Cassandra Pendragon
"I… all hells, even if I was, it'd be none of your damned business, would it," I replied sharply.
"No, I suppose it wouldn't, but my curiosity is understandable, isn't it?" He didn't sound contrite, not in the least. "I mean, how often do you hear of the appearance of a creature from the mists of myth and legend?" He was carefully putting away his bucket and approached me slowly, his fingers twitching. "Incidentally, you're not human, either, are you? Since were on topic, what are you, then?"
"Mightily irritated, that's what I am. How on Gaya did you come to think, I'd answer that?"
"A bit defensive aren't, we?" He was already close enough to touch me, but I steadfastly refused to back up. "Are you, perhaps, a relative of the enchanted elf? Your voice, your smell… I can just about picture a tall, slender elven princess in front of me." I paused and then I chuckled heartily, my tension evaporating. And here I was, thinking I had, again, stumbled into someone who was much more than he appeared. But no, that guy was just an idiot. A greedy one.
"And I assume you're toying with the idea of maybe abducting me and either selling me on the market, or, if I'm lucky, demand a ransom?" Now he was smiling toothlessly.
"Oh no, my dear. I was just thinking that, since you so willingly handed me a gold coin, you're bound to have some more. I can't imagine you want your story told around here or even on the Emerald Island. I, of course, can stay quiet, but that's going to cost you."
"So… you're actually trying to blackmail me? Maybe you're not as moronic as I thought, but you're still so… well, you definitely fit right in, with the others I've met. All right, let's cut to the chase, then. You're not talking to a lost elven princess, but to a kitsune, you know the species, the Mask belonged to? Incidentally, since we're on topic, I'm the one who scattered his essence across Free Land, probably curing some of your ailments along the way. I'm on the verge of killing a few of the Captains, one's already ash, but hey, who's counting, right? Afterwards, I intend to make sure this lice ridden, good for nothing, hell hole of a place doesn't fall prey to a literal demon from hell, even if I have to drag your sorry asses, kicking and screaming, along the way. So please, threaten me again. But I assure you, you won't like the answer." It was almost funny to watch his expression shift, while I spoke. At first, he didn't believe me, but the minuscule trace of transcendent energy, I eventually used to bolster my voice, convinced him quickly enough. Then, his colour changed. First, he became white like a sheet, then almost green, a bit like a sick frog, and ultimately he turned a marvellous shade of lilac, more like a flower than a human.
"I…I," he stammered, edging away from me, much too fast to be inconspicuous. "I…I didn't…"
"Know," I interrupted him, "think, mean it? Guess what, I don't care. I've already had a shitty night and being blackmailed by a stupid zookeeper just about takes the biscuit. Shall I show you, how to threaten someone, appropriately? Watch me: you and I are going to browse through your cellar and I'll decide what I'm going to take, aside from the almanac." I wrapped my knuckles against the book. "Should you, driven by whatever insanity, lie to me, speak about what happened here to another soul or omit anything important, I'm going to drag your blind ass to the harbour and throw you off the cliff. If you're really lucky, you'll hit a ship on your way down, but I'll try to aim properly. Now then, what's it going to be?" His vocabulary hadn't improved with his current circumstances.
"I… uh… I'll…," already peeved, I dashed forward and grabbed him by the collar.
"An answer, now, or we're going to find out, how well humans fly. I don't really think you have it in you, but it's not the first time I've been wrong. Usually you don't exceed expectations, though. You fall short by a mile." That got his attention and he immediately started nodding.
"Yes. Yes, of course, I… whatever you say." His colour was slowly returning to a paler version of his original tone, but he was sweating profusely. Maybe I had overdone it with the amount of power I had used. But this whole situation was truly infuriating.
"I can… do you want gold? I've got a few coins up here. There's not much down there, only a few of my… experiments and some books on alchemy. I can't imagine you're interested in them."
"I'll be the judge of that. And experiments? What kind of experiments?" If he was going to say hybridisation with sentient species, I'd kill him, for real. Up until now, I had been posturing, but…
"I'm crossbreeding the bats. While the largest ones can carry a passenger, when fully grown, they can't stay airborne for more than half a day. There are much more tenacious species out there and I'm trying…," I was only listening halfheartedly. Maybe I was becoming a tad paranoid.
"Fine," I interrupted his monologue about bat husbandry. "I still want to see. Go on, then. Lead the way. I want to see your books. I'm a bit of a magpie, myself, maybe you've got something that interests me." He wasn't happy, but a hissed: "now," my voice thrumming with power again, made him move. Much less vigorously than he had made his way down to me, his shoulders stooped and his head hanging low, he lead me past the counter and down the stairs, illuminated by a flickering light at their bottom.
The old, wooden steps creaked ominously beneath our feet. Roughly placed stones barely held back the earth and here and there, mouldy spots spread along the walls, like tracery. It was surprisingly cold and my fur rose, whether from the temperature or excitement, I couldn't say. Every step stirred up swaths of a strange, almost medicinal smell, which had seeped into every brick and plank. A mixture of herbs, thyme, rosemary and valerian, I recognised, paired with blood and excrements. The typical stench I'd have expected, if I had been encroaching on the lair of an evil alchemist. The alchemist in question, luckily, didn't quite fit the bill.
By now, Zuma appeared to have accepted his misfortune and was guiding me with the mien of someone, who had already counted his losses. Without resistance, he waddled down the stairs and opened a rather sturdy door. His… laboratory was a bit of a letdown. Three shabby tables carried a few vials, instruments, lit candles and a plentiful assortment of different herbs, as well as a section, covered with a stained cloth. Cages, filled with small, sleeping bats, were haphazardly piled against the walls, the beasts waking up the very moment my new friend opened the door. Their shrieks seemed to pierce directly through my skull and the echo, thrown back form the staircase, we had just left, made it so much worse. Hissing, I covered my ears and tried to ignore the almost lethal cacophony.
On first glance, it seemed like Zuma hadn't lied to me. There was nothing extraordinary or interesting about his cellar and the handful of tomes, I glimpsed amidst the various herbs, were truly nothing I cared for. Judging from the symbols on their covers, at least the ones I recognised, it was basic alchemy and a treatise on reproduction. Slowly, I stepped closer, carefully avoiding the bat droppings on the floor and removed the cloth. What I saw nearly made me retch.
A half decayed corpse of a pregnant bat had been meticulously dissected, an unborn embryo clearly visibly amidst its innards. "By the Great Fox, why? How?" I whispered. "You can't even see…" and I had thought, those bats hatched from eggs.
"But I can touch and smell," he shrugged. "I told you, I'm trying to create a new subspecies. Every single one has been born dead. I wanted to know why and thought, maybe, there was something going wrong in the egg. This one was alive, as far as I could tell, but the mother didn't make it."
"And then you cut her open," I asked, shuddering.
"She was already gone and the baby wouldn't have survived for more than another minute or two. I'll try again and keep a closer eye on the parent. If I can get her to survive an unnatural pregnancy, I hope the youngling will be healthy as well."
"Unnatural? How…"
"That's… oh, by the nine hells, I've got one artefact, one. Please, don't take it from me. It'd be useless to you, anyways. It allows me to combine the essence of two species, which can then be introduced, either into an egg or a carrier. I assume, since those bats aren't naturally equipped to carry their young, the mother died. Next time, I'll try it with a mammal." There was so much wrong with an artefact like that, I couldn't even begin to spell it out. But when there's a useful tool, someone, somewhere will find a way to use it in the most heinous way possible and magic was unbelievably easy to abuse.
"I want to see it," I said, more calmly then I actually felt. I wasn't yet sure if I was going to leave such a tool in the hands of a dubious blackmailer in the murk of Free Land, but I knew one thing for certain. That was the kind of magic, that took ages to learn. I couldn't even image which spells were needed to make it work, not to mention weaving them into an item. How, on Gaya, did Zuma get his hands on it?
He grudgingly replied: "I don't store it here. It's upstairs, where I can keep an eye on it."
"I see. Where did you get it? You can't have bought it, it would be worth more than your house."
"No need to insult me. And no, I didn't. I… it was a loan. Look, I would tell you, but the one I got it from scares me more than you. You seem somewhat… restraint. He isn't. If it's him or the cliff, I think I'm going to take the cliff."
"Really now? Maybe I'll have to get a bit more creative? Ah, whom am I kidding… I'm not going to stoop that low. Still… you are going to show me the artefact and anything else you've got stored away, around here. Otherwise I might just forget myself." Besides, there were only a handful of people with that kind of power and I was willing to bet I could find out which one had been helping him, even without his compliance. I chuckled darkly, partly for the effect, but also because all of this could have been avoided if he just had behaved decently. He'd have made a pretty penny and I wouldn't have been the wiser. The little things…
"Well then, let's go," I said and propelled him towards the door.
Once we reached the ground floor, the nasty smells and headache inducing cries died away and when we climbed up the stairs to, what I assumed, were Zuma's living quarters, the atmosphere became almost pleasant. Gone were the flickering candle lights, the creepy mould and the rough stones. Instead, sunlight came through small but clean windows, placed beside a well built door with a heavy lock. My guide rummaged in his pockets for a big, iron key. The bolts were sturdy enough, that I could hear them slide aside when he opened up.
On the other side, a tidy flat awaited us. Two rooms, separated by a wooden screen, were furnished rather luxuriously. Dark woods, glowing warmly in the morning sun, made the massive cupboard, bed and table appear homely, instead of oppressive. The walls were plastered with shelfs, containing scrolls and trinkets, as well as a surprising amount of dried and fresh flowers which filled the room with a fresh, relaxing smell. Marigold, violets and a variety of lilies made me feel like I had just entered a glen, somewhere in the wilds.
Zuma didn't spare me a further glance and headed directly for a large, oaken chest, shoved against the back wall, just below the largest window. He produced a second, much more finely crafted, key and busied himself unlocking the thing while I carefully stepped closer, still struggling to combine the images of the gruesome laboratory below, his backhanded character and the scenery up here.
When he finally pushed open the heavy, reinforced lid, I saw a collection of veritable junk. Broken tokens of his past, letters, damaged instruments and a few sets of fine clothes were jumbled up with vials of rarer ingredients, a few notebooks and a handful of smaller, wooden boxes. He picked one of them and turned around on the spot, arm outstretched.
"That's it. Have a look, but please, don't destroy it on a whim. You might just as well kill me, then and get it over with. I'd actually much prefer that outcome to dealing with…"
"Yes? You were saying?"
"Very funny. Here." The box itself wasn't remarkable, on first glance. There were no inlaid runes or gilded ornaments, for all intent and purposes, it was just a small, wooden box. As soon as I touched it, though, I had to change my mind. A surge of purple light engulfed me for the fraction of a second and I felt my skin tingle under the magical onslaught. I couldn't be certain, but I was convinced I had just activated a trap, design to either kill or incapacitated anyone, but the rightful owner, who touched the thing.
As the magic dissipated against my skin, the smell of ozone welled up and I couldn't suppress a crooked smile while Zuma's expression again raced through a fascinating plethora of emotions. Surprise, fear, uncertainty and finally, undiluted panic. At least I had been right in that regard. I wasn't supposed to be standing anymore.
For a moment, I toyed with the idea of ignoring the whole incident. Seeing how he'd react, if I carried on as if nothing had happened, might be worth it. But then again, I had already warned him and as everyone was taught in politics for beginners 101, following through with threats was the most important part of gaining credibility. Consequently, I allowed a hint of my anger and power to leak into my voice as I said:
"I'll give you one chance, exactly one, before I'm going to burn you to a crisp. Who gave you this box? Is there even an artefact inside or was it all made up?" He didn't hear me.
"You…how…what?" He wasn't making much sense but I still got the message. I grinned widely.
"I told you. Did you think I'd be waging war against a devil, if I wasn't able to fight back? You've no idea who's come into your shop, but yet you've treated me like a present, all wrapped up for your birthday. I'm done. You were right, I'm not in the habit of using my strength against humans, but for you, I'm truly prepared to make an exception. It's up to you, now, to convince me not to."
"What are you," he finally whispered, his fingers pinched around his arms.
"Powerful, more so than your ominous friend. That's all that should matter to you. Now speak up."
"I… yes, it is in there," he finally replied, defeatedly. "Open it, you'll see. As for who gave it to me… I don't know his name, just as I don't know yours. He came into my shop, claimed he had heard about my studies and wanted to help. I was suspicious, of course, but his insights were priceless. A few visits later, he already knew his way around my cellar and when he offered me the device," he gestured towards the box, "I couldn't resist. It came at a price, of course. Ever since, I've been working for him, much more so than for myself."
"And I'm supposed to believe, you didn't find out who he truly is, in all that time," I stared darkly, while I carefully opened the wooden box. Inside, I saw a syringe, nestled onto a bed of crimson velvet. The runes, I had expected on the outside, had been carved into the lid, but their power was spent and they only shimmered dully. Those on the glass of the instrument, though, crackled with energy. Spiral upon spiral, they circle around the corpus, a testament to the skill and strength of the one who had created it.