Chapter 17: Deal with the Emperor (Patreon)

***Vresh Tekalis, Veiled Patrician, level 128***

Vresh popped out of thin air and fell flailing into the grass.

A half dozen artifacts, evil or simply too powerful to ever be used, fell from above her directly onto her chest, rolling inward and making themselves at home.

“A little warning next time,” Vresh grumbled to herself as she pushed herself to her feet and fished the artifacts out of her shirt.

After counting them and making sure they were all present, she finally took a moment to take stock of her situation.

She was…back home already. That was certainly faster than she’d been expecting.

She was currently sitting in the well-trimmed lawn of her mansion.

HOT SHOWER!

Maintaining her dignity as the leader of the Tekalis house, Vresh climbed to her feet in a dignified manner, knocked on the door in a genteel way…then completely lost all self-control when her butler opened the door.

“Put these in the vault, make sure to note that they are extremely dangerous,” Vresh said, depositing the armful of items in the man’s hands as she brushed past him, undoing the button holding her shirt closed.

“And somebody heat up water for a SHOWER!” she cried. She had dirt and leaves and sweat and now grass stains all over her body, and she smelled like…

Vresh took a whiff of her shirt and caught a hint of Jebediah’s scent. A small part of her felt like the smell crawled up into her brain and invaded every nerve, spreading dawn into her arms and legs, tingling all the way down her spine and settling in her center...The rest of her wrinkled her nose at the smell of unwashed man, balled up her shirt and tossed it down the balcony as she ascended to her washroom on the second floor.

Her servants were fast, despite her rude entry and demanding a shower with no notice, they were able to accommodate, getting the water flowing before she’d even stepped under the shower.

A few moments of bliss went by before there was a knock on the door.

“This can’t wait?”

“You’re going to want to see this.” She heard the voice of her maid muffled by a few inches of wood.

“Come in,” Vresh said with a shrug. She’d entered the manor rudely and demanded a no-notice shower, so she might as well take her turn being imposed upon.

Besides, her maid had seen it all before.

“Your uncle has begun the process of declaring you dead.”

“Pfft. Is that all?”

“No, it’s fairly obvious you’re not dead, so that should be a stillborn motion. The most pressing problem is your engagement to Jebediah trapper.”

The hot water all over her body exploded into steam, and the water from the shower sizzled and popped off her body.

“My what?”she asked, turning to face her maid.

“Well, based on your behavior in your last meeting, you were aiming to maintain your independence by pretending to be xenophilic.”

“…Right,” Vresh said, her eyes sliding away from her maid’s gaze.

“Well, while Jebediah Trapper was in good standing, this only maintained the status quo. But when this happened, your relationship with him became a liability.”

She held up a wanted poster with Jeb’s dead-eyed, dangerous stare.

Ah, those killer’s eyes. That brow. Mmm.

Sadly the wanted poster did nothing to capture the cleverness his gaze displayed, the quick wit, the reflexive good humor in the face of death. The pale, cold skin, like a crisp winter given human form…

Wait, wanted poster?  Vresh’s eyes darted across the page. Wanted alive for questioning in regards to the outbreak of undead in the capital. No reward for death.

“There’s an outbreak of undead in the capital!?” Vresh demanded.

“Yes, but more importantly, as soon as Mr. Trapper began to have a less-than-sterling reputation, your uncle pushed your relationship with him, at great length, ensuring that the human’s failings reflect on you.”

“Yeah, I get that, but what about the outbreak of undead in the capital!?”

“Oh, well, I hear it’s pretty bad.”

“And what is my uncle doing about it!?” Vresh demanded.

“I just told you. He convinced the rest of your family that you’re engaged to a human.”

“Gods-damnit! Vreh shouted, borrowing a bit of Jeb’s parlance as she strode out of the shower, trailing a plume of steam.

“Mistress, a towel?” She asked.

“I’m already dry,” Vresh said, waving her off. “Get me my undead-fighting clothes.”

Undead were notoriously smelly, and good undead fighting clothes let the decaying goop slide right off.

“Oiled leather or canvas?”

“Leather.”

The undead had a nasty habit of being filled with juicy, rotting flesh, which necessitated raingear for practical reasons. They also had a nasty tendency to bite. A fisherman’s full-body raingear and heavy gloves doubled as undead hunting wear quite nicely.

Vresh chose the leather because it offered a bit more protection…

And it looked better on her.

“And would you like to do about your uncle?”

“What I would liketo do, and what I’m going to do are two very separate things.”

***Jebediah Trapper***

“Unhand me, villain!” the kitri squawked, writhing like an unruly animal in Jeb’s grip. Thankfully Jeb’s Body was still a respectable fifty, which meant the average young man wasn’t going to break his hold.

Jeb squeezed a little at the base of the bird’s spine and he went limp.

Making me chase you all the way through the freakin’ cafeteria. Little bastard. The kitri might not be a fighter, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t slippery. He had some kind of ability that made it harder to catch him with his Myst, and harder for Jeb to catch on to that fact, which amounted to a vaudeville routine where Jeb chased him around to wacky music, destroying school property in the process.

Well, from an outside perspective, I’m sure.

The best way to keep his hands on the kid was to literally keep his hands on the kid.

“You will…be killed…for this,” The kitri said, sluggish from exhaustion and restricted blood flow.

“I doubt it.” Jeb said with a shrug. From a practical perspective, Jeb was probably too valuable to kill out of hand, and while he made an okay scapegoat, the emperor would probably want to pin this on the guy who actually did the crime…probably.

Jeb was a little leery of politics, which often made lying more expedient than the truth.

“We’re gonna go talk to the emperor about that bomb you told Smartass to place. You know, the one that lowered the magical defenses and unleashed the undead on Mestikos?”

“I-I had nothing to do with that!” he shouted, still looking straight down at the dirt as they hauled him out of the massive building.

“Smartass mentioned your sister by name, Ipiyaki.” Piwaki pointed out.

“Shit. Um-you would trust the word of a duplicitous fairy over that of your own people!?” Ipiyaki’s bluster faltered for a moment before it returned in force, just as Jeb caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

A skeletal keegan jumped out of the window of the building above them, digging huge gouges into the pristine grass as he hit the ground and rolled forward, losing none of his momentum.

Above him, an orange skinned melas girl rode a shimmering rope down to the surface before gently landing on the ground.

Piwaki’s friends.

“Featherbrain, you’re alive!” the keegan said, swiftly engulfing Piwaki in a hug that seemed to make the kitri highly uncomfortable as he struggled to escape the boney grasp.

“Kolusk, if you could just –“

“All right,” Kolusk said, releasing him and patting the shorter Kitri on the head. “So where’s the adventure, what are we doin?”

A moment later the girl arrived, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry. He’s an idiot.”

“We’re gonna turn this guy in to the emperor,” Jeb said, holding up the kitri in his grip. “Then probably undead hunting as a form of community service, and maybe rescuing a baby.”

“Sweet.” Kolusk nodded enthusiastically. “So, what’d you do, Ipiyaki?”

“I didn’t doanything!” The captive bird shouted.

“Then you should be fine.” Jelesh shrugged “Emperor’s got the best mind-readers in the whole country.

“Fuck.”

***Iyaki Pukuwa, Damsel level 23***

Iyaki waited with bated breath as her brother was marched in front of the emperor in Udium manacles with powerful Myst suppressing attachments, so large they nearly covered the young man’s hands.

As for why she was present at her own brother’s hearing…well, Pikaku wasn’t letting her out of his sight for obvious reasons.

At least I got some of what I wanted, she thought sourly. Thank the gods I at least try to keep in shape. It was supposed to attract the emperor’s attention solely to her, but if she’d been as old and fat as the other damsels, Kiwipa would have picked someone else to run away.

And that would’ve been the death of her.

Damned spies and their damned incomplete information. If she’d known that the old emperor was undead she wouldn’t have freed him. The plan was to reinstall the old emperor with her as the lead harem member.

If she knew, she would have simply blackmailed the emperor a little in exchange for a bit of extra power within the group. Nothing so wildly crazy as this.

Surviving the former emperor had been far too much of a narrow thing.

But…halfway to warning pikaku, she realized that if she were just a little bit slow to deliver the news of his father’s escape, she could be the only harem member.

So she loitered for a minute or two.

In the end it made no difference whether she hurried or not, because the emperor had felt the loss of his harem’s Favor, and immediately knew something was wrong. He’d been long gone by the time she arrived at his vault. Clever Kiwipa.

Iyaki’s gaze landed on the chubby human baby in the center of the compromised vault.

Even now, my stupid boy protects the wrong investment, that demigod he’s been raising in secret rather than the pillars of the empire. He believes I would go after the shiny new toy he’s bragged of rather than his foundation.

Demigod. Shiny new toy.

The kitri empire was founded by men who seized opportunities when they saw them. Why should Iyaki be any different?

Owing to the emergency, the burst open door, and the emperor’s sudden flight, the royal guard had been just rattled enough for her to distract him and steal the baby.

The entire time she rushed down the halls with a wailing child in her arms, if she was stopped, she would claim to be ‘escorting the child to safety’, and that would become the ‘truth’.

But by some miracle, she’d managed to use the chaos to steal the emperor’s demigod out from under his nose. It had been, and continued to be, incredibly risky, but if everything played out correctly she’d be the matriarch of a new empire.

“Ipiyaki Pukuwa.”

The emperor called her brother’s name, his voice cold and hard like a knife to the throat.

This was noteverything playing out correctly.

The emperor’s golden throne had tiny curls of gold raising from beneath his claws digging into the armrest.

“My seers, shamans, mindreaders and advisors all agree. You fucked up. You conspired to commit treason, poorly, I might add, which is insulting enough in light of it’s marginal success. But you also lied on your selective service papers. It says here that your Myst core creates a slippery substance that allows you to squeeze through small openings.”

Her brother maintained his silence.

“That’s clearly not the case, as upon closer examination, you seem to have cultivated a Myst core modeled after Kiwifui’s Unbinding Myst, out of some misguided youthful rebellion. A Myst core that is strongly discouraged, I might add.”

“But I digress. We were talking about treason.” Pikaku said, rising from his seat, his talons pulling out of the soft gold with a light ‘ping’.

“We know whatyou did. We know why you did it.” Pikaku said as he stepped down from the throne. “But something that seers and mindreaders fail to grasp is emotion. I want to know how it felt to send your home into utter chaos. I want to know how it felt to throw away your country and your allegiance to it based on faulty guesses and assumption.”

Her brother, the idiot, glanced at her. She’d subtly led him to believe that the harem was mistreated. Not in any way that could be traced back to her. Just a subtle hint from a friend here and there. And the stupid boy had gone off on a crusade, like she’d known he would.

Now she just needed him to not drag her down with him.

“It felt like justice was being done. It only reinforced my surety that you are unworthy of bearing your father’s title when you decided to hide in here like a coward instead of –”

Goodbye brother. You were my favorite pawn.

Pikaku snarled and rammed his claws through the prisoner’s chest, surprising nobody but the two in the center of the room.

“Noooo!” Iyaki cried, if only to maintain the illusion of a caring sister.

Her brother’s eyes were wide with disbelief, while Pikaku had a sour disappointment in his posture. He left the corpse where it lay, returning to his throne and rubbed his beak with his clean hand while imperial guards removed the body.

“You monster!” Iyaki said, taking a carefully weighed risk. Her brother had just been killed for insulting the emperor, but she was far more valuable, and wasn’t already awaiting execution. Evincing an emotional reaction to the death of her brother was necessary to avoid suspicion, even if it provoked a bit of the emperor’s ire.

“Be silent,” Pikaku said, turning his neck to cast a bloodshot glance at her. “Do not think I overlooked the traitor’s relationship to you, the only survivor of this debacle. I’ve not gone daft. When this is over, you will undergo a nightmarish level of scrutiny.”

Iyaki straightened her spine, her heart fluttering wildly. “It will find me blameless,” She lied, projecting confidence.

“That remains to be seen,” Pikaku said, before glancing back at the puddle of blood in the center of the room, slumping back in his throne.

“I just failed many of the lessons my father taught me about leadership,” he said to no one in particular.

“Send in Trapper.”

***Jeb***

Here we are in prison again. Jeb thought to himself, staring at the heavy stone ceiling. It was fantastic to say the least that looking up at the ceiling only caused the tiniest amount of discomfort, rather than a slowly building panic attack.

Of course, they had arrested Jeb immediately upon him turning the kid in. That was expected. The collar and udium manacles were within reason as well…they just made certain things difficult.

It was the most over-the-top cell Jeb had ever been in, almost closer to a vault than a jail cell for people, with ten-inch thick walls – measured at the doorframe – a heavy duty vault-like door on bigass hinges, and airholes the size of a man’s pinky.

The funny thing is, it was actually quite nice on the inside, almost like a penthouse. Which made sense, because when you’re arresting people who can tear apart steel with their bare hands, they’re:

A: Probably nobility

B: less likely to attempt escape if they’re luxuriously comfortable.

If only these damn things weren’t on my hands! Jeb groused internally, staring at the grapes placed in the center of the room.

The heavy metal door opened softly, obviously well-greased, or magical.

“You’re up,” the imperial guard said as he opened the thick metal door.

“Can I go to the bathroom first?” Jeb asked, nodding down at the massive hunks of metal around his hands. Between those and the collar deadening his Myst, he lacked the dexterity to use the little toilet in the cell.

The guard gave him a glassy, humorless stare.

“Fine.”

Jeb followed the guard down the winding hall until he was once again in front of the emperor. This audience room seemed more cozy than the other one. It was only the size a modern suburban house, rather than a baseball field.

The emperor sat on a throne seemingly made of gold, slumped over in a way that spoke volumes about how tired the man was. His arm was bloody up to the elbow, and the ground sported a rather large puddle of blood along with some streak marks where a body had been dragged away.

That doesn’t bode well, does it?

Jeb carefully stepped around the puddle, raising his gaze to meet that of the emperor.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m hiding in my castle like a coward.”

Jeb shrugged. It had occurred to him, but he knew better than to call the emperor a coward. Jeb was only a little suicidal at the moment. His PTSD was starting to fade, after all.

“leave us.” He said to the guards.

They hesitated for only a moment before obeying his commands. The kitri woman standing next to him made to leave.

“Not you.” He said, pointing at her without looking.

Once everyone was gone, and it was just the three of them, Pikaku leveled with him.

“My father turned nearly a dozen Damsels and escaped.”

“I don’t know what the implications of that are.” Jeb said with a shrug.

“I am level three hundred and eighty three.” Pikaku said. “With twelve Damsels granting me their Favor, it was effectively four thousand seven hundred and seventy seven.”

“Damn.”

“They’re undead now. With my father. Somewhere in the city or beyond. I don’t know if they still have the ability to grant their favor or some profaned version of it. If they have even a fraction of the power they used to, they can make my father strong enough to snuff me out like a candle.”

“Only in the seat of my family’s power, where layer upon layer of Myst, Impact, and Fate intersect, would I stand a chance against him.”

Pikaku cocked his head, studying Jeb. “I’ve issued a general summons for Enforcers to clear the city of the infestation.

“That sounds like reapers will take that as an opportunity to misbehave,” Jeb said. people who killed other people just for the copious amounts of Impact were a blight on society. Sapient creatures were easily worth many times the Impact, even if they were physically weaker.

“That they will.” Pikaku sighed. “And many Enforcers are likely not to answer the summons. Undead hunting is dangerous, dirty work, those that arrive will either be idealistic, or opportunistic, looking for fast hunting in a chaotic environment where misbehavior will go overlooked. If one of these opportunistic Enforcers learns of my enervated state, they may feel it worth the risk to attempt to kill me.”

“Not to sound arrogant, but I’m worth quite a bit of Impact.”

“No, I get it,” Jeb said, nodding.

“I’d like to thank you for keeping my nephew alive, but you also had a hand in these events, however unintentional, so I can’t simply send you on your way.”

Here it comes…Jeb thought.

“So I’d like to make a Deal with you. I understand that your power is bound to your word?”

“That’s right,” Jeb said, nodding.

“Destroy my father’s remains and those of the twelve missing damsels, freeing them from the curse of undeath. Clean up this mess we both had a hand in. Clean it up good. If you do this, I will grant you the full support of the kitri empire for a specific request, ten thousand gold marks, or lands and a title of your choosing.

“In addition to forgetting about my involvement?” Jeb asked.

“Of course. As far as the public will be concerned, the two of us are blameless.” He nodded toward the puddle of blood. “The Pukuwa family unleashed the undead as part of a coup attempt. That will be the ‘truth’.”

The brown-feathered kitri woman standing beside the emperor gave a strangled gasp that was quickly choked off.

Hmm…can’t really use the money or the land for myself, since I’m dying. The emperor knows that. So either I’ll will it to another person, or I’ll take the ‘full support’ and apply it towards my bomb condition.

So basically he’s trying to pay me with something he was going to give me anyway before this shit show happened, except with a nasty price tag attached to it. Also there’s a loophole that if one of them dies, but I didn’t kill them, he doesn’t have to pay me.

“Let’s work on the wording a little,” Jeb said.

“I’ll put my honest best effort towards the task, and when all of the targets are destroyed, I get my choice of rewards, assuming I’m still alive. If I am not, set aside the money in a trust for my orphanage.”

“The way you phrased it would see me paying ten thousand marks if you explode the moment you leave my presence.”

“The way I see it, the chances of that are slim.” Jeb said.

The bird-man gave Jeb a long stare, the scales weighing in his mind.

“Those terms are acceptable,” Pikaku said.

“Before we make a Deal of it,” Jeb continued. “I have to ask. Where is Casey the third?”

The emperor seemed to slump even further into his chair, his long neck bowed.

“I don’t know.”

“So not dead?”

“Presumably not.” Pikaku sighed and scratched the feathers of his neck. “There was no evidence of her being killed. It seems some opportunistic scab took her during the confusion of the attack…or my father took her. I’m not sure.”

“What would an undead want with a baby?”

“That’s a very special baby,” Pikaku said. “But I’ll speak no more on the subject. Do we have a Deal?”

Somebody needs to get the Caseys a Lo-jack. Jeb thought sourly.

“Deal.” Jeb said.

Click!