A Whateley Academy Adventure

Drinking and Gambling

by

Morpheus

 

Part Four

 

Seattle Wa, Thursday late afternoon, Dec 27th 2007
Roulette

BEEP BEEP BEEP

I awoke to this sound, to the bustle going on around me, to the sight of white ceiling tiles above and to a familiar antiseptic scent. A hospital. I’d had a burnout. Again.

We’d been attacked by those men in grey uniforms, completely unprovoked as far as I knew. That wasn’t a surprise though because there were always people willing to cause problems for reasons that were entirely their own. This was really no different than when my friends and I had fought the Triangle goons.

I remembered the fight, Mom getting shot, and then the surge of pain as the burnout tore through my body. It had been a bad one, worse than normal. The fact that I was in the hospital again was proof of that. Most of my micro-burnouts were over within a couple minutes.

Burnouts were old news. I dreaded them and knew that one day, one would probably kill me, but that was an old dread. The memory of my mom being shot was a new one.

I sat up in bed and looked around, only to let out a sigh of relief when I saw my mom sitting in a chair off to the side. She was focused on a small piece of equipment, what appeared to be a piece of her freeze cannon. I knew Mom well enough to know that she was using that as a way to distract herself from something. From me. My eyes went to the bandage that was wrapped around her upper arm.

“Mom?” I asked.

Mom looked up and her eyes flashed with relief. “Amy…” A moment later, she was standing right beside me, holding my hand and asking, “How are you feeling?”

“All right,” I answered, which was the truth.

Whenever my burnouts were over, I was usually left in pretty decent condition. It was a side effect of my mode changes since every time I changed, it reset my body and healed all the injuries I had, including the damage caused by the burnout itself.

“What about you?” I asked, indicating her arm.

Mom gave me a weak smile. “Just a scratch. You were the one who had to get resuscitated twice.”

“Twice?” I asked in surprise.

“This was a bad one,” she told me with a grim expression, tears forming in her eyes. “You almost… You almost didn’t make it.”

I hesitated for a moment before letting out a long sigh. “Damn.”

Mom looked like she was about to say something else when Kara peeked her head into the room. She saw me sitting up and her eyes went wide with relief. “You’re awake…”

Kara practically ran over and threw her arms around me, giving me the biggest hug she could. I could feel the worry in her grip…and the relief.

“About time,” Kara finally said when she pulled away. “You’ve been out for months.”

“Months?” I gasped in surprise.

“Hours,” Mom corrected with a glare at Kara.

“Well, it felt like months,” Kara responded.

Collin chose that moment to step into the room as well, though he kept his distance. He was limping and I noticed that he had blood on his shirt and his own bandage on his side.

“How bad?” I asked.

“It hurts,” Collin admitted. “But I’m an exemplar. Give me a couple weeks and I won’t even have a scar.”

“Exemplars are durable,” Mom admitted. “Even the low level ones.” She looked at her own bandage and added, “Makes me wish I was one.”

“I wish I was an exemplar,” Kara said with a sigh.

I chuckled at that. “Be careful what you wish for. One of my friends is an exemplar, and she’s stuck looking like she’s ten years old. And I know others who are a lot more extreme.”

Then I noticed the worried look on Collin’s face and the notable fact that two people from the fight were missing.

“What happened?” I asked.

Mom hesitated a moment before carefully answering, “Your friend…”

“Gwen lured them away from us,” Collin said with a grim expression. “She took off running, and those goons all ran off chasing her.”

“No,” I gasped.

“Gwen is GOOD at running away,” Collin assured us. “And if those guys do manage to catch her, you can bet that she’ll make them wish they hadn’t.”

“Uncle Kyle is out looking for her,” Kara added. “But so far, he hasn’t found her.”

I nodded at that, then decided that I should take care of my normal ritual before I lost track. This was something that I did after every burnout…and every morning when I first woke up. I tried to determine which power set I currently had, because if I didn’t know what powers I had, I didn’t know how to avoid having an accident with them.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, paying close attention to my body and surroundings. My senses were no sharper than normal and I didn’t feel any stronger or healthier either. That meant that I wasn’t in exemplar mode.

There were no signs of other people’s thoughts in my head. I opened my eyes and stared at the coffee cup next to the chair where Mom had been waiting. When I tried to move it with my mind, there was no effect at all. I wasn’t in psi mode.

Next came energizer mode. I didn’t feel the electro-magnetic energy that was nearly everywhere, which meant that I didn’t have this power either. Nor could I feel a pool of essence starting to gather, which ruled out wizard mode.

“It looks like I’m a devisor now,” I mused since that was my last power set, which meant that I had to be a devisor by default.

“Are you okay?” Kara asked me with a worried look.

“Fine,” I replied automatically before glancing around at the hospital room we were in. “At least, as fine as I can be, considering the circumstances. I was just trying to figure out which powers I’m working with now.”

“That sounds annoying,” Collin commented as he came closer.

“It can be,” I assured him.

Then I noticed something on Collin’s shoulder. It was a long green thread. No, it was a long green hair. An idea suddenly struck me.

“Lean over,” I told Collin, who gave me a curious look but did just that.

I carefully plucked off the single green hair and held it up triumphantly. “With this, I can cast a tracking spell to find Gwen.”

Collin’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

“I thought you just said you were a devisor,” Kara pointed out.

I nodded at that. “Yeah, but I have some essence stored in a battery...enough for one or two spells.”

Tracking spells were simple when you had hair or blood from the person you were tracking. It was always easier for me to cast spells when I was in wizard mode, but I suspected that this was more psychosomatic than anything else. Regardless of which mode I was in, I could handle this spell. It would just take me about fifteen minutes.

“AMY!” Kara suddenly exclaimed. “YOUR HAND!”

“My hand?” I asked blankly.

I raised my hand and then stared at it in surprise. My hand looked like it was made of gold metal, or at least, coated with it. It was also spreading up my arm. It didn’t hurt, so all I could do was stare for several long seconds before I suddenly realized what was happening.

“Well,” I mused with a weak chuckle. “This is new.”

 

Seattle Wa, Thursday late afternoon, Dec 27th 2007

“Report,” Adam Krayche ordered.

“We’ve contained the target within a general area,” Ty Green responded in a professional tone. “We haven’t laid eyes on her in several minutes, but we are confident that she hasn’t escaped our perimeter.” Then in a more casual tone, he admitted, “This one is slippery. If it wasn’t for these goggles, we would have lost her a long time ago.”

“Magic and illusion,” Krayche mused, reluctantly agreeing with his partner’s assessment. Their target was slippery.

Krayche thought about how the target had put Hayes out of action by slipping a dagger into his side. Hayes would live…probably…but he was no longer in any shape to continue with the current operation.

The entire operation had been a complete cluster so far, starting with the failed ambush. They’d been spotted too soon and had lost the element of surprise. Things might have gone differently if they’d had time to position a sniper, or if they’d had better intelligence on the target’s companions. Those companions had been a lot more dangerous than expected, with weapons and abilities that hadn’t been planned for.

Hayes had been badly injured. Colby would suffer minor frostbite, but not enough to take him off mission. Other members of his team had their own injuries as well, but like Colby, they would be able to continue.

Unfortunately, the botched ambush resulted in the target slipping through their fingers, at least, for the moment. However, Krayche was confident that they would get her soon.

“Take the target alive, if possible,” Krayche ordered. “Dead if not.”

“Alive?” Green asked skeptically.

“Alive, we can interrogate her before putting her down,” Krayche explained. “We can gather valuable intel on that school she goes to and on the local mutants.” He scowled at that, thinking of the botched ambush, largely caused by a lack of information. “It’s time we started planning for future operations.”

“Understood,” Green responded.

Seattle Wa, Thursday late afternoon, Dec 27th 2007
Absinthe

I pulled back into the recessed doorframe, my eyes locked on one of the drones that were flying about overhead, watching the entire area. I couldn’t take to the rooftops without being spotted immediately. If it hadn’t been for those things, I would have lost those grey bastards a long time ago.

It seemed blatantly unfair that these guys had goggles that could see through my illusions, drones that kept following me, and the advantage of numbers. I wasn’t sure of exactly how many of these guys there were, but there were at least half a dozen of them. Normally, I’m a big fan of unfair fights, but not when it gives the other side the advantage.

“Good thing I have drones of my own,” I mused.

With that, I shifted my focus to my pixies, one after another. One was perched on a street light, watching a pair of armed men heading in my direction. Another was on a window ledge, quietly following the one woman who was with them. A third was watching me, keeping an eye on the area around me in case someone tried sneaking up.

Once I’d checked on each of my pixies, I carefully loaded another spell into one of them. The pixies were both my eyes and my hands, and hands worked best when they held the right tools.

I silently cursed the fact that my main trick didn’t work on these guys, but that wasn’t anything new. My illusions hadn’t worked on Jericho either, and as painful as that loss had been, it had taught me a thing or two as well. Illusions might be my primary trick, but they weren’t my only one.

Then I turned my attention back to my actual surroundings, still aware of where my enemies were in relation to me. I’d been able to keep a step or two ahead of the gray bastards for several hours using that little trick with my pixies, but it wouldn’t work forever. It was about time to try something else.

Two of the attackers were now close enough that they could see me, and the only thing preventing them from doing so was the recessed door frame. However, even that would only keep them from seeing me for a few more seconds. The door behind me was locked so I didn’t have anywhere I could go.

My eyes narrowed as I realized that I was going to have to do something that I didn’t want to do. Until now, I’d been avoiding the normal people on the street, even using my illusions to keep them from seeing me and realizing that something was wrong.

With that, I stepped out into the open, already crafting a new illusion. The goons in grey might be immune to my illusions, but everyone else was still vulnerable to them. A moment later, I suddenly looked like a cute and helpless little girl while the armed men now appeared to be a couple of dirty and ragged crackheads.

“HELP,” I yelled out. “THEY’RE TRYING TO TAKE ME.”

Suddenly, nearly every eye in the area turned to stare. The goons froze in place, clearly confused by what was going on. Then they were suddenly surrounded by well-meaning bystanders who wanted to help.

I felt a little guilty about doing this, about getting all of these people involved. However, I’d noticed that the attackers had been extremely careful about the bystanders, even when it meant letting me slip away when they easily could have shot. I hated using these people as distractions and speedbumps, but if that was what it took to escape…

I took advantage of the opportunity to run, leaving the attackers surrounded by people. I just wished that I could have seen them without those goggles, just so I could have seen the looks on their faces.

The drone was still flying overhead, tracking my location for the other attackers. I’d taken that into account and prepared for it. One of my pixies flew up to the drone and then exploded, taking the thing out. It fell to the ground and shattered on impact.

“No more eyes on me,” I muttered, reminding myself that there were more drones up there too. Once those got into range, I’d have to take them out the same way. “At least not from above.”

I was good at running, a lot better than I was at hiding without my illusions to help. All I needed was a path and I’d be able to get past any obstacles in my way. That was what free running was all about.

The female attacker came out ahead of me, surprising me since she was a lot faster than I’d expected. I’d expected to be well past that intersection before she arrived.

One of my pixies flew down and hit her from behind, blasting her with a couple hours worth of glamour all at once. She staggered then began swinging her hand at something that only she could see. I noticed that she didn’t fire her gun, demonstrating a bit more restraint than most people had in that situation.

I ran past the woman and made it a short distance further before I found another of the grey goons blocking my path, pointing a gun straight at me. This one was even more of a surprise than the woman since I’d somehow missed him entirely with my pixies. He barely hesitated before opening fire on me, though I leapt behind a car to avoid being hit.

“Oh shit,” I gasped in surprise.

The woman had been careful enough to hold her fire even when under the influence of my glamour, but this guy… He was firing recklessly, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that he was shooting through windows and possibly hitting bystanders.

I crouched down behind the car, grimacing in anger. I needed to get away, but at the same time… This guy needed a lesson.

A few seconds later, the attacker suddenly heard a deep growl from behind him, right before something seemed to touch his shoulder. He snapped around and opened fire, but there wasn’t anything behind him.

Illusion. Specifically, audio and tactile illusions. I could do more than just the visual kind I was known for, but these type were harder to pull off and not nearly as powerful. Still, those goggles couldn’t do anything for that type of illusion, which made them perfect for now.

I leapt out from behind the car and charged at the man, drawing Needle and extending the handle so that it became a spear shaft. He snapped back around towards me, but not in time. Needle came down on his wrist before he could aim the weapon at me again, hitting it with the shaft just beneath the blade. There was a crack and a scream of pain as he dropped the weapon. I continued moving, kicking the side of his knee so that there was a ‘pop’, right before he dropped to the ground, screaming even louder.

“OWENS,” one of the other attackers shouted out.

My brief delay had given his friends a chance to catch up, and they were almost on me again. I muttered a curse, then turned to run.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light and the nearest attacker abruptly staggered and dropped to his knees with a loud grunt. I looked up and saw two people on a motorcycle, both of them pointing weapons at the grey goons. Kyle and Amy.

“Come with me if you want to live,” Kyle called out in bad Schwarzenegger accent.

Amy slipped off the back of the motorcycle and opened fire with her needle gun, shooting at the nearest attacker and apparently missing. She looked annoyed, but then, a gold metal gleam spread over her skin until she suddenly looked like a gold statue wearing clothes.

“What the…?” I stared in surprise and a little confusion.

One of the attackers shot at her, and she jumped behind a car for cover, but wasn’t fast enough. She let out a grunt, then laughed. “What do you know? I’m sort of bullet proof now… Or laser proof.”

Kyle opened fire with another shot from his energy weapon, forcing one of the attackers to find cover. I looked to my would-be rescuers, trying to figure out how I could reach them. There were too many of the grey bastards between us, and more seemed to be arriving every second.

Then I noticed it, a thick wall of fog just rushing in. My eyes went to the source, one of the armed attackers who was wearing a gas mask. That sent warning flags off in my head, especially when the other attackers quickly began putting on small breathing masks as well.

“LOOK OUT!” Kyle warned. “DON’T BREATH IT.”

“Too late,” I gasped. Everything suddenly felt faint and distant.

“ABSINTHE,” Amy called out, but Kyle grabbed her and pulled her back so that she didn’t get swallowed by the gas as well. “I can’t see her through that cloud…”

I collapsed to the ground, suddenly too tired to move. Everything was quickly fading away, but I could still hear a couple of the grey goons talking near me.

“About time,” one of them said. “If I knew we wanted her alive ahead of time, I could have brought this stuff with us then.”

“It would have made the ambush easier,” another one agreed.

“We have the target,” a third attacker said, his voice strong and decisive. “Load her up and lets get out of here before anyone else shows up to interfere.”

Seattle Wa, Thursday late afternoon, Dec 27th 2007
Roulette

I stared at the thick wall of fog while Kyle held me back. It crept closer and he pulled, though he didn’t have to. I wanted to run in and grab Gwen, but knew that this would be a bad idea.

“I can hold my breath,” I tried to say, though I already knew that this would be a bad idea.

“If that is what I think it is,” Kyle responded, “then she’s already out cold. Besides, you won’t be able to see a damn thing, and going in there blind is a BAD idea.”

There was movement inside the fog, the grey attackers who were wearing gas masks, small ones that only covered their mouths and noses. They already had those goggles protecting their eyes, and probably to let them see in that stuff.

When the fog stopped advancing, Kyle and I stopped retreating. I glanced back at his motorcycle, a beat-up old dirt bike with Washington plates. I didn’t know where he found that since we’d all come up in Beth’s car, and considering the situation, I wasn’t sure it was even a good idea to ask.

Kyle and I had come after Gwen alone, with just the two of us. Mom was injured and currently unarmed, Kara had no power or weapons, and Collin… Well, Collin had wanted to come, had practically insisted on it, but Kyle only had room for one more person on the bike and I was the one with the tracking spell.

Mom and Kara had both been upset when I’d volunteered, especially since I’d only just woke up from a bad burnout. However, if we wanted to find Gwen before it was too late, then we needed my spell.

A minute later, the thick fog started to dissipate, letting us see the area that it had previously covered. There was no sign of Gwen or those armed men.

I grimaced in frustration and concern, but at the same time, I sort of relaxed a part of me as well. The gold metal that covered my skin began to crumble and fall away, vanishing entirely just a few seconds later.

I was still a bit surprised by the fact that my latest burnout had left me with yet another power set. Now, I seemed to be a manifestor with an armored shell, similar to what Iron Rose had back at school. It didn’t seem to make me any stronger, just harder to injure, as the new hole in my shirt proved.

Unfortunately, even with a new power, I hadn’t been able to help Gwen. All I’d been able to do was arrive just in time to watch them take her.

Just then, I noticed movement from the corner of my eye, and when I turned for a better look, I saw Crucibelle dropping out of the sky and landing a short distance away. She looked around with a grim expression.

“Collin called me and told me what was going on,” Crucibelle announced. She looked at me and Kyle. “I see damage and some fading smoke. What happened here?”

“Those people captured Gwen and escaped,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and even, though I certainly didn’t feel that way.

“They used some of the Fogmaker’s gas to do it,” Kyle added grimly.

Crucibelle gave him a sharp look. “The Fogmaker was here?”

“No,” Kyle corrected her. “Just some armed men in SWAT type gear, who seem to be baselines.” He gestured to where the gas had been. “But it looks like they also used some of the Fogmaker’s gear. They don’t seem the type that he’d work with, but he has been known to sell some of his equpment in the past.”

“The Fogmaker?” I asked blankly.

“A pacifist supervillain,” Kyle explained. “He hates conflict, so he usually floods an area with his fog…a mixture of knockout gas and smoke screen, then he just walks in and takes what he wants.”

“We can still find her,” I insisted.

With that, I held out a square of paper that had been folded up until it was almost like a sealed envelope. The inside pocket contained the strand of Gwen’s hair, as well as some runes that I’d learned from my new book. The outside was unmarked, except for an arrow that I’d drawn on the surface.

“I have a tracking spell,” I announced, holding the envelope flat in my hand. It spun a little until the arrow was pointing in a different direction, almost like a compass that was pointing north. But in this case, Gwen was ‘north’. “It isn’t as good as what Witchling can do, but…”

“But you’re here and she isn’t,” Crucibelle finished. She shook her head. “She and the rest of my team are still chasing down the Narrator, but Goodboy will be a lot more useful for that than I am.”

Then Crucibelle suddenly snapped around, her eyes locking on something. I followed her gaze and saw him, one of the grey attackers. He was on the ground, dragging towards an alley entrance to get away, his goggles and gas mask still covering his face. From the way he was moving, one of his legs had been really messed up.

“It looks like one of them got left behind in the confusion,” Kyle said.

The attacker grabbed at a knife on his vest, moving awkwardly and not using the hand that would have been closest. It seemed that his leg wasn’t the only thing that had been injured.

Crucibelle was on the man in a moment, knocking the knife out of his hand and then tearing off his gas mask and goggles. Beneath that, he had light skin, squared jaw, and light brown hair that was cut short.

“Who are you?” Cruicbelle demanded. “Why did you take Absinthe?”

“Fuck you, freak,” the attacker responded, spitting in her face. “I’m not telling you anything. I want my lawyer.”

Kyle just stood back, staring at the man with a strange expression that suddenly turned into a flash of recognition. “Agent Owens,” he spat.

The prisoner’s eyes went wide. “How did you know…?” Then he snapped his mouth shut.

“You know him?” Crucibelle asked.

“He’s with the MCO,” Kyle answered, still glaring at the man. “But last I heard, he was behind bars for murdering some hero.”

Crucibelle’s expression hardened even more. “The MCO?”

“None of them were wearing MCO uniforms or insignia,” Kyle told the hero. “But while we were coming in, I saw an MCO transport about a block away.”

“I doubt that’s a coincidence,” I commented.

“Me too,” Crucibelle responded.

Crucibelle pulled out a cell phone and stepped away. She spent a minute talking to someone, though I could only make out a word or two of the conversation. When she was finished, she came back, not looking any happier.

“I just talked to the local MCO office,” Crucibelle stated. “They said that they aren’t aware of any operations going on at this time.”

Kyle gave a skeptical snort. “And you believe them?”

The hero hesitated for a moment before answering, “This time, yes. If this is the MCO, then it looks like the locals have been left out of the loop.”

I stared down at the envelope that was still sitting in my hand. It was slowly rotating. “She’s still moving,” I said. “If we hurry…”

“Transport vehicle,” Kyle mused.

“If we can find where they’re going,” Crucibelle started.

Kyle shook his head. “That might be too late. They may be heading to a secure location, one with better protection and more friends. We need to get her back before they reach their destination.” Then he chuckled faintly. “Fortunately, hitting moving targets is my specialty.”

Crucibelle stared at Kyle with a suspicious look. “I’ve seen your weapons,” she finally said. “And you seem to know a lot about the Fogmaker.” She let it hang there for a moment before asking, “You’re in the business, aren’t you?”

Kyle hesitated a moment before responding, “I’m no hero, if that is what you’re asking.”

“The other side of the business then,” Crucibelle added grimly.

Instead of responding to that directly, Kyle simply said, “I’m just someone who refuses to look the other way when a kid is kidnapped in front of me.”

For several seconds, Kyle and Crucibelle just stood there, staring at each other. She finally gave a sharp nod. “I can live with that.”

“Good,” Kyle mused, his eyes narrowing with a thoughtful look. “It’s too bad that Collin isn’t here with us now. His power would be ideal for stopping a moving vehicle.”

“I’ll tell him you said that,” I commented. “I think he’s feeling pretty useless right about now.”

“Not useless,” Kyle told me. “His powers are just a bit specialized.” He smiled faintly and quietly mused, “In fact, they’d be ideal for my line of work.”

Just then, I noticed that Crucibelle was taking out her phone and walking off again. “Are you calling in the rest of the Supers?” I asked.

Crucibelle shook her head and stood there with a grim expression. “No,” she responded. “I’m calling in someone a lot scarier than any of my teammates.” She hesitated a moment before adding, “I’m calling Absinthe’s father.”

Seattle Wa, Thursday early evening, Dec 27th 2007
Absinthe

The truck rumbled and shook as it moved and even more when it stopped. That was what woke me up.

I was in the back of an enclosed truck, chained to the back wall closest to the cab. Manacles were on my wrists and ankles, keeping me from moving more than a few inches in any direction. And then, between me and the door on the far end, there were five armed people.

The grey bastards still wore their goggles, almost as if they were worried that I might still try casting some illusions. Smart of them, but not good for me.

I knew that I hadn’t been out for too long. Without any pixies to absorb my glamour, the people around me were getting the full exposure. So far, none of my kidnappers appeared to be hallucinating, which meant that they hadn’t spent much time this close to me.

“I can’t believe we left Owens behind,” one of the men complained. “I thought he was right behind me.”

“I thought he was right behind me,” another added.

The lone woman of the group said, “I saw the girl injure him earlier. It must have been worse than I thought if he couldn’t keep up.”

A moment later, the second one to have spoken, joked, “Fog of war and all.”

There were a few brief snickers at that. “Thankfully, I had some of the Fogmaker’s gas or this would have been an even bigger pain.”

“You should have brought it to the ambush,” the woman pointed out.

None of them seemed to notice that I was awake. I kept my eyes mostly closed, enough so that I could pretend to still be out.

“Losing Owens was unfortunate,” one of the men said. From the parts of his face that were exposed, I saw that he had a few nasty scars. “He’ll either meet us back at the rendezvous, or we’ll go searching for him later. If necessary, we can get him out of another cell.”

Owens. They’d mentioned that name twice. The name sounded familiar, though I couldn’t place it, at least not at first. Then I remembered.

That was the name of the MCO agent who’d chased after Dana, and who’d inadvertently cost Grace Winslow her position as liaison to the Liberty League. But this couldn’t be the same guy. The name had to be a coincidence.

“For now,” the scarred man said, “we focus on getting back to base camp so we can interrogate the target and gather as much intel as possible on our potential future targets.”

“THEN we finish this mission?” one of the others asked.

“Then we officially finish this mission,” the scarred one agreed.

The way they both said ‘finish the mission’ sent chills down my spine. Considering the way that they’d come after me and the weapons they were using, I was pretty sure that I knew what they meant by ‘finish the mission.’

I was scared, even a bit terrified, but I couldn’t show it. I remained motionless, pretending that I was still unconscious and hoping that they didn’t realize otherwise. It wouldn’t be much longer before they all started tripping out, and hopefully, that would give me the opportunity that I needed.

A minute later, the woman suddenly slapped at her shoulder. When the others looked at her, she explained, “A big spider.”

“You’re afraid of a spider?” one of the others asked in surprise.

“It was a BIG spider,” she protested, looking around to see where it had gone. “Like, tarantula big, and it was blue…”

“A blue spider?” the scarred man asked grimly. “Check your goggles. They might be broken.”

The scarred man suddenly slapped me and I let out a gasp, no longer able to pretend that I was still unconscious. Since I couldn’t pretend anymore, I just looked him right in the goggles.

“Enough with the tricks,” the scarred man said.

“I can’t do anything,” I protested, looking at my hands. “I can’t make the gestures I need to cast any of my spells.” That was a lie, but they didn’t need to know that. “And you can see through my illusions anyway.”

“She made me see things earlier,” the woman said in an angry tone. “Even with the protection.”

“Me too,” one of the men added.

A third one cautiously offered, “Unless you’re wearing a pink tutu sir, I’m starting to see things too.”

There were mutterings of agreement from the rest as they all began hallucinating, however, it didn’t give me the opportunity that I’d hoped for. Instead, they all pointed their weapons at me.

“Stop that,” the scarred one ordered.

“I can’t,” I told him, this time being honest. “I’m hallucinogenic. Anyone who spends time around me starts to see things, UNLESS I use magic to actively stop it.”

“This trouble isn’t worth whatever intel we could get from interrogating her,” one of the other argued to the scarred one. “Let’s just finish her now and be done with it.”

“You might be right,” the scarred man responded thoughtfully.

I gulped at that, frantically trying to think of something I could do. My options were pretty limited.

“Go ahead and shoot,” I said, forcing a grin. “You know you want to.”

That made them all freeze, then look back and forth between each other. By this point, the hallucinations had firmly taken root. They were controlling their reactions, but I could still see the way they were turning their heads and apparently staring at things that weren’t there.

“Shit,” one of them grumbled. “I can’t trust a damn thing I see.”

“None of us can,” the woman agreed. “We might shoot each other.”

“Hold your fire,” the scarred man ordered. “For now.” Then he turned to me, or what he apparently thought was me. He was looking off to the side instead. “Stop this at once.”

I smiled and pushed out an audible illusion, one that sounded just like me. My voice seemed to come from the woman. “Sure,” my voice said. “Just untie me so I can cast the spell.”

The scarred man suddenly punched the woman, knocking her back into one of the others. I bit my lips to keep from laughing too loudly.

“What did you do that for?” the woman demanded.

“Ouch,” my voice came, this time from one of the others. “That hurt.”

They all stared at the one who appeared to have spoken, but none said anything. From the way they were jerking around, I suspected that none or them could tell who was who anymore, which was why none of them were opening fire.

I pushed a powerful burst of magic into my hands and three pixies shot out into the air. The goons in grey were tripping so hard, none of them seemed to realize that these might be real.

“Great,” one grumbled as he seemed to glance at the pixies. “Now I’m seeing birds.”

“And trees,” another muttered as he stared at the back of the truck. “So many damn trees…”

While the goons were distracted by all the hallucinations, I had my pixies go to work on my shackles. I wasn’t sure if I could get them loose this way, but this was my best and perhaps only opportunity.

The scarred man, who seemed to be their leader, reached for the gas mask on his belt. “Do you have any more of that knockout gas?”

“No,” one of them answered. “I used up the entire canister.”

The shackle on one of my wrists came loose with a faint click. None my kidnappers seemed to notice. I smiled at that. Soon. If I could keep them distracted for just a little longer.

“Stop the truck,” the scarred man ordered into his radio.

The truck suddenly came to a stop, but not as if someone had just slammed on the breaks. The stop was sudden and jarring, causing everyone to get thrown around. The truck ran into something. Or, something ran into it.

Seconds later, the back door tore open, revealing Crucibelle. She stood there for a moment while the grey goons seemed completely confused as to who or even what was really there, or if they were imagining even that. Then they finally reacted but it was too late.

“A dragon,” one of the goons exclaimed as he turned his gun on Crucibelle. “Of course it’s a dragon…”

The energy blast hit Crucibelle in the chest but only made her stagger back a step. She snatched the weapon from his hands and tossed it behind her, right before grabbing the shooter himself.

One of the others started to turn his weapon on Crucibelle as well, but I sent a pixie flying right into his face as a distraction. He screamed like a little girl and tried to scramble back, making me wonder what it was that he saw. A second pixie flew into the middle of the group and exploded, knocking all of them back long enough for Crucibelle to finish disarming them.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” Crucibelle told me with a smile. “Now, let’s get you out of there.”

Seattle Wa, Thursday early evening, Dec 27th 2007
Roulette

“Stay here,” Crucibelle had told me. “Under no circumstances are you to get involved any more than you already have.”

She’d already made it perfectly clear that the only reason I was allowed to help with Gwen’s rescue, was because I was the one with the tracking spell they needed to find her. Now, I was at the site of the rescue, keeping my distance as I watched everything unfold.

Between my spell and Crucibelle being able to fly above everything for a better look, it hadn’t taken long to find the MCO transport vehicle. It took even less time for Kyle to pull out in front of it with a ‘borrowed’ truck, bringing them to a sudden and complete stop. And as soon as they had stopped, Crucibelle flew down and tore the back door right off the transport.

“Come on,” I urged, desperately hoping that we weren’t too late.

While Crucibelle was dealing with those armed men in the back of the transport, the driver hopped out and drew his weapon, one of those energy rifles that they’d been using. I noticed that this one wasn’t wearing goggles like I’d seen them all wearing before.

Kyle climbed out of the truck that he’d used as a barricade and opened fire, forcing the driver to dive for cover. Then the driver spotted me, in spite of the fact that I’d been keeping my distance. Then again, my purple hair was rather noticeable, and he must have recognized me from the ambush because he began shooting at me.

I dove down behind a parked car for cover, wincing as I did so. Then, I took a deep breath and activated my current ability, the one that I’d almost forgot I now had. Gold metal quickly formed and spread over my body until all of my skin and hair were covered.

“Now I’m even more noticeable,” I muttered.

I stared at my golden metalic hand, absently wondering how I could incorporate this with my other power sets. Then I shook off that thought, knowing that this wasn’t the time to get distracted with that kind of thinking. I could do that later, when I was home and safe.

“But first,” I muttered, “I need to get out of here.” I hesitated a moment before adding, “With Gwen. Alive.”

As I’d already seen earlier, my manifested shell seemed to be strong enough to stop their weapons, but I wasn’t about to test that again. Instead, I stayed where I was, using the car as cover.

For a moment, I considered drawing my needle gun and shooting back, but I quickly discounted that. The attacker was too far away for me to hit, which only made me wish that I had my coil gun with me instead. Or better yet, my even larger and more powerful rail gun.

When I peeked around the corner a moment later, I saw that Kyle had moved positions and was opening fire on the attacker again. The energy blasts from his guns did more than my flechettes did, because the attacker dropped to the ground and began twitching as though he was being tased. Then again, I didn’t know how Kyle’s weapons worked, so maybe he was being tased.

Crucibelle seemed to be finishing up with the back of the transport at the same time. One armored woman came out and staggered around, no longer wearing goggles and looking around at things that weren’t there. Gwen had obviously gotten to that one.

Before long, all of the men in grey were disarmed, degoggled, and laying on the ground while Kyle stood over them. It was at this point that Gwen emerged from the back of the transport and I came out from behind my cover, dropping my shell at the same time.

“Absinthe,” I called out, careful to use her codename since there were numerous people about. “Are you okay?”

“More or less,” Gwen responded as she slowly came over to me.

She paused long enough to stop and glare at the prisoners. Several pixies appeared and moved over to them, hovering in the air as though they were guarding the prisoners along with Kyle.

“You know,” Gwen told me with a sigh. “I am getting a little tired of people coming after me. It’s like, every time I go out in public, something happens.”

“I get what you mean,” I replied, nodding sympathetically.

She gave me a curious look, then asked, “What was up with that gold look? Trying to impersonate an Oscar? If you are, you’ve definitely got the wrong build.”

“New power,” I answered with a chuckle. I held out my hand and let the gold metal shell start to form over it, though only for a few seconds before I stopped it. “Yet another one to learn.”

Gwen chuckled at that. “At least your powers aren’t boring.”

“That is true,” I agreed, though I wished my powers were at least a little less exciting. I could definitely do without the burnout part. Then I remembered something. “Oh yeah… I think you lost this…”

I held out Gwen’s dagger, which I’d found on the ground where she’d been captured.

“Needle,” Gwen said, accepting the dagger with a sigh of relief. She examined it for a moment, nodded in satisfaction, then slipped it into its sheath. “Thanks.”

“You know,” I told Gwen. “After this last week, I’m almost looking forward to getting back to school. It will nice and quiet in comparison.”

She stared at me for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Yeah. And just how messed up is that?”

Seattle Wa, Sunday early evening, Dec 30th 2007
Absinthe

I was in Hell. Technically, I was at Sunday dinner with my parents…and Collin. Dinner with my parents was good. Time with Collin was good. But when you combine them both, it might as well have been Hell.

“So,” Mom asked Collin with a deceptively friendly smile. “How did the two of you meet?”,

Collin squirmed under the attention, not having expected the interrogation disguised as a family dinner. Most people thought that my dad was the scary one, but those were the people who didn’t really know my mom.

Dad sat there with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he pretended not to notice. He was amused by the dinner entertainment, even if he’d never admit to it.

“We met at school, “I answered for Collin, mostly to get Mom’s attention off him. “My old school. Before I manifested.”

Of course, Mom already knew this. I’d already told her that much. What I hadn’t told her was that Collin was the kid who used to bully me. Our relationship was…a little complicated at times.

“When I first met GWEN,” Collin said, emphasizing my current name. “I didn’t I didn’t know who she used to be. I just thought that she was Adam’s sister.”

The conversation continued on for a bit longer, making me squirm a bit uncomfortably the entire time. Dad just remained silent, with that faint hint of a smile, apparently enjoying the fact that someone else was getting the business end of Mom’s interrogation for once. Eventually though, Mom relented in her questioning and dinner turned to easier topics.

Once dinner was over and the table cleared, Collin and I retreated to my room for a little privacy. I was told to keep the door open, which was a strange thing for me.

“Your mom is kind of intimidating,” Collin confessed. “But nice too…”

“You have no idea,” I responded with a sigh, thinking about the times she’d asked about my report cards.

“And to think,” Collin joked. “I was worried that your dad would be polishing a shotgun or something.”

I laughed at that. “Not exactly his style.” I let it sigh at that for a few seconds before adding, “He prefers pistols.”

Then I shook my head and sighed. It was strange having my parents become so overprotective of me now that I’d turned into a girl. Of course, that was actually one of the easier things about adjusting to my new gender, but it was still weird for me.

Then I noticed that Collin was looking a bit distracted. “What’s up?” I asked.

Collin hesitated for a moment, then admitted, “I was just thinking about this last week and everything that happened.”

“It’s been a lot,” I agreed with a frown. “But I guess, that’s why they make us do combat finals and BMA.”

“It does make a lot more sense now,” he told me with a shake of his head. “And so does that team tactics class that we’re all signed up for. I’m pretty nervous about it though.”

“Oh?” I asked.

Collin shrugged. “My powers aren’t exactly the most impressive.”

“Impressive enough,” I told him. “You can stop speedsters and teleporters like that…” I snapped my fingers. “And remember, Kyle told you that you’d also be great for stopping cars too.”

“My powers are kind of specialized,” Collin said. “Probably a bit too specialized. I guess, I need to figure out how to work around that.”

“BMA and team tactics,” I said. “Both should help with that.”

“I’ve also been talking with Aunt Leah,” he told me. “She has a few ideas of how I could become a bit more flexible.” He hesitated. “And a little less useless the next time trouble pops up.”

“You were the one who caught Slippery,” I reminded him. “So, don’t you ever think that you’re useless.”

Collin smiled at that. “Thanks.”

“We’ll be back at school soon enough,” I told him a few seconds later. “So, we can worry about that kind of stuff later. For now, I just want to enjoy being home for a bit.”

“I agree completely,” Collin responded, taking my hand in his. He glanced towards my open door, then let out a frustrated sigh. I giggled at that as we just sat there talking.

Portland Or, Wednesday evening, Jan 2nd 2008
Roulette

I sat on the couch beside Kara while Mom, Beth, and Kyle had their own spots in the living room. Kyle was heading back home tomorrow, so I’d invited everyone over for dinner.

“So, you were back in Seattle again yesterday?” Beth asked her brother, apparently surprised by this.

I was a little surprised as well. Ever since that last attack by the men in grey, I’ve been avoiding Seattle. Two attacks within a few days was more than I needed. I didn’t want to press my luck any further.

“You know,” Kara offered. “I’m just glad that they didn’t want us all to come back for another debriefing.”

That made me chuckle. “I don’t think they wanted to press their luck with another attack.” Then I let out a sigh. “And I never even got that extra lesson with Witchling.”

“You can still e-mail her, right?” Beth asked.

“Yeah,” I responded with a shrug, “but it isn’t the same as in person.”

Beth gave her brother a curious look. “If it wasn’t for a debriefing, why were you back up there?”

Kyle hesitated a moment, then muttered, “Just taking care of some stuff.”

“Stuff?” Beth asked suspiciously.

Kyle hesitated a moment, then grudgingly admitted, “I was meeting up with Crucibelle.”

“Oh?” Beth encouraged him.

“We just talked over some coffee,” Kyle reluctantly added.

Beth and Kara shared a look and a grin. “Do tell,” Beth and Kara both said almost as one.

“It isn’t like that,” Kyle quickly insisted, though his blush suggested otherwise. “We just met and talked about…what had happened. And a few other things.”

“So, are you going to meet her again?” Beth asked with a grin.

There was a moment of hesitation before Kyle let out a sigh. “Probably not. Maybe. I just don’t think anything can happen between us. Our lives are just too different.” He paused at that, then chuckled. “And as an associate of mine would say, we’d have a professional disagreement.”

Beth gave him a blank look. “What kind of professional disagreement would a superhero and a mechanic have?”

“She probably thinks his rates are criminal,” I commented, earning a giggle from Kara.

The truth was, I’d seen and heard enough during those fights to be convinced that Kyle was more than just a mechanic. In fact, I suspected that he probably worked on the other side of the law as Crucibelle and his sister, but I didn’t know for sure and wasn’t about to say anything. After all, he’d risked his life to help save Gwen.

Kyle, eager to change the subject, asked me, “So, you’re heading back to Whateley in a couple days. Do you have anything big planned there?”

“Just some training with my team,” I responded. “We’ve all signed up for this team tactics class. Apparently, we’re all classified as ‘trouble magnets’, so they consider us a high priority for that class.”

“Trouble magnets,” Mom commented wryly. “I wonder where they could have possibly gotten that idea from.”

“No idea,” Kara said with a giggle. “Maybe it has something to do with you finding supervillains every time you step out the door.”

“Maybe,” I agreed wryly. Then I considered my friends and chuckled. “Honestly, I expect that a couple of my friends will have gotten into a bit of trouble too.”

“Trouble magnets,” Beth commented with a smirk. “It sounds appropriate.”

“We’re called Shenanigans,” I said, which earned another giggle from Kara.

“Same thing,” Mom said with an amused look. “And probably an appropriate name.”

I rolled my eyes at that. “You have no idea how hard I work trying to keep the others out of trouble.”

“You always were the responsible one,” Beth told me, giving Mom a meaningful look.

Kara nodded at that, then grinned evilly at her uncle. “So, what else did you and Crucibelle talk about?”

Kyle groaned at that while everyone else smiled and waited for the answer.

Seattle Wa, Friday afternoon, Jan 4th 2008

Miles Wylann stepped into the room where Leah Reynolds, better known as Crucibelle, was waiting for him. She was wearing her uniform, though she was a little more casual than she usually was when on duty.

The two of them had known each other for several years, though their relationship had been completely professional, even a little adversarial until recently. Then, he’d asked her for a favor regarding his son…daughter, and he’d trusted her with information that could have gotten Gwen killed. But Crucibelle had come through for him, and she’d proven that the trust hadn’t been misplaced. That had permanently changed their relationship, and for the better, as far as Miles was concerned.

Crucibelle took one look at Miles, then she grabbed a bottle of bourbon and poured two glasses. This was more symbolic than anything, an acknowledgement that this was not an official meeting. Miles wouldn’t drink if this was official. His professional ethics wouldn’t have allowed it.

She looked…tired. No, not really tired. Crucibelle was an exemplar and she didn’t get tired easily. This looked more like frustration.

“Bad day?” Miles asked, more as small talk than anything else.

“You have no idea,” she answered with a grimace. “I spent half the day searching the Seattle Underground for an escaping villain.”

Miles gave a sympathetic wince at that. The Seattle Underground had started off as the leftover parts from an older incarnation of the city, but over the decades, multiple people…villains, heroes, and miscellaneous organizations, had set up their own lairs and tunnel systems, eventually connecting them all until they became a large and complicated labyrinth beneath the city.

“I hope you caught them then,” Miles offered.

“Eventually,” she responded with a sigh. “But it was easier to catch the Narrator, and he’d convinced a bunch of bystanders to help him escape.”

“To difficult tasks accomplished,” Miles offered, holding up his glass.

“I’ll drink to that,” Crucibelle responded with a chuckle. “To difficult tasks accomplished.”

“You have to take job satisfaction where you can,” Miles mused. “Sometimes, it isn’t easy to find at all.” She stared at him for a moment before nodding agreement.

“You know,” Crucibelle commented as she took a seat. “I had a very pleasant coffee date the other day, and no offense, but I’d much rather go back and repeat that.”

“I understand completely,” Miles said as he took his seat, opposite of Crucibelle. “And no offense taken.”

“So,” she said carefully. “What can you tell me about those…kidnappers.” She spat the last word out.

He nodded, appreciating the fact that she’d not only saved his own daughter, but that she took the kidnapping attempt so personally. It was good to have someone like Crucibelle in his corner. It was good to have an ally…maybe even a friend…within the hero community.

“I can give you the names and identities of each one,” Miles told her. “But you already have that information.”

“I was hoping for a little more than that,” she responded with a scowl, taking a sip from her glass. “Considering that this was an MCO operation.”

“Officially, they are all former employees of the MCO,” Miles explained. “The organization had no knowledge of their activities since departing. They aren’t even being acknowledged as rogue agents.”

“And unofficially?” Crucibelle asked with a bitter note.

“Unofficially,” Miles answered grimly. “They’ve been disavowed. I see the hand of some higher up in this operation, but I can’t tell who. Yet.”

Crucibelle snorted at that and took a sip of her bourbon. “Let me guess… A few bad apples?”

Miles grimaced at that and grudgingly admitted, “There are more than a few bad apples.” He stared down into his drink and let out a sigh. “I’ve spent years trying to get rid of the bad apples, or at the very least, keep the rot from spreading. And to be honest, I’m starting to wonder if it might be easier just to save the good apples then burn the barrel.”

“Now THAT sounds like a difficult task,” Crucibelle said after a pause. “Both, scrapping the bad apples and saving the good ones.”

“I knew that when I took it upon myself,” Miles told her. “But some tasks are worth accomplishing, no matter how difficult.”

Crucibelle stared at him for several more seconds before holding out her glass. “To difficult tasks accomplished.”

“To difficult tasks accomplished,” Miles agreed to the toast. He had a feeling that this would become a normal toast for the two of them.

 

The End