Chapter 64: Phoenix Is A Peculiar Philosopher

Mon November 30, 2074 1:33 pm- Lothario Hall, Rawling Hills, Pleasantview



Dina crossed and uncrossed her legs, her expression going increasingly sour. Phoenix tried to focus on something other than bristle of her skirt lining as it glided across her stockinged thighs, supposing that there was a special circle of hell reserved just for men who had the odd thought about women related to them by marriage. He cast his eyes to the ceiling. To the floor. To Troy’s polished loafers. At length, Dina broke her silence though it seemed to pain her to do so.

“You’re dreadfully tedious boys and I never liked either one of you,” she said.

Troy leaned forward on the sofa and Dina’s posture relaxed. It was extraordinary the way people responded to his every gesture as though lured in by bait on invisible wires. Not even Dina was immune to Troy’s mysterious powers of influence.



“I have here seated beside me the very honorable young man that you yourself have hired to advise you on your finances. He has combed through your personal income and expenditures, your portfolio of assets and even your company’s financial forecasts. He has provided you with his professional analysis of these documents and prescribed a budget that will keep your head above water. You are in trouble, Deen. And though it may be a bitter pill to swallow, I am strongly recommending that you take his advice.” Troy’s rapid speech was punctuated by a gentle click of his tongue, just as a machine might register a task with an auditory cue. Dina scoffed, plunking back into the chair.



“Are these billable hours, Mr. Caliente?” she sighed. Troy narrowed his eyes, poised for defense.

“Of course they aren't.”

“Then you’re not here as my solicitor. You’re here as my nephew. And as my nephew, I am disinclined to take your recommendation, however articulate," Dina drawled. Troy drummed his slender fingers on the armrest.

“I could of course send you a bill if that’s what it takes to make you see reason."

“Troy, don’t you have a skirt to lift?”



There was a knock at the door. Phoenix was grateful for the interruption, having long since learned to keep out of Dina and Troy's squabbles. Even now, the two of them made him feel as superfluous to their conversations as an intruding child. Dina turned to the door, exasperation etched into the creases between her brow.

"Come in!"



Dina's Townie maid kicked the rug from under the jamb with little ceremony and wiped her free hand on the wall to clean it of some unseen substance. She was a witless-looking creature with simultaneously deep and bulging eyes. Francesca drooled onto the breast of her apron, leaving little plumes of baby spit all over her front.

"Dr. and Mrs. Hadit Davenport here to see you, ma'am," the maid announced, patting the baby somewhat forcefully on the rear. Dina leapt from her seat, her expression transfigured from tart to delighted.

"Haddie!" An older fae man stepped into the room at the sound of his name. He clasped Dina's waist and kissed her on either cheek, mumbling Phoenix knew not what while Dina tilted her head up to listen. There was something uncanny about Dina prancing and giggling, her dour severity lost in a sea of smiles. Troy tapped Phoenix on the arm.



"We'll continue this conversation later," Troy said under his breath.

"How have you been, my girl? You are keeping well, yes?" Hadit trilled, stroking Dina's cheek.

"Oh absolutely not. This past month has been dreadful but I am happy to see you. This is my grandson, Phoenix Goth. He's Cassandra's eldest. And Troy you know," Dina said, guiding Hadit to where Phoenix sat with a gentle tug of his sleeve.

Phoenix offered his hand for the fae to shake and their palms clasped, Hadit said airily, "Your mother was the smartest woman I ever knew. Never do I have a problem but I think, 'Ah, Sandy would know how to fix it.'"

Phoenix's stomach lurched. Unnerved, he retracted his hand slowly, his stare fixed on the supernatural green of Hadit's eyes.

"I never knew my mother," he said.



"Please Haddie, have a seat. Can I offer you a drink?" Dina's face was so close that Phoenix half expected her to kiss him again. Hadit turned and pinched the tip of her nose, making Phoenix's skin prickle. To see a man look so fondly on Dina was to see Don's corpse exhumed and parading around like some kind of pointy-eared escape artist.

"First, I introduce you to my consort. She was behind me one second ago. Nephele! She must be playing with your little granddaughter." Dina hit Hadit playfully on the arm.

"You old rake! Why didn't you tell me that you married?"

"Well, it was sudden decision so I tell you now." The hard clacking of a pair of high heels turned everyone's attention to the door. Phoenix was not sure about what he expected to see emerging from the hallway just then but whatever he had expected, it was not this.



Hadit's wife was so beautiful that Phoenix scarcely knew how he would be able to think on anything else ever again. He traced the swell of her ample hips as she passed by. And though he could not claim to have had the inclination before, Phoenix's thoughts raced with the possibility of spending a few weeks on the shining riverbanks of Veronaville.



"I introduce to you my consort, Nephele Capp-Davenport. She is recent graduate of Royal Academy of Theological Sciences. Summa cum laude in cursu honorum." Dina cocked her head to the side, her gaze traveling ambivalently downward. Phoenix braced himself for one of her backhanded compliments or strained pleasantries. But instead, Dina merely extended her hand to the girl.

"Dina Goth-Lothario. It is a pleasure to meet you, Nephele. And what cursu honorum did you study in school?"

"Ontological Inquiry. Discourses into the nature of existence. It is nice to meet you also. Hadit speaks very highly of you."

"Yes, well Hadit likes his women conventionally pretty and frigid to the point of inertia."

Phoenix could not see her face from where he was seated but Nephele's tone did not betray the least offense when she responded, "Does he indeed, Mrs. Lothario?"

Troy stood at this point, discreetly pulling Phoenix's jacket while he did so. Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward and childish in the sway of his gangling body. Part of him wanted to mutter a few poorly constructed excuses and run from the room rather than having to converse with a woman so intimidating. But Nephele, in a flutter of hair and gold brocade, turned her attention directly past Phoenix. As if sensing the alpha male in the room, she extended her hand to Troy.



"Nephele Imine Kent Capp-Davenport. Et ihora?" Troy took her hand and kissed it.

"Troy Tellerman-Caliente. Tsu hem Ashkay non-ir shün mah."

Phoenix hadn't understood a word of it beyond the name but Dina evidently had. She rolled her eyes and droned, "Don't let him fool you. His Ashkay is fluent."

Nephele smiled prettily at him, tilting her head upward in a gesture that gave Phoenix the full view of her long neck. He wondered how accomplished, how witty, how handsome or rich or simply lucky a man would have to be for the opportunity to run his lips down the cool length of her throat.

"It is a pleasure, Mr. Caliente. We met with your brother earlier today. He was very charming."

"Not the word that I would use to describe J.L. but thank you just the same."



"Troy, if you're done cradling my guest's hand, I should like to introduce her to Phoenix so that we can all sit." Troy dropped Nephele's fingers as though they had been on fire.

"Of course. My apologies, Dina."

"Good. Phoenix Goth, Nephele Davenport. Hadit, if you would." Dina swept her skirt taut and gave Hadit her arm. Clasping her by the elbow, he helped her into her seat. Dina lowered her body slowly, age having made her brittle.

"There is nothing I would not do for such a pretty and inert girl."

"Be careful. I don't know what your wedding vows were but I'm liable to help you break them."



Watching her pull her hair from her neck, Phoenix briefly considered whether he should help Nephele into her chair. But the action would seem to imply something about feminine weakness and in any case, the moment passed while Phoenix pondered.

"So what brings you to Pleasantview? Vacationing amongst the salt of the earth?" Troy sat with his arm propped jauntily along the backrest. Hadit shook his head.

"Oh goodness, no. We're here on business." At the sound of Dina's second favorite word, her joyful little smile returned.

"Really? What sort of business?"

"Ethanol! I am thinking about expanding into the production of natural gases."

"And why would a conservative old codger like you want make ethanol of all things?"

"I do anything where I see simoleon signs. Riverblossom does not yet have the corner on this market."



"That's because the production costs outweigh the profits. No one buys alternative fuels in this part of the world," Dina said, waving her hand dismissively. Hadit leaned in towards her.

"They would if cars with flex-fuel engines were more... What is the word I want here? Ah, sportier. But I make a digression. This ethanol would mainly be for export to some smaller countries." Dina snorted in disbelief.

"I wish I had your balls," she said. Hadit's eyebrows rose.

"Why settle for the wishing?"

"I didn't mean that literally."



Hadit smiled wickedly as though his English were not the problem and Dina shook her head. Racked with unfortunate mental images, Phoenix involuntarily cleared his throat. Hadit turned and parted his mouth to speak but was cut-off before he began.

"In my culture, Mr. Caliente, a man does not stare at a woman so," Nephele scolded.



Phoenix shot a cursory glance in Troy's direction. He was blinking innocently and shifting his weight to correct a posture that had grown too relaxed.

"Is there a particular way that you would prefer me to stare at you?" His voice was placid but the midnight blue of his eyes threatened danger. It occurred to Phoenix that maybe he was missing something from this conversation.

"Not at all, if you would. I am a wife and a daughter. Maybe someday a mother. These are sacred offices, you understand. And as such, our men show a certain amount of deference. On what side of your family are you fae, Mr. Caliente?"

Phoenix's head snapped in Troy's direction. He had been acquainted with Troy from early childhood and never had this detail of his ancestry come up. Troy eased back into the chair and crossed his legs at the ankle.

"On my father's side. His great-great-grandfather was a Davenport, incidentally."



Nephele clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Well... Even so far removed, certain rudimentary practices should have been passed on to you. Did you at least receive magical instruction growing up?" Troy's eyes widened in derision.

"Oh absolutely not. My father could hardly be bothered to teach me softball, let alone whatever it is you people get up to," he said. Nephele knitted her brow and pressed her lips nearly into a pout.

"Well that is a shame. Your magic is your birthright, Mr. Caliente."



Phoenix thought to cut into the conversation here but could not imagine what he would say. Dina smirked in a sinister, Dina-like way and Phoenix could feel the sharp prongs of her personal amusement aching to lead the conversation into more treacherous territory.

"You have to understand, my dear. Troy is a skeptic and a heathen," Dina chimed. Troy shook his head.

"I think the word you're looking for, Dina, is atheist," he said.

"Oh?" Nephele's expression contorted into one of naive curiosity. Phoenix noted her eyes which were brightly colored but fully human in their construction. They drank Troy in with a wonderment usually reserved for children watching circus animals preform tricks. Troy smiled uncomfortably.



"And now Mrs. Davenport, it is my turn to ask you not to look at me that way," he said. Nephele did not break her stare.

"I've never met an atheist before," she said. Troy shrugged in response and Nephele plowed on. "Why are we here if there is no God?"

"It is an irrational jump to look at the world around you and assume that there is a why."

"Then how do you explain the fact that we exist at all?"

"Happenstance."

"Don't you find that to be an unsatisfying answer?"



"On the contrary. If I placed a tooth under my pillow tonight and found a simoleon there in the morning and you told me that a fairy who collects teeth left the money, that would be an unsatisfying answer. There is no knowledge to be had of fairies so your explanation is no information at all. On the other hand, if you told me that my wife took the tooth and switched it for the cash, that would be satisfying. Puzzling and a little intriguing but still satisfying. There is plenty of knowledge to be had about my wife and based upon that knowledge, I can deduce that it is possible though rather improbable that she would exchange my tooth with money. First we determine that a) a switch was made and that my wife exists, then b) that she made the switch. Only then can we c) ask why there was a switch at all. There are far too many assumptions being made when you start off with a why."



"And fae magic?"

"Psychokinetic abilities that result from a genetic mutation. Faes are evolutionary anomalies, Mrs. Davenport."

"And Proximus Deus?"

"Partlings like you and me, shrouded in myth and superstition."

"Troy, this conversation is getting to be rather inflammatory and insulting," Dina interjected. There was something about the look on her face that told Phoenix she was more entertained than insulted. Nephele shook her head, never daring to glance away from Troy.



"I'm not insulted. I find you interesting as a specimen and symptomatic of our increasingly secular society but I think that my faith would have to be shaken on some basic level for me to feel insulted." Troy gave her a stiff smirk.

"That was never my goal, Mrs. Davenport. Only telling you what I know and only because you asked."



Phoenix, who had all the while felt like an outside observer to the proceedings, must have done something to draw attention to himself because Nephele turned her entire body towards him, clasping her hands in her lap.

"And what do you think, Mr. Goth, as a human brought up to lead a purely secular existence?"



Phoenix almost choked. In all of his twenty-one years, never had anyone asked him such a question.

"Well I- I'm an accountant, Mrs. Davenport. All I know is numbers. I- Well I did have religious studies in school but I was about a straight C student so I can't claim to know anything about anything. I sort of vaguely remember being taught something about simultaneity and infinity that made perfect sense to me at the time and seemed to explain things but I really don't know. Now I just tell my kids that if infinity is a mathematical certitude, then we have to accept that every ascertainable truth is true for all values of 'true', that every possible occurrence will happen once."



"So if there is a God, there both wasn't and won't be?"

"I don't know. I guess it depends on how you define possibility." Nephele inclined her head towards him.

"Being an accountant makes you an peculiar sort of philosopher, Mr. Goth."



Phoenix opened his mouth and closed it again, finding only more of nothing to say.

"I have been called worse, Mrs. Davenport."