43

I called Larry to make sure he had enough time to gather materials and to coordinate the others. I thought about how much Cobb had wanted Larry doing the work, and now in way he'd conned me into getting him to sign on and help out. I know he'd do it as we're family, but I really started feeling guilty, and manipulated as I got further into the preparations. Larry needed to be cut out of the situation, before Cobb figured out how to manipulate us more for his ends.
Just how I was going to do this was the big question at the moment, and I spent most of the day trying to figure out exactly each of my and Cobb's steps in this little dance we were in. I was still trying to chart it on paper when Cobb knocked on the door. I was not going to take any chances, so I put some iron nails in my pocket and Iron filings around my desk to lessen the impact of any fae spells. Once I had finished, I walked over to the door and opened it and stepped back. Cobb entered and once past the threshold, he seemed to deflate slightly as his magick encountered the cold iron.
He saw the filings on the floor and stopped dead in his tracks in the outer office. I stepped into the room and turned towards him, I leaned back on the edge of my desk and put my hands on either side, my left near a pouch of filings and my right near a heavy paperweight that I could throw if need be. After the performance earlier today, I was in no mood to trust or forgive and forget. I may have to work with him, but I don't have to be nice or fake being polite any more.
“You're here, now what do you want to say before I tell you how this is going to work?” His face hardened, and his shoulders hunched over like he was getting ready to attack, and I moved my hand over to the pouch, ready to fling it in his face. He suddenly let go of the anger and stood there watching me. “I believe I said that I am sorry and that my actions would never happen again” he said to me, then he tried to give me a sincere, disarming smile, which only ended up looking to me like a sour grimace.
“Yes you did, but I don't trust you. I have to work with you, and I will to get the job done, but I don't have to like working with you or like you. So we work, we get this done, we go our separate ways.” I will have to say that he didn't get mad or pout like I expected. he considered the words and kept his temper in check. “Very well” he said at last. “I will listen to your directions and I will not have any rancor for you in this. I understand and accept.”
That went a lot better than I'd hoped it would, so one thing down. Th e next job was to make sure that Cobb was willing and able to create the effect we needed. The last was to ask him how he stopped the creature when it attacked the house. Cobb got evasive no this. “I will deal with it if it does show again. I promise you that, Ms Fatelli. The pain I gave it the last time will no doubt cause it to stay well away from any group I am with.”
“Maybe so”, I countered, “but you can't be everywhere at once.” He smiled. “I don't have to, I can glamour one or more of the other wizards with my countenance, that should convince the creature to stay clear. My skill can make sure that every nuance of myself is duplicated on another. The creature will not be able to tell the difference.” I didn't like the idea actually, but it did make sense, and if it worked that was great. “What if it does, how will the others defend themselves from it? You may be willing to put trust in an illusion, but I'm not. That creature is strong enough to rip someone in half, and I don't want anyone dying because we didn't think things through. Why all the secrecy?”
He pulled himself up and stood straight and stared at me. “Those matters are of the fae, and rest assured I will deal with the creature myself. If it should penetrate the glamour, I will confront it directly” he said in a tone that said I was not going to get another word out of him about it. I was upset, but figured I'd better let it go and then come back to it when we both weren't so irritated.
I told him when and where to meet us for a ride up to the bridge, but he refused saying that he would be there directly through the faery paths. So long as he was there on time, that's all that mattered. I used the spare time I had to go through telephone calls that had backed up and a little cleaning of my office. It was still dingy, and looked like a down-on-the-luck 1930's film noir of a private investigator's office, but it's a tasteful dingy.