Chapter 21: Foreclosure

Choch ignored the man. He had walked back to sit behind that metal shelf he touched to control various functions of the containment room. She focused on examining her surroundings and controlling the last tremors from the lightning coursing through her body. Her grandchild needed her.

Gomm’s squealing chitter of fear and pain grated at her as she perused the cage they were both trapped in. Blaming him for his reaction would not help the situation, so she reassured him.

“Focus on your breathing. We can get out of this and go home.”

Choch winced as she said it. Gomm took his fearful chittering in hand and started taking shallow, quick breaths.

Better, but not helpful. Let’s get him calmer first.

“Slower, Gomm. Deep and even. In…then out.”

Her grandson twitched convulsively but tried to follow her directions. He sidled closer to the shimmering wall separating them and took stuttering breaths. The wall started to spark and jump. Choch carefully did not show her alarm at the barrier, reacting to her grandson’s proximity.

“That’s close enough, dear one. We need to take our time and see the details of the situation before acting. Say nothing to the human, Gomm.”

Choch heard the last chunk of her sentence repeated in the human tongue and a dulcet female voice. She looked at the fat, poorly dressed human with an unkempt beard who smiled at her with none of it reaching his eyes. He was trying to pull off a mystical look the way an untrustworthy cart salesman failed at looking respectable.

“By all means, if you wish to take the position of prime negotiator on behalf of what I assume is your progeny, I approve.”

She chittered an insult at him in her tongue that the dulcet tones of the unseen female duly translated. The man had the grace to blush at the translation but not the sense the gods gave blind frogs to back off.

“Charming. Insults. I’ll take that as a negative on volunteering to act as a binding arbiter on behalf of your relative. Shall I let you try to escape from this room first, then? I promise not to interfere in your efforts, and if you succeed in breaching the room you find yourself trapped within, I will even escort you to the borders of our fair city and see you safely on your way.”

“I know the worth of a human oath. I’ll kill you once I get out of here.”

Gomm looked nervously at her as she threatened the man. Choch knew he was not used to her being aggressive, just firm about washing up before supper. The clerkguin had found what he was searching for and waddled back to Beckle with a sheaf of papers.

“On my word as Grandmaster Zubadiah Beckle, grandmaster of the knowet-alls of the kingdom of Keltaire, I do so swear that if you succeed in breaking the containment of this room by your own actions and will in my presence, I will not impede your immediate egress from the city of Purpolis. Furthermore, I will aid you in that endeavor. I will take no action to impede this escape effort while you are in my presence beyond those precautions already put in place. This I swear.”

Clarence, the clerkguin squonked in agitation at this statement and angrily waddled back to the filing cabinet to get a different set of documents. A shuddering chime that shook the walls went throughout the room, and the harmonious voice could be heard after,

“Heard and witnessed. Do you agree?”

A shudder passed through the man who had identified himself, but he said nothing else as Choch stared at him. Of the four mannequins along one wall who had been scribbling furiously at every movement in the room, three of their quills started to glow as they wrote.

Those things creeped her out with their jerky movements and expressionless painted faces. Bringing her mind back to focus, she was unsure how to respond to such a statement. Gomm saved her the trouble and shouted in an excited chitter,

“Yes! We agree!”

At these words, Clarence stopped waddling back from the filing cabinet. The clerkquin closed his eyes and breathed slowly, then out again in suppressed rage. He crumpled the new stack of papers in his flippers, then threw them into a wastebasket near Beckle’s console.

A burst of fire erupted, reducing the papers to ashes. Clarence, still seething, waddled over to one of the mannequins. He watched impatiently as it meticulously wrote on a fresh page, his beak clacking in agitation. Once the mannequin retrieved a glowing seal from a drawer and stamped the new paper, he snatched it up. The mannequin stopped moving. The clerkguin squawked with impatience.

Clarence slapped the side of the mannequin’s head, waited for another copy to be made and stamped, then retrieved that one. He took the original to Beckle.

The clerkquin then rummaged in a small chest near the man, withdrew a cowboy hat with a starred badge centered on the brim, and placed it on his head. He then waddled to Gomm’s containment with the copy in hand, waiting before the barrier.

The disembodied voice spoke out again,

“Agreement of Gomm to the terms set by Zubadiah Beckle, Heard and witnessed.”

A small chime that did not cause as much of a shudder echoed around the room, causing Gomm to squirm as it passed through him. Choch hissed at her grandson in a fury before biting back the anger.

“Gomm! What did I tell you?!”

Beckle interrupted any justification her grandson might have given,

“He said, he agreed. Clarence, please give that copy of the contract to our young Gomm. He’ll need it for his files.”

Clarence Waddled through the barrier separating Gomm from the rest of the room. The shimmering light of the wall rippled over his body as it allowed him through. Gomm leaped at the creature, claws extended, and was slapped to the side by the clerkguin. Gomm bounced off one prison wall with a disconcerting bong as more lightning arced from the barrier to course through his tiny form. He squalled in pain.

Choch cried out at her grandson being attacked. Clarence ignored the noise and light show, placed the paper on the prison’s ground, and retreated through the barrier. He deposited his hat in the chest, then clacked his beak at Beckle.

“Yes, yes, I know you have another meeting with the king to prep us for. Sarah can handle being my assistant from here. I’ll be along after I am finished here. Go ahead without me.”

Clarence eyed the goomers in containment thoughtfully before shaking his head and leaving the room. Beckle watched him go, then turned back to the prison. She eyed her grandson crying in a heap near the wall of the containment chamber and seethed.

Beckle addressed her,

“How about you, Grand-dam Choch?”

“How do you know our names? Where are we?”

“Do you agree?”

“I do not. I’ll still kill you on my way out of here.”

The voice spoke,

“Grand-dam Choch has made a counterproposal. Do you agree, Grandmaster Beckle?”

The fat, unkempt man before her smiled his soulless smile again.

“If she succeeds, I grant her the same terms to be fulfilled by my successor. If no successor is eligible at the time of my unfortunate demise at the hands of Choch, I leave the task to you, Sarah. I agree. Isn’t it lovely when we can continue a negotiation?”

The voice named Sarah responded as another giant shudder passed through the room.

“Are you giving me authorization to act beyond my normal duties on behalf of Choch to carry out this task should she succeed in killing you?”

Beckle frowned at the ceiling.

“Was I not clear? If she kills me and there is no eligible successor at the time of my passing, yes. You will then have the authority to assist her escape from the city limits of Purpolis. That should cover it. Document the contract so we can move on.”

“Heard and witnessed.”

A third echoing chime shuddered through the room as the mannequins with glowing quills recorded the happenings. The one without the glow mimicked their movements exactly. In unison, the three withdrew a glowing seal from the desk they were seated at and slammed it onto the pages before them. The unique mannequin had a soft-looking doll of a black and white bear with a sad expression that squeaked sharply as it was slammed onto the desk. Beckle whirled at the sound to find its source.

All four automatons had already reset themselves to continue notetaking on fresh pages of paper withdrawn from their desks. Beckle stared suspiciously at the four.

“Sarah, when was the last time those scribes were serviced?”

“I’ll remind you, sir, the scribes have already been added to your to-do list, and we have…guests that require attending.”

“Of course, of course. Where are my manners? Sarah, Please file those contracts for me.”

Beckle turned back to Choch and Gomm as three tubes snaked from the ceiling behind him and sucked up the contracts. One of the tubes reached out to the extra mannequin and attempted to retrieve the paper before the red-haired mannequin slapped it away.

Choch observed the actions taken by everyone in the room with a thoughtful look. Beckle, with another frown, turned his head briefly to look at the noise before being distracted by Choch asking,

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“Don’t I get a copy?”

“You are of a higher caliber threat. You’ll get access to a copy once we are done here.”

A more sincere smile plastered across his face. He bent to rummage under the console he was standing in front of and withdrew a statue of a woman with a blindfold over one eye, balancing a set of scales with figurines of humans on one side and wild creatures on the other. The eye, not blindfolded, was closed.

He carefully placed the statue on the console before him and spoke,

“This, I avow, and yadda-yadda is an instrument that will speed up further negotiations. You and Gomm have already agreed, and these scales will show the next step in our negotiations has reached a balance that benefits Purpolis or you. I will tell you now that unless they are balanced evenly or heavily in the city’s favor, I will not agree to any proposal from here on.”

Chcoch stared.

The man is mad. What is his obsession with deals? Can’t act too early. Let’s see where he’s going with this.

“What do you want? Gold? Spells? What do you offer? We want our freedom.”

The figurine’s scale shifted sharply, elevating the wild creatures well above the humans.

Beckle smiled at the Goom without it reaching his eyes.

“I do not offer freedom. Let me state that I will not voluntarily allow you to walk free from the city limits of Purpolis without you fulfilling the terms of our previously concluded deal, Grand-dam.”

The scales balanced back to a neutral position between the figures.

Choch eyed the figurine and glanced to Goom. She chittered at him.

“Gomm, this is important. Do not speak. Let me handle this. Nod if you understand.”

Gomm sniffled loudly as he hugged himself but nodded back at his gramma. Sarah’s voice translated the words for Beckle to hear, and the scribes in the corner continued to record the events unfolding. Beckle listened to Choch’s words attentively and watched as the figurine’s arms did not move.

“Fair enough. I am willing to deal exclusively with you for the fate of yourself and your progeny. You witnessed the result of Brett’s unfortunate failure to achieve his goals. My goal for this negotiation is for you and Gomm to join him as a resource for the kingdom of Keltaire.”

Choch scoffed as the scales slammed down on the side of the creatures. She felt some action was needed to put pressure on the man.

Now’s as good a time as any.

She started muttering slowly and made some gestures. The walls of her prison glowed briefly, and she sagged slightly from the taxing nature of the spell. Beckle smirked at her paltry effort.

She responded with a disgruntled expression and scratched idly at the line crossing her chest fur while her antennae bobbed in agitation. She spoke as she approached the wall and dug ineffectually at the floor with her claws.

“Even your magical toy can see that’s a scat deal. You demand our destruction. How is that a negotiation?

“Negotiations are best started with each party’s goals clearly stated. All else is compromise.”

You are not willing to submit. I am not willing to grant your freedom. I’ll offer something for your progeny.”

Choch muttered a more prolonged spell and shuffled around in a slow dance with long sweeping gestures. Green lightning bolts arced down her antennae to gather in a condensed ball of energy. The more complex recitation drained her further as she drooped and started panting from the cost.

The lightning arced from the gathered point and struck the wall before her. Sparks cascaded from the impact, and the wall let loose a shimmering ripple that shuddered through its surface.

Once the sparks hit the ground and the ripples she had caused from the strike settled, Beckle continued.

“A stay of execution. A month, then he will be harvested, just as you will be today.”

After catching her breath, Choch snorted in derision as the scale moved only slightly from its position. She wouldn't have been able to tell if she hadn’t been watching as it moved. Her white fur ruffed up on her head between her antennae.

“Cause and effect, human. One of your kind was fond of saying that to my family. He’s dead now.”

Choch bit at the pad of one of her hands until blood started to flow. Beckle raised an eyebrow at her as she let the blood flow into her cupped hand. She dipped a claw from her other hand in the blood and approached the wall, starting to draw arcane symbols. The scribbling of the scribes picked up in pace as she drew.

The bright white of her fur started to fade to a duller sheen as she worked. She was muttering under her breath and panting as she got closer to completing a circle of glyphs against the wall of her prison in her blood.

Gomm pressed against the wall in his prison, trying to get a better view.

“Gramma? What are you doing?”

“Quiet, deary. I need to concentrate.”

Beckle approached the circle she had nearly completed and studied it carefully.

“A fig-newton-gnocci sequence? Interesting. But where did you learn that?”

Choch completed the circle, and with a squeaky shout of rage, as if a squirrel cried out in vengeance against its ancestors being devoured by cats, she slammed her still bleeding hand into the center of the circle she had scribed with her blood.

Her body thinned, her very life fueling the spell. She fell to one knee in a sprinter’s crouch as a flash of brimstone and fire ate from the center of the circle outward, creating a hole in the barrier before her.

She shouted in triumph as she lunged through the opening. Beckle leaned backward away from the opening and calmy kicked Gramma Choch in the face, sending her sprawling back into the prison as the hole she had created snapped closed behind her flailing form.

Gomm cried out in alarm at the rough treatment. He called for her repeatedly as she lay in the pose of one who had just been rudely served boot justice.

She lay in the center of the containment, panting before slowly sitting up and rubbing at her muzzle. Her partially wizened body moved weakly, and her white fur looked dull. She was carefully tonguing a hole where she was now missing one canine, lapping at the blood before it dribbled out of one side of her mouth.

Beckle stared at where the hole in the prison wall had been, chagrined.

“Well, that was more impressive than I had expected from one of your ilk. I suppose I should congratulate you.”

As Gomm continued calling for her to answer him, Beckle looked down at his boot and saw the missing tooth sticking out. The root of it was stained with blood, where it had been ripped from Choch’s mouth.

Laughing, he bent to pluck the ivory prize from the leather of his boot. Pocketing it, Beckle did not notice the scale behind him inch upward slightly, losing favor for Purpolis.

“Where did you learn that sequence? We only recently acquired it ourselves.”

Choch spat blood from her muzzle and staggered back to her feet.

“I see you can’t keep your word. That was not part of our earlier deal. You said you wouldn’t take any action you hadn’t already prepared.”

Beckle laughed again,

“Is self-defense training not preparation? Further, you did not leave this room. Our deal is ongoing.”

“Almost had you. I’m fine, Gomm, stop caterwauling.”

Gomm fell silent but began digging at the floor just as ineffectually as his gramma had earlier. He was letting out small whimpers he failed to stifle. Choch’s face tightened at the sound. She replied to Beckle,

“You’ll get nothing from me, human. A month? Laughable, ten years and a day wouldn’t be enough. And, you offer nothing for me? Am I to just lay back and let you have whatever you want?”

“Well, that would be ideal. I can see how a month for him and nothing for you might be unpalatable. Very well. Two months for him and a week for you, provided you cooperate with certain preparations in those seven days.”

The scales moved again, still obscenely in favor of the humans standing victorious on their side of things. Choch went to the wall near Gomm wearily and leaned as close as she could to him. Gomm stopped digging at the wall and pressed his small clawed hands against where she was sitting, trying to hug her through the wall.

Choch gazed at Gomm, who was clinging to the wall and trying to reach her. Her antennae drooped and twitched. Her tone turned hard as she looked back to Beckle.

“I’ll accept no deal that puts a time limit on Gomm’s safety.”

Beckle watched as the scales showed the advantage shifting further. It still heavily favored the human side.

“I’ll not guarantee his safety. I can offer an opportunity for his continued existence.”

Choch took stock of the surroundings. Her grandson was frightened, nearly out of his mind. Her efforts to escape the room had been stymied so far, and no one was coming to save them.

Gomm needs to be safe.

“Details, human. I’ll not have vagueness in my grandson’s safety. You’ll not get your “harvest” today, either.”

Beckle amicably spread his hands,

“Of course. Here is the deal I propose. You submit yourself to harvest in one week. Before that, you willingly participate in procedures to prepare a more efficient harvest. In exchange, Gomm will be placed in the city dungeon after your harvest to participate in our ambient mana processing program. He will be afforded all rights and privileges of the average participant.”

His food and lodging will be provided at no undue cost. He will not be forced to participate in other programs you find distasteful or dangerous within the city. Failure to cooperate in the preparations will result in the immediate harvest of yourself and him.”

Choch’s muzzle curled in a snarl,

“No deal, Gomm is not to be harmed.”

“Again, I will not guarantee his complete safety. However, I will not harvest him as long as he stays within the limits of Purpolis dungeon and your part in this deal is met. Failure to fulfill your part of this negotiation will result in all rights and privileges attained by Gomm being forfeited and his immediate placement at the front of the queue as a priority harvest. All other provisions remain the same.”

The scales of the figurine slowly swung towards equilibrium between the wild creatures and humans. The scale only a claw or two higher on the human side.

Beckle waited patiently for Choch to respond with his hands clasped in front of him. The scribes in the corner grew still. Thick silence broken only by small whimpers from Gomm fell upon the room.

Choch looked at Gomm. The child’s antennae drooped and twitched, his eyes red from crying. Her grandson was so small as he hunched in on himself. He gazed back at her, pleading with his red-rimmed eyes.

Containment is not too bad.

Beckle’s pocket moved as she looked back at him. The fat, unkempt man did not notice as Choch’s broken tooth floated smoothly out of his pocket and across the room to land gently on the desk in front of the red-haired mannequin. A sarcastically drawn pair of eyes faded into view on the mannequin’s face with a smirking mouth. And then it winked at her.

The red-haired scribe covered the tooth on the desk with one hand and placed a finger over its mouth for silence. Its hand withdrew under the desk, and the figure became still once more, waiting with its writing utensil poised to record events. Choch carefully showed no reaction.

Beckle glanced over his shoulder as Choch’s gaze remained fixed behind him. He frowned and turned back to her, seeing nothing besides the vexingly dressed, red-haired mannequin behind him.

“Well?”

Choch took a deep breath and looked at her grandson again before speaking.

“Agreed.”

A deep chime echoed through Purpolis, causing many arguments over late deliveries as the city had just chimed the one o’clock bell. The tremor felt by most inhabitants was largely dismissed as a passing cart overladen, as most were these days. There were never enough resources to go around anymore.