Chapter Three #2
Saelihn grasped Catseye’s shoulder and squeezed.
“I didn’t want it to come to this. I had hoped, after all this time, you’d come to heal on your own.
Do not mistake my actions for a lack of mourning.
Imri was a beloved cleric and a blessed devotee of Goddess Tiagon.
I loved her like a sister, Sikras. Deeply.
Fiercely. Not a soul in existence deserves the wicked fate she suffered. ”
Rigidity stiffened Catseye’s movements. Whether from Saelihn’s touch or her words was anyone’s guess. He said nothing.
“Four years ago,” the queen continued, “Vessik was an inconvenience. A splinter under Nyllmas’s metaphorical fingernail. But his influence spreads like a slow poison. I’ve given you all the time I’m able, but now I need you to step back up and stand by your kingdom.”
With a faint scowl, Catseye shrugged from the queen’s grasp.
“Saelihn, I’m thirtysomething years old.
I’m tired. A sedated sloth eases into the morning with more swiftness.
Shouldn’t this whole save the kingdom business fall to a plucky teenager with untamed magical prowess and a heart of gold hiding beneath their hormonal aggression? ”
“I assure you, were I able to afford such a person, I’d have employed them. But we are a small kingdom, with small financial provisions. Those who fight for honor are too busy battling bigger wars, and those who fight for pay demand more than what Nyllmas can offer.”
A compulsory smirk lit Catseye’s face. “Then, what makes you think you could afford me?”
The queen’s apologetic aura yielded to grave sincerity. “I know you’ve continued practicing necromancy, resurrecting townsfolks’ loved ones for coin.”
Catseye gasped, a hand on his chest. “Saelihn, I am grievously offended. How dare you accuse me of—”
The queen pulled a water-stained parchment she had tucked into a silk belt and held it out before him.
In fanciful lettering at the top, it read: ‘Death got you down? Let us raise you back up!’ Helspira only caught a brief glimpse of the contents that followed, but it appeared to advertise Catseye’s services as a necromancer to Nyllmas’s townsfolk.
Catseye inspected his cuticles with a casual shrug. “That proves nothing.”
“You signed it. Your wax seal is at the bottom. They’re all over Nyllmas,” the queen retorted with growing irritation.
Ben leaned toward Catseye, cupping a hand near his jaw. “I told you the flyers were a bad idea.”
“Ugh. Fine. Yes, Saelihn, I’ve been dabbling. And honestly, I try to tell the people their loved ones will come back as undead abominations, but—” Catseye paused, cringed, and glimpsed Ben. “No offense, Benjamin.”
“None taken.”
Queen Saelihn closed her eyes. Her brows knitted together, but she kept her chin high as she tucked the parchment away.
“Your permit to profit from profane magics expired four years ago. If you do not lend aid in the fight against Vessik, not only will you be chained in one of Nyllmas’s dungeons as punishment for this violation, you will be fined for each year you failed to pay taxes on those profits.
Your mansion, and everything inside it, will be repossessed by the kingdom and sold, and the tales of Sikras Nikabod, the Glowing Cat’s Eye in Death’s Darkness, will fade from history. Do I make myself clear?”
“I see.” Despite the threat, playful cynicism remained in Catseye’s tone. “And here, I thought we were friends.”
“We are, Sikras. If we weren’t, you’d be going somewhere far crueler than a Nyllmas dungeon. Please know, I am intimately aware of the history you and Vessik share. I know what I ask of you is—”
“Cruel? Heartless? Profoundly detrimental to what little remains of my sanity?”
“Substantial.” Queen Saelihn rounded her shoulders, and while she clearly tried to embody poise, Helspira spied every subtle tick that shed light on her misery.
“It is vile and unfair that it must be you, but you are the only one capable of ending this swiftly. I’ve prayed to Goddess Tiagon every night since Imri’s fall to present us another option, but I’ve found none. ”
A false smile, absent of any amusement, stretched across Catseye’s face. “Either you and Imri put your faith in a piss poor goddess or ole Tiagon is just as hard of hearing as the rest of Siaphara’s deities.”
The queen’s pity vanished, and she bristled. “You may not have shared your wife’s faith, but you know well that it would gut Imri to hear you slander her goddess like that.”
Tension filled the air, undeniable and oppressive. Helspira’s fingers twitched. Instinct compelled her to reach for a weapon on the chance Catseye might snap again, but when he hung his head in a show of submission, her nerves settled.
“My apologies to Goddess Tiagon,” he murmured through clenched teeth. “I know she means a great deal to Imri, and I mean her no disrespect.”
Stillness dissolved the remaining tension, broken shortly by the queen’s soft voice. “Imri’s essence languishes between life and death. Is that not motivation enough to help us in this fight?”
Another groan escaped Catseye, not dramatic and sarcastic like the others but tired, frustrated, overwhelmed.
He paced the room, fingers dragging into his scalp.
“You act as if we haven’t tried. We have.
Twice. We failed, Saelihn. Not slightly, not moderately, but spectacularly.
Catastrophically. I’m down to eight lives, Benjamin is a walking corpse, and Imri is . .. is ...”
The queen inclined her chin. “Say it.”
Catseye froze under Queen Saelihn’s dominating stare.
“Say it,” she repeated. “Imri is ...?”
All traces of the unflappable charmer dissolved, leaving only a man who appeared on the brink of a mental breakdown.
He stared, jaw parted, his eyes seeming to relive some sort of nightmare only he could see, until Ben took a protective step forward and placed himself between the necromancer and the queen.
“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” Ben said firmly, “back off.”
The two challenged one another in a wordless stare down. It lasted only seconds. The queen relented, projecting a gentler mood, as she peered through Ben’s ribcage to find Catseye. “It’s not just my kingdom’s safety I seek. You owe it to yourself to move on and lay your heartache to rest.”
“Do I?” Catseye clapped his hands together. “Well, it’s nice to know you can impose a statute of limitations on my grief but not my outstanding tax debts.”
The queen frowned. “I take no joy in forcing your hand, but I’ve a kingdom to run.
I’ve people to protect. This is a mercy.
The punishment for tax evasion is far less than the punishment for practicing necromancy outside of my favor, but we can forget everything if you simply agree to lend Nyllmas your aid again. ”
“So”—Catseye postured—“aside from downsizing my living quarters from a mansion to a cell, my life will be what, exactly? The same as it is now?”
“It isn’t just your life that hangs in the balance.” Queen Saelihn’s gaze flicked toward Ben.
Catseye slipped his hands to his hips. His fingers dug so deeply into his sides, Helspira spied his nailbeds turning white. “A ballsy bluff, but you’d never hurt Benjamin. You love this city too much to sentence it to the absolute fuckery I’d shower upon it if you did any such thing.”
The accusation birthed a flicker of hurt in the queen’s eyes.
“How dare you. I’d never harm Benjamin. Not physically.
That you’d even imply such a thing is gutting.
Much as you fail to see it, I am still his friend.
Still your friend. But I will see him taken away.
Confined to another cell far from yours.
I will strip his legacy from the history books as well.
No Sentinel Champion Benjamin Reese. Just two lost souls, heavily indebted, who died a purposeless existence. ”
As the threat died away and as whispered incantations moved Catseye’s lips, dark shadows swirled around his feet.
Smog slithered around his legs in coils of black smoke, beads of sweat appearing on his forehead, as he lurched from a snap of magical recoil.
Fists clenched, words rasping, arms shaking, he said, “He gave everything for you and the R.S. You wouldn’t dare—”
“Ahem. Sikras? A moment?” Ben tapped the necromancer’s shoulder.
“It’s just, you’re doing the thing. The creepy thing with the shadow blades and the ominousness, and, if you don’t stop now, all that magical backlash will wreak havoc on that fragile little body of yours.
Let’s take a break, yeah?” Without waiting for an answer, he shoved Catseye toward the door, severing his concentration on whatever spell he was casting.
“Pardon us, Your Majesty. I’m sure we’ll continue this conversation later, but, in the meantime, if you need us, we’ll be in my old quarters. ”
Queen Saelihn hesitated before nodding. “Perhaps that’s for the best.”
“Still down the hallway and to the left?” Ben asked.
“Indeed. The same as the day you left it.”
Ben dipped into a half-assed bow, trails of smoke wafting after them, as he pushed Catseye out of the room. “Good. Great. Swell. Off we go.”
The snap of Catseye’s hands against the door frame kept him in the Grand Hall as he turned, pointing. “Saelihn, listen to me, because what I’m about to say is very important.”
The queen arched a brow as she awaited an elaboration.
Catseye’s eyes narrowed. “Those flyers count as a business expense. Kindly factor that into the equation while your people are tallying my debt.”
“Oh, come on,” Ben muttered, giving him a final shove out the door.
Stricken by the sheer awkwardness of—well, everything—Helspira stood in silence. She tore her focus from the door when the queen’s movement caught her eye.
Collapsing into her throne, Queen Saelihn sighed and sank into the cushioned seat, looking more like a defeated peasant than a graceful noblewoman.