15 Interrogation of a Captive

WHEN THREADFIN OPENED his eyes, he found himself in a strange landscape, volcanoes spewing filth in the far distance. Manic and Mania with their prisoner, now wearing a hessian sack instead of shadows, stood waiting. Both shraeds were in their human forms, and were as ornately attired as always. Mania wore a red gown, a golden scarf about her neck, her curves as alluring as ever. Manic was clothed in a golden robe and red belt, and didn’t have a hair out of place.

‘Let me guess?’ said Threadfin, fists on hips, staring about, ‘one of your overrated memory fragments again? I’ve been to one before, remember, and not as advertised let me tell you. It is all about marketing.’

‘A necessity,’ said Mania.

‘A precaution,’ added her brother.

‘An abduction,’ snapped the viral mage, ‘which was entirely unnecessary and downright rude. I mean, you could’ve just asked first. I might’ve said yes. The Spectrum is full of wonders after all.’

Mania floated towards him, her curvaceous form distracting, as was the transparent red gown she wore. She always did that. His bath popped back into his head. I’m undead, he thought, not full dead. He had to mentally kick himself. She was a shraed if nothing else, a scorpion with a lethal sting, her human form nothing but a mask.

‘Let me guess,’ he said, still fuming, and attempting to ignore her carnal overtures, ‘the thing beneath the sack isn’t even the Librarian? You’ve gone and tricked me. Very funny, hah, hah. I want to go home now.’

‘Oh, but it is,’ said Manic, giving the sack a kick. A pair of indistinct mumbles, which were no doubt unimaginative insults, erupted. ‘We always keep our word. When we give it.’ He then tossed an angry look at his sister, which told the tale of a long overdue argument.

‘Which is not often,’ she admitted, circling Threadfin like a prowling slinkt. ‘We do not like making promises, which then must be kept. Most inconvenient.’

‘Inflexible,’ said Manic, still shooting barbs at her with his gaze. Not that she appeared to notice, or care.

‘Irritating,’ she whispered in the mage’s ear, making him jump.

‘Okay,’ Threadfin muttered, ‘I get the idea. You kept your promise. I was going to pay up. There’s no trust these days.’

‘How astute of you to figure it out,’ said Mania from behind him, as she placed two well-manicured hands on his shoulders. Her lips brushed his left ear, sending tingles of excitement through his undead flesh.

‘We know you are in there,’ she whispered, ‘and we know you can hear us. Grim Master and Reaper of Souls. Harken to us. We await you.’

A vicious pain erupted in the viral’s gut, doubling him over. He collapsed to his knees with a gurgle as agony ripped through his insides. When it subsided, he lifted his head to find Mania back beside her brother. Both were watching him as one might examine a beetle, considering whether to squash it or add it to their collection.

‘Was that really called for?’ he croaked, biting back a screech. He hated looking weak in front of these two. Shraeds fed on weakness, after all.

‘We needed certainty,’ she offered, hands spread in what he imagined was meant to be a sign of apology. As close as he’d ever get to one from them. ‘I felt his presence within you, and your reaction confirmed it. We are satisfied you have told us the truth.’

‘In this matter, at least,’ said Manic, eyes narrowed.

‘Yes, brother, in this matter.’

‘Good for bloody you,’ Threadfin growled, getting back to his feet, feeling unsteady. Mages weren’t supposed to get wobbly, especially undead ones. Did nothing for one’s reputation for a start. ‘Just don’t do it again.’

‘Wait a moment.’ Manic was frowning at his sibling. ‘Satisfied? I never agreed to any such position. I am most dissatisfied with this entire debacle. Honestly, sister, dancing to this undead creature’s tune? Most upsetting, indeed.’

‘True, true, but we must play their game. We have given our word, and thus ...’

The sack enclosing the prisoner dissolved, revealing the twin headed monstrosity known as Orthrus, or the Librarian, or as Enep and Sigos. Depending on preference.

The Librarian lunged to the side to escape, but instead fell in a web of magic, caught like a fly. The oblivion chains tightened, their barbs biting deep. The whine Sigos uttered, along with Enep’s growls, produced a strangled sound, which sent shivers through Threadfin’s bones.

The Librarian attempted to transform into its beast persona, Orthrus, but managed a quarter of a change resulting in a hideous mashup. An image Threadfin knew would haunt him for nights to come. After a few minutes of struggle, the Librarian gave in. It returned to its human-like identity.

Manic gestured in an off-handed manner, seemingly bored. The web of magic dragged the prisoner before the viral mage.

Sigos’ lone eye bulged in his forehead, his head being the smaller of the two. Enep, reached up one of their hands to reposition his spectacles, knocked askew during their attempted flight.

Their arms were mismatched, one shorter and thinner than the other, the larger on the side with the smaller head, and vice versa. The legs were both stick thin and hairless, barely serviceable. The Librarian, now that he/they/it was kneeling before him, appeared to have a hunched back, which he hadn’t noticed the first time they’d met.

And I thought I had it bad. I don’t think the Grim put much effort into looks when he created this. He heard a rumble of laughter in the distance. The Grim had no heart, whether Rasnal Nalrost once did or not.

‘Hmm, no, yes,’ muttered Enep, ‘I do recall wishing we never meet again, Mr. Todder. No, yes, our business transaction was completed to the satisfaction of all, I believe.’

‘Was it now?’ asked Threadfin. He noted the twin shraeds had backed off, allowing him to interrogate the prisoner, who looked suitably terrified. Or at least, the smaller head did. ‘My sister’s soul? Aiyana Todralan. Remember her?’

‘Business, Mr. Todder. Business. You requested information for which there was a price. We gave you what you requested, and we received payment. Legitimate and correct. All in order.’

‘Recorded in one of those big books,’ said Sigos, ‘the one we can never find. Wrote it in there myself in red ink. Always those ones in red ink.’

‘Um, no, yes, recorded in red ink as Sigos says, and underlined. Indexed and stamped. You see, just business.’

Sigos was swivelling his head this way and that, trying to see where their guards had gotten to. He was muttering, but Threadfin managed to catch some of it. ‘... tasty souls, with salt and pepper, with just a pinch of rosemary ... I don’t like those two. They’re staring at us. Why are they staring at us? Shraeds don’t taste nice. Urgh! Need a lot of spice.’

‘Quiet now, Sig,’ said the larger head. ‘I’m attempting to find out what all this fuss is over. We shall be home in time for supper.’

Sigos stopped, looked about with his lone eye, and then gave Threadfin a vicious glare. ‘We was having our supper when we got snatched. You sent them to snatch us. You! We was having supper.’

‘My apologies,’ said Threadfin with a false smile, ‘but you snatched my sister’s soul when I told you to take mine as the price.’

‘Tasty souls,’ said Sigos licking his lips. ‘I’m still hungry. We never finished supper. Can we eat him, instead? I don’t like stale food, but our stomach is rumbling. So loud, I can’t hear myself think.’

Enep ignored his brother head and said, ‘Your sister’s soul cannot be why you had us brought here.’ He half glanced back over his shoulder. ‘That is a side issue. What is this about?’

‘If you haven’t devoured her soul, which for your sake I hope you have not, then I want you to set her free. Then, I want some information. This time without a price attached. Or if you like, the price can be your freedom.’

‘Yes, no, impossible,’ said Enep with a sniff, fiddling with his spectacles.

‘Which part?’

‘Both.’

‘Tasty, crunch,’ said Sigos. ‘We were saving her for later. Stale, but she’s got bite, texture—’

‘Release her soul, immediately,’ ordered Threadfin in a dangerous tone, eyeing both heads, ‘or I will leave you in their embrace for eternity.’ He gave a curt nod in the direction of Manic and Mania. ‘I believe you and the twins have unfinished business. After all, you were created in mockery of them. They don’t like being mocked. Not those two.’

‘What stops them from torturing us once we do as you ask?’ demanded Enep. ‘Yes, no, you have no power over what they do or don’t. You think us fools?’

Threadfin gave the Librarian what he thought was a cold grin. ‘I have something they need more than you. Your master. Missing, isn’t he? Haven’t you wondered where he’s gotten to lately? Not on holidays, I can tell you.’ Threadfin was guessing they already knew something.

‘You dirty rat, Todder,’ the Grim screeched, but Threadfin managed to mute the voice. He was getting better at it. He felt the wards, their hard but flexible edges, and he found he could tuck the Grim’s voice behind them, with effort.

Sigos had gone quiet, confirming Threadfin’s suspicions. Enep looked suitably cowed. ‘Very well. We will release her soul, once we are free. Our master—’

‘Isn’t part of this negotiation. I’ll ask my friends,’ another nod to Mania and her brother, wondering if friends was a bit strong, ‘to make certain you do. Now, to the next bit of business. I’m looking for the Despoiler, also known as Volcanus. Where or how can I find him?’

Enep blinked once, and Sigo’s head seemed to shrink into their misshapen shoulders. ‘No, no, no,’ Sigos whispered, over and over, his lone eye wild with fear. ‘Yes, no, how do you know that name?’ Enep demanded.

‘Never you mind what I know or how I know it. I—’

Enep raised one of their arms and pointed a bony finger at Threadfin. ‘No, yes, it won’t be long. Our Grim Master will soon have your mind, body, soul, and magic too, hah! You can’t fool us. Warded you are, but those won’t hold. You are doomed.’

Sigos’ head popped up a fraction, nodding vigorously. ‘We know everything.’ He glanced at the larger head. ‘Tell him how we’re the fount of all knowledge. Go on, tell him. I love when we tell them that. Especially before we eat them. Don’t know why, but it makes them tastier.’

Enep sighed, lowering their arm. ‘Sig, you are ruining my moment.’

‘Oh, sorry ... ahh!’ A spasm of pain erupted in both faces, their body trembling. The dark web of magic, its filaments glistening like oil, had begun to tighten.

‘Ah, ah!’ They began waving both arms while Sigos screeched. ‘Volcanus is hiding in plain sight. In plain sight!’

Threadfin glanced at Mania, and nodded his thanks. She relented, and the Librarian ceased its cries. ‘What do you mean? Bear in mind, I have no patience for riddles and neither do your captors. They’ve given you a taste of what they can do to you, for eternity.’

Enep began to chuckle as though he hadn’t been writhing in agony a moment before. ‘In plain sight, no, yes, hidden in your world. For millennia, in plain sight so they would not see. The angels are blind to mortals, oblivious, but for one.’

‘We don’t like that one, do we?’ asked Sigos, before spitting at Threadfin’s feet. ‘I don’t like this one much neither. We could feed him to our pet instead.’

‘No, we don’t like him, Sig, but we won’t worry about him now. Volcanos is in human form, no yes, pretending to be a breather as you call them, a human. The first angel to come into existence. The Father of the Fallen Ones. The Despoiler.’

Threadfin stepped up to the prisoner, and looked Enep right in the eyes. ‘Who is it? A name ... or I hand you to your fate.’

As if on que, Manic and Mania approached, and the Librarian didn’t need to turn around to notice them. ‘You don’t know what he would do to us if he discovered we told.’

‘Worse than these two might do right now?’

‘Perhaps.’

Manic seemed disinterested, but Mania enjoyed her role. She leaned in to whisper something in Sigos’ ear. Whatever she said, the small head grew paler, the lone eye developing a violent twitch. ‘He’s a paladin!’ he screeched, and Enep’s sharp glance at his brother head confirmed it.

‘A name, damn you.’ Threadfin felt a stab of pain in his gut, but ignored it. No doubt, the Grim wasn’t happy, but he had not managed to take Threadfin’s mind and soul just yet.

‘Paladin Rajax,’ Sigos cried.

Threadfin felt stunned. The same Paladin Rajax who’d been Governor of Lame while he’d been a lowly thief. The same Rajax who’d ... he remembered Crawl’s words to him, back then.

‘Our mutual benefactor wants your head to adorn his mantel, for parties and such. A nice mantle, all red-veined marble, you know the good stuff. I like a nice bit of marble. Now, I’ve faith in you, and I told him that. This job will set all to rights.’

Crawl, who he now knew to be Adal, an angel in human form when he wasn’t a fat conclavist named Davard Tystrus. A true angel, and a meddlesome crafty bastard. He touched the silver crucifix at his neck. There’d been a time when he’d revered such names, praying to them. He tucked the crucifix back inside his robes.

‘Adal,’ he said in a low voice, ‘that is who you meant isn’t it? When you said the angels are blind to mortals, but for one. Adal knows Volcanos.’ There was no such thing as coincidence in his book.

Enep gave another chuckle. ‘Why of course he does, no, yes, and why wouldn’t he? Volcanos is Adal’s father. Father and son, no, yes. A family of betrayal and deceit.’

Threadfin moved off a few paces. He needed to get himself free of the Grim before the old bastard managed to steal his magic, or worse, his mind. However, he needed to tread carefully. Adal was an ally of sorts, although he didn’t trust him. However, Volcanus was a dangerous unknown. He could hardly march up and tap Paladin Rajax on the shoulder. Or could he?

When he turned back, he nodded to both shraeds. Manic clicked his fingers, and the ghouls dragged the prisoner away. Sigos cried out, and Enep demanded to be set free at once. Business was business, after all.

‘You have what you came for,’ said Mania with a smile warm enough to start his heart. ‘Now, our price, undead one. Business is business as Orthrus likes to remind us.’

‘The Grim is yours once I get free of him and not before. Patience, Mania.’

‘Not one of my virtues.’

‘You’ll have to acquire some then. I promised the Librarian freedom, and he’s promised to release Aiyana’s soul. Don’t forget to hold him to it.’

She turned and walked back to her brother and their charge, but over her shoulder said, ‘The Librarian is ours, and so is your sister until we have been paid in full. Then we will hold him to it.’

Threadfin felt enraged, and was about to do the unthinkable, and reach for his magic. He felt another presence also reaching, as though a hand clawed up through his gut. He cried out in agony. You idiot, that’s what the Grim wants you to do.

Mania laughed, and Manic waved in a half-hearted farewell, as bored as always.

Everything turned to a shimmer of white light a second time, and Threadfin cried out as his pain reached new heights.

Pain and laughter.

‡

WHEN THREADFIN RETURNED to his world, it was to utter confusion. After all, with him writhing and twisting in the courtyard, wailing, and cursing in agony, why wouldn’t it be?

Greencloak guards levelled their spears at him, as Lyrin and Tezcat rushed to his side, with Podral Pole hovering in the background clucking like a mother hen. It was enough to unnerve the most ardent of undead mages. Why didn’t I take up gardening, or buy a ship and sail the Adalcis in search of wonders? A bit late for regrets, but at least the pain was fading.

Lyrin and Pole helped him to his feet, with Tezcat frowning and pawing at him, no doubt checking for holes. Beezer approached with the imperatrix at his side. Both looked upset with him.

‘Todder, what have you gone and done?’ Beezer demanded.

‘Why is it always something I’ve done, eh? Never a thank you for saving the world. Always, “what has he done this time.”’

‘You’ve gone and lost the Librarian,’ his sister accused.

For a moment, she reminded him of Aiyana. Well, as far as the shouting bit went. ‘Yeah, well I suppose I did do that. Wasn’t my fault, though.’

He brushed himself off, shoving Tezcat’s hands away as she tried to help. Honestly, she was getting as bad as Nipper, although he preferred her fawning over him then having her pawing at Ralan. He gave a shudder. ‘Apologies for the manner of my return, but the Grim is upset, which should please you all at least.’

‘Where are Manic and Mania?’ Beezer demanded, with a glare suggesting his annoyance was reaching new heights. ‘Where in Hell’s Teeth is Orthrus? And don’t you dare point out the irony of that question. You’ve been gone for hours, Todder.’

Glancing up at the lightening sky, Threadfin realised it was near morning. He shrugged. ‘I did get some information out of the prisoner as it happens. Quiet a chatty fellow, or fellows, once you get a handle on him, or them.’

‘Todder?’ Beezer did not look to be in a chatty mood, which was so unlike him, stood there within the gloom of his black dalba, looming like a gigantic underfed crow. Quite unnerving and unnecessary.

‘We need to talk,’ said Threadfin. ‘We have plans to make, and fast.’

‘What sort of plans?’ asked Beezer suspiciously.

‘Oh, nothing much. Just the kidnap and interrogation of a certain Church paladin.’

‘We will discuss this inside.’ The imperatrix turned on her heel and marched away. She glanced over her shoulder as she went. ‘You have twenty minutes to get yourself tidied up. You’ve a lot of explaining to do. And it had better be good ... little brother.’

Oh, it is, he thought wryly. Unfortunately, it’s very, very good.