Isp looped around the forearm of the bipedal ghost and hauled hard, bringing it into range for a furious uppercut from Alloy.

Pink hued flames danced across its frame, as the monster bellowed in rage. It caught the armored prelate up in one massive hand and hurled him and his bothersome tentacles away.

Meanwhile, Zero coated the ground beneath the leonine horror’s feet with ice while Occult assaulted it with flashing arrows of fire from the end of her staff. Thrown off balance, the monster toppled over, exposing its underbelly to attack.

“Alloy needs help!” Zero watched the behemoth knuckle toward her prone teammate.

“This one’s not finished, and there’s the fourth that hasn’t crossed over yet!” The corporeal ghost Occult was attacking used her distraction to catch her with a flailing foot and knock her down.

With difficulty, it managed to stand and reach out an oversized hand to grasp the fallen prelate. Zero would have none of it, and caused a wall of ice rimed with razor frost to grow between it and Occult.

Using her staff to lever herself up, Occult slammed the butt of the weapon against the ice wall. “Crystalline Reign.” The ice crystals grew and spread with sudden vigor and celerity, reaching and then encrusting the monster’s hand in a matter of seconds. Where the ice gripped it, the hand was engulfed in even more intense rose flames until it finally withered away.

Down the street, Alloy had gotten to his feet and deconstructed a manhole cover to form a sword. It might as well have been a backscratcher, as the brute, despite being in searing pain, knocked it aside with ease.

One elephantine foot came down to pin Isp while a knobby fist caught Osp. The other hand grabbed Alloy himself and brought his head toward the anteater-skull head, which scissored open to bite.

Seeing what was coming, Alloy psionically strengthened his helmet as the jaws closed on it. Like a dog worrying a rabbit, the thing shook him, trying to separate his head from his body.

Isp and Osp picked that moment to remember that their forms were essentially fluid and ooze their way out of their respective restraints only to lash out with bladed edges to draw a painful X in astral fire across the creature’s chest.

The twin attack worked, causing the monster to release Alloy’s body, but his head was still caught in its jaws. Alloy willed the metal to warp and twist until his head came free of the helmet lodged in his mouth. Too late did he realize that he was twelve feet and change above the ground.

The fall knocked him senseless.

Something had knocked out the power during a rather passionless lecture on Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs and the adjunct professor had declared class dismissed. Tink considered it a lucky break and an opportunity to get ahead in her homework for her Biomechanics class at the library.

At least, she did before the Armored Defender, the Modern Knight, Mayfield’s one and only Alloy had landed hard on Library Lane, just off the footpath she was on.

Her first reaction was to take out her phone to get a few pictures. But then she saw the reason he had fallen. A gorilla-like monstrosity, inexplicably on fire, was knuckling down the street after its prey.

Tink wisely took cover behind a hedgerow.

Alloy called up a sword as if from thin air, but he was quickly overcome by the bestial onslaught. His tentacles were disabled and he was lifted to the might jaws of the beast.

She’d read in the paper that Mary Northbrooke of the Mayfield Scribe was offering cash for pictures of prelates in action to run with her weekly column about them. But as tempting as two thousand dollars could be, the horror of the scene stayed Tink’s hand, even as she couldn’t look away.

But Alloy wasn’t beat yet. The tentacles, which she’d read theories about on PrelateWatch, slashed the thing across the chest, spreading the pinkish fire even more. Wrenching free of the slavering jaws, Alloy fell to the ground, his helm lost to the monster’s jaws.

The tentacles released a tortured sound of metal squealing on metal before stabbing forward like two gigantic railroad spikes, impaling the thing through the chest and head. It disappeared in a gout of pink flame.

But something else held Tink’s interest. She leaned forward to steal a rare to non-existent glimpse at the true face of a hero…

In the months since his inadvertent shunt onto the Material Plane and the emergence of his new ability to not only communicate with minds but connect with them , Kareem had learned much about the clusters of overlapping, constantly jabbering voices that made up the human mind when ‘viewed’ through his powers.

For example, each one was wholly unique and easily identifiable. So when shock and uncertainty ignited in a mind not far from him, he easily recalled it from the many times he had encountered her mind around Freeland House: Christina Carlyle.

Still weakened from his vast alteration of the Astral landscape, he nonetheless sought her out.

The emotions radiating from her, and the thoughts now boiling on the surface of her mind weren’t of fear and the accompanying fight or flight response. They were instead dozens of unanswered questions that sprang into her mind and overwhelmed her in the moment she saw Warrick’s face beneath Alloy’s helm.

This situation had been a common subject when Kareem and Warrick talked. Kareem advocated openness and truthfulness if Warrick really did feel as strongly for Tink as Kareem already knew he did.

But Warrick waffled on the subject. He worried that she wouldn’t like him anymore if she knew who he was, or worse, that the knowledge would put her in danger. The exact danger that was increased by this knowledge as opposed to her continuing to date him in ignorance was never stated, but based solely on the common trope he read about in the comics, Warrick was certain the danger was very real.

The argument always ended with Warrick saying he needed more time to think on the subject and Kareem respecting his wishes.

It seemed now that the decision had been made against both Warrick and Tink’s will. In Tink’s mind, disbelief warred with logic while thoughts of betrayal were routed by understanding. And ever did the questions boil and jockey for position. Why hadn’t Warrick told her? Was there a good reason, or did he just not trust her with his secret? Could she be trusted with his secret? Had she ever given him reasons for or against? Hey, she was a super hero’s girlfriend! Was that a good or bad thing?

In that moment, at the speed of thought, Kareem made a decision he knew he would feel guilty about no matter which way the coin landed. This was no way for Warrick’s secret to be revealed; no way Tink should have to find out. He had to do something.

The loudest voices, those closer to the surface, were conscious thoughts, constantly drawing on much deeper seated unconscious thoughts in the form of memories. Much like thoughts, the memories too were layered upon each other, constantly shifting as thoughts pulled some closer to the surface, and others were similarly pushed under and buried.

It was a fresh memory, prominent and shining, with no signs of wear, fading or mutation that Kareem grasped for with his power; the memory of witnessing Alloy’s fight with the behemoth. Like tearing away a piece of cotton candy, Kareem terminated the memory at the moment the beast lifted Alloy off the ground.

At the same time, he impressed a new thought into Tink’s subconscious; sleep.

The thoughts slowed in their endless waltz and settled, leaving the stragglers, especially the now orphaned thoughts connected to the now expunged memory, to weave together into strange dreams and metaphor.

“Ephemeral?” Occult’s mental voice cut through the haze of fatigue so surely that he was glad that she hadn’t called to him while he was in Tink’s mind. “The other three are down, where’s number four?”

They hadn’t all passed through the Gate by now?” Kareem examined the place where his blockade met the spiraling fires that marked the astral side of the Gate. In theory, an astral creature could pass through the gap between them, as they were essentially as formless as smoke, but these ghosts had been so gorged on emotional energy, that he doubted it.

He stepped closer to the Gate, hoping to see more. In doing so, he was careful to avoid the ball bearings he’d created to force the spaniel-ghost through.

“There’s students coming, Ephemeral, I have to close it.” Occult sent with urgency.

“I can’t tell…” he sent no more. He felt the astral presence behind him where it hadn’t been before. He turned. “This is not something your kind is capable of.” He addressed the four legged bird as it loped toward him. “Occult,” he addressed the witch, “This was no fluke. Someone sent these creatures!”

The monster leapt for him even as he struggled to form a shield. What astral matter he’d managed to pull to him dispersed as the beak closed on his arm and he was propelled toward the Gate.

Occult was just about to relay Ephemeral’s warning when the gate flared with white energy again. Her relief turned to horror when she saw Kareem cross over along with the bird monster.

Rose flames already formed a corona around them as the both tumbled, boneless to the ground just outside the circle.

“Kareem!” Zero screamed, too shocked to care about code names and secrecy at the moment. But there was nothing she could do. There was a burst of otherworldly flame and both the beast and the hero were gone. She struck off running for the last place she’d seen him.

Dumbstruck, Occult only had the wherewithal to make the hand sign to disconnect the Gate to keep Zero from passing through it in her mad rush to try and render aid. Beyond that, she found herself unable to move.

“What’s going on?” Facsimile finally reached the scene of the battle, landing next to Occult. “Did we win?” She noticed Zero going down on her knees and seemingly searching for something. “Is Z okay?”

Occult couldn’t answer.

“Why won’t anyone tell me anything?” she put a hand on Occult’s shoulder, which seemed to jolt her back to her senses.

“I-it was my gate.” She stammered, swaying on her feet. “I killed him.”

Facsimile tried to turn the other prelate around, only to have her slump into her arms. “Occult?” then, in a whisper, “Lisa?”

Though her glamour didn’t let it show, Occult’s voice betrayed that she was weeping beneath her cowl. “Kar—Ephemeral. He went through the Astral Gate. He couldn’t… nothing from the Astral…”

“Hey!” Someone shouted from the direction of the library.

Still not knowing why, Facsimile hugged her friend. “What do you mean he ‘couldn’t’” she tried to get more information.

It took a few moments before Occult could collect herself to explain how astral creatures couldn’t survive on the Material Plane.

In response, Facsimile shook her head. “No, that’s not right…” her voice betrayed her uncertainty. “He’s come across before. He was fine.”

“I saw it…” Occult managed.

“No.” Facsimile said firmly. “You saw a fireball. But people leave all kind of poofs and markers when they use powers. He probably went right back to the Astral…”

“Hey!”

Alloy, propped up by Isp and Osp and sporting a hastily created metal visor, approached. “Please tell me you guys got the rest of those things.” He said, holding his head. Through the thin eye slit, he finally made out the state the others were in. “What happened?”

“Occult thinks her Gate may have hurt Ephemeral.” Facsimile said.

“He’s gone.” They heard Zero moan from where she had been searching. “There’s nothing…”

“But that’s crazy, right?” Facsimile insisted. “Tell her. It’s happened before; when we were exploring the gate the Mauler came through. It happened only a few months ago.” More sternly, she added, “He was fine.”

“Hey!” Alloy looked up to see that the speaker was his sister, still following the letter of his rule to stay inside the library while waving a phone. He wondered when she’d gotten hold of it and remembered tossing it aside so he wouldn’t rip out the metal innards while armoring himself.

As for the other news; he couldn’t and wouldn’t believe it. That was that. He took several deep breaths. He had to believe that. “Don’t mention any of this to...” he noted Occult’s presence. In a moment like this, ignoring his own secret may have been an option, but he still needed to protect his sister. “Spark.” He made a silent apology to his parents. “I need to get her out of here.”

Facsimile nodded to him, giving unspoken consent to leave everything in her hands. Once he’d left, she got Occult back on her feet. “He’s not dead. You understand?” Occult didn’t respond, only lowered her head. “He’s not dead, but if he’s gotten lost or something again, I’m still going to make that Augustus dude pay out the nose for it. And if he really is a crazy magical villain, I need you to do it.” She directed her sharp tongue at Zero too. “And I need you to help.”

Something in what she’d said must have reached Occult. “That guy… he can’t be the one. I didn’t sense anything special at all about him besides the potential for magic. He’s never practiced. There’s more too; before… before it happened, Ephemeral told me that those creatures weren’t here by accident. Someone sent them.”

“Why?” Zero asked, making her way over to join the conversation.

“I think they wanted to get the Book of Passions.” Occult replied. “Facsimile… where’s that guy?”

Facsimile traced her invisible gaze back to the roof and promptly uttered an expletive.

Meanwhile Alloy, made his way back to the library and his sister. “A lot just happened.” He said without preamble, “I need you to hide somewhere, drop the costume and get to the car.”

Spark ignored him, instead holding out the phone. “It’s for you.”

“I don’t have time, Tammy.” He said sternly.

“Oh yes you do.” She pressed the phone into his hand. “I saw what happened too.”

It worried Alloy that his sister might be so morbid as to not be phased by what she’d just seen, but he took the phone on instinct. “Hello?”

“Warrick.” The voice was strained and hoarse, but Alloy knew it instantly.

“Kareem.” He said, in a state of dull shock.

-- • --

After that, it took Alloy a moment to find his voice again in the wash of relief and confusion that followed. “Kareem? But Fax said…”

Kareem’s voice was strained, but still carried the tone of calm and optimism it normally did. “I’m fine. I’m at home, but I can’t speak long, so please listen; you must tell Occult that someone is helping those creatures.” He took a deep breath. “And you should go back to where you woke up. Make sure Christina gets home safely.”

“Christina… Tink? What—“

“It hurts to speak. Please, just do this.” Kareem didn’t wait for an affirmative before hanging up.

“What’s going on?” Tammy demanded as Alloy clicked his phone closed.

“We’ve…” For a second, he considered explaining the situation to her, but thought better of it. There was a time and place for that. “Change of plans, kid.” Alloy tried to sound every bit the quintessential big brother he was, “Get out of that get up and get to the car, okay? We’ll be with you in a minute.” Tammy noted the seriousness in his tone and didn’t argue as he strode out of the library toward the others.

“What are we going to do?” Zero fretted, tears freely flowing down her cheeks.

“Nothing.” Facsimile snapped. “We’re going to find and pound Augustus and get the Book, then Ephemeral’s going to turn up a little frazzled because of ‘astral shear’ or something caused by that spell. It’s going to turn out fine.”

“What if it doesn’t?” Zero almost shouted at her. “He’s not here. He’s not answering when I try and talk to him in my head…” The temperature began to drop as her anger rose. “It’s not going to be okay, Cyn. I watched it happen and—“

Facsimile’s arm stretched out and grabbed Zero’s collar. With impressive strength, she dragging the other girl so their faces were very close together. “Facsimile.” She said sternly. “Facsimile. Zero. We’ve still got something horrible going on. And after that’s done, Ephemeral,” She made a point to sound the codename out, “Is going to be fine. Safe and sound.”

She reached out to put a hand on Zero’s shoulder, but the other girl pushed away from her. “Don’t you get it?! I saw it! I saw him! He’s—“

“He’s at home.” Alloy rejoined the group.

“Wait, what?” Facsimile let more relief show than she intended.

Alloy nodded. “He called my cell. It’s our number and everything.” Isp reached out to give Zero the tentacle approximation of a hug. “He doesn’t sound good, but he’s okay. We should go make sure he’s alright as soon we make sure everything’s okay here.”

“He’s okay.” Zero murmured. “He didn’t…” She smiled a small smile and closed her eyes. After a few seconds of deep breathing, she seemed to be back to her old self again, a drastic shift from her ranting earlier. “I’m glad. I don’t want anything to happen to any of you.”

Facsimile raised an eyebrow at this, but let it pass. “I told you he’d be okay.” She said, but she didn’t let herself lose sight of the other issues at hand, “But there’s a problem…”

“I know.” Alloy said, “He said someone’s been helping those things.”

“Augustus.” Facsimile growled.

“No.” Occult said, breaking her long silence. “I sensed the ability to use magic in him, but he doesn’t actually know anything. Pulling something like this off isn’t top tier complex, but it’s like asking a toddler to do trigonometry.”

“Then it’s another caster.” Facsimile said. “Morganna? She’s like that cat from that song, only more destructi—she’s exactly like that cat from that song.”

“I’d know if Morganna was back.” Occult said quickly. “This definitely isn’t her. It’s got to be someone else.”

“It’s a good thing Chaos isn’t here to hear that.” Zero said, her serenity apparently completely regenerated. “He’d be pretty angry.” She looked in the direction of The Hills and then at the slowly assembling band of gawkers come to stare at the end result of a super-brawl. “Still, finding out who it is sounds like it’ll take a while and Alloy said Ephemeral didn’t sound so…”

“Go tend to your friend.” Occult said. “None of you knows magic anyway and that’s the only way to track this guy. I’ll contact you when I pinpoint him.”

“Thanks.” Zero said, offering a sheepish smile.

“Nothing of it.” Occult said, “You’d do the same for me.”

“I’ll meet you guys at home.” Alloy said, “There’s something Ephemeral asked me to take care of, okay?”

Facsimile looked puzzled but nodded. “No problem, we’ll take care of the Spark until you get back.”

Alloy turned back as Osp latched onto a lamp pole to swing him over the crowd. “Please don’t call her that to her face.”

“Miss? Are you alright?” The voice was partly muffled, partly reverberating, like the speaker was yelling into a trashcan.

Tink opened her eyes and was startled to find herself face to face analog with a metallic snake. At least that was the closest approximation her mind could come up with.

“Uh, I’m over here.” Trying to keep one eye on the snake (how was it looking at her without eyes?), Tink turned to see a true knight in shining armor kneeling beside her. The only thing that kept it from being a classic pose was the two metallic tendrils extending from gaps in the armor over his arms. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

Wincing at a brief headache as she adjusted her glasses, Tink got herself up on her elbows. “It’s you. I mean: No, I’m fine… I think.”

“No idea what happened?”

“None. I was watching you and that thing and I guess I fainted.” She frowned. “That doesn’t sound like me though.”

Inside his helmet, Alloy frowned with her. No, it didn’t sound like her. He’d have to ask Kareem when he was feeling better. Before long, he realized that a full minute had passed in silence. “Say, you’re that girl from the construction site thing. I saved your boyfriend.” It was awkward to say, but it least it broke the silence.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Tink wondered if she needed to remind him that she’d temporarily defeated him as well, but decided against it.

“So… this place is going to be crawling with cops and media in a few minutes, how about I take you home?”

Tink gave him a suspicious look. “I’ve got a boyfriend. You just said it.”

Alloy tried his best to act taken aback, and act that was inhibited by his armor. “Whoa, it’s a ride, nothing else. I’m one of the good guys, remember? I’d never think of putting the moves on some other guy’s girlfriend.” He tapped his plated chest. “Besides, how much contact can you get through an eighth of an inch of steel?”

Chewing her lip, she considered. Sure, Alloy may not think anything of it, and she certainly wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone else, but what would Warrick think if he heard about it?

She almost laughed out loud when it occurred to her that he would think it was the coolest thing ever. The fact that his girlfriend had ‘gone for a swing’ with a prelate, especially Alloy, who he seemed to hold in high esteem, would impress him so much that he wouldn’t even consider any other ramifications. With a shrug, she nodded. “Sure, why not?”

Alloy chuckled at that. She had a way with words that could make anything seem to be a casual happenstance. “Cool. And to ensure there’s no concept of hanky-panky…” He turned on his knees while willing the plates that guarded his back to sprout handles, just like he’d done for Zero and Hope during the times he had to carry them.

“Heh.” Tink shook her head. “A super piggyback ride. Never heard of those before.”

“I’m an innovator.” Alloy laughed

The next time Augustus had his wits about him, he found that he was sitting at his own kitchen table, his hands resting on the cover of the Book. It felt warm, almost alive in its own right. For a moment, he wondered if everything he’d seen hadn’t just been a dream, perhaps guilt over taking the book home.

But then he heard the hum of the rehydration oven on the other side of the kitchen. Looking up, he saw the man from the rooftop watching the oven like a cat watching a crippled mouse. In a less harsh light, he finally got a good look at him.

Of average height, the man was dressed in a black t-shirt with a wide neck and white block letters that read ‘I Don’t Think I’m Better Than Everyone, Just You.’ and jeans. Both garments were too big for him and worn awkwardly. Long, straight, black hair was pulled back from an angular face with a broad, chiseled nose.

The necklace of yellow stones wasn’t a necklace at all; they were embedded in his tanned skin. Not only did a group of them follow his collar bone, but there was one embedded in his forehead and larger stones in the palms of his hands and on the backs of his wrists.

“What just happened?” Augustus found he couldn’t manage the anger and indignation he knew he should feel for this violation of his home.

The stranger didn’t answer until the oven dinged and he had extracted a piping hot dish of orange chicken and rice from it. “Would you be more comfortable with my telling you that I called upon an ancient power to pull us through the hellish nothingness between this world and the Astral Plane, seeking out a place you recognize as safe and secure in a variant of a ritual whose name translates to English as ‘Hide at Home’?” He picked up a piece of sauce coated chicken and popped it into his mouth. “Or should I shrug and say ‘magic’?”

“I don’t think I’d be comfortable with either.” He looked down at the Book of Passions. “Magic’s not real.”

Pulling up a chair, the stranger held out a hand dramatically. The yellow stone in his palm glowed intensely. A yellow blob of light emerged, changing shape until it had become a square edged utensil of some sort, which he used to lift some rice to his mouth. “That’s a fact then?”

Augustus fell silent.

“I can’t say I’m surprised you don’t believe.” The man continued as he at. “I’m looked around here. The things your science does… the ovens that turn frozen, inedible blocks into tasty, tasty food.” He gestured at the rehydration oven, “Storage boxes for food that keep it cold—not only cold, but various degrees of ‘cold’—I can go on and on and I’ve only been here a month or so. I still don’t know the full potential your ‘computers’ and ‘holography’ have. If you can do that on your own, I can understand wondering why you should bother with magic.”

He let Augustus stew in this while he savored the chicken. “I could go on for a long time about why you should, but let’s be honest, Auggie…” He tapped the leather bound Book fondly with the end of his utensil. “Magic is bothering with you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Augustus said quickly. “I just wanted something to read and found this.”

“And you make a habit of reading books you’re not even supposed to take out of the Library Vault?” the stranger smiled at Augustus’s discomforted look. “No, the Book chose you, called out to you.”

“What do you know about this?”

“I know a lot.” The stranger took another bite of his meal. “They weren’t always Books. For my people, they were Songs. It doesn’t matter what form they take, they’re older than Mankind and form the pillars of our magic; Tranquility opposing Madness, Reason opposing Passions. The way I here it, it’s the struggle between the 4 that creates magic on this world.”

The reverent tone in the stranger’s voice made Augustus very conscious of the ‘alive’ feeling he’d gotten from the book earlier. He quickly took his fingers away from it.

The stranger laughed. “That’s not going to avert destiny, Auggie. The Book of Passions wants you to use it.”

“You know so much about, it, why don’t you use it?”

More laughter. “It doesn’t want me. Plus, that’s magic of this world. I’ve got my own.” He reached up and pulled down the neck of his shirt. Beneath, there as a large stone similar to the ones on the rest of his body, flanked by three smaller ones arranged around it. “Fragments of another world that fell on this one back when I was your age. The elders had a name for that place. In English, it means ‘The Warped Star’. They called me Warpstar after it.”

He grinned at the incredulity on Augustus’s face. “It lets me copy the essence of a thing; not what it actually does, but parts of its metaphysical nature; and graft them onto myself. That’s how I know about your country and your language after just a month.”

“That can’t be for real.” Augustus shook his head. Even with what he’d seen, he couldn’t accept it. “You’re just a really weird psionic or something. So were those thi—guys at the college that the Descendants fought.”

Warpstar scraped the last rice and sauce out of the dish and chewed it thoughtfully. “These psionics… now that’s something I didn’t believe in myself. But science is its own magic, I suppose.” He dropped the utensil into the dish and set back. “But I think you do believe me, Auggie. It’s just that you’re scared. Scared that you’ve got a destiny you can’t fight—that’ll make other people think you’re crazy.”

“I’m… starting to think I’m crazy myself.”

“Probably.” Warpstar shrugged. “But it can be worth it. Magic’s a nice thing to have, no matter what it comes from. Get good enough at it and you can have anything you desire.”

“If I make enough money, I can have anything I desire too.”

“Anything, Auggie?” Warpstar laughed. This one was a crueler, mocking laugh. “Do you honestly believe that? And even if it were true, what’s the guarantee that you’ll make all this money? Magic can get you money too, you know?”

Augustus caught himself caressing the Book’s cover and quickly moved his hands away. “Why are you telling me this? What do you get out of it?”

“Good question.” Warpstar admitted. “Truth is, I believe in the principle of power in numbers, and there aren’t a lot of spellcasters around anymore. If we do this right, there are going to be people trying to stop us; trying to take the Book from you, and pry the stones out of me. But if we can work together, we can stop them, Auggie. And we can have whatever we want.”

Unbidden, images of fame, fortune and women flickered in his mind. He hadn’t been able to keep a girlfriend for more than a few months before, Deborah being only the last in a long string of strikeouts. On top of that, his college was a huge financial strain on his family. He had no real prospects and really nothing to lose. Why not see if the magic Warpstar promised could help him with all his problems?

He agreed to Warpstar’s offer, even as a small part of his mind wondered if those thoughts were really his.

-- • --

“Stay here and wait for Warrick, little sister.” Cyn said, entering the Freeland House kitchen first, giving it a quick once over. What she was careful not to say was that if Kareem was badly hurt, she didn’t want the fourteen year old to see it. “Jun, with me please?”

Juniper tried to give Tammy a reassuring smile as she brushed past to follow Cyn into the downstairs commons. For her part, Tammy only nodded and obediently took a seat.

“About earlier…” Juniper said as soon as the kitchen door was closed behind her. “I’m really sorry.”

“Water and bridge stuff.” Cyn replied, flashing the other girl a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” She looked around the commons and then at the twin sets of stairs leading to the upstairs. “Where are the landline phones in this place?”

“I don’t think there are any.” Juniper said, then added, “I didn’t mean what I said, and you turned out right.”

“How the hell could Kareem have called Warrick then?” Cyn asked, looking for any obvious clues.

“I’m really glad you were right too. Kareem’s a really nice person and–-“

Cyn put a finger to Juniper’s lips to quiet her. “Jun, stop. Please. I wasn’t right; I was in denial, okay? This is like… my family, seeing I never had a real one. And you told me one of them was dead. I wouldn’t have accepted it even if I saw it, okay? I was scared. The same kind of scared you were, okay?”

Juniper nodded.

“Good. Right now there’s nothing to be scared, or worried or sorry over. Kareem isn’t dead. But he may be hurt; Tammy and Warrick said he sounded real bad. We need to find him before he gets worse. So where would he have to go to call Warrick’s phone?”

“There’s no landline.” Juniper said again, “We all use cell phones, we don’t need one.”

Cyn suddenly brightened. “Wait; there is one person that makes calls without a cell. Ms. Brant calls her friends in other countries with voice over IP. Come on!” She raced up the stairs with a hand clamped firmly to Juniper’s wrist.

Sure enough, the door to Laurel’s workshop was open. A trial of blood drops led to it from the upstairs commons. The lights were all off except for the main monitor, which only showed operating system’s main screen and an open voice over IP session. Kareem—not the astral entity they had known for over a year, but the flesh and blood person they had never met, was slumped in Laurel’s chair, wrapped in the sheet from his bed.

Cyn instinctively adjusted her eyes to the dimness. The sheet was stained with blood, but not enough to be dangerous. The source was a tear in Kareem’s arm; probably from pulling his IV out. He had staunched it by ripping the sheet and tying it off. A much smaller trickle of blood came from the side of his mouth. He had also removed his feeding tube.

“Is he okay?” Juniper couldn’t see any of this and sounded as if she was forcing her trademark optimism to its limits.

“I don’t know.” Cyn said. She touched his face and felt warmth. “He’s still alive at least. And breathing. We should get him back to his room and call Laurel; we need Melissa back and we need to hook him back up to his machines.” Increasing her upper body strength, she reached down and lifted him gently out of the chair.

Kareem stirred at the touch and the conversation. “…Fine.” He managed after a few false starts.

“You don’t look fine.” Cyn was already marching down the hall toward his room. “Weren’t all the treatments Laurel was giving you supposed to stop the entropy?”

“Atrophy.” Juniper corrected helpfully.

“That.”

“It did.” Kareem managed, “I’m just so tired. Strained my powers.”

“And you ripped your arm open coming to help. We need Melissa.” Cyn reached Kareem’s room. She could have followed the blood drops if she didn’t already know the way. The machines that usually crowded the bed had been pushed roughly aside. The bloody IV needle dangled to the floor and the feeding tube leaked a small but steady stream of bright yellow nutritional supplement across the sheets. The other monitoring and care devices were similarly tossed aside.

“We can’t put him here.” Juniper noted, “Not until we clean the place up.”

“We’ll put you in Warrick’s room for now.” Cyn grew a third arm and used it to open the door. “Man, you’re arm’s bleeding bad. We don’t have time to call Melissa. Jun, call Emergency.”

“No.” Kareem said, letting Cyn sit him on the edge of Warrick’s bed. “Just…” His head dipped as he fought off the extreme fatigue, “First aid kit. Bring me needle and thread.”

Juniper was already headed for the upstairs commons where the previous owners had stored one of the many wartime era first aid kits in Freeland House.

“You’re not going to stitch your own arm up.” Cyn blanched. “I don’t think you get how much that’s going to hurt. We don’t even have anything for the pain.”

“I can’t.” Kareem said, gesturing with his good arm to show how he couldn’t properly reach. “You have to.”

“Oh hell no.” Cyn said, “I flunked Home Ec at the Academy. I sewed my hand into a pillow on accident.” Her apprehension only mounted as Juniper returned with the first aid kit.

“You have to.” Kareem said softly. “I… help you. My mind.”

“I heard his parents talking one time when they were here.” Juniper said, producing sterile wipes, surgical cotton and a needle from the kit. “They were on the run for a while before his parents managed to come here. His father taught Kareem all about survivalism.”

“Yeah, but he can’t teach us that now.” Cyn said, “He said his powers are strained, trying that might brain-blow him.”

Juniper looked past the medical products she’s produced to Kareem’s increasingly out of focus eyes. “I can do it.” She said.

“What, your parents were survivalists too?” Cyn asked.

No eye contact was made as Juniper sprayed a topical anesthetic/antiseptic on the wound and readied the needle. “Something like that.”

“First rule of magic:” Warpstar was walking slightly ahead of rather than beside Augustus as they crossed a footbridge connecting Twin Timbers, where Augustus lived, to Wagner Park and the Southwestern edge of Mayfield, “There are three core types of it: magic that comes from yourself, magic that comes from a Source, like a field or leyline, and ritual magic.”

Augustus was happy that Warpstar had finally decided to leave his home, given that he had no idea how he would have explained a gem encrusted magician to his mother or older brother. On another level, he was engrossed with the idea of magic and everything it could do for him.

“Self-magic is usually either personal, like changing your shape, or short lived; most low power attack spells, minor prestidigitation; those are self-magic.” Warpstar offered a friendly smile to a female jogger who stopped to gawk upon hearing his casual dissertation on the occult.

“Sourced magic usually just channels the source; elemental fire makes fireballs, flash arrows, fire barriers, and so on and so forth. Specialists usually tap a lot of sources just to have variety. My people; they were masters at Source magic, even when most of the world became hell bent on rituals and self-magic.”

“And rituals?” Augustus found himself asking. They skirted the park and were walking the wide sidewalk running parallel to it. Across Wagner Avenue, upscale stores had sprung up to cater to those rich enough to afford park views.

“Rituals are the most powerful, but the most difficult. This world runs on rules and if you do certain things with certain elements—I’m talking metaphysical elements, of course—in a certain way, maybe at a certain time in a certain place…. Well, you can make some really interesting things happen.”

“Like what?”

“I’m glad you asked that, Auggie, because now it’s time for the demonstration element of today’s lesson.” He stopped and turned. They had stopped in front of the jewelry store. “Stones, especially precious gems, have a lot of power because people’s minds give them power. As in this world as in…” He tapped one of the yellow shards in his wrist. “Others.”

“I didn’t really explain these to you, did I?” Warpstar asked.

Augustus stared at the window displays of diamonds. Was Warpstar going to rob it? Ask him to rob it? Could he bring himself to do such a thing?”

Oblivious, or simply uncaring of Augustus’s thoughts, Warpstar continued. “Like I said, I can take the essence of a thing and graft it to myself. Pretty useful, except I only have so many stones, some essences take up multiple small stones, and only the bigger ones are reusable and those aren’t permanent.” He scowled at the jewelry store as if it were the cause of his problems. “So it’s really a pretty finite power, don’t you think?” Casually, he walked to the corner and waited for the light to change.

“Sort of, but it still seems nice to me.” Augustus admitted.

“Only because you don’t get the magnitude of what’s landed in your lap.” Warpstar obeyed the walk signal and brought Auggie to stand in front of the display window. “You still don’t do you? I mean, Passions chose you. There is something essentially you about you that Passions wants and it chooses to open up all magic to you.”

“I thought we were talking about ritual magic.” Augustus said. For the first time, he finally really felt panic and unease. The Book was worried about Warpstar too, he realized.

“We are.” Warpstar put a hand against the glass in front of a perfectly arranged diamond necklace. “For example, did you know that many arrangements that are pleasing to the human eye also hold occult significance? It’s like we’re wired for magic, to paraphrase scientists who would never mention magic.” The stone in his hand glowed.

“Diamonds, for example, Auggie, mean control. I’ve found that if I use them, I can control the essences I take.”

“Why would you need that now?”

“For this, Auggie.” Warpstar turned and placed a hand on Augustus’s head. “Combine to the power of the Warped Star.” He intoned in a much deeper, much more predatory voice. There was a shudder in the air as yellow ribbons of light flowed from Augustus into one of the stones under Warpstar’s shirt.

When it was over, both were still standing.

“Wait.” Augustus backed away. “Did whatever you did not work?” He bumped into a man who had himself stopped at the sight of Warpstar’s lightshow.

“I said, I gain the essence, Auggie, I never said you loose anything.” Warpstar shrugged casually. “Which is why I have to do this.” With viper speed, the strange magician threw a right cross that knocked Augustus on his back.

He hadn’t even hit the ground before Warpstar took the Book from him. “And now I’m the one who has that thing that Passions wants.” He mused, pushing his way through the growing crowd. Amid the confusion, he tapped the power held in one of his stones and took a new shape, one less conspicuous.

Only a few blocks away, Alloy was traversing the Shuster Street Bridge, on his way back from making sure Tink got home safely. Rows of townhouses had proven less than conducive to swinging and the two had been forced to walk the blocks from the bridge to Tink’s house like normal people. Wryly, he noted that such things didn’t happen to prelates who could fly.

Osp set him down on the last bridge tower so he could get the lay of the land. Taking Tink home had been a nice diversion, but what had happened earlier in the day wasn’t lost on him. Someone had used ghosts to attack the college and seriously hurt Kareem. And the prime suspect, a freshman he knew from his work at the museum, was still out there.

Months of patrolling and visually scanning the city from on high kicked in even as he was only trying to focus himself on the task at hand. There was a large knot of people crowded around something on the ground about three blocks away, in front of a jewelry store where he and Chaos had caught a pair of jewel thieves a month and a half before.

“Bad guys never learn.” Alloy sighed, mentally directing Isp and Osp to take him there.

His head hurt. Augustus was actually relieved to realize that he was finally able to have something at the forefront of his mind other than that damn book. Book. He corrected his own mental capitalization.

“Just lay still son.” An older man’s voice said and a large hand pressed on his shoulder to keep him from getting up. “The paramedics will be here any minute.”

Slowly, Augustus opened his eyes and saw that he was surrounded by people. A middle aged man, the one who was keeping him still, was kneeling beside him. Other people were gathered around, probably waiting for the show.

“Who was that guy, kid? Some kind of psionic?” A young, Asian woman, not much older than he was asked, “Should we call the Descendants or something?”

“Fast, easy service with a smile.” A metallic tendril looped through the bystanders, it’s end melting and reforming into a tripod as it flexed and lowered the armored form of Alloy into their midst. Alloy nodded to the girl. “What do we have—“He spied Augustus on the ground. “You.”

His tone must have been more threatening than he thought, because the man beside Augustus moved to place himself between those two. “Whoa, Alloy. This boy’s been attacked. He’s not the bad guy here.”

“Maybe not here.” Alloy said, having Osp gently lift the man out of the way. The tentacle took extra time readjusting his coat and dusting it off. “But there was a big brouhaha at the Dayspring campus this evening and this guy’s the prime suspect.”

A shrill siren announced the arrival of the paramedics, the sleek, new vertical take off and landing ambulance coming down in the street. Isp gently wrapped Augustus’s arms and legs and lifted him.

“Wait, he needs a doctor.” The girl objected. “Some loon with crystals in his hands did something to him, then punched him out and stole his book!”

Alloy took a closer look. Augustus was, indeed missing the book Occult had been some worried about. “Fine, the EMTs can check him out, but then I’ve got questions.” He had Isp carry Augustus behind him as he made his way to the ambulance.

As the paramedics looked the young man over, Alloy stood guard should anything magical happen. He didn’t expect the magical happening to be Occult teleporting in. She didn’t look very surprised to see him.

“I got Auggie.” Alloy said as she turned her shadowed countenance toward him, “But—“

“I know.” Occult said, holding up the Digi-book of Reason. “I finally know everything. About the 4, about why Augustus was drawn to the Book, and why someone else wants it. You, me and him need to have some quality time, along with your teammates. Ever teleported before?”

-- • --

One of Occult’s teleportation portals expanded into existence on the floor of Freeland House’s downstairs commons, bathing everything in pink light. From it emerged Occult and Alloy, standing back to back with Augustus, blindfolded by a strip of metal, between them.

Alloy didn’t move until the light had faded and the portal had closed. “You know, I still think we should have you blindfolded too.” He pointed out, turning to face her.

“What am I supposed to learn just seeing the inside of your house?” she asks.

“Could be anything.” Alloy shrugged, “I don’t know, I just don’t like handing out our secret ID and it’s not like you’re planning on giving yours away either.”

“Fair point.” Said Occult. It was a jab to her conscience that he didn’t even know he was making. She hated not telling him, but it would just become way too complicated. She glanced around. “Where are they, anyway? You did call them, right?”

“Sorry,” Tammy said, rushing down the stairs in the Spark costume she’d worn back when Warrick and the Descendants first found her using her powers to unwittingly try joining a villainous organization. “They’re arguing with Ephemeral. He wants to come, but they say he needs to rest.”

“What the hell are you wearing?” Alloy demanded, sounding more like his father than he wanted to admit.

“Costume.” Tammy shrugged.

“You’re not supposed to—grr—where did you get it here?!”

“Packed it.”

“You mean to tell me—oh, jeez, Mom and Dad are going to kill us both.”

“Allooooooy!” Tammy/Spark whined, “My secret identity!”

“You did just lecture me on that.” Occult supplied, “Not that it’s not obvious that you two are related.”

“Okay, we’re ready.” Facsimile came down the stairs past Spark. Zero wasn’t far behind her. “The patient has been properly threatened with forced sedation and is resting spitefully. What’s the deal with William Tell?” She gestured toward the blindfolded Augustus. “Where’s the book?”

“That’s what we need to talk about.” Occult said.

“Wait, I don’t want T… Spark involved in this. Spark, go keep Ephemeral company.” Alloy ordered.

“But you guys need me on this!” Spark protested. “You needed me before.”

She’s got a point there.” Zero said, swanning down the stairs.

“You haven’t heard what I’ve heard.” Alloy points out, “You wouldn’t want her involved either.”

“For now there’s no involvement.” Occult said, taking a seat in Ian’s armchair. “I need to explain what’s going on here and frankly; it’s a little hard for even me to understand.”

“This should be fun.” Said Facsimile, coming down with Spark. They took one couch along with Zero while Alloy helped the blindfolded Augustus sit on the other. “What’d you learn, Black Magic Woman?”

Occult snorted despite herself at the joke. “It’s mostly about the Books. You all know about the Book of Reason and the one the ghosts were after, the Book of Passions. As it turns out, they’re a set of four, actually called ‘The 4’; Reason, Passions, Tranquility and Madness.”

“Oh god, please don’t say we have to find the Madness one.” Alloy muttered, “That has ‘Lovecraftian Horror’ written all over it.”

“No, not yet at least.” Occult assured him. “But the thing is, these aren’t normal books, they’re… how do I even explain this; they’re the… source code for magic, like the basic AI. Each one has the base rules and instructions one how to use it, and between them, the theory is that they actually generate many magical principles in the world.”

“Okay, that sounds weird.” Spark interjected. “Where did you get that?”

Occult produced the Digi-Book of Reason from her sleeve. “The Book… told me. Well, not actually ‘told me’, but it chimed, and I looked, and there were pages on the screen I never saw before. The Books are sort of sentient, I’m guessing. From what I read, they influence people to get to the people they want to own them, and to translate them into new media. They went from Stories, to Songs, to Books, and now Reason is a Digi-book.”

“What about the original upstairs?” Facsimile glanced at the ceiling.

“What happens when you copy paste a computer program?” Occult shrugged. “You get two. I told you it was hard to explain. There may be dozens of each of these Books floating around now, and now that Morganna’s let magic back in, who knows what else.”

“Okay…” Facsimile drew out the sound, “So where’s this guy’s Book?”

“I think it best if you hear that from him.” Alloy says, nudging Augustus.

“Uh…” Augustus started inauspiciously, “See… This guy with yellow rocks in his skin stole it from me.”

There was a puzzled silence in the room until Zero spoke for everyone. “Come again?”

“His name… he told me to call him Warpstar.” Augustus said, “He told me he’d show me how to use the Book and magic and get everything I wanted—“

“How dumb are you?” Spark looked absolutely disgusted with him. “That’s what all bad guys say! That’s what the Devil says! Have you never watched a movie?”

“I didn’t have a choice, okay?” Augustus snapped back, “The Book was making me all woogie. Anyway, we were walking back into Mayfield when he started talking about his powers; how he can like steal the powers of things or something. And we get to this jewelry thing and he does… whatever it was to me. Afterward, he took the Book and punched me out.”

“He probably took on whatever qualities that made the Book of Passions seek him out in the first place.” Occult clarified. “Neither I, nor the Book of Reason knows who the hell this guy is, but he’s a magical Big Bad with a crazy powerful Book. We need to find him and get it back.”

“How do we find him?” Spark asked, excited, “Are we going to canvas the city? Find his favorite places to go? Oh, I know! If he’s stolen part of this guy, maybe he’ll be thinking like him!”

Occult unsnapped the pendant around her neck. “Actually, I’ve got an easier way.”

Though its roots and economy were deeply entwined in the robotics and electronic goods industries, Mayfield had a thriving local art and theater scene. So much so that the previous year, the parks services commission broke ground on a second outdoor amphitheatre in Wagner Park.

Still under construction, the facility was currently composed of just the bare steps leading into a pit and a concrete blockhouse with naked fixtures. A panel fence had been thrown up to keep visitors out, but it had never stopped Augustus when he’d needed a quiet place to read or draw.

Nor did it stop Warpstar, now possessed of several of Augustus’s quirks, from going there as well. He sat on the top row of stairs, pouring over the secret contents the Book of Passions laid bare to him. But his concentration didn’t distract him from noticing the flash of rose light as Occult emerged behind him.

“What a surprise.” He gently closed his ill gotten Book. “Reason hunts down Passions. I never would have—“ He was on his feet with animal quickness, charging Occult with a stone encrusted palm ready to strike.

“That’s not the surprise.” Occult didn’t move as he came at her.

A blur of metal suddenly blocked Warpstar’s path and his palm clanged against armor. Alloy caught Warpstar’s wrist in a gauntleted hand.

“That’s the surprise. I teleported the Descendants to the other side of the site before coming for you, Warped Star.”

Warpstar sneered at Alloy. “Descendants. The psionic vigilantes that my ghosts fought? Ha, I’ve never tried this on one of your kind before.” He grin exuded malevolence.

“Combine to the power of a Warped Star!” The stone in his palm glowed and seemed to sink into the armor around Alloy’s chest. Ribbons of energy flowed from Alloy and into another of the stones embedded in Warpstar’s chest.

Isp and Osp would have none of it. With a sound of metal shearing, they whipped out at their host’s attacker. A white glow filled Warpstar’s eyes and the tentacles recoiled, detouring into the ground at his feet with twin cracking sounds.

“Power over metal.” He breathed. Shifting the Book to his other hand, he gestured, causing the metal struts buried in the concrete to buckle, throwing Alloy back and away from him. “Interesting.” Glancing sideways, he stomped his right foot, causing those same struts to rise, lifting a slab of concrete into the path of five glittering ice daggers thrown by Zero. “Very interesting.”

Hey! You can’t do that to him!” Spark pointed her paper clip studded fingers and sent ten arcs of electricity cracking toward her brother’s assailant.

Leaping like a wildcat, Warpstar dodged the attack, but met with the heavy end of Occult’s staff. “Twenty Ton Crush.” The spellcaster intoned. The staff plowed into the large stone in Warpstar’s midsection and threw him back against the blockhouse that would eventually hold restrooms and a concession stand.

“Nice.” Warpstar complemented. “But you forget, that I’ve been reading the Book of Passions.” He extended his hands before him as if holding an invisible basketball. “Frigid mote of blue ice born in the northern wind, everlasting cold of the ages. Cut to the bone of my enemies and shatter them in my sight. Pristine heart of the glacier. Ice Bomb!” And orb of blue light appeared in his outstretched hands and disgorged a wave of bluish mist.

It didn’t reach Occult, striking another wall of ice and freezing into a thick frost. Warpstar didn’t have time try another spell before a golden hand grabbed his arm and he was thrown hard against the wall.

“Sorry, Warp, but we’ve got our own Ice Bombshell.” Facsimile slammed him into the wall again for good measure. “Hey, Z, what do you feel about a name change?”

Despite the beating, Warpstar wasn’t done yet. He lifted a glowing palm up. “Combine to the power—“

“Not this time.” A chunk of debris caromed off his temple with stinging agony. Alloy summoned a sword out of the broken concrete as Isp tossed another rock to Osp.

Warpstar put a hand to his temple and looked in astonishment at the blood welling up there.

“Hurt, didn’t it?” Facsimile asked.

Warpstar looked up to see her fist streaking toward his face. “Chaotic Reversal.” He spat out just before impact. The forces meant for Warpstar’s face instead rebounded into Facsimile’s arm with the sound of many bones breaking.

Facsimile hissed in pain and lashed out with a kick to his ribs. “Son of a bitch, that hurt.” She followed with a left cross from her uninjured hand. The second the bones reknit, she swung with the right again.

This time Warpstar caught the punch with a glowing palm. “Combine to the power of a Warped Star!”

Watching the ribbons of energy rush into the third stone, but unable to break the mystic grasp, Facsimile cursed herself for making such a mistake. At the same time, she resolved to make up for it.

For his part, Warpstar smiled manically. “Amazing!” he exclaimed, letting one of his arms stretch and wrap Facsimile. “Now this is a power!” Almost casually, he used his rubber band-like arm to dash Facsimile against the same wall she’d slammed him into.

There was a moment of tense silence as Warpstar faced off against the other four prelates.

“Boys, get him!” Alloy ordered suddenly. “He can’t control metal anymore!” Ever obedient in battle, Isp and Osp speared out to avenge Facsimile.

“That is where you would be wrong.” Warpstar gestured and sent Isp and Osp off course and into Facsimile’s side as she tried to get up. The golden prelate screamed as the orihalcite spears cracked her ribs. “And your friend pays the ultimate price for you being wrong.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say ultimate.” Zero pointed out.

Warpstar looked genuinely surprised to see Facsimile getting up, her wounds closing like water flowing.

“And so what? You’ve got our powers. Big deal, we know how to deal with our powers.” Facsimile reached into her own midsection and produced a leather bound book: The Book of Passions. “But I got your book when you grabbed me.”

Rage played over Warpstar’s features. “You… you!” he seethed before quickly collecting himself. “It seems I got some of your anger issues.” He said, clinging to calmness. “No matter. Because I don’t just have your powers.” His left arm extended into an iron spear. His left became a golden pick. “I combined them to my power.”

The ground shook as spears formed from the struts below exploded up around him and waved like the tentacles of some deep sea spawn.

“Congratulations, heroes. You’ve made me impervious to all harm and given me command of 90% of the elements on the planet. And for an encore, you and the witch at going to give me the keys to infinite magic power as well.”

-- • --

With the sound of tortured metal, the animated steel bars snaked out toward Occult while Warpstar sent his own transformed limbs in Facsimile’s direction. The pick-hand went high, crashing into the wall behind her, throwing dust up in its wake; all the better to obscure the spear headed for Facsimile’s chest.

“Levanto esta pared!” Occult protected herself with her trademark wall and made it press forward to ward the questing weapons away.

At the same time, Isp and Osp double teamed Warpstar’s spear-hand, driving it into the ground before it could reach Facsimile. They had no time to react when that same hand curled around them and held them in a death grip.

“It’s useless.” Warpstar said. He whipped his arm like an out of control fire hose, yanking Alloy off his feet by his connection to Isp and Osp. “I’m not even after you. There’s not reason for you to even be involved.”

A trio of ice daggers drove through the arm holding Isp and Osp in response. “You made this about us.” Zero readied another volley, “When you made those ghosts attack people and hurt Auggie.”

“Huh.” Warpstar shrugged. “Maybe it is a little about you. No matter—catch.” He swung Alloy along with Isp and Osp overhead like a flail. Zero only just managed to dodge as the armored prelate crashed into the ground she’d been standing on.

“Hey!” Spark shouted.

“Don’t do it.” Warrick tried to warn her. But he was too involved in extracting his bent and broken armor from the concrete to shout it properly.

“Leave my brother alone!” Blue sparks arced between the paper clips attached to Spark’s fingers, creating a brilliant flare between her hands.

“Right. And what’s the little girl going to do to me?” Warpstar scoffed.

“This!” The arc jagged into the exposed metal surrounding Warpstar before arcing up into his body. The result was spectacular. The villain screamed bloody murder as his absolute control over his body turned against him. Writhing and convulsing, and changing color, he fell to his knees. “And don’t call me little. I’m fourteen, thank you very much.” Spark sniffed.

“You won’t live to see fif—“ Struggling to regain control over his haywire body, Warpstar didn’t even manage to finish his threat before Isp and Osp caught him in the midsection and threw him back into the blockhouse.

Facsimile rose up, her own arms forming into heavy clubs. “I guess you got more than just my anger issues, huh? Bet you’re just starving and tired after all that involuntary shifting too. Well so am I, but you’re the one getting to take a nap.” Her arms thrust out to knock out the corners of the building, sending it crashing down on Warpstar’s head. “And I still have your Book!”

Barely had the last stone settled before an earsplitting scream went up from within. Concrete slab and metal reinforcement went flying as Warpstar exploded from his would be tomb. His mounting rage and resultant lack of control over his stolen powers had turned his skin copper and his lower half into a hasty composite between a snake’s tail and a tree’s roots.

“You don’t get it, do you?” He roared. “I am immortal. Indestructible. I’ll have the Books long before you can harm me in any serious way.”

“With Facsimile’s powers? Possibly.” Occult produced a cell phone from her robes and held it up so Warpstar could see. “At least from this side. But those stones of yours are vulnerable from the Astral. And as luck would have it, we’ve got an expert on Astral targeting on our side.” She pushed a button. “Right Ephemeral?” The only response anyone could see was a rose glint in Occult’s eye.

“You bitch; you’ll never get the spell off.” Warpstar snarled, but before he could move, the steel reinforcement from the blockhouse rose up and bent around him, squeezing tight.

“Wanna bet?” Alloy asked. “I think I heard you threatening my sister. Me and the boys don’t like that.”

“I don’t like it either.” Zero said, chilling the air around the villain. “I like having Spark around.”

“And you know what I’ve got to say about it.” Spark said, taking a wrench ‘borrowed’ from Tink’s work table earlier from her pocket. “My paper clips are rust, but I bet this’ll boom big.”

Occult began her spell. “Heavenly light the pierces the sky and cloud…”

“You can’t stop me. I’ve waited hundreds of years in a damned tree for this!” Warpstar’s claws began to rend the grasping metal.

“That shines upon all life. Shine now in the eyes of mine enemy…” Occult continued. A nimbus of light formed around her, pierced through by a shaft of light from above.

Spark loosed her lightning. Warpstar dodged it, slithering toward Facsimile with one clawed hand outstretched.

“Shine…” The nimbus resolved into a bow of blazing light in Occult’s hands, an arrow of the same already nocked.

Warpstar’s other hand snapped out and hit Facsimile squarely in the chest as his other finally clutched the book. The prize was his.

“Heavenly Arrow!” A column of pure white extended from the bow and into Warpstar, running him through and continuing off into the distance beyond with perfect straightness. It left no wound, but one of the yellow stones went dim.

In the silence that followed, Warpstar sneered. “I’ve still got my immortality power. You missed.” He opened the book to the exact page he needed. “And you won’t get another shot. Power beyond the stars,” A red miasma issued form the book to surround him. “Heed my… my—what is this?” He faltered and dropped the book, his body reverting to normal.

“I didn’t miss.” Occult said. “But you’ll note that you still have your metal powers too. For the moment.”

Fear filled Warpstar’s eyes as the red energy grew more intense. “That means. Auggie’s essence.. No!”

“You should have done more homework; the Book of Passions doesn’t like being tricked. It’s punishing you.” Occult said.

Whatever reply Warpstar intended to make, it was lost and the red energies closed in and both they and he faded away.

“Whoa.” Spark said, excitedly, “Is he dead? We’re not supposed to, you know…”

“No.” Occult said, letting the bow of light disappear. “Death is simple. Magic hates simple. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“I really wasn’t kidding about being tired and hungry.” Facsimile groaned from the ground. “Any chance we can ‘port by a Burger Builders on the way home?”

Zero helped her up and gave her the odd little smile that was impossible to read. “You look like you need another dozen donuts.” She chirped.

“You know, that doesn’t sound like a half bad idea to end this otherwise crap day.” Occult said, “How about we go in costume and give the locals a story?”

Kareem never slept very deeply. Since he was a child, even after staying up all hours and finally being forced to go to bed, even the slightest noise nearby could rouse him to waking. His father thought it had something to do with his psychic awareness. Kareem was starting to agree now that his awareness was expanding.

What woke him up this time was someone standing in the doorway.

“Oh good.” Cyn said, seeing his eyes open. “I was worried you’d put yourself in another coma after that bit with Occult earlier. Didn’t I tell you to stay here and rest, not go and possess witches for fun?”

She took a donut from the bag in her hand and offered it. When he declined, she crammed it into her mouth ravenously.

“I’m sorry, Cyn, but I couldn’t just sit here when even Warrick’s sister was fighting.” He made an effort to sit up, but was far too sore and weak to. “You all are like family to me.”

“Just don’t, you know, save our lives again or I’ll get really mad at you.” Cyn grinned.

“I’ll try to leave you in peril next time.” Kareem promised.

“Good man.” Cyn said, turning to go. “Oh, almost forgot…”

“Hmm?”

“Welcome to Freeland House, Material Plane chapter.” She left him to his rest.

“Sorry that took so long.” Lisa said as she came over to the table where JC and Kay were playing chess in the Dungeon. Kay was sporting white hair for the proximity to labor day. “Cyn really needed to talk, you know how it is. I bought donuts though.”

“No problem.” JC said, taking Kay’s queen with a pawn. “You’re a good friend and that’s what makes you such a good girlfriend, right?” He got a kiss for the correct answer. “Oh, sweet, Donut Boy donuts, small world, huh?”

Lisa raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“The guys over there playing Earth Delvers?” Kay pointed to a knot of college aged boys at the networked computers that made up the ‘cyber’ part of the Dungeon’s cyber-café. “One of their brothers works at the Donut Boy by the park.” She gave Lisa a knowing wink that JC missed. “Apparently, the Descendants and Occult came in and ordered donuts like half an hour ago.”

“You don’t say?” Lisa asked, taking a seat. With practiced calm, she took out a raspberry crème for herself and bit into it.

“Yeah,” JC said, “Mayfield’s getting to be like New York or Chicago; prelates just hanging around like normal people.”

“Well, I’m sure they are normal people out of costume.” Lisa pointed out.

“Nah. Can you imagine having powers like that? No way would you pass up a chance to show that off.”

“I’m sure they have their reasons.” Kay said. “I mean otherwise, they’d just be regular psionics and stuff, right?”

“Possibly.” JC shrugged, “That must blow, having cool powers, but not getting to play with them all the time like all the other psionics?”

“I’m sure it has its ups and downs.” Lisa shrugged, leaning back and just savoring her time with her best friend and her boyfriend. This was definitely an ‘up’. She would worry about the Book of Passions and Augustus another day.

The sound of a body hitting the ice was barely audible over the punishing winds. Biting cold gnawed at bared skin and quickly bypassed the few remaining shreds of his clothes as well.

There was a cacophony of squawking and Warpstar looked up to see dozens upon dozens of emperor penguins gathering around to marvel at the curiosity that had landed between them and their hunting ground of the sea.

He didn’t know much about where he was, but he did know that he was now a very long distance from any of The 4.

The books would have to wait. He couldn’t do anything about them if he was frozen to death in the Antarctic. He looked down and checked. Yes, the stone was still functioning; only Augustus’s essence had been taken. Good. First order of business then, was survival.

A stone encrusted hand reached toward one of the penguins. The animal didn’t have any fear of man; it merely accepted the touch. “Combine to the power of a Warped Star.”

End Issue #31