Chapter #7
The ship cast a strange light on Jack's face. He read the manual day in and day out in this odd lighting, until his sight became googly. It bothered him. Sometimes, he got massive headaches, of which Seralicore would have to perform magic to make it go away. He became so frustrated at times, that he lost his place, and his eyes wandered restlessly over the pages, trying to recover his lost space. His irritation ceased when he found it, only to return the next time it happened.
Eventually, the day came when Jack finally finished the book, and all its glory happened to wash over him. He knew all the rules, he knew all the page numbers by heart where important information was held. He could quote everything in the manual by sheer memory alone. That took some work. In fact, Jack read every page at least 5 times before he finally could.
Seralicore came in one day to examine his handiwork. She noticed his unease at being in the same room with her, but she quickly fixed it by adding how well he'd learned the pages. "Now, we go for the kill. Come Jack. I have a task for you." He followed her to a room where she had an ancient looking scroll lying on a table. The eerie glow outside the ship began to shimmer, and Jack shook his head to get rid of the nausea. Seralicore wandered over to the table, and opened the scroll, revealing several names on a list. This reminded Jack of the time Santa was reading the list in his tale. He thought about it for a moment, while Seralicore went to look for a certain spell book. He wondered why she needed one.
By the time she returned, the book was in her hand, and she was reading several lines to herself. Jack recognized the readings as Pig-Latin, for whatever reason it was written that way, he had no idea. Listening, he realized she was saying the spell in Pig-Latin in order for him not to hear it. Suspicion began to arise in his stomach, as he realized he'd fallen for her trap.
"You won't get away with this!" He roared, but Seralicore already finished the last word, and Jack's voice became mute. He struggled unsuccessfully to speak his mind, and to tell her off, but Seralicore simply laughed.
"You've fallen into my grasp Sir Skellington. You shall not escape now. From now and forever, you are forced to do my bidding, whether you will it or not. I control your destiny, your future, and I am also capable of changing your past. Do not push me to that limit Jack. I don't want to have to erase your precious memories. But if you struggle, or try to escape, which you won't, I will be forced to destroy all knowledge you have of your past life. Do you understand?" Seralicore gave him a devious grin. "Of course you do."
"You... How could you do this? Why? Why me?" He gasped out. His voice returned with a rush of air, and his breathing went back to normal, even though he didn't need to breathe. Seralicore rushed over to him, and placed a hand on his chest.
"Because my friend. You are the only one capable of determining our future. Not me, not Angel, not Clarion. Just, you." He stared her down. He didn't like the sound of this.
"If I ever did escape, then what would happen to this world?" Jack asked sullenly. He put his head in his hands, and closed his eyes. His words were moans compared to actual words. His mouth ran dry, and his mind reeled with thoughts of Sally, alone and scared at home. Ever since he realized she wasn't frozen in time, he knew she would be looking for him. Her, and the townspeople. Where was their king?
"You won't escape. So the matter will not be discussed. You are not to bring that subject up again. From now on, you will refer to me as the Queen of Fallen Angels. I rule this world, and any other. You will be the one to carry out the punishment for anyone who disobeys me." She walked to the end of the table, and rolled the scroll up, and set it back on the shelf carefully.
"Why are we here? What do you plan to make me do?" Seralicore laughed. She grabbed his wrist, and pulled him down a spiral staircase. On the way, Jack his head on a banner that was hanging from the wall. Several of them hung down on the way to the down. One of which had a picture of the Wolf. The portrait. A whole other image on a separate strip of cloth. The Wolf's sudden happiness overflowed when he saw Jack come down the stairs, then evaporated when he realized exactly why hew as there.
Jack walked up to him, and put a hand on the portrait, where the Wolf's heart would have been if he were alive. "It's nice to see you again." The Wolf again, bowed.
"And I you. How has she treated you these past few weeks?" Jack looked at him. The Wolf had an emptiness to his eyes. A lonely, cold look. Jack stared for a moment, not answering his question. The Wolf nodded, and looked away. "I understand why she brought you here Jack, but I'm afraid, I can speak of this to you no more. If she finds out again... I won't be as lucky as I am right now." Jack stopped him from continuing.
"I understand. For now, we just need to speak to you." The portrait smiled. Jack waved him down, and the Wolf bowed his head lower so Jack could whisper something in his ear. "The ship... What's it do?" The Wolf glared down the corridor where the queen walked.
"It's the place where she keeps their souls. Remember the guy I told you about? The one from the riddle?" Jack nodded. "Well... He found this place thousands of years ago. When I told you the riddle, I was talking about the sky, and the angels. I didn't want to tell you, but that's how it went. She flies in the sky. In other words, she's dead Jack. Angel is no more. If I'd told you before now, you would have looked for her, and she would have disappeared. That is all I can tell you. Otherwise... I'd mess up the order in which things are to happen.
The way he spoke that sentence gave Jack goose bumps up and down his spine. He knew something was up, and he couldn't explain it. That was his problem. Everything he did was probably under the control of her right now. Even if it was against his will. Even as he thought this, it was probably written in their archives. This bothered him still.
"Am I meant to have something happen to me? Something about never returning to Halloweentown again?" Again, the portrait lowered his head, and closed his eyes. He said nothing, and Jack knew the reason why.
