Free Order of the Air Omnibus: Books 1-3 by Melissa Scott Page B

the glass of ice that was slowly melting on the side table. “You know Henry. He’s all poise and charm, but he wouldn’t know genuinely occult if it bit him in the ass. And Davenport’s the real deal. Henry may be satisfied with putting on a good show to Hollywood types, but Davenport wouldn’t be. He never was. So there’s some tension in their lodge. Not our problem.”
    “I think you’re underestimating Henry,” Jerry said, and there was a spark in his eye. “Gil thought….”
    “Gil thought Henry was all wind and you know it,” Mitch said. “A nice guy, but full of wind.”
    “It doesn’t matter what Gil thought,” Alma said steadily. “And it doesn’t matter what’s going on between Henry and Davenport. Jerry will finish up the translation Henry’s paying him for, and then we’ll all go home. We’re not in any position to get into a bunch of infighting in somebody else’s lodge.” She gave Jerry a stern look, and to Lewis’ surprise he didn’t argue.
    “I think you’re right,” he said. “We can’t get into that. And there’s something wrong, no question about it.” He looked up at Alma, pushing his gold glasses up on his nose. “Because not only could Henry have called in Geoffrey Bullfinch if he’d been willing to eat a little humble pie, but Davenport is here, in LA. There’s no reason to get me to translate this. Why doesn’t he just ask Davenport?”
    Mitch’s brow furrowed. “Davenport is here? And Henry’s paying you $250 to do this? What the hell?”
    “That’s what I’m wondering,” Jerry said mildly. “That’s why I told Henry we’d be back tonight.”
    “Tonight?” Alma said incredulously.
    “Henry invited us to come back tonight. They’re celebrating the Ploiaphesia.”
    “The hell they are,” Mitch said. “That was back in March.”
    “You know Henry,” Alma said, throwing up her hands. “Why keep to the ancient calendar if it suits everybody’s schedules better to do it any old time they want?”
    “What’s the….whatever?” Lewis asked. If it was something dangerous he was hardly going to let Alma just walk into it, but he could bet she’d insist on going if Jerry and Mitch were.
    “It’s a navigation festival,” Alma said. “It’s supposed to be around March 5th. It marked the beginning of the sailing season in the ancient world, when ships were blessed by Isis.” She looked at Mitch. “Don’t ask me. I have no idea how Henry intends to bless ships twenty miles inland at his house. It is at his house, right, Jerry? Not at a marina somewhere?”
    “No, it’s at his house,” Jerry said. “He has a swimming pool.”
    Alma’s eyebrows rose at that, and Jerry went on. “He said they have a lot of people coming, that it was a semi-open ritual since it’s a festival not a working, and that we’d be more than welcome. I can have another look at the tablet during the party, and you guys are welcome to join them for dinner. It’s buffet.”
    “After the ritual or before?” Alma asked.
    Jerry spread his hands. “After, I should hope. But you know….”
    “The bar will be open anyway,” Mitch said, twitching an eyebrow at Lewis. “I’m up for Henry’s liquor even if it does come with dinner theater.”
    “That’s not entirely fair,” Jerry began.
    Alma pinned him with her eyes. “I take it you told Henry we didn’t have anything suitable to wear? And of course he said he’d take care of it?”
    “Um, yes,” Jerry said sheepishly. “But I’m sure….”
    “And he’s sending a car?”
    “At six thirty,” Jerry said. “They’re not supposed to start until eight. Until it’s getting dark.”
    “And until everyone has a chance to get off work and go home and change.” Mitch shrugged. “Ok. I’m in. Let’s see what old Henry’s up to.”
    “I’ll come,” Alma said, her eyes steady on Jerry. “But this is the last time you accept an invitation for me without asking me. Understood?”
    Jerry nodded. “I am