“What do you mean kidnapped?” I didn’t remember striding towards Chloe. I was just there, in her face, resisting the urge to shake her and demand to know more.

“Woah there!” Chloe said, taking a step back with her ears folded back in a sign of fear. “I get why you’re upset, but I’m going to need you to take a deep breath, alright? Alira isn’t planning to hurt her, from what I can tell. She’s just gotten the idea that she can outplay her granddaughter by threatening your girlfriend.”

“Alira?” I moved no closer to Chloe, as per her request, yet my voice was cold and distant even to my ears. “As in former General Alira? The one who’s worked tirelessly to worsen my image over the years?” Not that she’d needed much help, but- No. I didn’t have time to waste beating myself up. Not while Abigail was in danger. 

Perhaps it was time to give people a reminder of exactly who I was though. The bratty Queen they didn’t dare mess with. The fool of a ruler who’d risk tearing the tower apart in her anger, if the ones she loved were touched. Perhaps it was time to remind them why they had avoided me for so long.

Perhaps it was the time to deal with Alira permanently.

“Where is she?”

“We don’t know,” Chloe informed me, no longer flinching backwards in fear, but also not moving any closer towards me. “Most of what we do know comes from Mellany - apparently there are more holes in their information network than a starving spider’s web, at least when it comes to their own house. Each faction is spying on every other faction, and even when you think someone is on your side there’s always someone else waiting to stab you in the back… That’s probably how Alira caught wind of our plans to move against her.”

“And? Should we assume that she knows that we know?” My voice was even colder and seemed further away than before. “Where does that leave us? Where is Alira? I will deal with her personally.”

“Relax, sis,” Nivera said - the first words to pass her lips since my arrival. She looked pissed and her voice was almost as cold as mine. “We’ll find her and we’ll take her down. For this and everything else she’s done. For now, though, we have to be content with knowing that Abigail’s safe.”

“Safe for now.” Why did everything seem so far away? I would expect to be more upset by this. “According to Mellany, at least?”

“Yup,” Chloe confirmed. “Though she didn’t want to tell us at first… She wanted to try and solve all this on her own without us even knowing until afterwards. It was actually a coincidence that I found out about things as quickly as I did - my friend Beth was complaining about a couple weapons she’d made on commission for her favorite prostitute, so I promised to go talk to Abigail and went to her place - where I found out from her Mom that she never came home. Bailey says she didn’t spend the night here, so of course I went to talk to-”

“Enough!” I interrupted Chloe more forcefully than I intended. “We don’t have time for this. I don’t have time for this. I’m supposed to be backing up Lucy right now…” I bit my lip, glancing down at the teleportation pad. I needed to tell Lucy what was going on. She’d understand - even if it messed up her own plans. And it would mess up her plans, if her companion - who the church wished to know all about - disappeared in the night and couldn’t be found when asked about…

…Unless, of course, her companion could be found…

“Chloe.” I refocused and looked at her. “I need your help.”

“My help? With finding Abigail? Because I’m pretty much doing everything I can already, there. At this point we’re just waiting for more information.”

“Not with that,” I said. “With Lucy. I need you to take my place for the night. Put on an illusion to look like me so Lucy’s companion doesn’t suspiciously go missing and I have someone I trust by Lucy’s side.”

Chloe shot a glance towards Nivera, who shrugged. Then she looked back at me. “Alright! So long as Lucy’s okay with it.”

Needless to say, Lucy was in full support of my plan. Though she insisted that she wasn’t in danger and didn’t need anyone to look after her, she couldn’t deny that it would raise eyebrows if I were to suddenly disappear. So Chloe stayed with her while I paced back and forth across my bedroom with Nivera, anxiously awaiting more information from Abigail’s abductor.

“I hate waiting like this,” I complained. “Abigail could be suffering at this very moment, and yet I’m stuck waiting around for a ransom note or something. Some clue as to where she is, or what Alira wants so desperately that she would threaten my girlfriend.”

Nivera gave me an odd look. “You’re actually referring to her as a girlfriend now, huh? Guess things are going well for you two?”

“They are, actually,” I confessed, a slight smile tugging at the corner of my lips despite the situation. “She makes me feel… like I haven’t screwed everything up beyond belief, I suppose. Like there’s a way forward, even for me, so long as I make the effort. Were she the one in my situation, she’d probably already have a plan that didn’t involve waiting for someone else to make a move…”

“I don’t know about that,” Nivera replied, “but I do know something we can do instead of waiting. Chloe shot it down, though.”

“What, and why?” I asked with a frown.

“We could rely on Bailey’s nose,” Nivera replied. “Try to track them directly.”

“And the reason Chloe rejected the notion?” I asked, admittedly intrigued by the possibility.

“Well… She had a lot of them, actually,” Nivera confessed, not quite looking me in the eye. “Like the fact that we might miss a communication. Also we don’t really know where she was taken from, or if Bailey would be able to isolate her scent… and there’s the chance of Alira finding out what we’re up to and escalating things… but it still feels better than just slithering around doing nothing!”

“It might feel better, but that doesn’t make it the right choice,” I replied. “Much as I hate to admit it.” I wanted to be chasing Abigail down. I wanted to find her, to secure her, to make sure she was safe right this instant. Yet to act without thought would only endanger her.

…At least, that was my thinking, until a new thought popped into my brain.

“There might be a more direct route we can take… Do you know where Doll is?”

“Doll?” Nivera asked. “Last I heard, she was setting up her office on the 90th floor… Speaking of which, we should probably talk about what the hell happened there at some point? I thought you hated Doll!”

“I do. Or did? Or… I don’t even know anymore,” I said. “It’s complicated. Suffice it to say that she has access to information I need, skills I find useful, and a backstory I… can’t entirely ignore, for all my mixed feelings. I’ll explain more later, but for now I simply hope that she has what I need…”

Was there a holy spell that would allow me to track down Abigail? Asking Doll about it would at least be doing something even if it ended up not existing. Anything was better\than just waiting helplessly for our enemies to make a move.

You know, when you think about being kidnapped, you usually think of it as a terrifying thing. Not that I really thought about it at all, outside of maybe when dealing with fictional works where the main character or her love interest got captured by the evil sorceress or whatever, but… Still. I always sort of connected kidnapping with excitement and fear. Not boredom. So why was it that I was bored rather than shivering with fear?

At least my abductor seemed to be having fun. The old hag was masquerading as a cleaner in the corner, right at the edge of my field of vision. She probably didn’t realize I was watching her, or else she’d have at least pretended to clean instead of just shooting glances at me and then giggling to herself repeatedly, before hurriedly running her cleaning towel over the same exact spot, again and again, as if afraid I’d suddenly turn my head around. The bitch didn’t even have the right tool for the job, and was wielding a full sized bathing towel rather than a cleaning rag.

So far I hadn’t given her the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Oh, enough of this!” she eventually declared, throwing down her towel and standing up from her previous crouch. Her attempt at appearing domineering was ruined by her stumbling forward a step as she rubbed her back, before standing up straight and glaring at me. “I grow weary of pretending to be a scullery maid! Especially since you insist on being the most boring captive in the world! You haven’t even tried to strike up a conversation with the lowly maid who has clearly been left in your proximity for the clear purposes of pumping you for information!”

“And why would I do that?” I asked, wondering if this woman maybe had a screw loose. Or ten.

“So that you can pump her for information back, of course!” the old woman replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s how this whole thing is meant to work! Two people locked in a bottle of wits, trying to make the best use of their time! You’re such a dullard that you just wasted the opportunity that had been given to you, and didn’t even try to squeeze me for information!”

“...Right… Are you from one of the bloodlines? Because this sounds like exactly the sort of twisted logic bloodliners get into.”

“Bah! You just don’t understand the intricacies of weaving a web of deceit and treachery!” the clearly crazy woman said. 

“Why don’t you fill me in, then?” I countered. “Starting by telling me why exactly I’m in this place.”

“To entrap the Queen, of course,” the woman said, looking at me as if I was an imbecile. “Now that I’ve taken her new favorite toy I’m sure she’ll do anything to get you back - if only for the sake of some twisted attempt to improve her image among the plebs. She can’t be seen abandoning the only person she’s pretended to be nice to all this time, after all.”

“Uh-huh…” I replied, rolling my eyes. Not that the madwoman could tell. “So… what? You want to use me against her in some sort of political move?”

“I want her to help me put things back the way they should be!” the woman said, a deranged gleam in her eyes. “With me in charge of the 90th floor, not that upstart Sylvanna or that decrepit automaton Doll. I want her to put my granddaughter back in her proper place- clipping my toenails and cleaning my feet as she pretends to care for my affection. Most of all I want Devilla herself to abdicate and allow us Generals to run things as we see fit!”

“...Right,” I drawled. “Because that’s likely to happen. Devilla’s not going to abandon her people just to get me back, no matter how much she cares. And you’re not going to hurt me, no matter how crazy you are, because you don’t want Devilla to kill you or whatever.”

“Please,” the woman scoffed and rolled her eyes at me. “As if. The worst she’s ever done to anyone was to me and even that was just some cracked bones and broken legs! She’s a doormat. Just another reason in the very long list of them, all detailing why she isn’t fit to rule. Why we generals would be better at running things. Why she should never have removed me. Why I should be in charge, not that witless automaton!”

“You’re insane. You’re actually completely insane.” I was shocked at how delusional she was.

“You think you’re better?!” she snarled, anger suddenly overtaking her features. “You, who has gotten the Demon Queen herself wrapped around her finger? Who accepts the way she treats you and pretends that everything is fine for… What? Some vague plan to make her feel loved and wanted in the tower? To improve her image?”

I growled at the woman. Actually growled at her. If my hands weren’t tied to the back of the chair, I probably would have lunged at her as well. As it was, though, even my tail was chained down. I couldn’t move an inch. I could only growl and hope it got my point across.

Oh, right. I could still talk.

“You’re Alira, aren’t you?”

“What makes you think that?” the old woman asked, putting a hand on her hip while looking at her other hand to inspect her nails. “I’ve heard that Alira is as genius with disguises as she is beautiful in her true form. There’s no way you could possibly recognize me.”

“...Right. So. Alira. First off, fuck you. Second off, I hope nobody ever fucks you again. And third off, fuck you metaphorically, because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you talk about my girlfriend like that!”

“And what are you going to do about it?” she scoffed even as I struggled against the ropes and cursed my own weakness. I wished I could at least use my magic stores, pitiful as they might be, but they’d force fed me something to cut off my magic. Probably dusted Jailer’s Vine. In nature, the plant sucked up magic to grow, and while it lost the whole ‘growing’ part when dead and dusted it would still suck up any magic you tried to use. You could theoretically overwhelm it, but between my low amount of magic and the amount they’d fed me there was no way I’d be able to neutralize all of it any time soon.

“I’ll bite my own tongue off before I let you have your way with her,” I told her, trying to keep calm. It was a bluff… mostly. I didn’t think Devilla would really do everything she wanted anyways, and I really didn’t want to die… but it seemed to panic Alira.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would,” I lied through my teeth, narrowing my eyes. “So how about you try acting a little nicer? Then I won’t have to find out what it’s like to choke on my own blood.”

“That’s… you can’t just… You can’t just take yourself hostage against your kidnapper!” Alira protested and actually stomped her foot as she threw a tantrum. “That’s not how this works! That’s not how anything works!”

“Like you know anything about actual ‘work,’” I scoffed, mostly just trying to get under her skin. It was the closest thing I had to an effective attack against her. “You push everything onto your daughters. Even your granddaughters. And then you probably get surprised when they hate you.”

“Mellany doesn’t hate me!” Alira protested, stomping her foot again. “She’s just ambitious. It’s normal for a girl her age. She’ll have a taste of power when she’s older.”

“You mean when you’re dead and gone?” I challenged, arching an eyebrow. “I’m honestly surprised you’ve lasted this long.”

“You…!” Alira snarled at me. Making fun of her age was sort of a low blow, but low blows were on the table so far as I was concerned, seeing as how she was the reason I was here in the first place! It was better than just keeping my mouth shut and taking whatever came, at least.

At least, that’s what I thought until she started to stalk towards me, her fingernails elongating into claws as sharp toenails poked through the ends of shoes that were rapidly turning into bare feet. At the same time, the ragged looking clothes she’d been dressed in became finer in make, even as it shifted from a white shirt with a faded black skirt to a purple dress that clung to her curves. She looked younger, stronger, and most of all pissed.

So it’s probably for the best that the ceiling caved in before she could reach me. I couldn’t see what was happening through the cloud of dust, but I could hear something impact the vague shape I thought was Alira, and drive it to the ground.  When the dust finally settled I was able to see Devilla over Alira, pinning the madwoman to the ground by the throat with one hand as the ceiling above them slowly started repairing itself. I wasn’t sure if I should curse or be thankful for being bound as I was, because if I wasn’t I’d probably have backed up a step from the furious expression on Devilla’s face. 

“Found you.”

~~~
Author's Notes

A bit short, I know, but this felt like a fitting end to the chapter.

Many thanks to FallingLeaf for the editing! The main change to this one - compared to the rough draft - is the ending, which adds another paragraph or two. Also just in general more emphasis on how pissed Devilla is. Which is partly her way of not thinking about how worried she is, but still. Look forward to the reaction next chapter? (Of course, if you're impatient, you can hop on over to my Patreon and read 5 chapters ahead - though I'll warn you that they haven't been through FallingLeaf's editing process yet.)