This is for the power of tension blogfest run by Rachel Morgan and Cally Jackson. It's a tiny fragment of something I started just before my novel Court of Dreams was accepted for publication, and which I probably need to get back to. Enjoy.
Martin Adams looked them both up and down. “And if I give it to you, then you let me live?”
“Do we?” Madeleine asked. “Is he right, Lucien? I could have sworn we didn’t. I could have sworn that She said-”
Lucien raised a hand for silence. “No. You are going to die. Let us not play games on that point. Particularly since my sister seems to have the subterfuge of a foghorn today. Tell us where the item is, please, so that we can get this whole regrettable passage over with.”
Martin Adams folded his arms. “You’ll never find it.”
“Really? I think you’ll find that She is quite good at finding things.”
“Even so.” The man certainly looked pleased with himself. “It’s gone.”
Lucien rolled his eyes. “Oh, please don’t tell me that you’ve put it at the
bottom of the Mariana Trench, or surrounded it with cunning traps, or something. It always gets so tiresome when people do that sort of thing. Plus it never works, of course.”
Martin Adams shook his head.
“Given it to a dragon to horde?” Madeleine suggested dreamily. “Slid it into another dimension with just a teeny, tiny little bit sticking out to get it back?”
Lucien glanced over at his sister. “Madeleine, where would he get a dragon, when the last specimen died in a Tokyo bank vault twenty years ago? Talk sense.” Lucien thought for a moment, and looked back at the clockmaker. “You didn’t, did you?”
Another shake of the head.
“And you aren’t going to tell us what you did do?”
“Oh well.” Lucien flicked his wrist, and a knife appeared in his hand. “I’m sure we’ll find it eventually. Madeleine?”
His sister looked up from prying the leg off a table, and hefted it thoughtfully.