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TheDevilsTrick — Privateer Chapter 85
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Published: 2023-09-03 15:20:26 +0000 UTC; Views: 2183; Favourites: 10; Downloads: 0
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[Way Down We Go]
Lydia strolled behind Del’Moth, easily keeping pace with its short frame. In the back of her mind, she was running through possibilities, other angles, other ways she could resolve the situation. Then she ran out of time. They walked through a section of the library, lit by luminescent pillars and seemingly built from sapphire, and suddenly came to a stop, Del’Moth staring down an empty elevator shaft.
“You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?” it smirked at her.
“It’s down there then?”
“I can feel it,” Del’Moth nodded, “Home…glorious chaos waiting to be unleashed…” it turned and snickered at the worried expression twisting Lydia’s face, “Are you worrying about yourself, or that pitiful whelp you sold your soul over?”
“Our deal wasn’t that I should sit here and listen to you belittle my family for your own amusement.”
“No, but it did involve you doing what you’re told,” it leered back at her, then laughed as it stepped back into the empty shaft, floating in mid-air, “So…hold the line dear, we’ll have plenty more to talk about when I get back, and, if you’re not here, well, then, I suppose I could take up the conversation with …Dearest Penelope.”
Lightning sparked from her fingertips, but Lydia managed to keep her silence, snuffing the energy and calling it back. She turned to the room and tried to pick her spot to start the ambush.
Clyde and Sylvester walked down a long and winding staircase when Sylvester was suddenly hit with an inexplicable sense of vertigo. He paused, leaning against the railing as he tried to catch his breath.
“Did…did you feel that?” he wondered, shaking his head to clear the sensation.
“No,” Clyde responded bluntly, clearly glaring back at him.
“Yeah…” Sylvester sighed, “You’re still upset about…”
“Yes I am,” Clyde snapped, “Are you going to be long, because I can go on ahead.”
“Do you think I’m enjoying this?! They’re my friends! And I know them a damn sight better than you do!”
“When you’re done screaming,” Clyde responded with clear irritation, moving past him and walking down the staircase, “Pick up your feet.”
Sylvester took a few moments longer to get his head back together, then followed Clyde deeper into the library.
In the upper levels of the library, Belix was laying on the floor, spitting up a mouthful of blood as her opponent, the man who called himself Fools Gold, stood over her, emptying the unused bullet from a rifle he had recently ripped from her hands. They made a heavy metallic clunk as they dropped to the ground, right in front of her and she glared up at him as they fell.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Fool insisted, tossing the weapon across the room.
“Then hold still!” Belix swinging her leg up to kick him in the abdomen.
He easily caught her foot, but she used it as leverage, spinning her body and slamming her heel into his head. While he was reeling from the attack, she shot him in the gut with one of her pistols. He barely seemed to notice the injury, if anything, it woke him up, got him to focus. He punted the weapon out of her hand and went for his own gun. Belix scraped up the bullets from the floor with her right hand and rolled out of the way as he fired. She circled around him, trying to find an opening, or at least throw off his aim, and threaded the bullets between her fingers.
He drew his second weapon to keep her at bay as the first clicked empty. Fool, hit a switch on the handle of his empty revolver, and the entire cylinder snapped loose from the frame and bounced across the floor. He slapped the empty frame against his belt and hit the switch again, pulling away with a full cylinder and a loaded weapon in both hands.
Belix bided her time, taking shots when she got the chance, but analyzing him the whole time, getting a better feel for his methodology, his equipment. Staying close was her only option, mitigating his skill with the revolvers, but only mitigating. Even if he couldn’t shoot them effectively, he was just as deadly with them as cudgels. The fight had been going on for minutes now, and nothing had changed, he was still just toying with her, not taking her seriously. Despite it all, she smiled, she was starting to figure him out.
She got close enough to get him in a clench, and stole one of the cylinders from his belt. Then, when he threw her across the room, Belix kept her distance, bouncing from side to side, baiting him to shoot. Eventually, one f his weapons clicked empty and he ejected the cylinder like before, but when he moved to replace it, found nothing there. That one second, that one single moment was her opportunity, she hurled the pilfered cylinder at his face, breaking his nose. Rushing him, Belix pulled her last remaining pistols and pressed them against his chin.
Fool was faster than she had anticipated, grabbed her hands, and pushed the barrels to the sides of his head. With the guns aimed in a safer direction, he did everything he could to drop her, kicks to the legs, knees to the gut, headbutting her hard enough to knock her stocking cap off. Belix absorbed the blows, blocking as many as she could, then fired her guns, emptying their bullet wells and heating up the barrels as she shoved them into his neck. The flesh sizzled and he screamed, finally whirling her around and throwing Belix, once again.
He was busy checking the damage, but as soon as she hit the ground, Belix was running again. Fool saw her move and charged after, managing to tackle her, but not before she reached her rifle. She turned over as he tried to pin her, and cracked the butt of the riffle against his head. While he was still reeling, she loaded one of the bullets she had managed to hold onto, and fired, blasting a hole in the side of his skull. He staggered for a moment, then collapsed. Belix followed suit, letting her muscles relax and recover against the cold stone floor, then she stood up, collected another bullet from the floor and put another bullet into Fool’s head.
She took a few seconds longer to examine his body, making certain he was dead, then loaded up her rifle with whatever ammo she could find before slinging it across her back. Belix then set about looting the body of her conquest, specifically searching for any remaining bombs he might still have, but, coming up empty handed, she instead chose to focus on his ammo belt. The cylinders he used for spare bullets were different than she expected, the ammo itself thinner, nothing she could use in her own guns, but the golden revolvers were still there, laying on the ground. Collecting the pair, she examined them as well, there was an element about them which she didn’t quite understand, something mechanical, it was how the cylinders were latched and ejected.
After experimenting with them for a bit, firing off a few rounds to get the feel for them, she sheathed them in her empty pistol holsters and started towards the exit. She was halfway there, wondering if the ice block Sylvester had place in her way had melted yet, when a voice suddenly barked out at her.
“Excuse me, Miss?” it called out to her and she turned to see the construct flickering from over a ruined pedestal, “Might I have a word?”
Tilting her head curiously, she walked over to the damaged construct and waited for it to respond.
“You know, it’s usually good manners to introduce yourself…” it started but Belix merely shook her head.
“There’s a blockage on the stairs, can you help me clear it?” she demanded.
“Straight to the point then?” it asked, then let out an audible sigh, “I can,” it insisted, “But first, I need to know, who the Hells are you?”
“A crazy bitch with a few guns.”
“And you think that can help you defeat Del’Moth?”
She paused, glaring back at it as the construct dipped in and out of the visible spectrum.
“I admire your passion Mao,” it continued softly, “The truth is, you’re dealing with a very much reduced version of the demon, you might actually have a chance, but, not with those weapons.”
“You have a better option I take it?” she grumbled, folding her arms.
“Matter of fact, I do,” it flickered to life for a moment, then waved its hand, causing a series of red lights to erupt from the ground, “Follow these, they will lead you to a weapon capable of sealing the beast.”
“I’m not here to seal it,” she snapped, and walked in the opposite direction, “I want it dead.”
“Don’t you think the Great Sage would have done that if he could?” it shouted after her, then screamed, “WAIT!!”
“For what?” she demanded.
“If you won’t take the staff, grant me this one kindness, and at least tell me that you have a plan!”
Belix rolled her eyes and kept walking.
“Do it and I’ll clear the ice blockage,” it offered, “Could save you a solid hour at least…”
With a groan, she finally stopped and turned around. While admitting that she didn’t know the plan in its totality, she did her best to explain what she had gleaned from their conversations. When she had finished, silence reigned throughout the hall.
Down below, Clyde and Sylvester had finally reached the Sapphire room and, spying nothing else in the area to draw their attention, began to inspect the elevator shaft. Sylvester held out his hand and dropped a chunk of ice into the hole, wincing as every second passed before he could hear it hit the bottom.
“Yeah…” he muttered, stroking his chin, “Pretty deep.”
“Are we just supposed to jump down this?” Clyde demanded, then examined the gilded spiders clinging to the backs of his hand, “I mean, I could probably take it in a few quick hops, but…even then, we’re talking about building up some serious terminal velocity.”
“I could make a slide along the walls, maybe slow our decent?”
“Same problem,” Clyde mentioned.
Desperately, he started looking around only to finally notice Lydia standing off to the side. She smiled and waved, pleasantly enough, and he pulled a knife on her.
“You go on ahead,” he advised, advancing on the old witch, “I’ll take care of this…”
“There’s a console over there,” Lydia pointed to a pillar beside the pit, “There’s a section of the wall that slides open, an orb inside, probably meant to activate for you, damn sure won’t do anything for me.”
As Clyde walked inexorably forward, Sylvester reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, pulling him to a confused halt. After disappearing behind the pillar in question, a bright green light filled the area, and a platform stood at the ready. Sylvester walked out from behind the column and stepped between Clyd and Lydia.
“Get on,” Sylvester insisted coldly.
Clyde could only blink in surprise, but he quickly found his voice.
“What the fuck are you thinking?!” he demanded harshly.
“Yeah, gotta agree with him,” Lydia admitted, “This is a pretty stupid move.”
“THIS,” Sylvester growled back at her, “Is personal.”
“What the fuck do I care?!” Clyde snapped, “I can’t stop that thing alone, you’re supposed to…”
“And I will,” Sylvester mentioned as he turned away to face Lydia, “Just hold the line for me, this won’t take long.”
Clyde shook his head incredulously and fumed over it for a moment before finally turning away and stepping onto the glowing platform that immediately started taking him down. They both heard him cursing under his breath and Lydia let out a little chuckle.
“He seems like a real sweet guy actually,” she mentioned, then dismissively waved the comment away, “It’s too bad you’re all going to die down here.”
“Why,” Sylvester growled at her.
“Um…because somebody’s going to kill you?” she answered curiously, “I thought that part was obvious.”
“Dammit, why did you betray us?!” he demanded, ice spires forming around his feet as he clenched his fists in rage, “Why did you…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know what you were asking,” Lydia grumbled, stuffing her hands in her pockets and pacing around the room, “But, come on kid, is it really that hard to figure out?”
While she was desperately trying to avoid him, he snatched up one of the ice spikes and slammed it against the floor, creating a wall of jagged spears that blocked her path. Reluctantly she stopped, but stared pointedly at the floor.
“Look me in the eye,” he snarled, “And tell me!”
“…Gods…” she complained, shaking her head, “You’re really gonna drag this out of me aren’t you…”
“Why?” he repeated the demand.
With a wave of her hand, she sent a cascade of lightning into the spikes, shattering away a huge section of the wall, but, she didn’t walk through it. Reluctantly, she turned to face him, a weary, sad smile twisting her face, the look alone was almost enough to turn his heart, but, he remained steadfast, he waited for her answer.
“It’s not that hard to parse together kid,” Lydia sighed, “I’m a mother, I’m in league with a demon, and I’m helping it destroy the world, why do you think I’m doing it?”
“For Penelope then?”
“Partly,” she shrugged, then added sincerely, “I want to make this clear though, I am not, nor have I ever been, a good person, I gave…everything to my studies, to my…” Lydia paused to wipe away a tear, “Then, my Penelope got sick and I…” she tried to staunch the crying by squeezing her eyes shut, but the tears wouldn’t stop flowing, dripping down her cheeks and over her chin, “I couldn’t save her…all my knowledge, all my power…and …the one life I actually cared about…” she turned her head and looked away, trying to save herself some dignity, “I was useless.”
Sylvester kept his silence, merely watching as Lydia cleaned her face.
“The demon had gotten loose, part of it anyway,” she continued on, her voice breaking, “A long time ago, when your…’patron’ left her post, the essence of it had traveled hither and yon, making offers, and deals where it could…I summoned it,” she admitted darkly, “While I was watching my daughter breathe her last, I summoned the beast, and you know what,” she let out a mad giggle, “I’d do it all over again.”
“So, you’ve just been playing us, Me especially.”
“No,” Lydia rolled her eyes, finally regaining some of her composure, “That was just a weird coincidence, it’s a small island after all, these things happen, of course you did play right into my hands, I just…didn’t have to mastermind it, you know.”
Sylvester glared at her, unable to find his words or respond in any significant way, so, he just glared at her.
“…you were my friend,” was all he finally managed to say.
“Yeah,” she nodded, that sad smile on her face again, tears threatening to return, “You don’t know…how much it kills me kid, I really did like you, I wanted you to…” she sighed, sadly, “I prayed, Me, the woman who defiles God’s territory, I Prayed, that you’d come up with something, that you’d…that you could figure a way out…”
“You don’t think the plan will work,” he surmised.
“Kid,” she shook her head as she spoke, “If I thought it had a chance in Hell I wouldn’t be standing here.”
“Theoretically…”
“Yeah, funny thing about theories, they’re untested, otherwise they’d be rules, laws, proven,” pacing the room again, circling him, “I dragged my feet as long as I could, but I’d already had the signal, by the end of the day, I was going to tell you about a rite, or a ritual, make something up to get us moving again.”
“It could work,” he insisted, “It CAN work!”
“…” Lydia stopped walking and stared at the floor, morosely, “I am so…so sorry about all this,” she clenched her fists sending sparks of energy in all directions, “But you were never going to win this one anyway.”
“…and what if you’re wrong?!” Sylvester demanded, “IF it works, if I go down there, if I do the impossible, and I walk back out again,” a note of sadness tinged his voice as he finished, “What then?”
Lydia hanged her head, illuminated by the lightning, she shed one more tear, one last tear.
“…then Del’Moth killed me,” she whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the crackling of electricity, then defiantly, she raised her head, “That’s what you’ll tell her, do you understand?”
“…yes,” Sylvester nodded, then raised his ice staff, “Whenever you’re ready.”
Clyde stood on the translucent platform, shaking with rage, until he realized it was fear making his body shudder. He wanted to scream, he was so lost, so alone, so…unbelievably frustrated. Despising the idea of abandoning his friends, hating the situation, desperately wishing that things were different, his mind drifted, he was home, Maggie sat beside him, his mother gave them some tea, and she smiled.
Covering his eyes with his right hand, Clyde took several deep breaths and did his best to collect himself. He clenched the tears in his palm, and whispered an oath into them.
“Be there, when I return,” he whispered, and pulled the three cornered hat down over his brow, “I will return…”
Head down, meditating, the world, the light, everything drifted away and he waited until the lift reached the ground. A look of determination set itself into his face and he stepped forward.
Before him was a large round room with a massive pit at the center. A few fire pits had been set into the walls, their flickering flames casting long shadows in every direction, and there, at the edge of the pit, stood Del’Moth, flames licking out of its eyes like horns as it stared into the pit, hands clasped behind its back, waiting.
“Of all the ones to make it down here,” it mused turning to face him, “It had to be the one that I really don’t care about,” then it chuckled, “I mean, at least the mermaid would’ve been tasty.”
Clyde said nothing, reaching into his belt, he produced the sling blade and held it at the ready as he continued to approach.
“Iron?” it scoffed at him, “Really? That’s your trump card?”
He broke into a run, lunging at the demon who merely repelled him with a wave of its hand, throwing a wall of force in his path to send Clyde flying backwards to land in a heap. It watched him writhe and groan as he slowly collected himself and stood once more.
“You know, if you’re not going to be challenging, you could at least be entertaining.”
He ran at the demon again, but, just as it threw out its hand to stop him, he did the same, the golden spider on the back of his hand coming to life.
“Five meters!” Clyde growled and the gilded spider went to work, creating a portal that he instantly vanished into, avoiding the pressure blast and reappearing right in front of the monster and swung his blade down like an axe.
Del’Moth managed to avoid the blow and responded with a furious swipe, raking its claws through the air and sliceing through his cape as he spun around for his next attack. Clyde used his portals again when the demon sent out a shockwave to trip him up and landed hard on the beast’s head, with it stunned, he buried the slin blade into its chest and slung it hard across the cavern, ripping open its chest with the sheer momentum. As it landed with a sickening wet thud, Clyde spun the blade in his hand, cleaning off a bit of the black slime that had oozed out of the creature.
“Having fun yet?” he snarled, advancing on the fallen creature.
As he moved, the ground began to shake, the red glow emanating from Del’Moth’s eyes grew brighter, the smoke from them coiling and joining together to form one single image, a massive, multifaceted, red eye. The many angled pupil throbbed and pulsed, sending out waves of energy that shook the whole library.
“Don’t get cocky you pathetic meatsack?!!” it hissed at him while crawling to its feet.
Undeterred, Clyde ran forward and stabbed it again, only for a fiery explosion to burst from the wound, scalding his hand and forcing him to back away, weaponless. With no small amount of worry, he watched the iron blade melting away. The demon faced him once more and let out an animalistic growl.
“So much for your trump card.”
“Meh,” Clyde shrugged, pulling a pair of throwing daggers from his belt, “Iron clearly wasn’t doing the trick at any rate.”
“…who the Hell are you?” it demanded curiously.
“I…am the Silk Merchant,” Clyde proudly declared.
“That…” the demon shook its head, “Is quite possibly the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”
“I get that a lot,” Clyde admitted, then ran at his enemy once again.
