Author: Wildbow

Left in the Dust – 16.2 | Pale

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Avery thumbed through her phone to go through the dating profile of a guy who looked fifty, had himself down as forty, and was pursuing and actively dating twenty year olds.

“Don’t waste my time if you can’t hold up your end of the conversation,” Avery read aloud.  “That stands out to me.  Boat, boat, boat, I think this guy likes boats.  Lots of photos with him doing a bad job of cropping out the woman and kid he was with for this long boat trip.  He makes reference to a son.  Wouldn’t you rather be with someone who’s like, I love my son?”

Snowdrop sent Avery vague thoughts from the tree she was climbing.  A bird was making angry noises.

Avery interpreted the impulses as deep thoughts on opossum relationships.

“I’d rather be with someone who adores their kid and doesn’t crop him out of photos.  I think this guy has a compulsive habit of latching onto any lady he’s with for photos, but that leaves him without any photos of just him.  Maybe if you hung out with your kid and just your kid?  You’re on a boat, do some fishing, teach him a skill, dude.”

Snowdrop sent more opossum impulses.  Avery got a vague sense of ticks, digging through trash…

“Yeah.  Make a meal, even if it’s bugs, I guess.  Do whatever.  Okay, I really don’t want to be mean or judgey, but this guy has a mole on his neck with hair sticking out of it that he never fixes, and once you see it I’m pretty darn sure that you can tell how old he is by seeing how long or short it is.  Makes it really obvious he’s lying about his age in certain pictures.”

Snowdrop sent Avery a jumbled mix of ideas on identity, with flickers of Snowdrop thinking about herself and the Forest Ribbon Trail, then the familiar ritual.

“Yeah, well, that’s you.  Age can be screwy but most people don’t have the magic thing going on.”

Snowdrop directed some attention toward the building.

Avery was sitting in a parking lot, disguised, eating fast food.  She’d covertly given Snowdrop some, but most of her attention was on a business across the street.  Kinard Private Investigations.  Which was on the street sign, but from looking them up, they put far more attention onto the second half of their business, which was part of their business cards and website, even if it wasn’t on their public-facing branding and signage.  Situation Management.

Tomas Whitt worked with some family and friends, with the friend heading the business, apparently, possibly giving a non-practitioner core to it that would mean it wouldn’t face general karmic resistance- the sort of thing that kept Aware down and out and kept practitioners from becoming president.

One of Tomas’ friends, a man who Snowdrop had seen with Tomas a few times, was Willis Rodgers Loeb, name always given out in full.  A justice of the peace- which she gathered was essentially a judge, and who earned a hundred and sixty thousand a year, from a quick search online.  She wasn’t sure if that was a lot, it seemed like a lot, but was it I have five boats of varying size a lot?

More importantly, they’d seemed chummy, and that had prompted Avery to look up the guy on her phone.  Snowdrop had listened in to catch his name, giving her a starting point.  There were only so many Willises around.

Snowdrop added on some vague wondering and thoughts about the contents of the building.  Avery grasped it as they could help him out with that.

“Yeah.  I guess we can’t rule out this guy using magic to muck with his age, especially given who he’s associating with, but I don’t think so.  He’d be doing a better job of it, I think.  Oh, Willis has other social media profiles.  One for KinKey, I don’t think I’m going to click that.  One for work, nothing much here…”

Snowdrop’s back claw slipped from the trunk, prompting a jolt of alarm.

“You going to be okay up there?  I know opossums can climb trees but it’s not their favorite place to be, and I know you’ve been prepping for winter some.”  Avery gave her stomach a pat.

Snowdrop communicated amusement.

“So long as you’re fine.  Here we go.  He uses his dating profile to present a cultivated image, but he has a Go Foto Yourself account too.  Which you’d normally use to present that image, or support it, but he does a whole lot of griping with image posts that are only text.  Still no photos of his kid.”

But there’s photos of him at a shore party with a lot of guys that resemble him. Avery noted.  Not relatives.  Just… that class of people.  Or lack of class.

“There he is,” Avery said, holding up the phone in the direction of the tree branch Snow had reached.  Snowdrop’s opossum eyes weren’t good for seeing the screen, but still.  “With certain people I won’t name out loud because we don’t want to get their attention.”

She pushed some thoughts and impressions Snowdrop’s way.

This judge has enough money for a boat obsession, and he has friends with money.  Two of these guys he’s hanging out with at this shore party are Mussers, and one is Anthem Tedd.  Frig.

She used the tags on the photo to find her way to the profiles of the other people in attendance.  Most had private profiles, but one of the Mussers didn’t.

Pretty awful conspiracy to take control of Ontario if you’re hanging out like this, getting caught on camera.

Tomas Whitt was in that crowd at the beach too.  Not in Willis’ feed, but in the associated ones.

“From what I looked up when I was trying to figure out what his job was, I think justices of the peace handle like, bail hearings, warrants, and that sort of thing.  And since we know that certain people-”

Avery sent a communication through the familiar bond, giving Snowdrop an impression of the Hennigars and Musser.

“-deal in black market stuff, that’s pretty sketch, isn’t it?  This guy doesn’t have a dating profile good enough to have these girls glued to him like they are.  Which leads me-”

Snowdrop sent out an inquisitive thought, towards the building.  Tomas.

“What, like…?”

Another Snowdrop thought.  Love, interest.  Alchemy.

“Fuck, I really hope not.  I think it’s way more likely it’s just money, Snow.  I was going to say, he’s got pretty serious money and I don’t know if that’s from his parents and a good job or if he’s doing something sketchy, but he’s sure hanging out with a lot of sketchy people.”

Snowdrop sent a signal.  Come.

Avery looked up, then checked the coast was clear.  Leaving her food with her bag, she hopped up to grab a branch, then climbed a few branches up the tree.

Snow urged her to be careful, and Avery slowed down.  She used the Lost sight to see past and around branches.

There was a bird nest, tucked in close to the trunk.  The mother was absent, but the nest wasn’t empty.  Inside it was a tiny person Avery could have held in cupped hands, armless and legless, with most of its stability provided by a body that was like a beanbag chair, lumpy with a low center of gravity.  Its head was human, or human-ish, without much of a nose, and with a toothless mouth.  It had a mustache with twirls at the end, but the mustache was uneven with wispy bits, making it look like it had been made to grow that sort of mustache naturally, instead of cultivating it.  With large eyes and a relatively small head, the eyes were almost on opposite sides of his chinless, inverted-pear head.

Snowdrop, disguised as a large rat with unfortunately opossum-like patterning, was nearby, hiding, using Lost sight to see.  He hadn’t seen Snow or Avery yet, which was good.  She hoped he wouldn’t have heard, either.

She snapped a picture, surreptitious, and dropped a little bit to stay out of sight as his head snapped around.

After about thirty seconds, he made a lot of bird noises.

“Dammit, feed me!” he screamed at the sky, in a small voice.  “Mom!  Mooom!”

Snowdrop met Avery’s eyes, then pushed out an impression.  Avery had seen something similar when Snow had been talking about where she went looking for bugs.

There were things like this little potato mustache man scattered all over.  Most were close to here.

Snowdrop communicated an image, concentrating to clarify it.

Tomas Whitt, in the window, mixing bird feed with something alchemical.

Avery grabbed a branch, slowly raised herself up, then poked her phone up over the edge of the nest to take a close-up shot of him, without letting him see her face.

“Auuuugh!” the little potato mustache man screamed.  “What was that!?  Augggh!  I don’t want to die!  Mom!  Mother!  Help!”

Avery worked her way down to the ground, checked the picture, then sent it to the group chat she had with Lucy and Verona.

Lucy’s reply came back: she’d captioned the picture with ‘EY WOT’ at the top and ‘EYYY WOOTTTT’ at the bottom.

Verona’s reply came through:

Let’s call him Duke Carlsbadburg the wretched.

“No, you jerks,” Avery muttered, as she typed, leaving out the ‘jerk’ part.  “I need help-”

Verona’s follow-up message popped up at the top of the screen while Avery was typing.

Eyy wotttttt!

“-Identifying this,” Avery finished, smiling despite herself.

Lucy:
Goblin?

“Not a goblin,” Avery murmured, typing.  She got agreement from Snowdrop.  “Snowdrop agrees.  Snowdrop saw Tomas feeding birds alchemy.  This was in a nest.”

Lucy:
Verona’s on it.

“There’s lots of them,” Avery spoke aloud.  She sent the message, then picked up the last bits of her food.  Snowdrop’s interest piqued.  “Come on down, then.”

Willis Rodgers Loeb was in the building, possibly for an appointment.  Still inside.

The phone buzzed with an incoming message.  Avery touched the message to fill the screen, then put an arm out for rat-Snowdrop to cling to.

Verona:
looked up homunculi, then narrowed it down to ones that don’t move.  that looks like a styan.  which can sometimes move but usually not.

“What’s a-” Avery started to ask.  Verona had another message out before Avery could finish typing.

Verona:
styans are spying and anti-spying homunculi.  they give lots of false positives, pollute augury. sometimes people make them with their own blood and flesh to make it so anyone trying to track them tracks the styan too.

if you use clairvoyance or something and you see one, your practice can start screwing up and showing more styans, or the same one over and over.  they have mocking and weird faces because some say that helps make the pattern happen.

Lucy
Did you get seen?

“No,” Avery said, typing it.

Verona:
was telling Lucy they have only enough of an ability to either hear or see and remember things that they can describe people and events.  But if you were seen he could tell others.

Why the nest? Avery typed.

Verona:
i think thats a general homunculus thing.  is ne way to make them. make animals give birth to them and care for them as if they were their own babies.  saves the maker lots of trouble.  if something goes wrong you find your styans and ask them questions.

i want to make one now

Avery sent her thanks, then stretched, picking things up.

Verona continued researching, sending more information.

Verona
they die and turn into lumps of mystery meat moments before innocents can see them.  so they have to hide.  looks like you need to feed animals diferent mixes at diferent times to get a homunculi to give birth so the animals probs live and nest nearby.

The bracelet clicked.  Someone in the office watched her now.

Avery sent a reply with a thumbs up.  She let Snowdrop devour the last of the fast food, then had her get into her backpack.  She waited until the glamoured up opossum was comfortable and secure before moving the bag.  A few days ago she’d accidentally squished Snowdrop’s foot when a book had pulled it into an awkward position.  Snowdrop had been nice about it, but Avery had felt the twangs of pain through the connection.

Another message from Verona.

Verona:
Eyyyy wottttt!

Avery rolled her eyes and sent one back:

Avery:
EY WOT

Not hurrying, not staying either, she sorted out her stuff and tossed the containers for the deep-fried pickles and cheesy poutine.

Willis left the office, in the company of Tomas and a man Avery was pretty sure was the head of Kinard Investigations and Situation Management.

Avery made sure not to watch them too much.  She’d been told that Tomas was on the alert for police, which would make this harder, and it seemed that went for employees as well.  Someone hanging around, not doing anything?  Even if they looked like a college student?  They’d watch them.

She did take a look at connections.  Pausing while the bracelet relaxed, she quickly drew a line between herself and the homunculus, so she wouldn’t get a false positive, and made sure it couldn’t see her and what she was doing any more than anyone inside the building could.  In her jacket pocket, a piece of paper was wrapped around a wooden peg, three spools of thread, a box cutting knife, and a marker with some pins pushed into the cap so they wouldn’t get lost or poke her.  She unfolded the paper and dumped the rest into her pocket.  She smoothed the paper out across the back of her phone.  The Gate of Horn was already stamped into it.

She had a wooden peg in her pocket, and quickly rubbed the end with washable marker until it was glistening with red.  She stamped beneath her eye.

Okay, let’s not fuck this up this time.  Third time I’m trying this.

Each try had been on different subjects, each had failed in subtle ways.  One time when the paper tore, the second time she’d got a tangled mess.

She eyed Tomas and Willis, using her Sight.  She could see the connections between them, and the connections going elsewhere.  She felt a spot of heat on the Gate of Horn, and saw it illuminate on the paper.  Same ink, same peg used to do the stamping, by her hand.  Three steps of commonality to help make the connection happen.

Quickly, she pushed needles with thread already knotted behind them into the closest approximation she could find to where the threads were extending from.  At Tomas’ five o’clock, going to Willis’ ten o’clock.  Through the paper, being careful not to tear it as the thread ran through… across the back of the paper and out the other side, simple loop and knot, across the back of the paper- that was everything obvious.

She got the box cutting knife out of her pocket, twisted loose threads together, then sawed at the twist until it came free.  It required her to put a foot up on a car’s bumper and rest her phone on her knee.  She had to catch the paper and her phone to stop them falling as the threads were cut.

“For Kennet, and in service of the Lord of Thunder Bay, I need to know,” she murmured, pressing her thumb over the stamped part of paper, which was surrounded by the loose threads.

The loose threads fell across the page.  She did another cut for Willis’ group of threads, even if they were thinner.

She watched as the cool wind stirred the threads.

The ends of two cut threads nearly touched as they stretched between Willis and Tomas, as if the cut wasn’t there.  Others moved slightly as their targets did.

Willis got into his car.  Avery arranged the paper across the back of her phone, then cut the paper as best as she could.

This was a backwards improvisation.  The books the Garricks had given her had some stuff on working out paths, which included this thread trick, which was supposedly based on a means enchantresses like Eloise from the Blue Heron could use to to track people by their connections.  She didn’t have the enchantress method, but she could sort of work it out.

Well, based on this, anyway.  It had taken three tries.

Willis drove away, and the threads moved, giving Avery a lingering view of their connections.

This would supposedly stop if interrupted even slightly, and it could backfire, though she wasn’t sure what exactly would happen.

She went back into the fast food place and waited in line again, keeping a vague eye on the business.  Tomas was back inside, and whoever had been watching her had lost interest.

“Two cinnamon apple pies,” she told the cashier.  “Wait, add an extra one.”

“Three?” the man asked.

“Three, please.”

Snowdrop signalled happiness as Avery paid.

You’re going to have to wait.

“You’ve got a mark by your eye,” the cashier told her.

“Ah, thanks,” she said.  She didn’t do anything about it.

Avery, still keeping an eye out the window, saw a woman leave the building.

Collecting the paper bag with the snacks, Avery left, being very careful with the two pieces of paper and threads in her pocket.

She walked until she was out of sight of the business.  They stopped at a park bench, and she was ready to put the papers down, when she felt the bracelet click.

Using Lost Sight from the familiar bond, she surreptitiously looked around.

There was a bus stop across the street with opaque walls and a hump of grassy ground behind it.  It looked like animals had dug into the hump where it met the back of the stop, using that as safe territory.  A tiny homunculus, same size as the last, was lurking there.  This one had the same twirly mustache and also a twirly beard, and its eyes were permanently drawn together in a suspicious squint.

Ey wot, you too?

She moved on, and found a rounded concrete post that had been put up to protect the sidewalk from cars coming around the corner.  The bracelet went still.

She placed the paper on top of the post, and then realized she had to fix the orientation.  She adjusted the angle until she was sure it was right, and quickly marked a ‘N’ on the north side.

“Whatever that is, I like it,” the woman said, as she caught up.

“Heya.  Any trouble?”

“I’m good at what I do,” the woman told Avery, walking up.  She had slightly messy hair and serious makeup, and the look of someone who’d dressed up but who hadn’t been used to dressing up.  A fancy necklace and ring joined a wedding ring on her finger, that looked like wide braids of gold.  “Why did you leave the last spot?”

“Spies.  Alchemical life.”

Avery distributed one of the little apple pies with the dense covering of cinnamon and sugar to Snowdrop, then offered one to the woman.

“No, I don’t eat.”

“Thank you for offering.  What’s this?”

“It’s a live map of the connections I saw active.  Our quarry’s ties to key people around him, the visible ones- people or things he was thinking about or ones core to him.  Same for the justice of the peace.”

The woman looked around, then hooked a finger at her collar.  She tore her dress, and there was a sound like tearing paper.

The Tearaway kid shucked off the guise of being a woman and folded the paper, before tucking it into the ‘v’ of the not-quite-pristine long johns he wore.

“It’s interesting,” he croaked.  “I like it.”

“Because it’s paper?”

“That helps.”

“Did you get anything?”

“Yeah.  I played the role of someone upset her wonderful, wonderful girl was taken in a custody issue.  No straight answers, very emotional, very hard to deal with.  They pushed me off onto a new employee.  Didn’t know what he was doing, he had to go ask for help a few times, and he left once because I was so irritating to be around.  Every time he left, I topped off my coffee, listened in.  Had my ear to the vent in the corner of the office at one point.”

“And?”

“How are you doing on your payment to me?” the Tearaway Kid croaked, voice deep and rough.

“Aiming to work that out later this weekend.  I should have an answer to you by Monday.”

“The whole days of the week business throws me.  We don’t always have days and nights in the various tracts of the Dream, let alone any way of arranging them.”

“A few days.”

“Good,” the Tearaway Kid said.  “The justice is keeping an eye out for certain names and warrants in the system.  He deals with weapon warrants, and seizures.  One name in particular, he was supposed to watch out for, next little while.”

“What name?” Avery asked.

“Wasn’t listening when they said it.  Besides, a lot of this was subtext.  Winks and nods.  They didn’t want to say anything out loud, in case of people like me listening in?  Or magic?  I don’t know.”

“Bugs, maybe,” Avery replied, taking a bite out of her apple pie.  “Hidden recording devices.”

“I don’t know.  But they were careful.  There was one person they were focused on, they went back to them twice.  To Tomas, he was ‘my friend’.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t think the justice doofus even realized it, but I can read between the lines.  Tomas’ friend is bringing weapons in, planning a war,” the kid croaked, sitting on the sidewalk, back to a wall with an overgrowth of tendrils of plant life.

“That lines up with something we heard,” Avery said.  From Bridge, who is possessing Musser’s man Basil.  “I won’t say the source, but we know Musser is dealing with Witch Hunters.  Supplying them, in exchange for a truce.  He wants it to be long-term.”

“Okay.  I don’t know anything about that, but the justice is being asked to help, as insurance.  They’re doing work for him for free, a lady he’s not married to is claiming they’re common law, he made promises to her, they’re going to make that go away.  And they’re paying him too.  He talked about buying a new thirty-six foot sailing vessel.  I would assume that’s expensive, but so many of you have these fancy cars.”

“It’s expensive, yeah.”

“That’s a lot of effort for a small amount of help, isn’t it?  If you aren’t sure if you’ll get caught or need the bribed judge?”

“I think they have resources.”

“But still.  This is important.”

“Yeah.”

Avery worked the apple pie further out of the paper package and took a bite, using her teeth to pull it out a bit more while she looked down at the papers her other hand was holding in place.

“Mm,” she grunted, indicating the papers.  The Tearaway Kid stood on his tiptoes to see, eyebrows raised and mouth stretched out into an ‘o’ as if that would elevate his field of view a fraction more.

Avery moved the papers to the ground, setting her bag down.  The Tearway Kid dropped into a squat, looking.  Snowdrop crawled out of the bag, getting crumbs everywhere inside the bag as she smacked.

The threads were extended out.  Avery used marker to note which set of connections belonged to which person, with ‘Tomas’ on one and ‘Justice Loeb’ on the other.

“Mind holding this put?  Be gentle, don’t tug on the threads or anything.  This is pretty fragile and even a hard jostle might break it.”

“I won’t,” the Tearaway Kid said, with reverence, as he held the papers down to keep them from blowing away.

She got out a map of Thunder Bay.  Gilkey had told them where to find people, telling Snowdrop where this place was, and as Avery had gone through the various surveillance activities and checked in with Queen Sootsleeves’ spies, the Tearaway Kid and the car song, she’d marked down some key locations.  She put the map down, then lifted up Tomas’ paper, judging where they were now and where the threads pointed.

“The so-called private investigator you were listening in on has four kids by two ex-partners.  One of those kids stays at his place all the time, one comes over every other week, and the other two come on weekends.  Now this is a weekend…”

She pulled a book out of her bag, brushed some crumbs out while she was at it, and opened it, checking.  Opossum form Snowdrop licked up the crumbs.

“And it’s an off week for his oldest daughter.”

“You’re good at this,” the Tearaway Kid told her, looking at the planner.

“Got some practice when I was checking on local Others, trying to figure out which might’ve done the Carmine thing.  Working out the places they hung out, schedules, who they spent time with.  Look.  Four threads all grouped together.  One of them is super rigid.  If I move the paper…”

She moved the paper.  The threads adjusted.  Some took longer to adjust or figure out where they were meant to be than others.

“One’s rigid, like it’s being pulled super straight.  I think that might be his connection to home.  Home doesn’t move.  Then you’ve got the three kids who are at his place, but he had this important business, so he came to the office, right?”

“Yeah,” the Tearway Kid replied.

Avery got out a marker and carefully colored threads.  Green for family.

“That’s- this grouping looks like work, office, some close associates…”

“Then we’ve got some others.  And I find this one interesting…”

She moved Justice Wallis Loeb’s paper close to Tomas’ paper.

Both had a connection stretching northeast.  They stood out because there weren’t many threads pointing that way, virtually none for Loeb.

“Both of them have a strong mutual connection.  I think that’s the ‘friend’.  The investigator wanted to protect the friend and was willing to do a lot to help them out, including free work and paying enough to buy a boat with, and the justice is helping them out.  That’s our target.  It was really strong when I first got a look at them but it’s faltering slightly.  Because they’re not actively talking about this friend right now.”

“Can you find ’em?  Follow the thread?”

“I think that’d be a long trip, and I’ve got stuff to do.  Including helping find and unbind your girl.”

“If she’s alive,” the Tearaway Kid muttered in his deep voice, before looking at Avery like his heart had been ripped out by the mere act of speaking it aloud.

“I don’t think those guys kill that often.  I don’t know what the family was like back in the day they bound you, but… let’s hope?  Okay?”

“Yeah,” the Tearway Kid agreed.

“Now, let me think… I can secure this with a border, I don’t think it has to be fancy,” Avery said.  She penned down a border around Tomas’ paper, with the threads reaching out in various directions from the rune at the center.  She was glad when the act of putting the border in place didn’t kill the work.  “Words of power.  Bit of a power feeding in gradually from me and the power I’m given so the entire thing doesn’t die if the power supply gets interrupted, like if I were to tell a lie…”

‘For Kennet‘ at the east side.  ‘For Thunder Bay’ at the west border.

Snowdrop had turned human, and leaned onto Avery’s back, chin on her shoulder, looking over.

“Done licking the crumbs out of my bag?”

Avery licked her thumb and wiped the stamp mark off her cheekbone.  She turned to Snowdrop.

“You got most of it.”

Avery rubbed more vigorously.

“Made it worse.”

“Worse still.  Red marker all near your eye now.”

Avery licked her thumb and rubbed a bit more.

“Now it’s unsalvageable, people will think you look weird as heck,” Snowdrop said.  “Terrible.”

“Thanks Snow.”

“A jerk like me totally doesn’t deserve that third apple pie.”

“Take half.”

Snowdrop cackled and stopped leaning on Avery, going off to find the food.

Avery checked the connections were still active.  “Hopefully this stays live for another few hours, at least.  I’ll follow up on it.”

“Anywhere you need me?” the Tearaway Kid asked.

“The exterminator family.”

“I could go back to the kids.  They’re bored and talkative, and it might be a last chance to get details before they get sent away.  Remember?”

“I remember.”

“Or I could try getting close to the higher-ups, but as I told you before…”

“Yeah.  The kids are fine.”

The Tearaway Kid gave her a salute.  “I’ll go do that, then.”

The Legendres had changed things up with so many family members away.  The way things were set up now, they only came into town a couple of times a week, usually to resupply, touch base, and meet family obligations.  Three of their kids, two ten year olds and an eleven year old, were kind of left in the lurch, without regular teachers.  So they’d brought in one of the guest teachers from the Blue Heron as a tutor to keep them occupied and show them the ropes.  But that teacher was only active half the day, and the other half the day, the kids wandered the bounds of their property and hung out, making up games to play.

Which, to Avery, sounded pretty perfect.

They’d connected with similarly-aged kids from a neighborhood at the fringes of Thunder Bay, and they’d formed something of a friendly rivalry, sometimes banding together against kids from another neighborhood deeper into the city, sometimes hanging out all together, other times finding reasons to compete.

The Tearaway Kid had joined the second group, who were often busier and less organized than the Legendre kids and outnumbered by the city kids.  In the quiet moments, making s’mores around a fire, they let a lot slip while they thought they were being crafty about what it was their family did.  It was low-grade, easy information and it was pretty safe.

Avery suddenly really wanted smores.

The other option had been trying to get the Tearaway Kid inside, where he could talk to Legendres.  Hard for an outsider, high risk, super dangerous if he got caught.  He’d already done it once, asking for help with a job, and that had led to him finding out about the kids and the tutor.

“How do I find you, next time?” Avery asked.

“I’ll swing by, check the patio.  Snowdrop can tell me what’s up, or talk to you.”

“I’m not okay being a secretary,” Snowdrop said, mouth full.

“That works.  I should have details late tonight.  If you catch me around nine fifty at night I should be out on the patio of my place.  Snowdrop almost definitely will be.  Do you want to come?  So you’re there to get the details?”

“You’ll protect me?”

“Yeah.  If you don’t cause a fuss.”

The Tearaway Kid nodded.

“See you then.  We’ll talk.  For right now, I’ve got to go.  I did all this this Saturday morning to have the rest of the weekend free.”

“There you go with weekdays again,” the Tearaway Kid muttered.  He gave her a salute, then began to pull papers out where he’d tucked them into his long-sleeved shirt, along with a roll of tape.

“Best if you get into the bag again, Snow.  We don’t want to get seen by any homunculi.”

“They’ve been around for a while,” Snowdrop told Avery.  “Didn’t want to admit that.”

“Around?  Like, here, for this conversation?”

“Exactly.  It’s not a new measure or anything.”

“You think he stepped up security?” she asked.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Starting when?  Shit, wait, bad question.  Was it after… the vault?”

“No.  I was thinking something else.”

“Anything I need to worry about?” the Tearaway Kid asked.

“They might be on higher alert.”

“Could be this ‘friend’,” the Kid told her.  He taped papers together.

“Could be.  Could be we got too close to one of them.”

“Okay,” the Kid croaked.

“Be careful?” Avery asked.

“Learned my lesson the first time.  I’ll be careful.”

“Let’s go,” Avery told Snow.  She got the glamoured-up opossum into her bag and then jogged off.

Only so much time for too many things.  And people.

“I can say with reasonable certainty that all four of Florin Pesch, Hugh Legendre and Tomas Whitt are associating with Musser, as are the people they’re working with.  Theodora has apparently cut off ties with them.  She’s mostly frustrated at losing power and progress and she’s upset that Musser’s group won’t give her help.  She’s more focused on finding who raided her vault and there’s a chance that if Musser finds out, he could win her over, but for right now I don’t think she’s a danger to you.”

Avery and Snowdrop stood before the Lord of Thunder Bay.  The space felt smaller than it usually did.

“I’m certain Legendre is working directly with him.  I’m very confident that Whitt is too.  I’ve got to track down one more detail, but the timing of things lines up.  Legendre is preparing for more serious fights, even on a level beyond what they’ve been doing.  Apparently they’re sending their kids away for a sort of vacation.  Or that’s what they’re telling the kids.  But they’re also bringing in family members from overseas.  Keeping them in territories that aren’t Thunder Bay.  So you won’t know.”

The Lord made no motion or sound to acknowledge Avery.

“Whitt is preparing to do business in what sounds like weapons… guns.  Preparing for a fight, at the same time the Legendres are shoring up defenses.  And it’s not because they’re picking a fight with the Legendres.  They’re preparing for every eventuality, buying a justice of the peace and making sure old connections are solid.  Tomas hired some people, is holding a lot more meetings, seeing less clients.  They’re putting money into it, too.  A lot of it is based around a someone I think is their primary gun runner or whatever.  The guns might go to the Witch Hunters, supposedly to buy a truce.”

A part of her was thinking back to Verona pointing out the Lord of Thunder Bay might not understand every modern human concept, but there was no indication of confusion.

Avery went on, “Florin has done nothing overt in the time I’ve watched him.  I think he’s dangerous to you for other reasons and he’s a friend of Musser… but I’m not sure he’s a part of this plot.  It might even be possible he’s avoiding working with Musser because he has his own plans he doesn’t want to upset.  Am I forgetting anything, Snow?”

“Lots of stuff you’ve never covered before.”

“Right,” Avery said.  The Lord of Thunder Bay’s lack of talkativeness made this hard.  “Thea’s apparently out, Florin’s dangerous but not involved in any way I can tell, virtually positive Tomas Whitt is in, and I know Hugh is in.  There’s a chance there’s trouble on the horizon.  That about sums it up.  I’ll know more soon, but I think I’m pretty close to the point where I’ll stop being as useful to you for keeping track of these guys.”

The Lord of Thunder Bay nodded.  She altered the wall of water, making a door.

Avery almost went through, but hung back.  “Is Gilkey around?  I wanted to give him some warnings in case he did spying of his own, and to ask him some minor stuff.  Fill in the gaps in my knowledge.”

The Lord of Thunder Bay shook her head.

“Okay, well… damn.  Send him my way if he shows up?”

The Lord nodded.

“Oh, and this might sound crummy, but I’ve got plans this weekend.  I think Snowdrop and I have done a good job here.  If it’s not a super emergency, could you let me off the hook with the work stuff?  Don’t call me in for council meetings?”

She made a pleading gesture with her hands.  Snowdrop did the same.

The Lord extended a hand toward the door.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Too much is unknown,” the Lord told her.

“Well… that sucks.  So it’s neither a firm yes or a firm no?”

The Lord nodded.

Avery itched to say something about how she’d been promised a full life and this was the prime time to call in that chip.  The problem was, that was a Kennet thing.  The fact it wasn’t there really made this whole dynamic feel worse.  It was so good that Lucy had decided to ask for that, and she really missed it in this moment.  “What I’m doing lets you help you more.  Allies, getting information, that sort of thing.  Plus, you know, if I’m happy and healthy and not losing my mind because I can’t hang out with people I cherish, then I can do more for you.”

“Too much is unknown,” the Lord told her, again.

Avery nodded again.

She took a few steps back, took hold of Snowdrop’s hand, then ran for the door.  This time, riding through, she tried to swim some, making her body rigid, periodically kicking to control her orientation.

She came out of the water with a bit of air.  A few running footsteps and a bit of a slide brought her out onto the coarse sand.

“Bwah,” Snowdrop sputtered.

“Come on,” Avery encouraged Snow.  “You want to run or do you want to be carried?”

“Carry me,” Snowdrop replied.  “I want to let those apple pies settle.”

“Heyyy, good for you.”

“It’s one of the less annoying things I got from you.”

Avery messed up Snow’s hair.  Snow wrestled with her a moment, and Avery came dangerously close to falling ass-first into wet mud in ten degree weather.  She did get the ankle of her jeans and one shoe wet.

“I lost that one,” Snowdrop told her.

“Come on.  Let’s get back.  I’m looking forward to this.”

She hurried home, Snowdrop following a bit behind.  As they got close to the house, they parted ways, Snowdrop turning into an opossum with plans to scale up to her usual hangout spot on the patio.  Avery let herself into the house and jogged up to her room, passing the second floor apartment.  “Hi mom!  Bye mom!”

“Have you eaten lunch?”

Avery retreated a few steps.  “Not yet!  We’re going to eat later.”

“I’ll give you some money.  But I want to meet your friend.”

Oh man, I have no idea how this will go.

She changed out of the pants with the wet ankle, switched shoes, and sorted out some of her stuff.  She made sure to keep the papers in her jacket pocket.

Homework done as of last night, everything sorted.  She’d had practice yesterday afternoon, did some surveillance after, she’d woken up early, then she’d done more surveillance.  A lot of that had been in hopes of buying a bit of time off.  Unsuccessfully.  She checked her email to Jude, and things were still on.  Jude would be waiting at the Path with two cousins.

It felt like she was juggling so much, running around so much, and every time she tried to get to a place where she could put a ball down or at least relax, she got told ‘no’.

Avery flopped spread-eagle onto her bed, head hitting the mattress just below the pillow.  She lay there, thinking, waiting, watching the clock.

What could go wrong?  What would go wrong?  What was she neglecting?

She picked up a book that the Garricks had sent in the mail.

Much of the Aetherial, as we classified it in chapter one, has been co-opted by other, weightier realms that sit closer to earth.  We posit that the Dreaming realm as we know it takes the whimsical tenor it does specifically because those other realms draw as heavily as they do on the elements of human experience that aren’t as whimsical.  As we explore this chapter, we implore that the students keep some of the more puzzling aspects of the Dreaming in mind.  What is it to receive an honor for completing a segment?  Why are honors granted, and what system moderates them?

The text Procession into Dream suggests a system of key individuals every Finder will meet in the course of a sufficiently long career, with the dreaded Wolf being the first.  This structural theory suggests that the Dreaming Realm is itself defined by these figures and that the management and system of honors is ultimately shaped by these ‘architects’.  This is the most succinct explanation this author can put forward to address a theory that has been written on hundreds of times, with ever evolving depth.  However, despite the varied writings on the topic, the Architect theory fails one of our most vital tests.  When more information is gathered and more research done into the idea, the answers become more varied and fractured, instead of narrowing to a point.  Even the authors of Procession aren’t sure of the specifics: how many architects are there?  Why have some not met certain architects?  Why have no architects alluded to this power?  What would it serve them?  What of those who don’t begin on the Forest Ribbon Trail?  Answers to these questions by Architect theorists inevitably create more questions.

Here, we posit another theory.  That the whimsy and even the childlike challenges put forth by the Dreaming realm are inherent to the qualities left to it.  Various realms of note co-opt faith, fear, philosophy, image, and deeper symbolism, many of them Aetherial.  In the scattered and looted remains of the corpse are left scattered and disconnected things.  These disconnected ideas that lack structure then become the basis for the same sort ideas that take hold in a child’s mind.  Should this be surprising?  Any child’s mind is also filled with disconnected ideas and lacks structure.

In short, we leave our introduction behind and move into the remainder of this text with a singular premise in mind: that the Dreaming as an overarching force is become a singular identity, engaging in its games and wild and inconsistent delusions because it itself is functionally a child.  Else, that it was once a fully-fledged identity, vast and important, and the other realms picked it clean, leaving it cut down to childlike state.

Avery groaned and put the book down over her face, the cover blocking the light from the window and the other half heavy on the right side.

How could a book called ‘Whim and Vigor’ be so dullll?

She pulled a Verona and flipped through to the end, making sure there were no practices tucked away in the back.

It wasn’t even like it made much sense.

She’d told herself she’d get the maximum value out of the texts, and that she’d read even the bad or incorrect ones.  But the people back in the-

She checked the publishing information.  Rutabaga Research Enclave, 1953.

-fifties, they didn’t even know jack all.  Which, like, fair, but they wasted so much time freaking guessing.

She put the book back in a warded drawer and pulled out another.

100 years Lost.

Avery had glanced over this one before, and she’d saved it as a ‘rainy day’ text, to motivate herself to get through the others that had arrived in the last delivery.  Some woman called Hazel, awakened by a group of women in her town, had fled her vile husband and had escaped into the ‘Dreams’, her husband following after… though the introduction suggested the husband might have been a manifestation of the Wolf, possibly supported by the fact that he took on more monstrous forms and power, and that this power and monstrousness didn’t seem to line up with the boons available in known Paths.

Hazel had fled for a hundred and four years, navigating the Paths, unable to settle anywhere out of fear that he’d come upon her.  Every puzzle that stalled her was a potential chance for him to catch up to her, which he’d done here and there, to brutal consequence.  Her quick wits were the only thing that gave her time and put distance between them.  She was sharper than him, so she stuck to unfamiliar ground, knowing any obstacle that slowed her would slow him more… usually.  The counsel of three Lost who joined her and a book that granted her one hint a day helped her to avoid the worst consequences.  Instinct carried her the rest of the way.

Eventually she’d found her way back to Earth, after stumbling on a young Finder and following the young lady out.  She’d shared some of what she knew, put down into this book, but a lot of it wasn’t explained in ways that led straight to regular practice.

And then she’d gone back, leaving many things mentioned but not elaborated on.  Like places that weren’t Paths, and were instead puzzle rooms with denizens.  Or places that got far from the human experience, where promised prizes were frightening in scale, such as the ability to remove a god and step into the vacancy, or a true Wish. She’d described some of what she’d seen as the levers and cogs of Earth’s reality.  She’d outlined practices she’d fashioned out of necessity.

Then she’d left.  Not to return to friends- those Lost she’d befriended had come out of the Paths with her, and she’d left in such a hurry that she’d left them behind.

Never to be seen or heard from again.  The Finders that had taken her in were excoriated and condemned by practitioners the world over, and Hazel’s notes and diaries ‘confiscated’.  Stolen, it sounded like.  So they couldn’t even use the book proceeds.  Some had even met accidents on the Paths.

There were practices in this one, but the big flaw in the book was even though it was interesting, a lot of it read as stream of consciousness.  Some stuff was outlined as if Hazel had thought it made perfect sense, but the reasons why it made sense weren’t outlined.  Other stuff, she got into the reasons and the thoughts, then didn’t outline the steps.  To complicate it even further, Hazel had collected a lot of boons, then called ‘honors’ from crossing and completing paths.  Things she thought of as rules were instead-

“Avery!”  Sheridan called up the stairs.

Avery stopped reading and sat up.

“Some deranged rock star and her bodyguard are on our front lawn!”

Avery put the book away, then hurried down the stairs.

She burst out the door, took stock enough to locate Liberty and Nicolette, and then stopped, beaming.  “Hey!”

Liberty tackle-hugged her, wrapping her in a bear hug.

“So good to see you!  Hey Nicolette!”

Behind Avery, her mom and Sheridan emerged from the house.  Sheridan had a glass in her hand, and her mom was wearing a bathrobe.  Why are you wearing a bathrobe, mom?  Put on a coat.  Oh my god.

“I cleaned up,” Liberty told Avery, stepping back.  She was wearing a raglan tee with ‘Burn it with fire’ written on it in rusty brown marks that might have been dried blood, black jeans with horizontal slices from upper thigh to ankle, and black spike-studded belts that wrapped around the pelvis and all down her left leg.  A chain bristling with figurines hung from one belt loop and connected to another.  The Sides of her head were shaved, and her hair combed over to the one side, long.  She smiled wide.

“You did!  Oh my god, your smile!”

“Yeah!”

“That’s amazing.  You didn’t have to do that.”

“Maybe I did, you never know.”  Liberty bounced on the spot.

“Did Liberty get braces off?” Avery’s mom asked, approaching.

“More extreme,” Avery said, a little caught off guard at two worlds crashing together.  Liberty used to have her teeth filed to points.

“Hey!  Avery’s mom!  Can I hug you?”

“You can- I suppose!”

Liberty hugged Avery’s mom.  “Your daughter’s helped me out a lot.  Thanks.”

“I don’t think I can claim responsibility.”

“You get some, right?” Liberty asked.  “They pulled her out of your yoo-hoo?”

There was a bit of stunned silence that followed.

“Introductions,” Avery said, as one of the only people who wasn’t too surprised. “Mom, Sheridan, this is Liberty Tedd.  She was one of the few kids around our age at the summer thing.  And this is Nicolette.  She was sort of the only reason we were able to go.  She’s helped us out a lot.”

“Hi,” Nicolette greeted them.

“Liberty, this is my mom, you can call her-”

“Mom?”

“-Kelsey.  And this is Sheridan.”

“The big sister!” Liberty stuck her arms out.

“If you hug me I’ll pour my drink on you.”

“Thank you for driving Liberty,” Avery’s mom told Nicolette.

“It’s really not a problem.  It was an interesting and very noisy car ride.  But I was already coming this direction, and her dad was busy with plans.”

“Do you want to come in?”

“I shouldn’t.  I technically have a client this afternoon, and I don’t have long to get things sorted out.”

“A client, wow.  What do you do?”

“Research, information gathering, information analysis.”

“How interesting.”

“A lot of the time, yes.”

“Hey, I wanted to ask,” Avery turned to Nicolette, interrupting before there were any tricky questions.  “How did things go in Kennet with the possible hire?”

“We will see, I guess.  She’s on board, but she’s an… interesting personality.”

“I’ve only heard, I never got to meet her.”

“Avery seems to draw interesting personalities to her,” Avery’s mom said.

“Mom, geez.”

“You might want to watch-” Nicolette pointed.

“Sheridan!” Avery’s mom called out.  “Don’t-”

Sheridan upended the remains of her glass onto the head of Liberty, who was hugging her.  It only made Liberty hug her harder, laughing.

“Oh geez.”

“It’s fine,” Liberty said, hair dripping, yellow-orange spots spreading across her shoulders.  She smiled.

“Oh my gosh,” Avery’s mom fussed.

“I warned her, she dared me to follow through,” Sheridan said.

“I did,” Liberty told Avery’s mom.  She gave a thumbs-up.  “Your daughter has guts.”

“Interesting personality?” Avery asked Nicolette, quiet.

“The Witch?”

Nicolette nodded.  “Makes me think about how I might’ve been like when Chase found me.  Tough to deal with.  Raw.”

“Are they doing okay?  In Kennet?”

Nicolette sighed.

“I guess that’s an answer, huh?”

“They’re okay.  But it feels like the calm between storms.  Which is worse, in some ways.”

“Worse?”

Nicolette murmured her response.  “During the storm, all you have to do is survive.  Get through each moment, get through to tomorrow.  In the times of calm, you have to reckon with what you did back then, and what you might have to do tomorrow.  You have to do everything you were putting off while you were busy surviving.  There’s a pressure to that.”

“Mmm.  Feeling that a bit.”

“A lot of us are.  Toadswallow gave us a small taste of his market.  It felt like it was a bit rushed.”

“But it was good?”

“Yeah.  Sold out.”

“I wish I’d been there to see.”

“Her other friend poured water on me!” Sheridan exclaimed.

“You’re the older sister, you’re meant to set an example.”

“Have you met me?”

Liberty laughed.  It was a pretty stark contrast to Verona, who’d been kind of shy.  Dealing with someone else’s family was usually hard.

“I should get going before someone starts a fire.  Here…”

Nicolette passed Avery a sheet of paper.

“What’s this?”

“Contact info for Anthem, both regular, which means he’ll ignore you unless he’s not doing anything, and emergency, in which case he might pick up.  There’s some ways to get money in case of property damage, a person to call if there’s an issue with the local council, health card information, insurance information…”

“She has driver’s insurance?  She can’t drive.”

“She can’t drive legally, yes, but she knows how and it’s best if you don’t let her, for everyone’s sake.”

“Right.  Weird.”

“Avery!” her mom called over.  “Liberty should get a change of clothes.  Want to get her set up?”

“Can I borrow a shirt?” Liberty asked.

“Don’t you have clothes?”

“I guess.”

Nicolette popped the trunk.  Liberty lifted out a bag that looked like it was meant to carry maybe thirty five pounds of stuff but was carrying a hundred.  She grunted as she lifted it.

“Want to take her upstairs?” Avery’s mom asked.

“Actually, give me… just a minute or two with Nicolette?” Avery asked.  “I want to go over something.”

“Can I go up?  Lurk in your room?” Liberty asked.

“Actually- we’ll talk about sleeping arrangements,” Avery’s mom said.

Avery noticed her mom had taken off the bathrobe and carried it balled up.  Had she not realized she was wearing it?  Oh god.

“What’s going on?” Nicolette asked.

“I wanted to ask, I’ve got these papers, bit of practice,” Avery said, activating her Sight.  “How are you with connections?”

Her mom and Sheridan had take Liberty inside.  The coast was clear.  She-

She stopped, looking back at the door.  Then she looked down at the papers.

The two papers had one shared connection, fainter for Justice Loeb.  They stabbed off into the northeast.

But Liberty had the same.  And it was stronger than Tomas or the Justice’s.

Nicolette had adjusted her glasses, and kept her hand there on the edge of the frame, looking.

No.  Crap.  Why does it have to be complicated?

“I was going to say I’d pay you out of the Garrick money if you could help me, but…”

“Answered it yourself?”

“It’s her dad?” Avery asked, quiet.  The ‘friend’ who’s handling the weapons delivery for Musser’s group is Anthem?

“It is.”

“What do I do?”

“I don’t know enough to answer.”

“This could go over really badly with the locals.  Or with Liberty.  Depending on what I do.”

“Yeah.  I wondered if you’d navigated that.”

“She’s not really a part of it, right?”

“Make very sure of that before you say it with any certainty before the local council.”

“But until then?” Avery asked, eyebrows knit together.

“I don’t know.  I don’t want to give you advice and be wrong.  If you’re confident things will be okay, you could keep quiet.  Apologize if you get caught.  That depends on the local council.”

Avery frowned.  “The local council is… unfriendly.  Most of the people here who aren’t working for Musser are pretty hostile, or not very strong.”

“Yeah.”

Avery looked at the house, then back to Nicolette.  “Who are you meeting?”

“Sebastian Harless.  Contract guy.  He wanted me to check some details before he okays the signing of a contract.”

“I know of him.  He doesn’t come to council though.”

“It’s boring, unrelated to anything you’re dealing with, and I’m very glad of both those things.  I’m going to get something written up for the Bitter Street Witch while I’m there.”

“I’m glad that’s working out okay.”

“It’s a big help.  It wasn’t the next big step I was anticipating taking, but she’s really strong and capable.”

“Cool.”

“I should let you go.  Keep in touch?  And if you need someone to help negotiate on your behalf, because you’re in front of the council… try to have it happen by Sunday at noon?  I’ll be leaving after that.”

Avery winced, teeth grit together.

“I might be able to give her a ride out of the city if she wants to leave that early.”

“Hopefully not.”

“Go be with your friend.”

“Thanks, Nicolette.”

Avery didn’t leave right away, moving to the front door of the house and waited there, waving Nicolette off.

Avery headed inside and up the stairs.  Her mom was in the kitchen of the second floor apartment, door open, and stepped out into the stairwell as Avery passed.  “A word?”

“Sure?”

“You’re out to Liberty?”

Avery nodded.

“Okay, that makes it a bit easier.  I think, uh, you sleep in separate rooms?  You can hang out until you go to bed, but door stays open and I can walk in at any time.”

“Wait what?  Why?”

“It’s similar rules for when Laurie’s friend was drunk and the two girls stayed over so she could rest.”

“It’s a different rule from when Verona stayed over.”

“I know, and I kicked myself for not thinking about it when it was too late, last weekend.  I told myself she’s, according to both Jasmine and her mom, very into boys.”

“Liberty’s very into boys.”

“And you’re not, honey,” her mom said, touching Avery’s shoulder.  “We’re making this the same rule as it was for Rowan.  No sleeping in the same room as someone you’re… possibly into?”

Avery frowned at her mom.

“It’ll be the same for Sheridan, whether she’s straight or gay, it’ll be the same for Declan and Kerry.”

“If Sheridan wants to bring a boy over to sleep in our room, I vote we let her.  Because you know, first of all, credit for Sheridan being that ballsy, second of all, I’m pretty sure sneaking boys into their rooms is a major story element of that show she loves and it could count as research for that podcast she really should do…  eh?  Eh?”

“I was pretty proud I came up with that on the fly like that.  Also, hm, three!  I think a guy that can see how sweet Sheridan is behind that sarcastic, annoying defensive layer she puts up deserves to get to break the rules.  And double the number of birthdays for the rest of his life.  At least sleepover privileges.”

“No.  Same rules for all of you.  Maybe an exception for best friends.  I’ll talk to your dad about it.  Now go hang out with your friend before she dares Sheridan to do something else.”

Avery rolled her eyes, then returned to the stairwell and continued to the third floor apartment.

That’s going to make hanging out and doing practice a bit harder.

Liberty had pushed the curtain dividing the two halves of the space back, and was showing Sheridan her keychain.  The figurines that hung from it looked like colored rubber, in shades of dark green, jaundiced yellow, rust red, poo brown.

“Hey!  Nico okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I think I wore her out in the car trip.”

Avery approached, and looked at the keychain.  “Hey, is that Flopsy?”

“Yep!”

“Is this from a cartoon I never want to see?” Sheridan asked.  “They’re so ugly.”

“They’re beautiful in my eyes,” Liberty told Sheridan.  “They’re even scented.  See?  Try scratching and sniffing.”

“Don’t,” Avery cut in.  “I’m serious.”

Sheridan frowned at her, then she scratched Flopsy’s belly lightly.  She lowered her nose to him, and Liberty flipped Flopsy around, butt-up, and gave him a fierce squeeze.

The fart produced would have been one a very gross adult man would have been proud of.  Right in Sheridan’s face.

Sheridan sat down hard on her bed, eyes wide, mouth agape, a fish out of water, unable to breathe.  Then her eyes widened further as the smell hit her.  She retch-coughed.

“Maybe we should light a candle before that smell sets in?” Avery asked, backing up, crook of her elbow covering her nose and mouth.

“If you do you might cause an explosion.”

“Then we shouldn’t.”

Sheridan retch-coughed again.

Avery ducked past the worst of the scent, and opened the window above her bed.  She slipped into Sheridan’s side of the room, which somehow, even given the circumstances, got her a death glare from Sheridan.

But Sheridan didn’t fight her on it, maybe couldn’t fight her on it, and let Avery open the window.  Cold air flooded in and air heavy with goblin fart escaped.

Liberty laughed without making a sound, sitting down on Avery’s bed.

“You have to admit, that was pretty good,” Liberty told Sheridan.

Sheridan, leaning off the edge of the bed and over the trash can that was wedged between bed and nightstand, hand at her hair, tears in her eyes, gave a little nod.

“I just tried to convince my mom that you should be allowed to have boys in your room,” Avery told Sheridan.  “I made a pretty good pitch.”

Sheridan gave her a thumbs-up.

“Is this a regular sort of conversation?” Liberty asked.

“No.  Not at all.”

“Can I take credit for it?  My corrupting influence extends this far, this fast?”

“I guess, yeah.”

“Sweet.”

“Want to go out to grab lunch?”

“Heck yeah.”

“There’s a few places nearby.”

Sheridan, barely verbal, managed, “Overloaded.”

“It’s her favorite.”

“If we bring you something back from it, will you forgive me for having Flopsy fart on you?”

“Ch-” Sheridan tried to speak and coughed instead.  She hung her head over the trash can instead.

“Cheesecake,” Avery clarified.

Sheridan nodded.

“Want to change?” Avery asked.  “You can borrow a shirt if you really want, but I don’t get the point.”

“I’m good,” Liberty said.  She glanced back at Sheridan, then tugged the curtain divider back into place, blocking Sheridan’s view.  She unzipped her bag, and set some weapons, firecrackers, a small terrarium with scratched sides, a little treasure box, and a mason jar full of blood onto Avery’s dresser, before she got down to the clothes.  She pulled out a tee.

Avery turned her back and walked far enough forward she was past the curtain divider.

“I don’t mind,” Liberty told her.

“I do.  I don’t want things to be weird.”

“I love weird.”

“I know.  But there’s uncomfortable weird and there’s fun weird.  Let’s keep it fun.”

Liberty bumped into Avery, throwing her arm around Avery’s shoulders.  She’d changed into a top that looked like a specially proportioned white t-shirt that probably cost three hundred dollars, but had been covered with very tiny, careful writing of ‘murder’, ‘death’, ‘maim’, and ‘butcher’, among many other words.   “Good plan.”

“The, um, jar.  And brass knuckles.  And the… knife?” Avery whispered.

“Exploding knife.  Right, yes.  It’s so weird being somewhere normal again.  Always an adjustment.  Sorry.”

“And maybe secure it against spies?”  Avery crouched down by the bag and helped hand stuff down.

“Can do.  I could set a guard?”

“Mmmaybe just a rune.”

Liberty did one on the inside of the top flap of her bag.

They straightened.  Liberty linked elbows with Avery.

“Shall we venture out to our lunch date, miss Kelly?”

“Yeah.  We shall.”

Sheridan coughed.

“With cheesecake, if we can!” Liberty called back, as they got to the stairs.

“Maybe take a shower to rinse it off?” Avery called back, before Liberty dragged her off.

Sheridan made a retching sound.

“…on bad terms with the locals.”

“Ah.  Shit.  So he might not be able to pick me up?”

“Ah, I guess not.”

“I wonder if he’ll be there at the edge of the allowed territory to pick me up.  We used to have these games we’d play and things we’d sing on car trips.  Me, him, and ‘Meri.”

“Sounds nice.”

“I guess he’ll send someone to pick me up.  I can use the warrens to travel places fast, but whatever route I take, enough goblins follow me that the goblin population in wherever my destination is like, I don’t know exactly, but I feel like it could double.”

“Wouldn’t be hard here.”

“I heard.  Ick.”

“There won’t be any problems though?”

“Who knows?  Nicolette and I stopped in to see the Lord when we came in.  She didn’t ask any questions or anything.”

“Was it just her?”

“Yeah.  Why?”

“Wondering about a… friend, I guess,” Avery replied.  “Also, would’ve been a different experience if you’d had some of the local head honchos around.”

“She seemed distracted.  The Lord.”

“Hopefully it’s nothing that interrupts the weekend.”

“So what are we doing?”

“Um, well, I do have one obligation I sort of have to meet, which is an appointment on the patio at about nine fifty.  An Other is dropping in, he’s a good guy.  Doing me some favors in exchange for help finding and rescuing his girlfriend.  Or whatever she is to him.”

“Love that.  I’m all for it, and we can bundle up in our chairs.  Can we have a fire?”

“Maybe?  I’m not sure we’re set up.”

“We’re practitioners, we can figure it out,” Liberty answered.

“In a way that won’t make my mom flip out?”

“Maybe!”

“Anyway, we can try.  You still okay with running a path?  It’d be tomorrow.”

“And get the ability to leap out of windows and grab onto stray ropes and stuff?  Heck all the way to yeah.”

“Cool.  Sorry it’s a little awkward.  I’ve got all these things I want to do, people I want to be with, and I feel like I have to combine them together sometimes.”

“Like who?”

“Like you?  Um, the Garricks, I think that’s more political, finding allies among Finders.  Nicolette helped me negotiate for so much of a power boost, I haven’t even been able to read all the books or catch up to where I know I can be, now.  Jude Garrick helped with that.  He should be there tomorrow.  I should talk to Fernanda, I’ve been trying to reach Zed.  Last I heard, Brie was fine, but they both sorta…”

“Skedaddled.”

“Left, yeah.  I’m on a team here.”

“Lacrosse, yeah, you said.  Have you had another tournament game?”

“No.  Just the one.  I think we could’ve done better if I hadn’t been distracted with local council duties.  Hmm.  And I’ve got friends, which is weird because, you know, I told you how I went a while without any?  And even family sorta dropped the ball?”

“Yeah.  I know that feeling.  The Blue Heron felt a lot like that, before it basically shut down.”

“Shut down?  What?”

“Basically.  We’re down to like, twelve students and two guest teachers.  I think my dad might pull me out.  Anyway!  Was saying I know that feeling.  I could look after the kids, but even a lot of them left.  There was only Talia, and her mom came to be a guest teacher and she stopped being able to go out at ten o’clock for a party in the woods.”

“That’s really too bad.”

“There were a lot of nights, where if I hadn’t had you to talk to, I don’t know what I would’ve done.  Cried like a lame-o, I think.”

Avery reached an arm over and gave Liberty a one-armed hug.

“Thanks for putting up with me.  Especially after the attempted murder-slash-attempted-maiming on the bridge.”

“You’re a friend, it’s not putting up with you, you helped me too.  And your heart wasn’t in it, at the bridge.”

Liberty gave Avery an odd smile.

“Or was it?” Avery asked.

“It wasn’t, you’re right,” Liberty answered.  “Anyway, fill me in.  I want to know what you’re up to here.  So I can better imagine what you’re telling me in all the video calls we’ll have in the future.”

“What was I talking about before?”

“Keeping up with me, the Garricks, including Jude Garrick, Fernanda, Zed and Brie, the team, the council, and friends.”

“Jeanine is on the team and I think if I hadn’t known you she would’ve left me reeling.  I sort of want you to meet.  I’m imagining it being like some martial arts movie where some guy trains all his life to master the art of the fist, then goes up against someone else and gets trashed.”

“You mentioned her name.  I’m the true master fister in this story?”

“Yeah.  She’s a bit of a prankster.  You’re… as gods are compared to mere mortals.”

“Cool,” Liberty said, smiling.

“And there’s Nora.  I’ve told you about her.”

“You have.  You’ve told me a lot about her.”

“Just a bit down that way, there’s a thrift store.  We had a game we were going to play.  I got pulled away.  Really sucked.  I’m really worried it might happen this weekend, and spoil your visit.”

“If you get pulled away I can come with, right?”

“Maybe.  I hope so.  It just feels like things are all in this fragile state, you know?  Like every single thing could get spoiled, the peace could always be screwed up.  Nicolette called it the calm between storms.”

“If it blows up, we revel in the fire and chaos.”

“I’m not sure I’m good at that.”

“I’ll teach you.  Do up some magic circles, gouts of flame?  Blast some rock music?”

“I’ve been listening to some,” Avery said, a smile finding her way to her face.  “Nora went hard on the drums, it was really cool.  I got Lucy to send me her favorite stuff in that general genre.  Trying to find stuff in the neighborhood of eco-goth-rock.”

“Then we’re already partway.  If this stuff is really worrying you-”

“Not worry, exactly.  More like… it’s a bad feeling hanging over everything.”

“If there’s badness, and I can show you a way out, like I sorta found with the help of a mutual, monocled acquaintance of ours, then that’s the least I can do as your friend.  If we’re friends.”

“Of course.”

“Yeah,” Liberty said, nodding.  “Cool.  You helped me out lots.  So it’s the least I can do.”

“Thank you.  That means a lot.”

“I tried to bring Cherry but Uncle Toad wouldn’t let me.  Said it was dangerous.  Got snippy about my dad.  I think it was stress from the market opening.”

“Ahhh, it was only last weekend though.”

Snowdrop stirred in Avery’s bag.

“That little girl doesn’t have enough of a brain to keep track of time,” Liberty pointed out.  “You know it would’ve been fun.”

“Yeah.”

“You could head that way.  Especially now that they found a shortcut in.”

Avery nodded.

She thought about it.

“Your expression just changed,” Liberty said, nudging her.

“It’s just… family, you know?  My dad doesn’t quite get it and I know a lot of people have it way worse, but…”

“I don’t know.  I’m lucky, because whatever Toadswallow says, my family’s really supportive.  ‘Meri is awesome, even if she goes all out.  And my dad is my hero.”

Fuck.  Shit.  This is tough.

Avery was once again reminded about Anthem Tedd being the weapons dealer.

The person who could easily be the factor that broke this peace and brought the next storm.

“Music store,” Liberty said, pointing.  “We could get electric guitars to set on fire for the big revel in fire and chaos.  Daddy gave me spending money.”

“That’d be a weird thing to do with spending money.”

“A fun weird thing to do with spending money,” Liberty told her, dragging her over to the display window.

Avery glanced over the contents of the store.  It looked like an old setup that hadn’t aged, where plastic had sat around for so long in the sunlight coming in through the display window that it had changed in tint where the light shone on it, and long counters made of the same material as school lunch tables had cracked.  Instruments in the back half, which looked better tended, CDs and records in the front half.

It wasn’t until she’d looked over things twice that her eyes settled on Nora.  With Nora’s brown skin, black hair and black clothes, and the dim store, she hadn’t seen her.  Nora was staring at her, eyes doing the robot thing.

“Nora.”

“I was wondering,” Liberty said, letting go of Avery’s arm.  She went to the door, motioning.

Avery wasn’t sure if they were going inside or if Nora was coming out, and they kind of ended up grouped up at the open door.  Someone came through, and they crowded out of the way, back over toward the outside of the display window.

“Hi,” Nora said, looking a little shell shocked.

“My friend Liberty, visiting from out of town.  Liberty, this is Nora.”

“I love the look,” Liberty said.  Nora was wearing a black sweater, the big black duffel jacket with an oversized hood, and black pants with oversized boots.  Her ‘locs’ spilled out the side of her hood.  “Really love it.”

“I- thank you.  I don’t know if it’s anything special.  I was trying for something and… I dunno.  I think you lapped me.”

“Are we interrupting, or-?” Avery asked.

“No.  I’m not doing anything.  You guys?”

“We were going to eat at Overloaded but the wait was long and we were hungry.  We ordered cheesecake and we’re picking that up for my big sister.”

“I fart-maced her,” Liberty said.

“What?”

“Like mace, but it was a fart in a tiny little goblin-shaped accessory, see?” Liberty showed Nora, twisting around to show off the chain with the various miniaturized goblins hanging on it.  “She was pretty cool about it, considering.”

“Which is weird, because Sheridan’s not very cool about most things,” Avery noted.

“Anyway, it’s apology cheesecake,” Liberty said.

“I wish I got apology cheesecake at least once in my life.”

“Anyway, we’re hanging out,” Liberty said.  “And Avery’s saying she doesn’t have time to hang out with everyone she likes and do everything she loves.”

Why does this stir up that ominous approaching storm feeling? Avery wondered.

“Want to hang?” Liberty asked.

Avery glanced at Liberty, and she really couldn’t read Liberty’s expression.

As for Nora, Nora’s eyes widened.  She looked both ways, at each of them.  “I don’t know?”

“Help her decide,” Liberty told Avery.

Avery stepped up, “Hmmm… I think we’re just hanging around and talking.  Maybe walking around some.  We’re going to sit on the patio, and not let my mom see the opossum that snuck up there.”

“Snowdrop?” Nora asked, smiling a bit.

“Yeah.  Anyway, if you’re up for it, it’d be great.  You could stay for dinner,” Avery said.  “Then patio after.  But not too late.”

“My mom wouldn’t let me stay late anyway.”

“Is that a yes?”

Nora nodded, shoulders hunching up a bit.

The sense of foreboding went away, and Avery couldn’t help but smile.  “Cool.”

“I was just telling Avery about how we need to be prepared to revel in any chaos and messed up stuff that happens.  Blast some rock, burn something, kick stuff over.”

“I like parts of that.”

“I dressed Avery up in warrior punk clothes earlier this summer.  Spiked collar, plaid skirt, did up her hair.”

“Without permission.”

“Tell me you don’t want to see that.”

“I can’t imagine it,” Nora said.  “It’s not really her?”

“But it’s fun, right?”

Nora nodded.  She looked very intimidated by Liberty.  Which, like, entirely fair?  Even without the sharpened teeth.

“Gotta run across the street,” Avery said.  “Grab that cheesecake.”

“You go.”

“And you’ll be good?”

“I won’t swear such an oath at this present time,” Liberty said, hand to her heart.

Avery drew her eyebrows together, worried, but she nodded.  She hurried across the crosswalk.

She had to navigate through the crowd.  The boon from Zoomtown helped just that tiny bit with weaving through traffic, even if it was human traffic.

She reached the counter, gave the phone number, despite the hubbub of people just inside who were talking, and the people just outside the door.

The hostess went to get the dessert.

As Avery waited, she glanced back.

Liberty and Nora were talking.

Before, Nora had looked intimidated.  Now she looked scared.  The foreboding feeling swelled in Avery’s chest.

It’s not just that things are fragile in the quieter moments, and that so many other things are volatile.  It’s… if the quiet gets ruined, that’s it.  It’s saying there might never be a chance to breathe, be okay, and set better things up.

Next Chapter