Page 39 of Quiver of Cobras
I stared at him then at my hands. They didn’t look capable of such a violent action. ‘I couldn’t have,’ I said. I pointed to my biceps. ‘I barely have the strength to pull myself up a wall. I certainly couldn’t swing a sword with enough lethal force to slice off a head.’
The image of Charrie’s decapitated body lying by the eighteenth hole not too far away from here flashed into my mind. It couldn’t be true, I decided. The dragon was lying.
Mendax wrinkled his nose derisively. ‘If you’re not going to be honest, this conversation is completely pointless.’
‘I’m being as honest as I can be!’ I protested. ‘As I’ve already told you, I’ve got amnesia. I can’t remember what happened but I really don’t think I could have killed anyone.’
Mendax shot a look at Morgan. ‘Am I honestly supposed to believe that she can’t remember anything? How stupid do you lot think I am?’
‘Well, so far,’ I drawled, ‘your intelligence matches that of a free condom machine in a nunnery.’
The dragon got to his feet. ‘I don’t have to put up with this. I’m leaving.’
Morgan put a warning hand on my arm. ‘She’ll stay quiet from now on.’ He squeezed my arm. ‘Won’t you, Madrona?’
‘No,’ I snapped. Then I looked at the pale determination on Mendax’s thin face. ‘Fine, I’ll keep my mouth closed. It’s not my fault that he’s afraid of strong women, though,’ I muttered.
Mendax lifted his chin. ‘I’m not afraid of strong women but Iamafraid of anyone who can cold-bloodedly kill another living being.’
I kept my mouth resolutely shut but only because I’d promised to do so, not because I didn’t have a come back. I folded my arms and leaned back. Mendax took his seat again.
‘I wasn’t lying before,’ he said. ‘I don’t have the video file with me. I came here and took it and it’s now in a safe place, far away from here. I only came back to keep an eye out because I had an inkling that you might return.’ He reached into the inside pocket of his coat and drew out a smartphone. ‘But I do have proof of what she’s done.’ He raised an eyebrow at Morgan. ‘If you’ll permit me?’
Morgan nodded sharply. The dragon smiled and thumbed the phone for a moment before his expression cleared and he turned it round so we could see the screen. When I realised what it showed, my stomach turned.
It was dark. It was obviously a CCTV still and the quality wasn’t perfect but there was no doubt as to who the figure on the screen was. It was definitely me. I was holding aloft some kind of sword and looking down at the crumpled heap of a body at my feet. My face was in profile but, from this angle, it looked as if I were snarling. My shoulders sagged. There it was, in glorious technicolour.
I really was a killer after all.
We all stared at it for a long moment. I considered pointing out that it could have been altered or manipulated and the sword could have been photo-shopped in but the smug look on Mendax’s face gave truth to the image. It was me – and it was a real picture.
There was an unpleasant taste in the back of my mouth. I could really do with a glass of water. Scanning round, I spotted a water cooler in the corner. Without saying a word, I got up to my feet and shuffled over.
Morgan cleared his throat but, when he started talking again, his voice remained low. ‘So you were following Madrona because you thought she might lead you to the sphere. She doesn’t have it, though. We can assume that Rubus doesn’t either or he would have used it by now. Perhaps the thing is lost.’
Mendax’s eyes narrowed. I took a sip of water and watched him. There was something about the guy – I couldn’t put my finger on it but he made me feel very uneasy. Maybe it was because he’d called me out as a murderer. I supposed that would do it.
Morgan continued. ‘If you did happen to find it, what exactly would you do with it?’
Mendax tutted as if the answer were glaringly obvious. ‘I’d destroy it, of course.’
‘How?’ Neither Morgan’s expression nor his voice had altered in the slightest but I knew he was on tenterhooks. We all were.
‘It was created with dragon magic,’ the old man said, with an imperious toss of his head. ‘I’ll simply use dragon magic to obliterate it.’
Finn, with more rationality than I’d previous believed him capable of, leaned forward. ‘Why didn’t your old buddy Chen destroy it then?’
‘Because it was his,’ Mendax replied simply. ‘We’re dragons. We’re hoarders by nature and we certainly don’t destroy that which is ours. Chen would have been as incapable of getting rid of the sphere he created as you would be of forgetting about your homeland.’
‘But if he bequeathed it to you it belongs to you,’ Finn argued. ‘The cycle starts all over again.’
‘He bequeathed it to me in order to destroy it, not to keep it. Those are entirely different things. I do not possess the right to keep the sphere, only the right to remove it from existence.’ Mendax arched an eyebrow. ‘What would you do if you found it?’ There was a glint in his black eyes that suggested he knew that Morgan was lying about not having it.
‘The same thing,’ Morgan answered. ‘We would also destroy it.’
‘You’re not a dragon,’ Mendax dismissed. ‘You don’t have the capabilities. Sooner or later the temptation will grow too strong and you’ll use it to return to your own demesne. I have heard tales of your homesickness. You won’t be able to keep those pangs at bay forever. The sphere will call to you – and you will answer.’
‘That wouldn’t happen.’
