Interlude 6: Graves Matters (2/2)

And in the silence, Graves heard the faint sound of clinking.

He wasn't the only one to look down to the left side of the table, down where Celia sat, her head in her hands, her fiery red hair shaking as the rest of her body shook, and the porcelain parts of her body tapped against each other so lightly and quickly it sounded like grinding ceramic.

“Celia?” he whispered, kneeling before her as the others made space for him to get through. “Are you well?”

“No!” she roared, and he stumbled, put a hand out to catch himself on the table as he almost fell backward.

Her face was out of her hands now, and she was glaring murder, eyes blazing, hair rising around her head like a mane of bloody gristle. “I am NOT all right! They took my BEAR!”

More silence. Celia paced, feet chiming on the wooden floor, shaking her head, punching at the table. “I'm going to get him back,” she announced into the quiet. “That's all there is to it. He did the same for me, I can't do less for him.”

“If the porcelain princess is taken from her kingdom, then all who draw breath within it shall perish,” the dark-haired halven spoke.

“What?” Celia spat.

“That's the prophecy. You're the only porcelain princess in this kingdom. If you leave, a whole lot of people die,” said the halven, tucking curls of black hair back into her headscarf.

Celia looked down. Then up to Graves. He could see the anger in her eyes, no mean trick for the fact that they were glass.

Graves looked back, then tilted his head, considering. Something about that... “I'm assuming it's a prophecy, yes? Some Oracle's business?”

“My business, for I am that Oracle, sir. Chase Berrymore at your service.” She curtseyed, standing on the chair to do so.

“Which god?”

“Excuse me?”

“Which god do you speak for?” Graves asked, leaning on the table.

“Hoon,” she grinned. “See that Winning Smile?”

“I see a young woman who just managed to get our most powerful asset out of the country during a surprise attack by forces unknown,” Graves said.

Chase's grin faded a bit. “What?”

“Don't get me wrong, if you're being honest then we owe you a large debt. But there's the off chance that you and yours are part of some elaborate scheme. We'll have to hold you for a bit until we can examine your story and circumstances a bit more.”

“They're friends of Madeline, Graves,” Garon said. “They helped her get back.”

“Oh, is she here?”

“Ah... no. She should be at Bigstump Outpost.”

“That's where all the others are,” the green-tabarded youth said. “Um... she might be flying back. They were talking about catching a ride on her back when I left.”

“Then we shouldn't have to keep you in isolation long,” Graves nodded to the halvens, the oddly-garbed Wizard, the slick-looking human, and the dog-woman behind them. “You understand our caution.”

“We do,” the slick-looking human said, taking off a hat that looked remarkably like Threadbare's. “We will comply with any measures you deem sufficient.”

“Also,” Graves said, looking back to the still-fuming figure of Celia. “The prophecy says that it happens if she is taken. Does it have the same impact if she leaves of her own accord?”

Silence in the room. Then the clink of porcelain eyelids as Celia looked up at him, the anger in those glass orbs slowly turning to hope.

“I... I don't know,” Chase said. “I can try to wrinkle it out. I can throw the cards, try some other things...”

“She could take it up with the God Squad,” Garon offered. “Ah... after they're cleared.”

“After they're cleared,” Graves nodded. “Karen, can you see if you can find our guests some good rooms in the comfy dungeon?”

“You have a comfy dungeon?” the dog-woman asked.

“Oh it's a sight to be sure!” Karen babbled, happily bouncing up to the beastkin. “Couches so deep you get lost in them!”

“We could do with some sleep,” the blonde halven spoke. “And maybe a few more pastries, and something with meat in it, and some after dinner cordial, and a second dinner or two...”

Once they'd left, Graves glanced around and muttered “Analyze Magic.”

“Eh?” Kayin asked, hopping up to perch on his shoulder.

“Just making sure they didn't leave any magical means of eavesdropping,” he said, looking carefully around the room. “Magical auras on you, Garon, and yourself, sir...”

“Apollyon,” the blonde man clicked his heels together. “Apollyon Henweigh.”

“Of the Easterlynn Henweighs?” Graves raised an eyebrow at Garon.

“I vouch for him. He's been vetted through the guild. List the auras, they're probably our magical items.”

Graves rattled off what he saw, until they were certain there were no unaccounted magical effects in the room. That done, he took a seat at the table, and the others joined him.

“You might be wondering about my caution,” Graves began. “But recent investigations have turned up some troublesome trends. We have a conspiracy working against us.”

“Black wagons and golem kidnappers that don't actually kidnap anyone,” Apollyon muttered.

“You know something?”

“Maybe. I was one of Threadbare's party on the mission out west. We ran into something suspicious.”

“That golem kidnapper... would it happen to be about seven feet tall? Made out of liquid metal?”

“Er... no. Small and wooden.”

“Pity. Because it's looking very much like someone stole a Mercury golem, possibly with inside help. Add that to a few other pieces of suspicious activity we've noticed, and it points to a major problem.” He slid his gaze over to Celia, who was sitting perfectly still, but staring at the door with seemingly-rising frustration.

The other three followed his gaze. Celia finally noticed their look, and glanced back. “What?”

“You said that someone tried to kill you? And the pirates killed them?”

“Yes.” She ran her hand through her scalp. “I mended it the first chance I got. It would have been a nasty hit if I hadn't been running my buffs.”

“I think we're dealing with royalists,” Graves said, shifting his gaze over to Apollyon. “Or someone using that cause to hide what's really going on. This may or may not be involved with the pirates, it's too early to tell. But the fact is that we've got enemies not only outside of our borders, but on the inside as well. And this is going to make handling this entire affair difficult. It might be possible for you to go rescue Threadbare, Celia, but we're going to have to keep things under control on the home front, too. And as one of Cylvania's councilors, you may have to wait a bit before you hit the road with vengeance in mind.”

Celia's mouth twisted.

But she nodded, after a moment. “He'd be upset if I got stupid and our homeland paid for it. But we need to do something. And fast.”

“Do we?” Kayin spoke up. “From what that halven was saying, they think he's you. And you're their objective. So as long as they keep doing that, then he's probably in the safest place in the world he could be, right now...”