InTheHouseOfMyEnemy[continued from Emerging Patterns] Despite her restful sleep, Gillian’s morning had come frightfully early - waking to bird song and Seabhac stroking her shoulder. They spent a few lazy moments snuggling before heading separate ways to clean up. After dressing, they enjoyed a breakfast of exotic fruit and bizarre - yet tasty - cheeses in the garden. This also allowed Gillian the opportunity to spend some time with Molly and Pythia, who were relieved to see her up and about. They parted in excellent company; Pythia providing Gillian with the stack of books she’d requested and a well-met lecture on the dangers of reading forbidden tomes. Apparently, Seabhac loved her enough not to laugh afterwards. It was already mid-afternoon by the time they arrived in Amber - specifically Chateau Lorraine. After some terse negotiations with Yo-Yo, an apartment was arranged for Gillian and Ginger. This appeared to greatly please the head hearth-witch - Jaenelle - who immediately set about making the home presentable to the ‘lady.’ Seabhac left Gillian to her own devices in his grandfather’s library and headed down to the university to inform the faculty of her impending absence. "Oh! Would...would it be possible to arrange to have my schoolwork sent here? And please tell Professor Hobbs not to worry and I'll be back soon! Oh, and if you see any of our new...gang...please let them know I'm here and that I'm all right. Thank you!" Jaenelle hovered at the doorway, unable to contain her exuberance, “Is there anything I might get for you, milady? Tea? Something from the kitchen, perhaps?” Gillian felt uncomfortable being waited on, but she also remembered what it was like to be in Jaenelle's position at House Feldane and how keenly she'd wanted to please those guests who were her responsibility. With that in mind, she replied, "I would love some tea, thank you. And a biscuit or two, if it's not too much trouble." After Jaenelle left, Gillian glanced down at the basket that held Ginger's sleeping form--she refused to let her familiar out of her sight until the cat recovered--and turned back to the pile of books Pythia had given her from the Athenaeum. She started browsing, looking especially for anything regarding Dworkin, contract, Blue Room, Dark Hour, or Suhuy. Tea and biscuits appeared and were refreshed when needed. The morning light brightened to afternoon. But for Gillian, all that matter were the pages laid out before her like an intricate labyrinth of words and thoughts. There were false starts and dead ends. Much of the information far exceeded her education, discussing the nature of Pattern and Shadow and the complex relation between the Unicorn and Serpent. But as she explored this maze of equations and notes, she had a silent guide directing her, catching the bread crumbs she would have otherwise missed. Those crumbs led her back to the Primal Pattern. Drawn from Dworkin’s blood, the Primal Pattern and its creator were irrevocably bound. And all that walked the Primal Pattern - or its reflections - bound themselves to it and to him, in turn. The process of Walking ‘recorded’ the essence of the Walker, creating an artifact of sorts. A fragment of that person. An avatar. A ghost. One that could be summoned, changed, and manipulated, in whatever fashion the Primal Pattern desired. Or however Dworkin desired. <Well, there's what you are. Bob called you 'manifestation' and 'reflection.' And somehow, for some strange, mad reason, stuck you inside my head. We knew this on some level already, but it's good to have details. If you are only a fragment of the personality that was Cybelle, I shudder to think of the power available to you when you were whole> "A little light reading?" Yo-Yo mused from above her. Gillian startled and looked up. Then she frowned. "It's considered good manners to announce your presence, rather than skulking in the rafters. Would you like me to write down the titles of the books I'm reading? Make it easier for you when you report back to Lord Mandor?" The tressym glided down to the table, his tail nearly catching Gillian in the head. “It would be a suitable beginning, Mistress Talbot. He is most inquisitive when it comes to your. . . well-being,” he chimed. “And manners are typically reserved for people of station.” He examined the books and then stared up at her. “You are dangerous. And I do not approve of your presence here.” Gillian's expression turned bland. "I get the impression that there's little you approve of anyway, so I'm not very moved. But I am curious: why do you believe me dangerous?" Yo-yo snorted. “You almost killed yourself and your familiar. That isn’t reason enough?” He began licking his paw, “You are reckless with magic. And you are hungry for knowledge. That is a dangerous combination. Even when faced with the consequences of your actions, you persist with your irresponsible behavior. I care little if you destroy yourself in some arcane mishap, my ward is now in love with you. Why, I do not know. But you distract him. You place him in harm's way when there are a hundred daggers on every side. “And if he dies as a result of your behavior, the consequences will resonate throughout Shadow.” He stared at her with ancient eyes. “What could be more dangerous than that?” Gillian lowered her gaze. "I can't refute what you've said. I...haven't exactly made the wisest decisions lately." Her hand went down to rest on Ginger's fur. She wanted to vow to Seabhac's familiar that she would no longer be so reckless with magic, that she would no longer put Seabhac in danger. That she would be more circumspect with her hunger for arcane knowledge. But she couldn't. Not without boldfaced lying. She looked up. "However, your wishes have been overruled by both Seabhac and Lord Mandor," Gillian continued, "and I answer to them, not to you. I suppose we can continue to throw verbal darts at each other, or we try to find a way to get along." She sighed. "I would prefer the latter. The former is...exhausting after awhile." “And I’ve never been good at darts,” Yo-yo replied. “No thumbs.” His wings fluttered restlessly and then lay down, still staring at her with his scrutinizing eyes. She stared back. “You are correct, though. If the Master has allowed you to live, then I shall abide by his wishes. I still think that he has taken leave of his senses, but who can understand the mind of a Prince of Chaos?” His tail slashed the air from side to side, “In the meantime, I will endeavor to teach you restraint. Just as I taught Emperor Merlin and his son after him. There must be some fragment of self-preservation in that monkey-brain of yours. And what is another hundred grey hairs for the safety of Creation?” Gillian raised her eyebrows. "Were you the Emperor's familiar too? I thought that relationship was for life?" “How very observant of you, Gillian,” he chuckled darkly. “But the answer still eludes you doesn’t it?” For a moment, Yo-Yo’s fur rippled like water, chitinous spikes rising from his flesh. A serpent’s tongue flickered over his needled teeth, a black slit bisecting his green eyes. The effect lasted for only a moment, but Gillian could sense something powerful, some immense and hideous lurking even further below the creature’s outward shell. “I am not a familiar,” he stated. “I am a demon, summoned from the Abyss to serve the royal family.” Gillian blinked. It made some sense, and explained why Seabhac seemed to resent his relationship with the tressym when she found her link with Ginger desirable and comforting, even when the feline was being obnoxious, which was most of the time. She also felt some relief that apparently Seabhac and the tressym didn't share a telepathic bond, considering all that Seabhac had seen over the last few days. "How would you teach me restraint?" “Electro-shock might help,” he quipped. “And it would provide me with some satisfaction.” Gillian's expression was unamused. "Lovely. Apparently we'll continue with the verbal darts." She looked back down at the book she'd been studying. Yo-yo preened his wings, “Firstly, I will assist you in your information searches. Make certain you are not accessing spells and formulae beyond your abilities. Like hell you will, Gillian thought to herself. She turned the page. "Secondly, I will instruct you in the proper control methods and precautions required for the spells you do utilize. She looked back up from her book. "Thirdly, if you do begin losing control, I will dampen your abilities to prevent self-injury or general destruction of property.” He stared at her silently for a moment. His manner left the impression that this was not a negotiation. Gillian narrowed her eyes and let the moment hang. Finally she said, "I'm happy to hear what you have to say, but I would prefer a delivery method that's more theoretical and less...hands-on." She smiled sweetly. Yo-yo sighed, “As in, ‘theoretically’ protect you from death or injury. Yes, I could agree to that. Less risk to my person.” He stretched his wings and with a swift leap was airborne. He drifted lazily over to an open window and landed upon the sill. He stared back at her with a bored expression. “Before you begin tearing the room apart, I would suggest you review the Book of The Sleepless Death. The Pattern is not the only realm where specters reside.” "I will do that," Gillian said levelly. "Thank you." “Do not make me regret it,” he replied. Something outside caught his attention; another heavy sigh escaping him. “You’re friends are here. Do try to not plunge the household into an Hell-pit while I’m tending to the Master, please?” He took wing and disappeared into the sky. Gillian could hear Jaenelle greeting someone at the front door. The voices matched Raina and Temnal. She smiled widely and scooted out of the study toward the front door. [continued in Storm Watchers] |
