Unmaking Percy

Part II - III, continued (The Hushing Manor)

"Yet another sad end."

He barely had the strength to crane his neck up; he doubted he would be able to look at her, and he was certain he did not want to. Her words had the making of a cadence to them, the final chords of the final measure.

"Now wait a moment!"

Myrtle's voice came like a splash of cool water. It gave Percy enough strength to look up at last. His grasp of the room must have escaped him for longer than he had thought; either that, or too much had happened too quickly. Evans stood over him, shielding him, his freed hand now pointing his sword at the sorceress. But she too held a blade to Evans' neck, thin and vicious-looking in its silver glare. Somehow, it did not look entirely real, but none of its threat was lost for it. Percy could not see any outcome in which Evans would not be wounded – at best.

Not far behind, Myrtle, half-crouching, half-standing, and fully oblivious of how ridiculous she looked, had dragged herself towards them, scraping along the chair she was tied to.

"I am in awe of you, my lady" she panted, holding her free hand up in a deferential gesture, "as awed as I am terrified, and as terrified as I ever will be without making a mess of my trousers. I know very little, but I know at least we did not mean to offend you. I offer you a deal – " she promptly swallowed her words back when she saw the look the sorceress sent her, " – a penance! Something to show our respect for you and for your acceptance of this curse being broken."

Percy saw Valeria shooting an anxious look at Myrtle, but she held her tongue.

"Go on" the sorceress commanded. "You do not matter enough to make me linger in silence."

Such words would have skewered Percy. They would never simply slide off him, undisturbed and undisturbing, as they did now with Myrtle, like droplets of oil on water.

"My deepest apologies, my lady" Myrtle bowed her head. Her meekness had practice, that much was plain. "I humbly presume that my lady first learned of the master of this house by hearing what others said of him. Perhaps especially what his servants said? Surely they were the first to tell the world beyond these walls how badly he behaved towards his muses. Such information is precious to a great sorceress as yourself, so as to enact your justice by fairly cursing this man. I beg you to strike me down, my lady, if I am mistaken in any of this."

"Myrtle!" Valeria growled in warning, still struggling in wretched frustration at the binding that bit into her muscles.

Percy looked at the sorceress. He could see the amusement that had sparked in her at such a display of abject submission.

"You are not wrong" she responded.

"Oh, sweet waters, thank you" Myrtle breathed a sigh of relief, pressing her hand to her chest. "My lady, not all servants are as talkative as the ones who worked in this house. Many feel bound to secrecy by loyalty to their masters. Which is a shame, really. They know everything about their masters. All the bad deeds, the gossip, the... well, all the dirt. Think of every curse that has been left unplaced because a sorceress such as you never knew of the opportunity to place it. Because a servant kept quiet. If they agreed to speak to you, to... inform you... imagine all the princes and lords that you would have cause to punish with a spell, because you would know of their wrongdoings. Imagine all the curses you could cast."

"Myrtle, stop this!" Valeria bellowed.

"And what do you propose?" the sorceress asked, unfazed by Valeria's interference.

"A guild of sorts. To connect servants who are willing to provide information about their masters, and their misdeeds, to interested fae and sorceresses. In return, the servants will be left out of any curses that are placed on their masters. Allowed to walk away unaffected."