The desert wind shrieked loudly, drowning out the sound of a crackling fire. What had once been a splendid building of white stone now stood in shambles, with a thick column of smoke rising from the ruins up into the night sky. Orange flames licked greedily against the remains of the structure, blackening it beyond all recognition. Outside, waves of sand rose and fell in a dance as the wind thrashed around, conjured by the exchanged energies from the battle that had taken place mere minutes before.

Not far away, where the wind was slightly calmer, were four figures, three standing, with one kneeling before the others. The latter was a man dressed in a large black cloak that billowed in the wind, obscuring most of his features in the lump of cloth.

Another man stood directly in front of him, dressed in a slightly-tattered robe the color of dried blood. His eyes glowed with a sharp amber light, standing out brilliantly in the shadow of the nearby fire. The hair on his head was clumped together, making it appear more like the feathered headdress of a bird than a man—a look authenticated by the beak-like nose centered on his face.

At his right stood a woman, clad from head to toe in a robe of dark blue. Strands of silver hair hung out like a tattered curtain from underneath her hood. At her hip hung an elaborate scabbard, elegantly-curved to accomodate a saber. Her calloused hand rested on the hilt, olive-tanned fingers drumming against it in eager anticipation.

On his opposite side was another woman, though she was obviously not of the human kind. Her skin was a dark, ashen gray, and from her back a pair of short yet stout wings stretched out in a vibrant orange the same as her shoulder-length hair, which blew freely in the wind. From the tips of her fingers stretched claws like ten razor-sharp daggers of a deep black color, steadily rasping against one another with a foreboding, ear-grating sound. A red dress and black corset wrapped around her figure tightly, the skirt cut open on the sides to allow her legs free movement.

“That wasn't so bad, was it?” the red-robed man croaked, smoke trailing out of his mouth as he spoke.

The winged woman's fingers twitched in annoyance, causing the dagger-like claws to clink together.

"Even a few meters is enough to break my wings if I try and carry three people at the same time, master," she said simply.

He flashed her a smile that could perhaps be seen as apologetic, but it lasted for a mere moment before he turned his gaze upon the other woman.

“You alright, Trix?” he asked worriedly.

“I'm fine,” she croaked hoarsely, then turned her face to spit.

Both of them were covered in soot. Trixie's midnight-blue robe now bore a thick layer of ash and sand, and whenever she made even the slightest move, a squealing sound of metal against metal sounded out.

“Gonna take me forever to clean the sand out from the joints,” she muttered, then spat again before turning her gaze back to the red-robed man. “So, what now?”

“One hour of rest, then we return to the monastery and collect our payment,” he announced, then turned his eyes to the kneeling figure. ”After we're done here, we take our wayward sorcerer along on the Path, then let him go.”

“Just like that?” the winged woman asked, and her dagger-claws clinked once more. She sounded disappointed.

“Yes Promise, we let him go. Maybe slap him on the wrist first, but we don't kill him.”

“Karon,” Trixie came up and put a hand on his shoulders. “This has gone on long enough. It used to be nice knowing we had a steady source of pay from cleaning up this fool's messes. But that was before... everything else happened. Let's be done with him.”

Karon turned, looking into the woman's lilac eyes. “No, Trix, I can't—”

“No Karon, you can kill him. There's enough on your shoulders without you trying to treat this idiot like an escaped pet in need of parental guidance. He has made his choices; again and again. He's not going to stop now, and you have enough hardship ahead of you. I don't want you to strain yourself on his account,” she finished softly, and moved her hands up to his cheek.

Karon sighed deeply. “I know, Trix. But now it's more important than ever that I hold on to the little things, and don't resort to the easy way out,” he murmured softly, and put an arm around her waist.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “As long as it is for your sake, not his.” She poked a finger hard into his midriff.

“Please Trix, you know me...” he said with a grin. “I do everything for myself.”

She grinned back, but they were both interrupted when Promise rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "What about me, then?" she exclaimed. "Don't you consider how this makes me feel, master?!"

“What's the matter, Promise?” Karon asked with an emotionless voice that implied this wasn't the first time they had had this conversation.

“I haven't killed anything in months!” she whined.

Trixie rolled her eyes, and Karon suppressed a smile.

“Don't worry, Promise. Sooner or later we'll run into something that just really needs to die. But for now, we need to keep our killing to a minimum. I don't want to... rouse anything.”

“I don't understand what's so wrong with eating people's souls,” she muttered.

Karon's face twisted into a grimace. Trixie looked over at the winged creature angrily.

“If you want, you can be responsible for keeping an eye on Leti and making sure he doesn't run off again,” Karon offered.

Wings fluttering excitedly, Promise turned her eyes on the black-clad figure, and her face split into a grin. Then she stalked over and delivered a swift kick, her heel ramming squarely into Leti's chin. He fell back with a soft thud and a yelp of surprise.

“You do realize that we are leaving in less than an hour, and if he's unconscious you're the one that has to carry him?” Karon admonished, doing his best not to chortle.

“Then I'll just wake him up,” Promise shrugged, raising her right hand and rasping her dagger-claws against one another ominously.

“It's a two-day walk from here to the monastery; are you planning on knocking him out every time we stop for a rest?” Karon asked.

“Yes,” she replied, a pleased look on her face; and then her eyes widened in thought, and she turned to face Karon.

“Master...?” she began, her voice sweet and hopeful.

“Yes, Promise?”

“Do you think he'll get brain damage?”

                                *********************************************

The weather remained clear as the group made their way back to their employers. Beneath the desert sun, Trixie had grown even more sunburned, her skin shifting into a copper hue; However, both Karon and Promise had retained their ashen-gray complexion. The winged spirit-turned-flesh had been like that even before she had become corporeal. Karon himself had grown into it more and more ever since the events in the soul eater's mansion.

Whereas once he had been pale from lack of sunlight, or burned red from desert suns, his skin had now grown into a permanent complexion of light gray and white. It hadn't been pleasant to discover, once he noticed the change in the mirror—but it was just one of several changes, and one more easily accepted than others.

The food and water they had brought along was enough, but just barely, for them all to get back to the monestary, where the monks had accepted their return with great rejoicing.

However, the celebratory atmosphere had been cut short once they'd realized the group had the culprit with them, rather than his head in a bag. They had accepted Karon's rather vague explanation that his punishment would be administrated outside of their world, underneath another authority than the monks themselves. An authority and judgement that was far more gruesome than any mere group of mortals could comprehend.

They had accepted their hasty payment—two small urns filled to the brim with gemstones and jewels—and then departed. They stopped just beyond its immediate border, on the single road present in the area, and waited for nightfall. When it arrived, they started walking, the stars the only light present to guide their way.

As they walked, Karon reached out with his senses, bridging an invisible connection between any road bathed in starlight, and the road. Their surroundings seemed to blur and shift unsteadily as time passed on, and eventually settled into a landscape of rolling hills bathed in moonlight, and a graveled dirt road leading into a familiar tavern.

The four of them stopped, and three turned to face one.

“This is where we part ways, Leti,” Karon said, and folded his arms across his chest.

“Nagrosh,” the man spat, and looked out at Karon from underneath the heavy cowl of his robe.

“Whatever. You know the deal; you start making trouble again, It'll get back to us eventually, and we'll show up to kick your ass and get paid for it.”

“One day, trickster,” the man gurgled the name like it was a fell poison, ”one day, I will look down on your bleeding body, and wrench the last drop of suffering out of your worthless life!”

Karon remained unfazed by the threat, unlike Promise, who hissed and looked ready to lunge at the man. He noticed, and involuntarily took a step back, before forcing himself to stand his ground, and turned his gaze to meet the trickster's without flinching.

Karon went on, unperturbed. “Considering our history, I find that rather unlikely. This is what, the... huh, I actually have forgotten how many times we've been hired to clean up your shit. Trix, do you have any idea how many times we're at?” he turned to the silver-haired woman and asked.

“Too many,” she told him in a tone that could freeze water.

“Heard her, Leti? Too many!” Karon exclaimed, and threw up his hands in a show of mock horror. Then his face turned solemn, and he walked over to Leti until their faces were only inches away, and he spoke.

“Leti, this life isn't for you. You don't have the skill or knowledge for it. You are a dabbler, trying to usurp forces you can't control, don't understand—and most of all, haven't earned.”

“You're one to speak, trickster. Everything you have, you have either tricked into your possession, or stolen.”

Karon smiled a bitter smile. “You're right about that; in part, at least. But you will have to trust me when I say that you don't want that fate for yourself.”

Leti snarled. “You think I'm fool enough to trust the words of a trickster?”

“I think you're fool enough to need directions to wipe your own nose. You make your own decisions, but I won't always be there to spare you. Eventually someone else will grow tired of you... or Promise might decide killing you is for my own good no matter what I directly say. Go home, Leti, take up gardening or something else more suited to you.”

“My name is Nagrosh the Dark!” the man shrieked defiantly, spit literally flying out of his mouth.

“No, you're not. You're Leti, the man who learned a few tricks from his grandmother, and dream too big and too darkly to know the price reality demands for such things. You don't belong in the Great Game, Leti; in it, you will always be a loser.”

Karon turned around and left him standing there, spitting furious as he watched the two females fall in behind him, and as they all vanished inside the tavern.

"It's kinda funny when we know he's just gonna sit outside the door fuming like a little bitch, until he can hitchhike with another unwary person to cart him off to the next world."

"While we sit pretty in here, sipping spirits with the higher powers and running our hands through all the sweet, sweet loot."

"..."

"...What?"

"Do you think we're being too spiteful?"

"Hmm... nah."

Inside the tavern, the trio were settling down into their usual booth. Trixie placed the two urns she had strapped to her back on the floor, then settled down while shrugging her shoulders.

“Not bad pay. Of course, it wouldn't have been much of a comfort if we'd been burned alive,” she pointed out.

“But we didn't. All thanks to Promise, here?” Karon said, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder, but then swiftly pulled back his hand and gave her an encouraging smile instead.

The former spirit was still new to being flesh and blood, and had a tendency to react violently to physical contact from everyone with the exception of Karon, and when he touched her she had reacted instead in... other ways. And he did not want to encourage that, especially not when Trixie was near, and a certain god-killing sword was within reach.

“It was my pleasure, master, but I would be thankful if we never do that again. I still feel like my wings might fall off at any moment,” she said and winced, then gave a far-away look. “Pain is so different when you're a meatbag."

“Noted, we're not going to strain your wings' abilities to fly again,” Karon said with a slight bow of his head.

“I can't actually fly,” Promise muttered with a blush and scraped a lone dagger-claw against the table.

“But you glide with such grace,” Karon objected with a grin.

Promise's wings ruffled and a pleased expression spread over her face. It never ceased to astonish Karon how quick she was to pick up on his sarcasm when it was directed at others, but somehow completely blind when she was the recipient.

Trixie was not, however, and she hid her smile behind a raised hand, than rested her chin on it and asked, “So, should we order something? I think it's common to celebrate a job well done, and for all we know this might be some kind of anniversary for having stopped that little n'wah.”

Karon didn't ask what the last part meant; he had grown used to Trixie's expanded and alien vocabulary. Instead he merely nodded, and said, “Sounds proper. Take a few of the better stones with you, I think it's time to balance out our tab.”

Trixie flashed him a smile, and collected a few of the rarer gemstones from the urns; diamonds and sapphires, and other more exotic ones that only had long alien names to them. She didn't need to ask what they wanted, for they all knew each other too well for that. She strode over to the bar at the far end of the tavern and greeted the old man that stood there, who with a grunt produced plates upon plates with food, and bottles to go along with them.

“How are you feeling, master?” Promise asked carefully, her voice sweet, but with a slight hint of worry present.

“I'm hungry,” he replied sullenly, and sighed.

“Food is coming,” she replied with a voice that said she knew full well what he really meant.

“It's been five months since I last... ate,” he said, and with a wince a memory came flooding back into his mind.

She stood facing the two warrior-mystics and their winged servant, joy shooting like cracks of lightning through the sluggish blue blood that pumped through her veins. They had performed their task with resourcefulness and skill, even though their methods seemed a bit strange.

But it didn't matter. The task was finished, and now the great Prize was in her three-fingered paws. The payment was handed over, a scroll containing instructions for magic well beyond her ability to perform or even understand, so in her mind, the deal was a very profitable one.

Though something was wrong. Even with her mind giddy with the possibilities resting in her near future, she could sense the restlessness in the leader of the trio. The strange bird-ape looking creature was fidgeting, and an almost feverish look was upon his face.

She dismissed it at first. She didn't know the creatures well, and it might be possible everything was in the normal order of things. She extended her talons to touch the forehead of the leader, as was the custom of her kind to express gratitude.

But the moment the talons touched flesh, when contact was established, something rose up from inside of him. In the dark center of the man's eyes a true blackness opened up, and something reached out from within, and into her own being. Greedy claws grasped hold of her, not her body, but something even more precious.

She couldn't move, and neither could he. A link had been formed, where a yawning chasm bridged them, it was an emptiness stretching out between them, and she realized it was trying to drag her into itself.

She resisted, strained against the emptiness, the hunger, with all her might. But it was stronger than her. It broke down her will, tore it to pieces and sucked her life, her soul out of her. With a soundless cry her body was turned into a dried, and empty, husk, and everything turned dark.

The memory ended. The last memory of a small and adorable creature Karon had actually liked for the brief time they had known each other. He hadn't meant to devour her, to consume her soul. But the hunger had been pressing against his mind, the wounds in him had opened their wide jaws, encouraged by the death and bloodshed that had been spilled as the trio had taken on their first job since the events of the soul eater's mansion.

A touch had been all that was needed, a single brief connection where the joy the creature had felt, the thrilling forces of life had been radiating out of her. And with the instinct of a hungry and wounded animal, the hunger had lashed out and drawn her in screaming.

The worst part of it was that it wasn’t his memory, it was hers. She was a part of him now, consumed and shredded into digestible little pieces, a soul turned into energy and harnessed for power. All she had been was now his, and the price was that she no longer existed. As Leti had said, some things Karon had not earned, some things he'd stolen.

“Don't be so hard on yourself. You didn't mean it.” A dry voice whispered inside his mind.

“Doesn't matter, it happened all the same. And it's going to keep happening unless I restrain myself.”

“Yeah, because starving yourself is going to keep that hunger sated, right? Not like its going to increase until you accidentally devour Trixie or Promise, right?”

“That would never happen. I can't devour anyone's soul if I can't overpower their will first, or they will just resist me. Trix and Promise are both too strong and too damned stubborn for me. And I'm not starving myself, I'm... holding out for someone that deserves it.”

“No one deserves what we do. Nothing to do but accept that and start keeping ourselves fed and the hunger manageable.”

Karon didn't respond, but Promise caught the look of dread that passed over his face. But it lasted just a brief instant, and then disappeared, leaving only a smile and no trace it had ever been present.

“Master, do you want me to get you someone to really eat?” Promise asked carefully.

Karon's mouth twitched with a real smile, and he shook his head. “No, ordinary food will have to suffice. Don't worry, Promise. Soon we'll find someone that needs to be eaten, and most likely there will be people in need of killing too once that happens.”

Promise brightened up at the prospect, then brightened up further when Trixie returned with two trays laden with food and drink. The table fell silent as the three of them focused their attention on shoveling as much of it into their mouths as they could, or at least, two of them did.

Though Karon ate little, he drank all the more, soon emptying an entire bottle of a suspiciously vibrant yellow color. Yet somehow, he seemed to remain mostly unaffected by the strong liquor. Trixie on the other hand was eating like it was her last meal, emptying tray after tray of food with a determined look on her face.

Promise was focused on devouring her plates as well, but her face contorted and shifted into a different expression with every new bite, as sensations of taste mixed in her mouth. Karon glanced at her every now and then with a look of wry amusement, wondering how long it would actually take for her to grow used to all the things it meant to be corporeal.

Karon was the first to grow bored of the 'celebration', and pushed his trays away with a hint of disgust on his face. Trixie looked up briefly from her own food, and a crinkle appeared between her brows; then she shrugged and dug into Karon's food as well, saving whatever argument she could come up with until after she was done.

The sourceless music drifted across the tavern room, bouncing off the walls and creating a chorus of sounds, and sometimes if Karon's ears did not deceive him, voices.

Slowly, the eternal peacefulness of the tavern settled into Karon, calming the battle between the hunger and fear raging on inside of him. Eyelids growing heavier, he glanced back at his two companions, and saw that like him, they were trapped in the serenity of the tavern, and looked ready to doze off.

“We should go upstairs,” he said while forcing back a yawn.

Trixie turned half-closed eyes towards him, an annoyed look passing over her face, and then she stood up with a loud squeal from her armor. She took a few tired steps, the immense weight of the alien metal her body was encased in pushing down on her. Karon followed with Promise, the latter looking far more invigorated by the 'celebrations' than the other two.

“Maybe I'm just getting old.”

“Hard to tell, we've kinda always looked like shit.”

“You say the sweetest things.”

The trio passed by the bar and went up the stairs, Promise passing by the other two as they dragged themselves forward. The winged woman was several steps ahead of them when she opened the door to their rooms, and disappeared inside.

A mere second passed, before Trixie and Karon heard her shrill cry of outrage, then Promise came flying out of the door and smashed into the opposite wall. Trixie had already sunk down into a crouch with her blade flashed out and held out with its tip steadily pointed towards the now open door.

Karon wasn't as quick, and instead stood stunned as he observed Promise stumbling back up on her feet, and stared back into the room with a wary, and outraged, expression.

“Let's consider this for a moment. We are in what might just be the safest place in our universe, with a host that at the very least ranks in the top five most powerful beings in existence as well. HE, is also someone that frowns upon violence in his House; which leads to the question of who, or what, might be so powerful, and brazen, that they would defy that creed and just throw Promise like that without immediately finding themselves kicked out straight into a black hole?”

Karon took a second to consider it.

“We're fucked this time.”

“Yup, let's see who it is. Maybe someone has finally come to erase the big bad soul eater from creation, and the big guy doesn't want to stand in the way of justice.”

“We could always run?”

“And get, what? Two, three steps at most maybe before getting caught?”

“Well then... if I'm gonna die, I'm gonna make sure I get in a few snarky last comments. I might even go so far as to criticize the method of execution.”

Karon put a hand on Trixie's shoulder, who in turn didn't move, but relaxed slightly, letting him take the lead. She followed behind, still crouched low, ready to lunge forward at any given moment.

Promise remained staring back into the room, obviously wanting to throw herself back into the fight, and obviously intimidated enough to hesitate. Karon gave her a crooked smile, then turned and walked into the room with his chin held up high and a haughty look on his face.

Karon was expecting maybe a blazing angel of pure golden light. Or maybe a hungry, walking abyss ready to drag him down some literal hellhole.

Instead he found a grizzled old man sitting in an armchair, white of hair and beard, dressed in a great brown fur coat that made him look much like a bear.

"Varsif." Karon sighed in relief.

The man tipped his mug of ale back and downed it in one go. He looked Karon up and down with a critical eye, then twisted his mouth.

“What happened to the hat?”

Karon blinked, and he found his mouth opening automatically to respond at the sound of the gruff voice.

“Lost it to a soul eater.”

The wizard grunted, then narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Did more than lose your hat to it, I see.”

Karon grimaced, and squirmed slightly where he stood. He knew better than to try and hide something from the old man; it just wouldn't work.

“Which is just awesome since we're a trickster, and we kinda run on deception.”

“I know, just... awesome.”

Karon swallowed hard when he noticed Varsif's eye crinkle with amusement, and he realized that the old wizard could probably hear what went on in his mind just as well as anything else. Beside Karon, Trixie had sheathed her sword, and walked over to a nearby chair and sat down in it.

Varsif gave her a similarly appraising look, then nodded his head slightly in respect. “Looks like you've grown a bit since last. Two legs suits you.”

Trixie smiled a wolfish grin. “I discovered the joy of eating meat and was hooked for life.”

Varsif answered the grin, and Karon looked between the two uncomfortably. Nearby, Promise had the same look of outrage and wariness on her face, and her fingers twitched, the dagger-claws greedy for blood.

Karon noticed and waved her down, not wanting to touch her and turn the situation even more awkward. Varsif noticed, of course, and looked at the former spirit a lot harder than the other two.

“That might not have been one of your brightest ideas,” the wizard huffed as he kept his eyes on Promise.

“It didn't exactly go down like that,” Karon winced.

Varsif grunted and brought his mug, which had somehow refilled on its own, back up to his lips, and drank deeply.

“Well,” he said after he put it back down, “I hope you know what you're doing. She is your responsibility now.”

Karon nodded, ready to defend Promise if needed. Though when no further recrimination came, he walked over to a chair and dragged it so he could sit in front of Varsif, with Trixie to his right. Promise wasn't exactly built for chairs with her wings, so she did as she commonly did and folded her legs down under herself and sat on the floor to Karon's left.

“So, why are you here, Varsif?” Karon asked, getting straight to the point. The old man would appreciate that.

The wizard leaned back and stroked his beard thoughtfully for a few seconds before replying, and when he did it was with a tired voice.

“It's about Lyra.”

Karon's heart skipped a beat. His eyes narrowed at the implications. Varsif wouldn't come all the way to the Walker's Rest for nothing.

“What about her?” Karon asked carefully, and Trixie leaned forward, her brows knitted in concern.

“She's in danger, and I can't help her.”

Karon looked over at Trixie's expression, seeing the same look of alarm as he had, then faced Varsif again.

“Tell me everything.”

           ***************************************************************

The swirling vortex of energies subsided, and in the split second it took for his eyes to adjust to the new setting, something hit Karon like a freight train—a smell. Pine forests and tall mountains, frost on the ground and the smell of distant snow in the wind.

He drew it in deeply, and felt the tension that had grown to be like a second nature to him melt away. His shoulders slumped down, and his head rose a little higher as his sight returned to him.

It was early spring, and some piles of snow still clung to the areas remote even to escape the warmth of the sun. Few clouds grazed the sky, leaving light of the dawn all the brighter as the forest was waking up. The dark green of the forest was returning, mixing with the brown and gray of tree and rock.

“Everything okay, Karon?” Trixie asked with furrowed brows.

Karon looked over at his companions with eyes half-closed in bliss. Trixie looked like she usually did, gaze sharp and always scanning for danger, a hand close within reach of her sword. No matter where they went, or how much they endured, there was always an element to her that seemed to expect a blow at any moment. And now she stared at him suspiciously, not understanding, and Karon couldn't help but smile.

She couldn't understand. What it was like to return... home, even if he had been a different creature then entirely. He no longer feared the haunting ghost of Erik and his tragedies, hovering over his shoulder like some specter whose only purpose was to remind him of his mistakes. Karon had no trouble making new ones; turning into a walking abomination that sustained itself by tearing apart and eating souls made accidentally burning ones family alive seem tame.

No, he was home. It was the smell that had made him understand that, like an old friend once forgotten suddenly showing up to embrace you. Trixie couldn't understand what that meant, she hated Equestria, her old home, and her old self.

It was a bitter hatred, and where Karon had always sensed an underlying feeling of resentment because of what she had endured back on her home world, Trixie's feelings had intensified a hundredfold during her time in... whatever that distant world she'd been trapped in had been. She never wanted to talk about it, but she did seem to somehow find a way to blame Equestria for it.

And that was why Trixie was staring at him suspiciously, unable to comprehend why Karon was suddenly letting his guard down like this. Why this world, this place, was so different from the hundreds of other worlds they'd stepped out of a swirling vortex into.

“Nothing's wrong, Trix. It's just nice to be back,” Karon reassured her. He couldn't avoid noticing the flicker of worry in her eyes at his response.

Promise hadn't noticed the small change in Karon's posture, as she was busy sniffing the air while her wide eyes darted around, trying to take everything in at once. Someone that didn't know Promise might have said she looked like a innocent child while doing so, but Karon had seen the same similar look of thrilling discovery on her face the first few times she had slashed someone open with her dagger-claws.

With that thought, some of the old tension returned, and small knots reasserted themselves in his muscles. In The Great Game of power and destiny, it didn't do to trust appearances. And home didn't necessarily mean safe.

Varsif had already started down the narrow forest trail, barely visible in the undergrowth of blueberry bushes, and moss covered boulders. Karon went after him, Trixie following close behind and Promise trailing behind last, wings fluttering every time she spotted something curious.

The trail cut across deep areas where the trees grew so thick that it was nearly pitch black, until it opened up to a carefully hidden valley, flanked by steep outcroppings of rock, and trees grown like a wall to keep anyone from stumbling in accidentally.

Karon could also feel power, and very subtle magic, permeating the air.

It was like a barely-perceptible touch upon ones mind, nudging one away, suggesting everything this way was uninteresting, not worthy of being noticed. It was so fine that even Karon could hardly detect it, and he was 'looking' at it from the inside. From the outside it wouldn't be detected by anything less than someone of the utmost power and skill.

Trixie's senses might be very sharp on the physical plane, but her sense for the soft magics stretched only so far as to mediocre. She remained unaware of the magic protecting the place, but her face showed approval at the remote location, and the steps that had been taken to discourage intruders.

Promise couldn't sense the energies the way Karon did, but she could taste them. And when she stepped over the invisible threshold and became aware of the magic, her face started to glow, and twisted into the expression of a child in a candy shop.

Karon stopped to watch her, observing as her eyes traced the boundaries of the energy field, tasting its weaving and complexity. She seemed to be shivering with delight, until eventually her eyes turned to Karon's, two orbs of deepest blue meeting glowing amber.

Varsif banged open the wooden door on his porch and turned back towards Promise and Karon. Beside him stood Trixie, with her arms crossed and an irritated look on her face.

“You here for sightseeing or rescuing a friend?” Varsif's voice boomed, before he turned and went into the wooden cottage.

Trixie followed him inside, and Promise hurried after with Karon coming in last, closing the door behind him. The inside was one big room, sparsely-decorated with wooden furniture, and a huge round table dominating the middle of it, easily able to accomodate twelve or thirteen people at once. Papers, books and scrolls were strewn across its surface, and Varsif hastily scooped up entire armfuls and carried it away.

Trixie, Promise and Karon took a seat at the table, and Varsif joined them once it had been cleared of all the clutter. Then the atmosphere turned solemn, as the old wizard brought a hand up to his face and sighed wearily.

“As I told you before, Lyra has gotten in deep with a group of sorcerers. She runs off for weeks and months to all kinds of places constantly, that's not unusual. But I always send a few spirits to keep an unseen eye on her. Three days ago she was found by some sorcerers in London, and the spirits tracking her disappeared just a short while after that.”

Karon drummed his fingers against the table, his mouth a thin slit and brows furrowed in anger. Leti was an example of a wannabe sorcerer; lots of ambition, little talent. The real deal was different. The real deal was the earth-cracking, nightmare spawn of what happens when a human gets too much mojo and no moral restraint or oaths to keep them back.

“Kinda like us, then, but without the charm and snappish sense of style.”

“And our terrible looks. I bet a real sorcerer is all James Bond villainous: 'No, Mr. Karon, I expect you to die and suffer eternally in this rusty bucket I will bind your soul to before dumping into the ocean.' All suave and power and secret lairs, and lots and lots of sex, too, probably.”

“We're clearly in the wrong business.”

“Too late to change, now.”

“No it's not; we're like a sneeze away from eternal damnation.”

“We've got the attention of an angel, and we live in the house of... you know.”

“Some people would call that a challenge.”

Trixie's eyes flickered from side to side as she considered the situation, then a look of confusion settled in and she pointed a finger at Varsif.

“Why haven't you just divined her location? I can't do that stuff, but Karon gets lucky sometimes with it,” she said, ignoring the fake look of hurt he gave her, “so you should have no trouble finding Lyra and getting her out yourself.”

Varsif growled a bit. “I have. I know where she is. I can't go in and get her, though; this group is talented enough to sense me coming way ahead. They wouldn't stand a chance, and they might decide to do something to Lyra once they start panicking. I have a reputation for not going soft on their kind.”

Varsif turned to Karon, a hint of reproach appearing on the old man's face, before he went on.

“A trickster, on the other hand, they might actually like having a visit from; especially one that proves itself by showing up at their doorstep without being detected first. You're better at that than I will ever be; I'm no sneak. And now that you've become a soul eater... they'll think it's Christmas.”

Karon nodded, understanding the situation, far better than Promise and Trixie could even. He understood what it meant to commence such an operation in a very heavily-populated city on Earth, where magic kept itself hidden, and where a sorcerer cabal vs. the trickster super-duper adventurers' group grudge match in Piccadilly circus just wasn't allowed. Unless they cleaned up after themselves.

“And we don't want the powers that's responsible for keeping the bump-in-the-night side of things hidden to look at us the wrong way.”

“No, bad enough if we do this somewhere behind the scenes. Then we might just potentially mess up the weather across half the world and make it snow in the middle east or something.”

“The elemental spirits can handle that, it's their job.”

“Still, they might be pissed. Having to clock overtime ever since the industrial revolution doesn't make for happy spirits.”

“God help this planet if they ever decide to form a union.”

“Right, a job needing discretion and wit. That leaves Trixie out of it.”

The woman in question sputtered indignantly, then flicked her hand towards him sharply, and a purple orb struck him in the blink of an eye. Karon's upper body crashed forward into the table hard, before his body slid down to the floor, where he remained, groaning but suddenly too heavy to move himself.

“Interesting. I used to just cuff him over the head,” Varsif said with a rumbling laugh.

“I like getting creative,” Trixie explained with an angelic smile.

Promise looked ready to leap at Trixie, wings tucked in behind her and dagger-claws twitching dangerously. However, she hesitated. She knew Karon had forbidden her to harm Trixie, repeating the order many times.

The spell wore off, and Karon's body returned to its usual weight. With a grunt he heaved himself off the floor and brushed nonexistent dust from his sleeves with a carefully-constructed look of nonchalance.

“Right, Trixie can come.”

“And here comes the hard part.”

“But, I'm afraid there's no way you can join us, Promise,” he added, then swallowed hard.

The words didn't seem to register first, instead the former spirit kept looking at Karon with an eager glint in her eyes. The other three of them kept staring at the woman, waiting for her to react to Karon's proclamation. But she never did.

“Ehh, Promise, did you hear what I said?”

“What?” she asked.

“I said, 'you can't come along for this one'.”

She stared back at him, looking confused.

“I don't understand. You want me to trail behind and cover an escape route? Lay an ambush? Pick off sentries?”

Varsif gave another rumbling laugh. “I can't fault her devotion.”

Karon winced, then looked at Promise with pity, while Trixie was looking at her with smug satisfaction.

“No, I mean you can't come with at all. You're gonna have to stay here. In the house. With Varsif.”

Realization started to sink in, and Promise's face underwent a very gradual change, where it morphed from confusion into a look of complete and utter disbelief. And then something impossible happened.

“No,” Promise said, shaking her head in denial.

“Promise, you've gotta understand. This place is insular; it's like Valvek, Ohja or that world we first met Leti on. Magic keeps in the background, and most people here are unaware of its presence or very suspicious towards it. There are no other beings walking around openly here besides the humans, and someone like you would stand out too much. Trix and I can disguise ourselves.”

“No! Master, I can't let you fight alone!” She kept on shaking her head.

“Promise, I get that this is hard for you. And I know you are itching for a fight; I understand what it's like to deal with a hunger that doesn't want to let up. But we can't change this unless you want to chop off your wings and shear off your claws,” Karon told her.

For a second, for one dreadful second, Karon thought he saw Promise actually consider giving up her wings and claws for him. He quickly hurried over to her, putting both hands on her shoulder. Promise instantly shivered at his touch, and she stared up at him with an unreadable expression.

“That, by the way, isn't an option. As your master I command you to remain here and not cause trouble. I'm sure Varsif could find something to entertain you with while we're gone,” Karon said, and shot the wizard a pleading look.

He huffed, and grunted something that sounded like, “Guess I might be able to find something.”

Promise's head dropped low, and she nodded her consent silently. Karon gave one last squeeze of her shoulder, then let go and walked back to his seat. He sat down, then turned his eyes to Varsif.

“If you could give us an exact location of where they're holding Lyra, we can start going through ideas of getting there, and getting back with her. In the meantime, you got any less conspicuous clothes we can use?”

Varsif grunted. “For you, yeah. For her, not so lucky.”

Karon grunted, involuntarily falling back into copying his old teacher's mannerism. “Then we'll have to buy her something...”

Varsif rolled his eyes, then stalked over to a nearby dresser and got a roll of bundled-up euros. “Here, I got a lot of this lying around. I might be able to teleport you somewhere north of London without attracting attention. The fay cause energy disturbances there all the time, anyway. The rest of the trip is up to you.”

Karon withdrew with Trixie to a corner, where he changed his red robe and black pants and leather boots for jeans, a white t-shirt with a dark gray jacket and sneakers.

“James Bond can go suck it!”

Trixie was looking him up and down with a poorly-concealed smile on her face, and Karon wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Like what ya see?”

“You certainly look less... imposing,” she answered.

Karon grinned in return. “You realize there is no way that you can keep that armor or sword of yours on, right?”

Trixie scowled, but gave a curt nod of understanding. They would have to go into a store somewhere and get her something a little less renaissance-faire, and a little more action girl of the 21st century kind.

“I can almost see the look on the customs guard's face when he sees why the metal detector went off.”

“'Please empty your pockets, keys, loose change— HOLY SHIT!”

“Now I'm stuck imagining Trix in a tight leather catsuit.”

“I wonder if she would be able to do all those kinds of slow-mo jumps and wall runs and everything. But instead of guns she'd lay waste with a god-killing sword. That might possibly be even more awesome.”

“Huh? Ohh, sorry I'm still stuck on Trix in a leather catsuit.”

“Karon,” Trixie asked with a slightly disturbed look on her face.

“What?” he asked as the mental image was torn from him.

“Why is there drool coming out of your mouth?”

“There's not,” he mumbled, quickly turning away while wiping his mouth.

Five minutes later they were sitting at the table again, with a map of London spread out before them, marked with a very distinct red X. It marked a square of apartment complexes, just another unmentionable block of buildings in a city of hundreds of others just the same. It was located southeast of central London; close enough to the mass of people, yet far enough away for them to be able to reach the outskirts pretty quickly if need be.

Above the little complex, there stood, in tiny letters along the road leading into it from the larger Kender street, 'Godley close'.

“How certain are you this is the right place?” Trixie asked Varsif, tapping a finger against the X.

Varsif nodded gravely, “It's no mistake. That's where the sorcerers are keeping her, and so it is most likely they are all gathered there as well.”

Varsif's eyes turned to Karon. “Getting to them without raising any alarms will be your job. But it will be far more difficult getting out with Lyra in one piece. What little I've been able to gather about this group is that they're cunning and don't waste time on unnecessary displays of power. They'll have traps and contingency plans ready.”

“Do you have any friends or allies you can call on to help with this?” Trixie asked.

“In London, no. In the UK, yes, there's a few in Wales and Ireland. And there's always Jörmungandr in the loch to the north. However, a wyrm and fay wouldn't do for an operation in London, and the human ones...”

Varsif made a sound in his throat that should only be possible by chewing on gravel.

“The human ones would never agree to work with a soul eater.”

Promise hissed angrily, Karon himself only scowled, then looked down at his hands. Maybe he should try and permanently stain them with babies' blood just to live up to his image.

“Then we'll deal with this on our own! We've handled worse before,” Karon exclaimed confidently.

“An entire cabal of real sorcerers? Let's see: have we fought against any gods lately... no. Not even demigods, actually. Hmmm, no I think the only thing that might have topped this is that thing with the soul eaters, and we all know how that went.”

“Shut up.”

Trixie supported him with an easy nod, her face showing no concern. Promise was carving lines into the table with her dagger-claws, wearing an expression of pain and denial. Karon sighed, then put a hand on the map, tracing a finger along the described path as he spoke.

“Varsif will drop us off to the north. We'll be taking the train into the heart of London, then continue on foot. First chance we get, we'll acquire new clothes for Trix. When we get to the sorcerer's place I will scout it out very carefully, then once we've got some measure of their power and defenses, we'll make the approach. The smart thing would be to get them on our side, or at least make it seem like we're on theirs. We might be able to locate Lyra and sneak her out, if that's the case. Otherwise, we're looking at a quick smash-and-grab.”

“You grab, I smash,” Trixie said with a grin.

“You're too good for the whelp, you know that?” Varsif told her with a chuckle.

“Hard not to notice,” she quipped, and tossed her hair.

“How about we focus on the job,” Karon muttered.

The rest of the discussion passed by quickly. While Varsif and Promise went outside, Karon remained inside and helped Trixie out of her armor. When it was done, it was put down next to a gigantic pile of junk, toys, electrical equipment and random wares stacked next to a bunk bed. Of which the bottom bed was completely covered in stacks of books.

Varsif had referred to the corner as 'Lyra's scrapyard'. They carefully nudged the armor a little more away from it, finally putting the sword neatly on top of the stack. Trixie was looking at it with sadness, and to Karon, she seemed a lot more vulnerable now, and smaller. He wasn't used to seeing her like this beside when they were going to bed.

She put on her blue robe, which now appeared several sizes too large, and they went outside, where Promise was busy sulking, doing her best to shoot Karon looks of sorrow for being abandoned, complete with an attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“Girl, please, I spent a year with anthropomorphic ponies with eyes as big as dinner plates.”

“Don't be mean, it's Promise. Ever since her creation we've barely spent a day or so apart, except for one occasion...”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“I bet she does, too.”

They gathered in a circle, and Varsif held out both his arms, waiting for Trixie and Karon to join hands with him so they could get going.

“Wait, I'll need a minute with Promise first,” Karon said, and motioned for her to follow him aside.

They stopped at the far end of the little glade, where the trees rose up to block out the rest of the world. Karon sighed deeply when Promise turned a grief-stricken face towards him.

“Seems like she's convinced we're doomed without her.”

“Promise, I know this hurts, but there's no way around it. You will stay here, and you are not to make any trouble with Varsif. And stop looking so heartbroken—this is just one trip without you. We'll be gone maybe a few days, a week at most, then get back with Lyra.”

“You don't understand,” she murmured, her voice sad.

Karon cocked his head, eyebrows raised slightly. “Meaning what?”

Promise whined, a slight sound of pain as her nose wrinkled, and squinted her eyes while staring down at the ground. Karon didn't need to be sensitive to energies to feel how Promise's thoughts were racing, it was written plainly on her face. And it was obvious it also pained her to do so.

Eventually, her face relaxed as an irritated sound escaped her lips. She looked into Karon's eyes, an angry glint present in her gaze he had never seen before.

“I can't explain it!” she spat, and stared at him like it was his fault.

“Why don't you at least try,” Karon asked, not quite sure if he should be worried or amused.

“No, I can't...I...you...” she huffed, then a look of outrage came upon her face, and Karon decided he should probably be worried.

“What?” Karon asked carefully.

Promise hissed and growled, then stomped her foot in the ground. “I don't know any profanities!”

“Shit,” he offered helpfully.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Promise screamed, stomping her foot with each word.

Karon took a careful step back, keeping a careful eye on the woman's dagger-claws, which she waved around in wild gesticulations. Thinking it wise to remain silent, Karon waited until she had vented her frustration, then took a step forward and peered into the woman's eyes, then he relaxed, and with a push of his will, he stared into her mind.

Feeling would have been a more accurate descriptor, but the brain easily translated the information into whatever sense Karon wished for. And so a network of trickling streams of energy appeared around Promise, the beating pulse of her aura, her spirit. The thoughts and emotions rose and fell in displays of vibrant colors, like the weather in the sky, but sped up in rapid motion with hours and days passing by in seconds.

Karon didn't watch for any specific energy; it was the patterns that were important. It was the pattern that would reveal what the reason behind Promise's behavior was. However, as the seconds passed, and Karon became aware that physically Promise had stopped her tirade and was staring at him, nothing apparent stood out. Within Promise there was simply a cacophony of emotions and thoughts screaming, ranting against on another, without any real reason that he could detect.

“Yeah, I can see you're having some... issues,” Karon told her.

Promise's eyes narrowed, then she cleared her throat, and a little of her old self seemed to reassert itself.

“Well, I don't want to inconvenience you, master, I just—”

Karon held up a hand. “I get it, you can't find words to describe it. So how about you simply think about it some more, and maybe when I get back you've found a way to tell me what this is all about.”

Promise sighed and turned her face towards the sky, then sighed deeply and shrugged her shoulders.

“Yes, master.”

The two of them returned to the others, and with a nod of farewell to Promise, Karon joined hands with Trixie and Varsif, and the three of them vanished.

The shift was instantaneous. Karon hardly felt it; one moment they were in the glade bathed in sunlight, the other they were standing in a dingy back alley with a gray overcast sky above them.

“We're about half a day north of London by train,” Varsif said, and headed towards the end of the alley with Karon and Trixie following behind him. “You should get some clothes, then take the next train available.”

The exited the alley and come out into a cobbled street, flanked by second story houses with little windows on the ground floor, offering a view of the wares the various stores sold. Varsif pointed to the right. “That's a pub I'm familiar with. I will be spending most of my days there until you return. If I'm not there when you get back, just ask the barkeep; I will make sure there's a note saying where you might find me otherwise.”

Karon nodded, then looked over at Trixie. She eyed the buildings and the relatively-empty streets with a critical gaze, then turned to Karon and nodded. “Let's go,” was all she said, and together the two of them veered off to the left while Varsif headed right.

It didn't take long before they came across a clothing store and went inside. The interior of it was much the same as Karon remembered Earth's stores as; lots of fluorescent lights and the sections neatly separated with stupidly-obvious signs and pictures.

Trixie went over the female selection, twisting her mouth in disgust every now and then, greatly bemoaning the fact that not a single item had any kind of protective material, hidden pockets for weapons, or even enough of a quality to hold more than the most rudimentary of enchantments.

“Stop thinking like a warrior, Trix,” Karon told her as he stood outside the dressing room, his eyes fixed on a clock high up on the wall. They had arrived before lunch, and now it was a good bit into the afternoon.

“Then what am I supposed to think like?” a snide voice answered back.

“An infiltrator, a spy or sneak, someone that doesn't want her enemies to know she can fight. We want these people to know us as competent people, but not too competent; enough to be useful and inspire respect, but not so much as to actually be considered a threat."

A growl issued forth from inside the booth. Apparently Trixie did not approve of such tactics.

“These are all ridiculous!” Trixie exclaimed loudly and slammed the door open, letting Karon and everyone else nearby get a good look of her in nothing but her underwear as she stalked out with a furious expression on her face.

“Trix, go inside. I'll get some new stuff for you to try out,” Karon muttered.

“What!?” Trixie asked, holding out her arms.

“People on this world are stingy about nudity and stuff,” he answered with a tone of strained tolerance in his voice.

“But I'm not even naked,” she pointed out with a frown.

“You're close enough, especially for Brits,” Karon said and ushered her inside again, then went in search of new clothes.

“Maybe we should try and find another store. Like a goth place or whatever the kids call it these days. You know, leather and spikes and stuff. I bet Trix would love that.”

“You just want to get her into a leather catsuit, don't you?”

“You say that like it's a bad thing.”

“Focus, please. Don't forget that the reason why we're doing this is because Lyra is in trouble. We shouldn't waste any more time than is needed before saving her.”

“You know there is no need to rush things. Either she is already dead, which is wasteful and not what these guys would do according to their rep; or they're using her for something spooky, maybe tapping her aura, or holding her until they can find a proper use for her.”

“Yeah, but still...”

“I get it, you want to see her again.”

Gathering his arms full of another pile of clothes, Karon returned to Trixie and gave them to her, silently praying there would be something she could approve of among them.

Half an hour later, and an eternity of listening to complaints, Karon let out a breath of relief when Trixie came out from the dressing room with a bundle of clothes in her arms.

“These will just have to do,” she said, and together they went and bought them, ignoring the looks the cashier was giving the odd pair. They went back to the dressing rooms to allow Trixie to change, and when she exited, she did so dressed in black slackers, a pair of heavy leather boots, and a dark blue hoodie.

“Sexy,” Karon remarked dryly.

“I just can't see it,” Trixie replied with a shake of her head.

“Ohh, stop it. You don't look that bad.”

“I'm not talking about the clothes, I'm talking about you,” she said, and looked at him strangely.

“What do you mean?” Karon arched an eyebrow.

“What I mean is you, like one of these... people,” she told him, making a vague gesture meant to include everyone on the planet.

“Well, I didn't live or grow up in this country,” Karon pointed out, not quite sure if he should be offended or not.

“I still can't see it. This is nothing like the place I imagined could birth someone like you,” she explained.

“It didn't, really. I wasn't Karon back then. But it's still home,” he said a little wistfully.

Trixie shot him an annoyed look that said she didn't agree, but wasn't prepared to argue with him over it. Instead she nodded her out towards the exit. “Come on, we still have to get a train to Lomdom.”

“London,” Karon corrected, and the two of them went off in search of a train station.

With luck, and a bit of guidance from the locals, who all gave them equally weird stares, the duo made their way to the train station and got tickets for the next ride to London. They had to wait for a little less than an hour, and during that time Trixie kept walking around, exaggerating her movements as she tested out her new clothes.

Karon didn't bother to tell her she was making a scene, and that everyone else was trying to stare at her without it being obvious. It was far too amusing hearing the surprised gasps as she started to making tumbles on the stone floor, anyway.

Eventually she sat down on the wooden bench next to him, and grabbed the large sandwich he had bought at the station store, wolfing it down before he had a chance to object.

“I admit, this sport bra thing is a lot more comfortable than the wrappings I normally use,” she said with a mouth full of bread and meat.

“Why do you do that, anyway? Isn't it uncomfortable?”

“Of course it is, but the armor wasn't exactly made for a woman. I need to fit into it somehow,” she grumbled.

“Want to tell me how you got it?” Karon asked carefully, trying to make the question sound innocent.

Trixie froze, and a conflicted expression came over her. But she relented. “It's very rare, and very expensive. I only ever managed to find scraps, never laying an eye on a full suit of it except when I got attacked by... bad things. And they were always banished back to their own dimension when they died, taking their armor with them.”

“So how did you get it?”

“I met this old, really old wizard who had a full set on him. Wore it everywhere,” she said, and suddenly looked uncomfortable.

“So what, you killed him and took it?” Karon asked with a frown.

“No, I stole it,” she replied curtly.

“How?”

She sighed. “It involved getting him out of it first.”

Karon stared at her blankly.

Trixie groaned. “He was over four thousand years old, Karon; I never could have taken him in a fight. I had to use... other means,” she said, and her cheeks reddened slightly.

Realization ever so slowly dawned upon him.

“Eww,” Karon muttered.

“He was very virile for someone his age, hardly aged at all!” she exclaimed defensively.

“Eeeewww,” Karon repeated louder, looking slightly ill.

“You'd think for a guy with his own harem he'd be a bit worn out, but—”

“Lalalalala, not listening, not listening!” Karon shouted, covering his ears.

Trixie glared, then swatted him upside the head.

“Aouch!” Karon protested.

“Like you're any better. Just how many times did you decide to get it on with that soul eater trollop, hmm?” she asked, fixing him with burning lilac eyes.

“That was different. The situation wasn't exactly normal,” he said in a low voice.

“Oh. Well, good to know that your relationship with that sickly paled, gray-skinned, big-breasted, cleavage-showing, psychopathic bitch was a special one. Must be a relief that Promise got to inherit a body you know so well.”

“Abandon ship! Abandon ship! Tricksters and children first!”

“Trix, you know there's nothing like that between me and Promise,” Karon said calmly, ignoring the alarms blaring inside his head.

“You sure she knows that? Because I've seen the way she reacts to you touching her.”

“She's still getting used to physical sensation, that's all!" he said exasperatedly. "She's like a child putting things in her mouth to see what they taste like."

“You better be careful with what she decides she wants to put in her mouth,” she replied icily.

“Oh, snap!”

“Trix, please," he sighed, his shoulders slumping wearily. "You know I don't see her that way. She's more like a child to me than anything else."

“A child that's growing up awfully fast, Karon. She's got a matured body with very mature responses to these novel sensations she's experiencing. You can try and ignore the way she looks at you, but I refuse to.”

Karon rubbed his face, then rose from his seat at the sound of a train rolling into the platform. “Fine, I get it. But could we please maybe save this for later, maybe sometime after we've saved Lyra?”

Trixie stood up and stretched her limbs, then walked by him without saying anything. Karon rolled his eyes, and the two boarded the waiting passenger car and found their seats. Instinct took over for both of them, and they fell asleep almost as soon as they sat down, waking only once to show their tickets.

Infiltration mission or not, they would need to be rested when they arrived in case a fight couldn't be avoided, and they didn't need to exchange words to understand that. They arrived a few hours later, when the sun had set and evening was shifting into night.

The fact that dimensional travel wreaked merry havoc with sleep patterns was something Karon had discovered long ago. The day and night cycles could vary in the extremes, and where you might have just been in a world where the day was coming to an end, you might find yourself the next second on one where it was midday, or morning. Not to mention the different time flows one needed to keep an eye on.

As such, one nabbed sleep whenever there was opportunity for it. However, because of this it was unavoidable that sometimes they were forced to endure a long time going without it, or make do with only a few hours at most.

Karon had learned to fear the latter, as Trixie's mood could plummet like a lead brick when she didn't get enough sleep. So when they woke up in London, he kept a very careful eye on her, waiting for any sign she wanted to take her ire out on someone; like a conveniently-located group of sorcerers. Asking Trixie to hold back her natural impulse of decapitating a threat immediately was stretching it enough, but asking her to do so while cranky from lack of sleep was tantamount to suicide.

“You feeling ready, or should we wait until morning?” he asked.

Trixie remained silent as they navigated through the crowd, and it went on long enough for him to begin to suspect this might be some form of silent treatment she was giving him. Of course such methods wouldn't be very effective against a partner that could read minds.

“I'm ready to play this game if you are,” she replied as they managed to detach themselves from the throng of people.  

Karon nodded, thinking everything over. “It's night, so it might be easier for us to remain undetected physically. But without the sun, every energy signature is going to stand out more sharply. And if they've got any form of servitor spirits guarding or just keeping an eye out, we'll be spotted way before we get anywhere close. Both of us will stand out like torches next to a bunch of candles.”

Trixie nodded. “I know. But I don't know any way to cloak our approach; I'm not good with that kind of thing. Illusions and mind tricks are your area of expertise, Karon. If you want to silently kill off anything or anyone, I can do that with a touch; as long as we can clean up the ashes before we get noticed, that is.”

Karon nodded. “Anything else you think might be useful?”

Trixie remained silent, holding up a hand to let him know she was thinking it through. As they went on walking, Karon pulled out the map Varsif had marked with the sorcerer's location and navigated their way forward.

After a few minutes, Trixie spoke up. “I can cast spells to allow myself or others to walk on water or breathe it for about ten minutes each if we want to escape by way of that river we passed by. Otherwise, I can always cast a feather-fall spell to myself for an easy landing if we need to jump from somewhere high, but no one else. I can also pull off levitation, but it's slow and only lasts for a minute at the most. Besides that, the only new stuff I've been working on is healing.”

“Healing? Really, that's pretty complicated, and...” Karon trailed off.

Trixie scoffed and gave him a loving smile. “I'll have you know I was very good at it when I was stuck on that world. It's just taken me time to adapt the techniques to work outside of it, since the energy flows differ and all that.”

“How good healing are we talking, here?” Karon asked, his curiosity piqued.

Trixie shrugged. “If it doesn't kill you or sever a limb or anything really extreme, I can fix it. Diseases and poisons, too, for that matter. It should work fine now thanks to the instructions on the scroll we got from that furry creature you... you know.”

Karon winced, but nodded. “Good, hopefully we won't have to make use of those talents just yet.”

As the night deepened and the city became flooded with electrical light, they came closer to their destination. When the map showed them to be just a ten minute walk away or so, Karon stopped and nodded his head towards a nearby cluster of trees and bushes. Trixie followed him into it, where she took position over him as he sat down with crossed legs, and relaxed.

The night air was chill, and Karon regretted not wearing something warmer. But gradually, as he steadied his breathing and relaxed, energy flowed freely in his body, warming it, and making his head feel light.

Once, it had taken him considerable effort to detach his spirit from his body, and the return had always been an unpleasant sensation. Now his consciousness left the fleshy confines of his body and drifted into his spirit as easily as if he was slipping into a pool of water.

The world shifted in appearance, becoming alive with energy and colors his normal eyes couldn't register. His other senses sharpened and changed as well; he could feel certain movements in the ethereal, like ripples spreading outwards, carrying with it traces of the source.

It took less than two seconds before a certain sensation became obvious to him. The feeling was so much like being covered in a warm blanket, then sung a sweet and peaceful lullaby into sleep.

Instinct and experience saved him, born of countless times when Karon had been the one sinking hooks into a victim's mind. He knew it was simply a manner of finding the right kind of poison to coat them in. To make the victim want to feel them dig in deep and firmly attach themselves.

Karon rejected the sensation, erecting a barrier in his mind that pushed the seductive bliss aside, but allowed the energy itself to remain within his conscious reach. He carefully grasped the energy with his mind and his ghostly hands reaching into the air, before pulling out a handful of golden strings.

The weave of magic was simple in its construction. It didn't work by slowly inserting itself into the victim; it simply slammed the full force of it into them, trusting that no being would want to reject such a pleasant experience.

Karon bit a translucent lip. It was either a sign of considerable, but not really awe-inspiring talent, or the sorcerers had constructed it merely to keep out the riffraff, the ones not able to resist the magic. If the latter was the case, that meant the group was fine with having someone that could shake it off to stop by for a visit. That was a bad sign.

“You're a soul eater and trickster, accompanied by a sexy ass-kicking machine. Pull yourself together,” the thought rung out as a low whisper.

“Yes, we will infect them. Seep into their minds and feed on their life force. It is good they have power, it will be ours as we feast on them,” the voice drifting out from Karon's mind deepened.

“We must fear the powerful, we must be ready to run from those that would hurt us,” his mind spoke out loud again, this time the voice sounding light and frightened.

“We must find a bargaining point. All creatures understand the concepts of value and even exchange, it is simply a matter of finding the right wares to trade. Junk to one is treasure to another,” his voice said in a factual and feminine tone.

Fear rising like a spectral bile, actually visible as a sickly yellow light trickling forward throughout his spirit body, Karon steeled his mind, and exerted his will.

“I am Mendax Karon Bellum,” his mind spoke, finding clarity within the words.

He repeated it, several times over, until he felt them sink into him with a firm surety.

There might be many advantages to drifting throughout the spirit world as one himself, but without the machine that was the physical brain, there was nothing neatly stacking the pieces of his self into categories, keeping them in check with strong boundaries, and keeping much under the wraps of an unconscious that could operate on its own.

Without the brain, his self flowed without such rigid restrictions. His beings answering to his will and intentions fluidly. It was not a dangerous thing to most spirit creatures, but to a soul eater...

To have the complete memories and powers of another being, their pattern of behavior, history and hopes for the future, and then not being able to pick and choose from it, tapping into what one wished and letting the rest sleep in silence, was a sure way to lose oneself.

The old adage 'You are what you eat' was doubly true for a soul eater. What if a certain emotion from a victim was stronger than all the other feelings Karon had before was? And he couldn't separate it arbitrarily, labeling it 'me, but not me'?

Then he would simply feel it as his own, the way of thinking and feeling of another creature melding into his consciousness. And if that happened, the most intense ones would simply win and overpower the others, sending the rest into the obscurity of that which one registered as unimportant, and eventually forgot.

If Karon did not know who he was, and he ate something more powerful than he was, more powerful and sure in its identity than the creature named Mendax Karon Bellum, than the latter would be swallowed. His hungry wounds did not make distinction, for it was blind hunger, and it would swallow Karon as readily as everything else.

He needed to be careful, but more than that, he needed to be strong. Strong enough not to be dominated by his hunger. Strong enough to wield what he had absorbed from the souls he'd devoured without losing himself in it. Because it would grow. The chorus of voices would grow into a storm, a gale of thoughts, memories and feelings Karon himself had never lived through, but would still carry.

He hovered above the ground, turning his spirit around to look down at Trixie. She couldn't see him, but he could see her, all of her, very clearly. Her aura blazed in scarlet, spotted with clouds of black and purple, and he understood that the anger he had seen displayed in Trixie's action was merely a hint of the true rage she hid inside.

“No, focus,” he whispered, and he felt his wandering thoughts crystallize and fall into place.

He turned towards the source of the lulling magic, and started drifting through the air towards it, senses on high alert for any traps or guardians.

As he drifted closer, it became more and more obvious that there was something amiss. There was a certain tension, manifesting as a slight icky feeling across his immaterial body; like passing through a spider web too fine to see with one's eyes.

He reached the apartment complex Varsif had marked on the map. Gathered together in a square, the white painted buildings rose up several stories high, with balconies jutting out towards the street. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary.

No traps, no guards, nothing.

With a final attempt, Karon reached out with his senses, trying to pick up on any emissions of energy, any echoes of a magical working. As soon as his senses touched upon the stone of the building, he felt something. Like a cloying presence recoiling from his own energy.

And it sensed him, too.

“Oh, crap,” he managed to sputter before speeding off like a bullet back towards his body.

The transition came easily, and Karon's eyes jerked open as he stumbled up on his legs.

“Fuck! They felt me snooping around,” he exclaimed.

“How many?!” Trixie quickly hissed in return, her hand darting to where her sword would normally be, then grimaced when she remembered it was back in Varsif's cabin alongside her armor.

“I can't feel anyone coming,” Karon said through gritted teeth, his mind searching for any pursuers.

The seconds ticked by painfully, sweat appearing on both of them as they strained to sense any incoming attack. The longer it took, the more tense they grew, eyes darting from side to side, and snapping their heads in the direction of the slightest sound.

But nothing happened. Eventually, the burden of not knowing became too much, and Trixie swore.

“Filthy n'wah! Karon, we need to move. We're too exposed here, and if they did sense you, then they must still be waiting for us to make a move.”

Karon bit his lower lip, then wiped the sweat off his brow and nodded. Moving as silently as possible, the two of them made their way out to the road again, scuttling from cover to cover. Trixie kept her eyes out for anything physical, while Karon had a dazed, faraway look upon him as his mind was mostly engrossed in the spirit world, scanning for any unseen assailants.

However, they did not retreat, but kept moving towards the apartment complex. The sorcerers might know that something was out there, and had come close to invading their territory, but they didn't know what. The operation could still be salvaged, as long as they didn't give anything more away about themselves.

It had taken just one look for both of them to understand that, not through telepathy, but simply through knowing each other.

As they moved down south Kender street, the complex came into view near the end, rising several stories above the rest of the buildings lining the street. Karon's eyes narrowed when he felt the presence of that sticky web, clinging to the location as if some gigantic spider was sitting in the center of it, waiting for an unsuspecting fly to come dancing upon it.

“Yeah, thanks for that mental image. It wasn't like things were tense enough already, you just had to ramp it up to horror movie levels.”

“Most of our life could be seen as a horror movie with slapstick humor in it.”

“Quick! Find a black guy to tag along with us, that why we can be sure that we won't be the first to die.”

“Dude...”

The streetlights outside blended with the light shining out through the apartment windows, sometimes rising and falling as the light from a television flickered through different scenes.

Trixie held out an arm in front to stop him, then give him a hard look. “Do you sense anything?”

Karon frowned, then tried to explain; as always, it was next to impossible to describe the sensations of the ethereal into something understandable with mundane words.

“There's like... a web, or a net. It's very delicate, which makes me think it has something to do with affecting the mind or spirit rather than the body. I don't know what it does, and it's not aggressive or anything, it's just there. Like a binding, or something. If I had to guess, than I might say it's sustaining something. Maybe an alarm system, maybe a system of protective runes or symbols... or maybe a system of explosive runes.”

Trixie looked up at the building, imagining the entire thing laced with precision explosives a group of extremely powerful practitioners of magic could control through will alone. And they were supposed to break someone out of that place.

“Karon, I don't often say this, but maybe this time we really do need to be careful. If you can keep yourself from doing something too... trickster-y, and piss someone off, I can keep from punching or blowing someone up.”

“Good, because I'm just saying, if it actually is a system of explosive runes, than throwing fire around might have something of a domino effect.”

Trixie visibly swallowed. “You ready, then?”

“For Lyra? Yeah, I'm ready. Now let's go get that anthrophile and get her home.”

Together, they slowly made their way into the complex courtyard. Nothing stopped them, no invisible guardians, or even physical guards, were present. For all appearances the place seemed to be incredibly normal. It unnerved Karon.

“I hate this.”

The voice sounded almost frightened for once, and the usual dry, perpetually sarcastic tone was lessened, though not entirely gone.

“It's not that bad.” Karon thought as they entered the courtyard. Which was nothing but a square of yellow dirt, with small patches of grass and a trio of trees growing snugly together.

“This is unnatural.”

“What? You mean the web?”

“No, the normality. It's freaking me out.”

“We might not be used to it anymore, but this is our homeworld, and this is our kind.”

“You're a trickster, not human.”

“I'm a human trickster, so technically I am. Just a different version of it.”

“A slightly enhanced version, you mean.”

“That could be argued. Point is, this is still the homestead, the foundation from which I was built.”

“You're wrong about that. This isn't a long awaited homecoming.”

“Then why does it feel like it is? If this is not us coming home, even temporarily, then what is it?”

The voice didn't answer. Instead a door leading into a stairway opened, and a brightly-smiling middle-aged woman stepped out. She was dressed in a knitted green shirt and loose-fitting jeans, topping off the motherly look with a sensible haircut ending her hair just above her shoulders.

“There you are! Come inside, dear. It's still pretty cold at night, and the others are expecting you,” she hollered happily, and waved them inside.

Trixie and Karon gave each other very skeptical looks, but realizing they didn't have any real alternative action available, they obeyed. The matronly woman waved them inside, providing each with a huge smile as they passed her by, then hurried past and led them upstairs.

“I must say, we weren't expecting guests, but then the others told us there would be one or more coming along, and that we should be sure to be hospitable. I understand that it's a very hectic world today, but you should still try and call ahead of time to let us know you're coming,” she finished, and gave them both a slightly reproachful look.

It didn't matter how or which way Karon turned it, he just couldn't imagine the woman as a sorceress if his life depended on it.

Besides, he couldn't feel a hint of real power over her, and her aura revealed nothing outside the ordinary. Except...

There was something about it. Like it was too steady, forcefully held in check by some unseen force. Karon prodded her with his mind, very carefully. And then he felt it, the web again, but this time it wasn't just clinging to the area, it was actually clinging to the woman. Guiding her thoughts and feelings, keeping her under a constraint she wasn't even aware of, forcing her into a peacefully compliant mold.

Karon was slightly horrified, and, he had to admit, a bit impressed. The enslavement of her mind was so skillfully done, with such expert precision it was almost baffling. Karon was good, but more geared towards immediate action in his use of the arts. This was different. This was a construct made to last. And more than that, it was spread throughout the entire complex, which would mean that the sorcerers could potentially have everyone living there under their thumb.

“There has to be at least a hundred people living here.”

“Great. So not only are we dealing with a cabal of heavy hitters, but now we might have to tangle with an army under their control.”

“An army that is, in every sense of the words, full of innocents.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, no kidding. It doesn't matter how clever we might be in coming up with an excuse, if we end up slaughtering an entire fucking block of mundanes who attack us only because they are unknowingly enslaved, and probably reasoning we are terrorists or threatening their children or something... yeah, we're not coming back from that. The devil himself will pop up just to give us special seats on the express train to hell.”

They kept ascending the stairs while the woman kept chatting chirpily, something about baking if Karon wasn't mistaken, but he hardly listened.

“I'm not really worried about hell.”

“You're not?”

“No, Trixie would bust us out in a matter of hours.”

“Yeah... she would, wouldn't she.”

Karon took the time to look at his companion, walking a step in front of him, giving him a very nice view of her behind. He restrained the urge to slap it, and gave her a glowing smile she couldn't see.

“But, there are worse things than hell.”

Karon shuddered, the memory of a creature pleading for mercy as Karon cast him out of existence drifting up from a dark corner of his mind. What Karon did when he ate a soul was horrible, but it wasn't wasteful. He kept what he ate, and although he knew that the will within the being, the spark that made them alive was snuffed out, he didn't know if they kept existing in some other form, in some other, higher dimension, or not.

But what he had done to Discord was different. He hadn't eaten him, he had banished him from existence. Thrown him out from the ALL like he was trash. Yes, the creature was never supposed to exist, and through his mere presence he disrupted the natural flow of Equestria, threatening to doom it. But he hadn't deserved the fate Karon brought down upon him.

He could have been killed, in some way, by someone possessing more power than Karon had at the time. Or maybe he could have been changed, undergone a transformation all the way down to his soul, or maybe—

“Stop it. What's done is done.”

“Yeah, and we can't change it. But, we have done questionable things, too. Never laid siege and tried to exterminate an entire world, sure, but we're definitely on Santa's naughty list. And if we ever happen to find ourselves in the same situation, but this time there's someone else trapping us, burning with hatred because we did something bad to them... I would want mercy.”

“You think we wouldn't deserve it?”

“Do you?”

“We're not that bad.”

“Not yet.”

Karon walked in silence the rest of the way. Finally, they stopped at the top floor of the building, outside a white-painted wooden door, just like all the others they had passed by. There was a mail slot on it, and the name that stood upon the placard read 'Markus Valestead'.

“Markus the sorcerer? Yeah, I'm not feeling it.”

“So, who is it exactly that's living here?” Karon asked, trying to sound polite.

The woman blinked, then frowned at them. “Well it's the others that live here. Sometimes, at least, sometimes they come to stay with the rest of us, the dears. Everyone is happy to let them stay as guests, bless their hearts.”

"She seems to be absolutely sincere. She actually believes that the sorcerers are good people."

"Probably some sort of geas, or charm... either way, not a good sign."

She opened the door with a smile, and called in, “Hello? The people you said were coming are here, and they're looking hungry.”

The hallway was simple, with a white painted wall with a mirror hanging right next to the dressing hooks, which held a single black coat hanging above a pair of brown leather shoes. Then, from the other end, a man appeared.

He was wearing a knitted shirt in a dark green color and black pants. His hair was a golden blonde, and gray eyes stood out starkly against the deep tan the man had. He put up a hand against the doorway he stood in, and examined his guests from across the hallway.

Karon felt the stranger's touch upon his mind, delicate but firm, like someone dipping a toe to test the water. It took him just a few seconds to gather whatever information he required, because the sorcerer's expression turned sly, and he gave a tiny bow with his head.

“Come on in. Sarah, would you let the others know that the guests have arrived, two of them, even. One potentially very special.”

Trixie's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Oh, burned!"

The sorcerer turned around, and Karon and Trixie followed him inside while the woman, Sarah, closed the door behind them.

They went inside to a living room, where two sitting chairs flanked a three-seat couch, positioned in front of a huge flat-screen TV. The sorcerer motioned for them to take a seat.

“You are free to eat if you're hungry," he said, gesturing toward a pizza box lying on the table in front of the couch. "I'm afraid I don't have anything else to offer in way of food. I'm not much of a cook.”

“It's fine. A drink would be nice, though,” Karon said, draping one leg over another in what he hoped looked like a relaxed manner.

“Of course, what would you like?” the sorcerer asked, the epitome of British politeness.

“Whiskey, if you have some,” Karon said, deciding that a vodka martini, shaken not stirred, might be taking things a little too far.

“And you?” the sorcerer asked, turning his eyes on Trixie.

“Same,” she replied, her tone and expression far less polite.

The man disappeared through a door into what Karon suspected was a kitchen, and appeared half a minute later with three glasses and a bottle. He filled the glasses to half, then took one and sat down in one of the chairs, swiveling it to face his guests.

“So, what might I help you with?” he asked.

“Maybe introductions are in order, first?” Karon asked, trying his damnedest to sound suave as he took a sip of the liquid.

“Don't cough, don't cough!”

“Ah, I apologize. I have to admit it's been some time since my colleagues and I received this kind of unexpected visit. Once we gained our present reputation, few seemed to want to associate with us. Or simply can't reach us.”

He stood up from his seat and extended a hand in greeting, Karon clasped and shook it, once, twice, thrice. With each shake a mental battle took place, where they both tried to slip into the other's mind without being caught. Neither succeeded.

“Markus Valestead, sorcerer and leader of the south London cabal,” he said.

“Mendax Karon Bellum, trickster, soul eater and leader of the interdimensional friendship club,” Karon replied.

The sorcerer grinned, then turned to Trixie, who before he could reach out a hand towards, raised her glass in greeting and said, “Trixie, god-slayer, arch-magister and bodyguard to the trickster.”

Karon had to exercise all of his willpower not to spit out his drink, and instead forced himself to swallow it before turning to her with a strained smile. The sorcerer didn't seem to mind, but he didn't appear to be very impressed, either. Instead he chuckled, then sat back down and took a sip of his drink before speaking.

“So now that we are all introduced, we can move beyond the pleasantries. What do you want?”

Karon considered his words very carefully. He could lie, say they wanted to move into London, and were considering a partnership. But Markus didn't appear impressed with either of them, despite their rather imposing titles, and obvious level of power.

He could always tell the truth: 'We're here for the girl, give her to us and we won't burn down everything you hold dear'. That might work, especially since things like god-slayer and soul eater were generally things ascribed to people you didn't want to piss off.

But whatever he could say, it all harkened back to the fact that Markus didn't seem intimidated by them. Which was dangerous. Outright fear might have been expecting too much, but Karon had been counting on some degree of respect for their power, and the potential damage they could cause.

Instead the sorcerer sat back, confidently nourishing his drink as if the people sitting mere feet away couldn't touch him.

“Yeah, something isn't right here.”

Worst of all was the fact that Karon couldn't read him. The sorcerer was as good as he was, if not better, at the subtle mind games. And without being able to gauge his strength, or get a peek of his plans or backup, well, he was kinda screwed.

So, did he want to try and dance around the issue, weave a web of lies and gain what he came for through subtlety and deceit? Did he want to play a game of power with someone who might be a better player at it then he was?

Or did he want to go with truth? Trust in the experience and power of himself and Trixie in order to bully their way to Lyra and get her out? Try and get by force and threaten something out of a man that didn't show even the least bit of concern over their presence?

For maybe the first time ever, Karon realized he wasn't as clever as he thought; he was used to the idea of being the trickster, the one that managed to outwit his opponents, finding the loophole or trick that left his enemies defeated and everyone else baffled. But the truth was that most of it was luck, and maybe a little nudge from on high.

He had managed so far, but that was mostly because he had played against lesser opponents that he already had a clear advantage over. Now, he was seated across one that had looked at Karon, measured his potential, and found him no more deserving of fear than if he were a peasant with a pitchfork and delusions of grandeur.

“I fucking hate character development.”

The silence stretched on for several seconds, Markus patiently waiting for Karon to answer the question. To buy time, Karon slowly emptied his glass, thankful for the burning sensation that numbed some of the more rebellious thoughts threatening to rise, and hiding just how badly his hands had started shaking.

Finally, he set the glass down on the table, and flashed him a wolfish smile.

“I've come here from the Walker's Rest. Maybe you've heard of it?”

Markus blanched, his tanned skin growing a few shades paler in the first sign of real fear.

One thing all sorcerers had in common was a perpetual fear of retribution from on high. Even creatures like Karon were governed by rules, though he danced at the edge of most and knew how to bend the rest. Sorcerers were different; there was no code of honor or conduct. And while sane creatures knew not to break the rules of greater beings, sorcerers not only walked all over them, they gleefully set them on fire then pissed on the ashes before flipping off everyone watching.

There was but one law in the worlds of the sorcerers, and it was a very simple one: 'Everything goes'.

However, most sorcerers were smart, and knew how to use the convoluted and highly complex arena that was universal politics to their advantage. Doing enough damage to benefit them, but not enough to become the actual focus of something greater.

But always, there was the fear of the angelic hit squad knocking on their door because of that final step where they'd gone too far. One eye on the ground looking out for rivals, one eye on the sky looking for divine judgment. That was the way of a sorcerer.

And Karon had just stated he had come from one such divine place.

“Oh? And what business might have brought you here to quiet old Terra?” Markus asked, clearly emphasizing the word quiet.

“The disappearance of a very important individual. A woman, name of Lyra. She disappeared a few days ago here in London, and I was informed by a very... reliable source that you might know how to find her.”

Karon didn't elaborate on his source. If he even mentioned Varsif's name, violence would be unavoidable. The trickster knew his old master far too well not to understand the kind of reputation he would curry in his dealings with sorcerers. To them, he was the bastard offspring of the boogeyman and an angry bear god. Better to let the sorcerer think Karon's source was an angel, or maybe even someone higher up on the food scale.

“Ah, of course. I know the woman you're speaking of,” Markus told him, a slight twist of his mouth saying he wasn't liking this turn of events.

“Excellent. Then you might know where to find her? There are some who are very anxious to get her back,” Karon said delicately.

“Good. Let him think this is official angel business. Let him think there's a cavalry of sexy angel amazons ready to descend on this place at our orders.”

“Uhh, you might be stretching credibility with that one.”

“A guy's allowed to dream, right?”

Hands steady once more, Karon leaned over the table and poured himself another glass, enjoying the flash of annoyance he saw on Markus' face. Trixie had been quiet so far, observing the situation the same way a tiger observed its prey, ready to pounce at any moment.

Markus' eyes grew forlorn, and a white mist came over them eyes for a moment. Then the tension in his face seemed to ease up, and he leaned back in the same casual manner as before.

“What the fuck just happened?”

The sorcerer played with his drink, looking down at the last shred of amber liquid with a pleased expression on his face. Then he looked up, a hunger present in his eyes Karon didn't like.

“Of course, she is actually present here in the building, under our protection, so to speak.”

“It is very noble of you to extend your protection to her, but we are quite able to do so ourselves, and she is needed back home,” Karon replied diplomatically.

“Ah, 'home', you say?” Markus spoke, pronouncing the word strangely. He drained his glass, then rose from his seat. “Follow me, and I shall take you to her.”

Karon and Trixie left their drinks on the table and followed the sorcerer, naturally falling into their normal patter; Trixie in the back watching for physical attacks, Karon in the lead keeping his senses peeled for anything magical.

It was hard to detect anything through the web. It was like a conduit for the sorcerers themselves, allowing their will and projected energy to travel faster and shape itself more efficiently, and maybe even functioned as some kind of collective hive mind. But it dampened anything else not connected to it.

And Karon couldn't get access to it no matter how hard he pressed. Had he tried to unravel it, there was no doubt in his mind the sorcerers would come down on him like a sledgehammer. It didn't matter if all the sorcerers were as talented as Markus, the kind of construct the web was took years to build.

They went down the stairs, all the way down to the basement level, and eventually passed into a room that showed traces to have once been meant for storage. But most of the individual cages had been cleared away, leaving a large empty space of concrete floor and walls.

However, some of the cages were still present, made of wood and cheap metal nets. Inside one of them was Lyra.

Karon recognized her immediately. The pale blonde hair, bordering on white, and slender frame. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a huge, puffy, white winter jacket with the lines of the hood furred. Her feet were cradled inside black leather boots reaching all the way up to her knees—knees that were pressed up against her chest as she laid still in a fetal position.

Her back was turned towards them, which was just as well—Karon was certain that if his eyes met hers from within that cage, he would have strangled Markus on the spot.

“Wait, think. That cage is meant to hold possessions and crap people don't want to get rid of, not people. If she had wanted to, she could have kicked her way out of it within minutes.”

“I think you might be a bit overzealous in your protection,” Trixie said in an icy voice.

“It was necessary. You see, this one is quite the genius when it comes to shapeshifting. I have seen her shift her form with an ease I'd only think the gods capable of. Even though the rest of her magical abilities are average, at best. We thought it best to keep her contained and... docile.”

“In order to do what?” Karon asked, taking a few steps forward and coming to a stand at the sorcerer's left. Trixie herself passed by them without sparing them a glance, her eyes firmly fixed on the prone figure inside the cage.

“Well, since you mentioned that she was wanted back 'home', I will admit, getting her back there has been our intention since meeting her,” Markus said.

Karon's eyes narrowed, sensing no deceit in the words. Still, that didn't have to mean much.

“And why would you do that?”

“Because she is different. Her body might be a human's when she isn't shifting into an animal, but her mind, her aura speak of some other origin. The ease at which she changes shapes is demonstration enough that her physical shape is no real indication of her true nature.”

Karon remained silent. He needed to hear just how much the cabal had figured out, and what their game was.

“We're very skilled in the workings of the minds of many creatures, as you have no doubt gleaned from the weave covering this place. But how to work this one has eluded us. I suspect it is either her alien nature, or someone has put a block in her mind, denying us free access to her memories.”

“Thank you, Varsif,” Karon thought quietly, suspecting who was behind that little trick.

“And why would you be interested in that? There are countless beings present on this planet who count other worlds or even dimensions as their home.”

“Ah, but that's the thing. This creature is particularly interesting, because even though we can't get into her mind completely, we can still read the energy and structure of her being. And it is obvious it is naturally inclined towards magic, even if she no doubt is a poor representative of her kind going by her abilities. More than that, I sense no inherent aggression or killer instinct. Whatever she truly is, it is most likely a prey species of some kind.”

“Oh, I see what they're after.”

The south London cabal was looking to expand their business. Markus and his crew wanted to use Lyra to gain access to Equestria, to use her to somehow create a link to her world, not entirely unlike how Karon had once used Twilight to create a bridge there. How exactly the sorcerers planned to make the crossing without garnering the attention of the powers guarding against such unauthorized travel was unknown to him. There were only a few ways with which one could legitimately jump across worlds without raising alarms, and those methods were usually safeguarded by people of some moral fiber.

“Is that a compliment or insult against us?”

Of course, someone like Markus might have found a way to wrangle one of those methods into his keeping. If that was the case, trouble might be brewing. However, most worlds had powers present that could deal with his ilk should he start making trouble.

Equestria, though...

It was a buffet of natural resources, powerful but not combative creatures, and a world that itself was radiating power. It was insular from the rest of the universal game of power, forcefully made to be harmonic within itself to prevent a repeat of the original world's fate. It was simply a place that hadn't gained the attention of the rest of the universe so far. But if Markus and ones like him would decide to stop by for a visit...

Equestria wouldn't stand a chance.

“More than that, though, I can sense no divine presence within her aura, not even a shred of it anywhere in her entire being. Nor can I sense it within you, trickster and soul eater. Your god-slaying bodyguard doesn't have the stink of angels on her, either.”

“Uh-oh.”

“So whatever reason you have to be here, it is not at the behest of the deluded beings that would call themselves greater. That makes you one thing and one thing only.”

“Time to get dangerous.”

“What's that?” Karon asked in a low voice.

“A rival,” Markus growled, then raised his left hand toward Karon.

The sorcerer had taken the trickster's measure; he knew the nature of such a being, knew that he primarily relied on deceit and trickery to win. No doubt he expected Karon to attack his mind, a battleground the sorcerer knew well. Or maybe the trickster would do something more base, and fling raw energy or fire at him in a display of heat and light.

What he did not expect, if the expression that appeared on his face was any indication, was for Karon to attack him physically. He didn't expect the trickster to simply slap away the sorcerer's hand and move in closer.

Faced with a kind of fighting very unfamiliar to him, the sorcerer reacted in a primal, unthinking manner. Drawing upon very rusty animal instincts, he lashed out with his right hand in a clumsy haymaker towards Karon's head. The blow struck true, but was so weak it barely staggered Karon.

Yes, the sorcerer did not expect a fist fight. And he definitely didn't expect Karon to draw back his leg, then send it speeding into the sorcerer's crotch.

With a high-pitched scream the sorcerer fell down on the ground, his eyes bulging and face turning bright red. By the time the sorcerer had crashed to the floor, Trixie had already ripped apart the flimsy cage holding Lyra, and was trying to rouse her.

“Karon!” she screamed.

Kicking the sorcerer again for good measure, eliciting another squeal, Karon ran over to Trixie, and looked down on the woman she was holding. Her eyes were still the light hazel he remembered, but they were misty, coated in a white film.

“Fuck!” Karon swore as he realized how the sorcerers had kept her 'docile'. They'd bound her to the same web they used to control the people. She had remained outside of their direct control, either because of her inhuman nature, or Varsif's precautions, or both. But though they had not been able to control her, they had managed to deny her control as well.

The trance they had put her in was deep, and they didn't have time to wake her from it. Karon could already feel the shivers through the web, the echo of the other sorcerers moving in on them.

“I'll have to carry her,” Karon said, and with Trixie's help he managed to get her across his shoulders, legs dangling off one end, and the arms the other.

“Thank god she's not heavy, we're not built for this kind of shit.”

“Trix, you cover us from behind, keep any pursuers from frying us,” he huffed, feeling his spine protest loudly at the extra weight.

“What about the normal people?” she asked, her eyes wide.

“Jesus Christ, I hate my life.”

“Fuck, I didn't tell you. The sorcerer has pretty much everyone here under their control, not just a few!” he hissed angrily. “I'll have to cloak us.”

“That won't work on the sorcerers,” she frowned.

“They might sense my presence, but I can send out echoes to confuse them so they'll think we're in several places at once. The regular people won't be able to detect us, and if the sorcerers try and direct their movement they're just gonna end up tripping over each other.”

“You sure you can manage all that, with her?” she asked, nodding at Lyra.

Karon was about to respond, when he felt power gather from behind him. He turned around to see Markus rising from the floor, eyes brimming with tears and a face shining red. With a wordless snarl he brought up both hands, and energy lashed out against them.

The sorcerer was obviously angry, because what he lashed out with was pain. Not really pain itself, but a mental command, meant to send the brain haywire and delude itself into thinking it was experiencing as much pain as it possibly could.

It would have knocked out any normal being instantly, and rendered many more powerful ones helpless. But Trixie had endured much during her exile, and Karon knew pain like an old friend. Like an old love.

The scream tore itself from his lips. He staggered, bracing himself with all his might to keep from falling over. Next to him, Trixie screamed as well, but there was as much anger as pain mingled in her scream, and with an effort of will she flung her hands at the sorcerer, and blue fire lanced out towards him.

Karon felt how it sucked in the air around them, leaving Karon feeling lightly singed just from having been near it. The lance struck against a shield the sorcerer had hastily erected, blue fire crashing against a purple-colored bubble of energy.

Before the first lance had entirely died, Trixie was already sending another. While Markus was busy keeping himself from being incinerated, Karon hurried towards the door. Trixie followed close behind, walking backwards with her front faced towards Markus, sending lance after lance against the sorcerer.

The air was shimmering from the heat trapped in the concrete room, the wall and floor around the sorcerer blackened and even melted in some places. When Karon was out of the room, Trixie didn't bother sending any more, instead she simply held up her hands threateningly, breathing hard.

The sorcerer was in a worse state, breathing heavily, and looking on the verge of passing out, either from the lack of oxygen, or from the mental strain of shaping so much energy into a defense. When Trixie passed through the doorway and reached the stairs, the sorcerer called out after them in a wheezing voice.

“This isn't over, trickster!”

“You punch like a girl!” Karon yelled in farewell.

He hurried up the stairs as fast as he could, which, judging by the impatient sound Trixie made, wasn't fast enough. It was just one flight of stairs, and the sorcerers had all remained on the top floor as far as Karon could tell, and so they reached the door opening up into the courtyard first.

When they exited, however, they found themselves staring down a mob of extremely angry Brits.

“Murderers!” someone cried.

“Terrorists!” another screamed.

“Pedophiles!” the matronly Sarah shrilled, brandishing a kitchen knife in her hand threateningly.

They were all under the control of the sorcerers, but it was a light-touched control, one that guided the victims instead of completely dominating them. Hence, the people had concocted their own logical reasons for what was going on, their minds trying to make sense of impulses and commands they could not understand.

If Karon made them see the three of them as harmless, as people that could not reasonably be seen as any one of those things, then they wouldn't be able to make sense of the situation. At best that would break the sorcerer's control, otherwise it might confuse them.

“How do you gain the trust of a mob of pissed off Brits?”

“Uh... God save the Queen!” Karon shouted.

The words left a heavy silence in the air. The mob seemed to hesitate, and then someone took a step forward, mostly to assume a more comfortable stance by the look of it. But the motion was picked up by the entirety of the crowd, and a nervous rustling came over them. All of them waited for someone else to make the first move.

Karon's eyes darted from side to side, looking for a viable escape plan.

Behind them, the door was flung open, and Karon and Trixie turned to see a group of figures come rushing outside. They were all wearing black and dark green clothes, in what Karon guessed amounted for some sorcery version of gang colors.

“What are you waiting for?! Get them!” one of the sorcerers cried out, pointing at Karon and Trixie.

“Trix!” Karon screamed, and began gathering power to cloak the three of them.

She reacted instantly, raising one hand towards the crowd, the other against the sorcerers. From the one directed at the crowd, a ball of ice was sent soaring through the air. When it impacted against the first person, it exploded in a brilliant white-blue light, and encased all the people in the front of the mob in frost.

The hand that was raised towards the sorcerers spat the same blue lances of fire as before. The sorcerers easily raised shields in their defense, but the ordinary people of the mob didn't have such instincts or abilities, and they all halted in shock, and cried out in fear when magic was brought upon them.

The few seconds it bought them was enough for Karon, and with a push of his will, a field of energy expanded to cover the trio, and they disappeared. No physical sense would be able to detect them now, though the metaphysical senses the sorcerers possessed could still track them through sensing the very field that was cloaking the trio.

Unseen by the mob, Karon and Trixie skirted it, watching the frightened and angry faces of the people within it.

“There they are! Catch them alive!” a female sorcerer called out, and the mob shifted towards where Karon and Trixie were in a motion not entirely of their own will.

Drawing a deep breath, Karon tried to divide his attention. Walling off a section of his mind to keep the cloaking up, and another section to keep him moving, this time following Trixie's lead, he mustered all the mental energy he could, then sent it all out into the courtyard around them.

The energy bounced off everything material, crashed into the people, staggering them mentally, and generally wreaked as much havoc in the ethereal as Trixie's explosions did in the physical. In all that noise, the sorcerers wouldn't be able to make out which energy field was the one cloaking the fleeing trio.

But it took a lot of effort, and they had barely made it out to the main road again before Karon felt his concentration tearing at the edges, the magic flickering uncertainly. Trixie couldn't feel it, but she could see Karon's expression.

“Come on, Karon! I know you can do it, just a little more,” she whispered, doing her best to help him move forward.

“This... is really... hard,” he gasped.

They ran north in a straight line. Behind them the sounds of the confused and raging mob could be heard, scattering into smaller groups sent out in different directions.

“We need to stop,” Karon wheezed. His vision was getting blurry, and there was little energy he could draw upon to steady his mind, having spent most of it on the distraction.

Trixie hissed, then directed him towards the same cluster of bushes and trees they had stopped at before. It wasn't particularly well hidden, but it would provide enough cover for a few minutes.

With a relieved sigh Karon lowered himself down on his knees, and allowed Lyra to slide off, dropping to the ground softly.

“We can't stay here,” Trixie said to him, her eyes peeled on the road.

“I just... need a minute,” Karon huffed, breathing heavily. He turned Lyra over and opened her eyes, a tiny smile spreading over his lips when he saw that the white film was gone. The web was powerful, but localized. The further someone bound to it went away, the less influence it would exert over them.

Karon blinked in realization.

“Trix, the web that's controlling the people! It's limited to the area, so if they go away too far they'll break free automatically. The sorcerers won't be able to send them after us for more than a kilometer at most, or they might lose them!”

Trixie nodded, a slight easing of her shoulders revealing the relief she felt. Then she frowned.

“Karon, the sorcerers are coming.”

Hissing, Karon stood up and joined her, peering out towards the street. The sorcerers were there, further down, not moving.

“Do they sense us?” Trixie asked.

Karon closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to focus on the sorcerers' presence. Then he opened them with a tired sigh.

“Yeah, they feel us.”

“What are they doing?”

“I don't—”

Karon didn't have time to finish before the curse struck.

It was unbelievably powerful, the result of the entire cabal linking their power into one unison goal—to curse their enemies. The energy struck like a tsunami, with a power that could easily have turned the entire neighborhood into a smoldering crater—if the energy had been focused on the physical.

But it wasn't. It was far more insidious than that. It attacked the three of them, all the way to the core of their being, into the heart of their souls.

Karon had a split-second warning before it happened, and brought to bear all the energy he had left. It was almost not enough. Like a single cliff trying to stand firm in a terrible storm tearing away at it, but he managed.

Exhausted beyond measure, Karon fell down on his hands and knees, breathing shallowly. His stomach lurched, and there was absolutely nothing he would rather do then lay down on the soft grass and sleep.

“Karon,” a terrified voice spoke.

There was something about it, something so insistent within her tone that it drew Karon's attention. Slowly turning his head, he looked over at Trixie, and it took him a few seconds to understand what he was seeing.

To his right, a blue-coated, silver-maned unicorn was untangling herself from the mass of human clothes she was trapped within. Karon watched her struggle, forcing himself to try and think, to comprehend.

Eventually, the unicorn managed to break free of her restrictions, and stared at him with an expression of abject horror. Karon's eyes drifted downward, where he saw Lyra, back in the shape of a turquoise unicorn once more, then turned his gaze back up to Trixie.

“Shit.”

Next Chapter: The Great Game (Part 2) Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 53 Minutes