A whole lot of black.

A blindfold will do that.

Gerrick felt himself forcefully seated in a plush leather chair. A hand pulled his blindfold off. He blinked in the torchlight.

This chamber of the Brotherhood's warrens looked like the converted wine-cellar of an old temple of The Sun. Faded murals covered the well-constructed stone walls, and pillars held up the double-vaulted cielings. The paintings of the coats of arms on the ceilings seemed to wane as badly as the murals, but both showed some sign of touching up--Mother Duck was a sentimental man.

The stone floor, Gerrick noted, was spotless, as were the neatly arranged Windkin rugs and silk pillows. Paintings hung on the walls, ranging from billowing skyscapes to city markets, and even some portraits Gerrick did not recognize.

And facing Gerrick, a polished cherry-wood desk with all the adornments of office: a quill pen, an oil lamp, a candle and wax seal, an ink well, and a tacky bust of The Chancellor, probably made out of plaster. Behind it, silhouetted against the glowing fire in the fireplace, stood a fat man in fine cut clothing, balding on top.

Mother Duck spoke in a deep, oily voice. "Welcome, welcome." He gestured with one hand as he turned. "Lithe, do be a good boy and fetch some Cognac, would you please?"

One of the thieves behind them left quickly. Gerrick heard a heavy metal door squeal open, and then close with a metalic bang.

Mother Duck pulled out his chair and sat down. "Normally I keep tea for guests, but as you are the son of a close friend, I think a little more respect is due. I would truly abhor the thought that you might return to your dear father and tell him I was less than gracious."

Gerrick fought the butterflies in his stomach and smiled. "Wouldnae dream of it."

"But first let us tend to business. Let us see here..." Mother Duck shifted some papers around on his desk. "Ah. Yes. Let's see...Mmmm...Here it is. I believe your words were, and I quote, 'I have to maintain good relations with him. After dinner, you and I will go see him, and I'll negotiate for your life personally.'" Mother Duck put the papers down, eying Gerrick seriously. "My dear lad, in what world do you and I have relations?"

Gerrick felt his stomach drop out. "Well...I dinnae get in yer way, and ye dinnae make any messes fer me. I call that good relations."

Mother Duck stared at him.

Gerrick stared back, wondering at each fraction of a second more urgently than the previous if he shouldn't try harder to make some obeisance.

Mother Duck shook his head. "Gerrick, Gerrick, Gerrick...Do please tell me the man I fought with alongside cannot have raised such a brazen little whelp as the fool who sits before me."

Gerrick went for broke. "Well I am a MacBoon, sir."

Mother Duck chuckled deeply. "Yes..." He chuckled some more. "Yes, you are at that." He shook his head. "Hooo. Oh, very well. You do at least have your father's brass bangers, I'll grant. A piece of friendly advice, and the second to last you will recieve from me: that particular inheritance will serve you well, but it will not help you in certain circumstances." he gestured about himself, and lookd at Gerrick sharply. His tone took on a bit of a growl. "For example, the one you find yourself in now."

Gerrick nodded solemnly. "Then what respect could I show to--"

"Shut up, you little prick." Mother Duck stood up, leaning across the table, glaring at Gerrick. "You can listen while I emphasize your position. You are in a chair surrounded by men who would fall on their knives at my command. You exist on a continent floating miles above the sky. I could drop your bodies over and no one would be the wiser, not even your family. I would never suffer any consequences in my relationship with old Hamish." He nodded to one of the thieves and snapped his fingers.

The thief threw a black cloth over Ansley's head and pulled her up. She shrieked.

"Ansley!" Gerrick and Jonas both tried to rise, but hands pushed them back down.

"Where she is going now is my affair, and if you wish to see her again, I expect you to remember your place with me!"

Gerrick looked to him. "Please."

"I said shut up. You thought you were going to waltz in here on your father's recognizance and bargain for a life with me. You don't bargain with me, whelp. I set the terms."

Gerrick held up both hands.

Mother Duck began to pace. "I'll brook your indescretion this once, as a warning, first because I love your father, and second...Well..." He examined his nails. "I've been watching, and there is something you can offer me in exchange for a reprieve for Master O'Toole."

Gerrick took a deep breath and steadied himself, his panicked mind trying to reach through the iron door for Ansley. "Name it."

Mother Duck glared at him. "What I tell you next is the devil's own secret. If you tell anyone, you will wake up one morning and find you are short one Fraser Troublemaker."

Gerrick bowed his head. "Yer secret dies wi' me."

The old thief studied him closely, then looked toward one of the portraits, a portrait of an albino man wielding an ornate sword. "I was the victim of a spy." He turned back to Gerrick. "One of my trusted capos, a man we knew as Hermann, turned out to be a priest of the Scarred Mother, and an agent of Marsaukan. He stole precious secrets, and one or two of our specialized...weapons."

Gerrick squinted. "An' what--" Gerrick found his mouth was dry. He swallowed. "What can a boy in my position do fer ye 'boot that?"

"I want to know where he is. He cannot have yet departed, according to our scries, but that is all we know. He is protected by powers we cannot penetrate. That does not preclude him from being found by mundane eyes, and yours dare to go even where they are not welcome. Ours do as well, of course, the difference being that yours can move more freely, being that you are the son of the Laird of Inverray."

Gerrick nodded silently.

"Find him, and then you might, if I deign to permit it, have good relations with me which you must maintain. I will also consider the matter of Fearghas O'Toole closed. Fail--" he leaned closer to glare at Gerrick, "--and Fearghas dies, and you will never sleep a restful night again."

Gerrick nodded. "Aye. We'll find 'im."

"Good lad." He smiled, and snapped his fingers again. The iron door opened, and Ansley was pushed back into her chair. A thief pulled the black cloth off her head, revealing a terrified expression. Her chest heaved with rapid breaths.

Another thief entered with a dark glass bottle and five snifter glasses.

"Ah. Very good. Do serve our guests. Give Madam Fraser a double serving. The poor dear looks positively up to her gills in stress."

Gerrick reached out and took her hand. She gave it a hard squeeze.

"And now," Mother Duck raised his snifter, "the second piece of friendly advice I promised you, young MacBoon. In all your business dealings, conduct them in the correct order. Business first, then drinks. Unless of course you need to loosen them up a measure first." He smiled.

Gerrick raised his snifter in a shaking hand. "I'll remember it, sir. Thank ye."

Mother Duck took a sip. "Ahhh. Good vintage this. And now, let us discuss master Hermann..."