Lord Loss (The Demonata 1)

“He's useless, isn't he?” Meera laughs.

“At some things,” I mutter, finding my voice at last.

Meera unzips the front of her leather jacket, revealing a T-shirt with an anti-war slogan. She slides out of the coat, then sits on the stairs and peels off her boots and trousers. She's wearing shorts underneath.

“Make yourself at home,” Dervish says wryly.

“Don't I always?” Meera replies. She catches me ogling her, and winks. “Got a girlfriend, Grubbs? If not, watch out — I like younger men!”

I blush like a fire engine. Meera slips through to the kitchen for a drink.

Dervish laughs. “You look like a kettle.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“There's steam coming out your ears!”

Before I can think of a comeback, Meera calls from the kitchen. “Whoops! I've spilled milk all over my T-shirt. Can you come and help me out of it, Grubbs?”

I think life's about to get very interesting!

“Ah,” says Bill-E with a cheetah's smile. “The mysterious Meera Flame. She's hot, isn't she?”

“And doesn't she know it,” I huff. “She hasn't stopped flirting with me since she arrived. My cheeks feel like they've been slapped a dozen times today!”

We're in the kitchen, guzzling milk shakes. Dervish and Meera have gone out for dinner.

“Don't worry about that,” Bill-E says. “She does it with me too. She likes making men — and boys! — blush.”

“She's doing a good job of it,” I mutter, then cough. “Her and Dervish … are they … ?”

“Nah,” Bill-E says. “Just friends. She travels around a lot. Always off somewhere exotic. Comes to stay every now and then. They go on biking trips together sometimes, but Dervish says they aren't an item, and I don't think he'd lie. Who could keep quiet if they had a girlfriend like that!”

Saturday. Meera woke me up this morning for breakfast in bed. Walked right in, wearing a nightgown and (as far as my imagination's concerned) nothing underneath. Sat chatting with me while I ate, asking about life with Dervish and what I thought of Carcery Vale — “Boring as hell, isn't it?” — and just being all-around beautiful. I had a hard time keeping my eyes on my toast and fried eggs!

Bill-E came early to see Meera. She fussed over him like a mother hen. “You've grown! You're filling out! Becoming a man! When are you going to sweep me off my feet and take me away from all this?”

Dervish and Meera made for his study after a while, so Bill-E and I head out to explore the nearby forest. Searching for Lord Sheftree's buried treasure.

“If we find it, we don't tell anyone,” Bill-E says, poking through the roots of an old dead oak. “We wait until we're older and know more about these things. Then we sell it on the quiet and split the profits fifty-fifty. Agreed?”

“Maybe I'll bump you off and take it all for myself.” I smirk.

“Won't work,” he says seriously. “I keep a diary. If I die, Grandma and Grandad Spleen will find it, read about us digging for the treasure, and put two and two together.”

“You think of everything, don't you?” I laugh.

“I try to,” he says immodestly. “I get it from Dervish and our chess games. He's always nagging me to maximize my potential and use my brain more.”

“What is it with him and chess?” I ask. “My mom and dad were the same, like it was the most important thing in the world.”

“I don't know about your mom,” Bill-E says, “but it's a family tradition on your dad's side. Seven or eight of the clan have been grandmasters. When Dervish talks about his ancestors, he often makes mention of the great chess players. He even judges people by their ability on the board. I asked him about one of his relatives once, a girl who died about thirty years ago — she looked interesting in her photo and I wanted to know what she was like. He just grunted and said she wasn't very good at chess. That's all he had to say about her.”

Bill-E decides the treasure isn't buried under the tree. Picking up our tools — an axe and a shovel — we go in search of other likely spots.

“How often do you come searching for this treasure?” I ask.

“It depends on the weather,” he answers. “In summer, when it's hot and the evenings are long, I maybe come out three or four times a month. Perhaps only once a month in winter.”