by Eric Vall
“We don’t care! Adelia cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted. “We don’t care about the house, just get on with the auction!”
“The property was given to Duchess Lucia by our holy lady, the Queen, one-hundred and fifty years ago,” Frances pressed on. “And has stayed the Duchess’ family for generations until now--”
“I thought you wanted to get this over and done with, Frances?” Adelia cackled. “You’re the one who’s taking so long! Let’s get it going!”
Frances’ mouth twisted, her hands curled into fists, and she slammed the packet of papers down.
“Fine,” the redhead snapped. “We’ll proceed with the auction. We shall start the bidding at one thousand ducats.”
“Ten-thousand ducats!” Adelia raised her paddle and shrieked.
Frances seemed to come alive before our very eyes, her wide-set ruby-colored eyes flashed, a wicked grin spread over her lips, and she jabbed a finger out toward the oldest aristocrat.
“That’s ten-thousand ducats,” the redhead auctioneer shouted. “Ten-thousand ducats going once, going--”
“Twenty-five thousand ducats!” Josephine slapped her paddle into the air.
“That’s twenty-five thousand ducats,” Frances boomed. “Twenty-five thousand ducats going--”
“Thirty-five thousand ducats.” Adelia raised her paddle.
“Fifty-thousand ducats.” Daisy breathed.
All three aristocrats gasped, turned to stare, but there was no time as Frances started shouting out the numbers again.
“Fifty-thousand ducats,” the auctioneer repeated. “Fifty-thousand ducats g--”
“Fifty-five thousand!” Lilliana shouted.
“Sixty-thousand ducats,” Daisy countered before Frances could even take a breath.
“Sixty-five thousand ducats!” Josephine screamed.
“Sixty-five thousand ducats,” the redhead echoed. “Sixty-five thousand ducats--.”
“Seventy-thousand ducats!” Ortensia cried.
“Oh, dangit!” Josephine cried, threw her paddle down, turned on her heels, and stalked away. “If my goddamn mine was still working, I could’ve won!”
“See?” Adelia chuckled over to the other aristocrat. “Told you she couldn’t compete against us.”
“Ninety-five thousand ducats!” a familiar voice cried.
Daisy’s paddle shot up into the air, but her mouth hadn’t moved. Her honey-colored eyes widened, she glanced behind her where the voice had come from, and we both saw the shimmering, camouflaged outline of the one, and the only… Valerie.
“N-Ninety-five t-thousand?” Lilliana gasped.
The woman in glasses let the paddle fall to her side in limp fingers, and then it clattered down to the gravel.
“One hundred thousand ducats!” Adelia shrieked.
“Adelia!” the brunette aristocrat wheezed.
“One hundred and fifty thousand ducats!” Valerie’s voice giggled.
“No, no, no,” I whispered. “That’s too much!”
Adelia’s mouth dropped open, her eyes widened, and her neck turned so slowly I swore I heard the sound of her tendons creaking. The older aristocrat’s face paled instantly, she clasped the paddle in her hand, and then she let her drop down to her side.
“That’s one hundred and fifty thousand ducats,” Frances echoed. “One hundred and fifty thousand ducats going once, going twice… Sold to Ms. Daisy Browning!”
My knees felt weak at the thought of all of the money, we’d gone way over the budget I’d given them three days before, but… we’d repurchased our home. I was sure if I doubled or tripled the price of my services to all three of the aristocrats, they’d pay it, I was the only man in the city willing to make those things for them.
“Valerie…” I muttered.
The feline-woman didn’t answer, only giggled, dropped her sister’s arm, glanced over at the other aristocrats, and then slunk off toward the manor.
Frances nodded once, picked up the papers from her podium, stepped closer, offered them to Daisy, and then held out a fountain pen.
“I need you to sign,” the auctioneer breathed. “Here, here… here, here, here, and down here. Initial here, signature here… and that’s it. I can take payment today, or within thirty days, it is your choice.”
“Thirty days,” Daisy uttered. “I’ll need to retrieve the funds from my family’s bank back home first, it might take a little while.”
“Understandable,” Frances grunted. “When you have it, just bring it by the court’s offices, and we will sign the deed over to your name.”
The redhead snatched the paper back from the bear-girl, tucked the packet underneath her arm, bowed to all of us, and then shuffled toward her carriage. Adelia still stood in complete shock a few feet away, while Lilliana and Josephine prepared to enter their carriages.
“I knew you were wealthy,” the older woman gasped. “But I-I didn’t know you were that wealthy…”
“It’s best not to underestimate the Browning’s,” Daisy sneered. “Now, all of you get off my property before I do something drastic.”
The older woman hung her head, sighed softly, glanced back at the manor once more, shook her head, and trudged back toward her carriage. Ortensia was the only one left as she dragged the podium toward her own wagon. The scarlet-haired woman paused for a moment, glared at me, and then opened her mouth to speak.
“I don’t know what you’re doing up here, Alchemist,” the Chief Constable hissed. “But I will find out… I’ll find out everything, just you wait.”
“Leave,” the bear-girl boomed. “Now!”
Ortensia rolled her eyes, lugged the podium to her chart, glanced back at us once, threw the wooden structure into the back, and then climbed inside with a snap.
Daisy and I stood together at the foot of the stairs as the crowd of aristocrats piled into their wagons, their carriages pulled away, rolled down the hill, and finally were gone from sight. I heaved a heavy sigh, sat down on the bottom step, and dropped my head into my hands.
“We did it!” Valerie came back into view. “We did it! We did it! The manor is ours to keep! No more Duchess banging on our doors, or the Chief Constable threatening us! We can just kick them off the property from now on!”
“Valerie…” I uttered. “That’s… that’s so much money.”
“I know!” the feline-woman giggled. “And we can make it back by working for those three aristocrats. Yeah, they might be sore that they lost, but they’ll perk up soon, and come crawling back for their mustard gas elevator and black powder mine, or whatever.”
“But it’s so much money, Val!” I groaned.
I let my head fall back as my hands fell away from my face onto my knees, and I stared up at the clear blue sky for a moment. Both of my women were silent for a moment, they glanced at each other, shuffled closer, and then sat down on the steps beside me.
“It’ll be alright, Charles,” Daisy breathed. “We’ll make it, we got the manor back, and that was the first step. We’ll take it one day at a time… there’s nothing to worry about.”
The bear-girl rested her hand against my right shoulder, slid it down my back, and then snuggled into my side.
“Yeah, Charles,” Valerie purred. “I know I shouldn’t have pushed it that high, but those other women weren’t backing down. The only one who did was that pretty blonde one, but those other two… they weren’t going to let us have it! That’s why I had to raise it to such a high price…”
“They already agreed to work with you even if they lost,” the brunette whispered. “So, it’s not like they’ll refuse to do it now. As you said, we’ll double or triple the price of each item, and they’ll gladly accept. You saw how desperate they were, there’s no way they’re going to refuse.”
“I guess you’re right,” I sighed. “It’s so much at once, I’ve only ever wanted to be left alone so that I could continue my research and experiments.”
“And we’ll get to that p
oint,” Valerie soothed. “Just be patient, Charles. There’ll be a time in our lives where we’re not constantly running from the Duchess or her cronies, trust us.”
“Yes,” I nodded. “I can’t wait for the day that all comes true. You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted it all of this time.”
“Then we can live in peace,” Daisy smiled. “And fornicate nightly and fill this house to the brim with Charles’ and our monster-girl babies.”
“E-Excuse me?” I gasped, but the two monster-girls just smiled widely at me.
Chapter Eight
The heat in the laboratory was almost unbearable, but with the door and all of the windows opened, it alleviated it a bit. I crouched in front of the massive barrel, reached forward, grabbed an armful of wood, and then tossed it inside. I stood with a grunt, leaned over the enormous pail, made a note of the level of wood inside, nodded once, stuffed some hay in between the pieces of wood, struck a match, and watched it start to burn. I sighed contentedly, smiled softly, and then turned to grab the large lid. I fitted it into place over the barrel, made sure there was a small opening for steam to release, and then lowered myself back to the floor.
The fire I’d built up underneath it was burning nicely, but I’d have to remain here for the rest of the day to tend to it and make sure it didn’t burn out. The process was slow and painstaking, but if I were completely honest, I didn’t mind it. It’d been a long time since I’d created something in my laboratory, well, something like this, the last thing I’d created in the lab was Daisy.
“What are you doing now, Charles?” Valerie called from the left of me.
I glanced toward her, smiled, and stifled a peal of giggles. It amazed me sometimes how eerily similar the monster-girl was to a cat, Valerie laid curled up beside the crackling fire, her hands and feet lifted toward the warmth.
“I’m making charcoal,” I explained.
“What for?” the feline-woman chirped. “What does wood have to do with it?”
“Well, the wood will become charcoal,” I told her. “Next, I’ll light the wood inside of the barrel, and over time, it will burn and turn black.”
“What is the need for two fires?” Daisy asked from over my shoulder.
“Double the heat,” I uttered. “The wood will burn faster and reach a higher temperature it wouldn’t have if I’d only burned one. If I only set fire to the wood inside of the barrel, it’ll turn to ash, but that’s not what we want. We want the outside to burn enough that it’s hard and flaky, but not enough to damage the wood inside.”
“Kind of like the perfect, delicious skin of a roast turkey?” A.B. offered.
“Yes,” I snickered. “Kind of, I guess. How do you know what Turkey tastes like?”
A.B. didn’t answer that.
“But what is all of this for?” Daisy asked.
“For Lilliana,” I breathed. “She wants black powder for her army. They probably use it for flintlock guns, cannons, or something worse, maybe even bombs.”
“What’s a bomb?” Valerie murmured. “Is it some type of food?”
“No…” I whispered. “As much as I’d like to lie and tell you that it’s a delicious type of food… it’s not. Bombs are explosives, but on a much, much larger scale. They could wipe out houses, towns, even small cities in a second, they’re horrible inventions created by the hands of power-hungry women.”
“Would you build one if they asked you to?” Daisy asked. “If one of the aristocrats asked you to build a bomb for the right price, do you think you would do it?”
“Whoa,” I chuckled. “Morality check. No, I don’t think I would. I’ve never seen a bomb, but I’ve heard what they can do. The queen deploys them regularly on her enemies, and usually, there’s a lot of media coverage when they do. The damage and carnage they create… no, I don’t think I could ever build something like that with my own two hands and still have a good conscience.”
“But what if it were an insane amount of money?” Valerie questioned. “Enough for us to build a house in the middle of nowhere, move there, and never be bothered by the aristocrats ever again? Would you do it then?”
“Yes,” I exhaled. “It’s hard to explain why I would allow myself to do something like that… maybe it’s the money and incentives, but I like to believe that it would be for the greater good… Making these weapons surely will mean that some men will lose their lives in the short term, but in the long term, we will overthrow the hegemony of the queendom, and thousands more men will be freed from their oppression.”
“But I have to ask this, Charles,” Daisy uttered. “What is the difference between what you’re doing now, and if they asked you to create bombs?”
“They starve you until you have no other choice than to obey their commands,” I exhaled. “If I went against their wishes, and refused them, I would be outcast. Can you imagine if I’d turned the Duchess down when she first approached me? I would’ve been called more than a dirty alchemist, I would have no way to make money… and ultimately, have no way to survive without her initial patronage.”
“I hate this city,” Valerie grumbled. “I hate the aristocrats and their stupid, malicious rules! I can’t wait until we turn them into monster-girls. No one will escape our hands, no woman will be spared!”
“I agree with Valerie,” Daisy nodded. “I may not remember much from my Delphine memories, but each one that comes back to me is so… sad and depressing that I dread when they rise to the surface of my consciousness. I am so much happier than I was then, I truly believe that once we enter into the machine, something within us changes. The difference between Valerie and me and all of the other women in the city is baffling. You can tell how unhappy they are just by looking in their faces, even the Duchess. She may be beautiful, rich, and powerful, but when you look into her violet eyes, there’s something missing from behind them. I truly believe that when Charles changes us, he does it for our betterment. I’m so happy to be his.”
“Yeah!” the feline-woman cried. “That’s what I meant! You’re so much better with words than I am, Daisy.”
The brunette’s soft, round ears twitched, her cheeks flushed red, and she lowered her face away from us, but I could tell she was pleased.
“T-Thank you,” the bear-girl breathed. “I believe that I speak this well because of Delphine, so, at least, I have that to thank her for… the rest of it, I hate her for.”
“Are you remembering more things?” I reached out and stoked the fire underneath the metal barrel.
“A few things,” Daisy sighed. “Here and there, they’re awful things. Sometimes, I can feel the weight of her whip in my hand, and the sound it makes as it comes down on the back of one of her innocent consorts.”
“O-Oh, wow,” I stammered. “That’s awful, Daisy, I’m sorry.”
“I’ll be fine,” the brunette smiled. “It’s a constant reminder that I am not her, and I will never allow myself to become like her. You and I are equals, Charles, I am, in no way, above you.”
“Agreed,” I grinned. “Val? Have you remembered anything from your past? I know you said the only things you could recall were from the cat, but have any of the human ones come back?”
“Hmmm, I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about this,” the cat-girl hummed through closed lips. “There have been a few, but they’re nothing like Daisy’s. I remembered stealing some bread from a street-side vendor, and the owner came out and called me a ‘harlot.’ What does that word mean, Charles? It didn’t seem like a kind word at all.”
“A harlot?” I echoed. “Are you sure that’s what she called you?”
I stood, crossed the room, came to stand at the cabinets, and began pulling out supplies for the item Adelia had requested. I glanced over my shoulder at Valerie, the feline-woman snuggled close to the fire, rolled over onto her back, and her eyes fluttered closed.
“Yes,” the cat-girl confirmed. “A harlot, what does it mean?”
“It’s an old word,” I told them.
“From before, when men and women were equals. They often used it to describe women who slept with men for money, but… as time went on and women gained more power over the opposite sex, it took on a different meaning. You know how I told you that there have been a few uprisings? Against the matriarchy? Well, a few of the times, there have been male-sympathizers, women who are also against what the matriarchy is doing. There aren’t a lot of them. Just a handful here and there throughout history, but back to what we were talking about. The term harlot was taken and used against these women as a slur, it’s no longer about prostitution, but being a ‘brute-sympathizer.’”
“But didn’t you say that the prisoner threatened to kill you?” Daisy asked. “Called you vermin-trash and all sorts of other things when you threw her into the compartment?”
“True,” I confirmed. “But all frightened creatures revert to their true nature when cornered… I don’t fault her for that, but it makes me wonder, did we have a male-sympathizer in this town? I mean, it has to be true if it’s in your memories. Can you remember anything else like that? Any other names they might have called you?”
“No,” the feline-woman purred from her position on the floor. “All the others are cat memories. There were a couple of nice ladies that would let me into their houses, would give me bowls of warm milk, and would let me sleep beside their fire for the night, especially if it was freezing, but… the last few times, I went to their houses, meowed loud outside their doors, and they shooed me away.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that now,” I chuckled. “None of us will shoo you away or make you sit outside in the snow and cold.”
“That’s what makes me the happiest,” Valerie sighed. “I have a home now with a loving man, my little sister, and a funny little brain for a friend.”
“I’m not little!” A.B. cried. “I am a fully formed, adult-sized brain! A man’s brain at that!”