Alois and Claude 6

Claude had listened to the Undertaker's words carefully. He had understood the gravitas of dealing with forces beyond mortal control. They were apparently not dealing with human perpetrators in this investigation. Daniel Cantwell was a sacrifice in this little game of theirs. His death was allegedly the work of a powerful warlock operating with impunity in London, free of persecution and suspicion. The wish had yet to be given. The demon from the pendant still awaited instruction, somewhere. When pressed for a name by his young master, the Undertaker pleaded ignorance. Claude did not approve of this withholding of information. This investigation would never likely cease without finding this warlock and establishing their motives for the framing of the Trancy name. And then Claude would never get his soul willingly: he would have to take it by force. The demon cleared his throat.

"Sir, kindly do us of the courtesy of telling the truth as opposed to further riddles. We would hate to have to use…other methods to achieve our goals." Claude said whilst adjusting his spectacles. Undertaker looked unimpressed.

"Threats of physical violence, Mr Butler? Do I really look the sort?"

"He wasn't threatening you, idiot." Alois said with a smile his servant could only ever describe as wicked, "He was threatening your livelihood. Do you find fire pretty?" Claude was somewhat glad to know his slum-rat master was aware of the endgame at this time. Undertaker grinned in return.

"Arson, is it? Burn down my business and then I'll crack wide open, will I?"

"Not at first. Nobody does at first. But that's before they rebuild. And when we burn that down, then the cracks begin. And if we don't clear my name quickly, revenge against you is all we'll have to pass the time." Alois explained with dark glee. Undertaker replied with a haphazard shrug of his shoulders.

"Ever thought I might just kill you instead? Scotland Yard would be happy…your servant too, I imagine. What's there to stop me?" The boy openly scoffed at this.

"My contract with Claude isn't written in crayon: if I die without having my revenge, he gets nothing whatsoever. He knows it's in his best interests to keep me breathing until then."

"In that case, we've reached a stalemate, Earl Trancy. So, let's call off the threats and part ways without a fuss."

Claude watched his master consider the matter for almost fifteen seconds, thirteen seconds longer than he gave any matter in life. The result proved surprisingly cerebral. "Do you want me to die?" Alois asked their manic host. Undertaker's grin grew even wider.

"I wouldn't say I was against the idea. Why?"

"Give us the warlock's name, and Claude will get his reward quicker. Keep refusing for the sake of being a sod and you'll keep him hanging on for all of time. What do you say? Want to see him gut me like a trout?" The demon butler was impressed by this tactic. Nothing showed on his face to corroborate this sentiment, but he was impressed nevertheless. For a human to use the gruesomeness and speed of his death as a bargaining tool was something Claude had not witnessed for many centuries. He was even more impressed by Undertaker's agreement to this offer.

"Warlock's name is Aragon. You'll find him somewhere in Piccadilly or Hammersmith."

"Those places are six bloody miles apart." Alois said in a barely restrained voice. Claude saw the hatred and contempt beginning to burn in the boy's eyes. Such sentiments had only flared earlier. It seemed his master had again consigned an acquaintance to the depths of his most loathsome enemies. The demon was almost certain he was the only individual not held in this lowest of regards. Undertaker was unsympathetic.

"Then I suggest you check both. It'll be quite obvious if he's about or not: he isn't exactly quiet about his abilities."

"It's a good job your usual customers are dead, isn't it? They've got no choice but to listen to a cackling prat like you until they go underground. At least I can leave."

"For now, at least. By the end of this investigation…I imagine you'll be back here, and just as cooperative as all my other clients." Undertaker said with the clear intent of seeing Alois returned to his parlour in a wooden box. Claude watched the boy bite his tongue and turn to leave. That too was an impressive spectacle. Normally Alois would flash violently at anything that so slightly offended him. Gouging out eyes and shrill orders to rip out tongues were commonplace in the Trancy household. They left without another word said.

"What are your orders now, Highness?" Claude asked when they were almost two streets away from the parlour. Alois huffed.

"He wants us to find this warlock, Claude. And he wants me to die in agony." The boy glanced up at the demon butler with a dejected expression, "Do you honestly think I can't put two and two together? If we find this warlock that killed Cantwell, what are we going to do?"

"You will give your orders and I will bring you his head, Master." Claude answered without any trace of concern. He was more than confident of disposing of a simple magician. During the fifth century alone he had slaughtered thousands of warlocks and conjurers under such orders, always emerging unscathed. As far as he could tell, all that remained of this mystery was the simple logistical puzzle of finding Aragon. Everything else was a foregone conclusion. Alois mustered a grateful smile.

"You won't let me die then? I don't…I don't want to end up in that shit's parlour." Claude could understand that sentiment. Once the soul had left, the demon had no further interest in the body. He thought it best such lifeless husks were immediately burned to ash. He would gladly dispose of Alois' corpse when the time came. To play and taunt the dead as this Undertaker clearly delighted in doing was unpalatable…even for a demon. Claude crouched down beside the youth and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I promise you will not. When the time comes, I will tend to your remains personally."

"Do you know what I want, after all this is over, Claude?" Alois asked, speaking of when their mutual contract was finally fulfilled. Claude's other hand fell on the boy's opposite shoulder and squeezed gently.

"You want to be buried where spiders make their beautiful traps, Highness. You want to sleep in a cocoon of pure silk until eternity ends." The demon said drawing on a now almost encyclopaedic knowledge of his master's childish wants and wishes. This desire for his body to be encased in spider silk and buried deep in the woods was a wish Alois expressed weekly. It was a suitably morbid close to these proceedings, when all was said and done. The boy gave him a happy smile.

"Yes. I want the worms and maggots to burrow through my eyes and crawl out my nose and ears. All the while, spiders dance not far above me. That would be such a beautiful existence. So peaceful." Alois said in soft agreement. Claude was always fascinated by his master's bizarre romanticism of death and decay. He was of the opinion only lunatics and undertakers spoke of such endings as beautiful…until he found Alois.

"I am certain you will relish the experience, Highness. However, remember that you are a beautiful creature now and will always be of greater value alive than dead and buried. The end is coming, Sir, but not at the close of this investigation. That comes much later." Claude responded, slightly curious at the sincerity in his voice. It was almost akin to human sentiment. Either his acting was improving or his master's melancholy and innate darkness were once again alluring enough to fool him into believing otherwise. "Would you like a hug, Highness? To boost your ailing spirits?" Green eyes grew impossibly bright at the prospect of intimacy, Alois' only true fallacy in Claude's opinion. Then another twist. The brightness shrank back, replaced by the cold edge of pragmatism.

"I think that comes much later too, Claude. Hands off." Claude relinquished his hold immediately and reared back up to full height. "Even if this is that undertaker's twisted version of a treasure hunt, this warlock bastard still framed me for the crime and kept that widow very tight-lipped. He's not getting away with bloodying my reputation. He's had his sacrificial lamb: he's not getting another one when I come knocking. What do warlocks wish for?"

"In my experience, they always wish for power and dominion over a civilisation."

"Are we enslaved yet, Claude?"

"Not so far as I can see."

"So, he's either holding off on seizing absolute power or he's wished for something else. Can he wish to be invincible?"

"No."

"Why?"

"A summoning charm of that size cannot grant immortality to a mortal being, nor give mortality to the immortal. There must always be a safety to such wishes."

"So, if it's not power or immortality he wants, what is it?"

"Perhaps knowledge. It is after all the basis of all power in this world."

"And what do you suppose a warlock like him would actually want to know?"

"Perhaps the location of the larger and more formidable summoning charms still active in the world."

"Can't he just wish he owned them?"

"Again, the summoning charm in question is not powerful enough to accomplish such a feat. It can reveal their locations, but not physically deliver them into his possession."

"And if he gets those charms…then immortality and power?"

"I would guess so, Highness. It is the logical path of all human beings on this planet." Claude said matter-of-factly. Alois narrowed his eyes.

"Would you explain me like that, Claude?"

"You used your own personal charms to get into Trancy's graces, then summoned me and usurped his dominion. Now you are one of the most powerful individuals in England. There are certain parallels one must draw to our current circumstances." The demon explained serenely. Human beings as a species were transparent to Claude. Their wants and needs were all essentially same with only minor differences to distinguish one person from another. Even Alois' combination of bloodlust, cruelty and melancholy were not unique: he had served a dozen masters almost identical in attitude and temperament. Where the boy did distinguish himself from the rest of the cattle was his reaction to this sleight against his species. Alois shrugged.

"Fair enough. Let's make a start on finding this idiot warlock. I'd like his head over the fireplace by lunch tomorrow. I want Piccadilly and Hammersmith searched by midday."

Claude took a brief glance at his pocket watch: eleven-fifty-six. His master wished him to search areas dozens of square miles in size and locate their quarry inside of four minutes. Others of Alois' disposition would threaten and verbally assault him for speaking so brazenly: the boy tended to respond by issuing a challenge that genuinely tested the limits of Claude's abilities. The demon relished these moments to stretch himself. He bowed.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Claude's speed of movement was tempered by his human form: he could move infinitely faster when intangible. Despite this handicap, the demon progressed through Piccadilly within two minutes and hurtled towards Hammersmith. This area of the city proved more difficult to comb with the same efficiency. Time was whittled down from minutes to bare seconds without success. He was almost finished with his search radius when a conversation of two men outside a dilapidated pub caught his attention. They mentioned a stage show and a man named Aragon as its chief performer. The Green Dragon Theatre. Tonight. Claude returned to his master, bowing again upon his return.

"We have a lead in Hammersmith's entertainment district, Highness. There is a magic show this evening that claims Aragon as its feature attraction. I have tickets." The demon said displaying two for the boy's inspection.

"Who'd you kill for these, Claude?" Alois asked snatching them for a closer look.

"No-one of consequence. Are you ready to end this investigation of yours?"

"Let's go kill his rabbits. Bastard better have some if he wants idiots to pay attention."