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Kittychat47
Caress couldn’t remember the last time she had personally attended a meeting in the Obscura. It was a good thing, she supposed. It meant she had a trustworthy cohort who could uphold Bramble Step’s laws and keep its secrets while she lived her busy life. But it was nice to be back. She had forgotten just how wastefully luxurious it was there. The velvet carpets and plush seats, the decadent wines in bottles of rare crystals, the heady scent of flowers that only grew in the dark…
One could almost forget it was an oubliette.
But that was by design. This was the secret court where Bramble Step’s laws were made and upheld and where delicate matters were given such privacy that even the Shadowbinder could not hear the whispers from within.
“Welcome. I am Madame Caress, margravine and liaison of Shadow affairs to Aphaster City and the rest of the Analemma Dominions, proprietress and a long list of other things that would bore us both to tears.” She settles comfortably upon one of the lounge chairs, with a disarming but not overly sweet smile. “I understand you’ve come to meet about an astral.”
Cisco followed her example and allowed himself to mirror her relaxed demeanor. “Yes, we’ve been in contact with your queen about Metapneumata.”
“Ah yes, I remember…” She laughed politely. “
Gloomwillow Grotto. How endlessly charming.”
Morse crossed his arms, somewhat ruffled by her casual amusement and by the situation. Analemma was a light clan, but this whole district was nestled up to the twilit border between the Sunbeam Ruins and the Tangled Wood, and Caress wore shadow loyalism on her sleeve.
“It’s what we’ll go by, for the sake of this conversation.”
Caress waved her hand in a gentle go-ahead. “As you like it. It’s neither here nor there and no insult to me. So let’s get to business. What exactly do you need?”
“We’re hoping for information about this ‘plane’ that you want to send her to,” said Cisco. “We’re a clan experienced in spirits, and while Metapneumata’s power is worrisome, the spirit plane we are familiar with is…unkind.”
“And you wish to be kind to her, even as she threatens your home with ruin?”
Morse bristled. “It’s not her fault.”
Caress raised her shoulders in an easy shrug. “Will it still not be her fault when your clan begins to burn?”
Cisco gently cleared his throat. “I believe we are getting off topic.”
“So we are,” said Caress, rising to pour herself a drink. “Analemma has only recently recovered from a rather unfortunate run in with an astral. My husband and my dearest friend…” She clenched her jaw. “Nevermind. I cannot answer your question, but I have one who can on standby.”
She knocked against a stone, and a violet sigil lit. Only a few moments later, a blood red imperial arrived. A deep scar split the right side of his face and smoke trailed from a dark cigar that hung loose at the corner of his mouth. A worn ledger teeming with fluttering page markers nestled under one of his arm.
“Carnelian,” he said gruffly, neglecting to offer his hand to either of them in favor of opening the book. “What sort of information you need?”
“Excuse his lack of good manners,” said Caress, with a smile that said she was almost certain going to do something unpleasant if he embarrassed her. “He’s a detective, not a diplomat.”
“I understand,” said Cisco. “We need to know about the plane that the astral come from. If you are hunting Metapneumata, we don’t wish to turn her over if you are only going to make her suffer.”
“You’re not the first to have that opinion.” He clapped the book shut. “Astral plane is somethin’ special, doesn’t have anything to do with the spirit plane you’re so worried about. The archmage would probably have the best details, but she’s out in lightning territory right now. Different astral out that way blew up a trade company’s cargo. Messy situation.”
“Do you have no more information other than ‘it’s not the same.’?”
“Plenty. It’s the realm of the stars and the sidereal. Not really fit for a dragon to go to, but what other plane is, really?” He scratched idly at his neck. “It’s not a hostile place, it’s just not a place a dragon could understand, and that astrals we’re all scrambling around to find weren’t supposed to form, much less be called off-plane to trounce around Sornieth with the rest of us.”
“And does is harm them," Morse pressed. "To be sent back or to have that astral component removed?”
“Only if they resist, but the way I hear it, your astral’s twin was ecstatic to get a ride back home. Let me put it this way--”
He flipped the book back open, turning a few pages before he got to what he wanted. “Katasomata was plagued by visions of Sornieth’s past. All day, all night, no breaks. When the good Imperator went to go get her and take her home, she was so relieved she cried. Well, harder anyway. They’re both criers as I hear it.”
He took his cigarette from his mouth. “You got lucky and got an astral that actually feels some sympathy for this world. If you want to return the gesture, let the Archmage send her home.”
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