“Oh, man, are we going to have to climb these things every day when we get off the bus?” Warrick groaned. “It’s bad enough that Mr. Bevilacqua plans on making us do laps every day before gym.”

“I’d do laps all freaking day if I didn’t have to take the useless classes I got saddled with.” Cyn grimaced. Somehow, the school had managed to switch most of her class requests with Melissa’s resulting in her not only being separated from all of her friends most of the day, but also in her class load being as appealing to her as watching linoleum peal.

“It can’t be that bad.” Juniper said, “I only got two classes I wanted and I think things will go just fine.”

Cyn managed not the glare at her perpetually sunny housemate. More than once, she wondered if her almost irrational optimism was the result of brain damage or a mask for some sort of seeking psychotic rage boiling just beneath the surface.

“Let me put it this way,” the white haired girl finally said, “Humanity’s been around like eighty thousand years. In that time, we’ve had like thousands of religions with gods and other divine honchos. That’s like maybe a million gods, right?”

The others nodded as they began to ascend the stairs.

“Right.” Cyn affirmed. “Well, after today, I can say with certainty that every single one of them hates me.”

“Now you’re just being melodramatic.” Warrick said.

“Nope.” Cyn shook her head. “And it’s not just the class thing. Have you ever heard of ‘conserv’ girls? They’re like the new obnoxious clique around here or something – a cross between the fashion police and poster girls for a vapid lifestyle. And they’re in like every single one of my classes except drama.”

“Those drama lessons are already paying off.” Melissa muttered with a roll of her eyes.

If Cyn heard her, she didn’t acknowledge. “So apparently, white hair is ‘out’ or something, so I had to hear about it like ten times every period!”

“Can’t you just recolor your hair – like at will?” Warrick asked and Juniper nodded her head in agreement.

“That’s not the point!” Cyn exclaimed, “It’s the principle of the thing. I’m hell bent on shoving their faces in it… or hitting them, I’m not sure which yet. In any event, I wouldn’t have gotten a moment’s peace today if it wasn’t for Liz von Stoker.”

“Is that a new friend of yours?” Juniper asked. She decided to keep the fact that the conserv girls all seemed to like her to herself. The tried and true cynic, Cyn already had a hard enough time getting along with her and she didn’t want to push her luck.

“Not really. More like fellow victim” Cyn explained. “They ignored my white hair to attack her bone spurs.”

“Bone spurs?” Melissa blinked, her curiosity forcing her into the conversation. “What?”

Cyn nodded, pausing on a landing. “Little bone nubs coming out of her arm.” She indicated a line from the back of her middle finger down to her elbow to illustrate. “She’s a protomorph.”

All four knew what the term meant. A protomorph was someone who developed the ability to change their shape or biology once and only once and they were stuck with the result. These ranged from changes in skin coloration to truly aberrant physiology like gills or segmented eyes.

Protomorphs were exemplarily of the attitude the government and the Academy took with psionics; those with exploitable powers were given essentially a free ride for life; free schooling and guaranteed work under government contract. Those that didn’t – the ones that drain batteries in consumer electronics faster than normal, have a perpetual static charge, or who can change their eye color at will – weren’t given a second thought.

The public acceptance of psionics as ‘citizen assets’ wasn’t extended to people with unusual, but fairly useless physical manifestations like Elizabeth van Stoker. As far as society was concerned, she was just a freak.

Everyone looked at one another uncomfortably for a moment. Elizabeth’s situation was the polar opposite from theirs, but the similarities were there and they were disturbing.

“So…” Juniper began, hoping to get everyone’s minds off the discomfort. “How was your day, Melissa?” The second she asked the question, she saw her mistake, even without the glare from Melissa.

“I have all of Cyn’s classes, except for my computer courses.” It was Melissa’s turn to grimace. “This is going to be my second time taking both American History and Spanish because we can’t very well show them my original records.” Mentally, she considered the fact that ten more years of American history had gone by since the last time she had taken it.

“Whatever.” Cyn sighed, starting up the stairs again. “I’m going to change, then hop a cab into town to meet Kay and Lisa. Anyone coming with?”

“I’ll share a cab with you, but I need to hit downtown to take reference pictures for Ms. Cruz’s class, ”Warrick said, ”We’re jumping right into our first week’s projects and I figure a nice cityscape as seen from one of the high rooftops would be pretty cool.”

“I’ll come.” Juniper said. “Kay’s been talking about drafting me as Snackrifice’s singer all month. Maybe we can talk shop.”

All three looked at Melissa who made a face. “I actually wouldn’t mind stopping by the bookstore today, but I promised to tell Kareem everything about today, so maybe next time.”

Vincent Liedecker picked up his office phone before the sound of the first ring had even died in his ears. “Speak.” He ordered as if giving a command to a dog, which is exactly what he thought of it as. Only a handful of people knew the number and they all knew better than to call for minor problems.

“Rick Charlotte, sir.” The voice on the other end said. “I’m ready to patch you in on the street level cameras.”

“Good.” Liedecker said. “You have that face recognition software you mentioned running?”

“If Farnsworth crosses to within a block, we’ll know it, sir.”

“That’s what I want to hear, Charlotte.” The secret strongman of the Mayfield underworld said. In the weeks since the thief had disappeared with Liedecker’s painting, Portrait of Morganna le Fay by Unknown, he had mustered a substantial dragnet to find her and bring her in.

The previous day had yielded the first lead in that time. A camera monitor, formerly affiliated with Brother Wright, had spotted Tatiana Farnsworth entering City Central Library. Some simple analysis by Rick Charlotte had revealed that she had printed off ever single Scribe article about the prelate team, Life Savers, Inc and several more about psionics in general. That had increased the priority of bringing her in ten fold in Liedecker’s eyes.

Charlotte had also discovered that Farnsworth had spent a disproportionate amount of time at the website of the DeFilippis Center, a small, local archeological museum. For all the world, it appeared that Farnsworth, the infamous Lady Nightshade, was casing the museum for a robbery.

But Liedecker hadn’t come into power by taking things at face value. He had taken control of Mayfield by knowing his enemies and exploiting that knowledge. He’d had Charlotte check further into the DeFilippis Center and found that it held very little in the way of monetarily valuable discoveries. Several of its pieces had rich historical significance, but their price tags would be beneath the notice of the thief of Farnsworth’s caliber.

“This is a setup.” Liedecker said as the street camera views appeared on his computer screen.

“Pardon sir?” Rick asked.

“Setup, Charlotte. A trick, a run around. She’s playing with us.”

“What do you mean, sir? She couldn’t have known we’d spot her through public security cameras.” Rick sounded nervous and was right to be.

“Think on that, a second, you snot brained idjiot.” Liedecker rumbled. “Nightshade’s the kind that loves attention. She leaves pieces of belladonna with lipstick on them at crime scenes for God’s sake.”

“I’m not following sir.”

“Open your useless brain, Charlotte.” Liedecker said in his drawl. “She knows how to get attention without getting caught. If she’s smart enough to get past hidden cameras, she can damn well get past the public ones with the big signs saying ‘this is a goddamn government camera’. She’s trying to get someone’s attention, you dumb little worm!”

“With all due respect, sir…” Rick stammered, “If this is a trap, why are we sending our guys into it?”

“Because they, like you, are expendable, Charlotte.” Liedecker stated the honest truth. “If we catch her, perfect, if she catches them, they weren’t worth being part of the organization. It’s all a matter of risk versus reward.”

The long winter coat made her stand out even before any of Liedecker’s men inside the DeFilippis Center heard her stream of consciousness muttering. She hadn’t even bothered to put up the fur lined hood to hide her face. Tatiana Farnsworth was certainly not acting like the woman who had insulted and robbed the most powerful man in Mayfield.

She ignored the eyes on her back, striding across the hardwood rotunda of the museum toward an exhibition room containing the museum’s spoils from a dig in the south of France. Once there, she moved more slowly, her eyes closed. She seemed to be sniffing the air.

The first thug made his move. A stun gun slipped out of his suit pocket as he stepped behind her. There were no worries about getting caught – the curator and staff had been paid handsomely. Trying to be silent, he stepped up behind her.

The thief moved with a fluid grace that was almost inhuman. She dropped into a crouch and swept his legs out from under him with a well placed kick. He exclaimed as he fell. “You… aren’t… aren’t who I wanted.” Morganna studied him with an alien expression.

Ignoring the fallen man and the other three toughs that were closing on her, she wandered over to a heavy oak chair. The placard set on the velvet rope that separated patrons from the antique furniture proclaimed that it had been carved from a single contiguous piece and told of the date of it’s discovery and probable age. There was also a notation about it’s unusual lightness.

Morganna chuckled. “They… they never would have found it… They can’t feel it…”

“Hands up, Farnsworth.” One of Liedecker’s men, a stout Asian man with a thick moustache ordered. He held a pistol and kept his distance, wary of the fate of the man who had closed with her.

Morganna leaned over and touched the seat of the chair. It thrummed with the power hidden within. The object’s presence had been revealed to her in a portentous dream and it had taken days of learning from Tatiana Farnsworth’s memories to navigate the information caches of this world to find this place.

“I said hands up!” The man with the gun ordered. The others stood behind him. One of them also held a pistol. The other looked as if he was prepared to fight barehanded.

“I don’t… don’t want… any of you.” Morganna didn’t take her eyes off the chair. The spell concealing the compartment was complex – it was a wonder it had survived this long.

The first gunman brandished his weapon again. “I don’t care what you want. You’re coming with us, bitch! Now turn around right now!”

Morganna’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I said…” She span, drawing on Lady Nightshade’s psionic power as she did. An invisible blade of force bisected the gunman’s weapon before severing his thumb and cutting a thin, but deep gash in his arm. “I DON’T WANT ANY OF YOU!” Before the gunman could scream, Morganna was in motion, hand blurring as she called up magic to lay her enemies low.

Morganna emerged from the museum, stowing something unwieldy into the sack at her hip. She looked sullen as she looked around the street as if expecting someone to show up. Someone did.

A nearby vending machine flickered and faded away, its holographic image no longer required. Passerby gawked in confusion as the black lacquered plates of the Sky Tyrant powered armor shown in the orange light of the setting sun.

“I suggest all citizens leave the area immediately.” A deep, digitally altered voice resonated from the armor’s speakers. The armor’s new, articulated hand raised and pointed at Morganna. “I’m here for her.” The declaration was punctuated by a plasma lance emerging from the armor’s right forearm.

As the crowd began to panic and disperse, now certain that this was definitely not a new kind of police powered armor like those employed in New York, Morganna regarded it with sudden interest. “You… aren’t what I wanted. But… but… you are different. I want your machine.”

Inside the armor, Scuff leered. “Maybe after you see the boss, baby. But for now come along quietly so I don’t have to bruise that pretty face too bad, huh?”

Morganna made a gesture and the Sky Tyrant was rocked by an unseen force. Readouts on Scuff’s heads up display indicated that a powerful focused blast had just impacted the shields and armor across his chest. Morganna looked just as shocked as Scuff.

“That… that should have taken your heart out!” She raged. “What manner of… being are you?”

“The name’s Sky Tyrant.” Scuff said, activating flight systems to hover a few feet off the ground. “Now that whatever you just did didn’t work, I think it’s time I grab you by the hair and drag you back to the boss caveman style.”

Morganna was taken aback. Even against the psionics that had defeated her Ape Knight, her stolen psionic power had managed to do at least small wounds. This machine with a man inside hadn’t even been scratched. She needed to see what the beast was capable of. “We… we shall see.” She said, drawing a long, grey feather from her bag.

With a word of power, the feather lofted into the air and began circling her as if caught in the wind. After a single orbit, one feather became two, then two became four, and four became eight. Soon, a storm of feathers roared around Morganna in a flurry.

Thoroughly confused, Scuff backed the Sky Tyrant way from the freak storm of feathers.

There was a flash of light and the feather cloud parted to reveal Morganna—now sporting a quartet of grey feathered wings. Laughing with manic glee, the sorceress took to the sky.

-- • --

The sun tinted the cloudless sky a brilliant orange as if began to dip behind the mountains far to the west, silhouetting the buildings in the western skyline perfectly. Warrick’s digital camera beeped repeatedly as he took rapid-fire pictures of the scene.

He was dressed in his black, face masked Alloy disguise to allay suspicion as to how he had managed to reach the top of the building he was using as a platform for his photography. The tentacles were out and rummaging around in Warrick’s satchel, occasionally, handing him things when asked.

A particularly impressive view of the Westinghall Building; it’s gently rounded facades reflecting the sunset; presented itself and Warrick took a few shots of that as well. “Isp, hand me my wireless transmitter, please? I want to send these to my email account so there’s no chance of accidentally erasing them.”

For some time, he had been privately referring to the tentacles by name. It just seemed appropriate that they had names. He had dubbed them Isp and Osp after minor characters from one of his favorite classic comic series; the one that tended to be on the right was Isp, the one on the left, Osp. They responded favorably to their new monikers, reacting more quickly when addressed by them.

Isp produced the requested gadget from Warrick’s bag and deposited it in an outstretched palm.

“Thanks.” Warrick said, plugging the transmitter into the camera and using the thumb pad to start the transfer of the pictures.

Somewhere down the block and far below, the usual buzz of activity was suddenly replaced by screams and shouts of confusion. Moments later, rapid gunfire spilt the air.

“Holy crap!” Warrick rushed to the edge of the roof and looked down. He was too high up and too far away to see what was going on other than the snarled traffic that was a side effect, but the gunfire continued. Biting his lip, Warrick made his decision. He mentally warned the tentacles of what he was going to do seconds before taking a running leap off the building.

For a second that seemed like minutes, he was sailing out into empty space, the wind rippling the fabric of his shirt. Then the tentacles sprang into action with celerity beyond what any normal human could match. Isp formed a slim harpoon and buried itself into the concrete at the edge of the roof. At the same time, Osp coiled and lashed forward, exerting forward momentum that propelled Warrick toward the sound of the gunfire. They alternated, one anchoring and one whipping forward, carrying Warrick forward in a gentle swinging motion.

Soaring over the gridlocked traffic, Warrick finally saw the cause of all the commotion; a winged woman he’d never seen before was dodging bullets and making sharp gestures in a seeming counter attack. Her opponent was the same man in powered armor as the one that had assaulted he and Cyn months before.

Eyes narrowing, he reached out with his power and converted several streetlights and window grates into snaking streamers of liquid metal in his wake. They whipped up around him like leaves on an invisible wind, falling into patterns formed from his mind. By the time he reached The battle, he was ensconced in armor of dark, weathered metal.

“It’s about time you showed your ugly mug around here again!” Warrick crowed as the tentacles swung him feet first into the powered armor’s back. The strike was too fast and unexpected for the armor’s flight system to correct in time and the Sky Tyrant was sent careening into a wall. “I see you’re still getting off on harassing women.” Warrick finished as the tentacles sat him down in the middle of the street. All around him, cars had been abandoned by drivers desperate to escape the battle.

“You!” Morganna and Sky Tyrant shouted as one.

Scuff switched from the rubber bullet ordinance Liedecker had ordered him to use in combat with Lady Nightshade to the Tesla Arc. “Stay out of this, tin can. My boss just wants a word with the lady.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Warrick said flatly. He wondered where the woman recognized him from. “What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t help the lady shake off some unwanted creeps? Smacking down handsy bad guys is up there with opening doors and pulling out chairs in these modern times we live in.”

“You’ve go no idea who you’re screwing with. “Sky Tyrant extended the plasma lance from his right arm. “Now back off!” He leveled the weapon, aiming for Warrick’s center.

Meanwhile, Morganna hovered, clumsily retrieving the object she had stolen from the DeFilippis Center from her bag. “Yes… I knew one would come. This new power – it… it will show them the strength of magic.” She drew out a heavy book, large enough that even her spell enhanced muscles had trouble balancing it in one hand, and began flipping through pages.

Finding the passage she was searching for, she laughed loudly. “Now… psionic… face true power!” She began reading in a twisting, fluid language, a haze of green light rising from the page she recited from. She didn’t finish.

“Shut up!” A bolt of blue lightning flickered through the air and into her. She screamed, arching her back in pain and dropping the book. The feathers crackled with electricity and dissolved into nothingness, causing Morganna to drop from the air. “Crazy bitch.” Scuff snarled through the Sky Tyrant’s speakers. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

Warrick blinked. That halting, disjointed manner of speaking was unmistakable – Morganna. He watched her twitch on the ground a few times before turning his attention to the Sky Tyrant. “What are you doing messing around with that fruitcake?”

“Business.” Scuff replied dryly, his plasma torch still trained on Warrick. “Now that she’s down, I’ve got some time to kill before it’s time to drag her to the boss. Let’s talk old times.”

“You don’t have as much time as you think.” Warrick said. Before Scuff could react to the comment, invisible knives of force raked Sky Tyrant’s arm, this time actually scoring the lacquered paneling.

“Meddling machine!” Morganna screamed, leaning heavily against a car. “The psionic… is mine, Sky Tyrant!”

The sudden and surprising violence of the attack made Scuff forget he was supposed to take Farnsworth alive and raked her position with the plasma lance, tearing through two cars, but missing the darting sorceress completely.

Warrick grit his teeth. “I really hate to do this… but she’s more dangerous than you ever hoped to be.” He finally said. He bought his powers to bear on one of the cars the Sky Tyrant’s plasma lance had just totaled. Paint, plastic and glass collapsed as the metals beneath them deformed and jutted forward, reaching for Morganna like searching fingers.

Her hands suddenly sheathed in white flame, Morganna batted the first few aside before reaching into her bag. The remainder of the former car caught her before she could use whatever she grabbed. It flowed over her, encasing her legs and oozing up them to her torso.

“Pfft, she doesn’t look so dangerous to me.” Scuff said, switching back to rubber ordinance.

Moments before he fired, Morganna was surrounded by a rosy pink glow and disappeared. The bullets battered the encasing metal, and broke a few windows, but nothing more. Moments later, the same pinkish light flared into being directly behind Sky Tyrant and Morganna emerged from the Astral Plane, wings in place once more. Her left hand glowed white as she pressed it palm first into the small of the suit’s back.

All the warning lights on the head’s up display went off at once and Scuff found himself temporarily blind. Roaring wordlessly, he span, clubbing Morganna away with the still hot nozzle of his plasma lance.

Back winging, Morganna dodged as Warrick extruded more metal from a nearby mailbox to try to snare her. “Soon… in good time… psionic. The Book, it will--” She was cut off as she nearly took another shot from the Tesla Arc. “The machine first . I… want it and it’s master.”

She grinned at Scuff, who had regained his bearings and made a come hither gesture. “Follow.” She said, before winging upward and away. The Sky Tyrant’s flight systems screamed as it took off to intercept.

The tentacles coiled, preparing to swing Warrick after the pair, but Warrick mentally stopped them. “If she wants that book, it’s dangerous.” He reasoned aloud, hurrying over to where Morganna has dropped it. It looked even heavier than it did in Morganna’s hands and he had to grip it with both hands to heft it. “We can’t leave this thing just lying around.”

He glanced after Morganna and the Sky Tyrant, but both had turned a corner somewhere. “We’ll catch up to them after I get this somewhere safe; wherever that is.” The tentacles didn’t miss a beat in carrying him aloft again, toward the roof where he’d left his bag. “Ms. Brant will know what to do.” Warrick reasoned as he frowned at the strange symbols on the book’s leather cover.

Alexis continued swimming laps as the automatic lights came up to replace the lost daylight. Laurel sat nearby at the patio table, ostensibly to time Alexis’s laps, but her attention was almost entirely on her latest acquisition. It was currently in two pieces; a silver and black affair that fit over her left ear with an eyepiece that extended over the corresponding eye; and a pad of buttons about four inches wide, six inches long and about half an inch thick and made to fold in half.

“New toy?” Ian asked, emerging from the house. He had a can of cola in one hand and a glass filled with ice in the other.

Laurel nodded, “the Yamauchi Integrated Portable – it won’t be available stateside for a month and a half.” Her thumbs worked over the keypad as she spoke. “My friend Takashi sent it to me along with the Sentinel: Guardian of Order beta.

“Takashi… have I met him?” Ian asked, taking a seat across from her. He cracked open the can and carefully poured it down the side of the glass to avoid having it foam over.

“Yeah, he came to visit back in Seattle – about the time you were dating Leanne. Remember, he treated us all to that horrible Forever Sacred movie?”

“Oh!” Ian smirked at a sudden observation “Wow, that movie was so bad, I can remember someone because of their sarcastic remarks during it.”

Laurel nodded. “So, what’s up?”

Ian blinked. “Nothing. It’s a little too quiet inside, so I decided to come out here to talk.” He shrugged, but Laurel noticed his eyes dart momentarily toward Alexis. She didn’t give any indication that she’d seen it though.

“Quiet is good.” Laurel said, “Quiet indicates an absence of explosions, painful injuries or passive aggressive cat fights. Speaking of which, how do you think the kids’ first day at school went?”

“I wonder…” Ian replied, “I mean, we never had a real high school experience ourselves, with the Academy and all and neither have they. I honestly don’t know how high school is supposed to be aside from television.”

“Well—“Laurel started, but her phone began to play Symphony to Athena by the Blind Fighters.

“Hello?” She answered it, placing it next to the ear that wasn’t covered by the game’s headpiece. “Really?” She said in a flat, reserved tone. “Well I’ll get up to my workshop and I’ll take a look at it.” She said before hanging up.

“Sorry, Ian, that was Warrick.” She said in a hushed tone so Alexis wouldn’t hear. “He ran into something he needs me to take a look at while he was out doing his hero thing.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “How did—“

“Super genius, Ian.” She said tapping the side of her head. Removing the game’s headset, she folded it into the closed handset. “Do me a favor, please?” Ian nodded, dumbly, still a bit shocked Laurel both knew about Life Savers, Inc and about his knowledge of them. “Tell Alexis she’s shaved two seconds off her normal time.”

Scuff was flying almost blind. Whatever Lady Nightshade had done to him, it had not only severed his connection to Liedecker but it had severely damaged his navigation and night vision modules. It was only for the fact that his quarry was being careful not to lose him that he was able to follow.

He didn’t really care if she was leading him into a trap; he had a full clip of rubber bullets left, his Tesla Arc was charged, and the armor’s hull integrity seemed to be holding steady. He checked it again – the damage sensors were malfunctioning, they said hull integrity had increased from eighty percent nominal to eighty three percent. Bug aside, the Sky Tyrant had never felt so maneuverable. Scuff put it up to his determination to teach Nightshade some manners.

The aforementioned woman back winged and spiraled down toward a burned out factory in the industrial section. One skylight had previously been shattered; granting access to what at one time had been the office floor of the factory. The Sky Tyrant glided gently inside after the retreating woman.

The moment the powered armor suit touched down inside, several hundred candles ignited with an audible ‘whuff’. They lit a space that looked like the scene from a century old vampire movie.

The walls were covered with alien writing; scrawled in seemingly whatever medium had presented itself at the time. The few desks that had survived were covered with glasses and jars containing assorted bits of flotsam and jetsam, some of which bubbled or smoked eerily. Cages held small animals of various shapes captive with only improvised dishes of water of sustenance. Blackened chains, presumably scavenged from the factory below hung from the ceiling in macabre imitation of intestines. In one corner, a makeshift forge had been built from a cement caster filled with coal.

There was no sign of the winged woman. Scuff turned the armor in a slow circle, Tesla Arc at the ready.

“You feel it… don’t you?” Morganna’s voice came from somewhere in the darkness. Scuff launched a bolt of electricity in that direction. He only managed to burn a few flowering plants that had been placed in the corner.

“Your machine… it listens now.” The voice was behind him now and he sent a burst of gunfire into a desk’s worth of glass implements.

“My… my gift for helping to show him. He is… powerful. He… will understand. This… this body knows he will.”

“What the hell is going on here?!” Scuff demanded. He tried to switch on his floodlights only to find that they weren’t working.

“You… you gain power from it. You…worry. About losing that power.” Morganna’s voice came from everywhere at once now. “I will make you one with that power.”

Light flared underneath the Sky Tyrant, a dark, blood color that threw sinister shadows around the room. Error messages exploded in Scuff’s head and he screamed. The Sky Tyrant’s flight systems failed and he came down on his knees in the center of a five pointed star drawn in light on the floor.

“Tell him!” Morganna’s voice boomed. She hadn’t been from inside the room at all, Scuff realized. She was in his head.

His body felt as if it was melting, on fire. Roaring in pain, he fired the Arc and his machine gun wildly about the room, hoping to catch his tormenter before losing consciousness. Steam rose from the weapons as they overheated and locked, leaving Scuff’s own screams as the only sounds in the room.

As he wavered and collapsed within the pentacle, he heard shrill, gleeful laughter.

TELL HIM.

-- • --

“You’re looking a little spacey.” Alexis observed as she got out of the pool. She had caught Ian watching the ice melt in his soda.

“Eh?” Ian jumped a bit at the sudden noise. “Oh, sorry, I was just thinking.” He shrugged and took a drink.

Alexis made an amused sound as she picked up her towel from the back of a chair and briskly began drying her hair. “About anything interesting?” She asked from within the blue terrycloth depths of the towel.

Ian shrugged again. “Not really. I was just thinking that it’s been nice and peaceful lately. I never thought things would get back to normal so quickly. Especially after the whole Morganna thing.”

“I wouldn’t call this ‘normal’” Alexis sat down in the chair Laurel had previously occupied. “We’re still on the run for all intents and purposes and you and Laurel are three thousand miles from home.”

“Seattle was nice, yeah.” Ian said, “But this is nice too.” He put every ounce of optimism he had behind his voice. “I mean we’re basically living a millionaire lifestyle thanks to Mr. Brant’s very shady bank accounts. No need to fight two hours of traffic to get to work, or even having to work period. We’re free to pretty much do whatever we want.”

Alexis blinked. She had never considered the positive aspects of their current situation. There were definite perks; living in what was essentially a mansion, a brand new car, having her two dearest friends back in her life again… But she never took time to consider it in the midst of all her worries about the kids and being found by the Academy.

“You never thought of it that way.” Ian seemingly read her mind.

“What makes you think that?” she asked slowly.

“Because you haven’t really let yourself think of it. You’ve been wound extremely tight the last four months. I’ve never seen you nearly as freaked as this thing with the Academy has you. I-I’m… worried about you.”

Alexis shook her head. “Who said I was freaked out? Or tightly wound for that matter?” her voice came out more shrill than she intended.

“No one had to, Alexis. Granted, I hadn’t seen you in a couple of years before this all happened, but I refuse to believe you’ve changed that much from the girl I knew back in school.” Ian fidgeted with his drink. He hadn’t intended to push this far. He hadn’t intended to push at all, but he thought that this was something Alexis needed.

“You changed.” Alexis said defensively. “You’re way more confident than you were before. And more assertive too. We’d never have had this conversation back in the day.”

“Yeah, but you haven’t, Alexis.” Ian asserted. “I’ve seen you let your guard down. When you get all amped up and the adrenaline makes you forget all the crap that’s been put on you; like when we were in Florida, or Raleigh – hell just after the fight at the zoo, you were almost totally back to your old self for a while.”

Alexis’s eyes flashed dangerously. “The old me would have gotten us killed, Ian. Back then, I would have fought the Academy tooth and nail until the Enforcers killed me.” She shook her head, “But now I’m not the only one I have to look out for. Those kids…”

“Those kids do a pretty good job handling themselves.” Ian said. “Otherwise, with all the time they spend out of the house, I’m sure we’d have heard about some extraordinary gratuitous uses of power.”

“But someone still has to—“

“I’m not saying we should abandon them, Alexis. Hell, I’m going to be honest and say I’m going to miss them when we finally get them back where they belong. But we have to live our own – wow…” Ian blinked at his own words.

“What?” Alexis inclined her head in confusion.

“Nothing, I just gave this same speech before to Warrick.” Ian suddenly stood up. “Look, I suck at giving advice, so let’s do it this way—how about you and I go out tonight? Catch a movie, have some dinner – maybe find a club that plays music other than the crap that’s been out the last couple of years.”

“Are you serious?” Alexis asked, staring at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“Of course I am.” Ian said. “You need to get out of the house and away from worrying about the kids. They’re not even at home now, so what better time to play hooky?”

Chewing her lip, Alexis thought on it. She really had put her all into being den mother around Freeland House. But Ian didn’t understand how much of this she felt was her fault… her responsibility. “Ian, I don’t understand how you can be so…”

“Impulsive? Exciting?” Ian guessed with the parody of an arrogant smirk on his lips.

“I was going to say reckless, but I think I was being too harsh.”

“You should make it up to me then.” Ian grinned, “By buying the popcorn.”

Warrick was sitting at one of Laurel’s work benches, nervously fiddling with some spare parts when she entered the workroom. He was so absorbed in what he was doing, that he didn’t notice her.

“Is that an electromagnet?” She asked, peering over his shoulder.

The young Italian fumbled the length of wire he had been coiling with his powers and sat bolt upright. “Uh… kind of. I used to build these sorts of things all the time when I was little. Sort of a hobby. I was a pretty nervous kid and it helped me relax.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I once made a magnetic grapple strong enough to hold Tammy – my little sister – up. Of course, that was before my powers started… and I didn’t really need that kind of thing anymore.”

Laurel sat down and took a look at what he’d been working on. “You’ve wanted to be a prelate since before the word was even in the media, haven’t you? I mean, I don’t think you just wanted a grapple launcher just to torment your sister.”

“She liked playing the guinea pig, actually.” Warrick smiled at the memory. “Until she got old enough to try the same thing on me.” He stared straight ahead for a moment. “I wonder how she’s been getting along… you know, without me. She was upset about the idea of me going off to school. Me being gone for this long must…” He shut his mouth with an audible clack, but the thought was still in his head.

“You’ll see her again.” Laurel reassured. “It’s only a matter of time before we figure something out.”

“Let’s, uh, not talk about this anymore.” Warrick said, picking up his book bag and letting the tentacles extract the heavy book. “We need to deal with this thing right now. Morganna was pretty confident she could deal with me with it.”

Laurel traced the inward spiraling triangle that was pressed into the leather cover of the book. “Then why did she leave it?”

“The thug in the black powered armor – she called him Sky Tyrant – he shot her and she dropped it. Then she sort of fixated on him and his suit. She’s freaky. Kind of like a kid with no attention span.”

One of Laurel’s many computer screens sprang to life of its own volition and Kareem’s image appeared. The rosy haze of the Astral Plane rippled strangely around him. “I do not mean to interrupt.” Kareem apologized, “but a strange phenomenon is occurring on the Astral Plane.”

“Another astral storm?” Laurel asked, wheeling her chair over to the screen. “We just found out Morganna’s active again and she may be using whatever magic that caused the original ones again.”

“It is not the same.” Kareem shook his head. “Where I compared the original storms to a large object thrown into a pool, what is happening now is similar to a hard rain on the surface of the pool. Many, many small events are happening in rapid succession and it is having an effect on the integrity of the Astral itself.”

“You’re the expert on this subject, Kareem, what does that sort of thing mean? What could be causing it?” Laurel asked.

“I cannot speculate on what could be causing it, Ms. Brant. But I can already sense things on the Material Plane that I would not normally be able to. The interference is destabilizing the boundary between the two planes. I cannot imagine what far reaching effects this might…” he trailed off. “That book...”

Warrick blinked. “What, you’ve seen it before?”

“No, I have not. However, that book exists on the Astral Plane as well. And it looks very different from this side.”

“I don’t get it…” Warrick frowned.

“I don’t expect you to, Warrick.” Laurel explained. “Most people wouldn’t. You see, the Astral Plane is a world of ambient energy – the energy that psionics with mental powers manipulate to affect other minds. Think of it like a dreamscape, except the dreams are made up of emotions. Physical things on this plane don’t normally show up on the Astral.”

She waited for Warrick to nod that he understood. “The only way things show up on the Astral is if they left an emotional impression on someone. The emotional echoes make a sort of shadow copy in the Astral. A lot of couples spent their honeymoons or romantic weekends at Freeland House, for example, so Freeland House shows up on the Astral.” She picked up a stress ball from beside her main keyboard. “Things like this stress ball don’t have Astral shadows because there’s not enough emotion applied to it.”

Kareem nodded. “But this book… it has a strong enough emotional resonance, that it is physically both in your world and this one. In fact, there is writing on the cover on this side… It says ‘The Book of Reason’”

“Reason’s never been Morganna’s strong suit.” Warrick said, “Is this thing to make her less… whack-job? Or maybe it’s like a spell book? I mean she is like some medieval spellcaster, right?”

“I wouldn’t rule anything out when it comes to her.” Laurel said, “But you should leave that to me. For now, I’m more concerned that she’s out on the prowl again. I want you to go back into town and fill Cyn and Juniper in on what’s going on.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to call them?”

“Safety in numbers, young Kaine.” Laurel said sagely. “call them on the way, but I want Lifesavers, Inc at full strength if Morganna shows up again.” She looked over at Kareem’s image on the computer. “Meanwhile, Kareem, would you be so kind as to help me study this book? Since we know Morganna can manipulate the Astral, there maybe something more to it’s presence on the Astral Plane than simple emotional resonance.”

“Of course, Ms. Brant. Anything I can do to help.” Kareem said.

“Great. Let’s get on it then. There’s not telling what that woman is up to.”

“We have signal.” Rick Charlotte’s voice said. “No visuals yet, but diagnostics are coming in now, sir.” There was a pause. “Something’s not right though. Some of these systems are reading at over one hundred percent capacity.”

“I don’t really give a damn about readings, Charlotte; just find out what the hell that little bitch Farnsworth did to my expensive machinery.” Liedecker snapped.

Scuff groaned and rolled over on his stomach. His body hurt all over, like severe sunburn. “I’m…” He groaned, getting up onto his knees. “Up, sir. I think I need a doctor before…” He stopped, opening his eyes.

He was still in the factory. It was still dark, lit only by candles, meaning he had either been unconscious a very short time or a very long time. A few wisps of acrid smoke drifted up from the pentacle burned in the floor around him. Then it hit him – he was in his flight suit and nothing else.

“Visuals are back.” Rick noted. “Singer, stop panning the cameras so fast, I can’t get any clean visuals.”

Ignoring the odd statement, Scuff grit his teeth. “The armor’s gone.” He said bitterly. “The bitch took it.” Breathing hard, he looked around. “Where are you anyway?”

“What in the hell are you talking about, Singer?” Liedecker demanded.

Realization dawned on Scuff. Rick and Liedecker weren’t in the room. But if the armor was gone, so were its communications systems and headset. “How can I hear them?” He asked himself aloud.

“In the… the Old World,” Morganna appeared from the shadows. “They… they used it to bind man and beast. A curse. Today, they call it lycanthropy.” Her eyes shone with glee as she discussed the only subject that mattered to her. “I used it to bind man and machine.”

“What the hell is she on about?” Rick asked. Now Scuff knew that he was hearing the communication in his head. The armor wasn’t gone; it was part of him now.

“You’ve got the address, Charlotte, send someone there right goddamn now, you hear me?” Liedecker ordered.

Scuff froze. Not because he was afraid, or surprised, but because Morganna was in his head again, forcing him to. She sauntered over to him and with her mystically enhanced strength, lifted him to his feet.

Morganna let Scuff stand on his own and ran a finger down his arm. She knew what he was thinking. “Yes, Sky Tyrant. It is inside you now. In pieces… pieces on the Astral Plane. Call it.” She squeezed his arm and there was a blinding flash of sensation. Rosy colored light spilled forth and familiar black armor encased Scuff’s arm. Surprisingly, he could still feel the heat of Morganna’s hand through it.

He shivered. “I’m some kind of were-cyborg now?” His teeth ground and he was suddenly free of Morganna’s mind.

“You are more.” Morganna smiled like a delighted child. “Stronger. Better. All for showing him this place.”

“Mr. Singer?” Liedecker growled in his head. “New plan. Kill the bitch, please.”

“Yes sir.” Scuff affirmed. The whole of the Sky Tyrant armor emerged from the Astral, ensconcing him completely. Without hesitation, he slammed his palm full force into Morganna’s chest, tossing her back into a wall.

Laughing, she retrieved a feather from her bag and reactivated her winged flight spell. She took to the air just ahead of a scorching blast from Sky Tyrant’s plasma lance.

“Once more… again. Follow.” Morganna laughed, flying out the broken skylight.

Roaring with anger, Scuff took to the skies. Fury nearly blinded him. He had been changed, transformed into something inhuman. All that he was demanded vengeance and the ‘gift’ Morganna had given him was the perfect instrument to attain it. He pushed his flight systems to the maximum, barreling after his ‘creator’ into downtown Mayfield.

-- • --

Morganna banked sharply, narrowly avoiding another shot from Sky Tyrant’s plasma lance. She had led him on a merry chase back and forth over the city and between its buildings. Their fight had attracted the attention of the whole of Mayfield; sirens wailed on the streets below and they occasionally crossed paths with police air patrols and news helicopters, both of which weren’t nearly agile enough to keep up with them.

And yet, she hadn’t attracted the response she had hoped for. “Where… are they?” she muttered aloud. Everything she had learned about psionics pointed to a group of powerful ones that supposedly protected the city; Life Savers, Inc. Thus, she had concluded that that she needed only to endanger the city to draw them out. But even leading the enraged Sky Tyrant in a wild firefight across the city hadn’t done the trick.

Below, she spied the West Truman Bridge, spanning the St. Anne River and connecting northern Mayfield to the industrial southern end. She smiled while dodging a burst from the Tesla Arc. Perhaps she merely needed a proper arena to orchestrate her battle.

“I’m really sorry we got cut short.” Juniper was saying to Kay as the other girl boarded a bus with Lisa. “We’ll hang out tomorrow after school to talk about those new songs, okay?”

“Good plan.” Kay said. “See you all tomorrow then. Tell Ms. Brant I said to feel better.” She waved as the bus door closed. Lisa waved to them from one of the windows.

“The only person that’s sick is me.” Cyn grumbled, watching the bus pull away. “Sick of that lunatic dictating our lives.” She folded her arms indignantly. “You know what we should do? We should suit up and go after her.”

Warrick and Juniper blinked at her in surprise.

“No, seriously, think about it; she’s probably out looking for that book right now – if that Sky Tyrant guy hasn’t taken her out already. She wouldn’t expect us to hunt her instead of the other way around.”

“But Mr. Smythe and Ms. Keyes barely stopped her last time.” Juniper pointed out. “Not that I don’t have faith in our powers…”

“You never use your powers.” Cyn interjected.

“I do when it’s necessary.” Juniper calmly replied. “What I was saying though, is that I’m wondering what we can do with her once we do catch up to her? Local police have enough trouble detaining psionics, let alone ancient sorcerers.”

“Technically she’s a sorceress.” Warrick said thoughtfully, ignoring the glare from Cyn. “Anyway, she may be easier to shut down than a psionic. She seems to need to use magic words and hand movement to do most of the impressive stuff. Plus, if she’s anything like a wizard from a book or a game, she’s going to need magic ingredients to do anything really long lasting.”

“We’re using roleplaying games as viable intelligence sources now?” Cyn raised any eyebrow.

“Why not? She’s literally using magic spells and what I’m pretty sure is a spell book, so why can’t this be true too?”

“He has a point.” Juniper said.

Cyn sighed. “Fine, so she’d Gandalfina the Black. How does that help the ‘what to do with her afterward’ problem?”

“Simple.” Warrick said. “We take away her toys and—“

He was cut off by the scream of a siren. A Mayfield PD air patrol cruiser roared overhead, its red and blues flashing brightly. It was followed almost immediately by a second and then a third.

What could that be about?” Juniper asked, “You hardly even see one air patrol in a day…”

“We’ll know in a second…” Cyn said, fishing a thumb sized rectangular device from her purse.

“Since when do you have a police scanner?” Warrick asked as he was handed an earpiece.

“Seemed like good standard equipment for a defender of the city.” Cyn shrugged, handing Juniper a second earpiece. “You never know when you’ll need—“

“Ms. Keyes!” Juniper said, looking up and waving. The black convertible had just stopped at the light across from them. Ian was in the passenger seat. “She’s already stopped Morganna once; she may have an idea on how to do it again.”

“No way.” Cyn shook her head. “If she finds out about us, it’s the end of Life Saver’s, Inc.”

Warrick was already headed for the car. “But Juniper’s right, Cyn. She and Mr. Smythe know more about how to deal with her than we do and they never told us many details about what happened with the Ape Knight. They’re our best chance to stop her.”

Cyn narrowed her eyes and followed, flipping on her scanner.

Ian had spent most of the evening trying not to gawk. Alexis looked absolutely beautiful in the white dress she had changed into. He felt extremely underdressed in his ratty sport coat. He frowned down at himself. He had been forced to buy a whole new wardrobe upon arrival in Mayfield; even the clothes he’d worn that night had been shredded and bloodied by Prometheus. How, he wondered, was it even possible for his coat to have become so worn looking in that time.

“That was actually a lot of fun.” Alexis said, not noticing his self inventory. “The Overwhelming franchise was my favorite way back when – who’d have thought it’d be up to six movies by now?”

“I wouldn’t have.” Ian replied. “It sort of tanked in Overwhelming IV, when they killed off Alice to prove the villain was evil.”

“Wait, Alice was in the movie we just watched…”

“It’s complicated, but she got resurrected in the fifth movie, Vessel of God. That’s why she was all goodness and light to everyone in this one.

“Well, I’m glad she’s back in any event.” Alexis shrugged. “I’m really glad we ended up going out, I really needed that.” She slowed to a stop at a red light. “And you were right, I was so concerned about the kids, I wasn’t really myself. I’ll try and keep things more… balanced from now on.”

“But not tonight, apparently.” Ian sighed.

“What do you mean? Weren’t we…” Alexis looked up to see Cyn nearly run into the side of the car and start pounding on the passenger window. Warrick and Juniper weren’t far behind.

“—got big, big trouble.” Cyn was saying when the window came down. She thrust her hand through the open window and clicked on the speaker on her police scanner, allowing the squawking noise of the police communications into the car.

“—down! Repeat unit twelve is down and not responding, control. The bridge is blockaded. Repeat, we have an unidentified psionic engaging an individual in unregistered, custom armor on the West Truman Bridge. Officers down. There are civilians still on the bridge and a blockade preventing ground units—“Cyn clicked the device off.

“It’s Morganna.” She said gravely.

“Get in.” Alexis said sharply.

“But—“Warrick started.

“The West Truman Bridge is all the way across town.” Alexis explained as the youths piled into the back of the car. “It’s going to be a pain getting there even with Laurel giving us all green lights.”

“We’re going to go fight her?” Juniper asked, more surprised than pensive.

“She isn’t giving us much choice.” Ian said before Alexis could think about what she had just said. “A lot of innocent people are in danger and the police honestly can’t handle Morganna.”

“Well, it started out as a pleasant evening on the town.” Alexis frowned, putting in a call to Laurel.

“Wait, you two are dating?” Cyn and asked.

Scuff breathed hard through his nose. The thick smoke had forced him to land just to see where he was going. Morganna hadn’t fought back the entire time he’d chased her but upon sighting the bridge, she had called down the fury.

The deck of the suspension bridge was in disarray, holes gouged out of it from spell-fire, strewn with hastily abandoned cars. Shouts and screams from somewhere beyond the wall of smoke told Scuff that the occupants of those cars hadn’t been able to escape the bridge.

“What? Are you going to hide behind hostages now?” Scuff snarled, using his external speakers to amplify his voice. “It won’t save you. I’ll just go through them to get to you, bitch.”

“I don’t… don’t want you anymore.” Morganna’s voice came though the haze. Now without her wings, she was standing on top of a car that had crashed into a guardrail. “This… this is for them. They will come.”

“First, you were after ‘him’, now you’re after ‘them’.” Scuff mocked. “I don’t think even you know what the hell you’re talking about.” He raised his machine gun. There was a whir and a click, but nothing happened. He was out of ammo for the machine gun. Now that he thought of it, he became aware that his plasma lance fuel was low as well and Liedecker hadn’t allowed Gear to load his missile racks.

“You already let… him know.” Morganna chuckled. “He’s… he’s watching right now. Watching through your eyes. Maybe now… he understands.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” Liedecker growled through the com link now in Scuff’s head. “She’s talking about me. That brain dead, half baked little wench has been playing with me! She’s keeping still now, Singer. Finish her off!”

“He’ll… he’ll go and see it for himself…” Morganna smiled, watching Scuff level his plasma lance. “the magic… it is power beyond his dreams.”

Scuff charged the shot to full before firing. With infinite calm, Morganna tossed a handful of pennies into the air and spoke a word of power. Arcs of red energy reflected off each penny as it hovered in the air before her. The shot from the plasma lance pierced the cloud of energized coinage and began to rebound within, like an animal caged.

“Interesting weapon.” Morganna motioned and imprisoned bolt leapt out to catch the Sky Tyrant squarely in the chest, knocking him backward into the side of an SUV. “I… I will harness it once I have the psionics.”

“Psionics? What the hell? Why are you after psionics?” Scuff demanded. “And what does that have to do with what you did to me!?”

“Everything!” Morganna screeched. She took some flower pedals out of her bag and threw them into the air. A stiff wind began to kick up, drawing the smoke back from the bridge like a curtain.

Groaning, Scuff felt Morganna once more invade his mind and was compelled to activate his flight systems. He flew up and could now get a clear look at the bridge. Either end was sealed off by a tangle of thorny vines, some as thick around as his thigh. People, those caught on the bridge when Morganna had attacked, were huddled together in fear in the shadow of one of the towers. “Why the are you doing this?” Scuff asked, straining hopelessly against Morganna’s control.

“They… they will come.” Morganna said. “They have to come. To protect… the people. From you.” She asserted her control on him fully once more and he began to charge the Tesla Arc, aiming at the frightened citizens.

Bullets rained down from above. Two police air patrols poured everything they had into the Sky Tyrant, forcing it to the ground.

“No!” Morganna screamed, sending her invisible knives to slash at the aircraft. One was out of range, but the second was close enough for her to sever its fuel line. It whined as it began to lose altitude.

“We’ve got to do something!” Cyn cried, watching the police vehicle crash land on the bridge deck. The convertible was a few blocks from the bridge, as close as the traffic would allow. “She’s going to kill everyone on that bridge.

Alexis chewed her lip. She couldn’t allow that. But she also couldn’t drag the kids into it. Sighing heavily, she opened the roof. “Ian, keep an eye on them.” She said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “I’m going to go after Morganna alone.” With that, she activated her black heat and flew from the car.

“Wait,” Cyn frowned. “She’s going to go save the day, but we’re not allowed to?”

“Like hell.” Ian said, turning around to the kids. “Warrick, Juniper can you use your powers at this range?” They both nodded. “Good, get ready to. She can’t get mad if no one actually sees you using them.”

“What about me?” Cyn demanded.

“You and I are going to have to sit this one out.” Ian said.

Morganna frowned at the devastation she had wrought. The other police vehicle was circling around, buffeted too strongly by her mystic wind to take a proper shot. Satisfied that it was no longer a threat, she turned her attention back to the Sky Tyrant.

“Now… let us try this…” Hissing motes of black heat stung her skin, breaking her concentration. “You!” she exclaimed, spotting the woman shaped void that was the source of the attack.

“Me.” Alexis affirmed. “You remember me from last time, don’t you?”

Morganna grinned malevolently. “Finally. I have waited for you… you and the others. Abominations. Monsters. I will end you and make your power mine!” She reached into her bag. “Behold, the—“Her hand failed to close on what she was seeking. “No…” she murmured. “No, no, no! The book!” She began rummaging in the bag frantically as Alexis dove toward her.

The two women collided, Morganna’s bag spilling its contents over the concrete.

“No!” Morganna shrieked, kicking Alexis away and scrambling on her hands and knees to pick up some of her fallen reagents. Her fingers stopped a fraction of an inch away from them – they were encased in a solid crust of ice. “What… what is—“Something hit her from behind, sending her sprawling head first into the side of a pickup truck. A trio of propane tanks rattled in the bed.

She turned to see that one of the cables from the bridge had animated, whipping the air, attempting to strike at her.

“It looks like I’ve got a little help.” Alexis said, standing up from where she had landed. “This is how it ends, Morganna. Without your little spell casting kit, there’s not a lot of options left.” She took a step forward. “We both know your stolen psionic power won’t work on me.” She bluffed the last part, praying Morganna wouldn’t call her on it.”

“No.” a tired, angry voice said. The pickup was lifted jerkily into the air. The Sky Tyrant’s black visored face seemed to glare at Morganna. “THIS is how it ends.”

“Wait, we can’t kill her.” Alexis pointed out. “That’d make us as bad as her.”

“Correction.” The Sky Tyrant’s speakers barked. “You can’t kill her. But she already made me just as bad as her.” With that, he hurled to half ton vehicle at the sorceress. Morganna had tried to leap clear, but Scuff had flung the truck laterally instead of downward. It clipped her at the knees and the momentum threw her into the bed. The truck turned missile sailed between the bridge cables before plunging toward the St. Anna River below.

Roaring in victory, Scuff flew over to the edge of the bridge deck, charging the Tesla Arc. “Now die!”

The next few moments seemed to move in slow motion. Alexis threw herself at Sky Tyrant, screaming as blue electricity flooded form his weapon and into the falling truck. She slammed into him, knocking him to the ground, just as the propane tanks ignited. As the fireball blossomed up to devour her, she was taken off her own feet by a golden figure with wings. The fire never touched her, but the shockwave knocked her out.

-- • --

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Laurel fussed as she and Alexis entered the her workshop.

“Yes, mom.” Alexis rolled her eyes playfully. “Melissa healed me back to pristine condition. Though the side effect is that I’ve been ravenous all morning.”

“Oh, I can tell.” Laurel smirked, heading over to her favorite chair. “Between you and Cyn, a small army has been deprived of food this day.”

Alexis chuckled a bit, and then sat down nearby. “So, any news from the bridge?”

“Not a bit.” The dark skinned woman said, “And that’s what worries me. Sky Tyrant going missing is to be expected—modern cloaking technology and all. However, there’s been no sign of Morganna in the wreckage.”

“So she’s still out there?”

“Hard to say.” Laurel frowned. Kareem told me there was another massive astral storm at the time of the explosion; bigger than any of the previous ones. That would suggest that Morganna tried to shift into the Astral Plane physically. Since the storm was bigger…”

“You think she was too late.” Alexis interrupted. “That the explosion followed her in.”

“It’s quite possible.” Laurel said. “Though I won’t be able to tell for sure until we investigate the Astral Plane at the point of the breech.”

“Doesn’t that involve astral projection and staying close to your unconscious body? Even if we were capable of it, I doubt that the local authorities will be thrilled to have a boat full of prostrate bodies floating on their river.”

“True.” Laurel said, “But we already know someone who is astrally projected.”

“Kareem?” Alexis blinked, “But he’s still subject to the problem with staying close to your body.”

“But not, apparently, the problem of spending extended periods out of it.” Laurel said with a gleam in her eye. “He’s willing to test some theories…”

Alexis knew better than to get caught discussing concepts she didn’t understand. “Speaking of Kareem, he told me that Warrick found the book Morganna was planning to use on us?”

“Headache of the century, I’m afraid.” Laurel shook her head. “It’s written in archaic French… on the Astral Plane. I’m working with Kareem to scan it all to file format, but from what I’m seeing… it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. It’s based on some kind of medieval Zen training with mind/body elements that make the most advanced martial arts look like finger painting.”

“Considering that this is coming from the woman that’s learned six different martial arts over the course of a summer, I’m feeling pretty confident in our resident genius figuring out what that was supposed to do and making sure it doesn’t… do… that.” Alexis stumbled over her words, making both of them laugh.

Cyn made it a point to bang her lunch tray forcefully onto the cafeteria table.

“Another bad day?” Warrick asked, closing his sketch book and stowing his pencil behind his ear.

“Miserable.” Cyn groused, sitting down. “Not only has nothing gotten better in my classes, but everyone’s talking about the new prelate that fought the two psychos on the West Truman Bridge last night.” Even in her bitterness, Cyn managed to put her thoughts into terms that wouldn’t implicate her as knowing who those involved were. “They’re calling her Void-storm. And it seems the smoke kept the channel 5 news chopper from getting footage of Facsimile saving her life.”

“Void-storm?” Warrick smirked, “Wow, that’s just horrible.” Cyn didn’t look amused. “In any event, I’m sure Facsimile would just be happy that… er… Void-storm is okay. Plus, she realizes that being a prelate isn’t about being famous.”

“It’s a pretty good perk.” Cyn frowned, more at the disappointment she perceived in his voice than anything else. “Plus, it’s only fair she gets credit where credit is due.”

Kay interrupted them, sitting down with her brown bagged lunch. “Afternoon, my fellow paper miners.” She grinned.

“Hey, Kay.” Cyn said, switching subjects. “Sorry again about us having to leave last night.”

Kay shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. You guys must be really close to Ms. Brant to go home to look after your apartment manager.”

“Laurel’s a really nice person.” Cyn said truthfully. “It’s the least we could do after what she does for us.” She looked over Kay’s shoulder, spotting something that made her glare.

“Trouble?” Warrick asked, following her gaze.

“Lilly Goldenmeyer and her flock.” Cyn said flatly, indicating a tall brunette, flanked by four others. All were wearing the exact same powder blue outfit. “Honestly, how is ‘conserv’ even a fashion if they all wear the exact same thing as one another every day?”

“I think that’s the point.” Kay said, glancing back at them as they glided across the cafeteria floor in their general direction. “They’re not even hardcore about it. In the magazines, they even wear the same hair style.”

“Everyday, in every conceivable way, I wake up thanking God I don’t know this stuff.” Warrick groaned.

The self styled hyper-conformists altered their path to intercept that of Elizabeth von Stoker and the young man walking with her. As they passed, Lilly pretended to stumble, elbowing Elizabeth’s tray out of her hands and onto the floor. Upon seeing this, the entire little gang stopped and laughed.

“Next time, watch where you’re going, freak!” Lilly smirked, as Elizabeth knelt to pick up her fallen items. When this didn’t draw a response, she kicked the tray, sending what didn’t spill to the floor to join the rest.

“Hey!” Leave my sister alone!” the young man with Elizabeth snarled, moving to block another move against his sibling.

“Now do you see why I hate them?” Cyn growled, watching the scene.

“Yeah.” Warrick said, standing up.

“Er, Kaine…” Kay asked, “You can’t exactly go over there and kick their asses.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “No matter how awesome that would be.”

Warrick didn’t say anything. He just walked over to where Lilly and her gaggle of friends were verbally berating Elizabeth’s brother.

“This should be good.” Cyn said.

“If you hate them so much, why aren’t you doing anything?” Kay asked.

“I’m more of a schemer than an overt kind of person.” Cyn replied quickly. “When I get back at them, it’ll be at the end of a needlessly complicated plot. Until then, Warrick can take care of the ‘defending the weak’ shtick. He’s really good at it.”

Meanwhile, Warrick stepped up between two of Lilly’s friends. “Well, I think they’ve learned their lesson.” He said. He noticed Elizabeth’s brother was wearing a shirt with the logo of the science fiction television show Planet Zero. “Dude!” He said, cutting off whatever Lilly had been saying, “Seriously that was an awesome show. Did you see the TV movie they did for it?”

Elizabeth’s brother blinked, confusion playing on his darkly tanned face.

“Sorry.” Warrick said, maneuvering himself in front of Lilly, who was trying to speak again, and extending his hand. “The name is Kaine. Warrick Kaine to be specific.”

“Uh… Rich von Stoker.” Elizabeth’s brother hesitantly shook the offered hand.

“Excuse me!” Lilly shouted, trying to step around Warrick.

“So anyway, did you ever see the 2060 version of Blue Dawn? Planet Zero’s pilot totally ripped it off.”

“I… no, actually, I never saw that.” Rich said, starting to catch on. His sister finished picking up the things that were salvageable from her tray and blinked at Warrick through a cascade of black bangs.

“Now look here!” Lilly shrilled, grabbing Warrick’s shoulder. She jumped back at least a foot when he suddenly rounded on her.

“Excuse me?” Warrick said, laying his Brooklyn accent on thicker than it ever was normally. “I’m trying to have a conversation with my new pal Rich here and you keep rudely interrupting.” He gave her a withering look. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you; putting your hands on people like that. It’s not civil at all, you know.” He took a step toward her as the blue clad instigator stepped back. “You don’t even know me… hell; you don’t even know Rich and Liz either. So why don’t you just mind your business?”

Lilly’s eyes seemed to expand two sizes. Not many people managed to catch her off guard and she wasn’t prepared to vary her usual tactics for browbeating people into submission. “Uh…”

“Thought so.” Warrick shrugged, turning back to Rich. “So, like I was saying; Planet Zero was fun and all, but they ripped off everyone.”

Looking back at her equally taken aback followers, Lilly sniffed. “Come on.” She growled and strode away in a huff.

“Thanks for that, I guess.” Rich said, “Though I probably could have handled it.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” Warrick shrugged. “They mess with my friend over there too and she shouldn’t have to put up with that kind of crap either. I’m just sorry someone had to do that.”

“That was nice of you.” Elizabeth said with a slight smile. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Warrick said, heading back toward his table.

“See?” Cyn said to Kay. “Now he’s a hero to all the poor picked on geeks of the school. We get all the perks of being his friend and get none of the responsibility.”

“That’s clever and underhanded.” Kay said, “you were right about being a schemer.” She made a false bow. “Teach me your ways, Master.”

Cyn grinned and took a bite out of her apple. “Stick with us, Kay, and this year is going to be way better than it started.”

The men taking visual records of the factory office that had been Morganna’s lair worked extra cautiously. The strange symbols and ritualistic elements weren’t what bothered them. They were used to documenting murder scenes and cleaning them up. However, the presence of Vincent Liedecker in the flesh had them completely on edge.

He and Brill stood in the center of the room, watching the hired help set up three dimensional imaging equipment and taking measurements. Liedecker looked almost casual in shirtsleeves and a fedora atop his head.

“Get my real estate people on the phone, Brill.” He said, leaning over to inspect a still bubbling flask. “I expect to own this place in the next twenty four hours.”

“Y-yes sir.” Brill said, eyeing the room warily as he extricated his cell phone.

Meanwhile, Liedecker opened his notebook computer and opened his video link with Rick Charlotte. “You getting all this, Charlotte?”

“Every bit, sir, but it doesn’t really make much sense right now. Background radiation and EM fields are fluctuating wildly within a small variance… like a plucked guitar string…”

“English, Charlotte.” Liedecker demanded. “What was Farnsworth doing in here?”

“No idea, sir.” Rick said nervously. “What I was just talking about? It’s the kind of reading you’d get near a fully operational weapons installation during a firing sequence.”

“I will note,” Liedecker sneered, “That there are no lasers flying around the place.”

“No lasers, sir, but something is causing energy to fluctuate in there – rapidly, from one state to another – maybe from one object or another. The instruments don’t lie, sir.”

“So all this funny writing, all the occult symbols, the candles, the little fuzzy animals—they’re generating some kind of energy? Usable energy?”

“Usable if you figure out how to use it.” Rick affirmed. “I know it makes no sense, but—“

“Charlotte, Kevin Singer is now a cybernetic werewolf. I think we took leave of anything resembling ‘sense’ the second she cut up my men at that museum, don’t you?” Liedecker picked up a crystal that was glowing softly.

“Er… Calvin Singer, sir. And I don’t think—“

“Are you correcting me, Charlotte? That is a very dangerous damn thing to do, you understand?” Liedecker growled.

“Yes sir, sorry sir. Singer is Gear Callahan’s problem anyway. I understand you promised him a cure for his condition in exchange for his service?” Rick changed the subject quickly.

“I promised to ‘try’ and find one, Charlotte. Try being the operative word there. He’s a powerful living weapon now – and the Sky Tyrant armor was already a substantial investment—of course, I made a promise to keep him in line.” Liedecker chuckled, turning the crystal over in his hand. He tossed it back down on the table and was shocked to see it flare red, burning a gouge in the desk top.

Blinking in disbelief at what he’d just seen, he only needed a few moments to see the potential there; a weapon that was heretofore undetectable by conventional weapon scanners. That alone was worth looking into whatever bizarre thing Farnsworth was engaged in.

Not far from the astral version of the West Truman Bridge, the Astral boiled. In that place, it had never quite settled after the explosion that had rocked it. The occasional flicker of a Material Plane fish darted within the writhing caldron of astral energy. The moment the fish caught even the briefest of glimpses at the roiling sea of rosy light, it flitted away to a safer part of the river.

Nothing smarter than a fish even neared it, shying away by hidden instinct that let higher orders of life; snakes, turtles, birds and even humans, know that in that direction lay danger.

Except for the occasional fish or insect, none drew close enough to realize that occupying that place allowed a view seldom seen by those not capable of astral projection. If they did, they would have noticed an almost insignificant dot of light, no larger than an eyelash—where the omnipresent rose color gave way to verdant green.

End Issue #7