Chapter Text
“Why Robert, you look simply marvelous tonight!” Ethel said as she draped a hand down his arm and eyed up the coat that he had worn to the party that night. A friend of a friend had brought him along to the historical dress up soiree happening at the residence of one Roderick Burgess, and he had ended up trapped in a conversation with the man’s incredibly drunk mistress after being introduced and quickly abandoned by his friend of a friend.
He looked down sheepishly at the coat. “Thanks. I bought it just for this occasion!”
That was, of course, a lie. He had bought it in 1785 and stashed it away in a secure storage location when he last “died” and assumed a new identity. It was a good coat with some excellent embroidery. He had worn it to see his friend at their last meeting which hadn’t ended in a fight.
But no, he wasn’t going to think about that tonight. He was going to have fun at this party and not wonder if he would be abandoned in a few decades on their normal date.
Ethel was dressed up in a toga that wouldn’t earn many authenticity points at a contest, but she seemed to be having fun with it. He guessed that was the point.
A waiter walked past and he grabbed a glass of champagne from the tray, bringing it up to his mouth and taking a sip. His eyebrows shot up. “Why this is marvelous!”
“Oh yes!” Ethel grinned. “Only the best at the house of Roderick Burgess. He came into quite some luck about a decade back and let’s just say that the alcohol is not the only thing to have improved.” Her eyebrows waggled and he let out an undignified snort.
Taking another sip of the champagne, he sighed. “What sort of luck did he come across to have such fine spirits?”
“Why, spirits! He captured the devil in the basement.”
What the hell (he internally groaned at the pun) kind of party had he stumbled into.
“Oh? The devil himself?”
She looked sheepishly at him. “Well. I don’t know if it’s the actual devil, you know? But it’s definitely some kind of demonic being! It doesn't eat, doesn’t sleep. Just stares at you with those dark eyes.”
Okay this was starting to sound like Burgess actually had someone or something trapped in his basement. Was he supposed to do something about that?
“And how has that improved his luck?”
“I’m not quite sure. All I know is that it hasn’t done what Roderick wants yet, but just being around it seems to have given us good fortune and the like.”
He… he needed to do something about this. The comment that his friend had made all those years ago rang through his head. You may not die, but you can be captured. Something was captured, be it demon or fellow immortal. He had to find out and try to help.
He took another sip of the champagne for courage, and put on a blinding smile. “I know something about negotiations with otherworldly beings myself.”
A gasp came out of Ethel’s mouth. “You do!?”
“Ay. I’ve been in a few scraps with one. There’s a trick to it.”
“Oh my! You have to meet Roderick! He would love to meet with you.”
She grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the other side of the large room. They moved around clusters of people all chatting with each other, bypassed someone who he distantly recalled being told was Roderick’s son, and eventually got to a staircase which Ethel began to quickly climb.
Beyond the stairs was a closed office door that Ethel gently knocked her hand against before sticking her head in.
“Dear?” She said, “I have someone I would like you to meet.”
A gruff response too quiet for him to pick up came out of the door, and she grinned back at him before opening it all the way. Hob was treated to the sight of an irritated looking man sitting behind a large wooden desk with an old book open in front of him.
“Robert, this is the Magus Roderick Burgess. Roderick, this is Robert - oh I never got your last name.”
“Um. Golding.” Yeah that was distinct enough.
“Robert Golding. He says that he has experience with supernatural negotiations. I thought you might like to meet him and see what he can do about our guest.”
Suddenly, Hob found the full force of the man’s attention directed at him. He wanted to flinch away, but he managed to stand his ground.
“Supernatural negotiations? How so? What sort of creatures?”
Ah shit. He had to think of something now. His friend was not going to like this if he ever heard about it.
“My ancestor caught the attention of a supernatural creature and it followed our family around through the generations. My father figured out how to get it to leave us alone in 1889 and passed the knowledge down to me. I’ve helped others deal with situations like it.”
Burgess stood up from behind the desk. “You have the knowledge of how to command a supernatural being? How?”
This was where he had to be clever. “Now Magus, I have to keep some things to myself. Tell me about your creature and we shall see if my techniques might be able to work.”
The Magus stared at him for a moment before nodding sharply and turning to Ethel.
“Keep the party going downstairs. I would like to speak to our new friend.”
She grinned and winked. “Course. You’re welcome.”
A moment later, the two were alone.
“What do you know of the Endless, Robert Golding?”
Absolutely nothing! But if there was one thing he had learned in all of his years, it was the skill of bluffing. The Endless sounded like a title, and it sounded plural. “Which one?” He asked, and was rewarded with a grin stretching across the man’s face.
“Ah! Someone who knows! Good good. I speak of Death and Dream. Years ago I sought to summon and imprison Death to bring my son back to me and give me the blessing of immortality. Unfortunately, I caught Dream.”
This was going nowhere good. Also, why would Death itself give anyone immortality? That’s the opposite of the point of death. Whatever. “You caught Dream? What have you demanded in exchange for release?”
“Why, the same thing! He hasn’t said a word to me. He just stares.” Roderick snorted. “It would be so easy for one such as him to fulfill, even without his tools.”
“Do you have his tools?”
“Why the helm, ruby, and sand of course. Took them off him before he began to move.”
Hob didn’t know anything about a helm. But he did know someone with a ruby and sand. Could it be? No, his friend wouldn’t be captured. He couldn’t. No.
“What have you done to try and negotiate?” He asked carefully.
“Negotiate?! I’ve demanded. I told him I would let him out if he cooperated, and he hasn’t! Instead I have his stupid bird hounding me at all hours of the night and an absolutely silent captive.”
Well that answered the question Hob had about the black and white raven hopping back and forth on the windowsill. Maybe best to keep that one to himself.
It was time for him to play his hand. “Would you be interested in having another party attempt negotiations? My family has been known to the supernatural for quite some time. Perhaps I could have a go at it?”
The man went still and narrowed his eyes. “What’s in it for you?”
“A paycheck, and the knowledge that I helped another person with their supernatural pest. How does that sound?”
One second passed. Another.
“Fine. Follow me. I'll let you have a look at him.”
Absolutely giddy inside, Hob scrambled gracefully after the man and tried to contain his excitement that he had made it through the ruse thus far. They ended up at the basement door, and Burgess led him into the dark.
The first thing Hob noticed was two guards sitting on chairs next to a wide entrance. Burgess called their names and told them to stand outside the room until they were done. Hob was led past the entrance, and he came to a sudden stop.
In front of him was a large glass container surrounded by magical symbols, and inside the container…
Inside was his friend.
Inside was his friend, who was apparently known as Dream.
He looked bad. He looked sick.
He was laying on the bottom of the glass bubble in a highly contorted position with no clothing to cover him up. A pool of dread rose up in Hob’s heart. He had to let his friend out. But how? He would have to be clever.
Their footsteps echoed in the room, and his friend’s eyes shot open and glared at the Magus. There was so much pain in them.
You can be hurt, you can be captured. What prophetic words turned the other way around.
Hob inhaled sharply, and his friend’s eyes flickered over to him before widening in shock. His friend scrambled upwards into a seated position and stared.
“Why, that’s the fastest he’s ever moved.” Roderick laughed. “Hello Dream. Meet my new acquaintance Robert Golding. He has some experience with getting rid of the supernatural.”
If Hob was a more observant man he would have noticed how his friend’s eyes began to mist, but he was focused on his slow approach to the glass bubble. He crossed the bridge over the water and stopped at the line of magical markings after Burgess shouted a warning.
Crouching down, he came face to face with his friend.
“I hear you’re called Dream.” He said.
His friend just stared, but his eyes somehow widened even more in confirmation.
“Well Dream. It’s nice to meet you. As my new acquaintance the Magus has said, I have some experience in repelling the supernatural.”
The slightest twitch of the mouth in response. Whether up or down he could not tell.
“I would like to discuss the Magus’s request with you in due time. Consider this the beginning of a great friendship .” He sent a small wink towards his friend to try and cautiously get the message across to him.
He lifted his hand and placed it against the glass. All too aware of the Magus’s presence behind him, he watched in shock as his friend lifted his own hand, too pale, too frail, and pressed it against the other side of the glass.
“Hob.” His friend whispered with a crack in his voice.
Burgess rushed forward and Hob dropped his hand away from the glass in response.
“What did he say?” Burgess shouted.
He let a moment pass before standing up. “He said ‘how.’ My guess is he knows of my family and their history.”
“Hmm very well. What progress.” He slapped Hob on the back and pulled him towards the staircase. “We shall continue another day. One week?”
Hob looked back at his friend who continued to stare at him wide eyed with one hand pressed up against the glass.
“Yes. One week.”