The Boxcar

I have the memories of five warriors, but this would be my first battle on home territory under my own power. Preparing for it had been by spinal reactions, but inside, there was a small corner of my brain looking for a place to hide. Waiting for the go signal, that small piece of me wanted to run, but I knew this was something that needed to be done.

Suddenly there was too much going on, keeping track of the patrol made up of Jaegers who had learned to swim and Qli taking Beck out of harm’s way - that which was called Steel Head by the urchins was cornered, even if it did not know. As soon as it realized it was cut off, we would need to banish it quickly.

Zaide’s notes said the key to the thing would be something small, easily carried by the primary life form of the plane. Finding it visually in this morass of flotsam was difficult, especially while dodging the large bodies in battle. The boxcar was huge if you were searching for something that fit in the hand, but far too small for a patrol of Jaegers to duke it out with something making a bid for demigod. At Father’s shout, I risked flying by wireframe in Sight.

THERE! It glowed feebly with Beck’s soul trapped in the web, and I was horrified to find the web was made up of the wisps of the souls caught before him! The thing was making the prison stronger with each soul it caught to anchor! Smashing it would do no good, Beck would die, and the others would not go on to the planes of their beliefs.

Papa picked up on my distress, and growled, “Do vat hyu must, Hy will coffer.” With his bulk between me and that thing that did not belong here, I had to move fast. Unmaking something made by a mind this twisted was hard, like trying to explain land physics to a fish, but I had a little help from Beck, as he roiled about in the center, and oddly enough, from Chi Yun. He had been tapped as a herald, but had been killed before the call had pulled him in completely. He writhed in impatience as we unwove the prison holding them.

Beck’s sluggish reactions meant he would need help finding his way, but we had that already. As Chi Yun joyfully folded into the space between planes for his reincarnation, and what was left of Polish Bob was gathered to Purgatory for reformation, I gathered Beck up and pitched him to the catcher on the pier, mentally shouting **Lady Fairycat! Heads up!** Even as she winced at the horrid (and really unintentional, honest!) pun, Softpaw pulled his soul and body back together.

Then Ya Yiwama got angry.

Thrashing about, it reached for the tooth, throwing the patrol around as if they were children's toys. The last bit of the tooth was still holding him here, and I frantically incinerated it, the last of the ash disintegrating to nothing just before the thing reached Papa. When it was gone, so was Steal Head, then something shifted under the boxcar, and it began to slide into the harbor. Papa shouted, “Shift out, Hy get out onder!” and he dove for the opening on the underside of the boxcar, following Decebalus and Radu.

Qli was wedged up against the wall, not moving. I was able to reach her as the water reached half-way up the tilting boxcar floor. At my touch, she initiated a galvanic transmission, [SELF-DIAGNOSIS: TESSERACTOR DESTROYED. SPINAL COLUMN DESTROYED. LIMBS DESTROYED. SAVE YOURSELVES. COLLECT ME AFTER. POWERING DOWN.] I kissed her forehead and promised, “I will be back for you after I get the diving gear.” Then I slipped between planes to the place Father had designated as the medical triage area.

It just keeps getting worse....

Fine, I get Mama to rest a few days, and she sets up a containment circle for neophyte epmaths in the Folly garden. At least this time she did it with the notes I left, and it isn't draining her to leave it up.

Beck's been missing for too long, and not in any of the usual spots he goes to pollute himself as part of his self-medication. I didn't get a link on him, my fault - I didn't think he'd go that far on walkabout. I'll tag him when we find him again, with or without his permission. Need to get with that jeweler and find out what we can trace, if we can manage a shield that will let her sense him without getting out of control.

Control - I haven't been keeping my shape well, if the reactions from Mama's assistant are any gauge. I thought I had managed to stay unnoticeable, but either I have cracks in the glamorie, or she's seen too many of what she calls "uncanny" acts. I don't know, maybe it's just because she knows me now. I'm tired enough it could be I am just forgetting to check it.

Father has his hands full of zombies again. I swear, they ought to just have inoculations every equinox, considering how often that comes up again. Except for that librarian, and the ones Father is able to treat, zombies are a bloody nuisance, literally. There's a weird thought... the librarian zombie seems to have the best social skills, I ought to see if it is the knowledge, instead of brains, that they need.

Back to Steelhead, flying on too little sleep, I go to ground before Xavael starts to patrol. Even with the bloodline trace, it's hard to believe the link to the Founder. Still gives me the shakes remembering the emergence.

Wolfgang is usually on watch when I get in. He wrinkles his nose at me when I collapse on the davenport without taking off my armor. Sorry to be such a slob, but I don't think anybody's going to sleep without some sort of weapon in hand. Papa was half-dozing in the armchair, last time I was there, and he had switched back to his old patrol leathers. The 'kin haven't had any leave time lately, but the hunt has caught their attentions.

Still, this can't go on much longer. I need sleep.

Hell Week All Over

Between interviewing the staff that were having sleep problems, tracking down trace evidence for the Quester, and trying to keep the staff from forming an angry mob, I’ve been distracted from a situation I can feel but can’t help. Not that I could leave my duties here, but there is something going on... later.

What with the Gallifreyans occasionally dropping by for a cryptic bit of interrogation over tea now and again, I figure I eventually figure out how to time-shift between planes, or they have me confused with my sister. You don’t know her yet, so don’t worry. The one that dropped by this week was mercifully brief, and I dropped a bug in her ear about checking on my brother in a few decades. I can’t get more specific than that from this angle.

I got a quick visit from Great Uncle Ibiz, after I sent him a note with questions about shielding others from psychic attacks. His lessons came just in time, what with Hâjdău fretting over her beau, and others on staff worrying about their families. Aunt Kitla has been setting wards along many of the residential streets, focusing on protecting the Managers and Council first, as they are going to have to take the lead against... whatever is coming.

That was an interesting interview, going to Manager Lunar and asking his permission for the equations to be formed. His main worry was that it would make us seem unfriendly to all. Aunt Kitla reassured him that the wards would only work on those with intent to harm. I quietly had a word with one of the owls later, asking if they could keep an eye out for us. I got a cryptic, sort of feeling, sort of “If we have time” from them. I may fly, but I still don’t understand birds.

Another cryptic one is the watcher for Antfarm. I managed to snag a salmon over the falls before dropping in yesterday morning, and the tomcat was waiting on the front porch. [he sleeps now, and not so many nightmares from the other place] he said before tearing into the salmon I had field-dressed. While he ate, I checked the wards I had put on the house. Still there, and this one was a bit hinky, since I set them up without Mr Antfarm’s permission. Not that he could see them. I think. But they were to protect him, and unlike the personal protections I did for the staff, I was able to link these wards to the ley lines on the property. The tomcat spoke up suddenly, [watch your head - the one coming is old - very old - likes sneaking up on the sleeping ones]. I nodded, [Thank you, cousin, I will].

Normally, my next stop would be Dr Beck’s office, but I was too tired for another argument-that-was-only-a-discussion-about-his-health, and headed for the Consulate office. The clerk’s den was buzzing, much like any industrious hive, but there was an undertone to the murmurs, one that did not bode well for the perpetrator of the dreams. There is fear, but a lot of the staff are transmuting that into anger. The ones from the Old Country don't take well to being manipulated like that. Aunt Kitla’s report has already made the rounds of the desks here, and they seem to understand her conjecture that there is a pawn being used, one that is not well educated enough to be a sorcerer calling up an Elder God. This is the benefit of having an educated populace, at least they have a proper discussion before voting to take up pitchforks and torches.

Hâjdău greeted me with a cup of tea and a pastry from the galley, and generally fussed over me until Mama was done with the courier in her office. Mama has one rule about going into her office - if the door is closed, you don’t go in unless the building is on fire. The kid looked much more rested than the last time I saw her, and miles better than when I first saw her for her nightmares. While I ate, she gathered the reports on the Quester’s needs for me, and typed up my rough notes on my last patrol for Vater. We finished up about the time the courier left Mama’s office, and as I was putting my plates at the galley, I heard someone sneeze. Hâjdău muttered, “sănătate,” as a few others absently said “bless you,” and Mama responded, “mersi”.

When a few heads popped up at that exchange, I grabbed my bag out of the aether and went to her office. Considering the last time Mama was ill, it was from that expedition into the Mines, and that was almost two years ago. “What have you been doing, other than too much?” I asked as I began the examination. She waved at me irritably, “I am fine, just tired.” Her shields were fairly thin, though. “How many are you shielding, now?” I asked, knowing her technique was to spin out additional shields from her personal ones.

She shrugged, “Family, students and some of the staff... maybe fifteen, all told. No, I added Miss Blackheart to the network after the meeting, sixteen.” Then she sneezed again.

“Hâjdău, could you go get the captain, and Messenger, please let the Baron know Mama is on sick leave.” Mama’s assistant dashed off and Messenger nodded, asking “How long do you estimate she will be unavailable?”

“Normally, I’d say two weeks, but it will be a fight to keep her in bed more than a few days.” He nodded and began drafting a note for Vater. Mama was not at all happy about it, “Why are you bringing Captain Veles in on this?” I was still checking her over, and not liking what I saw. “Because the only way to get you to rest properly is to set your bodyguard on the detail, and Aunt Birdie is still at Bunică’s house.” She started winding up for a debate, but as soon as Papa showed up with Hâjdău trailing behind, she probably saw it was not an argument she would win.

“Fine, but I am still expecting reports...” she muttered, until Papa shook his head, and led her from the office to the house. Hâjdău asked as they left, “Is she really cut off from the daily reports? We really should have something for her, or she’ll worry.”

“And worrying will not help her get better, true. Send a copy of the morning reports, and I’ll make sure she sleeps through the afternoon dispatch.” I nodded, “Good thing you’re here - you’d be wasted in the schloss.” With that, I closed the door to Mama’s office and left on foot, following my own advice to get some rest.