Rook

Henderson looked at him, his hands shaking. He took a step toward Alrich and then, showing the first sign of genuine insight all night, elected not to take another.
    “What did you do to the duck?” asked Gestalt in a tense voice.
    “I followed all the traditional procedures,” said Henderson. “I used a purified blade. I invoked all the beneficent elements…”
    “You cut the duck open?” I squeaked.
    “How else does one examine its entrails?” he snapped.
    “How about an MRI?” proposed Eckhart, lighting a cigarette. Henderson shot him a look.
    “The auguries are only revealed in the creature’s death,” said Henderson.
    “Or not, as the case may be,” said Alrich.
    “I can’t understand it,” said Henderson. “Everything was done as prescribed. That is how you take information from waterfowl.”
    “You unbelievable cretin,” said Gestalt. “We’d already verified that the duck could provide accurate answers to spoken questions.”
    “What?” said Henderson weakly.
    “What?” said Wattleman, looking up.
    “I don’t believe this,” said Farrier.
    “Should we kill him?” wondered Eckhart.
    “That might be best,” mused Farrier. “Bishop Alrich?”
    “I just had dinner,” Alrich murmured.
    “We were just thinking about killing him, not draining him,” said Eckhart.
    “And then perhaps we could try reading his entrails?” proposed Grantchester.
    “Now, wait just a moment!” shouted Wattleman. “Clearly, this was a horrendous mistake, but what’s done is done, and we must adapt to these new circumstances.” He spoke firmly, using every shred of authority he could muster. At that moment, he was not a man who had just seen the dream of decades messily and unnecessarily killed in front of him. He was a general. Our leader. It was impressive, I admit, and we all settled back warily. Henderson surreptitiously mopped his brow with the sleeve of his hessian garment.
    “So… not killing him then?” asked Eckhart. I let out a snort of laughter, and everyone looked at me.
    “Sorry,” I said in a small voice.
    “Mr. Henderson,” said Wattleman (I noticed that he’d dropped the “Master”), “has signed all the usual confidentiality declarations. In light of this debacle, we will impose additional restrictions upon him. Rook Thomas, I am certain that you can arrange this.”
    “Yes, Sir Henry,” I said, wincing as he called me Rook. I had no idea how much Henderson knew, but using Checquy titles in front of him could only further prove our strangeness. Beyond our doings with an oracular duck. And our apparent eagerness to kill him.
    Aaaand the guy with the condor on his head who’d just walked by the door to the hallway, which some waiter had left open.
    “Good girl,” said Wattleman, and he proceeded out of the dining room, followed by the rest of the Court.
    It was now up to me to take Henderson up to my office and nod as he signed sufficient forms to ensure that he never spoke about the Checquy, the duck, or anything he’d seen.
    So that was my day. I must admit that although I feel bad for the duck, I also feel pretty bad for myself. Now I know how little time I have left, and there is so much to get done.
    Love,
    Me
     

35
     
    S omeone
here has got to have a fucking aspirin.” Myfanwy groaned. “I mean, I once read that these incident vans are equipped to reconstitute people who have been dissolved by acid.”
    “Well, actually, I don’t think—” began Cyrus, but Myfanwy waved him quiet.
    “I don’t care, I don’t
care!
” said Myfanwy. “I am seeing spots, and if this doesn’t stop, in a few moments
everyone
is going to be seeing spots. Somebody get me an aspirin,
please
.” Various flunkies were dispatched as Myfanwy was ushered to the trailer. The dim sunlight was blinding, and she covered her eyes with her hands and allowed herself to be gently guided by Ingrid and one of the large bodyguards.
    The pain grew greater the closer they approached the police station, and the sensations reminded her of the skinned Belgian in his tank, the effect his warped biology had on her.
Grafter work for sure,
she thought bitterly. However, whereas the encounter in the car had turned her stomach, whatever was in that police station was grinding on her thoughts.
    “Rook Thomas?” came a deep but hesitant voice that reverberated through her skull. The large bodyguard’s hand tightened on her shoulder.
    “Yuh?” she snapped. She peeked through her hands and