Noodle had arrived.
The void cat had unlatched itself from the dark creeping shadows, its flesh-devouring tentacles uncoiling from the depths to thrust itself into the light where its eldritch and somewhat dimensionally-challenged form morphed into a shape more suitable for Waggenrook's delicate sensibilities.
That is, he looked like a small fluffy kitten with glowing purple eyes.
The scream, then, was one of sheer delight at sight of something their female minds had mistakenly translated as cute and deserving of their total and absolute attention.
Noodle seemed to glance at me with a smug look before accepting the sudden avalanche of scritches given to him by my three new guests.
He liked scritches.
I finished handing my coat to Grimsby and sighed. "Be careful," I told them. "He bites."
"Oh, he never would!" Poppy cried. "He's so gorgeous! Oh my gosh! Look at him! His so floooofy! What's your name, you beautiful little man?"
"His name is Noodle," I told them.
"Noodle?" Violet giggled, leaning in to bury her face in his warm fur. "I can't believe how soft he is! Clover, feel it! Feel how soft he is!"
Noodle purred, pleased with their worship. His mind filled with a sudden urge to have them kneel before one of his idols and submit themselves to be sacrificed.
I know this, because we unfortunately shared a mental connection.
I demand flesh, he growled inside my head. Innocent flesh. Flesh torn from screaming tortured virgins whose blood wets my altar and pleases me. I wish their heart to be placed in a bowl so I may feast upon it! The pink-haired one will do for a start. Have her prepared for me.
"Noodle wants to eat Clover," I told my butler. "Could you provide him suitable sacrifice, please?"
"I'll check and see if Mudge has any tuna left."
I glanced at the kitten, who rolled onto his side to accept belly rubs and more awws of delight from the happy trio.
I gave him a sour look as Clover let out an excited squeal. "Is tuna alright with you?"
It will suffice, mortal.
Then Poppy's eyes fluttered shut and she toppled over. Violet let out a cry and lunged to grab her head before it hit the stone floor but, before she could make it, a pillow whipped out of nowhere and landed plush under the little mint-haired girl's head and Grimsby was standing over her with a blanket in his other hand.
"I shall take the young miss to her room, I should think," he said.
"I'm sorry," Violet sighed, looking up at me. "That's how her curse works. She gets too excited…"
"…and just konks out," Clover finished, getting to her feet and watching the butler pick up Poppy's snoring form. "I'll come with you if that's okay?"
"Of course, miss," Grimsby said, not at all offended. "Please, follow me. I can show you to your room, too. Would Miss Violet like to see hers?"
Violet blinked. "I… How…? We didn't even tell you our names!"
"Don't ask," I sighed wearily. "He won't tell you how he does it, and any answer he provides will just frustrate you. And most likely be a lie."
"It's my job to always be aware of Sir's guests," he told her as though I hadn't said anything. "And to anticipate their needs as much as his own."
"You see?" I squinted at him suspiciously but knew better than to argue. "Frustrating!"
"I…" Violet flushed suddenly, looking down at her feet. "I'll stay. There's something I need to ask Taran."
"Very well, miss," Grimsby headed towards the stairs, carrying Poppy as though she weighed nothing. I couldn't see how she was so light. The snoring she was doing sounded like it should have come from a very large lumberjack.
As they left, Violet stood awkwardly, looking all around the room.
At the paintings on the wall.
At the umbrella stand.
At Noodle, who was looking more and more irritated by the second for having been forgotten.
"Umm," she said at last.
"I understand," I said. "It's very strange. You've found yourself in the home of a void mage. That alone would terrify most normal people. And you've no doubt noticed I have an undead butler. This, also, doesn't speak well of me and has perhaps concerned you somewhat. And let's not even discuss the creature at your feet. No, I understand, Violet. But you're safe here, I promise."
"It's not that… It's just…" Her hands were tightly-balled fists at her sides. "My… umm…"
Mortal, tell her to give me belly rubs. I demand more belly rubs.
I slipped on my slippers and approached her slowly. The little blonde girl looked very fragile. I really wanted to put my arms around her and let her know it would all be fine.
"Is it the Guild? I tell you, Violet, it's no trouble for me to approach them on your behalf. And you need not concern yourself with any worry of retribution."
"Oh." She was shaking a little, her face turning a little pale.
"Are you alright, Violet?" I was so close to her I could smell her soft floral perfume. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Could you…" She sucked a deep breath, then tried to look me directly in the eyes while maintaining a level of maturity and practicality that she no doubt acquired in her role as eldest sister. "Taran. I apologise, but could you please check your pocket? I do believe my curse has unfortunately triggered."
I started.
Oh.
I felt my own ears turn red.
"Of course, Violet," I said, patting myself down. "We're both adults. It's a curse, not a deliberate act of reverse pick-pocketing on your part."
She closed her eyes, looking like she wanted to scream as I delved into a pocket which felt more full than it should be.
My fingers wrapped around the soft silky cotton.
I didn't glance at them as I handed her panties back to her. I didn't need to. I could feel their softness and the warmth of her body which had remained on them. That was enough to get the lecherous goblin in my head to look up and smirk.
She took them, her jaw clenched in shame.
"Thank you, Taran."
"You're welcome, Violet."
"I think I might retire to my room now," she said, before muttering softly. "And scream into my pillow."
I chuckled gently and shook my head. "Let me show you the way."
"I'd rather you didn't."
"I know," I said. "But my tower's a little eccentric. Please. This way."
I led her up the stairs which, to her shock, soon started moving under our feet. The walls, too, slowly shifted.
"It's an enchantment," I told her. "You need to keep in mind where you want to go. If, for example, you want to go to the kitchen, you think of it and the stairs will lead you there. In this case, I'm thinking about the guest quarters. And, as you can see, we come to a door."
The stairs had led us to a single door. The narrow walls on either side lit by sconces whose warm magelight filled the stairway with a somewhat cheery glow. Opening the door, we stepped into a long corridor.
She gasped, seeing how long it was.
"It's…"
"Bigger on the inside," I finished for her. "Yes, yes it is. The tower's external façade is mostly cosmetic. If you ever choose to become interested in void magic, the interior is much more exciting. I will show you around more formally tomorrow. Or Grimsby will. But for tonight, this is your room. I imagine your sisters are in the two next to you."
She sighed as I opened the door.
Inside was a simple bed and not much else.
"We don't have much furniture," I said, feeling a little embarrassed by the meagre offering. "I think we will need to go shopping tomorrow."
"Oh!" She darted into the room. "I'm sure this will be fine! It's more than enough. I'm sorry, Taran. I was rude at dinner. When I said you were…"
"Weird?"
"Yes. Do you have to say it, though?"
I chuckled again, trying to let her know everything is fine. "Violet, it seems to me that neither yourself nor your sisters understand what a void mage is. Perhaps when you do, you will realise that calling me weird is neither inaccurate nor unwarranted. I took no offence, I promise you. Now. Should you need anything in the night, or even feel lost in the morning, there's a chain by the bed. Give it a tug and Grimsby will no doubt appear out of the shadows and scare you half to death."
"Thank you, Taran," she said, clutching her panties tightly to her chest. "For… For everything."
"You're welcome, Violet," I told her, closing the door.
I smiled widely, feeling a little floaty in my chest. At first, I thought it might be the fact I had been overwhelmed by not one, but three incredibly beautiful women. And, perhaps, I had been moved by Violet's vulnerability and subsequent trust.
Then I remembered I'd drunk about six or seven Gin and Tonics.
Spinning on my heel, I walked right into Grimsby and nearly bowled the old lich over.
"What are you doing there?" I cried, grabbing at my chest as my heart did backflips.
He held out a warm towel which steamed with the promise of relaxing sensations I greatly enjoyed.
Scowling, I snatched it from him and pressed it to my face to hide my happy grin.
"Thank you, Grimsby."
But when I took the towel away, he was gone and the hall felt emptier than ever before. I waited just in case a tumbleweed floated by.
Nothing.
Creepy.
***
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