An Unpleasant Gathering

[Lylessa Uluki]

((NPC Post))

Panterras wasn’t around to hear Quinn’s suggestion he come back. He was on a rooftop halfway across Marn, pressing his hands to his bleeding face and coming to terms with this most recent loss. For ten years, ten years of struggle and hardship, the one thing that had sustained him was the possibility that one day he could bring Rollick back around to his side, that together they would form the Council again, and that everything would be just like it had been before. Nothing would ever change. Even as he had watched Rollick marry that fairy woman, father a child, then adopt the two teenagers, Panterras had always imagined that these things could somehow be erased, and they could go back to the way it was. Seeing that wouldn’t be the case, that Rollick was forever lost to him, was worse than a death.

Well, the death would come soon enough. Rollick would not be allowed to live after this travesty, this betrayal. Panterras allowed himself to savour that fantasy for a moment. Yes, Rollick would die, after seeing everyone he loved go before him. That would be sweet justice, and Panterras couldn’t wait to deliver it.

After a short time, he returned to the house where he’d last seen X. He needed to talk to the woman, and he assumed the last thing Uluki and Rollick would expect was for him to come back. They— along with their two goons— would probably have left immediately.

Upon his return, Panterras saw his assumption was correct. X was indeed alone. “They took my child!” he fumed, utterly without preamble. “Did you hear that? They practically admitted it! The gods only know how they’re treating her.” Of course, he knew he hadn’t exactly treated her kindly either, but that was completely different. He was advancing the knowledge of science and magic, so it served a greater purpose. Besides, Kira was his daughter. She belonged to him, and he had the right to do whatever he wanted with her. These people… these interlopers, these kidnappers… did not have that right. “We need to get her back!”

[Quinn]

X was stoic and impassive; a foil to Panterras and, she expecting, somewhat unnerving. She held his gaze cooly for a while.

"What would you have me do?"

Her mind was made up. She would take this as far as she needed to. She thought she saw a good deal about Panterras now - she was fairly sure of how he worked. "Do you really want her back? Of what further use is she? You know the state she was in when she left. Would it not be easier to simply dispose of this little incriminating piece of evidence?" Her tone of voice was that of somebody talking about throwing away an old tool when it had outlived its usefulness.

"I have to be back there tonight or they will get suspicious. Is there any way I can contact you that is more... direct than letter-writing." She was alluding to magic. She wasn't sure if he would want or even be able to communicate with her that way, but it didn't matter. What she wanted was more information about scrying, and his teleporting. Would he be able to see into the compound, or teleport in at an inoppertune moment? This was a scam with a lot of variables to control and she needed more information.

On the other hand she wanted to be away and explaining herself to Uluki and co. as soon as possible, partly to get it out of the way, and partly in order to get things in motion as soon as possible. There was always the chance they wouldn't trust her and Kira would die, but at least she would have tried. That had to count for something.

[Lylessa Uluki]

((NPC Post))

Panterras regarded the woman. The level way she was staring at him was disconcerting, and it made him realize he didn’t know exactly what he wanted. On the one hand, X was absolutely right. Kira was useless, and yes, he remembered her state well. He remembered thinking even before she disappeared how little time he had left before his experiments took their ultimate toll on the girl. Better to simply snuff out the test subject now that she had outlived her purpose— that was what his cold, dispassionate side, the side he would have called scientific, was telling him to do. On the other hand, she was his daughter, his own flesh and blood, and she had betrayed him to his enemies. The small part of him that still had any concern that he was her father wanted her to suffer for her crimes, to have her wickedness repaid. It was a difficult decision.

“You are right, we would do best simply eliminating her. But… she is my daughter, after all.” Panterras looked deeply saddened. “And my daughter needs to be disciplined for her failure to obey me. She must pay for her rebelliousness. No, I don’t want her back; I have no need of her. I want her to die. No quick death, though. No slit throat in her sleep. She doesn’t deserve such a mercy.” It was a mercy Panterras himself might have granted her at the end, had it not been for her disobedience. Now she had forfeited such consideration. “I want her in agony, so she will rue the day she wronged me. I want you to hurt her, and tell her how she brought the pain upon herself. Then she can die.”

There, that was perfect. That would satisfy both sides of his nature, which he had to admit was becoming more and more dual with every passing day. Kira would cause no further trouble, and the wrongs would be avenged.

“Unfortunately there is little I can do that would be of use in contacting you. The bitch…” Panterras realized he should clarify who he meant, given his tendency to refer to Uluki as “bitch” too. “My daughter stole my Scrying focus, so I am unable so much as to observe what is going on. Apparently she is a thief, as well as being ungrateful and a traitor. In any case, that avenue is not open to me. However, you have seen my rather impressive ability to teleport. I could meet you in such a manner, so as not to attract unwelcome attention in transit. We would need only set up a rendezvous point.”

“Can you do that? Can you make my daughter suffer, as she so richly deserves to, and then kill her? If so, you can name your price.”

Panterras was impatient for them both to be on their way. The prospect of Kira’s fate was encouraging, and he had many things to do this night. But first, a warning.

“I am not a man to be trifled with. If you are unwilling or unable to do this, speak now, and I will use some other method. Your hands will be clean. Should you accept, you will carry through. Should you attempt to warn my daughter, or betray me to Rollick and the fairy woman, I will hunt you down wherever you are, and I will repay you tenfold. Is that understood? If you agree, either Kira dies, or you do. What is your decision?”

[Quinn]

Quinn was beginning to get worried when Panterras didn't immediately agree with her - after all, if he wanted Kira physically back, there would be no faking that. When he started on about how she must be disciplined.. well, she couldn't supress a smile beneath her scarf, which she had replaced in X-style. You had to admire somebody who could be that twisted. It was like a messy cart accident, or a marriage breaking up at the top of it's voice in the street - you couldn't walk past, you just had to stare. How to follow that - she contented herself with a nod. Sure, whatever you say. He really was mad...

The scrying focus thing sounded promising. He wouldn't be able to watch - well, she supposed, if he had there would have been no need to hire her - and it reassured her that Kira was still all there, upstairs. No sense putting herself through this for a vegetable, after all.

His warning, however, was sobering. It reminded Quinn of just how much she had already got herself into... but there was no way out, now. She had to finish what she started. And hey, at least she wasn't bored.

On the other hand.. hunt me down? You? Sorry, old man, but you hired me to be a master of subterfuge. Try and hunt me down and I'll walk past you the next day in the street, wish you good morning and you won't recognise me. It was the adrenalin talking, more than anything. Nerves and tiredness and performance buzz. She almost believed it.

"I finish jobs, Lord Panterras." Her voice was low in her throat and carried every ounce of conviction she didn't feel. "You needn't worry on that account."

She paused to let it sink in. "My job will be completed within the week unless there are further complications. I can meet you on the road outside the compound in three days time. My price depends on the difficulty of the job, but I assure you I will let you know. Until then."

[Lylessa Uluki]

((NPC Post))

Once the spy left, Panterras stayed for a moment, pondering what to do next. He had no real reason to doubt the woman. She had managed to preserve his trust, even while Rollick betrayed it. Still, it was quite a task set before her, and he didn’t want her to weasel out or lose her nerve. On the other hand, he didn’t want to put her off, in the very likely event she did fulfill her duties and he wished to call upon her services again in the future. He needed some sort of insurance, without her realizing he had it. How to do that…?

He had an idea, and when he heard the owners of the home putting their key in the lock, he teleported again, not to the next door flat— surely Uluki and Rollick would have searched it by now, and he wouldn’t have gone back anyway, not now that they knew where he lived— but instead to just outside a white stone edifice of a house in the nicest part of the residential area of Marn.

He used the door knocker, which was, like everything in the house, ornate yet tasteful. A servant answered, and Panterras brusquely stated that he had urgent business with Lord Hornwood, and must speak to him at once. The servant had seen Panterras on several occasions before, and so went without question to fetch the man of the house, while Panterras waited in a comfortably furnished drawing room and helped himself to a brandy. After just a moment Alessar Hornword appeared without the servant. Panterras knew that the man always gave his visits priority… as he should.

Lord Hornwood was a man of about forty, with collar-length golden hair that showed no signs of thinning and a figure that had clearly once been Adonis-like, and he had lost none of his strength as he got older, though muscle was now covered with a comfortable layer of fat, making him look bulky overall and soft in various places. His clothes were well-tailored and of the latest fashion, though not overly showy. The man was, Panterras felt, a very common intelligence, showing interest in Panterras’s scientific research and expressing justified admiration, but not grasping the subtleties. Hornwood’s was a trainable mind, a biddable one, but one that would never reach great heights. In other words, a useful one.

Panterras also knew the man’s one goal. Hornwood had power, social influence, obscene amounts of money, and was spoken well of for being a great patron of the arts; no one looking at his life from the outside would consider he lacked anything. Panterras knew, however, that since hearing about the Council, the man’s one great ambition was to be part of that group once Panterras— along with Rollick, of course— re-formed it. Panterras had hinted that this was also his own hope, had made implications that weren’t quite promises, and privately knew that Hornwood would never, ever be Council material. Lord Hornwood was, however, more pliable and helpful when he thought he might achieve his goal, so Panterras allowed him to believe it was within his reach.

Things had changed now, of course. Rollick was out of the picture, Rollick had been so crucial to the whole plan, and Panterras had to admit he could not be a Council of one. Though Panterras was fully capable of ruling alone, it defeated the whole purpose. Perhaps Hornwood would make a Council member after all… if heavily supervised and given only nominal responsibility. The whole fiasco with Rollick had, if anything, taught Panterras not to rely on people who were too strong-minded, because they were likely to go against you. Though nearly as strong of body as Rollick, Hornwood was nowhere close to as strong of mind. In other words, Panterras now saw that the man would be just perfect for the job of ruling at his side. And after the revelations of the evening, Panterras could finally promise him the membership he so coveted, and get something in exchange. Something big.

“How go things with the Council?” Lord Hornwood asked immediately. “Did you meet with Rollick?”

“I did. He has betrayed us.” The “us” was deliberate; Panterras was buttering him up. “It seems he will have to be replaced.”

“Replaced…?” Hornwood sounded absurdly hopeful, though he tried to appear grave.

“Yes. And after long and careful consideration, I feel that you yourself would be the best candidate.”

“Oh, surely not, such a high honour!” Lord Hornwood demurred insincerely.

“An honour you well deserve.” Ten years ago… or five, or even one… Panterras would not have been able to utter such a statement, but now the lie came surprisingly easily. “However, I will require a favour from you in return, as proof of loyalty.”

“Anything, Lord Panterras! Anything!” The man was so eager it was almost embarrassing to watch.

“I need you to reclaim custody of your children.”

“I have no children.” Lord Hornwood suddenly sounded deflated and confused. “I have never even married. I cannot do such a thing.”

“You will claim you have. You will have records made, discreetly of course, that state that in your time spent abroad— which I believe has been considerable— you married my wife’s sister, and that you have two children as a result of that union. Two daughters.”

“Very well, Lord Panterras, but I see no benefit…”

“It is to test the loyalty of a woman employed by the Council, a woman working as a spy. You will attempt to engage her also, asking her to gather information about your missing children for you to use in attempting to regain custody. You will report to me about her behaviour, her loyalty and discretion.”

“And if she has no interest in the employment?”

“I expect nothing more of you than is humanly possible. If she rejects the offer, we will simply think of some other way of checking up on her.”

“What shall we do about these two children she would be attempting to find out about? I suppose we could find a couple of little urchins in the shanty town and dress them up…”

“That won’t be necessary. I already have two girls in mind. I will instruct you on the paperwork you must commission, proving you are the young ladies’ father and legal guardian, and that they have been unjustly taken from you. The law will appear to be on your side. I will give you a story to tell about how this all came to be, how the children were cruelly kidnapped from their loving family, who were at the time still grieving the untimely loss of the girls’ mother; the girls being stolen was tragedy compounded on tragedy. You must pretend your only desire in the world is to bring them back safely, to reclaim them from the child-snatchers who took them from you, so the spy will not realize it is her that you are actually watching.”

“And if it works, and we end up with the children?”

“A secondary concern. Our focus is on proving the spy woman’s loyalty. However, the Council can always use soldiers…”

“Soldiers? I thought we were talking about little girls?”

“No, not small children. Teenagers. And rather unusual ones…”

And so that night the story of Dacia and Izona Hornwood— daughters of Lord Alessar Hornwood and the short-lived (and entirely fictional) Nelilla Hornwood, nieces of Lord Barmitheon and Lady Noemi Panterras, and cousins of Kira Panterras— was concocted.