Trust in Oneself, Draft 1, CH 19-20 (Patreon)

Paul watched, stunned first by the proclamation, and then Wassa’s claim Grant was forge the staff back to it’s original form, as chaos erupted. Grant was arguing with the seal that he couldn’t be do that, since wood was what he worked with best, not metal. He brought up the multiple cars and truck he used over the years as examples, and how none of them were in one piece to demonstrate his lack of ability with metal.

Denton listened to the argument, Wassa was now proclaiming that she saw him repair it, and therefore his belief in how little skill he had was irrelevant, then stood and stepped away, putting his phone to his ear.

When Donal stood, saying he’d go deal with the staves that were lost in the mail, Paul stood too. Where the squirrel headed out, Paul headed up. He hadn’t known where Thomas had teleported to until he’d caught a glimpse of him peeking around a corner and then vanished again.

He knocked on the bedroom door gently. “Thomas, it’s Paul.”

The door cracked open and the rat looked left and right before pulled the golden tiger in and slamming the door.

“This is bad,” Thomas muttered, pacing the length of the room. “We need to leave, now.”

“Thomas, how about to sit down and take a breath?” Paul sat on the bed and patted the space next to him. “Things aren’t that bad, are they?”

“Do you have any idea who that is?” Thomas demanded, and kept going. “That’s Denton Brislow.”

Paul nodded. “I know he’s the reason you don’t come to Denver often, but—”

“Do you know what is going to happen if Raphael finds out we’re in the same house? Fuck, that we were in the same room?”

“That’s…” Paul had to search his memory. The name hadn’t come up often in the last few years, with Thomas getting busy helping Grant retrieve staves. “The Lewiston guy who emprisoned you, and tried to kidnap you a few times after that.”

“Yes!”

Paul grabbed the rat’s arm as he passed and pulled him on his lap. “It isn’t like he’s going to be able to get to you here, with everyone here. The sense I get is that Mister Brislow’s pretty important, and connected.”

“And he’s Raphael’s arch nemesis!” Instead of pulling away, Thomas leaned against Paul’s chest after the exclamation.

“Then that’s even more reason to stay, isn’t it? Mister Brislow will keep Raphael from doing anything.”

“Except probable nuke Denver.” Thomas ran a finger over Paul’s chest.

“Why would Raphael do that?”

“Because he’s insane?” Thomas offered. “You have no idea how much he ranted about Brislow when he was… when I was his prisoner. If he wasn’t talking about how he was going to use me, he was screaming about how Brislow was the reason for everything that went wrong in his life. From nearly all his family being murdered by some tiger, to getting the Cormorans to kick him out of Denver and even being shunned by the Society for a few years. As far as Raphael thinks. Brislow is the Anti-Christ.”

“Okay,” Paul said, amused at how Thomas had undone the buttons on his shirt as he spoke and was now running a hand through his fur. “That’s got the be the most extreme case of hate I’ve ever head of, but I don’t see how—”

“He thinks I’m the holy grail,” Thomas said. “What do you think he’d do if he thought the Anti-Christ got his hands on the Holy Grail?”

Paul swallowed. At the idea, he told himself, not at how Thomas was lightly raking through his fur. “Can I ask you a question?” at least his best friend wasn’t freaking out anymore, but now probably wasn’t the time for this. “Is the Holy Grail real?”

“Why?” Thomas looked at him. “You want to drink from him?”

“It’s a per—” Paul realized when Thomas meant and rolled his eyes. Right, Society. There was no such thing as a bad time for sex with them. And it wasn’t like either of them had anything else to do at the moment. He smiled at the rat and reach back to the tail strap.

The knock at the door stopped him.

“Mister Hertz, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t teleport away. Despite your justified fears, Raphael has no way of knowing you are here.”

Paul looked at Thomas to gauge what he wanted, but his friend leaned forward to kiss him.

“Also,” the cheetah added. “Mister Heeran. I’m only going to say this nicely once. Stop influencing him.”

“What?” Paul looked at the door, then Thomas, he barely seemed to register what was going on. What was he talking about? Paul wasn’t doing anything.

The door opened and the cheetah stepped in, slamming the door in the bear’s face as he tried to follow. He crossed his arms over his chest and studied Paul as Thomas moved to nuzzling him.

“Thomas, stop. Now is really not the time.” He pushed the rat away and that seemed to cause him to regain enough senses to noticed the cheetah and leap behind Paul.

“At least you didn’t teleport away this time,” the cheetah said. “Now, Mister Heeran, You are—”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“I know you believe you aren’t, but I also know what I’m feeling. And you’re influencing him. So, again, I need you to stop it.”

“How can you know I’m doing anything? Isn’t one of the things about the faction that you only affect those within your faction?”

Again the cheetah searched Paul’s face. Then responded. “No, that isn’t how it works, but even if it was, I’d still be able to sense your ability since it’s from Him.”

Paul shook his head. “We’re established I’m not Society. The last time I was in an orgy with enough Society men to initiate me was a few years ago, and it’s been nearly two weeks now since I’ve had sex. Fuck, if not for how the staff shocked me, we wouldn’t even know I was from one of the faction. And before you say it, there aren’t any tigers among the Survivors, so it can’t be them.”

“There are the Missionaries,” the cheetah said.

“The who?”

“You know if it had been on to them. They’re big about explaining exactly what your duties are as one of them before you accept.”

“Okay, so that it then. I’m not one of you.”

“Except that you are. Here, let me show you what it’s like for your friend right now.”

Paul swallowed, unsure what to expect, and when the cheetah frowned, he felt vindicated. He wasn’t the one doing anything.

“Aren’t you feeling—” the cheetah started, and was stopped by the bear bursting through the door and shoving him against the wall and kissing him hard.

Paul stared as the bear undid the cheetah’s pants.

“That looks like it’s going to be fun,” Thomas whispered. “Be a shame not to join them.” Paul bolted up as the rats groped him.

Thomas shook himself and frowned.

The bear flew across the room and stopped in mid air.

“That’s enough of that,” The cheetah said, panting and pulling his pants back up. “Definitely the same brand as your father, but not the same flavor.”

“What is happening?” Thomas asked and looked like he was fighting to remain on the bed.

“You know my father?” Paul asked. His mother never spoke of him. Paul didn’t even know if he was alive or dead. He knew he’d asked, when he was younger, but she’d dismissed him with ‘he wasn’t that important in the grand scheme of things’.

“No, but I know his family.” The cheetah fixed his gaze on Paul. “You, Mister Heeran, are an Orr.”

Paul sat among the boxes in the guest bedroom processing the little Denton told him before heading out. He was an Orr. Only that made no sense, since he hadn’t had a ceremony. But the cheetah had been on the receiving end of the power and he’d tapped it a few times, so he knew what it felt like. Paul definitely had the Orr’s influence, even if it was an odd variation on it. He couldn’t seem to turn it off, and instead of affecting anyone he focused on, it affected anyone he was interested in, or was attracted to.

That part, Denton hadn’t been certain of, since his own range of attraction was wide, and he was definitely interested in the bear, since he was a guy. Why the bear had nearly raped him while Thomas was only overly amorous, Denton blamed on how much energy he’d fed into it when Paul hadn’t reacted.

Paul had asked how to shut it down, and Denton hadn’t known. Abilities were innated part of who they were. That Paul didn’t know how to turn it off was odd, and how the cheetah did it wasn’t useful, since he simply stopped tapping it.

He’d retreated to the bedroom once Denton left to remove himself from Thomas, since seeing him seemed to make it tougher for his best friend to resist giving into temptation.

He’d considered calling his mother and demanding to know about his father, but even without taking into account he’d have to get his phone from Wassa, and he had no idea how they’d handle talking with using it for translation. He’d have to explain to his mother how he’d come to need to know who his father was how his mother had had sex with one of the Orrs, let alone been able to dismiss him as “someone unimportant”.

She already worried enough about him as it was, with him being half a dozen states away. Telling her he’d been involved in fixing a magical problem wouldn’t reassure her.

He let out a breath and stood. Enough sulking. Whatever excuses he’d given himself, that was what he was doing here and sulking didn’t help anything. He opened the door and checked to make sure Thomas wasn’t around.

“Non,” Thomas said from the kitchen. “Tu dois t’assurer que Jacques n’est pas impliquer.”

Paul peered into the kitchen. Thomas was leaning against the counter, phone to his ear. French and the name Jacques meant he was talking to one of the Mercier. Paul’s French amounted to oui, Non, and Merci. Which he’d picked up for a trip to Paris Thomas took him on. While he didn’t understand the rest, it probably had to do with Jacques constantly trying to be involved in anything against the Chamber. Ever since they killed Hubert, the badger was on the warpath and Thomas considered it his mission to keep his indestructible friend from finding out if there was a limit to his power.

Paul paused as he entered the living room on seeing the muscular raccoon leaning against the wall next to the door.

“I’m just here to make sure no one bothers y’all. The boss called in people to secure the house.”

“Doesn’t Donal have wards on?” Paul asked.

“Don’t know anything about that. Not magical myself. But I figure if there were anything like good, the boss wouldn’t bother with extra people.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if Donal was here,” Grant commented without looking up from his phone.

The raccoon grinned. “So, sir, I wouldn’t. But he’s not back yet. The boss also said that should I feel the need to have you bone me, to get out of dodge, or else.”

“Let me guess,” Paul said dryly, “he threatened to remove you balls.”

“Oh no, those are the kind of threats he leave to Mister Marrows. That and threats to fuck us till we don’t remember our names anymore. No. The boss just likes to remind us that he’s the one authorizing the transfer of my pay to my bank.”

“And that’s enough?”

The raccoon raised an eyebrown. “You try to feed three husband without the premium paycheck Link pays.”

“Two wasn’t enough?” Paul asked, chuckling.

“There’s way too much love in this heart of mine to stop at two. Anyway, if you want to head outside, I’d ask you wait until the others get here. The boss didn’t want to worry you, but a bunch of people when running when we arrived. Now he figures they’re some of the Chamber the lady talked about.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Grant said, then muttered, “ever, the way these videos don’t explain anything about metal smithing.” He glanced at the seal, who was pulling items from a box. She turned a toy car over in her hand, studying it as if what it was, or, possibly, what concept it embodied, would reveal itself.

“Can I help you with anything?” Paul asked, sitting in the chair next to hers. He figured that as a woman, she was the safest person for him to be this close to right now.

She smiled at him. “I do not know.” She picked a small flashlight out of the box and looked at the bulb en. Paul lowered her hand. It was probably broken, but why take the chance. “I knew the world would change while I slumbered, but I did not understand how much, and Grant tells me all this only happened in the last hundred years.”

“Probably closed to a hundred and fifty,” Paul said.

She nodded. “My family has lived the same way, fishing the sea for enough to live and barter with the family of farmers for wheat, for so many generation that we could not conceive of it ever changing. Even once I found I could channel the world’s creativity. What I did with it was nothing like this.” She pulled a broken drill from the box and seemed amazed by it’s weight. “What is this?”

“It’s a tool used in building… well, it depends how it’s used.”

“A crafter’s tool.” She nodded and closed her eyes. “It would be the idea of assembling something. Improving it.”

“It can be used to take something apart too.”

Her eyes snapped open in surprised.

“It contains contradicting ideas?”

Grant chuckled.

“I guess we don’t think of them as contradictions. Just different facets of how construction works. I’m more of an applied theorist at this point than someone who builds anything, and I have no idea if I could even explain biochemistry in a way you’d understand”

“Alchemy.”

Paul stared at her. “I guess. Yeah. I mean we’ve moved beyond cauldrons, but I would be turning one thing into another.”

“Can you turn lead in to gold?” she asked with a hint of mockery.

“No, but it can be done,” he added. “In theory. But the amount of energy required are so large that there’s no point in doing it.”

She smiled. “Then there are things that have not been made better by the passage of time.”

“Well, I wouldn’t—wait. Are you saying you can turn lead into gold?”

“What’s gold?” Grant asked, still not looking up from his phone.

“A precious metal,” Paul answered.

“Go deeper. Not the item, the concept.”

Paul considered it. “Wealth, value, malleability.”

“That’s a good start. Concepts can be altered and moved. The most powerful magics use their essence, but it’s possible to move them to something else. If you take something that’s almost like gold, same weight, same malleability, it’s easy to link other concepts so you can bridge the gap. Add enough of the concept of value to lead and you get—”

“Fools gold,” Paul said. “You’re talking about fools gold.”

Grant chuckled and looked up. “Not only fools fall for it. That one never lasts, but you get the idea.”

“Could you make ‘fake gold’ that—”

The phone around Wassa’s neck rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but it showed from Denver.

“You’re going to want to take that,” the raccoon said, looking at his phone.

Wassa handed him the phone.

“Hello?”

“Paul, it’s Denton.”

“Hi.” He wasn’t she he liked how jovial the cheetah sounded. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh this isn’t about me. You happened to come up in a conversation with someone I know, and he is extremely interested in meeting you.”

“And who is that person?” Paul wondered if Thomas was willing to take him to… would South Africa be far enough for what he suspected was coming?

“Arnold.”

“Arnold who?”

Paul could hear the smile in the cheetah’s voice. “Why, Arnold Orr, of course.”

If the storied he’d heard were even close to the truth, Paul decided he’d need to be on the moon to keep this meeting from happening.