The last Saturday in June was one of those rare few that seem to simply happen instead of dawning as per usual. In the crisp cool air, with the sunlight streaming down amid the singing birds and flitting butterflies, one could hardly imagine the sun struggling over the horizon, chasing wisps of late night clouds and darkness before it. Quite simply, the day just felt too lazy for that sort of dramatic glory. It was a day for just relaxing and enjoying the day.

The events of the previous night had made sure that there was one house where no one would be doing that.

“You know, you don’t have to come today.” Ian said to Cyn as the latter handed him the last of their costumes to pack into the back of her humvee.

The white haired girl regarded him as if he’d just announced that he was the prince of Canada. “What? Everyone’s going. If Laurel and Alexis’s plane wasn’t coming in until noon, they’d be going too.” Ian tried to interrupt her, but it was like trying to hold back an avalanche. “And the only reason Kareem’s not going if because the transmitter boost thingy’s not done.”

Ian sighed and closed the back of the humvee. “I just figured you had a hard night. I was trying to be nice.”

“I’m fine.” Cyn insisted. “I’m not some swoony little girl, you know? I’m a freaking superhero!”

“Your friend got attacked and put in the middle of a fight with Tome.” Ian cut her off. “That would shake anyone up. Especially the whole secret identity thing keeping you from letting her know that everything really will be fine.” He turned and headed back to the house.

Behind his back, Cyn rubbed the back of her head and looked vaguely off into the distance. “Yeah, the secret ID is a killer alright.” She tried to sound genuine, but it was more likely the noise from the kitchen that kept Ian from noticing the lie than any guile on her part.

Warrick, Juniper and Melissa were in the kitchen; Juniper dutifully bringing ingredients to Warrick as he worked at the griddle and Melissa sitting at the far end of the kitchen table. If Ian had to describe what she was doing, it would be ‘reading belligerently’. The room was alive with the sizzle of bacon and eggs.

“I thought I said we were going to be eating on the road.” Ian chided them, but didn’t sound half as authoritative as he’d wanted too because the delicious smell was weakening his resolve.

“We are.” Warrick replied, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. The other arm picked up a large, round piece of bread from a plate beside him. “Behold, sweet corn tortillas: the portable version of the pancake.”

He nodded to Juniper and the brown haired girl took the tortilla and placed it flat on the cutting board. With deft movements of the spatula, she transferred an egg and three strips of bacon to the flat bread. “It was on one of the menus we order lunch from at the museum.” She explained, pouring syrup on top of the assembled food. “Marley Inn’s famous griddlecake burrito.” She finished her construction by quickly wrapping the whole thing up and passing it to Warrick who was ready with a piece of foil to close it up in.

“And… done.” Warrick said, flipping the complete burrito to Cyn who caught it in one hand. “Give it a try.”

“Hey,” Ian frowned. His mouth was watering from the sights and smells. “I’m the one that doubted you. You’re supposed to give it to me so I can eat crow.”

“Sorry.” Juniper smiled sweetly. “No crow, but we can make you some turkey bacon.”

Warrick gave her a sidelong glance, not really knowing if she was joking or not. When he couldn’t confirm or deny, he simply shrugged. “Cyn needs a head start.” He pointed out, patting his best friend on her shoulder as she devoured the culinary treat. “Her powers run on how much she eats and she already had a hell of a time last night.” He inclined his head to her. “Sorry I wasn’t around to help out.”

“Not a problem.” Cyn shrugged. “I didn’t call, so you couldn’t know. Besides, I don’t want to be the reason you have to run out on Tink.”

“She called her ‘Tink’ instead of coppertop.” Juniper whispered to Ian in awe.

That was enough to jump start his previous concern. “He has a point though; You helped us take down Professor P, then fought off a base full of Tome troops and whatever villain convention Shine’s in with now. That must have taken a lot out of you.”

“And I put a lot back into me before I came home.” Cyn countered. “The old guy that runs the hotdog stand on West Warren Street won’t have to worry about this month’s rent, that’s for sure. Anyway, if you guys are taking my car, you have to take me.”

“That reminds me.” Juniper piped up. “Isn’t it a little weird that Shine keeps showing up? I mean the Redeemers, then her claw marks at the construction site, that recruitment thing in New York, now this?”

“Bitch gets around.” Cyn shrugged, finishing off her burrito and licking the foil to get the last dribbles of syrup. “I’m not surprised that no one keeps her around very long to be honest.”

Ian conceded that point. “But still, I don’t like all these cute little coincidences. If she shows up today, we need to catch her, plain and simple. Not just to get her off the street, but because if she’s this well connected, she may be full of useful information.”

“No complaints here.” Warrick nodded. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“Right.” Ian clapped his hands and rubbed them briskly. “Last night, The ROCIC put the lockdown on the Tome anthill Cyn kicked over. Everyone except the scientist Cyn took to the hospital escaped, and they tried to fry their computers too. But they missed a spot.”

He took a seat while Warrick and Juniper went about making the burritos for the road. “Apparently that place was a transfer station where Tome took descendants from Virginia and sent them cross country in their bogus delivery trucks. The SI team managed to pull a transfer that was supposed to happen tomorrow for a kidnapping that they’re going to try today: Joy Michaels Duvall of Virginia Beach.”

“So we get to hang out on the beach and take out any Tome agents that happen by? Sweet.” Cyn beamed.

For the first time since the two had reentered the kitchen, Melissa looked up from her book and spoke. “Isn’t this something those SI teams General Pratt set up should be doing? If Tome is going to be sending agents, shouldn’t they be taking responsibility?”

“The question is ‘do we want them to?’” Ian said, shrugging. He lightly wiped away a bit of sweat that had formed on his brow from the heat of the cooking. “Honestly, General Pratt has been good to us and a big help, but he works for the government and who is in charge of what changes hands often and over politics. My thoughts—and Laurel agrees—“ he added that part for Cyn’s benefit, knowing that she respected his friend’s considerations more than his. “That whenever possible, it should be us dealing with these other descendants. That way, no rogue agency or bureaucrat gets in too deep with them.”

“But they’re still in too deep with us.” Melissa sniffed. “I mean they’re the ones that installed the defenses here, aren’t they?”

Cyn sighed loudly and rolled her eyes. “I knew it was too good to be true; a day of fun and sun and also maybe hurting some guys that really deserve it and we’re saddled with Little Miss Negative.” She gave Ian an imploring look. “Can’t you offer her a chance to stay instead of me?” Melissa gave him the same look, begging not to take part.

Ian shook his head. “You’re free to do whatever you want, but you know I’ll guilt trip you to death. You remember that, don’t you? I mean if you want to leave us with no one to calm down a tweenaged girl who’s about to find out some secret society types want to kidnap her—“

“Fine.” Melissa cut him off. “I’ll go. You knew I was going to anyway.” She shifted her gaze back to her book. “Even after ten years, you’re still annoying.”

“Why do you always have to be so bitchical?” Cyn huffed. She was going to go on further, but Ian held up a hand to stop her.

“Enough.” He intoned. “Please, girls, none of this on the drive out, okay? It’s a two hour drive and I’m going to make you ride on the roof if you can’t get along, understand?”

“Got it covered boss.” Warrick said gesturing to his backpack, sitting in the chair beside Ian. The older man looked inside to see three palm sized, black palm-tops. Noticing Ian’s questioning gaze, Warrick explained. “YIP’s” he said. “Ms. Brant got them for us.”

“Yamauchi Integrated Portables.” Juniper clarified over her shoulder. She was finishing up the last of the burritos. “er… videogames.” She clarified in response to Ian’s silence.

Ian shrugged. “Ah, I remember now. Good, at least you guys have something to keep busy with.” He stood up and put on his most serious expression. “Now let’s saddle up.”

The trip was uneventful, including stopping off on a back road to change into their costumes under cover of a forest. Warrick had packed about a months worth of Freeland House’s recycling to use as Alloy’s armor. Once back in the Ares, the group continued on to The Duvall beach house in the Coleman neighborhood of Virginia Beach.

As a group, they walked up the slate walkway leading to the two story beachfront property. “What a waste of money.” Facsimile said, taking stock.

“What are you talking about?” Hope snapped. “This place is gorgeous.”

“Not the house, the lawn.” Facsimile made a wide gesture to indicate the smooth expanse of sand between the boardwalk and the house. “Sand doesn’t sit still like that. They paid to have it smoothed. That’s…”

“Weird.” Zero finished her thought. “Why would anyone want sand perfectly smooth? You’re still going to walk in it, right?”

“Maybe they’ll use some of that money to hire some bodyguards.” Said Chaos, looking at the house. On the drive up, he’d seen that the beach side of the house was either open or glass enclosed. The beach house would definitely not be the place to ride out any funny business on Tome’s part.

“Well, they’ve already got the best in the business, right?” Alloy asked, walking ahead of the group. “Aside from the Whitecoat, of course.”

“Yeah, but we can’t watch them forever.” Chaos pointed out. “And neither can the SI teams. Hopefully, Codex will score that meeting with Liedecker about the school and we’ll have a safe, secure place for Joy and all the kids on that list to go to.”

“Including a certain precocious little spark plug.” Facsimile said happily. She stepped up beside Alloy and gave him a friendly thump on the back as they reached the door.

Alloy rang the bell and the others fanned out behind them in a manner worthy of a comic book cover. “That’s what’s on my mind.” He admitted. Several minutes passed and he tried the bell a handful of times more.

“Maybe they’re not home.” Zero offered.

“Maybe Tome got here first.” Said the utterly ill named Hope.

“I don’t think so.” Chaos said. “There’s a car in the driveway and I don’t think her parents would let her go without a fight.”

“I don’t know.” Alloy gave the door a questioning look. “Maybe we’ve got the wrong—“ The door opened and Alloy’s view of the plain door was replaced by that of a very tall young woman in a corset, old fashioned style dress and kerchief. “—cleavage.”

Facsimile was quick to put an elbow in his side. “Eyes front, mister.” She hissed.

“They are.” Alloy replied without thinking. “She’s just really tall.” Indeed, she was well on her way to six feet even before the added height of her very complicated not-quite-period shoes and the distance from the doorstep to the door. Everything she had on was grey or a variant thereof and her face was caked with makeup and eyeliner.

Instead of taking offense, the woman swept the group with an expression between bored and mildly amused. After a second of scrutiny, she nodded to them. “Uh… hi?” She reached out and tapped Alloy’s faceplate. “Maureen, is that you? Did you get shorter?” She didn’t give Alloy a chance to respond before making an annoyed noise and pointing to the others. “It’s a Ren Faire, Reeny, not cosplay, I thought I told you that.” She made a face. “And if we were going to do the Descendants, I’d get to be Zero, damn it.”

Chaos stepped forward to cut off her litany. “Ma’am, I’m afraid we’re not your friends in disguise. We are the Descendants.” He anticipated a challenge to prove it and before she could utter it, he held up a hand an hit her with a gentle puff of air. She stared at him, wide eyed. “It’s very important that we talk to your parents. Is your mother home perhaps?”

A bitter laugh escaped her involuntarily. “Yeah, right.” She suddenly realized who she was talking to. “Uh, I mean no… sir. I’m Charity.” She fumbled over her words as reality set in. “None of our moms are around. Like, ever. Dad has sole custody and he’s out west on business.”

Chaos regarded the girl. She couldn’t be any more than eighteen. “So who’s in charge?” He asked.

Charity turned and looked toward the stairs that wound up to the second story and took a deep breath before bellowing. “Glory, there’s people in strange costumes here to see you!”

“You’re one to talk.” Facsimile smirked.

“It’s a special occasion.” Charity shrugged. “We’re taking Joy to the Ren Faire up at Sunrise Park for her birthday.” She smiled at Alloy. “You’d fit right in. Who does your armor anyway? I know guys that would fork over their trust funds for high quality stuff like that?”

“They’d pay for armor like that?” Facsimile glanced over at Alloy, remembering the entire ensemble had been about fifty dollar’s worth of empty cans an hour before.

“I’m afraid there’s not going to be any Faire for you today, Ms. Duvall.” Chaos cut in. “You see we’ve gotten word—“

“Pardon me, Mr. Prelate-at-large…” A voice came from the stairs. A tall, moderately chubby blonde stood atop them like royalty waiting to be announced. “But you are in my father’s house, talking to my sister. You are not allowed to tell her what she will and will not do. Father left me in charge and that is for me to decide, not you.”

-- • --

Keeping her cool glare on the prelates, the new arrival glided down the stairs like a queen reviewing her subjects. Her mannerisms indicated someone used to people doing as she said to the point where her only response to events happening to the contrary was anger.

When she reached the door, she gently pulled Charity aside so that she was between the Descendants and her younger sister. “Glory Duvall, my father’s eldest. While he’s away, I’m in charge here. I’m going to give you one minute to explain why you felt you had any right to barge in here and start ordering my sister around.”

Beneath his visor, Chaos glared. “For one thing, we didn’t barge, ma’am. We’re still outside, actually. For another, we’re not here to give anyone any orders, we’re here to warn and protect you. See—“

“We don’t need protection.” Glory cut him off.

Chaos ignored the interruption and soldiered through. “Your youngest sister, Joy; she attended the Academy last year, right? I’m sure you heard what happened.”

“Yes, and I would like to know where in the hell you got that information.”

“We’re superheroes.” Facsimile shrugged. “We get to do that kind of stuff.”

Chaos gave her a look that told her that now wasn’t the time and in a rare moment, she quieted down. “That’s not important, Ms. Duvall. What’s important is that the same people who were kidnapping students from the Academy are on their way here right now, and they want Joy.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s very important.” Glory struck back. “Because your source could be unreliable, or even someone trying t push you into taking an action they want you to take. Has it occurred to you that maybe they didn’t even know where we were until you came straight here?”

“We found out you were coming here for the summer from Joy’s website.” Zero said helpfully. “And the summer house is public record. Anyone could find you.”

Glory glared at her. “In any event, I think—and my father would agree—that after being shuffled around private schools for the last six months because of the Academy’s problems, Joy deserves a normal summer vacation and a normal birthday.”

“Birthday?” Alloy queried.

“Yeah.” Charity said, tucking her fingers under her arms in an agitated gesture which was at odds with her casual tone. “That’s why we’re going to the Faire; Joy’s always wanted to go to one with my friends and me.” She gave Glory a sidelong look. “Speaking of which, Glo, you’re not in costume.”

Glory sniffed, actually turning her nose up at her sister. “I said I would pay for this trip and promised Father I would keep an eye on you, but there is no way that I’m wearing that ancient torture device and showing off all of my assets to the world.”

“Oh come on!” Charity exploded, forgetting the current situation entirely. “What’s the point if you’re not going to have fun with it?”

“Can we please get back to the problem at hand?” Chaos asked, exasperated. “Your little sister is in danger. We can protect her, but we’re kind of going to need your cooperation.”

Glory left her sister’s protests hanging to jump on the comment. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe there are people who don’t want or need your protection? Do you ever ask before sticking your visor in people’s business?”

“Then why don’t we ask her?” Charity asked, finding a way to both diffuse the situation and get back at her sister.

“That’s insane.” Glory insisted. “She’s a child. She doesn’t understand—“

“Still, she’s got a right to know, right?” The Descendants all looked back; shocked that Hope had joined the confrontation. “I mean, you’re about to drag her out into danger just to spite Chaos here without even telling her that she’s in danger?”

“May be in danger.” Glory corrected.

“Yeah, ‘may be’, “Chaos mocked her tone. “But sure, let her decide. She’s the one who’s at risk, after all, not you.”

“It’s settled then. I’ll get her.” Charity announced.

“It is not—“Glory snarled, reaching out to stop Charity.

She didn’t need to, as Charity had no intentions of moving. Instead, she simply screamed up the stairs at the top of her lungs. “Hey Cryptid! Get your fuzzy butt down here!”

Clapping her hands over her ears to muffle the din, Glory ground her teeth. “You don’t need to do that!” she admonished. “We have intercoms. And I really wish you wouldn’t call her that.”

“Why? It’s her Academy handle.” Charity shrugged.

“It’s immature and tacky.” Glory said venomously. “We’re Duvalls; we don’t need to hide our names behind childish nicknames.”

There was a beat and following it, Charity gave the Descendants an apologetic nod. “Present company excluded of course.”

“Are we ready to go?” A childish voice chirped. Joy Duvall appeared at the top of the stairs. She was, in many ways, a normal, healthy, fourteen year old girl. In other ways, she was a fourteen year old girl with a fine, tan pelt, bat-like ears, a leonine tail, elongated feet that seemed a mishmash of some sort of dinosaur’s claws and a cat’s paws, overly large eyes, and a second pair of arms, which supported a wing-like membranous structure instead of normal fingers. The sight was made even stranger by the pseudo period garb of homespun breeches and a burlap tunic (adjusted to fit someone with her unique physiology).

Without looking to see who it was at the door, she leapt off the top stair and let her wings catch air enough to glide directly into Charity, who, being used to such antics, didn’t even flinch as her sister crashed into her for a hug. “Thank you so much, Charity. And I promise not to be annoying in front of your friends. This is going to be so…” Her rapid fire thanks slowed to a halt as she pealed herself off Charity and saw who was really at the door. For a few seconds, there was no sound coming from her mouth, which formed a surprised ‘O’.

Finally, her brain managed to send something to her mouth that wasn’t gibberish. “Th-th-these are…” She looked to Glory for confirmation. “Are they real? I mean the real thing?”

“Unfortunately.” Glory sneered.

“Oh my god, this is way beyond!” Joy squealed. “You guys got the Descendants to come to my birthday?”

“Uh…” Chaos started.

“This is… wow.” Joy gasped. “It’s really you?” She slowly inched toward Zero. “Zero? Oh my god, you’re like my favorite on the team.” She quickly looked around. “But you’re all great. Huh, where are Darkness and Codex? Do you guys know Infinity?” She looked back to Zero before any of her questions could be asked. “Hey, would you mind doing the Icebreaker for me? I’m sure there’s stuff around here Glory wouldn’t mind us breaking…” She gave Glory a pleading look. “Please? It’s in the name of science!”

“Icebreaker?” Zero asked, confused.

“Joy!” Glory had to grab onto her youngest sister’s shoulders to calm her down. “Joy. They’re not here for your birthday, sweetheart.”

Joy’s eyes went liquid. “They’re not? Then why are they here?”

Alloy took the initiative. He’d had experience breaking bizarre news to his own sister. “We’re here to protect you, Joy. There are some really bad guys out there. The same ones that got your school shut down. And they want to use you for their general badness.” He held up a finger in an assuring gesture. “But we’re not going to let that happen. After all—we’re prelates.”

“But.” Glory butted in, spinning Joy around to face her. “If you let them protect you, they won’t let you go to the Ren Faire with Charity.”

Joy looked back at Alloy with a look he knew all too well; the pout that all little girls know that universally destroys the resolve of any fathers or older brothers worth their salt. Even through long exposure, he had no resistance built up. Isp and Osp, who had been quietly watching events unfold, hid behind his back.

“The thing is, Joy.” Chaos stepped in. Being the youngest of two boys, he’d never had any experience with the look, but knew enough not to stare directly into those liquid eyes. “We need to stay close to protect you. The bad guys are plenty sneaky.”

Joy mercifully cut off her pout to mull that over. She’d heard the news and her sisters and father talking about what had gone on at the Academy and truthfully, it scared her that she could have been kidnapped right out of her dorm room and disappeared without a trace.

But she’d had her heart set on getting to hang out with her favorite sister and her friends. She didn’t know anything about Ren Faires except the bad ‘olde English’, but the outfits were fun and the real point was spending time with Charity, who wasn’t around as often as she used to be. But somewhere in her thoughts, she saw a logical solution where all the adults hadn’t.

“Why can’t you come with us?” she asked. Everyone looked at everyone else, bewildered. “Come on, it’ll be twice as fun that way.” She looked to Charity for back up. “Come on, Char, how cool would it be for Reeny and Les and everyone to show up and you’ve got the Descendants with you?”

“That would be pretty cool.” Charity pondered.

“And invite too much trouble, Joy. I’m sorry; we can’t just go there in our costumes. We’d attract too much attention.”

“But everyone will be in costume anyway.” Joy whined.

Glory smirked in her victory. “Sure, the one in the armor could pass if he didn’t have those… tendrils… and maybe the girl in the mask and cape, but the rest of them certainly won’t fit in.”

“You’d think that wouldn’t you?” Facsimile asked, still half in thought. “Hey, Charity, did you make that costume?”

“Yeah,” Charity nodded. “And the one Glory says she won’t wear.”

Facsimile nodded slowly and stepped back to look at Chaos and Hope. “Really, if Chaos keeps his cape closed like a cloak, he’d just need a mask to replace his visor and gloves for his gauntlets.”

“I don’t like where this is going…” Hope started.

“And we can make a few quick alterations of your stick in the mud sister’s outfit for Hope.” Facsimile said. As she did, she shifted away her wings and made her skin a rosy hue, while her hair went straw blonde. The ‘body suit’ that covered Facsimile became a dress and corset like Charity’s only in white and black instead of grey. Grinning, Facsimile rubbed her hands together and regarded Hope. “Time to get creatively anachronistic.”

Mike Samuels looked down the hill from the staff parking lot, taking in the fairgrounds spread out below him. He’d been doing this for twenty years, traveling to exhibition to exhibition to share his life’s passion with others. He wasn’t especially interested in the other activities that went on at Faires; he wasn’t one to try and reenact history or court life, or take part in the kitsch, touristy activities. For him, it wasn’t about romance, but about keeping an ancient art form alive.

Stretching to work out the kinks from his long drive, he trudged around to the back of his van to get his equipment.

Parking lot gravel crunched nearby. “Excuse me.”

Mike looked back to see a man in his late twenties standing there. He thought it a little strange that he hadn’t seen him earlier, but banished the thought instantly. “Yes?” Mike asked. He didn’t recognize the other man from any of the staff meetings and thought he would remember those striking Mediterranean features.

“Mike Samuels, right? The weapon master?”

“That would be me.” He nodded. “What can I do for you?”

“Not much.” The other man nodded absently, sidling over to Mike as he pulled out his case. “I’ve seen a few of your demonstrations. You’re a remarkable swordsman. I saw you over here and, well, I just wanted to shake you hand.”

There were the occasional sword play fanboys that would harass Mike and beg him to give them lessons, or impromptu demonstrations, but this man didn’t seem to be one of them. It was both heartening and flattering to think that someone finally appreciated his work that wasn’t wholly unprofessional in expressing it.

Setting his case down carefully, Mike extended his hand. The stranger’s grip was firm, and he thought he felt a shock of mild static.

“Well, I won’t bother you anymore.” The stranger said with a polite wave. “I can’t wait to see your skills in action today.”

“Thank you.” Mike said, nodding happily. The day had started well; now if only everyone who came to watch his demonstration was so polite and appreciative.

“That was it? I expected something more… well more, Colt.” A voice said over the stranger’s shoulder once he was out of earshot of Mike Samuels.

Josiah Colt, also known as the ex-Enforcer, Avatar shrugged. “Not everyone’s power is flashy, White Shadow. Yours, for example. We can’t all be as vulgar as Impact, not can we?”

“As long as it works, I’m not especially picky, to be honest.”

“It will work.” Colt assured his unseen accomplice. “At any point in the next three hours I need him; Weapon Master Samuels’s skills will be at my beck and call.” He smirked. “Now, let’s go have a word with the knights.”

-- • --

“This is definitely not what I expected to be doing when I woke up today.” Charity said, fussing with the dress Hope was wearing. It was much to large for her and with her friends arriving any minute, there was really no time to properly adjust it, so she’d improvised with pins and ties. It didn’t help that the veil Hope had insisted on wearing to protect her identity didn’t go with the rest of the outfit at all.

“Are you kidding?” Joy asked from her perch on Charity’s bed. “It makes it ten times cooler.” Her tone and the look in her eyes were things of unbridled excitement and awe. “It’s like being prelates ourselves or something.”

Charity paused, giving the young innocent a long, nervous look. “Yeah… or something.”

Facsimile chuckled as she finished with Zero. Aside from her own disguise, Zero’s was the easiest. Simply turning her cloak inside out made a green, velvet cloak into a white, silky one. White cake makeup did the rest, obviating the need to wear her mask. “I had a feeling this would be more difficult than just showing up and hanging out on the beach. It always is.” She smiled devilishly. “But check it out:” She raised her hands and casually shifted her waist a thin as possible within her simulated corset.

Every female in the room cringed in sympathy pain save Joy, who looked on in amazement.

Facsimile laughed at the others’ discomfort.

“That’s… really…” Zero shivered involuntarily. “Please don’t do that anymore.”

Facsimile pouted at her. “Fine.” She turned to Joy and Charity. “Anyway, remember: if we’re going to be any good at protecting you, we need to blend in. You can’t let your friends know who we are until this is over.”

Zero nodded. “If they ask who we are, we’re your cousins who dropped in for Joy’s birthday.”

“That’s right.” Facsimile continued, pointing to Zero, Hope and herself in turn, “Constance, Hope and Patience.” She could almost feel the eye roll she got from Hope form that. “What? I saw a pattern and you fit the pattern.”

“You can’t be Patience, actually” Charity said, “That’s our older sister’s name. She’s eighteen.”

Facsimile’s eyebrow twitched. “How many of you are there?”

“Seven.” Joy said helpfully. “Me – I’m the youngest – Charity, Prudence, Faith, Serenity and Chastity; they’re twins; and Glory.”

“Dad thinks names have power.” Charity explained, shaking her head.

“Suddenly, I understand why Glory is the way she is.” Facsimile rubbed a temple. “And feel really sorry for Chastity.” She furrowed her brow and thought for a second. “Okay, how about this: Zero is Constance, Hope (because she has no sense of humor) is Charisma, and I’ll be… huh, no way will I be Prudence or Temperance – how about Grace? We’re not stepping on any aunts with those, are we?”

Charity laughed. “No, that works out.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about splitting up.” Alloy said as he and Chaos made their way across the expansive parking area to the fairgrounds. He had refashioned his armor to resemble a more stereotypical example of knightly armor and instructed Isp and Osp to keep themselves hidden beneath his pauldrons. “You never split up. The second you do, the killer picks you off one by one.”

Chaos had traded his visor for a Zorro style mask and hat as well as a simple sparring saber made by Alloy from the Duvall’s recycling. “You need to watch more than bad horror and action movies.” He laughed at the younger man. “Ever see a heist movie or a con artist flick? They split up all the time and it’s for the best. War movies; fanning out saves lives and wins battles. Otherwise the grenade would be the best weapon ever.”

“I watch other things.” Alloy protested half heartedly.

“Expand your horizons.” Chaos said, illustrating with an expansive gesture. “And have a little faith in me, okay? I’m not Laurel or Alexis—“

“Codex or Darkness.” Alloy corrected, observing their general rule of never using real names while in costume despite being nowhere near where they could be overheard.

“Right. I know I’m not them, but I’m not stupid either. We couldn’t alert Charity’s friends to what was going on, and we all certainly couldn’t have tagged along in the car with them. But the road’s the best place for Tome to act; the Faire will be crawling with witnesses. This way, we’ve got Facsimile, Zero and Hope right there if they try something on the road.”

Alloy shrugged. “It still feels wrong to drive out here ahead while they could be in danger.”

Chaos laughed again; a good natured, encouraging laugh, and patted the younger man’s armored shoulder. “I know you’re the resident knight in shining armor—now more than ever—but ‘they’ are a basically immortal shapeshifter, a healer, and someone who can freeze air. They’re not your average damsels in distress.”

“I wasn’t thinking of it like that.” Alloy replied, feeling a bit guilty that Chaos had touched on part of the problem, however small a part it was, “But it seems a little… off… to let part of the team basically act as bait while we go get fruit ice and a mutton joint, isn’t it?”

“Fine.” Chaos scoffed, “Then I won’t buy them for you.”

Alloy held out a mailed hand. “Now wait, I didn’t say I wouldn’t take them if they were offered.”

“All around nice guys, those knights.” Avatar said to the ether. He was seated at one of the long tables set up in the center of the food vending area, daintily nibbling a piece of roast chicken. “I hope their fighting ability isn’t all just choreography though.”

A spit holding various peppers, potatoes and other garden vegetables vanished from his plate, and moments later there was a crunching sound. The spit reappeared minus a pepper. “With luck, we won’t need to find out.” White Shadow said.

“You were never an Enforcer.” Avatar frowned. “If you were, you’d have learned never to trust to luck what good planning can guarantee. The transfer station was compromised and that means someone knows about this. Best case, it’s the army and they send uniforms to scare us off. We’ll have to do this tomorrow at her house.”

“Worst case?”

“Prelates. Probably the Descendants.”

“I’ve heard all the other agents are just pissing themselves over these guys after the whole Redeemer’s fiasco.” White Shadow snickered. “What’s your take?”

“I’ve watched the videos same as everyone else. I like to chalk the mystique up to bad management though. You heard about that TV psychiatrist guy they bought in for that? The rumor is that he botched it on purpose.” Avatar smirked as the kabob disappeared again. “Not that I’d mind if they were a decent challenge. I’ve never fought a psionic that fancied themselves a hero and I need a feather in my cap after that Florida business with Impact.”

“Speaking of Gina, I was kind of hoping I’d be paired with her instead of Dervish for this job. She’s a pretty hot little number.”

“All that glitters is not gold, my friend.” Avatar offered. “The woman is an uncultured, low, shrew and we should both be pitying Dervish right about now.” He regarded the empty space beside him. “And you know that they’re never going to partner you with a woman again. Not after the whole—ahem, misunderstanding—with Shine. Honestly, Shadow, I can understand the temptations inherent to your powers, but Shine? She’s a protomorph and not the Sonja Remington kind either.”

“Simply curiosity.” White Shadow said with a tone that indicated he had probably shrugged while speaking. “You can’t tell me you never wondered about those white scales…” There was a pause and a click. “Lunch time’s over, Josiah. Dervish just saw our package come through the main entrance.”

“So, Grace, have you ever been to one of these?” Charity’s friend Kyle had driven with them to the Faire along with Maureen, her sister Tanya and their friend Cindy and had done everything in his power to maneuver himself closer to Charity’s ‘cousin’ Grace.

“Once.” Facsimile shrugged, torn between enjoying the attention and keeping Joy nearby. “But I was a kid and didn’t enjoy it. The horses scared the hell out of me.” That part was true as she couldn’t see any possible way that tidbit could be directly linked to Cynthia McAllister.

Kyle laughed harder than anyone normally would have and adjusted the strings that closed his shirt nervously. “So, are you still afraid of horses?”

“Why would anyone be afraid of horses?” asked Zero as she wandered into hearing range after making sure Hope was keeping close to Joy. “They’re so pretty and strong.” Her eyes got wide. “Hey, we could get a horse.”

“No we can’t.” Facsimile countered. She wasn’t still afraid of them per se, but she didn’t want to have one wandering the Freeland House estate either. She found pretty much all large land mammals unpleasant in person.

Clearly, that sentiment didn’t translate into her response, because Kyle laughed again. “I guess that’s a ‘yes’ on still being afraid of them.”

“No it isn’t.” Facsimile growled. “We just can’t afford one is all.”

“Really?” Kyle asked. “I thought all of Charity’s family was loaded.”

“No, that’s their father’s side. Our mother and their mother were sisters.”

“Ah.” He accepted that easily. “Which one?”

Facsimile blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Which of their moms is your aunt?”

Left to her own devices, Facsimile probably would have proceeded to invent an entire family tree to cover for that bit of missed information. Luckily, she didn’t have to as Charity abandoned telling Joy about the falconer demonstration to rush to come to her rescue.

“Kyle!” She said with an edge of annoyance. “You know we don’t like to talk about that!”

It was Kyle’s turn to be confused. The maternity of the Duvall sisters had never been taboo before. “What? When did…”

“Jesus, Kyle, what’s wrong with you?” Charity continued. “It’s Joy’s birthday and you have to go and drag that out? I never would have expected that of you!”

Heaped with blame and sinking fast, Kyle took the only way out he knew. “I’m sorry?” he guessed at the right response. “I guess I forgot and… I was just kind of curious, because I didn’t even know you had a cousin.“He started to run out of steam and Charity was still glaring at him. “Uh… I’m… I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want anything? It’s my treat.”

“That would be a good start.” Charity glowered at him. He was gone before the words had even left her mouth.

“That was beautiful.” Facsimile said, watching him slink away. “You have to teach me that.”

Charity grinned, but otherwise ignored the comment. “Just for reference,” she said only loud enough for Facsimile to hear, “Except for the twins, we’re all only half-sisters. Different mothers, see?”

“Oh.”

“Charity,” Joy interrupted, bounding between them, the schedule for the day’s events clutched in her fuzzy hand. “There’s a booth here where a computer does your portrait like they did for the kings and queens in the old days! Can we go?”

Charity smiled and tousled her sister’s hair. “You’re the birthday girl.”

Joy practically beamed. “Great! Let’s get one done together!”

“Sounds fun.” Charity said, “You want to find Glory so we can have kind of a family portrait?”

A quiver of disappointment ran over Joy’s face and she shifted her glance to the ground. “I kind of just wanted to do one of you and—“Her words we suddenly cut off in a mumbled gurgle and she vanished entirely from sight.

Before anyone could react, Joy faded abruptly back into view. So did a man; tall and thin with sun reddened skin, wearing a white jumpsuit with a light grey backpack over his shoulders. He had an arm around the girl’s waist and another over his mouth. At least, it had been over her mouth; it was currently in her mouth, being introduced to the pointed canines and redundant, razor sharp teeth she’d gained from being a protomorph.

A string of obscenities escaped the man in a thick, Russian accent as he fell backward, with Joy, trying to rescue his poor hand from the shredding maw of the panicky girl.

Facsimile was on him before he managed to pull his hand away from Joy’s gnashing teeth; coming down hard on him with her arm across his wind pipe. “Let her go.” She demanded, snarling into the man’s face.

The kick came from nowhere. At first, Facsimile didn’t even know it was a kick because even with her understanding of super powered individuals, kicks should not, as a general rule, lift one up and over the heads of the people around you.

She came down hard and had trouble getting to her feet thanks to her shifted clothing.

Gina Sheldon, known in the Enforcer Corps as Impact, stood over White Shadow and Joy. Her straw blonde hair was pinned up beneath a floppy, velvet hat and she was dressed in the manner of peasantry, but that didn’t make her look any less dangerous. She fixed Charity with a glare as she surged forward to claim her sister. “Unless you want the broken ribs I almost certainly just gave that chick, honey, I don’t think you want to come any closer. Your little sister’s coming with us.”

“Not if we have anything to say about it.” Zero said, stepping up beside Charity.

“And who are you to say anything?” Impact scoffed.

Ice formed into twin shields from thin air over Zero’s arms. “The Descendants.” She said, her voice taking a serious edge. She nodded to Facsimile as the other girl shifted into her more combat ready golden, winged form and then to Hope who had struck a half hearted martial arts pose. “So give up now, because you’re out numbered.”

Impact’s smile only became more predatory. “You would think so...” In the silence touched off by the crowd’s confusion as to whether or not this was a show, the sound of swords being drawn could be heard. “But you would be wrong.”

-- • --

It is inevitable that when dramatic events spill over into certain venues; theaters, theme parks, and yes, renaissance faires, many people will initially believe that whatever is transpiring is part of the show. Whether this is actual confusion or simple delusion varies from person to person, as does the threshold which must be reached before one decides that what one is seeing is real.

For many, Joy’s screams and the sight of blood from White Shadow’s bitten hand were enough. For others, the sudden appearance of Facsimile and presumably Hope and Zero was the tip off. But all in the area reached perfect clarity as the knights, mingling with the crowd to spread awareness of the upcoming jousts and warfare demonstrations, suddenly turned as one, drew steel and violently shoved visitors aside to form a wide ring around the Duvall sisters, their friends and their protectors.

Facsimile didn’t let any of it surprise her. Everything seemed to be formulated to surprise her at this point, so what was one more twist? She let a barb of bone grow from each of her knuckles and shot Impact a smug grin. “You guys go all out on the disguises, don’t you? Seriously, mooks in armor at a ren faire, that’s a good one.” She ran her gaze around at the knights and brandished her new claws. “Bring it boys.”

Impact smiled right back at her. “You should know before you start hurting them, hon.” She said coldly, “These aren’t ‘mooks’ they’re poor, innocent bystanders. Innocent bystanders who are going to hurt you or make you hurt them very badly if you don’t give up the girl.”

The smile faded from Facsimile’s lips. This was a twist she didn’t like. The bone barbs were reabsorbed into her knuckles.

“Good girl.” Impact mocked.

“That’s all you’re going to do?!” Charity demanded. She was closer than anyone to Joy, who had wriggled out of White Shadow’s grasp, but was frozen in fear by Impact. “What about protecting us?”

“What can she do?” Impact answered for Facsimile. “She’s surrounded on all sides. The best she can do—“

“Is 'go up'.” Facsimile threw herself forward. Impact was caught off guard and before she even understood what was happening, Facsimile was laboring into the air, arms wrapped around Joy. “Zero! Hope! Protect Charity and her friends!”

Protectyourself!” Something heavy, yet yielding slammed into Facsimile’s back, sending her wobbling sideways with Joy screaming.

The golden prelate span to see a grey blur speeding toward her. It was all she could do to turn so her shoulder took the hit instead of Joy. As she frantically beat her wings to stay airborne, the blur slowed, defining itself first into a spinning mass of arms and legs and then into a short, rotund man dressed in a grey and white costume that looked to be made of rubber.

“Pleased to meet you.” He said in a clipped, sped up voice which slowed as he stopped spinning. “I’m Dervish.”

Below, White Shadow got to his feet and stood beside Impact, cradling his bleeding hand. “Good job giving her the idea.” He spat.

Impact rolled her eyes “We all knew we might run into fliers. That’s why Chubbsy is here. And if he’s not enough.” She made a hand gesture to signal Avatar from his hiding place. “But she can’t make everyone fly and we don’t need any of the others alive, now do we?” Perfectly on cue, the knights closed ranks and stepped forward.

“Can you fly with those wings?” Facsimile asked Joy. For the moment, Dervish seemed content just to hem them in, bobbing in a lazy circle around them like an orbiting balloon.

Through choked sobs, Joy shook her head. “I-I can glide.” She hyperventilated and swallowed hard.

Great, Facsimile thought sarcastically, she can glide right down into Tome’s arms. She didn’t vocalize it though. Instead she said, “Then hold on!” Performing a wing over, she tucked her wings and dived, hoping to gain speed with the maneuver.

Dervish smirked, starting to spin and speed up again. “Do you really thinkyou cangetaway?” A grey blur once more, he plunged after the two psionic women, slamming into them sideways half a dozen times in a matter of seconds and forcing them toward the ground.

Zero and Hope moved to opposite sides of Charity and her friends. “Can’t you make them happy?” Zero called over to Hope.

With a hand to her temple, Hope was trying desperately to remember the focusing techniques they’d tried to teach her at the Academy. Usually, she had no trouble making her power work, but the knights weren’t responding at all. As much as she was loathe to admit it even to herself, she regretted rejecting Alexis’s offer to put together power creativity sessions for her. She didn’t even want the power, so why would she want to use it in more ways?

“It’s not working.” She finally admitted.

“Mind control versus mind control.” Impact laughed. “And it looks like your kung fu isn’t strong enough.”

“Stop screwing with them and let’s get on with this.” White Shadow snapped. Seconds later, he faded from sight.

Impact grimaced at this and signaled Avatar to attack. The knights charged in eerie silence, with no battle cry, only the sounds of metal plates sliding over one another. At the same time, Impact shifted into a fighting stance and aimed herself at the bigger threat: Zero.

Seeing the coming conflict, Charity, Maureen and Tanya crowed together, back to back. “Your cousins are the Descendants?!” Maureen asked over her shoulder.

“Not exactly.” Charity said, trying to think of anything that would get her friends out of danger and save her sister.

“We’re here to protect Joy.” The unarmed Hope said, watching the knights nearest her side of the battle close on her.

The first reached her and it was all she could do to stay in a fighting stance as his sword raised—and promptly warped around his arms, pinning them over his head. An instant later, his armor ran like warm wax, spraying out in thick strands to ensnare the pair nearest to him.

Inside his helmet, Alloy winced in sympathy at the dismayed face of the knight he’d just disarmed and dis-armored. “Sorry about that!” He called. “I’ll make you a new one... you know, after you’re back to yourself.”

Zero smiled to herself as she watched the spectacle Alloy’s arrival had created. She didn’t get much of a chance to ruminate on her friend’s promise of restitution before Impact struck.

She moved in time to duck the first punch. The air along her cheek gusted as Impact’s psionic power channeled the kinetic energy in her fist outward. Seeing the next attack coming, she blocked Impact’s low kick with one of her ice shields. The force of the blow reverberated up her arm. Ice cracked and the cool hail it released did nothing to soothe her aching appendage.

Crying out in pain, Zero danced backward, avoiding another punch-kick combination. Impact sneered and went into a roundhouse, which Zero only managed to duck by falling into a crouch. Frost rimed the grass beneath Impact’s foot as she came down into a stance, only to slip and fall on her back.

Above, Facsimile twisted and turned like a cat, desperately trying to protect both Joy in front of her and her wings behind her. Dervish darted in and out, slamming into her with the force of a medicine ball launched from a catapult. The trio waltzed drunkenly over the now broken ring of knights.

Laughing gleefully, Dervish span down in front of Facsimile. “Hadenough? Giveup the girl and this all ends. Otherwise, I’m going to have to start,” He reached into hidden pockets in his costume and slipped on a pair of brass knuckles. “getting rough.”

He never saw it coming. The sudden downdraft should have warned him. The growing spot of shade in a cloudless sky should have made him look up. Dervish missed all the cues.

So Facsimile and Joy were treated to a look of utter horror and surprise on his face when Chaos landed feet first on his pudgy shoulders. Not as buoyant as previously indicated, Dervish rocketed into the ground, where, by some miracle of his costume, he bounced like a rubber ball, shooting straight back up and only missing Chaos by virtue of some swift dodging.

“Oh, fisticuffs.” Chaos said, reaching behind his back to unstrap the gauntlets he’d secreted there so as not to compromise his costume. “I’m game, you pudgy little speedster.”

“Not now.” Facsimile said, practically shoving the completely shocked Joy into his arms. “I’ve got this guy.” She unsheathed five wicked claws, “That woman you told us about from Quinn Bluffs is down there with Zero and Hope.”

Chaos nodded and started to descend with Joy just as Dervish fell upon them again.

“Not this time, tubby.” Facsimile threw herself snarling into the flying speedster’s path. He slammed into her and as per his tactic, bounced away. Only this time, Facsimile came with him with her claws caught in his rubber suit. Suddenly spinning off balance, the Tome agent and the golden prelate whirled erratically off over the faire.

Two knights rushed Alloy from either side, swords raised in defiance of the logic that should have told them (or whoever was controlling them) that metal weapons would be of no use to them against their opponent.

There was a rending noise and twin coils of dark metal tore their way free of Alloy’s pauldrons. Isp went low, coiling a knight’s legs and lifting him five feet in the air to dangle upside down. Osp went high and formed its leading edge into an impossibly thin blade as the other knight took a swung for Alloy’s chest.

The sword was severed cleanly an inch above the hilt. It flew in a graceful arc to bury itself neatly in the papier-mâché of a Black Knight model, severing an arm. The knight, with no sword to catch in his target, stumbled past Alloy, turning a slow circle, which Osp made into several rapid circles by wrapping his waist and spinning him. Dizzy, the knight crumbled into a heap. At the same moment, the other knights broke off their own attacks, exclaiming in horror at what they had been forced to attempt.

Elsewhere, situated in a cozy spot where he could watch the action and control his human puppets, Avatar blanched, trying mightily not to vomit from the violent spinning he’s just received second hand.

“Alloy!” Chaos said, landing next to the armored prelate and presenting Joy, who, overloaded from excitement and fear was having trouble keeping her feet. “You and the boys guard her. I’m going to help Zero out with Impact.”

“You got it, boss.” Alloy saluted, putting out an arm to steady Joy. “I’ve got you.” He said in his older brother voice. Joy swayed on her feet despite his support. “Stay with me, okay? We’re going to get you back with your sister and her friends and everything will be okay.” When she still barely responded, Alloy frowned inside his helm. “It’s okay. Just…” he noted the ring she’d begged Charity to buy for her earlier. It was a lump of very shiny lead shaped into the dragon eating its tail and painted silver. “Joy, I can protect you. I’m really, really powerful, okay? Check this out; I can turn lead into gold.”

He put a hand over her ring and it flared white, as did Alloy’s eyes. Concentrating with all his might to force the ring to keep its shape during the transmutation, Alloy felt his own armor warping from the pressures his powers imposed. But outwardly, to Joy, it seemed easy. She gaped at the golden ring and then at Alloy. She didn’t have to say anything; he’d proven himself to her. “Now let’s get you back to your sister.” He said.

Zero, meanwhile, was losing her battle with Impact. The other woman was measurably slower than she was, but more experienced and more vicious by far. Even though she managed to dodge most of Impacts attacks, those that she was forced to block with ice shields hurt as badly as a normally strong person had hit her directly. And the few hits she managed to get in on the Tome agent hurt her more than they did Impact. None of her tricks were working, she was getting tired, and the margin by which Impact was missing was dwindling.

Impact noticed it too, predatory eyes laughing as she closed on her quarry. “You could have just given up the little freak.” She snarled angrily. “You could have gotten out of this without broken bones. But no, you had to go and make me work for it.” She spat out a lock of sweaty blonde hair that had found its way into her mouth. “And when I have to work, I try to enjoy the hell out of it.”

“You make a habit of threatening people younger than you, don’t you?” A gust of wind slammed into her, almost putting her off balance. She saw Chaos out of the corner of her eye, but kept her attention on Zero. A fusillade of sharp bursts of wind hit her along her side until she finally gave him her attention. “Remember me, Impact? Quinn Bluffs? You threatened to kill a twelve year old there. Are you sure you’re up to threatening teenagers now?”

Impact dropped into a lower fighting stance, denying Chaos more surface area to effect with his powers. “Yeah, I remember you. I owe you and you girlfriend some pain!” She lunged at him, only to collide with a wall of ice that suddenly sprang up in front of her. Hail flew in all directions as her powers protected her as best it could, but not enough to stop her from being stunned.

“Nice shot, Zero.” Chaos smirked and moved to deliver the knock out blow. Something jabbed into the back of his knee and sent him to the ground. He rolled, hoping to avoid a second blow that didn’t come. Instead he saw Mike Samuels standing over him in a lamé, wielding a wooden truncheon.

“We’ve met before too.” Mike said stiltedly, “Though we’re not speaking face to face right now, as it were.”

Isp and Osp stretched out in twin protective arcs around The Duvall sisters and their friends as Alloy kept watch over them. Hope stood nearby, keeping them calm though sheer force of will.

Suddenly, the twangy and familiar ‘tastes’ of titanium, aluminum and iron filed his senses. He’d sensed iron and some aluminum all along, from vendor’s stalls, armor, horse shoes and a million other sources. But none of those were in such great quantity or moving with such great speed through the air above him.

“Incoming!” He shouted to Chaos, only to see his teammate and mentor rolling to avoid another swing from Mike Samuels’s staff. He turned his senses upward again. Why couldn’t he see it? His memory traveled back to the previous November when Tome had airlifted inugami to an elevated train platform to attack Facsimile and Occult. The carrier had been able to fade into and out of visibility.

Hissing and expletive, he turned to Hope. “Hope, there’s a carrier coming.” He said, hoping she would have some input.

“Then use your powers and knock it down!” She snapped, visibly shaking in her efforts to keep Charity and her friends’ emotions in check.

“I can’t; I’d crush everyone here!” Alloy said, growing tense. “We need to move Joy out of here now. We have to get her back to the car and make a break for it.” He tried to raise Facsimile on his com only to find that he’d damaged the circuits while transmuting Joy’s ring. No good deed unpunished; that would almost certainly be Facsimile’s response to that. “Screw it.” He muttered, “I’ll take her. Joy, come—“He looked up and noticed a conspicuous lack of fourteen year old protomorphs among the group left in his care.

-- • --

A gold and grey whirlwind of arms, legs and wings streaked overhead, much to the befuddlement of faire goers who had yet to learn of the commotion taking place at the other end of the fairgrounds.

“Ican’tsee!Ican’tsee!getoffme!” Dervish screamed desperately at Facsimile as they barreled through a vendor kiosk, scattering paintings by a local artist.

“How about stopping, dumbass?” Facsimile shouted back. If he didn’t she’d already made up her mind to simply keep him blind until he knocked himself out slamming through things. The spinning speedster responded by redoubling his spinning.

Instinct made Facsimile extend her talons more and grip the rubbery material of Dervish’s costume more tightly. They punched through, causing warm liquid to flow out around her fingers. Alarm filled her and she almost let go. Had she just run punctured a vein with her claws? That was a lot of blood he was losing. Alarm turned to a cold chill of fear. Was he going to bleed out from it? Had she just killed him in a panic?

When she finally worked up the nerve to look at her hands, what painted her hands and forearms wasn’t the red of lifeblood, but thick, goopy, orange liquid. It gushed from the rents her claws had torn, driven out by the centripetal force of Dervish’s spinning. Her fear became relief, and then amusement; that was how he managed not to be hurt despite smashing into her hard enough to have broken a normal person’s bones. Armed with that knowledge, she snapped her wings out, forcing Dervish’s erratic path into a more direct one: toward the ground.

In the mock town square, a family of four; at the faire on a lark as part of a road trip to Florida, was taking turns having their picture taken with their head and arms in the stocks. The father, after much chiding from his wife and begging from his children, was just consenting to having the heavy wooden device closed over him when something caught his eye. “What kind of balloon is that?” He wondered aloud.

His wife didn’t look up, but his six year old daughter did. “Mommy! Mommy!” the tike asked, eyes wide, “Is that a dragon?”

Her mother looked up and screamed, throwing herself and the kids to the ground as the ‘dragon’ fell from the sky, buzzing them by a few feet and landed with an uncharacteristic sloshing sound before the stocks.

One half of the ‘dragon’ extricated itself from the heap and unfurled her golden wings, much to the delight of the children. Facsimile smiled at them as she lifted the dazed Dervish up by the scruff off his ruined and leaking costume. He was still rotund underneath all the padding, but no longer was he reminiscent of a volleyball.

“Mind if I use these stocks, sir?” Facsimile asked, unlatching and lifting the top arm of the stocks with one arm.

“N-not at all.” The father said, moving away as quickly as possible.

“Thanks.” Facsimile said sweetly as she clapped Dervish into the makeshift prison. “Someone will be around to collect him soon.” She threw herself into the air and hovered for a second. “Uh… enjoy the rest of your day though!” she called as an afterthought before heading back to the battle.

Across the fairgrounds, Alloy was not enjoying his day. “Joy, where’s Joy?” He asked dumbly of Charity and her friends.

Dull eyed, Charity shrugged. “She just kind of faded away.” She said.

“I think I overdid the ‘happy’” Hope said sourly, even as she stopped broadcasting her power. “But she must mean that the invisible guy got her.”

Alloy bit his lip, a gesture the others couldn’t see thanks to his helmet. “Damn it.” He said, feeling defeated. Then something occurred to him. “Hope, go help Chaos and Zero.” He said, turning his gaze upward.

Hope looked over to their allies. Zero was running interference against Mike, blocking his masterful attacks with her ice shields while Chaos was forced to do the same against Impact by way of compressed air bursts. “Yeah, right. I can’t use my powers on the controlled guy and I can’t stand up to that crazy woman she’s got some sort of damage shield or something.”

“Then why not use your powers on the crazy shielded chick?” Alloy asked offhandedly. He didn’t stop to acknowledge the dawning realization on her face. Instead, he addressed Isp, who was lolling off his shoulder, uncertain. “I know you can’t see it, but I can sense it. You just have to trust me on this, okay?” Isp gave what passed for a shrug while Osp looped itself once around Alloy’s waist before planting itself firmly in the ground.

Alloy focused on what his senses told him were there and where, logically, things he couldn’t sense should be. It was a long shot, but he didn’t have a choice if he was going to stop Tome from taking Joy. “Pull.” he ordered.

Osp flexed and threw Alloy upward with all its might, unanchoring itself at the very last moment. Airborne, Alloy pointed his fist at the invisibly underbelly of the Tome carrier, directing Isp it. The tentacle harpooned out, forming a lethally sharp barb on its leading edge. Just as Alloy had assured it, the hull panel was there to be pierced. Isp crashed through and flowered open its barb to set into the panel.

The impact itself had a welcome side effect in damaging the delicate stealth equipment that kept that section invisible. There was a flash of orange turning to dull red as light bending and broadcasting equipment went offline or had its power source cut off and suddenly, a five foot square of paneling became visible.

But Alloy’s targets remained hidden from sight, but not his metal sense. He kicked his legs and swung toward the spot he was focused on, holding his hand out toward the small circle of gold floating before him. “Joy!” He shouted, “Give me your hand!” The gold ring moved in his senses and a sudden pressure told him that Joy had succeeded in reaching for him.

The moment their hands made contact, the world warped in Alloy’s perception as if he was viewing it through a fisheye lens, curling and blurring out of focus at the edges. Joy appeared before his eyes, positioned on a hard, plastic platform, being reeled upward into the carrier’s cargo bay. White Shadow held her around the waist, mindful of her teeth and keeping her wings pinned tightly against him.

“Might as well give it up!” Alloy demanded, turning his gaze on White Shadow. “There’s nowhere for even you to hide now. Let her go.”

White Shadow ground his teeth, considering his options. A look of grim determination mixed with defeat settled on his face. “You know, you’re right.” He said. He freed one hand from his grip on Joy to touch the com on his ear. “Avatar?” Alloy couldn’t here the other side of the conversation, but the reply was clearly one the revealed further damage to the plan. “Exactly what I was thinking. Abort all.” He listened again. “Forget them. If they can’t get away on their own, they deserve Braddock Island.”

The villain flashed a smile at Alloy. “My colleague agrees.” He said in a disturbingly genial voice. “You win.” Then came the rope-a-dope. Hauling hard, he pulled Joy’s hand free of Alloy’s breaking the physical contact that made them visible to him and him invisible to everyone else in return. The very next moment, Joy appeared on the other side of where the platform had been; screaming as she was thrown out into open air. “Claim your prize!” White Shadow mocked.

Isp and Osp didn’t need to be told what to do. Saving the innocent came before taking down the bad guy. Flexing, Isp swung Alloy in Joy’s direction and let go of the carrier. Unfortunately, it miscalculated one very simple flaw: Joy didn’t obey gravity like any other random victim would. Instead, acting out of sheer panic and instinct, Joy opened her wings and snapped into a glide just as Alloy sailed under her on his way to the ground.

Alloy glanced up to make sure nothing else was about to appear to snatch Joy out of the sky. At the same time, his metal sense told him that the Tome carrier was moving away. Only when he was sure of Joy’s safety did he tend to his own. “Alright, boys, do your ring thing and brace for landing.” The tentacles obeyed, gracefully arcing themselves into twin wheels around Alloy in order to roll with the impact of the ten story fall.

“Or, you can catch a ride.” Facsimile announced her arrival by catching hold of Isp and Osp with little effort and almost no disruption in her flight pattern and pulling them and their own passenger into a steady glide next to Joy. “Good thing we came here!” She shouted to the young protomorph. “Those guys would have really messed up your house!”

Joy smiled back weakly, exhausted beyond humor and even fear.

Chaos and Zero moved back to back with Chaos keeping Impact at bay with his winds while Zero held the Avatar possessed weapon master off with expert blocking with her shields. It was a stalemate until Hope’s arrival turned the tables.

“I can deal with this.” Hope said to herself unconvincingly. “Just focus and concentrate everything on her.” She felt her power working and knew it was when Impact started laughing.

“That’s your power?” Impact guffawed, unable to control herself. “You’re a living upper? And you think that’s…” She wheezed, partially from the wind stealing her breath, and partly from her own laughter. “that’s going to stop me? You’re a dumb little heifer, you know that?” Suddenly she broke off from Chaos and used his winds to propel herself at Hope.

Zero saw her coming and danced past Samuels. As she did, she brought her ice shields to bear, hoping to knock Impact out of the air. Impact let her, putting one foot down to steady herself while bringing the other down in a perfectly executed axe kick. The blow shattered Zero’s left shield, dulling the blow enough to save her arm. But even slowed, Impact’s power enhanced attack was enough to separate her shoulder with a loud pop. Crying out from the pain, Zero crumpled to the ground.

Chaos roared and launched himself at her with all the force of a hurricane and was met with a brick wall of kinetic energy redirection. Impact sneered at him as she caught his arms and lifted them over his head.

“The boxing gloves, the tough talk; I bet you’re a real he-man, aren’t you?” She twisted his arms painfully so as not to let him concentrate and use his powers on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hope duck past her to get to Zero and maneuvered Chaos around so she could keep an eye on her. “Well, he-man. How’s it feel to meet a woman that’s stronger than you? And make no mistake, this is all nature.”

Hope knelt beside the shuttering form of Zero. “Hold still.” She said. “I can’t heal it until we pop it back in.” Zero shook her head urgently. “I know it’s going to hurt, Jun, but we have—“

“No.” Zero managed through the pain. “Im-im… stop her.”

“I can’t!” Hope snapped. “My powers are stupid and useless and…” She followed Zero’s gaze and knew exactly what the other girl would do if she wasn’t pinned down by pain. It was a long shot, considering Impact’s powers, it might not even work. But her powers weren’t working and Chaos didn’t seem to be winning the fight. She leapt. Her fingers closed over the hilt of the rapier still hanging from Chaos’s side.

With no idea how to use it, she swung wildly. The frenzied attack only grazed Impact, but it definitely got her attention. “What are you going to do with that, heifer?” She mocked, using what seemed to be her new favorite insult. “Are you more of a man than those other prelates?” She twisted Chaos’s arms again for emphasis. “Are you going to stab me? Kill me while I can’t dodge?”

Hope realized that she couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t do that. She, on the whole, wasn’t very empathetic, feeling she got no real empathy from others, but she wasn’t psychotic and didn’t want to kill someone. She glanced down. Pain on the other hand… Impact’s eyes went wide even before she felt it. She hadn’t actually expected to be stabbed by the young prelate. But the rapier punched through her thin boot, though her foot, through the sole of her boot and into the ground.

Shock and surprise distracted her more than pain and in that second, Chaos got free of her grasp and clapped his hands over her ears. There was pressure, and then she passed out, sprawling backward.

Avatar shook his head in shame. He’d really though Impact had it won for a moment there. At least until Alloy and Facsimile returned. It was a pity she was so arrogant and talkative. He was glad that all of his fighting was done by remote.

Heaving a long sigh, he pulled the wide brimmed hat he’d bought from a nearby vendor over his eyes and stood to leave. The ROCIC would be there soon and their theta wave detectors would ferret him out. Better to be miles away by that time.

Before he went, he watched Alloy, Facsimile and Joy land and considered them for a moment. Even at less than half strength, the Descendants had defeated Tome’s elite twice now. It would take something special next time. Something, he added to himself, which hopefully didn’t involve him.

It was mid afternoon in Nevada when St John Duvall’s secretary came into his office with a message from his oldest.

“Glory called, father.” The secretary, a tall, leggy woman with chin length black hair said. She was dressed in a white business suit with a modest skirt that only hinted at her shape. “She says she needs to talk to you directly. Someone tried to kidnap Joy today.” Her voice quavered, trying to remain professional despite her concern for her sister.

St. John tore his stony gaze away from his computer and looked to his daughter. “Did she say who it was, Serenity?” he asked, “Vandercroft’s men? Eckles?”

“Someone I’ve never heard of, father. The Descendants came to the beach house specifically to safeguard Joy. They said the kidnappers were part of a group called ‘Project Tome’.” She paused, recognizing a dangerous gleam in her father’s eye. “You know them, father?”

St John tore his gaze away from her. “In passing. Call you sister,” She knew he meant her twin sister, Chastity, because otherwise, he would have said a name. “Have her on a plane here within the hour. No one attacks one of the seven daughters of Duvall and gets away with it.”

Serenity nodded curtly and left the room. St John stared at his desk for a while. Tome still existed, even after all his searching came up empty. They still existed and they were trying to kidnap psionics. Could the rumors be true? He ruminated on the irony that one of his psionic daughters had ended up one of their targets. Was it an accident? Either way, now that he knew they were out there and a quarter century of work would finally bear fruit.

End Issue #27