Snek is a Good Boy [a Worm Crackfic]

[Ack]

[A/N: This is a one-shot fic (for now) that answers an idle question I asked myself yesterday: "What if a snake was the hero of a Worm fanfic?"
Snek is the familiar of a powerful wizard. He's about as smart as a young child, and can create personal portals to go wherever he wants. He's also a sixty-foot boa constrictor.
This story was not beta-read.]

Snek is a Good Boy

Snek is bored.

Snek has been a very good boy all day, helping Master with Master things. Master is busy now, with no time to talk to Snek. Snek was tired and slept on his winding-post, but now he is awake and Master is still busy.

Snek is bored.

Snek knows Master does not like when Snek disturbs him in his Master work, so Snek does not make wriggly-hole to go into Master's work room. Snek goes to door instead and taps three times with nose before opening door.

Snek knows 'three'. Master has taught Snek how to count all the way up to ten! Snek is very proud that he can count. He can count higher than anyone in Master's tower except Master himself. Master knows numbers Snek will never understand.

Master does not look around at first, so Snek waits. Even though he is bored, Snek is very good at waiting. Master has said that he likes that in Snek.

Master finishes what he is doing and looks around. "Yes, Snek, what is it?" He always remembers what Snek's name is. Master is very smart.

"Ssnek iss bored, Masster," says Snek. He tries not to hiss words when he speaks to Master, but Snek is Snek, and is hard not to hiss. "May Ssnek go and play?"

Master nods. "Yes, go and play," he says. "Be back by morning."

"Thank you, Masster. Ssnek will be back by morning."

Master does not answer because he is doing Master work again. Snek wriggles out of work room and closes door with tail. Then Snek opens wriggly-hole to another world. He does not care which one, because he is bored.

Snek has opened wriggly-holes into other worlds before. Once he found place with lizards that tried to eat Snek. Snek ate them instead. That was fun. And they were delicious. (Master taught Snek that word.)

Snek wriggles through wriggly-hole into new world. This place looks like city, but not city Snek has been to. This city smells of people and garbage and things Snek does not know.

Snek likes new places. Snek wriggles through city, looking for fun things to do. Then Snek hears man shouting. Man is very loud and shouty. Snek wriggles closer to hear man. Man is talking to big crowd. Snek smells oil from bang-ouch things. Snek does not like bang-ouch things. They are loud and make Snek sting.

Shouty man is hard to understand, but Snek thinks he is talking about hurting children. Master has always told Snek it is bad to hurt children. Snek does not like it when shouty man talks about hurting children.

Snek wriggles closer and lifts up head higher than shouty man. "Iss bad to hurt child," he says. People are rude. They start shouting. They point at Snek and shout his name but getting wrong. People always get Snek's name wrong.

Shouty man stares at Snek. He shouts and points. He tells people to kill Snek. Snek knows he is bad man because he wanted to hurt children and now he wants to hurt Snek. Master has said it is good for Snek to hurt bad men.

Strange thing happens. Buzzy bugs start biting people. Lots of buzzy bugs everywhere. Snek not know where buzzy bugs come from, but they are not trying to bite Snek.

People have bang-ouch things. They point at Snek. Bang goes bang, ouch goes ouch. They sting when hit. Snek does not like sting. Master has said Snek scales are hard as iron, but still sting.

Snek open mouth wide and hiss loud, scare people. People move away. Some run away. Snek hiss more, taste air. Snek smell pee-pee and poo-poo. More buzzy-bugs happen. People run away. Shouty man not run away. Shouty man look up then look at Snek.

Buzzy-bugs biting shouty man. Shouty man is now on fire. Fire is bad. Fire hurty hurt. Shouty man not hurty hurt. Shouty man has metal scales. Metal scales stop hurty hurt? Shouty fire metal man breathe fire at Snek. Snek tastes spot on snoot where fire hit. Spot warm, no burn.

Shouty fire metal man throw fire up at building. Snek not know why. Snek taste air. Taste person on building. Young person. Young person is child. Shouty fire metal man throwing fire at child.

Snek has told shouty fire metal man hurting child is bad. Snek wriggles forward. Shouty fire metal man jump up on wall. Snek strike, grab shouty fire metal man leg in mouth. Leg is hot, on fire. Metal tastes funny to tongue.

Snek like spicy food.

Snek pull shouty fire metal man down to ground. Shouty fire metal man tries to make Snek on fire. Snek wraps shouty fire metal man in body. Shouty fire metal man has claws. Tries to claw Snek. Snek squeezes shouty fire metal man, feels bones break.

Shouty fire metal man isn't shouty anymore.

<><>​

Taylor stared over the parapet of the building at where Lung was fighting—and losing—against the biggest snake she'd ever seen in her life, even on Discovery Channel. It honestly looked like one of those prehistoric snakes in the reconstructions, the type that faced off against dinosaurs and won.

But it had spoken. It had actually uttered words.

And now it was squeezing Lung to death, slowly but surely. After Lung threw fire at her, then tried to come after her. She didn't know how to feel about that. Saving her life, sure. But killing Lung? Did he actually deserve that?

He wasn't coming up here to surrender to me, a tiny treacherous voice whispered in the back of her mind.

Also, she was absolutely certain that no amount of hornets—even if her swarm had survived Lung's flames, which most of it hadn't—was going to make a dent in that enormous creature's capabilities.

When it started swallowing Lung's body, head first, she pulled off her mask and threw up.

<><>​

Snek a little disappointed that shouty fire metal man not on fire anymore. Eats bad man anyway. Master has taught him to clean up messes. Is a little spicy going down. Took long time to squeeze small enough to eat, kept unsqueezing. Snek not mind. Snek very strong.

When finished, Snek tastes air. Child on roof of building, smell scared. Others, long way away. Snek smell dog, but funny. Snek like dog. Taste good.

Snek has done good deed for day. Has had fun. Meal was spicy. Snek might come back, see if other bad men need eating. Snek open wriggle-hole, go home.

<><>​

Disbelievingly, Taylor watched as the enormous snake poked its head into the hole that had just appeared in the stained, cracked asphalt and vanished down it. As the tip of the immense tail flicked out of view, the hole closed again, seconds before a motorcycle swung around the corner.

Not just any motorcycle. Taylor would have had to be blind, deaf and living in South America not to recognise that bike. Armsmaster was the head of the Protectorate in Brockton Bay, and his bike lived up to the hype.

As he rolled to a halt, Taylor hastily wiped her mouth and pulled her mask back on. He wasn't her idol, exactly (she'd really wanted to be Alexandria when she was younger) but he was still a hero. More to the point, she was out in costume. Being seen unmasked by anyone was a bad idea.

The next thing she knew, something clamped onto the building parapet and Armsmaster swung up and over to the rooftop. He stood there for a moment, apparently observing her as she sat with her back to the brickwork, huddled in on herself. She was certain that he could also see the puddle of vomit nearby.

There was silence for a moment. She got the impression that he had a speech he probably trotted out at times like this, but he'd been put off his stride. Finally, he cleared his throat.

"What exactly happened here?" he asked. "And are we going to fight?"

"I don't want to fight," she said hastily. "Lung … Lung was down there." She pointed at the street below with her thumb.

"I saw his mask," Armsmaster said curtly. "It's not like him to leave without retrieving it."

Taylor hadn't even seen his mask fall off. "No … he … I think he's dead."

That got his attention. "Unlikely. Lung is … very durable. Though what makes you think that?"

She started speaking slowly, explaining how she'd happened on the gathering and was about to break it up with bugs, and then the snake happened. Her words were inadequate, even to her own ears, as she tried to describe the sheer terrifying power of it. Slowly, the last few words stumbled from her mouth, and she hunched down again.

"So … a giant talking snake that squeezed Lung to death and then ate him." She had to give Armsmaster props for not laughing out loud as he summarized her account. If she hadn't seen it for herself, she wouldn't have believed it.

"That's about it, yes."

"And you have no idea where it came from." He looked at her sharply. "Do you think you summoned it with your power?"

Wearily, she shook her head. "My power is calling bugs to me, and controlling them. I didn't call it, and I didn't control it. I didn't even know it was there until it reared up and told them not to hurt kids."

"I see." Armsmaster paused. "And you say it vanished into a hole in the ground that disappeared afterward."

"Yeah." Carefully, she stood up, supporting herself against the parapet. She pointed down at the street. "Just about there."

He nodded. "Thank you." The blue and silver helmet tilted. "Are you alright?"

She shuddered. "Oh, I'm okay. Lung's fireball was only a near miss. And the snake stopped him from getting up here to me. But I'm never going to see a nature show the same way again."

"Understood." She wasn't sure if he did; it sounded like just something he said to move things along. "I don't believe I got your codename."

"I … I don't have one." She shrugged. "It's hard enough to come up with a bug-related name that doesn't sound creepy or villainous, or just plain stupid."

"That could be a problem, yes." He chuckled warmly. "I got in early enough that all the good names weren't gone yet." There was an infinitesimal pause, as if he were checking off items on a list. "So, have you considered joining the Wards? As you can see, Brockton Bay can be very dangerous for an independent hero."

She took a deep breath, suddenly aware of the sour taste in her mouth all over again. "Right now, I'm reconsidering the whole hero game, Wards or no Wards. That snake was big enough to ride on. If it had chosen me instead of Lung to snack on, there's no way I would've survived. I think I'm going to do some serious thinking about matters."

"Understandable." He produced a card out of … somewhere. "If you change your mind, call this number."

"Okay." She took the card and awkwardly held it as he descended to street level again. Turning, she trudged toward the fire escape ladder. It was going to be a long walk home. A lot of time to think.

I need to talk to Dad about this, she decided. He might have ideas.

<><>​

Snek wriggle out of wriggle-hole into Master home. Master is there.

"Did you have fun, Snek?"

"Yess, Masster. Ate bad man. Ssaved child."

"That's a good boy, Snek."

Snek is happy. Snek has been a good boy.

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Two: Snek to the Rescue!

[A/N: This chapter was inspired by a comment from Lumias, on FF (dot) net, and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

"A snake."

Director Piggot's delivery of the two words was flat and toneless, which meant she was either thoroughly pissed off or had no idea what to make of the revelation. Or both. Personally, Colin was betting on the latter.

"Yes, ma'am." He took a deep breath. "My experimental lie detector did not register any untruths in what she told me. Also, one of the ABB was recording the event on their phone—almost certainly against orders—and there's a three-second clip of the snake rearing up and speaking. Then the phone gets dropped, there's a lot of gunfire, and the person runs away. I located the phone after the event. The camera was pointed at the sky for most of the action, but the audio appears to bear out her story in all relevant details."

She seemed to take that in. Were he in her place, he imagined he might be celebrating, just a little, deep inside. Not that he'd wanted Lung to be eaten by a giant snake, but the man had been a multiple murderer, and he'd already been sentenced in absentia to the Birdcage, so his death was no great loss to the city. However, her visage never cracked even the slightest hint of a smile.

"So there's not only a gigantic man-eating snake somewhere in my city," she said quietly. "But it's smart enough to be able to speak, and it can teleport." Sighing in frustration, she pinched the bridge of her nose. "What are the options, here? BioTinker creation? Case Fifty-Three?"

"Those are two potential answers, yes." He nodded seriously. "Alternately, it may be a projection, an illusion—though the fact that it ate Lung suggests otherwise—or a Changer." He paused for a moment, wondering if he should keep going. In for a penny, he decided. "Or one last option, least likely but most worrying."

The Director gestured wordlessly. Get on with it. In her place, he wouldn't have wanted to hear what he considered 'most worrying', but it was her job to have all the facts to work with before she made any decisions. Accordingly, it was his job to give her all the facts at his command.

"It's intelligent enough to be verbal, and to have some sort of moral code," he said slowly, working his way through the premise. "Suppose the portals it travels by can extend to other Earths. It's not from Aleph, of course; we would've heard about them by now. But what if it's native to another Earth, where English is somehow the local language?" It was implausible, he knew, but not impossible.

"And it just came here to visit?" From the tone of her voice, she didn't like that at all. "So it could come back. Or worse, it could come back and bring friends. Especially when it tells them what the lunch menu is like."

Again, he couldn't blame her. Of all the hypothetical scenarios he'd ever had of the world ending, an invasion of giant smart teleporting carnivorous snakes had never been at the top of the list, or even close to it.

"Perhaps not," he reminded her. "The cape I spoke to was very definite about how it told Lung that he shouldn't hurt children. It could've come after her easily—she was certain it knew she was there—but it didn't."

"That's the only faint ray of light in all this." Piggot shook her head. "On the upside, as you so kindly pointed out, it apparently has something approximating a sense of morality, though it chooses to express this by eating the guilty, which doesn't reduce my problems in the slightest. What are its guidelines for determining who is innocent and who is lunch? And even if it never comes back, it's left a mess on our plate just by doing what it's already done. Unless Lung left an established chain of command, Bakuda and Oni Lee may well have a turf war to see who inherits the ABB. And even if they don't, I can see the Empire Eighty-Eight expanding their territory once it becomes clear that Lung is gone for good."

Colin nodded. "Understood, ma'am. I'll keep an eye on them."

"You do that." She waved a hand in vague dismissal.

Turning, he left her office, closing the door carefully behind him. He had a lot to think about, and to plan for. The death of Lung, as he was fully aware, spelled out lots of work in the future for him. But he was fine with that.

He'd long wanted to match himself against Lung one-on-one, partly to put the Asian crime lord into the Birdcage where he belonged and partly (if he was being honest with himself) for the recognition value. Soloing Lung would've put him on the map.

In the absence of the man himself, Colin decided that he would focus on the other two ABB capes—Oni Lee and the newcomer Bakuda—and deliver a message in no uncertain terms. One: they were not Lung. Two: Any attempt to match their ex-boss's activities would bring swift and certain retribution. They were a lot easier to Birdcage than he'd been, after all. And if they wanted to argue about it, he was perfectly willing to hand out a beatdown or three to make his point absolutely clear.

As he pressed the button for the elevator, he nodded to himself. It sounded like a plan.

And if the snake came back, he'd just have to deal with that as well. Or recruit it. One of the two.

It would be worth it just to see the look of horror on the face of the Image rep.

<><>​

Snek bumps his snoot against Master's work room door. One, two, three bumps. Snek is careful not to knock down door. Then Snek puts out his tongue. Master has given Snek tongue that can hold things. It is how Snek helps Master. Also, that Snek can swallow anything dangerous. Snek likes spicy food.

Snek uses tongue to turn handle, open door. Master is working at Master thing. Is big thing. Sometimes Snek lifts Master on head to reach high-up thing. Snek likes helping Master. Master is good to Snek. Snek is a good boy.

Snek wriggles into work room and waits. Snek is not hungry. Last meal Snek ate lasted very long time.

Master turns and looks at Snek. "Yes, Snek?" he asks.

"Ssnek iss here to help Masster," Snek says. "Ssnek has sslept, and iss not hungry."

Master looks at Snek, then at Master thing he is working on. "I don't need your assistance right at the moment, Snek," he says. "But thank you for checking with me. If you want to go and amuse yourself for a few hours, that will be fine." He reaches out and pets Snek on the snoot. "You're a good boy, Snek."

Snek is very happy. "Thank you, Masster." Snek likes being petted on the snoot and called a good boy. "Ssnek will go and play now."

Snek turns and wriggles from Master's big room. Snek's tail is very strong, so is careful to close door and not break it.

Snek's winding-post is big and strong and has many resting spots, so Snek goes and plays on it for little while. It is fun, but chasing tail gets boring after awhile. Snek thinks about shouty fire metal man, and wonders if there are other bad men in that world. Master has said Snek can have fun, and chasing bad men is fun. Snek opens wriggle-hole and goes to that world.

<><>​

Mouse Protector

This isn't fun anymore. I want to go home.

Diane wiped her glove over her forehead, swiping away sweat. She'd discarded the mouse-themed helmet some time ago, tossing it into an empty alleyway after marking it with a teleport tag just in case. They already knew who she was—how, she still wasn't sure—and it wasn't likely to protect against them for more than a second or so. Even Jack Slash was good enough to aim his cuts between the gaps in her armour; he'd already proven that.

She leaned against the wall and pulled the canteen off her belt. Unscrewing the cap carefully so that she didn't make any noise, she swallowed the last of the water in it, then marked it with a tag as well and carefully placed it on the ground at her feet.

Doing so pulled at some of her bandages, and she was sure she could feel fresh blood seeping through them. Goddamn it. They'd been harrying her for the best part of a day, just wearing her down and herding her in circles. Each time she thought she could break out, one of them was waiting for her. Going on the offensive didn't work either; somehow they knew ahead of time, and had enough reinforcements waiting so that she had to cut and run. Or just run, without cutting.

Fighting normal villains was fun. Fighting the Nine, especially when it seemed they specifically had it out for her, wasn't.

She'd already learned to stay off the rooftops. Shatterbird was positively vicious with her little shards, and Diane knew she could do a lot worse. That was probably what hurt more than anything else; they weren't being particularly stretched by fighting her. She wasn't a challenge for them, so they were just taking their time with her. Like cats with a wounded—

She shut that thought process down hard.

No. I'm not going to give them the satisfaction. I'm going to take at least one of these bastards down with me.

They didn't have eyes on her right at that moment, and she still had a few tricks up her sleeve. Easing down to the mouth of the alleyway, she peered around the corner … and there stood Hatchet Face on the sidewalk. Smirking. Bouncing that damn great axe on his hand like he couldn't wait to use it on her.

"Hi." He grinned with his snaggled teeth, and she really wished he hadn't. "Run, little mousey, run."

Just for a second, she considered going for his eye with her sword. It was sharp, made of good steel, and might just penetrate to his brain. But she'd be well inside his range then, and if she didn't get him, he would most certainly get her. The man was far faster than someone his size should be. No, she wanted to save her death-or-glory attack for Bonesaw. That murderous little munchkin had a death toll out of all proportion to her time in the Nine.

She reversed direction around the corner, ready to turn and bolt down the alley, but something nudged her in the back.

Shit. Fuck. Bollocks. I let them sneak up on me.

Turning her head fractionally, she looked to see which member of the Nine was about to sign her death warrant. And damn near wet herself, right then.

Looking back at her, via eyes that managed to look bright and interested, was a snake the length of one of those articulated city buses, which had somehow managed to insert itself into the alleyway behind her while she wasn't looking. Its head alone was damn near the size of a subcompact car.

Its tongue flickered out and back. She had just enough time to register that the appendage seemed oddly configured, rather than the simple fork that most snakes used, before it spoke. "Hello," it said with a hissing undertone. "Bad man? Ssnek help?"

What the fuck. Why not. "Yes," she said. "Bad man. Snek help. Please?"

She had absolutely no fucking idea what was going on, but she knew the Nine did not have a giant talking snake on their roster. This was the Hail Mary pass to end all Hail Mary passes. Either it helped her, or it ate her. Forget rock and hard place; she was a tired, wounded mousey besieged by a whole pack of rabid, hungry cats. Any snake in a storm.

"Ssnek help," the snake confirmed, and flowed past her around the corner, like liquid. If something that came nearly up to her waist and was covered with gleaming scales could be said to 'flow'.

"Hey, who you talking to—" Hatchet Face broke off what he was saying. "Holy motherfucking—!"

There was a loud hiss, like a steam boiler letting off pressure, then a clang. Diane had no idea what that was about, but she knew what the next noise was. A deep-throated scream of agony, wrenched from the throat of the multiple murderer known as Hatchet Face. More of the endless length of the snake slithered past her—wonderingly, she put out her hand and let her fingers trail over the smooth scales as it passed her by—and she heard the crack of bones breaking, one after the other.

Carefully, she peeked around the corner. The axe lay discarded on the sidewalk, and Hatchet Face was basically engulfed in coil after coil of the snake's body. As she watched, it shifted, and the sounds of more bones breaking came to her ears.

The snake's head turned to face her. "Bad man sstopped. More bad men?"

Dazedly, she nodded. "Uh, yeah. Bad men, bad women, even a bad child."

The massive head tilted sideways questioningly. "Ssnek not hurt child. Bad to hurt child."

"This kid's hurt and killed hundreds or even thousands of people," Diane said wearily. "She's killed kids by the dozen. By the hundred. Killed them and done even worse." She'd seen the little spider-bots, and knew how they were made.

"Then Ssnek sstop her," the snake said definitively. It uncoiled from the twisted, mangled and very dead body of Hatchet Face. She wasn't even surprised when it began to engulf its prey, unhinging its jaw and swallowing down Hatchet Face's bulk in an amazingly short time.

Well, he wanted to kill me. I can't say I'm unhappy that he's dead.

The snake turned back to her. "Ssnek iss Ssnek." It looked at her almost expectantly.

Seriously? That's actually its name? Then again, she wasn't exactly in a position to point and laugh. "Uh, Mouse Protector. Diane."

"Mouss," it said. "Iss good name."

"Thanks." She took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of her injured ribs and the rest of her multitude of aches and pains. "Listen, you seem like a nice … uh, snake, but if you've got a way out of here, some mousehole we can scamper away through, that would probably be best. Because the rest of these guys won't be pleased—"

"On the contrary, my dear Mouse Protector, I'm positively thrilled."

The voice had come from above. Carefully, Diane turned and looked, as did Snek. There, on the rooftop opposite, stood Jack Slash next to the Siberian, who had Bonesaw on her shoulders and her hand on his arm. Their skin and clothing showed the monochrome tinge that people under the Siberian's protection normally exhibited. Shatterbird hovered farther up above them; while she hadn't seen Mannequin and Burnscar, they were probably close by as well. She was just as happy to not see Crawler right then; as big as Snek was, he would almost certainly have problems with the misshapen cape.

"And why are you thrilled, Jack-Jack?" The mocking tone was second nature to her. "We just wrecked Hatchet Face."

"Oh, I'm aware." She got the impression that he was less happy than he was putting across with his façade. "So who is your fascinating friend? I'm not aware of any capes getting about as giant snakes."

"Cannot ssmell sstripy one," Snek said quietly. "No ssmell, no heartbeat, no breath, no warmth. Not alive. Dangerouss?"

"Very dangerous," Diane confirmed, speaking softly. "She can tear you apart with her bare hands, she can't be hurt, and she can protect anyone she's touching. That's Jack Slash with her. A very bad man." She raised her voice. "This is Snek. Snek doesn't like bad men." Oh, god. Now I'm talking the same way.

Jack slash laughed out loud. "Oh, he doesn't, does he? Well, this is interesting. We get paid by Ravager to hunt you down, and we get your pet snake as well. Crawler will be happy; he hasn't had a proper challenge in some time." A blade gleamed in his hand; Diane tensed, but he seemed to be merely twirling it absently rather than directing it with malice aforethought.

One huge eye swivelled toward Diane. "Ssnek eat?" asked the snake hopefully.

Diane released the breath she hadn't realised she was holding since the mention of Ravager—that humourless unimaginable bottom-feeder hired the Nine to kill me? If I get out of this, I am so gonna wedgie her so hard the next time we meet, her kids will spontaneously lose the ability to procreate—and nodded. If they were going to go down, she figured they may as well go down fighting. "Snek eat."

Rapidly she formulated a plan, which basically involved marking her sword, throwing it at Slash himself, then teleporting to where it was. Surprise counted for a lot in a situation like that. But before she could begin to carry it through, Snek pulled off its own plan.

Pulling back its head slightly, Snek tasted the air just as a dull-black circular portal appeared before its nose. The enormous head blurred as it struck through the portal; Diane spun around at a flicker of movement and saw Snek's head emerging from what looked like empty air behind Jack Slash. Rolling its head to one side, Snek opened its jaws wide and clamped them around Jack Slash's waist, then immediately pulled him back through the hole. In the instant after the Siberian's hand lost contact with his arm, Snek bit down hard. A remarkably familiar sound of bones (and possibly organs) popping and crackling resulted, as well as a pained scream from the leader of the Nine.

Almost without thinking, Diane drew her sword and stabbed Jack Slash through the eye. He wasn't Bonesaw, but he was definitely a viable target. The blade hung up for a second, then she leaned on it, and it went all the way in. Jack Slash convulsed in a way that indicated he wasn't getting up again … ever.

And then, while the Siberian was still staring at the hand which had been resting on Jack Slash's arm, the giant snake struck again. This time, it arched its back and lunged downward into a new portal that formed on the concrete beneath it. Wide-eyed, Diane watched as Snek's head appeared from above Bonesaw, jaws wide. Its mouth closed around the girl's upper body then yoinked upward again through the portal, bringing Bonesaw's body (legs still kicking) with it. With a wriggling motion, Snek swallowed. Bonesaw vanished down the snake's capacious gullet like an errant chicken nugget.

That was when the Siberian's expression turned from annoyance to incandescent rage. She looked across the narrow street at where Diane stood next to Snek, and leaped. Before Diane could even think about teleporting to one of her various marks, she found herself grabbed by that same mouth—though much more gently—and plunged through what she could only imagine was another one of those portals.

Snek could really travel, Diane later decided. At some point in the mad dash, she found herself seated comfortably just behind the huge snake's head, riding astride like she'd been doing it all her life. From one portal to another, they jumped from world to world, never looking back in case the Siberian was still chasing them.

The first world they hit was a nightmarish version of World War One trench warfare in a sea of mud, with artillery going off and shells bursting around them as Snek powered across the landscape at speeds that maybe only aircraft could match. Diane just had time to get a blurred impression of rumbling tanks four and five storeys tall facing off against brass and steel mecha before they dived into another portal.

One after another, the worlds flickered by. A cityscape of impossibly tall buildings, with ponderous airships drifting between. An ethereally beautiful unspoilt landscape with a castle in the distance and a huge ringed planet in the sky. Primeval forests, with feathered dinosaurs turning to look at them as they blazed past. What she would've sworn was New York Times Square, but with saurians populating the sidewalks, complete with stubby tails.

And then Snek slowed to a halt, in the back streets of what looked like an ordinary city; the street signs were in English, even. "Ssnek bring Mouss home."

"This is home?" Diane looked around. It looked about right. Felt about right, too, though she suspected it was a little farther north than she had been when the Nine was hunting her.

"Yess. Ssame ccity as sshouty fire metal man. Did Ssnek do good?"

She climbed off the snake's back and gave its head a hug, then kissed it on top of its snout for good measure. "Yes, Snek. You did real good. You saved this mousey's tail. Thank you." She wondered who the 'shouty fire metal man' was, and what had happened to him.

"Ssnek happy. Ssnek see Mouss again?"

Diane nodded, and scratched the top of its nose. It seemed to like that. "Sure, Snek can see Mouse again. Just one thing. You said you didn't hurt children, but you just swallowed Bonesaw like a party treat."

Snek nodded. "Yess. Bad child alive. Take to Masster. Masster fix. Masster fix anything."

She blinked. "Oh. Okay. Just a word of warning? She does diseases really, really good."

"Ssnek tell Masster. Bye-bye, Mouss."

"Bye, Snek." She waved, and watched as the enormous reptile slithered down the street a ways, then opened a portal and vanished down it almost quicker than the eye could see.

Well, that was a thing. She stretched, then pulled out a scarf from a belt pouch and tied it around her face as a makeshift mask. Might as well get in touch with the local PRT and ask for a bed for the night. I wonder what they'll say when I tell them that a giant snake saved me from the Slaughterhouse Nine?

Yeah, like they'll believe that.

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Three: Food Run


Director Emily Piggot
Parahuman Response Teams

"When I looked around, I found out I was in Brockton Bay, so I decided to come here and let you guys know about the Nine." Mouse Protector, wearing what looked like a temporary cloth mask, perched on the edge of the conference room table, ignoring the chair that had been placed for her. "Oh, and about Snek."

"'Snek'." Emily got in just before Assault's disbelieving snort. "Is that what you called it?"

"Oh, no." The flamboyant hero waved her hand dismissively. "That's what he called himself. It fits, too. He's the snekkiest snek that ever snekked."

Armsmaster, who had been about to speak, acquired an expression of pain under the visor of his helmet. This gave Assault the chance to interject. "So you're saying that this giant danger noodle, that saved you from the Slaughterhouse Nine and can crawl between dimensions and eat people alive, calls itself Snek?"

"That's what I'm saying, Red." Mouse Protector rolled her eyes. "Though I wouldn't so much call him a danger noodle. More like a nope rope. A really big nope rope. I mean, most of him was about waist-high to me. Also, pretty sure that whoever he gave his loving cuddles to, if you know what I mean, wasn't alive by the time he started nomming them down."

Battery looked a little green at that, and Emily cleared her throat to bring the meeting back on track. "Does this look like the creature you encountered?" There was no force on Earth that would compel her to use the name 'Snek' in relation to it. Clicking a control, she brought up the imagery Armsmaster had salvaged from the ABB member's phone, on the screen that filled the far wall.

Mouse Protector spun in place and crossed her legs, ignoring the fact that her boots were now resting on the table. Emily gritted her teeth, choosing not to fight that battle right now. If the irritating woman figured out just how much this got under Emily's skin, she would do it twice as much.

"Oh, hey, yeah." Mouse Protector's face lit up as she watched the giant snake's head rearing over the crowd, then listened to it speaking. "That's my Snekky-poo, alright. Isn't he just too adorbs for words?"

"More like adorrifying," Assault corrected her. "It's eaten three extremely dangerous capes that we know of. And they're probably not its only victims."

"Both of whom were villains and murderers, one of which had a kill order, and the other one was a huge dick," Mouse Protector retorted. "Snekky just wants to help people. And he only ate Hatchet Face, not Jack Slash."

"I think Assault was referring to Bonesaw," Battery said. "And from what you say, Slash is dead anyway. You said you stuck your sword in his eye?"

"All the way through to the thinky-bits," Mouse Protector agreed happily. "Oh, and Snek didn't eat Bonesaw. He was just keeping her to give to someone he called Master." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Unless the name really was Masster, with two s's. It's hard to tell with Snek. He hisses everything. But I love the big goof anyway."

"Wait, Master?" Emily felt a flare of worry. "This creature is controlled by a Master? That could be problematic. Very problematic. What did it say they were going to do with Bonesaw?"

Mouse Protector rolled her eyes. "I didn't exactly have a long conversation with him. We were too busy doing the five-minute tour of every alternate world I could think of. But I'm pretty sure he said Masster—" she drew the hissing sound out, "—could 'fix' her, whatever that meant. Sounds to me like he was acting of his own free will."

"Unless 'fix' was code for 'bring her under its Master's power'." Armsmaster's voice was hard and flat. "And if this Master could summon or create something so powerful as this creature—"

"Snek." Mouse Protector raised her eyebrows under her mask. "Wow, it's almost like you have trouble remembering his name."

"As I was saying," snapped Armsmaster harshly. "What could they do with Bonesaw under their power? What does it mean for Earth Bet?"

"Snek Two: Electric Snekaloo?" suggested Assault flippantly.

"Aww, man," complained Mouse Protector. "You beat me to it." She turned back to Emily. "Snek's just a big cuddle-bunny, really. Sure, he likes snacking—heh, snekking—down on supervillains, but that's a feature, not a bug. He was really nice to me. Saved me from the Nine, and helped me kill Jack Slash, so that's a huge point in his favour. Just saying."

Emily considered the type of person who would call a sixty-foot anaconda 'a big cuddle-bunny'. For her part, she would be calling in an airstrike on the location, but that was just her. "Be that as it may. If you have any further encounters with the creature while you're in Brockton Bay, I want a report about it on my desk as soon as possible."

"Sure, okay." Mouse Protector grinned. "If you want, I can bring him in to meet you. He's real friendly. I'm sure you two would get along like a house on fire."

"Screaming, mass panic, extensive property damage …" murmured Assault.

Emily ignored the interjection. "That … won't be necessary. But any indication of this thing's intentions and whether it's going to make a regular showing here would be … good to have." Especially if it never intends to come back ever again, she didn't say, but everyone seemed to understand anyway.

Mouse Protector rolled off the table and landed on her feet, then came to attention and ripped off a perfect—and entirely unneeded—salute. "You got it, ma'am!" she declared. "Mouse Protector is on the job!" Then she vanished.

Sighing, Emily massaged her forehead with thumb and forefinger. That's what I'm afraid of. "Everyone else," she said quietly, but the words alone were enough to get the attention of the rest of the room.

"Ma'am?" That was Armsmaster.

"If any of you encounter this … thing … while out and about in Brockton Bay, do not antagonise it. Call in backup, discreetly, but only engage it if innocents appear to be at risk. If it speaks with you, attempt to get the same information as I charged Mouse Protector to gather, and record the entire interaction."

"And if it has Bonesaw with it?" That was Assault, sounding somewhat more serious than usual.

That's the sixty-four million dollar question, isn't it. Emily absolutely hated having to make calls like this out of the blue. "If Bonesaw is with it, assume that innocents are in danger, and neutralise Bonesaw as precisely as possible. Only attack the creature directly if it defends Bonesaw or goes on the attack itself."

"That could go badly wrong, very quickly," Battery noted. "Especially if its 'Master' has actually 'fixed' Bonesaw, whatever that means. It's clearly quite effective. Antagonising an unknown player—the snake or its owner—without knowing their full capabilities or motives …" She shook her head. "It sounds risky to me."

Emily slapped her hand on the tabletop with a crack. "Of course it's risky! Waking up in the morning in this damn city is risky! If you can point out to me a risk free course of action, I'd love to hear it. Until then, that's the way we're playing it." She waited as the silence stretched out. When it reached twenty seconds by her count, she nodded. "That's what I thought."

"Would you like me to start researching counters for this thing and its Mover capabilities?" asked Armsmaster.

"Only when it doesn't interfere with your regular duties. Of course, if it reveals itself to be hostile, that research will become part of your regular duties." She stood up. "You have your orders. Good day to you."

<><>​

Snek is a little bit bored, a little bit hungry. Snek is happy that there are many bad men in that world where Mouse lives. Bad man with axe not as spicy as shouty fire metal man, but still tasty. Mouse was nice. Snek happy that he saved her.

Snek knocks on Master's door with snoot. Three knocks, like Master taught him. Snek is proud that he remembers. Then he uses grasping-tongue to open door. Door opens and Snek wriggles in. It is more polite to use door than wriggle-hole, and Snek wants to be polite to Master. Master is good to Snek.

Master is speaking with little girl Snek brought to Master to fix. Before Master fix, little girl call herself Bonesaw. After Master fix, she call herself Riley. Snek likes sound of name. Riley does not have any hissy noises in it, so Snek can say properly.

"Hello, Snek," says Master. "Did you want something?"

"Ssnek wantss to know if Masster needss him for anything," Snek says. "Wass going to go play."

Master turns and looks at work room. Is big, with many strange things Snek does not understand. Sometimes Snek helps by getting things, or lifting Master to high spot. Snek likes helping Master do this. Master is good to Snek.

"I don't need your assistance right now, Snek, but I will later on," Master says. "So go and play, but be back in two hours."

"Excuse me," says Riley. She points at Snek. "Can I ask him something?"

"Certainly," says Master. "Don't say anything that might confuse him, though."

"I'll try not to." Riley turns to Snek. "Are you going back to Earth Bet?"

"Ssnek not know Earth Bet," Snek says. "Iss it world where Ssnek found Riley?"

Riley nods. "That's the one. Um, do you know what fast food is? I've got a craving for a burger and fries like you wouldn't believe."

Snek know what 'fast' means, and what 'food' is, but does not think Riley wants food that runs away. Snek very fast, but little girl legs not run fast enough to catch food.

"Ssnek not know. Masster help?"

Master makes sound like laugh, and says magic words under his breath. He waves toward Riley then toward Snek, and suddenly Snek knows what Riley means by 'fast food'.

Snek looks at Riley. "Riley wantss Ssnek to fetch fasst food for her?"

Riley shakes head. "I will never understand how that works," she says to Master, then turns to Snek. "If you could, please. I'd really appreciate it." Riley makes eyes big as she says this.

"Careful with those puppy-dog eyes," says Master with smile. "Snek considers dogs to be a delicacy, not something to be petted."

Snek thinks this is Master joke. Riley not look like dog. "Ssnek will fetch fasst food for Riley. What fasst food Riley want?"

"Well, I've heard of this place in the northeast," says Riley. "Uh, could I have something to make a list on? And what are we going to use for money?"

"I have a collection of currency from many worlds," says Master. He snaps his fingers and scroll appears in midair with magic quill. "Recite your list."

Riley begins to speak.

<><>​

On the Boardwalk
Vista

Missy heard the sound of multiple horns being sounded from two blocks away. She looked around at Dennis, who was in the process of getting a selfie with with a tourist, making sure to get the Protectorate headquarters in the background. "You hear that?"

"Yup. Just … one … second … there!" The phone camera let out its electronic click, and Dennis handed the phone back to its owner. "There you go. A masterpiece, if I do say so myself."

"Wow, thanks. My friends back home are gonna be so jealous." The teen girl would have probably said more, but Missy cleared her throat meaningfully.

"Sorry, gotta go and do superhero stuff." Dennis came over to where Missy was standing. "So people are honking their horns. So what?"

"If I'm right, they're honking their horns right outside Fugly Bob's," Missy said. "This could mean many things. Most of them, not good."

"Okay, yeah, good point. We should totally check that out." Dennis activated his radio. "Clockblocker to console. We're on the Boardwalk. There's some kind of disturbance at Fugly's. Me and Vista are about to go check it out."

"Console copies." Kid Win sounded resigned. "If you get some, grab me some fries, will you?" He paused. "Whoa, hey, wait a minute."

"What?" asked Missy over her own radio. "What's going on?"

There was a pause. "Ahh … we just got a nine-one-one call that a giant snake is on site there. It's in the drive-through. Look, check it out, but stay clear and don't antagonise it. Clock, this is directly from the Director. Don't do anything that might even seem like an attack. Got it?"

Which meant 'no freezing it for the lulz'. Not that Dennis did that anymore, since spending about two months solid on console duty, but Triumph still held it over his head. Missy didn't think Dennis needed the warning, but it was probably better to be safe than sorry.

"Got it," Missy said crisply, echoed a moment later by Dennis. She turned off her microphone and took Dennis by the arm. "Let's go see what sort of giant snake causes this sort of ruckus."

There were people up and down the Boardwalk, but Missy had ways around that. She took a sightline on a nearby rooftop, then crunched space so that they could both step onto it with ease. Three steps later, they were overlooking Fugly Bob's.

"Um," said Dennis, his usual eloquence deserting him. "Okay, now that's definitely a snake."

"And it's definitely in the drive-through," agreed Missy, equally taken aback.

She'd been expecting a python of some sort; as far as she knew, those were the only type that grew to any significant size. Five or six yards would've counted as 'giant' for her. Ten yards would've been insane. This thing had to be …

"What would you say, seventy feet long?" Dennis' voice was a little strangled inside his helmet. "Four feet thick?"

Battling a sense of unreality, Missy shook her head. "Sixty, tops. Maybe three feet thick. It's … wow … actually going through the drive-through."

Sure enough, all the honking was from cars trying to gain access to the drive-through lane, which was taken up for a good four car-lengths behind it. Only in Brockton Bay, Missy decided, would idiots in cars try to dispute right of way with a reptile the length of a city bus.

In front of the tremendous reptile, it seemed that orders were being filled with somewhat more alacrity than normal. Nobody wanted to be responsible for upsetting the enormous scaly creature that was even now slithering up to the first window.

Beside Missy, Dennis tensed. When he spoke, his voice was devoid of his usual bantering humour. "If it tries to go in through the window, give me a spot to touch and I'll freeze it solid."

"Got it." Missy was fully aware that they'd been told not to antagonise it, but when escalation happened, they were in no way obliged to stand back and allow innocents to be slaughtered.

It reached the window and appeared to address the attendant within. Its mouth opened, and what looked like a tongue emerged, somehow holding something. It proffered this to the window.

"What is that?" murmured Missy.

"Damned if I know, but I just know they're gonna want pics," Dennis replied. He had his phone in his hand, and he was taking one photo after another.

Missy huffed, and held up her hands as if framing a movie shot. Within the rectangle, she squeezed space so that it suddenly seemed a lot closer to the drive-through window. She was just in time to see the attendant gingerly take what looked like a rolled-up scroll, then the giant snake's tongue pulled back into its mouth.

There was a pause, then the attendant said something; Missy couldn't hear exactly what it was, but she assumed it was a price, because this time the snake's tongue emerged holding what looked like money. She wasn't a herpetologist, and they hadn't done snakes in biology, but she was pretty sure their tongues didn't work that way. Only, this one's did. Also, it seemed to keep money in its mouth.

This is not a normal snake.

A moment later, the ridiculousness of the statement got back to her, and she face-palmed. What part of 'sixty-foot snake going through a fast food drive-through' was normal, after all?

"Okay," she said, dropping the space-crunch. "You good to get a bit closer?"

"Closer?" Dennis didn't sound overly enthusiastic at the prospect. "Why?"

"I want to talk to it."

Slowly, Dennis shook his head. "And why the hell not," he murmured. "Sure, let's do this thing. If I die horribly as snake chow, make sure to edit out the girly scream, okay?"

Missy snorted. "No promises."

<><>​

"Excuse me?"

Snek looks around. There is fence next to where Snek is, and two people on other side of fence. There is boy and girl. Boy is in white and girl is in green. Little girl in green is waving hand.

"Hello, green girl," says Snek. Vehicle in front moves forward. Snek wriggles forward too. Master has been definite about not wriggling over vehicles.

The boy and the girl walk forward until they are next to Snek again. "Hello," says girl. "What are you doing?"

"Ssnek iss fetching fasst food for Riley and Masster," says Snek proudly. "Masster gave Ssnek money. Ssnek iss buying thingss."

"Your name is Snek?" asks girl. Beside him, boy in white puts hand on blank place where face should be.

"Ssnek iss Ssnek," says Snek proudly. "Ssnek iss a good boy."

"I can see that," says girl. "I'm Vista, and this is … uh, Clock."

"Hello, Vissta," says Snek. "Hello, Clock." Snek is meeting many new friends. Snek likes this world.

Boy in white called Clock raises hand slightly. "Uh … who did you say you were buying the fast food for?"

"Ssnek is buying fasst food for Masster and Riley," Snek says. "Riley assk for burger and friess. Masster give Ssnek money to buy." He has never bought things with money before. This is fun!

"Who is your Master?" asks girl in green called Vista.

"Masster is Masster," Snek says. "Masster iss powerful wizard, livess in big casstle. Doess great magic. Ssnek helpss Masster."

"Of course he is," says boy in white called Clock, but does not say loudly. Snek is pleased that he understands.

Snek reaches window where food-smell comes out of. Friendly person there has paper bags for Snek. Snek unfolds tongue-graspers and takes bags, stores them in storage-place in throat. Riley has said there is something called 'Challenger' in there for Snek. "Thank you," Snek says. Snek likes to be polite.

Snek opens wriggle-hole to home then looks at new friends. "Goodbye, Vissta. Goodbye, Clock." Wriggles into wriggle-hole. Getting fast food is fun!

<><>​

Vista

Missy stared as the giant snake just … vanished into a hole that had appeared in midair, its entire sixty-foot length whipping through in less than a second. And of course, the hole—which her power was going nuts over—closed again, afterward. She shared a glance with Dennis, wishing for once that she could see his expression. It had to be at least as gobsmacked as hers.

"Well, that happened," he said at last.

"That absolutely happened," she agreed. "What just happened, I'm not totally sure, but whatever it was, it surely happened."

He nodded at her sage wisdom. "So, get us through to Fugly's?"

"Why?" She tilted her head. "It didn't attack them. In fact, it even thanked them."

He held up a finger. "It had an order for them. Written down. I want to see that list."

Slowly, she nodded. For all his carefree demeanour, Dennis had a brain, and sometimes it showed. "Yeah. I want to see that, too."

As she prepared to get them over to the front entrance of Fugly's, Dennis snickered. "Man, is the Director gonna blow a gasket over this or what?"

"What about? The giant snake, or the fact that it was just getting drive-through?"

He snickered harder. "Yes."

 

[Ack]

Snek Is a Good Boy

Part Four: Snek and the Nice Hat Lady

[A/N: This chapter both suggested and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Step twenty-nine. Enter alleyway, open trash can and deposit loaded firearm within.

Step thirty. Wait seventeen seconds for passers-by to go out of sight.

Step thirty-one—

An extremely large snake's head suddenly loomed over Contessa's shoulder, peering down at her with interest. "Hello," it said with a distinctly hissing accent. "What iss lady with nicce hat doing?"

"Ghah!" yelped Contessa, jumping backward and tripping over the trash can in her fright. The can fell over, the lid coming off, and the contents spilled out over the ground. The pistol she'd just put in there fell out, then was covered with rotting trash almost immediately.

Looking around as she scrambled to her feet, she saw that the enormous snake head was attached to an equally enormous snake, and that the body extended maybe twenty yards down the blind alley, all the way to the wall at the end. Which begged the question: where did it come from, so quietly?

"Ssnek iss ssorry, nicce hat lady," the snake said, curling its head around to address her. "Ssnek did not mean to frighten."

"What … where did you come from?" demanded Contessa. Her power had utterly failed to register the giant creature, or its potential effect on her plans. "What are you?" Reflexively, she started a Path designed to get her away from this … thing.

Step one: %&*$@ divide by zero error. A dull throb began to pulse between her eyebrows.

"Ssnek came from Masster'ss casstle," the gargantuan reptile answered politely. "Ssnek iss Ssnek."

What was going on? Why was her power glitching now, for the first time ever? She was used to it drawing a blank with Eidolon and the Endbringers, but she never got a headache from that!

And then, the enormous nose was nudging some of the trash aside, then what looked like a multi-branched tongue came out and plucked up the pistol she'd so carefully hidden in the trash can. "Nicce hat lady losst thiss," the snake said. "Iss bang-ouch weapon. Ssnek not like. Musst take care with theesse."

She could see the number of steps required for her other Path multiplying as she tried to cut out all requirements for this alley to be involved. The man called Franco had to get his hands on a gun at just the right time, in order to shoot his boss, so Contessa could show up and make him an offer he couldn't refuse. For a moment, she considered asking for it back, but that would involve putting her hand near that mouth, which could easily engulf her whole, and she couldn't Path what would happen.

"Keep it," she said hastily. Path to getting a new pistol. Step one. "Doorway to Chicago."

The portal opened in front of her and she stepped through, checking to make sure the thing wasn't about to slither through after her. It didn't, and she heaved a sigh of relief. Whatever the hell that had been, she'd left it behind, and could get on with her day.

The new Path involved going to a specific hotel room, where the weapons dealer had set up a miniature showroom. Walk in, pick out the gun she wanted, put down some money, walk out. Simplicity itself.

As she rode up in the elevator, she mulled over other reports of gargantuan snakes she'd heard of recently. Supposedly, one had actually eaten the villain Lung, up in New England, and another had killed Jack Slash in Des Moines. Also in New England, a bunch of footage had gone viral around a sixty-foot anaconda that had gone through a fast-food drive-through, paid for its food, then disappeared to parts unknown.

That last one had reactions divided more or less evenly between "gotta be a fake", "nope NOPE NOPE" and "aww he looks cute".

Contessa was firmly in the second camp, for reasons of her own. Snakes on their own she could take or leave, but when they got big enough to threaten small cars and she couldn't Path them, that was when she no longer wanted them anywhere near her. At all. Ever.

When I go back to Dallas, I'm going to have to keep an eye out for it. Just in case.

The elevator opened on the floor she wanted, and she stepped out. A quick flick of her eyes in both directions let her know there was nobody waiting to ambush her, so she started down the corridor toward the room in question. Two minutes, in and out, done and dusted.

"What iss nicce hat lady doing now?"

"Jesus motherfuck!" she half-screamed, leaping sideways hard enough to ram her shoulder with bruising force into the wall. Again, she arrested her reach for the pistol in her shoulder holster, because every instinct told her it wouldn't help.

Sure enough, right behind her, the too-large head with its bright inquisitive eyes and flickering tongue filled a good chunk of the corridor. Beyond it, she could see the rest of the body, which was in the process of slithering out of the elevator she'd just been in.

Her brain insisted this was absolutely and patently impossible. The creature was not particularly skinny—she estimated it to be about three feet thick, on average, and there was no way sixty feet of it would've even fitted into that small metal box, especially with her in there as well. And yet, more of it flowed out of the elevator as she watched.

"Thosse are not nicce wordss, nicce hat lady," the snake said reprovingly. "Masster ssayss to alwayss usse polite wordss. People sshould be nicce to each other."

"Sorry, sorry," she said, slumping against the wall and trying to get her heart rate under control again. I'm being lectured on my language by a giant prehistoric reptile. "You startled me. Where did you come from?"

"Ssnek already told nicce hat lady. Masster'ss casstle." The massive head tilted to one side curiously. "Iss nicce hat lady feeling unwell? Masster can fix. Masster can fix anything."

She must have been more severely rattled from the first encounter than she realized. This thing had a master. The implication was that this 'Master' was human, probably male. And while the snake itself seemed to make her power tie itself in knots for fun, the same was unlikely to apply to the cape behind this … projection? Projection, it had to be.

"I would like to meet your Master," she ventured. "Would that be possible?"

"Ssnek can take nicce hat lady to meet Masster," the snake responded happily. "Ssnek likess having new friendss. Nicce hat lady needss to get on Ssnek'ss back."

Carefully, she did as she was told. The scales were smooth but allowed her to grip with her knees. "Okay, what happens now?" she asked. There wasn't much corridor left in front of them.

"Now Ssnek will open wriggle-hole." And just like that, a portal, entirely unlike the ones Doormaker used, popped open in front of them. "Nicce hat lady hold tight."

With a surge of motion, they went through the portal and into a large stone building. The room they emerged into was huge, with the smoothed-down trunk of a tree extending at least eighty feet from floor to ceiling. The wooden column had rounded extensions protruding from it in all directions, almost but not quite like a rotating martial-arts dummy. In one corner of the room was an equally large round cushioned area with raised edges, easily twenty feet across and six feet thick.

"Thiss iss Ssnek'ss room," the snake said proudly. "Ssnek'ss winding-posst and bed. Iss very nicce to ssleep on. Masster made them for Ssnek."

"So I see," Contessa observed. She was beginning to get a better read on the snake now. It was sapient, but only to the level of a child. She'd also noticed that it rarely used pronouns, if at all; whether this was a personal quirk or a conceptual inability, she wasn't sure.

"Ssnek take nicce hat lady to ssee Masster now." Moving with a level of speed and agility she wasn't sure was natural in snakes—well, duh, this thing's about as natural as Armsmaster's halberd—it wriggled across the floor and down a stone corridor. When it reached the far end, it bumped on a large solid-looking door three times with its nose. And in fact, it counted under its breath as it did so.

"Come in, Snek," replied a mature-sounding masculine voice from behind the door. "And bring your guest as well."

Wait, how'd he know I was here? Dealing with other Thinkers could be a pain.

Opening its mouth, the snake put out that oddly branching tongue, which wrapped around the door handle and turned it, then pulled the door open. Still with Contessa on its back, it wriggled inside and stopped. She climbed off, looking around with interest.

This room was almost as large as the snake's living area, but it was set up like a mad Tinker's laboratory. Bubbling retorts lined shelves along the wall, various odd contraptions hung from wires or appeared to be in random stages of construction, and an elongated stuffed crocodile was suspended up near the ceiling. That is, it was a crocodile if such creatures had iridescent purple and green scales, and large bat-like wings. Riggght.

"Hello, Snek. Have you been a good boy?" The speaker had a long greying beard, wore robes and a pointy hat, and carried a gnarled wooden staff. While minor details differed, he could've easily passed for Myrddin if someone was just going by a general description. Contessa had no doubt this was the 'Master' the snake had been referring to.

"Yess, Masster," the snake replied. "Ssnek met nicce hat lady. Sshe dropped bang-ouch weapon sso Ssnek took. Sshe ssaid sshe wass not feeling well, sso Ssnek brought her here. Master fix?"

"Yes, I can deal with this problem. Go play, Snek." The Master let the staff go, leaving it to stand by itself while he stroked his beard gently and eyed Contessa in a way that left her wondering how deeply he could see into her soul.

Behind her, the snake wriggled out the door and closed it again … somehow.

"Greetings to you, Fortuna of an Earth long ago and far away." Well, that answered that. Definitely Thinker powers.

She took a breath, wondering if she'd miscalculated, but the pistol in her shoulder holster and the ability to call for a doorway were still moves she had in reserve, as well as the obvious. Path to getting this Master on side.

Step one: %&*$@ divide by infinity error. She gasped and staggered sideways a step as the headache returned with a vengeance.

"Tch, tch, tch," he mused, watching dispassionately as she regained her balance. "If I were you, I wouldn't try that again. A couple more backlashes like that, and you're likely to suffer an aneurysm. So, Contessa of Earth Bet, you encountered my Snek and took advantage of his innocent curiosity to attempt to gain leverage over him and me both. How very … cynical of you."

She eyed him cautiously, but he didn't seem to be about to launch an attack. "If you know who I am and where I'm from, then you're aware what's at stake," she rasped. "Billions or even trillions of lives."

"Oh, I am definitely aware." He took hold of his staff and made a pass with it. A holographic globe popped into existence in the air before them, and then another, and another and another. "Yours is not the only world in peril. Mine is not the only one I protect." Another twitch of the staff brought into being a creature that was all glowing eyes and shadowy tentacles, at least the size of the Moon, stretching its appendages out to wrap around one of the planets and drag it into eternal darkness. "Threats abound throughout the multiverse, some of which would overwhelm your little problems in an instant, or make them much, much worse." From the surface of the planet burst lightning, striking the shadow-creature and rending it asunder. "Are you beginning to understand?"

For the first time, she was. Either this guy was a consummate liar and showman, or he was the real deal. With the level of power he was exhibiting—somehow, she knew the shadow-creature and the lightning strike that had destroyed it had been one hundred percent real—he took even Eidolon's capabilities and made them irrelevant. "Yes." She gestured at the planet she thought was Earth Bet. "If you can do something about Scion and the Endbringers, why don't you?"

He smiled, a harshly amused expression. "I'm allowing Snek to go back there, aren't I? He likes your little world, and he's a good boy. He'll help protect you when I'm distracted with other matters. Now, I believe it's time for you to go."

"But wait—" She held up her hand, too late. The staff reached out and tapped her in the middle of the forehead. Everything went black.

<><>​

Snek wriggles into Master's work-room. There is only Master and Riley there. "Nicce hat lady gone?"

"Yes, she had to go," Master says, then holds out nice hat. "She left this for you."

Snek wriggles closer, so that Master can put hat on head. "Thank you, Masster. Iss nicce hat."

"Awww," says Riley. "Snek, that hat makes you look so cute!"

Snek preens. Snek likes being cute.

<><>​

Fortuna blinked and looked around at the alleyway. Where was I? I must have lost my train of thought. Oh, right. Acquire pistol for Franco to kill his boss.

As she prepared to Doorway back to Chicago, she felt the top of her head. Where's my hat?

<><>​

Diane perched on top of the roof, looking out over the city. Recovered from her ordeal with the Nine, with a new costume and an improved outlook on life, she was ready to go out and show the local lowlives how a Mouse did her Protecting. Crouching, she prepared to jump to the next roof over.

"Hello, Mouss."

The familiar voice brought her around in an instant. "Snek!" she squealed in joy, hugging the enormous reptile around his neck, then pulling back so she could boop his nose with her fist. "It's good to see you again!"

"Iss good to ssee Mouss again too." Snek rubbed the side of his head against her leg like the world's biggest pupper looking for skritchies. So of course, she could only oblige. "Mouss iss looking good."

"You too, and I love your haaaa—waaiiit a minute." Diane eyed the fedora perched in the middle of Snek's broad head. "That hat looks familiar. Where did you get it from?"

Snek looked very pleased with himself. "Iss pressent from nicce hat lady."

Nice hat lady, huh? If Diane wasn't mistaken, she knew exactly where it had come from, and that person wasn't in the habit of handing her hat out as a present to anyone. "When did you meet this nice hat lady?"

"Jusst a little while ago. Wass fun to talk to."

Diane began to snicker. If it had been 'fun' for Snek, and he'd ended up with that hat, she suspected it hadn't been fun at all for the cape boogeyman.

Well, serves her right. "Hey, Snek. Want to help me go find bad men and beat them up?"

"Ssnek likess helping Mouss." He adroitly ducked his head under her leg, so she suddenly found herself astride his neck. "Mouss hold on."

She did so, and he launched himself off the rooftop. "Woo hoooo!"



End of Part Four

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Five: The Snek, the Bug and the Snake

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Taylor kept a lookout all around with her bugs as she stood at the side of the road. It was a street much like any other, albeit more run-down than most, but it was in the northern part of the city, so that wasn't exactly surprising. The significance of the area, which would've escaped ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the population of Brockton Bay, was that Lung had died here.

Looking up at the building currently looming over her, she could easily see the gouges in the concrete frontage where he'd leaped upward and clung to the wall. His speed and strength, shocking at the time, were even more impressive when she was looking at the height of the leap from ground level. She knew now what she hadn't then; getting close enough to view the scene with her own eyes had been stupid and reckless, and that she'd come close to paying for that lesson with her life.

"You okay?" Danny put his hand on her shoulder.

She nodded, and dug her hands into the pockets of her jeans. "He was right here." Her toe tapped the deformed, grimy asphalt for emphasis. "The snake told him it was bad to attack children. He threw fire at the snake, then he threw fire up at me, then he jumped up at me, and that's when the snake grabbed him."

"And ate him." Danny shook his head, more in wonder than disbelief if she were any judge. "Well, as terrifying as it sounds, the snake saved your life. And got you to open up to me."

"And I'm glad I did." She leaned into the contact. "You helped give me some perspective."

"Every problem is the biggest problem in the world if you're looking at it from the inside," he noted. "Have you decided which way you're going to go with things? Independent, join a local team, or jump straight into the Wards?"

"Well, we don't really have many local teams, apart from New Wave." She took her hand out of her pocket to rub her nose. "And I don't feel like going maskless. Also, I know now exactly how risky it is to be out on my own."

He shrugged. "Well, less so since Lung died. The ABB's been more or less non-existent since that explosion in the middle of their territory. But yes, I'm still not comfortable with you going out on your own."

By silent mutual agreement, they turned and headed back toward the car. Taylor pursed her lips, considering the question that was still hanging in the air. "You know how I'm not thrilled about the Wards basically being my only real option."

Danny nodded. "As I recall, the phrase you used was, 'high school drama with powers'."

"On top of actual high school drama," she agreed. "So, can you think of a fifth alternative that isn't worse than going out on my own as an independent hero, unmasking with New Wave, joining the Wards or just trying to ignore the fact that I've got powers and can do some good in the world?"

"Well …" He chuckled to show that he wasn't serious. "You could always partner with the snake. That's what I call backup."

She giggled, a little shakily. "You shouldn't even joke about that, Dad. It was scary. Also, it ate Lung. Pretty sure every villain out there will be targeting it."

"I don't know about that," he said thoughtfully. "I saw on the news the other night about how it went through the drive-through at Fugly Bob's. Even paid for its meal. A couple of the Wards showed up and talked to it, but not a villain in sight."

"What?" Her head whipped around and she stared at him. "When did that happen?"

"Like I said, day before yesterday. You were tired from working out in the basement, so you went to bed early. Didn't you hear anything about it in school?"

That prompted an eye-roll. "You forget, Dad. I'm the social pariah. I'm spending more time using my bugs to keep clear of anyone who wants to pull bullshit on me than actually listening in on what they've got to say."

"Okay, got it." His jaw tightened, as it did with any reminder of the bullying. "How's it going with that, anyway? Do we have any more material for the lawsuit?"

Her father had been adamant about suing the school, but he hadn't wanted to go anywhere near Alan Barnes' law firm, so they'd found a different one. The lawyer who would be representing them, a Mr. Howe, had been nothing but helpful and encouraging for the whole process.

"A little bit." She waggled her hand from side to side. "They're still trying, but I think they're getting frustrated. You're serious about the drive-through thing?"

"Totally." He spread his hands, then got out the keys to unlock the car. "Look it up for yourself when you get home."

"Right." Once her door was unlocked, she climbed in. "I think it's time to jump back on my PHO account. If it's anywhere, it'll be there."

"Sounds about right." He fastened his seatbelt and started the car. "Also, I just had an idea about the other thing. Do you really need to be a hero?"

"Dad!" Scandalised, she stared at him. "I'm not going to be a villain!"

He raised an eyebrow. "There is a third choice, you know. You could monetise this. How many bug exterminators can tell exactly how many bugs are in the building before they even start? And how many can be certain about getting every single bug out?"

She blinked. "I … uh … oh." The more she considered the idea, the more she was sure she could do it. "Why didn't I think of this myself?"

Shifting the car into gear, he snorted with amusement. "Because nobody wakes up with super-powers and asks themselves, 'how can I make this into a boring nine-to-five job?' That's why."

"Oh. Right. But, uh … isn't there a law against using powers to make money?" She was sure she'd heard something about that in World Affairs.

He frowned. "It's not as hard and fast as that, but yeah, NEPEA-5 has provisions against purely cape-based industries. I'll have to look into it when we get home, after I check in with DC&H about whether they're ready to serve papers yet."

"And I'm going to be looking up PHO," she declared. "I want to see if it's the same snake."

"Because there are so many sixty-foot snakes in Brockton Bay," he teased her as they drove off.

She responded with the extremely mature and well-thought-out argument of blowing a raspberry.

<><>​

Snek

Snek has been a good boy.

Riley has been nice to him. She thanked Snek for fast food, and gave him snoot-boops. Snek likes snoot-boops. Fast food was fun. Snek enjoyed Challenger snacks.

He helped Master do Master things, too. Master sent him to where demons were hurting people. Snek likes spicy food. Snek can count to ten but there were many more demons than that. Snek was very full, after.

Master said it is good to help Mouse. Snek likes helping Mouse, because she says nice things about Snek's hat. It is a nice hat.

Now Mouse is doing Mouse things, and Master said he does not need Snek for little while yet, so Snek is bored. Snek decides to look for new friend.

Snek remembers buzzy-bug girl on building when he ate shouty fire metal man. He wonders if she knows where to find more shouty fire metal men. The last one was not as spicy as demon, but still spicy.

He decides to go find buzzy-bug girl. City is big, but Snek can smell really good.

<><>​

Coil

It was official. Thomas Calvert did not like what was going on.

He'd had almost all his ducks in a row for the Alcott abduction, then half the city went nuts after a giant snake ate Lung. The new cape he'd been planning on recruiting via the Undersiders didn't even get to meet them, and he'd had to abandon all his timelines because of inexplicable splitting headaches.

Since then, anytime he tried to split time for more than a day, the headaches returned or he started getting clear impossibilities as a result. And every time he had the Alcott girl kidnapped, it always went bad, usually involving something huge and scaly roaming through the base and hunting him down.

The worst bit was when he turned on the TV and nearly soiled himself when he saw the creature itself carefully wriggling through the drive-through at Fugly Bob's. At one point, it turned its head toward the camera and he could've sworn it was looking directly at him. Once it had its food, it vanished through some kind of teleport-portal, which didn't make him any happier.

His plans to foment city-wide instability had also struck a severe snag. In the aftermath of Lung's death, it seemed that Bakuda and Oni Lee had disagreed over who was to lead the gang; this had culminated in the Tinker's lab exploding dramatically and leaving a glass-lined crater. Nobody had seen either cape since, and the ABB's presence in the city had dropped away to almost nothing. Without the Asian gang to confront, the Empire wasn't causing nearly as much unrest as he'd hoped.

Picking up the phone, he dialled Tattletale's number. She had a talent of getting around blocks that stopped other Thinkers, so he wanted to know what she had to say on the matter. If he couldn't kill or suborn whoever was behind it, he wanted them out of the city by whatever means possible.

<><>​

Taylor

It was much later by the time Taylor pushed back from her computer desk, having thoroughly combed through the PHO thread whimsically titled Our Snekky Overlord. It had been started by Mouse Protector, of all people, and included several selfies with her and the oversized serpent … wearing a normal-sized fedora on its enormous head.

His enormous head; apparently, Snek (he had a name) was a 'he', and Mouse Protector had waxed lyrical about his playfulness, his sense of humour, and his ability to eat supervillains whole. Because apparently Lung wasn't a fluke. He'd done it to Hatchet Face as well.

Also included (because why not) was a section of footage (taken by Mouse Protector using a selfie stick) showing the comedic hero riding on Snek's neck across what looked vaguely like Boston. There was a blow-by-blow portrayal of Snek helping track down and capture Ravager (apparently someone Mouse Protector had a long-standing enmity with), whereupon the villain was given the mother of all wedgies by hanging her from a lamp-post by her underwear.

The PHO reactions had been many and varied, ranging from 'this has to be CGI' all the way through to 'no shit, there I was when Mouse Protector came riding down the street on this giant snake'. The moderators had been pushed to their limits keeping things from exploding out of control, dousing flamewars as soon as they started, though things had reduced to relative sanity after Armsmaster and several PRT-affiliated sources had come forward to confirm Snek's existence.

Along the way, she had learned more ways to refer to snakes than she'd ever thought possible, from 'danger noodle' to 'nope rope' to 'slippery tube dude', 'hazard spaghetti', 'caution Ramen', 'dangle fangle' and 'panic pipeline'. Some of these made her giggle, while others induced a facepalm.

But even all that hadn't prepared Taylor for the phone videos of Snek just casually going through the Fugly's drivethrough down on the Boardwalk. She'd seen him in action before, but that had been at night, in the dark, and a lot of the action had been obscured by Lung himself. This time around, it was just … weirdly normal. Made all the more surreal by the two Wards who appeared on the scene and even had a short conversation with him before he vanished.

After that, Taylor was prepared to swear it was the same snake. (Or rather, the same Snek). That portal-travel was unmistakeable. "Wow," she said softly, and repeated something Mouse Protector had posted. "Snek is a good boy."

"Thank you," hissed a voice from just outside her window. "Buzzy-bug girl iss nicce too."

Taylor froze. She hadn't been keeping her swarm up and active while at home; this was an oversight she immediately swore she would never commit again. While she put out a call to every bug she could muster in the surrounding blocks, she slowly turned her head to see who had spoken.

An eye roughly the size of her head, with a gold-fringed slit pupil, looked back at her. It was inset into a gigantic scaly head, upon which was perched a stylish fedora, and somehow managed to convey far more emotion than a snake's eye should be able to. There was an innocent playfulness in there, and more than a little amusement. Of malice, there was none.

"H-hello?" she replied. "Snek?" For that eye, that head, that hat, could belong to none other.

"Hello," Snek replied. The head pulled away a little, then turned so that the other eye could inspect her. "Ssnek iss Ssnek. Buzzy-bug girl like to come out, bring buzzy-bugss, punissh bad men?"

"W-wait." This was moving too fast for Taylor. She knew Mouse Protector had worked with him, but she was a long-established hero. "You—you want me to come out with you?"

"Yess, buzzy-bug girl." Snek's mouth was longer than Taylor's arm, but he still seemed to smile. "Maybe Ssnek find another sshouty fire metal man to eat."

"Shouty fire metal— oh. No, I don't think there's any more Lungs out there. At least, I hope not." She was finding the conversation deeply surreal, but Snek was oddly easy to talk to. "We can still go beat up bad guys if you want to. But I'm pretty sure I'm not bulletproof. Or fireproof."

"Ssnek will protect buzzy-bug girl," the colossal snake replied, with a simple matter-of-fact air. "Punissh bad men iss fun. Even if not eat."

"Yeah." She nodded. "I can go with that. But I'm going to have to tell Dad first. I promised not to go out without telling him."

"Ssnek undersstandss. Ssnek alwayss tellss Masster when Ssnek visitss other worldss."

She wasn't sure she wanted to ask about 'Masster' or the 'other worlds' reference. Or rather, she wanted to ask, but she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answers. Getting up from the chair, she indicated the door of her room. "I'm just going to go check with him. Are you okay to wait?"

The massive head nodded. "Ssnek iss good at waiting."

Well, okay then. Taylor trotted downstairs, then through into the kitchen and down into the basement where she retrieved her costume. Then she headed upstairs again, into the living room, where Danny was watching the news. "Dad?"

<><>​

Danny

When Taylor went down to the basement, Danny tilted his head slightly in concern. She'd promised not to go out again in costume without notifying him first, and he didn't think she'd break her word without an exceptionally good reason. But ... he couldn't think of anything else she'd be going down there for. However, when she came back up—costume in hand—she came straight to him. "Dad?"

Muting the TV, he sat up straight and looked at her. "You're going out?"

She hesitated, which drew his attention even more strongly. "I … yeah. You know how you made a joke about me partnering with, uh, Snek?"

It took him a second or so to make the connection. "What, the big snake?" Where'd she get that name from?

"Uh … yeah. So, he's outside … well, my bedroom window. Inviting me to come out and beat up bad guys with him."

He blinked, slowly. "Wait, what again now?"

"Come on. I'll show you." She started toward the entrance hall.

With that sort of lead-in, he didn't have much of a choice. Getting up from the sofa, he followed her upstairs and along the corridor to her room. Where a giant snake was peering in through the window. A giant snake with a fedora perched on the middle of its gargantuan head.

"Hello," it said politely. "Ssnek iss Ssnek."

"Ah, hi." This was not what Danny had been expecting to do this evening. "I'm Danny. I'm, uh, I'm Taylor's father."

"Hello, Danny. Ssnek will keep buzzy-bug girl Taylor ssafe."

By rights, Danny should've been screaming and running from the room. But against all odds, Snek seemed … friendly. Approachable, even. It may have been the hat. "I like your hat."

"Thank you." Snek seemed to preen. "It wass pressent from nicce hat lady."

He wasn't sure how to address that, so he decided to go on to the topic that really concerned him. "Uh … you know Taylor's only new at being a hero, right?"

Snek nodded. "Yess. Ssnek knowss that. Ssnek will protect buzzy-bug girl Taylor."

"Good, good." He was running out of things to say. What did one talk about with a giant snake, anyway? "Uh, how do you like Brockton Bay? The city, I mean?"

This time, Snek's smile was unmistakeable. "Ssnek likess ccity. Many bad men to play with. Ssnek met sshouty fire metal man. Wass bad man. Ssnek ate him. Wass deliciouss."

And saved Taylor at the same time. "So … you only eat bad men?"

Snek nodded again. "Yess. Masster hass ssaid not to hurt children, and to only eat bad men. Ssnek iss a good boy."

"I can see that." Danny wanted to ask about Snek's 'masster', but thought it might be rude.

Taylor hustled in, wearing her costume. Pulling her mask over her head, she tugged her hair through the space at the back. "Okay, I'm ready to go."

"Got your pepper spray and burner phone?" Danny still didn't like cell-phones, but this was a special case.

"Right here." She reached over her shoulder and tapped the carapace on her back. "All charged up and ready to go."

"Okay, good." He gave her a brief hug; she returned it. "Take care, and call me if you need anything at all. Okay?" He wouldn't even have been condoning this excursion, except that he'd seen the selfies Mouse Protector had taken with Snek.

"Absolutely." She climbed out the window. Snek's head dipped down, so that Taylor ended up astride his neck. "See you when I get home."

It was hard to speak past the lump in his throat. "Kick some ass for me."

"Will do. Whooo!" The last whoop was occasioned when a weird hole opened in the ground in front of Snek and he dived into it, taking Taylor with him.

Half a second later, the portal closed, leaving no sign that there'd ever been a giant snake in his side yard. Shaking his head, Danny turned and left the room. It was a good thing that the TV was already on the news channel, because he was going to be paying very close attention to it for the rest of the evening.

Nobody ever warned me that being the parent of a superhero would be this stressful.

<><>​

Coil

After a few days of nothing going wrong, Calvert had settled on a basic armoured car robbery. For the moment, everything seemed to be going according to plan. While the guards had locked the doors and bunkered down, the lasers wielded by his men were carving the back of the truck open. Another few million in the kitty was always a good idea.

The first indication of trouble came when a circular portal opened in the side of the truck, and that goddamn snake barrelled out into the midst of his men. Knocking them aside like skittles, it wrapped its body protectively around the truck, its sheer bulk shielding the lower six feet of the vehicle from their lasers. A sharp spike of pain shot through his head as he stared through the various helmet-cam feeds at the creature; he went to drop the timeline, but the other one had already vanished like the morning fog.

"Sir?" It was Hodges, the nominal leader of this mission. "What do we do?"

He was already committed. "Lasers, full power. Kill that thing."

"Copy that." He heard the orders being passed on, then all his men fired their lasers at the gigantic snake. A smile of grim satisfaction crossed his features; getting rid of it had always been in his plans, but this was too easy.

Right up until bugs started swarming his men. Yells arose as faceplates were obscured. More urgent shouts rang out as the bugs began (he suspected) crawling into their clothing and seeking flesh to bite and sting. And then, as they were distracted, the snake's head loomed unexpectedly out of the curtain of bugs to delicately snatch the rifles from his men's hands with what looked like a prehensile tongue. One after the other, so neatly and precisely that it had to have been pre-planned, they were disarmed.

Nobody hung on to their weapons for even a few seconds. With the size of the jaws on that thing, it could easily have made 'dis-arming' a much more painful and permanent affair. As much as Calvert wanted to blame them, he couldn't.

It's that other cape, the bug controller. They're working together. As unpalatable as it was, the conclusion hadn't been hard to reach.

"Retreat!" he ordered. "Get your men out of there!"

"We can't!" Hodges broke off, hacking and coughing. A moment later, a wall of scales appeared in front of him and knocked him backward, off his feet. "It's—kack—everywhere!"

And then the helmet cameras started blinking off, one after the other. As the last one went dark, Calvert slumped into his chair. The headache was pounding harder than ever, preventing him from accessing his power. Wherever he went, whatever he tried to do, this thing thwarted his wishes.

With his eyes squeezed shut, he accepted the inevitable. Fuck this. I'm leaving town.

Maybe he could make a start somewhere else. As far as he was concerned, the snake could have Brockton Bay.

<><>​

Taylor

"Well, that was fun," Taylor said brightly, leaning against the side of Snek's head. She'd been careful to take cover while he assaulted the armoured-car robbers, and her swarm had made it a lot harder for them to fight back. All they were waiting for now were the cops. "Did you have fun, Snek?"

"Yess, buzzy-bug girl. Ssnek had fun. Glowy-light thingss were tickly." Snek rubbed his head up against Taylor like the world's biggest puppy-dog, begging for skritchies. She obliged, then gave his snout a pat. He seemed to enjoy that, too.

She had to admit, being a hero was a whole lot easier with a giant laser-proof Snek around.

<><>​

Snek is happy. Snek has been a good boy.



End of Part Five

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Six: Decisions, Decisions

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


In an undisclosed location in Brockton Bay, two villains argued.

"No."

"But—"

"I said no."

"But think of—"

"What part of not on your fucking life do you fail to understand?"

"… you didn't say that before."

"I figured it was understood."

"So I can't …?"

"Only if you give me time to leave town first."

"So … no?"

"No."

"Aww."

"Don't 'aww' me, you idiot. I've gone along with a lot of your ideas before now. But we are not doing an episode of 'Snake'. Especially not with a sixty-foot snake!"

"You're no fun."

"I'm saving your life. Three words. That's all you need to know."

"Three words?"

"It. Can. Teleport."

"Oh. Oh, shit."

"Yeah. 'Oh, shit.' That's why I'm saying no. Also, because it could eat us both alive, and that's not actually a figure of speech."

"Okay, fii-ine. We won't do it."

"Good."

Leet sulked, while Uber went back to playing his computer game.

<><>​

Danny

When the news began showing footage of the abortive armoured truck robbery, Danny sat up and started paying real attention. Robberies happened all the time. If it wasn't the Empire, it was the ABB. Except that Lung was exceedingly dead, and he hadn't seen anything in the news about the ABB recently. Even on the grapevine, he hadn't heard about Asian families being 'asked' for contributions.

However, this robbery had been by some black-clad thugs, apparently armed with laser weapons, and they'd been brought low by none other than Taylor and Snek. The reporter had shown impressive fortitude in interviewing Snek for the nightly news, though all she came away with was, "bad men ssteal thingss. Ssnek not let them. Buzzy-bug girl help with buzzy-bugss."

Taylor was a little more forthcoming, but all she really told them was that she was temporarily partnering with Snek, and that he was as cool as Mouse Protector had said he was. The reporter pressed her for a cape name, of course, so she replied with 'Lady Swarm'. It wasn't as bad as some, Danny judged. In the meantime, Snek seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, preening and posing for the cameras.

A knock on the door caught his attention, just as he was watching Taylor climb aboard Snek's neck. Then, a moment later, he realised that the sound had come from the back door. "Who's that?" he muttered, getting to his feet.

Heading through to the kitchen, he unlocked the door … and came face to face with Taylor. Her mask was off, and her face alight with happiness. Just for a moment, his brain stuttered to a halt, caught in the cognitive dissonance from seeing her on the TV screen only seconds before.

Oh, right. They'd have a time delay before broadcasting, and the snake can teleport.

"You're back," he said lamely. "I saw you on the news. Did you, uh, did you have fun?"

"Oh, yeah." She grinned broadly, then gestured at where the gargantuan serpent was taking up most of the back yard. "Snek wanted to say goodbye before he went."

Snek. Right. The fact that the giant talking snake had a name had momentarily slipped his mind. "Well, that's nice of him."

As Danny descended the steps, Snek raised his head. He didn't have to raise it far before his eyes were at Danny's eye level. "Hello, Danny," Snek said. "Buzzy-bug girl Taylor iss a good hero. Helped Ssnek sstop bad men."

"That's, um, that's good." Danny wasn't sure what else to say … well, there was one thing. "Thanks for protecting her. Have a good night."

"Bye, Snek." Taylor was less restrained as she wrapped her arms around Snek's barrel neck and hugged him. He seemed to enjoy it. "Thanks for taking me out with you. It was fun."

"Ssnek liked it, too. Will come back ssometime. Goodbye, Danny. Goodbye, buzzy-bug girl."

As Taylor released him and stepped back, Snek reared his head slightly then dived into the portal that had formed on the ground beneath him. Danny blinked as the entire colossal length of the snake whipped out of sight through the portal in one blurred motion. Before he could properly react, Snek was gone, and the portal had closed.

"… wow," Danny said at last. "Did he move that fast when you were on his back? Neck, whatever?"

"Mm-hmm," Taylor confirmed, leading the way back into the house. "He's only got two gears; slow and steady, and supersonic. Well, I don't think he actually breaks the speed of sound, but he can move really fast when he wants to."

Danny climbed the steps behind her, then closed and locked the back door. "Did he happen to say where he's from, or who this 'master' is?"

"Not really," she replied thoughtfully. "He did say stuff that made me think he travels to other worlds on the regular, and that his Master lives on one of those other worlds, but that was about it. Oh, and his Master is a wise and powerful wizard who does Masster sstuff."

That prompted an eye-roll from Danny. "Why am I not surprised." It wasn't even remotely a question.

"I know, right?" Taylor sniffed. "Is that dinner I smell?"

"It is." He pointed upward. "Go shower and change first. No costumes at my table, young lady. And while we're eating, you can regale me with your adventures."

She grinned. "You're on." Turning, she headed for the stairs.

<><>​

Snek is happy. Buzzy-bug girl Taylor used buzzy-bugs to help Snek stop bad men. That was fun. Bad men did not look happy, but Snek does not care. Buzzy-bug girl and Danny are new friends. This is two times now that Snek has protected buzzy-bug girl. Snek is a good boy.

Snek opens wriggle-hole to Master's castle, and wriggles up to Master's door. Bonk, bonk, bonk goes Snek's snoot on door, while Snek counts carefully to three.

"Come in, Snek," says Master.

Snek opens door with tongue and wriggles in. Master is there, and Riley. Riley waves when she sees Snek. Riley has said many times that she is happy Snek brought her to Master. This makes Snek happy too.

"Hello, Masster," says Snek. "Hello, Riley."

Master nods and strokes his beard as he looks at Snek. "You've been helping the superheroes on Riley's world, haven't you, Snek?"

"Yess, Masster." Snek is impressed. "Masster is very wise."

Master waves a hand. "It was no great feat of deduction. I can see where someone tried to burn you with a laser. Your scales are slightly scorched. I may need to upgrade your Ironskin enchantment if this keeps up."

Snek feels nervous. Master is talking about giving him things when Snek wants to ask for something else. Snek does not want to sound greedy. "Masster … Ssnek would like to assk for big favour insstead."

"Really?" Master tilts his head. "What favour is this, Snek? Ask, and I shall see if it is possible."

Snek nods. Master is so kind and wise. "Fun world iss fun. Many bad men to eat. But when Ssnek goes there, Ssnek findss ladiess and children in danger. Ssnek wantss to find and help them every time. Masster help Ssnek do thiss?"

"Well, now." Master turns to Riley. "Do you see that? I did not implant that altruistic seed in him at all. He's grown and nurtured it all by himself."

Snek waits. Master has not said no yet, but he has not said yes yet either.

"Uh-huh." Riley nods. "Wow, Snek. You are a good boy."

Snek preens. Snek likes being told that he is a good boy.

"My thoughts exactly." Master turns back to Snek. "Come a little closer, Snek."

"Yess, Masster." Snek wriggles closer, and puts his head where Master can reach it.

Master speaks magic words and waves hands. Lights are pretty around Master's hands. When Master touches Snek's head, Snek feels tingly in head for a little bit. "And thus," says Master. "It is done."

"I will never understand how that works," says Riley. "What did that feel like, Snek?"

"It feelss like Masster magic," says Snek. "Masster iss great wizard."

"I could teach you, Riley, but it would require that you unlearn a great many parts of your worldview. You are probably happier as you are." Master nods to Snek. "If you wish to go and test out your new ability, feel free. I won't be needing you for another few hours."

"Thank you, Masster." Snek goes to Riley for skritches and snoot-boops, then opens wriggle-hole. Time to go help people!

<><>​

Tattletale

"Okay, so you're leaving town." Lisa looked pointedly around at Coil's base, where the mercenaries were busily breaking down crates of supplies into man-portable lots, then back at Coil himself. "So why did you call me in? Is there one last job you want the Undersiders to pull? Because if that's the case, allow me to introduce you to a new invention that's been making the rounds in the last century or so: the telephone."

Inside, she knew she should've been celebrating but she had an uneasy feeling in the back of her head. Although Coil was good at hiding his tells, especially through that body-stocking costume he wore, she could usually pick out his motives. Today, he was being especially careful not to give anything away.

"It's very simple." He rotated his swivel chair to look at her; as tall as he was, they were on the same eye level. "You're coming with me."

And there it was: the warning in the back of her head that had been trying to get her attention for the last hour. "Nope," she said, scissoring her hands in front of her. "No way. I quit. I'm out."

"Oh, Tattletale," he said, standing up to loom over her. "Whatever made you think I was giving you a choice in the matter?"

She turned to run—though she wasn't sure where she could run to in this base—and got precisely three steps before two of his mercenaries grabbed her by the arms. They spun her around and marched her straight back to Coil. He hadn't moved at all, even during her escape attempt. Far, far too late, she realised he'd planned out this entire encounter.

"Well, you can forget about ever getting another hint or tip or bit of information out of me," she spat. "I'll steer you so wrong you'll find yourself halfway to Antarctica."

He shook his head and tutted, as though chastising a wayward child. "Tattletale, you just keep making assumptions. It's always been your weakness. Well, that and assuming that you're smarter than me. Whatever makes you think I was going to trust you in the slightest? With the appropriate drugs in your system, you'll be incapable of lying to me. You'll be begging to be allowed to provide a prognostication in return for your next fix."

Ice-cold water poured through her veins as she realised—thanks for nothing, power—that he meant every word. He had the drugs he was referring to, and fully intended to keep her in a strung-out haze for as long as she was useful to him.

I am so totally fucked.

Shouts arose throughout the base, ranging from surprise to sheer panic. Coil took a step back, bringing his hands up defensively. "No … no …" he choked. "Get away from me!"

On either side of Lisa, the mercenaries holding her looked around. One of them soiled himself right there; she could smell it, sharp in the base's filtered air. Both let go her arms and launched themselves away from her, yelling something incoherent but probably highly profane.

Do I want to know what's behind me?

No, no, I do not.

She tried to consult her power, but she got the impression that it was gibbering in the corner. It didn't want to know, either.

Slowly, she turned her head, and came face to snout with the biggest goddamn snake she'd ever seen in her life. It was the snake, she quickly realised. The one she'd seen in the news. There couldn't be two of them, and besides, the markings matched perfectly.

Part of her wondered why she wasn't shitting herself and running away as well, but another part told her firmly that Snek—she remembered that much—looked friendly. In fact, he looked downright cute. Especially with that fedora perched on top of his head.

"H-hello?" she ventured. Snek seemed to smile back at her; with a mouth that large, he could really smile. She tried to ignore the fact that he'd been seen to eat several supervillains whole.

"Hello, purple girl." His voice held a hissing undertone that should've interfered with his speech, but didn't. "Ssnek iss Ssnek. Bad men? Can eat?"

All of a sudden, she decided she was perfectly happy with being called 'purple girl'. "Yes, everyone in here except for me is a bad man. You can eat them. They might be a bit crunchy, though."

"Iss fine. Ssnek hass sstrong teeth." The snake made a swift dipping motion with his head, and Lisa found herself astride his neck. "Purple girl hold on."

And thus, the hunt began. Afterward, Lisa had just one regret: no popcorn.

<><>​

Armsmaster

Colin pulled up on his motorbike and dismounted in one smooth move. "You there!" he called out to the dark-clad men—Coil's mercenaries, if he were any judge—who were backing away from the open manhole, rifles trained on it. "Put your weapons on the ground!"

One of the men turned to glance at him, but didn't point the rifle in his direction. This was fortunate for the mercenary; Colin's halberd had a high-end wireless taser ready to shock him into insensibility if he tried anything like that. "Hell with that!" the man responded. "It's down there!"

The PRT truck that had been following Colin pulled up with a screech of brakes, and troops began to deploy. They held a mix of assault rifles and containment foam; the teenage girl who'd phoned in the anonymous tip had given several locations where they might find Coil's mercs coming out of his underground base. None of them were known to be high-end Brutes, so the troopers were going with a standard loadout.

"Well, we're here now, so you can put your weapons down and submit to lawful custody. Or we can foam you. Your choice." Colin had attended de-escalation classes, and he hoped he was hitting the right notes here.

Frightened shouts drifted up out of the hole, and the mercenaries took a few steps back. There was a scrabbling noise in the manhole, and rifles rose to cover it. Two more mercenaries emerged as though all the hounds of Hell were behind them.

"What is it?" Colin asked the closest one. "What's down there?"

"The snake," the man babbled. "The demon snake. The one on the news. It's chasing everyone. It's eating everyone. And she's riding on its back and laughing. Arrest me, I'll confess to everything. Just don't let it get me!"

That clarified matters considerably. Colin had viewed the ABB footage of the creature called 'Snek', and had been present for Mouse Protector's debriefing on the matter. He'd also read every other report on the thing, though he hadn't been able to turn up in time for the armoured-truck heist before Snek and the girl called 'Lady Swarm' departed.

Which just begged one more question. "Who is riding on its back?" he asked. "Mouse Protector, a girl in a bug-themed costume, or Bonesaw?" His next move depended on which answer he got.

"Tattletale!" the guy yelped. "It's Tattletale! I'll tell you everything! Just don't let it get me!"

Behind his visor, Colin blinked. What does Tattletale have to do with all this?

<><>​

Tattletale

Lisa was still grinning as Snek moved along the concrete passageway with a weird sort of caterpillar-motion that she'd never heard of snakes using before. Coil, groaning slightly, hung in Snek's mouth like a limp stick of celery. The PRT should already be onsite, considering that she'd called them some time ago, and she'd decided that handing over her ex-boss to them would be just a teensy bit more satisfying than having Snek treat him like a chewy meat snack.

As they emerged into fresh air, she saw a bunch of PRT guys, as well as a couple of superheroes. The mercenaries were easy to pick out; they were the ones covered in containment foam, who let out little shrieks as Snek slid out of the opening. "Oh, hey," she said conversationally. "Nice to see you got my call. You, uh, you can stop pointing the guns now. They'll only tickle him, and if I get hurt, he'll get mad."

Carefully, Snek spat Coil's limp body out onto the gravel. "That iss true," he confirmed. "Ssnek not like ladiess or children get hurt."

Armsmaster waved a hand. "Everyone, stand down," he ordered. "Tattletale, correct? And … Snek?"

"Hello, pointy metal sstick man," Snek said, instantly cementing him in Tattletale's heart as her favourite gigantic snake ever. "Ssnek iss Ssnek. Here iss white ssnake man. Iss too sstringy to eat. Will get sstuck in teeth. Pointy metal sstick man can have."

Lisa, who was giggling too hard by this point to form coherent words, nodded and waved her hand in a general gesture of agreement. She might've been the one to coach Snek on what to say, but it was still hilarious when he said it. And 'pointy metal stick man' had been all his idea.

"It ate three of our men!" shouted one of the mercenaries. "I saw it!" When Snek looked over at him, he ducked behind his fellows.

Recovering enough to talk, Lisa cleared her throat. "They were trying to shoot me," she pointed out. "And throwing grenades. Snek ate the grenades, didn't you, Mister Snek?" She patted the enormous scaled head fondly.

"Yess, purple girl," Snek replied happily. "They were sspiccy. Like sshouty fire metal man. Ssnek likess sspiccy food."

A pained chuckle from the ground drew Lisa's attention. "You're screwed," Coil said, then coughed. "Ow. Your pet monster has screwed you up so hard. There's a monster in my basement that nobody can stop. This city's going to burn."

"What, like it was going to burn when you were going to just leave and tell nobody you were going?" asked Lisa. "So … the only difference is that you're going to be here to enjoy it along with us?"

<><>​

Armsmaster

"I've heard enough." Colin stepped forward. "Coil, you're under arrest. We'll present you with a list of charges once we've assembled it." He raised his voice. "Put the word out. We're locking this place down until we can go in there and deal with this 'monster' he's talking about." Of course, he'd be leading the expedition.

"Monsster?" asked Snek eagerly. "Can Ssnek eat monsster?"

"Wait, wait," said Tattletale. "Is this 'monster' a member of the Travellers? Because they moved in down there just a little while ago."

This was news to Colin. He'd heard of the Travellers, but not that they were in Brockton Bay.

Coil chuckled painfully, but didn't speak. Tattletale's lips thinned. "That means 'yes'."

"So … the Travellers are still down there, in the base?" Colin frowned. This put a new complexion on matters. Assaulting a prepared position, with a bunch of supervillains defending it, would be problematic in the extreme.

"Ssnek not know Travellerss," the giant snake put in. "Can Ssnek eat monsster?"

Tattletale cleared her throat. "The Travellers are a bunch of capes, like me and—" she smirked— "pointy metal stick man. They've got powers. One of them is the monster. Don't eat the rest of them."

"Ssnek undersstandss." With a swooping dip to his neck, the giant reptile somehow left Tattletale standing in front of Colin. "Ssnek will bring Travellerss."

"But—" Before Armsmaster could do more than register a brief protest, a portal formed in midair, and the snake dived into it. He'd seen the footage of this happening, but seeing it and being there when it happened were two different things.

"Well," said Tattletale. "That was, uh, that was a thing." She looked a little ruffled.

"Where did it go?" asked Colin. "When it said it was bringing the Travellers—"

A portal opened and the enormous head protruded for just long enough to spit out a costumed girl. She landed on her butt with a startled yelp, then looked around at the assembled PRT troopers. Colin belatedly recognised her as Sundancer, of the Travellers.

"Uh … I surrender?" she ventured.

"Good move," Colin said approvingly, just as another portal opened. This time, Snek spat out not just a person, but also the wheelchair she was sitting in. Colin didn't recognise her at all, which raised a few questions.

"What the fuck?" asked the girl in the wheelchair. "What just happened? What was that thing?"

Tattletale began to giggle again. "Congratulations. You've just been Snekked."

Three more people were spat out in quick succession, all men; two were in costume, recognisable as Trickster and Ballistic of the Travellers, but the third also lacked a costume. Colin figured he'd learn who he was soon enough.

With its head still protruding from the portal, Snek announced, "Ssnek fight monsster now! Fun!"

"No!" The young man with the top hat—it had fallen off when he was spat out of the portal—raised one hand, as though to stop the snake. "Noelle doesn't mean any harm! It's her power doing everything!"

Snek paused. "Not monsster? No fight? No eat?" He sounded positively disappointed.

"No," said Trickster wretchedly. "Her power went wrong. It's not her fault. Don't kill her, please."

"Ssnek take to Masster," the snake decided. "Masster fix. Masster fix Riley, Masster fix not-monsster No-elle. Masster fix anything."

It vanished again, and Colin looked at Tattletale. "Do you have any idea who this 'Masster' is?"

"Search me." The teenage girl spread her hands in the classic 'no idea' gesture. "I just met him a little while ago. All I know is, he's really enthusiastic about what he does."

"Why, yes," he said dryly. "I had gathered that." He tilted his helmet toward her. "Now, we come to the matter of your role in all this."

She glanced from side to side, suddenly looking more than a little hunted. "Uh, can we just call it quits? I mean, you've just cleared up two gangs in the city for the price of one. Just saying."

He nodded. "True. So, I have a question. Why were you in his base?"

She fidgeted. "Um … quick question."

"Yes?"

"If I tell you everything I know about Coil, could I maybe not go to prison?"

He smiled. "We'll see."



End of Part Six

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Seven: Noelle

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Elsewhere

Noelle opened her eyes with a gasp and sat up. The dream she'd been having was so vivid, her heart was still racing. She'd been in Coil's base, and something had been happening outside, and nobody was answering the comm panel … and then something had invaded her space.

The beast with which she was merged had attacked immediately, of course. The intruder was long and sinuous and insanely strong, and had wrapped her monstrous body up until she was immobilised. Then, in a weird hissing voice, like a cartoon snake, it had apologised to her and asked its master for help.

After that … the dream had gotten even weirder, if that was possible. She had flashes of a huge room made only from stone, and a bearded man chanting in a language that made her head hurt. It hurt the beast even more but there was no fighting back, as the impossible … snake? … permitted no escape from its coils.

One tiny detail that stuck in her memory: the snake had been wearing a normal-sized hat, one that refused to fall off even when the massive head was upside down. If nothing else had convinced her this was a dream, that would have.

The dream ended there, which left her obscurely disappointed. She kind of wondered where it had been going with the snake imagery, and the wizard in the castle; she'd played enough Ransack to be fairly certain of that particular fact. A high-level mage, she mused, pulling back the covers and swinging her legs over the side of the four-poster bed. Casting a ritual spell. That would definitely be something to see.

Then she froze and slammed her eyes shut. Holding absolutely still, she breathed in and out, in and out. Carefully, actually taking in details for the first time, she ran her hands over the sheets she was sitting on. She was no expert, but they felt very high-quality; something like Egyptian cotton.

She hadn't been able to sleep in a real bed, with or without sheets, for longer than she wanted to think about.

Next, she moved her feet over what they were resting on, curling her toes (that she surely no longer had) to capture the strands of what felt like a fluffy rug. Scrubbing her soles back and forth, she enjoyed the sensation of the softness against her bare feet.

Finally, she plucked at the winter-weight pyjamas that someone had dressed her in. Pinching at the thick, comfortable cloth, she felt her thigh beneath … and her thigh registered the pressure of her fingers.

Then she opened her eyes and looked to see if her sense of touch had been deceiving her. If this was the case, then her eyes were being similarly hoodwinked. Her legs, clad in flannel pyjama pants adorned with images of a red and gold dragon in flight, did indeed protrude over the side of the bed—definitely a four-poster—and her bare toes were absolutely entwined in some kind of fluffy rug.

I have to be still dreaming, she decided. It's the only explanation.

With that in mind, she stood up, wondering at the sensation of pressure against the soles of her feet in … how long had it been since she'd last walked normally as a human? Months? A year? Far too long, anyway. It seemed both too easy and too hard. She felt she should be either falling flat on her face or walking without effort, but her progress was somewhere in between; a little difficult, but manageable all the same.

There was a window on the far side of the room, letting out into the open air. She made the trek without more than a stumble or two, though the bare flagstones were chilly under her feet. Leaning on the sill, she looked out … and gasped with wonder.

Before her stretched a panorama of sublime beauty. The building she was in, almost certainly a castle from its all-stone construction, was perched atop a large hill or small mountain, clad in green pine trees and sloping away to the plains that stretched far out to the horizon. She could pick out what she suspected were villages here and there, within the intricate patchwork of cultivated fields.

Overhead, the dome of the sky was a brilliant, almost eye-hurting blue, with sunlight slanting in from the left, though the solar orb was just out of her sight. The moon was also in the sky, though her awareness of this being a dream returned as she was easily able to pick out an impossible ring around it, like Saturn in miniature.

And then a flock of dragons flew past. Not large ones, as she'd always imagined them to be, but about eighteen inches to two feet long and brilliantly coloured, no two the same. A couple turned their heads and chirped agreeably, then they were gone again.

"Whoa," she murmured, leaning on the sill, her knees suddenly weak. That encounter had been far too real; she'd been able to pick out the sunlight glinting off the tiny, perfect scales, the multiple needle-sharp teeth in their jaws, even the fact that they were terminally cute.

Turning away from the window, she leaned back on the wall beside the frame, breathing deeply. For something purporting to be a dream, it was feeling more and more real by the second. Dreams were primarily visual and audible in nature; smells led to visuals of food, and dream-touch was unreliable at best. Yet she could still feel the texture of the stone floor under her feet, and the grain in the wood of the window frame. Likewise, even though she wasn't facing the window anymore, she could smell the pure, crisp mountain air.

Is this a dream or isn't it? The evidence of her eyes told her it was; everything else she could sense had another opinion on the matter. Maybe I'm hallucinating. She'd never done any drugs stronger than weed or alcohol, and those only in moderation, so she only had the vaguest idea what a trip was like.

She leaned out the window again to have another look at the ringed moon—that shouldn't be possible, at all—then turned to survey the room for anything else out of the ordinary. All she found was a dresser with a serviceable-looking chair in front of it, and a wardrobe; all on the far side of the bed that she'd gotten up from. Beside the dresser was a heavy-looking wooden door, currently closed.

You are in a maze of winding passages, all alike … She shook her head, dispelling the memory. There was something on the chair; from where she was, it looked almost like folded clothing. She'd never seriously attended a Renfaire, though she and Krouse had talked about it a few times. What sort of clothing would whoever had left her in a four-poster bed expect her to wear?

The fact that they'd also left her in extremely comfortable flannel pyjamas was another data point that she couldn't quite mesh with the rest.

Heading over to the chair, she found herself stepping onto another soft, warm rug, twice as welcome now that she'd spent a little time standing on the cold stone floor. On the chair were … well, a T-shirt and jeans, along with modern-looking underwear, including socks. Under the chair, she found a very ordinary pair of sneakers. Ordinary for Earth Aleph, that is, back before this whole horrific odyssey had begun. Not so ordinary for wherever and whenever this place was.

She was just about to start changing into the new clothing when she spotted the note resting on the dresser. It appeared to be inscribed on actual, real parchment with (if she wasn't much mistaken) a genuine quill pen. While the clothing was anachronistic, the note was right on point for the bedroom and (for that matter) the entire castle. Carefully, she picked it up and read it. Although inscribed with slightly archaic lettering, it was in perfectly calligraphed—and readable—English.

My dear Miss Meinhardt,

I hope this missive finds you well. Clothing has been left out for you that I believe suits the style for your local version of civilisation. However, should you wish to dress in a more (or less) formal manner, other options may be found within the wardrobe.

Once you are ready to leave the room, merely open the door and my loyal Snek will attend to your needs. I await your arrival, as you will surely have questions.

Yours,

The Master of the Castle

PS: I would not advise using the wardrobe to seek a different fantastical world. I have taken care to block all such realms from intruding upon my Castle.

PPS: When you meet Snek, try not to overburden him with questions. He possesses a simple soul and a large heart.

PPPS: Yes, this is indeed real. I await your company.

Click to shrink...

Noelle read the note through twice more before putting it down again. About to reach for the clothing on the chair, she paused. "Other options?" she asked herself out loud. "Okay, this I have to see."

The heavy door to the wardrobe looked as though it should creak menacingly as she opened it, but it made not a sound. Suspended on a mannequin dangling from an overhead track was a silken kimono, the pattern showing a great serpent winding around large hills and through small villages. It looked very cool indeed, but Noelle wanted to see what else there was, so she gave the mannequin a sideways push.

It rumbled sideways on the track, and another one came into view. This one sported a classic little black dress of the type worn by women determined to get out on the town and have fun, dammit!

Noelle snorted and shook her head. Whoever this guy was, showing off her brand-new legs wasn't likely to change his opinion of her. She pushed the dress aside; the mannequin rumbled on the track, and a full-on floofy princess dress came into view, complete with diamonds and seed pearls sewn into the fabric. Two things occurred to her at this point; first, the wardrobe, which appeared to be a free-standing structure, was in no way capable of containing everything she'd seen in it so far, and second, whoever had commissioned that dress in her size (because it damn well looked like it) either had more money than God, or didn't need money at all.

While she absolutely wanted to be wearing that dress when she saw Krouse next, just to watch his jaw bounce off the floor a few times, it wasn't in her plans to put it on right now. So she shoved the mannequin aside, then kept them moving, almost as though she were flipping through a catalogue.

Business suit … cocktail dress … bikini … chainmail bikini, complete with shortsword and light helmet … flamenco dress … ballerina outfit … pirate outfit, smelling faintly of the ocean … classic ninja outfit (okay, now she knew the guy had to be messing with her) … full articulated plate armour, complete with heavy sword … an odd outfit, made of sturdy leathers, with a pair of brass-framed goggles hanging around the neck …

Sitting back on the bed, she shook her head. The choices seemed endless, and she'd been absolutely correct; there was no way that wardrobe was a simple wooden box on legs. While the letter had removed the possibility of a Narnia-style effect, it was probably still a lot bigger on the inside.

She wondered if her gaming background was the reason that she wasn't losing her mind right about now. Her time playing Ransack, and other games before that, had accustomed her to the weird and wonderful. She could accept the idea of a wizard casting a spell, or tiny dragons flying past the window of a castle, without immediately jumping straight to "that's impossible and I refuse to believe it". An improbably large closet didn't even need that; anyone who'd watched Doctor Who before it went off the air was familiar with that concept.

The plate armour beckoned to her, as did the chainmail bikini, for entirely different reasons (Krouse's expression would be amazing if she showed up in that) but in the end she made another choice altogether.

There was room under the leathers for the jeans and T-shirt, so she donned those first, but she left the socks and shoes behind. The leather outfit had knee-length thick socks which clung to her legs like a second skin; tiny brass clips at the top made sure they'd stay up. After the rest of the outfit went on—she had to figure it out as she went along, but the snaps, clips and clasps were relatively easy to figure out—she pulled the boots on, admiring the textured leather and the subtle dyes that had been worked into it. They had a moderate heel to them, with a thick base; she approved.

Pulling the goggles on, but leaving them up on her forehead, she admired herself in the mirror over the dresser. "Damn," she muttered. "I look badass." The person she saw in the mirror looked like she was preparing to jump feet-first into an epic adventure.

Her self-esteem boosted considerably, she headed for the door. Pulling on the handle, she heard the lock-tongue sliding out of its slot, then the door opened. Again, it entirely failed to creak either menacingly or eerily; it simply opened, as smoothly as silk.

The corridor beyond was well-lit, by torches in sconces along the walls. They burned steadily with a purple flame, but Noelle chose to ignore that. She'd seen far weirder things in the last five minutes. However, the corridor was also empty, for dozens of yards in both directions.

"Hello?" she called out, looking to the left and then to the right. "Huh," she mused, rubbing her chin. "So much for—"

"Hello, not-monsster No-Elle." The voice—hissing and very familiar—came from right behind her. "Ssnek iss here to help you."

Noelle froze. There'd been nothing behind her, just seconds before. Slowly, she turned, and came face to (extremely large) snout with the biggest damn snake she'd ever seen. While it didn't fill the corridor completely, it certainly went a long way toward doing so. It regarded her in return with what she could only read as a polite and curious expression.

Also, it was wearing a normal-sized fedora in the middle of its head.

"S-Snek?" she asked, wanting to facepalm. The Master of the Castle said its name was Snek. What else would it be other than a damn great snake?

"Yess, not-monsster No-Elle," the snake said, its hissing accent more apparent on the sibilants. "Ssnek iss Ssnek. Masster hass ssent Ssnek to help you. Iss not-monsster No-Elle hungry?"

"Oh. Right." She was still getting around its odd name for her. 'Not-monster Noelle', indeed. At the word 'hungry', her stomach woke up and rumbled. "Uh, maybe? A little?" Maybe it could show her where the kitchens were.

"Ssnek hass food." The capacious mouth opened, showing a truly impressive display of fangs, ranging from the length of her little finger to as long as her arm, and all needle-pointed. From out of the back of the throat extended a weird tongue-like affair, multibranched and clearly used as a grasping appendage. It was holding a wooden bowl of fruit; an apple, a neatly-quartered orange, a banana and a bunch of grapes.

"Uhh, thank you … Snek." She accepted the bowl, noting that it was entirely dry, not slimy with saliva as she would've expected it to be.

"Not-monsster No-Elle iss welcome." Releasing the bowl, the tongue retreated into the snake's enormous mouth, which in turn closed. "Ssnek keep many thingss in not-eat placce."

Okay, so the giant talking snake has a bag of holding in its throat. Good to know.

Balancing the bowl on one arm, she took the banana and peeled it, then ate it. The apple went next, each bite assuaging the rumbling in the pit of her stomach. She finished off the orange and grapes a little more slowly, enjoying every bite. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd last had something so good, but it certainly wasn't recently.

"Okay, wow. That was amazing," she said, dropping the empty grape stalks back in the bowl. "Thanks again, Snek. You do a very nice breakfast."

"Ssnek iss happy not-monsster No-Elle iss happy," Snek replied, sticking his tongue out to take the bowl. "Ssnek take not-monsster No-Elle to Masster now?"

Noelle handed it over. "Uh, sure. Oh, and you can just call me Noelle, you know. If you want."

"Ssnek ussess what Masster callss desscriptor for new friendss. Funny hat man ssaid No-Elle wass not monsster, so not-monsster No-Elle." The snake poised itself, then made a fast diving swoop with its head that left Noelle sitting astride its neck before she really knew it. "Not-monsster No-Elle hold on."

Instinctively, Noelle tightened her grip with her legs as the snake started down the corridor, but her attention was elsewhere. "Funny hat? You mean Krouse? Uh, Trickster? What happened to him, and the others?"

One enormous eye rolled up to look at her. "Ssnek not know. Left all alive. Not-monsster No-Elle need help, sso brought to Masster."

Wait, holy shit. That means it wasn't—

Snek poised himself, then a portal formed in front of his head. He lunged through in a blur of motion, carrying Noelle with him, and came out in another corridor, with a large, imposing door in front of them.

—a dream after all. This is real.

Carefully, Snek bumped the door three times with his snout. He seemed to be counting under his breath as he did so; Noelle wasn't sure why.

"Come in, Snek," a masculine voice called. "And Miss Meinhardt, welcome to my Castle."

Noelle watched as Snek reached out with his tongue and opened the door, then they slithered through. Snek came to a halt, allowing her to climb off his neck and look around.

Standing before her was the man she'd glimpsed in what she'd thought were dreams. Though his beard was long and gray, he was tall and imposing. If nothing else, he looked like her own personal mental image of Gandalf. Aiding and abetting this impression was the gnarled wooden staff free-standing beside him. But if he was a mage, what he was standing in was most definitely a mage's workshop. In all directions were workbenches with any number of strange contraptions ticking (or bubbling) away. Overhead, hanging from the ceiling, was a taxidermied dragon, if she'd ever seen one.

But she was being rude, and that was the very last impression she wanted to give right now. "Uh … thank you for … everything?" she managed. "Did I … am I … did you … is this really real?"

"Yes." He inclined his head briefly. "You were in a rather poor state when I brought you and Snek across from that unfortunate world which you occupy. It took me almost an hour to determine how to free you from the creature that was sharing your body without killing you in the process. However, I learned several useful things along the way, so it was a fruitful endeavour on both sides. How are you feeling in the aftermath?"

She smiled automatically, though her mind was whirling from the implications of his matter-of-fact speech. He figured out how to cure me in less than an hour. Who is this guy? "Uh … I'm feeling great. Having legs again is amazing. So … I'm free free? It won't happen again?"

His smile was kindly, if a little acerbic. "Just so long as you can restrain yourself from imbibing potions of unknown veracity, I believe that is the case, yes. You are entirely cured of the powers with which you were cursed. The question is: what do you wish to do with yourself now?"

"Uh …" She tried to nail down her racing thoughts. "Before I make any decisions, what's happened to Krouse? I mean, my boyfriend, Francis. He and his friends … my friends … I don't know where they are."

He nodded to acknowledge the question. "Your paramour and other companions are alive and well, albeit in the custody of the Parahuman Response Teams. Mr. Krouse is worried about you."

"Can you put me in contact with him?" She was pleased Krouse was thinking of her, but less happy about the whole situation. "I want to let him know I'm okay."

"That can be achieved with a simple sending, if you wish." He raised a shaggy eyebrow. "Your options are as follows: first, I can bring them all here, remove their powers, and allow you to make your way in my world. You will find it to be not unlike the game you once played together. I notice you have already found the dragon-riding leathers."

That derailed Noelle's train of thought altogether. She stared down at the leathers, the possibilities exploding in her mind. Dragon-riding? I can ride dragons?

"Second," he continued. "I can send you back into that world, unpowered, to do as you wish. Third, I can remove them from their imprisonment and move you all to your original world. Once more, to do as you wish. The choice is yours."

Well, damn. If she'd been asked that question a day ago, the answer would've been simple: go back home to Aleph.

Now … it was anything but.

What do I do?



End of Part Seven

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Eight: Snek Helps!

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal].


Noelle ran her hands through her hair … which, now that she came to think of it, felt like it had been shampooed and conditioned into the most gorgeous softness and fluffiness, far different from the results of the crappy low-end products Krouse had been able to acquire for her up until now (and it wasn't as though she'd had access to a shower she could actually fit into for some time).

"Before I make this decision, can I ask a few questions?" She had a lot of questions for him, but not all of them related to where she should go.

"You may." The Master of the Castle gave her a nod that was in equal parts approving and reassuring. "I would prefer that you make this decision with all the information available to you."

"Uh, okay." All the questions crowded the forefront of her mind, and she picked one out of the crush. "Do we all have to do the same thing? I mean, what if some of us want to stay on Bet, some want to stay here, and some what to go back to Aleph?"

"Then you will go where you choose," he said, confirming her assumption. "Snek may check in on you from time to time, but unless you seek aid from him, I will initiate no further contact with you."

"Right, um …" She tried to think of another pertinent question. Snek bumped his head up alongside her thigh, and she absent-mindedly skritched him behind where his ear would be. "This might sound weird, but since I woke up, I've felt better than I have in literally months. Is this just because you gave me my legs back, or what's the deal with that?"

"Ah, yes." He gestured and a totally lifelike—if only eighteen inches tall—image of the Simurgh appeared between them. "This creature had impressed upon you and your comrades a series of compulsions driving you toward actions that would result in unpleasant repercussions within your world. I removed those compulsions as a matter of course. And yes, I will do the same with your comrades, should they choose to be healed with my magics."

Despite knowing that it wasn't real, Noelle recoiled half a step. "I-I was … we were all … Simurgh bombs?" Closing her eyes, she ran her hands through her hair again. "And you can just take that away again?"

Snek rubbed his head against her leg again. "Masster iss very wisse."

She gave the gigantic snake another scratch. He seemed to enjoy it. "So I'm gathering." Looking up at the Master of the Castle again, she voiced another question. "One of my friends, Jess, is in a wheelchair. If you fixed my legs, you can fix that, right?"

"He won't need to. I can handle that bit." A girl of about twelve or thirteen, with brass-bound goggles similar to those Noelle had acquired pushed up onto her forehead, along with leather apron and gloves over what looked like perfectly ordinary t-shirt and jeans, strolled out of another part of the workshop. "Hi, I'm Riley. I'm the one who shampooed your hair last night. Boy, did you need it." Coming over to where Noelle stood with Snek, she casually booped the enormous reptile's snout with her fist, then offered her hand to shake.

"Hi." Noelle shook the girl's hand, not entirely sure what was going on. "Noelle. Are you, uh, from around here?"

"Hah, no." Riley gestured toward the Master, who was watching them with interest. "The boss there fixed me up after Snek rescued me from a situation that was about on par with yours. I chose to stick around and help out afterward, because who'd go back to that dumpster fire when all this was a choice, right?"

"Mmm." Noelle found Riley's comments resonating with her thoughts, but she did her best to keep her options open. "Um, another question. Does dragon riding really happen? Because if that one up there is an adult dragon, I'm thinking it might be a little small to be ridden." Looking up, she gestured at the red-and-gold winged reptilian form on display. While larger than the tiny dragons that had flown past her window, it was still only about twenty feet long.

"A cogent question." The Master's tone was approving. "Riley, would you and Snek like to show Noelle the dragons, and explain the situation? I will be here, in the event of any more questions that require answering."

"Sure!" Riley eagerly scrambled up on Snek's back, where Noelle had been sitting before. "C'mon, get on."

"Okay, then …" It seemed that riding a giant snake was the least weird new experience she was going to have today. Climbing on to Snek's back, she settled herself into place behind Riley. "So, are we going through one of those portals? That was trippy."

"Not insside Masster'ss worksshop," Snek said as he turned and wriggled to the door. That weird multibranched tongue turned the handle, and they slithered out into the corridor. "Masster doess not like wriggle-hole in worksshop. Bad thingss happen."

"Um, okay?" Noelle said uncertainly. "What bad things?"

"Oh, the boss does a lot of interdimensional stuff," Riley said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Snek's portals have a chance of interfering with that. That's why we use the door—whee!"

The exclamation at the end came because Snek had somehow closed the door with his tail, then opened one of those portals. There was a moment of extreme acceleration, then Noelle found herself blinking around at a sunlit vista.

"… whoa," she whispered.

She was still on the mountain; that much was abundantly clear. To one side was the panorama she'd witnessed before from her window, or something remarkably similar to it. But underfoot, it looked as though someone had sliced into the side of the mountain with an unimaginably huge blade, leaving a perfectly flat cut. Then they'd repeated the action, but downward from above, creating a plateau measuring several acres in area, next to a sheer cliff that stretched upward toward the summit far above. More unsettlingly, the cut surfaces had apparently been polished, so she could clearly see the strata that had been left behind.

But that wasn't all of it. It wasn't even close to being all of what had Noelle's heart rate accelerating.

Toward the far end of the flat area, next to neatly carved holes that led into the cliff-face itself, were several dragons. Far larger than the taxidermized specimen in the Master's workshop, with gloriously patterned scales that glittered and gleamed in the sunlight, they appeared for all the world to have been sunning themselves on the rocky surface. Now, they were shifting and turning as heads raised to survey Riley and Noelle.

Dragons. Real dragons. Gorgeous dragons.

"Um …" she began. Are we supposed to run, or stand still, or tell them to 'sit' …?

"Don't worry, they're friendly," Riley assured her. "The nasty ones are the drakes." She paused, glancing up at Noelle. "You don't know? Oh, okay. There's three types of dragon. These ones here are true dragons. They're smart and friendly, and they were bred to take riders. Then there's the hearth-dragons, the cute little ones. They're playful and fun to have around, and they keep the rats down. Not too smart, but they can be trained. And then there's the drakes, like the ones in the workshop. They don't like people, except as food. The boss keeps those ones down in the southern continent, kind of like Bet's Australia and New Zealand added together."

"Ssnek like drakess," Snek added. "Fun to hunt."

Noelle could hear the eye-roll in Riley's voice. "Everything's fun for you to hunt, Snek, because you hunt everything."

"Iss not true," objected Snek. "Ssnek not hunt good people."

"Okay, yeah, you've got a point." Riley slid off Snek's back. "So, Noelle, want to meet them? I can introduce you, if you like. They like meeting new people, especially from different places."

"I … uh …" Before Noelle could talk herself out of it, she was on her feet alongside Riley. After all, how many people got to meet a real live dragon?

As they walked closer, the few dragons who had not been aware of them were nudged, and all of them began to get up. Catlike, they stretched and yawned; scaly spines curved and wings unfurled to quite startling lengths as toothy jaws opened wide. She could see their muscles moving, the power inherent in their great bodies almost palpable even at a distance.

Still, something was bothering her. "What do you mean, 'bred' to take riders?" She wasn't sure if she was comfortable with the idea of taking advantage of an intelligent slave. In fact, she knew she wasn't.

The question didn't faze Riley. "These guys, all dragons, are native to a world where they were bred by the local population for riding, for entertainment, for fighting. But there was a war. When the boss found them a few thousand years ago, they'd killed each other off. Their surviving dragons had starved to death. But he found a few eggs here and there, buried and hidden under ice, and salvaged them. He hatched them out and took away all the slave impulses, but left the true dragons so they could take riders if they wanted. Most true dragons have their own communities in the mountains, but a few hang out near humans, because they think we're cute."

||Well, you are cute.|| The mental 'voice', deep and resonant, came as a severe surprise to Noelle, and she looked around. Two of the dragons had come their way, and were now basically looming over them. Somehow, she got the impression it was the foremost one, splendid in green and gold, who had 'spoken'.

||Who's your friend, Riley?|| asked the other one, patterned in red and silver. ||We haven't seen her around here before.||

"This is Noelle, guys." Riley grinned up at them. "She's new here. Still deciding if she wants to stay."

"Ssnek found not-monsster Noelle, brought to Masster to fix," Snek announced proudly.

The attention of the dragons, gazing at her from eyes almost as bejewelled as their bright-coloured scales, sharpened somewhat. ||'Not-monster Noelle'?|| asked the green and gold dragon. ||I would wager there is a story behind that name.||

"There sure is, but I'm totally forgetting my manners." Riley pointed at the green and gold dragon. "Noelle, meet Cirrus. And this is his mate Finesse. Those are the names we get to use anyway. They just use mental impressions between themselves."

"Uh, hi." Noelle essayed a tiny wave. "I just want to say, you both look amazing. You all look amazing. And I'm really pleased to meet you."

Cirrus turned to Finesse. ||Did you hear that, dearest? She said I look amazing.|| Flexing one wing, he preened.

Finesse rolled her eyes, which on a dragon was quite an expressive gesture. ||She said we all look amazing, you conceited lizard.|| She turned her attention back to Noelle, sweeping her head down low until they were almost eye to eye. ||But I could not help noticing that you are wearing riding leathers. Are you perhaps seeking a riding partner?||

||What? No! I saw her first!|| protested Cirrus.

"Whoa, guys, guys," Riley said, waving her hands to get their attention. "She's new here, and she's never ridden a dragon before. Don't scare her off, okay?"

||I am the gentlest flyer of this Dragonmark,|| Finesse stated loftily. ||Ask anyone.||

"Well, this is true," agreed Riley, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. She ignored Finesse poking her tongue out at Cirrus, and turned to Noelle. "So, what do you say? Let Finesse take you up until you're used to it, and then take a spin with Cirrus?" Leaning in close, she whispered behind her hand, "He'll sulk for days otherwise, and he's a total pain if he gets that way."

||You know I can still hear you,|| Cirrus stated. ||And I do not sulk.||

Noelle blinked. She'd seen many strange sights in her life to date, especially since getting powers, but a pouting dragon would have to be near the top of the list.

"I, uh, that sounds cool," she said. Meanwhile, her inner self was running around in circles, madly throwing confetti in the air. I'm gonna ride a dragon! I'm gonna ride a dragon! "Do I need to do anything to prepare?"

||No, dear one,|| Finesse said warmly, crouching even lower until her long neck was invitingly next to Noelle. ||If you can climb up just in front of my shoulders, you should find a comfortable spot. My scales will provide ample handholds.||

As if in a dream, Noelle did as she was directed. The boots had a gripping sole that gave her a good purchase on the side of the dragon's neck, and before she knew it, she was seated astride. Almost immediately, she grasped what Riley had meant about them being bred for riding; there was subtle but noticeable contouring that afforded her a comfortable seat and room to clamp her legs into place.

There was no bridle, nor reins to hang on to, but she suspected such things would be superfluous at best and offensive at worst. A bump in the spine covered in rough scales offered her a handgrip of sorts, and she grasped it.

||Are you ready?|| Finesse turned her head so that Noelle could see the immense eye regarding her in return. ||I will fly gently. Call out if you are in distress.||

"I-I'm ready," she managed. "Let's do this." Some small part of her cynically observed that even if she was terrified (she wasn't, not really, just nervous) she'd still go through with it, because if riding a damn dragon wasn't on the top of every gamer's bucket list, it should be.

||Here … we … go …!|| Rather than take off vertically—which Noelle suspected they were perfectly capable of doing—Finesse trotted toward the drop-off, wings spreading dramatically outward. They had looked tremendously wide before, but now that she was more or less between them, Noelle had the impression of sitting atop a circus tent. Dragons, she noted absently, had a much wider wingspan than a 747.

And then they were over the edge, but not falling exactly. Finesse, perhaps showing why she preferred the name, had brought her wings down at precisely the right moment, so they transitioned from ground movement to air movement with hardly a jolt. Noelle saw the ground falling away below her—far below her—and redoubled her grip, but all that came out of her throat was a squeak of excitement.

The great wings beat again, and then again, and they were flying. Soaring. As they circled in the sunlight, Noelle looked over at the mountain they had just left, with the castle built into the side and the large area carved away for the dragons. Riley was just a speck in the distance, and Snek a tiny wavy line.

A flapping noise distracted her, and she looked around just as a flock of the tiny iridescent dragons she'd seen earlier flew closer, matching speed with the much larger creature. "Oh, wow," she said. "What are those ones called, again?"

||You mean the hearth-dragons?|| Finesse's mental voice was warm and pleasant. ||They love to fly with us, and we with them.||

Noelle watched the smaller dragons performing loops and barrel rolls, and showing off for each other and for Finesse. "I can see why." One came swooping in and landed on Finesse's neck, right in front of her, and let out a sound partway between a chirp and a squawk. There were no words involved, but Noelle got the message and ran her nails up under its jaw. It burbled happily and rubbed its snout against her arm.

||So, do you enjoy flying, Noelle?|| asked Finesse.

Noelle looked down at the ground far below, which no longer held terrors for her. Beneath her, the dragon flew on steadily, while the accompanying hearth-dragons chirped to each other and to the one she was petting.

"Oh, yeah," she said, euphoria filling every syllable. "Definitely."

I could do this for the rest of my life.

<><>​

She was still walking on air as she travelled back with Riley to the Master's workshop. Snek went through the ritual of knocking three times on the door; as expected, the Master called out, "Enter!"

Snek opened the door and slithered inside, and Noelle climbed off. Her legs were a little shaky from squeezing with her thigh muscles for so long, especially since those same muscles were brand new, but she had no trouble standing.

The Master of the Castle looked her over. "Have you made up your mind what you want to do, Noelle Meinhardt of Earth Aleph?"

"I have, yes," she agreed. "But I'm going to need to talk to each of them so I can let them know what the options are. Also, there's one other problem."

"Your former comrade," the Master agreed. He raised one eyebrow. "Some might say that he brought his troubles upon himself."

"Yeah, true." Noelle frowned. "But he wouldn't have been in this whole mess without me. I kinda feel like I owe him to get him out of it if I can. Also, he probably wouldn't have done what he did without the Simurgh, and to let him take that fall just isn't fair."

"Hmm." The Master's lips twitched. "Do not necessarily attribute to outside influence behaviour which can be explained as pure obstinance or personal malice."

Noelle sighed. "Yeah, I know. But can we save him from wherever Accord sent him anyway? I mean, if he's even alive?" A chill ran through her as she realised that she'd never even spared a thought to the possibility that the diminutive crime lord may well have had him executed out of hand, as he'd wanted to do with Mars.

"He is indeed still in the land of the living. The Chinese Union-Imperial have inducted him into their Yàngbǎn. Unfortunately, he is not thriving there. Because he knows no conversational Chinese, they are shunning him and refusing to teach him the very language that would allow him to socialise with them." The Master gestured once more, giving her a picture of Cody, wearing a strange uniform, moving in concert with others. A faint shout came to her ears, and they all moved again; raising their hands, they shot fire out of the palms. "On the other side of the coin, he can do no harm where he is, either to you or your friends. What is your choice?"

"I want to talk to him, when it wouldn't draw attention," she said. "He might actually want to stay, and I don't want to get him into trouble. When does he get some downtime?"

"He does not," the Master informed her. "He will train for six hours and attend mandatory lectures for another twelve. There will be forty-five minutes for eating purposes, and five hours for sleep. His next sleep period begins in just over two hours. If you wish to ensure he does not suffer punitive action for speaking to you, that is your chance."

"Wow," Riley said, shaking her head in disgust. "That sounds horrible, and I know what I'm talking about."

Noelle considered asking to speak to Cody immediately. From the description of his situation, he was in the shittiest of shitty situations. Screw it, she told herself. Rescue first, talk later. "Can we just get him out of there, and then I'll talk to him?"

"That is entirely possible." The Master of the Castle turned to Snek, and indicated the image of Cody. "Bring that young man to me, please."

"Ssnek will do that, Masster." Turning, the snake slithered from the room. He closed the door behind him with a flick of the tail, but Noelle was concentrating on the image.

In the next instant, any doubts she may have had about it being a real-time picture were dispelled, as utter confusion overtook the class. Students were barrelled this way and that as Snek emerged from his trademark portal and lunged at Cody, jaws agape to show off his impressive dentition. Just as Snek's mouth closed on Cody's midsection, several of the larger fangs folded back into Snek's jaw; then he kept going, and dived into another portal.

Noelle didn't speak any Chinese at all, but she was fairly sure that she'd just learned the closest equivalent to 'where the fuck did that giant snake come from' that she'd ever hear. People dressed in different uniforms—instructors, she guessed—were still staring at Snek's path of confusion when she heard the three knocks on the laboratory door.

"Come in, Snek," called the Master, dispelling the image. "And bring our involuntary guest with you, if you don't mind."

The door opened, and Snek wriggled in, looking very pleased with himself. Trapped in the immense jaws, looking like a terminally confused mouse, Cody stared in all directions. "What the hell?" he demanded. "What's going on here? Where am I? Who—wait, Noelle? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Everyone, this is Cody. Cody, important introductions. This is the Master of the Castle, that's Riley, and you've already met Snek. Snek is a very good boy." She briefly considered allowing Cody to remain where he was for a while longer—he'd caused them all sorts of problems, back in the day—then decided that would be beneath her. "Snek, could you please put him down?"

"Yess, not-monsster Noelle," Snek said, and deposited Cody on the floor in an ungraceful heap. "Wass fun resscue. Many people sshouting."

Noelle had already suspected Snek of possessing a sense of humour; for her, that confirmed it. He loved causing chaos.

Putting that knowledge aside, she stepped forward. "Okay, Cody, so this is the deal …"



End of Part Eight

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Nine: Together Again

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal].

Noelle

"Okay," said Cody. "So … I have a question."

He was looking at Noelle instead of the Master of the Castle, who was giving them space to talk, so she nodded. "Sure, what is it?"

"Now, don't freak. Hear me out." He spread his hands, palm up. "You said Krouse and the rest are in PRT custody, right?"

"Right." She said it guardedly. "What's your point?"

"My point is …" he paused, apparently trying to think of how to phrase it, "… why don't we just … well … leave them there?"

She blinked solidly, going back over what he'd said, trying to wring another meaning from his words. "You have to be kidding. Why would I ever agree to that?"

"Listen. Listen, listen, listen." He was in full wheedling mode. She recalled a time when it had worked on her. Too much had happened since then for it to have any sort of effect now. "Ever since Krouse joined our group, things have gone to shit. Name one good thing that's happened to us."

She stared him down. "Now you're pushing it. The Simurgh, that wasn't Krouse. We were Simurgh bombs from then on, so all the arguing …" Recalling the words of the Master of the Castle, she amended her words. "… okay, most of the arguing was down to that."

"Krouse gave you that shitty formula." He grinned as he said it, evidently sure he'd scored a winning point.

"The Simurgh made him find it," Noelle countered. "She made sure we'd drink the ones we did. She wanted me to be a monster. Everything after the Simurgh, us becoming the Travellers, was basically down to her." She pointed at Cody. "But you were the one who nearly got Mars killed by Accord."

From the expression on his face, he knew he was on the back foot now. "That was the Simurgh, too," he protested. "You said it yourself. And anyway, the guys have all committed crimes. The PRT will put them in jail, they'll break out and go their own way. Meanwhile, you and me …"

She shook her head. "No. Krouse has stuck by me through thick and thin. Yeah, I know it was the Simurgh's influence that probably caused you to mess up all those times, but I was with Krouse before we ever came to Bet."

"So why am I even here?" asked Cody. "I thought we had something."

"We did, once," she agreed. "But not anymore. I asked for you to be rescued because you were once my teammate, and I'm hoping we can still be at least friends. But the others get a choice as well."

"Well spoken, Miss Meinhardt," said the Master of the Castle approvingly. "Snek, if you can retrieve the other members of her group, please?"

"Yess, Masster," the massive snake agreed at once. "Ssnek will do that." Turning, it wriggled out through the door, which closed behind it.

"Is it just me," murmured Cody, "or does that thing get creepier every time you hear it talk?"

Noelle stared at him, absolutely certain that the Master of the Castle had just heard his words. "No!" she protested. "And you're a horrible person for even thinking that! Snek is a perfect gentleman!"

Cody made an abortive gesture, then blinked. "Crap," he muttered. "What happened to—?"

"Your temporal rewind powers?" The Master of the Castle's smile was wintry. "They are currently in abeyance. And I will thank you to be more polite in general. This castle possesses an abundance of both dragons and dungeons." Though his tone was light, there was steel beneath it.

Cody gulped.

<><>​

Regional Director Emily Piggot

PRT ENE

Emily relaxed in her chair, looking over the morning reports. Nothing drastic had happened overnight, which she decided to chalk up to a minor miracle. The day before had been impressively chaotic, or chaotically impressive, whichever way she wanted to describe it.

Not only was Coil in captivity, but he was also Thomas Calvert, which explained so many things that had been going wrong since he'd slimed his way back into the PRT from being a mere civilian advisor. Also, the Travellers were under lock and key (all except for the semi-mythical monster that had reputedly been accompanying them) and finally Tattletale was spilling the beans about Coil, just as fast as she could manage it.

This situation was not without its complications. She'd had to call in extra manpower from everywhere to cover for every person with whom Calvert had had even a tangential part in placing within the building. And that didn't include those who had been cleared by his stooges, all of whom were now also under intensive investigation. Tattletale had (somewhat unexpectedly) been of assistance here, willingly pointing out the ones she claimed to be his moles. Emily wasn't so gullible as to take these assertions at face value, or to immediately clear the ones Tattletale said were fine, but she was happy to use said assertions as a data point for or against.

As part of this, she'd automatically assumed the PRT building's computer system was compromised—if she knew Calvert, it was the first thing he would've done—so she had IT guys with suitable clearance going through it with the electronic equivalent of a fine-toothed comb, snagging out the bits and pieces that should not be there. So far, they weren't even half done, and they'd already found enough evidence of tampering to make her consider raising their salaries. She also wanted to tear her hair out, but she could do that later.

What to do with Tattletale after the dust had settled was another matter. The girl clearly did not want to go anywhere near juvenile detention, and Emily could see why. With the smart mouth on her, it was a fifty-fifty crapshoot as to whether she'd be running the place or losing all her teeth inside the first month.

Pulling a Shadow Stalker and inducting her into the Wards was a second option, one which Emily was starting to reluctantly lean toward. She clearly had zero loyalty toward her ex-boss (considering the means of her recruitment, Emily was hardly surprised) and was working hard at projecting an image of a helpful, cooperative, potentially law-abiding, useful teenage parahuman. Not all of which Emily actually trusted, but it was a good start.

Armsmaster had of course ferreted out the girl's real identity and spoken to her regarding her family; the response he got back about informing them about any of this had been a solid nope. Which, given that Tattletale was over sixteen and currently of sound body and mind, meant that Emily didn't have to if she didn't want to. And she really didn't. People who could cause their daughter to trigger from emotional stress did not fit her view of suitable parents in any shape or form, ever.

She still had to make her final decision, and of course the girl would have to pick a costume far different from that skin-tight purple monstrosity, but—

A triple knock resounded through her office; not from her main office door, but the one leading to her ensuite. Which she knew for a fact was empty, since she'd used the facilities not twenty minutes beforehand. There was no connecting door anywhere else, and even the air ducts were only three inches square and trapped with electrified monowire, so the chance of someone sneaking in there from somewhere else in the building was vanishingly small.

Her hand slid down into the foot-well of her desk, where her service pistol resided in a holster clamped to the solid wood. Carefully, she eased the firearm from its place, the weight of the cold metal comforting to her hand. Her other hand took hold of the duress button under the edge of the desk, ready to jam it to its stop if this went bad.

The knock came again, but it wasn't a sharp rapping; more of a boomp-boomp-boomp, as if someone were thumping their knee against the door. "Hello?" she called out warily. "Is there someone in there?"

"Ssnek iss Ssnek. May Ssnek come in?"

She froze. The voice was eminently recognisable from the recordings she'd listened to, time and again. If it didn't belong to the giant snake that had been occasionally seen around Brockton Bay (and, she reminded herself, had been instrumental in Coil's downfall) then it was the best imitation of it she'd heard yet. Which still didn't rule out an amazingly ill-advised prank, merely reduced the chances of it.

Best to hedge her bets. "If this is Assault, I swear I will have you scrubbing every latrine in the building with your toothbrush." After you show me how you pulled this off.

The voice came back. "Ssnek iss not Asssault. Ssnek iss Ssnek. May Ssnek come in?"

She pulled the duress button—more of a sliding toggle—back to the first click. This alerted the security station to the fact that something was going on, and gave them video and audio to her office, but let them know she was handling the situation at the moment. Almost as an afterthought, she thumbed back the hammer on her pistol. "Come ahead."

The door handle clicked, then the door swung inward. And out through the doorway slithered the giant fucking snake, or at least a dozen feet of it. Emily had no fucking idea where the rest of it was; there literally was no room in the ensuite for fifty feet of horror-movie reptile.

Also, it wore a regular-sized fedora in the middle of its broad head. What that was about, Emily couldn't even begin to imagine.

It actually smiled at her, or at least that was how she interpreted the expression. "Hello, blue ssuit lady. Ssnek iss pleassed to meet you."

Not the way she'd ever expected to be greeted by something that big and with that many teeth, but it was infinitely preferable to being immediately attacked. Carefully, she lowered the hammer on the pistol and pointed it at the floor; she'd seen how ineffectual lasers and bullets were against the thing, so the gesture was more diplomatic than meaningful. She remained ready to pull the duress button back to the full emergency level, though.

"It's … interesting to meet you as well," she replied. "Why are you here?"

"Ssnek hass resscued not-monsster Noelle and Masster has fixxed. Not-monsster Noelle hass assked for funny hat man and hiss other friendss for Masster to fixx. Ssnek iss here to tell blue ssuit lady that Ssnek will be taking them."

That took a few seconds for Emily to parse out. Finally, she recalled that Trickster habitually wore a top hat. And if 'not-monster Noelle' was the missing, mysterious member of the Travellers …

"The Travellers," she said. "You're saying you want to take the Travellers."

"That iss the name not-monsster Noelle ssaid, yess." Snek managed to look even more pleased with himself? Itself? "Ssnek will be taking them. Masster hass ssaid sso."

Part of her mind was saying, what are you doing? Don't argue with the giant snake! but she resolutely ignored that part. "They've committed crimes," she said firmly. "They've done bad things. I can't just let them go."

"Not-monsster Noelle ssaid they are Ssimurgh-bombss," Snek informed her. From the tone of its voice, it didn't know what the phrase meant, but knew it was important. "Sso wass not-monsster Noelle. Masster fixxed her. Masster can fixx other Travellerss too. If blue ssuit lady wantss, Travellerss will not come back."

Shit. Fuck. Okay, then. That's something I definitely needed to know yesterday. "So, what you're telling me is that the Travellers are Simurgh bombs, that your Master can fix that, and that he can arrange matters so they never return to this city even after he fixes them?"

"Travellerss will not come back to thiss world if blue ssuit lady does not want," Ssnek corrected her blithely. "Not-monsster Noelle wantss to sstay on Masster'ss world. Otherss may sstay there too."

This was sounding better and better all the time. "And if I said you couldn't take them?"

Somehow, the giant shoulder-less reptile managed to shrug. "Ssnek will take them anyway. Ssnek jusst likess to assk first. Masster ssayss politenesss iss important."

Well, that definitely laid everything out in black and white. "I suppose I can't stop you then. I'll notify the guards to not get in your way." A thought struck her. "One more thing. Is Tattletale a Simurgh bomb as well?"

Snek paused. "Ssnek doess not know. Pleasse excusse Ssnek for a minute?"

Emily had long since decided to go with the flow. Placing the pistol on the desk, she waved her hand magnanimously. "Go right ahead."

"Thank you, blue ssuit lady." A portal appeared in front of Snek and the gigantic reptile poured itself? Himself? down it. All fifty feet of missing length whipped out of the cramped ensuite and into the portal before it snapped shut.

She took a deep breath and spoke to the air. "You've seen and heard all that, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am." It was Hendricks, in the security station. "You've been having a conversation with a giant snake called Snek, which is giving us notice that it intends to take the Travellers off our hands." She had to admire his ability to state the utterly ridiculous in a matter of fact tone like that.

"Correct." Which meant she wasn't going insane, or at least not in ways that were immediately obvious. "Note that I'm inclined not to fight this situation, mainly because I'm pretty sure we can't."

"Affirmative, ma'am. For what it's worth, I agree with you. Also, Simurgh bombs."

That was an excellent point. She opened her mouth to make another observation, but then the snake slithered out of her ensuite again; this time, as the door was open, it didn't need to knock. "Hello, blue ssuit lady. Ssnek iss back. Masster sayss that purple girl iss not Ssimurgh bomb. Iss jusst naturally annoying. Masster alsso sayss that purple girl will make good Ward."

Emily bit back a snort of amusement. Just naturally annoying, indeed. Well, he's definitely got her number. "Thank you," she said, trying not to crack a smile. "I'll take that recommendation under advisement."

"Blue ssuit lady iss welcome," Snek said politely. "Ssnek will be taking Travellerss to Masster now."

This time, instead of vanishing into a portal, it wriggled backward into the ensuite. The door closed behind it.

Slowly, Emily got up from her desk. She approached the door and opened it, then looked within. The porcelain fixtures, including the cramped shower cubicle, were as pristine as ever. Of the gargantuan reptile that had slithered out of it—twice—there was no sign.

Shaking her head, she closed the door and headed back to her desk. She'd just gotten there and lowered herself into her seat when the hidden speakers in her desk came to life again. "Hendricks here, ma'am. The guards in Holding have just reported that the Travellers are missing from their cells. Should I fill them in?"

She pursed her lips thoughtfully. Damn, that thing works fast. "Not until you've had them pull all the security tapes, to see if you can spot how it pulled it off. After all, the next eldritch menace that comes through here might not be so polite as to give us advance warning."

Hendricks' voice may have held a smile. "Right you are, ma'am."

"Oh, and Hendricks?"

"Ma'am?"

"Could you send someone up to reset my duress button?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Leaning back in her chair, Emily Piggot shook her head. It was never dull in Brockton Bay.

<><>​

Noelle

The dining hall was huge and well-lit, with a long cloth-covered wooden table running most of the length of it. Large windows let in the afternoon sunlight, and richly woven tapestries added colour to the walls. When they'd sat down to the meal, the same hearth-dragon that she'd met earlier—or at least, she thought it was the same one—had swooped in through the window and perched on the arm of the chair to her left.

Servants had trooped through, depositing platter after platter of enticingly smelling food in front of them, before leaving them in peace to eat. The crockery and eating utensils appeared remarkably modern, compared to what she had read about in books on medieval customs. Most surprisingly, the tiny dragon—and its friends, who had also shown up, looking hopeful—didn't immediately start stealing food, but waited for it to be offered instead. For creatures with scales and wings instead of fur, they had an amazing line in puppy-dog eyes.

Krouse, sitting on Noelle's right, took a bite from a large drumstick—if that had come from a chicken, she wasn't sure she wanted to meet the original bird—and waved it around. The iridescent red-scaled hearth-dragon beside him watched it hopefully.

"So, what's the catch?" he asked. "We're all out of PRT holding. We're not Simurgh bombs anymore. Okay, we had to give up our powers, but I'm pretty sure most of us agree they were more trouble than they were worth."

Noelle offered 'her' dragon a chunk of meat, which it accepted politely from her fingers. "Well, duh," she said. Looking around, she could see Oliver and Marissa and Jess—the latter of whom had arrived in the dining hall escorted by the kid called Riley, walking on her own two legs—nodding in agreement. But Luke looked dubious, and Cody was outright scowling. "Come on, guys. All they did was get us out of one hole and straight into another."

"I know we can't go back to Bet," Luke said, "but we could've been heroes on Aleph."

"Fuck being a hero," Cody grumbled. "What right did they have to say we couldn't go back? Accord sold me into slavery, guys!"

"And Snek got you out," Noelle said. "The only way you're ever going back there is if Snek or his Master say so. Good luck with changing their minds. Especially since Director Piggot said she didn't want any of us ever going back." She was reasonably certain it hadn't been Piggot's decision, but the regional Director of the Brockton Bay PRT had a reputation of being enough of a hardass to agree with it.

"So what do we do now?" Krouse asked her. "You've been here the longest. Do you think we should go back to Aleph? We've been away for a year and a half. They probably think we're dead."

"Well, you can do what you want," she told him. "I'm staying right here. It's a whole world, set up for the kind of adventuring we used to pretend we were doing when we were playing Ransack. With enough convenient magic to prevent it from being horrifically medieval."

"Then I'm staying too," he said immediately. "You think it'll take us long to, I guess, train into a class? Or however it works here?"

"What? No!" Cody jammed the tines of his fork into the hard wood of the table, through the cloth. "Krouse, you were gonna go back to Aleph! Just go, why don't you? Nobody wants you here!"

"I want him here." Noelle spoke firmly, looking Cody in the eye. "You can go, or not, if you want. We don't have powers anymore. There's no reason for us to stick together as a group. But if Krouse wants to be here with me, to see if there's still something between us after all the shit we've been through, I'm willing to give it a try."

"Aarrrgh!" Cody jumped to his feet and stormed out. The door banged shut behind him. Two hearth-dragons jumped onto the table and started eating the food that he'd put on his plate, dividing it neatly between them.

Jess let out a heavy sigh. "Well, that happened."

"Yeah, it did." Oliver shrugged. "I'll try to find him and talk to him once he's cooled down a bit."

"Probably not a bad idea." Marissa looked across at Noelle. "So, two questions. Is there ballet here on this world? And I've been meaning to ask: what's that outfit you're wearing? Because it's absolutely kick-ass."

Noelle shrugged. "I don't know if ballet's a thing here, but I'm willing to bet that Snek's Master can make it happen. Maybe you can teach it."

"Ooh." Marissa looked pensive. "That … wow, I have no idea what to think about that."

"And what about your leather armour?" Jess leaned forward. "Where did you get it from? Because I absolutely want a set."

"That shouldn't be too hard." Noelle could feel the grin trying to take over. "I got it from a magical wardrobe in my room. As for what it is … dragon riding leathers."

That got everyone's attention.

"What?" asked Krouse. "Did you say dragon riding?"

"As in riding dragons?" Jess added.

"Real dragons?" Marissa said. One of the hearth-dragons squawked at her, and she fed it a piece of meat. "Sorry, sorry. You're very pretty. But actual, rideable dragons?"

Even Luke leaned into the conversation. "You've got my attention."

Noelle nodded, her grin widening. "Yup. Guys … I've absolutely ridden a dragon. I've done it. It's amazing."

Oliver seemed to be trying to catch his breath. "Can we … can we do that too?"

"Ahem." The Master of the Castle was abruptly sitting in an ornate chair at the head of the table. Noelle wasn't sure if he—or it—had been there all along, but her brain seemed to think so. "Yes. You may indeed ride dragons. Does this mean that you wish to stay?"

"Do we!" Luke turned to Marissa, Jess and Oliver. "You in, too?"

Jess nodded her head definitively. "You had me at 'we can ride dragons'. Mars?"

Marissa gave her a high-five, while Oliver merely nodded. "Well, duh."

The Master of the Castle nodded. "Very well. Your absent comrade has chosen, through sheer spite, to travel on his own for now. I wish him well in his endeavours, and you in yours. If you need assistance, call Snek's name and he will attend your needs. In the meantime, enjoy your meal."

As abruptly and soundlessly as he had appeared, he vanished once more, chair and all.

Jess and Marissa stared at where he'd been, then turned to Noelle. "Okay, give with the deets," Marissa demanded. "Riding dragons. What's it like?"

Noelle fed her hearth-dragon another chunk of meat. "Okay, the first thing you've got to understand is that they're big. I mean, huge. The next thing? They're huge dorks."



End of Part Nine

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Ten: Gotta Catch Them All

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


Kaiser

Max Anders drew a deep breath as he looked at the assembled group of capes that made up the Empire Eighty-Eight's muscle. "Congratulations, everyone," he declared. "We've won. Lung is gone, Oni Lee and Bakuda have managed to kill each other, and even Coil's been captured. There's nobody standing between us and total control of the Brockton Bay underground."

Justin raised one finger briefly. "The Merchants are still out there, and we've still got the PRT to worry about."

Cricket snorted and elbowed the young man in the ribs. Similar eye-rolls and expressions of exasperation spread through the rest of the group. With a slight smile on his face, Max waited for the interruptions to die down before he continued.

"Yes, the Merchants still exist, but if you honestly think a bunch of subhuman degenerates and drug addicts stand any chance of opposing us, then you're hitting the hard stuff more than they ever will. And as for the PRT … well, they have their rules and regulations. More to the point, if they were hesitant to come after us when we weren't the only significant group in town, what makes you think they'll change their ways now that we are?"

There was a pause of a few seconds, then Rune cleared her throat. "Uh … what about the snake?"

An awkward silence followed. Nobody wanted to talk about the snake. It was a mystery wrapped in an enigma, and the word on the street was that it had eaten Lung. Another story suggested that it was also responsible for eating Hatchet Face, abducting Bonesaw, and killing Jack Slash, and thus precipitating the dissolution of the Slaughterhouse Nine.

Max had no idea what to think about it. Certainly, it had appeared in Brockton Bay more than once—the viral footage aside, Fugly Bob's was now proudly displaying a framed picture of the snake itself proceeding peacefully through their drive-through—but beyond being seen with various capes, it had yet to establish any kind of allegiance. Where it came from, what it wanted and who it answered to, nobody knew.

On the one hand, it had attacked criminals in the act of committing crimes, and nothing they'd been able to do had even dented it. On the other, it had yet to bother the Empire. Perhaps it was a sympathiser, or was cautious of their power? They could, after all, muster more capes in the same place than any other group in Brockton Bay.

The most important aspect, he knew, was to show zero concern about it. If the others got even the slightest idea that he was worried, it would poke large holes in his façade of confidence. His father had drummed into him over and over that no matter what the actual situation was, he must always act like he knew what was going on and how to fix it.

"What about the snake?" he replied rhetorically. "At worst, it's a loose cannon. We know it isn't working with the PRT. Even if it was inclined to, they're not about to ally themselves with something that eats people whole. And if it did look our way, there's nobody here who isn't either fast enough to get out of its way or tough enough to make it back off." He almost said kill it, but that felt like pushing matters a little too far. It had taken on several powerful capes so far, and survived them all.

"Like to see it fuckin' try," boasted Hookwolf. "Stupid thing won't know who it's fuckin' with 'til it's too late."

A low murmur of agreement arose from the Brute-rated members of the Empire. Fenja and Menja both flexed, growing six inches taller before reducing to their base heights.

Max nodded. "Exactly. Keep an eye out for it and call it in if you see it, but otherwise; business as normal."

That should do it.

<><>​

That Evening
Aisha Laborn

Motherfucking cock-gargling ass-munching turd-jugglers. Panting, Aisha darted around the corner and wriggled behind a dumpster. It was narrow and cramped, and stank like Skidmark's underwear—because skidmarks, geddit?—but it had the advantage of putting her out of sight of the Empire assholes chasing her.

She didn't even know why they were up in her grille all of a sudden. This wasn't Empire territory, or at least it hadn't been until recently, so they'd sung low when passing through. But now, she'd only given them the finger just once from across the street, and half a dozen of them had come running after her.

Pounding footsteps became audible and she paused, trying to breathe slowly and silently. Nobody ran unless they were chasing someone or being chased, at least in this area of Brockton Bay, so she figured they had to be the same racist pricks she'd been trying to evade for the last fifteen minutes. Why couldn't they just give up and go home already, she groused silently.

"Where is she?" That had to be the leader. Aisha hadn't gotten a good look at him, but he had a deeper voice than the others, and the faint clinking of chains suggested that he wore them as an accessory. Because nothing says 'I've got a tiny dick' better than a bunch of chains hanging off you.

"Dunno," another one replied. "She couldn't have gotten far."

"Fuck," said a third one, breathing heavily. "That little bitch can run."

Damn right I can.

"She has to be around here somewhere," the leader growled, and she heard the sound of clinking chains coming closer to the dumpster. "You and you, look in there."

"What, inside?" It was more like a yelp than a protest. "It smells like shit in there!"

Chain guy had apparently had enough. "Open the fucking lid and start looking, or I'll shove you in there myself."

"Okay, okay, sorry. I didn't mean it that way. Couldn't you maybe make the smell go away or something?"

"I'm Stormtiger, not your personal fucking servant." The leader's tone was low and deadly.

Oh, shit. Aisha knew who Stormtiger was. Her personal threat awareness was now so far off the scale it was out of sight. Among those that the Empire Eighty-Eight had a beef with (ie, anyone with an ethnic background other than pure whitey-white) it was well-known that there were the bad ones and then there were the really bad ones. Stormtiger was one of the latter.

She heard the lid creaking open, and the dumpster was shoved a couple of inches into her ribs. Although she did her best to muffle it, she let out a pained grunt.

Stormtiger was still talking. "I don't— what was that?"

Aisha froze. Nope. Nope. Nope. You heard nothing.

"What?"

"I didn't hear anything."

"Me neither."

"All I heard was the dumpster."

"Same here."

"Step back." That was Stormtiger. "Unless one of you is wearing Dove deodorant, she's behind the damn dumpster."

Aisha's eyes opened wide. Shit fuck crap dammit—

A massive gust of wind smashed into the metal container, sending it flying down the alleyway. Aisha tried to grab hold, but it was gone before she could get a grip. Suddenly bereft of her hiding place, she stared up at the five Empire Eighty-Eight followers—and the one cape—standing there.

Some would've frozen on the spot. Aisha had no such reflex. Scrambling to her feet, she dived for the shadows in the full understanding that if she didn't get away, she was going to regret everything that happened next for the rest of her life. However short that might be.

One man cursed and reached for her, but she fended him off as though her life depended on it … which it essentially did. Another jumped in the way, arms and legs spread wide as though to body-block her; she dived between his legs, delivering an elbow to his groin on the way past. On her feet again, she dug her sneakers into the grimy, cracked concrete as she bolted toward the sanctuary of the darkness.

The whistling wind picked her up and spun her around. Losing all her footing, she flailed wildly as Stormtiger gestured. "Hey!" she yelled. "Let me go, assmunch! What'd I ever do to you?"

"Nothing," he admitted, with what she thought was a smirk under the mask. "But you're black, and you're in my city. That's enough for me. We were looking for someone to initiate the guys with, and you just volunteered."

If Aisha thought her eyes couldn't get any wider, she'd just proven herself wrong. She'd heard about Empire initiations, and none of it was good. "You-you don't want me," she blustered. "I've started my rag today. Talk about red tsunami, it's fuckin' gross."

Stormtiger turned his head to the other men. "Little cooch thinks a bit of blood's going to put us off. Anyone got a problem with that?"

"Nope."

"Hah, no way."

"Not likely."

"I'm good."

"No."

"Yess."

Stormtiger paused at the unfamiliar hiss. Now, the movement of his facial muscles behind his mask suggested a frown. "Who said that?"

"Ssnek ssaid that." The voice came from the darkness in the alleyway where Aisha had been trying to seek refuge. And then, a moment later, the speaker slithered into view.

While Aisha had never exactly afraid of snakes, her view of them had been very much 'pass'. They could do the wriggly hissy bitey thing somewhere else where she wasn't, and she'd be just fine with that. But right now, she was aware of exactly what (or rather who) this snake was, and she knew that it had eaten Lung and Hatchet Face. If it could do the same for her with Stormtiger, she was willing to review every bad thought she'd ever had about any snake anywhere.

"Snek!" she yelled. "Help!"

The gigantic python, or anaconda, or whatever Snek was, slithered closer, his massive head lifting off the ground until it was at Aisha's height. Despite the wind still blowing around, the fedora it was wearing (Aisha had no idea what that was about) stayed in place. "Ssnek help?" it asked. "Bad men?"

"No, we're not bad men," Stormtiger scoffed.

"Yes, bad men!" yelled Aisha. "They're going to hurt me!"

Stormtiger shook his head. "This is a bad girl. She's a thief. She stole from us."

Suddenly, the snake's enormous head—it had to be at least as long as Aisha was tall—darted forward until it was right in front of Stormtiger. "Ssnek thinkss blue massk man iss lying."

"Well, yeah, he's lying!" Aisha wasn't going to stand back idly for this. "He's Stormtiger! He's a supervillain! He works for the Empire Eighty-Eight! They're all bad people! They hurt people like me all the time!"

"She's lying!" blurted Stormtiger. "She's nothing but a little thief!"

Snek turned his head so that one enormous gold-rimmed eye was looking at Stormtiger, and one at Aisha. "Ssnek thinkss purple hair girl iss telling truth and blue massk man iss lying. Blue massk man wantss to hurt purple hair girl. Ssnek doess not like people hurting children."

Quicker than the eye could follow, the great mouth opened and a long tongue darted out. Instead of the simple fork that snakes tended to have, this one separated out into many prehensile tendrils that wrapped around Aisha and dragged her out of the whirlwind effect Stormtiger had trapped her in. With a flip of his head, Snek deposited Aisha astride his neck, then turned his attention back to Stormtiger.

"You're making a bad mistake," the villain averred, bringing up a barrier of wind between them. "The Empire Eighty-Eight would make a bad enemy for you. There's just one of you, and many of us."

"Ssnek hass fought many enemiess before," the snake said cheerfully. "Mouss ssayss iss called 'target rich envi-ron-ment'. Iss fun."

"Wait, is that Mouse Protector?" Aisha grinned widely. Girl was her kind of hero. "I've seen her pictures with you."

"Yess." Snek sounded pleased. "Mouss is good friend. Have adventuress together." He leaned toward Stormtiger. "Tell where other bad men who would hurt purple hair girl, and Ssnek will not eat blue massk man."

Stormtiger glanced to the left and right, and Aisha suddenly realised that his unpowered cohorts were deserting the scene at speed. She suspected that they also knew what had happened to Lung and Hatchet Face. "Looks like you're all alone, Stormy," she taunted. "You want to maybe tell the Snekmeister here what he wants to know, before he goes all om-nom-nom on your pasty-white ass?"

"I'm loyal to the Empire Eighty-Eight," snarled Stormtiger, "and I refuse to bow down to man, beast or ni—"

"Get 'im, Snek!"

CHOMP

<><>​

Hookwolf

The motorbike rumbled slowly down the road. Brad didn't bother with anything so pussy as a helmet or leathers; if he fell on the road, he knew what would give way first, and it wasn't him. Behind the bike, there was a pickup truck full of the party faithful; shaven heads as far as the eye could see. They were armed with pistols and assault rifles, based on how good they were at the makeshift target ranges the Empire had set up here and there.

There'd been no word from Stormtiger since one of the idiots who'd been with him had called for backup in a panic. Brad had been skeptical about the report—if his buddy had any idea what was coming for him, he could kick ass with the best of them—but the fact remained that Stormtiger was still radio silent. The long and the short of it was that he intended to find out—or find Stormtiger himself—and kick the ass of whatever had gotten to him.

He was fully aware that the guy's babbling added up to that stupid snake coming out of nowhere, but idiots lied all the time so they didn't look bad, or so they looked good. Brad had no tolerance for lying—well, they could lie to anyone else, but not to him—so he was going to go and find out exactly what had happened. If someone's ass needed kicking, Brad would kick it. And if it did turn out to be that goddamn snake, Brad was going to be wearing new snakeskin boots.

Nobody fucked with the Empire like this. Nobody.

Up ahead was the alley where the guy had said Stormtiger was facing off the snake. Smoothly, Brad pulled over to the side of the road and parked the bike. He didn't bother looking back at the others as he stalked into the dimness. They knew what to do.

When he got to the wider section where the action had supposedly taken place, he frowned. There wasn't any blood, or really anything else. He could see marks where a dumpster had stood and then been moved sideways, but that was about it.

"… the fuck?" he asked out loud.

"Sir?" called one of the trigger-men from outside. "Did you want us?"

"Stay the fuck out there!" he yelled back. He was no detective, but surely there were clues here about where Stormtiger had gotten to, and he didn't want the morons walking everywhere before he found them.

And then he saw it. Off in a corner, partially hidden under a newspaper, something patterned in white and blue. Exactly the same colour as Stormtiger's mask.

Moving in that direction with fast strides, he whipped the paper aside and picked up the mask that had been revealed. It was definitely Stormtiger's, alright. He'd know that paint job anywhere. The question was, who or what had cut clear through the tough leather strap and left it there? And more to the point, if it had only been lying there for half an hour, how did an old newspaper get draped over it?

That was when every hair on the back of his neck raised, all at once. Fuck. It's a trap. And I walked right into it.

In the next instant he let the blades out of his body in all directions, assuming his preferred wolf-shape as he spun around. His eyes searched the alley in both directions for the ambush he knew was coming. It was too neat a snare for there not to be one.

"Hello, pointy-blade man." The voice, redolent with a deep hissing undertone, came from above. As he turned his eyes in that direction, he saw the snake slithering over the edge of the roof three floors above and down toward the ground. Its eyes were bright with interest and curiosity, and there was a young black teenager with a purple streak in her hair riding astride its neck. Also, a normal-sized fedora on its broad head, but that wasn't important.

"Where's Stormtiger?" he demanded, then held up the discarded mask. "The man who was wearing this mask! Where is he?"

"Snek chomped him," the black girl said gleefully. "It was amazeballs. He was right in the middle of telling Snek where to go, too. Perfect timing."

"Ssnek not like bad men hurt children," the snake explained. "Blue massk man wass going to hurt purple hair girl. Ssnek wantss to know where other bad men are. Pointy-blade man tellss Ssnek where to find bad men, Ssnek not eat pointy-blade man."

Brad held up a hand. "Wait, wait. You're interrogating me? About the Empire Eighty-Eight? Is that what you're trying to do?" It was so stupid it was hilarious. Nobody interrogated him. Who the fuck even had the stones to try?

All of a sudden, the rest of the snake had slithered over the edge of the roof and joined him in the alleyway. There was an absolute fuck-ton of it, all wriggling and curling so fast he barely had time to react when two massive coils fell around him and started squeezing. "Yess. Ssnek needss to know where bad men are. Pointy-blade man knowss. Ssnek iss assking."

"What the … fuck …" Brad grunted, trying to loosen the grasp around him. Blades speared out of his skin, seeking to slice and dice the importunate reptile. It wasn't happening; the scaly hide seemed impervious to his keenest edge, and there was more muscle than he could stand up against. Inch by inch, foot by foot, he felt the steel he'd extruded being forced to either bend or be forced back into his body.

"Iss pointy-blade man ready to tell Ssnek where bad men are?" The snake's snout was mere feet from his. Even now, it didn't seem to exhibit any level of menace or anger. Just an innocent determination to do what it had to do. "Ssnek needss to know." A coil tightened, and metal snapped. "Pleasse."

"Hey!" yelled a voice from a little further down the alley. "What's going on?"

"Whoa," the girl said, looking over her shoulder. "Snek, they've got guns."

"That's right," grunted Brad, forcing the words out past the constriction. "They might not hurt you, but they'll fuckin' Swiss-cheese her."

"Ssnek not like bang-ouch weaponss," the snake replied. "Purple hair girl hide behind Ssnek." As he spoke, a section of its body rose up to shield the girl.

"Hey, Hookworm, you know Snek will just run these morons over or eat them too," the girl said. "Tell 'em to get lost and go fetch reinforcements. You know you want to."

As much as he hated to be told what to do, and as much as he loathed being helpless, Brad had to admit that the girl was correct on both points. "Go!" he yelled with what felt like the last of his breath. "Get Kaiser! Bring everyone! Kill this fuckin' thing!"

"Pointy-blade man not tell Ssnek where bad men are?" asked the snake almost plaintively, after the sound of running footsteps had died away.

"Not a chance," gritted Brad.

The snake nodded. "Ssnek undersstandss." Between one instant and the next, its coils opened up, leaving him free on the ground. Then the gigantic head blurred forward, jaws agape. He didn't even have time to scream.

CHOMP

<><>​

The Same Alleyway
Half An Hour Later

Kaiser

Max trod carefully through the muck and the grime, flanked by Fenja and Menja, along with an army of Crusader's ghosts. He wasn't taking any chances; Rune was providing aerial overwatch, Victor with a sniper rifle on her platform. Cricket, Alabaster and Krieg were coming in over the rooftops from different directions. Finally, Othala had personally made him invulnerable before he'd walked in, so no matter what happened, the snake was going down.

He wished Purity, Night and Fog had chosen to stay with the team, but he figured he could handle this without them.

The section of alleyway was empty, both of any people and of an oversized snake. A couple of gleaming pieces of metal caught his eye, and he toed them with his boot. "Hookwolf's blades," he said out loud. "Broken off. Look alive, people."

Fenja pointed with her sword. "What's that over there?" In the corner, where she'd indicated, was Hookwolf's metal mask, overlaying something coloured blue and white.

"Eyes all around," ordered Max over the radio net they were using, and strode over to investigate. Hookwolf's mask was a little bent and twisted, as though it had been subjected to impressive stress, while Stormtiger's was undamaged. As he turned them over in his hands, the fingertips uncovered to better feel what he was doing, he sucked in his breath in a sudden hiss of pain. Looking to see what had happened, he realised that he'd cut himself on a sharp edge of Hookwolf's mask …

… wait.

Cut myself?

"Othala," he said urgently. "Come in, Othala." The invulnerability she granted invariably lasted longer than that.

There was no reply.

"Kaiser to all points," he snapped. "Can anyone see Othala?"

"Victor here. That's a neg—"

"Kaiser to Victor. Repeat your last?"

Only dead air answered him.

"Kaiser to Rune! Where's Victor?"

"Look out!" yelled Menja, shoving him aside. At the same time, Fenja grew to twenty feet tall and put her shield over her head. Something shattered on it, pieces of concrete going everywhere.

Somehow, without even looking, Max knew it was the chunk of pavement Rune had been using as her personal flying carpet. "Everyone, sound off!"

"Crusader!"

"Krieg!"

"Cricket!"

"Fenja!"

"Alabaster!"

He looked around, confused. "Where's Menja?"

The milling Crusader ghosts suddenly vanished. Kaiser was starting to understand how the victims in a horror movie felt. "Menja! Crusader! Report!"

"We've got to get out of here," Fenja said urgently. "I can't get too big in this alley. But if we can get out on the street …"

"Good idea," Max said grimly. "Everyone, we're regrouping out on the street. Meet me there." Moving at his best speed, he hustled from the alleyway, secure in the knowledge that Fenja was covering his back. When he got to the car, where Alabaster, Krieg and Cricket were already waiting, he turned …

… and she was gone.

And that was when the music started.

<><>​

Uber

"Dude! We've got to kill the show!"

Leet stared at him. "We can't kill the show. You already told me we couldn't—"

"No! Look!" Uber pointed.

As the music drifted to his ears, Leet stared. "We're killing the show."

Uber started the car. "Got the Snitch ready?"

"Ooh yeah."

<><>​

Deputy Director Renick's Office
PRT ENE Building

The phone rang.

"Yes?"

"Uh, sir, you're not going to believe this …"

"Trust me, you have no idea what I would believe right now."

"Well, sir, we seem to have most of the Empire Eighty-Eight in custody. They just keep appearing in our holding cells."

"I'm not actually surprised. But thank you for informing me."

There was a pause.

"Uh, sir?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you not surprised?"

Deputy Director Renick sighed. "Because I'm watching a live feed of Kaiser, Alabaster, Cricket and Krieg being chased through the streets of Brockton Bay by a giant snake. There is a girl on the snake's back playing 'Yackety Sax' on her phone and cackling her head off. That's why."

There was an even longer pause.

"Okay, yeah, that's fair enough."

The call ended. Renick went back to watching the show.



End of Part Ten

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Eleven: See Monster? Eat Monster!

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Mouse Protector

Laughter rose from the viewing area atop Captain's Hill, where five humans and one snake relaxed at their leisure. Mouse Protector, unmasked and going as Diane for the moment, raised her soda in a mock toast as she leaned back against one of Snek's coils. "Oh, man, that's a good one," she said with a chuckle. "Did you really say, 'Get him, Snek'?"

"Purple hair girl did ssay that, Mouss," Snek confirmed, his snakish smile seeming to extend even further. "Blue massk man wass bad man. Wass not happy when Ssnek dropped him in ccell. Ssnek pay back blue ssuit lady for prissonerss Ssnek took."

"Well, I have to say this, Snek, you're the best boi." Lisa leaned over and booped him fondly on the snoot. He preened happily. "The look on Armsmaster's face when you called him 'pointy metal stick man' was amazing."

Diane's eyes widened, along with her grin. "No. You didn't."

"Ssnek did." Somehow, even without shoulders, the enormous reptile managed to shrug. "He had pointy metal sstick. Iss good name."

"It is totally the best name," Taylor decided. She reached into the basket sitting on the nearby table and pulled out an entire roast chicken. "Snek. Heads up."

Snek lifted his head, watching her carefully. When she tossed the chicken in the air, there was a blur of motion and a snap, and the chicken was gone. Lisa, Taylor and Aisha clapped. "Thank you, buzzy-bug girl."

"Buzzy-bug girl." Lisa snorted with amusement. "That will never not be funny."

"Says purple girl," Aisha snarked in return.

"Yeah, because purple hair girl is so much better."

Diane chuckled, listening to the kids bicker amicably. Snek was a big friendly goof who enjoyed having fun and wanted his friends to have fun, too. So bringing them all together and introducing them had been his best idea for doing that, and it had been a good idea.

The most amusing part of it all was the cape bogeyman, whom Snek had called 'nicce hat lady' and had introduced herself as Fortuna. Wearing a fedora identical to the one Snek had perched in the middle of his broad head, she was sitting quietly, sipping at her own soda. Either she was somehow unaware of the hat Snek was wearing, or was choosing to ignore it altogether, which made it even funnier.

Diane's phone beeped, and she pulled it out with an annoyed grunt. "I swear, if this is another telemarketer, I'll sic Aisha on him …" Her voice trailed off as she read the message on the screen. "Oh, crap."

"What?" asked Taylor. "What's the trouble?"

Diane and Lisa spoke at the same time. "Endbringer. Leviathan."

Taylor and Aisha both sat bolt upright. "What, here?" yelped the younger girl, staring out to sea, where a total lack of storm clouds and tsunamis could be seen.

"No, Savannah." With an acrobatic flip, Diane extricated herself from Snek's comfortable seating and landed on her feet. "I'm down for search and rescue in the PRT's contact files. Sorry, kids. Gotta leave the party early. Thanks for inviting me, Snek. I had a blast." Regretfully, she put her half-finished soda down on a table.

"Mouss iss welcome," said Snek. "What iss End-Bringer? What iss Lev-i-a-than?"

Diane pulled on her boots, then slung her baldric over her shoulder. Last, she picked up her mouse-themed helmet and put it on. "An Endbringer is a giant monster. Leviathan is an Endbringer. Every few months, he finds a city to wreck. We all go to fight him until he goes away."

"Mouss fight Lev-i-a-than? Iss dangerouss?" Snek sounded concerned.

"Heck yes, it's dangerous," declared Diane, getting back into her heroic persona. "But that's merely a day in the life of Mouse Protector, defender of the weak and assister of the unassisted. Mouse Protector, away!" Posing, she prepared to teleport to the local PRT building.

"Mouss. Ssnek help."

Diane paused. Snek was strong—really, really strong—but with his carefree mindset, she wasn't sure if she wanted to see him going up against an Endbringer unprepared. "Leviathan's more powerful than all the capes you've fought before, put together," she cautioned him. "If you go after him like you usually go after bad men, he could kill you."

"Ssnek undersstandss." The giant snake got an adorably determined look on his face. "Ssnek will assk Masster to fix. Mouss want to come, meet Masster?"

Now she was really torn between what she wanted and what she needed. Because heck yes, she wanted to meet Snek's mysterious Master. "This won't take long? Because I'm not sure if they'll hold my ride."

"Masster iss very ssmart and powerful," Snek assured her. "Will not take long."

"Well, then, o slithery vanquisher of a thousand foes," declaimed Diane. "Let us visit your Master at once!" Letting the voice drop, she turned to the others. "Sorry, kids. Heroic duty calls, and all that."

Taylor slid off Snek's coils and stood up. "Uh … should I costume up and come too …?"

"No." Diane shook her head definitively. "You don't know Savannah, and bug control isn't great in the pouring rain." She glanced across at Fortuna and raised an eyebrow.

"Fine." Fortuna sighed as she stood up. "I'll get the children home. Thank you for inviting me to your party, Snek. It was … different. In a good way."

"Nicce hat lady iss welcome." Snek dipped his head and looked pleased. "Will ssee again, when Ssnek can."

The look on Fortuna's face was somewhere between resignation and acceptance. "Yes. I have no doubt."

Grinning, Diane swung her leg over Snek's neck and settled herself into position. "Take care, kids. I shall return! Snek—away!"

"Yess, Mouss." Snek reared up slightly as the portal appeared before them. Before Diane think of anything cheesier to say, he whipped them through it … into a building she'd never seen before. The heavy stone walls and the massive wooden beams overhead gave her a strong hint, however.

"Is this your Master's home, Snek?" she said softly, looking around. "Because dang, he's got one heck of an architect."

"Masster built all thiss," Snek said proudly, wriggling along a corridor toward a heavy wooden door. "He iss the Masster of the Casstle." Pausing in front of the door, he bumped his snoot three times on it, counting under his breath as he did so.

"Come in, Snek," a voice intoned from within. "And kindly bring your guest as well."

Snek seemed to use his tongue to open the door, then slithered into the room beyond. Diane just stared around, jaw dropped, as she took in the scenery. A classic medieval castle was one thing, but this was a wizard's workshop if she'd ever seen one. And overhead, she could see a small dragon or a technicolour alligator with wings; either way, it had been taxidermied and hung from the ceiling as though caught in midflight.

In front of her was the wizard in question; of that she had no doubt whatsoever. She'd met Myrddin on several occasions, and he'd pulled off the 'master of the magical arts' schtick pretty well, but this guy made him look like a cheap stage magician without even trying. Greying hair and long robes, check; a gnarled staff made of some kind of wood she couldn't immediately identify, check; a palpable aura of power, check. Currently, he seemed to be working on a set of armour hanging off the medieval version of a dressmaker's dummy.

As they came to a halt and Diane slid off Snek's neck, he turned to face them. "Welcome, Mouse Protector of Earth Bet." His craggy, bearded face—she estimated his age to be somewhere between sixty and six thousand—creased in a smile as age-old eyes twinkled at her. "You are Snek's first real friend from your world, and as such I am grateful to you. He has spoken much of your adventures and how much he enjoys exploring your world with you at his side. Some would seek to take advantage of his gentle nature, but you have not."

"Well, no, of course not." She straightened her back and allowed just a little of her cape persona to creep into her speech. "I'd never do that to the big lunk. He's too lovable."

"Indeed." Shaggy eyebrows rose as he looked down at Snek. "I understand you are here with a request?"

"Yess, Masster." Snek raised his head slightly. "Mouss ssayss a monsster iss attacking. Lev-i-a-than. Ssayss monsster iss dangerouss, may hurt Ssnek. Ssnek wisshess to fight monsster, protect people. Masster help?"

"Well, then." He rubbed at his lips with one knuckle, then casually held out the other hand. The staff, which Diane belatedly realised had been standing upright with no other support, jumped to his hand as though it had always been there. "Water breathing enchantment …" The staff tapped Snek gently on the snoot, and a wave of silvery energy rippled along the length of the giant serpent. The Master of the Castle muttered a few words under his breath, then tapped Snek again. "Improvement and upgrade to your Ironscale and Razorfang enchantments." This time, the energy wave was a sparkly purple. Diane could actually see Snek's scales growing thicker and wider as she watched.

"Thank you, Masster." Snek swivelled one eye to look at Diane. "Masster help Mouss too? Mouss not sstrong like Ssnek."

Oddly enough, the Master looked pleased as Snek made the request. "Yes, I can most assuredly do that. You're a good boy, Snek."

"Thank you, Masster." Snek preened.

"Mouse Protector of Earth Bet." The Master held out his hand. "Will you accept magical assistance upon your quest to protect others?"

Diane found herself smiling at the formality. "What sort of a hero going forth would I be if I did not?" She reached out and grasped his hand.

"Very true." This time, he barely whispered a word, before the same silvery wave washed over her. It felt as though the fatigue in every cell of her body had been flushed out and she had been restored to full energy. "You will be untroubled by water until the danger is past."

She blinked. "I, uh, thank you, Master of the Castle." Not having to worry about drowning in a Leviathan attack? That was pretty damn big, right there.

"Ah, but I have not finished, young hero." Releasing her hand, he stepped aside and gestured at the armour on the stand. "I believe this will suit your needs?"

She blinked and stared at the armour, looking at it properly this time. Subtle contouring indicated that it was indeed designed for the female form, with a sheathed sword at the hip … hell, the helmet even had her mouse ears on it! How had she not seen that before?

"Because I did not wish for you to be distracted," the Master of the Castle said, before she could voice the obvious question. "Wearing this mail, you will be proof against treacherous attack, and no armour will turn your blade."

Oh, holy crap. Magical armour and sword? Yes, please!

She managed to rein in her immediate 'I want' impulse and turned back to the Master. "Just one question. When will you need it back by?"

"Whoever said anything about giving it back?" He made a brushing-away gesture. "The armour is yours. Wear it in good health."

"Uh, yes—yessir!" Suddenly aware of the ticking clock, she stepped over to the armour and examined it.

The pieces seemed to be remarkably similar to hers, and she quickly figured out how to don it. In this she was assisted by a girl who came out of nowhere and assisted her with murmurs of, "this goes here," and "buckle that there".

When she was finished—if anything, it felt lighter than her previous armour—she drew the sword and examined it. The weight and balance were so close to her original weapon that they could've been identical, save that her new blade felt like silk would if it were made of steel. The edge of the sword gleamed with unspoken promise.

Sliding it away again, she turned to thank her impromptu assistant, then stared. "Wait a minute. I know you. Bonesaw?"

"Not anymore." The kid shook her head. "The Master fixed my head. I'm Riley, now. Bonesaw died when Snek rescued me." She stepped forward and hugged Diane hard. "Thank you for killing Jack Slash."

Awkwardly, Diane ruffled her hair. "Yeah, well, it was about time someone did. You're doing okay, here?"

"I am." Letting her go, Riley stepped back and gave her a grin. "It's fun helping the Master with his magical experiments, and I get to play with dragons. And Snek brings us fast food sometimes, which is always nice."

"Heh, yeah, I heard about that." Diane drew a deep breath. "Look, I'd love to stay and catch up with everything that's happened, but Leviathan's likely to get all antsy if we don't show up on time. You know how Endbringers get."

Riley giggled. "Drama queens, the lot of them. Go, kick his scaly butt for me."

"So promises Mouse Protector." Diane turned to the Master. "Thank you once again for all of this."

"It is but a pittance. Your friendship with Snek repays all." The Master made a shooing gesture. "Go forth, young hero, and vanquish the beast."

"And vanquish we shall!" Diane glanced around for Snek, but the massive reptile was too fast for her, ducking his head under her leg to seat her astride his neck. "Wow, you're good at that."

"Ssnek practiccess. Goodbye, Masster. Goodbye, Riley." Snek turned and wriggled toward the door, opening it with his tongue. "Mouss hold on."

That had always been good advice. Diane dug her knees in as the portal opened before them. "Woohooo!"

<><>​

Snek

Snek decides to open wriggle-hole straight to Sa-van-nah place where monster Leviathan is attacking. Is good Master gave Snek and Mouse water protection magic because is raining lots and lots. Mouse sees men in dark armour and says to go that way. Snek wants to go toward ocean because that is where monster Leviathan is, but Mouse knows better so Snek goes to men.

Men look and smell frightened by Snek, but Mouse speaks to them. She is good with words, and says Snek is friend, and will fight Leviathan. Man gives Mouse pretty bracelet for wrist. That is nice. Mouse is good friend and deserves pretty things.

"Onward to battle!" shouts Mouse, pulling out long blade Master gave her and waving over head. Snek decides this means to go toward monster Leviathan and starts wriggling that way. Monster Leviathan sounds fun to fight. Is bad monster, so Snek can eat!

Lots of water from rain, and rivers to cross, but Snek is good swimmer. Snek sees bright coloured people and knowing they are here to fight monster Leviathan, decides to let them fight if they are polite. Snek does not want to hog fight.

When Snek reaches shore, big wave is coming in, taller than Snek is long. Snek can tell monster Leviathan is inside wave. Snek is very impressed. Wave is bigger than anything Snek has ever done, even when splashing tail really hard in bath.

Mouse slides off Snek's back. She gives Snek a headpat, then a skritch just where Snek likes it. "Snek …" she says.

Snek knows what Mouse is going to say, but waits anyway.

"… get him!"

Wave is much closer now. Mouse digs tip of long blade into sand and kneels, holding hilt with both hands. Snek knows Master armour and long blade will keep Mouse safe. Monster Leviathan is inside wave. Snek dives forward into wave.

Snek is under water now. There is water all around, but Snek is not frightened. Snek does not need to breathe, and Master's spell lets Snek see where monster Leviathan is. Snek swims toward monster Leviathan.

Hurting people is bad.

Snek will not let monster Leviathan hurt anyone.

<><>​

Mouse Protector

Diane wasn't sure how she knew this trick would work, but the knowledge was there all the same. Kneeling, she grasped the hilt with one hand and laid the other one over the pommel, sword tip sunk into the sodden sand, blade edge toward the onrushing tsunami. In any other circumstance, with the tremendous wave mere seconds from breaking over the outer shores of Tybee Island, she would've been prepping for a hasty teleport to get her out of harm's way.

You will be untroubled by water until the danger is past …

Gritting her teeth, she grasped the sword a little tighter, hoping the magic she thought would protect her was as good as she thought. Ahead, as the great green wall loomed over her, she briefly glimpsed Snek's sinuous form closing in on Leviathan, massive jaws agape.

And then there was no more time, as the wave broke. She was surrounded by a thunder of water, the maelstrom seeking to tear her one way or another, but thwarted by the edge of the blade as it split the onrushing torrent to the left and right. Directly around her was calm water, swirling gently.

Standing, she planted her feet firmly in the sand underfoot. When she pulled the sword from the sand, the current increased noticeably, but it still wasn't enough to be a problem. A thrashing swirl of bubbles caught her attention nearby and she looked around, to see that Snek had latched his teeth into Leviathan's tail and was trying to wrap his body around the rest of the monster. Leviathan was clearly not in favour of this concept and was doing his best to get away, with only middling success.

They tumbled away through the water and Diane re-sheathed her sword with an inner sigh. While she was entirely willing to test out the 'no armour will turn your blade' promise on a certain aquatic Endbringer, her armband was currently yammering out the names of people who had been caught in the tsunami and were now in a bad way. Pressing two buttons at the same time, she reported, "Snek has engaged Leviathan. The best boi is chomping on him like a chew toy. This is Mouse Protector, commencing search and rescue."

Grinning at the stunned silence that followed, she kicked upward into the moving water and swam toward the nearest struggling victim. It seemed that the 'you will be untroubled by water' promise had been quite literal; for her, the turbid silt-filled inundation was as transparent as air, and she could move through it with the grace and speed of a dolphin on cetacean performance enhancement steroids.

There were two capes quite near each other, both struggling to reach the surface and failing badly. Diane saw that one was trapped by wreckage, and the other was held down by a waterlogged costume. Idiot. What did he think was going to happen? Swimming closer, she pulled the sword again and sliced through the steel cable like it was a strand of spaghetti, then sheathed it again, grabbed them both, and boosted them to the surface.

Once the mandatory coughing and spluttering was out of the way, she turned to the one who'd been trapped. "The shallows are that way. Figure you can get doofus here to safety?"

"Y-yeah," he rasped, the salt water he'd swallowed making his voice rough. "Who—who are you?"

She grinned. It was too good an opening line. "I'm the mighty magic Mouse Protector, of course. Purveyor of cheesy puns and aquatic rescue. Now, I'd love to stay and chat, but there are others who need my assistance."

Releasing them, she paused to make sure that they could indeed stay afloat without her assistance—having a lungful of air made all the difference, apparently—then swam off toward the next rescuee. This guy had apparently tried to Tinker up a force-field barrier to stop the tsunami but hadn't factored in the concept that the wave would be higher than the barrier. She paused to disentangle him from the remains of his own tech and get him to the surface, then looked around for more people to help.

What she saw instead was Leviathan.

In the few minutes that she'd been working to save people and make the world a better place, Snek had evidently been having a lot of fun. There were large chunks missing out of Leviathan's hide where the world's biggest cuddle-bunny snake had sunk his fangs in and ripped out a piece. In addition, half his tail was missing—so that's how he got free from Snek the first time—and his left leg looked severely gnawed upon.

And now he was arrowing directly at Diane through the water at a speed that left behind bubbles of supercavitation. Racing in from the side, streaking through the water like the world's biggest and cutest homing torpedo, came Snek, fedora still fixed firmly atop his head. But Leviathan wasn't so much running away from Snek—though he was doing that too—as he was going toward Diane, all four green eyes blazing like Christmas lights set on overload.

The implication was easy to understand. Diane wasn't quite sure how it was that tall, ugly and scaly had figured out that she'd brought Snek into this fight, but he was absolutely willing to take his pound of flesh in retaliation. In other words, he fully intended to smoosh her all over the Savannah waterfront.

There was nothing for it. She drew the sword—even underwater, the motion was far smoother and faster than she'd ever been with her old weapon—and brought it up and around into a guard position. That was all the time she had before Leviathan reached her.

A stunning blow sent her tumbling ass over teakettle in a rush of bubbles. But there was no stabbing pains, no feeling of broken bones. She brought herself to a stable floating position, and checked herself over. Everything was still present and correct; the armour was slightly discoloured, but she was sure that would buff out.

Wearing this mail, you will be proof against treacherous attack …

Well, he hadn't been wrong. But now she had to get back to the fight. Leviathan had tried the ultimate sucker punch on her, and she wanted to return the favour.

That was when she heard the crackling, crunching sounds. Very familiar crackling and crunching sounds. The first time she'd heard them was when Hatchet Face met his unfortunate demise. Looking around, she saw Leviathan again. He was missing one arm and most of one leg; sliced neatly off, they lay on the sand beneath him. Oh, cool. I got him.

And she hadn't been the only one, because wrapped all the way around Leviathan, applying the special snekky cuddle the way only he could, was Snek himself. And the more Leviathan struggled, the more Snek squeezed. One by one, the Endbringer's bones broke.

And then, Snek began to eat him.

<><>​

Snek

By the time Snek finish eating monster Leviathan—keep leg for snack for later—rain has stopped, water all drain away. Mouss is there, looking happy. Snek happy, too. Was angry when monster Leviathan try to kill Mouss, but Mouss cut off arm and leg. Master sword good for Mouss.

People say many nice things to Snek after Mouss explains. Snek gets many headpats and backrubs. Is nice when people like Snek.

Snek offers to take Mouss back to city with buzzy-bug girl and purple girl, but Mouss says she will stay to help clean up mess. Mouss hugs Snek and thanks him for eating monster Leviathan. Snek is happy Mouss invited him to big fun fight.

Snek goes home through wriggle-hole to Master's castle. He bumps three times on door to Master's work room. "Come in, Snek," says Master. Snek comes in.

"Hello, Masster," says Snek. "Wass good fight. Ate monsster Lev-i-a-than. Got Masster pressent." Snek takes hard ball that was inside monster Leviathan from not-eat place in throat and holds it out to Master.

"Thank you." Master takes hard ball and holds up to light. "This is a fine specimen. I believe I will add it to the collection. You're a good boy, Snek."

Snek is happy. Snek likes being told he is a good boy.

"So, did you really eat an Endbringer?" asks Riley. She gives Snek more head-scratches, which Snek always enjoys. "What did it taste like?"

Is easy question to answer. "Monsster Lev-i-a-than tasste like chicken."

Riley rolls on floor and laughs and laughs. Snek not understand why.



End of Part Eleven

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Twelve: Post Leviathan

[A/N 1: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

[A/N 2: I've used some of the comments posted to the last chapter on Spacebattles in the comments section of PHO, with adapted names.]

■​

Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.
You are currently logged in, Bagrat

You are viewing:
• Threads you have replied to
• AND Threads that have new replies
• OR private message conversations with new replies
• Thread OP is displayed.
• Ten posts per page
• Last ten messages in private message history.
• Threads and private messages are ordered chronologically.

■​

♦ Topic: Leviathan Dead
In: Boards ► Endbringers ► Leviathan ► Savannah (5/15/11)

Legend (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (Verified Cape) (Head of Protectorate)
Posted On May 15th 2011:
Okay, so this is apparently what happened.
Mouse Protector attended Savannah, riding astride a sixty-foot python or constrictor (I'm not an expert), fitting the description of the creature called 'Snek' that's been making news over the last month or so. As soon as MP was issued her tracking unit, she and Snek traveled eastward, toward where Leviathan was due to make landfall. Leviathan's first tsunami disrupted the defenses. Two heroes and one villain were in danger of drowning, but were rescued by MP. At this time, a violent disturbance was noted in the water, but no clear images could be acquired.
Shortly thereafter, the rain stopped and the clouds cleared. MP and Snek emerged from the water. The latter was carrying one of Leviathan's legs in its mouth. It reportedly described this as 'snack for later'. Mouse Protector confirmed that Snek had eaten the rest of Leviathan. This was further verified when we found no other evidence of Leviathan's presence in the area, nor any indication that he had fled.
It actually does appear that Leviathan, as bizarre as it sounds, has been eaten by a giant talking snake.
Due almost entirely to this, for the first time ever, we've had an Endbringer attack with zero fatalities.
Congratulations, everyone. And a special thank-you to Snek, for doing what nobody thought could be done.
You are indeed a good boy.

(Showing page 1 of 10)

►SuperDude
Replied On May 15th 2011:
All the Snek Snacks and head pats for the Good Boy! All of them!

►casual_reader
Replied On May 15th 2011:
Truly, Snek is best boi.

► Distant_Target
Replied On May 15th 2011:
Well scratch one Endbringer. Snek is a very good boy for having rid the world of the nasty fishy monster. Truly, he "tasted" victory this day!

►BangTwenty
Replied On May 15th 2011:
Snek continues to be the best nope rope.

►GstringGirl
Replied On May 15th 2011:
Is it really true? I can hardly believe it.

►Mouse_Protector (Verified Cape) (Independent Hero) (Veteran Member) (Purveyor of Cheesy Puns)
Replied On May 15th 2011:
Hon, it is most definitively true. I swear upon my oath as protector of all things mousey and cheesy.

►Legend (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (Verified Cape) (Head of Protectorate)
Replied On May 15th 2011:
@Mouse_Protector, I would be extremely interested in sitting down with you and learning everything you have to tell me about the battle and about Snek.

►True_Believer152 (Temp Banned)
Replied On May 15th 2011:
Blasphemer! None can destroy Our Lord of the Waters! His Wrath shall rise up and destroy you! The false idol will also be obliterated!

►Mouse_Protector (Verified Cape) (Independent Hero) (Veteran Member) (Purveyor of Cheesy Puns)
Replied On May 15th 2011:
@Legend - sure, next time I'm in the Big Apple, I'll swing by. Just be sure to leave out a platter of my fave cheeses. A mousey's gotta eat.
@True_Believer152 - Oh. You're one of *those*. Well, sorry to say, Fallen-boy (or girl), but your Lord of the Waters ended up as a Snekky snack. He's now a fish-flavored belch.
​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 8, 9, 10

(Showing Page 2 of 10)

►GreatAndTerribleAisha
Replied On May 15th 2011:
Man, now I wish I'd been there.

►True_Believer152 (Temp Banned)
Replied On May 15th 2011:
Lies, all lies! The Lord of the Waters will return to bless you with his unstoppable floods, and to all who stand against him, woe!

►Brilliger (Moderator: Protectorate Main)
Replied On May 15th 2011:
Okay, that's enough out of you, @True_Believer152. You're allowed to hold whatever opinions you feel are valid, but cultist rantings are a no-no. Have a temp ban while you think that one over.

►Laotsunn (Kyushu Survivor)
Replied On May 15th 2011:
@Mouse_Protector - please pass on to Snek all of my heartfelt gratitude and best wishes. He will be in our prayers.

►Brocktonite03 (Veteran Member)
Replied On May 15th 2011:
I remember when we were the only ones to have weird Snek stories. Hell, I remember when everyone thought he was an urban legend.
Snek, you rock!

►GoodGirlRiley
Replied On May 15th 2011:
Hi, I won't be getting on much, but I wanted you all to know that I've passed on your thanks and best wishes to Snek. He's happy to know that everyone thinks he's been a good boy.
@Mouse_Protector - he says hi, and he'll be around to visit you sometime soon. Also, he says Leviathan tasted like chicken, not fish.
@True_Believer152 - Leviathan deserved everything he got.
@Legend - according to the boss, he's a Hyrakian python. Don't bother looking that up. It won't be in your books.

►Legend (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (Verified Cape) (Head of Protectorate)
Replied On May 15th 2011:
@GoodGirlRiley - thank you for that. Is it possible to contact Snek through you? I'd really like to talk to him and see if it's possible to set up a regular working arrangement with the Protectorate and PRT.

►GoodGirlRiley
Replied On May 15th 2011:
@Legend - sorry, I'm not Snek's boss, just his friend and work colleague. The boss generally has requirements on his time so he probably wouldn't be able to commit elsewhere. But he'll be around again sometime. He really enjoys visiting you guys and helping people.

►FuglyBobsUSA (Verified Fast Food Restaurant)
Replied On May 15th 2011:
This is to announce that the entity known as 'Snek' can now eat for free at any Fugly Bobs restaurant, in perpetuity.

►Mouse_Protector (Verified Cape) (Independent Hero) (Veteran Member) (Purveyor of Cheesy Puns)
Replied On May 15th 2011:
@GoodGirlRiley - Well, if it isn't my little armor assistant. Nice to hear from you. Your boss must have one heck of a communications setup.
Chicken, huh? Well, looks like my comment about keeping a drumstick for later was on the money.
It'll be nice to see my Snekky-boops again. Him and me go together like cheese and crackers.
@FuglyBobsUSA - Wow, you're brave. You do know he ate most of an Endbringer in one sitting, right?
​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 8, 9, 10

<><>​

Taylor

I'd never been to Savannah, but it wasn't hard to tell the aftermath of a Leviathan-spawned wave. Rubble was everywhere and they were still cleaning up the streets, while shots of the island just offshore showed that many buildings had just been flattened. And that had only been the one wave.

Snek had presumably vanished through his own personal wormhole before the news crews had arrived on site (being able to teleport had to be so handy) but Mouse Protector (or Diane, as she'd told us to call her) was still on site as the cameras were panning around. I couldn't help thinking that her armour looked a bit cooler and sleeker than what she'd been wearing before, even without taking into account that she'd just been through an Endbringer battle in it. Did she get an upgrade from Snek's Master?

Dad nodded at the TV. "You see that? That sort of thing is what made me nervous about you going out as a hero. Taking down punks and thugs is one thing, and having Snek around to protect you against the nastier villains was a huge bonus. But some things are too damn powerful for anyone's good, and they don't give a damn about who gets hurt."

"Yeah, I got that with Lung," I said. "Tattletale tried to tell me about how it's like a big game of cops and robbers, and the rules that they all follow." I rolled my eyes. "Everyone but Lung, apparently. It's a good thing Snek was there."

"Yes, it was." He drew a deep breath, then drummed his fingers on his thigh. "Can … can we talk?"

The tone of uncertainty in his voice made me start to worry. "About what?"

He frowned, deeply. "About … well, about your powers. What you're going to do with them. We haven't spoken about it since you showed me where Lung died."

"Dad, I—"

"Now hear me out," he said hastily. "These are your powers. This is your super identity. I really, truly do not want to make you feel like I'm cramping your style here. I know you want to do this … but I'm unhappy when I think about you not having someone like Snek backing you up while you're out and about."

My breath caught in my throat. "Dad … are you trying to tell me that you don't want me going out as a hero? Because that's what it sounds like."

"No. No, no, God, no." He shook his head. "You've got powers, and you want to do good with them. I would be the worst father in the world if I held you back from that. I just want to see if we can work toward a compromise, where you still use your powers to help people and I can feel at least moderately confident of your safety while you're doing it."

I allowed myself to start calming down again. "Okay … that sounds fair, I guess. What were you thinking of suggesting?" Because if I knew my dad, he wouldn't be putting something like this forward if he didn't already have ideas in mind.

He looked relieved, probably because I wasn't shooting him down immediately. "Well, I'm guessing you're still set against the Wards."

"Yeah, that's not happening." I waved the idea away physically. Emma and Sophia were doing their best to hound me every day at school, and it took bug-enabled prescience for me to duck and dodge around their ambushes. If the Wards had one tenth of that kind of drama, I didn't want to be there. And it wasn't like I could sign up for a trial period; I'd looked at the Wards contract online, and balked at the sheer number of clauses they could call on.

"New Wave would require you unmask." He knew how I felt about that.

"Also, I'd probably ruin their aesthetic," I agreed. Grey and black and swarms of bugs probably wouldn't mesh with their image of light and warmth.

"I could go out and about with you, and drive you to trouble spots?" He didn't sound particularly enthusiastic about the option, but I knew if I took him up on it, he would follow through.

Still, I shook my head. "That could go pretty badly wrong. If the wrong people see our license plates at the wrong time, I'm outed."

"True." He paused, thinking. "I'm guessing you're not willing to wait until Snek is in town again and go out heroing with him."

"So, what I was already doing? No, thanks."

"Then what about the other option I thought of? Use your power for pest extermination?"

I blinked. "I … well, I basically assumed that I couldn't because of the rules about being paid for power use."

He held up a cautionary finger. "Never assume until you've double-checked. I looked it up: so long as we take care to jump through a few basic hoops, we should have no trouble establishing you as a hero who exterminates bugs on the side."

"What sort of hoops are we talking about?" I asked. "Because unmasking—"

"—is definitely not on the table," he assured me. "Basically, you're not allowed to price anyone else out of the market, or force them out in any other way. This is so that if you suddenly lose your powers or decide that exterminating bugs isn't fun anymore, or stop doing it for any other reason, there'll be others who can take up the slack. NEPEA-5 has a bunch of rules that don't apply to you, such as using Thinkers to predict market trends and suchlike … though I guess if you used your powers to move bugs into someone's place, you'd know who was going to call you next."

I shook my head definitively. "Yeah, that's a hard nope for me. Pretty sure that would count as going villain, and that's not my deal."

"I'd prefer we didn't go that way, either," he agreed. "But I can start looking into the paperwork for registering you as a bug-extermination rogue cape, if you want. What sort of trade name do you think you'd like to go with? Because as cute as it sounds when he says it, 'buzzy-bug girl' probably won't get you the respect that you deserve."

"How about Lady Swarm Extermination Service?" I spread my hands. "It's not like I'm going to be pretending to be another cape altogether. And rescuing people from muggers is kind of separate from removing all the bugs from their house. There won't be any confusion about what I'll be getting paid for."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. That should work. I'll start setting that up tomorrow. Also, I've been speaking with Mr Howe. DC&H should have everything lined up to hit them with the lawsuit as of the twenty-eighth."

I blinked. That date was significant. "First day of summer vacation?"

"Exactly." He grinned viciously. "That way, they can't use ongoing school duties as an excuse to duck and dodge out of showing up to court."

"And that's only about two weeks away." I nodded. "Sure, I can hold out that long."

"Good." He patted me on the shoulder. "I know it's been hard on you, and I know I wasn't there to help you out for far too long, but I'm here now and we'll get through this together."

Impulsively, I hugged him. "Thanks, Dad. That means so much to me."

His arms crept around me, and I felt the warmth and belonging of an answering hug. It felt safe and secure.

We stood like that for a long time.

<><>​

That Evening

Snek is happy that he ate monster Leviathan and gave Master hard ball from inside. Master has put ball in collection, where Snek can see them all. They would be crunchy and tasty—Snek has eaten others like them—but they are Master's, so Snek does not eat. Snek is happy that Master likes Snek's present. Master's collection is very impressive. There is more than ten balls in it.

Master is doing Master things, and Riley is riding dragons, so Snek decides to go visit friends in fun world. He asks Master permission first—being polite is good—then goes through wriggle-hole to city where purple girl and buzzy-bug girl and purple hair girl all live.

Buzzy-bug girl likes being hero, so Snek goes to her house. He knocks on door with snoot, counting one-two-three, like he does with Master's door. Is good to be polite.

Door is opened by Danny. Danny is buzzy-bug girl Taylor's father. "Hello, Danny," says Snek.

Danny looks surprised to see Snek. "Uh, hello, Snek," he says. He is very smart. He remembers Snek's name! "Are you here to see Taylor?"

"Yess, Danny," says Snek. He is very impressed. He did not even have to tell Danny what he wanted. "Iss buzzy-bug girl Taylor here?"

"Sure, just one moment." Danny steps back into house a little. Snek waits. He is good at waiting. "Taylor, can you come downstairs, please? You have a visitor."

"Coming!" calls out buzzy-bug girl as she runs downstairs. She comes to where Snek is and her eyes go wide. "Snek! It's good to see you again!"

"Iss good to ssee buzzy-bug girl again," Snek says. Is true. Buzzy-bug girl is Snek's friend. "Would buzzy-bug girl like to come out helping people with Ssnek?"

Buzzy-bug girl stops and looks at Danny. "Can I, Dad?" she asks. "Please?"

Danny looks at Snek and then at buzzy-bug girl. "It is a school night," he says.

"I've already got my homework prepped," says buzzy-bug girl. "Sealed in waterproof envelopes with my name written across the seal. And they can't just steal the whole thing and erase my name. I wrote it, front and back, every page, in pen."

Snek does not know what is happening, but he knows stealing is bad. "Bad people ssteal buzzy-bug girl'ss thingss?" he asks. "Ssnek will get back."

Buzzy-bug girl gives Snek a hug and a snoot-boop. Snek likes snoot-boops. "Thanks, Snek, but it's alright. I'd just like to go out and be a hero."

Buzzy-bug girl says is alright, so is alright. Snek smiles at buzzy-bug girl and Danny. "Ssnek likess helping people."

Buzzy-bug girl looks at Danny. Danny nods. "Okay, but try to be home by midnight."

"You're the best!" Buzzy-bug girl hugs Danny. "I'll be as quick as I can, Snek." She opens door and runs down into basement. Snek will wait. He is good at waiting.

Danny looks at Snek. "So, uh, what was it like fighting an Endbringer?"

Snek smiles. Danny is nice person. "Monsster Leviathan try to hurt people in Ssa-van-nah, make big wave. Ssnek bite tail. Tail tassty, Ssnek eat. Monsster Leviathan try to sswim away, but Masster hass put sstrong magic on Ssnek …"

<><>​

Shadow Stalker

Sophia sighed, rolling her eyes. It was the same old damn story, no matter how many times she saw it played out. A bunch of stupid ignorant goddamn sheep, with the collective survival instinct of a bunch of stoned lemmings, had gone out looking for fun and excitement on the wrong side of town and found far more of it than they could handle. Fuckin' shocker, right there.

And not only had they gotten lost on the way back to their car, and taken a shortcut through a fuckin' alley in the hope of getting back on the right track, but they'd also walked right into a bunch of Merchants that were probably jonesing for their next fix, and not too particular how they paid for it. She'd been trailing the partygoers for the last ten minutes, morbidly curious as to exactly how much trouble they were going to get themselves into. Well, she had her answer. Way too much.

Now she was crouched on a rooftop, looking down at the confrontation, wondering if any of the simple-minded little twits were going to show the slightest bit of spine before it was too late. The law of the jungle was simple: if you walked into the jungle without being prepared to fight, you ended up as lunch. Sometimes she liked to think of it as predators versus prey, but most of the time it was survivors and losers.

The thought of losers made her fists clench inside her gloves. There was one specific loser who was absolutely getting on her nerves these days, and the situation was becoming more and more aggravating as time went on. She didn't want to accept the concept of Hebert managing to acquire something resembling competence, but for some reason it was getting harder and harder to pin her down at Winslow these days. No matter how much of a pattern she built up, whenever they tried to exploit it, that was the day she did something totally different.

There were only two weeks left before the end of the school year, and there was no way in hell she was going to concede to Hebert and whatever bullshit she was pulling to keep ahead of them. Emma was getting just as antsy, but for a different reason. The line Sophia had fed her about pushing Hebert down so she could show how strong she was … well, it had kinda backfired. Given Hebert's run of luck with how successfully she was avoiding them, Emma was starting to wonder about her own strength. If she couldn't even keep Hebert down, was she really strong?

One of the girls down below cried out as a Merchant grabbed her by the arm. Nobody intervened, and she didn't even try to slap him. Sophia rolled her eyes again. Weak, that was what they were. Weak and spineless. Maybe if they went through a bit of a rough experience, they'd fight back next time.

They'd survive. They wouldn't enjoy it, but they'd survive. And afterward, Sophia would punish the perpetrators.

The Merchants all yelled at once, but not the kind of shouts she was expecting from guys expecting to make some money and maybe get some rough trade, all at the same time. These sounded like they were in pain, but their prospective victims still hadn't fought back. Stumbling back away from the girls, the gang members looked like they were fighting—and losing to—invisible opponents. Their yelps of pain as they waved their arms around were very real, which made Sophia reasonably sure they weren't suffering withdrawal hallucinations.

"Follow the fireflies," buzzed a creepy-as-fuck voice, just as a line of fireflies sprang into being in front of the girls. "Go, now."

The girls wasted no time in doing what they were told, hurrying out of the alley in what looked like the right direction to get back to the main road. Their would-be assaillants had lost all interest in pursuing them, and indeed seemed unable to stay upright. One after the other, the men tripped and fell. Despite struggling to get up again, they remained on the ground.

And then … a teenage girl stepped out of the shadows.

Her costume was actually pretty badass, Sophia had to admit. Not as good as the Shadow Stalker costume, of course, but still up there in the edgy stakes. Grey and black that blended in with the shadows remarkably well, with yellow lenses and insectoid mandibles on the mask. Finally, she had some sort of chunky spider pendant around her neck, that really helped sell the look.

Sophia frowned. She seemed to recall a briefing about some new hero called Lady Swarm, but no details were surfacing. Except for bug control. That was pretty damn obvious. The way the newcomer had taken the assholes down would've been badass, except that like every Master ever, she was a coward, hiding behind her bug minions.

And then she stopped and looked directly up at Sophia. The yellow lenses, seeming to float in a sea of shadows, looked even creepier than the voice sounded. "Why don't you come on down?"

<><>​

Taylor

The cloaked girl turned to shadow and drifted down into the alley, then reformed on the ground in a dramatic crouch. I got the strong impression that she thought a lot of the theatrics made her look cooler than they really did. Slowly, she rose and turned toward me, then her hand came out of her cloak with a small crossbow.

I tensed, but it wasn't pointing at me. Instead, it angled toward the nearest of the would-be rapists (or at least robbery-with-menace-ists) and went off with a soft twungg sound. A short arrow with a liquid reservoir in the middle of it was now stuck in his leg; he protested weakly, then slumped.

Okay, so it shoots knockout arrows. The only question now is why.

"What the hell?" I demanded, barely remembering to have the bugs buzz along with my words. "They're down. They're secured. You didn't need to shoot him—hey!" My yell came as the crossbow somehow reloaded itself and she shot a second guy. "I said they're secured!"

"Yeah, right," she sneered. "All the way up until one of them cuts himself loose from whatever you did—spiderwebs, right?—with a hidden knife, then shanks you when your back's turned. Doing you a favour, right here."

"I checked them over," I snapped back. "No knives where they can get to them."

"Bullshit." She shook her head. "You never went near them."

"When I've got fifty bugs searching every one of them, I don't need to." I flew a swarm of moths in front of the crossbow before she could shoot a third one. "I said quit it!"

"You're a fuckin' newbie," she jeered. "You don't know how this goes, do you? Your witnesses are three blocks away by now. What are you gonna tell the cops when they show?"

"Well, for one thing, they're all carrying drugs." I wanted to roll my eyes, but she'd never see it. "Why were you sitting up there watching, anyway? That one girl could've been badly hurt, but you never made a move."

"None of your fuckin' business," she said, her voice an almost literal growl.

"It is actually kind of my fuckin' business." I made the buzzing overlay even more intense. "It's our job to protect people, not be glory hounds. Were you scared? Was that it? Waiting until they were distracted with her, so you could shoot them in the back and be the big damn hero without any risk?"

She took a step to me. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. Were you scared?"

"I was not scared!"

"Could've fooled me," I said dismissively.

"I don't get scared!" she screamed at my face.

"So why did you wait?" I shouted back.

"For them to fight back!" She paused for a moment, as though realizing what she'd just said out loud.

"You're shitting me." I shook my head. "You expected them to fight back? How fucking delusional are you, anyway?" Another thought hit me, with the power and speed of a freight train. "And just how many people have you let get hurt, because you were waiting until they fought back?"

"That's none of your fucking business." The crossbow was pointed directly at me, now. "This is the way I see it. You're gonna fuck off now. Thanks for letting me know they're carrying drugs. This is my bust now. When you get home, you're gonna forget this whole thing, because I'm a fucking Ward, which makes me fuckin' untouchable. Try and allege one thing without proof, and our lawyers will bury you."

"Yeah, yeah." I smiled under the mask. "There's just two problems with this idea."

I was absolutely certain she'd just rolled her eyes. "And what are they, Einstein?"

"Well, for starters, you're threatening me with a crossbow, and I have a friend who really doesn't like that. Snek, if you will?"

My only regret right then was not being able to see the look on her face as Snek's tongue came down from above and yoinked the crossbow clear out of her hand. It retracted into his mouth, and I knew the weapon was now stored in his 'not-eat place'.

"Hello, sshadow girl," said Snek, coiling down into the alleyway. "Ssnek iss Ssnek."

"Jesus fuck!" she yelped. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

"Ssnek comess from Masster'ss casstle," Snek replied promptly. "Iss helping buzzy-bug girl be hero. Why did sshadow girl point twang-arrow weapon at buzzy-bug girl?"

Shadow Stalker's whole attitude had changed in just a few seconds. I was pretty sure it was because she knew exactly who Snek was. Of course, there were very few people in the world right then who didn't know who he was. The image of him wriggling out of the surf with Leviathan's leg held triumphantly in his mouth had shown up everywhere.

"Look, this is just a misunderstanding, okay? Heroes do this all the time. Mistake each other for villains, trade a few punches. We're all good, right? Right?" The cockiness had gone right out of her attitude, replaced by an edge of desperation.

"Ssnek thinkss," he said deliberately, "that sshadow girl iss bad persson. Blue ssuit lady would want Ssnek to put bad persson in prisson ccell."

"Blue suit—ohhh, no," Shadow Stalker said, clearly realizing something I hadn't. "You are not going there. This doesn't end that way." She began to back away.

Snek suddenly lunged at her. His tongue shot out and grabbed at her; before it could get a proper grip, she went to shadow. I'd half-expected him to clamp his jaws around her anyway, but she flitted away up the wall and out of sight. He poured himself into a portal and vanished. A few seconds later, he returned, empty-mouthed.

"Ssnek ssorry," he said. "Sshadow girl got away."

He looked so downcast that I gave him a hug and a pat on the head. "Don't worry about it, Snek. You did good. You did really good. And you helped me out a bit."

"Ssnek did?" He seemed to regain some of his spirits. "How did Ssnek do that?"

I chuckled wryly. "Now I'm absolutely certain that I don't want to be in the Wards, if that's how they let them act."

"Ssnek undersstandss." He turned to face me. "Ssnek alsso got sshadow girl'ss facce, if buzzy-bug girl wantss."

"Her face?" Then his tongue came out, clutching a full-face mask portraying a scowling woman's face. "Oh, her mask. It does look like a face, doesn't it? Thanks, Snek. This will help when I make the complaint against her to the PRT." Personally, I didn't think it would come to much—even with all the evidence I had, her crack about the lawyers had struck close to home—but I was willing to give it my best shot.

He had cheered up all the way again now. "Ssnek likess to help."

I gave him a scratch along the jawline, which he leaned into. "Well, I really appreciate your help. You're a good boy. Now, if you can help me watch these guys until the police arrive, that would be great."

"Ssnek can do that."

<><>​

Danny

Taylor opened the back door at eleven thirty on the dot. Danny gave up any pretense of watching the news and got up to greet her. "How'd it go?"

"It went … interesting." She stepped aside to allow Snek's nose to enter the doorway, and gave it a boop with her fist. "Thanks again for helping out, Snek."

"Ssnek likess to help," the giant snake said. "Hello, Danny."

"Hi, Snek. Thanks for keeping her safe." He gave the broad nose a scratch, which Snek seemed to enjoy. "I'd ask you to stay, but it is kind of late."

"Ssnek undersstandss. Masster will be waiting. Ssnek will ssee you again. Good night."

"Night, Snek." Danny still wasn't sure how this had become almost normal to him.

Taylor gave Snek a quick hug. "Night, Snek. You're a good boy."

"Thank you, buzzy-bug girl." Snek backed up from the doorway, then vanished into a portal.

Slowly, Danny closed the door. "How is it that having a giant snake visiting on the regular can be both weird and natural at the same time?"

Taylor pulled her mask off, then grinned as she shook her hair out. "Oh, that's better. I've got no idea. But I'm glad he was around. Tonight could've gotten a bit problematic, otherwise."

He felt his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. "Oh?"

"I'll tell you about it later, once I've processed it all." She lifted the spider pendant off her neck. It was a little on the chunky side, deliberately so. This helped conceal the electronics within. "Right now, I'm going to see what I caught on the body cam."

"You do that. I'll clean up and turn out the lights." Yawning, he headed through into the living room and flicked off the TV, while Taylor went upstairs. The custom camera had set him back more than a little, but if anything ever came down to he-said-she-said, he wanted Taylor to have footage.

He was halfway up the stairs himself when he heard her call out from her room. "Uh, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"You know the lawsuit?"

"Yeah?"

"Can Mr Howe include the PRT in it? In particular, whoever's got overwatch on the Wards?"

His eyes opened wide. "That's a very specific question. Why do you ask it?"

"I tangled with Shadow Stalker tonight. Snek snagged her mask before she went to shadow, and you'll never guess whose face I'm looking at right now."


End of Part Twelve

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Thirteen: Snek Eyes Means You Lose

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Afternoon of May 16, 2011
Offices of DC&H

Taylor

Mr Howe was a very self-controlled individual who I personally suspected could look a person over and estimate their monetary worth to within ten dollars. Throughout the entire process of gathering information for the lawsuit, he had always exuded the air of being on top of the situation at all times. I understood that giving this impression was specifically part of his job, but all the same, it had reassured me.

This was the first time I had seen him rattled. It was a surreal experience.

Pulling on a pair of white cotton gloves, he carefully lifted Shadow Stalker's mask out of the paper bag I'd been carrying it in and turned it over in his hands. "Oh, my," he murmured. "Are those electronics in the eyeholes?"

"I'm not sure," I confessed. "I'm pretty sure it's Tinkertech, and I don't want to make it break or blow up or whatever, so I haven't been poking at it."

"That is an undoubtedly wise course of action," he agreed. "While I have never met Shadow Stalker in person, I would agree without a doubt that this is a genuine article of superhero costumery." He set the mask down, then gingerly picked up the crossbow, still loaded with one of the tranquilliser arrows. I noted that his finger never went anywhere near the trigger. "Explain to me, please; how exactly did you come by these items, and what do they have to do with the case at hand?"

Dad and I glanced at each other. If we were to bring this into the main case, we would have to fill in Mr Howe on my powers and super identity. Fortunately, DC&H listed parahuman law as one of their specialties. At Dad's nod, I took a deep breath. "I am also a parahuman. Can you deal with that, or do we have to bring in someone else?"

To my relief, he took it better than being shown the mask and the crossbow. Carefully setting the weapon down, ensuring that it wasn't pointed anywhere near either of us, he interlaced his hands before him. "I am entirely capable of dealing with it, Miss Hebert. Kindly relate the story from the very beginning."

"Okay, then." I thought back, trying to decide what was relevant and what was not. "You know who Snek is, right?"

Mr Howe chuckled dryly. "Miss Hebert, I would venture to say that there are more people in the world today who know of Snek than there are who do not. I am not a fan of snakes in general, but for that particular reptile, I shall make an exception. Please, go on."

"Okay. Well, I've gone out in costume with him a couple of times, and he came by last night. We spotted some muggers threatening a bunch of girls, so I decided to intervene …"

Gradually, I led him through the events of that evening until we got to the point where Shadow Stalker escaped without her mask. In the process of this, of course, I had to explain that I went by the name of Lady Swarm. He accepted all this without a qualm, jotting down the occasional note.

"Very interesting," he said at the end. "You acquitted yourself well, I think. And you say that your body-cam recorded Shadow Stalker's face after Snek took her mask but before she fled, and upon examination of the footage, you discovered her to be one of your tormentors?"

"I did, yeah," I said. "Do you want to see?"

He held up both hands hastily. "Ah, no," he said, his tone apologetic. "While I am permitted to act on behalf of those parahumans who willingly reveal their identities to me, that is one thing. If a known hero's powered identity is revealed to me without their knowledge, I may not make any use of that information unless specifically empowered to do so by the Parahuman Response Teams."

"But she's not a hero," I said quickly. "Not acting the way she does."

Mr Howe tilted his head in acknowledgement. "True, but the public perception of her is that she is one," he reminded me. "We have to prove otherwise, remember?"

Dad nodded, as though he'd half-expected this. "So, before we can fold this into the current case, we have to go talk to the PRT anyway? The people that Shadow Stalker more or less works for?"

"That is the situation in a nutshell, yes," Mr Howe agreed. "I agree that it would appear to be a system ripe for coverups and brushing such matters under the rug. In fact, a more cynical person than myself might even venture to suggest that it was set up that way in the first place on purpose. However, your course is clear; this needs to be taken to Director Piggot, to see if she can handle that matter in-house before we add it to the ongoing case."

"And if she stonewalls us, or tries to brush the whole thing under the rug, as you put it?" Dad and Mr Howe aside, I didn't have a great opinion of authority figures.

"Then we open a second lawsuit," Mr Howe explained. "One to be held behind closed doors, citing the PRT for criminal negligence in allowing Shadow Stalker to carry out her delinquent activities when she should by rights be under constant supervision." He paused at our looks of surprise. "Oh, didn't you know? She was considered to be a dangerous vigilante, and it was only due to someone speaking up for her at a legal hearing that she was shunted sideways into the Wards rather than remanded to juvenile detention."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, that's a miscarriage of justice if I ever heard of one."

Dad had an intent look in his eyes. "Who spoke up for her?"

Mr Howe grimaced. "I would tell you if I could, Mr Hebert, but that risks delving into the specifics of a case that has little bearing on this one."

That was when I had my epiphany. "I bet I know," I said quietly. "If I say a name and it's not the person, can you shake your head, please?"

"Just one name, please," Mr Howe decided. "This is edging into legally dubious territory as it is."

I nodded. "Sure. Alan Barnes."

Mr Howe locked his gaze on mine, and did not shake his head.

"Son of a bitch," whispered Dad. "Taylor, how did you know?"

"She's been hanging out with Emma all this time, and who better to give her a glowing character reference than a lawyer who has a reason to help her out, such as her best friend's dad?" I shrugged. "As soon as I thought of it, it made perfect sense to me."

Dad nodded. "It does. It really does. Once this lawsuit is done with, I'm going to be asking Alan some very stringent questions."

"As is your right," agreed Mr Howe. "But until then, we have other matters to deal with. Allow me to suggest ways and means to approach Director Piggot on the Shadow Stalker situation …"

<><>​

At That Moment
Elsewhere in the United States

Butcher

"Hey, Butcher," jibed Spree. "You hear about that giant snake killing an Endbringer? I thought those things were unkillable."

"Only 'cause I never tried killing one," Butcher boasted. "Not worth it."

"Not worth it?" Hemorrhagia finished off her beer and belched. "Damn, girl. You need to fix your priorities. If we offed an Endbringer, they'd be serving us all the pussy, dick and cash we wanted on a silver platter. Not worth it, my ass."

"But we can take all that, any time we want," insisted Butcher. "Endbringers are just doin' their own thing, like we are. I don't fuck with them, they don't fuck with me."

"Well, that snake certainly fucked with them." Vex used a couple of her force fields to slice meat off the leg of ham she was holding. "Chowed down on Leviathan like a Christmas turkey."

Animos nudged Reaver in a 'watch this' manner. "Hey, Butcher? I bet you can't kill the snake."

"Yeah," chimed in Reaver. "Just wouldn't be worth it. It'd piss off too many people. Besides, he's way too tough. I mean, I wouldn't blame you for backing off."

The crunch as Butcher's beer can crumpled in her suddenly clenched fist was drowned out by the fssss as the beer in it sprayed across the room. Slowly, Butcher sat up and looked around. "Fuckin' what did you just say to me?"

"Ah, nothing, nothing," Reaver claimed, affecting innocence in the whole matter. "Just shootin' the breeze, is all."

"Yeah," Animos added. "I mean, you wouldn't really want the hassle, would you? Besides, I mean, fuck, the thing's gotta be sixty foot long."

Butcher gave them both an extremely unimpressed look. "Don't think I don't know what you two clowns are up to," she growled. "You're full of shit, both of you."

"You're totally right. You're absolutely right," Animos assured her. "But you know, I was just thinking about its teeth."

"Oh, hell yes," agreed Reaver. "Some of those are as long as your damn arm. Can you imagine how much more badass we'd look with some of those fangs hanging off us?"

Butcher opened her mouth, paused, then closed it again. "Let me see that fuckin' wannabe sock-puppet again."

"Here." Reaver had his phone open, and was calling up one of the many images of Snek with his mouth open. "Look at those things, huh?"

The teeth on the giant snake were indeed impressive, and Butcher thought about it. In the back of her head, a few voices counselled caution, but were shouted down by the rest. The consensus was almost unanimous. It's just an overgrown garter snake. We can take it.

"Okay, fine," she conceded. "Let's go snake hunting. But I get first crack."

Animos and Reaver shared a high-five. "Fuck yes."

<><>​

Saturday, May 21, 2011
PRT Building

Taylor

It felt weird to be walking down the sidewalk in broad daylight, wearing my Lady Swarm costume. The Saturday morning foot traffic around the PRT building gave me looks ranging from 'shit, it's a cape' to 'okay, it's a cape, but which one?'. I had vaguely hoped that someone would give me a sign of recognition, but it seemed the public was still in the dark about Lady Swarm.

If I felt weird, Dad had to be undergoing an even more surreal experience, as he was currently wearing a jacket that gave him considerably more bulk than normal, and a cloth mask over his eyes. There was no way he wasn't going to be at the meeting with Director Piggot, and if he came undisguised, it would be too easy to derive my identity from his. I couldn't discount the possibility that the PRT had other means of figuring out who I was, but there was no sense in making it easy for them.

Mr Howe, the third member of our little group, wore neither disguise nor mask. He knew my identity and Dad's as well, but even if the Director herself asked him who we really were, he was legally permitted (and required, unless we gave permission) to politely tell her to go to hell. Of the three of us, he seemed to be the most at ease, which meant that either his career had put him in some odd situations … or he was just really good at acting.

We approached the front doors, which slid aside smoothly to allow us entry. Mr Howe took point immediately, giving the guards a genial smile and approaching the reception desk. "Good morning," he greeted the lady behind the desk. "I'm Harold Howe, of DC&H. I believe my clients and I have an appointment with your Director in approximately twenty minutes?"

From the way her eyes widened, she knew the name of Mr Howe's firm. It wasn't a happy widening, which meant DC&H had history with the PRT, possibly on the other side of contentious lawsuits. I wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing, but at the very least we definitely had their attention now.

"Let me just check on that," she said, typing something into her terminal. "A few issues have come up today, and the Director may not be immediately available … ah."

Mr Howe raised his eyebrows. "Young lady, I do hope that is an optimistic 'ah'. If Director Piggot has decided to duck out of this appointment so as to avoid a problematic encounter with me, her wish will in no way be granted."

"No, no," the receptionist said hastily. "It looks like she knew she'd be busy, so she arranged for Deputy Director Renick to take the appointment in her stead."

"Hm." Mr Howe seemed to consider that. "We shall see how that goes."

With a look of relief on her face, the receptionist nodded. "Would you like to go up, sir?"

<><>​

PRT Building, Conference Room A

Danny

The room was spacious, with a table large enough to seat maybe twenty people. Moreover, the chairs were actually comfortable. At one end was an impressively large wall-screen, while one side wall was taken up with a gigantic whiteboard. Mr Howe seemed to be content to go through his notes for the meeting, but Taylor kept stealing glances around the room. Interestingly enough, she was almost entirely ignoring the PRT guard who had accompanied them up in the elevator and was now standing near the door.

"Everything okay?" asked Danny, leaning in toward her. He lowered his voice for the question, but had no doubt the guard heard him anyway; the sound quality in here was amazing.

"Oh, sure," she said, keeping her voice down as well. "I was just counting the cameras. Six, if you're interested. And two extra microphones."

"Really?" asked Mr Howe, looking around. "I was always curious about that. One imagines that they would not build a room like this without cameras, but my eyes are not as good as they once were."

Danny had other issues in mind. "Are they live? Are we being recorded right now?"

Taylor didn't hesitate. "They're live, yes. Recorded? I can't tell."

"Well, that's good enough for me." Danny nodded to the body-cam Taylor was wearing. "Turn that on. If they're going to record us, then we're going to record them."

"Right." Taylor fiddled with it; given the entire lack of background noise in the room, the tiny click was clearly audible. "Recording."

Mr Howe raised his head. "I'm curious. How can you tell that they're live?"

"Static electricity and magnetic fields," Taylor said at once. "Some bugs are sensitive to that sort of thing." She paused. "I could mess with them if you liked. Make sure that all they see and hear are bug butts and buzzing wings."

"As tempting as that is … perhaps not. At least not today." Mr Howe glanced at the guard. "We don't want to start this meeting off on an adversarial note."

Danny nodded. "Let's extend the Deputy Director the courtesy of believing that he's going to be acting in good faith today, and do the same." He, too, looked at the guard. "Where is he, anyway? It's been nearly twenty minutes."

"There's three people coming right now," Taylor said. "Two are in costume, one's not."

True to her word, the door clicked open about fifteen seconds later. A man Danny assumed to be Deputy Director Renick—tall, greying, careworn—entered, followed by a costumed young man in a lion's head mask and another in a rust-red costume with silver highlights and a shield on his chest. The latter pair he recognised: Triumph and Aegis.

Instinctively, Danny stood, along with Howe. It wasn't so much deference as a little harmless courtesy. Taylor followed suit, a moment later.

"Good morning, lady and gentlemen." Renick went to the head of the table and took a seat there. "Please, sit." He gestured to the two capes with him, and they went to the far side of the table.

Mr Howe got himself settled again and beamed at their host. "Deputy Director, good to see you again."

"Mr Howe. I hope I'll be able to say the same about this meeting. You were somewhat vague, mentioning a problematic Ward …?" Renick let the question hang in the air.

"Yes, I did. But first, allow me to get the introductions out of the way." Mr Howe gestured to Taylor. "This is Lady Swarm; she's been on the news once or twice. And this gentleman is here on behalf of Lady Swarm, and can be referred to as John Doe."

"Ah." Renick gave Taylor a friendly nod. "Always happy to meet a new hero in the city. Has anyone suggested yet that you join the Wards?"

"We discussed it," Danny said firmly. "And we decided that it wasn't for her."

Renick looked a little taken aback by his no-nonsense tone. No doubt his experience was more along the lines of parents trying to convince their kids to join. "Thank you, Mr Doe. Any particular reason for that?"

"Yeah." Taylor kept her voice level. "Several. A couple of which also count as our reasons for being here today." She gave Renick a nod in return, given that he was unable to see her expression. "So, did we want to get this started?"

"Certainly," agreed Renick. "Just as a side note, Triumph is here as an obligatory member of the Protectorate for meetings like this, and Aegis is the current leader of the Wards."

"Understood." Mr Howe cleared his throat. "So, to commence. My client, Lady Swarm, was out on patrol on the evening of the fifteenth, and she encountered Shadow Stalker while in the process of saving a group of ladies from some muggers. Specifically, it was Lady Swarm doing the saving. Shadow Stalker was observing and doing nothing." He paused expectantly.

Aegis went to speak, then stopped and held up a finger. "Uh … can I say something?"

"You may," Mr Howe said graciously.

"Thank you. Shadow Stalker is kind of … well, I've never known her to back down from a fight. Just saying. Triumph?"

"Me neither." The young man, even when not using his power, had a deep and resonant voice. "She's very much a go-getter. Standing back and doing nothing doesn't sound like her at all."

"Thank you for those observations," Renick said, clearly pleased at the way the capes were defending their teammate. "What happened next?"

Mr Howe nodded in acknowledgement. "After Lady Swarm had subdued the muggers and sent fireflies to lead the ladies to safety, she invited Shadow Stalker—whose presence she'd already noted—down into the alley to talk to her. Shadow Stalker came down and immediately began shooting the subdued and bound muggers with what I presume were tranquilliser arrows from her crossbows. Lady Swarm protested this, and an argument developed." He raised his eyebrows. "Those are tranquilliser arrows, yes?"

"To the best of my knowledge," agreed Renick. "Aegis?"

The young hero nodded. "She uses tranquillisers, yes, sir."

"Good. We are once more on the same page." Mr Howe smiled. "During the course of the argument, Shadow Stalker made several statements and performed actions which call into question her status as a hero. Specifically, she said she was delaying the rescue to see if the victims would fight back; that she was going to claim the entire bust as her own because as a Ward she was untouchable; and that the lawyers available to the PRT would bury Lady Swarm if she tried to allege anything different. During this time, she directly threatened Lady Swarm with her crossbow."

"That's … a series of very damaging allegations." The statement from Renick sounded almost reflexive. "While I have nothing against you, young lady, do you have anything to back that up?"

"Aside from my unsupported word?" Taylor picked up the shopping bag she'd been carrying when she came in. "Because I'm pretty sure you'd accept hers. But okay, here, have some proof. You see, I wasn't out and about on my own. I was with Snek. He took this from her just as she was about to shoot me with it." She took the crossbow out and placed it on the table, making an audible clunk. As with the time Mr Howe had handled it, she made sure not to point it at anyone. The sudden inhalation from Renick and both capes should have been amusing, but neither she nor Danny were smiling. "And then, when he said he was going to put her in a cell for Director Piggot to deal with, she made a run for it, but not before he snagged this." The mask followed the crossbow onto the table.

Aegis' eyes were wide behind his helmet visor. "That is not the story she told about how she lost those things."

"Those are Shadow Stalker's, then? There's no doubt about it?" Renick suddenly sounded much less sure of himself.

"Short of actually taking them into Kid Win's lab and disassembling them, I believe so, sir." Triumph was just as taken aback. "I'd know them anywhere."

"Well, is Shadow Stalker in the building?" the Deputy Director asked. "I very much want to hear her side of this."

From the tone of his voice, so did Aegis. "She's on console duty," he reported. "She claimed to have been ambushed and beaten up when she lost the crossbow and mask, and she's been limping ever since, so I've had her on light duties."

"I see." Renick turned to the guard at the door. "Send word to have Shadow Stalker attend this meeting, as soon as possible," he ordered. "No other details than that."

"No weapons, please," interjected Mr Howe. "I would very much rather not find out what those tranquilliser arrows feel like first-hand."

The guard turned his helmet toward Renick, and he nodded. "Definitely no weapons."

"Yes, sir." The guard began mumbling into his radio.

<><>​

Taylor

I knew it would only be a few minutes before Shadow Stalker arrived, but time seemed to stretch on interminably. Dad put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a companionable squeeze, which served to calm my nerves somewhat. No squads of armoured PRT troopers seemed to be rushing through the corridors toward us, which seemed to be a good sign.

And then my bugs spotted her, stepping out of the elevator on our level. Even with their crappy eyesight and hearing, there was no mistaking the proud stance and the angry walk, especially when I added in my knowledge of Sophia Hess. But she wasn't coming to us as Sophia. With what I had to assume was a brand-new mask (and probably crossbows, elsewhere) she was all Shadow Stalker right now.

"She just got out of the elevator," I announced for the benefit of everyone else in the room.

Triumph and Aegis, who had been conferring in low tones, sat up and stared at me. Deputy Director Renick also raised his eyebrows. "I thought you were an insect-centric Master, not a Thinker?"

I shrugged. "I control bugs. Bugs go everywhere. Their sight and hearing is crap, but I can usually put together a picture when I want to."

"I … see." He seemed about to say more, but right then the door opened and Shadow Stalker stomped in. The limp Aegis had alluded to seemed to have mysteriously vanished.

"Okay, I'm here," she announced. "What's the big—holy shit! You!" Dramatically, she pointed at where I sat with the mask and crossbow in front of me. "That's her! That's the one who ambushed me and kicked the shit out of me! Fuckin' arrest her already!"

"Oh, come on," I said derisively. "I never laid a hand on you, and you know it."

"Shadow Stalker," Deputy Director Renick stated firmly. "Lady Swarm here has made severe allegations regarding your conduct on the night that you lost your crossbow and your mask. Would you like to revisit your statement about that night?"

I thought I saw, through the eyeholes of her mask, a hunted expression. But even if she was indeed feeling pressured, she was a damn good actor. "Hell no, sir. Whatever she says, she's lying. She ambushed me and stole my stuff."

Mr Howe cleared his throat. "If I may, Deputy Director?" Reaching into his briefcase, he brought out a thumb drive. "I assure you, it is clear of any malware."

Renick gave him an austere smile as he took the drive. "I accept your assurance, but the regulations state that the room will be isolated from the rest of the building while playing media from outside the PRT. Let's see now …"

Reaching under the table, he must have plugged the drive in somewhere, because the screen at the far end of the room came to life. A few clicks and taps from Renick's end brought up the video, starting from when Snek and I had first noticed the mugging, and I'd told him to hang back. Even then, Shadow Stalker had been visible on the rooftop.

The camera on the faux pendant was good quality, and even in the low-light environment it got a sharp picture. Everyone else watched as the footage rolled through; I was more interested in keeping an eye on Shadow Stalker with my bugs. I didn't give a damn if she made a bolt for it, because that would immediately put her on the PRT's radar. But if she tried to hurt me and got Dad instead, I would have no mercy whatsoever.

It stopped just at the point where Snek scored her mask, leaving the exposure of her face ambiguous. There was a clear shot of her just a couple of frames on, but I didn't want to have that debate right now. Nobody there seemed to remark on it, which was good. Instead, Deputy Director Renick turned to Shadow Stalker, who had to be sweating bullets right now.

"Very well. The evidence does seem to be conclusive. What do you have to say for yourself?"

From my point of view, Shadow Stalker had two options: either to confess, or to make a run for it. She did neither. Pointing at me dramatically, she declared, "She's lying. Where did she get the footage from? It had to be computer generated."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, come on. I'm wearing a body cam. For crying out loud, stop lying."

Adamant, she shook her head. "You're the one who's lying. I'm being framed here." The sheer amount of chutzpah it took for her to deny the evidence before her eyes was breathtaking. If I didn't know for a fact that she was bullshitting as hard as she could, I would've been taken in.

Somewhere deep inside, I'd figured that bringing the evidence, both physical and digital, would be the end of it. I knew that Renick had believed me, but the rock-solid assurance in Shadow Stalker's tone was shaking that belief ever so slightly. He looked over at her. "So, what's your side of the story, Shadow Stalker? How did your encounter with Snek go?"

I tried not to let the frustration well up inside me. They were actually going to listen to her bullshit? Her casual dismissal of my body cam as evidence? What did I need to have in order for them to just accept what I had to say?

"Hah, he wasn't even there," she said boldly, angering me even more. "Why would something as powerful as that even go near someone like Lady Swarm? He's a hero. She's not."

"Snek. Was. There," I gritted, trying not to shout.

She sneered at me. "Prove it."

There was a thump-thump-thump on the doors. Puzzled, Renick glanced in that direction, and gestured for the guard to open them. When he did, Snek poured himself in through the open doorway, smiling as broadly as he ever did. He still wore his cute little hat.

"Hello, buzzy-bug girl!" he said happily. "Hello, buzzy-bug girl father. Hello, sshadow girl. Ssnek hass come to help."

"Hi, Snek!" I got up and went around the table to give him a skritch behind the jaw, just where he liked it. As I did, I noted that Shadow Stalker had backed all the way off. "It's good to see you."

"Iss good to ssee you too, buzzy-bug girl. Masster sspell tell Ssnek you need help. How can Ssnek help?"

"Oh, wow." He'd come here just to help me out? Snek really was a good boy. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Ssnek iss eating bad men. Chassing Butcher. Will catch anyway. Head sstart makess more fun. Ssnek help?"

"Ah, yeah." I gestured to Deputy Director Renick. "This is Mr Renick. He's shadow girl's boss. Can you tell him what happened when we met shadow girl?"

"Ssnek can do that." He turned his immense head toward Renick. "Hello, misster Renick. Ssnek iss with buzzy-bug girl when sseess bad men with ladiess. Alsso sseess sshadow girl sitting on roof, not helping. Buzzy-bug girl sstopss bad men, helpss ladiess. Sshadow girl comess down, sshootss bad men with twang-arrow weapon, buzzy-bug girl sstopss her. Sshadow girl pointss twang-arrow weapon at buzzy-bug girl. Ssnek takess weapon, putss in not-eat place. Ssnek deccidess that sshadow girl iss bad persson, belongss in ccell, but sshadow girl runss away. Ssnek getss massk before sshe goess."

The Deputy Director blinked. "Well … that does seem kind of straightforward. Shadow Stalker?"

"He's lying!" she blurted desperately. "They're all lying!"

"I really don't think Snek knows how to lie," I said. "I mean, just look at this face." I gestured at Snek's broad, honest visage. "Is that the face of a liar?"

Snek suddenly blurred forward, twisting as he went. There was a snap and a cut-off yelp from Shadow Stalker as Snek's head disappeared into another portal. Then he pulled back, minus Shadow Stalker, looking rather pleased with himself.

"… what?" asked Aegis. "What happened? Where did she go?"

"Ssnek ssmelled sshadow girl wass about to run, sso Ssnek put her in prisson ccell for misster Renick and blue ssuit lady," explained the giant snake in a rather matter of fact tone. "Sshe ran one time, but not two timess."

"Oh. Right." Renick blinked and shook his head. "I suppose that will definitely have to do."

"Doess buzzy-bug girl need more help?" Snek looked up at me. "Bad men sstill to chasse. Iss fun."

"Ah," said Triumph. "If you're fighting Butcher, don't kill her, please. Killing her means she infects other people with what makes her bad."

Snek nodded. "Ssnek will remember. Will take to Masster to fix. Thank you, cat head boy. Goodbye, buzzy-bug girl, buzzy-bug girl father."

"Bye, Snek," I said. "And thanks. You're a good boy." I gave him a hug, and a snoot-boop for good measure.

"Buzzy-bug girl iss welcome." Snek wriggled backward out of the room, then pulled the door shut with his multi-branching tongue.

Cautiously, the guard opened it again and peered out. "It's gone," he reported.

"Yeah, he does that." I dusted my hands off. "So, are we done here?"

Deputy Director Renick shared a resigned look with Mr Howe. "Yes. I suppose we are."

And so, I knew, was Sophia Hess.



End of Part Thirteen

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Fourteen: Snek versus Butcher

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


Snek has been having fun.

Snek went to world with sharp-tooth lizards and played chase games with them. Big-tooth lizard tried to eat sharp-tooth lizard, so Snek ate big-tooth lizard. Sharp-tooth lizards very happy.

Now Snek thinks Mouse would like to meet sharp-tooth lizards, so he makes wriggle-hole to go to Mouse world. He knows Mouse is nearby, and starts to look for her. Mouse is always happy to see Snek. Snek is always happy to see Mouse, too. Mouse is Snek's friend.

As Snek is looking for Mouse, Master's spell tells him that she is in trouble. Mouse is smart and fast, but there are many bad men in this world that Snek has not yet eaten. He sniffs for Mouse and finds her scent, then smells others around her. Bad men are not allowed to hurt Mouse.

Snek is a good boy.

Snek will help Mouse.

<><>​

A Small Town Near Brockton Bay

Mouse Protector

How do I keep getting in these situations?

Oh, wait. Because I go looking for them.

Diane slashed her sword across Reaver's calf muscle, then stabbed him in the arm just before he would've caught his weight on it, causing him to dramatically faceplant. A cloud of tiny sharp force fields closed in around her, threatening to slide in through the gaps in her armour, so she teleported to one of her marks. Scooping up the small rubber puck—she'd started using these after Leviathan—she renewed the mark, then tossed it up onto a nearby rooftop.

The teleport gave her a small breathing space, which was good. While she wasn't in nearly as fraught a position as she'd been in when Snek rescued her from the Slaughterhouse Nine, it was still a good idea not to take her eye off the ball. Reaver was out of the fight for the moment, but that still left the rest of Butcher's personal cadre of assholes to contend with.

It wasn't as though she'd picked this fight to begin with; she'd just been in the area when the police bands started screaming about the Teeth attacking people at random. As she'd always contended, it was up to people like her to protect the mice of the world, human and otherwise. So she'd armoured up and gone looking for them, hoping to be able to occupy their attention until any other heroes in the vicinity deigned to show up and help drive them off.

Well, nobody can deny that I got their attention. As for the other half of the plan, where she enlisted another hero's assistance to drive them off, she was still working on that bit. But if she could disable a few more of them, maybe they'd decide to retreat all on their own. It was a possibility, anyway.

With a boom and a blast of flame that sent Diane tumbling out of the way, Butcher pulled off her own personal brand of teleportation. Personally, Diane thought it was way too overwrought; teleportation was flashy enough as it was without having some attention-seeking glory hound adding to it by tacking on an explosive blast. In fact, Butcher couldn't get much more on the nose if she tried.

Not that Diane wanted to take her on, either at range or in hand to hand. Due to the lineup of capes who had gone through the Butcher name, the arrogant villain had access to all the good powers. Fighting her in melee was a losing proposition, due to her Brute-level durability and strength; those that could match her in those matters would find it impossible to pin her down, because of the teleport capability.

At range, it was worse, because not only did she possess a danger sense of sorts, but she had access to a bunch of ranged attack powers, up to and including the ability to sense the cardiovascular systems of her opponents and target them unerringly—even through walls—with the minigun she carried. Which Diane considered to be the highest form of cheating. (As someone who cheated in combat all the time, she figured she was an expert on the matter).

She couldn't help wondering, though, what moron considered it a good idea to sell ammunition to the Butcher. A belt of the gleaming cartridges led up and over Butcher's shoulder, disappearing into her bulky backpack, along with a black insulated cable. Diane guessed that the cable was for the gun's battery, while the rest of the pack had to be stuffed full of bullets. No mundane human would be able to heft that sheer mass, much less the multi-barrelled gun attached to it.

Still, all she had to do was—

Pain lanced through her body. Unable to concentrate on her plan of teleporting away, Diane went to one knee. The barrels began to spin, faster and faster, as the gun angled around toward her. Her armour would probably fend off the first burst, but if Butcher got the idea to literally rip her out of it, there wouldn't be much she could do about it. Unless, and she had to pin her hopes on this, Butcher let up on the pain infliction power first.

By the time she realised Animos was on site as well, it was too late. His scream washed over her, draining her powers away so she couldn't teleport even if Butcher did let up on the pain. Well, crap. I'm going to die here, to an ensemble supervillain and a wannabe werewolf.

"Bad sspike lady!" Snek's voice was the most welcome sound Diane had ever heard, and that was saying something. "No hurt Mouss!" Barrelling out of a portal, he went straight on the offensive and wrapped up Butcher (gun and all) in an implacable embrace. "Ssnek eatss bad men for that! Bad lady no different!"

The agony let up immediately, which Diane could understand. Being enfolded by that enormously strong body, immunity to pain notwithstanding, would be highly distracting and terrible for concentration. She was still powerless—Animos' scream had a reasonable duration on it—but at least Snek was here now.

There was a metallic crunching and then an explosive burst of flame; Butcher had (of course) teleported away, once she realised she couldn't get out of Snek's coils. Almost immediately, Animos unleashed his scream in Snek's direction. Snek looked around curiously at him. "Hello, sshouting doggy," he said happily. "Ssnek like doggy. Doggy makess good ssnack."

That was apparently when Animos realised his mistake, but by then it was far, far too late. Snek could move very quickly indeed when he wanted to. The wolf-like cape began to turn away, only to run head-first into … Snek.

As had happened to Butcher, the gigantic serpent wrapped his body around Animos and squeezed. There was time for a very brief scream, and the crackling of snapping bones. Diane knew the exact moment when Animos died, because her powers came back. She looked away as Snek began to ingest the dead Changer, because while Animos had been a bad person and all that, it was still creepy to watch someone being eaten.

"Iss Mouss alright?" asked Snek after a short interval. "Not hurt?"

"I'm good now, Snek." She smiled as she gave him a hug. "You're really good at that last-minute rescue thing. I should be taking notes."

"Ssnek iss happy to help Mouss. Will go find exssplodey sspike lady and otherss."

"I'll help." She felt it was important to make sure Snek knew what was going on. "Explodey spike lady is called Butcher. Her gang is called the Teeth. They're all very bad people." Though she was totally calling Butcher 'explodey spike lady' to her face if she got the chance. Snek's naming scheme was just adorable.

"Ssnek undersstandss," the enormous reptile replied seriously. "Sshould Ssnek put them in prisson ccell, or jusst eat them? Ssnek hass eaten big-tooth lizard and iss not feeling very hungry."

"Putting Butcher in a prison cell wouldn't really work," Diane mused. "She'd simply teleport straight out again. Though we don't want to just—"

She meant to say kill her, but she was rudely interrupted by a huge arrow, at least four feet in length, that came up over a nearby building. It should have gone far over their heads, but as Diane watched, its path curved dramatically, aiming it straight toward the two of them. Crossing the distance in an instant, it hit her armour right over her heart … and shattered.

Welp, it looks like the Master's protection against sucker punches still works just fine. Not that Diane was the least bit surprised. Snek's boss gave the distinct impression that anything he enchanted stayed enchanted.

"Butcher sshoot twang-arrow?" asked Snek, looking in that direction.

Diane nodded. "I'm pretty sure you broke her gun when you gave her your patented snuggly-hug, so yeah, that would be her practicing archery on us."

As if to confirm her words, another arrow came arcing up over the building. This was followed by another one; as soon as the second one came into view, both corrected their courses. Diane could tell that both were aiming directly at Snek this time. She'd just opened her mouth to shout a warning when Snek's head blurred to the left and right, faster than her eyes could follow, accompanied by a snapsnap. Snek turned toward her, smiling his Snekky smile, with the fletchings of the arrows protruding from each side of his mouth.

"Butcher iss bad persson," he said as his tongue conveyed the arrows to the back of his mouth. Diane had an idea that he had some way of keeping things safe back there (as he had with Bonesaw) but she didn't quite feel confident about asking for details. "Ssnek will go catch her." Opening a portal in front of him, he slithered into it with his usual fluid rapidity.

"Yeah," Diane murmured as she pulled out another puck and marked it, then tossed it into a shadowed niche. "You go do that, Snek."

Her plan for another hero had come through in spades after all, though she hadn't expected her knight in Snekky armour to show up quite as dramatically as he had. With Butcher's attention entirely taken up with avoiding Snek (not that she could do that for long) Diane now had free rein to go after the remainder of this contingent of the Teeth. That much, she figured, she could handle.

Humming a tune which may or may not have featured on The Mouse Protector Show, she strode off in search of miscreants to beat up in her own inimitable style.

<><>​

Butcher

What the hell is that thing?

Well, clearly it's the snake.

I know it's the snake, dumbass. How is it doing what it's doing?

I don't know. Maybe snakes react differently?

The cape who had once been known as Quarrel did her best to ignore the infighting going on in the back of her mind. Butchers I and IV were particularly aggrieved, as their signature attacks—pain and festering wounds, respectively—came to nothing on the gigantic snake. She herself was more than a little peeved that she'd shot an arrow at Mouse Protector and gotten no effect, even though it should've gone through anything short of an inch-thick steel plate. But even that was nothing beside the fact that the snake had caught the next two arrows in its mouth, and apparently eaten them.

Not being affected at all is not the same as 'reacting differently'!

Well, we've got other powers! Find one that will affect it!

Her danger sense flaring, she dived aside from a gaping-mouthed lunge. Arrows scattered from her quiver as she performed an unplanned shoulder-roll. Large and no doubt very sharp teeth clashed together just short of her heels; she scrambled to her feet and bolted. Rage did not seem to be the best idea to inflict it with, given that it was already trying to kill her.

Why couldn't you have come to the party with the ability to reduce someone's anger? she mentally yelled at Butcher IX's shade. That might've been useful!

We're the fucking Butcher! he bellowed back. We don't do de-escalation!

Well, maybe we should've taken the time to fucking learn! She dived aside from another strike by the snake, then teleported as far away as she could. That she was abandoning the rest of the team was clear to her, but she consoled herself with the knowledge that they'd do exactly the same to her if the situation was reversed. Serves them right. They shouldn't have talked me into this.

She paused, looking around, waiting for the snake to emerge from one of those damned portals. How did a giant snake get to learn how to teleport, anyway?

Probably the same place it learned how to talk, snarked Butcher III.

Shut the fuck up.

In the distance, she heard a scream as Spree (she guessed) got taken down by that damned joke hero. Fighting Mouse Protector would've been more satisfying if she took the hero-villain thing more seriously. As it was, no villain wanted to go near her, because all she did was throw cheesy puns while beating the crap out of them.

The snake still hadn't popped its head out of a portal yet, but she wasn't fooled. The instant she targeted Mouse Protector again, it would return. And unlike a few members of her crew, she knew damn well when something was too dangerous to take on.

The worst bit was, the minigun was utterly fucking wrecked. She knew enough to do basic maintenance on it, but all the barrels were bent, mainly from being crushed against her body when it started to squeeze her. It was then that she'd discovered the hard way that the snake was definitely stronger than her, by a long way; even her best efforts had done zip and zero to prevent it from constricting its coils, slowly and steadily.

It was clear to her that the current crew was a dead loss (and in Animos' case, she suspected that was not a figure of speech). With the snake assisting Mouse Protector, there was nothing she could do to chase the idiot hero away, and the Teeth had shown themselves entirely incapable of dealing with just Mouse Protector, much less her and the snake together.

Fortunately, she'd kept the van keys on her, and the vehicle itself wasn't all that far away. She didn't want to attract its attention with another teleport-burst, so she started walking in that direction, discarding some of her paraphernalia along the way. The skulls had been crushed and a lot of her spikes bent into uselessness, so she threw them away. All I have to do is get to the van and I'm out of here.

Predictably, as soon as some of the Butchers realised her plan, they started protesting.

Hey, where are you going? You've got a snake to kill!

Fuck that, she shot back. My best shot couldn't touch it.

You're just not trying hard enough, jeered Butcher V.

We're Butchers! another one yelled at her. We kill or we die! No middle ground!

Yeah, right. No Butcher had ever gone into a fight hoping or expecting to die, except maybe Butcher III, and he hadn't been in his right mind at the time. I don't do suicide missions.

You're making the Butcher name look bad!

I don't give a damn.

Go back there and kill it!

She gritted her teeth. As much as she hated to run away, she knew it was the smart thing to do. It ate Leviathan. Not just fought. Not just beat. Not just killed. Ate. And I'm pretty sure it did the same with Animos. I don't want to be next on the menu.

So what if you are? Butcher X didn't seem to give a damn. We'd be rockin' a sixty-foot snake after that. Nobody but nobody would mess with us.

Not. Gonna. Happen.

She was almost at the van by now, the keys already in her hand. Where the snake was, she wasn't certain, but so long as it wasn't in her face she was happy. Maybe it had gone back to help out Mouse Protector?

Whatever; she didn't care. She hustled toward the van, slid the key into the door, and unlocked it. The door hinges creaked as she opened it … and right about then, just as her danger sense flared, she felt the breath on the back of her neck.

"Hello, Butcher," the snake said, from right behind her. "It hass been fun chassing you."

Closing her eyes, she leaned against the side of the van. I guess you guys win after all. "You gonna eat me now?"

"Cat head boy ssayss not to kill Butcher, sso Ssnek will not. Ssnek will take to Masster insstead. Masster will fix. Masster iss very ssmart."

She was still fixating on the 'cat head boy' part of his reply, and hadn't even gotten around to processing the 'Masster will fix' bit, when he struck. He was so fast, she barely felt his jaws closing around her.

<><>​

The Master's Apprentice

Riley leaned against a bench and watched the process with utter fascination. The Master of the Castle had allowed her to keep her powers, merely reversing the utter hatchet job Jack Slash had done to her psyche, but with Noelle and the others he'd gone deeper. However, even with Noelle it had been (as far as she could tell) not unlike extracting a particularly stubborn tumour. With Noelle's friends, removing their powers had been almost routine, with no complications.

There was a reason Jack Slash had never killed the Butcher, despite the Nine having virtually wiped out the Teeth once upon a time, back before she'd been kidnapped/recruited. It wasn't that he couldn't, but more that he knew the consequences of doing so. No cape with any kind of common sense wanted to have a dozen or more insanity-inducing voices hectoring them at every hour of night and day.

But now … the woman who was the current holder of the title lay back on the preparation table, unrestrained yet unable to move. Standing over her, the Master of the Castle held a pair of filigree tongs constructed of silver, the essence of midnight and the fleeting thoughts of a trapdoor spider.

Riley had seen what this world called a 'trapdoor spider', and decided she preferred Earth Bet's version; that type only bit people.

"The next jar, if you please, Riley."

"Coming right up, boss." Carefully, Riley picked up the heavy container—lead crystal wasn't light, especially enchanted lead crystal—and carried it over to where the Master stood. Placing it on the table at his elbow, she lifted the ensorcelled cover, remembering to first recite the phrase of unlocking in her head. Without that, it would have remained fixed in place as though welded to the jar.

"Thank you, Riley." The Master lifted the tongs, within which a thing of light and shade writhed and struggled uselessly. He deftly deposited it within the jar, and she replaced the lid just as quickly.

"No problem." Taking up the now-occupied jar, she carried it over to align it with its fellows; seven so far, and counting. Within each one, a webwork of colour shifted and changed; she got the impression of indignant protest. From what she understood, they'd been bad people before they became a part of Butcher, so it wasn't her problem what happened to them now. Except for the third one, but the Master would probably figure something out there too.

She took up her position beside the bench once more, watching as the Master used the tongs to probe the space around Butcher's head, winding in the threads of her power. He had remarked to her more than once that he enjoyed the puzzles that Snek brought to him from Earth Bet. They made life that little bit more interesting. As far as she was concerned, Butcher had been more like a terrifying menace than an intriguing puzzle to be solved, but that was just her point of view.

<><>​

The Villain Formerly Known as Butcher

Opening her eyes with a gasp, she tried to sit up and look around. Nothing of the sort happened. Next, she tried to reach for her teleport power, but it wasn't there. None of them were there, even the ones she had as Quarrel.

Okay, so I didn't get eaten. Either that, or being part of the Butcher conglomerate is a lot different to what I expected.

Overhead, which was all she could see right now, was a high-raftered roof with a number of esoteric items dangling from the beams. The most prominent of these was a large winged lizard, maybe twenty feet long. It looked for all the world like someone had stuffed a dragon. But dragons weren't real. Were they?

"They most certainly are," a grey-bearded man observed, stepping up alongside whatever she was lying on. "But only here. Not where you come from, except under certain circumstances."

She blinked, that being about the only conscious action she could take right then. "Wh … where am I?" Oh, good. I can talk, too. "And what happened to my powers?"

He gave her a mildly disapproving frown. "You were misusing them to a frankly impressive degree, so I added them to my collection. As for you; you have two options. First, to be returned to Earth Bet, to be judged and incarcerated for your many crimes. Second, to remain here for the rest of your life and make your way as you will, unpowered and subject to the law of this land." Something about the tone of his voice suggested that the local law was a little more robust than what she'd been used to, back home.

Still, a fresh start was a fresh start. And it was better than being eaten alive by a giant snake. Or beaten to death in gen-pop by someone who'd lost a friend or relative to the Teeth at some time. "Yeah, I think I'll stay."

His smile was more austere than friendly. "As you wish."

<><>​

Mouse Protector

The last PRT chopper was lifting off with the members of the Teeth that she had captured—Butcher's absence had made all the difference—when a portal opened and Snek slithered through. "Hello, Mouss," he said with his usual enthusiasm. "Bad men caught?"

"And bad women, too," she confirmed, and booped his snoot with her fist. "You got Butcher?"

He nodded, looking pleased. "Ssnek took Butcher to Masster. Masster fixed her, took out powerss and put them in jarss. Riley helped, and Ssnek watched. Butcher sstayed on Masster world, after."

With anyone else, Diane would've been calling bullshit. Nobody could just remove powers from someone and store them in jars like a bunch of fireflies or something. Except this was someone who had prepared magic armour in advance for her to fight Leviathan, and empowered Snek to the point that he'd nommed down on the aquatic menace like a Christmas turkey.

So instead, she nodded thoughtfully. "If it means we never have to worry about Butcher ever again, I'm down with that."

"Ssnek thinkss sso too." The gargantuan reptile rolled one gold-fringed eye up toward her. "Ssnek wass coming to assk Mouss if sshe would like to meet Ssnek's ssharp-tooth lizard friendss. Like to play chasse gamess." The hopeful tone was evident in his voice.

She sighed. For a multi-ton snake, he was altogether too good at doing puppy-dog eyes. "Sure, okay. Any friend of yours is a friend of mine." She held up one finger, causing him to pause before swooping his neck under her. "Just one condition."

"Ssnek iss lisstening."

"If your 'sharp-tooth lizard' friends decide to have a nibble of me, I will be smacking them on the nose. Just so we're clear on that."

He nodded earnestly. "Ssnek will make ssure they behave."

"Good. Then let's do this." What the hell, she decided. If she knew Snek, and she suspected she did, then in just a few moments she was going to be meeting a bunch of dinosaurs. And who'd turn down something like that?



End of Part Fourteen

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Fifteen: Pride Cometh Before

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Mouse Protector

Diane had no idea what to expect next, but that was kind of the norm with Snek. It was one of the reasons they got along so well. He was so matter-of-fact about every weird and cool thing he did while not making a big noise about it. On top of that, he was unfailingly polite, except with the people he ate. Who were, Diane was happy to say, assholes one and all.

Firmly astride his neck, she leaned forward. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's go."

"Mouss hold on." The usual portal formed in front of Snek's nose and they blurred through it.

On the other side, the terrain was heavily wooded, strongly resembling a tropical rainforest in nature. Diane looked around with considerable interest, almost sure that she'd been here before (albeit briefly) when Snek did his mad dash to get them both away from the Siberian. It was cool and green under the trees, with ferns and other types of undergrowth. Much of the plant life wasn't familiar to her, though she wasn't sure if that was because it was extinct in the modern era or if she'd just never seen it before.

"Ssharp tooth lizard world," Snek said brightly. "Iss fun placce."

"From the looks of it, and knowing you, I can see why." A flock of loudly squawking birds flew from one tree to another, though she was pretty sure each one had four wings, and teeth instead of a beak. "But I don't see your sharp tooth lizard friends."

"They are very ssneaky," Snek said, raising and half-turning his head so she could see his smile. "Iss why Ssnek likess vissiting thiss world." As he spoke, they never stopped moving, Snek slithering through the undergrowth and between the massive trees like the way had been specifically arranged for him.

And then Diane saw something dashing through the undergrowth on a parallel path; it was barely visible, a flicker of green on green. She only really caught it because of the motion, but by the time she turned her head to look, it was gone. A smile grew on her lips as she glanced to the other side and saw another flicker of green, so well camouflaged that she had to work to make it out.

"They're all around us, aren't they?" she asked.

"Mouss has good eyess," Snek confirmed. "Playing chasse game now."

"Oh, we are, are we?" On a hunch, Diane looked behind her.

Sure enough, while the pursuers on either side were falling back (Snek was absolutely powering through the rainforest) three of them had leaped up onto Snek's broad back and were running up his length toward his head. Toward her.

About four feet tall, they strongly resembled the raptors made famous by such movies as Jurassic Park and its sequels. She'd enjoyed the movies immensely, though she'd been dubious about the choice to add capes to the sequels. Seeing the team Brute grab a Tyrannosaur by the tail and use it to beat the Plotosaurus Rex over the head had been (to her, anyway) the highlight of the movie, but in her opinion, it didn't add anything to the overall plot.

These raptors, however, were feathered. Shimmering green plumage covered most of their bodies and spread out sideways from their arms, possibly to aid in balance. Their heads, however, bore flaring crests in gorgeous reds and blues; she guessed this was a threat display. Or a mating display, though she hoped not. Buy a girl a drink first, geez.

They were also remarkably agile, considering how they were leaning into the turns even as Snek's body swayed from side to side beneath their feet. She attributed part of that to their arm feathers, and the rest to their tails acting as counterweights.

Rising to her feet, she dropped a marked puck on Snek's head, then ran back toward the oncoming raptors. Just before the first one reached her, she leaped up and over, booping it on the nose as it reached up to snap playfully at her. The instant she landed, she threw herself into a slide straight through the legs of the second one, causing it to screech and tumble off Snek's back into the undergrowth.

Tossing another puck straight up, she teleported to it then dropped onto Snek's back behind the third raptor while it was still looking around for her. "Hi," she said, and glomped it, then lifted it clear off its feet. It was lighter than it looked, but it struggled like something with twice the muscle mass.

Squawking in surprise and whipping its body in all directions, it struggled mightily to escape, but Diane wasn't letting it off so easily. She recalled one time when she'd had Ravager in more or less the same position, and what she'd subsequently done. Shifting her grasp around, she brought her fingers into play … and began to tickle it.

At the time, it had turned out that Ravager was indeed ticklish and hated it. The villain never stopped cursing her out, even between fits of laughter. Still, it had kept her helpless long enough for Diane to get the restraints on her.

Burrowing in through the feathers, her fingers found its ribs and began seeking out the sensitive spots. She knew she'd found them when the raptor's wriggling and squalling changed dramatically. If she wasn't much mistaken, it was doing the dinosaur equivalent of laughing, and its attempts to free itself were now a lot less effective.

When Snek slid to a halt, Diane looked around and discovered that they were now in the middle of a clearing under the trees. More of the feather-crested raptors crowded around Snek, chirping and chattering between themselves. More to her surprise than she would really have expected, she saw that some were emerging from rudimentary huts built up against the trees. What really opened her eyes were the stone-lined firepits in front of each hut. They've got fire too?

"Well, hello there," she said, releasing her ad hoc prisoner and jumping down off Snek's back. The raptor slid down as well and scrambled to its feet, then rejoined its fellows. They began poking it and pushing it around, squawking and keening and producing that laughter-like sound.

"Thiss iss Mouss," Snek said, and they all quieted, looking up at the giant reptile as he raised his head to look at them all. "Mouss iss friend." He followed it up with a series of chirping noises almost exactly the same as they used.

Why does it not surprise me that he speaks their language too?

The raptors responded by regarding her curiously, then moving closer, chirping at her in what she chose to interpret as a friendly manner. She thought she recognised the three which had joined her on Snek's back, two pushing the third one along. That one said something in their language (it clearly wasn't just random chirps and squawks) and then handed her … the marked puck she'd left on Snek's head.

"Thank you," she said, tucking it away in a pouch. "I appreciate it." Unfastening her helmet, she hung it on her belt, every motion followed by the bright eyes of the dino-critters. "I'm Diane, but you can call me Mouse."

<><>​

Home Base of the Crowley Branch of the Fallen; Kansas

Jake Crowley

"Fetch me a beer." Jake didn't care who did it, so long as he got a beer in his hand. He didn't take his eyes away from the TV screen as he watched—yet again—the horrific imagery of that serpent, the Defiler, slithering out of the receding waves with the leg of The Lord of Waters in its mouth.

One of his wives brought it to him and he cracked the cold can without even looking at it. As he slammed half the contents back in one hit, he became aware of his younger brother dropping onto the ragged sofa beside him. "You've been watching this over and over for days," Vince said. "What are we gonna do about it?"

And that was the big question, wasn't it? What could he do about it? All the worship in the world wouldn't bring Leviathan back, though he'd had his followers trying exactly that ever since the Savannah attack. A bunch of the devout had volunteered (or been 'volunteered'; he didn't give a fuck which it was) to be ritually drowned as a sacrifice, but that had just ended up with more bodies to be disposed of and no sign that it had worked.

As if his brother's question had finally crystallised the answer in his mind, Jake knew what had to be done. "We need to deal with the snake."

Vince tilted his head questioningly. "Well, not saying no, but how do you mean that? Kill it?"

"If we have to." Jake was thinking hard, now that he'd gotten past the mental block that had sprung up the first time he saw the heretical creature. "Either that, or co-opt it."

"Wait, what?" Now Vince was actually startled. "Bring it on board? What if it's not interested? What if it's just a projection or something?"

"If it is," Jake said patiently, "we find the cape behind it and bring him on board. Or kill him, or whatever. However we do it, we've got to deal with this thing before more people just walk away."

"Okay, yeah, got it." Vince looked at him expectantly. "How are we gonna do that? Any of it? I'm good, but I'm not that good. Even with Sabrina helping out."

Jake snapped his fingers. "I'm aware. For this, I'm going to need to make some phone calls."

"Wait." Vince finally seemed to have figured out where he was going with all this. "You're calling on Mathers for help?"

"And McVeay," Jake confirmed. "If that damn snake is good enough to destroy Leviathan—"

"—or drive him off," Vince hurriedly added, that being the stopgap explanation they were using at the moment.

"Or drive him off," Jake amended, "then we're going to need all the throw weight that we can get our hands on."

Vince grimaced. "I dunno. I mean, I know we've got to do something, but … you know they're going to hold this over our heads forever, right? We're going to owe them so hard."

"Doesn't matter." Jake started looking around for his phone. "Either the snake dies, or it becomes our new Lord of the Waters. And any debt we owe will look like chickenshit next to the cred we'll have once we've got our very own Endbringer to deliver judgement to the wicked when and where we say."

"I guess …" Vince shrugged. "But I can't help feeling there's something we haven't factored in."

"Are you sure this isn't just you being a little bitch?" Jake muted the TV then started looking through the phone's directory for the numbers he wanted. "Now shut up, I need to make those calls."

"Whatever you say, bro." Vince got up and wandered off, leaving Jake in peace.

"Damn right." Jake selected the first number and hit the call icon, already composing in his head what he was going to say.

<><>​

Mouse Protector

Diane had been surprised already that the raptors were hut-builders and could use fire, but her next revelation came once the tribe had gotten more used to her. That was when the little ones came out of the huts to see what was going on. The youngest of them were about a foot tall, and they were covered in the cutest green fluff that made them into little floofy puffballs. Even better, when they were excited, they let loose with gravelly peep-peep sounds like baby chicks with a pack-a-day habit.

Having shed her armour to better enjoy the experience—the raptors had been intrigued by it, but not puzzled by its existence—she'd decided that a bunch of cute little raptor-babies cuddling up to her was about the best thing that had happened to her all month. They seemed to like her too, especially when she burrowed her fingers in through the fluffiness and scratched them down the back or rubbed their bellies. A couple of the mature raptors, ones she figured were the equivalent of stay-at-home moms, were lingering nearby to keep an eye on the kids, but they seemed relaxed and tolerant of their youngsters' interest in her.

These dino-people had no shortage of brains, she decided, or empathy toward their own. From what she could see, they cared for their young, their old and their infirm. All they were really lacking was the infrastructure and opportunities afforded by a technological society, and she couldn't really say they were missing out on much there.

Snek came slithering over from where he'd been playing some variation of tag-me-out with some of the other raptors. "Musst go. Mouss come with?"

Reluctantly, Diane let go of her armful of wriggly floof, and climbed to her feet. "Sorry, kids," she said apologetically. "Mama Mousey's gotta go pretend to be a responsible adult. Catch you all next time."

As she began to strap on her armour, the ones she'd tagged as moms came over and began to calm their brood, who were starting to show signs of unhappiness that their newest playmate was leaving. One of them chirped at her and put a clawed hand on her arm.

"Sshe ssayss it wass nicce meeting you," Snek translated helpfully. "Little oness like you."

Diane paused in her armouring up to give the reptilian mother a hug. "Tell her that I really enjoyed myself, and I'd love to come back and see them again sometime."

Amidst more goodbyes, Diane donned the last of her armour and put her helmet on. She hugged the other raptor mom and waved goodbye to the rest; as an afterthought, she pulled out her phone and took a selfie with them. Then she swung her leg over Snek's neck.

"Mouss hold on."

"Woo hoo!"

<><>​

The Boardwalk, Brockton Bay

Kid Win

"So, where were you thinking of transferring to?" Chris asked the question idly as he drifted along on his hover-skateboard, about six inches off the ground.

Gallant looked around at him, the set of his mouth conveying irritation. "Two questions. First, what makes you think anyone's transferring anywhere? Second, can't you walk like a normal person?"

Chris just snorted and shook his head. "Seriously? Let me count the number of major villains that have been eaten alive or chased the hell out of Brockton Bay since Snek started hanging around. Oh, wait. All of them. In case you hadn't noticed, non-cape crime is way down too. That's what happens when a sixty-foot boa constrictor is known to look over a safecracker's shoulder and ask him what he's doing."

"Hah, yeah." Gallant cracked a grin. "I'm pretty sure the poor bastard ended up with fear of snakes after that."

It hadn't been the only incident of its type, or even a rarity. Snek, so it seemed, was both remarkably curious and able to go basically anywhere he wanted. Humorously enough, he had a talent for interrupting crimes in progress with his 'innocent' questions.

"As Clock would put it, couldn't happen to a nicer guy." Chris tilted his head. "What I'm saying is, once the villains go away, there's less call for heroes in the city. So, the way I figure it, they're going to start offering transfers to places where there's more need for us."

Gallant sounded dubious. "Are you sure about this? What do the others think?"

Chris shrugged. "Haven't talked to everyone yet, but Vista's already packing her bags."

"Wait, Vista?" Gallant seemed taken aback by that. "She wants to go that badly? I thought ..." He trailed off before he could say any more, but it didn't matter. Chris already knew.

"Dude. Chill." He patted his buddy on the armoured shoulder. "The way I hear things, it's not about you. It's her parents. She wants to get away from ... how did she put it again? Their 'passive-aggressive pseudo-parenting'."

"Wow, okay." Gallant actually stopped at that point and did the 'time-out' gesture. "No matter what she did or did not say, I don't think here and now is a good time or place to air that sort of dirty laundry, do you?"

"Okay, yeah, sorry. I thought maybe you'd heard her in the common room before we came out on patrol. Clock got a real earful. She was kind of ranting a bit."

"I see. Think I should talk to her? Offer a shoulder?"

Chris thought about it, then shook his head. "Probably not the best idea in the world. You've already made it clear you're not interested in her. Something like that would send only mixed messages."

"Okay, yeah, granted." Gallant gestured sideways at the flying skateboard. "Next order of business. Why can't you just walk?"

"Image," Chris intoned piously, having had time to think about it. "The PR guys said that the public loves to see Tinker heroes using their equipment when we're out and about. So it's totally not my call. I'm forced into it by my adoring fans."

Despite the visor, Chris knew Gallant was giving him the stink eye. "You do know I can tell when you're full of shit, right?"

"That's my story and I'm sticking to it." Chris knew Gallant probably couldn't see it, but he raised his eyebrows behind his visor. "Anyway, Glory Girl barely walks anywhere in public that I can recall. It's like she can't help reminding most of us mere mortals that she can fly and we can't."

"It's not like that," Gallant protested weakly. "She's just … you know … Vicky."

"Yeah, we know." Chris grinned at the way he'd managed to turn things around on his buddy. "Hey, how about we grab some lunch and give the Fugly patrons a photo op?"

"That's actually not a bad idea." Gallant grabbed onto the notion quickly enough that Chris suspected he wanted to distance himself from the mention of his girlfriend rarely touching foot to ground. "At least both of us can eat in public. I still have no idea why Clock went with the full-face helmet."

Chris shrugged. "I think he likes the idea of nobody knowing where he's looking. Or maybe he was a hard-boiled egg in a previous life."

Gallant sputtered laughter. "Okay, that's it. When Aegis graduates to the Protectorate, I'm putting my foot down. You won't be patrolling with Clock for at least a month. His sense of humour is rubbing off on you, and not in a good way."

"What, I'm not allowed to have a sense of humour of my own?" protested Chris.

"Buddy, you're a Tinker. I'm pretty sure becoming one of those requires leaving your sense of humour at the door." He activated his helmet radio. "Console, this is Gallant. Kid Win and I are catching a bite at Fugly's."

"Copy that, static at Fugly's." That was Clockblocker on the other end. "Bring me back some curly fries, over."

"Sure, but they'll be cold by the time we get there, sorry. Gallant, out."

They climbed the front steps of Fugly Bob's and entered the partially open-air establishment. The server's eyes widened as they approached the counter. "Uh, hi? Is … is there a problem?"

"No, no problem," Gallant said smoothly, in his particular talking-to-girls way that made the server—her nametag read MARCI—relax and smile. Chris knew he'd never be able to emulate that tone, not in a million years. It was just a talent on his teammate's part, one envied by everyone who knew him. "We just dropped in for a bite to eat, that's all."

"Oh, that's okay then." Marci indicated the illuminated menu up behind the counter. "So, what would you like?"

"One of these days, I'm going to bring Aegis in here and see if he can take out the Challenger," Chris mused. "But right now, I'm thinking a Fugly's Extra Bacon with curly fries and a vanilla shake."

"Aegis's power is redundancy, not miracle working," Gallant retorted with a grin. "I'll have the same as him, but with a diet Pepsi, thanks."

Chris glanced back as more people came in through the front door, but they didn't seem to be in too much of a hurry. "Hey, were you working here when Snek came through the drive-through that one time?"

Marci finished typing up the order, then nodded. "Yeah, but I was on the front counter, not on the window. I only got to see him go past, then he just vanished. Krystal was working the window, and she had to go and sit down in the back room for half an hour afterward. Your orders should be done in a minute, gentlemen. If you want to take a seat, I'll bring them out to you."

Gallant inclined his head. "Thank you, Marci. We appreciate it."

He and Chris stepped away from the counter so that the next group could place their orders. One of them, a wispy blonde, went to walk past Chris, but a kid a few years younger than Gallant pushed between him and the woman. Chris felt himself being jolted aside with surprising force and he looked back in surprise. Gallant was also staring at the group, and Chris heard the click as he activated his radio. "Console, we're—"

"Everyone! Listen to me!" Another member of the group, a skinny teenage girl with long blonde hair, raised her voice. Chris noted that she had makeup pasted on her face, imperfectly concealing tattoos around her mouth. "Sit down, shut up, and don't communicate with anyone!"

Oh, shit, Chris realised far too late as the compelling gaze passed over him. Master. The eyes flashed, and his will dissolved into warm jelly …

<><>​

Wards Base, PRT Building

Vista

"Gallant," Dennis said urgently. "Come in, Gallant. Can you hear me?"

Seated on the couch, Missy looked around at the unaccustomed tone of his voice. "What? What's happened?"

"Dunno. Come in, Gallant. They called in a stop at Fugly's, then he started to call me, then the call dropped out." He paused. "Wait, I can hear a woman talking, giving orders. I don't get … huh?"

"'Huh' what?" Missy rolled off the couch and made it to him in one long stride. He was shaking his head and slapping at his free ear. "Dennis! What's going on?"

Pulling off his headphones, he shook his head again, then turned toward her. "What? What the hell? I can't hear you. I can't hear anything!" His voice was oddly nasal as he stared at her with growing panic in his eyes. "Say something! Yell at me! Anything!"

Discarding the headphones, he jumped to his feet as though trying to escape whatever was happening to him. He started wiggling his fingers in his ears, as though trying clear water out of them. At the same time, he worked his jaw in the way they'd been shown to clear his ear canals.

Missy grabbed his wrists and tried to pull his hands away from his ears. "Calm down," she ordered him. "Just tell me what's going on!"

From a range of six inches, he yelled in her face, "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

Oh, shit. Missy didn't know exactly what was going on, but she knew this was very bad indeed. Normally, she would've suspected a Clockblocker prank, but she could see the terror in his eyes. Also, he just wasn't that good an actor.

Grabbing up the headset, she flicked it over to internal comms and held the earpiece to her head while she spoke into the mic. "Vista to PRT Console. Vista to PRT Console. Clockblocker's under a cape effect. We need people here now-now-now!"

There was no answer. She tapped the button to make their console flash.

Nothing.

<><>​

Mama Mathers

Christine looked at her two latest cape followers. Now under Valefor's influence, Gallant and Kid Win would be fine additions to her flock; Gallant's powers even fitted neatly with the Mathers family theme. Though she'd have to change that name.

It was too bad for those who had been listening in on Gallant's open radio channel. They had heard her voice, and so their hearing was hers, but she couldn't have them telling their colleagues what she was doing. Once her business in Brockton Bay was finished, she would speak to them as only she could. Either they would come to her, or they would go mad.

She didn't much care which.

<><>​

Vista

She had to act. Whatever it was that could make Dennis go deaf over a radio link and incapacitate the PRT listeners at the same time was definitely bad news.

The word "Fugly's" sparked a memory association that brought back to her a polite conversation with an enormous snake, one who liked to help people and eat Endbringers.

She did the only thing she could think of.

Dropping the headset on the desk and tilting back her head, she called out, "Snek! Snek! Heeeeelp!"



End of Part Fifteen

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Sixteen: Beware of the Snek

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Baumann Parahuman Containment Center
Canary

Paige stood before her cell block leader, feeling her world crumble just a little more around her. She honestly admired and respected Lustrum, but the folded arms and the unhelpful expression gave the message loud and clear: there wasn't going to be any help forthcoming from this quarter.

"I can protect you from the men," Lustrum explained, as though to a five-year-old. "That's what being in this half of the Birdcage is all about. But beyond that, I can't stand over you every second of the day. Not only do I not have time for that, but if some of my enemies figured that you mean something special to me and decided to get at me through you, then it would go even worse for you right now, you get it?"

Paige nodded. "I get it, I do. But everywhere I go, they're looking at me. And if I try to ignore them, they walk past, closer and closer. I've seen it before, out there, from obsessed fans."

Lustrum frowned. "You're presenting as someone who's vulnerable. I've told you how to not do that."

"I'm trying," Paige insisted. "They're still doing it."

"Then you're going to have to step it up. Make it clear that you're not available." Lustrum turned her head as another woman stepped into the cell. Some unseen message passed between them, and she glanced back at Paige. "Go on, get back to your living area. And for Chrissakes, learn to stand up for yourself."

The unspoken addendum I did, why can't you? hung in the air as Paige left the cell and stumbled down the corridor toward her wing. Hugging her arms around herself, she tried her best not to cry. The subtle, silent harassment from the other women had driven her to seek help from Lustrum, but that had come to nothing. Worse, if they heard she'd gone to the block leader and been rebuffed, it would just get—

"Hi, Canary," crooned a voice from one of the cells she was passing by. "Sing us a song, Canary."

She hurried on. One of her tormentors stepped out of another cell in front of her. "Going somewhere, little birdie?"

Paige fervently wished that she could've been sent to a normal prison; there, they could only shank you. Here, if you said no to the wrong person, you could be splattered all over the nearest wall before you knew it. They didn't send people to the Birdcage for being fully in control of their darker impulses, after all.

"Just back to my cell," she mumbled, trying to do as Lustrum had told her and present a façade of confidence, but the cynical gaze of the woman before her told the story loud and clear: she wasn't fooling anyone. "Let me past."

"Say please," purred the woman. "I can't hear enough of that sweet, sweet voice of yours."

"I can think of other uses for that mouth of hers," suggested the other woman, who was coming up behind her. "Why don't we—"

Why is this happening to me? she wailed silently. I don't deserve this! Why can't anyone help me?

She had the sense to not say what she was thinking out loud; it would only incite them to push harder. As it was, they were crowding in around her, terrifying her more and more.

And then the woman in front looked past her, eyes opening wide. "What the—Jesus—how did that—" She brought up her hands, purple energy flaring around them. Paige dropped to one knee, closing her eyes and wrapping her hands over her head. There was an actinic flash that briefly allowed her to see the veins inside her own eyelids, and the brittle crack of air being forcibly ionised, along with the sharp reek of ozone.

The other woman shrieked, but it was the sound of terror, not of agony or death. A moment later, Paige heard running footsteps, bolting away down the corridor. Paige wondered what had just happened, and what the woman had fired at.

Or rather, who. The scariest monsters in the Birdcage were the inmates, after all.

Unlike virtually every other inmate in the facility, she hadn't come to the Birdcage via a life of crime, so her fight-or-flight instincts were sadly lacking. A somewhat timid person by nature, she tended to freeze in moments of crisis, at least until she knew what was going on. Fully aware that there was someone behind her that the woman had fired at, then run from, she chose not to make any sudden movements that might provoke violence.

Slowly, recognising the fact that she wasn't dead yet, she opened her eyes and turned her head to see who had provided such a menacing presence that two hardened inmates had outright fled from them. When she did see, she blinked and rubbed her eyes. What she was seeing couldn't be right. It couldn't be real. Whatever she'd been expecting, be it Lustrum, the Faerie Queen or even one of the male inhabitants of the Birdcage, it was not … this.

The gigantic snake, its head larger than the average armchair, regarded her politely. "Hello," it said, a faintly sibilant undertone audible to her trained ear. "Ssnek iss Ssnek. Doess feather hair lady need help?"

She blinked again. This had to be a prank, by someone, anyone. Snakes that large just didn't exist in nature, especially talking snakes. But she didn't know of anyone who could create such a lifelike illusion, much less create a perfect projection. "Are—are you real?" she asked, immediately hating herself for asking such a stupidly inane question.

Fortunately, the snake—or whoever was behind it—didn't take offense. "Ssnek iss real," it assured her. "Feather hair lady assked for help. Ssnek can take you to Masster. Masster iss very wisse."

She decided to take the fact that it bore a fedora placed squarely in the middle of its broad head as a good sign. She'd seen a fedora like that only once before, on the head of a woman standing back in the shadows when she had her vial administered to her. The oddly familiar sight helped calm her and informed her response.

Carefully, she climbed to her feet. "Yes," she said, totally aware that she was having a conversation with either a puppeted illusion or an actual massive reptile, and not caring much at the moment. "I think I would like that."

It can't be much worse than what I've got right here.

The snake's enormous head darted forward, and she somehow ended up astride its neck. "Feather hair lady hold on," it advised her. Then a portal opened in front of them both, and it blurred forward.

<><>​

A Little Later, still in the Birdcage

Lustrum

Margaret loomed over the two women, grasping each of them by the upper arm. Power crackled as she drew energy from them, preventing them from using their powers against her.

"What happened to Canary?" she shouted, her magnified voice booming within the cell. "What did you do to her? Where did you hide her body?"

"We—we didn't do anything to her!" protested one of the offenders. "A giant snake! It was a giant snake! It must've eaten her or something!"

Lustrum squeezed hard, causing them both to cry out with pain. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that?"

"The—the giant snake that ate Leviathan!" Even in the Birdcage, they'd heard that particular news story. Leviathan's death had been as unexpected as it had been bizarre. "It must be the same one!"

"Really? That's the best you can do?" Lustrum leaned closer to them and lowered her voice to a vicious whisper. "When she came to me, I knew what you were up to. I expected her to stand up for herself and tell you 'no', and for you to respect that. But you didn't, did you? You pushed her, and she fought back, and you killed her. So where is she? What did you do with her body?"

"No," whimpered the one she figured to be the killer, in a choked whisper. "We didn't—it was the snake—"

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" It was a bellow of rage. She flexed her power-infused muscles, her hands squeezing hard enough to break bones. They screamed in agony, and she threw them from the cell with casual force. "Stay out of my way. Or join another cellblock. If I see you again, I'll kill you myself."

As they dragged themselves to their feet and stumbled away, she lowered herself to the comfortable chair that took pride of place in her cell. She looked down at her hands, regret flooding through her heart.

I promised to protect her, but the only way to truly protect her was to teach her how to protect herself.

I failed her, and I failed myself.

And now she's dead.

Deep in the world's most secure prison, Lustrum mourned the loss of a songbird.

<><>​

Canary

Paige sat blinking in the straight-backed chair. "Okay, that has got to be the weirdest thing that's happened to me. And yes, I am counting how Snek got me out of the Birdcage."

"Well, that's how the boss rolls." Riley placed the stopper on the glass jar, where the oddly swirling network of misty coils swirled in ever-changing patterns, and handed it to the tall bearded man. "Here you go."

"Thank you, Riley." The Master accepted the jar and placed it on a shelf, where it joined a whole row of similar jars. When he turned back to them, his voice and attitude became much more formal. "Paige Mcabee of Earth Bet, you have a choice before you. Stripped of the compulsive aspects of your power, you may go back to your birthworld, or you can make a fresh start in this one."

Paige considered that. Just having a choice was remarkably liberating, but she wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of going back to Bet, the world that had already done everything but sentence her to death. Even if the PRT left her alone (she didn't see that happening anytime soon) it would be a cold day in any Hell she cared to name before they'd allow her to actually restart her singing career. If she even had a singing career to restart, after all the shit that had happened.

"I'm, uh, interested in a fresh start," she ventured hopefully. "What can I do in this world?"

"Are you kidding?" Riley threw her hands up. "With your voice, they'd beg you to sing for them. They would literally throw money at you."

The Master held out his hand and snapped his fingers. Above his palm, a scene faded into reality, of the interior of … a medieval tavern of some kind? Up on a stage was a gaudily clad minstrel, singing and playing a stringed instrument, with the crowd clapping along to the beat. As he sang and played, golden curlicues wove up off the strings, spreading out over the audience and drifting down over them in a shower of tiny shining motes.

"Whoa …" Paige murmured. "Can I … I mean, is that sort of thing possible for me to learn?"

"All that, and much more. With the right teachers, of course. You merely require a talent for music, which you have aplenty, and the will to learn." One shaggy brow rose. "Do you possess that?"

Paige nodded firmly. "Totally."

"Good." He favoured her with a measured nod. "Then you will do well. Riley, if you would show our guest to a room, and outfit her with clothing and an instrument?"

"Sure thing, boss." Riley headed over to the door that Snek had exited through shortly after delivering Paige to this room. "Come on, I'll give you the nickel tour."

"Okay, thanks." Paige turned back to the Master. "And thank you, for giving me a chance."

He nodded in acknowledgement. "Merely bring joy to my world, and I will be amply repaid."

"I can definitely do that." Paige hurried to catch up to Riley. "So, uh, if we're on top of a mountain, how do we get down to the town, where the tavern is, anyway?"

Riley grinned. "Dragons."

Paige blinked. She'd seen the stuffed one hanging from the ceiling, but … "Dragons? Actual, real dragons?"

"Yup."

Okay, I am definitely not in Kansas anymore.

<><>​

PRT ENE Building, Wards Area

Vista

Drawing in her breath, Missy prepared to shout for help again. The light over the exit door was glowing red, which meant they were in lockdown: nobody in, nobody out. That wasn't overtly dangerous to them; the Wards area had its own air-replenishment system, as well as enough water and MREs stashed away to feed a full complement for two weeks straight.

What really worried her was that Clockblocker still appeared to be deaf, and she had no idea how long the affliction would last, or even if it would ever go away. Some power effects had a strict time limit, whereas others (such as Panacea's healing) were permanent. Missy didn't want to bet on Clockblocker's debilitation being a temporary thing, not with his future as a hero at stake.

"Snek!" she shouted.

"Yess?" asked a familiar hissing voice, from about ten feet away. "Hello, Vissta. Hello, Clock. Iss good to ssee you."

"Snek!" Missy spun around, in equal parts elated and astonished. Snek had actually shown up when she called for help. "You came!" Impulsively, she hugged his broad neck.

"Ssnek likess to help." He seemed to be enjoying the hug. "How can Ssnek help Vissta?"

Doing her best to ignore the fact that Snek was comfortably coiled around the couch and gaming console, and carefully not asking herself the question how did he get in here?, Missy drew a deep breath and composed herself. "Clock was listening to the radio and something weird happened, and now he can't hear anything. And it's not just him. The whole building's in lockdown, so nobody can get in to help Clock."

At that moment, Clockblocker (who had been industriously digging in both ears with his pinky fingers at once, probably trying to dislodge whatever was deafening him, glanced around and spotted Snek's tail. Slowly, he turned his head, following Snek's length with his eyes, until he came to where Missy was standing next to Snek's head.

"Holy crap!" he yelped, still in that oddly nasal tone. "Snek's here! When did he get here? How did he get here?"

"Ssnek sseess what iss problem." The gigantic reptile peered at Clockblocker first with one gold-rimmed eye, then the other. "Clock iss under hosstile influencce. Masster hass taught Ssnek how to fix thiss."

"Oh, good." Missy felt a tremendous wave of relief sweep over her. Snek, the vanquisher of Leviathan, was here, and he knew how to fix Clockblocker. Everything was going to be—

Raising his head a good ten feet above the floor, Snek opened his jaws wide, darted forward, and ate Clockblocker whole.

<><>​

Mama Mathers

In Christine's experience, nobody had ever deliberately broken away from her hold on them. Some had drifted out of her consciousness because she simply couldn't be bothered holding on to them, but that had taken literally months of not caring enough to check on them. The Ward called Clockblocker had fitted into neither category, and yet between one second and the next, he'd simply vanished from her perception. The child he was with had been babbling about the heretical creature just before the cutoff point, but what that had to do with it, she had no idea.

Did he die? Did the stress of being deafened kill him? What sort of weaklings are they recruiting, if this is the case?

She would look into it, once the monster was run to ground and destroyed.

<><>​

Vista

Jaw hanging open, Missy stared, horrified and dumbfounded in equal measures. "Wha … bwah … you … he …" It had literally happened too fast for her to react; between one instant and the next, Snek had swallowed her teammate. He hadn't even had time to scream.

But he's supposed to be the good guy!

Just as she expanded space and jumped back to the other side of the room—not that this would help if Snek really decided to come after her—Snek opened his jaws again and deposited Clockblocker straight back into his chair. An alive and well Clockblocker, who stared up at Snek with a totally dumbfounded expression. "What the heck was that, dude? You ate me!"

Apparently, sixty-foot snakes were able to put on an appearance of injured innocence; or at least, Snek could. "Ssnek did not eat Clock. Ssnek put Clock in not-eat placce. Iss placce where Ssnek putss thingss not to eat. Masster ssayss put people under hosstile influencce there. Iss fixed now, yess?"

Clockblocker blinked. "Um, yeah. I can hear perfectly, now?" He paused for a moment. "And sorry for yelling at you, dude. You meant well."

"Clock and Vissta not to know. Iss good. Clock fine now."

Slowly letting the room resume its normal dimensions, Missy walked forward to join the two again. "Sorry, Snek. I guess I overreacted. But you did kind of eat Clock just then. How about warning a girl next time, okay?"

Snek turned to look at her, and she could see the apologetic look in his eye. "Ssnek iss ssorry. Did not mean to frighten. Ssnek will warn Vissta next time."

"It's all good." Her heart rate was almost down to normal again after the scare, and she gave him another hug. "This was all happening at Fugly's, right? The place where we met Snek the first time?"

Clockblocker nodded shakily. It seemed he wasn't quite over the experience of having been forcibly ingested then ejected again. "Yeah. Gallant's there with Kid Win. He started to call in a problem, but someone told him to shut up and he did. Then someone else started talking, giving orders. I got about three words in, then my ears just … shut down. It was horrifying."

"Masster hass sspoken of ssuch thingss," Snek agreed. "Hass told Ssnek how to fix."

Missy nodded. "Put them in your, uh, not-eat place, then bring them back up again. What about the bad guys themselves? What are you going to do if they just keep inflicting people with deafness and stuff?"

Snek smiled. He was extremely good at smiling, given that he had a rather extensive mouth. "Ssnek will jusst eat them."

<><>​

Mouse Protector

Diane found herself standing on the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, with the familiar skyline of New York around her. It was a distinct come-down from the village of raptors she'd been happily visiting up until that point. The little fluffballs had been so cute, especially with their gruff cheeping.

"Oh, well," she sighed, stretching to work the kinks out, then pulling a casual flick-flack just to prove she could. "That was fun, but real life beckons. Now, where can I find a bad guy to wreck the entire day of?"

Central Park was right there, she decided. If there wasn't a mugging or a drug deal going on somewhere in that green expanse, it was because the Big Apple's criminal element just wasn't trying hard enough. She strolled across the expanse of the roof and peered over the side, deciding exactly how she was going to parkour down to street level.

"Hello, Mouss. Ssnek hass found bad people. Mouss want to help?"

She didn't even startle when she heard his voice anymore. Snek was the rarity; a surprise visitor who was always welcome. Turning on her heel, she booped Snek's nose (because he always enjoyed that) then threw her leg over the gigantic reptile's neck. "Of course I want to help, you big goof. It's always fun watching you at work."

Snek rolled an eye back toward her and smiled. "Mouss hold on."

Diane knew what that meant. They were going on a ride. "Woo hoo!"

<><>​

Mama Mathers

"Okay," said Jake Crowley, looking around at the Fugly's patrons, who were now lining the windows. Some were standing on tables, the better to block the line of sight into the building. "You've got your hostage situation. Where do we go from here?"

Christine tutted. "They're not hostages. They're my followers." She turned to one of her latest converts. "Aren't you, child?"

Kid Win nodded earnestly as he snapped a panel shut on the side of his laser pistol and put his toolkit away. "Sure, Mama. Your wish is my command."

"And what are you going to do if any superheroes come in here?"

"Stop them, Mama." Gallant's tone was matter-of-fact. "By any means necessary."

"Good boys," she said fondly. "Now—"

"Mouser-prise!" As the heretical creature erupted from a portal that opened in the middle of the room, an armoured figure with mouse-ears on her helmet leaped off, vaulting over a table.

Gallant and Kid Win reacted immediately. Steel-grey gauntlets outstretched, Gallant blasted powerful bursts of despair and suicidal ideation at the scaled abomination. Kid Win, on the other hand, drew both his laser pistols and fired off overpowered beams at Mouse Protector. Instead of the gentle pew-pew they made for the PR clips, these pistols let out vicious cracks as they sent killing shots at their target.

Neither attack seemed to work; Gallant's emotion bursts splashed harmlessly off the snake's seemingly impervious hide, while only one of Kid Win's shots struck Mouse Protector. She dodged two more—they melted neat little holes in the windows—and literally deflected one with her sword, like the hero out of that one sci-fi movie. The one that hit her didn't seem to have any effect at all.

Still moving, Mouse Protector kicked Jake Crowley upside the head, sending him tumbling to the floor. The creature that had murdered Leviathan, on the other hand, forged straight toward Christine, mouth open wide and showing enough gleaming white fangs to give the average pride of lions a case of severe insecurity. She gave it the image of her running to the side, but it just kept coming at her.

Chort was the one who saved the day. With the gaping maw less than three feet from her, the boy seized the scaled horror by the body, turned, and threw it. Sixty feet of writhing monstrosity smashed out through the windows, taking most of the glass with it, and vanished out over the ocean.

With that taken care of for the moment—though she had the fleeting thought that perhaps Chort should have captured the profane monster instead of hurling it away—Christine turned her attention to Mouse Protector. Currently taking on Vince and Sabrina Crowley at once, and holding her own against both of them, she seemed remarkably unconcerned that her sole ally had been removed from the board.

Mouse Protector had to have seen her when she came in, so Christine went with an old favourite: making her perceive her enemies two feet to the left of where they really were. That should make it easy to—

The mouse-themed hero's boot heel slammed into Vince's solar plexus, sending him gasping to the floor. A moment later, Mouse Protector's sword sliced through Sabrina Crowley's shoulder; Sabrina screamed and fell back, clutching the wound. Mouse Protector hit the floor and rolled to her feet, her sword pointing unerringly at Christine. "I just Camembert in here to tell you, you've had a Gouda run, but it's over now."

Her dear Elijah stepped up alongside her. "Drop the sword," he commanded. "Do what Mama says."

She released the weapon to clatter on the ground, but then she kicked up in a backflip over two more laser bursts and an emotion blast. One scything boot took the laser pistols clear out of Kid Win's hands and sent them clattering across the floor. However, a second emotion shot hit her in the shoulder, and she dropped to one knee.

"Give up already!" shouted Elijah. "Why won't you give up?"

She raised her hands. "Okay, I give. I give. You should know—"

A massive pair of jaws came out of nowhere and closed over Elijah, so close that Christine felt the wind of the fangs passing her by, and looked straight into one of the great black-and-gold eyes for a split second. All around the room, people shook their heads, looking confused, as the impossible snake curled around Mouse Protector, looking back at Christine.

Mouse Protector put her thumb to her nose and waggled her fingers at Christine. "—that I was just keeping your attention so my Snekky-poo could do his thing and Roquefort your world."

Christine pointed at Mouse Protector and her infernal companion. "Get them! Kill them both! You will be greatly rewarded!"

Silence fell for a moment. Chort looked at her, then shook his head. Kid Win headed over to where his pistols had gone. Gallant mimed cracking his knuckles.

Grinning, Mouse Protector kicked the sword so it rebounded into her hand. "Hon, you are literally the only member of your little play-group left standing who didn't need brainwashing. Granted, you're a walking memetic hazard, but I'm willing to bet that's not gonna bother Snek one little bit. Am I right or am I right, Snekster?"

"Mouss iss right. Ssnek sstill hungry."

Mouse Protector nodded. "Bingo. Snek—get her!"

The last thing Christine saw were the fangs, coming right at her.

<><>​

Mouse Protector

In the aftermath of Snek's departure, while Kid Win and Gallant were busy securing the unconscious villains, Diane turned her attention to the kid wearing the wolf pelt and goat horns. "I'm guessing you're not Scapegoat's little brother, then."

He looked around, a little nervously. "Uh, no, ma'am. I'm … they called me Chort. Not sure what it means."

She shrugged. "Don't ask me. I'm not up on mythology, either. To be honest, I spend most of my reading time thinking up new puns to use. What's your power, anyway? Alexandria package?"

"No, just strength. They say I'm stronger than anyone. I've gotta be real careful, because everything's so fragile to me. Except Snek. Snek felt solid. That's why I threw him away."

"I can understand that." She stole a bunch of napkins and cleaned the blood off her sword, then re-sheathed it. "From your whole attitude, you're not with these morons willingly?"

He shook his head. "I was born into the McVeay clan, but I never wanted to be one of them. They got Valefor to mess with my head early on, though, otherwise I would've just walked out." Worry crept over his features. "Am I in trouble?"

"Hmm." She ran her thumbnail over her lips. "Wish I could tell you it was all gonna work out without a hassle, but things like this can get a bit messy. Not gonna lie; there's gonna be a bunch of idiots wanting to tar you with the same brush, just because you were with the Fallen at all. I'll give you all the help I can with that. And after all the shouting is done? Well, I'm sure there'll be no shortage of things that a guy with all the strength can do, to make a bit of money."

"Thanks," he said. "I appreciate it."

She grinned and tousled his hair. "Not a problem, kiddo."



End of Part Sixteen

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Seventeen: Happenings

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Far From Earth Bet

Elmora Reborn emerged from the guildhouse with the other trainees and turned down the street toward her lodgings. As dusk came on, the sconces of everfire spaced at regular intervals self-ignited one by one, giving enough light to see by.

Her shoulders ached and her forearms hurt and her fingers twinged, but she knew she was making progress. As her teacher always said, a good fletcher makes an arrow that a master is able to place into the target. A great fletcher makes an arrow that they themselves are able to shoot accurately. But an exceptional fletcher makes an arrow that anyone can learn to hit the bull with. She wasn't an exceptional fletcher yet, maybe not even a great one, but she felt she was getting there.

The other part of the training, apart from the bowyer work, was the archery itself. She knew the basics—one could shoot arrows only so many times without learning the most efficient way to nock and loose at the right time—but doing it since her power had been taken away was a shitload more difficult. Still, she was getting there. One day, she would be shooting with a bow of her own making, once she finished learning how.

Right now, however, the learning day was over. She had coin in her pouch, courtesy of her sponsor and the other work she was doing around town to augment her earnings, so it was time to relax and enjoy herself for a while. There was a tavern not far from her lodgings that served a tasty meat stew and a good heady ale, so she directed her steps that way.

When she pushed aside the curtain and stepped inside, the warmth and smell of the fire as well as the food and drink rolled over her. Inhaling appreciatively—in the old days, she would've considered this unbearably primitive, but her attitudes had changed somewhat since then—she found an empty table and sat herself down. There was a musician up on the simple wooden stage, singing in a high, reedy voice as he plucked at a string instrument; she wondered if he was an apprentice at the Bardic College, trying for some coin on the side.

The serving girl came over and Elmora ordered a bowl of stew and a mug of ale. It wasn't overly busy, so she figured she'd get served reasonably quickly. In the meantime, she leaned back in her chair and watched the crowd, with half an eye on the door-curtain and half an ear on the stage.

The singer finished his act to a smattering of polite applause and a few copper pieces rolling across the smooth-planed boards of the stage. He picked them up then took his lute (at least, she thought it was a lute) and headed offstage. Just then, Elmora spotted the serving girl coming back her way with the bowl and mug she'd ordered.

"Here you go." The girl—Janis, her name was—delivered Elmora's meal for the evening. "Enjoy."

"Thanks, I will." She dropped a few coins on the tray. "What's with that guy who was up on stage before? Surely he's not a full bard yet?"

"Hah, no." Janis grinned as she expertly swept the coins into her hip pouch. "College is sending 'em over to get a taste of performing in public."

"Yeah, okay. Makes sense." Elmora took up the spoon that had been supplied with the bowl of thick stew and pulled the bowl closer.

"See you around." Janis moved off toward another patron who'd just sat down as Elmora took a taste of the stew.

It was venison—the main game animal in the area was deer, so she'd found—and nicely seasoned. As she raised the mug to her lips—the ale was moderately alcoholic and strongly flavoured—another singer came out on stage, this one a woman wearing some kind of feathered headdress.

She was fortunate in that she'd just swallowed the mouthful of drink before the singer began her song. The lyrics were unfamiliar, but that didn't matter. From the very first note, she knew that voice.

Which was ridiculous. The last time she'd heard it was years ago and far away, in a world far distant to the one she now lived in. But the more she listened, the more certain she was that it was the same person. And when she looked more closely, she saw that the feathers were not part of a headdress; they were growing amidst the captivating singer's hair.

"Holy shit," she said out loud to nobody in particular. "That's fucking Canary."

Paige Macabee, she knew, had been arrested for mutilating her boyfriend or some stupid shit like that, and then gone straight to the Birdcage. What she was doing here, Elmora didn't know for certain, but it wasn't hard to make a guess. This had Snek and his enigmatic Master written all over it. If someone like her could get a second chance and end up here, then Canary would be a shoo-in.

Taking up the spoon again, she ate a mouthful of stew while preparing to enjoy the show. Being an exile in a strange place was one thing, but not being the only exile was another thing altogether.

<><>​

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Winslow High Student/Teacher Conference Room

Principal Blackwell

This was ridiculous, Carrie Blackwell decided. Why in God's name had Danny Hebert requested a conference with her on the first day of summer vacation? Couldn't he have arranged a day during any part of the actual school year? Any day? She had enough hassles as it was since the PRT had abruptly pulled their Ward stipend from the school with zero explanation.

"Does anyone have any idea what this is about?" asked Gladly. "I had plans for today. We were going to the movies."

"I'll be sure to ask." Carrie checked the clock on the wall.

It was almost ten, which was when Hebert had requested the meeting for. He'd also requested that Gladly and Quinlan attend, for whatever reason other than they were two of his daughter's teachers, she had no idea. Was this supposed to be some kind of final appeal for them to be more careful about his precious daughter being bullied next year?

I mean, seriously, this sort of thing is better dealt with just before school lets in, not after the year's over and done with!

There was a knock at the door, then it opened. Danny Hebert stood in the doorway, not even wearing a tie. Carrie had just enough time to be irritated at that before he stepped forward. "Good. You're all here. I was hoping I wouldn't have to track you down individually."

"What?" asked Gladly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Next into the room was a man who was in fact wearing a suit and tie, and carrying a briefcase. Carrie's irritation and confusion rapidly morphed into trepidation, which blew all the way out into worry when the man put his briefcase down on the table and unsnapped the latches. "Hello," said the newcomer, taking three folded pieces of paper out of the briefcase. "This is for you … and you … and you."

The door clicked shut, and Carrie looked that way to see Taylor Hebert herself, standing with her back to it. There was a certain determination in her posture, saying loud and clear that if they wanted to get out that door, they'd have to physically move her. While Carrie was distracted, she felt one of the folded documents being pressed into her hands.

"What the hell is this?" blustered Quinlan. "And who are you?"

The stranger smiled austerely. "I am Harold Howe of DC&H, Attorneys at Law. And you've just been served."

"It's a lawsuit," Danny Hebert added helpfully. "Against the whole school, against you three in particular, and against certain other people. All of whom managed to make Taylor's time here far more difficult than it should have been."

"But—wait—I didn't—" Predictably, it was Gladly. Carrie instead chose to open the summons—for that was what it was—to see exactly what it said.

"No." That was Taylor. "You didn't. That's the trouble. When Madison and Julia put juice or glue on my chair, or dumped pencil shavings on me, or stole my homework, or threw spitballs at me, or sabotaged my classwork, you didn't see a thing. When Emma and her friends cornered me outside the classroom while you were there, you still didn't see a thing."

Carrie read some of the wording of the summons and shuddered, folding the thing again. This had to be nipped in the bud. "Ms Hebert, you can't be serious. We are not the ones who harmed you. We can't be expected to stand over our students every second of the day."

"No, you're not the ones who pulled the pranks, who locked me in my locker." Taylor's tone was venomous, her expression implacable. "You're just the ones who enabled them. You're the ones who utterly failed to protect me from half the girls in my grade for two whole years. And every time you chose not to punish them, you taught them that it was just fine to keep at me. Congratulations." She gestured at Mr Howe. "It appears that lack of action also has consequences."

Well, fuck.

<><>​

Alan Barnes

When the doorbell rang, Alan Barnes' first reaction was irritation. He was relaxing on the sofa with the sports on and a drink in hand, so why the hell did he have to move now? But Emma was up in her room and Zoe was in the kitchen, so when the doorbell rang a second time without anyone calling out that they'd get it, he knew it was up to him.

"I'll get it," he grunted, setting the glass of cola down on a side table and heaving himself to his feet. As he did so, the doorbell rang a third time. "Coming!" he called out.

The trek to the front door was taken up with grumbling, so when he opened the door and saw a bright young man standing there, he was ready to growl at them.

"Good morning, Mr Barnes," the boy—surely he couldn't be more than twenty—said energetically. "The office sent me to hand-deliver this to you, sir. Very sorry if I disturbed your weekend."

"The office? Hand deliver?" His anger cut off at the knees, Alan accepted the Manila envelope that the kid handed to him. He had no idea what was going on, just that anything requiring hand delivery on a Saturday was not something he could fob off until Monday.

"Yes, sir. They said it was imperative that you look it over right now."

"Right, right." Alan broke the seal and reached into the envelope. Within was a stack of folded paper, which he extracted and started to open.

There was a click, and he looked up to see that the young man had taken his photo with a phone camera. He blinked. "What? What was that for?"

The kid beamed at him. "You've just been served, sir. Have a good day." Turning, he marched off back down Alan's front path to the gate.

"Served? What?" Suddenly realising that the lad didn't work in his offices, Alan opened the papers and scanned them quickly. "Summons? Lawsuit? Taylor?" Stepping back into the house, he shut the door behind him, then drew air into his lungs for a medium bellow. "Emma! Get down here now!"

Just as she called out to ask why, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at the caller ID; it showed the name of Rod Clements, a casual acquaintance since Emma had become close friends with Rod's daughter. "Alan here. Can it wait?"

"No, it damn well can't wait." Alan didn't know Rod well, but he seemed to be worked up over something. "I just got served a summons for a lawsuit naming Madison as a defendant, about damages to some girl called Taylor Hebert. What the hell's going on here?"

"I honestly have no idea," Alan confessed grimly. "But I fully intend to find out."

All of a sudden, missing the latest play on TV was the least of his problems.

<><>​

Hebert Household, Later

Taylor

Dad leaned back on the sofa and stretched his legs out. "So, that's done. How do you feel?"

I considered my words carefully. "Pleased. Nervous. Hoping all the t's got crossed and the i's got dotted. I'd hate for them to all walk away because of something I forgot to tell Mr Howe."

"No, you did just fine talking to him. Especially with that journal you've been amassing." He reached across and ruffled her hair. "He confided to me that when he saw how much material you'd put in it, the only question left on the board was how many figures we'd be getting."

"Oh, good." I drew a deep breath and let it out again to try to quell the jitters. It didn't really work. "Well, since we've decided to hold off on launching my exterminator business until after the lawsuit is over and done with, would you have a problem with me costuming up and going out on patrol?"

He hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm still not thrilled about you going off and fighting crime on your own. There are still supervillains in town, after all, and not all of them are vulnerable to bugs. Could you get someone to watch your back, while you're watching everyone else's backs?"

The tone of his voice told me that if I didn't have any other volunteers to call on, he'd step up himself. I didn't want to put that on him; he was willing enough, but he didn't have any powers. If he got hurt because of me, I'd never forgive myself.

"I can … well, I can try. Just let me get changed first." I headed upstairs and got into my costume, checking to make sure that the body cam had fresh batteries.

Deputy Director Renick had said in passing that the offer to join the Wards was still open, especially after viewing the footage. I'd politely declined, but just being told I was good enough to join had given me a heady feeling. When I asked him why the Wards didn't wear body cams like mine—they would've caught on to Sophia's shenanigans a lot quicker, or forced her to actually act like a hero on patrol, either of which would've been a worthwhile result—he'd shaken his head and muttered something about 'youth guard'.

After double-checking the rest of my gear, I trotted downstairs again with my mask in my hand. "Okay, I'm not even sure if this'll work, but I'll give it a try. And if it doesn't … well, how do you feel about driving me around and staying in the car?"

"I'm totally okay with that," he said promptly. "I'm not against you being a hero; I just want you to come home safely."

"Hey, I'm down with that too." I gave him a smile. "But let's see if this works first." Taking a deep breath, I spoke out loud. "Uh … Snek? If you're not busy, I could do with some help going on patrol? Please?"

Dad's widening eyes clued me in at about the same time as I heard the dry sound of scales on the floor behind me. Turning, I watched Snek slither in from the kitchen. "Hello, buzzy-bug girl." He was as big and as cute as ever, especially with that hat in the middle of his broad head. "Ssnek would like to help you chasse bad men. Iss alwayss fun."

"Yes, it is. Especially when you're around." I booped him on the nose like I'd seen Diane do—he seemed to like that—and gave him a hug around his enormous neck. "It's good to see you again."

"Iss good to see buzzy-bug girl and Danny again too." Snek gave us both the kind of smile that only he could supply. "Are make-ssad boy and pew-pew boy well?"

It took me a moment to figure out what he meant, then I nodded. "Uh, yeah. Gallant and Kid Win seem to be fine. I've seen them both out on patrol since the Fugly's thing." It had made the news in a big way. Snek had hung around and they'd cooked up about a dozen Challengers for him as a snack for the road. At his request, they'd loaded on all the chilli that could fit on the burgers.

Well, he did like his spicy food.

"That iss good, buzzy-bug girl. Are you ready to go chassing bad men?"

I pulled on my mask and swung my leg over his neck. "I am now. Bye, Dad!"

"Bye, hon. Take care of her, Snek."

"Ssnek will do that, Danny. Buzzy-bug girl hold on."

I held on. A portal opened up in front of him, and we launched through it. "Woo hoo!"

<><>​

On Board Squealer's Latest Contraption

Skidmark

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Skiddy?" Squealer expertly steered the armoured vehicle around the worst of the potholes. "With all the other villains gone, the heroes will be looking at us now."

"Shove it up your mung-hole, will you? We're the motherhumpin' big-ass dogs in town now." Adam took a deep drag on the pipe, then offered it to her as he held the intoxicating smoke in his lungs. She took it, steering with her knees as she applied a lighter and inhaled. In the process, the monstrous vehicle swerved from side to side, crunching up and over a derelict car, but neither of them noticed.

Handing the pipe back, she let out the smoke in a long stream to join the pre-existing fug in the cabin. "Yeah, but thing is, thing is, Protec—Protec—tectorate comes after us, we're toast."

"They'll never find us," he boasted, slapping the cabin wall. "Your shit is fuckin' amazing." He looked at the pipe and prepared to take another drag. "So's this shit. We need to get more of it."

"Uh … Skiddy?" She was slowing down.

The plan wasn't to slow down. It was to go straight to the bank, bust on in through the wall, make them open the fucking vault, and roll out of there like bandits. Or bosses. Or boss bandits. Adam didn't know how much money banks kept on hand, but it had to be like a million bucks. That would buy an absolute fuck-ton of meth.

She was still slowing down. He looked at her, irritated. "Why you slowing down, Squeals?"

"That." She pointed out through the windshield. He looked.

Coiled in the road, right in front of the oncoming vehicle, was a snake. Not just an ordinary snake, either. An ordinary snake would have to get the fuck out of the way before it ended up as street pizza, when one of Squealer's creations rolled on through.

No, this snake was the snake. The one he'd seen on the news, but decided he'd been too high to see straight. Snakes didn't get that big, and even the big ones didn't talk. Fact of nature. So it was just a drug hallucination. Trying as many drugs as he did, he was totally used to hallucinations, like the purple gorilla that used to sit at the end of his bed and give him a totally judgemental glare whenever he got wasted on smack.

But the thing about drug hallucinations was that nobody else saw them, no matter how much you pointed and screamed. And everyone saw the snake. Especially when it fucking ate Leviathan.

He'd been convinced he was high when he saw that, too. Or the snake was. How hard did the munchies have to hit before you thought it was a good idea to nom down on an Endbringer?

Anyway, seeing the snake himself now, via his own (somewhat bloodshot) eyes, and knowing Squeals was seeing it too, they were either sharing the same drug-fucked vision, or it was actually there.

As was the bug-themed girl sitting astride its neck. He had no idea what that was about.

The snake opened its mouth wide, showing off a whole array of fangs more suited to something from a horror movie, and began to uncoil, slithering in their direction. Squealer brought the tank to a halt.

"What the hell you doing?" he demanded. "Run over that scaly fuck!"

It was closer now. The fangs looked really big and really sharp. For all that he knew he was sitting inside an armoured vehicle, Skidmark began to feel nervous.

"Nope, I've seen what it does to anyone who fucks with it." She slewed the tank in a half circle, demolishing a bunch of parking meters in the process. A rear screen showed the snake really close behind, so she fed it the gas, and the tank surged forward.

"And turn on the fuckin' invisibility field while you're at it!" he yelled. "That overgrown earthworm can't chase us if it can't see us!"

"The field's already on!" she yelled back. "It can see us anyway!"

The tank was now roaring down the street at what Adam suspected were unsafe speeds for anything. When he snuck a peek in the rear-view screen, the snake was closer. "Faster!" he screeched. "Go faster!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!"

<><>​

Taylor

"Get 'em, Snek!" I enthused, hanging on to Snek's neck as he slithered down the street at highway speeds. The weird vehicle ahead of us, which had only flickered into my awareness as we caught up to it, bounced and yawed through the many potholes in the road; Snek, on the other hand, glided over them without pause.

"Ssnek iss—" Snek's head came up. "Danger, buzzy-bug girl!"

His warning came too late, as a gleaming metallic cylinder arced toward us from a rooftop overhead. Even as he spoke the words, it burst, dropping a sparkling field around us. Snek tried to power through, but I felt my thought processes slowing, and saw the world outside speeding up. In an instant, the tank was gone.

"Get … help … Masster …" Snek was barely moving now, but a portal formed in front of me. He twitched his neck upward, and I tumbled through it.

In the next instant, I hit a stone-tiled floor and rolled to a halt. Looking around in confusion, I saw I was in a corridor lined with odd purple-flaring torches. Ahead of me was a large imposing wooden door. Carefully, I climbed to my feet and looked around.

The portal had closed behind me, but I suspected I knew where I was. This had to be Snek's home, where Snek's Master lived.

Raising my hand, I thumped on the thick wood with my fist. "Hello?" I called out. "Is anyone there? I need help! Snek needs help! Please!"

Abruptly, there was a metallic click, and the door swung open with nary a creak. "Enter and be welcome, Taylor Hebert of Earth Bet." The voice was warm, yet full of authority.

I stepped through the doorway, looking around for whoever had spoken. He wasn't hard to find, standing front and centre in the room. If this place was a castle, as my impressions were rapidly adding up to, then he definitely ticked all the boxes that said 'wizard'.

But I didn't care about that. I cared about getting help for Snek.

"Please," I said, stumbling forward. "If you're Snek's Master, he's in trouble. They've trapped him in some kind of time bubble that he couldn't get out of, so he sent me here."

"Really?" he asked, his tone intent. When he raised his hand, a gnarled wooden staff—another box ticked, right there—rose up and flew to his grasp. With it, he made a few simple gestures, and a three-dimensional image formed. Snek lay in the middle of the sparkling field, and two figures stood looking down at him. One, with a demonic appearance, was vaguely familiar, though I didn't know the one in the gas mask at all. "Well, well. Oni Lee and Bakuda. Her little toys are surprisingly effective. I may have to do something about that."

"Can you—" I began, but someone took me by the elbow. I looked around to see a girl a few years younger than me, dressed in utilitarian overalls, with heavy goggles pushed up on her forehead.

"Hi, I'm Riley. It's all good," she assured me. "He'll sort this out. In the meantime, want a pastry?"

"Pastry?" I repeated stupidly. "Snek's in trouble! What can he do?"

Riley grinned broadly. "Oh, trust me. You're not gonna want to miss this."



End of Part Seventeen

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Eighteen: No Time Lost, No Lessons Learned

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



A Few Weeks Ago, In a Lab in Brockton Bay

Bakuda

"Lung is dead." For news so momentous, Oni Lee's emotionless delivery left it somewhat lacking.

Alice Takawara looked up from her latest project, which would have the capability (if she so wished) to black out all of Brockton Bay, or any other similarly-sized city. "I'm aware. I saw the footage, too. I wish I hadn't, but I did. What's your point?"

"He was killed by a giant snake. It ate him." Oni Lee sounded like a person who wasn't quite sure what righteous anger was, exactly, but was attempting to work himself up to it anyway.

"Yes," she said with all the patience she could muster (which wasn't a lot, really). "I absolutely saw that part, too. I'm going to ask you again, what's your point?"

"You will not speak to me like that." Now he seemed to be acting out indignation without quite understanding how it went. "With the death of great Lung, I am the leader of the Azn Bad Boys."

"Wait, what?" She shook her head. "No, I'm the leader of the ABB. What makes you think you are?"

He stared at her. "I have been in the Azn Bad Boys longer than you have. I was great Lung's second in command. Of course I will be the new leader."

"You were his only subordinate with powers until I came along," she countered. "By that logic, you were also the lowest ranking cape in his organisation."

"I am still the leader," he said stubbornly. "The Azn Bad Boys know me better than they know you."

She snorted. "You teleport and kill people. I make bombs that kill people in really inventive ways. I've got more imagination and creativity than you, therefore I'm the leader."

He pulled his pistol from the holster and pointed it at her. "I could kill you now. I am the leader."

"And I triggered deadman switches on most of the bombs in here when you started this argument. You wouldn't get out the door. I'm the leader."

The pistol did not waver. "You would still be dead."

He would do it, she realised. His death would not matter to him if she died too. And he probably thought he could get out in time anyway. "Okay, fine, you're the leader." Right up until I get the chance to do something about that.

"Good." He put the pistol away. "I need a bomb to kill the snake. What does this one do?" Reaching out, he picked up the nearest one. Which, as it happened, had already been activated as a part of her deadman switch. Moving it triggered the switch.

"Don't touch my—" But it was too late. The HUD in her goggles told her that the timer was now counting down. She lunged to grab it off him; only her (warm) fingerprint could shut it down in time.

He automatically recoiled, and her reaching fingers only managed to knock it out of his hand and send it rolling down the bench, bumping other bombs as it went.

Many of which she'd already activated with the deadman switch.

bip

bip

bip

bip

bip

bip

Red warnings scrolled up her HUD. Any single one of the bombs that had just been triggered, she could've shut down before it went off. Even three or four. But there were too many.

"Fuuuck! You've just killed us both, you moron!"

"Disarm them!" he shouted, pointing the pistol at her again.

"It takes five seconds per bomb, and we've got twenty seconds!" she screamed. "We don't have time!"

He dissolved into ash, and she heard him rattling the door handle. It was electronically locked, part of her deadman switch fuck-you. "Unlock this!" he bellowed.

"How about no!" He might be able to get away if she let him out, but he had two more doors to get through before he could get line of sight outside the blast radius. She figured the various bombs would take out the block, at least. As for her, she didn't have a chance. There wasn't enough time for her to reach the door, let alone …

Wait.

Time.

As the last few seconds ticked down, she darted sideways and grabbed one of the few bombs that hadn't already been activated. This was a time grenade: impact-detonated, it was to be thrown at the target, whereupon it would skip them through time for a given interval. She'd designed it to be used on annoyingly tough foes, so she could booby-trap their landing area with bombs that could kill them.

00:01.17

As she twisted the timer, an arm went around her neck and a knife touched her behind the ear. "Save us," growled Oni Lee.

00:00.83

There was no time left. She thwacked the grenade hard on the bench.

00:00.01

The lab vanished, to be replaced by a huge crater. They were falling. She screamed, suddenly aware of all the flaws in her makeshift escape plan.

The world blinked sideways, and she landed on rubble. Even the short drop was enough to knock the wind out of her, but she still had enough wits about her to watch two tiny figures fall all the way to the bottom of the crater. One of them was screaming in her voice, and flailing wildly. The impact sprayed blood across smooth vitrified glass … then the bodies and blood turned into ash that blew away with the wind.

Yanking the gas mask off, she sat up then vomited copiously, voiding her stomach of everything she'd eaten the day before … however long ago 'the day before' was. Because they'd surely been jumped through time, exactly as the grenade was intended to do. How long it had been, she wasn't sure; she'd just spun the timer as far to the right as it would go, and hoped against hope that it would work.

"Where are we? What did you do?" Oni Lee, when she looked around, had at least sheathed his knife. He stared around at the altered scenery.

"I saved our lives, just like you said." Alice wiped her mouth and chose to ignore the fact that he'd then saved her life. He wouldn't have been able to do it if she hadn't done it first. "I jumped us forward in time. That crater is what's left of my lab after you started playing lawn bowls with my bombs."

"Forward in time?" He paused for a moment, and she wondered if she was going to have to carefully explain the concept of time travel to him, using crayons and flash-cards. "How far?"

Oh, good. He still has a couple of functioning brain cells. "Not sure. Wouldn't be hours or days, they'd still be examining the hole. Probably not years, or there'd be water and dirt collected in the bottom. So … weeks? Months?"

"The Azn Bad Boys will believe we are dead." He retrieved an old flip-phone from a pouch. "I will inform them that their leader is alive."

"Well, while you do that, Imma find out what we've missed." Getting up, Alice spat a few times to get the last of the taste of the vomit out of her throat, then pulled the gas mask back down over her face. Then she took out her own phone, smugly pleased that she'd set it up with an autopay feature, drawing from her main account, and woke it up.

A couple of firmware updates called for her attention, but she put them to one side. Then she checked the date. It was Tuesday, the twenty-fourth of May. Jeez, more than a month.

Now she knew when she was, she started scrolling through the news sites, mentally noting the headlines as she went. This came to a screeching halt a very short time later, as she stared at the feed. "Son … of a bitch," she croaked. "Lee, you need to see this."

Oni Lee came to her side. "I need your phone. Mine isn't working."

She glanced at his screen, where it was saying that it was out of credit. "How do you pay for it?"

"I buy prepaid, monthly."

Somehow, she wasn't surprised. "Yeah, it's been more than a month. Your credit ran out. Gonna have to buy more. But you need to see this." She showed him the screen.

He looked at the screen. "It says the snake ate Leviathan."

"Well, yeah. The snake ate Leviathan. It ate him. Doesn't that say something to you?"

Oni Lee did not hesitate. "It means we need a bigger bomb to kill it."

She shook her head. "I'm pretty sure you're taking the wrong message away from this."

"It killed Lung. I must kill it. You will supply the bomb to kill it with. Or I will kill you."

For a one-note asshole, Alice decided, Oni Lee knew how to make his point. "Okay, fine. You've convinced me. I'll build you a bomb."

Hopefully, her secondary workshops wouldn't have been discovered by the authorities yet. Because if Oni Lee wanted her to build him a bomb, she was going to have to build him a damn bomb.

Now, what type to make that would actually kill the damned thing …?

<><>​

Four Days Later

"Holy shit. It actually worked." Alice stared off the edge of the roof at the gigantic reptile, entirely trapped—and motionless, thank all the nameless gods of science, mad and otherwise—within the sparkling field. "We got the bastard."

She'd thought they were dead when it looked in their direction just before Oni Lee threw the bomb, but it had worked perfectly, even cobbled together from substandard materials as it was. Oddly enough, she'd also thought she'd seen someone riding astride its neck, but there was nobody there and the field would've trapped anyone like that inside it. The only weird thing was the hat it was wearing in the middle of its broad head. She had no idea what that was about.

Looking back over her shoulder, she called out, "Hey, it's okay! We totally got it!" Oni Lee had immediately teleported away after throwing the bomb, but he'd left her behind. Which was absolutely something they were going to have to address, going forward.

He appeared beside her an instant later, looking down at the trapped creature. "Yes, but it is only trapped. How long will it be trapped for, and how do we kill it?"

"Oh, that bit's easy." She grinned inside the gas mask. "I can rig up a bomb that'll free its head only, and leave the rest of its body in stasis. Its heart won't be beating, and its lung won't be working either. Five, ten minutes tops, and we'll be able to start skinning the fucker. I'm thinking a snakeskin jacket would look real nice."

"No."

The single word, spoken from behind them, carried a level of power and gravitas that Alice had never heard before, even from people like Alexandria who were good at that sort of thing. She turned fast, just as Oni Lee did, wondering who could've snuck up on them like that. Part of her was impressed with how fast Lee got his pistol out and trained on the newcomer.

The rest of her brain was taken up with asking herself, okay, who the hell is this guy? Because it wasn't any cape she'd ever heard of or seen pictures of, though there was a passing resemblance to Myrddin. However, where the Chicago Protectorate leader put on a good 'wizard' act, this guy hit it right out of the park. There was the funny-looking hat, the long robes, the cool-looking wooden staff and the grey beard, but that wasn't all. There was something deeper down, something visceral, that gave her a powerful gut feeling that this guy was absolutely the real deal.

But then again, so was she.

"And who the hell are you supposed to be, buddy? The snake police?" Ooh, that was a good one. She'd have to write that down, later.

"No. I am the Master of the Castle, and Snek is my familiar." The wizard guy gestured with his free hand toward the trapped snake.

At the first move, Oni Lee shot him. Or rather, he pulled the trigger. There was a flat crack, a muzzle-flare, and a bullet flying out of the muzzle.

This last bit, Alice had never seen before. She'd also never seen a bullet slow down and stop in midair before, so that was new as well. And all the guy—the Master of the Castle, who she'd definitely never heard of before—had done was move his hand a bit.

Oni Lee was already acting. Yanking one of the grenades off his bandolier, he pulled the pin and let it go. This was something Alice had seen before, but always from a much greater distance. She knew how Oni Lee did this sort of thing; he would've started the teleport-clone thing before he ever pulled the pin, so the new version of him, wherever he ended up, would be holding a safe grenade, pin still securely in place.

All of which would've been perfectly okay—Oni Lee had honed his technique, and it worked for him—except that by doing so, the asshole had left her in the firing line again. Much more of this and she'd start to wonder if he even had her best interests at heart. Biting off the urge to yell something extremely unkind at him, she went for the only place she could see that would escape the explosion: off the roof. Hitting the pavement from twenty-plus feet up would hurt, but not as much as taking a grenade to the face from five feet away.

Alice was no stranger to high-adrenaline situations, and occasionally she'd even encountered the sensation where time seemed to stretch out to eternity when she was trying to evade danger. But this time was different. Normally, all she'd have time to think of was 'this is going to hurt' or something similar before the cracked and worn concrete stopped looming up at her and became part of her new life. But now she was halfway off the roof and had taken several breaths, and she still hadn't fallen.

She took an experimental breath, then another. Falling still hadn't happened. The grenade still hadn't gone off. Neither had Oni Lee—just barely visible from the corner of her eye—dissolved into ash. "Okay," she said out loud. "What the hell?"

And then things seemed to rewind a little. From her panicked dive off the roof, she was pulled back until she was standing in front of the wizardly cape again. The grenade was there as well, hanging in midair, with the case open and the bits and pieces spread out like a how-to manual.

"As I have already said, I am the Master of the Castle." The wizard tapped the gnarled staff on the roof of the building once, and both the grenade and Oni Lee's pistol vanished. So did all the other grenades on Oni Lee's bandolier. "I do not countenance such treacherous attacks on Snek with good grace. Bakuda and Oni Lee of Earth Bet, what have you to say for yourselves?"

Alice tried to move, but discovered that everything below the neck was totally unresponsive to her commands. From the way Oni Lee's head was twitching, he was suffering the same problem. Which meant they were dealing with a terrifyingly powerful Master, not to mention a Shaker and whatever he'd done to vanish the grenades and the gun. And Oni Lee still hadn't dissolved into ash, which strongly suggested that he couldn't.

"The snake ate Lung." Oni Lee's voice cut into Alice's frantic attempts to think of a way out of this. "It attacked the Azn Bad Boys. For that, it had to die."

Fuuuck! Fuck fuck fuck! Alice discarded her earlier notion that Oni Lee had brain cells to spare. Apparently he'd just used up his last one. "Ignore him," she blurted. "He's got a thing. His head. Brain damage or something."

The Master of the Castle glanced at her, then back at Oni Lee, his gaze piercing and knife-sharp. "So I see. You parahumans and your addictions to power. Even when they drain your very thoughts and drive you to attack one another, you cannot help but use them."

Stung, Alice struggled uselessly against her invisible bonds. "I'd like to see you do better," she spat.

"Were you to know me for who I am, you would not pose such a challenge." His voice was calm and reproving, before he raised it in a command. "Snek! Your Master calls!" Again, he tapped his staff on the rooftop.

Alice saw glowing rainbow ripples spread out from the impact point, across the roof and down the side of the building. She could not move her head to look over her shoulder, but a few seconds later she heard the dry rustling sound of the snake's scales. The huge blunt nose edged over the rooftop beside her, and she found herself under inspection by a gold-fringed eye as large as her head. Then the mouth opened to exhibit its extraordinary dentition as it spoke. "Hello, Masster. Thank you for ssaving me. Iss buzzy-bug girl well?"

"She is indeed, Snek." Where the Master's expression had been stern and forbidding the whole time he'd been talking to her and Oni Lee, for Snek he produced an austere smile. "She was quite concerned about your well-being. You have found good friends. I'm proud of you."

"Ssnek thinkss sso too, Masster." The snake seemed to preen at the praise. "Ssnek hass much fun chassing bad men with buzzy-bug girl and with Mouss. Monsster Lev-i-a-than wass alsso tassty." It curled its head around to survey Alice and Oni Lee. "Masster hass caught bad man and bad woman who caught Ssnek in trap."

"Yes, I have." The Master took on a pensive expression, one that Alice didn't trust for an instant. People with that level of power didn't do anything without having all their moves planned far ahead. "However, before I decide what to do with them, there is one other thing I must do. For fairness, if nothing else."

"Wait, what are you going to do?" Alice had already figured out that they were thoroughly screwed, but that last bit sounded ominous as fuck. "We've got rights—"

"Rights which you ignore whenever convenient," he interrupted. "However, set your mind at ease. You, I will not touch. Your comrade, on the other hand, has been sorely misused by his power."

Reaching out, the bearded man tapped Oni Lee on the forehead of the Kabuki mask he wore. A shimmering silvery glow settled over the black-clad assassin, then gradually faded out of view. Oni Lee shook his head as though dazed. "What … what did you do to me? My mind feels so clear."

"It was a simple enough spell." The Master of the Castle smiled briefly. "I reversed the damage done to your intellect by those perfidious powers you all seem to swear by. Now then, I offer you each a choice …"

<><>​

Taylor

With my mask tucked away in my storage pack, I munched on a pastry while I watched the show. I wasn't really sure who'd done the cooking but it was extremely tasty, and Snek had enjoyed larger pieces that had evidently been prepared with him in mind. "So, this happens a lot?" I asked Snek, as both Riley and the Master of the Castle were busy.

"Yess, buzzy-bug girl," Snek replied. "Ssometimess, Ssnek bringss bad men and women to Masster and he takess away problem powerss and ssendss them out into the world. They sseem happier there."

"Huh." It made for an odd kind of sense, but considering the number of villains that had simply vanished after encountering Snek, I could see how it worked. "Do you do this with every villain you catch? Because some of them are pretty nasty, just saying."

Snek didn't answer for a moment, and we watched as Oni Lee's powers were decanted from his head and stored in a large crystal-clear glass jar as swirls of flickering darkness. There were more than a few jars of this type lining the shelves of the laboratory.

"No, buzzy-bug girl. Ssome bad people, Ssnek jusst eatss." His tone was completely matter of fact. "But all otherss have chossen to losse powerss and sstay on Masster'ss world."

I tilted my head. "Aren't you worried that they might … well, go and be criminals here, too?"

The Master of the Castle placed the jar on the shelf next to Bakuda's and turned back to us. "That is always a possibility, Taylor Hebert of Earth Bet. There are indeed those who are predisposed to crime from the beginning. However, it is my observation that when removed from those influences—both inward and outward—that placed them in such a situation, many will rethink their ways. I offer that chance. And for those that choose the way of banditry nonetheless?" He chuckled dryly. "Here, justice is swift and efficient."

"Oh." I figured, in hindsight, that a world with magic might not be as medieval and backward as popular culture might describe. "Um … so. Snek, are you still up for that patrol?"

The large head came up and he smiled. "Ssnek iss always ready to have fun with friendss."

"Awesome." I handed the plate back to Riley, and retrieved my mask. "Thank you again for saving Snek."

The Master of the Castle nodded in my direction. "Thank you for being his friend."

I swung my leg over Snek's neck. "That's no problem at all. He's a good boy."

"Thank you, buzzy-bug girl." Snek turned and started wriggling toward the door. "Buzzy-bug girl hold on."

"Kick their asses for me, Taylor!" called Riley.

I gave her a thumb's up over my shoulder, just before the door opened and Snek opened a portal on the other side of it. "Totally."

And then we were gone again.



End of Part Eighteen

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Nineteen: New Friends and Old

[A/N 1: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

[A/N 2: I apologise for how late this chapter is coming out. The month has been horrendous.]



Far From Earth Bet

Canary

"Hey."

Paige paused as she stepped out through the theatre's rear door. The guardsman whose job it was to patrol that area stood across the street, looking relaxed in the light of the everfire torch mounted on the wall above him. He wasn't the one who had spoken; that person was leaning against the wall alongside the door, far enough away to be non-threatening. Her arms were folded and she had her head turned to look at Paige.

"Uh … hello?" Paige asked. "Can I help you?"

The strange woman straightened up and brushed her tunic down. She was tall and elegant even in the roughspun clothing, with a long neck and long limbs. Her brown hair had been tied back with a leather cord. "I guess … I just wanted to meet you. Say hi. Maybe chat a bit, if you wanted to. Name's Elmora."

The phrasing was oddly familiar; Paige tilted her head slightly. "Wait a minute … where are you from?"

Elmora chuckled. "The Big Apple, originally. New York, New York. The city so conceited, it had to be repeated." She nodded toward Paige. "I never got to attend any of your concerts, but I liked your music. Some of your angrier songs could've been written about me."

Paige recalled her 'angrier' songs. These had been written after her boyfriend had broken up with her. He'd also been cheating on her with her manager, and the two of them had been working to sabotage her gigs, so she'd taken some satisfaction in booting both of them out of her life. Her gigs had improved after that, as had her position on the charts. She still wasn't sure whether this was due to the content of the songs she'd written in the aftermath, or the departure of the people trying to torpedo her career for their own personal gain.

"I'm glad you liked them," she said cautiously. "I wasn't in a great place when I wrote them, but it helped to express what I was feeling." She paused. "So … who were you, back on Bet, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Um …" Elmora turned her head slightly, putting her face in shadow from the everfire torch mounted above the theatre's rear door. "Promise you won't run screaming? Because I'm not that person. Not anymore."

"That's kind of ominous." Paige forced a giggle, then glanced across the road at the guard, who was watching the interaction with what she gauged to be bored interest. "So, I'm guessing you were a villain?" Elmora didn't seem to be armed, nor did she appear crazy, but Paige had encountered unhinged fans during her time. Anyone could snap and be dangerous.

"I was, yeah. Fourteen times over." Elmora drew a deep breath, then let it out. "Up in the Castle, they explained how having powers fucks with your head. I enjoyed being Quarrel. It felt right. It felt good. Hurting people. Killing people. But the Master rolled that back when he took my powers away. Like I said, I'm not that person anymore."

There was what Paige judged to be real regret in Elmora's voice. She'd heard it enough times in her own voice to recognise it. "That's … good to hear. So, um, you said 'fourteen times'. Did you rebrand a dozen times or something? Because I … wait. Fourteen?" That number rang a really ominous bell in her mind.

Elmora must have accurately read her expression, because she nodded. "Yeah. As Quarrel, I wasn't really famous. But then I killed the Butcher."

"Oh." Paige knew she'd gotten it right. Everyone had heard of the Butcher. If you killed the Butcher, you became the Butcher. And standing in front of her was the woman who had headed one of the most violent gangs in the continental United States. She suppressed the urge to back away. She said that wasn't her anymore. I should really give her a chance.

"Yeah. 'Oh'." Elmora grimaced, probably at the look on Paige's face. "This was a bad idea. I should go."

"No, no. It's alright." Paige really hoped it would be. The temptation to talk to someone from Bet was strong, even if she was a villain—had been a villain, she admonished herself. "How did you get here from Bet, anyway? Was it Snek?"

"Yeah, it was Snek. And Mouse Protector, but mainly Snek." Elmora shrugged. "They put down the Teeth like it was light exercise, then Snek took me to his Master to get all the voices out of my head, and my powers too. Since then, I guess I've been figuring out who I am, all over again."

"I suppose I have, too." Paige glanced back up at the theatre. "The Master of the Castle helped me sign up for the Bardic College. Fortunately, a lot of the stuff I already know can transfer across. I'll be graduating soon, and I'll be able to go out and set up my own performances. Do some travelling while I'm at it."

Elmora tilted her head slightly. "Isn't that a bit dangerous? I mean, right now you've got the College backing you. Nobody messes with a Bardic journeyman. But once you've been awarded your Harp and sash and leave town, you're on your own. And trust me when I say this from my own personal experience; there are assholes everywhere. Especially once you leave here and go out into the big wide world."

The Harp she was referring to was a large harp-headed brooch used to fasten the Bardic sash across the body for display during performances, and thus advertise that the player was a graduate of the Bardic college. The sash itself was provided to the Bard in question by the Weaver's Guild; it was woven to their personal specification, incorporating whatever designs they felt were most fitting for them. It didn't matter that most Bards didn't use the harp at all. It had been the symbol of the College for untold years, and that was all there was to it.

"Yeah, I know," Paige admitted. "I was thinking of just sticking to the main roads and bigger cities." There was danger there too, she knew, but the call was irresistible. "Besides, I do know a little Bardic magic."

"Yeah, just enough to get into trouble with." Elmora folded her arms. "Got a better idea. I'm not far from graduating as a bowyer and fletcher. At least, I know enough now that I can keep working at it on my own, and I already know how to kick ass. We can travel together. You play your music, I'll watch your back, and we split the take. Hell, I'll even take an Oathbond so you don't have to worry about travelling with an ex-supervillain."

Paige blinked in surprise. Oathbonding was a simple but powerful spell that could be performed by some casters, to ensure that any two given people carried out a specified agreement over a particular time. Both parties had to be fully aware of all parts of the agreement, and in agreement with them, before the spell would take hold. There were several people in the town who would perform one for a fee. The fact that Elmora was offering to participate in one meant she was serious.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Sure." Elmora smiled crookedly. "Might even be fun. What do you say?"

Slowly, Paige nodded. "Sure. It'll definitely be better than travelling on my own, anyway."

"Excellent." Elmora glanced up and down the street. "Walk you to your lodgings?"

"Thanks. I'd like that. So, which of my songs did you like best, anyway?"

"Well, Tears Like Acid Rain just cut straight to my heart where you said …"

They strolled off down the street under the light of the everfire torches, their voices fading away into the distance.

<><>​

Glory Girl

Vicky perched atop the Forsberg Gallery, looking out over the city. Part of her was listening for sirens or other signs that anything was amiss, but most of her thought process had been taken over by wondering about the future. Specifically, the future for her and New Wave once the Protectorate moved most of its capes out of Brockton Bay.

It was no longer even an open secret that Brockton Bay's criminal underworld had given up the ghost and moved to greener pastures. Everyone knew that the few villains left in town were keeping their heads all the way down, lest they draw the attention of the city's weirdest new celebrity: the giant snake called Snek. Once a booming Wild West of supervillain activity, the city was now more like a ghost town when it came to finding so much as a mugger to yell at.

If things got much quieter, she'd heard, the ENE branches of the PRT and Protectorate were going to shutter their premises entirely and hand over operations to Boston. As it was, they were already drafting lists of who would be transferred to other departments and who would stay behind in Brockton Bay for the duration. She kind of understood why, but she didn't have to like it.

Because Dean was one of the Wards slated to be transferred.

She sniffled—because of the chilly air this high, and totally not because she was about to cry—and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. It wasn't fair. Their relationship had been as steady as it ever was, helped a lot by the drop in crime which meant they could hang out together free of stress, and now this was happening. Just because Director Piggot wants to take early retirement …

No, she decided. That's not fair on the Director. Emily Piggot was a hardass all the way down the line, that was true, but she wasn't one to shirk her duty. If the ENE branch was being shut down—later rather than sooner, but still—and she was retiring, it wasn't from her choice.

Still, it sucked.

She'd spoken to Dean in the aftermath of the Fallen attack—too late to meet Snek, dammit!—and he'd actually supported the move. He and Chris had been cleared of any lingering Master/Stranger influence (apparently, Valefor and the enigmatic woman called Mama Mathers had been eaten alive) but the PRT higher-ups wanted him to undergo psychological testing for other side-effects. She had a particular fear of being Mastered herself, so that unfortunately made sense to her. It was just that he had to go to Boston or New York for the testing, which effectively meant a one-way transfer.

To add insult to injury, the adult members of New Wave had decided that New Wave would remain in Brockton Bay as 'hometown heroes', keeping the flag flying or whatever they were supposed to do. The unspoken suggestion was that Vicky should stay with them, even though she'd been entertaining thoughts of splitting off and joining the Wards to be closer to Dean. This was looking more and more inviting by the day, especially since even Amy had floated the idea once or twice of striking out on her own once she'd saved enough money, and going into the healing business as a rogue cape.

The trouble was, every time she'd considered her future, in her mind's eye Ames had always been there as well. Sisters in all but blood, they'd grown up together, sharing confidences and fears alike. Even after they'd both triggered with entirely different powers, they still had what Vicky considered to be a workable dynamic. But like her relationship with Dean and with the rest of New Wave, this was also threatening to tear asunder. She wasn't sure which one to save, or even if any of them could be.

I wish I knew what to do.

The whisper of scales on the roof behind her was barely enough warning before a huge serpentine head slid into place alongside her. It turned slightly, and a gold-fringed eye peered down at her. "Hello, gold princcesss girl. You look ssad. Can Ssnek help?"

She jumped a little, because who didn't jump when a sixty-foot constrictor decided to show up alongside them on top of the roof, twenty-six floors above ground? "H-hello, Snek," she replied, determined to show that she wasn't rattled, even though she was. "I'm not sure that you can, to be honest. Thanks for the offer, though."

Perched on Snek's broad head, the 'Snek fedora' made famous by the news presented a puzzle that she wasn't quite ready to question. She also decided to not touch the name 'gold princess girl' with a ten-foot barge pole. If Eric got wind of that, I'd never hear the end of it.

"Ssnek likess to help. Gold princcesss girl wantss to come chasse bad men with Ssnek?" The sheer innocent joy in the question drew her in, very likely as he'd known it would.

Despite the funk she was feeling at the moment, the notion perked her up. "Where are you going to find bad men at this time of night?"

The smile on Snek's features broadened even further. "Ssnek can alwayss find bad men. But gold princcesss girl will have to ride Ssnek'ss neck."

"Uh … I can fly, you know." She lifted off the rooftop and landed on her feet. "You don't need to carry me."

"Ssnek knowss. But Ssnek travelss through wriggle-holess. Workss besst if gold princcesss girl iss riding."

Vicky wasn't sure what Snek meant, but Mouse Protector could teleport, and there were pictures all over the net of her riding Snek into battle against villains. If it was good enough for the mouse-themed hero, she decided, it was good enough for her.

"Okay, then," she said. "Let's go do this thing." Stepping over to Snek, she swung her leg over the snake's broad neck.

"Gold princcesss girl hold on." Snek dived off the building, a portal opening up in front of him.

Oh, so that's how he gets around. But by then Vicky was too busy holding on.

<><>​

Low Earth Orbit

The Third considered the situation as it had been doing for quite some time, running simulations and determining options. Things were shaking up on the planet below, though not quite in the ways the Third would have liked them to. The destabilisation effects introduced by the Third and its counterparts were in turn being re-stabilised by an anomalous entity, occasionally intruding on the local space-time from coordinates that the Third had no way of reaching.

Worse, the anomalous entity threw all the Third's observations askew, merely by existing. Its actions could not be predicted, nor backtraced. The only way to observe it was by directly detecting its actions via the mental activity of other life-forms in real time, or by carefully observing the environment and detecting where it had been.

Several potentially useful shard-hosts had been removed from consideration while the Third was pondering this, but the most damaging action had come about when the anomalous entity had engaged the Second. Not content with merely defeating and driving off the Second, the entity had destroyed it, apparently consuming both its outer form and inner core.

This could not stand.

The Third had no experience in dealing with such entities—that, indeed, was why the creature was designated as 'anomalous'—but there existed several avenues by which it believed it could draw the anomalous entity in close enough to attack and destroy it. One potentially effective course of action involved the shard host with whom Snek associated most often.

And so, it refined its plans. Once they were complete, it set them in motion.

<><>​

Mouse Protector

It had been a long week. Diane was looking forward to having a quiet night in, maybe watching a movie then faceplanting on her bed and sleeping through until mid-morning or later. If the world needed saving in the meantime, they could call on someone else. It didn't matter that her powers gave her the agility and vitality of a twenty-year-old; rooftop running for the sake of it just didn't appeal anymore.

Pulling a brush through her long curly hair, she wandered out into the living room in her pyjamas and settled down on the sofa with her feet up and a bowl of vaguely nutritious snacks on her lap. She was just reaching for the remote with her free hand when the song reached her ears. It was faint at first, then became more and more audible as it went on. When she recognised it, her eyes widened and she bounced up off the sofa, spraying her snacks everywhere.

Fuck! Simurgh! Her thoughts were slow and dragging in contrast to the urgency she felt. Already, she could feel the twisting, turning of her thought patterns inside her head, even though there were no Endbringer sirens sounding that she could hear. Got to teleport! Got to get away! She had to tell people that the Simurgh could attack without warning.

No. The voice was part of the singing, yet separate enough to freeze her where she was. A directive settled into place: she was not to teleport. Part of her mind accepted this as the way it should be, while a deeper part raged and fought vainly against the cage being built around it.

Her attitudes continued to change, even as she calmly went to the stand where she'd stored the armour granted her by the Master of the Castle. One piece at a time, she donned it, moving as smoothly as she ever did. Once she was finished, she drew the sword from its sheath. The Simurgh-overlay of her personality smiled viciously as she examined the blade, then slid it back into its sheath.

As she opened the window and climbed out onto the fire escape, she felt the Simurgh allow the tiny, trapped portion of her to express itself one last time.

Snek … it whispered. Help me.

With the bait set out, even that part was overwritten, and Mouse Protector was all monster.

<><>​

Glory Girl

Vicky wasn't sure which city they were in, but she didn't much care either. This was fun. Snek definitely had the knack of finding bad people in the act of doing bad things, bypassing the entire 'patrolling for hours and hours' bullshit altogether. And he wasn't even finding pickpockets or smash and grab artists; while mildly satisfying to deal with, they were usually people in a bad way themselves.

No, the people Snek was zeroing in on were the predators; specifically, the ones who preyed on women and girls. The ones Vicky hated with every fibre of her being.

They weren't all capes, or even mostly so, but that didn't matter. For instance, the bunch she and Snek were going after right now consisted of one guy in a mask and costume and four of his buddies, unmasked, in regular clothing. Vicky didn't recognise the costume, and didn't care enough to ask.

They'd been menacing a bunch of girls dressed for the nightclubs who had apparently wandered down the wrong street, demanding money or worse. Again, Vicky cared exceedingly little about the actual details. She was a broad-strokes sort of girl, and she was quite willing to use these assholes to sweep up the whole street in broad strokes if she had to, in order to get her message across. The message being: 'Don't attack women.'

Instead of the "Shit! Capes!" that she usually heard when she came upon such a crime in progress, one of the sidekicks—or minions, being the affiliates of a villain rather than a hero—pointed and shouted, "What the fuck is that?"

She trusted that he was referring to Snek rather than her; flying capes were almost ubiquitous in pop culture, for obvious reasons. Still, she had to wonder what rock he'd been living under that he hadn't heard of Snek or seen his image on TV. Especially since Snek had eaten Leviathan.

The PRT could even apparently get in contact with him on PHO via his friend 'Good Girl Riley', whoever that was. Through her, he'd confirmed that he was going to keep coming back to Brockton Bay because 'Snek friends live there'. Which was apparently the only reason the PRT was willing to scale back operations in the ENE region. When Snek moved into an area, crime moved out.

"It's Snek, you moron!" yelled the cape. "Run!" Not waiting to see if his friends did as they were told, he turned and started bounding off down the street, jumping higher and higher with each step with smoke and flame billowing around his feet and ankles.

"I've got the cape!" Vicky advised Snek, then powered after the fleeing asshole. She wasn't sure if his power was just super-leaping or if he could transition to actual powered flight, but she still didn't actually care. Just as he was about to touch down after a leap that had carried him sixty feet, she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and flew upward with him. "Hi," she said.

"Let me go, you bitch!" he yelped, twisting around to point his hands up toward her.

She knew what that meant; whatever Blaster power he was using for his Mover effect was also very likely present in his hands. So she let go of the back of his costume and grabbed him by the hands. "Go ahead," she invited him. "I'm invincible, and I will break your hands if you try it." As an added incentive to behave, she gave him a shot of her aura.

He didn't try it.

When she got back to where the girls were, Snek was also there, apparently lecturing the four would-be muggers. "Hurting ladiess iss wrong," he said sternly as Vicky swooped down with the last of the group. "Ssnek doess not approve. Ssnek eatss bad men."

"Here we go," Vicky reported, dropping the cape on his ass next to the others, then addressing the girls. "Has anyone called the cops and PRT yet?"

"I have," said one of the girls, raising her hand. "They said they'd be here really soon. Thanks." She paused. "Uh … are you really Glory Girl?"

Vicky nodded. Nobody was asking Snek if he was really Snek; it would be really hard to fake being a sixty-foot snake. "That's me. Snek and me, we're just going out and about, stopping bad guys where we find them."

While the would-be muggers sulked, Snek and Vicky posed for selfies with the girls; Snek seemed to enjoy making friends more than anything else. The arrival of the authorities was the signal for Vicky to go back to professional mode, verifying once more that she was indeed Glory Girl. Just as the cape was loaded (looking very unhappy indeed) into the PRT van—it turned out they were in Minneapolis—Snek raised his head.

"Mouss!" he said, sounding more urgent than he had all night. "Ssnek musst help!"

"Mouse Protector is in trouble?" Vicky felt a surge of adrenaline. "Where?"

"Ssnek will go to. Gold princcesss girl will come help?"

"Well, duh." Lofting into the air, Vicky settled astride Snek's neck. "Let's go!"

"Gold princcesss girl hold on!" Opening up a portal, Snek blurred through it.

[A/N: Yes, evil cliffhangers are evil. Mwahahaha.]



End of Part Nineteen

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Twenty: Saving Private Mousey

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Glory Girl

They emerged from the teleport portal—what Snek had called a 'wriggle-hole', if Vicky recalled correctly—into open air, over a large city. Her guess was Manhattan, unless those were two totally different Twin Towers in the distance. As a flier, she'd studied aerial photos of most of the major US population centres, just in case. But she didn't dwell on that for very long, because what was in front of both of them was a hell of a lot more important than 'where the hell am I?'.

None other than the goddamn fucking Simurgh was hovering over an apartment building, way down below them. Vicky wasn't sure what was worse; the fact that the Simurgh had chosen to visit New York, that she herself was currently in New York while the Simurgh was there, or that nobody else seemed to have the faintest idea of what was going on. Even the Endbringer sirens were silent.

Given that last data point, it would've been tempting to dismiss the supposed presence of the Simurgh as a cape trick of some sort, but Vicky never doubted its veracity for an instant. She could feel waves of influence beating on her mind, attempting to sway her into believing that nothing untoward was going on … and getting absolutely nowhere.

While she held a high opinion of her ability to take a hit—any hit—and keep on going, that didn't apply to mental attacks. Mind control was one thing she was legitimately terrified of, and to which she was just as vulnerable as any other teenage girl. Whatever was stopping the Simurgh's attacks from getting through, it was not her force field.

"Snek!" she called out as she flew downward alongside the now-falling snake. "Is that you?" Shielding my mind, she meant.

"Masster protectss Ssnek friendss," he replied blithely. "Gold princcesss girl sstop Mouss. Mouss not Mouss. Ssnek sstop turkey bird lady."

Part of Vicky's mind whited out for a second, trying to pretend that the giant talking snake had not just called the Hope-Killer 'turkey bird lady', and failing. Whatever the Simurgh had been called in the past—and she had surely been called many things, few of them complimentary—that absolutely had to take the cake. The cognitive dissonance was so strong that Vicky nearly missed the reference to Snek's Master—not something we've got time to talk about right now, dammit!—but the information that Mouse Protector wasn't herself definitely grabbed her attention.

Fuck. She's been turned into a Simurgh bomb. Is that bitch going to be hitting all of Snek's friends like this? This was something else she didn't have time to dwell on. "Got it." Accelerating downward, she started scanning the area for Mouse Protector's distinctive armour.

As Vicky veered out and around the Simurgh, the Endbringer turned and reached for her, only for Snek to arrive a moment later, wrapping his coils around the Simurgh's winged body. Vicky had an instant to register the shocked and surprised expression on the Simurgh's normally impassive features before she blinked out of existence. Wait, the Simurgh can teleport?

Again, this was something Vicky had to shove on the shelf of 'things we're going to have to talk about later, because now is Not The Time'—it was getting rather crowded—because she'd just spotted Mouse Protector.

She'd met the irreverent hero before, but only in passing. Never had she seen Mouse Protector unmasked, or even learned her name. But now, the veteran cape stood at the edge of the roof of the apartment complex, wearing all her armour save for the helmet, her face uncovered and her sword in her hand.

Okay, I can do this. She's been Mastered. I just have to stop her from doing anything bad until Snek can chase the Simurgh away. Then he can deal with it. She'd heard whispers about Snek's Master, and hoped they were all true.

As Vicky flashed down toward her, Mouse Protector looked up. The devil-may-care grin that normally adorned her face when she was thoroughly humiliating her foes had changed subtly; now it was cold and calculating. Vicky had been intending to tap her on the way past to put her on her ass, but as the sword that had sliced chunks off Leviathan came up and around, she acted on instinct and dodged aside at the last instant.

At the same time, Mouse Protector swung the sword. It sliced through the air with a sound like a razor cutting cloth, though Vicky suspected that bit was due to her imagination.

As she slowed her upward swoop and looked around, she wondered briefly if she shouldn't have pressed harder with the attack. If she hit the force field, she'd be on her ass anyway, right? Or the impact would've knocked the sword out of her hand. It had happened before. Being impervious to the first strike was sometimes very useful.

Then, as she registered the movement of air against her face, she realised that her force field was down. This was not the usual state of affairs. A punch barely carried enough force to knock it down, and while a sword blow would probably manage it, it shouldn't have stayed down for this long.

Looking down at where Mouse Protector was—still standing, still holding the sword—she saw a triangle of white cloth lying at the Mastered hero's feet. Wait, where'd that come from? She grabbed her cape and held it out to the side; to her astonishment, one corner had been neatly sliced off, as though cut with scissors.

Jesus Christ, she went straight through my force field and cut my cape! How the hell did she do that?

"Come on, let's try that again," Mouse Protector offered, holding out her free hand and doing her widely recognised 'come at me' gesture. Vicky had seen her do it with many villains on the news, and they'd always come off second best. "You're always so smug and irritating. People will positively cheer once I've removed a limb or two."

Simurgh bombs couldn't be talked down. Everyone was fully aware of that. But Vicky, even looking at the chilling expression on Mouse Protector's face, knew she had to try anyway.

"You're better than this," she urged. "You have to fight it. Fight her. You're a hero. I know you're in there somewhere."

Mouse Protector's features became strained. "Yes," she gritted. "I am a hero. I can fight this." She reached out, her expression pleading. "Take my hand. Give me strength."

"Drop the sword first," Vicky said at once. The acting was top-notch, but there was no way someone could break through the Simurgh's conditioning that quickly.

"Hah, not a chance in hell." Mouse Protector let the strained expression go, returning to the more sinister smirk. "No? Not falling for it? Why'd you even try if you weren't going to believe me?"

"Because I'm idealistic, not stupid." Vicky cast about, trying to figure out how to subdue Mouse Protector without seriously injuring or killing her. "You're basically a clone of the Simurgh in there, yeah? You do know that Snek ripped Leviathan apart and ate him, right? Said he tasted like chicken. He's gonna do the same with her too. You wait and see."

Mouse Protector laughed out loud; a high, carefree sound. It was eerie. She sounded exactly like she did in every video clip where she was kicking some lowlife's ass.

"It's not her in here with me, you idiot," she said scornfully. "I'm still me, just better. I can tell you every detail of my life. Did you know, I used to date Chevalier? He's a good guy, but I broke up with him because he's too much of a boy scout. I like a bit of bad in my bed."

Vicky's stomach clenched. She didn't know what would be worse; if Mouse Protector was telling the truth and exposing the underbelly of her life, or if she was making up details from whole cloth in a totally believable way. Either way, she couldn't afford to let the older hero keep talking like this. Even if Mouse Protector survived—and with the threat that sword posed, it was getting harder and harder to figure out how to take her down nonlethally—her career and reputation might never recover from the hit.

"Shut up." Vicky took a deep breath, and said it louder. "Shut up! You're not Mouse Protector! You're just pretending to be her!"

The sword spun in Mouse Protector's grasp; her expression was as mocking as her tone. "Go ahead. Make me."

<><>​

Snek

Snek is enjoying fight with turkey bird lady. Knows her name is really monster-Simurgh but thinks turkey bird lady is funnier. She has done something with Mouse to make her not-Mouse, but gold princess girl is there to stop Mouse from hurting other people.

Turkey bird lady can go from here to there like Snek does with wriggle-holes. She is trying to get away from Snek. Master has shown Snek how to smell monster-power, so she is always surprised when he comes out of wriggle-hole, but she does not like surprise. Snek does not understand. Surprises are fun.

Snek could swallow Mouse and put her in not-eat place, but would not fix. Turkey bird lady has done something to Mouse that only Master can help with, and if Snek tried to eat Mouse, turkey bird lady would attack another Snek friend. So Snek needs to end threat of turkey bird lady.

Wriggle-hole opens behind turkey bird lady and Snek tries to chomp on wing with big shiny ball in joint. Master has big collection of balls like that. They are very tasty, and if Master finds two the same, he lets Snek eat the other one. Snek hopes Master already has this one. Looks nice and crunchy.

Just as Snek's teeth close on wing, turkey bird lady goes away again. This time, she does not go near. She goes very far. Really high up, where no air. Snek has only been that high a few times. Very boring, nothing to do.

Snek pops out of wriggle-hole far behind turkey bird lady. She is staring down at world and smoothing wings and feathers. Snek has bitten one arm and some smaller wings off. They were tasty, but not as nice as crunchy ball in big wing will be.

Turkey bird lady is still staring at world. Snek cannot see face, but thinks she is worried. Master has shown Snek how to move in no-air-place. Wriggling carefully, Snek sneaks up behind turkey bird lady.

This time she loses two more wings and lots of feathers when Snek chomps down.

She goes away again.

Snek follows.

This is lots of fun.

Snek enjoys playing hide and seek.

<><>​

Glory Girl

The standoff came to a head when Mouse Protector pulled out a small rubber puck, held it for a moment, then hurled it far out away from the building. Vicky knew exactly what it was: a teleport marker. Without hesitation, she swooped after it and caught it, then crushed it in her hand.

She wasn't sure if Mouse Protector's markers could be placed on literally anything or if they required something over a certain size, but she was going with 'over a certain size'. The rubber resisted her strength for a moment, but she could bend steel in her hands so it didn't resist long. Bits and pieces of the puck fell toward the street below as Vicky turned back … just in time to see Mouse Protector throw two other pucks in two different directions at once.

Fuck it. Vicky knew that Mouse Protector was not in her right mind, but there was a limit to the amount of restraint she should be using. She was sure that Mouse Protector herself, were she in her right mind, would agree to this. Flying directly at the mouse-themed hero, she dipped down at the last second and punched the parapet, sending a spray of pieces at Mouse Protector.

The sword came out faster than Vicky would've believed possible, and the largest chunks were cut in half before they could reach Mouse Protector. More than a few got through the defence, but bounced off her armour without even leaving a mark.

"Mice try, Gory Girl. I rate that C for Cheddar." Mouse Protector saluted her with the sword, then vanished.

Great. Now she pulls out the mouse and cheese puns?

Vicky didn't even spend time thinking about the mangling of her own cape name as she flew out over the building, searching for where Mouse Protector might have gotten to. She'd seen the directions they were thrown in, but not how far, or where they might have bounced to.

There was nobody near where the first one seemed to have gone to, so she flew on. As capable as she was, she knew damn well she was in over her head. But if she took the time to send out an alert on her phone, Mouse Protector could kill ten people by the time she got as many words out. And she would kill people so long as she was under the Simurgh's influence; Vicky didn't doubt that for an instant.

The screech of tyres on asphalt got her attention and she accelerated around the corner, flying ten feet off the street. Up ahead, a car had swerved and struck a light-pole; one of its headlights was out, though Vicky couldn't be sure if that was because of the accident or due to Mouse Protector's attack.

For she had surely struck the car, carving off a large section of its front corner and possibly damaging the front wheel, which was probably the cause of the crash. Right at that moment, Mouse Protector was leaping from the hood of the car to land next to the driver's side door. Another slash with that impossibly sharp sword, and most of the door was sliced away, to crash onto the roadway.

As Mouse Protector drew the sword back to skewer the unfortunate driver, Vicky came hurtling in. She briefly considered tackling Mouse Protector, but the corrupted hero's reflexes were just short of insane, and she could probably both kill Vicky and evade the attack at the same time, thus making a mockery of the whole attempt. So instead, Vicky tried to play it smart.

Flying up to the front of the car, she slowed down just enough that running into the front of it wouldn't drop her force field; then she exerted her power in a burst of power and speed, shoving the whole car (disabled wheel and all) backward down the street as far and fast as she could. Mouse Protector's sword flashed in the corner of her eye, and she felt agony bite into her calf muscle, but then she was past the point of direct danger.

"Run!" she shouted to the people in the car. "Get away from here!"

Hovering upward as they obeyed, she looked for Mouse Protector, knowing the cut on her leg had to be pretty serious from the warm feeling of blood running into her boot. But right now, her priority had to be stopping the hero-turned-villain. She didn't have the option of stepping back and letting someone else deal with it while she tended to her wound.

Lazily, Mouse Protector flicked her sword so that the blood flew off it. She started toward Vicky, one measured step at a time. "Fly away, and I'll go after those people," she promised. "Fight me, and I won't."

Vicky opened her mouth to reply, but was distracted by the Simurgh appearing overhead, apparently hiding behind a building. She was a mess; her wings were even more chaotically disarranged than normal, she only had half a left arm, and several of her wings had no feathers at all on them. This was the worst shape Vicky had ever seen her in, in all the footage she'd viewed of Endbringer fights. Even more unexpected was the expression on her face: normally impassive in the midst of the destruction she caused, now she was showing actual fear.

And then, from above, Snek appeared out of one of his 'wriggle-holes'. Impressively fanged mouth wide open—seriously, Hookwolf at his most metallic looked less dangerous than Snek's dentition—he dropped straight down toward her, body held vertical as he fell. Vicky had heard of 'death from above', and had even applied the principle herself a few times, against Brutes and the engine blocks of cars, but this was a whole new level of the concept.

Mouse Protector raised her sword and pointed, and the Simurgh looked up; the last expression that Vicky saw on her face could've been most readily described as 'oh, fuck me'. Then Snek arrived with an impact that drove the Simurgh downward to smash into the asphalt between Vicky and Mouse Protector, his jaws clashing shut around the Endbringer's head, body and largest wing. The word 'chomp' probably sufficed, but Vicky still felt it was less than adequate.

With the Simurgh's legs and a couple of her minor wings still sticking out of his mouth, Snek grinned at Vicky, then flicked his tail around, knocking Mouse Protector clear off her feet. The sword flew out of her hand, tumbling end over end to land point-first in the street in front of Vicky. Mouse Protector struggled to her feet, only to be wrapped up in an unbreakable bear hug by the end of Snek's tail. Snek turned his attention to Vicky and nodded at the sword, then ducked his head in the same way he'd done when offering her a ride before. He was evidently polite enough to not speak with his mouth full, but the invitation was clear.

Pulling her cape off, Vicky wrapped it around her leg wound and tied it tight. It stained red almost immediately, and she was starting to feel woozy, which meant she needed medical attention really damn soon, but pre-Simurgh Mouse Protector had waxed lyrical about Snek's Master, so she decided to make a leap of faith. With her waning strength, she grabbed the sword and yanked it out of the asphalt. When she settled down over Snek's neck, she found herself slumping forward over his broad head. "Snek … don't feel so great …"

"Glld prnnccsss grrl hlld nnn."

Not my call.

<><>​

A Short Period of Awe and Wonder Later

"Almost done," Riley said. Lying face-down on the padded table with her head pillowed on her arms, Vicky knew she should be feeling the needle stitching her leg wound closed, but all that was coming through were faint tugs. "How are you doing? Any problems?"

Vicky shook her head. "Nope. I'm feeling pretty great, actually." She'd been woken up to the smell of delicious pastries shortly after her arrival. Somehow, they'd boosted her energy levels and made up for the prior blood loss. Since then, she'd been trying to get her head around the impossibilities she was seeing.

"Excellent." Riley made a couple more stitches, then seemed to tie it off. "This is enchanted thread—I have no idea how it works, but I know it does—which will speed the healing process, keep the wound clean, and vanish once you're healed. It won't even leave a scar."

"Not sure how Amy will deal with that," Vicky mused with a grin. "She's used to being the healer. Though I get the impression she isn't thrilled with that sometimes."

"Maybe she could come through to this world for a vacation," Riley suggested. "You can get up now, by the way. There'd be people down in the towns who could do with a bit of healing, but not as egregiously as they were back in Bet. She could have the leisure to stop and smell the roses in between times."

"I might mention it," Vicky agreed, rolling over and sitting up to swing her legs down over the edge of the table. One of her boots sat nearby; the other had been borne off, along with her cape, to deal with the sword damage and the extreme bloodstains.

Sliding off the table to land on her bare feet, she took a few tentative steps. Her calf muscle twinged very slightly, but showed no other sign of having been nearly severed by an insanely sharp blade less than fifteen minutes before. "Damn, you are good. Or is that magic too?"

Riley shook her head with a chuckle. "I don't do magic. I am actually that good. So thanks; it's nice to hear that I haven't lost my touch."

"Yeah, about that." Vicky tilted her head. "You're clearly from Bet, and you're a medical expert, but I don't think I've ever heard of you. If you don't mind me asking, how did you get here, and who were you back home?"

"You're thinking 'hero'," Riley said, a shadow seeming to pass over her features. "Think 'villain'. I was one of the worst of the worst. Then Snek brought me here, the boss dug all the crap out of my head, and I was given a second chance."

Vicky frowned. There couldn't be that many blonde-haired tweenage villains who specialised in medicine … "Oh." It was horrifically obvious once she looked past the overalls, the bright pink T-shirt and the brass-bound goggles pushed up onto Riley's forehead. "Oh, shit. Bonesaw?"

"I was," Riley said firmly. "Very much past tense. Turns out Jack Slash was a low-level Master. Ninety-nine percent of Bonesaw was his creation. The one percent was my powers. Take away the Mastery, and you get me." She shrugged, and offered a half-smile. "There's nothing and nobody waiting for me back on Bet, so I opted to stay and help out around the place. It's been fun."

As Vicky opened her mouth to argue that nobody could become a villain just on somebody else's say-so, she recalled Mouse Protector. The personality and mannerisms had still been there, but she'd been deeply, irredeemably evil. And Riley had absolutely given Vicky the best medical attention she could've asked for. "… right. So, uh, Mouse Protector? Is she going to be okay?"

"Sure." Riley tilted her head toward the doorway into the main workroom. "Why don't we go see?"

"Okay." Vicky followed her out into the high arched room, with what Vicky still had trouble believing was a real dragon stuffed and hanging overhead, where Mouse Protector was sitting in a comfortable-looking chair and chatting with Snek and his Master.

Up until now, Vicky had thought Myrddin had the 'wise old wizard' look nailed, but this guy just took it away from him. There was a level of gravitas to the Master of the Castle (the capital letters just slipped in there) that not even the members of the Triumvirate could muster, as well as a sense of deep and abiding power. As Vicky watched, Snek opened his mouth (now free of bits of Simurgh, she saw) and a multi-forked tongue passed out a softly silvery glowing orb to the hands of the Master.

"Thank you, Snek," the Master said politely. "This will also go well with my collection."

Mouse Protector seemed to be unconcerned with the comment, but Vicky looked up at the shelf where the orb was going, and at the long row of other orbs, glowing in different colours, that were already there. "Uh, excuse me. What … are those things?"

"They are the power cores to the same kind of creatures that plague your world," the Master explained, placing the orb carefully in its spot. "Each is unique, and offers new insight into how these creatures can be brought into being. Of course, if I end up with a duplicate, Snek finds them delicious."

"Yess," agreed Snek, his tongue sliding along the length of his mouth and back again, like that of a certain cartoon coyote. "Ssnek likess crunchy ssnackss."

Vicky looked again at the row of orbs. There seemed to be a lot of them. "These aren't all Endbringers … are they?" As far as she knew, only two had been killed (and eaten; that part was very important) by Snek.

"They go by different names in different worlds." The Master dusted his hands off, causing tiny sparks to fly. "Kaiju, Endbringers, Angels, the Horsemen, Great Old Ones … destroyers. City-killers. Designed to bring death and pain, and to distract me from my chosen duties. This is why I find it preferable for Snek to hunt and kill them, and return the cores to me."

"Right," Vicky said faintly. "I see." He doesn't have time for the Endbringers, so he sends Snek after them. Gotcha. I thought I was kind of important in the grand scheme of things. Haha, wow, nope.

"You get used to it," Mouse Protector said kindly, rising from her chair. Her sword, Vicky saw, was back in its scabbard. "And thanks, by the way, for keeping my attention until Snek could get to me. That was a thoroughly unpleasant experience, until the Master could get my head straightened out again." She put her hand on Vicky's shoulder. "If you ever get tired of New Wave, look me up; I could do with a competent sidekick."

"Uh … thanks?" This was not how Vicky had imagined her night would go. A random thought flitted across her mind. "Would I have to do cheese puns?"

Mouse Protector grinned. "Only if you have an Abondance of Emmental Feta-tude. We wouldn't want to create a Munster now, Spenwood we?"

As Riley laughed out loud, Vicky facepalmed.

Yeah, I walked right into that one.



End of Part Twenty

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Twenty-One: Encounters

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Panacea

Amy glared at her sister. Life just wasn't fair sometimes. "You got to meet Snek? You met his Master? How come all the cool stuff happens to you and not to me?"

"Well, it wasn't all cool," Vicky protested. "The fight against Mouse Protector was scary as fuck. I wasn't even coming close to winning. The most I was doing was keeping her attention until Snek dealt with the Simurgh."

"That's something we're going to have to address," Carol interjected. "There's no way we would've cleared you to go into a Simurgh battle with the rest of New Wave, much less on your own. You were irresponsible and reckless—"

"I had no choice!" shouted Vicky. "Mouse Protector was a Simurgh bomb! Snek said so! And I wasn't fighting the Simurgh, I was fighting Mouse Protector! And Snek's Master wasn't letting the Simurgh affect me anyway!"

"Wait, what?" Aunt Sarah's eyebrows rose. "Snek's Master is so powerful he could stop the Simurgh from messing with your mind?"

"That's what Snek said." Vicky shrugged. "I could feel something trying to get in, but it couldn't. So, unless my force field works against that sort of thing … yeah, he's that powerful."

Carol traded a glance with Aunt Sarah. "Then why hasn't he come here and fixed … well, everything?" She gestured at the wall of the house and, by inference, everything outside it. "God knows we need the help."

"I'm not totally sure, but I got the impression that he's real busy, and our problems aren't all that bad in the grand scheme of things." Vicky grimaced, like she was trying to put something into words that she wasn't too sure about. "He said something about how there are always monsters, and how he lets Snek deal with them to free up his time to do other things."

"Monsters?" asked Mark. "He's got Endbringers wherever he is?"

Vicky snorted. "If he did, he doesn't anymore. Snek loves chowing down on them. As I said before, the impression I got was that there are a lot of worlds and … well, he called the monsters Horsemen and Great Old Ones and kaiju and stuff like that. And he deals with bigger problems than that."

This time, the glance that Carol and Aunt Sarah shared was a good deal more concerned. "Great … Old … Ones?" That was Sarah. "Are we talking Lovecraft here?"

"Mayybe?" Vicky didn't look like she quite knew what their aunt was referring to, which was fair; neither did Amy. "But he seemed to think Snek was totally capable of dealing with them on his own."

"Right." Carol's voice had slipped into the tone that Amy knew from long experience concealed deep concern. "Just … let us know if you encounter him again. And … it's probably not the best idea to go off to some other world without letting us know first. Sarah?"

"I have to agree with Carol about that," Aunt Sarah noted. "If Snek decided to leave you there and go off on his own, you might never get back."

"What?" Vicky shook her head. "Seriously? His Master was there. You know what the guy keeps as bookcase ornaments? Endbringer cores! He collects them as a hobby, and lets Snek eat any duplicates he gets! If he couldn't get me back to Earth Bet in time for school, I would be totally surprised."

"Endbringer … cores." Uncle Neil weighed in on the conversation. "By this you mean, something that's in the centre of Endbringers." He sounded as though he wasn't sure if he wanted to believe what he was saying.

"Well, they didn't sit me down and give me a full tutorial on it, but that's the gist of what he was saying, yeah." Vicky waved her hands as though trying to convey with gestures what she couldn't express with words. "He had a stuffed dragon hanging from the ceiling, and Riley told me it was real. Also, little tiny ones that are about the size of cats, and just as playful and cute. She said they're empathetic, and if they encounter people who think like they do, they sometimes just go off with them."

"Wait. Dragons." Carol's tone had not lost the concerned edge. "Are we talking about the fantasy creatures with fire breath and an appetite for virgins, here? Not just a knockoff, like Lung?"

Vicky rolled her eyes. "Well, we didn't go into the 'virgins' bit, but Riley said, sure, some of them breathe fire. But she also said they're friendly, Mom! Well, not all of them. The mid-sized ones are feral, but the big ones are real nice, and she says they regularly take her flying."

"So does everyone in this other world have a regular name, like Riley?" asked Aunt Sarah. "Not something like … I don't know, like out of Lord of the Rings?"

"I dunno, because I didn't meet anyone other than Snek's Master and Riley, and Snek himself." Vicky was visibly getting impatient with the interrogation. "Sorry I didn't take more notes when I got in a fight and went to a fantasy world!"

"Well, I don't like the idea of these dragons." Carol's tone was definitive. "They sound dangerous. Did you at least get this Master's name? Or did he just like being called 'master'?"

Vicky huffed a sigh. "His full title, Riley told me, is 'The Master of the Castle'. That's capitalised, by the way. If he has a name other than that, nobody mentioned it. Snek calls him 'Master', or rather, 'Masster'. Riley calls him 'boss'. I called him 'sir'. And just by the way, he knew a ton about me and Earth Bet."

"Wait," Uncle Neil interrupted before Carol could say any more. "These monster cores. Just how many did he actually have?"

"Um … let me think." Vicky frowned and looked up at the ceiling. "I didn't do an actual count, but … from what I can recall, maybe a couple of dozen? And that's not counting the ones he's given to Snek to eat in the meantime. I remember thinking they were pretty."

Mark shook his head with a fond smile. "Vicky girl, only you would call something as insanely dangerous as the core of an Endbringer 'pretty'."

"Well, they were," Vicky protested. "Some of them even glowed just a little bit."

Everyone else cringed slightly, apparently due to the idea of being near something like that while it was glowing. Amy was pretty sure she wouldn't be getting close enough to an Endbringer core to even register the glow. A whole different continent sounded perfect to her.

"We're getting off-track here." Carol folded her arms. "Everything seems to have turned out well this time, but we have no guarantee that it will again. Any fantasy world you care to name will have dangers that the locals know about and automatically avoid, or have simply accepted as their due. Dangers that we just don't know about. So, I'm putting my foot down. Victoria, if you encounter Snek again, be friendly of course, but don't go anywhere with him."

"Okay, fine." Vicky pulled off one of the best eye-rolls Amy had ever seen, and she considered herself well-versed in the art. "I'll totally not trust the big friendly talking python who's eaten two Endbringers as well as several murderous supervillains, and saved countless lives, and who took me to where Mouse Protector was going to kill people. He's clearly hiding something up the sleeves he can't even wear."

Carol's brows drew down and her expression became stormy. "Victoria. Regina. Dallon."

Uh oh, thought Amy. Carol just pulled out the big guns. She never uses Vicky's full name like that.

Evidently Vicky had registered that as well, because a lot of her attitude basically just fell away. "Uh … yes, Mom?"

From the twitching of Carol's eyebrow, she looked like she wanted to scream at Vicky, but managed to control herself. "You're good at what you do, but you're still a teenager, and there are a lot of things you have yet to learn from life. If you trust someone you've only just met, it makes it all the easier for them to turn around and stab you straight in the back."

Amy knew Vicky well enough to know that she wanted to argue, but she personally had no desire to see Vicky end up embroiled in a screaming match which she would absolutely lose anyway, and which would leave Carol in a foul mood for the next day or so. With that in mind, she caught Vicky's eye and shook her head fractionally. For a long moment, it seemed her sister was going to ignore the silent advice, but then Vicky let out a long breath and subsided.

"Okay, fine," she said in a vague approximation of surrender. "I'll make sure not to go off to Snek's world or any other one without making certain I've got a way to get back. Okay?'

It seemed Carol wasn't totally satisfied, but Aunt Sarah put a hand on her arm. "That's for the best, dear. We're only thinking of your safety."

We're superheroes, Amy carefully didn't say out loud. Safety isn't in the job description.

<><>​

Vicky

"You should've been there, Ames." Vicky leaned back in her computer chair and kicked her legs back and forth idly. "Not for the fight, I mean. For the other bit. It was amazeballs."

"Pun intended?" Amy asked dryly, sitting cross-legged on Vicky's bed with her back against the wall.

"What? Oh—haha, no, well, maybe." Vicky snorted at her own accidental wit, and crossed her eyes. "It wasn't just the Endbringer cores. It was everything. I mean, it was definitely a castle—I got to look out a window, and it was built into the side of a mountain and everything—but there was more than just that. I mentioned the stuffed dragon, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did." Amy quirked a grin with one corner of her mouth. "I'm thinking maybe you could've left that bit out. Just saying."

"Mom's totally overreacting." Vicky flicked her hand dismissively. "I never got to meet them, but from the way Riley described them, they love meeting new people. And if the little ones, the hearth-dragons, are any indication, she wasn't exaggerating."

"Little tiny dragons …" Amy leaned back against the wall. "Not gonna lie, that sounds kind of cool. But if you'd actually brought one home, she would've had a massive fit. You do know this, right?"

"I know," Vicky sighed. "And she probably would've got the PRT to poke and prod and test it to within an inch of its life, to make sure it wasn't carrying magical dragon cooties or something equally fucking stupid. And when it bit someone—because it would totally have bitten someone—she'd be all 'see, I told you it was dangerous'."

"Oh, so you've met her," Amy deadpanned. She sat forward again, dropping her legs off the bed. "So, Mouse Protector got you in the leg when you were fighting her, didn't she?"

Jesus—how did she—Vicky did her best to bring her reactions under control. "I'm not sure what you mean." Even before the words were all the way out of her mouth, she could tell from Amy's cynical expression that the prevarication was going exactly nowhere fast.

"Really? You're gonna go there?" Amy rolled her eyes. "I know you, probably better than anyone. And I know exactly what someone trying to hide a limp looks like. Your left leg hurts just a little bit, and I caught you once or twice skimming your foot just above the ground and using your flight so you don't have to rest your weight on it."

"Well, shit." Vicky was busted and she knew it. One question remained, however. "Why didn't you tell Mom and Dad?"

Amy snorted. "Same reason you didn't. Because if I had, you'd still be going through the wringer, and you'd probably be grounded for a month after they finished yelling at you. Now you owe me." She gave Vicky a beaming, angelic smile.

"Yeah. I do." Vicky was no stranger to sisterly debts. "Desserts?" Amy had a liking for choc mint ice cream.

"Maybe. I'll think about it." Amy gestured at Vicky's leg. "Let me see."

"Okay." Vicky bent over and rolled up her jeans leg—she hadn't anticipated this, so it was fortunate she wasn't wearing skinny jeans—so the location of the cut was exposed. Then she bent her leg and rested her foot on the bed next to Amy. Flight, she decided, was damn useful for keeping her balance in situations like this. "There you go."

"Huh." Amy leaned over her calf muscle, a finger tracing the line of the cut. "Are you sure this is the right one?"

"What do you mean?" Vicky twisted around until she could glimpse the area. "Uh, yeah. Mouse Protector slashed me right across the leg. I was bleeding pretty badly until Snek got me back to his world. Then Riley fixed me right up."

"She certainly did." Amy prodded at the cut, causing a minor twinge but nothing more. "I would've sworn this was a month old, not a day. For all intents and purposes, it's basically healed, and I'm willing to bet that it won't even scar. What did she do, cast a magic spell over it?"

"Actually, no. And stop that, it tickles." Vicky put her foot back on the floor and unrolled her jeans leg again. "She said she doesn't do magic. She's just really, really good at medical stuff. But the thread she stitched me up with was magical. Anti-infection, stuff like that."

"Also, invisible." Amy leaned back against the wall again. "There were no stitches, or even the marks where stitches went in. But like I said, it looked like an old wound, well-healed."

"Okay, then." Vicky raised her eyebrows. "She did say something about them being magically dissolving. But that's still impressive."

Amy snorted. "So, are you going to be catching a ride with Snek back to see this Riley every time you get a boo-boo from now on?"

Vicky wasn't sure where that had come from, but she had a ready answer anyway. "Actually, I talked to her about you. She knew who you are. In fact, she's from Earth Bet as well."

"… which explains why she doesn't have a weird fantasy name, right?" Amy mimed a facepalm. "So why didn't you just say so when everyone was asking questions?"

"Because that bit's her business and nobody else's." Vicky had made the decision on the fly, though she figured she could trust Amy with it. "They would've pushed for more information about her, and Mom might've even decided that it was our sworn duty to 'rescue' her from the Master's world, and that's where everything would've gone tits-up in a major way."

As Vicky sat back down in the computer chair, Amy twisted around and rolled onto her stomach, supporting her chin on her hands as her feet kicked Vicky's pillow: left, right, left, right. "I'm guessing she chose to be there? And was in a bad situation here on Bet?"

"Yes to the second, no to the first. But once she got there, and got her head straightened out, she absolutely chose to stay. As far as I could tell, she's totally enjoying life as a magician's apprentice, only without the stupid walking broomsticks."

"Damn it, I was going to make that joke too," groused Amy, but without any heat. "Is she a cape? Someone we might know?"

Vicky held a finger up. "That's … something I'm going to keep on the down-low until you meet her and she gets the choice to fill you in. But I can definitely tell you that she's not a bad person. Nobody who works for the Master of the Castle, and who gets along so well with Snek, could get away with being one for more than, say, five minutes."

"Okay, that's definitely got me curious." Amy rolled her head sideways on her hands. "Why do I get the impression that you're leading up to something?"

"Because I am." Vicky took a deep breath. "She said that you'd probably enjoy visiting. There's a town at the foot of the mountain, probably several, and you could set up as a magical healer. Nobody would be the slightest bit surprised at someone who can touch a person and fix all their health problems. But at the same time, the workload would be far less than here."

Amy blinked. "Okay, that's absolutely not where I thought you were going. Not that I had much of an idea where you were going, but that wasn't it." She paused. "Really? I could visit?"

"Only if you wanted to go. And only if you never, ever told Mom or any of the others about going." Vicky tried to put all the gravity she could into the statement. "If you think the grilling I got just before for going there accidentally was bad, imagine how she'd go to town on you for wanting to go."

"Um. Yeah." Amy sat up again and shook her head. "I think I'd rather sand my nails with an angle-grinder."

"You and me both." Vicky leaned back in the chair and used her flight to prop her feet up on nothing, one leg crossed over the other. "So, you interested?"

Amy didn't say anything for a long moment, but then she nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think I might be."

<><>​

Canary

"You know, I thought I'd been getting fit walking around town," Paige observed, trying not to use up too much of her breath at once. "Turns out I was wrong."

Elmora nodded. "It does kind of feel that way, doesn't it?" She raised a hand and gestured at the landscape around them. "This has got to be the furthest I've walked in my life in one direction, but I'm pretty sure we'll pick it up."

"How far have we come, anyway?" Paige looked around as well. There was the road in front and behind, and forest to either side. For the first few hours after they left town, they'd been passing farmlands, but that had given way to uncultivated lands. Trees grew around and about, the ones by the road offering useful shade, but clumping here and there for no apparent reason. The road actually deviated slightly up ahead, to go around one such clump.

"Sorry, I left my odometer in my other boots." Elmora grinned to show it was a joke. "But I figure we're making three, four miles an hour, and we've been on the road for about five hours."

Paige did the math in her head; it was harder than if she'd been rested and comfortable, but she puzzled it out eventually. "So, about fifteen to twenty miles."

"Yup." Elmora didn't add anything to that.

Twenty miles, to Paige, could be covered in twenty minutes on the highway. It struck her as ridiculous that the arduous pace they'd been travelling at had taken them half the day to get that far. "We're not going to reach the next town by sunset, are we?"

"That's why we've got camping gear," Elmora reminded her. "In time, once we've built up a stake, we can buy a horse and cart or something, and do this the easy way. Until then, we learn the hard way why they call it 'shanks' pony'."

Paige wrinkled her nose. "And I'm pretty sure none of my spells cover getting a hot bath. Or any kind of bath, really."

"Nope." Elmora seemed to be more amused than upset by the situation. "We're going to kind of reek by the time we hit the next town, that's for sure. But then you'll have the chance to wow them all over again with your singing."

"Well, some things apparently never change." Paige had memories of overly long trips in a cramped minibus, and more or less falling out the far end smelling of everyone's sweat. "I could've hoped that one would, anyway."

When Elmora didn't answer, she looked around at her travelling companion, to see that she'd stopped and unslung her bow. "Get behind me," Elmora said quietly, in a tone utterly different to the light banter from before. "Be ready to run."

The sight of Elmora nocking an arrow got Paige's attention just as much as her words did; without even thinking, she did as she was told. At the same time, she pulled the small dagger she'd purchased as an everyday tool and eating utensil. How much good it would do, she had no idea, but she was long past the point of letting shit happen to her, without giving back as good as she got.

"Too little, too late." To Paige's shock, a man dressed in rough leathers stepped out of the clump of trees, drawing a sword as he did so. The leathers and cloak he wore over them were mottled in greens and browns, making for extremely effective camouflage. "We'll be having your coin, ladies, and any other valuables upon your persons."

"'We'?" asked Elmora, her tone one of disdain. "I see only one of you, and at this range I can pick which eye I'll be putting the arrow through." She drew back the bowstring by way of illustration. "Walk away, and nobody gets hurt."

"Nice bow." The bandit didn't seem fazed. "We've got bows, too." As he spoke, three more men showed themselves. Two had bows like Elmora's, only shorter. Arrows were nocked, and strings were taut. The third had a crossbow, and it was similarly prepared. "Now, you can no doubt get me. But you won't get them, and they will get you and your girlfriend too, if she doesn't drop that cute little blade right now."

"Shit," muttered Elmora. "This is bad. This is fucking bad. They swore to me that there were no bandits in the area."

"So, not running?" Paige didn't think it was going to happen. Elmora's headshake just confirmed it. Drawing a deep breath, she raised her voice. "Uh, I'm a bard. Just starting out. I really don't have much in the way of coin, and without my lute I won't be able to get any more."

"Hm." The bandit leader seemed to be thinking about that. "Well, you're not in town now, and the Bardic College isn't here to bail your ass out of trouble—"

"And that's as good an opening as I'll ever get." A tall woman with a commanding presence strolled into sight from around the clump of trees. She was wearing well-made leather armour and had a pair of goggles pushed up on her head. An iridescent green hearth-dragon—Paige had seen them around, both in the Master's castle and in the town—rode on her shoulder, looking around alertly. The heavy crossbow in her hands tracked the bandit leader closely. "You'd be Harraster Baker. Your men are surrounded, and you've each got a price on your heads that we intend to collect. Don't do anything stupid, and you'll live to face the magistrate."

"Who the hell do you think—" began the bandit leader, then he looked around as one of his archers fell face-forward, the arrow releasing to stick into the road surface in front of him. The other two, carefully lowering their weapons, stepped out onto the road; the reason for this was that they were being prodded that way with swords.

"One more time." The woman brought her crossbow up to sight on the bandit leader. "Dead or alive; it's all the same to me. Alive is only a little more convenient. Don't make it inconvenient."

"Well, dragonshit." The bandit dropped his sword and raised his hands. "Where in the four hells did you come from? Were the ladies bait in a trap?"

She grinned as her comrades—they had to be, because they were holding weapons and the bandits were not—chivvied the rest of the brigands from their hiding place in the clump of trees. "Not as such. We've been trailing you for a few days now. The descriptions seemed to fit, but we wanted to catch you in the act. And now we have. You'll pay for our next few months' worth of expenses."

"Well, damn," Elmora observed, releasing the tension on her bowstring and returning the arrow to her quiver. "That was very damn slick indeed."

"Why, thank you." As a skinny guy—wearing a top hat, of all things—began securing the bandit leader, the woman strolled over to them. "Hi, I'm Noelle Meinhardt, of the Travellers. You're okay? Nobody hurt?"

"Not other than a bad fright, and a realisation that maybe the life of a wandering bard isn't the best idea if you're on your own, or even with a friend." Paige took a deep breath. "But thank you for the rescue."

"Heh, you're welcome." Noelle grinned broadly; the green hearth-dragon chirped, and she reached up to scratch under its chin. "So, a bard, huh? And you'd be a bowyer and fletcher, from your pouches?"

"That's right." Elmora slung her bow. "So, they're new to the area, huh? I was thinking I'd have to smack someone around for giving me bad intel."

"That's right." Noelle peered at Paige and frowned. "Wait a minute. Do I know you?"

"That depends," answered Paige cautiously. "I used to be known as Bad Canary."

"Holy shit, it is you!" Noelle slapped her thigh. "I used to listen to all your tracks. You helped me through some very dark times."

"The fuck? You're from Earth Bet too?" asked Elmora. "How many more of us are there around here?"

"No idea, but we were in a bad way before the Master helped us out. Simurgh bomb and proto-case fifty-three, right here."

Poking her thumb into her own chest, Elmora grinned. "Bet you a gold piece I can top that."

"Really." Noelle raised her eyebrows. "This I gotta hear."

Elmora gave a rough approximation of a courtly bow. "Butcher Fourteen, at your service. Retired, of course."

"Well, fuck." Noelle snorted, reaching into a pouch and flicking Elmora a gold coin. "I don't suppose you happened to retain any of those moves you had, back in the day?"

"Some." Elmora snatched the coin out of the air and smirked. "Pleasure doing business."

"Riiight. So, you were saying something about maybe needing more protection on the road. We could always do with two more, especially a bard and a Butcher."

Elmora sighed. "I've been trying to get out from under that shadow. Just call me Elmora."

"Sure. Also, we'd all love to hear the latest from home, in a 'never going back if you paid us' kind of way."

"So, wait." Paige was still getting her head around the idea. "You're all from Earth Bet?"

"Every single one of us." The bandits were now all secure, so Noelle removed the arrow from her crossbow, decocked it, then slung it across her back. "So, what do you say?"

Paige shared a glance with Elmora, who shrugged. "Why not?"

"That's what I was thinking." Paige offered her hand to Noelle. "If you'll have us, we're in."

"Excellent." Noelle's handshake was firm but not overly so. "Welcome to the Travellers."



End of Part Twenty-One

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Twenty-Two: Unexpected Interactions

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


Somewhere in North Africa

Snek is glad that Master has used magic to protect hat and keep it on head. Is nice hat, and Snek would feel bad if he lost it. Wind is very strong, but not as strong as Snek, and fire is warm. Lots of sand flying everywhere.

He sees man at middle of fire-sand storm, walking. Is moving toward town with people in it. There is hos-pit-al with many sick people, cannot be moved. Walking storm man will hurt many people if he keeps going.

Snek slithers up to walking storm man. "Sshould not hurt people," he says. "Iss bad thing to do."

Walking storm man looks at Snek and opens mouth to speak but eyes and mouth are glowing like Master's hands do sometimes. Walking storm man roars instead of saying words.

Snek understands many words, but does not understand roar.

Snek does not know if walking storm man can understand him. Walking storm man is not angry or bad man, just causing lots of damage. Snek decides to take walking storm man to Master. Master can fix anything. If walking storm man has wispy thing inside like other pa-ra-hu-mans, Master can add to collection.

Snek likes helping Master add to collections.

Snek rears up and opens mouth. Walking storm man does not realise until too late. Snek puts walking storm man into no-eat place in throat.

Fire-sand storm stops. Town is safe. Snek is happy. He has helped people. Helping people means he is a good boy.

Snek is about to open wriggle-hole to Master's castle when he hears gold princess girl calling to him. Gold princess girl helped save Mouse when turkey bird lady made Mouse into not-Mouse. Snek likes gold princess girl.

Snek decides to take detour. He opens wriggle-hole to where gold princess girl is, and goes through.

<><>​

Panacea

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Initially, Amy had thought it was, but now she was starting to have second thoughts.

Dressed in jeans and a jacket, she was currently being conveyed bridal style through the Brockton Bay evening sky by her sister. The sun had only recently slipped below the western hills; so recently that when they'd first gotten up to this altitude, they'd been briefly bathed in its dying rays again. Now they were flying northeast toward an uncertain destination.

"Sure it is." Vicky grinned at her. "Mom would fly off the handle if Snek came to the house. She probably wouldn't try to hurt him—or even be able to—but it would be a kind of embarrassing introduction to the family all the same."

Amy could totally see that. "Yeah, it would. So, what's your excuse going to be when she finds out we didn't actually duck out for burgers?"

Vicky sniffed loftily. "You're assuming she'll find out."

"I always find it safer to assume that. That way, all my surprises are pleasant ones."

"Wow, aren't we getting cynical in our old age?"

Amy rolled her eyes. "You're two months older than me."

"Potayto, potahto. Here should be okay." Vicky angled downward toward a medium-high office building. It wasn't anywhere near as tall as the Medhall building (hadn't that been a surprise to one and all) or the PRT headquarters, but it had a nice flat area that they landed in the middle of.

"Okay," said Amy, after Vicky let her down on her feet. "Is this Snek's home away from home?"

"Nope. I just wanted a nice big area for him to turn up in." Vicky drew a deep breath and raised her voice a little. "Hey, Snek? It's me, Vicky. You know, gold princess girl. I helped you save Mouse Protector. I've got someone who wants to meet you."

"Gold Princess Girl?" Amy snorted with amusement. "You told him to call you that?" It sounded like the kind of name they'd give Vicky in a dubbed unauthorised foreign-language cartoon about New Wave.

"No," Vicky said primly.

She opened her mouth to keep talking, but then a circular hole opened in the night air, with daylight pouring through from the other side, and suddenly Snek was right there. The hole closed just after his tail cleared the opening, but Amy's breath was taken away by how fast he came through. For a sixty-foot overgrown python, he was remarkably fast on his … well belly scales, she guessed.

"Eep." Seeing Snek on TV was one thing, but having him appear in the scaly flesh right in front of her was quite another. Also, he was huge. If he lay flat, he'd still come up to her waist. And he wasn't laying flat.

"Hi, Snek," Vicky said cheerfully, as though she wasn't addressing a gigantic snake. "This is my sister Amy. She's the superhero Panacea. I thought you might like to meet her."

Snek's pre-existing smile seemed to expand at Vicky's greeting. "Hello, gold princcesss girl. Hello, frizzy-hair girl. Iss good to meet new friendss." He turned his head sideways and peered at her with an immense eye, the vertical pupil fringed with gold. "Riley ssayss ssuper heroess help people. Iss good to be a ssuper hero."

Frizzy-hair girl? Amy was momentarily taken aback. He could've called me Amy or even Panacea, but frizzy-hair girl? "Oh, uh, it's good to meet you too, Snek. I like your hat." She'd known he wore a hat, but the news never explained where he'd gotten it from.

Snek positively beamed. "Thank you, frizzy-hair girl. Iss nicce hat. Wass given by nicce hat lady."

"It is a very nice hat." Vicky grinned. "So, I was thinking. Amy's a healer. Do you think Riley and your Master would like to meet her?"

Tilting his head to one side, Snek seemed to think about that. "Ssnek wass taking walking sstorm man to Masster to fix. Gold princcesss girl and frizzy-hair girl can come along, meet Masster and Riley."

"Uh … 'walking storm man'?" Amy frowned. "Who's that?"

For a creature that had exactly nothing to offer in the shoulder department, Snek managed an extremely passable shrug. "Walking sstorm man iss walking sstorm man. Walkss, makess sstorm. Fire, ssmoke, ssand. Ssnek iss taking to Masster. Masster can fix anything."

"Wait. Wait just a second." Vicky held up a finger. "Did you just capture Ash Beast?"

"Ssnek doess not know Assh Beasst. Hass walking storm man in not-eat placce. Iss taking to Masster. Gold princcesss girl and frizzy-hair girl want to come?"

"Not-eat place?" There were too many new concepts being thrown at Amy. She had less and less idea of what was going on with each passing moment. "Do I even want to know?"

"Mouse Protector explained it to me, kind of." Vicky was already astride Snek's neck. "It's his way of transporting things and people who don't want to come along. C'mon, you'll miss the bus."

Amy Dallon had never been about leaping in feet first. Even her powers required her to diagnose the problem before taking action. Everyone else in New Wave had powers that gave them a good chance of ignoring the consequences of just going ahead and doing it.

By rights, she knew, she should refuse the call to adventure. I'm not really a superhero. I'm a healer. I fix up people who get hurt doing stupid stuff.

And yet …

She looked at Vicky and Snek, the latter of whom was giving her an encouraging smile. How was it that something so big and nominally scary could actually be encouraging?

When am I going to get this chance again?

Oh, fuck it. Let's see where this goes.

She darted forward and scrambled up onto Snek's neck. Settling down behind Vicky, she put her arms around Vicky's waist, her brain whirling anew with the brief revelation she'd gotten into Snek's physiology when she put her hands on him for the first time. Holy shit, what is this thing?

While her power could normally decipher even the most complicated biological systems in mere moments, looking at Snek gave her the feeling of a high-school physics student trying to decipher the inner workings of an operating nuclear reactor from first principles. There was a lot going on, and she could understand perhaps one percent of it.

"Gold princcesss girl, frizzy-hair girl, hold on."

Amy was already holding on. Now she held on more.

Another portal opened in front of them, and Snek went from zero to holy shit! in less than a second as they whipped through it.

<><>​

Riley

The boss-man was on top of a ladder, fitting a new crystal into his latest apparatus—Riley wasn't totally certain what it was going to do, but she was sure it would be interesting—when Snek's habitual donk-donk-donk sounded at the door to the laboratory. "Come in, Snek," the Master of the Castle called out. "And kindly bring your guests with you."

The door opened, and Snek slithered in. Riley looked with interest to see who he'd brought along this time. Mouse Protector was always fun to talk to, and Glory Girl had been nice too. Maybe it was both of them; that would be cool.

"Oh, hey," she said with a wave. She was pleased to see she'd been half right, as Glory Girl (this time not in costume) was seated at the front. Behind her was someone Riley couldn't see too well. "Who'd you bring along?"

"Ssnek hass brought gold princcesss girl, frizzy-hair girl, and walking sstorm man," Snek explained in his own inimitable way. "Frizzy-hair girl iss new friend."

"And we will be decanting the walking storm in just a few moments," the boss-man said as he descended the ladder. "His infection is more pervasive than most. Greetings once more, Victoria Dallon. Welcome to my domain, Amelia Dallon. I am the Master of the Castle, and this is my apprentice, Riley. You have already met Snek. Riley, do we have foodstuffs for our guests?"

"Actually, we do." Riley caught Glory Girl's eye. "Some of those rolls you liked the last time you were here. Be right back, boss."

She hustled out of the room to where she knew a tray of the rolls in question would be cooling. It was in fact halfway across the Castle in the kitchens, but Riley had been taught the trick of slapping the doorframe at just the right spot, so she could step out of a different doorway to where she needed to be. It was a total cheat, but compared against the rest of what the Master of the Castle did on a daily basis, it didn't even move the needle on the 'weird-stuff' meter.

She returned in a minute or so, with the rolls in question along with a pitcher of sweet fruit juice and four goblets. By this time, the boss-man had Snek's mouth open and the 'walking storm man', who appeared to be a humanoid form surrounded by a howling firestorm, was hovering before him. The storm, of course, was limited to the confines of a standard containment bubble. Nobody wanted all the delicate apparatuses around the room to be damaged or destroyed, and the boss-man would get downright irritated if his collection of monster cores had to be placed back in order.

"Ah, Riley, just in time." The boss-man gestured at one of the work-benches. "A heavy-duty jar, and the extraction tongs, if you will?"

"Sure thing, boss. Hey, hold this a second? Thanks." Riley handed the tray over to Glory Girl, then went to the bench and collected both the jar and the silver filigree tongs. Returning to where the Master of the Castle stood, she handed him the tongs, then muttered the unlocking incantation and took the lid off the heavy jar. The weight of it wasn't just from the lead in the crystal, she knew; there were enchantments woven into it that made it nigh-impervious to the most eldritch of energies.

She had to remind herself that Glory Girl had only been here once before, and had barely seen the Master at work at all, and Panacea—she'd recognised the name at once, of course—had never so much as met him before. While the way he removed the thing from the young man's head with the tongs was still interesting and impressive, it wasn't the same source of wonder that it had been the first few times she'd seen it accomplished. To Panacea, on the other hand, he may as well have been repelling an Outer Threat or reassembling part of the Castle after Snek's wriggle-hole 'incident' (she hadn't been there for that, but she'd heard the story).

She held the jar steady for the boss-man until the wispy, smoky flame had been dropped within, then dropped the lid back into place. The enchantment took hold once more, making it impossible to be removed unless an authorised living being visualised or spoke the correct unlocking phrase.

"Thank you, Riley." The boss-man dispelled the bubble, summoned simple clothing around the now-harmless man, and moved him to the preparation table; all with a simple gesture. "And thank you also, Snek."

Snek smiled. "Ssnek hass done well?"

"Yes, you've done very well." The boss-man smiled and lightly booped the giant snake's nose. "You're a good boy." Taking the jar from Riley, he took it over to the shelves where more of the same stood in rows. "I presume you have questions, Panacea?"

"In total honesty, I wouldn't know where to begin." Panacea shook her head, looking more than a little dazed. "Who are you, and what is this place?"

"As I said, I am the Master of the Castle." The boss-man spread his hands. "This is my Castle, and this is my world. However, as I also said not so long ago to another visitor from your Earth, I do not confine myself to just one world. I go where I see the need to go, and do what I see the need to do."

"He really does," Riley piped up. "There's things out there that make Endbringers look like high school bullies trying to take your lunch money. So, he lets Snek take care of the small fry."

"Monssterss are tassty," Snek interjected. "Esspeccially the sspiccy oness."

Panacea seemed to still be having trouble coming to terms with it all. Riley got the impression that she'd agreed to come along on this excursion without fully understanding what she was getting herself into. "So, uh, how about I take you to meet the dragons? I mean, if you don't need me right now, boss?"

"Certainly." The boss-man gestured at the alert ball; Riley could see the faintest red tinge creeping through the enchanted crystal. "But I shall be needing you in an hour. You as well, Snek, so go and rest."

"Yess, Masster." The giant snake rubbed his head against the side of Riley's leg as he turned his massive body around. She reciprocated with a skritch behind the head, just where he liked it.

"So," she said as he opened the door and slithered out. "Have either of you ever actually wanted to ride a dragon?"

<><>​

Panacea

Dragons are real. Dragons are actually real. Vicky had told Amy this, but even she hadn't seen them herself, except for the tiny ones. Now, standing on the rocky ledge—more of a slice out of the side of the mountain—Amy was coming to terms with the truth of the matter. Dragons were real, and they were huge.

When offered a ride on the back of the one called Finesse, she had declined. Not because she bought into Carol's ranting on the subject, but because unless it was a member of her family, she preferred to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground, thank you very much. However, Vicky had lifted off the ground, intriguing the dragons greatly. When she invited the dragons to go flying with her, they'd immediately taken her up on it.

So now she was watching as Vicky played tag with creatures sporting wingspans that would easily dwarf that of a 747, as well as others barely the length of her arm, while Riley rode the back of the dragon called Cirrus and laughed every time her mount pulled a barrel roll or a loop. Haha, yeah, nope. Solid, hard pass.

And then there was the softest flutter of wings, and a gentle weight landed on her shoulder. Already suspecting what it was—she'd seen the hearth-dragons playing with Riley before they all took off for their aerial sport—she looked around. And came face to muzzle with the most concerned expression she'd ever seen on the face of anything that wasn't human.

The tiny dragon, sporting scales that were a glossy sunset red fading through purplish blue to true black, opened its mouth and gave an inquiring chirp. Amy could almost hear it asking, are you okay?

"Well, hi there," she said quietly, not wanting to startle it. "Aren't you a pretty one?"

It chirped agreeably and preened, much as the larger dragons had done when Vicky was heaping extravagant compliments on them. She got the distinct impression that it had understood what she meant, if not the exact words. One wing flexed up and out, as if to show off the delicate scaled patterns to her.

Reaching up, she gently rubbed its head, moving slowly and carefully. She didn't think it would attack her, but she'd dealt with enough aftermaths of supposedly friendly dogs going berserk because people ignored the signals. In this case, the excess caution seemed unwarranted; it arched its back and pressed its head into her palm. The chirp this time was more definite: yes, please, more of that.

She grinned, partly because of the enjoyment it was clearly displaying, and partly because she could actually read its biology. Unlike Snek, hearth-dragons could be mostly understood, even though some parts of their metabolism seemed to work on something other than standard physics. It was probably magic, she decided; there seemed to be a lot of that going around at the moment.

Finding a chunk of rock that looked like it had been smoothed down for the purpose, she sat down and then let it step onto her hand so she could hold it in her lap. It seemed to like that, especially when she used her new knowledge of its physiology to find the spots it enjoyed being scratched the most. Stretching its spine into odd configurations, it settled into her arms, almost purring as she gave it all the attention it seemed to want.

The more it chirped at her and she answered, the more comfortable she became with it. They weren't quite conversing, but she could usually figure out its meaning, and reply in kind. Oddly enough, the dark mood that had come over her, the irrational guilt for not enjoying the trip to Snek's world nearly as much as Vicky evidently was, had somehow drained away. Sitting on the shaped rock, leaning back against another one, she soaked up the sunlight and petted the hearth-dragon on her lap.

She didn't move when Vicky came flying back in to land on the rock ledge, because she was enjoying the location and the company too much to want to jump up right away. However, when Riley's dragon mount alighted, along with the other dragons, she stood up reluctantly and went to meet them, still cradling her newfound friend. The other hearth-dragons swooped and swirled around her, chirping and calling to the one in her arms, to which it replied with another series of definitive chirps and squawks that Amy easily deciphered as, she's mine, I saw her first, go away. Perhaps it wasn't that snarky, but it sounded that way to her, and she smirked as she came up to Riley and Vicky.

||Oh-ho,|| Riley's dragon mount said, directly into their heads (which was apparently the way they spoke). ||Someone's made a new friend.||

||Aww,|| his mate (or so Amy assumed) cooed. ||Aren't they just too cute?||

Somehow, Amy was just fine with being thought of as 'cute' by actual real dragons. After all, if elephants thought humans were cute (she'd read that once somewhere) then why not dragons, too? It was certainly preferable to being thought of as 'tasty'.

"They definitely are," Riley agreed. "She really likes you."

"Yeah." Amy rubbed her cheek along the side of the hearth-dragon's muzzle. It chirped happily, and reciprocated the gesture. "And I like her too. Everything else around here is amazing and magical and wondrous, but I was feeling out of place, no offense intended, until she came and landed on my shoulder. Now, everything's just fine."

"Yeah, well, she's kinda been out of place here too, ever since she was hatched." Riley sighed. "The boss says we don't often get Twilight colouration; it's a pretty rare strain. The others treat her okay, they don't bully her or anything, but they tend to have fun in their own groups, and she doesn't have a group to have fun with. We've been putting out feelers for Twilights of her age in other communities or Dragonmarks, but no luck so far."

"Well, that sucks." Amy ran her hand over the hearth-dragon's head, and it chirped in agreement. "I'll definitely be coming back to visit you, every chance I get."

||Visit?|| Cirrus' mental tone was no longer amused or indulgent. ||That won't do. That won't do at all.||

"What?" Amy looked up, startled. "Why can't I come visit her?"

||Because you are bonded with her now, child,|| Finesse explained. ||If you separate from her, she will fall into despair, as will you. Stay away too long in your own world and she may die of a broken heart.||

Cirrus put the finisher on the explanation. ||Wherever you go, she must go with you. At least until the bond has matured enough for both of you to withstand the pangs of separation.||

"What?" Horrified, Amy stared at the hearth-dragon in her arms. "I don't want her to die! Why didn't anyone tell me that just petting them could cause this to happen?"

"Because it normally doesn't happen this fast," Riley said. "Usually, it takes a week or so. We only get this sort of thing happening when the people and the hearth-dragons are horribly lonely. As the boss would put it, they fill the void in each other's hearts."

"Well, crap." Vicky facepalmed. "How are we going to explain this to Mom?"

"I dunno," Amy declared, tightening her grip on her new best friend, "but there's no way in hell anyone's taking her away from me."

The hearth-dragon chirped defiantly in agreement.



End of Part Twenty-Two

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Twenty-Three: Twilight in Brockton Bay

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


Panacea

Twilight (as Amy was already starting to think of her) chirped agreeably as the Master of the Castle stroked the top of her head. The cute little hearth-dragon had figured out how to nestle comfortably in the crook of Amy's arm, holding on with her forearms without digging her claws in, and all without Amy having to ask her to. The warmth of her presence—figurative and literal, given that dragons were warm-blooded despite their reptilian characteristics—was something that Amy was rapidly becoming used to.

"Well, then," the Master said. "There is assuredly a bond between the two of you. This is a good thing. I am pleased for you both."

"What, that's it?" asked Vicky, when he didn't say any more. "You're okay with Ames taking one of your hearth-dragons back to our world? Just like that?"

"Indeed I am, Victoria Dallon." He smiled faintly. "Hearth-dragons are quite resilient and capable in their own right. In addition, she will have two competent and determined protectors in Amelia and yourself, yes?"

"Well, yeah, I guess." Vicky glanced at Twilight, then back at the Master. Since her initial shock at the bonding had passed, she seemed to have taken to the tiny dragon. "I half-expected you to say they had to stay here or something."

The Master's tone was amused. "Hardly." His attention shifted to Amy. "Though you are welcome to abide here for as long as you wish, if that is your desire. We have spare rooms aplenty in the Castle, or you might find lodgings in the village below. I know young Riley would enjoy the company."

"It's true," Riley agreed. "I totally would."

Amy paused, suddenly very tempted to say yes. The shitstorm that she knew would come down on her head—well, their heads, but she knew that somehow it would end up being her fault, no matter how hard Vicky tried to take the blame—was not something she was looking forward to. But if she stayed and Vicky went, her sister would then have to face Hurricane Carol all by herself, and Amy wouldn't have wished that on her worst enemy, much less Vicky.

"I, uh, thanks for the invitation, and I might just take you up on it later." She took a deep breath. "But we need to get home before we're grounded until graduation instead of just for the next month or so."

"Aww." Vicky glanced wistfully out the window, at where a couple of hearth-dragons were chasing butterflies. "Maybe we could stay a little longer. See if one of them wants to come back with me, just for a bit."

The Master glanced up at where something Amy had thought was a classic crystal ball had begun to pulse a deep unsettling crimson. "I can convey you back now, or in several hours, for all my attention will shortly be required elsewhere. My apologies, but you must make your decision now. Time grows short."

While Amy was trying to visualise what sort of problem would take up all of the Master's attention, he tapped his staff against the floor just once. A shimmering doorway opened in space; on the other side, Amy saw the roof of the Fugly Bob's on Lord Street. For all its mundanity, the lit-up fast-food sign looked really weird against the backdrop of the Master's laboratory.

"Come on, Vicky. Let's go." Amy grabbed her sister's arm and gave the Master a smile and a nod. "Thanks. For everything. See you later, Riley. Say goodbye to Snek for us."

"I will," Riley promised. "Come back soon, okay?"

Vicky rolled her eyes. "Knowing Mom, no promises. But this was great." Together with Amy, she stepped through the portal.

It closed soundlessly behind them as though it had never been. The whole thing could've been a dream, except that Twilight was still right there, sitting up in Amy's arms and looking around alertly at the new surroundings. "It's alright," Amy crooned, stroking the smooth scales that ran down the back of her neck. "I'm here, and I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

"That's 'we're not going to let anyone hurt you'." Vicky gave the top of the little dragon's head a skritch, eliciting a chirp in response, then she looked around. "Wait, did he send us here so we could actually pick up burgers before we went home?"

Amy had to chuckle. "Well, I didn't tell him that was the excuse you made. But are you surprised? Because I'm totally not surprised."

Twilight chose this moment to scramble up onto Amy's shoulder and take up a perch there. She flared her wings then furled them again, draping her tail around the back of Amy's neck for balance. Sniffing pointedly at the tantalising aromas, she let out an encouraging chirp that Amy interpreted as well, what are we waiting for?

"It sounds like she's hungry." Vicky frowned. "Is it safe for her to eat that stuff? Do we even know what they eat?"

"Everything we do, plus a little bit more," Amy assured her. "Their digestive systems are impressive. They make use of everything. Anyway, she'll let me know if she needs something we don't have, won't you, Twilight? Yes, you will, because you're smart."

As Twilight chirped in agreement and rubbed her head up alongside Amy's, Vicky raised an eyebrow. "Twilight, huh? It definitely fits her. So, how did you want to do this? You wait up here while I go down and get the burgers?"

Just then, both their phones went off repeatedly, beeping and pinging to indicate missed calls and incoming text messages. Twilight's head came up and she looked around for the source of the sound, but she seemed to take her cue from Amy, and didn't startle. "Oh, boy," muttered Amy as she pulled out her phone. "Class S shitstorm, incoming."

"But we weren't gone that long," Vicky protested, retrieving her own phone. Then she looked at the screen and her shoulders slumped. "Ah, crap."

"What?" All Amy could see on hers was a bunch of messages along the theme of where are you? interspersed with attempts to call from basically every member of her extended family. "What happened?"

Vicky grimaced. "Dad texted asking me to get him curly fries. When I didn't answer, he tried to call me."

"Me too." Amy scanned through the messages. Some of the later ones were mass-texts to the rest of the family, asking if anyone had seen them. "Shit, all of New Wave's been called in on this. I need to text them back, tell them we're okay."

"Way ahead of you." Vicky hit the call icon and held the phone to her ear. "God, I hope they haven't called the PRT yet. We'd never hear the—ah, Dad, it's me. I'm fine, me and Ames are both fine. We're all good, nobody's attacked or kidnapped us, so please calm Mom down before she calls in the Protectorate to look for us."

"The Triumvirate," Amy murmured, only half joking. Carol Dallon could really go all-out if she thought there was a threat to New Wave.

Twilight nuzzled the side of her head comfortingly and wrapped one wing around the back of her head to reassure her. Her chirp was very much, I'm here for you.

Amy couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I know." Reaching up, she scratched her diminutive companion under the jawline.

"We're at Fugly's right now," Vicky said. "We're about to go in and order. We kind of took a bit of a detour, it was all my idea. Tell Mom that. It wasn't Amy's idea at all. But look—Dad, we're just going to get the burgers now. Dad—oh, hi, Mom. Mom, calm down, we're fine. Nobody got to us. We're all good. We're better than good. We're great."

In the quiet of the night, Amy could hear Carol Dallon's voice blasting out of the speaker as Vicky held the phone a couple of inches away from her ear. While the words weren't quite distinct enough to be made out, the tone was definitely 'you'd better be okay, because I'm going to kill you'.

Amy tensed, hoping Vicky wouldn't be told to pass the phone to her. The last thing she wanted was to deal with this sort of confrontation, especially over the phone. How she'd ended up with Twilight was definitely better explained in person.

Her phone pinged with another text message. It was a mass-mail, and it said succinctly, V&A OK. At FBs on LS. Sent from Carol's phone, she suspected Mark had written it up, considering that Vicky was still trying to get a word in edgewise with her mother on her phone.

A moment later, another mass-text popped up. OWTN. It had come from her aunt Sarah's phone; in the family semi-code, it meant 'on way there now'. Amy looked up at the night sky, knowing that if her aunt was on the way, she'd likely have Eric and Crystal with her for backup, and probably Uncle Neil as well. Part of her couldn't wait to show off her new friend to them, but another part quailed at the thought. What if they don't like her?

As though reading her mind, Twilight leaned forward on her shoulder and turned her head so that Amy could look right into her bright, intelligent eyes. She let out a crooning chirp and tilted her head as though to say, of course they'll like me. Look how cute I am.

"Well, you're definitely all that." Amy found herself smiling again. Twilight had the knack of pulling her out of her darker moods. Even with the short time they'd spent together, she understood Amy, better than Vicky did, better than anyone she'd ever known.

Riley had said that a hearth-dragon bond only happened this fast when both sides were horribly lonely. She hadn't thought of herself as being lonely—after all, she had Vicky with her most of the time—but the feeling of contentment she got from just having Twilight there was making her think twice about that. Geez, how lonely was I? Reaching up, she ran her hand over the top of Twilight's head, feeling the dragon push up into her palm. Too damn lonely, that's what.

"Yes, Mom. We're okay. Here, I'll give the phone to Ames. She can tell you too." Vicky held the cell out to her.

Oh, crap. Taking a deep breath and giving Vicky a dirty look, Amy accepted it. She felt Twilight's tail curl around the back of her neck reassuringly, and she took strength from that. "Hi, it's me. What Vicky said. We're totally okay."

"Amelia." Carol's voice changed subtly. "I just need to know that everything's fine."

This was something Amy could actually deal with. The 'everything's fine' phrase was a call-and-response code. If she confirmed that specific phrase, it would mean that everything was not fine. However, she could definitely use other words. "Everything is totally copacetic. We are actually alright here. I promise."

The hiss of an indrawn breath told Amy that she hadn't been wrong about the incoming storm. As it turned out, from the frost in Carol's voice, it was a hailstorm. "Amelia Claire Dallon. I don't know how you talked Victoria into going off-grid like that, but you will not move until I've got eyes on you; do you understand?" In the background, Amy could hear the roar of the car engine.

Despite the unfairness of the accusation, there was only one survivable response. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now put your sister back on."

A wave of relief swept over Amy and she grinned broadly as she held the phone out toward Vicky. "It's for you."

Vicky blanched, then spotted the three fast-moving glowing spheres a moment before Amy did. "Whoops, you hold the phone for a bit." Ignoring Amy's indignant look, she lifted into the air, waving both arms. "Hey! We're over here!"

Amy's thumb 'accidentally' hit the speaker icon, and Carol's voice surged from the phone. "Victoria Regina Dallon! You take that phone right now!"

"Sorry, can't hear you. It's real windy up here!" Vicky floated a little higher.

Aunt Sarah came in fast, dropping the force field so Uncle Neil could get his feet under him, then flying to where Vicky was and wrapping her in a fierce embrace. "Oh, thank God you're alright!"

At the same time, Uncle Neil took two long strides and picked up Amy altogether, lifting her three feet off the ground in a massive bear-hug. In the back of her mind, she felt Twilight take off and hover above her head, apparently unworried about the display of familial concern. "It's great to see you, baby girl! We were so damn worried!"

"Well, we're fine," Vicky said, being the only one of the two of them who still had breath in their lungs. Uncle Neil's hugs had always been on the enthusiastic side. "We just … took a detour."

"Are they alright?" Carol's voice crackled out of the phone Amy was still holding. "Someone tell me they're alright." In the background, Amy thought she heard someone honking their horn.

Crystal took the phone from Amy as Uncle Neil put Amy down again and stood back with his hands on her shoulders. "Yeah, they're fine, Aunt Carol. We're on the roof of the Fugly Bobs. No blood, no bruises. Dunno where they've been, but it's not in a fight."

"I keep telling you," Vicky said as Aunt Sarah finally released her, then held her close again for a moment. "We weren't in any danger."

"So, where'd you take the detour to, that didn't have cell signal?" asked Eric, then gave Vicky a quick side-hug. "Good to see you're both okay, just saying."

Crystal stopped in the middle of saying something that was probably intended to be witty, and pointed. Amy knew without looking exactly what she was pointing at. "Uh … what's that?"

"What? What's what? What's going on there?"

Holding up her hand so Twilight could land on it, Amy cleared her throat for attention. "Twilight is not a that," she said primly. "Twilight is a she. She's from Snek's world, and she's very smart. Twilight, this is my Aunt Sarah, my Uncle Neil, and my cousins Crystal and Eric. They're nice people, even if Eric is a little slow from time to time."

Perching on Amy's hand with her tail wrapped around her wrist, Twilight gave the assembled capes a friendly chirp and spread her wings to their full extent before furling them again. The Pelhams stared at her as their brains assimilated what they'd just seen and heard.

"It's a dragon," Uncle Neil said blankly. "A tiny dragon."

"She's so cute!" exclaimed Crystal. "Did she just say hi?"

"She sure did," Amy affirmed. "She likes people. All hearth-dragons do."

"Did you just say 'half-dragon'?" That was Eric. "Isn't that a lot less than half?"

"Hearth-dragon, dear cuz," Vicky said firmly, striding over to him and grabbing him by the ear. "Th. Th. Hearth. It means fireplace."

"Dragon? What are you all talking about? What dragon? I thought I said no dragons!"

"Excuse me, Crystal. May I have that?" Aunt Sarah accepted Vicky's phone from her daughter's hand, and took it off speaker. "Hi, Carol. The girls are fine. I say again, the girls are fine. You can slow down to the speed limit now. We're not going anywhere. See you when you get here."

"Sarah! Don't you dare hang—" The call ended as Aunt Sarah tapped the icon.

"Okay," said Uncle Neil, peering at Twilight. "A tiny dragon, I get. But she's not that small, and I didn't see her at all until Crystal pointed her out. How does that work?"

Amy wrenched her thoughts away from the incoming doom that was Carol Dallon. "Uh, hearth-dragons come in different strains. She's of the Twilight strain. They can vanish into the shadows if they want to. It's their thing."

"Oh." Aunt Sarah leaned in close and holding out her hand, as though to be sniffed. Twilight let out a soft chirp, then rubbed the side of her face against Sarah's fingers. "I must say, she's quite pretty. And you say she's from Snek's world? So that's where you were?"

"Get off." Eric shoved Vicky, and she let go of his ear and took a step back. "I know what a hearth is. I was just testing you. No need to get violent."

Amy nodded, as Twilight preened at the praise. "Ah, yeah. That's where we were. Vicky was flying with the big dragons, and Twilight here just cuddled up to me, and here we are." She brought Twilight back to her chest, and the little dragon snuggled into her the same way as before. Crystal cooed again and came over to get a closer look, stepping up next to her mother.

"There's a bit more to it than that." Vicky grinned; Amy knew she enjoyed being the person with the information. "Hearth-dragons are empathetic, and they'll bond with people who, I guess, match with them. By the time I landed again, they were inseparable. I mean, look at them."

"Wait." Uncle Neil's head came up and he raised his eyebrows in concern. "Go back a bit. Flying with the 'big' dragons? How big?" Almost subconsciously, he held his hands apart as far as they would go, which was quite a bit farther than Amy was tall.

"Um …" Vicky shared a glance with Amy. "Seven-four-seven size? Bigger? I'm thinking bigger."

Amy nodded, thinking back to the massive ledge, weathering the gusts of wind kicked up as the tremendous wings propelled the dragons into the sky. "Bigger. Definitely bigger."

"Hmm." Aunt Sarah seemed to be treading a line between wanting to hear all about their adventures and wanting to tell them to never do it again. "I seem to recall you promising your mother that you wouldn't go anywhere with Snek, if you met up with him again."

"Actually, no." Vicky held up a finger, sounding sure of herself. "I said I wouldn't go if I didn't have a way to get back. But I had a way. Snek's Master had told Snek to get some sleep, so he opened a way back. After, you know, he depowered Ash Beast, and I got to fly around with dragons for a bit. We were fine."

"Hello, Twilight," Crystal said softly, reaching out toward the hearth-dragon. "Does she breathe fire or anything?"

"Not fire, no." Amy smiled as she watched Twilight regally accept scratches from Crystal, as her rightful and proper due. "Just the shadows thing. You didn't see her at all?" Now she wished she'd been watching Twilight when she vanished. The bond had allowed her to know where Twilight was, but that wasn't the same thing at all.

"Nope. It was like she wasn't there, then she was. It was very cool. You're very cool, aren't you? Yes, you are. Yes, you are." Crystal ran her hand down Twilight's back, the little dragon arching her spine into the caress. Amy could tell she was thoroughly enjoying the attention.

Uncle Neil blinked, apparently having trouble processing the size of Twilight's larger cousins. "That's big. That's really big. Weren't you worried? I mean, you've got your force field, but something that big could be dangerous if it really wanted to."

"Nope." Vicky waved the idea away airily, as only she could. "They're smart as humans, or maybe smarter. And they talk telepathically. Plus, they see us as adorably cute, like little kittens who want to play with them."

Aunt Sarah was still doing her best to be the concerned aunt, all the while watching her daughter play with an adorably tiny dragon. "You didn't tell us about any of that before. Just that they existed."

Vicky huffed and rolled her eyes. "That's because I hadn't met them before. I took Ames to meet the Master of the Castle and Riley, because she does medical stuff too, and Riley introduced us to the dragons. One's called Finesse and her mate's Cirrus, and they thought me being able to fly was the greatest thing in the world, because that meant they could both go flying with me."

"So, did you go flying with the dragons too, Amy?" asked Eric, looking at his younger cousin curiously. "I mean, on them. Whatever." He seemed to be restraining himself from the urge to pet Twilight as well, but some people (Amy decided) were just immune to cute.

"Uh-uh. Nope." Amy shook her head firmly to emphasise the negation. "I like keeping my feet on the ground. But it looked amazing. I took photos. Crystal, would you like to hold Twilight for a second?"

"Would I?" Crystal held out her arms, and Twilight stepped across into them, using her wings and tail to balance. She rubbed her head up under Crystal's chin and chirped happily.

"She's very friendly, isn't she?" asked Aunt Sarah, a smile stealing across her face as she watched the interaction. "She really seems to know what we're saying, doesn't she?"

"Oh, she totally does." Amy took her phone out and flicked through the latest photos she'd taken. The individual close-up shots of Cirrus and Finesse were magnificent, but the pictures of them together in the air were utterly gorgeous. Vicky, flying between them, was tiny in comparison. Amy had also gotten photos of the other hearth-dragons, mainly playing tag with each other, their variously coloured scales catching the sunlight.

"Aren't you just the cutest? Yes, you are." Crystal had Twilight on her back and was rubbing her tummy, the little dragon's head hanging down with an expression of bliss and her back legs kicking gently. "Your scales are so pretty."

"Okay, wow, those photos are amazing. Now I'm officially jealous." Eric nodded toward the way Crystal was doting over Twilight. "Also, I'm not sure if you're ever getting your baby dragon back."

Twilight turned her head to look at Eric and gave him a mildly indignant squawk, then went back to letting Crystal pamper her.

"What? What'd I say?" Eric evidently knew he'd said something wrong, but not what.

Amy smirked. "She's not a baby, she's fully grown. Plus, she'll come back when she wants to. We might be bonded, but she's her own person."

"So, what is this 'bonded' thing?" Aunt Sarah looked at Amy, then at Twilight. "That's twice you've mentioned it now."

"It's an emotional bond. We make each other feel better. Like the emotional support animals you see around, but this one's a lot deeper." Amy shrugged. "It's kind of a thing they do, like the bigger ones do telepathy."

"And how long do they live?" Uncle Neil sounded like he was trying to be pragmatic and soften the blow at the same time. "Because little critters like that don't live forever, you know."

"Won't be an issue." Vicky's tone was back in 'I know what I'm talking about' mode. "Riley told me that hearth-dragons normally live twenty years or so in the wild, but if they bond to someone, they live as long as that person does."

Eric raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's handy. Beats the heck out of getting a dog. How does that even work?"

Amy shrugged. She'd been told about this, but not a huge amount of detail. "Short answer? Magic. Long answer? They were bred to be pets thousands of years ago on some other world, then the Master of the Castle rescued them, along with the other dragons. Now they can choose to bond, or not, as they want."

"So, what does it take to bond with one?" Crystal looked beseechingly at Amy. "Because she's so gorgeous."

"Well, apparently, I was a special case." Amy got the idea that Twilight wanted to come back to her, so she turned slightly to offer her shoulder; Twilight leaped, glided on spread wings for a second, and landed neatly. Securing her perch on Amy's shoulder, the hearth-dragon leaned against the side of her head, holding her wing up while Amy scratched her ribs under it. "Twilight was really lonely because there weren't any others of her strain around, and it seems I was pretty lonely myself. So, we just clicked. Usually, it takes a week or more. Visiting, playing with them, getting to know them. They've all got their own personalities."

"They totally do," Vicky confirmed with a chuckle and a roll of her eyes. "Some of them can be real smartasses."

"Mom, can I?" Crystal turned puppy-dog eyes on her mother. "Can I go and meet the other hearth-dragons? Please?"

Vicky cleared her throat. "Ah, before we make a decision on that one, it's not going to happen right now. Just as we were leaving, the Master of the Castle was gearing up for something big. He said he'd be busy for a while."

"That's right." Amy reached up and ran her hand along the length of Twilight's tail as it draped around the back of her neck. "There were flashing red lights and everything."

"Ah." Uncle Neil scratched the back of his head. "Well, I was going to suggest that we all go if Crystal's going to visit. Get the lay of the land, so to speak. And I've always wanted to see a real castle." He glanced at Aunt Sarah. "That's if you think it's a good idea, hon."

Vicky grinned. "Oh, it's real, alright."

"Mom?" prompted Crystal hopefully.

"Hmm." Aunt Sarah put on a frown, but Amy could see the twinkle in her eye. "I suppose we could see what tomorrow brings. After all, Snek's done us all a huge favour and made Brockton Bay a no-go zone for violent crime. I guess we can afford to take a little time off as a team once in a while."

"Because Crystal wants a dragon all of her own?" Eric didn't quite make his tone snide, but the very lack of mockery conveyed it all the same.

"Nobody's twisting your arm to go, you know." Amy held up her hand and Twilight stepped onto it, allowing herself to be cradled once more. The hearth-dragon snuggled into Amy's arms, letting out a chirp of contentment. "You can stay right here in boring old Brockton Bay, and play Marco Polo with the only three muggers that are left in town."

"Two." Grinning, Vicky took up the repartee. "I got one last night."

Eric rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "Okay, fine. I'll go. Someone's got to keep the rest of you out of trouble."

"Talking about going …" Vicky grimaced. "Mom's not going to be far away now, so if you don't want to hear the yelling, you might want to leave soon."

"I'm staying." Aunt Sarah's tone was definitive as she put a supportive hand on Vicky's shoulder. "Now that I know a bit more about the situation, I'm thinking I'll hang around to back you up. Carol can be a little … reactionary at times."

Water's wet, sky is blue. She's gonna yell at me no matter what. Amy didn't say a word, but Twilight raised her head and rubbed it against her cheek anyway, crooning softly. She felt the worst of the knot in her gut melting away, and she held Twilight a little closer.

"And we should actually grab some burgers," Vicky decided. "Plus, extra curly fries for Dad. If Mom's that mad at us, I'm not really sure I trust her in the kitchen right now."

"So, what kind of burger did you want, Amy?" asked Crystal.

Amy smiled down at Twilight. "Something that's only medium greasy, but with extra bacon. Because I'm pretty sure I know someone who really likes bacon."

Proving she knew exactly what that word meant, Twilight chirped loudly in agreement.

Right about then, a familiar car roared into the parking lot. It took the first parking space it came to, pulling up with a squeal of brakes that was audible even from on top of the roof. The doors opened, and Carol and Mark got out. Even from this far away, Amy could see the anger and concern in every line of Carol's body.

"Oh, boy," muttered Vicky, all her bravado melting away. "I hope your will's up to date, sis, because we're gonna die."

Amy held Twilight a little tighter; the hearth-dragon chirped encouragingly, and rubbed her head across Amy's throat in a soothing motion. We got this.

Amy could only hope she was right.



End of Part Twenty-Three

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Twenty-Four: Disarming the Bomb

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]


Panacea

"Um, I'll just go and get us the food—" began Vicky, the utter coward.

"No, you will not." Aunt Sarah was usually easy-going, but her tone was ironclad this time. "I will bring your parents up here. You will stay here with Amy to face the music."

"Yes, ma'am," muttered Vicky, her shoulders slumping a little.

Aunt Sarah nodded. "Eric, Crystal, get enough burgers and curly fries for everyone. And make sure you get extra bacon for, uh, Twilight."

"Yes, mom," Eric and Crystal chorused at almost the same time, looking somewhat brighter. For all that they weren't the ones in trouble, they still didn't want to be there when Hurricane Carol struck the shoreline and commenced the carnage.

"Here," said Uncle Neil, pulling out money. "Extra fries for me. Don't be too long. We're going to want to take this somewhere more private before she starts getting loud."

"Got it." Crystal grabbed the cash and lofted up over the edge of the building, with Eric following close behind. At the same time, Aunt Sarah flew down to where Carol and Mark were waiting in the parking lot. Mark looked like he wasn't quite sure what was going on, but Carol had her arms folded and one toe was tapping on the asphalt.

This is gonna suck.

<><>​

Glory Girl

Vicky took a deep breath as she watched her aunt form a field around her parents. Okay, just don't say anything stupid and let Aunt Sarah do most of the talking. Nobody had been hurt, and Ames had gotten a cute dragon out of it, and Aunt Sarah and Uncle Neil were interested in going to visit Snek's realm, so her mother wouldn't go off too badly … would she?

Behind her, she heard Twilight let out a chirp, apparently trying to reassure Amy. She sounded confident, anyway. More confident than Vicky was, right then.

The field drifted upward again, then opened to let Carol and Mark onto the roof. Carol went straight to Vicky and hugged her fiercely. "Thank God you're alive," she whispered, then put her hands on Vicky's shoulders and pushed her back out again. "You are in big trouble."

When Mark cut in to have his turn at hugging Vicky, Carol looked around with some confusion. "Where's your sister?" she asked.

"She's right—" Wrapped up in her father's hug, Vicky looked around at the shaded spot where Amy had been standing a few seconds ago. "—uh, here?"

"She was here a second ago," Uncle Neil confirmed, sounding puzzled. Turning, he looked behind himself. Despite his bulk being sufficient to conceal Amy about three times over, she wasn't there. "What the hell?"

"Wow, you really can't see me, huh?"

Vicky started violently as Amy's voice emerged from nowhere, then Amy faded into view. Twilight was still in her arms, looking very pleased with herself. It was like one of those find-the-Stranger photos, where everything looked like background detail until one tiny clue pulled the camouflaged person into the foreground.

"How did you do that?" Vicky demanded. "Did you just go invisible or something?"

"Something like—" began Amy, but was cut off by Carol.

"Explain yourself, young lady. I already told you, no dragons!" Drawing herself up, she glared at Twilight. "And what was that, just now?"

"Mom," Vicky said flatly. "Stop. There's a lot you don't know."

"Don't tell me to—"

"Carol." Aunt Sarah's tone sliced through the air like one of her lasers. "Stop. Seriously. There really is a lot you don't know, and if you keep talking like that, you're going to drive Amy away without ever knowing why."

That, at least, seemed to get through to her. Carol glared at Amy and Vicky, but she didn't speak for the next few moments. Finally, she nodded. "I'm listening."

It was better, Vicky decided, if she did most of the talking now that her mother was focusing on the two of them. "Mom, this whole thing was totally my idea. Amy didn't even want to come along until I talked her into it. So if you're going to yell at anyone, yell at me."

"So noted." Carol's nostrils flared. "That still doesn't explain why you went against my express wishes not once, but twice. I told you not to go anywhere with Snek, and I said 'no dragons'."

"No, you didn't."

Vicky looked around in surprise at Amy's voice.

"I'm sorry, but you really didn't say anything about not getting dragons." Amy looked as taken aback at her own verbal defiance as Vicky was, but she stood her ground. "And you're not taking Twilight away from me."

"Wait, wait, time out. Time out." Sarah cut into the conversation, literally throwing up a force-field wall between Amy and Carol. "Before we go any further, I do want to know how Amy just managed that. Amy, what happened? What did you do?"

Amy spent a few seconds just breathing, holding Twilight close to her while the little dragon crooned softly and ran her scaled head over the side of Amy's jaw. And from what Vicky could see, it was working; Amy was acting more confident and more self-assured than she had been for a long time. Finally, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

"Twilight's bonded with me, you know this. Well, all hearth-dragons have little tricks they can do, and when they're bonded to someone, they can share that trick with them. I was scared just now, and I wanted to disappear. Twilight let me know I could if I really wanted to … so I did." She shrugged and stroked the miniature dragon almost reflexively. "I don't know how it works, just that it does. Magic's like that, I guess."

"Magic—" scoffed Carol derisively, but she shut up when Vicky shook her head and made a scissoring cut-off gesture with both hands.

"Mom, seriously. You do not know what you're talking about. This isn't some Myrddin knock-off waving his hands and doing cape tricks. I've seen real, actual magic. I've flown with dragons the size of passenger jets. What we've seen here on Earth Bet with Snek is only the tip of the iceberg. And like I said before, if you're gonna yell at anyone, yell at me. Not at Ames."

As Carol seemed to be figuring out how to reply to that, first Crystal and then Eric popped up over the edge of the roof. "We got the food!" Eric piped up, waving a bag redolent with mouth-watering odours. It certainly got Twilight's attention, anyway.

"They moved us to the front of the line," Crystal explained, brandishing another such bag. "We didn't even have to ask."

"Good." Sarah clapped her hands. "Discussion is tabled until we get home. No snide comments, no cutting remarks, and no dipping into the food. Understood?"

Despite the theatrical groans—mainly due to the last stricture—everyone understood.

<><>​

Pelham Household, a Little Later

Manpower

Neil had already watched Crystal playing with the adorable little critter, so he had no particular qualms when Amy offered her to Mark to hold. Looking more than a little bemused, Neil's brother-in-law sat on the sofa with a miniature dragon in his lap, tentatively stroking her and feeding her the extra strips of bacon that had come with Amy's order. Twilight seemed entirely content with this arrangement, politely accepting the bacon and holding it with her forepaws as she crunched it down.

Seated beside them, Amy beamed as proudly as a mother showing off her new baby, in between taking bites of her now bacon-free burger. "See?" she said. "There's nothing to worry about. Hearth-dragons like people, and they're smart and empathetic."

"She's very cute too." Mark smiled down at Twilight and scratched her between the shoulderblades. She responded by emitting a friendly chirp and snuggling up to him, then continuing to eat the bacon from that position. "I can see why you're so taken by her. Just being near her makes me feel … better."

"Like I said." Amy took another bite from her burger, chewed and swallowed it. "Magic. They like being around people, and people like having them around."

"I wanna see if I can bond with one too," Crystal declared. "Uncle Mark, you should come along with us when we go there. Vicky, show him the photos."

"Wait, okay, stop. Time out." Carol had been good, Neil had to admit. She hadn't raised any objections to bringing Twilight back to the house, and she'd stayed quiet while the food was apportioned out, but now she had reached the end of her tether. "How can you be sure that's harmless?"

Vicky turned to look at her. "Because like Amy just said, she's smart and she likes people. And Twilight's a she, Mom, not a that. Be nice, okay?"

"I wasn't talking about the dragon. I was talking about the Master effect. And whatever this 'bonding' thing is." Carol gestured toward Mark. "Surely you can see it?"

"I can see that Dad's happier just holding her," Vicky said firmly. "And that Amy's about ten times as happy as she was before she went. Riley explained it to us. Hearth-dragons bond with people who suit them, and who need it. Amy needed it. They complete each other. Also, hearth-dragons are just plain nice to be around."

"All I see is a Master effect of dubious origin," Carol reiterated stubbornly. "You can say 'magic' all day long, but it doesn't actually mean anything. I have yet to see proof that it's harmless. What happens when she has to leave it behind and go to school?"

"Now you're just being rude." Amy put her hand on Twilight's back. "Vicky's already told you she's a she. And if I have to leave her behind to go to school, I will. I won't enjoy it and neither will she, but she'll understand."

"Exactly my point." Carol folded her arms. "This 'magic' is just a Master effect. I think the sooner you take that creature back to where … okay, fine, she belongs, the better for all concerned."

"No!" shouted Amy and Vicky at the same time, echoed by Twilight's indignant squawk. Vicky stood up, looked her mother in the eye, and repeated herself. "No. Not gonna happen."

Crystal stepped up alongside her. "What she said."

"I don't even want a dragon, but same here." Eric flanked Vicky from the other side. "Twilight's kinda neat. Also, what do you mean, you don't believe in magic? We all know about the giant talking snake who's eaten two Endbringers. Seriously, wow, Aunt Carol. What part of that makes the slightest bit of sense, if it's not magic?"

"No, no, she's right." Amy collected Twilight from Mark's lap and stood up. "I get it. Twilight doesn't belong here. I'll be taking her back to Snek's world as soon as I can."

"What?" Vicky turned to her. "No! You heard what Cirrus said! If you're separated, she'll die of a broken heart!"

Amy jerked her chin up. "I didn't say I'd be leaving her there. I said I'd be taking her there. One-way trip."

"What? No!" Carol raised her voice. "It's a totally different world! What would you do there? You've got no idea of the culture, or … well, anything!"

"Yeah, I do. Riley said the town at the foot of the mountain would have a place for a healer. I'm sure I could find somewhere to fit in just fine, among people who don't give a damn that I've got a hearth-dragon bonded to me." She smiled tightly. "Don't worry, I'll visit, if I feel like it. I won't stay too long, though. Wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable around Twilight."

"Dad!" Vicky appealed. "Uncle Neil! Aunt Sarah! Say something! Talk to Mom!"

"Yeah!" Crystal agreed. "If I get a hearth-dragon too, will I have to move to Snek's world to keep it?"

"You most certainly will not," Sarah decreed, stepping forward. "The youngsters are correct, Carol. You're being too harsh, making decisions without having all the information."

"Damn right." Neil didn't like throwing his weight around in family discussions, and he got along with Carol just fine, most times. But this had reached the point where he figured he needed to put his foot down. "I get it, they ran off to visit Snek's world after you told 'em not to. But they're teenagers. That's what teenagers do. We've all done things we regretted after the fact. No harm's come of it, so why are you being so hard on Amy about it?"

Carol glanced sharply at him, maybe wondering what he was referring to with the 'we've all done things we regretted' line. He let one of his eyebrows twitch upward. Yeah, we're not blameless either. Her mouth tightened as she got the message loud and clear.

"It's a Master effect." She wasn't shouting anymore, but her tone was still firm. "Even if all it supposedly does is make you happy, that's still a Master effect. Amy's our healer. From what I can see, she's addicted to it. How is that a good look for the team?"

"Really." Sarah raised both her eyebrows. "So, you'd rather Amy be unbonded and miserable than bonded and happy? And since when have we put the team's image ahead of the kids' happiness? Or have I misunderstood you somewhere?"

Ooh, burn. Neil watched as Carol opened her mouth, then closed it again. The trap was obvious, but if she avoided it, she couldn't say what she wanted to. This is why I never argue with Sarah.

"I'm saying …" Carol paused as she carefully felt her way through the words she wanted to use. "… that Masters can make their victims feel happy. Why wouldn't they? But the happiness is fake. It's an artificial emotion. Take away the Master, and there's no reason for the happiness. And then the victim feels even worse, after the fact."

Mark cleared his throat. "You do realise you're also describing any time two people make a connection and fall in love, right? They're happy because they're together. Take away the other person, and the happiness is gone. Is that happiness artificial, just because it needs the other person to make it happen?"

"I'm saying Masters hijack the feeling," Carol countered. "Love is real, but it can also be counterfeited. Heartbreaker is a prime example."

"Except that hearth-dragons aren't Masters." Amy had moved Twilight to her shoulder, from where she was watching the discussion with intense interest. Neil would not have been surprised to learn that the little dragon was understanding most of it. With her hands now free, Amy pulled out her phone and pulled up one of the photos that Neil had already seen, of a flock of hearth-dragons swirling around Vicky as she lifted off the ground. "There were dozens where we were. Vicky played with them, but she never bonded with any of them. Twilight came straight to me, and we bonded way faster than it normally happens."

"Also, it's a two-way street," Vicky added. "When they bond, they get just as attached to you as you are to them. And you get to share their magic trick, like we saw when Amy vanished."

"You have to admit," Neil noted. "That's not something any actual Master ever does. With them, it's all take and no give."

"Some Masters give their victims abilities," Carol countered.

"But how many depend on the other person just as much as they are depended on, and only bond with one person, and can't turn the bond off?" Sarah tilted her head. "Come off it, Carol. Twilight's not a Master, and you know it."

"And since when has 'being cute and cuddly' been a Master effect, anyway?" Crystal chimed in.

Carol gritted her teeth and looked at Mark. "How do you feel now that Amy's taken her pet back?"

"She's not a pet!" This time, all four teenagers said it at once; Twilight's echoing squawk managed to sound quite rude.

"She really isn't," Sarah agreed, giving Carol a disapproving stare. "Everything I've seen tells me she's an intelligent, caring person in her own right. Who just happens to be a cute, cuddly miniature dragon."

Carol wasn't backing down. "My point stands. Mark, how do you feel?"

"Um … okay, actually." Mark shrugged. "I enjoyed holding her, and I could tell she liked me, but I'm not particularly depressed now that Amy's got her back. Not more than usual, anyway."

"Same here," Crystal added. "I was playing with her before you showed up at Fugly's, and it was really nice, but I'm not feeling bad about it now."

"You still want one for yourself, though," Eric reminded her.

"Well, duh." She rolled her eyes at him. "Dragon. Come on. What part of this don't you understand?"

"Anyway," Sarah said, in her best 'shut up, the boss is talking' voice, "it's been decided that at least some of us are going to visit Snek's world when we get the chance. Carol, Mark, you're welcome to come along. I'm personally intrigued by the photos that Amy and Vicky took, and I want to see it for real."

"Just remember; it's not Disneyland, and the Master of the Castle is usually pretty busy." Vicky gave the rest of the team, not including Amy, a serious look. "They were gearing up to deal with a significant problem when he sent us home. So be polite and respectful, and keep in mind that this is a guy who considers Endbringers to be too low-end for him to bother having to deal with."

Neil shook his head. "I'm still having trouble dealing with that aspect. You said he collects their cores as a hobby? What do you even say to that? 'Hey, nice murder-monster collection. Got any rares?'"

Amy blinked. "Jeez, I didn't even think to look at those things when I was there. Or be scared of them. Too many other weird things to look at, I guess. And hearth-dragons to meet." She reached up to stroke Twilight's neck, and got a crooning chirp in return.

"That actually sounds like an interesting idea," Mark declared. "I would certainly be interested in meeting more of Twilight's brothers and sisters. And seeing the big dragons, of course. Did you get pictures of those?"

"One or two, yeah." Amy called up the photos on her phone. "That one's Cirrus and that one's Finesse. They're a mated pair of this particular Dragonmark. That's what they call a place where dragons live. There's others there too, see? And this one's Vicky flying with them."

"You're really going to go?" asked Carol. "All of you?"

"Well … yes." Sarah spread her hands. "We already discussed it. Violent crime's at an all-time low, mainly thanks to Snek sneaking up behind it and chomping it." She ignored Eric's murmur of 'snekking up', and Vicky's giggle. "Brockton Bay's not going to fall apart if we take one day off to explore where he came from, and expand our horizons a little."

"You discussed it. I didn't get to have a say. Neither did Mark." Carol looked stubborn.

Mark blinked. "Well, I'm in agreement with the idea. Twilight's a positively delightful addition to our team, and I agree with Sarah that we could do with taking a day off in a different dimension."

"And if I say no, it's a bad idea?"

It was Neil's turn to roll his eyes. "Then you don't come along. Seriously, Carol. What's your problem with all this? Is it because the kids snuck off? Or because they didn't ask your permission to go to a place that's probably safer than Earth Bet, and brought back a cuddly dragon?"

She set her jaw. "Make light of it all you like. I told them not to go there, and they flagrantly disobeyed me."

Vicky shook her head. "No. You told us not to go if there was any doubt we'd be able to get back. There was never a doubt. Even when Snek was taking a nap, the Master of the Castle just opened a doorway and we stepped straight through onto the roof of Fugly's. We weren't stranded. We were having fun."

"And meeting the cutest dragon in the world," Crystal amended, stepping up alongside Amy so she could skritch Twilight behind the head. Twilight, of course, approved of this attention, and of the sentiment in general.

"Carol, you know me. I don't tell you how to parent your kids." Sarah moved to face her sister. "But you're wrong here. From what Amy says, you never said not to get a dragon, and you left a loophole a mile wide with the other thing."

"They knew what I meant!"

Everyone jumped at the outburst; Twilight flared her wings slightly, but settled down again under Crystal's soothing touch.

Sarah shook her head. "Carol, for a lawyer, you're really bad at wording things for your kids. Would any lawsuit for breach of contract be able to make a case with 'they knew what I meant'? Or is it always the letter of the law?"

Neil watched as Carol's lips compressed. This was the second time Sarah had trapped her with words, and she had to be pretty pissed off about it. "… the letter," she conceded.

"Well, then." Sarah slipped her arm around Carol's shoulders. "We're planning on visiting Snek's world. You're totally welcome to come along, if you want, or not; we won't force you. But I, for one, intend to get a photo of Neil meeting a real, honest-to-goodness dragon face to face."

"And I'm going to cuddle as many hearth-dragons as I can." Crystal grinned. "If I get to bond with one, awesome, but if I don't, it won't be the end of the world."

Sarah nodded to acknowledge her contribution, then turned her attention back to Carol. "So, what do you say?"

Carol grimaced, then let out an aggravated sigh. "I suppose so. Someone has to be the adult in the room."

"Woo!" Crystal exulted, lifting off the ground and sending sprays of low-power laser-light across the ceiling. "This is gonna be amazeballs!"

Neil grinned. Truth be told, he was kind of looking forward to it himself.



End of Part Twenty-Four

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Twenty-Five: Through the Looking Glass

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



The Next Morning

Lady Photon

"Hey!" Crystal protested. "No flying ahead! I thought you didn't even want to go!"

"I never said I didn't want to go." Eric rolled his eyes as he slowed down a little. "I just thought everyone else was jumping on the bandwagon way too fast, so you needed an adult in the room."

"Did you find one?" Crystal jibed. "Because I know you're not talking about yourself."

"Well, I sure wasn't talking about you!"

"Now, now," Sarah interceded. "No fighting, kids, or I will turn this family around."

"Listen to your mom." Neil was reclining on a force-field sofa next to Sarah inside her travelling bubble. "We'll be representing New Wave. Vicky and Amy have already given them a good impression. We don't want to turn that sour."

Like the rest of them, he was in casual clothing instead of his costume, wearing what Sarah privately called 'lumberjack chic'; rugged boots, jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, all tailored to fit his seven-foot frame. Sarah hadn't worn skirts since New Wave had unmasked, but she was equally comfortable in slacks and a matching blouse. The kids were wearing jeans and T-shirts, though Crystal was also wearing a denim jacket.

"Yes, Dad. Sorry." Eric dropped back to fly alongside the bubble. A moment later, Crystal echoed his words and moved to fly on the other side.

"Hey, it's not me you've got to say sorry to," he reminded them.

"Sorry, Mom."

"Sorry, Mom."

"That's okay." Sarah gave them both a medium Mom Look to make sure they knew they weren't totally off the hook. "But your dad is right. We all need to be on our best behaviour today. I, for one, don't want to be banned from Snek's world because someone offended his Master. Okay?"

"And that wins the prize for 'sentences I never thought I would hear spoken out loud'," Neil murmured with a smirk.

"Oh, shush, you." But Sarah's mock-severe tone was spoiled by her own grin. "It's a different world to what it was six months ago."

"It's amazing what changes one giant talking snake can bring about," he agreed. "Especially one who's not shy about eating the bad guys. Or the Endbringers."

"I'll say." She chuckled out loud. "Has anyone heard anything about Behemoth since Leviathan? Or even since the day before yesterday?" Since Snek ate the Simurgh like a cat chowing down on a particularly irritating canary, she didn't have to add.

"Not that I know of." His chuckle echoed hers. "And from the way Snek's already said he likes spicy food, there's probably a good reason for that. I'd be keeping my head down, too."

She was still laughing as they swooped down toward the Dallon house.

<><>​

Glory Girl

It turned out that Twilight liked toast almost as much as she enjoyed bacon. The cute little dragonet flew lazy circles around the kitchen while crunching on the freshly buttered treat; Vicky grinned as she made more.

"Are you trying to bribe my hearth-dragon with toast?" Amy asked as she sat at the breakfast table, eating her bacon and eggs. Her own plate of toast sat beside her.

Both of them were trying to avoid listening to the argument filtering down from upstairs, with moderate success.

"Nope, just advertising." Vicky swiped butter across another slice of toast. "If Twilight goes back to the others and tells 'em about how good we treat her, maybe more of them will be interested in bonding with us."

Amy snorted with amusement and shook her head. "I'm pretty sure it doesn't work that way."

"You don't know that." Vicky tried to pretend she was being serious and failed badly, letting out a giggle. "Or maybe I just love spoiling her."

"Well, that's a given. Everyone loves spoiling hearth-dragons, and they love it too, don't you?" Amy picked up a smallish strip of bacon from her plate and waved it temptingly, and Twilight predictably altered her flight path to land on the table. With a chirp of thanks (Vicky was picking up on the shades of meaning in her vocalisations) she accepted it and rubbed the side of her head against Amy's hand.

"Heh, yeah." Vicky tilted her head slightly. "Have you noticed how she doesn't just steal food? She waits for it to be offered first."

"They're smart like that," Amy confirmed. "They know that if they just take it, the free food will go away. But I'm pretty sure they eat mice and rats too, and they don't have to worry about asking first with them."

"So hearth-dragons are smart, cute and helpful around the home." Vicky nodded thoughtfully. "I can see how they got the name." She raised her head at a knock on the door. "Whoops, it sounds like the others are here."

"I'll get it." Amy stood up from the table and headed for the door. When she was halfway there, Twilight landed on her shoulder, still eating the bacon. Vicky smirked; those two were just so adorable together.

Predictably, it was indeed the Pelhams on the other side of the door. Although Vicky couldn't see from where she was, she heard Crystal cooing once more over Twilight, and the hearth-dragon chirping a happy greeting. They all filed inside, Crystal now holding Twilight, which also didn't surprise Vicky. Even when bonded, hearth-dragons were gregarious as hell.

"Good morning," Aunt Sarah announced when she got to the dining room. She eyed the table, which still held breakfast, and raised an eyebrow. "Off to a late start?"

Vicky sighed and lowered her voice. "Mom and Dad are arguing over something. Ames and me just came down and got our own breakfasts in the end."

"I see." Sarah took a deep breath and raised her voice. "Carol! Mark! We're here!"

By the time Carol and Mark came downstairs, Twilight was perched on Uncle Neil's shoulder, apparently enjoying the view from that altitude, while Amy was finishing her breakfast. It was immediately obvious what the argument had been about: Mark was casually dressed in trousers and a button-down shirt, but Carol was in her New Wave costume. Vicky met Amy's eyes, and they both shook their heads at the same time. Not getting involved in this.

Instead, Vicky carried her toast over to the table and sat down before offering another piece to Twilight, which was promptly accepted. The little dragon certainly loved her toast.

"Carol," Sarah began carefully. "You appear to be in costume. Are you not coming with us?"

"Yes, I'm coming." Carol's words were curt. "Someone needs to represent the team."

Sarah frowned. "You are aware, nobody in that world even knows New Wave exists, right?"

Amy raised a cautious finger. "The Master of the Castle does, and so does Riley. Nobody else, though."

"And I doubt very much that even they really care, correct?" Uncle Neil waited for Amy's nod. "Yeah, thought so. It'd be like if we threw a party for the neighbourhood kids and a bunch of them were worried about wearing their Protectorate Pals Fan Club decoder rings. We wouldn't even notice."

"Still," Carol insisted stiffly, "it's the principle of the thing. We're going to be representing Earth Bet's superheroes on a whole new world, and we need to make the best possible impression. Show them that we're dedicated to the task of keeping people safe."

"Vicky already showed them that, when she helped Snek with Mouse Protector and the Simurgh," Sarah countered. "We should be visiting as friendly neighbours, not as superheroes trying to show them that we're more heroic than they are. Besides, from what Vicky and Amy have said, the world outside the Master's castle is more medieval fantasy than modern day. They probably don't even have the concept of a costumed superhero in their culture."

"Should we be going then?" Carol frowned. "If we show off unusual abilities …"

Vicky had had enough. "Mom, seriously? If we do that, then what? They'll try to burn us as witches? Worship us as gods? They know about magic! Dragons are a thing! Hearth-dragons like Twilight are seen as good luck! Riley basically said that Ames could make a good living there as a healer, if she wanted to! We told you all this already!"

"Have you seen this for yourself, or are you relying on hearsay?" Carol shook her head. "I'm not saying this Riley is lying or deliberately misleading you, but you can't always believe everything you hear, and not everyone has your best interests at heart."

"Which is why we're all going," Sarah interjected. "I doubt it's a paradise by any stretch of the imagination, but they've never claimed it is. Plus, I always wanted to visit Narnia when I was a kid."

"And I'd be astonished if they had anything like Endbringers, or even the White Witch," Neil added. "Considering how Snek likes to eat monsters alive."

"Fine," huffed Carol. "But I'm still wearing the costume."

Sarah put her hands up. "You know what? I don't care. Were you going to eat anything before we got Snek's attention?"

"I could eat," admitted Mark.

"Bacon and eggs on the stove, and I made toast," Vicky said helpfully. "Then let's get this show on the road."

"Heck yeah!" enthused Crystal. "Let's do this thing!"

<><>​

A Little Later, On a Rooftop

Panacea

"So, how do we do this again?" asked Crystal. "It's not like we can call Snek on the cell-phone he doesn't own … or does he?"

"He doesn't need one," Vicky said, with all the confidence of someone who'd done something exactly once, but gotten it right on that one occasion. "All we have to do is ask him to help us get there."

"What, like some sort of prayer?" Carol was looking dubious again.

"Hah, no." Vicky cleared her throat and raised her voice slightly. "Hey, Snek. It's me, Gold Princess Girl. You picked me and Frizzy Hair Girl up yesterday, and we went and flew with dragons. Can you ask your Master if it's okay for me and my family to visit?"

Amy had to hand it to Vicky; she'd gotten through the whole thing with a straight face, despite Eric suffering a sudden coughing fit, and Aunt Sarah trading raised-eyebrow looks with Uncle Neil. Crystal patted Eric on the back, her own expression that of amused disbelief, and Mark looked like he was hiding a smile. Carol just seemed to be waiting for someone to explain the joke to her.

The familiar portal, about six feet in diameter, appeared before them, with a stone floor and walls beyond. Then Snek slithered into view, putting his head and about ten feet of body through the portal. His scales were scorched and marked, and the hat was missing a tiny piece out of its brim, but he seemed to be his usual cheerful self. "Hello, gold princcesss girl, frizzy hair girl, hearth-dragon Twilight!" As he spoke, he raised his head about six feet off the ground and eyed the rest of the group first with one gold-fringed eye then with the other. "Ssnek iss Ssnek."

"Hi, Snek!" Crystal stepped forward and gave him a hug, which he seemed to enjoy. "It's really good to meet you at last. I'm Crystal, and that's my little brother Eric, and my mom and dad Sarah and Neil, and that's my uncle Mark, and my aunt Carol."

Snek's smile widened. "Ssnek likess meeting new friendss. Hello, Crysstal and blue hair boy. Hello, happy blonde lady and angry blonde lady. Hello, tall Neil and sshort Mark. Iss good to meet you all. Masster hass ssaid you can vissit."

Amy put her hand over her mouth so she wouldn't giggle too loudly. Perched on her shoulder, Twilight let out a tiny rarr of amusement. She had to admit, Snek was right on target with his chosen nicknames, especially 'angry blonde lady'.

"Well, okay, then." Vicky sounded like she wanted to laugh too, but she was managing to hold it in through sheer willpower. "It's good to see you too, Snek." Reaching up, she booped him on the nose.

His smile, wide enough as it was, got bigger before he wriggled backward through the portal, leaving it clear for use. Vicky ducked through first, followed by Crystal. Amy went next, Twilight in her arms.

When they were all through (Neil having to duck his head, and Carol stepping through last) the portal vanished, leaving them standing in a familiar-looking corridor. "Thiss way," Snek advised, turning and wriggling back the way he had come.

"Uh, Snek," Amy ventured. "What happened to you? You look like you've been through a real fight." He hadn't shown this much battle damage even after the Leviathan takedown.

"Ssnek hass been fighting Faccelesss Minionss from the Outer Darknesss," Snek explained. "They attacked the Casstle."

"Faceless Minions?" Eric didn't sound thrilled, and Amy didn't blame him. The name sounded kinda ominous. "What are they?"

Snek briefly turned his head, and Amy saw him licking his non-existent lips. "Delicciouss."

Eric's eyes widened. "Kinda sorry I asked, now," he muttered.

Vicky grinned and nudged his shoulder with hers. "That's Snek, right there. Cuddly, playful, fun, and will totally eat the bad guy whole."

When Snek reached the end of the corridor, he bumped the door there three times with his nose. Amy was pretty sure he was counting under his breath.

"Enter, Snek." The voice of the Master of the Castle was audible to them all. "And please bring your guests."

"Wait, he knows we're here?" asked Crystal in a low tone.

"Assume he knows everything about everything," Vicky advised her. "And seriously, nobody do anything stupid. This guy is the realest deal you're ever gonna meet." The door opened and Snek slithered in; Amy and Vicky followed on, with the others close behind them.

Amy looked around, the Master's laboratory still as awe-inspiring as it had been yesterday. Though there were a few minor differences; she saw four more monster cores on the shelf, and tables were set up with odd things on them. The first was a creature, bipedal but decidedly nonhuman, that was in the process of being autopsied or dissected, she couldn't tell which. And the second was a huge tentacle, easily thirty feet long, laid out over several tables.

Turning away from the tentacle, with brass-bound goggles over her eyes and heavy gloves on her hands, was Riley. The Master of the Castle stood next to her, his staff standing unsupported next to him.

Riley smiled broadly and put down what looked like a brass probe. "Hey!" she said happily. "You're back! And you brought the rest of your team, cool!"

"Greetings, New Wave," the Master said politely. "You are welcome in my Castle. Amelia, Victoria, welcome back. It seems that Twilight made a wise choice."

"Uh, thank you." Amy hugged the hearth-dragon a little more tightly, then let her wriggle free and take flight. "We don't want to get in your way or anything here."

"You will not." It was a firm pronouncement. "I understand that you would like to introduce your family to the Dragonmark. They are out for their morning flight at the moment, but they will be back in a little over an hour. If you wish to visit the village below in the meantime, I can provide appropriate clothing."

"What's wrong with what we're wearing right now?" asked Carol, though her challenging tone wilted somewhat under the Master's steady gaze.

"Nothing whatsoever." Amy could have sworn she saw a twinkle in his eye. "However, I believe you would prefer to blend in. Such a costume is usually worn by street performers and acrobats, and would draw attention from people expecting a show." He nodded toward Neil and the others. "Your attire will not be seen as entirely unusual, merely that of travellers from a distant land."

Twilight had by this time flown up and joined the other hearth-dragons in the upper part of the room, and they were exchanging excited squawks and chirps. Amy could feel the little dragon's happiness at seeing her kin again, though she also seemed to be smug about having such an interesting human partner.

Crystal was also looking up, her lips slightly parted. "Whoooaaa …" Even Eric seemed spellbound.

"Yeah, I know, right?" Vicky murmured. "And it gets better. In here, they're on their best behaviour. Outside is where they really get playful."

Aunt Sarah cleared her throat. "Carol, I think we'll take the Master of the Castle up on his generous offer." She paused. "Uh, sir, will we be expected to wear big floofy dresses … I mean …"

"Not unless that is your desire." The Master of the Castle gave Riley a measured nod. "Kindly show each of our guests to a dressing chamber, if you will."

"Sure thing, boss." Riley paused and held up her heavy gloves, which Amy saw were stained with odd fluids, possibly from the tentacle she'd been examining. She muttered something under her breath and a rainbow swirl of light ran over the gloves, sparkling here and there as the stains burned away. Then she tugged the gloves off one at a time and pushed her goggles up. "Okay, let's go do this."

Twilight swooped down out of the flock and landed on Amy's outstretched arm as they headed for the doors. Taking the lead, Vicky moved up alongside Riley. "So, uh, what did you just do then? I thought you couldn't cast magic?"

"Oh, the gloves are enchanted," Riley said casually. "I just gave the command phrase for them to clean themselves. You don't want to get that stuff on your bare skin. In fact, you don't want to be too close to one of those things without the proper mystical protections in place." Reaching up, she tapped the goggles.

"Why not?" asked Sarah. "What was that tentacle off, a giant squid or something? And what was the other thing? A Case Fifty-Three?"

"Haha, nope." Riley reached up as she opened the door, and slapped the door-frame. "Hit the frame here when you come through." She stepped through the doorway … and vanished.

"Um." Vicky glanced at Amy, then slapped the doorframe and stepped through. Just as Riley had, she disappeared.

"What … what's going on here?" demanded Carol. "Where did she go?"

Amy took a deep breath, and Twilight chirped encouragingly. She slapped the same spot on the doorframe as Vicky had, and stepped through the doorway … into a long corridor that hadn't been there a second ago. There was no sensation of movement, no disorientation. Just a feeling that she'd blinked and missed something. Vicky and Riley were standing just a few steps away, Vicky looking at her expectantly.

"Huh," she said, moving forward to get out of the way, then looking back at the perfectly normal doorway that she'd just stepped out of. "That's a really good trick."

"Saves time getting around, for sure," agreed Riley.

Sarah stepped out of the doorway. There was no flickering, no blurring; one instant she wasn't there, the next she was. She blinked and looked around. "That's the smoothest teleport I've ever been through."

Amy had never been teleported before, except via Snek's portals, but she had to agree; it was very smooth.

Carol appeared next, a glowing blade in her hand. When she saw them waiting patiently for her, some of the tension left her shoulders. "Oh," she said.

"Mom, seriously?" Vicky shook her head. "This is the Master's Castle. It's basically the safest place around. Nobody's going to attack us here."

"You don't know that." But the blade shrank and then vanished altogether.

One by one, the others came through, looking around with wonder. Neil shook his head. "How many sets of stairs did we just skip?"

"A few." Riley smirked. "So, as I was saying, that was the very end-tip of a tentacle from a Tyrant of the Outer Darkness. They try to push into ordinary three-dimensional spacetime occasionally, but the boss has set things up so the easiest place to come through is right above the Castle. This time he got a sample, which means the next time they won't even get this close. But physics is so different in the Outer Darkness that you can literally go insane if you look too closely or actually touch them without protection."

That statement left an extremely thoughtful silence in its wake, until Vicky decided it would probably be a good idea to change the subject. Anything would be better than dwelling on the fact that they were sharing a castle with the remains of Things Man Was Not Meant to Know.

"Is it just me," she ventured, "or did the windows look different? And the stuffed dragon …?"

"Oh, all that came down when the tentacle punched in through the roof," Riley confirmed. "But the boss fixed it after he killed the Tyrants. They were fifty years planning this incursion, and he just took out the ringleaders. It'll be a lot longer before they come back again."

"I counted four extra cores," Amy said cautiously. "Was that how many there were?"

"Five, actually." Riley shrugged. "But one was a duplicate, so he gave it to Snek to eat." She looked around at the team, then gestured along the corridor. "Okay, everyone's here. Pick a room. Clothes will be in the wardrobe. Come on out when you're done."

Aunt Sarah opened the closest door and went inside. One by one, Amy's teammates selected a room, but she lingered for a moment. "The thing on the table. What was that?"

"The Faceless Minion?" Riley waited for Amy's tentative nod. "Yeah, the Tyrants generate those by the thousand. Snek had a good time nomming down on them, but the boss wanted a sample from them as well, so he had Snek let one get past. They've got an organ that kind of acts like their brain and heart and liver all at once, so I performed some non-elective field surgery on it. Now we're taking the rest of it apart to see how it works. The boss is all over the magic stuff, but I can provide insights into anatomy and biology that he finds useful." She grinned at Amy. "So yeah, that's my life now. It's hella fun."

Amy's head was spinning with the ramifications of what Riley was saying, but she couldn't even begin to start delving into the details. "It, uh, certainly sounds interesting. But where did you learn to do surgery? You can't be more than twelve or thirteen."

Riley raised a finger. "That's a 'later' question. Right now, I'd say you need to go get dressed if you don't want to be holding everyone else up."

As full of questions as she might be, Amy could take a hint. "Okay, thanks."

<><>​

Glory Girl

"Okay, I give up." Crystal, wearing a Robin-Hood-esque outfit in green and gold, shook her head as she stared at her father. "Where did you find that?"

Uncle Neil shrugged as he looked down at the fur-trimmed vest and trousers with the heavy boots. The short-handled double-bladed axe slung across his back merely served to complete the image. "They were in the wardrobe? I'm just impressed they had anything in my size."

Vicky, in leather armour with a buckler (she'd considered the chainmail bikini but decided in the end not to give her mother an aneurysm), shook her head and grinned. "You look like you're getting ready to make Conan look like a wimp."

Sarah, who had picked a set of hard-wearing leathers with goggles similar to the ones Riley had been wearing, gave her husband an approving up-and-down. "He certainly does, doesn't he?"

"Mom!" Crystal protested. "Ew!"

"Dad should wear that going up against the bad guys," Eric quipped, straightening the chainmail vest he was wearing. "They'd surrender straight away."

"And would that be such a bad thing?" Steering away from the flashier clothing Vicky had seen in her own wardrobe, Amy had chosen a set of robes that were not dissimilar to her Panacea costume. However, these were in Twilight's colours and came with a vicious-looking dagger on the belt.

"I can't see it being a problem." Mark stepped out of his room, looking downright dashing in something a nobleman might wear, complete with rapier at his waist. "I think we could all do with the bad guys just giving up without a fight."

"Wow, Dad," Vicky said, raising an eyebrow. "Way to rock the Middle Ages."

"Wait," Amy said, looking around. "Where's Carol?"

The last door opened, and Vicky's mother emerged. To Vicky's quiet amusement, she'd managed to colour-match with Mark almost perfectly, while still choosing a practical dress rather than a 'floofy' gown as described by Aunt Sarah. "Nobody laugh," she muttered. "I'm only doing this because you talked me into it."

"Why would we laugh, Aunt Carol?" Crystal gestured at the group now assembled in the corridor. "Look at us. We rock!"

"Heck yeah, you do." Riley emerged from the same doorway they'd teleported in by. "Nice choices. They look good on you."

"I know I'm probably going to regret asking this," Neil said. "But how the hell do those wardrobes work? I just kept on swiping left, and it kept on bringing out new outfits, all in my size. Do you regularly have seven-foot guys staying here?"

Riley grinned. "You might be surprised. But no, those wardrobes are set up to generate clothing according to the needs and tastes of the people staying in those rooms, based around a range of templates. Compared to what else goes on around here, it's a very minor enchantment." She dusted her hands off. "So, who's ready to come see the village?"

Vicky would always be unsure who spoke first as she and Crystal stepped forward.

"Me!"



End of Part Twenty-Five

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Twenty-Six: Visiting the Village

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Glory Girl

"Okay," Riley announced. "I'm sure you don't want to walk down all the steps to the foot of the mountain, and you probably don't want to draw attention to yourselves by flying down. So we'll go by doorway." She gestured to the door frame behind her. "Most of the doorways in the Castle are hardwired, so to speak, but a few can be redirected if you know how. And I know how."

Half-turning, she put her hand up on what appeared to be a knot in the wood grain and murmured under her breath, tapping her fingers in a pattern that had to be anything but random. Though Vicky strained her ears, the words didn't sound like English, or even any variation on the half-assed Latin some movies used for magic spells.

"How cool is this?" murmured Crystal, watching Riley as though she could somehow divine how the younger girl was doing it. "We're in an actual magic castle with teleporting doorways. And Riley's just like us. If I didn't know better, I'd say she has a Midwestern accent."

"Well—" began Vicky, wondering how to break that particular bit of news, but was thankfully interrupted by Riley.

"And … done." She beamed at them as she dusted her hands off. "This will drop us to the foot of the mountain in one step. Your ears will feel funny for a second, but that'll just be the magic adjusting the pressure in your sinuses." She thought for a moment. "Um, you've all got coin pouches. The gold ones are called crowns, the silvers are called nobles and the coppers are called jacks. Don't look at me, I didn't name 'em."

"Huh." Vicky had vaguely noticed the leather pouch, but she'd been too busy with getting the outfit on properly to pay more attention to it. Now she untied it from her belt and investigated its contents. The coins were nice and chunky in her hand, with weird writing on them. "What are they worth? I mean, if we want to buy something? And whose money is this, anyway?"

Riley waved her hand vaguely. "It's decimal currency. A jack is worth about a dollar, kind of? Maybe? Some things are cheaper and some are more expensive than you'd find on Earth Bet. And the boss literally doesn't care about money. It doesn't mean any more to him than Monopoly money would to you."

Carol frowned. "Wait a minute. You sound suspiciously familiar with our pop culture. And with how much things cost. Have you been to Earth Bet?"

"Well, that depends on your definition of 'been to'," Riley said. "I was born there, and I only came here a few months ago. Does that count?"

Crystal's expression was a hilarious mixture of 'wtf' and 'I thought so', while Carol's frown became a glare. "You've been deceiving us," she snapped. "Why didn't you tell us the truth from the beginning?"

"Oh, for god's sake!" Sarah stepped in between Riley and Carol. "You're way out of line! She's a perfectly sweet young lady who is under zero obligation to tell us anything she doesn't want to. And to be honest, I don't see what business it is of yours—or mine—where she hails from. She's clearly doing quite well for herself, right here and now!"

"Hear, hear," Neil agreed, moving forward as well. "Carol, Sarah's right. Leave the kid alone."

Carol looked to Mark, who put his hands up defensively. "Don't drag me into this. I was perfectly fine with the way things were. Can we just enjoy visiting Narnia for an hour without making this into a whole Thing?"

"What he said, Mom," added Vicky. "We're in a whole new world. We're guests here! Just stop being so … so you. Please?"

Pressing her lips together, Carol looked at the group opposing her. Crystal and Eric were evidently on Vicky's side, and she didn't even bother seeking support from Amy. Eventually, she huffed out a disgruntled sigh. "Fine. But I still think something weird's going on here. This can't be a healthy working environment."

"I bet it's healthier than being in New Wave," Amy snarked. "C'mon, Riley. I want to go see what the fuss is all about."

Vicky followed her as she stepped forward. Hahaha, wow. Ames is really feeling her oats today. Twilight must be a good influence on her.

<><>​

Panacea

When Amy stepped out through the doorway, she found herself in a small flower-decorated gazebo that surrounded the open arch of the doorway on all sides. Her ears did feel funny for a moment as predicted, but it quickly passed. On her shoulder, Twilight didn't even seem to notice. Amy could feel the warm weight of the hearth-dragon's tail draped across her shoulders, and took comfort from it.

Between the vines draped over the trellis around the gazebo, she saw nearby buildings, and people walking here and there. "Huh," she said out loud. "Hollywood lied to me."

"As if that was a huge revelation." Riley looked over from where she was leaning casually against one of the gazebo posts. "What part of that are you just noticing?"

"Well, the locals." Amy was aware that Vicky and the others were coming through as she spoke, but she wanted to get her point across. "They're kind of cleaner than I expected. And they're wearing clothing just as colourful as ours."

"So, not actually downtrodden peasants and serfs?" Riley grinned and raised an eyebrow, then continued once Amy had nodded in reluctant agreement. "Well, that's mainly because this is a world with magic and stuff. Hygiene's a real thing here, and a lot fewer people die of any given disease. Also, they don't have to depend on weird snails or oysters for specific types of rare cloth or dye, so everyone can wear whatever colours they like."

"And I'm guessing they don't have to worry about some asshole lord or baron or whatever just kidnapping a pretty girl because he likes her looks and having his way with her," Vicky posited as she joined them, hooking her thumb back up over her shoulder. "Having a literal god-tier wizard in his castle on the mountain just up there would go a long way toward discouraging that kind of bullshit."

"The boss doesn't spend a lot of time keeping an eye on what people down here do," Riley admitted, "but he does like it when it's nice and peaceful, and the dragons kind of act as his proxies when things get heated. Being glared at by something the size of a seven-four-seven tends to make even the most self-important assholes reconsider their priorities."

Crystal snorted in amusement. "I haven't even met these dragons yet, and I like them already."

Sarah cleared her throat. "So, let's go meet the locals." She stepped out of the gazebo, parting a couple of the hanging vines with her hands, and made her way into the sunshine.

Crystal and Eric followed her, then Amy and Vicky. Behind her, Amy heard Neil's solid footsteps; she presumed Mark and Carol were coming along too, though she wouldn't have been heartbroken if Carol decided to stay behind. She didn't hate her foster mother, exactly, but the woman had an outright talent for sucking the fun out of a situation.

Twilight turned her head and chirped happily; Amy followed her gaze to see a couple of hearth-dragons flying between the buildings. People glanced up and smiled to see them, then went about their business. It was just another reminder that people here were used to the existence of dragons in general, and hearth-dragons in particular.

They are so damn lucky.

"So, was there anything in particular you'd like to see?" asked Riley, trotting alongside Amy and Vicky. "Or did you just want to look around and enjoy the ambiance?"

"Actually, yes," Neil said. "Is there such a thing as an inn or a tavern around here? Wearing this outfit, I have the strong urge to quaff a tankard of ale, however that's done."

Eric grinned. "I think you need a beard to really enjoy the experience, Dad. If the online games I've been in are any kind of guide, quaffing involves a bit of spillage."

"No beards." Sarah's tone was firm, for all the playfulness in her expression. "Quaff all the ale you like, but no man of mine is growing a beard."

Riley rolled her eyes. "Well, I don't know about the beard side of things, but the tavern's this way. They might even have performers in from the Bardic College."

"Bardic College?" Crystal looked over with interest. "There's such a thing as a Bardic College? Right here in town?"

"There totally is." Riley nodded in confirmation. "They train in singing and whatever musical instruments they're into, and bardic magic as well. When they graduate to journeyman status, they get a sash and a pin shaped like a harp. It's pretty cool."

"… wait, go back." Vicky put a finger up. "You said bardic magic. So there's magic here that the Master of the Castle isn't involved in?"

Riley shrugged. "Well, yeah. But nothing that can match up to what the boss can do."

"Duh." Eric snorted in derision. "That's like saying 'powers that don't match up to what Scion can do'. Because that's basically all powers, everywhere."

"Okay, good point." Riley paused for a moment, as though deciding whether or not to say something. Amy watched her expression, wondering what was up. Then the moment passed, and Riley shook her head slightly. "So, who wants to see the tavern? The venison stew's pretty good, and there's no minimum drinking age here, just in case anyone else wants to sample the ale."

"No." Carol shook her head firmly. "You children will not be drinking."

"How about me?" Crystal's tone was challenging. "If I went to England, I could drink there right now."

"So, we can legally drink here?" asked Vicky. "Really?"

"Sure, why not?" Riley shrugged again. "It's pretty rich, and it makes the tips of my ears tingle. Not something I want to do as a habit, but it's nice on a cold day."

"You will not be drinking!" Carol turned to Sarah. "Come on, back me up on this at least!"

"Say what you like to your kids, but leave mine out of it." Sarah drew in Crystal and Eric by eye. "I'm trusting you to be sensible. Just remember, we're still meeting the dragons later and you'll want to be clear-headed for that. Okay?"

Eric nodded earnestly. "Okay, sure. And I'll make sure Crystal doesn't get too drunk, the lush."

"I do not—!" began Crystal hotly, then moderated her tone when Sarah raised an eyebrow. Clearing her throat, she started again. "I do not get drunk. And I totally wasn't the one who got into the liquor cabinet that one time."

"Really." Neil looked down at his son, who shot Crystal a betrayed glare. "I think we're going to be having a chat about that, when we get home."

"Mom, it's fine," Vicky insisted. "If I get too soused, Ames can just break down the alcohol and make me totally sober again."

Amy folded her arms, hiding a grin at Carol's expression. Back on Earth Bet, Brandish had all the authority. Here and now, that authority was eroding away. But Vicky still needed to be filled in on certain facts. "Yeah, sure, Ames can absolutely do that. But just remember, it'll also come with a monster hangover, which I'm not going to do anything about, because that's brain work and I don't do brains."

Riley shook her head. Just loudly enough for Amy to hear (which Amy suspected was deliberate) she muttered, "How you guys ever caught any villains is a mystery to me." Then she raised her voice to be heard by all concerned. "Uh, like I said, the tavern's down this way."

As they moved in a group down the cobblestone road, Amy took in the rustic-looking buildings and the people around them. The climate seemed temperate, and the village had more of a medieval-Europe flavour than an Old West appearance. A horse clopped slowly past, pulling a wagon full of produce, with a hearth-dragon perched on its head.

Vicky gestured up at what appeared to be torch sconces mounted at intervals on the buildings. "Does someone come along and light those? Surely they wouldn't burn all night."

"Yes and no." Riley grinned at Vicky's frown of incomprehension. "Those are everfire torches. As soon as it gets dark enough, the night watch make the rounds and give the command words for them to ignite. They burn with a pretty purple light."

"Oh. Huh." Vicky's expression showed that she had once more run face-first into her expectations about this society. "More magic, just like that, huh?"

"Just like that," Riley agreed blandly. "There's a few casters in town who make money from their magic. Healers, crop growth, animal diseases, regular rain, Oathbonds, stuff like that. From what I understand, the more you branch out, the wider your range of clientele, but you're nowhere near as good as a dedicated practitioner. One guy might be able to make it rain over your fields by glaring really hard at a cloud, while the other guy takes a week of chanting to get the same effect. But that guy can also knit a busted femur in a few days or cure your cow of whatever's stopping her milk."

"Heck, Amy could do two of those herself." Crystal threw a companionable arm around Amy's shoulders, careful not to dislodge Twilight. "Though I'm not sure how well you'd do at making it rain."

"In a word: poorly." Amy looked over at Riley. "So it's true. If I wanted to move here, I could totally set up as a dedicated healer, and make money out of it?"

"Oh, easily." Riley flipped her hand airily. "You, they'd love. A healer who can get it done in minutes? Plus, having a hearth-dragon is an extra bonus. They're seen as good luck, and as a mark of superior character. It's more that being bonded to a hearth-dragon helps you be a good person, but the end result is the same."

"Wouldn't other healers get annoyed that Amy's stealing their thunder?" asked Vicky. "Because she'd be a lot better than most of them, if not all."

"Not really." This time, Riley's gesture encompassed the village and the land beyond. "Some illnesses and parasites and stuff have a distinctly magical aspect, and I'm pretty sure her power wouldn't have the first idea how to deal with them. Magical healers, on the other hand, can totally deal with that sort of thing. And here we are."

"Oh." Vicky looked up at the sign hanging in front of the building Riley had just indicated. It was garishly painted, with a rainbow-coloured dragon enthusiastically pouring the contents of a suitably-scaled tankard down its throat. Though the writing was just as unreadable as that on the coins, she had a fair notion of what it said. "Let me guess. The Drunken Dragon?"

"Got it in one." Riley grinned. "Though some people call it The Other Dragon. The joke is, if you can see two dragons, it's time to go home."

"Wait." Eric suddenly looked nervous. "Do dragons drink? And get drunk?"

Crystal snorted. "Who's gonna stop 'em?"

Riley shook her head. "Not the big ones. Though hearth-dragons have been known to enjoy a little ale from time to time. It's very much an individual quirk, though. None of them go the whole hog and get drunk, mainly because they know they'll get laughed at by the others if they do."

Amy reached up and stroked Twilight, who chirped in appreciation and leaned into her hand. "Somehow, that doesn't surprise me in the slightest."

Neil pushed aside the door-curtain and stepped inside, followed by Sarah and their kids. Vicky and Amy went in side by side, with Riley behind them. When Amy's eyes adjusted to the lower light levels inside—not too bad all told, with odd purplish torches illuminating the darker corners and a large fireplace (with an equally large pot bubbling away) adding warmth and light to the main area—she beheld a sawdust-covered floor, heavy-built tables, and a long counter with a heavily-built man behind it. Several of the patrons of the tavern, wearing the same rough-spun but colourful clothing that the people outside had been displaying, turned to look at them then lost interest again.

"Look," murmured Crystal, pointing at the rafters. Amy raised her eyes in that direction, then realised that there were maybe a dozen hearth-dragons up there. As she watched, two broke free of the group and swooped down to land in the fireplace; that is, in the fire itself.

"Holy crap," blurted Eric. "Did you just see that? Are they okay?"

Amy frowned. "I think so?" From what she could see, among the embers and the burning wood, the two hearth-dragons (rather like Twilight in form if not colouring) were rolling and playing happily. A moment later, they shook off the ash and sparks, and took flight out of the fireplace. They made a circuit of the room, trailing a few last sparks from their still-glowing red and gold scales, before rejoining their brethren in the rafters.

"Wooooow," breathed Vicky. Despite the fact that she'd seen hearth-dragons up close before, and even flown with them, her eyes were alight with wonder.

Crystal was even more smitten. "Can all dragons do that?" she asked, keeping her voice down with a visible effort.

"No, just the red ones," Riley explained. "They're basically fireproof. Their big cousins are the ones that can breathe fire."

"Hm." Sarah looked thoughtful. "So if someone bonds with a red one, do they become fireproof too?"

Riley nodded. "That's the way it works, yeah. But you can't just bond with one to order. The hearth-dragons pick the people they bond with, a lot more than the other way around."

"Well, that's definitely something to think about," Neil admitted. "But let's get a table while we're doing that, so we don't stick out too much."

"Says the guy literally wearing a battle-axe on his back," Mark retorted in a rare display of snark.

Neil smirked. "Who axed you?"

Amid the collective groans from Amy and the other youngsters, as well as Sarah, he made his way to an as-yet unoccupied table, and pulled out two of the heavy chairs: one for himself, and one for Sarah. She smiled and sat down, while Amy and Vicky pulled out seats for themselves. Amy also grabbed one for Riley; while the younger girl had shown herself to be extremely capable in her own right, she was still a skinny twelve-year-old.

As soon as they were all seated and Amy was just starting to wonder if they should've gone to the counter to order, a young woman came over to their table. Her clothing was neat and tidy and she had a leather pouch slung on her hip; the smile she gave them as she came up was either genuine or she was really good at her job.

"Good morn to you, folks," she said cheerfully. "What would you be having?"

"Um," Neil said, caught on the back foot. "What's good, here? And how much is it going to cost?"

She tilted her head knowingly. "Ah, I'd wager you're new in town, if you don't know of our famed venison stew. And for drink we have ale or mead, both the finest you'll find around. Three jacks for either, or five for two."

"I'll have a bowl of stew then," Neil said. "And some ale too, please. Sarah?"

"Just the stew, thanks," Sarah said. "The youngsters will have smaller cups of the mead, if you have them."

"And the stew for each of us," Vicky added hastily. "That smells amazing."

"And it tastes even better," the serving woman acknowledged. She took Mark's order for himself and Carol (who had apparently decided to stay silent for the moment) then moved off again.

"Okay," Eric said once she'd gone back to the counter. "I'm just going to say, this trip's been cooler than I could've imagined so far, and we haven't even gotten to the big dragons yet. Mom, Dad, thanks for bringing us."

"What he said," Vicky agreed. "I've been to this world exactly twice, and flying with dragons was totally awesome, don't get me wrong. But I never came down here until now, and dressed up like this it feels like we've just stepped into a fantasy movie."

"Just make sure there isn't some shadowy guy sitting in the corner with a broken sword," Crystal quipped.

"Wrong franchise," Amy shot back. "This is Narnia, not Middle Earth." She paused and looked at Riley. "Or do they actually have short people with hairy feet, here?"

"No shorter or hairier than normal," Riley assured her, deadpan. "Some do choose to live underground, but they do that back on Earth Bet too, from what I understand."

Another group pushed aside the curtain and entered, chatting busily among themselves. Their apparent leader, a woman clad in the same kind of hard-wearing leathers that Sarah had chosen, had a green hearth-dragon on her shoulder. When it saw Twilight, it chirped a cheerful greeting, which Amy's companion returned. Both took to the air at once, passed by each other, then flew up to where the other hearth-dragons were perched in the rafters.

"Drinks all round!" announced the leader of the newcomers. "Another outlaw band off the roads, and we've been well rewarded for our efforts!" Gold coins clattered on the counter; the patrons raised a cheer, and their mugs as well.

"Those guys totally look like a classic adventuring party, don't they?" murmured Eric. "Bows, swords, crossbows. They're the real deal."

Crystal nodded, then frowned. "Is it just me, or does the one with the stringed instrument and the feathers in her hair look kind of familiar?"

Amy turned her head just far enough to look for herself. Her cousin wasn't exactly wrong; the feathers entwined with the musician's hair were a bright yellow, strongly reminiscent of the disgraced rogue cape Bad Canary, who'd been sent to the Birdcage for misusing her Master powers.

"She does, yeah," Vicky agreed before Amy could speak. "Riley, does this happen much? People from different universes ending up looking the same?"

"Not like that, no," Riley began, but was interrupted by the return of the serving woman.

"Your stew, gentles and ladies," the woman said briskly, placing steaming bowls on the table, along with a fresh-baked bread roll for each place. "I'll be back in a moment with your drinks. Keep your coin for those; they've already been paid for." She nodded toward Neil. "'Tis not often we get one of your size in here. Would you be of a mind to try a larger tankard?" A gesture toward the counter revealed an oversized mug, twice the size of the regular type, being taken down from a shelf.

Neil glanced at the rest of the table. "Uh …"

"Do it!" hissed Eric.

"Yeah, Dad," Crystal chimed in. "Do it!"

"Do it! Do it! Do it!" Vicky chanted, grinning broadly.

Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes. "Go ahead, honey. You may as well."

"Alright then." Neil nodded to the woman. "Let's do this thing."

"I'll be right back, then." She traipsed away, while other patrons raised their mugs to Neil. It seemed to Amy that this was some kind of regular challenge.

Taking up her spoon, she was less than surprised when Twilight landed on the table before her just a second or so later. The hearth-dragon eyed the stew, took a deep and appreciative sniff of the odours coming off it, then gave the most impressive rendition of puppy-dog eyes Amy had seen from her yet. Going solely by the hopeful crooning, Amy might well have assumed Twilight had been starving for days.

"Wow," she said, amused. "It's like I didn't already give you breakfast. Where do you put it all?" But she dipped her spoon in the stew anyway and fished out a nice chunk of meat, then plucked it off the spoon and handed it to Twilight. The hearth-dragon accepted it politely and ate it.

Around the table, she noticed, everyone else was also faced with a hungry-looking hearth-dragon. Like Twilight, they were waiting until they were offered food, then eating it carefully. None were actually starving, she figured; they were just really good at acting that way.

"Haha wow," chuckled Eric, feeding one of the red hearth-dragons a piece of bread roll soaked in the gravy. "These guys sure have it made. Cute enough to be fed regularly, smart enough not to be pushy about it."

Now that Twilight had been temporarily sated, Amy tried out the stew for herself. It was as delicious as it smelled, with a rich variety of seasonings that she didn't recognise but she still rather enjoyed. She took another couple of spoonfuls before feeding Twilight another piece of meat.

The drinks arrived around then; Neil got his oversized tankard, Mark a normal-sized one, and five smaller cups were placed before Amy, Vicky, Eric, Crystal and Riley. Amy hadn't been overly interested in getting alcohol—she'd never tried it before, not really seeing the appeal—but she took hers up and sniffed at it, then gingerly tasted it. Like the stew, it was rich in flavour, but sweet instead of savoury.

"Hey," Vicky said, sounding a little surprised. "This is really nice."

"Our meadery's the finest for a long way around," the serving woman confirmed with a nod of satisfaction. "There's magic-touched flowers in the woods where the bees gather their pollen, and that honey's used by some to make potions. We use it in our mead and you can tell the difference, can you not?"

"It's definitely got a zing to it," Crystal said. "Here, cutie, try this." She dipped some bread in the mead then offered it to the hearth-dragon perching in front of her. Accepting it delicately with its forelimbs, it ate the offering with every evidence of enjoyment.

"How about you, Dad?" Eric grinned at Neil, then nodded toward the oversized tankard in front of him. "Are you going to take the challenge, or am I going to have to man up and do it for you?"

"Dang, Eric, how much of this mead have you had?" jibed Vicky with a grin. "It's good stuff but you might want to lay off it if it's gonna make you say stuff like that."

"No, no, he's right." Neil took up the tankard. "I accepted the challenge fair and square. Let's see how good this ale really is."

"Dooo it," Eric egged him on.

"Dooo it," Crystal echoed.

"Do it, do it, do it," Vicky reiterated her earlier chant.

Even Amy found herself grinning. "Do it," she added onto the tail end of everyone else.

Taking a deep breath, Neil raised the tankard to his mouth and began to drink. He gradually tilted it farther and farther back as he worked his way through the contents. Toward the end, Amy began to worry that he was going to run out of breath before he ran out of ale, but he finally raised it up past horizontal, gulped down the last of the ale, and slammed the tankard down on the table. Then, just to punctuate what he'd done, he released a long rolling belch that almost drowned out the spontaneous cheering that arose from the tables around.

Sarah rolled her eyes, though Amy could see pride at her husband's accomplishment on her face. "Seriously, men are all the same, whether it's a medieval tavern or a redneck bar. Drinking and belching."

Amy could tell Vicky was about to respond, but at that moment her sister's gaze fell on something that made her eyes widen. Looking in that direction, Amy's own eyebrows rose in surprise. "Wow, Mom," Vicky said. "Look at you."

Carol raised her head from where she was cuddling a hearth-dragon covered in silvery scales. The miniature dragon was snuggling into her embrace, its head resting on her shoulder with its eyes closed in bliss. Arrested in the motion of stroking the hearth-dragon's wings, her hand started moving again, softly caressing the smooth membranes. The dragon rumbled gently in appreciation.

"What?" she asked.



End of Part Twenty-Six

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Twenty-Seven: Dragon Reunion

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Panacea

"So cute," Vicky cooed, leaning in to rub the silver-scaled dragon under the chin as they headed back down the street toward the castle portal.

"Sooo cute," echoed Crystal, stroking its wing, which flared slightly to press into her hand. Its entire attitude radiated serene assurance that such attention was only its rightful due. "What's its name, Aunt Carol?"

"Her name is Argent," Carol said, leaning on a brittle knife-edge of pride. "And you needn't make fun of me."

"They're not," Amy said, cuddling Twilight and rubbing her belly the way she liked it, while the hearth-dragon's hind legs kicked gently. "We're not. You're just feeling insecure because this is a whole new thing for you, especially since you didn't trust it before. Believe me, I know exactly what you're going through."

"Why didn't you …" Carol closed her eyes, shook her head, and cleared her throat. "Why didn't you tell me it was like this?" Argent made a soothing rumble in her chest, and rubbed her head up against Carol's jaw. Amy watched as the tension in Carol's posture visibly relaxed.

"Well, first because it's not something anyone can describe without half an hour and exclusive use of a thesaurus for different versions of the word 'awesome'." Amy grinned at Carol's momentary sour look, mainly because it was true. "And second, would you have accepted what I had to say without trying to pick it apart?"

"I …" Amy could tell that Carol really wanted to say yes, but her foster mother's innate honesty, bolstered by the hearth-dragon in her arms, killed the words in her throat. "It's different now. I know how you feel."

"And I know how you feel." Amy gave Twilight a speculative glance. "Are you two helping us connect like this?" It wasn't telepathy, so much as a stronger level of empathy than they'd ever felt before (which, sad to say, wasn't hard to achieve). Twilight chirped happily in the affirmative. "Oh, okay, then. So apparently this is a thing I didn't know about hearth-dragons."

"Oh, yeah," Riley piped up. "If there's already any kind of emotional connection between people bonded to hearth-dragons, they can improve the connection. Bridge the gap, sort of thing. Now, I know Brandish isn't fully bonded yet, but the link is already there and neither side is fighting it. So, it's as good as done."

"Wait, people fight that sort of thing?" asked Crystal. "Are they nuts?"

"Sometimes, it's just a passing connection. Or the person or the dragon isn't ready for a bonding." Riley shrugged. "This is why a normal bonding usually takes days, to make sure both sides are ready for it. I'm just gonna say, the way we're going two for two with Panacea and Brandish, there's probably a lot of capes on Bet who could use a hearth-dragon in their life."

"Argh," groaned Crystal. "I don't want to sound like That Person, but if I say what I want to say, I'm going to sound like it anyway."

"Let me guess," Eric said from behind her. "'Why does she get one, and not me?' Am I close?"

"Shut up," Crystal retorted, which was answer enough. "Okay, fine, I'll say it. How come Aunt Carol gets a hearth-dragon when she didn't even want one, and I don't when I've wanted one ever since I saw Twilight?"

Amy would never be sure if the words came from her, or the understanding she had with Twilight. "Sometimes it's not what you want, but what you need. You're not nearly as broken as me or Carol." She gave her cousin a cheeky grin. "I'm certain that if you spent a few weeks here, you'd find one to bond with. But it wouldn't be as quick as happened with me and Twilight, or is happening between Argent and Carol."

Vicky nodded thoughtfully. "Sort of like triage. Someone with a sore knee comes in ahead of someone else who's been in a traumatic car accident, you'd see to the accident victim first. Even if that knee is really, really sore."

Amy's grin broadened. "Doesn't stop 'em from whining about it." She tilted her head and glanced toward Riley. "So, what sort of hearth-dragon is that one, anyway?"

"Oh, Argent's part of the lunar strain. A moon dragon, if you want to call her that. Once your mom's fully bonded to her, she'll be stronger and faster when the moon's up, and she'll be able to see perfectly in moonlight. There might be some other minor effects, but those are the major ones." Riley looked pleased with herself. "Hearth-dragons are fun."

Vicky snorted with amusement. "Wait, so Mom will be a … were-hero, I guess? Like a werewolf but not as fuzzy?"

"Now, now," Sarah said austerely. "No making fun of Carol. She's going through a lot right now." Along with the note of amusement, her voice also held a tinge of sternness.

Vicky nodded contritely. "You're right, Aunt Sarah. Sorry, Mom."

Neil cleared his throat. "Not to change the subject, but I'm gonna change the subject. Riley, you obviously like hearth-dragons and they like you. How come you haven't bonded with one of them yet?"

"Well, I gotta tell you, the state I was in when Snek first brought me here, I would've needed about ten of them to bring me back around to 'normal'." Riley shrugged, as though her statement was nothing out of the ordinary. "But the boss took a special interest in dealing with my problems, so now I'm about as well-adjusted as you can get. I like hearth-dragons just fine, and they like me, but we don't need each other to the point that we're going to bond."

Sarah frowned. "I'm sorry if this sounds like prying, but … well, to be honest, that sounds like there's a lot being left out. Do you feel comfortable with telling us why you were in such a bad way when you got here?"

"Wow, Mom," Crystal spoke up. "Whatever happened to not digging into her past, like you said earlier?"

"You kind of did say that, Mom," Eric agreed. "And with the way Snek rescues people who really need it, the fact that she needed the Master's help when she got here isn't surprising at all. Not to me, anyway."

"Also, Earth Bet's kind of a shithole," Amy added. "We all know it. There's a lot of walking wounded out there." She wasn't even being sarcastic when she said it.

"Not as much of one since Snek showed up," Mark noted, causing everyone to look at him in surprise. He raised his eyebrows. "What? It's true. Snek's eaten two of the three Endbringers, and I've heard there's a brisk betting pool over when—or if—Behemoth is ever going to show his face again."

"He'd be wise not to," Riley said with some confidence. "Snek likes his spicy food. The hotter, the better. I've seen him chow down on literal demons with hellfire for blood like you or I would go through a bucket of spicy chicken wings."

Crystal began to giggle. "If Behemoth hasn't heard of any of this, he's in for a serious surprise when he shows up again. I think I'll sell tickets."

"Don't expect to sell many," Vicky advised her. "Snek does not waste time when he's hunting Endbringers."

"Wouldn't that make him the Endbringer Endbringer?" asked Eric, faux innocently.

Neil made a noise of mock annoyance. "Brat. Beat me to it."

Amy glanced at Carol, who chose that moment to look back at her. The empathic link, it seemed, was still going strong. Argent didn't seem to be as playful as Twilight, though she was definitely as affectionate, snuggling into Carol's arms and wrapping her tail gently around Carol's wrist.

Good, Amy decided, giving Carol a slight smile. She definitely needs this. I know I did.

After a moment Carol smiled back, before returning her attention to her hearth-dragon.

<><>​

Glory Girl

The Master of the Castle already ticked all the boxes when it came to the 'totally bullshit' stakes, so Vicky wasn't surprised when his only reaction to Argent's presence in the group was a nod and a smile. It was like he'd either known all along what was going to happen, or had even arranged for it to turn out that way.

She wasn't willing to bet on which one it was. Nor was she about to argue with the results.

"Welcome back," he said, removing a set of goggles which included an intricate multi-lensed magnifier; it seemed he'd been using this to examine one of the tentacles when they arrived back in the castle. Vicky wasn't too certain that all the lenses were made of normal matter, considering how some of them seemed to disappear and reappear, and at least one changed places on the magnifier as she watched. "The Dragonmark has returned, and will no doubt be pleased to meet you all, and reacquaint themselves with Victoria and Amelia. I trust your sojourn in the village was enjoyable?"

"It was a lot of fun," Crystal confirmed. "Dad took the big tankard challenge in the tavern."

"Passed it, too," Riley added. "Oh, and the Travellers are back too, boss. Looks like they caught up with the Cragmores. They're flush with gold, so they collected the bounty. No injuries."

The Master of the Castle smiled and nodded approvingly. "That's very good to hear. The redoubtable Ms Meinhardt has justified my faith in her several times over now."

"Uh …" ventured Vicky. "No disrespect intended, sir, but from what I've seen, you could personally pinpoint and zap bandit gangs from orbit with the greatest of ease. How come you do it this way?"

"Vicky!" Amy hissed. "Not cool!"

Fortunately, the Master didn't seem offended in the slightest. "An excellent question, Victoria. The answer is threefold. First, as you may have noted, my focus is broad. I watch over, and protect, entire worlds. While I am capable of narrowing it to the level you describe, that would force me to relax my vigilance over the wider sphere. Second, bandits are like roaches; while they do little damage individually, they are legion. Were I to devote my time to eradicating them all, it would draw an unconscionable amount of time from my greater projects. Third, there are many people for whom the pursuit and apprehension of such malefactors brings enjoyment and fulfilment. Thus, I find it easier to locate and place such people in appropriate roles and allow them free rein to perform their allotted tasks, than try to do it all myself."

"And that's what you've got Snek for," Eric said in tones of sudden realisation. "He takes care of the mid-range stuff for you."

"Indeed, young Eric. He began his time with me as a simple familiar, but I have added several improvements since then. I am quite proud of the way he has grown and found friends of his own. He is truly a good boy." The Master raised his head at a triple knock on the door leading out of the laboratory. "And there he is now. Come in, Snek. Your friends have returned."

The door opened and Snek slithered in, looking somewhat less scuffed than he had before. Even the minor damage to the hat showed subtle signs of repair. "Hello, friendss," he said happily. "Ssnek likess your clothess. Very nicce." His gaze switched to Argent. "Friendss have found another hearth-dragon. Iss very pretty. What iss name, pleasse?"

Carol straightened her back and held Argent a little closer, to which the little dragon didn't object at all. "Her name is Argent, and thank you." She took a deep breath. "Also, I want to apologise for the times I've been rude to you. It was unfair of me to be that way, especially considering how much you've helped my daughters."

Vicky caught Amy's slow double blink out of the corner of her eye as Snek slithered closer. The giant snake reared up slightly so that he could smile at her from eye level. "Ssnek knowss angry blonde lady wass unhappy. Iss good that you have found hearth-dragon Argent. Friendss?"

Leaning in toward her mother, Vicky murmured, "Boop him on the snoot. He likes that."

Carol's smile was a little strained, but it was there all the same. Shifting her hold on Argent to free one hand, she reached out and tentatively fist-bumped Snek's nose. "Yes, friends," she said. "I'd very much like that."

Argent let out a rarr that sounded approving, and spread one wing across Carol's chest in what seemed like a hug, while Snek's smile widened. "Ssnek likess having friendss. Go play with dragonss now?"

"You guys go ahead," Riley said. "Imma stay and help the boss. Have fun."

"Thanks for showing us around." Crystal went over to Riley and gave her a hug, which was reciprocated. "You're pretty cool. It's been great."

"Heck yeah," Eric agreed. "I don't know what I expected when I came here, but this wasn't it."

Riley beamed at them as she began to pull on her protective gloves. "That's really good to hear. Let me know how it goes with Cirrus and the others."

"Totally."

<><>​

Lady Photon

Meeting the Master of the Castle had been a rare experience in Sarah's life; he was impressive without being domineering. The Castle itself was thoroughly intriguing, not least due to the rooms with the magic wardrobes. Sarah had also enjoyed the trip to the village, the hearty fare in the tavern, and the drink that had come with it, though that experience was topped off by Carol's unexpected acquisition of her hearth-dragon companion.

But the full-sized dragons threatened to blow all that out of the metaphorical water.

They were huge, but their size was only part of it. The power and grace inherent within their forms was breathtaking, and they were smart. On the other side of the coin, as Vicky had noted, they were extremely vain and soaked up attention as readily as hearth-dragons did.

Sarah just had no idea what to make of them, even after introductions had been performed.

||It's good to see you again, Vicky,|| the one called Finesse said in that weird broadcast mind-speech. ||I see that Twilight is doing well with Amy.||

||And Carol, is it?|| added Cirrus. ||I must congratulate you on your upcoming bonding. You have done well, the two of you.||

"I … uh … thank you." Carol honestly looked more than a little taken aback herself. Argent was in her element, of course, trading happy chirps with the other hearth-dragons flying around. "Is there … anything I need to do? To look out for?"

Cirrus seemed to consider this for a moment. ||Do not neglect her. Until the bond matures, she will need to be with you or in your near vicinity. Let your own feelings be your guide; they will be a mirror of hers.||

"And what if …" Carol stumbled over the words. "It'll be a whole new world, when I take her back home. She's inquisitive, curious. What if she goes exploring and … and gets lost?" There was real worry in her voice, more anxiety over someone else's welfare than Sarah had heard from her in some time.

Cirrus chuckled. ||Your concern speaks well of you, but fear not. The bonding process has already begun, so she will always know where you are, and you will know where she is. She may get lost, but she will never lose you.||

"Well, that's definitely good to hear," Carol said, cupping her hand under Argent's chin. "Isn't it? Because I know just from looking at you that you're going to be all sorts of trouble. Aren't you?" Belying her words, her tone was downright fond. Argent crooned in reply, and snuggled a little more closely into her embrace.

"She's raised two daughters," Sarah explained. "Crystal and Eric are mine. From what I've seen of Twilight, once she and Argent get more confident about exploration, they're going to be getting into everything."

Finesse chuckled. ||You have a fine understanding of hearth-dragons, I see. So, which of you wishes to come flying with me first?||

"Oh, I can fly on my own, like Eric and Crystal," Sarah said, lifting a few inches off the ground by way of demonstration. Out away from the side of the mountain, her two children were already swooping through the sky along with Vicky, accompanied by most of the Dragonmark. Even Amy was seated astride another dragon, with Twilight flying alongside. "Carol, you can go with her. I'll be your wing-woman."

"That works," Neil agreed. "Mark, you want to go with Cirrus? I'm pretty sure another one of these big strong dragons will be able to get me up there."

"No, I'll be fine." Mark settled down on a conveniently flattened rock, adjusting the hang of his rapier so the hilt didn't dig into his ribs. "You three go ahead. Knock yourselves out."

Sarah shared a glance with Neil, who shrugged. It was hard to get Mark out of his shell at times like this, but it wasn't as though he would come to harm on this rocky ledge.

"Okay, then," she said. "Let's go flying with dragons."

Cirrus beamed. ||You're going to love it. I always do.||

<><>​

Flashbang

Mark was so proud of Carol as she tentatively climbed aboard the dragon called Finesse.

She'd always been so set in her ways, demanding that others bend first. It was no great admission to say that her will was stronger than his. Coming on this expedition, she hadn't been happy with matters and had been quick to find fault, and he'd fully expected things to go wrong because of it.

He hadn't expected her to find common cause with a cute little silver-scaled dragonet, who was even now perching on Carol's shoulder with wings half-spread in anticipation, chirping encouragement. That should be me. I should be the one telling her that she can do it.

Hell, I don't think I could even bond with a hearth-dragon. I'd be scared of it going wrong somehow.

When she was settled, the dragon moved toward the cliff edge, then brought its wings down as it leaped out over the void. From what he could see, the transition from ground movement to flight was so smooth as to be unnoticeable. Neil, on Cirrus' back, was already airborne and whooping with exhilaration.

At that moment, he felt a pang of envy toward his brother-in-law. He's always been more of a thrill-seeker than me. Not that Neil was much of a risk-taker, but compared to Mark, most people were downright daredevils.

It was truly an inspiring view, out over the stunning vista supplied by the Dragonmark's eyrie. The colossal, winged forms of the dragons swooped and turned with insane agility, accompanied by both their tiny cousins and the flight-capable members of New Wave. All that was missing was … him.

I should be out there with them. Enjoying the moment. Sharing the joy. Guilt dug its claws into him as he watched them. Look at me, the guy who goes all the way to Narnia and then doesn't actually do any of the fun stuff. While my wife does things she never did before in her life.

Finesse swooped by and Carol waved, Argent doing barrel-rolls alongside her. If only to justify his decision to not go out there and join her, he pulled his phone out. He noted with mild astonishment that he actually had bars of signal—how the hell did they pull that off?—then opened the camera app and started taking photos. The air was crystal clear, and he fancied he could see sunlight shining off every vivid scale on each of the dragons—of both varieties—out there.

There was a friendly chirp in his ear, and a weight settled onto his shoulder. He half-turned his head, to see a hearth-dragon leaning in to peer inquisitively at the screen of his phone. It had shimmering orange scales on top of its head, fading to salmon under its throat; the colours of sunrise, if he thought of it that way.

"Hello, there," he said quietly, trying not to do anything that might scare it off. "I'm taking photos, see?" Framing one of the closer dragons, he tapped the icon that took a picture.

The hearth-dragon made a noise of interest, so he took another picture, then hit the selfie icon and angled the phone so it could see its own face in the screen.

That got its attention. Leaning in even closer with its wings spread for balance, it admired its likeness on the screen, then deliberately posed before reaching out with its forelimb and pressing the photo icon. There was an electronic click, and it chirped in triumph.

"Okay, let's see how that turned out," he said, and flicked through to the photo the hearth-dragon had just taken of itself. It was actually pretty good, even considering that the cute little critters didn't have a bad side. "Nicely done. You may have a talent there."

The hearth-dragon chirped in definitive agreement, then gestured at the phone. Mark didn't have to know dragon-talk to understand that as 'please may I take another photo?'. It somehow even managed to put it as a polite request rather than a demand.

"Sure," he said, and opened up the camera icon again. "Another selfie?"

Raising its head, the hearth-dragon squawked, drawing the attention of several of its fellows that had been flying around nearby. They swooped over and landed in front of Mark; with a series of chirps, they looked intently at the phone, some spreading their wings or otherwise posing. As Mark began to wonder exactly how smart these things were, the one on his shoulder tapped the icon again, taking a second photo.

<><>​

Panacea

Amy slid off the dragon's neck onto the ground, still grinning broadly. "Thank you," she said. "That was a lot of fun."

||Any time,|| the dragon—his name was Katabatic—replied. ||It's always fun flying a bonded rider.|| He moved back to join his fellows, and Amy caught his thought-speech directed at the other dragons; ||Did you hear that? She thought I was a lot of fun!||

Smiling privately to herself, she headed back toward where Mark was sitting with a bunch of hearth-dragons around him. Vicky and Crystal landed on either side of her and fell into step. "Whoo!" Vicky enthused. "That was just as amazing as the first time!"

"It was definitely right up there in the 'holy shit' stakes," agreed Crystal. "Hearth-dragons are crazy, but in a good way. How was it riding one of them, Amy?"

Amy held up her arm as Twilight swooped in to land on it, then gathered the hearth-dragon into a cuddle. "I kind of regret not doing it the first time we came here, but then I wouldn't have met cutie here, so I guess there's not a lot to regret." In her arms, Twilight squawked in agreement. "See? She says the same thing."

As they reached Mark, the hearth-dragons looked around and chirped in greeting, which was returned by Twilight. "So what are you up to, Dad?" asked Vicky.

It was then that something stirred in the emotional band, and Amy saw that Mark had a hearth-dragon perched on his leg, as he showed it photos on his phone. He looked up at them a little sheepishly, as he scratched the back of its neck. "You are never going to believe this …"



End of Part Twenty-Seven

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Twenty-Eight: The Dragon Invasion of Brockton Bay

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]



Panacea

Snek slithered proudly alongside the members of New Wave as they trooped back into the Master's workshop/laboratory/whatever else it was. While other hearth-dragons flew overhead in a kind of honour guard, Amy had Twilight snuggled into her arms. Carol was likewise holding onto Argent (who was quite pleased with this arrangement) and Mark was still wearing a 'how did I get to this point' look, with the sunrise-coloured hearth-dragon perched on his shoulder, its tail wrapped around his shoulders.

Just as Amy was feeling the emotional connection with Carol, she was starting to pick up hints from Mark as well. It seemed that his dragon (Mark hadn't given it a name yet) was bolstering his mood, keeping his emotional downturns from diving into the abyss. He responded to the occasional chirp in the ear by reaching up and petting it, which it accepted as its due.

Riley and the Master of the Castle looked up from the body of the Faceless Minion they were dissecting, and Riley broke into a broad grin. "Well, darn," she said happily. "Congratulations, Mr Dallon."

"I'm still not quite sure how it happened," Mark admitted sheepishly. "I was taking photos and he was interested, so I showed him how and let him take a few himself. The next thing I knew, we'd clicked. So to speak."

"Bonding can follow many paths," the Master confirmed. "This is a good thing for other reasons as well. One hearth-dragon would be seen as an oddity, perhaps something to be feared, but greater numbers will allow the general populace to accept them as commonplace. Familiarity breeds complacency."

Amy was pretty sure the version of the saying she'd heard went slightly differently, but she was in no way about to contradict someone who so evidently had his shit together. Also, she was certain that between him and Snek, if anyone tried to pull any shenanigans with the hearth-dragons, they would be in a world of trouble in extremely short order. That is, if Carol and Mark and Vicky hadn't already obliterated them for their troubles.

The first mistake she suspected anyone would make regarding the hearth-dragons would be to see them as mindless animals. Close on the heels of that one would be any attempt to coax them away from their bonded partners. While Twilight and her cohorts were actually quite susceptible to food bribes (they loved treats, period) they were also empathetic, and would easily pick up on ill intent before anyone could get close enough to do anything stupid. And even with the purest intent (if attempting to steal a hearth-dragon's loyalty could be called 'pure') there was no way to shift a bond to themselves.

"That's good to hear," Carol said, cradling Argent in her arms. "We'll also be bringing them back whenever we visit … I mean, if you don't have a problem with us visiting?"

Wow, who are you, and what've you done with Carol? The question crossed Amy's mind before she could stop it, and she flushed as Carol glanced sideways at her. The emotional bridging effect of the hearth-dragons didn't let them read each other's minds, but they could certainly pick up emotions. From Carol, she got rueful acknowledgement; they shared a slightly embarrassed smile before Carol looked away again.

"There will be no problem with that whatsoever," the Master stated firmly. "If I happen to be busy, Snek will be entirely capable of escorting you across the dimensional barrier. He enjoys spending time with his friends and helping others, and I fully intend to encourage that behaviour."

"Ah. That's good to hear." Carol nodded toward the splayed-out inhuman corpse on the table. "Are you finding out anything, uh, useful from that?" Even on a day trip to a fantasy world, with a hearth-dragon in her arms, it appeared she was constitutionally incapable of refraining from asking lawyer-type questions when the opportunity arose.

Either the Master of the Castle was aware of this, or he was really good at humouring people, because he answered without hesitation. "All information is useful information, when applied appropriately. With the assistance of Riley's expertise, I am confident of devising a simple ward which will bar the Faceless Minions from entering any region where I have decided they are unwelcome."

Magical wards, simple or otherwise, were entirely outside of Amy's experience, and she was pretty sure the same applied to everyone else in the New Wave party. "I bet the multiverse will be pleased to hear about that. Those guys do not look like the happy-fun type of party guests to me."

"And Panacea wins the Understatement of the Year prize," Riley agreed from alongside the cadaver. "Did you need me to show you the way back up there? Because right now I'm wrist-deep in Guts Man Was Not Meant To Know, holding two bits apart that I don't think we want coming into contact. Turns out they had a pseudo-biological dead-man switch, who knew?"

"Ah, no, we should be good," Vicky assured her. "We'll just go and change." She paused, looking at the Master of the Castle. "Is it okay if we keep these outfits? Because I totally want to rock this look come Halloween, and there's no way I can get anything this authentic back home, not without dipping into my college account."

The Master of the Castle inclined his head politely. "Take them if you so wish. I have no further need of them."

"Woo! Thank you!" Vicky headed for the doorway they'd used before. Grinning, Amy followed. She'd been wondering how to ask that very question herself, but having Vicky do it for her worked as well.

<><>​

Glory Girl

Wearing her ordinary clothes once more and carrying the medieval armour in the suspiciously convenient holdall that had been on the bed when she entered the room, Vicky swooped out of Snek's wriggle-hole. Not altogether to her surprise, she found herself hovering above the same rooftop they'd left from, several hours before. Crystal followed, while the others walked through like normal people, even Eric and Aunt Sarah.

Once they were on the other side, Twilight and the other two hearth-dragons took flight, with Twilight chirping authoritatively to them as they flew in circles around Vicky and Crystal. The weird thing was, against the backdrop of Snek's world or the Master's Castle, they had looked … normal. Like they belonged. However, here in Brockton Bay they looked amazingly exotic.

"So, Uncle Mark, what are you calling your guy, anyway?" asked Eric as he stepped through. "Flare? Because he kind of looks like a flare."

"No." Vicky's father looked proudly up at his hearth-dragon, who at that moment was pulling a tight loop around a startled sparrow. "I'm calling him Snap."

Amy slowly turned to stare at him, and even Vicky's mom blinked a couple of times in surprise. The reactions were understandable: Mark Dallon rarely, if ever, made 'dad' jokes. Vicky herself felt like face-palming. "Because he's a dragon, right? Snap the dragon? Snapdragon?"

"Well, not only that." He looked quite pleased with himself. "He also likes taking photos. Snapshots."

"Oh, god." This time Amy did face-palm, while Twilight let out a squawk of amusement. "Double-barrelled dad jokes? Really?"

"I don't see anything wrong with it," Neil observed, a grin lurking on his lips. "Seems like a perfectly good name to me."

Snek chose this moment to extrude his head from the still-extant portal into his world. "Ssnek thinkss Ssnap iss a good name too, big Neil."

"You would, both of you." Aunt Sarah rolled her eyes expressively, then sighed. "Fine, I suppose there are worse names out there. And thank you, Snek, for all your help. We had a really good time."

"Ssnek had good time too, happy blonde lady. Come back and play with dragonss again?" The hopeful note in his voice was unmistakeable.

She chuckled and hugged him around his immense neck. "Of course we will, Snek. The next time, we might even stay a bit longer."

"Ssnek likess that idea." His perpetual smile widened noticeably. "Ssnek musst go and help people. Will ssee you later."

"Have fun, Snek." Sarah stood back as another portal formed ahead of Snek, and he wriggled from one into the other. As soon as both had closed, she looked around at her extended family. "Okay, we've still got daylight hours to burn. I vote we go home, put the clothing away, decompress a little, then maybe go out on patrol later once the dragons have settled in."

"Um, wait a minute," Eric objected. "You're not seriously thinking about taking them on patrol with us, are you? Villains are assholes! And bad guys carry guns! That's just asking for them to get hurt!"

Amy snorted. "I suspect hearth-dragons are more versatile than you think they are. Yeah, they're small and cute, but they're not stupid. Are you?" she asked, as Twilight came in for a landing on her upraised forearm, purplish-black wings spread wide. "No, you're not."

Twilight squawked in agreement then, to Vicky's amusement, turned and stuck a bright-red tongue out at Eric.

Carol nodded. "I think so too. Plus, if the Master of the Castle was worried about them getting hurt, he would've said something."

"Then it's agreed?" asked Neil. "Home, rest and relax while the dragons explore, then patrol."

Mark held out his hand and Snap landed on it, then hopped onto his shoulder. "Sounds good to me."

<><>​

Panacea

The weirdest part about not being the only member of her family with a hearth-dragon was … well, Carol. Amy was used to dealing with emotional distance from her foster mother, as well as a general snappish attitude. Most of the time, she had no idea how Carol came to the opinions she held, so she just maintained a safe distance and didn't initiate any interactions except when necessary.

Now, since the advent of Argent, it was so thoroughly different that she lacked the words to adequately describe it. Carol's bond with the little dragon was still maturing, but Amy could already follow her emotional journey, just as Carol could follow hers. And just as how merely being with Twilight had lifted Amy out of her funk (and was keeping her in a good headspace), Argent was helping smooth the rougher edges of Carol's personality.

It wasn't that Carol was a different person now. Amy just felt that parts of her that rarely got seen were being gently urged forward into the light of day. It wasn't a huge change, but it carried with it deep and abiding ramifications. Aunt Sarah had once alluded to shared traumatic experiences then never mentioned them again; Amy suspected that Carol was on the way to becoming the person she would've been without the scars from that period of her life.

While Snap wasn't as snuggly and overtly affectionate as Twilight and Argent, he was still companionable in his own way, and it was working. Mark was definitely showing signs of being more upbeat and outgoing, though he was even less advanced in the bonding process than Carol. The tantalising glimpses Amy had of his emotional makeup were optimistic; through his eyes, the world was no longer as grey and lifeless as it had once been.

As Amy costumed up, she found herself humming softly. She realised she was actually looking forward to going out on patrol with the rest of the team, instead of just being resigned to it. For a moment, she looked at the gown that she'd acquired in Snek's world, hanging in the closet (and she was absolutely going to be wearing it to school, first chance she got) and considered wearing it instead of her regular costume, then thought better of the idea. New Wave was New Wave, and they didn't want to confuse the public by changing their look.

After a moment, however, she took the intricately braided belt with the long sharp dagger, and buckled it around her waist where she could get to it easily. Dyed (or created) with Twilight's colours, it provided a nice contrast to the red and white of the rest of her costume. Then she pushed back her hood and pulled down her scarf; if she was going out and about, she was going to do it loud and proud.

"Isn't that right, Twilight?" she asked out loud. The hearth-dragon, who had been perched on the dresser mirror watching the costuming process with apparent fascination, chirped in agreement. With a hop and a flutter of wings, she landed on Amy's shoulder, then furled her wings.

Amy looked at the image the pair of them made in the mirror. The costume was familiar, but between the belted dagger and the hearth-dragon riding her shoulder, she looked different. Improved, somehow. Definitely someone to be taken seriously.

Opening the door, she stepped out into the corridor. Let's go do some good.

<><>​

Larry Peterson, Criminal

Since the giant fucking snake had eaten Lung and handed Kaiser and the rest of the Empire Eighty-Eight over to the PRT, life as an independent criminal in Brockton Bay had become easier in a couple of ways and harder in a few more. On the upside, he didn't have to pledge allegiance to someone who could gut him or rip his head off if they decided he wasn't playing ball the way they wanted him to. Likewise, he didn't have to hand over a bunch of his take to some guy in a mask just so he could keep operating in their territory.

On the downside, there was still the problem of a giant fucking snake popping up occasionally in the city. The big-name supervillains were all gone, and even the smaller fry were keeping their heads down or quietly vacating when and where they could. Larry knew of a safe-cracker—no powers, just talent—who'd been quietly exercising his trade when the snake had looked over his shoulder and politely asked what he was doing. The experience had apparently been enough for the guy to swear off cracking safes for life. Also, to need an urgent change of underwear.

Still, a man had to make a (dis)honest living. The word was out that the Dockworkers were hiring again—with the drop in crime, the economy was picking up—but as far as Larry was concerned, stealing shit and mugging idiots was a more efficient way of making a quick buck. After all, the snake couldn't be everywhere.

Which was why he and his buddies were lurking near a bar in the Docks area. It had been noticed that the snake showed up much more reliably to crimes involving women and kids, and the number of rug-rats in a bar at this time of night was likely to be close to zero. As for chicks, so long as they didn't actually pull out a gun and start blasting, him and his guys would be totally hands-off.

From the sounds of laughter and revelry inside, it sounded like the bar was doing a good trade. This meant lots of beer-soaked dollars crossing the counter and ending up in the cash registers. Larry didn't give a good goddamn about where his money had been before it ended up in his pocket, and cash that smelled of beer spent just as good as cash that smelled of perfume.

Likewise with the chick thing, the snake seemed to crack down more on people killing other people—well, to be honest, it seemed to eat those people more often than not—so he'd told his guys to go easy on the skull-cracking and the shanking. Threats worked just as well, and didn't draw nearly as much attention from hat-wearing scaly abominations of nature. Life on the underbelly of society was every bit as much of a jungle as the depths of the Congo or the Amazon rainforest, and the rats that scuttled and scavenged and fought each other for scraps were learning to adapt and evolve to the new situation.

The alleyway was dark, but he'd scouted it out earlier (while Larry had never actually heard of the classic 'proper preparation' saying, he would've agreed with it wholeheartedly) so he knew what was there as he led the guys down it. In his hand was a pry-bar for getting through the back door of the bar; tucked into the back of his pants was a .38 Special, because waving a gun around often got more results than waving a knife around. While he had no intention of shooting anyone, it was loaded, because what fucking idiot carries an unloaded gun?

The plan was simple: wait until the bar was just clearing out, then bust open the back door, bum-rush anyone who came to see what was going on, and clear out the cash registers. Larry and his boys were all wearing balaclavas and he'd made sure any tattoos or scars were covered up. Nobody was unusually tall or short, skinny or fat, wimpy or bulked-out.

Each of them had visited the bar separately over the last week, had a drink, passed the time, then left again, just to make sure they knew the layout. None were wearing the same clothing that they'd had on then. They were as anonymous a crew as he could've assembled.

The three-quarter moon was just starting to dip toward the west when his phone vibrated silently with the text message he'd been waiting for. People were starting to leave the bar, in emptying-out-for-the-night numbers. He communicated this to the others in a whisper, then waited a little longer for Joey to sneak around from the front of the bar to the back without being seen by those inside.

When his scout finally arrived, he took a deep breath. Alright. Time to get rich. Stepping up to the back door, he set the pry-bar into place, braced himself, and heaved. There was a distinct crack as wood began to split.

"Finally," said a voice from behind and above him. It was female, teenage, and laden with satisfaction. "Watching you idiots—"

Larry didn't wait to hear what the rest of the monologue sounded like. A flying teenage girl meant either Laserdream or Glory Girl … which meant New Wave … which meant trouble. Even if the laser chick or the Alexandria package were on their own, they had sufficient throw weight to make taking them on a really fucking bad idea.

And even if they hadn't been all that, it was still a bad idea. For adults, either capes or otherwise, fighting cape kids was a losing proposition no matter which way you looked at it. If you won, you just beat up on a kid. Congratulations, asshole, now you've gotten the attention of the adult capes. And if you lost, then you just got beaten by a kid, and nobody respects you.

But as it happened, Glory Girl could literally punch someone through a brick wall—Larry knew someone who'd seen her do it to Hookwolf once—and Laserdream could throw up a force field and zorch her opponent with lasers, all at the same time. Unfair as fuck, but that was capes all over. So the main reason they scattered wasn't the embarrassment factor, but the very real fear of having cars thrown at their heads or being zapped by lasers strong enough to cut said cars in half.

Larry considered himself smarter than the average mook; he was the one who'd gotten them together, right? So while the others bolted in all directions, clattering and banging down the alleyways, he dived into the nearest patch of shadow and went dead still. Once the heroes pursued his crew out of sight, all he had to do was walk away casually and he was home free.

A few moments later, two more New Wave heroes came strolling up the alleyway, chatting as casually as if they were doing a foot patrol of the Boardwalk. Larry recognised Brandish and Flashbang, though there were a couple of weird things about them. For one, each hero had a little tiny dragon-like creature perching on their shoulder. Brandish's was silver, while Flashbang's was kind of orange-pink. They weren't models, unless they were some kind of Tinker animatronic bullshit, because they were looking around with their wings spread slightly.

The other thing Larry noticed was that Brandish's energy blade (nobody fucked with that thing even once, let alone twice) was a sparkling silver, not gold like every time he'd seen it on the news. Also, either Flashbang was extra lit up by it, or he was glowing slightly.

In any case, Larry wasn't about to try to take them on, either individually or both at the same time; they were even scarier than the kids on the team.

"… saw that eight-foot vertical jump you made, by the way," Flashbang commented. "Very impressive."

"Well, I wasn't about to let him get away, and the dumpster was blocking the way through." Brandish shrugged. "So, I jumped over. No big deal."

"I'm actually kind of impressed that you didn't just cut it in half." His tone was gently joking. "I've seen you do that before."

"I wasn't an Olympic high jumper before," she retorted, though her grin matched his tone. Then she stopped and pointed directly at where Larry lurked in the darkness. "Huh. We missed one."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Working on blind instinct, Larry reached for the pistol in his waistband … then he stopped, because something very sharp was pricking his wrist. He turned his head without moving any other part of his body and watched as someone faded in out of nowhere. Belatedly, in the light generated by the other two heroes, he recognised her as Panacea, holding a wickedly-pointed blade at an angle that would skewer his wrist if he tried to pull the gun.

"Uh, uh, uh," she cautioned, and grabbed his wrist with her other hand. "Bad boys don't get to play with guns." He had just enough time to see that she also had a dragon on her shoulder, coloured a deep purple-black that blended perfectly with the shadows, before her power took hold and he fell head-first into darkness.

<><>​

Panacea

"'Bad boys don't get to play with guns'? Really?" Mark shook his head as Carol effortlessly slung the unconscious would-be thief over her shoulder. "We've seriously got to work on your one-liners."

"So I was rushed. Sue me." Amy rolled her eyes and re-sheathed her dagger. "So, how'd everyone else go?"

"Oh, they're all rounded up, except this one," Mark assured her. "We were just coming back to pick you up. How long was he hiding there?"

"He dived in there as soon as Vicky made her announcement. I didn't want to have to drag him anywhere, so I was waiting for you guys to get back before I dropped him." Amy reached up and stroked Twilight, who leaned into the caress. "I take it Argent and Snap had fun?"

"I think that's a given." Carol started off down the alley, not at all burdened by the grown man she was carrying. Argent landed on top of him, apparently happy with her new perch.

"She had fun too," confided Mark. "Punched one of them so hard he flew ten feet through the air. Riley wasn't kidding when she said she'd be amped up when the moon's in the sky. Meanwhile, Snap lets me glow, or even light up a whole area if I want to." He gestured to a patch of particularly dense shadow, and it brightened to near-daylight like the sun had risen.

"Cool." Amy grinned. Hearth-dragons were fun to have around and useful for crime-fighting.

I could totally get used to this.



End of Part Twenty-Eight

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Twenty-Nine: Dragon Fever

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

■​

Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.
You are currently logged in, SilentWhispers
You are viewing:
• Threads you have replied to
• AND Threads that have new replies
• OR private message conversations with new replies
• Thread OP is displayed.
• Ten posts per page
• Last ten messages in private message history.
• Threads and private messages are ordered chronologically.

■​

♦ Topic: A Funny Thing Happened at the Bar Last Night
In: Boards ► United States ► Northeastern US ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Shenanigans

Brocktonite03 (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)
Posted On Jun 12th 2011:
Me and a few of my buddies went drinking down on the docks last night. Yes, technically I was buzzed by the end of the night, but I sure as hell wasn't so sloshed I was seeing things. I was waiting for my better half to come pick me up, when a couple of guys wearing all black plus balaclavas came running out of the alley alongside the bar. They stopped real fast when Manpower (yeah, THAT Manpower) jumped off the roof of the building next door and landed in front of them.
The dumbasses were looking to knock over the bar and make off with the night's takings.
Then three more guys came out of the alley, and this time it was Brandish who stopped them. Swear to God, hand on heart, I was front and center for a New Wave takedown. It was glorious!
One guy tried to duck past Brandish, and I thought for sure she was gonna skewer him with her energy blade thing (I always thought that was supposed to be gold, not silver. Anyway) but she didn't. Nope, she hauled off and slugged him so hard in the jaw that his feet left the ground and he flew back about ten feet. I mean, when did Brandish get a Brute rating?
And then, Flashbang appeared. *Everyone* saw Flashbang. He was, like, *glowing* like someone was shining a floodlight on him. And he had a thing on his shoulder that looked like ... well, like a little tiny dragon, all orange and gold like a sunrise. And Brandish had a silver one hovering over her head.
I swear, I had a few drinks inside me, but I wasn't that drunk. I know what I saw. Here's some [footage] I took.
When the hell did New Wave get pet dragons?

(Showing page 1 of 273)

►BrickFrog
Replied On Jun 12th 2011:
That can't be real.
Can it?

►GstringGirl
Replied On Jun 12th 2011:
They do look very pretty.
Can haz pet dragon?

►Clockblocker (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Jun 12th 2011:
Okay, thanks a bunch for that. Vista just saw the footage someone put online and her excited squeal rattled ALL the windows (and we're underground).

►Vista (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Jun 12th 2011:
Don't care. Those dragons are too cute!

►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Jun 12th 2011:
I'm with BrickFrog. They can't be real. Or at least, they're not natural. All vertebrate life on Earth goes on a quadripedal body pattern. Those 'dragons' have four limbs plus two wings, and the wings are too small to fly properly with at that size. Something's hinky. I call shenanigans.

►Vista (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)
Replied On Jun 12th 2011:
Maybe you didn't hear me the first time. Don't care. Dragons!

►TheRealBrandish (Verified Cape) (Cape Wife) (New Wave Member)
Replied On Jun 12th 2011:
Alright, time for an official announcement.
Yesterday, New Wave responded to an invitation from Snek to visit his world. We traveled there, and encountered not only [actual] [dragons] but smaller versions, called 'hearth-dragons'. As you can see, they are [cute] and [inquisitive] and can bond with people, to the mutual benefit of both parties.
Three hearth-dragons came back with us to Earth Bet. Mine is called [Argent], Flashbang's is called [Snap], and Panacea's is called [Twilight].
I will stress: hearth-dragons are not animals, and they are most assuredly not stupid. Although they are from a world where mythology trumps over science, they are thoroughly enjoying their new home (and can go back to visit at any time if they wish, with Snek's assistance).
Panacea has assured me that they carry no dangerous bacteria or viruses, and nothing we have will affect them. They are very playful and outgoing, and enjoy meeting new people. We will even be taking them on patrol with us to meet the public.
Again: they are not animals, they are not dangerous, they are not pets, and they are here willingly. Come and say hi sometime.

►Bagrat (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)
Replied On Jun 12th 2011:
Well ... crap.
I was just scouring the footage frame by frame to see if I could spot the trickery when Brandish's post dropped.
Real dragons. Actual real dragons. And the scale ...
Okay, yeah, the internet wins today. I'm done.

►XxVoid_CowboyxX
Replied On Jun 12th 2011:
Um.
So ... I was right, but I was wrong?
Not from Earth Bet, but actual dragons.
Four limbs, check. Wings, check. Able to fly with wings that are too small, check. Actual. Freaking. Dragons.
Those big ones are BIG.
Ahahaha wow.
And Vista's right, the little ones are too cute. Especially the orange one that posed for the camera (how did you get it to do that, anyway?)
So, um, how does one go about acquiring an invite from Snek to visit his world?
Asking for a friend.

​

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 271, 272, 273

■

<><>​

Director Emily Piggot, PRT ENE

"Report."

Emily leaned back in her chair and watched as Psyche, once known as Tattletale, gathered her thoughts. At least part of that was an act, Emily figured, but it didn't bother her. The girl had been instrumental in Coil's downfall, as well as the brief capture of the Travellers before they vanished from her holding cells (and Earth Bet), so she was welcome to her little quirks.

As far as Emily knew, the rest of the Undersiders had left town, which was also perfectly fine with her. They'd never been overly troublesome, but at some point they would have earned a spot on the PRT's radar. Letting some other city deal with them (minus their Thinker) was slightly less problematic than making room for them in the holding cells.

After Coil's capture, Psyche had been downright cooperative when it came to showing Armsmaster where the rest of Coil's caches were, as well as the safety codes on his computer in the base. It was true that she had been a supervillain, but she was also a known friend of Snek's, so Emily was willing to bend the rules more than a little to accommodate her as a probationary Ward. Psyche seemed willing to keep her nose clean (maybe having Snek as a friend was contingent on not breaking the rules?) so everyone got what they wanted.

Emily liked win-win situations; she encountered them rarely enough that she truly appreciated them when they did show up.

"So, I've been through all the footage and pictures of these 'hearth-dragons', as they call 'em," Psyche began. "Armsmaster rated it all one hundred percent genuine, per Dragon. It's what they say it is. Actual, smart little critters that look like someone took fantasy dragons and applied a strong layer of cuteness to them. The mention of 'bonding' suggests that there's some kind of emotional link after a while, stronger than you get with an ordinary pet."

Emily had never had a pet of any description, but she'd seen how some people got with them. "Like a Master effect?" she ventured, sitting forward again.

Psyche frowned. "Brandish's phrasing indicates that there's something going on. She's more kindly disposed toward them than I'd expect her to be. But neither is she advocating that everyone get one and join the cult of the hearth-dragon. Not that she needs to encourage anyone: a full two-thirds of the comments in that thread are about how adorable they look."

This is where they got down to the nitty-gritty. "Are hearth-dragons a threat?"

"On balance … I don't think so." Psyche no doubt saw Emily's sour expression, which didn't need esoteric Thinker powers to decipher. "If you'll allow me to present my reasoning?"

"Please do." Emily tried not to be curt but when she asked a question, she expected a definitive answer, especially if it was about whether something was a threat.

Psyche cleared her throat. "First: they're from Snek's world. I personally trust Snek, without reservation. I doubt very much that he or his Master would allow a potentially dangerous species to come through into Earth Bet. Second: out of eight members, only three of New Wave have hearth-dragons, and the rest of them don't seem to have a problem with that. Third: Brandish has always been prickly and hard to deal with. This latest post suggests that she's lightened up a little, without totally changing her personality. I'm wondering if the 'mutual benefit' aspect involves enabling the human part of the bond to get rid of toxic mental baggage, so they just plain become a nicer person."

Emily eyed Psyche suspiciously, but neither by intonation nor flick of eye did the girl suggest that she might be thinking Emily could do with a hearth-dragon of her own. She would've had to possess superhuman willpower to not to be doing that exact thing, but as long as she didn't show it, Emily didn't have to take notice of it. Besides, as Psyche had pointed out, they were very cute, and apparently quite personable.

"I see." She rubbed her chin. "Is there anything else you've gleaned about them?"

"Actually, yes." Psyche pulled out her phone and showed Emily a series of photos, portraying dragons—large and small—in front of a landscape that could've come out of any fantasy movie, finishing up with a close-up of one that looked like the gold-and-salmon one, which had been perched on Flashbang's shoulder.

Emily examined them closely. All the images were nicely framed, and she'd actually seen a couple of them before, but apart from the fact that they portrayed creatures utterly unknown to science, she could see nothing unremarkable about them. "What am I looking for?"

Psyche flicked through to the last one. "According to Flashbang, these pictures were all taken by this one, Snap. Not only are they highly empathetic, but they're also capable of learning to use technology. Flashbang has actually started a photo-blog for Snap, and it's picking up followers by the hour."

"Let me see those again." Emily looked closely at the images as Psyche scrolled through them once more. Her first impression had not been amiss: the pictures were quite nice. She'd taken worse ones herself. "Tell me, is this a good thing or a bad thing?"

Once again, Psyche looked undecided. "Well, it's definitely a thing. Hearth-dragons aren't as smart as humans … well, not in the same way that humans are, anyway. They'd probably get bored with complicated math and they're effectively non-verbal, but their emotional intelligence is far higher than ours and they do have forepaws that can be used as hands."

Emily pursed her lips, looking over the photos again. She got bored with complicated math, too; the implication that being able to form whole sentences was the only thing that made her superior to hearth-dragons didn't exactly fill her with joy. "Give me the bottom line, here."

"Overall, I think they're a good thing." Psyche took a deep breath and side-eyed Emily. "They're smart and affectionate, and they like people. If they can take a cape like Brandish and smooth off some of her sharper edges, then imagine the impact worldwide if the cape aggression index was turned downward even by ten percent."

While Emily could imagine it, and liked what she saw, it seemed too good to be true. "What if it's an idiosyncratic reaction? We don't know that it's a regular thing … do we?"

"Well, Flashbang suffers from clinical depression. During that fight, he stood taller and took more initiative than he has in years. I think proximity to Snap actually helps him mentally and emotionally, just like Argent helps Brandish." Psyche spread her hands. "It's just two data points, but they're both positive."

"Last question." Looking across her desk at Psyche, Emily tilted her head. "If you were given the opportunity to form a bond with a hearth-dragon, would you?"

From the way the girl blinked in surprise, this was the first question she hadn't anticipated ahead of time. "Um … yeah, actually, I think I would. I know I've got baggage, and cuddle therapy with a cute little dragon looks a lot more attractive than all the other ways to get past it."

"Understood. Thank you for your report. Dismissed."

As the door closed behind Psyche, Emily leaned back in her chair once more, thinking hard. The report and subsequent discussion had been illuminating; while she still wasn't one hundred percent set on her course, she could see the way forward more clearly now.

Let's just hope it doesn't blow up in my face.

<><>​

Garotte

Sveta looked wistfully at the cute little dragons in the photo-blog again. The picture of Panacea cuddling the dark purple one was almost too cute for words, and she couldn't even hate the healer for having something she didn't. Panacea's expression while holding Twilight was that of someone who'd found the missing piece in their life, and Sveta could never begrudge someone of that kind of happiness.

I wish I could find it myself.

Oh, who am I kidding? If I had someone in my life, or even a hearth-dragon, my tentacles would only crush them, and then I'd have nothing and nobody again.

As far as she could tell, hearth-dragons were extremely tactile. They enjoyed being next to the people they were bonded to, either perched on their shoulders or snuggled up to them in some fashion. This would be fatal for any hearth-dragon in her vicinity, because her tentacles were also extremely tactile in nature, in that they would seek out and crush any strange object within their range.

Her wistful comment online came back to haunt her now. She had even less chance to 'haz' a hearth-dragon than every other person who had responded to the post, by many orders of magnitude. Despair welled up in her heart: not just the angst of someone who will never achieve a coveted goal (and who never even had a chance at it) but the bone-deep knowledge (if she'd had bones) that nothing else of that nature would ever come her way. It was just the way things were.

I'm why I can't have good things. Yay for me.

The words were bitter on her tongue, even though she didn't speak them out loud. She began to silently cry, hating that she couldn't even get through something like this without being so weak. Black bile, she knew, was oozing out through her tear ducts, which did nothing to improve matters in the slightest.

I just wish someone would save me from this shit like Snek saved all those people in Savannah.

Drenched in misery, locked into her own private world of unhappiness within the very real secure cell, she only became aware that something had changed when some of her tentacles stirred.

"Hello, tentacle girl," a hissing voice came from behind her. "Ssnek iss here to ssave you."

What? Startled, she spun around, to see a large portal interrupting a section of the wall opposite. Protruding from the portal was the now-familiar head of the world's best-known snake. Against all odds, he was smiling at her.

"No!" she gasped. "You can't be here! You've got to get away!"

Snek didn't move from the spot. "Tentacle girl called for help," he said patiently, even as her tentacles struck and wrapped around his head. "Ssnek hass come to help. Doess tentacle girl want to be ssaved?"

Sveta stared. He was much larger than anyone her tentacles had maimed or killed before, but that shouldn't be an issue. The tendrils which were the bane of her life were strong enough to bend steel in their implacable grasp. But although they were wrapped around his head and neck and she could tell that they were trying very hard to squeeze the life out of him, he didn't seem to be aware of their efforts. Most incongruously, the stylish fedora that adorned the middle of his broad head wasn't even being crushed or dented by the two tentacles that lay over the top of it.

"I …" she began, aware that he'd asked the question and not wanting to come across as rude by failing to answer in good time. (Though 'rude' really wasn't a good descriptor for it, when her treacherous body was simultaneously attempting to murder him). "Can you save me? If you take me out of here, then my tentacles will just start killing people again." Perhaps the worst part of it was when she got hungry and her tentacles shoved anything and everything with nutritional value at her mouth; if she'd just been killing people, that veered hard into nightmare territory really quickly.

"Ssnek will not let that happen, tentacle girl." The gigantic serpent maintained the same imperturbable air and polite tone that he had since he'd intruded on her cell. "Ssnek will take tentacle girl to Masster. He will fixx. Masster knowss how to fixx anything."

Reading online, Sveta had encountered hints of Snek's Master, but knew absolutely nothing beyond that. Whoever or whatever this Master might be, she decided that if they could fix her problems, then they'd have to be a downright miracle worker.

On second thought, they had theoretically been behind Snek chowing down on both Leviathan and the Simurgh, and if that didn't count as a miracle, there wasn't much that did.

"Okay," she decided. Screw it, it's not like my life can get any worse than this. "Go ahead. Just keep me far enough away from him that I don't hurt him, alright?"

"Ssnek doess not believe that will be a problem." And then the gigantic snake did the impossible … again. She hadn't really registered that he was talking despite the multitude of tentacles binding his jaws shut, but now he just … opened them. Her tentacles were forced to let go, flailing wildly as even their prodigious strength was overcome with ridiculous ease.

From out of his mouth emerged a long pink tongue; unlike what she'd heard about ordinary snakes, this one subdivided several times, making it into a serviceable analogue to a hand. As the branches of the tongue closed around her head and a large bunch of her tentacles, she had a sudden thought: oh hey, so that's what it's like for other people. Her tentacles struggled against the grasp, but in total vain. (That was also something she'd been on the other side of, far too many times).

And then she was drawn irresistibly into that gaping maw, past the extremely impressive teeth, and into the gullet. This part of the experience was new; while her tentacles had killed many people, they'd never forced her to eat anyone alive (not that she was exactly capable of it, of course).

In the blackness of Snek's throat, she couldn't see a thing. But all the same, she somehow managed to register being shoved sideways into a space that was blacker than black. Within that space, there was no space. There was no time. There was nothing, not even her—

<><>​

The Magician's Apprentice

"Ssnek hass brought tentacle girl to be fixxed, Masster." Snek beamed proudly.

Riley knew he liked helping people, and there was a ton of people on Earth Bet who needed helping at any hour of night or day. But at the same time, he always seemed to locate the ones for whom a taxi ride home and a loan to tide them over until payday just wouldn't cover things. He was good at finding the interesting cases, the ones that occasionally caused the boss to raise one shaggy eyebrow.

Riley wasn't sure who 'tentacle girl' referred to, but it promised to be one of the good ones. She wondered if it was one of her old victims (she couldn't actually remember giving anyone tentacles, but that didn't mean she hadn't). If it was, she was going to make a point of apologising profusely after the person had all their bits and pieces back in the right order.

"So I see, Snek." The boss made a few gestures, settling a protective sphere in place. "Kindly place her in there, please."

"Yess, Masster." Snek's impressively agile tongue dipped back into his mouth and retrieved what looked like a tangled bundle of ropes from what he called his 'no-eat placce', depositing it deftly into the protective sphere. It woke up half a second too late—spending time in that weird space usually had that effect—and lashed out at the sphere, to no good effect. In the middle of it all was an anxious female face with the unmistakeable inverted omega of Cauldron tattooed on one cheekbone.

Riley blinked in mildly surprised recognition. "Huh, that's Garrotte. Case fifty-three. Vial situation, like Noelle and her friends were, and Paige." I should've known that's what Snek meant by 'tentacle girl'.

"Indeed," the boss observed. "The evil that men do to one another in the name of good is an abyss without end. This will be an interesting one for the collection."

"What are we gonna do for her body?" asked Riley, because she was pretty sure the boss wasn't going to leave Garotte as just a disembodied face. Knowing what was coming next, she headed over to the shelf to collect the extraction tongs and an appropriately enchanted jar.

"I believe a type-three construct body will suffice at first," he mused, accepting the tools with a nod of thanks. "Once Ms Sveta has had a chance to come to terms with her new situation, she will then be able to make the final choice for herself."

"Gotcha." Riley headed off to grab one of the type threes. Technically, she knew how the procedure went to stuff someone's mind into one of these, but she'd never actually seen it done (and was pretty damn sure she wasn't up to the job herself). But the boss totally had it in hand.

This was gonna be educational, the best kind of fun.



End of Part Twenty-Nine

 

[Ack]

Snek is a Good Boy

Part Thirty: Sveta

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by @Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

Garotte

Sveta swam through odd dreams, like a tropical fish in an unlikely aquarium. Vistas of places she'd never been, populated with people she'd never met, came and went around her. A monster bigger than the sun tried to eat the world, but a burst of black lightning shattered it into a thousand fragments then dissolved the pieces into glowing ash.

Her return to consciousness had much the same flavour of unreality. When she finally surfaced into the light, there was no sensation of eyelids opening, merely going from not seeing her surroundings to seeing them. A transition, like flipping a light switch.

Neither was she breathing, she noticed after a few seconds. Her mouth opened and she gulped in air, wondering what had gone wrong with her body. Then she noticed that she actually had a body, which derailed her thought processes yet again. It was lying down on a surface that was minimally padded: either a low bench or a high bed.

Finally, she registered the people standing on either side of her. One was a tweenage girl wearing brass-bound goggles pushed up on her forehead, with blonde hair tied back in a businesslike ponytail.

The other was a whole different kettle of lobsters; tall, with a commanding attitude, he had greying hair and a long beard, along with a tall pointed hat, robes and a gnarled wooden staff that seemed to be standing alongside him of its own accord. Sveta had never met Myrddin, but from news footage and publicity photos, the leader of the Chicago branch of the Protectorate seemed to carry off the 'wizard' theme pretty well.

This guy killed it.

When he spoke, his voice was deep and resonant. "Good evening, Sveta of another Earth beyond Bet. I am the Master of the Castle and while you are my guest, you have nothing to fear. How do you feel?"

"Um." Sveta realised that she hadn't exhaled until she spoke. It was almost like she didn't have to breathe. "I feel … fine, actually." Sitting up, she noted that she was wearing a knee-length tunic made of off-white linen. Reaching up, she felt the top of her head and discovered that she was entirely bald. Her skin felt funny, too. Then she looked at her hand and received the next major shock. The fingers bore no nails and the skin itself looked more like carved grain-free wood, even though it flexed and moved as fluidly as any hand should. "What happened to my hand? What happened to me?"

"Okay, from the top," the blonde girl began. "Snek brought you here. You remember that bit? Oh, by the way, my name's Riley. Hi."

As Sveta turned to look at her, memory started to trickle back. She recalled being captured by the gigantic snake's multibranched tongue, then stuffed into a hole inside its throat before everything went away. "Snek, I remember. Not much after."

Riley nodded, as though she'd been fully expecting that. "Well, when you got here, your body wasn't really good for much. It was mostly taken over by an interdimensional parasite that just used you as a vehicle to kill people. So the boss there pulled out the parasite and stored it away where it can't hurt anyone, then we decanted you into a construct body to wake up in, so we could have a talk without all those irritating murder-tentacles trying to rip us to pieces. Any questions?"

Sveta had many, but they were mainly along the lines of 'you did what?' rather than anything constructive. The explanation was basically one she'd expect from a Tinker, but from what she was seeing around her, this was no Tinker lab that she'd ever heard of. Also, the Master of the Castle (she had absolutely heard the capitals slotting into place as he spoke), aka 'the boss', seemed to be closely associated with Snek, which put him way above every other Tinker everywhere.

"Ah … just a couple," she said carefully, deciding to stick with the most pressing ones. "What's a construct body? I mean, what do I need to know about it? And where's my old body? Am I … am I dead?"

"You are alive, within the construct body," the Master of the Castle reassured her. "Your former vessel is in suspension, neither living nor dead. The choice for that will come when we end the suspension. Should you wish to be returned to it, that can be achieved. However, even with the parasite removed, it will be a poor kind of existence. You may choose instead to remain within the construct body where you will require neither sustenance nor sleep, but neither will you be able to enjoy any but the most rudimentary of human pursuits. Alternately, I can generate a living body that suits your needs and place your soul-pattern within it. It is entirely your option."

She didn't want to ask the question, but it came out anyway. "Why are you doing all this for me? I've hurt people. I've killed people."

"I am aware," he replied with an austere smile. "But that is neither in your nature nor in your future. You presented an intriguing distraction, and I did not have a parasite of your precise type in my collection. Besides, Snek brought you to me, and I wish to encourage him to continue doing so."

"Oh." She wasn't quite sure how she felt about being described as an 'intriguing distraction', but it had to be better than being seen as a dangerous monster. It was definitely better than being a dangerous monster, by any stretch of the imagination. "So … what do I need to do?"

He raised one shaggy eyebrow. "You have two choices to make. The first is which body you will continue on with, and the second is which world you will do so in. I have already outlined your options for the first decision, and Riley will explain the options for the second decision. You may take as long as you wish to make up your mind. Let me know when you have done so."

The conversation clearly over, the Master of the Castle turned and put out his hand. His staff drifted sideways into it, and he strode away toward the centre of the enormous laboratory (or workshop; she couldn't tell the difference) in which she had found herself. She got the impression that he wasn't so much ignoring her as he was returning his focus to a larger task.

"Yeah, the boss is kinda like that," Riley commented, even though Sveta hadn't said anything. "Don't make the mistake of thinking he doesn't care, because he does, but what he cares about is bigger than you or me."

"I think I got that, yes." Sveta slid off the bed and stood up. While she hadn't performed that particular motion in a very long time, it seemed the construct body (whatever that actually meant) was capable of taking over and making sure she didn't fall flat on her face. "Where even is this place?"

The question was well founded. Within the cathedral-sized room, there was a multi-level series of retorts and flasks and other apparently-scientific apparatus, though she wasn't sure what the glowing crystals were about, or the glassware that was apparently hovering in midair. Along one wall was a series of shelves, populated in part by large bottles within which odd misty forms wafted from side to side. Another shelf set supported a number of internally-illuminated spherical objects; Sveta wasn't sure what they were, but she was equally certain that she didn't want to mess with them. Overhead, hanging there as though placed as an afterthought, was a taxidermized creature like a large crocodile with great multicoloured bat-like wings.

"Well, you're in the Castle, of course." Riley grinned at Sveta's sour expression. "This is the boss's world. Not Bet, or any of the ones that they've discovered. Basically, your average fantasy world, but without much in the way of weird humanoid races. We've got dragons though, so there's that."

Sveta nodded at the creature suspended from the roof-line above. "Yeah, I saw that already. So that thing's real, and not just an ornament of some kind?"

"Oh, that's a drake, not a true dragon." Riley spread her hands apart, somewhat farther than shoulder-width. "You've probably seen hearth-dragons on the news? Well, this is where they come from. True dragons are a whole lot bigger than drakes, and they're nice to hang out with. Drakes would just want to eat you."

"Ah." Sveta's head was starting to swim from all the new information she was taking on. "So, um, the Master of the Castle said there were different worlds I could choose from?"

"Right, right." Riley raised one finger. "There's Earth Bet. You probably know that the best. At least, the politics and language and stuff." Another finger raised. "Then there's this world. Relatively low-tech, but with quite a bit of magic to bridge the gap. We've got a solid awareness of hygiene and basic intelligent medical practice, so we don't have plagues decimating the population every other year, and infant and childbirth mortality is about what it is in first-world nations back on Bet."

Sveta peered at her suspiciously. "Wait. Are you not from here? I thought you were, but now you're giving me the idea that you're not."

"Oh, no." Riley chuckled and shook her head. "Born on Bet, but I got inconvenient powers and ended up in really bad company, until Snek rescued me. The boss cleared the shit out of my head but let me keep my powers, so I help him out wherever I can."

Sveta got the impression she was being deliberately obscure and thought about calling her out on it, but decided not to. "I see. So, is this a good world to live on?"

"So long as you're not addicted to takeout food." Riley grinned. "Or the internet. Jobs here are a lot more hands-on. No computers, no automation. Stuff gets made by artisans or by magic. We haven't had the Industrial Revolution here yet, and I doubt we ever will."

"Hmm." Sveta was still undecided. "What's the other options? Or are this world and Bet the only two I get?"

Riley shook her head. "Heck, no. There's also your original world. Now I know you don't actually remember it, but if you want, the boss can pull the cover off those memories. He hasn't done it already because apparently some of them are a bit traumatic and I suggested that we give you a bit of time to get your head settled before we gave you more stuff to worry about."

"Oh." The girl definitely had a point. "Um, while I'm thinking about it, is it possible for me to see some of these dragons? Because I only saw photos of the hearth-dragons online, and even then they looked like the cutest things ever."

"Heh, they're definitely cute." Riley hooked her head toward one of the doorways leading out of the room. "Follow me. We've asked them to stay outside while you were recovering so you didn't get distracted, but as soon as you come out with me, they'll know that's over. Word of warning: they're very sociable and very inquisitive."

"I'll take your word for it." Sveta wasn't sure what to expect as she followed Riley through a passageway that let out onto a large broad balcony. The first thing she registered after the brilliant blue sky, was just how high up they were. There was a town far down below at the foot of the mountain, and the buildings were tiny. Dragging her eyes up to the horizon, she felt as though she could see forever.

And that was when she saw her first dragon. Swooping through the air, some distance away, it was still huge. She could see the sun glinting off its wide-spread wings, and the draconic grin on its muzzle as it pulled a snap-roll then glided in for a landing on a broad ledge of rock, where others of its kind were already resting.

"Whoaaa …" she whispered, staring at the sight. They were immense, they were entirely outside her experience, but most of all, they were majestic. "That's amazing."

"Yeah, that's the Dragonmark," Riley confirmed. "They like to hang near the Castle and make sure nobody breaks the law in a really egregious way around here. Sometimes I go flying with them."

"Flying?" Sveta stared at Riley, then at the dragons. "You can fly with them?"

"Sure. They love showing off, and being told how pretty they are." Riley paused. "And here comes the onslaught. Brace yourself."

Sveta turned to look, just in time to see half a dozen hearth-dragons land on the balcony rail, staring at her with undisguised interest. More flew up and around her, their scales coloured all the hues of the rainbow and a few others besides, before they found their perches. Riley had two on her shoulders by the time they'd all settled.

Sveta could hear them chirping and squawking among themselves, but it didn't sound like random noise. "Are they talking to each other?"

"They're hella smart, and they understand most of what we say," Riley explained. "They're also really empathetic, so what you're hearing is about one-tenth of what they're saying."

"Oh. Oh, I see." Sveta paused, looking at the concentrated cuteness all around her. Her heart, or whatever passed for one in this artificial body, went out to them. "Can I … can I hold one?"

"If they don't mind, sure." Riley shrugged; this caused the ones perching on her shoulders to shift their weight and flare their wings slightly for balance, but they didn't otherwise move. One chirped reprovingly, and she reached up to stroke its neck, which it leaned into. "Pick one and say hi."

"Alright." Sveta found herself torn as she looked around. Some were red and gold, others were brilliant sky-blue or silver or green, but the one that caught her eye was the delicate blue-green of sea-foam, which she recalled from the few dreams that she'd had of her time before being Garotte. Holding out her hand, she looked into its—into her—eyes. "Hello. Aren't you a cutie?"

Letting out a definitive chirp that as much as said, 'why yes, I am a cutie, thank you for noticing', the hearth-dragon spread her wings and made it to Sveta's hand in a single wing-beat. Wonderingly, she brought the dragon close to her and stroked the wings with her other hand. The scales were silk-smooth to her touch; from the way the little dragon pushed her head up under Sveta's chin, she was enjoying the attention.

"Yes, yes, you guys are just as cute too." Riley was sitting on the balcony floor by now, giving skritches to all the hearth-dragons surrounding her. "Don't be jealous, you know how this goes."

Standing on the balcony in the warming sunlight, with chirping, frolicking hearth-dragons all around her while holding another one in her arms, and watching their vastly oversized cousins swoop and dive at each other in the distance, Sveta could have been excused for assuming she was still dreaming. But this had none of the detached quality of a dream. Every bit of it, from the rumbles of pleasure coming from the blue-green hearth-dragon she was cuddling, to the pure sharp clean smell of the air at this altitude, to the feel of the hearth-dragon's scales against her cheek, told her that it was reality.

For far too long, she had lived a nightmare, but now she had finally woken up.

<><>​

The Wizard's Apprentice

By the time Riley walked back into the boss's work room with Sveta (the blue-green hearth-dragon riding on her shoulder) Snek had woken from his nap and was helping move one of the larger pieces of equipment to where it was needed. No doubt the boss could levitate the stuff if he really needed to, but it was a good idea to limit the amount of unnecessary magic floating around. Besides, Snek enjoyed helping, and he was good at the brute-force stuff.

The boss looked around from what he was doing and nodded to the both of them. "You have made a decision?" he asked. He knew the answer, of course. The boss always knew what was going on. It was just polite to let people think they knew something he didn't.

"I think so, yes," Sveta said. She reached up without looking and stroked the hearth-dragon's neck. Riley grinned privately; she could pick out a bonding in progress from a hundred yards, and this one was definitely happening. "But before we do it, could I please see my old body, and what you took out of me? I think you called it a parasite?"

"Certainly. Riley, if you could fetch the bottle, please?"

"Sure thing, boss." Riley headed to the collections shelf and took down the latest enchanted bottle, then carried it over to the examination table and placed it there for Sveta's perusal. Within, the wispy form of the parasite drifted around, searching for a way out of its confinement. None of them had found one, and none ever would. Peering closely, Riley was almost certain she could see suggestions of the filmy tendrils that Sveta's original body yet sported.

"So this is … was … my power?" asked Sveta, staring into the bottle. "It took over my entire life, killed hundreds of people, but you've trapped it in a bottle like a laboratory specimen?"

"It is precisely that, for me." The boss's tone was matter-of-fact.

Sveta's teeth bared and she made a rude gesture toward the bottle. "Screw you," she said fiercely. "You made my life a living hell. See how you like being a prisoner."

The boss appeared not to notice, turning toward where Snek was returning with his burden. He gestured at a place next to the table. "Put it there, please, Snek."

"Yess, Masster." Riley knew that Snek's speech wasn't entirely dependent on his mouth being free, but it was still amusing to listen to him talk while placing a large brass-and-crystal container on the floor. A good three feet across, it contained the face-with-tendrils that had been Sveta's body for so long. Eyes closed and tendrils drifting gently in the fluid that kept it in stasis, the face looked at peace.

Sveta looked closely at it, the unblinking gaze of the construct body taking in every detail. "So, if I asked to be put back in that, I wouldn't have my powers, so … what would happen? I wouldn't be forced to kill people anymore?"

"You would not, that's true," the boss confirmed. "However, a good deal of your strength and durability was afforded you by the parasite infecting your body, mainly so that it could continue to inflict itself on others. You would be slow, soft and easily injured, and anyone could take revenge on you for the ills done to others in your previous life. Creating and maintaining a normal life for yourself would be difficult if not impossible."

"Okay, yeah, I got that." Sveta nodded to herself, as though she'd just marked off something she needed to do on an invisible clipboard. "So, what does giving me a new body involve?"

"Interestingly enough, you are not the first person from your world to require at least some work to become capable of existing within society." The boss turned to Snek. "Kindly fetch the other container, if you please."

"Yess, Masster." The gigantic snake slithered away.

Riley did her best to hide the grin on her face. She'd worked alongside the boss on this one and was justifiably proud of the results. While Sveta wasn't someone she'd victimised in the past, it was still a rush to be able to use her talents to fix someone who needed help in the worst way.

"And had you decided which world you were going to?" asked the boss while they were waiting.

"Riley said you could give me back my memories of where I originally came from," Sveta ventured. "Once I know about that, I'll know where I want to go."

"Indeed." The boss barely gestured, and his vocal command was no more than a muttered phrase, but Riley saw the magic flaring in her goggles. From the way Sveta's head came up, she was also aware of its effects for another reason altogether.

"Oh," she said softly. "Wow. Okay, yeah, I get it. I know where I want to go."

At this moment, Snek returned. The container was not unlike a coffin in size and shape, and indeed contained a body, but was made of the same brass and crystal as the smaller container. This time, the body was that of an adult woman, bearing Sveta's features along with short blonde hair. As with Sveta's original body, she drifted within the supporting fluid, timeless and preserved.

Again, Sveta stared through the crystalline pane at the features within. "And you made this for me … when?" she asked at last.

"Before you woke up," Riley explained. "It wasn't hard. A little bit of genetic material, a little bit of elbow grease, a little bit of magic, and voila."

Sveta shook her head slowly. "I never believed in magic until now, but I am seriously beginning to doubt that stance."

Riley grinned. "Probably a good idea. So, where do you think you would like to go?"

Taking a deep breath (even though the construct body didn't need air), Sveta looked at Riley and then at the boss. "Do you happen to have fishing villages on this world?"

The boss's smile was indulgent. "Many."

<><>​

A Coastal Fishing Village, Several Leagues Away

Karol bundled up the last of his fishing nets and stowed them away for later use. He shaded his eyes and looked out over the ocean, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the smile as he saw the last of the stragglers beating into harbour against the growing land breeze. "About time," he said out loud.

"We're suffering and you know it," his brother Bron said, hearkening back to an earlier argument. "We really need a third set of hands while we're out there. And not some lubber who doesn't know his starboard from a sheetbend."

"Can't make a paddle from a piece of paper," Karol reminded him. "Help is hard to find all over." He went to say something else, but the look on Bron's face set him aback. His brother, hard to faze at the best of times, was staring open-mouthed at something behind Karol.

"Dragon," croaked Bron.

Karol turned, half-expecting a prank, but indeed it was a dragon. With powerful wing-beats, it was coming in for a landing on the patch of bare ground where the fishing boats were usually hauled up onto in order to avoid the worst of the winter storms. He'd seen them before, but high up and going somewhere else; this close, and on the ground, it was astonishingly large. Just its head was bigger than his entire fishing boat.

Once it landed, it lowered its head close to the ground. With a growing sense of unreality, Karol watched a slender woman slide down to the ground, then give the immense creature a hug, although her arms reached no distance at all around that sizeable neck. She wore hard-wearing fishermen's clothing and had a leather satchel over her shoulder, but the most striking detail about her was the ocean-foam hearth-dragon that swooped in to land on her other shoulder.

A moment later, the dragon took off again, its tremendous wingbeats gusting air against Karol's face and making his coat flap briefly. The woman looked around, then strode over to where he and Bron stood speechless. "Hello," she said politely, in slightly accented but perfectly understandable speech. "I am Sveta Reborn."

Several facts tumbled through Karol's mind as the hearth-dragon surveyed them curiously. She was surely bonded to the little creature, and that meant immediate good luck for any crew that took her on. Moreover, she was in favour with true dragons, and no doubt the Master of the Castle, to arrive in such a fashion, bearing such a name. Once word got around about Sveta Reborn, none would bother her in an untoward fashion, if they valued their life and limb.

"I bid you a fair eventide," he managed. "I am Karol Spindrift, and this is my brother Bron. What brings you to our humble village?"

She jerked her chin upward slightly. "I was actually hoping to find work, if there was any going about."

Bron shared a glance with Karol. "Do you know how to fish, and to sail a boat?" he asked. These things had to be asked, after all.

A smile crossed Sveta Reborn's lips as she looked out at the boats rocking gently at their moorings. "Once upon a time, when I was younger, I sailed and fished most every day. I'm sure it'll come back to me."

That was good enough for Karol. He put out his hand to clasp hers. "Then welcome aboard."



End of Part Thirty