"Some so-called 'experts' might say that it is a fool's errand to try to use dragons and lots of chains to move Albion away from the continent. Well, the Albionese people have had enough of experts! We'll take back sovereignty, and the lack of trade with those greedy Gallians means that we'll have at least three hundred and fifty pounds a month more to spend on curing the Red Plague. And only someone working for foreign powers would ask too many details about how we're going to accomplish this – but trust me, it will be both quick and easy!"
–
The Lord Protector, Oliver Cromwell
...
The somewhat battered ship was covered with a new black coat of paint, and positioned in front of a stone arch that swirled with malevolent red energy. Lightning arced around the gateway.
"Now remember, Cattleya, I left you a note," Louise said, pausing on the gangway. "It tells you everything you need to do."
Cattleya huffed. "I know, I know, you've only gone over it quite enough already."
"You need to keep up raiding patrols against tax gatherers," Louise said, ignoring her, "hunt down more goblins to turn into minions, maintain the defences of my fortress, answer calls from Magdalene, and Catt, most importantly?"
"Yes?"
"Feed my cat." Louise bent down and scratched the white cat who was twining around her legs. "Sorry, Pallas, sweety, but mummy is on a working trip this time. It's only going to be for a week or two, and she needs you to stay behind with Aunty Cattleya."
"Mraaaaaaaaaw," protested Pallas, hissing at Cattleya.
"Don't take that attitude with me, Pallas!"
"Mraw."
"That's better."
"Yo, Lou!" Jessica called across from the deck. "Hurry up! The hellgate is nearly charged!"
Louise stepped forwards, and gave Cattleya a hug. She didn't respond, but she didn't step back. She was just cold and still. "Look, it'll be good for us to have a little time apart," she said, trying to be the metaphorically bigger woman. "You can calm down and have some time to get back to a normal routine over your snit, we won't be getting on each other's nerves, and we can try to start again when I get back. Does that sound fine?"
Cattleya patted her on the shoulder. "Very well."
Resisting a sigh, Louise kissed her sister on the cheek, then stepped onto the ship as the minions pulled the gangplank up and prepared for the temporary trip through the Abyss.
"I can't help but feel that this is a bad idea," she said to Jessica.
"I know, right? With me here, I can use my diplomatic rights to get us into the fast lane. We'll just boomph up north of Albion, and bypass their navy entirely." Jessica grinned. "Plus, that elf-girl is one of Izah'belya's clients. I've got free samples for her. Ha! I'll show that bitch!"
"That's not what I…" Louise began, but Jessica had already jogged off to check the large black rock covered in glowing red sigils that had been roughly jammed through the deck, splintering the wood. Instead, she looked over at Henrietta, who was wearing her new armour and leaning over the side, staring into space.
"It looks good on you," she observed. The basic design was similar to Louise's, but as part of the compromise needed to get her to wear it the helmet was a full-face skull, there were numerous skulls engraved into the lines of the black-painted steel, and the less said about the corset worn in place of a surcoat, the better. It was a nice corset, at least if you liked black and bones, but Louise personally would have preferred to see her in just the armour. Or just the corset.
"I'm still getting used to the weight," Henrietta admitted, her voice slightly muffled. She pushed the visor up. "And I really don't like this. It's like I'm looking out at the world through two tiny windows."
"You know we can't risk people finding out who you are."
"Yes, but…" Henrietta left the sentence hanging.
"Oi, you two! You better get down below! And sit down! Passing through a hellgate takes some people strangely, and both of you are in full armour. I don't want to have to drag you off the deck if you pass out!"
Louise nodded. "We better get going," she said, taking Henrietta's hand. There might have been two layers of demon-forged steel between their flesh, but Louise still felt pleasantly warm and tingly.
"Yes, we should," Henrietta agreed. "The sooner we get there, the sooner I can avenge my poor innocent beloved!"
"... yes. That," Louise agreed, swallowing. She tried to to ignore the yawning feeling in her stomach. Hopefully it was just a sign that hellish travel didn't suit her.
...
As it happened, Louise was totally unaffected by the passage through the hellgate. On the other hand, Henrietta was violently ill.
"Oh dark gods what happened in here!" Jessica asked when she came to check, holding her nose. "It's like someone pumped pea soup through a hose!"
Henrietta just groaned faintly. Louise winced. "Thank you for that… imaginative description, Jessica." She was going to be seeing
that in her nightmares for a week.
"It's what I'm here for! Well, as well as everything else." Jessica took a step back. "Lou, you gotta go handle the docks. A patrol boat saw us and they're guiding us in. You… um, probably should change too."
Louise nodded. Her armour had protected her from splashing, but she wasn't exactly presentable. Also, it probably wasn't a good idea to show up as the Overlady of the North. "Good idea. I'll have some minions clean this up. It's not like they can make things smell
worse, after all. And I'll ask them for directions."
Dressed in one of the fashionable-yet-comfortable gowns she had brought with her and wearing a black wig, Louise went up onto deck. The sails were a little scorched and the disguised minions were busy shovelling ash and embers off the deck.
Albion filled the horizon. The floating island was wreathed in mists from the waterfalls that poured off its edge, forming clouds which clung to the underside. Louise had heard that there were hidden things in the eternally clouded lower face; dragon nests and manticore caves and goblin tribes that had never seen the sun. From their elevation she could see down onto the tiny green fields and smoky towns. The island was relatively low right now, but it rose and sank by the phases of the moons. Albion was also known as the White Island, but Louise couldn't see any trace of its famed chalk cliffs. The stone up here was grey and boring. Perhaps the white cliffs were a southern thing.
Without conscious thought, the things she had seen in the past forced themselves into her awareness. Albion hadn't looked like this peaceful isle. The underside had been covered in dragon eyries and cannons; strange magical artefacts had spat out dark spells down on the armies below. It had been the mobile oppression fortress of the First Overlord.
Her gauntlet pulsed warmly in her hand. Yes, Louise thought darkly. The gauntlet could recognise it. It knew it was coming home.
...
"Anything you want t'declare, lass?"
Louise considered the answer. Within her ship's hold, she had a large number of minions, a princess who was conversant in the dark arts of necromancy, and another princess, this time of Hell. Who was also an incubus. Oh, and of course, her armour which would give away that she was an overlady. All things considered, therefore, Louise gave the only answer she could honestly.
"No."
It wasn't like she was lying, she thought to herself as her badly disguised minion sailors stomped around on deck, carrying crates which were also full of minions. She just wasn't being honest in any meaningful sense save the technical.
"Right then, so you got t'inspection fee and then you'll just need to fly this flag to make sure t'patrols know you paid your dues." He handed a folded piece of red and blue cloth. "That'll be ten shillings."
Louise paid, just glad that he hadn't tried to inspect the boat. If he had, he'd have been brutally murdered by minions who would then have stolen all his clothing and the oak baton he had at his hip.
Seagulls called, their mournful cries echoing through the morning. The air was thinner up here than she was used to, and a mist still clung to the buildings. Still, from what she could see, this was not a happy place. The few stone buildings were mouldy and their thatch was rotten. Painted slogans stacked layer on layer desecrated their sides. The wooden structures huddling around the docks were ramshackle things that she would have put minions in. A few scattered peasants lounged around, eating the famous Albionese dish; seagull and turnips. The smell of the fat nearly turned her stomach and the vinegar was acrid enough that she could smell it from here. It was famous because only the Albionese would eat it.
"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to this place?" Her gesture took in the widespread misery and suffering; the weeping children, the hard-faced women, the beaten-down men. "Was it the Civil War?"
"But of course," the customs agent said. "Things are better than they've been in donkey's years thanks to t'war, lass. We're a one-horse town again! We could buy a replacement for Ol' Bess!"
"Well, of cou-" She blinked. Better? "... then what happened?"
"At, 'twere the Iron Lady herself, very vicious force of darkness, never liked us here oop north. 'Twas her who stole all the milk from our children's mouths wit' her vile magics. She shut down all t'mines, saying we were delving too deep and too greedily. She ruled oop here for a decade, and only were overthrown when she put a tax on everyone's heads, with confiscation as t'penalty if you didn't pay. Also, she were a lich. That's pretty bad too. When someone smashed her phylactery, I ain't ashamed to say we all sang and danced in the streets, singing 'Di-'"
"Fascinating," said Louise, who didn't care. "If you don't mind asking, my cargo needs to be delivered to Shire Wood. Do you know exactly where it is? My maps are coastal ones. They don't cover the interior."
The inspector backed away, making the Brimiric sword with his fingers. "You don't want to be going near t'Shire Wood. It's an evil place! Full of elves and walking trees and lil' ghosts who want to kill any human they see! There's a whole network of caves where ancient monsters used to live and they're double-haunted!"
"Well, obviously it's not in the Shire Wood," Louise lied, making it up as she went, "but it's the nearest big landmark."
He wiped his brow. "Thank the Lord. Now, as as for maps, come wit' me. Mister Haywood oop near t'port sells maps along with other books."
...
With a proper map, progress was swift and the winds were favourable overland.
"Overlady! Spooky forest up ahead!" Char called out from atop the creaking windship, peering down a telescope he had strapped onto his musket.
Much as Louise hated to agree with anything a minion said, he wasn't exactly wrong. The Shire Wood stretched out ahead of them. The trees were a particularly sullen dark green, and patches of dead leafless vegetation and barren ground lay here and there. Tooth-like protrusions of rock rose up from the woods, breaking up the landscape. Louise shook her head. If she wasn't very mistaken, the ground itself had been torn up here and there by terrible magics. When your mother took you to her old battlegrounds, you learned to recognise the marks.
"No sounds," Henrietta said softly, still somewhat pale and wobbly in the legs. Crows and ravens cawed in the branches. "Apart from those dratted birds, I mean. But listen. There's nothing in the undergrowth." She wrapped her mantle around her dark steel armour more tightly. "My love mentioned the Shire Wood once. He said it was a cursed place, tainted by an ancient sin."
A chuckle sounded from the Gauntlet, and Louise sighed. "Ah, your wickedness," Gnarl said, appearing as a flickering blue image. "I see you've reached the Shire Wood. I remember how this used to be in the olden days. Disgusting. It was horrible bucolic farmland, filled with fat little creatures that ate seven meals a day and generally had an incredibly easy life. It was so peaceful and so fertile that they could spend half of every day sitting around smoking various drugs. Urgh. Just thinking of it makes my skin crawl."
"Was it you who committed the ancient sin, Gnarl?" Louise asked immediately.
"No, your maliciousness, sadly not."
"Don't lie to me, Gnarl!"
"Oh Dark One, would I do that?" Yes, Louise thought. "I wish that we had, truly. Those half-sized race were incredibly fat and stupid and fond of turnips. And pipeweed and poppies, of course. But it was the humans here who declared war on them, having grown tired of the narcostate within their borders that dominated the illegal drug and pie trade. So they set fire to the fields, hoping to suppress the trade in pharmaceuticals.
"That was," Gnarl grinned wider, "a mistake. The narcotic clouds caused a lethal overdose for all who breathed them in. And that was the end of the halflings, more or less. Along with everything for twenty miles downwind. Ah, what a marvellously malevolent day that was!"
There was an awkward silence on deck.
"What an awesome way to go," Jessica breathed.
"What a stupid way, you mean," Louise said primly.
"Oh yeah, that too. Fucking dumb. But hilariously awesome."
Henrietta cleared her throat, examining the map. "I believe, Louise-Francoise, we should set down in that clearing next to the oversized skull-shaped rock."
"Are you sure?" Jessica asked.
"Well, we did arrange to meet them in Skull Glade. How many giant skull-shaped rocks can there be in this forest?"
...
"Six," Louise said, with a weary sigh. The sun crept down towards the western horizon. The creaking of the mast and sails marked their descent. "There are six giant skull-shaped rocks in this forest. I can't believe I had to stop and ask for directions. From a talking raven, no less."
"I'm just glad the raven knew where we had to go," Henrietta said, leaning on her staff. She wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. "It's getting cold up here."
"At least you're feeling better," Louise said, shuffling up to her princess. "I didn't think you'd react like that."
"I don't like hellgate travel, Louise-Francoise," Henrietta admitted, with a rueful grin. She was still rather pale and shaky. "I… I think I'd prefer for us to sail home the normal way."
Louise took her hand. "That might not be possible," she said seriously.
"I know. I… I really hope we can avoid it, though." She swallowed. "I probably shouldn't eat for a day beforehand."
"Oi! Overlady!" Maggat yelled from the front. "Brace for landing!"
"Doesn't he mean 'prepare'?" Jessica said nervously.
"No, sadly not," Louise said, pulling Henrietta with her away from the edge. "Hold on, ladies."
They landed. It was a short sentence, but a busy one; full of meaning, happening, Minionish hollering, and some small screams from Jessica and Henrietta.
"A fine landing," Louise said, adjusting her helmet and blowing away a lock of hair. "A little easier on the anchor next time, I think."
"Yep, boss!"
"And try to get a few fewer minions falling overboard."
"Scyl are off to go bring them back from the dead place," Maggat reported. There was a Scyl-ish scream. "Oh, whoops, no, now we are needing to bring Scyl back."
Over from the direction of the scream were black-clad figures. They were also scantily-clad figures, despite the growing cold. Their ears menaced pointedly. They had bows out and drawn, and the way they held them was about the only professional thing about or around the elves.
The immediate reaction from the minions was to cluster around the overlady and her associates, weapons aggressively brandished.
"It are the dark elves!"
"Why are they no wearing hats? What is we gonna loot from them now?"
"I dunno, I think I are gonna be a sex icon in those fishnets!"
With horror oozing through her brain, Louise couldn't help but confirm that Fettid had been the one who had said it. Her brain, traitor that it was, conjured up a mental image of that. Then she threw up in her mouth.
Fortunately, Henrietta didn't have a mind prone to treachery – or possibly hadn't heard it – and so stepped forwards. "Dark greetings to you, shadow-traitor-kin of the elves!" she said, raising a hand in salutation.
One of the dark elves stepped forwards. They were probably male, but it was hard to tell given their unhealthy thinness, long silken locks, and disproportionate amounts of eyeshadow. "All hail the shadow! Down with the empires of man! Return all to the primordial state of chaos!"
Jessica groaned. "Don't encourage them," she muttered.
Henrietta paid her no attention. "I am Anne, called by some the Blackskull, the Voice of the Steel Maiden! We come bearing dark tidings, here to meet with your dark queen for the sake of evil deeds! Stare upon the malevolent visage of the overlady who will crush the lords of Tristain!"
Louise, whose eyes were watering and who really wanted a glass of water to clean out her mouth, swallowed and nodded. She hoped that she looked like a dark and menacing force of Evil. The elves, at least seemed to be convinced.
"We accept your dark tidings and bring our own! For the shadow is dark and long, and—"
"Okay, okay, Apostrophe," Jessica said sharply. "Stop it with the dark greetings. We need to park the ship and I've had a long and hard day, so… chill."
"All hail to the crown princess of the Incubi!" the titular Apostrophe proclaimed. "Truly the forces of the Abyss are with us in this dark venture, for—"
"Look, just cut me some slack and take us to where we need to go, all right?" Jessica sighed. "I have a headache, and I just want to sit down."
Apostrophe scowled. "If you insist, dark one. Uh… Emerald, call off the children and their ambush," he said to one of his companions. "I shall convey them before our dark queen Malevola."
Louise frowned. "Wasn't her name Tiffania?" she whispered to Jessica.
"These are dark elves," Jessica said wearily. "Their hearts are in the wrong place." She looked over at them. "But speaking as the daughter of the Incubus Prince, they're just super embarrassing to be around. Lilly is sort of damp and pathetic, but Apostrophe just takes things way too far in his desire to be down with the denizens of the Pit." She paused. "Honestly, I'm pretty sure it's cultural appropriation."
...
Given the general environs of the forest and the attitude of the elves, the actual wicked lair of the dark elven queen Tiffania was remarkably homey. Yes, she was occupying an abandoned ancient castle, but rather than dwelling in the looming age-worn citadel within the walls there were a number of small houses which had seemingly been shaped from the ground itself. There was the sound of children's voices everywhere.
"Elven craft," Jessica said softly when she realised where Louise was looking. "They're good at coaxing nature to do things for them."
Louise nodded. Elven magic involved calling upon spirits. Probably evil spirits, given what elves were like, and these were dark elves so their spirits were likely doubly evil. She ran her gauntleted hand over the trees growing within the ancient walls. The smells of leaf mould and wet soil were there, under the wood smoke and the cooking food.
"Halt! Who goes there!" demanded a freckled girl with bright red hair who was waiting by the entrance. One hand rested on her belted on-sword, which was too long for her. The sheath dragged in the ground. She looked to be about twelve or so from her features, though she was tall for her age. Perhaps it was something to do with her accent, which was peculiar even by the standards of the Albionese.
"It's just our visitors," the elf Apostrophe said.
That just made her eyes narrow further, and she slid the top centimetre of her blade out of its sheath. It gleamed blood red in the late afternoon sun. "Well, I have a wee problem with letting them in in. Those are goblins!"
"No we ain't," Maggat objected. "We is minions."
"Goblins is a de-gen-er-ate form of minion," Maxy agreed. "We ain't calling you damn dirty apes, is we?"
"You want to die? 'Cause I'll cut you."
"I died before," Maggat said, with a shrug. "We come back. Humies don't."
Louise felt that she really had to step in before the minions killed an unfairly tall small child. "Maggat, stand down. Out of our way, little girl."
"Who're you calling little?" the girl demanded, squaring up to Louise. Her very blue eyes were on a level with Louise's. "Who's this bairn trying to tell me what to do?"
Louise clamped her mouth shut.
"Hannah," Apostrophe said with a sigh, "that's the Steel Maiden."
"Back from the dead?!" she demanded, knuckles whitening around her sword.
"No! Steel, not iron!" he said before she could draw. "And maiden, not lady! She's Tristainian! Don't kill her! She's the overlady come to talk to Malevola, Hannah!"
"Tifa, not Malevola," Hannah said automatically. She glared at Louise. "Are you sure she's not some wee bairn dressing up? She's shorter than me!"
As one, the minions inhaled. "Ooooo," one of them went.
The blush was coming. No, wait, Louise realised through the haze that had descended from her vision, it was already here. And on the note of aforementioned haze, she wasn't sure if it was anger-red or humiliation-pink. "I am n-not shorter than you!" she snapped.
"Uh, yes, you are. You're wearing heels and you're still my height," this incredibly cruel and malevolent child insisted.
Louise spluttered, lost for words. Henrietta reached out, and squeezed her hand in hers. "Stay calm," she breathed. "Listen to me. She's just a brat."
And it was probably for the best that at that point a melodramatic chorus of elven voices rose up, singing ethereal songs about pain, suffering, and never-healing afflictions.
Hannah whirled. "Oh, Founder!" she snapped, brandishing her sheathed sword in their direction. "Shut up! Shut up, just… we told you about those stupid songs whenever Tifa shows up and… Tifa, Tifa, they're singing the songs again!" she called out.
"Well, I know they are, Hannah, but they like doing it," said the newcomer who was approaching the entrance. She was only a little taller than Louise, with a round face and long blonde hair. She wore a warm woollen shawl over a hard-wearing and practical dress.
Now, other people would have assumed it was a servant and there would have been all kinds of unproductive misunderstandings, but Louise had made sure to find a drawing of the queen of the Dark Elves and verify with Henrietta that yes, this was what she looked like. As a result, she could focus on putting this
insubordinate brat out of mind. "Your majesty," she said, voice only trembling a bit with mortified rage. She was in the presence of – evil, elven – royalty and she could not allow her to shame herself.
"Um… oh, right, yes, me," Tiffania said loudly. She smiled. "You're the overlady? And, oh, yes, Anne! So good to see you again!"
Henrietta curtseyed gracefully, skull-themed jewellery clinking. "You're too kind," she said, raising her voice.
"Oh, no, please don't be so formal," Tiffania protested, nearly shouting. "I get enough of that from my kinselves and… Doomblood Deathtide,
please stop singing."
"Told you so," Hannah leered.
"We're just giving you a suitable mystic air," one of the elves said. "It's traditional to have this kind of singing going on when someone of a lesser race meets with elves."
Tiffania rubbed her temples. Louise felt a sudden and unexpected wave of sympathy for this half-elf. She understood very well the travails of trying to get your underlings to stop doing annoying things that they claimed were traditional. "Might we take this inside?" she suggested. "These are sensitive matters. And it's getting cold out here."
"Yes, an excellent idea," Tiffania said quickly. "Elves, please can you help put the youngest children to bed?"
There seemed to be some reluctance. "Do we have to? They're scary."
"Now! Or I'll send you to the Naughty Step," Tiffania said firmly, sending the elves scattering. She rubbed her hands together, huffing on them. "I'll be glad when the last of the winter chill is gone. It's stuck around longer this year than previous ones," she said conversationally. "Albionese winters are almost as bad as abyssal ones, at least at high altitude."
"I find that hard to believe," Jessica said, shaking her head. "The walls aren't frozen over."
"Well, maybe." Tiffania led the way past well-lit houses, towards the bulk of the ruined central citadel. "I've got a bit of a dungeon down there, where I keep things I shouldn't let the children near. But it's not particularly well ventilated, so, uh…"
Louise understood her meaning immediately. "Minions, don't come in unless I call. You'll stink up the place."
"But overlady..." Maxy protested.
"I mean it! I'll have you all tortured if you disobey!" There was some grumbling, but they obeyed. "Sorry for being later than expected. I hope you weren't waiting too long."
"We would just feel awful if you were expecting us," Henrietta added.
"Oh, no, no," Tiffania hastened to say. "There's always things for me to do here, what with the children and the elves. Who are honestly a big bunch of children anyway. And one of my contacts dropped by, so the tea didn't go to waste!" She glanced at Jessica. "Actually, you might know her. I can say that, right? Or is it rude to assume demons all know one another?"
"It's actually kinda rude, yeah," Jessica said. "The Abyss is a big place. It's not like we all know each oth—" She trailed off as they came to the bottom of the stairs. "You!"
Izah'belya looked up from her book, adjusting her oversized sunglasses. "Jesz'ika, darling, imagine seeing you here."
"Cut the crap! What are you playing at?"
"Me? I'm just visiting a client of mine!" Izah'belya rose, sundress flapping around her. "And what're you up to, huh? Are you poaching? I bet that's it!"
"Oh, like I'd need to poach from you!" Jessica snapped, not mentioning the samples hidden in the ship. "Dark gods! This is like like that time in New Amstelredamme! You're always... always showing up to be annoying and thwart me and—"
"You're totally stealing from me! You always do!"
Things went downhill from there.
...
Things were very awkward. Jessica and Izah'belya had been yelling at each other for twenty minutes now, and no one wanted to say a thing.
"Should we do something?" Henrietta asked softly, fumbling for a handkerchief.
"Um. I mean, this is probably an Abyssal thing," Louise replied. "It might be rude to butt in."
Tifa edged up to her. "Uh, what's going on?" she whispered as Izah'belya and Jessica started screaming about who stole what from whom ten years ago.
"They're cousins," Louise explained.
"Oh!" Tiffania smiled brightly. "I don't really have any relatives. Maybe this is normal."
"No. No, it is not." Louise reconsidered. "Well, unless you're royalty. Which they are. Hmm."
"Excuse me!" Henrietta said huffily. "I heard that crack about royalty!"
Louise stood on her toe with a clank and glared at her. "As
neither of us are royalty," she said firmly, "I don't think we care about implying that
foreign royalty spend all their time murdering each other and marrying their cousins. Unlike Tristainian royalty," she added, as a peace offering.
"Oh, yes, wasn't the dead Prince of Wales involved with his Tristianian cousin?" Tiffania asked, frowning. "I thought I heard something about that."
"Ouch!" Henrietta exclaimed as Louise kicked her in the shin, metal meeting metal. "Stop bullying me, your wickedness." She snivelled, wiping her eyes.
"I'm an overlady," Louise said, flushing pinkly. "It's my job to bully people, especially when they're trying to make a big deal about the rumours of Princess Henrietta being involved with someone. Which none of us care about!" She tried not to care. Not that the rumours were true, anyway! Henrietta's love for the prince had been platonic and pure and untouched by c-carnal urges and… and whatever Louise wanted to do with her wasn't the sort of thing that could make her impure and-
Wait.
The two demons had unfurled their wings, standing face to face. Jessica was looking decidedly handsome, and she found herself idly wondering if Izah'belya was wearing anything under that dr- ah! Louise slapped herself in the face, even as she pressed her thighs together. Stupid hot blushy feelings! They better stay out of her way! Just because she'd admitted to herself that she like-liked Henrietta didn't mean she wanted to do things – whatever two girls could do together, she'd probably need to look into that – with some busty, tanned, cow-like, Germanian-looking, pretty...
Louise's mental feet tangled together and her entire thought process tripped and fell over. One sentiment among the resultant cognitive pile-up was clear.
Kirche must never know.
For her part, Tiffania was just innocently staring at Louise with some mild concern. "Are you feeling fine?" she asked. "You just turned red, hit yourself in the face, and then stared into the middle distance." She glanced at Henrietta, who was sobbing into her handkerchief. "And what's up with her? Are they upsetting her?"
"I miss him so mu—" Henrietta gasped out, before Louise got her hand over her mouth.
"Evil magic!" Louise blurted out, grabbing the other overlady by the hand and dragging her and Henrietta out of the overlapping demonic auras. "When two demons like that do...
stuff, people act strange around them. We need to get away from them!"
"Are you sure? I don't feel any different," Tiffania protested as Louise pulled them away into the next room.
Well, bully for you, Louise thought bitterly. She sat Henrietta down. "Are you still feeling… um. Sad?"
Henrietta nodded mutely, her skull-shaped helmet sliding back and forth on her head.
"Do you need a hug?" Louise suggested, even as her brain belatedly pointed out that maybe they weren't out of the demonic influence yet and she should avoid embracing Henrietta. And also that her friend was a very strong hugger, although that part only really registered when she had all the air squeezed from her lungs and her armour was making alarming creaking sounds.
...
A wicked, sinful girl crept through the evening, holding onto her demonhost dolly Cuddles. She had slipped the elves easily, and now she peeked around the corner at the small horde of foul-smelling goblins who were sitting around outside the entrance to Aunty Tifa's not-secret secret lair.
"My lady," Cuddles said, "it would be best for you to not get involved with minions. They are cruel, vicious, and very stupid."
"And smelly," Magda agreed. "I'm still doing it."
"But why?"
"Really, please don't," said the demon-possessed toy goat she called Fluffles and carried in her rucksack.
"Because I want to! As mummy and daddy always said, 'do what thou want shall be the whole of the law'."
"... that's from a rather pathetic Abyssal self-help book, and not some great philosophy to live by," Cuddles began, but Magda stopped paying attention.
She marched up to the minions, dolly held so he could project hellfire at a single command. "Hey! Who are you?"
One of the larger ones, a brown-skinned creature with skull pauldrons and wicked yellow eyes glared at her. "Easy, lads."
"Oi! You is in the presence of ladies, Maggat!"
"And girl-lads, ta for the reminder Fettid, we is going to be careful here."
"But why?" one of the others hollered.
"'Cause the overlady was very per-sific about us not killing tiny humie. She'd get super mad at us."
"Urgh," a blue minion in a melodramatic cape groaned, collapsing to the ground. "She are real shrieky when she does that."
"Exactly, Scyl," Maggat said. "What is you wanting, tiny humie? 'Cause we no is meant to kill you, but the overlady no say I couldn't give you a clip around the ear and steal your dollies to wear on my head."
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Cuddles said smoothly. "While I am of course a gentleman – and a lawyer," a word that made the minions flinch back, "I wouldn't say the same about Falufarglesh."
"Wanna eat faces," the toy goat growled.
"Quite so."
Maggat nodded. "Got it. I no wanna wear a lawyer on my head anyway. What is the tiny humie wanting, horny?"
"Sooooo." Magda scuffed her shoes in the dirt. She hugged her demonhost dollie close. "I have a fun game for us to play."
"It better not be Fifty Two Knife pick up," a shifty looking brown minion next to Maggat said, shaking his head. "It are a boring game. They is always in people's backs."
Magda beamed, pulling out a stolen kitchen knife. "No, silly! It's called Vivvy Section!"
There was a long pause. "Played it before!" one of the minions called out from the back.
"Yeah," a red minion carrying a musket and wearing a red beret agreed. "Get your organs cut out by Fettid once, an' it ain't fun any mor—" He screamed as Fettid stabbed him.
"Let's just go ride some sheepies!" Scyl said dreamily.
"Wait." Magda's deep blue eyes were wide with the sudden vistas of limitless possibility revealed before her. "You can do that?!"
...
Louise felt like one of those tube-things that chefs used to put icing on cakes. No, she didn't know what they were called. She didn't make cakes. She was a noble. There were people to do that for her. But after finding a place to unlatch the tearful Henrietta and leave her to get over her breakdown, all the while being tightly hugged, she had a pretty good idea of what it must feel like to be one.
"It is very strange that you're both so sensitive to demonic energies – and so differently!" Tifa said brightly. "I can't imagine what it feels like. Has it stopped?"
"No." Louise swallowed. "No, it has not." She bit her lip, and pushed down the urge to go comfort Henrietta. Normally she'd be fully on board with cheering up her friend, but right now there was an under layer of wanting to kiss away her tears.
"Well… uh." Tiffania winced. "I mean, I can't see much of you under that armour, but you look hot and bothered. Are the flames of the Abyss burning your soul?"
"Um. No?" Louise pondered that question. "I'm pretty sure not. How would you check?"
"I don't really know myself. It's just the sort of things the elves say." She leaned against the solid stone wall, brow furrowed. "Well, this has been a right proper disaster! I'm rather peeved!"
Louise frowned. "Yes," she said, distracted. There was something about the way the other woman spoke that wasn't quite right. It was… hmm. Yes. That was it. Tiffania didn't have the brash, drawling elven accent when speaking a proper language. She spoke… well, she spoke Tristainian like an Albionese noble. And more than that, she spoke Albionese like an Albionese noble. "If you don't mind me asking… you don't sound like the other elves. And the way you talk about them…"
"Oh, that! Yes! That's because I'm only half-elf," Tiffania said with a shrug. "On my mother's side. My father was a duke."
Louise swallowed. A human and an elf, m-making babies? Who knew what vile wiles an elf might have used on a poor innocent duke? "I didn't know an Albionese duke married an elf," she tried.
"They loved each other, but they couldn't tell anyone about their marriage," Tiffania said, face suddenly hard. "The Republicans murdered my father and my mother. She gave her life to get me out of there. So I'm going to kill them all." She smiled. "I am the rightful duchess of these lands. And given my father's status, it's a bit of a mess and some other people closer to the throne might have survived, but I think I'm the true queen of Albion. Oh, and I'm the rightful heir to the elven monarchy, too. The elves make a big deal about it. There's a dark prophecy and everything."
"Ah." There didn't seem to me much else to say.
"And my magic music box that teaches me spells says I'm an overlady too and I'm destined to cover the land in shadow," Tiffania added, as an afterthought. "But you probably know all about that sort of thing."
"Oh," said Louise. She wasn't used to such a forthright admission of such things. She also felt more than a little irked that she didn't have a magic music box… that…
Wait. She stared suspiciously at her left hand. They were going to have a talk later, oh yes they were. But not around Tiffania. She wasn't about to be out-destined! Out-destinied? Well, whatever the word was, she wasn't having it! And on top of that, she couldn't give up the power until she had her revenge on Wardes and had put Henrietta back on the throne. Her revenge was more important than Tiffania's revenge. Though she could use Tiffania's revenge to further her revenge!
… and do good, of course. Yes. She just had to crush the council and put Henrietta on the throne and then she could start finding a way to get rid of this dark power. Maybe she could give it to Tiffania, yes. Yes. Hmm. Maybe not, if she was destined to cast the land into shadow. That sounded like giving her more power might go wrong.
Something to think about.
For her part, Tiffania clearly had concluded that her fellow overlady was still zoning out because of the demonic power. She grabbed Louise's hand, pulling her towards the exit. "I think this has gone on quite long enough," she said firmly, rolling up her sleeves. "Time to fetch... the Bucket! I've had enough of them fighting!"
"The bucket?" Louise asked. "What is this bucket?"
"Some of the children call it," Tiffania paused dramatically, "the Bucket of Doom."
...
Izah'belya had a black eye. Jessica was bleeding from the nose. Their clothes were shredded. They were also both dripping wet.
"So," Tiffania said firmly, holding up the now-empty Bucket of Doom, "if you two don't stop all this silliness, I'll throw another bucket of cold water over you. Don't think I won't."
"..." Louise didn't say, because the two were still radiating demonic energy in their dripping-wet, clothes-torn state. Words were a little hard to come by right now.
"You two are being so ill-mannered that my guest is reduced to speechlessness out of fury! Look how red in the face she is! You're lucky I just threw water at you! She might have started throwing fire! Or lightning!"
Jessica and Izah'belya exchanged a look; Jessica bemused, Izah'belya weary.
"What's going on with her?" Jessica muttered handsomely, shaking her head and scattering water droplets everywhere. She was starting to steam.
"Looks like she doesn't... you know," Izah'belya said, wringing out her ruined top with a disgusted-yet-lascivious look.
"You know?"
Izah'belya fluttered her eyebrows.
"Being obtuse doesn't... oh. You
know."
"Mmm hmm."
"Oh wow, not even, like, a little bit?"
"Seems not. I mean, I knew she wasn't into girls, but…" Both of them shrieked as another bucket of water was thrown over them.
"We'll have no more of that silly conversation, thank you very much," Tiffania said primly. "I don't know what you're talking about and I don't think I want to."
"How the fuck did that refill itself?" Jessica smouldered. "There's no way you- ah!" Another wave of water hit her in the face, splashing onto her cousin.
"It's a magic bucket, obviously," Tiffania said, as if it was simple.
"Oh come on!" Izah'belya stared down at her front in disgust. "I didn't even bring a spare top, let alone a spare bra, and this is all silk! It's only meant to be dry cleaned! If you're going to throw water, throw it at Jez'sika! She's wearing cotton!"
"Stop that!"
"You stop that!"
Tiffania tapped her fingers against the bucket. "Now, what am I going to do with you horrible pair?" She gestured at Louise. "She can't even stand to look at you!"
Louise had her back turned, and her knees were held tight together. "Y-yes! Of course! It's... it's disgusting how you're carrying on," she said, voice peculiarly breathy. "I think it's a good idea for them to go somewhere and get changed into fresh clothes and make out and resolve their differences." She trailed off. Would it be worse if she corrected herself and brought attention to the slip, or worse if she let it stand? "It's good for cousins to get along well," she said, and groaned when she registered how it sounded.
"A solid idea!" Tifa said grandly. "I know just the place! Both of you! To the Naughty Corner! Or as it has now been renamed, the Nice Corner!"
Jessica sniggered. But the smile fell from her face when she realised that Izah'belya wasn't laughing. "Now, now, there's no need for that—" began the succubus, backing away.
Tiffania spoke a word that made Louise's teeth squirm and buzz like insects. The world shook and shivered, dust falling from the ceiling and flies dropping to the ground dead. Space
twisted. Jessica and Izah'belya accelerated away rapidly while remaining in place. Then the world snapped back to how it was meant to be – absent one succubus and half-incubus.
"What did you do?" Louise screamed at her. Cold fear gripped her stomach. Scarron was going to kill her. Scarron was going to kill her and then take her soul and torture it for eternity and-
Tiffania smiled sunnily. "Put them in the Naughty Corner. It's where I put all the misbehaving boys and girls. I'll let them out in a bit, after they've had time to cool their heads."
"But did it kill her? Or hurt her in any way? It's very, very important to me!"
"Of course not. It's just a way to punish people who are naughty." Tiffania crossed her arms. "You should try looking after children. It teaches you all kinds of things. Well, that was the magic music box that taught me this, but it's basically the same thing. Now, come on. Let's get you and Anne fed and rested! Tomorrow we can talk properly without those two interrupting."
Louise swallowed, working her jaw. "Are you absolutely, one hundred percent sure that Jessica and… whatever her name is… are fine?"
"Of course, of course!"
...
The sky was black. The ground was not black, because there was no ground. There was only endless scattered fragments of worlds floating in this endless void. The detritus of history and the jetsam of timelines spun in this infinite expanse. Many-coloured auroras gave inconstant, erratic lighting.
Upon a ruined fragment of a temple, two soaking wet, tattered, and more than a little wind-blown demons stood.
Jessica sidled up to the edge, and looked down. There was nothing. She picked up a fallen brick, and tossed it over the side. There was no clatter.
"OK, I'll bite," she said, retreating from the crumbling side. "Where the unholy crap are we?"
Izah'belya sighed, snapping her fingers. The small pile of dried wood she had managed to scavenge ignited, and she blew on it until it caught properly. "Who knows? Hopefully she remembers about us. Or your boss reminds her. Your boss is cute, she probably will. Won't she? But Tifa sent me here once before, but that was just because I wanted to see what she was doing from the inside. So it was for, like a minute or two."
"Um." Jessica searched for words. "That's kind of dumb to let an overlady cast magic on you," she settled on, as she approached the fire to dry off her clothes.
"Yeah, I mean, I thought she was opening a hole to the Abyss so I wanted to see where it came out. I thought I could get a cheap backdoor smuggling route Mom wouldn't know about. Nope. Turns out it's this place. Whatever it is."
Jessica scratched her nose. "Well, it's super-bad, whatever it is. There's more than enough Evil in here for us to live off it. I can taste it drifting through the air in clouds."
"Urgh. I fucking hate hate hate living off dark magic," Izah'belya said, trying to get comfortable on the stony ground. "I tried it once."
"Oh yeah, when we were teenagers. Weren't you trying to make your horns bigger? Something silly like that."
Izah'belya glared at her. "Yeah. And it sucks. It works – at least if you're fed enough Evil, but the side effects suck. It gave me a splitting migraine from the horn growth and shoulder pains from my wings."
"Wait, was that why you wound up in that psych place?"
"Yeah. That, uh. That was my feet turning half-way into hooves. And almost all the changes faded once they got me back on a normal diet. Give me proper food any day." She sighed, hugging her knees. "I don't trust myself with all-Evil diets. I might slip back into… unhealthy coping mechanisms."
"Well, we've got a fire, and we're not going to starve to death," Jessica said, trying to look on the side of dark radiance. "You won't have to do this for long, because I bet she's going to pull us out soon. And I brought some books with me for the boat trip, so, you know. Could be worse." She pulled one out of her bag, flipping it open. "At least the bag was waterproof, even if everything else wasn't."
Izah'belya stared at her, pale brows furrowed. When that didn't work, she started coughing.
"I don't have any cough sweets."
"You know that's not why I'm coughing."
"Whatever could you mean, sweetest cousin?" Jessica asked, with a false aristocratic Tristainian accent.
"Stop that. Look, I'm going to keep on getting on your nerves until you lend me a book," Izah'belya said. "I mean, what else is there for me to do here? Have a heartfelt conversation with you where we resolve our differences and realise we've really got more in common and it's only the systematic racism and structural discrimination of the Abyss that drove us apart when we were childhood best friends? And that we've both been really bitchy to each other at one time or another? And both of us are outcasts in our own way; me because I'm 'weak-blooded' and 'too human' and because I don't do what a 'proper' succubus should, while you're a female incubus and so don't conform to heteronormative standards of beauty and sexuality?"
There was a long pause. "Are you trying to get into my pants?" Jessica asked suspiciously. "Because you know damn well that I'm not into girls."
"Oh my dark gods!" Izah'belya snapped. "You just can't stop with the anti-succubus comments! And—"
A tossed book hit her in the face and she reeled back, mildly stunned. "Ooops," Jessica said, not sounding very sorry. "Something to read."
Izah'belya scowled at her, muttering.
"Say 'thank you'."
"Fuck you."
"It's pronounced 'Thank', Izzie. Thaaaaaaank."
