Two enormous limbs reached down with a precision that seemed incompatible with their size. Vehm disappeared upward.
“Ah.”
The indrel lifted him against the front of its robed body as though he weighed approximately as much as a folded coat.
Vehm blinked, then looked around.
His expression brightened.
“Oh, I like zhis.”
Kimia stared.
Vehm was now several feet higher than usual, held securely enough that he could look over most of the restaurant.
He straightened his hat.
“I can see everyzhing.”
“Enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Zhis is what.. zhose indrel.. or baxxids.. or humans feel like.”
“No.”
“Close enough.”
One of the guards turned his face away. Kimia could tell he was smiling.
Vehm extended one hand regally toward the room.
“Citizens.”
“Don't.”
Ghi’cha removed his pipe.
Vehm saw him.
The artificial eye faced directly toward them.
Vehm withdrew his hand.
“Good night, Patriarch.”
Ghi’cha raised the pipe in acknowledgment. It was impossible to tell if he was amused or simply tired of Vehm.
They left without ceremony.
Outside, the air had cooled enough to feel almost kind.
The motorized carriage waited by the curb beneath a streetlamp. Its driver opened the rear door and then had to reconsider the geometry when he saw the indrel carrying Vehm.
The indrel solved the matter itself.
Vehm was deposited onto the rear seat. He spread out immediately.
Kimia entered opposite him.
The guards took their positions.
The indrel folded itself into the rear seat, sitting next to Vehm.
The motorized carriage pulled away.
Vehm lasted perhaps six blocks before closing his eyes.
Kimia watched him.
His head rested against the back of the seat, hat over his face. One hand remained open upon his lap.
He looked younger asleep, or perhaps simply less defended.
The thought of the fifteen thousand dalasi returned.
Kimia could pay it tomorrow.
She could write one cheque.
Several.
She could ask Trokhym to identify every creditor without Vehm ever knowing.
No.
That would be monstrous. Efficient, but still monstrous.
She looked out the window.
The city passed.
Streetlights. Late shops. Restaurants. A televox repairman closing shutters. Two people arguing beside a parked vehicle. A yinglet woman standing outside a bakery, holding a child who was asleep against the side of her neck.
Everything normal.
The world had not ended while Kimia ate soup.
This seemed vaguely offensive.
At the palace, Vehm required transport again.
The indrel lifted him.
Vehm stirred.
“Are we home?”
“Yes.”
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
“Ah.”
His eyes closed again.
Kimia told one of the guards where Vehm’s rooms were.
The human knew.
Of course he did.
Between the guard and the indrel, Vehm was carried away toward sleep and whatever punishment the morning intended.
Kimia stood in the foyer.
One guard remained with her. The other followed Vehm.
The palace had gone quiet, not silent.
Large buildings never became silent.
Pipes. Distant doors. Servants moving somewhere out of sight. The old electrical system humming behind walls.
Kimia felt the scale of the place again.
The palace offered everything.
Food. Liquor. Privacy. Company. Drugs. History. Rooms in which to collapse unseen.
For several seconds, she experienced the familiar danger of possibility, then discovered that she did not want anything badly enough to act.
The demons had eaten.
Not gone.
Satisfied. For now.
Kimia dismissed the remaining human guard with a nod.
The man hesitated.
“Your Grace?”
“I’m inside zhe palace.”
“Yes.”
“Go.”
He bowed slightly.
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
Kimia began climbing the main stairs.
Slowly.
No negotiation this time.
The stone steps were only stone.
Halfway along the upper corridor she saw an open door.
Light spilled across the floor. Music came from within.
Not a finished piece. A sequence.
Several notes. Stop. The same notes again, then a different one inserted between them. Stop.
Kimia slowed.
Yira.
She approached quietly.
The door stood open far enough that looking inside did not feel entirely like trespass.
Her daughter sat before an orphica near the window.