Chapter 17 #2
The Association of Ogres didn’t include every ogre in Coldstream; it was a relatively small organisation considering the number of them who lived in the city.
Even so, Mallory was surprised by how many were there.
The house behind the Pitcairn coven wasn’t big enough for more than a dozen or so ogres to live in comfortably, and there were more than three hundred ogres in the Belladonna conference room.
Luckily she’d found photos of the association’s bigwigs in an old version of the Coldstream Courier and she’d studied them closely, so she knew who she was looking for.
Hotel staff were circulating with dainty canapés and scooping up empty cups, glasses and plates.
Mallory scooted around the edge of the room and avoided them as best as she could as she kept an eye out for Richard Stone-arm, the current head of the association.
She was interrupted on several occasions by ogres, most of whom pressed their dirty plates on her, albeit with polite smiles and murmurs of thanks.
One particularly gruff ogre wanted to complain about the lack of authenticity with the traditional troll-flesh vol-au-vents.
Given that troll meat had been illegal for more than two hundred years and goat was used instead, there was no chance the small pastries could ever be described as authentic no matter who cooked them.
Mallory knew better than to argue and simply murmured that she’d pass on the comment to the kitchen.
While that was a lie she didn’t feel ashamed of, she did feel a trace of guilt when another ogre, who was crossing his legs and grimacing, asked for directions to the restroom.
She made an educated guess as to where the toilets were and sent him to the right, hoping for his sake that she was correct.
After two full circuits of the room and no sign of any Stone-arms, let alone Richard himself, Mallory decided to abandon the conference area in favour of the guest rooms upstairs.
George had told her which room Richard was staying in and it would be easier to get him to listen to her away from the crowds.
She was making a beeline for the exit, carrying a towering stack of plates, when she spotted him – and she immediately realised why she’d not noticed him before.
Ogres were typically tall creatures but that wasn’t the case with Richard Stone-arm.
He looked to be under six foot, which was extremely short for an ogre, and he’d been hidden by the rest of the crowd.
Mallory wondered if his height was a genetic quirk; if it were and he’d spent his life compensating for his size, it might explain why he was so keen to assert his superiority in other matters, including pointless covenants.
Mallory spotted an empty tray and dropped the plates onto it, then pushed through the crowd towards Richard Stone-Arm. Unfortunately, she was not the only person who wanted to talk to him and a long queue of people were waiting their turn.
She’d have to be canny about this. She paused and considered, then instead of pressing forward she spun around.
Several doors opened out of the large room and Mallory checked them all, peering inside and taking an inventory before moving on; next she scanned the room for anyone on the periphery who wasn’t eating, drinking or schmoozing.
There was a gruff-looking older woman wearing a suit who was leaning against the wall with her arms folded; it was possible she was a bodyguard or bouncer, though it was equally possible that she was merely bored out of her mind. Either way, she’d do.
Mallory approached her. ‘Excuse me?’ she squeaked.
The ogre glanced at her and clocked her staff uniform. ‘What’s housekeeping doing here?’
Ah: the woman was definitely some sort of security ogre; few other guests would have noted the difference in employee uniforms. Mallory dropped her eyes and shuffled her feet.
‘Uh, downstairs asked me to drop by. There’s an urgent phone call for Mr Stone-arm – it’s come through on the switchboard but I don’t know who Mr Stone-arm is and… ’
The ogre sighed. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll tell him.’
Whoop-whoop. Mallory pointed at one of the closed doors. ‘There’s a phone in the Glasgow Room. He can take it in there.’
‘Thank you.’ The woman pushed away from the wall and plunged into the crowd.
Mallory grinned then darted around the room and swiftly went through the same door. There was indeed a phone on the long sideboard and she picked up the receiver.
She didn’t have to wait for long. The gruff security ogre walked in first and swung her head around to check for lurking intruders. Her eyes slid over Mallory, who was standing with the phone in her hand and a bright smile on her face. She was a squib and not a threat to anyone.
‘Clear,’ the ogre grunted and a second later, Richard Stone-arm walked in, a frown etched onto his forehead.
‘You can leave,’ he told the woman and moved towards Mallory.
She waited until the other ogre had closed the door before replacing the receiver and taking a step back. She folded her arms so he didn’t think this was some strange, premeditated attack.
His eyes darkened in suspicion and he stopped moving. ‘What is this?’
‘I apologise, Mr Stone-arm.’ Mallory knew that she had to explain quickly before he turned and left the room. ‘There is no urgent phone call but I need to speak to you alone. My name is Mallory Nash. I can assure you I am no threat, but I desperately need to talk to you about the Pitcairn coven.’
His bushy eyebrows rose upwards. ‘Those witches? This is about the stupid covenant? For fuck’s sake.’ He turned away.
‘Mr Stone-arm, please.’ Mallory kept her voice soft; he wouldn’t respond well to even a hint of aggression.
‘Yes, it’s about the covenant and, yes, it’s stupid.
You know it’s stupid. You’re the head of the Association and you have the power to release the covenant.
There’s no reason for you not to do so.’
‘Make an appointment with my secretary and we can discuss it later. Right now I’m busy.’ He continued towards the door and reached for the handle.
‘You’re being a dick,’ Mallory said in the same soft voice.
Stone-arm’s back stiffened and his hand dropped as he turned to face her. ‘Pardon?’
‘You heard me. You’re being a dick. You have no real reason to keep the covenant in place other than to exert your authority, to prove that you have power.
’ She invoked what she’d learned from watching Alexander.
‘A real leader doesn’t maintain power or gain respect by being mean.
A real leader shows humility and kindness, whether towards their own kind or to their neighbours. ’
His face spasmed into an ugly snarl. ‘You’ve got some nerve coming here and talking me to like this!’
‘It’s the only way to talk to bullies. It seems to be the only language your kind understand.’
Mallory could almost taste his rage and she felt a tremor of fear. Had she gone too far? But by this point there was no choice but to stand her ground.
‘You know nothing about the situation!’
‘Then why don’t you explain it to me?’
‘I don’t have to explain myself to the likes of you!’ He was growing redder by the second. ‘I don’t even know who the fuck you are!’
Mallory persisted. ‘Why do you hate the witches?’
‘I don’t hate them!’
It was the answer she’d been hoping for.
‘Then why won’t you let them buy themselves out of the covenant?
’ This time, Stone-arm didn’t answer. She lowered her voice a notch.
‘Is it because it’s not you who refuses to break the covenant but your father?
Is it because your father is the bully and he’s bullying you, the Association of Ogres and the Pitcairn coven? ’
The ogre’s expression was pained. ‘It’s complicated.’
Mallory knew she had him. ‘If I can uncomplicate matters and get your father to change his mind about the covenant, will you agree to let it go?’
‘You’re not going to do that. Nobody can.’
Mallory waited.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ he muttered. ‘Yes! I don’t give a shit about that stupid covenant.
I like the Pitcairns and I’d help them if I could – but you don’t understand what my father is like.
The witches can do away with the damned covenant for free if my father agrees, but he won’t. I guarantee he won’t.’
‘Can I have your word on that?’
Stone-arm laughed coldly. ‘It won’t do you any good.’
Mallory shrugged. ‘All the same.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Fine. You have my word.’ Then he stiffened; although his relationship with his father was strained, he clearly didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. ‘If you try to hurt him in any way…’
‘Please. I’m a squib,’ she reassured him. ‘I can no more hurt an ogre than I can fly.’
She curtsied and grinned. One down, one to go. That had been easier than she’d expected.