Gideon drummed his fingers restively on the table. They'd talked themselves into half a dozen circles already, and he was pretty sure the next time someone said the word "Emperor" at Tyr he would breathe fire at them. "I think I should have gone with Shell. It's taking too long."
Galmar chuckled. "You think the littles ganged up on her."
Gideon smiled. "They might. She's still finding her feet with them. I'll go check and be right back."
"Yes, please save her," Sorcha begged with exaggerated fervor. "The poor woman doesn't deserve such a fate!" As if to emphasize this, a lock of hair slipped out of her braid to bounce up and over her face.
"Don't let Sofie hear you. You might wind up with your own knitted blanket," Gideon offered from halfway out the door. He could still faintly hear the Breton asking what blankets had to do with anything as he went down the hall.
As he approached the house, he felt himself tensing instinctively. Frowning, he looked around, but saw nothing out of place, and it took several seconds simply staring at the house for him to realize what it was: Hjerim was eerily quiet, and that scared Gideon more than any dragon bellow could. He tore through the building, looking for anyone, and finally found Merc and Lydia strewn on the bathroom floor like forgotten dolls.
He fell down next to them, checking them for injury. The gentle heal spell he managed finally roused them. "What?" Lydia looked at him confusedly. "Why are we on the floor?"
"I had hoped you could tell me." Gideon searched them both over, relieved to find no injuries.
"A rune, there was a rune on the floor. It knocked us both out." Mercutio was groggy, and still in little more than a towel and damp braies.
"But why?" Gideon was worried he knew.
"The children!" Lydia's fear got all three adults scrambling, racing through the house calling names. The beds in their rooms were made, the toys still put away. The dishes in the kitchen hadn't been finished, the little signs of purloined treats that usually sprung up this time of day missing. The room Telki had been experimenting with the Wabbajack was empty, both she and the Artifact nowhere in evidence. Racing to the back out the house, Gideon skidded to a halt at a draft, finding one of the doors to the courtyard missing. Taking out the hammer, he crept up to the unblocked passage and peered out, eyes widening at the sight of the children slumped over on the cold ground, covered with a light dusting of snow. Gideon felt his heart stop, and then scuttle madly in his chest at their still bodies, laying as if tossed carelessly by a mercurial wind. It stopped again when an automatic count came up short.
"Gideon! Gideon!" Haffod was awake, but unmoving. Breaking out of his horrified stasis, Gideon moved to him, his hands lighting up to check him for injury. He breathed a sigh when his magic only found a paralysis agent to purge. "It was Demeus, Gideon. They…he… there was this strange person, he looked like a living ghost. He touched Demeus' head, and he changed. They took them: the twins, Murril, Sura, Heron, and Shell. They loaded them on a door and carted them off. Luce…Luce attacked the ghost one, and she didn't come back." Grief and guilt sat heavily on Haffod's chest, threatening to suffocate him.
Gideon sat there a moment, even he, with all his experience, needed a moment to take it all in. He shook himself, and looked down at his squire's tear stained cheeks. "Lad, I know you fought as well as you could against them. We'll get them back, but I need you to quit beating yourself up if you're going to be any use getting them back. Aye?" Gideon's eyes trailed as Merc and Lydia went about reviving and tending the rest of the children, Merc having found a houserobe somewhere. Runa looked mad enough to go after them herself. Blaise seemed to be of the same mind. Sofie was hiccuping into Merc's shoulder, while a bewildered Frankie cuddled them. Alesan looked as angry and guilty as Haffod. He'd need to have a talk with him, too.
"I failed them," came the flat reply.
Gideon jerked his head back around to his squire, tearing his gaze from the rest of the children. "Did you quit trying?"
The lad blinked. "No."
"Then you didn't fail." Haffod still looked guilty and dubious, but he did seem to be thinking. That was a good sign. Gideon would watch him just to be sure; he couldn't let his squire wallow in guilt he hadn't earned. However, there were people that needed to know this happened, and as he looked around at Lydia and Merc, he realized he was the only one able to alert the others.
"Haffod, help Mercutio and Lydia get everyone settled inside. I'll be right back after I send a guard to collect everyone." Haffod flinched, but nodded. Someone was apparently expecting Telki would put him back on septic duty.
It took him only a minute to rustle up a guard to run to the Palace. He then went inside to wait for everyone to show up while he tended his heartbroken children. Merc took the opportunity to dress, while Lydia stubbornly wobbled around the kitchen and refused to sit until each child had a warm mug of sober mead to wrap their chilled fingers around.
Predictably, Fey arrived first, a hint of lightning already around her fists. She glanced around, her eyes cold as she turned to Gideon. "What happened?" she demanded.
None of the littles had seen Fey's scary face before. Sofie started sniffling again, and Frankie, trying to hold his own tears in, patted her back. Even Runa and Blaise looked impressed, if somewhat still mutinous.
Haffod felt his throat catch. "The twins and Murril were kidnapped. This person, half ghost, showed up and took them. Lucia tried to Banish him, but she did not come back herself. He did, and did something to Demeus, Demeus helped him take them and Shell."
Fey stared at him before sitting abruptly. "They were able to take Shell?" she asked. The one child she had thought she'd not have to worry about protecting anymore… "Wait, half ghost?" Alarm crossed her face.
"Yeah, he, she, whatever it was, grey robes, colorless hair and eyes, and could poof around like a ghost. We tried to fight him. Haffod got a good lick in with that flowerpot. Orien feimed Runa, and she stabbed him. It just wasn't enough when Demeus turned and stabbed Shell with some paralysis poison." Alesan sat glumly with his head hanging. "They took Sura and Heron, too. They didn't want to go."
"He did what?" she asked lowly.
"Demeus was a traitor?" Tyr asked, out of breath from the run and just coming in the door. He looked confused and worried, then grim as he looked around.
Haffod shook his head. "He was the first one the half ghost attacked. Touched him in the head and knocked him out. When he came to, he was different."
"Maybe this should wait until everyone gets here," Tyr said reluctantly, putting a hand on Fey's arm. "Just…the twins and Pearl…they're not here."
"Pearl wasn't in the courtyard. She wanted to study the gate in the basement." Runa offered as if confused why anyone would be more interested in the gate than sunshine and fresh air.
"I bet she followed them, and can lead us to their secret hideout, and we can get our friends back, right?" Blaise asked.
Fey was out of her seat and running for the basement before the hopeful question finished, her husband at her heels. They halted when they saw the state of the portal. Debris blocked the other side, falling through and littering the cellar. "You go find out what happened," Tyr said quietly. "I'll start pulling some of this down and see how bad it is. Some of that looks like roof tile."
She nodded, going upstairs and shaking her head at Gideon.
Gideon felt his shoulders slump. "How bad?"
"It looks like they brought the roof of the house down around it," she replied flatly.
"Well, crap," Sorcha said, the others piling through the door at last. Glancing at the children, she patted her braided hair. "Those are some subdued children. How bad is it ?"
"Bad. The foundling Young Ones, Murril, Shell, and the twins were taken by a Half Ghost who apparently turned Demeus somehow, and Luce Banished herself trying to stop the Half Ghost." Gideon ran an irritated hand through his hair. "And I've no clue where to even begin."
Talon's head jerked around. "Altmer, with pale eyes? Spoke as if he wasn't fully awake?"
Haffod and Alesan both nodded. "Yeah, you know who the Half Ghost is?"
Fey gave him a horrified look, "The Null?" she asked, as if hoping he'd refute it.
"I can't think of anyone else with that description but Lee, though I hardly have met every Young One," Talon looked grim.
"Alright, so we're pretty sure the kidnapper's this Lee character. What does that tell us about getting the kids back?" Galmar decided to cut to the chase. He'd followed in behind Sorcha, taking in the controlled chaos that was calming kids and worried adults.
Talon took a deep breath. "We know that the Elder Council hired Young Ones. It is possible Lee is involved with them. In either case, they have made it abundantly clear they wished to delay us following through the portal. Ulfric, your men should search Windhelm and keep watch on the exits in case this is a diversion tactic, but from the damage it sounds as if at least one went through."
"Wise counsel, consider it done." Ulfric bowed to Wemie and the rest then turned smartly to start ordering guards about, Galmar kissing Sorcha before following him.
"I'm sure you can use all the hands you can get to clear that portal? It is still active, I take it?" Wemie asked turning back from watching Ulfric leave.
"FUS RO DAH!" echoed up from the basement while the house shook.
"Apparently Tyr's about as patient as I am right now," Fey commented, already heading down the stairs.
The portal was clear, Tyr already through and helping Pearl to her feet while she cast healing on herself, apologizing profusely and looking horrified and guilty. Fey raced through and gathered her daughter to her, then they both proceeded glaring at the man.
"I always miss all the interesting stuff. What did you do to earn that glare?" Ama lept delicately through the new skylight, taking in the sheepish redhead and the combined glare currently skewering him in place. "And who redecorated?"
"Not now, Ama. There's been a kidnapping, and a possible traitor in our midst, or opponents that can scramble brains with a touch," Wemie sighed. "So kindly set aside the levity for the nonce?"
Ama looked around, thoroughly chastised. "So, do we know what's become of Mittens, then?"
"They hit him!" Pearl said, affronted. "I healed him, of course, but he's curled up on himself with the shock of it all." She sagged, fight going out of her. "And…they took Blossom and Orien again," she sobbed. "I wasn't able to do anything, again! And they…they had Shell. And Demeus was…" Falling silent, she closed her eyes as her mother gathered her close, then finally broke down when Tyr wrapped his arms around both of them.
"Did you at least see which direction they went?" Sorcha asked, shoving her hair off her forehead and looking stressed.
Pearl shook her head again. "They didn't. The mage pulled the roof down, then all of them just…faded. Not like a teleport, they literally faded. I could see through them then I couldn't see them at all. It wasn't invisibility, either."
Talon nodded, "Nulls have the ability to briefly shift themselves to another plane and back again to Nirn. With that many people I do not believe he could travel all the way to Alinor, however. I am unsure whether he could even leave the city."
Wemie rubbed her forehead. "They used the portal and went to the trouble to block it. We know Young Ones are in Cyrodiil. The Null took the twins and other Young Ones…it makes sense they're here in the city. Could a locate spell find them?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if they had shielded against it, but it's worth a try," Talon replied. "Merc and I can cast them and see what we get, then we'll have to split up and search."
"At least we've narrowed down neighborhoods," Fey sighed, then stiffed as an unfamiliar voice echoed through the manor.
"Hello? Anyone here?"
.
.
Amaryllis looked up and down the street nervously. This wasn't exactly the worst part of town. It was sort of still genteel, but just barely. It would cause tongues to wag for her to be spotted here, much less knocking on this door. Why did Nala pick the most objectionable house for boarding? She wouldn't be surprised if she'd rented a room here just for this sort of situation. She always had been one to buck propriety, and staying at a Sanguine house certainly did that. Still, this was where the Clairvoyance spell lead her, though she had needed to fiddle with it quite a bit to get it to lead her anywhere. Maybe she'd gotten it wrong?
Amaryllis huffed, and knocked again, louder. The door swung open slightly. The interior was dark and echoed with emptiness, though very little dust swirled in the sunbeams piercing the front parlor. No one had lit even the receiving lap, let alone the lamps higher on the walls or the expensive candelabra placed on the tables. That was odd, even for a House dedicated to Sanguine.
Stranger still to find one empty.
Shaking off her jitters and reflecting that she'd read some ghost stories that began like this and always thought the character was being idiotic, Amaryllis crept cautiously into the parlor and looked around, seeing only a balcony and twin sweeping stairs at the back, and severely out-of-date furniture that had the rare distinction of looking both comfortable and welcoming. "Hello? Anyone here?"
An angry, spitting hiss echoed through the room from the far end, coming from a scrawny, patchily furred cat with a crooked tail.
"Poor thing, what happened to you?" Amaryllis stooped down, to try to lure the poor cat closer. He certainly looked like he could use a friend.
Rather than come over, the cat hissed again, backing into the corridor behind him and darting away. Without the hissing, a faint whimpering could be heard from the door.
Amaryllis scrambled towards that whimper, mentally going over the healing and training she'd learned in her mandatory season in the mage's ward, helping those who needed magical aid. "Hello? Where are you?" She found an old man, curled up on a padded bench, wearing a striped sleeping garment. She allowed herself a moment to absorb the odd sight before compassion shook her out of it and nudged her over. "Hello? What's wrong? Can I help?" It didn't bode well for Nala's odds if she couldn't find some help here.
The man looked up, his eyes wide and full of tears. "Oh, no. Not now. Come back later. They took down the roof. It won't be comfortable now."
"What? What? Oh no, I'm looking for Nala's friends. She's in trouble." Amaryllis' cheeks lit up with a furious blush as she realized the man had mistaken her for some sort of Sanguinite.
His face crumpled, "Her too? Oh, no." The man curled back up, putting his face in his knees and refusing to move no matter how she prodded. She finally sat down and patted his back with an ongoing Calm spell, wondering what her life had become.
"Well, now what?" she asked rhetorically, propping her chin on her hand and slouching like she was never allowed to do at home. It felt rather bizarre. "I didn't have much of a plan, but I didn't think it'd get sunk this quickly. Perhaps I should have tried the local constable." She snorted. They hadn't been much help finding the thief that took her mother's ring—she'd had to find them herself, then buy back the thing for twice what it was worth. She didn't think the Imperial Watch would do much better with a stolen person.
"Yeah, only if you want your time wasted. Hello, who are you, and why are you rubbing Mittens? Wait, don't answer that. You might tell me." Ama twisted her nose comically, taking in the well-to-do young woman staring at her in bewilderment.
"Nala? But I saw them take you, how are you here?" Amaryllis was very confused, and she might well have been gaping. The white Khajiit in the doorway had the same face and frame, the same startling blue eyes and unseemly curves, but the style of clothing was all wrong, and her hair was pulled back and away from her face. Nala always let a few tendrils down to soften her cheekbones and the line of her jaw, giving her a doll-like appearance that distracted some of their classmates in the most irritating manner. Not that Amaryllis truly wanted that kind of attention; she had a hard enough time dealing with the suitors her parents kept thrusting at her.
"Wait, you're looking for my sister?" Ama stilled, and her eyes narrowed.
"Sister? Oh Julianos, there's more of her?"
"Yep, you know Nala," Ama sighed. Her face shifted as what she'd said finally sunk in. "So, back up. You said someone took her?"
"An Argonian, claimed to be Penitus Oculatus. It didn't sound right." Amaryllis' hand stilled on Mitten's back. "I mean, if she were a conspirator, why not openly arrest her? Why enlist my uncle, someone with a known grudge against her, to aid them? That would look questionable in any court of law, and their methods...So, I came looking for answers." Firming her chin, she didn't allow any of the confliction she felt enter her tone. This was the most rebellious thing she'd done since refusing to quit her studies and focus on finding a husband, and that had only worked since so many good families sent their sons to the same school she attended. Her family took a dim view of rebellion, and searching out an explanation skirted it a little too closely.
"Oh this day just keeps getting better. You best come with me. There'll be questions. So many questions. I hope you packed a snack." Ama gestured the girl to follow her, and led her back to the rest of the family. Ama wanted to let her ears lay back, to let her tail lash her pent up fury and helplessness out, to growl low in her throat enough to give even Talon pause, but her training said, emphatically, "no." This girl was an unknown quantity. Until and unless she'd earned Ama's trust, she'd only be introduced to the scapegraced japer. They'd lost enough already to traitors in their midst.
Talon, Merc, Pearl, and Fey were gathered around a table upstairs, pouring over maps of the Imperial City and making notations, having tried several locating spells already and coming up with "too many wards in the city."
"Well, I found our hello-er, and it's more good news." Ama's tone was strangely flat and her smile and eyes a shade too bright.
"Is that sarcasm, because I could really use some actual good news," Pearl said wearily, looking downtrodden.
"Nala's been kidnapped. An Argonian claiming to be Penitus Oculatus took her from my home," Amaryllis interjected. Maybe this strange Khajiit had time to waste on being clever and blasé, but she had to get home before she was missed.
"What?" half a dozen people demanded at once.
"My uncle, may daedra rot his soul, asked me to bring her home to demonstrate her ward. This Argonian jumps out of the shadows, pricks her with some knockout poison, and carts her off with some story about her being a conspirator." Amaryllis could barely contain her fury at being so ill used.
Every Young One in the room turned as one to Talon, who might as well have been made out of ice for all he moved from his spot leaning over the table, studying the map. Finally, his eyes flickered up to Amaryllis, something in his expression making Fey and Sorcha flinch. "How long ago was this?" he asked, his voice quite even.
Swallowing the sudden dryness in her throat, Amaryllis tried to count back in her head. How long had it been? "She was taken about midday, so no more than a couple of hours ago. I had to think of something of hers I could Clairvoyance." Amaryllis started edging towards the door. She didn't care for the kill-face Nala's 'teacher' was wearing. How did she ever think he was nice?
Ama was looking between Talon and Amaryllis. Maybe a subject change was in order? At this rate, Talon was going to scare her off before they got anything useful out of her. "Uh, so, what did you finally think of to use to find her, anyways?"
"Well, I remembered she came to the Library with him…so?" Amaryllis gestured to Talon, whose brow furrowed slightly. "I figured he'd be a place to start to get her help."
Sorcha snorted. "Well, ordinarily that would be too vague a connection for the spell to work, so congratulations on your timing on that."
Wemie looked from Talon to Amaryllis and back, raising an eyebrow. "I'm guessing we'll do the 'hurt my sister' conversation later?"
Amaryllis gulped, loudly. "Well, that explains the menace and murder face."
"Yeah," Sorcha agreed, examining the girl as if trying to solve a riddle. "How'd you get through his wards?"
Her skin twitched like a skittish horse as she realized why finding Talon had been so difficult: This Altmer didn't want to be found, and had taken measures against it. "Clairvoyance. It...it didn't work the first few times, so I changed the parameters of the spell slightly, then...fudged it until it caught on something."
"You 'fudged it until it caught,'" the Breton repeated, as if she couldn't believe her ears.
Shrugging helplessly, Amaryllis held up both hands, trying to look non-threatening but ready to cast if she had to run. "I've always been rather good at finding things, though it's never been a person before. I just wanted to make sure someone knew Nala had been taken."
"Did you try to find Nala that way?" Fey asked, her eyes narrowed in thought.
Amaryllis nodded. "The spell kept splitting different directions every time I tried, or fizzled out altogether. Wherever she is, there are a lot of wards in a small area, layered over her. They keep reflecting the spell off to other things."
"Nevermind that for now," Talon transferred his gaze to Sorcha, "Where did you normally meet your supervisor?"
"He likes haunting the warehouse district this time of day," she said sunnily. "Do tell him I said hello."
The Altmer nodded curtly before striding from the room, each step measured, so much coiled violence in him that even the non-Young Ones could see it.
"Haven't seen that in a while," Fey sighed, shaking her head.
Wemie was watching Talon and looked to be thinking hard. "Fey, who would these Young Ones most fear coming after them? I cannot think of any reason for them to want Nala. It makes no sense unless…"
"They're forcing us to split up," she confirmed, closing her eyes tightly. "Taking my children, taking Nala, taking Sura and Heron…most likely, they will all be taken to different places, forcing us to either split or choose."
"Doesn't that mean they'd have to split up as well?" Ama asked.
"These are Dessnia's," Sorcha groused, sinking onto a chair. "They're so scattered and numerous that they usually give the location of one or two to every Young One going on a mission to the mainland in case they need to pull out quickly or send information along. She's the backbone of the Thalmor information network."
"Wow, sounds like we'll really put a hurting on the Thalmor to take her out," Ama hummed. "I like it when personal vengeance accomplishes more than one goal."
Gideon had been thinking. "Yes, but we need to take her out in a way that discredits her, else, from what I understand, she'll become a martyr." Gideon snorted. "I will not leave them a rallying point.
"So, they're possibly creating multiple targets for us to go after…but to what purpose?" he continued. "Surely by now, possessed or turncoat, Demeus has told them what they're up against. What are they hoping to accomplish?"
"He may not have, yet," Fey said, standing as realization crossed her face. "The more sensitive the information, the more encouraged we were to deliver it in person, if possible. And the Imperials have been closing off magical means of communication for years. It may not be possible for them to pass anything he learned on until they're out of the city, if not the country. That would explain why they're trying to buy time: they need to scatter our focus so they can escape with Demeus's report."
"Is it just Demeus' report they're trying to get to Alinor, though?" Ama sat down and drew aimlessly on the map with a claw. "I mean, yeah, they're trying to scatter our focus, but wouldn't that just make the smart move waiting for them to high tail it out? How hard would it be to let the dragons just scan ships headed that way?"
"What's happening to the kids in the meantime? Are we willing to take the gamble they aren't trying to get them all to Alinor? And how well do you think Odahviing could search ships for captives possibly kept in the holds?" Wemie rattled off at Ama.
"Excuse me, but why are Thalmor after your children?" Amaryllis looked from one person to the next as if they'd grown extra heads, growing more unsure of this by the moment. Had the Argonian been Penitus afterall?
"Mostly, because they're controlling assholes," Tyr groused, then gave her a slight, rueful smile. "So you're one of Nala's mage friends? Know any good locator spells?"
"I used Clairvoyance to find here, but I don't know if I'd be considered 'good.' We were in negotiations for something less that rivals, I think, when Uncle betrayed both our trusts." Amaryllis grimaced and made her decision, "I'll provide whatever help I can, since I feel responsible for my Uncle's gullibility." She had a feeling there was no getting home in time anyway, she might as well stick this out, whatever 'this' was.
Tyr's eyes lit up with the admission. "We could use all the help we can get, I think," he said, giving her a grateful smile.
She was not prepared for the smile. She felt rather like she'd been run over by a cart, and she felt her cheeks heating up again. "Oh, well, of course. Whatever I can." The Nala look-alike behind her bursting out laughing was entirely uncalled for, and she could feel the rest of her face joining her cheeks.
"If you can be of use, please proceed," Fey prompted her frostily, stepping away from the table to circle to where Tyr was, standing over him protectively. He was still examining the map and missed the interplay, as usual.
Amaryllis carefully sidled around the possessive Altmer and her man to study the map. "Well, you can thank Nala, because I can actually help a little. She uh, showed my Uncle up a few years ago, and that embarrassment sent me scurrying to learn what I could about shields, including the shields used in the city. Like this one? That's the right place for the Archives, and that one looks like the Defense Counsel. These in this district belong to Brewers' Guild. They're always hiding brewing secrets from other members and outside competition..." She stayed at the maps, labeling shielded areas until she felt her eyes crossing. She finally stood up to stretch her back.
Some kind soul had put a steaming cup of tea at her elbow. Mittens had moved from his hallway bench to the one along the wall, cuddling a sleeping Pearl. Fey and Tyr were watching the map Sorcha was detailing Amaryllis's shield knowledge on in short, neat notations. Wemie was studying the map, looking for a pattern, and Ama was curled in a corner, petting the crooked tailed cat.
The tea was warm and soothing, and Amaryllis used the warmth to help uncramp her poor fingers and soothe the sore throat. "I'm sorry, that's all I can remember."
"Geez, imagine how much she might have remembered if you hadn't scared her out of her wits, Fey," the Nala look-alike sniggered.
A massive warm hand patted Amaryllis on the back, she turned around face to chest with the largest man she'd ever seen. Somehow, seeing him across the room hadn't prepared her for his hulking presence right next to her. "Thank you, Amaryllis, that's well a day more than we had before your timely visit." She could only nod at this point. His voice was deep and positively resonated in her back teeth. The worry crowding his eyes did nothing to hide how kind they were, or how long those lashes were…too bad there was a distinctive ring on his finger. The good ones were always taken.
Ama called her over to sit with her. Intrigued by her rather easy going and artless manner, Amaryllis settled into the seat next to her. "I feel your pain. All that yummy, and it's all taken."
Amaryllis felt her cheeks heating again. "I'm not…I mean, I wasn't…"
"My old boss is downstairs," Sorcha flung out from the table, "If you're looking for someone to kill off for a fortune, anyway. The pretty boys will positively flock to you then. Of course, most of them will be fops…"
Ducking her head in her hands, Amaryllis groaned. "Even if it turns out I've gotten myself disowned for doing the right thing? Come to think of it, why on Nirn would I want to subject myself to a lifetime of that…that…." She couldn't think of a proper word for it, clenching her teeth on saying more. Running from her discontent into her studies was getting harder and harder, but she had nowhere else to go.
"Mind-numbing, pulse-dulling, senseless prattle? You're upper-middle class, aren't you? Might as well be a piece of livestock," Sorcha said, not pulling her punches in the least.
"Social straightjacket," Amaryllis confirmed, then groaned. "But now what do I do?" Now that the work was done, the panic was starting to set in. Joking aside, what if they really disowned her for this? Or cut her off from the University? She had no scholarships to continue without their support, even if they decided to let her out of the house without a servant to watch her.
"Don't worry about it," Sorcha laughed, not entirely nicely. Her eyes gleamed with humor as she looked the younger mage over, "If nothing else, we can give you a lift to Winterhold."
"And pay for college how?" Amaryllis shook her head dully. "Father does not let me keep my own purse."
"Not a problem with this bunch, especially given the bloodlines in this room," the Breton replied, then put down her empty teacup. "Speaking of which, I have a father to check on and a fiance to…you know, he might pounce on me first? I'm rather interested to see."
Amaryllis felt her cheeks heating, though what sort of talk did she expect to find in a House of Sanguine? Ama, watching her discomfort, laughed softly, but still put a friendly arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, we'll find our own pretties to pounce on us." Not for the last time, Amaryllis wondered just what she'd gotten herself into.
Wemie looked up from the map. "It might be a good idea to go home, in any case."
Ama and Amaryllis both looked up at her, puzzlement clear on their faces. "Uh, why? Why send her back to those sticks in the mud?"
"Because we don't need that uncle she mentioned calling an alarm?" Wemie supplied. "Oh, by no means do I think you should stay, especially if they're as demeaning as all that, but for now? To buy us time? I'd consider it a favor."
"It makes sense, much as I hate it," Amaryllis sighed, both dejected and relieved as she thought of a way to avoid censure. "I'll stop by the bookstore. They'll easily believe I spent all day sulking in books."
"Good girl. Keep in touch." Wemie nodded encouragingly.
"I'ma follow, just to make sure she makes it safe and all," Ama casually offered.
Wemie looked conflicted. "Ama, they've already targeted one of us. She may be safer without you tagging along."
Ama cocked her head and spun around for Wemie's consideration. "Item the first: they already took the sister to hook the scariest mer of them all. Item the second, I know how to not be seen. Item the third: I'm not staying cooped up in here. Maybe I'll hear something at the bar on my way back we'd find useful. Not to mention putting our homegrown team on lookout. Right?" Ama huffed. "I'll even brown up before I go out. Okay mother hen?"
Wemie shook her head. "Fine, brown up and check in with your rascals. Be back before nightfall."
"Yes, Mother." Ama grinned at Amaryllis and offered her an arm. "Shall we shenanigan?"
"All this time, I thought Nala was the crazed one." Amaryllis muttered as she accepted the madcat's arm. Ama laughed all the way to the door, grabbing her brown dye on the way out.
.
.
It felt as if she'd been walking for days or hours. Either was possible at this point. The dawn hadn't come, but considering it was controlled by a Mad God, it might never if she couldn't break him out of whatever mood he was currently in. It wasn't like he would hold it to stay in bed longer, he didn't sleep.
There was nothing on the path with her, the road even more pitted and dismal than usual. The moss on the rocks had faded in color to match the stone itself, several shades darker than the flat, unleavened grey of the sky above. It started drizzling even as she looked up at it.
"Oh darling, you've been moping. Welp, time to fix that." Telki thought a moment, then shrugged. So far, she had waited for him to realize she was there, but apparently she needed to knock. "Where, oh where, oh where's my Rommy? Where, oh where, oh Where's my Rommy? Where, oh where, oh where's my Rommy? Where can he beeeeee?" Telki picked a direction, and started walking, occasionally twirling the Wabbajack in time with her song.
Strangely, the drizzle continued into the silence, the whole of the Shivering Isles hushed as if it were empty. Rain pattered down on the path around her, streaming off the lids of the giant mushrooms, which glowed softly in the gloom with a dulled version of their normal green phosphorescence. Several minutes passed with no changes, not even thunder from the continuously weeping sky.
Usually, walking in rainy weather was one of Telki's favorite things, but this was a cold, clammy drizzle, and even the air smelled heavy and wrong, not the fresh fragrance of a rain washed afternoon, but of deep regrets and thoughts best left forgotten, heavy with the almost too sweet and smoky fragrance from the giant 'shrooms. She was also more than a little miffed he was ignoring his song.
"LOK VAH KOOR!" If that didn't get his attention, she'd eat the Wabbajack without sauce. She was fairly sure she was in no danger of a high fiber diet.
The clouds paused, raindrops hovering in the air for a moment before heading back up into the sky. The clouds rolled grudgingly away, revealing a sky of velvety blackness, the stars so tiny and far they might have been forbidden to shine. A tinge of red to her front and right was the only color to be seen.
"Well, at least he left a light on for me." Telki trudged towards the red light, humming Rommy's song as she went.
Something rustled just off the path, bursting out to rush at her, snarling. She walloped it with the Wabbajack. "No!"
The creature yelped, bending its head away then slinking around her, still growling. It looked like a hound, only hounds normally had skin.
"Now, shut that nonsense up, and take me to him. Hear me?" Telki tapped her foot at it, wondering what imagination birthed the poor skinless hound. "Behave yourself, and I'll make you a sweater; that can't be comfortable."
Baleful red eyes stared out of empty sockets, their slight glow bobbing as its gaze traveled over her. Still slinking, it moved around her and vanished into the brush on the other side of the pathway.
"Of course, we have to leave the path." Telki followed, still humming, still swinging the Wabbajack. She idly wondered if she could make him a fur coat. Shor knew she had enough wolf pelts.
She wasn't nearly as blasé about the attack as she seemed. Telki had never been attacked in the Isles. She figured it was one of three scenarios. The first scenario was the simplest: a case of mistaken identity or simply failing to identify target. The second was a little more worrisome: someone taking advantage while Rommy wasn't himself. The third one meant she'd have to rescue Rommy from a hostile takeover. She was really hoping for the first scenario, but wouldn't bat a lash if it were the third. It really seemed to be how her luck was running these days.
Abruptly, the Skinned Hound yelped, darting to the side as a tree whipped itself around to swat at it. Tearing its roots out of the ground, a bug-like head turned with the creaking of wood to look from the Hound to Telki. The moment its focus shifted, the undead creature raced off, leaving her to deal with the Spriggan-like being.
"Well, hello there. How're you?"
A woody hand made a throwing gesture at her, then raced forward with a strange shriek. Telki raised an eyebrow, and then Wabbajacked it, making it explode outward in a burst of flour, coating the area in white.
Yeah, she was going to have to rescue his tail, and boy, she was never going to let him live it down.
Ever.
The red light flared with a loud crash before dimming, drawing her gaze to her left. Things seemed brighter in that direction, the mist taking on a slight glow that danced across the dismal, dark bark of the surrounding trees and the bases of the giant mushrooms.
"Right then, follow the glow it is." Telki walked that way with a light step and all her courage in both hands. She knew she was not only dealing with whatever took advantage of Rommy's state , but the full weight of his cursed depression, so she kept a light hum, a light step, and all her cheerfulness despite how she wanted to weep for him.
The mist brightened the further she went, the air becoming less sweet and almost charred, like pastries left in the oven too long. The gurgling of water cut through a faint crackling sound, much like last year's leaves being trampled underfoot.
"Do you know, your Telki loves you? Your Telki loves you, Your Telki loves you? Do you know, your Telki loves you? Loves you so much?" Telki wrinkled her nose at the smell, but kept singing. "I love you this way, I'll love you that way, and I'll love you-u everyday. Do you know, your Telki loves you? Loves you so much." She very nearly lost her nerve, when she saw the water on fire.
The ribbon of orange light ran in either direction, the current as confused as the element. The crackling was from the flora that grew too close to the bank, but the light was oddly contained by the corridor of mist on either side, arching and flowing over the tunnel of firelight as if it were liquid itself.
She Wabbajacked the water. An angry, fiery grummite ran out of it at her, waving a sock.
"Down boy! Or I'll 'jack you, too!" Telki warned, giving him time to stand down before she added even more to undo once she dealt with Rommy. She sighed when he didn't slow his charge and Wabbajacked him. He gurgled, then stretched, his flat mouth shooting out from his face to become a large, flat maw, though his razor teeth remained. His arms grew to almost the size of Telki, covered in scales like an Argonian with claws to match.
Telki wanted to rub the bridge of her nose. Of course, it would decide to become bigger, badder, and more impressively dangerous, wouldn't it? "Why couldn't it have been butterflies? Fus Ro Dah!"
The creature went flying over the fiery stream to land on the other bank, roaring displeasure that quickly turned to a gurgle as a small shadow darted in, cackling madly. It straightened, stretched, then turned, waving jauntily when it saw her. "Madness is merry, and merriment's might, when the jester comes calling with his knife in the night!" he sang, pushing the creature into the stream and dancing across its corpse to land with a flourish beside her. "Dearest sweet Swaddler Lady, what are you doing playing with Daedroths? Did you want to stab someone? Cicero will help! Dearest Cicero will oblige!"
"Hey sweetie, how are you? I'm looking for a Rommy, or a Sheo, or whoever he thinks he is right now. Have you seen him?"
The Duke paused, giving her a solemn look. "Dear Queen should be avoiding our Dear King right now. He is…unfit company." Brightening considerably, he linked arms with her and pulled her along the bank, "But, oh, do come wait for him in Mania! Mother has missed you! And the small bloody-haired children!"
"Cicero, sweet Cicero, I have come to claim my king, and I mean to do just that. Once I have him back to himself I'll be happy to visit whomever you wish, but I have to get Rommy first."
Sighing theatrically, the jester only singsonged, "Don't say I didn't warn you."
"And I thank you kindly, I do. But this needs doing." Telki dropped a kiss on the Duke's forehead. "Now, can you point me the way? Or must I find him on my own?"
Patting her hand in a kindly gesture slightly ruined by the drops of blood across his fingers, he assured her, "Cicero will lead you where you need to be, but do not blame poor Cicero if you do not like what you find."
"I'm not expecting roses and rainbows, Cicero; he shared the moment that caused his madness, and I wouldn't blame you, regardless."
"Good. Cicero needs his fingers. Hard to oil Mother without fingers."
Telki gave Cicero a quizzical look. "Do I want an explanation for why blaming you would cost you fingers?"
"Well after the Dutchess…" he slanted a glance at her and burst into nervous giggling. "Oh, never you mind! Never mind! Good Cicero will keep his lips shut on that! All will be better with a few stitches!"
Telki sighed. Everytime she heard about this Dutchess, she wondered if she shouldn't just Wabbajack her into a sheep so she'd no longer be an issue. "Seriously, the more I hear about her, the more I'm just as glad I've not met her yet. I don't think it'd end well."
"She wishes to wear you as a dress," Cicero informed her, not sounding as if he thought this particularly horrible. "I do not think she'd have enough material."
"Well, a sheep pretty much has its own wool for a dress, which is exactly what would happen if she ever tried it." Telki replied blithely, twirling the Wabbajack between her fingers.
"Oooh! Can Cicero watch? Cicero does love," his voice dropped an octave, "lamb chops."
Telki giggled despite herself. "I suppose. Wouldn't mind having you guard my back in any case."
"Oh! Oh, I can, yes," Cicero cackled with joyful exuberance. "Cicero is most happy to do much stabbing for the sweet, gentle Swaddler Lady! Follow Cicero!" Taking her hands, he danced her dizzyingly down the curving, ever-changing road toward the center of the Isles.
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Don't ask.
Thank you everyone who read and reviewed!
GalacticHalfling: "Gifts" in my headcannon are any inborn abilities beyond normal. So the Dragonborn's Thu'um, for example, would be considered a Gift in this sense, though a Tongue's would not. Tyr has a sort of Gift in that he can sense people's motivations, and Telki's natural Sight is a Gift. Some of these, like Sight and the Thu'um, can be developed with work or spells, but in order to be considered a Gift it needs to be naturally present. Lee's Gift is hereditary. Anyone that learned to utilize the power of their Doom Stone/Star Sign would be considered to have a Gift. Altmer who can use Gift of the Highborn are Gifted, as I don't headcannon that anyone can use racial abilities.
The Celtic Dragon: I think it's safe to say that if a frequency is shattering stone everyone nearby is probably having a bad time.
afeleon276: Your comment left me filled with evil glee, so thanks for that. :D
Wynni: Life is going to exhaust me evermore. :/
KStormblade: :D They regressed Demeus magically. It wasn't a safe procedure, and I'm not sure if I ever mention, but they went through quite a few unsuccessful trials on others before he came out of it. It's touched on a bit more next chapter. I'm glad you're safe.
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Next chapter: Nala awakens in dire straights, and the conspirators' plots begin to bear fruit.