The Necromancer's Stone; The Party, part eight

Thalia pushed the doors of the Hapsburg open as quietly as she could.  Entrances were said to be everything, but this wasn't the entrance she planned to make; this was the pre-entrance, the one used to set up everything so that the actual entrance would be perfect, with fireworks and self-operating spotlights.  She waved her hand towards the ceiling and several of the aforementioned spotlights appeared and began tracking her.  She wasn't about to pay for the damage fireworks would cause, so a set of multi-colored strobes were also conjured into position to provide supportive lighting effects, as well as a few fog machines.  It was all free, or else she'd have spared no expense. 
"I see you've begun set-up.  Any luck you could not scent the fog this year, it gave me flashbacks last time."
"I'm very sorry about that Happock.  I'll make sure not to make that mistake again, promise."
"Have fun setting up, would you like anything to drink while you take care of things?"
"No, but if you could prepare some punch for the caterers?  I expect they'll be here at five, and I plan to toast the evening before the guests arrive."
"Green or Red punch?"
"Red, and be sure to watch the toast so that you can answer the guests questions later."
"If you didn't pay me so well I'd almost think you were up to something."
"Ooh, that's good, be sure to tell them that when they ask."
Happock walked off towards the kitchens.  Thalia smiled and headed over to the ballroom to redecorate.  There were a few tables set up towards the edges, and stacks of chairs all around, nice red cushion-y ones.  windows on all sides enchanted to present an incredible view, usually seasonally appropriate.  She knew, she'd added them at the end of school party the previous year.  Today they had a view of Nepalya, looking across Honour Glen from the Imperial family's private ski cabin.  It was beautiful, snow on gray stone and the chasm below was perilous and wonderful.  She elected to start from there as a base point and began adding more rustic elements to the decorations, a large fireplace at one end of the room, hanging bundles of mountain herbs, and the faint scent of juniper wafting about the room in small, thought provoking air pockets.  She flicked her wrist and watched the curtains unfurl in red satin, then conducted a large ice sculpture of herself into existence in the middle of the room.  Thalia surveyed the room, nodding in satisfaction.
She stepped back out into the lobby and walked up to one of the mirrors, pondering the function and trying to determine the best possible outfit.  Thalia had already put on her nice silver earrings, and a ruby pendant.  She decided to stick with the red and conjured a flouncy red gown, and a set of red fabric pauldrons, not quite spiky but certainly intimidating nevertheless.  A little bit of lip gloss, some eyeliner, and she was set for the night.
"Caterers are waiting at the door.  Whatever you plan to do to the punch, do it now.  I'm going to go let them in."
That was what Thalia liked about the old dog, he didn't care that she was up to something.  Ga-Vok were like that, they were happy as long as there was food in their belly and a reason to run around afterwards.  Good and Evil were just words, and what mattered was how you treated people.  Give them a pat on the back, and maybe some more food, and they figured you couldn't be too bad.  Ignore them, mistreat them, and it didn't matter how many times you'd saved the world, they wouldn't stand for it.  Thalia could respect that.  Not to say she always treated everyone well, but not everyone was Ga-Vok.  There were bad people out there, and she happened to enjoy giving them their due.
And sometimes that meant spiking the punch.  She plucked a small vial of potion, carefully prepared the previous evening, and uncorked it over the punch.  She'd made it potent enough to work on a hundred people on twelve hours.  She doubted there would be a hundred of them, but it still wouldn't be enough to kill anyone.  And if it did, she'd have plenty of people willing to take the blame for it in her stead.  She'd done enough research, made the right investments, and memorized enough alibis that she could actually gain a great deal from any of the wait staff turning up dead on the boss's watch.  But she'd rather it didn't come to that.  She poured it into the punch and slipped it into subspace just as Happock showed them all in.  Now everything was prepared for the party.