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I am given pleasure as I witness the demon bow his head to me fractionally lowered than I had bowed my own. His respect does him credit but though I would never admit it I wish he had instead shown courtesy in choosing a place more suited to my presence and forsaken such pleasantries in greetings. I feel another gust of wind blow over me and I know that eventually it will become a problem if we spend hours milling about in this circle of human stones.

As he replies that there are no apologies necessary I accept his statement. I’m pleased that I am not held responsible for the corruption of one of my servants. But by our codes I am and it is a debt that I shall carry until it is redeemed. Smoke trickles from my human nostrils as I fume inwardly. At least charbroiled traitor was delicious even if humans were not the best quality meat. It was a small consolation.

“I will have your back Atticus. No treachery shall return me to slumber once awoken.” I say in reply as the demon’s attention is distracted and I forgive him for his straying attention. My human lips shape a small frown as I lower my head again and with my eyes still fixed on his face in respect blink to signal dismissal. 

Only then do I move my eyes away from his face and I turn my head to look at the newer arrivals. Sethan the flammable pile of bones who fancied himself a king had come, so had the elvish necromancer and many others. I could smell the death on them both as the breeze swept over me again. I lock eyes with the fey that holds a rank of authority and nod slightly in respect of his position and skill for I had quite enjoyed hearing him play in the past. 

I slip an alabaster hand down to pull a thin pipe from a hidden fold in my gown. Smoking makes it easier to hide that I actually exhale smoke around humans. It is old and slightly yellowed, thin and carved from bone. I know that I should use a different one when outside the mansion but there is sentimental value to this one. He did run me through in life after all. 

I purse my lips and blow a tiny wisp of flame through them to ignite the tobacco in the pipe before raising it to my lips and inhaling. The smoke fills my lungs but it doesn’t have any effect on me. I do not feel the need to say anything else as I wait and watch, slowly smoking and wondering what had been important enough to rouse me from my slumber.