Rat made her way inside the mansion. It was easy. As usual, no one took any notice of her—despite the fact that she kept a running monologue going at all times: “Oh, that’s some fine work on the renovations. Precision craftsmanship. So elegant. And if Miss Ballard is right, it was all done so quickly, too.” Smiling, she paused to address a tray-holding servant who couldn’t see or hear her: “Look at that molding! No one appreciates good molding anymore. I wonder how much of it was original to the mansion, you know?”
But Rat quickly lost her smile; truthfully, she felt awful for the Mistress Vess’ collared “servants.”
“It’s just flat-out not right. I don’t even like it when I see the Orzhov treating thrulls this way. And these are humans, no different from me or Teyo. I swear if someone tried to put a collar on Teyo—or, you know, Mistress Kaya—I’d get Gruul-level ornery on their asses, you know? I’d be like, Mother, can I borrow your axe?” This last bit was spoken to a girl about her own age replacing and lighting a candle in a sconce.
Rat got up close to the girl. “Oh, you look so frightened. I can feel the fear coming off you in waves. I mean you’re just lighting a candle and your hands are shaking so hard you can barely bring the match to the wick. What would she do to you if you messed up this one little candle? Listen, I know you can’t hear me, but maybe sorta in your brain I can reassure you a little. You see, we’re here. And we may not know exactly what’s going on yet, but I promise you that Mistress Kaya, Teyo and me, we’re not gonna let this stand. We’ll find some way to fix this. Can’t promise your life’ll be perfect afterward, right? We all got our troubles. Whatever whats we have to deal with. But we won’t leave you wearing a collar. I promise; I promise; I promise.” She thought this as hard as she could at the girl.
But there was too much fear for Rat’s minor psychic thing to cut its way through.
Better just get on with this then.
She moved into the large expansive dining room. More “servants” were here, bringing some kind of whipped confection for dessert. Still more “servants” were in the corner, playing music for guests, who seemed to take no notice whatsoever of the collared prisoners making their lives pleasant.
Like this whole place was staffed by a legion of me.
One laughing guest at the far end of the feast said, “Mistress Vess, you set a remarkable table.”
Rat scoffed loudly: “Except she didn’t set it, did she?”
No one paid her any mind, so she focused on the woman accepting the compliment.
“You honor me, Lord Valois,” said “Mistress Liliana Vess” with a slight dip of her well-coiffed head. In contrast with her elegance, two large and fairly hideous zombies guarded the necromancer from behind her chair. Rat noticed that the collared servants who came anywhere near their mistress or her bodyguards seemed to be doing everything in their power to be especially efficient. Efficient and invisible—insignificant and Rat-like—desperate to avoid notice.
Rat scurried around to the head of the table for a closer look. This “Mistress Vess” had dark hair and was somewhat pretty…but otherwise looked nothing at all like the true Miss Raven-Hair. Even covered with dirt from the garden, the real Miss Liliana was beautiful, in a smoky, dangerous sorta way. This woman wasn’t anything like that.
Nothing special at all, really. Except maybe that choker she’s wearing. That’s kinda sparkly and keen! Still, I bet it would look even better on the actual Miss Liliana.
The bejeweled choker featured a large central amulet at the woman’s throat with a sizable sapphire of a rich, dark blue. There was something kinda mesmerizing about it, and Rat found she had to tear her eyes away.
And not just because it’s sparkly!
Rat was on Mistress Vess’ right, staring directly at her, studying her close. Then she noticed the hostess’ left hand was tapping on a bound volume. Dodging the two zombies, Rat whipped around the back of the mistress’ chair to the other side and peered down at the book in the candlelight. It was a printed copy of something titled The Fall of the House of Vess. Moreover, though this faux Mistress Vess might not look much like the true Miss Raven-Hair, she did look exactly like the illustration of Miss Liliana Vess on the cover of the book. She double-checked this two, three, four times. Exactly like the illustration. Even the hairstyle and the dress were the same. The only difference was the choker with its blue gem.
And speaking of gems…
Beside the book was another even more interesting item partially covered by a cloth napkin. Rat was quite sure it was the egg-shaped gem that had belonged to the Elder Dragon Bolas. The one he had used to absorb the Sparks of so many Planeswalkers. Rat distinctly remembered that when the dragon disintegrated, his gem had fallen atop the pyramid. And she remembered that Miss Liliana—the real Miss Liliana—had picked it up just before planeswalking away. Now here it sat, beside Mistress Book Cover, the candlelight sparkling on its almost liquid surface. Rat’s pockets were currently stuffed with diamonds, but she found she’d be willing to trade them all for this prize.
Just then, Mistress Book Cover tapped her crystal goblet with her spoon to get everyone’s attention. The murmur of pleasantries and the consumption of dessert quickly settled into near silence, and all eyes looked her way (Rat’s included).
She stood and spoke. “Gentlemen and ladies, I am honored that you have joined me here at my home. I know for some of you this reunion of the Cabal is not a happy occasion…”
She let the sentence and the sentiment hang, and on cue a round of protests circled the table to the obviously pre-assumed gratification of the hostess.
She went on: “Until very recently, all of you held sway over vast territories when the Cabal was at its peak under Belzenlok. And most of you believe the Cabal’s time has passed now that the demon is gone. But as I hope you’ve seen here tonight, there’s another option. For let’s be honest, my new friends, you did all the work. You kept the people in check. You kept the coffers flowing. The demon didn’t do that. You did. You are the true heroes of the Cabal.”
This also met with general approval. Rat had no idea what this Cabal was, but she had a pretty good idea it must be fairly horrible.
I mean “Cabal” is not a word that inspires happy feelings, right?
“So what’s missing? What did Belzenlok actually provide?” asked Mistress Book Cover. “He wasn’t just a figurehead, of course. It’s not enough to simply inspire fear. You need a leader who can back that fear up with actual power. Enough power to keep the peasants in line. Enough power to protect the Cabal from the Benalish and the Serrans and anyone else who might seek to once again bring down our great works. And yes, I did say ‘our.’ Because before I made my presence known in the Caligo, I infiltrated—yes, ‘infiltrated’—the Cabal to see if I found it worthy. And I did. The only problems, as I saw it, were the whims of Belzenlok, which actually served to hold us all back. And those problems no longer exist. Now only one difficulty remains. Who shall take the demon’s place?”
She paused again. The room was dead silent.
Lord Valois swallowed hard, cleared his throat and proposed, “The Curse of the House of Vess.”
She gave another small bow of her head as he took up her cause: “It makes sense, my friends. She has a name and a story that is the stuff of every child’s nightmare. Do you know of a single household in all the land that doesn’t have a copy of that book? And yes, I know we all think of it as a children’s tale. But every adult was a child once, and the best fears hew back to those early days. If we were all being honest, everyone at this table fears the necromancer Liliana Vess. And fear her they should.”
Rat thought that this impromptu speech of the lord’s sounded very well rehearsed.
“And it isn’t just the name. Liliana Vess has the power to back it up. You see what she’s done here…” He stood unexpectedly and grabbed a tight hold of a collared servant—an old man with an elegantly trimmed white beard—palming the back of his head. “These people cower before her. They’ve rebuilt this home—her home—in a matter of weeks. They serve her night and day. They know they can do nothing to defy her. Should they speak even a single word of treason…They. Will. Burn.”
A tear began to roll down the old man’s cheek. Rat was half inclined to leap up onto the table, run down its length and stab Lord Valois in the throat.
The lord released the old servant and pushed him away before taking his seat and resuming. “That’s two criteria down. What remains? Trust. Yes, trust. We want a leader whom we can trust to put the Cabal above his or her own petty grudges. Belzenlok invited his fall by playing cat and mouse with some ancient sorceress from his past. A sorceress who gathered allies to help her. If I might ask Mistress Vess…do you have old enemies that should be of some concern to us?”
“I do not.”
“And why is that, if I’m not too bold?”
“Not too bold, Lord. It is a reasonable question. Perfectly reasonable. I have no old enemies because every enemy I’ve ever had is dead. And the only way they could come back to interfere with the Cabal is if I myself raise them. And frankly, I’m simply not enough of a fool to ever make that mistake. When I raise the dead, I control them completely and absolutely.” As if to prove the point, Mistress Vess waved her hand at the two zombies that stood behind her chair.
It was only then that Rat made another—perhaps obvious—discovery. Close as she was to the two undead guards, it suddenly occurred to her that neither had any scent. She’d seen plenty of zombies among the Golgari and Rakdos, and she’d never known one not to “completely and absolutely” stink of rotting flesh.
Something smells very wrong here, and it’s not these zombies.
Lord Valois was saying, “So you see, my friends—my old comrades—the Cabal can rise again.”
Mistress Book Cover corrected him, “The Cabal will rise again.”
Then, led by Lord Valois, the rest of the guests took up the chant: “The Cabal will rise again. The Cabal will rise again. The Cabal will rise again!”
Meanwhile, on a hunch, Rat reached out to touch the zombie closest to her—and as she suspected, her hand passed right through the creature…
It’s an illusion!
Unfortunately, Rat’s attempt caused the sapphire at Mistress Book Cover’s throat to glow. Blue smoke poured forth from the amulet into both zombies, rendering them solid enough to smash their fists against the wall, leaving dents that the poor servants would later have to repair. Simultaneously, Mistress Book Cover shot to her feet and looked around. Rat stepped back, momentarily fearful. But the mistress’ eyes passed right over her as the hostess addressed her guests: “We have an intruder here. A trespasser. Some sorcery hides this spy from our vision. But the spy exists and must be caught. Now.”
Around the table, many of the guests rose to their feet. They began casting counter magic of all sorts, but this hardly terrified Rat. For years, when she was younger, her parents had sought to find a spell to cure her condition.
None of that stuff ever worked.
Still, she figured she had better get going…
But not before I scoop up that shiny on the table.
Rat grabbed Bolas’ gem. But as soon as she touched it, multiple shouts rang out: “There!” and “I see her!” and “It’s just a girl!” and “A thief!” and worst of all, “Get her!”
Mistress Book Cover waved her zombies forward and said with a voice like ice, “Take her. Now.”
A panicked Rat dropped the gem and ran.
More voices echoed across the room as Rat scurried out of it: “Where’d she go?” and “I’ve lost her again!” and “Which spell revealed her?” and “Secure the perimeter!”
Mistress Book Cover screamed in fury.
Rat fled, but wasn’t afraid. Quite the reverse. She knew down to her soul that none of the Cabal’s spells had revealed her to the room.
It was the gem. The gem of Nicol Bolas. Holding it made me…significant. Holding that gem…that’s the cure to my Curse!