It was hardly surprising when the gorgon returned to Baan’s safe house and informed him that his plan had worked perfectly.
Equally unsurprising was his response: “Of course.”
He could practically hear her scowl.
He went on. “I should warn you it is only a first move upon the chessboard, the first step toward my solution to your problems. A dangerous fragment that could easily backfire without my further assistance. I have not yet given you the plan in its entirety, in order to prevent you from executing it—and then executing me. So I ask you quite simply, Queen Vraska, do we have an agreement?”
She paused, which was hardly surprising. But he knew the length of the pause would be very telling. Five-point-seven seconds or more, and it meant that she was still seriously considering his death. Five-point-six seconds or less, and it meant she was only pausing so as not to seem too eager. He waited, counting the ticks in his head.
“We have an agreement,” she said in exactly five-point-five seconds.
Baan allowed himself a small smile and then, with a mystic gesture, clarified the terms for the binding mystic record: “You agree to secretly keep me alive in exchange for my ongoing service?”
“Yes,” she said, as he had known she would. The gorgon was willing to risk the consequences, choosing Baan and the Golgari over everything else.
“You do know,” she said, “that I’ll still need proof of your demise for the guilds.”
“Of course,” he said again as he crossed the room confidently. He opened a closet door. A veiled figure stood within. He removed the veil to reveal a statue, a perfect replica of himself with a look of terror etched upon his face.
“Impressive work,” she said. “Not much in the way of art, and the expression borders on cliché, but it’s very realistic. Very convincing. Who’s the sculptor?”
“I am,” he said. “And I apologize for the expression. I had to create it in a mirror, and emotion does not come naturally to my face.”
“It might have been the perfect proof—before you were blinded. You must know it’s useless now. No one will believe I petrified a blind man.”
“Indeed. I showed this to you merely to demonstrate how far ahead I have planned my contingencies. This was created in this studio weeks before Lazav blinded me. For although I will admit I had not planned for such an injury, our meeting here today, on the other hand, is one that I fully anticipated as an eight-point-nine percent possibility.”
“And is that really the only reason you have presented this effigy for my perusal?” She seemed to be altering her style of diction to match his—though whether consciously or unconsciously was not yet clear.
Still, he seriously considered her question for two-point-eight seconds before responding: “No, I believe you are right. There is an element of vanity to this display. I felt someone should see it.”
“I understand.”
“Good. We understand each other.”
“And the problem of proof?”
“I have been working on an alternative. We’ll need witnesses. Well, one witness, in particular. Chandra Nalaar.”