PA 3.5: End of a Tail

Chapter X Part II

"Gonna be honest, dude, he's a bit terrifying, but you're right!" Tigger exclaimed, slapping her right paw onto her left bicep and flexing. "We can stop this guy!"

Sparky smiled and sighed, wrapping his right arm around Rover's shoulders and pulling him towards himself. "Yeah. We can't let all this stuff keep us down. Things might be bad, but they'll be worse if we don't get Patches together."

Rover's tail still drooped, giving a single unenthused, "Yeah," in acknowledgement.

Mitt shrugged, improving from being irritated to contemplative.

"C'mon scaredy-cat!" Tigger leaned away from Felix, using the small distance to wrap her arm around the cowardly sphynx, yanking him to her front like she was about to break his neck. He gave a confused, scared yell that was barely garbled from the light grip around his throat. "That's the SPIRRRRIT!" she yelled in response to his nonsense.

"We need to summon Bapawmet," Angel stated, putting both of his paws on the table dramatically. "We don't get to take this slow, we need to end this now." Angel looked at Mitt expectantly.

Mitt squeezed their eyes shut and grit their teeth, crossing their arms in sudden discomfort. "You want to know? Fine. Just... don't blame me if you freak out." There was a short pause, but it was long enough to be awkward.

"Should I say it?" Whisk asked.

Mitt muttered, "Sure."

Whisk warmly smiled and began to twirl his wand again. "Alright! So. We're all aware of the fact our family has the ability to summon Bapawmet, god of Infurno, yes? The Wichien family has had the spell for centuries, however, we discovered recently that it's less of a spell and more of an agreement..."

Mitt suddenly spoke up, defiant to their previous apprehension on the topic, "It's a contract that was struck long, long ago. We aren't certain, but... we think it was the same contract that gave mortals an understanding of how the arcane works; it's the very contract that allowed us to use magic in the first place."

"Yes, right you are, Mitt, but I should note that we really aren't sure about that. Anyways, the contract's specific terms have been lost over time, but, when we tried to summon Bapawmet so they could capture Patches for us, they, uh- they told us that the Wichien bloodline had been humiliated." Whisk lingered on the last word, drawing out every syllable as he shut his eyes and placed his paws on his hip in a light fit of anxiety.

Mitt was unable to keep their neutral face, turning their head to hide their shame behind their large bundle of pinkish hair.

"What we were able to get from dad, it seems by the terms of the contract, they are capable of refusing service until our 'honour' has been restored."

"We need to kill Patches. Or, well, he just needs to die, but until then, we can't summon Bapawmet, nobody can."

Angel shot up. "And you didn't tell us?!" he yelled, directed at both the twins, but Whisk was the recipient of the glare Angel brandished. "... You're such assholes! We thought that, if anyone died, you could just bring them back! What if he had killed Brownie, or Ginger, or any one of the volunteers looking for him?"

"Angel, calm down," Sparky suggested making a 'simmer down' gesture with his arms.

"NO... you have no idea what it's like, you do not get to talk!" Angel turned his attention toward Mitt. "If my sister did as you said... Brownie would have gotten killed by that maniac!"

"HEY! That dog had a knife around my throat too!" They frowned, forcing their gaze to remain fixed at the bloodshot eyes of the furious cat. "I would've happily bled out if I knew we'd be one step closer to finding him and putting a stop to this," they said, brushing some of their hair out of their eyes as Angel revealed his claws and teeth, letting loose a low-pitched growl of anger.