22. A Kitten, an Abomination, and Two Puppies


It felt strange, walking around without Lorelai at his side, and Ifan suddenly realized that he had not left her company once over the last two weeks. It was also unsettling to remember that they had known each other for only two weeks. Ifan supposed that the amount of time they spent together, essentially living together for so many days, forged a bond even within such a short time. They had been forced to depend on each other, to save one another from death, to keep secrets for each other, and to help each other fulfill important goals. Such events fostered trust.

Ifan had not trusted anyone in many years, not truly. Since Lucian, he had not forged a bond he could not break at a moment's notice. A fortnight, of course, could not engender the same kind of trust Ifan had had in Lucian, but parting ways with Lorelai still put a sour taste in Ifan's mouth, especially after the other day's battle.

Lorelai's physical affection was growing more intense, but it seemed more like a familial type—a mother hen, as she had put it earlier—while Ifan felt a different kind of attraction. He did not, of course, feel such a thing for her skeletal form, but nor was she as affectionate in that form. It was the pretty elf with the curly hair and caramel skin that constantly put him off-balance. Lorelai's personality was attractive to him as well, but he would have been perfectly content as friends if not for an interest in the physical. Yet, the elf was not even her true physical form. Also, she was four thousand years old. And dead. Undead.

In short, Ifan was confused.

Ifan had decided to do some thinking while helping determine how to make the ship move, but he was getting nowhere in either task. He had come to no definitive conclusions about his feelings, and the fact that this ship was carved from an ancient Livewood tree was infuriating enough that Ifan could hardly concentrate on his investigation. Ifan knew about Livewood; his adopted parents had taught him. The thought of the home of an elven soul being disfigured and branded to follow the whim of a magister was disgusting.

Thus, Ifan was already in a bad mood when a loud conversation from the other side of the third sub-deck drew his attention. He wandered over, his hands in his pockets, and was met with a prison cell occupied by a woman and someone on a bed. The woman was yelling her name and rank to drown out the questions and insults from the guard.

"You and your beloved Divine ain't getting no mercy from the Seekers," the guard growled. "The sooner you talk, the better it'll be for both of you."

The woman inside the cell glowered and took a breath to begin reciting again.

Ifan hurried to the cage and peered through the bars. Sure enough, the body of Divine Alexander was lying prone on the bed. Ifan saw his chest rise and fall. He was still alive.

"He was dead," Ifan said in disbelief. "I saw the bolt go through his heart."

"You'll have to try better than that to kill our Divine!" the magister in the cage snapped back, her eyes blazing with fury. "You rebels will never succeed!"

"Oh, bugger off," the guard retorted. She looked to Ifan. "We all thought he was dead," she explained, "but someone checked him just before we left. The bastard was breathing, so we decided to bring him aboard as our captive."

Ifan curled his fingers into a fist but forced his voice to be amicable. "Mind if I go in there for bit?" he asked.

"Er, I'm not supposed to let anyone in…" the guard replied hesitantly, shuffling her feet.

"I'd like to see where my shot went wrong," Ifan explained in a carefully calm voice.

The guard bit her lip and looked him up and down before giving him a nod. She scrounged through her pocket and retrieved a rusty key. "One moment," she said. "I'll unlock it for ya."

The guard cast Ifan a nervous glance as she slipped the key into the lock and turned it, but Ifan could not fathom why. Only after she opened the door and beckoned that he enter the cell did Ifan realize his lips were curled into a snarl. He must have looked positively feral.

"Thank you," Ifan said. He offered the guard a smile and an exaggerated bow before he entered the cell. The guard relaxed, her expression put at ease, and closed the cell door behind him.

"W-wait," the magister said as Ifan stalked towards Alexander's unconscious body. She grabbed his arm in an attempt to halt his progress, but the growl he sent her had her skittering back to the opposite corner of the cell.

When Ifan made it to the bed, he halted. He gazed down at Alexander. The man looked so peaceful lying there, as though he had not a care in the world. This man, the one who tormented sorcerers, who imprisoned even children, who turned people into Silent Monks, who ordered crucifixions for his own protection, who committed so many atrocities, did not deserve to be at peace.

The man who would know why the elves had been massacred did not deserve to be at peace.

Hit with a surge of rage so intense that it overwhelmed any other senses he had, Ifan punched Alexander hard in the face.

"Why didn't you give the elves a chance to escape?" he roared. "Why did the Order trigger the Deathfog early?"

Alexander did not stir. His face was as peaceful as ever, barring a quickly forming bruise on the side of his jaw.

"Wake up!" Ifan ordered, furiously, this time punching the man on the cheek.

Alexander's lip split and began to bleed, but he still did not stir.

"Answer me, you bastard!" Ifan yelled, pummeling Alexander with desperate abandon.

Alexander's face snapped back and forth, but not even the rhythm of his breath changed.

"I believe someone once said that dead men tell no tales," a voice said coolly from behind him. Ifan paused, regaining his mind, and slowly lowered his hand.

Ifan closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, only turning around when his heart rate slowed to a reasonable pace.

A smirking elf was standing just outside the cell. She had a tight grip on the guard's arm as though preventing her from interrupting Ifan. "It seems you are not so good a mercenary as you pretend to be, kitten," Sebille continued. "What is more important, hm? Completing the contract, or getting your precious information?"

Ifan bared his teeth at her, but she only chuckled. Ifan ignored the softly crying magister in the corner as he stalked out of the cell, just barely keeping himself from slamming the metal door behind him. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at Sebille. After a moment, she released the guard's arm and stepped away. The guard gave both Ifan and Sebille a withering glare but did not speak.

"Personally," Sebille drawled, "I would choose revenge over information."

"You'd rather have questions forever than hold a grudge?" Ifan replied.

"Oh, many people know the answer to a single question," Sebille dismissed. "Only one person is the object of the grudge." She shrugged languidly and turned away from Ifan. "I notice that you are rather… guilt-ridden by the Deathfog calamity," Sebille commented as she walked.

Ifan winced but followed her resignedly. "Perhaps," he said.

"Yes. Perhaps," Sebille mused. "Perhaps you played a direct role in it? Perhaps you are hiding some pertinent information? Perhaps you cannot ruin our sweet Lorelai's loving opinion of you by revealing this role or information?"

Ifan glanced at Sebille warily, and she offered him a crafty smile.

"Worry not, kitten," she assured him. "I care little for your mistakes. I shan't speak a word."

Ifan nodded, internally relieved.

"However," Sebille added in a tone as cutting as a honed dagger, "our mutual friend seemed quite distraught over the Deathfog news." Sebille eyed Ifan out of the corner of her eye. "I admit that I have grown fond of Lorelai, and I do not appreciate anyone who would cause her harm—physical or mental. Do tread carefully."

With that, Sebille squeezed Ifan's shoulder in a tight grip before slinking away. Ifan halted and sighed. Forging bonds was far more inconvenient than keeping himself distant.

xXxXxXx

"Oh, it's you," the Seeker standing near the ship's figurehead growled, "the abomination."

Lorelai was wearing her mask, so she smiled warmly at the glaring Seeker. "You know," she commented, "you remind me of the magisters. Many have said the same thing about me being a sorcerer."

The Seeker recoiled as though struck. "It's not the same!" she cried defensively. "I'm nothing like a magister."

"I wish I possessed your conviction," Lorelai replied diplomatically. She gave the wide-eyed Seeker a shallow bow and approached the figurehead.

"Be… careful," the Seeker muttered. Lorelai turned in surprise to see the Seeker looking down at her feet, a chastised expression in her face. "It burns people if they touch it."

Lorelai blinked, dumbfounded by the Seeker's change, then gave the woman a brilliant grin. "I truly appreciate your concern for my well-being," Lorelai said.

The Seeker gave Lorelai a stiff nod, lingered awkwardly for a moment, then walked away briskly. Lorelai sighed with delight, aware that she had likely inspired someone to challenge preconceived beliefs about the Undead. Lorelai only hoped she could replicate this incident with others.

After another moment of basking in her success, Lorelai returned to the task at hand: waking the ship. She and Fane had searched the ship and found a songbook in Dallis's room that was written in Lizard Tongue. Since the ship had a lizard slave mark, it made sense to Lorelai that lizard commands would wake it. If not, then they were no worse off than before.

Lorelai took a deep breath and sang the words, carefully pronouncing each syllable. When she fell silent, there was a heartrending moment of stillness. Lorelai slumped resignedly, then the figurehead began to twitch. Soon, the wooden head of a dragon twisted its neck to face her.

"You are not Dallis," the figurehead observed in the melodic voice of a woman. She was suspicious, nearly hostile, so Lorelai gave her a small bow.

"No," Lorelai murmured. "We—a group of Seekers and sorcerers—have taken control of this vessel."

"Ah, a new master to serve," the figurehead said bitterly.

"If anyone attempts to order you as though you were a slave," Lorelai growled savagely, "then I shall personally eviscerate them. You are my proud kinsman, my sister, and I shall never allow you to suffer under a master again."

The figurehead was silent as she stared at Lorelai. "…You honor me, my sister," the figurehead eventually spoke, "but I am hardly your kinsman anymore. I am nothing but this… thing. This abomination."

"Never call yourself that," Lorelai said firmly, this time in Elven. "Never allow others to degrade you in such a manner either." Lorelai gently peeled the mask from her face and allowed her body to return to its natural state. The figurehead tilted her head in surprise. "You are no less a true elf than I," Lorelai said. "Our bodies may be different, but our souls are elven."

The figurehead studied Lorelai, then dipped her head. "Indeed," she murmured in the same language. "I thank you, my sister."

"There is no need," Lorelai replied. "My name is Lorelai. Who are you?"

"I have long since forgotten what I was called," the figurehead admitted. "You may call me the Lady Vengeance if you please, for that is who I am."

"I see you, Lady Vengeance," Lorelai said gravely.

"I see you, Lorelai," the Lady Vengeance replied. There was a companionable silence until the Lady Vengeance turned to look back out into the sea. "I shall take you wherever you wish to go," she said. "All I ask is that you do not let Dallis control me again."

"I promise," Lorelai said, "and I thank you."

"There is no need. Now, where is your destination?"

"Would you mind taking us to the Reaper's Coast?"

"It would be my pleasure."

Lorelai offered her thanks one more time, and the deck of the Lady Vengeance shuddered before the entire ship began to move. The Lady Vengeance seemed to be concentrating on her task now, so Lorelai left her. She returned to the hull where Malady was surveying the ship with a smile.

"I see you have succeeded," Malady said when Lorelai joined her. "Excellent."

"I asked the Lady Vengeance to take us to the Reaper's Coast," Lorelai said. "That is where everything to do is, yes?"

"Mm, yes," Malady said. "The Meistr will be waiting."

"Will this Meistr help us return to the Hall of Echoes?" Lorelai inquired.

"Probably," Malady replied airily. "How else are you to meet your god again?"

Lorelai huffed. "I have very little desire to do so, but it seems necessary."

"Not very pious, are we?" Malady said derisively.

"No, not very," Lorelai agreed. "There is no divine of the Undead, after all. Everyone else seems to have one."

Malady laughed. "Very true, little pup," she said.

"'Little pup?'" Lorelai echoed thoughtfully. "Quite adorable, I must admit. I have been called 'kitten' and various other terms of endearment, but I do like yours."

Malady tapped her chin, an enigmatic smile on her face. "Cute," she stated dryly. "It is quite difficult to believe that you are the Godwoken."

"If you would prefer Alexander…?"

"Ugh. No. Run off now, little pup."

"I do enjoy being the lesser of two miseries," Lorelai sighed exaggeratedly. "Until we meet again. Which should be soon, since we are stuck on a ship together."

"Thank you for reminding me," Malady said.

Lorelai still could not discern if Malady was amused or irritated, but she supposed it did not matter. She gave Malady a quick bow and made her way to the hatch that led to the first sub-deck. She trotted down the stairs and peered into the deck. She quickly spotted Sebille hovering restlessly within the nearby shadows, so Lorelai gave the elf a wave.

Sebille smiled and slipped to Lorelai's side. "I see you have inspired the ship to move," Sebille commented.

"Yes…" Lorelai hummed thoughtfully. "I am glad we took this ship, as the soul of the dear elf was bound in slavery to Dallis. Hopefully, we shall prevent the Lady Vengeance from suffering thus ever again."

"Very good, darling," Sebille said. "Are we headed to the Reaper's Coast?"

"Indeed we are," Lorelai said in satisfaction. "You and Ifan are set to meet Roost, I ought to meet this Meistr, and Fane shall visit the Blackpits."

"So much to do," Sebille complained. "Darling, I do believe you have picked up too many strays."

"There is no such thing," Lorelai disagreed with a laugh. "I am, however, uncommonly attached to you and Ifan. I have even warmed to Fane. He is rather intriguing."

"Yes, you have displayed your unbridled affection an excessive number of times over the past week," Sebille replied dryly.

Lorelai smiled internally and patted Sebille on the head. Sebille did not flinch, and Lorelai's nonexistent heart filled with prideful joy. She patted Sebille once more on the head. Sebille raised her eyebrow at Lorelai but did not comment.

"Speaking of Ifan and Fane," Lorelai said, "have you seen them?"

"Oh, I did see the puppy," Sebille purred with an enigmatic smirk. "He was belowdecks…" Sebille glanced at Lorelai out of the corner of her eye. "With Alexander," she said.

Lorelai nodded thoughtfully as she headed towards the next stairwell down. "Yes, I did notice he was alive," Lorelai murmured.

"Oh, really?"

"It was strange," Lorelai continued, "as I did see Alexander get hit with what should have been a killing blow, yet he survived. I did not sense any magical shield or the like that could have impeded the shot. Thus, it could have been dumb luck, or…"

"Something suspicious happened," Sebille finished for her. "Is that why you did not mention a thing to Ifan or me?"

Lorelai nodded distractedly while she tapped her bony fingers against the railing of the staircase. She felt the reverberations, but not the details of the texture; she could not decide whether it was comforting or disappointing. She missed touch, but it was still stressful and unfamiliar.

"Alexander may know about the strange things happening," Lorelai said. "He may not. He can always be killed—permanently, I mean. There is no harm in letting him remain alive for now."

"Will you tell Ifan that you knew Alexander was alive after the battle?" Sebille asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes, absolutely," Lorelai replied. "I do not wish to hide things from Ifan."

Sebille smiled thinly. "Do you think he feels the same?"

Lorelai shrugged with a nonchalance that she did not feel. "I think he does, yes," she said, "but I would not blame him if he did not."

"How generous," Sebille murmured.

"How about you?" Lorelai inquired. Scouring the deck for Ifan, she ignored the people recoiling from her skeletal figure.

"I feel no need to hide things from you at this point," Sebille replied cautiously. "You already know my dark past."

"Ah, friendship," Lorelai sighed happily. "I enjoy it very much."

"Mm," was Sebille's apparently disinterested reply.

Lorelai chuckled under her breath and gave Sebille a final gentle pat on the head. She spotted Ifan pacing like a caged wolf, tension clear in his movements and demeanor, so she approached cautiously.

"Ifan, dear one," Lorelai called out in a gentle voice. Ifan halted instantly, squared his shoulders, and spun to give Lorelai a sharp-toothed grin.

"There she is," he said cheerfully, no negativity to be found. "I was wondering where everyone's favorite Godwoken went." He looked around and folded his arms across his chest. "You got the ship moving, eh?"

"I did indeed."

"Nice work," Ifan praised her with a twinkle in his eye. "Looks like I didn't succeed as well as you. Alexander's still alive."

"Yes, I knew even before we boarded the ship," Lorelai told him. "I apologize for not mentioning anything, but the circumstances were curious."

Ifan gazed at her with an inscrutable expression for a moment, then gave her a nonchalant shrug. "Tell me next time, okay?" he said. He smiled again. "Although… next time, I'll make sure for myself."

"Look how honest our Lorelai is!" Sebille called out, raising an eyebrow at Ifan. Ifan curled his lip at her and growled animalistically. "Adorable," Sebille commented with a smirk of her own.

"We are all rather adorable, I believe," Lorelai interjected before the pair could continue their passive-aggressive battle. "I am planning to wander about the ship and chat with the various rodents. Whoever may wish to is free to join me."

"Fine," Sebille answered airily, "but I shall be flipping a coin."

"For what?"

Sebille shrugged languidly. "For luck."

Lorelai laughed softly and nodded. "Ifan?" she inquired.

After a moment of thought, Ifan shook his head. "I'll keep to myself for now," he said gruffly. "Maybe in a bit."

Lorelai smothered the surge of disappointment and simply dipped her head. "We shall speak soon, then," Lorelai decided.