394. Of secrets, resistance and a little of futility

Cassandra Pendragon

"I'm not very partial to torture but if you keep this up, I won't have much of a choice," I lamented, my curled up fists on my hips. "I can't read your mind and I can't just let you go." It was a damned conundrum. "And you probably don't even understand a word I say." I sighed. Somehow those creatures were part of a hive mind but yet retained quite a bit of self awareness, almost like an evolved swarm. A marvellous trait for sure but it made my life all the more difficult.

The information I was after couldn't be pulled from their minds since it was stored elsewhere, I couldn't order them to spill the beans because that would overwrite their own will, which they needed to access the living archives, presumably stored miles underneath the sea, and I couldn't even trick them, considering they had never learned our language, relying on ancient memories to make up for their shortcomings. As it stood I could only try to force them to tell me what I wanted to know of their own, more or less, free will and the only thing I could come up with was making their existence unpleasant enough that they'd rather deal with the possible fallout. 

An option I wasn't really enamoured with. Necessity was one thing but cruelly cutting into a living, breathing creature wasn't very high up on my to do list. Don't get me wrong, I probably wouldn't suffer any sleepless nights over it, but I really didn't want to stoop that low. Watching Alassara do it had been bad enough. Killing was one thing but hurting, humiliating… maiming another creature for my own gains wasn't in my nature. It never had been. Sure, when his anger had gotten the better of him Lucifer had sometimes prolonged the suffering of his victims out of sheer spite and I had done the same, once or twice, but it had always been a punishment, not a means to an end.

I narrowed my eyes and took a step closer to the darkened wall where our four prisoners were dangling from short ropes like cured hams smelling of fish and rancid seaweeds, nicely bundled up and ready to be processed. They hadn't held up too well, their scaly skin had begun to crack, they were bruised all over in magnificent purple hues, and the one we had kept conscious was staring at me blearily, his yellow eyes dulled and dry. If we couldn't find out what was wrong with them this whole endeavour would come to an end pretty soon. That was why I had sent Mordred and Reia to fetch a barrel of saltwater. Dunking them a few times might at least solve that particular problem. On the other hand, if they didn't care whether they dried out or downright suffocated there probably wouldn't be much of a point in sticking sharpened instruments into their various orifices. How the hell had they been able to infiltrate Indigorath's crew? Had they simply spent half their days in the baths?

"I can break him easily enough," Shassa rasped behind me, venomous saliva dripping from her pincers. "Just say the word. If he has a nervous system, I'll have him sing like a bird in no time."

"Don't I know it," I mumbled with a shudder as the shadow of a dark altar and the spider's black statue appeared before my inner eye. "But no. We have," I turned around, my gaze roaming over the flamboyant group, "an Arachne, a kitsune turned dragon, a golden dragoness, a half transcendent vixen and an immortal in one room and we have to resort to beating the truth out of him? That's just pathetic." As if to emphasise my words the captured fish struggled limply.

"Pathetic or not, we have to do something," my mom replied. "And asking nicely hasn't worked very well. If the two guards they attacked hadn't survived, the Purple Worm would have turned them into sushi already. Lucky for them Aglaia actually knows how to heal properly." I cocked an eyebrow but didn't comment. Sushi? Where had she picked that one up?

"I've never had seafood before," Indigorath rumbled from the corner. "But we could give it a try…"

"You can save the intimidation for someone who actually understands you," I shot back. "This one doesn't. Not unless he plays along. Which he won't. Goddamn it." There were always options. For instance I could simply reach out and touch his soul, threatening to pull it from his living body. That'd most likely ensure his cooperation and make me sick to my stomach. Had I done it before? Sure, as recently as when I had burned the Ironhands' home to the ground, not to mention the Mask or the Furglows back on Boseiju, but it had always been a consequence of what they had done and this miserable, hapless sack of scales and bones was just a solider. He didn't deserve putting his eternal life up as collateral for aspirations that weren't his own. No, I might have to hurt him somewhere down the line but I wasn't going to touch his soul. And neither was the spider.

"Honestly," I continued, "I'm at a loss. Look at them. They're hurting, they're dying, and yet they don't even bother listening to us. Goddamn swarm conscience. Ants, the lot of them. The good of the many always outweighs the good of the few. Horseshit." As you might have been able to tell, I was frustrated, even though I meant no disrespect to the late Leonard Nimoy. "Fine, any suggestions aside from slow roasting them over an open fire?"

"What's wrong with that," Sera interjected. "We could at least try. Dragon fire has a tendency to loosen tongues. Or turn them into ash, depending on the answers." Sometimes I almost forgot that kitsune weren't that different from dragons. We were more… refined, socialised, with a fondness for art and beauty but we were still predators. When it came down to it a fox would gnaw off its own leg to escape a trap. Never mind the limbs of a stranger. No wonder none of them could understand my hesitancy. Maybe they would in a few hundred years.

Halting, insecure steps, accompanied by the smell of winter ivy, approached the massive door and my ears perked up just before Arthur, heavily leaning on Aglaia, entered the brig. I tensed but when our eyes met he only shrugged shrewdly without a hint of grievance in his gaze. We were good and neither one of us wished to relive our dispute. 

"I might have an idea," he began as he hugged our mother, his voice still weak. "Aglaia has brought me up to speed. If the stick doesn't yield the desired results why not try the carrot? If the goal is making him want to talk, potions will work much better than magic." He eyed me from the side, clearly wrestling with a thought, before he added with a smirk: "unless you could be persuaded to use your womanly wiles. They might not be of a related species but they look similar enough…" I deflated. Yeah, contrite he definitely wasn't but I still managed a smile, quite glad that I had found the time to exchange my borrowed and torn bedsheet for actual clothing.

"A pity I can't beat your humour into shape." I walked closer slowly. "Are you alright?" Instead of a reply he let go of our mother and hugged me.

"A minor headache but I'll live. I'd rather not revisit that particular topic, though, but I can hardly complain, can I? Did you really die in that tomb?" Silence descended, heavy enough to literally weigh on my shoulders. Right. He had seen it all from my perspective and I had never bothered sharing that little tidbit with anyone but Viyara and Ahri. Not that I had had much of a choice in the matter.

"You… what," my mom spluttered from somewhere behind him but I could only shrug.

"I didn't die, it was only uncomfortably close. And it never happened in the first place. It's just a memory I wouldn't even have if I was anyone else. Thanks, brother. I'll assume you're still a bit out of it and didn't do it on purpose." He grinned.

"Assume all you want but I did do it on purpose. Call it payback. If I have to know, so does she. Also, next time you're acting out I can still threaten you with telling Reia. She'd never again let you out of her sight again." Oh boy, couldn't he have slept for a few weeks longer?

Before my mom could process what she had heard I quickly said: "you know as well as I that I won't turn myself into an enticing bribe. Even if there'd be a chance for it to work. Potions? Care to elaborate?" He gently disentangled himself from me and explained:

"You've felt Shassa's poison, haven't you? Before you lost consciousness you couldn't even muster the willpower to cleanse your body. That's suppression but some drugs can also alter your state of mind entirely. You've been drunk before, haven't you? Not to mention what's possible when you introduce a few magical components to the mix."

"And how would you know," I asked sceptically.

"I'm not a bad alchemist myself, but I've mostly been forced to study the effects and tastes of potions and how to identify the correct antidote. I can't very well have someone else govern my people through me, can I? Our magic allows us to feel when we're being enchanted but there's nothing easier than slipping a few drops of a solution into a glass of wine. I wanted to make sure I wouldn't become enthralled by anyone with a heavy purse and the possibilities of what tinctures can accomplish are practically endless. I've always thought it would most likely turn out to be a colossal waste of time but now it comes in handy." He massaged the bridge of his nose in a gesture that was awfully familiar. I did the exact same thing when I had to organise my thoughts.

"What you need is something similar to a strong aphrodisiac. It doesn't nullify the will of a person but makes them more susceptible to suggestions, dampens their inhibitions. So far so good, unfortunately I'm not entirely sure if your captives will react the same way as… land dwellers. It wouldn't matter much with a magical concoction but the mundane ones have varying effects on different species. A minor stimulant to us could be deadly to humans and vice versa."

"So you actually have nothing and simply wanted to show off," Mordred griped from the door, his foul mood easily explained by the heavy barrel his was arduously logging along the corridor while Reia followed close behind, her mouth drawn into a sly grin, her tails wagging.

"I didn't say that," Arthur hissed. He didn't even bother with turning around as he flipped his brother off. "But there's a risk and if I get it wrong they might snuff it on the spot." His gaze travelled over each of us before he added: "can I count on any of you to help out?" I shook my head, the gesture immediately spreading through our group. It wasn't much of a surprise. As talented as they all were when it came to magic there had never been a reason to study the arts of an alchemist. The same held true for me. Why learn how to brew a potion when you can simply wish for the effect to happen? I had a few general ideas on how chemistry and alchemy worked and where they differed, but that was about it. There was Zuma, though…

"Great," Arthur commented. "Who doesn't like a challenge? I think I can brew something up that'll make them want to respond to questions but it could also… explode their hearts or turn their brains into mush. Maybe."

"Oh my, aren't you confident," I teased sarcastically. No need to mention the alchemist turned herbalist, just yet. Or Erya who had offered to teach Estrella, or… I just wanted to see if my dear brother had come off his high horse and would actually think about our non kitsune friends. "Whatever could go wrong? Honestly, I don't see much of a difference between force feeding a potentially lethal drug and poking with sharpened sticks. The latter even seems safer."

"But most likely won't accomplish anything," Sera mused. "They are in severe pain. Look at them. But yet, they don't care. Do we even know if they feel pain like we do?"

"Every living thing does," I stated. "Otherwise it couldn't survive." With a grunt Mordred pushed past Arthur and deposited his burden close to our prisoners. Sighing he rubbed his shoulder:

"You should threaten them with becoming your errant boys. They'll cave immediately. Are we seriously considering this?"

"Don't you trust me, brother mine," Arthur mocked.

"Honestly? No, even though we might get there. I never liked your attitude but that your first steps after waking up carried you here instead of to your wife goes a long way. Who knows, once I've seen you bleed for our people instead of lamenting their fate and the cruelty of the world I might take you seriously. And that little bonk on the head you got while sailing here doesn't count. Until then," he pointed at the floor, "down there are all the alchemists you could ever need. Some of them probably much more capable than you, milord." I opened my mouth in a silent exclamation, the astonishment on my mom's face a perfect mirror image of my own thoughts. Who the hell was this guy and what had he done to my brother? Since when did he care about… well, honour? He had never been too big on leading or even bleeding by example but apparently what once had been wasn't set in stone anymore.

"You can close your mouth again, Cassy," he continued. "I'm not suddenly going to sprout wings… or a crown. Or do you have an issue with something I've said?"

"Me? Goodness gracious, not at all. If anything I can only applaud your candour."

"Perfect," Arthur snarked, "now I'm the odd one out." Which, of course, promoted my mom to hiss:

"That's on you, son. If you hadn't…" To my own surprise I was the one to come to his aid:

"The score's been settled. Let it rest. For now we know what to do, don't we? Mother and Mordred will help Indigorath and Aglaia settle in, if only for a while, Arthur can ask Greta to find someone who can assist him, maybe she can even provide the answers on the spot, and Sera and Shassa are going to work on that memory. Do you need me for anything else? Otherwise I'll leave. The sooner I go the sooner I can try to establish a gateway between the Emerald Island and our home and the sooner I can return."

"Arthur's colony," Viyara reminded me. "Don't forget what…"

"I haven't. I still need to talk to my mom privately. I haven't forgotten the invitation I owe the Burning Court, either. She'll have to take care of it. I'll ask her to figure something out. I don't want my brothers to know, just yet. We can't allow Arthur to run off. It'd tear him apart if he even considered the possibility. I'm not that cruel."

"You're honestly going to leave," Sera blurted out. "I thought… isn't what's happening here more important? Cassandra…" she paused, clearly hesitating to put her thoughts into words but when I cocked an eyebrow she continued in a rush: "have you truly thought about, I mean thoroughly gnawed on what those fish men might mean? They're… their race seems surprisingly well suited to foil your powers, doesn't it? And then… have you forgotten the little fact that all the cubs Arthur was forced to bury were your age? Considering everything you have hinted at concerning your other family, is there even the slightest possibility that this is the work of another immortal? There is already one on this world, determined to… manipulate you. Couldn't there be more?" It had been Ahri's first suspicion. Either another obstacle set up by Amazeroth himself or he had lost control. Hardly imaginable, unless there was another transcendent force at play.

"Even if there are, it wouldn't matter," I explained quietly. "If one of my kin is hiding beneath the waves we can only pray that they won't deem it necessary to ascend to the surface. I… even with Ahri by my side we couldn't hope to overcome an immortal. Run and hide, maybe, but Gaya would be at their mercy. We can only pretend that it's something else. Otherwise all we can do is wait and pray. I'd rather not hide like a child in a sandcastle when the tide rises."