October 12, 2017

She leaned forward in the carriage, speaking over Ishmerai?s shoulder to the driver. ?The Tower of Gulshan, Old Market please.?

?Mira, what are you doing? It is well after midnight. I think this can wait until morning.?

Jewell sat back as the carriage started to roll down the circular drive, away from the T?n?bres estate, slouching across from the fretting knight. ?It cannot.? She had only stayed long enough with the vampire lords to thank them for their hospitality and the information they had offered--and promised Th?odore a dance another time when he insisted on seeing her to the door and pressed her hand to his lips--before making a hasty retreat.

?You really cannot think--?

?I don?t know what to think! But it could be her. That?s enough reason to be concerned, isn?t it??

?How is that even possible? Is it not more reasonable that someone is just using a very strong glamour? Or that the Night Court is deceiving you in some way? They probably want something from you.?

She twisted to stare out the window, scowling at a shade that waved to her as the carriage bumped and rocked back towards the city proper. ?That?s what we?re going to find out.?

?I just find it difficult to believe that she got out.?

What Ishmerai didn?t say, but what they both were thinking, was that he really hoped she hadn?t gotten out. Jewell leaned forward, her forehead touching the frosty glass. ?I know.?

*****

Three years ago...

Jewell brushed singed blue hair away from her bloody and bruised face with the back of her hand, staring down at her vanquished enemy. Two prison guards were affixing iron manacles to her wrists even as the woman writhed and hissed, attempting to bite one of them.

The Empress put an end to that with a high heel to her stomach. ?Oomph!? the air rushed out of her foe?s lungs.

?That?s enough of that. Just settle down. You?ve lost. And I cannot have you running around RhyDin. My RhyDin. I won?t. You will not destroy my city like you did your own. Just be thankful that I am not going to kill you. Maybe that would be more merciful, but I won?t do it. So you?ll stay here.?

The guards tightened her bounds, securing her legs as well. This did not at all deter the prisoner, who lept up as soon as the guards retreated, pulling her chains as far as they would go in her attempt to get at Jewell. The Empress did not back up, simply raised her hand to halt Ishmerai. The prisoner was stopped mere inches from Jewell. She smiled. It was a familiar smile, one she saw each morning in the mirror, although a little unhinged.

?Just wait and see, Jewellsie love,? she whispered. ?I?ll take your city just like I did my own. And then I?ll wring that pretty little neck of yours. Oh, it'll be so orgasmic to kill myself!? Her moan turned into delighted laughter as she tumbled back onto the straw that would serve as her bed for the foreseeable future.

Jewell shared a look with Ishmerai, who merely shook his head and preceded her out of the room. She cast one more glance over her shoulder at the other woman just before the solid iron door clanged shut behind her. She was sucking on a blood-soaked piece of blue hair, savoring it like it was candy, and humming. ?Enjoy your stay, Jewell.?

October 13, 2017

Jewell had momentarily commandeered Captain Gagnon?s office on the bottom floor of the Tower of Gulshan. It was a well appointed but rather spartan room. All the furnishings and decorations were functional. Practical. The small plant she had sent to the Captain last winter as a gift was nowhere to be seen, but Jewell didn?t have time to fret about its fate just now. ?I need you to get the truthseer in here. You know, the new girl? What?s her name??

?Ila,? Ishmerai supplied. He knew everyone who worked for House of Summer.

?Right. Her. Get her in here. I want to make sure none of the guards had anything to do with this.? She turned to Captain Gagnon, who was bristling at the insinuation that one of her guards had been complicit in this crime. Alix Gagnon had rushed from home at Jewell?s call, yet the buttons of her jacket were done to perfection, and there was no sign of bedhead in her slicked back hair. She was neat. In control. The perfect captain. And she was receiving a dressing down from her commanding officer. ?Why didn?t you notice this sooner??

She didn?t take it well. ?With the failing of the Veil and the growth of Faerie Wyldes, it was impossible. It interrupted all our security measures. Even the ones you insisted upon,? Alix responded defiantly. She was on Jewell?s payroll, but she never cowered before the diminutive Empress. ?After the summer solstice, we assumed she was just acting a little stranger than normal. She tried to escape, and she kept screaming, ?I don?t belong here!??

?Why didn?t you send me a notice of these incidents??

?I did, Lady. Several, in fact,? she added testily.

The faerie colored. This was what happened when she didn?t pay enough attention, but Ishmerai was supposed to notice. He was supposed to be paying attention when she was not. She looked at the knight.

?My apologies, Mira. I received Captain Gagnon?s notices, but I did not think anything of it at the time. I trusted to her oversight in this matter when I should have followed up myself.?

She met his eyes, teeth working at the inside of her cheek. He was not really at fault. She was at fault. Ever since February, she had been too wrapped up in her own head to mind her business. Jewell nodded curtly, turning back to the Captain. ?My apologies, Alix. You have been a valuable asset to our House, and Gulshan has never been in more capable hands. I will handle this situation from here. Please just do one thing for me??

The Captain nodded, pacified by the praise. ?Of course, Empress.?

?I need you to go through the other prisoners. Make sure nothing else is amiss. Make sure she didn?t take anyone with her on her way out.?

?Certainly. It will be done immediately.?

Jewell breathed a sigh of relief. ?Thank you. Also, provide the girl--she said her name is Alyse--with accommodations for the evening. Secure accommodations. I need to question her more, but that can wait. I?ll send the apothecary over to examine her, and then Ishmerai will likely come for her in the afternoon.?

Captain Gagnon bowed her head. ?It will be done.?

*****

It was close to dawn, but Jewell couldn?t sleep. Still in the dress she wore to meet the Night Court the previous evening, she sat at the dining room table, one leg tucked beneath her. So many important discussions happened at this table. At the moment, she was leaning against it, scooping up soggy Loopy Fruit cereal and chatting between mouthfuls. ?The good thing is that she?s been out all this time and hasn?t caused any trouble.?

?No trouble? Mira, I have been telling you for months that something is amiss. Your people have been telling you. The vampire court just told you!? He ticked things off on his fingers, ?The organizing of the fae who came over at Midsummer. The resurrection of the Fae Dynasty. Unseelie running loose in the streets. Attacks on mortals. More and more people leaving Little Elfhame. More people staying in Little Elfhame yet failing to pay their community tax.?

?Yet you didn?t put the pieces together!? she responded in anger, dropping the spoon into the bowl, splashing milk onto the tabletop. ?It?s all well and good to tell me something is amiss, Merai. But you didn?t find out what it was.?

His own frustration got the better of him. ?I am not a detective, Mira. I cannot do everything for you. You need to be paying attention too.?

She frowned, looking away. He was right. She had been too depressed. Too anxious. Too wounded to do anything about anything. ?I?m sorry. You?re right. I just??

?I know,? his voice was softer now. He came and took a seat across from her. ?You have been struggling. First with the Temple,? she shifted uncomfortably when he named them, ?and then the visit to Perihelion.?

?It?s not just the Temple, Merai,? she admitted slowly. ?It?s everything. The children. My magic. My name. Muirenn. The nightmares. Trouble in Faerie. Trouble in RhyDin. Kal. Does any of it ever end? It?s just all? it?s too much,? she said despairingly, her eyes welling with tears. ?And now?? She stopped short. Again. She stopped short of telling him that they were up against a fierce opponent that she didn?t stand a chance of beating because her heart was failing a little bit more every day. ?I just wish--?

?That you had killed her,? he supplied.

No. That Kal hadn?t saved my life that night. ?I should have.?

?But you did not. And for what it is worth? I think you made the right call at the time.?

She smiled half-heartedly. His approval wasn?t worth much. Not now. ?Thanks.? She busied herself with wiping up the splashed milk with the edge of her napkin. ?I suppose we?ll have to do something about her, huh??

?You suppose??

Jewell shrugged, retrieving her spoon from her bowl and trying to fish up a few of the orange cereal loops that were bleeding their color into the milk. She wasn?t looking for a fight. Didn?t want to fight. She was tired. Worn out. Everything was too hard. Too much. These trials never ended. ?No. We?ll do something about her.? She ate another mouthful of cereal, talking as she chewed, ?I just don?t get it though. Why hasn?t she come after me yet? What has she been waiting for? What has she been doing all this time??

October 28, 2017

She spun the black piece of cardstock on the table, the point of one corner digging into her finger, watching the purple lettering blur together.

https://i.imgur.com/6GnLv1U.png

On the back was a personal note:

Jewellsie,

I?m so hoping you can attend my coronation! It just wouldn?t be the same without you there.

xoxo

Jewell

Coronation. The bitch was going to have herself crowned queen? Of what? Little Elfhame most likely. Jewell let the invitation flop onto the surface of her desk as she slouched back into her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose to ward off a headache that was already raging.

?I am glad we have the transfer spell set up.? The knight offered finally, having waited silently for her to say something for several minutes now.

?Yeah.?

?She has likely been planning this for some time??

?Yeah.?

He fell silent. Then: ?Which of the girls are we bringing with us to this particular disaster??

She forced herself to sit upright once more, dropping her hand and meeting his concerned gaze. ?None of them. Just you and me this time, Merai.?

Mallory hadn?t given the party any serious thought, beyond what to wear and how it fit into the Halloween night she?d already planned with Eri. She decided on the same suit she planned to wear to EgoTrip, complete with a black lace half-mask, a binder, and rhinestone jewelry and cufflinks, with her ?-inch hair barely long enough to be slicked to one side with product.

Eri had seemed enthusiastic about attending the party but had a pathological lack of imagination when it came to selecting them for herself. So the only nod to a costume the delinquent had worn was a similar half-mask. Her familiar jacket was turned inside out to hide its embroidered images in a sign of respect in an unfamiliar part of the district.

Nothing about the event aroused suspicion -- the glamour on the invitation felt exactly like Jewell?s, and a waterfront hotel sounded like exactly the kind of place where the wealthy fae socialite would throw a soir?e. Even the abandoned buildings their hansom cab clattered past didn?t turn her head. Change in RhyDin was sudden and chaotic, with every island of stability within that ocean standing as a monument to one of the city?s many bygone eras. Maybe La Mer was one such island?

It wasn?t until the cab stopped in front of the derelict building dancing with faerie lights that the first warning bell tolled in the witch?s head. ?This is the place,? the driver intoned gravely. They were at least a hundred feet from where the other drivers stopped, pulling up in ornate carriages adorned with flowers and filigree, or arriving on the backs of shadowy mares with wild silver eyes. Every set of eyes here was unnaturally bright, which did not surprise Mallory, but the level of mischief and malice that danced within them gave her some pause. The fae of Little Elfhame were more restrained, at least enough to coexist with a mostly mortal city and do business with them, but the way eyes narrowed, nostrils flared and lips curled felt less like they wanted to do business, and more like they were considering exactly how she should be dressed and stuffed.

?This seems a little? old court,? she murmured aside to Eri, ?so let?s stay close, don?t take anything you?re offered, and if I start acting strange? Slug me and drag me out. Dead serious,? she added, her pleasantly sly curve of a smile unwavering as they walked arm in arm to the entrance.

Eri seemed aware of the scrutiny on them as they approached the hotel, the stares she received a little more hostile over the curious half-oni in the faes? midst. However, her expression remained curious, and she kept a faint smile in place. Her head nodded once when she heard Mallory?s instructions: ?I understand.?

With that, the pair proceeded inside, as the half-troll doorman turned his disinterested scowl into an unsettling leer?

((Written with Eri's player!))

Mallory?s heart was pounding in her ears as she and Eri walked backwards very slowly, away from the nightshade-crowned woman who wore Jewell?s face. ?Oh, there you are!? There was little of this madwoman?s rambling that the witch could hear over the blood pounding in her ears, but these pierced the wall of noise with a spike of fear. Thankfully, Belladonna had not meant either of them; however, the fae they brushed past on their slow path out looked at them with gazes of disgust, hatred, curiosity, and malicious interest?

What sounded to be ?criminal? fae, beings sprung from captivity or returned from exile, were being paraded between the Jewell she knew and her unsettling twin, and the distraction afforded the pair of outsiders a little less attention. Mallory forced her expression into an unfelt smile as she struck the back of her left hand against her thigh and murmured to Eri: ?Katto... katto...?

She hoped the fae here didn?t understand Japanese, much as she hoped she had gleaned the correct meaning of the word she?d heard Eri and her teammates throw around in the kitchen and at the butcher shop.

Eri had understood the word and the intent. A casual movement as if to adjust the jacket she was wearing had allowed her to discretely retrieve the small higonokami from inside the hem of the garment and conceal the stamped metal handle in her palm. By the time her hand closed over Mallory?s left, she had worked the sharp blade open enough to press the point into the witch?s palm, making the cut as soon as she tensed her fingers.

Mallory only needed a few seconds now that the blood was welling out of the fresh cut. Her hand was tense and ready, the shape of the spell with its ragged tear and lurching thrust across the Veil fully formed in her mind, and her blood sang with the power it required? but its silent song had drawn a growing number of gazes again, beings who scented the magic itself or simply the sweet promise of the witch?s blood, even as the crowd roared over the names of those wronged by Jewell, their darker impulses fed by the woman who now proclaimed: ?I am the true faerie queen of RhyDin!?

?Where ya goin?, girlies?? someone gaunt, raven-haired and silver-toothed snarled at the pair; in response to a simple jerk of this eladrin?s head, the long green fingers of a fur-clad goblin tensed painfully around her shoulder from behind. She wasn?t sure how many hands were grasping at her by the time her spell culminated, only that she had a firm grasp on Eri as they vanished in a rippling flash of silver and scarlet.

They felt the chilling breath of the dead and the sting of howling gray mist, glimpsed blackness and ghastly faces, saw flashes of their fellow passengers caught in a moment of panic, a pair of darklings shaken loose and letting out terrified screams as they were torn away, disappearing into the void?

?and then they were in an alley only a few blocks from the crumbling old hotel, tumbling free from each other?s grasps as they landed on mud and filth-slick stonework. Mallory smacked into the wall with her side, turning to face the razor-wielding goblin and the raven-haired eladrin, two hostile passengers who had survived the journey and now stood between herself and the delinquent.

****.

Eri slipped on the slick stones and went to her knees, dropping the small knife she still held. When she saw the razor-wielding goblin near Mallory, she did not take the time to search for the small blade, instead getting to her feet quickly to close the distance. Seizing its weapon hand and applying a wristlock, the delinquent used the leverage to throw the goblin to the ground. Once she had the favorable position, the delinquent wasted no time: she began gleefully stomping the creature?s head under heavy hobnail boots.

The eladrin wasted no time on the goblin falling under the delinquent?s ruthless attack, moving past the pair to the woman who seemed to be their means of escape. He flicked an empty hand at Mallory and a sharp-edged shadow flickered in the air, dissipating across her midsection and biting into her skin in a long, bloody line. ?Vindicta,? she hissed at him as she clutched the wound with one arm and hobbled back from him.

He only smiled at the retaliatory wound that tore across her chest, flashing a shining silver smile at her as he closed the distance, one grasping hand filling with a flickering, shadowy mass, but her spell of retribution had only taken a single breath; her next spell was finished before he could reach her, as writhing black tendrils melted out of the stonework and lashed around his limbs, pulling him roughly back against the wall. He merely grunted at the impact, and smiled even wider as he pulled against her eldritch shackles, snapping one after another into little wisps of shadow?

Crunch! A final stomp from Eri?s hobnail boots finally caved in the goblin?s skull, leaving only one foe for the two of them to contend with? a foe who was already pulling himself free from Mallory?s restraints, whose open wound was already sealing itself, and who did not seem the least bit intimidated by the prospect of facing the pair of them alone. ?Stay a while and play with Ol? Jack,? he growled as he dropped back to the ground to advance again.

It could have been pure arrogance, foolish bravado on his part, but the witch wasn?t about to take any chances. She stretched out her hand to the blood-spattered delinquent and cried out her name: ?Eri!?

Eri didn?t hesitate when she heard Mallory call her name, lunging over to take the witch?s blood drenched hand. Old Jack was lumbering towards them, silver-capped claws outstretched, but he arrived a moment too late; the witch grasped the delinquent?s hand, folded an arm around her, and they blinked out of sight again, leaving the sadistic eladrin grasping at empty air and screaming in rage.

((Adapted from live play with Eri!))

November 1, 2017

They worked quickly. Despite their earlier conversation, despite Jewell?s admittance that she was dying, there was work to be done. So they did it.

?Move the couch over there,? she ordered Ishmerai, consulting the book in her hand before setting it on the side table and pushing her favorite reading chair out of the way with a grunt. ?Ugh, why is it so heavy??

She didn?t really expect an answer. Ishmerai was busy rolling up the plush rug that usually covered part of the living room floor, revealing the intricate design--a mixture of markings and words in a foreign language--on the wood floors beneath. ?Okay, touch up these marks and check the ones on the ceilings in the outer rooms. I?m going upstairs and check to make sure the ones there are all set and then we can go down into the offices too.? Grabbing the book and a paintbrush, she dashed up the stairs. The silver gown she wore to the faerie coronation was hiked up to her knees, the train thrown over her arm so she didn?t trip.

Twenty-five minutes later, they were ready.

?Are you sure you have enough strength for this?? Ishmerai asked, watching her from off to the side.

?No,? she admitted. She was standing where the rug used to be in the living room, as close to the center of the penthouse apartment and the offices on the floor below as she could get. She was also at the center of the markings and designs they had made throughout all three floors of the Mills at Little Elfhame building, just as the teleportation spell said.

Transference of Property

A spell for moving all belongings from one physicality to another.

On a small scale, like moving a room worth of stuff or even a tiny cottage, it wouldn?t require that much energy. However, Jewell needed to move the entirety of her penthouse apartment and everything in the House of Summer Inc. offices downstairs.

That was a bit trickier. Even moreso when she had a heart rotting inside her chest.

The Empress adjusted the silver dagger in her hand. Blood would make this easier. More powerful.

Less likely to blow up in her face.

?But it needs to be done, sooo?? Jewell took a deep breath. ?Here we go.?

She dragged the silver blade across the palm of her left hand and crouched down, pressing the welling blood into the heart of the ritualistic design. ?Kelva Ilya Sii!? She poured her energy and might into the words while her blood gave the spell the rest of the power it needed.

The markings throughout the building lit up with a bright, silver glow. The room around the pair twisted and warped; reality shifted around them as magic whisked all the contents of the room away to be deposited in the exact same position and placement (or as close as possible) in the secret bolt-hole she had established weeks ago. Pop pop pop! The couch. The rug. The dining room table. Pop pop pop pop pop! Every object in Sapphire?s lab. Each item of clothing in Jewell?s closet.

The process went on for some minutes before the spell began to fade and reality settled back around them. The rooms were bereft of objects. The walls bare. Jewell was breathing heavily, and Ishmerai stood by, watching her with apprehension.

?It work?? she asked breathlessly.

?Seems to.?

?Oh? good.? She collapsed onto her knees and he rushed forward to assist her. ?I?m fine.? She took a deep breath. ?I think. Is the room still spinning??

He frowned, ?No.?

?Oh... maybe I?m not fine. Help me up.? She offered him her blood stained hand, thought better of it, and then held out the right one instead.

He easily pulled her up off the floor for the second time this evening. ?We should get going.?

?No,? she shook her head. ?I want to stay and watch.?

Ishmerai opened his mouth to argue, but quickly relented out of curiosity himself. They could get away later. So for now, he helped her into what had been her library so they could watch at the windows of the empty penthouse apartment in Little Elfhame, waiting for Belladonna to take over.

November 16, 2017

They strolled arm-in-arm through their new (but hopefully temporary) home, stopping now and then so he could point out some addition or change that had been made since she had last visited.

?They finished restoring the tile in this hall yesterday.?

?It looks nice. I?m glad they finally removed all the wrought iron too.? Jewell ran her hand along the banister lining the large staircase at the heart of the building; it was in the same style of the original but made of a metal more friendly to the new, fae inhabitants.

A month ago, immediately after discovering that dear Belladonna had escaped from the Tower of Gulshan, Jewell and Ishmerai had gone on a somewhat frantic search for a location that could serve as safe haven, temporary home if the need should arise, and headquarters for House of Summer, Inc. Several places and ideas had been quickly rejected: an old abbey east of the city; retreating to Faerie; a warehouse in Dockside; finding a haven off-planet; a rustic little village close to Mount Yasuo; a building that changed locations every night.

Somewhat desperate, they had heard about the old sanatorium, settled in the mountains far north the city, by lucky chance. When they had wandered the grounds, already blanketed by snow and surrounded by sleepy evergreen trees, and ventured into the long-abandoned building, it was obvious that it fit their every need, being both large and extremely secluded. The nearest village was a small thing tucked into the valley below, inhabited by humans too frightened of the ghosts that haunted the old hospital to dare approach it.

Ishmerai worked with the barrister to procure the property as discreetly as possible while Jewell easily cleared the place of all but a few ghosts. Then it had been a race against time to have the building at least somewhat habitable before Belladonna struck her blow. Work was still ongoing, but it had come along far enough that Jewell had been able to move all her belongings and the offices in following the disastrous Samhain ball.

Almost two weeks later and she barely recognized the place.

?Yes. Everyone is more comfortable without the iron. Obviously. Oh, I almost forgot. Lamont wanted you to know that all the offices are finally in order now.? She wanted to wipe that smug little grin off his face. Her transfer spell had not gone off quite as well as she had hoped. Everything had made it from The Mills at Little Elfhame to the old sanatorium, but some of it had landed upside down. Paperwork? everywhere.

?Yeah yeah. Tell him that I?ll remember to tape the boxes closed next time, all right?? He just laughed. Brat was lucky she didn?t push him down the stairs.

When they reached the lofty foyer, Jewell made for the front doors. ?Wait. This way, Mira. I want to show you one more room.?

?Oh,? she didn?t quite hide her disappointment. She wanted to tour the grounds again. ?Sure.?

?It will only be a moment,? he promised, ?but I think you will like to see this.? He lead her down the large hallway that ran the width of the building, pushing open a set of double doors at the end.

?Oh Merai?? They were in a large, empty atrium. When they had first seen it, all the glass had been broken, littering the tile floors like stardust. Every single pane had since been restored, granting a beautiful view of the face of the mountain towering high above them and the valley below. She released his arm, stepping further into the room and spinning around slowly to take it all in. ?It?s??

He smiled, clearly pleased by her reaction. ?I knew you would like it. I had them delay finishing the kitchens because I wanted this done first for you. We thought you might like a fountain at the center, and they will be bringing plants in later this week.?

Yes, that sounded perfect. Here was a place where her heart could be at rest. Where no trials could trouble it. ?That sounds wonderful.?

Although loathe to call her away to duty so soon, there were matters they must discuss: ?Should we go for our walk now? We can go over the plans for the atrium later if you would like.?

?Mmm,? she nodded, giving one last look at the room before turning back to Ishmerai and stepping close enough to tuck her arm around his again. ?Yes, we need to talk.?

*****

The quiet of the woods was a nice change from the hustle and bustle of the city and the Real World house. There were walking paths criss-crossing the property: up, down, and around the mountain. They took one that had a gentle incline for her sake, their boots not leaving even the hint of an imprint in the freshly fallen snow.

The air was so fresh and clean here. It was invigorating.

It cleared her head enough to plot and plan.

?Unless you want to be totally out of sight and stay here,? she made a face and he carried on, ?which I know you do not wish to do, then I think you were right. That television house is one of the safest places for you now. In a way, you are hidden in plain sight.?

He was blessed with a sweet smile. She did so love being right. It fell quickly though, ?I know. It?s just? how can I stay at that house while my community suffers under her hands? How can I not do more to stop her? It?s so? maddening!? She glanced up at him. ?Do you think there is anything else we can do for them??

Ishmerai shook his head. ?The girls are already out on patrol more than they should be. They are exhausted but determined to keep going. Perhaps when you are in better health??

?Maybe in the spring,? she ventured, not wanting to really give him hope but doing it anyway. Ishmerai was still in denial. He had made several appointments with different specialists for her next week--cardiologists, heart surgeons, and healers--in the hopes that someone would have better news for them. He refused to believe that Jewell was not going to get better.

Which was fine. Jewell was the queen of denial, and she didn?t really want to believe it either.

?Yes. Spring. Things will change with the Spring Equinox. I just know it. All the signs point to it, Mira. So if we can just keep them as safe as we can until then, everything will be fine. We can oust Belladonna. We can rebuild Little Elfhame. Our people will come out of hiding.?

She squeezed his arm, ?That sounds great.?

Buoyed by her agreement, he prattled on with grand plans for the future, all too happy to pretend that she had one. ?I think we should have the builders tackle the baths you wanted set up in the basement next instead of the upper floors??

November 23, 2017

?Pass the peas down to Aristolochia. Her plate is looking far too clean.?

?Oh no, I swear I couldn?t eat another bite!?

?You must take more wine, Lord Arnolf. It is simply divine.?

?Maybe just a little.?

?Another slice of breast for you, Welwitschia??

?Mmm I really shouldn?t but? oh well, why not? It is a holiday after all!?

The br?naidh dashed around the table, fulfilling Belladonna?s every command and suggestion. They served their queen with efficiency. Silently too. Of course, that was more because their tongues had been removed (naturally, she had done the work herself) and the stubs left behind had been capped with a piece of cold iron.

Their life expectancy was greatly reduced as a result, which was rather inconvenient because good help could be so hard to find! But she also couldn?t have her favorite servants spreading her secrets, could she? No, that would not be tolerated.

?Hmm hm hm now what would I like more of? Oh yes, I know. Carve a little more off the inner thigh for me. Nice and thin now. I like my meat lean.? When the br?naidh slid the meat off the knife and onto her plate, Belladonna cut off a small piece and took a bite. ?Mmm so tender. She really is absolutely delicious, isn't she?? She looked fondly upon the roasted body at the center of her Thanksgiving feast. The young woman really hadn?t been much fun to hunt. Her pair of coin-s?th had gotten to her first, unfortunately. Almost tore her to pieces. Still, it was a lovely way to spend a holiday and the meal was scrumptious. ?Nothing compares to fresh meat. It just melts right in your mouth.?

November 28, 2017

Jewell followed the nurse as she lead her to Eva's office even though she knew where it was. Apprehension had her fiddling with the end of her scarf. She had been to a lot of doctors in the last few weeks, but it had been over a year since she had been here. At least she wasn't bleeding profusely this time, and she didn't have a bolt of iron through her shoulder.

No, just iron in her heart.

The nurse knocked on the office door and opened it, allowing Jewell to pass her with a nod of thanks and enter, reserving her smile for her friend. "Hey."

Eva rose from where she had been sitting behind the desk. She was dressed casually in black pants and a dark top, but she wore her white doctor's coat over it---a reminder of the professional setting, despite the fact that she stepped towards Jewell to offer a kiss to her cheek. "Hey." She smiled. "Good to see you."

She traded her in a kiss to her cheek before taking the seat reserved for patients. "Good to see you too. Did you have a nice holiday with your family?"

"Yes, thank you." There was a bit more light in her eyes as she nodded. With the door shut, Eva retreated to her side of the desk and settled in. "You did something with the team?" She might be watching episodes on her vidstream.

She smirked, "Yeah.. something all right. We just kind of hung out. I got turkeys for everyone to pretend hunt in the backyard, but we ended up eating one." Jewell shook her head, smiling fondly, "They're something else. Miss having you on my team though."

Eva smiled. If they had more time together, she would have been more honest. Instead, she just deflected. "Next year." She swiveled slightly and tapped on her pad. On the large flat screen on her desk, Jewell's records popped up. Other than being obviously her records, it was impossible to tell what it all meant. Eva glanced at it before looking back at Jewell. Drawing a pad of paper near her. "I've had a chance to look over your records. But why don't you tell me what brings you here?"

Her smile was more grimace as the conversation shifted, but this was why she had come here. They could have drinks and talk about her bad life decisions and the Real World house another time. She sat towards the edge of her seat, as if ready to run, and resumed playing with the end of her scarf. "Right. Well, I guess you saw that the iron... it's pretty much destroying my heart." There was no need to sugar coat it since Eva had seen her records. All of them. "They seem to think it's going to be fatal, and I was just wondering... I thought maybe you'd see it different or something."

She fell silent a moment. Then she leaned forward a little. "Your iron levels are high, yes." She reached up and turned the screen towards Jewell, then tapped to a 3D imaging of her heart. It was black and white, with white numbering along the bottom and right side of the image. And there were dark spots on the image of her heart. "And yes, there are signs of stress and damage, here... and here." Showing her on the image.

She chewed at the inside of her cheek, brow furrowed as she leaned this way and then that to examine her own heart. It was a strange experience, seeing it outside of her body like that. She slouched back on the chair. "When I first was hurt, they weren't sure what would happen. Weren't sure if there would be lasting damage. Now they say that the iron basically killed whatever it touched, even though it wasn't a lot, and it's spreading like a cancer does." Jewell stated it calmly, matter-of-factly, eyes on Eva and not her heart.

She knew how disconcerting the image could be, but she thought it was important for patients to see it. Now, she swiveled the screen back so it was more difficult for Jewell to see, and she flipped to a different page of the records, one that was all text. "There's a condition that afflicts some humans, where their bodies cannot process iron. Hemochromatosis. Has anyone ever spoken with you about that?"

She shook her head. "I don't think... I mean, I've never heard that term? But most fae are allergic to iron. It burns us. Like, I can get an actual burn on my skin from it if someone touches me with it? And just being around too much of it makes me feel ill. It's why..." she was twisting the frayed edge of the scar tightly now, "that's why it worked so well in stopping me last year. That's why Kal used it."

Eva nodded, "Yes, I know." She didn't seem at all offended by Jewell's attempt to inform her. But it wasn't necessary. "Looking at your test results... comparing your condition immediately after you were first hurt to your recent labs... I can't disagree with the other doctors." Like Jewell, she spoke calmly and without alarm. "Iron is building up around your heart, and the muscle tissue of your heart is slowly and dangerously dying." There was a yet to be spoken 'but' there, however.

She took a deep breath in through her nose, almost like bracing herself for a plunge into cold water. "So that's it then?" Jewell was trying to draw out that so important 'but'. She had told Ishmerai the fight was over. She told Cane she was out of time.

But she wanted to be wrong.

"No, Jewell, that's not it." Her brow furrowed. "Did your doctors talk to you about the possibility of a transplant?"

"The one..." she rubbed the heel of her hand into her temple. "Mother of Nature, I don't even remember which. They're all blurring together. One did mention it, though. There seemed to be a lot of complications involved? And possibly a problem with even obtaining a suitable heart. It'd require surgery, right?"

Eva nodded. "Yes. And it would require a pretty dramatic life change." She paused to give Jewell a moment.

"Life change..." she repeated, a sinking feeling slowly weighing her down. "Like what?"

"There's a pretty heavy-duty anti-rejection medication regime. Somewhere between eight and twelve pills a day. Another long recovery period with limited physical exertion. Low-fat, low-sodium diet. Absolutely no recreational drugs. Limited drinking." She had a feeling that last one might be difficult.

Jewell cringed. "I mean, I already can't drink much right now, but that would be for life? Which they also said might not be that long anyway, right? I could go through the whole thing and then still not live long?"

"Rejection is possible." Eva nodded. "A transplant does typically shorten the recipient's life span. But there are things that can be done to try to keep your new heart as healthy as possible for as long as possible."

She had leaned forward again at some point, eager to hear the hope Eva was holding out to her, but she fell back in the chair now. "Well... fuck. I mean, it sounds good, maybe? I don't know. No offense, Eva, but sometimes this 'modern'," she even made air quotes, "medicine stuff just sounds crazy."

"Mm. Well." Then brace yourself. "I asked you about hemochromatosis earlier because for humans there is no cure for the condition, but I know a cybernetics researcher in Star's End who has developed a nanobot that has been showing some promise in processing the iron in humans with the condition." She watched her still. "I consulted with him, and we both think there's a possibility that his protocol might be able to help you."

Her eyebrows shot up, her sudden smile somewhere between incredulous and 'Are you joking?' "It's a tiny robot?"

"It is, yes." She didn't smile. This was such a small hope, she didn't want to give Jewell the mistaken sense that this was about to save her. "What it does is essentially surround and remove iron from your system. For you, it might stop its negative effects." Eva shifted and leaned forward. "There are several things to keep in mind if you consider something like this."

"It won't reverse the damage already done to my heart, right?" She nodded slowly, thinking she had the gist of it. "Or maybe not even stop the dead tissue from spreading?" Her fidgeting with the scarf had become more idle as she found something somewhere over Eva's right shoulder to stare at, trying to process all of this. "What else?"

"That's right. It won't reverse the damage. And we don't know whether it will stop the spread. We don't know whether it will work at all." She had to be honest. "The only way I would recommend this for you is if you do it while you pursue, actively," putting stress on that last word, "a possible transplant."

She could hear Sal in her head, ?A heart, a heart. We could give her a new one.? Jewell nodded again, forcing her focus onto Eva again with a faint smile. "Thanks. I think I'm going to have to think about that though. Fast, I guess.? She hesitated before just blurting her concerns out, ?It just seems like I could do all that and then, you know.. still not be okay. Or die anyway but only after having spent the last bit of my life desperately clinging to it."

Eva reached over and turned off the screen. Then she pushed aside her notepad. When she was done, she returned her full attention to Jewell, her hazel eyes fixed on her. "Jewell... you're my friend... one of my oldest. I don't want anything to happen to you. I don't want any of the things that have already happened to you to have happened at all." She paused for a moment, and drew in a breath. "But life doesn't come with guarantees. It is... it is random, and terrifying, and... and sometimes cruel. You may die." She nodded, her brow furrowed. "You could... you could spend the next three years looking for a donor and never find one. You could find a donor and reject the transplant. You could have another thirty years, and die of the flu in your bed. Or you could step out onto the sidewalk and be hit by Bobo's hot cocoa cart." She shook her head. "As your doctor, I can't make guarantees. But as a friend, I can guarantee that you won't go through this alone."

"Thanks Eva. That means a lot. You've always..." she lost her composure then, forced to take a breath that gave her a moment to fight the tears that were stinging her eyes and control the tremble in her voice. These weren?t just trite, meaningless words. She knew Eva wouldn?t let her go through this alone, and that meant more than a lot to her. It meant everything. "You've been there for me through? well, everything. And this? I just... I don't know. You know I'm a fighter, right? I don't know if I've ever given up on anything, but I'm just... I'm so tired. I'm tired of fighting. And this? It just feels like a losing battle. I don't know." She shook her head. "Maybe I won't feel that way tomorrow. Yesterday, I was with Cane and I told myself I'd do anything to fight for more moments like that. But it just feels like a decision that's too big. Like, what right do I have to even decide this for myself?"

"Jewell..." Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. Eva pushed back from her seat and came around the desk. She took the visitor's chair beside Jewell, body angled to face her friend, and she reached for her hand. She took a hold of it gently, but firmly. "Jewell, there's no decision to be made. You need a transplant."

November 30, 2017

?Stop.?

?No you stop,? Sapphire shot back in annoyance, shoving her shoulder. Jewell fell sideways against the pillows piled on the end of the couch, grabbed one, and smacked the younger woman with it.

Ishmerai sighed, ?Both of you need to stop.?

?She started it,? Jewell complained. The knight threw his arms up and walked towards the windows, staring out at the grounds of the sanatorium. Jewell took this as permission to proceed and tried to smother Sapphire, who was attempting to grab the pillow from her.

?I wouldn?t...oomph, stop it already!? Sapphire managed to tear the pillow from her hands, her face red and her hair a mess. ?I wouldn?t have needed to start anything if you would just be reasonable.?

?I am being reasonable,? she huffed, crossing her arms and angling herself away from Sapphire.

?No you?re not. You?re fighting in IFL. Drinking. Running around having crazy sex with--mmph!? Jewell had pounced, shoving a different pillow into her face.

?You need to stop babying me!?

Within an hour of arriving at the sanatorium, Sapphire had taken prompt control of Jewell?s care, fancying herself a nurse. There was a schedule of medications tacked up in the kitchen and a pantry stocked with heart-healthy foods (?I?m going to go get more diet recommendations from Auntie Eva next week!?). She had plans to talk to Hope about requiring Jewell to continue physical therapy if she wanted to stay on the team, and last night she had sat on her, refusing to let her leave for her fight with Koy until she did some deep breathing exercises, took her medication, and promised to be careful. Jewell had endured a long lecture when Sapphire had seen her swollen knee (a result of the fight) and heard her plans to go out dancing with Koyliak soon.

And when she hadn?t finished her asparagus with lunch.

It was too much. If she only had a few more months left to live, she wanted to actually live.

?Mira, she is turning blue,? Ishmerai remarked mildly, glancing back at them.

?Oh.? She dropped the pillow and reached over, fixing Sapphire?s hair for her. ?Sorry.?

She swatted her hand away. ?You?re impossible to take care of, you know that?? Jewell shrugged, grinning a little. ?Merai, how have you put up with this pain,? she shoved the faerie?s shoulder again, ?in the butt for so many years??

?With much endurance of spirit,? the knight replied dryly.

?Hey!?

December 2, 2017

There were so many things to discuss and consider after Mallory?s morning visit, including a trip into Faerie to find the relic (if it existed) that could save her life, but Jewell?s thoughts were oddly on Michiru and Haruka. ?Do you think they knew when they sent her here to me??

?I have been wondering the same thing. To deliver you the perfect donor, albeit several years too soon??

?I suppose I will have to ask them if I survive this.?

?You will survive, Mira.?

She looked out onto the grounds of the sanatorium, not feeling so sure. ?We?ll see.?

December 16, 2017

Years surviving and hustling on RhyDin?s streets, stealing most of her meals until only last Christmas, made Mallory rather adept at blending in and going unnoticed. She knew how to dress ratty but not too ratty, enough to be ignored without inviting people to wonder if her poverty would be a problem for them. She went without makeup and picked clothes that were frayed and faded without being filthy, and wore things like hooded jackets and unadorned hats that obscured her features without raising red flags by concealing them completely.

But Faerie posed a difficult challenge, because she was mortal and they were not. No matter how plain or unflattering her clothes, no matter how dull her demeanor, there were essential ways in which she could not help but stand out. The fae were known for being perceptive, too -- she couldn?t imagine that her own magical gifts would go entirely unnoticed, no matter how subtle her trinkets.

Still, she did her best. When she found Ishmerai in the sanatorium?s snowy garden, she was dressed as plainly as she could: black surplus jacket over a gray hooded sweatshirt and a black knit cap for her hair. Her jeans were old, faded but not patched, loose around her hips but not too baggy; her combat boots were black, a little muddy, and tagless. She?d even swapped out her backpack for something plainer, dark blue without a brand tag or any of the patches or battle scars that gave the other one its character. If she was carrying any of her usual trinkets, they?d been tucked out sight.

And the only touch of color on her face was the redness from the biting chill in the air. ?Hey,? she said to the knight through a little puff of cold breath.

Ishmerai turned from surveying the grounds, watching the sun come up over the valley below. ?Mallory,? he greeted her with a faint smile. They evoked the spirit of RhyDin in their contrast. She was dressed simply while he wore well-cared for, albeit plain, light, leather armor. The scales lingering along the sides of his face were brilliantly iridescent, as if shone to perfection in preparation of this trip.

The witch quirked a smile back at him as she stepped closer, and followed his gaze to the fiery glow spilling over the horizon into the valley. She wondered vaguely what the sun would look like in Faerie -- and if it would be anything like her trip to the well, before Lanuathen found her spirit?

?So, how are we doing this thing??

?Over here,? he nodded further into the garden before leading her away from the magnificent sunrise and along the snow obscured path, marked only by the passing of footsteps. At the end, there stood an old stone arch, overgrown with ivy. At some point, an out building clearly stood here. Now the arch was the only thing left visible in the snow.

He stopped in front of it, ?Fortunately, the situation is relatively peaceful with Jewell?s family at the moment. This will bring us right onto the Ta-Neer grounds, so we will not need to travel on the other side.? Merai glanced down to the young mortal he was unwillingly taking into Faerie with him. ?I will do my best to keep you safe, but please do not wander off on your own. Also, refrain from eating or drinking anything I have not examined first. You are under Jewell?s protection in a way, as a guest in her family home, and guest rights therefore extend to you. This does not mean they will not try to get you to break it of your own fruition.? He likely did not need to remind her of any of this, but she was essentially his charge once they crossed the Veil. He would not have harm come to her.

?And remember,? he turned to look back at the portal. ?They may be Seelie fae, but they are still fae.?

Mallory listened attentively to his words, though her gaze was pulled to the archway itself, her connection to the Veil drawn to this portal like iron to a magnet? ?Would it be offensive if I didn?t say anything at all?? she asked as she shifted her backpack around, and unzipped it to show him its contents. ?And I brought a big bottle of water? some granola bars? and licorice from Panacea. Let me know if you want any.?

The edges of her teasing smile softened as she added a gentle reassurance: ?I?ll be careful. And I?ll follow your lead. Closely.?

He nodded with approval at the food, but did not take her up on the offer. Yet. ?I would advise you against not speaking, but to do so succinctly and graciously when you do.? He paused. ?And do not be afraid to, as they say, ?lay it on thick.??

He offered her his arm, ?Shall we??

The witch?s lips thinned as she considered the archway, and the prospect of keeping her words both concise and over-the-top. She remembered how careful her words had been in the Feygarten at Beltane, and how much higher the stakes were now? ?Yeah,? she murmured, looping an arm through his and following him into the threshold.

* * * * *

They left winter behind in RhyDin and emerged in spring in one of the many gardens of Lorelei Ta-Neer. Behind them was a stone arch similar to the one in the garden of the sanatorium, but here it appeared to lead into a large corridor. Ishmerai glanced around to orient himself before touching Mallory?s arm and nodding, ?This way.?

Mallory struggled to keep her gaze from wandering across the sky and their surroundings. Even without looking, she could feel the change in the air, as the electric thrill she associated with magic permeated every inch of this place.

Ishmerai led them through a verdant, semi-wild landscape marked by paths here and there, lush with ferns and grasses, copses made for lazing under on warm days, and short stretches of lawns and flowers meant to be admired.

It seemed more park than garden, set in a possibly endless courtyard amidst the Ta-Neer estate. Archways edged parts of the perimeter, leading off into corridors and hallways, while several rooms seemed to spill right out onto the greenery. Despite the existence of the bustling seat of the Ta-Neer family right beyond those edges, the garden was quiet. Empty. There was not a minstrel or musician to be seen, no courtiers vying for favor, or even the hint of a servant. ?Our hostess wishes to meet with us privately for a moment,? Ishmerai explained, and Mallory nodded mutely as she fell in behind him.

They found Lorelei Ta-Neer near the sweeping branches of a willow tree that made its home along a small brook that cut through the garden. She sat upon a rustic bench, head tilted upwards and eyes closed as if listening to something: the breeze singing through the willow leaves. Crossing the bridge their path followed, simply made of branches thatched together, Ishmerai stepped across the grass, coming forward to kneel before her while the witch hung a respectful distance back. She seemed to know they were there, opening her eyes and smiling at the knight. ?Ishmerai, it seems an age.? She offered him her hand, which he pressed a kiss to before standing. ?You are well, I hope? I have often worried about you since you left us so abruptly after your injuries.?

The similarities to Jewell were striking--the shape of her face, the petite frame, the thick hair (black not blue) that fell over her slender shoulder in loose curls--but that was where they ended. Her green eyes were soft and kind. There was nothing of artifice or cunning in her expression. No hidden wickedness in her smile. Just a natural sweetness that had not always served her well in the politics of Faerie.

He smiled, ?I am as well as to be expected.?

?And Jewell? I see she did not come with you as I hoped.?

Ishmerai shook her head, ?It is the iron. She dare not come. They would smell it on her.?

?My heart grieves me to hear it.? Perhaps it was her glamour, but when Lorelei said that, all listening felt she truly meant it. ?She has sent me a friend instead??

?Yes. Lady Ta-Neer, may I present Mallory St. Martin?? He stepped aside, gesturing to the young woman who approached as soon as she was introduced.

?Mallory, well met and welcome.? Lorelei offered her hand, apparently intent on shaking the witch?s. ?I hope you find your time within my walls to your liking.? When she took Mallory?s hand, she studied her face. ?Such interesting friends my dear cousin makes. A blood witch, yes? A fitting companion for Jewell in many ways.?

Glamour was subtle magic, and Mallory found herself less skeptical of her motive and sincerity than she knew she should have been. How easy it would have been to trust this woman and tell her of her cares, as she clasped her hand and looked into her eyes? Concise, she told herself, reminded by Lorelei?s speculative remark. ?Thank you for the welcome. Your gardens are very beautiful,? she replied with a slight dip of her head. When Lorelei released her hand and moved her gaze to the knight, Mallory took a half-step back to allow them to lead the conversation once more.

?So you would like to use the archives, Ishmerai?? He nodded. ?If I was a different woman, I would have had all the resources that could assist Jewell promptly removed before allowing you access. Alas, for better or worse I am as unlike my sister as the sun and the moon. She was unceasing in her attempts to bring about our cousin?s downfall. I am not. I will not doom her to a painful death to secure my own seat. The archives are yours to peruse for as long as you need them. I also give you Chika, Ishmerai. She will assist you however possible.?

He bowed to Lorelei, ?You are, as always, kind and generous to the superlative degree, Lady Ta-Neer.?

The sweet, dignified Lady Ta-Neer blushed like a young girl, laughing. ?And you are always so gallant, Ishmerai. Perhaps one day I will succeed in stealing you away from my cousin.? He merely inclined his head as acknowledgement to the comment, and Lorelei turned her attention back to Mallory. ?Do enjoy my archives, Mallory.?

?Ishmerai.? The hissed name was accompanied by the heavy thud of an old, cracked, water-damaged sylvan tome dropping suddenly onto the edge of his desk.

The witch wasn?t even looking at him. She didn?t see him jump at the hiss or almost throw the book he had been reading. She was already flipping the sylvan tome open to a ribboned page, then a little anthology of children?s stories, and setting her notebook between the two. The facing pages were filled with tightly scrawled words, underlined terms, and roughly sketched maps and an image of a shallow, hand-carved bowl inscribed with something structurally similar to Greek letters.

?The Starlight Basin,? she whispered, tracing the rim of the bowl with her left ring finger as a manic smile curled her lips; then she tapped a matching image and description in the old sylvan tome. ?We discounted it because the place where it is kept, Evenmir, is a mythical island, something from children?s stories, a nonsense word? but only if you assume it?s sylvan. Instead,? she flipped to another marked section of the children?s book, ?it?s a giant name, from the Eastern Realm. Like Rodomir, Rievendar, Ostarnir? Translations calling the island Evermere aren?t a clue to its meaning. They?re a mistake. Evenmir, translated from the tongue of the giants of the Eastern Realm, means Death at Sea?s Edge.

?And in the fable of the giants, the Blind Huntsman crossed Anasuil, swam across the water, and made his last stand upon a rock, ?and slew the marauders ?til the sea grew red and still.? Why still??

The witch flipped to the back of the old sylvan tome, to the scattered maps of the Far Lands, and placed her finger upon a lake, separated from the sea by a thin, rocky strip of land. ?Because the bodies of the fallen giants cut the Eye of Sorrow off from the sea. And Evenmir is the island at the center of the Eye.

?The Eye of Sorrow is where fae who have seen too much tragedy go to drown--?

?Or go mad in the attempt,? he interrupted, following her despite the rapid stream of information she was throwing at him. The despair that had been slowly creeping over them as the day wore on lightened a little.

?Right? and in the Tale of the First Changeling, in the end she peers into the Starlight Basin and cannot remember her true face? and in her madness and sorrow, walks into the water to drown herself.

?You?ll find your relic on the isle of Evenmir, in the middle of the Eye of Sorrow, beyond the Howling Peaks in the Far Lands. It?s a long ways away, and this was a long time ago, but -- ? She flipped to another passage in the old tome and tapped it with her finger. ? -- ?Evenmir, where the Starlight Basin has stood ever since, kept by the dead, whose ranks will swell with the newly drowned so long as the Mirror Shrine stands.? If you want to know why the dead prowl the deep pools of the Holloway Marshes and pull people under?? She let out a short laugh and finally turned to look the knight in the eye. ??there?s your reason. Because the Starlight Basin is still there!?

*****

It had been a solid twelve hours in Faerie, most of it spent on research, when Mallory and Ishmerai trudged back through the gardens of Lorelei Ta-Neer. The fiery rays of sunset mingled strangely with the violet shades of a twilight sky, a final reminder of the time they?d spent in this magical realm -- and how strangely it may have passed once they crossed the portal. The witch?s backpack was laden only with the books she?d brought, minus her food, with the only addition being a few key passages of arcane lore she?d managed to copy on the sly?

?Ready?? she sighed to Ishmerai. Her mood was still buoyed by the breakthrough, but the reality of what might await them on the other side was setting in again.

The knight was burdened with several maps he had borrowed from the archives. He had to plan his journey and quickly. There really was no telling how much time had passed or how much time Jewell had left. ?Yes. We do not need to take our leave of Lady Ta-Neer. She will know we have gone, and I will pass on your very gracious thanks when I return.? He gave her a knowing smile.

Mallory blinked at him, then grimaced. ?Was it really that obvious? Goddammit. Well, I didn?t steal anything -- ?

Her words were cut off, and the wind knocked out of her, when they stepped through the archway, suddenly torn out of one reality and dropped into another. If her stomach hadn?t been so empty, she might have thrown up.

The sky was bright. The witch shielded her eyes with the flat of her hand, squinting up at the sanatorium walls that surrounded the courtyard. ?****, it?s morning again? So it?s been at least a day, right??

?Perhaps,? he looked around, unperturbed by stepping through the portal. The sun withheld the secret of the date from them. ?We should go inside. There is no other way to tell.?

All was quiet inside the sanatorium. They wearily tromped up to the fourth floor, where Jewell?s private apartments were. Sapphire was in the kitchen, making pancakes for the groggy faerie who was slumped at the table, head buried in her arms.

?Hey!? Mid-pancake flip, Sapphire spotted them. Plop! The pancake hit the floor. ?You?re back already? Did everything go okay? Could you not get in? What happened? Did you find it??

Jewell?s greeting was less enthusiastic. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and just looked at the two of them.

?Words -- words,? Mallory groused as she slumped into a seat near Sapphire and across from the evidently hungover older fae. ?I spent twelve hours reading way too much to process more than, like? one question.? She dropped her backpack on the floor and stretched, clenching her eyes shut. Now that she was seated again, the exhaustion of her long day was quickly setting in. ?Could use some weed,? she mumbled groggily, smearing a hand across her face.

?Weed later,? Sapphire chided, rescuing the pancake from the floor, dropping it in Mr. Fitzy?s food bowl, and turning on Ishmerai since Mallory seemed incapable of answering her questions and she needed to know now. ?So??

?She found it.? Succinct. To the point. The knight took his seat at the table.

Jewell?s mutter of ?thank the mother? as she buried her head back into her arms was lost to Sapphire?s triumphant shout, ?YES! I knew you?d do it! Okay, what do you want in your pancakes, Mallory? Merai? This calls for a celebration.?

?Tch. Nah-no -- well, blueberries,? the witch amended, slitting her eyes to look between Jewell and Sapphire, ?but now I get a question. You said we were back already, so? how long were we gone??

The faerie?s answer was an indiscernible mumble.

?Not even two hours! I didn?t even get to make a cake to welcome you home.? She banged around in the kitchen, getting out the supplies she needed to make double the pancakes. ?Anyone want chocolate chips??

Mallory blinked in surprise, but was interrupted by Jewell raising her head to look at them both. Oddly, her relief seemed incredibly short lived because she now looked very serious even in the face of chocolate chip pancakes, as if dreading some terrible news. ?What did you find??

Where felt just as important, in the witch?s mind. She leaned forward in her chair, steadying herself with her elbows, and looked at Jewell. ?The Starlight Basin, a relic of the first changelings, on the isle of Evenmir. It?s in the Far Lands -- past the Howling Mountains.? There was no mincing words about it.

?It?s going to be a hell of a trip.?


((These posts were co-written with the ever-amazing Mallory with many thanks!))

December 21, 2017

Belladonna dabbed her finger into one of the open jars scattered across her vanity, covering the pad of her pointer finger in a thick, vibrant red which she swiped across her lips, savoring the salty taste and gentle burn of the iron.

Human blood was just the best.

?Betel?? she called, blowing herself a kiss in the mirror before stepping out of the bathroom. ?Is everything ready??

?Yes my queen.? The chitinous armored knight offered her a scroll from within her cloak. It was sealed with black wax.

She took it, breaking open the seal and strolling closer to the window to read it in the light creeping in through the thick curtains. ?Ahhh. Just as I thought.? She looked to her knight with a grin, ?They agreed to all of it.?

?As they should.?

Her smile curled, all the more dreadful because of how wickedly pleased she was. The Endless Night Rave had been weeks in the making. Negotiations with the Night Court had taken forever. The pale bastards wanted more than their just desserts, but that wasn?t happening. Not while Bella still breathed. It was her glamour, and the magic of her people, that would draw in so many victims this evening. They would pour into the warehouse from all over RhyDin, ripe for the culling.

?Excellent.? She tossed the scroll onto the bed, crossing to her closet and pulling out clothes. Tonight had to be perfect. ?Did you get the girl??

?We have every reason to believe that she will attend.?

?Good. Let?s have some fun, shall we??

December 22, 2017

The morning sun seemed to shine right through her as she stood at the window, staring out at the grounds of the sanatorium while her mind was miles away in the city. ?Where did they leave them??

?Outside the Dockside entrance,? Lavanya reported, her freckles standing out starkly against the paleness of her face.

Three bodies stabbed through the heart with iron. Belladonna and her people were sending a very clear message. They knew to target Ila. They knew where one entrance to the sanatorium was. They knew she would send her people and not come herself.

Next time, send us something other than little girls to play with.

She crushed the note in her hand. It had been shoved inside Aella?s mouth. ?I should have gone.?

?That?s what they wanted,? Sapphire countered.

?So?? She snapped at her, turning to face them both. ?So what? Why not just give them what they want? They?ll get it anyway.? Neither woman had an answer for that. Jewell took a deep breath, trying to calm the wild beating of her heart. It was no good. She was furious. She looked to Lavanya, ?What have you done with the bodies??

?We brought them inside. They?re downstairs in--?

?Well do me a favor by not ****ing this up anymore than you already have and make sure they?re actually dead.? Lavanya flinched back, not used to being spoken like that by the faerie. Jewell didn?t care. She strode across the room, heading for the stairs.

It took a moment for Sapphire to shake off her shock and call after her, ?Where are you going??

?To get dressed!? she shouted back.

Someone had to tell Avani and George their daughter was dead.

December 25, 2017

Belladonna returned to the Tower of Gulshan for Christmas.

She walked the length of the second level, her black high heels echoing loudly in the concrete hallways. ?Woops, careful there,? she said to herself with a breathy laugh, breaking the eerie quiet of the prison as she stepped over the remains of one of the guards. Most of them had fled or joined her noble cause. The rest were splattered across the walls, the perfect shade of red for Yuletide.

As she strolled through the tower, the locks on the doors clicked open behind her, and the large ring of keys jingled in her hand, giving her a bit of music to sing to.

Let there be peace in RhyDin
And let it begin with me.
Let there be peace in RhyDin
The peace that was meant to be.
Brothers and sisters all are we!
Let me walk with my sister
In perfect harmony.

On the fourth level, she came upon a guard crawling his way down the stairs, his arm pressed tightly across his stomach to keep his intestines inside. ?Oh ho ho, what have we here?? Bella shoved him back up against the wall, straddling him. ?Come on now, love. Won?t you sing with me? Let?s share a little Christmas cheer together.?

Let peace begin with me
Let this be the moment now.

She grabbed his face, moving his mouth to form the words with her hand even as blood gurgled past his lips. She kissed him as he took his last, agonizing breath, letting his blood stain her lips a fresh red before leaving him there and continuing on with her task.

Up up and up she went towards the higher levels where the dangerous criminals were kept. Where she had been kept. All those years spent waiting to have her revenge.

It was unfolding now. Slowly, gloriously.

With every step I take
Let this be my solemn vow.
To take each moment
And live each moment
With peace eternally.

Oh, let there be peace in RhyDin,
And let it begin with me!

As the cells were unlocked, the inmates ran past her, shoving one another out of the way in their bid for freedom. One or two paused, grasping the short skirt of her sexy Mrs. Claus costume (complete with a Santa Claus hat) to thank her. She waved them off into the night with a genial smile and hearty laugh, ?Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!?

When she reached the very top of the tower, she spun about and paused, reveling in the distant din of hurried footsteps retreating on the stairs, ?And let?s make it a fabulously bloody New Year, shall we??

December 28, 2017

?Hey Jewell, can you hand me a saucer? Preferably a red one. And, um... whiskey and a couple of shot glasses??

?You're so odd,? the faerie remarked, shaking her head at Mallory?s request even if she was curious to see what she was up to. She had been lingering behind the bar for a half hour now, serving drinks like in the good ol? days when she was the Empress, darling of the Red Dragon Inn. Abandoning her drink on the bar, she turned and dug through the teacups until she found a reddish colored one, holding it up for Mallory?s inspection, ?Close enough??

?Close enough.?

?Excellent.? Jewell set that down on the bar first and added a collection of mismatched shot glasses before looking over the bottles of whiskey. ?Hmm?? her fingers danced over a few before selecting one and setting it out. ?I accept compliments as tips.?

?I like your sweater.? Mallory looked up from the saucer, left ring finger currently poised against the rim. ?It works well with those jeans.? Tip paid.

?Why thank you, Mallory!? She flashed her a bright smile; the only touch of glamour was in the corner there, that little bit that she couldn't ever truly banish. Then she bustled off, checking to see who needed what to drink.

Mallory?s gaze slid to one side, locked onto Eri's curious look, and she gave her a wink. Then to the other side, seeing Milo ducking his head, and she narrowed her eyes slyly. Then she whispered into the palm of her left hand, with the glass pendant dangling in slow, pendulous circles, faintly scratching the rim of the red saucer.

Eri was watching what Mallory was doing with the pendant and the cup closely. She tried to listen to the low words, but no sign of recognition seemed to cross her features. Fire rose from Mallory?s hand in little plumes like the petals of a flower, spilling gracefully when she tipped it, letting it settle into the saucer, hovering less than an inch over it. The flame itself was about three inches high, and rather wide, though it gave off no more heat and light than a simple candlelight.

Jewell sent a curious glance to the magic Mallory was performing. ?Pretty?? was all she said though as she set Mist?s glass on the bar in front of him and the bottle of cognac too just in case.

There was the faintest shimmer in the air above the flame, something more than the distortion of heat: a subtle thinning of the Veil, thin enough that one with the right skill (and a little bit of luck) might divine the future by peering into the flame. The witch tickled and plucked at the air around the little spell, verifying that it was, in fact, stable, before she spared a smile for Mist when he joined them at the bar. He got a wink, too.

Eri?s eyes were sharp enough to spot the shimmer in the air, but she didn't have the knowledge to discern any of its nature. She seemed pleased by the spell all the same, admiring the light with a grin. Jewell looked back at it over the rim of her tankard as she took a sip, brows knit together just a touch. It drew the attention of others too. Cane gave a curious (and mildly suspicious) quirk of a brow in Mallory's direction. Distortion had a habit of rippling outward like water rings. He could feel when it reached him. ?The **** 're you doing over there??

?If anyone would like a glimpse of their future,? Mallory said in a clear voice, as she passed her fingers through the magical flame, ?you have but to ask.? Though a nearby Marketplace Monocerus shotglass was snagged and turned upright nearby, something for any payment or tips, should anyone take her up on the offer. Maybe that would do for an explanation for the Cajun! Still. ?Divination,? she offered to Cane with a shrug.

?Nope!? Cane announced abruptly, lifting the beer for a long pull. Sal was well aware of Mallory?s spell playing, but left the questioning to other people. However, he did snort at the offer of having his fortune told.

There was only a smile for Cane and Sal in response, neither taunt nor reproach in Mallory?s gaze as it moved on from the pair of them. There were reasons enough to decline or dismiss the offer of a skilled pythoness. Eri thought about it for a moment, but made no request for a reading. She did reach for the whiskey at last however, taking a modest sip for now as she watched. Jewell tried to ignore Mallory?s offer, but her eyes kept shifting back over to the little flames. Without realizing it, her fingers flitted over the spot just beneath her ribs where a iron-wound scar was hidden by her sweater.

?It is funny to think you had once been a bartender. You are much more than that, now.? Mist noted to Jewell, humorous and quiet.

She chuckled a little at Mist?s comment, glad for the distraction. ?Yes, I suppose I am. Always good to have a fallback job though, right??

?You?re laughter on the wind and the light behind the moon, what else would you need?? Mist responded, lyric, eyes closing for a moment, his smile warm for the moment it lasted.

Her smile for Mist was fleeting; his words oddly deciding something for her. ?I want to be the light of the sun and stars too.? Abandoning her drink, Jewell moved down the bar to stand in front of Mallory. Cane eyed Jewell obliquely as she approached the witch, then looked quickly away. No. No, he didn't want to know.

The faerie crooked her finger, leaning forward to whisper something to Mallory, who turned her head to catch her words.

?Find me the day when my heart will stop.?

Mallory looked at the fae... and nodded slowly, splaying her right hand on the countertop next to the flame as she peered into it. She let her gaze go unfocused... then sharp again... and she shook her head faintly. ?Too far... down a twisted, jagged road nine years long?? No, no, the answer itself would not be spoken aloud, merely her senseless ramblings as she tried to focus on her goal.

?Holy cannolis! Are you tending bar??

Mallory?s eyes snapped to Mairead reflexively at her exclamation, losing the thread of the will-o-wisp's flame. Hmmm. Jewell straightened up from her lean and reluctantly gave Maggie her attention momentarily. ?I can get you something, but I'm mostly just hanging out back here now.?

?May I have an apple juice, please?? Maggie set some coins on the counter.

?Sure?? She replied, distracted, eyes on Mallory and those flames even as she went to fetch the apple juice. She grabbed a grape juice first, setting it on the bar before she realized her mistake. An apple juice quickly joined it. She took up her spot opposite Mallory immediately, muscles tense.

?Thank you!? Maggie grinned and took the juice.

Mallory looked away from the girl, biting her lip thoughtfully... then pricked her left ring fingertip on a thorny silver ring, and drew a slow circle in the air over the saucer. What fell through the air may have been blood, but what settled and congealed on the dish was drops of deep red candlewax. She blinked slowly, once; twice; thrice, and her eyes were the same color red. She held her gaze that way until the count of three, shut her eyes, and exhaled slowly. The flame died down lower, cooler, dimmer.

Jewell studied the drops of red wax, unknowingly holding her breath. Her heart beat rapidly. Mallory?s eyes slitted open, an ordinary shade of green again, and she leaned across the bar and cupped her hand to the faerie's ear.

?The last heartbeat of the very last second of the Feast of Saint Valentine.?

Jewell?s exhale was half laughter and full of bitterness. She stepped back, paler than she had been just moments ago. ?Well **** that's irony for you, huh??

Mallory lifted her chin a few degrees, ticked a look over at Eri, and back at Jewell. ?That's when we get it done.? She could rationalize indulging in a little optimism for arrogance?s sake. Eri was stirring around in spite of a couple sips of whiskey, looking faintly anxious for a moment. Though the tone she heard Mallory use seemed to put her at ease enough to sit still at least. She smiled when she saw the witch look over her way for a moment.

Jewell smile was a feint, pure affectation. She felt sick to her stomach. ?Pretty fitting, I suppose.? Mallory nodded faintly. Peering ahead that far, with that degree of precision... was giving her a hell of a headache, so she may have missed a few things about Jewell's tone and expression. She scooped up her shot and drained it.

A year to the day. So little time left. Oh Kal, why couldn?t you have just left me for dead that night? Why why why? Jewell took another step back away from the witch, vaguely aware of how the room seemed to be spinning around with her thoughts. It was an automatic gesture, the way she fished a pill out of the thin case in her back pocket and popped it under her tongue. The bitter taste was a strange, familiar comfort.

Eri watched Mal take another drink, and followed suit herself. She was shrugging off the anxious tension that had settled into her. ?Being alive isn't even safe, after all,? she said to herself in a low murmur, then nodded as she thought about her own words.

?It's the most dangerous state to be in, by definition.? She cut a grin over at Eri, then hesitated over pouring herself another shot of whiskey. ?Unless you're a vampiric thrillseeker, I guess. Racing the sunrise. Mooning paladins. Hanging around wood-carvers.?

Hearing that list of activities made Eri snicker, deciding against a third whiskey for the time being at least. She did get up to fetch a cola out of the icebox though, bringing another for Mal while she was at it. ?I guess thrill seeking is one way they might cope,? she piped in her singsong.

Jewell laughed, though it was more because she heard the tone of Mallory and Eri?s exchange than what they actually said. ?Yeah?? Her contribution to the conversation was at an end. It was an effort to focus on the here and now and people around her. She was counting down the minutes of her life. ?Think I over-extended myself bartending. Not as sharp as I used to be, maybe.? That was her only explanation before she moved towards the break in the bar. Remembering something at the last moment though, she pulled the true-silver cuff bracelet off her wrist and set it in front of Mallory. ?Thank you.? Then she was on the move, heading for the stool that held all her stuff.

Slender fingers closed around the bracelet, and murmured her thanks to Eri as she chased the soda. She wasn't looking at the jewelry yet, instead watching the fae as she retrieved her things. Until she glanced down at her payment, and its intricate design and tiny, shimmering stones, and realized how much it must be. "****ing *****!" Eri jumped in alarm a bit as she heard Mal?s exclamation. Then she was peering over to see what had brought on the surprised reaction. Her own eyes widened a bit at the jewelry.

Jewell grabbed her jacket, scarf, hat, all the winter gear but didn't bother to put it on. She only paused long enough to look over to Mallory at her reaction. ?It was my mother?s.? Might as well give it away. She was a goner anway. There was no way Ishmerai would make it back to RhyDin before Valentine?s Day no matter the promises the knight had offered to her.

She headed for the door, awkwardly pulling her jacket on as she went. It meant she dropped her gloves though. Jewell bent down, grabbing them off the floor before brushing past those at the door--careful not to touch them--and stepping out into the frigid night.

Cane twisted on the stool to watch Jewell?s hasty retreat. Brows furrowed, his gaze shifted from the faerie to Mallory. What just happened? Sal turned a concerned look on Jewell too. He had likewise totally missed something. Mallory frowned at the bracelet, and at Jewell?s retreating back... and finally put the trinket away. Biting her lower lip, frowning as she thought. She caught Eri with another quiet look, and then Cane.

?Mal,? Eri asked directly. ?Is she okay?? Mallory shook her head at Eri. Very slightly, but it was there. Eri stirred around a little on her seat again, the furrowing of her brow indicating some distress. Then her jaw took a firmer posture, expression becoming more determined. ?Well we have to do something then.?

Cane might've muttered the word ?stupid? somewhere while finishing off his first beer. Then he got off his stool and ambled over to Mallory, pulling out his wallet along the way. ?Give me that.? He meant the bracelet she?d put away--and no, he wasn't asking. Calloused fingers dug out several bills for compensation. Meanwhile, Salvador kept his ass firmly planted on his stool. Spine to edge of bar, elbows on the counter, staring at the door like he expected Jewell to come back in, or like he was seriously considering hunting her down to personally see if she was all right.

Cane actually caught Mallory just as she was hitting send on a text. ?Oh. I, uh -- I wasn't gonna --? Here. It was easier just to show him her screen.

Text to Sapphire: your here-mom misplaced one of her bracelets. I have it.
Text to Sapphire: I can give it to you next time we meet up

The blue haired faerie, away in a different dimension and time, replied while the phone was turned to Cane.

Text to Mallory: One, it's so cool this works even though I'm not there
Text to Mallory: Two, is it nice?
Text to Mallory: Think she'll notice if I keep it?
Text to Mallory: Pics please

His lips mashed together in a hard line, jaw tense as he scanned the screen. Cane grunted in response, but held his hand out for the trinket anyway. ?I'm going to find her now.? There was a brief pause where he remembered his manners, saying, ?Please??

Well, that sounded like his cue. Salvador slid off the seat of his stool, stood. He still had a beer in hand as he prowled sedately to the door, and out. He'd wait outside for the Cajun, and see then if Cane wanted him to tag along or not.

?Yeah.? Mallory gave her boss a trusting look as she dug out the bracelet, pressing it into his hand. ?Later... we can talk about it.? The back of his hand got a single, reassuring pat.

Even though he'd seen that Mallory intended to give the bracelet back, he still dropped a handful of bills on the counter beside her after stowing the bracelet in the inside pocket of his jacket. ?Thanks, Mal.? The witch let out a low whistle at the bills. These, at least, she wouldn't refuse. These were going straight into the mortgage. She folded them up, putting them away as long, purposeful strides carried Canaan to the door. ?We?ll talk later.? Confirmation for the girl on his way out to the Spaniard. They?d go capture a faerie together.

Hunting faeries is what Salvador was built for. He was totally down. More than happy to help, actually.

((Adapted from live play in the Red Dragon Inn on December 28, 2017. Many thanks to everyone who participate in this spontaneous scene.))

December 31, 2017

With a little nudge in the right direction from Janel, the Finder in her employ, Jewell sought Mallory in the Old Temple district library. She ran her fingers along the spine of a few passing books as she wandered down the quiet aisles after a reminder from the librarian that they were closing early today. It was New Year?s Eve afterall. Jewell had a handful of things to get done before the party tonight, and she hadn?t exactly slept last night thanks to Mathis (not that she minded that), but she kept her word in seeking out Mallory. She owed the witch thanks and more.

She found her kneeling among the stacks, accruing a tiny pile of books on Slavic folklore. Her head was bent to another one open in her lap, one finger curled to a passage as she quietly murmured her way through the Latin translation; on the facing page was an image of a majestic bird, its massive wings open and ablaze with a strange fire.

Jewell cleared her throat to give away her presence before leaning over to admire the picture of the bird, ?I?ve always felt a kinship with the phoenix myself.?

Mallory had heard someone approaching, though she was surprised to hear Jewell?s voice. She looked up at her and smiled faintly. ?I can see that.? She tapped her finger against the illustration and explained, ?Zhar-ptitsa, the firebird. Little different from the phoenix, but I wonder if it?s based on the same stories? and I told someone I?d try to figure that out. I probably should have charged her for it, but? here I am.?

Her eyes narrowed slyly, falling back to the book long enough to mark her place and put it away with the others. ?Maybe I?ll find a better way to conjure flames in these pages, and it?ll make the whole thing worthwhile? My little token,? dropping her thumb to the warped, smoky glass pendant on her necklace, ?can only do so much.?

?Or maaaaybe,? Jewell leaned carefully against the nearest shelves, ?some rich benefactor who probably owes you a lot of money will show up like in the folk tales and gift you something to replace the bracelet you returned??

The witch let the glass pendant fall against her collarbone and stood to face the faerie, silent for a long moment as she held Jewell?s gaze, though her expression was thoughtful, not challenging. ?It was your mother?s? That?s? not the kind of price I want to take from someone.?

Jewell nodded slowly, examining the toe of her boots before looking up to meet Mallory?s gaze. ?Thank you. I was not thinking clearly at the time.? She smiled faintly. It was an understatement. ?And now I found myself in your debt once more, Mallory. What would you have of me??

The witch turned her head to listen to the rest of the library. Paper shuffling at the front desk. Quiet footsteps downstairs and across the room. The same pair of bodies she?d seen in those places an hour ago. Still, she chose her words carefully. ?Safiya and I want to start a? kind of a bookstore, and a place of learning. I think we?ll call it the Lyceum. But property costs a lot of money? at least, to someone like me, and someone like her. Once this is done, and I?ve finished what I said I?m going to do for you? I?d like to start making preparations to open the Lyceum. Does that sound fair to you? Full ownership of a commercial property we can use to sell magical supplies, and take on a few students.?

Her teeth worked at the inside of her cheek, weighing the price of the tasks completed and in process with the cost being asked of her. There had to be a balance. ?Mal,? Jewell glanced around them and lowering her voice appropriately, ?you are trying to save my life and you have done me a service. I?m not sure that that would be enough -- ?

?The Vitaeum.? The witch leaned closer to the faerie now, meeting her gaze with an intensity she?d only shown her once before: when she asked to read the ancient tome of life and death among the first fae. ?One day I?m going to ask for it again, for my own ends, and I?d like you to lend it to me for as long as I need? no questions asked, no secrets shared.? Her eyes flared, and some of the intensity passed from her gaze, replaced by the gentle curve of a smile. To her, at least, it felt balanced: one eternal life for another. ?An arcane bookshop and the use of your family?s grimoire as my reward. Fair??

Jewell was uncomfortable with Mallory?s intensity, but this request would even the scales. She searched Mal?s face, her hesitation born out of worry for the witch. She had grown so much in the year of their acquaintance, and there she had so much potential. But she was young, and Jewell was genuinely concerned where this path would take her. ?Mallory,? she started, quietly and concerned, ?I will not deny you your request but is it really wise to meddle in such magic??

?No,? she said, ?except that the alternative is dying. I?ve already had a taste of that, and I?m not interested,? she added with a slow shake of her head. ?It won?t be today. I don?t think it will be a year from now. It could be in a few decades. But one day, when I?m ready, I want to use my blood magic to its full potential? circumvent death, without embracing undeath.?

Giving voice to the ambitions that had been lurking in the witch?s darkest dreams since she?d first spoken with the dead and seen what lay beyond made her pulse quicken and her mouth dry, but it curled her empty hands into determined fists because it made so much sense. After everything she had seen, and what she would be capable of in the years to come, she could not imagine it coming to anything else.

Undeath. Theo?s offer replayed in Jewell?s mind: ?I?d much rather give you a new life and keep you forever.? With a sigh, the faerie slid down to the ground, her back pressed against the stack of books behind her. She looked up, staring at the ceiling. There must have been a water leak at some point; the tiles were stained. ?Yeah, dying is a bit of a drag isn?t it??

Jewell had tasted death so many times now, and with the great lengths she had gone through to avoid it, what right did she have to prevent Mallory from doing the same one day? When she looked back at Mallory, her grey eyes were still troubled but she had relented. ?He?ll be seriously upset and impossible to live with if you get yourself killed trying something from that grimoire.? The knight was rather protective of the young woman.

The witch sank to a kneel again, bringing her face to Jewell?s level. ?He?ll be impossible to deal with if either of us kick off for any reason,? she said, and held out a hand to her as she gave her an imploring look. ?But neither of us has to die.?

?Perhaps.? Jewell was sure that at least one of them didn?t have to die. She offered her hand out to take Mallory?s, shaking it firmly. ?You can have your shop and the loan of the grimoire regardless of how this turns out. If it doesn?t work, it won?t be your fault.? She hadn?t asked her lover to kill her.

?If it doesn?t work, I?ll feed Belladonna?s heart to the pigs instead.? Despite the macabre declaration, the smile that Mallory gave Jewell was almost playful. ?We owe her at least that much.?

?You know,? the faerie laughed, ?it?d almost be worth dying again just to make that happen.?

((Co-written with my favorite witch!))

January 3, 2018

?Angel,? he whispered reverential and confused, ?what did you do to me??

?Mmm?? Jewell half turned in the king size bed and looked blearily at Th?odore sitting on the edge of it, staring down at his hands. She snuggled right back down against her pillow again, her head spinning. She felt terrible this morning. Her limbs were weak and heavy and her heart beat a tremulously. It was all worth it though. ?I thought you would recognize a blood bond when you felt one, Teddy,? she admonished sleepily.

?A blood bond?? he echoed in disbelief. ?How is that possible??

Apparently, they were having this conversation now. With a noise of frustration, Jewell rolled over to face him, propping herself up on an elbow with her cheek cradled in the palm of her hand. ?Darling, you really should do your research before you start ****ing with a faerie let alone Kissing one.?

She was lucky that it had worked on the first try. It had been a game of chance with some serious risks, notably that he wouldn?t stop feeding on her once he started, but Mallory?s divination had given her reasonable assurance that she would survive his Kiss. He could have gone into torpor though, or decorated the room with blood as he vomited everywhere, or suffered from hallucinations like the last person that had dared Kiss her. She wondered idly what had happened to the Rose as she watched understanding dawn on Theo?s handsome features.

?No,? he shook his head numbly. ?No, this can?t be. My father? he will be furious.?

?Oh yeah, huh?? Jewell flopped onto her back, grinning at the ceiling. ?That?s a real bummer.?

He didn?t seem to hear the amusement in her tone as he stood and made his way around the room in a distracted manner, collecting his clothes. ?I have to go. This is? this is??

Beyond perfect, she thought. Good luck trying to break a blood bond with a s?dhe, bitch. You?re mine now.

January 8, 2018

Belladonna was slouched on a chair, listening to the wind whistle and hiss through the broken glass panes. The offices of House of Summer Inc. had seen better days. The windows had been smashed, and what little office furniture left behind had been piled in the center of the lofty space and burned a few weeks ago. Earlier, she had cleared out the riff raff fae that had been squatting in the space and given her knight strict instructions that she was not to be disturbed. She needed to think.

And yet? ?My queen??

?What is it??

?A message for you.?

She sighed. Being a queen was so tedious sometimes. ?This better be important.?

?The girl is here. In the city.?

She suddenly perked up, spinning her swivel chair around to face the chitinous knight. ?Is she now? Well well?? That was a pretty solution to her current problems. The lord of the Night Court was being rather difficult these days all because of that pathetic son of his. He was furious at what Jewell had done. On the other hand, Belladonna was actually a little jealous that she hadn?t thought of attempting to blood bond the boy to her. It was a masterful stroke, really. A move deserving of admiration.

And to repaid in kind.

?What do you think, Betel darling? Perhaps we should have her for dinner while she?s in town.?

West Market Street was normally empty once the shops and stalls closed down for the day. Tonight, it was seeing some after-hours action. There were four fae standing in a loose circle and another dead on the ground along with a single canine c?-sith, circling the group and growling, eager for a bite. There was a knight in chitinous armor facing a blue haired young woman, beating her back with a broadsword. The girl was holding her own with the long, iron-tipped axe in her hand, but there were cuts on her face, arms, and legs.

And there was one bitch of a s?dhe, dancing around the pair: cheering on the knight and pushing the girl closer to her opponent when she strayed too far. ?What?re you going to do, girlie? She?s going to get you! She?s going to get you!?

Belladonna was only aware of Jewell half a second before anyone else noticed her stepping out from Elsewhere and into the fray. She was mid-turn when the knife, palmed as quick as magic, was driven into the mad s?dhe?s side. ?No!? Betel shouted, turning her attention from Sapphire and turning her blade on Jewell instead.

Sapphire exploited the opening as soon as she saw it, her axe humming, the energy blade igniting as she drove it deep into the knight?s exposed back. Betel dropped to the ground with a grunt, freeing Jewell to turn her attention to Belladonna?s four fae lackeys. She caught Sapphire?s eye as she did. Run. The young woman hesitated for just a moment before taking off.

?After her!? Belladonna ordered the c?-sith, hissing as she pulled the knife from her side. The hound growled and shot forward to chase down the girl.

Jewell flung her hand outwards in response, seizing control of its massive body as it leapt past her and tossing it against the nearest building, cracking brick and mortar. It fell to the ground hard, and a pile of rubble fell on top of it. ?Keep your ****ing hands off my daughter.?

Every act of magic felt like it shaved years off her life, and the rapid beat of her heart was the music for her deadly dance. Jewell performed a violent piroutte, turning and ducking to avoid the first fae coming at her. His razor tipped claws caught her face as they passed. At such close proximity, the thin beam of energy she shot neatly through his gut like a bullet sprayed blood across the night and dropped the unseelie fae to the ground. Halfway through her turn, she rose up and seized the blood inside the other two fae coming near, ripping them apart in a shower of vitae. Almost done with her spin, she pulled the blood out of the air as it fell, forming it into a frozen short sword with which she cut down the fourth and final fae even as he scored a shallow cut across her ribs.

Coming full circle, Jewell finished her dance with the sword of blood still in hand, facing Belladonna in momentary triumph.

?Get her,? she growled to the c?-sith that had returned to her side, injured and all the more vicious because of it.

Shit. The sword melted back to blood and fell to the ground as Jewell turned and ran for the door. She had nothing left inside her. She was burnt out. Her iron-poisoned heart screamed, matching the howl of the c?-sith as it chased her. With her every step, a bramble grew up behind her from the cobblestones to snag and tear at the creature, but that barely slowed it down. The great hound was so much faster than she was. Jewell turned a corner, the door now only a straightaway ahead, just as its teeth caught the back of her shirt. The violent jerk of its head sent her off balance and she fell, slamming into the curb. The hound snarled and pounced, crushing her petite frame beneath its girth and digging its long claws into her shoulders.

She screamed.

?I?m coming, darling!? Belladonna?s laughter filled the night from around the corner in answer. ?Take a little bite if you must, puppy dear!?

The c?-sith growled low as it bared its teeth at her, eager to take more than a little bite. Jewell struggled uselessly and then closed her eyes as its fangs grazed the skin at her throat. There was a sudden woosh, and then only the cool breeze tickled her skin.

She opened her eyes.

The headless corpse of the c?-sith was slumped against her, and Sapphire was standing there, blood dripping from the end of her axe. ?Get her up,? the young woman shouted, spinning the pole-arm in the air, waiting for whoever was coming next. Lavanya and Haizea were on either side of her, pulling her free from beneath the c?-sith and up to her feet.

As soon as she was steady, they let go and gripped the hilts of the weapons at their sides, ready for a fight as Bella came around the corner.

?Go,? Jewell ordered them, shoving Sapphire and Lavanya back away from her and towards the door. No one hesitated this time, but they kept the Empress in front of them as all four dashed the remaining yards to the Old Market entrance.

?Here I cooooooome,? the unseelie s?dhe shouted gleefully, laughing. She was on their heels as they crashed through the door.

Jewell went last and practically slammed it in her face, collapsing back against it. It?s over. Just breathe.

The doorknob turned.

?No!? the faerie shouted in horror. She twisted around to slam her hands, slick with blood, up against the wood. On the other side, Belladonna pushed back. ?No no no no no,? Jewell pushed all her weight into it, her bare feet having trouble finding purchase on the tile floors.

The door opened an inch.

?I?m going to huff. And puff. And blow your door down Jewellsie!? Bella?s lilting voice came from the other side.

?Over my ****ing dead body.?

With sheer force of will, Jewell slammed the door shut again.

The Old Market portal collapsed.

January 10, 2018

It was closer to three a.m. than two when Jewell showed up on Sinjin?s doorstep: battered and reeking of blood. Most of it was hers now; she had washed the remains of the fae she had killed off along with the dirt and grime of the fight before patching herself up as much as necessary--her shoulders, her ribs, the long series of cuts that fortunately skipped over her left eye. She should have been sleeping, likely for the next two weeks if she wanted to even dream of recovering after all she had done last night, but two minutes sitting on the couch in her empty loft had been too long. Instead, she had made the walk over to the Deadwood despite his warning.

She didn?t go inside though. The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off, leaving exhaustion in its wake, and in that exhaustion, Jewell found it harder than normal to keep herself together and muster up that bold confidence she preferred to project to the world.

Text to Sin: Can I come in?

The vibrating of his phone snapped him from his thoughts -- though thoughts would be a generous term. He was vibrating with a mix of energy and exhaustion from maintaining such a deep and powerful illusion that was only partially satisfied by the violence he exerted afterward. There was nothing left of them now -- the two kindred were little more than dust on the wind outside and the Deadwood was abandoned as even Kaavi had escaped for safer spaces.

Sinjin, however, was not so keen on abandonment. A singular glance at his phone to see the name was all it took to make the kindred rise to his feet and head for the door and down the stairs. He could have texted her back and invite her inside -- what a fae thing to do -- but instead he was possessed to see her in the flesh before anything else.

And he did: his steps slowed as he went down the ruined staircase to the broken front door where she was, in all her injury and glory, and for a moment he said nothing. He looked at her, his brows drawn together in a look of critical observation as he came near. He smelled of blood and smoke and ash as he reached, his heavily scarred hands moving to gently cup her jaw as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She was safe and so was he.

Her grey eyes ate him up as he came down the stairs, the tightness in her chest easing a little to see him there: whole and unharmed. And if she tensed for just a moment when he kissed her forehead--as if her whole body expected an iron shiv to follow the gesture--it was like it never even happened when, heedless of the injuries to her shoulders, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face against him.

Inhaling the scent of the evening clinging to him, she demanded: ?Tell me you?re okay.? Put it into words and make it true.

He felt the tension roll through her and though he did not ask or speak of it, the sinner made a mental notation: there was something more to that. But that was a thought for later. Instead, his fingers slid up and into her hair, cradling her head against his shoulder as his other arm circled around her, holding her close. ?I?m here,? he murmured, his lips close to her ear and thick with the accent of his native tongue. ?I?m safe. You?re safe.? His words were a quiet reassurement there in the cold of the early morning, the world gone still in the wake of violence.

Her own safety was rarely of any concern for the faerie, but she would never forgive herself for putting anyone she cared about in danger--even if some of them maybe enjoyed it. He was okay though, which meant everything (for the moment) was okay. Jewell released a breath she didn?t realize she was holding along with a little more of that heart-squeezing feeling that had been suffocating her ever since she received Sapphire?s text earlier in the evening.

?Did you kill them?? He left them unnamed, but knew one thing was certain: Jewell was as capable as himself, if not more so, and if someone imposed their ire on her or her children, he could not imagine a place where the Empress would allow them to leave intact.

She remained there--still, close, and safe in the magic that seemed to spring up between and around them--counting the bodies in her head. ?Four of them,? she confirmed as if he had asked if she had picked up bread at the store. Four lives taken as if they were nothing. They were nothing. Nameless nobodies that had dared to touch someone she loved. ?I need the other one alive still, but I made her bleed.? It wasn?t enough, but it would have to be for now. Later, she?d take her heart.

?Good girl.? Sinjin seemed satisfied with that answer, a dark edge to his smile as he pressed another kiss to her temple, lingering close. He seemed to be debating something in the silence that followed, but when he eventually spoke again, it was as he slowly released her from his embrace, though his hand sought her own. ?I can hide us here tonight, if you wish it.? No one would find them. He had enough energy left in him for that. ?You can rest. You need it, ruise?or.? A moment of peace before what he did not doubt would be her next war.

?And you can tell me how I can help you.? He squeezed her fingers just so, an undeniable curiosity and want for violence in his eyes. Sinjin did not abide cruelty to those he cared for, much less an invasion of his home, however foolishly planned.

Jewell looked down at their hands, linked together. She should refuse his offer. She shouldn?t have even come here and gotten him involved, but it was too late. Sin was involved. He wanted to be involved, and she didn?t have the heart to tell him no even if it meant telling him all the things that had silently existed, shoved aside and ignored, the last few weeks as they played pretend.

In some ways, she wanted to tell him: this man who held her hand and did not hesitate to offer her his help. A perfect partner in crime. When she looked up at him, her smile promised all the violence he could ever want and more. ?Yes, we should talk.?


((Written with the lovely Sinjin-player. Thank you!))

January 14, 2018

?What went wrong??

Belladonna sat across the table from Earl T?n?bres. She had put this meeting off for almost a week, insisting she was healing from the wound Jewell had inflicted upon her. Truthfully, it just didn?t seem like much fun to meet with the lord of the Night Court. He was an unpleasant person, and he didn?t glance at her ample cleavage once! ?Well?? she drew out the word sharply, ?I was trying to get the girl for you.?

?Yes,? Earl sighed, ?but you had to play with her first, didn?t you? Bella, Bella? you have lost sight of our goal.?

?Your goal,? she snapped. She was a queen and she was not going to let a nasty creature like the Earl lecture her. ?It was payback and a present for you.? Her smile was mocking, taunting him, ?You know, for what she did to your wittle baby boy. Besides,? she leaned back languorously in her seat, ?I thought it would be fun to make her cry.?

?Your desire to toy with her is inconsequential and dangerous at this point.? He was grinding his teeth again. It amused her to see him struggle with his restraint. If only he would take a swipe at her. Then she could tear him into itty bitty pieces. ?The game has changed, Belladonna. We need to know what she is playing at. We cannot allow her to win. You will need to find out what she is doing.?

Belladonna sighed. ?Of course we can?t let her win, but why do her plans matter? Why can?t we just let her die? She?s only got another month.?

?That woman is a survivor. She is not going to just die. She has a plan. She is up to something, and we must know what it is. The boy was supposed to find out, but he upset her.?

?Then we?ll just kill her. Kill her again on Valentine?s Day! Perhaps we can get another one of her lover?s to do it.? The thought made her gleeful. She could even visit the half-elf who had done her in the first time! Perhaps he wanted another go.

?No.? He was firm in the face of her whimsical musings, putting an end to them for the moment. ?We can no longer allow her to just die and you absolutely cannot kill her.?

?That?s not fair!? She sat up straight, slamming her fist down on the table. ?You said I could kill her. You promised! You said I could toy with her all I wanted and then I could wring her pretty little neck.?

?Plans change,? the Earl responded cooly. ?You can?t kill her.?

She narrowed her eyes at him, ?Why??

Lord T?n?bres sighed, ?Because it could be detrimental to young Th?odore.?

Her grin was wild, ?You mean it could make him crack like a nut, huh? Newsflash, Earl,? Belladonna leaned forward, ?being insane isn?t so very bad.? His look was pure disapproval, causing her to laugh as she sat back, ?So what are you going to do with her instead??

?That remains to be decided. Regardless, we can?t make any plans until we know what she?s doing. Find out what she?s up to first, and then I am sure there will be plenty of room for your brand of fun.?

The catwalk where Moriko stood as bait, clutching her wounds and shivering feverishly, was blood-slick and scattered with the remains of the fae reaver, his serrated silver cleavers laying at her feet. Somewhere down below them in the darkness the sluagh lay where it had fallen, its ghoul-like form letting out its last panicked shrieks as Mallory?s blood-conjured wolves sundered its rotting flesh.

And the witch herself had placed herself between Moriko and a fae knight, clad in armor of hard black chitin and shimmering red scales, wielding a barbed staff of wood and bone. She grinned unkindly at the mortal girl, seemingly undeterred by the fact that she?d already dispatched the unhinged sociopath and the undead beast that had barreled blindly into an ambush.

?It?s only your Third Eye she needs,? the knight hissed through her interlocking fangs as she stalked up the stairs to the catwalk. ?The others, I?ll be taking to remember you by.?

Mallory said nothing. Her hands were empty, but for the vines that curled around her left arm and pierced her palm with their thorns. Her gaze was not on the fae knight, but on the heavy chains that dangled near the top of the stairs, and the crucible that hung from it. She waited until she heard the sound of the staff slicing through the air, and curled her right hand around an invisible hilt.

Merciful luck, lend me a blade.

The witch let out a sharp cry as the staff came down on her shoulder as a mantle of shadows flared out to protect her neck, and the weapon bruised and bit deep into her flesh, deep enough for the knight to try to rip it out; deep enough to keep her rooted in place, as one of the heavy chains snapped, the iron within called into Mallory?s outstretched hand.

There was no time for so much as a scream, as the crucible tipped a shower of molten steel onto the fae?s head first. It cracked away her armor, burned through her flesh, and heated the stairs until, white-hot, they gave way beneath her weight. What remained of her body, and almost an entire curcible of hot metal, fell to the floor below where they glowed like a massive bonfire.

A whip of iron links dangled from the witch?s hand, glowing orange and yellow and white where they had passed through the shower of steel. There were more of them out there -- she could hear singing in the darkness around her, someone mocking her -- and she growled out a warning:

?Come and taste it, you bastards.?

?Mallory!?

Moriko?s warning cry came a split-second too late, as the witch turned to face a pair of knife-like bolts of magic flickering out of the darkness. One just missed her, grazing her chin as she whipped her head away from it; but the other hit her center mass, wracking her body with searing pain as it coursed through her like electricity. She coughed violently and held onto the railing to keep herself on her feet, hauling herself backwards towards Moriko.

Nimble feet, clad in soft black leather, alighted on the catwalk with a gentle metallic echo, and Old Jack rose up from his crouch to loom over Mallory, his silver teeth and silver claws glowing by the light of the molten steel. ?Where ya goin?, girlies? Headin? for the door so soon?? he hissed, his dark and gleaming eyes watching his quarry limp down the catwalk away from him. In one fluid motion he scooped up a cleaver from the fallen reaver, running his tongue along the back of the blade. When it touched the tip, his tongue bled black, and he curled a smile at the pair of them.

Fire erupted from the witch?s right palm, and she curled her flame-licked fingers around the glowing chains at the end of her whip, setting her feet wide to stand her ground against the advancing eladrin. His smile only grew.

?So good of you to stay an? dance with Ol? Jack.?

With a flick of her wrist and a sharp cry of anger, Mallory released the end of the whip from her fiery grasp and lashed out at the eladrin, striking him across the face. He gasped at the precise blow and glowered across the short distance at her, cradling the deep iron burn along his jaw with his palm. His skin was ruptured and torn, exposing his back molars in an exaggerated grin.

These weren?t the clumsy, desperate moves of the witch he?d met at Samhain. Someone had been teaching her.

He was ready for the next strike, deflecting it easily with the silver cleaver and countering with a clean slice that bit through the outside of her thigh. She stumbled away from his follow-through, avoiding his reckless attempt to slash open her belly, but when she turned to flee, she paid for it when he raked his claws across her lower back.

She fell into the railing and the whip dropped from her hands, slithering off the catwalk and into the darkness below. Find your feet. Even outclassed by this eladrin assassin, Ishmerai?s lessons guided her steps, and she whirled to face Jack as she backed towards Moriko again, blowing a long breath through the fire leaping from her fingers. It billowed out into a hot, searing cloud, but the eladrin merely hung back to avoid its sting before he continued his inexorable advance.

It bought them seconds, but they needed more than that. She had so little blood to spare, and they were running out of catwalk.

Eri?s glowing eyes fixed on the sight of Jack pursuing and attacking Mallory as she extracted herself from beneath the bloody mass that had been the Phouka. Their lantern glow flashed brighter as a loud hiss issued from her mouth. She?d already fought with the eladrin once before, and seen his speed and agility in action, so she held back the instinct to charge, instead moving forward in a quiet trot with the spike held up in an icepick grip.

When he hung back to avoid the fire billowing from Mallory?s fingers, Eri struck.

She aimed her spike at the junction of Jack?s neck and shoulder, but the sadistic fae?s quick reactions saved him from that likely fatal strike, hearing the half oni?s approach in time to take the blow to his shoulder instead. The acute steel point gouged his flesh and cracked bone, and he choked back a scream behind his sharp silver teeth. ?One? at a? time!?

He retaliated with a swift swing of the cleaver, burying the serrated weapon in Eri?s upper arm.

The shock of the metal striking bone jolted the spike from Eri?s grasp, but the cleaver was too deeply embedded in her arm for Jack to retrieve. Toe to toe now they grappled at each other, pushing and grasping in a desperate bid for the upper hand. His claws ripped at Eri?s back while her teeth locked onto the fae?s defending wrist with tenacity.

?Girlie, that?s my favorite hand? I like that hand!? he snarled, as building magical power cracked and burned between his fingers, turning slowly in Eri?s jaw to push in towards her face.

Moriko grabbed onto his arm from behind, and he tried to turn to snarl at her? and found the movement stopped by the witch?s long, slender fingers gripped tightly around the back of his head. ?You?ll burn for hurting her,? she hissed in his ear.

There was nothing to do but scream as the magical fire spread quickly through his hair, clawing desperately at his scalp with one hand and struggling to pull the other one free from the oni?s jaws, tearing tendon and scraping bone with the effort.

When Jack released his claws from her back to claw at his burning head, Eri?s hands were swift to grab the eladrin around his neck. As she held him aloft, she saw the second crucible, dangling off to the side of the catwalk and filled to the brim with molten steel. She bared her misaligned canines once more in a cruel grin, and the delinquent gave Jack one final shove over the railing.

The eladrin?s final moments were spent with his eyes locked onto the eerie yellow glow of Eri?s gaze, his burning face twisted with malice. He didn?t scream when he landed in the crucible, and in seconds his flesh was consumed by the rising flames, leaving his teeth and claws to melt away into the steel.

?**** that guy,? Mallory said, joining Eri at the railing to peer down at what little remained of the sadistic eladrin. Then she looked at the thorny vines winding their way around her arm, biting deeper into her skin as she willed it, and breathed a long sigh. There wasn?t much left in her tanks? just enough to get them home.

?C?mon. Let?s -- ? She stopped, blinking at her girlfriend. ?Eri.?

Eri looked up from the surface of the steel in the crucible to meet Mallory?s eyes. ?Hm?? she asked, looking concerned.

The witch gestured incredulously at the massive cleaver still sticking out of her: ?Eri, your bloody arm.?

Eri looked horrified, her eyes and teeth returning to normal as shock replaced the anger of the fight. She wrenched the cleaver free and dropped it with a grimace, complaining in a whiney, nagging tone: ?Owww.?

Mallory sighed sadly at Eri?s pain. Thank Fate she can regenerate. She reached out one bloody hand to Eri?s shoulder and the other to Moriko?s, shut her eyes, and willed her bloodflow to quicken --

-- and in a flash of black smoke and crimson light, they vanished.

* * * * *

Only one fae made it out of the foundry alive. He cowered on his knees before Belladonna on the cobblestone streets of Dockside, his skin lashed and burned with iron.

?What do you mean they got away??

?I?m s-s-sorry, my queen, but the witch? she did her Veilstride again and--?

Belladonna?s shriek of rage drowned out whatever else he planned to say. She wrapped her hand around his throat and lifted him up to his feet, shaking him with every word: ?How. Could. You. Let. Them. Get. AWAY!?

His response was a gurgled, rasping attempt at a defense. She clearly didn?t like what she heard because Belladonna kept squeezing until he couldn?t say anything at all. Couldn?t breathe either. She enjoyed the feeling of his life ebbing away and grinned as he clawed at her forearm in a desperate bid to live.

?Mmm,? she sighed as she let him go. It was no use seeking the witch tonight. They had likely made it back to Kabuki Street already.

That was fine. They would just have to play another day.

((Adapted from live play with Eri and Belladonna! Part 2/3))

January 26, 2018

Jewell watched the water in her bathroom sink occasionally run red down the drain as she cleaned off her face, hands, and arms. She was still in her outfit from the Powerhouse Party: black sequin hotpants and a cropped white shirt that was torn and stained a brownish red. That was from where Koyliak had nailed her with those spiky gold heels. There was so much iron in her blood at this point that it was oxidizing as much as human blood, which was disturbing if she thought about it much, so she didn?t think about it at all. Instead, she mechanically cleaned herself up long after the blood was gone, washing her hands over and over again as she stood barefoot at the sink. Her black high heels had been abandoned somewhere between the Dragon?s Gate door to the sanatorium and her bathroom. The pretty necklace she had been wearing early in the evening had been lost to the brutal fight against Canaan.

Canaan

* * * * *

Jewell?s breathing was labored, her body aching as Cane caught her with one of his favorite combos: he spun out of reach and threw an elbow. Only this time he swung his arm in a wide arc so that his forearm caught her shoulder instead to spread the point of impact. She was important to him; he wasn't going to lay her out. Again.

It was a close thing though because she was as light as the breeze and grunted at the impact, almost losing her footing. Still, she knew how to take a hit and keep on rolling. She straightened up to face him again. The score was 4-2 against her when she tried to punch him in the face once more, a little tired of the way he kept knocking her down.

He didn't push her away from him this time. He caught the punch and held her tightly by the wrist. Enough to get the point and win the match, then tugged her close and bent down to kiss her. His grip on her wrist loosened the instant their mouths touched.

When he caught her wrist like that, signalling the end of the match, her left hand started to swing around like she was going to punch him anyway, a blind panic and fierce defensiveness momentarily seizing hold of her as she lost touch of place, time, and company. She was still in the fight, adrenaline pumping and her body rigid and tense when he tugged her close. Jewell was ready to pull away--ready to blindly hurt him despite a part of her brain screaming, ?This is Canaan!?--and took a deep, sharp breath that eased when he released her wrist and was cut off completely by his kiss.

It wasn't a chaste kiss, but neither did it linger. ?I miss you,? he whispered. It was honest.

She couldn't even say anything in response, couldn't think straight as she had her eyes shut tight for a moment, fighting against something terrible in her brain. The urge to pummel him into a bloody mess, to kill him for daring to touch her, had subsided when he released her but the memories that had provoked those feelings still lingered close to the surface, making her sick. ?I'm sorry.? Quiet, breathless. Jewell opened her eyes, barely able to look at Cane, and retreated quickly out of the ring.

* * * * *

She had felt herself blacking out again, overcome by the past and an unexpected kiss and the taste of blood in her mouth. Jewell had wanted that kiss for weeks and when it finally happened, she had almost lost her shit instead because it started the reel of horror in her head: The Temple of the Divine Mother. Th?odore T?n?bres. The Namekeeper. An iron shiv. The Vessel. ?Come on, you stupid faerie bitch. Why don?t you moan again for me like the dirty whore you are?? Memories even older that lingered still, haunting her.

Her hands shook as she leaned forward, her elbows finding the edge of the counter as she covered her face. Breathe in. Hold it. One, two, three, four, five. Breathe out. Her panic over the unexpected way Canaan had grabbed her wrist and the memories it had evoked (they were becoming familiar nightmares; terrible old friends that would always remain with her) had faded some, but she was horrified at how she had almost lost control again. She had been ready to hurt Canaan. Seriously hurt him. How could she--

Ting.

She straightened up, frowning. It felt like someone had plucked her spinal cord like a guitar string. The wards. It wasn?t an intrusion but there was a sense of disharmony. Something had gotten through that shouldn?t. Already her limbs were shaking, body trembling as exhaustion courted her after the exertion of the evening, both physical and emotional, and there was the iron in her heart: stoked to a steady, cold burn that kept her in constant pain. Jewell was tired, but there wasn?t anyone else to see to this. Ishmerai was gone. The Empress had come to rely on the knight for everything, but she was on her own now and necessity gave her the strength it always did to see this through. She took a shaky breath before pushing off the counter and heading downstairs.

Lavanya met her at the door to her apartments. ?What?s going on?? she asked the blonde, continuing on her way and expecting (knowing) she would join her.

If Lavanya noticed the state she was in or had any concerns, she failed to mention them. ?Someone came in through the New Haven door. They?re out in the gardens.?

Fear gripped her ailing heart. The portal. ?Let?s go.?

They ran down the stairs and out the front door into the cold night air. The snow was heavy on the ground, but someone had cleared a path leading into the garden earlier in the week. Everyone knew that Jewell liked to sit out there despite the weather, staring at the portal to Faerie, waiting for Ishmerai to come home and save her one more time. A light flutter of flakes was falling now, and there were clear footsteps marked along the path. They moved slowly, silently. Jewell restrained her shivering, walking on top of the snow in her bare feet. The wind blew across the mountain precipice above and through the evergreen needles in a mournful song.

She put her hand up suddenly to stop Lavanya, her eyes sharp even at night. There was a figure scuffling around the portal arch, silhouetted by the light spilling from Mallory?s beacon.

((Flashback adapted from the log of January 25, 2018 in the Iron Fists Garden.))

After, Jewell knelt at the place where the lantern had stood. What was left of Haizea?s body lay nearby, burnt beyond recognition. The woman turned ghoul had been torn to pieces by the spell and fried by the backlash of the portal. Jewell and Lavanya had suffered too: cut up by the fragments of glass and metal and burned by the wild energy let loose. The faerie didn?t know how long she had been out after the blast, but she had come to with Lavanya hovering over her--bleeding, anguished, worried.

The remaining House of Summer girls--only seven of them now--were huddled around her now too, shouting, screaming, arguing with each other. The fear in the air was palpable, their anguish and anger keen, but Jewell couldn?t focus on anything other than the piece of metal in her hands. A smooth curve with jagged edges, it had belonged to the lantern. It was supposed to guide Ishmerai home. It was supposed to bring her knight back to her. Her knight with his long dark hair, hard frown, and soft green eyes. Now? now how would he find his way out of the Far Lands? There was no light to guide him, and there was no lock of his hair to make another.

Ishmerai was lost to Faerie, just like her children.

Without him, Jewell was lost as well.

She bent forward, bowed under the weight of these trials. Ishmerai was gone. Aella, Calla, Judith, Samantha, and Haizea were all gone. And for what? So she could cling to the hopeless chance at life Mallory had offered her. So she could avoid facing her mortality.

The faerie had to face it now, kneeling there in the snow--shivering, bleeding, her heart beating tremulously--because the war was over. To achieve that slim chanced victory the witch had held out to her, Jewell knew she had to lose some battles and sacrifice some pawns, but this was the final blow. There was nothing left to fight for anymore. Ishmerai wouldn?t be returning. Certainly not before February 14th, and even if he did by some miracle, it didn?t matter.

Haizea had known the plans for her heart.

Which meant the Night Court surely knew and Belladonna knew. They knew the hope she had harbored and the desperate plan that had sent Ishmerai into the depths of Faerie from which he would never return. They knew the relic he sought and the heart she wanted to steal.

Which meant there would be no surviving for Jewell Ravenlock.

It had all been for nothing.

Despair made her cold as she listened to the cries of the House of Summer girls fill the garden where her last hope had been put to rest.

?What are we going to do? They?re going to kill us all!?

Ishmerai was gone.

?This is all your fault! You?ve been busy ****ing that Night Court trash--?

Her heart was broken.

?You did this to Haizea.?

There was no more hope.

?Judith was right, you can?t protect us! You can?t protect anyone!?

I?m sorry, Sapphire.

She stood up slowly, feeling stiff, old, and broken. More broken than she had felt since the day last February when she had awoken in the hospital with a cut on her arm and a hole in her heart; with tubes everywhere and her body used and abused; and with a branch of magnolias at her side, wrapped in dark blue cloth and secured with a silver pin that wouldn?t end her life no matter how many times she pricked her finger.

?Empress? Empress? What are we going to do??

Jewell blinked, turning slowly to look at Lavanya. What are we going to do? The question provoked only a blank stare from her. ?I don?t care.?

She walked away through the snow and into the sanatorium. She was tired. Maybe everyone would leave her alone now and she could actually get some sleep.

Before the sun came up, two of the girls were gone.

Jewell slept all day in a medicated haze to hide from her sorrow, pain, and despair; but she was still haunted by nightmares that had her turning fitfully, tangling the sheets around her as she reached desperately for someone who wasn?t there. When she woke in the evening, the sun setting in brilliant shades of orange and pink on the mountainside, there were fresh tears on her face, and in the bleary moments between dreaming and waking, she remembered all over again that the lantern had been destroyed, that Ishmerai was not coming back, that she was going to die.

And she remembered Sinjin?s text: ?I?m going back to Madrid for a week to check up on my sister ? if you need me, just ping me. Or come find me, in the most inter-global game of hide and seek of all time.?

If you need me.

Mother of Nature did she need the sinner now. There was a sob threatening to choke her, and it was only practice from years of dealing with crippling depression that got her out of bed. She ignored her growing number of wounds--the bruises and scrapes from the Powerhouse Party had been joined by a dark circle of bruises around her throat from the ghoul and an uncountable amount of cuts, abrasions, and burns from Mallory?s spell--and the way her heart hurt worse than it did before she had entered the Iron Fists Garden last night. Her head spun at every movement and her limbs were heavy as she started to gather clothes in a haphazard way. She ignored that too.

She needed to go. She needed to get out. The crushing weight of Haizea being turned into a ghoul, of so many of her secrets being revealed to the Night Court, of the likelihood of never seeing Ishmerai again, of dying was too much for even the powerful s?dhe to handle alone when it was coupled with Canaan?s kiss on her lips and her violent, visceral reaction.

It was odd that despite everything else that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, she still couldn?t shake off the way he had grabbed her wrist and how much she had wanted to hurt him in that moment. She was confused and frustrated too. Canaan wasn?t supposed to be kissing her anymore no matter how much he missed her and no matter how much she wanted him to because they were over. She had ****ed that up. Guilt ate away at her as much as the iron did (if not more so), adding to the sick feeling in her stomach that always lingered with the memories of her time spent under the influence of her True Name.

The Namekeeper?s voice had dominated her dreams again this afternoon.

Jewell shuddered to recall it. She stared into the small bag she was packing automatically without seeing the crumpled bunch of dresses inside it. Instead, she saw the room they had locked her in somewhere beneath an old condemned apartment building. It was small with a dirt floor. There was a bed against the wall. They didn?t use that at first. That came later.

It smelled like filth and misery, and The Namekeeper?s presence was always there with her. It had seeped inside every inch of her. It filled her up. It would not go away. It would not budge. She didn?t even want it to go away. Couldn?t want it or anything. She was an extension of him and nothing more. He had consumed her. Everything she was. Everything she had been. Everything she could ever be. Gone.

?Stooooop,? she groaned out, a light sweater crushed mercilessly within her fist. ?I am here. I am here. I am here.?

It took her several agonizing moments, unable to breathe, before she could ground herself. Her fingers finally found and dug into one of the bruises on her arm. Pain brought her back--it was the single constant in her life--and she could think straight again. Her preparations were even more frantic and hurried after that, and she dropped her phone when she initially grabbed it.

She grabbed it up off the floor, noticing the two messages Canaan had sent while she was sleeping:

Text to Jewell: Thanks cher. But stop apologizing.
Text to Jewell: There's nothing wrong with you.

She actually laughed. Nothing wrong with her. Jewell couldn?t remember a time when there wasn?t something wrong with her.

Text to Canaan: You know that's not true
Text to Canaan: But thank you

She hesitated before sending one more message because she didn?t think he wanted to hear it, but it was true:

Text to Canaan: I miss you too

She hadn?t a clue as to what she had actually packed, but it didn?t really matter. It would have to do as would the hasty glamour she wove around herself--not a hurt visible on her flawless skin, rounded ears, and hair like midnight. A pretty dream out of some Irish fairy tale.

Jewell sent two more texts on her way out the door:

Text to Sin: seven? eight? nine? ten
Text to Sin: Ready or not, here I come

February 1, 2018

Coming back to RhyDin after several days in Madrid was like waking up from a pleasant dream into a living nightmare. Jewell?s heart was still failing more every day and the cure was further out of reach every day, but she couldn?t just give up the fight no matter how much she might want to since she still had the promise made to Sapphire to fulfill: ?I promise I will survive this. No matter what.?

A seemingly impossible task. Survive with Belladonna after her. Survive against the ire of the Night Court. Survive despite the minutes of her life ticking away so rapidly now. Fourteen days. That was all she had left to figure out how to defy death a second time.

Once again, she had to break the enchantment around them. It was only a matter of time, and she had put it off long enough. ?The heart plan isn?t going to work.?

His thoughts had been wandering elsewhere -- around a book and a group of men huddled over it, around a small shadow-like creature he sent into the woods weeks before, around the perfect creature whose company he was sharing -- and he snapped back to reality as he looked across the room and toward her.

It was raining, and the sound of the gentle pattern against the long, tall windows of the Deadwood punctuated the brief silence that followed as he lifted his eyebrows and processed her statement: the heart plan isn?t going to work. ?It has to work,? he told her as he turned himself away from the window and focused his attention on Jewell. ?We have to make it work.? What other choice did they have?

The rain was pleasant and soothing, a song from her mother element, and the company more so, but even her smile for him could not fully erase the gravity of her expression. ?I knew it wouldn?t work when I came to you in Madrid.? She had been running from the truth then, but there was nowhere to run now. ?Ishmerai isn?t coming back with the relic, and they know about the plan even if he does somehow make it back.?

His expression wasn?t necessarily reproachful, but it was knowing. ?You?re backing yourself into a corner,? he murmured as he moved closer to her, gravitating like a moth to a flame. ?You?re not destined for failure. Don?t let yourself fall into that mindset.? The Spaniard reached for her, extending out one hand, palm raised as his face became neutral again. ?But if it does fail -- then it?s time to look for another plan.? There was always another way. Always.

She knew he would know and possibly even understand, or at least not hate her for keeping it from him. ?Wild creatures are most dangerous when they?re in a corner, Sin,? she admonished as she placed her hand in his, craving the reassurance of his touch. She needed to be at her most dangerous if she wanted to save her own life. ?And I do have an idea?? only then did Jewell hesitate. ?I don?t think you?ll care for it,? she admitted, quiet and anxious. Her heart fluttered a little and her fingers curled around his in response. Don?t go no matter what I say.

?What if I don?t need to live? What if--? she took a deep breath. ?What if I just need to survive??

He eased onto the couch beside her, his mouth twitching up at one corner for her chiding as his fingers wrapped around her own; he brought his other hand to place it on top of both of theirs. He wasn?t going anywhere, no matter how terrible her idea was.

?The difference between living and surviving is prancing, my ru?? He paused mid speech, catching the edge of intent to her words. A frown crossed his face. ?What do you mean?? She couldn?t be planning what he thought she was planning. Could she?

Her broken little heart was elated, as always, at his use of my, but quavered just as quickly at his frown. She licked her lips before pressing them together. This was harder than she expected, but she heard Theo?s offer so clearly: I don?t want to kill you. I?d much rather give you a new life and keep you forever. Jewell simply could not accept her own mortality. ?What if?? again she took a trembling breath to brace herself or perhaps him, ?what if I was kindred like you.? As much as she might want to, she did not look away from him.

He did not respond immediately, though his hands remained on her own. Sinjin looked deeply into her eyes ? he could practically sense her fear, her desperation and want ? but even her tentative offering made whatever soul he had squirm in his chest. He did not allow himself an instantaneous reaction; that would be cruel. Instead, he took a deep, unnecessary breath, and spoke softly.

?I became a kindred because of my best friend, Chaus,? he began. ?He was unwillingly sired by his old lover, Diab. He was ? miserable, really. It didn?t suit him, and Diab was crazed. So we found an old ritual that allowed someone that, instead of a siring, was an exchange. He would gain his mortality back and the other would become kindred.? His lips thinned into a thoughtful line, his expression distant. ?I didn?t have much for myself at the time. I was working as a whore, I had no family or friends here other than Chaus. I offered myself. The person who I was ? he died that day. There?s still a headstone on the shore that we put up as a joke, but it felt real enough to me. I became Sinjin Fai. I became? this.?

Now he looked away ? not for anything Jewell did, but for the little ember of hate he could feel burning inside himself. ?I?ve lost.. almost everything over the years from this. I lost who I was. I lost my friends, my family. My sister won?t look me in the eye. My addictions have driven away what I once had with Salvador. I became obsessed with power and risk and I rolled the dice and lost again and again. The man who taught me how to be a kindred ? I hate him and I love him, and I will die someday like he did because of all the failed calculations he?s made. I can?t feel like I used to. Every touch is distant, every pleasure is incomparable to the taste of blood and violence. I pretend. Most days it helps. I?ve learned to be comfortable in solitude.? He went silent for a moment, not even realizing his glamour had flickered away as he trailed deep into his thoughts, leaving a pale shell of a man holding Jewell?s hands.

When he looked back at her, his chill fingers lifted, reaching to cup her face with a deep sincerity and concern that he could not hide. ?You, Jewell, are one of the most alive people I have ever met. You?re right. Like this, you won?t live ? you will just survive. And that frightens me.? His brow furrowed, his voice still as quiet as a whisper. ?Are you sure there is no other way??

Her face was wet when he touched it, not because she was scared of this potential path laid out before her (although in a way it terrified her even more than death itself) but because she loved even the shell of who he once was and wanted to soothe his anguish and loss. ?I don?t know. Eva told me about a surgery, but for what? A few meager, stunted years where my heart can fail at any moment again? So we can sit here together and have this conversation four miserable years from now? I can?t--? Anxiety tightened her chest and made her breathless at the thought that she could be doomed to live a life that at all resembled the last year she had spent in almost constant misery. It was more than I can?t; it was please don?t make me.

Her voice was quiet and small, ?Every day I wake up and I am in pain. And every day I wish that I didn?t wake up?that day or any day. I catch these little moments of life in between, but they?re not enough. And everything they did to me, it?s just never going away. So maybe?? she looked down at their hands linked together rather than his grey eyes. ?Maybe it?s just time? If I can?t be whole, maybe I could be someone different. Maybe I want to be if I can?t just die because I can?t. I have to survive in some way. I promised.? Jewell squeezed his hand tightly, ?And this way, you wouldn?t be alone.?

He knew that this was not a conversation where either of them would walk away content or feeling better. There was nothing to win, no great solution to find -- it was an internal compromise on how Jewell would live her life that he was bearing witness to. The sound that escaped him wasn?t really a laugh, but it was a soft chuff of air that made him tilt his head down and avert his eyes at the unintentional, but bitter pill her last words chased into him like a wolf nipping at his heels. But when he lifted his eyes again, that moment had passed; he swept her tears away with the pads of his thumbs and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

?I can?t make this choice for you,? he told her. ?I know what I want to tell you and what I think you should do, but I haven?t lived your life. I don?t bear the same weight that you?re carrying. And I--? He stalled, and steeled himself, because though she hadn?t spoken it, he knew the question was coming. ?I can?t sire you, Jewell. I?m sorry.? Sinjin dropped his hand to her own again, squeezing it. ?But if this is something you choose, I will help you.? The thought frightened him -- the last thing he wanted was to become Ambrose and that felt more real every day -- but he wouldn?t abandon her like he had been so long ago.

?I don?t choose it, but I fear it?s been thrust upon me now.? She was dismayed that she had somehow hurt when she had meant to soothe, and that he would not do what she had not yet asked of him, but her relief was greater. She could not bare the thought of asking him to do anything that would only hurt him more, or the way he might have viewed her after if he did it. And she was grateful that he saved her from putting her request into words. The day she sat on Kalamere?s couch, covered in dust and soaked in Ishmerai?s blood, and asked him to kill her was a moment which still featured regularly in her nightmares and was one of a hundred painful memories that she could not forget. It served as an eerie parallel to how she sat with Sin now, but he was a very different man from the half-elf she had loved so foolishly, and at least he didn?t ask her, ?How do you want it done?? No, instead he offered his help willingly for something he did not want her to do at all so that she would not be alone. Jewell would never forget that ever.

Foolish words were already forming on her lips, but they were the only thing she could offer him in return for such a priceless gift, ?But I promise I will only do it if I feel I absolutely must, and I think I know how.? Jewell lifted their hands joined together, pressing her lips to his knuckles with a smile not befitting their grim conversation, ?Tell me darling, what do you think about letting the Night Court sire me and then burning it down together??

((Written together with Sinjin <3))

February 2, 2018

Jewell sat at her vanity, staring down at the collection of makeup, jewelry, and blades spread across the surface. She was supposed to be getting ready for her birthday party, but instead she just sat there thinking about how she so rarely organized her belongings. It was a terrible habit, really. She didn?t even wear makeup too often, but she liked to collect the pretty, shimmery powders in different colors and could never resist bringing home a piece of sparkly jewelry, a new dagger, or set of throwing knives.

The result was a mess.

Maybe, after everything was over, she would be more organized. More on top of things.

Maybe she would be different.

?The person who I was ? he died that day. There?s still a headstone on the shore that we put up as a joke, but it felt real enough to me. I became Sinjin Fai. I became? this.?

On the anniversary of the day of her birth, it seemed fitting that Jewell would contemplate her death--just twelve days away--but such contemplation scared her. Her injured, failing heart quaked, and her arms scattered a necklace and broach to the floor when she buried her face within them.

Jewell did not want to die.

She did not want to die a true death but neither did she want the person who she was today to die, trapping her in the hell-like existence Sinjin had described. She would not be able to feel like she did now, and suddenly the constant pain she was in felt like a blessing. Her sense of touch would be distant, and she savored the memory of Kal?s kiss against her forehead as he stabbed her in the heart. Every pleasure would prove incomparable to the taste of blood and glory of violence, and she mourned the simple yet soul-fulfilling delight of being with someone she loved.

Instead of a vibrant life lived to its fullest, she would have solitude. And oh how she feared solitude the most! Solitude which had nearly destroyed her in Faerie, turning her bitter and cold.

Sitting there, curled forward at her vanity alone, the little faerie cried with the abandon of someone truly and hopelessly lost. The way forward was obscured, and she lacked the conviction she held when she faced the end of her life just last year. Then, she had been determined to sacrifice her own future to save her loved ones pain. It seemed too much to ask that she make the same sacrifice to save herself pain now.

?Ishmerai,? she cried, her slender shoulders shaking in her anguish, ?please? come back.?

February 6, 2018

Although she felt fairly certain that Ishmerai would not return in time and that her fate and continued existence was therefore in the hands of the Night Court, Jewell felt obligated to at least give the appearance of planning to save her own life. She had told Sapphire she would do her best, and in a way she had made a similar promise to Sinjin: ?I promise I will only do it if I feel I absolutely must.?

She could not give up so easily. There was also still the fear of unlife to face and the idea that if she did not have a plan in place and Ishmerai did manage to get home, all his trials would have been for naught.

The Empress pulled out her phone, flipping through it until she found the group list Sapphire had created for her labelled Team Awesome.

Group Text to Team Awesome from Jewell: I think I got everyone on this list?? Mallory, I don?t have Eri?s number
Group Text to Team Awesome from Jewell: Can we meet at RhyDin Grind this afternoon/evening to chat?
Group Text to Team Awesome from Jewell: I?d like some help in trying to save my life

Group Text to Team Awesome from Sapphire: I?ll be there!

Group Text to Team Awesome from Jewell: No. Everyone except you. Stay home or I?ll kick your ass.
Group Text to Team Awesome from Jewell: Also, stop sleeping with your phone under your pillow

Group Text to Team Awesome from Mallory: tagging eri in. we?ll be there.

* * * * *

Jewell got to RhyDin Grind thirty minutes before everyone else was planned to be there just to give herself time to fret in the little section--with clear sight lines to the front door and the door leading to the kitchen--she had chosen to have this powwow with her friends. There was a couch and several comfortable looking chairs surrounding a coffee table, but the Empress could not sit still for more than thirty seconds. Every time she sat down, she was up again immediately. Even once everyone was there and seated (or standing with their arms crossed and holding up a wall as Sal was wont to do), she couldn?t seem to settle down.

?Okay? so,? Jewell was off to an awkward start already, running her hand back through her blue hair. ?I had hoped Ishmerai would be here to do this, but he?s not so I?m trying to figure it out here.? She took a deep breath, ?I think you all know I?m dying. Kal stabbed me in the heart last winter with iron and it?s been slowly killing me ever since. And Mallory,? she nodded to the witch, ?divined a few weeks ago that it?d stop beating on February 14th, a year to the day from when Kal stabbed me.

?Conveniently, there is a s?dhe running around these days that just so happens to be my twin from a different timeline. So the plan to make sure I don?t die again is to steal her heart and use the relic Ishmerai brings back from Faerie, which Mallory so kindly discovered for me,? she gestured to the witch, ?and steal Belladonna?s heart and make it my own.?

The wall was staring uncomprehendingly at the back of Jewell?s head. She could feel it. When she turned her head to look, she realized it was Sal looking at her this way. How easily he could blend into the background and become one with the environment. His brows were pulled together and accented a severely puzzled expression. She was used to Sal, but it still made her a little uncomfortable. It didn?t help that her heart was acting funny and she had downed at least one cup of coffee before they all got there. She lifted her brow in question, and that was all the prompting he needed to actually speak.

?I don?t understand.? That much was obvious. ?Why,? he asked, ?do you need this heart specifically?? And, said the pause. ?What relic??

Jewell shifted so her back wasn?t to anyone for the time as much as possible, but she addressed Sal mostly. ?It is a heart equal to my own because she?s me. There is no chance of rejection, and there is little chance that it will change me at all. Mallory will have to explain the relic.? She looked to the witch expectantly.

That answer did not appear to fully satisfy him. Salvador?s brows remained knit and he frowned but said nothing further. His scrutinous gaze also affixed to Mallory. He shifted just slightly, pressing his shoulder into the wall as if to scratch an itch, and waited.

?The relic,? Mallory began, leaning forward from where she sat indian-style on the couch, ?is the Starlight Basin, one of the so-called relics of the old gods. In Faerie ? in Jewell?s version of the fae realms, anyway ? the first gods became what they were by consuming and absorbing each other?s bodies and power, using their vital essence to make these traits their own? and as if they had always been their own. As if the Three-Faced Lady had always had each face, and always had the lump of coal in her throat that let her poison with her words, when those traits were almost certainly stolen from other beings.

?As far as Jewell?s body would be concerned, there would be no year where the iron poisoned her heart and weakened the rest of her.

?But, the way the first arch-fae used their magic is worlds apart from the magic of Faerie today. To tap into that transformative, identity-altering power, we need something enchanted by these beings, like the Starlight Basin, to alter the magic flowing from both Jewell and Belladonna and complete a ritual to give each the other?s heart? and change their bodies as if that had always been the case.?

The witch leaned back slightly, glancing aside to Eri on the couch, then looked closely at Sal and Jewell as she raised her mug for a slow sip. Unfortunately, Salvador?s expression had not much changed. The hard furrow of his brows and tight frown indicated that Mallory?s explanation had only confused him further.

?Right,? Jewell played with the end of her sleeves, tugging them down over her hands, ?that. Because it?s not just my heart anymore. The iron has been eating away at me more and more for months now. It?s why I get so tired. It?s continually burning me everywhere, and my body keeps trying to heal itself only to get burned again. If all I get is a new heart? My body will still be poisoned with iron so much that it?s unlikely I will survive anyway.?

?Okay,? Salvador said slowly, his tone a disgruntled mumble. His crossed arms constricted tighter together and he shifted uncomfortably against the wall. ?So why are we here? What do you need us to do??

Jewell bit her cheek hard enough to taste her iron-tainted blood. ?You don?t have to be here, but when,? she wanted to say if but she was dedicated to maintaining this front now, ?Ishmerai returns, I?m going to need help getting the heart. Belladonna knows I need it now and she?s aligned herself with the Night Court, so there?s likely to be some faeries and vampires to kill when the time comes.?

?If we can locate her or draw her out, I can bind her with your blood,? Mallory offered, then paused, frowning thoughtfully. ?But? if someone else can find her and bind her until you can take her out, would it be better for me to keep out of this? Just chill with you, Jewell, readying the ritual, until the others have Belladonna in hand??

?I think she?s going to be easy to find,? Jewell admitted. ?She?s not running.?

?Why the **** wouldn?t she run?? the witch asked almost immediately. ?It?s what I?d do in her place. Wait out your death in some extraplanar hole.?

Jewell added in an abashed rush, blushing, ?I maaaay have blood bonded one of the Night Court members to me and he spilled their plan with um? some encouragement.?

Though Sinjin had been silent up until this point, this made the other Spaniard lift his head from where he had been staring in thought at the floor. His eyes darted twice -- once to Jewell and once to Salvador, his expression inscrutable -- before he looked aside entirely again, muttering an absent curse under his breath in his native tongue.

?Still doesn?t answer why,? Mallory muttered, her frown deepening.

?I know.? Jewell finally stopped her anxious movements, settling down on the arm of a chair. ?He didn?t know, and I can?t figure it out. But the Night Court doesn?t want me dead now because of the blood bond. Their plan is to have me sired instead, and she seems to be going along with it for whatever reason. Which means they?re both invested in me not getting the heart, so if we go for it,? she forgot to say when this time, ?I think they?ll be waiting. But as to why she?s going along with it? What she?s got up her sleeve? I just? I don?t know.? It had been bugging her since she had chatted with Theo, but the answer was still elusive. What did Belladonna want more than Jewell?s death?

Cane, silent until then and motionless in his wingback chair, finally stirred. He cleared his throat, a quizzical expression on his face. ?Is there some reason we?re waiting? Why aren?t we getting the heart now?? His gaze darted briefly toward Salvador where he was holding up the wall, then back to Jewell.

Mallory?s curious gaze turned from her boss back to Jewell, drumming her fingernails on her giant mug of coffee. The thought of going after the deadly faerie queen weighed all the heavier once she considered how much sooner the confrontation could come?

Jewell paled, her heart in her throat and her voice quiet, ?I was waiting for Ishmerai. There isn?t? there?s no point if he doesn?t return.?

The Cajun shook his head. ?But we?d have it. The bitch would be dead, she wouldn?t keep ****ing with you like she?s been, you could ditch whatever this bond to the Night Court is. **** ?em all. Then all we?re doing is waiting for Ishmerai.?

?We need her alive,? Mallory began gently, ?but -- ?

?So then we kidnap her,? Cane interrupted.

The witch nodded, looking back to Jewell again.

She was shaking her head. ?No. At what price? We do this and then Ishmerai doesn?t come back and who gets hurt in the process for nothing? Who loses their life for nothing??

?But you said people are already getting hurt,? he countered.

?I already told you that if this doesn?t work, we?re feeding her heart to the pigs anyway, and I meant it,? Mallory said. ?This isn?t a matter of if we?re killing Belladonna. I?m not living with that murderous bitch stalking our steps any longer than I have to,? she added with a scowl, shooting a look aside to Eri and back.

Eri glanced over to Mallory and nodded firmly. The delinquent?s shoulders rose in a shrug. ?I get the feeling she would hold a grudge forever. Best to shut it down. The best defense is the attack.?

?Well then kill her after I?m dead,? Jewell snapped, standing again. ?I?m not having any more blood on my hands for nothing.?

The Cajun scowled at her. ?Going by your logic, how is going after her now any different from going after her when Ishmerai is back? People die now or people die then. Personally, I?m of the opinion that you happen to have a few aces up your sleeve who can more than handle it. Sal?s literally built for this kind of ****,? he said, gesturing toward the Spaniard with an aggressive toss of the hand.

Jewell wrapped her arms around herself defensively, ?It?s different. Now? There?s no hope. We?d be risking everything for nothing.?

?You?re not nothing,? Sal said sternly. The Cajun?s brusque gesture had made him twitch and look elsewhere. Now he straightened his posture, tense. ?And Cane?s right. This is what I?m built for.? A dangerous, literal gleam passed through his irises.

?They?re right,? the elder Spaniard murmured quietly, coming back again. ?We have some potential to be able to play this time to our hands. Take her and the Night Court off guard.? Lord knows that Sinjin knew how to make a ruckus with that group.

?Can you bind her?? Mallory lifted her chin to look at Sal. She had some idea how deadly he could be.

?Do you actually need her alive?? Cane interjected. ?Or can you do the ritual with a heart that?s been? preserved?? The inflection implying supernatural means.

Mallory shook her head, though her eyes narrowed at Cane?s intonation. ?Only if it was still beating? then? maybe. Maybe?? She muttered a few quiet curses and bent over the armrest, rifling through her backpack for a certain heavy, lead-lined box. She pulled it into her lap with a grunt, and took some time undoing the locks before removing the Primordial Vitaeum.

?Amante?? Cane asked, lifting his gaze to Salvador expectantly. Sinjin?s eyes followed along and ended up on Salvador too, the kindred?s shoulders straightening.

?I can keep it beating,? Salvador confirmed simply. There again passed the preternatural shimmer through his eyes. A savage smile split the Cajun?s face in response.

Mallory let out a sudden laugh, not entirely appropriate for the topic at hand. ?Well that?s ****ing brilliant, because I can ****ing do it!? She slapped her hand against the grimoire?s ancient, faintly gleaming pages and grinned up at everyone. ?It?s been done that way before. I?d have to completely change the structure of the circles I?ve been practicing, but a beating heart would count as a living participant in the ritual.?

?Gross,? Sinjin quipped cheerfully.

?Blood magic,? the witch shrugged blithely, to which Salvador, strangely, smiled.

Jewell had fallen silent, subdued both by Sal?s assertion that she was not nothing and their rapid planning which went against all her wishes. She was grasping for something, anything but ended up just sinking onto a chair, defeated, when she came up with nothing instead. ?When do we go after her??

Wordlessly, Sinjin reached from where he was sitting and touched her shoulder; it was alright, and this could be the answer they were all seeking. She refused to look up at any of them, but her fingers sought his and wrapped around them in response. His hawk brown eyes lifted up, focusing on Salvador and Canaan. ?The sooner the better, I imagine?? And then his gaze snapped to Mallory. ?How long do we all need to prepare??

?If you don?t need anyone to bind her,? she said to Sinjin, with a quick glance aside at Salvador, ?then all I need to do is practice the altered ritual. It should take me a little less than an hour to perform the spell once? Ishmerai comes back with the relic,? she added, fingers tensing around the edge of the grimoire in her lap. ?If I can take the day off tomorrow to practice my circles??? She looked between Cane (who was already nodding), Sinjin, and Jewell. ?I?ll be ready.?

The kindred nodded. ?Then -- assuming all that goes as planned -- all we need to worry about after kidnapping her is any ire from the Night Court or her other allies afterward. Yes?? He lifted his eyebrows as he looked around the group of them, seeking confirmation.

The pressure on her chest was suffocating when she thought about her conversation with Theo just two days ago and how great the Night Court?s ire would truly be. Jewell nodded, staring down at the points of her shoes, her answer almost inaudible, ?Yes.?

In contrast, the sinner looked abundantly relieved. ?Then let me do what I do best. I?ll mind the Night Court.? Sinjin had a small list of skills, but Irritating Ruckus was high on that list.

The faerie didn?t bother to hide her gesture of finally releasing Sin?s hand so she could reach into her pocket, withdrawing her little tin of pills and popping more than one under her tongue. She could talk around them easily enough, ?Just tell me when we?re going and we?ll do it and deal with the fallout later.? Clearly, she was including herself in the Kill Belladonna plan even if she was as weak as a kitten and her skin was on fire, her body feverish from the constant, cold burn of the iron.