Previously on Alike Indignity, Olive Sapinska, Zelda Meiger, and Talcott in Junior’s body have all been kidnapped by members and associates of the Sheldon gang. The gals overpower the brute guarding them with some quick thinking, then turn their attention to Talcott-turned-Junior to set things right.

Meet the scions of the Meiger and Husserl families in Tim Pratt’s new serial, Alike Indignity, which mixes family rivalry with dangerous magics. The Husserl family’s plight continues in Fantasy Flight Games’ newest scenario pack Traces to Nowhere for Arkham Horror: The Card Game, now available wherever fine games are sold.

Read or listen to the sixth and final chapter, “A Satisfying Soul Swap,” below, and subscribe to the Aconyte Fiction Podcast to make sure you catch the rest of the series. 

Alike Indignity

Chapter 6: A Satisfying Soul Swap

by Tim Pratt

Olive, a nursemaid for the prestigious Meiger family, walked up to see that body-swapping horror of a man Talcott sprawled face-down in the mud, wriggling like a worm, arms bound to his sides. “Give it up, Talcott. Is this really better than being in your own body?”

He managed to roll over, glaring up at her, his smart suit smeared with filth. “Yes, it is. You have no idea what suffering is, woman. Fine. Send me back. There are other bodies. Maybe I’ll take yours.”

“I’d almost enjoy that. I’d like to see you survive ten minutes in my shoes. Anyway, I mixed up a tincture that protects me from psychic invasion.” That was a lie, but she was gambling that Talcott saw her as more of a magus than she pretended to be, and from his scowl she knew he believed her. “But take another body. I don’t care. Elias Husserl, Jr. hired me to help him. No one else is my business.”

She knelt, unstoppering the vial, and looked at Talcott expectantly. He opened his mouth with ill grace, and she poured the potion in, watching him sputter and cough as he swallowed. There was no need for an incantation. His soul would seek out its proper vessel now, and swiftly, ending this body-swapping adventure once and for all. Olive corked the vessel and said idly, “I should probably mention I told Junior to destroy your ritual materials, so I think you’ll find yourself stuck. But I’ll bring up your porridge later.”

His eyes widened. “You – you b–” Then those eyes rolled back, and he shuddered, looking for a moment as empty and lifeless as a doll, and then blinked. “Ah… Olive? Is that, is it, you? Why am I all muddy and tied up?”

“Welcome back to your body, Junior.” Olive was so tired. She should have been in her room, soaking her feet, instead of dealing with villainous witchery. “I’ll cut the ropes, and then we’ll go check on Zelda. Then, you’ll get my money.” Olive took a folding knife from her satchel and sawed through his ropes.

He struggled upright. “Zelda? What do you mean?”

“It’s a long story, but one of the Sheldon gang roughed your girlfriend up. She’s just up the track in a shack. I think she’ll be all right, but–”

Junior clutched at his chest and staggered to his feet. “My Zelda! My love! I must go to her!”

“Junior, don’t play games with me – wait!”

“Fear not, your efforts will be rewarded!” He sprinted in the direction of the shack. She considered chasing after him, but she simply didn’t have the energy, so she settled for a fast walk through the dark.

When she reached the shack, there was no sign of Junior, only the unconscious thug and Zelda sitting against the wall, clutching her head. Olive cursed. Junior still had a ticket to Boston in his pocket. If he hurried, he’d make the late night train. He’d never cared one whit for Zelda, never intended to pay Olive as promised. And now she’d have to return to the Meiger Estate and face Talcott, who she’d forced back into his original dying body. She dearly hoped Junior had done as she asked and gotten rid of his ritual materials.

Never trust the rich. She knelt by Zelda and patted her on the shoulder. “We’ve got something in common. Junior has been an absolute bastard to both of us.”

Talcott sucked in a painful breath as he fell back into his own body. The transition had been faster, with no leisurely soaring over Arkham. This time was a sudden rush of sensation and images, and then pain. He knew that awful nurse would return soon, or Junior, back in his hale and healthy body, would get revenge. He had to do something. If Junior had really destroyed his–

But no! Talcott struggled out of bed, coughing blood, and saw the hole under the floorboards askew, his grimoire open to the spell, herbs crushed everywhere with their jars open and spilled, and the recovered leather cup he’d used to drink the potion from when he first started off on his adventure. Within it, the cup brimmed with liquid. Had Junior recreated his body-swapping potion while Olive hunted Talcott down? Ha, Junior was such an ineffectual twit that he hadn’t closed off Talcott’s exit!

He eased himself to the floor, joints screeching their outrage, and tried to calm his mind. His lungs heaved and more blood coated his lips. Time was shorter than he’d thought. No wonder Junior had done everything in his power to find a new body, unwittingly providing Talcott’s salvation. He would enact his original plan to steal the body of the Meiger heir apparent. He’d unnecessarily complicatedmatters, due to greed, but he’d learned his lesson.

His trembling hands lifted the cup and glugged the potion down in a few hard swallows. The taste was foul, fouler than the first time, but perhaps he’d just grown accustomed to having a different set of taste buds. Talcott fixed the image of his grand-nephew in his mind and picked up the grimoire with the incantation.

Pain lanced through his abdomen. New pain, different pain, sudden cramps that doubled him over and made him scream in agony. He tried to get up, and invisible spears jabbed his guts. He fell over, head turned, staring into the space under the bed.

There was a bag of rat poison there, tipped over, spilling out grains.

Junior hadn’t recreated the potion. He’d poisoned it, instead.

No, no, it can’t end like this, Talcott thought.

However, not for the first time, he was mistaken.

Finding the old man dead pleased Olive, even more so when she tidied up the room and found the poison. But Talcott had been so old and sick that no one suspected foul play. Junior had, at least, taken revenge on Talcott Meiger on his way out.

Talcott’s funeral was a sparsely attended affair: just Olive, Zelda, and Mrs Meiger, as Josef was still “away on business.” Once the ritual was done, Zelda kissed both their cheeks and ran off for a dressmaker’s appointment. The other two women walked slowly together through the cemetery in the drizzle.

Mrs Meiger, elegant in her black dress, touched Olive’s elbow. They’d seldom spoken, and the gentle gesture surprised her. “We discovered a document in the drawer of Talcott’s bedside table,” Mrs Meiger said. “A last will and testament, leaving all Talcott’s worldly possessions to his sweet, devoted nurse, Olive.”

Olive stopped short and stared at her. “Come again?”

Mrs Meiger nodded. “It isn’t, strictly speaking, a legal document, as it was not witnessed or notarized, but we have no reason to doubt its provenance. The Meiger family intend to honor his last wishes.”

Olive considered Junior’s final words to her, that she would be rewarded, and slightly revised her opinion of the man. He had made an effort to make sure her efforts were worthwhile. And now she didn’t feel the need to go and knock on his door to give him a piece of her mind – the young man clearly never made his way to Boston, if his newest photograph at another family event in today’s Arkham Advertiser article was anything to go by.

“Don’t get too excited,” Mrs Meiger added. “Talcott’s worldly goods amount to his old steamer trunk of clothes and curios, and the sum of five dollars and eighty-seven cents in cash. I have taken the liberty of rounding that up to six dollars and can hand it over now, if you like.”

She opened her handbag, and Olive solemnly accepted the folded bills. “Thank you, ma’am. I think I’ll take a little walk and ponder my sudden wealth, if that’s all right?”

“Of course, dear. Take the day. We can discuss your new duties at the house tomorrow.” She sighed, sounding defeated. “Any new position might not be available for long, though. It’s been decided that the Meiger Estate must be sold to new ownership.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, ma’am.”

Olive managed to stay calm until Mrs Meiger had departed, and then she walked over to a mossy angel-shaped monument, leaned against one of its canted wings, and burst out laughing, great whooping gusts that made her sides ache. She slid down to sit on the pedestal, too amused to worry about blasphemy.

She wiped tears from her eyes. Why had she ever gotten mixed up with these people? Her own family was hardly perfect, but at least they pulled together when times were hard. The Husserls and the Meigers were walking disasters, no more cooperative than cats. Well, mainly. Mrs Meiger wasn’t so bad. Zelda was still young. There might be hope for her yet.

Was there hope for Olive? She thought so.

She had six dollars in her pocket, free and clear, and oh, had she ever earned it. Maybe she’d approach Zelda this evening, ask if they could be friends, and borrow one of the young woman’s dresses. The two of them could go out on the town and spend Olive’s newfound riches on a night to remember.

Because unlike Talcott Meiger, Olive was alive, and unlike Elias Husserl, Jr., Olive was free to go where she pleased. She could do anything she wanted.

And what she wanted today was to dance.