Chapitre 56: Felix Megistus - Chapter Six
"Don't call me a fool, okay?" I raised my eyebrows as we settled down into his chairs. "And, I don't repeat mistakes. We are here for a deal. Payment in exchange for services."
Baptiste lit a cigarette and uncorked a bottle of nectar.
"Got a glass for me?" Liora interrupted our conversation, "I could really use some before..."
"Shut up!" He poured himself a tall glass, almost a whole 750 milliliters.
"I cannot bear it!" He spoke while chugging the rest inside of the bottle, "Chram that into yuar-" final slosh, "-thiek skool!"
"Guy, calm down. It's been awhile since death was on the table. I just need a location."
"Yua need?" He scoffed, "Je needed, yua. Felis, Noh, noh noh. Leaf me aloon Felis. Go. Tach yua madame and leaf!"
"I cannot do that. Come on, Guy. It's a win-win. Little sleuthing here, historical investigation there, and poof! Never see me again, and you are once again a rich man. C'est la vie?"
"NOH, it is nota vin-vin. Its a looz-looz! I. Looz. Twice." He cleared his throat and sipped his wine.
A few minutes of silence blanketed us three as we all measured our next words. I thought Guy would be over it by now. I wish I could say his words stung, but I burnt that relationship. Completely exorcised any emotions for him from my mind. I had to. I promised her.
I stared down Guy, demanding he speak next. After several deep breaths, he collected himself again. Ready for a proper conversation.
"Felix, please," Great, he's now speaking the Queen's English, "Out of respect for our former brotherhood leave. Leave before I act irrationally."
"Guy, I am here to hire you, not to appeal to your emotions." I explained, offering a slight drop to hopefully intrigue him, "So forget your anger and lets have a gentlemanly conversation of business. I have a great opportunity for the trade of the century! I just need the Codex. In turn, let me pay you five pounds of silver to track it down."
He closed his eyes and exhaled. Great, this will be gold.
"Forget?! Forget..... really. You say to me to forget!" He stood and walked around planting his palms on the back of his chair. "Wounds scar. Scars fade. But the memory of pain remains! I cannot, must not, forget! I carry the same hurt ever since! To keep her alive in some way! I vowed over her grave. Not ever to ever even speak to you ever again! But here we are you bastard. I broke my vow hoping you would apologize to me, to her. I thought you would have a modicum of compassion or empathy. I called you a fool. I am sorry. I was wrong. I lashed out, but you deserve it, no? I am the fool and you? You're a leech, swine, salaud! You're in my home! Her. Home! No message. No carrier pigeon. No phone call. No hello. No visit at the funeral. No arm on her casket! No shoulder of my brother, to lean on, as I grieved! You killed her and left me to rot. Twenty years of solitude. Twenty years, Felix! ? You come after Twenty years!"
He paused, choking down something welling up inside. He blinked away fledgling tears in his eyes, wiping them on his sleeve. He swigged a large mouthful of the red alcohol in his chalice.
"Not with love. Not with apology. Not with flowers. But with demands? With expectations?" Guy spat out, his voice thick with emotions he barely kept in check. He stopped pacing and looked at me, his eyes fiery pits of grief and anger. "All I ever wanted was you to come back and mourn with me!"
I offered him a deal nonchalantly, "Ten pounds of silver."
"What- You... No!" Guy's words reverberated through the dimly-lit room, "No. No, no, no, no. Simply, no! How have you become more dense, Felis? Where did your humanity go? Money?"
"You were like my brother! We had no debts between us. We had no secrets, no solitude. We loved you. If we had the chance of parenthood, we would have named our son after you! But you took my heart and bled it dry." His tone shifted from remorse to hatred as he transitioned to try to damn my soul with his words, "You didn't even bring me a body to bury."
"I am not here for amends nor forgiveness, Guy. I just need a location." I added, my voice cold and detached. "Its under charms. You're specialty."
"Or it doesn't exist! Burned at Alexandria! Hidden by the Templar! Fed to a god! Sacrificed to someone's brother for divine power! Get off my property Felix. Leave me to rot too. Wait. No, you wouldn't because that is what I want!"
"Fifteen pounds of silver and I'll fix your wards. Improve them." I pivoted, "Don't stand here and pretend that I would be the worst person you've ever worked for. Sure, I have blood on my hands. We all do."
I held a hard look at Liora for several beats before turning back to Guy. I stood up from the chair and drank some of the liquid divinity in my flask.
"Quite hypocritical Guy. You speak as if you haven't killed more than me. As if you ever cared who the money came from. Iguape? Kangar? Fredericton? Shall I continue?" I stopped cold, I had him to rights.
Might as well, I suppose. I did bring it up, besides, the prior quality was appalling. I caught the nexus of power in the room between my thumb and forefinger I called upon my blood and connected to the remnants of the protections on his house. I reset the wards with a warm pulse of light. The enchantments manifested with a gilded brilliance. Floating upon reality before obscuring themselves from anyone with a way to perceive. Each symbol hummed silently, blending ancient magic with a slice of my modern flair.
As I stood there, watching Baptiste pace like a caged lion his cramped, dimly-lit living room. I knew what he was debating internally. I would lose if he mentally simmered long enough.
"Pleased?" I asked, although I didn't particularly care; the question was just a simply way to interrupt his inner monologue.
I gestured to the seals, now better than before. Closing my eyes, I visualized the traces of existence shed by Baptiste. "Nothing significant escaped. Now the Codex? Where might I find it? How much to track it?"
"Pleased? No Felis, I am not. Something like Chyme's legacy is worth more than both our damned souls combined!" He scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation the twang of his ethnicity returned.
"Twenty." I persisted, observing his mannerisms and expressions closely.
He waved me off, his frustration mounting, reaching for his wine again, "I have too much left before I can leave to be judged at the gates!"
"Fifty." I interrupted, the amount increasing with my impatience.
"Mon ami, we're pushing fifty. Look at you. Rival the front page any magazine! Look at me, Felis, Liora. Take a hard look." Guy paused, waiting for us to actually look, "I have aged enough for the four of us!"
"Sixty." I said firmly, knowing well that his resistance should soon crumble.
"You're talking pissing off, signaling to, and running from every being vhom ever dipped their toe into the pool of esotericism!" He chugged another drink of his wine. "It's suicide."
"Eighty."
"Felis, I cannot risk-"
"A hundred." I finalized the offer, my voice echoing slightly in the room.
Baptiste shook his head, his voice lowering to a pained whisper. "It's not the money, damn you. It's about... Manon would be miffed—"
"I.. I'll do it" I cut in, feeling a flicker of something in my chest.
"You might still have her," He flicked his hand toward to Liora beside me, "But I've been alone. I can't do this. Not again..."
"Damn it. I'll fix it." I declared, more to myself than to him.
"Fix what Felis? What could I need fixing worth our lives?" he demanded, a mix of curiosity and dread in his tone.
"The cauldron, Baptiste. I'll put that damned thing back together. You tell me where the Codex is, and... Damn it! Tell me where the Codex is, and I'll use the Dadeni."
His breath hitched, a hopeful gleam in his eye. "You are a fool. Why would I pull my heart out of Heaven?"
"She's.... " I hesitated, the words sticking in my throat. "Uh. She is..."
Manon's dying smile flashed in front of me, overlaid onto Baptiste's expression.
"She's what?" Baptiste's voice was a dangerous growl.
I faced him squarely, dropping all pretenses. "I lied Baptiste."
He bit his lower lip. His brow quivered. His eyes searched for the right emotions. He rolled his tongue behind his lips and flared his nostrils. Guy faltered, his body visibly shaking.
"I. Lied. To. You." I insisted, holding his gaze. "I did not kill her."
"Câlisse!" His chest heaved with a deep breath, before he could move Liora stepped between us.
Liora interjected, pressing her hands against Guy's stomach, "She wouldn't want you two to fight-"
Baptiste threw her aside. He pulled a revolver from the gaps between reality. I stared down a tunnel of dark steel as the cock of the hammer rang in my ears. Another revolver flourished into he other hand pointed down toward Liora as she moved to stand. "Touch me again whore. You could have healed her! You as much killed her as he did!"
The black of the barrel overtook my vision. The memory started with the heavy door, darker than the dusk that settled over the Urals, giving way under my urgent shove. I'll never forget the stark white of the hostel bathroom tiles, a cruel contrast to the scarlet that greeted me, the color so vivid against the sterile backdrop.
"Bastard!" He turned and stared me dead in the pupils. "Your lips as much as quiver, and your mind will be blown by how little age effects the speed of a trigger."
Liora declared, fire within her voice, "Baptiste, Guy. You know the consequences of spilling his blood. You know who will hunt you."
"He signed his death when he butchered her in a dirty hostel! If I burn. Least I burn with her!" He shifted from outrage to cold fury. "It will be worth eternity."
"Manon-"
He turned to Liora and cocked his left-hand's revolver, "Say her name again. I dare you."
"Pieces."
The revolvers dismantled, the barrel, trigger, firing pin, every part clanging onto the floor separately as the power of my voice contacted each segment.
Stripped of his weapon, Baptiste lunged at me, his fist connecting with my jaw. He broke my nose with his forehead and threw me to the ground beside Liora.
Every protective charm on my jacket popped at once. A wave of healing mended the bridge of my nose and my busted lip. A warm barrier pushed Baptiste off of me and a second trapped him in suspended animation. Dozens of swords made from light surrounded the bubble, threatening to impale him at the slightest itch of my thoughts.
I waved away the magics.
"Guy, do you think I did not mourn for my-" He cut me off.
"She was my wife, Felix." Guy coughed as he righted himself on the floor, "Do not think you understand my pain."
"Baptiste, I'll bring her back. Help me, and I'll make it right." I interjected.
"I can rebuild that cauldron. With the Codex, reignite it! I can pull her out of Hell." I lied again. She was not in Hell either.
I knelt down offering my hand to him.
"Baptiste. I'll save her. Help me find my target and I'll give you all that silver. I'll have the power to bring your wife home! After she is back she can share her dying words with you."
I stretched my hand little to ask for him to take it again.
"Come on Guy Baptiste." I said, layering a playful inflection into my words, "The game of the century! One final hurrah."
"Final hurrah..." He mulled over the offer before looking at me with the eyes of a puppy you just kicked, "Those things? You swear?"
I nodded, solemnly. "I swear."
"Then I only need one more thing from you," Guy said, with hurt in his voice, "An apology."
He grabbed my hand and I helped him to his feet. He gulped down the last of his wine.
"Assemble."
The metal on the floor danced and formed back into Baptiste's revolvers in his hands. He tucked them away into his special holster in another plane.
He looked at me, the fight draining from his stance. "Do it then. Bring her back. And Felix, if you fail. If I bite the bullet. I will not fade away before giving you one for her. Now say the words."
I do not think he understood anything while enraged.
I said, "Vehemently, I apologize, for murdering, in cold blood on the floor of a hostel, your wife and for not returning her body to you. And for not attending her funeral. And for never once speaking with you for the past score. Even though I had no choice."
He flashed a grimace, only partially satisficed. In his defense though, I had spoke like a child who tells their parent they did not ruin the prize tulips in the pots on the porch practicing throwing cards even though after being explicitly told not to practice throwing cards on the porch while facing the house in case you damage the flowers.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone