"Esther M. Friesner - At These Prices" - читать интересную книгу автора (Friesner Esther M)

you.”
The sarong-clad brownie appeared at Bella’s side before the last word left her
lips. He dragged himself past the four visitors without so much as a nod to any of
them, including the fully manifested troll, and set his hand-held vacuum cleaner to
work on the fallen plaster.
“Bixby!” Berry exclaimed over the roar of the motor. “Don’t you know us?”
Bixby snapped off the vacuum and turned his head slowly. “Of course I do.
Very kind of you to come seeking me, my dear comrades, but I’m afraid it’s no use.
She’s laid the bond of bean and brew upon me. I am hers.” He finished the job and
mumbled a feeble “Aloha,” as he shuffled back into the apartment. The four visitors
watched his broken-spirited retreat with grave dismay. Tom the troll sniffled mightily
as tears of sympathy streamed down his craggy cheeks, and he blew his nose in his
Hotel Security guard cap.
“Let’m go!” he cried, shaking one boulder of a fist under Bella’s nose.
“Let’m go now, or else I’ll—I’ll—I’ll pop you a good ‘un!”
Bella grinned. “What, not grind my bones to make your bread? As if you
could do either! Save your threats, lummox. I’ve only been toying with you. I know
you needn’t swear an oath on this thing—” she waggled the coffee grinder in the
troll’s face. “—to ensure my safety. The holy rule of hospitality forbids a host from
ever doing harm to his guest. Well, I was a guest of House Tiernan—at obscenely
high prices, might I add—and since I paid my hotel bill in full, none of you can lay
one grubby finger on me.”
Berry sighed. “More of Bixby’s teachings, ma’am?”
“Exactly. So, now that we all know where we stand—” She stepped farther
back into the apartment and made a highly sarcastic bow. “—care to come in?”
The four trooped into Bella’s apartment in hangdog single file. Tom remained
trollish, and the rest cast away their mortal glamours at the threshold, like so many
overcoats. Berry the self-confessed engineer shrank by about a foot, becoming a
burly dwarf, though dressed more in keeping with the boardroom than the whole
woodland cottage/underground kingdom/dig-dig-dig-heigh-ho hoo-hah. Only a
mustard yellow pocket protector took his ensemble from chic to geek. He clambered
onto Bella’s sofa with some effort, sparing Tom a cautionary word not to sit on
anything, lest it be smashed to tinder.
Sharp-tongued Selina shrank even more than Berry, down to the size of a
sparrow. She buzzed under Bella’s nose on lacy pink wings and left a sparkling
contrail in her wake. Bella licked her lips and tasted confectioner’s sugar, which
made sense in view of the pixie’s minuscule chef’s tunic and toque blanche. Selina
alit on the lip of a garishly painted vase, booty from Bella’s one hotel stay south of
the border, and idly twiddled a needle-sized wooden spoon.
As for Melusine, her dowdy dress became a clean, utilitarian pair of overalls
girdled by a well-appointed tool belt. She patted one of the wrenches fondly with a
webbed hand the color of ripe honeydew melon.
Bella’s gimlet eyes zeroed in on the rosy frill of external gills framing
Melusine’s serene face. “Hey, little mermaid, where’s your fishtail?”
Melusine blushed pale mint. “Oh, I’m no mermaid, ma’am. I tend to the Hotel
Tiernan’s plumbing, and I couldn’t do that from a fish tank. I’m an ondine.” Bella
gave her a blank stare, so she added, “A water-sprite.” This only evoked further
visual Variations in the Key of D’uh. “I’m kith and kin to nixies and naiads
and—and—Oh, hang it all.” Mel slumped in one of Bella’s tatty armchairs, fiercely
muttering, “Bloody mythological illiterate.”