Sylvester & Tuette: Cursed Doubt

Chapter Nine

He had placed great trust into Puze. It was true that the servant was bound by situation to the count but he didn’t have to obey. He could be released from each cage with Roost’s permission and return with nothing to show for it.


The little creature had even returned with the unique but wholly inconvenient plant one floor below, smashing his glass-mesh cage in the process. Roost had been forced to slightly modify the Curse that Puze was under to insure that anything brought back with him was outside of the unique cages. Puze, of course, had to also revert outside of them in those circumstances and it was extremely difficult to capture a being so small but it was worth it to be able to instantly transport items and even humans to Castle Tigra Lei. Fortunately and unfortunately, he couldn’t instantly send the objects or persons back if he wanted to.


In his current state, the latter was the case as Puze had just brought with him a lei cat, which the castle was partially named after. The irony was not lost on the count.


Sporadically striped in places, the lei cat had a strip of white, tall-standing hair that ran down its spine, ending in a semi-prehensile tail. The paws were massive and he knew they sheathed thin but deadly claws, five on each paw. The mouth was abnormally wide and the cat was as long as Roost was tall, minus the tail, but he still felt like he was handling the situation just fine.


I always enjoy standing on top of my workbenches whenever I get the chance! He had VoiRen bikes on each forearm, extended for maximum effect and with the first few slashes, the count had made the large cat learn a small dose of respect for the weapons. Now the lei cat was on the opposite side of the room, pacing back and forth, sniffing about. Puze hovered indifferently close by, laughing at the situation he had produced for the count. The night wind whipped in through the window behind Roost, making him remember how lightly dressed he was.


“Puze, you buzzed bastard, help me or I’ll…”


“You-u-u weel whay-at? You-u-u die-why, I live-ee. I-I ween. All-l ween!” He then laughed some more and Roost felt like smacking the nuisance out of the air. He swung one of the pikes towards Puze, striking the creature with pure luck. But the only thing the action achieved was Puze dying and reappearing inside the cage at Roost’s own feet. The only reason the VoiRen didn’t travel with the problematic pest was most likely because he had no firm purchase on it; being slammed in the head tended to break a person’s focus.


The creature continued to laugh though, much to Count Roost’s distaste.


Where was Botch? Count Roost didn’t know. Did the boy not hear the large cat’s screeching meows? Was he even in the castle? Roost found himself both hoping the boy would appear at the door in order to distract the cat but declined against such wishing as the boy was working out wonderfully as a servant. Hate to lose him so soon.


The cat finally stopped pacing, as if coming to a decision. It backed itself in between a thick desk and tall bookcase and positioned itself as if about to pounce. “It’s about time,” muttered the count. With a blood freezing shriek, the cat leaped. Roost collapsed with sheer will, heaping himself against the table and then he rolled forward, onto the floor. Surprisingly, the gambit worked. The lei cat, a creature that was widely known to throw full weight at its prey, had glided over Roost and landed on the workbench. While it was attempting to turn itself for a second strike, Roost moved himself under the bench and pushed up with his shoulder blades against the underside of the worktable, his arms extended backwards like a bird.


With the physical effort, he felt his face contort with more than just strain; he felt like he was losing his bodily composure. Like the effort might be undoing him.


Despite the sensation, Count Roost presumed to lift mightily anyway. The bench finally began to tip to one side as Roost had been lifting beneath the side furthest away from the window. He felt the weight above suddenly shift as the cat, confused about where its prey had disappeared to, suddenly braced itself upon this moving piece of furniture.


With a moaning grunt of energy, Roost finally heaved the workbench, cat and all, against the window. The cat was fighting though and it finally found purchase with the edge of the table and made a leap towards the center of the room.


The table was furthered towards tipping with the cat’s pushing movement and it finally collapsed against the wall with a crash of Puze’s cage heard very clearly. Roost heard the glass shards clatter lightly and delicately, like icicles dropping onto a frozen pond.


Then the beastly cat roared with fierceness, sending drool all about while its head thrashed in pain and anger. Roost rolled himself to the side, looked back, and saw what the lei cat was angry about: its tail had been pinned between the short end of the upturned workbench and the stone wall. This was the chance the count knew he would never obtain again.


With panicked clumsiness, he repositioned his VoiRens and, while the cat realized its prey had moved, he punched forward, coinciding with the cat leaping towards him in spite of the injured tail.


They met wholly with Roost’s VoiRens entering the cats maw of a mouth. One pike went straight through the throat and was encased by the warm body. The other penetrated the brain and stopped the deadly feline cold, protruding through to hug against the cat’s furry back.


Green and variously gray tufts of lost fur seemed to be snowing down on the combatants as if afraid to descend while the fighting commenced. His breathing was coming in shallow gasps now and he felt like his heart was going to pound its way out of his chest.


He withdrew the VoiRens, deftly setting them against the wooden bookcase to properly condense them. Roost stood and heard Puze still laughing. Looking around, Roost saw the little fiend in another cage atop the bookcase. He had assumed Puze might survive the overturning of the workbench. It didn’t matter either way as it was a necessary action to save himself.


The audacity of the little Cursed creature amazed the count. What a fighting spirit!


“I’m guessing that with this stunt,” the count began, “you mean to slay me and not attempt to follow my own orders?”


Puze didn’t answer but had finally ceased his laughter. Roost looked down at the ferocious cat. He knew the beast was native to the Seagulf Island chain, which meant the bothersome Puze had not even attempted to cross over the shallow depths that gave way to the inviting mainland of the kingdom. The creature had probably landed on the lei cat and merely waited until death was set to overcome. Again, Roost couldn’t help but subtly appreciate the nerve of the Cursed animal. He had never attempted such a feat before except with the curious plant below but Roost assumed that was merely to break his first cage.


Thought of the plant made the count’s mind drift over the unusualness of the organism. It had been present for a handful of weeks already but, despite Roost’s orders to keep it sparsely watered, the thing had sprouted additional roots and stems and aimed to extend its current ones towards the windows. The count assumed the plant was trying to soak up as much sunlight as it could. And it wasn’t like it was away from its native soil as some of that had transferred with Puze as well. Perhaps Botch had taken a sympathetic feeling for it and was watering it more than Roost had desired. He would address the issue later.


Presently, he had a dead lei cat to get rid of. Mentally, he went over the various useful properties of the cat’s anatomy. The fur, striped as it was, could be used in a decent Concealment Pote. The blood was known to be Potent in various ales. The tail was considered a trophy to some. The gently hollow teeth would make fine transference ports for Artificials. Yes, Roost would try his best to make the best use out of the situation.


As for Puze, the count had to come up with a different tactic. He knew he couldn’t modify the Curse with further constituents as that might tease the health of the Curse and eventually shatter it, freeing the ill-deserving servant.


But Charms are another matter.


He needed Puze to plant a specialized Artificial or, if that failed, to at least create a Re-Seeing Stone near one of the locations that the king would be sleeping for a night. He knew the crown had to be experiencing a certain dread terror over taking on such a task as to stop Roost himself and the count knew that people who were scared tended to be people who made mistakes.


His mind ticked then to think back on his childhood, when he was upon the stage in front of the crowd, choking and crying and still trying to sing. He’d been very afraid then.


With a will, he put the memory away with hopes that it would stay localized in his personal hollow of nightmare realms where such unpleasant recollections were supposed to reside.


Hollow. Localized.


Roost had an idea and he peered knowingly at Puze as he had a significant solution to Puze’s dissention. Grabbing a paperweight shaped like a snail, Roost bent down and looked into the face of the dead lei cat. He was mentally preparing himself for defense as the feline could easily be sleeping or pretending to be dead. Such an irrational fear for penetration of the brain is always a surefire means of execution. Except in the rare case of Demons. “But you’re no Demon,” he said subtly and with a hint of smirk as he wasn’t exactly sure who he was talking about at this point.


Roost opened the mouthy maw and smashed at the base of the largest tooth with the stone snail. He couldn’t hope for a clean break but little blood from the damaged gums was released and the count had his tooth.


“Whay-at eeees you-o dune?” asked Puze as Roost left the room, unwilling to answer and silently wishing that Puze knew how to better enunciate his language.


He went to his bedchamber and retrieved the tome from his bureau. The room was tidier than usual which suggested to Roost that Botch had been present earlier and was now more than likely at home with his impoverished father. This meant he knew he couldn’t be angry with the lad as the count had never said that Botch had to live on grounds; the village-to-castle hike was minimal at best.


With delicate hands, Roost thumbed through the scripts, feeling a certain power wash through him as the full Potency of the volume always seemed to surprise him further. He was looking into Artificials but he needed a way for one to be planted whether Puze wanted to do it or not. He also needed the pest to follow orders rather than flying off and attempting to bring lethal animals back with him. If only he was precon Cursed. Then he wouldn’t believe that my death would save him…


The count paused. Yes! He couldn’t alter the Curse to act as if it was cast before Puze was conceived but could make Puze think that he was precon Cursed! He, like many, had to know that the death of the caster did not save a precon Cursed individual. It’ll be easy enough. Pre-conception Cursing is cast before one’s birth. And Puze was born… well, before long before his current lifetime. However I have to spin this, he’ll end up believing it. And the lei cat tooth he owned would make the perfect vessel for an Artificial. Roost knew he would just have to craft it here and then charm Puze so that when he was within proximity of the king, the Artificial would be planted. The quest had to be convincing, otherwise the king wouldn’t seek to personally encounter Roost. The count knew the king was only looking to generate the silly forest of chickens but with his life being put into direct danger by Roost, that almost guaranteed a showdown of some sort.


After locating the proper scripts, Roost studied them briefly before leaving the bedchamber and going to talk to Puze. He knew he would have to keep the nature of the Artificial a secret because Puze wouldn’t go along with it. But if he could convince the beast that he was precon Cursed and that he alone was the only person who could deliver such an important message to the king, then that would all but insure that Roost would be free and clear of any dangers purported by the beast.


Roost couldn’t simply die, could not let himself expire. I’m not impervious to harm or Immortal or whatever the ilk but I have to insure that Voidet dies first. And with a restful spirit. Only the Godblade would do that by providing little more than sentimental comfort. Fashioned by the ancestors of Voidet centuries ago, around the time when the Talking Trees had stopped working and Magik had been suspended, the Godblade represented the finest craftsmanship that could ever exist in a weapon. It symbolized power and harnessed so much more.


Count Roost had never set eyes upon it, partially believing it to be a myth or possibly even destroyed long ago. But it was rumored to be resistant to damage while doling out harm and it was the only thing that Voidet had requested before death, meaning the count had decided to procure it promptly. In exchange for what I truly desire.


It had been a journey that threatened to take him around the world, even to the fatalistic lands of Gor Pyron. The blade was supposed to reside there in the hands of a ruler that Roost had never met in person. He knew that in return for the awesome blade, the leader demanded only one thing: the kingstone.


Therefore, Roost was willing to do whatever it took to get it.


Even if it meant slaying the crown.