Dash was up and dressed as soon as Jack came out of her morning shower. The farmer raised her brow as she vigorously wiped her hair dry.

“Mornin' sunshine, yer up early.”

The Ritter rubbed her bloodshot eyes. “Will ran in here while you were in the john. He's flipping sh--” She yawned, covering her large mouth with a fist. “Shit. He's been barging into everyone's rooms and telling them to meet him at the track.”

Jack moved to the chest of drawers and threw on a pair of pants. “Already? Dang. Wanted ta get a bite ta eat first.”

“No time, bro. Princesses are already here, I guess.”

Jack froze, the zipper halfway up on her jeans. “W-what? B-but they--”

“They showed up early.”

Jack clumsily finished donning her britches, then focused on putting on a shirt. She quickly buttoned herself up, then scowled when she realized she was off on her buttons. She undid the shirt and started down again.

“Take it easy, hayseed. They're not gonna be any less here if you rush.”

The blonde took a breath, methodically finishing getting dressed as Dash took a glance over at the new addition to the room, resting in a pile at the foot of Jack's bed.

“What's with the suit, by the by? You were totally passed out when I got in last night, so...” Dash asked, giving a nod with her head towards the leather armor.

“Gift from Rare.”

“Leather, huh? It, uh, actually work?”

Jack gave an incredulous look Dash's way. “Ain't like I go about tryin' ta get stabbed. I dunno how well it'll do.”

“For the love of—you don't have to be wearing it when you try it out, dummy.”

“Jus' makin' a joke. I ain't that stupid, sug.” She rolled her eyes.

“Need a hand getting it on?” Isabelle asked, yawning once more.

“If yer offerin', pardner,” Jack conceded, picking up the pieces and tossing them onto the bed. She started on her gauntlets. “Dunno how people stand all these belts an' crap. Drives me nuttier than a squirrel's house durin' winter.”

“Takes some practice,” Dash agreed, moving to grab her boots and leg guards. “Still takes me about ten minutes to gear up, and I've been doing it for a couple years now.”

“Mmm,” the farmer grunted, continuing the tedious task.

They each worked in silence for a moment, until a thought came to Jack's mind.

“Aw hogwash, fergot ta tell ya somethin' yesterday: ya know Gilda?”

The athlete froze briefly, then shrugged. “Might.”

“Bumped inta her the other day, said she wanted ta jaw.”

Dash paused. “She wanted to what?”

“Jaw. Ya know, talk?” Jack replied, acting like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Oh. Well, she wants a lot I ain't gonna do,” Dash cooly snapped back, tugging hard at the belts of Jack's vestment.

The other quirked a brow. “Ya got a, uh, history with her, I take it?”

Dash tilted her hand left and right. “Bit closer than me and you guys, not quite at you and Rarity level, you dig?” She shrugged after another pause. “You know how it goes, man. Stuff happened.”

“Stuff?”

“Yeah.” Dash breathed out, lifting her multi-hued bangs from her eyes. “Gilda did some shit behind my back. Said some words to Chylene too—made the girl cry.”

Jack thought briefly about their timid friend. “Jus' 'bout everythin' does, though. Hell, I'm pretty sure I've done it after speakin' too loud when she didn't know I was around.”

“That's different,” Dash argued, putting the finishing touches on Jack's gear. “She was a jerk to my friends. I don't play that game.” She looked over Jack. “There. Got you ready to rock.”

Jack did a quick glance over herself. She put her thumb to her index finger, making a circle, and nodded. “Thanks.”

“No problemo.” Dash did an about-face, turning towards the door. “I'm gonna head towards the meeting grounds—got my gear stashed nearby with some of the others. Don't take too long, hayseed.”

“Won't. Jus' gonna brush my teeth—see ya there.”

Isabelle nodded, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway, leaving Jack alone with her thoughts.

The farmer went to the bathroom sink and splashed cold water on her face, trying to pump herself up. She was nervous—not like guarding royalty was a common thing for her; what if she screwed up? Lord knew that Camelot folks just about swam in etiquette and protocols, and while the last time she had met the princesses they were considerate and fairly laid-back, working for them might be a whole different ballgame. Groaning, Jack, killed the water and headed to the foot of her bed out of habit. The farmer stopped when she realized her trusty stetson was missing off the corner of her footrest, but quickly shut the panic down when she remembered it was with Rarity at the boutique. Jack made a note to grab it tomorrow and headed out the door, doing her best to relax her frayed nerves.

Will stood at the forefront of a handful of his students when Jack arrived, apparently telling them a story or two, judging by his wide smile. He noticed Jack walking towards them and gave a wave, stepping across the track and onto the grass.

“Apple!” Will addressed, beaming. He put his hands to his sides and nodded. “Just the woman I wanted to see!” He looked her over, eying her armor. “Not too bad. Didn't expect you for a leather gal, but whatever works. Custom job?”

Jack rubbed at her arm. “Uh, yeah. Kinda was, I guess.”

“Cool.” He gave a thumbs-up then began walking. Jack followed in step. “Got big news for you! Hell, I got two pieces of big news for you!” He held out an index finger. “First: Got a norfolk weapon en-route on the train system. Supposed to be here tomorrow, but, trust your work to a transit man, and odds are you'll find yourself canned!”

“An' the other?”

He stopped abruptly, pointing a thumb hard into his chest. “A fight for the history books.”

Jack blinked. “A fight? Who?”

Will slapped his chest with a fist.

“And?”

“The lady of the night, Apple!”

Jack took a beat to process that. “'Lady of the night?' W-wait. Are ya talkin' 'bout Luna?”

“Sure ain't a hooker!” He grinned, then paused with a frown, adding under his breath. “Poor Luna, having that title before it became synonymous with prostitution.”

“So yer tellin' me yer gonna fight an all-folk?”

He scratched at his beard. “Of course I am. Why?”

“Ya don't get it? All-folk's got all kinds-a things goin' fer 'em. Flyin', magic, hell, strength even.” Jack looked at Iron Will out of the corner of her eye. “I mean, yer a tough one, hoss, but...”

The giant crossed his arms, keeping an even stare. “But...?”

Jack's brows furrowed. “But yer jus' a man, Will. Folks like us ain't exactly got a bag-a-tricks ta use.”

Will sternly shook his head. “Apple... we're square pegs heading toward round holes.”

The farmer paused. “I, uh, don't get it.”

He rubbed at his mouth, then gestured toward Jack. “Round pegs fit into their slot without a hitch. Square pegs? Only way they're making it is through effort—by force. It takes work, but it can be done.” The scarred man looked toward the treeline up north. “Wings and spells don't make a man. Never have, never will.”

Jack shrugged. “Might not make a man, but they sure as hell help 'em out.”

He sternly turned to face her. “Then you work twice as hard as them. Hell, just by watching you in training, I know you're not the kind to shy from work.”

She offered a lopsided smile, just as the sound of wings crept up behind her. Jack glanced over. Isabelle stood, covered from her neck down in heavy, rounded steel armor. The Ritter gave a wink on seeing Jack's face.

“I know, I know. Awesome,” Dash dismissed smugly, giving a wave of her hand and smirking.

“Ain't it a bit heavy fer ya, twig?”

“Twig?” Dash bristled, putting her hands to her hips. “Better than being a thunder thighs.”

Jack narrowed her eyes and tersely smirked. “That a fat joke or somethin'?”

“Ladies!” Iron Will barked, snapping them both to attention. “Enough,” he ordered in a more subdued tone. He glanced between the two. “Now, you going to behave yourselves?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dash said with a roll of her eyes. “Better win this time, though.”

He frowned. “Last time was a fluke. I misheard a word she said—was expecting a different spell than she actually conjured. This time I'm evening the score.” He turned, starting to walk away.

Jack blinked, then quickly went after him on foot as Dash conjured her wings and took to lazily flying next Will.

“Yer tellin' me you've fought her before?”

“Have several times since we were in the war together. Luna's told me I'm the only one she's ever fought that can stand ground against her.” The man looked down, briefly in thought. “Hoping you might hold ground against her some day too,” he added under his breath.

“What was that?” Jack asked. “Didn't hear ya.”

“Nothing worth repeating, Apple. Forget it.”

The trio walked in silence for a minute, until they arrived at a pristine, well-kept field at the edge of the school grounds. About fifty feet away was Luna, knelt down and seeming to be in a deep meditative pose as she clutched a spear tightly in her hands and silently mouthed words to herself.

To their right, a good eighty feet from them, was Celestia, standing tall in her armor as white as new-fallen snow, the mighty Excalibur sheathed loosely at her side. Standing next to the princess of the sun was Twila. Jack paused.

The soul-folk looked like hell. Black eye, her arm in a sling, and a bandaged nose. The farmer briefly forgot about Will's approaching duel and made a beeline for her friend.

“Twi,” she called out as she came closer to the girl. “What in the hell happened ta ya?” Jack suddenly remembered her manners and gave an awkward bow to Celestia. “An', uh... howdy, yer grace.”

“A 'howdy' to you too, Jack,” the regal woman replied with a patient smile. The leader of Caballo then paused, looking over to her protege with a frown. “As for what happened to Twila, she risked herself for me—something I cannot condone.”

“I would do the same again in a heartbeat, princess,” Twila instantly replied. “There's no way I was going to let someone try to hurt you without a fight.”

“Someone hurt her...” Jack trailed off. It dawned on her after another moment. “Wait. Did that thief ya mentioned yesterday do this ta ya?”

“In a way,” the soul-folk agreed, rubbing the star-shaped mark on her cheek with a thumb. “I misjudged a teleportation spell, ended up a good ten feet in the air above the classroom I was knocked out of—a downside to casting a high-level spell while panicked. Makes precision go out the window.”

“Judgin' by ya havin' ta teleport, I'm guessin' no luck in keepin' her away from the goods?”

“Him, actually,” Twila corrected, then paused. “At least, I'm assuming 'him' for now.”

Jack squinted in confusion. “Uh, I didn't realize it was that hard-a thing ta figure out.”

“No, Jack,” Twila said, putting a palm to her face as Celestia let a single snort of laughter pass through her noble visage. “Magic can alter bodies for a time—that can include... organs, if you will?”

“Oh! You mean like kidneys an' stuff?”

Celestia let out another small titter of restrained laughter as Twila's jaw dropped.

“No, Jack. I'm talking abou--”

“I know, I know—jus' had ta play the naive country girl bit,” the farmer said with a small smirk, brushing off Twila's words with a wave of her hand. She paused. “I didn't know y'all could do that much ta yerselves, but I guess it makes sense, considerin' all the other shit...” Jack glanced over to Celestia. “Er, stuff, yer able ta do.”

“Anyway...” Twila's frown deepened. “I wasn't strong enough to stop him. He got the last plant needed to make his poison.”

“You did your best, my child,” Celestia said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. “That's all I ask of you.”

“Celestia, I...” Twila started, putting her good hand to Celestia's own and squeezing tightly. Before the soul-folk could continue, Dash buzzed over to them, her ethereal wings in overdrive.

“Guys! Show's about to start—better get in position!”

Jack looked at the others present, then to the two combatants, who were now surrounded by several of Iron Will's men. They appeared to be making a large circle in the ground with chalk.

“Position?” Jack repeated. Dash nodded.

“Yeah, bro. Will wants a supporter for Luna and one for him watching together.” She crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks as she levitated in air. “'It's the only way I want this watched! That way nobody's opinion gets spoiled!'” the Ritter said in a in-the-ballpark imitation of Will's tone.

“So, guess me an' Twi?”

“Actually...” Twila trailed off with a wince. “Me and Dash are going to discuss guard positioning for tonight while this battle commences. With her being one of the upperclassmen in Will's group, she's going to be issuing orders.”

“I keep fergettin' yer a year ahead of me here. Guess it's me an'...” Jack trailed off, turning to face the all-folk and swallowing.

“Indeed we are, Jack. Let's break away from the others—odds are, William will be begging me for my observations about the match.” The royal and the farmer broke away from the others and took to walking.

“Will takes this stuff serious, huh?” Jack said, trying hard to break the ice she felt around the woman.

“Has since the griffon wars,” Celestia agreed. “It is rare to see someone that devoted to the art of battle; Luna seems to be the closest thing he has to an equal anymore.”

They paused when Isabelle and Twila were blobs of color in the distance.

“How often does he win?”

Celestia crossed her arms and leaned her head back onto her shoulders in thought. “Hmm... I believe the record is forty and forty-three, give or take a few points. I know it's Luna's favor now, though.”

Jack shook her head. “Yer tellin' me that guy's won over forty fights against yer sister?”

“Around that, yes.”

The farmer couldn't wrap her head around that. “But how? He ain't even got magic, fer cryin' out loud!”

“He doesn't need magic to win.” Celestia's brow narrowed as Will put a hand on one of his assistant's shoulders and took a hefty, chipped axe from the masked man's arms.

“Ya can't be sayin' an axe beats someone that can jus' hoist ya up in the air an' choke ya, right?”

“Of course not,” Celestia replied. “The problem is actually getting the spell to stick.”

Jack scratched her hair, tilting her head slightly in confusion. “Whaddya mean?”

The all-folk pointed to Iron Will. “The reason he's feared isn't from muscle strength—that can be countered easily enough. His mind is actually the most dangerous part of his body.”

Once the arena was marked, the masked men bowed and departed, heading towards the treeline. Will gave a few practice swings to his two-handed axe, growing accustomed to its weight.

Jack said nothing, waiting for Celestia to finish her thoughts. “Thanks to the mental focus from years of single-minded training and concentration, Will's got an inordinate amount of spiritual energy inside his body that resists magic—I've seen it stop dozens of forms of illusion, alteration, and even certain conjuration spells that were thrown at him.” She smiled as she watched Iron Will get into position, his stance powerful and unafraid. “It's suicide for Luna to make him the target of magic. This battle of theirs boils down to technique and skill versus force and experience.”

It began suddenly and silently, each combatant seemingly ready without uttering a word or breaking the morning’s silence. Will charged forward, swinging his axe down. Luna easily parried it with the metal shaft of her spear and kicked him in the gut. Unphased by the strike, he swung horizontally; Luna leaned back just in time, the axe inches from her brow.

“They outta be careful,” Jack said, feeling panicked at the nearly fatal strike. “One of 'em is apt ta be killed.”

Celestia laughed.

“It looks that way, doesn't it?” she agreed. “But the seal Will's whisperer's drew around them will keep their weapon strikes non-lethal. Not that they won't feel it tomorrow—the spell just softens blows and stops blades from puncturing deep enough to be life-threatening.”

As the battle raged on between the two paragons of combat, Jack felt like she needed an answer to a question that had been bothering her since yesterday.

“Princess?”

Celestia tilted her head towards Jack, never taking her gaze off of the battle.

“Why'd ya come today?”

“To see my prized student, of course.”

Jack shook her head with a frown. “Come on now.”

“Why come when someone wants to kill me?” the woman guessed.

“Eyup.”

Celestia gave a half smile as Luna struck Will hard in the mouth with the pommel of her spear. He dodged a strike with the blade of the weapon and charged forward, slamming into her body with a shoulder.

“Two reasons, I suppose.” She briefly tapped the hilt of Excalibur with her delicate, gloved fingers. “Firstly, if I am to be targeted by an assassin, then I'd rather it be in a favorable situation. Despite their best efforts, whoever intends to target me tonight will have quite a bit of work ahead of them. If he or she manages to evade your group and subdue Will, then they still have to best me and Luna.” The faintest hard glimmer shown in her eye. “There's a reason me and my sister are the sovereign leaders of Caballo, and it's not simply due to blood lineage.”

“An' the second?”

Celestia grinned like a child, all thoughts of battle leaving her mind as she briefly looked away from the chaotic melee and towards Jack. “Do you know the legend of Excalibur?”

Jack blinked. “Kinda. Yer pa got it from some sorta... lady in a lake. I think.”

“That's mostly correct.”

“An' it's got some kinda, uh, magic in it, right?”

“Some of the strongest in the land,” Celestia agreed. She returned her gaze to Luna for a moment, before speaking again. “Do you know the strongest part of Excalibur?”

“What?”

“It's a question Merlin the Star-Swirled asked of my father when he was but a child-king.”

Jack pursed her lips in thought. “It some kinda riddle?”

“Maybe,” Celestia teased.

“Well...” She put a hand to her chin. If it was a riddle or something, she'd have to think outside the box—think about something only vaguely related to Excalibur.

The hand that holds it? Nah, comes out sounding too egotistical ta be tellin' a kid like Arthur. Maybe...

“What about the sheath?” she guessed. It was a shot in the dark, but it sorta made sense.

Celestia raised her brow in evident surprise. She put a gloved hand to her earthen-toned chin. “Why do you say the sheath?”

The farmer froze. This was worse than having to show her work in a math class. “W-well...” she swallowed. “Uh... it's like you've got yerself a fancy diplomatic meetin'. A sheathed sword at one of them things would say a lot, I'd reckon. Tell the people ya'll were talkin to that ya ain't interested in hurtin' nobody, but if ya gotta, yer gonna draw a blade ta protect you and yers.”

Celestia ran through Jack's words, giving a small wink to the farmer. “You really took it into metaphorical ground.”

“Well... don't wanna do a job halfway.”

The sun princess snorted laughter. “While you're mostly correct, there's a more practical reason why this sheath is the strongest part of the weapon.” She crossed her hands behind her back. “The sheath held—or, depending on who you ask, still holds—a divine blessing. Whosoever carries the sheath shall not suffer the breaking of blades or piercing of arrows upon their skin.” Celestia touched the handle of the legendary weapon. “They say that the blessing ended with the death of my father, but I have my doubts.”

“I'd imagine so, yer still in one piece after the war—that's somethin' right there.”

“Mmm,” Celestia off-handily replied. “The sheath is akin to Schrodinger's cat, in a way. I won't know if the blessing still actually exists until I get injured.”

“Why's the cat of a fella named Schrodinger important?” Jack asked, obviously clueless.

“Nevermind. It's...” Celestia trailed off with a slightly disappointed shake of her head. “My point is that even if the magic isn't there anymore, I'd still carry it.”

“'Cause it's yer father's?”

“Indeed. This way he can live on with me.”

Jack and Celestia slipped back into quiet observation of the two combatants. Neither had given much ground, though Will had a shallow cut across his chest and Luna had a rapidly swelling black eye.

“Surprised you let yer sister do this,” Jack commented.

“Luna's always had a fascination with warfare, even before we were old enough to enter the fray. Tactics, swordplay, archery, offensive magic—if I didn't let her fight her battles, that would be the far crueler fate.”

“She fight a lot?”

“About any time we manage to flee Camelot together,” Celestia joked, her hair swaying in an unfelt breeze. “It's been hard leaving just the Council in charge of decision-making in our absence, they're always second guessing themselves and seeking our advice on matters.” She raised her brow in thought. “Now that the self-exiled princess is back, though, maybe I can sneak off a bit more often, give them a chance or two to prove themselves without my guidance. Give them a taste of how Luna runs things.”

“Sounds like the Council's a pretty big deal,” Jack said, running a finger under her nose.

Celestia nodded, her words taking on a philosophical tone. “It's an important position. They're around to make sure my sister and I are doing what's best for Caballo as a whole. Our... ideas for what's right in this land can sometimes come across as a bit old fashioned, suffice to say. The Council makes sure we can be held in check.”

“Ain't nothin' wrong with bein' a bit ol'-fashioned,” Jack replied, nodding slightly as Will yanked the spear Luna thrust at him out of her hands and struck at her temple with an elbow. The blonde scowled when Luna rolled with the blow, landing on the ground a few feet back and to Will's right. With a gesture, her spear seemed to disintegrate from William's hands. At the same instant, it quickly built itself back together in her own palms. Will offered an exasperated look, wrung his hands around his axe shaft, and charged forward once more.

Celestia smiled. “Perhaps. Still, it's important to hear a modern man's worldview occasionally. Debate keeps the mind sharp, and reminds me on occasion that I'm not all-powerful—that I have people to answer to, just as much as anyone living in this country does.” She clasped her hand at Excalibur's sheath once more. “Power has to be tempered with responsibility. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Jack agreed, surprised at how she was adapting to speaking with one of the rulers of her country. Just a month or so ago, Jack wouldn't have a clue what to do with someone this regal and cultured.

“Good. Will tells me you have the markings of a warrior—if you heed my advice, I think he'll be right.”

“Warrior? Will all due respect, princess, I'm jus' a farmer from the south, 'bout all I want,” Jack replied easily, looking away from Celestia for a moment to stare once more at the battle between two living legends.

Celestia was about to reply but held back, instead letting a small, sad smile cross her features as she returned her own gaze to the fight.

Jack stood patiently amid the crowd of armed guards as she waited for Will to return from the nurse's lounge. The lady that worked the office probably wasn't used to treating a norfolk and a princess back-to-back, Jack thought with a shake of her head.

The fight was intense, as close as a razor, neither had walked away uninjured; Will had a fractured eye socket and a puncture wound in his gut—the seal his companions had crafted before the match had thankfully stopped Luna's spear from piercing too deeply. Luna, on the other hand, had a fractured arm and a burn mark across her neck—Celestia said that if the seal hadn't been up, Will's axe wouldn't have been repelled. The man probably would have decapitated her. Jack wasn't sure how to take Celestia's nonchalant approach to their altercation. If it had been her, Jack would have been fretting about the magic wearing off mid-fight so bad that she wouldn't be able to swing her weapon.

Then again, the farmer never had much trust for magic working right.

Will finally came after another minute or two, limping, bandaged and clutching at one side of his jawline, but smiling proudly. He walked through the track field and throng of students. After getting a few paces ahead of the group, he snapped around and to attention, puffing his bare chest out and staring straight ahead with his unbandaged eye, past his students.

Jack gave a quick glance behind her, then turned forward once more. She paused, doing a double-take.

Luna approached, her arm in a sling and bruises all but coating her pale skin. She too, marched forward, through the sea of people that parted within seconds of noticing their ruler. Dozens of them kneeled down. Jack looked at them briefly, then clumsily dropped to a knee herself. The princess stepped slowly past the farmer, joining Will's side.

“Arise, my loyal subjects,” Luna commanded.

The group rose, with many taking a militaristic, rigid pose. Jack simply put her hands to her hips and waited for their liege to speak once more.

“Today, thou art guardians of Caballo's will. We know that in our heart of hearts, thou shalt preform thine duties with the utmost skill and as such, We simply would like to thank all of you for this blessing.” Luna bent down to her knees, falling prostrate and cradling her injured hand to her chest as she tapped her forehead to the ground. “Thou remember the words of thine fathers and their fathers before them. Each of you honor the Pendragon's in more ways than We can express.” The princess remained on the ground for a moment, before rising and dusting off her armor. “'Thine instructor will now delegate thine place and location for this evening. While I doubt greatly of a man foolish enough to attack mine sister or I, We trust any attempts on our body's well-being will not go without a fight.”

Will nodded. “You can count on us. Besides, if this guy gets through the rest...” he gestured towards his students, then pointed a thumb to his chest. “He still has to tangle with the best.” Will then reached into both of the pockets of his pants, producing a small notebook and a pair of reading glasses. He put them on and frowned at how skewed they were thanks to his bandages. With a roll of his good eye, he took off the pair and squinted hard at the paper. “Ok, let's see... uh...”

Luna turned her gaze to the giant. “Shall I speak on your behalf?”

Will sighed, handing over the notebook. “Only because you got me square in the good eye earlier.”

“And thou caught me on my favorite throat,” Luna dryly retorted.

Will gave a small chuckle. “Guess we're square.”

Luna cleared her throat, turning to the crowd. “Apple, Jack!” she bellowed, loud enough to make everyone wince. “Thou art to be a guardian of mine and mine sister's quarters!”

Jack was tempted to ask if she should read Luna and Celestia a bedtime story too, but decided against it. Anyone shouting like that was bound to not be in a joking mood.

“Almadia, Andre!”

A young sky-folk gave a nod, wiping his nose with a thumb.

“Thou shalt be under Isabelle Ritter's tutelage!”

Luna continued to shout, issuing directions to dozens of people. Dash was on patrol in the hallways, with three people under her command. A few other names Jack vaguely knew were called out, putting several guards outside the school's entrance, patrolling the fields, and a few others keeping watch over the basement and dormitories. A short time later, Gilda was called to arms, instructed to join Jack in guarding the quarters.

The farmer swore under her breath. Of all the people to be paired with, it had to be her. Jack glanced across the crowd. Sure enough, she spotted Gilda, who bore her own mark of disdain at the news.

“Thou all have thine orders! Let us all make haste to fulfill them!” Luna barked out. “Honor thine fathers with thine works!”

They all separated, falling into cliques as they traveled to their posts, a few only briefly stopping to arm themselves from a crate of weapons some of Will's servants had placed nearby during Luna's announcements. Jack lagged behind the others, being one of the last to actually get to the supplies. As she bent down to try and find a weapon in strong enough not to be damaged by her colossal strength, a hand tapped her on the shoulder.

Jack turned, coming face to face with one of Will's masked companions. He wordlessly thrust a hefty looking single-bit axe Jack's way. The farmer raised a brow as the man made a few small finger gestures with his free hand. He nodded and gave another small thrust with the weapon's handle, encouraging Jack to take it.

“Uh, thanks?” she offered. He nodded, briskly turning and walking off. The farmer shook her head. “What in the sam hill was that about?” she muttered to herself.

“Sign language,” Gilda said from a few feet away. Jack turned, spotting Gilda about fifteen feet away and approaching, barely making a noise on the packed dirt.

Jack shook her head. “Yer as quiet as a mouse at a librarian's funeral.”

“What?”

“Jus' sayin' ya caught me by surprise is all.” Jack shrugged. Gilda grunted, quickly looking over the cache of weapons and selecting a sheathed dagger, which she promptly looped around her belt with a bit of fabric. “So, how'd ya know what he was doin' there?”

“What? The sign language?” Gilda asked, pulling back her sleeve and checking the small, wrist-mounted crossbow attached to her arm. “Will told me about it last year.”

“Why didn't that fella jus' speak ta me?”

Gilda scowled, adjusting the middriff-bearing jacket she wore. “Are you freaking stupid? They can't.”

“Why?”

The archer looked over Jack with disdain. “You are that stupid.” She shook her head. “They're all muties.”

“Like, they can't talk, or...?”

Gilda smirked, exposing her tongue. She ran a thumb underneath it. “Like they got it cut out.”

Jack paused, looking over the other's face. Not detecting any hint of a joke, the farmer slowly put a hand to her mouth. “Jesus... why, though?”

“They're like soul-folk. Got power in 'em. While people around here use their hands for spells, norfolk speak or sing to produce magic”

“Guess callin' 'em whisperer's makes sense.”

“Yeah. As for the ones around here that follow Will, they were part of a group of norfolk that got captured during the wars, I guess. Griffon-folk didn't want any chance of magic getting turned against 'em, so...” Gilda clicked her tongue. “Off with 'em.”

Jack shook her head. “What kinda monsters do that ta people?”

Gilda didn't have an answer.

After a beat, the white-haired woman glanced away and rudely brushed past the farmer. “It is what it is. Let's get this damn day over with, hick.”

The farmer narrowed her brow. “Right behind ya.”

Trixie woke up as dusk light filtered past the venetian blinds by her bedside. She weakly groaned, sitting up and tossing her legs over the bedside. Her entire body ached thanks to overtaxing her powers last night. She coughed harshly, clutching at her burning throat and standing. Her legs buckled and she limply collapsed to the wooden floor. The soul-folk sucked in a pained breath, weakly getting to her knees and using the corner of her desk to rise.

Trixie stumbled once more, but caught herself this time. After another moment, she fully rose and glanced over to the far end of her room, where lay several small beakers half full with various chemicals and a mortar and pestle with brown and green dried plant pulpings shredded inside. Trixie moved at a limp across the room, sitting down at the counter and taking to slowly and mechanically grinding the plants into a fine powder. She gave a small thought to the pick-me-up in her cloak, but decided against it for now—she only had two vials of the stuff, and one was going to be all but necessary if things went south tonight, as weak as she was.

She rolled her neck and reached for the beakers, popping the corks off of each top and pouring the individual mixtures into the mortar, then stirring the concoction slowly and carefully. Magesbane could react violently if you weren't careful with it—Trixie was already painfully low on magical reserves, she didn't want to be tapped completely out, after all.

Her thoughts wandered as she monotonously stirred the foul smelling mixture.

As long as she had successfully misdirected everyone about her real target, she wouldn't have a problem at all tonight. It had seemed bothersome at the time, stealing more supplies than she needed, but it was the only way Trixie could put the idea in Twila's mind that she was targeting an all-folk.

Trixie shook her head. Despite wanting to put the girl she was after in a magical coma, Dorcis didn't want her hurt. “A warning is all,” he had said. Trixie didn't understand the reason then, or now. It had just seemed like it'd be so much easier to just kill the woman—wasn't like that soul-folk knew combat, after all, compared to Twila.

The white-haired girl paused for a moment, sitting dead still.

“Twila...” Trixie growled out, clenching a hand so hard she could feel the nails biting her palm.

It wasn't fair. That pathetic excuse for a soul-folk shouldn't have lived through last night, once their spells had began. Trixie was stronger, faster, far more capable of anything that second-string bookworm was ever capable of doing, and yet...

Come on. Snap out of it, Trixie thought, refusing to think any more about her rival. What was Trixie's order of operation? Gas the woman, drag or teleport her to the bell tower. Complete the ceremony. Ok. That's not bad at all.

And after that? After that, she'd be eating on Dorcis's ticket for years to come.

The tailor Dorcis was after wouldn't even know what hit her.

Author's Notes:

Just wanted to give a big thank you to my readers. Every thumb, favorite and comment you guys put down feels good, man. I know it's been a bit--hopefully this chapter and the next one I'll upload in a day or so is enough to excuse my absence, haha.