Douglásc already had the gravegoods, and he intended for Sif to serve as the familiar.
He bid him come to the castle with him in the form of a cat; Sid begrudgingly allowed himself to be carried.
" Oh, what a fine cat," one of the servants remarked, passing by. Another leaned over to squint didn't at him.
" Isn't this the one that got into the kitchen?" he remarked. " You must keep better watch of your pets, Mr. Priest..."
" He's just a little mischievous," Douglásc replied, smiling broadly. Sif regretted agreeing to help him for a moment.
He'd just meant to fulfill an obligation, he didn't realize it would entail his being paraded around like a war trophy! Every other person they met in the hall was remarking upon him.
By the time they got back up to the tower room where Douglásc was, apparently, still staying, he was completely over it and wanted to get whatever the man needed from him out of the way.
He leapt out of his arms, landing solidly on the floor, and cast a look of annoyance back at him. Douglásc barred the door as he closed it.
He then yanked the rug back, revealing a large sigil drawn in something red on the floor.
" I've got to get the artifacts I need out of the hoard," he said, crossing the room to the closet. " Give me a minute. You can dress in that bastard's clothes again, if you'd like."
Curiously, he did not let Sif into the closet with him this time.
Sif shifted back into human form, and took a tunic and leggings out of the chest at the foot of the bed. While he dressed, he contemplated Douglásc's scheme.
He knew he was needed for it, but he was suspicious of what enacting it would actually entail. Douglásc had an air about him that made him difficult to trust; and he had just casually told Sif that it was his lord who spread the faybane.
Had the soul he had eaten to gain his human form been someone who resisted it? He felt uneasy about that.
There was a loud crash from the closet and several smaller noises, causing him to jump up, hackles raised.
A moment later, Douglásc came out, arms laden with glittering metal, jewels, and bones.
He kicked the door close with his foot.
" Help me get this set up," he said. " We need to make a compass towards Iudrige's body."
He threw the items he was holding on the floor and kneeled down, arranging them in some incomprehensible pattern.
" What do you want me to do?" he asked, feeling a little stupid.
" Mm. Put the bones around the edge of the circle. They came from Assurian graves that that bastard desecrated, but I've sanctified them..." Douglásc went off into muttering, nudging a small golden boat around with his foot so it rested on three concentric circles.
Sif was hesitant to touch the bones, even knowing them to be very old, but did as he was asked. A peculiar cold shiver went through him upon picking up the first of them, which he did his best to ignore.
Certainly, even if the Witchraiser had been the one to dig them up, wasn't it still strange to use human remains for magic like this…?
When they were done placing things around the sigil, Douglásc took a ring with a small jewel off of his index finger, and placed it in the very middle.
" Lend me your hand, Sif," he said, voice a bit dark.
Sif stretched out his arm to him, unwilling to step closer. He knew that surely this was not meant to trap him, since he was made to stand outside the circle, but still...
He recoiled as Douglásc struck his palm with a knife, blood spattering onto the floor below.
" What was that for?" he demanded. He couldn't even tell when the other man had drawn the damn thing; he could heal himself, yes, but it still hurt to be cut! He could've at least had the dignity to ask first!
" Blood of a familiar," Douglásc answered vaguely, blatantly waving off his concern. He squatted down to look at the artifacts he'd laid out closely.
" You could've asked-"
Sif followed his gaze.
The drops of blood had beaded on the floor, and now rolled over themselves in a gentle wave to the little boat. An arrow that had been laying still on the other side of the sigil was now moving, rotating around the ring in the center; the boat was carried by the blood, and drifted about as if at sea. Both of them came to the bottom right of the sigil, and the arrow rolled back and forth in a restricted portion of it, the boat wobbling alongside it in an up-and-down motion.
Douglásc placed his hands on the ground, leaning closer.
" What the fuck?" he said. He sound genuinely distressed. " It's not at her threshold...? Why is it moving...?"
Sif watched him closely. He didn't understand the magic that had been done, but clearly it was correct, and simply not giving the answer the shaman wanted.
Douglásc leaned back on his heels, and brought his hands up to cover his face.
" It's been so long, I thought perhaps it may have been moved due to the nature of water... But for someone to take it and transport it... This is very bad, Sif," he said. " You idiot foreigners, desecrating us left and right... Our lord had us put at the thresholds for a reason..."
He collected himself, and then took the ring up, giving it to Sif after a moment.
" You wear it," he said. " She said she needs to talk to you."
Sif had never been one for jewelry; back in the village, he simply added all the trinkets his people gave him to his belt and did not seek anything out for himself. He had never worn a ring. He slid it onto his index finger, hand splayed out, and stared into it expectantly.
A gleam of light across its surface moved, and suddenly it was as though someone stood behind him. A woman's voice whispered in his ear, close and intimate.
" Fair Relnsif, thank goodness you've taken me," she said. " We must restore my body... Poor Douglásc has gone mad. He wants to use this court to restore our Lord to glory..."
Sif blinked tepidly. Was he supposed to reply? Douglásc was staring at him.
" What's she telling you?" he asked.
" You need not reply to me with words," the woman whispered. " Thoughts will do... Tell him I've asked if you ever visited Nash..."
Sif didn't especially care for being caught in a game of tug of war between these people.
" She asked if I've ever visited Nash," Sif said. " I don't believe I have."
Douglásc rolled his eyes.
" Nash has long since been a ruin," he said. " Our Lord sank it into mire. No trace remains."
Sif thought on this for a moment.
" Well, it's true that in my grief, I spent much time in the faybane... And I did encounter many ruins." He said. " Could I still carry a trace of it?"
In what way has Douglásc gone mad? Sif vainly tried to project at her. He does want to help recover your body.
" Douglásc, more than anyone, grieves for our Lord," Iudrige lamented. " He cannot distinguish his madness from justice. He'll use your blood, the way he has now, and already has plans for reviving the darkness in the land."
Douglásc tipped his head, looking Sif over.
" Maybe," he said. " I can't quite say that is what it is, though."
" I'll return Iudrige to you, then," Sif said, turning this information over in his head.
Either this Iudrige was lying for some unknown reason, or Douglásc was someone just as dangerous as the man he'd overthrown. In either case, it looked like he'd have to play along with finding her body.
He removed the ring from his finger, as she protested to speak to him longer. He was uninterested; either she was lying or telling the truth, and only outside factors could determine which.
He handed her off.
Douglásc put the ring containing Iudrige back on.
" I have a banquet to attend," he said. " Come with me as a cat."
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