In Absentia – 21.14 | Pale

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“No no no no no,” Avery groaned, as a tram rattled to a stop.  She banged the coin slot.  “That was barely anything.”

“You put in so much money, too,” Snowdrop added.

“Damn it,” Avery groaned.  She looked at the painted coin in her hand.  Last one.

No.  How hard could this be?  She stepped off the tram and into the city street.  Lost bustled around her, wearing drab colors of a vague era, where suits were common but it wasn’t quite the sixties or seventies.  It wasn’t as busy as the Promenade, and a part of her wondered if it was a dying Path, or if Lost were moving out.

A sour looking man with herbs in the side of his cap with more bursting from his lapel, the flash of his light green top startling.  A tall woman who was head and shoulders above one group of Lost on the sidewalk had to take a detour, and in the moment between her stepping away from the group and her throwing a coat over her shoulders, Avery saw that everything from the shoulders down amounted to four spindly clockwork stilts with two short rods to manipulate the coat.  As soon as the coat was on, it was almost impossible to tell.

Avery ducked between a man in a suit, who had an eagle’s face on the one side of his head, human on the other, and a tin man standing in a small puddle of leaking oil.

There weren’t many shops or anything here, but there was a cigar shop- useless for her, and a fish and chips place.  Maybe?

She let herself into the fish place.  There wasn’t much of a line.  The smell of fried fish filled the air inside.

Pocketing her coin, reaching into her bag, Avery fished out some newsletter from Kennet and crumpled it.  There was a little stand at the side with some memorabilia from the Paths, including little pictures and things, run by some kids.  Given that one of the kids had black hair and an eyepatch like the man at the counter of the actual fish and chips place, it looked like he was letting his kid manage the side counter.

The line cleared and Avery hurried to the counter.  She put the crumpled paper down.  The man with the eyepatch put down a coin.

Too small an amount for the tram.

Snowdrop stepped forward, and put down a fistful of french fries.

“You had french fries in your pocket?” Avery asked, as the man with the eyepatch withdrew his coin and offered a larger denomination.  Still too small.

“It’s not on purpose,” Snowdrop replied, looking left and right.  “I wasn’t going to maybe eat it.”

Avery kissed Snowdrop on the forehead.  “Um.”

“I’ve got a business to run,” the man behind the counter said.

“Service with a smile?” Avery asked, putting an arm around Snowdrop’s shoulders, flashing a smile at him.  Snowdrop did the same, with slightly uneven, crowded teeth.

The man sighed, and passed them a larger coin.  “Get me in trouble, I keep doing this.”

“Thank you!” Avery called out, already heading toward the door.  She paused at the stand.  She pointed at one thing.  “Can I?”

“No, but I’ve got so many of these pictures of the bridge of stags, they’re worthless to me.”

Avery took one.

“For my wall at home, maybe,” she told Snow.  “Or maybe it’s useful somehow.”

“Tourists,” the man behind the counter said, to a colleague, as Avery and Snowdrop pushed their way out the door.

“Detour?” Snowdrop asked.

“Is it five seconds or-?”

“More like five hours than five seconds.”

Snowdrop went around the corner to the alleyway, then came out with two things of fish and chips that had apparently been tossed.

“I’m not hungry,” Avery said.

“That’s too bad, I was going to give you one.”

“Come on.”

The tram hadn’t moved, and foot traffic had Lost on all sides of it.

She’d thought this Path overall would be faster, from what she’d read, but the painted coins had only taken them so far.

She looked at the coin before dropping it inside.  There were painted figures on either side, and a cut-out in the center, shaped like crossed conches, with figures holding it up, blowing.  A number, a word in a language she couldn’t read, and a falling woman on the other side, something winged flying down to reach for her, the conch cut-outs now wings of something plunging down to try to catch her.

She dropped the coin into a slot.  The tram squealed as the brakes took a moment to fully let go even as it started into slow motion, and people on the street naturally moved out of the way, responding to the sound of the machinery.  Some Lost hopped on, grabbing railings on the side or stepping onto the low stairs.

The tram got underway.  Getting around without the tram was too much hassle, with tolls and gates along the way.  The tram rumbled and creaked as it surged its way up an incline- the start of a bridge.

Avery hoped that the tram wouldn’t stop and force her to get another coin.  But for right now, the chance to stop was appreciated.  She’d already done some loops around some places, taking a more scattershot approach, while Verona headed south, then southwest from the general Ottawa area to Kingston, Toronto and the other cities along that way.  Avery had already visited Sudbury and one of the bigger fairy markets.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” Avery urged.  If they had to run another errand, or worse, if they got stranded somewhere, that’d be a disaster.

“I think this is the same box we saw before,” Snowdrop said, showing Avery.

A long, flat box, with different dimensions, with a series of depressions inside.

“I think that’s for some Path gimmick we haven’t bothered with yet,” Avery said.  “Coin collection?”

“Probably not,” Snowdrop said, opening it and turning it over, investigating.  “There weren’t that many near the other exits.  I bet that’s because a lot of Finders decide to take them through.”

“Makes sense,” Avery said.  “Man.  This is one of the more relaxed Paths I’d like to spend a day in.”

“Little less than a day,” a passenger with a high collar that stretched out his neck, with deadbolt-like locks in it muttered.  He had similar stretch-things-out locks at his wrists and holding his middle and ring fingers together.

“Good point.  Thanks for the reminder.  But like… I don’t want to spend a day here when I could spend it with key people, like Nora, or Lucy and Verona, or the Garricks.”

“Not goblins, for me, that’s played out,” Snowdrop added.

“True.  You’ve got your goblin sage thing.  So it’s like… I wish I could double down.  Bring Verona over for something like this, let her put her brain to work on some of these puzzles.  See if we can complete a set of coins… I think each case has a specific grouping of coins you have to hunt for.  Probably with boons if you get it open?”

“I doubt it,” Snowdrop said.  “I hope it’s not one with free food.”

“Mmm, one of these days I’m sure we’ll find one.  I’m just thinking, it sure would be nice to spend an almost-a-day with Nora in one of these.  Riding the tram, cool views, interesting people, low-stakes.”

“Don’t lose track of time,” the man with the high collar said.

“I know,” Avery told him, “thank you.”

He made a grumbling sound, stood up from the seat he’d found and stepped off the tram as it slowed to take a rounded corner.  He seemed grumpy.

To the nearest Lost, Avery said, “I hope this isn’t an inconvenience, the tram or us talking.  Everyone’s so quiet.”

“Nothing to say,” the woman replied.  She reminded Avery vaguely of Dish, the spirit from the perimeter of Kennet.  Different style though, with gaps in her cracked ceramic flesh that had glass or other materials glued in to fill them.  “It’s convenient.”

“Us using the tram?”

“Normally we can only spend to use it if we have to, for our responsibilities.  We hop on if someone’s using it and going the right direction.”

“Huh.  Good to know.  Seems like, with the whole gimmick here, you’d want tourists and things, for handling money, getting things like this moving.”

“There are good and bad parts.  We fall into routines,” another passenger said.  “Normal’s nice, predictable.  But it’s nice when it’s something like this too.”

An old man started talking.  He had bulldog jowls and wrinkles that obscured every feature except a mouth with very long teeth in it, and he talked in a very animated way, arms moving.  Except he didn’t make noise.

The various Lost nodded their acknowledgement.  Snowdrop included.

Avery tilted her head to one side, knocking the side of her head against the top of Snowdrop’s, pulling on the bond.

Listening past the rattle of the tram and other sounds, to hear the sounds that weren’t.  The voids of sound behind the sounds of the city, tram, and everything else formed their own not-sounds, which became a sort of whisper-quiet anti-speech.

“…kept one another accountable, but the city grows and things change, and back in my day, I’ll say, we didn’t need the auditors, and we filled out our taxes because we wanted to…”

Avery had the impression everyone was listening to be polite.  Something about the old man made her think he was old in a way other Lost weren’t, necessarily.

She didn’t mind, though.  It reminded her of a time her Grumble had been more vocal, pre-stroke.  He’d talk about the past in warm ways, about romancing Avery’s Gran, which had been especially nice, when that had been around the time Truck -their old nickname for her mom’s dad, had divorced his wife.

The old man paused, taking a moment to dig a long fingernail into the groove of a deep wrinkle and scratch, finger disappearing down to the base knuckle, Avery asked, “Speaking of the Paths, I don’t suppose you have any ideas about the Paths in general?  Where they come from, where they’re going?”

“…I could tell you about some of the upstarts, boys and girls and other sorts who ended up running Paths, they ended up all over, but you hear tales, like…”

“Like Sootsleeves?” Avery asked.

“…oh no, they’re older, they-“

The tram reached the end, though, creaking to a stop.

“Argh,” Avery groaned.

The old man’s hand reached for her.  Avery automatically backed away from it, nearly bumping into the ceramic woman, with only a barely-there change in direction using the toe of her booth and the Zoomtown boon.

“I’m sorry,” the old man said, sounding genuine.  Others were getting off.

“It’s okay.  Sorry, just… sorry,” Avery replied.

“…Stay a while and listen, girl, I can tell you things, I’ll even pay you for the trouble, you’d be doing me a favor…” the old man urged.

It would be really nice to stay and listen, and get paid and use that pay to do stuff, and this seemed like a cool Path to explore, if she could only come prepared for the various eventualities.

“I wish I could, but I have something else to do.  I don’t suppose we could catch you if I swung by another day?” Avery asked.  “Do you have a schedule or trick I can use to find you, if I come back here?”

He made noncommital sounds.

The tram jerked, things changing around so it could reverse course, going back the way it had come.

“Do you need a hand getting off?” Avery asked.

The man waved her off.

“Okay.  Bye, then.”

“Bye,” he said, in his whisper of an anti-voice.

She winced internally.  There were lots of references to things on Paths that you could bump into, where you could get hints and clues.  Probably, if she stayed and took notes on what was being said, a trove of information like that old man could earn her a lot of cash.  From what he’d been talking about, he knew things about some of the caretakers and central figures of Paths.  He might even know Path history.

Avery and Snowdrop got their stuff together, getting off the tram.

“Here we go,” Avery said.  “Actually did the Path, I think, so we get a boon for completing it.”

“Nooo,” Snowdrop groaned.  “We can’t get too many of those.”

“Come on.”

“It’s too bad, I was hoping we could visit more,” Snowdrop said, as they walked to the door at the end.

There was a beggar on the street, with a cup, with a face painted like a clown’s, but in various dismal shades of yellow-brown.  Hooded, he muttered things every time Lost passed by and dropped spare change into his cup.

The Path really felt like a little slice of city with one twentieth the normal population, spread out.

“And here we are,” Avery said.

Snowdrop ran ahead, passing the beggar, who held up his cup, looking doubly miserable with the sad clown makeup.  Snowdrop ran on by.  There was a whole pile of coin collection cases sitting by the door.  Snowdrop reached in and picked out a few boxes, tipping them over, depositing a few stray coins into her cupped hand.

As Avery jogged by the beggar, he held up his cup to her.

“I’ve only got one coin and I’m holding onto it for emergencies,” Avery told him, turning around as she talked.

She saw what might’ve been relief in his eyes.

Someone else walked by, a big woman with a belly and chest that jingled like a changepurse when she walked.  She gave him change, and he looked up at her, saying, “Thank you very much for your generosity, madam” in the same tone of voice someone else might use to genuinely tell someone to go kill themselves.

“That’s kind of messed up, huh?” Avery asked.  “Considering how this place works?”

“Nah,” Snowdrop said, stuffing a case for a coin collection in the back of her pants before covering it with her sweatshirt and coat.  “It’s fine.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m being ethical.  But I’ll be unethical soon.”

“Huh.”

“Get the door open?”

Avery approached the door and as she stepped onto the platform at the end, chains rattled, and the platform swayed.  Slowly, she began to descend.

“I’ve only got what I came in with,” she said.  The one coin.

The platform rose, stabilized, and then after mechanisms ticked and started rapidly clicking, the chain winched and vaultlike door began to creak open.

“Market estates,” Avery announced, motioning for Snowdrop to catch up.

An internal mechanism turned and changed, banging as it locked into place, and then more parts of the door began to open.

Avery sensed through the familiar bond as Snowdrop looked back at the clown beggar.

The ecosystem here in the Coin Flip was one where everyone got coinage somehow- down chimneys, in drawers, and so on, respective to how much they had and how important they were.  Then, by midnight, they had to fill out a convoluted tax form with calculations based on how much they had left.  So it was a constant struggle to deplete the money you had.

Thing was, coins could only be given away according to certain rules, every Lost just trying to collect something, fill a role, make something, or render a service.  Some Lost here were auditors in plainclothes who stalked the streets looking for people cheating in how they got rid of coin, or keeping track of details to find discrepancies in the tax forms that were handled overnight.

So people collectively supplied what was needed to keep a restaurant like the fish and chips place running, whether it was newspaper, fish, or fries, and then accepted coins, which they then filtered down and got rid of as they were able.  Supporting the place by helping to divest it of coin meant it could stay running, handing out the food, and so it went.

And then in the evening, before the fresh coins were deposited, everything turned upside down and The Taxman swept through the entire city, taking a proportion of things matching the excess of coin people carried.

Here, it looked like people were getting rid of the handfuls of change by giving them to the beggar.  The beggar, in turn, might’ve been forced to sit here and enact the role, out of some punishment, or because he had to fill some role and in this great game of musical chairs he’d been left with this one.  So he sat there, miserable, his coin cup filling to the point of being heavy.  Then when The Taxman came, well, the way these things worked, he’d lose random possessions, potentially including personal stuff, like body parts.

“That’s a lot to carry around, Snow, and we’ve got places to be.  I know the familiar bond lets you carry around more stuff, despite being Lost, but…”

“Announce it to the world,” Snowdrop said.

“Snow.”

Snowdrop glanced between the door, Avery, and the surroundings.  Then she sprinted over to the beggar, snatching the cup from him.

The clown beggar looked shocked, then stood, pointing, “Uh, thief!  Thief!  I’ve been stolen from!”

He sounded happy.

Snowdrop hurried to Avery’s side, dumping the cup into the front pouch of her sweatshirt.  As she stepped onto the platform, it dipped violently, and the door opening swiftly reversed.  The way forward was blocked by the walls around the platform.  Air vented down hard from above- little more than a gust, but Avery figured it was like some of the stuff she’d seen elsewhere.  Like, trying to use certain practice on Falling Oak Avenue or circumvent stuff in the Build Up.  The wind would screw up any flying or special practices trying to skip past the platform to the open door.

“I’m the same as Avery, only have what I came in with, no fortunes here!” Snowdrop announced.

The platform reversed direction, clicked back into place at the top.

Lost were running toward them.  The clown beggar bounced gleefully, pointing.  “Thief!  I’ve been stolen from!  You saw, people saw!”

The door banged as the locks set and it stood wide open.  Avery and Snowdrop sprinted through to the elevator-like contraption on the far side.

The door shut behind them, and the elevator dropped so fast that Avery was able to touch the ceiling as she reached up to keep her head from smashing against it.  They hit ground, snow puffing around them, and her feet and Snowdrop’s feet hit ground, the ground rippling.

“Keeping it interesting, Snow?” Avery asked, her heart hammering.

“Nah.”

“I’m kind of surprised you were able to do that.  I guess we need to research your gimmick a bit more.”

“Nah,” Snowdrop said, panting.  “I hate clowns, especially after hanging out with that clownstick butthole at Liberty’s.  And I figured that was a good way to screw him over.”

“I don’t think you’re wrong.  I’m just worried you like, seriously destabilized something that seemed like a really sensitive economy.”

“If their economy depends on people like that clown butthole, I agree, we should preserve that.”

“Huh.”

“Our market thing could really stand to step it up, become something like that.  Take things to the next level.”

“Where’s that coming from, Snow?”

“Not Toadswallow, that’s for sure.”

Snowdrop pulled out a fistful of coins from the clown beggar’s cup.

“Do those work like my other coins?”

“Yeah,” Snowdrop said.  “But they’re not very cool looking.”

“I guess there’s that.”

Snowdrop also had two coin collection cases.

“Something for a future day, huh?” Avery asked, removing her bag and leaning against the wall.  As long as they were here, she figured they had a bit of reprieve, a chance to regroup.  She took the coins and cases from Snowdrop and put them way.  “I feel like I’m really reaching for that stuff.”

“What stuff?” Snowdrop asked.

“Future days.  Dreams.  Hopes.  It’s kind of always been a thing I’ve done.  Dreams as the only way to get a gulp of air when other stuff feels suffocating.  Saw it in the challenge against Musser.  If Finders were still called Dreamers, I think it’d still fit me.”

Snowdrop leaned over, giving Avery a one-armed hug.

“Focusing on the good dreams, though, right?  Telling Nora that you’re the opossum I introduced her to, early on, that the opossum she likes getting pictures of is important to me?  I think she’d be touched I included her in that.  Running a Path with Verona?  Visiting Kennet found?  Seeing if Sheridan becomes half decent at some Finder-related practice?  Going on a double date with Lucy and whoever she’s dating and Nora, and being actual normal teenagers for once?”

“Me telling the goblins to screw off, I’m not becoming a goblin sage?” Snowdrop said.  “Skipping the lazy sleep-ins with Cherrypop and hang-outs with Louise to go do something with my life?”

“Yeah.  Good dreams.  Gotta get through this, we’re over… one hump.  The last big hump before we take on Charles.  Two judges against two, at least.  So if we need to run just a little harder, when our legs want to give out, if we want to pull on Self when we’re not feeling very Self-y, that’s what we reach for.”

“Nah.  I vote for panic and screaming.”

Avery nodded.  “Trust the others?”

Snowdrop snorted.

“Yeah.”  Avery opened the door to the elevator thing.  “Ready?”

“Nah.”

Avery nodded.  She took Snowdrop’s hand.

Market estates.  One of the key markets in her little network she’d arranged around Kennet.  Ghosts, heroic figures, and more.

She black-roped her way forward, as far into the middle of town as she could get.  With her bracelet off, doors slammed around them, announcing their presence.

Echoes weren’t as strong in broad daylight, but echoes weren’t the only ones present.

“I need to talk to the guild!” Avery raised her voice.  “Emergency, we don’t have long!”

She stood with her back to Snowdrop’s, looking around, watching.

At the other conventional stops, there had been some of Maricica’s people.  Only the fairy market had been clear.  Would there be some here?  How great was the stranglehold?

Would people come charging in from all directions?

“Avery Kelly, you’re usually more polite than this.  What is it you want?”

She saw the figure, part vestige, part echo, part spirit, and more.  Tied up in history and labels.  A ‘Hero’, or a ‘Name’ if they weren’t of the proper status or power to be ‘Heroes’.

Others emerged too.  Enough members of the guild.

“I have the ability to flip things around, give jurisdiction of this market to another, taking it from the Aurum Coil.”

“Who?”

“A Lord Spirit, I think.  It depends on who the closest valid replacement might be.  Exult Wrought in Abundance.  Have there been strangers hanging around?”

“There have.”

“Let me know fast, then.”

“Power taken from Carmine?  For a spirit?”

“Yeah.  I don’t think it’s that cooperative with Charles.”

“Ave,” Snowdrop grabbed her arm.

Two humans who were walking toward the center of town saw them, then picked up the pace, shouting.

One had a gun.

Avery twisted around, punching at the air with the black rope.

Gone before that gun could get pointed at her.

She turned around, looking, and one of the Named, a hunter, looked at her, nodding.

That was permission enough.

She sprinted, ducking through woods.  Her bracelet ticked, letting her know when she was being observed, and she chose the moments it stilled to punch forward.  Traveling forward a few hundred feet at a time.

“Watch-” Snowdrop grunted.

Another black rope forward.

“-for poison.”

Yeah.  He’d poisoned a wide area at the perimeter.

She didn’t want to rush headlong into that.

She’d sent some help his way, as part of the thing with markets, but progress was slow.  A warding encircled him, and she could keep an eye out for that.

Would she have stumbled through normally?  Nah.  But the reminder was helpful.  If something distracted her, and she wasn’t thinking about it, she could black rope ahead and skip past the part where she’d have a view of the wards.

It was maybe three full acres of woodland that was blackened and dying, much like fire had torn through it, but with no signs of the actual fire.  Just blackness and things brought low.

She saw a glimpse of Gilkey, tall in her Sight, shadow and streaky handprints, blood and poison.  His eyes glowed as the dark figure looked at her.  She raised a hand, running along the perimeter of the ward, now.

He raised a hand as well.

This part was clear.  Maricica’s people weren’t patrolling around the warded part.  They were probably spooked.

But as she reached the end of the warding and returned to the perimeter of the market estates, she saw the first of them.

Snowdrop went small, which made it easier to move.  Avery went from black roping her way across the perimeter, keeping it to her right side, claiming it for the Lord Spirit, to dashing to the left, into trees.  The two men shouted warnings to others.

There were about ten, it looked like.  Pretending to be visitors or buyers, maybe.  Or subtly leaning on the locals.

The snow was knee-deep in parts here, so Avery picked a branch, black roping her way up to it, then sitting with one leg on either side, as she got her bag out.

Stapler, spell papers.

She scribbled down a series of marks, then wrote ‘gun’ in the center of the sketched out diagram.

Some of them were approaching.  She was counting five or so.  According to Verona, the people of the Undercity hadn’t started self-realizing until a few weeks into things, so they might be dumb.

Might not.

She waited until the closest one was close, scanning the woods looking for her, aimed, and fired.

Aim wasn’t her strong suit.  She was fast, not accurate.  But she could bend things a bit, using practice to guide her shot to its target.

Clicking the stapler, she fired off a staple, and it hit the nose of the hunting rifle the lead person carried, violently striking it out of the man’s hands and into deep snow.  A tool from the Garricks, back when she’d sold the Promenade secret.  It knocked things away with a lot of force.

Avery black roped to a high point in the trees, pulled the lacrosse stick from her charm bracelet, and plummeted as branches weren’t sturdy enough to hold her.

She landed on the man’s back as he bent down to dig in snow for his rifle.  At the same time, she smacked the snow with her lacrosse stick.  Runes on it flashed, and snow exploded up in a spray.  Blinding the others.  Avery had the eyeliner from the Garricks on, so she could see through the worst of it.

She’d expected the others to hold back, because she was right by their friend, but they didn’t.  With her Sight, she could see as they raised their guns.  She was already planning on running off, using the moment and then disappearing, but the lack of hesitation spooked her.

Punching out to black rope was about as fast as them raising their gun, maybe faster with the element of surprise, so she was out of there before they’d gone on to the next part and pulled the trigger.  One shot sounded like it might’ve been close, but that person had sacrificed the part where they took a fraction of a second to aim, and the shot looked like it went wide.

She ran through woods, aiming the stapler, and fired three more shots off.  Two people disarmed- trees and the way the woman stood kept her from being disarmed, so the staple missed.

They were shouting, organizing, and she wished she had Lucy’s earring to help here.

From glimpses through the trees, as she black roped her way around, it looked like the ones who hadn’t been disarmed were heading back into town.  The two she’d disarmed were trying to find where the staple had knocked their guns, falling behind.  Was the main group cutting diagonally across it to intercept her?

It wasn’t like she was being especially subtle about the path she was taking.

An explosion behind her made her stumble.

Darkness plumed up and out.

She’d seen it before.  The Abyssal thing.

Was it the guy she’d landed on?  Had Maricica claimed him?  Same deal as before, with the car crash?

She kept going.

She had choices.  Being clever and circling around, going for them, or just running, covering ground.

Could she go more than a quarter-circle around before they cut diagonally to the east side of the settlement?

She couldn’t be hurt by falls, but she could still stumble.  Every step through woods and snow was a chance she’d catch the top of a foot on a branch buried beneath, or go too deep, or step onto a slope and tweak her ankle.  Every use of the black rope was an even more uncertain landing into unknown footing, where she couldn’t even really guess.

She borrowed Snowdrop’s eyes, and let Snowdrop use her own eyes.  With Lost eyes, Avery and Snowdrop viewed things from odd angles, to see more of what lay ahead.  Snowdrop communicated here and there with little impulses.  Suggesting that Avery go up to a high branch, or warning about something Avery wasn’t looking at, like a branch at neck level or a hole her foot might go into.

She passed the gap in the east wall before the two people got there.  Way before the stragglers she’d disarmed earlier got there.  She heard them shout as they saw her, but they didn’t have time or a good angle to shoot.

She still had to deal with them, after.

She looked around, then black roped up to a branch, changing course to move to a rooftop.

The wood creaked, footing swaying faintly, and the damaged rooftop made faint splintering sounds under her weight.

Yeah.  Not especially great to navigate on.

But she could see as they ran out through the gap in the east wall, guns out.

She moved to the wall, feet tapping on the icy, snowy surface.  Then she leaped.

Doing a flip over them, squeezing the open stapler to shoot staples in the moment her head was pointing down.  Dropping spell cards.

Only got one of them.  The crummy little diagram might’ve been out of power.  Or just too crummy for how off her aim was.

She landed in snow in a crouch, a bit short of where she’d hoped to land, stood from the crouch in the same moment she leaped backward, landing on her back in piled up snow, leaving an indent, head sticking out- not quite sticking out of the far end.  She punched a hand upward, clearing the view, and black roped at the same time.

A gunshot went off in the moment before the spell cards all went off  A bombing run, scattering them as they leaped for cover or were thrown aside.  A rune on her skin glowed hot in response to the bullet-

Zipping back off in that direction.

She took cover as fast as was possible.  The rune still hot.  Cooling.

Might’ve warded off a hit to that arm.

Thanks Lucy, for refining that warding as much as you did.

Lucy refined and practiced and perfected.  Verona went wide.  Avery…

Avery had her thing, and she did her thing when circling around to the flanks.

Some of them came running toward her.  She looked to the side, and then black roped deeper into the woods.  Circling around more.

Circumventing them, as they now ran in the wrong direction.

She finished her loop, then hid at the final part, leaning against the open gate she’d started by.

Using Sight, she Saw the Lord Spirit standing tall in the middle of town, one arm spread, the other extended.  Acknowledging the guild of people in charge.

People stood by, watching as Maricica’s people regrouped.  When one or two looked like they were going to kick up a fuss, guns were pointed their way.  They backed off a bit.

The lord of the market Estates, a ‘hero’, pointed in Avery’s direction.  They glimpsed her before she could pull her head back.

She used her Lost sight to help see around the corner, taking stock of the situation.  The group moved her way, fanning out, one walking up onto the top of an old, partially collapsed stable, with one corner that sloped down to the ground, its posts rotted out long ago.  The one in the lead was the one that Avery figured Maricica had claimed and spat back out.  The one she’d jumped on.  They pushed aside a semisolid echo carrying a book and some papers, not even quite a Name- just a member of the family who had a little more substance than a normal echo.

He made it about three more steps before he stopped, raising one dirty, stained arm.

What was her best bet here?  Lure them somewhere?

And he crumpled.  He vomited, and it was a hell of a vomit, because whatever internal processes were trying to push out the contents of his stomach, they seemed intent on utterly destroying him.  He convulsed, full-body, about two times, pushing out something that looked like blood, bile, and meat that was more him than something he’d eaten.  He found the strength to raise his face, and Avery saw eyes softening and melting, flesh bruising all over.  He was crapping out the same bloody slurry.

He collapsed, and instead of convulsing to vomit, he just choked on it.

The paper pusher shrugged off the guise of being an echo, closing the distance, getting shot once, before stabbing another of Maricica’s people, a woman, with the letter opener they’d presumably used to stab the first one.

Others started forward, and hunters stepped out of hiding or out over rooftops that were more echo than actual, letting their arrows fly.

Some were shot multiple times.  Nobody from that group came out unscathed.

The woman who’d been stabbed by the Name with the letter opener was slowest to die.  She touched three fingers to her lips.

As the last of them died in that same horrible way, the first two of them were claimed by that hand reaching up from some Abyssal place, catching one on the way up, reaching over, and dragging another into the fissure.

The shallow Abyss spread its energies over most of the area.  Things distorted and expanded.  Echoes shrieked and screamed.

All five were brought back, raised up from a deeper place, mended but scarred, floating above ground, with marks glowing at their lips.

They dropped.

One of them who’d been shot with multiple arrows immediately died again, because the Abyss and Maricica hadn’t fully cleansed the poison from his system.  The same slow, agonizing death.

Two more were incapacitated.

The hunters casually loosed more arrows on the targets, giving each one multiple arrows, this time.  The one in the lead was fast, though, twice revived now, badly scarred, and he dashed right for Avery.

She pulled a charm off her bracelet, shook it out, and then held it up, whispering, “For Kennet, give this extra power.”

She stepped out of cover and aimed the hair dryer at him.

It blasted its hot air, and for a moment, it held the man firmly in place.

He was peppered with arrows the moment he stopped taking evasive action.

Avery put the hair dryer away, watching as the group died again, vomiting and shitting out their own bodies, that were melting internally, everything soft going first, then the rest following, even bones breaking under their own weight.

Maricica claimed them again.  Abyssal energies surged out, but didn’t do a lot beyond a few feet around the center of each crack.

They were revived again.

Died again, promptly.

The third time was a charm for most.  But for the one guy who’d made it close to Avery, he came back a fourth time.  He took a long time to die from the poison, this time.

They all came back endlessly, apparently.  Avery had her head around it now.  Make a deal with Maricica, she gave a kind of immortality.  But it was an ugly kind.  One that meant a dip in the Abyss, like Reid had had, according to Raquel.  Becoming more violent, harder, meaner.

Apparently Maricica wasn’t willing to keep doing it here.  Lost cause.

“Tell your goddess she has no claim here,” the lord of the market estates said.  “Her people don’t belong here.  We will do the same to any we find.  This realm… it has no footing here.”

The Abyss began to retreat.  Avery could feel it, as things condensed back again, the darkness fading.  Pulling back into those cracks in the ground.

Avery ventured partway up the street, giving a lot of space to the diminishing Abyss stuff and the places where the people had died.

“Are we okay?” she asked.

“I pointed you out to them to get them to let their guard down,” the lord of the market estates said.  “We are okay.”

“Was that Gilkey’s poison?” she asked.

“We took the darkest dirt from the areas near the edge of the warded area,” a hunter replied.  Avery had talked to him on a past visit.  “Put it on our arrowheads and blades.”

Avery nodded.  “We could use that.  Push back against Maricica, if it means she’s not keeping the deal with her people.”

“It would be hard. The poison in the dirt eats through any container, causing it to start to leak out.  It corrodes any material it’s working on, within fifteen minutes.”

“Thirty minutes, about?” Avery asked.

“Could be five.  Could be fifty.  And if it touches you, you die like that.  If it touches us… perhaps not.”

“Damn,” Avery murmured.  She changed focus.  “I’m sorry I brought trouble to your doorstep.”

“Trouble was already here,” the lord of the market estates said.  “We were suspicious, but they bought a few things, so we let them be.”

“She might send more, with plans to attack.”

“She would have anyway, when we rooted them out.”

The Abyss was still receding.  It was still there at the north end, like a storm was rolling in.  Dark and ominous, the mist and darkness suggesting a sprawl of ruined buildings and woods in the Abyss, like a slice of old village.

“You sent messengers, but they haven’t unveiled their message.”

“It’s not time,” Avery replied.  Their big trick they’d wanted to trigger against the Aurum, after they’d pinned him down and set the table.  They’d picked people from outside and sent them in, with orders to wait until a signal.  “Be ready?”

The heroic Lord nodded.

“We’re good?” Avery asked him.

“We are.  Let’s get this done, let’s get the markets going again.”

“Something for the future,” Avery said, reaching up to scratch Snowdrop.  She looked up at Exult Wrought.  “We good?  This all going okay?”

“Yes.  Where next?”

“I don’t want to say unless they hear.  Moving on to key targets.”

“I can guess which are likely.  I don’t have jurisdiction there.”

Avery nodded, frowning a bit.  “They set up some ambushes and traps and stuff, but it seems like he’s just running.”

“Do you know of the Coiled?”

“The what?”

“Or Hangmaidens?”

“I know of Hangmaidens.”  One had almost eaten Alexander, apparently.  Spending any amount of time around Jen Belanger, you’d hear about that.

“Animus tied to Fate, who spin their metaphorical webs, set up omens, and lure others in, before devouring them.  Coiled are similar, but their focus is not on Fate,” Exult Wrought explained.  “They are drawn to where there are games or competition, when there is enough corruption.  Practitioner councils, churches, prisons, competitive businesses.  Much as the Hangmaiden flirts with targets, disappearing and appearing where convenient, the Coiled will avoid the people who run these games or hierarchies as they prepare their greater schemes.”

Avery nodded.  “I don’t think the Aurum was a Coiled.”

“He wasn’t.  Let me continue.  Coiled will appear as new prisoners with no clear paper trail, new students, new employees.  They charm their way in, they play their small games, while they do their work.  They expose secrets, they turn the tables, they trick, they lie, they scheme, and they turn a corrupt system where one person has power into utter chaos, bringing down lieutenants and champions, overturning competitions by exposing how hollow they are, turning games that are used to express power into a means of fighting back against that same power.  Smiling as they slither away from the worst consequences.  Then, when all is in shambles and the system is dismantled, they face down the person in charge.  Then they devour them, in a fashion.  The victim realizes the coils surround them, and have for a while, they are restrained, and they are taken to the den of the Coiled, where they take an excruciatingly long time to meet their end, often in an ironic manner.”

Avery nodded.  “I can see the resemblance to Hangmaidens.”

“The difference being, they focus on Fortune, not Fate.  The Hangmaiden spins her threads and draws someone in to a fated end.  The Coiled cheat.”

“Hmmm.”

“Their animal?  Not a spider, but a snake, typically.  Or a centipede.”

“Was that his familiar, then, or-?”

“We did research and asked but it’s surprisingly hard to find.  We even asked an expert augur.”

“He was a fugitive of Fortune, with a city spirit called Sovereign as his familiar.  He never truly got underway with what he planned to do.  Cornered, he took his current role as another way of escaping.  Cornered now, he flees, still a fugitive at heart.”

Avery ran her fingers through her hair, then dropped her hand down to Snowdrop’s head, the little opossum’s nose craning upward toward her hand, and did the same for Snowdrop.  “So he runs.”

“Yet when he took the seat, he called himself the Aurum Coil.  As a student of practices relating to Fortune, he knew about the Coiled.  That is what he truly wants to be.  Subconsciously or consciously, he drew inspiration from Others who turn the tables, play games very well, and cheat Fortune.”

“And who screw with systems?” Avery asked.

“From our information, scarce as it is, that is what he has always been.”

“Coward, cheat, screwing with systems and authorities?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Kind of figures he’d align with Charles some.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, that helps,” she told Exult Wrought.  “Thank you.”

“The information comes courtesy of an Animus who lives in my kingdom in the Spirit World.  I will keep asking.  Will you come to another territory I will claim through the deal I made with him?”

“Possibly.”

“If you do, and if I have more information, I will give it to you.”

“Thank you,” Avery replied.  She paused.  “Exult Wrought?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know if it’s your job or if your responsibilities cover it, I know it’s kind of a weird spot you’re in, where you’re replacing a Judge in duties… but Gilkey is here.  Poison elemental, basically.”

“I’m aware.”

“Part of the Aurum’s job was change, exchange, and transitions.  A deal was made where Maricica was meant to help Gilkey, and she hasn’t.  He’s in a tough spot, we can’t do much more than quarantine him.  If there’s any way…?”

She trailed off.

“I will look into it.  I may have to wait until things are quiet.  I have taken on a great many new responsibilities.”

“Alright.  Thank you.  I don’t want it to be ignored.  I don’t want to forget about the old friends who are in bad situations.”

Exult Wrought dipped her heads in a slight bow.

“Come on, Snow.  We should go.”

Snowdrop, perched on her shoulder, sneezed in agreement.

No sign from the Aurum, but she had a better sense of what to watch out for, now.

Small wins.

Looking forward.

Doors changed as she walked down to the part of the market with more intact buildings.

This next one, at least, would be more straightforward.

But taking Thunder Bay seemed like one of the places that the Aurum might be ready with coils extended, ready to spring a trap on her.  Less straightforward.

She passed into a Zoomtown with a different aesthetic, blazing suns on either horizon to her left and right, taking up a good quarter of the sky each., the rows and columns of buildings in bright primary colors in the middle a nighttime scene, which didn’t seem to recognize the light or proximity of those suns.  Familiar-ish ground.

If the trap wasn’t in Thunder Bay, then, well, there was only one other place more obvious than that.

“Who speaks for the St. Victor’s practitioners?” Charles asked.

“I guess I do,” Teddy replied.

“And the opposition?”

Lucy, arms folded, raised a hand to shoulder level, other hand still gripping her elbow.

“Have you reached an agreement?”

“No,” Teddy replied.  Kira-Lynn stood beside him, glaring.

“Do you wish to duel?  Each side would receive additional power proportional to their supporters.  Here and across the region.”

“Can we see that in some representation?” Lucy asked.

“That’s a nuisance to do,” Charles replied.  “Which means-”

“This is the look on my face when I don’t care.”

“-Yeah,” Charles said.

“For the record, and I am going to ask for a written record of everything that happened here,” Lucy said, “this is the look that’s on my face by default.”

“It is the responsibility of the Judges to handle matters regarding Law,” Guilherme chimed in.

Charles didn’t roll his eyes but it looked like he really wanted to.  He sat forward in his throne, raising a hand.  “Polling the connection spirits of the region, judging the disposition of everyone within, rough power… I will abstract it…”

The stage they were standing on expanded, with an outer rim that extended over river, made of shadow.  Silhouettes appeared as a crowd around it.  Tinting shades of color.

Blood crimson for the group behind the St. Victor’s practitioners.  Pink for most of the rest.

Lucy judged it at maybe sixty percent being behind the St. Victor’s group.

“That,” Anthem said, “seems like a very liberal interpretation of the current beliefs.”

I still think I could win if I had to, Lucy thought.  But she was willing to let this play out.

“It is the people and Others who are in my region,” Charles said.

“You scared off everyone else,” Lucy said.

“You set your rule and fought Grayson and Musser to enforce it.  This is the end result.”

“Don’t count the people you created with the inversions,” Lucy said.

“They remain a presence in the region,” Charles replied.  “One supportive of the St. Victor’s group.”

“Because you made them that way.  When we created the regional spirit, we had requirements for who counted.  When we invited others, we had suggestions for who would attend.  If you create new humans who are so new they barely have individuality or the ability to act outside your whims, I don’t think they should count as a voting bloc.”

“You want majority rule,” Teddy retorted.

“Technically they’re Maricica’s provenance more than my own,” Charles said.

“I don’t want fake people cluttering up the result.  Maybe they develop into full people, maybe not, I don’t know what Charles has planned for them, but for right now they’re babies.  They haven’t broken away from mommy and daddy.  They’re nature and a bit of nurture, maybe, but they aren’t mature.”

“I have a suggestion,” Mr. Mele said, raising a hand.

“The current discussion is between Ellingson and the St. Victor’s group.”

“I’ll allow it,” Lucy said.  “Let’s say, I dunno, prosecution calls on Mr. Mele, battle puppeteer, for his opinions.”

“That’s not a legal thing,” Charles said.

“Let us see one of these Denizens.  Selected from the middle of the pack, we can do diagnostics of the Self, study them.”

“I would give my own input,” Guilherme said.

“I say we skip all that,” Ann chimed in.  “We collectively say no.  We risk legitimizing it by entertaining it.”

“That’s majority rule!” Teddy raised his voice.  “You’re an establishment, you’re trying to crush the new guys.”

“You’re bending and breaking rules, in the way you’ve approached things,” Ann said.  “The Seal exists for a reason.”

“We didn’t know or choose that.  We were approached, we were offered magic in exchange for certain rules and things, we accepted that, and now it’s being sprung on us that hey, the people who’ve been at this for a much longer time are pissed, they want to punish us.”

“What punishment?  We want you to follow the same rules we do,” Lucy said.  “We’ve seen what happens when you don’t.  You do fucked up things and then you skip out on facing the consequences.  Like Joshua did.”

“I do not want to lose track of the idea of doing diagnostics.  It’s an interesting academic point,” Mr. Mele said.

“We set up a certain way, we followed the rules as we were told them, now we’re told it was wrong, and imposing shit on us all at once screws us over.”

“That happens all the time with shitty practitioner families,” Lucy replied.  “We’ve rescued a few kids from dysfunctional practitioner family dynamics already, how is it different?  They didn’t choose the family they were born into, sometimes the family teaches them incomplete or wrong things, or treats them like shit.”

“Be careful when speaking of what you don’t understand,” Grayson said, from the sidelines.  “I know of at least one case you and your lot did more disservice to them than their family did.”

“Really?  You really think that.” Lucy responded.  “Fucking- whatever.  No.  That’s a whole rabbit hole I’m not going down.  Point is, you got bad sponsors, Teddy.  I got sponsors that asked me to be guardian for a town that ended up the center of a long series of conflicts.  Some kids get parents that give them next to nothing except abuse and shitty expectations.”

“Some get loving, involved parents,” Mrs. Ferguson said, flashing a smile.  “Situations vary.”

“I would be interested in seeing a model of my daughter without your involvement pit against her now, here, in a serious fight,” Grayson said.

“Fuck off,” Lucy said.  “She’s clear of this jurisdiction anyway.  I think we’d need to see how things went in fields outside of knock-down, drag-out duels.”

“This is a sword moot,” Grayson replied.

“We’re getting badly sidetracked,” Ann said.  “Despite the fact the Hennigars have pressured my holdings in Thunder Bay, participating in Musser’s little Lordship takeover, I have no special grudge against them-”

“Not the time to suck up,” Lucy said, not loudly, but enough to be heard.

“-I have no interest in seeing their parenting or training abilities put to the test.  That’s a question for later, or for another sword moot, should we hold one.”

“Lords, Gods, and Spirits, spare me.”

Charles rumbled the words under his breath.  He sat on his throne, had his hand at one side of his face, elbow on armrest.

“What if we push for a duel right now, while we have the edge?  Seventy percent on our side?”

Kira-Lynn, whispering to Teddy, Harri leaning closer.

“It makes us stronger but it doesn’t make us better.  If it’s us against her and she can dodge anything we do with some faerie or fake fox bullcrap, then-” Teddy stopped himself, making eye contact with Lucy.

He reached into a pocket and pulled out a stick of chalk with a paper or plastic wrapper protecting most of its length..  He held it between two fingers, by his mouth.

What he said next wasn’t audible.

Ann was talking about procedure, “A last-in, first-out approach to resolution is the most elegant way to handle this, but we need strong leadership and involvement from the arbiter-”

Charles shifted position in his seat.

“And we must have a stopping point.  Perhaps every person speaks once and that is the limit of their involvement, and when nobody is left to speak, that is where we stop, beginning the process.  Then we resolve the process starting from the last points of contention, working our way back.  Except for the firm stopping point, that is functionally what we’re doing anyway.”

“Without some change to how we run this, we’re running the risk this goes on for days,” Deb said.

Charles shifted position, making a low groaning sound as he stretched.  “No.”

“Do you disagree?” Deb asked.

“It’s our right to hold this moot, it’s not your right to say no,” Anthem said.  “It’s your responsibility.”

“You killed one of my mentors to have that responsibility,” Lucy said.

“He chose to fight.  No, we won’t play those games.  I am in my rights to say we should speed things along.  We have spent two hours on one argument, if we include the time spent with the duel to decide how duels will work.  We’re getting lost in the academic.  Shall we put this to the test, with a duel?”

“Not without resolving the screwed up polling you did,” Lucy said.

“Do you concede your side?  You need not fight. I can choose contestants for either side of the duel, this time.”

“And choose one of your Lords for one side and the least goblin Cherrypop for the other?” Lucy asked.

Lucy’s earring caught a small cheer from the shore that was probably Cherrypop.

“My method for selection is yet to be determined.”

“We nominate our people.  Same as before.  Try to pull any games, I’m in my rights, by the Seal, to challenge it.  I’ve played at being Carmine before, I’m willing to challenge you, take your spot, and turn any games around on you.”

“If my role is so unimportant that things are decided without my arbitration, then I could technically relieve myself of my duties here.”

“It’s your job,” Anthem repeated.  “Your responsibility.  By the Seal, by the throne you occupy.  I disagree.”

“We disagree,” Grayson said.  “I don’t agree with that side on much.  But you sit in that throne and you manage this, and you manage it fairly.”

“Sit, dog,” Ann said.

Charles, sitting, put his hand to one side of his face again, elbow on the armrest.  His voice a growl, he said, “Let’s speed this along.  Teddy, you speak for your side.  Where do you stand?”

“I disagree with practitioner Ellingson’s stance.  What she’s doing is gross.  Any new practitioner or practitioner group will get stomped out by this new moot group, new Others, even, I bet.”

“The issue isn’t that you’re new,” Lucy cut in.

“Let him finish,” Charles interrupted her.  “You may want to tie my hands with procedure, but I will dock you karma here.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes.

“It’s a toxic dynamic.  It enforces the might of the majority,” Teddy said.  “That does ugly things, if it runs long enough.  It’s against everything my group is doing and pushing out of this region.”

“Done?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not that you’re new, it’s that you’re assholes.  New practitioners and Others pop up all the time, many of them get into cool niches- I don’t think this region really had a proper Path runner or anything before Avery Kelly.  The closest we had to one was Marlen Roy?  The tranisent?  And that opens doors, it lets us innovate.  New is good, fresh blood is good.”

Teddy raised a hand.

“Not done,” Lucy said.  “You’re assholes.  The reason so many are against you is you raided several major families, one of them noncombatant, you went after children, you’re pushing toxic dynamics, and you’re playing around in gray areas, you’re mucking around with this best-of-both-worlds Innocent Awakening bullshit.  I could have taken another path if I wanted to punish you. We’re holding you accountable.”

Teddy raised his hand again.

“Speak,” Charles said.

“You’re bullying us with numbers, and you are punishing us.  Like I said before, if we’re led to believe one thing is okay and then stuff gets changed and we get screwed because of that, that’s not fair.  That’s like having a new law about driving without sunglasses on sunny days, and then immediately giving hundreds of thousands of dollars in fines to drivers who’ve spent years driving without.”

“The law about being held to your word isn’t new,” Ann said.  “You thought you found a loophole and we are now saying no, that wasn’t lawful.”

“We didn’t think anything!”

“Then true sanctions should fall on the Judges who enabled it,” Lucy said.

“Oh!” Mrs. Ferguson exclaimed.  “I do like that.”

“If Teddy Kilburn and the rest of this assembly is in clear agreement on that, it seems cut and dry,” Anthem said.  “Perhaps some restitution paid to the majority here is in order.”

“How does that work?” Mr. Mele asked.  “I’m not familiar with your Judges.”

“Then why are you here?” Kira-Lynn asked.

“Judges are beings of law, their karma is an extension of their being and personal reserves,” Ann said.  “He’d spend from his pool of power.”

Which is already in a bad spot with you owing the new Alabaster, Lucy thought.

Charles chuckled, a low sound in his throat.  “You-”

“I wasn’t done,” Lucy said.  She knew she was distracting from the part where they sanctioned Charles.  But there was a chance she could provoke something.  That counted for more – they could go back to the other argument later, hold this over his head for a bit.

“You were done enough.”

“I wasn’t done making my argument.  Teddy raised his hand to interject, you allowed it, but I wasn’t done.  We’re each putting our side forward.”

“You spent twice as long on initial arguments as he did.”

“Establish that beforehand,” Lucy said.  “I have more to say.”

Charles looked annoyed.  She was provoking him some, and this entire situation was something he hated, with people he hated, and that was a whole thing.  But what was he going to do?  Raise an army of bloody soldiers, sic a bunch of twisted kids he’d arranged to teach practice to on her?  Drive her out of her home?

She took his silence for assent, and started speaking again, “the things the St. Victor’s practitioners are whining about are basic facts of life.  Don’t act like an asshole, then complain about unfairness if the majority treats you like an asshole.  Sometimes your mentors or families suck.  I’m not saying that’s great, I sort of see an ideal world as being all power going equally and evenly to anyone who agrees to take on responsibilities as custodians of aras, wardens against evil, cooperating with Others- opportunities going out equally too, no more families…”

There were raised voices of protest from multiple corners.  Criticizing the idea, or defending themselves against some perceived attack.

“I’m saying that’s my opinion, maybe an ideal end-state-” she protested, but she was drowned out.

Teddy raised a hand.

“Enough,” Charles said, “On penalty of lost karma for interrupting…”

Things quieted.

“Teddy,” Charles said.

Teddy said, “Let’s pretend for a moment that you’re benevolent, Ellingson.  Let’s say you’re the best, you’re right, you’re enforcing good laws.  Let’s say you’ve set up some ideal situation.  Bullshit on that, I don’t think that’s you, but let’s pretend.”

Lucy dipped her head in a single nod, arms folded.

“What happens after?  What happens further down the road, when outsiders crash your little utopia?  What happens if you set up this council and you say oh, la dee dah, we’re so fair, we’re only punishing bad guys with our majority rule.  But then shit happens, like shit always does, and everything you’re doing right here gets twisted around against you?  What if it gets turned into something ugly and all of a sudden yeah, it’s the new guys on the block getting shit on again?”

“I actually agree with you about most of that.  But where we disagree is I’m saying it takes vigilance,” Lucy said.  “Anything we do, it runs the risk of being twisted around.  The Seal itself, I’d argue, it’s that.  We’re in the fucking middle of that.  It takes good people paying attention and trying to be fair, and, I dunno, we deal with Others, some of whom are immortal, so let’s support the ones who are supporting the right ideas, in hopes they carry that forward.  The whole deal with practice is that we practice, we put patterns out there and if they’re played out long enough they become part of the fabric of things.  Establishment.  So let’s establish being cool.  Same idea as rules of hospitality, I don’t think anyone bitches about that.”

“You’d be surprised,” Anthem said, “But some people bitch about anything.  It’s widely accepted as a good rule.”

“Thank you,” Lucy said.  She refocused on Teddy.  “The way I see it, there’s really no workable alternative.”

“Our side was in the middle of the workable alternative,” Teddy said.  “Telling practitioners to fuck off, area’s emptying of all the problematic stuff?  Then build something new and better after.”

“Well, Teddy,” Anthem said.  “The practitioners your side told to fuck off are back, and speaking for one of them, they’re saying fuck you back, metaphorically.”

“And literally,” America chimed in.  “Fuck you, Tedsy.”

“We’re not even being that vicious in our ‘fuck you’,” Lucy said, making eye contact with the St. Victor’s kids, finding the ones who were most irritable.  She settled on Kira-Lynn.  “The Carmine wants to hurry this along?  I think this is my final proposal, unless Teddy wants to argue another line or something.  You guys want to be Awakened?  You have to commit.  No bitching out, no cheating, no half-assing it-”

“I’m committed to kicking your ass, half-ass bitch,” Kira-Lynn jumped in.  “This bullshit with sanctions and coming after us, you’re trying to ruin our relationship with our patrons.  Punishing them for working with us.”

“That’s an interruption,” Lucy commented.  Yeah.  That was what she’d wanted.  “By the rule you used against me, Carmine…”

“Yes,” Charles said, waving a hand.  “Move on.”

“I want the karma taken from her and restored to me.”

“Move on.”

“Treat this process fairly, or I’ll challenge it, I’ll give more sanctions-”

“You have your karma.  Fuck me,” Charles growled.  “Move on now.  Or I’ll say you’re done.  I’m in my rights to do it.”

Lucy found her center, standing taller.  “-I want Joshua pulled back, given memories, if he needs to be gainsaid or forsworn, or if there’s more involved, or if karma is owed, it should be paid by the people who made him.  That’s established.”

“Joshua abandoned his practice and everything about it by Lawful procedure, agreed on by many judges.  To go back on that would be more trouble than it’s worth,” Charles replied.  “It violates the deal made between Judge and practitioner, and that is a thing that sits very close to the Seal.”

“Then we’re back to sanctions, heavy ones” Ann said.  “Let the cost of going back on it fall on the shoulders of participating Judges.”

“There’s no need,” Charles rumbled.

“Disagree,” Ann replied.

“Many of us may disagree,” Anthem added.

“Thirded,” Grayson said.

“There is no need because there are other ways of resolving this.”

“Disagree,” Ann repeated.

“I think the majority here deems the way they were awakened improper, then Carmine, Aurum, and Sable should pay the price and the karma paid out as part of that price should be given out to everyone affected, or to everyone else in the region,” Lucy said.

“You have a different view of the majority than I do,” Charles replied.

“Want to put it on the docket?” Lucy asked.  “Want to stack all this stuff up, then we see if your made-up people count for anything?”

“Teddy Kilburn?  Final argument?  Lucy made hers,” Charles said.

“It’s poison,” Teddy replied.  “What you’re doing is poisonous.  The Seal is poison, the way you’re using your supposed majority to crush others is poison.  Turning things back on us after the fact is poison.  We wouldn’t have done what we did if we thought this would happen.”

“You horrified kids,” Raquel interjected.

“That’s an interruption,” Charles said.  “Quiet.”

“You wouldn’t have done what you did if you knew you might have to pay for it?  That’s validating Lucy’s argument.  I’ve seen and spent time with the Belangers, I go back and forth.  I’ve seen the damage you did.”

“Cease,” Charles said.

“For kicks?  No.  If you haven’t picked up that you shouldn’t do that sort of horrible, selfish thing, shouldn’t steal, shouldn’t attack others, in the first fifteen or whatever years of your life?  You shouldn’t have the practice.”

Charles moved a hand, and the air changed.

Raquel turned to him, her lips moving.  No sound came out.

“Enough,” Charles said.  “You’ll pay a threefold karmic penalty for the interruption.”

Raquel nodded.

Worth it? Lucy thought.

“They’re practitioner families, they have enough already, they hoard power, they keep things secret, don’t act like a raid is the worst thing in the world.  Equalizing power,” Teddy said.

“You horrified a kid,” Lucy said.

“One of us did.  She’s not here now.  Draw your own conclusions about that.  You want to put rules on us from now on?  I disagree, but whatever, sure, that can happen.  But we were playing the game as it was presented to us.”

“They were playing the game as it was presented to them,” Charles said.

“Then the problem is with the un-Lawful presentation,” Ann replied.

“Let’s draw this argument to a close,” Charles said.  “Final statements made.  There is no agreement, it seems?”

Lucy shook her head.

“Are both sides prepared to duel, then?  To choose champions?”

“Can we choose a Lord?” Teddy asked.

“You may.  They may not agree.”

The St. Victor’s practitioners huddled.  The two mentors listened in.

Creepy as shit.

“Rook, can we ask you something?”

“You may.”

“They’re probably going to send-“

The message was cut off as Teddy put chalk by his mouth.

“Miss, Miss, Miss,” Lucy whispered.

“What is it?” Miss asked.

She’d appeared at the far side of that crowd of silhouettes.

“I know you’re locked to Kennet found, but you tend to have a pretty good sense of what’s going on, who’s going where, how to deflect…”

“It’s a skill I’ve cultivated by necessity.  I could not hold onto many things, I cannot confront directly.”

“Well, this is direct confrontation.  What Lord or teacher do they send against Anthem?  That Parity thing, that Verona helped make?”

“Charles,” Guilherme raised his voice.  “Do not stand by the sidelines of that group if you’re going to allow them to note small changes in your body language.”

“I intended nothing,” Charles replied.

“Yet you allowed a great deal.  You are many things, Charles, but restrained is not one.  You have tells, and your students are picking up on them.  If you consult them in this matter, even subtly, you tie yourself to the outcome.”

“I’ll take my leave while you prepare your champions, then.  There is another goblin event I can oversee.”

Charles disappeared.

“If they’re anticipating me going, or me sending Anthem, who do they pick to counter?  What kind of Lord would they have used to counter Anthem?”

“I wonder,” Anthem said.

“Daddy’s pretty tough,” Liberty said.  “It’s hard to beat daddy.”

“Even if he’s made to fight himself?” Lucy asked.  “With the Parity thing?”

“I could beat myself,” Anthem replied.

“Huh.  That was a trap for Musser anyway,” Lucy mused.

“You don’t beat him,” Miss said.  “You make it so it’s never a fight to begin with.”

“Who, then?”

“The Ordinary Family.”

“They’re not combat Others.”

“I don’t think the rules mandate that they are combat Others.  They only ask for defeat.”

“As much as there are rules,” Lucy murmured.

It took a bit before Charles returned.  He appeared, walked over, and sat at his throne.  “The goblin contest is done, there is a new king of the small offshoot market, inspired by Toadswallow’s work in Kennet.  I’m guessing that in thirty minutes there’ll be another attempt at the same short-lived seat.”

Lucy wrote the name down on a spell card.  “We reveal at the same time?”

Rook put a hand at Teddy’s shoulder.   She leaned in between him and Kira-Lynn.

“If she wants to do it this way, it’s not as simple as her choosing their strongest.”

“Well, what then?  Do we change-?”

Kira-Lynn’s voice was cut off as Teddy held a hand up, his back to Rook and Kira-Lynn, head tilted, chalk held parallel to his fingers.

“They chose, I chose, let’s just do it,” Lucy said.  “They shouldn’t change their mind now.”

“There is a great deal at stake, they can choose as they wish.  You can change your answer if you want.”

Lucy considered, then shook her head.

“Fuck,” Teddy said.  He stepped forward.  “We decided, I don’t need to write it down if I decide ahead of time and commit to that, right?”

There were a few overlapping voices pointing out the obvious.

“I decide now, I have a name in my head, that’s what I’ll say,” Teddy said.

The protests died down.

“Ann Wint,” Lucy said.

“Ordinary Family.”

“Ann?” Charles asked.

“No objection,” Ann said, smiling.  “Except we must interrogate this issue with your lopsided scales.”

“I move again for the diagnostics of the new denizen’s Self,” Mele commented.  “If that is my sole contribution to the entirety of these proceedings, I’m satisfied.  Let’s say three independent students of Self.  Myself, one chosen by you, one neutral to be swayed one way or the other.”

“Or, to move things along, I withdraw the denizens,” Charles said.

“You’re admitting to fucking around?” Lucy asked.

“I withdraw them, on the condition of you all shutting up and getting on with this,” Charles said, sounding annoyed.

Because you know they wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny.  They haven’t matured.

The proportions changed.  It was closer to maybe a forty to sixty percent, on Ann’s side.  Probably still fudged.

“To tie a quick bow on this,” Lucy said.  “For our side, we’ve nominated Ann Wint.  We wish to secure rules for Awakening.  We agree to abide by a rule where we no longer awaken our children, peers, or students before puberty, as defined by the appearance of half of the things on a typical list, or fourteen years of age, whichever comes second…”

She’d really wanted something slightly older, but this was what the mob had agreed to.

“…No adulteration or hormone treatments to speed things along.  This is not retroactive, it doesn’t count backwards, but carries forward from now on, and anyone disadvantaged by this and postponing their original plans will receive a nominal token of karma…”

Ann looked a little dissatisfied with that, but that was what they’d hammered out after some debate.

“…If those signed onto this agreement interact with an individual below adulthood who is vulnerable and from outside the sword moot or another region, or who awakens by accident, we agree to take no predatory action or attempts to capitalize on their inexperience or youth.  They should be left alone, except where it preserves safety, security, and sanity.  Any mentorship of these people is open, announced to others, and these kids get multiple teachers from multiple unaffiliated, non-hostile, non-predatory groups, on penalty of karmic loss to whoever refers them, karmic gain if the kid comes out of it better.  Basically, any kid stumbles into magic or wanders into the region, we agree to teach them, hand them off to good people, we don’t bring them straight into our families and keep them there to have some kid we can mold…”

Tricky and iffy but eh.

“…and finally, regarding this duel, Awakening is secured by the Seal, partial Awakenings, Awakenings by accident, and any weird Aware-becomes-Awakened situations should be translated to a proper Awakening with all the usual roles and responsibilities at the earliest measure.  And yeah, that includes the St. Victor’s kids.  Retroactive.  All of this is subject to change in future moots or changes in Law of equal or greater organization than this, we need vigilance and good people to keep the good parts good and keep the bad out.”

Kira-Lynn shook her head.

“Jesus Christ,” Teddy said.  “You keep all that straight in your head?”

“I have a good head for it,” Lucy replied.

“You done?” Charles asked.

“No.  In the interest of involving Others in this process, I would invite several Others to give their blessings to this agreement.  Immortal, with experience in war.  Guilherme?”

“Gladly,” Guilherme said.  She hadn’t asked beforehand, which was a bitch move, maybe, but it was the culmination of a feeling that had haunted her through this.  The Others weren’t involved enough.  “I agree with the principles and will support them with my continued long life.  I volunteer myself as a teacher, shrewd, uncompromising, but with no ill-intent, should there be a need.  Until this point of Law changes, I am willing to argue for it, defend it, and offer that vigilance.”

Grandfather clapped a hand on Lucy’s shoulder.  She nodded.

“I go by the name Grandfather.  Dog Tag.  I and my squad…?”

He made it a question.  Others in the group nodded.

“We offer our support, we’re mostly immortal.  We agree to defend this idea, to support it, until the Law changes.  I don’t have as many fancy words, don’t know if we can be good mentors, but fuck… let’s have less children fighting.”

Others chimed in.

Lucy looked at Charles.  You know that kind of consensus and commitment counts for something.

“Tell me what I’m fighting,” Ann murmured.

“I have no fucking idea.  But warding’s worked on it so far, and you’re apparently a really good Warden, you can handle most things?  And I figured if they didn’t get sneaky, and sent someone strong, you could handle yourself.”

“I am, I can, and I can handle myself.”

“Protect yourself first.  It’s a pretty strong effect, turning you into something else,” Lucy said.  “This is going to be a lot.”

“I have powers I can call on once a year or every few years.”

“I think you’ll be glad if you do,” Lucy replied.

“For a point of law I’m not that interested in, though?” Ann asked.

“To tell the Carmine to go fuck himself, and for the respect.”

Ann considered.  Then nodded.  “Don’t think you’re playing me.”

“No trickery.  I one hundred percent believe you’ll come out of this ahead.  Show off your stuff.”

“I like you a little better than I liked the other two,” Ann said.

Lucy nodded.  “A little part of that is the respect I got, right?”

“More than a little.  I see your point.  I need to prepare.”

Lucy nodded.

“Teddy?”

“What the fuck am I supposed to say in response to all that?  No.  No age limits, no locking stuff away, no forcing our hands?  I made my argument.  No to what she says.  We win, we’re free and clear to keep going like we have been.  I’ll call on Others too.  Lords.”

“The Others I named are long-lived or immortal and experienced in war,” Lucy said.  “Your Lords are babies, comparatively.”

“Your Dogs of War are babies,” Teddy retorted.

“With an entire war of experiences filtered into them.”

“What about Edith, Maricica?” Teddy asked Charles.

“He doesn’t get to have input, or he attaches himself to the outcome,” Lucy said.  “You lose, he loses something.”

“Fuck off,” Teddy said.

“He hinted, in tells,” Guilherme said.  “That they aren’t available.  They’re tied up elsewhere.”

“I’ll call on Lords to back me anyway, then,” Teddy said.

What the hell are they doing?  Lucy thought.

Verona raced along the road, chasing traffic.  Cars stirred wind in their wake, and she rode those stirs, moving a little faster that way than she would have with wind alone.

She’d had one bad fall, dropping out of the air and into snow, when wind and car exhaust was not conducive to glamour, but she’d picked herself up, swigged a healing potion, and she’d set out again, using goblin glamour this time.

The phone sound stirred in the wind, and she plummeted.  As she was halfway between being elemental wind and being Verona, her hair and clothes were long and flapped in the breeze- long striped sweater sleeves and coat sleeves trailing behind her.  She manipulated wind on her way down and created a bit of a cushion to slow the last ten feet or so of falling.

She landed in snow, kneeling.  Hair, coat, and sleeves retreated.

She answered the phone.

“Avery!”

“Done with Thunder Bay.”

“Dude, Avery, I set up this whole thing with glamour and my phone, carrying the sound of the ringtone and lack of ringtone into the glamour I painted around myself, and I managed to keep that intact while I was wind.”

“Okay?  That sounds cool?” Avery asked, unsure.

“This was craft, Ave.  I’ve talked to you about the distinction between craft and practice, right?  This was craft.  This was what I’m after.  When it becomes more art than science.”

“Fantastic,” Avery said.  “I’m not sure I get it, but fantastic.”

“It’s the sorceress goal, you know?  I want to feel like I have craft in a bunch of different practices, and I feel like I got there with glamour today.”

“I don’t know how you do it, Verona, I’ve mainly got the one practice and I don’t think I’m at that level of craft with it yet.”

“You’re getting there.  I think you’re probably doing a lot of intuitive stuff with Paths, and you don’t even realize it.  Key is mindfulness, like I’ve been learning with stuff that helps me stay on track with school.”

“Mindfulness, huh?  I was thinking more of like, hmmm, instinct.  Being in the zone.”

“But like, on default.  I’ve talked about the art zone.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s easier with glamour.  Certain practices listen better,” Verona explained.  “Anyway, that’s my cool thing.  I’ll show you later.”

“Are you managing okay?”

“I’m sorta bored, which is weird when we’re doing something that’s objectively important and intense, you know?”

“I know.”

“So it’s dull, aside from some, I dunno, the wind equivalent of doing ollies on a skateboard.  And spying on people in traffic.  I saw a guy driving a truck, putting something up his butt, jacking off, and using his knee to steer.  Wild.”

“Geez, Ronnie.  I didn’t need that mental picture.”

“I wish I was that coordinated.  That’s gotta be years of experience.”

“Don’t spy on people, okay?”

“I mean, if you’re going to be going at yourself hardcore in public, being a hazard while driving, I think you lose some privacy rights.”

“How are you doing with your objective?” Avery asked.

Probably trying to change the subject.  Coward.

“Working on it,” Verona reported.

“Can we regroup soon?  Want to do the big one?  We circle the entire damn province now that he’s weaker?”

Was that the plan?

Oh, right.  It was code.  In case they were being listened to.

“Not ready yet.  Still working on this.”

“Makes sense.  There’s an awful lot of these assholes.  There were so many in and around Thunder Bay.”

“Yeah?” Verona asked.  “I’ve seen a lot, but like… makes sense, considering it was a middle-sized city.”

She didn’t want to let on that she was around Toronto.  She’d done other cities and towns on the way.

But there were a lot around Toronto.

“I feel like they’re trying to flip the entire province.  Undercity every last bit of it.”

“Yeah?  Makes sense, if you go by weird Chuck logic,” Verona replied.

“Call me when you’re done?  I’ve got some info, we should regroup, figure out how we do this.”

“I’ll be a bit longer, got a few more to do,” Verona said.  A few more stretches, a few more dozens of kilometers.  She didn’t want to give away info.  “I’ll call, we’ll portion out the last few, then we take the province?”

“Okay.  I’m hitting some smaller markets.  They’ve only had maybe three to five people each.  These guys are immortal, Ronnie.  They come back five or more times, more bogeyman each time.  I think that’s what they set up in Maricica’s churches.”

“Good to know.  Look, I’m going to go.  This is taking a while, even if I’m getting better at it.  I’ll keep an ear out for your phone call, with the really cool twist of glamour stuff I worked out.  Eyyy.”

“Okay, Verona.  That’s great.  Love it.  Good work.”

“Woo!” Verona whooped, before hanging up.

She wished Julette was around, to be psyched with her.  So much of this was a grind, figuring out something like this felt good.  Using glamour, barely even thinking about it.

She used her Sight and looked at the nearest tree.  The long, crooked meat thing inside the shroud of gauzy bark loomed there, mouth open, sleepy.

“Worked out a glamour thing without even trying, yayyyy,” she told it, mimicking its movements, waving her arms like it moved its branches in wind.

It moved in concert with her.

“Yayyyy,” Verona told it, moving more, doing a little wobbly dance on the spot.  It moved a bit more.  Mouth opened a bit.  Verona gave it a high-five on a low branch.  “Thanks for playing along, buddy.  Do me a favor, help me track the wind as I get underway?”

It didn’t really respond, but it did move in response to the wind.

She sang her ring-tone, and then manipulated glamour to refine the sound.  She formed a string in the process, then lashed that to her cell phone, creating a loop that she then spun around herself, until she had noise and symbolic noise whirling in a halo around herself, like the rings around Saturn.

She began to fashion a guise of wind again, borrowing the tree’s guidance as it waved and indicated the movements of wind, painting the voids between, then letting glamour blossom out.  All the while, every movement had to work with the halo of ringtone- half silent, half ringing, ready to be one or the other with a quick shift that cooperated with the rest of what she was becoming.

Her hand threatened to cramp, but her other hand was sore too, with the fine and continuous movements of fingers and wrist required.

She lifted herself up, and danced around the meaty tree spirit thing as she became more and more airy.

Then she was wind, and she set about conquering Toronto, flying past a whole procession of Maricica’s people in cars, with them none the wiser.

Lucy watched as Ann drew a sword out of her coat, which didn’t have the space for a sword, and then plunged it into the ground in front of her.  It was polished, but the polish and sharpening was over top of deep pits and damage, like it had rusted and the rust had been scoured away.  It vibrated, and then echoes began to appear.

Ann gripped the handle of the sword, and the echoes immediately consolidated, forming into a general sphere around her, interconnecting, tattered edges knitting to tattered edges, blending together.  Ann’s hair and coat stirred.

She pulled the sword out of the stage, hand gripping it like she would normally, if she was holding it in front of her, but with the handle the other way around, point down, not up.  It shook as if she was trying to hold it steady in a hurricane.

The Ordinary Family had moved into the arena.  The scene inside changed, distorting and expanding.  It looked like an image seen through a fishbowl, crammed in there, a whole neighborhood inside an arena twenty paces across, everything at the edges made small.

“What goes down may boil back up,” Ann announced.  “Even the fallen, if they’re hard enough.”

Liberty and America made sounds to the side.  Anthem gave them looks, and they fell silent.

“What is lost, can be remembered evermore.  Every one of us here, we persist, and we are borne of persistence.  We each come from a long line of those who survived long enough.  From those who persisted, screaming their rage in the face of Death, adapting, changing, fighting… Abyss.  For those moments and souls we’ve left behind, for those engines that affix that past to present to future… Ruin.  There is nothing else.”

So surrounded by echoes that she was barely visible inside, a silhouette that looked echo-ish in itself, she stepped past the threshold.  The fishbowl effect centered around Ann, entering that neighborhood.

The effect pressed in.  Echoes folded and failed, and died, and became wisps of smoke.  The bubble of echoes around her compressed.

People came out of houses, gathering outside.  Some gathered in the middle of the street opposite Ann.

The pressure increased.

“You have nothing I want,” Ann said.

She did something, and two massive wraiths freed themselves.  One plunged into the nearest house, driving its way past the residents on the porch.  The other orbited Ann, supporting the bubble.

“It’s a forgone conclusion,” Charles said.  “It was from the start.”

Ann gestured, and chains stabbed their way out, hooks catching and barbed harpoon-like spears catching on people, little boys, girls, a dog, a baby, a house, a piece of porch, a car, a lawn decoration.

She dropped her hand, and the chains retracted several feet.  Flesh tore, things broke, and the entire bubble shifted.

A little girl had her face and part of her shoulder torn off by a single hook.  She staggered, then as flesh came free and the hook reeled its way back in to Ann, the girl straightened.  A corpse of an adult human was contorted, curled up and packed inside the outer shell the very small girl.  A milky white eye in the corpse lined up with the eye of the girl.

The girl turned, burying her face and hiding everything by hugging her front to her mother.

A woman lost her swaddled baby boy, harpoon barbs and attached chain dragging him out of her arms.  She scrambled forward, trying to pull him free and fight the length of metal that dragged on the street.  She couldn’t keep up, and sprawled on slushy road, wailing.  Her hand reached out.

Thread of the boy’s swaddle was attached to the mother’s hand.  As it pulled, there was a brief moment where she was fighting against the pull of the chain, a single string between her finger, the one hand curled up, the other hand holding it steady, the other end of that string attached to the blanket around the boy that was speared on the harpoon.

She pulled, and Ann stumbled a few steps forward, hurrying to grab the sword she’d planted in the road.  She planted it in again, crouching.

Others started moving.  They grabbed onto chains and metal, and they started pulling, like it was family fun day and they were playing tug of war.  All of them against Ann.

The wraith that had crashed into the house crashed into them.  Knocking them off their feet.

“We adapt, we change, we hone our weapons,” Ann announced.  She put a hand into her coat, and touched something to the metal.

The black metal loops became black metal loops, each with a blade-like spike sticking out either side.  The blades sprouted, starting from Ann’s side, and going link by link, maybe ten or twenty a second.

Stabbing hands.

“You had a chance, as I stepped across the threshold,” Ann said.  She gestured, and the chain yanked.

The woman with the thread attached to her finger stumbled, lost the angle she was trying to preserve, and like some horrendous hangnail, a line opened up in her flesh, unzipping it in the same way a sweater could unravel, traveling a wild path around her finger, then her hand, and then her arm.  A human ribcage with crimson, living flesh within, and a layer of blackened, dessicated flesh around that, unfurled from her forearm, as the skin that had been keeping it all packed and folded in came away.  The string split and had parts bulge out of it like it was a marshmallow in the microwave, spine and fat and other parts bulging out of it.  The baby boy was two skulls in close proximity, spines intertwining in a double helix.

Ann began to pull it all apart.  So the remainder of them came at Ann as mob.

“You should decide, students,” Charles said.  “Will you commit?”

“There’s no chance?”

It was Kira-Lynn asking.

“Not one worth talking about.”

“I’m out then.”

One of the boys.  The one with hair parted in the middle, bits at the corners of his forehead curling in to point toward the center.  Stefan.

“Don’t fucking chicken out on us.  You talked to Yiyun, you decided to tell her to screw off, but you chicken out now?”

“What are we getting, what are we doing?  I don’t want to be enemies with something like that.  Not when we’re getting less or fighting against more.  I’m out.”

“God, you’re such a shit.  You were stupid, you fucked up with the goddamn video game technomancy Other, you were lazy, and you’re a coward on top of that?”

“That’s the other reason I’m not staying.”

“Kira-Lynn?  Let him go.”

“Harri?  I know you hate this.”

“I feel like if I run, my mentor is going to horrify me.  It doesn’t matter if I’ve forgotten everything.”

“I cannot explicitly say that she won’t.”

Ann was saying names, holding up an antique trowel with a glossy black handle.

A bogeyman emerged behind her, blurry like she was, with the wreath of echoes around her.  He reached forward, past her, and grabbed the hand with the spade, taking it.  He stepped free of the echoes, and paused, feeling the pressure from the place.

But as Ann sent out more chains, the Ordinary Family weakened.  The bogeyman straightened, the dark staining around him swirling.

He killed a man with the trowel.

“We’re still getting more recruits than we’re losing, even with Nomi, Joseph, and Stefan.  We’re still okay.”

Lucy watched Stefan say that.  He wasn’t covering his mouth or silencing himself.  Maybe he was trying to tell Lucy that.

With this, we buy an age limit, Lucy thought.  And protection for kids who stumble onto practice.  The St. Victor kids lose their trump card.

We tie Charles up for a bit longer.

Her stomach growled.  She wished she’d eaten that donut earlier.

But it didn’t matter.  She was prepared to go for the full day if she had to.

Avery finished black-roping her way around Kitchener.  She checked her phone, got water, double-checked the coast was clear, and then she dressed herself and Snowdrop up in a bird form.  Flying toward Verona.

It was fifteen minutes of flying alongside Snowdrop.  Avery as a falcon, Snowdrop as a seagull.  Avery was faster, especially when she swooped, but she could double back a bit, and she could cover enough ground to count the forces Maricica was gathering.

She’d started southwest of Kitchener and now she flew southeast of it.  Verona was at a nearby city, and was supposed to meet her here.  It was a tri-city whatever, Kitchener, Waterloo, and Cambridge.  Verona was coming in from Guelph, the next city over.

Avery was a little faster as a bird who didn’t need to worry about bends in the road.  She did need to worry about men with guns, and there were some by most of the roads in and out of the three cities.

She was three-quarters of the way around when she felt the wind around her, ruffling feathers, tweaking a tail feather.  Snowdrop squawked.

She kept going.  Finishing the loop.  The wind moved away, then rejoined her.

Avery descended, plunging.  The wind swirled around her.

She landed, shucking off glamour.  Verona did the same, landing at an angle, stumping forward through snow on winter boots, hand out.

Avery gave her a high-five, panting for breath.

“Whoo!” Verona whooped.

“Aaaaa!” Snowdrop shouted.

“Whoo-aaa!” Avery tried, as a compromise between the two.  Verona laughed.  Avery added, “You and your damn high-fives.”

“You gotta explain that to me.”

“After,” Avery said.  She turned her head.

A woman wearing blue stood by the edge of the city, hands in pockets, long black hair.

“Hello!” Avery raised her voice.

The woman glanced at her.

“We haven’t talked.  Is this okay?”

The woman nodded.

“You’re the Azure Lady?  From the region south of here?”

“I am.”

“You made the deal with the Aurum too?”

“He portrayed himself as incapable.  It seemed necessary.”

“Huh.  He’s playing games, you know?  Forfeiting territory to run from those who’d seek audience with him.”

“It seems to me that makes him incapable.”

“Valid,” Verona chimed in.

Then the woman was gone.

“Not very social,” Verona said.  “Not that I’m complaining.  We waste too much time on being polite.”

“Enh,” Avery grunted.  “So this is it?  We take the province?”

“Yeah.  You’re on board with that?  Cool.”

Or, in other words, you get what I’m referring to, Avery thought.

“You given it any thought?  The Aurum Coil.  Coiled,” Avery mentioned, again.

“I hear ya.  This… it doesn’t feel like an oversight.  Like he planned a way to avoid us, they set up guards… part of that is that these assholes are everywhere.  Disciples of the Church of Bloody Glory.”

“Yeah,” Avery agreed.

“But if we really had him and his centipede by the nutsacks, I feel like he would’ve been, like, panicking more.”

“Yeah.”

“Centipedes do have nutsacks,” Snowdrop said.  “Not that I’m in a position to know.”

“If we’re taking the province, then what are we expecting?” Avery asked.

“Hate to say it, but I think we should rely less on glamour.”

“Hmm.  Yeah.  That’s more you than me.”

“I could do something with-”

“Wait,” Avery said.  “Exult Wrought seemed cool, cut us enough slack and gave us enough info I don’t think things are screwy.  But we don’t know about this one.”

“The Judge here?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Verona said.  “We taking a Path as a shortcut?”

Avery nodded.

Safer to talk there.  She’d picked a landing spot near a property with no cars on it, but with tracks in the snow of the driveway.  People not home.  She led Verona over, and doors banged into existence.

“Zoomtown for the second time today,” Avery observed.

“Is that a problem?”

“Gets more difficult on every visit, but we’re not really doing Zoomtown.  Just need the doors.”

She led Verona through.

The city below looked like venice, with no roads, but water, and boats drifting along the water in place of the cars.  A giant kraken waited on the horizon, splashing in the water there, ready to demolish and utterly annihilate anyone and anything that got swept along a speeding row of building into a tentacle’s grasp.

Coiled grasp.

“So what’s the trap?” Verona asked.

“I don’t know.  It’s too open-ended.”  She thought of the sports field.  “I guess- look at what we want, then look at them anticipating what we want.  What do they expect?”

“What do we want?” Verona asked.

“We do a loop around Kennet, we secure it from the Aurum.”

“Well, not exactly.  We, by the deal he struck, probably give it over to someone.  We don’t know the particulars, nobody can talk about particulars, so the deal could be tricky that way.”

Snowdrop became human, leaning over the edge to look down at boats.

“Have we had so many stops and detours that we’re basically not seeking audience with the Aurum anymore?” Avery asked.  “Maybe there’s no deal that lets us take Kennet, he specifically excluded it, because the Carmine Throne is there, and so we do a loop, risk our hides, and then it’s revealed there’s no way to claim it, and because we’ve gone all over the place and slipped into Paths and everything, we can’t seek audience, so… shot missed?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Verona said.

“Doesn’t it?”

“Because if that’s what he tries for, what we get to do is challenge him on that.”

“Right, right,” Avery agreed.  “And in challenging him, we lock him in place, we obscure his awareness of the outside, we contest him on the idea we made a good-faith attempt to get in contact, he fucked around…”

“Carry out the plan as normal,” Verona said.

Avery nodded.

“Still seems like we really took a chunk out of him,” Verona replied.  “We could call it quits here and call today a win, if Lucy’s managed okay.”

“That works,” Snowdrop said.

“What?” Avery asked.

“Works perfectly.  You’re in a position to tell Kennet to fuck off, not a priority.  I know this shit for sure, I’m an expert.”

“We did swear to be guardians of Kennet.  That makes it hard to abandon it.”

“They know we’ll want to claim it.”

“What if, hmmm.  What if he struck a deal with someone else, but that someone’s more problematic?  He gets to wash his hands of the Kennet issue, hand it off to some Aurum-ish monster, keep doing what he’s doing?” Avery asked.

“You took Thunder Bay, right?  Who was in charge there?”

“The representative was an Icon, religious vessel for a forge god, techno god type thing.”

“Does their reach extend to Kennet?”

“Might,” Avery said.  “He wasn’t talkative.  I didn’t get the impression he was on board with Charles though.”

“Ideal world, we do a loop around Kennet.  Someone that’s not cooperating with Charles takes over as Judge or something equivalent, now we’ve got one Judge cooperating, one neutral or resistant to Charles, two against.”

“Ideal world, yeah.”

“Which fucks Charles’ options,” Verona said, “Which gives us opportunities to go after Charles himself.  We’d be breaking even at that point.  If he tries forswearing us or gainsaying us in a bullshit way, we have two judges potentially agreeing, two against.  Add in our own arguments, scale tips in our favor.  If we go after Sable and take that, have three judges on our side, we should be more than breaking even.  We’ll have Charles in a corner.”

“Yeah.  Ideal world.”

“Other scenario, no closing the loop, the Aurum makes an appearance.  Maybe there’s a trap, but let’s say we sidestep it, he panics before we tie Kennet off, shows himself, and we get what we came for, before the shenanigans.”

“Audience with the Aurum,” Avery said.  “At which point one of us pins him down by asking him questions- even if it’s Snowdrop alone.  He has to stay and provide, then whoever’s not asking questions sets the stage, we send the signal.  Agents we’ve planted in markets and stores give their messages to each person or group in charge of those places.  Basically agreeing to have both the main market, if there’s an opportunity for one, and a rotating market, where each market gets a focus in a given season.  A chance to grow, show off, draw people in.”

“Which is a dynamic the Aurum won’t know about, that we can pass on to anyone going,” Verona said.  “Which disadvantages him in a big way.  Like the Sable not knowing who died, or the Carmine being unaware of a whole war that’s going on.  Anyone we support knows, they’re stronger.”

“So where is the trick?” Avery asked.

“Seems like a bad idea to use glamour against Maricica, so that’s us on foot,” Verona said.  “Can he have jurisdiction over us enough to gainsay or forswear us?”

“I don’t think so.  Not at the same time he’s refusing audience.”

“Right.  Makes sense.  The Sable could, though, right?”

“Maybe.  I mean, if they really wanted to, Maricica could show up and try gainsaying us.”

Verona wrinkled her nose.

“Maybe it’s the wrong question.  What’s the Aurum doing?” Avery asked.  “Running?”

“If he’s the kind of guy Exult described, then maybe that’s enough?” Verona suggested, shrugging.  “Survive today, fuck tomorrow?”

Avery mused.

“I don’t know,” Verona said.  “I’m wiped, I’m not a morning person, we started this morning, it’s now close to dinnertime, I-”

“Yeah.  Did you eat?”

“Snacked.  Kind of tricky with those assholes all over.”

“Right.”

“You?”

“Snacked, yeah.”

Verona nodded.

“I hope Lucy’s doing okay,” Avery said.  She paced a little.  “I feel like if we give up now, if we stop and call this good enough, the ball’s in their court.”

Verona held up a finger, got her bag, and reached inside.  Avery waited, watching, while Snowdrop, sitting on the edge of the building with feet dangling, twisted around to look.

Verona pulled out a sheet of paper, balled it up, and threw it at Avery’s head, where it bapped off the top.

“What?”

“Sports metaphor.  Doofus.”

“Barely.  Come on.”

Verona snorted.

“I’m serious though.  We had the chance to make a move, we made a partial one, we stop?  We don’t rescue Kennet?  We maybe get called out as bad guardians?  Maybe that’s a way we get cornered.”

Verona shrugged, stabbing her hands into her coat pockets.  She paced too, matching Avery.  “But if we do go, we know for a fact that if they’ve set a trap, they had to figure out that we’d go after Kennet.”

“We wanted to do it last because it had the lowest chance of screwing with Lucy, and same deal as the Musser thing, momentum helps.  He wasn’t wrong to choose the location of the Carmine throne as his final target.”

“But he did lose,” Verona pointed out.  “All I’m saying is if they have a trap waiting, it’s here.  He set up a game, this is the natural conclusion.  He offers us a chance to get territory and take it from him.  Sure seems to work.”

“Sure does.”

“And he’s not panicking.  Which to me says he anticipated this.  That we could figure it out and press on and try to exploit it.  Taking territory.”

“Yeah.”

“And the choicest, key piece of territory we can take is our hometown.  The place we swore to defend.”

“Which makes it the choicest, key place to lay a trap,” Avery said.  “Miss said the Stuck-in place had a way of viewing the outside.  It wasn’t the only place.  Trying to remember-”

She sat down, pulling out her bag.  She began digging through old notes and printouts.

She wished she’d been a little more focused on parts.  She’d started some pages of notes on Paths, then gotten distracted.

For valid reasons, being pulled away for family stuff, or practice-related emergencies.  This section- she’d been reading Books the Garricks had given her.  Back before the end of summer.  Before Charles had been Carmine.   A list.

Which was enough to spark her memory.

“Come on.”

“We know where we’re going?  Or what we’re doing?”

“Let’s go to where we can take a peek.”

Avery went back through the door, holding it open.  Verona followed, with Snowdrop scampering behind.  Snowdrop was in human form, but she could still move in a very scamper-y way.

Back to the outskirts of Cambridge, Ontario, where she’d reunited with Verona.  Backtracking to the shed she’d walked by earlier.

Onto Myway Highway, which they were barely on for five seconds before they took the detour into Harm’s Way, a hallway with axes, dart traps, and other hazards poised to murder anyone walking down it in fifty different ways.

The hidden means of dying were worse.  Spiders on surfaces that looked safe, with lethal bites.

Then, at the side of Harm’s way, a train track.

From there, onto the Promenade.

“We couldn’t have taken another way?  Or done the Promenade directly?”

“I don’t have the stuff,” Avery admitted.

“A lot of this stuff is pretty intense.”

“It’s cool, when you get used to it.  Come on.”

“You getting cool boons, at least?”

“Only a few.  Most of the time, instead of going from A to Z, I start at M and go to P, before opening a door or taking a detour.  Or I start at V, do W, X, Y, and Z, finish out the Path.”

“Huh.”

“Did one earlier.  Gives me spare change when I earn coins.  Like with that travel package.”

“Huh.  Free money?”

“In random currencies, but there’s a very small chance I get something special.”

“Or blessed,” Snowdrop said.

“That too.”

“Huh.  That sounds like a bit of a pain.”

“It’s okay,” Avery said.  “I can add something to the bracelet to suppress it.”

They navigated the path, and then walked over to the railing, near where the closest of the halos was, catwalks leading to where Avery had seen the constructions.

Avery leaned over the railing, looking down.  Her vision warped, like it didn’t know how to process what she saw.

“What the fuck?” Verona asked.

“Just adapt.  Let it… fixate on Kennet.”

Verona leaned over the railing beside Avery.

Avery looked, and then, after some adjustment, clarifying, and focus, she could see Kennet from above, from multiple angles.  With Lost sight.

“Looks like when I borrowed Snowdrop’s eyes with the gates of horn.”

“Yeah,” Avery agreed.  “Lost perspective.  Can sort of see Kennet above, Kennet below, Kennet found, and- you see in the middle?”

There was a stage, and Anthem was talking.

“I wonder how she’s doing,” Verona murmured.

Avery’s eyes roved around Kennet, with an emphasis on around.

Yeah.  There was an army there.  Key elements of it were in hiding.

“Look at the perimeter.”

“Edith,” Verona replied.  “Or the Girl by Candlelight.”

“What?” Avery asked, but she looked.

Sure enough, the Girl by Candlelight was there, at the edges.

“Doing what she did before,” Verona murmured.  “When we brought the Sable and arrested her.  We captured her, but it turned out she was supporting the perimeter.”

“She’s a complex spirit, the perimeter is very spirit-driven, holds away negative spirits, negative echoes… makes some sense.”

“Familiar territory for her, yeah,” Verona agreed.

“Look past the perimeter though.”

“Soldiers.  Maricica’s.”

“Yeah.”

“More than I saw around Toronto, and I saw a lot.”

Avery nodded to herself, digesting that.

“Maricica’s there.  Showing herself to the soldiers,” Verona pointed out.

Avery looked and saw it.

The naked blood goddess, moving between groups.

They could see hiding places.  There were wards- did some of the St. Victor’s practitioners contribute to that?  Or were some of Maricica’s cultists practicing?

Avery got out her phone, drew a ‘gate of horn’ on it, drew another onto her cheekbone, before pointing it down before taking a picture.

It took a few tries to get a good one, even with the phone camera borrowing her view.  Everything shifted so much even if her eye was fixed on one spot, because it swayed depending on will and where she was standing, internally, in spirit.

“Don’t drop your phone into… whatever that is.”

“A substantial amount of nothing between us and them,” Avery said.

“Yeah?”

“Enough it gets wobbly,” Avery said.

“Sounds like you’ve figured this shit out.”

“Getting there.  But there’s other stuff to figure out first,” Avery replied.  She used a paint app on her phone, drawing on the distorted overhead image of Kennet.  She looked past her phone, letting eyes adjust, checking details.

“What’s your line of thought?”

“That there’s only a few key points.  Carmine and Aurum domain end at the water.  Nobody has real jurisdiction there.”

“Gold fringed flag and maritime borders,” Verona replied.

“What?”

“Nevermind.  The seas are lawless.”

“It’s a lake.”

“Yeah.  But you get me, right?”

“Hm,” Avery grunted.  She looked between phone and reality.  Then she showed Verona.  “If I circle Kennet, then the key area is the shore.  Borders end there, so I have to move along the shore, if I want to circle around Kennet.  They know that, so there’s a whole lot of people there.”

“Yeah.”

There were at least fifty people with guns there, by the point where the river that ran through and south of Kennet met the lake.  The pass between the shore there and Kennet was littered with abandoned buildings from the old steel mill days, and got narrow.

“I get a lot more freedom when I’m clear of there.  So if I go…”

She focused, took another picture, and then showed Verona, tracing finger on screen.

With where there were encampments, there was a gap.

“That gets me about three-quarters of the way across the shore.”

“And then they camp out and wait for you to try and cross the last quarter.  Even with glamour or other shenanigans, that’s a lot Ave.”

“So you do it,” Avery told Verona.  “It’s either of us that walk over an area to take the territory and anything that territory encloses, right?  So we time it.”  Once I’m in the woods around Kennet, I have so much leeway.  I could go five miles to the east, circle north…”

She refocused, took a picture, and showed Verona the picture.

“Go north, get past the highway, go west, south… meet me?” Verona asked.

“Just focus on that portion of shore.  Let me go first, grab their attention…”

From the Stick-Up to snow-covered shoreline.  Avery landed without a sound, the ground rippling underfoot.  Snowdrop clung to her shoulder with sharp nails.

Like following a play out of Mr. Artrip’s playbook.  He didn’t do much that was fancy.  This wasn’t fancy.

Surround Kennet or confront the Aurum, she thought.

She thought of everything she was holding onto, hoping for.

For that bit of extra courage.

Funny, really.

That Mr. Artrip had really wanted her to join track, and here she was, and so much hinged on her doing just that.  One very intense run.

Her bracelet clicked.  Ambient.

She was being watched.  From-

She saw a figure on the side of the artificial cliff that overlooked the pass through to Kennet.  Standing on a ledge above where rock had been removed to widen the pass enough for traincarts and vehicles to pass through.

Before they could blow a horn and warn anyone, she was moving.

Couldn’t use the black rope.

She was halfway from the rocky outcropping on the shore to the edge of the trees before the sound reached them.

Three-quarters of the way to the trees before people saw the horn-blower, saw where he was indicating, holding out a red flag, and then tracked that to her.

Two people were at the edge of the woods.  She hadn’t expected them, they must have taken that position in the time it took her to get off the Promenade and onto this shore.  Both had dicks out, and were turning snow yellow.

They heard her running footsteps, one of them reaching for a weapon.  A spell card thrown at their feet got them out of her way.

She was inside the trees before the first bullets fired.  Punching into tree trunks.  Punching through in two cases.  Not near her.  The rune at her shoulder glowed warm but not hot.  Wouldn’t have hit her, but it was in the neighborhood.

She was still glad to be another few paces into the woods when more gunshots came.  More wood and tree trunks between her and them.

She black-roped forward.  Skipping forward, around.

Behind her, she heard Maricica claim people.  That Abyssal geysering, the people dragged beneath.  To be hardened, thrown back up, a little more bogeyman than before, a little more Abyssal, more hers.

Any loss, apparently, was enough for her to claim them.  Even being thrown around by a wind blast while taking a piss.

Avery took evasive action, just to be safe.

The sound of gunshots had alerted others.  Snowdrop helped her look out.  With Lost vision, she could see a bit of the way around tree trunks that would’ve blocked her view.  She went high, as she ran through snow along a slope, above people who were navigating the angled ground, hands on trees.

With the punch-stapler, she punted each of them down the slope.

More of Maricica’s blasts.

There was a big crowd behind her.

“Verona, Verona, Verona.”

“Avery, Avery, Avery.”

Signal given.

Edith was on the slope of Bowdler, the easternmost ski hill.  The same hill that they’d had the end-of-school party on, last year.  Avery could see the cabins.

She could see the Girl by Candlelight up there, at the perimeter.

Too far away to chase.

No Edith anymore.  The spirit was out, whole, tall, carrying her candle.

A sad, weird image just for Avery.

She ran on.

The trees thinned out a bit.  She had a glimpse of the valley.  She black roped across the gap, stumbled a bit, and alerted a group of about ten people with guns.

She was gone before they opened fire, but they kept going, blindly firing into the trees.

Avery took cover by a big tree.

Bullets took out chunks of tree.

Snowdrop’s nose pointed up.  Avery looked up to check, then black-roped her way to high ground, her back still to a trunk so big she couldn’t encircle a quarter of it with her arms.

She took a second to catch her breath, and to take stock.  “Good call, Snow.”

Snowdrop sneezed.

Avery, Avery, Avery.

Verona uttering her name three times reached out across connections.  Avery saying Verona’s name was the signal that she’d drawn people away.  The first time Verona had replied had been to signal she was in place and moving.

The second time meant she was past the hard part, through, and safe.

They had the shore.

Avery didn’t hug Kennet’s perimeter, where people were thickest.  She moved through trees for a bit, then moved back down to solid ground.

One guy was listening to a radio.  She heard him before she saw him.  Circling around, she tossed a spell card.  Low to the ground, flipping around, it settled on the frozen dirt.

Frozen dirt liquefied into mud.  The timed portion of the card changed.  Mud promptly solidified into solid earth again.  He was caught, hands, feet, and ass in solid dirt, and his tugs didn’t free him.

She picked up the gun from beside him, trying to figure out how to take it apart or remove the bullet.  Changing her mind, she carried it with her.  “Call for your friends.  There’s some close enough they should come for you.”

“Our Goddess of Bloody Glory is the only one I need to hear me, I obey, I give everything,” he replied.  “And she gives me life.”

She backed away.  “I don’t think you realize what that costs.”

The ground cracked below and under him.  He pulled his hands and feet free.

He didn’t come for her, though.  A hand reached up from below to grab him, dragging him beneath.  Abyssal darkness spread from the fissure.

She backed away, hurrying off before that shallow Abyssal darkness could swallow her up and slow her down.  She threw the gun into a ditch that would be awkward to reach.

Avery had to stop for breath.  She took stock, and heard people reacting to the guy getting claimed by Maricica.

Shaking her head, she went high again, perching on a high branch the black rope got her up to.  They passed beneath her.

She moved on.

To the highway.

She could hear more Abyssal eruptions.

Verona’s work?

Darkness covered Kennet on the one side.  Leaking in from the various eruptions.

She crossed the highway with the black rope, gave herself a lot of leeway, and slipped between more of Maricica’s people.  This far out, with this much gap between her and Kennet, the soldiers weren’t as dense.

And then to the final length.  Down the west side of Kenent.  There were more hills, but-

Avery, Avery, Avery.

She heard more eruptions.

Avery, Avery, Avery.

Was Verona in trouble?

Avery, Avery, Avery.

Three times three?

Her phone buzzed.

Had they got Verona?  The idea had been for Verona to cover the gap, using practice, cover fire from her other stuff, then get out.

She managed to fish it free, and checked the screen.

Verona:
STOP

Avery stopped.

Her heart hammered.

Bad place to stop, with Maricica’s cult soldiers around her.  But…

She leaned against a tree, wood providing some cover between her and them.

Was this a trick from the Aurum, who could manage technogy?  Had he deciphered Zed’s special phone?  Sent a message as Verona?

Except Verona was calling out.

The phone buzzed.

Verona:
Silence rune.
To circle.  Private call.

Avery dug one out, placing it against the dirt.  She drew out a circle around herself, rune on the outside.

The world went quiet.

She dialed Verona.

“Ronnie?”

“It’s a game of chicken, Ave.”

“What?”

“The people, they’re offing themselves.  Then Maricica claims them, she spreads Abyss-stuff.  It’s all connecting together.  If we draw this circle around Kennet, she’ll draw hers.”

A circle of Abyss-stuff.

“You remember what Ann does, right?”

“Yeah,” Avery replied.

Just like how them running around Kennet to draw out their territory and claim everything within would give them Kennet, a circle of Abyss-stuff around Kennet would mean that the Abyss could claim it.

It would plummet.  Everyone and everything inside would fall to the Abyss.  Kennet would be gone.  Her dad, Grumble, Declan, and Kerry would be gone.  Jasmine.  The Others.

Avery slumped, sitting.  Phone to her ear.

They were holding Kennet hostage.

They’d lose the Carmine, the Carmine throne, all the associated power.

But Kennet would be gone.

“Can we break it up?” Avery asked.  “Gilkey’s poison was enough that Maricica couldn’t keep bringing people back.  She gave up, and when she did-”

“She lost her claim.”

“Verona, Lucy’s fighting hard.  Advocating for us, for vital stuff.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s counting on us.  I figure it takes me five minutes to close the circle.”

“I hear you.”

“We all have our parts to play.”

“Start running.  I’ll do what I can.”

Avery snatched up the silence rune and bolted, running through snow, fist gripping the rune, opossum at her shoulder.  She’d ditched her bag with Verona, so she could be a little lighter.

Maricica wanted to play chicken?

Threatening to draw a dark, cracked circle around Kennet, then drop it into the Abyss?

Then Avery would run to draw her own circle, and Verona would do something to try to break Maricica’s.

Avery’s mind raced in very different directions and ways than her body and feet were carrying her.  She thought about protections and sanctuaries, about ways they’d looked into keeping Kennet afloat, when they’d been planning the founding.

She crossed the highway again.  Into the woods.

A man was there, and she tackled him- hands grabbing his rifle- she was smaller, but she had momentum, she had two hands on it, and he had only the one.

Elbow going over it, upper arm hugging the middle of it, she wrested it away from him, switching her grip around.  She lost the silence rune in the process.

“You don’t want me to shoot you, I don’t-”

“Here!” he hollered.  “She’s here!”

She aimed at him, considering shooting, then decided not to.

It didn’t matter.

“I failed you,” he said, barely audible, touching fingers to lips.

And the Abyss claimed him behind Avery.

“Three times, I visited Zoomtown today,” she whispered to herself.  Her bracelet clicked as someone saw her, and she quickly changed direction.  The bullet hit the tree.  A rune at the back of her neck pulsed, vaguely warm.  It hadn’t needed to push anything away.

“Three times.  I earned that boon.  I took it, and I took someone I met, and I built that into something amazing,” she whispered.  “Met Jude, through him I met the Garricks, and through him, we did the fucking Promenade.  So if that matters, if there’s any meaning to any of this-”

And they were there.  Crashing through trees.

She hurled herself through and past them.  Ducking, black rope fifteen feet ahead and she couldn’t even take one more step before there were more people to account for.  She grabbed one and flung them in a quarter circle around her, using him as a human shield and black roped while he blocked other people from seeing her.  Getting out of the way as his friends opened fire.

Abyssal explosions marked Maricica closing her circle.

She was passing Greensley Hills.  Passing the road that led to the rest stop where she’d met and talked to Clementine.

Before the barrier had been torn down.  In rebuilding it, they’d laid groundwork for something else.  Something bigger.  And that groundwork was groundwork for other things.

She was good at running but this wasn’t easy running.  Up and down hills, snow usually calf-deep.  Her breath hurt in her lungs.

The Abyss chased her.

She saw through the trees, to the first hint of shore.

The golden centipede slithered across her way.  Everything else went quiet.

Avery stopped running.

“You wanted an audience?” the Aurum Coil asked.

“Verona, Verona, Verona,” she whispered, panting for breath.

As signals went, it was poor, but… it was what they had.

“Finally showing up?”

“It was time.”

“I’m in my rights to ask for an audience.”

“You are.”

“Was it worth it?” she asked.  “Losing territory?”

“If needed, we can retake it.”

“Removing other Judges around you?  Or spirit lords, or whoever’s taking on the job of being the last in line to handle something?”

“Yes.  It’s a possibility.  Do you know what I once was?”

“A fugitive of Fortune.”

“I was.  And a city spirit.  Knit together here.  But even though I cheated Fortune herself, I’m not that greedy.  If I have to rule over next to nothing to be off people’s radar… maybe I do that for a while.  We’ll see what the Carmine has in mind.”

“Didn’t want me to finish the circle huh?  Or for Maricica to?”

“No,” the Aurum replied.  “Do you have any requests?”

Avery was still catching her breath.

It would be Verona setting the stage, then.  Verona sending out the signal.

“Approach,” he said.

Avery did.

“I’m surprised you didn’t back down,” the Aurum told her.

Avery looked down.

“It would have been better if you had.”

A line in the dirt.  Black.

The Sable?

There was staining around it.

Avery looked off to the sides, head darting around.  There wasn’t any movement on her bracelet.  Snowdrop’s fur stood on end.

“She’s occupied with Verona, who is fine,” the Aurum said.  “As practitioner, you should know what a drawn line represents.”

“Barrier, wall?” Avery asked.  She had goosebumps.

“Her inch-wide territory stands between me and you.  You haven’t reached me, Avery Kelly.  You must reach me and my territory-”

Avery started forward.

“-to have your audience.”

He didn’t look scared or alarmed.

Avery twisted, planting a foot hard into snow, and threw herself to one side.  Fist with black rope punching out.  She stumbled hard- and for a moment she thought the black rope had failed her.

Not being in his audience meant she wasn’t granted the security of being in his realm.  Meaning the whole group of soldiers behind her were free to open fire.  Runes all over her body went white-hot, doing their best to push away at the incoming projectiles.

The gunfire wasn’t a series of shots, but a continuous, nonstop roar, one gunshot starting before the first had even finished.

If she’d kept running forward, she would’ve been riddled with bullets.

Avery crashed into bushes, pushed herself up, was knocked down, barely stepping forward as she black roped away.  She stepped, fell again.

They kept track.  The Aurum or Maricica were directing their attention in the right direction.

She tried to stand, and felt a pain in her side, and fell.  And it was like- like Declan had punched her somewhere that really smarted, but at the same time…

Snowdrop became human, grabbing Avery’s arm, pulling her to her feet.  Avery got to her feet and immediately fell onto Snowdrop.

That sharp, smarting pain pierced her, this time.

At her pelvis, crimson was going all the way through her jeans to the coat with the antlers on it that Verona had made her.  There were a lot of layers of clothing for that blood to go through that fast.

The gunshots weren’t stopping.  Avery pushed her head down, forehead into snow.   Men and women walked closer, reloading, spreading out.  Not even all that far behind her.  Avery wondered if her antler coat camouflaged her just a tiny bit.

Snowdrop went small to squeeze out from beneath her.

Avery reached out, and scooped Snowdrop close, hugging her to her upper chest.  Her breath came and went as a shudder.

The runes weren’t that hot, but the sharp points in her side were.  She breathed around them, and the pattern of breathing reminded her of her mom starting to go into labor with Kerry, before Dad had taken her to the hospital.  Breathing through the pain.

“Good-”

She gave Snowdrop an impulse.  Snowdrop, becoming human, moved Avery’s arm with the black rope, hauling on it so hard that Avery thought it might dislocate her shoulder.  Avery shut her eyes.

They lurched forward.  Black roping ahead.

“-attempt,” the Aurum said, from the far side of the trees, his voice echoing through.  “Not quite.”

“…Should be a safe haven.  We’re happier that way,” Steyn said.

“Any objections?” Ann asked.

Lucy shook her head.

“Yes,” Mr. Mele said.  “I’m sorry.  But there’s too many of us who rely on the element of surprise.”

“That element can be turned against you,” Anthem said.

“You said you had another fairy court that wanted your attention,” Mrs. Ferguson said.

“I have several.  Why?”

“I’d like to suggest a break, so we can eat dinner.  Nobody is served by us getting cranky.”

“Let’s treat this like a proper flilibuster,” Charles said.  “No leaving, no breaks.  If you don’t have it in you to stay for the full meeting, that’s your choice.”

“We can leave and come back,” Anthem murmured to Lucy.  “If we organized into blocs, each block stalling or taking their turn while others rest, eat, use the washroom, or anything else that takes longer than he takes to resolve the other small moots…”

“So we group by shared interests and take shifts?” Lucy asked.

“You all are really that interested in dragging this out?” Charles asked.

“You have a lot of stubborn personalities here,” Grandfather said.  “Everyone knows that if they step out or go home, the others are free to continue without them.”

“You’ve manufactured hell for yourselves,” Charles said.

“So long as it’s awful for you,” Lucy said.

“Carry on with your arguments.”

“I’d like to add my own,” Grandfather said.  “We were attacked while holding a council meeting.  It’s too important that we have those.  They should be included in the list of protected spaces.”

“Let me know if you need a break,” Anthem murmured.  “I know we don’t align on everything, but your mentors can keep me in line.”

Lucy nodded.

“I’ll come with if you take a break, we can chat,” Liberty said.  “I’m guessing you can’t say much about what’s going on.”

The Sable had arrived, Lucy realized.

She watched as he walked up to the stage and then walked around to where Charles was.

She dug for her phone, checking.

“Shit.”

Messages from Verona, that she’d seen earlier and replied to.

Verona:
I think we got it.
Stage is set.
Signal going out.

With one she hadn’t read yet.

Verona (4 minutes ago):
What do we think about Turtle Queen trying for Aurum?

“The Turtle Queen?” Lucy muttered.  She looked at Guilherme, then Grandfather.  “Aurum fucking Turtle Queen?”

Grandfather hissed through his teeth.  “There’s worse.”

She typed.

Lucy:
Wait.  Thinking.

Verona immediately sent a thumbs-up emoji in response.

The Sable murmured something to the Carmine.  Lucy wasn’t privy to it.  She badly wished she was.  It would help her make her decision.

The Sable remained beside the Carmine throne, watching proceedings, face unreadable, emotionless.

Charles sat in his seat, listening as Mr. Mele and Damaryon Steyn debated, with others chiming in.  He’d been so irritated, like every few words was a flick with an elastic band, and he’d always been short tempered, even before a full day of, well, this.

Lucy held onto her phone, Verona waiting on the other end, to give or not give the A-ok to make the Turtle Queen their champion against the Aurum.  She struggled to decide what it meant that, more than any time she’d seen him, Charles looked a little sad and very serious.

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