So far Untitled
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So far Untitled - Chapter 1: The Dying Package

Those that know the warehouse district in Landover could spend their whole lives like prowling cats and never know that at a generic storage rental facility, a deejay wearing false vampire fangs spins gothic and industrial remixes out of one of the larger storage units. As his fingerless gloves fiddle with silver knobs and sliders, he spends most of his time staring at nothing while his arms move like clockwork.

Dancing in a mad rush before him are about 200 goths and posers. Industrials and emos mix with miligoths and skinheads. All are hopping around like mad; possessed by the magic of the deejay, who is only known by his online handle: Wooly B. Wooly is not special. He is the result of a forgotten night between his Indian mother and Chinese father, long since parted. His is both known and not known. No one who dances before his tunes knows where he goes during the day, and no one during the day knows where he goes at night. But for now, he's the conductor of the mad slinging going on on the poorly-lit cement floor before him. And people who know him know where to just appear, even if they don't know each other. They are almost anonymous in their group presence like a collective camouflage among their own kind.

If one were to slow down the scene before them, they would see movements that begin to show patterns. Wooly B is almost still, and the slow movements of the dancers seem almost like fractal patterns in motion. If one were to try and trace these patterns, and look for their unity, one would find that they more or less go to the beat as much as their bodies can carry them.

But soon the viewer would see that three figures, previously anonymous amid the sea of constant difference and motion, begin to stand out as their own unified pattern.

One of them is hopping a little taller than the others, almost trying to make up for her short height. Her childlike face rounds out her large black eyes, and shiny black lip gloss sparkles in the spinning lights. Her shoulder-length brown hair is held back from her pale face by a cloth hair band that sports a large taffeta bow. Her eyelashes end in long sweeps of lines, looking like two short antennae. As she leaps almost twice her body height in our slow-motion vision, her striped stocking legs bend behind her, showing off a pair of dirty red Chuck Taylors held together by duct tape. A black leather jacket, bedecked with silver ball bead chains held on with buttons and safety pins, swings open and shut as she spins, exposing a red tee-shirt with a skull and a bow. Around her waist is a black taffeta skirt, covered with ribbons of black and purple lace. It's hard to tell her mood, because her eyes have no iris or white, making her grins look almost sinister and cruel. A pair of pink taffeta wings sprouts from her back through slits in her leather jacket, and are held in shape by thick wire. They almost seem to flap on their own, as if they are developing muscles.

That's because they are.

Next to her is a tall, thin, long-faced girl, who looks to be in her late teens. Her lanky shape seems to move like a skeleton being rattled by its spine. Her long, thin arms and limps swing out, snap, when they reach their length, and then retreat down by her side again. She almost seems to less be dancing than being slung around like a rag doll. Her long cleft chin smiles like she has a thousand hidden secrets, and all of them are moving her limbs in an attempt to be free. She wears a loose black cotton sun dress with a thick patent leather belt. Her thick orthopedic shoes kick and sway as her powerful legs, wrapped in long strips of gray cloth, swing nearly to her head in a flexible manner that only adds to the effect that unseen forces make her dance.

Lastly, the less active of the trio stands out in contrast. While she does not dance and jump to the music, her thin arms spin and sway like a high-speed waltz. Her black cotton Victorian work dress and aprons looks a lot like a late 1800's factory worker, only her arms are coated with black and red striped arm stockings. Her long hair, braided thick with large purple ribbon, swing with her arms like a graceful ballet of chasing streams of cloth. Once in a while, she sways, exposing the hint of sharp metal blades among her apron folds. Her young, pale face does not smile as the others do. The expression on her face is one of serenity.

One would be right to think these three young ladies were together. One might also speculate they were here for a reason. Both thoughts would be correct.

Far away from them is a young college girl who has run away from home in her mind, and is dancing with a man who, in less than an hour, will transform her into her new life. Jean Carter had been waiting for this moment for over a month, ever since she started speaking to that strange woman in the coffee shop. Jean was, but her own mother's description, "plain as paper, dull as dishwater." Older middle child of four kids, Jean was most left behind than any other other nanny-raised children. She had seen the inside of more police stations than any of her other siblings, either because she was lost, or she was caught with trouble. Shuffled off to college, she found the Goth community almost right away, and changed her major from biochemical engineering ("Maybe someone will marry you if you have a degree or something," her mother said) to liberal arts. A year ago, she started reading tarot, and seemed to be quite good at it. She started reading tarot at a coffee shop in College Park when a strange woman, who looked like an aged 1920s flapper in black clothing, started to get readings on a weekly basis. That's when the cards stopped being read, and started SPEAKING to Jean. They moved her fingers, controlled her voice, and for several months she acted as a mere participant, watching and learning as they told her this woman was more than she seemed, and that her current dealings with her many children were more than kids and grand kids involved in normal day-to-day business, but were involved it what could only be a vast and complex crime syndicate that guarded ...things.

Her dancing moved in stilted rhythm as her boyfriend of the last year jumped around, moved by violent integral conflicts that came as voices from his past: his parents divorcing, his cruel step-mother, being beat up in school... and a girl he killed another lifetime ago. His faded military jacket, picked up at a yard sale, was decorated with Satanic symbols in Sharpie. His pockmarked face was peppered with a scrawny wiry facial stubble, and his long black hair flailed around; stifled by oils not washed since he last got caught in the rain a few weeks prior. He knew something was distracting his poor Jean.
"Such a stupid creature," he thought. "Jean should be happy with me. If she stopped thinking so much, stopped hanging around her her stupid friends, she would be mine and mine alone, and everything would be okay." He considered Jean ungrateful, and while he loved her, Jean made him do things that made him lose control. If only she would just shut up and listen to him. If only she did what she was told, then they BOTH could be happy. In his jacket pocket was a heavy object; a folding hunting knife.

It was insurance she would listen to him, if it came to that.

Jean thought about this older woman. She pictured the woman sitting at an uncomfortable metal cafe chair across from her, noisily sipping a frosted orange drink from a wax paper cup and straw, looking pensive and thoughtful. A small metal wire table barely held the display of cards in front of them. Jean always started with a standard Celtic Cross, but now almost 2/3rds of the deck were scattered in patterns that spun off like uncurling ferns. One month ago, this display looked so vibrant and loud, she was only half surprised her body stood up and declared, loudly among twenty-something coffee drinkers, "THE ABOMINATION WILL DESTROY THE GATES, IF YOU LET HER ROAM ...SHE WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING!!!" She then collapsed, exhausted among her pile of cards, now frayed around the edges like they were 200 years old from a museum collection that had once been pulled from a fire, not 6 months old from a game and hobby store downtown.

The old woman patted her hands. Her thin and bony hands seemed to suck the heat from Jean's body. She looked up at the woman, through tear-stained eyes, and sucked in her snot... feeling like a helpless little girl who had just soiled herself and nanny was now going to punish her. But instead, the woman said, "Jean... you have a gift. If you want to follow this gift, leave a black crow's feather in sealed plastic bottle by the crook of the large oak tree near your dormitory. If you decide not to choose this gift, do nothing, and return to the remnants of you life which..." and the woman looked at a large and strange pocket-watch, "... will be about a month from next Tuesday, if I wound this thing correctly."

"How will I die?" she asked.

Our vision now speeds up in real time. The dance floor seems strangely harsh and distracting. People are jumping, hopping, and slinging themselves to Wooly's latest remix, which was based on Pachelbel's Kanon and something from a local group known as "Slice of Pain." All characters fade into the background as the night wears on.

Hours passed, and so had most of the people. Wooly B had shaken hands with some friends a few hours ago, put on his denim jacket with a picture from a science museum of a wooly mammoth on the back, and now he was gone, talking with some local heavies in the industry at a 24 hour diner. The music was now on auto-replay as other deejays getting their feet wet on the scene tried out a few of their mixes, but the talent had left with Wooly, it seemed, and half the concrete floor was now mixed with people shouting over the techno music.

Jean leaned against the wall, watching her boyfriend Pat chatting it up with some teen wearing a pink wig. "Poser," she thought bitterly, but then realized that it didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore, and this seemed funny somehow. She first realized this when she wondered how she should give her things away, but she decided, "Fuck it," and knew that whatever would happen to her things would happen. Her stomach was nervous, but she was determined to take this next step, whatever it was, and not become victim of a warning that she heard from the tree as she placed the bottle with the crow feather in the crook of the tree next to her dorm.

"You can never go back, and you cannot show an ounce of regret," said the voice of some young girl in the breeze. "Your choice has been made. You will know what we know, you will do what we do... for eternity. But if your heart pangs in remorse at the change, if you visit those whom you once knew... you will suffer most horribly. You must show resolve, and never looks back."

"I do," she said, as she placed the bottle. "I do," seemed better than, "I will," for some reason she thought.

So tonight was the night. She looked at Pat and forgave him. She knew what he was now, and she knew what she had to do. She had always known he was an abusive prick with an Oedipus complex, but she could face it now. Before, she had kept it hidden. She didn't want to know, for some reason, and that seemed so petty now. She would leave, and he would be left behind. But he was useful for one last thing, now, and seeing him talk to that pretty little girl with a dumb smile and poser makeup was just too obvious to pass up.

She walked up to her and said, "Don't let him fool you... he's an abusive cunt who only fucks me because I remind him of mamma. If that scares you, run away now. Go home to your spoiled rich life, to your allowance from daddy, and live in your warm and happy shell... because this guy only wants you the same reason I like chewing gum: to freshen the ol' breath."

Pat's inner rage rose to a boil. "What are you DOING... here, Jean?"

"I came to dance with you. You are so boring. Now you're trying to charm some little teen like she was your--"

"OUTSIDE!" Pat yelled.

Jean's stomach clenched with anticipation. "Oh, no... we'll take it HERE! I don't DO take-out from you anymore!"

Pat grabbed her, and with muscular strength forged from years of built up rage, pulled her off balance towards the door. Jean slapped him across the face. She could feel his anger like a coming freight train. She would have NEVER dared to do this a month ago, hell, a week ago she was fretting about this moment. His eyes squinted and his teeth gritted. He imagined himself as an anime villain, about unleash furious and righteous anger, and that his stare was accompanied by a swelling of orchestral music, and not the techno-pop from a speaker just 10 feet behind him.

But he would keep calm. A thousand memories of losing his temper as a child and being mocked for it held back his rage like chains to a wild beast. He smoothed her long hair, and said, "Fine. You have to do what you have to do. That just way the... THE WAY... you have to be, then yes." His rage began to boil over, foaming into his speech center and screwing up his words. He had to remain calm. The knife in his pocket reminded him he was in control. His knife felt heavy in his pocket.

"I was with Jeff all night," he told the police 4 years ago. He had an airtight alibi. He had woven one together in less than 20 minutes as he stood over the body of his former girlfriend. He felt oddly peaceful and satiated as he realized he had finally hit her in the face so hard, she must have died within seconds. His muscles weren't even sore, and his body felt light and powerful like the shadows of his memory beating her again and again and again. Joy burbled from his gut as he remembered her screams, begging and pleading for him to stop. Again and again. Her teeth were smashed in, her nose broken, and each meaty thud to her face only seemed to make him stronger. He felt powerful and alive. He felt true joy for the first time finally snapping and beating his girlfriend as he grabbed her throat. She would die, and this was FUNNY. She wouldn't ever leave him now. No one would know she dumped him. No one would EVER know. She would be his FOREVER, and she would nag him, or make jokes about him to her little girly friends, and shame him when he couldn't satisfy her in a way that she demanded. No, now she was his. He OWNED her in memories. But he had to think fast. He was cool, and in control ... he was powerful, and his mind reacted like a trained circus performer. He had a friend he caught selling weed. He ran to his house, and threatened to tell him off to cops if he didn't say they had been together playing video games. Games all along. With his buddy Jeff. The investigation was so bungled, and added with the fact his girlfriend's parents didn't care for her all that much, made for an easy getaway. Pat's grades improved, and for the first time since he was a little kid, he felt in control. And to make sure Jeff didn't back out...

"Are you LISTENING TO ME?" asked Jean. Pat had got that look on his face again, like he was stoned or something. She couldn't even tell if it was in anger or thought. Maybe he just short circuited. "I am SO breaking up with you," she said. "That's it! That's the LAST straw. Go and screw that little tweenie for all I care! Go tell HER how much you love mamma!"

Pat's control was falling. As time had passed after his girlfriend's death, the energy and calmness he got from it also wore off, and when he graduated high school, he was as bad as ever. No prom date. Almost expelled for alcohol possession. If his mom hadn't have bailed him out... repeatedly. Wasn't he too old to be spanked? He never dared ask. He even kind of enjoyed it, which gave him mixed feelings he didn't want to deal with, but kept surfacing at the wrong times. His knife felt heavy in his pocket.

His eyes began to twitch. This can't be happening. This can't be right.

And then Jean walked away from him, and out the exit.

His stomach clenched. He turned pale, and began to sweat. "I can fix this," he thought. "I can fix this, like I fixed Jeff. No wait, I fixed Jeff with an overdose. But that wasn't my fault, right? He took it, right? He didn't ask me to kill him..." Pat followed Jean, not sure what was coming next.

The trio of dancers seemed to float back into the real world. The small girl said, "Donnabel. We're close." The lanky girl stopped dancing, and pouted. "I was having fun, Sad Fairy." Sad Fairy tapped the other girl, who stopped moving as gracefully as if she had planned the ending way in advance. It's time, she signed to her. The other girl nodded enthusiastically, and then signed back, has anything changed from our plan? "No, Harona. Same plan as always."

Can we get some donuts after this? signed Harona. I am starving. We can take... her if she wants. Harona waved her arms at the door Jean and Pat had just exited.

Donnabel winked at Sad Fairy. "Sounds like a plan!"

Sad Fairy roller her eyes and stamped her feet. "No... no donuts before ceremony. Besides, this one is going to be mes-SEEEE from what her eminence told me."

Harona wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue in disgust.

"Way to ruin a donut run," said Donnabel, adjusting her leg wraps.

"You guys should be honored we were even SELECTED for this one!" Sad Fairy said, but then smiled a little because it didn't sound any less stupid. Yeah, they were just a bunch of dumb, lucky assistants.

Do we have to carry her? asked Harona. I hate body runs because then no one can hear me.

"I can't hear you now," joked Sad Fairy. She covered her eyes with her hands. "I can't hear Harona... I can't hear Harona..."

"You are so cruel," said Donnabel, laughing at Harona trying to slap Sad Fairy's hands away.

"Hey!" said an older guy from the deejay booth, "We can't have kids in here! Hey, how old are you guys anyway? Don't look away! This is for adults only! HEY!"

Outside, Jean was pacing in the alley behind some storage units. "Show no regret," she whispered to herself in encouragement. "Show no regret or remorse. You can never go back." Her breath came out in clouds in the cold night air.

"Hey!" shouted Pat. "Where do you think you're going?"

"It's over, Pat," she said. "I am not taking abuse from you anymore, I am not taking other women from you anymore and just sit by and pretend things are okay. I am 21, and an adult, Pat. You're... 31 and creepy. Some... some man-boy creep. It's OVER!" she took off her ring, a ring she got when they first dated, and like some bad movie, threw it at his feet.

"Aw, come on..." said Pat, but Jean Just laughed. She laughed because she felt so free. She laughed because she finally understood. Pat thought she was laughing because she was being silly. "Ha ha ha..." said, "Okay... I'm sorry I talked to that girl... is my little cookie a jealous cookie?"

"No no..." Jean laughed. She thought even his breath cloud looked desperate. "You totally don't get it. I am DUMPING you. And it feels GREAT! My life will go on without you, and this will open doors, and I am going to do great things and you'll... you'll just be some forgotten memory, or an anecdote I tell my daughter someday."

"But you said you never wanted children!" Pat started to feel like he was slipping away. The whole "be nice" thing wasn't working. She wasn't bending or feeling sorry for him. She wasn't taking CARE of him!

"Not with you! Oh, Pat... I have been planning this for a MONTH and ---"

"PLEASE!" Pat cried out. This can't be happening, he thought. Not again. No!

"Pat, don't be upset. Don't even fight it. It's over. It HAS to end this way. But instead of you dumping me, I have dumped you."

"NOOO!" he screamed. His temper began to flair. "NO NO!!" His knife felt heavy in his pocket.

"See? Like some toddler who can't keep his temper. What are you going to do, beat me again? I am through with this, Pat. I am going to get a restraining order on you. I am telling the police everything, and you can sleep with little Miss Pinky Wig in there, and maybe she will..."

"NO!!!" Pat screamed, and he rushed her. She did not run away. She just stood there, and smiled, which made him even more furious. Like when that one girl laughed at him. That one girl. His hot breath steamed in the air in front of him and curled around Jean's smiling face. His knife felt heavy in his pocket.

"And you... can't... stop me," punctuated Jean to Pat's face as a cloud of breath fogged his vision, much like his mother's cigarette smoke did when he was being punished as a child.

We're just in time, signed Harona from behind a dumpster. Sad Fairy and Donnabel nodded. They had seen a few of these before, and each one was different.

Pat was never quite sure what made him grab the knife, but he pulled at the blade with the side of his hand, and in one thumb flick opened the folding lockback, a gift from his father, and plunged it straight into Jean's collarbone.

Jean didn't know what to expect. There was pain, penetration, and a warm feeling as her aorta spilled into her body and spurted into her face. Memories flickered before her eyes.

She watched as one of the tarot cards on her deck showed Pat enveloping her in a cloak, and watched as blood pooled around his feet. The old woman pointed at the card and said, "In one month, your boyfriend will kill you. But there is hope. A kind of... afterlife. More of a 'between-life,' you might call it. As you no doubt have gathered, I represent a group of people who guard things. We rescue people from death and use them to guard the many gateways of your world. We are the hidden. We are the occult. We are the guardians of this world and others."

Jean collapsed to the ground. Was the whole feather-in-the-bottle thing fake?

Pat looked at his blood-soaked hand and his face was mixed with desperation. Should he stab her again? Run? What about an alibi?

Jean grew weak as the blood poured from her wound. She placed her hand against the gaping hole by her neck, and was surprised she felt no regret. She actually felt a little... lightheaded. And that thought seemed VERY funny. "Go you, Jean," she thought, "I am losing gallons of blood, and complain about being lightheaded! Why didn't I donate blood when I had the chance? Me afraid of a needle, and look at me now! Donating like a fuckin' FOUNTAIN!" As she laughed, blood gurgled from her mouth and nose. She snorted because of all the blood, and THAT seemed even funnier. "I'm a bleeding dork!" she tried to say, but she found she couldn't breathe anymore. Then she saw three dark figures walk towards her, and wondered, "I wonder if they'll take me out for donuts?"

Pat didn't know why this bleeding corpse in front of him was giggling and snorting. This wasn't right. Maybe he had to stab her again, but as he raised his knife, an iron grip clamped down on his forearm, and he felt a sheer sense of panic.

"No no," said Donnabel softly. "Not the face."

Ironic, signed Harona, considering what you did to that guy back there.

"I hear whistling in the air," said Sad Fairy, bending down and looking at Jean's pale form in a pool of blood. "That must mean Harona's flapping her arms around about SOMEthing..."

"She's still grossed out from what I did to Mr. Authority Figure back there," Donnabel mentioned as she twisted Pat's forearm a little to look at his face. "Look at THIS guy. Yeesh."

"I was saving... her!" Pat stammered. His whole world was collapsing and the tinitus in his ears was screaming. He was panicking so bad, he nearly lost all bowel control.

"Hey!" Sad Fairy shouted at Jean, poking her with an extended finger. "HEY YOU! You dead?"

Such a sense of humor, said Harona, shaking her head.

"Come ON!" Sad Fairy shoved Jean's limp body. "Harona here doesn't want to carry you. She's lazy, but, hey, what are you gonna do?"

"Can I get rid of this guy?" asked Donnabel. She had been gripping Pat's arm so tightly, it was bleeding and turning purple.

"Yeah yeah," Sad Fairy said and waved Donnabel and Pat away. "Just get him as far away from here as quickly as you can... his face is all creepy."

Donnabel twisted Pat's arm in such a way that the knife fell from his hands and clattered into Jean's pool of blood, now mixing with a puddle of water and oil in the alley. "You're a guy," she said cheerfully. "You like football?" Her voice was lilted like one would speak while reading children's books.

Pat nodded dumbly. He didn't like football, but he didn't feel like arguing with the strange lady with the big chin.

"I call this a field goal!" said Donnabel, and just as Harona raised her arms to signal a field goal kick, Donnabel swung one leg back and punted Pat to hard in the crotch, it shattered his pelvis and severed his spine near his kidneys upon impact. The sudden force flipped him high into the air, where he spun like a gymnast until he landed in a dumpster, amid some cardboard boxes and a some broken furniture. Harona signed, touchdown!

"Okay he's gone now, you can get up!" shouted Sad Fairy.

Jean did not move.

"We got the right girl, right?" asked Donnabel.

"Oh, this is the right girl, alright. Ms. Bleedy-pants McLazy. Come on, girl! We don't have all DAY!"

"Er, Sad fairy... ix-nay on the ed-day ody-bay!" Donnabel pointed to some people coming down the alley.

"Oh for the love of..."

But Harona moved with an incredible burst of speed that it sprayed water and blood from the mixed puddle. Her blurred form darted like shadows and before the people knew it, they were confronted by an angry figure with a huge tongue-less mouth lined with razor-sharp fangs, and two huge curved daggers poised from hands like a viper's fangs. Harona's layers of aprons opened like the gills of a fish, exposing layers of bright red tissue and serrated blades.

"Shit!" one all of them said, and all three men ran the other way.

"You should never piss off the quiet ones," said Donnabel.

Hardy har har, mouthed Harona and she smoothed down her aprons and sheathed her daggers. And what's this fetish you have with men's sports? she signed after she poked around her gums to get her lips straight again.

"WAKEY WAKEY!!!" Sad Fairy continued with Jean's body, shaking it so the gaping wound on her neck flapped open and closed with a moist sucking sound.

Suddenly Jean coughed and sputtered. Blood got all over Sad Fairy's taffeta skirt, and she leapt back with a reflexive, "EWWWW GROSSS!!! God DAMMIT! I HATE messy retrievals!"

Jean's vision came back into focus, and in front of her was a small girl wiping off her skirt and striped stockings, while a tall and lanky girl came over with another girl who looked a little like a gothic Holly Hobbie. She tried to say something, but all that came out were gasps and sputters of more blood.

"Cough it up, Hon," said Donnabel. "That gash cut into your windpipe, but we can fix that with some heavy duty thread or something. You're gonna be hoarse all the time, though."

Small price to pay... signed Harona with a wistful look.

"Yeah, someone cut her tongue out in 1860. It helps if you understand sign language, but not much."

Harona made an unmistakable sign of rebellion.

"Little Miss Roosevelt here things she's all high and mighty because she was poisoned," said Sad Fairy as she twisted her hips like a dog trying to shake off water. "Gaaah... there's blood in my LACE and JACKET and ... aaaw, my SHIRT!"

"Sorry..." croaked Jean.

"Well... yeah. Not your fault. Okay, who's up for a walk back to Lady Sarcastia's mausoleum? Those halfway between dead and alive, raise their hands."

"Not YOU, Pat!" said Donnabel to the distant dumpster.

I don't think he's alive, Donnabel. I heard that crunch in my own pelvis, said Harona, crossing her legs and wincing.

Jean was surprised she could stand up. Her collarbone sure felt funny, though. And her sticky blood was drying on everything.

"How do you feel?" asked Donnabel.

Jean thought... and smiled. "You know," she croaked, "not too bad. I mean, it hurts a little... but... I, uh... feel fine. Kind of lightheaded, but fine." She thought some more, and and then added, "I... uh, I feel like having coffee and donuts."

Sad Fairy rolled her eyes as she felt Donnabel's smug grin burn into her back.
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So far Untitled - Chapter 2: A Journey

The last few miles of the journey seemed the longest. Almost everyone was silent in the early morning air. They say it's always darkest just before the dawn, but Jean didn't think this was exactly true. The air turned a deep blue which faded quickly to light orange. But that seemed moot because Jean's spine was in terrible pain, and everyone seemed to think that was funny.

She had been walking for hours, but it wasn't all walking. There was some running as their forms darted across empty highways, some climbing over fences and walls, and then there was the subway.

"I thought the subway closed after midnight around here?" she asked as they approached a station.

"That's the best part," laughed Sad Fairy, who patted her in the middle of Jean's back in a patronizing manner, "no trains!"

It was amazing how close all of them passed people who acted as if nothing was there at all. Donnabel called it, "camouflage by disassociation," or "basically, we disguise ourselves as somebody else's problem. Kind of a Ninja-like skill, but not exactly..." Just one of the many new skills Jean would have to learn.

As they jogged in the darkness of the subway tunnels, passing by underground station to underground station, Jean realized that, for a girl who had no blood, she didn't seem very tired. In fact, she also found she had almost perfect night vision and a strange sense of things around her. In addition, she seemed abnormally light, and could jump higher, run faster, and do tricks off of walls like a gymnast.

"These are skills you were reborn with. You have inherited the spirits of the Gate Keepers before you," Sad Fairy explained, with a tone in her voice like she wanted Jean to shut up. But when she stopped talking, Donnabel would fill her in, or pick her up when she tripped trying some new trick.

But Jean didn't like having a gaping hole in her collarbone. First, she had to hold it shut with her hand when she wanted to say anything without croaking or gurgling. Second, she kept sucking in things wrong, making her cough and choke. Finally, she just got used to keeping her hand there and speaking like she had laryngitis.

"How did you die?" Jean asked at one point. All three made a hissing sound with their teeth.

"We do not speak of the past," Donnabel said.

"It makes us remember. And with memories, sometimes there is regret. Regret will turn us to dust."

Or stone... Harona signed, but no one buy Sad Fairy saw her.

"But if you must know, I died by drinking poison," said Donnabel, making Sad Fairy cringe. "I was a society matron, wealthy family, heard too much, and I had a choice of killing myself or be killed."

"She talks too much, too." Sad Fairy said. "That's why Lady Sarcastia gave her that choice."

Donnabel shrugged. "I like it better as a Gate Keeper. Much more interesting. Harona here died a while back. She was brought to status by the woman who brought Lady Sarcastia over. Lady Vapora of Baltimore."

"Stupid cow," grumbled Sad Fairy.

"Why can't Harona talk?"

Harona walked backwards in front of Jean, and made signs in anger.

"She CAN talk, you imbecile," Sad Fairy said with disgust. "Can't you see her? Or does your dark vision fail you?"

"I am sorry, I... I didn't mean..."

"No, you didn't THINK. There's a difference. What you wanted to ask is, why doesn't she use her voice... idiot."

They walked a while in silence, when suddenly Donnabel whispered into Jean's ear, "Remember? Her tongue was cut out. Just so you know not to mention THAT ever again."

Jean was pretty quiet after that as the subway stations zoomed past them. Even though they were walking, it was more of a skip-step-bounce, like dance-walking on an inflatable carnival attraction. Jean wondered if they were really moving at speeds that would exceed the trains that normally use the tunnels. Sometimes, a train would come, and they would have to squeeze flat against the wall at the empty cars roared past.

After a long journey from station to station, they exited at an outdoor platform, climbed a fence, and walked along a highway. Cars passed them from time to time. Jean noticed that her breath did not fog the cold night air. She tried hard not to think about what she had done. The adrenaline, or whatever replaced it, was ebbing from her mind, and as she listened to the pattern of her feet against the gravel of the road, she started to feel a sense of doubt... about doubting. She forced feelings of regret from her mind, but she had this... need to keep talking so she didn't think. She made a small laugh to herself, remembering an incident back in high school when she accused a cheerleader of the same thing. She absently kicked at a tire when suddenly, her leg was under attack.

"Oh, Christ!" shouted Sad fairy as she tried to grab what looked like part of an old tire from Jean's leg. Donnabel and Harona also made a grab for the creature, but it slithered up Jean's back and perched on her head, making horrible growling noises.

"Shiante!" shouted Donnabel.

"No shit, Sherlock. HOLD STILL!" shouted Sad Fairy.

For what seemed like several minutes, the three circled her while the creature hissed and spit at them like an angry alley cat. Several cars passed, casting angles of light and shadow on the four of them.

"What... is ... it?" asked Jean through frozen teeth. She was glad she instinctively covered the hole near her neck before she was told to stay still because she feared the thing would try and crawl into her chest to make a nest.

"Shiante," Sad Fairy said quickly, "A sort of road spirit, hangs around ley lines. Very dangerous. A kind of spirit that sits by the side of the roads, doing whatever they do. You must have kicked or stepped on it. One that size could tear apart your head in seconds! In fact, I am surprised you still have all your limbs. Just... don't... move..."

Donnabel looked at Sad Fairy. "What do we do?"

"I don't know... I... uh... have never had to remove one from something that wasn't already destroyed. Usually you just have something breathe flame on them to piss them off, and then they run away. But lacking a dragon or a flame thrower... not to mention what Lady Sarcastia would think if we brought this package back on a kebab... I don't know."

We could wait until dawn. They hate the sun. Harona suggested. Then she had a thought, and stepped away while no one was looking.

"What happens to US in sunlight?" asked Jean suddenly.

"Your skin turns to paper, and starts to burn off of you. You brain boils, and the last few minutes of agonizing pain are punctuated by teeth exploding in your head like popcorn." Sad Fairy said. "We may have to leave you here..."

Jean whimpered.

"Oh, dry up, I'm only kidding. Christ, if the sun did that to us, we'd NEVER get anything done. We're not vampires you dumb f—"

Suddenly, a Mac truck came barreling down upon them, horns honking. For a brief second, there was light, sound, and Jean spun end over end. Then all she saw was the light orange of thin clouds that appear at dawn from between some tangled weeds. She checked herself. Was she hit by a truck? Her head felt remarkably Shiante-free. She tenderly reached up and patted her hair band.

"That was a close one. Nice save, Harona," said Donnabel.

Two loud honks sounded in reply.

"Where's the package?" asked Sad Fairy.

Jean sat up and blinked.

"Oh, there. Get out of there, you dork! People pee in that ditch!"

Jean struggled out of the ditch, and wiped off weeds and piece of paper that stuck to her jacket. "Well..." she said. And then just left that unfinished thought hang in the air. She looked around, and saw the trio standing around and dusting themselves off. The dust cloud was still thin in the air from the near miss of the experience. The cars were coming more frequently now.

"Harona just hijacked a Mac truck with her mind control," said Donnabel, her voice high with excitement. "But then she let it go..."

"Let's cross here," Sad Fairy said.

"Why don't we have a car?" asked Jean.

"Too noticeable, and besides, they only work on roads." And to make her point, when they crossed the road, immediately all of them began to scale a huge cement wall like insects.

Jean hesitated, could she scale that wall?

"She can't climb this yet," Donnabel said, and like a leaping spider, she jumped from the wall and into the grass right in front of Jean. With one swoop, suddenly, Jean was airborne. It felt great for about 3 second, and then she hit about 20 branches, a few tree trunks, and fell, spine-first, onto an abandoned washing machine.

"Mother FUCKER!" screamed Jean as she rolled off the rusted appliance into the grass.

"That's more like it. I didn't know if she COULD swear..."

Donnabel grabbed Jean and sat her upright. "She's fine. The trees broke her fall.

"That was SO UNCOOL!!" screamed Jean into the crisp morning air.

"Oh, we're uncool. We should have left you back there to... no, left with the Shiante, back there. Made a nice hat for your fat HEAD!"

"Come on Sad Fairy," said Donnabel. "She's almost passed over. I am sure she's a little freaked. Why are you so mean to her?"

Even Harona nodded in agreement. You're still upset about the Half-breed, aren't you?

"Why don't you two just shut up?"

"I don't have to shut up, Sad Fairy." Donnabel said, standing up to look down on Sad Fairy's huge dark eyes. "You're not REALLY our boss, you know. What has gotten into you lately? You owe everyone here, package included, an apology for your immature rudeness."

Harona stood with Donnabel, and for a moment, it looked like they were going to fight. Then Sad Fairy backed down, and looked at Jean. "Sorry. Okay? Sorry." And with that she stomped off.

"Where is she going now?" asked Donnabel, picking up Jean with one strong hand, and dragging her with them.
---------------------

So far Untitled - Chapter 3: Transformation

A lone, thin figure in the dark sipped her bottled orange soda from a straw at the corner of her mouth.  She was looking over a strange and ratty brown paperback book called, "The Art of Taoist Poetry."  She shook her head, and put it back in a leather backpack.  Her folding lawn chair creaked and cracked as she moved.

Lady Sarcastia was short, thin, and had a head that could almost be described as a cube.  Her short, raven-black hair hung just below her ears and curled inwards just slightly.  Two greased curls pasted to her temples accented the corner of her eyes, which themselves were outlined with the shape of an ankh.  Her wrinkled, yet angular face, almost pure while, was stark in contrast to her deep blue eyes and shiny black lips.  In one thin, bony hand she had a lit cigarette on the end of a long holder, and the other went back to her bottle of orange soda.  She was wearing a black 1920s flapper-era outfit that was both elegant and fun, but her white skin was mostly covered with a lace shawl that was so large, it bordered on being a cape.

Around her were stone statues of various angels and devils, with a motif the suggested both medieval and renaissance in its mood.  Around her were various alcoves in which each one lone man stood, pale faced and in a peasant's shirt, gripping their swords to their chests, pointed downwards.  Each chiseled chin of these men had seen countless eras come and go, for these old guardians were older than civilization itself.  The peasant garb was the former owner's idea, a motif that Lady Sarcastia kept for familiarity's sake.  

A cold wind howled through the cracks mausoleum, bring with them smells of morning in the cemetery; mildew, fallen leaves, moist stone, and car exhaust, because she was only a few hundred feet away from a freeway.  The white noise that made the morning commute seemed to wash out any lingering sounds of the night, and did nothing to improve Lady Sarcastia's mood.

People were late.

HER people.

She was done pacing.  Her feet ached, and she rubbed her boots in a vain attempt to soothe her feet. 

"The tell you when you turn, you no longer feel pain," she said to one of the guardians, "they LIE!"

"Lady Sarcastia?" asked a voice coming in through the only entrance to the stone room.

"Yes, what is it?  Have they returned?"

"No ma'am," said the young woman.  "But I have a package for you."

Package.  The term meant so much more to the Gate Keepers.  A package was something you protected, whether you could carry it or not.  It could be a jewel-encrusted dagger, priceless and rare.  It could be a gateway to unknown lands, or it could be a parchment with foretold the secrets if one were to boil certain herbs under the full moon at a certain obelisk.  Or, it could be a plastic soda bottle with a black feather in it.  Such things had different value in a Gate Keeper's world.

But this package came in a wooden box.  The decorations were Norse, and had medieval carvings of lions and bears fighting holy Christian knights.  

"Thank you, Meggar.  Who delivered it?"

"I... I do not know.  I know it wasn't M..."  Meggar paused and bit her lip.

"Do not speak that name in my presence," said Lady Sarcastia.  "If she returns... ever... she will not come in a small wooden box.  No.  She will come in a cyclone of holy terror and destruction.  No, I think this package comes from Lord Hoarfrost from Vistiby."

She opened the box, and inside were a series of thick cards which moved slightly as if under their own power.  She rapidly closed it and smiled.  "Yes..." she said, "Yes, this will do quite nicely.  Go and tell Master Jason the twin has arrived.

"The... twin?"

"Why must I be questioned as if I speak through a bushy mustache, YES, the TWIN."  The placed the box on a folding card table next to her.  "He will know what it means.  Now be off.  And if you see any stray... children... wandering around... send them trick or treating to me..."

"Yes, milady..." said Meggar, who bowed repeatedly as she walked backwards through the entrance and out of sight.

"I ask for so little," she said to another still guardian, "and I get even less."

She waited for a while, kicking her leg over the armrest of the lawn chair.  It was covered with a bed sheet, but you could still tell her throne was a lawn chair quite easily.  Her leg rocked back and forth, almost making it appear as if her knee was creaking. She sighed several times, very impatiently, and was about to stomp around the room in disgust, when she heard what sounded like to her ears a braying donkey.

"We can't ALL fit in there, surely?" said the voice. 

Lady Sarcastic was pleased once she recognized the voice, but still angry that it was not early enough in the morning to not hear rush hour outside.  It was the young lady from the coffee shop.

"Just go in.  It's bigger on the inside than the outside.  You'll see."

"Donnabel's voice," Lady Sarcastia thought.  "Eleanor Snoozivelt."  She briefly thought back to the older days, when radio was king, and Donnabel's nosy mannerisms and constant yip-yapping that got her into so much trouble.  "Still," she said, "better on my side than another."  She fell silent when she realized she was talking to herself again, but turned to face a guardian

"Just GO!" said the urgent voice of Sad Fairy,  which made Lady Sarcastia sigh in pity as she remembered a poor girl, beaten to death on Halloween, right before her eighth birthday.  "Harona, watch your aprons, you nearly opened up the bag!  OH, see?  What a mess..."

The bag.  Lady Sarcastia knew what had delayed them.

"I take it that the Ceremony of Crossing is less important than donuts and coffee...?" she said as the four of them entered the chamber.

Harona still had crumbs around her mouth.  Sad Fairy was holding a spilling plastic bag of donuts behind her back, while the tall figure of Donnabel was drinking the dribbling remnants of a 3 gallon pitcher box of coffee like a thirsty hunter gulps from a canteen.  Jean was staring, slightly confused, right at Lady Sarcastia, as she tried to wipe away the wet stain of coffee that had dribbled from a hole across her collarbone.

That would not do.

"BOW YOUR HEAD!" she hollered in a voice that sucked the air from the room and wrapped around her like a vortex, swirling her shawl around her head.

All of the girls collapsed to the floor in respect, except Jean, who burped and giggled.  "YOU are Lady Sarcastia?"

"Young lady... I advise..." she started in stern tones, and then paused in realization, "... you're drunk!"

"All... all I had was coffee, honest!" Jean burped again.  "See?  Look!" she showed off the scar across her neck, which was now sewed together with fishing wire.  "Harona... she... she sewed it all up!  An' that's the TRUTH!"

"You girls gave her coffee?  She... the women's got no blood!  What little brain juice she has is pickled with caffeine and sugar!"  Lady Sarcastia was amazed, and wasn't sure whether to turn her shock into anger or laughter.

Jean continued, even though her eyes were closed and she was weaving.  "I died today!  No, it was sooo cool.  Like Pat, he's my dumpster boyfriend... no... wait [giggle]... I mean, he's my boyfriend now in a dumpster, not that I found him there, but Donnabwe... Donna bwe... man, I can't say her name.  Anyway, DONNA... she kicking him like THIS!" and kicked a shoe far into the air, which landed on a guardian who brushed away the china flat like stray leaf.

Lady Sarcastia always wondered, at times like this, if she should have just died of old age.  It seemed that ever since the ... recent incident... that everything was falling apart.  First the move, then all her assistants started finding elsewhere to be.  She wrinkled her mouth in indecision, but managed to make it look like a scowl.  "Child... bow... your... head..."  She pressed the top of Jean's head down to the floor, forcing her in a kneeling position, which did not frighten her.  In fact, she seemed oblivious.

"You're much meaner in p-person.  I thought you were one of those crazy cat ladies when I read your tarot, b-but I was wrong!  Don't be mean to me, I have had a hard day..."

Lady Sarcastia kept Jean's head down and forced her into a kneeling bow.  "As Lady Sarcastia of Alexandria, Keeper of the Gates of the Chesapeake and Beyond, I now start this most holy of ceremonies, despite your condition, for if this is not done by sundown... you will return to your mortal coil, as dead as any girl who has no blood."

The air turned dark.  Lady Sarcastia tipped her cigarette holder on it's end, and blew onto the red embers until it turned a bright blue.  The air grew cold, and the stone columns in the room creaked under the sudden temperature change.  What little light there was left in the room turned blue, and glowing symbols started to appear on the floor.

"As you were once mortal... and mortals can die... you shall be neither in the realm of the Gate Keepers."

The symbols began to issue a cold mist, and fine silver treads began to weave behind Lady Sarcastia.  They were straight threads, but at a slightly different angle, and they all intersected in such a way, they formed a circle like a dreamweaver.  The air started to turn hazy, and small symbols floated about the room, obscuring the walls and enveloping everyone in a bluish white fog.

"For eons, our kind have walked this dimension to keep the Crossers at bay, to prevent the Walkers from bringing things back with them, and to keep the balance of the living and the dead in perfect keel.  The air is thick with the spirits of those Gate Keepers that have passed before you."

No one noticed Sad Fairy has raised her head, and was peering in the mist among the many faces that floated and intermixed with one another.  Maybe... no.  No, the face she was looking for was not there.  The face she was looking for was not dead, but lost.  A betrayer, she was.

Harona reached put and rubbed Sad fairy's lower back.  She knew what Sad Fairy was looking for, but this gently reminded Sad Fairy to lower her head before Lady Sarcastia snapped at them again.

Jean stopped giggling for the moment, as she felt sleepy.  She wondered if her kind sleeps?  She wondered if she'd get a manual or something.  Maybe a series of pamphlets.  The only thing that kept her from giggling at that thought was the fear of breaking ceremony.  Even though her brain was withering in her skull from all the sugar and caffeine, it knew this was serious business.

Lady Sarcastia reached into her backpack and pulled out a chalice, a book, and a plastic water bottle that contained a black feather.

"You must know that you still have the option to die.  You must, but sheer will and loyalty--"

<I>That's what went wrong,</I> Donnabel thought, <I>the Half-Breed did not pledge loyalty.</I>

<I>Yes... she did... </I> said a voice in her ear, which scared Donnabel so bad, she forced herself to believe she was hearing thing and she bowed even deeper to the floor so her knees and back hurt.

"Gone is you name... what was your full name during life?" asked Lady Sarcastia.

"I was..." Jean paused.  What was it?  "I... I think I was called... Package.  Something.  Package McLazy?"

Lady Sarcastia smiled.  "Thank you, Sad Fairy..." she said with enough subtle praise that reassured the trio Lady Sarcastia would take no further punishments for being late... stopping for food.... or killing Pat... or turning the guy's face at the techno place upside down, forcing him to the emergency room and disfiguring him for life.

The air began to crackle and sing like high voltage wires.  The woven circle behind Lady Sarcastia's back opened to another dimension, where a figure in shimmering blue light projected its consciousness into their world.  Lady Sarcastia stepped aside, and pulled the Package up.  She handed her the bottle with the black feather and said, "By offering this gift to the collected souls of the Gate Keeper consciousness, you will hereby renounce your mortal status, and become the servant of the Gate Keepers.  Do you offer this gift?"

"I do," the Package said, and handed the shimmering force the bottle, which turned into a scroll made of deep blue paper.

"Do you offer your soul to the Gate Keeper consciousness, to become one with it, for all eternity?"

"I do," the Package said.

"Do you renounce all former connections with all things, living, dead, or otherwise... from this world to become one of the unspoken guardians?"

"I do," the Package said.

"Do you promise to uphold the secrets in exchange to the collected knowledge of all Gate Keepers?"

"I do," the Package said.

"Choose your name..."

"I... I..."  the Package looked at Lady Sarcastia.

"I cannot choose your name.  You must do so.  Apparently SOMEBODY forgot to mention that fact.  I don't think she chose HER name wisely, either."

Sad Fairy flinched, and her stomach twisted slightly.  There was a time when she was at this gate... a time when... the white room... the hospital... the fatal blows... "she's dead... we have a murder case now if we can find the father."  No regrets.  No turning back.  Sad Fairy closed her eyes tightly.  Her name was not poorly chosen because it was hard to say, or seemed slightly childish... it was... just... too close to another name from her past... No regrets.  No turning back...

"I want to be known as... Marideath," and with that, she grabbed the cigarette in its holder as offered by Lady Sarcastia, and Marideath signed her new name on the blue parchment, which was surprisingly soft and more cloth-like than she expected.

"Marideath has been born!" announced Lady Sarcastia.  She rubbed the edge of the chalice with the tip of her finger, causing it to ring and vibrate.  "Now, drink of the Cup of Knowledge, and peer at your new face."

Marideath picked up the bowl, which was filled with a sweet blue syrup, and drank from it.  She was going to take a ceremonial sip, but once the taste touched her tongue, she could not stop herself from taking greedy gulps.  The chalice refilled itself, but not fast enough as Marideath inhaled the liquid, filling her veins with her new blood.  Her pallid skin puffed out as she slurped and licked the bowl of the chalice, greedily whining for more like a starving puppy.  The cigarette fell from her hand, and as Lady Sarcastia picked it up, she watched the voracious feeding with a little surprise.  

"Dear Lord..." she said out of an old habit.

The trio that was kneeled looked up in surprise.  Harona's tongueless mouth opened in surprise, exposing the bright red gills inside.  She, too, was feeling the thirst in sympathy.  Donnabel looked at the empty coffee carton on the floor and winced as her mouth went dry.

"Mmmm... mm... more.  MORE!  WHY ISN'T THE CHALICE GIVING ME MORE?????"  Marideath whined.  Her mouth felt bone dry, and she just kept licking at the moist bowl, hoping for a mouthful of liquid.

"Marideath, that's the Cup of Knowledge.  You can't take it in one gulp!"

"I HAVE TO FEED!!!" she screamed, and everyone turned to the Gate Keeper consciousness for advice.  The mist formed a huge breast, and Marideath dropped the chalice on the floor with a loud clatter attached herself to the nipple almost before it was finished forming.  Blue liquid dribbled from her mouth and she greedily sucked, making childlike cooing noises.

"Okay... THAT'S new!" said Sad Fairy.

"I have never seen the Gate Keeper consciousness do that..." Donnabel whispered, for she had a feeling she was witnessing a powerful sacrament.

Lady Sarcastia smiled.  "Only a few are offered.  Many become... Ladies."

"She's going to be a Lady... like you?"

Lady Sarcastia smiled.  "Maybe.  Someday, after a loooong journey.  I suspect it's because of her ability with the tarot that she needs so much."

<I>How much liquid can her body take?</i> asked Harona.  She noticed that Marideath was starting to burst at the seams.  She was dripping blue liquid from her mouth and neck wound alike.

Soon, Marideath grew sleepy, and although she angrily tried to keep feeding, she quickly fell into a deep slumber, and was slowly lowered to the floor by the Gate Keeper consciousness.  There she lay, her blue-soaked lips still reflexively suckling, her clothes soaked and glistening in the blue mist.

"While it seems redundant to say this," Lady Sarcastia said, tapping a book with her cigarette, "you have been accepted by Gate Keeper consciousness... and we have four witnesses... et cetera, et cetera... by the power granted to me, I pronounce you Gate Keeper Acolyte."

The mist parted, the Gate Keeper consciousness faded back into the gate, the gate faded, and within a few minutes, the distant sounds of the morning rush hour filled the mausoleum.

"Girls," Lady Sarcastia asked, "help me get M... Marideath, was it?  Yes, Marideath.  Help me get Marideath to her new home.  Afterwards, I have a new Package for you to guard..."
------------------------------
So far Untitled - Chapter 4: The Mall

"I don't care if were not SUPPOSED to talk about her, but we can't just keep her out of our thoughts.  She's been all our friend at one time or another..."  Donnabel looked at Sad Fairy's blank expression.  "... some more than others."

<I>I still can't believe she betrayed us... but I guess we all knew that she wasn't really one of us,</i> Harona signed as she chewed on one of her long braids.  She had recently redone them with purple lace trimmed in silver, but no one seemed to notice, which currently kind of made her a little mad.

"Maybe we're not supposed to mention her name because it's bad luck!" Sad Fairy hissed under her breath.

"Oh, yes... we're just full of superstitions, aren't we?" Donnabel shouted, but then stopped herself, because they were supposed to be innocuous.  She continued under her breath, "Maybe some people don't want to face the fact they weren't as much friends as they thought they were.  I never heard of a demon making friends, why should a half-demon be any different?"

"She was Half-Human, too!  Didn't you know?"

Donnabel nodded.  "Yeah... yeah, I knew that, too.  Which means she had a conscience.  I just can't imagine... well... " she stopped and sighed in frustration.

"You talking about that girl who killed those teenagers?" asked a voice from above.

All three jerked in shock.  It was Nathan.  The guy who worked at Cinnicookie.  The reason he was close by was Cinnicookie was just down the hall.

"I got you some churros ... and there is some cookie dough for Harona there..."  Harona's big mouth beamed a wide smile of delight.  Nathan stepped down into the small pit to where the trio was sitting under some stairs.  "Hey, don't you have school or something?"

"We're emancipated," Donnabel said, and snatched the bag.  Harona quickly found the small plastic bundle of cookie dough in wax paper and began to chow down.  Donnabel offered the bag to Sad Fairy who did not acknowledge the bag, despite Donnabel shaking it in front of her several times.  Finally, she shrugged and started on a churro.

Nathan was human, and did not know any more of his visitors other than they accessional came to the mall where he worked.  Nathan was typical goth as far as humans knew, and assumed the same of the trio, but his wily sense of questions led Sad Fairy to suspect he'd be a good candidate for Crossing... if Lady Sarcastia accepted men.  His Chuck Taylors were also wrapped with duct tape, and he wiggled them with Harona's shoes to compare.  He wore black, but the green apron that had a fat guy shouting "Cinnicookie Call!!!" kind of spoiled the effect, and puffs of flour-like dust only made him look like a baker who just returned from a funeral.

Harona's eyes lit from the sugar, and she had started kicking her feet from the small lounge chair from which the trio sat in a lobby pit under the stairs.  She hummed to herself a tune she knew... from 1912 or so.

"So ah... you just hanging out?"  Nathan asked.  He sensed Sad Fairy was upset.  In fact, the whole goth community seemed to be affected after those murders.  Even worse, they were under more scrutiny.  Nathan's boss told him to stop wearing eye makeup, and he saw some former goth kids wearing other colors because their parents forced them to.  "You look so cute in Lavender!"  "Oh, MOTHER!  Gaaah!"

"Yeah, hanging out..." Sad Fairy said as a distant reply.  Her hands wandered to the bag in Donnabel's lap, and Donnabel quickly pushed the bag towards Sad Fairy so she could get in on some of the sugary goodness.

"Hey, the boss has some problems at home, and left about an hour ago... so if you want to hang out in the back or something... as long as customers can't see you, it's okay.  I am just so bored.  No one comes in after lunch on Tuesdays.  We can play some Slanted Circle or Pack of Savages over the speakers.  That's close enough to organs music to... not be noticed."  Nathan watched Harona get more and more wired.  She also started moving her head around so her braids would start a dual windmill motion.

"Thanks, but no thanks..." Sad Fairy said.  "We have to keep an eye on... things."

"Okay," Nathan said, his face screwed up in confusion, but exaggerated it enough to maybe pass on his desperation. "I gotta ... you know, get back to the store."

"Bye," said Donnabel with a sweet smile.  Harona waved enthusiastically like she was saying goodbye to someone on a cruise ship.

"I positively HATE this package," Sad Fairy grumbled.

"Well, the usual crew have been assigned something else for a few days, and we just have to sit here and make sure nobody gets in... and nobody gets out.  And Nathan gives us free sugar, which is kind of keen."  Donnabel took another healthy bite from her churro while Sad Fairy looked at hers like she was trying to resist, but compromised by putting it in her mouth and sucking on it.

The package in question was underneath the mall, and the only entrance was through a video game arcade which was directly across from their position under the stairs.  Through a combination of distraction and staying out of the path of security cameras, the trio could stay all day and night in this location, although the boredom after a few days was excruciating.  Sad Fairy wanted silence,  Donnabel wanted to talk about EVERYTHING, and Harona just added comments here and there.  Sometimes Nathan would come by and say hello, which irked Sad Fairy because somehow he was immune to their camouflage and she KNEW he wasn't anything more than a human with negligent parents.  He just had a knack, which were often one of the signs for recruitment for Gate Keeping, but Nathan was still too easily freaked out.  So there they had been for the last few days, bored and agitated.

"Hey, spooky faces..." said a familiar voice.  It was Genegrieve, Lady Sarcastia's own message girl.

"So, Marideath is still asleep?" asked Donnabel.

"Yeah, yeah... but we'll get to that a little later.  First... let me have a churro!"  Donnabel handed her the bag, and Genegrieve grabbed several in a greedy handful.  "Yeah, thanks.   MMmmm!  They are still warm!  Oh my God, if it wouldn't kill him, I'd so sleep with Nathan for his sugar supply.  OH, HAVEN!!"

Sad Fairy sighed.  "News from home?"

Genegrieve wolfed the remnants of her food down her gullet.  "Yeah.  Yeah.  Okay, so... I was here two days ago, so you probably don't know but Winnidread was killed last night."

"Oh no!"  Donnabel put her hands over her mouth in horror.

Even Sad Fairy snapped out of her funk for a moment to get into the conversation.  She, like all Gate Keepers, knew they were not immortal.  Since their body loses the ability to heal itself, after a while, and after repeated injuries, the body is simply rendered too damaged and useless to continue.  That's when they return to the collective consciousness, and release their physical form to the elements.  But most cross over before this happens.  The most common death was by burning, although not as much in recent memory.  Any sort of massive injury that involves breaking the body up, like being crushed by industrial machinery, corrosive chemicals, or being cut into pieces usually leads to an early release of the soul.  But since Gate Keepers have eons of power behind them, they often have superhuman strength, amazingly quick dexterity, and the ability to "know" when things are about to happen.  They do not know true precognition, except in rare cases, but rarely are they caught so unawares that they are killed by another.  Murder of a Gate Keeper speaks of very bad things, but a part of Sad Fairy wondered if this means an old friend has returned...

"It's not the Half-Breed, although that's what everyone thinks at first," Genegrieve said, looking at Sad Fairy.  "We think it's the Soot Man."

<I>The Soot Man is back again?</i> signed Harona in disgust.  <I>Who keeps letting him back?</I>

While Genegrieve couldn't understand the exact words Harona was using, she did understand the look on her face.  "Yes, Soot Man is back.  Probably.  Okay, we don't know for sure."

Donnabel wrinkled her face in puzzlement.  "Why would he kill one of us?"

"HOW could he kill one of us?" Sad Fairy wanted to know.  The Soot Man's preferred method of devouring victims was to suffocate them in a sooty cloud, hence his name.  And last Sad Fairy checked, Gate Keepers did not have to breathe to stay alive.  No one knew who the Soot Man really was, or where he came from, only he came to this dimension to kill and devour humans in mass numbers.  Sometimes he could kill up to 50 or 60 people before the Gate Keepers would find him and send him back to exile in another dimension.  He appeared first in the 1700s, then again in 1812, and then again in 1864, and again and again.  Recently, he had managed to sneak back in four times in the last two years.  The Gate Keepers were getting better at catching him before he did any harm, but obviously, he had caught Winnidread off-guard.

<I>How DID Winnidread die?</I> asked Harona.

"Yeah, how DID she die?" repeated Donnabel.  She had been around Harona enough to know if she didn't translate, people would ignore Harona.  "She couldn't have been suffocated."

Genegrieve paused, and then whispered, "Shiante."

Harona and Donnabel gasped, and Sad Fairy made a face and said, "Ew."

"Dozens of them.  The Soot Man apparently found some amulet that controls them."

"That would explain why the Shiante didn't kill the p... er, Marideath," realized Donnabel.  "It wasn't told to kill her, so it just got mad and sat on her head in indecision."

Sad Fairy nodded.  She knew that Shiante were pretty unforgiving.  Despite being the size of a house cat, one was enough to take down a Gate Keeper.  A dozen would have... there must have been Gate Keeper burger for yards around. Sad Fairy shuddered.

"SPEAKING of Marideath," continued Genegrieve, "she is STILL asleep."

"It's been days!"

"Yes, it has.  Lady Sarcastia isn't too worried.  She spoke with Master Jason yesterday, and he thinks she's being prepped for her powers as a claudience, possibly precognitive."

Sad Fairy nodded her head, "We have been needing one of those for a while.  The whole Half-Breed thing wouldn't have happened if we had one of those."

"How can you say that?" Donnabel asked.  "Even Master Jason knew who she was involved with."

"I still can't believe she fooled all of us," Genegrieve said sadly, looking at the carpet in disbelief.  "She was doing so well until she got involved with the Eye Walker... speaking of which, that stupid mundane is rumored to be up and about on his own two feet.  Be careful, everyone.  He can see us.  And if he's up, he can travel."

"Mundane" was a word that Gate Keepers called humans.  Almost all mundanes were clueless and knew as little about their own dimension as a goldfish knows about where food comes from.  But once in a while, a mundane comes terribly close, and the Eye Walker was one of them.  The most irritating thing about an Eye Walker is they can see even the most minute holes in the fabric of space, and can easily travel from one dimension to another.  And being a mundane, they don't understand how truly powerful such a gift is, and then they end up causing a horrible mess until someone finally snuffs them.  The most recent case only proved the point.  Lady Sarcastia was going to finish him as he lay almost dead in the hospital, but Master Jason told her to wait.

And now he was up and about.  Suddenly, this made guarding their package MUCH more complicated.

"Lets see... other news is that Lady Scarity and Lady Morpha are coming over from England to announce a new Lady to end the gap in Miami.  We think they are going to choose Muertavida for her work in Cuba and Baton Rouge recently.  Lord Coalpitch of Ohio has given Lady Mopril two of his Acolytes, one of them is rumored to have advanced bending capability, and when that's been sorted out, he may come down here to scout for new recruits.  One of the Harajuku will be assisting, since they have all the dragon powers ..." Genegrieve paused in thought.  "Ah... already mentioned the Eye Walker..."

<I>I'll apply for bending,</I> Harona volunteered suddenly.  

Genegrieve snorted.  "Let's see... you can jump real high, spin around, your body turns to fangs, claws, and saw blades, and you have a great capability with pre-gunpower era weaponry."

"She can also sew real well," added Donnabel, a bit peeved that Genegrieve had dismissed Harona so quickly and with such arrogance.  But as her addition hung in the air, it went flat and seemed very stupid.

"Yeah," Genegrieve said, clopping her tongue, "so the last thing we need is to make her more dangerous."

<I>I don't speak about you in the third person in front of you,</i> Harona said.

But Genegrieve couldn't understand the signs, so she continued, "Bending is the ability to warp the fabric of a dimension.  It can alter the trajectory of moving objects, and tear anything... or anyone, apart like they were several sheets of wet paper.  And you think Harona here could handle that?"

"Don't patronize her!" Sad Fairy said.

"You make an odd choice in friends..." Genegrieve said, and then added, "...still."  Sad Fairy's blood began to boil, and the air in the mall started to darken in their area, and so Genegrieve decided to leave.  "Ta ta, grim ones.  See you at the mausoleum..."

"I... HATE... her..." Sad Fairy said.  But she didn't jerk away when Donnabel rubbed her back.  

"Don't let her get to you," said Donnabel in friendly tones.  "Genegrieve just thinks she's so special because she's the messenger. Just think, you turned down her job.  You REFUSED her job, as I recall."

"My best friend refused..." thought Sad Fairy.  "... said I was too good for it."

"Hey," said a familiar voice.  It was Nathan.  "There's some weird handicapped guy looking for you.  Well, looking for 'where the goths hang out.'  I told him the candle place at the other end of the mall."

"Thanks Nathan," said Donnabel sweetly.  "You did good."

"Wait, did you say a handicapped guy?" asked Sad Fairy.

"Yeah, some guy walking with those crutches.  I guess you call them handicapped."  Nathan paused and scratched his head.  "Or handi-capable.  I don't know..."

<I>Eye Walker?</I> asked Harona with subtle hand movements.

"This is just great!" Sad Fairy said, and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Friend of yours?" asked Nathan.

"Yeah... if by 'friend' you mean creepy mundane, then yes."

"Heh," Nathan laughed.  "Mundanes..."

Harona rolled her eyes at Donnabel, causing her to giggle, and Nathan to go, "What?  Whaaat?"

"They don't want to date you," Sad Fairy said, "so go away."

"You guys are so mean.  We're all in the same boat here," protested Nathan.

"Yeah," said Sad Fairy with a poker face.  "Same boat, oars, sail, anchor and all.  Where's YOUR sailor suit?"

There was a pause while Donnabel and Harona pursed tightened their lips in a stifled grin and looked to the floor.

"I can take a hint, gees..." and Nathan moped away.

"Well, thanks for THAT, Sad Fairy.  "Now where are we going to get churros?"

"In your ears, yam-head," Sad Fairy said and faked deep concentration at the package across the way.

The package was a huge gateway in a storage closet in a place simply called, "Saturday Arcade."  It looked perfectly ordinary to anyone passing by, or who even went into the storage closet.  It was usually guarded by a mysterious creature that no one really knew WHAT he was, but he appeared to be a balding human in his late 30s in this dimension.  He sort of popped out of the gate a while ago, and had been guarding it ever since.  No one knows why, but they suspect he's afraid something that might have been chasing him from wherever he came from, and that "thing" (or series of things) might get through.  One of the more interesting properties of the gate was that if you moved a huge ping pong tabletop, and opened the door behind, the gateway itself was as large as a football field.  Whatever could come through that gate could be up to that size, and once it was realized, it has been guarded so closely by the Gate Keepers that up until the recent incident with the half-breed, it was home base for Lady Sarcastia.  But, as the goth crowd became under scrutiny, she relocated to a gate in a graveyard many miles away.  

Sad Fairy once joked it was more likely because that Orange Julius went out of business, and Lady Sarcastia had to go elsewhere for her orange frosted drinks.

If the Eye Walker stumbled across this gate, there was no telling what he might accidentally let in.  Hell, the Soot Man was peanuts compared to some alien being the size of a football field doing... well, whatever a creature of that size does when lost in another dimension.

The "man" who usually guarded it unexpectedly said he had to be elsewhere, and since no one knew when he was going to be back or if he was coming back at all, it was under Gate Keeper detail for the last few months.  The previous guards, Scabatha and Maudlynn, had been summoned for a package in Alexandria for some mysterious purpose.  That is, mysterious if Sad Fairy gave a damn, and all she cared about is when they were coming back.

Because this job was boring.  Very boring.

"I am going to tell Nathan you're sorry," said Donnabel, knowing full well that Sad Fairy didn't care enough to understand why she had to apologize.

"You will do no such thing," Sad Fairy said.

"Try and stop me," said Donnabel, and walked away.

"Fine, yam it up Miss... Yam-head."

<I>What do you have against her head?  Or do you have this thing with yams you need sorted out?</i> Harona asked, and walked away.

"Hey, now, you can't leave too!"  Sad Fairy protested.  "Lady Sarcastia says we have to stick together!"

"Miss?" asked an unfamiliar voice.  "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Sad Fairy realized she was shouting in the middle of a mall, had walked halfway into a fountain, and mundanes were staring at her.  Saying, "Oh fuck," didn't help matters much.



------------------------------
So far Untitled - Chapter 5: The Sleeper Awakens

There is a place, within walking distance of the US Capital, which the locals know as "Deanwood."  This strange empty space on a tourist's map mentions nothing worth visiting, which is a shame, because it contains one of the area's largest open black markets.  You can pretty much get anything there, from bootleg movies and music, to car parts, electronics, clothing, and even food.  
But even the regulars, those people who have spent all their lives not questioning goods sold from a person's trunk, fail to recognize a small, run down, red brick building near the edge of the black market property.  It is so innocuous, it's considered "part of the scenery" of the local, run down, urban setting.

If anyone were to ask about it, and few do, they might get some shrugs, or the common speculations is was once part of a treatment plant of some kind, or a garage, or even a small block of apartments.  It's currently assumed to be gang territory, although it should be noted all the local gangs things it belongs to one of the other guys.  Even though no power goes to the property, late at night, you might notice some movement and eerie glows.  People who have accidentally walked onto the overgrown vacant lot around the area are driven away by a pack of "wild dogs," which usually grow ever larger with each retelling.

The only feature than can be seen in tall grass of the lot is part of a 1940s-era pickup truck, rusted through and through, and the thin, worn path that leads to the building ends at a large wooden door, reinforced with steel bands, several nailed planks, and a 1940s-era tin sign that says "By Federal law: No Trespassing."  Not that anyone gets near enough to the door to read it.

There are occupants, however.  There have been since anyone has been alive in the area.  But those occupants don't use the path or the door, if anything, because of the dogs.  They use a long utility pole that at one point had fallen over into the building, knocking out a window and a lot of surrounding bricks.  At some point, an old weather beaten wooden blue door was placed over the hole.  And those with keen eyes, a lot of patience, the ability to sit still, and no fear of packs of wild dogs, might see an occasional shadowy figure leap, skip, and jump up the pole, open the door, pause, and then enter.

On this night, no figure had entered the building.  There is a recent new occupant that has spooked even the spooks that call this dilapidated ruin a home.  Some Gate Keepers have chosen to spend the night elsewhere, and even during the day, prefer to sleep under broken rafters with their backs to the walls, watching for anything that might... scare them.

The new occupant is in an old metal frame bed.  An old mattress spans the rickety frame, one size to large, and tied to the bed over that mattress is the figure of a young college girl in torn and stained clothing that she once considered cool to dance in.  But her pale face is stained with patches of dark blue, her lips are now black, and her eyes are shut.  The only other occupant of this room is a thing and gangly young woman, curled up in a chair, deeply engrossed in a book called, "Fahrenheit 451."

"How is our package?" asked a tall and thin woman by the doorway.

Donnabel looked up from her book.  "Fine, I guess.  It's so hard to tell because we don't have a pulse or breathe.  She just sort of burps once in a while, and more of that blue stuff dribbles out.  Pretty gross, if you ask me."

"Do you always address your superiors so informally?"

Donnabel gave a startled response, and then fell to the floor, groveling.  "Oooh," she said, "I am so sorry... I was just... ooh... yeah, sorry, Lady Sarcastia."

"Get up," Lady Sarcastia said.  "At least with you, I know it's not sarcasm..."

"Lady Sarcastia... is... Sad Fairy in big trouble?"

The woman smiled as she entered the room.  She sat at the edge of the bed, and smoothed Marideath's greasy hair.  "No... although I am letting her think she is.  She's in exile for now."

"If it pleases you, try not to be so hard on her.  She's not been the same since... well, you know.  That ... half... girl... breed, was one of her best friends, and honestly I didn't think she'd become so... well, bad."

"She was half-demon," Lady Sarcastia said, mopping some of the blue stains off of Marideath's wet lips.  "I only banned her name from being spoken, not her heritage."

"She was half-human, too.  Some of us who were human... you know, identified with that."

"There is a lot more to the story than you could even imagine," Lady Sarcastia said.  She checked the wraps around Marideath's wrists and ankles, rubbing her fingers and toes to test for a response.

"Maybe if you shed some light into what happened--"

"NO!" Lady Sarcastia said sternly.  "Some knowledge is dangerous.  And we only know some things about her as it is."

"Do you think she'll come back?"

Lady Sarcastia opened Marideath's eyes, and looked at the inky blackness that shined back at her.  "I don't know."  She shut the eyelids again, and added, "but this one does.  She told me in a reading, and this was still as a human, you understand."

"What did she say?" asked Donnabel in a shaky whisper.

"If I told you, you'd tell everyone you saw for the next 20 years."

Donnabel looked at her feet.  "Yes, ma'am."

"It is very important that Marideath awakens, although I am not sure how --"

"BEWARE OF THE HALF-BLOODED TRAVELER, SHE WALKS WITH FIRE AND COMES FROM HER HOMESTEAD WITH HER GRANDFATHER'S TRIDENT THAT POUNDS THE HEARTS OF THE GATE KEEPERS WITH THE FISTS OF GODS!!!" screamed Marideath from some waking dream.  her eyes snapped open, and she struggled at her bindings.

"Yes, that was it...!" Lady Sarcastia said excitedly.

But Marideath fell back to a stone slumber.

"Was that about... her?"  Donnabel paused, and then continued as if she hadn't asked. "She did that an hour ago," Donnabel said with a bored look.  "Except the last one foretold of great walls crumbling will humble even the most ranging boils of... some people.  I think she meant, like, warriors or some great war where the victor pities those he defeats or something along those lines.  Anyway, when she does this, it scares away the bats, so it's useful for something."

Lady Sarcastia tried not to look disappointed.  "I had heard she was waking more frequently."  She started to massage Marideath's chest and stomach.

"What are you doing?"

"Master Jason told me that this might bring her back to a more... well, less agitated state.  Here, loosen those bonds.  I need to turn her on her side."

Donnabel helped Lady Sarcastia tilt Marideath on her side, and more liquid poured from her mouth, nose, and neck wound.  Then, suddenly, she coughed.  Then the vomited, and tons of dark blue liquid poured onto the mattress.  Then she gasped and coughed again as Lady Sarcastia untied her and helped her sit up.

"How are you feeling... er, Marideath?"

"Oh god..." she said, which came out like sobs.  "I... I... saw so much and... you have no idea how many places I have been to."

"I can imagine.  I am going to untie your ankles now, can you sit up by yourself?"

"I think so," Marideath managed weakly.  She absently adjusted her shirt and wiped her face.  Then she grabbed her face and began to cry.

"What is it, dear?" asked Lady Sarcastia is a rare mood of motherly empathy.

"I... I... I can't SEE!"  Marideath pushed and prodded her eyes, which were a solid midnight blue, dotted with teeny tiny sparkles. "Oh, no!  Am I... am I blind???"

Lady Sarcastia patted her back and rubbed her neck, "In a way of speaking, yes, but I have something for that."  She reached into her backpack, and pulled out a large wooden box.  She grabbed Marideath's shaking hands and led her to the box.

"I didn't know I'd go blind... I'm so sorry... I'll be no use to the Gate Keepers, and I just wanted to--"

"No regrets, never look back," Donnabel said reflexively.

"Donnabel?  Is that you?  Oh, god.  Are you here?  Touch my hands, Donnabel.  Please!  I can't see!" and she started to shake and cry.

"Wait," Lady Sarcastia said.  "Please open the box."

Marideath hesitated, but then slowly felt along the runes of the box.  The rim of the lid glowed slightly to her touch. 

"It's so... warm..."

"Open it, please.  I cannot open it for you."

Marideath opened the box, and felt the small stack of cards in her hand.  

Marideath gasped.  "I... I can SEE!"

"Yes.  Those are your cards.  There is only one set like them in the world, and Master Jason has them.  They help him see, too."

"But it's not like... I used to see.  It's... so...magical!"

Donnabel snickered.

"That's my book, Donnabel."

Donnabel nodded her head in respect.  "Very good.  Yes, it was in your pocket."

"I saw you took it, and I see that you will find the plot ironic.  You may keep
it."

"Okay, thanks... Marideath.  Other than your... well, you have enough sleepy gunk in your eyes that could take days to clean, maybe you'll get--"

"My sight is better than it even has been," she said, fondling the worn cards. "Now... be careful of the obelisk."

"What obelisk?"

"Very GOOD, Marideath!" exclaimed Lady Sarcastia.

"What? What's that mean?"

Lady Sarcastia smiled.  "Your next package!"

------------------------------
So far Untitled - Chapter 6: Harona's Tale

Harona's Tale

At three in the morning, any place in the city begins to seem chilly.  Autumn was upon the citizens of Washington, but most were comfortably asleep in their warm beds, dreaming of their uncomplicated lives where everything makes sense because the media tells them so.

A chilled wind whipped across a large patch of grass, passed a large brick castle, and ended at the base of a huge obelisk where a lone figure blended with the shadows.  Despite the fact she could not suffer from cold, she wrapped her arms around herself and rocked slowly.

A guard passed by her without even noticing that a small girl, clad in layers of gray aprons, was watching the side of the hill that led up to the obelisk.  Even though she was partially lit by a spotlight in front of a flagpole, she had the power of "camouflage by disassociation," so the guard saw her as just a normal shadow mixing with the movement of the flags above.

Harona had a lot of time to think.

Not just for the last few days, but in general.  Even though she could articulately communicate by a series of subtle gestures and eye movements, people often ignored her because the only sound she could make from her tongueless mouth was a croaking roar.  Add to the fact she was only partially human, many treated her like a trained monkey, or at least she felt that way.  Her complaints of the Soot Man seemed appropriate out in the open, but secretly, she envied and was incredibly curious how he kept moving about, and how he killed.  Harona had many depths of appreciation for those who were skilled in the art of harvesting souls.

Harona had no regrets. Unlike many of her sisters, she could remember her past life, and it was so horrible, and she felt so powerless, she never once looked at the whole thing as a positive experience, and had no fond memories of her life as a human.

Daughter of a Baltimore fishmonger, she was sold to another family as an indentured servant, who in turn, put her to work at a local clothing mill.  When the mill burned down, she was sent to work in the family's fish processing plant where she gutted and skinned thousands of fish daily.  When she was 12, she was so quick with the fillet knife, she boasted she could cut and gut faster than three men in one hour.  And she was right.  The speed in which she used a knife became a local legend.  Instead of using a knife and a hand, she expertly cut and gutted a fish with two knives, and added some flair with some twirling and tossing.  By age 13, she was making some side money at waterfront bars, hanging out with the seedy labor that Baltimore is still famous for.

But her life took a deadly turn when she was an unwilling witness to a brutal murder of two men, and when the killer found out about it, he caught her, cut out her tongue, and left her for dead.  Lady Vapora found her, and offered her the Crossing.  Harona's life ruined, she crossed over, and went on to become one of Lady Vapora's most skilled assassins.  She fought on the battlefields of when most people call "The US Civil War," but what was really part of an ongoing onslaught between demons and angels which had started what mundanes as The French Revolution, was a major part of the Crimean War, the Russo-Turkish War, and stopped only after World War I.  World War II was mostly a mundane thing, but the atomic bomb, which was the end result of a 85-year "nudging" (where dimensional travelers from other places "nudge" a civilization in subtle ways to their own end), changed the face of all Gate Keepers on the planet Earth.

Lady Vapora considered her to be an essential tool for keeping the peace, and in the early days, there were so many opportunities that Harona never had time to rest; nor did she want to.  Lady Vapora had nothing but praise for her.  While the Gate Keepers kept the peace, Harona's anger was never satiated, and her killings became more and more brutal.  During the wars she was very useful, but after 1945, her kind was seen more of an embarrassment, as Gate Keepers wanted a neutral stance, and she was definitely not of a diplomatic breed. But as time went by, her quest for the ultimate kill began to starve.  The Gate Keepers focused less on killing, but preventing the need to kill in the first place.  Harona's place in the future became uncertain.  She became reckless, and when Lady Vapora handed over part of her territory to Lady Sarcastia, Harona was traded like a baseball card, and all but dismissed to menial tasks.  Harona felt forgotten and left behind when Lady Vapora carved up her territory, leaving Lady Sarcastia most of the DC area down to Virginia Beach.  Bored and restless, the hours Harona was not using her knives, she studied martial arts with a Harajuku who had studied under a dragon known as Fu Lin.  

She wondered what her former martial arts teacher would think about the Soot Man.  Her Shinto Harajuku trained under the master of all dragon fighters during the era of Mutsuhito's Meiji Restoration, when the dragons assumed human form most of the time, and became embroiled in human affairs.  The Harajuku introduced Harona to the art of "bending."  Bending, which was a dragon-bourne art, was the act of actually twisting the fabric of reality itself, which resists heavily, and why it is almost impossible for a human to do, but essential for the serpentine dragons to fly.  But bending was terribly dangerous, and in the wrong hands, could ripple the fabric of reality so hard, it would tear apart anything in its path for up to several yards.  Harona wanted to learn this art so badly, her Harajuku sensed a desperation that would lead to a disastrous end, so instead, she tried to teach Harona a deep inner peace, which Harona only followed, hoping it would lead to learning more about bending.

Through her lessons with the Harajuku, Harona all but worshipped her master's master, and got to perform for him many times.  The venerable old dragon, now in human form like most dragon folk on Earth, seemed to be appreciative, but distant.  Harona tried everything to get closer to Fu Lin, including making friends with Fu Lin's hatchling, whose human form was a small yet precocious Asian girl.  Her former life as the daughter of a prolific fishmonger, she had once had many small brothers and sisters, and they got along quite well.  Keeping up with Fu Lin's daughter was daunting, as she did not believe in any sort of social etiquette whatsoever.  Add to that, she aged like a dragon, and even though she aged almost ten Earth years, she still acted as if she was 4.  Harona's Harajuku thought this would be a good training in patience, and for a while, it was working.

But then, Fu Lin was mysteriously murdered, along with his wife, and her Harajuku exiled herself in mourning.  Fu Lin's daughter was taken into hiding, and Harona spent the next few years wandering San Francisco as a beatnik.  Now feeling like she had no direction, Harona got fed up during a poetry reading, set fire to the entire bar, and fled to other dimensions, looking for obscure teachers to teach her some of the most razor-sharp arts of fighting she could find, and perhaps, bending.  But she would never be taught bending, for she was human.

But she was changing.

Over time, her anger and obsession mutated her, and she became what Gate Keepers called, "morphous."  Morphus is a well-heard of, but still rather uncommon, state of a Gate Keeper where their form starts to divert from being human into a twisted monstrosity influenced by deep symbolism of their own memories.  Thus, Harona's layers of dress and aprons became like the gills of fish mixed with steel blades.  Her long, braided hair was a tribute to her Harajuku master.  She was so focused on learning bending, she barely noticed the change.  It was when she was caught and returned to Lady Sarcastia that her new look was pointed out to her.  But she never got to see, because she would be entombed in granite for the next 30 years.

She was labeled "a drifter," a Gate Keeper with no master, and her deadly skills lead to several coverups and diplomatic mishaps in other dimensions.  She was captured and imprisoned in stone where Donnabel was her "package master," making sure Harona was wiped down and dusted.  Donnabel had recently Crossed, and Harona was her first real assignment.  If it wasn't the the fact Donnabel honestly felt sorry for her, talked to her stone figure daily like she was a person, Harona would probably still be entombed in granite, but Donnabel's pleas led to a probationary period where Harona did her best to stay "good," although it was more for Donnabel's sake than Lady Sarcastia's.  Donnabel became good friends, and although she seemed to talk AT people more than with them, Harona at least appreciated the company: it helped her forget.

So there she was, by the Washington Monument, a mere shadow of her former glory, and she knew almost none of the Gate Keepers now knew who she used to be, except for Lady Vapora, who ignored her, and Lady Sarcastia, who pretended like nothing had ever gone wrong in the first place.  Everyone else assumed she was just "that mute girl," and only Sad Fairy and Donnabel ever listened to her, even if they didn't always agree, at least they reacted like she spoke.

Oh, there was one other Gate Keeper who had spoken to her like an equal.  But she defected, didn't she?  The Half Breed.  The One We Do Not Speak Of.  And even thought the Half Breed had befriended them all, her half-demon side finally took control and then one fateful day...

A herd of Shiante galloped past her, and startled her.  To the mundanes, they looked like a bunch of tumbling pieces of black plastic trash bags in the wind, but Harona was much more concerned about Shiante movement since the death of Winnidread.  She didn't know Winnidread very well, but she did know that a death of a Gate Keeper by the hands of another was very rare, and incredibly unnerving.  She tried to think of the last time she saw Winnidread.  Yes, it was when the Half Breed went missing.  Winnidread had been one of the girls sent to trace where she might have disappeared to.  The Half Breed and Winnidread never got along, because Winnidread didn't trust anyone, preferred to work alone, and considered the Half Breed untrustworthy, even though she took the Oath of Crossing, and drank from the Cup of Knowledge.  Winnidread had gotten into many fights with the Half Breed, and so when she vanished, and sooty pieces of her were found scattered over an Anacostia neighborhood, many Gate Keepers sucked in their breath through teeth and cringed.  Not just because her end was so unlikely, but so violent that it was shocking.  It was only the calmness of Lady Sarcastia who figured out what had happened.  The Soot Man, tired of being expunged, was back and now trying to kill those who banished him over two dozen times since the late 1800s.

But something didn't feel right.  How could a man who had no real form possess a Shiante-controlling amulet?  

Her thoughts were interrupted by the singing of a homeless man in the distance.  He was singing about how the End of Days would bring the final war between angels and demons, and while such songs weren't uncommon among mundane folk, it seemed odd this man was singing so loudly at 3am with the wind blowing around.  Harona huddled closer to her package, and then smirked at her own foolishness.

The package was over 500 feet tall, and was so obviously not part of the landscape, it was one of the most blatant examples of how mundanes can be pretty much convinced of anything.  A giant granite Egyptian obelisk right smack in the middle of a city with Greco-roman architecture and modern buildings.  It towered, no LOOMED over the city because there was a rule "somebody had made" that no building in Washington DC could be taller than the US Capitol.  This was not true of course, since the obelisk was a giant ley-line energy concentrator for collecting the Earth's natural energy fields, known as ley lines, and sending it to the subterranean world where it powered whatever it powered, and that wasn't anyone's business what it powered.  Ley lines criss-cross the earth, and usually cross near hills, which often end up being churches, castles, forts, and other buildings.   This structure was blatantly artificial, however, and altered the flow of many lines in such a powerful form that they not only crossed over it, they formed nesting rings that were scarcely understood.  All the Gate Keepers knew was that it was great form opening gates, keeping them open, and closing unwanted gates without sacrificing souls.  It was one of several such objects in the world, but its sheer size powered most of the eastern coast from Nova Scotia to Florida since 1885.  It would take almost 50 years until its rival, the Empire State Building, was needed to take up the slack caused by the explosion of travel to Earth to and from other dimensions.

But it still needed guarding.  Its central location, combined with its huge draw of power always caused strange rifts and visitors.  And it attracted Shiante in great numbers.  So a homeless man singing about wars with angels and demons in its glowing presence was cause for a closer investigation.  She bolted from her assigned position, and dashed down the hill before the homeless man could see her.  Maybe this wasn't what lady Sarcastia would approve of, but Harona was getting so bored, she was thinking she might toy with the man to pass the time.  Maybe dart back and forth at the corner of his vision, only to vanish as he turned his head.

But before Harona got to the man, the man stopped singing, and started to gag and choke.  His eyes bulged out and he started to cough a dark cloud.  The cloud started to take on shape as the homeless man gagged and coughed.  Harona was confused at first, and then the numb realization of what she was witnessing stopped her dead in her tracks.   Harona was in the middle of a grassy field on the side of a hill; there was nowhere for her to hide, so she just watched in morbid fascination. She knew this attack.  She knew there was only one figure who would kill a man in such a way.

The Soot Man.

The air started to smell like smoke as the Soot Man coalesced over his victim.  In his natural form, he looked like a charred skeleton, partially wrapped in waves of ash and soot like ribbons of tattered cloth.  The thing that made him so hard to capture was he could turn into smoke almost instantly and blow away so thin, you couldn't see him, but he'd collect around you, enter your lungs, and constrict you.  The Soot Man choked his victim from the inside out.

Harona still liked watching things die.  Men, in particular. A few moments ago, she thought nothing of this man except for entertainment, but now, seeing the Soot Man perform his work, and old part of her awoke with the passion of her former self.  The art and the skill of torture.  The expression of disbelief on the victim's face.  As Harona watched with lurid fascination at the Soot Man drain energy from his victim, old feelings from assassinations she had done earlier bubbled to the surface.  She had many memories of gleeful slayings on the battlefields of the US Civil War and World War 1, along with some of the more personal stalkings and eventual elimination of her marks.

Scarcely aware of her exposure, she crouched on the side of the hill, knees to elbows, mouth slightly agape, and watched the Soot Man feed.  He was a rogue harvester.  A real, honest-to-goodness rogue harvester of souls.  Who did he work for?  Why does he keep coming back?  Whatever was left of her dried heart was racing.  She didn't even fear he would see her.  Often, on her travels, she considered becoming a rogue harvester, just to fill that insatiable lust for killing, but she had seen too many rogue harvesters go insane, and knew the quest was unending... and she had enough of one empty sucking at her soul's belly -- she didn't need another.

She watched the Soot Man wrap his sinewy form around the dying man's body, and drain the life force that drives all walking chunks of mean in this dimension.  She watched an actual soul being consumed, and while it disgusted her, it also intrigued her.  But when the process ended, and she sighed like a school girl who had just gotten her first passionate kiss, she realized that she was in great danger.  The Soot Man was done feeding, and looking at her with eyes that glowed like dying embers.

And it thrilled her.  She felt no love for Winnidread, but the thought of vengeance for one of her sisters was good enough.  Lady Sarcastia would never approve, but the challenge was just too tempting.  She wasn't doing it for her.  In fact, she would prove to her, and Lady Vapora, that years of exile in stone and mundane tasks did not crush her spirit, but left it to smolder and erupt again.

Her eyes furrowed, and the air around her darkened.  Her eyes flashed a deep blue, and her thin arms reached into the folds of a familiar set of cloth pockets, and her wiry hands pulled out two jewel-encrusted daggers.  Her mind flashed all circuits, alighting memories of former kills, training by weird gods, and gutting fish with the speed like no one else.  Her mouth split into a grim smile, and she rose with such little effort, it almost seemed like she was gently pulled up.

The Soot Man, if it was a man, looked at her with no expression. He waited to see what she would do.

For several minutes, the two of them stared at each other.  Killer facing killer.  The only emotion was a passionate thrill in Harona's soul. A sucking hunger that would be soon filled.

Harona knew that the Soot Man wanted her to make the first move.  She would not give him the satisfaction.  Usually the first to lose a fight is the one who loses patience.  Harona could wait there all night, into the morning, and the next day if she had to; she was allowed here, he wasn't.  She knew he'd be forced to make the first move.  But she felt a prickle of impatience.  She tried to push aside the distracting future predictions of glory.  Lady Sarcastia would be pissed.  Donnabel would shake her, out of fear of losing another friend.  Sad Fairy would stop being so dismissive.  

Lady Vapora might take her back.

"Are you going to stand there, or--" Harona started, but the Soot Man vanished into a thin puff of smoke.  That's when Harona broke eye contact, and realized that this was not a typical battle.  The Soot Man would probably materialize around her, and try and choke her.  But she was not some Gate Keeper crossed from a bored college student, or some sad sack Lady Sarcastia fetched from an emergency room.  She used to be the greatest assassin in the wars the Gate Keepers should have kept fighting.  She had fought invisible opponents before; she had been trained to do so many times in many places.  So she immediately sat down, and meditated.  A small bulb of tactile psychic energy emanated from her.  She knew that wherever the Soot Man started to materialize, she would strike.  She breathed quietly, as the sphere grew several feet from her, and then several yards. She waited.

Something tickled her back.  It wasn't a touch, but it was a warning.  An assassin knows when she's being watched, and knew when something was trying to creep up on her from behind.  Perhaps the Soot Man was trying to... and then it hit her.  He didn't kill Winnidread.

Shiante did.

The shock of this realization came almost too late as she leapt into the air, and as she spun around, she saw them coming down the hill.  Not dozens of Shiante.  Not hundreds. Thousands.  And they were incredibly fast.  They swarmed the grassy mound around the obelisk like a dark liquid.  She had never seen so many of anything coming to attack.  Not at Shiloh.  Not in Versace.  Not at Normandy.  And while each Shiante was not larger than a house cat, thousands of them coated the area like a tidal wave.  Obviously, they were waiting for the Soot Man all this time.

She jumped backwards across the street, and jumped into an old tree.  But she knew they were coming from the Smithsonian Mall behind her, from the streets of the city, and covered every inch of ground.  They had surrounded her.  For a moment, she balked in her mind this was not the battle of an assassin, but one of a slaughter, but she calmed her mind and turned the rising fear into a joyous determination.  The oily fog of vicious tooth-welding weasels might be descending upon her in a mass that two daggers would scarcely make a dent in, but that only meant she had to think of something else.  She had to get higher up.  What was the tallest thing nearby?

The obelisk.

Of course, that was now several hundred feet away and several thousand Shiante deep.  But if she could get to the obelisk, she could scale up the top, and wait there until the sunlight drove most of them away.  She didn't have long to think, as she heard the rustling of the trees around her, bending and snapping with the weight of their new dark leaves.  The moonlight started to darken, and she tried to think of some way to distract the Shiante. What did she know about them?

Seconds of rapid thinking produced nothing useful.  They couldn't fly.  They couldn't cross water.  They didn't eat peanut butter.  They craved salt.  They originally came from Africa, and came with the slaves.  The ones in Scandinavia were white.  There's a serious problem of them clogging sewers in New Orleans.  They are inedible.  They probably don't floss.  Harona gritted her teeth, and realized she was panicking, which was no good.  She tried to meditate in rational calmness, but the hissing and growling of the Shiante were almost going to smother her.

She recalled the Shiante on Marideath's head, and wondered what controlled them.  How could she make them this docile?

"I once killed an entire legion of men," said a voice from her past.  "The idiots were slow in their ranks.  I knew I was cornered, and I couldn't go through them on any side.  So I went over them.  I danced over their heads as I slaughtered them one by one, hopping from head to head like Alice dancing over a field of giant mushrooms.  Most were dead before they fell to the ground."

When the felt the hairs of the Shiante close to her face, she erupted from the tree into the seething swarm below her.  She knew the only way was over them.  A tendril of Shiante shot from the tree behind her, almost swearing like the mood of an octopus that just missed its catch, before dissolving into a disarray of tumbling chunks of glossy fur.  Harona landed on the backs of several Shiante, and before the could turn to bite her, she had already leapt into the air, where a hump of Shiante followed her like a wave.  She jumped from spot to spot with incredible speed and height, and in four graceful bounds, she stuck to the obelisk like a large fly, and started to climb.

But the Shiante were not giving up that easily.  While their needle-sharp claws scraped and scrabbled uselessly on the smooth marble face of the obelisk, they started to pile up, and by sheer volume, the pile of them raised higher and higher after Harona as she scuttled up the obelisk mere feet away from the edge of the dark hungry mass.  The Washington Monument became clad with the thick cloud of Shiante as Harona kept climbing higher and higher.  She knew that her original plan to stay at the top was useless, and her mind rationally tried to determine what she would when she got to the top.

"Sometimes, the only way to face what you cannot face, is to keep moving," say the memory again, and with that powering her tired arms, she perched herself on the tiny pyramid top, and in one gigantic leap, shot straight into the air.  She almost didn't make it, as several Shiante leapt upon her back and legs.  But ash she flew into the frosty night air, she crossed one of the concentric rings that made a ley line, and while fairly harmless to things made of solid forms, to thinks like Shiante and even the Soot Man, they were deadly.  The few Shiante that clung to her back and leg leapt off, and some fried like sizzling grease as she passed the cloudy band. She felt its power momentarily before finding herself alone and falling in darkness.  "Assess all situations, and become grace."  She knew that voice from her past, and was shocked it wasn't her Harajuku, but the voice of a former friend; the Half Breed.

<I>Right,</I> she thought, <i>I am probably 700 feet in the air, and since I can't fly, this is a problem.</i>

Her Harajuku once said that Ninja didn't fly, they simply moved in the air with grace in any direction.  Harona spent a lot of time watching cats during her training, and instinctively, she looked for signs of the horizon to right herself.  But the dotted lights seemed to be everywhere, and she didn't know if she was falling face down or sideways.  Then she caught a glint of the water, and less than a second before she broke the surface, she arced into a beautiful swan dive, and vanished beneath the inky river with scarcely a ripple.

The Shiante parted, and the Soot Man never returned.  It was quiet for a little while, and then a gangly girl carrying two steaming drinks walked up the hill, and sat on a bench.

"Harona?" she called out in the dark.  "Harona?"  She looked around anxiously.  "Dammit, Harona.  Don't be all Ninja on me and try and sneak up and scare me.  The coffee place was closed, so I had to go ALL the way downtown to find this little middle eastern place off M street.  My feet are killing me!"  She paused again.  "Harona?"

Without warning, a inky black streak zoomed past her lap, and spilled coffee all over the front of her coat.  

"GODDAMN FUCKING SHIANTE!!!" she screamed, and then looked up when she saw movement.

<I>You don't even know the half of it...</i> signed a voice from a tree.

----------------------------------

So far Untitled - Chapter 7: The Library of Stones

Donnabel put on an apron.  It was green, and had the Cinnicookie logo on it.  She grabbed a large duster from the wall, and started down the stone stairs.  It was cleaning duty, and while it was completely boring and humdrum, right now it was the safest place to be. 

She couldn't believe the story the soggy Harona relayed to her.  It seemed too incredible.  The Soot Man.  Thousands of Shiante.  The leap from the obelisk.  The Half Breed's voice speaking to her from her memories and guiding her what to do.  But the cuts on her back and calves, along with the smell of burnt Shiante was unmistakable.  They had to return right away to Lady Sarcastia!  And yet, Harona seemed hesitant.  

Harona was pretty shaken up, Donnabel thought.  "She wasn't thinking straight.  She should have ran.  I would have run..." she said to herself, as she entered the library.

The Gate Keeper Library, or at least this one, was a repository of old knowledge and artifacts.  It contained things of Gate Keeper value impossible to price, and thus, was guarded by the half-corpse Lillybeth.

<I>Halt dear stranger and pause for a tale,
A story of sorrow and women who wail.
You have come to a guarded keep,
And you may find the treasure you come to seek...</i>

Lillybeth, who in life had been cut clean in two somewhere in the 1700s, was the upper torso of a late opera singer with the lower half of her contained in a steam-powered wheeled apparatus, which also powered a harpsichord-sounding device that played as she sang, along with a small calliope.

<I>You must present your authority
In a quite passable form to me.
If you fail, you will find you end
With some wound you cannot possibly mend...</I>

"It's Donnabel, Lillybeth.  Good to see you again."

<I>Do-hoho-onabel.... Do-hoho-onabel.... 
A long time... it has been since a spell
Since I have listened longingly to thee
Tell a story of a clever young ladyyy....</i>

Awkward.  While most of the Gate Keepers avoided the desperateness of Lillybeth's loneliness, Donnabel felt sorry for her, having to sit in the library all alone, singing sad songs of jilted lovers and names of famous socialites only she still remembered from her time.  Donnabel knew that Lillybeth had been murdered by her drunken husband, who them framed the man he incorrectly accused of being unfaithful with his wife, resulting in a hanging, which lead to two murders between families, which resulted in more hangings, and then a family feud, which ended up, oddly enough, in the invention of the Cotton Gin.

The song about it was no less than 24 stanzas.

"Lillybeth, I am just here to do some routine cleaning and dusting.  You know... duty and all.  I'd..." Donnabel paused, because she felt this was an uncomfortable, but necessary lie, "I'd... like you to sing for me... while I... clean."

<I>While this singer does appreciate
The kind words you try to relate
I am not as blind as you think, my friend
So sense you came with a different end...</I>

Donnabel blushed.  "I just came to... clean."

The singer, her pale face like an ancient Greek statue, titled to the side and smiled softly.  Her chair puffed and clicked as she wheeled to a different part of the library, near a stone block.

<I>She came to me just last week
Her figure is trapped as we speak
Sarcastia brought her entombed in stone
And she has been here all alone...</I>

Donnabel rushed to the stone, and looked at the face carved on it.

"Sad Fairy?  Oh, Sad Fairy I am SO sorry this happened!  You were right, we should have NEVER left you."

Lillybeth, who still had enough tact in her personality to leave them alone, took the feather duster from Donnabel, who scarcely noticed, and wheeled to another part of the library.  Donnabel sat cross-legged in front of the carving, just as she had done for Harona and... someone else a long time ago.

"I have SO much to tell you. Okay, first, we had to guard a package, and it was SO amazing, it was the obelisk down in DC? The huge one?  Can't miss it, I know we MUST have been there a few times.  Anyway, so Harona gets this craving for coffee, I mean, go figure, right?  So after I left, you'll never guess who she saw!"  Donnabel paused, even though the expressionless carving did not change.  "The SOOT Man!  Oh, it was incredible.  Well, so I heard.  Harona had to fight them off, and there were all these Shiante and she had to climb the obelisk, and jump into the air, then dived into the Potomac and got covered with stinky trash, and then when I got back, she was in a tree.  AMAZING!"  Donnabel paused again, almost expecting Sad Fairy to tell her to shut up, so she felt it would be nice to give Sad Fairy the chance to do it even in her head.

Being trapped in stone was a common punishment for a wayward Gate Keeper.  It was quick, neat, and durable.  One could be trapped for a day, a week, years, or even centuries.  Some of the stones in the library were so old, no one could remember who was trapped in them and why.  And the thought of releasing them was out of the question, because even though the person trapped could not move, they could still see, hear, and think.  This drove some of them mad.  In fact, it was assumed that anyone trapped for over a century was either mad or comatose.  But one could not simply destroy the stone, because that would be murder.  So it was considered to be unwise to imprison someone like this for more than a few years at most.  

Donnabel took it upon herself to be the champion of lost causes, and try and research why some of these people were put in stone, and to get them freed.  She was one of the main reasons Harona was let go, as well as Miserina (imprisoned because she turned an entire orphanage of children into zombie-like slaves), Stagnes (imprisoned for killing Lady Damantha and then pretending to be her for 50 years), Scaraha and her twin brother Scarabann (wrongfully accused of burying the Sphinx in Egypt), and the most recent and famous, the Half Breed, who was imprisoned because she ate over 200 people, many of them rescuers of the previous people she had eaten.  As a toddler.

This was why Lady Sarcastia labeled Donnabel as "her conscience."

Out of all of those, only the Half-Breed turned out to be a bad idea.  Miserina is now Lady Miserina of Las Vegas, Stagnes changed her name back to Lady Damantha of Salem after a discussion of Gate Keepers that she was a lot nicer and ran things better than the REAL Lady Damantha, and Scaraha and Scaraban are working under assignment in the Middle East, collecting rogue artifacts.

But everyone will always connect her with the Half Breed.

"Lady Sarcastia," asked Donnabel many years ago.  "Tell me of the onyx stone that faces the fireplace."

Lady Sarcastia sipped an orange soda from a wax paper cup noisily, and looked at a point in space that was close to her, but might as well have been several million years away.  "It is a pretty stone," she said.  "Very shiny and flat."

"Who is... Misabel?  The inscription on the stone is missing."

"It is not missing, curious one.  Merely obscured.  Misabel is ... different than the rest.  She is not a Gate Keeper like we are.  She is a... conundrum.  A puzzle.  A thing that should not be, yet is.  A half breed, if you will."

"She is half demon?"  

Lady Sarcastia rolled her eyes in slight surprise down at Donnabel, who was kneeled on the floor.  "Why would you ask such a question when your tone tells me you already know the answer?"

"Lillybeth told me... not really.  It was what she didn't tell me that got me curious."

"Lillybeth is very lonely sometimes, and tends to have a flair for the dramatic, Donnabel."

Donnabel did not back down.  "I looked it up.  Her inscription.  Why is Misabel imprisoned in stone when she is not a Gate Keeper?"

Lady Sarcastia absently sipped her soda, and chose her words as carefully as a surgeon chooses a cut.  "She presented a problem that was ... unsolvable at the time.  I imprisoned her until I could find and answer."

"And that was over 60 years ago," Donnabel said softly, but ended it with a subtle question mark.

"You IMPUDENT child!  How DARE you challenge my decision!?!"

"Don't look back," Donnabel whispered to herself.  "No regrets."  She swallowed hard and rose to her feet.  "I want... I want her to be put on trial."

Lady Sarcastia was shocked, and then laughed.  "On TRIAL?  Like Miserina and Stagnes?  Would you like me to release her like Harona?"

"Harona has proven an excellent example to behavior," Donnabel said defiantly.  "What do you have against Harona?  Why must you push her aside?"

Lady Sarcastia stood up and paced back and forth in front of her lawn chair.  "The mute has her own crimes to answer for.  Misabel is not some morphous freak who once had a purpose!  She is... is..."

"She represents something you will keep putting off until it is too late.  Like the hundred stone.  Like the obelisk in London.  Like the stone in Mecca?"

Lady Sarcastia laughed and rolled her eyes.  "You would have me release the Thing that Once Ate Half of Ur?"

"Bad example, I admit.  Not now I wouldn't.  Not after 6000 years.  But Misabel has been imprisoned for over 60--"

"That abomination should be sealed forever!!!  You... you who only recently crossed would know NOTHING of what she represents!  I have given into your pleas, my conscience.  What more would you ask of me?"

Donnabel did not back down.  "Have I ever disappointed you?"

Lady Sarcastia laughed again.  "This is not about exchanging favors.  You may have been crossed now some 40 years, but let me tell you, Miss Donnabel, that means nothing.  You were not even born a human before the war between the demons and the angels was finally called a truce.  You were a mere human child when the nudging was ended.  You have not seen... you cannot possibly comprehend what you are asking!"

"Then... please explain."  Donnabel sat down, crossed legged, and looked up at Lady Sarcastia.

"You... oh my goodness, you simply..."  Lady Sarcastia sat down noisily in her lawn chair, and inhaled deeply from her long cigarette holder until the ember turned a bright blue.  She calmed down, looked Donnabel in the eyes and said... "No."

"No what?"

"No.  Never.  Not here.  Not anywhere.  This discussion is over, and I have a package for you!"

Donnabel stood up slowly.  "What is the package, m'lday?"

"It's... go wait somewhere and... go and... you must retrieve ... just go, and I'll send Harona with the message.  Now go.  GO!"

Donnabel defiantly bowed, and then excused herself from Lady Sarcastia's chambers, up a series of stairs, and into an arcade in a shopping mall.  She then crossed almost a decade into the present as she realized the dark red stone in front of her was not the face of the Half Breed, but her friend Sad Fairy.  The sound of Lillybeth's steam carriage grew closer, absently tuning and re-tuning the air pressure in the calliope softly.

"I am sorry... I drifted for a moment there.  Sad Fairy, if I can get M... the Half Breed out, I can certainly get you out!  Don't you worry.  I heard this was only for a few weeks anyway.  You didn't do that much damage.  I mean... the human police only got a little involved, and we had someone in their social services waiting for you when you arrived.  I was surprised Lady Sarcastia was as mad as she was.  I suspect that the predictions our p... I mean, Marideath, are not pleasant."  Donnabel thought for a moment.  "It seems the less we are allowed to talk about the Half Breed... the more she influences our thoughts.  And I suppose that's my fault, too."

"Lady Sarcastia," said Lady Vapora back in Donnabel's memory, "who DO you keep Misabel imprisoned?  It seems like you are avoiding her."

"We avoid who we have to," she replied.  "Embarrassments from our past."

Lady Vapora did not change her expression, but the air around her grew dark.  "I know of whom you speak, and you imprisoned her, not I."

"And now what am I to do with her?"  Lady Sarcastia asked as she looked over a large book with uneven pages sticking out at odd angles.  "She's already killed several people... that I am aware of.  How long before she escapes again?"

"Harona is not a beast to be tamed, Sarcastia.  She is a plant, a... flower, that should be nurtured."

"I always was a poor botanist."

"When I gave you this territory, I didn't intend for it to be an orphanage of lost young girls.  Yet you seem to raise them well.  But don't keep your soil too dry, Sarcastia."

Lady Sarcastia flipped the book to a page that caused a slight breeze to waft across her face.

"When I found Misabel, she was in a burned out house.  You know she ate the occupants and set fire to it?  And why did she set fire to it?  To eat the firemen.  I knew she could not be destroyed.  Our fragile pact with demons and angels at the time forbid it.  So I did what I could."

"You're worried the Devil will find out, aren't you?"

"He is... " Lady Sarcastia placed her hand over her mouth.  "He is of concern."

"You handle Harona, and yet you're afraid of a half breed?  Personally, I would have considered her a great ally."

"Yes, well that war is OVER isn't it?"

Lady Vapora laughed.  "Look at you.  Do you think this truce will last?  Do you really think the demons and angels will just go back to harvesting souls who died naturally?  Do you really think this will last until our bones crumble to dust?"

Lady Sarcastia pulled out a bowl, and waved her cigarette holder over it.  "I try and keep my ears open at all times."

Lady Vapora laughed.  "Your ears.  Your ears, and your conscience, I might add, have been listening to us gabber like the old ladies were are for the last 10 minutes."

"DONNABEL!!!!"

Donnabel snapped back to the present. "Oh dear, Sad Fairy.  I do seem to be drifting a lot, don't I?  I came here to talk to you, and I just start going into these flashbacks like --"

"DONNABEL???" screamed Lady Sarcastia's voice from somewhere outside the library.

"Hey... that was for real!"  She stood up, and quickly headed to the stairs, but then stopped, backed up, and kissed her hand which she placed on Sad Fairy's stone.  "I'll be back!  I'll read to you.  So's you don't get bored."

"DONNABEL???" screamed Lady Sarcastia's voice with a LOT more impatience.

And Donnabel escaped back to her present, leaving Sad Fairy's stone alone in a room with a semi-mechanical singing guardian softly singing to herself an old song about orphans.

----------------------------------
So far Untitled - Chapter 8: The Visitors

Lady Sarcastia paced impatiently.

Donnabel rushed into the receving room, and keened in her place next to Harona.  Several Gate Keepers were present, also kneeling.  On the far wall, a strange blue field twitched and crackled.  It was one of the gates Lady Sarcastia was personally guarding, and from the glow, it appeared to be activated.

"Donnabel, you are late."

"Sorry m'lady," Donnabel said to the floor, "I was ... I was attending to my duties."

"Don't fret, Doannbel.  Sad Fairy will be released soon enough.  Now, since you are late, I will be foreced to repeat what Harona, Dementia, Scarabina, Purginia, and Skaren have already heard.  I don't like repeating myself--"

"Sorry m'lady..."

"-- and DON'T interrupt!"  Lady Sarcastia paused, and looked at a large pocketwatch that hung from her dress.  "It appears our visitors are delayed.  Recent events have forced a change in our plans.  As you know, we have been shifting disctricts that we control.  As the human population grows, so does the number of visitors.  And with increased visitors comes increased travelers that we must control.  The Soot Man is a good example of what we do not want loose.  Because of Winnidread and Harona's recent encounters, we have decided it would be best if we bolstered our ranks."

Lady Sarcatsia looked at her pocket watch again, and then at Marideath, who was sitting behind a table on the opposite end of the room.  "Marideath has sensed a change in forces that could only be accomplished by something that had bending capability, and the dragon kind have now officially assured us that no more of their kind are present in this area.  That means someone else has the capability of bending, and we have decided to bring in an expert."

Almost as if that was the cue the gate was wating for, it crackled and sparked.  The deep blue turned brighter shades, and rays of white light shot from cracks in the air in front of the gate.  Squiggles of light, like stray threads, began to dance and sway, increasing in number until they started to take shape as three forms.

Lady Sarcatia stood in front of the appearing forms, and shouted in full ceremonial voice, "Welcome, Lord Coalpitch and Harajuku!"  As suddenly as they appeared, the gate turned a midnight blue, and went dormant.  Standing in front of Lady Sarcastia were three human forms.  

The first was a thin man who was easily over six feet tall, and wearing spectacles.  His Victorian-era garb suggested he was older than Lady Sarcatsia, but did not look older than a pale man in his early 30s.  He was carrying a large, brown suitcase.  Next to him was an Asian girl in a black bustle dress with layers of petticoats.  Her long, thick, tightly-braided hair hung down to the back of her knees, and the only thing she carried was what looked like a parasol.  Behind her, was a shorter Asain girl wearing blue overalls, carrying several bags on a yoke.

"Thank you for that welcome," the man said.  His voice was loud, and deep, and felt like folds of thick velvet as it drifted past everyone's ears.  "Lady Sarcastia.  We have never met, but Lady Vapora spoke highly of you."

Donnabel stole a glance at Harona instinctively upon hearing Lady Vapora's name.  But if Harona was upset at hearing her former Lady's name, she did not flinch.

"Lord Coalpitch, you kind words are accepted and cherished.  And... Harajuku.  I trust your travels have also been pleasant."

"Yes," she said with almost minimal effort.  She was scanning the room, and looked at Harona kneeled on the floor, and noticed her tremble.  She then turned to Lady Sarcastia.  "Behind me is Shikyo Kuriketto, my assistant."  Shikyo bowed as best she could under the strain of the weight of her yoke.  She shook slightly, which seemed to displease Harajuku, who tapped the yoke with her parasol.  

Harajuku, named from the older fields where they first appeared, never had individual names that were mentioned outside of Harajuku.  All were addressed Harajuku by the Gate Keepers, during rare moments such as these when they crossed paths.  Harajuku were an elite force of dragon-trained women who were barely understood, and often confused for dragons themselves, since dragons now almost always assumed human form for the last 150 years.  Most stayed on their mysterious island that most mundanes knew as Japan, and rarely traveled outside Tokyo proper.  While they spent most of their lives hidden around Meiji Jingu Shrine, in recent years, they have become more pronounced, and spawned thousands of human copycats so they could hide in plain view.  It was very much the type of draconic thing the ironic Harajuku would do; create their own cover.  They were training in dragon-style martial arts, including bending, as well as Akido, Kung Fu, Judo, and their own style of Ninjitsu, simply called Ah Lin.

Lady Sarcastia bowed, and her guests bowed in return.

"I see your new eyes are working well," Lord Coalpitch said, turning slightly in Marideath's direction.  

Lady Sarcastia hinted a smile and closer her eyes.  "She is very gifted, yet raw.  It will take time for her to reach... Jason's level."

"And how is our elder wyrm?"

"He is well, yet troubled.  But more on that later.  My assistants shall help you to your quarters.  Harajuku?  You go with Donnabel and ... I am afraid I didn't expect Sh... Shikyo?"

Harajuku nodded.  "She stays with me.  At all times during my stay."

"Oh, well... then I will arrange for a cot, then.  Donnabel?"

Donnabel raised, and locked eyes with Harajuku, and instantly averted them as if burned by the sun.  She had forgotten that one cannot look directly at a Harajuku.  "Yes, m'lday?  I mean, yes.  Yes, I will escort--"

"No." Harajuku said softly, but it was as if she thumped the very air in the room itself.  "I will take the mute."

A look of pained displeasure quickly crossed Lady Sarcastia's face before vanishing deep in the folds of her diplomacy.  She paused long enough to make her assertion, but relented with.  "Yes.  I will have Harona help you...  Then... ah, Donnabel will assist Lord Coalpitch to his quarters."

Lord Colapitch tipped his head in agreement.

"Dementia and Scarabina, you will set up my chambers for our welcome meal.  Purginia and Skaren, come with me and Marideath, as we prepare our adgenda for the following meeting.  I will see all of you in one hour and six minutes in my chamber."

Lady Sarctasia went over to Marideath's table, and led her out of the room with Purginia and Skaren in tow.  Dementia and Scarabina went down another hallway, and Donnabel tried to assist Lord Coalpitch with his suitcase, but was declined.  She led him out of the room, leaving Harajuku, Shikyo, and Harona alone in the room.  Harona was still kneeling, facing the floor.

"Harona," said Harajuku, pointing to Harona's slightly trembling head.

<I>Y-yes... my... master.</i> mouthed Harona.

"It has been a long time."

Harona was fighting back tears.  <I>It has been.</i> After a long paused, she signed, <I>I am enquiring to your... solitiude.</i>  Harona never forgot her years of training under Harajuku.  She knew that nothing must be addressed in the form of a question to her master.

Harajuku did not change expressin, but stood back into a straight position, and stared out into space.  "My mourning of my master was exactly 50 years.  As required."

<I>Your... purpose is... clouded.</i>

"Your instincts have never dulled.  My purpose is not clouded, however, but always layered and camoflaged.  A layer I grant you is that in my solitude, I have realized that my master..." Harajuku paused.  A sign of emotion such as a pause, when not said in warning, was a rare sight.  "... would require me to carry on my former training."

<I>You wish to teach me,</i> signed Harona whose heart started to feel warm with opportunity.

"I wish to train you.  I will also require your tracking skills.  After my master passed into the realms beyond our contact, I was asked a final task to arrange for the concealment of his daughter.  I regret that the secrecy involve meant I ceased contact with you, but it was not only neccessary that I go into solitude, but that in case the foul murderers captured me, that I would also not know of her whereabouts."

Tears started to pour down Harona's face, and drip onto the floor.  <I>Oh my master...</i> she mouthed.

"When I returned, I sought out her path, and it led me here.  I have it on word of flight that she was under the care of her uncle in this area very recently.  I will teach her all that her father taught me. It is my destiny and a tribute to his legacy."

Harona started to hiccup, unsuccessfully stifling choking sobs.

"Your behavior is undisciplined!" Harajuku said with sudden fury.  Shikyo reflexively cringed.  "Why do you cry?  Eh?  Did you think I abandonded you because you are so important that it matters?"

<I>No...</I> Harona mouthed, sucking in sobs and moaning in grief.  She fell to the floor, and rolled on her side.

"This is pathetic.  I heard you had trained under different masters!  Did they train you to whimper like a dog?"

<I>Fu Lin's daughter...</I> signed Harona, who was now shaking so hard with sadness, she could abrely be understood.

"Get up!  GET UP!"  

Harona rose to her feet, and wiped her wet face with her sleeve.

"You are like a child!  No better than where I left.  Did that little girl scare you so bad that the thought of you having to take care of her again caused you to sob like a spoiled child who didn't get a new bonnet for sunday?"

Harona just shook her head.  <I>No...</i> she mouthed.

"Then why do you sob before me?  Such sobbing is only for mourning.  I mourned for 50 years because someone murdered my master, and I am out for vengeance.  I have a blood oath to protect his family, and find who killed Master Fu Lin and his wife.  I spent 50 years in totaly darkness to focus my thoughts and prepare for my war.  Tell me, who do you mourn for?"

There was a long silence, scattered only with the soft sniffles of Harona.

"No."  Harajuku said.

Harona nodded.

"It can't be."

Harona screwed up her face, and collapsed to the ground, her sobs turning into a siren that opened the wounds of her memories.

"Harona, Donnabel, Sad Fairy?" Lady Sarcatsia had once asked.  "I have broguht you here to... inform you of some very disturbing events."

The trio had just come back from a visit to New York City.  They had been sent for several months to guard a package during a transition near some of the gates on Ellis Island.  When their duty was over, they decided to take "the long way home" by going north to Salem, where they were going to be "lost" for a weekend before returning.  Salem was a great retreat for Gate Keepers; the whole area was so desperate to purge itself of guilt from the Salem Witch trials of 1620, that pretty much anything went.  Lady Damantha, the leader of the district, was pretty loose and easy-going.  But upon arrival, Genegrieve, looking white and shaken, asked the trio to report at once to Lady Sarcastia.

"Please kneel," Lady Sarcastia said.  The trio knew this was serious.  Harona thought that their "detour" was to be the subject, since Harona was barely allowed to be alone, much less be part of anything ingonito, even with her friends.

But it wasn't.

"When was the last time you saw Misabel?"

"About five months ago," said Donnabel.  "She seemed troubled over something."

"I know," Lady Sarcastia said with a shallow voice.  "I placed her with humans, for... reasons that were unclear to her."

"She was half human," said Sad Fairy.  "You said she needed to see humans more often."

"I am aware of what I said, and that is not exactly what I said, but that does not matter now.  She's... gone."

Donnabel felt the pit of her stomach drop.  "W-where did she go?"

"You are sure you haven't seen or heard from her in the last five months?"

The trio shook their heads.  This sounded serious.  Lady Sarcatsia and Misabel had never seen eye to eye, but it seemed that Misabel respected her enough to do her bidding.

"Did she run?" asked Sad Fairy.

"Where did she go?" asked Donnabel, who started to think about her possible haunts.

"Be quiet!" shouited Lady Sarcatsia.  She rarely lost her temper, but it was apparent she was very unstable.

<I>Is she okay?</I> asked Harona.

"Be quiet and listen."  Lady Sarcastia took a deep breath.  "She's gone.  We don't know where.  She's decided to find her demon heritage, left the Gate Keepers, and killed a bunch of humans in her wake."

All of the trio kneeled on the floor had the same thought, "That doesn't sound so bad... almost like a normal day's work sometimes... who did she kill, some government leader?"

"She killed children."

"Oh," said Donnabel in realization.

"No.. no no, it gets worse.  She didn't just kill human children.  They die every day.  She had gotten involved with... and I don't know how... but ... a fire thing--."

"Yes," said Donnabel.  "Fu Lin's daughter."

"I KNOW WHO SHE IS, CHATTERBOX!!!" shouted Lady Sarcatsia.  "NOW... if your usual quips of trivia are done, I would like to inform all of you, unless Donnabel has something more to add..."

Donnabel shook her head.

"... she murdered Fu Lin's daughter."

Donnabel and Sad Fairy gasped in shock.  They both then looked at Harona.

That memory cut through time and shattered on the floor between Harona and Harajuku.  Harona was sniveling and sobbing, crying in a croaking manner, as she did on the floor of Lady Sarcatsia's private chambers only a year ago.  She looked at the stone cold look on Harajuku's face, and she regained some composure.

Harajuku was silent, but the bridge of her nose was starting to show a line of white.  "W-who killed her?"

<I>The Half Breed.  A half demon, half human.  We don't know how.  We found her dead next to a human, an Eye Walker, who was almost dead himself. </I>  Harona was still trembling.  <I>Master... I am... so sorry.  I didn't even think... you had gone and...</i>, her hands slapped into each other as she spoke, <I>... I didn't even know if I'd ever see you again, and ... oh, I don't know what to say.</I>

"Regain your senses," Harajuku commanded softly.  "Who was her charge?"

<I>I was told her uncle... or grandfather... I don't know who he was, really, but he --</I>

"How was lady Sarcastia involved?"

<I>She... was the charge of the Half Breed</I>

Harajuku furrowed her brow.  "This makes things... very complicated."

----------------------------------
So far Untitled - Chapter 9: Donnabel's Reading

Donnabel didn't know what to think about dinner.  She didn't like formal settings to begin with, but her friend Harona looked like she had been beaten severely, and kept staring into space.  And while Harajuku and her assistant were very silent, they kept staring at Donnabel like a lion watching prey.  Lady Sarcastia and Lord Coalpitch seemed oblivious, they chatted and laughed like old friends.

"Donnabel," said a voice from an open door.  It was Marideath's room.  She hadn't been present at the dinner, and Donnabel wondered why.  "Donnabel, please come in and close the door behind you."

Donnabel entered Marideath's room.  It had once been a storage area for several arcane objects, and a few of them still existed on a set of shelves in a dark corner, covered with a large plastic blue tarp.  Marideath was sitting at a table next to her small bed.  

"Close the door behind you..." Marideath said urgently.

Donnabel made an apologetic look, and closed the door.

"Lock it, please."

Donnabel thought this was unusual, but complied.  The lock was a very large and old tumble-bolt with a huge brass key. As she pulled out the key, Marideath said, "Leave the key in the door."

"It's like you're not blind at all," Donnabel said.

"No.  And I am seeing far more than I'd like to.  Please..." Marideath gestured in front of the table.  "... sit."

"Um... there's no... chair."

"Oh," said Marideath in confusion.  "I suppose Lady Sarcastia needed it for the dinner.  No matter.  Have my chair and I will sit on the edge of the bed."

Marideath groped around, her dark blue eyes staring uselessly at nothing in front of her.  Donnabel helped her scoot the huge table closer to the bed, and then seated herself in Marideath's chair.  Then both of them sat in silence and Marideath fondled her deck of cards.

"Um... what do you want?" asked Donnabel finally.

"I am trying to find the right display to show you... please try and keep your loud voice down."

"Oh..." said Donnabel, covering her mouth and whispering.  "Sorry."

"You are in great danger."

Donnabel found this a bit surprising.  "Um... why?"

"I don't know.  I needed you here to see if I could clarify this reading.  I skipped dinner because I was trying to get a fix on the danger that has suddenly been presented.  I got a reading a week ago that told me that you were in danger, but it was unclear as to why.  After Harona's encounter with the Soot Man at the obelisk, I thought that was it, but a few hours ago, it got so strong, Lady Sarcastia wanted me to meditate on it.  But the cards are unclear, and I need a missing piece of the puzzle. I need you."

Donnabel wasn't sure what this meant, but her caring instinct kicked in.  "Sorry you missed dinner, would you like something from the larder?  We have some chocolate bars and sugared cereal..."

"I did not call you here to fetch and fill my belly."

Already she's talking like Lady Sarcastia, thought Donnabel.

"Please place your hands on mine," said Marideath, placing the deck between her outstretched arms.  

Donnabel had been read like this before, a long time ago by the elder wyrm, Jason.  She gingerly placed her hands on Marideath's wrists, and flinched only a little, because she expected the vice-like grip.  A hot feeling traveled up her arms, and her vision clouded with a thick red fog and gold dots of light.

"Why did you never become Lady Sarcastia's eyes?" asked Marideath.

"I... I don't know--"

"LIAR.  TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!"

Donnabel hadn't thought about that date in a long time.  She sensed her mind being probed in clumsy trusts by Marideath's powerful presence.  She struggled a little under her grip, but Marideath held on tight.  Donnabel closed her mind.  By instinct, she started to talk.

"I don't know.  Sad Fairy is trapped in stone, and I am afraid.  I think that Harajuku is the same one Harona trained with--"

"You can't avoid me forever!!!" shouted Marideath in a harsh whisper.  "Who do you really work for?"

<I>SHIT</I> thought Donnabel, and started to panic.  She kept talking.  

"I-I cannot look back, I have no regrets!  I have no regrets!  I was at the mall.  Sad Fairy was caught because we left her whiskers.  Nathan could be a good cat candidate for crossing.  Lady Sarcastia does not like felines the Harajuku dark walking  in the night but might have had a love interest with Lord Coalpitch and I was the one who released Misabel!!  OH MY GOD, I AM SORRY!!  I felt so bad for cats her.  THEY BLAME ME CHASING MICE BECAUSE I PLEADED HER CASE!!! I DIDN'T KNOW SHE WOULD TURN AGAINST US I LOVED HER LIKE CAT MY BEST FRIEND!!!"

"STOP TRYING TO BLOCK ME!!"  Marideath's grip on her was now so tight, her thumbs pierced the skin and dark blue blood started to pool in the divots.

Another voice came into her head.  "No," it said softly.

Marideath was blown backwards as if she had been hit with a large club.  She flipped and tumbled over the bed, sending the cards scurrying into all the corners of the room.  Donnabel kicked the table aside and collapsed to the floor, pounding the stone in anguished fury.  "LEAVE ME ALONE!!  LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!!  I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYONE SAYS ABOUT HER!!  SHE LOVED US ALL!!  I DON'T CARE IS SHE WAS A FUCKING HALF DEMON, SHE HAD A HUMAN SOUL AND A HUMAN CONSCIENCE YOU FUCKERS!!!  SHE SAVED OUR LIVES!!"

The room went quiet, and faded with the soft moans of Donnabel weeping.

Marideath pulled herself up onto the bed.  "I'm sorry... that didn't go as I planned."

"Leave me alone."

"No no, Misa--I mean Donnabel, please.  I didn't mean to go that far.  I-I... didn't mean to hurt you."

"I have to go."

"Please, come back.  You're in terrible danger."

Donnabel stopped.  "I feel I am always in terrible danger.  That's how I survive."  She rubbed her wrists, and noticed the dark smears.

Marideath crawled up to the bed.  "Please, you have to know... you have to leave.  The Harajuku thinks you are responsible for the death of Fu Lin's daughter.  Lady Sarcastia has been alerted.  Until thinks settle down here... you'll have to go to your second master."

"W-what?  Lady Sarcastia is my Lady in Consciousness--"

"NO!  Listen.  There is a... place.  A place you can go to.  You know.  Go now.  Go home."

"You mean back to the power st--"

"NO.  The OTHER home.  Warm.  Soft.  Sunlight."

"Sunlight hurts my eyes..."

"DONNABEL EVERY MINUTE YOU STAY HERE YOU RISK BEING CUT APART!"

Donnabel paused, and looked at Marideath's eyes.  Marideath blinked very slowly.  Donnabel let out a slight gasp.

"Don't ask how I know.  I know why you never became Lady Sarcastia's eyes now.  Go home.  She does not know, and I don't think it's wise for her to know why you could not be fully loyal to you."

"B-but... wait.  H--?  No, wait.  I haven't been--"

"Yes, I am lady Sarcastia's eyes, but I am also Marideath.  I don't tell her everything.  I just had to make sure.  Things are about to become chaotic, and it's important that you three stay together.  And to do that, you must all hide.  Sad Fairy is safe.  You have to be safe.  You have to save Harona, but it's not the right time now.  Harona has to make a tough decision, and you can't be with her until she makes that choice.  Now go home.  Time means nothing, she's waiting for you.  Go hhhome..."

Donnabel backed out of the room.  Her mind raced with thoughts.  She suppressed some memories for so long, she didn't know how to deal with them so close to the surface of her consciousness.  But she knew she had to leave before anyone else found out.  She raced down the hallway.  She started to run faster and faster.  She raced past the kitchen, where Scarabina and Purginia were washing dishes in a large stone sink that was once a sarcophagus.

"What was that?" asked Scarabina.

"The Harajuku, probably" said Purginia with a shrug.

But Donnabel did not hear them, as she shot out an exit with such force, it sucked a vortex of dead leaves behind her.  They followed her form across a highway, through some woods, and finally thinned out a mile away.

Home again, home again... jiggity jog.
---------------------------------------------------------
So far Untitled - Chapter 10: Harona's Choice

Harona hadn't trained this hard in decades.  She had tossed off her 1890s-era buttondown shoes, and was crouched barefoot on the stone floor of the large room.  The room was so large, that in the dim lighting, one could not see the walls.  Harona held onto a large torch that flickered angrily, reflecting the same thing in her eyes.  Her other hand held a small stick where a wad of wet cloth was wrapped around it.  Her mouth was shut, and partially pursed in an odd expression.  The bridge of her nose was white, and her brow furrowed in concentration.  

Then she leapt from her position, and twirled in mid air.  She landed her feet along a stone column, pushed off it and spun vertically like a top, slowing her arc.  The cloth unwrapped into a long ribbon, and as she fell, it unwrapped around her and trailed behind like the tail of a comet.  When she hit the floor, she bounded upwards and spun in the air again, landing gracefully on one foot, only to spring even higher, where she twisted in mid air, drawing the ribbon of cloth into a spiral.  Then she fell downwards into an swooping arc, fell on her hands, which pushed back, and she twirled the ribbon in front of her.  Just as the ribbon made a perfect spiral cone in front of her face, she took the barely lit torch and blew a huge spray of alcohol from her mouth, shooting a jet of flame through the alcohol-soaked cloth, igniting it into a huge code of fire that spread outwards, let the entire room, and coated a 20 foot diameter area of floor with a footprint of flame witch burned hotly for a few moments, then flickered out, and left a sooty ring in its wake just as Harona landed on the floor and returned to a crouched position; her hands outreached and holding two daggers.

"Very good," said Lady Sarcastia as the rod and torch clattered to the floor.

She looked at Harona stare at the floor, shaking a little, but not moving.

"Sorry to interrupt your practice, but we need to speak."

<I>Ironic choice of words,</i> mouthed Harona.

"Yes, you are a mute.  But you speak as well as anyone, even if your voice does not reflect that.  I have told the others to pay more attention to you, for you have a lot of experience--"

<I>Did you come here to stroke the fur of my ego, or does your visit have a purpose?</i> signed Harona.

"ON YOUR KNEES!" shouted Lady Sarcastia.

Harona paused, but then bowed before her, and stayed kneeled, her face towards the floor.

"I don't know where you picked up your insolence.  No.  I correct that.  I know who did.  But that doesn't matter right now, because I want to tell you something."  Lady Sarcastia placed her left hand on Harona's head, and noticed the newly-tightened braids.

"When I was given this district by Lady Vapora, I was honored.  But I didn't know the Great Depression was about to happen.  Those were some hard times of all of us.  The days before the Light That Changed Everything.  But when Lady Vapora offered you to me, I was... stunned.  Do you know why I was stunned?"

Harona shook her head in Lady Sarcastia's light grasp.

"I was stunned because of what a sacrifice Lady Vapora had made for me.  I knew that if she gave up her claws, and she referred to you as her Right Claw, you knew that, right?"

Harona nodded as Lady Sarcastia removed her hand and started to pace, keeping her eyes locked on Harona's head.

"I was shocked that Lady Vapora had given me her Right Claw.  After the wars between the demons and angels had ended, I didn't think I needed someone of your... skills.  But Lady Vapora gave you to me as a gift. And I didn't know what to say or do with this gift.  I must admit, many times I shuffled you to some menial jobs out of confusion.  This neglect, plus the distraction after the Light That Changed Everything, never let a bond between us grow.  I mean, yes, I sent you after some rum runners in the 1930s, and placed you on some battlefronts in the Second World War, but no real... face it, you were never my right claw.  You were a vestigial need at most.  So when you vanished in the 1950s, I almost didn't send anyone to go look for you."

Harona said nothing.

"Stand up, Harona.  I want to see your eyes."

Harona stood up slowly, head down, and then raised it, looking blank and expressionless... as if her nonchalance was her defiance.

"Good.  I want you and I to see eye-to-eye on this."

<I>I know what you are going to say,</i> mouthed Harona.

"Do you now?  I bet you think I am going to give you an apology.  Well I am not.  I am going to give you, however, a chance to understand where we stand today."

"When you vanished, the rumors were true: I hardly noticed.  It took me weeks until I saw a dragon in a New Year's parade in Chinatown that I realized I hadn't seen you in a while.  I started to feel around.  Further and further.  Back then, I wanted Donnabel to be my eyes, and she was just awful.  But she was better than nothing, and in a few months, she said she had found you on the other side of the United States in Chinatown.  Training with a Harajuku."

"Which brings us to the Harajuku.  A proud race, they are.  I sent a messenger to ask you why you left.  You replied you had never left, but was in training.  A nice compromise.  But I worried, because I know the Harajuku train with dragons, and like dragons, they show no loyalty, even to their own kind.  They are like demons, but without the powers.  But they also train demons, subdue them, and I knew that if they could subdue some of the most ferocious things to ever cross into our own dimension, they could handle you.  I figured if you were kept busy, I wouldn't have to worry so much.  After all, I knew you had the blood of the Consciousness in your veins, and treachery would be difficult at best.  I would know if you left."

<I>Did you know when the Half Breed left?</i> asked Harona.

"Yes.  It burns like fire.  We all felt it.  You and your pals claim not to have known, you were out having a party in Salem or something.  I am not sure what spared you the horrible ripping and burning sensation she did to us when she left--"

<I>She betrayed all of us!</I>

"I never said that.  I said she left us."

Harona momentarily changed expression in mild surprise.

"Yes, she left us, and why she left us is complex and multi layered.  Her acts were against the consciousness.  She killed children, and broke and old pact with your... Harajuku's master's daughter.  She did some horrible things... but did she really betray us, Harona?"

<I>I... uh... um...</I>

"Your trio only know a small part of why the Half Breed was born.  You know nothing of her past.  But that's not what I am here to talk about.  This is about you.  Now, I worried when you trained, and finally spoke to Lady Vapora, who was so shocked I had let you go so far away, she nearly dropped her Mint Julep in her onion soup."

Harona let a smirk momentarily escape.  She had forgotten that Lady Vapora has a passion for mint and onion.

"She screamed at me for hours about what might happen.  The Harajuku were not to be trusted.  The Harajuku were using you for something.  How dare I let her go?  Oh, Harona, she went on and on until I agreed to get you back.  So, I sent for you to return, and you refused.  This was not a position you should have put me in, but you said that you had been entrusted in the care of a small child, which made no sense.  A babysitter?  Harona?  Who once killed 90 German soldiers in a desert battle with a stone and pocket knife?  The one who fought off the Salamanders in the sucking flames of the Bombing of Dresden?  The one they sent to kill Grigory Rasputin?  I thought our messages were being mistranslated.

"So, with Lord Coalpitch's help, we travelled to San Francisco and found some allies... and I used that term loosely... of Harajuku we freed from Tule and Topaz during Executive Order 9066.  I am surprised they even remembered us, but one of them said she knew your new master, and went to go talk to her.  I don't know if she ever did or not, because Dragon Leader of all the West Coast, Fu Lin, was brutally murdered along with his wife.  A crime that shall forever haunt me... 

"Anyway, I was the one who had to ... tell Fu Lin's daughter, you know.  None of the Harajuku wanted to, and I don't know HOW they would have managed to pull that off, but they were FURIOUS when they saw me with this crying dragon hatchling.  They refused to help me any more, and left with her.  I didn't see her until last year, shortly before she died.  She was sent to stay with her grandfather or uncle... it's so hard to tell those words apart from each other in dragon tongue... anyway I searched for a while, and then was was about to give up and return home, when I heard on the police radio about an unusual explosion in the Haight Ashbury district."

<I>I am sorry about that.</i>

"Yes, and I don't expect any more apologies about that.  As I stood with you, shaking in the wet ruin of that coffee house, you said something to me... do you remember?"

<I>I do.</I>

"What was it you said?"

<I>I... I said I rejected you and your... your... </i>

"You said you rejected me and all gate Keepers.  You called us all shallow liars holding a peace that will collapse upon us in the worst way, and then you tried to kill me by telling me my past."

Harona was silent.

"You tried to kill me in furious anger.  It was then I realized what the Harajuku had done to you.  They had enslaved you, letting you suckle from their vacant breast that fed you lies in the form of training.  I believe that the very Harajuku that is under my roof, right now, is that same Harajuku.  They may all look alike, and have the same name, but they have subtle differences.  And the moment she picked you to carry her things, I knew she was the one.  I knew the moment she got you alone, she'd find some way to make you feel sorry for someone, and use that human emotion of loyalty against you."

Harona did not move.

"Yes, you may be morphus, and who knows what the hell all those gills are doing under that dress.  But you are a trained killer, not a born killer.  You were trained by Lady Vapora, and fueled by your past.  You are one of the few Gate Keepers who can look at the time before the Crossing, and face it openly without crumbling to dust.  But as wet, soggy charcoal fell on our hair that fateful day in San Francisco... you found one other Gate Keeper could look back."

Harona nodded with gritted teeth.

"I could.  That's what makes me a Lady.  I have powers that you don't.  And that INFURIATED you.  You took a slash at me, and as I ducked, you fled into the steaming streets of the night, past some firefighters, and over a hill.  I didn't see you again for several years."

Harona nodded again.

"I thought you went back to the Harajuku, and imagine my shock when I heard you were seen on some battleground in another dimension.  Fighting alongside some huge... jellyfish helium bag-like creatures.  Huh.  I wouldn't have expected a race that could be popped would have lasted a minute with you.  But you breached a peace that their harvesters had been trying to keep.  So I was sent to find you.  But you hid, and I didn't find you.  This sort of thing went on for a while, didn't it?"

Harona flashed her eyes at Lady Sarcastia, but did not say anything.

"So finally, I had to ask an elder wyrm to take care of it.  Luckily, Jason was more than up to the task.  And when his people caught you and brought you back to me, I put you in stone right away.  Right?"

Harona nodded, but her face twisted in defiance.

"I could have killed you.  I could have left you entombed with that insufferable singing toy cart until your stone turned to dust.  But what about that pair of eyes that was bad at seeing?  Donnabel?  She had become my conscience.  She found you, dusted you, and read to you.  She wanted to give you a second chance.  And guess what?  I did.  I gave you a second chance in less than a decade, and you were very obedient."

Harona said nothing, but her defiant look faded.

"I had Donnabel stay with you, because while she wasn't the best Gate Keeper, I thought your skills were complementary.  I kept the package guarding and delivering interesting.  Then, when Sad Fairy needed a companion, I saw the very anger flash in her eyes that Lady Vapora saw in yours, back in that ditch in Baltimore.  Sad Fairy was only 8 when she turned, and she kept the Halloween costume she was wearing when she was beaten to death my her own father that Halloween night.  You found her in the emergency room, remember?  All battered and bloody.  You said it was a shame, she looked so cool.  That was the first time I ever heard you express compassion.  So I spent some time with her as she died, and she crossed under a full moon.  But her anger didn't quell.  Not at all.  My mistake was I hadn't turned someone so young before, and she's still fighting the years of abuse she endured under her so-called human parents.  And we all know she's going morphus with those wings and antennae.  From butterfly fairy princess to moth that hunts in the night.  But it was like a magical click.  Together with you and Donnabel, you made a good team."

Harona looked wistful.

"Yes, things were good.  For a while.  Then Donnabel pleaded the case for M... the Half Breed.  That's when it started to go wrong.  She was a BAD influence."

Harona almost cracked a smile again, and turned her eyes up.

"Yes.  But it wasn't all fun and games.  You four ended up in one fiasco after another.  Then she showed her demon side one too many times, and I had to show her that she had an... another side as well.  So I sent her to mingle with humans.  She had to learn how they sympathized.  I didn't want her to expect to be full-demon, as she cherished and practically worshipped as being superior.  She had another destiny.  But she didn't do too well with humans.  Sadly, I didn't leave her very well supervised, and when I found she was mingling with a young dragon... I tried to put a stop to it, but it led to problems."

Harona started to fidget.

"I can't divulge those problems.  She had a lot of trouble dealing with that other half.  She didn't know who she was, and started to collapse, and became schizophrenic.  There was a LOT of screaming.  I kept you guys away from her.  Why did you think that was?"

Harona paused, and then realized she was asked a question.  She shrugged and said, <I>I guess so she wouldn't be a bad influence?</i>

"No.  I did it to save your lives.  And good thing, too.  When she killed a dragon, I realized it had gotten out of hand, and got Jason to help me control her.  But it was too late.  She had opened up a portal to the Realm of the Dead, and vanished."

Harona's eyebrows raised.  <I>I thought that Realm was way beyond being a Gate.</i>

"So did I.  But she is a demon, and nearest Jason and I can figure out, must have sacrificed a human.  I don't know of the final events before she left, but it left Fu Lin's daughter dead and the Eye Walker, that dragon's human companion, near death.  She poisoned him.  He might have been the sacrifice, I don't know, because he smelled like a Death Gate, but had somehow survived."

Harona hadn't heard the whole story until now, and started to look pensive.

"I saw you and Harajuku look at Donnabel at the table. I don't know what you have planned for her, but the Harajuku is not beyond killing her."

<I>Harajuku... not THE Harajuku...  THE Harajuku is plural--</i>

"Skip the damn formalities, Harona.  I know what you must be feeling.  Fu Lin was your master's master, and I may not know a lot about Harajuku, but I know they worship dragonkind unconditionally and unquestioningly.  I know Fu Lin and his daughter must have meant a lot to you.  And until now, you connected his daughter's death with ... the Half Breed.  The Harajuku is going to make you hate Donnabel.  She will try and turn you against me."

Harona shook her head emphatically.  Her eyes conflicted.

"My eyes told me of this event weeks ago.  And no matter what I have done, it keeps unfolding.  I am having trouble keeping control.  Donnabel is missing, and I am worried."

Harona looked alarmed for a second, then regained her composure.

"Yes, Donnabel went missing a few hours ago.  She is completely not reachable by any means, and the only things I can think of are that the Harajuku is blocking my sight, or she is already dead."

Harona's eye began to twitch.

"I can't tell you what to do.  I could lie and say you will do what I ask, because I am your Lady, and you will obey me and the consciousness to the end.  But you have, even at your best behavior, only done three quarters of what I asked.  That other quarter is VERY worrisome right now.  I need to know where your loyalties lie."

<I>They lie with you, lady Sarcastia,</i> Harona said, starting to kneel.

"STAND STRAIGHT!!!  And don't feed me lines, Harona.  Both of us are old enough to know what those sound like.  Reflexes said in fear.  I need to know!"  She grabbed Harona and shook her, looking at her eyes.  "Are you still loyal to the Gate Keepers??"

Harona twisted in the grip, and then looked away with her eyes closed.  <I>Yes.  Yes I am.</I> she mouthed as a tear went down her face.

Lady Sarcastia let go of Harona, watching her step back into the darkness of the room.

"I can only hope Donnabel can be found," Lady Sarcastia said, backing out of the room.  <I>I hope the same for you, Harona...</i> she added to herself as she went back to her chambers.

From the shadowy depths of the large stone room, a lone figure in a kabuki mask stepped forward, her long black robe gliding with no effort or ripple.  She stood behind Harona, who was till staring at the door Lady Sarcastia had exited.

"She is not subtle," said the Harajuku.

<I>She knew you were here,</I> signed Harona.

"You sound certain of that.  My certainty does not have value."

<I>Is it true?  What she said?</i>

"You tell me."

<I>The Harajuku I trained under would not allow herself the luxury of political intrigue.</I>

"That Harajuku has been gone for more than 5 decades.  Where do your loyalties lie?"

<I>They lie with Fu Lin's loving memory of his daughter,</I> mouthed Harona, but did not face Harajuku to let her see.

"I do not know what you said, but it does not matter.  We will deal with their... Soot Man.  It will give us time to plan, Harona.  In the meantime... keep up your practicing.  The Dance of Fire was weak, and did not fill the room with enough heat to warm the walls.  The first lesson in... dragon magic... you get... will be after you have mastered flight and fire."

Harona's delight jumped into her chest as she started to practice with renewed vigor.
----------------------------------
So far Untitled - Chapter 11: Donnabel's Tail

Lord Scanlon twirled his tea with small spoon.  "I hope I don't have to wait long."  He was dressed in a fine black silk Italian suit, wore sunglasses, and had a large gold necklace around his neck of two snakes intertwined.

"What is time?" asked the old woman in front of him.

"Lady Tabitha, you wished to show me something, and now we have to wait for someone?  My time is valuable."

The old woman merely shrugged in reply, and petted one of her many cats.
  
Lord Scanlon thought there was something very odd about this woman.  She was human, but knew of the Gate Keepers.  She acted as an agent of some kind, but it was not certain which.  She had contacted him while he sat in his Toronto home by sending a Gate Keeper by the name of Macie to his door.  He claimed to work for Lady Tabitha, but Lord Scanlon did not know of a Lady Tabitha.  When he asked about her, Macie simply blinked very slowly, and then vanished into his holly bushes.

The message had said to meet her at once in Frederick, Maryland, a city near enough to Washington DC to inherit the headaches of an urban setting, like traffic and crime, without the benefits, like culture.  It was a depressing place that couldn't make up its mind whether it was rural or suburban.  Typical of US expansion, Lord Scanlon thought.

He looked at his watch again.  He had been here for several hours already, without so much of an explanation as to why he was here, or whom he was waiting for.

"There is no Lady Tabitha Gate Keeper," he said for the third time. 

"There are many things you do not know," said Lady Tabitha, in reply for the third time.

Lord Scanlon was losing his patience.  "Are you like Lady Damantha of Salem?  You know, mur--"

"Usurped by her own assistant, and then nobody noticed for 50 years?  No.  I assure you that simply not hearing from me is part of my protection."

There was a timid knock at the door.

Several cats meowed.  Lord Scanlon thought this woman had an awful lot of cats as the woman who claimed to be Lady Tabitha went to answer the door.

As the door opened, the morning sunlight poured in, and framed a rather scared looking girl in a dark gray frock.

"Agatha!" said Lady Tabitha.  "Come in, come in... it's been AGES!"

"I-I am not sure I am in the right house."

"Oh, but of course you are.  I'd recognize my own anywhere.  Well come in, don't just stand there and let the cats out."

The girl stepped into the hallway, and looked at all the golden wood that accented everything.  The place had a strange herbal smell, mixed with the perfume of several flowers she could not identify, but somehow recognized.

"M-my name is... Donnabel--"

"Oh, Agatha... you don't have to use that name here.  You're among friends.  Come sit by the fire, we have a guest."

Donnabel... or Agatha, walked cautiously into the sitting area, while several cats entwined around her legs.  The place looked so foreign, and yet rather familiar.  She looked at her pale complexion and dark clothing in a mirror and felt she looked out of place, like a smudge of soot on a white marble mantelpiece.  A strange and intoxicating herbal smell made her salivate and as she sat on the couch, she instinctively curler her legs under her and looked around.  She felt so... dirty.  Unclean.  If only she could have bathed herself before she came her.

Donnabel didn't know how she arrived.  She only knew she ran all night, sometimes doubling back on her tracks before moving forward again.  It seemed she ran along some old path she did as a small child, but she feared to go to that most dangerous of places: her far memory.  She tried to think of what Marideath had said, and why she blinked like that.  It was that blink.  The blink of some... distant familiar bliss.  Soft.  Warm.  Sunny.

Donnabel grabbed her head, and tried to find comfort in her self-imposed darkness before she caught a glance of another Gate Keeper.  She didn't know who he was, but felt his presence enough to know he was a Lord.

He returned her stare by saying, in a commanding tone, "I am Lord Scanlon."

Donnabel threw herself to floor and kneeled.  "I am D--"

"Agatha, get up!" said Lady Tabitha.  "You don't bow to him in my house."

Donnabel was confused, but got up, then bowed, then got back on the couch and tried to wedge herself into the cushions.  While sunlight was not really dangerous to Gate Keepers, they preferred the darkness, and so the bright light was making her very agitated and nervous.  The cool spots behind the pillows gave her some comfort.

"Lord Scanlon, does Agatha look familiar to you?"

"No," Lord Scanlon said, a bit irritated, fingering his gold necklace.  "I believe, however, she is one of Lady Sarcastia's assistants.  Donnabel is a familiar name.  Agatha is not."

"Well," said Lady Tabitha, "we won't call her by that name here.  It isn't her given name."

"No looking back, no regrets," Donnabel whispered to herself as she started to rock herself deeper into the couch.  Several cats jumped on the couch and looked at her.

"Agatha... you must be tired.  Go upstairs and draw a bath.  You will find some more suitable and..." she looked at the dark clothing with a wrinkled nose, "... more modern, colorful clothing to wear."

Agatha said nothing.

"Go." Lady Tabitha commanded, and Agatha jerked in shock, before bolting up the stairs.  She somehow knew the bathroom was the first on the right, and when the sound of water started to run, Lady Tabitha turned back to her guest.

"Now... Lord Scanlon.  You claim you have never seen Agatha.  And yet... I am not so convinced."

"I am a very busy man, Lady Tabitha.  If you do not explain the reason you--"

"NOW is the time, Scanlon.  You think you do not know why you are here, and yet, you will soon realize that your hidden fears are about to come true.  I have reason to believe that you know a lot about who some call, 'The Soot Man,' is that correct?"

Lord Scanlon relaxed a little.  "Yes.  He is a very persistent creature--"

"A rogue harvester, Lord Scanlon.  One who will kill without mercy.  Half Demon, half something else.  I don't even want to know what that other half may be..." Lady Tabitha looked like whatever other half the Soot Man might be was beneath her, "... but the half demon means if he's a rogue harvester, he cannot claim souls for himself.  But works for someone else, am I right?"

"Yes, but we don't know who."

"Is that so?" Lady Tabitha poured herself some more tea while several cats surrounded Lord Scanlon.

"What are you implying?"

Lady Tabitha swallowed noisily, and licked her lips thoughtfully.  "I am curious as to who is before me, someone who is ignorant, or someone who wants me to think he is ignorant?"

"Tell me... who would benefit from rogue harvesting?"

"I suppose... if it's not the Soot Man... then someone else who is controlling him.  Someone who gathers souls."

"Soul gathering is a form of power.  The demons and the angels harvest souls for their universal consciousness.  Heaven and Hell, that sort of thing.  I know you know these things, but you are backing into a corner, Scanlon, and I don't want you trying to escape."

"I don't gather souls, nor am I allied with anyone who does."

"Oh... but you see, I think differently."

"Is that so?  Well, Lady Tabitha, who would I be working for?"

"Ah... that IS a good question."  Lady Tabitha said as she put down her cup of tea.  "If I knew that, I would have simply killed you.  But the fact is--"

"KILLED me?"

"Scanlon, you were right.  I am not a Gate Keeper.  But we have similar goals.  An enemy of theirs is an enemy of mine."

Lord Scanlon stood up over the old lady, and sneered.  "I don't know who you are, but once--"

"Cats, Scanlon.  Dozens, hundreds, thousands of cats are killed daily.  None of them are given proper burial.  None of them are returned to their universal consciousness."

Lord Scanlon said nothing.

"Such beasts become souls ripe for the picking.  They turn black.  They become more like snakes.  It is an unfortunate fate for a feline, Scanlon.  A tortured existence from which they cannot be saved.  There is a name for those zombie servants.  Do you know what that is?"

Lord Scanlon wrinkled his nose while the old woman fingered the large gold pendant around his neck.  

"No?"  the woman said, gripping the necklace.  "The African word for them is Shiante."  

Lord Scanlon tried to jerk back, but the woman held onto the necklace with an incredible grip, and Lord Scanlon could not break free.  "Yes... Scanlon.  Shiante.  And recently, there has been a LOT more of them.  Cats are killed in pounds every day.  A sea of these things are hanging by the ley lines, waiting for me to lead them home, and YOU... YOU have the FUCKING NERVE to deny them their BIRTHRIGHT!"

Lord Scanlon backed away, snapping the chain from around his neck.  The room was now filled with hundreds of cats. 

"I can tell you one entity that can benefit from soul harvesting, Scanlon.  A God."

Lord Scanlon turned white.  "Oh no.  Y--"

"Yes.  I am." and the angered rage of a mother who lost millions of children raised a wrinkled hand.

Lord Scanlon disappeared under a sea of cats that moved over him in a gray liquid blur.

In a bathtub upstairs, a girl curled and screamed.
In a stone arena, a girl putting on buttoned boots curled to the floor and screamed.
At a table sat a young college-age girl, dealing cards for an older woman, and both grabbed their stomachs and screamed.
A Harajuku watched a man who had just been speaking to her about something petty and useless suddenly fall to the floor and scream.  A thin smile passed over her lips.

Hundreds of Gate Keepers screamed.  

Then thousands.

Then tens of thousands.

The girl in the bath gasped for air, trying to quench the burning fire that filled veins and stay above water.  Dark blue liquid started to come from her nose.  "Oh, God MOTHER HELP ME!!!" She fell under the hot sudsy water, and began to lose consciousness when suddenly, a large hand pulled her up and placed her on the edge of the huge clawed tub, gasping and panting.  The figure grabbed a washcloth, and wiped her face clean, and then started to stroke her head and arms.

Donnabel looked at the legs of the old lady in front of her, and thanked her.

"You can't drown, you know," the woman said.

"I just... I didn't..."

"Old habits die hard.  But I heard you scream, and forgot how ... close you were.  Agatha, dear, let me help you out of the water and into a nice night shirt.  Come come... it will be all right... it will be all right..."

The old woman helped her up and got her dressed into a long night shirt that had a child's print of a large teddy bear hugging a heart on it.  She led Donnabel into a large bedroom, that looked like a rich girl's room from the 1940s.

"See?  I left it just as you had it.  Oh, yes, I tidied up a bit, but--"

Donnabel screamed.  Her past reached through time and clutched her heart and tugged hard.  She would turn to dust.  She would die in agony.  She collapsed to the floor, screaming as loud as she could, and clutching her head.

"No no no no... you won't die.  Agatha, listen to me.  Agatha?  AGATHA!" and the old lady slapped her across the bridge of her nose.

Donnabel gasped in shock.  Then she shook.

"Yes, many Gate Keepers will collapse into dust when confronted with their living past, but you ... you won't."

"WHO ARE YOU???" Donnabel asked.  She crawled backwards across the floor and against a cushy bed with pink bedding.

"I am your... aunt.  Well, in a manner of speaking.  Now calm down, and everything will be all right.  All questions will be answered.  But you have to calm down first.  I am expecting you don't remember a lot of your past, but don't worry.  This is a safe place to be right now.  And if it makes you feel any better... you'll return to being a Gate Keeper in a little bit.  But now you have to forget... just like you forgot your past.  Can we do this?"

Donnabel shrieked and cried.

Her aunt sighed, and rolled her eyes.  "I guess not.  Listen, I am probably making things worst, dearie, so I am going to go downstairs and make some more tea.  You come down when you feel better.  Okay?  Kiss kiss..."  

When her aunt had closed the door behind her, a thousand memories came floating back to Agatha like tentacles gripping her senses.  Memories of her Gate Keeper past started to fragment and suddenly, she remembered...

A Garden Party.

It was her sister's 16th birthday.  Big deal.  Her sister was a spoiled brat anyway.  Agatha returned to her book in the wicker chair.

"Agatha, dear..." said her nanny.  "Why not join the other girls?"

"I don't want to," said Agatha.  She took off her huge red velvet bow and threw it on the grass.

"Oh, dearie... you don't mean that," her nanny tried to remove the book from her hands, and Agatha resisted.  "Let GO!  You witch!"

"Gentlemen don't give second looks to girls who read books..." said her nanny sternly, trying to wrestle the book from Agatha.

"Fine!  I don't want gentlemen!  Let Ariel have them!  It's her party.  She can have her legs in the air all day to get those looks!"

Her nanny gasped, and Agatha let go of the book and stuck her tongue out, and then added, "Yeah.  I know why SHE is popular with boys!"

Her nanny slapped her face, and Agatha gasped. 

"We beat you damn Krauts in the war, you know!" Agatha said, but knew she had gone too far with her German-born nanny.  Again.  So she picked up her red velvet bow, and stuck it on her head.  "Fine!" she added, and stomped off up the hill to her sister's stupid party.

"Look, ladies!" said her sister upon arrival.  "It's my dreadful sister, Hagatha.  Where's your book, professor?  I like you reading your books.  It covers that ugly face.  A face too ugly for radio!" she exclaimed, and even though this was the thousandth time she used that insult, all her debutante friends giggled like it was the most clever thing they had heard all day.

"Ariel!" their mother exclaimed, but more out of the fuax pas of an insult rather than defending Agatha.  "Please."

"It's my birthday.  I can have what I want.  And I have decided," she crossed her arms and nodded with a smarmy grin, "that my yam-headed sister will have to be removed.  I don't fancy her."

Agatha looked at the boy nearest her.  "Ruben," she asked, "do you know what Trichomoniasis is?"

The boy made a mock face of being impressed, and said, "No... is it your middle name?"

"Agatha...?" her mother warned sternly, standing because she knew what must happen next.

"It's a venereal disease.  It makes your penis ooze a clear urethral discharge.  In my sister, it's a foamy, greenish- yellow, foul-smelling vaginal discharge where she can't stop scratching her privates because of the vaginal itching, and pain.  And half the men who fuck her..." Agatha looked around at the party, and saw a few gentlemen cross their legs uncomfortably, "now have it..."

"AGATHA!" her mother screamed.

"It's why she keeps having to 'powder her nose' so frequently.  She's just scratching, and then touching the doorknobs and toilet handles..."

"THAT IS ENOUGH!!!" and her mother grabbed her by the ear and dragged her towards their mansion.

"What I want to know is..." Agatha said as she was being dragged away, "is how some of her FEMALE friends got it too?"

Her mother dragged her into the main entrance to the garden, and slammed her against a coat closet door.  Agatha didn't mind, because she was still picturing her sister's male friends crossing their legs, and look at her every time she excused herself to go to the bathroom.  She laughed even though her mother was boxing her ears, because just before the garden party disappeared from view, she saw little Miss Perfect Ella McFadden look at her fingers and sniff them.

"Doesn't that nanny put ANY sense into you?  Huh?  Your sister doesn't have ANY of those--"

"She does, mother, she DOES!  Oh my God, why do you think the doctor gave her those pills?"  She could stop laughing, because she knew it didn't matter anymore.

Her mother beat her left and right, until she finally realized that even with Agatha's mouth bleeding, that she would not stop laughing.  She looked at the butler nearest her, and shouted, "Take-- DO something with HER!" and pointed to Agatha's hooting form on the floor.

"I will take care of HER..." said a voice.  It was Aunt Tabitha.  "Get up, Agatha!  And go to your room!"

Agatha got up and tried to stifle her laughs.  She curtseyed and dipped her head.  "Yes, Aunt Tabitha."

"Where... did YOU come from?" asked her mother.  She then noticed another older woman, dressed a little out of fashion.  "And who is... THAT person?"

Aunt Tabitha smiled.  "I came to celebrate your eldest daughter's birthday.  Her gift is in the car."  She looked at the butler, who was standing awkwardly in indecision.  "Have one of your... assistants here fetch it and deliver it."

"It's not another damn cat, is it?"

Aunt Tabitha's eyes narrowed.  She watched Agatha run up the carpeted stairs, and then looked at the older woman behind her.  "This is ... Lady Sarcastia."

"Oh..." said the mother with distaste, looking up and down at Lady Sarcastia.  "Does she come from a country stuck in 1925?"

"I see you are familiar with our language," said Lady Sarcastia with a wry smile.  She tapped the end of the cigarette holder, dropping ashes on the carpet.  She noticed the shocked look of the mother, and smiled.

"Tabitha... I don't recall where I sent your invitation to...?"

"You didn't.  I came anyway.  But I will deal with Agatha today, since you seem to be incapable of doing so without resorting to violence."

"I..." stammered the mother.  "Spare the rod, spoil the--"

"You don't even have a rod, Edna.  You can't even hire anyone who will put discipline in any of your children.  They are unmannered brats, and apparently one of them has a sexually transmitted disease."  She looked at Lady Sarcastia and rolled her eyes.  "Lovely."

"She most certainly does NOT!"

Tabitha ignored her, and added after looking around, "Edna, I keep bringing 'damn cats' to this place because you seem to keep getting rid of them.  Why is that?"

"Those little rats keep--"

"CATS, Edna.  CATS!  My God, woman, are you so uneducated that my brother has to dress you in the morning?"

"I... I dress myself!" Edna said, clutching her chest, but all her servants suddenly looked elsewhere.  "I SAW THAT!  I am docking a week's pay from ALL of you if--"

"Edna, while it's so wonderful to see you still abusing your assistants--"

"SERVANTS!"

"-- whatever... it seems I will be declined another day to lie in the sun of your lovely garden to deal with your offspring yet again.  I wonder why they all listen to me and not you?"

"I had you evicted last time you spoke to me in that manner," Edna said with fire in her eyes.

But they were interrupted with Ariel running into the house in tears.  "Oh MOTHER!  That dreadful girl has made everyone TEASE me..."

"I'll let you give some medicine to your eldest, and I will deal with Agatha--"

"I hope you BEAT that little HORSESHIT BRAT--"

"Ariel!" her mother exclaimed.

"Your colorful language inspires me, Ariel.  Yes.  How would you like it if... you never had to see Agatha again?"

"I don't care if you cut that little horse's ass into small bits and feed them to your... damn cats!"

"These people really don't seem to appreciate your cats..." Lady Sarcastia said under her breath.

"Sarcastia... not now," replied Tabitha through a grin so fake, it seemed like a dental photo.  "Ariel... it IS your birthday.  Your gift is being fetched from the car."  She paused, and as if to reply to the question that hung in the air, "And it is not a cat.  I figure you folks don't... need them anymore."

Ariel bolted out the the car, powered by sheer avarice.

"And now, Sarcastia, if you don't mind... we shall attend to the other one."

"Punish her good.  And while you are at it, tell her if I catch her with ONE MORE of those damn books..."

"Edna... after I am through with her... you will have NO need to punish her again."

Maybe it was a mother's instinct, but as she saw the pair carefully descend up the stairs side by side, she felt a sudden sense of foreboding.  Then she heard her daughter scream from out front.  She ran to see what the present could possibly be.

"While I do not agree with your methods, I have to say you couldn't have picked a more rotten, contemptible target," Lady Sarcastia said quietly outside Agatha's bedroom door.

There was another, deeper scream, of an older woman.

"I need a new base of operations, and these horrid humans are merely ... rats to exterminate."  Tabitha took off her white gloves, and flexed her fingers.  "But this one I want to save.  Never before have I seen someone who has shown more love towards cats, and she's so smart, I thought she'd be a fine addition to my temple."

"How are you going to deal with a girl who has just dealt with her whole family..." asked Lady Sarcastia, and then stopped and both nodded in unison.  "That's where I come in.  You want me to perform a crossing for her."

"Agatha is a bit precocious, I admit.  Slightly spoiled, but not so much that she'll miss the comforts of living in such a ..." she wiped her white glove over the door jam, and looked at the lack of dust on the result.  "... well mannered existence."

"Never look back," Lady Sarcastia said. "No regrets."

And with that they both opened the bedroom door.

Agatha now sat, curled knee to chin, against the same wall she did many decades ago.  Tabitha.  The woman she knew as Aunt Tabitha, who gave her all those books on the Egyptian occult as a kid, had murdered her entire family right from under her.  She had just... accepted that.  Numb with shock, she watched as dozens of cats coated a 1930's Cadillac Fleetwood, licking off the evidence of blood stains.  Would anyone miss her family?  She wondered what people would say when Tabitha moved in.  Would she be blamed?  Lady Sarcastia said she wouldn't, if she would do as she instructed... and now they had to find a black feather and a soda bottle...

Agatha looked at her hands.  She did not turn to dust.  She also looked a bit more pinkish and normal-toned, although most humans would still call her a classic Irish pale.  Pangs of regret at her childhood brattiness stung her heart.  She wondered if she wouldn't turn to dust at any moment when she thought of these things, but suddenly her thoughts drunk in her memories as thirstily as she drank the blue liquid from the Cup of Knowledge.

That is what she always craved.  Knowledge.  She read more books as a child than any girl she knew.  She was teased in school for being so brainy.  Other girls were cruel and men were just stupid.  She hated them all.  When she showed a boy she liked how to fix his crystal radio, he got mad and slapped her.  Her anger started to boil.  And her parents!  They never supported her because she had an oddly-shaped head.  They always wished, vocally, that she would marry off at a young age, and they could be rid of her like a diseased limb.

No regrets.  She smiled.  No regrets... at all.

She looked down at her night gown, and saw a bear, coated with glitter, smile up at her.  "Except this shirt?! Oh my God, is Tabitha insane?"

----------------------------------

So far Untitled - Chapter 12: The Harajuku's Plan

There were many Gate Keepers packed in the large stone room.  Lord Coalpitch and Lady Sarcastia stood on top of a coffin, and looked at the crowd nervously.  Lord Coalpitch had taken considerable risk to address the most recent situation by asking all but his most vital of assistants to come south and meet.  

"This meeting will be brief," Load Coalpitch started when he thought the time was right.  Harajuku was behind him in the shadows, almost expressionless, but with the slightest hint of a smile.  "Afterwards, this would be a good time to introduce each other.  I would have come up north to be with my people, but situations require I stay here.  Some of you may notice not all my assistants are here; they have been asked to be addressed by Lady Vapora in her compound in Havre De Grace."

Lady Sarcastia continued.  "Many of you felt the huge ripple of the death of one of our own.  This was far stronger and reached further than Winnidread's death of a few weeks ago.  We have gotten word this has spread across the Americas, and even the United Kingdom and parts of France, Spain, and lower Scandinavia have reported feeling it as well."

"Last time this happened on this scale was quite some time ago, when Lord Volcanus was killed by what humans knew as the Zodiac Killer," Lord Coalpitch said.  "Which is why we think that this event was the death of a Lord or Lady."

"Not an assistant," Lady Sarcastia emphasized, and looked at the distant worried looks of her closest staff.  She, too, wondered what happened to Donnabel.  "We are pretty sure this must have been an older Lord or Lady, but we are not sure.  Many have not reported in yet."

"The reason this was so intense was the Lord or Lady's soul was harvested, and ripped from The Gate Keeper Consciousness.  This has not happened in some time."  Lord Coalpitch lowered his brow.  "This had to be a murder."

"Shiante activity was monitored immediately.  After the incident with Winnidread and Harona, it seem to be a good place to start.  However, we found a significant drop in Shiante density in this area, after what seemed like a steady increase since..."

<I>Since the Half Breed left us,</i> mouthed Harona.

"... since a while ago.  Some of you may have remembered when a Gate Keeper of mixed decent left us last year, and a similar thing happened.  But may I remind you, her soul was not harvested.  Same with Winnidread or... well, anyone else."

"Rest assured, we are investigating this," Lord Coalpitch said, quelling the crowd with gentle hand gestures.  "We think the Soot Man has been part of this, since he has been witnessed in a rogue harvesting."

"Some of you may have wondered why the Soot Man did not harvest Winnidread," Lady Sarcastia said, although Lord Coalpitch wished she hadn't, "and we do not know.  He may be getting bolder.  We thought he did not harvest Winnidread because he was afraid we could pinpoint where the soul was going, but now that we have lost anther so violently, and are unable to pinpoint where his or her soul went, that means the soul has not left this plane."

"That means the harvester is still among us." added Lord Coalpitch.  "Now... go and tell the others.  Be careful of the Soot Man.  He kills with Shiante.  He is somehow controlling them, and we will let you know when he has been captured.  This time he won't be sent back, but imprisoned.  Even if he is half demon, Lady Sarcastia has experience with imprisoning such entities, and we will deal with the consequence."

The assembled crowd quickly dispersed.  Within minutes, the only ones left in the room were Lord Coalpitch, Lady Sarcastia, Harajuku and her assistant, along with Harona, Marideath, and Scarabina.

"Marideath," Lady Sarcastia said.  "What can you see?"

"No changes.  Many Lords and Ladies have not reported in, but I do not know enough of them to find out if they are still alive."  Marideath looked at her cards, spread across the floor.  "Still no sign of Donnabel."

"My eyes deceive me," Lady Sarcastia said.  She looked at one of the cards.  "Who is The Empress?"

Marideath picked up the card.  "You, I assume."

"Funny..." she said.  "Usually the Empress is a Goddess."  She started at Marideath for a long time.  "My eyes are still new, Lord Coalpitch.  They do not see everything yet."

Lord Coalpitch stepped down from the coffin and looked at Harajuku.  "What do you think?"

"I think it is time I reveal a solution."  She stood, and pushed her assistant Shikyo forward.  The girl was still weighed down with a heavy yoke.  

The longer the Harajuku had stayed, the more nervous they got at the obvious abuse of her assistant.  She screamed at her, yelled at her, and pushed her around.  Supposedly, this was training, but it reminded Lady Sarcastia of a woman in a house a long time ago.  She tried to think of who that was... she met so many people, but she recalled someone who abused their staff.

Marideath cleared her throat.  "I am going to go to sleep now.  I still hurt."

"Yes, Marideath.  Get some sleep.  We all could use a little sleep after that ... incident."

Scarabina rose, and yawned.  "I am going to bed with Purginia, if you don't mind."

Lady Sarcastia nodded.  "Your dreams will be troublesome, but please... if you sense anything..."

The three girls nodded sleepily, and left the room.

"Harona.  You must be worried about Donnabel," Lady Sarcastia said, and tried to see if the Harajuku's face changed expression.

<I>I will stay here, if it is okay with you,</I> she signed lightly.  

The Harajuku grimaced, but it was hard to see if it was a smile or a pained grit.  

"Yes.  I would imagine it would be lonely in the loft.  Right.  Well, Harajuku..."

Harajuku pushed her assistant forward.

"The Soot Man is a rogue harvester, and might be a killer of Gate Keepers.  This is troubling. For everyone.  To harvest souls, he must be at least half demon, but does he keep them for himself?  It does not matter.  The only way to destroy a demon... is with one of its own kind."

Harajuku pulled the yoke from her assistant who looked a bit shocked at first.  Then the young girl with tight braids shook her head, and began to change.  Her face contorted and twisted.  It turned white, and curled tusks formed from her lower lip.  Her head elongated and then split into two wedges that formed fat horns.  Her arms grew large, and struck the ground, and supported her expanding form on its knuckles.

"Of course..." murmured Lady Sarcastia.

The back expanded and spikes like porcupine quills sprouted from the spine.  Her legs curled under, and became almost frog-like.  When the transformation was complete, the demon was squatting at 15 feet from stooped shoulder to curled knuckle, and must have been almost 20 feet long from its flat nose to the tip of its spiked tail.  It made a sound like a donkey, except far more terrifying.

"This is Bentai, a forest demon from what used to be lower Nepal.  Captured in 1893, he is quite tame now, although a bit slow and stupid.  He was a gift to the Harajuku by the Dragon Lord Matsumoto for guarding his temple in Tokyo. He comes in very handy, and was sent with me for the very purpose of finding and capturing this Soot Man."

Everyone assembled was very nervous.  The creature in the room could easily kill everyone one of them and consume their souls within seconds.  Harajuku suddenly had the upper hand.

Lord Coalpitch seemed the most alarmed.  "How do you... expect this sort of thing to be... subtle... in an urban environment."

"I don't," Harajuku said.  "But he will get the job done."

"This is not only unacceptable, but dangerous!" Lady Sarcastia said, but then trailed off when the demon turned to face her.  She reflexively averted her eyes to avoid the demon's gaze.

Harajuku looked displeased.  "You released a half demon many years ago."

"She was a small girl.  This... thing... could uproot a building and cause untold chaos."

Harajuku's eyes narrowed.  "Do not be afraid of him... he senses fear."

Harona remembered seeing the Half Breed tear a large tree from its roots and throw it at a construction crane she thought was too loud like one would toss a small stone.  Harajuku usually did not consort with demons, but she knew that some of them had them as slaves for various purposes.  She wondered if this demon would be part of her training, and that feeling of fluttery pleasure filled her stomach again.

"Do not touch him, either.  His touch causes skin to turn black and whither."  Harajuku said in Harona's direction, and distracted the demon to look at her.

Harona backed off when she realized she inadvertently had been stretching out her hand to the demon's face.  His gaze looked familiar, and Harona realized that the Half Breed had similar eyes, but instead of burning coals of soul-less fury, the Half Breed actually had a glimmer of... humanity.  This difference both intrigued and sickened her.

Lord Coalpitch's eyes brightened.  "Well, the more I think about this... I think this is just the sort of thing that we need--"

"Oh, stop sucking up to her," Lady Sarcastia spat at him.  She turned to the Harajuku and said, "Put him... or her, back into the girl again until I have had more time to think about this."

Harajuku did nothing.  The demon growled stupidly, and pawed at the stone floor with a huge hand, creating sparks, and then sniffed the result.

"I see," Lady Sarcastia said, and tilted her head.  "A Harajuku bows to no one."

"You have nothing to fear, Sarcastia.  He is under my complete control.  He will not move from this spot unless I command him to."

Lady Sarcastia wondered what her conscience would say... if her conscience was still alive.  She remembered something Lady Vapora once told her, "Conscience sounds like consciousness for a reason."  She looked at the demon again and resigned herself to the fact that things had now officially gotten out of hand.

And they were bound to get worse.

<I>Why do you not trust her?</i> signed Harona when she was sure the Harajuku wasn't watching.  

"Who said I didn't trust her?" Lady Sarcastia said as the Harajuku turned back.  She was sure that even though the Harajuku had no expression, inside she was smiling like a crocodile.

"I say we sleep on this, and my next evening, we will set the demon loose and... I mean, have the demon find the Soot Man," said Lord Coalpitch with the enthusiasm of a sweating prostitute in church.

Lady Sarcastia nodded, but instead of heading towards her chambers, she made a sharp angle to Marideath's room.

An hour later, all the cards were on the table, spiraling in so many directions, the reading was partially on a chair, the floor, and across the bed.  

Lady Sarcastia rubbed her aching neck, and surmised the situation as calmly as she could.

"Okay, so I have a Harajuku who may or may not be planning to kill me, who is the only one who can control a demon who could set fire and uproot the DC Metro area like several atomic bombs, and may have already killed Donnabel.  No one knows where Donnabel is, I have another assistant who may defect to the Harajuku, and Lord Coalpitch seems oblivious.  Meanwhile, the Soot Man is killing wantonly, the Shiante are under control of something that may be using the Soot Man to harvest souls, and not all the Lord and Lady Gate Keepers are accounted for.  Oh, and everyone but me thinks this is related to Misabel.  Do I have this right?"

"That sounds about right," Marideath said, looking back and forth... and behind... at the cards all over the place.  "The future is unclear.  It could go anywhere from here."

"Tell me..." Lady Sarcastia said in a low whisper, "when you read for me in that coffee shop, were my readings always this bad?"

"Hard to tell.  I would say yes, but since I had no idea who or what the hell they were about, I can't really give you a fair comparison."

"Right.  No offense, but this requires a professional.  I am going to find Jason.  Last I heard, he was going to see Sekhmet and Isis.  Prepare my red travel clothing."

Marideath blinked.

"Right.  I'll get Scarabina to do that."

----------------------------------
So far Untitled - Chapter 13: The Unwitting Informant

Agatha thought catnip tea was some of the best she had ever had.  It made her feel warm and sunny inside; the kind of feeling you get when you wake up in a soft bed with nothing to do for the rest of the day.  She sat at the kitchen table with Tabitha and the two of them spoke.

"Yes," Tabitha said.  "I murdered your whole family.  And how do you feel about that?"

"Oddly neutral," Agatha said.  "They were a shallow lot."

"Your father was my brother... of sorts, but he sort of strayed and lost his way.  I tried many times to fetch him, but he got arrogant, and forgot where his empire came from.  I became tired of reminding him.  So I converted him to cat food so he may, in his last moments, provide some useful purpose."

"I don't have many memories of him.  He was away a lot.  Mother didn't know what to do with us kids.  Ariel had her social life--"

"Is that what she called it?"  Tabitha said with a snort.  "Let me tell you, even a Preistess for Aphrodite would have considered her a workaholic."

Agatha snorted, and spilled some of her tea.

Tabitha dabbed a spot on the tbale with a napkin, and poured some more tea while a small radio played Brahms in the background.  "It's a welcome treat to converse with someone who gets that joke.  So how did they treat you as a Gate Keeper?"

"Fine. Lady Sarcastia is nice." Agatha looked out at the unfamiliar world of the daytime.  A butterfly landed on a bush in front of the window.

"Good.  I liked her the moment I saw her.  We had our differences, but we had the same goals."

The room fell silent.

Tabitha stood straight in her chair.  "Now.  To business at hand.  I hear that Lady Sarcastia is in some sort of trouble... eh?"

Agatha shrugged.  "It's hard to tell.  She usually keeps her cool unless someone disobeys her, and then it's up with the wind, and down with the light in the room.  She got a new pair of eyes..."

"Ah... yes.  The college student.  She seems to have the gift.  Very nice.  Rumor has it that before she crossed, she predicted the return of ... the half breed."

"Misabel," Agatha said.  She did not feel fear saying her name aloud to Tabitha.

"Yes.  I remember her.  Is she the only half breed?"

Agatha paused.  That had not occured to her.  "Well... no, but she is--"

"Is the most recent one.  Yes, funny that.  How one's mind always thinks of more recent events first.  I suppose that works out most of the time."

Agatha felt a cramp in her stomach, and remembered.  "Why did you kill Lord Scanlon?"

Tabitha put down her tea and nodded.  "Ah... yes.  Well, he was a Gate Keeper, as you felt.  The decision was regrettable.  We don't usually interfere with Gate Keeper work.  We prefer to... watch."

Agatha understood.  "So why did you interfere now?"

"Mm.  I always appreciated your inquisitive nature. But I feel it would be unfair to indulge you at this time.  Let's just say his balance of power was a little heavy handed.  He took advantage of some of ... our people."  Tabitha leaned forward and whispered hoarsely, "In a very... very bad way."

"What's that necklace you are wearing?"

Tabitha rose and looked at it.  "This thing?  Oh... it's a gift.  It was supposedly garded in a museum in Bagdad, but apparently it started to wander.  And now I have it back, that's all that matters."

"That's the symbol of Hathor."

Tabitha smiled. "Very good, Agatha.  My, it's been years, and you still--"

"I know that symbol.  I know the pendant.  I have seen it before."

"Then you know what it can do?"

Agatha stood up and began to pace.  "As I recall, it was used to control the undead.  But the undead are fairly rare.  With soul harvesting, there isn't much left to go around for those who are not in charge of angels or demons."

"Not all dead things are human souls, Agatha."

Agatha looked at Tabitha.  "What do you mean?"

Tabitha sighed.  "The souls on this plane are more than human.  In fact, there are whole herds of souls roaming about.  Humans are just one of them on the planet.  You were born human.  It is natural for you to feel that way... but there are... others that share this plane with you."

Agatha looked at the a gray tabby on the kitchen counter who slowly blinked at her.

"Cats?"

"Very good, Agatha.  Cats are one of them.  Whales, lemurs, and kangaroos are some others.  Just because they don't build great skyscrapers or machines doesn't mean they don't have a soul."

"So who collects cat souls?"

Tabitha narrowed her eyes.  "Cat Gods, of course."

"I... I never knew that..."

Tabitha clapped her hands.  "Ha!  I bet there are many men who would pay to hear you say those words!  But come, curious one, and sit back at the table.  We have some things to discuss."

Agatha sat back at the table, lured by a fresh poured cup of catnip tea.

"Now.  Tell me about what is going on.  What do you know about the Soot Man?"

"Nothing.  He's half demon, I guess."  Agatha brightened.  "Is THAT--?"

"Maybe.  It's hard to tell.  Marideath didn't tell you?"

Agatha felt a cramp in her stomach again.  "Why should I tell you?"

Tabitha straightened her posture again.  "Good question.  I will answer this as directly and honestly as I can.  About 15,000 or so years ago, a bunch of Gods got together and discussed this new human soul that had started to build these huge mud walls near the Tigris river.  Where had they come from, what were they going to do, and so on.  Before, we all pretty much kept to ourselves, or if we had any interaction, it was an ancient agreement we had before even dragons lived here.

"But humans were another animal altogether.  They... built things.  First, tools.  That went right under our noses, and I mean, it's funny to think about it now, but the God who took care of Elephants kept telling us that he wasn't chalking it up to coincicence that so many of his souls were suddenly befalling sharp sticks.  But we figured, big animals have a bigger chance falling on sharp sticks.  I mean, it happened all the time, right?  The fact it was becomming more and more common... we completely missed the cue.  I mean... Agatha.  You didn't know the world back then.  It's hard to imagine now Earth without humans, but 15,000 years ago, they were no more important than you would think of hippos now.  Sure, they make a lot of noise, hang around in groups, and mess up their habitat... but who doesn't?

"Several thousand years of sharp sticks later, we were all in hot water.  Human souls were exploding in number.  And instead of having a volitile limit of how many could occupy the same space, they started to build cities.  And in a move that I consider to be a plan of brilliance, their minds changed to adapt to city life.  Human minds adapt quickly.  No one saw this coming until it was threatening to overrun us, and let me tell you, the Gods of Dinosaurs are gone because they didn't think ahead.

"Some of us fought.  But many of us took a shortcut, and adpated to humans.  One of them was cats."

Agatha gasped.  "You-- you're Bastet!"

Tabitha laughed, "Oh my Goddess, no!  And when I tell her you said that, she will have a scream.  And may eat me.  So I won't.  But no, Bastet saw her exit quicker than most, and unlike Anubis, she wasn't going to let her children be domesticated and change so haphazardly by humans.  Have you seen what became of dogs?  Ugh!  Absolutely embarrassing!  I look at a Pekingese, and laugh so hard that Anubis thought he could get one of those in every palace of the human world.  Only those Chinese brats would-- ah, but I digress.  God business, not Gate Keeper business.  Anyway, we sent cats everywhere.  Soon, we were worshipped and revered.  We were in every temple, every palace of the human world!  It was glorious!"

"But..." said Agatha.

"Yes... but, alas, those that harvested human souls grew jealous we were interfering in human soul exchangings.  Demons and angels didn't fancy our ears poking into their affairs, and for many centuries, we were cast out and even exterminated.  Our reign collapsed, but they paid a heavy price, for you see... we kept the rats at bay.  Our secret back door back into human interests.  And really, how could they keep us out?"

"So where do the Gate Keepers fit in?"

"Funny.  Like humans, you were under our noses for a long time. We think you first showed up in the early middle ages.  People in dark hoods, milling about in secret societies.  Demons and angles didn't even know you existed until you started to show up in medieval paintings, and when they tried to stamp you out during the Burning Times--"

"The Burning Times?"

"Ah... yes.  Well, humans call them the Dark Ages, but there was a huge mystery war on the moon which culmnated in a HUGE explosion in... I think the Christian Year has it at 1178... and the result of that sent meteors down to Earth which started huge fires, and Earth plunged into some pretty severe and depressing winters for over a century.  The dragons, who I think were involved, tried to have the incident erased from Chinese records, the Chinese were such tools when it came to bowing to dragon pressure, that the human race doesn't even "remember" the incident.  But human civilization was at a standstill, and even with all their buildings and tools, they couldn't seem to reclaim the glory that peaked with the Roman civilization."

"Is this going anywhere?"  Agatha asked.

Tabitha lowered her arms, and rolled her eyes.  "Yes, impatient one.  The Gate Keepers came shortly after that, and we know somehow you are related.  Bastet sent some of us to keep an eye on you, and we were one of the first ones to discover what you were up to.  Before you came along, there were but a few gates.  Now?  Thousands.  And more 'are discovered' every year.  I suspect they are being built, but for what, we have no idea."  Tabitha leaned over to Agatha.  "So it would be ... nice... to know some of those missing gaps of knowledge."

There was a long silence as the both of them locked eyes.

"You don't think I have a clue?"  Agatha asked.  "Hell, if I knew, I'd blabber it for more of that tea, but I suspect that Lady Sarcastia knows this, and wouldn't let on a single thing to her assistants.  All I know is we gather packages, guard packages, and report on packages."

Tabitha sighed and smiled in spite of herself.  "And thus continues a stalemate for the last eight centuries."

"So... I am a spy for Bastet?"

"In a manner of speaking.  But since you work for me, and not Her, and you don't tell me anything... I am not sure how that's even an issue.  Hope springs eternal, though, as Aphrodite used to say at her lavish parties.  How I miss those.  Do you know she's reduced to doing rave parties in the former Czech Rebublic now?  Poor thing.  Hasn't harvested a soul since they shut down the red light district in Berlin during Nazi occupation.  She's skinnier than a Russian model.  Soon, she will be forgotten, along with Dkhek and Baal."

"Who were...?"

"The Gods of what fossil scientists call glyptodons and chalicotherium.  I heard those two were a hoot.  Before my time, but Bastet spoke fondly of them.  Her saber tooth children found them ... well, worthy foes."  Tabitha looked at her watch and her eyebrows raised in alarm.

"What are--"

"Look them up sometime.  We haven't much time; I have to return you shortly.  The creature that controlled the Shiante is no longer an issue," Agatha said, putting the gold necklace under her shirt, "and now we that we have evened things out a bit... we have one more thing left to do.  Bastet and I cannot interfere in human souls collecting, but when they started working on cats, we stepped in.  Right now, as we speak, a very dangerous demon has been let through the gates."

"Demons aren't allowed through the gates--"

"Without Gate Keeper approval.  Your Lady Sarcastia, as wise, wonderful, and witty as she is, has been duped, I am afraid, of letting a demon into our world.  He is about to create havoc and chaos on a scale not seen since certain World War I battlefields."

"How was she duped?"

Tabitha started looking through bookshelves, gently picking up cats and placing them on furniture as she went.  "That's not a concern now, what's done is done.  No use in being all human and analyzing it to death.  We have to act quickly, and come down hard.  Now what I need is some way ... ahh... where did I put that book?"

Agatha looked down at her humanly cheerful nightshirt, and smirked.  "Tabitha?"

"Yes, my kitten?"

"How am I going to return to being a Gate Keeper?  I mean, after all this?  Lady Sarcastia has a great pair of eyes--"

"Sarcastia's eyes are not a concern."  Tabitha paused, and bit her lower lip in thought.  "You know... I think it's symbolic that we are trying to fight the Soot Man.  How does one fight a half-demon that can turn to vapor?"

Agatha shrugged.  "Get something that can capture vapor?" 

Tabitha smiled.  "Or...?"

"Prevent it from turning to vapor in the first place?"

"Clever girl... you're getting there.  How does vapor become something not vapor?"

"How can... wait, is that possible?"

Tabitha walked up to Agatha and pointed a bony finger at her forhead.  "How can one fight what one cannot see?"

"I'm... not... wait... you could listen?  Hear it?"

"Like a Gate Keeper, cats have very acute senses.  Sight is only one of them.  Listening is another.  Cats have another sense, which they use their whiskers for.  But one thing we all have in common is the one thing that gives us a soul to begin with."

"Consciousness?"

"Goodnight, Agatha," said Tabitha.  "I don't know when we'll see each other again, but I hope soon."  She shoved a small piece of paper into Agatha's hand, and kissed her forehead.

"Wait?  What do you mean?"  Agatha stumbled backwards.  The world began to blur.  The tea in her stomach churned, and the world started to spin.  "No, PLEASE!  NO!  I DON'T WANT TO... to..." and Donnabel fell into a deep slumber.
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So far Untitled - Chapter 14: Jason and the Interrupted Tea Party

"Sarcastia..." Jason said in dismay.  "You let her release what?"

The journey had been miserable.  First, Sarcastia had to go to that dilapidated boating store by the edge of the pier.  She had to break in, and try and find where Jason might have gone.  She was one of the few people Jason would leave clues for, and she had to find what they were.  She knew that Jason was meeting with Sekhmet and Isis.  Lady Sarcastia knew she would not be allowed in the presence of Gods, but she hoped she would draw enough attention to herself that Jason would be forced to see her.  And here she was, in some jungle in Paraguay, sitting under a tent where the wyrm was being attended to by many local villagers.

"Jason, I don't know what to do.  This will create untold damage.  I had no idea Lord Coalpitch would let her travel with such a thing.  I don't trust her, Jason, I simply do not!"

Jason poured a dozen macadamia nuts down his gullet.  Jason was a a very old wyrm.  His upper torso was mostly human, but the lower half was a giant serpentine body covered with mottled feathers.  At one time, he was worshipped by Mayans, but after his people lost the war with the Spanish conquistadors, he fled into the jungle.  Later, he sailed the South Pacific Seas, trying to drum up a new civilization, but modern progress threatened to put him into a zoo, and so he found isolation in deserted harbors and then... boating shops.  He was so old, one eye was frosted over, and the other was blind.  His huge crop of curly hair grew in all directions.  His pudgy fingers on his bloated hands saw like Marideath did; using an ancient Tarot deck, the twin of the deck which Marideath used, which only differed in the fact that his were bent and very worn.  And he was wearing a very large Hawaiian shirt with hula girls dancing with mahi mahi.

"You always have been a good judge of character..." said the huge wyrm, fanning himself under the giant open tent and holding some of the cards down with the other hand.  "One of your more charming weaknesses, Sarcastia."

"I need your help," Lady Sarcastia said with as much courage as she could.

Jason laughed, and then grimaced as a villager pulled a large bloated insect from under one of his scales.   "No you don't.  You think you do, but I won't be allowed to interfere."

"Jason, how do I fight a demon?"

Jason smiled, and ate two bananas whole.  The remnants of some tarantula legs poked from between his lips until a large tongue pulled the twitching hairy limbs back into his mouth.

"There... there was a spider in those--"

"I know," Jason smiled.  "Like icing on a cake."  His keen hearing noticed her pause of disgust and muttered, "No worse that your damn orange smoothies."  Both of them sat and looked at nothing but the blank air in front of them.  Jason's milky eye pulsed red for a second.  "Sarcastia... did you come her to wrinkle your nose in the heat of the steamy jungle, or did you actually have a plan before you cam calling for me?"

"You're my friend, Jason."

"Bloody hell, woman!  I had to end my tea party with Isis to see you!  You certainly have an odd definition of friendship."

"You owe me one, Jason.  You never told me that Fu Lin's daughter came to you."

"And what if I had?  Huh?  Think of that.  You would have blown me off like when I warned you about Misabel.  I told you she was trouble!  But when Jason comes calling, do you listen to him?  No..."

"Jason, you know very well you know something about this that I don't."

Jason sighed, and felt the cards spread before him.  "Look at this!"  He fingered the bent edge of a card, the only way he could tell what they were, "I says the same damn thing Marideath saw.  Same damn cards, too."

"Are you saying you don't know, either?"

"Marideath is very astute for having these cards for such a short time. She is almost as good as I am."

"You praise for my eyes is an interesting diversion, Jason."

"Ah, but what do you know about your conscience?" Jason asked slowly.

"I can't find her."

"--or don't want to find her?"

Lady Sarcastia flinched.  "Just what do you mean by that?"

"You love your girls, Sarcastia.  When one of them is in danger, you have a habit of protecting them.  But you only have two arms.  And both of them are stumbling around in the dark."

"I... I don't think that's quite right, Jason.  You see--"

"And Harona and the Harajuku.  She betrayed you once, didn't she?"

"Yes."

"But she came back?"

"Jason, I had to go fetch her."

"Why didn't you kill her?  You imprisoned her in stone.  Just like you did with Misabel.  Just like you did with Sad Fairy.  Why do you hang onto these relics of failures in assistants?  Lord Scanlon killed all his off.  He didn't need them.  How many gates are in Toronto, anyway?"

"Lord Scanlon is one of the missing..."

"I know.  Funny, that.  Many of the Lord and Lady Gate Keepers did not answer the call."

"When was the last time you saw... say, Lord Scanlon?"

"He was with Scaraha and Scaraban, I think in Persia.  They were guarding a museum, but then there was this stupid human war, and Lord Scanlon returned to Toronto."

"Did Scaraha and Scaraban go with him?"

"No, they stayed.  They are fine, I got word they are guarding a package in a mosque near the Syrian border."

"Did they like him?"

"No.  They never got along.  Scaraha and Scaraban are formerly twins, you know.  Hard to get in between them.  They are loyal, but rather reclu--"

"I'd say it would be a good time to talk to them.  Let them know you care about them, too."

Lady Sarcastia looked at Jason, who continued to stare forward.  "...why?"

"Part of your problem, Sarcastia, is you are a good judge of character.  Too good.  You have to learn to forgive your children."

"I think I give them--"

"No.  Not 'give them freedom.'  FORgive them.  Not with your acts, but with your heart.  This is what binds souls, Sarcastia, no matter what part of universal consciousness they may be part of.  You love, but you are too scared to get hurt.  Recently, you gave selflessly to Misabel, and she betrayed you, yes?"

"She... didn't exactly betray me."

"I know," said Jason, tapping a card that showed a woman crying over a doll at a funeral.

"She did... foolish things."

"You are afraid that standing up for her would jeopardize your position in the Gate Keeper community?"

"Yes."

"Tell me, Sarcastia, when Lady Vapora gave you Harona, what did you say?"

"I said thank you."

Jason smirked, and parts of nutshells fell down his chest.  "Thank you.  'Thank you very much, Lady Vapora, for this pleasant exchange of gifts.  I am sure Harona will be a nice complement to my collection...'" Jason pretended to write on a pad of paper, and chewed an invisible pen thoughtfully.  "'PS:  Do you still have the receipt?'"

"That's not fair, Jason."

"I am your friend.  To be unfair would be to not tell you these things.  Right now, Harona has been forced to make a choice on her own between two masters who don't care for her.  Is it any wonder she ran away?  Honestly, I would expect this from dragonkind, but not a human."

"The girl is over 150 years old, Jason, if she can't make a choice on her own by now--"

"If I had such a manner of thinking, you and I would not be here, and I would be sipping tea with a pleasant bull-headed woman."  Jason laughed.  "I guess I still am!  Life comes full circle!"

Sarcastia fumed.

"You are angry because I speak the truth.  I know how you react to lies.  You laugh, because lies are harmless when they are exposed.  The truth is a much harder, jagged pill to swallow.  This whole thing, Misabel, Harona, the Harajuku, that stupid forest demon, what was his name?  Bandaid?  All of this... your fault."

"It is ENOUGH that I have to put up with it from MY GIRLS, but to--"

"They do it because they love you, too, Sarcastia."

Sarcastia was shocked into silence.

"Now you see.  And they call ME blind."

"Right now, those girls need a leader.  They don't need a caretaker, they don't need a nanny, and they certainly don't need a cold-steel bitch.  They need a Lady.  They need a Lady Gate Keeper who will always be right, always be just, and won't imprison their SISTERS IN STONE!!"

"That's... that's what Misabel said," Lady Sarcastia said, fighting back a tear.  "Before she... left."

"One last thing, Sarcastia.  As much as that miserable half-blooded brat is mentioned on everyone's lips... has there been ANY evidence.  ANY, whatsoever, that she's been involved?"

"My eyes told me of the half-breed--""

"HALF BREED OF WHAT?  A grasshopper and a fish?  A human and a bagpipe?  It seems to be you are surrounded by half-breeds, Sarcastia.  How about this for a thought, what if the other half is ALSO DEMON?"

----------------------------------
So Far Untitled - Chapter 15: Lady Sarcastia's Plan

"Ten firefighters dead in warehouse fire," Lady Sarcastia read from the paper.  her voice echoed all over her chambers.

Donnabel nibbled on a shortbread with Marideath and drank some cold coffee.

"Second warehouse fire this week, a serial arsonist is suspected," Lady Sarcastia read from another page.  "It's funny how humans see things.  Oh... and here's one about the homeless that are showing up dead.  Heart attack.  Pneumonia.  Higher rate dying of hypothermia this year than last... even though temperatures haven't gone below 40.  Interesting."

"Who are we waiting for?" asked Donnabel.

"I'll tell you if you tell me where you were last week..."

"Sorry, m'lady.  Like I said... I don't remember.  I woke up in the graveyard when Purginia found me."

Lady Sarcastia nodded.  "Did you figure out who or what that name was in that scrap of paper you were holding?"

"I looked for it in the library for days.  There is no potion, spell, chemical, place, or person named Glyptodon Chalicotherium.  I did find that somehow the words mean something like 'grooved tooth pebble beast.'  What that has to do with anything, I don't know."

"And what about that dreadful gown?"

"That is an embarrassing mystery for me as well."

Lady Sarcastia smiled.  "If Sad Fairy saw you in that, she'd never stop talking about it."

"Sad Fairy is imprisoned.  And where did you put her stone while I was gone?"

"She was a distraction to you.  I will release her when you tell me where you were..." and she looked at Marideath, who was staring at her coffee.  "... and how you escaped detection."

Donnabel curled her face up in frustration.  "I said I don't know, Lady Sarcastia... please, why won't you believe me?"  She started to cry.

Lady Sarcastia looked up from her paper.  "Alright, don't cry.  For now it's not important.  I am just upset because... I worried about you."

"I know," Donnabel sniffled.

"As we all were.  But as you know, you missed quite a show in your short absence.  The Harajuku, Lord Coalpitch... and Harona are out setting fires to things while the Soot Man apparently roams freely.  In one week, they have destroyed more properties and patches of forest than a pack of tornadoes.  I guess the humans just have to deal with it.  But it makes me uncomfortable.  That's why I have called Scaraha and Scaraban to join us."

"Aren't they guarding a package in Syria?" asked Donnabel.

"They were.  But I need some information and... I need you two to help me think of things to ask them.  They were supposed to come out of the gate over an hour ago, and I don't know what's keeping them."

"They are coming," Marideath said, looking at a card with faternal twins on them. 

"You have said that for the last two hours, Marideath.  Focus!"

Marideath pushed around some more cards, but only looked half interested in what she was doing.

After a few minutes, the airstarted to turn blue, and the crackling of the gate announced the new arrivals.  Within seconds, Scaraha and Scaraban, dressed in swirling black robes and veils, stood before them.

"Ah... finally..." Lady Sarcastia said, and awkwardly hugged them.  "It has been a LONG time... how have you been?"

"Fine," they both said.  

"We have to return soon," said Scaraha.  

"Why did we risk travel when we could have written?" asked Scaraban.

"Please sit down and have a Scottish shortbread.  There are some things I need to know immediately.  How are things right now where you are?"

"Human settlements are in constant unrest," Scaraha said, removing her face veil and exposing a leathey face.

"We had no move our base of operations when the musuem was ransacked by rioters," said Scaraban, taking a shortbread.

Lady Sarcastia raised her eyebrows.  "What of the package?"

"We guarded many packages," Scaraha said.  "All of them are safe.  Thanks to Lord Scanlon's quick thinking, we were able to save them all."

"How did you do that?" asked Donnabel.  She itched a little.  Where had she heard of Lord Scanlon before?

"When he worked with us, a few years ago, he devised a way to make duplicates of all the artefacts," said Scaraban.

Scahara continued with, "Humans are only interested in what they looked like.  Gold, symbols, and so on.  They know nothing of their magical properties.  We made exact duplicates, and kept the originals safe, buried at our current location."

"An old gun turret near the Syrian border.  We checked on them before we left."

Donnabel had this image of a necklace pop into her head, but she wasn't sure why.  Was it related to that thing she was looking up?

"Have you ever heard of Glyptodon Chalicotherium?" asked Donnabel.

Scahara looked up.  "No.  You mean a carved tooth?  Like scrimshaw?  That's an ancient Greek word."

Donnabel didn't know why she asked, "Like a necklace?"

"No.  We didn't guard any necklaces.  Or tooths.  Not magical ones, anyway.  Nothing with power.  In fact, the most powerful package we have is a staff that can control the dead."

"The dead?" asked Lady Sarcastia.  "I don't recall a staff that can control the dead.  How useless would that be?"

"That's like having a staff that can control stones.  To do what?" asked Marideath.

"Sometimes something can be dead, and yet not dead.  Like a soul in a dead body that is trapped.  Sort of like us, in a way," Scaraban said, looking at his sister.

"An unharvested soul?  Surely those are rare," Lady Sarcastia said.

"For humans, yes.  And to control a human body is no small feat.  That staff could not handle such a task... no magical object I have ever known could.  But not all that die are human," said Scahara, putting back her veil.

"You mean like cats?" asked Marideath.

Donnabel felt prickly.  Cats.  Cats.  What about cats?

"Yes, that staff could control undead cats," Scaraban said, helping himself to another cookie.  "Possibly in very large numbers."

"Undead cats are called... Shiante," Donnabel said quietly.

Lady Sarcastia's eyebrows raised.  "Surely Bastet wouldn't allow that.  I used to know one of her preistesses, and they are rather possessive about their cats.  Almost comically so."

Marideath looked at Donnabel briefly, and asked, "Maybe she didn't know about it."

Scaraban snorted.  "If anyone managed to use that staff to control cats and prevent their souls from being harvested... I pity the poor soul who meets Bastet.  Especially in the Middle East.  The temple in Tel Basta is one powerful eye.  I doubt anyone could start using Shiante without Bastet knowing about it."

"How did Lord Scanlon make duplicates of the artefacts?" asked Marideath, looking at the Devil card.

Scahara shrugged.  "He didn't say.  He had some help from someone, I know that, but we never knew her name."

"Her?" asked Lady Sarcastia.

"Yes," said Scahara.  "All Harajuku are female."

Lady Sarcastia's face hardened.  "When was the last time you heard from... Lord Scanlon?"

Scaraban looked bored.  "He left after the artefacts were bured under the turret.  Back to his home base in Toronto, I suppose."

Donnabel felt so scared, she started to feel sick.  "All of Lord Scanlon's assistants died a few years ago.  One by one.  Accident, betrayal... and he didn't have many to begin with."

"Are you suggesting that Lord Scanlon killed his own assistants?" asekd Scahara.  "He was a loner, but I doubt he would kill."

"Yes," continued Scaraban, swallowing his cookie, "I doubt that poor old chap was capabale of killing.  He was such a... well, if you can't say something nice."

Lady Sarcastia leaned forward and looked Scaraban right in his eyes, "No.  No, Scaraban. It is very important that you tell me what you thought of him."

Donnabel's eyes raised.  "She never lets US say things badly about Lords..." she said under her breath.  She wished Harona were here to witness this.  Or Sad Fairy.

Scaraban looked hard back at Lady Sarcastia.  "He was a coward, m'lady.  Oh, he acted tough, but he bent under the slightest of pressure.  It seemed he would agree with anything in a position of power.  He even cowtowed to humans, and he made our job difficult.  No, I doubt he'd kill a fly, much less a Gate Keeper."

"What if someone told him to, like the Harajuku?" asked Marideath.

"That old bird?" Scaraban huffed.  "Her only skill was transfiguring.  You know, changing one thing into another.  She almost never spoke, and the way Lord Scanlon talked about her, you'd think she was the lowest worm in the ground.  Uncooperative, non-communicating... he had all kinds of words for her.  I think he was scared of her, but I don't know why.  She didn't do much but sip that ghastly tea.  She didn't even hang around to help us find a hiding place."

"Did she have an assistant?" Marideath asked.

"No," Scahara said.  "As far as we knew, it was just her.  I can see where you are going with this.  You think the Harajuku commanded Lord Scanlon to steal some object for her.  Well, I want to cut you off to tell you that we accounted for all the artefacts the moment you asked a few days ago.  We dug them up, they hadn't moved, and all were present and accounted for.  Only Lord Scalon and us two know where the gun turret is."

"WHICH one it is," chuckled Scaraban.  "Humans have so many there."

"Although..." said Scaraha thoughtfully, "it is unsettling that he's missing."

Lady Sarcastia stood up.  "I don't trust the Harajuku."  She looked at Donnabel.  "Donnabel, I want you to dig up anything you can from the library on the Harajuku.  I want to know anything you can find about their lineage.  I want to know their relation to dragons."

Donnabel stood up.  "Yes, m'lady.  Free of distractions..." she sighed.

"Before you go, you're going to need help.  I will ask that you speak with Lillybeth, and have her help you."

Marideath chuckled and murmured under her breath, "Good luck with her..."

Lady Sarcastia cracked a smal smile, "And since I wouldn't really wish upon anyone to spend a lot of time alone with Lillybeth... I have a friend who might help you."

A shadow from the doorway walked into the light, and feebly flapped her nylon wings and she looked at the floor and smiled...just a little.

Donnabel nearly cried in joy. "SAD FAIRY!"  
----------------------------------
So Far Untitled - Chapter 16: The Harajuku Training

"Once more, Harona," said the shadowy figure on the floor below.

Harona, covered in sweat and grime, held onto the metal I-beam that held up the warehouse ceiling.  The debris of the airplanes that were once stored here were scattered against the walls, and stains of oil, blood, and Harona's sweat dotted the smooth cement floor.  She was exhausted.  She hurt evrywhere, but her mind kept wanting to go on.  She could do this.  She could REALLY do this!

She freed her mind, and jumped to another beam, then against the wall, and moved with such speed, she felt the air split like a wall on either side of her.  While she was not technically flying or bending, she was moving at a pace she had never thought possible.  The whole warehouse was a blur of floor, ceiling, and wall, moving and spinning and she tumbled about, gaining speed with each push.  She was pushing herself and her soul to the limit, breaking barrier she didn't know even existed.  She could now move about the confined area with sucg speed, gravity could not keep up with her momentum.  To a common bystander on the floor, she would have been a mere blur that could cross the aired in one bound, and the air whistled at a very high pitch with her movement.

Then, suddenly, the slow-witted demon who had been absently scratching and sniffing parts of airplane on the floor, nonchalantly put his hand up an caught her with no effort, and then slammed her to the ground so hard, the cemenet cracked into chips and Harona gasped in pain.

The Harajuku frowned slightly.  "Harona... we are getting nowhere.  At some point your Lord and Lady are going to wonder what we are doing, and I will capture the Soot Man as easily as I captured you, and then my job here will be done, and I will leave."

Harona rolled over and gasped for air.  <I>No... please don't--</I> she mouthed.

"I find it odd that while your kind does not need to breathe, just how much panting you do when you get work."

Harona pushed herself up, and then fell down as the demon sat on her with his huge ape-like buttocks.

"No.  No more of these painful lessons today.  And by painful, I mean me watching you clutch your limitations like treasured possessions. Your human soul, your frail conscience still clings to the old ways of thinking.  You have to learn to give those up, Harona."

Harona said nothing, but thought that Misabel had once told her the same thing.  She remembered that she lost that argument with Misabel.  "My human side is weak," Misabel said, "I have to find some way to crush it or let it go."

"Ahh... " said Harajuku.  "Here comes Lord Coalpitch."  She looked at the demon.  "Burn the place."

Load Coalpitch came over the grassy hill and shook his head.  Harajuku hjad sent him all over creation trying to look for the signs of the Soot Man.  He had checked out every chimney, smokestack, and garage within 100 miles of Richmond.  He had failed her again.  He hated looking so STUPID to Harajuku, who always looked like Lord Coalpitch was just one step behind.  As he returned to the warehouse near the airport, he looked at the flames shoot from the windows.  

"Oh no!" he said in exhasperation.  "Not again!"

"You missed quite a fight," Harajuku said with a little delight in her eyes.  "You apparently flushed him out, and the demon caught him.  This time, we have some more of his material body, although the Soot Man managed to set the warehouse on fire again.  It is difficult to control these sorts of things when demons fight each other."

Lord Coalpitch shook his head.  "We should go before the humans get here."

Harajuku smiled.  "As you wish," she said, and the three of them walked in silence for a while as the wailing of the fire engine siren faded into the darkness.  Lord Coalpitch paced nerously behind Harona, Harajuku, and the demon.

"How is the demon fighting the Soot Man?" asked Lord Coalpitch as they reached a clearing.

Harajuku said nothing.  

Harona was exhausted.  It had been a day since she had sugar, and she was starting to show the effects.  Her walk became slow, and she sometimes tripped.  her mind began to wander and she thought of something that happened before Misabel had left.  Something that she had never told anyone.

Misabel had started looking more and more haggard before her finals days.

"I don't like the human race," she said.

Harona was practice fighting with a broom handle, and stopped.  <I>Yeah.  Well, not all of us are so bad,</I> she signed.

"I have always thought the Gate Keeper's main weakness was the dependency on humans," Misabel said.

<I>So you have said.  I'm not sure what you can gain by saying that, since you are half human yourself.</I>

"I wonder."

Harona smirked.  <I>Wonder about the half human, or wonder what you have to gain?</I>

"Why would my mother mate with a demon?"

Harona twirled her makeshift staff, and playfully drew invisible symbols in the air before mouthing, <I>I always suspected it was the other way around.</I>

"What do you mean?"

Harona stopped because Misabel didn't look happy that the question had been asked.  <I>Uh, well, I mean I always sort of assumed that... well, one of the party... was unwilling."</I>

Misabel's eyes started to glow, "Are you saying my mother was raped?"

Harona knew that Misabel hadn't exactly been stable recently, and started to lightly step around the question.  <I>I don't know, I wasn't there.</I>

"You should have been there.  It was during the Civil War."

<I>I wasn't everywhere.</I>

"Then how would YOU KNOW?"

Harona didn't know where this was going.  <I>I didn't say I knew, I just sort of... assumed.</I>

"Like you assume that all authority is right?"  Misabel grabbed the broom handle in mid-swing.

<I>I don't assume all athority is right!</I>

"You blindly follow Lady Sarcastia--"

<I>You don't KNOW that--</I>

"Then what DO you follow, Harona?  That Harajuku?  Lady Vapora?"

The bridge of Harona's nose turned white as she yanked the broom handle from Misabel's grasp and tossed the rod to the floor with a clatter.  <I>What the fuck are you getting at, Misabel?</I> she mouthed so harshly, croaks of her old voice escaped.

"Did Lady Sarcastia tell you my mother was raped?"

<I>NO!  Misabel, what the hell is wrong with you?</I>

"Did you KNOW my mother???"

<I>NO, I did not KNOW your mother!  I only knew of you.</I>

"And what of me?"

Harona wondered if they were going to fight right then and there.

"Harajuku like dragons, don't they?"

<I>Misabel, this is unfair...</I> Harona mouthed.

"They do, don't they?  Were their mothers raped?  Was your... MASTER raped?"

In the blink of an eye, Harona's fingertips were deep into Misabel's throat, and pushed Misabel back into the wall.  Misabel only laughed.  "Does Lady Sarcastia know of your loyalty?"

Harona breathed hard, and did not loosen her grip, even though touching Misabel's skin was poison, and a dark stain was spreading up Harona's fingers into her arm.  <I>My ...old master is in mourning...</I> she mouthed with such punctuation, anyone could have lip-read her.

"Yes.  Because her beloved dragon master was killed.  I have dealt with a dragon.  You know what they think of humans?  They consider them as useless as walking, jabbering meat.  To control humans is an art, like flying a kite.  They do not believe, for one moment that a kite has a spirit or will.  And if it did, they simply would not care."

Harona's anger did not ebb, but she loosened her grip because she felt it was beneath her.

Misabel slid out of the grip as easily as an oversized coat.  "At least with Lady Sarcastia, you get some sembleance of a conscience.  A sympathy.  Human on human symapthy.  Harajuku have dragon masters, and Harajuku think such sympathies are for the weak."

<I>Not all Harajuku...</i>

Misabel then narrowed her eyes, and bent the air around her to slide next to Haraona's ear.  "What?  Are Harajuku human now?"

Harona's memory faded as she took another step, and collapsed on the soft moss of a river bank.

"Harajuku, Harona is weak!  She needs help!  We're both tired!" Load Coalpitch said, with as much athority as he could air in front of a huge demon that had just snapped a huge log in half to suck out the termites.

Harajuku stopped as if it was a natural conclusion to Lord Coalpitch's plea.

"What do you have to eat?"

"I got us some candy bars before I came here," Lord Coalpitch said as he pulled several bars from his pockets.  He pressed one into Harona's mouth, and was surprised at how light she was.  Harona nibbled the chocolate and sniffed.  Then she started taking larger bites, and Lord Coalpitch slid the chocolate into her small hands.

"I don't think I want to be separated from you anymore.  You run her so... hard. And you are not her master."

Harajuku said nothing except, "Indeed."
----------------------------------
So Far Untitled - Chapter 17: Nathan Gets a Visitor

"Where the HELL is my apron?" asked Nathan.  He was alone, but he was so used to being alone, he spoke to the appliances as if they were dear friends.  "This will make the 4th apron I have lost this YEAR!"  He cut upon another cardboard canister of dough, and scooped out the sticky mass with a huge slotted spoon.  "You'd think someone was stealing them, but who the HELL would break in here and STEAL an apron?  Fuck!"

"Hey, you," said a soft voice.

Nathan nearly had a heart attack.

"Oh my God, where did you come from?" asked Nathan, holding onto the table.

Sad Fairy thumbed towards the back door.  "Through the delivery entrance."

"Customers are not allowed there," Nathan exclaimed.  "And anyway, it's locked."

"Not to me it's not," Sad Fairy said, kicking her heels against the front of a metal cabinet.  "You said you wanted company... so... here I am."

Nathan composed himself.  "Yeah.  Yeah... I did.  Well... ah... so... how are you?"

"I have been thinking."

Nathan scooped out the dough and started cutting it into chunks.  "Thinking about what?"

"You ever wonder if there's some sort of secret world going on around you?"

"All the time.  In fact, I am convinced this mall is the center of some of it.  For instance... ever notice that the arcade at the end of the hallway over there has some of the weirdest people hanging around it, but they never play games?"

Sad Fairy shrugged.  "Drug dealers."

"That never trade drugs, either.  They just mill about, and sometimes try and go into the back?"

"Petty cash thieves."

"And never come back out?"

"They got in through the back."

Nathan shook his head.  "There is no back entrance to there.  I checked.  The Jacques Penne Clothing Emporium takes up the space that hallway would."

Sad Fairy smiled slightly. "You know a lot about this mall's floorplan."

"I know a lot more than the floorplan."  Nathan stopped cutting the dough, and began to spin it into long ropes.  "Like... ever wonder what happens at night?  I once slept here.  We're not supposed to, but I did.  At 2am, I was awoken by the sounds of a machine.  You know what it was?"

"A floor waxer..." Sad Fairy said.  "Big deal."

"And how would YOU know?"  Nathan asked, pausing for a second to make his point, before curling the ropes into pretzels.

"Oh, everyone knows."

"Yeah, but not everyone hangs out at the mall at 3am with their friends, now... do they?"

Sad Fairy raised an eyebrow, "And who would do such a thing?"

"You'll claim you'll have no idea, I am sure."  Nathan put up a hand, "So I'll save you the trouble.  But I have to know... how do you get the guards to ignore you guys?"

"We know them."

Nathan scoffed.  "No you do not.  Please.  Or else why would one of them have stopped you in the fountain a few weeks ago?"

"Nathan... has it ever occurred to you that asking me these questions will yield you no satisfactory results?  Is this all you wanted to talk about?"

"Tell me how you got in..."

"I'll tell you what, if you're going to interrogate me--"

"Sad Fairy... can I call you Sad?  Or Sadie?"

"Never."

"Look.  I know about your little gang.  And I want in."

Sad Fairy laughed.  "There is no 'gang.'  Just us three girls."

"I want to meet your leader."

"We don't have a leader.  We just hang out."

"Then who is Lady Sarcastia?"

Maybe it was the tone Nathan used, or the fact this was the first and only time a mundane dared utter her name.  Sad Fairy suddenly felt violated and defensive.  In less than a second, she pinned Nathan against the over with a large chef's knife, and pressed it against his throat.  "If you EVER--"

Nathan seemed unfazed.  "You're holding it backwards."

"--EVER say that name again, I will flip this thing the right way--"

"If you were going to kill me, you would have done it by now.  Anyway, feel free to kill me.  This life sucks anyway."

"What's going on back there?" asked Donnabel from the customer area.  "Do we get more raw dough or not?"

Nathan wrinkled his brow.  "How did SHE get--"

"NEVER MIND!" Sad Fairy said.  "Obviously this was a mistake."

Donnabel came in and smirked at the scene before her.

"Why is she wearing my apron?" asked Nathan.

"I had to blend in.  By the way, that homeless guy wanted to know if you still had some trash from last night he could get some old buns from."

"You going to call off this black moth?"

Donnabel snickered.  "I'm not in charge of her."

"Is Lady Sarcastia?"

Sad Fairy pressed the knife deep into Nathan's throat, pinching it off and drawing a little blood even though it was the dull side she was using.

"There's a good question.  Sad Fairy, let him go.  If you're worried about him telling anyone, let me remind you that nobody in their right mind is going to believe him."  She dipped a spoon into the cookie dough and took a large mouthful.

Sad Fairy backed off, leaving Nathan rubbing his neck and swallowing repeatedly to try and open his windpipe to a normal diameter.  "This may be true, but he knows a lot more than you think."

"Like when he's slept overnight to spy on us?" asked Donnabel, her mouth thick with sugary dough and wiping her hands off on the apron.

Nathan looked upset, and tugged at the string in the back of Donnabel's neck.  "That's still my apron!  You guys have been STEALING them!"

"You knew about he knew?" Sad Fairy asked.

Donnabel took another glob of dough off the spoon and swallowed.  "Both Harona and I knew about it."

"How come no one ever tells me this shit?" asked Sad Fairy.

"We talk about it all the time!" Donnabel said in surprise.  "You just go off an brood over something.  Or you have been lately."

"You guys have been fighting a lot, and I overhear most of it," Nathan said.

Sad Fairy's face was turning a deep blue, "What the FUCK would I care about--"

Donnabel placed her hand gently on Sad Fairy's shoulder.  "Was the whole purpose of this to scream at Nathan at his place of work?  Is that all you thought about in the stone?"

Nothing was said for a few minutes.  Nathan resumed rolling out the dough in small ropes, and twisting them into pretzels while Harona helped herself to some frosting mix.

"I know why you're here," Nathan finally said, after loading a batch of pretzels into the oven.  "It's about that guy asking for you."

"Maybe," Sad Fairy admitted.

"He stopped coming by. After Sad Fairy there got caught in the fountain, he asked for you guys again, and I said that the mall banned goths.  I don't think he bought it, but he did say to me one more thing.  He said that if any of your guys were looking for him, he could be found in the library."

"What library?"

"He didn't say, but he did say it like the word 'library' was special in some way.  I guess he figured you'd know, or I'd know, or whatever.  Strange kid.  He walks with those hand crutches you see when people have cerebral palsy.  Why do you guys call him 'the eye walker?'"

Donnabel lowered her hand to Sad Fairy's face to calm the rising anger.  "How do you know he is what we call the eye walker?"

"Because he travels between worlds, or something.  He mentioned it in a hint that he'd be 'traveling' again."

Donnabel and Sad Fairy looked at one another.

"Donnabel, don't say--"

"I KNEW it!  You totally owe me!"

"If Lady Sarcastia finds out he's traveling--"

Donnabel put her hand back over Sad Fairy's face, "We don't have to tell her a damn thing.  This is a double bonus."

"Double bon-- no, I am NOT going back in stone over this!"

"And you don't have to.  Lady Sarcastia said we had to dig up what we could, right?  And if the Eye Walker is traveling to the library... I bet he means the Library of the Beyond.  The big one.  We could find all KINDS of stuff there.  If anyone wrote anything about Harajuku that doesn't have the word 'damn' in front of it, it will be there!"

"We are NOT allowed to travel!" Sad Fairy said sternly.

"But the Eye Walker is."

"WE are NOT allowed to talk to the Eye Walker--"

"So we'll get someone ELSE to talk to him..." Donnabel said with a grin, and then tipped her head twice in Nathan's direction.

"No... I don't think his human brain--"

"Right..." Donnabel said.  "Your idea was better."

"What ide--"

"EXACTLY!"

Sad Fairy aggressively sighed, and then paced in place by shifting her hips in indecision.

"I'll do whatever..." Nathan suggested hopefully.

"Oh, don't worry, you'll 'do' whatever..." Sad Fairy said.  "I can't believe I have been out of punishment for less than 24 hours, and already we're breaking two major rules."

"Just like good old times, eh, Sad Fairy?"  Donnabel said, and smiled.  "I missed you."

"I don't... oh, all right.  And why did you miss me, I was only in stone for a few weeks."

Sad Fairy... you have been gone longer than that.  Since... you know."

Sad Fairy nodded.  "Yeah, since then.  You're right.  Fuck diplomacy."

"Fuck it all, this IS Gate Keeper Diplomacy," grinned Donnabel.

Sad Fairy suddenly realized, "Wait... didn't you say he stopped coming around?"

"I know where he goes to school," said Nathan.  "My little sister has band practice with his best friend."

"Then it's settled, we find the eye walker, and get to to the library.

"All right!"  Nathan said.  "Cookie dough all around!"

"Yay!" Donnabel clapped, and didn't bother to use a spoon for the dough this time.

----------------------------------
So Far Untitled - Chapter 18: Eye Walker

Tony pushed himself up the stairs as quietly as he could.

"Tony?" asked his mother.  

"Too late," said Tony to himself.  "Yes??"

"Do you need help?"

"No, mother.  I am okay.  I am going to bed."

"Are you sure you don't need help?"

"Mother, I am fine!  Honestly, I have to learn how to use the stairs at SOME point."

"I am just worried about you, Tony."

"I know mother."  Same conversation every day since he came home.  It seemed like it was a lifetime ago when he was a simple high school student with neglectful parents, and while he liked that they spent much more time with him, he found that coveting a small spark of privacy was a task more worthy than any goal his physical therapy lessons gave him.

He was glad that he decided to start traveling again.  He had already gone though several pairs of crutches.  And while his parents thought that his recent improvements were a miracle, it was only because they had no idea their 15 year old son was really, in sequential years, almost 16. 

Time worked different for travelers.

Tony was already prepared for his journey.  He had a backpack stuffed with various beads and baubles he had started to collect as he found them.  Bits of glass, metal washers, small quartz pebbles lay waiting for him in sacks in his leather backpack in his closet.  Almost worthless in this world, they were practically the currency of the next.  He figured he would be away for 3-4 days of library time.

That's when he froze.  A book.  He needed a book!

He decided to see which of his paperbacks he could part with.  He had already pared down his collection as best he could, and would probably have to resort to getting rid of a book he liked.  It was standard payment for library time.  If you wanted to read a book, you had to give a book.  Over the eons, it was what made the library one of the largest for any traveler between dimensions and worlds.

Tony took the crutches at the top of the stairs and quickly walked to his room and was surprised it was a little chilly.  He looked at the window and wondered why he had left it open.  A slight fear that someone had come in struck him, but then he realized if anything came after him, it would never use a window.  Still, it left him slightly disoriented, which was a common side effect of the medications.  That and smelling odd smells for no particular reason.

And right now, the room had a slightly vanilla and cinnamon smell to it.  Tony smelled his shirt, and wondered if he had been to the mall recently.  He started to search for some books, when he realized that there were a pair of converse sneakers peeking out from a lump of dirty laundry.

Tony had been through a lot in the last two years.  A move to America, high school bullies, gaining a new kind of vision with the help of two people who weren't what he thought they were, being dead and then alive, seeing dragons and dead people, and all manner of things he kept to himself for the most part.  So the fact the guy from the Cinnicookie was hiding in his closet didn't phase him very much.

It did make him curious, though.

"Nathan?"

"Hey... dude!" said Nathan, who seemed rather cheerful for someone hiding in his closet under dirty laundry.

"Before I dish some major kung fu on you," Tony lied, "I would be most happy if you explained why you are burglarizing my room."

"Actually, if I told you why I was really here, you'd ... hopefully... understand," Nathan said after he pulled a jacket off his head.

Tony tried his best to look unfazed.  "I am always waiting to hear someone explain themselves.  I gain enjoyment from it, in fact."

"Funny thing, my friend.  You know how you came by my place, and asked about what happened to all the Goth kids, and I was like, 'I don't know,' you were all, 'If any one of them ask, I am going to the library?'"

"Yeah...?"

"Funny thing!  Ha..."

"Funny maybe, but that would not explain what you are doing in my closet."

"No... see... these... um, girls.  Right?  Goth girls.  Asked for you, but they had a different name for you.  And at first I'm all 'woah,' and then one of them... oh.  Um.  Wants to go out with you."

"No!"  hissed a voice from the other end of Tony's bedroom.  

Tony spun around, looking for a Gate to exit through, but in the way of his primary exit were two girls wrapped in white cotton robes common to what desert sheiks wear.  He could only see their eyes, but the short one seemed very angry and the tall one was giggling.

"I said we wanted to GO WITH HIM!" said the short one.

"Oh God, this is funny..." said the tall one.

"You are high on dough and coffee, D-- girl!"

"Okay, who are you guys?" Tony asked.  He used "the sight" to look at them, but all he could determine was that they had a slight blue glow.  Which meant probably not human.

"Right.  They want to hitch a ride on the Tony Express to Library Town."  Nathan tried hard to look suave, but Tony noticed he was very nervous.

"Why couldn't they ask me?"

"They are not allowed to," Nathan said.  "They are not allowed to ask you... directly."

"Sorry, but I am not in the habit of picking up hitchhikers."  Tony began to get nervous.  He had only started traveling recently, and he wasn't sure what kind of attention he'd attract.

"Tony, look... we're under a lot of... duress to do this," said the short one.

"Who's pressuring you?"

"Lady Sarcastia," said Nathan.

"Oh, FUCK ME!" screamed Sad Fairy, ripping off her facial veil.  "You have the biggest mouth I have EVER seen, and I have seen demons!"

"When?" asked Donnabel, looking at Sad Fairy a little surprised.

"There are many things about me you don't know!" Sad Fairy retorted.

"When did YOU see a demon.  Hel-LO, I just saw one like a week ago."

"Duh, I saw the same one!" Sad Fairy said, mocking Donnabel's tone.

"He didn't have that big a mouth!"

"Okay okay!"  Tony said.  "I haven't heard from Lady Sarcastia since the hospital, so I guess I will do this for her.  BUT!  There are two conditions!"

"What?" asked Sad Fairy, tossing off her cumbersome disguise.

"One.  You let me see Lady Sarcastia."

Donnabel and Sad Fairy exchanged worried glances.

"Okay," said Donnabel.  Sad Fairy's expression was mixed, but obviously stressed.

"Two.  I need a book."

There was a paused when suddenly Donnabel light up, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a copy of "Fahrenheit 451."

"Wow," said Tony.  "That was perfect.  You Goths sure have good... um... well, that was good.  An appropriate gift for the librarian."

"Where do we go to activate the gate?" asked Sad Fairy.

"We don't.  I find a hole and I shift."

"The magic of the eye walker," said Donnabel in a little awe.

"Eye walker?" asked Tony.

"Yeah.  That's what you're known by ... us Goths."

"I like that name.  Anyway, let me get my things... Nathan, I think you are sitting on my backpack."

Nathan lifted up the heavy leather bag.  "Wow, dude.  What do you have in here, gravel?"

"Yes," Tony said with a smile.  "Now, if you girls hold my hands like this..."

"Should I hold you hand, too?" asked Nathan.  And then he realized he was alone.  "Oh, woah, man!  Where the hell did you guys just go?  Hello?  Aw, shit, you left me here didn't you?  Oh, come on!  Guys?"

Nathan realized he was alone in a stranger's bedroom.  He looked around, and wondered if Tony's mother was going to come in, and what excuse he would have.  After a few minutes, he slowly crawled back out the window, and back onto the roof.  He slowly let himself down the edge of the roof, and jumped off into the grass, twisting his ankle badly.  

Which was a shame, because if he had waited just another two minutes, he would have seen a very sick Sad Fairy and Donnabel suddenly reappear, carrying the limp body of Tony.

----------------------------------
So Far Untitled - Chapter 19: Behind the Looking Glass

"And here we are..." said Tony.

"That was it?" Donnabel asked in astonishment.  

Sad Fairy was also shocked.  All she remembered was grabbing Tony's warm hands, and then suddenly they were in a strange field of purple-green grass.  The air had a faint coppery-lemon smell, and several contorted trees with leaves like lily pads shivered under two weak suns that were rising above a jagged, snow-covered mountaintop.  A huge moon dominated most of the sky.  The sunward side had a bluish white cloud base and it faded to night with dots of light showing huge thunderstorms. 

"Where are we?" asked Donnabel, who considered traveling to Egypt a long way.

"I am told there is no proper name for it, and there are no local creatures on this planet that have developed language skills far enough to name it.  So in English it's call 'The Library.'"

"I expected a huge building," sad Donnabel.

"With huge shelves filled with books," finished Sad Fairy.

"Well, I hate to disappoint emissaries from Lady Sarcastia, so turn around," said Tony.

As they spun around, they saw a huge side of a structure that was beyond all comprehension.  Easily the size of a entire city, and almost a mile high, the huge building filled the horizon.  It had no basic shape, but seemed to be a collection of various architectures clustered together into one large clump mass in the center.  Windows of all sizes were dotted with colored lights exposing various beings of multiple shapes milling about behind them.

"Jesus Christ!" was all Sad Fairy could think of to say.

"That's the largest... most... grand thing... ever...!" said Donnabel, because for a bookworm like her, this was as good as it got.  "I want to go in..." she finished, dropped Tony's hand, and started towards the main entrance.

Their gait was light and Tony barely needed his crutches in the low gravity.  Donnabel skipped and jumped, laughing in delight, while Sad Fairy did her best not to trip.  The grass waved as their feet touched it, and Sad Fairy did her best to try and remember where they had landed so they could get back.  

Because there was nothing to scale, Sad Fairy and Donnabel were surprised that it took them nearly an hour to reach the building itself, which looked so massive in front of them, Sad Fairy became disoriented as her brain tried to convince her that anything that large and flat must be the ground.  

"I don't feel very good," Donnabel said.  She was looking a little pale, and felt disconnected in a small way, almost like this whole experience was happening to someone else.

Sad Fairy didn't feel good, either, but decided to take the upper hand by not saying anything as they went through the main entrance.

The main entrance was several stories high, and while it looked thin in comparison to everything else, it was over several hundred feet wide.  Various creatures were moving about, looking tiny next to the massive entrance.  The smooth tan sandstone that made up the door frame was worn by the hands of many people who just hand to touch the structure to make sure it was real.

"Sandstone absorbs the moisture," said Tony. "Moisture is not good for books."

Donnabel nodded dumbly as she felt the rough texture in her hand.  She was feeling a little concerned that she felt so disconnected.  She wondered if it was the shock of seeing something that spoke to her so deeply.  She had always liked books as far as she could remember, and when she tried to think of how far back that was, she reflexively almost said, "No looking back, no regrets..." but stopped herself because while she felt like saying it, it seemed somehow harder to do so.

The huge black granite floor sparkled with iridescent flakes, and Tony led them to the main desk, which was run by several large, lizard-like beings.  They were very skinny and wiry, with thin arms, serpentine necks, and very large eyes.

"Name?" asked one of them.

"Tony Bumper," said Tony, handing the lizard the paperback book.

"How many?"

"Um..." he looked behind him.  "Just us three."

"Fahrenheit 451," said the lizard, looking at the book.

Tony smiled, and said, "Surname Bradbury, Common name Ray.  Subject fiction.  Genre futuristic speculative science fiction.  Plane one one three eight.  Location Sol Earth United States.  Content: a man hired to destroy books finds himself questioning his society which destroys collected knowledge, and ends up going renegade and finds a cult of people who are saving books until such a time when they are allowed."

"You have been here before, I presume?" asked the Lizard.

"Yes ma'am," said Tony.

"I grant you one solar day."

"Um... I was hoping for 3 or 4."

The Lizard smiled.  "You could stay for that long, but your companions will find it difficult to be separated from their main consciousness for that long without dying.  I don't want to clean up their withered corpses."

Sad Fairy waited to see of Donnabel would say anything, but she was watching a 30 foot tall being wearing a turban lumber past, so she asked, "What do you mean we might die?"

"You are a Gate Keeper, and as such, you are separated from your collective consciousness here.  Soon, what is left of your end of your soul will wither and your body will zombify, and finally collapse into a dry husk."

"Oh," said Donnabel.  "Is that why I don't feel good?"

"Perhaps," said the Lizard, looking a bit annoyed.  She handed Tony what looked like pawns from a chess game.

"Come on," said Tony, taking Sad Fairy by the hand.

"Uh... we kind of have to go our own way," Sad Fairy said, withdrawing her hand.

"And tell me, Sad Fairy, do YOU know how to find anything in this huge building?" asked Donnabel.

"I... uh... oh, all right," Sad Fairy gave in to the overwhelming thoughts that she was on a strange planet, in a strange building, and stuck with their only source of getting home.  Now that she understood she was disconnected from the main Gate Keeper consciousness, she felt better with her symptoms, and decided to make the best of the situation.

"I have a compromise," said Tony.  "I'll take you to the main catalog area, and show you how to use it.  We can split up there, and meet up again in 23 hours.  Then I will take you back.  Sound good?"

"Sure," said Donnabel.  She took a strange stone peg that Tony handed her.

"These are your entry pegs.  You'll need them when you get to the cataloging station.  Ask for a guide, if one is available.  Tell them you have 23 Solar hours, and make sure you say Solar, to find whatever you need.  Don't worry, they are very discrete, and won't tell anyone else what you are looking for.  Once they get you there, they won't even hang around, and you just follow the colored arrows," he said, pointing to colored 

"And then I can meet Lady Sarcastia, because I have an awful lot of questions for her."

"R-right... " Sad Fairy agreed.  She looked at Donnabel, and using Harona's sign language, subtly asked, <I>How are we going to do that?</I>

<I>I have a plan--</I> Donnabel started, but saw that Tony was looking at them.

"What is that, sign language?" asked Tony.

"Tony... you ask too much... if you want to see Lady Sarcast--"

"COME SEE THE MOCK TURTLE READING!" said a strange creature, hanging out flyers by the main cataloging area.  The creature seemed to be a squat being, wearing a gray suit and tie, on on it's bird-like head, it wore a gray fedora.

"Oh, God... flyers..." Tony said, "Come, let's pass by him quickly before he makes eye contact."

"MOCK TURTLE TELLS A STORY FROM HIS LIFE, TAKES REQUESTS!"

Tony pulled Sad Fairy past the bird-faced being, and said, "No thanks..." and scuttled her to the cataloging area.  "Whew... I never know what to SAY to those guys, because once they hand you a flyer, you're obligated to-- oh no..."

"What?" said Sad Fairy, looked around to where Tony was staring.

"What's he reading?" asked Donnabel, looking at the flyer.

"It's an invitation to my good friend, the Mock Turtle my dear.  Say... you are human, aren't you?"

"Sort of," said Donnabel, looking at the flyer.

"Come on, we have to get her away from that guy," said Tony.

"DONNABEL!!" hissed Sad Fairy as loudly as she could, "COME HERE!"

"I'll try and make it, if I can.  I have other things to do, but--"

"It's a binding contract, my love," said the creature, and the flyer suddenly wrapped around Donnabel's arm tightly.

"GAHH!" she said in panic.

"I will see you at the reading, human girl.  Think of any questions you may have for the Grand Mock Turtle.  ONLY A FEW MORE INVITATIONS LEFT FOR THE MOCK TURTLE READING!!!  COME HEAR HIS LIFE STORY!!"

Donnabel approached a very angry Sad Fairy and Tony just stared at the floor.

"You HAD to stop and talk to Big Bird, didn't you?" hissed Sad Fairy.

"He seemed so nice--"

"'He seemed so nice...'" mocked Sad Fairy in a high pitched tone.  "Pathetic."

"And you HAVE to attend," said Tony.  "It's a binding contract.  That paper on your arm will take you across the library when the reading starts.  I did that once, and when the time came, I was yanked from my chair, dragged down countless flights of stairs, and I got stuck on some moldy pillow listening to some ancient God tell stories about how he defeated another God and took all his reapings.  And he sung to some 400-stringed instrument that sounded like cats being tortured."

"Lovely," Sad Fairy said.

"I hope it doesn't take several days like mine did.  You may be dead before he's through."

"Oh, even fucking BETTER!" Sad Fairy said, leaping up and slapping Donnabel across the back of her head.

"Still, it's not all hopeless.  Maybe it won't be long.  Or maybe you can ask the person reading to break to contract.  I wish I knew that was an option the first time... ah, here we are.  The main catalog station."

They were at a large visitor's desk which curved around like a giant balcony.  Dozens of creatures of various shapes and sizes moved around behind it, shoving things into tubes and shelves.  Huge tubes from the main area seemed to spread outwards into all directions.

"May I see your peg?" asked a tall thin creature who looked like a giant brown fleshy spoon surrounded by hundreds of moving cilia.

"I don't require a guide, I know my way," said Tony, showing the creature the peg.  "But they might need guides."  he turned to them and said, "I'll meet you right back here--"

"AAAH!!!" screamed Donnabel as her arm suddenly had a life of its own, and quickly dragged her away down a hallway out of sight.

"DONNAB-- oh, hell's buttons!!" screamed Sad Fairy.

"Just the one guide, then, sir?" asked the creature, looking at Sad Fairy.

"Right..." said Tony, looking at Sad Fairy apologetically.

"What does the young lady wish to seek?"

"Harajuku," said Sad Fairy angrily under her breath.  "I want to know about them, where they come from, what they do, what they know, how they interact with dragons, how you can tell one from anoth--"

"Slow down, young one. I am very sorry--"

"Don't call me 'young one'--"

"... sorry.  Very sorry, but our resident Harajuku has left on some errand.  I can get you a substitute, but all he can show you is where the books are, I am afraid."

Sad Fairy did not yet know that one of the effects of being removed from Gate Keeper Consciousness is that the Gate Keeper "special powers" were dulled if not removed entirely, and if she had know that, she might have been more discrete, for the second the Catalog being said, "Harajuku," three figures immediately turned in their direction.

"That will have to do..." Sad Fairy said.  

"Let me fetch him for you," the being said, and pressed a button behind the counter.  He then let out what sounded like a shriek and a whistle at the same time.  "I hope he will be here short-- ah, there he is!"

"Oh no," said Tony, and couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculously complex the situation had gotten.

"Hello!" said the bird-faced man.  "Your timing is excellent.  I was just done with sending out invitations... ah!  More HUMANS!  How excellent."

"This young gir-- er, lady wishes to find out about the Harajuku."

"Oooh!" said the bird man, "the Harajuku.  Mysterious to all but themselves.  I am afraid our literature on them is scant, and mostly anecdotal.  But I will help out the best way I can."

"Lovely," Sad Fairy said in the darkest sarcasm she could muster.

"My name is BJ Griffon.  And your name is...?"

"Not important," said Sad Fairy.  "And we have little time.  I need to be back here in 23 hour... Solar!  Solar hours..."

"I will have you back, right here, on this very spot, or as near as I can get in 23 hours Solar hours, Not."

"Not?"

"Not.  Your name.  Oh, how confusing.  Your name means 'opposite,' in English.  I will have to keep that in mind when addressing you.  Well, Gate Keepers do have the more colorful of names..."

"How did you know I was a Gate Keeper?" asked a shocked Sad Fairy.

"Honey... no human asks about the Harajuku.  Any that know they exist are already marked for death.  And that dim blue glow is a dead giveaway.  Anyway, we have little time.  Follow me!"

Sad Fairy and Mr. Griffon walked down the hallway, turned right, and vanished.

Tony shook his head.  "Gate Keepers?  I thought she was a Goth... I am never taking hitchhikers again."

----------------------------------
So Far Untitled - Chapter 20: The Mock Turtle's Story

"Yes, I have to admit, you have been more than helpful," Sad Fairy agreed, as they walked down several hallways.

"I am glad, Miss Important," said Mr. Griffon.  Sad Fairy never corrected him on her real name, and she liked that he thought her name was still "Miss Not Important," and couldn't wait to tell Donnabel.

"Now, you will lead me to Donnabel, and get her freed from the mock turtle?"

Mr. Griffon sighed.  "Yes, I will.  It is sad, you know.  He was a God once."

"Uh huh," said Sad Fairy, not caring.

"A God on Earth, coincidentally enough.  But all his people died, and that was that.  Gods without followers become weak and often leave before they fall victim to the ravages of time."

"Too bad."

"Too bad indeed.  He was last on your planet some 100 or so Solar years ago.  He was almost caught and sold as soup!  Can you believe that?  A God.  In soup!"

"Mock Turtle Soup?"  Sad Fairy laughed.  Something about that seemed familiar, though.  She couldn't think of why the name "mock turtle" seemed familiar at first, and why "mock turtle soup" was even more familiar.

"Yes," Mr. Griffon said, hanging his beak to the floor.

They got on a large open elevator, and started a long journey down.

"Did you find everything you had hoped for, Miss Important?" asked Mr. Griffon, who hated small talk, but felt it was part of his job, and wanted to pass the time.  "I am sorry the Harajuku are a secretive lot.  The normal Harajuku who works the collection would be--"

"Tell me, Griffon, would a Harajuku give away her secrets?"

Mr. Griffon ruffled his feathers in realization.  "No.  I doubt she would ... wow, that IS a remarkable question."

"That... is why you have been more than helpful."  Sad Fairy leaned against the grid of the elevator walls.  She was so exhausted, it was becoming difficult to stand.

"You don't look well," said Mr. Griffon.

"I feel like crap."

"We will get you home as soon as possible, so you can reconnect with your consciousness."

Sad Fairy looked at him.  "So how do you know so much about Gate Keepers?"

Mr. Griffon looked away.  "One of them saved me... once.  Well, me and the mock turtle."

"Really?"  Sad Fairy asked.  "Who?"

"Her name was Vapora, I think.  It has been a long time."

"Interesting..." Sad Fairy said, and then another wave of weakness washed over her, and she had to steady herself.

The elevator stopped, and both walked down a long hallway.

"These are the function rooms," Mr. Griffon said, "You can rent these out, and have meetings in them.  They cost a fair bit, but they are free to Gods.  Ah, here we are..."

Mr. Griffon opened a large wooden door, and right sunlight poured into the hallway.  Sad Fairy averted her eyes and stumbled back.

"Sorry, I should have warned you about that...wait, sunlight isn't poison to you, is it?"

"No," Donnabel's voice said from in the room, "that's vampires.  Come in, guys!"  Her voice sounded weak, yet cheerful.

The room was a huge onion down of metalwork with large panes of glass.  Sunlight from a large sun and two smaller weak suns poured into the room.  Plants of various familiar Earth types were scattered about, and the rest of the room contained scattered pillows of various colors and sizes.  In the middle was a huge padded table where several figures were leaning against.  One of them, wearing a black lace veil, was Donnabel who waved as enthusiastically as she could to Mr. Griffon and Sad Fairy.  There were a few other innocuous creatures, but one figure dominated the room.

It was the mock turtle.  He didn't look so much like a turtle as he did a giant armadillo.  His huge rounded back was covered with bumps and small knobs where jewels hung from.  His face, with a short, flexible nose like a tapir, smiled at the new visitors.  "Welcome my dear old friend, Mr. Griffon and his companion, Sad Fairy."

"Her name is Miss Not Important," Mr. Griffon gently corrected.

"Oh, I disagree, her name is VERY important!  She is a guest!" said the mock turtle.  His voice was deep, and almost sounded like the cross between a fog horn and a goose, and had an almost sad overtone.

"No, my friend, her name is literally... the words, 'Not Important...' See, she is a Gate Keeper, and they have very strange names, if you remember."

"Ah... I see..." said the mock turtle, whose eyes lit up with the humor of the situation.  "No doubt, when you ask her what her name was, she told you?"

"Yes," said Mr. Griffon, who did not understand the smile, but ushered Sad Fairy into the room, and sat her down on a pillow.

"Please give our guest a veil, she is not a creature of harsh sun, Mr. Griffon."

"At once..." said Mr. Griffon, when left the room to fetch a veil.

"Not Important..." chuckled the mock turtle.  "Very droll.  Sad Fairy, your friend here tells me you wanted to research the Harajuku?"

"Yes..." Sad Fairy didn't know how to properly address a God.  She had always been told if you met one, you would be forced to the floor by their stare, and they would do the talking.

"Well, funny thing about them.  They are just as bad as you think they are.  I was almost made into turtle soup by one.  Tell me, do you know of their heritage?"

"I found out they are half dragon..." Sad Fairy said, holding her hand up to the suns' glare, but since there were three of them, she wasn't doing very well.

"Yes.  But half dragon from whom?"

"Um..."

"It appears that the favorite dragon of someone we know, Fu Lin, is the father of all of them," Donnabel said.  "And here's the interesting part. The other half is not always human."

"One of them in particular is half demon," said the mock turtle.

"I... uh... look, how do I address you?" asked Sad Fairy.

"At one time, I might have demanded you call my by my last known name, Dkhek."

"What were you to God of, exactly... if I may ask?"

"You may ask.  And I will answer of the Dkhek-nor-snomf, the river people of the plains.  They are all but gone, sadly," said Dkhek.  "Victims of a combination of hunting, changing climate, and ignorance..."

"Here's the great part," said Donnabel.  "We know them as fossils.  They were Glyptodons. Remember?  On that piece of paper? And there's more to this, too."  Donnabel looked at Dkhek, who nodded at her that she was allowed to continue.  "That other word, Chalicotherium.  Also slightly extinct, although there are a few left in Southern Nepal.  That's where Harajuku said she captured that demon."

Sad Fairy's stomach sank.  "Oh no..."

"Yes.  I don't think that demon is really a demon.  I think it's really Baal, who is God of the Chalicotherium people."

"That's how she's harvesting souls..." Sad Fairy realized.  "She's captured a God.  But wait... how do you capture a God?"

Dkhek cleared his throat with a deep rumbling.  "When our followers dwindle, we become weak.  Baal only had a handful of his people left when he was captured.  Some of them are still alive in Nepal, posing as a Yeti or something.  A few of them are protected by human monks.  But they are lost with no God.  They cannot die, and must be in horrible pain.  Baal was captured by something known as the Death Mask.  I was among some of his followers that tried to free him, but I was too weak.  I had not harvested a single soul in 60,000 years.  When we failed, we fled to other parts of the world.  I fled to England, where I stayed in opium dens because... well, I fit in.  But I was so terribly depressed, I could barely move."

"Wow..." was all Sad Fairy could think of to say.  Her vision went dark for a moment, but that's when she realized Mr. Griffon had come back with the veil, and was gently covering her head.  She welcomed the shade, but suddenly became aware at how weak she really was.

"Yeah," Donnabel agreed.

"I stay here because it keeps me in stasis.  I can neither die nor live, so I tell my story to all who will listen.  I pray that it was fate that brought us together.  I think both of us have a similar goal, although my time is over."  Dkhek stood, shaking so heavily, his beads and jewels rattled.  Mr. Griffon went to help him stand.

"You must find that demon, and you must remove the Death Mask that binds him to that Harajuku.  You may not be able to do it alone, so I will give you something that you must bring to our old friend Airavata.  But finding Airavata will be hard.  He has chose reincarnation as a means of survival, and may not even be aware than he is an older god.  He was the God of Elephants, you see."

"Wait," said Donnabel, "elephants aren't extinct."

"No, but they are not as plentiful as they once were, either.  His high priests, which you knew as wooly mammoths, are long since dead, and when the last one died a few thousand years ago, he hid among humanity as a means of escaping and learning their ways.  Not my choice for continuing on, but there you go.  When I was last on Earth, elephants were being hunted for sport, and it's only a matter of time before the last one dies."

Dkhek pulled something from a vest pocket, and handed it to Donnabel with a shaking claw.  "This is a dragon amulet.  I got it from ... well, it does not matter now. What does matter is that when you wear it, you will be as invulnerable as a dragon.  But it does not work for long.  When I got it, it was at the end of its life, you see.  The former wearer grew arrogant, because he started to inherit the traits of a dragon's confidence, and that led to his downfall.  It is a long story, but I can see by your weary expression you have to return very soon, so I will skip that part."

"You want us to fight the demon using the amulet?" asked Sad Fairy.

"Dear lord, human girl, NO!  You would be killed!  No, you need to get up close enough to remove the Death Mask.  That's all you need to do.  Once the mask is removed, the God will return, his last followers will die, and he will be very strong momentarily."

"I hate to... um... bring up this point," said Mr. Griffon.  "But don't you have to be a Harajuku to manipulate the mask, and thus, removing it?"

There was a long silence.

"No..." Dkhek said.  "But only powers greater than Harajuku... which means a dragon or a God.  This is worrisome."

"The dragon amulet won't give us this?" asked Sad Fairy.

"No.  Not enough, anyway."

"Can you come with us?" asked Donnabel.

"No.  I am too frail, and would not make the journey."

"Is there anther God that can help?" Sad Fairy asked.

"None that would.  Any Gods left there don't remember who he is, and they will not help."

"How about Airavata?" asked Sad Fairy.

Dkhek sighed.  "He would.  He would do it for Ball and myself, but I don't know how to find him, since he is in human form."

"Can anyone else find him?"

Dkhek reached deep into his memory.  "Not anymore."

"Anymore?" asked Donnabel.

"Airavata was a great lover of the arts.  He loved music in particular.  He only had one human love, and that was a few hundred years ago.  She was an opera singer of amazing gift and beauty.  He pledged his life to her, and said her heart would always know where he was.  Sadly, she died a terrible death.  Her jealous lover cut her in half with a sword.  It was gruesome.  Airavata vowed he would never love again."

"SHIT!" Sad Fairy exclaimed, and felt cornered by her lack of options and lack of time.

Donnabel looked different, however.  "Oh my God," she said.  "Was she ... no, it couldn't be anyone else!"

"Who?" asked Sad Fairy.

"Lillybeth.  The librarian!"

"That singing machine?"

"She's not a machine, Sad Fairy!  She signs that passage about her lover being ... that Indian guy.  If her heart still can find Airavata, we can find him, get him to remove the Death Mask and... this is a long shot, isn't it?"

"Donnabel..." Sad Fairy said, gasping for air.  "We have to go."

Mr. Griffon helped her stand.  "I will make sure they get back to Tony."

Dkhek sighed, and said, "I wish you... good luck.  My last offering as a God."

Donnabel nodded.  She rose to her feet, and staggered to the doorway.  She started to make dry heaves, but steadied herself, and said, "Come on... Sad Fairy..."

They said their goodbyes to the Mock Turtle, and slowly made their way to the catalog desk with the help of a library cart Mr. Griffon managed to steal at one point.

Tony looked up from his watch.  "There you guys are... I was wondering... oh, God, you two look awful!"

"Please..." Sad Fairy said.  "We have to go h-home..."

"Right, okay!  I will get you guys home!"

Mr. Griffon said, "I will get them as far as the door.  Because of the rules, I cannot leave."

"The gravity is light here," Tony said.  "But not that light."  He swung his crutches up and down.

"They cannot walk that distance on their own."

"And I can't with them as a weight."

"Fuck me..." Sad Fairy said.  "This sucks sooo bad..."

"Can we take the cart?" asked Donnabel.

And so, an hour later, Tony reached the exit gate, exhausted to the point of fainting.  His cohorts got off the library cart, and held onto him.  

"You ready?" Tony asked, and then promptly passed out.

"Oh shit!" Donnabel said.

"Come on Tony, wake up!" Sad Fairy said, leaning down on the ground and slapping his face.  Tony just gasped.

"Shit, he's having an asthma attack," said Sad Fairy.

"Oh flaming fucking jalepenos on a stick!" Donnabel said.

"What?" asked Sad Fairy.

"I don't know why I said that!  I am freaking out!"

"Come on Tony, wakie wakie!" Sad Fairy started slapping him.  "Mr McLazypants ain't gonna let us down, is he?"

Tony gasped for air.  "I n-need... my inhaler.  Oh, God... I... I am gonna die."

"NO YOU ARE NOT!!" Sad Fairy said.  "WHERE IS THE FUCKING GATE??"

Tony said, "Carry... me to... there..." and pointed to what Sad Fairy was sure was some random empty space.

"Where Tony?  Where, boy? Come on... come on!"

"Just... shut the hh-h-hhe up and c-c-carry me you stupid f.. ff.. f-fucking Goth!"

Donnabel and Sad Fairy tried to carry the dead weight, as Tony pointed with his finger, taking them in dizzy circle that threatened to force them to collapse at any moment.  And just when they thought they had gone in circles around some space of grass the same as the other spaces of grass, they suddenly were in a dark bedroom, and all of them collapsed on Tony's bed.

"Get his fucking inhaler," Sad Fairy demanded.

"Wait... where was the gate?" asked Donnabel in a woozy tone.

"GIVE ME HIS INHALER YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT BEFORE I BEAT YOU AND FEED YOU TO.. TO... SOMETHING LARGE WITH A LOT OF TEETH!"

"Uhm... okay..." Donnabel fumbled around in the dark, and was thankful the room was getting brighter.  "What is an inhaler?  What does it look like?  Is it this?" she asked, holding up a Bunsen burner.

"N-- NO!  God, don't you even know what an inhaler looks like?"  Sad Fairy dropped Tony to the floor.  "Let me look!"

"How the hell should I know?  Is it large?  Small?"

"SMALL!" said Sad Fairy, who found the inhaler next to Tony's bed, and shoved it in her face for a brief second as a demonstration.  Sad Fairy jammed the inhaler into Tony's mouth, and puffed while Tony took deep breaths.

"Tony??" asked a voice from beyond his door.  "Is that you?  Are you okay??"

"Damn," Donnabel said, and she kneeled next to Sad Fairy placed her hand on Tony's forehead. "This was all a dream. You will forget."

"What?  No I won't!" said Tony, stunned at how ridiculous that statement sounded.

"Oh... yes you WILL!" and a small blue light glowed from Donnabel's palm as she nearly flattened Tony's head into the carpet.

"Oh, no no no, I still have... to meet..." and Tony fell into a deep slumber.

"Hell of a way to thank a guy," Sad Fairy said. "When will you teach me that power?"

"When I know you won't use it on me," Donnabel winked.  "Let's go..." she added, seeing shadows from the light under the door and struggling to her feet.

The door opened.  Tony's mother gasped as she saw her son unconscious on the floor with his inhaler in one hand.  "TONY!  Oh for God's sake... you left the window open and everything.  No wonder you had an asthma attack.  And you're still in your street clothes!" She helped her son to the bed, and called for her husband.

As she closed the window, she thought she saw two human shapes in the tree outside.  One was waving.  But it must have been the wind, because they vanished as the leaves moved in a breeze.

--------------------------------------------

So Far Untitled - Chapter 22: The Confrontation

"He was weak," said Harajuku.

Harona tried to stand up, but she was in too much pain.  <I>I can't believe you killed him...</I>

"He was useless to me.  He was in my way."

<I>You do realize that you have damned yourself and all the Harajuku by this... killing, don't you?</I>

The Harajuku smiled, and looked at her demon, who was pawing at a tree to see if there were any bugs in the bark.  The force at which it scratched caused the tree to crack and sway dangerously too and fro.  "I think... I can settle the balance."

Harona stood up against the back of a fallen tree.  It was still hours until daylight.  It began to occur to her that she had been used and manipulated, but she kept these thoughts down low.  She felt the same hurt when Misabel left, and the new wound easily found the ruts of scars of the older one, but she didn't want to let on to Harajuku.  She let her weakness be her shield until she could sort out her conflicted emotions.

"Your Sarcastia is on her way," said Harajuku.  "I expected as much.  Will you help me dispose of the body?"

<I>I am too weak, Harajuku...</I>

"Then maybe you are too weak to train, to learn the art of bending...?"

<I>So that's the carrot on the end of the stick,</i> thought Harona.  <I>And I have been following it blindly.  But what a carrot it is...</I>  She thought of a poem she once read, by a man called Carl Rakosi, about a rat in an experiment:  <I>"Every time I nudge that Spring, a bell rings..."</i>

"I need you to help me... you have the strength.  You are so close to the dragon art, Harona."

<I>"...and a man walks out of a cage, assiduous and sharp, like one of us..."</i>

"If you help me hide this body, and say the the Soot Man got him, I will complete your training."

<I>"... and brings me cheese."</i>

"You could become Harajuku, Harona... the most powerful force in this dimension..."

<I>"... How did he fall into my Power?"</I>

Harona stood up straight.  "No." she simply said.  Even though she used the back of her palate to form the N, and her unused voice came out as a cracked croak, there was a lot of power behind that one word.

"What?" asked Harajuku.  The demon suddenly went from idle pawing to focused hate.

<I>You cannot control me.  You are no master,</I> signed Harona.  She felt Misabel would have been proud.  Hell, anyone would have.  

"Then... you will die, Harona..."

<I>I will die a Gate Keeper!</i> mouthed Harona, who jumped into the air with such ferocity, the very air she occupied popped from the sudden vacuum she left behind.

"BENTAI!" screamed Harajuku, but the demon had already run after Harona.  "Good boy..." she smiled.

"And now that we have gotten rid of Harona and your pet, I think it's time we discussed the ending of our agreement," said Lady Sarcastia.

"How long have you been standing there?" asked the Harajuku.  She seemed neither displeased or alarmed.

"Long enough to confirm what I really already knew in my heart.  You have no loyalty to saving your kind in Topaz, and you are just using Gate Keepers to some unknown end."

"I--"

"No, no... Harajuku.  Don't speak.  You may have wooed your way into the hearts of men, but my heart is determined to send you back to where you came from."

"And where is that?"

"Hell, half-breed..." said Lady Sarcastia, and with a wave of her cigarette holder, a blue circle opened up between them.

The Harajuku did not move.  "You realize that Harajuku are not demons..."

"No, but that's where you have been for the last 50 years.  I figured you'd know the way.  You weren't in mourning over Fu Lin's murder... at all.  And no one who has loyalty to their master will have loyalty to anyone."

The air exploded between them when the demon landed with Harona's limp body in his hand.

"I will make you a deal..." the Harajuku said.  "I will not crush this little girl's body and take her soul... in exchange for your everlasting silence."

"First tell me how you extract souls.  Who do you work for?"

"She works for no one, Lady Sarcastia," said Donnabel's voice.

"I see you did not come alone," the Harajuku said.  "Was this an ambush?"

Lady Sarcastia's stomach fell, but she did not waver.  "They come because they are Gate Keepers.  Soon, there will be more.  The word is already out, Harajuku."

"And when they discover that you murdered Fu Lin," Sad Fairy said from another place, "I doubt anyone will come to your call."

For the first time in anyone memory, they saw Harajuku shocked.  Her eyebrow raised, and the bridge of her nose turned white.  "You are all FOOLS!" she hissed.

"You are the fool, Harajuku," Lady Sarcastia said.  "You are trapped.  You can't gate without our help.  As the news spreads, the Harajuku will turn on you as well."

Harona weakly moved in the demon's grip.  "Y-you murdered... Fu Lin?"

"Don't move, Harona!" Sad Fairy's voice said.  "We'll get you out of there.  She's just stalling while thinking of an escape!"

"I never murdered that dragon!" Harajuku said.  The demon roared and snorted flame, but Lady Sarcastia stood firm.  

"I know someone who says differently," Sad Fairy continued.  "He was in the nightclub when you made the plan."

"Then they are a lair!  Don't be a coward!  Show yourselves!"

The forest that surrounded them remained betrayed no one.  "He was also there when you murdered Fu Lin's wife in the alley."

Even Lady Sarcastia gasped.

The Harajuku stamped her foot.  "Impossible... there were no living witnesses to their murder!"

"You killed them too, yes.  But one of them was different.  A jazz musician by the name of Master Don.  Name sound familiar?"

A lone figure in a leather jacket, eye goggles, and a knitted hat came out of the woods.

The Harajuku stood low to the ground, ready to leap.

"Don't think of killing him, Harajuku," said Donnabel's voice.  "He may be human, but his soul is much larger.  Much more ancient.  Today we see him as Wooly B, master techno spinner."

The Harajuku laughed.  "Oh, and this is a Gate Keeper's trump card.  You fools have no more power than a wet kitten!  A God has no powers in a mortal form!"

"No, that is true," said Sad Fairy's voice.  "But we do."

Suddenly a cup of hot coffee flew through the air and hit the back of Harajuku's neck.  The Harajuku screamed, and ran for Wooly B, but Wooly B vanished as the air bent around him, and Harajuku fell to the ground where he had been a second ago.  

"A dragon amulet..." chuckled the Harajuku and she stood up.  "Very good.  But having the defensive powers of a dragon will not withstand an attack by those who have mastered their fighting."

"Harajuku, be reasonable," Lady Sarcastia said.  "You have lost.  Don't act like a spoiled child.  It's dreadfully embarrassing."

"Give it up, Harajuku!" said Donnabel's voice.  The Harajuku spun around and pointed at Donnabel's form, and in a blink of an eye the demon spun around and bathed Donnabel's figure in a bath of flame so bright, it was difficult to look at.  Her scream echoed throughout the forest and was silenced.

"Donnabel!" screamed Lady Sarcastia, who made a lunge for the Harajuku.

The Harajuku returned the favor, and both of them crashed together in a tangle of claws and teeth.

The demon turned away from Donnabel's spot, and as flames died out, there was nothing but white ash in the area where Donnabel once stood.  Suddenly, Harona took advantage of this distraction, and spun the demon's grip, squirming out of its hands before it grasped harder.  With all her strength, she leapt between Lady Sarcastia and the Harajuku, but she was too late as Harajuku's hidden blade pierced straight through Lady Sarcastia's chest.  The gate that has been set up wobbled, and collapsed with a messy "pop."  The demon made a leap for Harona, but suddenly had a rider on his back.  

"Hello, old friend," said Wooly B who was holding onto Donnabel, and in one motion, tore off the Death Mask.

"NOOO!" screamed the Harajuku, and lunged for the two of them, but Lady Sarcastia grabbed her leg, and twisted it sharply to one side with an audible snap.  The Harajuku collapsed to the ground in pain, and stabbed at Lady Sarcastia only to find Harona had whisked her away.  "GET BACK HERE YOU HORRIBLE THINGS!!!"

Harona stopped, and lowered Lady Sarcastia gently down.

"Harona, no... we have to get out of here," she pleaded, but then saw the same thing that entranced Harona.  The light of a God being freed.  It filled the entire clearing.  Baal twisted and stretched.

In various areas of Nepal, southern Russia, and Northern China, several large beasts whispered thanks, and collapsed to the ground.  Their bones quickly turned to dust.

"YOU ARE MINE!!!  MINE MINE MINE!!!" screamed the Harajuku.

Baal's glow subsided, and he walked over to the Harajuku in a gentle knuckle walk.  He had the body of a large ape, but the head of a horse with long ears that stuck straight out like a jackrabbit, and towered over everything.

The Harajuku tried to crab walk backwards, but ran into Harona's legs.  "Save me," she said.  "I'll give you anything.  Please save me."

But Harona took two daggers, and looked Baal in the face.  "I offer you the soul of a Harajuku.  Do you accept?"

Baal nodded.

Before the Harajuku could protest, Harona's blades whipped out from her apron folds, and stabbed the Harajuku in both collarbones with a sticky crunch.  The Harajuku's eyes went dark, her mouth puckered in, and her skin turned into large scaly shingles that quickly fell off and in seconds, she was nothing but a pile of dry scales.

Baal waited.  He deeply breathed in the air, and looked at Harona.  But Harona was not savoring her victory, she was on her back in deep convulsions.

"Save her!" Lady Sarcastia screamed.

Sad Fairy and Donnabel leapt towards their friend, but Wooly B held them back.  "She's killed her Harajuku master.  She is now fighting that spirit within her.  Either she will die, go mad, or become Harajuku.

"No!" shouted Sad Fairy.

"Do something," pleaded Donnabel, grabbing onto one of Baal's huge soft furry arms and crying.

"I have already lost one friend," shouted Sad Fairy at Harona's trembling form.  "Don't you leave us too...!"

"I think it's time we all went back to our... prospective lairs," said a deep female voice.

"Lady Vapora!" said Lady Sarcastia, struggling to stand as dark blue blood poured through her fingers from her wound.  "I didn't ask them to... I didn't mean it to... oh, I'd bow--"

"But you are already on the ground, Sarcastia," Lady Vapora smiled.  "No... our little Harona has gotten what she wanted all along... acceptance from BOTH masters..."

----------------------------------------------
So Far Untitled - Chapter 23: The Final Decision

"So... uh... how does it feel?" asked Sad Fairy.

Harona shrugged.  <I>Fine, I guess.  I know all the secrets of the Harajuku.  I can channel some dragon powers and... well... that's about it...</i>

"'That's about it?'" asked Sad Fairy. "That's a lot of 'it,' and I know... I tried to learn about you guys in the library..."

<i>Tell her, Donnabel.  What was it like to have dragon powers?</I>

Donnabel looked at the amulet around her neck.  "Kind of weird.  I had this craving for Chinese food."

<I>You did NOT...</i> Harona laughed.

"Okay, maybe not.  Maybe it was Chinese people..."

The three girls laughed as Harona pushed Donnabel off her bed.  <I>I was really worried when you got lost in that flame, now I wish you got a little crispy around the ego...</I>

"Aw, I was okay.  It spent the amulet, though.  Dkhek said it was almost used up... I am glad it waited until Baal stopped breathing on me.  It was weird, though.  Like, I knew I was being burned... but I almost didn't care."

<I>Now THAT is more like thinking like a dragon!</I>

"Lady Sarcastia is doing better," Sad Fairy said.  "Lady Vapora said that she's still very vulnerable, but she will improve with some care.  Jason will be helping out with some herbs."

<I>She's always going to have that hole... a Harajuku dagger wound never closes...</I>

"Most people die from it," Sad Fairy agreed.  "I read about that in the library."

<I>Wait... do you feel that?</i> asked Harona.

The other girls nodded.  The air seemed to be electric, and then turned slightly blue.  Small white symbols appeared in mid-air for a brief second, and all was normal again.

"Funny," said Donnabel, "I wasn't aware anyone was using our gate."

"Maybe it's Jason," suggested Sad Fairy.

<I>No...</i> signed Harona.  <I>No... someone opened their own gate!</I>

"What??" the other two asked.

"GIRLS!" shouted Lady Vapora.  "Someone opened a rogue gate near here, and I need some guard detail NOW.  You three patrol the inner grounds up to the highway.  I'll have Purginia and Scarabina look from above."

The trio jumped out of Harona's bed and ran for the exit.

"What the hell...?" asked Sad Fairy.  "Who opens their own gate?"

"A God?" asked Donnabel.

<I>God's don't need gates.  This was a Gate Keeper.</I>

Sad Fairy grabbed a box of snack cakes as they passed through the pantry.  "How could a Gate Keeper open a rogue gate?  We can barely keep ours working!"

<I>This is strange...</I>

"Use some of your Harajuku pow--"

Harona stopped Donnabel in mid-stride.  <I>If you use the phrase, 'Harajuku powers' one more time--</I>

Sad Fairy grabbed Harona.  "There's no time for this.  Lady Vapora is a bitch, and I'll be damned is SHE punishes us."

Harona smiled. <I>You have been such a pushover since you got imprisoned in stone...</I>

"See how you like it sometime..." hissed Sad Fairy.  The three paused in the pantry.

"Come on GUYS!" Donnabel protested.  "We were getting along like old times again... please don't ruin it."

"GIRLS???" screamed Lady Vapora.

The trio didn't need to hear that a third time.  They bolted out the exit.

"GIRLS??  WAIT!" Lady Vapora said.  

Marideath panted along behind her, "Did you stop them?"

"No.  No, I did not.  Are you sure--"

"Yes, I am sure.  We have to stop them!"

Lady Vapora rested her hands on Marideath's heaving shoulders.  "No.  Lady Sarcastia needs us to guard her.  I think they have to face this... on their own."

Outside, the trio split up, and hid in the various trees.  For several minutes, nothing happened.

<I>What are we looking for?</I> signed Harona.

<I>I don't know,</I> Donnabel signed back.

<I>I camel spot with grave tree,</I> Sad Fairy signed.

<I>What?  What was that?</I> asked Harona.

<I>Her sign language is still pretty bad, huh?</i> giggled Donnabel silently.

A lone figure stood in the moonlight.  Its large feathered wings and shaggy hairstyle silhouetted by street lights from the highway.

<I>What the... oh my God...</i> Harona mouthed.

<I>What?  What do you see?</I> asked Donnabel.  "What do you see?" she finally whispered as loud as she could.

Misabel liked the moonlight.  She could see in total darkness, of course, but the moonlight meant that her enemies could see her, and she used that to her advantage.  Those dependant on sight will use it, and exclude all else, thus making them easier to manipulate.  She saw the girls scampering around long  before they made their final move.  She wanted to see how they would approach her, and that may tell her what they are guarding.  She walked in what seemed to be random lines, but she was testing how they moved, so she could narrow down the hot spots.  She was also fairly certain she knew who they were, and she ran down her list of weaknesses of former... associates.

Their activity grew more feverish, and Misabel knew she was getting near.  Her jacket still smelled a bit like sulfur, and she kept the terrible taste of her previous travels from her mouth by taking a huge, juicy bite from a large yellow onion.  She paused, and the girls suddenly ran from the darkness in a move that would have startled many, but didn't even distract Misabel one bit.  She now new they were guarding the mausoleum.

Sad Fairy stood alone.  "Why have you returned?" she asked. 

"Sad Fairy..." said Misabel, taking another bite of her onion.  "How... nostalgic to see your small round face.  How are the wings?"

"You have a lot of nerve, coming back, you know," said Donnabel who ran to Sad Fairy's side.

"Have I?  Why?" asked Misabel, her head tilted to one side.

"You know why!" Donnabel said.

"Do I?" she took another bite of the onion.  The air was singing with electrical fire as they locked eyes.

"You do not belong here--"

"And what if I DO come and see your ... precious leader?"

"GET AWAY FROM HERE, MURDERER!!!!" screamed Harona, spinning through the air like a missile at Misabel.

But with a nonchalant wave of her hand, the air between them bent, and Harona's trajectory changed so quickly, she was thrown to the ground, where she landed violently with a curdling scream of pain and crunching bones.

"Silly little Harajuku girl.  I heard about your promotion.  Congratulations..."  Misabel bent the air again and flipped Harona like a spinning coin, where she landed face down a few yards away.

"Your hurting her!!  Please, just GO!"  Donnabel screamed.

Misabel tossed her onion up and down in her hand.  "Oh no, she attacked me first.  Defender's privilege, you know."

Harona lay face down in the ground, crying in frustrated pain trying to get up, with stranded of dark blue stained mucous sticking to the ground from her mouth.

"Hey... wait... did she just talk?" Misabel asked with a raised eyebrow.  "Wow... the powers of Harajuku ARE great.  But you are wrong, I do not murder.  I kill.  I harvest for others.  There's a difference.  It's just business, you understand...?"

"What do you want?" asked Sad Fairy.

"An audience with your Lady... of course..." Misabel moved as if the other two wouldn't stop her.

Sad Fairy leapt for Misabel's legs while Donnabel tried to grab Misabel's head in the other direction to try and topple her, but Misabel bent the air around her, causing the two girls to crash into one another.

"I have just had the most INTERESTING conversation with my grandfather," continued Misabel as if she hadn't done more than flip her hair back.  "Do you know what he said?"

"I don't give a DAMN what he said--" scream Sad Fairy, but the air bent again, and suddenly, Misabel was holding onto Sad Fairy's skull and dangling her in mid air.  Sad Fairy tried to hit her, but was just out of reach.

"You should.  It concerns you all.  But I doubt you'll listen.  If I recall, you girls were all gab gab gab... never listening, never learning.  Sad Fairy... is that why your father beat you?"

"What?" asked Sad Fairy.

"Misabel, no!" screamed Donnabel.

"Your father.  He beat you.  Halloween night it was, full moon almost like tonight.  You were eight, and went out trick or treating--"

"Don't DO this to her, Misabel!" Donnabel struggled to get up.

"-- and came home late.  Oh, it was only 5 minutes late, but 5 minutes is five minutes, and so your drunken father... whom you tried so hard to get love from, beat you for 5 minutes, screaming, 'this is how long five minutes is... SANDY!'"

Sad Fairy's eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her face began to stretch back, giving her skull a skeletal appearance.  "Oh God daddy please stop..." she said.

"Poor little Sandy Fay... but after those five minutes, which you swore was not a long time, you weren't moving, were you?  In fact, there you were, bruised and bleeding in your little Fairy Princess Butterfly costume."

Sad Fairy's past came rushing back to her.  Memories of a hospital, Lady Sarcastia at her bedside, the nurses, the cold, cold feeling... her skin cracked and turned gray.  Blue blood began to dribble from her ears and nose.

"NOOO!" screamed Donnabel, lunging for Misabel.

Misabel stuffed the remaining onion in Sad Fairy's dry mouth and dropped her curling husk to the ground.  Before Donnabel could reach her, Misabel grabbed onto Donnabel's throat and yanked off her dragon amulet.  She held Donnabel a few inches off the ground as her long legs kicked and squirmed.  Misabel looked at the amulet.  "Protection of dragons.  You know... I once worked with a dragon.  Most miserable coward I have ever seen.  I don't consider that protection at all, Donnabel, shame on you."

"You... killed her..." said Donnabel in gasps, trying to pry herself from Misabel's grasp.

"No."  Misabel's eyes turned a dark red, and she tightened her grip on Donnabel. "I didn't.  But that's not important right now as me seeing--"

Misabel suddenly became aware of a strong presence.  The glowing eyes of several cats came from the shadows.

"Well well... what have we here.  This protection is new."

More cats appeared.

"It would seem I underestimated the delay tactic.  I wonder... how is it that a miserable old fool like Bastet would get involved with Gate Keepers."

"Put her down," said a voice from the graveyard.

Misabel shrugged, and gently placed Donnabel on top of Sad Fairy.  Sad Fairy's withered body gently leaked blue fluid onto the onion shoved in her mouth.  "Please be okay," Donnabel wept.

"Choose your allies wisely," Misabel whispered into Donnabel's ear.  "Or you may find yourself on the wrong side someday..."

The air bent, and Misabel was gone.

Those that know the large cemetery in Herndon could spend their whole lives like prowling cats and never know that at a mausoleum, a whole society of people guarding the gates to other worlds and dimensions lives.  But on one moonlit night, they might have seen a young girl weeping over two bodies, as an older woman comforts her by running her fingers through the girl's hair.  Cats would be watching in silence.  They might think they were witnessing a funeral.

But they would be wrong.
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Unedited copy
Copyright Grig Larson, Nov 2005
Done in honor of NaNoWriMo