Chapter 35
Griffin
Iskander made a gagging sound and put his hand to his mouth. Christine hissed in disgust. From one of the other cages, Orion Marsh let out a shriek. As for myself, I could only gaze on in frozen horror. Stanford had perverted his own flesh, twisted his body into something as corrupt as his rotten soul.
He meant to spread his poison to the maelstrom. Defile it with his touch.
“Stanford,” Niles said. “What...what have you done to yourself?”
“Take a good look,” Stanford said, spreading his arms wide. “Thanks to my perseverance, my fortitude, I stand on the precipice of becoming far greater than any of you could ever dream.”
Heliabel stared, shaking her head back and forth slowly. I couldn’t even imagine how she must feel at this moment. “What have you done?” she echoed.
Stanford chuckled, and the sound chilled my blood. Did he have any shred of sanity left? “The Fideles are indeed faithful,” he said. “Unlike you, my family. And unlike my dear, dear friends over there.”
He gestured to Orion and Fred, who clutched one another like men in a nightmare. “What good friends we were,” Stanford crooned at them. “Remember happier times, gents? The clubs, the whores, the drink. Recall the weekend we spent in New York, when you visited me on Fifth Avenue? I showed you a good time then, didn’t I?” When neither answered, he took a threatening step toward them. “Didn’t I?”
“Y-Yes!” Fred cried. Orion seemed too terrified to give a coherent answer.
It satisfied Stanford, at any rate. “Exactly. But did you stand by me, when I was shipped off to the asylum for my supposed crimes?”
“Y-You threatened to kill us,” Fred said, as though he believed it might still be possible to have a rational argument with Stanford. “At the museum, I mean. What was your friendship worth then?”
I didn’t know if Fred was brave or an idiot. “I asserted my rights,” Stanford growled. “I should have been in control of Widdershins from that night on. If you had given me my due, I would have rewarded you. But you stabbed me in the back, just like everyone else. Afraid of my greatness.”
Dear God, he’d come utterly unhinged. “So you’ve turned yourself into a monster in revenge?” I asked. “That seems more like a punishment for you than them.”
Stanford turned on me like a striking snake. “Shut up, sodomite. I captured you because I hoped to tear you to pieces in front of my weeping brother. But since he was too cowardly to stand and face me like a man, you’re far less entertaining.”
I held myself very still. If Stanford decided to kill me out of hand, there was little I could do to stop him.
I had to live. My Ival needed me. Widdershins needed me.
“Griffin is only putting into words what the rest of us are thinking,” Heliabel said. Drawing Stanford’s attention from me. “You were my little boy, once, Stanford. Strong and healthy. Now look at you.”
“I could say the same, Mother. You’ve become just as much a monster as me.”
The ketoi might be fearsome, but Stanford...his form was wrong in a way I couldn’t adequately explain. Twisted, foul, and revolting on an animal level.
“This was necessary,” Stanford went on. “You see, once my true friends rescued me from that prison and convinced the doctors I’d never been there to begin with, they told me just how deep the betrayal ran. Bad enough you gave all your affection to that simpering worm Percival when we were children. Bad enough he ultimately turned even Father against me. But worst of all, he and the sea witch took the power that should have been mine.”
“Nonsense,” Niles barked. “You aren’t even making sense, boy. What the devil do you think Percival has taken from you?”
“The maelstrom should have chosen me.” Stanford’s hands clenched at his sides. “None of this land and sea nonsense. What was needed was a single, strong man who could rule this town with a firm hand. Who could bring the old families into line, and force the ketoi to bend their knee.” He shook his head. “But it isn’t too late to make things right. I have the same bloodline as the twins do. I can withstand the touch of the vortex’s power. Tonight, I’ll take what should have rightfully been mine from the beginning.”
Dear God. Was what he suggested even possible?
Stanford moved a few feet away, hands folded behind him, then turned back to us. “Nyarlathotep. The Man in the Woods. The architect of the maelstrom, who planned the means by which the arcane lines could be twisted, joined, to serve the will of the masters.”
“Oh no,” Iskander whispered.
“When he learned of its defiance, he was not pleased,” Stanford went on. “But he had a solution—one to which I was key. He shared it with his sorcerers, and showed them the necessary spells and sigils in their dreams.”
“And...this?” Heliabel asked, gesturing to Stanford’s body.
“The twins were only blobs of flesh within your womb when the maelstrom’s fragments settled into them. Malleable enough to absorb the Immortal Fire without damage. But the body of an adult is less plastic. I needed to join something from the Outside. To feed and nurture it, first on Abbott. Then the others of the old blood.” Stanford glanced at Orion and Fred. “Despite the betrayal of my friends, I was generous enough to clear the way for them to inherit. I hope you two appreciate it. If not, I’m sure I can find someone in your families who would like to take your place.”
Fred swallowed convulsively. “Of-of course we’re grateful. A-aren’t we, Orion?”
Orion nodded. He looked like a man trapped in a terrible dream, unable to wake.
“Better,” Stanford said.
“This is madness.” Niles clutched the wooden bars of his cage, staring out at Stanford. “Please, son. You’re hurting your friends, your mother. Yourself. Stop this and think.”
“I’ve had nothing to do for two years but think!” Stanford struck the cage with one of his feeding tentacles; had Heliabel not hauled Niles back, it would have made contact with his hand. “But no more. Tonight is my ascension. Nyarlathotep will come forth in response to my summons. He will strip the fragment of the maelstrom from the sea witch and give it to me.” Stanford turned away. “And when you see my true power, you’ll both finally realize you chose the wrong son.”
He departed, anger in every line of his body. Kolter watched us for a few moments, then followed, though not before summoning a pack of Hounds to patrol the clearing.
Niles slumped forward in despair. Heliabel absently patted his shoulder. Her jaw was clenched, though whether from anger or in an attempt not to shed tears for her misbegotten eldest child, I didn’t know.
“This is bad,” Christine said.
Iskander shook his head unhappily. “I’m fairly certain everyone already knew that.”
I stared out at the clearing, watching the Hounds circle. Perhaps I should have felt despair, or fear. As Christine had said, we were in a very bad situation.
But I didn’t. All I could feel at the moment was anger.
When I had been at my lowest, lost and broken, drowning in pain...that was when the maelstrom had chosen to collect me. Even though there had been others whose minds had been touched by the umbrae, even though I had barely been able to drag my battered soul from one hour to the next, it had chosen me. It had seen worth in me, when I’d not seen it in myself.
And now Stanford sought to pervert a part of it, in order to undermine the whole in favor of the masters. He meant to take the sparks the maelstrom had set in flesh—flesh I loved very much indeed—and use them to make sure it remained enslaved.
I would not allow it. He would not kill my Ival, and he would not turn the maelstrom’s bid for freedom into shackles.
Not if I had to rip him apart with my bare hands.