Chapter 53: What Are Friends For
In Which Strephon gets the silent treatment and Lord Melchior gets put in his place.
Dusk was gathering like a shroud over the city as Tobias threaded his cab through the busy downtown traffic. Occasionally they would pull out of the shadow of a building into a blaze of the setting sun, but with every block the patches of daylight became briefer and the stretches of twilight deeper. The encroaching night seemed to make the silence in the cab feel even heavier. Tobias had not spoken a word since they had left Strephon's house. He'd even shut off his radio. Only the noise of the traffic outside intruded in the judgmental quiet.
“I had no choice,” Strephon said.
Tobias grunted. It was neither an agreement nor a rebuke; merely an acknowledgment that Strephon had said something. But that in itself felt like a rebuke.
“It was for her own protection,” Strephon insisted. “She'll be much safer at the house.”
Tobias grunted again.
“Why can't she see that? You can see that, can't you?”
Tobias responded this time. “I ain't the one you have to convince.”
Strephon shut up for a block or two, his ears burning. Yes, he should have tried harder to convince Cassandra to stay rather than bespelling her as he did. But that wasn't what Tobias meant.
I'm trying to persuade myself.
Strephon brooded on that for a half a block more. It took him that long to swallow his pride. “It was wrong of me to put Cassandra under that spell,” he said. “It was cowardly, and ungentlemanly, and... and... it was wrong. There. Is that what you wanted me to say?”
Tobias adjusted his rear-view mirror, but did not meet Strephon's gaze. “Ain't my place to say,” he said.
Strephon's pride came up again. “Not your place?” he snapped. Don't get all feudal with me, Tobias. This is the Twentieth--” He caught himself, then continued, “-- the Twenty-First Century. And when have you ever refrained from an opportunity to give me advice?” He was ranting. Ranting never helped anything. He took a deep breath. “I know it's presumptuous of me to say so, but I have always thought of you... well... as a friend.” He averted his gaze so as not to catch Tobias's glance in the mirror. “I don't have that many any more. Most of the ones I knew died long ago.”
When Tobias replied, his voice had lost its brusque tone. “You've got friends. Maybe more friends than you know. Your cousin, Devon, he's a friend, ain't he?”
“Oh, him. He's family. He doesn't count. Besides, we despise each other.”
“That may be, but I'll bet if you needed help and if you asked, he'd give it to you. And I dare say you'd do the same for him.”
“Perhaps.”
“And Vicar Palmer and his wife; ain't they your friends?”
“Yes, I suppose.”
“And Gran. I don't think there's a single member of my family that doesn't think of you as a favorite uncle. A favorite eccentric uncle. Oh, but I forgot: family don't count.”
Strephon crossed his arms and tried not to sound petulant. “You've made your point.”
They had come to the turn-off to the Castle Redemption parking area. Tobias pulled up to the curb in a drop-off zone in front of the Castle's side entrance. “Then there's Miss Cassandra,” he said as he put the cab in park. “She a friend too, if she's not something better.” Strephon reddened at that. And to drive the point home, Tobias added: “That is, if she's still talkin' to you after tonight.”
“Oh, all right,” Strephon grumbled. “You've made your point. Take me home. I'll wake Cassandra and bring her to the meeting. We'll face the danger together.”
But something else had caught Tobias's attention. “It might be too late for that,” he said. “It's like we cabbies say, you can change your mind at any time, but once you arrive at your destination, you gotta pay the fare.”
“What the devil is that supposed to mean?”
“It means we got company.” He nodded towards the side window.
Strephon looked out and was greeted by Melchior's insincere smile. “Bellman!” Melchior said. “So glad you made it!” Melchior had traded his Italian suit and power tie for a more Tudoresque doublet and hose, resplendent with fancy trim and an ostentatious codpiece, appropriate for a Faerie Lord. Inanna stood behind him – or hovered, rather; she had a pair of dragonfly wings extended, which vanished when she lit upon the sidewalk – similarly dressed as a noblewoman of only slightly lower rank than he.
Strephon was trapped. Now that Melchior had seen him arrive, he couldn't very well turn around and leave. Apart from being rude, it would tip his hand and raise Melchior's suspicions. In a low voice, Strephon said, “Go back to my home, Tobias, get Cassandra and bring her here. Sling her over your shoulder if you must.”
“Let me get the door for you,” Melchior said. “Inanna will help you with your chair.”
Before Strephon could protest, Tobias leaped out of the cab. “That won't be necessary,” he said, going around to the boot. “I can manage. All part of the service.” He unfolded Strephon's wheelchair with a snap and held it steady so that Strephon could lift himself from the cab to the chair with professional precision and efficiency. Despite the tenseness of the situation, Strephon could not help but be amused by Tobias's showing off.
“Be sure and save a seat for me, Mister Strephon. I'll be following along just as soon as I find a place to park.”
Melchior favored Tobias with a condescending chuckle. “I don't think your friend understands, Strephon, that the event we are attending is a private one.”
Tobias's grin never left his face, but it did take on a hint of steel. He slowly straightened to his full height. Melchior's human guise was by no means small, but Tobias was at least an inch or two taller and broad in his shoulders. The cabbie loomed over him like the Castle keep behind him. Strephon saw a struggle on Melchior's face as the Faerie Lord considered making himself taller still so that he would not be obliged to look up at Tobias; but that would have only made him look petty and foolish
“I'm sure it's good of Your Lordship to say so,” Tobias said, “and I have no doubt that Your Lordship is much wiser and more important than me. But it's my understanding that Your Lordship is fairly new to this city and might be unaware of one or two of our traditions.”
Melchior gaped at the cabbie as if Tobias were an impertinent teacup that had dared to criticize his taste in neckties, but Tobias did not seem to notice.
“Under the Council's charter,” Tobias continued, “meetings of the Hidden Council are open to all citizens of Redemption who are of magic blood, or are magic practitioners, or are guests of the same, regardless of station. My grandmother is an Obeah wise woman and used to hold a seat on the Council, and my Father is the Council's Sergeant-at-arms, so I got the blood part covered. An' tho' I may not be a high-class thaumaturge like some, Gran has taught me a charm or two, so I count as a practitioner as well. And Mister Strephon here has asked me to accompany him, haven't you, Mister Strephon.”
That cunning weasel, Strephon thought; but aloud he said, “Indeed I did.”
“So with all respect to Your Lordship, my rank may be lower than yours, but I have just as much right to be at the meeting as you. In the eyes of the Council, we are equals.”
Melchior's face took on the aspect of an indignant toad, and Strephon feared that he might do something imprudent. Inanna seemed to think the same, for she gave Melchior's arm a warning squeeze. Melchior gave Tobias a tight smile, concealing his gritted teeth, and said, “I intended no offense.”
“None taken, I'm sure.” Tobias turned his attention back to Strephon and made a show of seeing that Strephon was seated securely in his chair and of smoothing out the lines where his suit had been wrinkled by his seat belts.
“I told you to go get Cassandra,” Strephon said in a low, urgent tone.
“Downtown traffic the way it is, I don't think I could make it there and back before the meeting starts, and once the Council is gavelled to order, the chambers are sealed and ain't nobody getting in or out 'til it ends. You know that.”
Strephon did know that, and it irked him that he had forgotten.
“But don't you worry about Cassandra. I'll call Gran and have her look in, make sure she's okay.”
“That was a dangerous thing you did, baiting Melchior that way.”
“I was polite, wasn't I?”
“Your manners are not the issue. You defied Melchior. He will not forget that.”
Tobias became serious. “That's just something I had to chance. A fellow has to stand up for his rights now and then. If he don't, then some folks start thinkin' maybe he's okay with not havin' any rights at all. And if they start thinkin' like that, it's only a small step to thinking maybe that's the natural order of things.”
“I worry about you,” Strephon said.
Tobias's smile returned. “I worry about you too.” He finished straightening Strephon's tie and said, “There you go, all Sunday nice and neat. Like I said, I'll catch up with you in a couple minutes. Good evening, Your Lordship,” he added to Melchior with a brief bow – not rude in any respect, but not nearly obsequious enough, Strephon knew, to placate Melchior's pride.
“Thank you,” Strephon said, “You are very good.”
Tobias gave him a cheerful wave. “That's what friends are for.”
NEXT: Through the Fairy Gate