With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
06:59 GMT -5

Mitchell frowns at the computer screen. "The Joker had a… Tribute act?"

Richard looks at him over the top of his own screen. "A few people got affected by Smilex but didn't die. It still messed with their heads-."

"No, I mean-."

"Jarvis, yeah."

I feel a brief moment of embarrassment on behalf of my former country. Mitchell looks puzzled by my reaction.

"Do you know him?"

"No. Ah. " I try to make eye contact with Richard, but he's returned his attention to his monitor. "The Joker wasn't always focused on mass murder. Some of his earliest crimes… Were just normal crimes in costumes, and some of the ones after that were… They were things a normal person could almost find funny. The reason he could keep making insanity pleas is.. that.. Smilex makes it so the person affected by it is constantly driven to do more. There's never a point where they're.. comfortable at a… The cut-off point between 'exciting' and 'terrifying' isn't there any more. The more feedback they get, the more fun they have. The Joker escalated."

"You mean he was a fan on the Joker original work?"

"As I understand it, he… He didn't read the full article and just thought improvisational theatre clown in a purple suit was a pretty natty idea."

Kon looks up in surprise. "Seriously?"

"Ah… I'm getting that second hand, but-" I nod. "-more or less. He changed his makeup and outfit a bit when the Joker switched from 'comedy-themed crimes' to 'mass murder with occasional weak comedy reference'."

Richard gives me a small smile. "Can I tell him you said that?"

"If it ever becomes relevant I'd rather that you put a bullet in him."

"I'm.. not doing that."

"Robin, you've seen the same Smilex research that I have. He's not ever going to recover. He isn't ever going to stop. He won't respond to therapy in a meaningful way."

"What would a healing potion do to him?"

Ah…

Smilex exposure after that amount of time… In the brain…

Um…

"I don't think it would do a lot, but I can't be sure without some actual… Tests. The human body… And the potion, probably wouldn't react to the changes Smilex made to the brain as 'damage', not unless you dosed them with it immediately after their exposure. But I'm not an expert alchemist by any means and it's not beyond the realm of possibility that there might be some sort of super healing potion that we might learn to make in future that could work on cases like his."

"Then that's why."

"Do you really think that Jack Napier would want to come back at this point, remembering everything that the Joker's done? Heck, even if I did repair his brain, do you think that there's anything of Mister Napier left? We'd.. probably just get a slightly less extreme Joker."

"Er…"

We both turn to Mitchell, who's looking a little awkward.

"So… Not a good choice for a yellow power ring?"

"He is pretty good at judging the degree of fear he creates, but I don't think he's really…"

"Could we try him out?"

"If no one's got any better ideas?"

"What about Melinoë?"

"Maybe, but… There are three ways into Erebos. We can't get to the Themyscira gate with the island vanished, I don't want to risk dying at the moment to enter as a shade and I don't fancy our chances at finding a way in through the Dream."

M'gann's eyes glow for a moment. "You said the Omega Effect turned your construct into Colin Thornton. Do you think he knows any demons who could work?"

"Even if he does, he won't tell me. And…"

Could Mammon find someone? Probably, but they'd be dead. I don't know whether or not dead people can use power rings, but if we're invoking the white light it's probably best not to risk it. And a demon… No.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

She nods, going back to her screen. And now I'm thinking about Mr. Siskin again.

"Is Zauriel in the Tower of Fate?"

Richard shakes his head. "He's somewhere in South America right now. Mister Atom wanted to see if him being around people could stop the Anti-Life taking them over. There aren't as many broadcasters down there as there are in the US."

"Okay." I step back from the desks and generate a phone box construct around myself. I hesitate for a moment, then pick up the handset. We're in roughly the same time zone and as far as I know he doesn't sleep. "Orange Lantern to Zauriel."

A moment of delay, then-.

"Zauriel here. I am seated. You may begin."

"Can you tell me whether or not a particular person's soul went to Heaven?"

"It may be that I can do so. Whom do you wish to enquire after?"

"Michael Siskin. He died about a year and a half ago. Killed by Nabu."

"Was he a religious man?"

"I don't think so."

"Was he a good man?"

I've had ample opportunity to review his service record. He was a reasonably well disciplined soldier who was recruited to the dark side for his psychic abilities rather than any ideological inclination. What happened after that was a slippery slope I can all too easily understand. I didn't ask if he regretted it afterwards. I know that karma isn't a Christian concept; you can't pay off your sins and get into Heaven that way. So…

"He did me a solid."

"I fear that is not the recommendation that you want it to be."

"I didn't know him well enough to say. If you want my best answer, it would be that he was a reasonably moral man pressed into extreme circumstances." Hm. "Honestly, if he went to Hell that would be perfectly fine for my purposes-."

"Please, Orange Lantern, do not say things of that nature."

"Sorry. But we're trying to save the world here."

"I cannot check the lists of those permitted entry. If he is in purgatory and on the path to the City, I may not know it. But to my knowledge he has neither entered Heaven nor Hell."

"Thank you."

I go to-.

"Orange Lantern. It concerns me that even though you accept that this man Michael Siskin 'did you a solid', it is only now that you enquire after his soul."

"A lot of people have died, Zauriel. At the time I couldn't have done anything about it. You weren't on Earth. And if I had then I'd have run into the 'Mind of God', wouldn't I?"

"That is true. But please, consider your mindfulness during this conflict."

"Alright. I will. Thank you for the information. Goodbye."

"God be with you, Orange Lantern."

I dismiss the phone booth, shaking my head as the others look my way.

"He didn't know. Let's keep looking."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd Sigmarzeit 2512
Early Morning

The herald hesitates slightly as we reach the door to what appears to be a small dining room, then nods to the footmen manning the doors. The one on the left knocks sharply, then they grasp the handles and open the door. The herald marches in, straight-backed, and steps aside to half turn and face the doorway.

"Announcing Sir Paolo, Knight of the Orange Lantern."

I walk in behind him,-. Oh, for-.

I make eye contact with His Majesty Karl Franz I Holswig-Schliestein, and no one else because the only other occupants of the room are a couple of servants serving as waiters and the looming figures of his Reiksguard bodyguard up against the back wall. He smiles faintly and gives his eyes a small roll.

Well, at least he gets it.

I approach to what I judge to be a reasonable distance and then bow at the waist.

"Your Majesty."

"Rise, Sir Paolo." A small nod and the herald backs out of the room and the footmen close the doors behind him. The Emperor then motions to the seat a short way down the table from his own seat. "Please, join me."

"Thank you, your majesty."

I walk over to the-.

A servant pulls the chair out for me.

O… Kay..? I… Sit down, braced, but apparently we're allowed to organise our own napkins.

The Emperor's smile broadens. "Not the arrangement you have in your lands in Bretonnia?"

"Even with the recent expansion, it's not even a town yet. We don't have the people for me to have an arrangement like this, and using glowing daemons made people uncomfortable."

"And the beastwomen aren't house trained?"

"No, they… Are, with just a few false starts, but they kept making it a competition to serve whoever's in charge, and… It didn't work. And Hierarch Mael of the Cult of Taal isn't keen on the whole 'living inside buildings' thing and I'm trying to avoid having more gods angry with me."

He nods. "A sound avenue to take."

"Forgive me for asking, your majesty, but why am I.. here?"

He offers me a rueful smile. "It isn't usual for notable individuals such as yourself to give reports in open court. Once they've demonstrated a certain level of reliability and trustworthiness, I generally prefer a more informal environment."

I look around at the four plate-armoured knights and eight servants of other types, and the large oil paintings and wall hangings which decorate the walls. And then up at the currently unlit chandelier, and the frieze decorating the ceiling just beyond it.

He follows my gaze for a moment, then smiles again.

"Well. I am the Emperor."

"Can't argue with that. What did you want to hear about?"

"How are things going with the canal?"

"It is now sailable, so long as you only want to sail something the size of a punt."

"Already?"

I shrug. "The workforce is large and made up of skeletons and animated statues. They don't need rest, food or water. The real bottleneck was getting enough intelligent undead to coordinate them. Queen Khalida has dealt with that by making alliances with other Tomb Kings along the route, though that… Ah, leaves open the possibility that they may become 'confused' and do something regrettable later, but... We.. judged the extra speed was worth the risk."

"Have the elves raised any objection?"

Which is a diplomatic way of saying 'arrowed everyone to death'.

"No, but I'm not sure that they know about it. It's not easy to send spies into a lifeless desert, and there aren't really any merchants in Nehekharan cities to disguise the presence of nosy people."

"That will change."

"Yes, but it's not an especially popular posting, Ulthuan doesn't have the resources that would be required to invade and occupy the whole of Nehekhara to stop it, and… Quite a lot of Ulthuanian princes and princesses owe me for their newly conceived heirs. Not enough to actually thank me, but probably enough to abstain on a vote. Even if the garrison commander of the Fortress of Dawn would like to take aggressive action, they're not going to get any support."

"And on the other end?"

"The Pirate Princess didn't take the deal. I'm afraid that extreme measures will most likely be necessary."

"Assassination?"

"Throwing the island into an ocean trench. The only issue is that I'm not sure what that will do to the currents around the Tilean coast." I shake my head. "While it might be possible to put a lot of the sailors into service in more legitimate roles, I'm not happy about the… Easy transition between armed merchantmen and outright pirates. I've provisionally marked a few months in my diary after the expected completion date of the canal for eliminating all pirates in the region who attack ships using it, but frankly pre-empting it by destroying the island and everyone on it would probably be more efficient."

He shakes his head. "Scour the island if you must -the navy's pressgangs will have to look elsewhere for their men- but do not… 'Throw the island into an ocean trench'."

"As you command." I nod. "Prince Lorenzo might want to take possession of it as a naval dock once the current inhabitants have been culled. And there's little point in building the canal if I end up wrecking all the harbours on this side."

"And what will you do next? Concentrate on the road network?"

"No, after that comes the next stage of canal building: the Estalia bypass."

He hesitates, his eyes briefly moving aside as he considers my meaning. "A canal through the Irrana Mountains? It would save weeks of sailing at the very least, and avoid exposure to the storms coming off the Great Ocean. But the Black Marshes have their own inhabitants that may threaten your work."

"Yeah, Skavenblight. I'll probably end up destroying that. Depending on its elevation I might flood it, otherwise it'll be orbital bombardment. I'll need to speak with Princess Dolchellata of Miragliano before work starts, though given all the extra trade they'd be getting if I'm successful I doubt that she'll complain."

"That would be the diplomatic approach." He frowns faintly. "I believe that the Princess is widowed?"

I nod. "Yes. The late Prince Borgio died nine years ago, and she's ruling as their son's regent. I assume that her control is sufficiently good that she doesn't feel the need for an internal marriage, and that her city's position is secure enough that she hasn't made a marriage alliance."

Or more likely, no one felt like braving the wrath of her four-times-widowed sister.

"Anyway, once that's done I can focus on the roads. High Loremaster Teclis threatened to ask his brother to check my working on the logistics, and, um. I'd rather that didn't happen."

"Yes, I've met Prince Tyrion and I can well understand your reservation." He looks away for a moment, thinking about something. "I know that you've been travelling, but have you been able to keep up with news of the Empire?"

I shake my head. "Not really. I check for major invasions every few days but things looked relatively quiet. Is there a problem?"

"Some minor skirmishes between Ostland and Talabecland. I fear that I'm going to have to intervene before things escalate."

I nod. "Well, if you need my assistance with anything, I'm happy to help."

"I may. Tell me, Sir Paolo, you know of Princess Dolchellata's family but I know nothing of your own familial status. May we discuss the matter?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd Sigmarzeit 2512
Early Morning

"Yes, I… Mostly try to keep busy so that I don't think about them."

But he's not talking about my family back on Earth. My eyes light up as I look around, staring through the walls and looking for-.

Ah.

"My sister had just gotten married. My father was approaching retirement… He taught biology in college, and-" I smile faintly "-you can get some pretty odd fixations growing up with a biology teacher for a father."

"I thought that the air smelled a little less pungent around you. I take it you were lectured extensively on the danger of bad airs?"

It's been a while since I read Genevieve Undead, but I seem to remember Karl-Franz's heir being his son. I don't specifically remember whether it was mentioned that Karl-Franz was married or not. Turns out that he isn't, but he's in a long term relationship with a woman with whom he's had two illegitimate children. I don't really know what's going on there. I mean, she lives in the palace, no one's going to take the idea that he's still on the marriage market seriously. His actual heir is his sister Isabella's son, Wolfgang Holswig-Abenauer.

Of course, he's hardly her only child.

"Really, the smell is more of a side-effect of the actual source of danger than a threat to health itself. I've hired a team of dwarf engineers to try and build a sewage system in my village, but it's actually quite hard that close to the sea."

Karl-Franz nods. "Townsmen here pay night soil collectors." He chuckles. "When they don't just chuck their chamber pots into the streets."

I wince.

"You have something better in your homeland?"

"After the late Queen Victoria's husband died of typhoid fever, she sponsored some major efforts in improving sanitation across the country. The dwarfs know far more about building underground tunnels than me, but they actually hadn't considered the U-bend or the flush. Please; once my village is finished, come and have a look at it. I'm trying to turn it into a model that other places can replicate, and… If you like it, I'd be happy to re-plumb this whole palace for you."

"Hah! That's the strangest bribe anyone's ever offered me. I see what you mean about your father. But… Your parents. Did they have a marriage arranged for you? I assume that your sister is your senior."

"No, two years younger. And no, we don't really do it like that. I mean, we used to, but these days even amongst the peerage, young people are mostly left to organise things themselves."

"And had you?"

The distraction didn't work. Not surprising given that his niece is in the next room. No idea why he's trying to match her with.. me.

"No. Which turns out to have been a sound judgement, given that I'm here. I hate to think that I could have been forced to abandon a wife or children."

One of the things that I keep missing is the low speed of information transfer on this planet. I see newspapers and I assume that I'm on a world that has the telegraph at least. But it's not. He doesn't know that I have a lover, or that I'm… I've got some sort of understanding with Queen Khalida. Why would he? I haven't told anyone in Altdorf, or spent significant time with either anywhere where someone reporting to him could spy on them. He only knows about the beastwomen because I had to get him to sign off on the Amber College assisting me.

There has just about been enough time for a ship to sail from Cathay with news about the diggings on the east coast of Nehekhara, so he might have confirmation about that. He had the report from High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer and multiple reports about the various daemons I've hunted down. So he knows that I'm capable from people whose word he trusts. But I have no significant connections. Raw power is all I bring to the table, and I've made it clear that I'll bring that anyway. The Old World road network is my second highest priority.

So.. he.. wants a threat? Bound to him by marriage? Does he not understand how little I want to rule places? If that was what I wanted I'd have gone to the Border Princes, not stayed in a small Bretonnian village.

"Sir Paolo? Are you well?"

"Ah, sorry." I shake my head. "I was just trying to work out why your niece is in the next room." A slight reaction from him, more curiosity than concern. "I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

He turns his head and nods at a servant, who bows and leaves the room in her direction.

"I wanted to introduce you over breakfast."

"With a view to..?"

"I have ambassadors in the courts of each of the Elector Counts. It is seldom possible to gather more than a few of us in any one place, so virtually all of our communications happen indirectly. You may be able to fly to any of our capitals when you like, but we cannot similarly contact you. Usually my ambassadors are distant cousins, but given your significance and the lack of existing ties, I felt that someone a little closer would be more appropriate."

"So she would be your ambassador to my little village?"

"The village is incidental; I want to be certain that I can reach the man who can face Greater Daemons in the field and vanquish them."

"Alright. Actually, I was thinking that a big get-together of rulers might be a good idea. Considering that the roads will be going through the territories of multiple countries."

"I think that you make for an excellent envoy. What could be accomplished by meeting directly that could not be achieved with a sealed letter?"

"That's fine for King Thorgrim and King Louen, but… I was thinking of spreading things a little more widely. You know that I am on good terms with Queen Khalida."

"An Undead."

"That's the point. Nehekharan rulers think of the Empire as it was in Sigmar's time. They don't really understand the improvements in magic, in artifice or in industry that your people have made. Entertaining her in person could change that as well as establishing a personal rapport."

"And who else?"

"Ah… King Erik Redaxe."

The Emperor sits up slightly. "He still lives? I heard the tale of how he traded the Duke of Marienburg to my great grandfather when I was a boy."

"He's not a young man any longer, but he still rules the land north of Kislev. Still favours the aesir over the Chaos Gods."

"He raided Ulthuan. The elves don't like you enough to forget that."

"I'm not asking them to like him. Just… Understand that it's in their interests to negotiate for him to unleash his reavers against the Dark Elves instead of them, or to hire them to fight orcs rather than fight them and the orcs." I shrug. "Heck, he may not even want to come. I didn't want to bother asking him if even you weren't prepared to talk to him."

"If he and Boris Bokha are in the same room, one of them will not leave it alive."

"It would need to be handled delicately."

"Delicately." He exhales. "I though you were against piracy."

"I am. But if he agrees to limit his peoples' actions in exchange for mercenary contracts, they won't be pirates any longer. If he doesn't, then he's had his chance. I could even explain the concept of shipping insurance to him."

"I think-."

The door opens, and a well-but-not-ostentatiously dressed young woman walks in, followed close behind by servants bearing trays of breakfast foods. Fruit, fresh rolls, bacon and sausages. Karl Franz stands, and I do as well.

"Sir Paolo, my niece, the lady Richilde Holswig-Abenauer."

I bow my head. "A pleasure to meet you, I'm sure."

She smiles-. I don't know. Maybe I've been spoiled between a elf and a woman with a custom-crafted face blessed by a goddess, but honestly? She looks kind of plain. Slightly short, shoulder length hair brown and straight… The only things that draws my attention is her genuine curiosity about me.

She curtsies. "Good morning, Sir Paolo." A servant pulls out her seat and she sits, prompting the Emperor and I to do so as well. "Uncle Karl has been telling me about your plans for a road network. Tell me, how do you intend to maintain it once it is built?"

I take a draft plan out of subspace and put it down next to my plate.

"A combination of road tolls and magic drawn from the network. In Tilea, it was the responsibility of the military to build and maintain roads, and I think…"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
08:23 GMT -5

Ned Bucksted the xeno-computation specialist shakes his head, the yellow ring awkwardly sitting on his right ring finger almost entirely dull. "I don't get it."

Richard waves a computer pad at the first crate. "We need to get a baseline for what someone normal can get the ring to do. Once we know that, we can work out how important it is for the user to have an instinct for it."

Mr. Bucksted points his right hand at the crate and.. waves his hand away as if he thinks that the motion itself is enough. "Ah, is there a button..?"

"No. You have to focus your mind on either causing fear, or how what you're doing relates to something that you're afraid of."

"It's a.. box, though."

I attach a filament to the box and yank, causing it to fly past his face with about two millimetres clearance.

"Y-ah!"

That made his environmental shield flare, but that's about it.

Richard doesn't look impressed.

"Did you feel what that was like?"

"Ah…" He looks down at his glowing body… As the glow fades. "I think so. God, that's weird. Do you do that every time?"

"At this point it's second nature for me."

"Okay, I got this."

A weak yellow glow surrounds a crate. He raises his right hand, but all the crate does is wobble slightly. And then he concentrates and the glow vanishes completely.

"This is surprisingly difficult. I-I gotta say, as an engineer, I'm not keen on technology that needs you to feel the right thing. That sort of thing's dangerous to the user."

"Usually we select people who have a natural inclination or learned ability in the field. The problem with fear is that there aren't a lot of people with that way of thinking that we could actually trust with it."

"I always found Mister Luthor pretty intimidating."

"Yes, but unless I very much miss my guess, you've been working for LexCorp on the sort of project where people who make mistakes or talk to the wrong people 'have an accident'."

"That-. No, that's-."

"Don't worry about it. Under the circumstances, I'm happy people like you exist. Goodness knows we need your expertise."

"Ah, okay, but I don't work anywhere like that."

"So places like that do exist, you just happen not to work there?" The ring glows a little brighter. "But if you could make it work, think about all the jobs Mister Luthor could have for you to do. Acquiring examples of alien technology? Decoding alien manuals and computer code? Performing repairs on components in storage? I dare say that with abilities like that, you'd be too valuable to ever let go of."

His environmental shield glows again and the crate hits the ceiling before crashing back down.

I smile. "Okay, well, we'll write it up as 'unable to maintain focus', shall-"

He's already taking the ring off his finger and handing it back to Richard.

"-we?"

"I need-. I need to-" He keeps watching me and he sidles towards the door. "-get back to work."

"Thank you for your time."

Richard waits for the door to close, staring at the ring in his hand.

"Was Lex keeping him prisoner?"

"No, but I imagine there were some fairly hefty golden handcuffs." He frowns questioningly. "Come on, there aren't that many alien computer systems on Earth, and governments claim most of them. Lex probably has to source his materials creatively. Either illegally or using off-world contacts. That man would have to know the relevant laws, but he works there anyway."

"Is that just a deduction, or have you actually been tracking them?"

"Deduction. But not exactly a difficult one. You want to have a go with that?"

"No." He shakes his head. "I never really got into the 'fear' part of Batman's training."

"He.. told me about his change of heart." I sigh. "He'd have been perfect for this."

"Sorry I got Anti-Lifed. I'll be sure to complain to Mannheim."

"Not what I meant. I just-. I was sort of hoping he'd be okay falling off the wagon for a day. Really…" I shake my head.

"No, I think this had been coming for a while."

"Since he married Talia? Because that wasn't the direction I thought she'd push him in."

"Since he adopted me. He couldn't be all doom and gloom the whole time in case it rubbed off on me."

"You were something to live for outside of the crusade."

"That's a…" He frowns. "Bit… Dark, but… Maybe?"

"And he wants to be there for you and any children he and Talia have in a way that his parents couldn't be for him. And that's all part of it so there's no chance of him going back."

He squints at me. "I think I should be offended, but I'm not sure which part I should be offended by."

"That Batman loves you more than fighting crime? I'd take it as a compliment."

"But he can't use the ring."

"Which would you prefer?"

He nods. "But we still need someone who can use the ring."

"What did you think about using Power Ring?"

"He's a supervillain who rules a world, Oh El. I don't want to give him more power. Or trust him. You sure there's not another way to get into Erebos? Didn't you send souls from your planet Lantern to Hades?"

"There's a shrine, but that just helps the souls of the dead enter Erebos. Souls naturally gravitate to an afterlife. Stopping them passing on is hard. So if I called Lantern Mother of Mercy back here and someone wanted to commit suicide-. And it would have to be me, because everyone else would be stuck at the back of the queue, then we could get a message in that way."

"So, no. How about..? Getting in through another afterlife?"

"Ah… Maybe? I…" I frown. "Hades did say that they had treaties with most other afterlives concerning necromancy… Why, do you have a way to get into another afterlife?"

"No. But Cornwall Boy does."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
13:42 GMT

Robert points to the Anti-Life broadcaster currently sitting in the middle of Stonehenge.

"There. One like it in just about every bloody one. Like the magic's drained right out of the place."

Richard frowns. "Permanently?"

"Bloody hope not." Robert shakes his head. "Shouldn't be, but anyone trying'na use magic in Britain right now's in fer a nasty shock."

"Opposition?"

"Dunno, mate. Most of the top level superheroes in Britain work for the government." He shakes his head. "Worked. A lot of the rest joined the Alliance, 'cos… Why not? They got helmets. Most of the villains got Anti-Lifed, but I haven't seen any they bothered helmetting. First Eleven are basically running the country right now and Stone Cold Luke's…" He tenses and relaxes his right arm. "He's been hunting down everyone who's still fighting. Killed seven that I know about, and my arm still isn't right."

I raise my left hand towards it and raise my eyebrows. He nods, and I connect a filament to it. There's… Some sort of poison in there, and it looks like it's resisting Robert's magic-based regeneration. I remove it and send it to subspace for future utilisation.

Richard nods. "And what happened to the government team?"

"For the first month or so they were smashing everything Mannheim sent. Then they all disappeared. Dunno if they're dead or what. They didn't try and coordinate with the rest of us."

"Do they use boom tubes?"

He shakes his head. "Not that I've heard. But they can teleport like me an' Dad do."

I nod. "Corrupt the ley lines with Anti-Life, then they can use them. Cornwall, do you have any access to Otherworld?"

"No, mate." He shakes his head. "Sorry." He sighs. "An' I could really use Great Granddad's advice."

"How about the standing stones that were sabotaged?"

"Most o' them are still there, but so what? We can't use them."

"They're on ley lines, right?"

"Yeah? But-."

"But it's the stones that were sabotaged, right? The ley lines under them aren't affected."

"So we..? Just replace them?" He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. "It won't work quick, then you've got the whole system full of Anti-Life tryin'na stop it."

"How about an island?"

He looks away, exhaling slowly.

"Maybe. I.. dunno. Never went into that part of the theory."

"Okay, we can-." Hm. It's a long shot, but… "Have you heard of a hippy commune in Scotland called Pagan Nation?"

"No. What about them?"

"One of the people there is a powerful magician. Almost no training, but it would be interesting to see how she fared. If anyone could link up a stone circle-."

Except she said that stone circles were an attempt by the ancient patriarchy to bind the land's natural forces and generally gave me the impression that she'd like to get rid of them.

"She could do it. Whether she actually would or not…"

Richard frowns over his binoculars. "What happens if we just blow them all up?"

"Y'mean, the broadcasters, or the circles?"

"Broadcasters. Unless it helps."

"That shuts it down for a few days until they fix them all. The Anti-Life's already in the system. Might… Fade away eventually if they stop reinforcing it, but it doesn't happen quick enough. Blowing up the whole circle… Dunno. Nothing stopping them using ley lines anywhere, but they've built them in live stone circles for a reason, haven't they?"

"I'd rather not blow up Stonehenge."

"And I'd rather you didn't paint the Statue of Liberty brown, but we kinda need to save the world here Oh El."

"That wasn't-. It was a patina."

Oh, he clearly knew that.

Okay, I have atom-perfect scans of Stonehenge. I can just recreate it. I still think that it would lose something…

"I think it would be best to leave them intact. If we can."

Richard lowers his binoculars. "You been to this 'Pagan Nation' place before?"

"Yes. Just before the mission to Minions. The magician didn't like me because she was used to knowing everything about her immediate environment and my tattoos prevented that. But it's so out of the way that I doubt that Mannheim would have focused on it, and she's the sort of magician who'd be good at concealing their existence completely."

"So we go there, ask her about it, make a new opening and then call in the team."

Robert and I nod.

"And then what?"

"Then, hopefully, we'll be able to access Erebos, or at least be able to get a message to them. Melinoë is perfectly capable of accessing the material world under her own power, so we won't need to open a larger hole."

"Can she use a power ring?"

"I.. don't know for sure. The Green Lantern Corps has had exotic members before, but I… Can't immediately call to mind any gods who joined. But if she can't, she should be able to recommend someone. She's the Goddess of Nightmares and Madness, after all."

"And what happens if the Anti-Life is in Otherworld?"

"Depends how it manifests. Destroy it, ideally. Avoid it and complete our mission if we can't."

"And our line of retreat?"

"Our standing stone. Failing that… The Atlanteans working for the Orange Lantern Corps came up with a way for me to drag things through the Honden without driving them mad. Zatanna, Tula and Garth could probably replicate it."

"Okay. Cornwall?"

"I.. dunno?" He shrugs. "I've only gone into Otherworld a few times. I didn't even know there was a way into other places from there. We'll need Great-Granddad to show us around."

I nod. "Right then. Off to Pagan Nation."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
09:53 GMT -5

"Nrut s'miehnnaM ezag yawa."

A distortion briefly ripples in the air around us, and Zatanna wilts slightly as the effect peters out.

"That's the best I can do. He's so…" She shakes her head. "Everywhere that it's like I'm trying to help you hide from everything."

"Are you alright?"

She shrugs limply. "As long as Mercury doesn't want a magic show."

"I think she might actually quite like a sleight of hand performance. She'd immediately see how you did it, but I think she'd find it interesting enough to be entertained." I take a closer look. That's not eye shadow, and those stress hormones-. "Are you okay?"

She shakes her head, brushing her hair out of her face with her right hand. "I've been getting some sort of feedback when I use my magic. I can cope, but I'm… I'm not exactly at my best right now. Uh."

Richard steps in to support her as she staggers, and she smiles gratefully as she lowers herself into a chair.

"Do you need to be with the field team for it to work?"

She shakes her head. "No. You should be… Fine. I'm just going to.. sit here for a while."

I nod, then connect to the ship's internal communication system. "Mister Standing Bear, please report to the briefing room."

Richard considers that for a moment, then gives me a very small nod. Tuppence, Mahkent, Abra and Eiling are back on the Tower of Fate roster, and without me being here I'm not willing to leave Zatanna alone on a ship crewed by LexCorp employees. I don't think they'd do anything overt, but Lex is perfectly capable of subtlety.

"Okay, team composition. I-."

Richard shrugs. "Everyone who's available is here, Oh El. Unless you can call on someone from N.E.M.O., this is it."

"Do you think I should?"

"Is there a reason not to?"

"We're from a magic-rich world. My best guess is that that makes us more resistant to the Anti-Life. There are a… Couple of N.E.M.O. affiliated worlds that are thaumically active-"

Zatanna sort of slumps in her seat. I give her another scan, but as far as I can tell it's just tiredness.

"-but they are far less so than Earth. Grayven's started taking shots at our ships, so I can't ask for a whole fleet because they're either engaged or in reserve to respond to attacks, and Finality Man could probably destroy our ships with a bit of effort anyway. And…"

I give him an awkward look, and he nods.

"We're not part of N.E.M.O. and you can't risk this spreading. But if you're fighting Grayven, aren't you already fighting Apokolips?"

"Not as far as we can tell. One Apokoliptian ship and only one other Apokoliptian New God. We think he went after New Chronus to get people who could operate New God technology. If Darkseid was actually making an effort, he could easily supply him with officers."

"I guess that makes sense. But-."

The door opens and Mr Standing Bear walks in, helmet on head.

"We're heading down to Earth. Please look after Miss Zatara while we're gone."

He nods, approaching her chair and standing by it protectively with his arms folded.

"Thank you. Orange Lantern to squad, prepare for teleportation."

The ring shows me M'gann, Kon and Mitchell shutting down their terminals and then adopting the Star Trek transporter pose, which is slightly amusing. Down on Earth, Robert just steps back into concealment from the Mannheim-affiliates guarding Stonehenge.

"Two, one."

I trigger the teleportation system, and in a flash of light the ship disappears and is replaced by the backwaters of Scotland.

17th February 2013
14:56 GMT

Nothing much has changed since last time I was here. I even recognise the trees and the sign along the track leading to the hamlet. And I can just about see the aura Zatanna covered us with in a slight ripple as I look up at the stars.

Robert exhales. "Cor. Feels a lot lighter out here, doesn't it?"

Richard nods. "We're a lot further from any broadcasters."

M'gann looks unconvinced. "I…" Her eyes glow and she reaches out her right hand towards the settlement. "I think they're…"

I erect a telepath baffle at once.

"Huh? What?" She jerks her head around to look at me. "Why-?"

"Because they don't know that we're not with Mannheim, but Mercury could probably feel you doing that. And while she probably can't just blast us, she can do a whole lot of-"

A bird takes off from a nearby tree, calling out in alarm.

"-unpleasant things-"

My faceplate is covered in bird poo.

"-to us."

There are some… Choked coughs from my colleagues, who are probably being affected by some sort of asphyxiation weapon.

I clean the bird poo off with a construct.

"Cornwall, how well known are you?"

"Do they have T.V.?"

"I don't think so."

"Radio?"

"That's a bit more likely."

He thinks, then shakes his head. "Doubt they've heard of me."

"I guess I'm taking the diplomatic-"

Another bird uses me for target practice.

"-lead, then. Mercury, this is really petty."

Or it could be a genuine attempt to blind attackers. I send probes into the and that's a pit trap.

I create a construct bridge over it and start walking.

"They've prepared low-tech defences. No sudden movements, and keep your hands visible."

Mitchell frowns. "Would it be better to wait here? Then they could talk to us when they're ready."

"No. They're industrious but not very sensible. The more time that we're not talking to them directly, the more time they've got to do something stupid. I'm just hoping that Mercury doesn't do something stupid anyway."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:01 GMT

Why are they only hitting me?

…

There's an apocalypse on. The bird poo is annoying not because it impairs me but because of how incredibly petty it is. She clearly knows about what's going on in the world outside her little primitivist pocket paradise, but she's taking time out of her busy hiding schedule to literally shit on me.

We're approaching the wooden buildings that make up the hamlet, having walked through the non-marijuana crop fields. To be fair, in a place like this I could honestly believe that they were growing it for hemp rope-making, and a few Class B drugs never hurt anyone.

"Mercury, I know you know we're here. We're trying to save the world and we need your help. The faster you help us, the faster we're gone, and the faster things go back to normal."

No response.

Kon nods at the door of the dining hall. "I could knock?"

"No, because if Mercury's not here they might be hiding in there and then they'll panic. She either knows that we're here or…" I frown. "Cornwall, I don't suppose you've seen a young woman around the Anti-Life broadcasters, have you?"

"A few? What, you think they got her?"

"I'm aware that it's a possibility. She isn't a battle wizard, she's self-taught. She can't defeat a horde in the way that someone who can conjure elements can."

Richard looks around. "There aren't any signs of a fight, Oh El."

Mitchell frowns. "I can't hear anyone. I should be able to hear if there was anyone here. Are you.. sure-?"

Kon shakes his head. "Kryptonians and magic don't mix. If Mercury's got a spell to stop people hearing or to stop sound moving, it'll work just as well on us as on a human."

Mitchell frowns in frustration, and Kon smiles companionably.

"Yeah, it's annoying, but we're not unbeatable."

His brother shrugs. "I know, but I'd gotten used to being able to hear everything. It's weird when I can't do it."

M'gann nods. "I know."

"Mercury, I'm not trying to start a fight, but I'm going to look a little harder, alright? We do actually need to talk to you."

As gently as I can, I extend my awareness into the… Honden. Which I can't feel. Okay, try a scan. Oh, that's a really good ward. There aren't any blank spots. It's either very carefully excluding particular things, r-.

I try scanning the world outside of Pagan Nation territory and get nothing.

"Oh dear."

Robert looks puzzled. "What?"

"I think that we're currently in a pocket universe that triggered when we crossed the pit trap. Because that's probably the only way she could deal with a major attack. Superboy, Match, Cornwall, please fly that way, that way and that way while I go back to the entrance."

Robert looks a little spooked. "And then what?"

"We still try talking to her. If we can't do that, you and I throw as much raw power as we can at the problem until it stops being a problem."

The four of us rise off the ground and head towards our destinations. Was there any sign I missed..? I don't think so. My spell eater isn't any hotter than its default state and there weren't any visible sigils at the entrance. Makes me wonder… How exactly is she as strong as she is? Usually an Atlantean magician will exercise their metaphysique for decades to get as strong as she is, and they'll still use carefully standardised spell construction because it's more energy efficient. She doesn't. She hasn't had any magical education that she couldn't get from a bunch of hippies and her own psychometric abilities. John didn't say anything about her drawing power from something or having some sort of elemental giving her power, so…

Heritage? And given how she used magic… Fae? It's the only thing that comes immediately to…

I see the entrance.

Mind.

Yes, now I'm looking for it, the exit doesn't look quite right. I can see the way out, but there's a haze, and-.

I try flying 'out' and it looks like I'm making progress, until I turn around and I'm no further from the closest tree than I was when I started.

"Alright! You got us! Certainly can't save the world from in here! Well done! Very impressed!"

I slow-clap her mockingly.

"You know we're not here to threaten you. I don't even really need you to do any magic, just tell us how to do something and that's fine. Mannheim's people are going to come for you eventually whether you leave us here or not."

"Then what do you want?"

I turn to see Mercury… Mercury's translucent projection, sitting in a tree. She's visibly older than last time we spoke, though that isn't too surprising at her age. I'm going to assume that she's intelligent enough to make sure what whatever I'm talking to isn't something that I can influence with the orange light.

"Passage to Otherworld. While still alive, obviously. The Justifiers are infecting-."

"I know, I can feel it. It's disgusting."

"Glad you think so. Why have you done this to me?"

"Thought John might have sent you. He gets through a lot of friends in situations like this."

"Haven't seen him since this started. Last I heard he was on Reformation Island."

She scoffs. "Fat chance with that one."

"That doesn't matter. I'm not sure why you don't want to talk to us and it doesn't really matter. Can you send us to Otherworld? Just spin this around and connect it to there rather than the regular material world? Then I'll have no reason to seek you out."

"Until next time."

"What do you want me to say? You are literally the last person I want to ask for help, because I suspected that you'd act up like this. But all of my magic allies are occupied, and the independent contractors are out of reach. This should be simple for you, and every moment you don't do it is another moment you spend in my presence."

"It's because I can't tell."

"What is?"

"Why I don't like you. I usually know why everyone's doing everything. The twins were saying the same sort of thing."

"When this is over I'll build you a suppression collar so that you can learn how normal people interact. Will you send us on our way now?"

"… Fine. Then it's all your problem."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:06 GMT

Mercury jumps down from the tree as… Something happens to the entrance. I actually have to shut my eyes as… The universe distorts, patches of colour running into each other, but I'm seeing… A twisting of-. I assume that it's the thaumosphere, but there's hints of-. I don't know what it is but I don't like it.

"Oh. Can you see it too?"

I gird my loins and look at the mess. Some things are lines with the black I associate with the Anti-Life, and others… I don't even know.

"If you mean the black lines, yes. I have been exposed to the Anti-Life before." Ugh. "Is this going to take-"

The view stabilises, looking… Like a slightly different woodland.

"-long? Ah, thank you. Orange Lantern to team, we have arrived in Otherworld. Please join me at the entrance."

I get acknowledgement pings over the radio, and…

"Alright, thank you. We're where we need to be." Mercury shrugs. "You're free to leave? I don't imagine that you want to be around me any more than I want to be around you."

"Can't." She folds her arms across her chest.

"And why is that?"

"I'm not Mercury. I'm like a bit of her that she broke off-"

"Because that worked out so well for John."

"-so she didn't have to deal with you herself."

"So she created you just.. to hold a conversation she couldn't be bothered with?"

"Mm-hmm."

She smiles in a decidedly unimpressed way.

"Are you supposed to make your way back to her, or just-"

She turns away and dashes across the 'threshold', running up to a… A tree.

"Come on, wake up."

"-going to do your own thing-"

Mitchell lands next to me, frowning at her.

"-now?"

A single bloom extends itself from the branch she's looking at. Staring at. It blossoms into a flower which she pokes at before resuming her staring. The flower closes, dying as the fertilised plant grows fruit at rapid speed. Cherries by the looks of things.

"Thank you."

The moment they're fully grown she pulls them off and eats one, chewing in the manner of a wild child never taught table manners. Or of my granddad, but he had false teeth. She turns around, smiling sweetly.

"There!"

"You ate food in another world and now can't leave?"

"Don't wanna leave. Mercury didn't care what I did once I did my job, so I'm staying here."

"Okay, good luck with that!"

Richard lands with a thump as the rest of the team finish flying in, Mercury getting a few puzzled glances.

"Everyone, mini-Mercury. Mini-Mercury, everyone. Cornwall, where to now?"

"Errr… Dunno mate."

"Hah!"

Mercury 2 grins while the rest of us look a little uncertain.

"Great Granddad came with me each time, before. And this isn't where we came through."

"I can fly us south if that would help?"

"Topography here doesn't work like that."

I look at Mercury. She looks back at me, smirking. I avoid looking at her.

"We could just do the summoning ritual we used to get your Great Grandfather here."

"Wouldn't work here. This is, like, as close to living as death gets. It's… Well, it's for people who don't really want death to be a transformative experience. Just a break in the country until their next reincarnation. You can't summon people from one place to another. If we set up a ritual he might feel it, but then he's got to get here."

"Any dangers we should know about?"

Richard looks at me quizzically. "You didn't check, Oh El?"

"Briefly. This was supposed to be a quick stop-off. I didn't think we'd have to go orienteering."

"Elves. Fae-fairy type elves, not like in Lord of the Rings. And all sorts of other fae creatures. Goblins. Nasty spirit creatures. Fomorians, though them you can see coming a mile off."

He hesitates.

"Usually."

M'gann's eyes glow as she looks around. "What's a 'fomorian'?"

"Like a giant with elemental magic..? A.. sort of mini-titan with a body that's mostly flesh rather than just being magic." He shakes his head. "But like I said, we could see one coming a mile off, and none of them have any reason to come after us."

He looks around, uncertainly.

"I think."

I look at Mercury. She looks back at me, still smirking. I go back to avoiding looking at her.

To my mild relief, Richard tries it in my place.

"Mercury, can you get us to Cornwall Boy's grandfather?"

She puts another cherry in her mouth, masticating unpleasantly. "Myup."

He crouches slightly, putting his head on a level with hers. "What will it take for you do actually do it?"

"Um…" She makes a show of averting her eyes as she thinks it over. "The soul of your firstborn?"

"Ah, no. Try again?"

"You could give me your real name?"

"Ah. I.. guess I could-.

"No." / "No, don't-!"

Mercury glowers at Robert and I in a good-humoured way, while Richard frowns under his mask. "Why would-? Oh. Fae. Right."

"Yeah. Alright, we'll just follow the road until we reach a settlement and then ask for directions-."

"Do you have any food from the real world?"

I nod at Mercury. "Yes."

"Give me that, and I'll take you to him lickety split."

"Deal."

I take a single Brussels sprout out of subspace and hold it out to her.

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd Sigmarzeit 2512
Mid Morning

"First time flying?"

The Lady Richilde has mastered her outward expression fairly well, but Aranei has been instructing me on the subject of unconscious tells, and… With a power ring to keep track, changes in heart rate, brain activity, posture… It's too easy, really.

"Yes, Sir.. Paolo." Head level, her eyes dip to take in Altdorf spread below us. "It.. is."

"Really? The Imperial Zoo's got a herd of pegasi. You didn't get to ride one at any point?"

"Those are.. trained for war, and tend to react poorly to… To unfamiliar riders."

"The Emperor didn't take you up on Deathclaw?"

"No. No. No, he did not." She makes an effort to master herself. "Is this.. flight… Flying, common, in your lands?"

"What, Bretonnia? I've flown with most members of my retinue at some point. Some… Take to it better than others. The village children find it thrilling, but their parents.. generally take to it about as well as you are."

She closes her eyes for a moment, wetting her lips and nodding.

"And some took to it well?"

I nod. "Sir Mallobaude was fine with it. That's… Why I was a bit surprised that you didn't have any experience with it. His uncle used to go pegasus-riding with him regularly when he was growing up."

"Sir Mallobaude? His family is from Parravon?"

"His mother's family, yes."

"And his father's family?"

"Couronne. Didn't spend a lot of time with his father."

"Are his parents estranged?"

"More like never tranged, really. She wasn't his wife or his official mistress."

"Then his absence from Sir Mallobaude's life may be no bad thing. He sounds like a man of low character."

"We both better hope not. He runs the country."

Her heads jerks around from taking in the sight below to stare at me. I smile slightly guiltily.

"His father is King Louen Leoncoeur."

"I thought that checking would be gauche-" And the magics in the Tabard of Kings blocks my scans. "-but that appears to be accepted fact."

"Check..?"

"Ah, you're aware that certain characteristics run in families?" She nods cautiously. "My people understand the mechanisms by which that occurs. We usually need a small blood sample from each person to compare their characteristics in detail, but I can do it by waving the ring at someone."

"I take it that your people can fly as well."

"Not as an act of will. And none of the flying creatures on my world could support an adult's weight. But we have machines for flying. Personal flying machines exist but they've never really caught on. Large flying machines for transporting large numbers of people are more common."

"Like the balloon-borne airships of the Dwarfs?"

"No, we gave up on balloon technology for air travel about a century ago. Then we moved onto something more like a gyrocopter but with lightweight engines and front-mounted propellers rather than-."

"I'm afraid that I was not educated as an engineer. Details such as that would be lost on me."

"Ah, sorry. Anyway, yes, the civilisation I come from can fly. But what do you think of the view?"

She considers the scene for a moment.

"I think that I like Altdorf more the less I can smell it."

Yeah, it… It doesn't look great. There's so much smoke from foundries and cooking fires that a constant pall of smoke hangs over the city. You could go cross-eyed trying to make sense of the streets, and they've taken on that particularly unsettling medieval architecture where the first floor overhangs the ground floor, blocking out the light to the road between them. The river comes in to the city looking reasonably fresh, and goes out a greyish brown that puts me well off the idea of drinking anything water-based while in the city. The streets are covered in excrement that I hope comes from horses and teams of boys with shovels take coins from town-dwellers to shovel a clean path through the fetid mess.

The only positive thing I can say about it is that it's actually pretty colourful. Richly pigmented paint appears to be both fashionable and within the budget of most people.

"Are the cities of your country different?"

"Less smoke. Wider streets. Taller buildings. And we make an effort to have some greenery in the mix. Trees improve air quality a lot, even when they're not in bloom."

"Then how do your fires work?"

"We use either mine gas or lightning. Gas doesn't make much smoke, and lightning only makes smoke where it's generated." Hm. "How badly do you think people would be terrified if I cleaned things up?"

"To what extent?"

"If I sent a giant wall of orange through the city, cleaning the air and removing the excrement."

Her face falls.

"I think they would stampede in a panic and many of them would die."

Yes, she's… Probably right. "Scratch that, then. Ready to see my village?"

"Should I not pack first?"

"We don't have any sort of embassy building. I can throw something together in half an hour or so, but it's probably better if you have a look around and tell me what you want for however many people you're going to bring with you."

"Then, yes, I am."

"Alright. When we move, it will be something like if you closed your eyes, turned around and then opened them again. What you can see will have changed, but you're still safe and sound. Do you understand?"

"No. But then, I didn't expect to. I am prepared."

"Alright." I plot a transition course to my village, harnessing my desire to return home and to show off what I've achieved. "Three, two, one, now."

The scenery skips just as I said, and her only real response is to blink in confusion at the new scenery.

"That is… It?"

"Yes."

"I.. thought that this part of Mousillon was swampland."

"When I got here, it was. I dug a few canals…" I point one out. "There, you see? To improve drainage, so we could use the land for planting. I went with apple trees so that their roots could stabilise the banks. Once I'm sure that I've got it right, we can add fields of annual crops between them."

"Is that something that you learned on your former world as well?"

"Ah. Sort of. The nation of Holland is largely below sea level and so has to use various drainage techniques to keep their land land, but I didn't study it in enough detail to implement that here."

"Then where did you learn?"

I wince slightly. "Well, since they've been cut off from the rest of the Empire… Marienburg has had to pioneer similar techniques to enable them to plant their hinterlands. They're sort of this world's Holland-equivalent. When they heard about the shipping canals I'm working on, they were happy to help."

"I see. That means that the Empire's maps of your land are out of date. Let us begin our tour there."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd Sigmarzeit 2512
Mid Morning

Lady Richilde pauses to examine a species of tree that I doubt that she's seen before.

"What is this?

"A cocoa tree. Native to Lustria."

She takes hold of one of the browning leaves and examines it.

"Is it diseased?"

"No, it just needs damper conditions and warmer temperatures than we usually get here." I sigh. "I knew that the yield would be lower than they get in Lustria, but I didn't think that they'd do this badly. I could probably build a greenhouse, but that seems a bit… Profligate, for a luxury product."

"What is its fruit?"

"Cocoa beans, which can be used to make a substance called chocolate. The dried bean can be used to make a hot drink, but it's the solid I was hoping to recreate."

"A drink? We import coffee beans from Araby. Are the two related?"

"No, though I see why you'd think that. And you're getting ripped off. They're roasting the beans before shipping so you can't plant them to grow them somewhere else, and that ruins the flavour. If you like coffee, I'll grab you a bag from the source and you can taste the difference."

"I doubt that trees planted in the Empire would do much better than these; we are further north. Have you tried opening relations with the various colonies on the Lustrian coast?"

"I wouldn't do that without coming to terms with the lizardmen first. I'd just get innocent farmers killed otherwise."

My skink priest contact Xhokiwoki was perfectly happy to provide me with examples of Lustrian fruit and vegetables, but last time I asked they told me that the Mage-Priests hadn't seen fit to speak about my situation. Whether that means they don't know, don't care or weren't paying attention when he tried to raise the matter, I don't know. And the Mage-Priests' view that the Old ones put humans in the Old World to stay there means that they almost certainly aren't just going to accept human farming colonies even if the colonies were prepared to pay them tribute.

Being carnivores, lizardmen don't have much in the way of arable farming and have no real interest in getting more. They don't want food, gold or labour. I pay for what I buy by returning stolen lizardman relics, but there's a limit to how much outstanding stuff there is.

She turns away from the probably-dying plant to look out across the fields being cleared by the labour of both local peasants and beastwomen. Yes, I could do it faster, but I need something that can be replicated.

"Have you considered growing them elsewhere?"

"Nehekhara is too dry. The only real alternatives would be Cathay or Ind, and I don't have any contacts in either country yet." I wave my right hand at the land being cleared. "This is all going to be conventional local crops. And I still have to worry that something is going to go wrong."

"Why? The soil in newly cleared land should be fertile and free of disease."

"We're basically in the Bretonnian version of Sylvania here. Slightly fewer zombies, slightly more mutants. I've cleared up as much residual Dhar as I can -and Loremasters of the Tower of Hoeth checked my work- but I do not want anything infecting people via the food supply."

She looks a little disturbed by that, and tries to brush dried leaf off her left hand.

I shake my head. "How often do you eat food that's been checked for Dhar contamination by a Loremaster? Do you have any idea how many cults I ferreted out in Altdorf?"

It wasn't all that hard. Scan for Dhar concentrations, then check with the Light or Amethyst College and then send in the Witch Hunters. The cults generally relied on secrecy amongst their members to avoid detection rather than magic defences, so I've been an out-of-context problem for them.

She nods, a little relieved. "Seventeen, and I take your point. Any of them could have attempted to sneak a potion of some sort into our food as they did with Uncle Karl, or cause some other grief."

We spend a few moments watching wheat seeds being sown.

"You mentioned the country of Holland on your world. Is there any part of your world that is similar to the Empire?"

"Oh, yes. You're closest to the Holy Roman Empire, but with a more sophisticated level of technology than they ever achieved. They had the same elected monarchy, just… More poorly organised. And of course they were monotheistic."

"Worshipping a single god is a little unusual-."

"No, they only believed that a single god exists. The two largest religions of my homeworld both shared that belief. The sort of pantheism that the Empire has would be… Plenty of places used to be like that, but the monotheistic religions converted most of them."

As far as I've been able to tell, monotheism isn't a thing on this planet. She's clearly having a little trouble with the idea. Even die-hard Ulricians want to be interred in a Garden of Morr when they die, and even a faithful follower of Sigmar would want a priest of Taal to bless their hunting before going to a priest of their main deity. It's a major difference between the Empire and Europe, and if I were a better historian I might be able to tell what changes it had made to their social development. I think that literacy rates are worse, but I don't know that for certain. Since they were never conquered by Tilea I imagine that Reikspiel is more like pre-Roman German than modern German… But it all sounds German to me.

"What other nations do you recognise?"

"Bretonnia is most similar to a country called France, which is south of my own home country. Estalia is almost indistinguishable from Spain. Tilea is Italy, though at its peak Italy conquered our version of Estalia, Bretonnia and the Empire. That's why I went there to find a manager for the road project; they were really good at roads. Once their empire fell apart it was over a thousand years before we started building roads as well as they did, and they're still respected for their cultural achievements. Kislev is Russia, the Hobgoblin Khanate is Mongolia… Only Mongolia is a human nation. Cathay is China, Ind India, Lustria is the continent of South America, a mixture of the Inca and Mayan civilisations. No Ulthuan, and with no Ulthuan we don't have a Naggaroth."

"And your home country?"

I wince.

"Ah… Well… The closest is… Albion."

"Albion?"

"They're about on a level with what we were two thousand years ago, before being conquered and civilised by our Tileans."

She looks decidedly uncertain.

"I suppose that they are better civilised that the people of Albion-."

"Look. You know the standing stone network that I'm incorporating into the road network?" She nods. "The people of Albion have a similar system in the Ogham Stones. It drains Dhar from the world while wrecking their own island. They literally can't build a better civilisation than they have now, and they did that to themselves for the benefit of the rest of the world. I realise that their society isn't very sophisticated, but they limited themselves for altruistic reasons and every generation born there has chosen to leave the Stones in place rather than tear them up to get some decent weather."

She nods, the disdain leaving her face. "Then you are right; we owe them for their sacrifice."

"No, what we should do is get elf or Nehekharan specialists in and replace the Ogham Stones with ones that don't wreck the entire country. But there aren't all that many people on Albion compared with the number of people in the Empire, so I can't afford to prioritise it. Or we could just get the polar gates closed and it would fix itself." I shake my head. "There isn't really anything of my culture there; they're more like how we used to be. It's like comparing pre-Sigmar humanity with the Empire. But-."

Winds howl around us, the sound deafening and the dust blinding! Shield up! A moment later it falls silent again-. Aranei is standing in the field, staring imperiously down at Lady Richilde.

"And who are you?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:12 GMT

"…should be here."

Mercury looks around at the surrounding landscape as we step out of the fairy ring, frowning discontentedly.

To be fair, it does remind me a lot more of the landforms of Sussex, with chalky hillsides and short-cropped grass. I can see herds of sheep grazing, guarded by dogs and simply-dressed shepherds. It's not Cornwall, though…. It might be how Cornwall was a few thousand years ago when the nature of this place would have been defined? I can't see Mr. Marrack Very Senior, or any overt sign of his magic.

"Why isn't he here?"

Mitchell looks over to the closest shepherd, who has glanced up at us with no real expression of concern. "I could go ask someone?"

Robert shakes his head. "This isn't the biggest afterlife, but… They don't-. There's no infrastructure. No newspapers or cameras. Great Granddad could be anywhere and they wouldn't know about it, even if they've heard of him, which they might not have done."

Richard steps in front of the frustratedly-pacing Mercury.

"What do you mean, 'he should be here'?"

"Here!" She points at the ground. "Everything says this is where he was. He should-"

The hillside opposite us disappears. Instead I see a.. wall of rock and earth, small tufts of grass growing in patches, as if the earth had just shot upwards-. It's moving-?

I raise a construct barrier at the same moment as Mitchell fires heat vision and M'gann fires a telekinetic wave, a giant rock… Limb? Slamming into our position! My shield is knocked back slightly, then M'gann's eyes glow brighter and shoves the arm away trailing molten magma from where Mitchell hit it!

And that gives us a slightly better view of-.

"Is that a f-?"

"Yeah, mate."

There's a face, not so much carved from rock as rock just sort of broke in a vaguely face-like shape. Now that my brain has adjusted for scale I can see the shape of its humanoid body, and-. It's not paying us attention-.

"Yield, Brannan."

A grey fist of granite erupts from the ground and punches the fomorian in the ankle, soil spraying away and staggering it.

"I have no desire to kill you-"

'Brannan' sights something and brings his hands around in a slap, clouds of dirt erupting from the point of impact!

"-but your rampage ends here!"

Two hands fall to the ground, Brannan staggering a step back and staring at his wrist stumps.

"Hey, that's Great Granddad!"

Kon assesses the state of the fomorian. "Does he need help? Or the giant?"

M'gann lowers her right hand, eyes still glowing. Then she winces, the glow cutting out. "Anti-Life. He's been exposed to it. Somehow." She shakes her head, grimacing. "It's.. controlling him."

"Cornwall, do you know any mind-effect spells?"

"Couple? Not good ones."

I know the spells he means. They're variants on the ones used to confuse travellers in swamps and lead them off course. Usually they wouldn't do much in combat, but they should do what we need here.

Brannan shoves his wrist stumps down, boring into the ground before pulling them out-. With new hands on the ends. He waves them upwards, soil exploding and filling the air!

"Kon, he's doing an Antaeus."

Kon nods. "Match, you get the right leg!"

Mitchell is slightly slow off the mark, but as Kon zooms forward into the air he takes off after him.

Richard nods. "The giant who regained his full strength whenever he touched the earth. So they lift him and what?"

Robert rises into the air, though that's more to get a better angle than because he plans on getting closer. He gestures with his right hand and the air flows, giving him a corridor of clear air to the fomorian's face. Three glowing balls of light fly out of his left hand a moment later, shooting towards the fomorian's face and flying circles around it.

And I reach out, feeling where the malevolent black is constraining its natural desire flows. I can push against that, but unless I want to cause permanent damage to Brannan's mental networks I can't destroy them by myself.

"Miss Martian, please make him relive emotive parts of his own history."

"I don't know if-." Her eyes glow. "Okay, he's distracted, I can do it."

With Robert preventing him from focusing and M'gann triggering-. Yes, I see. Strengthen that link, nothing there, nothing there… That one, that impulse-. Back off a little because I don't want the orange light to overwhelm everything else.

"You are ensorcelled, Brannan!"

A bellow of air tears through the dust cloud, dispersing it and sand-blasting our position. Richard turns his head aside to spit out a mouthful of dirt.

"Stand down, or-!"

I see the moment that Graham Marrack notices that Brannan is rising into the air and not actively resisting any longer, then the slight change in his profile as he turns his head to glance at us.

Push here push here push here, and…

"Lady Metis, I ask that you aid this confused man in regaining his reason."

He's off the ground and he's not fighting back, but that doesn't mean much if we can't get the Anti-Life out of him and none of us can-.

Graham Marrack holds up his right arm, grey light forming a mist spear-.

"Captain, that's-."

He throws, the spear boring into Brannan's chest and vanishing inside his carapace! What? Why did he-?

"Oh." Richard sounds.. relieved? Why-? "It's fine, Oh El. It's a spell for destroying magic bound to someone or something. I've seen Zatara use it."

Mitchell pulls away and the leg he was supporting crumbles and falls apart. Kon looks confused as his leg collapses on him. The earth form clearly wasn't a golem or conjured elemental, so where-?

I fly through the air, construct shield projecting me from falling clods of earth and I grab a humanoid form from the centre of the mass and pull him free before turning and flying out. Setting him down next to Richard-.

Richard already has a healing potion out and carefully pours it into the unconscious man's mouth. He looks battered and his wrists in particular are inflamed. Feedback from the earth body? Nothing needs immediate attention-.

"Great Grandson." Graham Marrack floats down towards us, Robert backing up slightly as he approaches. "What are you doing here?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:16 GMT

Robert looks his great grandfather over. He isn't wearing the uniform which he wore in life. Rather, he's dressed more like a druid, and one whose magic wasn't quite up to keeping all of the airborne dirt off the material. The stern patrician glare is everything his shade promised it would be, and only softens a tiny degree when he realises why his great grandson is hesitating to respond.

"I am uninjured." He looks over to the recumbent Brannan. "And Brannan will live. Good. Now answer my question."

Robert briefly looks at me, and I give him a shallow nod. He returns his attention to his great grandfather.

"We're trying to get to Erebos. Only Themyscira disappeared, so we can't get in that way."

"When I said that our line comes here, boy, I did not merely mean that the Christian Heaven is barred to us."

"No, no, I know. But we need to talk to Melinoë, because we need someone who's good at manipulating fear so we can give them a yellow power ring so we can get rid of the Anti-Life."

"And this 'yellow power ring' is in some way fear-related."

I nod. "The strength of the constructs is based on the user's command of fear. As you can understand, few heroes could function as wielders."

"Do you mean that they must engender fear, or understand it on a philosophical level?"

"Ideally, both. My first choice bearer was a man who made criminals afraid of him in order to suppress crime in a lawless city. Unfortunately, he's no longer an option."

"There are many fearsome men in Otherworld, though I doubt that they would suit your purpose. As for passage to Erebos, there are places I could take you where… Robert and I could open a gateway. Unfortunately, I cannot afford the time away from Cernunnos's keep to perform either function."

"What's the problem? I noticed that Brannan was infected by the Anti-Life."

"And he is not alone. Otherworld is invaded by the living and those they have turned with their sorcery. The remedy is obvious."

I nod. "We stop the invasion, you send us on our way."

He nods.

"Great Grandfather, I was wondering. Are any..? Are there any more of us here?"

"Yes. Our entire family, going back to the first of our line. Fifteen centuries worth of wizards of Cornwall, all spread about to deal with those bound to this… Anti-Life. What is it?"

"Supposedly, it's proof that life is inherently meaningless, self-defeating and self-destructive. The infected are prone to obedience and joyful fatalism."

"It afflicts fools and wastrels, then."

"It takes a rare wisdom to simply ignore it." Behind me, Richard makes a quiet choking sound. Jealous, probably. "But you can assume that it also weakens the resolve of the afflicted, like we confused Brannan's mind to aid in removing it."

"I will be certain to add such spells to my order of battle." With a slight gust of wind he rises back into the air. "With me, and bring Brannan with you. His family will want to know that he is well."

I nod. "Robin, are you-?" He taps his kinetic belt and flies after Mr. Marrack. "Good thinking. Mercury?"

She sticks her head… Out of my shadow. "Fine! I'll come out when you get there."

She ducks back down, my shadow rippling as she does so. I can't feel anything, but I can't help but feel a little disturbed. And from the look on M'gann's face, she feels the same way. I shrug, and we take off after Mr. Marrack with Brannan supported by a stretcher construct.

Brannan's collapse dumped tonnes of soil all over the place, but the shepherds and sheep managed to get out of the area before they risked getting entombed. But the stone-paved road is buried under a pile of dirt that will take a long time to move by hand, so I form a shovel construct and dump it on to the verge. If this was Erebos I'd leave it like that because the shades would have eternity to shovel it, but since in Otherworld they only have a normal lifespan I should probably… I use a series of crane grab bucket constructs to roughly fill in the holes the fight causes before heading after my team.

"…first actually like?"

Robert looks enthusiastic to be learning about his ancestors directly. His great grandfather on the other hand seems even less enthusiastic than normal.

"He died young, and like all of the oldest of us has spent more time here than alive. He knows little of modernity, and his magic is such that he is hardly human any longer. He serves our line more as an oracle than a magician."

"And… Grand-."

"My son is here, yes. There is a library on an island to the west of here. He is there if you wish to pay your respects."

"And your dad?"

"Boy, which part of 'all' did you not understand?"

"I haven't-. We're not a big family, and then there's all these people here who are. Granddad and Dad didn't take this seriously, so-."

Mr. Marrack's face relaxes a little. "You see our continuity as something to be proud of; a worthy history of service."

"Something bigger than myself, yeah. It's like I'm where I'm meant to be, you know?"

"I do. Indeed, I do."

And he sounds less displeased than normal when he says it.

"Ah, Captain Cornwall?"

Richard hesitates as we pass over a slightly more densely populated area. But only slightly. There are plenty of homes but not all that many people to live in them. Since Otherworld is a stop-off before reincarnation and since very few people subscribe to Celtic beliefs in the world of the living there probably aren't that many returnees any longer. Honestly, I'm not all that clear where the people they have are coming from. Wicca is probably close enough to the original Celtic practices to send people here, but that's… About it, really. All the old Celtic areas are happily Christian now.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Is that the right thing to call you? I mean, would it get confusing if your whole family calls themselves that."

"No, I was the first man in our line to call myself that. My son does not use the title and my grandson is still alive. My own father answers to 'Sir Samuel', though I doubt that you'll have cause to use it."

Richard nods, then pointedly looks down. "Where is everyone? On Earth, the Anti-Life broadcasters can just-."

"They have not been abducted. Not in numbers, at least. Few souls come to Otherworld, and fewer still stay."

"And you do? I thought people just lived in Otherworld until they died and then got reincarnated."

"Usually, that is the case. But our magic binds us here. I may travel to another realm of the dead, with effort. But spending more than brief moments in the land of the living is beyond me, and I shall never be reborn there."

Richard nods, while Captain Cornwall returns his gaze to the horizon.

"Now, look there: Cernunnos's hall. Our destination."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:20 GMT

'Hall' is right. The main building itself looks like an Iron Age longhouse, only better in the same way that Themysciran buildings are better than their actual Iron Age equivalents. Cernunnos has had thousands of years to work on the place after all, with all the skill and magic that he could bring to bear. But continuing the godly tradition of primitivism it's wood and stone and slate; no bricks or roofing tiles. And continuing the tradition of the Iron Age it's smaller than most modern primary schools.

The settlement around it continues the 'abandoned' theme of the villages nearby, except for a group of slightly oversized people sharing Brannan's build and… Yes, those are elves, wearing a glamour of ridiculous leaf-themed armour and generally looking like they've been heavily photoshopped. They'd probably look like beings of unearthly beauty to an Iron Age people, but between improved diets, makeup and the people I spend time with being at the end of the bell curve of attractiveness anyway-

M'gann glances at me with a smile.

-it doesn't really hit as hard. Plus, if I remember Sandman correctly they're all pretty plain under the illusion.

**What? You are.**

**I'm a shapeshifter who copied a human girl she saw on TV.**

**[The systems of emotions and desires I see in the people around me.]**

M'gann dips in the air in surprise, getting a concerned look from Kon before she stabilises.

**Is that what we look like to you?**

**Unless I make an effort to ignore it. Though in point of fact, I've learned enough about Martian desires to know-**

She goes pink.

**-that you're not exactly hard on the eyes in your default form either.**

**We.. can shapeshift away the parts we don't like easier.**

"I will warn you, be careful with the elves." Mr. Marrack has lost whatever mildness his tone had before. "They are deceitful and capricious. Watch your manners and watch your words."

A round of nods and he leads the way down towards the great hall. As we land, an oversized man and women rush over to where I place the stretcher construct, the woman checking on Brannan and the man looking towards us -Mr. Marrak in particular- for an explanation.

"We were able to free him of the spell. He should awaken presently."

The man breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Captain. I thought that we had lost him."

"We recovered him. I have not found the rest, and will not rest until I do."

"You have my people's gratitude." He looks around our group. "All of you do." His eyes rest on Robert's white-cross-on-black-background, his head nodding in acknowledgement.

"Has there been any further sign of the one who did that to him?"

The man shakes his head. "No sign. The ground does not remember their passing, nor the air remember their breaths. And more mundane searches showed nothing either." He turns his head towards the woman. "Eadgyth, is the boy well?"

"Better than he has any right to be. He fought holding naught back, surging his magic freely. He should be tired to the bone, but he breathes easily."

I nod. "We used a minor restorative potion on him. Hopefully, we'll be able to question him about what happened."

"Aye." Brannan pulls himself into a sitting position, wincing as he does so. "That you can. That-. Voice. It was telling me-."

"That your life was inevitably self-destructive?"

His eyes dart around as he tries to get his head around what happened to him. "It sounded like it made sense."

Richard nods. "I know what you mean. I got hit a few weeks ago and it was… Like nothing had any.. real.. meaning."

"It had meaning. Whatever he told me-."

He winces again, and Richard's eyes narrow.

"Mannheim."

Brannan nods, slowly.

Robert frowns. "Great granddad, have they been building any… They look like radio towers, only the closer you get, the louder the Anti-Life is in your head."

"No. I have seen nothing like that. Otherworld may look like Earth, but the rules by which it operates are subtly different. I don't think that they could simply bring their transmitters here and expect them to function in the same way."

"Are you sure?" His grandfather's face hardens. "I-I mean, they've been putting them in standing stone circles on Earth. I don't think they'd do that if they weren't getting something out of it."

"No. I don't suppose that they would. There are connections from Otherworld to Earth, which the fae may use to travel or project their magics. But it is not a simple matter to use them in the manner you describe. Do they have a highly skilled magician would could manage the connection?"

Richard shakes his head. "Not as far as we know."

"One of the fae?"

…

Richard and I look at each other, coming to the realisation at the same time.

"Speak."

"No. Not a fae, exactly. But there's a good chance that they could have picked up… They call themselves 'sheeda'."

"I care not for the court they hail from."

"No, they're-. They're from the far future. Humans with.. bits of other things added on. I don't know if fae was part of the makeup, but they definitely had a… Dark fairy aesthetic. Robert, where was Britain keeping their sheeda prisoners?"

"We were keeping them in a prison camp on Salisbury Plain. Then they got moved somewhere else." He shakes his head. "Dunno where."

"The same sort of 'dunno' like where the conspicuously absent government superhero team were based?"

"I-. Maybe? Granddad, do you-?"

"Castle Baaleskein. The former owner was a minor magician, and he stated that he intended to leave it to the government to serve as a base of operations for supernatural operatives. It had the facilities to house a great many prisoners, though in my day it never had more than a handful. While its owner was there it was almost inviolable, but without him I could see it being breached by an intelligent foe."

"Alright then. Working theory is that sheeda have enough elf in them to use the fae-friendly connection points. How do we stop them?"

Horns ring out in a cheerful and grandiose fanfare as the elves march prance towards us, their blonde-haired leader grinning with a pompous smugness that looks weirdly out of place outside of a melodrama. It doesn't even annoy me, it's just too-.

Kon leans towards me. "Is that guy for real?"

It's too ridiculous-looking.

"Provisionally, yes."

An elven herald darts ahead and pulls out a scroll.

"Hail Lord Cluracan, sublime in grace and subtle in mien. Hail the ambassador of the Court of the Faerie!"

Their leader -Lord Cluracan, presumably- steps forward and takes a bow.

I clap, and after a moment so does the rest of my team.

He doesn't appear to get the joke.

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:24 GMT

He bows like an actor receiving a standing ovation, hair cascading over his face in a perfectly even wave, then moving back into place as he stands upright. His eyes move-.

Ring, did he just see me and decide to make himself look taller?

This ring cannot evaluate subject motives. Apparent height shifted after subject looked at Lantern.

So, yes.

Correlation does not prove causation.

"Hail, friends." He throws his arms out in a pitch perfect piece of overacting. "I understand that you have a grievous need of our guidance and leadership, to prevent your people being preyed upon by a dastardly dark god." He shrinks his smile to something a little less risible and he makes eye contact with me. "But where are your manners. Won't you give me your name, stranger?"

I don't roll my eyes, but I do close them for a moment.

"In the interests of avoiding having the Ophidian eat you, no. Instead, I will tell you what it is and give you a creative commons license to use it as necessary in conversation or documentation."

Lord Cluracan sweeps past me and smiles at Mitchell.

"If that one intends to be oafish, might I ask for your name instead?"

Mitchell shrugs. "We all know that joke. We think you're asking us to tell you what our name is, then suddenly we can't remember our own name because you own it. Everyone who knows anything about fairies knows that. Why do you even ask? It's like the Sphinx's Riddle." Lord Cluracan appears to have spaced out slightly. "I guess if you asked enough people you'd probably find someone who hasn't heard it eventually, but I'm pretty sure Captain Cornwall would have jumped in if we were going to say something we shouldn't."

Stone cold.

"Yes, well done!" The smile is back, and the other elves… Appear not to have changed their expressions. Are they actually here? I mean, I heard the sound, but it's perfectly possible to feign any sensory input using a glamour. "It is nice to see that humans are still learning the old lore."

"I mean, I'm not human, but okay."

Ring, did you hear the trumpets a moment ago?

Logs indicate 'yes'.

Hm. But you have processing capacity. It's perfectly possible that you're affected as well. Scan for ground pressure under their feet.

Within predicted parameters.

And the impressions for the steps they've already taken?

Not found.

Hah!

Mr. Marrack appears to decide that he's had enough tomfoolery. "Do you know where they are operating? It is imperative that we find this… Mannheim, and stop him as swiftly as possible."

"It may be that I do." He affects an expression of what I think is supposed to be mock-offence, except that he's trying to convey that he is offended. Another exaggeration. "But I'm feeling a little put-upon at the moment."

Now, I don't know for certain that the other elves don't exist. They might be disguising their own tracks. It would hardly be surprising for a diplomatic envoy to be accompanied by elite special forces. So how do I test it? Seeing their desires isn't reliable because my vision is already being spoofed. Enkindling their desires won't do anything because they don't have any. Stabbing them in the foot while Cluracan is distracted might work, but equally he might sense it and have them respond appropriately.

"Then grow up. You are just as vulnerable to his attacks as we are." Mr. Marrack glances at me. "Or more so. And if what these heroes say is true, they are blocking off your access to Earth. That means little to a dead man like me, but for your people I imagine that would be inconvenient."

Cluracan rolls his neck, raising his arms in a gesture of appeal. "Do I look inconvenienced? I come here out of the goodness of my heart, bearing information which you want… And you have the temerity to mock me!"

He places his right hand on his chest, making eye contact with… M'gann, this time.

"Me."

"Captain Cornwall, does-"

My shadow extends away from me in a way not explicable by the light sources around me.

"-this land have any sort of-"

When it reaches the middle of the pack of elves, Mercury pulls herself out.

"-built-in concept of guest-rights-"

She reaches up and flicks the elf in the back, causing him to… Turn into elven confetti and float away.

"-which-. Never mind."

"Inside the hall, Cernunnos would enforce the peace. But we are outside. Still, I insist that-."

Cluracan glare at me, pointing aggressively with his right hand. "Guaaaaards!"

Mercury pops another as he marches past her while the rest draw their swords and form ranks. Cluracan looks rather pleased with their display.

"And what do you think of that?"

Richard blinks. "Who did they take?"

Cluracan frowns faintly. "I don't concern myself with learning-."

"Who did they take from you? I don't know who you think we are, but we're superheroes. It's our job to deal with situations like this. We don't want anything from you. Whoever it is, we'll rescue them when we rescue everyone else they've taken. And we'll try doing that whether you help us or not, but you helping out would make it a whole lot faster."

Cluracan's eyes widen, his expression.. actually looking like a real expression for the first time since I first saw him.

"I-ah… What.. gave me away?"

"You were over-acting, badly. I-" He glances at me. "-don't know why no one else noticed."

"I haven't met an elf before. It seemed credible to me that they might actually behave like that."

Kon shrugs. "I just thought he was an idiot."

Mercury skips along behind the shield wall, poking glamour-crafted soldiers into confetti. Cluracan finally notices, half-turning to see what she's doing.

"Lord Cluracan." Mr. Marrack still sounds stern, but there's a slight suggestion of compassion. "We do not ask anything in return. Tell us what you know, and we will-."

"My sister. My sister vanished, and the King and Queen don't care. Not for low-born like us."

"So not a lord?"

"For my birthday several centuries ago they made me lord of an unusually large toadstool."

Richard nods. "We all know people who've been taken. We wanna help."

"A-alright then. I'll tell you what I know."

Mr. Marrack nods. "I believe that Cernunnos will want to hear this from you directly."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:28 GMT

"Come, friends, and be welcome!"

Cernunnos's physical form immediately puts me in mind of a faun, only… Grown up. He's clearly larger, his horns are more developed and he seems calmer than the fauns in the stories Diana told me. I know that Olympians tend to be stronger than the gods of other places due to leeching power from titans, but I'm never sure what than means in raw numbers terms. Or how material or magical Otherworld is in relation to Olympus.

My own weak sense of such things suggests that he's more… Here, than other things, that at least in part there's more to him than what I'm seeing. But I don't know how significant that is. Could he ignore the Anti-Life simply as a consequence of his power? Or is he a faun who paid attention at magic school? As the others move to take their seats around the hall I palm a rune stone and-.

"If you want to have a cock-measuring contest, Lantern, I can just stand up."

He's wearing a kilt… Ah…

Mr. Marrack frowns at me. "Put that away, fool."

I put it away.

Not wholly unlike a faun, then. But that cup he's carrying is filled with water. He's a god of the wilds and wildlife, but… From a time when hunting and gathering were common ways to get food, when the wild was right next door. But I did a me because I don't have anything he wants and I didn't think that he had anything I could want.

I take a seat, and decide to let people more familiar with the situation than me take the lead.

"I see that Brannan has recovered his wits. Good work, Graham. Did he remember anything?"

"Only the feeling of despair that characterises the spell. But it seems that Lord Cluracan may know a little more."

"It was a most memorable toadstool." Cluracan shifts awkwardly. "Come, come." Cernunnos gestures to the space in the middle of the seats. "Say your piece."

"Thank you, oh horned one."

Cluracan.. walks into the centre of the room, and I blink as my brain tries to tell me something about-. I think he's nervous enough that his glamour of a man striding confidently is only partially covering it, but I can't be sure without actively intervening. Our host doesn't seem bothered by it.

"We were... Ah, my sister and I… It…"

"Do not fear, Cluracan. On a matter like this, we can avoid word of any adjacent misdeeds reaching the ears of your king and queen."

"We were facilitating a trade between certain parties. Parties we had both dealt with before. There was, ah… Something different about one of the parties, but since it had no effect on the transaction, we…" He exhales. "I didn't enquire further."

Mr. Marrack narrows his eyes suspiciously. "What sort of trade?"

"Nothing grossly immoral! Some things are less valuable in one place than another. The corporeal world has a great deal of corporeal matter, the worlds of concepts and forms more… Abstract goods. And there's demand for each in each and we can easily relay them."

I'm not sure how to feel about that. I can respect them for their entrepreneurship, but at the same time the sorts of things an elf would trade could be things that would be highly illegal in the human world if we knew that it was possible to trade in them. The Dream City has a roaring trade in dreams and inspiration, and I saw first hand some of the monstrous techniques people there are willing to go to in order to get their hit a little more cheaply.

I certainly don't trust an elf when he says that something isn't grossly immoral. While I don't think he'd say it if it was grossly immoral according to his morals, those aren't human morals.

"Who were they?"

"Their..? Names..?"

"Human? Elemental? God? What realm were you trading in?"

"Earth. They were all-. I mean to say, I think they were human." He points at Mitchell. "I honestly thought that he was human."

"What were they buying?"

"Dreams of misery and despair, which isn't that unusual! People use things like that on their enemies all the time. And…"

Mr. Marrack slams his fist against his arm rest. "I swear on my line, that if you don't start volunteering the information we need to rescue your own blood, then-."

"The bones of false martyrs, some samples of soil from various places… A final scream or two…" He shrugs, shaking his head. "We didn't have to source any of it ourselves… There may be a thing or two which I'm forgetting, I didn't think anything of any of it at the time!"

"Is that normal?"

"Normal for a group of wizards living in an ancient castle on a blasted heath? In this day and age? It didn't strike me as strange."

Mr. Marrack leans forwards. "What was the name of the castle?"

"Nnnnnnammmmme..? Ahh…" Cluracan inflates his cheeks as he tries to remember. "Baal…? Something."

"Baaleskein?"

"Yes! Yes."

"Baalfield."

"That too!"

Mr. Marrack frowns at me.

"He doesn't remember it well enough for us to reach a firm conclusion. Always check a theory with counterexamples."

"When was your sister taken?"

"We had just completed our transaction, and they offered us a little something to drink, and I palmed it and took it with me, and… We were on our way home when-."

"On Earth or in Otherworld?"

"Otherworld. When we were ambushed by giant flies of all things. I made an appeal to the treaty between our rulers and the Queen of Insects but they didn't pay a blind bit of notice. It was all I could do to escape myself!"

Mr. Marrack nods. "We will need the names of your contacts on both sides, and to be taken to the precise route you took. And we will need to follow up with the fomorians as well."

I nod. "Robin, you take the Earth side. I'll take the deep arcane side. Cornwall Boy, the fomorians." The other three don't have directly applicable skills, but… "Miss Martian, go with Cornwall. Match, Robin. Superboy, you're with me."

He's still carrying Helios's blessing and Nth Metal armour, both of which should help out. Miss Martian can detect Anti-Life infections easily, and it'll be a little more gentle to her to have her do that in a place that isn't overwhelmed with the stuff.

Brannan's father nods. "We'll introduce you to our people, though I don't know how much good it will do."

M'gann nods sympathetically. "We've dealt with things like this before. At the very least I can detect them before they can take anyone else."

"I will accompany the Lantern." Cernunnos doesn't stand, but he does smile at me. "It has been some time since I have headed deeper into magic. It will do me good."

"And I will keep an eye on my great grandson. Cluracan? Take us to where you were attacked."

 

[Mr Zoat]

3rd Sigmarzeit 2512
Afternoon

"Hng."

Master Architect Buri dislikes it when I present him with a plan out of thin air. And I've learned not to refer to it as a 'rough draft' or request 'his first impressions'. He hasn't written anything in his Notebook of Grudges that I couldn't immediately make amends for, but I don't like antagonising allies and I suspect that it's been a close run thing a few times.

"As you can see, it's close to the design for the improvements to my manor, with added rooms for her staff."

And don't ask him to 'suggest a site'. There are right sites and wrong sites, and he can tell me which is which and if I ignore him then it's Going In The Book.

"Are you magicing it up, or are you going to building it properly?"

He's not actually glowering at me, it's just that dwarfs have naturally glowery faces.

Now that's a tricky one. Dwarfs don't actually mind their allies using magic, even if they have no truck with it themselves. But Buri of Clan Ullek is here to do things the proper dwarf way, and that means not creating things with magic or Old One technology.

But. Using it as a tool is fine, so long as all of the pieces are properly constructed and put together. And since the Controllers are my liege-lords, flat out rejecting their tools is forbidden as well. So I can build it using the ring, or I can hire the dwarfs to build it, but if I'm going to create it from nothing then I shouldn't have involved him in that undwarfish nonsense.

I only need to be told once.

"I was intending to retain your services to build it while I transport the materials here according to your specifications."

Which is fine, as long as they're exactly to specification. I'm not supposed to create them through energy to matter conversion, but he hasn't asked and as far as I know there's no way for him to check. So peace is maintained another day, and if I provide substandard materials then that's my problem.

Contractually.

"Hm. After our current slate, or do you want me to move things around?"

"I regret the inconvenience, but the lodgings of the ambassador takes precedence over anything that can be paused without setting it back."

"So nothing, then."

And it took a while, but I've got to the point where I can tell the difference between a nothing-nothing, and a technically-nothing-but-we-can-move-a-few-projects-without-ruining-things-why-can't-you-be-better-organised-human, and that was the second.

"Thank you, Master Architect, I shall leave the issue and any improvements you feel necessary in your capable hands."

"Mm."

He's no longer looking at me, but he's got his drafting tools out and a sheet of parchment to draw a copy on. There'll be changes as needed based on where he intends to site it, but I've been paying attention and the ring's AI has been paying better attention; my draft is faultless for what it is.

Dwarfs are all for formal greetings, but leave-taking is much more informal. I've given him the job, he's accepted it, I can get lost now. So I leave his workshop and hope that Aranei hasn't done anything regrettable. Because when I edited her mind to remove her thoughtless malevolence I didn't try to make her incapable of violence. This is a violent world and people need to be able to defend themselves. Which means that she's still capable of deciding to kill someone on an individual basis.

But all there is outside is a slightly relieved-looking Lady Richilde, who favours me with a strained smile. "Have you agreed a contract?"

"It's covered by our existing contract, but you're being prioritised. Going by past experience, he'll have a list of materials by the end of the day, I'll pick things up and he'll get started tomorrow."

"And will you return me to Altdorf until the work is complete?"

"Ah. I can. But I assumed that you'd want to spend at least a day or so. I was planning to put you up in my manor."

"Your manor?"

I shrug. "I know it's not a palace, but it's perfectly habitable."

"Does your sorceress also reside there?"

"Yes. What did she… Say?"

"Nothing at all. I have had dealings with elves before, and there is a look they have when they decide that anything human is beneath them. She had the look of one who was insulted by my presence."

I smile, relieved. "Oh good. I was worried she was angry."

"You do not think that she is angry."

"There's a difference between being angry and being insulted. She was insulted when one of the beastwoman got her a cup of water but she wasn't angry about it."

"I misspoke. She is angry that I am here."

"Yeah, I… Thought so."

She looks at me expectantly. I look blank.

"Sir Paolo, why is a woman I have never met angry that I exist?"

"Okay, so, when I first got here, a ship of Dark Elf reavers were attacking the village. I stopped them, and offered them a choice between death and having me alter their minds to cure them of their evil. She chose the second, but I didn't fully understand some of the behavioural changes that would occur. To put it simply, she treats me as her patron, someone who she has to please in order to maintain her lifestyle."

Realisation dawns. "So she is your mistress."

"Well, where I'm from, she would only be my mistress if I was married to someone else. And while she's working under the assumption that I'm.. her social superior, so I'm going to eventually tire of her and move onto someone else, because that's how things work for Dark Elves."

"Do you intend to stay with her, then?"

"Oh, God no. I was clear about that from the start, but it's not about trading up for social reasons. It's because she's still a dreadful person held in check by the compulsions I gave her." I exhale. "But that's not how she sees it, and I suspect that she might have interpreted your presence here as an attempt by your uncle to…" Ah. How do I put-?

"To whore me out to win your alliance?"

"I was.. going to put it as 'form a marriage alliance'. I don't really know how things like that work, but… A knight who earns glory on the field of battle could reasonably expect a beneficial marriage as a reward. I have permanently killed a Greater Daemon, and a horde of lesser daemons and beastmen and orcs. And I have no family. I could see how she could reach such a conclusion."

"That is true. But I assure you that my uncle cannot arrange my marriage without the consent of my parents, and none of them have mentioned any such plan to me."

"But is that how it works?"

She considers for a moment. "Are you familiar with the writings of Prince Aleksandr Kloszowski?"

I briefly considered him as a potential successor, but after I checked it turned out that the man was far too self-absorbed for that to be a good idea. Maybe if I could train him with a second ring?

"Somewhat. He's a revolutionary Leveller, isn't he?"

"He writes about the failings of the Empire's rulers and the suffering of the poor. I don't believe that he has any actual idea as to what could be done to improve things. But one thing that rings true is that there is little room in our society for someone to advance themselves. A man born a farmer's son will become a farmer."

"Common men who join the army and perform superlatively can get knighted. In Bretonnia, if-."

She shakes her head. "How many ploughmen who complete their deed of errantry become dukes?"

"A duke will always have relatives to inherit his seat. It would never come up. Not unless there had been a huge slaughter."

"The great and the good of the Empire would tolerate a common soldier being knighted. And perhaps married to a third daughter of a minor baron. That is all. Anything else is a tale of the ballads. Tragic ballads, for the most part. While there is sense in what you say, the idea that someone who is not bound to them by blood could achieve enough to possibly justify so high a marriage is not something they would see as an opportunity."

"A threat. I could just upend the whole system."

"My uncle did ask me to learn your character. I would not be surprised if he implied to concerned notables that he was considering offering you my hand, but it is not…

She considers how to put it. I smile.

"It's not a serious offer, it's an idiot management technique."

"Just so. Regardless of your merit, that is all that it is."

Ring, monitor her response. "That's probably for the best." I gesture towards the pavement, and we begin our walk towards my manor. "I doubt that my betrothed would be best pleased, otherwise."

Ah.

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:38 GMT

"Is the young lady going to show herself?"

I'm flying at speed and Kon is flying alongside me, but Cernunnos is keeping pace by running. That's not possible according to basic physics; his legs are moving in a relatively normal running pose, but the level of force he'd need to use moving like that would send him into the air and leave craters in the ground.

"No. You're standing up."

"Hah!"

That feeling that there's more to him is stronger here, probably because he's exerting himself magically. The land around us varies between woodland and open fields. They look like they're used for farming, but the few buildings we see look dilapidated and deserted.

"Are we going into the Dream?"

"I doubt it. There are few pathways into the Dream that can be travelled on foot. No, I see the path the elves trod. They sought to hide their route."

"Do you know a way into the Dream? We're trying to get there."

"Drink wine and then sleep. Or do you need to enter physically?"

"Physically. We need to get there so that we can go into Erebos by the back door. We want to talk to Melinoë, and I want to know what happened to Themyscira."

"There is no direct route, I'm afraid. If you can travel to the lands of the Sumerian gods, there may be a route that they use."

"How come?"

"Even the Dream Lord could not move an entire nation into his realm without leaving echoes. The Sumerian gods use that connection to sustain themselves, and they are not above leasing it for the use of others when if profits them."

"Why do they need to do that?"

"Our spheres decay without something to bind us to the material world. Or if we can use titanic levels of power to sustain them. I don't have that power, and neither do they."

So… Why..?

"Is it the Cornwalls? Are they what keeps Otherworld alive?"

"No. That helps, but it isn't enough power. Likewise with the small groups of people who still worship me. We are sustained by a great piece of-"

"King Kon-Sten-Tyn."

"-enchantment. Yes." He flashes me an inquisitive glance. "How do you know of it?"

"I'm friends with his current heir. Who I can only assume is descended from a daughter. He did something to corrupt the establishment of the Christian religion in England, didn't he?"

"Yes. Basically. It was more to ensure that they could not forget about what came before than anything direct, and the ley line network provides us power as well, but without his work we would probably have faded by now."

"Mercury doesn't like the standing stones. She thinks that they distort the natural flow of energy."

"Usually I'd advocate for the natural state of things. But earthquakes and volcanoes aren't good for humans, and those are what happens when geomantic power runs wild."

His eyes dip to the trail that he's somehow following.

"As I thought. Dorset."

"What's special about Dorset?"

"It's where cats first entered Britain. Good hunters, cats."

"And why is that important?"

"I'm not so good with domesticated animals as I am with wild ones. Dogs, eugh. Give me honest wolves instead."

"Why is it important that's where cats entered Britain?"

"There's no British cat god. Cats were brought here by Phoenicians, who brought the Kahndaqi cat goddess with them when they came. And thanks to all of the cats in Britain, there's still a weak link to her realm. It's a good place to get from one realm to another, if you don't mind the risks."

"And what risks are those?"

"Bubastis is a decaying realm. All the glory it once held is reduced to ruins and vague traces of power. And not all of its people like being dead."

Kon and I exchange a glance.

"So… When was the last time you were there?"

"Some time ago. It's hard to keep track here."

"And how much worship would a place like that need in order to regain something of itself?"

"This is like the time that Graham explained what trains are. Has something happened that would have revitalised Bubastis?"

I nod. "Teth Adom returned to life. He rules modern Kahndaq, and he openly worships its old pantheon. I wouldn't say… That the people have abandoned Islam, but… The old religion is… On their minds more than it used to be."

"That… Might change the situation."

"Ah, Paul? I… Went on the internet one time, and…" Kon looks away awkwardly. "You said the Japanese pantheon was recruiting. Do you think they'd have gone for… Bast?"

"They were mostly interested in new focuses of power rather than other old pantheons. Why..?"

"Catgirls." / "Catgirls."

"Bast isn't a kitten."

"The Japanese just use depictions of women with feline features as… Um. Ah. I'm not totally sure why, but they use them a lot. The Japanese pantheon might capitalise on that by offering Bast a position. Maybe."

"Humans with animal features." He grins. "That will never catch on. Ah!"

I point ahead to.. a partially collapsed keep. At the speed we're going we're on it in seconds, slowing down to a stop just outside what's left of the outer wall.

"Here?"

"Look for a cat icon. That will mark the entry point."

Kon and I nod, then the three of us proceed inside. There are signs of fires having been lit in the not too distant past, blacked embers on the floor up against several walls. Some footprints, mostly humanoid, but… I don't know, those could just be scuff marks. I'm not a tracker. But I can just wave my hand and release my construct lanterns to find a cat statue.

"What should we expect when we get there? You said it was more primal?"

"Yes. You will become less your material self and more your arcane self."

Kon glances at me, and I shrug. I coped with being a spirit snake in the Silver City, I can cope in Cat City.

"Is that dangerous?"

"It may be strange and disorienting for you. That may be dangerous. The experience itself shouldn't be."

I get a flicker of sensation from one of my construct lanterns. A heavily corroded cat statue about twenty centimetres tall tucked out of the way on the first floor.

"Found it. Let's go."

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:44 GMT

Cernunnos stands in front of the statue, me on his left and Kon on his right.

"So how does it work?"

"You step into the portal that is a part of the statue." Cernunnos smirks at him. "Can't you see it?"

"Do we need to see it?"

"I can take you through without you doing so, but then you wouldn't know how to leave without me. And exposure to the primal world on the other end might not be safe if you cannot manage this simple feat of arcane control."

I narrow my eyes slightly as I unfocus on my meat-body and allow it to fade into the background a little. Like this I can see it plainly: the hole in the statue translating one state to another. At the far end will be a marker representing this side, the two twisting things around to make themselves into a bridge.

"Oh? A demi-god, are you?"

"Demi-embodiment would be more accurate. Do I just..? Shift through it?"

"We almost certainly perceive it differently. Do whatever makes sense to you."

"Ah..?" Kon's kneeling down to get a closer look at the statue. "Little help?"

"Kon, you've used Helios's power before."

"I glow. And that's something he does. I don't need to understand anything to do it."

"But you feel something when you pray and the power activates, right?"

"Ah… I think so?"

"Okay. Close your eyes and… Try and feel that feeling right now. Feel the power Helios gave you inside you, feel how it's connected to you."

He glances at me uncertainly, but closes his eyes and concentrates anyway. The faint corona of sunlight radiating from his body intensifies slightly.

"I dunno."

"Alright. How about when we went to the sun to ask him for a favour?"

"I wasn't really focusing on what if felt like. I was just hoping it wasn't going to feel like being on fire."

"Okay, well, just try feeling the light around you. Did Angelika cover that when she was teaching you kryptonian martial arts?"

"Yeah, I just hadn't applied it to…" He breathes in slowly, eyes closed. Then something… Shifts in the air around him, the air glowing brighter as he opens his white-glowing eyes. "I think I got it."

The interior of his mouth glows white as he says it.

"Okay, now how about the statue? Can you-?"

"Huh. It's like a… Three D funhouse mirror. The lights getting reflected and.. kinda… Twisted around."

"Can you get through?"

"I think so."

"Are you both ready?"

I raise my eyebrows at Kon, who nods. I nod in reply. "Yep. Who wants to go first?"

"It should be me. You may need a steadying hand when you reach Bast's city."

I hold out my right hand to the statue, and he-.

He strides forward without.. going anywhere. It's a little like he's running into a gale force wind, but he's getting smaller and… Not? Space isn't bending around him but that's the best comparison I can think of. Then he throws.. a spear at the statue, but he flies with it into the portal.

Kon and I stare at the statue for a moment. Then he raises his right fist and wiggles it up and down once, twice, and-.

My paper covers his rock.

"So does that mean I get to pick..?"

"You can go first. I.. might need a while."

I push further into the incorporeal, body vanishing as I become a snake of orange light. Light vanishes from my perception and is replaced by layers of drives and impulses based around the objects which I perceive in relief. But not the statue, that's it's own thing and… Not? Regardless, my own desire squirms me forward and through and…

And I'm buoyed along by my own desire following the trail of the elves desires and the desires of the many many people who have travelled this route before. A little surprising how many people have used it before.

And then I'm through, and…

Oh my.

Okay, so there's a night sky. It's a little short on stars and I think there are people up there, or impressions of people of something. I can see tiny whiffs of orange but that doesn't appear to… It's only a tight network crowding everything out immediately around me. Like I define that space, but for everything further away that's just one part of what it is. Like I can't define other people's thing but my thing defines my local area.

"What do you think, Lantern?"

There's a circle of wolves and deer running around a forest and horns and hunting…

I… I don't think I was ready for this.

I look away and there are statues, Egyptian statues-. Kahndaqi statues. Most of them are weathered and damaged, but… In a few places it's like an ultra-modern veneer in metal or terracotta has been added over the top. I can't see anyone-. Or anything that could be a person other than Cernunnos. And I'm very glad for that.

"I prefer the material plane."

"There are parts that are a little less raw. This is supposed to turn aside those who don't belong."

"Elves can cope with this?"

"They can pretend really hard. They didn't see what you're seeing."

"Can you track things here?"

"Can't you?"

I look, and in my immediate vicinity I can see the material desires that belonged to them leaving a trail across the still sand. No wind here, I notice. The trail ends when it gets too far away from me, so I'm going to have to follow every step.

"Yes. Should we expect company?"

"Your friend should be through in a moment. Bast herself will not come to see us, not in her domain. One of the few-."

Then the sun comes through the gateway, and I can't see anything else.

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:48 GMT

Blinding, blinding bright! It's the sun and the light and burning! I can feel my face melting-!

Back up, back up, back away until my 'zone' and his aren't overlapping any longer!

"What-?"

Two beams of fire strafe the landscape, melting statues and-. Block! Shield!

"Kon, turn it down!"

"I don't know how!"

The beam of sunfire slams into my shield and starts melting it, orange light… Dripping..? Onto the sandy ground.

"Try pushing the feeling away a little!"

Lord Aker, I pray to you, in the name of Teth Adom, please help my teammate turn down his sun.

"I-! Ah. I think-."

The beam cuts out, and I breathe a sigh of relief as Kon does the-.

"Aagh!"

Flames roar out in all directions as his aura expands! I strengthen my shield as the ground melts into glass, the superheated pseudo-air pushing me back! I see the ground beneath the statues sag and cause them to tilt towards him as the flames cut out, and beneath them I get a momentary glimpse of a Kon-shaped mass of brilliant white sun fire.

"Kon, try to-!"

"Ah, a new sun."

I half-turn to see a pair of male lions approaching us. They look identical to each other and move in synchronicity with the same gait. But more than the feline outline I see yesterday and tomorrow, and… They're either Aker's body or his servants.

Duaj looks at me. "He's making quite a mess. Bast will not be impressed."

"Then we will make our apologies when we see her. Please, help him."

Sefer tilts his head to the right a little. "They can hardly repay us if they're dead."

"Aghwgh!"

Kon flares again, waves of flames shooting into the sky! The moment they dim, Kon curling up on himself in the foetal position in the middle of a glass pit, they dash forwards, stopping on either side of Kon and-.

And the sun goes down. It's still there, but it's… Only weakly visible. Kon looks left and right, smiling at them.

"Ah, thanks."

Duaj looks away dismissively. "You are in our debt. And Bast will want those statues rebuilt. This place is precious to her."

Ah, yes. The newer parts of the statues have survived just fine, but the older parts are wrecked. Several are partially submerged in the cooling glass while others are broken and thrown back. Some of the oldest have exploded, sending red hot stone fragments in all directions.

"Oh."

Except… No. The statues are… Echoes of monuments in the real world, magic energy forced into shape by the echoes of the devotion of mortal worshippers. I move closer, encompassing one pile of rubble in my domain bubble. Yes, I can see the strands of desire that were binding it together. With a little effort…

It doesn't move back into position. The statue parts don't melt down and flow back into each other. Instead, the pieces are pieces one moment and whole the next. Large pieces one moment and a restored statue a moment later. Can't do anything about the sand, as that doesn't have any particular desire-associations. But the first statue, the second… I go down the line of Kon's swath of destruction, pulling them out of the glass and making them…

The ones I restore don't maintain the damage they had when I first got here. Curious, and something which means that Bast shouldn't have any grounds for faulting me.

When they're all back in place I turn to the lions.

"Good enough?"

Sefer tosses his mane. "Good enough for us."

Duaj regards me levelly. "Whether it's good enough for Bast is another matter."

"Cernunnos, in your-"

I look around and can't see him. Kon's burning… Sunset orange… Huh, we nearly match. Walks over, keeping just far enough away that we don't overlap again. He looks around too. Then I try detecting the trail of his desires-. Yeah, Cernunnos isn't a big god. I guess that the sort of power someone like Helios can throw around would actually be a threat to him. But his trail goes there and then…

Cernunnos emerges from his own domain, shining with the concept of 'burrowing' and 'hiding'. He looks at Kon warily, then nods at the lions.

"-opinion, how irritated will Bast be?"

He takes a moment to check what we've done with the place.

"I doubt that she will be angry at all. You've made the place more whole. She might ask you to repeat what you did in other places."

I don't mind fixing the place up a little. I'd do that just to thank them for sponsoring Adom. I turn to the lions.

"Please take us to her."

They look at each other and then turn and head off down an avenue lined with statues. We fall in behind them, Cernunnos keeping his distance slightly while I perform a visual check on Kon.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"I feel.. weaker, but that's probably a good thing."

"What happened?"

"I just thought more was good? And then I didn't know how to turn it off." He raises his right arm slightly, looking at it. "But I couldn't-. It wasn't too much exactly, it was just-. I didn't know what to do with it. Did you get hurt?"

I shake my head, which is a much bigger motion for a snake. "No, that was fine. Do you have time for extra magic-related training?"

"Not right now. And after we deal with the Anti-Life I'm gunna have classes to catch up on."

"Fair enough. But this is probably something we should include in future training schemes. You never know when you're going to have to enter the realm of the gods."

He nods, and in the distance I can see the outer wall of the city we're approaching. Duaj turns his head towards me.

"Welcome to Bubastis. Try not to make a mess."

I consider my history to date.

"No guarantees."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th Sigmarzeit 2512
Early morning

"You just want a jug?"

My early morning visit to Yousuf's coffee house in Zandri has attracted a small crowd. I've been here a few times, but not enough to be known above the level of rumour. Being so far from the polar gates, Arabyan magicians making use of bound elementals are a common enough sight, but they don't usually glow orange and they certainly don't have my complexion.

Yousuf just takes it in his stride as I nod, and starts pouring freshly brewed coffee into a jug. The crowd on the other hand are keeping back a little, just in case.

"How are things going with the honoured dead?"

"Pretty good, thank you for asking. The canal continues to widen, though it'll probably be a couple of months before you see a significant increase in shipping here."

"That will be nice. Do they drink coffee?"

"The Tomb Kings? Ah, not yet, but we're working on giving them a sense of taste. At the moment, the best we can do is have someone else drink for them and transfer the sensation over to them with magic."

"Is this for them?"

"No, we've been limiting them to relatively tasteless food. Crackers, ship's biscuits, things like that. It's been such a long time that anything with actual flavour might… Have regrettable results. But so soon as we know it's safe, I'll bring a few guests here."

"Thank you, sir. I've never served a dead customer before." He turns towards the kitchen area. "Zurafa!"

"I have them, father!"

A young woman emerges, a small bag of coffee beans under each arm. She then lays them on the counter next to the lidded jug.

"Excellent, thank you."

As this is a port city which pays host to travellers from just about everywhere, just about every currency is accepted locally. Old World currencies haven't undergone decimalisation, and the Empire has a weird conversion of 12 pennies to 1 shilling, and then 20 shillings to 1 crown. A peasant earns about a crown a month before taxes or expenses, which puts an interesting spin on the earnings of an adventurer in Warhammer Quest where a single goblin spearman paid out 20 gold if you killed it and even a mid-level magic item would be twenty times that.

Nice work if you can survive doing it.

I put down two silvers for the counter and slide them over. Yousuf picks them up and taps them against each other, listening to the sound they make. Then he smiles, sliding them into his apron.

"Thank you, sir! Come again soon!"

I smile back, grasping the bags and jug with construct hands and walking towards the exit. Everyone gives the crazy foreign wizard plenty of space as I exit the building and then fly upwards. There aren't many flying monsters in this part of the world -it's far too hot- but the local sultan employs a small number of carpet riders and most viziers maintain a powerful bound spirit in case of emergencies. None of them have taken a special interest in me before, but it's always worth keeping an eye out in case things change.

And now, north.

A little later

"Good morning, Esteban."

Esteban nods calmly as I appear at the gate to his farm, gesturing to the bag of oranges and jug of milk leaning against the wall with his walking stick. He's long since handed off running the orange grove to his son, but he seems to find my visits amusing. I get another nod as I float one of the coffee sacks over to his chair, and take the oranges in their place.

"Same time next week."

Another nod, and then homeward bound, cooling the milk and cleaning the fruit as I go. The sack of oranges go next to the juicing machine. Dwarfs don't actually need a plan approved by the Guildmasters for everything. For mechanical devices, it's enough that the general principles are approved and no part of what they're making is disapproved. A simple hopper and mechanical crusher was basically just a smaller version of what they use for crushing ore in the mountains, and so didn't present a challenge at all. My coffee paraphernalia… Well, if anyone likes the drink then I'll buy something.

Coffee on the table with ceramic mugs, pitcher of water, bread… Is done, so I take that out of the oven. Bowls of dried fruit, nuts and honey join them, and… Well, there are eggs and bacon in the cold room. No sense in getting it out unless someone wants it. The Empire is a few centuries away from developing the microwave or freezer, but dwarfs aren't foolish enough to try burning wood or coal underground for any purpose where it's not strictly required and I purchased a rune oven early on.

"Good morning, Sir Paol!" Sir Mallobaude strides in, his hair still wet from his post morning exercise shower. "Ah, peasant fare again! Martrud of Montfort surely smiles upon us from the Lady's realm!"

"You're welcome to get something else if you want it."

I walk over to the porridge pot and ladle out a scoop. Setting it down on the table and turn my attention to the juicer. "Orange juice?"

He frowns as he lifts the lid on the coffee pot and takes a sniff. "Ah. You think that we should drink poison, to train our bodies to resist it. Wise indeed."

"It's called coffee. It's from Araby. I assure you, it's not poisonous."

"What is not-?" Lady Richilde walks in from the direction of the guest room, stopping as she sees Sir Mallobaude. "Poisonous?"

"Fresh coffee, direct from Araby. There's milk and honey if you want to dilute it." I pull three oranges out of the sack and load them into the hopper. "Orange juice?"

She's still staring at Sir Mallobaude. Right, no tabard.

"Sorry, it's usually-" I deposit a smock on him from subspace. "-just the three of us."

"Will Lady Aranei be joining us?"

"No, she's abjuring my bed at present."

Sir Mallobaude shakes his head. "You give that filly too much rein. I tell you, she wanted you to demonstrate the strength of your ardour after she felt threatened by the presence of Lady Richilde. Letting her leave indicates a truly heartless callousness."

I crank the orange-crushing handle, feeding the oranges into the mechanism as the juice begins to flow through the spigot and into my glass. Lady Richilde watches the process curiously, clearly finding it more interesting than Mallobaude's chest now that it's covered by a layer of wool. The gearing makes it easy to use but slow to fill a glass, the skins of the oranges making quiet plopping sounds as they fall into the pig swill hopper.

"I don't like treating people like petulant children, even if they're behaving like petulant children. Lady-."

"Sir Paol the Heartless, the bards shall name you! Lady Richilde, you know the minds of women better than he, tell him that I speak the truth!"

Lady Richilde pours herself a mug of coffee, takes a small test-sip and then adds a small spoonful of honey. "Were I in his place, I would be more concerned for the feelings of my betrothed."

Glass filled, I cease cranking the machine and wait for the last of the juice to run out.

"In Queen Khalida's country, it would be perfectly normal for a nobleman to have several concubines. And possibly even junior wives, if the situation warranted it."

I don't think the fact that the same technique that has allowed her to taste for the first time in millennia can also be used to share other sensations is really a topic for the breakfast table.

"Where is her country?"

"Nehekhara. She rules the city of Lybaras."

"That's where you began the canal. Your betrothal gift?"

"Not how I originally intended it. I thought she'd be interested in a ceremonial marriage with.. a suitably armigerous second son. But it seems that I was the outstanding candidate. Oh and.. we're… Ah, I'm not a skeleton fetishist, we're-."

Her face falls. "I had assumed it was a ceremonial…"

"We're planning to restore them to life, but no. Not ceremonial."

"I think it might be best if we spend the day going through all of your plans, so that I can properly… Summarise them for my uncle."

"Sure thing. Orange juice?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:50 GMT

"I do indeed come from the most perfect city of dreams, sir." The merchant smiles in a punter-friendly manner, though it's not completely disingenuous. Dream-Baghdad's people do genuinely love their city and respect their Caliph. "Have you visited before?"

"Yes. Once the present difficulty in the material world is dealt with, I will be returning to the court of the most wise Caliph as he directed, to tell him of my journey through a dream storm."

"Through a storm? That is a thing that all men know is impossible."

"It was certainly difficult. Would it be possible for you to relay a message to the palace for me? I wish to apologise for the delay, but as I said, the matters of the material world have required a great deal of my attention."

"I would like to boast of my close friendship with the greatest of kings, but the truth is that I am a simple merchant. I have no way of gaining entrance to the palace. The guards would simply turn me away."

I pull a small quantity of sand up from the ground and melt it into glass, including a structural irregularity in the shape of an orange sigil in the centre.

"Please, show that to the guards. If they don't let you in, you can keep it as a memento."

His smile fades a little as I threaten to draw him into a situation far above his preferred risk threshold. But after a moment he starts to picture the potential advantages.

"And you want nothing else?"

"I want many things. Everything, really. But today I only seek two things: a message sent to the Caliph and news of an abducted elf."

"Ah. Well. I am sorry sir, but I have never had cause to have dealings with an elf."

"In order to skip a potential waste of time, I am obviously happy to pay for accurate information. There is no need to talk around the subject."

"And I would be happy to take your money sir, but few elves make the journey here and none at all come to my stall."

"Would you be interested in establishing a trading relationship with them?

"No, but if you have a contact then I have a contact."

I nod as best my serpentine head can manage. "I will seek you out in Dream Baghdad once my business here is concluded."

"I will see you there. Good day to you, sir."

I turn away, leaving the glass cube in his care. The market here is nothing like as large or chaotic as the one in Baghdad, and my avarice sense quickly demonstrates why. This place serves as more of a through-road than a place for casual purchases. With no real resident population people trade with their contacts in private sales. If you want something then you arrange a purchase in advance. The stalls are mostly displaying examples of wares, acting as a lure for people who want something else. There are things here that I'm sure even the better educated Atlantean magicians would like to be able to purchase, so I'll be sure to put Queen Mera in contact once this is over.

"...anything older."

Kon is conversing with someone who looks like a relatively normal man aside from the hole in his chest over where his heart should be.

"'Older'? My friend, Martian materials are uncommon enough here, and you want something older than this?"

He holds up… It looks a little like M'gann's kuru pendant, though the design is more simple.

"You won't find that anywhere. Search all of the realms you want."

"I will! Thank you."

Kon steps away from the stall and heads towards me. He shrugs as we make eye contact. "I was hoping I could get something from before the Guardians did… Y'know."

"Honestly, I'm not sure that would be a good idea. While I don't approve of everything the Guardians did, excising those memories allowed Martian civilisation to exist."

"Right, but…" We turn and walk up the main boulevard towards Bast's… Temple? Palace? Cernunnos felt that giving her a little warning might be for the best. "There could be all kinds of things about what martians can do that they don't know anymore." He raises his left eyebrow. "And since when do you want to lose information? Or give up a way to make M'gann more powerful?"

"Since there's no real way to test whether or not experiencing a Burning Martian's dream will turn a modern martian into one."

He frowns thoughtfully, then shakes his head. "I don't see how that could happen. The only minds they had to communicate with back then were other Burning Martians. Modern martians know what it's like to not be monsters."

"I suspect that you're right but I don't know that you're right. And without a way to test it…"

"If that did happen, could we undo it? I mean, the Guardians did it in the first place."

"There aren't enough Guardians left for them to be willing to send someone to oversee an experiment like that. As for a Lantern… Maybe? I wouldn't want to take the chance on one of the local ones, myself included."

He nods, clearly dissatisfied, as we reach the end of the thoroughfare and begin walking up the steps to the entryway. The walls around us are covered with Kahndaqi hieroglyphic depictions of both Bast and mortal cats-. No, wait. That one is Sekhmet. I load a copy of everything I see onto my ring's database. I'm sure that if I knew more about their theology that the story on display here -accurate or otherwise- would be quite informative, but given the huge span of time Bast was worshipped for I don't know which particular form of the mythology it is referring to.

"Do we really need to talk to Bast about our mission? I don't think she can really help us."

"This is her realm, and we know they came here. Even if she can't help with our main objective, there's a good chance she can give us useful information."

"Anything we couldn't get by asking around the market?"

"Maybe. It will be quicker and more honest, though."

"If she decides to help."

"I'm fairly-."

A blur lands in front of me, grabs me with ferocity and bloodlust and leaps back up, pulling me along with-. It? No, her, that's-.

Sekhmet tosses me so that I roll across the brick platform at the front of the palace proper, coming to a halt about half way across as she glares at me, teeth bared.

"Do you think I am a whore, Lantern?"

Unlike the housecat-looking Bast, Sekhmet definitely has a more lion look. Those are big teeth she's showing me.

I opt to stay down.

"No, oh goddess. I have never thought of you as such a thing."

"And yet you saw fit to offer me to the Olympians."

"They are the gods I worship. You may consider the fact that I want you included among their number as a sign of my admiration. I didn't consider Zeus worthy."

She growls, but given that her teeth mostly disappear afterwards I think it was a 'marking territory' growl rather than an 'I'm about to tear your throat out' growl.

"And you were not just trying to make a cat joke?"

…

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:54 GMT

Sehkmet is a goddess of war and violence, ruthless in defence of her cubs and people. She's also a goddess of healing, because if you get on her bad side you're going to need it.

On the other hand lying to a goddess isn't a particularly good idea either. And I've just spotted Cernunnos behind her and the deer-man appears to want me to avoid angering the lioness-woman. Yes, obviously, but how?

"I find that adding a little humour makes the central point-"

Her eyes glow and then she's there, claws slashing as commerce is continued by other means!

A-ow!

Guh-! I've been knocked back into a semi-human-. My head is still snake-shaped, but the rest of my body-.

"What are you doing?"

Kon's crested the stairs and is taking a stance. I try shaking my head, but his eyes have gone up to sun-on-the-horizon.

"A little humour makes the central point more memorable, but if I have offended you-"

Does this type of snake have the ability to spray venom? No? Okay, change what type of snake I am, load the venom glands and try and tempt her closer.

"-then I am sorry. The fault is purely mine. Please tell me what I must do to make amends."

She ignores Kon to glare at me, clearly still unhappy.

"The people of Kahndaq are-."

Claws in the chest!

"They don't worship me any-"

And spray! Get as much as possible in her mouth and up her no-

Agh! A slash wound, but she was too distracted to give it her all.

-se!

Ah, I've got a small amount of ambrosia left over as a gift from Hephaestaean, put it in a pressurised tube and squirt it down her throat and then back the heck off because I'm not actually sure this is going to-

Sekhmet hisses, wiping her muzzle with her teeth showing!

-work come on come on!

She shakes her head, blinking and staggering a pace as the alcohol reaches whatever passes for her bloodstream.

"I will not forget this."

Then her facial structure begins to change, cheeks widening and muzzle flattening and fur changing from dirt yellow to dark grey. She blinks for a moment, then rearranges her robe to adjust it to her more feminine frame.

She makes a lapping motion as she tastes the high strength alcohol I just sprayed her with, then appears to become aware of me.

"I know you. You're Adom's friend, the Orange Lantern."

"Yes, divinity."

I bow politely-. Then find myself snake-tongue-first in cat boob.

"And you are the one to whom we owe this restoration of our estates!"

I retract my tongue, but not before tasting her health and vitality. There's a sense of retreating tiredness, and injury recently healed-.

And a finger on my forehead pushes me back.

"I think that you have tasted enough of my teats."

From slightly further away, yes, I see that new and vital fur is growing over patchy older fur, new meat and fat pushing shrunken skin back to healthy dimensions.

"I am glad to see that you're well. I wasn't sure exactly what effect restoring Adom would have on the domain of the Kahndaqi gods, but it looks like a positive one."

"It has been." She looks out towards the rest of the city. "We have not quite been fully restored as yet, but as more people reach out to their older gods, that will come in time."

The advantage of modern communications technology. She doesn't need to displace Allah from Kahndaq. A few worshippers here and there will be plenty to keep her in good condition.

"I had a few ideas about speeding that up, but I'm afraid that I have more urgent business to attend to at the moment."

"Even when this place was nothing but ruins, I still had eyes everywhere. And now there is so much more to see." She turns back around as Kon strolls over to stand besides me, checking my wounds as he does so. "What is this business?"

"Can we get to Erebos from here?"

Bast turns to look at Kon. "Nephthys has not fully reawakened, and I don't think that the other gods with authority over the dead could take you there. Is it passage between the realms that you seek?"

"No, that would just let us skip a stage. We need to know about a couple of elves who came here while acting as couriers. If you can tell us who they were buying from or transporting goods to that would help a great deal."

"Why should I share their private affairs with you?"

"Because the male elf -Cluracan- was lucky to escape the people who successfully abducted his sister Nuala, and he's asked us to free her. Our only interest is in securing her safety."

"And not in the undoubtably underhanded dealings of the merchants? They are my city's lifeblood."

"In your realm, the trade laws are what you make them. The material world is in such disarray that enforcing any particular law at this point is impossible. Unless they are trading with people infected with the Anti-Life, in which case I will attempt to persuade you to authorise me to kill them."

I pointedly look towards the city.

"After a certain point, I suspect that your city's recovery will be made easier by trade treaties with other realms, rather than enabling single individuals to sneak in and out. I would be most happy to act as your emissary, or to guide your emissary to receptive ears."

"I have already had an offer on that subject."

"From the Japanese? I half-expected that. My advice would be to turn down direct inclusion now that you've got another option, but be open to cooperation. And make sure that the other gods are prepared to transfer power to Amon if anything happens to Adom, because at the moment he is your brand and this could all reverse if he dies."

"That's a sensible idea, but I wasn't referring to them. It seems that the pantheon of the Aztecs have undergone a similar rebirth to the pantheon of Kahndaq. Do you know anything about that?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
14:58 GMT

Aztec… No? I mean, I wouldn't be astonished to learn that some of the Sons of Dawn picked up… Parts of their religion, but I can't see Hugo bringing back the more murderous parts of the religion. Most of his people have Euanthe as the most prominent deity, with various elemental beings becoming background figures. Some of those are loosely related to figures from old South American religions, but I don't… Think there's anything that could cause a change like this.

"That's news to me, oh Bast. Ah."

I mean, there's… Aztek, but I haven't seen any sign of him around. His secret society might still be active, but they're secret. And so far as I remember they don't really do anything like the old version of the religion. It's a little difficult to cut peoples' hearts out heroically.

"May I ask how they managed that?"

"No, but Tlazolteotl hasn't looked as good as she does now for… Longer than I can remember."

Something like that couldn't happen without Zauriel noticing, right? I mean, I wouldn't mind if people switched to worshipping the Aztec gods as long as everybody's hearts remained where they are…

"What did she ask of you?"

"That I visit her realm with a few friends. A peaceful visit between pantheons squeezed out by monotheism."

"I don't know enough about the Aztecs to suggest anything. Though I am a little surprised by the timing. I don't think there's been any sort of resurgence in their worship on Earth."

"Then perhaps I should see for myself. Now that I have the power to have choices again, I enjoy using it."

"Uh, Sekhmet seemed annoyed about my suggestion that she replace Ares in the Olympian pantheon."

Bast blinks. "Did she say why?"

"She thought that I was trying to prostitute her and that I was making inappropriate cat jokes."

"I think that she's still annoyed about not getting to offer her power to Teth Adom. Granting him her stamina, strength or speed would have been a great advantage to us both."

"How do I calm her down?"

"You do what you did. I am her when calm. But perhaps a gift would not go amiss, delivered by messenger just in case."

"Thank you. I'll do-."

"Ah." Kon takes a half-step towards her. "So, Nuala? Are you okay with us questioning people?"

Bast considers him for a moment, tail waving back and forth.

"The covenant between man and cat is long since broken. But cat-spirits of all kinds come to my city, and they know where their dishes are filled. And they share what they see."

"And are you going to share with us?"

Her eyes narrow slightly, her left ear flicking. "They don't have cats on Krypton, do they?"

Kon thinks for a moment. "I mean, not any more."

Her ears flap, and she looks towards the steps. "And speaking of broken covenants…"

A large black cat walks up the steps, calmly looking us over before turning its attention to Bast. "I did what you asked."

"You did what I paid you for and used it as an excuse to entertain yourself. But if you want to stay in my realm, then you will take them to the ones the elves spoke to."

The panther's tail jerks from side to side. "Perhaps I don't."

"Oh goddess, is this creature annoying you? Because a little orange light makes all creatures more obedient."

The panther bears its teeth and crouches slightly.

"Oh don't even. You threw your weight around when you could, and now someone else is doing the same you're acting like it's inherently unreasonable. You can deal it but not take it."

Kon shakes his head, turning to Bast. "Have you ever considered getting a dog? Loyalty's, like, their defining trait. I got a wolf, and she's great."

"Those appear to be your choices." Bast walks right up to the panther, forcing it to crane its neck to maintain eye contact. "Do as I ask, be controlled, or be replaced. You may choose as you like. Now."

The panther holds out for a moment, then cringes, tail going down and teeth being once more covered by gums.

"I will obey."

"Good." Bast's eyes flash and the panther twitches, blinking rapidly. "My agents have shown you where to go. Take them there, guide them, and make it clear that anyone who doesn't answer promptly will earn my ire."

"I will."

Bast turns back to us, head held high. "You two are interesting mortals. I expect to see you again when this is over."

Kon and I bow politely, then walk over to where the clearly unhappy panther is waiting for us. Cernunnos joins us a moment later as Bast returns to her recliner and starts licking her right hand.

"I'm sorry. Sekhmet was out when I arrived. She said that I smelled too much like food to talk to."

"Not a problem."

I consider making a 'pussycat' comment, but decide against it.

"Do you know what triggers the transformation in the other direction? I'd like to avoid it."

"She can trigger it voluntarily. The only other thing that I've seen trigger it is the scent of fresh blood."

"Don't bleed." I nod. "Good plan."

"Hey, ah…" Kon walks closer to the panther, which ignores him. "I'm Superboy."

"I don't care. I do this on sufferance." The panther turns away from the main thoroughfare and into a smaller alley. "The elves have spoken to many people, and as Bast has shown them to me so I will show them to you."

"Thanks. Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Orange Lantern can get a bit…" He glances back at me. "Demanding when he gets stressed. Can we pay you back for this?"

"I've never eaten a member of your species before. Leave me your arm when you go, and I will be content."

Kon glances at me. Hm. Well, I can't easily cut his arm off or replace it, but I can synthesise a new arm and leave that. I nod.

"Sure. I can do something like that. So who are we going to see?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th Sigmarzeit 2512
Morning

Lady Richilde frowns. "…a vampire?"

Sir Mallobaude nods. "As a Questing Knight, I should slay him. But Sir Paol recounted to me the history of Count Vlad von Carstein and I realised that as his peasants lack a human knight to protect them, he is their only defence against the mutants and monsters common in this Dukedom."

The look she gives me is significantly less friendly. "Von Carstein? Who tried to conquer the Empire and turn it into another Land of the Dead?"

"Ah-."

"As it was recounted to me, the peasants of Sylvania paid him and his family a tithe of blood in place of their crops. It disturbed me to think of it, but upon reflection… How different is that to what we Bretonni do?"

"Unless you drink blood, it is quite different."

"We take the majority of the produce of their labour in return for our protection. Under a vampire a peasant may die of blood loss, it is true. But if a peasant does not have enough to eat, is his body not weakened? Is he not more susceptible to disease? Is his capacity to labour not reduced?"

"Vampires slay their peasants on a whim."

Mallobaude's face shifts to a more sombre expression. "And if you believe that knights do not, I could recount those incidents that I myself have witnessed. Oh, they do not eat them, but there are trivial acts which knights consider to impinge upon their honour that can result in a peasant being cut down. And not a soul will speak against it." He shakes his head. "Ultimately, it is the behaviour of the man that I will judge, and while there are many knights more noble than Sir Gwilym, there are all too many less."

Sir Gwilym was the chap who tried to talk Mallobaude around to the dark side when we first met. He's actually my closest neighbour, and… Yeah, he's not worse than the majority of local rulers. Which is an issue, because while I suspect that followers of the Chaos Gods are being rallied against men all over the world, he's right there. And there are more than enough unhallowed corpses in the area for him to put together a decent sized army if he wanted to.

As far as I can tell he's a Blood Dragon but not a member of the Order of the Blood Dragon, a descendant of Abhorash but not of Walach Harkon... But how closely he follows that ideal is debatable to say the least. Abhorash would have wanted him to go on a tour of the highest concentrations of monsters in the world in order to master his blade and himself, while he mostly just lives like a normal aristocrat. He is willing to talk to people he considers to be in his social class, which is why he merely responded to my persuasion of Mallobaude with ill grace and an invitation to visit him if he changes his mind rather than going into a frenzy.

Lady Richilde takes a moment to gather her thoughts before turning to me.

"And do your plans include reuniting the Duchy of Mousillon under Sir Mallobaude?"

Mallobaude shakes his head. "By the Bretonnian Laws of Chivalry I am a Questing Knight. I cannot claim a seat until I drink from the grail, and… That seems unlikely to occur. While I consider my deeds here to be virtuous, they are not the sort which the Lady rewards."

She frowns. "Have you abandoned your quest?"

"I… Did, but…" He sighs. "I… I misunderstood.. certain things about my faith. I was despondent when I came here, and not… Clear of thought. Having had time to reflect… Upon my faith and vows, it may be that when I am no longer needed here I will continue my quest."

I reach over and pat him on the arm. "Granting him the Duchy would be a matter for the king, though I'm not aware of any heirs of the former duke's line."

He shakes his head. "If I became duke, I would have to see to the appointment of a new Knight of the Realm to this village. Unless you wanted to take the Knight's Oath."

"Honestly, I'd be happy to hand over local administration, but I fear that we're getting off-topic. Lady Richilde, I think that's about all of it. Was there something that particularly concerned you?"

"Yes. Vampirism."

"I assure you that I'm not a vampire. Queen Khalida was killed by Queen Nerferata, and she hates all of vampire-kind. My point is that a vampire should be judged by the same metric as anyone else."

"No, though I am glad of it. I am asking because I do not see how a man could do all that you say that you want to do within a mortal lifespan."

I nod. "Not see it all to completion, certainly. I mean, if everything goes really well and everyone pulls together, I think the Empire's road network could be completed before my fiftieth birthday." I huff-laugh. "So maybe eight times that, optimistically. Wait, did you think I was planning on becoming a vampire so I could see it all happen?"

"I was considering it."

"Oh, no. No. The ring responds to my desires."

"It can make you immortal?"

"Do you see a single scuff, notch or other flaw in the door? Any gap between the tiles, the bricks or the flagstones?"

She frowns, looking around. "No?"

"No stains on the countertop?"

She gives her head a little shake. "I don't understand the point you are trying to make."

"I abhor decay. In civilisation, yes, but also in my environment and my person. I abhor things getting worse. I'm not doing this because I'm a moral person who has decided that it's the best use of his abilities in a 'with great power comes great responsibility' sort of way. I do it because… Have you ever seen a Herdstone?"

"No, but I have heard descriptions."

"It's viscerally disgusting. The first time I saw one I was filled with the certainly that things like that Should Not Exist. So they don't. Same thing with my body decaying. I can fix injuries to my body by my own revulsion at the thought of being damaged. So… Yeah. Daemon Princes and vampires are more immortal than me, but I don't have to worry about ageing to death."

Mallobaude looks at me quizzically. "I know that daemons who are physically destroyed return to the hell-realm that spawned them, but what mean you when you say that vampires are immortal? Any number of vampires have been slain in Bretonnia alone."

"Ah. Temporarily. You see, a normal person is connected to their own presence in the…" Not 'the warp', they wouldn't be familiar with the term. "The realm of magic. Their soul. It's connected to their body until they die, at which point it's cast loose. If they've made the appropriate preparations then it will be picked up by their god, and if they haven't then it'll just drift until a daemon consumes it. With me so far?"

Two nods.

"Part of the process of becoming a vampire causes the soul to be brought into the physical world and merged with their body. That's why vampires can't undergo Chaos-based mutation or be marked by the Gods of Chaos. But it also means that they can't ever enter an afterlife. Instead, when their body is destroyed, their soul is bound to their remains and gradually soaks up dhar until it can repair their body and… Then they're ready to go again. It's why I dump the bodies of the vampires I kill on Mannslieb, and why witch hunters who've got the time burn their bodies and mix the ashes with silver and quicklime before spreading it over a wide area. It's why other vampires put the bodies of their fallen in Black Coaches: so they can absorb power from death as they go and speed up their resurrection."

Lady Richilde's eyes widen. "Then every vampire… Even Vlad von Carstein and his accursed heir Mannfred-."

"Oh, Mannfred's already back. One of the reasons why I'm staying away from Sylvania is that he's one of the few people on the planet who could kill me."

At least until my armour's ready. Master Runes are not to be rushed. And assuming that I have time with everything else, because stabilising Sylvania is going to be a long term task. There's a smaller chance of him finding out about me than Malekith, so I'm not prioritising him.

"He's back?"

"Yes, but he's trying to unify Sylvania at the moment so it's not urgent. And if we get the roads set up we could reduce his access to dhar to the point where he can't raise an entire army. So what do I need to do to win the support of the Electors?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
16:36 GMT

The clay man with the unusually large head and eyes nods slowly.

"Yes, they came here. They purchased a few drops of divine blood from me."

I nod. "What sort of things can that be used for?"

As far as I can tell the majority of his body is made of unfired clay, with fired plates positioned like armour on his larger surfaces. His body is blockier and squarer in proportions than a living human, as if he was some sort of prototype for humans when our shared creator didn't quite know what he was going for.

"It is a powerful way to invoke the power or presence of that god. It has uses in any one of a million magics."

He gestures to a table of alchemical equipment with a sweeping gesture of his right arm, small cracks visible at the joints. The cracks are emphasised in several places by the fact that they're bleeding.

Cernunnos frowns at it.

"These are just a few of the ones I know."

Kon nods. "Did they say which ones they wanted it for?"

The clay man looks at the panther for a moment before returning his attention to us. Yes, he's only talking to us because Bast has okayed it, but I doubt that he's more loyal to one customer than he is to himself.

"Travel. A god of travellers."

"Which god?"

The clay man shakes his head. "An old, forgotten god, nearly faded from existence, little more than a bundle of ideas. Active gods are not so easy to take things from."

"Ghoulish."

"It's an existence."

"Were there any other elves around? White skin, riding insects?"

"Not that I saw." The clay man brings his right hand to his chin in the classical thinker pose. "Though I do remember seeing some large beetles in the area. I didn't think anything of it at the time. Beetle-themes are common amongst Kahndaqi gods, so it may be nothing."

It may have been, if several other interviewees hadn't mentioned it as well, while other merchants who we spoke to didn't.

"Thank you. I believe that's everything we need. Is there anything that we can do to repay you for your help?"

"Oh." He sounds surprised. "I thought that I was answering you under threat of expulsion."

"You are, but I might want to come back here at some point and I'd rather have better relations with people."

"That is wise. There is one thing I would like from you."

"Yes?"

"I am pursuing a project of self-improvement. I believe that your patron's blood would add colour to my life. I ask only for a small amount, and it will be purely for personal use."

"I don't know how to get blood from the Ophidian. But if you'll draw a contract with a personal use limitation you can have a few drops of mine."

"You are not a font of primordial power."

I reach inside and feel the lines and flows. Shapes corresponding to the tattoos on my body and to the power they were designed to evoke appear on my outer surface. And some I don't remember getting or can't identify. That's… I suppose that's working as intended, but it might be worth getting a check-up once this is over anyway.

The clay man's eyes widen further "Oh."

"Acceptable?"

He nods. "I will write the contract and seal it with appropriate blood." He walks over to his counter and takes up a piece of parchment and… He squeezes his right forefinger into a point, the very tip extruding blood as a pen extrudes ink.

I let my tattoos fade as his finger scratches out the terms and conditions. Kon walks over to me with a frown on his face.

"Giving someone your blood?"

"Not a good idea generally, but the contract will be bound with both our blood. The penalties for using it outside the agreed terms will be nasty."

The clay man nods. "My reserves boiling and baking my core from within?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of your reserves denaturing."

"How merciful." He scratches some more, then jabs his finger. "There." He walks over with the contract, and… Yes, plain language, and a quick ring analysis suggests that there isn't anything I'm missing other than the lack of an obvious explanation as to what the personal use is.

But that's his business. I open my snake-mouth and extend my fangs, then raise my right hand and prick the end of my middle finger. One spot of blood goes in the indicated spot on the contract, and-

"Here." He points to his forehead, the hard brow plate merging with the rest of his soft head clay.

I nod and reach out, resting my finger in a shallow divot on his forehead for a moment before pulling it away. The red-orange of my blood marks the centre point for a moment before the clay oozes up to envelop it.

"Aah. Thank you." His eyes shine a weak orange. "You are welcome to return to my shop again. I wish you the best of fortune with your elf-hunt."

"Thank you." I nod, and then lead the way out of the shop.

We convene in a huddle outside.

"Beetles. Cluracan said his sister was taken by insects, and insects were following them."

Kon and I nod.

"Who around here keeps track of insects?"

"They're probably Khepri's thing, and…" Some parts of Ancient Kahndaqi mythology are a little… Confused. "He and Atum are… Related, somehow, and so he'll probably speak to me."

"What about the god-blood? The blood of a god of travellers could be used to access places and bypass guards, but I don't think there's anything particularly terrible it could be used for."

"I'm sure that Mannheim's come up with something. There are all sorts of places we don't want him to get."

Kon nods. "Like the Tower of Fate?"

"Among other places. Ms. Panther, where is Atum's court?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th Sigmarzeit 2512
Late Morning

"…revolver design doesn't jam, but the automatic and semi-automatic pistol are more popular due to the greater magazine size."

I'm not a gun expert or an American, but I've been able to dredge up enough about gun design to interest a small number of engineers and the Imperial Gunnery School in Nuln. From above I could still make out the damage caused during the attack by the Chaos Lord Tamurkhan two years ago. I've also seen that they've made fairly significant efforts to improve public health, because they know perfectly well that Nurgle doesn't lose just because his war leader dies. Every germ in the world will be his herald and champion given the chance, and Elector Countess Emmanuelle von Liebwitz did not want to lose the peace.

"The great advantage of the cartridge design is that the time-consuming business of loading powder and shot are handled well before the battle starts, leaving the soldier with the simple job of removing one twelve-shot magazine and inserting another one." I have the construct demonstrate, though I can only remember roughly what it looks like myself. Not a lot of guns in suburban Britain. "Even having to slot in individual rounds in a revolver is far faster than using a powder horn."

My audience has grown from the small number of relatively junior engineers who came to listen mostly as an excuse to bunk off work to a larger group including a few more senior men. And they're actually listening rather than just scoffing.

"Now, for long arms, this is the most popular option just about everywhere."

An image of the AK-47 floats at the front of the lecture hall. Thanks to Jeremy Clarkson I do actually know a little about how this one works, though I've never personally seen one.

"Thirty round magazine, and there's a switch on the side to change from single shot to full automatic. The recoil from one shot resets the mechanism to the ready position and ejects the rear part of the round to clear the barrel. Anyone here left handed?"

A slight hesitation, then a couple of left hands go up.

"Do you see the problem?"

"Heh."

One of the senior engineers nods, smiling to himself.

I nod to him. "The problem with the ejection system is that while it throws the spent cartridge free if you're right handed, if you're left handed it ejects it right into your eye."

The sinister members of the audience smile awkwardly.

"Which isn't great, but the aim when they made this was to make it as mechanically simply as possible. A variable ejection mechanism would have been too complicated. Now, as for larger guns-"

I generate an image of a field gun from… World War Two, I think?

"-you can see similar principles maintained. The shells are made in a factory so that the crew can load and fire them faster. The gun has a mechanism for absorbing the recoil, and there are hand cranks for altering the angle and elevation built into the mechanism. Note also the armoured shield for the crew to duck behind and the spades anchoring the gun in place."

A senior engineer points at the image. "What are those wheels?"

"While thin wheels allow better speed over cobble stones, fat wheels of hardened rubber prevent the gun sinking in the mud while also letting them grip uneven ground better."

He frowns. "Rubber?"

I take a rubber ball I acquired in Lustria out of subspace and toss it to him. He reaches out to catch it, then starts in surprise as it bounces over his hand and into the row behind him.

"It compresses and bounces back. Where I'm from we use those as children's toys."

The junior engineer who fielded it bounces it twice, then notices his senior glaring at him and hands it over.

"Of course, heavier versions of the automatic rifle are also used at shorter ranges."

I don't know machine guns well, but I did see a picture of a Maxim gun at some point so I generate an image of that and add one of a Gatling gun.

"These feed rounds in on a belt, which also carries away spent cases. More advanced versions include a water-based system for cooling the barrel, because continuous firing like this causes it to get extremely hot."

That's nothing they don't know, but they're used to thinking of it in terms of warping the interior of the barrel if a cannon fires for hours, or making the impurities of the metal in the barrel cause an explosive misfire. Not in terms of the barrel setting fire to the people operating it.

I'm really not sure how much of what I'm saying is something that they can put into use. The revolver looks a little like Von Meinkopt's Micro-Mainspring of Multitudinous Precipitation of Pernicious Lead, aka the repeater pistol, but that still needs to have powder and shot loaded each time. But they understand the revolving mechanism. The round on the other hand with bullet and cartridge integrated into a single piece of metal is a genuinely new concept but it's one they can grasp. The British Empire started using the Maxim gun in the… Late nineteenth century? But the Empire isn't that far behind in its more advanced places.

I don't know. Maybe they can make it now, and maybe it's something that they can work towards while I check out whatever steam tanks they've got in the workshops. With a little applied ring power I've dredged up memories of how the early steam engine worked, so assuming that they're at least a little like traction engines I can probably talk the engineers through building them.

The door at the rear of the lecture theatre opens, and a few guards, Richilde and… A woman in her… Middle years wearing an excess of makeup and an open-fronted skirt. A prostitute, presumably, perhaps here to service senior engineers during their lunch break? I'd have thought that they'd pop out for that sort of thing, but perhaps they find the cost of delivery is worth it for the time they save?

Richilde beckons me as the prostitute walks to the edge of the upper deck and looks down at the engineers who… Are frantically muttering to one another, drawing diagrams or playing with my rubber ball. "If you gentlemen will excuse me, urgent business calls. I will be available for the rest of the day should you need me."

I dismiss my constructs and fly up-. She didn't get a local prostitute for me, did she? Or a courtesan? I know… In some places those are held in high regard, but I really-.

"Sir Paolo, may I present Grand Countess Emmanuelle von Liebwitz."

…

Seriously? Someone as rich as her should be able to pay someone to attach a drawstring to her skirt. Or advise her that a woman her age shouldn't show that much upper thigh in public. But I float in front of the railing she's leaning against and bow politely.

"Countess. A pleasure to meet you."

And your horribly horribly ill-advised dress.

"A new generation of firearms, Sir Paolo. I was under the impression that the Bretonni considered such weapons dishonourable."

"Knights of the Lady forswear the use of all ranged weapons, my lady. Fortunately, I have taken no such oath. Otherwise I wouldn't-" I wave my left hand. "-be able to fly."

"My engineers seem quite taken with your ideas."

"I don't know if they'll actually help, or if they'll just tear apart their workshops trying to build them."

She looks away, exhaling sharply. "'Tear apart their workshops'? It must be Bezahltag already. No, don't concern yourself with that. Concern yourself with explaining why you expect me to replace my province's entire road network."

"I would be happy to."

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th Sigmarzeit 2512
Late Morning

"It's that simple?"

I glance at Richilde, but she's keeping her face blank.

"Countess?"

"The roads, man." She gestures to the map on the table between us, which has gotten me a few mildly dirty looks from the… I want to say 'restaurant', but I'm not sure that 'club' wouldn't be a better description. It's very clearly situated near to the expensive part of the city, is richly decorated and doesn't exactly appear to be interested in a high density of clients. "You're saying that if we do this we can stop worrying about the forces of Chaos entirely?"

"I realise that it's a big-."

"If I hadn't seen the Tower of Hoeth's seal on the document I'd have had you thrown in the river like every other charlatan. Which of the Loremasters did you convince to put their seal to this?"

I like to think that Karl-Franz's seal on it also had an impact, given that he's the reason that she's an Elector Count over other claimants.

"High Loremaster Teclis."

For a moment her mildly curdled expression turns into something… Else. Uncertainty? Disquiet? But it's gone a moment later.

"Though I should emphasise that it's not just building the roads. The roads have to run along lines of hysh flows, and we have to build monuments at the intersections. And the effect isn't total and.. requires quite a large section to be completed before there'll be an overt effect. Ah, other than the.. normal benefits to travel from better roads."

She reviews the map of her province once more. "You've left several towns out of the network."

"If they're excluded, it's because they're not in geomantically significant locations. The road network can be extended to them, there just isn't any sort of magical benefit to it."

"Who made these calculations?"

"My point of contact with the Light College is Master Alric, though I've also have the work checked by the High Loremaster." And Djubti, High Liche Priest of Lybaras, but I feel that mentioning his involvement would be needlessly distracting. "Short of having a slann or an old one go over it, it's as good as it can be made."

"Slann? The toad-men?"

"They actually look more like fat lizards than toads."

The slann models from 5th edition looked like toads, and I remember the Drachenfels point of view part of the novel Drachenfels where he remembered the arrival of 'the toad men who came from the stars'. The oldest records the lizardmen were willing to let me see seemed to indicate that the old ones were somewhat toad-like in appearance, but the images could equally have been some sort of extinct servitor species or a different model of slann.

"Have you met one?"

"No. I was at the opposite end of a large room while a skink priest asked if I could petition it. It didn't respond, but I did get a good look at what it looked like."

I didn't try scanning it, because we were inside a warded building and the Temple Guard surrounding me were loaded with enchanted equipment. I couldn't take the risk that someone would object violently.

"What good would this do to me?"

"If it were fully implemented?" She just looks at me. "There would be no residual built-ups of dhar in the region. Necromancy and Chaos magic would be weaker and harder to use, mutation less common and certain types of innately magical monster would try to avoid the area affected. It would be more difficult for daemons to manifest and they would need more power to remain materialised. Hysh-based magic-."

"I wasn't asking what good it would do. I asked what good it would do for me."

Oh dear. "You personally would receive all of those benefits. You had a Chaos warlord-."

"Yes, I remember it well. The maggot did not need dark magic from my state; he brought it with him."

She's glaring, but I don't think I've entirely lost her yet.

"My intent is to ultimately extend the network to all parts of the world, but in the mean time it would also weaken dark magic in the entirety of the world, though the.. strength of the effect would be reduced by distance. I can't guarantee that building the network in your state would prevent attacks by Chaos worshippers. In fact I imagine that in the short term the Chaos Gods will incentivise their followers to attack places using it."

"So you want me to pay millions of crowns and devote our entire stone supply and most of my labourers in order to mark my state and my people out as targets."

"With the greatest respect, Countess, you're already a target."

"More of a target. You want me to go from being a target of a warlord once a century when one of the accursed scum managed to conquer the rest to being the only thing they target!"

I frown. "And… Small attacks are.. worse..? You'll have enough roads to move horsemen to counter their warbands wherever they are, and attacks like that wouldn't ever be able to threaten Nuln itself. Or even a walled town, really. And you certainly won't be the only target since I intend to prevail upon all Elector Counts to follow this plan."

Her eyes narrow. "Who has consented to this?"

"So far, just his imperial majesty, but I intend to try to visit everyone this week."

"One man."

"He does rather set the tone."

"He'll be swarmed by beast-tribes from the Reikwald before it's halfway complete."

Oh! Oh. Slow communications surprises me again.

"Not likely, Countess. They're all dead."

She blinks. "What?"

"How do you think I got him to agree to this? I sought out and destroyed every single tribe. Destroyed every Herdstone. Took a while, and I had to take his least popular minister along as a witness, but I got it done."

She frowns again, in puzzlement rather than irritation. "How?"

"I'm quite good at killing. Sorry, I realise that I should have led with that. I'm not used to information travelling so slowly and just assumed that you knew."

"You killed all of them?"

"Well, all the males. Female beastmen are fairly docile, so I moved them to land marked for farm development and set them to work instead. No problems so far. And I… Can't completely guarantee that a few human-looking ones didn't manage to flee. But they're not in the area any more."

"Are you willing to extend your services to me as well?"

I shrug. "I'm willing to extend them to anyone. If it worships Chaos, it's my enemy. If you know where my enemies are, I'll thank you for the information and then deal with the matter. If you want some particular group culled, just name them."

"And you can find them?"

"If you can provide a physical description and their approximate location, yes. Though it might have to wait until after this week. If I'm trying to get rushed meetings with the Electors, I can't guarantee exactly when I'll be available."

"We've had an upsurge of ratmen sightings since the invasion. I want them dead."

"The local warren or the entire species?"

She looks at my face for a few moments.

"Ideally, the latter, though I'll take it as a show of good faith if you manage the former."

"The species is on my long list, but I can handle the local warren…" Hm. "Actually, if you pull back your guards and ignore… Exactly how I do it, I can get started today."

She gives me a flat look. "What will I be ignoring?"

"Wide scale… Automata usage? Ill-educated people might say they're daemons or something… That's why I'm concerned. But they're very good at killing what I tell them to kill."

"That will be acceptable. But I want to see these 'automata' for myself first."

"Certainly, Countess. Shall we go now, or would you like time to prepare?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
16:47 GMT

The city of Bubastis is well behind us as we head towards the rising sun. Which is a direction in its own right. We just keep going in one direction and the sun will just sort of appear. I was sceptical, but several different merchants confirmed it so…

Okay, I guess.

The angle of the shadows from the statues lining the route are a rough indicator that we're going in the right direction, as it changes the closer we get. And if we went in the other direction we could reach the setting sun, and a third direction for the sun at its zenith. I thought that the passage of the sun in Kahndaqi mythology-.

"Oh."

Kon glances at me as he hikes across the sands. "What?"

"I just remembered how Kahndaqi mythology says that the universe was created."

"Oh? How? Is it made from the parts of an older type of god?"

I mean… Technically.

"It was wanked into existence."

He blinks, mildly stunned. "What?"

"It's a fairly self-explanatory description. Ra 'took himself in hand', caught his own semen, took it into his mouth and then-"

Kon gurns in disgust. "Aw."

"-he spat it out." I smile. "It was funny, because when I was in secondary school, we read about creation myths in English. But the sheet we got on Kahndaq didn't actually have the creation myth on it. I wondered why at the time, and it wasn't for years that I heard what the actual myth was."

"Are you sure it's… Literal? It's not just a metaphor for creating life?"

"No, but Adom said that they didn't literally believe that their gods have animal heads and we're currently two for two."

"What's wrong with having an animal head?"

"Nothing. Adom just said that it was more of a metaphor."

Cernunnos nods pointedly. Okay, yes, that isn't necessarily a difference here-.

There's a.. structure ahead of us. The statues are petering out, and the sand path flattened down by the march of other devotees sort of stops a good distance from the structure which looks a little like a stepped pyramid with the top cut off. The hieroglyphics big enough to see from this distance depict the journey of the sun from the underworld into the sky…

Ah.

"I don't think we should get any closer."

"Why not?"

"I think that's the hole which-."

And there's the sun! Blinking and looking away, I can see the shadows cast by a huge beetle as the fiery orb is hefted into the sky. I see a hand setting it in the back of a chariot… But the chariot isn't here, it's elsewhere, and the charioteer is completely invisible. And the sun's moving but it's also still here in… Some sense or other, because it's a core part of the identity of the god we're here to see.

Bloody bright!

"Lord Khepri, thank you for seeing us."

Kon, unsurprisingly, is untroubled by the sun being right there.

"Why do you seek me?"

His voice is pretty normal. It doesn't sound like burning, which is something I'm grateful for. It also doesn't sound like he's speaking through mandibles, which…

I try peering through the blinding light, and… I think there's the shape of a man in there as well as the shape of a beetle?

"We were hoping that you could tell us where the sheeda beetles were. They're really big beetles from the future, and they kidnapped someone we're looking for."

"I'm the god of morning, creation and new life. I may be a beetle but I'm not the God of Beetles."

"Oh. Ah, sorry. Do you know where-?"

"Coincidentally, I do know where they are, as they flew out of and into this gateway to the underworld and I saw them go."

"Great, thanks! Can we use it?"

"Do you really think that you can survive the wrath of Apep, his primordial antagonism for all ordered matter? All life?"

"Probably. I mean, sheeda insects are tough for giant insects, but we're all a lot tougher."

"I'm not sure that we're all a lot tougher."

"Can Apep leave the darkness?"

"Not until all light dies."

"So we wouldn't be endangering anyone else?"

"Apep has never shown signs of great intelligence. I don't think that it could learn from you, and if other beings are travelling this route anyway then it is too late to worry about that." Shadows shift as the sun is lifted a little further. "But you should know that I cannot recover your soul if you die. You will be utterly unmade, a state only fit for the greatest sinners."

I go to head up the structure's steps, but… Maybe I'm becoming blasé about things like this. This is hardly the only way we could continue the investigation. We could try baiting them back, or follow up one of the other prongs of the investigation.

Kon's already half way up the steps. Not just me, then.

"A moment."

"If you're worried about-."

His body swells with muscle and his horns shift shape from a stag's antlers to a bull's horns, and an eagle's wings sprout from his back.

"That should help." He starts forward. "Do your hunts always go like this?"

"It varies."

It's interesting. As I join them in the journey towards the top of the ziggurat I'm shielding my eyes against the sun but I don't feel particularly hot. I suppose a land that never knew snow didn't have the same positive association with the sun's heat that they did with the light.

"Ah, Superboy?" Kon glances back as we approach the summit. "There are other approaches we could take to this."

"The sheeda are flying through a place of primordial chaos with no trouble. It's like you and those aliens: bad people don't stop doing bad things just because we're fighting Anti-Life. I think we should do this."

"Alright." I look down at the… Hole to the dark place. It's completely dark. No sight, no scans. "I agree. Everyone ready?"

Two nods, and we leap into the void.

 

[Mr Zoat]

17th February 2013
16:51 GMT

Black sands in a black desert under a black sky, illuminated only by the light of my ring and Kon's built-in sun. Why? Don't know. The Ancient Kahndaqi didn't really have a concept of Hell. The ultimate punishment in their religion was annihilation, not eternal torture. That's what I condemned Theodore Adam to when I convinced the Kahndaqi gods that his soul wasn't up to snuff. Now, I'd pick Hell, because I think I could eventually get out of it, but I can… I'm intellectually aware that some people would choose differently.

While we can all fly here, we're staying relatively low because…

"I'm staying low because I don't want to be seen from further away. What's your excuse?"

Kon nods his head at the sky. "In case there's something up there. If there is, we're an obvious target."

"Because I can see where the beetles flew."

"You can?"

I can see giant beetle footprints and chariot wheel ruts, but none of the scuffs look like small beetle footprints, and I'd be surprised if they weren't flying. Ring, analysis?

Images flash across my visual field as the ring tries to make sense of the shapes on the sand.

Results unclear.

"I'm a God of Hunting. There are faint disturbances in the air and impressions in the sand, and that's enough for my magic to work."

"Alright then. Which way?"

He flaps his wings, accelerating forwards. Kon and I match his pace.

"Do either of you know what Apep looks like?"

"Giant snake, but that could be a snake, a person with a snake for a head, or a metaphor."

"I've never seen him. If it helps, there are no giant snake tracks near here."

"I guess he's pretty powerful?"

"He's never managed to stop the sun once with over a million attempts."

"Yeah, but that's part of the story. There could be something about his nature that means that he can't actually stop the sun, but is great at doing other stuff."

"What sort of range can those flies manage undirected?"

"No idea. Honestly, I'm surprised that they can follow complex instructions without a rider. Superboy, did I miss an intelligence briefing?"

"No, they never showed that kind of intelligence."

"Magic? Possession? Cybernetics?"

"Sheeda don't use cybernetics, and-" Kon frowns. "-I don't think Britain has cybernetic brain implants designed for giant beetles."

No, I don't suppose they could have designed something for an entirely new species that quickly. And if they did, they still wouldn't have a reason to use giant beetles like that over a robot or an augmented soldier that could behave intelligently.

"I won't be able to tell if someone's inside the beetle until I can see it with my own eyes."

"I guess-." Kon dims, then looks down at himself in concern. Looking down, I can see that we're turning away from the sun's tracks.

"Are you alright?"

"I think so." He maintains pace, but looks with a degree of concern at his right forearm. "I guess the sun kinda… Can't exist in other places."

"If you feel like you're about to not exist, head back to the entrance and make your way back to Otherworld."

He nods. "I don't feel that different. It's just the light that's faded." He looks up at me and shrugs. "The other end is at sunset, right? It's not like the beetles want to come out the other side."

"No, I suppose-."

Life?

What was that? I heard something-.

"What?"

I've stopped in the air, staring in the direction I thought I heard… Something.

"Did you not hear that?"

"No?" Cernunnos is pulling ahead, and Kon looks from him back to me. "We probably shouldn't get-"

"No, you're right." I start flying again.

"-distracted." He flies after Cernunnos alongside me. "Hey, is Mercury still with you?"

Ah. "Don't know. Mercury?"

There's no response. Kon looks back towards the entrance.

"Oh no! Anyway-."

Life?

"Seriously, can you not hear that?"

"No. What is it?"

"It's saying 'Life?', but there's a resonance to it…" I accelerate, catching up with Cernunnos a moment later. "Any idea how far we're going?"

"They got closer to the ground. I think we're nearly there."

I generate construct armour, which… Goes awkwardly with my elongated neck. Kon's dimmed, but he's still all there. Okay, now we-.

Crunch!

A sheeda beetle slams into me, mandibles clamping onto my armour and squeezing as the beetle tries to push me into the sand! Cernunnos dodges the one that aimed at him while Kon counters with a punch that shatters its head and sends it tumbling to the ground.

"Push on!"

My head darts out and I bite the beetle, fangs piercing the weaker armour plates of its head and stabbing it in the brain! I pull back my head and twist, kicking off the corpse as it falls and flying after Cernunnos. "How close-?"

And then I spot it: two stone pillars behind an altar of some sort. The altar is made of light grey stone, with discoloured patches which suggest it's had blood spilled on it. The two pillars are decorated in the Aztec style and certainly shouldn't be here. If it's a portal then it looks like its inactive.

Life.

"The thing I heard, it's getting closer!"

Cernunnos lands next to the altar, biting his left hand and slamming the wound onto the stone surface. The gateway shimmers to life almost immediately.

"I heard it too!"

The beetle that attacked him makes another lunge, only for Kon to punch it in the thorax and send it flying. It flies about a kilometre-. And then sort of fades into a white cloud before vanishing. Kon and I stare at the point it disappeared-.

"Life."

"Through!"

The three of us fly between the pillars, and-.

Is… That… Themyscira?

 

[Mr Zoat]

4th Sigmarzeit 2512
Afternoon

"Not so docile, it seems."

I nod to the Countess. "No, it seems not. But I wanted to be sure."

The giant… Rat… Blob.. thing.. that's the only thing in the Nuln warrens that scanned as 'female', lies dead, a construct spear piercing it through the throat and out through its spine. It's about three meters long, with proportions halfway between a normal rat and a normal male skaven. I'd sort of assumed that this sort of thing was a specialised breeder variety, and its.. large womb, distended abdomen and eight warpstone-enhanced ovaries seem to lend a degree of credence to that idea. But I'd also assumed that such breeders were a Clan Moulder product rather than a natural part of their species, and that as such there would have to be at least some regular females as well.

Does the Curse of the Horned One spell turn women it hits into men? Or do females just not occur naturally amongst skaven and they have to breed with giant rats in the same way that beastmen can breed with livestock?

I moue as.. tiny hairless skaven infants start clawing and biting their way out of its vagina.

"Burn this abomination."

"Ah. I'm actually not very good at burning things."

I point, and the construct plaguebearers on perimeter duty step in and start stabbing. It's unedifying, but those are male skaven infants. There's a limit to how many Creatures of Chaos I can attempt to rehabilitate without spreading myself too thin.

A way behind us, I hear Richilde and one of the Countess's younger Greatswords keeping each other company in their ersatz vomitorium. The other Greatswords bear oddly-shaped scars which I've noticed amongst those who've survived one of the more unpleasant poxes, and I imagine that they got that surviving the aftermath of Tamurkhan's attack. After fending off an army of Nurgle-worshippers a giant mutant rat appears not to impress them. I haven't seen any sign of Nurgle's Rot in them, which is good because I don't have any idea how to remove a disease that infects the soul.

"Besides, I've removed the diseases from its body. It could be a fascinating object of study for your anatomists."

"Gruuubeeeeeer!"

The Greatsword with a beard down to the middle of his cuirass nods. "Countess?"

"Have the men clear the closest square and acquire firewood. I will have this… Thing and the others of its kin we recover burned where my subjects can bear witness."

"I'll see to it directly, Countess."

I feel it as my construct lanterns begin to return.

"All done, Countess. It might be worth filling in the passages, but the warren is uninhabited."

"And Gruber, find some volunteers from the dungeons." She looks my way. "Dungeon-delving is work for a not-yet-Free Company. They're far cheaper than adventurers."

"Yes, Countess. Will there be anything else-?"

"Get on with it, man." As he bows and then leaves she walks over to the skaven and prods it with the handle of her dagger. "Well, you've done it. You'll have my support in the Prime Estates, and I suppose that a more limited road-building program might be wise in any case."

"Thank you, Countess. I'll notify the Light College, so that their representative can liaise with your architect."

One down…

4th Sigmarzeit 2512
Later Afternoon

Graf Boris Todbringer peers at the severed, one-eyed head.

"No. Not him."

Since her brother is shortly to be marrying his daughter, Richilde thought that talking him around would be a straightforward business. I offered to restore his eye, but he wasn't keen on having his body unnaturally altered. Which isn't unreasonable, but…

I sigh as I toss the head onto the pile. "With the greatest respect, Graf, there are a lot of one-eyed beastmen in the Drakwald. Did he have any other distinguishing features?"

"He carried a whip and a sword."

But this is getting to be.

Ring?

Scanning. Scan complete. Matches available.

Just about every charioteer has a whip. Swords are even more common.

"Four horns or two?"

"Four."

Scanning. Scan complete. Matches available.

"Two big ones straight up and two small curved ones?"

He nods. "Yes."

"Excuse me."

I rocket away from Middenheim, heading for the Drakwald again. Target locked. Beastmen became their own army after I stopped being interested in Warhammer and I've got no idea if the beastlord I'm about to kill is at all important. But if it makes Todbringer happy…

There.

I raise my left hand, aiming at the large beastman standing next to the.. mutant dog thing. And fire! The beastlord is knocked back, his armour holding out against my shot surprisingly well. Fortunately it doesn't appear to include a gorget, so his neck disintegrates and I grab the trophy as the beastmen around him begin braying in alarm.

Hopefully, that's another one down.

4th Sigmarzeit 2512
Early Evening

"A… Head? A head! You got one-eye a one eyed head!"

Richilde and I nervously glance at each other as Elector Count Marius Leitdorf… Starts getting excited. His couriers appear used to it, in the manner of psychiatric orderlies who no longer start at sudden exclamations from their patients. His horse -which is standing nearby, in this second story room in the middle of his castle- snorts quietly.

"I am.. happy to get a head for you, your highness."

"Yes! I want to eat it!"

"I can cook as well?"

He lunges at me. "No!" He grabs me by the jacket, staring wide-eyes into my eyes. "I will eat it raw. Raaaaaaaw."

Probably… Best I make sure that it's completely clean, because if there's anyone who has the will to eat an entire head raw and the rank to ignore anyone who tries to stop him, it's Marius Leitdorf.

"Whose head, your highness!"

"Mine!"

…

Another glance shared with Richilde. "You want to eat your own head, your highness?"

"It seems about as reasonable as paving over the realm of Chaos." He releases his hold, then flaps his right hand at me. "Get on with it."

Hm. Well, actually…

I envelop his head in an orange glow. If I remove it piece by piece and replace it with a copy… I'll have to fake doing that to his brain, obviously, but that should be well within my abilities.

"Would your highness like a mirror?" I numb his nerves and then detach a portion of his neck while using constructs to maintain blood and air flow. "You may find this educational to watch."

He grins even more broadly, before pointing at a flunky as I slot the removed portion of his neck into a construct head mould.

"MIRROR!"