Page 116 of Dark Alchemy: Catch 22
Losham laughed.
It started small, a chuckle that bubbled up from somewhere deep in his gut but grew quickly louder, wilder, edging toward hysteria. He laughed until his sides ached and his eyes streamed with tears that cut tracks through the dust coating his face.
Rami watched him with an expression of growing alarm. "My lord. We need to get you medical attention."
The laughter died as abruptly as it had begun. Losham wiped his face with the back of his hand, smearing blood and dust across his cheek, and turned away from the wreckage.
"Get a crew down here," he said, his voice flat. "I want this area secured. No one else enters without my permission."
"Yes, my lord. But your injuries?—"
"Are superficial." Losham started toward the stairs, his gait steadying as he walked. "Have the bodies recovered and disposed of quietly. I don't want rumors spreading about what happened here."
"What do I tell people about the explosions? They would have been heard across the compound."
Losham paused at the base of the stairs, one hand on the railing. What indeed? The story would need to be something plausible, something that explained the noise without revealing what he'd been trying to do.
"A gas leak," he said. "In the basement of the mansion. A tragic accident. Four workers dead." He glanced back at Rami, who had managed to climb to his feet despite the blood still dripping from his forehead and numerous other cuts.
"Yes, my lord."
He needed Dave to reinforce the story with compulsion, but first, he needed a stiff drink.
As Losham climbed the stairs, each step sent fresh pain through his battered body. Behind him, the dust continued to settle on his father's final victory.
Was it all gone?
Could anything be salvaged?
Had there been anything in there to begin with?
Or had Navuh played the final joke on him?
