Wednesday, August 25, 2021

Works-in-Progress Wednesday: "Fugitive Of Crossway" Excerpt: "A New Story"


Mellisande threw open the door to the small rented room above the tavern and unbound her hair with a sigh. [...] She had most of the main conflict, if she could figure out what made Allyra suddenly human, and turned the giant with all his demanding questions into a villainous enemy set on stopping Peter and Allyra from escaping... something. The bottom line was that the story was there, she just needed to do some thinking that would bring it within arm's reach so she could write it!

[...] The young librarian flopped on the creaky, lumpy bed and began scribbling her notes with a pencil in a small book of blank pages.
The fact that she was so frequently dreaming of a carnival setting had to carry some significance--but how to get Peter to a carnival? Perhaps one visited the town where he lived? Such a thing was not out of the ordinary in Crossway--about a dozen or so caravans regularly made the circuit from one end of the country to the other, each having a different composition of acts.

[...]

Mellisande whirled back to the bed and picked up her pencil and notebook. "Fawkes", she wrote, picturing a man with thick whiskers, sly and cunning as a fox, with a boisterous attitude and thick hands. Along with him was a narrow-faced, keen-eyed woman she named "Kitt", a fresh-faced young damsel with wide emerald eyes who loved fancy dresses and clean and pretty things, and generally spent most of her time gossiping, spreading rumors, and listening closely to the things people revealed about themselves. She had no idea how these two would interact with Peter, and whether they'd actually be a help or a hinderance, but Mel had been writing for long enough to know that once her ideas started to take shape, the story itself tended to fall into place fairly quickly.

She wrote in spurts, some parts going quickly, some needing quite a bit of thinking before she could come up with a suitable answer. The giant definitely presented a considerable conflict for Peter to overcome, but it didn't take long for Mellisande to decide that he wasn't going to be the main villain, there was someone more important, more powerful, working behind the scenes, controlling the chaos swirling around the intrepid heroes.

Her eye fell on the pile of papers that were all of her early drafts for the swan story, which went into great detail describing the wizard responsible for transforming the princess, a dark, bearded man with a rich cloak trimmed in gold, and a harsh, raspy voice. In her mind's eye, Mel thought about the cloaked wizard in the context of this strange, inescapable carnival, and ever so slightly, the wizard's appearance shifted into a round-faced, man with frizzy silver hair, a large smile, and a shiny black top-hat.
 Mellisande smiled and noted in her book Wizard = Ringmaster. Yes, a magical wizard as the master of a "freak-show circus" where he displays a variety of strange and bizarre creatures... Someplace that would definitely be interested in procuring a mermaid.

[...]

"That's it," Mel said aloud to herself in the empty room. "That's the story." She sat at the small, rickety table and pulled out her quill and inkwell. At the top, she wrote the title of her story, Peter and The Carnival, by M. Sande. The characters came to life under her pen, the words streaming from her hand to the page with relative ease. [...]

Peter stood to the side as the crowd dispersed, she wrote, wringing his hands and staring up at Allyra, who frantically darted from one end of the tank to the other, searching for some means of escape.
"Ain't that a sight?" grunted a voice next to him.
Peter glanced over to a burly man in a round bowler hat and a long trenchcoat, who appeared next to him from out of the shadows. The stranger had already noticed something in Peter's gaze, and he said, "This wouldn't happen to be a friend of yours, would it?"
Peter could only nod at first. When he found his voice, he said, "I met her in the water. She saved my life long ago. I would very much like to return the favor, only I'm not sure how!"
Bowler-hat Man chuckled, his bushy beard bristling in the light of the lanterns. "Well, you're in luck, kid! I happen to be in the business of figuring out tricky situations."
Peter blinked. "You would help me? But I don't even know who you are."
The man grinned and stuck out a hand. "The name's Fawkes, kid. What's yours?"
Peter shook it, feeling the strength in the man's grip, and watching his dextrous fingers curl around his hand. "Peter; that mermaid up there, her name is Allyra."
"Charmed, Peter! Now see, we ain't strangers no more; let's go cause some mayhem!"

Mellisande wrote long into the night, as the sky darkened and a blanket of fog settled over the streets of Willemstone. By the time she'd introduced Kitt into the mix as the character who would provide the diversion for Fawkes and Peter to be able to pull Allyra out of the tank (at which point she could effectively shed her tail and walk with them), her eyelids were beginning to slip closed and her hand ached so much that she almost dropped her pen. But she smiled as she surveyed the pile of pages while massaging the pressure points in her palm. It was a start, for sure!
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Wednesday, August 18, 2021

Works-in-Progress Wednesday: "Fugitive of Crossway" Excerpt: "Two Fugitives"




"I'm hungry," said Yssandra, for at least the fiftieth time along the road.

Simon shuffled in the borrowed shoes that were just a little too small for his feet. He scowled in frustration, tired of pulling out the knapsack to confirm for her that it was, in fact, empty, and it had been for several hours now. "Saying that isn't going to make food magically appear, you know," he grumbled at her.

Yssandra tucked a lock of golden-brown hair behind her ear. "I know," she said. "I just didn't know what else to do about it."

Simon stopped and turned to face the tall woman. "If you want to get food, we can stop in the next town and see what they have to offer that we can afford," he shook the small purse full of coin from James that he'd slipped into his pocket. "But in order to do that, you have to put the clothes on."

Yssandra frowned and stomped her leather-wrapped foot, crossing her arms. Her eyes had taken on most of the vibrant purple color that her tail used to be, and they gleamed as she glared down at the scruffy-faced Simon. "I don't see why we can't just buy clothes! I still think it's wrong that you took them--what if the family needed them?"

"They don't!" Simon felt like he was back in Overcliff, arguing with Prince Nathan about what a rural farming family could and couldn't afford. "You saw how many shirts and skirts there were on that rack! We only took one dress for you, some pants and a shirt for me, and shoes, since if you recall you're wearing mine!" He pointed to her feet, clad in little more than scraps of leather anymore. She'd worn the soles right off of them already. "Those people are not even going to miss them, and it helps you to blend in more with human society." As if she didn't stand out already, at that height! he thought after he'd said it.

Yssandra let out a long breath, flaring her nostrils as if she still had gills she could pop to vent her annoyance. "Fine! Wait here for me, I'm going to go behind that bush and put on this dress." She snatched the bundle of cloth he offered and marched off into the bracken.

While he waited, Simon glanced up and down the road. He was impressed that Nykkola could have derailed the entire caravan such that no one seemed to be pursuing them, as far as the eye could see. He had gotten over showing nervousness at every wagon they heard, and very adept at refusing offers of a ride. The more they could keep to themselves, he decided, the less chance there was of accidentally crossing paths with Twyner and his crew.

The bushes rustled, and Simon heard Yssandra announce, "All right, I'm ready to go now."
He turned to look up at her.

She had woven her hair back using twigs and stems to brace the plait. The dress was definitely much smaller on her body by several inches, with the sleeves ending just past her elbows, and the skirts waving well above her ankles. She wore it with her shoulders sticking out of the top, opting to fasten it only halfway--it was a style Simon was used to seeing for rich ballgowns, and very obviously against the way the dress was designed to be worn, but somehow it suited her.

She watched him staring at her, and she ducked her head, her fair cheeks flushing bright-red. "Is it all right?" She asked. "Have I put it on correctly?"

Simon nodded. "That looks about as right as you can make it." He shifted the knapsack on his shoulder. "Shall we keep walking?"

Yssandra glanced over her shoulder back the way they had come. "Why do we have to keep running? You don't think Ringmaster Twyner is still looking for us, do you?"

Simon scratched behind his ear and thought about the way Twyner had been talking about Yssandra, compared to the esteemed position she held in the carnival when he'd first joined them. "On the one hand, he was looking for a way to get rid of you," he mused.

Yssandra gasped, stumbling back a little as the news caused a physical shock. "Get rid of me? What, you mean like sell me off, or kill me?"

Simon shrugged. "Who knows what he would have done if Nykkola hadn't helped us escape. But now that we have, I imagine he'd be glad to be rid of us." He shifted the knapsack on his shoulder and oriented his body west. They were still too far inland to see the Channel. "On the other hand," he continued, "the longer we stay in Crossway, the more chance he has of finding us, being so much faster with his wagons than we are on foot."

Yssandra had to shorten her long strides to keep pace with him. "Leave Crossway?" she cried. "You mean, I might see Undersea again?"

"If you want to," Simon replied, glancing at her legs. "That is, if we can find some way of reversing the change that happened to you."

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Saturday, August 14, 2021

Serial Saturday: "Clan of Outcasts" Season 3, Part 30 "The Crow Prince"



Part 30
"The Crow Prince"



Kaidan winced as the straps fastening his hands to the sides of Trev's head chafed against his skin. It was one thing to pull up memories which the person or object had recently or frequently experienced--it was quite another to try and dredge up memories that a person didn't even know they had. He could feel his Gift like a pulling sensation, dragging him deeper and deeper into the giant's psyche--but as he mentally drifted through the darkness, a glimmer of something emerged, and Kaidan focused on it, willing it back to the surface. It carried the same sensation of trying to haul a stone from the bottom of a well, but once he had enough of a sensation to cling to, Kaidan found himself plunged into a hazy scene.

The old man had grey streaks in his hair now, and more wrinkles on his face. He wagged his head sadly.
"I'm sorry, Trevon," his voice was barely audible. "It pains me... been such a joy to have you for these last years... Can't have you..."

Kaidan winced and caught himself straining to hear the words, but the memory was already so faint that the missing bits just didn't come through. Besides, he was already feeling lightheaded at the strain, and he couldn't afford to pass out and risk being buried in someone else's psyche. He held his stance and watched the memory unfold.

The old man was joined by his wife. Her hand rested upon her swollen belly. She smiled at her husband, then gazed at Kaidan--or, Trevon, as the old man had addressed him--with a sad nod. "You understand, don't you?" she asked.
Somewhere beside Kaidan, a voice said, "You fear... baby... danger... don't want..."
The man coughed, and gestured to something behind Trevon. "It is time," he said. "Juros guide you on your way."

Now they were walking, out across the empty Wilderness. Kaidan could see the couple, first in front of him, then beside him... hanging back further and further... until he was alone. On he walked, for how long, Kaidan couldn't tell, but then, through Trevon's eyes, he spotted a cluster of aspen trees he recognized. Far ahead, he could see the foundations of stone that could only be the base of the outermost defenses of this very White Castle--

A surge pulled Kaidan out of the memory, but not completely. He was aware, both of what he was witnessing inside Trev's head, and also what was happening in his physical surroundings, although he had no volition in either scenario. Mallory was standing very close to him, with a thick mass of shadows on her palm. She grabbed Kaidan's shoulder, and instead of a pulling sensation, Kaidan felt something pushing him behind, forcing itself into him at a rate that made his heart race. His skin felt numb, and Kaidan knew he was being Jacked--but how? Nothing in the records ever mentioned Mallory secretly being Abnormal. She was supposed to be Gifted--and Gifts had no effect on Abnormals. He could not resist, he could not stop her or let go of Trev's memories, as he witnessed them changing and shifting...

The scene wound backward at a great rate, all the way back to the moment Trevon set off across the wilderness. This time, the old couple weren't with him, he was all by himself. He never traveled northwest, to the White Castle. Instead, he detoured south, toward a small tower in a secluded corner of the Wilderness. A pair of knights opened the doors, and a smiling redhead in regal black robes was there to welcome him. She was Mallory; he recognized her at once.

"Brother!" she said. "You've come back to me! I've been waiting so long for you! Come in, and sit with me!" She led him into a room full of strange boxes. Kaidan saw odd colors in strange designs over the faces of the boxes, and when Trevon's eyes glanced to the corner, Kaidan saw a pair of large cages attached to the boxes with string. Judging by the configuration, and based on the research he had done, Kaidan guessed that these boxes were actually machines, which meant that this tower was Mallory's old laboratory, The Rook.

She sat Trevon into a chair, and although Kaidan saw no bonds in the memory, he detected the distinct sensation of being unable to move. Mallory set a platter on the table before him, but whether it was piled with cookies and cakes, or lined with syringes and surgical implements, he could not tell.
"Soon, it will all be over, brother," Mallory crooned, stroking his arm. Where her fingers touched, Kaidan felt the sensation of burning, of ripping and tearing under his skin. "You will be Gifted, I promise..."

"STOP!" Boomed Trevon's voice. "PLEASE! IT HURTS!"
"You'll understand.... it's over..." Kaidan could hardly hear young Mallory's voice over the blaring alarms, and the crashing and screaming coming from across the room. "Let it... break free...This is... meant to be!"

The cacophony rose to such a fevered pitch that a white light engulfed all sight and sound. The pushing ceased, and Kaidan once again saw the base of the outer walls of the White Castle. Still seeing through Trevon's eyes, he watched as Trevon climbed over the massive wall, landing in the garden behind the Castle. There were more tall shrubs and flowers to conceal himself behind, all the way to the nearest tower of the castle, which boasted an overgrown door under decades of ivy growth. Trevon wrested the door open and pushed his way inside, preparing for an indefinite period of living in secret tunnels and shadows underground for as long as it would take...

Finally, the connection broke, and so, it seemed, did Kaidan. He collapsed onto the floor, every joint and ligament lax, barely enough energy to breathe. Standing over him, modern Mallory smiled--but there was no warmth and acceptance in this smile. She waved to the side, and Kaidan heard rather than felt the purple hissing snakes approach him and wrap around his arms and body.
"Take him to the dungeons and lock him up with the others," she ordered.
"Yes, my Queen," Kamau responded, and Kaidan let his eyes close as the snakes dragged him away after their master.

Mallory turned her attention to the giantish young man sitting on a second throne besides hers. His chest rose and fell; that was good, it meant he survived the ordeal. She tenderly stroked the back of his palm, which was the size of her whole hand. Finally, his eyes opened, and he lifted his head. She let him look around, from one end of the room to the other, and then when he looked at her, she smiled.
"Welcome back," she said. "What is your name?"

He stared at her, frowning as if he didn't understand the question. Finally, he opened his mouth, and in a booming, hollow voice, he replied, "Trevon."
Her face never changed from the cool, calm grin. "And do you know who I am?" Her fingers still traced over the back of his hand.

Trevon watched her eyes, wondering why her name felt so new to him--and yet she felt as familiar as family to him. "You are Mallory," he said, then as an afterthought he added, "my sister."
Her eyes gleamed, but she remained stately and firm. "What do you remember?"

Trevon breathed deeply. Some part of him felt as though he must have been asleep for a very long time, because old memories seemed new, and new memories seemed old--but all of the narrative and explanations seemed to be there, ready to pull to the front of his mind, without any gaps. "I remember... everything," he answered.

Her hand grasped his, no longer stroking. "Do you know what you must do?" she asked.
No information had passed between them, but Trevon understood her like a brother would his sister. She'd told him what to do at one point, and his muscles remembered what his mind hadn't yet fully grasped.

"Yes, I do," he said. His memory told him to stand, and as he did so, his body began to shift and change. Feathers unfurled from his skin into large wings, and his chin lengthened and hardened into a beak, while huge talons burst from the boots he wore. Trevon, as a man-sized crow, croaked twice and took off toward the large hole near the roof of the tower, flying off into the night sky.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Edri awoke in semidarkness as the light of a single sunbeam smote her directly in the face. She blinked and shied away, prompting an aching protest from her muscles and joints, which did not appreciate the few hours of exhausted sleep she managed to catch.

As abruptly as it came, the light went out, and Edri could allow her vision to adjust.
"Is that better?" asked a voice.

It took her a moment to place it as the strange man that had shown up with the others from Gybralltyr--Polaris the Shadow. It was hard to look at him and not think of Troy toying with them all, even though Troy had dark hair and Polaris did not. But so far, he'd only been helpful, and in temperament he seemed more like Jade.

"Yes, thank you," she answered his question, and shifted to a more upright position, stretching her arms as Polaris pulled the shadow away like a curtain, once again allowing the sunlight to illuminate the room, without disrupting anyone.

On one side of the room, Risyn and Quilla curled around each other, with Risyn's robes spread underneath them. The Royal couples all slept soundly, even on the bare stone, while Lizeth, Velora, and Anahita took up the wall on the far side. Javira slept closer to the center of the room, her arms curled around her knees. It had taken a small spell from Risyn to induce her to sleep, after Kaidan didn't return from his scouting mission, and Azelie figured out that he'd gotten captured. In front of the door, Sir Landis slumbered comfortably, compared to the agony he'd been in with his wounds.

Edri sighed and pulled out a small piece of paper, upon which she had been scribbling down some notes. She glanced around the room, mentally assessing each one's Gift and abilities, and writing down possible attack positions.

Additional light streamed onto her page, and she frowned at the star-like ball of energy that was Polaris' physical form coming to hover over her shoulder. On the other side, she could see his incorporeal form, visible but intangible, peering at the page with interest. She batted aside the star, and his body flinched as if he'd been pushed. "Do you mind?" she grunted.
"That is a very detailed plan," Polaris noted, keeping his distance. "How long have you been working on it?"

Edri shrugged. "Since everyone arrived here last night," she said. "It helps me stay focused when I have to be cooped up in a cramped space like this." She glanced at his hovering form. "You're lucky you don't have to worry about taking up space."

Polaris grinned and floated up near the high ceilings of the tower room. "Being incorporeal does have its perks," he mused. "But I have to say, being able to talk with you all is something I never thought I'd missed." He hovered over each person in turn, checking in Landis, in particular. He nodded to Edri. "Your soldiers are valiant indeed, and respond well to your leadership. But," he gestured to the young knight. "Were there not two soldiers rescued last night?"

Edri nodded. "I sent Sir Roger on an errand," she said. At the curious tilt of Polaris' head, she explained, "As it turns out, he can teleport over short distances--all this time, I never even knew he was Gifted. He offered to slip outside the castle and inform Velora's lieutenant of our plan to rescue the rest of the Castle army out of prison, so that he and her wolf-pack will be ready to come to our aid."
Polaris smiled. "Ah, so Velora must have a psychic connection with animals, much like Brinley and Bronn."
Edri frowned. "Who?"

Polaris gestured to Jaran. "Someone they met in a place they called Wildhaven. She knew of the portal that connected this realm to Gybralltyr, and she has a bear who is her companion."

Edri nodded. "Ah, I see; yes, Velora is sort of like that, except that she can speak to and command all the wolves in the Forest. That's what makes her such an effective Warden--her eyes are literally everywhere." She sighed and scribbled down another note. "And we're going to need all the help we can get."

More sunlight streamed into the tower, and people began to stir, groaning as feeling return to their limbs and reminded them just how uncomfortable it was really to be laying on stone. Only Quilla seemed none the worse, and Edri noticed how there seemed to be plates of armor underneath her that seemed to melt into her skin on sight, as she sat up and stretched with a yawn.

"How do you fare, little sister?" Risyn asked immediately, rousing himself and picking up his cloak.
Quilla smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "Happy, now that we are together again."

Edri smiled to herself as she thought about how differently the normally-stoic Mage interacted with his sister. Suddenly, all of his fear and his foreboding nature, and especially his withdrawn attitude made much more sense, as he was living in constant fear that every time something went wrong at the Castle, it somehow made it more impossible that he would ever see his sister again. Now that fear was gone, and he was a completely different person.

"Uugghhh!!" Jaran roused himself with a groan. "Please tell me somebody has a plan to get our throne room back--or at least a way for us to take the Southern tower!"
"Why?" his brother snorted, "so you can hide out in your bedroom instead of down in a hole like this?"
Jaran glared at Beren, and made a flicking motion with his fingers. Beren's whole body jerked. "Ow! Hey! Watch how you use that Gift of yours--you almost woke my wife!" He wrapped his strong arms protectively around Zayra's slender form.

Jaran drew the knife, summoning Polaris into it.

Edri nodded to the King. "I have a plan, sire." She consulted her notes and tactfully led those invoved in the discussion away from those who were still sleeping.
"Based on what I know of the attack on the garrison," Edri began. "I know that the soldiers brought all the castle knights into the dungeons to lock them up, which leads me to conclude that the rest of this castle, as well as the whole garrison, will be teeming with enemy forces. We will need to free the knights if we're going to stand a chance of getting the upper hand over Mallory and her goons." She gestured to Beren. "That's where you and Anahita come in. You'll shield us with ice and water, while we'll need Javira's roots to rip open the dungeons and let the knights out, while keeping any attackers at bay."

Jaran nodded. "Tristan is also waiting outside. If need be, he can blow in on a moment's notice and prevent the birds from flying."
Edri added that note to her book. "That's good."

Polaris the star appeared over Jaran's shoulder, and bobbed around. Jaran nodded to it. "Polaris," he said, and the Shadow appeared in their midst.
"What about the Key?" he asked, pointing toward the sleeping princess. "It must be protected at all cost. It is good that it is no longer near the Gate--but we cannot underestimate the lengths the Queen will go to acquire it, if she knew it was here..."

"Quilla and I can stay here and ensure that will not happen," Azelie declared, earning a nod of affirmation from the young girl. "I will make sure no one comes near this room, and if anyone gets inside--"

"I can shield us," Quilla finished, clenching her fist and producing a crystalline gauntlet around her hand. "No one is getting through this."

In the brief pause, as everyone mused over their role in this desperate plan, a small voice groaned, "Kaidan?"

Velora and Azelie turned to see Javira sit up, rubbing her tear-stained face and looking around. "Kaidan!"
Azelie came over to comfort her. "Shh, Javira--Kaidan hasn't returned--"

Javira shrugged her off and struggled to her feet. "I can hear him! He's calling... in my head!" She frowned. "How are you--" her voice broke off as she received an answer that made her flinch in alarm. "He says... h-he said Mallory Jacked his Gift!"
"How?" Jaran and Polaris demanded at the same time.

"I thought she was just Gifted, not an Abnormal!" Beren added.

Javira frowned in concentration as she listened to what her brother was saying. "One of her agents, a man named Kamau, captured him in the Library when he was retrieving his notes, just after the dose of tincture had worn off--"

"Oh no," Lizeth murmured.

"--and he brought Kaidan to Mallory, where she forced him to... What?" She listened to a lengthy explanation and relayed it to the others. "She had Trev restrained in the throne room, and she knew about Kaidan's Gift, so at first, she was just using him to pull Trev's memories of his past, at least of how he got from Gybralltyr to The Realm... but then... in the middle of all that... She--" Her face paled and she gasped. "She warped Kaidan's Gift to force other memories into Trev's head, so that he identified her as his sister, and there was something she wanted him to do, and she said..." she gulped. "He heard her say that she will make Trev Gifted."

"Impossible!" Edri snapped, glaring toward the door. "One mortal can't have both the ability to Jack and the ability to bestow Gifts like an Angel!"

Polaris wavered in the air above their heads. "You underestimate the extent of Mallory's obsession with all things related to Juros and Justicia," he said softly. Coming to hover in their midst, he said softly, "Something you should know about the mansion known as The Roque, where Tessa and I created a haven near the ancient site of Gybralltyr: it was once the site of Mallory's experiments, she called it The Rook."

Javira nodded. "Kaidan said he'd read about references to both places, but didn't know they were the same."

Polaris nodded to her. "Mallory was in the midst of performing an experiment wherein she tried to extract the abilities from an Angel and a Shadow she'd captured when Tessa and I stormed her laboratory and destroyed the machine."

"That's where Kaidan says Mallory altered Trev's memories, made him think that she was just being kind to him, that she already had these abilities that she was ready to grant to him," Javira responded.

Polaris shook his head. "She never finished the experiment. Tessa and I tried to stop her, but as we were breaking things and attacking, the machine backfired, and in the explosion, she emerged with her shapeshifting abilities, and both Mallory and her subject--whom I can only assume is this Trev you speak of--disappeared. Tessa wanted to take the site of such vileness and turn it into a place of hope, and so she founded The Roque."

Javira nodded her head and passed along Kaidan's message, "He says the backfiring machine augmented her existing Gift to such an extent that she is impervious to even his attempts to search her mind--almost like an Abnormal's resilience against being affected by Gifts--and in that case, the Knife," she gestured to the gleaming blade in Jaran's hand, "is really the only thing that could be used against her."

"But how?" Jaran asked.
Polaris came to stand next to him. "You will know, when the time comes," he answered. "It is forged by Juros himself, and so Juros will guide its use."

"So now she's got Trev doing her bidding," Anahita spoke up, coming to join them and rubbing her head. "But what about Damaris? Did Kaidan see him at all?"

Javira nodded. "One of her lackeys must have had an ice-manipulating Gift, because when Kaidan was brought into Mallory's presence, he saw Damaris frozen in a block of solid ice."

Anahita clapped her hands over her face, and Azelie and Zayra both embraced her.

Risyn stepped forward. "I will rescue the Phoenix," he said, using their alternate name for Damaris. "I can use my spells and Darklight magic to keep myself hidden, and I will be able to get him out of there while she is distracted by her false brother's assignment."

Javira nodded to the Mage. "Kaidan says look out for Kamau--he can manifest large snakes of purple light, and they can bite and coil like physical snakes. He moves silently, and he is committed to following Mallory."

The Mage nodded.

Azelie twitched as if something had pricked her, and said, "Oh!" Then she frowned and turned to Edri. "I... I think Sir Roger sends word that he is outside the dungeon now, and in the guise of a Crow Soldier."
Edri frowned. "Outside? Why didn't he come right back here when he finished his errand?"

Azelie listened for a moment and nodded. "He said he misjudged his teleportation distance, and by now they've seen him and taken for granted that he is one of theirs, so if he teleported now, they would notice his absence and figure out that we were hiding."

The Commander rolled her eyes. "Well, I suppose we should get into position and rendezvous with him now, since there's nothing else we can do."

Just then, Landis stood with a noisy yawn and asked sleepily, "What's everyone standing around for?"
Edri took him aside and filled him in, while Jaran looked around and said, "Does everybody understand what to do?"
Everyone in the small room nodded.

Jaran glanced to the Shadow standing beside him. "Polaris, can you Shadow-jump us to the location Edri gives you?"

Polaris nodded. "It will be a stretch to Shadow-jump with so many, but yes, if you need me to, I can."

Lizeth looked up from digging through the pack of vials hanging from her shoulder and said, "While we're on the subject of traveling unseen," she said. "I'm going to need more tinctures if we're going into battle."

Risyn flourished his cloak in preparation to leave. "Tell me what to look for, and I can bring as many as I can carry when I rejoin you after rescuing Damaris."
Lizeth nodded to him with a smile.

"Everybody hold hands in a circle," Jaran instructed. "It's going to be a quick trip, and we don't want to leave anyone behind."

Azelie and Zayra bid farewell to their husbands, and Lizeth and Landis joined the circle once their side conversations finished.

"Juros protect you," Quilla said as her brother wrapped himself in an invisibility spell.
"And you," came the vanished Risyn's reply.
>>>>>>>>>>>>

The parade grounds of the White Castle was a mess of feathers, carrion, bonfires, and branches. Soldiers lounged and ate, complaining about how hot they were in the blazing sun, wishing they could swap rotations with the soldiers assigned to patrol the interior.
"Ever since Kamau found that one fugitive," one soldier grumbled to another, "they've been scouring the whole place top to bottom."

His fellow guardsman chuckled. "Wherever those rats are hiding," he grunted, "we'll find 'em!"
A third soldier chuckled darkly. "And maybe the Queen'll let us have a little fun with 'em before we kill 'em all!"

A captain marched out of the side entrance, with direct access to the dungeon corridor. "Attention!" he barked, rousing the sloppy soldiers from their boredom. "Time to rotate shifts, I need five men to guard the dungeon gate!" He glanced around the courtyard, pointing at the soldiers he wanted. "You, and you... I'll take you, and you, and..." His gaze rested on a burly soldier who looked as if he was ready to burst his uniform--perhaps he needed to change his shape so that his armor fit a little better. "You," the captain decided. Should anything happen, it would be good to have someone intimidating on site.
The chosen few stumbled through the gate ahead of him, into the smaller courtyard that led to the dungeon gates.

He had barely entered the space when he smacked into the burly guard, who had stopped in front of him.
"What are you doing?" Barked the captain. "Get a move on!"

"CHARGE!" bellowed a voice, and the dungeon yard erupted into chaos.

A wall of water swept out of the dungeon gate, slamming into the soldiers who didn't get out of the way fast enough. The captain recovered just enough of his wits to scramble for the gate back out onto the parade grounds, just ahead of a seething, grasping tangle of vines that whipped out of the ground itself, grabbing ankles and bodies.
"Attack!" howled the captain, "We're under attack!"

Into the frenzy of black-garbed soldiers plunged the Outcasts and their allies. Jaran with his lightning sent of bolts that sent them jerking and flopping hither and yon, while Edri dispensed with humanity altogether, transforming into a lion with a terrible roar, who ran and snarled, ripping with tooth and claw.

Anahita and Beren busily blocked off wide areas of the courtyard with walls of ice. Lizeth couldn't use her bluefire to fight, but she took a telekinesis tincture that helped with restraining the soldiers and leveling the field at least.
"That's interesting," she remarked as she tossed aside some soldiers heading toward Edri with a net. Using telekinesis, she wrapped them up in their own ropes, and laid them aside.

Beren sent a wave to knock a few more soldiers off their feet. "What is?"

Lizeth kept the calm of a practiced scientist in spite of the chaos around her. "I see birds in the trees, and flying around the rooftops," she said, "and men on the ground, but I don't see the men turning into birds and flying away, and I don't see any birds landing and turning into men to help them." She waved her hand to push away a lunging attacker, but he didn't slow. Beren blasted him with a waterspout. Lizeth looked down at her pack. "Blast, I'm down to my non-combat Gifts," she grunted.

"What do you think the thing with the soldiers and the birds means?" Beren prompted.

"I can't say for certain," Lizeth said. "But it could mean that the shapeshifting trait is exclusive to Mallory, and so when she isn't aware or isn't involved, they can't do the shifting themselves."
A thick murder of angry crows gathered above their heads, ready to dive in--when a large fireball sailed into their midst, scattering the croaking birds almost as quickly as they had merged.

Beren turned to see where the fireball had come from, and cheered as Damaris launched from the front steps of the castle in fiery fury.

"I'm back!" he whooped as he launched jets of flame in all directions.


Risyn emerged from his invisibility spell right beside Lizeth. He handed her a bag of clinking glass vials. "The Queen has learned of the attack," he said. "You will need every weapon in your arsenal."

On the other end of the courtyard, Velora and Javira watched as the crows began dropping and landing in the form of bigger and stronger black-garbed soldiers, while the ones they'd injured and restrained began shrinking into crow form and flopping away to safety.
Velora scowled at the escaping crows.

"Look!" Javira cried, pointing to the castle behind them.

Standing on the balcony of the Southern tower was the Crow Queen herself, gesturing to the battle, busily turning the tide in her favor.
Velora nodded to Javira, "Get down to the dungeon and free your brother and the other soldiers," she said. "I've got this."
Javira nodded and slipped away, trailing her roots and vines behind her.

Velora glared up at Mallory. "So, you want to watch?" she seethed under her breath. "I'll give you a show!" She threw back her head and howled at the top of her lungs.


Immediately, a chorus of howls filled the air in response, and wolves of every shape and color leaped through gaps in the wall, and even over the walls themselves, launching and snapping at crows and soldiers alike. The blood-soaked melee increased in a frenzy of fur and feathers, but as the Outcasts were wearying of using their Gifts to push the Crow forces out, their own reinforcements joined with fresh vigor and full strength.

Jaran fended back a pair of Crow soldiers in his corner, but just when he was about to unleash a jolt to immobilize them, a huge wave crashed over his shoulders, knocking everyone off their feet, where they landed in a coughing, sodden heap. Jaran wiped his face and spluttered at the person responsible, "Ana!" he flexed his fingers, but the quivering tingle in his skin warned him that using his Gift in this state would be almost as detrimental to him as it would be to the soldiers who had him cornered.
Jaran reached into the sheath at his side and shouted, "Polaris!"

The Shadow, in star form, appeared in front of his face, and an invisible concussive blast sent the soldiers tumbling and skidding against the far wall.
Jaran staggered to his feet and tried to fling some of the water off himself.

Polaris all but ignored him, staring intently on another part of the battle.
"My liege," he said respectfully, "What is he doing here?"

He pointed, and Jaran identified the burly, grizzled captain in the dark armor of the crow soldiers, fighting bare-headed and teleporting from one end of the fray to the other.

"I suppose that's Sir Roger," he answered, "the soldier that Edri said could teleport. He's been in service to the White Castle since my father was king. Funny, I never had the least idea he was Gifted, either."
Polaris seemed transfixed by the sight, and it baffled Jaran. "Why do you ask?"

The Shadow shook his head, and stared at Jaran in utter disbelief. "You mean you don't know?" he gasped.
Jaran frowned. "Know what?"
"That man," Polaris pointed to Sir Roger, "is no mere knight, young King--that's Juros, Himself!"
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