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The coach was well-appointed, but being driven at breakneck speed, so the journey was hair-raising rather than triumphant. Jackov held Cecilia tightly in his arms to keep her from bouncing off the walls and ceiling.
The good news was the Baron had time to think. He was trapped in Celcilia's body unless he was willing to resort to extreme measures. One of those was summoning the Djinn Swansorgger. The Djinn could not stay on the Prime Material for long, and he would be capricious while he stayed, but he had the physical and eldritch power to deal with many imps and many prime material enemies simultaneously. He could create an enormous distraction, but the Baron would be hard pressed to get him to concentrate on one specific, or subtle, action.
The other good news was that when he whispered to Cecila while they were waiting for a ride from the roof, he had caused her to link to Gregory. Gregory now knew his plotters, and with their leaving in the middle of an attack, he should be able to convince his jailors of his innocence. The core of the plot has been unmasked; there may be Kalnichov help following them, but it would be far behind.
The one group he had not been able to reach was his own people. They were sitting fat, dumb and happy watching his body while events swirled around them. Actually, guard his body is exactly where he wanted them until he returned for it, but he wished he could tell them what was happening.
Porter was clearly happy to hear he -- his soul -- was returning to Nom-dey-Nazadlan. Was having his soul enough? Actually, he would have his soul plus his simulacra. Maybe he would try to force the Baron into the simulacra. Now that would be strange and unnatural! But maybe it would be enough for whatever dark ritual was coming up?
"Focus" the Baron thought, "Your primary task is to distract Porter. Do that, and nothing else matters. And you have a tool to do that at hand: Miss Cecilia."
There was a stop at the beginning of Black Pass to change horses. The party was tantalizingly close to the Baron's party and body -- they had fled down this trail only hours ago. Cecila and Jackov "rested" as well, but Cecilia remained in collar and under Jackov's watchful eye the whole time. Dawn came to the land while they rested. Horses changed and party rested, the coach sped off and lurched and pounded its way up Black Pass.
As the coach worked its way up the pass, the weather worsened. The dawn had been foggy and cloudy, now the fog cleared, but the clouds became thicker and lower. Coincidence, or was Mother Nature setting a stage?
The coach rumbled up to the small upper chapel at Nom-dey-Nazadlan, and Jackov and Cecilia were met with a greeting party of impressive credentials: Johanne Porter lead the party -- now dressed in an ancient-style uniform.
"This is not good." thought the Baron to himself, "Porter is expecting a climax to this affair very soon."
He was flanked by Bob Packar and Sarah Booles, also formally dressed. "You men who just came up here!" shouted Bob Packar, "Take care of your horses; get some food, then stand guard."
"Bob and Sarah are back to doing what they do best for Porter." thought the Baron.
Beside Bob Packar was Baron Julio von Rostov, dressed in an unadorned black jumpsuit -- the Baron was looking at himself, his simulacra, actually. The simulacra looked to be in good condition; Porter did not appear to have abused it physically.
When they got out of the carriage, Johanne Porter walked stiffly to them, and embraced Jackov, "Brother! It is good to see you in person again, at last." Jackov returned the embrace, but not quite as enthusiastically.
Porter turned to Cecilia, still with her arms tied behind her, and put a hand to her chin. The Baron felt that his hand was hot and sweaty and saw that it was covered with inflamed scratches. Porter's breath smelled of rot. Porter's body lived, but it was failing -- Porter's lich mind could not keep up with all the details it took to keep a living body healthy. Cecila felt some alarm; the Baron felt some relief. This Porter lich was clearly a very powerful lich, but he was also unstable.
"My sister! My inspiration!" He hugged her, but did not try to kiss her. The Baron could feel her tenseness as the emotions of love, admiration and revulsion all coursed through her as Porter touched her.
"My Brother... vessel of our greatest hopes." she finally responded.
"Great answer!" thought the Baron to her. She was not amused.
Porter drew back and looked deep into her eyes. "Is 'our friend' still in there?"
"Oh yes." she replied.
Porter pulled his lips back in a deathly grin, "We will have him out soon, my sister."
"Good!" said Cecila.
"Good!" said the Baron, and he took over her body to laugh. He spit at Jackov, "THAT is from Gregory!" he shouted. He spit at Porter, "THAT is from me!" he screamed. He had Cecilia's body kick at Porter's shin, but before the blow could land, Porter slapped her so hard she fell backwards to the ground.
The Baron retreated from control, and Cecilia's pain produced an involuntary wail from her that pierced the hearts of all around her. Jackov lunged at Porter and grabbed him by the lapels; the sky darkened. The Baron could see that on the Ethereal Plane Porter's messengers paused in their routines. Then the moment passed; Porter reasserted control over himself, and his surroundings; Jackov relaxed; patted his brother's lapels back into proper shape, and retreated. Porter helped Cecilia to her feet.
"A clever move, Baron." he said to Cecila as he helped her up. "It will be your last clever move, I assure you."
"I doubt it." Cecila huffed, "Unless you get him out of me, soon. He has been such a pain!"
"Has he hurt you?" asked Porter darkly.
Cecila flexed her jaw in answer, and shook her whole body in frustration, "Just get him out of me! I want to use my hands, Rudy!"
"Inside then!" Porter ordered. Packar motioned for the guards to stay out; the rest of the party went into the chapel.
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