The Renegade Banshee

I took a deep breath before we entered the draugar’s house. Yes, it smelled as bad as I remembered. I looked over at Norene to see how she was faring.

She sniffed experimentally. “That is quite strong. But not as bad as I was expecting.”

I stared at her.

“I know, I know, you said not to say anything about the smell.”

That wasn’t why I was staring, but explaining that to Norene would only prolong the discussion of smell.

“This way, please.” The spriggan gestured at a half-open door. “Master Stenberg does not like to be kept waiting.”

The less than complimentary response I muttered was drowned by Norene’s friendlier one: “Yeah, waiting’s a drag.” Either she was entirely oblivious to the spriggan’s increasingly nervous manner, or she chose to ignore it by leading the way into the room.

I was beginning to feel rather nervous as well. It was one thing to come here with Sarai’s confidence. Norene’s confidence was nowhere near as reassuring.

“The zombie who refuses to eat and the renegade banshee,” the draugar announced as we approached. “Took your time, didn’t you, Jowan?”

The spriggan bowed with a stiff flourish. “Many apologies, Master.”

“Leave us.”

The spriggan was out the door even before Norene had a chance to say goodbye.

“You wanted to see us?” Norene asked, her expression of open, innocent curiosity.

“Please, sit.” The draugar gestured at the chairs, which were as disgusting as the last time I’d been here.

I sat gingerly in one of the chairs and breathed very shallowly. It didn’t help much. “Did you get any response to my letter?” I hoped being direct would serve me as well as it had last time, and keep the encounter short. If it dragged on too long, I was a little worried I might pass out from lack of oxygen.

The draugar raised one dismissive hand, wafting more of his stench in my direction. “Far too early for that.” He turned to Norene “I have been waiting to meet you for a long time.”

The pit in my stomach got heavier. This smelled entirely too much like political maneuvering.

“Why?” Norene asked. “You could have just asked, like you did now. I always like to meet new people.”

“Astute observation.” He leaned forward, and I struggled not to gag. “You are as interesting as they say.”

The second statement was almost certainly true. I suspected, however, that Norene’s question had much more to do with her oblivious innocence rather than any astuteness.

Norene blinked at the draugar. “They?”

“You have quite the reputation. The renegade banshee who lives with the short-lived dead.” The draugar smiled, revealing rotting gums and teeth that were black where they weren’t missing. “You are a frequent topic of conversation among me and my associates.”

Oh, this could in no way be considered good. I wondered if there was any polite way to flee the house, but figured even if there was, Norene wouldn’t follow.