RudeAwakenings[continued from Fishing for Sympathy] Temnal’s dreams were incoherent, prismatic, but filled with a sublime tranquility. The Unicorn and Lady and moonlight, all around him, comforting him. Robbing him of the pain. But soon something invasive crept in, choking, crushing, pressing down upon his chest with a furry weight. And fish balls. The invader smelled like curried fish balls. His eyes fluttered open to find a round, orange feline face inches from his nose. "Gahh!" he said, not quite awake enough yet to react coherently. Ginger glanced to the side. “Told you he was sleeping,” she said to Gillian, who sat nearby. Upon her return to the campus, Gillian had found Cole’s apartments empty. Only moments later, she encountered one of his roommates who gladly informed her of the murder. And of a young Chaosian who had lost his arm while summoning a daemon. Or so the story went. The Chaosian in question - Temnal. She’d easily found her way over to the dorm; his door unlocked, Temnal on the bed. And while he still possessed an arm, he did lack a couple of fingers. He slept so soundly, however, that he appeared quite dead. Ginger had volunteered to check. "That whole thing about cats stealing your breath? It's a myth," she assured Temnal as she moved her chair closer. "What in the unicorn's name happened to you?" "Gillian," Temnal identified his visitor with a measure of relief. He summoned up enough energy to lift Ginger off his chest and onto the bed beside him, then sat up. Ginger whined in protest, “Hey! I was comfy.” She flumped down on the bed, sighing. “Try to help people and see what you get?” "For what it's worth, Ginger, I'm glad to see you conscious again," Temnal said to the familiar with a slight smile. "I tried to find Rusalka," he told his comrade. Gillian, he knew, would understand what had happened. "I used a Trump sketch, but that ... backfired." He held up his bandaged hand with a wry expression. "Yeah, I kinda know something about trump sketches backfiring," she grimaced. "I did find her, though. I think she's being held by King Rinaldo. Which is better than what I was afraid of, but..." "Held by King Rinaldo? Why?...Oh." Gillian blinked as she answered her own question. "Rusalka's Other. Coral." Temnal nodded. "Exactly." She put her hand atop Temnal's uninjured one and squeezed it. "Perhaps you should start at the beginning." Temnal lay back and closed his eyes with a sigh. "The beginning. Well, I got a contact from my foster sister Sekhmet, back in Chaos -- Serpent's mercy, was that earlier today? I've lost track. It was after I borrowed those books from you, though. Anyway, she told me that Rinaldo had kidnapped their Wicker Queen and that the Wicker Queen was Rusalka." He opened his eyes and looked at Gillian. "I didn't know what a Wicker Queen was myself until I asked Sekhmet. Apparently it's some kind of human sacrifice to the Logrus." He sighed. "I guess I wasn't thinking straight. I wanted to find Rusalka and bring her back here before ... well, before anything could happen. If I'd kept in mind what Sekhmet actually *said* rather than what I was afraid of, I would have realized that Rusalka was in Kashfa, not in Chaos. But when I got the trump sketch made and contacted her, she seemed ... confused. Drugged. I finally got her to recognize me, but when I reached through..." He held up the injured hand. "Suffice it to say that King Rinaldo apparently knows a lot more about trump traps than I do. At the moment, anyway." Gillian put a hand to her mouth and drew in a breath. "He slammed shut a trump connection and it did physical damage? I didn't know they could do that. I wonder..." She shook her head to clear the train of thought. "I feel like there's a sizeable chunk of Big Picture missing when it comes to Rusalka's situation. How did she become a human sacrifice in Chaos? And wouldn't her family have protested? Tried to stop it?" Temnal frowned. "You'd think so. When I first met her, and talked to her, the way she spoke of them ... they sounded very protective. Though also ... well, you know the type of thing. 'We'll decide your future, young lady, don't you trouble your pretty head.'" Ginger gave Gillian a nasty look, “Don’t you even think of %&$ing around with the Trumps again. Or have you forgotten that you nearly killed us both only a day ago? I know you get all squirmy in the knickers at even the mention of High Magick, but damnit! I’m not losing body parts like Stumpy here." Gillian dismissed Ginger's fears with a wave of her hand. “And as for Pinklet, narf! Frankly, is it wise to get involved with the Serpent’s Marshmallow O’Positivity? Let Rinaldo deal with that hot potato.” Temnal gave Ginger an admonitory look. "This isn't just about our friendship with Rusalka, Ginger. It's about her Other, too. Queen Coral has abilities we might need for our fight against the Shadows. I told Sekhmet she was needed here in Amber, and I think that's true." "Perhaps contacting her during the Dark Hour would prove safer," Gillian mused. "King Rinaldo wouldn't be able to guard her then...at least I don't think a trump trap would be in effect during that time. And she might be more lucid." “How would you tell the difference with her?” Ginger chimed. The cat began to lick its paw with a disgruntled sigh. Gillian gave Ginger a sharp look, which Ginger ignored. She turned back to Temnal. "But even if we managed to kidnap her back, what's to stop King Rinaldo from finding her again? He found her all the way down in Chaos. And if he found her here in Amber, it could cause some sort of political incident. I keep hearing news about how unfriendly Kashfa has been lately, and about how...unstable...King Rinaldo is. "Temnal, do you know how Rusalka came to be the Wicker Queen?" He shook his head, then said, "Though it probably has something to do with her mother's side of the family. She mentioned her mother came from Chaos originally." Ginger lifted her head, “Do you know what House she belonged to? The embassy might know of recent arrivals in the city. ‘Cause I really doubt her mom would one day say, “Oh. By the way. You’re going to be a human s’more in a year’s time without some outside influence. Did you say you're sister knew about this pretty quick?" "I don't. I only know that her father's House is Cardovan. Temnal?" Temnal shook his head. "She never said. As for how 'quickly' Sekhmet knew ... time runs differently in Chaos. It's hard to say." "I can perhaps find the information in the library in the genealogy section," Gillian mused. "I suggest you continue to rest for now. Would you like someone to come get you before midnight and help you to the lab?" "I'm not that much of an invalid. I walked over here from the infirmary," Temnal pointed out. "But someone to make sure I'm awake and that I get there... yes, that would probably be a good idea," he admitted. “I can, if you like,” Ginger smiled. “I can use my famous ‘Butt Alarm.’ It’ll wake the dead.” She waggled her tail. "It's the least I can do... even if I am grievously wounded still." She slumped onto her side and moaned pitifully for effect. Gillian's expression was one of long-suffering. Temnal, privately thinking that it would be better than nothing, said only, "I'd appreciate it." "All right, then," Gillian said, pulling at her skirts. "Ginger will stay with you, and I'll see you in the lab later." She stood and returned her chair to its place against the wall, then turned back to the pair. "Ginger, no lewd suggestions--Temnal needs to rest. Take care, you both." With a smile and a wave, she left. Ginger smiled innocently. Well, a feline facsimile thereof, anyway. “Oh, me and tall, dark, and broody will get along juuuust fine. Don’t you worry.” She turned her gaze to Temnal, “So. Exactly how far can you take that shapechanging-Chaos thingie anyway? 'Cause I can think of some recuperative 'exercises' we can try out.” [continued in We're Gonna Need a Bigger Boat] |
