en and when he looked, Madame Cinders was being rolled into the greenhouse in a wheelchair carved as gilded and elaborately decorated as any Louis XIV throne. Attached to the wheelchair was a kind of elaborate pump system tied to an intravenous tube that slid under the rich folds of Madame Cinders sky blue hajib. The womans face was entirely hidden by the headdress. There was only an oval-shaped grid across her eyes and through it, Spyder could see nothing but darkness.
Primo walked into the center of the room and stood straight, striking an awkwardly formal pose. "This is the mistress of this house, the Last Daughter of the Moon, the protector and destroyer of Ail-Brasil, Madame Cinders. She will ask you a series of questions. You will answer these to the best of your ability. You are not permitted to question Madame Cinders at this time. If Madame decides to avail herself of your services, then questions may be asked in a less formal setting. Do you understand all these points?"
Shrike stepped toward Primos voice. Spyder let her and stood where he was, nervous, but careful not to show any emotion. He simply frowned.
"We understand," said Shrike.
Primo rubbed his hands nervously and looked at Shrike and Spyder. "There is, um, one more stipulation," he said, and reached behind an enormous elephant ear plant to pull a hidden lever set into the floor. Gears ground beneath their feet. Pistons hissed and pulleys clanked into action. From the ceiling, a gigantic metal flower lowered itself and opened slowly, like a blossom in the morning sun, to reveal dozens of serrated blades, each longer than Spyder was tall.
"Because of the delicate nature of this commission, if your services are not needed you will not, um,
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