Ungodly Chaos Book Three of the Ungodly Series

Chapter Twenty-Six: I'll Do Anything

Phoebie woke alone on her great-Aunt's couch. A note was on the table next to her along with a glass of water.

Work calls, so sorry SweetPea. Your great-aunt is at a doctor's appointment. Not sure when she'll be back. My shift ends at 10. If you need me, numbers below.

Love,

Aunty Em

Phoebie threw the note back onto the table with disgust. None of them were going to help her. It was pointless to come here. Holding her lower abdomen, she threw her legs over the edge of the couch, hesitating on the edge for a moment before forcing herself up onto her feet. She was still a little woozy from her Uncle Bel's induced deep-sleep after her Aunt helped her heal. She recalled no dreams, so at least she knew her Uncle hadn't fed on her. She made a face.

“Aww, what's the matter little Sorceress? Such a sour face for one so pretty.” A masculine voice purred behind her. Phoebie jumped and turned swiftly. Every time someone snuck up on her lately, it never ended well. Phoebie raised a hand as if to fend the intruder off.

“Who are you?” She tilted her head. She felt like she should know this person.. being... A bushy white-tipped orange tail swished from behind the man-like creature, deep orange ears with black tips perched on the outside of the top of his head. He grinned, exposing sharp teeth, and she saw by his crossed arms that his hands ended in sharp-tipped nails. “What are you?” Phoebie corrected and the man made a face.

“You know, you and your aunt are remarkably similar. Rude.” He remarked, then vaulted himself over the back of the couch to bounce into a seated position. Phoebie made a noise in the back of her throat.

“If she sent you here to watch me, tell my Aunt I don't need a baby-sitter.” Phoebie snorted, moving so that the low table was now between her and the stranger. He made a derisive sound himself at that, leaning back and throwing his feet up on the coffee table, placing his hands behind his head. His orange ears twitched.

“Oh no sweetheart, she and I aren't quite on good enough terms for her to put someone she loves in my care.” He examined Phoebie carefully. “Which is mostly why I'm here. I upset your Aunty quite badly and I'd like to get back into her good graces because she has something I want. So, if I help you do what you're planning, since nobody else dares, it might just earn me a few-how do you humans phrase it? Brownie points?” He grinned at her and Phoebie backed up, reaching for a chair.

“Are you offering.. to help me save Rafe?” She whispered breathlessly. The grin he offered her widened and he shrugged.

“Yep.” He said simply. Phoebie collapsed into the chair.

“Yes please.” She murmured, her voice barely more than a wheeze. She knew she was being foolish, she didn't know anything about this man, if he was trustworthy, or if he was a ice-cold serial killer. But Phoebie would do anything to save Rafe, to get him back. Even if it meant aligning herself with the devil himself. “Yes please.” She repeated, pegging the strange man with a determined glare. He grinned again, a cocky, self-assured look. Phoebie hoped she wasn't making a mistake.

--------------------------

“Bad news birdy, you gotta wake up. The council wants to talk to you again.” Rafe was yanked upwards by the man he'd come to think of as his jailer. He squawked as his shoulder complained. Without his Familiar Bond with Phoebie to sustain him, or rather the closeness and blood that was needed to sustain that Bond, Rafe was taking entirely too long to heal, and he was in a great deal of pain. He hissed as his jailer thrust him forward to make him walk faster.

“If I had the capabilities...” Rafe snarled.

“Yeah well, you don't right now birdy, so shut your beak.” His jailer shoved Rafe's injured shoulder and Rafe let loose a cry worthy of a Raven in distress. Everyone in the pavilion they were crossing though paused. From what Rafe had gathered so far, this place was something like a cross between Atlantis, Mount Olympus and any other combinations of gods abodes that had faded into myth over time. It seemed to be a popular gathering place for those seeking recompense for slights, real or imagined, against other gods, humans, spirits, and the likes. It also seemed to be a place of networking and the pavilion they now crossed through had an assortment of vendors selling wares from their particular cultures, planes, religions, or in some cases, those with gifts, offering their services, if you could afford the price. Rafe stumbled on the chain binding his wrists to his ankles, and remembered he had to lift it out of his way. “Make that noise again pretty bird, and you won't be so pretty anymore.” Hissed his jailer, shoving Rafe forward again as people went back about their business. Well, Rafe referred to them as people. Most were beings of some sort, but they weren't all humanoid, some didn't look like anything Rafe could even imagine. He remembered Emma once mentioning that Angels in the bible often had inhuman appearances, so she was surprised how human-like Bel was. Although, to Rafe, Bel wasn't anything like a human, but now he understood what she meant. What was that thing over there? Some sort of crystal wheel thing with eyes and wings? Rafe shuddered.

“Stop staring and move faster, birdy.” The jailer poked him in the back and Rafe shuffled forward again. Somebody held the door open ahead for him and he ducked through and into the silent chamber hall of the council.

“Ah come in, come in, we've been expecting you.” Called one of the gods and Rafe gritted his teeth. They didn't have to make it like some sort of social visit, this was anything but. They were deciding Rafe, Phoebie and their children's future. These idiots acted like they were enjoying some sort of entertainment. One of the gods laughed.

“Indeed, to us, this is entertainment, little Raven. We haven't had a case this interesting in years, no, centuries.” The god called. Rafe cursed himself for his stupidity. Of course they could read his thoughts. He pulled as much of his conscious thought process behind a brittle blank wall and stared only at the chain links in his hands, until it was the only thing in his mind.

“Oh come now little Raven, that's hardly fair.” Pouted another god. Rafe examined the welded spot of the link, the gentle dark line that defined where it had been forced to meld together, the short smooth plane of metal, then the swoop of the link, slightly twisted until a long length of unbroken metal until another curve upwards until he once again encountered the melded line. Over and over he traced the link, waiting for the gods to get to the gods-forsaken point. The room became silent around him for several long moments as he stared at the chain, noting more imperfections the longer he studied it. One of the gods huffed.

“Fine, I'll start, since this is obviously going nowhere. We've had testimony now from your jailer and from your, ahem, medical assistant, who was unable to provide the medical purge we requested. Apparently, it is nearly impossible to restrain you without your compliance, and you cling so firmly to your memories that the medical personnel all agree that certain reasons may make it impossible to remove the memories we wish eradicated. Our questions are these: Tell us in your own words why you fight against the purge and the restraints. Explain your reasoning to us. Know that your answer may not change your fate, but may change the manner of execution.” The god stated. Rafe felt the feathers burst along his shoulders and back and several of the gods gasped.

“But those chains are-”

“It looks like it's true-”

“Hush now. Little Familiar, your explanation please...”

Rafe finally looked up at the gods after their babble of voices ceased.

“I've already told you.” He growled. “Time and time again, but you all continue to ignore me. I love Phoebie. And if I'm half as lucky as I believe I am, she loves me at least half as much as I love her. She's not controlling my actions. She's not got me under some kind of 'spell'. She's not manipulating me. We are in love. I have a family, a home. She's pregnant. Our second clutch. I have to get back to her before...”

“Enough.” One of the gods held up his hand. And Rafe ground his teeth together. “This is not the answer the council was seeking. Any fool can claim love. How can you prove it?” The god thundered. Rafe searched the room desperately. What were they looking for? How did one 'prove' love? It was intangible, a feeling, there was no physical thing he could present to them...

“I.. do not know how to do this. Love isn't something you prove to anyone except maybe your beloved.” Rafe sighed. There was scattered disappointed conversation amongst the gods.

“Well then, we've made our decision, we will proceed with the memory purge and stasis tomorrow... We will reconsider the punishment for the Sorceress.” One of the gods spoke.

“No, please! Please don't harm Phoebie! Whatever you have planned.. just do it to me! Leave her alone!” Rafe shouted as his jailer started yanking him from the room. “Please, I'm begging you! Leave her be! I'll take her punishment!” The god who had spoken last held up a hand and Rafe's jailer stopped pulling on him. Rafe jerked his arm free and hobbled forward towards the gods. “Please. She doesn't deserve any more punishment! Losing me is more than enough! She'll never stop mourning! Please, just, don't do anything else. It wasn't even her fault! It was her Aunt's idea! Phoebie just wanted to be there for the kids!” Rafe fell to his knees in front of them. The feathers on his arms and back retreated as he panicked, and the gods began to look between one another.

“We will reconvene with this new information.” A god at the end of the council's table said and Rafe was snatched upwards and dragged from the room, fear and tears filling his eyes.