Among his many hobbies, Adam had constructed a miniature model of the house. It was a part of a whole miniature town, that was built on the table in the attic.
I had spent most of the time waiting for Lydia and her family to arrive in the attic. The model of the town was one more interesting thing in the room. There were also Adam's and Barbara's other hobbies: pottery, yarn spinning and so…
The miniature house floating in front of me was not it. Although it was still in the attic, the table with the original model was pushed to the side. Archer did it, at my request. My hands were occupied.
It was an interesting experience, walking while using Cat's Cradle. But necessary, the dining room was quite unsuitable to be the final room.
The object floating before me was this house, just from another perspective. If one could zoom in, one would see me standing in this room with the miniature house floating in front of me. And in it, there was also me and also the floating miniature house. And so on. I had twisted space, so the house existed within itself. How to explain?
In mathematics, a Möbius strip, Möbius band, or Möbius loop is a surface that can be formed by attaching the ends of a strip of paper together with a half-twist. What is interesting is when embedded into Euclidean space, the Möbius strip has only one side. Travel along with it and eventually, you will end where you started just on the opposite side of the strip. Walk some more and you right back where you started.
This was similar, just in more dimensions. If I was to ask Archer to fire an arrow through the window outside, it would emerge from the miniature one. On the other hand, if he was to fire an arrow at the target on the miniature it would hit the intended target in the house.
Such experiments would not result in either a giant or a miniature arrow. The objects within were not small, just distant.
That was one of the powers of Cat's Cradle although a lesser one.
The first known reference to the term Cat's Cradle could be found in "The light of Nature Pursued" written by Abraham Tucker in 1768.
To quote it: "An ingenious play they call cat's cradle; one ties the two ends of a packthread together, and then winds it about his fingers, another with both hands takes it off perhaps in the shape of a gridiron, the first takes it from him again in another form, and so on alternately changing the packthread into a multitude of figures whose names I forget, it being so many years since I played at it myself."
Of course, I was talking about a spell using True Magic, not a children's game. But there had been a reason why I had named it such.
Cat's Cradle was a topological spell, by which using sympathetic properties, I could change the local topology by forming string figures in my hands. And not just in four dimensions.
I should more strongly define what I meant by dimensions. The simplest definition is that the dimension of a particular mathematical space is the least number of coordinates needed to describe a point with it. In this case, mathematical space was nothing less than a model of reality itself.
I will start with the basics. A simple dot. Zero dimension. Add length and we get a line. Add with we get plane. Add depth and we get a space. Allow space to change and we get time. That is four. But having a singular timeline is a domain of priests. A God's Divine Plan. An intuitive model is an immutable past, and changeable future, where now is defined as a moment where one turns into another. But nature loves symmetries. So why is the past different from the future? One answer would be entropy, but we will leave that at the moment.
Another answer would be that it isn't. So have a model where many possible pasts intersect with many possible futures in now. That opens a possibility that such numerous pasts and futures interject in other potential moments, the alternate now. That was not the Kaleidoscope, but it was the beginning of it.
From my experience, some of those alternatives seemed less than real, shadows on the wall of reality. But that might have been just my perspective. Many truths we hold dear are solely dependent on our point of view. Perhaps from some other perspective, my own reality may seem just as unreal.
And there are things like Texture.
But that was just adding whole numbers. Adding fractions and irrational numbers for fractal dimensions like Astral Plane, or even an imaginary number for Imaginary Numbers Space.
I have just barely begun to starch the surface of it.
Diamonds. Cat's Eye. Soldier's Bed. Diamonds.
Each string figure was like a function that transformed local topology. Or in another perspective, each figure was a word in command in a programming language that defined local reality.
Finding what each figure did required quite a bit of experimentation. It was complicated because transitions mattered. And small variations could, but not necessarily would create a big difference. The Otherworld really helped. It allowed me to observe non-standard space. I missed it. I hope it had not been destroyed.
Archer joined me. He was no longer wearing the meat suit. I must say I did like him better this way. I would have done the same, but the ritual required me to keep Charles for a little while.
"Didn't we agree to wait until after the dinner?" he asked.
"And I said timing dependent on Lydia," I replied while forming figure after figure. I needed to twist the house into the required shape. With the Candle, the basement protruded under the house, connected by three twisting stairways, the central one leading to part of the dining room. "Speaking of her let's see what she was up to."
From our perspective, there were no walls in the basement, just floor, and stairs. For those in the sex dungeon, it should be different. Like the attic, it should have looked mostly the same. Unless one looked through the window. Unfortunately for potential voyeurs, the basement windows were covered when the room had been transformed into a sex dungeon.
Adam and Barbara were floating in the binding circle, while Lydia was standing next to them talking to them.
I could barely see them; they were so small. They looked like little dolls, barely the size of a finger. But their voices were audible and understandable if a bit squeaky. I had no explanation for that. I thought that they would just sound from far away, if audible at all. And if there was some strange reason for the Doppler Effect, why did it change only the sound, and not the light too?
More experiments would be needed in the future.
"And that is how I ended here," Lydia just finished recapping what had happened at dinner. It seemed that we did not miss much.
I began the deconstruction of the first floor. I pulled the floors, walls, furniture, stairs, windows, and doors all apart. From my point of view. If there was an observer in that particular room, he would not have perceived that anything changed.
"Your father is possessed?" Barbara asked.
"Who would do something horrible like that?" Adams asked.
"There was this boy ghost with a fancy riding crop. His name started with M, but I just can't remember it." Lidia said.
"I know who you mean. His little friend calls him Master, but I am sure that it is not his real name," Barbara said.
"Like the villain from Doctor Who?" Lydia asked. "Wait! There was something strange about the conversation during dinner. He was a little too convincing."
"Usually you are a bit more subtle, Master," Archer whispered in my ear. His breath tingled my ear. It was cold.
I would have replied, but Lydia continued speaking so I focused on her.
"Maybe he was hypnotizing everyone. And he stopped time. Could he really be Master? Are aliens real?"
"No. You will not dress in full Time Lord ceremonial dress robes just to mess with her," Archer whispered to me. He knew me too well. When we still lived in Japan I had convinced our delivery boy that I was part of the vampire mafia, just for fun. That was blatantly untrue. My sister was a vampire and the criminals I had connections with were yakuza.
"So, you remember the show?" I whispered back. They shouldn't be able to hear us, but why risk it?
"You literally tied me up and made me watch it."
"I needed my favorite footstool."
"I think that Master has more to with this dungeon he built unless your father was into that," Barbara said.
"How could I know that? It is not something that comes in casual father-daughter talk," Lydia said, paused for a moment, and then added. "There is someone I could ask. And perhaps she could help, or at least tell what to do."
"Who?"
"Dead Mom."
"Isn't she, well, dead?"
"So are you. I am going to call her right now." I suppose she took out the smartphone then, but she was too small to properly see it. "Hi. Mom."
"No. Don't hang up."
"Please! I promise. I promise that I won't kill myself to join you in the Netherworld."
"Dad got possessed!"
"Any ghost can do that? In less than one easy lesson. Any way to free him?"
"That won't work."
"I don't know the ghost's name. Well, unless Master is it."
"Yes, like the villain from Doctor Who. I miss watching it with you. Dad is just not interested. Are aliens real?"
"I see. We can hope. It would be sad if we were alone in the universe."
"Weird question. Would Dad build a sex dungeon?"
"I will call again when free Dad. Buy mom." Then she slumped and sat on the floor.
"What did she say?" Barbara asked.
"She never saw an alien, but the Netherworld is just too big," Lydia said.
"No, about your dad," Barbara further asked.
"Sex dungeon is definitely Master's work, and she has no idea how to free Dad," Lydia answered.
"Lydia, not that I mind hanging with you, but could try to let us down?" Adam added.
"How?"
"Perhaps by removing those candles?"
The level above the basement was finished. The room in the center, the dining room, was a bit lower than the ones on the left and right, which were on the same level. From the center room protruded three sets of stairs one to each of the rooms on the left and the right and one upwards to the roof. The left and right rooms were connected by the hallway. And two new sets of stairs from the left and right room to the roof. I was running out of existing stairways. I would have to improvise.
"Would that work," Archer whispered to me.
"No," I whispered back, "And she won't be able to touch the candles either. Not without dispelling protections first."
Lydia yelped in pain. It was very high-pitched. As I said, nothing she could do. I made sure.
"Perhaps you should leave it alone," Barbara said sounding concerned. It was hard to tell with her voice being so squeaky.
I raised two more rooms each right above those left and right of the dining room. Then I began connecting them. One stairway from each of the rooms directly below, one from the roof, and a hallway between them. Once I ran out of existing stairs, I began to repurpose extra rooms, and walls to make makeshift ones. After all, I needed only ten rooms, and that counted in the basement and the roof. I twisted and broke off pieces, and yet they were still whole. Hard to describe in merely three dimensions. But once someone walked on them it would be quite a sight to see, from those rooms.
"I can't just leave you like this!" Lydia exclaimed. "And there is nothing useful in Handbook for Recently Deceased Kinde edition. I have found a ritual to summon the dead, but there is nothing on barriers."
"What is Kindle?" Barbara asked.
"I have no idea. Must be some occult phrase. This computer-phone thing I am borrowing is very confusing."
"Where did you get it?" Barbara asked.
"From Master," Lydia answered.
"And what he asked for it?"
"Just that invite him in. This is all my fault isn't it," Lydia said, "I just wanted my dead mom. And his request seemed so trivial. He was already in the house, why it would matter if I had invited him in? What am I to do? I can't fix this."
"Then get help," Adam suggested.
"Who? You are trapped, and I do not think Dalia would be of any use."
"There are more ghosts in the house," Adam said. "One I hope that can help, but it won't be free."
"You can't mean that needy pervert," Barbara returned, "Why should we expose Lydia to him."
"He may dangerously unstable individual, but he seems to know what he is doing. And we do not have any other choice."
"What about Archer? He seemed like such a nice boy."
"You know he and Master are like that. Not that anything wrong with it, but he is unlikely to help against Master."
"Who is Archer?" Lydia asked.
"Another ghost who appears the same age as the Master. They are… close. But the one you should seek is Beetlejuice," Adam said.
"Beetlejuice!?"
"Yes, another ghost. He should still be somewhere in the house," Adam said.
"Unless he left," Barbara added, "He seemed pretty disappointed in us."
"We can only hope that he is still here," Adam said, "Because I have no other idea."
"How will recognize him?"
"That would not be a problem," Barbara said.
"He is particular," Adam explained, "You will recognize on sight. Look for something rotten. And stripped. And green."
"I am looking for a moldy zebra corpse?" Lydia asked.
"He is more human-looking, but that is not a bad description," Adam said
"Try the roof. He likes the roof," Barbara added.
"Then I am going now. Which stairs lead to the roof?"
"What do you mean? There is only one stairway from here and it leads straight to the kitchen."
"There are three sets of stairs. See."
"That's new."
"Did you two that ghost could do that? Just change the house like that."
"No. And there was nothing remotely similar in our haunting lessons."
"Perhaps it was advanced material. We haven't been exactly star pupils."
"I can only hope. Middle stars look like the ones I fell through. I will be taking them. Wish me luck."
"Good luck."
"Break your leg."
"Adam, she not going to star in a play."
And while she was climbing the stairs, I quickly checked the other "guests". It would be best if I could have gotten rid of extras, but Lydia made me work ahead of schedule. Archer had been right. Not only I had to waste time and Od to adjust their minds, but it was also inelegant to add uninvolved people to my ritual.
Still, if they had to be here, mostly because I had no time to properly remove them, I had found some use for them as a further anchor base for ritual. Maxie and his pack of lawyers were in the room I had slated to take place in second from bottom in the leftmost row. The domain of Mars was the place of lust and suffering. It was appropriate. Maxie's lust for flesh was not remarkable, but his lust for money could not be sated. And if gained money inflicted suffering, that made it just so much sweeter for Maxie.
Maxine was in the first room from the bottom in the right column. This was the domain of black Venus, the hollow love.
Dean the cook, the meat suit that Archer had abandoned, was, at my partner's request, excluded from the rite. He was unconscious in the kitchen, which I also didn't use. Archer didn't like it when I disturbed the kitchen.
And for Delia, Lydia was heading right to her. It was a bit of a risk, to set a replacement for a wife in the sphere that was ruled by First Woman. But this was Lydia's journey, and from that perspective, it worked. As I have said, many truths depend on a point of view.
"Dalia! Father is possessed."
"How hurtful of you. You just cannot stand to see me happy."
"What does have to do with you? Father is possessed by a malevolent spectral entity."
"I guess I should give a call to my guru Otho."
"Your guru performs exorcisms?'
"Yes. And they are also free. Well, free for paying customers. Although I would need to pay him extra to come to Connecticut. Charles' idea may be smart, I don't know much about real estate, but there are inconveniences with living in the middle of nowhere. Do you want an exorcism, Lydia? I had two or three and they made me feel much better."
"Not for me. For dad. Are even listening to me?"
"I am always listening to you. I am after all paid to do it. Well, at least I was. Now I am just obliged. But Lydia I don't think that Charles would allow himself to be exorcised."
Five stairways connected the roof to everything above it. Two hallways for linking two levels. Completing the left and right path of stairs leading here from the basement, passing through each room on the columns. And it was done. Everything that was needed was connected in proper shape. I freed my hands and paced the cup under the basement.
"Done," I whispered to Archer, "We just have to wait now."
"Of course, he wouldn't. He is possessed!" Lydia exclaimed. "We would have to tie him up and force him."
"Lydia! Young lady, Charles is your father, you should not be thinking of restraining him. Also, consent matters. If they say no, you have to respect that. Man can get raped too."
"What!?
"As his fiancé, only I am allowed to tie Charles to the bed and do unspeakable things to him, or vice versa. Unless we are having a threesome, but I had a bad experience with that. It started fun, but it ended with my husband and his boyfriend buying a boat and sailing to Rome. Without me."
"Fiancé!?" Lydia exclaimed.
"Fiancé?" Archer whispered in my ear, his voice almost a growl. He was so hot when he was angry.
"It was what Charles would have wanted," I explained also in a whisper, "He was almost ready to do it. And I needed an excuse to give her a ring."
"I thought you knew," Dalia replied to Lydia, "With all of this talk about Charles being possessed."
"I don't like it," Archer continued whispering while we watched the drama unfold, "I think that whole possession thing was a mistake. Not that I had a better plan. About that ring…"
"Because he is really possessed!" Lydia shouted.
"You are very insistent about that."
"Yes. Because we have to do something about it. I have to do something about it. Why am I wasting time here? You are of no help. You never are," Lydia said and ran off upward using the middle stairway. Nice, she was going in the right direction.
I turned my head and looked at Archer, "It is so weak, that it should be safe for her to handle."
"The best way not to feel guilt is not to shower one you have hurt with gifts. It is not to hurt them in the first place," Archer said.
"It is not a matter of guilt, but of reciprocity. To do otherwise is to create an imbalance. For those who have skill or talent is a weakness to be exploited. Ethics exist because they work, not because people have a good nature."
"So cynical. But don't you have regrets?"
"It is a bit too late now. We have done too much to abandon this path."
"That sounds suspiciously like Sunk Cost Fallacy."
I thought about what he said. This was not the only path. Once I had convinced Lydia to say my name three times, there were other, slower paths. But I had been impatient. I still was. There was a reason why the first piece of advice Handbook of Recently Deceased was to travel immediately to the Netherworld. The dead were not meant to linger in the living world. But that was a one-way trip, and I was not yet ready for it.
"It's not possible to complete the rite without you," I replied, "If you refuse to participate, I have no choice but to look for another path to rebirth."
"You really must hate being a ghost. Well, it brings bad memories to me too. We will finish this. Look, she had arrived on the roof."
I turned back. Here she was, climbing the stairs. It didn't take her long to find the other occupant of the roof.
"Are you Beetlejuice?"
"A living person. Can you… see me?"
"Is there anyone else here? I did call you by name if that is your name. You do look like Adam's description. White and black, moldy and rotten."
"You CAN see me!!" Betelgeuse shouted. "I am gonna have a new best friend!!! So!! Living girl, what brings you to the roof?"
"I was looking for you. I need your help."
"You have come seeking me for help? That is a first. Not that I am not a helpful sort of person. It is just… Usually, I need manipu… convince people to let me help them."
"Adam and Barbara recommended you."
"What a surprise! Those two did not turn completely useless."
"They are my friends!"
"You have a weird taste for friends. But that is to be expected of my new bestie! So bestie, what I can do for you: exterminate, assassinate, or can I say it mass murder?"
"I need you to save my dad."
"Save your father? No one ever wanted me to save someone. This is the day for firsts. Maybe I will even lose my virginity."
"I didn't need to know that."
"Friends share things, bestie. Who do I need to kill to save your father?"
"That won't work. Master is already dead."
"Master?"
"A boy ghost. Really pretty. Has a riding crop."
"I know who are you talking about. I just didn't think it was his actual name. Figured it was BDSM thing."
Actually, it was a habit from, let's call it Holy Grails Campaign. Using Servant class as a name was just common sense. Famous heroes often come with equally famous weaknesses. And once we traveled to alternate Holy Grail Wars, it was good policy to conceal my name too. Especially if there had been another Tohsaka Rin already there, occasionally as Master, and often female.
It had become such a habit, that we both called each such even in private. He did use the name Rin for me, occasionally. I never used Shirou for him. He did not like to be reminded of that.
"Master is possessing my dad."
"Possession is a skill that any ghost can learn in less than one easy lesson. Getting him our father would be hard, but I am up to it. I know what I am doing. I have watched Exorcist thirty times. Such a funny movie. Just need a small, nearly insignificant favor from you."
"Let me guess. I need to say your name three times in a row."
"That is correct! But how do you know that? Have been studying Black Arts? You do look like someone who is into that sort of a thing."
"Master asked me the same thing."
"Well, good thing you said no, or he would be much harder to deal with."
"I didn't say no."
"At least you didn't sell your father to him. Did you?'
"Of course, I did not!"
So, she has yet to realize that she has sold her father for a smartphone. Hopefully, she never would. And not just because we had agreed to a return policy.
"Wait if you have invited Master in, that means that I had lost the bet I made with him. I owe him a favor. Potential sexual favor. Do you think he would demand that I become his sex slave? No one ever wanted me as their sex slave. I am both afraid and aroused. Enough about me, let's talk about us. My name three times, and we are ready to go."
A small pause and then, he continued, "Please don't make me beg. I will, I just, OKAY FINE I WILL. OKAY? I am SO sick and tired of being invisible and you, you can change all of that!"
"Don't make me regret this. Beetlejuice…"
"Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!!"
"Beetlejuice!"
"We are gonna make such a great team! Give me just one... more..."
"Beetlejuice!!"
"It's a SHOW TIME. Are you ready to ride my giant snake?"
And then he turned into a stripped snake with a human's, his own, head. It may have been a giant from Lydia's perspective, but where I was looking, he was more like a garter snake. It was not that he was tiny, it was just that he was far away.
"It worked," I whispered in surprise while Lydia was climbing onto Betelgeuse-snake. "The makeshift grail had registered those two as the second pair of contestants."
"Wait," Archer whispered back, "Why do you sound so surprised?"
"I was hoping that it would work. And divinations pointed towards yes. But considering materials, work conditions and time I spent on it even managing this much is a miracle."
"So why?"
"Because I wanted to see if it would work."
"Sometimes I forget that you are first-rate Magus, but you always manage to remind me of the fact." I smiled, but then he continued, "That is not a good thing."
"They are coming here? I thought they would free Adam and Barbara first. I guess Lydia forgot. Well, that makes things simpler. Give a proper greeting for our guests, my Archer."
"Trace On: Key of Providence."
A Black Key. A sacrament of the Church, mostly used against spiritual entities. The Mages Association classified sacraments as a variant of Kabalistic Magecraft. Holly Roman Church considered such classifications yet another heresy. After all, they called magical energy prayer power.
In appearance, it was a slender rapier-like sword with a blade measuring just a little over one meter and an extremely short hilt. That was before Archer altered it into an arrow. As an arrow, it looked a bit like a giant needle, long and thin, without any arrowheads.
The door shattered, revealing the now giant Betelgeuse's face, his mouth opened in something between a grin and a yawn, rotting yellow teeth prominently displayed.
Archer fired the Black Key arrow, sinking into the monster's shadow and stopping in his tracks.
It may have stopped him, but his rider was still subject to inertia. Lydia was launched right into the miniature house.
I didn't exactly know what would have happened if she hit it. According to my best estimate, she should have just landed in another part of the house. But this was not the time to run such an experiment.
So intercepted her, catching her.
"Pumpkin, you should wear a helmet when riding," I said to her while holding her in my arms, in a princess carry, "You don't want to end like Maxine."
She struggled and hit me on the head a few times, yelling, "Let me go!"
Meanwhile, Archer was shooting so many arrows at Betelgeuse's giant head, that he was beginning to look like a pincushion.
"He, he, he," the big head giggled and added, "That tickles."
It was a work in progress. The local variety of ghosts was rather hard to harm, except by exorcism. And that would not suit our purpose at all.
"As you wish," I said dropping her on the floor.
And then the lights went out. The blackness was deep and cloying. I couldn't see through it, but there was something in there. Just glimpsed, from the edge of my eyes.
It was a clever way to get rid of the shadow. More clever than I expected of him.
"Kal," I commanded in Elvish, and the bright light shone from my right hand. No other weapon I had in my arsenal was as potent against the darkness as the Deep Lore.
Even so, the light dispersed the unnatural darkness only in a sphere about two meters in diameter. The darkness seethed looking like a swarm of black smoke beetles.
"Mind if I cut in!" Betelgeuse shouted, and I could see him charring his lips parted in a demented grin. He was wielding a massive, rusted cleaver in both of his arms.
I brought forth mercury. From my left hand, I flicked a whip of razor-sharp liquid metal, ripping his bloated belly. From it poured a flood of rot and vermin. Snake, beetles, and rats, all wearing his face.
"You should not neglect your current dance partner," I commented.
Immediately after, the rain of the black iron needles fell on the vermin tide, expertly pining each and every one of them, turning the critters into a macabre display.
Betelgeuse's empty skin tried to crawl away. Archer shot at wiggling skin with numerous black iron arrow-swords. He twisted in unnatural shapes dodging most of them and managing to avoid being pinned until it ran under the model table.
The larger, more ornate arrow struck the table. The glowing crack on the arrow was quite familiar to me. Overcharge of magical energy.
With a simple gesture, I summoned the hemispherical shield of mercury, covering me and Lydia. Just in time to protect us from the explosion. Poor Adam, he had spent so much time on that model of the town.
"Are you all right down there, Lydia?" I asked.
"You are going to lose," Lydia growled from the floor, "Beetlejuice will kick your ass."
"Such faith in someone you have just met," I replied, "Medusa, Medea, Vlad the Impaler, Gilgamesh… Those are just a few that Archer had ended at my command. Little Star has no chance."
"I seem to have blasted him outside," Archer spoke, coming near us.
"There is no outside," I said. Looking at the floating miniature it did not take me long to locate him. "He is in the third-floor corridor."
"There is no third floor in this house," Lydia said, standing up.
"There is now," I said pointing towards the floating miniature. "I have redecorated."
"That… that makes no sense!"
"Is he bothering Maxie now?" I asked. "Can you yank him back here, Archer?"
"How?"
"Do you have a harpoon arrow or something like that?"
"Harpoon-arrow?"
Why did he sound so incredulous? He had enough trick arrows that he could cosplay as Green Arrow.
"It's... it's…" Lydia mumbled. "it's bigger on the inside."
"There is no inside," I said, rolling my eyes. Was that so hard to grasp? It was a simple example of higher-dimension non-Euclidean geometry. No inside, no outside, just the house, separated from the World, both the Living Word and the Netherworld. "He is finally climbing back. Ready for round two?"
"You really are the Master!"
Archer said that I shouldn't do this, but after that line, how could I resist?
"Can you hear them… the sound of drums?"
One, two, three, four. A never-ending drumbeat echoed through the whole house. The ghost powers made such things very easy. And for some reason, they worked even better with musical numbers.
Her expression was so funny that I couldn't stop laughing.
"So… many… stairs."
Betelgeuse had finally arrived back. Archer wasted no time, and shot him with an arrow, knocking him down the stairs.
"Really!?" I complained, "Now we have to wait again."
"It is hard to properly calibrate. He is both more resilient and fragile than I am used to. But I think I finally have his measure."
A sniff made me turn and look at Lydia. She was weeping softly.
"There is no need for tears Lydia. I am not going to hurt you."
"Liar…" She sniffed.
"When have I lied to you? I only ever helped you. You wanted to talk with your mother. I provided the means. You were complaining about your father, well I fixed that too. Charles would have never believed you about Adam and Barbara."
"You were possessing him even then?"
"I took him immediately after you let me in. He was the only living male in the house at the time."
"All this time I had lost him, and I didn't even know it. Give him back!"
"Patience. I am nearly done with him."
Betelgeuse's return interrupted our conversation.
"So… many… stairs. I... am… out… of… breath…"
I had to ask, "How are you out of breath when you had none, to begin with?"
"Good point. I feel much better now. Now shell we fight mano a mano?" the ghost replied taking what he thought to be a boxing stance. Fancy footwork and closed fists. I was trained in hand-to-hand combat by the Church executor, so I could with some certainty say, if he tried to fight like that, he would have tripped on his feet. And if, by some miracle, managed to hit Archer like that he was likely to break his fingers.
Archer's reply was both simple and effective. Three arrows. One in the throat, one in the right eye, and the last one in the chest. The body fell back down the stairs.
I turned to look at Archer, ready to complain, but what I saw made me shout in warning, "Archer!"
What Archer shot was a decoy, a powerless replica. Betelgeuse had used to sneak behind Archer in the form of a small snake. The snake remained neither singular nor small. In an eyeblink one snake multiplied and grew, transforming into a man-sized snake knot.
Countless heads moved to bite Archer, their fangs, dripping with venom.
Archer jumped back and incanted, "Trace on: Gáe Bolg!"
The red spear appeared in his hand and was immediately turned into a streak of red light, moving at impossible angles. The original spear could reverse causality, piercing the heart of the target before a spear had been drawn, and the World would fill out the rest. This was just the copy, it lacked original near Authority, but it retained heart-seeking properties.
But the red streak did not target a mass of snakes but struck a small patch of floor somewhere just behind Archer. The red spear resumed its previous shape, bisecting a small cockroach.
The insect transformed into Betelgeuse, the red spear in his chest, "Penetrated by the gay bulge. Not the way I thought I would go." He coughed, spitting acid-green liquid from his lips. "This actually hurts." He sounded small and surprised.
"Not for long," Archer said and pulled out the spear. The radioactive green ectoplasm gushed from the hole in Betelgeuse's chest like an unholy fountain. There was much more liquid than could ever be contained in a body. By magnitudes more. "He had been hiding most of the time. Once I realized that it was just a matter of sniffing him out."
I think he meant that literary. Archer used his nose to sense supernatural phenomena.
"You have done well." I praised Archer, and then added "Lydia, just a little more patience and you will get what you wanted."
"What!?" she cried out. The green liquid was up to our ankles.
"I am nearly done with your father. Look," I said pointing to the floating miniature… well it was this house once, now it was ten rooms connected by nineteen stairways and three hallways, with the rest orbiting in pieces, but still this house.
There was enough green ectoplasm that was visible even from this perspective. It flowed from the highest point, here in the attic, down the stairs and corridors, slowly painting the whole thing luminescent green.
There for no real need for her to know this, but I think she deserved to. And the process would take some time, and it was better than just standing in awkward silence like Archer was doing on the side.
I continued the explanation, "Once the blood of sacrifice traversed from Twin Gods down the Tree of Death, it is perfected and ready to fill the Holy Grail. Once that is done it would be ready for use."
The fluid reached the lowest point, the basement. And, as I had designed, a first drop fell into the green cup I had placed beneath. The drop remained the same in size, as it left the warped house. But the color was more vibrant, more alive. As it should be.
"Sacrifice!? You wanted me to bring Beetlejuice here!"
Drop by drop, it fell into the cup. But the cup remained empty. The liquid was absorbed in the crystalline structure.
"Not just Betelgeuse. I needed both you and your father for the ritual too. When modifying the rite for two pairs rather than seven I had to lean on Thaumiel, Thus the Masters of the pair needed to be: one who embodies power, me, and one who craves power, you. The Rebel and the Tyrant. The Twin Gods."
It stopped gushing. Of Betelgeuse only an empty suit remained.
"Two Masters? That… Wait... I am not you! Am I?" Lydia muttered, pacing nervously I could correct her, that I was using Master as a position in the ritual rather than a personal name. But the conclusion was just so amusing, more so because they were plausible with the premise that I was actually a renegade Time Lord. "I do not crave power! I just want my father back!"
The fluid drained from the attic, leaving the floor slightly wet. The air was filled with the sickly sweet scent of rot.
"Just a little more patience, and you will have him Last drops are falling. Without a wish, this grail I made would not have accepted you as a contestant. Its purpose is to grant one. So, there is something you desperately need, and what is power than the ability to fulfill our desires."
The only place that was stained with green was the lowest point of the house, and there was not much there either.
"You took my father. You planned all this."
The last glowing green drop fell into the cup under the floating house. The grail crackled with power. It seemed a bit less stable than I hoped for.
"Everything that has transpired had done according to my design. And I will take this fully functional Holy Grail and make a wish. It's the last thing I need you father for."
I approached it. Potency should be sufficient, but it felt a bit wild. There would be side effects, I just knew it.
"Why do need my father for?"
I approached and on a closer look, I could see small cracks in the cup.
"Insulation. The Grail is designed to absorb spiritual entities. Think of him as pair of human mittens." I reached toward the cup, but as my hand closed, a number of sparks emerged from it. Few hit my hand. I pulled back wincing. That hurt.
"And what would happen to my father?"
"Hopefully nothing," I replied distracted.
"Hopefully!? Master! Catch!"
I turned my head in just in time to a small object hurtling towards my head by instinct I caught it. It was my smartphone. Clever girl. And it could have worked.
If I was something that had to keep a promise. I liked keeping my promises. Such a reputation was very useful once I had to break one. Like now.
"I do wish that I had another way," I muttered.
From behind my back new voice uttered, "May I offer you an alternative?"
I tried to turn, but I was frozen. No. More precisely Charles' body was frozen. Once I exited it, I could move again. But it was not only my host that was paralyzed, Lydia and Archer were also immobile. Everything was still.
Time itself was frozen. Not the trick I pulled the hypnotism, but actual time had stopped. I was separated from the timeline. I existed in space between two moments.
And I was not alone. There was the speaker. A new presence in the attic. An older, not too old, man in a black suit. He had the look of a government bureaucrat. He even had a metal attaché case.
"If I ask for an introduction, I won't get one, would I?"
"It matters less who am I than what I can do for you. You have drawn the attention of my Employers. That is a rare honor. There is a position that I believe will suit you. The health benefits would be of particular interest to you. A new healthy, living body. You will have no need for the object. No risk, and no guilt"
"And Archer too?"
"Of course. I would not want to separate you from your partner. You work so well together."
"And what I will need to do is?"
"Your task will become immediately apparent if you accept the proposal. Some restrictions on methods do apply. You must use commercial and legal means to achieve the objective. We cannot afford to draw undue attention. If you would accept, just enter the portal."
Such a choice. I had to either enter a vague bargain with an unknown but rather suspicious entity. One that had a presence that reminded me of the Teacher, and me. Which meant that he had some comprehension of a variant of the Second Law. That was trouble.
Or I could take a risk with a makeshift grail. It was palatable when it was the only option.
There was no way to see what was likely to work better. Both were blind gambles.
On one hand, I was likely I could try again if the Grail failed in a less spectacular way. But from I was sensing of it. It would do something. It should be able to grant our wish in some manner. But probably with unknown side effects.
Since I couldn't determine what would be better for me and Archer, I had to choose based on what would happen to others. Betelgeuse was annoying and, in many timelines, quite villainous, but in this one, he had nothing deserving fate much worse than death. And Lydia deserved a win. I had a soft spot for her.
So, I went to the door-shaped portal.
But before I could visitor added, "One more small matter. Do not speak of our conversation to anyone. Discretion is required."
I walked through the white door and the next moment I was dodging a Thermal Discouragement Beam.