The brownie smiled gently at him again, and bowed. ‘My name is Pharagora,’ she said politely. ‘In case you were interested.’
‘I was not.’
She bowed again. ‘Very good. I will take your message to Mr. Balligumph.’ She walked calmly past Grunewald—her head barely reaching his knee—and disappeared.
Grunewald smiled sunnily at Aubranael. ‘Now that that’s cleared up,’ he said, and turned to leave.
‘A moment,’ Aubranael said. ‘What was that about?’
‘Nosy, self-appointed bridge guardians prying into our business,’ Grunewald replied. ‘In other words, nothing at all of any import.’
‘Oh? But you were quite angry with her.’
Grunewald’s green eyes glittered dangerously. ‘I dislike spies.’
Aubranael smiled faintly at him. ‘You have many secrets, sire.’
Grunewald pointed one long finger at him a
