"Your story is highly amusing, my dear. Normally, I wouldn't have the patience for such a long tale, but you've been an utter delight."
The Undertaker said, toasting me with a biscuit. I accepted the complement with a nod.
"I know it is not a typical method of payment. But as with most comedy, the timing is what matters the most. If you are bored, I can condense the whole affair."
He cackled, waving a chastising finger.
"No, no, no Schaherazade. You'll not deprive me of the end of this tale as it is meant to be heard. Carry on, I'm simply dying to know how this ends."
His playfully calling me that name did indeed help me relax. The famous story telling woman had used her stories to live another day. And did so by breaking off at a critical juncture and leaving her audience tantalized and eager to hear more. And if the Undertaker was calling me that, it was a good sign that even without a gut busting laugh, he found this amusing enough. So I shrugged nonchalantly.
"Well, spoiler alert: I lived."
He threw back his head and laughed, genuine mirth ringing through the air with a lightness and brightness that defied the death steeped atmosphere. I bided my time until he was quiet again, mentally checking the timer Morgana had running, then resumed my story.
-vVv-
The drugs helped me stay unconscious, which meant I didn't have to control my expression. Just tolerate him handling and touching me. The Story that we were following was being very strict about keeping to this point of absurdity. Or maybe it was just insisting on following it to allow the fangirls their chance to be saved by Sebastian.
I'd sooner gargle glass shards in vinegar than want or enjoy that. But competence is always nice to see. I just really want to be awake for it. And get Gwen her pound of flesh.
Regardless of the delusions that I was surrounded by, almost as potent as the sleeping gas that had rendered me unconscious, the Viscount's attention was not something to be desired. Morgana helpfully censored what his plans were, to help me focus rather than getting angry. The really explicit ones anyway. She did let me know what the gist of his intentions were.
If only you didn't have any further story appearances. Then I could just get rid of you. But no, you have to keep popping up like a bad penny!
I used the time instead to meditate about how to handle the man. He was a recurring character, so outright killing him wouldn't be feasible, it would make too large of a divergence. But he was a dangerous connection back to Ciel and Sebastian. His threat level was high because of his association with them.
They were relentless and the limits on Sebastian's abilities, thanks to the scope and scale of the contract between the boy and his demon, was too vaguely defined for my comfort. No, Gwen had to vanish into thin air without betraying that she was anything but a strangely placed young lady. They could not under any circumstances know I was from another world. I wanted to close off any possibilities of them finding a way to use the Crack to come back into Fiore. We had enough demon problems without the kind of nonsense that dogged their steps.
Though watching Sebastian try not to panic when he faces Mira would be interesting and unique. Ciel generally uses him as a universal remedy for any of his problems with very little finesse. And he's used to being able to solve it with ease too. Put him on the back foot and equal footing in a straight up brawl and my money would go on Mirajane every time.
It was a bit distasteful, but my best bet was probably going to be memory magic. I had to end this day with Gwen swanning off into the night without Ciel or Sebastian wanting to, or being able to find her again. I would take the latter option if the former was not feasible. But truth be told, both was the ideal outcome. And I was confident that both would still be possible at this point. Gwen hadn't been too interesting or portrayed herself as too useful. And I was most of the way to having Sebastian's Name to enforce the former. But that left the human element to consider.
The Viscount especially would definitely need some kind of memory magic to let Gwen escape from him. The same thing that kept me from killing him would let me cement my story into place. He was a recurring character in the Black Butler series, so any lingering connection with him would chance drawing me back if not properly tied off.
Possibly the Ferro Family as well. They too had that connection to the Phantomhives thanks to Sebastian eliminating a large number of them rescuing Ciel. Luckily this incident should be contained enough I would only need to travel to a few countries rather than the world to catch everyone I needed to to make the cover story stick.
Wait. World. I'm in a different world. A world has its own means of keeping living people's stories. The Cinematic Record.
Altering that record was still a bit...icky, but it should be entirely feasible. I just needed to get in contact with one of the Grim Reapers to copy whatever ability they possessed that allowed them to see the records. Then with some judicious editing, I could erase Gwen from the Viscount's memory and alter the events of the day into something that could let her disappear quietly into civilian life.
If I combine the Cinematic Record mechanic and Story Magic...yes, that should work. Gana?
86% chance of success at present. The Story will allow for alterations that enhance the desired narrative, not detract from it.
The OVA was a fanservice episode. Something lighthearted in a rather bleak part of the main story. Either before or after the debacle with the Book of Circus Arc. So I had to keep things light and playful to fit with the theme of the story I was playing a part in. So what kind of role could I play? The damsel didn't suit me. The assassin would get Gwen in trouble. Outing myself as a wizard was absolutely not an option.
I needed to write a false, but plausible Cinematic Record that altered Gwen's role in this world without mandating that she be caught up with the main characters. Once I had that strip of record, I could hook it up to Story Magic to give it validity, and then to Sebastian. He wasn't just a main character he was the titular one. His belief, oddly enough, would allow the comprehensive editing of Gwen's and let her become someone else.
There were a few characters, very few, who were enigmas in this world. Who had some knowledge of the supernatural with no explanation as to how they knew. The Undertaker had been one of them before he was revealed to be a reaper himself. And Madame Red, Ciel's deceased aunt, had attracted the attention of a Grim Reaper during her early days as Jack the Ripper. So sliding into that niche would give me a bit of breathing room.
It was plausible that magic users did exist in this world, but that they stayed secluded and out of touch with most other supernatural forces. Being outed as native magic user was safer than being identified as an alien.
It could work. And it would give me plausible reason to know the significance of a Name. A smokescreen with a technical truth to hide reality.
Of course, that route was not without risk. Witch burnings may have been more than a century old at this point, but the memory was still there. And people had a few set ways of reacting when confronted with power they didn't have. They wanted it, and did anything to get it. Or they feared it, and did all they could to eliminate it.
In terms of potential power, there was no question, the average Fioran wizard was going to be many times more powerful than the average practitioner in Black Butler. No formal education and the constant need to hide from an Inquisition would keep them from getting arrogant or especially powerful. So the important part here would be making it believable that Gwen was all that there was and her abilities fell within a narrow scope.
Sitting there, my body motionless, but my mind active, I composed a story where Guinevere Smithson was a spy rather than an assassin. Sebastian had frustrated so many people, with his capability, durability and inhuman moments. Plenty of their enemies would very much want to know what he is, and what his weaknesses are. Even without my editing, Gwen had done enough information work like it before that it was plausible enough.
Does she have a client who wants the information? Maybe she's had offers but nothing that she's taken up. Having more cards to hold is good in her line of work.
Knowing the true threat and identity of Sebastian Michailis would be a huge boon to anyone wanting to run a criminal business inside England in this era and this world. So she was here searching for that with her hedgewitch's powers backing her. It would explain her penchant for secrets. The typical imagery of a Witch involved a broom, so she had redirected her natural powers into something more innocuous and proper for a lady to carry. Not a wand, but a pen.
I had worked through a reasonable enough character profile. I just needed a moment or two alone to write out what I needed. Once again, I was absurdly grateful that the gloves I wore were long and covered my forearms and hands entirely. It gave me plenty of hidden canvas to work with. If I condensed the whole story into shorthand, then there should be enough room for it under my gloves. I would just need to use ink somehow to throw Sebastian off so he didn't think to look.
The moment the Viscount let me out of his sight to go arrange something in the bedroom of the suite aboard the luxury ocean liner, I acted.
Morgana pushed magic at the spells I had drawn earlier on my arm, which in turn purged the sleeping toxin from my system and roused me. My head rang vaguely as my senses shifted from the general story viewer perspective to my actual one.
That's trippy. How long?
7 minutes before he returns.
I pulled out the ink and pen, yanked my glove down again and started to write what I would need. The already dry ink on my arm, now inert that the spell was spent, reformed and joined with the still fresh ink as I scribbled. The whole story I had thought up. The thing that would alter the course of the remainder of the day.
35 seconds remaining.
Morgana's reminder came as I continued to hurriedly scrawl on my arm, gritting my teeth in frustration when I had to reload with ink in the precious time I had remaining.
The words warmed on my skin, then amber light traveled through them abruptly, drying the wet ink instantly and locking down my cover story. I quickly stowed everything again and resumed my said 'unconscious' position as my kidnapper re-entered the room.
Morgana linked our completed story for Gwen as a self taught practitioner of human magic, or a hedgewitch, into the Story that had been guiding me. Dictating certain actions. Once the graft was set in place, it was like opening a new network of pipes. Or flipping the switch to allow power into newly laid wires. The framework I presented was accepted into the narrative and had further details filled in that I had not consciously decided. Hadn't had the time for that. I read through it with a frown as I stowed my pen and ink bottle and feigned unconsciousness again as the door opened to admit my kidnapper. Ignoring him was easy with the abundance of character information I had to catch up on.
She uses what?
The story had auto-populated Gwen's fighting abilities circling around a knife and a fountain pen. The knife was used in a fairly straightforward manner, but at its most ludicrous, the pen acted as the handle of a bizarre whip with a lash made of ink that grew and shrank depending on her available resources and her wishes.
Of course. Using weird weaponry is part of the 'non-human/ superhuman standard package' in Black Butler. I'm just lucky it didn't decide a soup spoon was my weapon of choice.
Being awake it was now much harder to ignore the Viscount's obsessive blather. And the amount of weapons and means he had of killing himself and me was concerning. Poison, a gun, explosives. I mean, he was the equivalent of Wiley Coyote in the sense that nothing ever seemed to kill him, but this was still ridiculous.
Knife to a gunfight. And I'm definitely close enough that he couldn't get me first. If I weren't wearing a floor length ball gown, that is.
He had placed me in a wheelchair to avoid toting me around, and I sat there limply in as close to the same position as I had had previously. And fighting not to tense or shudder as he stroked my hair.
"My sweet song thrush, I've missed you so terribly these last months. It was heinously cruel of you to deny me the sight of your lovely visage for so long. But upon seeing you now, my heart knows nothing but forgiveness!"
I needed him to leave again. My temper was not going to last until Sebastian got here. He wasn't going to last. Was there something outside that he might have to take care of?
How many people are on the ship? He can't very well be managing it on his own.
One captain, two boiler room workers, three deckhands, two maids, a steward, a cook and a kitchen helper. Plus a quartet of chamber musicians for entertainment. He doesn't have to lift a finger.
Just perfect.
Once Sebastian showed up and the Reapers, the people would need to be kept out of the way.
The Viscount has ordered not to be disturbed for the night so no one will be on deck or near his suite.
...It's 3pm. He can't seriously be considering going to bed.
I thought incredulously.
He had made incredibly good time since snatching me from the Phantomhives. He had gotten me to the liner in under half an hour and we were already underway on the sea for the last 20 minutes. But he seriously wanted to retire for the night in mid-afternoon?
Morgana didn't affirm more, but I felt she was holding back schemes and plans of his that I did not need to know. So I trusted her.
Alright, that works for us since it means the crew will be in their quarters out of the way when the supernatural things show up. How long until Sebastian shows up?
15 minutes.
Either he was getting sloppy with cockiness or he was delaying until the most dramatic moment possible to rescue me.
It's the latter. Ciel already needled his pride when they realized someone abducted you and he's highly motivated. Now he's proving a point.
"The world shall be ours from this ship, built in your name and honor! It is even named for you, my darling: Song Thrush's Warble."
Please, please, please shut up.
The truly off-putting thing was...that in spite of the man having butchered and sold people and their body parts, potentially targeted children and gotten involved with every elicit activity available to this time period: The Viscount was a joke villain meant for filler and laughs. And not even a major player or antagonist in any sense of the word.
And the one who was most willing and capable of committing even worse atrocities was the titular character with an obsessive adoring fan base.
"Shall we go to the Caribbean, my love? You would shine so beautifully under a tropical moon."
I could hear a faint buzzing sound that was curiously out of place. It wasn't like anything I had ever heard before, but Morgana connected it.
It was a chainsaw being revved. Just passively, here and there.
The frik is Grell doing here? They're early!
She refers to herself as female.
Fine, she's still early!
The Story had Grell appearing after Sebastian. Unless this was a repercussion of my actions...
Gwen's Name is on the To Die list.
I thought that was a mistake. In the OVA, Will said it was a mistake on Grell's part!
Morgana led me to another piece of suddenly relevant, hidden lore. Since the Story followed Sebastian and Ciel you often only learned what was relevant to their part of the world. And their interactions with Grim Reapers had never delved into this side of things. It involved the Law of Death that the reapers were meant to uphold.
Luckily, this was something I was familiar with.
Does the Defiance clause still apply to this world?
Yes.
That took a weight off my shoulders at the prospect of dealing with the reapers. The strange veil that kept most mortals from noticing Grim Reapers at their work was at place so no one else could hear or see the blood thirsty redhead at the moment. My awareness of magic, the supernatural and the Law of Death especially was letting me get an inside scoop on the matter.
Or maybe I should just call her thirsty.
According to what I recalled, Grell wasn't supposed to take my soul until tomorrow. But her presence still complicated matters.
A hand stroked my hair. As I was preoccupied by the presence of the Reaper elsewhere on the vessel, I couldn't quite hold back a tiny twitch when the Viscount started to pet my hair, still disguised its modest brown color.
"Truly you are such a sinful little bird, enslaving my passions so that I cannot scarcely think of anything else." He chucked me under the chin. "Won't you open your eyes dearest? I have missed them so much."
Morgana told me I was still supposed to be weak and shaky from the after effects of the drug in my system. Esuna had thankfully washed those effects right out. I kept in line with his expectations and forced my eyes open slowly, and glared at him.
"I suppose I am fortunate then...that unlike other eyes you like, I've been allowed to keep mine."
Normally, my glare would make people balk. A combination of the pale color combined with a menacing, magical glow. But this clown? You would think I had made his year by saying this and meeting his gaze. He swooned with emotion, his eyes shone with vivid adoration behind his ornate mask. The same mask he had worn to the party Gwen had first encountered him at.
"Never have caustic words sounded so sweet as from your lips, my darling song thrush."
I wanted to deny his possession of me, but Morgana told me it was not a good idea. He had a gun, and explosives that were primed to light as soon as he exposed the fuses to air. Better to deflect his attention and wait for a better opening.
"Where am I?"
I had already heard his spiel about the boat we were on, but I needed to buy time for Sebastian to get here. And from the smallest hint of interest, the Viscount was more than willing to go into great detail the entertainments available to us.
4 minutes.
We were still ahead of schedule. The demon butler had not yet arrived to take control of the situation.
The Viscount was happy to listen to the sound of his own voice, gesturing grandly as he described the various amenities that he had commissioned aboard for our entertainment. Including a sauna/steam room, a ballroom for dancing, and any number of impressive things. But among all that was my personal nitpick at all of it: he didn't make mention of a library.
There's that switch to fill the room with smoke. And the passage up to the deck. How did he get so high up the mast with literal deadweight though?
That wouldn't be happening this time.
The Viscount had fallen silent again, looking at me expectantly. I gave a low unladylike snort.
"Are you waiting for me? Why start now? You've clearly never needed my consent before."
This was said with as much sarcasm as I could muster. And he literally pouted under the ornate mask.
"My sweet, is your mind still so muddled? All I have done is do as you bade me."
Please tell me that he's delusional and Gwen didn't actually ask for this.
He is.
The relief I felt at hearing this was unparalleled. My legs were strong enough that I could stand and run, but he was still squarely blocking my path.
"Perhaps it is. Maybe a drink will help it become clear again."
I would normally feel terrible about using someone's mental illness against them. If I didn't already know that this man was a meanie his society was ill equipped to stop by normal means. He bustled to a decanter and busied himself pouring two tumblers of an adult beverage I couldn't be bothered to pay attention to.
Technically speaking, Grim Reapers aren't supposed to do the killing themselves. Just a bit of desecration of the dead to harvest their Cinematic Record. Does that mean Grell is already on the ship and is waiting?
Yes. The record she is following states a lady will die in the company of Viscount Druitt tomorrow. She has been following the Viscount for the last hour.
Going above deck just got much less appealing then. Grell didn't have the best track record of staying on task when death got involved and however epic of a death it would be, I had no desire to die to a chainsaw today.
Death Scythe.
Same thing.
Not really. Grell was only recently released from probation after the Jack the Ripper incident, she wouldn't do anything to get her Death Scythe taken away again.
I pushed some magic into my limbs to warm them up for motion, grabbed the hem of my skirt and bolted while his back was turned. The doors lock sprang open at my hissed command and I was gunning for the deck as fast as I could.
A way to the deck that doesn't involve this long, empty corridor absent of all cover! There's a madman with a gun chasing me!
Morgana found a non-direct route and led me to the ballroom, which was just adjacent to the sitting room where I had been, and its large bay windows which could admit both light and fresh sea air to the room. I shut the door behind me as quietly as I could to try and throw him off on where I might have gone when he started to look for me. The decor and set up, however tasteful, was ignored. Morgana had a timer going off in less than 3 minutes before the Viscount figured out I hadn't raced for the deck and started to eliminate his options.
Come on, come on, Rachel, Gwen, give me something useful here.
But apparently exiting via a window on a large moving sea craft was too crazy for those ladies. This sort of harebrained scheme was uniquely a Fae thing. So the most help I got from the previous owner of the dress and the person loaning me their place in the story of the day was experience in moving in a full length party dress.
The windows were large but not the large single pane glass that would become the norm for bay windows. They had latches that let them lower halfway. Creating an opening on the upper half rather than the lower, likely to lessen the impact of sea spray on the interior.
The contortions needed to squeeze through that space in my miniscule time frame were better left unsaid. But I did manage, after removing the bustle and throwing it to the sea, to get myself through the window, and clinging to the side of the ship, standing on the narrow maintenance ledge and leaning into the ship's side to keep myself there.
Easy does it.
If I inched my way along the ledge to where the upper deck met the lower main deck, it would be feasible to slip over the railing and onto solid footing again. And before that, get hold
"My Song Thrush!"
The Viscounts devastated cry made me bite back a chuckle.
He thinks you threw yourself out the window.
Idiot.
There hadn't been a significant splash, not like a body hitting the water. There was one as the ship crested a large wave and I had to lean back and pray, stretching for some kind of handhold to secure my position on the ledge. And somehow in this scramble, I felt one of my shoes get loose.
"May I offer you a hand up, miss?"
My head snapped up in a flash.
There was a smiling demon butler standing on the main deck, gloved hand extended as he leaned over the railing, perfectly sure of his footing. Looking like every handsome rescuer that a Victorian era young lady would sigh over. I made sure to stare at him for a long minute, allowing him to see the following thoughts on my face without making it seem like I was projecting deliberately.
How is he here?
Why is he not surprised?
Screw it, I'm inches away from an early seamans funeral.
I reached up and got my one hand into his. I was promptly hauled up from my precarious perch, somehow without straining my arm, and settled princess style in her arms. I lost my loose shoe completely.
"There we go, that's much better."
Sebastian said with a smile that wasn't quite his usual one. He was genuinely satisfied. He had fulfilled his master's orders. Though he was holding me a little closer than was strictly warranted. Morgana pounced on the opening our proximity gave us. And she got a good amount out of him, but ran into a blockade.
98% of his Name acquired.
Seriously?
The rest is still Secret.
Meaning I wouldn't get it until he well and truly dropped his guard. Likely before he thought he was getting some sort of prize. It would have to be timed carefully.
"I have decided I do not want to know how you got here when you did."
I informed him seriously, shifting slightly in anticipation of him putting me down.
"You are not curious?"
I gave him a sidelong look and didn't meet his eyes and let him see I was avoiding it.
"Not even a little."
He was prevented from replying, doubtless to tease me more, by an angry voice shouting over the sound of the waves.
"Release my little bird at once you scoundrel!"
The gunshot ricocheted with a clang as soon as the shot sounded. Sebastian deflected the bullet with a freaking dinner spoon he produced from out of nowhere. He didn't seem to be bothered or strained by needing to shift me from two hands to one to accomplish this.
"You abducted a young lady against her will. And retrieving my lord's guest makes me a scoundrel?"
He asked with an arch little smirk. The Viscount seethed, cocking the gun once again.
"Fate shall not keep us apart again!"
I couldn't resist raising my eyebrows and pointing at the demon that held me.
"Fate isn't. His name is Sebastian."
He is very much amused.
Entertaining the demon was my priority right now. I had to get him cocky enough to keep toying with me. This was apparently the wrong answer for the Viscount as things got very noisy after that.
-vVv-
The strange song and dance number that followed my comment included another gun, a series of loaded crossbows, a small cannon and several sticks of dynamite. I was perfectly safe and unharmed the entire time, under the fearsome demons protection. But it was more than a little exasperating to be tossed around by the man as he kept his poise while foiling the traps.
"How did this ship pass inspection!?"
I hissed to myself, staring at the large compartments where the mounts and weapons had been stored. Sebastian guided me into a long series of steps that felt almost like a dance, his hands in places where no proper Victorian man would ever touch on anyone other than his wife as he spun me out of harm's way.
"You are quite unbothered for someone who is being shot at."
"I am so disassociated right now, I may as well be on Mars."
The barb and retort was reflexive and automatic, and I got the distinct impression that Sebastian was once again enjoying himself. He had been only once before. When he was helping me change by using polite social custom, and Gwen's lower status in society to unnerve me. But now his grin seemed genuine. Sharp and bloodthirsty, but downright amused. And anticipatory.
For when I break?
For when you are vulnerable later as you just told him you would be.
The demon and I ended up near the bow of the ship, my skirt flaring dramatically as our dance ended. Sebastian gracefully went to one knee to complete the image. The Viscount fell to his knees and pounced the deck with his fists.
Self destruct switch is nearby that he priming himself to reach for.
Seriously, who let this ship out of the shipyard? Is the same company that inspects Dr Doofenshmirtz's stuff for him?
"My Song Thrush, though another has stolen you from my arms, I vow we shall at long last be wed in heaven!"
And his hand moved to the deck board that would split the ship in half. My hand went for my pen, because I would not stand for that to go down- This was the point where Grell came in from stage Left, chainsaw roaring with her enthusiasm.
"I'm all aflutter at the notion of a deadly love story."
The Death Scythe carved through the deck before the Viscount could trigger the switch and Grell planted herself between it and him, her weapon's revs dying down as she shook a chastising finger at the man.
"But she's not due to die until tomorrow, you see. So I can't let that pass."
Sebastian's good humor vanished with a delicate shiver of disgust and he rose, shifting to keep a possessive hand at my waist. And to be ready should Grell cause more trouble.
And Gwen, not Fae, Gwen, recognized what Grell must be. Even before I had rewritten her Story to include some knowledge of magic. My current alter ego somehow knew what a Grim Reaper looked like and some of their terminology.
Gwen girl, I would love to sit down for a while and just pick your brain.
I was so surprised that very Fae like question popped out.
"If he isn't on your list, is there some way to get him added or expedited?"
I asked, drawing the reaper's attention to me as I pointed at the man behind her.
"Oh he's got what we call 'an open invitation'. Plenty of very furious people want this specimen dea-"
Grell's voice trailed off as she looked back at me and fully processed what was before her. Her face turned as red as her hair and her phosphorescent green eyes narrowed as her glasses skewed comedically. Her words came out from between gritted teeth.
"Why, don't you look...cozy, snuggled up to my Bassy."
I ignored Sebastian's obvious cringe at the pet name and Grell's mounting anger. But I could not ignore his subtly pulling me closer so we were almost snuggling and that he could support me without my needing to put my bare foot down. I resisted that with a sidelong glare that he answered with a benign smile. I held up a forestalling hand for the jealous Reaper.
"First: I want to properly wear this dress at least once, and trying to get out of his grasp would result in tearing. Second, blood stains terribly on pale colors and there was a lot of prospective violence going on around me. So yes, I allowed the proximity. Third, I lost my shoe."
"Indeed, I won't be but a moment, my lady."
Sebastian brought me back towards a still sturdy railing, the deck furniture was pretty well trash after all the fun, and somehow managed to retrieve my missing shoe in the blink of an eye. Which was also somehow undamaged and not even wet though I was sure it fell into the ocean. He knelt before me and slipped it onto my foot with delicate care. He was rubbing the attention he was giving me in Grell's face.
But she was stopped in her tracks pondering my reply. She gave me a once over, assessing everything about me. The hair, the dress, the accessories even the makeup which was still somehow looking good.
Sebastian could make a killing in a beauty college, I swear.
The words came out slowly, like she was loath to admit them.
"We'll you're not me, and not nearly wearing enough red...but you'll do. Now you've got your stupid slipper back, step away from him you brazen hussy!"
Because Grell was a woman, and a woman looking her best 100% mattered to her. Even if it was someone else. And because the Day was Crack, that was what she was thinking about instead of reaping me.
She means you look amazing.
I blew Grell a kiss over Sebastian's back.
"He's still got my leg and it would be rude to kick someone who saved my life. Thank you for the compliment."
Her shocked face was captured in my memory for eternity. Then it dropped into a deep, annoyed scowl. Sebastian, looking as though he had been having the time of his life, rose and offered me his hand
"Shall we head back, miss? We wouldn't want to miss the party."
"One moment please."
The Viscount had largely been nursing his ruined plans, forgotten on the deck where Grell had stopped him from blowing us all up.
Remember, don't kill him. The Story needs him for later events.
I acknowledged Morgana's warning. I just wanted to dump him into the sea after making sure my spell settled on him. I nudged him with my toe, transferring my written backstory onto his memory. With any luck, I could tie up loose ends well enough to make it so Gwen never needed to see, hear or even think about this man again.
Transfer complete.
I contemplated the side of the ship then.
"Rats can swim, right?"
This was posed as a general question for both supernatural parties watching me. But there was a dark blur beside me as Sebastian picked the Viscount up by his collar.
"I could hardly allow a guest of my master to handle such garbage."
He said with far too much glee and he pitched the wailing man over the side. His final, deluded, sincere words were a cut off confession of love I was glad not to suffer through again. Morgana was tracking Grell's internal debate of whether or not it was worth unaliving me early for my current proximity with the object of her obsession. Her conclusion was that since I knew about Reapers, that made me a liability to their work. And so I was ready to move when she made her choice.
The chainsaw missed my body as I stepped aside just in the nick of time, but it did snag the skirt of my dress. It was set to physical mode, not the mode that could access Cinematic Records. I could taste the flare of vindictive pleasure Sebastian felt at now having an excuse to fight, and kill, Grell. A single knife ricocheted off the deck to jam the chain of the Death Scythe, which stammered to a halt, groaning and jerking.
"I'll carve you into proper beauty for the nerve if standing beside my love!"
She's still too close. And she's probably got her scissors on her too.
I would have to play my best camouflage rather than relying on Sebastian. Better to use it now and let him think he had waited me out than let him pry it out of me latet.
My borrowed pen was in my hand in a flash, the long lash of dark ink forming and curling deftly around me to slice across Grell's chest. It moved without a sound but landed with tremendous impact, sending her flying back towards the railing, dropping her weapon. And now I had all of Sebastian's attention again and he looked thrilled.
"My my, a true Practitioner. Here I thought your kind was extinct. How thrilling to be proven wrong."
"We just got smarter about dealing with your kind."
I threw back at the smirking demon, the pen spinning in my hand to strike again.
Will is incoming in 10...9...
I dismissed my weapon, shaking the ink off onto the deck. I was toeing the line of the rules I was following. Grell was dangerous because she was a homicidal, unlawful, emotion fueled maniac. Will was dangerous because he was precise and calculating. I could outthink Grell because while she was relentless in pursuing Sebastian, or swooning over most of the handsome men around her. Will did not have something that could be used to divert him so easily. And he would defend his junior, not because he liked her, but rather because it was his job to do so.
Sebastian paused seeing my backing down, and mirrored me, eyes sharp and interested. He did shift slightly to make the path to me seem open, just to see what would happen. Morgana was calculating his plan to trip the flamboyant reaper's charge and snatch me out of harm's way at the last instant. But that was not necessary. The senior Grim Reaper I had detected arrived just as Grell managed to get to her feet, revving her Death Scythe with gleeful murder in her eyes. She took one aborted step forward before she took a jab of his Scythe, shaped like extending pruning shears, straight to the forehead and collapsed to the deck again with a cry of pain and a spurt of red.
I didn't wince, but there was a lot of blood, just a shade off to match her hair perfectly.
"I am beginning to believe you are incapable of going somewhere without making a mess."
Will stated coldly, eyeing Grell as he would a particularly repulsive insect. She giggled, rolling to starfish on the deck, glasses still secured by her lanyard as she stared right at the demon.
"My Bassy does always make a mess of my-"
There was a screech of something akin to nails on a chalkboard. In reality, the tines of a fork on a metal ship wall cut Grell's adoring words off just at the right moment. The demon's shadow flickered under his feet, his gaze scornful and dismissive.
He has something much more interesting he would rather spend time and attention on.
Let me guess...
You.
Yay.
I turned my attention away from the demon whose focus had remained on me even now, cataloging what else was going on around me. Will was chastising Grell. Grell was enjoying the tirade and the demonic eye candy standing close at hand...yeah, none of that needed my attention right now.
"Wait a second, I am working! See!"
I needed to think about how to spin what Sebastian thought he knew.
The only benefit to this situation was I could now chance using a few more tricks since I was 'outed' as a Practitioner. He would be trying to suss out what field of magic I practiced. Since the Story of this world had thus far never revealed humans using magic without blood sacrifice or demonic intervention, I had a big open playing field of where I could indirect his attention. I spun the pen in my hands, writing out a short basic phrase for Mending on the skirt over my hip.
The letters didn't glow their usual color, writing in black ink on the pale fabric. It blanched quickly as it ran down the sliced fabric, stitching the gaping hole back together and leaving it as whole as before and utterly unmarked. I stuck the pen behind my ears and dusted my hands together, focusing another minor spell to render the material I wore clean once again. Not at all as though I'd been abducted, climbed out a window, doused in sea spray, Reaper blood, my own ink and nearly sliced in half.
"Miss, if you could tell me your name?"
Will asked, rather politely as was his default behavior. This was something I had to pay attention to and so I straightened, folding my hands demurely in front of me.
"Might I know who asks first?"
Proper caution was expected, and Will's card was offered to me without a beat of hesitation or his usual exasperation. I took it carefully, scanning it, letting Gwen's eyes fall to the hidden marks and cues. All the reasons why she knew this to be a calling card of a servant of Death. I met the dark haired reaper's gaze and nodded once, pointedly not looking at Sebastian, but waiting for something else.
Will obliged with a snap of his fingers, stilling the air between us.
Silencing spell so Sebastian can't hear the Name spoken.
I couldn't tell if that action, and this knowledge, was prompted by the Story or my addition to it.
Will was a Senior Reaper. And likely far more trusted with the knowledge of Names that Grell was. And it had been a prominent feature in Black Butler that taking a name on yourself was important. Almost as much as relieving it from someone else. I carefully lifted my hand to obscure my mouth and told him Gwen's real Name. The one she hadn't been using for fear of being found.
Will listened, but did not repeat what I had said. He consulted his book again, turning a few pages, and his stern countenance grew even more frosty and irate. Grell was on her feet now, miraculously having healed from her latest injury, and trying to sidle up to a blatantly repulsed Sebastian. The pruning shears jabbed out and took Grell in the face again, sending a fresh splatter of her favorite color across the deck.
"What was that for!?"
She barked, brows lowered in genuine displeasure. She liked being hurt and humiliated, but she didn't appreciate it when she couldn't psyche herself up to enjoy it. Will didn't bat an eye, his scowl fierce, but not overdone.
"Punishment for incompetence. This soul is not scheduled for death."
Lie.
"But that can't be it! It says so right here! I triple checked it with dispatch!"
She pulled out a book of her own, riffling through to a particular spot and holding it out to be checked. Will offered his own book for comparison.
"Look closely at the spelling. The two names are one letter off."
He tapped one spot and Grell did a double take at it.
"Oh...Silly me!"
She did look suitably chagrined at that. Or, somewhat. She still looked like she'd misplaced her socks, or had the time of some appointment slip her mind. Not that she had, you know, been trying to murder someone.
How is it a lie?
The Reapers try to keep it very, very confidential. But as you know, humans can and often have rewritten their own fate and evaded many of their initial appointed times of Death. It is called the Defiance Clause. It does not require magic, or any supernatural power. It is simply something they can inherently do. Break rules and somehow not break the world in the process.
It was a strange quirk that followed most sentient beings, but I was very glad that it held true here as well as Earthland and various other worlds. Sebastian gleefully needled Will as a farewell as the senior Reaper corralled the still remaining part of Jack the Ripper into rowing for shore. The deck was almost peaceful now...
Not for long. The Viscount found an emergency life vest and the crew will be spotting him soon.
Yeah, I wanted to be long gone before then.
"Shall we head back now, my lady?"
I placed my gloved hand onto Sebastians once again. This time, long elegant fingers curled around mine in a possessive gesture that told me the ending phase of our game had just begun.
-vVv-
The OVA had the guest going and making an attempt on Ciel's life just before the party. But I remained where I was in the guest room allotted to me, resting and thinking my way through the final stages of my plan to get out of the Phantomhive Manor in one piece with all fragments of my soul still in my possession. Even as I rested here, Sebastian was likely cluing Ciel in that I was not a normal human. I knew about Supernatural. I knew about demons and reapers and very likely more than had not yet been discussed or discovered.
The return had been marked with brief visits from all the guests I had met so far, and a far longer one from Paula and Lizzy. But I still had one final piece to grab before I could initiate the last play of the game.
98% of Sebastian's true Name on file.
The name Sebastian Michaelis was the basis of his contract with Ciel. The agreement between the two of them, binding and powerful by the fact that Ciel had placed the symbol of his contract on his eye. The more openly it was or could be displayed, the more power a demon could access in their alternate identity. But what I mostly held was the summary of the demon's entire life. All of his power, not just the parts held under contract. And not even Ciel's contract could supersede that.
I just had to get the last few pieces of it. He would be on guard if he was around another demon, but I was still just a human in his estimate. Albeit, a human he knew had some talent for magic. But the worst of the damage was already done and even if he locked down every remaining scrap, there would be an opportunity for me to finish laying the groundwork to escape this place without a fight.
I rose from where I had been resting, taking up the pen and ink bottle once again now that I had been left in peace. I had a few more details to write out on my arms under my gloves before the finale hit in less than an hour. Lizzy was plotting something birthday related, I think Gwen's current cover story had her birthday falling on today to appeal to Lizzy's desire to spread cheer and a celebratory mood.
Once I left the manor, I had one other stop to hit, to complete my cover story and trade some information. And then it would be time for Gwen to disappear from the public and private eye.
Of course. I had to manage to leave first.
-vVv-
Contrary to my concerns, I was not summoned to see Ciel before the party. So I could do the rest of my preparations without interruption. But Meyrin did come and find me.
"You've a phone call, miss."
She said, ducking her head shyly and beaming over her glasses. The odd dichotomy of her genuine kindness and the ruthless assassin was a strange story but an appealing one. I liked her.
"Thank you. Meyrin, was it?"
"Yes miss. Right this way."
She led me to the phone though I already knew where it was. Apparently someone had put it back on its cradle and a call had finally connected.
Meyrin did linger to try and listen as I would have expected. So I picked up the phone with that in mind.
"You missed your check in. What went wrong?"
"It is not any of your concern, but a former associate who struggled with the concept of 'no'."
My reply was measured. Calm and not showing fear or aggression. I wanted to tell the man to shove off. My new narrative was that the Ferro family was seeking to hire Gwen but had not managed to get her contract. She wanted to get this information and sell it on her terms. Without the threat of failing a contract hanging over her to get it done on a time limit.
But at the moment, the fact that she had confirmation of Sebastian's true nature meant the truth was not something she could sell to any mortal broker. The Undertaker was her next viable goal, either to trade the knowledge should it be unknown, or secure a bit more insurance against demonic reprisal.
The ex-reaper was the liaison between the supernatural and the real. He would selectively edit information brought to him so that the two worlds stayed distinct from each other. Or that was the reputation he held. Given what I knew of his other hobbies, thanks to Morgana, I wondered...
"We've decided to triple our last offer."
Meaning three times the already absurd amount of money they were offering to pay for the truth of what Sebastian was and what it would take to buy his loyalty from Ciel. Money that they had no ability to pay back.
"It seems that 'no' is a subject you struggle with as well."
Meyrin gasped behind her hands at the 'juicy gossip' she was picking up.
The man over the phone was getting more and more angry.
"You don't want to make an enemy of the Ferro Family, Black Cat."
It wasn't a warning. It wasn't even a threat or a promise. Their last clash with the Phantomhives, or with Sebastian more specifically, had decimated their numbers and morale. Having a man riddled with bullets get up, spit out the lead and throw it back at them would mess with anyone's head.
"I've made my position clear. I would appreciate it if you did not approach me again. Good evening."
I hung up the phone, turning back to the doorway.
"How long until the party begins, Meyrin?"
The sniper-maid curtsied happily.
"About half an hour, milady." She looked up. Her hazel eyes gleaming behind the bottle thick glasses. "I am sorry if your caller was someone you didn't want to speak to. He seemed very insistent."
"It's no issue. He's not one to give up easily. He'll get used to being disappointed."
I had only taken the call to test my work in retconning the Story. The Guest in the OVA had borne the title of Mad Dog of Venetia, which had first been revealed in a phone call to her employers. But here, with the new story I had written for her, that had changed. 'Black Cat' was actually meant to be 'Black Footed Cat'. The diminutive wild cat that was the most successful hunter in the natural world. It had exceptionally keen senses, and was so small and stealthy that a lot about it was still unknown.
It said good things that the Ferro Family had used Gwen's new alias. I intended to let her disappear much like that elusive creature. She might fall to some other enemy after this Story ran its course. But the Phantomhives wouldn't have any further say over her fate.
-vVv-
"Miss Smithson, might I have a word?"
I slid my glove back into place to conceal the writing on my arms and went back to writing on the small notebook that I had found in Gwen's belongings.
"Come in."
Sebastian filled the threshold with his deceptively human guise and stepped inside. His eyes traced over what I was doing and a gleam of appreciation filled his eyes.
"Ah, the pen truly is mightier than the sword when in your hands."
I rose, subtly stepping before the book to take up his full attention.
"Can I help you, Mr Sebastian?"
"I believe we have experienced enough of each other to dispense with that formality, Miss Smithson. Please do call me Sebastian."
He was assuming we would become much more familiar over the next little while.
"With all due respect, Mr Sebastian. The last four hours haven't even made my top 20 of bizarre situations that I have ever been in."
Yes, the choice of name was deliberate. He seemed amused at the small tidbit of defiance. And he was even more curious now.
"You must have many fascinating stories to tell."
"Far too many for this one evening."
The butler gave a half bow.
"My lord wishes to impose on you for a brief meeting before you retire. He thought it best to inform you before the evening got too long."
Sebastian had told Ciel and Ciel was making his move then. Too bad for them I intended on disappearing before then.
"Thank you for conveying his message. We shall see how the evening progresses."
"Indeed we shall. We were initially under the impression that you were an assassin sent by the Ferro Famiglia. It is most novel to be surprised by your true nature."
Oh, he wanted a candid discussion? It was about time to proceed down to the evening's entertainment. So I could give him that. It would complete my set up to get the rest of his Name.
"Killing is not in my nature, nor my usual bag of tricks."
I smoothed my dress down, checking my gloves and the arrangement of my hair. Small acceptable fidgets that would not be proper to perform outside of this room.
"And what, pray tell, is your usual?"
I smiled faintly, clasping my hands over my fan in front of me as I made my way to the door.
"That answer depends on who you are praying to."
He offered me his arm, a gesture that was not strictly necessary, and a smile that showed genuine, smug delight. I was not so naive as to think of this as affection, or the beginnings of it. I was a novelty. And to an immortal being, novelty was its own kind of priceless. When I ceased to be interesting, or relative to his contract, he would discard me without hesitation.
I took his arm and walked down to the ballroom. He didn't speak throughout that walk, but his good humor was evident to my senses.
And when we walked through the doors into the ballroom, people burst into applause and cheers. All saying or singing birthday congratulations. Front and center was a delighted Lizzy, beaming with joy at having pulled a party together.
"Happy Birthday my dear! Oh don't you look so lovely!" She scampered forward, Sebastian fading gracefully out of her way as she seized my hands. "You mentioned it was your birthday and I wanted to make sure you took the time to celebrate!"
"Lizzy this is too much..."
The token resistance was only polite in this society.
"Don't be so modest, dear. You've been a delight to have as a friend and it is only right that such a wonderful person be given a wonderful surprise!"
Most of the current guests were the people I had met throughout the day. Soma and Agni gave me their congratulations. Ran Mao and Lau...probably did the same? I wasn't sure what the latter's contortions actually met and Lau's tone made me skeptical of it being sincere. The well wishes from Bard, Finny, Meyrin and Tanaka were quite sweet actually.
"Many happy returns, Miss Smithson."
Ciel spoke with a small smile that didn't look too feigned and bitter. I ducked my head to the younger boy.
"Thank you my lord. For allowing this imposition before your ball."
He gave a single, mirthless chuckle, running his thumb over the face of his family ring.
"Once Elizabeth gets an idea in her head, there is no dissuading her."
"Not easily or without upsetting her, I'm sure. But you indulging her desire did give me a remarkable experience. That is something to be thanked, no matter what."
The single visible blue eye looked me over. A gaze that was shrewd and naive. Intelligent, but inexperienced. Sebastian's presence and the ease with which he allowed him to perform his duties was keeping him from growing and brought on a strange set of contradictions.
"Your evening is far from over, Miss Smithson. I look forward to speaking with you later. I feel it shall be an enlightening discussion."
I merely smiled and curtsied in answer. I didn't want to tip my hand just yet. Ciel summoned his butler with a glance and he seemed to materialize from beside me, hand uplifted.
"May I have this dance, my lady?"
The title he called me by should have been a faux pax, but Sebastian was laying it on thick to try and get a favorable talk later. I placed my hand on his, feeling the runes I had scribed on my arms burn.
"We have already been dancing around each other all day, Mr Michaelis. This is but the next movement of the same song."
-vVv-
As with everything else about him, Sebastian was naturally an impeccable dancer. Even without my borrowing knowledge from the gown I was wearing, he would have been skilled enough to make our dance look effortless. So I let myself enjoy it. And pretended that I trusted the demon who was leading me across the floor in time to the music.
Sebastian wasn't just performing a basic set of steps. He was showing off with things only an accomplished dancer could have pulled off. She hadn't been useful before, but now was the moment when Rachel Phantomhive's story, embedded into the dress I wore, came to the surface. It let me match him step for step in a way that could only come from both innate grace and hours of hard work to master each move.
The irony was, we had been engaged in a far more complex dance from the moment I exited the carriage this morning. It was only now that people could perceive our exchange.
"Meyrin will be quite pleased to have a lady such as yourself joining the household. Perhaps you can curtail her clumsiness."
I smiled lightly.
"Don't count your souls before they are reaped, Mr Michaelis."
Burgundy eyes flashed purple for a split second.
"You are quite bold to think you can evade the Phantomhive family's employment offer."
I let my eyes gleam with power, flashing their usual etherion blue right back at him in a fit of pettiness. Just to show that he didn't have the monopoly on menacing eye shine, so there. The slight flexing of his hand on my back was the only response he gave. Morgana tracked that smile smile became the tiniest bit more real.
Possessive. Pleased that the new toy is interesting.
"And you are one audacious devil if you think I will capitulate to your plans so easily."
Another turn, perfectly in time to the music. Ciel was dancing with Lizzy. Dozens of other guests were likewise mungling and enjoying themselves, but a touch of glamor encouraged their eyes away from myself and my dance partner. A glamor that did not come from me. Sebastian used is innate magic rarely in the show, to the point where it could be thought he didn't have any ability.
"As my lord's most loyal and capable servant, it falls to me to organize the household in accordance with his wishes, Lady Guinevere. And he wishes for you to be his governess."
There was a flicker of displeasure at that last word there. Something about that term of position was important. I focused on it, fishing for more information as we continued to dance.
"A governess is hired to teach children. Something the young lord has not truly been for some time."
"My master is most determined to make fullest use of his pawns. And your knowledge if you were shackled to regular household labors, would be criminally wasted." His eyes dropped, scanning my entire figure. "I will admit, I am impressed you've managed to hide the seal of your contract so effectively."
He thinks I've contracted a demon.
-vVv-
"Oh? And have you let some dark creature of the underworld reserve your soul for dinner?"
I took a slow, silent sip of tea, not bothering to hide my smile.
"Nope. He got it wrong."
The smile I got in answer pulled a little too wide with teeth a little too sharp to be human.
"How splendid."
-vVv-
Meaning in Sebastian's mind, he had been in the same room with me with my seal open to the air when he helped me change and he didn't catch on then. Contract seals were how demons marked their intended meals. It was a claim that had to be displayed proportionate to how much of the soul they would be getting, and how much effort it would cost them. So he was left puzzling over how he had missed something that must have been obvious.
I chose not to acknowledge that part of what he had sai]d. It wouldn't help me figure him out, just give me a better smoke screen. I had to find what his angle was here.
A governess could go out with her charge in public and hold a different role than that of a maid or nanny. And as I was, presumably, of noble standing, simply assigning me the role of stewardess would be encroaching on Sebastian's formal duties, which he was curiously protective of.
I met his gaze, searching for some trace and flicker. A cue to give me a direction to search in. Morgana tracked his mirth growing as he clearly saw what I was doing.
OK. Let's change trains of thought. Sebastian is a demon. That makes him a predator, albeit a rule bound one. He's got what he wants and is just playing the long game according to the rules he has to live by.
He had embraced the role of a butler. It was strongly implied that demons were normally violent and uncontrolled, so being able to adopt rules when it went against his nature was a testament to his experience and strength. His appearance had likely been influenced by the contract to resemble Vincent Phantomhive. Ciel had been a hurt, angry child at the time. Driven over the edge of despair. Seeking for some, any comfort in that dark pit he was in. And now, he stood poised, ever at his contract holder's side. They were almost a single unit, they were together so often. There was no one more relied on than Sebastian in this household. He had literally rebuilt the whole structure from the cellar to the gables.
And that's when it clicked for me.
That's it. 'No one more relied on.'
99% of his Name acquired.
I let a light smile touch my lips then. A satisfied one. I had my way in. I finally answered him as if I were entertaining the thought of joining the Phantomhive household staff.
"You would have your work cut out for you then, no longer being the sole source of information for him to turn to."
His steps didn't falter and neither did his mirth. It just gained a more blood thirsty edge. He had known I might stumble on this and anticipated having a more lethal, see also useful, playmate.
"Please, Guinevere. My role in this dance is not so easily replaced, even by a mortal magus. You see, I am simply one hell of a butler."
100% of his Name acquired.
It popped into my head. The whole, pure truth of the matter and his True Name along with it. Yet I didn't speak it, and just kept it in reserve. The seven deadly sins were so described for a reason. I did not pretend to know how this universe's underworld was organized but it would make sense if the more involved and complex these moral failings were within a human soul, the more vivid and varied the flavors would be to a demon.
The last missing piece for me was hearing Sebastian's signature line and knowing what it said about him.
His pride. That was his driving force. The luster that made this being the dark charmer that he was. It was hard to see on the face of it because he simply was so capable, inhumanly so, but pride colored everything he did from the food he prepared to how he was leading me in this dance even now. It resonated throughout his Name, highlighting every syllable and making it ring true to his innermost self.
And as with most of the most satisfying cases...pride would come before the fall.
-vVv-
"Aaah, how magnificent that lovely brain of yours is! I would like the chance to poke through it once you are through with using it."
"I can make no promises. I'm rather partial to the idea of a viking style funeral, so there probably won't be much left of me after that. Now, let's get back to the demon."
-vVv-
I stopped in the middle of the dance floor, and Sebastian did so as well. The others continued their step around us without seeming to notice the extra pocket of space they gave us. I gave Sebastian a polite smile.
"Please convey my deepest apologies and gratitude to your Master. Phantomhive hospitality is truly unparalleled and lives up well to its reputation. But I shall be withdrawing tonight as I intended. And you shall not be following to retrieve me."
The demon cocked his head, raven hair falling over his human mask almost like it was natural. The amused smirk of a man who knew he had already won on his face.
"Shall I not, my lady? My master's orders are absolute."
"They are. Unless I say this..."
I spoke his Name, all of it, right there on the dance floor. Not whispering, not concealing my mouth. His glamor shattered under the invocation and so did his composure. Naked shock radiated from him as he stared at me. No longer looking human though nothing about his face had changed. The immortal creature before me was too surprised to hold onto his mask.
I felt the bonds that connected him and Ciel as if they were fragile silken threads in my hands. His Name ran deeper in him than the contract he held. The laws that allowed him to exist on the mortal plane in the first place were connected with what I had just uttered. I could banish him to the hells with this Name and force his contract to sunder by preventing him from heeding Ciel's call. He would lose his contract and his meal and leave Ciel open for another demon to snatch. And with as hot a commodity as he seemed to be, there had to be others lurking, and ready to do just that.
He now had a choice:
Pursue me under his masters current orders, and lose his contract altogether. Or let me walk away, keep his contract, fulfill the standing order to never leave Ciel's side, and fail to fulfill the latest command.
He had never been put in this position before and it had paralyzed him.
Gotcha.
I stepped back from the frozen male figure and dipped into a curtsey, as perfect and polite as if I were meeting royalty.
"Goodbye, Sebastian Michaelis. Be sure to tell your Master precisely why this evening transpired the way that it did. It would be good for him to learn in a harmless manner that you, one hell of a butler or not, are not infallible."
I then turned and walked out of the ballroom. Gwen had already provisioned for a carriage to be waiting to take her home. Whether she succeeded or failed, she had meant to be out of the Phantomhive Manor within the same day. I settled inside it with a soft exhale, remaining alert for additional trouble. Sebastian had other assets available who would listen to him after all, so if Finny, Bard or Meyrin took action to stop me, things could still get bloody.
He will not. He is still in shock, and he would not do so. We beat him. He would not think to rely on mortals on the face of that.
-vVv-
The Undertaker howled.
He chortled, cackled and guffawed with raucous laughter rolling on the floor. Bumping into a large lidded urn, the bottom of the coffin I was seated on and almost spilling his tea. (I managed to save it before he went down. Barely.)
"Oh the humanity! The sheer utter cheek, the ludicrous odds of a demon, that demon, being bested by a mortal, with the power of his own Name! Oh is it my birthday? It must be!"
I let him have his mirth, knowing he was enjoying the knowledge that Sebastian had been played. He had been amusingly utterly wrong. And I was letting my timer run down.
I slipped off of the coffin, placing my empty 'tea cup' on the tray.
"Now, in about 5 minutes, we shall have the rest of the punchline, Undertaker. And this one, you can call a gift that keeps on giving."
He was still giggling when he flopped on his back, a flash of a bright green eye peeking out from under his bangs.
"Do tell."
He practically begged.
I pulled him to his feet, brushing off the cookie crumbs and vanishing the stains of tea that he had spilled on himself.
"When faced with an impossible dilemma, the Phantomhives of the last few generations, have come to you. And the current Earl, and his shadow are no exceptions."
I smiled up at the still beaming Grim Reaper.
"You know everything now. That I'm an interloper from another world. That I am a wizard. How I figured Sebastian out. Why I got away. The reality of Guinevere Smithson and those like her. This story and the laughter accompanying it is not to purchase information. But to silence a vein of it that you now possess."
I beckoned him closer and he eagerly leaned in to let me whisper in his ear.
"I will avail myself of one of your unoccupied coffins. And you will greet the young Earl and his butler. They will be coming to you asking about Guinevere Smithson. Entirely unaware that I am lurking in your fine craftsmanship in this very shop, not even ten feet away."
I think the Undertaker was almost vibrating in delight as it dawned on him.
Two people in the world now knew the whole truth about what had happened at the Phantomhive Manor today. Myself and the Undertaker. A story this delicious would be an amusement of its own for weeks and weeks. Entirely dependent on his capacity to keep quiet. I had handed him months worth of laughter. Any laughter that Ciel and Sebastian managed to wring out of him in this meeting would be entirely overshadowed by the payment I had just given him.
You're home free, Gwen. He won't give this up for weeks and by then they'll have turned on to other sources.
Some part of me, deep within, felt the recently rechristened Black Cat of the information broker underworld thank me for this endeavor. For this new chance.
I would wait here patiently for Ciel and Sebastian's interview with Undertaker to end. He would laugh, loud, long and readily. Annoying both Ciel and Sebastian to no end when he cheerfully would tell them he had nothing on the woman they were looking for. He would talk in a few convoluted circles, practically telling them I was still here and they wouldn't get it. They would leave and I would go pay a visit to the Italians who had tried to strong arm Gwen's services while the duo fruitlessly searched for her alias in England. They might even try the Undertaker again, asking different questions.
And none of that 'payment' would buy them anything. When that was over, I would get out and find a discreet means of transporting Gwen out of England. Likely to America as they still on principle were obstinate against most anything British. And it would keep her out of trouble, or at least avoiding the potential world wars that could pop up in the next few decades on European soil.
All in all, not a bad time for a Cracked Day.
-vVv-
The retired Grim Reaper chortled as he bade farewell to the Earl Phantomhive. He went and checked the coffin his other living guest had stowed herself in.
It was empty.
He chuckled again, rubbing his hands together and feeling the faintest tendrils of mortal power in the air. Giving a hint on how she had made her escape.
"Oh my dear, you are far too amusing to allow this to be our only meeting. You may have succeeded in removing Guinevere Smithson from ever interacting with the Phantomhives again, but you have made yourself far too interesting for me to let this be our only encounter. And you've taught me that there is a way our world stores information beyond the Cinematic Record and that the means to alter it lie in your hands."
The Undertaker pushed his hair out of his eyes, mad eyes glinting with focus and zeal.
"I cannot allow this chance to pass me by. I believe we will see each other far sooner than you expect."
A/N
Yeah, there's gonna be more of this to come. I've got two tentative continuations planned for Black Butler shenanigans. Current plan is to return to posting Scribe of the Sidhe in two weeks.