Friday, June 05, 2009
Azazel compared his bone to the others in Meinwen’s possession. “There are some words missing,” he said, and concentrated hard. A wisp of smoke appeared above the bone as he carved in the missing sigils by will alone. When he’d completed four of the microscopic words he paused and blew away the bone dust, holding it tightly until the bone yellowed to match the rest. “Here you go,” he said. “As good as new. As good as when the rest were originally carved, at any rate. That’ll be £5 please.”
“Here.” Meinwen handed him the note the bones were wrapped in. “It’s an old £5 note but it’s the gesture you’re interested in, isn’t it? Not the actual value of the money.”
“Clever girl,” said the Demon. “You have the will of it. Now I shall leave you. I have pressing business.” He opened a portal and had gone before Meinwen even looked up.
“Bugger,” she said aloud. “He didn’t tell me the translation.”