HOME | DD

Description

[In Theory]

    They spent several days after that, toiling away and, eventually settled on loading the bodies into an enclosed raft and sinking it to the bottom of the ocean. Though they did surface, not wanting to drain their batteries too much, they left their craft to drift aimlessly on the waves, all the while waiting for their plans to solidify. After recovering from his ordeal, or as close as he was able to, Sylvester returned to his duties and joined with Lydia to test the new theory he had come up with. Though she was skeptical, their studies into the matter had actually been rather promising, all except for one specific problem.

“It’s still dissociated energy, and in Huge fucking quantities,” Lydia insisted, “It’s the exact reason why nobody has ever pulled the damn thing through to begin with, it’s just too much damn power and you’re talking about hitting it with a mallet!”

“But it could work,” Sylvester insisted.

“It’s like walking up to the mouth of a volcano and tossing a bomb into it!”

“But It Could Work!” He insisted, throwing a book across the table, hard enough to drop it onto the floor.

“It Could!” Lydia retorted, picking up the book and slamming it back down, “But there’s no proof that it will, for all we know it could just unmoor him!”

“Well we won’t know unless we try!”

“And die in the fucking process!”

“For the love of all the Gods Would You Shut The Hell UP!” Belix groaned, massaging her painfully throbbing temples.

                Sylvester looked over at her and the rest of the crew spread across the dining hall and gave her an incredulous scoff.

“I’m sorry, are we upsetting you?” Sylvester demanded.

“YES!” Belix yelled back, “You’ve been at this for over a week already! ‘Yes we could’, ‘No we shouldn’t’, ‘But we must’, ‘But we shouldn’t’, just fucking stop!”

                She buried her face in her hands and Granger reached across the table to give her a comforting pat on the back. Meanwhile, Zeesa was quietly considering the situation.

“It does seem like our best option,” she offered, and the whole room groaned in response, “What?”

“Do you really want to fuck him that bad?” Belix grumbled.

“Think of it this way,” Zeesa held up her hand, “Your arm got bit, it’s infected and rotting, what do you do?”

“Cut it off, cauterize the wound, wrap it, hope the infection doesn’t reassert itself,” Evie supplied in a bored tone.

“Exactly,” Zeesa pushed forward insistently, “You don’t just grab an axe and lop it off, you take some precautions, keep yourself from bleeding out.”

“I’m not sure I follow…” Noob put in, a glowing red eye peeking out from under his fedora as he leaned back in his chair.

“You could redirect the energy,” Donald offered, he and Stitch sitting at the center of the table, munching on a loaf of bread.

“Not with that much energy,” Lydia sighed.

“Maybe not all of it, but…like a chimney, some of the heat gets out but the smoke goes up and you send it somewhere else.”

“Okay, again, You’re talking about the difference between a fire, and a Goddamn BOMB!” Lydia snapped at him, “To funnel it you’d need something that’s almost as strong, or somehow capable of absorbing that power without exploding…”

“Or…you send it somewhere else…” Sylvester mused quietly, then tore out of the room, disappearing into the hall.

                Everyone watched him leave and a few of them let out a depressed sigh.

“Did…” Donald wondered curiously, “Did I help?”

“You tried,” Belix mentioned as she gently tapped her finger against his head.

                A few minutes later, Sylvester reappeared, a new book open in his hands as he excitedly jabbed a finger at the page.

“Here, see,” he dropped the book in front of Lydia, “Right here, it says that you can’t activate two transportations at once, otherwise it scrambles the energies and…”

“I can read idiot,” Lydia took the book from him and quickly scanned it, “Yeah, so what?”

“If we open a portal into another world…”

“It would detach from his current host and we’re right back where we started.”

“And Slam that door shut!” Sylvester declared triumphantly, “Before it has a chance to adapt to the new environment, to transfer over to it and become part of it…”

“…theoretically…” Lydia considered for a moment, “That, Might, interfere with the projection, breaking the connection and causing the energy rebound that we’re actually looking for.”

“And the energy would be shunted into a safe direction…”

“Safe for us anyway,” Lydia continued to muse, “You do realize that you’re basically just making this someone else’s problem.”

“Not if we’re careful about where we send it,” he stated, giving her a genuinely evil smile as he pulled a slip of paper from the book and showing it to her, “We could even send it nowhere at all…”

“Okay…” Belix raised her head cautiously, “What the Hell is he talking about now?”

“Um…strictly speaking, when you use a teleportation spell, it slips you through a different dimension, or, limbo, space between space…”

“The mirror!” Granger declared excitedly, “We could use the mirror to…”

“Different kind of spell,” Lydia shook her head, “You’re technically joining two spaced together not…”

“Oh, fucking Hell!” Granger rolled his eyes.

“Now you know what I’ve been going through!” Sylvester snapped incredulously.

                Lydia stared at the page and shook her head.

“Why are you tearing pages out of my books?” she demanded.

“I wasn’t,” Sylvester responded awkwardly, “Well, I did just now but…”

“What’s on the damn thing?” Belix demanded walking around the table to examine it.

“A list of transporters,” Lydia shrugged, passing the page over to her, “Devices that move things through space and time…”

“And if we can get one of those…”

“’IF’!” Lydia snapped at him, “Half of these things are lost, the others are…Gods know where…”

“Wait,” Belix tapped a section on the page, “I know where this one is…”

                They all looked at her curiously and Belix shrugged.

“I’ll set in a course,” she stated, passing the page back to Lydia, “We should get some supplies while where there, did, um, did anyone check our coffers?”

“I think we’ve got enough to load up…one more time,” Granger mentioned, then, off of Belix’s disappointed expression, “Queen Bitch was playing this close to the vest, I’m pretty sure she was getting our supplies on credit, privileges of position and all that.”

“So how do we…” Belix began but Evie cut her off.

“Jewelry, from the bodies,” the blonde explained, twirling a curled hair around her finger, “Not much, but some gold, silver and opals, I’ve been melting it down, we should get a pretty penny from it.”

“…Are you alright?” Belix wondered, cocking her head to the side.

                Evie let go of the strand and let it bounce back to her face before responding.

“I’ve been shoveling the bodies of my comrades,” she responded bluntly, “Wiping their blood and cleaning up their entrails, soldiers who served the same order I’ve been working for my entire life…” Evie turned to the Captain, her expression unreadable and blank, “So, if I’m screaming in my sleep, I apologize.”

“Okay…” Belix skirted around her as she exited the room, “Just…yeah, just get the coin.”

                They made landfall a few days later, docking the ship of the coast, the group split in two, with Belix and Sylvester heading out to locate their prize while the others shifted into the market, pawning off the gold ingots and precious stones in exchange for supplies and weaponry. As they shopped, Granger kept a watchful eye on Evie, comforting her and helping as best he could, though she gave no reaction to his efforts.

                Belix got her information at the first bar she visited, all for the price of a pint and a few copper coins. She and Sylvester hailed a cab on the outskirts of town and arrived at the mansion sometime before midday. They knocked on the door, but nobody was home, so they let the cab go back to town and decided to wait. After a while they got bored and Belix started to aimlessly wander the grounds with Sylvester in tow.

“So…” he mused aloud, “You and this butler…”

“Nothing happened,” she responded morosely, then smirked over her shoulder, “But don’t tell the Wormskin that, I want her to suffer.”

“Wormskin?” Sylvester cocked an eyebrow curiously.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Belix shrugged and continued walking, “Desert Elves, they’re all descended from a giant worm.”

“Huh…don’t think I ever heard that.”

“Yup, children of Typhon, or, one of his kids, the one he discarded,” she spoke languidly, staring off into the horizon, “It’s basically our sworn enemy…”

“Why?”

“No idea,” Belix sighed, “But most of them have their heads up their asses and I like screwing with them so, don’t ruin this for me alright?”

“Sure thing captain,” Sylvester snickered, then he saw her ears twitching, “What is it?”

“You hear that?” she turned around and ran past him, clapping Sylvester playfully on the arm as she passed.

                They saw Charlotte approaching, head down, clearly lost in thought, and reached the porch just as she did, the other woman seemed to scarcely notice. After making introductions, she invited them inside for tea and they did their best to explain their position. Charlotte finished brewing the tea and brought it over to them on a silver tray.

“So…I was right then?” Charlotte mentioned with a smirk.

“That’s really what you took from this?” Belix grumbled taking her cup, and then cautiously sniffing it.

“Du petit merde,” Charlotte gave her an evil smile as she gazed at her across the table, “If I was going to poison you, you already be under my rose garden.”

“So you think,” Belix leered back at her, “When’s your boy getting back anyway?”

“A few hours I think, a few hours more if he’s doing it right.”

                Sylvester considered asking what they Hell they were talking about when he noticed the horrible and unblinking stare they were giving each other and decided to change the subject.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Charlotte, while we do appreciate the hospitality,” he paused as Belix hissed through her teeth, loud enough to cut him off, “…But! We sincerely don’t have time to engage in pleasantries we…”

“Stop the demon, save the world, trust me young man, I’ve heard it all before,” she told him with a bored patter, still glaring at Belix, “Sit down and drink your tea.”

“No!” he snapped, and when that didn’t get her attention he threw the cup across the room and jumped to his feet, “You know what I came here for, you know why…and I’ll take it from you if I have to…”

                Charlotte finally turned her head in his direction, aiming a steely eyed glare that caused him to caused him to take a step back. Her expression was both fearless, and pitiless. Across the table, Belix let out an irritated sigh.

“Who do you think has the spiders to begin with?” she demanded.

                As Captain spoke, Charlotte pulled her hand from behind the serving tray, showing him a silver carving knife and letting it rest between them. Sylvester swallowed hard and quickly sat down, mumbling his way through an unintelligible apology. Charlotte then pointed to the puddle of wasted tea and broken glass on the floor.

“Clean that up!” she commanded and he nodded, immediately walking over to the puddle and plucking the shards out of it, she turned away from him, glaring at Belix again, “I was talking to you.”

“Good luck with that,” Belix muttered, sipping from her cup, “If you don’t mind my asking, how’d you wind up with those things anyway?”

“My old teacher bequeathed them to me…after he died.”

“You don’t say,” Belix glanced over at the knife and carefully slid it back under the tray, this seemed to amuse Charlotte.

“I’m not going to give them to you,” she finally stated.

“WHAT?!” Sylvester demanded, throwing down the shards in disgust.

                Both women stared at him judgmentally, and Belix pointed at the mess he had made until he got back to work.

“They’re not mine to give,” Charlotte elaborated, “They bond with their partner you see, and my bond with them was…severed…”

“But you’re still kicking,” Belix observed, “I’m guessing there’s a way to pass that on to someone else.”

“Perceptive…” Charlotte lowered her eyes contemplatively, staring at the table, “I gave them an order, to keep him safe.”

“So, he could just order them to…” Sylvester mentioned as he was soaking up the stain with the end of his cape.

“No,” Charlotte cut him off, “When I say they are bonded, I mean truly, in heart and soul, it’s not a matter of duty or logic,” she watched Sylvester walk back to the table carring a handful of broken glass that he dropped into the silver tray before sitting down, “If he were to give it to you, he would have to feel it, down to his core, Will It, beyond all reason…”

                A tear leaked down Charlotte’s face and she wiped it away, even Belix seemed stunned to silence by the unexpected display.

“I will ask him to go with you,” she muttered to the pair, smiling sadly, “It’ll…do him some good, to get out of the house.

                After a brief stop-off and a change of clothes, Clyde arrived at the mansion just before dinner time.

    His head was still buzzing with the conversation he had with Maggie, before everything had gone to Hell, he wasn’t really certain that they had worked through their problems, and, they still hadn’t, but, he felt like they were making headway. He ran a hand over the wounds on his torso, souvenirs from a recent battle, held together by magic thread and aggravated by the long walk. Seeing the mansion in the distance, he bit down, and marched ahead, ignoring the pain. He opened the door with a spare key, and Charlotte met him in the hall.

“Mon Bebe!” she declared happily, giving him a hug, then glanced over his face, “Ooooh, you’re looking pale, you’re not hurting are you?”

“Nothing I can’t handle…” he responded, the heard the footsteps coming from the kitchen, “Wha…who’s that?”

“Friends…hopefully,” Sylvester mentioned as he walked into view, he held out his hand in greeting, “I don’t believe we’ve met, but my name’s Sylvester Brandon, you already know Belix.”

                He nodded behind him where the Elfin Girl waited, leaning against an archway, she was giving him a curious look.

“Something on my face?” Clyde wondered.

“What the Fuck happened to your eyes?” she responded.

                Charlotte grumbled loudly, but kissed him on the forehead before stepping away.

“Clyde O’Dare,” he responded, shaking Sylvester’s hand.

                He then walked over to Belix who was still leering at him strangely.

“What’s this about?” he demanded, but she just leaned closer, examining the space of his eyes where the whites had turned a luminescent blue.

“Gods that is just fucking weird,” she commented and he rolled his eyes.

“I’ve had an eventful few days since you left,” Clyde snapped, “Now, what is this, what the Hell are you doing in my house?”

                They explained their situation, and Clyde did his best to absorb the information, backing away, he leaned against the other side of the hall as he listened. When it was over, he nodded his head and let out a sigh.

“So…that’s what you meant when you said one of your people had been killed,” Clyde mentioned.

“Not really killed,” Sylvester corrected him, “But, possessed, destroyed? Shattered?”

“Killed,” Belix corrected him, “Poetry’s nice and all, but, at the end of the day, that’s what happened.”

“And you think I can help you?”

“We know…” Sylvester tried to insist only to get cut off.

“We suspect,” Belix spoke over him, “And the only way to test the theory.”

“And walk right into the firing line,” Clyde nodded.

                Belix walked forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke softly, “I wish I could, but I can’t even give you a guarantee that you’ll survive.”

“Or you could just give us the damn spiders and…”

“Shut up!” Belix yelled at him, shaking her head in disgust before turning back to Clyde, “We…have no right to request this of you, and you have no reason to help us,” she backed away, folding her arms, “There is no reward, and you’ve no promise other than our word and our gratitude…please…help us…”

                Clyde kept his silence, thinking it over, then glanced over at Charlotte.

“…we do have our own problems, issues that we need to handle,” he surmised.

“They will keep,” she assured him, “There are lives attached to this…”

“How many?”

“More than just the one,” Charlotte told him softly.

“And Maggie?”

“Who?!” Belix demanded.

“None of your Godsdamned business!” Charlotte snapped, then looked over at Sylvester and sighed, “You’re…I doubt that the dark haired one will accept another delay, he’s been a bit squirrely all afternoon…”

                Clyde nodded his head, staring at the ground, still indecisive.

“It’s what the Silk Merchant would do,” Charlotte whispered to him and he let out a defeated sigh.

“What the Hell is that?”

“I’ll need some time to gather my things,” Clyde spoke over Belix, still staring at the floor, “Prepare for a long trip…”

“So you’re coming?” she asked.

“I don’t really have much of a choice,” he raised his head at last, a weary smirk on his lips, “Do I?”

                Belix nodded, then stepped forward and shook his hand.

“We’re docked at Pier-27, try to be there before midnight, we’ll be waiting for you,” she smiled warmly, “Welcome aboard.”

Description

[In Theory]

    They spent several days after that, toiling away and, eventually settled on loading the bodies into an enclosed raft and sinking it to the bottom of the ocean. Though they did surface, not wanting to drain their batteries too much, they left their craft to drift aimlessly on the waves, all the while waiting for their plans to solidify. After recovering from his ordeal, or as close as he was able to, Sylvester returned to his duties and joined with Lydia to test the new theory he had come up with. Though she was skeptical, their studies into the matter had actually been rather promising, all except for one specific problem.

“It’s still dissociated energy, and in Huge fucking quantities,” Lydia insisted, “It’s the exact reason why nobody has ever pulled the damn thing through to begin with, it’s just too much damn power and you’re talking about hitting it with a mallet!”

“But it could work,” Sylvester insisted.

“It’s like walking up to the mouth of a volcano and tossing a bomb into it!”

“But It Could Work!” He insisted, throwing a book across the table, hard enough to drop it onto the floor.

“It Could!” Lydia retorted, picking up the book and slamming it back down, “But there’s no proof that it will, for all we know it could just unmoor him!”

“Well we won’t know unless we try!”

“And die in the fucking process!”

“For the love of all the Gods Would You Shut The Hell UP!” Belix groaned, massaging her painfully throbbing temples.

                Sylvester looked over at her and the rest of the crew spread across the dining hall and gave her an incredulous scoff.

“I’m sorry, are we upsetting you?” Sylvester demanded.

“YES!” Belix yelled back, “You’ve been at this for over a week already! ‘Yes we could’, ‘No we shouldn’t’, ‘But we must’, ‘But we shouldn’t’, just fucking stop!”

                She buried her face in her hands and Granger reached across the table to give her a comforting pat on the back. Meanwhile, Zeesa was quietly considering the situation.

“It does seem like our best option,” she offered, and the whole room groaned in response, “What?”

“Do you really want to fuck him that bad?” Belix grumbled.

“Think of it this way,” Zeesa held up her hand, “Your arm got bit, it’s infected and rotting, what do you do?”

“Cut it off, cauterize the wound, wrap it, hope the infection doesn’t reassert itself,” Evie supplied in a bored tone.

“Exactly,” Zeesa pushed forward insistently, “You don’t just grab an axe and lop it off, you take some precautions, keep yourself from bleeding out.”

“I’m not sure I follow…” Noob put in, a glowing red eye peeking out from under his fedora as he leaned back in his chair.

“You could redirect the energy,” Donald offered, he and Stitch sitting at the center of the table, munching on a loaf of bread.

“Not with that much energy,” Lydia sighed.

“Maybe not all of it, but…like a chimney, some of the heat gets out but the smoke goes up and you send it somewhere else.”

“Okay, again, You’re talking about the difference between a fire, and a Goddamn BOMB!” Lydia snapped at him, “To funnel it you’d need something that’s almost as strong, or somehow capable of absorbing that power without exploding…”

“Or…you send it somewhere else…” Sylvester mused quietly, then tore out of the room, disappearing into the hall.

                Everyone watched him leave and a few of them let out a depressed sigh.

“Did…” Donald wondered curiously, “Did I help?”

“You tried,” Belix mentioned as she gently tapped her finger against his head.

                A few minutes later, Sylvester reappeared, a new book open in his hands as he excitedly jabbed a finger at the page.

“Here, see,” he dropped the book in front of Lydia, “Right here, it says that you can’t activate two transportations at once, otherwise it scrambles the energies and…”

“I can read idiot,” Lydia took the book from him and quickly scanned it, “Yeah, so what?”

“If we open a portal into another world…”

“It would detach from his current host and we’re right back where we started.”

“And Slam that door shut!” Sylvester declared triumphantly, “Before it has a chance to adapt to the new environment, to transfer over to it and become part of it…”

“…theoretically…” Lydia considered for a moment, “That, Might, interfere with the projection, breaking the connection and causing the energy rebound that we’re actually looking for.”

“And the energy would be shunted into a safe direction…”

“Safe for us anyway,” Lydia continued to muse, “You do realize that you’re basically just making this someone else’s problem.”

“Not if we’re careful about where we send it,” he stated, giving her a genuinely evil smile as he pulled a slip of paper from the book and showing it to her, “We could even send it nowhere at all…”

“Okay…” Belix raised her head cautiously, “What the Hell is he talking about now?”

“Um…strictly speaking, when you use a teleportation spell, it slips you through a different dimension, or, limbo, space between space…”

“The mirror!” Granger declared excitedly, “We could use the mirror to…”

“Different kind of spell,” Lydia shook her head, “You’re technically joining two spaced together not…”

“Oh, fucking Hell!” Granger rolled his eyes.

“Now you know what I’ve been going through!” Sylvester snapped incredulously.

                Lydia stared at the page and shook her head.

“Why are you tearing pages out of my books?” she demanded.

“I wasn’t,” Sylvester responded awkwardly, “Well, I did just now but…”

“What’s on the damn thing?” Belix demanded walking around the table to examine it.

“A list of transporters,” Lydia shrugged, passing the page over to her, “Devices that move things through space and time…”

“And if we can get one of those…”

“’IF’!” Lydia snapped at him, “Half of these things are lost, the others are…Gods know where…”

“Wait,” Belix tapped a section on the page, “I know where this one is…”

                They all looked at her curiously and Belix shrugged.

“I’ll set in a course,” she stated, passing the page back to Lydia, “We should get some supplies while where there, did, um, did anyone check our coffers?”

“I think we’ve got enough to load up…one more time,” Granger mentioned, then, off of Belix’s disappointed expression, “Queen Bitch was playing this close to the vest, I’m pretty sure she was getting our supplies on credit, privileges of position and all that.”

“So how do we…” Belix began but Evie cut her off.

“Jewelry, from the bodies,” the blonde explained, twirling a curled hair around her finger, “Not much, but some gold, silver and opals, I’ve been melting it down, we should get a pretty penny from it.”

“…Are you alright?” Belix wondered, cocking her head to the side.

                Evie let go of the strand and let it bounce back to her face before responding.

“I’ve been shoveling the bodies of my comrades,” she responded bluntly, “Wiping their blood and cleaning up their entrails, soldiers who served the same order I’ve been working for my entire life…” Evie turned to the Captain, her expression unreadable and blank, “So, if I’m screaming in my sleep, I apologize.”

“Okay…” Belix skirted around her as she exited the room, “Just…yeah, just get the coin.”

                They made landfall a few days later, docking the ship of the coast, the group split in two, with Belix and Sylvester heading out to locate their prize while the others shifted into the market, pawning off the gold ingots and precious stones in exchange for supplies and weaponry. As they shopped, Granger kept a watchful eye on Evie, comforting her and helping as best he could, though she gave no reaction to his efforts.

                Belix got her information at the first bar she visited, all for the price of a pint and a few copper coins. She and Sylvester hailed a cab on the outskirts of town and arrived at the mansion sometime before midday. They knocked on the door, but nobody was home, so they let the cab go back to town and decided to wait. After a while they got bored and Belix started to aimlessly wander the grounds with Sylvester in tow.

“So…” he mused aloud, “You and this butler…”

“Nothing happened,” she responded morosely, then smirked over her shoulder, “But don’t tell the Wormskin that, I want her to suffer.”

“Wormskin?” Sylvester cocked an eyebrow curiously.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Belix shrugged and continued walking, “Desert Elves, they’re all descended from a giant worm.”

“Huh…don’t think I ever heard that.”

“Yup, children of Typhon, or, one of his kids, the one he discarded,” she spoke languidly, staring off into the horizon, “It’s basically our sworn enemy…”

“Why?”

“No idea,” Belix sighed, “But most of them have their heads up their asses and I like screwing with them so, don’t ruin this for me alright?”

“Sure thing captain,” Sylvester snickered, then he saw her ears twitching, “What is it?”

“You hear that?” she turned around and ran past him, clapping Sylvester playfully on the arm as she passed.

                They saw Charlotte approaching, head down, clearly lost in thought, and reached the porch just as she did, the other woman seemed to scarcely notice. After making introductions, she invited them inside for tea and they did their best to explain their position. Charlotte finished brewing the tea and brought it over to them on a silver tray.

“So…I was right then?” Charlotte mentioned with a smirk.

“That’s really what you took from this?” Belix grumbled taking her cup, and then cautiously sniffing it.

“Du petit merde,” Charlotte gave her an evil smile as she gazed at her across the table, “If I was going to poison you, you already be under my rose garden.”

“So you think,” Belix leered back at her, “When’s your boy getting back anyway?”

“A few hours I think, a few hours more if he’s doing it right.”

                Sylvester considered asking what they Hell they were talking about when he noticed the horrible and unblinking stare they were giving each other and decided to change the subject.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Charlotte, while we do appreciate the hospitality,” he paused as Belix hissed through her teeth, loud enough to cut him off, “…But! We sincerely don’t have time to engage in pleasantries we…”

“Stop the demon, save the world, trust me young man, I’ve heard it all before,” she told him with a bored patter, still glaring at Belix, “Sit down and drink your tea.”

“No!” he snapped, and when that didn’t get her attention he threw the cup across the room and jumped to his feet, “You know what I came here for, you know why…and I’ll take it from you if I have to…”

                Charlotte finally turned her head in his direction, aiming a steely eyed glare that caused him to caused him to take a step back. Her expression was both fearless, and pitiless. Across the table, Belix let out an irritated sigh.

“Who do you think has the spiders to begin with?” she demanded.

                As Captain spoke, Charlotte pulled her hand from behind the serving tray, showing him a silver carving knife and letting it rest between them. Sylvester swallowed hard and quickly sat down, mumbling his way through an unintelligible apology. Charlotte then pointed to the puddle of wasted tea and broken glass on the floor.

“Clean that up!” she commanded and he nodded, immediately walking over to the puddle and plucking the shards out of it, she turned away from him, glaring at Belix again, “I was talking to you.”

“Good luck with that,” Belix muttered, sipping from her cup, “If you don’t mind my asking, how’d you wind up with those things anyway?”

“My old teacher bequeathed them to me…after he died.”

“You don’t say,” Belix glanced over at the knife and carefully slid it back under the tray, this seemed to amuse Charlotte.

“I’m not going to give them to you,” she finally stated.

“WHAT?!” Sylvester demanded, throwing down the shards in disgust.

                Both women stared at him judgmentally, and Belix pointed at the mess he had made until he got back to work.

“They’re not mine to give,” Charlotte elaborated, “They bond with their partner you see, and my bond with them was…severed…”

“But you’re still kicking,” Belix observed, “I’m guessing there’s a way to pass that on to someone else.”

“Perceptive…” Charlotte lowered her eyes contemplatively, staring at the table, “I gave them an order, to keep him safe.”

“So, he could just order them to…” Sylvester mentioned as he was soaking up the stain with the end of his cape.

“No,” Charlotte cut him off, “When I say they are bonded, I mean truly, in heart and soul, it’s not a matter of duty or logic,” she watched Sylvester walk back to the table carring a handful of broken glass that he dropped into the silver tray before sitting down, “If he were to give it to you, he would have to feel it, down to his core, Will It, beyond all reason…”

                A tear leaked down Charlotte’s face and she wiped it away, even Belix seemed stunned to silence by the unexpected display.

“I will ask him to go with you,” she muttered to the pair, smiling sadly, “It’ll…do him some good, to get out of the house.

                After a brief stop-off and a change of clothes, Clyde arrived at the mansion just before dinner time.

    His head was still buzzing with the conversation he had with Maggie, before everything had gone to Hell, he wasn’t really certain that they had worked through their problems, and, they still hadn’t, but, he felt like they were making headway. He ran a hand over the wounds on his torso, souvenirs from a recent battle, held together by magic thread and aggravated by the long walk. Seeing the mansion in the distance, he bit down, and marched ahead, ignoring the pain. He opened the door with a spare key, and Charlotte met him in the hall.

“Mon Bebe!” she declared happily, giving him a hug, then glanced over his face, “Ooooh, you’re looking pale, you’re not hurting are you?”

“Nothing I can’t handle…” he responded, the heard the footsteps coming from the kitchen, “Wha…who’s that?”

“Friends…hopefully,” Sylvester mentioned as he walked into view, he held out his hand in greeting, “I don’t believe we’ve met, but my name’s Sylvester Brandon, you already know Belix.”

                He nodded behind him where the Elfin Girl waited, leaning against an archway, she was giving him a curious look.

“Something on my face?” Clyde wondered.

“What the Fuck happened to your eyes?” she responded.

                Charlotte grumbled loudly, but kissed him on the forehead before stepping away.

“Clyde O’Dare,” he responded, shaking Sylvester’s hand.

                He then walked over to Belix who was still leering at him strangely.

“What’s this about?” he demanded, but she just leaned closer, examining the space of his eyes where the whites had turned a luminescent blue.

“Gods that is just fucking weird,” she commented and he rolled his eyes.

“I’ve had an eventful few days since you left,” Clyde snapped, “Now, what is this, what the Hell are you doing in my house?”

                They explained their situation, and Clyde did his best to absorb the information, backing away, he leaned against the other side of the hall as he listened. When it was over, he nodded his head and let out a sigh.

“So…that’s what you meant when you said one of your people had been killed,” Clyde mentioned.

“Not really killed,” Sylvester corrected him, “But, possessed, destroyed? Shattered?”

“Killed,” Belix corrected him, “Poetry’s nice and all, but, at the end of the day, that’s what happened.”

“And you think I can help you?”

“We know…” Sylvester tried to insist only to get cut off.

“We suspect,” Belix spoke over him, “And the only way to test the theory.”

“And walk right into the firing line,” Clyde nodded.

                Belix walked forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke softly, “I wish I could, but I can’t even give you a guarantee that you’ll survive.”

“Or you could just give us the damn spiders and…”

“Shut up!” Belix yelled at him, shaking her head in disgust before turning back to Clyde, “We…have no right to request this of you, and you have no reason to help us,” she backed away, folding her arms, “There is no reward, and you’ve no promise other than our word and our gratitude…please…help us…”

                Clyde kept his silence, thinking it over, then glanced over at Charlotte.

“…we do have our own problems, issues that we need to handle,” he surmised.

“They will keep,” she assured him, “There are lives attached to this…”

“How many?”

“More than just the one,” Charlotte told him softly.

“And Maggie?”

“Who?!” Belix demanded.

“None of your Godsdamned business!” Charlotte snapped, then looked over at Sylvester and sighed, “You’re…I doubt that the dark haired one will accept another delay, he’s been a bit squirrely all afternoon…”

                Clyde nodded his head, staring at the ground, still indecisive.

“It’s what the Silk Merchant would do,” Charlotte whispered to him and he let out a defeated sigh.

“What the Hell is that?”

“I’ll need some time to gather my things,” Clyde spoke over Belix, still staring at the floor, “Prepare for a long trip…”

“So you’re coming?” she asked.

“I don’t really have much of a choice,” he raised his head at last, a weary smirk on his lips, “Do I?”

                Belix nodded, then stepped forward and shook his hand.

“We’re docked at Pier-27, try to be there before midnight, we’ll be waiting for you,” she smiled warmly, “Welcome aboard.”