And how much was a stranger’s oath worth? Tiberius would not presume to guess at this time. He sent the chunk of ice in his drink bobbing with his finger, then cleaned his hands on the linen napkin by his plate.
“Only a little like you, as I said. Fear is, I think, quite an unnatural feeling for Despair to experience.” Despair being a philosophical neighbor of sloth, an utter absence of hope. It was not the sort of demon to tempt one to dizzying emotional highs like rage or pride, terror or desire. His mind found its way to those unaided – but Despair was always there to ambush him in the gray valleys between.
“When it feels … Unlike itself, that’s when I try to pay attention.” Tiberius drew a few coins from his inner jacket, setting them down by his coffee cup in a tidy little stack. Enough to cover both their food and drinks, plus a gratuity that was utterly unexceptional in either direction. All the better to not be remembered by.
“As you like.” His lips curved into a wry smile, wondering why he was being slighted now. Little demon and all that. Perhaps only that he’d turned down the price she’d wanted to pay – perhaps not work at all for her? – and asked for a different coin altogether. “Stay close.”
Tiberius led her out of the Second Veil and into the quiet night. They entered an alley and he motioned for her to come close enough to touch before drawing a cloak of invisibility around them both. Some blocks later he found the place he was looking for: Picatrix, a bookshop full of grimoires owned by one of Umbra’s client families. Empty at this hour, the wards opening at his touch.
He knew there to be a comfortable reading room in the back, and let himself in.
“Now, what of my adventures? I can’t imagine they would be of much use to your search.”
“Only a little like you, as I said. Fear is, I think, quite an unnatural feeling for Despair to experience.” Despair being a philosophical neighbor of sloth, an utter absence of hope. It was not the sort of demon to tempt one to dizzying emotional highs like rage or pride, terror or desire. His mind found its way to those unaided – but Despair was always there to ambush him in the gray valleys between.
“When it feels … Unlike itself, that’s when I try to pay attention.” Tiberius drew a few coins from his inner jacket, setting them down by his coffee cup in a tidy little stack. Enough to cover both their food and drinks, plus a gratuity that was utterly unexceptional in either direction. All the better to not be remembered by.
“As you like.” His lips curved into a wry smile, wondering why he was being slighted now. Little demon and all that. Perhaps only that he’d turned down the price she’d wanted to pay – perhaps not work at all for her? – and asked for a different coin altogether. “Stay close.”
Tiberius led her out of the Second Veil and into the quiet night. They entered an alley and he motioned for her to come close enough to touch before drawing a cloak of invisibility around them both. Some blocks later he found the place he was looking for: Picatrix, a bookshop full of grimoires owned by one of Umbra’s client families. Empty at this hour, the wards opening at his touch.
He knew there to be a comfortable reading room in the back, and let himself in.
“Now, what of my adventures? I can’t imagine they would be of much use to your search.”
05-03-2024, 05:53 PM
