Chapter 4 #2
Seymour didn’t know how he knew which of them was which.
He had looked at them and the correct name for each had simply popped into his head.
As disconcerting as that was, it was the silence that truly unsettled him.
They were surrounded by dancers, but there was no music.
There wasn’t any sound coming from the dancers at all, no matter how wildly they flailed.
Fuckin’ freaky.
Only Absolis and Vilanos were unaffected by whatever this strange spell was, their jewelry chiming as they beckoned Seymour and Sariel over.
“Ah, Seymour.” Absolis waved. “Please. Come here.”
“We wish to have a better look at you.” Vilanos smiled sweetly. “Mm, handsome one, isn’t he?”
“Very handsome.”
“That jawline.”
“Those lips!”
Seymour might have normally been flattered to be complimented by beautiful men, but something about them made his skin want to crawl right off his bones.
Still, he approached the dais as requested but stayed out of their reach. He bowed his head politely. “Nice to meet y’all. Sorry ’bout almost hittin’ you with my truck.”
The twins laughed.
“How adorable!” Vilanos gushed.
“Such manners!” Absolis agreed. “It’s so cute!”
They laughed again.
“You really are just darling.” Vilanos flicked his hand. “Could we get you something to drink?”
Seymour flinched as one of the dancers was suddenly right beside him, holding a silver tray with an empty glass.
This dancer was a young man with a shock of red hair and delicate clown makeup that highlighted his soulful brown eyes. For a split second, Seymour swore they were solid black, but he must have imagined it.
“Uh, no, but thank you.” Seymour cleared his throat. “If it’s all the same to you—”
“Something to eat?” Vilanos offered. “Our beloved Boozey Boots can whip up anything you’d like.”
Boozey was now on the other side of Seymour with a new tray, this one bearing an empty plate.
“No, I’m good. Full up on cookies.” Seymour patted his stomach. “I appreciate the hospitality. Mighty kind of you. But really, uh, if we could get to business? My understanding is y’all need my help.”
The twins exchanged a bored look, but then smiled at exactly the same time.
God, that was creepy.
“We need someone who has been gifted with the sight of Norbert’s fantastic creations.” Vilanos beckoned Boozey to approach. “The situation is a sensitive one.”
“It always is with family,” Absolis noted.
Boozey’s tray now held two martini glasses filled with a black sparkling liquid. He offered one to each prince and then slinked away to rejoin the other dancers.
“Our king has never married, but he took a consort many years ago,” Absolis explained. “A demigod.”
“A man of bronze.”
“A giant amongst mortals.”
“The one they call Talos.”
Seymour stiffened. “Yeah, about that. I dunno if y’all know or not, but he might be kinda sorta indisposed on account of not havin’ a head. Not sure how much help I’m gonna be.”
The twins cackled.
“He’s so funny,” Vilanos gushed.
“So cute,” agreed Absolis.
“What’s so fuckin’ funny ’bout witnessin’ a murder?” Seymour demanded. “It was not exactly a highlight of my day!”
“Because you didn’t witness a murder.” Absolis chuckled, pausing to sip his drink. “What you saw was one of his conduits being destroyed.”
“A what now?”
“Think of it as a little puppet.”
“Yes, a puppet,” echoed Vilanos. “An extension of himself.”
“He is so busy, you know.” Absolis nodded as if this was obvious. “The balls.”
“The masquerades.”
“Thé dansants.”
“Right.” Seymour cleared his throat. “So, if that’s a puppet, where’s the real him at?”
“His true self is with the king.” Absolis chuckled. “Well, most of him.”
“What do you mean by most of him?” Seymour asked carefully.
“Don’t you see?” Vilanos beamed. “That is what we need your help with.”
“Obviously.” Absolis laughed. “You’ll understand soon.”
“So very soon.”
“His original vessel was in need of repairs, so a piece was entrusted to a powerful witch who still knew how to weave the ancient magic required for such a task.”
“But the witch got himself murdered.”
“And the piece has been stolen.”
“Wait, what piece?” Seymour asked. “We talkin’ like a pinkie toe or what?”
“His head,” the twins replied in unison.
Seymour stared. “So, he lost his head. Again. But this is his real head? Not a puppet head?”
“Yes.”
“But he’s not dead,” Seymour said slowly. “Even without a head.”
“No.”
“But he has no head. Again.”
Absolis sneered. “He is a demigod of incredible power. He hardly needs it.”
“But the king is insisting that we find it immediately,” Vilanos chimed in. “Apparently he prefers his consort with a head.”
“Who knew?”
“You will go to the witch’s residence and track down the thieves who have stolen his head away.” Vilanos leaned back in his throne. “Once it has been returned, we will grant Mr. Heiss his wish.”
“But only then,” Absolis confirmed. “No head, no wish.”
“No wish, no freedom for you.”
“Got it.” Seymour paused. “No, fuck. I don’t got it.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “What does findin’ a magical head have to do with me seein’ those Reliquary ghost guys?”
“So you can speak to the witness,” Vilanos said with a scoff, as if it was obvious.
“What witness?”
“The witch’s familiar.” Absolis rolled his eyes. “He often bragged about owning a spirit who had been caught by the great wizard, Norbert. We tried locating the spirit ourselves, but we were unsuccessful.”
“But you will be able to find him.” Vilanos smiled. “Seeing as how you’re already blessed with that particular gift.”
“You guys all seem real sure this seein’ ghosts thing is transferable.” Seymour crossed his arms. “Like, really sure.”
Absolis and Vilanos grinned at exactly the same time.
“Okay, creepy. So. Go to the witch’s place, find a ghost to talk to, and figure out what happened to the missing head? And then I reckon I just bring it back here?” Seymour glanced between Absolis and Vilanos. “That’s it, right?”
“As long as the task is completed to our king’s satisfaction, of course.” Absolis daintily sipped his drink. “His happiness is paramount.”
“Absolutely,” agreed Vilanos.
“And bringing back his consort’s head will make him happy?” Seymour ventured.
“Before you go, are you sure we can’t offer you a drink?” Vilanos asked ever so sweetly. “A quick snack? Maybe you’d like to dance with us?”
“Perhaps he’s only interested in that other kind of dance,” Absolis teased, reaching for Vilanos and taking his hand.
Seymour didn’t miss how they’d ignored his question, so he asked again, “Hey. Will bringin’ back ol’ boy’s head make your king happy? Or is this gonna be—”
“Oh!” Vilanos laughed, gazing adoringly at Absolis. “Definitely the other kind.”
“Most certainly,” teased Absolis, gazing right back as they continued to cackle.
The twins laughed and laughed, clinking their glasses as if they’d made a hilarious joke.
Well, wait a second—were they actually brothers? Everyone referred to them as twins, but Seymour honestly didn’t know. They gave a weird vibe, especially with the way they laughed and stared at one another, but okay, shit. No. He needed to focus more on what was happening now.
Like Sariel coming around to stand in front of him, his wings out and extended to shield him with a fearless snarl.
Fuck, that was hot.
“He asked you a question,” Sariel barked, his voice deep and rumbling. “I suggest you answer it.”
Vilanos scowled, and his eyes turned solid black.
Absolis was equally annoyed, his gaze darkening as well.
“Watch your tone, angel,” Absolis warned. “You’re in our realm.”
“And soon enough, you will return to the Terrestrial,” Sariel shot back.
Vilanos rolled his eyes. “Do you really think we care about angering your master? Please. He is nothing to us.”
“That may be, but you still agreed to his terms.” Sariel’s wings flapped, and his halo glowed brighter. “Is your word so easily forgotten?”
Vilanos flashed a nasty little smile. “Our word is everything, angel. While we certainly admire that spine of yours—”
“We’ll be just as happy to break it,” finished Absolis.
“Threats?” Sariel tilted his head in that curious way of his. “How interesting.”
“By all means, go on and tell your master all about it,” Vilanos sneered. “We don’t—”
“I will speak to Q. I believe he would be much more interested.” Sariel’s wings twitched again. “Not only in hearing of your idle threats after promising safe passage, but the details of your deal with Mr. Heiss.”
Vilanos and Absolis shared a disgusted pout, both of them holding out their empty glasses for Boozey to refill.
Boozey obliged—that is, both Boozeys did because there were now two of them.
“Fine.” Absolis snorted, his eyes returning to normal. “What was it?”
“Yes.” Vilanos slurped his drink. “The question?”
Seymour peeked over Sariel’s shoulder. “I want to know if bringin’ back the consort’s head is gonna be enough to make your king happy. ’Cause leavin’ it open ended doesn’t sound like fun. After all, it could just go on and on. What if he wants a new puppy? Or the fuckin’ moon?”
“And?” Absolis drawled.
“And that’s bullshit.” Seymour put his hand on Sariel’s wing, gently pushing it down so he could address the twins without anything between them. “I’ll go get the damn head, but that’s it. Our lil’ deal is that. I get the head and you give Mr. Heiss his fuckin’ whatever it is, so I can go home.”
Absolis and Vilanos both gave a thoughtful hum.
“I suppose that can be arranged,” Absolis said at last. “Your bravery is very admirable.”
“So very admirable,” echoed Vilanos. “Enough that yes, we shall agree to your terms. Should you successfully return the head to our king’s consort, we will grant the wish Mr. Heiss has requested of us.”
“But.”
“But.” Vilanos smiled. “You must give us something in return.”
“What?” Seymour blinked.
“A gift of our choosing,” Absolis replied.
“Uh, yeah, no. That sounds real dumb.” Seymour snorted. “You might ask me for my fuckin’ kidney or somethin’.”
“We will ask until you say yes.”