Demon Lord 6: Garnet Tongue Goddess by Morgan Blayde

expected a wizened old gypsy with a headscarf and shawl.  What I got was a hot blonde with highlights, crimson lipstick, and a tight red dress.  I spoke to her tits.  “Hello there.  I’m looking to hire some magical talent.”
    She looked me up and down.  “The dragon halfling.”  Her gaze swung to my companion.  “And dark child.  I’ve been expecting you.”
    I said, “How about you get rid of our escort so we can talk privately.”
    “Escort?”  Malevolence looked behind us.  “I don’t see anyone.”
    I concentrated, using the tattoo that tied me to my armory.  My Beretta PX4 Storm semi-automatics popped into my hands.  I quarter-turned and aimed at two of the hidden fey.  “There and there.  In a moment, they’re going to start bleeding quite heavily.”
    Malevolence’s eyes popped wide in disbelief.  “No shit!”
    The seer in the doorway said, “That won’t be necessary.  You may enter.  I have been expecting you.”
    I muttered to Malevolence.  “See?  Anyone can be reasoned with.”  I tossed my guns up in the air.  They vanished, returning to my armory until called upon again. 
    Malevolence stretched it out a word, “Daaaaaaaamn!”
    The seer led us across a dim-lit room with golden carpeting, through purple curtains, into a sitting room.  The chairs were European antiques: curvy legged, gilded wood with red upholstery.  There were three of them surrounding a mahogany table that looked a great deal more modern despite its lion feet.  The obligatory crystal ball sat in a silver cradle upon a midnight blue runner.  Near the scrying ball was a deck of tarot cards, set face down. 
    Fey and their props. The room’s probably a lot different than what we’re seeing.
    The seer motioned toward two of the chairs.  “Sit, and show me your gold.”
    “You have a name?” I asked.
    “ Nettle comes close, in your human tongue,” she said.
    “Fine.  Here’s your gold.”  What I had wasn’t ordinary twenty-four carat, ninety-eight percent pure; it was fey gold, thirty caret, purer than anything refined by humans.  Soft gold so fine it literally glows in an unpolished state. 
    I stretched my empty hand out over the table and used a thought to activate a portal spell from my treasure vault.  The vault provided the magic from energies stored there so I paid no price in pain for the transfer, though the pain of shelling out this much cash was horrific indeed.
    Under my hand, a black silk pouch appeared, dropping to the table with a loud clunk .
    The seer looked at the pouch, totaling up the contents without opening the bag.  She smiled hugely.
    “Don’t think that’s all for you,” I said.
    Her smile dimmed.  “I see you know the value of what you have.”
    I opened the bag and let a couple dime-sized coins spill out.  One came out tails, imprinted with a middle-finger salute.  Another was heads, stamped with an image of my face.  I brushed the two coins toward her. 
    She gathered them up and stared into my eyes.  “Exactly how can I help you?”
     
    1
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    NINE
     
    “The sushi chef and mermaid will
    never agree on the nature of evil,
    but the customer is always right.”
     
                                                      —Caine Deathwalker
     
     
    I met the gaze of the fey seer and smiled.  “Have you ever seen the movie Ghostbusters ?”
    Nettle lifted an eyebrow.  I took that as a no.  I explained: “In the movie, ghost hunters used a high-tech box to trap ghosts.  I need a fey equivalent.” 
    “You have a plague of spirits.” 
    It was a statement, not a question, but I answered.  “Yes.”
    “I’ll rent you my granddaughter,” the seer said.
    “Excuse me?” I said.
    “Thorn is good with barrier magic and she can talk to ghosts even when they’ve not materialized.”  She jostled the two coins in her palm so they clinked.  “This