Unless . . .
I plucked Frakir from my shoulder and past her along the line of the Logrus force, manipulating her in the proper direction and issuing my commands as she flew.
From my new angle of view and by the faint rainbow halo that now surrounded her I finally saw the lady’s face. It was Jasra, who had damn near killed me with a bite back in Melman’s apartment. In a moment she would be gone, taking with her my chance of obtaining some answers on which my life might depend.
“Jasra!” I cried, trying to break her concentration.
It didn’t work, but Frakir did. My strangling cord, glowing silver now, caught her about the throat, whipping out with a free end to lash tightly about the branch that hung near, to Jasra’s left.
The lady began to fade, apparently not realizing that it was too late.
She couldn’t trump out without decapitating herself.
She learned it quickly. I heard her gurgling cry as she stepped back, grew solid, lost her halo, dropped her Trump and clawed at the cord encircling her throat.
I came up beside her, to lay my hand upon Frakir, who uncoiled one end from the tree limb and rewound it about my wrist.
“Good evening, Jasra,” I said, jerking her head back. “Try the poison bite again and you’ll need a neck brace. You understand?”
She tried to talk but couldn’t. She nodded.
“I’m going to loosen my cord a bit,” I said, “so you can answer my questions.”
I eased Frakir’s grip upon her throat. She began coughing, then, and gave me a look that would have turned sand to glass. Her magical construct had faded completely, so I let the Logrus slip away also.
“Why are you after me?” I asked. “What am I to you?”
“Son of perdition!” she said, and she tried to spit at me but her mouth must have been too dry.
I jerked lightly on Frakir and she coughed again. “Wrong answer,” I said. “Try again.”
But she smiled then, her gaze shifting to a point beyond me. I kept the slack out of Frakir and chanced a glance. The air was beginning to shimmer, behind me and to the right, in obvious preparation to someone’s trumping in.
I did not feel ready to take on an additional threat at this time, and so I dipped my free hand into my pocket and withdrew a handful of my own Trumps. Flora’s was on top. Fine. She’d do.
I pushed my mind toward her, through the feeble light, beyond the face of the card. I felt her distracted attention, followed by a sudden alertness. Then, Yes . . . ?
“Bring me through! Hurry!” I said.
“Is it an emergency?” she asked.
“You’d better believe it,” I told her.
“Uh-okay. Come on.”
I had an image of her in bed. It grew clearer, clearer. She extended her hand.
I reached out and took it. I moved forward just as I heard Luke’s voice ring out, crying, “Stop!”
I continued on through, dragging Jasra after me. She tried to draw back and succeeded in halting me as I stumbled against the side of the bed. It was then I noted the dark-haired, bearded man regarding me with wide eyes from the bed’s farther side.
“Who-? What-?” he began as I smiled bleakly and regained my balance.
Luke’s shadowy form came into view beyond my prisoner. He reached forward and seized Jasra’s arm, drawing her back away from me. She made a gurgling noise as the movement drew Frakir more tightly about her throat.
Damn! What now?
Flora rose suddenly, her face contorted, the scented lavender sheet falling away as she drove a fist forward with surprising speed.
“You bitch!” she cried. “Remember me?”
The blow fell upon Jasra’s jaw, and I barely managed to free Frakir in time to keep from being dragged backward with her into Luke’s waiting arms.
Both of them faded, and the shimmer was gone.
The dark-haired guy in the meantime had scrambled out of the bed and was snatching up articles of clothing. Once he had them all in his grasp he did not bother to don any, but simply held them in front of him and backed quickly toward the door.