With their heads high and spirits low, the dark-colored mares pulling the Circus caravan followed the winding and weathered path towards Felwinter, trudging through patches of dried snow and fallen pine needles as they rounded yet another bow in the road. Even in the late summer, it was colder here, on the outskirts of the Enchanted Forest, and a nippy breeze blew down from the mountains to the north, causing the wagon canvases to flap and shiver.

The first light of dawn was stretching across the land, like one long shadow, and thousands of beads of dew glittered off the blue-green grass. Inside the wagon at the head of the caravan, Sophia had awoken abruptly once again, and laid there on her back for another five minutes before sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of her cot in frustration.

Her eyes were weary and bloodshot, and they looked noticeably darker than usual, even with all the black makeup she wore across her face.

Jesse looked up at her from where he was standing on her bedside table.

“Was it that nightmare again?” he asked. From the fixated expression on his face, he had been watching her for a while.

“Fuck me,” she said quietly. “Every night. I can't even close my eyes without seeing that girl.”

“Maybe you should talk to Michelle about this dream. I know you don't want to, but she's an Enchanter. She's good with dream interp—”

“No.”

The answer was harsh and sent the cramped little compartment into a long silence. They bounced along rhythmically in the wagon, with threads of morning light glittering through the holes in the walls.

“...I don't need her help with anything.” Sophia put her hands on her knees and stood up. She wasn't dressed in her usual Circus attire—the dark leather garb she had become she famous for—but her face was still plastered in white makeup, with carefully drawn black stripes down her eyes and lips. After an aching stretch, she moved towards the closet and began to sort through a colorful array of costumes for anything that was black.

Jesse turned his head to follow. “This isn't healthy, you know. I don't remember the last time you had a good night's sleep. Don't you think there is something strange about a repeated dream of a mysterious girl killing us all?”

“We're members of a freak show, if you haven't noticed. Everything is strange with us.”

“Yeah, but who do you think it is? Do you recognize the girl's face?”

“No.”

“Is it...Alyssa?”

Sophia slammed the closet door. “I don't want to hear that name again!”

“Sorry. I thought you were over that.” He paused, but continued to press her. “...We haven't seen her in over two years now. Don't you wonder what she is up to?”

“I haven't given her a thought since the day she decided the Circus life wasn't for her.”

The angry, flustered way in which she began to get dressed suggested she was lying.

“I haven't given her much thought either,” Jesse said, keeping the honesty in the room at an all-time low. “I just know how upset she makes you. It wouldn't surprise me if your dreams are about her. If you talk to Michelle—”

“Maybe Michelle is the girl in my dreams! Did you ever think about that?” Sophia threw on her pants and wrapped a leather belt around her waist. Her top never came down all the way, so the lower part of her stomach was exposed, and the silver-studded piercing in her belly button swung back and forth as she struggled to tighten the belt. “She already ruins my life during the day. Maybe she found a way to enter my dreams and ruin them at night, too.”

“I don't think Michelle would abuse her powers that way.”

“Oh, of course not. I mean, it's totally not Michelle's fault we're stuck in this fantasy world, running from the law, and trying not to get killed by—”

Suddenly, the wagon stopped moving and the horses began to buck and clap their hooves against the dirt road. From up above, they heard the muffled voices of Russell and Wallace calling out something, but they couldn't tell what it was.

“Sounds like trouble,” Jesse said.

Sophia sat on the cot and fumbled with her boots. “You go check it out. I'll be right there.”

“Right.” Jesse slid down the bed post and then whistled to Roy and Mack, who were playing cards on the other side of the room.

“Where's Jeff?” Jesse asked as they headed towards the man-sized hole in the wagon door.

The clown crawled out from under Sophia's worn leggings and waved to the rest of the guys.

“Right here!” he said.

“What were you...?”

“I dunno.”

“...Okay then.”

Once outside the wagon, the men were able to hear what Russell and Wallace were saying. Neil was up there too, manning the controls that allowed the men to steer the horses.

“There's a body in the middle of the road,” Russell said. “Female. Looks bad.”

“Can we go around her?” Jeff asked.

Jesse, Mack, and Roy took turns slapping him upside the head as they grabbed onto the front wagon wheel and climbed down.

Sure enough, as they rounded the front of the wagon, being sure to stay clear of the horses' hooves, they saw a woman sprawled out across the road, blocking their way. She was dressed in rags, but those parts of her skin that were visible were covered in dried blood. She had long hair that was frayed and drooping, like a willow tree in its final years, and her body was as thin and pale as a skeleton. Still, judging by the lines on her face and her cheekbones, she couldn't have been older than thirty years of age.

The men on the ground went to investigate while Russell and Wallace watched from above.

“Is she dead?” Jeff asked, even before they had reached the body. “I've never seen a real live dead person before.”

“That makes no sense, you idiot,” Mack said.

“You make no sense!”

“Would you two show some respect?” Jesse snapped. “What if she really is dead?”

“Then I don't think she'll mind us talking about her,” Jeff replied. “Duh, Jesse. And they think I'm the dumb one.”

By the time they reached the woman, she had been motionless for almost two minutes, and had given no sign of breathing.

“What do you think got her?” Jeff asked. “Lions? Tigers? Bears? Oh, my—maybe the same creature that got Bob and Guy!”

Roy studied her wounds up close, running his hand along the torn seams in her shirt, and then removed his hat. “...I think she's dead, gents.”

“Looks like she hasn't eaten in days.”

“That's good for us, right?”

Before anyone could answer him, the woman's eyes shot open, Jeff peed his pants, and the four of them were scooped up in the woman's hand as she rose to her feet.

“No!” Jeff cried. “I'm afraid of heights!”

“...You're a high-dive jumper,” Mack said. “How can you be afraid of heights?”

The woman held up her fist to her face.

“I don't want to hurt you,” she whispered. It was hard to tell if she was speaking in hushed tones because she was in actual pain or because she was trying to disguise her voice. Either way, her face would have been impossible to make out behind all that blood, which blanketed her skin like war paint. “But I will. It does not pain me to take a life.”

“You're the one who took Bob and Guy, aren't you?” Jesse asked coolly. “You won't get away with this.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“She has the boys!” Russell shouted from atop the wagon. “Sophia, Michelle—we need you!”

The wagon door busted open and Sophia jumped out.

“Get the fuck away from them,” she said. She had her lute in one hand and raised it over her hand as she ran towards the woman.

The woman took a shaky step backwards and almost fell.

“I'll kill them!” she cried. She squeezed her fingers and Sophia seemed to slow down. “I'll kill them. Don't think I won't.”

“What makes you think I care about them?” Sophia asked, calling her bluff. “They're just men. We can always buy more.”

The woman stumbled over her next words, unsure of what to say.

“What do you mean, 'We can always buy more'!?” Jeff blurted out. “We're a Circus act! We work together. It took years of training to get us to perform at the level we are today. And isn't Jesse your lover?”

“...Dammit, Jeff,” Mack said, pinching the space between his eyes. “Every time...”

“What?”

The woman tightened her grip and pinned the men to her chest.

“Back off or I'll kill them,” she said. “And then you'll have to get a whole new act put together.”

Grunting out a response, Sophia lowered her guitar just as Michelle climbed out of the other wagon and joined them.

“Pardon Sophia's rude behavior,” Michelle said, extending a friendly hand forward. The woman didn't buy the bait and keep her fingers locked around the men. “We are members of the Circus, a traveling band of adventurers who are simply looking to entertain and inspire. I am Mischievelle and this is Sophia Van Helen. We have no desire to do ill harm towards you, and I'm sure you feel the same unto us.”

“I've already told your men I won't hurt them, so long as you do what I ask.”

Michelle smiled.

“It does not take a mind-reader to figure out what you want,” she said. “Bandages for those wounds are a must. Your feet are bloody and swollen. If you don't see a doctor soon, you may never walk again.”

“I don't need a doctor.”

“Now, you are just being stubborn. You and Sophia will get along fine. If you would just follow me...” Michelle tried to put an arm around the woman, but the woman sidestepped her and again shook her fist.

“Medical supplies...” she whispered. “Just give me what you have.”

“You need more than that. Let us help you.” Michelle locked eyes with the woman and waved her hand over the woman's face. “You don't want to hurt us. You want us to help you.”

“What are you doing?” The woman stared at her blankly and then slapped her arm away. “Stop that.”

“...That's strange,” the gypsy muttered. “That usually works.”

 “Okay, we tried it your way, Michelle,” Sophia said. Grabbing the neck of her lute, she turned it around and twisted one of the knobs, causing a knife to shoot out the bottom side. Before the woman could react, the blade had nicked the base of her nose. “Now, we try my way.”

The woman gulped.

Sophia's arm remained steady. “Let them go or I'll spill the rest of your blood on the ground.”

“You do and I'll land on these men so I crush them all,” the woman said boldly.

“You do and I'll tear out your organs one by one, stick them in a grinder, and make you drink them.”

“You do and I'll—”

“Enough from both of you!” Michelle said. “You two fight like children.” She turned to Sophia. “...Sophia, she's made it clear she doesn't want to hurt us. She just wants some of our supplies.”

“And your money,” the woman replied quickly.

“And our money.”

“And...” The woman's tongue licked the corner of her lips. “A horse.”

“Now you're pushing it.”

The woman squeezed her hand and Jeff's head nearly popped off.

“I'll get you a full medical kit and two hundred in gold coins,” Michelle answered, trying to calm her down. “Two hundred is more than enough to get you wherever you are going. Anymore and we'll be broke. I'll also give you one of the smaller horses in the back. They're not as strong as the others, but they're fast and they don't eat much. I imagine that's what you're looking for. Do we have a deal?”

The woman nodded. “...Fine. But hurry.”

Michelle went to fetch the supplies while Sophia lowered her weapon.

“If I do find out you're the one who took Bob and Guy, I'll make you pay,” she whispered. “These people are my family. They may be nothing to you, but they mean everything to me. You don't mean spit.”

“I know more about family than you know. I just want my supplies and I'll be on my way.” The woman apologized to the men in her hand again. “This is nothing personal.”

“No problem,” Roy said, giving her a thumbs up. “I kinda like it.”

The woman smiled, but only for an instant, as Michelle was quick to return. She carried with her a carefully folded wool blanket, two sacks full of coins, a three days' supply of bread and vegetables, and a small crate full of gauze bandages, healing potions, and herbs.

“These are our emergency provisions,” she said. “Anything more and we wouldn't have enough supplies for ourselves. I hope you understand.”

“Tie them to the horse and bring her here.”

Michelle nodded and untied one of the small black mares in the back of the caravan. She laid the blankets behind the saddle, strapped the supplies in place, and calmly led the steed to where the woman was waiting.

“She's all yours,” Michelle said, moving back. “Is there anything else?”

The woman grabbed the reins of the horse with her free hand.

“...I want one of your costumes,” she said.

“What?”

“A costume. I need new clothes to wear.” Her eyes went from Michelle to Sophia. “But I want them in my size.”

“Fuck you,” Sophia said. “You aren't getting anything.”

“I wonder if men can fly.” She raised her hand. “Should we find out?”

“Why do you want a costume? We have normal clothes.”

“Bring me a costume. Now.”

“...Fine,” Sophia hissed, storming back to the wagon. “I hope you like black.”

The woman waited patiently for her return. When she did, they made the exchange—the four men for the Circus outfit—and the woman mounted the horse. The pain in her side must have been great, though, because she nearly fell.

Michelle helped her back on and the woman thanked her before clicking her heels together at the horse's side and galloping off, bouncing loosely in her saddle as they crossed through the meadow and eventually disappeared over the hillside.

When she was at last gone, Sophia stuffed three of the men—all except Jesse, who she placed on her shoulder—into Michelle's palm.

“It's good to know we can always count on you when we're being robbed, Michelle,” she said sarcastically. “Now, hear this! 'When threatened with the lives of others, Michelle will give away everything we own.' I'm surprised you didn't offer her one of our wagons.”

Michelle's eyes were on the hillside.

“There was something off about her,” she said. “Did you see that wild look in her eyes? Like a savage. And she was immune to my powers. If her ambush wasn't so carefully planned out, I'd say she was crazy.”

“You're the one who's crazy for giving her all of our stuff. 'Emergency provisions,' my ass. That was everything we own!”

“Not everything. We still have each other.”

“Can it, Michelle. Now, we'll have to find the nearest town and restock. Unless you gave away our map too.”

“...We did a good thing here today. We helped somebody who was really in distress. Isn't that what the Circus code is all about?”

But Sophia's eyebrows were slanted.

“We're vigilantes—not clerics, Michelle,” she said. “If you want to mend broken spirits and give false hope to people, why don't you join the church and leave the ass-kicking to the professionals?”

 
-------------------------


It was nighttime in the pearl farms again, and the day workers had left on the tiny wooden ships bound for Little Penee, while the pirates were forced to stay behind and inspect the inventory once more. It had become almost routine for them. Harvest pearls by day, inspect by night. There was very little time between working shifts, so the scarce amount of sleep they could squeeze in left them weary, sluggish and bloody-eyed. Their muscles were stiff. Their arms were like candy. They talked mostly in murmurs, like drones in a factory, and yet they remained hopeful that this would all be behind them soon enough.

“What's the first thing you're going to do when you get out of here, cap'n?” Blackthorn asked, rolling yet another pearl into a cargo box for shipping. It wasn't the first time he had asked this question, but the fatigue made them all delirious.

“Gonna build me a new ship,” Jargon said. He had an open bottle of rum tucked under his arm, making the work more difficult than it needed to be. “Even better than the old one. And I ain't going to make any bets with a snake-tongued wench like Fayrelin again.” When the next pearl was loaded, the captain wiped the long hair from his brow, and took a hardy swig of ale.

“Now you're talkin'. No more deals with those rotten pygmies. This is a man's crew!”

“Hear, hear!” Jargon passed him the bottle.

Exthame, the best of the bunch, remained at his post, sober and hard at work.

“I wish you guys wouldn't say bad things about Fay behind her back,” he said. “After all, she was kind enough to keep us aboard the ship after she won it from you. She could've thrown us all overboard.”

“Aye, but a man should not be serving a pygmy. These mermaids got it all wrong.”

“That they do, cap'n,” Blackthorn agreed.

Exthame shook his head, but said no more.

It was quiet for a while. Then, there came a three note whistle of attention, and in walked Bruzzeli, strutting about like he owned the place. He had a wrench in his hand and he swung it loosely, banging it against his thigh.

“Good evening, gentleman,” he said. His gaze went from Jargon to Blackthorn to Exthame to Coop. He looked over his shoulder and then raised his left eyebrow when he saw there was nobody else in the room. “I'm looking for Malkav. You guys seen 'im?”

“Got a lot of people coming in here and looking for Malkav,” Coop said, hiding his face in a clipboard. “Don't mean we know where he's at.”

Bruzzeli chuckled. “That's funny, old man, because I was under the impression that you were all assigned to night duty. Ain't that right? All part of the plan.”

“I don't know of this 'plan' of which you speak. I'm just here to count pearls and mind my own.”

Bruzzeli spit on the floor and wiped it in with his boot.

“Don't tell me we're really taking this saggy sack of bones with us,” he said. “I'm surprised he hasn't ratted us out yet.”

Coop's eyes remained on the clipboard and his expression steadfast. “Like I said, I'm only here to mind my own. Your business is none of mine.” He pushed his eyeglasses along the ridge of his nose and returned to inventorying.

“Leave him alone,” Jargon said. “Ol' Coop has just as much right to be a part of this crew as the rest of us.”

“Yeah, except he's not taking any risks. We are.” His swung his body back towards Coop. “You hear that, old man? What do you bring to the table?”

“That's enough,” Exthame said. “We already told you we don't know where Malkav is. He left here early with Adam.”

“What could he be up to?”

“We don't know.”

“Well, don't you think it's a little strange he would leave with the big one and not tell you guys where he's going?” He leaned back on a crate and folded his arms across his chest. It was obvious he had been drinking, but, then again, who in this room hadn't? “Maybe this kid has some plans of his own. You ever think about that?”

“You have some real trust issues you need to work on, Bruzzeli.”

“Yeah, maybe. Maybe.” He spat again. “But just in case you're purposely trying to keep me in the dark, let me remind you I'm the only one with the outside resources to make this escape possible. Without me, you're as dead when you reach the surface as you would be in here.”

“So you've told us. Many times.”

“Well, make it many times and one! We're all in this together. Blood brothers, you know.”

“Why don't you make yourself useful and keep watch while we take a nap?” Jargon murmured. “These twenty-two hour work days are killing me.”

“I don't think so. I only came here to find Malkav. When you see him, tell him I got word from topside. We're on.” He started to walk away, but then stopped, hovering about in the doorway for a moment, and took a firm grip on the wrench handle. “Hey, old man.” He stepped over to Coop and knocked the clipboard from his hand.

Coop ignored him—and the pain in his back—as he knelt down to pick it up.

“Let me tell you something,” Bruzzeli said, towering over him. “I know you're probably thinking, 'If I turn them in, maybe the mermaids will take pity on a wrinkled old fart like me.' You probably think you got nothing to lose by ratting us out. Maybe so, but I would hate to see something happen to your son.”

“My son...?” Coop's voice trailed off and he stood back up slowly, leaving the clipboard where it had fallen.

“Yeah, your precious little boy. You think you can hide secrets from us? Don't you know I have eyes and ears everywhere?” He sneered when he saw a twitch in Coop's mustache whiskers. It wasn't much of a reaction, but it was enough. “Don't worry. My boys are taking real good care of him. Turns out he got mixed up with the wrong crowd when you went and got locked up here. My boys did him a favor, and now he owes them.”

Coop leaned into him. “Don't you hurt my son.” There was still power in his aging voice.

“Relax. Nobody's gonna get hurt. Just like nobody's gonna rat us out. Right?”

“I already told you. I'm not a snitch.”

“See to it that you aren't, or your boy just might end up as fish food. Like father, like son, eh?” Sliding the wrench into his back pocket, Bruzzeli turned to leave, with Coop staring at him until he was long out of sight. The twitch returned to his mustache and he stepped over the clipboard, only to fall back on a crate, clutching his chest.

“You okay, old man?” Jargon asked.

“I just...” Coop wheezed. “I just need to sit down for a minute.” He fell to the cement floor, gasping, and watched the ceiling lights sway back and forth. “...I haven't thought about my son for years. I thought he was dead.”

 
-------------------------


The woman rode through the meadows for what felt like hours, bouncing on the saddle of the black mare as she faded in and out of consciousness. The sun was a dizzying blur overhead. She stared at it, squinting, until her eyes rolled to the back of her head and and she leaned down on the horse's neck.

With the last of her strength, she steered the horse to a small cave, hidden amongst the brush and foliage, and rolled off. She didn't even tie the horse up as she grabbed what she could from behind the horse's saddle and stumbled towards the cave entrance, where a familiar spirit was waiting for her.

“I never thought I would approve of my granddaughter becoming a highway robber,” the spirit said. “Still, these are desperate times...”

The woman pushed past her, clawing at the rocks on the wall, and finally collapsed to her knees inside the cave. The stolen belongings in her arms spilled across the floor. She landed next to them, cheek against the cold earth, and exhaled slowly.

The spirit followed her into the cave and knelt down. “My dear Olivia, you look terrible. It is a good thing you would never let your poor old grandmother see you like this.”

With a ghostly hand, the spirit touched the back of Olivia's head and helped her to sit up. Then, the spirit's hand glowed, a bright blue ethereal flame, and the color slowly returned to the girl's face.

“I can't do that again,” Olivia said. “Did you see them? Those men had done me no wrong... And I was going to hurt them. I was as bad as Isabella or May.”

“I hardly think you warrant being compared to the likes of them.” Gwendolyn smiled. “I know my granddaughter well. I've watched over you every day, even after my death, and I dare say you are kindest soul in the world. If you look into your heart, I'm sure you know you were never going to hurt anybody. You simply had to make it seem real.”

“But Vlanis. I killed...” Olivia clutched her side and winched in pain. “I didn't mean...”

“Vlanis was a wicked woman. In her youth, she showed a great deal of promise, but she soon became bitter and resentful of the Sienna family name. She was thirsty for power. I tried to tell your mother about her, but I guess my warnings fell on deaf ears... At least we were able to keep Vlanis from becoming a Paladin. That organization has already become corrupted enough in darkness.”

“But what was that? That sword...” Olivia stared at the glowing epee on the floor. She had kept it wrapped in one of the blankets, but it must have come undone when she dropped everything. Now, it watched her, glowing in various shades of purple.

“That epee has been in our family for generations,” Gwendolyn said. “My grandmother passed it down to my mother, who passed it down to me.”

“But I found it buried in the vineyard. Why didn't you give it to my mother?”

“I think we both know the answer to that question, Olivia.” She motioned towards the blade. “Every time a member of the Sienna family dies, the epee becomes stronger. Within that sword, you hold the power of your greatest ancestors.”

“Then they helped me kill Vlanis...”

“She would've killed you—and many more innocent souls—if she had lived. Believe me, you did all of Adelais a great favor by ridding the world of her.”

“I'm not a murderer…” Ignoring the throbbing pain in her side, Olivia crawled towards her belongings and gathered them into a small pile. Next to her was a large, flat rock that would serve as a table.

She reached for the epee and laid it down on the rock so gently that it might as well have been made of glass. Then, hugging her knees into her chest, she stared at it for a long time. The purple flame was gone, but the eyes of the skull remained fixated on her, and it made her shudder. Eventually, she grabbed the blanket and threw it over top of the rock.

“It's okay to use the weapon sparingly,” Gwendolyn said, sitting next to her. “Many of our ancestors were great warriors. These days, our words serve us better in battle, but it is good to fight when you must.”

“Would I have killed those merchants if I had pointed the sword at them?”

“No. Not if you didn't intend to. The epee simply gives you the power to do what must be done in the current situation.”

Olivia nodded numbly and her eyes returned to the pile on the floor. Reaching down, she picked up a sack of gold in each hand and plopped them on the rock. They were heavier than she remembered. Untying them carefully, she dumped out the gold pieces and began to count. Between what she had here, the treasure she had found in the altar beneath the vineyard, and the trinkets she had stolen from her mother's dresser—she had made close to five hundred gold coins. Maybe seven hundred when she got her mother's jewelry appraised.

“It's not much,” Olivia said, and it certainly wasn't for one of the richest women in all of Ellewyn. “But it's too late to go back to Haledon, and I'm not robbing another caravan. I don't know what I would've done if those women hadn't had men with them. Strange that they were one of the few who actually seem to care about such creatures...”

“Not all women are as callous as your mother, Olivia.”

“I know...” She grabbed a handful of gold coins and began to stuff them back into the bags. “This will have to do. I can survive for a year on this if I live hand-to-mouth.”

“In Kaligar, it will be better if you keep a low profile. Having very little money is one way to do that.”

Next, Olivia began to stack the food on the rock. She nibbled at an apple, but her stomach ached and she still tasted blood, so she saved the rest for later.

“Those merchants were very kind to give me so much,” she said, staring at the week's worth of food in front of her.

“You can eat after we take care of those wounds. Come on.”

Olivia climbed onto the rock, put the medical kit in her lap, and opened it up. She wasn't sure what to do next, but her grandmother walked her through the process of bandaging her own wounds, and she was a quick learner. Before long, she was stripped down to her undergarments, and the bandages had been applied. She found a small hand mirror at the bottom of the kit, so she used that to wipe the dried blood from her skin, using a damp rag from a pool of cave water.

“You're beginning to look like your old self,” Gwendolyn said.

Olivia finished cleansing her face and put down the rag. “Yes, I am...” Holding onto the wall for support, she stood up. Her legs were still shaky, but she was able to lean forward and wedge the mirror between two rocks. Then, stepping back so that she was in full view of her reflection, she folded over a corner of the blanket and reached for the epee.

She studied it for a while, turning the metal blade over in her palm, and then gazed into her reflection. Holding her breath, she grabbed a lock of her long, beautiful, curly hair, and yanked it firmly. Then she raised the epee and chopped it off.

The first one was the hardest. She grabbed another fistful of hair and raised the epee again. Snip by snip, her black tresses fell to the cave floor, creating a small pile at her feet that continued to grow until she barely recognized herself.

When she was done, her bangs were gone and her hair was so short that the back of her neck was completely exposed.

“...You didn't have to do that,” Gwendolyn said. “The people of Kaligar don't keep tabs on what the royal members of Ellewyn look like.”

“I'm not going to Kaligar.” Olivia bent down. The only item left on the floor was the costume, which she began to slip into.

“What?” For a ghost, Gwendolyn turned noticeably pale. “Killing Isabella is not the answer. This land needs a queen more than you know.”

“I have no intention of killing Isabella. Why would you even suggest that?” When she was finished getting dressed, Olivia admired herself in the mirror. The costume was black fabric with gold lining down the arms and leggings, like something a matador would wear. The shoulderpads fit comfortably, but there was still a gap of skin between them and the bottom of her hair. This would take some time to get used to. She patted the jagged ends of her hair and turned around. “After all, we've seen how successful that plot has been for everybody else.”

“What's your plan then?”

Olivia reached the last item of the costume—a black face mask—and slipped it over her eyes.

 
-------------------------


Meanwhile, back at the pearl farms, Malkav, Adam, and Fayrelin had run into trouble. What kind of trouble, you ask?

Mermaid trouble, of course.

Selena and Nerin were back, swatting Adam back and forth with their tails like a volleyball, while Malkav and Fayrelin yelled at them from the shoreline.

“I'm so glad we decided to ditch night school for this,” Selena said.

“Get me down from here!” Adam screamed.

Nerin power-slapped him with her tail, sending him spiraling in the other direction. “Yeah. And this time, there's no patrol to stop us. Everybody is too busy getting ready for the opera.”

“Opera is sooo boring. I'm not even going. Are you?”

“I dunno. My mom is making me.”

“You have no right to do this!” Fayrelin was saying. “Do you have any clue who I work for? I'm a pygmy, and you are interfering with official business for Zana.”

“We're sorry—what did you say?” Selena asked. “We can't hear you. It must be all this water in our ears.”

Fayrelin opened her mouth to speak, but Selena's tail slapped Adam—and then the surface of the water—causing a huge wave to soak her from head to toe.

Both of the mermaids pointed and laughed at the dripping wet pygmy.

“Loser,” Nerin said, making an 'L' with her thumb and forefinger as she batted Adam back towards her friend. “You bipedals are so gullible.”

Fayrelin brushed the hair from her eyes. “Of all the worthless characters to get a second cameo...”

“Forget them,” Malkav said. “We've found where we can enter the aqueducts from. Let's just figure out a way to rescue Adam and get out of here.”

“So, this is interesting,” Selena said. “We have noodle arms...” She pointed to Malkav. “Spaghetti sauce...” She pointed to Fayrelin's auburn hair. “And a meatball.” She took another whack at Adam and laughed. “It's like we have an entire pasta dinner!”

“Uh, girls...” Adam's face turned green as he continued to somersault through the air. “I think I'm getting seasick.”

“Shut up, meatball.”

“So, who gets to eat whom?” Nerin asked. “There are three of them and only two of us.”

Selena pondered the question. “Hm, you're right. That's not very fair. It's like they're forcing us to fight amongst ourselves.”

“Well, surely I should get the extra one, seeing as how it's my birthday next week.”

“Ah, but it was my birthday last week.”

“That's true. How come all mermaids are Pisces?”

“I dunno, but I wouldn't be a good friend if I ate two and only left one for you. What do you say we split the meatball in half?”

“I would like that very much.”

“Okay. High five!”

They tail-slapped each other in midair, smashing Adam between their colorful glittering gills, and he fell into the water between them, gasping for air. Without stopping to think, he swam to the shore, where Malkav and Fayrelin helped him to his feet.

“We're going to eat you now,” Selena said. “And don't try that whole 'running away' thing because it's so cliché. In case you didn't know, mermaids are actually very capable on land.”

“Now would be a great time to come up with one of those plans of yours,” Fayrelin whispered into Malkav's ear.

“I'm working on it.”

“Working on it!?”

He pushed Adam and Fayrelin behind him. “You two make a run for the pygmy tower. I'll hold them off.”

“That's your plan?”

“Go!” he shouted, and he gave them a push forward. They went stumbling up the beach while the mermaids laughed at them.

“Look at the meatball try to run!” Nerin giggled.

“That's my friend you're talking about,” Malkav said. He spread his legs and took a firm stance in the sand, glaring up at the mermaids and their long, silky hair.

“No...that's our dinner we're talking about,” Selena said, and the mermaids laughed again. “I've seen sea slugs that were harder to catch. How long have you fish been here anyway? It's a wonder you haven't been eaten yet.”

“It's hardly a wonder,” Malkav said. “If you girls want them so badly, you'll have to get through me first.”

Selena and Nerin tried to compose themselves, but the sight of a man trying to stop them only brought another round of giggles to their lips.

“Would you like noodle arms, best friend of mine?” Selena asked.

Nerin nodded and her tail twitched excitedly. “It would be my pleasure.” Then, slapping her palms down on either side of Malkav, she threw her body forward and opened her mouth. Malkav didn't have a chance to move. Her teeth snapped down around him and she rose back to her full height, with her cheeks puffed out.

“How was he?” Selena asked.

Nerin crossed her eyes and gagged. Scrunching her face, she opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and a ton of sand poured out. The man was nowhere to be found.

The mermaids turned back to the beach. Nerin's handprints were still in the sand, but there was a divot in between where Malkav had been standing. Had he escaped into the hole?

Suddenly, there was a rumbling, and Malkav burst from the sand a few feet away, clutching the Scarab of Earth in his hand. It burned with a green glow, and so did the color of his eyes.

“Get him!”

Selena disappeared into the water. For a moment, the water was still. Then she sprung up, uncoiling her body the air, and dove straight for Malkav. A growing shadow was cast over his body as she came down.

She wasn't wasting any time trying to eat him. She was just going to land on him and crush him flat.

Malkav plunged his fist into the ground. The scarab glowed even brighter, and then he ripped out his hand and a torrent of sand came with it. Selena's body was pelted with a million tiny grains and she was thrown through the air, landing on the beach on her side and flopping around like a fish out of water.

“He got sand in my eyes!” she cried, rubbing at them furiously.

“He got sand in my mouth,” Nerin said. She spit out another mouthful of sand. “Uck.”

“He is so dead.”

But for a dead man, Malkav sure could run. He took off in the opposite direction as Adam and Fayrelin—who, by now, had almost reached the pygmy tower—and it wasn't long before the mermaids were chasing him. They had both taken to the water, but there wasn't enough space between the shoreline and the high vertical seawall next to him to feel safe, so he kept on running.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, realizing they were gaining on him. The seawall continued on for what looked like a mile at his height. But the mermaids would be upon him any second, and he couldn't take on them both. Not at the same time. Not without the element of surprise. Not a chance.

He wondered what he would taste like with tartar sauce. He hoped they would choke.

Running out of steam, Malkav was just about to turn around and face them when an arm extended down from the wall. Not looking up to see if it was Adam or Fayrelin, he grabbed onto the hand, planted his feet on the side of the seawall, and began to climb. Just as he reached the top, the full weight of Nerin and Selena's bodies crashed into the seawall. He flew forward, just missing their desperate swipes at his legs.

His rescuer pulled him to his feet and they took off through the alleyway, finally stopping to catch their breaths when the angry cries from the mermaids turned to vicious taunts and then finally to vows of revenge.

“Pretty gutsy thing you did there,” the rescuer said, and now Malkav realized it was neither Adam nor Fayrelin who had saved him. “Not every man will go toe-to-toe with a mermaid like that. Figuratively speakin', o' course.”

“Wanker...” Malkav quickly pocketed the scarab that was in his hand. “What are you doing here?”

“Savin' your hide—what does it look like?”

“I didn't need rescued.”

“I'm sure you were just lulling them into a false sense of security. I'm just doing my part to help out. No need to thank me.” Wanker dusted the sand from Malkav's clothes and grinned. “What was up with that sand attack? Impressive stuff. Not everyone can do that.”

“You still didn't tell me what you're doing here.”

“...You got a lot of powerful enemies, you know that?”

“Yeah. I'm aware.”

Wanker jerked his thumb back towards the wall. “Well, Zana sent those mermaids after you.”

“What? Why would she do that?”

“Uh, 'cause she's a lowdown, two-faced, backstabbin' barnacle who would sell her own mother for a stiff drink?”

“Good point.”

“Yeah, she suspected you and the redheaded pig were up to something. Tried to sweet-talk me into bein' her snitch. Ya know, look into things for her where a pig can't get close. 'Course, Zana's kind of sweet-talk could strip paint from a stone wall. But once I made her see I wasn't for sale to the likes of her, I guess she decided to quit wasting her threats on me and put 'em directly on the source of her ire.” He looked at Malkav sideways and raised a single eyebrow at him.

“Guess so.” Malkav brushed him aside. “Anyway, thanks for your help. I can take it from here.”

Wanker watched him leave. “What were you doing anyway? You and that pig—what were you doing? Malkav? ...Hey, Malkav. I'm talkin' to you. Get back here!”

But Malkav kept on walking.

“Malkav!”

When he was gone, Wanker kicked over the trash can next to him, cursed, and stormed back down the alleyway.

Selena and Nerin were waiting for him, their forearms stretched over the side of the seawall.

“I thought we gave them a good scare,” Nerin said. “Did you see the expression on their faces? I thought the meatball was going to pee his pants.”

Wanker looked up at the mermaids. “It wasn't good enough. He still doesn't trust me.”

“Well, that's not our fault,” Selena said. “We did our part.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Look. You better pay up, fish.”

“I said I'm good for my word, and I am.”

“Whatever.” Selena flicked her tail. “Come on, Nerin. Let's get out of here before I eat this fish just for the fun of it.”

“You'd probably get some kind of disease from him,” Nerin giggled, and she stuck her tongue out at Wanker. “See ya later, fish. Try not to get eaten by somebody prettier than us.”

The mermaids dove back into the water, but not without first smashing through the wall with their tails and laughing as the stone crumbled to the earth.

As they bounced happily through the water, Wanker stepped into the hole left in the wall and scowled at them. “That's right. Just keep swimmin'. I'll find out what those two are up to on my own...”