Page 2 of Skullduggery
‘Good. Busy.’ He twitched awkwardly. ‘How have you been?’
‘Much the same.’
There were a few beats of silence, then Gordon dropped his eyes. ‘I’m not very good at small talk either,’ he admitted.
‘To be fair, neither of us is a glittering raconteur at the moment.’
‘I’m not surprised. You don’t look very well, Daisy,’ he said, then winced. ‘I apologise. I didn’t mean to be rude.’
I patted his arm. ‘You’re not being rude, Gordon, just honest. Never apologise for that. I’m tired. I’ve been training with Hugo and the Primes for the last month and a half and it’s hard.’ I swallowed. ‘Really hard.’
Then I flexed my biceps. ‘But look! I’ve got more muscles. I can swing my sword with greater control and I can empty my mind of thoughts for a whole nine minutes while I meditate. It’s progress. Of sorts.’ I shrugged then immediately regretted the action when a wave of pain rippled down my spine.
Wild magic flared deep in my belly, threatening to spring out from my fingertips. I hastily tamped it down; boring or not, the last thing this soirée needed was for me to set the room on fire because my magic was out of control.
Gordon understood what had nearly happened and he reached towards me. At least he didn’t run away screaming. ‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine.’ I swallowed hard. ‘Honest. I’m doing okay. It’s harder to control my powers when I’m tired, but I’ve got this.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Positive.’ I took another sip of champagne and tried to act as if nothing were wrong. Unfortunately, I didn’t fool either of us – especially when the long-stemmed glass trembled in my traitorous hands. ‘Have you seen Sir Nigel?’ I asked. ‘I need to pick his brains about something.’
‘I’m afraid not. I think he’s been delayed in Glasgow.’
Cumbubbling bollocks. My dismay must have shown on my face because Gordon leaned in closer. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
I sighed. ‘Not unless you’re an expert on fiends as well as being a world-renowned sorcerer, and you can tell me what the likelihood is that a fiend would have sired a child and that child would be me, and if that’s true whether I’ll turn evil or die from my spider’s silk addiction before that happens, and if my inability to control my own magic is because I’m at least fifty-percent fiend with the capacity to become a psychopathic murderer with no regard for anyone’s wellbeing other than my own.’ I took a breath.
Gordon stared at me.
I glanced down at my empty glass. ‘I should stop drinking champagne,’ I added. I put the glass down on a nearby table before I inadvertently dropped it and smashed it to smithereens.
He continued to stare at me.
‘I won’t hold it against you if you run away, Gordon,’ I said.
He didn’t move. Maybe my tirade had made him freeze with terror.
Finally, he met my eyes. ‘Fiends are made, Daisy, not born. Yes, they embody evil, but that’s not you. You are not a bad person, and you’re certainly no more likely to become a psychopathic murderer than I am. I can’t speak for the spider’s silk problem because that’s outside my area of expertise, but if Hugo is training you to help you beat your addiction, you’re inthe best possible hands. I don’t know if you’ll die from your addiction, but I do know that you’re a good person and that’s what counts, not who your parents are.’
Now it was my turn to stare. Gordon had spoken with quiet conviction; he wasn’t afraid of me, he didn’t patronise me, and he didn’t tell me everything would be alright. He simply spoke the truth as he saw it, and that meant more than he would ever realise.
‘You know what, Gordon?’ I said softly. ‘You’re a good person too.’
He blushed deeply, fiddled with his cuffs, bowed and started to back away. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’
Exhausted or not, I couldn’t let him off that easily. ‘Wait! You said that you were hoping to bump into me. Is there something I can helpyouwith?’
He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. ‘You’ve got a lot on your plate. Don’t worry.’
I folded my arms. ‘I’m not worried, but I’m here to listen.’ I offered him a mock hard stare. ‘Frankly, Gordon, I could do with the distraction, especially if Sir Nigel isn’t going to show up. You came to our rescue in Wales at New Year. The least I can do is listen to you now. What’s going on?’
He started to gnaw his bottom lip, then cast a glance first over his right shoulder then over his left before shuffling closer to me. Despite his nervousness, I couldn’t mistake the flash of hope in his eyes. He really did want my help.
‘You know that I’m looking into the disappearance of Lady Rose Assigney.’ He was talking about the high elf who hadn’t been seen for decades and whose disappearance was often blamed on Hugo’s absent parents.
‘Yep.’
