This choice: Leave the anima band on him • Go Back...Chapter #30One Into Three Without Division by: Seuzz   You've got your doubts as well; the possessed Joe seems awfully eager to take charge. But you'll give him the benefit of the doubt at least until he gives you reason to take it back. So you resist Melody's suggestion that you set another trap. "Besides," you add. "He's got me riding around inside him. He'll know what to look for. But let's get my own double out here, and get Blackwell's mask back on the golem. If things are going to come to a vote, I want to outnumber him."
* * * * *
It's almost three hours before you hear back from Joe, and it's when you hear him calling after the front door has opened. "Yo, me!" He saunters in with a wicked grin.
He's changed clothes, from the button-down shirt and jeans to a t-shirt and shorts. He looks almost sickeningly healthy.
And then the other one comes in. He's half a head taller, with dark hair and eyes, and a watchful expression. If Joe looks healthy, this one seems to have an almost supernatural potency rippling beneath him. "Everyone, this is Frank," Joe says, jerking his head at the newcomer. "Frank, you know everyone here, of course."
"Of course," Frank says with a smile that is sharp but cool. "Prescott," he drawls, sounding amused as he nods at you, Will Prescott, Melody Weiss, and Aubrey Blackwell.
Suddenly, the idea of overpowering these two seems utterly ludicrous.
"Did you get that other, uh--" You nod at Frank. "Onto him?"
"Pfft, you think I'm an incompetent?" Joe snorts. "No fucking way I'd bring Frank here without taming him. So what do you think, Frank? Belly of the beast."
"It's a fucked up scene, Joe," he says with an approving nod. "You should be proud, Prescott," he adds, and relaxes into a chair with the attitude of someone who owns the room. "Not many assholes can claim what you've got."
"And what's that?" Your nerves are prickling hard.
"A tricked out library," Frank says. "A black magician under your thumb. And us for allies."
"And who are you?" you demand.
"I'm Will Prescott, of course," Frank coolly replies. "Pretending to be--" He shoots Joe an amused look, and Joe throws his head back and laughs. "Well, call me Frank Durras."
"I'm Will Prescott too," Joe chortles. "Pretending to be Joe Durras."
"You guys married or something?"
"Don't make me hurt you," Frank says with a mirthless smile. "It would be really weird, considering we're the same person, just in three different bodies. Frank and Joe are brothers. Adoptive brothers, but they grew up together. Partners, but not the way you were asking about in an asshole way."
"Not FBI, either," Joe adds. He throws himself into a handstand on the desk. He walks along to the far edge. "Maybe Blackwell's heard of us, though. Stellae Errantes, prof?" He balances, trembling, then drops back to the floor.
"Stellae?" Blackwell gasps. "Good heavens, Will, if these boys are telling the truth--"
"We always tell the truth," Frank says.
"We also have ways of making other people tell the truth," Joe says.
Blackwell is pale. "Are there any other of your kind in town?" he asks.
"Nope. Lucky for you," Joe says.
"What is the-- The Stella--?" you stutter.
"Stellae Errantes," Joe says. "It means 'Wandering Stars'. The planets, in plain language. Melody's got the wits to understand that much. Don't you, babe?" He snaps playfully at her ear, and she shrieks and dashes to the other side of the room.
"It's an ancient society of magicians," Blackwell says.
"We don't like that word," Frank says. "Blackwell was a magician. We're people with talent."
"And we don't need to read a lot of horseshit in books or fuck around with potions," Joe says. "Oh, don't get me wrong. Reading is good for you, and it saves time. But we're the ones who invented most of it. It's fuckers like you who've been riding around on our coattails," he tells Blackwell in a gloating voice.
You are really not liking this now. These guys may have your anima inside them, but they sound like they're drunk on power, and like they don't have any respect for you.
You also feel like you need to reestablish your control before they take over completely. At the same time, you feel like you can't be too blunt, or they'll squash you. So you aim for a middle course:
"So what does this mean for me?" you ask. "I mean, if I've got you guys under my control now--"
"You hear that, Frank?" Joe laughs. "He's got us under his control!"
"He sounds nervous, Joe," Frank replies with a smile of his own. "As well he should be. But don't shit yourself, dude. We are you, so we'll be treating you as an equal," he adds in what he probably thinks is a tone of generosity.
"That's right," Joe says. "You'll be like our little brother. You are, in a way." He comes over, and you stiffen as he throws his arms loosely around you. "We're you, and you're one of us."
"Because we share the same anima?" you ask.
"And the same kind of essentia," Joe says. He steps back, but clasps your shoulders as he beams. "You're a Stellae too!"
You're not sure what that means, but the sharp hiss from Blackwell suggests that he does. Joe shoots the golem a satirical glance. "That's right, fuck face," he says to Blackwell. "Maybe your original suspected. Too bad he didn't move fast on it." He squeezes your shoulder. "Bro, you're lucky that old bastard was as incompetent as he was. If he'd been even a halfwit, he'd have done to you what he did to Lucy, and then pounded you to dust with a sledgehammer. Guys like him really don't want guys like us around."
"I still don't understand--"
"All in good time, brother o' mine," Joe says. "I really oughta make sure first, but it's already a ninety percent sure thing. Frank, go up and do that thing we were talking about on the way out here. I'll take care of Will."
"What are you--?"
"It's okay," he says, sounding more impatient by the second. "You wanna know about the Stellae? Fastest way is by getting inside my head. Or Frank's. He's gonna copy himself up a mind band. In the meantime, we're gonna have another question and answer session like last night. But without Melody's bullshit getting in the way. Come on, we'll take the living room."
* * * * *
He pushes you onto one end of the sofa, and takes the other end with a big sketch pad. It's a repeat of last night, though with a somewhat different set of questions: some straightforward, and some totally corkscrew. He pays little attention to you as he scribbles furiously at the pad. "It's kind of like a horoscope," he says during a brief break, when you ask him what all this is. "I-- Well, Joe got enough of a sense of things while talking to you last night that he thought it worth pursuing. Oh, that gizmo I had you play with? A kind of essentia detector. It told him that you--well, the person who was looking like Melody--had some special juice." He then returns to the questions.
It takes a couple of hours, and the sun has gone down before he finishes. "All done?" he asks Frank as the latter appears in the doorway. "What a co-inky-dink," he adds as Frank tosses him a mind band. "I just got done too. He's definitely Stellae, Frank. Congratulations, Prescott. There's only about forty of us in the world." Forty? "And he's a rare one, too, Frank. Sulva, Kenandandra."
"Sulva?"
"Yep. Dunno what it'll be good for, but I like being tripled with a Kenandandra. I'll get him set up. You can wait in the car." Frank nods and leaves.
"Frank's memories," Joe says, leaning forward to hand you the band. "His brain's not a tenth as good as mine, but I was kind of busy with you. We'll make a copy of me for you tomorrow, and then the two of us will tear the Libra to little bits and suck it down." He grins.
You take the band gingerly. "Can you prepare me a little for what I'm going to find in here?"
"Sure. I probably should. Frank can be a little intense," Joe says, and settles back on the sofa. "The thing you gotta know about us--and yourself, too--is that we got a different kind of essentia. We're entangled with the planets. Not the actual rocky, gaseous bodies, but their ousiarchs."
"Oh-see--"
"Never mind. They're like intellectual substances. I'd call them 'angels' or 'gods', but you'd get the wrong idea. They haven't got personalities or psychologies. But anyway, being entangled with them, we've got some special properties of our own. Magical fu powers, you might call them. You've got them too. Kenandandra--that's Pluto--that's how come you're so good with sigils and at making up little contraptions. And without training, too. Once we start getting you trained, there's no telling what you'll be able to pull off for us."
"Training? Partners?" Your head is spinning.
"Sure. You're a total newbie. Me and Frank have ten years of training behind us. Follow our lead, do what we say, and after a few years we'll have you up at our level."
"Doing what?"
He gives you a pitying look. "Having fun. And surviving." He sucks on a cheek. "The rest of the Stellae are gonna wanna catch up to us, 'cos they'll think we've gone retrograde. But with the Libra, they're not gonna catch us."
"I still don't--"
"Just put it on, dude," he says, and gently nudges the mind band toward you. "You'll see."  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author