Post by Eurydice on Jun 23, 2007 13:34:53 GMT -5
((Long awaited by Sharky ^^; takes place (if I have the chronology worked out correctly) just over a year before "The Fall of Night."))
“In any case, Brother,” Cloche said, jabbing at him mockingly with a forkful of salad, “Amiel’s birthday is coming up. I hope you’ve bought her something.”
Lagoon shrank slightly in his seat. His first instinct would have been to turn to the other members of the six for support, but Amiel, Nolan, and Davin weren’t due back from their impromptu envoy for another two days. He glanced over at Maura, but she seemed to be only half listening, munching her dinner quietly and thinking on something. He was on his own.
He could already feel himself going red. “I… I have! Don’t worry about it.”
Cloche rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and shook her head, looking miffed. “How long are you going to keep up this charade? You’ve known her for Furon-knows-how-long and… and…” She saw that her brother wasn’t going to rise to the occasion, and with a dignified sniff, she waved dismissively. “Oh, forget it.” She turned to Maura, who was smiling into her drink, listening to the two. “My brother is impossible.”
“A common symptom of being male.”
Grateful to have the focus shifted for the moment, Lagoon gave her a look of mock indignation. “Not you too, Maura!”
Maura favored them both with a wry, resigned smile. “Surely you don’t think I’d disagree with the Queen?” She bowed shallowly.
This response elicited a delighted giggle from Cloche. She sat up regally and gave Maura and approving nod. “The queen recognizes your loyalty.” Nibbling on her salad, something else occurred to her, and she frowned. “However, the queen is most disappointed in your breaking our engagement today. We were supposed to have tea today with the headmistress, Maura.” She gave the young woman across from her a piercing glare. “Where were you? I was forced to make an excuse.”
Lagoon watched as Maura barely paused in drinking down a mouthful of wine. He wondered if he was imagining a brief flinch repress itself as she set down the glass. “I’m sorry,” said Maura. “I hope you conveyed my regrets.”
“Well,” Cloche replied, heaving a sigh, “I did, but… Maura, this isn’t the first time this has happened.” She leaned forward slightly, a concerned, searching look etched into her furrowed brow and blue-green eyes. “What’s gotten into you?”
Not what, thought Maura. Who. “I’m sorry, Cloche,” she said, her voice even and neutral, betraying nothing. “I must’ve just mixed up the date or something.”
“Actually,” said Lagoon, setting down his glass, tones guarded, “Maura, Davin did mention to me before he left that you’ve been, ah…” The flinch was definitely there; he saw her repress it again. “…disappearing, lately. And, uh, I don’t think he’s talking about invisibility spells either,” he added, hoping against hope to lighten the turn that the conversation seemed to have taken.
Maura forced a laugh. “He worries about me too much.”
“Well, I’m worried, too!” said Cloche, insistent and undeterred. (Look away, dammit, Maura thought, aching for the conversation to turn to any other topic. Stop looking at me like that. Please, stop.) “This isn’t like you, Maura. Is there something going on? Something we can help with?” Perhaps seeing some of the discomfort in Maura’s eyes, the pretty queen sat forward to cup Maura’s hands in her own. “We’re sisters in the order, you know.”
Managing another wan smile, Maura squeezed Cloche’s slender hand before withdrawing her own to rest folded in her lap. “I know, Cloche. And I appreciate the offer.” You don’t know how much. “I’m fine, though. Really.”
Cloche pulled back her hand and bit her lip. “…You’re lying…”
Maura’s expression hardened—Lagoon saw it, subtle but undeniable, and he saw that Cloche did not, even as Maura spoke again, her voice tinted with frost and danger. “I’m fine, Cloche.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know why you’re ly—”
“Cloche,” Lagoon said quietly, his gentle voice incisive, cutting her off unequivocally. “Leave it.”
Surprised, Cloche turned her eyes to her brother, as Maura looked back to her food and continued eating wordlessly.
It was so rare, even in training, that Lagoon ever seriously pulled rank on his sister that she sometimes forgot what it looked like, forgot that it was even possible for him to do. By that same rarity, though, she knew that he was only ever this insistent when it was something important, and although he might not always be entirely forthcoming about the reasons, it had long ago become evident that if he were to push, she would defer and worry about the specifics whenever it became convenient and appropriate. With this in mind, watching her brother’s calm, firm countenance which now somehow resembled that of their father, Cloche nodded.
Standing and gathering her plates into a neat pile, she paused to regard Maura, calmly tucking away at her dinner and drink. “I’m sorry, Maura. Perhaps I went too far.” She smiled a smile she wasn’t quite feeling. “I’m sure everything is fine.”
Maura looked up at Cloche, and Lagoon shivered slightly the vacant, empty-eyed smile with which she favored his sister. Again, he was fairly certain that Cloche didn’t notice, but Lagoon could easily see through the unsmiling eyes and thin pressed lips to the barrenness beneath, unnatural and all-consuming, some part and parcel of the swordswoman that was not quite right.
Cloche was setting her things down by the sink and starting for the door; she was clearly still curious, but she knew better than to try to force the issue. “Well, then. If you’ll excuse me, I’m rather tired. The headmistress’ wrath can sometimes be more terrible by my own.” She winked.
Maura was already starting up as well, stacking the empty platters on the table and arranging them haphazardly on her arm. “I can clean up here.”
On her way past, Cloche reached out to pull Maura into a hug which the other woman returned half-heartedly, one hand still occupied with bussing the table. “Good night, Lovely-Maura.”
“Hey,” called Lagoon. “No hug for me?”
“Good night, brother,” she said blandly with a regally dismissive wave of the hand as she sailed out the door. Lagoon watched her go and shook his head.
“No respect. None at all.” He sighed, wearing a mock-disapproving look. “The apprentice leaves the masters to clear the table!”
“Unthinkable, truly.” Maura, who had lost that creepy, ethereal, empty smile and was parked by the sink, careful hands turning over the plates and bowls, chuckled. Asriel, who had been curled up asleep under the table for most of dinner, sat up, stretched, and lumbered over to stand next to her, resting his chin on the counter and nosing the dirty dishes.
With a tired chuckle, Lagoon walked to her other side and pulled a towel out of the cabinet under the counter and started drying. “I’ll help you.”
They carried out the post-dinner chores in silence.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Lagoon asked after some time. Eyebrows raised, Maura nodded, and Lagoon lowered his voice, casting about just in case Cloche was hiding in the broom closet or some such. “…I haven’t gotten Amiel a present yet.”
Maura looked down into the soapy dishwater, hiding a smile.
Lagoon looked away slightly, secretly glad that Maura was at least looking a little less miserable, even though it was at his own expense. “I have no idea what to get her… without giving her the wrong idea.” He looked down quietly, absently wiping at one of the salad bowls. “You know… I mean, if it’s too expensive, what does that mean, right? But, if it’s too cheap, well then, that’s no good.”
He cleared his throat awkwardly, plunging on ahead. “I mean, I was at the jeweler’s the other day… just looking around,” he added firmly.
Maura raised an eyebrow and, with some effort, bit back a giggle. “Oh yes, of course.”
“There’s a necklace there. It’s really pretty: a silver and white wing with three diamonds.”
“And where, on the cheap-to-expensive scale, are we placing it?”
Lagoon’s lips quirked up into a crescent and he shook his head ruefully. “It’s, ah… I don’t think you could even put it on that scale…” He set the bowl down, a wistful glint in his eye. “It sure would look nice on her, though.”
Regarding him with a gentle smile, Maura passed him another pile of platters, excess water dribbling from them onto the countertop and catching the lamp light from the table and moonbeams from the window. “So,” she said casually, and she could feel Asriel chuffing a quiet laugh beside her as he leaned against her leg, “what kind of ‘wrong impression’ are you worried about giving?”
Lagoon blushed a deep, vibrant red. “Well, I mean… a present like that. What’s a girl supposed to think? She’ll think I…” He cleared his throat again noisily. “She’ll think I’m… that I’m…” He caught Maura’s probing glance and sighed, defeated.
“Seems like you’re not so much worried about giving the wrong impression as giving the exactly right impression.”
Heavy silence settled again for a long, full beat. Lagoon looked as if he were steeling himself for confessing to some horrible crime, or as if he were watching some adorable baby animal being butchered. “I should tell her I love her, shouldn’t I?
“Probably,” Maura replied, without laughing or mocking.
“Probably,” echoed Lagoon, opening an overhead cabinet and sliding the plates to the back. “I guess it’s not good to keep things bottled up.”
Maura passed him another dish, looking non-committal. “Mmm.”
“…Especially where people you care about are concerned,” Lagoon added, casually examining his reflection in the soapy water clinging to the contours of the bowl with colorful bubbles. His free hand brushed back a strand of pale hair, and he glanced over at her, smiling kindly. “Right?”
The hands working in the dish water slowed to a halt, wrists coming to rest on the edge of the sink. Maura looked down at them, dully surprised that they weren’t trembling, that she wasn’t blushing, that the blood wasn’t draining away from her face. She was untouched, totally numb. She wondered, for a moment, whether it would even be possible for her to feel anything right now, but she didn’t quite know what she ought to feel. Nothing was enough; nothing was appropriate. A smile tried to plaster itself onto her face, but she knew it was just as empty as the one she’d worn earlier, and it faded just as quickly. She looked away, vaguely aware that Lagoon was speaking again.
“You don’t have to tell us, Maura. But do you remember what I said that night we found Davin?” He rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezed lightly. “You’re family.”
Maura nodded, her jaw set.
Forcing himself not to force anything, Lagoon turned back to the towel and the dish.
For her part, Maura had not gone back to washing the dishes, and she had not turned back to face Lagoon. She had to say something about this to someone, and she knew it, and she knew full well that she if she didn’t say it now, there was no telling when she’d be able to later. The topic wasn’t just going to open itself up and unwrap itself like a neatly packaged birthday present. She had to talk.
Normally, Maura never minded sharing her thoughts, especially with her close friends. Now, the words just stuck in her throat.
Asriel looked at her and, sensing her wishes, nuzzled her arm and trotted out of the room; she heard his footfalls soft on the stairs. Eyes rooted to the sink, she spoke. “This cannot leave this room. Please.”
She could feel Lagoon’s eyes on her, piercing, keen, disarming. “You have my word, as the Grand Master of this order of Six Swords.” He gave a fractional smile. “I’ll even go as far as keeping it a secret in this room, too.”
A short laugh was all she could manage. Maura turned to look at him, feeling, inexplicably, incredibly tired as she spoke, unable to quite bring her eyes to meet his. “You remember that day at Frost Reach, when…” She bit her lip, couldn’t quite make herself say the dead woman’s name, for names had power, always. “…when the Chaos Herald took over my body?”
Lagoon thought a moment. “There was a lot going on… but yes.”
“Well, it’s…” She took a breath, closed her eyes, as if not seeing Lagoon there watching her, hanging on her next words, would mean that he wasn’t actually there, that she was making this confession to no one. “It’s been happening again. Well,” she amended, “it’s happened occasionally since then, but it’s been happening more frequently now, and it’s getting harder to keep track of when it happens, and…” And the words just stopped coming again. Maura looked down again, still feeling that oddly numb quasi-paralysis. There was nothing for her to feel, no guilt, no fear, no desire to do something more.
Disbelief and concern played out, battling for dominance in Lagoon’s mind. “By the Goddess herself…” He put an arm around Maura, skin cold, stance stiff as a board, and gently steered her towards a plush armchair in the adjoining room. Her face was blank as she sat, like a pupil about to be chastised for some grave wrongdoing. “What is…” Lagoon took a breath, somewhat at a loss for words. “What’s she making you do?”
Maura had bleakly wondered the same thing. “Most of what I remember is trivial: finding out names of people, information on them. Her former followers mostly, I think. It’s… it’s hazy, though.” She shook her head. “I remember most of what I do, but it’s the same way you remember a dream: so many of the specifics are missing.”
“I don’t think she’s made me do anything really terribly harmful,” she added, after a moment.
The memories of their time at Frost Reach coming back more readily, Lagoon recalled the way that Maura, possessed by Angelina years ago, had effortlessly killed the boy caster who threatened them with fire, plague, and cursed spirit. “But… she could?”
“Yes,” said Maura.
He could plainly see her furrowed brow and troubled spirit; there was something more that she hadn’t shared. But another moment, and it was gone. She wouldn’t speak of it, and he knew he couldn’t force her to do so; all he could do was sit there beside her, taking it all in, wondering what measures could be taken now. “Is there anything you can do? Maybe talk to Lady Ranial?”
Maura shook her head vehemently. “She’s already had to deal with this once; nothing will be gained by making her go through it again.”
Lagoon watched her, stewing in helplessness. He too wanted to be able to do something, anything, but nothing realistically feasible was coming to him. He exhaled deeply, a hand running through his hair. “If she does make you start harming people…”
He couldn’t finish the thought. Maura saw the conflict playing out behind his eyes, and, with a shiver, turned away. Lagoon tried again. “I think that… we should keep track of what she’s making you do. Maybe if you write down whatever you remember… after she stops… we might be able to figure out what she’s trying to do…”
And if we already know what she’s trying to do? If it’s just the same thing, the only thing that Angie’s spirit has ever been known to work towards with any consistency? Maura shook off the bitter mental rant, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. It was so hard to focus. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, some sliver of Angelina was trying to tempt her away from thinking on all this, but she pushed it down. “I’d like to keep track of it, but…” She took a breath. “Sometimes, I don’t come out of it for a while, and when I do, I’m usually confused, disoriented; hell, I didn’t even remember that meeting I missed with Cloche, and I’ve been back for most of the afternoon.”
Lagoon nodded, his face a mask of reluctant resignation, and neither of them spoke again for some time. “If this gets bad,” Lagoon said, and then stopped, desperately not wanting to face what was undoubtedly inevitable.
“If it gets bad,” Maura picked up softly, “then I hope that you can stop me.”
He stared at her, his eyes reflecting the grim acceptance in hers. “If it gets bad, I’ll do what I have to do as the Grand Master of this Order.” A compassionate hand reached out to grasp hers as a sad, tired smile ghosted across his face. “You’re family, Maura. I’ll do what I have to do to take care of my family.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
Silence reigned once more, heavy with the desperation of the situation and the relief of its finally being voiced. At long last, Lagoon sat forward, stood and pulled Maura to her feet. “I think some rest is in order, ‘disciple.’ Come on.” He grinned. I need to get up early if I’m going to go to the jeweler’s tomorrow. Just to look around, of course. You can come with me.”
Maura linked her arm with his with a jaunty flourish. “I’d like that.”
“By the way,” Lagoon deadpanned, “can I borrow some money from you?”
“That much of a right impression, huh?”
Lagoon winked as they headed out towards the staircase. “It’s not good to keep things bottled up…”
“In any case, Brother,” Cloche said, jabbing at him mockingly with a forkful of salad, “Amiel’s birthday is coming up. I hope you’ve bought her something.”
Lagoon shrank slightly in his seat. His first instinct would have been to turn to the other members of the six for support, but Amiel, Nolan, and Davin weren’t due back from their impromptu envoy for another two days. He glanced over at Maura, but she seemed to be only half listening, munching her dinner quietly and thinking on something. He was on his own.
He could already feel himself going red. “I… I have! Don’t worry about it.”
Cloche rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and shook her head, looking miffed. “How long are you going to keep up this charade? You’ve known her for Furon-knows-how-long and… and…” She saw that her brother wasn’t going to rise to the occasion, and with a dignified sniff, she waved dismissively. “Oh, forget it.” She turned to Maura, who was smiling into her drink, listening to the two. “My brother is impossible.”
“A common symptom of being male.”
Grateful to have the focus shifted for the moment, Lagoon gave her a look of mock indignation. “Not you too, Maura!”
Maura favored them both with a wry, resigned smile. “Surely you don’t think I’d disagree with the Queen?” She bowed shallowly.
This response elicited a delighted giggle from Cloche. She sat up regally and gave Maura and approving nod. “The queen recognizes your loyalty.” Nibbling on her salad, something else occurred to her, and she frowned. “However, the queen is most disappointed in your breaking our engagement today. We were supposed to have tea today with the headmistress, Maura.” She gave the young woman across from her a piercing glare. “Where were you? I was forced to make an excuse.”
Lagoon watched as Maura barely paused in drinking down a mouthful of wine. He wondered if he was imagining a brief flinch repress itself as she set down the glass. “I’m sorry,” said Maura. “I hope you conveyed my regrets.”
“Well,” Cloche replied, heaving a sigh, “I did, but… Maura, this isn’t the first time this has happened.” She leaned forward slightly, a concerned, searching look etched into her furrowed brow and blue-green eyes. “What’s gotten into you?”
Not what, thought Maura. Who. “I’m sorry, Cloche,” she said, her voice even and neutral, betraying nothing. “I must’ve just mixed up the date or something.”
“Actually,” said Lagoon, setting down his glass, tones guarded, “Maura, Davin did mention to me before he left that you’ve been, ah…” The flinch was definitely there; he saw her repress it again. “…disappearing, lately. And, uh, I don’t think he’s talking about invisibility spells either,” he added, hoping against hope to lighten the turn that the conversation seemed to have taken.
Maura forced a laugh. “He worries about me too much.”
“Well, I’m worried, too!” said Cloche, insistent and undeterred. (Look away, dammit, Maura thought, aching for the conversation to turn to any other topic. Stop looking at me like that. Please, stop.) “This isn’t like you, Maura. Is there something going on? Something we can help with?” Perhaps seeing some of the discomfort in Maura’s eyes, the pretty queen sat forward to cup Maura’s hands in her own. “We’re sisters in the order, you know.”
Managing another wan smile, Maura squeezed Cloche’s slender hand before withdrawing her own to rest folded in her lap. “I know, Cloche. And I appreciate the offer.” You don’t know how much. “I’m fine, though. Really.”
Cloche pulled back her hand and bit her lip. “…You’re lying…”
Maura’s expression hardened—Lagoon saw it, subtle but undeniable, and he saw that Cloche did not, even as Maura spoke again, her voice tinted with frost and danger. “I’m fine, Cloche.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know why you’re ly—”
“Cloche,” Lagoon said quietly, his gentle voice incisive, cutting her off unequivocally. “Leave it.”
Surprised, Cloche turned her eyes to her brother, as Maura looked back to her food and continued eating wordlessly.
It was so rare, even in training, that Lagoon ever seriously pulled rank on his sister that she sometimes forgot what it looked like, forgot that it was even possible for him to do. By that same rarity, though, she knew that he was only ever this insistent when it was something important, and although he might not always be entirely forthcoming about the reasons, it had long ago become evident that if he were to push, she would defer and worry about the specifics whenever it became convenient and appropriate. With this in mind, watching her brother’s calm, firm countenance which now somehow resembled that of their father, Cloche nodded.
Standing and gathering her plates into a neat pile, she paused to regard Maura, calmly tucking away at her dinner and drink. “I’m sorry, Maura. Perhaps I went too far.” She smiled a smile she wasn’t quite feeling. “I’m sure everything is fine.”
Maura looked up at Cloche, and Lagoon shivered slightly the vacant, empty-eyed smile with which she favored his sister. Again, he was fairly certain that Cloche didn’t notice, but Lagoon could easily see through the unsmiling eyes and thin pressed lips to the barrenness beneath, unnatural and all-consuming, some part and parcel of the swordswoman that was not quite right.
Cloche was setting her things down by the sink and starting for the door; she was clearly still curious, but she knew better than to try to force the issue. “Well, then. If you’ll excuse me, I’m rather tired. The headmistress’ wrath can sometimes be more terrible by my own.” She winked.
Maura was already starting up as well, stacking the empty platters on the table and arranging them haphazardly on her arm. “I can clean up here.”
On her way past, Cloche reached out to pull Maura into a hug which the other woman returned half-heartedly, one hand still occupied with bussing the table. “Good night, Lovely-Maura.”
“Hey,” called Lagoon. “No hug for me?”
“Good night, brother,” she said blandly with a regally dismissive wave of the hand as she sailed out the door. Lagoon watched her go and shook his head.
“No respect. None at all.” He sighed, wearing a mock-disapproving look. “The apprentice leaves the masters to clear the table!”
“Unthinkable, truly.” Maura, who had lost that creepy, ethereal, empty smile and was parked by the sink, careful hands turning over the plates and bowls, chuckled. Asriel, who had been curled up asleep under the table for most of dinner, sat up, stretched, and lumbered over to stand next to her, resting his chin on the counter and nosing the dirty dishes.
With a tired chuckle, Lagoon walked to her other side and pulled a towel out of the cabinet under the counter and started drying. “I’ll help you.”
They carried out the post-dinner chores in silence.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Lagoon asked after some time. Eyebrows raised, Maura nodded, and Lagoon lowered his voice, casting about just in case Cloche was hiding in the broom closet or some such. “…I haven’t gotten Amiel a present yet.”
Maura looked down into the soapy dishwater, hiding a smile.
Lagoon looked away slightly, secretly glad that Maura was at least looking a little less miserable, even though it was at his own expense. “I have no idea what to get her… without giving her the wrong idea.” He looked down quietly, absently wiping at one of the salad bowls. “You know… I mean, if it’s too expensive, what does that mean, right? But, if it’s too cheap, well then, that’s no good.”
He cleared his throat awkwardly, plunging on ahead. “I mean, I was at the jeweler’s the other day… just looking around,” he added firmly.
Maura raised an eyebrow and, with some effort, bit back a giggle. “Oh yes, of course.”
“There’s a necklace there. It’s really pretty: a silver and white wing with three diamonds.”
“And where, on the cheap-to-expensive scale, are we placing it?”
Lagoon’s lips quirked up into a crescent and he shook his head ruefully. “It’s, ah… I don’t think you could even put it on that scale…” He set the bowl down, a wistful glint in his eye. “It sure would look nice on her, though.”
Regarding him with a gentle smile, Maura passed him another pile of platters, excess water dribbling from them onto the countertop and catching the lamp light from the table and moonbeams from the window. “So,” she said casually, and she could feel Asriel chuffing a quiet laugh beside her as he leaned against her leg, “what kind of ‘wrong impression’ are you worried about giving?”
Lagoon blushed a deep, vibrant red. “Well, I mean… a present like that. What’s a girl supposed to think? She’ll think I…” He cleared his throat again noisily. “She’ll think I’m… that I’m…” He caught Maura’s probing glance and sighed, defeated.
“Seems like you’re not so much worried about giving the wrong impression as giving the exactly right impression.”
Heavy silence settled again for a long, full beat. Lagoon looked as if he were steeling himself for confessing to some horrible crime, or as if he were watching some adorable baby animal being butchered. “I should tell her I love her, shouldn’t I?
“Probably,” Maura replied, without laughing or mocking.
“Probably,” echoed Lagoon, opening an overhead cabinet and sliding the plates to the back. “I guess it’s not good to keep things bottled up.”
Maura passed him another dish, looking non-committal. “Mmm.”
“…Especially where people you care about are concerned,” Lagoon added, casually examining his reflection in the soapy water clinging to the contours of the bowl with colorful bubbles. His free hand brushed back a strand of pale hair, and he glanced over at her, smiling kindly. “Right?”
The hands working in the dish water slowed to a halt, wrists coming to rest on the edge of the sink. Maura looked down at them, dully surprised that they weren’t trembling, that she wasn’t blushing, that the blood wasn’t draining away from her face. She was untouched, totally numb. She wondered, for a moment, whether it would even be possible for her to feel anything right now, but she didn’t quite know what she ought to feel. Nothing was enough; nothing was appropriate. A smile tried to plaster itself onto her face, but she knew it was just as empty as the one she’d worn earlier, and it faded just as quickly. She looked away, vaguely aware that Lagoon was speaking again.
“You don’t have to tell us, Maura. But do you remember what I said that night we found Davin?” He rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezed lightly. “You’re family.”
Maura nodded, her jaw set.
Forcing himself not to force anything, Lagoon turned back to the towel and the dish.
For her part, Maura had not gone back to washing the dishes, and she had not turned back to face Lagoon. She had to say something about this to someone, and she knew it, and she knew full well that she if she didn’t say it now, there was no telling when she’d be able to later. The topic wasn’t just going to open itself up and unwrap itself like a neatly packaged birthday present. She had to talk.
Normally, Maura never minded sharing her thoughts, especially with her close friends. Now, the words just stuck in her throat.
Asriel looked at her and, sensing her wishes, nuzzled her arm and trotted out of the room; she heard his footfalls soft on the stairs. Eyes rooted to the sink, she spoke. “This cannot leave this room. Please.”
She could feel Lagoon’s eyes on her, piercing, keen, disarming. “You have my word, as the Grand Master of this order of Six Swords.” He gave a fractional smile. “I’ll even go as far as keeping it a secret in this room, too.”
A short laugh was all she could manage. Maura turned to look at him, feeling, inexplicably, incredibly tired as she spoke, unable to quite bring her eyes to meet his. “You remember that day at Frost Reach, when…” She bit her lip, couldn’t quite make herself say the dead woman’s name, for names had power, always. “…when the Chaos Herald took over my body?”
Lagoon thought a moment. “There was a lot going on… but yes.”
“Well, it’s…” She took a breath, closed her eyes, as if not seeing Lagoon there watching her, hanging on her next words, would mean that he wasn’t actually there, that she was making this confession to no one. “It’s been happening again. Well,” she amended, “it’s happened occasionally since then, but it’s been happening more frequently now, and it’s getting harder to keep track of when it happens, and…” And the words just stopped coming again. Maura looked down again, still feeling that oddly numb quasi-paralysis. There was nothing for her to feel, no guilt, no fear, no desire to do something more.
Disbelief and concern played out, battling for dominance in Lagoon’s mind. “By the Goddess herself…” He put an arm around Maura, skin cold, stance stiff as a board, and gently steered her towards a plush armchair in the adjoining room. Her face was blank as she sat, like a pupil about to be chastised for some grave wrongdoing. “What is…” Lagoon took a breath, somewhat at a loss for words. “What’s she making you do?”
Maura had bleakly wondered the same thing. “Most of what I remember is trivial: finding out names of people, information on them. Her former followers mostly, I think. It’s… it’s hazy, though.” She shook her head. “I remember most of what I do, but it’s the same way you remember a dream: so many of the specifics are missing.”
“I don’t think she’s made me do anything really terribly harmful,” she added, after a moment.
The memories of their time at Frost Reach coming back more readily, Lagoon recalled the way that Maura, possessed by Angelina years ago, had effortlessly killed the boy caster who threatened them with fire, plague, and cursed spirit. “But… she could?”
“Yes,” said Maura.
He could plainly see her furrowed brow and troubled spirit; there was something more that she hadn’t shared. But another moment, and it was gone. She wouldn’t speak of it, and he knew he couldn’t force her to do so; all he could do was sit there beside her, taking it all in, wondering what measures could be taken now. “Is there anything you can do? Maybe talk to Lady Ranial?”
Maura shook her head vehemently. “She’s already had to deal with this once; nothing will be gained by making her go through it again.”
Lagoon watched her, stewing in helplessness. He too wanted to be able to do something, anything, but nothing realistically feasible was coming to him. He exhaled deeply, a hand running through his hair. “If she does make you start harming people…”
He couldn’t finish the thought. Maura saw the conflict playing out behind his eyes, and, with a shiver, turned away. Lagoon tried again. “I think that… we should keep track of what she’s making you do. Maybe if you write down whatever you remember… after she stops… we might be able to figure out what she’s trying to do…”
And if we already know what she’s trying to do? If it’s just the same thing, the only thing that Angie’s spirit has ever been known to work towards with any consistency? Maura shook off the bitter mental rant, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. It was so hard to focus. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, some sliver of Angelina was trying to tempt her away from thinking on all this, but she pushed it down. “I’d like to keep track of it, but…” She took a breath. “Sometimes, I don’t come out of it for a while, and when I do, I’m usually confused, disoriented; hell, I didn’t even remember that meeting I missed with Cloche, and I’ve been back for most of the afternoon.”
Lagoon nodded, his face a mask of reluctant resignation, and neither of them spoke again for some time. “If this gets bad,” Lagoon said, and then stopped, desperately not wanting to face what was undoubtedly inevitable.
“If it gets bad,” Maura picked up softly, “then I hope that you can stop me.”
He stared at her, his eyes reflecting the grim acceptance in hers. “If it gets bad, I’ll do what I have to do as the Grand Master of this Order.” A compassionate hand reached out to grasp hers as a sad, tired smile ghosted across his face. “You’re family, Maura. I’ll do what I have to do to take care of my family.”
She squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”
Silence reigned once more, heavy with the desperation of the situation and the relief of its finally being voiced. At long last, Lagoon sat forward, stood and pulled Maura to her feet. “I think some rest is in order, ‘disciple.’ Come on.” He grinned. I need to get up early if I’m going to go to the jeweler’s tomorrow. Just to look around, of course. You can come with me.”
Maura linked her arm with his with a jaunty flourish. “I’d like that.”
“By the way,” Lagoon deadpanned, “can I borrow some money from you?”
“That much of a right impression, huh?”
Lagoon winked as they headed out towards the staircase. “It’s not good to keep things bottled up…”
