowned, “Does that thing upstairs resemble my granddaughter any?”

I sighed. “She’s not a thing, Denenthorn. She’s a woman.”

“You are sure?” Denenthorn met my eyes with a deep question in his.

“Am I sure that she is a woman? Yes. Am I sure that she’s human? Not entirely. But she appears to be…and I'm very tired.”

Denenthorn nodded. “May I meet her when she awakens?”

“I am sure that you can, Denenthorn,” I replied. “Just be careful of the blade.”

“The blade will not come near her,” Denenthorn muttered. “I shall place it off my body.”

Grr sighed, “Both of you…just in case.”

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