Thursday, October 5, 2017

Whither Goes the Wind--Part 47

Lulea lay on the ceiling, curled up into a ball.  It wasn't exactly comfortable, but it was marginally cooler than the floor of Vulcan's cave, even if she did have to fly to stay up there.  And there was something of a breeze, even if it was as stifling as the rest of the damn cave.  She could shut her eyes and pretend she was somewhere more pleasant.

"Ummm, Miss... Sylph..." came Vulcan's voice.

"Lulea," she said, keeping her eyes closed.

"Well, we cleaned up the sick," he said, "and if you want to come down and look at what's happening..."

"No, I don't," she answered.  "My friends are dying.  Because of me."

"The fact that Lady Polychrome is an arrogant fool played a part," noted the Salamander.

"Yes, but if I hadn't taken the mirror, she'd just be having people... oh, shining all the mirrors in the Silver Palace," said Lulea.

"Yes, if I had returned to the Sun, Etain wouldn't have been sent after me, and you would never have taken the mirror to help her," said Vulcan.   "We can play this game as long as you wa..."

"No, no," she said, perking up.  "That's pretty good.  This is all your fault.  Not mine."

Vulcan blinked.  "Uhh, yes, I was going to point out that it was more compli..."

"Yeah, yeah," said Lulea, floating down to the floor.  "It's all on you.  So, how are you going to help me fix it?"

Vulcan considered matters.  "That was what I hoped to talk to you about, so I will just accept this turn of events as a good thing."

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