The painted maidens escorted Alex, Jaycee, and Mina into a dim chamber. The drapes had been drawn; vertical slits of light revealed that it was day. In the dim, something moved. A juicy popping sound followed.
“Light,” whispered a low and gossamer voice.
One of the maidens turned up the sconces, revealing a greasy spider of a man. He slouched in his chair, limbs akimbo, his distended belly wrapped in a satin plaid smoking jacket, the knot tied atop his swollen gut like the bow of a present. Stringy black hair, long and lank, hung from a pasty skull. protuberant eyes lolled around. Alex wasn’t sure if Emberwite could even see. He reached out with a pale and spindly hand, plucked a cherry from a bowl beside his chair and ate it. The fruit burst in his mouth. He leaned over and spit out the pit. It bounced and rolled across the dusty floor. A third maiden emerged from behind a heavy curtain, picked it up, and put it in her pocket.
“Well, now.” He simpered and stroked his forked goatee. “The great Alexandra Hawthorne, I presume?”
“Alex.”
He shook his head, wide eyes searched her, then her friends.
“Alexandra, I think. You sought me out. That you found me…” he chuckled, “is by my will, not yours.”
Alex nodded. His voice seemed unnaturally high. Girlish. The door of her memory palace came to the fore. She could escape quickly and easily. Jaycee and Mina? Not so.
Emberwite bounced his tatty black slipper. Alex hoped he would fling it off his foot and forcibly break character to retrieve it.
“So, what brings you to me? My good looks?” He flicked his hair and posed. Someone had punched the mirror behind him, the web of cracks spreading across the glass.
Now he draped his leg over the arm of the chair, the robe shifted, but revealed nothing. “Desire? A job?” He motioned to the painted maiden standing silently nearby. “I could create an opening for you. You’d look so much better in porcelain.”
Jaycee made a retching sound. Mina whimpered. Alex kept her expression neutral.
“I seek the Man in the Golden Coat,” she said evenly.
Emberwite tsked. “So knowledge then. Boooriiing.”
Nicanor Abbott 