His eyes were closed for the barest second. Behind those eyes a sharp mind worked. His thoughts could not be described was frantic, for he was simply not that type of person. One thing was ever present and that was his confidence. One day it would grow and swell into arrogance, but it was hard to act arrogant in the company he kept. Arrogance could be a downfall. Confidence was essential.
His companion didn't notice the blink.
"You've been in the Circle for a long time, Cadel."
The second man remained unmoved. "Cut the small talk." His eyes and hair were of a dark color, almost in contrast to the man in front of him, whose hair was a dinged brown, and eyes were a violent, unnatural shade.
He rubbed his fingertips together lightly. "All right," he agreed. "Surely you know that there are some members of our order who are not entirely..."
"Committed. Devoted. Understanding of the Circle's purpose. I know precisely what you are speaking of." Cadel's expression of suspicion and dislike deepened, and his breathing quickened slightly.
"Precisely. They don't deserve to serve under the Master. They should be weeded out, and with speed." His gaze was steady. Leaning onto his elbows, he looked hard at his companion (though the faint trace of a self-righteous smirk lingered on his countenance) and said, "And that's what I was doing. That is the naughty little deed you caught me in the middle of. Some may call it treacherous. But it must be done. Treachery to punish traitors."
A part of Cadel's mind stirred; he wanted to believe it. This talk of purification was attractive. The Skeletal Circle was becoming decadent, its members becoming younger and they always asked for too much... That was not what the Circle was about.
"You expect me to believe that?" he asked instead.
The other man sighed, placing his hands flat on the table and pushing himself up. "I'll show you."
Cadel followed him down a stone corridor. It was eternally gloomy in the chambers with only flaming torches to light the winding paths, and the great hall was the darkest of all. Their footsteps made tiny scuffing noises in the gloom.
"And we return to the scene of the crime," the figure in front of him announced.
"What you're about to show me had better be good, Grimm."
"Patience, my friend." Grimm opened the doors without lifting the torch out of its bracket. It was dark, but you were not allowed to bring any torches into the great hall.
The pair stepped through the arched doorway and into a black chamber. Every sound echoed in the room. You couldn't hide a thing.
Cadel heard the rustling of Grimm's robe as he waved an arm in the air. A purple flame ignited in the very center of the room, high up on a pedestal, throwing a murky glow onto their faces. The light did not penetrate the shadows enough to reach the walls of the huge cavern, but it pierced through every mind.
Grimm allowed the tiniest of smiles to crawl across his face. "I shouldn't need to tell you to behold the greatest power in the universe, should I?"
His companion looked up reverentially while tendrils of flame leapt out and crackled like lightning in the air. Upon the pedestal a great amulet lay undisturbed. It was the largest of all; the Skeletal Circle members carried only smaller semblances of the great amulet. And through the stone of the amulet, the eye of the Skeleton King watched.
From deep within the jewel, a dark energy flickered into life and enveloped it. The violet flame curled in on itself and formed into a rough ball, glowing stronger. The sound of lightning remained.
Wordless, Grimm began to walk up the steps of the plinth.
Cadel's heartbeat quickened. He wouldn't dare...
His voice rang out into the silence. "Are you coming, Cadel? I have a wonderful magic show planned for you."
Cadel let out a ragged breath, putting his head down and climbing after Grimm. The stone steps were regularly-spaced, but one had to carefully feel for them. It was a long way to fall.
They stood at the top together. It was the closest Cadel had ever been to the amulet, but no doubt Grimm had been in such proximity many times before. The light was almost blinding at this close a distance, and Cadel had to lower his gaze. Usually light sources are warm. The brightness surrounding the amulet was cold.
"Magic is just another form of psychology," Grimm murmured. He lazily reached out his arm, as if bathing in the light. A thin wisp of dark purple jumped out from the main body, separating. It vanished into his index finger. "The magician draws attention away from his left hand by looking at his right. The enraptured audience watches the right hand, and when he opens it to reveal nothing, they never think of his left."
"And stealing the Master's power would help you how?" Cadel growled quietly. "As well as hiding it from him!"
"Why, the process is simple. I go to the less knowledgeable members of the Circle, offer to tutor them in our ways. They can choose the hard way or the simple way. The simple method involves some pretty neat tricks and a lecture. The other involves a lot of zapping and screaming. If it doesn't work out, well, it doesn't work out. I can always return the Master's power. He will never notice it was gone; I found a very useful spell for that." Grimm glanced sideways. "And besides, it is not stealing."
Cadel clenched both of his fists. "The Master is not offering you his power. You are taking it. That is stealing. And you were taking far more than that when I caught you!" He jabbed a finger angrily at the orb of light. "You may have dulled his senses, but the Master will find out. No matter how high-standing you are within the Circle, no matter what your intentions were -his wrath will be beyond imagination!"
Grimm's face bore no sign of worry. The purple light made him appear to be extremely relaxed. "But listen here, the Circle can be restored to its forgotten glory. No more young upstarts. We can go back to the true way of the Skeletal Circle…
"Surely you don't think it is too late for that, do you?"
Cadel's only answer was a grunt of pain. He fell to the side and went tumbling down the staircase, shouting and cursing. Grimm watched, intrigued, at the two falling bodies. As soon as they reached ground level they both sprang apart and leapt to their feet. One ran low at the other, but he dodged and kicked the first figure in the legs. The violent brawl was only in its early stages.
A high-pitched scream cut through the air, long and loud.
Grimm ran down the steps three at a time, his robe rippling with the movement. Cadel could defend himself; he was smart enough for that. He himself opted for the option of flight.
The screamer had silenced for but a second. Another shriek began, even louder.
It did not go unheard. Members of the Circle poured through other openings in the chamber walls, coming from all directions. They rushed toward the pedestal and looked up in alarm. Several strong men held back the two fighters. Grimm could mingle with them, and somehow direct the blame onto Cadel...
"Seize that one! Seize him now!"
He stopped, eyes darting quickly. Running through the crowd would be offering himself to a trap. They would only surround him if he scaled the pedestal again, and then what would he do? Jump off?
It was good while it lasted, he thought ruefully to himself. Without a single anxious tremor, his fingers reached for the amulet at his neck.
But it isn't over yet.
The stone floor grazed his arm as Grimm skidded across it. He kicked savagely at his assailant, hearing a satisfying moan as the attacker released his hold. His hand flew to the amulet again-
The shadows shrank. Every eye stared unblinking at the plinth as the violet fire surged explosively. The steps were soon covered in a waterfall of flames, the purple color darkening to black as they ran down the plinth.
Several people had the sense hold down Grimm's arms down. The group collectively shuffled closer together and the doorways banged shut, barring his escape.
Damn it.
The important thing was not to panic. No one has mercy on a blithering, crying fool. There was a chance for him to get out of trouble, if he took it at the right time and did the right thing...
No one noticed the transition. The Circle dropped to their knees, and the people holding Cadel and Grimm did their best to bow their heads. "Master..." the gathering murmured in unison.
A figure stood atop the pedestal. Empty eyeholes looked down upon them. The voice was a gravelly hiss.
"Rules have been broken..."
The great hall was silent, every eye closed in respect and every breath held.
"There has been treachery among you!" The death's head moved, looking to the side at a young man cradling his chin and a woman with slightly red cheeks.
"Tell all that you know!" the specter snapped harshly. "And make it quick!"
The pair bowed their heads even lower. "Yes, Master."
"Well?"
They cringed. Without lifting his head, the man burbled out, "These two we have captured...we followed them, suspected them of doing something odd... We caught them siphoning energy from the amulet, Master! Stealing it to fulfill their own goals!"
"That's a lie!" a shout rang out, echoing against the walls. "I wasn't involved! I caught him in the great hall, sucking the power away and he fed me this fanciful story to cover it up-"
"Enough!" The flames on the stairs surged upwards. Everyone flinched involuntarily. "Take him away! Give him to the stinking creatures of the Void."
The man's face contorted in unadulterated fear. "No, Master, please! It wasn't me, I swear on my life-" The men gripping his arms tugged roughly. "Grimm, you bastard! You were the highest standing person in the entire Circle; how could you go against that? You betrayed the Skeleton King, after he made you his right hand man! I hope you rot in the Void for this, you despicable slug-"
The doors swung shut with a reverberating grinding sound, and the last anyone saw of him was his shrinking figure kicking madly and thrashing against his captors.
The eyes on the death's head narrowed. It turned to focus on Grimm, who dared to meet the gaze shamelessly. His mouth was closed in a thin line, but there was no other sign of open defiance on his face. The rest of the Skeletal Circle looked at him in disgust.
"Ah, my second in command on Shuggazoom City," the voice hissed. "My most loyal of generals." The voice rose in volume and harshness. "The unfortunate man is right! You will rot for eternity in the Void for this heinous treason!"
Grimm blinked, watching the clawed hand reach forward, directed solely at him. There was no huge surge of fear, only a faint fluttering in his chest. It was all unreal. His body felt numb...
There was a collective gasp from the members of the Skeletal Circle. The men who had been holding him threw up their arms and stepped backward. The women turned their faces away.
The oily black smear upon the stone was largely ignored.
The Master's hoarse voice broke through the quiet. "You two! Name yourselves."
The young man and woman shuffled forward. "Howe Cinco and Vesper Balin, Master."
An ugly smile, more like a sneer, spread across the face. "I am going to reward your loyalty..."
Later, when the two would sit together and remember their sudden promotion in the Circle's ranks, all they would speak of the deed they had done was this:
"I could have taken on both of them, you know. Just because I'm a woman-"
"I'm certain you could have, Vesper. But you're better at screaming than I am."
"I suppose you're right."
And that was the end of it.
Cadel opened his mouth wide and screamed. Something grey and ice cold brushed against his right cheek. The skin on his arms began to prickle uncontrollably, like pins and needles. The prickling intensified, his flesh becoming unbearably hot. The breath of some creature hissed and skimmed across his face.
He could see death itself...
The two men in Circle robes took a firm hold of him, and with a heave pulled him out of the luminescent portal. The opening shrank and fizzled closed, vanishing into nothingness.
They left Cadel there on the hard ground, clutching at his head and muttering to himself, his mind so far gone that he forgot his own name.
Grimm blinked, watching the clawed hand reach forward, directed solely at him. There was no huge surge of fear, only a faint fluttering in his chest. It was all unreal. His body felt numb...
He took in a sharp breath, the air whistling through his lungs. His body was no longer numb and unfeeling. The Skeleton King would have been a fool not to let a traitor feel his punishment. He should have expected the immense pain, but he was unprepared.
Grimm coughed, painfully. The inside of his chest seemed to burn with fire, fire hotter than anything you could light. His flesh stung like an open wound. This was the power of the Skeleton King. What idiocy had possessed him to go against that power? What had seized him to try and take it for his own...?
Arrogance was an unbecoming trait.
With a final gag on his own blood, his vision went dark.
The oily black smear upon the stone was largely ignored.
Grimm was dead.