“What the fuck…?”
The cat licked him again as he tried and failed to dodge it. This time, it stung a little.
“Oh God, your breath, stop, ugh!”
What the hell was going on? It felt like somebody had used him as a punching bag as he slept, and struck with an irrational fear that the damage from the dream had somehow carried over, he frantically patted himself. Thankfully, he found no wounds or bleeding, and though he was still having some trouble breathing that was probably due to the dog-sized cat standing on his ribcage.
Fuck, that nonsense with the demon had just been a dream, right…?
…
Oh, who was he kidding? Even if it was a dream he was sure it’d been real somehow. This world would never miss a chance to kick him when he was down, so wrestling an evil version of the Very Hungry Caterpillar in his sleep must be another new fun thing he had to look forward to.
Ah, well. At least he wasn’t tied up anymore.
“Hey beautiful, what are they feeding you?” he asked the cat, trying and failing to push her off of his chest. “Seriously, you’re gonna crush me to death.”
“Mrapp,” the cat said, blinking slowly at him with her big blue eyes. Then, almost as though she understood, she stopped standing and laid down, dispersing her weight so he wasn’t quite as squashed as before.
“Oh, okay. Good kitty?”
Letting out a loud purr, she began to make biscuits on him with her fluffy paws. He braced himself for a new round of puncture wounds, but God bless her, she kept her claws sheathed.
“Oh wow, you really are a good kitty,” he praised, stroking the faint orange tabby stripes on her head.
Taking in his surroundings, he saw that he was back in the infirmary. His memory of last night was pretty fuzzy after that message from Euphy arrived, but he vaguely remembered ending up here somehow and getting healed by Chiron before falling asleep.
Recalling the message, he tensed, and his first instinct was to jump up and go find out what happened. However, judging by the magical ankle monitors he was sporting, he was still under arrest, which meant there probably wasn’t much he could do. Anyway, thanks to that blue-haired bastard, he now knew Euphy had a bunch of scary people watching out for her. Knowing she had protection helped him relax, even if it also made him feel inexplicably sad.
The storm from his dream seemed to continue into reality as lightning flashed and heavy rain pattered against the window. It was dark out, but he wasn’t sure if that was because it was still night, or if the storm had hidden the sunrise.
The cat, unbothered by the thunder, began to enthusiastically chew on one of his shirt’s buttons.
Not that there were many left, thanks to a certain someone.
With that in mind, Hunter decided that he wasn’t sure how, or when, but before he died again, he was going to find a way to get revenge on Iphis.
He gently pried the button out of the cat’s mouth and tried to distract her with skritches. Her abnormal size aside, she looked well taken care of, with a soft and shiny coat of fluffy cream-colored fur and pristine white paws. Someone here must be looking after her, but if that was the case, how had she gotten in? The only door to the room was closed, so what kind of irresponsible person would leave their cat with a prisoner?
“Hey,” he stopped scratching her and asked, his tone sharpening with suspicion, “You’re not secretly some kind of scary monster sent to fuck with me, are you?”
She blinked her blue eyes and looked at him with a cute, empty-headed expression that implied she hadn’t entertained a single thought in her life. Then she asked, “Bbrrrrmew?” and batted at his chin with one soft paw.
Hunter concluded that she probably lacked the brain cells to plot anything nefarious, calmed down, and resumed the petting.
“Sorry, it’s nothing personal, I’ve just had a rough weekend.”
Closing his eyes, he debated whether or not he should try and go back to sleep. As he did, his mind inevitably wandered back to his terrifying chat with Iphis last night, and the fucked up dream that followed. He considered whether or not to try and process this fresh new bouquet of trauma he’d been handed, and swiftly concluded:
Nope!
Not gonna do it.
Don’t wanna.
He was exhausted, and sore, and lacked the energy to care. The only thought in that direction he allowed himself to have was that, even if Ianthe’s body wasn’t one he would have chosen, it was still pretty nice to have a normal left hand again. Now he could scratch this cat’s face at any of the weird angles she demanded without discomfort, which was a win for both of them.
Plus, the mystery cat turned out to be a great heating pad, and the warmth of her long, heavy body calmed the worst of his aches and pains. Her purring was soothing, the bed was soft, and the room they were in was quiet and dark. The storm in the background and the sound of rain only made everything feel cozier, and with this in mind, Hunter thought that it must be okay to rest for a little while, right?
Like a plate of limp noodles topped by one big, fluffy meatball, he gave up on the idea of doing anything and just closed his eyes. The only downside to this arrangement was that every time he dared to actually fall asleep, he’d reawaken to a paw bapping his face, demanding that the petting continue.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but he eventually came back to full consciousness when he heard the lock on the door click. Checking the window, he saw that it was still raining outside, but things looked a little lighter.
The Arch-healer entered, only to startle when he spotted the cat.
“Hebe!” Chiron said, rushing over and picking her up like a huge, furry sandbag. “What were you thinking, breaking in here? I shouldn’t have to tell you not to mess with prisoners!”
Hebe hung from his hands, her round butt and back paws dangling. Unconcerned by Chiron’s fierce expression, she reached one front paw forward and placed it on his nose, saying, “Mrrflip.”
“Don’t try to butter me up! Let me check your paws.” Chiron effortlessly shifted the fifty-something pounds of cat into his arms, holding her like a baby as he inspected her feet. “Look at how pink your beans are! What were you thinking?”
“Uh… is that your cat?” Hunter asked, pushing himself up and arranging the pillow so he could sit back against it.
“No, this is my niece's cat. I’m just watching her as a favor,” Chiron replied, then had to stifle a yawn.
While Chiron’s pale green eyes were still sharp, his face looked tired, and the saffron-colored robes he was wearing were disheveled. Hunter got the impression that what little patience the man usually possessed had been destroyed by the fatigue he was suffering, yet he didn’t seem to mind the way Hebe immediately tangled her paws in his dark pink hair.
“Yeah, for how long?” Hunter asked with a sneaking suspicion.
“Three years,” Chiron replied absently, not paying any real attention to Hunter because he was busy tapping Hebe on her nose to get her to cross her eyes.
“Let me guess, you’re watching her because you refuse to have pets yourself?”
Looking up from the cat, Chiron’s eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at?”
“Nothin’, nothin’, she’s a really great cat,” Hunter said, putting his hands up.
For a split second, Chiron seemed pleased by the compliment, but he quickly covered that slip-up with another glare.
Privately, Hunter concluded that Chiron had fallen victim to the law of cat-dad magnetism, which stated that the more a man initially insisted he won’t keep a cat he’s acquired, the more he’ll end up doting on that cat in the future.
Judging by the way this guy was still holding Hebe even though she was now chewing apart one of his carefully maintained twists, Chiron had fallen particularly hard.
“Uh, anyway, I wasn’t really coherent last night so hi, nice to meet you, I’m Hunter,” he said, offering his hand to Chiron.
Chiron considered the hand, decided to ignore it, and said, “I heard. Tell me, do you really expect me to believe you’re the Young Saint’s father?”
Too exhausted to feel offended, Hunter gave up and dropped his hand, replying with a shrug, “Up to you. I’m kinda beyond caring at this point. Actually, hey, how is she doing?”
“She’s fine.”
“Fine? That’s it? What happened?”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me why you offered to make a cohort for Psyche.”
Oh, yeah, these guys had probably been spying on him all yesterday. That said, they must not have caught everything in detail if Chiron wasn’t asking him about his possession.
“She needed help, so I offered it, that’s it.”
Unconvinced, Chiron asserted, “I don’t think it is. You know about the game and so do I, so why don’t you tell me your real motivation?”
Well, at least everyone had given up on dancing around that subject. Still, Chiron now knew he wasn’t Ianthe, so why was he treating Hunter like her?
Right, right, he stole her body. If someone as spooky as Iphis got creeped out by that, it made sense that Chiron wouldn’t like it either.
With a sigh, Hunter admitted, “Look, I thought a cohort would be a good excuse to stick all the protagonists and my daughter in one place. Figured they could help Psyche at the same time, two birds one stone if you get my drift.”
“Heroes.”
“What?”
“The Young Saint’s chosen assistants are called ‘heroes.’ If you keep calling them protagonists, anyone in the know will realize you’ve got knowledge you shouldn’t.”
“Oh, okay, thanks for the tip?” Hunter said, unsure why Chiron was being helpful.
“If the Saint decides to keep you alive, you’ll be working for me,” Chiron explained. “And you’ll work hard to be a good employee, won’t you, Hunter?”
Chiron smiled, and even though his round face made it seem friendly, there was something so subtly threatening about it that Hunter couldn’t help but nod and smile back nervously.
Iphis was a scary guy, and in Hunter’s experience, the people that scary guys answered to tended to be twice as bad once the mask came off.
“That said, your cohort idea isn’t bad, especially since you’re funding the whole thing. Iphis found the paperwork in your office. I'll order him to sign on as your second so he can take over if something happens to you.”
“What? Why? I mean, good, I needed a second, but why not you?” Hunter asked, desperate for any excuse to avoid Iphis. “I don’t want anything to do with that asshole!”
“Because I can’t directly support Psyche’s project. Paying for her tuition here was the extent my sister would let me get away with,” Chiron explained, his casual shrug belying the ridiculous amount of family drama that must lurk behind that statement. “However, neither you nor Iphis are involved in those agreements, so she can’t stop you.”
“Okay, but… don’t you have any other employees?”
“Who I’ll let get near you? I suppose you could try to convince Moros instead, but good luck.”
Hunter decided to ignore how ominous that sounded and agreed. “Okay, I will. Can you tell me about my daughter now?”
“She was attacked by another student last night.”
“What!? I thought you said she was fine!”
Hunter tried to scramble out of bed, only to be stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder.
“That’s because she wasn’t injured at all, and our people are handling the aftermath, so stay right where you are.”
“Okay, but is she emotionally fine?”
“Yes, like I said, we’re handling it,” Chiron replied, only releasing Hunter’s shoulder once he was certain he’d given up. “Just hold the cat if you can’t calm down.”
Chiron gently dumped Hebe in Hunter’s lap, then turned to grab himself a chair and take a seat. Hebe, who didn’t seem to mind this at all, went back to trying to eat Hunter’s buttons.
“Now, would you like to tell me how you managed to get hurt again?”
“Hey, don’t say that like it’s my fault. Your mad dog was the one who did it,” Hunter protested, glaring back at him. “What the hell are you thinking, having a guy like that guard my daughter?”
“He can’t do anything to the Saints. It’s the rest of us who have to worry,” Chiron said, placing one glowing golden hand on Hunter’s shoulder. Warmth flowed from it, and the soreness Hunter had woken up with rapidly faded away. “And I already fixed your arm last night. I was referring to whatever you did to trigger Ianthe’s condition.”
Hunter, who was already very worried about Iphis, did not find this comforting at all. However, since Euphy would apparently be fine, he decided to drop it and instead asked, “What condition?”
“Mysterious internal lesions that appear out of nowhere, which is exactly what you’ve got now. You weren’t like this last night, so how did it happen?”
Hunter briefly thought of the bitchy invisible nope-rope he’d fought in his head and decided he had a pretty good guess, but chose not to share it with Chiron.
“I don’t know, all I did was sleep.”
“You seriously don’t know?” Chiron asked, his voice skeptical. Then he directed his attention to Hunter’s left eye and continued, “Do you know if it has something to do with her curse?”
Hunter, who only just now realized he wasn’t wearing an eye patch, suppressed an urge to cover it up and smiled apologetically. “Oh, maybe? If it is, I’m not sure how it works.”
“Do you not know what her curse is?” Chiron asked, staring at him hard.
“Like I told Iphis, a lot of Ianthe’s memories are missing,” Hunter said, focusing on keeping his breathing even and his heartbeat steady, since he wasn’t sure what kind of stuff Chiron could sense with that healing magic of his.
If what the demon said in his dream was true, he’d only passed Iphis’ test because it’d hidden to save Ianthe’s body. He wasn’t sure how the hell that worked, or why someone as demon-obsessed as Iphis didn’t know that was possible, which meant he couldn’t be sure he’d pass a second time if Chiron decided to double-check.
Fuck, why’s this guy always gotta have me sitting on shpilkes? 1pins and needles Hunter thought, trying to appear unbothered as Chiron stared him down. I’ve already agreed to give you and your hero niece so much money, can’t you give me a break?
Hell, he’d have offered more money right then and there if he hadn’t been sure it’d just confirm whatever suspicions this guy had.
Eventually Chiron frowned and let go of Hunter’s shoulder, clearly not convinced but unwilling to keep pushing things for now.
“Alright. In that case, let’s go over Ianthe’s health history.”
Relieved, Hunter eagerly jumped on the chance to change the topic. “Sure, but why?”
“Because like it or not I’m currently your healer, which makes your physical wellbeing my responsibility. Didn’t you say you were missing a lot of her memories?”
“Oh, right, her body is my body now, I nearly forgot again.”
“… Anyway,” Chiron continued, then tapped a bracelet he was wearing and reached into thin air to pull out a folio. Opening it, he scanned its contents before looking back at Hunter and said. “As a general overview, Ianthe is a relatively healthy thirty-six-year-old female. If you want your overall health to improve from there, I’d suggest getting more exercise, sunlight, and eating at consistent times with balanced nutrition in mind—all things I’ve suggested to her in the past that she’s ignored.”
Hunter nodded, feeling like that was pretty doable. He’d been an active guy in his old body, he was confident that with a little work he could get this one up to speed.
“As far as I’m aware, her only recurring health issues are anemia and those unexplained lesions. The ones I’ve treated have always been small, but you should still take them seriously. Even minor internal bleeding can become a much bigger problem if it isn’t treated, so if you feel anything out of the ordinary in regards to pain, fatigue, loss of appetite, or trouble staying warm, get it looked at immediately. Oh, and as for the anemia, try to eat more meat, legumes, and dark greens. Now…”
Chiron paused and the expression on his face became complicated. It wasn’t quite pity, but it was close enough to it that Hunter suspected he wasn’t going to enjoy whatever came next.
“Iphis informed me that you were originally possessing a male body? I take it that means this is your first time with a female reproductive system?”
… Goddamnit.
Hunter quickly replied, “Yes, sure, but I’m a fifty-two year old man, alright? I even have a kid, I know how it all works, we can just skip this stuff.”
“No, we can’t, because as far as I’m aware, Ianthe has no issues that might affect her fertility, and more importantly, if she was on any kind of birth control she didn’t inform me about it.”
“Hey, hey, look at me,” Hunter said, putting his palms together in front of him like he was praying. “I will pay you real, honest-to-God money to stop right now. Just name your price—”
“This has nothing to do with money, I have a responsibility to make sure you’re informed. So, tell me, are you aware of how human sex and reproduction works?”
Realizing Chiron couldn’t be stopped, Hunter pulled Hebe up into his arms and hugged her, hiding his face in the fluff of her neck as he mumbled, “I know, I know, okay? Seriously, how can I convince you that I’m human!?”
“You can’t,” Chiron growled, his pale green eyes cold, "Especially in light of the fact that you’ve been lying to me since we met.”
“Come on! I think I had some pretty good reasons for that!” Hunter hissed, gesturing at the anklets he was now sporting.
“Regardless, your current situation means that pregnancy isn’t impossible, and that is a condition that comes with a lot of health risks, many of which may be more dangerous in light of your other issues. Furthermore, even as a spirit, you will be legally obligated to provide care for any human children you produce, and you may be held liable if you did so without the consent of your host. With all of that in mind, if you haven’t looked into birth control yet, then I suggest we work that out now.“
“Look, doc, can’t you just—ya know.” Hunter made a scooping gesture with one hand and mimed throwing something out the window. “All of that? It’s not like I plan to use it.”
“I can—”
“Oh thank God.”
“—If the Saint decides to grant you legal ownership of that body. She’ll be here in a day or two, but the paperwork to complete the process may take longer.”
Hunter closed his eyes and sighed into Hebe’s fur. Of course there was a catch, he wasn’t even surprised, but at least it meant the option would be on the table eventually.
“Great. Fantastic,” he muttered, shooting a sullen look at Chiron from behind the cat. “Can we be done now?”
“Are you aware of and do you have any questions about menstruation?”
“No, no I do not!”
“As for those bandages—”
“I’ll just ask Iphis!” Hunter blurted out, so desperate to end the conversation that he dug a pit for his future self.
Chiron’s eyes narrowed again, but he must have found that option acceptable. “Alright, if you insist. Do you have any other health questions for me?”
“Yeah, can Hebe stay with me while I’m here?” Hunter asked, since the huge, weirdly friendly cat in his arms was currently the only thing keeping his abject misery at bay.
“No, because you’re not staying here.”
“What?”
A knock on the door interrupted him, and a moment later the lock clicked and Iphis walked in.
“Good morning, Boss—oh, and Hunter, I didn’t think you’d be awake yet. Ah, and the Boss’ Boss is here!”
Hunter glared at him and refused to respond, but Hebe let out a happy, “Chirp!” and squiggled out of his arms. Leaping off the bed, she trotted over to Iphis and twined around his legs, her bushy tail raised high in the air.
“Chirp irrp brip brrr!”
“Hello baby girl,” Iphis said, picking her up and planting a kiss on her big head. “Did you sneak in to make friends with our prisoner? Oh, that reminds me, Hunter, how’s your arm?”
“Go fuck yourself.”
Hunter had expected to feel pretty upset once he saw Iphis again, but it turned out that what he felt more than anything else was tired. If he had to pick between dealing with this psycho killer or the bitey miniature shai-hulud living in his head, he had to admit he preferred Iphis.
Anyway, he’d spent most of his life around guys like this, so he already knew there was no point in being angry with him. Violence also wouldn’t do any good, since he doubted that a maniac who offered to cut his own arm off to prove a point was afraid of pain.
That was fine. Hunter could be patient when he needed to be, and everyone revealed a weakness eventually.
“Ah, that look you’re giving me is rather scary—ow! What was that for?”
Chiron, who’d gotten to his feet and taken two long steps over, had smacked Iphis across the back of his head with Ianthe’s medical records.
“What the hell did you do!?”
“I got you the Prince, uninjured like you asked for!” Iphid said, backing up and raising the cat like a shield.
“Oh, uninjured, is he? Do I look stupid to you?” Chiron hissed, raising the folio again but unable to use it for fear of hitting Hebe. “Then would you like to tell me why the fuck you’re so low on mana?”
Hunter had noticed with no little schadenfreude that Iphis looked far worse this morning than he had last night. The dark circles under his eyes and the fact that he was wearing yesterday’s clothes implied he’d pulled an all-nighter, but the way his usually glowing skin had become colorless and waxy indicated a more serious problem.
Running out of mana was a lot like running out of blood, in that you only got to do it once.
“You sent me to subdue him, and his knights, and his retainers all on my own, why can’t I be out of mana?” Iphis protested.
“Bullshit, tell me the truth!”
“Can’t you give me a mana stone first?”
Chiron pulled one of his rings off and threw it at Iphis, who managed to catch it with one hand despite holding a giant cat. There was a brief flash of light as he absorbed the mana in it, then he frowned, opening his fingers to release a shimmering dust into the air, and sighed. “Ah, I broke it…”
“Iphis!”
“Alright! Like I said, I didn't hurt him… I just trapped him in a little death loop.”
“You… you trapped him in a what?” Chiron asked, abruptly crumpling the folio into a ball between his big fists.
“A death loop, and don’t give me that face. I’m not an amateur, none of them know it was me,” Iphis replied, still shamelessly hiding behind the cat.
Hunter thought about it, realized he recognized that spell, then kinda wished he hadn’t.
In Cydonia, a great deal of deadly magic was completely legal to learn. Nobody would stop you from studying how to burn people alive, or electrocute them to a crisp, or crush them with gravity. If you did happen to use those spells on someone you weren’t supposed to, then it was treated just like a regular murder, and if your victim lived then there were few physical injuries healing magic couldn’t fix.
Spells were usually only outlawed if they did something irreversible to a survivor.
The ‘death loop’ Iphis was referring to was a forbidden necromantic spell that caused no physical injury. Instead, it used psychic magic to turn a person’s imagination against them, trapping them in a hallucination where they lived their lives normally and then suddenly died, over and over until the spell ran out of energy or was lifted by someone else.
The realistic nature of the visions, coupled with a dreamlike sense of time dilation where a few seconds might feel more like weeks or months, meant that even after people escaped it they couldn’t always be convinced that they had. They’d live out the rest of their lives sure they were about to die at any moment, and in extreme cases they might come to believe they were already dead, and that reality was in fact their afterlife.
So of course it was a spell Ianthe knew, and had used on others.
It also explained Iphis’ mana exhaustion. The ability to sense malicious magic gave people an unconscious resistance to that sort of harmful psychic intrusion, so even if Iphis had attacked a sleeping target he probably had to brute force his way through that barrier, a task few mages could accomplish.
Hunter, who’d already had Iphis rated pretty high on his ‘scary motherfucker’ scale, bumped his estimation up a notch.
“Do you think being caught is the only problem here? Iphis, what were you thinking!?”
“I was thinking he attacked Euphrosyne and deserved to die,” Iphis replied, his tone becoming serious.
“Wait, this ‘Prince’ is the jerk who attacked my daughter?” Hunter asked, throwing the pity he’d briefly entertained for that guy out the window.
“Yes,” Iphis confirmed.
“Don’t tell him things he doesn’t need to know,” Chiron ordered, his deep voice strained as glanced between Hebe and Iphis, clearly trying not to yell around her. “Iphis, why did you do this?”
With a cold smile that did not match the cute, fluffy cat he was still holding, Iphis said, “You think I don’t know you plan to let him off?”
What, really?
Wasn’t Chiron one of the guys who was supposed to be protecting Euphy? What the hell was he thinking!?
Automatically switching into angry dad mode, Hunter demanded, “Hey, is that true? If this prick went after my daughter, you can’t just let that slide!”
“I am not letting it slide—“
“So I can kill him?” Iphis interjected.
“No!”
“Then what the hell are you going to do?” Hunter asked.
“I am working on it!” Chiron shouted, finally losing control of his volume.
Distressed, Hebe flattened her ears and wriggled out of Iphis’ grip in a panic. Dropping to the floor, she darted under the bed like an orange cream-colored blur.
Chiron spared Hebe a guilty look, then took a deep breath and said more calmly, “The situation is politically complicated, so we don’t have a solution yet, but I can guarantee you that psychically torturing a student was not one of the options.”
“So what are—” Hunter began, but Chiron pointed at him and cut him off.
“Speak out of turn again and I will seal your damn mouth shut!”
Hunter, who’d been so worked up over Euphy that he’d forgotten Chiron was also a scary bastard, closed his mouth but wasn’t happy about it.
“Iphis, just tell me, what the hell is going on with you lately?” Chiron asked, for the first time sounding less like a pissed off boss and more like a concerned parent. “You’ve been mostly fine for years, but now you’re injuring a suspect one night and attacking a student the next morning?”
“Nothing’s going on, I’m fine,” Iphis insisted, somehow more upset by Chiron’s concern than he was with the yelling. “And I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You know that’s not true, so why are you even arguing?”
“Why? Why do you think!? He tried to murder one of my people!” Iphis snarled, his face twisting with fury as he gestured with both hands towards his heart. “What I should have done was turn him inside out, slowly, and sent what was left to his family! But I didn’t, for you and for Calliope, so maybe you ought to show some gratitude!”
Hunter, who’d unexpectedly found himself on Iphis’ side of the argument and also wasn’t his current target, nevertheless looked away from this exchange in discomfort.
Ok, this was getting weirdly personal. Were these two related or something? Did they have to do this here?
Hunter wondered if it was too late to go join Hebe under the bed.
Regardless, something about what Iphis said seemed to steal Chiron’s thunder. With a heavy sigh, the man pinched his forehead and asked more quietly, “And if you did accidentally leave evidence, and you’re discovered? Do you really think you’ll be forgiven for attacking a prince? Iphis, do you want to get locked up again?”
…
Wait, what was that?
“Ha! I’m not a child anymore,” Iphis sneered back. “I’d love to see them try.”
“Did you bother to think about what this getting out would mean for your unit? Calliope is your guardian, do you even care what this could do to her reputation? You’re right, you’re not a child anymore, so why are you acting this fucking selfish!?”
Now it was Iphis’ turn to hesitate.
“I have to eliminate threats to the Saints, Calliope understands,” Iphis mumbled, though judging by his sullen expression and the way he dragged out his words, he wasn’t entirely sure of that.
“Iphis, the Young Saint was perfectly capable of protecting herself.”
“That…”
“The Prince couldn’t even get near her.”
Hunter wasn’t sure why that made Iphis look so unhappy, but sensing an opportunity to get these two to stop fighting in front of him, he took a risk and asked, “Hey, uh…”
Their uncomfortably intense attention snapped towards him, and he stiffened. However, it was too late to back out, so he continued,
“What do you mean by ‘get locked up again’?”
Chiron and Iphis exchanged a look.
“Should I tell him?” Iphis asked.
“Oh, now you care about getting my permission?”
“Would you prefer I didn’t?”
They paused to glare at one another again.
Finally, Chiron smoothed back his hair and said, “You know what? I don’t care. I have to go make sure the other half of our Hyperborean peace treaty doesn’t think he’s stuck in a perpetual cycle of death.”
“Good luck with that, he’s been under for a while,” Iphis replied.
“I’m also docking three months of your pay.”
“You can’t be serious!”
“Five months of your pay,” Chiron amended as he crouched down by the bed. Reaching into one of his pockets, he pulled out a cat treat and said, “Come here, Hebe, I’m sorry.”
You carry treats in your pockets, but she’s not your cat, huh? Hunter thought, watching Chiron lure out and scoop up his only current source of comfort.
Hebe, gleefully chewing whatever Chiron had given her, was draped over his shoulder like a scarf as he stood back up and said, “Congratulations, you’re each other’s problem now.”
“Wait, you’re leaving me with him!?”
“He’s the one you negotiated house arrest with, not me,” Chiron replied, and then to Iphis continued, “If you fuck this up, I don’t give a damn what your god wants. I will send you back to the capitol.”
Iphis sulked against the wall with his arms crossed. “I get it, I get it.”
With one last parting glare at both of them, Chiron mercilessly left Hunter in the hands of a lunatic.
The moment his boss vanished, Iphis brightened right back up like the previous fight had never happened and said to Hunter, “You didn’t think I was going to go back on our deal, did you?”
“Thanks, but I’d rather stay in here, or wherever you aren’t.”
“Hunter, I can bother you no matter where the boss puts you,” Iphis said, ignoring the perfectly good chair Chiron had been using and perching himself on the counter instead. “At least if you cooperate with me, you’ll get coffee.”
God, he wanted to hit this man. If he had any other way to get a hold of coffee right now, he might have tried taking a swing just to make himself feel better.
“Come on, look! We even match,” Iphis said, pulling back one of his coat sleeves to reveal a familiar silver bracelet. “Although, unlike yours, mine only activates if someone thinks I’m trying to run away.”
“So you’re a prisoner too? I thought you said you were a cleric.”
“I am, it’s just a bit complicated. Do you want the short version or the long version?”
“Short version,” Hunter replied firmly, unwilling to seem too interested because he was sure Iphis would like that.
Iphis spread his arms and with a beatific smile said, “As long as I still have my divine blessing, anything I’ve done is considered the will of the Gentle Lord… even if some of those things made a lot of people very unhappy.”
“Wait, seriously? So you can do whatever the fuck you want as long as your metaphysical daddy is okay with it?” Hunter was simultaneously horrified and also feeling like this explained a lot about the bastard. “That’s insane. You people are all nuts.”
“Well, obviously I can’t do everything I want, otherwise I wouldn’t have had to wear these,” Iphis said, making a sad face and giving the cuff a shake for emphasis.
“So what, is the Saint your parole officer?”
“She’s responsible for keeping me in line, if that’s what you mean,” he replied and then, failing to hide his impatience, leaned forward and urged, “Come on, aren’t you going to ask me the good one?”
“What’s ‘the good one’?”
A slow, lazy smile spread across Iphis’ face, and his golden eyes glittered as he said, “What I did, of course.”
“Oh… No thanks, I’m good.”
“Huh?” Iphis said, his smile vanishing in disappointment.
“I’m not really interested.”
“Why not? Everyone asks.”
Hunter, calmly basking in the ambient waves of frustration Iphis was emitting, flipped his hand dismissively and said, “Nah, I can guess. I don’t need the details.”
Iphis’ expression soured. “You’re lying, you are interested. You’re just being petty again.”
“Whatever makes you feel better,” Hunter said, sliding out of bed as he continued, “Now are we gonna get outta here or what?”