21. Go Fish Pt. 2

Before Isaac had a chance to respond, a loud crunch interrupted him. He glanced over to see Casimir had reached into the basket and pulled out what looked like some kind of fruit, though certainly not one that existed on Earth. It was a perfectly round sphere, not a dent nor imperfect angle in sight, and its color shifted between solid green to a soft peach in the light. It should by all accounts look fake and unappetizing, and it did indeed look fake, but Isaac found his eyes oddly drawn to the strange fruits. Another loud crunch snapped him out of his thoughts, and he scowled.

“What even is that?” Isaac regretted asking when Casimir proceeded to answer before he was done chewing.

“Oh, these? I was practicing falls in the Woodlands and I saw this big circle of fey, like seriously it was so huge I could see them up near the middle moon! Anyways I dropped down to see what they were doing and they were watching this big tree grow with all these fruits on it and chanting some stuff. Dunno what it was though, don’t speak the fey language.”

“So you stole the fruit.”

Casimir frowned. “I wouldn’t do that. I just asked them what they were doing, and they gave me some on their own.” The man shrugged, seemingly deep in thought as he attempted to come up with a reasonable enough explanation for his blatant theft. “Charisma,” he said.

‘Intimidation’ was more like it. Which…was indeed a component of charisma, one Isaac had completely neglected to account for in the terrible survey questions resting in his tablet. He groaned. Mortimer raised an eyebrow at him as he turned back to face Lucius.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll… figure something else out.”

“I thought you didn’t have any other ideas.” Naturally Mortimer only spoke up when he had the opportunity to incriminate him. Traitor.

“I do have other ideas.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware,” Mortimer said with utmost sincerity. He paused expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer, and Lucius and Casimir both turned his way as well. With the amount of mirrors encircling the room reflecting their images, it looked like hundreds of people turning his direction. Isaac spoke without thinking.

“I was gonna see if there’s a creature with good innate intuition,” he said, speeding up his words as he realized how absurd the bullshit leaving his mouth was. “Like a dog. It’s an Upper World thing.”

To his utter relief, Mortimer nodded like that made complete sense, and even Lucius looked contemplative.

“Well, there are no creatures I know of in the Inferno who I believe match what you’re searching for. You could perhaps see if there’s a being like that in the Woodlands,” he suggested. “That’s where you’re most likely to achieve results.”

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“Oooo, that sounds fun! Can I—“

“You literally just stole fruit from them. You’re not coming along.”

Casimir huffed and took another bite of the fruit, giant white wings flapping a bit in childish indignation. There was something vaguely disturbing about seeing such a perfectly round sphere bitten into like an apple or something. Isaac wasn’t even fully convinced they were meant to be eaten in the first place.

Shaking his head, Isaac consciously ignored the angel and turned to Lucius instead. “Thank you. Sorry for wasting your time,” he muttered. The demon waved dismissively.

“It wasn’t a bother at all, Isaac. You’re free to stop by whenever you wish. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.” He paused, frowning. “I do hope you’re not stressing too much about this.”

He smiled wryly. “Thanks, but that’s kind of impossible for me.”

The demon shook his head. “That’s a shame. Really, I know she isn’t likely to listen to my advice, but if you see her, could you tell Lilith not to worry so much about pleasing everyone? It simply isn’t possible, especially not in the Underside.”

Casimir snorted between loud bites. “Besides, not like improving the system’s gonna change people’s opinion of her.” Isaac frowned at the angel. He doubted Lilith cared much about what others thought of her (she certainly didn’t care what Isaac thought of her), but the casual assuredness in the man’s demeanor made him pause. He was about to ask for elaboration, but Casimir barreled onwards, continuing before Isaac could interrupt. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out!”

He scowled. “I’m serious. You’re not coming.”

“Yeah yeah. I promise I won’t follow you! I’ll just find one of those, uh, intuition creatures and bring one!”

“Don’t you have better things to do?”

Casimir shrugged. “Well I tied with Lucius again today, so no, not really.”

Isaac wondered, not for the first time, if there was such a thing as employment or jobs in Paradise. Surely there was. Maybe the angel just ignored his duties—that, or no one was willing to hire him. He couldn’t blame them.

Isaac sighed. “Do what you want, just don’t bother anyone. I’m heading to the Woodlands.” He glanced over at Mortimer questioningly, and the half undead man nodded in confirmation.

“Ah, wait. Before you leave,” Lucius interrupted. He raised a hand, and the tip of his index finger began to glow a soft blue. Isaac blinked as in the next second, a feeling of coolness, similar to that of a light autumn breeze, wrapped around him like a blanket. “For when you go through the tunnels,” Lucius explained as he drew his hand back.

Isaac moved his arm, unable to feel any difference or added heaviness in his limbs. Instead, the temperature was just a fraction cooler than before. “Thanks,” Isaac said gratefully. Lucius smiled and turned to Mortimer.

“Will you be needing one as well?”

Mortimer shifted his gaze from where he’d been staring intently at the glow of magic that had just faded. “No thank you,” he said. He nodded his head politely at the demon and turned away, making to leave.

“Oh wait, before you go, you never answered my question about go fish!”

“Nope, I’ve got better things to do.” Isaac turned and strode backwards, only to pause when it occurred to him that he didn’t actually know how to get back to the tunnels; there was no visible door within the throne room, just a smooth wall lined with those slightly off mirrors.

“Knock on the wall four times,” Lucius called from the throne stairs.

Isaac frowned, but did as instructed. Raising his hand, he rapped his knuckles on the wall between two of the mirrors. For the first three, nothing happened. On the fourth, the air around him shifted, and he soon felt himself falling through what was now a familiar cold darkness.