Author's Note: Things get very, VERY serious.

Enjoy.

Alois and Claude: Trancy Murder Arc Part 5

Alois was dreaming of his future. Somewhere deep in the woods of the estate, in a place where only darkness existed and sunlight was but a myth, that was where he lay. He was cocooned in spider silk, his rotting corpse ensconced in some distant corner of a great spider's beautiful web. Maggots crawled from his nostrils and his empty, gaping eye sockets. Every so often, his arachnid keeper would feast on what remained of his flesh, just as a light snack between larger meals of fresher meat. And throughout it all, his face was smiling. He awoke with a start when a great noise swelled in his ears, the unmistakable sound of angry punters demanding a refund.

"Was he any good, Claude?" Alois asked his demon as they sat in the balcony. Suddenly a volley of rotten fruit and vegetables, mostly tomatoes and apples, splattered against the closed curtains of the main stage. Claude adjusted his spectacles.

"Aragon's performance was without merit. It is a sentiment I feel the audience agrees with me on, Highness." The demon replied as his master yawned whilst stretching arms above his head.

"Well, he's bound to do a runner fairly soon then. Did he have any rabbits?"

"No, Sir. He did not."

"I guess we'll just break his neck in that case. Take me backstage, Claude. Hoheo Taralna, Rondero Tarel, yes?" Alois knew such an order did not require embellishment. He simply enjoyed saying the words aloud, especially to someone who would never remark on their stupidity. Claude rose to his feet then effortlessly scooped the youth bride-style in his arms.

"Yes, your Highness. Bear with me."

Claude leapt from the balcony and landed on the main stage in one seamless bound. Even with the din of the crowd, Alois knew the demon butler's feet had made no sound on impact. They exited behind the curtains before any projectiles could strike them, spotting their target almost immediately. A short, fat man with a ruddy complexion and a ridiculous conjurer's outfit that included a yellow cape and polka-dotted bowtie was scampering off down the backstage corridor towards the exit. He was carrying a heavy-looking black case in one hand and clearly struggling with the load judging by his awkward, waddling gait.

"Throw me at him, Claude. Around...shoulder-height."

"With your current injuries, Highness, such an action may result in further..."

"Throw me now! Right bloody now!" Claude did not delay no longer, launching his master through the air like a cannonball. Alois struck the man on both shoulders with his elbows when they collided, forcing the case to drop as the pair clattered to the ground in a heap. Despite his ribs flaring on him from the collision, Alois eagerly sprang back to his feet to examine the case. One of its gold latches had been damaged from the drop, allowing the boy to easily pry it open. He was disgruntled to find it did not contain either a body or something interesting but instead was simply cluttered with gold bars. Alois had as many as a thousand bars of his own in the treasury – this case only held eight. It looked very much like bribery of one sort or another. The youth picked one up and held it loosely in his hand as he approached the fat man, who was now being held fast by Claude's capable fingers. The man looked panicked. Alois showed him the bar. "Tell us who paid you these, what they paid you for and why I shouldn't just bash your skull in with it before I lose my temper. You do know who I am, don't you?"

"But...but you paid me the bars, Earl Trancy. You asked me to perform in Aragon's stead and gave the gold as payment. I said it was too much, but you insisted. I don't...I don't understand what's going on here." Alois scrutinised the bar again, examining its underside. The Trancy seal was prominently stamped into the bar. His gold. This...was his gold. He glared at the fat man, feeling his bloodlust growing beyond control. He swallowed the urge to bludgeon with great difficulty to pose a follow-up question.

"When did I pay you these? What day?"

"This Tuesday, Sir. I came to my house in Kensington on request and was granted audience. Your servant...he said Aragon was unable to perform on Friday and required a stand-in. They had heard I was an amateur enthusiast of the magic arts and asked if I would fill in on his behalf for your viewing pleasure. I told you I wasn't very good, Sir. I told you I needed more practice, but you wouldn't hear it. You just wouldn't hear it."

"Let him go a moment, Claude." The boy commanded. The demon released his grip and stood to one side for further instruction. Alois looked at the man whilst gesturing to Claude.

"Was this the servant you saw on Tuesday?"

"No, Earl Trancy. It was an older gentleman in a green suit."

"I have no house in Kensington. And I have no older gentleman servant. If you did not see Claude, then you certainly did not see me. You are being used by an imposter, but have somehow been paid with my sodding gold!" Alois punctuated his anger by hurling the bar across the corridor, aggravating his ribs further. He screamed in a mixture of pain and madness before balling a fist to hit the fat man with. He cocked it back, making his intended target wince in anticipation, but went no further. The fat man looked very pathetic. The boy sighed lethargically and let his fist return to a limp hand by his side. "You have a family, don't you, fat man?"

"Yes, Sir. A wife and three boys."

"Were you going to flee with your riches upon leaving this place? Start a new life?" Alois suggested only for the man to visibly baulk at the notion.

"Not without them, Earl Trancy. Never without them."

"Why? Would it not be better with less mouths to feed?" The boy said, folding his arms whilst also trying to clutch his burning sides to alleviate some of the pain. The man put a hand over his heart.

"I love my family, Sir. I am not a rich man, but I would be far poorer without my wife and children. They give me purpose."

"I believe you. Give me the address of this house in Kensington that you visited and you may leave with your riches." The fat man nodded eagerly.

"Of course, Earl Trancy. The address is Holland House. I imagine you know of it?"

"Sod off, fat man. Enjoy your riches."

The man hurriedly gathered both the case and the wayward bar down the corridor before taking his leave of the pair through the rear exit. Claude's gold eyes followed the conjurer's progress and lingered on the doorway once he had departed with an unreadable expression. Alois smiled at him.

"Are you surprised, Claude?"

"I consider releasing this gentleman unharmed to be unwise, Highness. Are you aware a reward has now been placed on your head by Scotland Yard? Posters are being pasted all over London. I saw them on my initial search for Aragon's location. He may collect on such a reward now he knows where we are heading presently. I doubt Holland House is the correct location. It is in the hands of Henry Fox-Strangways, 5th Earl of Ilchester. He does not take squatters and I am dubious he would willingly entertain your doppelganger either, given a choice." The demon responded impassively. Alois rolled his eyes.

"Not all humans are bastards like me and Aragon, Claude. Some people actually have honour. And, whether there's a bounty on my head or not, you still have to do your job until the end. We're going to Holland House and you will keep me alive and out the nick or else you can kiss your contract goodbye. Got it?" There was a flicker of something in otherwise vacant gold eyes. The youth saw it. An emotion. No idea what, but Claude had definitely felt something. The demon removed his spectacles and cleaned them briefly, his eyes closed throughout the motion.

"I am aware of my duties to you, Highness. Are you aware of yours?"

"All I have to worry about is giving you my soul. It's pretty hard to fuck up, Claude, since I wouldn't be alive without it."

"That is not strictly true, Highness." Claude said replacing his spectacles and opening his eyes. "A human body may still function without its essence. It is an unpleasant fate even on the most deserving of punishment."

"Is that a threat, Claude?"

"Merely a statement of fact, Master. I only say it because warlocks have the power to tear body and soul apart if required. If we encounter Aragon and he is as powerful as this investigation appears to indicate, I implore to keep your guard up. I can only protect your physical being. Should black magic be employed to separate your components, there is a chance I will be unable to resist chasing your essence over guarding your earthly vessel. And if your body is destroyed, with your soul in limbo, I will not be able to fulfil your contract or devour your soul. So please be vigilant upon our arrival at Holland House." The demon explained as if such information were both dull and commonplace instead of terrifying. Alois tutted at him.

"You are silly, Claude. We both have no proof this man is anything more than a decent showman. You said yourself if he's performing in this dive, he can't be that good. Plus, that bloody undertaker stuck the body in the woods as a game. So, this warlock obviously never wanted us to find out about the murder. And if he didn't want us to know, I bet that means it's because he's scared of what we might do."

"A logical assumption, Highness. However, it would be in our best interests to proceed as if this warlock poses a significant threat to both our existences. It would also be prudent to store the pendant in a safe place. Aragon may simply be waiting for us to deliver it into his hands."

"Why bother? He's already summoned his wishing demon."

"They are reusable, Master. In theory, with an endless array of sacrifices, the pendant and demon it contains may be used indefinitely."

"Well, that probably won't pose much of a problem to a mass-murderer. But, if he gets his hands on better charms, he probably won't even need this one. Claude, Iet's go and settle this. I want my reputation back. Whether he's the real deal or not, I need to get things back to how they should be."

"Yes, your Highness."

Alois frowned as he stood outside the front of Holland House. Although the house was grandiose, both in size and reputation, it still barely held its own against Trancy Manor's majesty. But this was not what gave him pause. The entire exterior of the house was black. The grounds' expansive lawns were tinged purple. Above them, storm clouds gathered in menacing crowds, primed to explode with thunder and lightning at any moment. The blond youth folded his arms and huffed. "I suppose you deserve an apology, Claude: this man isn't just your average conjurer. Is this...black magic?"

"It is a dark realm incantation spell, Highness. It grants its caster complete anonymity from all forms of detection, except that of visual confirmation, and only at night. During daylight hours, the house will appear normal."

"This is a lovely trap for someone to lose their head in, Claude. Do you suppose Earl Strangways is currently missing his head?"

"Possibly. We should not jump to conclusions, Highness. We should investigate. I will protect you to the best of my abilities."

"Whatever, just don't get me killed and we'll consider anything else a bonus. Let's go."

Alois had Claude knock smartly on the door. They only waited a few moments before it was opened. Framed in the doorway, was another Alois Trancy, but this one sported a green suit and similar coloured bows and frills. Dress aside, it was like looking into a mirror. The replica sneered derisively at the pair.

"And what are you two supposed to be? You look like beggars. Are you?" The other blonde said in Alois' voice and with his measured brand of cheek and venom. The real Alois was not impressed with the imitation.

"You're dressed like shit." The youth said before slapping the other boy clean across the mouth with the back of his hand. "And you'll address me as Earl Trancy or I'll have Claude here pulls your arms and legs off like I do to flies. Understand?" The replica's smile vanished as blood trickled down his chin from a split lip. He clutched it tenderly. Alois was happy to have caught the boy with his rings, put the uppity shit in his place. The replica scowled at him.

"You're going to pay for that." He said. Alois feigned concern.

"Oh, did I hurt you? Can I see how bad it is?" The replica tentatively moved his hands away from the wound. Alois moved in and reached with one, as if to examine it. Then he slapped him again, harder, but only with an open palm. The replica lost his balance in the aftermath and stumbled to the floor. "You're lucky I don't have a fucking fire poker to thrash you with." Alois said from above him with a devilish smile.

"Father will hear of this! You'll be strung up in Newgate by breakfast!" The replica shrieked whilst staggering to his feet and retreating into the house. Alois grinned at his demon butler.

"Well, that one's mine, Claude. You can have the warlock."

"Very well, Highness. Shall we enter?"

"Sounds very much like we've been invited. Come in, let's get really nasty now. Which eye should I gouge out first?" The boy asked gleefully as they crossed the threshold and began to walk west through the wide-open parlour. Claude was impassive.

"I think either is a good choice, Highness."

"Which would you pick if you were gouging my eyes out?" Alois asked as a genuine question rather than as some kind of test for his companion. The demon did not even consider.

"Your left. It is fractionally smaller than your right. The lack of symmetry has always irked me." The youth liked that. Always with the aesthetic. Always erasing what was not perfect. Alois loved that about him. He loved everything about his personal monster. He clapped his hands.

"Then I will too. I hope he screams like me too. That would be so much fun! Oh, I hope Aragon screams too, Claude. I want you to have fun as well." Claude barely inclined his head.

"Thank you, Highness. I will try."

They entered another parlour that looked suspiciously like the first. A brief look behind them revealed the door they had walked in through initially, with the doppelganger's blood on the tiles as proof. They tried the east passage this time, but were again seemingly led back to the parlour despite going in a straight line. The pair regarded one another. "More magic, Claude?" The boy asked with an irritated sigh.

"It would appear we are not the ones who will lead these proceedings, Master. Aragon clearly wishes to meet on his terms. It is a smart tactic."

"I don't care if it's the most brilliant tactic in the whole world: I want to spill blood and I want to do it tonight, right here, right now." Alois huffed whilst baring his teeth in displeasure at the unfair denial. From somewhere above them, a man's voice chuckled.

"My, my, aren't you just an adorable little sadist?" The voice said echoing around them. "I give you credit though, Earl Trancy, you are far smarter than I have been led to believe. Your pet demon may do all the legwork, but you are nothing if not tenacious. Tell me, is it true you spent part of your life as your predecessor's whore?" It wasn't enough of an insult or revelation to rattle him, not anymore. Practically all of London knew it, they just couldn't prove it. Alois smirked.

"Not fucked your fake yet? If his arse was anything like mine, you wouldn't have bothered framing me for murder or summoning demons for world conquest: You'd be too busy worshipping my ring as your god." There was a pause, then more laughter. This time it was practically hysteria. The acoustics of the parlour made it sound like the laughter was swelling to a crescendo. After almost five minutes, it died.

"Sensational! I tried to make my tribute as like you as possible. Although he looks, walks and talks like you, his mind is far slower. He would never counter such questions with your aplomb. Ah well, maybe after your death, I might train him harder."

"Train him now. Get back out here so I can really maul him like he deserves." Alois challenged, still itching for more vengeance. There was another pause, longer this time.

"Tempting, but no. Let us introduce ourselves properly..." A cloud of green smoke erupted from a nearby vase, drifted to the centre of the room and then materialised into a short, bald man in a green morning suit. Alois thought he looked very much like an oversized leprechaun and just as toothless. The man smiled widely and bowed his head. "Hello, Alois Trancy and Claude Faustus. I am Aragon of Greenwood, your humble executioner."

"Claude?"

"Highness?"

"Whatever happens, I order you to rip his head off those shoulders. Either bring it on a silver platter or bury it in the spider webs with my corpse. Got it?" Claude, perhaps sensing his master's urgency, removed his spectacles and tucked them into his breast pocket. Gold eyes levelled on the target. The voice remained as calm as ever.

"Yes, your Highness."