City of the Snakes

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The City could not have been built without all of the architects and tradespeople of the Christopher Little crew

The Cardinal is dead — long live The Cardinal!”

Cathal Sampedro and the three other men in my office applaud soundly as Gico Carl makes the toast. They’re all grinning inanely — they love me to death. I smile obligingly and tip my crystal glass to Gico’s. I’m not a champagne man by nature, but when the occasion calls for it…

“Ten years, Capac,” Gico beams, licking his lips nervously. I pretend not to notice the giveaway gesture. “Seems like only yesterday.”

This is boring. I know they’re here to kill me. I wish they’d stop wasting my time with small talk and just get on with it.

“Remember the night…,” Cathal begins and I tune out. Cathal has the gift of making the most fascinating anecdote sound incredibly dull. His stories are best ignored if possible, and since I’m The Cardinal, lord of the city, I can ignore anyone I damn well please.

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