Chapter Nine - Tammy

“Congratulations, you’ve now officially survived being bitch-slapped by a god. Care to explain?”

The words were warbly and hard to focus on. I tried to look up but all that happened was my neck rolling to the side. Everything was warm, a dull buzzing heat so unlike what had been here before. That angry, unclean warmth was gone.

“’an’t feel my arms…”

The words were slurred, my tongue not quite fitting in my mouth as it got caught on my teeth. Colors smeared together into whorls of purple and green and gold overhead and I felt my stomach lurch as I tried to focus.

“Shit, roll her over! No, on her side! Don’t any of you drink?”

Darkness flashed again. Next thing I knew, I was upright again. Someone kept pushing me back in place as I tried to slide bonelessly out of the chair. Another someone was pushing something wet and minty into my mouth. I reflexively swallowed, then lolled forward and groaned.

“You sure that’s enough?” A purple and red blob on my left shifted with the words.

“Unless she weighs a few dozen pounds more than she looks.” This time, it was a dark, blurry shape with a green blob in the middle. A…tank top? “No charge – the Frats pay for this stuff in bulk. She’s not gonna be sober but this is the best you can get in town.”

“Thanks babe. Glad you were here to cover the Boss’s fuckup. Girl’s fucking swimming in it after that.”

I felt myself being moved, but the fog in my head was so slow to fade and I still couldn’t feel my arms. They laid me out on…a table? They moved off, the conversation fading out into the background. The smell of pizza and booze was everywhere, but after a helpless eternity it stopped making me feel so nauseous. The dizziness and weakness faded, bit by bit, as feeling leaked back in under the tingles.

I was. Incredibly drunk. That’s what I was feeling. How?

My arms were still nearly numb when I managed to push myself up into a wobbly sitting position.

“She’s up, finally!” The eye searing blob – purple hair, purple shirt, red velvet and lips – moved closer, weaving around tables. “Now. What the fuck did you do?”

“…what?”

“Don’t what me, kid. The second you stepped onto consecrated ground, my god did everything short of trying to kill you. Even if you’re messing with the same shit as the Old Man was, that ain’t normal.” They put their hands on their hips and leaned in close. “Your arms might be the things smoking for now, but trust me: you do not want to lie here.”

A dizzy spell hit again and I nearly fell over. They pulled back and sighed, starting to mumble to thin air.

“This shit’s wasted an hour already. Damn it, Boss.”

The ground shook, a soured scent of grapes that made my stomach turn rolling out as every single glass and bottle of alcohol in the room jumped in place.

“Oh come on, not this again. It’s a goddamn expression.”

Another rumble. Weaker. Then a rapid fire argument with the air that I couldn’t follow as the room kept softly shaking. At one point, a wine bottle threw itself at the person that had to be Mordo and bounced off the table I’d managed to move to the edge of. When it ended, two minutes later, they sighed again and rubbed at their head.

“Divine revelations and all that. Kid, you really pissed off a god by coming here. And in their infinite wisdom and penchant for dramatic twists, my dear patron has finally seen fit to tell me why. So,” they pitched their voice louder, then made a ‘come hither’ gesture. “Alara, Beatrice. Get your butts over here.”

An older woman in a drab, black dress stepped up from a group of three. At the same time, the sphinx made her way over. On the way, she shifted. One second, she was a lion with the torso of a woman rising from its neck. The next, the cloth strips from her flanks were wrapped around a nearly human woman as a moderately scandalous dress, with no sign of the massive leonine bulk. Her wings were still there, folded neatly at her back, and pale fur still poked through the gaps in her clothes, but she had suddenly shrunken to just two legs in between blinks. She flashed me a small grin as she pulled out a chair to sit.

Her teeth were still a lion’s.

Mordo tapped the table, and a ring of purple light surrounded us. The fog and the smell and the hushed babble of conversation faded away.

“Hate to be official, kid. But no choice. This is now a tribunal.” They pulled the wine bottle off the floor, stuck a finger down into the cork like it was a marshmallow, and then took a long swig through the hole. “You brought what the Drunken God insists is a weapon into a ceasefire. More than that, they say it came from the Fae. That little brand on your hand is pretty fucking clear that you’ve gotten yourself a reputation and a geas. So, kindly, explain.”

I couldn’t meet any of their eyes. I just kept my face down – numb fingers fiddling with the bracelet. Its gems were cracked and it was still smoking, slightly. It felt…not dead, but close. There was just emptiness around it, but I felt more like me. Not even the brand was tingling – both were numb and nonresponsive. It smoked, but didn’t glow. That meant the guilt, the shame, all of it was my own as I told them the story.

I still stumbled over my words every now and then. More than when I told Mini. They didn’t ask questions, though the lady took notes.

Mordo was on their second bottle of wine before I finished. They did the same trick of pulling it to them from across the bar to throw me a water bottle when I started coughing partway through.

“Hell’s revels, kid. Everyone makes mistakes when they start, but fuck. My verdict is that the both of you were idiots. You screwed this up in just about the worst way possible, but bringing that thing here doesn’t constitute a crime.”

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Seconded.”

“Agreed.”

All three nodded, and a pressure that I hadn’t even noticed faded away, like the feel of something hard and cold pulling away from my neck.

“Now that the looming threat of divine retribution is out of the way, I’m gonna speak for all of us. Kid, we’ve got an interest in there being a living, stable Aufrey in town. Since you screwed your sister over, that means working with you. Welcome to magic – try not to fuck up again.”

I flinched at how bluntly they put it. I still couldn’t get a read on if they were a guy or a girl, which was weird for me. The moment I started to lean more to one side, it was like they shifted.

“Since your Old Man clearly didn’t tell you shit, guess we need introductions. I’m Mordo, High Reveler of the Cult of the Drunken God. Like a Pope that can fuck. These two lovely ladies are the other local powers.”

The lady in black was next. It took me a second to realize I recognized her. She looked so much older than I remembered, like she’d aged thirty years in a decade. Her face was a grim line.

“Hello again, Tamara. It’s good to see you healthy, unpleasant as the circumstances are. As current head of House Belmont, I extend my sincerest condolences for your loss. Regrettably, there was little we could do to prevent this. Despite his less-desirable qualities, the Grandmagus was of a rare breed. His hubris failed you and your sister, both, and the chaos that ensued has served none worth mentioning.”

The sphinx came next, golden eyes still slitted even though she looked human-ish now. Her voice was strangely familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“I am Alara of Pontus, daughter to Cynisca of Phrygia. I sit among the Eleven Prides as the Matriarch of Inquiry. Your grandfather has been both a peer and a role model throughout the centuries, and his loss will be felt for years to come. Missteps and all, we are in your debt for what you have done – the Archive has been restored and the world will remember.”

She smiled, covering her teeth with pink-painted lips. Then she raised a finger and her body changed again, yet another familiar face taking her place. Was every adult I knew magic?

“I maintain a role with the local college and was to be both your advisor and professor this autumn. It saddens me that, to hear your tale, you will be unlikely to attend.”

Fuck was that the truth. Mordo interrupted the thought with a clap.

“Ok! Now, since that thing on your wrist is pretty obviously cursed? I’ll put in a good word with the Boss and get you an exception, just so this doesn’t happen again. In the future, leave artifacts at home and don’t come armed for war. Seriously, breaking an oath-sealed truce like that is an even bigger mess when it’s intentional. Spare me the trouble, please. Since I’m the irresponsible one, it’s now my utmost pleasure to pawn the paperwork off on you three lovely ladies. Word to the wise, kid – if you’re gonna fuck up, leave a paper trail.”

Mordo stepped back, pulling a third bottle of wine as they stepped over toward a laughing cluster of people at one of the tables.

“What our host implies, child, is that your grandfather’s position was hereditary. As part of this council, you have responsibilities. Among which lies reporting disappearance such as that of your sister to avoid undue scrutiny, especially given the unique circumstances. There are forms to be filed with this nation’s authorities. In triplicate.”

Mrs. Belmont – Beatrice – said, “There will be a time and place to educate you. Given your current state – this is not it. We would like you to consent to an interrogation by the Matriarch, to ease the process. From what you have told us, the geas that our host’s patron identified appears to twine itself around the matter at hand. It will be simpler for us all if you submit.”

I didn’t like the wording of that. Or rather – I was worried for how much I liked it, between still feeling buzzed and the décor here.

Alara’s voice was soft. “As you might know, I am a sphinx. If you have not read of us; the old myths are partly true. We are beings of questions, truth, and riddles. As such, we bear certain instincts toward both liars and fools. Even those who answer with the whole truth may be ensnared if they are unwise. This works both ways, yet that is not a discussion for today.”

The fur returned to her body, and her pupils narrowed back into slits within solid rings of gold. With a solemn tone, she finished, “You have my oath that, in what follows, I will neither intend nor deal any harm to you. Should your geas be infringed upon, I will rephrase or abandon the questions. Is this clear, and do you consent?”

My mouth felt dry even after finishing my water. But I still nodded, twice.

“As often as is feasible, the questions will be answerable with a simple yes or no. When they are not, answer as briefly as you feel appropriate. Is this understood?”

I nodded again and made a concerted effort to focus on a spot just behind her shoulder. It was better than staring at her eyes, or her lips, or the barely covered things below them.

“Teresa Aufrey was taken by the Court of Ash?”

A nod. My gaze slid back before I realized it. They weren’t just gold, were they? There was more…

“Is she dead?”

I fumbled the no as my heart started to pound. Instead, squirming, I just shook my head.

“How long will she be ‘safe’, as related to you by the ‘Lady of Sighing Boughs’.”

“A…” My breath hitched and I swallowed hard. She looked so perfect. Her fur was shining, and her fingers were so soft as she tipped my head back up to her eyes. “A year and a day from Grandpa’s death.”

“Do you plan to save her?”

“Yes.” A nod wasn’t enough. Not for Teresa, not for her. I wasn’t…

Her claws dug into my palm, daintily avoiding the bloody crescents I’d left around the brand. When had she…

“Do you believe you can save her?”

I nodded, shakily, as my stomach lurched. She was frowning. Did I do something wrong?

“Did you receive anything in exchange for her capture?”

“No.”

I rushed the word out. Her free hand was on my face again, claws pressing into my cheekbones. “Do. Not. Lie.”

My voice cracked and I pressed my legs together. “A – a statue of her that follows me. A brand on my hand. A bracelet that shapeshifts and…messes with my head?”

My heard was beating so fast. She was so close…

She nodded once, then pulled her hand from mine and looked away. I fell back into my seat, breathing hard as my heart dropped back to a normal speed. Things came back into focus, slowly, but I couldn’t stop shaking, I felt so small. That feeling, it was…

The Sphinx didn’t meet my eyes. Beatrice was frowning off to the side, a pen in hand and carbon paper forms stacked lined up neatly in front of her.

“I will make arrangements with the college. Should you and your sister recover, you will be able to resume next autumn. Once again, my condolences.”

Then she was gone. And it felt like a part of me went with her. Mordo shuffled back in with more water and a steaming slice of pizza.

“Shit’s disorienting, right? Don’t worry – Alara’s not gonna use that to fuck with you. Or to fuck you – not that you seem to be worried about that.” They winked and I blushed and looked away. “Her Pride’s reformist. They’re a lot better at coexisting with humans and modern morality. And now for something so far from morality that even a demon wouldn’t touch it…the paperwork. Thought I forgot, didn’t ya?”

They passed it over, with a pen.

“PID form for a magical disappearance involving the Fae. Just needs a signature there at the bottom – even though it’s related to you, they want you to sign off. As far as the government’s concerned that Archive of yours is worth more than the rest of us combined – not that Beatrice here is happy about it, eh?”

Her frown deepened as Mordo leaned up, sinuously, against her chair.

“The PID?”

“Paranormal Incidents Division. You’ve seen Men in Black, right? Shit, if that was before your time I’m getting old. Anyway – they’re like that. Cover shit up, help the normies ignore magic, keep the peace, preserve national security…yadda yadda yadda. They might not like how independent we are, but nobody wants all this shit to go fully public. There’s a reason so much of humanity ignores it.”

I hadn’t even asked for help yet. This – it was all out of hand. I just wanted to get home and sleep off whatever this was. I could already feel the migraine building up as I passed the papers back.

“Good enough for government work. Now, time to get to the fucking meeting, almost two damn hours late!”

…fuck.