Page 62 of The Morning Star
“He comes and goes,” Snip replied.
“Yes, but where is he now?” I pressed.
“Not here.”
“Do you know where he is? When he’s due back? Do you have his cell number or some means of contacting him?” I really wanted to hash this out with Gimlet before I met with the angels to strategize our counterattack.
“I don’t know if he has a cell phone or not. Usually if you want him, you just ask around and he either shows up or he doesn’t. It’s no good to chase him down because usually by the time you get to where someone saw him, he’s not there anymore.”
Great. “Can you put the word out that I need to see him immediately? Tell everyone that I’ve got something for him. And then—”
“What?” Snip asked.
I blinked at him a few times. “What, what?”
“What do you have for Gimlet? Might make a difference in whether he shows up. Or whether he shows up this century or not.”
I’d been lying about that, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to make the lie more specific. “What does Gimlet like? What might convince him to hustle his ass here yesterday?”
“Cookies,” Snip answered promptly. “Cookies and milk.”
Okaaaaay. Maybe this wouldn’t be that much of a lie after all. I liked cookies. Of course, I liked mine with a shot of vodka, or a bottle of beer, or at least a cup of coffee, not milk. “What kind of cookies?”
“Oatmeal raisin.”
What kind of sick fuck was this guy? “Not chocolate chip? Because sometimes those raisins look like chocolate chips, then you get a nasty shock when you bite into them.”
“Oatmeal raisin,” Snip repeated. “Occasionally apple spice, but only with chunks of apple in them, not that artificial flavoring stuff. And it has to be whole milk, not skim or two percent, because demons don’t need to be on no fucking diet.”
I got the impression that last was a direct quote from the other Low. Damn. Why couldn’t the guy like chocolate chip, or at the very least Oreos? Now I’d need to run by the store. At least I had the milk, mainly because Gregory liked to put a fucking gallon of it in his coffee, and he too liked the full-fat version.
“Then spread the word that I’ve got oatmeal raisin cookies and whole milk for Gimlet if he shows up. And he better hurry unless he likes stale cookies.”
“Got it.” Snip saluted.
“Also, get a message to Tasma, Zalanes, Orias, Malphas, and Harkel and let them know that I need their households ready for battle. Oh, and Terrelle, Cheros, and Nils as well. This is a moment’s notice thing. I call, and they need to transport themselves to the location I provide, whether by teleportation, elf button, gateway, or a fucking Uber, I don’t care. I call and they might have ten minutes to be there. If they refuse to show up, I’ll consider that a direct rebellion. Those who refuse to follow my directives will have their households confiscated and might end up dead or in my dungeon depending on my mood at the time.” It was time to get serious. I was going up against thirty thousand demons and a bunch of Ancients. I wasn’t going to show up to the battle empty handed.
“Got it.”
“Contact Kirby in Libertytown, and Gareth in Dis and let them know that I need wands, staffs, amulets, and anything else they have ready to go. Offensive, defensive, even random crap.”
Snip shot me a worried frown. “Did you pay them for the last time? Because they might not—”
“Tell them I’ll pay them.” Later. Much later. But I would eventually pay them. Maybe. “These weapons go to all the Lows. I don’t want you guys going into this at a disadvantage.”
“We appreciate that, Mistress. May I suggest that we keep these interesting items under lock and key until the actual battle?”
Good idea, otherwise I’d find my pasture full of fireball holes and the guest house reduced to rubble. And half my household dead from “hey, watch this” accidents.
“Yes, keep everything in the main house here. Don’t let anyone know I’ve got this stuff either, just in case they’re overcome with curiosity.”
“Will do! But about the monies…the mages are not going to give us their weapons inventories again without some sort of payment. What will we give the mages for their inventories? Future favors? Coin?”
“My eternal gratitude.” Snip gave me a long look, and I grinned. “What? That isn’t enough? Okay, explain to them that if we lose this battle, they might find themselves surrounded by demons and elves once more—really bored and pissed-off demons and elves. There will be no business dealings with Harper. There will be no more Peapod deliveries. This world will be dead. All the humans here will be dead. But if we win, this will open up a huge new world of trade and commerce to them, as well as travel opportunities. Sell it, Snip. Sell it like you’re going door-to-door lugging a bunch of vacuums and replacement windows.”
“Got it.”
Snip left for the gate in Columbia, and I took a few minutes to visit with my kid before I handed him back off to Nyalla and went on my own errand to Hel. While my main-man Low was headed off to gather my allies, I went to a little house in the middle of the Maugan Swamp, where an elderly dwarf woman was sitting on the front porch, peeling vegetables and tossing them into a pot of water.
