NOVEL WEB 386. Spiders and Flies
A circle of nobles surrounded Brightbriar, all of them tittering and hanging on to his every word, giving him the undivided attention of sycophants. Ike reached their circle and found them an impenetrable barrier of shifting skirts and jostling shoulders. He grunted in frustration and lifted his hand to forcibly shove them apart.
"Now, now. Let's make some room for our young friend, hmm?" Brightbriar suggested, and the group split, a few glancing at Ike as if they'd only just now seen him for the first time, despite their transparently obvious efforts to 'subtly' block him from entering the circle. He stepped forward, into the circle.
For the first time, Ike and Brightbriar stood opposite one another, eye to eye. Ike waited, watching for him to make the first move. Brightbriar waited, a patient expression and a mild smile on his face. For a long few seconds, their staredown continued in utter silence, neither of them willing to speak first.
At last, Ike scoffed. "Would you like me to call you 'Father,' you piece of shit?"
There were audible gasps all around him, the palace types excited for some fresh gossip. Ike didn't care. It wasn't his reputation he was ruining. Of course, he would've been absolutely startled if Brightbriar reacted, and as per his expectations, the man did not. He simply raised a brow and looked at Ike. "I wouldn't mind that."
"So what's your big plan, huh?" Ike asked.
Brightbriar smiled. "I thought you had it all figured out."
"I'm not stupid. I can't read your crazy little mind. All I can do is guess, and if I nailed it, I'd be more startled than the other way around." Ike crossed his arms. He knew Brightbriar knew his thoughts. There was no pretending he didn't. That Scar puppet could only have come from one person, and Ike was looking right at him.
"Ah, well, it is true. Although I like the idea… and perhaps I should lend more credence to an idea a fragment came up with—you are correct that it is not my plan." Brightbriar smiled and gestured to Ike. "Why should I bother, when my prodigal son has come home to me?"
Ike frowned at him. There was absolutely nothing that would make him 'come home to' Brightbriar. He'd rather die… well, no, he'd rather kill Brightbriar, but there would definitely be violence, if he had any say in it.
He stepped forward. Before he realized it, he'd crossed half the distance between him and Brightbriar. Forcibly, Ike stopped himself, freezing in place. He frowned, narrowing his eyes. What? What's going on? My body's moving on its own…
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Brightbriar smiled expectantly, hand still out toward him, and Ike realized what was happening. The archer! What was that silver-haired prick's name, the last fragment I absorbed? The one Brightbriar deliberately sent out—I thought to test me, but it seems like he had more plans in store! Accais—that was his name. Accais. Now that I think about it, I never properly absorbed him, or came to any understanding with him. It was the same as when he'd first absorbed the King, and the King had taken over his body, except Accais was on Brightbriar's side, and deliberately throwing everything into Brightbriar's hands, whether Ike was on board or not.
Accais lifted his leg again. Ike forcibly lowered it, refusing to step any closer. Sweat ran down his forehead from the effort of fighting his own body. He had to focus all his attention on freezing in place, and couldn't take any time to battle Accais mentally. Clearly, his low jabs on Accais's psychology before weren't enough to actually floor him. Maybe he'd been faking submission all this time, just for this moment. No—the more he thought, the more likely it seemed. Ike gritted his teeth, frustrated at himself for the obvious foresight, angry that he was humiliated like this in front of Brightbirar. If only he'd been a little more wary, then, then—
We've got this.
Ike startled. Within him, the Prince moved, grabbing Accais and pulling him back, out of control of Ike's body. The two of them grappled, and control came and faded. Ike forced himself to step back, away from Brightbriar.
"Hmm?" Brightbriar raised his brows, giving Ike an appraising look, mildly impressed with him, like the way one looked at a prize horse when they discovered just how fast its start was—as if he was already Brightbriar's belonging, nothing more than an object.
Within Ike, the King loomed over the archer, his face dark and thundery. "Disgusting filth, squirming around at Brightbriar's command. Die."
He struck with his sword, and Accais' head flew. Ike raised his brows. Is he dead?
"Only dispelled for perhaps a day or two," the King replied.
That was more than enough. Ike stopped straining and easily retreated, retaking his original place opposite Brightbriar. He crossed his arms and sneered. "Is that all you have?"
"Oh, my dear boy. Of course not," Brightbriar said, and the nobles who'd been clustered all around him, chattering excitedly, suddenly went blank-faced and lunged.
Ike kicked off the floor hard and leaped over the nobles, flipping in midair to land on his feet behind them. The nobles instantly spun and leaped after him. All around him, other nobles—those not puppetized—shrieked and fled, gripping their lavish robes as they hoofed it, while other nobles turned woodenly, steel whispering as they drew their swords.
Mag looked up. Scar sighed deeply, then lifted her bracelet to her mouth and whispered into it. Over at the buffet, Wisp finally looked up.
"'E 'ightin'?" she shouted, through a mouthful of food.
"Oh yeah, we're fighting," Ike replied.
She swallowed and shot spiderthread into the ceiling, swinging over to stand beside Ike. "Hell yeah. Now this is my kind of party! Free food and a brawl."
"Isn't that every bar brawl for you?" Ike asked. It wasn't like Wisp was going to pay for food, and she'd get her fight that way.
"It hits different when you're the one starting the fight, and they're always too drunk to taste good," Wisp said regretfully.
Ike shook his head. Right, I forgot, man-eating spider. He drew his sword. "Come on. Let's take this nerd and his freaky puppets down."