Page Two

"If you like," Baskerville said equably in response to Sylvie. "They'll stay warm a while longer." (Impatient? Nooooooo no no... yes.)

"Weft? He's a--" Suitov began, but he was interrupted by something happening in the entrance hall. There was a glow of light, a brief noise like unto an angel choir humming and a brash female voice saying "Ta daaa! And see, Icey, I'm exactly on - bugger, where is everyone?"

A head rounded the door and spoke thus: "Aw, stinkers." The head in question belonged to Perry and was topped with a white military beret over short brown hair. When the rest of her caught up with it, she was dressed in a red toy soldier jacket done up with shiny buttons and gold brocade, white trousers in the same nursery-military style and polished black knee boots.

"At ease, gents," she said, pausing at a convenient distance to give Sylvie a long, slow look before repeating the same treatment for Nico and giving Suitov a cursory eyeball. A grin was painted over her face throughout, but it was rather more genuine than that on most tin soldiers.

Sylvie forced a smile. Mercy! Not another one! She hoped there would be guests less overflowing with excess energy joining them soon.

Nico had to laugh through that inspection, but, yes, stood feet shoulder wide apart and with her hands (holding the second book) behind her back. "Sorry to have ruined your entrance there. But..." Any trace of a smile drained out of her face. She walked towards the toy soldier, and continued, voice angry and projecting.

"...what are you thinking ordering around civillians outside a warzone, soldier?"

Sylvie shook her head and picked out a savoury pastry for herself. By now she had some idea of Nico's humour.

"You will give me your name, and you will give me the name of your commanding officer, we'll see what they say about that!" She stood, and the grin was back suddenly. "Or you could give me your hand for a shake."

"Deserter-in-Chief Perry of the Piano-rescuing Squadron, sah!" Perry saluted inexpertly, gave up and offered to shake. "I can't really do any of this military stuff. Too organised. The outfit's just to annoy His Nibs over there, eh, Iceheart?"

"I wouldn't employ you," Suitov remarked.

"I'm Nico, and I avoid getting involved into military for... similar reasons. Mind, if you're on the outside, being familiar with the organisation is helpful; in my experience it confuses soldiers when a civilian knows their regulations better than they do."

Nico shook Perry's hand, drew her into the circle, and looked a question at her partner, who picked up on it. "I don't think we've met before. My name is Sylvie," she said, smiling and offering her hand a bit shyly.

(The pastry was still wrapped and in her left hand, in case anyone was wondering.)

Switching over to use her right hand instead, Perry shook once more.

"I'm Perry, Perry Wryflight. In real life I'm a, well, a xenobiologist up until a few weeks ago and now shiftless and unemployed. Have you seen our present? I hope at least someone here can play. Chop Chop Waltz is about my limit."

"The piano? I think Nico can -"

"No, sorry. I know the names of the keys still, but the few bits I could play once upon a time I have forgotten. Baskerville?" She looked at the dog and raised an eyebrow.

"Hmmmmm..." Baskerville cocked his head to one side. "Well, you don't truly know whether you can do something if you've never given it a try, right? So I reckon I probably can, until evidence convinces me otherwise."

Perry fondled his ears. "But Skervy, you're also convinced you can sing."

"Hey, I'm a great singer! Get me drunk and I'll show you."

Suitov knew he himself couldn't sing or play piano, though was tempted to learn the second one. Though he appreciated Perry's attempt at mockery - she was always scathing about his part in the ongoing war - he was asking himself what self-respecting soldier would dress in bright white. (Not one about to go on field manoeuvres, that's for sure.) He was also wondering if Jaina might turn up.

"Heh! Not that early in the evening; you'd miss too much, I hope."

Nico didn't ask Suitov because she assumed Perry would have known if he could play, and she didn't ask Sylvie because she knew she had not even seen a piano until quite recently.

"So, food?" She glanced over the small congregation, ending with Baskerville. "You seemed to want to get rid of it."

"Well, I won't mind TOO much if there's stuff left over," Baskerville admitted magnanimously. "Go on, grab one, grab lots."

Perry reached down, pulled out and unwrapped a fruit pastry and pried it open, using the waxy paper to catch falling pastry flakes. She had a strange habit of dissecting her food and eating it in bits. However, she did at least chew and swallow her mouthful before saying "'s good".

"In that case, it's all completely my own recipe," Baskerville fibbed.

Suitov accepted a couple of glasses of mulled wine from a tray and offered them to the girls. A servant, meanwhile, had brought a bowl and a jug, much to the dog's appreciation. Clever how they do that.

Sylvie ate slowly, holding up one hand to catch stray crumbs. She had already located the charm hidden in her pastry, and was saving that bite for last.

Nico picked a sweet one - she really needed more sugar in her system, yes, definitely.

When Suitov passed around glasses, Sylvie (after thanking him) inspected the bottom of hers quickly to make sure it wasn't damp, and set it down on the piano until after eating. She really didn't want any crumbs on that dress.

Nico was distracted at the time, having to extract something metallic from her teeth. The charm had the shape of a pair of wings that could belong to a bat or a dragon, for example. She decided she preferred the first option.

"A leftover from Hallowe'en?" she asked, liking the idea. Slightly belatedly she took a glass from Suitov, using it as an excuse to get the charm out of sight, wrapped in the last two fingers of her left hand. "Thanks! Oh! That just reminded me, you were going to tell us if Weft is a vampire or not."

Holding her half-eaten fruit pocket in her right hand, Perry accepted a glass eagerly and downed half in one swallow. Kind of sweet for her, not even all that alcoholic, but she'd never been much of a wine drinker. At least it was festive.

"We have honeyed ale if you prefer it, madam," a servant remarked in passing. Perry stared at him for a moment (she hadn't been aware she'd pulled a face) before saying "Yeah, that sounds good."

She took another bite and finished the glass anyway. It made an interesting mix of flavours.

"Oh, so I was," Suitov replied to Nico meanwhile. "He isn't much like what I've been told about vampires. He can go about in daylight and isn't allergic to, let me see, it was amaryllis bulbs that bother them, wasn't it?" Beside that, he was sure Jaina would have taken any excuse to slay Weft if he had been. That would be tiresome.

Baskerville paused lapping. "Act'lly, I don't remember where that charm came from..." he said to himself. He did remember there'd been one shaped like angel or bird wings, so perhaps they'd been a matched set. He liked that idea.

"In the vegetable things seem to be a bit shaky; I've heard of, hm, lemons, poppy seeds, carrots, vanilla and I have no idea what I'm forgetting. Garlic's pretty common, though."

Nico took a sip of wine, and Sylvie spoke.

"Where I'm from it's said vampires can't abide white moonlight, mirrors, and silver. I don't remember anything about plants."

Nodding, Nico concluded, "There are plenty of different kinds. The only common theme seems to be drinking blood, and even then there are exceptions."

"Interesting," said Suitov, and his expression concurred with his speech. "Perhaps we shall have to run some tests on him. So, how many of these different kinds of vampire has any of you encountered?"

"Mainly animal ones personally," Perry said, "but I met a boy once who I'm pretty sure had it. He was pale enough, anyway, and he could mesmerise. I always heard vamps could do some sort of hypnosis."

"I've heard they can entrance their victims, too. I never met any vampires, as far as I know."

Nico frowned. "Sorry, my memory's... weird. I'm not sure anymore which I met and which I just heard about." She shook her head quickly, uncomfortable with that topic, and popped the last of her pastry into her mouth.

"Whoo, that is weird. I mean, waking up without remembering much of the night before, that's one thing - thanks, love," Perry interrupted herself to accept a glass from a servant. "How d'you forget a face-to-fang encounter with a bloodsucker?"

The girl was given to rushing in where angels and polite people feared to tread. Suitov, who'd been interested but unwilling to press an issue Nico apparently didn't want to talk about, cracked walnuts for Baskerville and listened.

"Self defense. When I remember particulars like that, it's very vividly. Perfect way to ruin my day."

Nico managed to keep her tone light, more or less, but welcomed the distraction of Sylvie saying, "It's a chicken."

She'd been so baffled by that charm she had not been listening closely. Nico chuckled, they exchanged a look, and Sylvie made the little silver chicken disappear in an inside pocket of her jacket.

"Thank you, Baskerville, that was delicious."

Nico nodded agreement at the dog before turning back to Perry and asking cheerfully, "You said something about rescuing pianos. Care to tell what from?"

Baskerville laughed in delighted surprise at the chicken... it seemed that he had heard a certain heroic tale of derring-do second- or third-hand, or maybe just liked chickens.

Perry had chosen that moment to take a swig of the viking ale ("just like Hallbjorn used to make"), allowing Suitov to get a word in edgewise.

"From history, actually," he said. "And if that sounds exciting, bear in mind that first of all we spent weeks travelling around various libraries' records looking for a suitable piano to rescue."

Perry interrupted. "Ice-heart, you don't know how to tell a story. It was fantastic. Fire was all around, the creak of timber giving way, smoke in your nostrils, eyes, everywhere. Outside, miles up above the roof, wind-roarers were screaming past with the sound of falling bombs and the ground shaking like a giant's footsteps. Heroically holding back the heat and the flames with Suitov's sorcerous skill, we battled..."

"I'd studied the floor plans so we were in and out in less than sixteen seconds, including dropping the decoy wood."

"...battled through the inferno to where the piano stood, then mustering all my strength and skill, we carried the beautiful Ffirish, Sons, Daughters and Rex first-edition Klavira triumphantly to safety."

"We could have bought one, but where would the fun have been?"

"One, I like your thinking!" Nico pointed at Suitov. "Two, between the two of you, you could tell an excellent story."

Sylvie glanced at the door, hoping someone else would show up. She wasn't sure anymore if she hoped to meet Sebastian here, but, well, more company would be nice.

"Three, if librarywork is boring depends very much on the library," Nico concluded.

"Who said it was boring?" Suitov mused.

"It was!" Perry retorted.

"You didn't spend more than half an hour in any of them."

"I did in the one with the cute librarian."

"Not exactly helping with the research."

Baskerville crunched an almond kernel and looked to see where Sylvie was looking. "So, how's the magery business going?" he asked her.

"Not very business-like lately, but interesting. One of Nico's friends has been helping me with air fine control. I'm slowly getting a grip on sound."

Nico, for once, was silent; listening to the Piano Rescue Squad was entirely too much fun.