6 A Crowded Bedroom

THREADFIN FLAPPED HIS arms, hissing and kicking, warding off hundreds of furry bodies and their hairless tails. Until, he realised he was alone in bed. No rats. No bites. He lay back, shutting his eyes in relief. Must’ve been a nightmare ... but wait, what was he doing in bed?

Something soft and wet brushed his brow. He uttered a yelp and shot upright with a stab of pain for his trouble. He almost reached for his magic, but a lurch in his stomach prevented him from touching it. Nope, something wasn’t right.

As usual.

He was in his bed chamber high in the Tower of Wept, which overlooked both palace and city. It was sparsely furnished, although there were dozens of wooden trunks littering the floor. Otherwise, there was just the cot he was currently in and a table smothered in books and cobwebs.

His ever-present and somewhat loyal mongrel stood beside the cot, a soiled bit of wet rag in his scabby digits.

‘Were you just wiping the floor with that thing?’ demanded the mage. ‘It stinks, Nip. I might be undead, granted, but I do have a few standards to keep. We’re not all dungeon dwellers and flesh eaters, you know.’

Nipper offered an offended series of chirps, which were as always, unintelligible, and likely insulting.

‘Yes, well, I suppose it is the thought that counts, isn’t it. How did I get back here? I don’t remember much after, um ...’ He struggled to recall what had happened—oh yes, a swarm of rats smothering him. Not a nightmare after all. Was a collective of rats called a swarm, or was it a pack? Did it matter? Aiyana would’ve known something like that.

‘It were Beez what hads you brought up here,’ said a voice, which near toppled him out of bed in fright. Tezcat materialised from the shadows as was her habit.

She has an amazing talent alright, for giving me a heart attack when I don’t even have a working heart to begin with. ‘I wish you would announce yourself first, Cat. There is a door to this place, I hope you know.’

‘What for?’ she demanded with a perplexed look on her face. ‘Doors is for stupid breathers. Anyways, Lyrin were all for havin’ you takin’ o’ the medicary, but Beez were right incessant.’

‘Huh? Oh, you mean insistent.’

‘What I said weren’t it? He said you wasn’t ill in them normal ways.’ She paused, her dull eyes looking shifty, as though there was something she wasn’t telling him. There usually was.

‘Cat, come on out with it. I’m not in the mood for games.’

‘Well, um, Beez gots mages all o’er this place, and downstairs too, and ups on the roof, and everywheres.’

That didn’t sound good. ‘What for exactly?’

‘Guardin’ an’ stuff, I suppose.’

‘Oh,’ he laughed with a wave of his hand, ‘you mean he’s got them protecting me? You know I didn’t think he had a soft side, but just goes to show you never really know somebody.’

‘There’s also a Sergeant Trotters downstairs, wanting to know if you have any bacon?’ said a new voice as someone shoved open the door to Threadfin’s bedroom without a by or leave. ‘Says he’s all out of rats, and he’s blaming you.’ The elder mage, Beezer, glanced about the room with a look of distaste. Anyone would think it was his home.

The tower’s actual owner, if anyone was caring to know, threw up his arms in disgust. ‘Is the entire horde and half the population of Icarthya going to wander into my bed chamber? Can a poor sick viral not get any peace? And no, I don’t have any bacon!’

Beezer shoved a wooden trunk aside with his foot, his obvious disgust showing. ‘A higher standard should be set by all magi, living or undead. You are an imperial mage and head of the viral council.’

‘Well,’ snapped Threadfin, feeling put out and proud all at once, which irritated him no end, ‘I was going to get Nipper to do a spot of dusting ...’ He trailed off as he spotted the mongrel polishing some silver from one of the trunks, which he was certain came from the palace.

He tried to manoeuvre himself out of bed, but Tezcat was quick to shove him back in, tucking the blanket around him. She glanced at Beezer askance as though she didn’t trust him; this in turn made Threadfin nervous. After all, she worshiped the old buzzard most of the time.

And then he understood the truth of things. ‘You’ve got mages guarding this place. They’re not exactly guarding me though, are they?’

Beezer said nothing, and Tezcat stepped away from the bed, scrubbing at her dirty grey fingers as though anxious.

Lyrin swept into the room next, scowling at everyone, as though they were all naughty children up to mischief.

‘Well,’ said Threadfin with some venom, ‘come on in, why don’t you? Let’s make it a party. Why not invite the beggars off the streets while you’re at it. Nip, isn’t there a lock on the front door to this dratted tower? I’m certain there used to be. A strong silver ... ah, let me guess, you’ve got it in the bottom of a sack or trunk somewhere.’

Lyrin’s scowl lingered longest on Beezer. ‘At least do him the courtesy of telling him the truth.’ When the old viral said nothing, she turned her attention to Threadfin. ‘He had you brought up here after the events in the dungeon and posted guards. You see, we returned to the cell after the rats disappeared, and found you unconscious. Not to mention the prisoner, gone. That was two days ago.’

‘Two days?’ Threadfin scratched at a burrowing maggot, knowing there was worse news to come. He braced himself.

‘This is a most serious situation,’ pronounced Beezer, looking at Lyrin with all the expression of a stone. ‘What would you have me do with him exactly?’

‘Do with me?’ Now, Threadfin Todder wasn’t one to come over all anxious about nothing, but had he a living heart, it would’ve been thumping in his throat. At least, that’s how he imagined it was for the living; he’d heard the expression somewhere. ‘Okay, I remember getting half eaten by a thousand rats.’ He glanced down at himself, looking for signs of bites or bits torn out. Nothing of note. ‘What did that hoary old bastard do to me?’

Lyrin moved closer and laid a hand on his brow. It might’ve been a touch comforting if her ravaged face hadn’t ruined it, along with the fact he could sense her viralic power seeping into him, rummaging through his soul.

She stepped back, with a frown deep enough to fold her face in half. With a glance for Beezer, she said, ‘Yes, you are correct. This is beyond anything I’ve come across before.’

Threadfin was near to exploding, ready to leap out of bed and strangle them both. ‘Spectrum above, what is going on here?’ It came out as a shriek.

‘As Lyrin said, the Grim is no longer in his dungeon cell,’ said Beezer, not meeting his eyes.

‘I know that much; I saw him disintegrate into a pile of rodents. Well, any idea where he got off to then? Did the rats escape out into the city?’

‘No, the rats are all dead. In fact, they burst into flames all by themselves.’

‘Then, where is the Grim?’

‘He’s inside of you.’

It took Threadfin a few moments to gather his wits and understand the words. He twisted them this way and that, tried fitting them in another order, but no, they came out the same each time. There was but one meaning, unless it was a bad punchline. Looking up at their faces, with Tezcat biting her lip raw, he could tell it was no joke. ‘But, but ...?’

Those bloody rats and their bites.

‘He must have been planning it for some time,’ noted Lyrin. ‘Whatever magic he used is old and more powerful than we could have imagined. I warned you to be careful. I told you, he’s a survivor.’

Threadfin patted himself up and down, his horror growing with each second. ‘I don’t feel different.’ He glanced up at Beezer. ‘You think I’m dangerous, don’t you? To everyone else. That’s why you’ve got mages and soldiers guarding my tower.’

‘The Grim is our enemy,’ said Beezer, ‘as much as Astra Dar. Both serve Tartaros in their own way, and both will bring ruin and destruction upon this world if allowed. The Grim chose you for a reason, but we do not know why. There are few good options here.’

Threadfin recalled his battle with the Grim in the Tower of Babel. ‘He once told me we were two halves of a whole, but we are now separate souls. Why do this if he cannot reunite us, if he cannot resurrect us as the original Rasnal Nalrost?’

‘The Aura,’ Lyrin suggested. ‘I imagine he wants it, believing it the only way to thwart Astra. She seeks the Stone, but Tartaros will find a way to utilize both. No matter what they seek or do, no matter if they oppose one another, they serve the Darkness. Tartaros always wins.’

Threadfin wasn’t sure she was right. It sounded too simple. No, he’s up to something else. I’m a means to an end, but I’m not going to let him use me. I’ll find a way to purge his shadow from my soul. Somehow.

‘We must keep you secure,’ said Beezer, ‘and safe for now.’

‘Huh, you mean everyone else safe from me. Might as well spit it out, Beez. You don’t trust me. You never did, but now I’m the enemy. You’re loving this aren’t you?’

Beezer grunted, but said nothing. He didn’t need to.

‘Threads would never hurts a fly,’ Tezcat snapped, glaring at the older virals. ‘You isn’t been fair!’

‘It is not about fairness, child,’ Beezer chided. ‘The Grim is within him, and though he may be silent for now, he did not do what he did for no reason. He is planning something and it will not bode well for any of us, including Threadfin, when that plan bears fruit.’

‘Then we musts do somethin’ afore then.’

Lyrin reached out and grabbed Threadfin’s head without warning. Before he could blurt out what he felt was a legitimate complaint, he felt a coldness wash through him.

Letting him go, Lyrin turned and touched Beezer’s arm. ‘I’ve placed wards on his soul that will contain the Grim’s essence for now, so I do not believe he presents any immediate danger. He can move about freely. However, Tezcat is correct. We must act soon. The wards will not last forever.’

She then glanced at Threadfin. ‘Actually, I think there might be a way to help you. Both Aura and Shathra Stone were formed by one individual, and I think he might be the only one who can remedy this. Soul shards are his speciality, and I believe you’ll need the oldest of all to rid your soul of the Grim.’

Threadfin recalled the Grim’s words to him. ‘Volcanus and Wormwood. That’s who you mean, isn’t it? Well, I’d already decided to find this damned Crystal Sword. I guess, now I have no choice.’

‘It must be Volcanus alone,’ said Lyrin. ‘His brother is too treacherous.’

Beezer nodded. ‘Yes, yes, we must find the Despoiler. As Lyrin has said, Wormwood is of no consequence. The Grim may attempt to wrestle your power from you. If I allow you freedom, I’m afraid you must agree to refrain from using magic, no matter the situation or cost. I trust Lyrin’s wards, but you are correct, I do not trust you.’

‘Fine then, how do I find this Despoiler?’ He didn’t sound like a helpful sort, but Threadfin didn’t see another choice.

Silence descended on the bed chamber, until Beezer answered in almost a whisper. ‘No one knows. Volcanus has been missing for millennia. Besides, without using your magic, you cannot possibly search for him.’

‘Then why bring him up?’ Threadfin snapped. Oh, just bloody great. Give me hope, and then rip it from my grasp. And they say I’m cold. Then a thought occurred. ‘Wait, the Grim mentioned Volcanus. I’ll bet he knows where he is, or at least he can give us a place to start looking.’

‘Unless you can communicate with the shadow inside of you,’ said Lyrin, ‘I doubt he will be of much use.’

‘Huh,’ Beezer grunted. ‘Whether he could speak to you or not, the Grim gives nothing away for free.’

‘No, you don’t understand,’ said Threadfin. ‘I’ve met the Grim’s servant.’ They all stared at him as though he’d sprouted a second head, one with the Grim’s face. ‘Orthrus, that two headed parody of Cerberus he created, also known as—’

‘The Librarian,’ Lyrin finished for him. ‘Yes, but since you must not use your magic, and we do not possess the ability to enter other realms, you cannot find him either.’

Threadfin lay back in bed, one arm behind his head, picking at a maggot in his cheek, all with a self-satisfied grin. ‘I’m not just handsome and clever, you know. I’ve got contacts, and these two you should be able to find with some effort.’ He popped the maggot into his mouth and chewed.

‘No,’ Beezer snapped, followed by a low growl, obviously following his line of thought. ‘Your dealings with that twisted pair are well known, and of great concern to the council I might add.’

‘Which council would that be, angelic or viral?’

‘Todder, I forbid it!’

‘What’s he on ’bout, Threads?’ Tezcat had her face screwed up in a look she got whenever something confused and worried her. She didn’t like being left out, did Tezcat Licolo. Liable to do something nasty to someone when she got that look.

‘It’s alright, Cat,’ said Threadfin, lowering his arm and taking her hand in his. ‘I’m talking about Manic and Mania. My old friends, or well, sort of. Shraeds, but a private set-up these days, all with their own little agendas and grievances. Also, they need me to help them. Practically begged me. Perhaps I can strike a deal.’

‘Shraeds?’ she hissed. Her face was filled with concern.

He nodded, ‘Yes, but like I’ve said, not just any shraeds. These two are sentient, likely the only such in existence, and they’ve got a special kind of hatred for the old Grim. If it involves him, they’ll want to be included. Besides, they’d love a chance to mock me in my current predicament.’

Beezer looked far from happy. ‘By the way, the imperatrix has demanded you attend her,’ he snapped. ‘There will be a meeting to discuss these recent events, and what we’re going to do about them.’

‘You didn’t tell her I’m not quite up to it? Thought I might take some time off, you know seeing as how I’ve got an infection.’

Beezer smirked. ‘Your attendance is not optional, Todder, but don’t worry, I’ll be there to keep an eye on you.’

Oh, well that’s just lovely. Threadfin spotted his mongrel servant, polishing a golden pitcher, filched from the palace no doubt. ‘Nip, you’re not doing much, so you’d best lay out my best set of robes. The silk ones, which I—’ He took a second glance at the silk rag in Nipper’s hands and swore. ‘Fine, my second-best set. I do have a reputation to maintain.’

The mongrel flung the pitcher down and stormed off with a series of chirps and growls, no doubt all insults of imaginative quality. Quite an intelligent fellow when he set his mind to it.

‘Hah,’ laughed Threadfin, trying to keep the mood up. Whose mood was anyone’s guess. ‘Why get married when you’ve got a mongrel about the place, eh?’ He glanced at Beezer, who glared back at him with what he thought might be annoyance. Irritation? Anger? The elder mage remained silent. Just glared.

Oh well, you can’t please everyone. ‘Look, the imperatrix has a new advisor who is not who he appears to be. Paladin Raziel.’

‘We are aware of Raziel’s true identity,’ said Beezer.

‘Right, well he’s got dark contacts for an angel. He’ll find Manic and Mania if you ask nice enough, and then they’ll fetch the Librarian back here. Just tell them the Grim is all theirs once we’re done with him. Those two are all about revenge. A bit obsessed, come to think of it.’

Beezer still said nothing, but Threadfin saw it in his face. Annoyance, anger, but acceptance too. He would do it. After all, I’m the one who’s in charge. I think. Both villain and hero, it seems.

With no other choice available, he swung his legs over the edge of the cot, and with Tezcat’s help, got dressed for the upcoming meet, which felt like a judgement hearing. Manic and Mania. Who’d have thought I’d go looking for those idiots? They usually find me after all. His smile fell when he felt a lurch in his gut. A movement, which was unnatural. It might’ve been moths. Big ones, but it might’ve been.

Well, one could unlive and hope, couldn’t one?