Valiant: Tales From The Drift

[Tails #10: What Is Left Unsaid]

Log Date: 10/28/12763

Data Sources: Jazel Jaskolka; Lysanne Arrignis

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Biosphere Access Deck

10:49am SGT

“They cut short the assignment schedule?” I repeat, wringing out my hair in one of the changing rooms near the access point. “But why? Was it something we did?”

“No, Ms. Arrignis. I don’t believe CURSE’s decision to cut short the Drift’s assignment schedule has anything to do with the crew’s actions.” Dandy answers, her voice muffled by the door between us. It sounds like she’s helping put away the gear I used for taking care of the chores in the ocean biome. “I have been given no more information than you, but were I to hazard a guess, I believe that CURSE’s decision can be traced back to events on the galactic stage, particularly where it regards the resurgent Challengers.”

“The whole thing with Songbird teaming up with the Masklings?” I guess as I rinse myself one more time to get the last of the salt off, then turn off the water and start toweling off. “I get why they’re worried about that — I think everybody’s worried about it — but what are they expecting us to do about it? We’re arcanologists, not soldiers. It’s not like they can pull us off the assignment schedule and expect us to go fight Challengers. That’d be a suicide mission for people like us.”

“I don’t believe they expect us to do anything about it.” Dandy replies as I flick on the air dryer in the rinse stall, the water on the floor slowly draining away. “It is very likely that the CURSE administration has no interest in us beyond the fact that we are in possession of the morphox. It is only because of that fact that they have cut our assignment schedule short, so they can have us report back to the CURSE HQ faster, and in so doing, bring the morphox with us so they can attempt to recruit her.”

“Are they really that desperate for new recruits?” I ask, patting away the last of the water on my skin with the towel, then pulling open the bin that’s got my dry clothes. “Doesn’t CURSE already have a pretty extensive roster of Peacekeepers? It should be more than enough to take down the resurgent Challengers. There’s only a few of them, from what I’ve seen on the news.”

“One would imagine so, yet they still haven’t been captured or killed.” Dandy agrees from outside the stall. “The fact that the resurgent Challengers now have the backing of the Maskling government may be why CURSE is so interested in recruiting powerful new allies. The Maskling-Challenger alliance means the resurgency now has allies, resources, and safe locations they can fall back on, and that will make eradicating them much harder. CURSE may be preparing for a more intense, drawn-out conflict.”

I can’t help frowning at that while I start getting my clothes back on. “I don’t like it.” I say as I shuffle my way back into my jeans. “A new war is the last thing this galaxy needs. And I don’t want us to be a part of it. I just want to travel the galaxy and discover new species, dammit. Not deliver some naïve soul-munching fox to my employers so they can use her as a weapon against a bunch of disgraced heroes that don’t know when to quit.”

“If it’s any consolation, I do not believe it will be a ‘war’ in the traditional sense of war, with great fleets and armies and high casualty counts.” Dandy offers. “Any conflict between the resurgent Challengers and CURSE will likely take the form of a shadow war. Isolated confrontations between small groups of powerful individuals and struggles over political influence and the media narrative. I find it unlikely that we will be involved in something of that nature — our involvement, at the very best, will be limited to Kayenta’s engagement with the issue, should she choose to accept CURSE’s offer.”

“That’s another thing.” I say as I pull my shirt on, and push the door of the stall open, stepping out. “What’s gonna happen if Kayenta takes CURSE up on their offer? They’ll want her to stay at the HQ so they can train her and start using her for their Peacekeeper assignments. That’s not going to go over well with Jazel.”

“Perhaps not.” Dandy says, holding a hand out to take the wetsuit I’d worn while doing the chores in the ocean biome. “But despite how different she is from us, she is still an individual with the right to make her own decisions. She is not obligated to remain with us simply because he wishes it so.” Pausing in putting the wetsuit on a hangar, she looks at me. “Jazel understands this, correct?”

I grimace. Any decent, mature person would understand everyone is allowed the right to make their own decisions. Jazel likely understands that in theory, but emotion and reason don’t always play nice with each other. His attachment to Kayenta may not allow him to see that objectively, or be reasonable about it. “I’ll talk to him about it. Get his temperature on it and make sure he knows that Kayenta’s allowed to make her own decisions, regardless of what he wants out of her.” It’s not a conversation I’m looking forward to.

“Well, if you should need help with it, just let me know.” Dandy says. “My social prowess is limited, but I will assist in whatever way I can.”

I smile at that. “I appreciate the offer, Dandy. I think I’ll handle this one on my own, though. It’s a sensitive subject for Jazel, so it’s going to require a gentle touch.” Wringing my hair out one last time, I look towards the hovercart full of maintenance tools needing to be rinsed off. “Alright, let’s see about hosing these down…”

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

Dandelion Drift: Lab 2

1:18pm SGT

“Well, that won’t do.” I mutter to myself, standing in front of the terrarium where I was keeping the spirit blooms. Though they were frail and wilting before, they’ve now taken hold in the soil and multiplied, and are now starting to cram against the walls of the terrarium. After Kayenta extracted the portion of my soul that was trapped in the Viscori knife and put it into the terrarium, the blooms’ growth exploded. I’m either going to need to get a bigger terrarium for them, or I’ll need to relocate some of them to the biosphere.

“Right.” I say, straightening up and thumbing my chin, looking around the lab. All the other terrariums are already taken up with other samples or occupants, but as far as I’m aware, the spirit blooms are largely benign. They don’t seem to spread unless they’re fed bits and pieces of a soul; they likely wouldn’t crowd out native species unless we started making a habit of regularly feeding them souls. They also didn’t seem to have any natural defenses, so I’d have to take that into account when figuring out where to place them. Herbivores and insects could easily decimate them, since the blooms didn’t reproduce unless they were fed soul matter, and that was a lot harder to come by than sunlight or water.

“I wonder how you guys survived on Vissengard.” I say to myself as I turn and head over to the lab’s closet, the door spiraling open so I can step inside and start digging through the shelves for potting cups. “You guys were everywhere in that forest. I figured with how juicy your petals are, the bugs and birds would be all over you.” Pulling down a stack of potting cups, I turn to step back into the lab and jump when I see Lysanne standing there in the doorway. I scramble to catch the potting cups as they bounce in my hands. “Gah! Lysanne! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Who were you talking to?” she asks, reaching forward and steadying the stack of potting cups with one hand, and raising an eyebrow at me.

“Th-the flowers.” I stutter as the stack stabilizes, and she steps out of the way so I can step back into the lab.

Lysanne smiles. “Talking to the plants again?” she says as she follows me over to the table with the terrarium on it. “Is it because they’re misbehaving? You practically threw a fit at the strawberry plants when they wouldn’t stop sending out stolons in the garden.”

“The strawberry plants know what they did, and they know they deserved getting replanted in an area where they wouldn’t overrun the rest of the garden.” I say stubbornly, starting to unstack the potting cups. “It was for the greater good. Same thing goes for the watermelons, the greedy water hogs.”

“I should see if we can get Dandy to make some more of that soft-serve strawberry ice cream, come to think of it.” she remarks, watching as I line up the cups. Her eyes go the the terrarium and the spirit blooms within. “Are those…?”

“Vissengard spirit blooms, yeah.” I say, heading back to the closet so I can grab the bag of potting soil, and drag it out into the lab. “They’ve outgrown their current enclosure, so I’m gonna trim them, and see if I can grow them from clippings. I might see if we can introduce them to the temperate biome.”

“Let’s not go around planting them in the biosphere quite yet.” Lysanne cautions. “We want to know a bit more about them before we go and introduce them to a new ecosystem. Last thing we need is for these things to go wild and throw one of the biomes out of whack after all the time we’ve spent balancing them.”

“Yeah, I’ve been studying them. They seem pretty benign.” I say, unrolling the top of the bag so I can grab the trowel inside, and start ladling out potting mix into the cups on the table. “I’ll see if I can find them in a botany index so we can read up on their care needs and figure out what conditions they’ll do best in.”

“Alright.” Lysanne says, tucking her hands in her pockets. “I stopped in because I wanted to let you know that CURSE cut short the assignment schedule they gave us after Vissengard. After we wrap up this current assignment, the Drift is to report back to the CURSE HQ.”

I keep on filling up the potting cups, but start to slow down when I realize what Lysanne’s words mean. “…why did they cut the assignment schedule short? Did we do something we weren’t supposed to?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think it’s because of us. It’s because of the resurgent Challengers.”

“Okay…” I say slowly, putting the trowel back in the bag of potting soil and starting to roll it up again. “…but what do the Challengers have to do with us?”

Lysanne raises an eyebrow. “Think about it, Jazel. You know why CURSE wanted us to come back to the HQ in the first place.”

I’m quiet as I think back to the conversation that Lysanne and I had in the marsh biome. Taking one of the potting cups, I start to dig my finger into the soil to create a little divot where one of the cuttings could be rooted. “Do they really think they can get Kaya to fight for them?”

Lysanne shrugs. “They do. I don’t know if that’s a realistic expectation for them to have, but we should start considering the possibility that she may agree to it.”

“She knows nothing about the state of the galaxy.” I point out, poking divot after divot into the row of potting cups. “Everything she knows about the Challengers comes from the anime, and she’s not even through the first season of that yet. CURSE is going to ask her to fight their war for them, but what she wants is to find a way to survive that doesn’t involve eating the souls of other mortals. She won’t be interested in being someone else’s tool.”

“Do you say that because you know that, or because it’s what you want to believe?” Lysanne asks, her eyes on me though I’m refusing to look at her. “And you know that CURSE is going to offer her what you’ve already offered her, except they can dedicate more people and resources to that research. I’m just saying that you should start thinking about the fact that she might take them up on that offer, and accepting that it’s a possibility that she’ll be going a separate way than we are.”

I don’t reply, focusing on opening the lid of the terrarium. I don’t know how to feel about it; logically speaking, I know Lysanne’s right. There’s a chance that Kayenta will take CURSE’s offer and become one of their Peacekeepers, and if that happens, we’ll be going our separate ways. But the rest of me doesn’t want her to go, and because of that, doesn’t want to accept that she could go. I want to pretend like it would never happen, even though it might.

“Jazel?” Lysanne says, still looking at me.

“Yeah, I heard you.” I say quietly, taking the clippers as I reach into the terrarium. “I just don’t think what CURSE is asking her to do will make her happy.”

Lysanne leans a little to one side, as if trying to get me to look at her. “Are you worried that she won’t be happy? Or that you won’t be happy if she leaves?”

I think back to three months ago, when Lysanne asked me a similar question, phrasing two truths as if they were diametric opposites. As if it had to be one or the other, that they couldn’t both be true at the same time. I remember how I’d answered with a question of my own.

“Can I say yes to both?” I ask softly, winding my fingers through the spirit blooms, staring at their rich blue petals.

Lysanne looks down at that, staring at the potting cups lined up on the table. “A lot of a relationship is about hanging onto a person and staying loyal to them, Jazel. But a big part of it, one that people don’t talk about as often, is learning to let go of them when they’re ready to move on.” She fiddles with one of the potting cups as she speaks. “I’m not saying she will leave right now. But even if she doesn’t leave right now, she may choose to leave in the future. And even if you don’t have to deal with that when we visit the CURSE HQ, you may have to deal with it in the future beyond that, one day.” The potting cup falls still as she stops fiddling with it. “Loss is part of love. Always has been, and always will be. I just want you to know that ahead of time, because it’s a truth that a lot of people have to find out the hard way.”

I have the clippers in the terrarium, resting on the stem of one of the spirit blooms. But I can’t bring myself to squeeze them shut and snip the stem. I’m worried that if I cut the bloom and separate from the rest of them, it might not survive. After a moment of struggling with it, I press the clippers shut, severing the stem and catching the bloom with my other hand.

“I know.” I say quietly, just holding it for now, not planting it yet. There’s more I could say, but I’m not sure I need to say it. I think Lysanne can read everything she needs to know from those two words, and the rest is left unsaid, because it doesn’t need to be said. We’ve known each other long enough that two words can sometimes say more than an entire conversation would.

For her part, Lysanne just nods, knowing that I get it. She tucks her hands back in her pockets, turning and leaving the table, then pauses halfway to the door. “I’ll be making dinner tonight. You want to watch an episode of Courageous with Kayenta and Dandy after that? We’ll have dessert like usual.”

I force a weak smile. “That sounds nice.”

She nods. “See you then. Good luck with getting the spirit blooms replanted.” With that, she heads to the door and steps out, letting it spiral shut behind her. After she’s gone, I look down at the spirit bloom in my hand, separated from the rest of its kind and needing to be placed in one of the potting cups if it was to survive.

But I didn’t want to let go of it quite yet.

The News

“Thank you for the weather, Thompson — let’s hope that gamma ray burst doesn’t cause too much trouble for the Vestkong System. Now, for our next segment, we go now to Shina Sothsby, who’s coming to us live from the CURSE press hall. The organization, which recently released a statement on the death of Millican Crane, called a press conference today, presumably to speak further on the death of Mr. Crane. Shina?”

“Thank you, Clarence. As you can see here, I’m standing in the press briefing room at the CURSE HQ, where Administrator Tenji is set to arrive any moment now. Rumors of Songbird’s involvement in Echo’s death have placed a lot of attention on law enforcement, and particularly on CURSE. The galaxy has questions, but so far, security forces have been slow to provide answers, citing ongoing investigations. Oh — it appears that the Administrator is arriving to the press room now. Let’s go to them now.”

…

…

“Hello everyone, and good day. I’m glad to see you all here; for those who may not know me and for the cameras, I am CURSE Administrator Tenji. Now, I’m sure you all have many questions; I’m going to ask that you hold them until the end of the conference.

“I convened this conference today because over the past week, CURSE has been receiving a lot of questions about Songbird, Echo, and the resurgent Challengers. I’m sure the Vaunted have also been receiving the same questions. We hope to answer some of those questions today, in letting the public know what we are doing to address the Challenger threat.

“To address the most recent and pressing question on everyone’s minds right now: no, we do not know for sure whether Songbird killed Echo. The investigation is still ongoing. What I will say, however, is that given the evidence we have seen from the night of the assassination, Songbird is presently the primary suspect. His presence at the scene of the crime, along with his presence at the Shinobe Kibe starport bombing and the battle at the Challenger Museum, means that he is our first and foremost priority. Both CURSE and the Vaunted remain committed to arresting him, and bringing him before the court to answer for his actions. Even now, CURSE’s dedicated surveillance network is analyzing the known movements of both Songbird and the Dussel Mercforce, in an effort to anticipate their next move.

“Second, we wanted to convene this press conference to reach out to many of the former Challengers that are currently in the resettlement program. As you all may be aware, one of the stipulations of shutting down the Challenger program fifteen years ago was that a resettlement program be created for the Challengers that were willing to retire voluntarily. These Challengers were to receive aliases and new lives so they could start over fresh, and be given a chance to reintegrate as productive members of society. After what we have seen with Echo’s assassination, CURSE has reason to believe that the resurgent Challengers, these lawless rogues, may intend to track down retired Challengers, and either try to recruit them into their rebellion, or kill them if they refuse.”

[audible gasping and murmuring]

“For obvious reasons, this is very concerning to everyone here at CURSE. The resettlement agreement was intended to give Challengers a safe off-ramp out of the corruption of the Challenger program, and help resocialize them, giving them a second chance to lead productive lives. It was a success for a majority of the Challengers that elicited to enter into the agreement — nowadays, many retired Challengers live quiet lives. Echo was one of those Challengers, and though he never needed the resettlement agreement, he still continued on to live a life that had a positive impact on the community he settled in. And now that positive impact has been cut short by the actions of an assassin that did not think twice about the damage they were doing to the community by taking his life.

“This is what we here at CURSE are desperate to prevent. We do not want more incidents like what happened with Echo, where good lives are cut short before their time. I speak now to all the retired Challengers out there, who have remade their lives over the last fifteen years and have done their best to live honestly and play by the rules: if one of these resurgent Challengers reaches out to you, contact your local authorities immediately, and then contact CURSE right after that. Your safety is paramount to us, but we cannot be everywhere at once, and we cannot help you if you do not reach out to us. If needed, CURSE can take you in and protect you. All you need to do is give us a call.”

“Administrator, if I may—”

“Hold on just a moment — I’m not done yet. Like I said, please hold your questions until the end of the conference. I will answer what I can. Now, with that out of the way, I’m going to outline the steps that CURSE will be taking to work with governments at the local and regional level to track down and eliminate these resurgent Challengers…”

Event Log: Lysanne Arrignis

Dandelion Drift: Kitchen

8:13pm SGT

“How did the talk with Jazel go?” Dandy asks, pulling a set of bowls out of the cabinet.

I use my hip to bump shut the door to the freezer, since I’ve got a tub of ice cream in each hand. “It… went.” I reply, setting the tubs down on the counter and opening the lids to give it time to soften up. “He wants to believe, very badly, that Kayenta will stay with us if given a choice between us and CURSE. I told him that he should consider the possibility that she might not want to stay; that learning to let someone go was also part of a relationship.”

Dandy turns her head towards me, her digital-blue eyes fixing on me. “He and Kayenta are in a relationship?”

“What? No!” I say quickly, digging through the cutlery drawer for the ice cream scoop. “I meant like… relationship in a generalized sense. Friends, family, acquaintances. He and Kayenta don’t have a romantic relationship.”

“Yet.” Dandy says, turning to the fridge to dig around for cherries.

I glance over my shoulder to give Dandy a look. These little moments of understated humor are new, but becoming increasingly common ever since she was jailbroken. “I think you’re growing your sense of humor, Dandy.”

She shrugs as she sets a jar of cherries on the counter. “I mean, I’m merely pointing out a potential eventuality. Jazel has a clear interest in her, and we have observed that she is curious about him. There is a not-insignificant probability that the two will commence a romantic engagement, given continued exposure to each other. Assuming she does in fact remain with us.”

“Wish I could reduce love to percentages and probabilities like you do.” I remark, taking one of the bowls and starting to scoop ice cream into it. “It’d be a lot more simple that way.”

“I merely make calculations based off observed and commonly accepted factors in organic behavior.” Dandy says, opening the jar of cherries. “My understanding is that the concept of love entails more than just behavioral probabilities, and can be highly unstable and difficult to predict.”

“Doesn’t seem to have stopped you from trying.” I say with a small smirk. “Are we making up a bowl for Milor, or is he skipping out on us again?”

“I believe that, if given the choice, the Deputy would request a glass of whiskey for his dessert selection.” Dandy says, starting to fork out cherries into the bowls I’ve filled so far. “Not that he’ll join us, or ever does join us, whenever we watch Courageous in the evening. I believe he wishes to preserve the impression that he is an adult, and the anime does not fall within the category of standard ‘adult’ viewing material.”

I roll my eyes, scooping out ice cream for the last bowl. “What, so the rest of us aren’t adults because we like to enjoy a show created for young teens? Please. Milor’s just a wuss that doesn’t know good content when he sees it.”

“I seem to recall that you took a different stance when we were first starting the tradition.” Dandy says as she forks more cherries into the bowls. “You blew it off as a kids’ show and tried to skip out on the pilot episode until Jazel pressured you into watching it with the rest of us.”

“Yes, well that doesn’t count.” I say, dropping the ice cream scoop in the dishwasher and closing up the tubs of ice cream. “I came to my senses, as you can tell.”

“Then perhaps we should offer Milor to join us again, instead of simply assuming that he will turn us down?” Dandy proposes, closing the lid on the cherries and tucking them back in the fridge.

“I would if I thought he would join us.” I say, putting the ice cream back in the freezer. “But you’ve seen how he’s been glued to the news over the last week or so. The man can’t stop checking his phone and every time I catch a glimpse of his screen, he’s always reading some article about Echo’s assassination. It’s weird, because he’s such a backworld redneck that loves his booze almost as much as he loves his gun, but then you catch him glued to the news whenever something major happens. You remember the Wisconsin riot earlier this month? He couldn’t keep his eyes off his phone for more than five minutes. And that went on for days.”

“I had noticed that much of the data traffic being routed through the Drift’s relays and into independent onboard devices was coming from news sites, but I assumed that was because you and Jazel had research you were working on.” Dandy says, sticking spoons in the bowls and then picking up two of them. I pick up the other two, and we head for the door. “I suppose we can instead attribute that to Milor.”

“Jazel can barely be arsed to pay attention to the news, and I can only watch it for so long before I get depressed by all the shit happening in the galaxy.” I say as we step out into the hall and start making our way to the common room. “So yeah, Milor’s really the only one that could be responsible for the spike in that kind of data traffic.”

“I would recommend that we inquire about it, but I seem to recall that he has a habit of deflecting the subject whenever it’s raised.” Dandy remarks as the door to the common room spirals open, and we step in.

“Yeah, have you noticed that he’s been a little evasive recen— hey, what are you doing?!” I take a few steps forward as I see that Jazel’s sprawled out on the couch, and Kayenta’s slouched on the floor next to him, one arm resting on the couch cushion as she floats her fingers in the air above Jazel’s face. Her silver ears twitch towards us when I call to her, and her head turns towards us, those orange eyes fixing on me. She raises her other hand to her mouth, putting a finger to her lips and making a soft shushing sound before she turns her attention back to Jazel.

“He’s tired.” she says softly, slowly grazing a finger over one of the thin scar marks on his cheeks. “I don’t think he slept well last night.”

We make our way around the couches, setting down the bowls on the coffee table. Kayenta’s wearing one of the sets of cargo shorts and the tshirts we got her; though it’s been a while since our shopping trip, it’s still a little strange to see her looking so… modern. “Is he sick?” I ask, leaning down and brushing away some of his hair so I can place the back of my hand to his forehead. “It’s only a little after eight. Even when tired, that’s a little early to be falling asleep.”

“No, not sick. I would smell it if he was.” Kayenta says, folding her arms on the couch and resting her chin on them, staring at Jazel. “I think he has nightmares some nights. From all the lives trapped within his soul.”

“If I may, Ms. Arrignis? I can perform a cursory non-touch scan.” Dandy says from where she’s standing at my shoulder.

I nod, standing out of the way so she can step forward and lean down over Jazel. While she’s doing that, I look to Kayenta. “I knew the memories were a problem after we stuffed his soul back in him two months ago, but he hadn’t said anything about it since then. I thought he had gotten it under control.”

“You can’t control dreams.” Kayenta says, one of her fuzzy ears flicking idly. “The memories come and go unbidden. The same thing happens to me when I hibernate; the memories of the souls I’ve eaten sometimes visit me as I slumber.”

“I do not see anything wrong with him.” Dandy says, straightening up. “Circulation and respiration seem to be normal, temperature is a little high, but the couch is also warm, so it may be due to the fact that he’s been lying here a while. As Kayenta said, he is probably just tired.”

Jazel shifts on the couch, perhaps woken by all of us talking around him, but he doesn’t come to right away. He lets out a little mumbling sound, rubbing his face into the pillow he’s got his head on. Kayenta, seeing him stir, unfolds one of her arms and reaches out again, her fingertips tracing over the scars on his cheek. “Hello, my little witchling.” she murmurs. “Sleep well?”

I don’t know why, but something about that — the way she touches him, the way she talks to him — kicks off a flare of jealousy in my chest. I want to smack her hand away from him, tell her to stop murmuring to him like that, calling him pet names instead of using his actual name. Disgruntled, I turn to Dandy and focus on her, so I can fight the urge to swat Kayenta’s fluffy ears. “You want to get the show pulled up? The ice cream will start to melt at this rate.”

“Certainly.” Dandy says, stepping away to face the window-wall of the common room. As the panes start to turn black, switching over to theater mode, Jazel finally opens his eyes. He stares for a moment at Kayenta, then looks around until he sees me standing over him.

“Sumthin’ goin’ on?” he mumbles groggily.

“Just you going to sleep a lot earlier than we expected.” I say, folding my arms. “At this rate, you’ll be waking up at four in the morning. Did you not sleep well last night?”

He reaches up with a hand, rubbing at an eye. “Just a little… worn out.” he yawns, stretching a little. “I did a lot of research today. Reading all those academic papers and ancient texts tuckered me out.” He pauses, seeming to fully process Kaya with her arms folded on the couch cushion, watching him. “Hey Kaya.”

“You’re silly.” she states factually, reaches out to tap his nose with a finger, then turns around to grab one of the ice cream bowls. “We’re about to watch the superhero cartoon. Wake up. You don’t want to sleep through that.”

“Oh really? Is it that late already?” he grunts, slowly pushing himself upright on the couch. “Shoot, it is. Dang.”

“We were a little worried you were sick.” I say, reaching down to grab my own bowl and sitting on the loveseat. “Perhaps you should call it a night after this episode and go to bed early, since we’re due to be heading down to the surface to take care of that lumenphage infestation tomorrow.”

Kayenta’s ears perk up at the mention of the surface. “You’re going down to the planet? I want to come!”

“It’s going to be a work trip. You can’t come.” I say, quashing the idea before it has the chance to get off the ground. “We’re not going to be exploring or wandering around; we’re there to fix a problem for one of their cities before Hallow’s Eve. We’ll need to focus and get that done for them, since Hallow’s Eve is in three days.”

Kayenta stares at me long and hard, her eyes narrowed. “…can I come help you, then?”

“You wouldn’t know how to help us, since you’ve never done our type of job before. Come to think of it, you’ve probably never had a job at all.” I say, digging my spoon into my ice cream as Dandy sits beside me and takes her own bowl.

That earns me a scowl from Kayenta. “I can learn.” she says, glaring at me even as she licks her ice cream aggressively, entirely ignoring the spoon in her bowl.

“We can bring her with us.” Jazel says, reaching for his bowl of ice cream. “She just has to promise to follow our orders and not make any trouble. She can watch us work, and if she wants to, she can help us. It’d be nice to have another set of hands, don’t you think?”

“Those hands won’t be much good if they don’t know what they’re doing.” I point out. “She has to promise to follow our orders and behave. We’ll be down there to deal with a lumenphage infestation, not babysitting a bored fox.”

“Yeah. You can do that, can’t you, Kaya?” Jazel asks, though the tone is light and encouraging. It strikes me as a little odd — Jazel usually prefers that people not get in his way when he’s working. He’s not what you’d call a good teacher.

“Yeah. I can.” she says, though her attention is increasingly drawn to the windows as the opening credits finish playing through, and the episode begins proper. Picking at my ice cream, I study Jazel out of the corner of my eye. It’s unlike him to let anyone other than me and Dandy to come along on assignments — I’m kinda bothered that he’d just invite Kayenta to come along out of blue, even if he does like her.

My rumination is broken when I feel Dandy lean close to me; I turn to look at her, about to ask her what she’s doing, but I pause when she whispers in my ear.

“I think he’s trying to give her a reason to stay.”

It takes me a moment to parse through the words, trying to figure out what she’s talking about. Once I connect the dots, it suddenly becomes clear: Jazel doesn’t want Kayenta to leave and join CURSE, so he’s trying to make her more a part of the crew. Encouraging her to come along with us, letting her help out, giving her a chance to contribute and feel like she belongs.

He really does want her to stay. Not just as a pretty thing to look at, or a specimen to be studied, but as part of our group. As someone that’s part of our lives, that contributes something to what we do.

I stop chasing my ice cream around my bowl, and finally take a scoop of it, savoring the taste of chocolate mint. Letting out a long sigh, I lean back, slouching a little on the loveseat as I settle into watching the animated images play across the screen. I might not like it, but…

If Jazel wanted to make an honest effort to teach her how to be one of us, he deserved a chance to try.

Dan Splainsworthy’s Encyclopedia of Exotic Urban Pests

Lumenphage

Once thought of as household pets, lumenphages are a peculiar breed of nocturnal bushy-tailed tree rodent that eats light. It is theorized that in natural environments and primitive societies, lumenphages existed primarily at night under the moon, and around nocturnal sources of light, such as fires or magma pits. With their spread to modernized worlds, lumenphages have become a major pest for cities and urban centers, which are typically littered with a vast array of nighttime illumination.

In appearance, the common lumenphage resembles a gangly, long-limbed squirrel with a catlike face, forward-facing eyes, and a long, bushy tail. It is possessed of hinged digits which allow it great flexibility in climbing, and its pawpads are able to absorb light and energy, which is then channeled into its fur, which function in a manner similar to fiber optics cables. The resulting luminescence is most significant along the spine and the tail of the creature, and most lumenphages can control the flow of light through their fur, allowing them to generate pulsating or flowing patterns of light through their spine and tail. These bioluminescent displays are used as a means of communication within lumenphage communities, and are a core feature of courtship rituals.

The common lumenphage’s designation as a pest comes from the fact that they will often swarm light fixtures and other sources of illumination within cities, and extinguish or drain them. The most common issue are public streetlights, which often end up burnt out and needing to be replaced after being swarmed by a pack of lumenphages. More resilient forms of lighting can withstand this drain, but lumenphages feeding on them presents an additional strain on the energy grid of a given municipality.

Though they can still be kept as pets, lumenphages are considered pests by many cities and urban municipalities due to their high reproduction rate and their effect on public infrastructure. Small lumenphage infestations are usually handled with catch-and-removal; large lumenphage infestations, however, are usually dealt with by means of extermination campaigns.

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

Charisto: Synon Convention Center

10/30/12763 9:28am SGT

“I must admit, Preserver, I am impressed.” the health director says as we walk through the lobby of the convention center, carrying the last two cages of lumenphages. “Clearing all of the lumenphage nests in just under three days was more than we could’ve hoped for. We didn’t think you all would be done until tonight.”

“Well, we had some help.” I say as the sliding glass doors of the lobby open for us. Outside on the stairs of the convention center is Kayenta, with another cage of lumenphages, and beyond her, Milor and Lysanne are busy loading cages of lumenphages into a van parked on the curb. “We’ll see about getting them resettled on a preserve world.”

“Yes, I daresay that fox lady of yours is full of surprises.” the director says as the doors close behind us. “She was rather effective at sniffing out the nests, and that trick where she made her tails glow and led them straight into the cages! Has she done this before?”

“This is her first time helping us, actually.” I say as we start down the stairs. “Kaya, the director is impressed with the job you did!”

She twists around guiltily, and I can see that her cheeks are puffed out, the thrashing tail of a lumenphage hanging from her mouth.

My eyes go wide, and I start running down the stairs as fast as I can without dropping the cage I’m holding. “Kaya! Spit that out right now! What did I tell you about eating these things? We don’t know if they’re harboring any diseases!”

She hunches down, her hands gripping the edges of the cage she got the lumenphage out of. As I arrive, she slowly opens her mouth, letting the sodden rodent fall out of her mouth and back into the cage — keeping eye contact with me the entire time. I fold my arms, staring disapprovingly at her. “Well? What did I tell you?”

“They have magic, though.” she says defensively. “I wanted to see if I could feed on that instead of souls.”

I sigh, reaching down and closing the lid of the cage. “That… okay, well. Yes. But could you like… wait until we’re back on the Drift? That way people don’t get freaked out by you shoving a live tree rat in your mouth. Are you hungry again? I thought you had enough to last you for a while.”

She wipes her mouth off on her hoodie sleeve. “Not yet. I will need to feed again in another month or so.”

“Okay then. So let’s save the… dietary experiments for when we’re back on the ship, okay?” I say, picking up the cage and holding it out for her to take. After she grabs it, I notice the director silently watching this exchange. “She’s got some, uh. Special dietary requirements in the culture she comes from.” I explain.

“Ah. I see.” he says, starting to follow us down the stairs. “Well, we appreciate the assistance nonetheless. I’ll let City Hall know that the job’s been done, and they should be depositing the payment into your account shortly. I suppose you’ll be moving on after this?”

“Yeah.” I say as we hit the bottom of the stairs and cross over to the curb. “We’re needed back at the CURSE HQ, so we’ll be heading back there after departing Charisto.”

“I see. Seems they’ve got you quite busy.” the director remarks, handing over his cage to Lysanne to put in the van. “Do you need to leave right away? I was going to invite you to stay for tonight’s festivities — we could give you VIP passes as thanks for getting this infestation handled so efficiently.”

“VIP passes?” Lysanne says as she slides a cage into the van. “Interesting. Is there something special happening tonight? Aside from Hallow’s Eve.”

“Well, in Synon we usually do trick-or-treating for the kids in the convention center — a safe place for parents to bring their children.” the director explains as I hand my cage to Milor. “It used to be just trick-of-treating, but over the years we started to add booths, and games, and now it’s practically an event. A VIP pass gets you a discount rate with all of the vendors that set up in and around the convention center. We’d be delighted if you’d stay a bit longer to enjoy the festivities tonight.”

Lysanne takes Kayenta’s cage, looking at me. “That doesn’t sound half bad, honestly. What do you think, Milor?”

Milor swings one of the van’s doors shut. “Y’all sell booze at this spooky shindig?” he asks, dusting his hands off.

“Yes, sort of.” the director says, tapping his hands together. “Alcohol is served at the popup bars outside the convention center, but isn’t allowed in the building itself. It wasn’t conducive to the trick-or-treaters to have intoxicated individuals indoors.”

Milor shrugs, straightening his duster. “Fair ‘nuff. I’m down to come back for tonight; it’s not like twelve hours sooner or later is going to matter to yer bosses, is it?” he asks us.

“They won’t mind. We didn’t have a set date on when we were supposed to get back to the CURSE HQ, just that we head that way once we were done with this assignment.” Lysanne says, swinging the other door closed. “What do you think, Jazel? Kaya?”

I shrug. “I wouldn’t mind. I think Kaya would like it.” I glance at her. “It’s going to be like a festival. Lots of sweet things and costumes. You want to go?”

That drags her attention away from the van, and the lumenphages within. “You said there’ll be sweet things? Like ice cream?”

I can’t help but smile at that. “Sweet, yes. Not as cold, but sweet. Lots of candy.”

“If we can have sweet things, I want to go.” Kayenta says, pulling her hood up over her head until her ears pop through the gaps in the hood.

“Alright then, I suppose that settles it.” Lysanne says, leaning against the van. “Five VIP passes, then. Four for us, and we’ll bring our adjutant with us when we come back. She rarely leaves the ship, and I think she’d enjoy a holiday like this.”

“Five passes it is, then!” the director says, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I’ll tell them to hold them for you all at the front desk of the convention center, so just come back whenever you’re done and you can pick them up. I hope you all enjoy everything Synon has to offer tonight!”

“We’ll plan on it. First we gotta get these vermin back up to the ship, though.” Milor says, turning and heading for the front of the van. “Catch you round, doctor. Blondie, do you want to drive, or should I?”

“I’ll drive. I don’t trust you to go the speed limit.” Lysanne says, making her way around the other side of the van.

“C’mon, blondie. I’m a deputy. You think I wouldn’t obey the law?”

“I’m pretty sure that if you weren’t the one enforcing it, you’d be the one breaking it.”

“Sounds like you know a thing or two about bad boys.”

“Shut up and get in the van, Milor.”

“Roger that, blondie. Hey kid, grab your fox and let’s pack it in, we’ve gotta get these nightlight tree rats back up on the Drift on the double!”

Charisto Hallow’s Eve PSA

“Hello citizens, it’s that time of year again! Hallow’s Eve, a fun-filled holiday where children and adults alike get to dress up and go trick-or-treating! But safety is still important, and we here at the Charisto Planetary Police Division just have a few tips and tricks for you as you start to gear up for the holiday.

First, for all the parents out there, a reminder that no child under the age of twelve should trick-or-treat without parental supervision. Crime statistics have consistently shown an uptick in missing children reports on the day after Hallow’s Eve — in many of those instances, the children were left unsupervised.

Second, if you’re wearing a costume, make sure to have your ID with you when you leave the house! In an effort to combat increased criminal activity on Hallow’s Eve, local police drones across Charisto will be patrolling neighborhoods and performing random ID checks on costumed individuals. Criminals often take advantage of a night full of costumes, and we plan on keeping them from ruining the fun.

Third, drive safe and drive slow! Pedestrian traffic is greatly increased on Hallow’s Eve, and the number of parties typically means more intoxicants. Fines for driving infractions on Hallow’s Eve are doubled, so take it slow and if you’re intoxicated, have someone else drive you. It’s the law.

Finally, have fun. This night only comes once a year, and we want you all to make the most of it. Take care, stay safe, and we’ll see you all out there on Hallow’s Eve!”

Event Log: Jazel Jaskolka

Charisto: Synon Convention Center

7:45pm SGT

“So for this holiday, children dress up as things they want to be, and people give them sweets for it?” Kayenta asks as we wander among the booths set up outside of the convention center.

“Yup.” I answer. I’m dressed in the mantle and scarf that Milor got me when we went shopping on Sybione, and dug out one of my traditional witch’s hats that I had stuffed away in my closet. Kayenta’s got her cargo shorts on, but she changed out her shirt and hoodie for a weird turtleneck that’s cut off at the midriff. “It’s a favorite holiday for a lot of people. They get to pretend to be something else, and eat a bunch of candy. For some of the adults, it’s like they get to be kids all over again.”

“But some of these people, they dress up as things they could never be.” Kayenta points out, watching an orc walk past us, dressed up as a werecat. “Do they do this to pretend to be something they are not?”

“Ah, well… yes?” I’m not sure how deep I should go into the nuances of Hallow’s Eve. “I mean, for some people, they dress up like what they want to be, whether it’s a job or a race or a fictional character. Others just… dress up for fun. I’m sure everyone likes pretending to be what they dress up as.”

“But why would you pretend to be something you’re not?” Kayenta asks. “Is it because they don’t like what they are?”

“I think you’re reading into it a little too much.” comes Lysanne’s voice behind us. It looks like her and Dandy are catching up to us, both of them dressed as witches. “People just like dressing up; that’s all there is to it. What’s that look for, Jazel?”

“Witches don’t wear skirts like that.” I say, giving her miniskirt a judgemental look.

She rolls her eyes. “Says you and what coven?”

“Says the coven I grew up in!” I say incredulously. “I’m an actual witchling from an actual coven of Aurescuran witches, I would know!”

“The Falcon’s Crossing coven was old-fashioned anyway.” she says, waving it off. “I heard the Goldenbirch coven had pop witches.”

“Oh dear. Is this considered cultural appropriation?” Dandy says, looking down at her costume. “Perhaps we should not have picked these costumes…”

“Oh, you’re all dressed as witches! Can I dress as a witch too?” Kayenta says, noticing the theme the three of us have going.

“Now look what you’ve done!” I say to Lysanne, motioning at Kayenta.

“Oh, chill out, Jazel.” Lysanne says, coming forward and snatching the hat off my head and planting it on Kayenta’s head instead. “She wants to dress as a witch because witches are cute. You should take it as a compliment.”

“Mm. This doesn’t have holes for my ears.” Kayenta says, reaching up and shifting the hat around, trying to get it comfortable. “I suppose I could try fitting my ears into the hat, since it’s pointy at the top…”

Lysanne elbows me. “You should see if you can get her a custom witch’s hat sometime. I’m sure she’d love that.”

I grumble wordlessly, because I don’t want to admit that it’s a good idea. “Did you find a good place to park the van?”

“Well, we found a place to park it. Wasn’t a good place, because this place is crammed.” Lysanne says, starting to walk again, the rest of us falling in step with her. “We had to park all the way in the corner of the convention’s parking lot. It’s a bit of a walk from here to there, which is why it took us so long to catch up after dropping you three off.” She pauses at that point, looking around. “Speaking of which, where’s Milor? Did you all lose him already?”

“He’s at the popup bars. We lost him the second we got our passes; he was already on his way to booze shack.” I say, digging around in my mantle until I come up with the two VIP passes I was holding for Lysanne and Dandy. Kayenta and myself already have ours hanging around our necks.

“Figures.” Lysanne says, passing one to Dandy before putting hers on. “Seen anything interesting so far? There’s a lot of booths here. I’m surprised.”

“Plenty of interesting stuff.” I say, looking around. “It’s a lot more than I was expecting. More like a small business showcase than a holiday. There were booths for glow-in-the-dark face painting, there was a stand selling jams and stuff, there’s a ton of booths hawking homemade jewelr— unhf!”

I have to take a step to steady myself as a tall elf shoulders past me, nearly knocking me over. Lysanne reaches out to catch me, Dandy and Kayenta stopping as well to watch the tall, cloaked individual continue on without a word or an apology.

“Jeez.” I say, straightening up. “Damn near ran me over. Wonder what their problem is.”

“People are just jerks.” Lysanne says, brushing my mantle down. “It’s unavoidable when you get this many people in one place. What were you saying about the booths?”

“Yeah, I guess.” I say as we start walking again. “Uh, the booths… lots of people selling handcrafted stuff. A few of them have games and activities; some of them are selling handmade costumes and masks.”

“Masks?” Lysanne says, raising an eyebrow. “Surprised the police haven’t shut that down, what with Masklings and all that.”

“I doubt that such a booth is distributing actual Masks.” Dandy says. “Such conspiracy theories surface every Hallow’s Eve. Each of them has been thoroughly debunked. It is not an efficient or legal method of finding Maskbearers for Masks, and the public backlash and notoriety it would generate is not in the Masklings’ interest.”

“I figured, but people tend to act on their paranoia, even if it’s been disproven.” Lysanne says, looking around. “I love the costumes on Hallow’s Eve. You can tell some people really worked hard on theirs.” She nods to what looks like a tall, thin woman standing at a towering eight feet tall, an impressive rack of jagged antlers branching out from her head to either side. She’s shrouded in a long, dark cloak; her skin is pale, with deep shadows and an austere, cold expression on her highly defined facial structure. She’s moving towards us, but there’s no rustling of her cloak to indicate that her legs are moving — she seems to be gliding along the ground on a small, rolling bank of black smoke that moves ahead of her and trails behind her. All of us watch as she glides by us, without so much as giving us sidelong glance.

“I wonder if she’s hiding a motorized scooter under that cloak.” Lysanne remarks as the antler lady glides away into the crowd. “She doesn’t look buff enough to be an orc or a Venusian, and you don’t get that tall without having a little meat on your bones or a stool under your feet.”

“I did not detect any electrical signatures as she passed by.” Dandy remarks. “Whatever she was using, it was masked very well.”

Kayenta stares quietly after the tall woman, then chirps “Demon.” and keeps walking.

“I wonder how many hours of work people put into those kinds of costumes.” I ponder as we keep walking. “I can’t imagine sinking more than twenty credits into a costume, max.”

“That’s what most of us do. But I’ve heard of some people that put hundreds of credits and dozens of hours into their costumes.” Lysanne says. “Some people craft them by hand, do all the tailoring and metalwork and leatherwork themselves.”

“Conversely, there are those that require little more than body paint in the way of costumes.” Dandy points out. “Some professionals can paint a convincing, realistic costume onto their customers, and they wear nothing but that paint for Hallow’s Eve.”

“That’s neat, but I wouldn’t want to wear one of those for Hallow’s Eve. On most worlds, Hallow’s Eve happens during the cold season, right?” Lysanne points out. “Besides, I’m pretty sure the police would be on you for public indecency.”

“It depends on the culture.” Dandy says. “Besides, one could argue that paint, though unorthodox, is an article of clothing so long as it covers the individual to a sufficient degree.”

“What’s that smell?” Kayenta says, head tilted up and back, nose raised to the air as she moves ahead of us. “It smells good.”

“Probably one of the food stalls.” I say, following after her as she weaves back and forth under the lights strung between the booths on either side of the walkway. “Don’t get too far ahead of us, Kaya. We don’t want you to get lost.”

“Even if I get lost, I could track my way back to you.” she says, veering sharply to the left and locking onto a funnelcake stand. “Oh! This is it! This is what I smell!”

“She smelled… funnelcakes.” Lysanne says as the other three of us angle to follow Kayenta. “Alright. I was expecting she’d be scenting hamburgers or smokies or some other kind of meat.”

“She seems to have quite the sweet tooth.” Dandy remarks as we reach the booth.

“Well, what have we here?” says the plump woman manning the booth as she comes out from the back with a fresh bowl of funnelcake batter. “It’s a little coven of witches! Redhead, blonde, and raven-haired beauts. That’s one short of a straight flush; you just need a brunette to round it out.”

“Does he count?” Lysanne says, throwing an arm around me and pulling me into view. “He doesn’t have the hat, but he’s got the brown hair and he’s the only one that’s actually a witch out of the four of us.”

“Can’t say he’s as pretty as the rest of you.” the funnelcake lady says, dipping a cup into the batter bowl. “You all interested in a funnelcake, then?”

“This shack smells good! What is a funnelcake?” Kayenta says, peering curiously at the fryer behind the counter. The powdered-sugar smears on the counter catch her attention next, and she drags a finger through the dust, then puts it in her mouth. “Oh! This is sweet!”

“Well, I sold out the ones I had on the counter, but if you’ll wait just a moment, I can have a fresh one for you all in just a moment.” the funnelcake lady says, starting to drizzle the batter into the fryer. “They go for three credits a pop, with the powdered sugar on top.”

“It looks like tangled roots made of dough!” Kayenta exclaims, watching as the rope of batter hisses and sizzles in the fryer as the funnelcake lady weaves it back and forth.

“Would you like one?” I ask Kayenta, reaching into my mantle for my phone.

She looks at me, her august eyes excited. “Can I?”

“Yeah, we can get you one.” I say, feeling around in my mantle, then frowning. “Where’d it go…”

“Something up, Jazel?” Lysanne asks.

“I can’t find my phone.” I say, starting to pat through my pockets with both hands. “I coulda sworn I had it on me…”

“Perhaps it slipped out of your pocket in the van?” Dandy suggests.

“Or someone nicked it.” the funnelcake lady says knowingly. “Gotta be careful around here. Lots of pockets get picked after the sun goes down. Petty thieves like to skulk around here on Hallow’s Eve because they know there’s going to be a lot of easy targets.”

“Hope not. HQ’s gonna be pissed if they have to replace my phone.” I mutter. “Lysanne, I’m sorry… could you pay for the funnelcake? I’m going to run to the van and see if my phone fell out in there. Where did you park it?”

“Should be in the far corner of the convention parking lot.” Lysanne says, digging out the keys and handing to them to me while she pulls out her own phone. “Don’t worry about the funnelcake, I’ll cover it. We’ll hang around here until you get back.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back soon.” I say, taking the keys and striding back the way we came, at speed. As I go, I check through all my pockets a second time, but I still can’t find my phone; puffing out an aggravated sigh, I pick up the pace, dodging around people until I reach the parking lot.

As I start working my way along the vast rows of parked cars and vans, I raise the key fob and click the finder button, rewarded with the distant, distant chirp of the van’s alarm system. Lysanne wasn’t lying when she said she parked it in the far corner of the parking lot, though with how full the parking lot is, I’m surprised she was able to find a spot, even on the back row. Lowering the fob, I start walking again, thinking back to everything that happened since I got out of the van; I was hoping that my phone had just fallen out in the van, and not been stolen. Aside from Kayenta and Lysanne, I couldn’t think of anyone else that had been near me as we’d wandered through the booths, at least… up until the point that elf had almost walked right over me.

I look over my shoulder back at the glowing lights of the convention center. That collision had been rough enough that I could’ve missed someone nicking my phone; I had a sinking feeling in my chest because I didn’t want it to be true, but if I didn’t find my phone in the van, that was the most likely explanation. Huffing out another breath, I start to look forward again, but my eyes catch on the person walking through the parking lot behind me. They’re on the other side of the row, tracing along the edge of the parked vehicles, but the cloak and pointed ears are familiar.

Curling my fingers, I look back forward, but catch sight of another cloaked person one row over on my right, moving about the same speed that I am. And up ahead, there’s yet another elf leaning back against the corner of a truck parked in the row to the left; though I can’t see them very well in the dark, my thoughts are starting to drift back to the encounter I had outside the research institute on Pallus. Starting to feel uneasy, I pick up the speed, and look back to see that the other elf is quickening their pace to match mine.

That decides it for me, and my fingers fold into fists as I prepare to break into a sprint — but before I can, a grey-haired man with a cane steps out from the row of vehicles to my right, planting his cane on the asphalt and standing right in my way. The greatcoat, the slightly antiquated clothes beneath it, the arrogant stance, are all too familiar.

It’s Grimes.

“Hallo again, Mr. Jaskolka.” Grimes says, reaching into his greatcoat and pulling out a little rectangle — my phone. “Looking for this?”

I don’t move forward, because I know better than to come within striking range of him — I know what’s hidden within that cane. But at the same time, I’m keenly aware of his elves moving in on me from behind and the side. “How’d you find us?” I demand. “And before you ask, we’re not giving you the morphox.”

“Oh good. I’m glad to see we’re on the same page.” he says, looking my phone over before resting it on the hood of the car he’s standing next to. “While we are here for the morphox, that’s not the only thing we’re here for. Our last encounter, though nominally irritating, provided a fresh perspective. The good news is that you shouldn’t have to worry about being separated from your slippery vulpine friend anymore.”

I turn slightly and move to put my back to one of the vehicles to my right, doing my best to keep all of the elves within view and prevent someone from sneaking up behind me. “That better mean you plan on leaving us alone.” I say, patting my left hand against my leg to wake up the grimoire tattooed into my skin. “I let you all off easy last time.”

“Unfortunately for you, we have no intention of doing that.” Grimes says as the two elves that are in the same row as us start crossing the parking lot towards me. I’ve lost track of the third one that was on the other side of the row. “Rather than consider you an obstruction to an objective, the remarkable resilience you demonstrated during our last encounter makes it clear that you have a wealth of potential going untapped. I’m interested in the depths of that bounty — most people are only given one soul. You, however, seem to have somewhat more than that.”

“Yeah, well all of it is reserved, and it’s not up for grabs.” I say as the pentafractal lines of my grimoire start to glow bright blue on my palm and the back of my hand, and lift off of the skin. “I’d like to have my phone back now, please, and I’d like for you to stop bothering me.”

“That’s a brave face for someone that’s outnumbered and outmatched.” Grimes says, tugging idly on the cuff of his gloves. “Do us a favor, boy, and tell us where we can find the morphox. We’ll be taking both of you back with us.”

“She’s too busy eating funnelcake to be interested in going anywhere.” I answer, tapping through the layers of my grimoire as I search for a spell for this situation. I never remade my invisibility spell and stored it back in the grimoire, so I can’t slip away like I did last time. I’ll probably have to use force. “And if you don’t tell your pointy-eared minions to back off, then I— ack!”

Something curls around my left wrist; if feels so much like a snake that I instinctively jerk my arm back towards my body, but whatever it is draws tight and yanks upwards, pulling my grimoire hand up over my head to where I can’t reach it with my right hand. Looking up, I see the third elf standing on the roof of the van I’d backed up against, holding the vine that that’s wrapped around my wrist. It seems to be coming from within the sleeve of his cloak, winding around his arm and threaded through his fingers.

“We learned from the last encounter that letting you play with that little light show hidden in your hand was a mistake.” Grimes says, sauntering forward with his cane clicking over the asphalt. “We weren’t going to make it again. I must admit that, in spite of my extensive experience in the occult, I’ve not seen something like this before.” As he arrives, he reaches up to grab my forearm, twisting and turning it so he can look at my grimoire. “I’ve seen tattooed magic in the past, but they seem to have used translucent ink on you, so the mark wouldn’t show up on your hand unless it was activated. And this level of complexity is remarkable — layers upon layers within a single tattoo.”

Gritting my teeth, I wrap my fingers around the vine so I have something to hold onto, and swing my leg, kicking Grimes in the shin. He shouts and jerks his leg up, hopping back on the other leg as he clutches his shin. “Oh you little shit— don’t just stand there, teach him a lesson or two!” he hisses at the other two elves.

They start towards me, and I try to bolt off to the side, but the elf on top of the car yanks the vine around my wrist, keeping me in place. I don’t have time to get a punch off before they grab me, one holding me in place while the other chops me in the throat with the side of his hand. I can feel my windpipe immediately close up, and I can’t breathe; as I grab at my throat with my free hand, I feel hands on my shoulders, and a knee ram into my stomach, slamming me back against the van and destroying any breath I might’ve had left. I can’t do anything but sag from the vine that’s now holding me up, unable to breathe or think, and feeling like I’m about to throw up. The vine around my wrist loosens, letting me drop to the ground, where I curl up and writhe as I try to get air into my windpipe.

“It’s too easy.” says the elf that kneed me, stepping back. “They don’t make humans like they used to. This one could barely throw a punch.”

“Just because he folds like wet paper doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.” Grimes says, leaning more heavily on his cane now, keeping his weight off the leg that I kicked. “Bag him and get him in the van. We’ll use him to bait the morphox and catch her too.”

I reach for my left hand, the grimoire seal flickering and fading now that I’m not focused on it, but the first elf crouches down, catching my hands and keeping them apart. The second one digs in his cloak and comes up with a pair of cuffs; he’s in the process of crouching down when there’s the sound of a scuffle on top of the van. What sounds like indignant protests quickly morph into panicked screams; both elves stand back, and the first elf takes a quick step back as the third elf slams to the ground beside me. His hood’s been pulled off, and there’s a strong smell of burning flesh coming off him; his face has been seared, and is still in the process of popping and sizzling as skin and muscle melt and burn from residual heat. The shape of the burn is what catches my attention: it looks like a handprint, as if someone with magma hands had grabbed his face.

There’s a thud as boots hit the ground on my other side, and all three elves move away from me, the first two backing away and the third one scrabbling and clawing across the ground in a panic, still screeching raspily from his pain. Whoever landed beside me steps forward until they’re standing between me and Grimes’ gang; still wheezing and gasping for breath, I roll over on my back, trying to get a look at whoever just arrived. All I can see from behind is a small blonde in a leather duster, translucent orange manacles hovering around her sleeve cuffs; but when she speaks, the voice sounds familiar.

“You chose a bad night to pick on my big brother.”