Celina had been avoiding both Assyrius and the seed stowed beneath her bed since the day she took the latter.  Not that avoiding either proved difficult. Assyrius’s attendance at school had plunged recently, and the seed was also always out of sight, so keeping both from her thoughts was easy.  At least, until Assyrius remembered that he was still a student.

Usually the two ate lunch together, but lately Celina had eaten alone. She was actually surprised when Assyrius took a seat next to her that day, opening his lunch bag nonchalantly, as though everything were normal.  Celina considered moving, but his tranquility irritated her, so she snapped, “Where have you been?”

“Not here,” he answered.

“Yes, I know that,” she frowned. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Felt like it.”

She noticed that he still wore the black crystal earrings.  She changed tactics, and touched one lightly. “Has anyone given you trouble about these?”

“Sure,” he said. “But it wasn’t anything I couldn’t take care of.”

Celina sucked her milk straw nervously.  She feared asking what he meant by ‘take care of,’ so she sat silently, draining the carton until she slurped.  He showed interest only in his food, so her gaze wandered as she chewed the straw’s end.  Her eyes met those of a group seated several tables ahead of her own.  All six looked her way, at Assyrius, she realized.

“Y’ever get the feeling you were being watched?” Assyrius swallowed another bite of his sandwich. “I’m feeling that right now…”

“That whole table is staring at us,” Celina said.

“Jealous of my jewelry, maybe?” Assyrius grinned.

“It’s disturbing…”

“Don’t let it bother you,” Assyrius said.  He finished the sandwich. “C’mon, eat.  Then we can walk around outside for awhile.”

Only Celina’s milk remained, and she emptied that five minutes ago.

“I… I’m done,” she said.

He grabbed her lunch bag and threw it, along with his, into the trash can against the wall.  They left the cafeteria with all six pairs of eyes still staring.

“I wonder if that girl knows what’s happened to her friend,” Kaitlyn said, worriedly.

“Boyfriend,” Lani corrected. “Her name’s Celina.  I forgot Assyrius had her as a girlfriend…”

“They’re cute together,” Azura said. “Well… they were cute together.”

“I think we should follow’em,” Jada said. “He’s a danger to her now.”

“He wouldn’t try anything on school grounds…” Kaitlyn said, and then paused, remembering their first battle. “Er… forget I said that.”

“Most likely they left because they noticed our gawking,” Kiera said. “If we intend to spy, I suggest we send only one person.”

All heads turned to Kaitlyn.

“Me?” she said.

“You are fearless leader,” Roan nodded. “Also you are the only one finished eating.”

“Merg,” she said, but she disposed of her lunch and then started out. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, send a search party.”

She stepped onto the sunny breezeway, her long braid swinging like a pendulum.  Tight curls, aided by the afternoon wind, threatened to escape the braid as she walked onto the grass.  While she liked her ringlets, the sheer volume of hair was becoming a nuisance.  Even restrained into a braid it was a heavy burden, and as it brushed her bare legs she felt that it was still damp from her shower that morning.  But efforts to cut it only resulted in it growing back the next day, so she had relented, and was content to merely contain it.

Clumps of students sat on the sidewalks and around stone tables, eating and talking.  Kaitlyn squinted, searching for Assyrius or Celina, moving farther and farther away from the school with each futile turn of the head.  Finally she heard voices near the greenhouse, which she followed.  She was rewarded with the objects of her search.

Assyrius leaned against the greenhouse door as he spoke to Celina, whose legs were folded, Indian-style, on the grass.  She kept an anxious smile, and she picked at her fingers as he talked.

Kaitlyn pretended nonchalance, resting her back on the wide trunk of a tree while she tried to eavesdrop.

“…so that’s why I’m for voluntary human extinct—“ Assyrius stopped. “Hey, it’s one of those girls that were leering at us.”

“Uh?” Celina followed his gesture and saw the green-haired girl, standing by a tree close to them. “Oh… yeah. I think she’s a senior.”

“I think she’s trying to listen to us,” Assyrius said.  He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go.”

His arm slid around her waist as he turned her around, and as they left he turned his head slightly, narrowing his eyes at Kaitlyn.

Kaitlyn thought this was just a sign of annoyance until the branches of her tree snaked around her throat, holding her to the bark and crushing against her windpipe.

“Oh, crap!” She thought. “Let me go, Mr. Tree!  Miss Tree!  Please!”

The branches’ grip slackened.  She coughed violently, stumbling away from the tree and grasping at her burning throat.  When she could breathe easily again, she turned to see Assyrius and Celina walking around the corner.  Assyrius’s head turned once more towards her, and he glowered in surprise at her escape.

In an instinctive fit of immaturity, Kaitlyn stuck her tongue out at him.
 
 

“So wait… the tree tried to strangle you?” Lani said.  She peered skeptically at Kaitlyn over her coffee cup.

“I know it sounds weird, but it’s true,” Kaitlyn insisted.  They, along with the other girls, sat at a long table in the bookstore’s café, sipping drinks as Kaitlyn related her findings from lunch.  Kaitlyn stared mournfully at her orange juice as she downed another mouthful.

“Oh, I believe you,” said Roan. “I’m just still surprised that frail little weakling has acquired that kind of power.”

Lani polished off her coffee in a gulp.

“You know, I thought the whole business with animus crystals and apocalypse-inducing jewelry and all that… I thought that was some crazy-ass shit, you know?”

Azura winced.

“Pardon my english,” Lani continued, “But anyway, compared to this new nonsense, all that was as normal as waking up.”

“I think it’s kind of exciting,” Azura admitted.

“Oh, you would,” said Jada.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just think it’s weird that you find the possibility of dying a brutal death at the hands of some jacked-up psychopath so damn romantic.  That’s all.”

“No one’s dying a brutal death,” Kaitlyn said quickly. “Not while I’m around.”

“Right,” Lani said. “We’ve got fate on our side.  Oh, wait, no, we don’t…”

The memory of Omnes’s manipulation of Reve—and of him cornering her against Kaitlyn’s wall—stuck in Lani’s mind like a needle.

“I think we should be suspicious of him,” Lani said, adding quietly, “he did orchestrate that whole thing with Reve, you know…”

“Well, he’s a crazy bastard, we all know that,” Jada said. “Not news.  But I don’t think he’d purposely cause us real harm. I mean, Reve’s modus operandi was just dream invasion, right?”

“If we had not stopped him,” Kiera said, “he could have done us severe psychological damage.  Prolonged periods without sleep and dream deprivation are devastating to the fragile human psyche.  We could have gone mad, or possibly even died of exhaustion.”

“But that didn’t happen,” Jada said doggedly. “Besides, I think we should focus on these Black Moon people.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Lani agreed, “still…”

“Don’t worry about Omnes.  He’s too busy bothering Jigoku to interfere with us,” Kaitlyn rolled her eyes.

“At any rate,” said Kiera, as Lani’s eyebrows arched, “I suggest one of two plans.  Either we wait for the next attack, or we track Assyrius after school tomorrow and try to find out his intentions.”

“So, stalking or sitting around,” said Jada. “Both honorable choices.”

Kiera pursed her lips in aggravation. “And what, pray tell, is your brilliant plan?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I just wish we could do something more dramatic.”

She raised her cup and yelled towards the counter. “Hey, Etienne!  More latte!”

He glared at her from behind the counter he was cleaning.

“I’ll get it,” Xin said quickly.

“Aw, but I wanted Etienne to serve me,” Jada said, though she relinquished her cup to Xin when he brought a fresh refill.

“At least you’re calling me by my name now,” he grumbled.

Kiera and Jada exchanged glances. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t mean I want to marry you or something.”

Kaitlyn guessed that Kiera had talked to Jada, as promised.  She smiled behind her cup.

“Thank God,” he said lightly.

Kaitlyn coughed. “What about that girl who took the seed?  What should we do about that?”

“I’m afraid there’s not much we can do, without knowing her identity,” Kiera said. “We must simply hope she attends our next battle.”

Amethyst had not called her subordinates together since the embarrassing events of a over a week past.  It occurred to her that perhaps she was going about this the wrong way, and she needed time to think.  After several days of forgetting her failure and several more of deliberating, she gathered her makeshift family in the bar.

Assyrius arrived late from his sister’s piano recital.  He squeezed into their usual booth beside Pathos, who had just finished mopping floors, filling ice buckets and setting up chairs in preparation for that night’s business.

Amethyst tapped her fingers together. “Good evening, Assyrius.”

“Cassandra’s recital ran a little long,” he said sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Quite alright,” she said. “But since you were late, I’ll recap.”

She unhooked one of her black crystal earrings as she spoke. “While I do still think that a murder of any kind would draw too much attention, I think perhaps we should be more forceful in our efforts."”

He grinned, and she went on, “Yes, I knew you’d be delighted.  But you still may not kill anyone, which is what I know you intended to do to that boy.”

“Aw, all right…” said Assyrius, in the manner of a child told he could not touch any sharp objects.

“She’s no fun, is she?” Harmatia shook her head.

“We also need more organization,” Amethyst continued, “and we need to stop letting the seeds—and people—escape.”
Peripeteia knew that aside was meant for her, even without the unnerving glare of Amethyt’s sightless eyes.

“That said,” Amethyst positioned the crystal over the map spread out on the table.  It hovered, spinning, over the nearby Catholic church.  The face of a young priest glowed in the projection the crystal produced from its tip.

“A priest,” Pathos said. “Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Don’t underestimate the clergy,” said Amethyst. She pushed the earring back into place as Pathos rolled up the map. “Perhaps they are weak, but God affords them many allies.  And we can’t kill any of them.”

Today, though, she mainly just wanted to meet the new priest.  She blushed when she saw him—he was young, and handsome.  Of course, the last priest, Riordan, had also been fairly young.  But he had also been evil.

Yet she sensed nothing but gentleness from Father Keene; he possessed a rare sort of aura that emanated peace.  He spoke softly, with an Irish flavored accent, like someone that had been away from his country for many years, but still retained some vestige of his homeland.

Azura was very much looking forward to Sunday’s sermon.

She always cut through the graveyard on her way out, telling herself it was purely for its virtue as a shortcut, though she checked Sikari’s grave every day.  Yesterday she noticed that the wilting flowers were about ready to crumble, so that day she brought a fresh bouquet.  But as she approached the tombstone, she saw a figure kneeling beside it, plucking weeds from the earth.  Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a boy, about her age, his face mostly hidden by hair the same color as the earth upon which he labored.

“H-hey,” Azura said. “Hullo?”

“Eh?” said the boy, sitting up on his knees to look at her. “May I help you?”

His voice was thickly Irish, full of easygoing lilt.

“Er, well, I…” she blinked, “What are you doing?”

“This plot was getting a bit overgrown, so I thought I’d just clean it up a mite…” said the boy, bemused.

“Oh,” she said, “I guess you’re right.  I never pulled the weeds… just left flowers.”

She proffered the bouquet as evidence, since she saw that the old flowers were gone, likely already stuffed into the black trash bag sitting beside the boy.

“They’re lovely,” he said, setting them on the grave. “By the way, I’m Dagan.”

He pulled off one of his heavy work gloves and then took her fingers in his. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I’m Azura,” she said. “Do you, um, work here?”

“Aye,” he answered, “In a manner of speaking.  I’m the new priest’s nephew.”

“He’s very nice.”

“That he is,” Dagan said. “He’s letting me take care of the grounds.”

“Did you just move here?”

“Bout a two weeks ago, yeah.  I’m living with my uncle.”

“I suppose it would be rude to ask about your parents…”

“Spect it would,” he said, but he was smiling. “Enough about me anyway—where’re you from?  Sounds English.”

“From London,” she nodded, “but I’ve been here for almost four years now.”

“Still got the accent though, eh?” Dagan’s smile widened into a grin. “It’s the same for me.”

“Which high school will you be attending?”

“There’s only one around here, I think,” he replied. “Vinton, aye?”

“Right,” she said, feeling stupid.  She knew that.  Azura decided to get out of there before she painted herself as a complete fool. “Well, I’ll see you there.”

“I hope so,” said Dagan.

Etienne shut the cash register with exhausted satisfaction.  He untied his apron and then folded it, tucking it under his arm as he grabbed the shop keys.  He was eager to lock the store and go home.

“Man, I could use a drink,” he sighed aloud.

“Want to go get one?” A tentative voice said, from behind him.

Thinking that the other workers had already gone home, Etienne spun around with an expression that he hoped looked menacing.

“It’s just me,” Xin said, holding his hands up, palms flat.

The tension drained from Etienne’s muscles.  Mostly.

“Oh, hi,” he said, “I thought you’d left.”

“Nope, still here,” Xin said cheerfully.

“Come on then.  Don’t want to be locked in, do you?”

He held open the door for Xin.  Once he had locked it, Xin tried again.

“So… how about a drink?”

“You’re not old enough,” Etienne said gruffly.

“I’m only a year younger than you.”

“Are you?”

Etienne strode towards his car, avoiding Xin’s eyes.

“Come on, it’s not like I’m asking for a date,” he pleaded.

Etienne stopped. “It’s not you.”

He remembered their kiss from so long ago. “Well… it’s not entirely you.”

Xin waited for elaboration.

“Look, I haven’t had a drink in over a month and a half.  Omnes has been seeing to that.  If I went with you to a bar, he’d just turn the wine to water or something.”

“Oh,” said Xin. “Well… you could at least try.”

Etienne hesitated, and Xin pouted in response.  He rolled his eyes. “Where do you want to go?”

“Just follow my car,” Xin said happily.

“A surprise, huh,” Etienne said, as Xin practically skipped across the parking lot.

He tailed Xin’s little convertible until it pulled up in front of a building with a neon sign above its doors, proclaiming its name as “Café Apocalypse.”

Although Vinton’s nightlife wasn’t exactly bustling, the streets were still peppered with pedestrians out patronizing the bars and clubs that lined what served as downtown.  Bright windows and glowing signs lit the sidewalks, and the street shone under the steady flow of car headlights.

Etienne breathed thick, humid air as he shut his car door.  Girls in tight, undersized shorts and spaghetti strap tops and men in muscle shirts meandered past.  The sight of them seemed to make Etienne’s black jeans and shirt even hotter.  A film of perspiration slicked his hands as he held open the bar’s door for Xin.

“You’re so chivalrous, Etienne,” Xin giggled.

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered.

The sweat on his skin dried minutes after entering the bar.  Its owners spared no expense with the air conditioning; Etienne shivered from the temperature drop as he climbed onto a stool.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked.

“Got any pinot noir?” Etienne said hopefully.

“Refined taste, eh?” the bartender’s expression was hidden beneath dim lighting and the mask he wore on his face.  Used to odd characters after his long stay in the Negaverse, Etienne assumed it was a fashion statement.  The mask disarmed Xin, however, and he took a minute to respond when asked for an order.

“Umm, margarita, please,” he said finally. “Uh, on the rocks.”

When their drinks were served and the bartender’s attention focused on another customer, Xin said, “There’s something odd about him.”

Etienne raised the precious wine to his lips, praying Omnes was preoccupied as he tipped the cup towards his throat.  The sweet wine coated his tongue, and he swished it around his mouth before swallowing, savoring its rich taste.  After three sips he said, “You know, you’re right.”

He licked his lips and added, staring at the bartender (who was mixing a drink, oblivious to him and Xin), “He’s got some kind of magical power.  Recently acquired.  Like it was poured into him… from a cup…”

He took another sip. “Mmmyep.”

“You’re not worried?” Xin stirred his margarita nervously.

“I sense glamour and magic and things like that all the time,” he muttered. “It’s everywhere in this damn town.  If I worried about everything I sensed it’d be the death of me.”

He drank a final swig of wine. “More, bartender.”

“Wine’s not meant to be guzzled,” he said as he refilled the glass.

"What can I say?" Etienne replied. "I love what makes me sick."

“He hasn’t had any in weeks,” Xin said apologetically.

“Pity,” said the bartender, his amused tone muffled through the mask.

“It really is,” said Etienne.  He sipped the wine with a little less ferocity but no less thirst. “Mmm..winey.”

Xin’s margarita still touched the brim of its cup.  He drank it nervously.  He wanted to speak, but the bartender stood before them, washing glasses.  Listening or not, Xin did not fancy taking the chance of his hearing what Xin wanted to say.

“So what’s your name, huh?” asked Etienne.

“Pathos,” he said.

“Clever.  I’m Etienne.”

“French,” said Pathos. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, that’s Xin,” said Etienne. “He thinks you’re evil.”

Xin squeaked and jabbed Etienne weakly in the side.  Etienne shrugged. “Well, you do.”

Pathos laughed. “I guess my mask gives me away.”

“Got a face under there?” asked Etienne, jokingly.

“Somewhat,” Pathos said.

Xin gulped the margarita in fear and almost choked.

“Shouldn’t guzzle that either,” nodded Pathos.

“Relax, Xin,” Etienne said. “S’all good…”

“E… Etienne.  Don’t get drunk.  You have to drive yourself home.”

“Ah.. yeah.” Etienne said, like he had received a revelation. “Hm.”

Pathos was called away by shouts from down the counter.  As he turned, one of the skylights hit the mask that concealed Pathos’s face.  Carved into the forehead was an inverse moon, filled with black.  The sight piqued Etienne’s memory.

“Perhaps we should be nervous,” he said dully.

“Uh?”

“Kaitlyn told me… Those guys they’re fighting now.  Black Moon.  That one has the symbol on his forehead.”

He frowned suddenly at his wine glass.  He tapped the stem with a fingernail.  “Haven’t you ever been here before?”

“Er, well,” Xin coughed, “I saw it once while walking and thought the name sounded neat.  But I didn’t want to go in alone.”

“Ah,” Etienne said, “Your true plan revealed.”

“Not like it’s an evil plan,” Xin mumbled.

“Why not ask Aegis?”

“Someone’s got to watch Rose.”

“Oh, right,” Etienne said.  He sighed longingly at his wine, “I think it’s time to go home.”

He slid off the stool and they walked out together.  Before he went to his car he extended his hand to Xin’s. "Thanks."

Xin took his hand and grasped it tightly, probably too tight for Etienne’s comfort, but he was in habit of taking what he could get. “It didn’t seem like you had such a good time, though…”

“I would have liked to stay longer,” Etienne said, “But something is always better than nothing.  Goodnight, Xin.”

He freed his fingers.

Xin supposed they were more alike than Etienne knew.

CK sat at Kaitlyn’s little kitchen table, her small legs dangling. “What do you have?”

“Not much,” Kaitlyn admitted.  Her hand closed around a plastic package of noodles.  It crinkled in protest as she tore it open. “Spaghetti good?”

CK smiled. “Yup.”

Kaitlyn pulled out another chair as the noodles boiled on the stove.  She eyed the considerably large pot, brimming with cooking spaghetti.

“You know, I don’t think we’ll be able to eat all that…” she said slowly. “Maybe I should call Etienne.”

But her doorbell rang before she could pick up the phone.

“Hey, Kait,” said Etienne, “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Care to discuss it over dinner?” she said hopefully.

He sniffed the air. “Spaghetti?  Sure.”

He joined Kaitlyn and CK at the little table.  He ruffled CK’s hair congenially. “Hey, kid.”

“So what’s up?” asked Kaitlyn.

“I, uh, I went to a bar with Xin tonight…” Etienne began. “And there was this guy there.  The bartender.  He had a mask on his face, with an upside down moon carved into the forehead.”

“Found one, huh?” said Kaitlyn. She tapped her cheek. “Maybe we should raid the place.”

“His name is Pathos,” Etienne added helpfully.

“So, they were artificial, then…” CK mumbled.

“Hm?” Kaitlyn looked at CK, whose eyes were half-closed in thought.  Kaitlyn’s voice brought her back to the table, and her lids shot up in surprise.

“Umm, I think the noodles are done!” CK said, gesturing to the bubbling pot.

“Oh my God!” Kaitlyn cried, turning off the stove hastily. “Jeez, I suck.”

She set the heavy pot in the sink to cool. “CK, honey, would you tell Reve that dinner’s about ready?”

“Alright.”

Etienne watched her disappear into the other room. “You’ve got a regular family going on here.”

“Well, Reve’s a cat most of the time, but I figure human dinners are better for him than kibble.  And CK’s like a miniature adult…so it’s not quite the same.”

“Reve’s still in the shower,” CK was suddenly there again, by the table.  Etienne twitched in his seat.

“How did you do that?  And what do you mean, in the shower?!”

“It’s not like I’m speaking metaphorically…” CK shrugged.

Etienne stared open-mouthed at Kaitlyn, who was tipping the pot to drain it.

“You let him use your shower?!” he said, when his gaping went ignored.

“What’s he gonna do, wait ‘till it rains?” she said, frowning at the pot, which threatened to slip from her grasp.

“B-but…”

“Relax, Eti.  We don’t take them together or anything.”

She ladled the noodles into four bowls.  On the second bowl she added, “Well, there was that one time…”

Etienne gargled, and she finished quickly, “I wasn’t in there with him, I was just showing him how it worked, that’s all.”

“Kaitlyn, where’s the… the..” Reve stood in the doorway to Kaitlyn’s room, his hair dripping, a towel wrapped around his thin waist.  “The thing that makes my hair not wet anymore.”

“It’s under the sink, Reve,” Kaitlyn said. “Do you want me to get it for you?”

“Yes, please,” he said, his helpless lavender eyes on the puddle forming around his feet.

Kaitlyn set the bowls on the table and left to help Reve.

“Jesus,” said Etienne.

“He’s just a child,” said CK. “I doubt he’s capable of thinking the thoughts you fear.”

“Are you?”

“Do I look like it?”

“You don’t act like a child, that’s for sure.”

“And Reve doesn’t look like one.”

“Crazy.”

Kaitlyn returned some time later, with Reve in tow.  Fortunately the spaghetti still steamed as they twirled it around their forks.  The buttery, slightly salty noodles slid easily down Etienne’s throat, and he realized he was terribly hungry after the first bite.  He devoured the bowl and two more with ravenous abandon.  The others, full after their first servings, observed him in awe.

“So, Etienne…” Kaitlyn said, “You said you went to a bar.  Does that mean you got wine?”

“Yup,” he said. “I guess Omnes is busy tonight.”

“D’you like the food?”

“It’s great,” he grinned. “Thanks.”

“I never would have guess you possessed such a labyrinthine gut,” CK remarked.

“I don’t eat breakfast,” he said, by way of defense, “and lunch was half a sandwich, not to mention hours ago.”

Reve, now a cat, rubbed against CK’s legs and purred.  Gathering him into her arms, she carried him into the living room, cooing, “Let’s go watch TV, Reve.”

The cat purred in response.

“I lose a little bit of hope every time I see her,” Etienne sighed, mostly to himself.  Kaitlyn rinsed the dishes without speaking.

“Sorry,” he said.

“It’s.. it’s not that,” she said.

She heard Reve’s voice in her mind.

“I think you should tell him.”

Her cheeks colored. “Tell him what?”

“You know.”

Kaitlyn wrote a mental note to herself about speaking with Reve about his habit of traversing her subconscious.  She knew he would never judge or tell what he saw, but it was, regardless, private.  Not that he could be expected to know or even understand that.

“Umm…” Kaitlyn sat back down, pulling on her braid nervously.  “Etienne, I’ve been thinking a lot lately.  Thinking…”

"And dreaming," she thought.

At the same time, Etienne thought (as his eyes jumped from her teeth in her lip to her fingers digging at her braid), “Oh, fuck.  She’s decided she hates me.  She doesn't want to see me anymore.  She just wants to be friends.  She's found someone else.  Ohgod.”

His hands began to shake. "Ohgodohgodohgod—"

She noticed his trembling fingers and instinctively covered them with her palm. “Etienne, relax.”

He shook.

“Come on, Etienne, don’t spaz on me, it’s okay.  Deep breaths.”

Peace flowed into him from her fingertips, and his body relaxed, though his brain still panicked.  But even that panic was fading under her touch and her soft gaze.  His lips parted, and he whispered, “You’re amazing.”

She drew back her hand and muttered. “Nah.”

Fright prickled at his heart, but it was like a spider web—thin, gossamer, only just barely there.

He breathed deep.

“Kaitlyn, I…”

“Let me finish,” she said.  She fiddled with her braid again, undoing it, so that her hair cascaded over her shoulders and down across her back, falling to the floor in a tumble of ringlets.

Etienne thought it was gorgeous, and he said so.

“It’s a pain,” she confessed, now playing with a stray ringlet, “But I’m digressing.”

Etienne waited, hardly daring to breathe, to think, to move, for fear that panic might seize him again.

“Like I said, I’ve been thinking a lot lately.” She chewed the ringlet. “And I realized something.”

Thinking he would soon pass out from lack of breath, Etienne exhaled, but did not interrupt.  She patted his fingers.

“Etienne, I think… I know…” she met his eyes directly, blue on black, “I love you.”

The despairing tears at the back of Etienne’s throat welled up as relief, spilling hotly onto his cheeks as he gripped Kaitlyn’s hand. “S… say it again.  So.. so I know this isn’t a drunken hallucination.”

“Etienne…” she said, leaning over the table so that her lips were almost brushing his, “I love you.”

Impulsively, he kissed her, gently at first and then deeper, holding her hands as they rose from the table and pressed together, lost in the embrace.  The taste was salty sweet and warm, the best, most perfect feeling Etienne had ever known.  He kissed her until they could no longer breathe, their lips parting only for air.

She rested her head on his shoulder, looking up at him as she brushed away a drying tear with her hand. “I love a man who’s not afraid to cry.”

He laughed, rubbing his eyes, having no idea what to say.  He only wanted to stand there and hold her until his body ached.

Across town, Aegis and Xin suddenly looked at each other, chills running simultaneously down their spines.

Celina decided that it was time to find out what was going on.  The next day, with her transformation pen tucked into her pocket, she stalked Assyrius as he left school.  Having little experience in stalking, she thought Assyrius’s never noticing her was amazing.  That he did not notice the six other girls also stalking him was miraculous.

When he turned down the pathway towards the Catholic church and pushed open its double doors, Celina stopped.  The girls, pretending they were merely walking home together, ignored her presence until she said, loudly, “Hey.”

“Yes?” said the tallest one, a girl with long green hair in ringlets.  Celina’s memory reminded her that this was Kaitlyn, the girl from yesterday.

“Any reason you’re tracking Syrius?”

“Any reason you are?” said a tanned girl.  Her memory supplied this girl’s name as Jada, who was always with Kiera, who was part of the group standing before her and an acquaintance of Assyrius.  As her eyes jumped from face to face in the group, Celina realized that she knew each of them at least in a vague sense.  But then, their school was small, and to not know someone at all usually meant the student was either new, invisible, or psychotically quiet.  At Vinton, all three were entirely possible.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Celina frowned. “He’s been acting weird lately.”

“We’ve noticed,” muttered Jada.

“Why do you care?” Celina said.

“Perhaps you ought to go home, Celina,” said Kiera, in a gentle (though somewhat patronizing) tone.

Celina dug into her pocket for the transformation pen, clutching it for reassurance.  Kaitlyn, noticing and seeming to recognize the gesture, asked, “What’s that in your pocket?”

“N-nothing,” said Celina. “Listen, I can handle Assyrius.  You don’t know him.”

“I don’t think you realize what’s happened to him,” said Kaitlyn.

“We’re wasting time,” snarled Roan.  She waved her hand in dismissal as she walked towards the church. “Let her follow us if she likes.  It’s her funeral.”

“Roan,” hissed Azura, chasing after her friend.  The others broke away in succession until only Kaitlyn remained, facing Celina with pleading eyes.  Ordinarily Celina would have shrugged off such an obvious guilt trip, but Kaitlyn’s earnestness struck her.

“You have to stay away from him,” Kaitlyn said.

“I understand that,” said Celina, “But I can’t.  I have to find out what’s going on.”

She fingered the pen in her pocket.  Surely she could protect herself against him with it.  And he wouldn’t attack, anyway.  They could probably just talk out.  The pen was a precaution.

“He’s not the only one, you know,” Kaitlyn said, as if reading Celina’s inner monologue. “There are others.  All much stronger than him.  Please, just go. I don’t know if we can fight them and protect you.”

“I can protect myself,” said Celina stubbornly, wondering how they intended to succeed where they thought she would fail.  She avoided Kaitlyn’s worried face, with her pursed lips, eyebrows drawn down and forehead wrinkled with worry.  It was a face used by mothers on children when they played in the street or with knives.  Powerfully effective.

At last Kaitlyn sighed in resignation.

“Alright,” she said. “I understand.  But promise me you’ll run if it gets dicey, okay?”

Celina nodded, and they went into the church together.

Two women, one with sallow, ill skin and the other with a strange, feral air despite her antique pink dress, knelt in the pews.  A man with a mask over half his face paged through an open Bible on the altar, and a blind teenager ran her fingers over the colored windows.

A short while later, a boy wearing a spiked collar walked into the nave, tailed by five girls.  Two more girls came in afterwards, and the one with silver hair pushed past the first five and towards the boy.

Father Keene left the sacristy and stepped slowly into the nave, meandering towards the altar.

“There’s no mass until five,” he said, “Unless you are all here to confess.”

The blind girl moved away from the windows, led to him by the sound of his voice.  She touched his face with her fingers, which he allowed with a smile.

The two women in the pews rose, and their bodies changed and shifted into growling wolves.

“I would advise you not to move, Father,” whispered the blind girl.

“Y’know, maybe we should have transformed before we came in here,” said Jada.

“Let’s do it now, while they’re all distracted,” said Lani.  They left the narrow rows of pews, crowding into the sacristy adjacent to the nave.

“We are so not supposed to be in here,” said Azura nervously.

“It’s just for a minute,” Jada rolled her eyes.  They raised their pens and transformed, one after the other.

“I hate fighting in churches,” said Undine. “Let’s try to draw them outside.”

“I don’t know if we’ll have time for that,” said Mana.

Amethyst clutched Father Keene’s forehead, digging her nails into the soft skin.  His mind resisted her intrusion, and he cried out in pain and protest.

“Keep still!” Amethyst snapped. “It won’t hurt if you don’t fight me.”

“Uncle!” Dagan ran down the nave and up to the altar, pushing violently past everyone in his way.  Celina stumbled into the pews, avoiding a complete fall by grabbing the top of a bench.  The other girls scattered, surrounding Amethyst and Father Keene in a ring formation, while Assyrius, ignoring Celina, got back to his feet and headed for the altar.

“Freeze!” yelled Undine, and Amethyst, thinking it was a command, did not move.  Tightly packed spheres of ice hailed down against her back, and she was brought to her knees in cold shock.  Father Keene crumpled, his skin dripping with sweat.

“Remember what I said about force?” growled Amethyst.

“Salamando, Sylphid!” Mana called. “Help the priest!”

“C’mon, Father,” Sylphid said, as she and Salamando took his arms.

One of the wolves transformed back to her human self.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” said Peripetaia.  She touched Salamando’s wrist with a slight smile.  Salamando pushed her away easily, but in doing so felt a painful sickness suddenly coursing through her veins.

“Fuck!” she coughed, clutching her stomach.

“Salamando?!” Sylphid said, staggering under Father Keene’s full weight.

“Hey!” cried Undine, “Don’t swear in church.”

“F-fuck you,” said Salamando, trembling from the poison.

Harmatia the wolf leapt at Sylphid, growling and baring her teeth.  Her vicious fangs achieved their purpose—stunned with fear, Sylphid let Father Keene escape her grasp.  He heaved, struggling to sit up on his own, holding his head in pain.

“Damn,” said Mana. “Lumina, I’d tell you to attack, but this room is too small.”

“I know,” she said, “I don’t think I could contain the light beams.”

“Let me try,” said Shade.  She raised her hand and spread her fingers, pointing them towards Harmatia. “Dark Gate!”

A small vortex of black energy opened up above the wolf, growing larger as it fed on her malevolent aura.  The black sphere fattened until it burst, exploding around Harmatia.  She howled in confusion and rolled onto her back, quaking as though in a seizure.

“Excellent,” Mana grinned.  She sprinted to the priest and helped Sylphid pull him to a standing position.

“Can you walk?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” Father Keene said weakly.

“Do something, Pathos,” said Amethyst.

“But this is a church,” he protested. “I can’t just rip up a church.”

“Useless,” she hissed.  She focused her mind on a psychic blast, which she aimed at the escaping soldiers and the priest.

“Wall!” shouted Mana, and a green barrier shot up around them, deflecting the attack.

“When did you learn that?” Sylphid said incredulously.

“Just now,” Mana answered breathlessly, as they stopped in the garden, panting.

Most of the others ran out after them, including Dagan, who was bewildered and furious.

Celina waited until the church emptied before taking out her pen.

“Assyrius didn’t even notice me…” she mumbled.  She spoke the words to transform and closed her eyes as the world became a silver blur.  Her normal clothes faded into her body as the short skirt, the ribbons, and the white bodice sparkled into their places.  When the sequence ended, she walked out into the garden. “Maybe he’ll notice this.”

“Can’t you hear me?!” Dagan yelled. “All of you, get away from him!”

“We hear you,” said Assyrius, “we just don’t care.”

Dagan’s gentle features contorted with rage.  A symbol, rich brown in color, glowed to life on his forehead.  His body shone with an intense, nearly black light that faded to white as it enveloped him.  When the light dissolved completely, a cape was fluttering behind him, armor covered his chest, and he was shod in high combat boots.

“What the bleeding hell?!” he gasped, as a jumble of memories raced through his brain in rapid succession.  Random, powerful images of a life long forgotten presented themselves in his mind’s eye vividly, but for only moments at a time.

“Is he… one of us?” whispered Mana.

“Jesus,” said Assyrius. “How many of you are there?”

“But.. he’s a guy,” said Sylphid. “I thought this was a girl thing.”

“I’m…” said Dagan, blinking, “I’m Gnome Knight.”

Lumina broke the stunned silence with a snigger. “Gnome?”

“Shove off,” Gnome said, glowering.

“Enough of this,” snapped Amethyst. “Assyrius!”

“Yes,” he said, the whites of his blue eyes glowing green.

Blades of grass shot up around Mana and Sylphid’s ankles, twisting and knotting as they bound them to where they stood.

“Argh! It itches!” Mana squirmed.

“Air Blades!” cried Sylphid.  Chakras of wind sliced up her grass bonds.  She directed them towards Mana, and they cut her free before disappearing.

“Well met,” said Assyrius.

Harmatia regained human form.  She withdrew a pair of knives hidden in her socks, shouting as she threw them, “Odium Symphonia!”

The knives struck into Sylphid’s shoulders with such force that she was pitched backwards, pinned to the ground as the knives dug into the earth.  She screamed in agony. “Why am I always the one getting hit with knives?!”

Harmatia grinned as the knives sparked with energy, sizzling through the blood on their blades and through Sylphid’s open wounds.

Horrified, Sailor Mana summoned her staff to her hands, while Undine ran to remove the knives.  They flew from her hands as soon as she had yanked them free, returning to Harmatia, who licked Sylphid’s blood off the dull edges with a grin.

“Radical Healing!” Mana swung the staff in Sylphid’s direction, and her wounds healed, closing instantly.

“You bastards,” Sylphid grumbled, rubbing her shoulders.

In this confusion, Amethyst had grabbed the priest and was again attempting to take from him the information she needed.

Sailor Luna entered the battlefield just then also, having decided what to do.  She waited for Gnome.

He pressed his fists together, and as he yelled “Gem Missile!” she aided the attack’s strength with her Lunar Boost.  Assyrius did indeed look their way, but with searing hatred and without any recognition of Luna as Celina.

Enormous, sharply cut diamonds rained down on Amethyst, bloodying and tearing her clothes and skin.  She gritted her teeth in obvious pain, but held her ground.  Finally she pushed Father Keene away and rose, breathing shallowly.  She limped towards the church.

“Blaze Wall!”

Salamando’s flames burst up high around Amethyst.

“This time I’ll not stand down,” she said.  She teleported to the other side of the wall, stumbling, but continuing to walk.

The soldiers prepared for another series of attacks, and Pathos decided to try something.  He did not want to rip up the church garden any more than he wanted to destroy the church.

So he took off his mask.

The effect was immediate.  A shriek from Undine caused the others to look his way, and their reactions—cries of dismay and revulsion—were similar.

The wind stung at the raw, exposed muscle of the right side of his face.  The left half was normal—attractive, even, with fair, smooth skin and one expressive, brilliantly blue eye.

But the right half was only red muscle, intertwined with wires and bone, and where would ordinarily be an eye there was only a black depression.

Mana’s first instinct, after the sickness the initial image produced, was to try to heal it.  Lumina must have read her intentions, because she whispered fiercely, “Don’t.”

The distraction proved successful.  Amethyst, now inside the church, extracted the Mana Seed from the altar in the nave.  The seed opened as she touched it, and a bow and quiver of arrows emerged from inside it.  The weapon disappeared, coalescing into Undine’s hands.

“Another Mana weapon!”  said Lumina. “Amethyst has the seed!”

As if on cue, Amethyst walked out of the church, the seed firmly in her hands.

“Everyone! Let’s go!” she said.  She teleported, and the others followed suit.

There was a moment of dumb shock.

“Goddammit,” said Lumina, finally.  “We just lost, didn’t we?”

“What?” she said, stopping.

“You’re one of us, you know?” Lumina said.  She nodded to Gnome Knight. “You too, man.  I guess.”

“Now we have a full team,” said Mana.

“Team?” said Luna. “I didn’t know there was a team.”

“You’re a little slow, aren’t you?” said Salamando.  She was recovered from the poison, but still irritated, both at having succumbed to the attack and having her own thwarted by Amethyst.  She detransformed, and the others did so as well, their bodies glowing slightly as their normal clothes replaced the sailor outfits.

“Celina!?” said Kaitlyn, as Celina said, “Hey, you people were stalking me and Assyrius.”

“Sorry,” said Kaitlyn sheepishly.

“Just doin’ our job,” said Jada. “I mean, your boyfriend is evil and all.”

“I’ve noticed,” sighed Celina. “I guess I could do with some help.”

“Would anyone mind explainin’ what’s going on?” said Dagan, who was supporting the still weak priest as they walked up to the group.

“It’s kind of a long story,” said Kaitlyn, “but basically you’re a.. uh.. um…”

“Champion of justice,” supplied Jada.

“Yeah, that,” Kaitlyn nodded.

“Let’s go inside,” said Azura. “We’ll explain everything.”

“Good work tonight,” said Amethyst. “Especially you, Pathos.”

They were back at the bar, with only an hour before opening time.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “So glad my hideous deformity could be of service.”

He was already behind the counter, the mask firmly over his face.  He was trying to erase the images of those girls’ terror and horror from his mind.  Being reminded of the incident, even in a positive way, was not helping.

“Umm, Amethyst…” Assyrius said, in an attempt to change the subject, “Why exactly are we gathering these seeds?”

“Hm, well… you have the seen the weapons that are inside the seeds, yes?” she said.  He nodded. “Once all eight have been activated and brought together, they will unlock another weapon.  I’ll harness its energy and extract it, using it to devastate the human race.”

“That’s another thing,” said Assyrius. “You know why we're against humanity…but you’ve never told us your reason.”

Amethyst shut her sightless eyes. “If not for humanity, then my family—my planet—would still be alive.”
 
 

Finally done.  That battle scene was a bitch and a half to write.  Hopefully it does not suck.

Any thoughts? n_n Email me or post.