Hammered
could go get one at Starbucks right now.>
Oberon, seriously, I don’t believe there’s any such thing. I was just making a point .
Come on, Oberon, you’re being silly .
The bacon latte?
Oberon, what the fuck? I was about to ask him if he’d heard that on television when Granuaile’s eyes snapped open.
» That was amazing, « she breathed. » It was like … dreaming, these images in my head, except I could control the dream and say what I wanted without using words. «
» That’s a cool way of putting it. What did he say? « I asked.
» He hopes that two Druids will mean twice as many faeries for him. «
I smiled. » That sounds about right. Time to say hello to Sonora. You’ll find him a bit deeper and richer than Ferris. If Ferris is a glass of chocolate milk, Sonora is mousse. «
» Wow. Okay, « Granuaile said. » But I’m going to think of Sonora as female. « She put the iron marble into the pocket of her jeans and picked up the turquoise marble. This time she closed her fist around it confidently and closed her eyes. A small shiver and sharp intake of breath indicated when she’d made contact. She smiled again as she had before.
Right, she’ll be busy talking for a bit , I said to Oberon. Now explain to me how a Double Bacon Five-Cheese Mocha can ever be nonfat .
Yeesh. Your logic should come with a warning label. Where’d you hear that prophecy you spouted?
Oberon’s ears pricked up and he swung his head to the east.
I followed his gaze and saw flashes of a familiar canine form coming toward us through the desert scrub.
Oberon said, his tail wagging. It was indeed. Or one version of him, anyway: This one claimed to represent the Navajo tribe. He trotted nimbly between the teddy bear cholla with his tongue hanging out to one side and yipped a cheerful greeting at us. Before we could answer, he shape-shifted to a Native American man clothed in blue jeans, boots, and a white sleeveless undershirt. His straight black hair fell down his back from underneath a cowboy hat, and he had a tiny smirk on his face.
» Howdy, Mr. Druid, « he said. » You ain’t still mad at me, are ya? « His manner suggested that he really didn’t care if I was mad or not. He was referring to the way he’d tricked me—even threatened me—to secure my aid in attacking a fallen angel from the Fifth Circle of hell. He spoke in a slow, dry rumble tinged with amusement, and I tailored my voice to suit his manner of speech.
» Naw, I’ve mellowed out a good deal in the past few weeks. «
» Figured you would. How’re you, Oberon? « He squatted down on his haunches and beckoned to my hound. Oberon bounded over to him and wagged his tail enthusiastically.
Coyote laughed, able to hear Oberon’s thoughts as clearly as I did. He petted Oberon with both hands, running one hand along his back and massaging his throat with the other. » I’m sorry, Oberon, I didn’t have time to stop without makin’ Mr. Druid wait. Who’s your lady friend? «
» My apprentice, « I explained. » She’s busy talkin’ to Sonora right now. We should prob’ly let ’er have a good gab. Wanna take a short walk? «
» Sure, Mr. Druid, that’d be fine with me. « He rose from his squat and the
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