ã€ŠHollow Moonã€‹


 Chapter 1.1: Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    ¡°I have a reservation,¡± Nyssa said, grinning at the gnome guarding the door. He only glared at her, his dirt encrusted face wrinkling unattractively.

    ¡°Name and species?¡± His voice was gravelly and rough, like his appearance. Gnomes tended to be one of the uglier species of the People. They were universally thick-featured with drooping noses, wrinkled, dirty skin and huge, pointed ears that flopped and quivered as they waddle about.

    ¡°Akiba Masih. Jinn,¡± she said, plucking the name out of his head. Gnomes were simple creatures. Their uncomplicated thoughts were easy to skim information from.

    Nyssa cocked her head to one side, allowing her pupils to elongate until they were just a thin slit. Still grinning, her forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air. It was only a small bit of transformation, but it seemed to satisfy the guard. Standing at less than half her height, the gnome seemed to be more preoccupied with leering at her breasts than doing his job.

    She held her breath as the gnome consulted his list, with a perfunctory glance. After a few long seconds of uncomfortable ogling, he gave her a sharp nod. The air around the gnome felt heavy, like the oppressive dankness of a cave. Nyssa knew that the air wasn¡¯t actually as stagnant and cool as it felt. It was just her extra senses feeding her bits of information.

    ¡°You don''t see many Jinn around these parts,¡± the gnome remarked, with a sleazy jeer. Most Jinn liked to stay home, in the Middle East. In places like London, there were too many People obsessed with the idea of capturing their own genie in a bottle. Nyssa was lucky that a Jinn happened to make a reservation, not that Akiba Masih was going to get to use it.

    The guard simply stepped aside and let her pass. She was greeted just inside the door by another gnome, this one even uglier than the first. He looked like he had just crawled out a mine. His leathery skin was stained black where dirt had settled into the wrinkles for so long that the folds of skin had turned crusty.

    ¡°This way,¡± he said and waddled off. She trailed down the long hallway after him, eyeing the security cameras. Like the first guard, the gnome wasn¡¯t suspicious of her at all. It was easy for the guard to assume she was Jinn, with her little trick - the extent of her transformation abilities, really - along with her olive skin and masses of dark hair. What he didn''t need to know was that she was a still bit less than full blooded Jinn. Actually, she was half human, with a few other species thrown in for spice.

    The women in her family were known for their freedom of spirit.

    Right now, that was working in her favour. Mixed bloods were uncommon so no one usually suspected she was anything less than what she claimed to be.

    There was a heavily armoured booth at the end of the hallway. The gnome pulled out a ring of keys, the kind used in old dungeons, and unlocked the door. To Nyssa, the keys and door glowed slightly with an inner light. They had been warded. Probably against being stolen or broken. The gnome popped up on the other side of the bench and placed three stacks of poker chips in front of her.

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    ¡°Table three,¡± he said in his hoarse voice, pushing the chips towards her. She nodded her thanks and scooped up the chips.

    I can''t believe that worked. Nyssa let out a long breath. Thank you, Akiba Masih.

    Sensations washed over her as she entered the room. Though it was strangely quiet, the room vibrated with life and the intensity that could only come from a room full of the People. The spirit of those from the Real World sung with more vibrancy than regular humans. A room full of Them was overwhelming, like going out into the sunlight after being in a dim room. It took her a second to adjust.

    Tables were grouped around the edges of the room. She walked to the middle of the room, turning slowly and taking everything in. A young, human-looking girl drew the attention of some of the patrons. Most though, were consumed with the cards in front of them.

    She spotted a spare chair on a table to her left, the number three blinked softly in neon above it. She took her place next to a squashed looking creature that she didn¡¯t recognise. She did her best to look like she belonged. She watched the game for a few rounds, getting a feel for the players. The creature to her left would not keep still, shifting in his chair constantly. She reached out, studying the odd little creature. Sandpaper scratches rubbed against inside of her skull, sending a shiver down her spine. She recognised the sensation from her childhood when her home had a bogie infestation. Bogies were mischief makers, setting up shop in pokey cupboards and corners of attics. They were more irritating than any sort of danger. Nyssa had never seen one out in the open.

    Sitting opposite to her was a little black dwarf with eyes that glowed like the end of cigarettes. The air around it tasted like burned toast.

    It was a Kobold.

    Nyssa cursed to herself. This was not what she came here for. She played a few hands at that table, cursing at the delay. It would too suspicious if she got up without betting even once. She kept half an eye on the table, scanning the rest of the room for the Person she had come here to see.

    She sensed him before she saw him. Little sparks of light tingled against her spine when she brushed her awareness along the table behind her.

    There was a fairy there.

    She prodded at the place where the fairy sat again. The taste of too sweet candied fruit burst on her tongue, coating it with the sickly sweet taste of fairy. Nyssa froze. There was only one fairy that frequented these parts. She didn¡¯t know his name, no one did, but she was sure this is who she was looking for.

 Chapter 1.2 Nyssa

    She played a few more hands, winning a few, and then made a move towards the fae¡¯s table. She slid into the empty seat opposite the fairy.

    ¡°What are you doing here, little girl?¡± the fairy said, his beautiful face crinkling with amusement. Nyssa matched his smile with one of her own. She needed to play her cards carefully. Fairies are dangerous and powerful. She had chosen this particular Fae because he was a known Seelie and often cut deals with other People. Fairies of the Seelie court were dangerous if you crossed them, but they were far less likely to cheat or slice you open just to find out what colour you are on the inside.

    There is a reason most People steer clear of the Unseelie court.

    ¡°I need something you can give me,¡± she said, fluttering her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m willing to trade for it.¡± She reached into the front pocket of her jeans, pulling a round stone, about the size of her fingernail, from it. She placed it on the green felt table in front of her. The stone glittered green and yellow in the soft candlelight. The fae¡¯s eyes sparked with greed when he realised what Nyssa was offering him and he snatched up the small stone, holding it up to the light to inspect it.

    ¡°Draconite,¡± he said, awe leaking into his voice. ¡°Where did you get this?¡±

    ¡°I plucked it from the head of a dragon myself,¡± Nyssa said proudly. The fairy pulled his eyes away from the stone just long enough to shoot Nyssa a disbelieving look.

    ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Well, no,¡± she admitted, her grin not fading. ¡°It actually cost me my X-box, a thousand pounds and an entire week a washing up duty.¡± Her face scrunched up in horror at the memory. Her poor hands had yet to recover from the abuse the soapy water had heaped upon them. ¡°But it is genuine. May I have it back?¡±

    Nyssa rose an eyebrow and the fairy reluctantly placed the draconite before her. Nyssa didn¡¯t even glance at the stone.

    ¡°Now, now. I thought we were friends.¡± Nyssa held out her hand, palm up. ¡°Friends don''t try and cheat friends.¡± Nyssa¡¯s voice turned dark, her smile disappearing. Her stone wiggled it¡¯s way out from the fairy¡¯s shirt pocket and landed with a soft thunk in her palm. The glamor over the fake stone sitting on the table faded to reveal a plain poker chip.

    ¡°You won¡¯t be able to steal it from me,¡± she said, good mood restored. ¡°You will need to trade for it.¡±

    ¡°And what do you want?¡± He crooked an eyebrow. She waved to one of the bar staff, a little imp.

    ¡°Coke please,¡± she said, trying to act nonchalant. Nyssa turned to the fairy. ¡°A stone for a stone. I need healing.¡±

    ¡°Ahh,¡± the fairy nodded in understanding. ¡°You need a charm stone. A charm stone made by me is worth more than just a draconite.¡±

    ¡°Not by much,¡± Nyssa insisted. She didn¡¯t smile. She didn''t even blink. Immediately the Seelie fae shook his head.

    ¡°I''m not interested. You will need to offer more.¡± Nyssa smiled, tilting her head.

    ¡°If you''re not interested in a trade, how about we play for it?¡± His golden eyes, much bigger than a human¡¯s, glittered at the challenge she offered. ¡°Unless you are afraid of losing.¡± Her tone turned challenging. The fairy smiled, his youthful face crinkling handsomely. All fae were extremely beautiful. Nyssa wasn¡¯t sure if that was a racial characteristic or because of their ability to glamor themselves.

    ¡°You challenge me?¡± he asked incredulously. ¡°You look barely more than one hundred! I have centuries of experience on you, child.¡±

    ¡°Actually, I turn twenty next week.¡± Nyssa only grinned wider, not at all perturbed by the fae¡¯s confidence. The fairy laughed, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

    He was delighted by the gall of this young nobody. He was hundreds of years old and infinitely more powerful than this little baby Jinn, yet here she sat, teasing him and challenging him.

    ¡°You have a deal, young friend,¡± the fae said. He had no problem with taking this child¡¯s stone if she was determined to just give it to him.

    He gestured to the table with a wide sweep of his hand. ¡°We play for it. Winner takes all.¡± The dealer began preparing the deck.

    ¡°There is something I should tell you before we commit to this bet.¡± Nyssa placed her elbows on the table, propping her chin up on her palms and smiling cheekily. ¡°I can see the future.¡±

    The fairy threw his head back and laughed uproariously, drawing the attention of the other patrons again. Nyssa¡¯s smile just widened.

    ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± she insisted with a wink. An imp placed a tall glass of coke next her her elbow, ice tinkling delicately.

    ¡°I supposed you can also read my mind?¡± the fairy gaffed, thrilled by the joke.

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    ¡°Something like that,¡± Nyssa smiled at her own joke.

    ¡°I think I will take my chances against you, girl.¡±  The fae man gestured for the dealer to begin. ¡°Five hands. Whoever finishes with the most chips gets the prize.¡±

    Nyssa didn¡¯t touch her cards. She had a terrible poker face. Instead, she trailed her finger along the edge of her glass and rubbed the condensation between her fingers. The fae¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change as he glanced at his cards but Nyssa could smell the confidence leaking off him.

    He had a good hand.

    But how good was it? She took a sip of her drink, buying a little time. The caffeine bubbled behind her eyes, sending her gift into overdrive. The fae discarded only one of his cards, collecting one in return. His anticipation washed over her, as well as his arrogant confident.

    ¡°Arent you going to look at your cards, girl?¡± He leaned in close. Nyssa got another overpowering waft of candied fruit.

    ¡°I¡¯d much rather look at yours,¡± she said with a soft smile and slow blink. She trailed a single finger over the fairy¡¯s sharply angled cheekbone. Just a small brush of skin but it allowed her to slip past his defences and peek into his consciousness.

    Queen, queen, two, two, eight.

    He had two pairs. It was a good hand. She flipped up the edge of her cards. Two kings, a seven, a three and a five. Her hand beat hers. She could bluff it out or she could take a chance and discard some of her cards.

    Nyssa didn¡¯t like leaving things to chance.

    Her finger traced through the ring of condensation her glass left on the bench, leaving a line of wetness along the wood. Her eyes slipped closed as her fingers traced a damp pattern on the table.

    8, 3.

    The numbers dried up in a few seconds but Nyssa had what she needed. She kept her kings and her three but discarded the rest, adding a few more chips to the pot. The dealer dealt her two replacements. An eight and a three. Nyssa and the fairy both had two pairs, but Nyssa¡¯s kings beat the fae¡¯s queens.

    Nyssa¡¯s smile was smug when they revealed their cards. There was a collective intake of breath from the growing group of spectators. The fairy¡¯s expression remained impassive except for a slight narrowing of his eyes. From then on, the fairy played with more caution, not that it did him much good. He lost two more hands. When his hand was unbeatable, Nyssa made sure to keep her bets small. She didn¡¯t bother trying to call his bluff.

    In the end, the ancient wisdom of the fae was no match for Nyssa¡¯s gift.

    ¡°Pay up, old man.¡± Nyssa gave him a tight smile. The longer she stayed, the more chance she would get caught. As soon as the thought occurred to her, things started to go wrong. Gnomes slipped away from their posts along the outer wall and headed towards the entrance. The fairy and the other guest didn¡¯t notice but Nyssa eyed the door with growing apprehension.

    The fairy gestured to a guard who disappeared into another room briefly.

    ¡°You are utterly delightful, little girl,¡± the fae¡¯s laugh was low and throaty and distinctly threatening. As he talked, the gnome returned and placed a small stone in his master¡¯s palm. ¡°Not many People have your audacity, it is refreshing.¡± He leaned forward, his eyes turning from their usual amber to an angry red. ¡°Cross me again, girl, and I will gut you and hang your entrails-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d love to stay and chat but I have places to be,¡± Nyssa cut him off. With a quick swipe, she scooped the charm stone out of the fairy¡¯s outstretched hand. ¡°Keep the change.¡± She left the chips where they were and fluttering her fingers in farewell, she started towards the exit. She appeared to show no interest in the growing commotion by the door.

    ¡°Stop that girl!¡± a gnome yelled. She didn¡¯t stop to see who he was pointing at. Immediately she started running, ducking under a waiter¡¯s tray and skirting around a group of imps who were staring at her, confused. A guard blocked the exit, his arms spread wide as if to stop her running around him. She didn¡¯t slow down, choosing instead to launch herself over the tiny gnome. By some miracle, she managed to keep her feet on the landing. She burst through the exit door and almost ran into a tall, olive-skinned stranger. For a second, Nyssa and the confused man just stared at each other.

    ¡°Akiba?¡± Nyssa asked. This was the man Nyssa had been impersonating. He only blinked as if he couldn¡¯t believe she knew his name. ¡°You''re up by ¡ê4,000.¡± She offered him a sheepish grin and a shrug. A shout from behind her spurred into movement. She ducked under the arm Akiba threw out to stop her and ran full speed towards the cool air, the charm stone clutched in her sweaty fist.

    The guards tried to give chase, they really did. But Nyssa had planned her escape well. By the time they had rounded the corner it was if she had disappeared into thin air. Only her mocking laugh remained.

 Chapter 2.1 Del

    Del:

    ¡°You wanted to see me, Sir?¡± Del asked as he entered Riordan¡¯s office. Riordan was sitting behind his monstrously huge desk, every inch of it covered with neat piles of paper. Del did not envy the huge amounts of paperwork that came with being the leader of the largest Caul compound in the United Kingdom.

    ¡°Yes,¡± the older man answered, not looking up from his paperwork. ¡°I have an assignment for you.¡± Del straightened, his already formal posture stiffening. Del was one of the youngest graduates currently on active duty in the Caul¡¯s London compound. Usually, graduates would spend their first few years backing up older, more experienced Caul on their assignments. For Del to be assigned his own mission was unusual.

    ¡°Thank you, Sir.¡±

    Riordan was an older man, pushing fifty with salt and pepper hair and a neatly cropped goatee. He had been transferred to London almost twenty years ago and promoted to compound director almost immediately after that. Despite the long years in Britain, he still retained the slight burr of a Northern Irish accent.

    ¡°There''s been reports of a wild talent operating out of Liverpool.¡±

    That was not what Del was expecting. A wild talent meant that one of their own had been misplaced. The Caul was more than just a community, it was an extended family, an entire race living, training and working under the same roof. It wasn¡¯t often that a young Caul gets separated from the main community. It was dangerous when it did occur and most often the wild talent was tracked down and adopted by one of the compounds to be properly trained.

    ¡°I know it is unusual putting you in charge of your own operation so soon after you¡¯ve completed your training,¡± Riordan continued. ¡°I thought you would be particularly committed to bringing this young one to be properly trained, given your,¡± he hesitated, trying to find a delicate way of phrasing it, ¡°situation.¡±

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    Del managed not to flinch at the implication. Riordan either didn¡¯t notice or chose to ignore Del¡¯s discomfort, breezing right along with the briefing.

    ¡°All the information regarding this case is here,¡± Riordan handed Del a thin file. ¡°All that is left is the actual extraction. You will report to Vaughn at each stage of the mission but it will be up to you to determine what resources will be necessary. Good luck, my boy.¡±

    Del touched his forehead in an informal salute, scooped up the file and left Riordan''s office. There wasn¡¯t much information about the wild talent, only that he or she was using their psychic abilities liberally, with little discretion. A imp well known as being a thief had been tracked down and captured after stealing from a herd of pixies in Cornwall. The Imp claimed to have had his memories of the actual capture stolen from him. A goblin in Manchester reported an unknown Person using his locked offices as a stopover. He¡¯d witnessed someone popping in and out of thin air. After investigation of the office, the Caul discovered a strong layline by the watercooler.

    Page after page of unsolved reports from all over England. There was even some reports from as far north as Scotland.

    Most of the events were one off, but there was some suggestion the unknown wild talent frequented a small Real World occult shop in the heart of Liverpool. Del snapped the file shut.

    That is where he would start.

 Chapter 2.2 Morea

    Morea:

    I feel strange. My poor tree has not been the same since the winds came and shook me to my core.

    My roots run deep, my bole is strong.

    But the winds came and blew and blew, and whipped up the dirt with ruthless vengeance.

    My poor tree.

    Twisted limbs and creaking boughs. The scarred edges of my wounds throb, weeping sticky sap.

    The winds blow again, this time only a gentle breeze, murmuring through the pines. I shiver. Even this small breath of air rasps against the raw, throbbing wounds on my poor tree.

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    Just before, my branches were lush with ripe fruits and my bole was strong. Now I am fading.

    But my Nyssa said she would save me. She has gone for help. She will make me strong, she will steady my pained shivering.

    My poor tree.

    ¡°Morea?¡±

    My Nyssa was here.

    She will make me strong again.

    ¡°Morea, I¡¯m here.¡±

    <hr />

    My usual updates are mondays and fridays but I decided to add this as an extra because it is so short. Enjoy! The next update will be a long one. It will be up in two days =)

 Chapter 2.3 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    ¡°Morea,¡± Nyssa called. She ran frantically to the riverbank where her friend lived. ¡°I¡¯m here.¡±

    Morea¡¯s poor Mulberry tree drooped over the water¡¯s edge. A large, ugly crack ran through one of the larger limbs. The damage was done in a storm the day before. Sunlight glittered through the treetops as if to play an ugly joke. The weather here would maim one day and the next, the sky is blue and the breeze pleasantly warm.

    ¡°Morea?¡± Normally Morea would rush to meet Nyssa when she visited. The little dryad would dance around her, humming and singing. Today she lay at the base of her tree, cradled by its roots. Her normally vibrant skin, usually tinged with a healthy green, was pale. Her bright eyes were dim. Her red-gold hair stuck limply to her sweaty skin, the flowers woven into it withered and ragged.

    ¡°Morea,¡± Nyssa moan, falling to her knees beside the sick little dryad. The damage the storm had ravaged on the mulberry tree had condemned Morea to a drawn out, painful death. As the tree died, so did its dryad.

    Unless Nyssa did something about it.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Morea,¡± Nyssa said, rifling around in her backpack. ¡°I got something that will help you.¡± She pulled out a wooden bowl and a rounded bit of white quartz, about the size of her palm. The opaque stone wasn¡¯t particularly pretty, but it was very special.

    It was a charm stone.

    Nyssa dipped the bowl into the river, scooping up some water. The she placed the stone inside it. Nyssa muttered a charm for good health and healing under her breath and held the water up to Morea¡¯s colourless lips. Nyssa had seen the dryad''s lips pale yellow with the new growth of mulberries, then flushed with pink and red as the fruit ripened. Then finally, a deep purple, stark against her light green skin. Never had she seen Morea¡¯s lips this pale, ashy grey.

    Nyssa¡¯s muttering grew more frantic. She poured the cool liquid into Morea¡¯s mouth and then scooped up another bowl of water and repeated the process. The next bowlful was poured onto the tree roots, and the next and the next. She also poured a few drops onto the cracks in the bark.

    Satisfied she did all she could do, Nyssa sat back and watched, waiting for signs of improvement. The fae had assured her that healing would start almost immediately and that everything save the severest of injuries could be cured using his charm stone.

    Morea slept, cradled by the rough trunk of her tree. Slowly, colour began to bloom over her skin. Chlorophyll green tinged her cheeks and her hair no longer hung lifelessly. Her lips were flushed with a freshly bitten pink and dewdrops clung to her eyelashes. Even the flowers tangled through her hair perked up, reaching for the sun filtering through the leaves.

    ¡°You are going to be late for work, my Nyssa,¡± Morea whispered, her voice rasping from lack of use. Her eyes fluttered open, now as vibrantly green as her leaves. Nyssa laughed, relieved. She threw her arms around Morea¡¯s neck, crying and laughing into her hair.

    They stayed like this for a while, tangled in each other¡¯s arms. Morea was Nyssa¡¯s oldest friend after all. She¡¯d planted Morea¡¯s mulberry tree when she was only twelve. They had grown up together. Nyssa was not going to leave until she saw that the dryad was completely recovered.

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    ¡°You should have seen it, Morea,¡± Nyssa said, nestling down beside the dryad, a wicked grin on her face. ¡°That fairy didn¡¯t know what hit him.¡±

    ¡°The Fae are a dangerous Peoples, my Nyssa,¡± Morea said firmly, her voice trilling beautifully despite her sober tone. ¡°You should not goad them so.¡±

    ¡°You do not need to worry,¡± Nyssa pulled a face. ¡°I took precautions. They didn¡¯t even know my name.¡±

    ¡°They know what you can do and what you look like,¡± Morea pointed out. ¡°One day, People are going to come looking for you.¡±

    ¡°Well today is not that day, worry wart.¡±

    The sun was close to setting when Morea finally convinced Nyssa to go home. She waved to the tree, which had started to regain its foliage already, and grabbed her bike. Morea was right, Nyssa was going to be late for work. It was lucky that she knew a shortcut.

    She pushed her bike to the top of the grassy hill and pointed it towards the river. There was a slight shimmer right at the bank of the river where her usual shortcut was. If you looked closely, you could see where the light changed between the sunny riverside, and the other places the shortcut lead to.

    Nyssa kicked off, pedaling madly towards the water. She needed a lot of momentum to make it through the boggy riverbank to where the light bent around her shortcut. Her bike shook wildly, bouncing over the dips and rises in the grass and building up speed. She stopped pedaling, allowing gravity to do its work, and crouched low over the handlebar. She was vaguely aware of Morea calling a farewell before she entered the void between places. There was a whoosh as the sound disappeared, sucked out of the very air. For a moment, there was emptiness, then, a rush of sound and blinding light. Passing briefly through a deserted alleyway, she was quickly thrust out into a busy street, narrowly missing a pedestrian.

    ¡°I¡¯m walking here!¡± he yelled, shaking a fist at Nyssa who was already disappearing down 8th Avenue. She almost plunged headfirst into a parked taxi because she was laughing so hard. She sped down the busy road, the Empire State Building disappearing quickly behind her. Her nimble bike could navigate the traffic effortlessly, weaving in and out of the slow-moving cars. She could make this trip in her sleep, she¡¯d done it so often. The quickest way home to Liverpool was a quick bike trip through New York City to the shortcut in Central Park which led to a small town in the highlands of Scotland. From there all she had to do was bounce around London a few times before landing practically right outside her little apartment above the shop where she worked.

    The whole trip usually only took her half an hour.

    To make it to work on time, she needed to do it in ten minutes.

    <hr />

    Hope you enjoy this chapter. The next part is from Del''s POV and perhaps it includes Del and Nyssa meeting for the first time =)

 Chapter 3.1 Del

    Del:

    The small shop was tucked unobtrusively in a corner of a bad part of town. The windows were dirty and there was rubbish sitting on the curb. Its shabby appearance was most likely designed for keeping ignorant humans out of the shop which was catered towards creatures that are best left as folklore and myth.

    The windchime by the door tinkled a soft melody as he entered, though there was no wind. It must be charmed to announce when there was a customer. Almost as soon as the soft chiming died out, a tiny blonde woman bustled out of the back room, lugging a crate of clinking bottles.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be there in a minute,¡± she called, not even glancing his way. Del took a moment to look around the store. Every inch of space was covered in stock. Too many rows of shelves were crammed into the tight space, with only the narrowest of gaps to navigate between them. Dried plants hung from the ceiling, some so low that Del needed to duck beneath them. The cloying scent of incense perforated the entire room, choking Del for a moment before he adjusted to the heavy air and overwhelming smell.

    Del turned his attention to the slim blonde bustling around the room. She was wearing a apron over many layers of glittery scarves and flowing shawls. Her hair was so matted that the ends had started to clump together in unintentional dreadlocks. Del reached out with his other senses. The ones that made him a little more than human. The magic flowing off the witch bubbled against his consciousness. He pushed past the distracting sensation, inspecting the witch¡¯s thoughts closer.

    There was no suspicion there, only scattered distraction. The witch bounced between ideas with little consistency, her mind fluttering about like a butterfly.

    Del shuddered. The chaos that permeated this woman was already giving him a headache.

    She flicked her fingers, snapping off a quick hex towards a box blocking her path. The crate rattled, then abruptly slammed itself sideways, almost upending a display of pickled animal limbs. She righted that with another quick gesture which sent a shiver through the wood. This, in turn, dislodged a cauldron above Del¡¯s head, sending it tumbling towards the floor. He plucked the heavy metal projectile out of the air before it could hit the tiles. This seemed to get the woman¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Oh, hi!¡± said the little witch. Del nodded a greeting and offered her the cauldron. She dropped the box she was carrying, narrowly missing Del¡¯s toes and took the cauldron.

    ¡°Thanks!¡± She stepped over the box by her feet and slotted the cauldron back in it¡¯s place, balancing it precariously on the edge of the shelf. She didn¡¯t seem to notice the cauldron¡¯s instability, returning to her box of stock.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.Remarkably, all the bottles seemed to have survived being dropped.

    ¡°Is there anything I can help you with?¡± she asked, turning away from him. Del reached up and nudged the cauldron so it sat more firmly on its shelf. He followed her down the narrow aisle.

    ¡°I wanted to look at your store,¡± he said, calmly ducking under a flying bottle.

    ¡°Anything in particular?¡± the witch asked, sending another bottle flying. ¡°I¡¯m Nivedita, by the way.¡± Del caught the bottle, seconds before it could smash against a wall and placed it on its shelf.

    She continued to chatter gayly, ignorant to the chaos she was creating around her. Del let her have her run of the conversation, only offering information when prompted. He followed the witch-shaped cyclone as she made her way around the shop, trailing his awareness along the shelves and walls and various knick knacks all the while. Almost every surface was saturated with the presence of a very powerful psychic.

    Del skimmed a fingertip along a row of paint-encrusted pots.

    A brief flash of delicate hands, dripping with rings, screwing open a lid.

    He lingered for a moment, sure that another second longer would show him her face. Del was now confident that his target was a her.

    Sun kissed skin. A low, throaty laugh. Luminous green eyes.

    A crash brought him out of his reverie.

    ¡°Oopsie,¡± said Nivedita with an unconcerned giggle. The glass ornament that lay broken at her feet was quickly swept up by her magic but the damage was done; his focus was shattered. Del still did not know what this girl looked like or why her rich energy was practically imbued in the walls of this place.

    A breeze danced through the open door, bringing with it the sharp scent of tart sweetness.

    Berries?

    The charm by the door tinkled and a tiny teenager skipped in, puffing. She discarded a bike helmet behind the desk.

 Chapter 3.2 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m late, Nivedita,¡± Nyssa said as she hurried through the door. Her friend was talking to a tall, smartly dressed stranger. He didn¡¯t look like their usual customers in his button up shirt, expensive looking jeans and neat haircut. Nyssa hovered just behind the two, listening to their conversation. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t a customer.

    Instinctively, Nyssa¡¯s mind reached out towards the two, brushing against Nivedita¡¯s familiar scattered thoughts and anchoring itself to the dark haired stranger. It was something she did so often, she barely even thought about it. Her awareness was almost always floating around her, reaching, caressing, probing. Feeding her information about her surroundings like any of her other senses. Sometimes her gift would reach a bit further and pluck something out of someone¡¯s past, or maybe even their future. What she found when she looked at this man surprised her.

    Nothing.

    No buzz of thought, no undercurrent of emotions. None of his intentions, or inane musings. Nothing.

    No one had been able to keep Nyssa out so effectively before. Sometimes it was possible to hide small things purposely by distracting her with huge amounts of other information. Even more rarely, someone could deliberately keep a specific thought from her by sheer will alone. But no one, no one, was as much of a blank slate as this man was.

    It could only mean one thing; this man was like her. Psychic.

    The only other People that shared her gift were the Caul; the Real World¡¯s unofficial police force. The Caul being in this little occult shop was bad news. It was unlikely that anything Nivedita did would draw their attention, but an untrained, uncontrolled, psychically gifted teenager living upstairs would definitely interest them.

    Nyssa and Nivedita shared a look over the man¡¯s shoulder. Nivedita was pale and her eye¡¯s wide, though she kept up with her usual chatter. The Caul paying a visit to her small establishment probably was not good news and the witch knew nothing about Nyssa¡¯s gifts.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Nyssa skirted around the two, keeping out the man¡¯s line of sight. He didn¡¯t even seem to notice she was here, engaged fully in his conversation with Nivedita. She whipped her apron over her head, keeping her face angled towards the floor.

    ¡°This damn Redcap infestation is bad for business,¡± Nivedita said. Normally Redcaps preferred to live in abandoned castles, killing intruders and soaking their hats in the blood of their victims. Increasingly, they were being found in the city, killing humans by the dozen. The stranger shrugged.

    ¡°Those demented dwarfs can kill just as easily in an abandoned house as they can in a castle.¡± His voice was low and even, a soft baritone that rumbled pleasantly. They talked for a few minutes more, first about Redcaps and other People that frequented the area and then about the sort of business the occult shop typically got.

    ¡°Thank you for your help, Nivedita,¡± the man said. ¡°Do you mind if I had a look around?¡±

    Nivedita gave him a shaky smile. ¡°Sure, help yourself.¡±

    He gave a little bow and wandered off into the stacks. Almost unnoticeably, his looping gate was interrupted by a small limp. Nyssa only observed the break in rhythm because she was watching the stranger so closely. He didn''t even glance her way, either not noticing her standing unobtrusively next to the spellbooks or deliberately ignoring her.

    As soon as he passed her, she skittered over to her friend, eyeing where he had disappeared nervously.

    <hr />

    Shout out to Facepalm who gave me a beautiful review, it is greatly appreciated.

    Welcome to all those who made it here from the post I made in Chronicles of Genticus. What do you think of my new work? Very different I know but I hope you are enjoying as much as you did my last work. Thanks for your support!

 Chapter 3.3 Del

    Del:

    She smelled of berries. He didn¡¯t expect that.

    For some reason it hadn''t occurred to him that she would smell of something. Up until this point, his target had been a nameless objective in some paperwork, not an actual person. Certainly not a person that looked as she did. She wore old jeans, the knees torn from hard use rather than any fashion statement. Her purple-red hair was gathered into two sloppy buns on the top of her head, frizzy tendrils escaping the uneven bunches to lay against her cheeks and neck. When she¡¯d entered the store, flashes of watery sunlight reflected off the mismatched jewelry hanging off her ears. She was older than he expected, only a handful of years younger than him rather than the fourteen or fifteen year old he¡¯d expected to find. It was impressive that she was able to stay off the Caul¡¯s radar for four or five years after she came into her abilities.

    She rushed passed him towards the witch who owned the dingy store. He pretended to browse the display of crystals while listening to their conversation.

    ¡°Who the hell is he?¡± asked his target.

    ¡°His name is Del,¡± said Nivedita, her voice high and light, more like a pixy¡¯s voice than a witch¡¯s. ¡°He¡¯s looking to open a store next door.¡±

    ¡°What a load of crock.¡± Del crooked a small smile at the odd profanity coming out of the girl¡¯s mouth. The two girls probably didn¡¯t realise how good his hearing was. He had no trouble hearing them whisper from across the room. ¡°Gimpy is lying through his teeth,¡± she continued. She was observant. Not many people noticed his limp right away and even fewer commented on it.

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    Del inspected the girl carefully. He allowed a thin tendril on his awareness to skate across the floor, hopefully slipping past the girl¡¯s notice. He ignored the buzzing energy bubbling over and practically leaking from the perky witch¡¯s pours. He honed in on the slow-moving pool of spirit centered around his target. There was more there than he realised. The lazy current of strength completely contrary to her insane, frazzled appearance.

    He prodded further, pushing against the defenses she had instinctively built around her mind. Probably unconsciously, his unexpected presence and her wariness of him had caused her to shield against mental intrusion. Her natural resistance was strong for someone so untrained. Another oddity. He probed again. He could tell that she was suspicious of him but that was about it. He couldn¡¯t sense any of her specific thoughts. He had no idea if she guessed that he was Caul or if she knew that he was here for her.

    This extraction was becoming more difficult by the minute.

 Chapter 3.4 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    Del approached her a little while later after he pretended to shop for a while. Nivedita was in the back office making frantic phone calls to some of her Real World contacts, trying to figure out why the Caul would be snooping around her small shop.

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± he said in his clipped, well-modulated accent. ¡°Could you please help me with these?¡± He offered the half dozen rocks he¡¯d collected to her. ¡°What do they do?¡±

    Up close Nyssa was able to study Del more closely. He wasn¡¯t as old as she expected, barely more than twenty or so. His expression was unchanging but dark eyes seemed to hide old grief. The creases between his brows and the stiff line of his jaw read like a book.

    Clench your teeth and push forward. Keep going. I am alright.

    She liked him, she decided.

    That was not necessarily a good thing for him. Nyssa gave him a grin, showing slightly pointed canines.

    ¡°This would be good for you, I think.¡± She chose a necklace with a chunk of polished, petrified wood hanging from it. ¡°Helps with inner harmony and relieves worries. Also, it calms the nerves and helps muscle healing.¡± Her eyes flickered to his left leg, the one he was subtly keeping his weight off.

    Del made a small noise in the back of his throat. She could tell she surprised him with her quick perusal of his character and observance. She picked up a box of essential oils waiting to be put on the shelves and began restocking.

    ¡°What does this one do?¡± he asked, trailing a finger over the small lump of purple fairy quartz hanging from her ear. His finger brushed against her jaw and she reacted automatically, slapping his hand away.

    ¡°No touching,¡± she said, like she would to a misbehaving dog, pointing her finger sternly at his face. He didn¡¯t smile, but his eyes crinkled like he found her amusing.

    ¡°Forgive me,¡± he said, inclining his head formally.

    Jeez, is this guy for real?

    ¡°What is your name, girl?¡± he asked softly.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to stop you right here,¡± she said, placing a bottle on the shelf with a sharp clink. ¡°This,¡± she gestured to the man, ¡°is a really great pitch. Not the one I was expecting, if I''m honest. Regardless, whatever you''re selling, I ain''t buying.¡±

    The stranger quirked a questioning eyebrow but Nyssa knew that he understood her. His neatly cropped hair refused to be ruffled by the slight breeze coming from the open door.

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    ¡°What do you mean, girl?¡± His attempt at confusion was almost laughable to someone like her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, I love this tall, dark and misunderstood thing you got going. The ¡®sullen angst¡¯ look really works for you.¡± Her eye¡¯s flickered appreciatively over his tall figure. ¡°Alas, I remain unconvinced.¡±

    His eyes glinted with amusement as if she had made a joke. ¡°I¡¯m not hitting on you, I¡¯m just shopping.¡± He held up his clutch of crystal necklaces as proof.

    Nyssa was not amused. She set her face in a serious glare.

    ¡°I¡¯m not joining The Wild Hunt,¡± she said, deliberately using the offensive nickname to get a rise out of him. Some of the People had given the Caul this nickname centuries ago and it had stuck. It had even leaked into regular human¡¯s folklore like a lot of the Real World did. The slight annoyed quirk of his mouth at the nickname confirmed that he was Caul. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter how prettily they wrap up the offer.¡± Her eyes once again danced over the man¡¯s broad shoulders and dark features. She brushed past him, heading towards the exit. She allowed one hand to trail over his chest - the highest she could comfortably reach on him - as she made what was supposed to be a dramatic exit.

    Del had other ideas.

    He snagged her wrist gently before she could flounce away, his fingers warm and firm.

    ¡°You need to come with me, girl,¡± he said earnestly.

    ¡°I don''t need to do anything.¡± She was indignant. She knew that sometimes her kind of abilities could be unruly. There were many stories of Caul losing control but Nyssa was quite capable of taking care of herself. She¡¯d lived with her abilities since she was thirteen. She¡¯d learned to handle them herself and she didn¡¯t need the Caul to save her.

    ¡°It¡¯s dangerous for you to be on your own,¡± Del said, tightening his grip on her wrist. She pulled her arm from his grip and he let her go. He could force her to go with him, she knew, but he wouldn¡¯t.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need your help, Superman.¡± She didn¡¯t look at him.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a week,¡± he said, ignoring her protests. ¡°Be ready to leave with me.¡± He breezed past her, discarding the necklaces he still held on the desk and leaving.

    Nyssa sighed, watching his back as he disappeared down the street.

    ¡°Fat chance, Superman.¡±

    <hr />

    I decided to do an extra upload this week because Monday''s post wasn''t very long and the next post wont be particularly long either, but you meet a new character which is exciting.

 Chapter 4.1 Finn

    Finn:

    Finn was awoken by a familiar flutter of awareness in the back of his mind. He was up and out of bed before he was fully awake. His tiny apartment, the best he could afford in the middle of London, was plunged into darkness. It was almost midnight and he had work in the morning. Nyssa had better have a good reason for showing up at his door in the middle of the night.

    ¡°I¡¯m coming, Nys-oof.¡± He ran into the kitchen bench trying to make his way to the door half asleep in the dark. He could hear Nyssa¡¯s muffled laughing. He glared at the door, rubbing his bruised hip. Finn ripped open the door, forgetting about the chain lock in his haste.

    ¡°Bloody hell,¡± he muttered, shutting the door, unlocking it and opening it again. Nyssa was outright laughing by the time he got the damn door unbolted.

    ¡°Hey, bro,¡± she said with a little grin. She had a duffle bag slung over her shoulder and a suitcase by her feet. He threw his arms around her, tucking her under his chin. His sister hadn''t visited since last christmas. He missed her.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    ¡°What are you doing here, Nys?¡± he said into her hair, pulling her into his apartment. She untangled herself from his grip, unslung her bag and threw it on the couch. Finn grabbed her suitcase from the hall and brought it inside.

    ¡°I ran into some trouble,¡± Nyssa said, throwing herself down next to her bag. Finn scoffed. Nyssa was always getting into trouble. ¡°I thought I would lay low with my poor human relations for a while.¡±

    Nyssa had been adopted by Finn¡¯s mother when she was twelve. Finn had immediately fallen under the mad pre-teen¡¯s spell and they had been as close as brother and sister ever since.

    ¡°You can bunk in the spare room.¡± He¡¯d kept the tiny room unrented for just this situation. ¡°I haven''t touched it since the last time you pissed off someone bigger than you.¡±

    Nyssa smiled up at him.

    ¡°Thanks, bro.¡±

    <hr />

    I said it was short =) What do you think of Finn?

 Chapter 4.2 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    The next day, Nyssa spent the entire morning cooped up in Finn¡¯s tiny apartment while her brother was at work. She was going mad with boredom. Just after midday, she decided she had enough. She scrawled a quick note to Finn and went out looking for something to do.

    London was a hub of Real World activity. The People liked to gather together just as much as humans did and large crowds and a huge population helped hide some of the more nefarious activities People like to indulge in. With her skills, it wouldn¡¯t be difficult for Nyssa to find employment. All that she needed to do was find somewhere she wanted to work and then bully the owner into paying her.

    A quick bus trip downtown and a shortcut through Paris and she found herself outside the Goblin Markets. Glamered and protected by fairy magic, the markets were undetectable to humans. Nyssa had only been here a few times before when she was younger, mostly with her Grandmother, looking for ingredients for potions. It was easy enough to find, though. The warehouse that housed the markets was covered with graffiti.

    Morning and evening

    Maids heard the goblins cry:

    ¡°Come buy our orchard fruits,

    Come buy, come buy¡±

    She pushed at the wall, her hands slipping past the insubstantial stone as if it were only mist. Once she passed the barrier, the roar of hundreds of People confined in a small space washed over her. She ducked instinctively as a pixie swooped low, laughing gayly. Nyssa laughed at its antics, enjoying the atmosphere.

    There was a buzzing undercurrent of energy vibrating around the bustling crowd. Surging and ebbing like wave. Unconsciously, Nyssa swayed, aligning herself with the pulse of the horde. She slipped into the throng, easing her way around a group of fairies and between an ogre and its pet imp. Kobolds, gnomes, ghouls and even a kelpie were all attending the markets.

    She wondered around the markets for almost an hour, soaking in the atmosphere and sampling the wares. She also spent the time dipping into the thoughts of those moving around her. Most were unimportant trivialities but eventually Nyssa found what she was searching for. A tiny female goblin sat unobtrusively on an upended barrel. The position gave her a good view of most of the market without drawing too much attention to her. Nyssa approached the goblin.

    ¡°You are the one I need to talk to about getting hired,¡± Nyssa said. It wasn¡¯t a question. The goblin glanced at her, giving her a quick perusal and then grunting something in the language of the goblins. Nyssa was not put off.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°I know you can understand me.¡± Nyssa could read her thoughts. The goblin understood her and she wasn¡¯t interested in hiring a teenage girl. Nyssa could change that.

    ¡°You need someone with my skills, Blodwyn ab Gwyn.¡± The goblin started and the sound of her name. ¡°See that Imp behind me?¡± Nyssa did even need to turn around. Blodwyn¡¯s eyes flickered towards the stall that stood behind Nyssa, just to the right. ¡°He is about to swipe that crystal ball.¡± Almost as soon as Nyssa said the words, the imp glanced around suspiciously and then pocketed the large crystal. Blodwyn¡¯s eyebrows quirked. She pulled out a walky-talky and grunted into it. The goblin language was low and primarily snorts and grunts. Nyssa could understand it by sensing thoughts and intentions, but she couldn¡¯t replicate the many guttural noises.

    ¡°That fairy over by the pickled limbs was banned from the markets almost a century ago for glamoring money.¡± Nyssa gave the ugly little goblin a soft smile. ¡°It seems like he is up to his old tricks again.¡± Blodwyn narrowed her eyes at the fairy and then glanced at Nyssa.

    ¡°Come with me.¡± The goblin shuffled off the barrel and marched swiftly through the crowd. Blodwyn was less than half Nyssa¡¯s height with squat, thick limbs and grey skin. Her face was broad and squashed looking and the few tufts of hair she had was pulled back in a severe bun.

    Blodwyn led Nyssa to a small building by the main entrance. The outer door only had a basic lock on it but the inner door Blodwyn led her through glowed faintly with wards. The goblin inserted one dirty, talon tipped finger into a hole by the door. The knots and luminous twists that made up the wards coiled around her finger before flashing brightly. The door clicked open.

    Inside was a modern marvel. Computers were stacked along the desk taking up most of the space, lights blinking steadily. Every inch of wall was covered with monitors showing a steady stream of live images from every part of markets from almost every angle.

    Blodwyn approached one of the computers and placed her fingertip on a scanner. The computer blinked to life and flashed a series of Celtic runes. Blodwyn bashed on the keyboard for a few minutes before bringing up an image of the fae Nyssa had pointed out on the market floor. She picked up her walky-talky and barked a few commands in goblinese. Nyssa grinned at the tiny Person who was scrutinising her. One on the monitors showed the fairy being dragged away by a grey-skinned ghoul with a black armband on.

    ¡°You can start right away,¡± Blodwyn grunted.

 Chapter 5.1 Del

    Del:

    The girl had disappeared off the face of the earth. When Del left the occult shop, he set up a permanent guard to follow her in case she tried to run. The resourceful little brat had somehow managed to evade her protection detail and escape the very same night he visited her. He¡¯d been looking for any trace of her since. Without even a name, tracking her was proving to be a problem.

    He¡¯d reached out to his Real World contacts and found someone who might have information on her. He was on his way to meet him now. The sun was setting and he only had a small window of time to meet with his contact. He was a Pooka and they only liked to do business at dusk.

    Del banged on the door with his fist. A panel at about eye level slid open and a pair of black eyes peered out.

    ¡°I have an appointment with Rehan,¡± Del said. The panel slammed shut and there was some shuffling on the other side of the door. Del recognised the creature who opened the door as a Kobold. The squat demon waddled down the long hallway, Del trailing behind him. The Kobold guard led him into a dark room, dotted with expensive, tasteless furniture. It almost disappeared into the dimness with its black, burnt-looking skin, but its bright shock of red hair stood out in the dark.

    ¡°You are Del?¡± a high, feminine voice asked. A woman was draped across an elaborately embroidered settee. She was beautiful with blood red lips and pale, poreless skin. Del nodded. She rose gracefully, slinking across the dim room. Her golden hair floated around her shoulders, falling in soft waves. ¡°I did not expect the Caul to send someone so¡­¡± her eyes flickered over his figure, ¡°delicious.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough, Aibhlinn,¡± said a raspy voice from the far corner of the room. The woman, Aibhlinn, flashed him a slow smile, showing her sharp canines. She glided away and sunk back onto the settee, arching her back and eyeing him suggestively.

    ¡°Rehan, I presume,¡± Del said to the shadow. A breathy laugh echoed from its direction.

    ¡°You are Caul.¡± It wasn¡¯t a question but Del nodded.

    ¡°I need information.¡±

    Rehan chuckled again. ¡°You surely do,¡± he said, in his halting accent. The shadow shifted. Firelight glinted off a matted, dirty mane.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for a girl.¡±

    A slow exhale. ¡°Ain¡¯t we all?¡±

    ¡°She was seen at one of your gambling rings.¡± The pooka pulled back, deeper into the shadows. The clop of cloven feet against stone echoed through the grandiose room.

    ¡°Young,¡± Del pressed, despite the apprehension radiating off Rehan. ¡°No more than twenty. Hair the colour of ripened plums, smells of tart sweetness. She¡¯s slim with olive skin and-¡±

    ¡°Mayhap you are mistooken,¡± Rehan interrupted, his voice vicious. ¡°I know not of the place you describe, nor the girl. I am nought but a humble businessman, making a livin¡¯ off farmin¡¯ and the like.¡±

    ¡°Rehan,¡± Del said dryly, ¡°the Caul are quite aware of your dealings in the underground. We don¡¯t care if you wish to supplement your money lending with a side business or two. What we do care about is finding this girl.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know what you talk of, boy,¡± said Aibhlinn, leaning further back in her chair and sliding her legs together sensually.

    ¡°Now, now, Aibhlinn,¡± said Rehan in his breathy drawl. ¡°Not so hasty-like. Some things may be comin¡¯ back to me.¡±

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    ¡°You will help this Caul scum?¡± Aibhlinn lifted a disbelieving eyebrow delicately.

    ¡°We are on very kindly terms with our Caul brothers,¡± Rehan said. ¡°There is no reason why we can¡¯t do a favour for our friends. Mayhap our friends will be wanting to do us a favour in the future.¡±

    Del deliberated the offer, for that is what it was, for a second before nodding slowly. A favour for a favour. Rehan giggled, delighted.

    ¡°The girl you talk of was here.¡± Rehan rose as he spoke, moving across the room. He wove in an out of the shadows, the flank of his equine body was dark and dirt-streaked. ¡°She beat a formidable fae opponent. She was after some healing magic.¡±

    ¡°She was hurt?¡± Del asked.

    ¡°Nae, she didnae say what she need the healing fer. Her opponent told me the little Jinn mutt was muchly skilled. She didnae lose a single hand that she didnae want to.¡± Del sighed. This was another dead end.

    ¡°I¡¯m not looking for a Jinn girl,¡± he explained. ¡°I¡¯m after one of my own.¡± Another wheezy laugh.

    ¡°Misplaced a little Caul brat, aye?¡± Rehan shifted delightedly and then sobered up, his voice turning serious. ¡°But, nae, this girl is who you seek. A little bit Jinn, a little bit¡­not. She say she could read minds, she did. Mayhap, that was nae a joke.¡±

    Del frowned thoughtfully. A Jinn parent would explain how she slipped out of Caul influence. It would also explain her apparent knowledge of the Real World. Interbreeding between the People was uncommon, but it would account for a lot of the unknowns surrounding the girl.

    ¡°Thank you, Rehan,¡± Del said, with a formal bow. ¡°You have been most helpful.¡± He turned to leave.

    ¡°One more thing, boy,¡± Rehan called. The pooka stepped fully into the light, revealing his horse''s face and matted, black mane. His mouth didn¡¯t move as he spoke his next words, but his dark eyes glinted dangerously. ¡°She also did say she could see the future.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡± No Caul could see the future. Only the past could be glimpsed at.

    ¡°¡®Tis what she says.¡± Rehan seemed to shrug before turning away. ¡°Mayhap you would not be too hasty-like to say ¡®impossible¡¯ if you saw what she did do.¡±

    Del only stared. What Rehan said was simply absurd.

    ¡°It is nice helping allies,¡± Rehan said, dismissing him. ¡°Good day, my friend.¡±

    Impossible.

    <hr />

    What did you think of Rehan? Fun fact, Rehan''s odd way of talking was inspired by a very uneducated woman screaming at me while I was at work! #Retail. She used a lot of the words he does (e.g. misstooken, and did do etc.) It was also, in part, taken from Joss Whedon''s Serenity and Firefly (if you have not seen that TV show/movie, you need to stop what you''re doing and watch it now!). I just love the way Joss always creates a whole other way of speaking in a lot of his work (i.e. Buffy). I also threw in a little Scottish-isms (nae) to tie it in with the UK setting.

    I enjoyed writing this chapter and I enjoy Rehan''s character and will no doubt use him again.

    The next chapter is the beginning of my favourite part of the book. It introduces another new character, whom I love dearly. It also contains a good bit of action (finally). Give your best guess as to what will happen and I will tell you how close you are =)

 Chapter 5.2 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    Nyssa was busy looking into the future.

    She had her sketch book balanced on one knee and a half eaten burrito arranged on the other. The paper was filled with numbers and half-finished sketches of faces and assorted objects.

    ¡°What are you doing this weekend, Wolfgang?¡± she asked into the comm. She propped her feet up on one of the computer¡¯s keyboards causing the machine to make an urgent beep beep beep!

    Nyssa moved so fast she almost dislodged her burrito and mashed a few buttons on the console, turning off the alarm.

    ¡°Command,¡± said a dry voice coming through the comm, now under the table.  ¡°I will remind you that the comm should only be used for official security-related issues.¡±

    ¡°Party pooper.¡± Nyssa took a gulp of her tea and deposited the remainder of her burrito in the mini fridge she installed. Humming a little tune, she sketched the beautiful face of a young Nymph girl.

    ¡°Wolfgang, possible target,¡± Nyssa barked, suddenly serious. ¡°Eastern Quarter by the meangery. Nymph female, approximately 175cm, blonde hair, green dress, banging bod.¡± A few seconds later, Wolfgang¡¯s gravelly voice came thought the comm.

    ¡°Command, I have eyes on the target. What is she going to do?¡± Most of the security staff had accepted Nyssa¡¯s strange ability to sense crime before it happened.

    ¡°Nothing,¡± Nyssa grinned at the screen showing Wolfgang¡¯s wiry frame. ¡°But she¡¯s totally your type. You should ask for her number.¡±

    Wolfgang glared dryly at Nyssa through one of the cameras. The monitors were only black and white by Nyssa could almost see Wolfgang¡¯s eyes flash red with annoyance.

    He took his job way too seriously.

    The name Wolfgang didn¡¯t suit the somber ghoul. It probably wasn¡¯t his own name. Because they lived so long, many ghouls switched identities regularly. They usually just took the name (and social security) of their latest snack. According to Wolfgang, dead flesh was a delicacy and usually left a grave conveniently empty. Wolfgang worked during the day at the goblin markets and then at night when his body reverted back to being corpsified, he slept in a very comfortable coffin as the dearly departed Edgar Vincent Wolfgang.

    All in all, a good setup for all parties involved. Except maybe the guy getting eaten.

    ¡°Code red,¡± Nyssa snapped, drawing furiously. Visions flashed in front of her eyes, distracting her. She pushed them out of the way and focused on the paper on her lap. The stark white and swift brush of the pencil helped clarify her thoughts. ¡°Just north of you, Wolfie. Do you see the two thugs by the entrance?¡±

    ¡°What do they look like?¡±

    ¡°Um,¡± Nyssa wasn¡¯t too sure. The images were a bit muddled. There was too much going on. ¡°They look ¡­ the same. They are about to start trouble with another customer.¡±

    ¡°There are twins by the front door,¡± Wolfgang said, conversationally. He was confident that he could handle a couple of goons. ¡°Ugly, they have to be at least part ogre.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s them,¡± Nyssa leaned forward in her chair so she could flick through the different feeds on the nearest monitor. She focused in on Wolfgang¡¯s wiry frame, pushing through the surging crowd towards the two goons. ¡°Get them out of-wait!¡± Wolfgang froze. ¡°There''s more of them.¡± Even as she spoke, two more bulky goons, bigger than the twins, stepped inside the market doors.

    ¡°Bannafet, back Wolfgang up,¡± Nyssa said into the comm. Bannafet, another member of the security team, only grunted. Nyssa had yet to hear Bannafet speak, she doubted he was intelligent enough, but he did come in handy during a fight. Bannafet was a trow; big and ugly with skin like rock and an appetite for anything it could get it¡¯s hands on (Nyssa had seen Bannafet chow down on bone and rock indiscriminately). Bannafet¡¯s immense strength and ability to regrow hacked off limbs served him well in his line of work.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Wolfgang approached the group of bulky ogres. The didn¡¯t notice him, instead, they made a beeline for a small stall manned by a wizened old goblin. The goblin looked as if he was about to make a run for it but before he could, one of the twins grabbed his thin forearm. The monitors didn¡¯t have any sound, but Nyssa could see that the tiny goblin was distressed. Just as the goblin began to pull money out of the stall¡¯s strongbox, Wolfgang reached the group.

    He talked to the twins for a moment, his dark eyes narrowing menacingly and flashing an angry red. When that didn¡¯t work, Wolfgang punched one of them in the mouth.

    Twin one went reeling, his bulk stumbled off one way and his teeth went the other. His hand was ripped from the goblin¡¯s forearm and the little creature lost no time disappearing into the crowd. Wolfgang turned neatly on his heel and drove his fist into the other twin¡¯s considerable gut.

    He went down like a tonne of bricks.

    Before the other two goons could make a move, Bannafet arrived. The hulking security guard dwarfed the massive the massive thugs. Bannafet grabbed the two by their collars and literally threw them out into the street.

    Meanwhile, Wolfgang was grouched next to where Thing One and Thing Two lay sprawled on the dirty ground. He was talking to them quietly but whatever they said must have enraged him. He grabbed one goon by the hair and began dragging him towards the exit. That didn¡¯t go down well with his brother who lept at the ghoul. Wolfgang dodged his clumsy strike almost disdainfully and delivered a devastating kick to the moron¡¯s temple, knocking him out cold.

    Wolfgang grabbed two fists full of hair and dragged the brothers out into the cold, one still struggling valiantly, the other a dead weight. When he had finished disposing of the rubbish, she shot the camera - and Nyssa - a wry grin.

    ¡°Well that was exciting,¡± Nyssa said mildly. Wolfgang shoved his fingers through his shoulder length hair, pushing it out of his face.

    ¡°Are they coming back, Nyssa?¡± he asked through his headpiece. Nyssa flipped over a fresh page, looking into the future for any signs of the goons. After only a moment, her pencil began to sing.

    She drew violently, scrapping the pencil so fiercely over paper that the sharpened lead was ground down to almost nothing. Images danced before her eyes.

    A stone angel weeping.

    Water dripping over budding roses.

    Fog creeping through the darkening shadows.

    The uneven tread of cobblestones.

    She thickened the twisted lines of her sketch, digging deeply into the soft paper, again and again.

    Eventually, her vision cleared and her hands steadied. She was left with a scene of carnage described in lead and a foreboding feeling in her stomach. She eventually became aware of Wolfgang¡¯s slightly panicked voice calling her name through the comm and someone banging on the office door. She ignored them both, lifting up her artwork to the light of the monitors.

    ¡°Well, there goes my whole weekend.¡±

    <hr />

    There is a bit more action in these next few chapters. I hope you''re looking forward to it as much as I am. Tell me what you think of Wolfgang/ghouls so far. I had fun creating his character and he is a major part of the next few chapters.

 Chapter 6.1 Wolfgang

    Wolfgang:

    A girl was leaning casually up against the door, one boot propped up against the wood behind her, tapping an unrecognisable tune. She was frowning at the phone in her hands and her fingers blurred as she furiously texted. Wolfgang could hear the rapid click click click of the keyboard from across the dingy room. She didn''t even glance up when he approached so he cleared his throat meaningfully.

    She didn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Uh,¡± he ducked a little, trying to get in her line of sight, ¡°I need to go through that door you''re leaning on.¡±

    ¡°Just a minute.¡± Her voice sounded familiar, though her looks were anything but. Wolfgang would have remembered someone who dressed as bizarrely and she did. Her tattered jeans and knee high boots were normal enough but she also wore a teenage mutant ninja turtle t-shirt, fingerless pink gloves and smiley face earrings. Her curly dark hair was gathered into two bunches by her ears which made her look absurdly young. She couldn¡¯t be more than nineteen or twenty.

    ¡°What are you still doing here, girl?¡± he said, irritated. ¡°We are closed.¡± Her soft laugh was low and throaty and too grown up for the fresh faced teen.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to escort you home, Wolfie.¡± She finally looked up from her phone, flashing him a half-grin. Her eyes sparked with mischief.

    ¡°Nyssa?¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°In the flesh.¡± She winked at him and pushed off the door using her propped up foot.

    Wolfgang blinked, befuddled by the turn of events. He struggled to equate the sarcastic, droll voice from the other end of the comm with this eclectic teen.

    ¡°What is going on?¡± he asked. Nyssa snagged his leather jacket from the hooks assigned to the staff and lobbed it at him. He plucked it out of the air before it hit him in the face but didn''t put it on. She slipped on the faded trench coat that always hung there and breezed past him.

    ¡°No time for questions, Wolfgang,¡± she said cheerfully, mashing a battered beanie haphazardly onto her head and whipping a matching scarf over her neck. ¡°We are going to be late to your murder.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    She flashed him a grin, her eyes glittering mischievously. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± She flicked one end of her scarf over her shoulder and marched out into the rain. At a loss, Wolfgang followed her.

    The night air was brisk. The cold didn¡¯t bother his kind much but Wolfgang pulled his coat on anyway. A teenage boy wearing nothing but a t-shirt in the sleet would draw too much attention. By the time he had made it out the door, Nyssa was a good way down the street.

    ¡°What do you mean murder?¡± Wolfgang yelled, jogging to catch up with her.

    <hr />

    And so the plot thickens.

 Chapter 6.2 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    ¡°See over here?¡± Nyssa asked, pointing to a dark smear on the artwork she¡¯d drawn less than an hour before. ¡°That¡¯s you.¡±

    Wolfgang tilted his head, squinting at the drawing as best he could while walking briskly towards his home.

    ¡°Where is the rest of me?¡±

    ¡°Over here,¡± she said, pointed to opposite end of the paper.

    ¡°How macabre,¡± Wolfgang said mildly. He ran his fingers over the rest of the drawing, smudging it as the rain fell and soaked into the thick paper. Four deep indentations gained his attentions. His fingers found the ridges where Nyssa¡¯s pencil had dug deep, sketching the writhing shapes. ¡°I get torn apart by snakes?¡± Wolfgang seemed to take Nyssa¡¯s revelation in his stride. There was none of the usual questions or disbelief.

    ¡°Nothing so literal as that,¡± Nyssa explained. ¡°You actually get stabbed through the head. The snakes are just a representation. Four snakes, four enemies. Probably men.¡±

    ¡°Why men?¡±

    ¡°Snakes mean men or male feelings like aggression or ruthlessness or determination. Or sometimes they are representation sexual desire.¡± Nyssa rose an eyebrow suggestively. Wolfgang cleared his throat, a faint pink colouring his otherwise grey skin.

    ¡°So, four men then.¡±

    Nyssa laughed. ¡°Black snakes. That means corruption, evil, rage, basically anything bad. Snakes are also seductive, they entice and encourage evil. They aren¡¯t blind fury; they are cunning.¡±

    ¡°So the four men from the market have planned an ambush somewhere along my route home.¡± He peered ahead as if he could pierce the surrounding darkness through sheer will alone.

    ¡°You are good at this game,¡± Nyssa said, impressed they he¡¯d guessed at the danger that lay ahead of them so quickly.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we be heading the other direction?¡± Wolfgang stopped and shoved his fingers roughly through his shoulder length hair, slicking the damp strands behind his ears. ¡°I, for one, want to be walking away from the people who want scatter bits of me across the whole of London.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, so next week they can try the same thing,¡± she said dryly, stopping to look back at Wolfgang. He stood in the middle of the street, hair tucked behind his ears and shoulders hunched. ¡°Better we face them now when we know what¡¯s coming.¡± She started walking again, and Wolfgang followed obediently. They soon arrived at the graveyard Wolfgang called home.

    ¡°Think of the bright side,¡± she called as she scaled the graveyard¡¯s gate, landing heavily on her feet on the other side, ¡°if we do end up stopping them tonight, you will probably get a good snack out of it.¡±

    Outside the protection of the buildings, the wind and sleet hit them head on. Nyssa shivered and pulled her coat tighter around her, covering her lower face with her scarf.

    ¡°How do you know where I live?¡± Wolfgang called from the top of the gate.

    Nyssa rolled her eyes heavenward, weaving in and out of the headstones nimbly. I predicted his death and that is what he is concerned with.

    Wolfgang jogged to catch up to her, talking cheerfully. Nyssa tuned him out, clutching her drawing to her chest.

    There, the rose bush. Its thorns glistened ominously with beaded drops of rain. Wolfgang sidestepped the bush easily, not aware of the warning it broadcasted.

    Cobblestones, fog twisting around gnarled tree roots, rain streaming down a stone angel¡¯s face like tears. She¡¯d seen this all before.

    This was the place.

    Nyssa said something to Wolfgang, her voice muffled by her scarf.

    ¡°What?¡± Wolfgang paused his brisk walk to stare at her.

    Nyssa pulled the scarf away from her mouth.

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    ¡°Duck,¡± she said calmly. Wolfgang immediately dropped to the ground, his knees hitting the rough stone hard enough to bruise a normal human.

    But Wolfgang was not normal, and he certainly wasn¡¯t human.

    There was a flash of starlight reflected off steel and a headstone exploded into pieces, raining chunks of masonry down on his shoulders and neck. Just seconds before, Wolfgang¡¯s head had occupied the space where that wicked looking blade was now buried hilt deep into the stone.

    Wolfgang didn¡¯t stop to gawk. With faster reflexes than should have been naturally possible, Wolfgang snagged Nyssa by the wrist and dragged her behind a tree.

    ¡°Told you,¡± Nyssa said, smiling despite the circumstances, ¡°stabbed in the head.¡± She pointed to the long knife, a short sword really, that was sticking out of what used to be Margaret Doyer, loving mother and wife¡¯s gravestone.

    ¡°What happens now?¡± Wolfgang whispered harshly, ignoring Nyssa¡¯s triumphant grin and peering into the darkness. The rain had stopped at least but the fog refused to disperse and the night was moonless and dark.

    ¡°How should I know?¡± Nyssa said at a normal volume. Wolfgang shot her a withering glare, his black eyes narrowing savagely.

    ¡°How should I know?¡± she repeated, matching his hushed whisper.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you see the future?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s going to start raining again in an hour,¡± she said dryly. When Wolfgang shot her another glare she just shrugged.

    ¡°I don''t see everything,¡± she explained. ¡°Once I stopped your brain prematurely hemorrhaging, the future changed. We are on our own.¡±

    ¡°What do we do?¡± Wolfgang eased his head around the trunk of the tree, low to the ground. Anyone watching would expect him to poke his face out at about head height. Hopefully, they won''t be watching down low.

    ¡°I don''t know, I didn¡¯t think we¡¯d get this far,¡± Nyssa said, cheerfully unhelpful. A shrug and a suggestion to ¡°wing it,¡± was the best she could offer.

    Wolfgang couldn¡¯t see anything in the direction the knife was thrown from, there were too many headstones and trees in the way. Hopefully, that meant they were out of sight of their enemies as well.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Wolfgang slumped against the tree, running his hands roughly through his long hair, ¡°we head back to my grave, string them out and take them out one by one.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± she said. Her frizzy locks bounced by her ears, despite the rain that had soaked into them. Her eyes flickered to a patch of darkness far away from where the knife had come from. ¡°A vagabond doth approach from o¡¯er that hill yonder.¡±

    Wolfgang pulled a face, the bewildered expression looking odd on his grey, sallow features.

    ¡°What?¡± He yanked her back from where she was peering around the tree, trying to spy the enemy. They ended up kneeling face to face in the bed damp leaves and mulch laying on the ground.

    ¡°You¡¯re super old right?¡± she said innocently. ¡°I thought I would talk in your language.¡± Wolfgang suspected she was teasing him.

    ¡°First of all, I¡¯m middle eastern. I never spoke Old English,¡± a rustling of a bush drew his attention, ¡°and second,¡± he continued, distracted, ¡°that sentence made no sense.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re missing the point,¡± she said, rolling out of her crouch and crawling away from the measly protection of the tree, ¡°someone is coming.¡± She could feel the tightly wound knot of rage and male violence creeping closer to their hiding spot.

    Wolfgang swore softly and crawled after her, moving so he was almost on top of her. His hot breath brushed against the back of her neck, smelling slightly of rotting flesh. Wet, freezing sludge squished between her fingers and dampened the knees of her jeans.

    She was cold and dirty and at that moment considering if this was worth the absolute nightmare getting the mud out of her hair was going to be.

    <hr />

    What do you think of Wolfgang?

 Chapter 6.3 Wolfgang

    Wolfgang:

    They crawled to the next row of headstones where a smattering of rose bushes provided some measly cover. Nyssa pointed silently to a slight rise with shadows that seemed slightly deeper than the rest of the graveyard. It would be a perfect place to find cover but Nyssa didn¡¯t seem to be guessing, she knew someone hid there.

    Wolfgang¡¯s instincts were to trust this slim, slip of a girl. Her round green eyes were so earnest and her sarcastic words so matter of fact, it was hard not to trust her. He gestured for her to stay put and moved to circumnavigate the hill.

    His jaw clicked, shifting under his skin to accommodate his lengthening teeth. He crept along a shallow gully, allowing his body to shift and change beneath his skin. His shoulders hunched and bulked up, stretching his clothing and wiry hair sprouted on the back of his neck. A bush rustled though there was no wind. Someone was there.

    He could smell him.

    He reeked of cigarettes and old sweat and rage. Wolfgang shifted through the shadows, savoring the delicious thrill of the hunt. His prey crouched behind a weeping angel, watching the tree he and Nyssa had been hiding behind. He held a long knife, the twin to the one embedded in stone a few metres away.

    Wolfgang attacked, going for the hand that held the knife. His soft flesh yielded under sharp teeth and the sound of bone crunching echoed across the silent graveyard. The man screamed in pain and fear, jerking away from the unexpected attack. The knife slipped from his useless fingers and clattered against the stone of the grave.

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    The beast that used to be Wolfgang lunged again this time aiming for his prey¡¯s throat. The terrified man tried to ward off the attack with his ruined hand, falling back, screaming shrilly, slipping in blood.

    Once again, Wolfgang ripped through flesh, tearing at whatever he could reach. He shredded through his prey¡¯s extended hand, crushing through meat, bone and sinew indiscriminately.

    Wolfgang pulled back allowing his prey to escape, sans a few fingers. He leaned back on haunches, gnawing on his prize and watching as the man half crawled, half stumbled away clutching his mutilated hand and sobbing. He made his way back down to Nyssa, finger bones crunching between his too-long teeth. He was still sucking the marrow from them when Nyssa crawled out from underneath the roses.

    ¡°One down,¡± he said, wiping halfheartedly at the blood staining his chin and neck with his sleeve.

    ¡°Four to go,¡± she said, shivering in her mud soaked clothes.

    Wolfgang frowned. ¡°There is only three left.¡± Nyssa shook her head a little, making her beanie slip a little to one side. She smiled.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I meant,¡± she said.

    She started walking towards Wolfgang¡¯s grave leaving him to trail behind her.

    <hr />

 Chapter 6.4 Del

    Del:

    Del was in a melancholy sort of mood. He had spent the day visiting the west wing and the experience usually left him exhausted and reflective. He was headed back to his room when the distraction of the fresh night air drew him into contemplation of the night sky.

    That¡¯s where Myra found him hours later.

    ¡°Where have you been all day, Del?¡± she asked. Myra was an old classmate of Del¡¯s. They two of them graduated their studies the same year and had been assigned to the same compound ever since. Her pale, perfect skin was delicately flushed from the brisk breeze blowing through the open window Del was sitting at.

    ¡°The west wing,¡± he answered, not looking away from the stars. Like most people at the compound, Myra didn¡¯t pry as to the details. The west wing was talked about in hushed whispers or not at all. Myra climbed up beside Del on the window sill he perched on. She folded her long legs beneath her and fixed her blue doll eyes on Del¡¯s hunched figure.

    They were silent for a long while.

    ¡°Do you ever wish we were children again?¡± Del asked. Myra¡¯s mind flittered back to her childhood years; her too long legs, the constant rush of emotions, the confusing adjustments.

    ¡°No,¡± she said with a vehement shake of her head. Her short waves bounced around her ears and stuck to the gloss coating her lips. She flicked the dark strands away impatiently.

    Del gave her a sideways glance. He got a brief impression of her thoughts and suppressed the urge to sigh his frustration. That wasn¡¯t what he meant.

    ¡°Everything looked so different when we were younger,¡± he explained, returning his gaze to the sky.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Myra looked up at the sky, trying to discern what Del was seeing. The stars, the moon, the dark voids in between. There was nothing strange about the way the stars hung tonight.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you think the sky looks flat now?¡± said Del. As a child, they sky always seem endlessly complex; a mosaic of infinite depth and layered beauty. But now... ¡°The moon looks sort of ¡­ hollow.¡±

    ¡°Del?¡± Myra¡¯s voice was low and worried. She reached out her hand, palm down as if she were approaching a scared animal. He flinched away from her touch and her concern.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    He sighed. The concrete walls and no-nonsense offices of the Caul compound were no place for such contemplations. He forced such thoughts from his mind and gave Myra a rueful smile.

    ¡°Where are you coming from?¡± he asked her, changing the subject. This part of the building wasn¡¯t her usual haunt; her rooms were in the opposite wing. Myra¡¯s full lips split into a grin, all thoughts of Del¡¯s strange reflection forgotten.

    ¡°I have just been given a new assignment,¡± she explained. That made sense, most of the offices and conference rooms were on this level. ¡°There have been reports of a wild talent operating out of London, I¡¯ve been sent on a recruitment mission.¡±

    ¡°I thought I was assigned to that mission.¡±

    Myra shook her head, her wavy bob dancing about her ears. ¡°These are new reports,¡± she explained. ¡°I¡¯m investigating a much younger talent, probably just coming into their abilities.¡± Del uncrossed his legs and turned to face Myra, the night sky completely forgotten with this new revelation.

    ¡°Two wild talents at once?,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s unheard of. How have we managed to misplace so many of our own at once?¡±

    Myra leaned closer conspiratorially, her perfume brushing against his skin and crawling down his throat.

    ¡°Reports of wild talents have been on the rise for years,¡± she whispered, her face turning deadly serious. ¡°They say it is because of people deserting.¡±

    Outside the protection of the compounds, survival the Real World would be almost impossible. It was not unbelievable that deserters would leave orphans behind. There was one problem with that line of reasoning though.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of someone deserting the Caul,¡± Del said. Myra unfolded herself from her perch and jumped athletically down to the floor.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of two wild talents in the same year,¡± she pointed out with a shrug and a smirk.

    Leaving Del to his thoughts, she disappeared down the hall with a farewell flutter of her fingers and a soft smile.

    <hr />

    I thought I would give you guys an extra upload, considering the last one was so short.

    Well, now you know why it''s called Hollow Moon ;)

 Chapter 7.1 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    ¡°I bet you 50 bucks I can make it to that row of graves without being seen,¡± Nyssa whispered conversationally to Wolfgang. They lay on their stomachs under a rickety bench. The graves Nyssa was referring to were almost ten metres away, on the other side of a waist-high chain fence.

    Wolfgang shot her a skeptical look out of the corner of his eyes. ¡°There is two of our friends between here and there.¡± It had been almost ten minutes since Wolfgang had bitten a chunk out of the first ogre¡¯s hand. They had taken to ground when his friends had come to investigate the screams.

    ¡°I bet you can¡¯t do it,¡± Nyssa said, a challenge glinting in her eyes. The wind whipped her hair around her face. She shivered. They would need to move soon anyway. The temperature had continued to drop and the mud they were lying in was beginning to freeze. It didn¡¯t bother Wolfgang much but Nyssa was still half human.

    ¡°You¡¯re on,¡± he said, shaking her outstretched hand firmly.

    Nyssa wiggled out from underneath the bench, shivering again when the wind hit her. She took a minute to stretch out her frozen limbs and loosen the joints that had stiffened from the awkward position she¡¯d been forced into. She could sense the malevolent aura of their enemies on either side of the path she was going to take. They were alert and angry.

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    Look away, she thought in their direction. She slipped out of the shadows of the trees, crouching gracelessly in the mud. When she was sure the Thing One and Thing Two were facing the other direction she wiggled over the open ground on her stomach and elbows. She kept her face pressed to the grass. Don¡¯t look, don¡¯t look, don¡¯t look.

    Her head hit the fence and sent it jingling. She froze at the soft sound, waiting for one of the men to shout out. A short pause where Nyssa monitored the men¡¯s minds. There was no reaction. No sharp spike in attentiveness, no suspicion or curiosity. She heaved a sigh of relief then heaved herself over the fence.

    <hr />

    Another short one but there will be an extra upload on Wednesday

 Chapter 7.2 Wolfgang

    Wolfgang:

    Nyssa was the furthest thing from nimble Wolfgang had ever seen crawl out of a puddle of mud. She scrambled over the shadowy ground, her butt poking up out of the grass the whole trip, clambered over the chainlink fence, sending it rattling madly, landed in a heap on the other side and then continued slithering along the ground, completely in the wrong direction. She even sneezed once when the grass tickled her nose. Eventually she made it to her target area of shadow after traipsing through all the noisiest bushes in the immediate area.

    By some miracle she went unnoticed.

    Now it was his turn. He copied Nyssa¡¯s actions, albeit more gracefully, slipping silently over the undulating ground using the shifting shadows and uncertain light to hide his movement. Unlike Nyssa, Wolfgang chose to surmount the fence by way of a tree. He figured scaling the solid looking oak would be quieter than climbing the rattley fence. At the base of the oak he paused to listen. He could hear the soft whoosh of Nyssa¡¯s slightly panicked breathing and the slower, calmer breaths of their stalkers. Their soft footfalls were a comfortable distance away.

    Wolfgang reached up and dug his hands into the yielding bark. His nails had lengthened and hardened until they resembled claws, anchoring him firmly to the tree and giving him purchase. Soundlessly, he slipped up the trunk and onto a low branch that jutted out over the fence.

    Once again, he paused, listening intently. When he was satisfied he¡¯d gone unnoticed. He gripped the branch underneath him and lowered himself to the ground. He landed with an almost inaudible thump. Another pause.

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    Sinking slowly to his knees, Wolfgang slipped lithely into a crouch, his movements animalistic in their gracefulness. Another few metres of agile slithering and he was almost clear.

    Then, disaster.

    Wolfgang unwittingly brushed against the only dry leaf in the entire graveyard, crunching it softly under the toe of his boot. He immediately froze, knowing any movement would give him away, but the damage was already done. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum were already raising the dead, their inarticulate yelling bouncing around the empty spaces between the headstones.

    Wolfgang swore at length and rolled back towards the tree. He didn¡¯t want to give away Nyssa¡¯s hiding spot and the sturdy oak would serve as something solid to put behind him. He flowed to his feet, one movement slipping seamlessly into the next, just as the two idiots reached him. He¡¯d yet to pause for breath, continuing the barrage of bad tempered oaths even as he scrambled into a defensive position.

    Wolfgang smelled them before he saw them. They reeked of violence and sweat and festering meat.

    <hr />

    So I lied, it is tuesday night here in Aussie Land, but none the less, here is the extra update I promised a day early.

    Tune in on Friday to see if Wolfgang and Nyssa get squashed and/or eaten =)

 Chapter 7.3 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    It was fortunate that the two charging towards Wolfgang were the twins that had done most of the talking back at the markets. Out of the four ogres, the twins were the smallest. If it were the other two, he would be hard pressed getting out of this confrontation alive. As it was, he was outmatched with their two weapons to his nothing.

    Wolfgang was swearing madly. Nyssa was impressed with his creativity. Living for hundreds of years meant that he¡¯d acquired quite an extensively versatile lexicon.

    The goon with the missing front tooth - courtesy of Wolfgang¡¯s fist - attacked first. The toothless wonder swiped at Wolfgang¡¯s throat with his knife. Wolfgang leaned back, swearing all the while. The knife missed his throat by a hairsbreadth. In the same moment, Wolfgang lashed out, driving his heel into the side of his knee. As Thing One doubled over and clutched his knee, Thing Two attacked, swiping at Wolfgang¡¯s stomach. Wolfgang leaped back, almost running into the oak tree, and kicked the knife out of his attacker¡¯s hand. The ogre didn¡¯t stop for breath, immediately tackling Wolfgang and thrusting him headfirst into the tree. Wolfgang managed to twist in the ogre¡¯s grip and avoided thumping his head against the solid trunk. Instead, his shoulder took the brunt of the force.

    They struggled in the dirt for a moment and the first twin began regaining his feet. Nyssa was about to crawl out and attempt to help when Wolfgang kicked Thing two off him and rolled to his feet.

    The three faced off for a moment. Wolfgang was still weaponless, besides his sharpened teeth and claws beginning to poke out of the ends of his fingers, but he managed to disarm at least one of the goons.

    Wiry hair was beginning to grow out of Wolfgang¡¯s neck and back and his face began to take a more animalistic shape, lengthening to allow for his sharpening teeth. Wolfgang hunched his shoulders, something Nyssa had seen him do hundreds of times but now his back arched and contorted. Popping bones and the grinding of joints echoed through the graveyard. Wolfgang¡¯s deep growl rumbled through his inhuman chest.

    While Wolfgang was distracted, one of the twins attacked. He raised his knife and went to plunge it into the twisting flesh of Wolfgang¡¯s back. Without thinking Nyssa yanked at the air in front of her, pulling the knife out of the ogre¡¯s grip and sending it skittering out the cobblestones. The ogre turned instinctively to watch the knife make off down the path on its own. By the time he whipped around, Wolfgang was finished writhing around on the ground. In his placed crouched a shadowy beast that resembled a hyena except for its massive bulk and the demonic red glow of its eyes.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    The thing that used to be Wolfgang leapt at him, landing heavily on the ogre¡¯s chest and sending them both to the ground. Is thick paw swiped at the prone ogre and would have clawed his face clear off if the ogre hadn¡¯t warded off the blow with his forearm. As it were, the beast¡¯s claws did considerable damage, shearing through skin and muscle.

    The beast would have finished him off if his twin hadn¡¯t come charging in. The ogre charged at the beast, shoulder first, and sent them reeling towards the chain fence. The beast twisted, forcing the ogre to take the brunt of the hit. The ogre hit the fence hard, the beast¡¯s weight forcing him backwards and up over the waist-high fence. He landed heavily on his neck, his head bent at an odd angle.

    The beast growled at the ogre¡¯s crumpled form, inspecting for any movement. When he remained unconscious, the beast backed up into the shadows. There was a few minutes of growling and the sound of crunching bone and then Wolfgang emerged, in all his gangly teenage glory.

    He vaulted over the fence and landed lightly despite his earlier confrontation. He was glaring at something out of Nyssa¡¯s view.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have all night,¡± Wolfgang rumbled, his voice more demon than human. From the shadows, the final enemy approached. He¡¯d watched as Wolfgang decimated his companions but didn¡¯t look in the least bit worried.

    Wolfgang stalked towards him but something was wrong. He was holding his arm oddly. He must have injured his shoulder when he was thrown into the tree. Wolfgang didn¡¯t look concerned, he just looked pissed.

    The final ogre hefted a large branch, actually, it looked more like a small tree that he¡¯d ripped right out of the ground. It still had clumps of dirt clinging to its remaining roots. He hoisted the shrub over his head and brought it down on his victim, intending to split Wolfgang¡¯s head open with it. It thudded heavily against the ground. Wolfgang had simply stepped to one side.

    The ogre tried again, this time swiping at Wolfgang¡¯s chest. The ghoul ducked underneath the clumsily swung branch. The ogre, expecting solid contact was thrown off balance when his swing missed. He was off balance and vulnerable. Wolfgang launched himself out of his crouch and swung a vicious right cross at the ogre¡¯s exposed jaw. The punch had the full power of Wolfgang¡¯s legs and shoulder in it and was placed perfectly. The little cluster of nerves exposed on the ogre¡¯s jaw sent lightening messages to his tiny brain, short circuiting it.

    The ogre was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

 Chapter 7.4 Myra

    Myra:

    Myra waited in the alley with her team. She only brought a small group for the extraction. All her recon had suggested that the wild talent she needed to bring in was a young teenager, living mostly on the streets. A huge team would draw too much attention and Myra didn¡¯t want to spook the kid.

    There was no need to brief her team, she¡¯d already done so back at the compound. In the wake of Del¡¯s failure, Myra didn¡¯t want to make the same mistakes. She wasn¡¯t going to assume the target would come willingly and she planned for every possible response. If worst came to worse, she would force the kid to come with her for his own good.

    There would be no mistakes.

    She gestured for her teammate to follow her and entered the building where the kid was squatting. The rest of the team waited outside, monitoring the possible exit points just in case the kid took flight.

    The smell of mould wafted up from the rotting carpet and most of wallpaper was pealing off the walls. The hallways were narrow and filled with rubbish and old bits of wood. Myra and her backup, Oliver, picked their way through the derelict building. Myra was stepping over a door that had been taken off its hinges and propped over the walkway when Oliver touched her arm. He nodded towards a bundle of cloth, just visible through a hole punched through the plaster. It looked like just another mound of rubbish, abandoned in the corner. Then it moved.

    The dirty blanket was shivering. Myra kicked aside a bit of rubbish and entered the room. The dirty blanket turned out to be a boy of about fourteen, dressed very poorly for a brisk London afternoon. Myra recognised his dirty face from the photos in her file.

    ¡°Hey, kid,¡± Myra called from the doorway. She didn¡¯t want to frighten him so she gestured for Oliver to stay just outside the door. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    He didn¡¯t say anything. He uncurled from the tight ball he huddled in and stared at her with serious eyes. The blue of his eyes caught her off guard, bright against his dirt-streaked face and gaunt cheeks. Eyes much too serious for a child.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name, kid?¡± she asked in a low voice. No one had been able to find anything on the boy. At best guess, he was a runaway or had been abandoned and had been living on the streets ever since. He wasn¡¯t in any missing persons database or in the fostering system as far as she - or anyone else at the compound - could tell.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked eventually, his voice steady.

    ¡°My name is Myra,¡± she said in a low voice. She reach out her hand, palm down and stepped towards him slowly. The boy was frightened, and Myra thought he might bolt like a scared animal.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked again, staring at her feet as she moved. She stopped walking towards him.

    ¡°I¡¯m Myra,¡± she said again. The kid frowned.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask your name, I asked who you were.¡±

    Myra lowered her hand. This wasn¡¯t how she wanted to approach the situation. She wanted the kid safely back at the compound, tucked up in the west wing before she started explaining about the Caul. The poor thing was probably frightened enough without learning about the existence of others like him.

    Except, he didn¡¯t look very frightened. He looked as if he were studying her.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to help you,¡± Myra said, keeping her tone low and steady. ¡°My friends and I are like you.¡± She gestured at Oliver who stepped out from behind the door jam. ¡°We want to take you somewhere you can be safe.¡±

    ¡°Safe from those other things?¡± He cocked his head to the side and his blanket slipped off one shoulder. ¡°The things that normal people don''t seem to notice?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Myra walked forward again. ¡°We will keep you safe from those things and teach you how to use your abilities.¡±

    The boy stared for a moment longer, his face expressionless.

    ¡°My name is Robert.¡± He stood, the blanket slid off his thin frame and puddled on the floor. Myra smiled at him.

    ¡°Can I call you Bobby?¡± she asked. He seemed to deliberate a moment before giving her a small, sharp nod. ¡°Will you come with me, Bobby?¡± Another nod. This surprised her. She didn¡¯t expect him to be so willing, not without knowing more about where she was taking him. Then again, what could be worse than living in a damp, condemned building?

    Myra lead the way out of the building, Bobby walking behind her and Oliver taking up the rear. Oliver slipped out of his thick coat and hung it off the boy¡¯s malnourished frame. Bobby probably hadn¡¯t had a good meal in days.

    Myra gently scanned the boy, poking and prodding at his thoughts, trying to get an idea of where he came from. She wasn¡¯t having much luck. His mental defenses were very strong for someone so young. Actually, they were strong for anyone, especially someone without any training. Bobby was either very strong or very determined to keep people out. Myra tried a different tactic.

    ¡°Where do you come from, Bobby?¡± He shrugged. ¡°Do you remember your parents?¡± Another shrug. ¡°What¡¯s your last name?¡± Her only stared at her, expressionless.

    Jeez, it¡¯s harder to get information from this kid than it is from Del.

 Chapter 8.1 Nyssa

    Nyssa crawled out from between some gravestones and stared down at the three ogres sprawled out on the ground. Wolfgang was slumped against the oak tree, panting and holding his shoulder.

    ¡°That was fun,¡± Nyssa said mildly, grinning in spite of the carnage, or perhaps because of it.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t even do anything, Nyssa,¡± Wolfgang complained, shutting his eyes. He leaned his head back against the bark with a thump and slumped further down between the roots. ¡°You just crouched in the dirt and watched.¡±

    ¡°I would have just gotten in your way,¡± Nyssa pointed out, nudging the closest twin. He was coming to, so Nyssa kicked him swiftly in the temple. He fell silent again.

    ¡°See,¡± she pointed to the guy she just kicked, ¡°I¡¯m helping.¡±

    Wolfgang chuckled lowly, running his fingers through his hair. He slumped to one side and spat a glob of blood onto the grass, his own or one of the ogre''s, Nyssa didn¡¯t know. Nyssa made a face and jumped out of the line of fire of the wet glob, running directly into the fifth ogre standing behind her. She turned slowly, looking almost directly upward at his squashed looking face.

    ¡°Uh,¡± she reached towards her pocket, backing away, ¡°Wolfgang? Help?¡±

    The ogre grabbed her neck, his large hand circling it completely. Nyssa choked, gasped out an ugly swear and tried to call for Wolfgang again. She scrabbled for the knife she kept in her pocket and managed to untangle it from her coat, despite her dimming vision. She swiped at the ogre¡¯s forearm, the only part of him she could reach, and drew blood. His grip didn¡¯t falter. He only squeezed harder. She cut him again.

    Nyssa¡¯s eyes bulged and she could feel her tongue sticking out like a bad cartoon. She was probably turning blue by now. All she could think about was the irony of her dying while trying to save the life of someone technically dead. Well, the walking dead.

    Then suddenly, she had air. Her numb feet hit the ground and she collapsed to her knees so sharply that she jarred her entire body. She couldn¡¯t bring herself to care. Nyssa sucked in deep lungfuls of air, choking through her damaged throat.

    Wolfgang stood over her, the rock he used to bash the ogre¡¯s skull in still raised above his head.

    ¡°There was five,¡± he said, matter of factly.

    And that¡¯s how the cops found them.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    <hr>

    ¡°Excuse me, officer. I need to use the bathroom.¡± Nyssa went to rise but was firmly pushed back into the cold metal seat by the police officer standing behind her.

    ¡°We aren¡¯t done here yet,¡¯ said the cop sitting across from her. His mustache wriggled wildly as he talked, which disturbed Nyssa more than a little. Her face wrinkled up in disgust as she watched the hairy caterpillar on top of his lip writhe about. She was so captivated by it that she missed what the officer was saying.

    ¡°What?¡± she said, pulled her gaze away from his lip. The officer frowned at her.

    ¡°Miss Chapple, have you taken anything this evening?¡± he said, concerned. ¡°Have you been drinking?¡±

    She waved away that comment. ¡°No, I¡¯m just naturally this ¡­¡± the cop behind her moved, drawing her attention,¡± ...absent minded.¡± She smiled and blinked, bringing her attention back to the man in front of her.

    ¡°Officer Berkeley, is this going to take much longer?¡± she asked. Her serene smile looked odd underneath all the mud and gore-caked on her face. ¡°I have places to be.¡±

    ¡°I have a few more questions,¡± Berkeley said, consulting his notes. ¡°How do you know Mr. Wolfgang?¡±

    ¡°We work together,¡± she repeated boredly, rubbing at the ink staining the pads of her fingers. Being arrested was not good for the whole trying-not-to-get-noticed-by-the-Caul thing. ¡°He was walking me home and we decided to take a shortcut through the cemetery. Then we got jumped by those goons. Look, you probably already know this from interviewing Wolfgang.¡± In fact, Nyssa knew that Wolfgang told them the same story. She¡¯d plucked this account of the night¡¯s events right out of Wolfgang¡¯s head. Their stories matched perfectly.

    ¡°We just have to corroborate your stories,¡± Berkeley said calmly.

    ¡°Our stories match because it¡¯s the truth,¡± well, mostly. ¡°I doubt you can say the same thing about those morons who attacked us. They probably have four different stories.¡± They did. Nyssa could tell from his thoughts.

    ¡°One more thing,¡± Officer Berkeley said, ignoring her comments. ¡°It¡¯s concerning the illegal silver weapon found in your possession. Nyssa paled. She didn¡¯t know how she would explain her knife.

    ¡°Um,¡± she picked at her fingernails. ¡°It isn¡¯t mine. I got it off one of the guys that attacked us. Wolfgang will tell you the same thing.¡± Actually, she didn¡¯t know that he could. Wolfgang didn¡¯t know anything about her knife and he might not have seen it at all the confusion.

    ¡°We will confirm that with him. Thank you for your help Miss Chapple.¡±

    Damn, Nyssa thought frantically. They needed to be released before the cops had a chance to look any deeper into Wolfgang¡¯s identity. Stealing a dead guy¡¯s identity would not stand up to athorough investigation. If their stories didn¡¯t match perfectly, the coppers would probably keep them for more questioning.

    Nyssa poked at Wolfgang¡¯s consciousness. She could tell that Berkeley was entering the interview room they were keeping Wolfgang in.

    The knife isn¡¯t Nyssa¡¯s, she thought in his direction. She had no idea if it would work. As far as she knew, their connection only went one way, but it was worth a try. The knife is the ogre¡¯s not Nyssa¡¯s.

 Chapter 8.2 Wolfgang

    Wolfgang:

    The officer with the stupid mustache came back from questioning Nyssa. He hadn¡¯t been gone long. Whatever Nyssa had told him was either very bad or very good.

    ¡°Now, Mr. Wolfgang, I just have a few more questions for you,¡± Officer Berkeley said. He frowned at him. As far as Wolfgang could tell, the officer¡¯s face was stuck in a permanent frown. ¡°Are you sure you are alright, Mr. Wolfgang? Your skin is an odd colour.¡± The fluorescent lights brought out the grey in Wolfgang¡¯s skin as well as the red veins that took up permanent residence under his eyes.

    ¡°I told you before, I have a medical condition.¡± His medical condition just happened to be being dead. ¡°Your question, Officer?¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± the officer cleared his throat. ¡°I wanted to enquire about the knife that your friend Miss Chapple was found in possession of.¡±

    ¡°The knife isn¡¯t Nyssa¡¯s.¡± Wolfgang wasn¡¯t quite sure why he said that but it felt important. He remembered seeing her pull the knife from her pocket but he couldn¡¯t tell the cops that. Nyssa would be done for possession of a concealed weapon. ¡°She somehow got a hold of it off one of the guys who attacked me.¡±

    Berkeley grunted and jotted down a few notes. A few long moments of consulting his files and he finally looked up at Wolfgang.

    ¡°Well, everything seems to be in order.¡± Wolfgang let out a long breath. If he was kept in police custody any longer, the humans might start asking uncomfortable questions like ¡®why don¡¯t you eat?¡¯ and ¡®why does your body start to rot when you sleep?¡¯

    ¡°Am I free to go?¡± Wolfgang asked. Berkeley nodded.

    ¡°We will be in touch if we have any further questions,¡± he said, unlocking the door and allowing Wolfgang to leave. Berkeley nodded to the officer standing by Nyssa¡¯s door. He opened it to reveal Nyssa waiting patiently, leaning against the doorjamb.

    ¡°Thank you, officer,¡± she said, mock-seriously. She gave him a little salute and joined Wolfgang at the desk. Berkeley handed them plastic evidence bags full of the contents of their pockets upon arrest. Wolfgang¡¯s was mostly old looking coins, loose sticks of gum and his black armband that he wore as his uniform at work. Nyssa had her phone, a Christmas tree shaped wallet, large handfuls of confetti and a half-eaten burrito (with shiny confetti bits stuck to the jalapenos).Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Wolfgang spotted Nyssa¡¯s knife sitting behind the desk in an evidence bag. It was unmistakable with the runes etched into the metal and the bits of blood clinging to the silver blade.

    Nyssa flicked off the infected bit of jalapeno and began eating the burrito with shameless enthusiasm. While the two officers watched her devour the old burrito with disgust, Wolfgang leaned over the bench and swiped the knife, evidence bag and all. He tucked it unobtrusively in his jacket and followed Nyssa out the door.

    Nyssa screwed up the burrito paper and lobbed it towards the bin sitting outside the police station doors. She missed.

    ¡°That went as well as could be expected,¡± Wolfgang said calmly. The bit of burrito rubbish rolled and landed by his foot. ¡°Thanks for the warning about the cops, Nyssa.¡± He picked up the paper and threw it, effortlessly making the shot that Nyssa missed. Nyssa frowned at the bin.

    ¡°I told you, it doesn¡¯t work like that.¡± She kicked at a rock as they walked, pouting with her hands stuffed in her pockets. ¡°I can¡¯t see things on the fly. I have to be, like, really calm. And usually visions are so overwhelming that I have to draw them, otherwise, I can¡¯t tell what¡¯s going on and they are pretty much useless.¡±

    They walked in silence almost all the way back to the graveyard.

    ¡°Well, this is me,¡± Wolfgang said, hovering awkwardly outside his grave. ¡°I¡¯m going to have a quick nap and then I¡¯ll probably get out of the country. It was just about time to move on anyway and I don¡¯t want those cops coming back and asking any uncomfortable questions.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I know what you mean. I¡¯m supposed to be flying under the radar too. Getting arrested probably wasn¡¯t the best plan. I¡¯m going to split town in a few days.¡±

    The stared awkwardly at each other for a few moments longer. Nyssa was never good at goodbyes and Wolfgang couldn¡¯t find the words to thank her. She¡¯d saved his life and now she needed to make a whole new life. Again.

    ¡°Oh, damn,¡± Nyssa swore. ¡°I lost my favorite knife.¡± Wolfgang grinned and hunched his shoulders.

    ¡°This knife?¡± He pulled out the silver blade from underneath his jacket and spun it around. Nyssa laughed, delighted and took it from his outstretched hand.

    ¡°Uh, thanks,¡± she said.

    ¡°No problem, Nyssa.¡± He gave a little wave and watched as she walked away. ¡°Nyssa?¡± he called. She stopped and looked back at him. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    ¡°No problem, Wolfie.¡± Then she stepped into thin air and disappeared.

    <hr>

    So that''s goodbye to Wolfgang.

    For now.

    Hope you enjoyed him as much as I did.

 Chapter 8.3 Finn

    Finn:

    Finn ripped open his apartment door. Nyssa smiled sheepishly up at him through the sludge caked on her face. Finn sighed, resigned to Nyssa antics and stepped to the side to let her pass.

    ¡°What happened this time?¡± he asked, looking forlornly at the mud Nyssa was tracking down his hallway.

    ¡°There was a little incident at a graveyard involving only the smallest amounts of blood and gore.¡±

    ¡°Well, last time you were arrested so I¡¯ll mark this down as an improvement.¡± Finn helped her out of her coat and tossed the ruined rag into the laundry. Nyssa removed her hat and scarf, avoiding eye contact with her brother. Finn noticed.

    ¡°Nyssa,¡± he blocked her path to the shower, ¡°did you get arrested, again?¡± She shrugged, her eyes glued to his feet. ¡°What am I going to do with you, young lady?¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Nyssa shrugged again, hiding her smile. He sounded exactly like their mother when he got like this.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be out of your hair in a few days,¡± Nyssa offered. Finn pushed his glasses back up his nose.

    ¡°That isn¡¯t necessary, Nys,¡± Finn began gathering up her dirty clothes and stuffing them in the washing machine. ¡°You can stay here as long as you like, regardless of the havoc you wreak on my carpet. There is no way I¡¯m getting my security deposit back at this point anyway.¡± Throughout the years, Nyssa¡¯s painting and tendency towards explosive mess has ruined most of the walls and floors.

    ¡°Nah, the police incident will draw too much attention,¡± Nyssa kicked off her shoes. ¡°I¡¯ll need to be out of here in a few days, anyway.¡± Nyssa made a move towards the shower. Standing under a burning hot spray of water would feel heavenly after spending most of her night half frozen. Finn stopped her, grasping her shoulders and forcing her to look in his eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m worried, Nys,¡± he said, his boyish voice serious. ¡°You are doing an awful lot of running, even for you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Finn.¡± She waved away his concern.

    ¡°Do you even know what you are running from anymore?¡±

    <hr>

    A little bit more Finn =) The next chapter is my favourite so i''m very excited for my next few updates. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

 Chapter 9.1 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    The pleasant tinkle of glass clinking together drifted around the kitchen. Nyssa sorted through her jars of herbs, selecting a few. She was low on rosemary. She made a quick note of it on her wrist amongst other scrawled reminders. She pounded the herbs under her pestle, humming a tune she remembered from her childhood.

    She added the herb dust to the bowl holding Morea¡¯s crushed mulberries, mixing them together. The smells and comforting ritual of making this potion, the actions so practiced and familiar, lulled her into soft contemplation. Her mother would spend long mornings much like this; grinding herbs and singing while Nyssa did her homework or practiced her transformations.

    ¡°What is fennel good for?¡± Mum asked, her long, soft curls falling in dark waves down her back.

    ¡°You can hang it over your door and it will keep the witches out,¡± I said, laughing at my joke. Grandma was a witch but she never had a problem with fennel. Whenever she visited she would push tiny fennel seeds into our keyholes to keep evil from entering. Mum glared at me from over the kitchen bench, her expression looking a lot like Grandma¡¯s when I teased her by suggesting she had warts.

    ¡°It guards against dark magic,¡± I clarified. Mum nodded once, approving. Mum never missed an opportunity to test my knowledge about the People or the Real World. Whether we were tending to her herb garden or sitting at the dinner table, she liked to hold impromptu assessments.

    She reached for another jar. ¡°What is the best way to stop a Dearg-due?¡±

    ¡°Bury her and cover the grave with stones,¡± I answered immediately. It was an easy question. I was fascinated with vampires and we had covered Irish folklore last week.

    ¡°What are line-walkers?¡± she continued, smiling a challenge. I chewed on the end of my pencil while I considered my answer. Mum mixed the bowl of mush, her eyes sparking with good humor from the other side of the kitchen bench.

    ¡°They can use the ley-lines,¡± I say. Mum opened her mouth to admonish the short answer but I forestalled her. ¡°They can see where the lines connect to other places and use them to travel across long distances.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± she nodded again, ¡°and why do they have this ability?¡±

    ¡°They are descended from elves,¡± I say, returning to my drawing. ¡°The elves have the same ability to use the ley lines. That is how they travel to earth from Alfheim.¡±

    Mum leaned over my shoulder to peer at my drawing.

    ¡°That is very good, munchkin, ¡± she said, kissing the top of my hair. I couldn¡¯t tell if she was talking about my drawing or my answer but I beamed anyway. She handed me a bowl of sharp smelling purple paste.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Now go wash your hair, girl.¡±

    Her laugh followed me down the hall.

    Nyssa snapped out of her reminiscing with a jagged gasp. While daydreaming, she¡¯d allowed her control to loosen and consequently been ripped into a vision. Viciously, unexpectedly. Her breath was caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat, catching on the jagged places in her chest. The bowl Nyssa was holding clattered onto the bench, spilling its contents. Liquid splashed onto her ankle, dribbling over her jeans and soaking into her sock.

    Headless to the discomfort, Nyssa trailed her shaking fingers sharply through the cool sludge congealing on the counter top. She described a shock of dark hair, pushing the red-purple concoction over the vivid white of the bench with her fingers.

    A strong jaw, eyes in shadow, the firm curve of austere lips, familiar even though she¡¯d only seen them once.

    His face took shape; serious, earnest, intense.

    ¡°Damn it.¡±

    Finn was summoned to the kitchen by the clatter of plastic against tile and Nyssa¡¯s soft swear. He found Nyssa elbow deep in sticky paste, fingerpainting on the bench he had just cleaned.

    ¡°That¡¯s brilliant, that is,¡± he said, ire thick in his voice. Nyssa didn¡¯t respond, her stained fingers hovering above the mess she had made, retracing the smudged lines. Her eyes were unfocused and her stance stiff.

    She¡¯d seen something.

    Finn stepped gingerly over the mess dripping onto the floor and scooped up the abandoned bowl, discarding it in the sink.

    ¡°Damn,¡± he said on the back of a heaving sigh as he eyed Nyssa¡¯s artwork. He swiped through it roughly with a rag and that was enough the knock Nyssa out of her dreamy deliberation. She jerked towards the sink, scrubbing her arms under a stream of too hot water.

    Finn came up beside her, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly and dunking his rag in the water. He swore softly at the heat and twisted the faucet to cold.

    Hot and cold. Both burned her, rubbing against frazzled nerves.

    ¡°You picked a fantastic medium for your bloody artistry, Nys,¡± Finn said from his hand and knees. He was scrubbing at the puddle of sludge oozing its way across the kitchen. He wasn¡¯t having much luck, succeeding only in pushing the mess around.

    ¡°Finn, I-¡± She needed to leave.

    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡± He leaned back on his heels, his flopping mop of hair falling between his eyes and glasses. He blew it out of the way with a little ppft and a grin.

    ¡°Well, I guess this is goodb-¡± she cut herself off, and bit her lip. She was dripping soapy water all over the floor.

    Finn never liked to say goodbye. For whatever reason, he couldn''t shake the feeling that if he said those words, they would come true. Permanently. Unconsciously, Nyssa had picked up this habit. Not that she believed it was bad luck, but she didn¡¯t want to give her brother any more reason to worry.

    Finn grinned, sadness flickering behind his eyes.

    ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±

    <hr>

    A little bit of information about the Real World in here. Hope you enjoyed it.

    The next part of the chapter was the first thing I wrote in the whole book. I wrote it before I had any idea of the plot or the characters and it really set the theme for the rest of the story. It''s one of my absolute favorite parts, just because I love the interraction between Del and Finn.

 Chapter 9.2 Finn

    Fin:

    The knock shook the door in it¡¯s frame. It sounded like a policeman¡¯s knock; authoritative and mildly impatient. Finn walked swiftly down the hall, shutting the door to Nyssa¡¯s room and kicking one of her t-shirts under a seat as he went. It was barely six in the morning so he tried to act sleepy and disgruntled, as if he¡¯d been woken up by the knocking. It wasn¡¯t hard, he was sleepy and disgruntled.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± he asked, not bothering to open the door. The only response was a louder, sharper pounding against the wood. The door couldn¡¯t take much more of this. It wasn¡¯t exactly new and from what he understood about the People, a flimsy wooden barrier wouldn¡¯t contain one of them for long. Whatever was on the other side was coming in and there was nothing Finn could do to stop it.

    Finn cracked open the door as much as he could while keeping the chain lock firmly in it¡¯s slider. He peered out. All he could make out was a shock of neat, dark hair against pale skin. Whatever it was looked humanoid at least. Finn wasn¡¯t sure that made much difference. It could probably slaughter him before he could do much more than blink.

    ¡°Let me in, Finn.¡± The thing outside the door knew his name.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, visiting hours are between four and six.¡± The smart ass comment slipped out before Finn could wonder whether or not sassing a potentially insane mythical creature was wise.

    ¡°Where is the girl?¡± Damn, Nyssa was right. He was here for her.

    ¡°I¡¯m flattered that you think I am that popular with the ladies, but unfortunately, it¡¯s just me at the moment.¡± Finn leaned against the wall to the left of the door, out of the way of the man¡¯s line of fire if he did make it through. From that position, he could see whoever it was through the crack between door and the door jam.

    ¡°Also, who the hell are you?¡± It seemed a valid question under the circumstances.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The man, if you could call him that, let out a grunt, equal parts irritation and impatience. Finn could only see a vague outline through the gap but he saw him raise one fist and bring it down smartly on the point where the chain was fixed to the door. The chain broke with a small ping and the door swung open, banging sharply against the door stop.

    ¡°Bloody hell,¡± Finn swore. He let off a few more uncomplimentary - and impressively creative - phrases.

    Before the door could swing close, the dark haired man stepped into Finn¡¯s apartment and breezed right past him rolling his eyes heavenward as he went. The breaking and entering took about three seconds and was done with such ease that Finn figured the tall stranger had been taking it easy on him.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Finn trailed after the man who was now methodically going through all the rooms in the small apartment, ¡°that was awesome, but did you really need to break my door?¡± The stranger made his way to the kitchen.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t let me in,¡± his intruder pointed out in a reasonable tone.

    ¡°Fair enough.¡± The dark stranger crouched by a chair and pulled out the shirt Finn kicked there earlier. ¡°Wait, not fair enough; what the hell are you doing in my apartment?¡± He only grunted and presented Finn with his broad back disdainfully. He pressed the t-shirt against his face, inhaling deeply.

    ¡°Dude,¡± Finn whispered, slightly awed, ¡°that¡¯s so weird.¡± Bewildered by the alien actions of the stranger, it struck Finn that he was actually standing in a room with something that wasn¡¯t even human. His brain did an odd sideways shudder away from the thought.

    The man was now searching the pantry, as if Nyssa would be crouched between the beans and rice. Finn¡¯s weak protests continued to be largely ignored. The stranger had found the large plastic mixing bowl discarded in the sink and was fixating on it, tuning Finn out entirely.

    <hr>

    So you get to see a little bit more of Finn''s character here. You can imagine what he and Nyssa were like growing up. They must have given their mother hell with their smartassed comments. Originally Finn wasn''t very sarcastic or smart assed but then came the ''visiting hours are between four and six'' comment and I realised that growing up with Nyssa, Finn would have to have developed are serious sense of humor to deal with her antics. Anyway, enjoy.

    Next chaper is Del, and you get to see a little bit more about how the Caul''s gifts work. I go much more in depth about mind reading and it is lots of fun.

 Chapter 9.3 Del

    Del:

    The human boy was irritating. Del had no idea how People put up with ordinary humans. He knew the tousle-haired idiot was a human before he even went into the pokey little apartment. The stench of his humanness perforated the entire building and the boy practically oozed mundanity from his pores.

    Del brushed past him, barely even registering his tedious questions. He caught a waft of tangy sweetness. It was the girl¡¯s scent. She was here, or at least, she had been. He couldn''t sense anyone else in the apartment, but she had evaded him before. Easily. It was best that he be thorough and search every room.

    He headed towards the kitchen where the berry-sweet smell was strongest. It didn¡¯t take long for him to find the source of the scent. What was left of the goupy purple-red paste was the exact shade as the girl¡¯s hair and had the same pungent tang. Del rubbed it between his fingers and watched as it stained his skin. His mouth watered as that now familiar scent trickled through his nose and coated his tongue with its syrupy tartness.

    Fixated as he was on the paste, it took him a few moments to notice the scrubbed bench and counter top. Del silently kicked himself for losing focus. He should have noted that the moment he entered the room. The rest of the kitchen was tolerably clean, but a small section of counter and the cabinets and floor beneath it had recently been scoured with bleach. She must have spilled the berry concoction.

    The patch of clean extended across the linoleum floor a little ways, towards a closed door. She¡¯d tracked the mess across the kitchen when she stepped in it. Del made a beeline to the closed door.

    ¡°Wait, you can''t go in there,¡± said the human. Del ignored him. The door was locked but with one vicious twist of the handle, Del was in.

    The room was not what he expected. Tiny footprints trailed back and forth around the room. The girl had stepped in the berry mixture with her left foot and had stained the carpet with faint purple tracks. There was a small bed tucked in the corner furthest away from the door. The sheet were rumpled at the foot of the bed, the pillows spewed about haphazardly. Del got a brief impression of the girl kicking the blankets off her and stretching luxuriously in the light of morning. He shoved the vision aside and focused on the rest of the room.

    One wall was mostly taken up by a large canvas that had been propped against it. The painting looked half finished and the drip mat tucked underneath it was littered with paint pots and unused brushes. He stepped closer, brushing two fingers against the raised streaks of paint. She had stood here mere hours before. Del¡¯s eyes closed as his fingers followed the swirling lines of paint. He could hear the tune she had been breathlessly humming. The smell of wet paint stung his nose and he could feel its liquid texture beneath his fingers.

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch that,¡± said the human boy from the doorway. Del made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat. His concentration was broken. He could no longer hear the sweet humming and the paint was powdery and dry under his hand. He glared at the source of his distraction who was now standing between Del and the bed, looking completely unaffected by his murderous glare.

    ¡°I thought you said you didn¡¯t have any girls here,¡± Del said.

    ¡°I have a girlfriend, so what?¡± The boy flushed a little and crossed his arms. Del raised his eyebrows at him. ¡°I don¡¯t see how this is any of your business, stranger who has broken into my house.¡± Finn didn¡¯t sound particularly distressed which earned Del¡¯s grudging respect.

    Del spied a small scrap of paper on the bedside table. He tried to get to it but Finn gallantly blocked his path. Del rolled his eyes again - his retina were going detach if he spent much more time with this irritating human - and pushed Finn down firmly by his shoulders. Finn hit the bed hard enough to clack his teeth together and paled at the strength Del displayed in that small exertion.

    The paper Del snatched up was penned in a flowing script with neat little flourishes at the end of each word. The soft, feminine writing didn¡¯t match its blunt contents nor the snarky woman who wrote them.

    To my dearest stalker,

    When you get sick of finding only empty rooms, I will accept your surrender with joy. There is beer in the fridge, help yourself.

    The letter was signed with a purple fingerprint. The perfect oval stain told him two things; one, she knew how he had tracked her down and two, she had no intention of repeating her mistake. Far from being angered by the girl¡¯s cheek, Del was charmed. She was resourceful and skilled and Del thrived on the challenge of it.

    He turned his attention to the boy. He was not going to get any clues of the girl¡¯s whereabouts from the room but maybe the boy would let something slip.

    ¡°Where is she?¡± Del had never been accused of being tactful. Finn ignored the question.

    ¡°What do you want with Nyssa?¡± he demanded instead. So the girl¡¯s name was Nyssa. The boy seemed to realise his mistake and went ashened. He sat on his hands nervously and pressed his lips together, as if that would prevent him from letting any more secrets slip.

    ¡°I want to help her.¡± Del allowed a small amount of his sincerity to leak into his words. The human boy remained unconvinced, re-crossing his arms and pouting. ¡°I¡¯m family,¡± Del added. He wasn¡¯t technically related to the girl but the oversimplification would help the human understand.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lie,¡± Finn stood. ¡°Nyssa¡¯s kin abandoned her when her mother died.¡±

    Del was surprised at how much the human understood about the People. He was obviously very close to the girl if she had confided such secrets with him. Finn¡¯s lack of surprise or apprehension at Del¡¯s rough entry now made sense.

    ¡°I am not of her mother¡¯s kin,¡± Del explained calmly, ¡°I¡¯m of her father¡¯s. I have come to take her home.¡± Del¡¯s soothing words did not have the desired effect on Finn who turned a bright, ugly red, his wire glasses sliding down his nose.

    ¡°She has a home.¡¯

    Del wasn¡¯t going to get anywhere with this line of questioning. He stepped closer to the boy, shoving him easily back down onto the bed.

    ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± Finn protested, slapping Del¡¯s hands away. Del ignored him and placed two fingers on the human¡¯s forehead. He loosened the tight ball of his consciousness and stretched a thin tendril towards the boy. He braced himself for the onslaught of unfiltered thoughts and feelings that was the norm but was surprised at resistance he encountered. Finn had an unexpected amount of control over his mind, probably honed by sharing sharing a home with a psychic.

    However, Finn had not encountered a psychic of Del¡¯s skill. The human¡¯s practice against Nyssa¡¯s raw, untrained power prepared him to resist Del¡¯s targeted mental assault about as much as swimming laps prepares one for a tsunami.

    Del tightened his control, feeding more power into the trickle that was now probing Finn¡¯s mental defence. It didn¡¯t take long to find a weakness. Del slipped past feeble defences and allowed his awareness to sink into the soft tissue of Finn¡¯s brain. The static buzz of foreign thoughts filled Del¡¯s skull; like white noise or distant traffic.

    ¡°You have a bond,¡± Del said with some surprise. Del could sense the connection Nyssa and Finn had, anchored unobtrusively to a deep corner of the boy¡¯s mind. Nyssa had connected so often with him, had brushed her awareness through his mind so frequently, that they had forged a permanent connection.

    ¡°So?¡± Finn said as he tried to dislodge Del¡¯s fingers from his forehead. His efforts were in vain, Del was unyielding.

    Del¡¯s sharpened his concentration, and restricted his reach. His awareness no longer saturated every brain cell, but pooled around Finn¡¯s memories of the girl, probing experimentally. There was a lot more there then Del expected.

    A flash of wide green eyes surrounded by a frizzy halo of dark hair. She was young, no more than fifteen. Brief impressions flittered past; the wild thrill of unrestrained joy, a small hand clenched in his sweaty fist, laughter, hushed whispers and the oppressive stuffiness of huddling beneath blankets. He tasted salty tears and his nose filled with the sharp, tangy-sweet scent that was uniquely Nyssa. Years of memories assaulted him. Almost as soon as one memory flared behind his eyes, it was shove aside by another.

    Del gritted his teeth and suppressed the urge to pull away from the onslaught. Instead he eased back and filtered out the old emotions.

    Almost immediately it wielded results. He grasped onto a recent memory of the girl, barely a few days old. Music filled his ears. She was singing.

    Terribly.

    Nyssa stood in front of me, dancing slightly to the fast-paced guitar riff blaring from a radio. Sliding between the sink and stove in her socks, she nudged whatever was cook in a pan with her spatula and the sharp scent of hot cheese washed over me.

    ¡°You¡¯re burning it, Nyssa,¡± I said. No, Finn said.

    ¡°Oh shush, it¡¯s not burning, I¡¯m adding flavor!¡± Nyssa declared, brandishing the spatula like a weapon. Her eyes sparkled with humor but she did take the pan off the heat. I laughed and comfortable amusement crawled down my spine and settled in my stomach.

    Del was tempted to stay; to watch as Nyssa sung along to the music, making up her own words and skipping bits she didn''t know. He wanted to soak up Finn¡¯s emotions; old and as familiar to the boy as well-worn boots but so foreign to Del.

    Del shook his head and pulled away from the memory, slightly ashamed at witnessing the intimate moment.

    He flicked through Finn¡¯s thoughts again, discarding those without Nyssa and pausing only long enough over the recent memories of meals being eaten and long nights spent watching TV to determine if they were useful.

    Finally he found what he was looking for.

    ¡°Where are you going to go?¡± I asked, adjusting my glasses. Nyssa rushed around her room, shoving things into her backpack.

    ¡°I don''t know, somewhere fun,¡± she said. ¡°I hear Australia is really nice this time of year.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you need to go?¡± I could hear the whine in my voice but I didn¡¯t care. ¡°You said you had a few days.¡±

    ¡°I know what I said, Finn.¡± She stopped her packing and stepped close to me. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she sighed, her breath heating the patch of my shirt that her nose was pressed to. ¡°Turns out Mr. Teen Angst is more resourceful than I gave him credit for. He will be here by morning.¡±

    I returned her loose embrace. This news had me worried and Nyssa sensed my distress.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about him,¡± she said, grinning up at me. ¡°As far as I can tell, he¡¯s after me for some noble reason. He¡¯s the type that believes that he can save the world single handedly. He will learn soon enough that I can take care of myself.¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± I said, unconvinced, ¡°but remember, Mum¡¯s birthday is coming up and you promised you would be there. She will be disappointed if you miss it.¡±

    Nyssa pulled away and gave me a mock offended look.

    ¡°I have never missed her birthday and I don''t intend to start just because some guy with a superman complex wants to ¡®save¡¯ me from a life of independence.¡±

    I laughed. ¡°Okay, well bring me back a boomerang or something, and remember to call!¡± I planted a kiss on her forehead. ¡°I¡¯ll see you when I do.¡±

    Del pulled away, slowly untangling his mind from the boy¡¯s. He¡¯d gotten what he needed.

    Del turned on his heel and headed for the door.

    Girlfriend, my ass, he thought to himself darkly.

    ¡°Hey,¡± yelled Finn who was still sitting on the bed. ¡°Where are you going?¡±

    Del ignored him. He had to get back to the compound, he had a lot of work to do.

    <hr>

    Very long one for you. I hope you enjoyed it.

 Chapter 10.1 Del

    Del:

    ¡°Cornwall,¡± Del said. Riordan didn''t look up from his paperwork. The stacks of paper choking his desk were taller than ever. With the new influx of wild talents popping up all over the UK, Riordan was not taking a holiday anytime soon.

    ¡°The human boy, Finnikin, is from Cornwall,¡± Del elaborated when Riordan didn¡¯t respond. ¡°There is some suggestion that the family adopted Nyssa when she was younger, though the records are suspiciously brief on the subject. There is no mention of a name, age or even the gender of the adoptee. Though I think it is safe assume that Nyssa was the child.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pulling you from the assignment,¡± Riordan said offhandedly. Del froze.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°It has been months,¡± Riordan continued bluntly. ¡°This was supposed to be a straightforward extraction but there has been too many unnecessary complications. I¡¯m turning this mission over to someone more experienced.¡±

    Del started to talk, hesitated and then fell silent. There was nothing he could say to defend himself, everything Riordan had pointed out was true. Irritation swelled in the back of his throat but he shoved it down firmly.

    ¡°Who is taking over the mission?¡± Del asked after a moment. As if summoned by the question, there was a knock at the door.

    ¡°Come in, Vaughn,¡± Riordan called. A tall blonde man swaggered in, grinning. Del turned to face Vaughn, his face blank. Vaughn was the obvious choice. He knew the ins and outs of the mission. Del had been reporting to him from the beginning.

    ¡°Her adopted mother, Connie, has a birthday is in less than six weeks,¡± Del said, his face impassive. ¡°I have reason to believe she will be in Cornwall for the event.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for your help, boy.¡± Vaughn¡¯s grin didn¡¯t falter. ¡°But I will take it from here.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Six weeks later:

    Nyssa¡¯s house was very ordinary. Del wasn¡¯t sure what he expected, but it wasn¡¯t the neat flower gardens and quaint stone walls. Nyssa¡¯s tattered jeans and purple hair did not reflect her upbringing in this normal looking English cottage. Vaughn seemed to be thinking along similar lines.

    ¡°Who know this would be the home of a freak,¡± he sneered. He was apparently of the opinion that race mixing was undesirable. Nyssa¡¯s jinn and witch blood wouldn''t win her any favors amongst a lot of the Caul. Del tried to ignore the inexplicable irritation Vaughn¡¯s insult caused. He hardly knew the girl, who should he feel so defensive?

    ¡°Sir,¡± Del said, dryly, ¡°with all due respect, perhaps you should keep your opinions to yourself until after the extraction. There is a good chance someone from the house will hear you.¡±

    Vaughn sent Del a nasty look through the flop of blond hair hanging over his forehead but he fell silent.

    They watched for a few minutes more. The plan was to surround the seaside cottage while Vaughn and Del entered and retrieved the girl. Vaughn gestured for team two to take their positions at the back of the property. Team one would stay just outside the front wall in case Nyssa fled. Del moved to enter the home but Vaughn stopped him.

    ¡°Change of plans, boy,¡± he said with a sneer. ¡°You stay here. Sebastian¡¯s coming with me.¡± Vaughn nodded towards the muscular man crouched next to him. Del flushed with anger. He suspected Vaughn would do something like this. The older man had sneered at Del¡¯s efforts in taking the girl into custody. He¡¯d condescendingly assured Riordan that he, the more experienced Caul operative, would complete the mission quickly. For the last six weeks, Vaughn had attempted to track down the girl with no luck. She had completely disappeared. Eventually, Vaughn had agreed upon an ambush based upon Del¡¯s findings. It wasn¡¯t surprising that Vaughn wanted to take control of the extraction even though he did none of the work tracking down Nyssa¡¯s family.

    That didn¡¯t bother Del as much as the horrible feeling he had that Vaughn would make a mistake. Vaughn had no respect for Nyssa¡¯s ingenuity and Del doubted he would be prepared for her willfulness and stubborn refusal to do what is best for her. The only way Nyssa would agree to go with them is if it were her idea. She was the sort of girl to refuse, just because she was told she had to. The scary thing was that she was perfectly capable of carrying out this refusal and escaping.

    And Del doubted that they would find her again.

    <hr>

    Not totally happy with the breakdown of this chapter in terms of POVs. Might switch things around later on. if you have any suggestions let me know.

 Chapter 10.2 Vaughn

    Vaughn:

    The door was unlocked. Vaughn couldn¡¯t believe how easy it was just to walk into the small cottage. It seemed that Del had exaggerated the girl¡¯s street smarts. This would be easier than he expected.

    Vaughn, with the comforting bulk of Sebastian at his back, marched into the main living area of the small home. The laughter and chattering coming from the room cut off abruptly when the two men charged in.

    Vaughn met Nyssa¡¯s eyes over the huge dining table. The girl slumped in a high backed chair, one leg slung over the armrest. She froze mid-laugh, like a deer in the headlights. Vaughn smiled triumphantly. There was nowhere for the girl to go. She was trapped and she knew it.

    ¡°So I was thinking that we-¡± the boy, Finn, broke off mid sentence as he entered the dining room and saw the two intruders. His reaction was an unexpected one. He glared at his adopted sister accusingly.

    ¡°What the hell, Nyssa?¡± Finn snapped. The girl in question held up her hands in surrender.

    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault,¡± she insisted. ¡°I don''t see everything, you know.¡± Finn crossed his arms, frowning darkly.

    ¡°You have been drinking coffee again haven''t you,¡± he accused. Nyssa leaped from her chair.

    ¡°I resent the implication that my caffeine habits are to blame in this situation,¡± she almost yelled. ¡°You probably let something slip when Del stormed your apartment. Now mum¡¯s birthday is ruined and I blame you.¡± Finn flushed angrily, his face turning bright red.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t my fault.¡±

    ¡°I didn''t say it was your fault. I said I was blaming you.¡±

    ¡°You have nothing to worry about, Finn,¡± Finn mocked in a high-pitched voice, wiggling his hips femininely. ¡°I can take care of myself, Finn.¡± Nyssa opened her mouth to retaliate when an older woman, sitting unobtrusively in a corner, cleared her throat.

    ¡°Children,¡± she chided, putting a stop to their squabbling, ¡°we have guests.¡± She had the same mousy brown hair at Finn, tucked into a neat coif at the base of her neck. This was probably their mother, Connie.

    Vaughn, attempting to take control of the situation took a seat at the head of the table, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

    ¡°There is nowhere for you to go, Nyssa,¡± he said with a triumphant grin. Nyssa glared at him.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°You are ruining my mother¡¯s birthday,¡± she accused. Vaughn only grinned wider.

    ¡°Nyssa,¡± the older woman admonished. ¡°Don''t be so rude.¡± She turned to Vaughn. ¡°Please, make yourself at home. Would you like some tea?¡±

    ¡°Mum! Don''t offer tea,¡± Finn complained.

    ¡°Nonsense, just because they are here to take my baby away,¡± her voice became shaky and she grasped Nyssa¡¯s shoulders, ¡°that is no reason not to be polite.¡± Nyssa pulled a sour face.

    ¡°That is alright, ma''am,¡± Sebastian said. ¡°We don¡¯t need tea.¡± The older lady turned to the two men and began to talk in an unsteady voice.

    ¡°Please,¡± she grasped her hands in front of her, ¡°may I have a few minutes to say goodbye to my daughter? It is my birthday after all.¡± Sebastian turned to Vaughn who just nodded magnanimously. Nyssa¡¯s mother immediately brightened.

    ¡°Fantastic! I¡¯ll put a pot of tea on.¡± She bustled off the kitchen before Vaughn could argue.

    ¡°I¡¯ll help, mum.¡± Nyssa began to rise from her seat but Vaughn stopped her with a sharp shake of his head.

    ¡°You. Stay,¡± he said. Nyssa glared but sat back down.

    There were a few long minutes where the two groups sat at either side of the table in silence. Nyssa glowered at Vaughn while he lounged in his chair, grinning as if this were all his idea.

    Eventually, Connie returned with a tray of tea cups. She placed one in front of each of them, chattering good-naturedly. She kept up this one-sided conversation as she poured the tea, pinching Nyssa¡¯s cheek as she went.

    Vaughn and Sebastian made no move to drink the tea, not until Connie shot them a motherly glare. Sebastian immediately lifted the cup to his lips, careful not to insult the woman. Vaughn just shrugged and took a disdainful glup.

    ¡°I don''t know why Del had so much trouble finding you, Nyssa,¡± Vaughn said. He placed the teacup back in its saucer with a sharp clink, spilling the tea a bit.

    ¡°We both know it was Del that tracked me here,¡± Nyssa said, smiling into her tea, ¡°not you.¡±

    Vaughn opened his mouth, a witty retort ready. All that came out was a raspy croak. He frowned at his cup.

    ¡°Sir, I do not dare insult you, but my mother taught me well,¡± Nyssa recited calmly, stirring her tea. ¡°Food of Fey or foreign magic may be laced with Charm or Spell.¡±

    Sebastian¡¯s head slowly lolled forwards until his chin rested against his chest. Vaughn tried to rise but his legs were not cooperating. His limbs were turning to jelly, responding clumsily when he attempted to stand.

    ¡°Now sweetpea,¡± said Connie, unconcerned about the two men rapidly losing consciousness on her dining room floor. ¡°Please remember to call.¡±

    Vaughn slumped forward, his head thumping against the table. He tried to yell but his tongue was thick and clumsy. He only managed a strangled grunt. As his vision faded, he was vaguely aware of the sound of china breaking from the other end of the table and a young male voice swearing.

    ¡°Don''t be silly, Finn dear. I didn''t drug your tea.¡±

    Then everything went dim.

    <hr>

    I love Connie. She is probably the only person who could have dealt with a young Nyssa who was just coming into her abilities and who had just lost her mother. I just adore how she is stereotypically maternal and at the same time, totally bad ass. I can see her caring for a scare little Nyssa who misses her mother, but also no blinking an eye as Nyssa predicts the cat''s death.

 Chapter 11.1 Nyssa

    Two months later:

    Nyssa:

    The breeze whipped Nyssa¡¯s frizzy locks around her face. She was sitting at the tip of a New York skyscraper watching the world move beneath her. She loved being high up. The world was empty of sensation, save for the cool, crisp feel of the air and the sunlight threading through her hair. She was far away from the hum of human existence and the constant pressure of useless musings.

    She glanced at her watch. It was well past time to leave. Nyssa had to get back to work. She hopped off the building ledge and retrieved her bike. Heaving it over the edge of the building, Nyssa let her bike dangle for a moment before dropping it. It fell through the air for a metre or so before disappearing.

    Nyssa slung her bag over one shoulder, hopped back up onto the ledge and peered downwards. She hesitated for a moment, not because of the height, but because this shortcut was particularly tricky. It only went in one direction and you had to enter at exactly the right angle or you could end up in the middle of a Canadian lake.

    She shuffled off the edge and freefalled for a few seconds. Before she could get the breath to scream, she landed heavily on the ground, thumping to her knees. The grass tickled her palms where she¡¯d stopped herself face planting in the dirt.

    Nyssa glanced around, checking to see if anyone had spotted her falling out of the sky. This part of the park was usually deserted, but normal humans had, on occasion, spotted her passing through thin air.

    She pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her messenger bag and checked where her next delivery was. She consulted her wrist where she a scribbled reminders of the best routes to take through the ley lines.

    She only had three more deliveries to make before she could call it a day.

    -------

    ¡°Nyssa, are you alrigh¡¯, lass?¡± Nyssa blinked. She found herself looking into a pair of worried brown eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Glen,¡± she said to the office worker behind the desk. ¡°What were you saying?¡±

    Glen was one of Nyssa¡¯s repeat customers. She¡¯d been working in Scotland as a bike messenger for almost two months now, keeping a low profile. Glen was human, as was her boss and her roommates. She¡¯d had almost no contact with the People since the incident at her mother¡¯s house.

    ¡°-and I was wonderin¡¯ if you were maybe in¡¯erested in goin¡¯ to coffee with-Nyssa?¡± Glen cut himself off and shook her shoulder gently. Nyssa shook her head, trying to clear it.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Glen.¡± She tried to smile and the sloppily dressed man. Glen was sweet, but he wasn¡¯t very confident or well put together. Nyssa had never seen him in shoes that actually matched his suit. ¡°I¡¯m actually not feeling too great. Could you sign for this package? I think I may head home early.¡±

    ¡°O¡¯course, lass.¡± He quickly signed, frowning at Nyssa¡¯s pale features. ¡°You have nae been yourself all week.¡±

    Nyssa barely paused to thank him, shooting him a shaky smile. She stumbled out into the cold, reaching for her bike desperately. Glen was right, she had been feeling off all week. Nyssa found herself drifting off in the middle of conversations and barely talking, which was very unlike her. She also hadn¡¯t so much as doodled despite the almost constant sensation of itchy fingers. Every time she sat down to draw or paint, she would just stare at the blank canvas, completely uninspired.

    A wave of dizziness hit her, but she mounted her bike anyway and pushed off. She wobbled for a moment but miraculously remained upright.

    She needed to get home.

    She needed to paint.

    She stumbled off her bike when she rounded the next corner, stopping to throw up in some unfortunate person¡¯s petunias. It made her feel a bit better. The dizziness subsided enough so that she could focus on the directions she scribbled on her wrist. She set off again.

    Eventually, she made it back to the small home she shared with two other roommates. Discarding her bike in the street, Nyssa pushed open the gate to her small cottage. She stumbled on the way through, slicing her hand on the rusty latch. Instead of making her nausea worse, the sight of blood seemed to sharpen her thoughts. The world focused as if she twisted the lens of a camera. She walked calmly through the garden. As she approached the porch, the door opened of its own accord, creaking softly. She didn¡¯t bother closing it.

    Nyssa walked sedately through the small cottage, making her way to her tiny room. There, she pulled a sheet of paper off her easel and spread it over the floor. When the smell of wet paint hit her, the frantic need to paint overwhelmed her again. She dipped her fingers into the pots, smearing paint and her own blood over the paper with her hands.

    She pushed the dark paint across the paper with her thumbs, reveling in the feeling of the fibers soaking up the red of the paint and her blood. She etched out flames with her fingernails, carving great swaths of destruction through the center of the paper. Among the flames danced faces, most were unfamiliar to her but one stood out.

    Del.

    Pain twisted his features into something ugly and pitiful. He clawed at the flames licking at his clothes and singeing his flesh.

    Overshadowing this scene of carnage, Nyssa painted a house with thick, bold lines. It¡¯s tall walls, once proud and strong, were crumbling. Each room was unraveling, twisting and ripping at the seams. It was not being devoured by flames, it was tearing itself apart.

    Nyssa fell backward, pulling away from the widening puddle of paint soaking into the paper and the carpet.

    She was tired like she always was after a big vision. Lately, she¡¯d been getting more and more of them. She didn¡¯t even bother washing the paint off her hands and arms. She just curled up in a ball against the wall and fell asleep.

    <hr>

    I''ve updated a few times this week but the next bit will be quite short so it kind of evens itself out. Hope you enjoy!

 Chapter 11.2 Elsie

    Elsie:

    Elsie lugged the shopping from her small car towards the house. Nyssa would be home by now. She usually finished her deliveries really quickly. Elsie had gotten her the job as a bike courier at the company which she worked as a receptionist. Everyone at the office was impressed by Nyssa¡¯s work ethic.

    Elsie approached her little cottage and immediately was worried. Both the gate and door swung wide open and Nyssa¡¯s bike was just left out on the street.

    ¡°Nyssa?¡± Elsie called. There was no response. She stowed the groceries on the kitchen bench and hurried to the back of the property where Nyssa tiny room was. ¡°Nyssa!¡±

    Nyssa lay curled up in a ball, her arms bright red. For a second, Elsie thought it was blood, but then she spotted the grisly painting spread out on the floor underneath layers of paint.

    ¡°Nyssa, lass?¡± Elsie crouched next to Nyssa, shaking her shoulder gently. When that didn¡¯t work, she jerked her roughly.

    ¡°Elsie?¡± Nyssa blinked and shook her head.

    ¡°Ooch, lass. Ye look awfly peely wally.¡±

    Nyssa blinked again. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Yer pale, lass.¡± Nyssa didn¡¯t always understand most of what Elsie said. The girl had a thick scottish brogue that could put the toughest old Scotsman to shame.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to do this to you, Elsie, but I have to go.¡± Nyssa struggled to stand. Elsie grabbed one of her arms and helped heave her to her feet.

    ¡°A dinnae onerstaun,¡± Elsie said. ¡°Go whaur?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t explain, but I probably won''t be coming back.¡± Nyssa began grabbing her things out of draws and shoving them in suitcases. Lately, this was how she¡¯d been leaving all the places she lived.

    ¡°Dinnae fash yersel, lassie.¡± Elsie started helping her pack. ¡°If ye need tae go, ye go. A onerstaun.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Elsie.¡± Nyssa gave her a one arm hug and kissed her on the cheek. Elsie wrinkled her nose at the dried paint that was flaking off Nyssa.

    ¡°Per¡¯aps ye shood have a bit oo a wash, lass.¡± Nyssa laughed and looked down at her ruined clothes and the paint clinging to her body and hair.

    ¡°Yeah, you¡¯re probably right.¡± Nyssa gave her a shaky smile and another hug. This time she clung to the small girl a little longer than necessary. Elsie let her, patting her back comfortingly.

    ¡°Thanks, Elsie.¡±

    ¡°Dinnae fash yersel,¡± Elsie said with a half smile. Nyssa snagged a towel and disappeared into the bathroom. ¡°Poor lass.¡±

    <hr>

    Told you, short.

    I love Elsie, she is so cute =) To prep myself for this chapter, I watched a lot of Kevin Bridges'' stand up, so I hope it came off authentic. Any Scottish people reading this, I would appreciate your feedback!Actually, since this story is set primarily in England, I would appreciate feedback from anyone living in that part of the would. I''m Australian myself, but I have done my best to make the slang as natural as possible (which sometimes involves a lot of googling to see if British people use couch or sofa or lounge etc.).

    Actually, since this story is set primarily in England, I would appreciate feedback from anyone living in that part of the would. I''m Australian myself, but I have done my best to make the slang as natural as possible (which sometimes involves a lot of googling to see if British people use couch or sofa or lounge etc.). I''ve been watching a tonne of BritishTV shows/movies to try and get the accent down and talked to a lot of people who have visited England but that is not the same as speaking to an Englishman, so your help would be great. Please and thank you.

 Chapter 11.3 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    Steam fogged the mirror, clouding and distorting Nyssa¡¯s face. She slicked back her hair and swiped her damp hand over the cool mirror. Wide green eyes blinked back at her. Without her usual halo of frizzy locks, her face looked tiny and gaunt, making her eyes seem cartoonishly big.

    She was thinner.

    Over the last week or so, she hadn¡¯t had much of an appetite. Her collarbones jutted out and her face was scary thin. She pressed her forehead against the mirror, the cool glass felt good against her fevered face.

    ¡°Mum?¡± she whispered. Her breath fogged up the glass again. ¡°Mum? What do I do?¡±

    A flash of yellow made Nyssa step back.

    Her reflection was no longer that of a gawky teenager. Soft green eyes crinkled gently beneath neatly curling locks. Her mother¡¯s hair always behaved, no matter the humidity. She was wearing the same yellow sundress she wore the day she died.

    ¡°Mum?¡± Nyssa pressed her palm against the glass, her mother¡¯s reflection copied her action. She could almost feel the warm pressure of her hand.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to do. Something bad is going to happen. I don¡¯t know if I can stop it.¡±

    Her mother smiled gently. Her face hadn''t changed in eight years. She had the same soft laugh lines around her mouth, the same rosebud lips and heart-shaped face.

    Nyssa had that face.

    Now that she was older, the resemblance was clear. Green eyes, olive skin. Nyssa¡¯s nose turned up a little more at the end and she could never get her hair to stay as flat but they even smiled the same.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°I have spent so long running away, I don''t know if I can stop.¡±

    Nyssa rubbed her hands over her face. For a second, her own reflection blinked back at her, eyes filling with unshed tears. But then her mother¡¯s warm smile was back, gently encouraging her.

    ¡°Mum, I¡¯m scared.¡±

    Her expression didn¡¯t waver. Green eyes reassuring and rosebud smile confident that she would find her way. She used to look at Nyssa like that all the time. Always so sure that she would find the right path on her own.

    Nyssa knew the right path, she just needed the confidence to take it. Nyssa stared at the cut on her palm for a few seconds. It had mostly scabbed over but it pulled at her skin uncomfortably. She clenched her fist, suppressing a wince.

    She had to go warn Del.

    But she really didn¡¯t want to.

    Her mother smiled again, proud but sad. Nyssa blinked back tears. She longed for these short moments when she could see her mother again. Sometimes it was a soft whisper in that place between waking and sleep or a wisp of perfume or her warm chuckle echoing through the empty night.

    But she was always left aching and empty and somehow she missed her mother more when she left again.

    ¡°Mum, I-¡± Her mother¡¯s sad smile faded, replaced with a grimace. A trickle of blood flowed from her nose, staining her rosebud mouth red. Soft curls dampened with more dripping blood and her sundress tore and dirtied. Nyssa cried out, throwing her hands up to ward off the familiar sight of her mother screaming, though no sound echoed in the small bathroom.

    Nyssa stumbled back a few steps, tripping over her own feet and crying out but only her own terrified face stared back at her. Her face was drawn and pale and dark strands of hair stuck to her cheeks.

    ¡°Nyssa, are ye alrigh¡¯?¡± Elsie called through the bathroom door.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Elsie.¡± Nyssa shook the haunting image out of her head and took a deep, shuddering breath.¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she said again like she was trying to convince herself.

    <hr>

    So you get to see a little bit more about Nyssa''s past. Let me know what you think.

 Chapter 12.1 Del

    Del:

    Del left the compound in a foul mood. It had been weeks since he had heard anything about the girl and Riordan was growing impatient. Del was just leaving a meeting with the compound director. Riordan had blasted Del about his failure for almost a quarter of an hour, conveniently overlooking the fact that Del wasn¡¯t even present during most of the last extraction attempt, nor was he in charge of the mission.

    Del had taken the berating on the chin, standing stoically behind the chair Riordan had offered him. This only seemed to infuriate the Director who got the impression that Del was not taking the assignment seriously. After all, Myra¡¯s extraction had gone practically textbook perfect and Del had yet to replicate such success after months of trying. Del refrained from pointing out that Myra¡¯s charge was only fourteen and didn¡¯t suffer from a defective personality and a compulsive tendency towards spite.

    Del was still seething when he marched smartly out the compound doors. Worse than the director¡¯s ire was his own sense of failure. Wrapped up in his own contemplations, he almost walked past the girl perched on the park wall across the street. Nyssa hadn''t seen him yet, she was occupied with throwing nuts in the air and catching them in her mouth.

    Del stared for a moment, unsure if it really was Nyssa sitting outside the building with the highest concentration of Caul in England. But there was no mistaking the frizzy mass of red-purple hair spilling over her shoulders in tangled twists and loops. She was wearing a sack of a dress with a holey men¡¯s jumper pulled on over the top. It hung off her small frame, slipping off her shoulders. She¡¯d poked her thumbs through the holes in the sleeve. Her socks came up over her knees, leaving a slim strip of skin peeking out from underneath the dress.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    She didn¡¯t react when Del approached. He didn¡¯t say anything, just watched for a few minutes more as she threw nuts, most missing her mouth.

    ¡°What are you doing here?¡± he eventually asked. She hadn¡¯t expected him to talk and the distraction caused her to tip too far backward, attempting to catch a nut. Del grabbed her ankle as she flailed, stopping her from toppling off the wall. The nut bounced off her eye and she squeaked. She rubbed her eye, fixing a glare on him with the uninjured green orb.

    ¡°I¡¯ve come to surrender,¡± she said as if it were obvious. She held out her wrists as if to offer them to be cuffed. Del raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°What?¡± Nyssa asked, crunching into a handful of cashews.

    ¡°For months you have been actively avoiding all things Caul,¡± Del pointed out, ¡°and now you are surrendering.¡±

    ¡°That was because I didn¡¯t want to join your club,¡± she said, slipping off the wall and wobbling at she hit the ground. ¡°But now I¡¯ve seen the error of my ways. Sign me up for your little psychic gang.¡± Del crossed his arms and grunted, skeptical.

    Nyssa sighed. It was no fun when Del was all serious-like. She retrieved a backpack from the wall and fished out a rolled up bit of thick paper, the kind that artists use. She offered one end to him. Weird vibes were seeping out the pores of the parchment. For a moment, Del hesitated, searching for something in Nyssa¡¯s eyes. She was deeply serious and sincerely terrified. He took the paper, unrolling it with his long fingers.

    <hr>

 Chapter 12.2 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    Del went pale when he looked at her painting, but his expression didn¡¯t change apart from a little strain around his eyes. Nyssa had yet to see anything ruffle the perpetually composed boy. She humiliated him, avoided him almost effortlessly and teased him mercilessly and still, he remained unshaken. Most people tired of her much more easily than this. It was one of the reasons she moved around so much.

    ¡°Come with me,¡± he said, rolling up her painting, turning on his heel and taking off across the street. Nyssa hurried to keep up with him, needing to take three steps for every one of his long strides. The hurried through endless halls of concrete and whitewash.

    ¡°Nice place you have here, gimpy,¡± Nyssa said between harsh breaths. She really needed to work out more. Del ignored her. She had no idea how Del moved so quickly with his limp.

    Finally, they reached a thick wooden door with a golden plaque that read Riordan Murray, Compound Director.

    Del knocked on the door and waited a polite amount of time before entering.

    ¡°Director, I have an important matter to discuss with you,¡± Del said. Riordan didn¡¯t look up from his papers. He only waved Del away impatiently.

    ¡°It can wait until tomorrow,¡± Riordan said, dismissing him. ¡°I¡¯m busy.¡±

    Del stepped out of the doorway to reveal Nyssa, who had been waiting patiently, shielded by Del¡¯s tall frame.

    ¡°What¡¯s up, doc?¡± She flashed him a grin. ¡°I hear that I¡¯ve been wreaking havoc on your knickers.¡± She made a twisting motion with her hands. Riordan stared at the girl for a long moment. He leaned towards the intercom on his desk, flicking it on without breaking eye contact.

    ¡°Please cancel all my meetings for this afternoon, Gretchen. Something has come up.¡±

    Nyssa grinned at him again and let herself in. She slung herself sideways over one of the seats by his desk, hanging her knees over one of the armrests and using the opportunity to inspect her chipping nail polish.

    ¡°So you finally caught up with her, Del?¡± Riordan said, adding the files he was holding to a neat pile.

    ¡°Yes, that is what happened,¡± Nyssa said quickly before Del could answer. ¡°Del caught me.¡± Del shot her an unimpressed look.

    ¡°She showed up at our doorstep,¡± he admitted. Nyssa rolled her eyes. It didn¡¯t surprise her that Del refused to take any undeserved credit, even when it was thrust upon him. He was too much of a goody two shoes with some serious self-esteem issues.

    ¡°Let me see if I have this right,¡± Riordan steepled his fingers. ¡°You duck one of my most capable new operatives for months, drug another and humiliate this entire compound, and now you are just giving up?¡±

    ¡°Uh,¡± Nyssa thought for a moment, ¡°yeah. That sounds about right.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    Nyssa swung around in her chair so she sat upright and Del offered the Director the rolled up painting he still clutched. Riordan wordlessly unraveled it and lay it on his desk, over all the paperwork. He studied it for a moment.

    ¡°What is this supposed to mean?¡± he asked, with an unimpressed sigh.

    ¡°This is what is going to happen to the compound and the people in it sometime in the near future,¡± Nyssa said, serious for the first time since she arrived. Riordan rose an eyebrow.

    ¡°I saw your reports,¡± he said to Del, ¡°but I had no idea you actually put any stock in this fairy tale. Foresight is simply impossible.¡± Riordan spoke with false patience as if he were speaking to a child. Del shrugged.

    ¡°It is the best explanation I have. How else was she able to see us coming? It would also answer a lot of the questions about her time at the Goblin Markets and that incident with the ghoul.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s ridiculous!¡± Riordan exploded, thumping his finger down in the middle of the artwork. Nyssa frowned at him.

    ¡°How did I know what you look like then?¡± she asked, evenly.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°What?¡± said Riordan, now calm.

    ¡°How did I know what you look like?¡± Nyssa repeated. She pointed in a corner of her drawing where the unmistakable face of Riordan screaming in pain was etched in red paint. ¡°You don''t exactly have a Myspace page that I can stalk. Oh! And there¡¯s Del.¡± She pointed to the middle of the flames engulfing most of the painting. Del tall figure was standing stoically among the carnage, face twisted in agony. ¡°I assume you recognise the rest of these people?¡±

    Del stepped forward to examine the faces more carefully. Myra was there, and Vaughn and half a dozen other people that Nyssa could never have met.

    ¡°Is this the compound?¡± Del asked, running his fingers over the building being torn apart in the background of the painting.

    ¡°No,¡± Nyssa said in a small voice. ¡°Buildings often represent the self. That¡¯s¡­¡± she took a deep breath, ¡°that¡¯s me.¡±

    There was silence in the room for a few moments as the three of them stared at the painting.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure if my destruction is brought about because I get involved in your mess or if it will happen even if I steer clear of the Caul. Either way, I thought I may as well try to help. You are running into this thing, whatever it is, blind without me.¡±

    ¡°Nyssa,¡± Riordan said, ¡°I am not quite sure what you hope to achieve coming here.¡±

    ¡°What did you hope to achieve by capturing me, forcing me to come to the compound and ripping me away from my friends and family?¡± Nyssa countered. Del pulled a face.

    ¡°That is not what we were trying to do, Nys,¡± Del said patiently. Nyssa started a little at the nickname but didn¡¯t protest. ¡°We want to teach you and help you control your abilities. They can be dangerous, especially for someone as powerful as you.¡±

    ¡°We have yet to determine how powerful the girl is, Del,¡± Riordan said. Nyssa ignored that comment and ignored the fact that he was speaking about her, not to her.

    ¡°Let¡¯s do that then,¡± she said. ¡°Train me or whatever. Then I can jump in at the right moment and save all your butts. Then you can try and tell me how it¡¯s ¡®impossible¡¯ to see the future.¡±

    Riordan barely suppressed to urge to roll his eyes.

    ¡°There are some things to discuss before you begin your training. Del, you may wait outside,¡± Riordan said. Del nodded, hiding his reluctance, and did what he was told.

    ¡°Nyssa, I think that we should try and track down your father,¡± Riordan¡¯s voice was coolly impassive. That was not what Nyssa was expecting him to ask. ¡°If he is still alive and living in one of the compounds, we should be able to find him.¡±

    ¡°My father is human,¡± Nyssa insisted. Riordan quirked an eyebrow.

    ¡°That is difficult to believe,¡± he said. ¡°How would you explain your abilities?¡± Nyssa shrugged.

    ¡°Some other ancestor.¡± Her mumnever mentioned it in so many words, but she had always just assumed that her psychic abilities came from further back in her ancestry. When Nyssa had asked her mother or grandmother about her father, all they said was that he was a human who left before Nyssa had even been born.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Nyssa, but that sort of thing just doesn''t happen.¡± Riordan was adamant. ¡°Caul abilities don¡¯t just appear generations later.¡± Nyssa narrowed her eyes, propping up her elbow on her chair¡¯s armrest.

    ¡°There is a witch in New Jersey that can read auras,¡± she said, her voice even. ¡°A pooka in London has a mostly human line walker working for him. I once met a hunter who claimed he could sense where an animal had been just by touching the dirt or tree it had brushed up against. Just because you are ignorant of it, doesn''t mean it doesn''t happen.¡±

    The set of Riordan¡¯s mouth suggested that he wasn¡¯t convinced.

    ¡°I think we should explore the possibility of your father being Caul,¡± he said with false patience. ¡°It may be possible to track him down.¡± Nyssa clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging so deeply into her palms that they drew blood.

    ¡°What are you going to do?¡± she sneered. ¡°Send out a mass email to every Caul asking, ¡®hey, what were you up to twenty years ago? Did you happen to screw the bastard daughter of a genie and a witch and then abandon her? Surprise! You have a kid.¡¯¡± Riordan flinched at her frosty tone.

    ¡°That¡¯s hardly fair.¡± She cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand.

    ¡°I think you¡¯ve misunderstood me, Sir,¡± she stressed the last word derisively. ¡°I haven''t come here looking for a family. My family left me. I won''t have anything to do with a father that left me on my own to bury any family I once had.

    ¡°Believe me, I am doing just fine on my own. There is only one reason why I''m here,¡± she slammed her open hand down on her painting, ¡°and that¡¯s to stop you getting blown to all hell.¡±

    Riordan folded his hands calmly in his lap, not at all perturbed by her outburst.

    ¡°Very well,¡± he said as if he was talking to a child who didn¡¯t know any better. ¡°I think, perhaps it is time to conclude this interview.¡± He stood and walked to the door, opening it to admit Del. Nyssa took a deep breath through her nose and shot Del a strained half smile.

    ¡°Del, please escort Nyssa to the training rooms. She needsto be tested.¡±

    <hr>

    My last post was quite short so I thought that I would do an extra one this week.

    This was one of the earliest things I wrote and is a really defining scene for Nyssa in terms of her past and her family. At first, I wanted Nyssa to avoid talking about her feelings, but then I realised that Nyssa wouldn''t ignore her feelings of abandonment, she would get angry. The anger and the ''I can do it by myself'' attitude seemed more in tune with Nyssa''s character and allows for a more interesting character arc later on in the series. Let me know what you think.

 Chapter 12.3 Del

    Del:

    ¡°Why does this sound like it¡¯s going to hurt?¡± Nyssa said, quirking a delicately winged eyebrow.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Del said, in composed tones, ¡°hardly anyone has died.¡± Nyssa¡¯s smile became a little less forced. She delighted at the teasing, even as Riordan glared at the two.

    ¡°I¡¯ve cleared training room two,¡± Riordan said to Del. ¡°I will meet you there.¡± Del nodded once, professionally courteous, and led Nyssa out of the office.

    Nyssa opened her mouth to ask as question, but Del cut her off before she could speak.

    ¡°You will find out what the test is when we get there,¡± he said, his long legs moving him swiftly down the hall.

    ¡°Oh.¡± She was almost jogging to keep up with him. ¡°But who-¡±

    ¡°I will be testing you.¡± Before she could ask, Del explained why. ¡°I am the best at shielding.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    Del didn¡¯t respond, only quickened his pace.

    ¡°Touchy subject?¡± Del could hear the grin in her voice but his expression didn¡¯t change. Nyssa knew better, his face was too composed. The questioned bothered him for some reason.

    They walked in silence for a few minutes before Nyssa snagged his sleeve, bringing them both to a stop.

    ¡°Do you think this is a good idea?¡± she asked, brow furrowing. Del tilted his head, studying her somber face seriously. Eventually, she cracked a small smile which didn¡¯t reach her eyes. ¡°I haven¡¯t studied for a test.¡±

    Del stepped closer to her and laid his hand on her shoulder.

    ¡°It¡¯s going to be fine,¡± he said in a gruff voice. For a second they just looked each other in the eyes, then Nyssa shrugged off his comforting hand and huffed a laugh.

    ¡°I know,¡± she set off down the hallway, ¡°now, hurry before we are late.¡±

    ¡°So,¡± Nyssa glanced at their audience, then back at Del, ¡°do I just start reading your mind?¡± Almost every high ranking official in the compound had shown up to watch the test.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°You can try,¡± Del said, ¡°but we should probably start with emotions. They are usually the easiest to sense.¡±

    There weren''t any more rules to explain; Nyssa would attempt to breach his defenses while Del monitored her progress to determine her control. Del spread his palms towards her, gesturing for her to begin.

    Nyssa uncrossed her arms and leaned forward in her chair, her brow furrowing. Del remained sitting upright, his posture rigidly formal. He thought back to the first time they met and focused on those feelings. Amusement, a tinge of frustration, the need to help this lost little girl. Nyssa nudged at the wall protecting his mind but her touch was unfocused and spread too far to be effective.

    Nyssa pouted when her probing slid around Del¡¯s smooth gloss of protection, not able to find purchase or weakness. She leaned across the void between them and placed a single finger in the space between Del¡¯s eyes.

    As soon as she made contact, his head snapped back as if she had struck him and he rocked back in his chair, stunned. There was a curious sucking sensation, originating from the point where she had made contact with his skin, followed by an empty throbbing. He could feel Nyssa draining away remembered emotions and sensations, tugging at the twists of soft flesh between his ears as easily as if there were no barrier erected between them.

    Del bellowed a four letter oath.

    At the same time, Nyssa cried out, tipped sideways and hit the ground hard. She curled up on the floor, clutching her head and whimpering. Del lurched towards her but when he tried to rise from his seat, the world tilted and his knees buckled. Instead, he crawled the short distance to her prone form, her pained moaning driving him to ignore his building headache and come to her aid.

    ¡°Nyssa?¡± She didn¡¯t react to his gentle words or when he pulled her up off the floor to slump awkwardly against him. ¡°Nyssa.¡±

    She began to cry, the silent tears running down her face and neck and soaking into the collar of her shirt. She flinched away when he brushed a hand against her sodden cheeks. It was only when her confused jumble of thoughts washed over him that he realised that his mental shields were down. Immediately he slammed his walls up. In Nyssa¡¯s vulnerable state, foreign thoughts pressing in on her would only cause her more pain.

    Their audience of seasoned executives and learned stuffed shirts looked on, stupefied. In the past, testing psychic abilities of young students was largely uninteresting. So many of them had only attended the session because of the unusual circumstances surrounding Nyssa¡¯s late education. An event such as this had never occurred and those observing were at a loss to explain exactly what had taken place. A simple exercise had dissolved into crying and all sorts of hysterics.

    It was not proper.

    Del could feel their eyes burning into his back as he cradled a moaning Nyssa.

    ¡°Get out.¡±

    <hr>

    Okay, so this is important. What happens in the next chapter is also important. It is also my favorite part of the whole thing. I know I have said that a lot, but this time it is actually true. It is a little weird, but roll with it andpay attention.See if you can guess what it is foreshadowing. I have dropped plenty of hints, but from now on, those hints will be a lot more overt. See if you can guess where I am going with it =)

 Chapter 13.1 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    There was so much noise. No, not noise, something else. It felt the same as a roaring crowd; oppressive and overwhelming and alive. But a sucking silence pulled the life out of the air around me, draining the space around my ears like I was in a vacuum.

    A pounding ache echoed behind my ribs, somewhere in the vicinity of my heart. It seethed and festered and throbbed with every beat. I felt ill. The tight ball in my chest made my stomach drop and a savage ache crept up behind my eyes like I had spent hours crying.

    There was so much ¡­ something.

    Not noise. Not feelings. At least, not my own. Sensation.

    There were so many sensations.

    My stomach dipped again and my hands shook. I was vaguely aware that I was crying, or screaming.

    The full silence faded, morphing into white noise. The kind you don¡¯t notice at first. It is so low that is buzzes just beneath your range of hearing but then suddenly it¡¯s deafening, whining with a high-pitched urgency.

    I was running. No, walking.

    The screeching in my ears scratched at my brain like feedback. It was so loud that at first, I didn¡¯t notice how my leg was on fire. Pain lanced through my thigh, sending electric jolts up my spine every time I stepped. Blood covered my leg, so much that I couldn¡¯t see where it was coming from.Still, I limped along.My leg dragged uselessly beneath me. My muscles didn¡¯t respond as they should. I clutched at the wound, trying to stop the bleeding or pull the cut wider.I couldn¡¯t tell.

    Blood, thick and warm stained my hands, settling into the cracks and creases of my palms. I wanted to shove my fingers inside my wound; to poke as the damaged bits within me and pull at the muscle fibers winding around thebone.

    I was walking. Sometime I would stop for a rest. Maybe after the next rise, for I now realised I was climbing. Funny how I didn¡¯t notice that before.The soreness in my chest made itself known again. It was like I had swallowed a lifetime of loneliness and shoved it down next to my hollow hurt and empty passions.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    I did not know one person could ache so fiercely.

    A paper moon rose in the sky, looming over me. It was so huge that blocked out the stars and filled the inky blackness of the night sky. I could almost touch it.I was trailing blood everywhere. The red turning grey as it left my body, handprints smeared across every surface I brushed up against. Everything I touched was stained by blood from my wound.

    Someone was walking beside me. A tall woman with dark hair and luminously pale skin. Her eyes slid shut so only a crescent shaped sliver of white was visible.She was terrified. I didn¡¯t know how I knew that. She didn¡¯t look scared. Actually, she looked as if she were sleepwalking. As we walked, she seemed to wane. Her skin no longer glowed with an inner light. Her hair turned limp and her eyes opened wide and terrified.

    We faced each other. The woman offered me her hands. Her fingers were long a slim, like a pianist¡¯s. I help up my hands, palm up, mirroring the woman. My nails were bitten short, her¡¯s were long and graceful. My skin was a deep olive, hers as perfect and pale as a porcelain doll. Yet, our hands were the same. Blood had dried in the creases of our palms and under our nails. I knew that we could not wash this blood away, not really.

    For a long moment, we stared at each other. Her eyes held so much pain, my heart echoed her cry. I was used to listening in on other people¡¯s emotions, but to feel them as they did was overwhelming. I felt so fulllike I could burst at any moment.

    I closed my eyes against the onslaught. It was too much.

    When I opened my eyes there was a flash of yellow. The tall woman wore a stained yellow sundress. Blood ran from her nose and through the creases of her lips, staining it an awful red.

    I cried out but made no noise. I stumbled back, my arms still outstretched. Then it was gone. She looked the same as before; sad and terrified and full of old pain, her hands held palm upward as if all she had to offer was blood and hurt.

    The paper moon set behind her. The night was darkening. The only thing that was visible was the bright orbs that were the whites of her eyes reflecting the starlight back to me.

    I was empty and full and terrified and numb all at the same time.

    I was drifting.

    <hr>

    Ta da. So there it is, my favorite part of the whole book. I wrote this while pretty drunk and on cold and flu meds so that explains some things... This actually wasn''t in the original draft, Nyssa just went unconscious and that was it. Then I got a cold and got drunk and got creative. This was the result.

    Any guesses at who the woman is or why she is important? Any guesses at anything? As I said in the last chapter, this part is very important, everything means something. See if you can guess where I''m going with the story =)

 Chapter 13.2 Del

    Del:

    ¡°Everything?¡± Riordan said, pacing the hall outside the training room. ¡°What do you mean everything?¡± The room had been cleared and the heard of executives had been sent away. Only Del and Riordan remained.

    ¡°Exactly what it sounds like,¡± Del answered. His shirt remained uncreased and his hair refused to be mussed, as if the episode hadn¡¯t occurred. ¡°Every single emotion I have ever felt, downloaded from my brain to hers in a second. It¡¯s no wonder she is overwhelmed.¡± It had been almost half an hour since the incident and Nyssa had yet to be roused. She sat clutching her head in the corner on the training room, staring silently with an unfocused, fevered gaze.

    Del had recovered from her mental assault enough to update Riordan on what had actually gone wrong during the test.

    ¡°It was as if my shielding wasn¡¯t even there,¡± he said, not looking up from his hands and straightening his right cuff link. ¡°There was no stopping her.¡±

    His brain throbbed. A headache had bloomed behind his eyes the moment Nyssa had ripped his feelings out by the fistful. Riordan stopped his pacing, and breathed out through his nose harshly. For a moment he stared at the door to the training room and if he could see through it by sheer will.

    ¡°I¡¯ll start making arrangements,¡± he said finally, not tearing his gaze away from the door. ¡°We will need to clear a room for her in the-¡±

    ¡°We are not sending her there,¡± Del cut him off sharply.

    ¡°Del, think about this rationally,¡± Riordan said in his too calm voice. ¡°After this ordeal she needs to be cared for.¡±

    ¡°And your solution is shoving her into the west wing?¡± Del clenched his teeth together, fighting for calm. ¡°We don¡¯t even know what she is going to be like coming out of this.¡±

    ¡°Del, we don¡¯t even know if she will come out of this.¡±

    Del finched.

    ¡°Del?¡± The small voice came from inside the training room. Del ripped open the door and was across the room before Riordan could react.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Nys?¡± Del slid the last metre or so on his knees, coming to a stop in front of her. Nyssa was still hunched over, clutching her head but her eyes were now closed. ¡°Are you alright, Nyssa?¡±

    He double checked his mental shielding and ran his fingers over her limp hair.

    ¡°What sort of question is that?¡± she groaned. ¡°Of course not. You have a lot of fucked up shit in that pretty little head of yours.¡±

    Del was so relieved that he laughed out loud. Nyssa finched.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be sick,¡± she moaned. Del snagged an empty waste basket from the corner and wedged it under her chin. They sat like that for a while; Nyssa whining into her bin and Del watching over her, ready to help.

    Eventually Nyssa discarded the empty bin and threw herself backwards. Del moved so he was standing over her splayed out form.

    ¡°Nys?¡± She covered her face with her arms and refused to look at him. ¡°Nyssa, are you sure you¡¯re alright?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± She shook her head vehemently underneath her folded arms. ¡°All those confusing emotions was like going through puberty all over again. Except this is worse. They were boy emotions.¡±

    Del chuckled lowly.

    ¡°Is the really how you see the world?¡± she asked, peeking out from underneath her arms. ¡°Hollow moons and empty starlight?¡±

    Del breathed out slowly through his nose. ¡°Sometimes.¡±

    Nyssa used almost exactly the same words Del had said to Myra weeks ago. She¡¯d experience his emotions, not his memories and yet, she looked at the world the same as him. She hadn¡¯t just felt his emotions, she¡¯d understood them. Del¡¯s heart gave a funny little thump.

    She stretched her arms out beside her and tilted her head. Her brow furrowed and her eyes turned intense.

    ¡°How incredibly heartbreaking.¡±

    They were silent for a moment.

    ¡°Come on, Nys.¡± He offered her his hands. ¡°Let¡¯s get you something for that headache you probably have.¡± She took both his hands and allowed herself to be pulled up off the floor.

    ¡°Del?¡± She hadn¡¯t released his hands.

    ¡°Yes, Nyssa?¡±

    ¡°Do you really think I have a defective personality?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Nyssa.¡± His soft smile made it seem like less of an insult. If she recognised those feelings, she probably realise that Del was growing fond of this strange little creature that refused to be rescued. The more she fought him, the more he wanted to shield her from all the bad things in the world.

    He gave her hands a squeeze and she gave him a bright little smile. Yeah, she knew he was fond of her. No doubt she would take advantage of that fact.

    Riordan watched them walk away, frowning at the odd pair.

 Chapter 13.3 Myra

    Myra:

    Myra had just finished checking up on Bobby and was making her way back to her rooms when she sensed people coming down the hall. One of them was Del. His steady, warm energy, like sunlight beaming down at noon, was easily recognisable. Myra couldn¡¯t identify who he was with. The slow moving whirlpool of energy beside him was unfamiliar.

    She heard them before she saw them. She recognised Del¡¯s low, even voice but the other voice was feminine and unfamiliar.

    ¡°So now that I¡¯ve been thoroughly caught, are you off to rescue more poor little orphans from themselves?¡± the unknown girl said from around the corner.

    ¡°You were my first little orphan, Nyssa,¡± Del said in his usual composed tones. ¡°And you were more than enough trouble for one lifetime.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s back to practicing your scowl in the mirror and polishing your shoes then?¡±

    Myra flushed angrily at this insensitive girl¡¯s mocking words. Del said something too low for Myra to hear. The other person only giggled girlishly.

    ¡°You do!¡± she laughed. ¡°Your expression would scare children.¡±

    Myra rounded the corner and the couple came into view. The girl was older than she expected, with olive skin and huge amounts of thick, wavy hair. As Myra approached, the girl stopped walking to point delightedly at Del¡¯s face.

    ¡°See!¡± she said triumphantly, bouncing on her toes. ¡°If that¡¯s not a scowl, I don''t know what is.¡±

    Myra opened her mouth, a sharp admonishment prepared, when Del reacted completely uncharacteristically to the teasing.

    ¡°Brat,¡± he said, reaching out and tugging gently on the girl¡¯s ponytail. She giggled and swatted his hand away. Del made another swipe at her hair, which she dodged, and returned her grin with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling gently. The rare expression brought Myra up short.

    ¡°Poor Del,¡± the new girl said, ducking under his reaching arms. ¡°No one understands you!¡± She threw her head back melodramatically, clutching at her heart and pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. This made Del laugh outright, the deep chuckle bouncing throughout the halls for the first time in Myra¡¯s memory.

    When the dark haired girl caught sight of Myra approaching them, she paused in her teasing just long enough for Del to capture her. He pulled her to his side by her elbow and began marching them down the hall.

    ¡°Good afternoon, Myra,¡± he said when he caught sight of her gaping at them. The girl, Del had called her Nyssa, fluttered her fingers and stepped closer to Del. ¡°Myra, this is our newest recruit, Nyssa.¡± He nudged the tiny girl towards Myra. Nyssa held out her hand, grinning madly.

    Bewildered, Myra shook the girl¡¯s hand. Nyssa went ashen as soon as their skin brushed. She stumbled back a few paces ran right into Del who wound his arm around her waist. Myra frowned at them again. Del seemed very familiar with the younger girl, it was unlike him to be teased by anyone, let alone a girl who was practically a stranger. Del didn¡¯t make friends easily, keeping to himself and rarely sharing anything personal.

    ¡°Yes, I know,¡± Nyssa said shakily. Myra blinked.

    ¡°What?¡±

    Del coughed. ¡°Uh, she¡¯s responding to your thoughts,¡± he said in a half-whisper. ¡°You¡¯re broadcasting them quite a bit and Nyssa is a little receptive at the moment.¡± Myra quickly shored up her defenses and pulled her thoughts closer. It was something most of the Caul did at least some of the time. It was difficult and exhausting to maintain a mental barrier perfectly, so frequently the compounds were places of free thought and open sharing of emotions. Del was one of the only People Myra had met who kept such a vigorous shield in place all of the time.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°There was what you would call an ¡®incident¡¯ while I was being tested,¡± Nyssa said drily. Del and Nyssa shared an unrecognisable silent exchange, glancing at each other.

    ¡°I fear Nyssa has been subjected to more of me than anyone really should be. It is a wonder she is still here and not running in the other direction.¡± It was a strangely roundabout statement that didn¡¯t really tell Myra anything. Del was prone to these odd little outbursts and Myra didn¡¯t understand a lot of his musings. Worse, every time Myra would ask what Del meant, it was as if he would curl in upon himself and he would refuseto explain. She didn¡¯t know how to respond at all.

    Nyssa didn¡¯t share Myra¡¯s trepidation. She only laughed gaily and tugged on Del¡¯s sleeve.

    ¡°A truer statement, you have not made, dear Del. You are crazy and I don¡¯t wish to explore that more than I already have,¡± she said brightly. Myra flinched but both Nyssa and Del ignored her discomfort.

    ¡°Nyssa is going to stay in the room next to you,¡± Del said to Myra. ¡°Could you take her there? I need to fill out a report about the incident.¡± He didn¡¯t pull a face but Myra suspected that he was just as fed up with the endless amounts of paperwork the compound generated as she was. He never complained. It was his duty and Del always took his duties seriously.

    ¡°This way,¡± Myra said shortly and took off down the hall. Nyssa waved at Del and half-ran to catch up with Myra.

    ¡°You are Myra,¡± Nyssa said as if it meant something more. Perhaps Del had mentioned her before now. ¡°You grew up with Del.¡± Myra nodded but didn¡¯t say anything. ¡°Did you really grow up here?¡± Nyssa looked around as if the white walls bewildered her.

    ¡°I spent some time in Finland in the compound I was born in, but yes, i spent most of my childhood here with Del.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it a little boring for children?¡± Nyssa stuck her head into a room they were passing. It was a conference room with a long glass table and the standard black chairs found in offices everywhere.

    ¡°We were too busy to get bored,¡± Myra said, moving on.

    ¡°Where did you play?¡± Nyssa was still staring into the room. Myra stopped at the end of the hall and waited for the girl.

    ¡°There is an arena and a courtyard where we trained,¡± Myra said from down the hall. She didn¡¯t ask Nyssa to hurry up like she wanted to. It was an overwhelming day for the girl and Myra was doing her best to give her time to adjust to living in the compound. ¡°I can show it to you tomorrow if you like.¡±

    ¡°Training isn¡¯t playing,¡± Nyssa pointed out as if were obvious. Myra only smiled.

    ¡°It is to Caul children.¡± Nyssa¡¯s expression made it clear that she was glad that she didn¡¯t have to grow up in a place like the compound. Myra didn¡¯t even have to listen in on her thoughts to know that. ¡°You aren¡¯t lucky to grow up outside a compound,¡± Myra said in answer to her unspoken thoughts. Nyssa crossed her arms.

    ¡°How do you know?¡± Her green eyes sparkled. ¡°You don¡¯t know any different.¡±

    ¡°Neither do you.¡± Myra took a step towards the younger girl. ¡°Most wild talents are not as old as you. Do you know why that is?¡± Nyssa shrugged.

    ¡°They aren¡¯t as good as hiding?¡±

    ¡°Most kill themselves.¡± Myra¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t cold, but it was deliberately somber. The loss of their young ones was something all Caul grieved. ¡°Or they do irreparable damage to themselves or others because they don¡¯t know how to use their gifts. Caul children train so that we are strong enough to use our gifts to protect ourselves, our families and the rest of the world.¡±

    ¡°That is an awful lot of pressure to put on a child,¡± Nyssa said quietly.

    ¡°We are stronger than you think,¡± Myra said. "We need to be." She gestured to another hall, as plain and as the one they stood in. ¡°Our rooms are down here. You can decorate yours however you want if white and boring isn¡¯t to your taste.¡± She glanced over the girl¡¯s usual outfit. White and boring was definitely not her style. ¡°I can arrange for some of your personal items to be brought over. One backpack will hardly be enough. Or we can take you shopping if you¡¯d like, complete with a Caul credit card.¡±

    ¡°You are nice,¡± Nyssa said matter of factly, walking past her. ¡°I think I understand a little more, meeting you. Del is lucky to have you.¡± Nyssa disappeared into her room.

    What a strange girl, Myra thought.

 Chapter 14.1

    Nyssa:

    Nyssa had been at the compound for over a week and she had achieved exactly nothing. She was beginning to see why Del was so stuffy. Her time was spent in endless loops of filling out reports and meeting with various officials to talk about what she had written in her reports. Nyssa had met dozens of psychiatrists, doctors, experts and endless amounts of Caul bureaucrats, all wanting to know about her gifts and all dismissing her abilities out of hand. Riordan was the worst of the lot. He refused to believe that she could do what she said she could.

    Impossible, they said. Nyssa would just roll her eyes and accuse them of lacking imagination. It was only impossible because they had spent generations telling themselves it was. Nyssa broke rules all the time, simply because she was never told that there were any rules.

    But she had a plan to convince them. She needed more information about the approaching threat and the only way to do that was to have another vision. The only problem was that her visions weren¡¯t coming. The blandness of the compound and its rigid routine sucked the creativity out of her. She hadn¡¯t so much as predicted the weather since she arrived at the compound.

    It was terribly inconvenient.

    Nyssa paced around her room. A steaming pot of coffee was bubbling away merrily on her desk. She was weighing the pros and cons of forcing a vision with an excessive amount of caffeine. Coffee would increase her concentration, but it also increases the risk that she might miss something. The extra kick to her system meant that Nyssa could take a closer look at whatever she wanted, but that didn¡¯t necessarily mean that she knew what to look for.

    Plus, it would give her a wicked headache.

    Ordinarily, Nyssa would just let her visions come organically, but this was an exception. She really wanted to tell Riordon ¡®I told you so¡¯ but she needed to know more about what was coming.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Guess this is happening, Nyssa thought to herself. She took a big gulp and let the caffeine surge through her system.

    Three cups and a half hour later, Nyssa had settled comfortably onto her bed, pencil and drawing pad at the ready. She was an odd mix of intense concentration and hyperactive energy. And she really needed to pee. Just before she was about to give up and go to the bathroom, a huge pressure began building at the base of her spine. Her muscles clenched and the air was forced from her lungs. Coffee gurgled uncomfortably in her stomach, sloshing and churning. She should have eaten something.

    Nyssa¡¯s eyes snapped open. The notebook in her lap clattered to the floor and she discarded the pencil she¡¯d poised over it. She needed more than just paper. She jerked herself off the bed, stumbling as her numb feet hit the hardwood floor. She shoved against the vision she could feel pushing against her skull. It was coming on too fast, she needed more time. She tore at the draw of her side table. It was empty except for odd bits of art supplies that rattled viciously when she all but yanked the draw from its cavity. Flashes of dark shapes flickered in front of her face. She swiped at them instinctively but they were only shadows.

    The vision was coming on much too quickly.

    She felt around the drawer, rifling through the junk more by feel than sight. Her vision was unreliable. Darkness was pressing down on her.

    ¡°Bugger it all!¡± She lurched towards her desk, clumsily decimating anything in her path. ¡°Shite.¡±

    She scooped up the lump of charcoal that lay there, abandoned. Not much more than a stub really, but it would do. Now she only needed a canvas. In her dimming vision, the stark white wall stood out, peeking out beneath the various pinned artworks and miscellaneous knickknacks she¡¯d hung in an attempt to make the dull room homier.

    There wasn¡¯t enough white.

    She swiped roughly at the wall, ripping the paper off and knocking a mirror the floor. It shattered by her bare feet but she didn¡¯t notice. She brandished the charcoal, letting the dimness take over her vision.

    ¡°I hope Riordan does mind a little artistic expression all over his whitewash.¡±

 Chapter 14.2 Del

    Del:

    Nyssa hadn¡¯t left her room all day. Del was worried about her. He was marching towards her room, determined to force her into public when he got the sense that something was wrong. He¡¯d learned long ago not to ignore his intuition. He quickened his pace, rolling up his sleeves as he twisted around the corner that led to the hallway he needed. After clearing the corner, he stopped on a dime, eyes fixed on the dark liquid spreading out from underneath Nyssa¡¯s closed door.

    He jerked into motion, ripping open the door and charging inside. It was a mess. The shattered remains of a mug littered the floor amongst the growing pool of dark coffee that was leaking into the hallway. The side table lay on its back next to the bed, its contents spewed halfway across the room. Bits of paper fluttered around sticking to the liquid he stood in.

    Myra stood just inside thedoor, staring at the calamity in awe. Her attention was fixed to the wall opposite. It was covered in thick, dark strokes of charcoal. The harsh lines blurred together, depicting a scene of horror and destruction. Del stepped further into the room, glass crunching under his boots. Somehow, a mirror had been smashed.

    In the eye of the storm was Nyssa. She was crouched beneath her artwork, her hands folded loosely over her knees. A stub of charcoal was clutched in one of her limp hands.

    ¡°Oh, Nyssa,¡± he sighed. He approached her, careful to keep his steps slow and even. He bent down, taking the charcoal from her gently and drawing her towards him.

    ¡°Do you think Riordan will like it?¡± she asked gently, her eyes sliding closed. Her feet had been sliced to ribbons by the glass. Del tuted at the sight of her blood.

    ¡°I drew it so that he could see,¡± she continued, leaning heavily on him. She swiped at the sweat beading on her upper lip with the back of her hand, leaving a smear of charcoal across her lower face.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    ¡°Shush,¡± Del said gently. He scooped her up and carried her to the bed. It was the only place in the room that remained untouched, except for a few rumpled sheets. He snagged the first aid box from the desk and laid her down in one smooth motion. Nyssa¡¯s head lolled and her eyelids fluttered. Del tore open a bit of gauze, dabbing it against a particularly deep cut.

    Myra disappeared into the ensuite. The sound of running water and glass clinking soon followed. She emerged with a bowl of steaming water and a towel.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go get Riordan,¡± Myra said from the doorway, her voice faint. ¡°And a broom.¡± Del didn¡¯t react other than a distracted nod. He fished out some tweezers and started pulling bits of glass from Nyssa¡¯s feet. She didn¡¯t even flinch.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about the mirror,¡± Nyssa said, almost inaudibly. Her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Del shushed her again, dipping a cloth into some warm water and cleaning her cuts. She mumbled incoherently, eyes sliding shut as Del began cleaning her hands. They were stained black to her elbows with powdery charcoal. There was also words scrawled in pen on her wrist in Nyssa¡¯s flowing handwriting.

    Note to self: get coffee.

    She¡¯d planned this vision. Coffee would be a catalyst to someone like her. Most of the Caul avoided caffeine because it sent their abilities into overdrive.

    Nyssa protested weakly when he began wiping her face. He pushed her hands aside gently.

    ¡°I¡¯m just getting you five o¡¯clock shadow,¡± he chuckled. When she had rubbed at her face, she had left behind a dark smudge.

    ¡°Go to sleep, Nys. I will take care of the mess.¡±

    So she slept.

    When he¡¯d finished cleaning her up, Del spent a moment inspecting her artwork. The charcoal drawing took up most of the wall with it¡¯s thick, bold lines and deep shadows. Any papers that had been left clinging to the wall had simply been drawn over and incorporated into canvas. The piece itself was breathtaking. Nyssa was a truly remarkable artist.

    She¡¯d drawn a man with his face in shadow. His hair was short and messy and he had broad shoulders. He¡¯d one arm stretched over his head, hefting a sword as if to slice Del in two, skull to navel. A fox weaved in and about his ankles, staring at Del no matter where he stood in the room.

    Even though he didn¡¯t know what it meant, the drawing left a sour taste in his mouth and a sense of foreboding lingering in the air.

 Chapter 15.1 Nyssa

    Nyssa:

    Nyssa was bedridden and she wasn¡¯t happy about it. Having sliced up feet was annoying. The compound''s doctor had given her twenty stitches and strict instructions not to move out of her bed for three days. Nyssa usually struggled to sit still for three minutes, let alone three days.

    She spent her morning on her phone or drawing before she got fed up with the inactivity and threw her sketchbook across the room, hitting her charcoal fox right in the face.

    The charcoal drawing glared down at her. She had avoided looking at it all day but refused to let Riordan wash it off the wall. It was important. This drawing felt more immediate than her last one. It was about a specific event, unlike the last drawing. Something that was going to happen. Soon. She couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the events depicted on her wall was going to push them closer towards the flames and collapsing buildings she predicted earlier.

    Even as she stared at the drawing it seemed to come alive. The fox twisted around its master¡¯s legs like a cat, begging for attention or recognition. She could almost make out the man¡¯s face, still cast in shadow. If she looked a bit longer maybe the shadows would be lifted. She could almost make out the glint of his eyes.

    The figure seemed to loom taller. His arm stretched higheras if to bring the sword down onto her. She tore her eyes away from the drawing. The charcoal curves of the man¡¯s dark face seemed too real. She wanted to sever this odd connection she felt with the man.

    Actually, what she most wanted to get out of this bed. Healing was so inconvenient. A thought occurred to her and she slapped her forehead.

    ¡°I¡¯m an idiot,¡± she said to no one in particular. She swung her legs off the bed, wincing as her feet brushed the floor. She snagged the wheelie chair from behind the desk and somehow managed to lever herself onto it without tumbling to the ground. From there it was easy to propel herself across the room to her desk.

    Del had righted to contents of her desk after the little incident the day before. Actually, her drawing supplies and various nick nacks were neater than they had ever been. He¡¯d even lined up her pens in height order. She snickered and shoved all the odds and ends to one side with her forearm.

    The grains of wood were aligned in neat little rows, curving gently together. She counted the knots breaking up their uniform current. Three. Not bad, but not great. She could make do with this as a base.

    She needed to make straight lines. Two of the knots lined up nicely but the third was out of balance. She rifled through one of drawers until she found a little figurine. It had been her grandmother¡¯s at some point. It was made from amaple tree and Nyssa found it especially good for bringing balance. She lined it up with the third knot. In the back of her mind, she felt a small click as it seemed to melt into place.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Next, she dug out a handful of river stones. She¡¯d fished them out of the ford by Morea¡¯s tree. Fords were particularly powerful when it came to the creation of ley lines. Almost every waterford Nyssa had come across had at least a weak ley line attached to it.

    Pressing the stones to her mouth, she thought of Morea and the river by her tree. She thought of the cliffs above their little hideaway and how they lined up perfectly with the low wall Nyssa had built when she was fifteen.

    She placed the stones around the table, lining them up with each other along the grooves of the grains. She languidly drew lines connecting the knots, stones and figurine. In the centre of the tabled, these lines overlapped. With each connection, Nyssa felt a small shift in the air before her. It was as if the space above the table was stretching or being pulled apart. She could feel a line being drawn between this place and another. If she wasn¡¯t careful, she would connect her room to another ley line, and not the one she was aiming for. The river stones would help, but most of the connection was depended on Nyssa¡¯s concentration.

    Nyssa removed her necklace. It was a jadeite and would help bring all the points of connections together. She lay the stone in the exact centre of the table, right over where all the lines intersected.

    She was done. Now all she had to do was see if it worked.

    ¡°Morea,¡± she hissed through the little portal she created. With such tiny lines, it was impossible to make a bigger portal. ¡°Morea, wake up!¡± Nyssa could sense the little dryad¡¯s dreams.

    ¡°My Nyssa?¡± Morea whispered sleepily.

    ¡°Yeah, wake up.¡± Nyssa threw a pen through the opening that was around the size of her head. She pegged the dryad right in the shoulder.

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    Nyssa giggled.

    ¡°Morea, I need the charm stone I gave you.¡± She¡¯d left the charm stone in the clearing for safe keeping. And in case Morea had a relapse. But now she had need of it.

    ¡°Are you hurt, my Nyssa?¡± Morea sounded worried. Her green eyes peeked up at her through the portal.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, Morea. It¡¯s just a scratch.¡± There was sounds of creaking wood and leaves rustling. Morea liked to keep all her important things in her trunk for safe keeping. It was the perfect place to hide something.

    ¡°Here you are, my Nyssa.¡± A slender, green-tinged arm reached across the void between places and poked out of thin air. Nyssa took the opaic stone from Morea¡¯s grasp and thanked the little dryad.

    ¡°I¡¯ll visit soon,¡± she promised, blowing her a kiss.

    ¡°You better, my Nyssa.¡± Morea¡¯s frown attempted to look threatening but only ended up being cute. Nyssa laughed. She nudged the maple figurine out of alignment and cut off their connection. If she needed to contact Morea again, all she needed to do was put the figurine back in place. She¡¯d needn¡¯t go through the whole process of creating a ley line again.

    She popped the charm stone in a bottle of water and shook it vigorously. A fizz of magic bubbled around the stone.

    ¡°I''m back in business,¡± she said and took a deep swig.