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       #Post#: 172--------------------------------------------------
       Black Ties: Part 10
   DIR By: Gallowtree
       Date: September 27, 2020, 7:06 pm
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       Chapter 10
       Brom dismissed the two wardens with a curt gesture; their grey
       cloaks swept gently back as they sheathed their swords and left
       the room.  That was a good sign – something, maybe, that told me
       that perhaps this wouldn’t end in Dante’s imprisonment or
       execution.  Dante shook a little beside me.  He looked strung
       out, as if all the physical strength he had had been drained in
       one shot, exhausted by Kazvineroth in the throes of banishment.
       His normal, flush complexion was pallid and waxy.  He ran one
       hand through his hair, and steadied himself with the other.
       Brom was taking all of this in, his gaze fixed on Dante.  I felt
       like kicking Dante in the shins to get him to straighten up…this
       was looking less and less recoverable.
       “Everything’s under control here, boss,” I said, hoping that I
       sounded more confident than I felt.
       Brom looked at me, back at Dante, then began to pace around us,
       looking at the symbols that Dante had drawn on the floor.
       Gage’s eyes were on them too, and our eyes met for a moment.
       There was a look of genuine alarm in the gaze she returned.
       “You two are a little long in the tooth for doodling on the
       walls, are you not?” Brom said, coming to a stop in front of us.
       “We sure are, sir, and we’ll have this cleaned up and squared
       away before you know it,” Dante said, getting back to himself.
       “No, no, that’s all right,” Brom said, smiling, “I\m going to
       have Gage and our other experts have a look at this in short
       order; I’m sure it will be illuminating.
       “Unless, of course, you’d like to tell me what it all means?”
       “I take it I’m headed for a cell?” Dante asked, a touch of anger
       in his voice.
       This wasn’t going to end well; I knew that the moment I saw
       Dante scribbling away, or should I say, Kazvineroth scribbling
       away.  We had locked up Dante four times since he started here
       (only once before they put some fine touches on the spell that
       bound Kaz).  Every time we did it, I felt we were in the wrong,
       because despite the danger that Kaz posed to us, he hurt Dante
       even more by forcing us to imprison him.  Having been in prison
       a number of times in my life, I knew the hell that confinement
       really was.  Maybe Kaz knew that too, being imprisoned in Dante
       as it was.  They were both each other’s keepers.
       “Brom, I know this looks bad,” I began, “but I think putting
       Dante under confinement would be a mistake.”
       “Oh really,” he replied, “and how would you suggest we proceed?”
       I swung like any other dumb monkey out onto the limb, hoping to
       make the next branch.
       “We could have him escorted by a warden, maybe even one of us,”
       I suggested, “maybe he could help decipher what the demon
       wrote?”
       Brom looked back and forth from myself and Dante, narrowed his
       eyes, and shook his head.
       “I don’t think so Max.  Your presence here is questionable, and
       since I am still in charge of this facility, I can’t let such a
       thing pass.”
       “Wait,” blurted Gage, charging in between Brom and ourselves.
       “Do you have something to add to this, young lady?”
       So…Gage wanted to soar above the jungle too…I exhaled and waited
       for the hammer to fall; we were all going to be locked up.
       “Dante was with me in the lab until about half an hour ago, and
       he brought his bag with him to work out.  He obviously went to
       the gym after he left the lab, sir,” she said.
       “The gym is usually locked up for the night,” Brom said, raising
       an eyebrow at Gage.
       “Whoa now,” I said, “that was my fault Brom – I picked it to get
       in.”
       “You never told me you could do that!” Gage said, turning back
       to me.
       Brom put a palm to his forehead and his other hand on his hip,
       frowning.
       “All right,” he said, quietly, “you,” he said, pointing to
       Dante, “report to confinement immediately.  You two will report
       to me in the morning, and you better damn well have something to
       say about tonight’s action in the park.”
       I looked over at Dante, who was staring at the writing on the
       floor; sweat had broken out on his forehead, and he stood very
       still with his hands in his pockets.  He looked up at Gage.
       Gage inhaled quickly, and I grabbed her arm.
       “It’s nothing,” she whispered, fixing me with a determined look
       that said, more or less ‘shut up.’
       “Problem?” Brom asked.
       “Nothing, sir,” I replied.
       “Good night then, children,” he said, “try not to bugger up any
       more of my evening – sleep may be a luxury at my age, but it is
       one I would like to indulge in for at least a couple of hours
       tonight.”
       Brom made a gesture to say ‘after you’ to Dante, and Dante left
       the gym.  Brom followed him out, his staff at the ready.  The
       old man mirrored our own disquiet.  I turned back to Gage.
       “What the hell is with you?” I asked.
       “No, Max: my turn – what the hell happened here?”
       I told her what happened in the gym.
       “Now,” I said afterward, “what passed between you and Dante
       earlier?”
       In answer, she reached into her lab robe, down her front, and
       pulled out the communication stone.
       “While Bromwell was laying down the law, Dante had a good look
       at the Kaz’ writing.  You know Dante doesn’t know much about
       deciphering magical script, but he found some of it pretty
       familiar.”
       “What do you mean familiar?”
       “Have a closer look at the script,” she said, pointing a
       particular point in the rambling scribbles.
       I looked closely at them, trying to make out anything in the
       snarl of writing.  At first, there was nothing at all familiar;
       the language was some dialect of infernal that I hadn’t seen
       before – there were probably just as many kinds as the regions
       of hell that demons called home.  But maybe…there, and there…and
       there again.  There were strange little pictograms, separated by
       lines of script.  Holy crap, it was so obvious.  I pitied Gage
       sometimes, having to wait for me to get the punchline.  Among
       the scribbles, among the incomprehensible jumble of the demon’s
       babbling, were pieces of an inscription that I had seen only one
       place before – on Dante’s skin.  Gage read the dawning
       apprehension on my face.
       “Dante must’ve had a stone in his pocket,” she said, “because he
       communicated to me that he believes that the demon is working
       towards breaking the lock.”
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