The spider witch waited until the crowd dispersed, dawdling around the bone pits in search of stones. She might as well get started as she waited for the area the clear. Thothaga wanted to speak with the Collector- Algol, alone. Especially since he wasn't popular with the Bonebound. If they saw her conversing with him, they may not let her back in.
It must have been her lucky day, because among the bones, she sensed the presence of a strong stone. In life the gembound must have been at its full potential. Thothaga snatched it up and scurried back towards the West Wall.
When all was quiet, she approached.
The Collector watched as the spider made her way around Canis, furred feet tapping here and there. She'd grown, he observed idly. Larger, perhaps stronger; more powerful, too? Does she know there's others like her? I think not, but she will find out soon enough, the tragic fool. Along with the rest of them, doing his bidding, blind. It'd have been funny, if it weren't not.
He waited, fully expecting her to call for him, though he lurked unseen. And when she did, he wearily put on the grin--she couldn't see it, no, but he was sure they could hear it--and let false enthusiasm sweep through his demeanor and his voice.
The Collector stepped from behind a stone, arms sweeping out as if to greet an old friend. "Ahhh, Thothaga. The Spider, the Spinner, the Weaver; you look well. I hear you've met old Merchant at last. I trust you've kept my warning in mind..? Aiding him only to test him, yes?"
@Thothaga
A dark, horned silhouette slipped into her vision almost ethereally, as if straight out the Merchant's illusion. She regarded him for a moment, taking note of the eerie similarity the fake Algol had with the real one. Honestly, it was bit off putting.
Thothaga puffed up at his welcoming words. She had no idea if they were genuine, but she desperately wanted them to be.
The Maiden's eyes sparkled as she dipped into a more playful tone.
He and the Merchant had goals that overlapped just a little--but more often than not, their methods clashed. The Collector was subtle. He was sophisticated. -At least, in his own mind. He would set up grand, relatively harmless schemes, working over centuries--and then that damned antlered bastard would turn up and hamfistedly throw all of his... participants into a Pit of Death, or something, and ruin everything.
"Mm," he said, consideringly--if "mm" can be considered enough of a word to "say"--and drummed the claws of one hand against his closed cloak. "I would not concern myself with his words too deeply, if I were you. He is ancient, and dangerous, and so far beyond any of us that his opinions of us are never likely to be flattering, or even interesting... Ask him, some day--Spinner of Dreams--ask him what he thinks of you. Of you, and of all your kind." The answer to that was likely to prove rather unflattering, the Collector thought.
Honestly, he was a little down. With the Merchant's presence, there was little that he, himself, could do and feel confident that he'd have any effect on anything whatsoever. Controlled chaos was one thing; utterly ordered destruction in neatly-filed lines of madness was something else altogether.
If nothing else, one had to admire the way the Merchant made total chaos into something resembling a well-oiled machine; his abilities at practical paradox were impressive.
"Now... To what do I owe the honor?"
@Thothaga
That was not quite the reaction she was expecting, but...
Gradually, the cloudiness parted from her jet-black eyes. He had her full attention again.
"Of course," was what he actually crooned, holding both palms out. Disgusting. "Why, there is nothing I adore more than aiding those in need... the lost; the abandoned--... Oh, but I myself hardly need help, dear spider. What is it that you need?"
He really didn't want to hear it, but here they were.
@Thothaga
She wanted to see Algol as an ally, or at the very least, a trusted informant. He was the only ancient that she knew who had been trapped in a prison for the last couple of eons, and no one bothered to free him, not even Astraea, or the Masked Merchant with all his godlike powers. Perhaps his loyalties lied somewhere else.
Thothaga was afraid of what she would uncover, but she had to know. She had to tug at his seams.
"Knowledge, Lady Spinner, is but another form of currency. You always, however, will have my discretion--so long as I have yours. Whatever I tell you, you must swear upon your eight-legged-little-life never to divulge the source of--you must never tell anyone that it was I who told you; not even in hint, rhyme or song. As for the cost of knowledge itself, well-... that depends very much upon your questions, don't you think? And whether or not I might have the answers."
A flick of the wrist, and his clawed hand delved into his robe. A moment later it came out with a small sheet of parchment paper, worn with age and lined with ancient script. With a slight whip of his hand, he presented this to Thothaga. "As for the first part: regardless of our conversations henceforth, discretion for discretion. Just sign here." One index finger's claw tapped at a large, bare portion of the paper, near the bottom--intended, it seemed, for Thothaga to touch.
@Thothaga
Thothaga chittered in amusement.
A flick of movement caught her attention and the spider stiffened. Algol held out something light.
For awhile, the spider witch stood there, scanning the parchment, studying the characters as if she were absorbing every last detail they spoke of.
The spider lifted up her paw as if to sign it, then paused, pointing to it instead.
What's up, I'm Thothaga, I'm 14, and I never learned how to fucking read.
"Why, it is a contract, dear Lady Spellweaver," he explained. "It states that anything we tell one another is to be kept in the strictest confidence; and that if one of us breaks this pact, the payment will be revoked. That is to say--the knowledge removed from our minds."
He sounded as though he were grinning.
@Thothaga