Keaton's conviction and the subsequent arrest of Mr. Ashford earned a mention on primetime news, and the team in Ha'Khun quickly reconvened in anticipation of Joshua's return. James was about to get lunch when the husky's face appeared on the screen, replete with headwings.
"Hi guys," he said. "I'm at Mundathra railway station, but the line to Ha'Khun Central is closed."
"Do you want us to pick you up?" Azrael asked.
"Nah, there's a replacement bus service," Joshua replied. "I should be with you in about an hour."
"Fine. In that case, we'll start now and fill you in when you arrive. Sound good to you?"
"Works for me. Catch you later," Joshua said and signed off.
When the coach arrived, he immediately noticed that the driver's seat was missing, ripped out to accommodate a four-legged Gryphon, who stood there sulking petulantly. As Joshua showed his ticket and settled into a nearby seat to relax, the driver began to issue an unending stream of complaints about how he would have got more exercise pulling a cart in the Good Old Days.
Despite his new physique and stamina, Dorcan was not one to waste time if he could avoid it and trekking all the way Kurnshire and back would be boring. While Jakob had an Amulet of Recall, Dorcan was well aware that Niall had a warp-aci and that might be a better bet depending on how good Kirian's geography was.
"Niall," he called out. "Is there any chance I can borrow Ki-" he stopped as the brown-haired figure glanced around. It wasn't Niall, it was...
"Dorcan?" Dasgard yelped. "My gods... I thought you were dead!"
"I could say the same," Dorcan said. "Weren't you hanged for a mass-murder in Mundathra? I mean, Jesus, Das! What were you thinking of, murdering all those poor Beings?"
"Not murder, a rampage," Dasgard corrected, looking at the floor. "Maybe I'm arguing semantics.... I know that it can't excuse what I've done, but it was supposed to be a... a wake. For you."
"A wake?" Dorcan queried, his eyes bugging slightly. "I'm not sure whether to be honoured or horrified. Mostly the latter, I think. Surely lighting a candle at the temple would have been a more suitable way of showing your respects?"
"I guess... I guess I wanted to avenge you. But... now I've done worse than what you were accused of. I'm sorry, Dorcan... If it's any consolation I am dead. And I know now why your Clan denounced attacking. And knowing that you're still alive and it was all pointless... that makes it all the worse."
"There, there..." Dorcan said, and put an arm around the gently sobbing incubus. "I don't know how Jakob will take it, but I trust Niall's judgement, and I guess he does too."
"Thanks," Dasgard said. "I'm not proud of what I did. It was a mistake, it should never have happened. I... Have you you been working out?" he suddenly asked, noticing Dorcan's arms.
"No," Niall said, entering the room. "That was an accident."
"Accident...? Oh. You did to him, what you did to me?"
"So it would seem. Now, Dorcan... forgive me for asking, but am I right in thinking that the two of you... are an item?"
"W-what makes you say that?" Dorcan asked, his headwings fanning out.
"When I retrieved Dasgard's soul from his locket, I found your picture in it."
"I..." the Doberman closed his eyes. "At one time we were, pretty much. But... well, I wanted to call it off."
Dasgard looked shocked. His mouth remained tightly closed.
"If you two want me to leave you alone for a bit..." Niall began, edging towards the door, but Dorcan gestured him to stop.
"I mean, I like you and all," the Doberman continued, staring at the floor, "But... I wanted to raise a family, help make the clan bigger. That's not something you could have offered me. I didn't really know how to put it and I didn't want to hurt your feelings. I hoped that when I left the Academy you'd find someone else. I'm sorry, Das."
"Just friends, then?" the dalmatian said, with a tinge of regret.
"Friends, certainly," Dorcan said and shook his hand. He was slightly surprised at how calmly Dasgard was taking this until he saw that Niall was standing behind Das and his hands were faintly glowing.
The moment was suddenly broken as Daryil walked into the room. He looked slightly subdued, and his stride had lost most of its bounce. He strode up to Dasgard - who froze like a guilty school kid - and solemnly handed each of the dogs a single coin. This done, he turned about and left the way he came.
Gingerly, Dasgard turned the coin over and realised that it had two heads. Dorcan's had two tails... he shrugged and pocketed it. In the corridor, a faint grin spread across Daryil's muzzle. He loved confusion.
The dalmatian's mind suddenly polarised into a single mood - terror. "Dorcan," he begged, "You've got to help me... He'll kill me!"
"Who will?"
"Daryil, of course! He has it in for me!"
"Nonsense. You have to bear with him sometimes, but he's a good man. I owe him my life. Yours, too."
"What?!"
"He bankrolled the android technology," Niall told them. "He hoped to use it to bring Timanjurath back from the dead, but he didn't want to come. Keaton wasn't the only one to be disappointed in that way, though it's probably for the best... I don't know how Simeon could have fitted into it all."
"He can raise the dead?" Dasgard said, trembling slightly.
"He can do a lot," Niall said. "He's Ascended." Dasgard curled up on the floor and made little whimpering noises.
"Petter," Sanderssen said, "I believe you have some thoughts for us?
"Well," the incubus began, "From what I've been told so far, it sounds like a classic example of a messianic cult. The leader will typically have some notion of divinity or a belief that he communes with the Gods. He will also try to establish complete control of his followers. In extreme cases this involves eradicating errant followers, either by making an example of them through public executions - as with Jyraneth's Clan, for example - or sometimes through carefully-staged 'accidents' as was the case with the Moonbar Cult last century, and to a lesser extent Malnemar's coven which Jakob may remember. The strategy will vary depending on how complete the leader's control is, and whether he has any kind of facade to keep up."
"Anyway, that's my take on the situation. Ashley, Azrael... any thoughts on what kind of a thing he is, Creature-wise?"
"I think so, but we'll need to confirm it. Tell me, Abidan, do you have wings?"
"Yes," the puma said, reluctantly.
"And you're a shapeshifter, so you've hidden them. Do you have any other powers or abilities? Or strange things that only you can see or hear?"
"We... " he looked around. "When we reach a certain age, we start to hear voices in our heads. When this happens, we have to tell the Father, and he blesses us. That makes the voices go away for a while. We get our second wings about the time this happens."
"Like these?" Ashley said, revealing his head-wings. The brother looked flustered.
"The head-wings? Yes, but.... I was told it was a sin to show those in public. Most indecent! Same for the back-wings. The Father is exempt from these strictures, of course..."
"Well, then. That's that. You're a 'Cubi.", Jakob said.
"Cube-eye?"
"'Cubi. As in Incubi and Succubi, singular form 'Incubus' and 'Succubus'."
"And I'm an incubus?"
"Unless you're really female, yes. I guess the good news is that your finger is liable to grow back over the course of a few years. The bad news is you're a soul-stealing monster, and most Beings will either distrust you implicitly or try to kill you. Welcome to the club."
"Makes sense now why I couldn't determine what he was." James added. "Had he been a fully realized 'Cubi..."
"I'm a monster?" the Brother said. He sounded rather distressed.
"Only if you choose to be. Taking souls is a skill that must be learned, it's not something you can do by accident. And I might say, it's not strictly considered a very good career choice, either. Beings - and heck, other Creatures - will tend to hunt you down and kill you if you run around feasting on people's souls. Revenge soul-slaying is not unheard of, I might add. Best not to go there in the first place."
"Enough about the souls!" the Brother yelped. "I... I don't want to think about it! What else can I do?"
"Shapeshift of course, but you already knew that. You'll live for thousands of years, longer if you take souls... though there are less-violent substitutes," he added hastily. "You won't need to eat, drink, sleep or even breathe, able to subsist entirely on emotional energy. You have a natural talent for magic, and you can read thoughts."
"Read thoughts? You're shitting me," the puma said.
"Think of a number between 0 and 65535," Ashley told him. "4728?" he added a moment later. Brother Abidan looked horrified.
"That's what those voices you could hear were... other people's internal monologues. With practice you can turn the ability to hear them on and off at will."
"Is it possible to have a clan which feeds on ignorance?" Petter said, pondering out loud.
"Charmed, I'm sure," the brother said, looking rather put out.
"I don't know how to put this politely, but your knowledge of the world is decidedly... shallow." Sethir interjected. "I'm not saying it's your fault, of course. It sounds very much as if you were deliberately kept in the dark about your race and your own capabilities. Anyway, tell us about your family."
"Father Albina and my brothers and sisters," the creature replied instantly. "They are my family."
"No, no. I meant, who were your parents? Who was your mother? Your father? Who raised you?"
"I don't know who my mother was. None of us do. But Albina was definitely my dad. He sired us all. Why do you think we all call him 'Father'?"
"All...?" James stuttered. "And how many of you are there?"
"About two hundred and fifty of us," the puma said.
"And you all live in the Church?" Sanderssen asked, agog. The puma nodded.
"A normal 'Cubi clan contains something like twenty to sixty members," Jakob said slowly. "Maybe a dozen or so more. As far as I know, there has never been a clan this large on record since the Dragon wars."
James raised a hand. "Where's Joshua?" he asked. "He should have been here an hour ago."