《The Red Sword》


 Chapter 1

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 1</h4>

    Aaron suppressed a sneeze.

    His stomach cramped as he rose from the doll, he''d been hunched over, and he turned away... Safe. No sneeze. No quadrillions ofbacilli sprayed across the room - cluttered with cheap, yet priceless, and prohibitive, yet worthless, items. Hereally needed to dust off the store in the next time. The motes floating in the air were plenty proof of that. But any kind of movement when it was well above a hundred degrees outside was excrutiatingly exhausting (and sweaty) work. Even more so if there wasno AC. It had to be nice and cool at nightand when one slept most of the day, it musthave made Arizona''s murderous summerbearable, he thought bitterly.

    "Bless you", Sid said with evil glee.

    The air tore from Aaron''s unaware throat and mouth with a loud bellow and sprayed a veritable mist of snodder over the fifty year old doll. "NO", Aaron shouted in horror at the same time as Christabel squealed, "EEEW!"

    Aaron hastily rubbed the residue of spittle off on his sleeve and grabbed in panic for soft microfabric tissues. Carefully, even lovingly, he wiped the patted the dolldown and threw a scathing glance at Sid, who fled through the heavy hangings into the backrooms a huge smile on his face. Hoping against hope, Aaron wishedfor the little critter to wake up Cressinda, so he could face her wrath as punishment, but Sid wasn''t that stupid. On the other hand he might well be sneaky enough to wake her and make Aaron out to be the culprit, just to play a prank on top of a prank... Aaron shuddered involuntarily and got back to his work.

    The doll was dry now, and he considere using a wet tissue to clean up the remains, but there was still so much dirt in the dolls fabric, that he was scared he''d ruin all the effort he''d put into washing the victorian-style clothes by getting the dirt back into the clean spots. He certainly didn''t dare to use any solvent on the delicate porcellain face, for fear of destroying the colour. He''d have repainted her himself, but Christabel had been adamant about leaving the face natural.

    Aaron frowned. "Should I just taylor new clothes? I''m not so good at it, though. Actually I''m happy I could patch the holes as they were... I could go out and buy some... But Cressinda would kill me for the expense...", he muttered.

    "I want these clothes! Please, just make them pretty again, for when Angie comes", Christabel said in her piping voice.

    Aaron wanted to suppress a smile, but couldn''t.

    "Do you really think Angie will be happy to see me", Christabel asked with a shivering voice. Aaron could hear the tears clogging up her sinuses.

    "Of co-", Aaron began, but then the glass door opened and the bell rang. Aaron winced, because he''d forgotten to unhook it and really didn''t want it to wake Cressinda, but it was late enough that she''d wake up some time soon anyway, so he relaxed again swiftly and only draped a snow white cloth over the doll. He fixed his customary clerk-smile and said, "Welcome to Edgecombe''sAntiquities, Curiosities and Heirlooms. My name is Aaron, how may I help you, ma''m?"

    The middle aged woman wore a neither-cheap-nor-expensive grey costume, an oversized hat and blackshoes with low heels. She clutched a big handbag to her flat stomach and looked at Aaron with big brown eyes framed by wire glasses. "I-", she began but her voice gave out. She tried again. "My name isAngelaGrant. You gave me a call." Aaron jumped.Too soon! "You said, you found my doll? My Chrissy?" The woman''s voice shivered,and she seemed close to tears.

    "No! She can''t see me like this! I''m not pretty, yet", Christabel shouted desperately

    "Er... yes, but-"

    "''But''?! You said you found her! Did you sell her?!" The woman stormed through the room to the counter-slash-work table. "You didn''t, did you? Tell me, you didn''t! I haven''t seen my Chrissy for forty years!" The woman''s voice took on a hystericle undertone. "Please! I know I don''t deserve it, after I lost her, but, please, let me see my Chrissy!"

    "Wait, wait, wait", Aaron replied hastily. "I didn''t sell her! She''s just... not presentable", he admitted sadly. "If you could give me another week, she''d-"

    "Oh, I don''t care! I just want my Chrissy, back", she pleaded.

    "But-"

    "It''s fine, Aaron", Christabel interrupted, her voice choked with tears. "I''m so happy. Angie wants to see me again! Seeing her like this. It''s too much for me, I can''t bear it! Please, Aaron!"

    The doll''s feelings clogged his throat up as well so he merely nodded and pulled back the cloth hiding the little puppet. Angela Grant screamed in a mix of disbelief and joy, scooped little Christabel in her arms and pressed her to her chest, uncaring (or maybe unknowing) that she''d dropped her bag and its contents had spilled over the floor.

    "My Chrissy! My Christabel", she whispered fiercely and tears flowed out of her pressed eyelids.

    "Angie! Angie", the doll squealed in response, though it was hardly intelligible between her sobs.

    The raw emotions threatened to pull Aaron along, so he distracted himself by picking up the contents of the bag. When he was done the doll and her owner had calmed down, and Angela Grant looked at him. "How much for her", she asked, suddenly all businesswoman.

    Aaron handed her the bag, then scratched his head, awkward, his clerk''s smile all but gone. "Erm... I know she is legally a lost and found item... but in this case we usually raise a symbolic fee of two hundred dollars, ma''m."

    The woman looked at him surprised. Then she grabbed her purse, pulled out two one-hundred-dollar notes and put them on the counter. She nodded, then turned and made to leave, but stopped. She turned back around, put Christabel on the counter and grabbed his face gently. "Thank you. If there is ever anything I can do for you, just call me." She picked Christabel up again, and then left the store.

    "Thank you, Aaron", Christabel shouted, as Angela Grant walked through the door, and Aaron waved at them, feeling deeply satisfied and an incredible warmth in his belly, that had nothing to do with the scorching weather.

    "We could have gotten easily five hundred out of that one, Aaron. If you''d fixed it up properly we''d have gotten four digits, too", said a deep, sultry voice behind him.

    "Oh, did we wake you? I''m sorry", Aaron said as he turned to Cressinda Edgecombe, his employer. Then he turned back, hastily, blushing, as she saw that she was wearing nothing but a purplish, nigh-see-throughlace robe that she''d sloppily tied around her waist, leaving her grand canion cleavage open all the way to her belly button. He fought back involuntary arousal, which was useless, because Cressinda could read him like a book.

    The witch snorted. "You''re such a virgin, Aaron", she said with mild amusement. Then, annoyed, "I''m hungry. Get me some food. Something that goes well with whiskey, Agnes is coming over."

    Aaron sighed. "Yes, ma''m."

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 2</h4>

    Howard Bruckner hated his job.

    But his parents hadn''t been rich and neither had their parents been, and he hadn''t ever won in the lottery, and gamblingreallydidn''t work for him and investing money had been just as hopeless (since it''sclearly just another kind of gambling), and all in all he''d just really never struck it rich, short-term or long-term. And so he was stuck with this underpaid job, that paid for his work and living expenses andleftjust a bit of a budget to to keep his skills up-to-date. Well, the theory of it, at least. And maybe some change for gossip - because gossip needed to be paid in (mostly alcoholic) beverages, after all.

    Howard was not abad wizard per se. The problem was that being "not bad" was just not good enough for any commission handed out by any wizard''s council.

    And so it had come, that Howard Braindead Bruckner had applied to the newly created position of "Police Consultant in all things Supernatural", thinking that his extensive knowledge (he wasn''tignorant of the Other Side or magic in specific; he was simplyuntalented in executing spells) would make him a valuable asset, in a neat job. The position had been invoked at the same time as its corresponding police sub department SCI - Supernatural Crimes Investigations - when the governmenthad been forced to accept the existence of paranormal things. It hadn''t been made public, yet, but everyone agreed, that mass hallucinations of people throwing fireballs and lightnings and what-not could only explain so many of these occurances. Hence, his job. He clearly hadn''t thought it out too well though, because he''d almost died on... He''d had stopped counting on how many occasions.

    The problem was his "partner", Detective Ann Linsner. A strict and harsh, no-nonsense woman (she''d had to come out on top in the chauvinistic society known as "police", so he could understand that) who had further complexes because of her "cute" height of barely five-and-a-bit feet and her slight stature, Detective Linsner was accustomed to holding citizens to the law and (to her credit) mostly its spirit instead of its words. Too bad, she hadn''t quite understood that law doesn''texactly apply to most things from the Other Side.

    Mostly because they just laughed at whatever police officer(s) trying to take them into custody and (in the best of cases) just walked away.

    Among his "favorite" examples were: Detective Ann Linsner trying to apprehend a vampire for drugging minors. Detective Ann Linsner trying to imprison a pack of werewolves for several disappearances - not that Howard wouldn''t have seen them punished, but one left these things best with people actuallycapable of punishing a goddamnpack of werewolves!And, of course, Detective Ann Fucking Linsner trying to drag a bonafidedragonto an interrogation at the station.Interrogating. A.Dragon. Yeah, Howard would have quitted that instant, if he hadn''t lost two hundreds bucks at the horses the week before. The slavery of capitalism...

    "What are you grumbling about", Detective Linsner said from the driver''s seat.

    "Oh. You noticed", he asked in mock surprise. "I was just thinking how it''s a terrific idea to waltz into that forest. In the middle of the night. To apprehend nymphs. With handcuffs. Yeah. What could go wrong?"

    "Telling me that, is your job", she said drily.

    "Uh huh, and ignoring what I say seems to be yours", he mumbled. But apparently she heard him, because she slammed the breaks and his face made quick and painful acquaintance with the dashboard. Should have put on the seat belt, before provoking her...

    "Now, listen! You keep complaining, how it''s sodangerous, but in the end you still take our money, right?! And leaving money out of it, there arelaws! And these apply to all, no matter how powerful they are! And shut up about those vigilantes that ''take care of problems''. They are just as lawless as all the others! Because vigilantism isillegal", she ranted. She would have kept going, too, if not for the cars behind honking in annoyance. She huffed, then started the car again and stared straight at the street.

    "My bad", Howard moaned against a tender and bleeding nose.

    Ten minutes later, they "finally" arrived at First Stone Park, a cove of trees in the middle of Arizona with a nice little sea, that was the origin of Windfall. Humangeographers had tried for one hundred and fifty years to figure out how this veritable miniature forest could have developed in the middle of this dry steppe. Howard knew the answer was quite simple: The local Dryads and Nymphs liked warm weather and the seclusion from other families. But the fact that Windfall had grown around this place, also meant that the true owners of the city''s land where them. They usually didn''t impress more control, than to dry out gardens'' of people they disliked and turn the gardens'' of people they loved into tiny copies of Eden, but sometimes theydid play judge.

    If, for example, a clique of teenagers partied at the lake in the middle of First Stone Park and sunk their empty beer cans in the usually pristine waters, well, they might just disappear, like, oops.

    Which was mighty excessive in Howard''s eyes and plain inacceptable in any police officers (and basically any non-green-peace-activist of the Illuminated Side), but pollution was actually the very bane of dryads and nymphs, pretty much a mortal sin, so this was a problem of two worlds clashing. And that was never pretty.

    But, a clique of teenagers had disappeared, after planning to party at the lake, so here they were. Hooray?

    It was nearing half past nine, so the sun was just disappearing on the horizon, taking with it the last fiery rays of another scorching day, but it left plenty of light to see comfortable by. The air was still warm beyond any reason, the sweat of an entire day of legwork under a sun guilty of one hundred and eight point seven degrees fucking Fahrenheit pasting his cheap grey suit on his skin, and for the hundredth time (approximately) Howard decided to leave Windfall and move in a nice cool state,Montana maybe? But, alas, moving costed money, money that he didn''t have.

    Also he wasn''t allowed to leave Windfall, by degree of the Council of the Graceful Lake, for whatever reason. Which didn''t make him nervous. Not at all.

    Howard pushed dreadful thoughts (that had nothing to do with some (important) Council''s dubious decisions, mind you) out of his head and turned his attention to the forest''s unnaturally neat border. Twice unnatural, because - one - the forest was a perfect rectangle, after humans had tried to cultivate it, and because - two - Nature''s Envoys had allowed them to grow so nicely. Usually dryads created wild, raw, uncontrolled forest, that fought against any edge imposed by humans.

    Howard had his suspiscions about that, because, for some reason, this city was crammed with the VIP and who-is-who of the Other Side.

    Just yesterday he''d stumbled across an enthusiastic car dealer, who was, in fact, St. George, the Dragon Slayer, made immortal by the blood of the dragon''s he''d slain. Howard hadn''t said a word, not to anyone, of course, because if people like that weren''t known to be in the area, that was because they didn''twant to be known in the area, andthat meant hell for anyone that "ratted" them out.

    Seriously, there were landmines everywhere.

    And hewasn''t allowed to leave. Yippie!

    "You''re spacing out again", said Detective Linsner''s permanently annoyed voice.

    Howard tore himself from his troubled thoughts and focused himself back on the forest.

    "Can we go in", she asked, obviously without meaning it, because she was already well behind the line of trees.

    Howard sighed. "Everything A-okay, sir."

    Then he jogged after her.

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 3</h4>

    After googling"food that goes with whiskey" and fixing up seven portions of pork ribs (which were woefully inadequate, because he really didn''t have the time to prepare them, and after barely thirty minutes in the oven, they just weren''t how he''d have liked them), five of which were eaten directly at dinner (one for Cressinda, Agnes and himself, each, and two for Sid) and the other two as backup for when the two boozers would get their nightly snack attack, after closing up the store (and actually dusting off), Aaron went for his daily evening stroll. Today he''d only gotten out at nine o clock and some (the two boozers had already burned three bottles of whiskey, for goodness sake), but the sun was still on the horizon painting the old limestone building and the rest of the shopping street in brilliant golden and amber colors. Mr. Sanders, the owner of the bookstore (modern books in opposite to Cressinda''s antiquaries), was just down pulling the shutters and locking them up, so Aaron waited politely, and, when Mr. Sanders turned, waved amicably.

    "Good evening, Aaron. Tough day", the thirty-something year old man asked, handsome and smiling.

    "Only the heat, Mr. Sanders", Aaron replied, smiling. "How was your day?"

    "Slow, in fact, but pleasant. My airconditioning took care of that", he said and grinned mischievously.

    "I''m envious", Aaron said wryly.

    "Always so polite. The world could use more kids like you." Mr. Sanders laughed. "Good night, then, Aaron."

    "Good night, Mr. Sanders."I wasn''t always polite, though. Tyrannical witches work wonders, I guess. But, Aaron could not deny that Cressinda had given him more of a home, than he''d ever had before, and, he tought, a warmer one even, than many other''s might ever have had.

    "Hurry up", Sid complained. He''d dashed ahead already, far too impatient for polite chats, and waited at the road crossing ahead. Aaron jogged to catch up, then turned the corner.

    As always he walked aimlessly around this part of the city - many shops, many appartment buildings, barely any buildings higher than five floors - soaking up the satisfaction of the workers finishing up or going home, the excitement of students going out to one party or another while summer vacation was still on, the simple joy of children playing in the streets and their disappointment when their parents called them in for the night. Soon, the sun set and the amber colors were swallowed up, replaced by soft shades of blues. Rarely he saw students fromhe knew from college- to be honest he barely knew any, he''d only started this year, and it was still awkward for him to interact with his fellow students - and when he did he merely waved friendly-like, accepted no invitations. Not so rarely, former customers called out to him, and he chatted with them briefly, always under the pressure of little Sid wanting to get going, to get moving, to not stand still.

    The little rabbit-like thing, with a cat-like snout and fiery eyes and auburn fur was always jumping this way or that, hunting stray cats, flipping skirts of unsuspecting women (who had more than once blamed Aaron, thank you very much), and generally causing mischief were he could. To Sid''s luck and Aaron''s headache, the little critter was invisible to most humans and exploited that fact to its fullest. After running up the sheer side of a building to snag tailfeathers of no less than 30 pidgeons, Sid had finally let off some steam (he wasn''t tired, of course, because he was Sid andSids didn''t get tired...) and settled on Aaron''s shoulder,bursting with pride at his spoils of war. Aaron had never understood what the conditions for this particular kind of war was, but even so he scratched Sid behind his long floppy ears, watching happily how the little critter''s stubby wings fluttered.

    "I demand reparation", Sid said suddenly.

    "From whom?"

    "From you, obviously!"

    "For what?!"

    "For my succesful, glorious campaign, of course!"

    "Of course. Which campaign exactly was that", Aaron asked dubiously.

    "Making you sneeze!"

    "Successful, yeah, but glorious?"

    "Reparation!"

    "Yes, yes, I get it. And what would your glorious self seem worthy of your grand victory", Aaron pronounced gravely.

    Sid scrunched his furry forehead. "This takes deep consideration. Steak!"

    "Yeah, no. I don''t have that kinda money..."

    "Kaviar!"

    "You don''t even know what that is", Aaron accused.

    "Hm? What is it?"

    "Fish eggs."

    "Bluergh! Who eats that?!"

    Aaron smiled.Attention diverted. Mission "Save Money" success. "Rich people, apparently."

    "Why? Is it actually tasty?"

    "Don''t think so. It''sone of those things that aredelicious, becausethey''re expensive, I think."

    "That makes no sense", Sid said.

    "Right?"

    "I don''t get humans."

    "Humans don''t get humans", Aaron said, feeling slightly philosphical, and then feeling absurdly embarassed for doing so. He shook his head and returned walking ignoring the frustrated hooting of dozens of pidgeons.

    Suddenly a wave of melancholia hit him.

    "Anyone there? Hello? Hello? Hello?! Heeellooooooo", a nasal, depressed voice called.

    Aaron stopped dead in his tracks and looked around. There were still a good dozen children out, but that voice belonged to no child - it was a mourning old man''s.

    "Hey", the voice called. "Don''t you want to play with me? I have many toys!"

    "What''s wrong, Aaron", Sid asked.

    "Someone''s calling", he said absently.

    "Please. I''m so lonely. Won''t you play with me?"

    "Again? Why do those nutcases all go to you", Sid said annoyed, but Aaron waved him off with a frown.

    Then, finally, he found what he was looking for. A couple feet in front of him stood an old vending machine. The kind with lots of little balls inside a big inverted fishbowl glas, where you needed to put coins into it, so that you''d get a toy. The glass was already scratched and hard grime had gathered at the edges of its panel. The slot for money had gotten slightly rusty. Here and there few edges had chipped and there was even a dark green stain of moss at its base. Apparently it didn''t get refilled anymore, because there were only about a dozen toys left.

    Aaron walked over with quick steps and squatted. "Hey, what''s wrong", he called.

    "Oh! Are you a customer!?Ah! But you''re way too old! Go away!"

    "Now that''s really rude. I''m trying to help here", Aaron said wryly.

    "I don''t want your help! I want to play with the children!"

    "So maybe I can help you play with them", Aaron asked patiently. He was inwardly annoyed, though, if only slightly.

    "You can", the machine asked, suddenly hopeful.

    "Maybe. So, tell me. What happened?"

    "It''s nothing that really happened. Children came at first to buy toys. And when they didn''t get the one they wanted, they''d try again. And when they''d finally gotten the one they wanted, they''d besohappy!" Waves of nostalgia rolled over the underlying thick air of melancholy and loneliness, when the toy vending machine spoke of its memories. But the waves soon ebbed and thick boulders of sadness broke the surface, again painting the air in the machine''s depression, and, Aaron knew, a certain harbinger of an impeding "But". "But I thought I could make them always happy, and so I gave them the toys they wanted from the start. And then they gotbored!" Aaron felt the depression turn into frustration, then into bitterness. An underlying resentment for the children, the machine itself likely wasn''t aware of. "So I made it really difficult to get the ones they wanted! But then they didn''t want to play anymore!"

    Aaron nodded. "I can''t do much for you. But we can at least play a little. Wait right here. I''ll be right back."

    "So? What''s it want", Sid asked dryly.

    "It wants children to play with it again."

    "Hmm... Hurry up then. This is boring."

    "So you haven''t seen that red-haired cat. The one sneaking glances at you", Aaron lied.

    Sid perked up. "What?! Where?!" His head swivelled from side to side, his long ears slapping gently against Aaron''s neck, the stubby wings bobbing rapidly in excitement

    "I don''t know... I only saw her once. She must be really skilled at stalking. Maybe better than you?" Aaron had to focus really hard not to grin.

    "What?! Noone''s better than me! Just you wait, kitty! Here I come!" With that Sid jumped off, his long legs pumping, sharp claws scratching the asphalt as he took off, racing around the street. Aaron finally allowed himself to grin, then looked for-Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    There! Aaron jogged over to the ice cream van, bought an obligatory scoop of ice cream, which he paid for with a ten dollar bill and asked for the change to be handed out in fifty cent coins. The van''s owner was slightly annoyed, but complied. Then Aaron dropped his waffle of ice onto the ground (where it "mysteriously" vanished in a blur of auburn fur) and went back to the vending machine.

    "Hey. I''m back."

    "Ok", it said. "And now?"

    "Now I''m gonna buy a toy."

    "I don''t want some old geezer to buy a toy from me!"

    "Too bad", Aaron sang and put a coin in.

    "NO! THAT''S ABUSE! THAT''S HARRASSMENT! HEELP! SOMEOOONE, HELP MEEEE!!"

    "Here. I. Go!" Aaron turned the dial and a little ball popped out. He twisted it open and looked at its content. He smiled. "Perfect."

    "HOW COULD YOU!!"

    "Oh, pipe down, will you? Just give me a minute", Aaron said and winked. He took the little ball, with its swirly yellow and purple and pink colours, out of the sphere and threw it on the ground. It bounced back up, rushing past his head and higher still and when it dropped back down he caught with ease, giggling. He slowly walked over to the group of playing children, soaking up their nigh-hysterical joy, their innocent excitement, that incredible gift to feel giddy for pretty much anything. He dropped the ball a few more times, until one of the kids noticed.

    Aaron winked at the boy, grinning.

    "A superball!" At once the other children looked over to Aaron, now, that their friend was curious, nosey as well.

    "Yup! Got it from the vending machine", Aaron answered and nodded down the street. The kid''s face darkened, as did the other''s.

    "That one''s bad luck. It only gives the bad things", the boy muttered, and the others agreed.

    "Really? But if only bad ones came out, only the good can be left, right? Wanna check?" Aaron pulled out the fifty cent coins and grinned at the kids. They seemed dubious at first, but in the end curiosity won, and they nodded.

    As one, they went over to the vending machine, a knot of kids swirling about Aaron''s legs.

    When the toy vending machine saw the kids it started calling, excited. "Oh yes! Oh yes! Come here! I''ll give you the nice ones! I don''t have many left, but I''ll give you the best I ever had!"

    Fifteen minutes later, each kid had a toy in its tiny hands: superballs (that jumped with ridiculous vigor, yet were so easy to catch one could do it with their eyes closed), pretty plastic rings (that looked deceivingly real) with huge rubies (that looked also real), little cars (that seemed to keep going forever) and little dolls (which seemed about to come alive).

    The old vending machine kept laughing as the children shouted gleefully about their new toys, discovering with every moment once again how great they were.

    "Thankyouthankyouthankyou", the machine shouted suddenly.

    Aaron turned with a smile. It was impossible for him not to be swept up in the euphoria surrounding him. "My pleasure." Then he saw the empty bowl. The implication, a fact that had been nagging at the back of his mind since the very beginning, the one that he''d chosen to ignore, became clear to him. This machine would never again give away its toys. It would be here, forever empty, always alone, until someone decided to send it to the junkyard.

    The vending machine seemed to notice Aaron''s tilting mood. "No worries. I''m done. I''ve done my duty. I''ve made children happy. I''ve sold all my toys. I''ve done my share. With your help. Thank you, Aaron Wilson."

    Aaron was shocked. He hadn''t mentioned his name, and even Sid hadn''t called him by his last name. The only possibility...

    "Goodbye. You''re welcome."

    A white halo grew around the machine, incredibly soft, but it emitted such a strong ray of contentment, like a sun all on its own. The nimbus of light burst into pinpricks ofwhite iridescence, which rose on swirling winds upwards and then disappeared in the sky. Aaron had seen this happen before, but only twice.

    "Look at that. It returned to Mother", Sid said beside him. Aaron hadn''t noticed him approach - he''d been too occupied with the happenings. Aaron nodded. Tears threatening to burst from his eyes. "One good deed a day, is it?"

    "Pure, dumb luck, actually", Aaron said, stunned.

    "Well, Mother will be grateful either way. That aside", Sid added, his voice suddenly serious. "Red cat, huh? Are youtrying to piss me off?"

    "Huh?" Aaron was confused. Then his mind calmed, and he regained his wits and remembered. He grinned mischievously. "Revenge has been taken!"

    "That''s it! This meanswar! Just you wait!"

    "Bring it, Sid!"

    "Mister, who are you talking to", one of the kids, a girl, asked.

    Aaron had totally forgotten about his surroundings. He thought of how ridiculous - no, howcrazy he must have looked, first talking to a machine, then staring at the sky, overwhelmed, and then spouting challenges at a spot just in front of his feet.

    "Erm...", he "said". Aaron scratched his head, then noticed strong suspiscions and slight aggression in his surroundings. Confused he looked around, then noticed several adults glaring at him. A woman was pointing at him and talking with two police officers.

    When he''d finally figured out, that the adults were the parents, and that "a suspicious young man was playing with their children and pulling them together, so they''d better call the cops", the police men had already gotten close. One of them said, "Can we talk to you for a moment? At the police car, if possible."

    Aaron hung his head in defeat. "Of course, Officer."

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 4</h4>

    Howard noticed far too late.

    They walked through the park and although it wasn''t terribly big, only the third of a mile wide, and twice as long, sight was terrible. The forest canopy was thick, and scrubs higher than a man where everywhere. The only easy way to walk were the paths of the forest and here visbility sucked, because if they didn''t twist left and right, they curved, so they only saw the lake when they practically stumbled into it. Well, not they. Only Howard.

    He''d been grumbling about how it was just a really bad idea to go to the nymphs without any backup, and so had heard Detective Linsner''s repetitive calls.

    "Bruckner!"

    "Huh?" He turned toward the detective at his side, but she wasn''t there anymore, she stood a couple feet behind him, at the beginning of the sand banks.Huh? Suddenly he noticed sand beneath his feet, and not looking where he went he hit a log of wood and stumbled and-

    The splash must have been loud, and the view of him flipping forward into the water must have been spectatcular, because after he''d gotten out and pushed his longish darkbrown hair out of his face and squeezed as much water as possible out of his suit,Detective Stick-Up-Her-Ass herself was still fucking giggling like a schoolgirl!

    "At least you could cool down, eh", she said, barely suppressing another fit of giggles.

    "Yeah. At least that", he said darkly.

    Shaking her head once,her usual no-nonsense, professional expression returned, and she said, "So? Where are the suspects?"

    Howard gestured for her to wait a moment, then opened his Third Eye. No eye in the physical sense, it was more of an omnidirectional awareness of supernatural energy (some called it mana, others nether, again somenone else chi... the names were endless, and therewere minute differences in the texture of the stuff, but its base component was always the same). At first it was just a distinct impression that there wassomething, the feeling one got if someone else stood behind you. But through training and visualization techniques and meditation and more training, a wizard could perceive mana as colorful ribbons in their sight. Which was mildly distracting at first, because the keener one''s senses got, the more he realized, that mana was actuallyeverywhere, surrounding, suffusing, penetrating every point in space - occupied by mass or not (curiously enough, itwaspossible to lower mana concentration in the air. Highly technological facilities were one example, sites, where incredibly powerful magic had been casted, another). But everything that existed interacted with mana, in distinct ways, sometimes more, sometimes less, but the usual rule of thumb said: "Things from the Other Side there? Mana does weird shit."

    And that was the challenge for a wizard to truly master the Third Eye, to filter the usual mana from the (attention: technical term) "Weird Shit". (The actual term is "Activity".) A true Master of the Third Eye was actually capable ofreading Activity, i.e. seeing whatexactly a spell does, orwhich creature is there before him, or, even, identifying singular personae. Howard was good with the Third Eye (it was, in fact, his best application of magic, because it didn''t need his lacking talent, "only" hard work), but he hadn''t become a Master of it. Yet (or so he hoped).

    But despite all his skill with the Third Eye, he still mistrusted what he saw, when he opened them at the lake in First Stone Park.

    He turned it off, rubbed his eyes, shook his head and turned it on again.

    Nope, still the same result:Nothing. Utterly nothing.

    Something prickled at the back of his neck, and his heart started pounding blood through his veins at a deafening rate.

    He tuned his filters so that even undisturbed mana should enter his sight.

    Still nothing.

    His breathing became shallow.

    He knew he was sweating, even if he couldn''t tell by the lakewater still clinging to him.

    He raised his Eye''s sensitivity. Nothing. Raised it still.

    There!

    Minute amounts of mana, like single droplets from a mist, rather than the usual puddle of background noise.

    Something had quite literally erased the mana in the forest. Along with Nature''s Envoys, apparently. Howard wasn''t sure if he actually hadn''t ever heard of such a thing, but at the moment, with fear nipping at his heels and panic strumming the walls of his belly, he could certainly think of none.

    He turned around, surprising the detective, and said, "Run.Run!"

    And with that it was done.

    Panic broke out, the ancient instinct distinctly choosing flight instead of fight and he ran.

    Moments later he broke through the dense forest and its unnaturally sharp edge, the dim sky welcoming him back, and harsh, clinical street lamps accusing him of cowardice. "Linsner!" He turned around in panic, not seeing or hearing her...

    He forced himself to calm down. Meditation exercises to calm his breath and heart rate (that he had usedfar too much since he''d been employed by the WFPD) started to work, and thoughts other than "dangerous", "get the hell out" and "what the flying fuck?" came to him, he rationalized. Linsner had had a late start. And she would have taken a bit more care than running cross-country through the dense forest (he acknowledged grudgingly that it wouldn''t have caused the bloody scratches in his face and the tears in his suit, had he done the same, but oh, well) and was likely walking the normal paths, to the car.

    Embarassed, and still strung up by fear he walked to the car.

    Of course, Detective Linsner wasn''t there, yet. She would be taking a far longer way.

    And yet, half an hour later, Detective Ann Linsner still hadn''t shown up.

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 5</h4>

    "Sorry, for the trouble, kiddo", the officer said.

    "No, no, I can totally understand, and I was acting weird, too, and no harm was done, so, no problem?"

    "Ha! Haven''t had an understanding kid like you in ages! Good bye, kiddo", the officer said, and entered his car.

    "Good bye, Officer", Aaron said and waved after the departing car. He looked around and saw - to noone''s surprise - that all the kids had left, likely gone inside, it was past ten after all, and from their parents only three remained staring at him, distrusting. Scratching his head and only managing a poor excuse for his clerk''s smile, he nodded to them and left swiftly. It wasn''t full dark, yet, but the street lights had turned on, and the sky was well away from a light marine, already a deep blue, except for the horizon, where the sun had set.

    "That took way too long", Sid said, yawning.

    "I know. Getting interrogated is so exhausting."

    "You got interrogated all the time, though."

    "Not all the time. Only when they were on my trace. And it was exhausting every time."

    "Don''t you get used to it", Sid asked, curious.

    "To the police''s psychological tricks? Sure. To every part of their uniform ranting at me? No fucking way." Aaron grimaced at the memory of twenty different voices telling him to confess, that it was really in his best interest to just come clear, how it was clearly better to rat out who he was working for and what he was doing, how they could only help him if he cooperated etc. etc. Actually keeping track of which of the barrage of sentences had come from the officer was a pain in the neck. It made him only happier to have met Cressinda and to be rid of Lando and his cronies. Of course Reno hadn''t been so lucky-

    "You''re going dark places, Aaron", Sid said forcefully.

    "You''re right. Sorry." Aaron forced himself out of past regrets, back into the here and now, stared at the first few visible stars and saw a man jumping from roof to roof, carrying atiny woman in a suit.

    "Sid", Aaron said.

    "Yup?"

    "That was a vampire, right?"

    "Yup."

    "And the woman was struggling?"

    "Yup."

    Aaron sighed. "Let''s go."

    "I''m getting steak for this", Sid said.

    <hr>

    <h4>Part 6</h4>

    Deciding that he''d waited enough as it is, Howard Bruckner forced himself back into the forest, his Third Eye scanning everywhere. Now that he looked he saw the trails he and the Detective had left. Threads of mana they had brought with them into the forest, floating lazily in the too empty air. By now full darkness had hit the forest, so Howard could only navigate by those trails.

    Usually a (decently capable) wizard could see in the dark by using the Third Eye to look at the surrounding mana, to at least get a rough sense for walls and corners. That was, of course, impossible when all the mana was simplygone.

    Howard kept his mind occupied, going through a veritable lexicon inside his mind, trying to come up just what had erased the mana.

    But nothing helped.

    He''d run, leaving the Detective (annoyingthoughshe was) alone in the forest with whatever. Whenever he didn''t actively think about something he threw curses at himself, "pussy" and "limpdick" were far from the worst, "coward" was outright nice.

    And even with that self-deprecation, it didn''t vanish.

    That overwhelming fear, that was haunting him at every step, every noise, every rustle of leaves, which wasobviously a predator stalking him and heclearlyhad to flee-

    No! Howard was a coward, but he had to do this. He was a third-rate wizard, but he had to do this, find the Detective and get her back, or - and of this he was certain - he''d throw himself into a hellish spiral of depression and self deprecation and hair-raising excuses, that would end his life as a wizard, and, likely, as a human, too.

    The only way to avoid a fate worse than death, was finding Detective Ann Linsner, and he hated,hated himself that he had to use such an egotistical reason to go to her help. "Save her to save yourself", was the only diversion the hound known as fear would accept.

    Shivering at the sudden cold, that fear had brought him, twitching at every noise and crying in horror at every branch that carressed his cheek, he finally found what he was looking for. Detective Linsner''s trail. Diminutive, weak, and surprisingly calm for a human reaction it had actually followed right after his own frenzied escape from the woods.

    She''d heeded him once, apparently. Howard coughed a laugh that held no joy.

    Following her trail, he saw where it ended.

    A blood-red stream of mana dashing perpendicular to their path of escape, scooping slightly down from above, crashing into the Detective''s trail, effectively wiping it out.

    Howard had seen this blood-red mana Activity before. Plenty of times. Because there were plenty vampires in Windfall. And one of them had Detective Linsner.

    Howling in frustration, Howard pumped his legs, racing after the vampire''s trail.

    Somehow ignoring the forest that scratched, and ripped, and tore at him he broke the edge for the second time, tonight, and watched as the trail was washed away by the usual sea of mana. Still, slight tendrils remained, and he saw the general direction they took.

    Flipping through his mental register for vampires, he filtered for the murderous ones first, then the ones daring enough to kill cops, then the ones stupid enough to not kill a wizard, who witnessed their crime. Well, Howard was not exactly a witness, but Ann Linsner had been notorious enough, to make herself a name on the Other Side. A name for being incredibly stupid, but at least it got word out that Howard Bruckner was partnered up with her. Howard Bruckner, a no-name third-rate wizard, who was by all accounts of no importance, but stilla full-fletched wizard, recognized by a council of wizards and therefore a valid witness beforeany wizard council.

    It was a desperate reasoning, but Howard was grasping straws, and it narrowed the list to only a handful of vampires, and only one had his territory in the direction the trail pointed.

    Crushing all doubts with the force only the desperate could muster, Howard released his Third Eye - right now it would only exhaust him more - sprinted to the Detective''s car, hotwired it for a futile, eternal thirty seconds, then, when the engine had finally started, he floored the accelerator and tore down the streets.

    He could make it to the vampire''s known habitat in just over ten minutes, if he kept the speed limit.

    He didn''t.

    He tore down the streets with some fifty miles per hour, and at one curve he almost forgot to decelerate. He only very barely made it, with luck, because the only pedestrian on the sidewalk - a kid barely twenty if even that old, staring at the sky and running somewhere - jumped spryly out of the way.

    Howard only saw him for an instant, an expression of disbelief and outrage on his face, but Howard had no time to deal with it.

    Then something heavy thumped on the car.

    Howard would have liked to react, but he was driving so far he couldn''t do anything, but calm his racing hard.

    Suddenly someone slid through the open window on the passanger''s side and took a seat.

    "WHAT THE FUCK", Howard shouted, but kept his eyes on the street. Only after he''d crossed another crossing did he look to the side-

    To see the youth he''d almost run over sitting beside him, smiling wryly.

    "Yeah, he''s going really fast", the kid said to his lap. Then he turned to Howard. "Hi, I''m Aaron. I thought you could use some back up?"

    "Uh. What?" Between talking to the kid and trying to stay in his lane Howard had completely lost his sense of direction.

    "Erm... We just passed them, you know", Aaron said, his face worried.

    "Huh? Oh, fuck!" Howard slammed the breaks, the car only just staying stable, then coming to a stuttering stop. As the kid had said, he''d passed the abandoned construction site, where the vampire was said to be housing. Howard had no idea why the kid knew, but a short check with his Third Eye proofed that he was no bloodsucker.

    The kid''s face showed true consternation. "Oh! That was dangerous! If Sid hadn''t hid, you might''ve gotten blinded", he said.

    "Huh? Sid? Who''s that?"

    Suddenly Howard heard a faint whisper in the wind. It became louder, a true choir of child''s voices singing ululating vowels, that kept getting louder and louder and deafening and Howard couldn''t see anymore, and feel nothing and heard only that choir-

    The sound vanished abruptly, and the kid was talking to a spot on the dashboard. He seemed angry, but Howard couldn''t make sense of the kid''s sentences. He was speaking and English and all, but... His mind just wasn''t ready for human speech just yet.

    Ten seconds later, Aaron turned to him and said, "We don''t have the time now, sorry! We need to get going!" Howard shook his head and blinked his eyes, but the kid had to repeat three more times before he got what he was saying.

    Oh, right. Linsner. "Fuck!"

    Howard slammed the door open, and rolled gracelessly onto the street. The kid helped him up, and Howard could clearly see the question forming in his mind:Shouldn''t you stay behind? But the kid''s soft facebecame hard, true steel, like he had seen only from seasoned warriors, the type that ate vampire''s for breakfast. The kid turned Howard around and gave him a rough push between the shoulders. "Let''sgo!"

    And Howard went.

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 7</h4>

    "He''s useless", Sid said, but Aaron barely understood him, over the cacophony of voices coming from the wizard''s clothes and tools.

    "Thank you!" "Help the Detective!" "We''re sorry!" "Please, help Howie!"

    And on and on and on.

    "He''s useless", Sid said into his ear.

    "He''s not", Aaron mumbled back.

    The wizard - Howie? - was running besides him down the street to the construction site.

    "He''ll die", Sid insisted.

    "Maybe", he admitted.

    "You''re fine with that", Sid asked, surprised.

    "No. But it''s his decision, not mine", Aaron said.

    "Who are you talking to", called Howie between huffs.

    "Erm... Sid. A spirit? Kinda."

    "I''mnot a spirit!"

    "You talk to spirits?"

    "And ghosts, yeah."

    "Aren''t they the same", the wizard asked.

    Oh, no, Aaron thought.

    "SPIRITS ARENOT GHOSTS", Sid screamed beside his ear. And the wizard''s tools chimed right in: "NOW LOOK HERE, HOWIE, WE''VE BEENVERY PATIENT WITH YOU, BUT THAT TOPS IT ALL!" "CALLING US SPIRITS, GHOSTS?!" "THE NERVE!" "OUTRAGEOUS!" "SUCH AUDACITY!"

    And on and on and on and on.

    Even after reaching the building they kept shouting and screaming and blaming his parents for their sightless upbringing of such a careless - nay,racist offspring. Aaron blended them out (or at least tried to) and bend down to the lock of the heavy steel door.

    "Fuck", the wizard cursed beside him. "How are we gonna get inside there? Didn''t think the sonuvabitch would seal the place up tighter than, fucking Alcatraz."

    "Howie, language!"

    "The guy speaks like a sailor", Sid complained. "A racist sailor."

    "Sailor''s are worse", Aaron mumbled absently. He pulled out his keys, to Cressinda''s store and whispered, "Hey, little one, I''m sorry, but I really need to get in. I know the keys don''t fit, but I really,reallyneed to get in."

    "What are you doing? Fuck! We gotta hurry! Linsner''s...Fuck!"

    "So annoying... I''m doubling the steaks Aaron."

    "Language, Howie!"

    Oh, for the love of god, be quiet,please!

    "Hey, little one. Wakey, wakey. Can you let me in", Aaron tried again.

    "Dammit, kiddo! What are youdoing?"

    "Yeah!" "Right!" "Help the detective" "Help Howie!" ...

    "He''s helping, you bloke. Aaron, that guy must have hit his head, right?"

    "Please, little one, I''m begging you here", Aaron whispered desperately.

    "Who''s there", the tiny door lock said.Finally!

    "Hey, could you let me in, please? My key doesn''t quite fit. But someone in there needs my help. Can you let met pass?"

    "But I''m not supposed to let anyone, but my master pass", the door lock answered.Of course. The only conscientious lock I ever meet, and I meet it today.Usually locks get quite grumpy after not seeing any oil for years and not once getting thanked for its efforts. They did their tasks, and did them well - only let the guy with the key open you, easy enough - but people had gotten so used to them, they barely registered after a week. So if a burglar came past, asking them to let him play a trick on their owners they played along. But a vampire that entered through roofs likely had not much use for locks didn''t use it much. And that gave it minority complexes, apparently.

    And Aaron really didn''t feel like exploiting that.

    "Ok. Sorry for waking you."

    "Bye."

    "Bye."

    "What are youdoing", the wizard moaned. He was close to breaking, Aaron realized.

    "Ah, sorry. I tried to do this gently, but looks like we need brute force. Sid, can you give us a lift?"

    "Hehe, I thought you''d never ask", the little furry creature answered, gleefully.

    "Seriously, who is Sid", the wizard said. Nearly all of his clothes and trinkets echoed him.

    Aaron gestured him to wait, and looked at Sid. "Partner? Please?"

    The little critter nodded. Then grew.

    His legs lengthened and his little torso expanded, his front paws growing fingers, adorned with menacing black claws, the stubby little wings on his back grew and grew even bigger, and his teeth lengthened to the size of fingers.

    Not five seconds later Sid - still crouching - had become some easyeight feet at the shoulders. Muscles rippled underneath the thick, now true-golden fur and the eyes the size of fists glowed a fiery azure. His head, now comparable to a working desk swivelled, left and right, slapping the huge ears, almost as long as Aaron was tall, and then he tested his wings, slim appendages with a span ofover twenty feet.

    The resulting wind gently brushed the wizard''s face.

    "Huh? That wind is Sid?"

    "Er... Not exactly. Sid, we need to hurry."

    "No problemo. We''ll be there in a jiffy!"

    The huge pranks grabbed Aaron and Howie respectively, then Sid flexed his legs andjumped.

    A rush of air and a sunken stomach later, Sid slammed through the window on the highest floor. Of course it was far too small for him to pass through unhindered. Fortunately Sid was one heavy badass and just tore down the surrounding wall.

    Aaron took the momentum to roll forward and come back up standing, scanning the room, spotting a steel bar, picking it up, then found the detective by noise - her handgun, police badge and handcuffs were shouting for surrender - and saw the vampire standing before her, looking at him, stunned.

    "What the hell", the vampire said.

    Beside Aaron, the wizard had stopped rolling and puked.

    Grand entrance... not.

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 8</h4>

    Dear Diary,

    Today I was grabbed by a huge, invisible "Sid" got lifted up six stories, crashed through a concrete, was bowled into a room with a very likely very deadly vampireand puked.

    It was a distinctivelyunpleasant experience.

    All in all not the worst day in Howard''s career as police consultant, but a close runner-up.

    "Oh god, the oysters!" Howard hurled again, retching until he was empty.

    Pro: The vampirereally didn''t expect that.

    Con: It really didn''t matter, because he couldn''t do shit.

    "Erm... Are you okay", the kid asked.

    "Do Ilook okay?"

    "Pussy." Thatwasn''t the kid. It came from behind him. Howard swung his head, and barely saw the blood-red eyes glowing in the dark shape against the street light coming in through the whole in the wall, before the vampire threw himself at him. "Fucking shit!" He threw his arms over his face and-

    A painful yelp sounded out and blessedly it wasn''t his own. Panicked, he opened his eyes and saw the vampire-

    "The hell", Howard muttered. It was getting thrown about repeatedly, here and there deep bloody trenches tearing itself into his body, sealing back up again only slowly.

    "Sid, are you fine", the kid called. "Ok." He turned to Howard. "Let''s go help your friend."

    "That''sSid?"

    "Yup, he''s pretty awesome."

    Howard pushed himself up - he decided to ignore the slimey puddle where he put his hands - then hurried over to Detective Linsner. "Um. Hi." So, now what? Things have been happening at a pace, that Howard just really didn''t know what to do anymore.

    "Free me, Bruckner", the detective snarled, ever her lovable self.

    "Oh. Yeah. Good idea."

    Two awkward minutes later, Howard was about to die of shame, when one of his amulets started to ring. It had been given to him by the Council of theGraceful Lake and- what did it do again?

    Oh, right! "Oh, fuck!"

    Howard jerked upright, looked panicky around the dark floor, and-

    "Erm... Kiddo? Can your Sid deal with a True Blood?"

    The kid turned to look at him - he''d been staying in the background, since they''d come to Linsner;considerate lad. "Huh? Oh. Ah, that''s good."

    What?!

    "We can talk withhim."

    What?!

    "You speak nonsense human. Call back your p-"

    "Sid, it''s okay. Come here", Aaron called, then more quiet to the dark shape amid the shadows, "Don''t call him pet, he gets cranky about that."

    Instantly the vampire-throwing stopped.

    "You have sense human. But we can''t talk. You entered one of mine''s territory and attacked him in malicious will. For that you die."

    Howard drew himself up. "Bullshit! Your fuckup of a clansmen abducted a cop!"Oh, yeah, good idea, Howard, piss off the Badass-Vampire-Overlord. "Sir", he added.

    "She came of her free will", another raspy voice said. Must have been the busted vampire. That was why it was so hard to nail vampire''s down. They''d just hypnotize there victims andwhoops there''d be no crime.

    "I did not", Detective Linsner shouted angrily. Apparently the vampire hadn''t gotten to that part, yet.

    "Yeah! He abducted her", Howard agreed.

    "Your witnesses", the ancestor asked.

    Howard swallowed. He hadn''t actuallyseen it happening. And in a situation where it was a victim''s word against the offender''s the ancestor would always believe his vassal. Vampire laws, urgh. Still. As things stood they were badly fucked-

    "I saw him", the kid suddenly said. "She was thrashing about and he just dragged her with him."

    "Yousaw him", the True Blood asked. Howard could practically hear that raised eyebrow.

    "Yeah. He was jumping over me, from roof to roof."

    "And you recognized them. Both. In detail. With her ''thrashing''."

    "Yeah."

    "Let me test that", the Ancestor said. Without warning something clanged loudly behind Howard. He turned and saw the metal pipe, the kid had picked up, had been impaled by a nightblack dagger. "Huh. Impressive. But I doubt your credibility."

    Oh. Come. On. That was why Howard hated vampire "trials". No matter how badly a law had been violated, vampire''s justcheated themselves out of it. Vampire law. Urgh.

    "Ah, I thought you''d say that. My employer would vouch for me, I think. She''s out drinking, though, so you might not want to ask her directly about this." He pulled something from his pants'' pocket.

    "A business card", Howard asked.

    "Yup." Aaron threw the card towards the True Blood.

    "I don''t care who your employer is- What?! Is this true?!"

    "Sure, it is. Noone is so stupid as to abuse her name, right?"

    The ancestor was silent.The. Fuck?

    "I understand. This matter is solved. Jacob, you''re guilty. You broke the treaty. By law you die."

    The raspy voice seemed about to say something, but the only thing that came out was a wet gurgle.

    "We are done here. I take my leave, humans."

    "Goodbye, True Blood Moitessiere", the kiddo said.

    "... Your name, human."

    "Aaron Wilson, sir."

    "Goodbye, Aaron Wilson."

    And with that he left.

    The kid scratched his head, as he turned towards Howard and the detective. "Erm... so, my part''s done, I think. So... Bye!"

    And like that he jumped out of the whole, where only minutes before there had been a window.

    "Bruckner?"

    "Yeah?"

    "What the hell just happened?"

    "No idea, Detective. But welcome tomy world."

 Chapter 2

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 1</h4>

    "Aaron", Sid said gravely, "I have changed my mind."

    "Huh? What do you mean", Aaron asked. He was almost back at the shop, and the streets were littered with youths on their way to the next club or bar. Cressinda and Agnes were among them, no doubt, just not in this particular corner of the city - Aaron was a joy-kill, apparently.

    "I don''t want steak any longer", he said.

    "What?!" Aaron turned forcefully to the little, furry beast on the low wall beside him. That had literally never happened.

    "I''ve made a decision! I wantrabbit", Sid declared.

    "That''s cannibalism", Aaron shouted, horrified.Oops.

    Aaron barely had the time to regret his poor choice of words, because suddenly sharp little teeth drilled into his bare calf.

    "OW!" Luckily Sid had held back and not broken the skin - he''d just inflicted pain. Hurt like a bitch, though.

    "So, I''m a rabbit now, huh? Want me to go apeshit on you", Sidasked flatly.

    "Oh, please, don''t, mighty Eldritch Beast", Aaron mock-implored. "Not like you could go ''apeshit'' if you wanted." Sid could only transform once every five to six days, since he was still a pup. Eldritch beasts grew a good dozen centuries old and they entered actual maturity only after their first hundred years. So even if Aaron had found the new-born Sid fifteen years ago, he wouldn''t ever see his friend grow into the prime of his life.

    Sid huffed. "I''ve noticed that your mouth is only big, when I used up Mother''s blessing."

    "I''m a careful person."

    "Yes, very careful. So careful, in fact, that you''d hunt a vampire."

    "Yeah, I get it. I''ll google rabbit later", Aaron grumbled.

    "Glazed. With honey. Andthick gravey."

    "Vegetables?"

    "Aaron...", Sid growled.

    "Carrots and mashed potatoes, then."

    "Noooo", Sid wailed. "I wantmeat!"

    "And you''ll get meat.And vegetables", Aaron said, forceful.

    "Making a proud predator eat vegetables", Sid mumbled. As Aaron swiped along his smartphone - he had the variety, that could take a lot of shit, like a modern Nokia 3310, for obvious reasons - he selected a few recipes, rejected most after skimming, and finally found one, that satisfied his demands.

    "Hmmm, seems like we got everything, but the rabbit. I''ll go buy tom-"

    "No need", Sid interjected. "I shall hunt one on my own! As a proud predator!"

    Aaron was doubtful for a moment, but Sidwas a capable hunter, so he quickly complied. They spent the rest of the walk in companiable silence - even if the two of them were the only silent ones nearby. Schoolkids laughing in drunk hysteria, college students laughing in drunk hysteria, office workers laughing in drunk hysteria... were the smallest of his problems. Dozens of ghosts and thousands of spirits babbling, berating, laughing, muttering, grumbling, screaming, wailing... It was a wonder Aaron had been able to hold a coherent conversation with Sid. Years of dealing with that at work.

    Finally they reached the shop. Aaron walked past the shutters and turned into a tiny side entrance, barely wide enough for his slim frame not to touch the walls with both shoulders andunlocked the heavy door. Above the cacophony of voices - the least of them from humans - he called, "Hey, Frank. Gary. Thanks for watching the house. Anything unusual?"

    The security door - decked in charms by none other than Cressinda Edgecombe, herself - answered, "No, sir, Aaron, sir! Everything perfectly alright!"

    "None passed, sir", the security lock reported. "Except for Ladies Edgecombe and Carter, of course, sir." Of course.

    "Keep up the good work then, you two. Good night."

    "We''ll do our best to grant an uneventful night, sir!"

    "None shall pass,sir!"

    When they were through the door and climbed the corkscrew stairs of the ancient limestone building - in the dark, because Aaron knew every corner of the house by heart - they were greeted with a chorus of "Hello!", "Aaron''s back!" and "Cressinda''s out partying!".

    Aaron faked a smile and dragged himself into his room. The door closed silently, because Johnny knew that Aaron liked it nice and quiet and therefore chose to not produce a sound whatever he did.

    "Thanks, Johnny."

    The door said nothing - in a companiable way, impossibly.

    And even so the stark room - even if there was only a bed (absurdly comfortable, because Betty loved him like a son) and a tiny drawer (that loved to "lose" Aaron''s clothes, because Timmy was a trickster only second to Sid) - the floorboards and the paint on the walls and the ceiling lamp and the window kept greeting him, asking him how his day was, inquiring why he was so late, if work had been nice, how the weather had been this evening...

    "Hi, Betty, Timmy."

    ""Hi, Aaron.""

    Sid climbed onto Betty and fell asleep at once.

    Which left Aaron to fix his perception.

    He stripped naked, pulled on a wide T-shirt and trunks, then dropped to the floor in the middle of his rooftop room, cross-legged.

    It hadn''t been his fault, Aaron thought. Getting nearly run over by a car (even if dodging had been easy enough) and feeling the waves of desperation, Aaron''s curiosity had taken over and he''d broken his conditioning, choosing to actuallyhear all the spirits'' voices. Good thing he had, too, Aaron believed truly, because - as Sid had said - Howie, the Wizard would have been torn apart (if he''d even found a way into the building). Aaron hated to feel so arrogant, but without him the woman would have been dead.

    He calmed his breath, using an ancient breathing technique Agnes had taught him, which forced his heart rate to calm down. He let the voices wash over him, all the hundreds of tiny whispers of all the tiny spirits living ineverything. Ignoring the words themselves, he concentrated on the underlyingtone they emitted, not caring for the message itself, that his gift allowed him to hear, but filtering everything except the medium, that transmitted the spirit''s words - the very piece of the Mother of the Mind''s own essence, that gave birth to spirits.

    The Mother was a being on a whole other plane of existence, different from humans, gods or even the one White God, she was a massive amalgamation of a foreign kind of energy, different from kinetic or potential energy, from the four fundamental interactions, and not the same as mana, either. It was a power of soul, ofbecoming alive, and, by sharing memories and meetings and emotions, beginning to live. But, because it was such a different type of power, completely different from anything of this world, because it was something alien that had entered this world, the spirits, that were birthed by tiny shreds the Mother of the Mind sent into this world, were utterly non-existentto most people. People, that could communicate with spirits were not unheard of, but they were restrained to individual spirits or certain types of spirits, and spirits with a particular minimum of power - spirits, who had shared (not absorbed!) a certan threshold of memories, emotions, bondings and experiences in general with sentient beings. Someone like Aaron, who could hear the wronged shout of a dropped paper clip, was by all standards impossible. When Cressinda had explained this to him, Aaron had immediatly thought he was just someone singularly perceptive to the Mother''s energies, but Cressinda had refuted him immediately - that would not have explained why he could speak with ghosts, she had said.

    As Aaron sat cross-legged in his room he spent a good half hour to atuning himself to the Mother''s power. When he finally had a firm grasp of it - not the "sonic" travelling through the "air", but the "vibrating air" itself, if Aaron had to use some semblance of analogy - he concentrated on itstinge, the emotions the spirits wanted to share with their voices.

    At first he felt nothing. Just a white static, a steady "wind" blowing in his "ears". Then, slowly, he felt it. A light caress of "wind" stroking his cheeks. A murmur of a "lullaby" beneath the roaring "wind". A "sigh" of relief distorting the static until it was "audible". His room welcoming him home.

    And then, suddenly, it all snapped back, the voices of the small spirits disappeared in a song of life, a cloud of emotions around him.

    Aaron hadenough reasons for a hundred people to love Cressinda Edgecombe, but this particular gift of hers had made him eternally grateful - Instead of the deafening, mind-numbing cacophony of voices (that never held malice, by themselves, which only made it worse) he could listen to this singular song of soul, that made him feel more connected to everything, than anything else he''d ever experienced. Aaron didn''t know what genius it took to devise this technique without evenknowing what Aaron felt - his descriptions could only go so far - but he couldn''t bring himself to care. Hadn''t been able to. In fact he''d just dropped to his knees, tears streaming from his eyes and kissed Cressinda''s shoes.

    The memory brought a sudden rush of shame, but also warmth, and Aaron smiled.

    He rose, now tranquil once more, finally part of the world again, instead of some lost lamb plagued by screaming noise, and turned to the bed. Somehow, little Sid had occupied the whole bed, the way cats could do so effortlessly. Smiling, he said, "Ah, that looks a little cramped. Pretty please, Betty?"

    "Well, since you asked so nicely, Sweety", the bed - harboring a spirit strong enough to break through Aaron''s filter, not that he minded - answered and suddenly doubled in width. "Sweet dreams, Precious."

    "Good night, Betty. Timmy. Sid."

    Sid grinned and scooted over.

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 2</h4>

    "So. We need to talk about last night", said Detective Ann Linsner. No "Hello", or "Thanks for (helping to) save me", or even a conversational "Nice weather, huh". Nope, straight to the heart of the matter, the horrifying, ugly, steaming pile of ox manure, that was yesterday evening''s incident.

    Howard tried for a playful smile, and failed horribly. He''d dreaded coming to work this morning, which was why it had been already midway, when he''d trudged up the stairs to the third floor of the police station (why use the elevator, if it was possible to squander so much time, time that he''d have to spent with the detective?) and knocked at Detective Linsner''s door. Not even allowing him to so much as brief, she''d thrown that magnificent straight.

    Strike One.

    "Yeah, last night was quite-"

    "I do understand that you''re not trained for danger, and you''ve warned me often enough about the dangers of vampires, but for better or worse, the two of us arepartners, so I need you to at least talk to me, ok?"

    Strrrrrrrrrike Two!

    "Hmhm. Sorry."

    "Good. So, you''ve been twitchy about vampires the whole time, but last night was special - what happened in the forest?"

    "What? Well, you were kidnapped?"

    She rolled her eyes. "Before that, Bruckner." She said "Bruckner" like it meant "Stupid".

    "Hm? Oh, right!" Howard remembered that eery absense of mana. He had completely- well, not forgotten about it, but it had been on the very bottom of his priorities. Other things had just been more imminent, like "Who the hell was that kid", or "Who the hell is invisible Sid-Who-Plays-With-Vampires-And-Jumps-Through-Concrete-Walls", or "Holy-fucking-Jesus-on-a-motherfucking-stick I''ve pissed off a True Blood, who is also among the Signers, I am so fucking dead!". That last one sort of held a steady first place on his list.

    "Bruckner? You still with me?"

    "Er, yeah", he said, torn from hisreminiscence. "Forest. Right." He seriously wondered what that bloodsucker had wanted. He''d likely captured the detective to... what? Cover his trails? That made no sense. His Activity had been so ridiculously stark against the noiseless forest, it would have been visible for days even for wizards unskilled in the Third Eye. Maybe to lure Howard out? No way. He could have just sniffed him out - being a vampire and all.

    "Bruckner", Detective Linsner asked again, with a raised eyebrow.

    "Ah, sorry, I just don''t get it." She made a rolling gesture - complete with rolling eyes and all -indicating him to continue. "Well, in that forest - there were no Envoys."

    "Envoys?"

    "Ah, sorry. Nature''s Envoys - dryads and nymphs."

    "The suspects", she simplified. "So they''d fled? Culprits do that."

    "Yeah, except that not all that flee are guilty... But that''s not what I meant. Or rather, that''s what I think. They were just... gone. Not just them - alllife. I mean, sure, there were trees and insects and squirrels and stuff-"

    "Seems like plenty life to me", she said. A joke? From Detective Linsner? She had to be more rattled from yesterday night, than she let on.

    An irritating peng of shame stabbed at him. He ignored it and kept explaining. "Yeah, hah hah, I meanmagic. There wasno magic. That''s goddamned weird! And, no, nymphs and dryads fleeing, doesn''t do that. I mean, I''ve never seen that shit in my life - never even heard of it! I got no fucking clue - but I don''t get what that vampire did there. If he wanted to keep this under wraps, kidnapping you and leaving me alive was just plain stupid."

    "Maybe he wanted to lure you out", she reasoned.

    "I don''t think so. There was no reason. A vampire could have traced my scent from you all the way to my appartment. If he wanted to catch me it was... roundabout - uselessly so."

    "I see. But that makes it simple, right", she said, stroking her sharp jaw unconsciously with a delicate finger. She did that when she was satisfied from solving a problem -andwhy the hell did he know that?! She smiled smugly, too, when he simply blinked at her, uncomprehending. "It was a coincidence."

    "Huh?"

    "The vampire "picked me up" by chance. He doesn''t have anything to do with the strangeness in the forest."

    "That''s... one hell of a coincidence", he said, slightly incredulous.

    "Yeah. I don''t like coincidences either. But, truth is stranger than fiction, right? And if there is no reason for things to be connected - why should they be?"

    "So... you''re saying the vampire, the vanished mana, and the disappeared kids are happenstance?"

    She shook her head, appalled. "I don''t believe inthat many coincidences. I''m just saying that the forest''s strangeness and the vampire are not connected. The kids either disappeared, because of whatever''s going on in there,or because it was the vampire''s hunting ground. Both work, we just don''t know which is accurate", she explained patiently.

    "That''s... smart."

    She raised her eyebrow again - anabsurdly threatening expression - but chose to ignore his thoughtless oral manure. "So, our next move is clear."

    Oh, no. "Back to the scene of crime?"

    "Smart", she said in the exact same of tone I had used. "Don''t worry, I have a new gun so the big wolf won''t eat me, once you abandon me."

    Strike Three and out.

    <hr>

    <h4>Part 3</h4>

    Marina Mancebo read the large brass plate stretching from one side of the old limestone building to the other, sitting like an almost-golden crown on top of the windowfacade, that gleamed in the rising morning sun.Edgecombe''s Antiquities, Curiosities and Heirlooms. Her friend Sara Lincoln had bought a love potion here and her highschool crush since kindergarten had become her boyfriend the day after she''d slipped it in his drink. Marina wasn''t sure if it hadn''t simply been thatridiculously tight top, that nearly sprang Sara''s boobs in his face, that had caught his attention, but this was the best lead she''d had after trying a dozen shops like it. Net reviews were positive, too.

    Here goes nothing, she thought and slapped her cheeks for motivation. Steeling her mind she crossed the cobbled road, took the three steps and opened the door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a cute brass bell - that didn''t ring. Its line connecting it to the ceiling had been hoisted up and effectively shortened so the door wouldn''t hit it when it opened or closed.

    "Welcome toEdgecombe''sAntiquities, Curiosities and Heirlooms. My name is Aaron, how may I help you", said the store''s employee. He looked a tad older than Marina and maybe an inch or two taller.Short, messy, mouse brown hair, green eyesand a slim, wiry frame, he was good-looking in a normal kind of way - part of the crowd, but pleasant to the eye, when you actually looked. Clean, white shirt with short sleeves, no accessories and light skin tanned by Windfall''s harsh summers, Marina quickly decided that he was too much part of the background for her tastes - the guy lackedimpact. Kelly might like him, though, she had a thing for the plain ones.

    Marina returned the smile a little unsure and said, "Hi, I''m looking for a spell book."

    The boy - Aaron blinked. "Oh. Er... What exactly are you looking for", he asked, his polite smile turning wry.

    "A book that teaches spells. Duh." The guy''s cluelessness was getting annoying pretty fast, Marina decided.

    "Oh. Of course. Duh." He paused and looked around the cluttered room, unease growing apparent on his beardless face. "I''m sorry to say, but we don''t sell spell books, miss."

    "What?! Your a magic store! Sell magic stuff, dammit!"

    "Wedo sell magic books, miss. Just not spell books", he said with a smile, that tried not to offend Marina. But that was already useless, the prick was toying with her!

    "Oh, that''s fuckingit", Marina shouted menacingly. "Bring out your boss!"

    Instantly the ass was flustered. "M-miss, please, don''t shout, we don''t need to-"

    "Heeeellooooo", she called instead. "Anybodyheeere?!"

    Aaron winced. From a curtained doorway came a muffled thump and he visibly paled. Soon, a slim white hand pushed aside the curtain and an obviously hung-over woman in a slutty night robe came out. The woman had luxurious black hair twisted in a loose pile on her head, a tight waist and great ass, and huge real-looking breasts, that had to be fake and gave Marina complexes. A beautiful face marred with not enough sleep said in a tired, but way too sultry voice, "You called?"

    "Cressinda,clothes", Aaron shouted, eyes clenched tight.

    The woman rolled her eyes and turned away, mumbling, "Damn virgin."

    "Your boss''s floozy", Marina asked, even more annoyed.

    He blinked. "Sheis my boss, actually. And no floozy, in fact." Looks likeI pushed a button there. Poor guy. But before Marina could dig deeper, the woman returned, a thick bathrobe folded around her.

    "Cressinda Edgecombe. What did my assistant screw up", she asked in a flat voice.

    "He''s fucking around with me, is what he screwed up", she answered, her anger at him returning. "I want to buy a goddamn spell book, and he won''t cough up!"

    "I''m sorry, miss, but we don''t sell spell books here. If you''ll see yourself out? I''m boing back to bed. Aaron, I want gazpacho for dinner-"

    "Now, wait a fucking moment", Marina exploded. "This is amagic store, right? Your fucking prick justtold me you soldmagic books! Are you kidding me?! I amso posting this on yelp!"

    The bitch made a disgusted sound. "Aaron, deal with this. I''m going back to bed." And with that she left, and a stammering Aaron behind.

    "Er... Miss, I think there has been a miscommunication, maybe?"

    "Oh,really", she asked, already unlocking her smart phone.

    "Magic books and spell books really aren''t the same, miss."

    Marina perked up. "What?"

    "Speel books are books that teach spells. Magic books aremagical books", he explained, embarassed.

    Oh. "You''re not fucking with me?"

    "No, miss. Spell books hold the teachings of entire Magic Cabals, that''s why they guard them jealously - selling them is a sure way to attract trouble."

    "Oh. So, like... sorry?" Marina could feel her face growing hot.

    "That''s fine", he replied kindly. Then his face grew blue, though. "Although, I''ll need to explain to Cressinda why there''s rabbit tonight, instead of gazpacho." For some reason that seemed to frighten him badly, and he he shuddered.

    "Sounds rough", Marina said under her breath.

    Then, Aaron shook himself and his polite smile returned, professional-like. "But, maybe I can help you anyways."

    "Ok. I need a ...book to find people", Marina said seriously.

    He hummed. "Could you be a little more specific than that?"

    "My sister."

    Aaron blinked. Then nodded, gestured her to wait a moment and knelt behind the waste-high counter. She thought she heard him whisper to himself, but couldn''t understand anything. Aaron stood back up and smiled at her. "That will be twelvethousand dollars then", he said, smiling.

    Marina was silent for a second. "WHAT?!"

    Aaron shrunk back, surprised. "Miss?"

    "The fuck do you mean,twelvethousand dollars?! That''s like...WHAT?!"

    "But, that''s on the cheap side? It''s a magic book, miss."

    "But... who has that kinda money?!"

    He seemed to realize something. "Miss, you''re no wizard, are you?"

    "Of course I''m not!"

    For some reason his face showed a troubled look. "You''re not from the Other Side?"

    "The other side? My parents are from Mexica, but I was born here", she answered, surprised at his sudden remark.

    "Of course", he mumbled, then, louder, "Miss, I don''t think you''d really want to buy the book. Maybe I can help you some other way. Please, take a seat, I''ll go make some tea." He gestured to an old-looking set of white table and chairs, then left through the curtained doorway.

    "I want coffee", she shouted after him.

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 4</h4>

    "Bruckner", Detective Linsner said as they neared First Stone park in her silver staff car and she stopped at the red traffic light.

    "Hm?"

    "I am surethat is no coincidence", she said and pointed at a couple, that crossed the street in front of them. A pretty, hispanic teenager in a light blue summerdress and a caucasian guy maybe acouple years older than her, wearing a white shirt and grey shorts.

    "A couple? Sure, looks like they''re heading for the park, but..."

    "Take another look at the male", she said, feeling smug, apparently.

    "Should I- oh."

    "Yeah, makes you wonder why Aaron Wilson is here of all places, huh?"

    Howard felt like he was about to develop a serious case of heartburn - he sometimes wondered he hadn''t already. "Could be coincidence", he said hopefully.

    She only raised an eyebrow.

    "Maybe he''s just out with his girlfriend", Howard insisted desperately.

    The lights went green and the detective drove on.

    "We''re tailing them, aren''t we."

    "Obviously", she said flatly.

    "May I point out that a True Blood backed off of him?"

    "Sure."

    "You don''t care, do you."

    She smiled.

    Howard sighed and decided to get some antacids.

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 5</h4>

    "Is it ok", Marina asked beside him. Aaron tilted his head and looked at her, asking-like. She was emitting waves of unease, worry, but also strong determination - which was one of two reasons why Aaron had decided to take her along. She was decisively grounded in the Illuminated Side, there was nothing special about her, no skill that might keep her alive when dealing with the Other Side. And without Sid here - he was still out hunting - Aaron wasn''t sure he could sufficiently take care of her. But he needed her bond to her sister to get the cheerful spirit inhabiting the twin bracelets the sisters shared -the spirit''s name was Marisol - to find its other part. They could have done it anywhere, but being close to where Marina''s sister Lucia had been last would help. It might also tell Aaron what he was up against.

    Also, Marina was fiercely determined to find her sister - and Aaron knew of things more important than life. Should Marina die trying to save her sister that would be her choice. Aaron''s fault, maybe, but her choice. So he took the burden and the sister to First Stone Park, where Lucia and her friends from college had decided to hold a party.They likely pissed off some nymphs, he thought.

    "Shouldn''t we, like, call the police? They have that special task force set up, right?"

    "They do. The SCI."

    "So why don''t we call them?"

    Aaron smiled wryly. His human decency told him, that being so blunt was incredibly arrogant and dismissive of other people''s honest efforts. On the other hand it was plain truth, he knew. "If this is some matter from the Other Side, they will be useless. They are a hastily, naively set up unit, that usually has no idea what they''re dealing with, and if they do know that, they don''t knowhow to deal with it."

    Marina was silent for a moment. "That sounds harsh."

    "It is", he admitted. "But it''s also true."

    "O-kay... So why do you know so well", she asked suspisciously. "Are you a magician or something?"

    "Wizard."

    "Huh?"

    "You meant wizard, not magician. They get touchy about that - don''t want to be compared to Copperfields and Chris Angels, see?"

    "Oh, I get it." Then, after a few moments, she added, "Nice dodging the question."

    Aaron smiled wryly.The girl wassharp. "No, I''m no wizard. I just have a lot of the right kind of friends."

    "That sounds like dodging a question."

    "Vague phrasing, more like."

    Aaron was worried she''d dig deeper, but she left it at that. They turned a corner and could see the forest down the street. Something about it made him frown. He couldn''t put his finger on it, butsomething was off.

    "What''s wrong", Marina asked.

    "Don''t know, yet." Aaron frowned. As they neared the line of trees it felt like his vision was impaired. A sense of hollowness radiated from it - and then he realized it. The spirits'' voices were gone. Their absence let the forest emit an oppressive wave of silence, and it unsettled him. Having lived his entire life with the constant - even if oftentimes maddening - whispers, not hearing them felt lonely, and deeplywrong. "Marina. If you''re not absolutely sure you should not come with me."

    That earned him a glare. "I''m coming", she said darkly.

    Aaron nodded and entered the forest.

    Not ten meters behind the trees, the vibrating emotions in the air vanished, except for Marina''s clunky determination and fluttering nervousness. Three years ago Cressinda had taught him how to use his talent to connect himself to the surrounding''s emotions and it had become like an additional sense - losing it felt discomfortingly disabling.

    "Are you okay", Marina suddenly asked.

    "Yes", he said reflexively. "Not really. I''m feeling blind in here", he admitted, after being stared at.

    "Yeah. Those trees are kinda creepy, right?"

    Yes. Dead-creepy. "Mhm." Shortly after Aaron noticed a bundle of suspicious curiousity bursting with energy and a languid trepidation tightly entertwined with a gooey sense of surrender and punctured by shiny dots of true fear trotting after them, keeping steadily behind a curve.

    "Someone behind us", Marina asked in a whisper, making Aaron blink. Sharp indeed.

    "Acquaintances of a sort", he said, nodding. Aaron turned and called a greeting, "Detective Linsner, Mr. Howie, good day to you."

    "The name''s Howard Bruckner, kiddo", said the wizard, stepping around a wide tree trunk.

    "Dammit, Bruckner! That''s not how you tail someone", cursed his partner. "Well then, Aaron Wilson. I''ll have you answer a few questions for-" She blinked. "You''re... Marina Mancebo, the sister of Lucia Mancebo, one of the disappeared students."

    "Er... yes", Marina said, slightly confused.

    And suddenly the police officer drew her gun.

    Yeah, the cops justlove me, Aaron thought.

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 6</h4>

    So, Howard almost shat his pants.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    He''d "seen" some invisible ghost - er, spirit called Sid toy with a vampire, like a cat toyed with a mouse. A huge, invisible cat, that tore down concrete walls. Thus, seeing Detective Ann Dumbass Linsner pull a gun on this invisible monster cat''s owner felt like getting tossed on a cliff. To his credit he was mostly able to ignore that rush of fear - it wasn''t the first time she poked the insert-dangerous-being-here with a stick.

    Howard was about to intervene, when the kiddo said, "Oh, hey, you don''t want to shoot me right?"

    The detective frowned. "I don''t want to, but I sure could use the practice", she said.Way to spout awesome one-liners, but read the mood!

    But Aaron ignored her. "I''m not one of the bad guys", he said, slightly upset. "I even helped her, right?"

    Huh? Oh. He helped "her". So he wasn''t talking to the detective, right? Talking to some spirit, likely. Opening his Third Eye and toning it down to extreme sensitivity, he could see, what could only be seen in this forest devoid of mana - the whisps of energy attached to any living person, usually drowned out by the world''s noise, and tiny trails showing where they had gone before. And there, right in the detective''s hand, an impossibly small shift in the mana.

    Howard scratched his head. There was no other spirit around - its mana would have given it away in this void forest. Nothing that could have done this. Meaning, the kid hadtalked the gun into not shooting at him. That was weird on an epic scale. He had heard of people talking to spirits - it was said they sang in weird voices, but that could be just due to unclear sources, because life talkers were rare - but they all talked to spirits with power above a certain minimum. Somewhere strong enough, that they could rise above the background Activity.So, talking with agun, and getting aresponse? That was nuts.

    "Ah, thanks. We can talk while walking, right", Aaron said amiably, then turned back around and kept walking into the forest. The hispanic teenager gaped at him, then at the gun - still trained at him - then back at him... then shrugged and followed after him.Tough girl, that one, Howard thought.

    "Stop", Linsner shouted. "Stop, or Iwill shoot!"

    To his shame Howard really wanted to see what was going to happen.

    "Stop", she shouted again. Then pulled the trigger. In a weirdly unsurprising way, nothing happened. The detective frowned and pulled the trigger another couple times, but nothing happened. Pointing the gun at a nearby tree, she pulled the trigger again. A loudbang resounded, startling him, the girl and the detective (annoyingly the kid was cool as a slush drink), as the little ball of lead tore a couple splinters from and a hole into the wood. Triumphantly she turned back and aimed the gun at the kiddo''s feet, pulled the trigger yet again - nothing happened. Apparently at the end of her wits she turned towards Howard, askance.

    He just ignored her, then jogged to catch up.

    "Hey, how are you, Siddy", he called amiably.

    Aaron Wilson smiled wryly. "He''s not here Mr. Bruckner. Also, calling him ''Siddy'' is a sure way to get onself bitten."

    "Huh. I''ll remember that. Where is he?"

    "Hunting dinner, is what he said."

    "Oh. There any good game around?"

    Howard took perverse joy in the way the latina girl gave her best to hide her confusion behind a mask of focused stoicism.

    "Rabbits, apparently."

    "Uh. What?"

    "Rabbits", Aaron repeated.

    Thinking of the staggering amount of rabbits necessary to satisfy a huge uber-Sid distracted Howard and he staggered over a suspiciously spiteful root. He would have addressed it to a dryad''s prank, but then he remembered where he was. His skin prickled as the fear he had pushed away with trivial smalltalk returned slowly. "On another topic. The spirits say anything about the Envoys?"

    Aaron''s face darkened. Hardened. The look of a warrior Howard had seen on him just yesterday. But before the kid could answer, the latina asked, "What envoys?"

    Howard blinked. An askance look towards Aaron and he said, "She''s from the Illuminated Side." Then he turned toward the girl and told her, "He''s talking about Nature''s Envoys. Dryads and nymphs, mostly. There are others, but in this forest, there were only those two kinds."

    "Oh. Are they nice?"

    "Now, that''s a tough question to answer, girly", Howard drawled - he was a little proud of his drawl, there were just not many chances to show off. Also, "girly" earned him a glare, that would have made Linsner proud. "They''re right nice if you''re being friendly - but they get all kinds of nasty if you piss them off."

    "How do you piss them off", she asked nervously.

    "Polluting their forests, mostly", he answered.

    She gulped and turned frightened towards Aaron, but he shook his head. "No. They didn''t take your sister. They''re gone. Like all the other spirits in this forest. Or ghosts."Oh, right. He said he can talk with ghosts, too, Howard thought. Fucking weirdo.

    "Wait", Howard suddenly said, blood draining from his face, heart quickening. "No spirits?"

    "Yeah."

    "Like, none at all? Not a one?"

    "Exactly", Aaron said. "Scary, right?"

    Damn right, it''s scary!

    "So, whatcha gonna do", he asked instead.

    "What I need to do", he said matter-of-factly. Yeah, the kid had steel in his veins. He stopped suddenly. "We''re her", Aaron said. He turned towards the girl. "Marina, please try to think of your sister. The day you bought the matching bracelets. The things you liked to do together. How it was like to quarrel with her. Think of how much you want to meet her again."

    "That all I have to do", Marina asked.

    Somehow, without Howard noticing the detective had caught up with them, silent, watching Aaron Wilson now. Eerily, she was being patient, her gun holstered. "What is he doing now", she whispered to Howard. He didn''t really know, but the kid only had one trick in his repertoire, so it wasn''t hard to guess.

    "Guess he''s going to ask the bracelet to find the sister", he murmured back.

    "He can do that", she asked surprised.

    "Well, he talked your gun into not shooting him, right?"

    That shut her up.

    When he turned his attention back to the teens, Aaron rose back up from where he had knelt beside the girl''s wrist. "I know the way", he said. "But you really shouldn''t come." It was clear to Howard that he was talking to all of them.

    But neither of the females would have any of it.

    "I''m going to where my sister is!"

    "If you know where the disappeared students are, then that''s where I will go, Wilson!"

    Aaron looked at him, slightly unsure.

    "That bad", Howard asked.

    He nodded. The kid steeled himself, then walked ahead. "Sid", he shouted loudly. "We''re going on a dragon hunt!"

    Fucking shit, Howard thought.

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 7</h4>

    "What''s a dragon", Marina asked the old man. Well, he wasn''told-old. But maybe middle-old? She couldn''t really tell, his skin was creased around the eyes - too much moping, she thought - and the stooped way in which he moved his lanky beanstalk-tall frame looked as if he was about to get a slipped disk. The old, battered, grey suit looked cheap, too, and he seemed just generally unhappy. Still, he was the most approachable out of her three companions. The police woman - Detective Linsner - was focused almost maniacally on Aaron and the shop clerk had been weird ever since they''d entered the forest - at first only nervous, but now, she knew, he was furious. A molten rage tightly controlled, only visible by the tightness around his eyes, the slightly strained neckmuscles and the clenched fists in his pockets.

    And so she bothered the tall... wizard, supposedly, because she wanted a way out of the bad atmosphere. And the frightened, bloodless-faced man seemed all to happy to oblige, apparently. "Huge, scaled, winged. Like to spit fire. Also like to take human shape. Have a fondness for slinging major bad magic - bad with a capital ''B''."

    "That... sounds dangerous."

    "Huh. You think?"

    Okay, Marina, time to change the topic. "So, who is Sid", she asked instead.

    That made him snort. "Hell, if I knew. Some invisible badass-whatever, that plays with vampires."

    Marina blinked. "So... we have a chance?"

    This times the laugh sounded forced and desperate. "But the kiddo said Sid''s out hunting, remember?"

    "Oh. Right." She looked around the neighbourhood they were walking through. They were moving swiftly along a broad, neatly tarred street, lined with expensive cars like she''d seen on her school''s parking lot - the one with the expensive rates only the rich kids could pay. "But he called for him, didn''t he", she added. On their way here Aaron had stopped at a seemingly random trash can, scooped around in it and pulled out a spentspent carpet knife - he didn''t say anything and Marina wasn''t about to ask the crazy kid whispering to a knife.

    Howard glanced nervously left and right, scanning the trimmed bushes of the large front gardens on both sides. "Well, the kiddo seems to know what he was doing, so... good luck?"

    Studying the opulent mansions, Marina felt slight pangs of envy - her family owned a house at a cul-de-sac on the other side of town, but even if it left her never wanting for anything, it just couldn''t compare to this seemingly casual display of wealth. If it had been just one house, she would have ignored it, but all of them? It was simply unfair.

    "You think he''ll find my sister", she asked.

    The wizard scratched his cheek and was about to respond, when Aaron pointed. "Over there." He pointed at a large brick wall surrounding a - at a glance - huge plot. Peeking over the ten feet wall was a blakc slate roof, and the very edge of white plastered walls. Before anyone could say something, Aaron walked towards another building, then aimed for the wooden garden door. With swift handmovements it opened and he was through, expecting them to follow, apparently.

    "That''s... trespassing, right", the wizard said hopefully.

    Marina ignored him, kept walking. Behind her the police woman said, "Grow some balls, Bruckner." Her measured steps soon came after Marina, followed by the tall man''s slouching ones.

    "Is he always like that", Marina asked.

    "Quiet", Aaron interrupted curtly. He stepped in three nimble movements on top of a garden shed, in a low tree''s crown overhanging from the neighbouring plot and was gone from sight.

    Was she supposed to copy that? Well, she was going to save her sister, and that was that!

    She ignored her hot cheeks, when even the lanky wizard climbed better than her.

    Ten minutes and three more gardens later, they stood at the brickwall facing away from the street. Marina was slightly impressed that Aaron had found his way here with such certainty, but didn''t let it show - she was one out of three parts certain he''d done it only to shake her off! Waiting three minutes in silence - apparently only to let her catch her breath - Aaron then said, "The students should be downstairs."

    "Yeah, kiddo," the wizard said, "there''s no way we''re sneaking in here." He eyed the top of the wall, then added, "This place is covered in detection spells. We go in there, and we''ll have the whole mansion after us. Don''t know how many there are, though."

    Aaron nodded. "That''s why I''ll distract them. I''ll make some noise, while you sneak in and free the others. There should be a window of the basement to the right of the backdoor, enter there." How did heknow that stuff. "Marina. What you''ll see down there is going to be horrible. But you need to focus and stay strong, okay?"

    "Huh?! Er. Sure."What?

    "Good," he said, nodding again, then turned towards her wrist. "Marisol, I know you''re exhausted, but when you''re down there you''ll need to help Lucia, Marina and Eva." Who was Eva? "I''m asking much, but that''s what needed to save them. Lucia is still alive, but she''s not well. Youneed to help them, okay?"

    He bobbed his head to some silent answer, then turned towards the wizard, Mr. Bruckner. "You break the spell on the window. It''s a powerful one, but the fool killed all magic here, so you should be able to disconnect it at the seems, right?"

    The tall man blinked, surprised, then gestured assent.

    "Detective Linsner, please, help the students out of the cellar. I''ll try to clear the ground floor as fast as possible and then stay upstairs."

    "I... understand." She seemed surprisingly uncomfortable, but she seemed to see reason somewhere. Marina didn''t really get why that career woman would just nod her head at everything the plain clerk said, but apparently the air of competence he exuded convinced her.

    "Good. Everyone ready?"

    Marina raised her hand. "How are we going to climb over ten feet of wall? You can do it maybe, but-" He pulled out the old, empty carpet knife and showed it off. With a snap of his wrist a gleaming blade, easily three feet long shot out of the handle and he twirled it twice. "Okay. Now what", she asked, skeptically. Aaron Wilson turned,swished the blade at the wall three times, thenpushed with his hand and a neat triangular portion of the wall, with angled sides popped off, giving access to the garden. Marina was about to remark, but the boy was alreay through the wall and well on his way to the mansion. Marina turned to the other two. "Does he do that often? It''s a little annoying", she said.

    "No idea, really. Bruckner?"

    "Well. The kid has style at least. But, yeah, it''s annoying."

    "So? What are we waiting for", the detective snapped and moved through the wall.

    Marina gulped, pushing down the jittery feeling crawling up her belly, and followed. She could hear the desperate sigh of the wizard behind her, but she was sure he''d follow. He might be a scaredy-cat, but he would come through, certainly. She stepped onto drab grass and - well, the garden was empty except for the lawn. Something at the back of her mind told her this place was wrong,dead somehow, but the grass was tough and springy - even if it lacked color. Moving the twenty yards of open ground to the white walls of the three story building was one of the most nerve-racking things Marina had ever done, but they reached the window Aaron had told them about without anyone crying out.So, he''s doing his job. Maybe?

    Her breathing came flat and the grass around her seemed to twist and turn-

    A strong hand steadied her. "Breath deep and slow", Detective Linsner instructed gently.

    Marina nodded hastily, and acquiesced. Some ten seconds later - far too long for her tastes - she got her nerves back under control. Beside her the wizard was already fiddling with the window. He held long wooden pins with carvings edged into the flat ends in his hands and colored thin tips. There were a blue, a red, two green and a purple pins. The narrow tips tapped again and again at different points at the edge of the window, dancing in the wizard''s hand more fancily than she had seen Asian''s use their chopsticks.

    "The kid was right", he mumbled. "With all the background mana gone, picking the spell on this window apart is walk-in-the-park-easy."

    "Stop talking and hurry up, Bruckner. I''m getting nervous here. It''s too silent."

    "Yeah, well, too late to be callingtrap, right", the wizard said in fake joviality.

    "Shut up", the detective snapped.

    With a soft click the window gave and swung inward, making the wizard pump his fist and muttering a profane cheer.That guy''s mouth...

    Eyeing the window - barely high enough to press her chest through the window - Marina steeled herself and swung her feet forwards through the dark opening. The other two gave a yelp as she slid over the dry gras and swung into the dark corridor, her back arching gracefully like she''d learned in PE-

    Her forehead knocked against the top of the window and she slammed ass-first onto the concrete floor, but thank god her upper body smacked against her thighs and her head only knocked against her knees. It hurt like all kinds of "owch", but at least she didn''t knock herself out on the ground. When she got her senses back together, the detective helped her up - apparently she''d entered effortlessly - and together they watched the stalky limbs flail as Mr. Bruckner scrambled into the hallway.

    "Aaron would have done that more gracefully", she mumbled and looked around. Down the corridor, maybe five yards, was a heavy steel door and to the window''s right were a few steps leading to a door to the ground floor.

    The wizard ignored her jibe and instead he looked darkly down the hallway. "Ohhh", he cooed, sinister. "This is just evil. Detective, I know you want to do this by the book, but... we should kill these fuckers."

    "You what that sound is", the police woman asked.

    Sound? Marina concentrated her ears. It was there, obviously, she couldn''t understand how she hadn''t heard it before. Moaning and gasping and squealing and grunting. "Oh my god. What are they doing to my sister", she demanded, horrified.

    "I have a guess, but..." He trailed off. "Just remember what the kiddo told you. Keep your stomach tight and focus on what you want to do."

    Gritting her teeth, squeezing her fists, Marina steeled herself and tried to remember her sister the way Aaron had told her - she didn''t know why she thought it might help, but as she did warm courage flowed from her wrist up her arm saturating her body, calming her nerves. Marina did not understand, but she did not need to - knowing that the spirit in her bracelet helped her was a blessing beyond any certainty she might have now. "Thank you, Marisol", she whispered. There was no answer of course, but she could swear she felt just a little more warmth in her. With sure, measured, tromping steps she went for the single door at the end of the corridor, the animal noises growing louder. She lifted the heavy iron bar up and away, then used the heavy handle and pulled the door open. It was every ounce as heavy as it looked, so she had to put her entire way against the door to finally drag it open, but she managed. At once an overwhelming stench of shit and piss and ...sex overwhelmed her. She gagged, threatening to throw up, but she got a hold of her stomach in time.

    The voices were deafening now - human voices roaring in laughter, squealing in ecstasy...

    Marina fored herself through the door and looked.

    Gridded windows only gave the barest shine of light, but it was enough to see what''s going on. Human shapes throwing themselves at each other, slapping their hips against each other, giggling maniacally.

    She was about to flee, but warmth flushed her. "Lucia", she called, her voice almost failing. Then, with more force, "Lucia?!"

    None of the shapes reacted.

    "By the Light and all the angels in the Fortress", the wizard said behind her.

    "Bruckner, whatis this", the police woman asked, aghast.

    "He''s breeding minions, the mother fucker."

    That did it for Marina. Screaming her sister''s name again and again she threw herself into the fray, throwing writhing shapes away from each other, searching for Lucia''s face. She was jostled and pushed left and right, but she made it halfway across the room.

    Something grabbed her ankled and she dropped onto moist straw - it stank so horribly she didn''t want to know what the moisture was. A heavy shape dragged itself over her and it ripped at her jeans. A terrified scream tore from her throat and she tried to pry the hands away, but they were as if made from steel. Something hard pulsed against her-

    "NOOOOOO", she wailed and slammed her fists against the thing''s head. Nothing worked, it wouldn''t budge and her pants were slipping-

    A blue light exploded in front of her eyes and pushedthe shape away. She scrambled back up onto her feet and turned looked at her surroundings, expecting the next attack at any moment. Instead they had all shied away from her pushing themselves against the bare stone walls. Detective Linsner rushed to her side and shook her shoulder, shouting, "are you okay?"

    "Lucia! Lucia, where are you", Marina called instead, ignoring her. In desperation she plead, "Marisol! Marisol, please! Where is my sister?! Help her,save her!" She felt a wave of assent rushing through her, then a diffusive indigo glow permeated the room. The shapes became silent and stopped moving. A sense ofleft imprinted itself in her mind and as she turned - her sister''s empty gaze looked back at her.

    Marina ran and grabbed her sister''s shoulders. "Lucia! Lucia! We have to go!" She tried to pull, but her sister wouldn''t response. She just stared at the air in front of her, apathic to anything. "Please, Lucia,please! We need togo!" But she wouldn''t respond. Marina wailed and plead and sobbed, and finally her sister responded. She moaned and light returned to her eyes. Marina watched in horror as a manic glow appeared in her sisters face and her steely fingers grabbed at Marina''s shoulders, pushing her down.

    Only now did she notice the indigo glow around her flickering and the other shapes beginning to move again.

    Made giggles escaped from her sisters gaping grin, and Marina held back her tears. "Marisol,please!"

    The light whisked away and she could feel her bracelet breaking apart on the skin of her wrist.

    Screaming in despair the dim light coming through the windows vanished as she was being surrounded by the mad students, her insane sister on top of her.

    "Fuck", someone cursed. A hissing flame zipped above her scorching her sisters shoulder. Lucia wailed in pain animal instincts scaring her and the other shapes away from her. Marina was dragged upwards by rude hands, the detective dragging her away. At the entrance stood Mr. Bruckner, a twisted and crooked iron bar in his hands, barely as thick as a finger. Twirling it above his head, once, twice he then swung it at a charging madman and another flash of light raced through the air, splashing against the thing''s chest. Low heat brushed Marina''s face as the insane student screeched in pain throwing itself on the straw on the ground, trying to put the fire out in a panic.

    "No. No! Lucia, we have to get her", she shouted as she fought against the detective dragging her away.

    "We can''t! There''s nothing we can do, dammit", she said and kept pulling.

    "No! No! Lucia! LUCIAAA!"

    Suddenly everyone dropped to the ground. Marina pressed her hands against her ears as thousands upon thousands of voices seemed to sing directly into her brain, every single voice somehow distinct. She barely noticed everyone else writhing on the ground, clutching there hands to their heads. The endless choir slamming into her brain grew louder, drowning everything out, even her sight whitening. Finally the noise grew quiet, the voices overlapping, shifting until she could hear a single, crystal clear, girly voice say, "Don''t worry, Marina. The Mother will help."

    Her sight returned. She rose from the floor and looked at the room flooding with a misty, white light.

    I WILL MAKE THIS RIGHT, something said, booming through the room. The detective and the wizard yelped.

    "What now", the police woman shouted.

    "The Mother", the wizard shouted back. "It''s the goddamn Mother of the Mind!"

    And as suddenly as it had come, the light vanished again.

    BEST REGARDS TO AARON WILSON, the voice said once more.

    Looking around, the ground had cleared of the straw and only pristine, bare stone was left. The maddened students had stopped groaning and were looking around, disoriented.

    "Marina?"

    Lucia looked at her confused. Sane.

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 8</h4>

    Well, fuck. The actual Mother of the Mind, the goddess of all spirits. Here in this god forsaken cellar. This city was just too fucking messed up.

    "I wanna quit", Howard mumbled.

    "Quit being a sissy, Bruckner. We need to get them out."

    True, that. The girl had thrown herself at her sister, sobbing - understandably, but without much sense. There was still a fucking dragon around and Howard really wasn''t keen to meet it. "Okay, guys", he called. "Time for a road trip! Giddy up", he drawled, then turned around, nervous. They hadn''t heard any noise from inside. The kiddo had said he''d distract them, but distractions usually were loud, right? So why was it so goddamned silent?! Howard moved back into the dark corridor, checking for movement, but there was noone. He moved up the stairs - using the window with so many people would just take too long - and listened at the door.

    Nothing.

    He opened it silently - the students had gotten a move on after getting ticked off by Linsner - and a strong smell of iron hit him.

    Blood.

    The walls were splattered with it. On the ground were disfigured humanoids - horns growing from their heads, scales pushing in patches out of their skins, wicked claws instead of nails - blood pouring out of the joints of removed limbs. One''s entrails spilled all over the dark mahogany floor, the body had been opened from groin to throat.

    Howard cursed.

    Behind him the detective came up the stairs, the students in hot pursuit. "Wait", he snapped. "Don''t let them look!" She looked at him, frowning, then snuck a glance around the corner.

    "That was Wilson", she asked, voice hard.

    Howard nodded. He should have known. The way he had caught that knife the True Blood had thrown on a steel pipe... the kid was a mean sunnuvabitch with a sword.

    "I can''t let him get away with that, Bruckner", she pressed through her teeth. Behind her the kids were getting impatient.

    "They were dead anyway, Ann. Puppets moving for their master''s sake." They would have been humans once - turned into the mother fucker''s minions, just like those kids would have been, had the Mother of the Mind not interfered. Thank all the sixtyfive Saints for that. Linsner was about to argue, but Howard cut her off. "We need to get the kids out of here. When the fight starts for real-"

    A loud roar, accompanied with a violent crash interrupted him. The ceiling a little ways down the hall gave way and plaster and rubble and dust blew down the hallway. Howard turned kicked the backdoor open-

    It nearly cost him his balance, because the door had already been open.

    Howard didn''t care though, he just dragged the detective through the doorway out of the house, pressing himself against the inside corner of the wall, already expecting what began to happen.

    The students screamed in panic and rushed out of the staircase, into the hallway - and Howard pushed the first one out. The other''s followed, herd instinct doing its job for once and at the end of the train, Marina and her sister left the house. Marina looked at him, wide-eyed.

    "Get fucking lost", he snapped and turned back down the hallway.

    Aaron Wilson had just risen from the floor, dust in his hair, bright blood splattered all over him - Howard hoped it wasn''t his own. If they were to do take care of this goat-fucking shithead Aaron was essential - he was the only one capable of talking to Sid.

    Who wasn''t here. Happy times.

    Howard prepared a spell, but stopped. The kiddo was glaring at him, like,way glaring.

    It took him too long for his taste to understand. He couldn''t do anything. And Aaron was still up and standing. The thing they needed most right now was time.

    Okay, Howard. You have only one shot. Make it count, he thought. Obviously.

    What he''d seen down in the basement had made him so furious, he''d nearly done something stupid. His magic couldn''t harm a dragon, ofcourse it couldn''t. But he could manage one distraction. Howard fled the house into the garden. The kid must have known what was going on down there. No wonder he''d been so prickly.

    "So, what''s next, Bruckner?"

    He started. "You havegot to be fucking kidding me?! Why in thefuck are you here?"

    "Oh? You said Wilson only mutilated corpses - I canmaybe ignore that. But a big, bad dragon enslaving kids? Not if hell freezes over, Bruckner."

    "You- Why- But-Gaaahh!"

    Leave it to Ann Shit-For-Ears Linsner to piss in a dragon''s eye!

    "It''s a goddamndragon", he hissed.

    "Yes, I got it the first five times. So, apprehending is out of the question?"

    Howard blinked. Was she talking sense? Was sheactually talking sense? Her? Howard only managed a nod.

    "Okay, so, how do we kill it?"

    Yeah, same old, same old. "We ain''t fuckin'' killin'' a motherfuckin'' dragon, fer chris'' sake!"

    "Your drawl is slipping, Bruckner", she said smugly.

    "Not thefucking time", he wailed at her, just as a blast of flame tore down the building''s facade. Wood sprayed across the lawn and Howard - who had inexplicably thrown himself on top of Linsner - was peppered by splinters and boards. His heart hammered in his chest, but for a few minor bruises he was unharmed. Who would have guessed, Howard the Dipshit Bruckner actually had luck.

    He dragged the detective with him and darted through the triangular cut in the stone. Pressing his back against the (seemingly) stable bricks he forced his breath to calm down. Something struck him in the gut,hard. Spitting and desperate to regain his breath he released Linsner - who had been glaring indignantly at him from the crook of his arms. Yeah, gee, you''re welcome. Fuck, that hurt!

    Howard dared a peek into the yard.

    A man with long, inky-black hair stepped out of the rubble of his once-mansion, wearing an expensive order-tailored suit, all sleek black and crimson trimmings. The amulet in his pocket reacted, the one he recieved from the Circle of the Graceful Lake - that one was a Signer. They''d attacked a dragon who had signed the treaty. Yesterday it had been a True Blood who was in on the treaty. Seriously?

    "Linsner?"

    "Yeah?"

    "I wanna quit", he sobbed.

    "Grow a pair, Bruckner", she snarled. "What are we gonna do?"

    "Wait and see, Linsner", he said, short of breath. "We need to wait for that Sid-fellow. If it gets critical, distract the dragon to buy some time. That''s really all we can do."

    "That''s not much", she observed.

    "Yeah, well... big bad dragons are usually big and bad, you know?"

    She grinned. Why was she grinning?! "How you still spout jokes even if you''re about to piss your pants is adorable", she said, smirking wickedly.

    "Time and place, god-fucking-damn it!"

    A crackle in the air and flickering pale light drew his attention back to the lawn.

    Aaron fucking Wilson was dodging a whip made from lightning. How any one human could do that was really beyond Howard, but he was on their side, so... yay?

    The kid stepped lightly onto the grass, crouched low, pushed off-

    Howard lost sight of him, but heard the dragon curse. Aaron had closed in, the slender, gleaming blade stabbing at the handsome man''s throat. The blade connected, but to noone''s surprise - well, maybe Linsner was - it didn''t break the skin. Aaron gave a roar, slammed his other palm at the bottom of the handle and the carpet cutter scraped off the dragon''s neck - actually tearing the highest layer of skin. Twisting about himself Aaron brought the blade around, back up and with a strike that would have made Howard piss his pants he slammed the thin steel at the exact same spot.

    Howard barely saw it, but at the moment of impact the kid twisted his wrist, turning the blade and thereby hooking it under the edge of skin he''d torn earlier. The blade caught, about to rush into the dragon''s meat-

    A steely hand closed around the blade and snapped it off.

    Aaron winced, snapped his wrist and the rest of the blade slid from the carpet cutter''s handle. Another snap and once more three feet of steel sprang from the little orange piece of plastic - the kiddo charged again the same instant.

    He brought the tip up low, slipping through the man''s arms he twisted in a kung fu-esque defence. Again he hit the same spot - but this time the angle seemed off, the blade just slid off uselessly. Aaron cursed, and the dragon grinned. The man opened his palms and Aaron was devoured by a huge ball of flame.

    Howard snapped up his wand of twisted iron, but he already knew it was useless.

    Beside him, Linsner aimed her gun, pulled the trigger - but no shot came.

    Huh?

    Howard looked back, just in time to hear the dragon curse in pain.

    A shape dashed out of the black billowing smoke - Aaron Wilson, completely unmarked by the fire. He spat in frustration at the floor and looked at the blade - it had snapped again, apparently. The smoke cleared and the dragon reappeared, blood flowing out of a tiny scratch on his left eyebrow.

    "What''s going on, Bruckner?"

    Again, Howard was slow on the uptake. "Oh! I get it. He has a fire spirit''s protection."

    "What doesthat mean?"

    "Er, well, they say fire doesn''t harm them. Something like that."

    "You are one useless consultant", she mumbled.

    "Life talker''s are just way too rare for accounts to be reliable", he complained.

    Back on the lawn, Aaron had discarded the broken blade again, snapping his wrist for another - but none came. He looked pained for a moment, then pocketed the handle.

    "What now, human", the dragon asked in a deep voice.

    "Close your eyes", the kid roared.

    That was tactically stupid. Why warn the dragon about a blinding maneuver? A feint was way too naive, too. Hmm... Oh, right. The Third Eye. Howard snapped it shut, then watched as the kid threw a magnificent right straight at the dragon''s cheek. It connected, solidly, doing no damage, obviously. The dragon frowned, smelling a trap.

    Suddenly Howard felt it. Even without his Third Eye it hammered at his senses, threatening to overwhelm him-

    The dragon did like-wise shocked he looked at the ground, then back at Aaron Wilson-

    His fist crashed into the left half of his face, the bone giving way, blood spurting through torn skin and flesh.

    He howled in pain, first a human''s baritone, then the noisy roar of a dragon in rage. Black wings tore out of his suit, chest broadening, shiny black scales eclipsing his skin, his face lengthening to a snout. In a matter of seconds there stood a black dragon, four limbs, massive body and a long neck arching between beautiful wings, the size of a 40-ton truck.

    Its golden eyes - both unbroken, how unfair wasthat - searched for Aaron, glaring at-

    Another solid punch spot-on into the dragon''s left eye!

    Fluids, and shortly after blood spurted and the dragon howled an ear-deafening cry.

    As did Aaron. He rolled on the ground clutching his right arm. It was mangled and twisted and the fingers just bent into any directions, none of them healthy.

    "What happened", Linsner asked.

    "The kid busted his arm, is what happened", he said. "He called the leyline - don''t get me started on how fucked upthat is - from deep underground and used it to power himself up. That he didn''t pop like a balloon filled with raw meatloaf and pigblood just shows he has some training in that. It was too much, though, so his arm couldn''t take the strain of punching a motherfucking dragon twice."Seriously, whodoes that?!

    The kiddo rose from the ground once more, set off for a run-

    The ground rose below him and a pillar of stone took him neatly in the gut. Aaron puked a little - mostly gastric juices, nothing solid, owch - then rolled over to the side. A twist of his hips swung him away from another pillar, which he - after springing back up onto his feet - used as a stepping stone. He jumped off, brought his broken fist up-

    And smashed another rising stone pillar. It cracked like a pretzel stick and the counter force propelled Aaron to the dragon''s snout-

    Which clamped shut around his torso.

    A sickening scream sounded out, along with a disgusting crunch and the huge dragon slammed the bloody bundle of bones to the ground. Aaron bounced off once, twice then kept rolling for a few more yards before he finally came to a stop. He seemed to be still alive, somehow, because he was coughing up blood in painful-looking rasps.

    "Oh my god", Linsner whispered hotly.

    The dragon walked toward Aaron, his right eye focusing on him. Luckily it was blind on Howard''s side. Bless the kid for his tactics, Howard thought.

    "I need you to shoot, just before it goes for the kill", he whispered to Linsner, then began running. He raced for all that he had left, which, thanks to the kiddo, was still quite a lot. He kept tight to the wall, turned and slipped through the wide bars of the front gate. Back inside the walled of plot of land, Howard could already hear the detective''s gun going off, useless against a dragon, of course.

    He could barely hear the dragon mock, "The wizard ran, huh?"

    Howard forced open the car sat infront of the entrance, hijacked the motor, then jumped away. A huge paw, the size of a boulder smashed it. Glas spraying everywhere. Dragon''s had damn good ears. Flanking them just didn''t work - because they weren''t stupid. Howard had had no illusions, that they''d been unnoticed. But dragon''s liked to think everyone else stupid. And so Howard snapped a spark at the car''s bursting tank - the gas caught fire instantly.

    The effect wasn''t quite what he''d hoped for - no explosion, because the expanding volume was no longer contained - a swiftly puffing flame triple the size of the car, which would have neatly grilled a human, but barely itched a dragon.

    "Buying time, I see", the dragon said in its gravelly, rocks-rolling-over-rocks voice.

    Howard winced, but it didn''t matter if the dragon found out now, anyways. He''d squeezed out as much seconds as he could.

    Though it was enough, apparently, because the dragon''s head snapped to the side-

    Aaron''s fist deeply slipping into its remaining eye.

    "You''re way late, Sid", he said. Then, in an irritably bratty voice, he added, "Oh, I''msorry for not knowing how to get here from the other side of the city. GoingNamarach, though? That''s reckless Aaron." He continued in his usual measured tone, "He pissed me off, is all." Then, "Hehe, angry Aaron is fun."

    There he stood unimpaired by shredded flesh and torn open belly, like someone else might walk off a bruise. Blood streamed down his legs and pooled on the ground, and he didn''t give a care, only exchanging pleasantries with his pet-spirit, that apparently possessed him.

    "I''ve got only one left, Aaron. Yesterday took its toll... Got it. I''ll end this now... Yeah, let''s tear out its heart... That''s pretty gruesome. Sounds good, though... Yeah, angry Aaron is-"

    The kid slumped forward, like his strings had been cut, into a heap of blood and misery.

    "An Eldritch Beast, I see. I''ve heard there was one in the city. Good that I took precautions."

    The kid useless and broken, Sid the Almighty out of the equation, Linsner''s gun useless and he himself a useless wizard.

    Howard gave up.

    <hr>

    <h4 style="text-align: justify">Part 9</h4>

    Getting chewed on by a dragon hurts.

    It wasn''t a lecture Aaron had needed, common sense told him that much. He''d known gowing against a dragon was gowing to be bad, but that it had been Namarach was just tough luck. Taking out his minions had been swift, efficient work - his sword instructor, Hachiman, had taught him well. As he rushed into the office on the top floor, blade flourishing he only realized who his opponent was, when Novis - one of the great fire spirits themselves - had warned him. Allowing himself a short curse Aaron rushed on.

    Ten minutes later he lay on the ground, body broken, consciousness almost gone from bloodloss and Sid was sobbing apologies somewhere off to his right, ethereal strings coiled tightly around him. The detective had been sensible and ran at his instruction, but he could feel her bundle of nervous righteousness nearby. Behind him Mr. Bruckner was sinking into despair, thick tar opening a whole into the ground swallowing anything else. The dragon in front of him was a blank space, like this entire plot of land was, like the forest had been. Namarach had killed all the spirits with his spell to turn the students into his mindless slaves - and Aaron would have his head for that.

    Grabbing at the retreating ley line deep below him he filled his body once again with power - a raging torrent, threatening to tear him apart, but concentration hardened by years of being distracted by a hundred voices made it possible to focus it - and he send a quick plead to Extos, great spirit of life. The old badger wasn''t capable of fixing his body back up - he was a spirit of nature, not humans - but he could knit his broken bones and torn muscles temporarily.

    Lifting himself up he slammed his right leg into the dragon''s chest. The armor of interlocking onyx scales gave, the dragon''s chest bones snapping apart as did his knee joint. Pain lanced through him, but his teacher had taught him to not let it impede his actions. Dragging his leg out of the wound, the bones twisted and ground against each other, an utterly crippling wound - when Cressinda found out about the condition he''d brought his body in, all hell would break lose - and, balancing himself on his remaining, fucked up leg, Aaron reached with his remaining good arm for the gaping wound.

    Tearing his heart out seemed like a good idea to Aaron.

    His fingers grazed the throbbing flesh and he-

    Something slammed into him, somewhere on his torso''s right side, his chest giving caving, the lung and diaphragm only keeping together because of Extos'' assistance. Breathing was painfull, but so was slamming into the side of the building. The dragon withdrew his fist, but before Aaron could react, his tail slammed into him-

    The wall gave.

    Aaron''s backbone shattered somewhere below his chestcage, his legs turning limp.

    "I can''t fix nerves, Aaron", Extos whispered, sorrowful.

    He tried to response, but he could only gasp wetly. Aaron dragged himself on both arms, his legs uselessly dragging over the ground.

    A girl looked at down at him. In her lap she held a little bonsai tree and she tilted her head curiously, soft brown hair swaying.

    Extos had somehow stitched his chest into a halfway stable form, so Aaron managed to whisper, "Run."

    "I can''t. You can see me?"

    Aaron nodded weakly. "You have to run", he said exhausted his head resting against the wooden floor. He was running out of options. Killing a dragon without his legs to stand on was going to be nigh-impossible.

    His head racing, he only noticed the girl kneeling before him, when she repeated, "I can''t run."

    "I''m sorry", he rasped. "I''ll be right back." He pushed his upper body back up. The dragon thought he was incapitated, so he was aiming for the wizard now. Aaron needed to act now.

    "You''re dead", she said.

    He chortled. It hurt. "Not yet. Someone''s helping me out. Thanks for that, by the way, Extos."

    "You''re welcome, Aaron. Even so, you are dead. I cannot do anything else and Novis is not allowed to help you. Mother won''t come to safe you, either. You are going to die here, Aaron."

    "I''m good. I''ve got one more left. Cressinda will give me hell, but she''ll patch me back up. Just gotta make sure this one counts", Aaron rasped. He gripped the edge of the broken wall flipped himself out of the house with arms powered by the ley lines and hurtled at the dragon. It was still mocking the frozen-by-fear wizard, because dragon''s are inherently, stupidly arrogant.

    They had good ears, though.

    Which meant the dragon easily dodged the desperate fist he threw at its cranium. Another easy swing of his massive head slammed Aaron right back into the very same room.

    "Aaron. Stop. It pains me to look", Extos said.

    "I''m good", Aaron whispered. "I''ve got... one more."

    He repeated.

    Flinging himself outside the room-

    Everything went black.

    He came back to himself by a dragon''s crown hammering into his body, flinging him back into that one room.Must have lost consciousness for a second there, Aaron thougt. Damn bloodloss.

    "One... more."

    The girl giggled. "Okay. You can take me out", she said. She held the bonsai to him and motioned him to grab it. Aaron didn''t understand, but riddled by pain and bloodloss and running-out-of-options he couldn''t bring himself to care and touched the tree.

    Instantly little shoots sprouted twining around his fingers, his hand and his wrist. Then they slippedinto the wounds in his arms coiling around ulna and radius scrambling in his meat, painfully. Aaron would have screamed, had he had that kind of energy left. Moments later the tree had disappeared and the pot and contained earth fell to the ground.

    "Nice to meet you, Master", the girl said, smiling, then vanished.

    It took Aaron a moment to notice that his body was healthy again. Still smeared in blood, vomit and other fluids his entrails had leaked, but there was neither scratch nor bruise nor pain in his body. Remembering that he still had a dragon to slay - Aaronwas a little woozy, time to end this - he rushed to the gaping whole in the wall-

    The dragon was dead, his head busted open like a melon dropped from two yards above the ground.

    He looked to the wizard, impressed. "Nice going, Mr. Bruckner", he called.

    The man looked at him, stunned.

    Aaron was truly surprised, the wizard had managed to kill Namarach, but... all''s well that ends well.

    Better get back to work, then.