Wind Runner: The Complete Collection (1-5)

I would if I wasn’t banned…

“Nah, this seems like it could be a good bonding activity for us,” said Malcolm.

Tapestry raised an eyebrow at him.

“A bonding activity?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “For us to get closer as, uh, partners. That makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“Did you get enough sleep last night, Malcolm?”

“No, actually, I didn’t,” he said. “But you know what I mean. We haven’t exactly been on the same page all that consistently, lately.”

Tapestry sighed.

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “No promises, though. I don’t think the friction between us is of the variety that can be bonded out.”

Malcolm chuckled.

“We’ll see,” he said.

The meditation retreat was held in a building adjacent to the hotel. As soon as the other participants began to file in, Malcolm began regret his decision to tag along. The crowd was mostly female, and mostly young. He stood out like a sore thumb.

It began with a yoga class. Malcolm stumbled through it, not having a good sense of what the moves were or how to go into them. He had to rely on his wind manipulation to hold his body in place for a few of the movements, which was actually good practice.

A massage came next, and Malcolm enjoyed it far more. Tapestry was in the same room as him for hers, and he listened with a bit of ironic delight as her masseuse complimented her on her flawless skin and bemoaned the fact that youth was wasted on the young.

Feeling much, much more relaxed than he’d expected to, Malcolm headed with Tapestry toward the last activity. The brochure in their hotel room had listed it as a spirit sauna. Malcolm had only a vague idea of what that meant.

“I guess we both wear towels for it?” said Tapestry, as she examined the area outside their assigned sauna.

“Well thank god for that,” he said. “Otherwise I’d have to see you naked.”

She punched him playfully on the arm and scooped up one of the massive towels. The saunas were small, only large enough for two or three people each, and after ditching their clothes and donning their towels, Malcolm and Tapestry walked into theirs.

It was dimly lit inside, and the illumination that did come through came from lights that gave off the effect of a constellation in the night sky. Ambient music played softly in the background. The air was hot and dry, and smelled slightly of sweet smoke.

“Now what?” asked Malcolm. “Do we just… sit, chill out here, or something?”

“You’re so impatient,” said Tapestry. “It’s a spirit sauna. You just focus on your breathing, and try to find a place of peace.”

“You sound like you’ve done this before,” said Malcolm.

“A couple of things kind of like it,” said Tapestry. “Not this specifically.”

He went quiet. A minute or two passed by, and Malcolm saw what she meant. The heat made him sweat relentlessly, but there was something calming and cleansing about it. It was easy to lose track of his own thoughts and fall through to a deeper state of being.

“What was your life like before you became a champion?” asked Tapestry.

“Uh…” Malcolm frowned. “Is it question time, or something?”

“It can be, if you want,” she replied. “I just realized that you haven’t told me all that much about it. Now seemed as good a time as any to ask.”

What was my life like before I became a champion? Where do I even start…

“It was boring,” said Malcolm. “And really pointless.”

“Give me more than that,” said Tapestry. “I’m really asking. Boring and pointless can describe anyone’s life, at some point.”

“I guess that’s what I was getting at.”

“You mean…” Tapestry hesitated. “Because of your family?”

“Partially,” said Malcolm. “That was the seed. Losing mom and Danny… threw me off balance.”

Losing mom. But Danny is still out there, still a loose end looking to be tied up.

“Elaborate,” said Tapestry. “Threw you off balance? What does that mean?”

Malcolm sighed.

“I was fifteen when they died,” he said. “Think about that for a second. I didn’t have any real coping skills other than to keep my mouth shut about it and try not cry in front of people.”

“I’m sorry,” said Tapestry.

“When I say that I was lonely, I mean that I was alone,” said Malcolm. “It was just me. With all the usual teenage stuff going on, along with emotional trauma and a hole in my heart where my family used to be.”

Tapestry didn’t say anything.

“I think that’s why I… push so hard, now,” said Malcolm. “To try to lock in the people I do know. You look at the world a little differently when you’ve lost so much before. I feel like I’m in a race to get to know people, to care about them, before… I lose them.”

Malcolm took a breath.

“Alright, time for me to shut up,” he said, quickly. “Your turn.”

“No, I want to hear more from you,” protested Tapestry.

“Tell me about your husband,” said Malcolm.

“My… husband?” Tapestry sounded stunned. “Why would you want to know about my husband?”

“You said his name in your sleep last night,” Malcolm admitted. “If he’s on your mind anyway, you might as well open up to me.”

A couple of silent moments went by, and Malcolm started to think that Tapestry had closed herself off.

“Allen…” she said. “He was a good man in so many ways.”

“Like what?”

Tapestry made a pleased, nostalgic sounding noise.

“He used to volunteer at the local animal shelter,” she said. “He’d bring home animals every now and then that we’d keep at our house for a couple of days.”

Tapestry paused, taking a breath.

“He never missed a day of work,” said Tapestry. “Only ever let himself get sick on weekends. Until, well… the cancer.”

“Sorry,” said Malcolm. “You don’t have to keep going, if it’s painful.”

“No, it’s alright,” said Tapestry. “I want to get this out. I… loved Allen. We were together for almost forty years, long enough to love and hate each other. I was sick of him while simultaneously being unable to imagine anyone else.”

“Sounds complicated,” said Malcolm.

“Believe me, it was,” said Tapestry. “He was very old fashioned. That’s a polite way of saying boring. There’s so much I feel like I missed out on, so many things I wanted to try and experiment with…”

“And now, you have a second chance,” said Malcolm.

Tapestry sighed.

“I’m not sure if I want it,” she said. “I feel guilty… like I don’t deserve it. I don’t know, sometimes I think… maybe I’d trade it in for just another boring year with Allen.”

“That’s ridiculous,” said Malcolm.

“Hey!” said Tapestry. “I was a good listener for you. The least you can do is try for me.”

“Sorry,” said Malcolm.

A couple of seconds went by.

“I have the opposite kind of trust issue, I think,” said Tapestry. “I know that I’ll never get to lock anybody in for the long haul again. Not like I did with Allen.”

“That’s not true,” said Malcolm.

“I’m… relatively sure I can’t die from old age, Malcolm.” Tapestry’s voice took on an odd, almost nervous quality. “What’s the point of falling in love with somebody if I know that their life will just be a blip, compared to mine?”

Should I bring up the fact that if I held onto her power, I could live just as long as she could?

He didn’t. Instead, he reached over to her in the sauna and squeezed her hand.

“Just do what the rest of us do,” said Malcolm. “Try not to think about it.”

Tapestry laughed.

CHAPTER 18

They enjoyed the sauna for a while longer before heading back to their room. The meditation retreat had burned through most of the day, while also making the two of them quite hungry. Tapestry ordered room service on Savior’s dime, and they ate prime rib with roasted potatoes and fancy baby carrots with their stems still on.

“Somebody dropped off the masks for us,” said Tapestry, holding up their disguises for the masquerade ball. They were fanciful looking eye masks, with enough glitter and sequins on them to push into gaudy territory. Malcolm’s was dark blue, while Tapestry’s was pink.

“It starts in less than an hour,” said Malcolm. “We should get dressed and get moving. This could be a good chance for us to grab Golden Joab.”

Tapestry shrugged.

“Sure,” she said. “I can’t help but think that this whole thing just feels like a wild goose chase.”

“It’s what Savior sent us to do,” said Malcolm.

And if we manage to do it… I might be able to earn a pardon for Rose.

The thought felt odd, almost foreign. He hadn’t thought much about Rose since coming to the hotel, and outside of their brief exchange near Terri’s Tavern, it had been a week since they’d really spoken. Was he wasting his time on something that she didn’t need, or even want?

He thought about the question while he pulled on his formal suit and bow tie. Tapestry came out of the bathroom, wearing a stunning red dress. It had a plunging v-line that exposed the edges of her breasts, and clung to every curve of her body as though it had been painted on.

“Wow,” said Malcolm. “I guess Wax knows his dresses.”

“Apparently so.” Tapestry frowned. “I’m not sure that I like it. I feel exposed, and it will be a pain to move around in during a fight.”

Malcolm shook his head slowly.

“You look amazing,” he said. “In that dress… A better strategy would be for you to just ask Golden Joab to leave with you.”

“Oh, stop!” she protested.

“Seriously,” said Malcolm. “You’re smoking hot, Tapestry.”

He grinned at her and took a step closer. Tapestry didn’t look away, but she did lift her finger and press it against Malcolm’s chest as he came within reach.

“Cool it, mister,” she said. “We’ve already had this conversation.”

“Sorry,” said Malcolm. “Sometimes my hormones prevent me from thinking straight. That’s not a joke, I’m being serious.”

Tapestry rolled her eyes. The two of them spent another few minutes in the hotel room gathering what they’d need for an evening out, and then headed off to the masquerade ball.

The Hawktail Hotel had several rooms designed for events and parties located just off the main entrance. One of them was a massive ballroom, with an enormous chandelier hanging overhead. People were already queuing at glass double doors, only being allowed in if they’d showed up with a mask, as instructed.

Malcolm and Tapestry were waved through the entrance. They meandered toward one of the corners of the ballroom, where they could see the entire floor easily. Malcolm felt more than a little out of place. He waved down one of the cocktail waitresses as she hurried past, grabbing a drink off her tray and thanking her.

I’ve done more drinking over the past few days than I have in most of the rest of my life put together.

“Alright,” said Tapestry. “This could be fun, even if Golden Joab doesn’t show up.”

Malcolm surveyed the room, feeling an odd thrill at how many beautiful, mask wearing women were in attendance. His own mask felt itchy strapped over his eyes, but it didn’t limit his vision, which was all he really cared about.

“I guess,” said Malcolm. “This isn’t really my sort of crowd, though.”

“Really?” asked Tapestry, in a teasing voice. “I had no idea.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes at her.

“I’m going to take a drink every time a guy looks down your dress,” he said. “Shouldn’t take more then, oh, ten minutes or so to get plastered.”

Tapestry flushed.

“Who did you see looking down my dress?” she demanded.

Soft piano music started playing from the overhead speakers. A few couples moved onto the dance floor, spinning and swirling with relaxed ease to the rhythm of the song. Malcolm raised an eyebrow at Tapestry expectantly.

“Well?” he asked. “We’re newlyweds, after all. It’s no good if we don’t at least try to do some dancing.”

“You know how to ballroom dance?” asked Tapestry, skeptically.

“It can’t be that hard, can it?”

As Malcolm soon discovered, it was that hard. Within the first few minutes of dancing, he gained a better understanding of where the phrase “two left feet” originated from. Tapestry was patient, slowing her pace until Malcolm was leading by default.

“Alright, you win,” he said.

“It’s not a contest.” Tapestry had a radiant smile on her face. “You know… I always wanted to go dancing like this.”

“I figured you did?” asked Malcolm. “How did you learn, otherwise?”

“Through lessons,” said Tapestry. “Lessons I went to alone. Allen wasn’t even willing to try, but I can’t blame him for it.”

She drew in closer to Malcolm, resting her head on his shoulder for a second. It was nice, and he let himself enjoy it. When the song ended, he walked over to a table with her, pulling out Tapestry’s chair for her so she could sit down first.

“Why don’t I go find us some more drinks?” asked Malcolm.

Tapestry grinned at him.

“That would be lovely,” she said.

Malcolm returned a couple of minutes later to see Tapestry being led onto the dance floor by another man. She had her back turned to him, and he just stared at her for a couple seconds, unsure of how to react.

Someone else asked her to dance. It’s not something to make a big deal out of, right?

He set the drinks down and tapped his fingers on the table. Sitting down and just waiting for Tapestry to get back felt a bit defeatist. He let his gaze scan the room, looking for an available woman who’d be interested in putting up with a clumsy dance partner.

“Can I have the next dance?” asked a woman, from behind him.

Malcolm flinched in surprise. He turned around and saw a beautiful black-haired woman wearing a purple sequined mask. She was attractive, at least a couple of years older than him, and very familiar looking.

Wait a second… That’s Rose!

His jaw dropped open when made the connection. Her skin was pale white, not its normal shade of purple, and her eyes were a soft brown instead of black, but it was her. She smirked at him, and he knew it without any doubt.

“What… are you doing here?” asked Malcolm. “How…?”

“I’m not sure what you mean?” said the woman. “Are you interested in dancing, mysterious masked stranger? Or should I move on to the next table?”

She extended her hand. Malcolm took it and led her onto the dance floor, his heart threatening to pound its way loose out of his chest.

CHAPTER 19

“You’re here for Golden Joab,” said Malcolm. After his initial shock had worn off, it had been easy to guess her motivation. He swirled Rose in a circle, letting her spin out along his arm before grabbing her hand and pulling her back in.

“Very perceptive,” said Rose. “Though I was hoping that you’d assume that I was just here to see you.”

“Rain Dancer sent you, then?” asked Malcolm. “You’re at his beck and call, now, running errands for him?”

“You say that as though you weren’t set by someone, yourself,” said Rose.

“How did you manage the disguise?” asked Malcolm.

“One of our new recruits,” said Rose. “A spryte by the name of Fantasy. I believe the two of you have met before.”

Malcolm frowned, remembering his first foray into Terri’s Tavern, and the hidden world of sprytes and demons in Vanderbrook. Fantasy had made a spirited attempt at seducing him, using her illusion power to create a vivid, and rather motivating, fantastical scene.

She’s using it to make Rose and herself look like normal humans. Clever.

“You should give up,” said Malcolm. “Go back to Rain Dancer. Tell him that you failed.”

“Why in the world would I do that?” Rose whispered the question into Malcolm’s ear, letting her lips brush across his neck.

“Because you can’t win,” said Malcolm. “I have backup, too.”

“Your champion girlfriend?” asked Rose. “She looks pretty distracted, at the moment.”

Malcolm glanced over his shoulder to see Tapestry dancing with the man from before, who was rather good at the ballroom style. It made Malcolm feel a little annoyed to see the look on her face, and how much fun she was having, but he pushed the emotion aside.

“Don’t play games with me, Rose,” said Malcolm. “I care about you… But I’ll fight against you, if I have to.”

“Oh, you sound so confident,” she said. “Haven’t we done this dance before, Malcolm? What makes you think you could handle me this time?”

“I absorbed Savior’s powers,” said Malcolm.

It wasn’t technically a lie. He had absorbed Savior’s powers, at one point. The fact that he hadn’t figured out how to use them and had since replaced them with Tapestry’s wasn’t something Rose needed to know. Her eyes widened slightly at his revelation.

“Wow,” she said. “I forgot how ambitious you could be, when you want to be.”

She spun along Malcolm’s arms, pressing herself tight against him.

“I think we have more fun when we’re friends, rather than enemies,” she whispered.

Malcolm couldn’t keep a small grin from spreading across his face.

“I know we do.” He let his hand slide across her soft butt for an instant. “But I’m here to do a job.”

“I guess the question is…” Rose breathed against the sensitive skin of his neck, planting a quick kiss there. “…Can you get the job done?”

Something was about to happen, but whether it was to be violence or passion, Malcolm had no idea. He took a strong, aggressive grip around Rose’s waist and brought his face in close to hers, his lips searching for hers.

In the same instant, the lights suddenly flicked off. Only a single spotlight in the center of the dance floor was left on. A man stood within its light, dressed in tight black leather pants and a garish white shirt that exposed a significant amount of chest hair. His head was topped with a blond, loosely twisted man bun, and the expression on his face was overly serious.

The music from the speakers overhead shifted from a soft, ambient piano track, to something halfway between techno and dubstep. The man lifted his arms up into the air and began shaking his hands back in forth.

Rose had pulled away from Malcolm as soon as the lights had gone out. He swore under his breath, realizing that the man holding the attention of the room was, in all likelihood, Golden Joab.

Golden Joab spun around in a circle, bobbing his head forward and back to the rhythm of the music. He shook his shoulders up and down, doing a ridiculous looking dance and occasionally gesturing to the audience members closest to him.

“Behold!” he shouted. “Magic… of the likes you’ve never seen before!”

He ripped his shirt further open and stomped a foot down on the ground. Smoke began to rise from the floor. Golden Joab sank down into it, waving his hands in front of his eyes and head theatrically.

The smoke thickened for a moment, and then began to clear. Golden Joab was gone. Malcolm frowned, unsure of whether to be impressed or not. He tried to spot Tapestry in the crowd, but the dim lighting made it into an impossible task.

“Disappear!” shouted Golden Joab’s voice. “And… reappear!”

The spotlight bobbed up to the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Golden Joab stood atop it, his chest puffed out and his hands on his waist. He grinned and blew a kiss down to the ground, almost losing his balance in the process.

“I will show you the true meaning of the word… magic!” he shouted over the music. The tempo of the beat began to build, and Golden Joab began swaying back forth, the chandelier groaning under his weight.

The chain connecting it to the ceiling gave a high-pitched whine as it fell. It hit the floor hard, glass from the fake fire bulbs on its tips shattering and spraying a few nearby women with glass. One of them cried out and dabbed at a small, bloody scratch on her cheek.

“Magic!” Golden Joab’s voice came from the ballroom’s entrance this time. “I am unharmed… through the power of magic.”

The spotlight panned over to him. He slowly lifted his hands into the air, wiggling his fingers and staring out into the crowd. A hesitant, awkward applause broke out. Joab started laughing and pointing at people with finger guns.

“Come check out my show tomorrow night!” he said. “It’s certainly more interesting than this little shindig. Too bad about the chandelier.”

Malcolm saw a figure move in the shadows behind Golden Joab.

Rose!

He pushed through a group of people ahead of him, trying to get to the magician before Rose did. He stopped in mid step when he realized that the man was already gone. It was as though he’d vanished into thin air.

On first examination, Golden Joab had not looked like either a spryte or a demon. Malcolm knew that it was possible that the man could be gifted, and only avoiding the overtures of the Champion Authority out of a need for independence or a disapproval of their methods. It seemed unlikely, but so did the other possibility.

He could just be good at magic. No superpowers involved…

Malcolm did a quick scan of the ballroom, just to make sure. There was a back exit, and sure enough, a shadowed figure was hurrying out through it. The lights slowly came back on, and Malcolm saw another woman he recognized hurrying toward the back exit with her skirt hiked up for mobility.

That’s Fantasy, illusion spryte and seductress supreme.

He moved to the side of the ballroom before calling the wind and using it to speed his steps toward the back exit. Fantasy made it through a few seconds before he did. Malcolm charged through the door, and ran right into her.

“Ow!” she cried, as they both tumbled to the ground.

“What’s the hurry?” asked Malcolm, pulling himself to his feet. “You wouldn’t have somewhere to be, would you?”

Fantasy was blonde bombshell, though Malcolm suspected it was a result of her powers, rather than natural looks. Her hair was reminiscent of a mythical princess, worked into a long braid that fell all the way down to her waist.

She appeared to have, large, full breasts, and a butt that was eye catching even in the fluffy, frilly dress she had on. She stared at Malcolm for a moment, her eyes perking up as she recognized him.

“Wind Runner…” she said, bringing a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my. Rose will be thrilled to know that you’re here… even if it makes for an obstacle to our task.”

She extended her hand as though to shake Malcolm’s. He shook his head slowly, confused by how casually she was greeting him.

“Uh… Aren’t we supposed to fight now?” he asked. “Isn’t that usually how this goes?”

Fantasy smiled. She had a small mole just underneath one of her eyes, and it brought out the smooth lines of her cheek bones.

“A fight! How dazzling would that be?” She let out a high pitched, exaggerated laugh. “Well then, let’s have it.”

She turned around and ran off. Malcolm hesitated only for a moment before giving pursuit. She continued down the hallway they were in and through another door. Malcolm followed her, finding that it led to another, currently unused ballroom.

The door slammed shut behind him. Malcolm whirled around and saw Fantasy standing in front of it, working the locking mechanism.

“What do you expect that to do?” he asked.

“Keep you in here,” she said. “Or should I say… in here?”

She waved her hand in his direction. The ballroom was gone in an instant, and Malcolm’s jaw dropped at what he saw in its place.

CHAPTER 20

Malcolm was outside, or at least appeared to be. The sun was shining overhead, and he was surrounded by a forest, not of trees, but of flowers. The colors were dazzling, but Malcolm forced his attention away from them and back onto his opponent.

She could be anywhere. It’s up to her if she shows herself.

An insect whizzed by Malcolm’s face. It glowed blue, and on closer inspection, it wasn’t an insect at all, but a tiny, naked faerie. There were dozens of them, spanning the spectrum of a rainbow, twisting and twirling, and distracting him from what he needed to be doing.

“This won’t work, Fantasy!” shouted Malcolm. “I’m not just going to fall for a, well, uh… a fantasy.”

Malcolm slowly began walking forward. He could hear music, and after a few more steps, he spotted a small, green haired elf girl playing a flute and dancing around the grass. There was a tall woman dressed in chainmail standing nearby, too, massaging the hilt of her sword provocatively.

“Greetings, traveler,” said the tall woman. “Have ye seen sign of the nefarious black dragon?”

Malcolm tapped a finger against his cheek, considering her.

“No,” he said. “I don’t mean this as an insult, but Fantasy would have made herself more attractive in her own illusionary world.”

The tall woman looked offended.

“Draw steel, fiend!” she shouted. “I will not stand idle by your insults!”

The elf girl’s flute tune took on a dramatic quality. Malcolm stepped past both of the illusions, moving forward swiftly, but also keeping in mind that he was still in the empty ballroom.

Don’t want to run too fast. It would be very easy to accidentally slam into a wall.

“Fantasy, come on,” said Malcolm. “Show yourself. Let’s settle this like adults.”

“And how, exactly, would adults settle this?”

Fantasy cartwheeled into view, completely naked, with regular sized flowers woven into her long, blonde braid. Malcolm blinked, unable to keep himself from staring at her. She had quite the body, and seemed eager to have him see it unclothed.

“We… should talk it out,” said Malcolm. “You can’t recruit Golden Joab over to Rain Dancer’s faction. My partner and I won’t allow it.”

Fantasy laughed.

“You’re so boring, Wind Runner,” she said. “I know that’s not what you really want to talk about.”

She drew in closer to him, covering her breasts with one arm for a second, and then letting it fall away. Her nipples were large and proportional, and far too easy to stare at.

“So, what?” said Malcolm. “You think you can seduce me?”

“I know I can seduce you,” said Fantasy. “It’s one of the easiest things for me to do with my powers.”

Malcolm saw movement out of the corner of his eye and flinched back. The tall, female knight from before had discarded most of her clothing, leaving only the chainmail vest over her chest. She was lying on the grass, her legs spread apart, using the hilt of her sword to pleasure herself.

Fantasy took advantage of the moment, sliding to press her body against Malcolm’s. He made a halfhearted attempt to push her back instead, stepping loose of her warm, soft embrace.

“I have a healthy appetite for men,” whispered Fantasy. “I used to be afraid of them, once upon a time. But now… I just can’t get enough. And I’d love to have you, Wind Runner.”

Malcolm glanced around. The knight woman was now letting out slow, seductive moans. The elf girl who’d been playing her flute was now a fully grown, elf woman, wearing thin shreds of leaf clothing and slowly dancing through the flowers with sensual movements.

“Let me out of this illusion, and then we’ll talk,” said Malcolm.

Fantasy laughed. She made as though to step toward him, before tripping in an exaggerated style and landing on her knees in front of him.

“Oh, how clumsy of me!” she cried. “Well… since I’m down here anyway…”

Her hands ran over Malcolm’s zipper. He was excited, though he didn’t want to be. He frowned down at her and pulled out of her reach.

“What’s… wrong with you?” asked Malcolm. “And why did you join up with Rain Dancer, anyway? You seemed more mild mannered when I first met you.”

Fantasy stood up and met his gaze, looking very amused and very naked.

“I’m not interested in being a loser, and anyone with eyes can see the way the tide is turning,” she said. “You champions were never able to control me, but other sprytes and demons, working together… perhaps they could. I don’t want to find out.”

“You don’t seem like the type to be easily controlled,” said Malcolm.

Fantasy smiled.

“I’m not,” she said. “At least, not anymore. But I was… I remember that much about the time before I got my powers.”

I guess stalling her is the next best thing to beating her, right?

“Tell me about it,” said Malcolm.

Fantasy blinked a couple of times. She was beautiful enough to make it easy to forget that she was the enemy. She turned around, and Malcolm admired the way her long, blonde braid stopped right at the outward curve of her buttocks.

“I was a result of emotionally fucked up girl bingo,” said Fantasy. “Rape. Abuse. Codependent. You name it, I was it. Just a pretty face, controlled and used by men.”

She was smiling when she spun around to look at him again, and it was genuine.

“Now…” she said. “With my abilities… I’m the one in control. Always.”

“So… I don’t really like the sound of that,” said Malcolm. “Maybe we should cut the illusion off here?”

Malcolm tried to step away from Fantasy. She waved a hand, and a half dozen of the tiny faeries floating through the air became full size, each of them turning into a beautiful, naked, winged woman.

“Blame Rose, not me,” said Fantasy, pressing into him. “She wouldn’t tell me about what you were like in bed. I knew right then and there… that I’d have to find out for myself.”

Fantasy undid the button and zipper of Malcolm’s dress pants. He tried to pull away from her again, but the tree flowers were penning them in. The naked faeries were dancing for him, and Fantasy’s hand slowly stroked up and down his hard girth.

“There we go…” whispered Fantasy. “Just lie down and let the sweet fantasy play out before your eyes.”

“You can’t fool me that easily,” said Malcolm. He grabbed onto Fantasy’s arm and gave it a squeeze.

A dragon was suddenly standing over both of them, thrusting its car sized head within fire breathing range of Malcolm’s face.

“Just lie down…” said the dragon. “And let the fantasy play out.”

Malcolm trembled. Knowing that it wasn’t real and believing that it wasn’t real were two different things. He couldn’t align his emotions with the fact that he knew that his senses were being fooled. Malcolm wasn’t sure when exactly he decided to lie down and play along, but the next thing he knew, Fantasy was straddling him, slowly lowering herself down onto his hard tool.

“See?” asked Fantasy. “Doesn’t that feel good?”

She dropped a little lower, impaling herself on Malcolm’s shaft. She felt hot and wet and soft, but he would never admit that to her.

“Yeah, I’m not sure this is working for me,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Fantasy grinned at him. She waved a hand through the air.

They were in a classroom, still engaged in coitus, but with a totally different theme. Malcolm was lying on top of the teacher’s desk. Fantasy was the blonde bombshell of a teacher, wearing a white blouse and a tight, black skirt as she rode him.

“Oh, young man!” moaned Fantasy. “You’ve gotten such good grades in my class! I hope this serves as a good reward…”

Malcolm let out a tiny moan. His hands slid across Fantasy’s buttocks, and he gave one of them a gentle grope. He was starting to enjoy it, even though he didn’t want to.

This brings a whole new dimension to the concept of role playing.

“I saw you staring at me in class,” said Fantasy, as she bounced up and down on his shaft. “All of the boys were… but especially you.”

Malcolm didn’t say anything. Fantasy pulled his hands up to her breasts, and he almost gasped when he felt how big and soft they were. He knew that there was at least one part of her body that was still impressive under the illusion.

Fantasy waved her hand again, and they were in the back of a police cruiser. Fantasy wore a police uniform, and Malcolm had an orange jumpsuit, unzipped down the middle.

“You have the right… to remain… silent,” moaned Fantasy. “Anything you say… or do… Oh…!”

The scene shifted again. They were in a strip club, and Malcolm was in the middle of getting a lap dance that had gone too far. This time, he couldn’t resist. He took Fantasy by the hips and began adding his strength to her movements, pulling her down on his shaft with raw, sexual aggression.

“Oh!” cried Fantasy. “Yes!”

Malcolm kissed one of her breasts, feeling its softness press against his face and cheek. Fantasy bounced faster and faster, both of them falling deep into the heat of the moment. He let out a groan as he reached his limit and unloaded. The pleasure hit him in a wave, followed by the question of how he’d gotten himself into the situation, and how the hell he was going to get himself out of it.

CHAPTER 21

Fantasy let her illusions drop as soon as they were finished. They were in the middle of the empty ballroom. The lighting was dim, and the air was a little musky. Malcolm carefully lifted her off him and set her aside. As he did it, he felt a familiar tingling sensation run up his hand.

I just absorbed her powers. That might come in handy.

Malcolm made sure he was decent and immediately started putting distance between himself and the spryte. Fantasy was lying on the ground, apparently contented by her after glow. She smiled at him and stood to her feet.

“I guess now I should probably kill you,” she said. “It’s a shame. Rose is clearly obsessed with you, and I can see why. She won’t be happy with me.”

“Hold on,” said Malcolm. He could hear something in the hallway outside, the sound of a scuffle.

“Sorry, but we’re past the point of you being able to buy yourself more time,” said Fantasy. “It’s been fun, Wind Runner, but now–”

The entrance doors slammed open, and Tapestry and Rose fell through it, the two of them engaged in a fierce fight. Tapestry had a hold on Rose’s arm, and was trying to wrestle her to the floor while dodging her shadow tendrils. Rose was twisting, kicking, and elbowing in an attempt to break free. They rolled together across the floor as a single unit. Malcolm hesitated.

Golden Joab is nowhere to be seen. There’s no reason for this fight to be taking place.

Calling the wind, he slammed down into both of the brawling women, disentangling them from each other. Rose was on her feet first, but Malcolm dropped down next to Tapestry, standing over her protectively. He frowned at Rose and gave his head a small shake.

“Enough,” he said. “The fight is over. Neither of us is going to get what we want.”

“Wind Runner!” snapped Tapestry. “We can take them!”

“And in the process of doing so, we’ll be waiting around for Hawktail security guards to show up and take control of the situation,” he said. “Now is not the time.”

“I don’t know…” said Fantasy. She looked at Rose and furrowed her brow. “Letting them go would be foolish.”

Rose was still clad in Fantasy’s illusion, her skin and eyes appearing like a regular human’s. Malcolm silently thanked Fantasy for that. Tapestry had seen Rose once before, in his apartment, and if she recognized her as the same spryte now, she would have another dot to connect to the rest of her suspicions about him.

“Golden Joab might still be nearby,” said Rose. “Our time would be better spent looking for him, rather than fighting with these two.”

She winked at Malcolm subtly, and he breathed a sigh of relief. If she’d felt like it, she could have brought up how she knew him, and easily turned Tapestry against him for good. Malcolm wasn’t sure why she hadn’t, and as thankful as he was, he couldn’t help but wonder about her motivations.

Now is not the time. Tapestry is liable to blow a gasket if we stay in their presence for much longer.

“Time to go,” he said. He took Tapestry by the arm and, using his powers, began wind running out of the ballroom. Tapestry struggled a little, not letting up until they were in the elevator and headed back up to their hotel room.

“What the heck is wrong with you?” she snapped.

Malcolm shrugged.

“I guess I don’t want to die?” he suggested. “I know, it’s truly a horrible character flaw.”

Tapestry sniffed a couple of times and literally turned up her nose.

“You smell like perfume again,” she said.

“You keep bringing that up like it should matter,” said Malcolm. “Our marriage is a ruse, Tapestry, why do you care?”

Tapestry rolled her eyes. The elevator stopped at their floor, and she took off down the hallway, leaving him to trail behind.

Malcolm entered their room to find her digging through her suitcase, pulling out her pistol along with several clips of ammo. He cautiously closed the door and crouched down next to her.

“You aren’t doing this,” he said. “They know we’re here now, Tapestry. They’ll see us coming.”

“This is an opportunity,” said Tapestry. “I don’t care that much about Golden Joab, Malcolm, but if we can take out two of Rain Dancer’s allies and deny him from recruiting one more, we can put serious pressure on him.”

She started to stand up. Malcolm grabbed her by the wrist.

“No,” he said, firmly.

Tapestry glared at him.

“Just whose side are you on, anyway?”

She shook his grip loose and stomped toward the door. Lacking any better options, Malcolm reached out with Fantasy’s power, trying to use an illusion in the same way she had.

This is… harder than she made it seem.

Tapestry stopped a foot from the door. Malcolm grimaced in concentration, using all his focus to will the room’s exit out of existence, replacing it with a smooth wall.

“What did you just do?” snapped Tapestry.

“I stole… the illusion spryte’s power,” he said. “And on top of that… I have an idea.”

Tapestry walked back over to him. She set the gun down on the night stand and crossed her arms.

“I’ll hear you out,” she said. “But if it’s no good, we go after those sprytes. Tonight, without any more waiting.”

“Why are you so blood thirsty?” asked Malcolm.

Tapestry’s scowl deepened.

“I think a better question is why you’re so insistent on us not fighting them,” she said. “How is this any different from us going after Rain Dancer? Or your brother?”

Malcolm tensed up at the mention of Danny. He looked at Tapestry, and could tell from her reaction that she already knew she’d made a mistake by bringing him up.

The only reason I fought against Danny was because he was hurting innocent people. And that’s also why I gave him that money…

“Maybe,” said Malcolm. “Just maybe… There’s a better approach than searching through a hotel, guns out, and starting a fight that could get innocent people hurt? Do you think that might be a possibility, Tapestry?”

She didn’t say anything. Malcolm picked up her pistol and made sure the safety was on.

“Golden Joab will be doing his performance tomorrow,” said Malcolm. “He still, in all likelihood, doesn’t know that we’re here. Or that the sprytes are here.”

“That’s an assumption,” said Tapestry.

“It’s a reasonably fair assumption,” said Malcolm. “If he knows, then he’s already fled from the hotel, probably. I think he’ll be there, tomorrow night, and we’ll have a chance to make contact with him.”

“You mean a chance to capture him,” said Tapestry. “That’s essentially what Savior sent us here to do.”

“Golden Joab only matters if he’s actually gifted,” said Malcolm. “If he’s just a regular magician, he’s no good to the Champion Authority or Rain Dancer.”

Tapestry nodded.

“So… how do we know for sure?” she asked.

“We’ll be in the audience,” said Malcolm. “And we’ll find out how he really does his tricks.”

“You think it’s going to be that simple?” asked Tapestry. “A world famous magician, and we’ll be able to just… figure out how he does his tricks.”

“He’ll pick a volunteer from the crowd at some point,” said Malcolm. “And we need to make sure that volunteer is you.”

Tapestry nodded slowly.

“The thing is,” continued Malcolm. “There’s going to be loads of attractive women in the audience. And plenty of them will probably, well, you know...”

“I know what?” asked Tapestry, in a sharp voice.

“They’ll have certain impressive assets...” Malcolm cupped his hands in front of his chest suggestively. He saw the look on Tapestry’s face and winced, knowing that he was digging his own grave. “Or, uh, I just mean you won’t be able to hold attention the same way they can…”

I think I just made it worse, if that was possible.

“You’d better be going somewhere with this,” said Tapestry, teeth gritted.

“Golden Joab, from what little I’ve seen of him, seems like the kind of guy who’d pick an attractive woman to be his volunteer,” said Malcolm, quickly. “Unless… there’s someone who took priority over even the hottest woman there. Someone who would immediately melt the hearts of the crowd and Golden Joab.”

Tapestry was clearly at the end of her patience. Malcolm held up a finger for her to hold on for just a little longer.

“So, this is where Fantasy’s power comes into play,” said Malcolm. “I’ll use it to disguise you as… a cancer patient.”

CHAPTER 22

“That is the stupidest thing I think I’ve ever heard,” said Tapestry.

Malcolm frowned.

I was sure that she’d go for it…

“What’s the issue?” asked Malcolm. “Sure, I’d have to make you look bald, from the chemo, but it would only be a temporary illusion.”

“Stop talking,” said Tapestry. “God, I forget how young you are, sometimes.”

Malcolm felt a little offended by that, but tried to play it off with a shrug.

“Fine,” said Malcolm. “And I suppose you have a better idea?”

Tapestry nodded.

“The simplest is usually the best plan,” she said. “All we need to do is show up, watch Golden Joab’s show, and wait.”

“That’s your plan?” asked Malcolm. “That’s… not even a plan!”

“Rain Dancer’s sprytes are probably working on their own convoluted scheme,” said Tapestry. “All we need to do is wait for them to make a move, and take advantage of whatever mistake they end up making.”

“You’re assuming they’ll be obvious about it.”

“They aren’t here to have a conversation with the man,” said Tapestry. “Based off what you’ve told me about Rain Dancer’s methods, they’ll be interested in trying to turn him into a monster.”

“Probably,” said Malcolm.

“So unless he’s onboard with that, he’s going to struggle,” said Tapestry. “We watch, we wait, and we swoop in and save the day.”

“That… actually sounds like it might work,” he admitted.

Tapestry smiled.

“I’ve learned a thing or two over the years,” she said.

Shortly after, the two of them turned in to bed. The night was uneventful, and Malcolm woke up the next morning feeling alert and ready for action. He took a shower, and spent most of the day working over the fine details of the streamlined plan with Tapestry.

They still needed Fantasy’s power, though only to disguise themselves enough to avoid being recognized by the sprytes. Malcolm made himself look older, adding wrinkles to his face and turning his hair grey.

He took his time with Tapestry, transforming her into a gorgeous redhead, and enhancing both the size of her bust and butt.

“This isn’t necessary, is it?” she asked him, eyeing her newly expanded cleavage with obvious skepticism.

“We have to make sure that we look different enough to slide under the radar,” said Malcolm.

Tapestry shook her chest from side to side, getting a sense of how her new boobs jiggled. Malcolm watched with wide eyes, unable to hide the glee in his eyes over his handiwork.

“Really?” asked Tapestry. “Big breasts have that much of an effect on you?”

“…Sorry, did you say something?”

Tapestry punched him on the arm.

“I couldn’t imagine trying to move and fight with this much extra weight on my chest,” she said.

Rose has pretty big breasts, and seems to make it work alright.

He almost said it out loud, only stopping himself at the last second. Thinking about Rose made him anxious, given what was to come that night. Tapestry would have her gun on her this time. What would Malcolm do if she took aim at Rose? Would he stop her from firing, even if it meant abandoning their mission?

He put the questions on the back burner, focusing his concentration on finishing the illusions, instead. It wasn’t hard to keep them active, though he could sense that his level of sophistication would be limited compared to what he’d seen of Fantasy’s work.

In fact, Malcolm doubted he could use the illusions for anything other than disguise, and possibly making a door or hallway disappear, if he put all his energy into it.

“We should get going,” said Tapestry. It was already late in the afternoon. They’d spent the entire day in their hotel room, taking both breakfast and lunch in their room.

“There’s still half an hour until the show starts,” said Malcolm.

“We want to get good seats,” said Tapestry. “Ones that will let us keep an eye on anyone suspicious, while still giving us mobility.”

The two of them took the elevator down to the lobby. Malcolm was a little struck by the looks Tapestry received from people on the way by, and from the look on her face, so was she.

“Did you really make me that much more attractive?” she whispered.

“I think it’s your… red hair,” said Malcolm.

Definitely the boobs.

Golden Joab’s show was being held in the Hawktail Theater. It was free admission, and people were already being let inside. Malcolm and Tapestry found their seats over on the right hand side of the aisle, close enough to get up on stage quickly, and angled so they could see most of the audience without much trouble.

“I think this is the first evening date I’ve taken you on,” said Malcolm.

Tapestry frowned at him.

“I know you’re joking, but just so you know, this definitely isn’t a date,” said Tapestry.

Malcolm made a show of shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“You’re just with me for my money,” he said. “What’s a poor old man like me to do?”

The crowd filed into the theater slowly, until almost all the seats were packed with people. It was impossible to even guess at who Rose and Fantasy might have disguised themselves as, but Malcolm tried to, anyway.

He went based off height, ruling out children and the unusually tall. He couldn’t just assume that the two sprytes were disguised as women, though it was tempting. There were so many potential suspects that he had to give up after only a couple of minutes.

“We’ll just have to watch Golden Joab,” said Malcolm. “And hope that they make the first move.”

“Trust me,” said Tapestry. “They will. We just have to wait and be patient.”

The audience finished taking their seats, and music began playing over the theater’s speakers as the lights dimmed. It was the same over the top techno song from the night before, only this time, accompanied by clouds of off smelling fake smoke coming from the stage.

“He’s been called many things over the course of his life,” boomed a voice. “Leader. Visionary. Role Model. Satanist. Suspect. Daddy… But tonight, you’ll be calling him WOW!”

The song reached the drop. Golden Joab appeared onstage, down on one knee in the smoke, slowly standing to his feet like a hero in an action movie. He held his arms out to the side, slowly dancing to the music with nebulous, uncoordinated movements.

The music stopped, and a spotlight snapped on over Golden Joab.

“Are you all ready to see some… magic?”

Cheers came from the crowd. Malcolm watched, amused and apprehensive.

CHAPTER 23

“Folks, I’ve been all over the country,” said Golden Joab. “I’ve learned the secrets of the best and boastiest magicians out there. But it wasn’t until I found myself… found the courage in my own big, bleeding, bloody, tortured heart… That I really started doing magic.”

He was wearing a black suit with a black bowtie, and took a moment to press his hand into his heart theatrically. When he pulled it back, his hand was covered in blood.

“Oh no,” said Golden Joab. “It looks as though you’ve caught me red handed, pouring my heart out. Or… have you?”

He spun in a circle. Smoke erupted from his feet. Malcolm could see him rushing to pull something out of his jacket as he turned.

When the smoke cleared, he showed the crowd his hand again. Most of the red was gone, but there were still a few dots of it near his wrist. The audience broke out into tepid applause.

“Thank you, thank you,” said Golden Joab, grinning. “But really, we’re just getting started. All you need to do is sit back, relax, and let my magic rock… your… world.”

He accentuated each of the last three syllables with a thrust of his crotch. Malcolm wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“This seems like the kind of magic show you’d put on, if you had the talent,” whispered Tapestry.

“That’s not even funny,” he replied.

“When were you born?” Golden Joab had moved onto his next joke, and was calling out into the crowd. “1986? How about you? 1997? Jesus you’re young! Let’s try one more… 1982, you said? Oh, well… if only we had a birthday cake for you!”

A quiet voice from the crowd responded with something about how they weren’t actually born on the current day in 1982, but Golden Joab was already back in flow. He slapped his hands together, grunted, and then revealed a mostly crumpled cupcake with a barely legible “1982” written on it with frosting.

“There you go,” said Golden Joab, throwing the cupcake into the crowd. “Magic!”

He moved through several other tricks, which went only slightly more smoothly than the first few. He made a deck of cards explode into flames, singeing the sleeve of his jacket in the process. He made a five-dollar bill appear out of thin air, followed by “making it rain” with more money from overhead, along with a wristwatch, for whatever reason.

“Now,” said Golden Joab. “Time to get into the… real magic.”

From the suitcase onstage next to him, he pulled out an oversized top hat. He turned it toward the crowd, making a show of it being empty, and then set it upside down on the ground, so he could reach into it.

“It’s totally empty, right?” asked Golden Joab. “Wrong! There’s something in this hat. Something that will make you question your sanity, and perhaps reality itself.”

He reached into the top hat, swirled his hand around momentarily, and pulled out a small, white rabbit.

“Where did the rabbit come from, is probably the question you’re asking yourself right now,” said Golden Joab. “A better question would be…”

He reached into the hat.

“…Where did the other rabbit come from?”

He pulled out another rabbit and lifted his eyebrows in triumph.

10 for the trick. 0 for originality.

“There must be something special about this hat, huh?” asked Golden Joab. “Perhaps I should… take a look inside, and see what it is?”

He grinned at the crowd and then leaned forward, lowering his head and most of his shoulders into the oversized hat. Malcolm expected him to pull something else out, but instead, he sank deeper into it, his feet disappearing past the brim as he moved fully out of sight of the crowd.

A couple of seconds went by. People started muttering in the audience. The door in the back of the theater opened, and the spotlight panned to illuminate the new arrival. Golden Joab pumped his fist in the air in triumph, and then bowed to the crowd.

“That was quite the trick,” whispered Tapestry.

Malcolm nodded slowly.

“I can’t help but feel that something seems off about this,” he said. “If he was really gifted, all of his tricks would have that same level of mystery to them.”

Golden Joab made his way back to the stage amid thunderous applause. He basked in it, grinning at the crowd and nodding. Finally, the theater quieted and the show continued.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Golden Joab. “You’re thinking, Joab, you just have an identical twin who also has a passion for magic! Well… that’s where you’re wrong. And to prove it, I’m going to make one of you… disappear!”

He gestured, throwing both hands to the side.

“I’ll need a volunteer, of course.”

At least a hundred hands shot up into the air instantly. Malcolm elbowed Tapestry until she sighed and put her hand up.

It’s worth a shot. If he does pick her, we might be able to do this easily.

“How about… you?” Golden Joab pointed to someone on the side of the crowd. “No, no, not you. Her.”

He pointed again, gesturing to a specific woman who stood up and looked around in surprise. The crowd cheered as the woman walked down the aisle. She was pretty, with Asiatic features and a surprisingly heavy amount of makeup. Malcolm frowned, a sudden thought taking hold in his head.

“If Golden Joab isn’t gifted,” he whispered. “Then he might have someone helping him, either backstage, or in the crowd.”

Tapestry raised an eyebrow.

“And you think that woman…?”

Malcolm examined her more closely.

“She’s wearing long sleeves, and a lot of makeup,” he said. “Contacts to change her eye color to go with it. It wouldn’t be that hard to make a spryte appear human.”

“How sure are you?” asked Tapestry.

“Not at all,” he said. “But it’s a… possibility.”

His mouth fell open as he looked back up at the stage. Golden Joab was in the middle of explaining the details of the trick, and the woman was standing next to him, looking attentive. Behind him, however, two familiar faces were walking out from backstage.

“Behind you!” shouted Malcolm. Golden Joab didn’t react in time, and Fantasy, clad in a pink t-shirt and yoga pants, managed to get an arm around his neck.

Rose pointed at the other woman and said something. The crowd burst into murmured conversation, nobody having any real sense of what was going on. Tapestry and Malcolm were already moving, pushing past the people seated next to them and then charging up the main aisle. Malcolm let his illusionary disguises drop, not needing them anymore.

“Show’s over, folks,” said Fantasy. “You can all go home now.”

When nobody moved, she sighed and waved a hand through the air. A massive dragon burst into existence in the auditorium, scaring the wits out of the crowd, which retreated in a massive wave of people.

Malcolm and Tapestry pulled themselves up on stage. Fantasy whirled to face them, still holding Golden Joab around the neck, now with a gun in one hand.

CHAPTER 24

For a few moments, nobody on stage did anything. The crowd was still in the process of filing out of the auditorium, and all six participants in the standoff were content to eye each other warily. As soon as most of the audience was gone, Malcolm made the first move, stepping forward and jabbing a finger at Fantasy.

“Let him go,” he said. “This is ridiculous. He’s just a magician.”

“He might be,” said Fantasy. “But… we’re acting on information related to her. The anonymous crowd member, more commonly known in the monster scene as Jade Portal.”

“Jade…” said Golden Joab, clearing his throat nervously. “Do you mind… getting me out of here?”

The woman, who was apparently a spryte, looked from person to person, trying to judge if she was about to be attacked. She closed her eyes for a split second and a green portal appeared in front of her.

It looked like someone had taken a bright green light and used it to illuminate water from underneath. The surface of the portal wavered, making a slight, humming noise. It had no thickness, and as Malcolm took a step to observe it from the side, it disappeared from his point of view.

“Jade!” shouted Golden Joab. Jade dove through her portal, disappearing from the stage. Rose tried to follow after her, but the portal disappeared a second after Jade had gone through it. She frowned, bringing her hand to her mouth and looking thoughtful.

“Well,” said Rose. “This could be interesting.”

“We have her boyfriend,” said Fantasy. “We can just threaten him until he cooperates.”

“Have you forgotten about us already?” asked Malcolm. “We aren’t going to let you touch a hair on that man’s head.”

Fantasy made a show of plucking one of Golden Joab’s hairs free from his man bun.

“I don’t think he… meant that literally,” said Golden Joab. “Just that, you know… you probably shouldn’t kill me. Please?”

Tapestry had her gun pointed at Fantasy’s head. Malcolm was reasonably sure that she would have taken the shot, if not for Fantasy having a gun herself.

“We’re just here to speak with the spryte,” said Rose. “Jade Portal, just come out and talk with us for a bit? We have an offer to make, and we’d like you to hear us out.”

“The two of you certainly have an interesting way of presenting your offer,” said Malcolm. “Remind me to never open my door if you show up selling something.”

Rose’s lips turned up into a small smile, which she quickly suppressed. She was in jeans and a brown leather jacket. Malcolm wasn’t sure if she had a gun on her, like Fantasy, but then again, she didn’t really need one, with her powers.

“Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “I’ll keep an eye on Golden Joab and the kidnapper. You go after that one.”

“Uh…” He shrugged. “Sure thing.”

Rose had an amused expression on her face as Malcolm turned to face her. There was enough room on the stage for them to circle around each other without getting in the way of the hostage situation. Rose licked her lips and waved a hand at him.

“Well,” she said. “Are you going to attack me?”

“Ladies first,” said Malcolm. “Come on. Show me what you got.”

The smile on Rose’s face wasn’t exactly reassuring, but Malcolm still found himself getting a little excited as he watched her. They’d fought before, and she’d made it clear that she could beat him in a battle if it came down to the pure strength of her powers.

But this is a different situation. And I don’t have to win, just distract her for long enough for Tapestry to get Golden Joab free.

Malcolm summoned the wind, swirling it around himself and waiting for Rose to make her move. The theater was still sparsely illuminated outside of the stage, and she summoned her shadow tendrils from several different directions.

Malcolm managed to dodge the first one, using the wind to throw himself forward into a dive roll. He came up within striking range of Rose. His gaze met hers, and instead of attacking… he hesitated.

He realized that he had no interest in hurting her. She was on the other side, but she wasn’t his enemy. Rose seemed to be having a similar dilemma, pulling back one of her shadow tendrils just as it came with inches of him.

A gunshot rang out. Malcolm glanced over at the others. Fantasy had her gun pointed at Tapestry, and Tapestry was holding her shoulder with one hand, still managing to keep her own weapon trained on the spryte.

“Stay back!” shouted Fantasy.

Rose seemed to come to a decision. She threw herself forward, tackling Malcolm off the stage. Malcolm reflexively cushioned their fall with the wind. He dodged a shadow tendril as they landed in the space in front of the first row of seats, rolling and trying to pin Rose underneath him.

“She’s not going to join up with you!” he hissed, keeping his voice low. “Not if it requires you to take a hostage to get her to cooperate.”

“It wasn’t exactly my idea!” replied Rose. “But don’t think for a second that I’m going to let you and your blonde girlfriend kill a spryte, just for existing.”

Malcolm managed to pin one of her arms. A shadow tendril cuffed him across the shoulder as he struggled to get a hold on the other. He pushed Rose flat against the ground with the wind. She wrapped her legs around him, the two of them coming into even closer contact as they writhed for supremacy. Rose let out a high-pitched groan, and Malcolm grunted as he tried to physically dominate her.

Uh-oh. This… could get weird.

Rose kissed him. It caught Malcolm so off guard that he did the only thing that seemed logical, and kissed her back. They were out of view of Fantasy and Tapestry on stage, and for a couple of heated, passionate seconds, their struggle turned sexual.

Malcolm felt Rose bite his lip as he pulled back. He had hold of both of her wrists now, and gave them a small squeeze. Rose glared at him, wrapping a shadow tendril around his neck, but making no move to tighten it and suffocate him.

“You’re an idiot, Malcolm,” whispered Rose. “The only reason you’re siding with the champions is because they found you first. You’re a stubborn idiot.”

“And you’re following the orders of a killer,” said Malcolm. “Does he just send you to recruit for him, Rose? Or did he finally break down your resolve and get you to be one of his leg spreading sycophants?”

He was surprised by his own sudden anger and jealousy. Rain Dancer had been obvious with his leering and flirtation toward Rose back when Malcolm had been imprisoned in their underground base. But she’d rebuffed him. Of course, that was before he’d left.

“You’re an idiot,” said Rose. “You really think that little of me, that I’d just… hop into bed with anyone?”

She twisted, managing to get her hand free and elbow him in the side of the face. Malcolm tried to get her pinned again, but she slid out from under him, pushing him back with her shadows.

“Rose…” said Malcolm, taking a step toward her.

“Malcolm…” said Rose. “You’re making a choice right now. You’re choosing to be my enemy.”

“Right back at you.” He smiled, though on the inside, his heart was hurting. “It doesn’t have to be this way, you know…”

“Malcolm!” shouted Tapestry. “Get up here! Now!”

“Yeah,” said Rose. “It does.”

She shot her shadow tendrils out at him. Malcolm moved fast, jumping into the air and using his wind manipulation to maneuver up and around them. He landed back on stage in time to see Jade Portal rushing toward Fantasy and Golden Joab.

Fantasy aimed her pistol at Jade, but didn’t fire. Jade slammed her shoulder into Fantasy and her hostage, knocking them loose. She closed her eyes for an instant and created a portal, which she immediately started pulling Golden Joab toward.

“No!” shouted Tapestry. Malcolm fell into step alongside her, using the wind to push both of them in a mad dash toward Jade and Golden Joab.

Tapestry tackled Golden Joab. Malcolm slammed into Jade. All four of them went through the new portal she’d created.

CHAPTER 25

Malcolm landed on top of Jade in the shadow of a massive sand dune. She tried to slap him, but he caught her hand. In the instant that he held it, he felt a tingle, and knew that he’d just absorbed her power.

The portal was still open. Golden Joab had broken loose from Tapestry and was backing toward it. Several shadow tendrils slipped out through the portal, like weighted fishing lines slipping underwater. Malcolm gave a wordless shout, but not in time to stop Golden Joab from being pulled back through by Rose.

“Damn it!” he shouted. Tapestry was slowly pulling herself to her feet. Malcolm looked around, seeing nothing but sun heated dunes and desert in all directions.

If the sun is out here, we must be on the other side of the world. Seriously?

He stood up, pulling himself off Jade. Immediately, he realized his mistake. She created another portal and rolled through it faster than Malcolm could grab her. The portal disappeared behind her, and the first one was gone, too.

“What… just happened?” asked Tapestry.

Malcolm sat down in the sand. He let his hand rest on it for a second, pulling it back almost instantly. The sand was ridiculously hot, as was the air, hot enough to make the air shimmer in the distance.

“I think we lost that round,” said Malcolm. Tapestry scowled and made a frustrated noise.

“How the heck are we going to get out of here?” she asked.

Malcolm wiped sweat from his forehead. He took off his heavy suit coat, still feeling ridiculously hot even with it off.

“We can get back,” he said. “I absorbed Jade Portal’s power. I just need to figure out how to use it.”

“Can you please hurry?” Tapestry let out a groan. “I can’t take this heat.”

“I’ll try,” he said.

It was harder than Jade Portal had made it look. Malcolm spent a couple of minutes trying to feel for the new power, but it just wasn’t there. It reminded him of when he’d copied Savior’s power, the mechanism of how to make it work hidden from his own awareness.

“Malcolm…” Tapestry was suffering in the heat. There was nothing around them other than dunes, and it only took a couple of minutes for both of them to realize that they would die within a few hours if they didn’t get out of there.

“I’m trying,” he said. “I don’t understand it. I know I absorbed her power, but I just… can’t feel it in me.”

“I can’t take this heat,” said Tapestry. “That’s it. I’m taking my dress off.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Malcolm glanced up at the sun. “The only thing worse than being hot in this kind of weather is getting a sunburn.”

“Are you trying to convince me to keep my clothes on, for once?”

She makes a good point…

Malcolm watched as she slipped out of her dress, keeping her high heels on and looking a little silly in just them and her underwear. She walked over to him, spread it out on the sand, and sat on top of it, her body glistening with sweat.

“Focus, Malcolm,” she said.

“Sorry.” He took a deep breath, and tried again to conjure a portal into existence. Nothing happened.

“We’ll be lucky if we even survive, at this point,” muttered Tapestry. “Jade Portal and Golden Joab will be long gone by the time we get back.”

“Not necessarily,” said Malcolm. “Rose and Fantasy grabbed Joab as their hostage again. If they manage to hold out for long enough, the fight might still be ongoing when we get back.”

Tapestry frowned at him.

“How do you know their names?” she asked.

“Uh…” He shrugged. “That’s what they were calling each other. I just overheard them.”

She let it drop, probably for the sake of letting him concentrate. Malcolm sighed. He closed his eyes and tried one more time. Tapestry made a surprised noise.

“You did it!” she said. “Alright! Phew, I was starting panic, to tell you the truth.”

“Uh…” Malcolm shrugged. “I guess I did? It seems like I just… have to have my eyes closed for it work.”

Tapestry stepped toward the portal. Malcolm reached out and grabbed her arm.

“I’m not… positive where this portal leads,” he said.

“Probably to wherever you were just picturing,” said Tapestry. “The casino, right?”

“Yeah, but…” He stepped forward, stepping up to the edge of the portal. The surface of it was shimmering, wavering green, and showing nothing of what lay beyond it. He pushed his head through.

The portal had appeared several hundred feet in the air, giving them a view of the casino from half a mile or so away. Malcolm had been picturing the casino, as portrayed on the tourism pamphlet.

“Hold on,” he said. “Let me–”

“Whoops!” Tapestry took a wrong step in her high heels crashing into Malcolm from behind and knocking them both through the portal.

Why does something always have to go wrong?

Tapestry screamed as she fell, still clad only in her bra and panties. Malcolm called for the wind as soon as he had the mind to, pushing himself toward her with all the speed he could. He grabbed onto her, feeling her legs wrap around him as he held her tight.

“Hold on!” he shouted.

His manipulation wasn’t quite strong enough to let him fly easily, even on his own. With Tapestry in tow, it was barely enough to slow their fall. They hurtled toward the ground at too fast of a speed for a safe landing. Tapestry fingernails dug into his back in terror.

“Why are we still falling?” she shouted.

“I don’t know,” said Malcolm. “How much to do you weigh?”

“Malcolm!”

He gritted his teeth and put more focus into using his power. A part of him was thrilled by the need to push his wind manipulation to its limit. Malcolm felt a rush of excited glee at the sensation, which was only amplified by Tapestry’s mostly naked body clinging to the front of him.

“Think we have time to join the mile-high club?” Malcolm laughed. “Or… two hundred feet high club?”

Slowly, their speed of descent leveled off, until they were falling like two tangled feathers. Malcolm rolled so Tapestry was on top of him. He met her eyes for a moment, seeing both her fear and excitement. He cupped her cheek and gave her a deep, passionate kiss.

Tapestry pulled back at the end of it, shaking her head.

“I’ll let that slide,” she said, sternly. “You need to calm down as soon as we hit the ground.”

“I can think of a few things that would help me.” Malcolm reached his hand up to her cheek again, but she gently slapped it away.

They touched down alongside the road to the casino. Malcolm didn’t have his suit jacket to offer, but did have his dress shirt. He took it off, feeling slightly trashy in his sleeveless undershirt and dress pants. Tapestry pulled on the shirt he offered her, looking a bit like a half-naked secretary after a session of afternoon delight.

“We don’t have any time to waste,” she said. “Can you use a portal to get us back into the theater?”

“You’re barely even dressed,” he said. “Maybe we should regroup?”

“We don’t have time!” snapped Tapestry. “Can you, or can’t you?”

“I think so,” said Malcolm. “But that’s assuming that Golden Joab and the sprytes are still there.”

“It’s worth a shot,” said Tapestry.

Malcolm nodded. He closed his eyes, pictured where they’d been sitting in the theater, and created another portal.

CHAPTER 26

The two of them stepped out into the theater, and into a scene that was almost unchanged from when they’d left it before. Fantasy and Rose had Golden Joab under guard on stage. From the wariness in their expressions, they were still in the middle of a fight, though Jade Portal was nowhere to be seen.

Fantasy immediately opened fire on Malcolm and Tapestry. The two ducked behind the row of seats in front of them, staying low and out of the path of the bullets.

“I’ll distract these two,” said Tapestry. “See if you can get behind them.”

“It’s too dangerous,” said Malcolm.

“Not for you!” she hissed. “Use a portal, stupid.”

“Hey,” said Malcolm. “Easy with the name calling, you big meanie.”

He pictured what he’d seen of the backstage area and made a portal on the floor. Malcolm rolled through it, immediately coming out on stage, just behind Rose and Fantasy.

He was about to tackle Fantasy and get the gun out of her hand when something hit him hard from the side. Malcolm had just enough time to get a glimpse of Jade Portal before being knocked through, unsurprisingly, another portal.

Water immediately soaked his clothes, and only a split second of hesitation kept him from reflexively trying to take a breath. He was underwater, deep enough under for only hints of light to be making it down to him.

Is this how she’s going to try to fight me?

Malcolm closed his eyes, knowing that he only had one shot at making a portal to get back. His lungs were burning by the time he’d pictured the scene of the theater and conjured it up. He swam forward and a little down to go through it.

He fell back onto the stage in a wet heap, feeling like a nearly drowned rat. Jade Portal fell upon him in an instant, fumbling to get an arm around his neck. Malcolm rolled, letting her hold onto him and getting a grip of his own. Another portal burst into existence, and both of them tumbled through it… into the freezing cold.

They were in a polar climate this time. Malcolm screamed the instant he felt the biting touch of the cold against his soaking wet skin. Jade Portal tried to draw back from him, and discovered that she couldn’t. The water drenching Malcolm’s clothes was enough to freeze the two of them together at the points where they’d been in contact.

“Brilliant move!” coughed Malcolm. He made a portal of his own and tipped the two of them through it.

They came out on the other side in the park across the street from Malcolm’s apartment, still frozen together. Malcolm slammed his knee up into Jade Portal’s hip, wincing at the feminine sound of pain she let out.

“Sorry, but until you get up, I’m authorized to attack you,” he muttered. “Even if you’re a woman.”

Jade Portal responded with an elbow of her own, finally managing to twist loose of the ice bond between them. She took a step back and charged at Malcolm. He realized, too late, that she’d created another portal behind them.

They fell through it, and into the open air. Malcolm, twisted, seeing skyscrapers on either side of him and pedestrians the relative size of ants walking below. He frowned, realizing that Jade Portal hadn’t thought through her attack very well.

She thinks this is an easy way to kill me. Teleport in, drop me off, teleport away.

Malcolm called the wind to him, pushing himself toward Jade Portal. He managed to close the distance between them just as she made her escape portal, and tumbled through it with her, back into the Hawktail Theater. He realized that he knew what her weakness was, and smiled to himself.

“Consider that a warning!” yelled Tapestry.

She’d wrested Golden Joab away from Fantasy and apparently shot her in the arm, in the process. Malcolm frowned, not wishing for violence on either side of the fight. Rose was at Fantasy’s side, whispering something into her ear. After a moment, both of them retreated, disappearing through one of the theater’s side doors.

“Wind Runner!” shouted Tapestry. “Go after them!”

“And give up the spryte we came here for?” asked Malcolm, gesturing to Jade Portal’s arm and the hold he had on it. “No, we can let them go for now.”

Tapestry scowled, but didn’t object. She had her gun pointed at Golden Joab. Jade Portal seemed to be thinking about something. Malcolm glared at her.

“Tapestry,” he said. “If Jade Portal blinks, or closes her eyes, shoot the magician.”

Jade Portal tensed up. She nervously looked over at Golden Joab, hope draining from her expression.

“That’s her weakness?” asked Tapestry.

“Functional weakness,” said Malcolm. “But yes.”

Tapestry grinned at him.

“We’ve got her,” she said. “Good work, Wind Runner. Let’s call Savior and give him a full–”

“I’ll give you what you want!” cried Golden Joab. “Please… We can get money for you. Or help in other ways? I’m a licensed magician in most countries in the world.”

“It’s not happening, man,” said Malcolm.

“I don’t care about myself!” cried Golden Joab. “Just please… don’t hurt my family.”

“She’s a spryte,” said Malcolm. “And she clearly has a power that could be dangerous.”

“But you don’t know if the child will be!” Golden Joab’s voice took on an angry tone. “You don’t know anything!”

“The… child?”

“She’s pregnant,” said Joab. “Jade is pregnant… with my child.”

A pregnant spryte. Can I justify turning her over to the Champion Authority, knowing that?

“Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “I don’t like the look of your eyes right now.”

“Please,” said Joab. “You’ll never hear from us again. We’ll live a quiet life. You can say you killed her, through the portal! Somewhere where people would never check, in the desert.”

“Damn it,” muttered Malcolm. “Man…”

“Malcolm!” Tapestry walked over to him, her expression hard. “You’d better not be thinking about doing what I think you’re thinking about doing.”

He shrugged.

“They would never be able to hold her, anyway, Tapestry,” he said. “She can make portals. What sort of holding cell would they be able to build for her?”

“The Champion Authority could keep her asleep, or drugged,” she suggested.

“And that’s what we’re going to inflict on a pregnant woman?” asked Malcolm. “No. Sorry, I can’t do it.”

Tapestry’s eyes narrowed into a glare full of anger, resentment, and a keen sense of betrayal. Malcolm couldn’t blame her, but he also knew that he was making the right choice.

“Every time I give you a chance to earn my trust…” whispered Tapestry. “You throw it in my face. I don’t even know why I try with you anymore, Malcolm.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

He let go of Jade Portal’s arm and waved his hand toward Golden Joab.

“Go,” said Malcolm. “I don’t want to see either of you again. You’ll have to start new lives.”

“Thank you!” cried Golden Joab. “God bless you, kind sir! We’ll never forget this!”

He gave Jade Portal a tight hug, and then the two of them disappeared through a portal. Malcolm looked over at Tapestry, but she said nothing to him, her mouth tight with disapproval.

CHAPTER 27

Malcolm continued to use his portal power liberally, for the next few minutes. He teleported them back to their hotel room, selling it to Tapestry as being better than making her walk through the lobby with no pants.

The two of them gathered their luggage, and Tapestry changed into fresh clothes. Malcolm insisted on bringing them back to Vanderbrook through a portal, under the pretense that it would be faster and that Savior needed to hear the news of their failure immediately.

“And what about my car?” asked Tapestry. “Am I just supposed to leave it here?”

“We’ll send Wax to pick it up,” said Malcolm.

He made another portal, linking their hotel room with his apartment. Tapestry was looking at him disapprovingly as they stepped out into his living room. He realized that he had a maniacal grin on his face.

“You aren’t keeping her powers,” she said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“What?” Malcolm shook his head vigorously. “You can’t be serious! This is the coolest power I’ve ever borrowed from someone.”

“You’re already using it too much,” said Tapestry. “You’ll start making portals everywhere if you have the ability.”

“That’s… not necessarily true.”

Probably better not to tell her that I was considering trying to make a portal from my bed to the toilet, for the purposes of late night peeing.

“Take my power instead.” Tapestry held out her hand.

“Come on, don’t do this again,” said Malcolm. “Tapestry, you’re being–”

She slapped him, hard and directly across the face. Malcolm fell back a step, stunned by her sudden intensity. Her face was set into an icy expression, and she slowly shook her head.

“Malcolm,” she said, softly. “You’re on the verge of losing my trust, and my friendship, completely. For both our sakes… quit pushing it.”

Malcolm hesitated, pushing down his first response instead of starting an argument with her.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “You’re right.”

He took her hand into his, feeling the tingle of taking a power after only a second. He kept holding Tapestry’s hand for a few moments longer, giving it a small squeeze before finally letting go.

He had a question to ask her, but wasn’t sure how to put it into words. Tapestry was looking right at him, staring into his face intently.

“Have you ever thought about retiring?” he asked.

Tapestry let out a small chuckle. Malcolm felt grateful that if nothing else, he’d broken through the tension.

“I’ve already lived what most people would consider to be an entire life,” said Tapestry. “I thought that I was retired, or at least the housewife equivalent of it, for a good twenty years.”

“You know what I mean,” said Malcolm. “The Champion Authority, this life of chasing and fighting people. Having to… make hard decisions.”

“Not everyone is like you, Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “I wouldn’t have let Jade Portal go, if I’d been the only one there. And I probably would have finished the job with those two sprytes. They are Rain Dancer’s lackeys, after all.”

She checked the safety on her gun and then slipped it into the holster underneath the sweatshirt she had on.

“I just can’t see it like that,” said Malcolm. “It’s not black and white to me.”

“Maybe you’re the one who needs to consider retiring, then,” said Tapestry. “You could always ask Savior to give you a desk job somewhere.”

“And leave you to defend Vanderbrook on your own?” Malcolm shook his head. “Not happening.”

“If that’s the case,” said Tapestry. “Then you need to make a choice. Having resolve in this line of work doesn’t mean cultivating some secret kernel of moral wisdom that nobody else does. It’s just about doing what you’re told.”

Maybe it can be that simple for her, but that’s not enough for me.

“Anyway,” continued Tapestry. “We should get moving. Savior’s going to want us to check in with him as soon as possible.”

“Right.” Malcolm glanced out the window at the empty street outside his apartment. “We’re going to have to walk, given that the buses aren’t running this late. Still think it was a good idea to make me give up the portals?”

She rolled her eyes at him on her way to the door.

The walk took a little over an hour, but the weather was fair, and the moon was out. Tapestry let out a sigh of relief as they walked up her porch steps. She opened the door and froze suddenly enough to cause Malcolm to walk into her back.

“What… the hell?” she said, her voice tight with shock.

“Oh, hey Tapestry,” said Savior. “How goes the mission?”

Tapestry’s living room looked different. The couch and TV had been moved to one corner. Melanie was, unsurprisingly, currently curled up on it with a controller in hand. In the center of the room now sat a ping pong table. Savior and Wax were engaged in a casual game, knocking the white ball back and forth with measured strikes.

“He bought a ping pong table,” offered Wax.

“No need to state the obvious,” said Malcolm. He put an arm around Tapestry’s shoulder. “You want to be my double’s partner?”

“This… isn’t staying,” said Tapestry.

“I think it adds to the Feng Shui of the space,” said Savior. “Besides, ping pong is very good for hand-eye coordination, a critical skill for a champion.”

He brought his paddle down in a hard smash, punishing Wax for playing a shot that bounced too high.

“Melanie,” said Tapestry. “Why did you let them do this?”

“Uh…” Melanie shrugged, her focus entirely on the TV and PS4. “I dunno.”

Her personality has taken a complete 180 since she started gaming…

“But truly, it is good to see the two of you!” said Savior. “Here, let us sit and talk for a bit. I want to hear all about your honeymoon.”

Malcolm chuckled. He looked to Tapestry and saw her face redden and her hands clench into fists.

“We have to tell you what happened with Golden Joab,” he said, deciding it was best to ignore Savior’s question.

Savior’s smile turned frosty.

“No need,” he said. “Melanie, might we turn the news back on, for just a minute.”

Melanie didn’t respond. Wax walked over to the TV and switched the input, which seemed to de-zombify her. She blinked her eyes, only then seeming to notice and understand that Tapestry and Malcolm had returned.

“Hey,” she said. “How was the trip? I’m so glad the two of you are back safe and sound! It was so weird around here without you, Aubrey. Savior is a total lunatic, and Wax can only do so much to keep his crazy ideas in check. We have a ping pong table here now, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I noticed,” said Tapestry. “What exactly did you want us to see, Savior?”

He pointed to the TV, which was just coming back to news after a commercial break. Malcolm stared at it in disbelief. The voice of a female news anchor spoke over an aerial shot of the Hawktail Casino.

“The robbery is currently estimated at just short of ten million dollars,” said the anchor. “The casino management say that it was first noticed after a disturbance in the theater during a show by the magician, Golden Joab. Police have yet to release any information pertaining to potential suspects.”

“According to an internal source within the department, security footage of the incident has proven to be inconclusive,” said the voice of a male anchor. “Authorities are still unsure of how the perpetrator infiltrated the vault without setting off any of the many alarm systems on the door.”

Savior crossed his arms and looked squarely at Malcolm and Tapestry.

“So,” he said. “How did the mission turn out? I’m assuming you can fill in a few more pieces of this jigsaw puzzle, can you not?”

Tapestry glared at Malcolm with the intensity of a dying sun. He shook his head slowly and shrugged.

“He was working with a spryte who called herself Jade Portal. She can, well, create portals.” Malcom could feel all of the eyes on him narrowing. “She was pregnant. There was no way for us to capture her, with her power, and I couldn’t justify killing a pregnant woman, just for the sake of convenience.”

“You know, we’ve done studies at the Champion Authority,” said Savior in a suddenly deathly serious tone. “Close to ninety five percent of all monsters are infertile.”

Malcolm ran a hand through his hair, feeling incredibly stupid.

I just took his word on it. He would have said anything to get away. And with all that money…

“I am not happy, Cutter,” said Savior. “In fact, I’m the opposite of happy. You are gullible with a capital G. Taking a monster at their word… No, that’s gullible in all caps!”

“I messed up,” said Malcolm. “I don’t know what else to say.”

Tapestry walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, probably to vent her frustration on a batch of cookies. Malcolm stepped over to the wall and leaned against it. Savior followed him, drawing in close, and speaking in a low voice.

“You asked me about something the other night, at the tavern,” said Savior. “Something that you wanted, as a favor from me.”

The pardon. That’s off the table now, given how badly I’ve messed up.

“The next time I give you an order,” Savior said, carefully. “Will you follow it through?”

Malcolm nodded.

“Of course,” he said. “I botched the job this time. I wasn’t… thinking clearly, I guess.”

Malcolm expected anger, or at least a stern rebuke. Instead, Savior just clapped him on the shoulder and smiled.

“That’s good enough.” Savior took a breath, looking suddenly much older, and very tired. “It’s hard job, Cutter. I know. I’ve been doing it for a lot longer than you have.”

He held Malcolm’s gaze for a couple of seconds. Malcolm felt a sudden, fierce sense of loyalty, both to the Champion Authority, and to Savior. Savior pulled away after a couple of seconds and picked up his ping pong paddle.

“Come on, Wax,” he said. “One more round.”

CHAPTER 28

Malcolm returned to his own apartment to sleep that night, using his wind manipulation to get there in a series of gliding leaps. He woke up early, showered, dressed, and immediately headed back to Tapestry’s to report in.

The ping pong table had been moved outside onto the grass. Savior was engaged in a heated, super powered match against Wax, and at least a few of the normal rules had been thrown out. Wax slammed the tiny white ball over the table and Savior’s head. Savior took flight, soaring up and around it for his return shot.

Wax missed, and Savior pumped his fist in the air in celebration. He turned and gave Malcolm a wave as he saw him walking over.

“Cutter,” he said. “Finally, a worthy opponent. Wax, give him your paddle. This could get interesting.”

“Uh, actually, I just came to see what was on the agenda for today,” said Malcolm. “If there isn’t anything related to Champion Authority work, I should probably check in with Tapestry.”

“She’s at the market with Melanie,” said Savior. “Practically dragged her out of the house. Not a big fan of how often her little sister has been playing those darn video games, I don’t think.”

Little sister… I guess nobody has corrected him yet.

“Alright,” said Malcolm. “Well, in that case…”

“I do have something for you.” Savior set his paddle down, and grew serious. “It’s a chance for you to redeem yourself after what happened at the casino.”

Malcolm nodded.

“A chance to redeem myself,” he said. “Alright. What does it entail?”

“Killing the monster that used to be Bradley Rogers,” said Savior. “I believe you knew him by the name Melt?”

Malcolm felt a chill run down his spine. Melt had been a field champion, more of a coworker than a friend, but someone Malcolm had known personally. He’d been there when Melt had turned into a demon.

It was at least partially my fault. I stopped him from fighting Rose, and pushed him over the edge.

“You want me… to kill Melt?” Malcolm asked, slowly.

Savior nodded, his expression unchanged.

“Yes.” He held out his hand, palm up. “If you can’t, then I’m afraid we’re going to have to find a different role for you, going forward. Something more… behind the scenes.”

Malcolm winced. The idea of having to kill someone he’d known, regardless of whether they were a monster, made his stomach feel queasy. He didn’t feel like he had it in him, like it was something he’d be able to pull the trigger on. But was there any other choice?

“I’ll do it,” he said. The words came out less confident than he’d intended, but there was nothing he could do about that.

“Good,” said Savior. “He’s been spotted in the abandoned campground south of Vanderbrook. One of the reasons why I’m asking you is your ability to get there quickly with your powers.”

“You could get there just as quickly as I could,” said Malcolm.

“The other reason…” said Savior. “Is so you can prove to me that you’re still trustworthy.”

Malcolm nodded.

“I figured as much,” he said.

Savior eyed him for a moment, as though considering whether Malcolm would be up to the task.

“I like you, Cutter,” said Savior. “I think… You have a similar outlook to mine, in a lot of ways. If you succeed here, you could go far in the Champion Authority. You could have the power, perhaps, to one day influence policy in our organization.”

The words were exactly what Malcolm needed to hear. He suspected that Savior was exaggerating his potential slightly, but it didn’t matter. It was the big picture that mattered to him, the idea of one day being able to free himself and other champions from the burden of having to kill sprytes and demons for no good reason.

One day… But obviously, not today.

“I’ll do it,” he said, this time with confidence.

“Good,” said Savior. He passed Malcolm a slip of paper. “Here’s the address, though it shouldn’t be too hard to find if you just keep heading south.”

CHAPTER 29

Malcolm left immediately. He used his wind manipulation to travel, launching himself upward with a few brief, powerful bursts of air, and then gliding forward, starting the process over again once he’d lost enough height. He tried to limit his usage of his powers as much as he could, more aware than ever of how easily he could end up in the same position as Melt.

His doubts stayed with him, even as he made it past the southern edge of Vanderbrook and into the more rural areas outside of town. What was he supposed to say to Melt before killing him? Would it be better to stay silent? To press on with the attack, and just get it over with as fast as he could?

I’m thinking about killing someone as though I’m cleaning a dirty bathroom. Can I really do this?

He wondered if Savior was expecting him to fail. Perhaps it wasn’t about Malcolm proving to him that he was capable and committed, but rather, confirming that he actually wasn’t. If he let Melt escape, or worse, died fighting him, Savior wouldn’t have to spend time wondering if one of his new champions was worth trusting.

Malcolm landed about a mile out from the summer camp, not wanting to give away his presence by making a grand entrance. It was on the shores of a small lake that the brook from which Vanderbrook took its name fed into. The surrounding forest gave him plenty of cover as he approached, and Malcolm used the wind to cushion his steps and keep from making too much noise on the leaves and fallen branches.

Fifteen minutes later, he approached the first of the summer camp’s buildings, a small, open faced wooden shelter. He leaned up against the side of it, closing his eyes and listening to the wind.

By focusing hard enough, Malcolm could use his wind manipulation to extend the range of his hearing. It was a simple enough thing to do, but only when he could get himself in the right state of mind for it to work. Wind listening was a little like mediation, and at times, he found it frustratingly elusive to achieve.

He had trouble with it this time, finding it hard to clear his head of thoughts about what would happen once he found Melt. It wasn’t just about having the nerve required to kill him. Malcolm would have to defeat a demon in a fight, one with powers that would probably be more effective against him than his were against Melt’s.

I should have brought a gun…

A sound came from further into the summer camp, just beyond another building to the south. Malcolm crouched low, taking careful steps up to the corner of the building and crouched down just beyond the edge of the building. He peered around the corner, scanning the area for any sign of Melt.

He risked sneaking to the next structure, again cushioning his steps as he went. It was a lean-to, and a few dozen beer cans were scattered around the inside of it.

Malcolm heard the sound again. He was sure of where it was, now. He waited, wondering if the best move would be to stay hidden and hope to get the drop on Melt as soon as he revealed himself. A few minutes went by, long enough for the tension and pressure of the moment to start to get to him.

The sound came again, almost at the exact same pitch and volume, and then again, a few seconds later. Malcolm made a decision and started pressing forward, relying on his wind manipulation to move silently.

He took long, bounding steps, carefully landing in between dried leaves and grass. The summer camp looked like it had been abandoned for at least a decade, long enough for paint to begin to chip off the lean-tos, and small animals to take up residence.

His heart pounded nervously in his chest as he rounded the corner of a rickety cabin with a screen door barely hanging from its hinges. The sound was coming from a small clearing on the far side of the cabin.

Melt stood several dozen paces away from an old, wooden target. He held a bow in one hand, and there were a couple of arrows scattered around the ground near his feet. Slowly, he pulled the bow back and released, planting another arrow into the wooden target.

He didn’t look angry, or volatile. Aside from the small, misshapen bumps in his skull around the crown of his head, and the pinkish hue his skin had taken on, there was little else demonic about him. He wore jeans and black hooded sweatshirt. He was smiling.

Malcolm turned his attention back to the arrows on the ground. With the wind, if he was quick enough about it, he could get one of them into the air, and possibly through Melt’s skull before he even knew anybody else was there. He could kill Melt without having to say a word to him, or look him in the eye.

Would I be able to live with myself, if I did that?

He knew the answer before he’d even finished thinking the question. Malcolm took a deep breath and started down the slope, forgoing any further attempt at stealth.

“Melt,” he called.

Melt stiffened. He slowly turned to look at Malcolm, as though he’d forgotten that anything could be a threat to him. The bow fell from his hands and to the ground. Melt met Malcolm’s gaze, and a spark of recognition kindled in his eyes.

“They sent you?” asked Melt. “Savior thinks that fucking little of me? To send a champion barely past the point of wiping his own fucking ass?”

“Uh…” Malcolm couldn’t help but smile. “Nice to see you, too. I’m surprised you remember me.”

Melt scratched at his scraggly, overgrown beard.

“It’s not how I thought it would be,” he said. “It’s like … a jigsaw puzzle, with all the important pieces missing. I remember a lot, though. Fuck… I wish I didn’t.”

Malcolm looked at him, trying to think of something he could say that would affect the outcome of their encounter. It felt like weakness. He was there to kill Melt, and that was what he needed to do, even if he didn’t want to.

“You little fucker,” said Melt. “I respect you now.”

“You didn’t before?” asked Malcolm.

“Fuck no,” said Melt. “You were a bleeding heart. Didn’t think you had the guts to actually face off against a monster without buckling…”

Malcolm almost brought up the fact that it was that exact trait that had led to Melt becoming a demon. He’d been unable to fight Rose alongside him, and Melt, pushing his powers too far, had turned.

If he doesn’t remember that, I’m not going to remind him.

Melt eyes narrowed, sharpening the silence. Malcolm felt himself tensing up, the anticipation building for what was to come.

“I’m sorry, Melt,” he said. “This time… I have to do it.”

“Then come and fucking do it,” said Melt.

Despite himself, Malcolm found it hard to attack first. Melt didn’t have his guard up. He was capable of fighting back, but seemed like he was already defeated in spirit.

“Don’t have the fucking guts?” asked Melt. “Do you need motivation, kid? Maybe I should tell you about the people I killed on the way here.”

Malcolm clenched his hands into fists.

“That’s the real scary thing about being a demon,” said Melt. “Killing… is fucking automatic. I don’t know if it’s innate, or maybe, just cause we don’t remember enough to know any better. It’s easy using my powers, I just melt and go down people’s throats. Expand once I’m in their stomachs… Messy, but efficient.”

Malcolm forced himself into an attack. He rushed toward Melt, wind running with long strides. Melt watched him approach, dodging his first punch and countering with a knee to the stomach that completely winded him.

Malcolm fell to the ground, rolling to avoid Melt’s follow up kick. He grabbed at a couple of stray arrows at the wind and blasted them toward Melt’s chest with an intense burst of wind. Melt dissolved into red goo right before they struck him, dodging the attack easily enough to make Malcolm question whether it was worth trying the same tactic again.

He saw Melt, still in melted form, go for his mouth and throat. Malcolm had the wind on his side, and used it to create a powerful air current shield around his head, knocking back the red goo as it came within inches of his mouth.

He summoned as much of the wind as he could control and used it to blast Melt back completely. Melt reformed and assumed a combat stance. Malcolm lifted his own fists, drawing upon crumbs of martial arts advice from Tapestry, as the demon advanced on him.

Wind manipulation gave him enough speed to dodge Melt’s first barrage of punches. When Melt attacked with a roundhouse kick, Malcolm managed to knock him off balance with a blast of air from behind. He then rushed forward and managed to land a quick, grazing jab to Melt’s jaw.

“You’re out of your fucking league, kid,” said Melt. He dropped his guard, daring Malcolm to hit him.

Malcolm leapt, feet first, toward Melt. He went right through him. Melt dissolved just as Malcom should have made contact and reformed behind him, instantly grabbing Malcom and throwing him to the ground. Malcom cushioned his fall reflexively, but in his panic, he over compensated. Instead of catching his balance, Malcom launched himself ten feet into the air.

His head pounded with adrenaline and euphoria, from both the fight and using his powers so much. Melt was smiling, though the gleam in his eyes made his expression seem sad.

“You can feel it,” he called. “I know you can. Fuck, it’s the same thing that drew me in. It would fuck every champion over, if not for the stabilizers… and people like me and you. Well, now just you, I guess.”

Malcolm was circling around Melt through the air, trying to find an angle of advantage from which to attack. Melt suddenly changed form and surged up toward him as a red, gelatinous blob. Malcolm was too focused on shielding his nose and mouth to notice that Melt was aiming to get around him.

Melt reformed behind Malcolm, with one arm already in position for a chokehold. Malcolm was still airborne, and he struggled to stay aloft as Melt’s arms tightened around his neck. They began to plummet toward the ground as Malcom’s head throbbed from lack of oxygen. And then, the world turned off.

CHAPTER 30

When Malcolm woke up, it was with a pounding headache and a musky scent on his nose. He blinked his eyes, taking in the dim conditions of a small, dusty shack. There was a window on one wall, reinforced with metal lattice to make it virtually shatterproof.

He was sitting with both wrists handcuffed behind his back and the frame of a metal chair underneath him. Malcolm tried leaning forward, but the chair didn’t tip.

“It’s bolted to the ground,” said Melt. He stepped out of a shadow and into a beam of orange light. The sun was setting, telling Malcolm that he had been unconscious for at least a couple of hours.

“I’m still alive,” said Malcolm. “I feel like I’ve won a prize, or something.”

Melt didn’t say anything. A sinking feeling took hold in Malcolm’s stomach.

“Are you going to try to turn me?” he asked. “Force me to use my powers until I lose control, and become a monster.”

Melt slowly shook his head.

“I’m not like Rain Dancer, or Multi,” said Melt. “Those fuckers are just looking for excuses to kill.”

“Wait…” Malcolm frowned. “Multi… You’ve seen him since he was captured by Rain Dancer.”

Melt chuckled.

“They gave me the whole song and dance,” he said. “There’s a genocide against monsters, and we need to take a fucking stand. As though I’d sign up with them in an instant, throw away everything I believed in, just because I’ve got bumps on my skull now.”

“You met with them,” said Malcolm. “And they just let you leave, when you said no?”

Melt chuckled.

“Nobody stops me from leaving,” he said.

A couple of silent seconds passed. Malcolm’s concern over what Melt would do next was outweighed by his curiosity.

“Did he still seem like himself?” asked Malcolm. “I can’t imagine Multi… working with Rain Dancer.”

“Didn’t recognize me, not that we were best friends, or anything,” said Melt. “If I had to guess… The memory loss… I think it’s like trauma. Like a head injury. It depends on how hard you get hit emotionally when you turn.”

“Is that just a theory, or do you have proof?” asked Malcolm.

“Yeah, I got fucking proof,” said Melt, sarcastically. “I’ve just been doing science and taking notes these past few fucking days. Fuck you, Wind Runner.”

“Jesus, Melt,” said Malcolm. “I hope you don’t kiss your mother with that mouth.”

“I don’t remember my mother,” said Melt. “That’s one thing that’s definitely gone. But even if I did… I wouldn’t want her to see me. Not like this.”

I meant that as a joke. Now I feel bad.

Melt took a deep breath, and let out a shaky sigh. He pulled up another chair and sat down across from Malcolm. He produced a flask from somewhere and tipped it back, taking a long swig.

“It’s hard for me to understand,” said Melt. “Why would anyone want to keep living… like this?”

Malcolm was torn, unsure of whether Melt’s question needed an answer, and if so, what he could say.

“You could try to be better,” he said. “Just because there are a lot of monsters out there who have abandoned their morals doesn’t mean that you have to.”

“You’re so fucking naïve.” Melt shook the flask, and then finished off whatever was left in it. “And that’s not even what I meant.”

Melt gestured to the cabin they were in, and then to the window.

“I used to work here,” he said. “Surprised I remember that. I was… a summer camp counselor.”

“That’s… kind of hard for me to picture,” said Malcolm.

“It was a long time ago,” said Melt. “But… I enjoyed it. I honestly fucking did. It wasn’t fun, though, not exactly. It was mostly just boring.”

Malcolm didn’t say anything.

“That’s what I never got,” said Melt. “It was boring, predictable, and routine. Probably the happiest time of my life, if I’d stopped to really think about it. You’re lucky when you’re bored, especially if you’re around other people, who are bored too. You just never stop to fucking think about that, until you’re not bored. Until you’re scared, or angry at the world. Or you hate yourself.”

He’s venting to me. I don’t think that’s a good sign.

Melt flicked his empty flask across the room. It sounded like a tin can as it bounced across the floor. He reached a hand around to the back of his belt, and pulled out a pistol. Malcolm tensed up and immediately tried to knock it away with his wind manipulation, but Melt had a good grip.

“Easy, now,” said Melt. “Wind Runner, I’m going to tell you something. You gotta learn that you can’t always win. The most important thing you can learn in life is that you have to know how and when to lose. Cause sometimes… it’s too fucking pointless.”

“Melt!” shouted Malcolm. He pulled at the handcuffs as hard as he could, his wrists chafing as he desperately tried to slip them loose.

“Key is taped under the chair,” said Melt. “Along with a note. Give it to Greenthumb.”

Melt brought the barrel of the pistol into his mouth and pulled the trigger. The crack of the gunshot was deafening, and red and white bits blasted out the back of what was left of Melt’s head. He fell forward, blood still pumping out of his mouth and shattered skull, spreading across the wood floor, staining the edges of Malcolm’s feet.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. “Jesus fucking Christ, Melt.”

CHAPTER 31

It only took Malcolm a minute or two to find the key on the underside of his chair. Part of him was frustrated that he hadn’t thought to feel around there earlier, though he knew that it was just his regret manifesting as guilt. He couldn’t have stopped Melt from doing what he’d done.

He was waiting for a champion to show up. I bet he was glad it was someone like me, someone with at least a little empathy for monsters.

Malcolm stood outside the cabin, feeling an odd mixture of uncertainty over what he should do next. Was he supposed just leave Melt’s body where it was, dripping blood onto the floor of a cabin in an abandoned summer camp? It seemed so cavalier, so empty and heartless. But what else could he do? He reported to Savior, not to the normal authorities.

He took a minute to wipe the soles of his shoes through the grass, trying to get rid of the blood staining them. It didn’t really come off, and Malcolm decided it wasn’t that big of a deal. Melt was dead, his shoes had a bit of blood on them. The world would keep on turning.

Malcolm looked around and eventually found a dirty tarp to cover Melt’s body. He resolved to come back, sooner rather than later, and give Melt the burial he deserved. He’d been a good man, and even as a demon, he’d kept a strong grip on his conscience. Thinking about it made Malcolm think of Danny, and the struggle his brother had been through, trying to transition back to living a life that didn’t involve killing and destruction.

“You weren’t such a bad guy, Melt,” he said, looking back through the cabin’s door. “No. You did the best you could.”

The night air had a chill to it that found its way under his clothes, and it made him feel restless as he headed back toward Vanderbrook. The note Melt had entrusted to him felt like it was burning a hole in Malcolm’s pocket, so he headed to the hospital before returning to Tapestry’s house. The sun had set completely by the time he’d arrived, and he was certain that it would be past visiting hours.

Luckily, Malcolm remembered the floor and number of Greenthumb’s room. He spent a minute staring up at the hospital’s windows until he found the right one, and then carefully maneuvered up to it using wind manipulation.

Greenthumb was still awake, and immediately turned to stare at him when he started tapping on the window. The bedridden champion smiled as he recognized him and gestured for him to come in. The window was unlocked, though sliding it open while simultaneously keeping himself in place with the wind was more challenging than expected.

“Hey,” said Malcolm, as he slipped inside.

“Wind Runner,” said Greenthumb. “What an unexpected surprise.”

Malcolm nodded, suddenly feeling unsure of what to say.

“Savior sent me after Melt,” he finally said.

Greenthumb nodded. He was looking better, but he had lost weight and his usual ruddy complexion was pale.

“I assumed as much,” said Greenthumb. “It was past time for Melt to be put down. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble for you.”

Malcolm shook his head slowly.

“Don’t worry,” Greenthumb added quickly. “I would have done the same thing, and so would have Melt, if the tables were turned. Monsters can’t be allowed to roam free.”

“He did it himself,” Malcolm said. “He… shot himself.”

Greenthumb looked puzzled. He tapped a finger on a gaunt cheekbone.

“Strange,” he said. “If that was what he intended, I’m surprised he waited as long as he did.”

Malcolm drew the note out of his pocket and passed it over to him. Greenthumb examined it as though it were evidence from a crime scene.

“Interesting…” he said. “Melt was always the sentimental type, despite his less than charming disposition. What a shame.”

Greenthumb set the note on his bed table. It was as though Malcolm had handed him a flyer in the street, or a piece of junk mail.

He’ll read it eventually. I can’t imagine that he wouldn’t…

“You look like you have a question for me,” said Greenthumb. “Please. Tell me what’s on your mind, Wind Runner.”

“How do you do it?” asked Malcolm. “I mean, I know that’s an open ended question. But you’re… unaffected by this. How the hell can you be so… casual?”

The word Malcolm wanted to use was detached, or perhaps even cold. Greenthumb wasn’t emotionless, Malcolm knew that from watching him interact with his girlfriend, and occasionally Anna. But when it came to his job, he was an unflinching machine.

“I wish there was an easy answer that I could give you.” Greenthumb smiled ruefully. “The world… doesn’t make sense. Especially when viewed through the eyes of a champion. You have to learn to adapt to that senselessness.”

Malcolm folded his arms. He wanted a better answer than that.

“How did you manage it?” he asked.

“I found things to hold onto,” said Greenthumb. “People to hold onto. People that need me to be… strong, for them.”

His smile took on a sudden vulnerable quality.

“I was not a strong man before I became a champion,” said Greenthumb. “Sometimes, what we are is just what’s needed at the time.”

Malcolm considered his words.

“Are you going to read the note Melt left you?” he asked.

Greenthumb shrugged.

“Would you, in my position?”

“He was your partner,” said Malcolm.

“I might read it…” said Greenthumb. “But understand that if I don’t, it’s because I need to be able to choose not to. Sometimes strength is about making the choice that lets you stay strong.”

Malcolm let the silence hang for a moment. He licked his lips and started to turn back to the window.

“Wind Runner,” said Greenthumb. “I’m going to be leaving the hospital in the next few days and returning to work. I’ll need a new partner.”

He looked Malcolm pointedly and raised his eyebrows slightly.

“You think I could do the work of a Field Champion?” asked Malcolm.

“You already have,” said Greenthumb. “Melt’s dead, isn’t he?”

Malcolm wanted to scream.

Melt killed himself. Even as a demon, with a patchy memory and marginal self-restraint, he could do his duty.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“Just give it some thought,” said Greenthumb. “I’d rather have someone I know than someone Savior picks for me. I wanted to ask Anna, but my girlfriend vetoed her as an option.”

Malcolm smiled.

“Gee, I wonder why,” he said.

CHAPTER 32

Malcolm knew that he needed to report in with Savior that night, but the temptation to take a quick rest was too enticing for him to ignore. He made a detour toward his apartment, deciding that it wouldn’t cost him more than twenty minutes to steal a shower and grab some food.

He wearily dragged himself up the stairs and unlocked his apartment, feeling a bit of his tension melt away just from being home. His apartment was dark, and it took him a second to realize that he wasn’t alone. He turned the living room light on and readied himself for a fight.

Rose was sitting on his couch. She wore a white halter top and black leggings with a pair of knee high brown boots. Her skin color was back to its normal pale purple hue, now that she was no longer undercover with Fantasy. Shadows swirled around her body, and her dark hair fell loose across her shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” asked Malcolm.

It was the only question that made sense to ask first, but also the one he felt like he needed the answer to the least. Emotions surged in his chest as he looked at the curves of her body. She wasn’t wearing a bra under her top, and it was apparently on the chilly side in his apartment.

“I came to see you.” Rose stood up and walked toward him.

“Okay,” said Malcolm, with a bit of venom in his tone. Rose frowned and raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re moody,” she observed. “Don’t tell me that this is about our little fight at the casino. That was work, for both of us.”

“Work…” said Malcolm. “Do you always do your job, Rose? If Rain Dancer told you to kill somebody… would you do that, too?”

“You think I’m here to kill you?” Rose smiled. “Really…?”

She stepped in closer to him, pushing her chest out slightly. Malcolm felt a little annoyed, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. She was right. He was feeling moody, angry, even. He grabbed Rose by the arms roughly, pulling her so her face was close to his.

“You’re a spryte,” said Malcolm. “And I’m a champion. How do you know that one of these days I won’t decide to start toeing the company line?”

“You could try it,” whispered Rose. “If you think you could take me. See what happens.”

Malcolm pushed her down on the couch, climbing onto her and pinning her arms. Rose’s expression flickered with playfulness, but also aggression, and a slight edge of fear. She wrapped his arms in her shadow tendrils, though they were limited in effectiveness by the light.

He tore off her halter top, ignoring the annoyed look Rose gave him as one of the straps ripped. Her large breasts bounced loose, well-formed and glorious. She leaned her face up to his, lacing her fingers through his hair and pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Melt kills himself, and I fool around with the enemy. How is that fair?

Malcolm’s anger surged, fueling his horniness in an odd mishmash of emotions. He pulled his shirt off and rushed to undo the zipper of his jeans. Rose bit her bottom lip and put a hand on his chest, playfully trying to hold him back as he pressed into her.

He dispensed with her boots and leggings with the same aggression he’d used on her top. Rose glared at him, but said nothing. He kissed her and felt her dig her fingernails into his bare back in revenge.

Malcolm was hard, and manhandled Rose into position to enter her. She was wet and he slid in easy, almost immediately building to a fast thrusting pace. It was angry sex, cathartic, a way of blowing off steam after a day that didn’t make sense.

Rose gave responded to his need in kind, wrestling Malcolm for control with her shadow tendrils. It was though she was goading him into pushing it further. Malcolm maintained control, grabbing her arms, pressing her into the couch. His angry thrusts seemed to reflect their deferring allegiances outside of the bedroom.

“Oh!” Rose cried. “Mmm!”

“This is what you wanted, Rose,” he whispered into her ear. “This is what you get.”

He groped one of her breasts roughly, slapping one of her shadow tendrils away as it tried to run up his arm. He kissed her again, their tongues intertwining. He grabbed her buttocks in his hands and pumped into her like a machine stuck in overdrive.

Rose’s moans grew louder, until she was screaming out in the ecstasy of the moment. She ran a hand through his hair gently, shivered, and melted against him, her forehead leaning against his chest in submission. Malcolm pumped her a few more times, pulling out as he reached his limit and releasing all over her stomach and chest.

Rose was breathing hard and reeling from her orgasm, but she still had the presence of mind to glare at him and the mess he’d made.

“Sorry,” said Malcolm. “I’ll get you a towel.”

“Thank you,” she said. “You could have… picked a better place than that for it, you know.”

Malcolm considered for a moment. He thought about the lie that Golden Joab had told about Jade Portal being pregnant. Savior had revealed to him that most sprytes were infertile.

Most sprytes. Better safe than sorry.

He frowned as he pulled on his boxers and walked to the bathroom. If he wanted to play it safe, what he should really do was push Rose as far away from him as possible. It seemed as though so many of the complications in his life all stemmed from that one decision to bring her back to his apartment on that fateful night.

“You’ve got a look on your face,” said Rose.

Malcolm shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just… thinking.”

He passed Rose the towel, and she cleaned herself up.

“You can think out loud, you know,” she said. “It’s this thing called talking.”

Malcolm smiled, but felt a little sad on the inside.

“How much can we really talk, anymore?” he asked. “When it comes to anything serious… it’s just going to lead us back to an argument.”

“Maybe it’s an argument we’re supposed to have.”

“Yeah, because we’re both just so open minded when it comes to the one another’s point of view,” said Malcolm, rolling his eyes.

Rose looked like she had more to say about that, but she wisely let it drop. She was still naked, and pulled her knees up to her chest.

“Come warm me up,” she said.

“I have to go soon.”

“Stay?”

Malcolm sighed.

“I wish I could,” he said. “I have to report in to Savior.”

“You don’t think you could put that off until the morning?” Rose shifted, letting one of her breasts slide back into view. Malcolm walked over and sat down next to her, feeling extremely tempted to do as she suggested.

His jeans vibrated on the floor. Malcolm reached over to them and took his phone out.

“Don’t answer that,” said Rose.

Malcolm frowned at her. It was Tapestry. He slid his thumb across the screen to answer.

“Hey,” he said.

“Where are you?” Tapestry demanded.

“I’m… at my place,” said Malcolm. “Why?”

“There’s a protest,” she said, quickly. “Right outside Savior’s hotel. A bunch of instigators stirred up fake outrage on social media, and hundreds came out for it. Most from Halter City.”

“Alright.” Malcolm frowned. “You sound really worried?”

“I have a bad feeling about this, Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “Get over to my place as soon as you can. Please… hurry.”

She hung up. Malcolm set his phone on the couch and started pulling on his jeans.

“Stay here,” said Rose. “Please.”

Malcolm’s frowned deepened. He looked at her carefully.

“You know something,” he said. “You’re trying to keep me here tonight for more than just fun.”

Rose hesitated, and then nodded.

“He’s going to kill you, Malcolm,” she said, softly.

“Rain Dancer?” Malcolm shook his head. “He can try, if he wants. I don’t think he’ll have an easy time of it.”

“Malcolm!” She stood up, grabbing his arm, naked and desperate. “I’m serious. He won’t hold back against you this time.”

Malcolm licked his lips.

“Is it really for my own safety that you’re trying to keep me here?” he asked. “Or to keep me from helping my friends?”

“You’ll notice that I’m not helping my friends, either,” pointed out Rose. “I couldn’t care less about Rain Dancer, but Shield Maiden, and Fantasy. They aren’t bad people.”

“Rose…” Malcolm sighed.

“Just listen to me,” said Rose. “If you’re here with me, you’ll be safer. I can convince Shield Maiden to talk to him. Trust me, Rain Dancer will listen to her. We can work something out.”

“I’m not afraid of him, Rose,” he said.

She looked at him as though he were a complete idiot.

“He only has one eye because of you,” she said. “He will kill you, if you’re on your own. I could even help hide you, Malcolm. Like you did for me. Once this is over, you’ll need that kind of protection.”

A cold chill ran down the back of Malcolm’s neck.

“Once what is over?” he asked.

Rose didn’t say anything. Malcolm pulled his arm back from her. She didn’t stop him.

“I’m going, Rose,” he said. “I’m not backing down.”

Rose nodded slowly.

“I won’t fight you,” she whispered. “Not this time. Please… stay safe.”

CHAPTER 33

Malcolm dressed quickly and headed out. He pushed his wind manipulation hard to get to Tapestry’s as quickly as he could, taking massive leaps that were as close to flying as he could get while still occasionally touching down.

Tapestry was at the door, in jeans and a leather jacket, the bulge of her gun visible under one arm. She was arguing with Melanie on the doorstep. Malcolm dropped down next to them, surprising them both.

“Malcolm!” cried Melanie. “Tell her she’s being crazy. This could turn into a riot! There’s nothing she can do. She isn’t like Savior, neither of you are. You won’t be safe there. You’ll just make yourselves into targets. This is stupid and ridiculous and, and…”

“Melanie,” said Malcolm. “This is part of our job. Savior is here in our city, helping us reorganize. We can’t leave him at the mercy of a mob.”

Tapestry nodded, looking pleased that Malcolm shared her point of view.

“We’ll be careful, Melanie,” she said. “This isn’t as dangerous as it might seem. Most of the protesters are peaceful, and the ones that aren’t are still wary of what champions can do.”

She gave Melanie a quick kiss on the forehead and nodded to Malcolm. The two of them climbed into her black BMW and Tapestry pulled onto the street.

“Morph is already there,” said Tapestry. “There isn’t much she can do to help, though. She’s flying overhead, watching the crowd.”

“Alright,” said Malcolm. “Give me the full details.”

“There was a shooting downtown,” said Tapestry. “Two people injured, one dead. All of the witnesses claim that they identified Savior as the gunman.”

Malcolm scowled.

“That makes no sense,” he said. “First off, Savior wouldn’t do something like that. But even if he was in the mood to be psychopathic… he can shoot energy blasts and tear people in half with his super strength.”

“Exactly,” said Tapestry. “I gave it some thought. Remember the illusion spryte from the casino?”

Malcolm nodded.

“Of course,” he said. “And let me guess: there was no video of the incident.”

“None,” said Tapestry. “It’s one of Rain Dancer’s plots to stir people up.”

“It looks like it worked.”

Tapestry had just turned the corner onto the block where Savior’s hotel was located. A crowd of people cut the street off completely, some waving signs, others chanting, a few trashing cars. Tapestry quickly turned around, parking the car in the street for a quick getaway, if needed.

A couple of police officers were in attendance, and had set up a small strip of yellow tape along the border of the hotel and the public sidewalk. Savior was standing just outside the hotel’s entrance, apparently attempting to calm the protesters down. Wax was at his side, with a deeply concerned expression on his face.

“Everybody, relax!” shouted Savior. “Please, just listen!”

His voice was drowned out by the crowd’s booing as he went on to make his next point. Malcolm could already tell that he and Tapestry would have no hope of pushing through the dense crowd.

“Here,” he said, putting an arm around her waist. “Hang onto me. I’m going to get us in next to him.”

Tapestry furrowed her brow at him for a moment, and then took hold of him, entwining one of her legs with his and pushing her chest against his shoulder.

It took a strong burst of wind to get them into the air. Malcolm felt Tapestry tense up against him as they flew over the crowd. He cushioned them as they came down, blowing a bit of dust and dirt into the faces of the nearest protesters. He offered a shrug of his shoulders as an apology, but it was returned by a number of glares from the crowd.

“Cutter,” said Savior. “Good timing. I’m just trying to have a civil conversation, here. It’s much more difficult than–”

An egg hit Savior in the side of his head. He frowned, keeping his reaction in check as he wiped bits of shell and a yolk out of his hair.

“Oh, come now!” shouted Savior. “That is just uncalled for. I’m a very important person. You don’t throw eggs at very important people!”

“Savior,” said Tapestry. “They aren’t going to leave. We should head into the hotel and wait this out.”

Somebody threw a rock, not at Savior, but at one of the hotel’s windows, smashing through it. Savior set his hands on his hips and glowered at the crowd. A woman stepped in a little closer, beyond the boundary the police had set up, holding her phone and either recording or livestreaming.

“Do you understand what the world would look like, if it wasn’t for me?” screamed Savior. He jabbed a finger at the woman, stepping in closer to her. “Go ahead and film! You all can film! Why don’t I give you something worth filming?”

“Savior!” Malcolm ran up behind, grabbing his shoulder and trying to pull him back toward the hotel. Savior knocked him aside as easily as someone might brush a fallen leaf off their shoulder.

Savior lifted his hand into the air. Neon blue energy condensed in his palm, and the air around him vibrated like the string of an instrument.

“I made a choice to protect you people!” he shouted. “Do you know what would happen if I decided to go off the rails?”

He released the energy into the air, and it streaked into the sky like a cruise missile made of searing blue light. The blast rose up, disappearing after a couple of seconds, and then the night sky exploded with intense light.

It was like witnessing a nuclear explosion, and perhaps more terrifying for the senselessness of it. There was no mushroom cloud, but the blast was bright enough to leave Malcolm unsure of what the actual shape of the burst was. Splotches of colored afterimage coated his vision, but he only had a second or two to consider it before the sound of the blast reached them.

Most of the protesters dropped down to the ground, clutching at their ears. Malcolm covered his own ears, more annoyed by the ringing than the pain. Savior stood in front of the crowd, emanating the confidence and anger of a god whose authority had been challenged.

“You are no savior,” boomed a deep, loud voice.

Malcolm scanned the crowd to see where it had come from, and watched in horror as several people he recognized emerged from the alleyways across the street. Rain Dancer stood at the head of the group, his dark skin and dreadlocks now combined with a black eyepatch over his left eye.

Shield Maiden stood next to him, her skin swirled with pink, purple, and blue colors. And on the other side, now with the familiar, misshapen head bumps of a champion turned demon, stood Multi.

CHAPTER 34

Malcolm was at a loss for words. He looked over at Tapestry to find her clutching at her chest, her mouth turned down in an expression of fear and worry. Multi had been one of the most powerful champions, outside of Savior. If he was now using his power on the side of the monsters, there was no telling how much damage he could do.

“Finally,” said Savior. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever show yourself. And you bought one of my old friends with you. Multi, how are you, buddy?”

Despite the situation, there was something in Savior’s tone that sounded stupidly sincere. He grinned at Multi, acting for a moment like the crowd and the other monsters weren’t even there.

“He doesn’t care about you, you know,” said Rain Dancer. “And there’s no reason why he should. You treated him like you treat all your underlings. Disposable, a tool to use to murder innocents.”

“That’s a blatant… exaggeration,” said Savior. “And I wasn’t speaking to you.”

“Multi…” Tapestry called. Malcolm didn’t think it had been loud enough for their former boss to have heard, he stepped forward after a moment and locked eyes with her.

“I remember… scraps,” said Multi. “But not enough to keep me from fighting for my life. If you intend to kill me, just because I’m now a demon, I’ll kill you first. I’m sorry… Aubrey.”

Malcolm grabbed Tapestry’s shoulder, knowing the effect his words would have her. It was worse than if he’d ranted and raved, threatened to destroy all of them in a typical villainous fashion.

Multi at least remembers her real name. How is she going to fight him without seeing her old friend underneath?

“This is what you’ve made of the world, Savior!” shouted Rain Dancer. “Are you proud of the fact that you’ve created a genocide of an entire class of people? You know, that was done once before in history, and the way we remember it is with shame and remorse!”

“All we’re asking for is a chance,” said Shield Maiden, straining her voice to reach the same volume as Rain Dancer. “We want to sit down at the table with the people in the world who make decisions and prove that we aren’t the threat that we’ve been made out to be.”

Malcolm almost nodded in agreement. It sounded good. He looked over at Savior, who seemed to be considering the situation very carefully. Malcolm turned to look back at the crowd, and spotted the trap.

A dozen copies of Multi had moved into position on the street, some of them wielding rifles, and others carrying pistols. Malcolm nudged Tapestry with his elbow, but she’d already noticed.

“Savior,” he hissed. “They’re planning something.”

“Of course they are,” Savior whispered back.

He stepped forward, grinning and waving to the still hostile crowd.

“People of the world!” shouted Savior. “People watching this on the news, or on the internet… I want you to know and understand one undeniable fact about the world we live in… You can’t always get what you want!”

He stopped to clear his throat. Rain Dancer gave a subtle nod, and the Multis in hiding moved to spring their trap. The crowd erupted into screams as the demons emerged from hiding, weapons at the ready.

“You didn’t let me finish!” bellowed Savior.

“There is nothing more for us to hear,” shouted Rain Dancer. “You use these innocent people as your shield, and look what happens?”

“You murder innocents!” shouted Savior. “And I have no need for a shield!”

He turned his attention onto the crowd, which was already in the process of fleeing, and widened his eyes. Malcolm heard a new chorus of screams erupt, it didn’t seem to be because of fear the Multis, but of Savior.

He’s using his offensive illusions to scare them away. Clever.

The street was mostly clear of innocents in only a couple of seconds. Strangely, it only increased the tension, as Malcolm, Tapestry, Wax, and Savior came face to face with Rain Dancer, Shield Maiden, and a dozen armed Multi copies.

Malcolm knew that Savior, on his own, could easily take on all of them. The fact that the others were there only created a liability for him. Malcolm chewed his lip, wondering if it might be a better strategy to just focus on getting himself, Tapestry, and Wax to safety.

“We knew it would come to this eventually,” boomed Rain Dancer. “Let us fight each other here, and resolve our issues personally, ya?”

Savior laughed.

“You stand no chance against me,” he said.

Savior was suddenly a blur, rushing forward toward the monsters faster than Malcolm’s eyes could follow. He slammed into Rain Dancer, knocking him back and into the brick of the building behind him hard enough to leave a person shaped outline.

Malcolm reacted instinctively, grabbing Tapestry and Wax’s hands and pulling them behind a nearby car. Gunshots rang out, bullets bouncing off the ground in their wake. Wax was last, and as he slid into a safety, he let out a small cry.

“Wax!” shouted Tapestry.

“One of them just… nicked my leg,” said Wax, clutching at his calf.

One of the Multis had apparently escaped Malcolm’s notice, and rounded the car they were using for cover with a rifle leveled at their heads.

Morph, dive-bombing in hawk form, slammed into the Multi’s face, tearing at his eyes and cheeks. Malcolm rushed forward, pulling the rifle loose. He fired a quick shot into the demon’s stomach. Tapestry watched with a horrified look on her face.

She knew Multi better than I did. He was her boss and her friend.

“We don’t have a choice,” said Malcolm. “We’re fighting for our lives, Tapestry.”

“I know,” she said. She took out her pistol, holding it in one hand and helping Wax keep pressure on his leg with the other.

Malcolm peered up and over the car just in time to see two more Multis approaching, fast. He let loose with the wind, knocking them back off their feet and managing to scatter one of their guns.

Savior was fighting both Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden in the street, though the latter could do little against him. Malcolm watched as Shield Maiden created a bubble shield around Savior, only to have the champion tear through it in less than a second.

“If you surrender,” said Savior, “perhaps I could find a way to have you all imprisoned indefinitely, instead of putting you to death. I don’t have a taste for pointless bloodshed.”

Rain Dancer let out a roar and a burst of lightning. It struck Savior full in the chest, but was so ineffective that it might as well have been water from a squirt gun. Rain Dancer flew up into the air and came rushing down again. Savior made no attempt to dodge him.

The Multis were regrouping, several of them laying down constant gunfire against the car Malcolm and the others were using for cover. It was all Malcolm could do to pop up every couple of seconds and try to buffet his opponents with strong gusts of wind.

The rifle was useless to him at anything other than short range. Even if he’d been trained with it, the Multis weren’t giving him time to aim, their shots ricocheting off the car’s metal frame in a ceaseless hail of bullets.

Tapestry tried firing around the side of the car, but it was clearly hard for her, practically and emotionally. It wasn’t like it had been against Danny, or the last time they’d fought Rain Dancer. She was trying to shoot somebody she’d known.

Morph was the only one, outside of Savior, who still seemed effective on offense. She would swoop in every couple of minutes, tearing into the face of a Multi with savage strikes of her beak and talons. Malcolm was afraid that one of them would get a lucky shot off at her, but she wasn’t a large target, and unlike a normal bird, she understood how dangerous guns were.

“We have to pull back,” muttered Malcolm. “This isn’t going to end well.”

“We’re okay,” said Tapestry. “Savior’s winning against Rain Dancer! We just have to hold on until his fight is over.”

Malcolm nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rain Dancer and Savior brawling with each other. It seemed like Savior was toying with the demon, or at least giving him a chance by not using his energy blasts to defeat him in an instant.

Savior dodged one of Rain Dancer’s kicks and retaliated with a hard punch directly to the demon’s nose. Rain Dancer staggered back, clutching his face in his hands, and then began to laugh.

It almost seemed as though his laughter was some kind of signal. The Multis stopped shooting and fell back into formation behind Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden. Rain Dancer pulled his hands away from his face, revealing a bloody, broken nose.

“You’re going to want to get that set,” called Malcolm. “That, plus the eye… I know some girls go for the battle-scarred warrior look, but it’s not all that flattering on you.”

“Always with the jokes, ya?” said Rain Dancer. “Why don’t I offer you a riddle in return?”

The street was silent. Savior watched the group of monsters with a puzzled expression on his face. He held his hand out to the side, palm up, as though considering using an energy blast to end the encounter instantly.

“Riddle me this,” said Rain Dancer. “What is Savior’s weakness?”

Malcolm felt a sick feeling take root in his stomach. He looked from Rain Dancer to the Multi at the head of the pack, who had a smile on his face.

“That’s not a riddle that has an answer,” said Savior. “Multi knew many of my secrets, but I never told him that. I would have been a fool to take such a risk.”

Next to Malcolm, Wax stood up a little straighter. He looked like he was about to throw up.

“He at least has a few guesses,” said Wax. “This is bad. This is really, really bad.”

“No weakness?” asked Rain Dancer. “Okay. Why don’t you fly at me, and throw one of your energy blasts from the air? Or… You could use those illusions of yours, while also being shot at? Shouldn’t be too hard, you know?”

Savior frowned slightly, but kept his expression neutral. From behind Rain Dancer, Multi stepped forward.

“I always wondered why you pushed for that law,” said Multi. “The one about flight capable champions needing to use standard air traffic lanes and follow the same protocols as planes. It seemed clunky and bureaucratic.”

“He told us before he’d even turned,” said Rain Dancer. “Made a deal, a bargain with us, in exchange for his life. Savior… we know that you can only use one of your powers at a time.”

Malcolm chewed his lip, considering the accusation.

Did that have something to do with why his powers didn’t work for me? Is there some kind of mental trigger for each one?

Savior started laughing. There was a confidence in it that bordered on arrogance. Coming from a normal person, it would have seemed maniacal. From Savior, the most powerful champion in the world, it sounded a little terrifying, even to Malcolm, someone on the same side of the battle.

“You only discovered my functional weakness, and yet you think you can kill me?” shouted Savior. “Multi, I’m disappointed in you. Truly, I am.”

A green portal opened directly behind Savior. A half dozen copies of Multi charged out from hiding spots within an alley to Savior’s side. They leapt onto Savior, heedless of his strength and the danger it put them in, and rolled through the portal.

CHAPTER 35

The portal disappeared immediately after Savior and the Multis went through it. A hushed silence fell over the street. A breeze blew a discarded newspaper down the sidewalk like a dry tumbleweed in an old western movie. Malcolm felt Tapestry squeezing his arm.

“What just happened?” she whispered.

“The rest of you can come out now, ya?” shouted Rain Dancer. “You won’t be seeing much of Savior anytime soon. He’ll be nice and comfortable, and several hundred million miles away from being able to do any more damage here on Earth.”

Malcolm gritted his teeth, feeling his anger surge and overwhelm his logic. He stood up, half expecting to immediately take a bullet from one of the remaining Multis. None of them fired.

Jade Portal stood next to Rain Dancer, staring down at the concrete at her feet. Rain Dancer was grinning, with a wild look in his eyes. The Multis and Shield Maiden slowly walked over to join him.

“Where is he?” shouted Malcolm.

He stared at the monsters, trying to hold onto his anger as fear threatened to displace it. They were outnumbered, but even if they’d only been up against Rain Dancer, they would have still been at a disadvantage.

“He’s still alive, you know,” said Rain Dancer. “He’ll be quite comfortable on Europa, one of the moons of Saturn.”

“Jupiter,” corrected Shield Maiden.

Rain Dancer shrugged.

“Whatever,” he said. “The conditions there are… not fun for humans. He’ll probably be okay as long as he relies on his invulnerability, but of course, being limited to one power at a time will keep him from ever being able to come home.”

They found a way to beat Savior. And they can spin it as exile, instead of murder, with their supporters. This can’t be happening…

“Please…” said Jade Portal, in a soft, and slightly Russian accented voice. “I did what you asked. It worked, just like I told you it would. Now please… Give me Joab back.”

Rain Dancer only then seemed to remember that she was there. He turned to face Jade Portal and slowly shook his head.

“The magician has been dead since shortly after we first captured him,” said Rain Dancer. “He was too annoying to keep alive as a prisoner.”

“No!” Jade Portal rushed forward, swinging her hands at Rain Dancer like a cat clawing with its paws. Rain Dancer hit her with a burst of electricity, knocking her to the ground.

“Your powers are amazing, but too dangerous for me to be able to trust you, you know?” said Rain Dancer. “Sooner or later, you would try the same trick on us. It’s too bad, ya?”

He gave Jade Portal another electric shock, eliciting a terrible scream from her.

“Time for us to go,” whispered Malcolm. He frowned, trying to work out how to get Tapestry and a wounded Wax to safety. Morph, still in bird form, was on top of a nearby building, effectively safe and sound.

“I can get him to my car, I think,” said Tapestry. “But… I’ll need a distraction.”

“Distractions are what I do best,” said Malcolm. “Get ready.”

Tapestry nodded. Her expression was hard, but Malcolm could see the surprise and confusion in her eyes. Savior had lost against Rain Dancer. For the first time in history, the incredible leader of the Champion Authority had been beaten, and was now a prisoner of his own limitations.

Malcolm signaled Tapestry to make a run for it and threw himself into the air. He knew that the primary danger would be the gun wielding Multis. He didn’t just expect them to open fire on him, he was counting on it.

A salvo of gunshots roared after him as soon as he flew into direct view. Malcolm felt his ankle explode with pain, and had to grit his teeth to keep from losing his focus.

Getting shot hurts, even when it’s for a good cause.

He landed on the roof of a nearby building, immediately falling into a roll to keep from having to put weight on his wound. He could already feel Tapestry’s regeneration ability working its magic, sealing off the injury before he lost too much blood.

“Wind Runner!” shouted Rain Dancer. “You are next, you know! I haven’t forgotten about my eye. Maybe I’ll let your friends live… but you will die.”

“Aw,” said Malcolm. “You have an eye only for me. That’s so sweet.”

He pushed out into the open air again, circling a few times and drawing more gunfire. Malcolm threw in every defensive movement he could think of, somersaulting and barrel rolling to make himself a harder target.

He caught sight of Tapestry and Wax slipping into the black BMW, Morph already behind the wheel for a quick escape. Malcolm felt a surge of hope, but only for an instant. A lightning blast struck him from ground level, and he fell at an awkward angle, slamming into the edge of a building and only barely managing to pull himself up onto the roof.

Gunshots ricocheted against the spot where he’d been an instant before. Malcolm’s entire body tingled with pain from the electric strike. He licked his lips, trying to listen with the wind to the sound of a muffled conversation in the street below.

“Rain, the police are moving in on our position,” said Shield Maiden.

“So?” snapped Rain Dancer.

“So… We don’t want a bloodbath,” said Shield Maiden. “A lot of people support the movement for monster rights. If we play this right, we can completely overthrow what’s left of the Champion Authority. People will see them as tyrants, and us as heroes.”

“Damn,” muttered Rain Dancer. “Fine.”

He cleared his throat.

“Wind Runner!” he shouted. “I’ll be waiting for you at the Church of the Awakened Children. If you don’t want me to go after your friends and family, you will come and face me there at dawn.”

Malcolm leaned his head against the roof of the building. He looked, making sure that Tapestry and the others had made it away, and then burst into flight. The Multis didn’t fire on him, and Rain Dancer didn’t give chase.

They don’t have to chase me. They’ve already won, and they know it.

CHAPTER 36

Malcolm flew to the top of the tallest building in Vanderbrook, heedless of the toll using his wind manipulation so liberally was taking on him. The euphoria felt good, a counterpoint to the dark mood that had taken hold in his chest.

He stared down at the town below. The night sky was cloudy overhead, and any extra awareness of the situation on the ground his position might have given him was diminished by the conditions. Malcolm sat on the edge of the building, feeling defeated.

He checked his phone. Tapestry had sent him a text, just the address of a motel on the edge of town. Malcolm ran his hand through his hair, wondering if he should even bother heading to meet up with the other champions.

Rain Dancer will make good on his threat. If I don’t face him, he’ll kill all of them. Maybe even Rose, too.

The fact that she hadn’t been there at the protest, fighting alongside the other monsters, made Malcolm wonder. She’d wanted him to stay with her in his apartment. Did she know ahead of time about the trap? Was she trying to keep him out of danger? That seemed to go directly against what Rain Dancer wanted, another chance to kill Malcolm and take revenge on him for the eye.

It didn’t seem to matter if she’d defied orders or not, in the end. Rain Dancer’s plan had probably gone off better than he could have hoped. Malcolm thought about Savior, and whether he had a plan to get back to Earth. It seemed unlikely, if not impossible.

Malcolm headed for the motel, using his flight powers in moderation to keep from pushing the limit. He found it easily enough, and headed into the front office. A bored looking clerk pointed him in the direction of two rooms on the second level, at the end of the walkway.

His friends were in the first one, all of them huddled together around a TV. There was a somber tension in the room, the kind that only comes in the wake of unexpected death. Tapestry ran over to him and pulled him into a tight hug as soon as she saw him.

“What took you so long?” she demanded.

“I just… had some thinking to do, on the way here,” he said.

“She was worried sick about you.” Melanie had apparently been picked up along the way, and was sitting in one of the beds. “She went on and on about how it was a mistake to let you try to distract them. I figured you’d be okay, though. You tend to be pretty good at surviving, even if you make stupid decisions, every now and then.”

“Thanks… I think?” said Malcolm. Tapestry was still hugging him, and only stepped back after another couple of seconds. Morph and Wax gave him a nod, most of their attention still on the TV.

“I haven’t seen anything like this since Day One, Diane,” said one of the news anchors. “The reports of Savior’s death, which are as of now, still unsubstantiated, have set off a wave of protests all around the world.”

“The Champion Authority has pulled out of Chicago and New York,” said the female anchor. “A state of emergency has been declared in seven states. The death toll is currently just short of ten thousand, but we expect that to climb in the near future.”

“Just how much of this is the work of monsters?” asked the male anchor.

“From the reports we’ve received, its monsters and protesters acting in tandem, with looters taking advantage of the chaos,” said the female anchor. “The president has advised everyone to stay indoors and wait until a peaceful solution can be found.”

A peaceful solution. The Champion Authority is in ruins, and sprytes and demons finally have an event to rally around.

“This is insane,” muttered Malcolm. “How can this be happening so fast?”

“Somebody live streamed Savior being pushed though the portal,” said Wax. “I never suspected that the reaction would be this extreme, but Savior was the head of the Champion Authority.”

“But the Champion Authority isn’t just him!” said Anna. “It doesn’t make any sense. Where are the rest of the champions? Why aren’t more of them fighting back?”

Tapestry glanced around at everyone in the room.

“We’re in hiding,” she said, slowly. “If I had to guess, I’d say the champions in most major cities are in similar straits. The threat of Savior showing up to handle powerful demons personally is what kept most of them from being brazen.”

Malcolm frowned, slowly shaking his head.

“As strong as Rain Dancer and Multi are together, not even bringing Shield Maiden and the others into it, they’ll have control of the city in a couple of hours,” he said. “Remember what happened when you tried to shoot Rain Dancer with your gun, Tapestry? And Multi, well, he’s not exactly impervious to bullets, but he won’t be put off by fighting armed policemen.”

“I can’t believe it’s come to this,” said Anna.

The room went silent. Malcolm ran a hand through his hair, knowing that he had to tell them.

“Rain Dancer made a threat,” he said. “Not against me, but against all of you, if I didn’t show up to face him personally.”

Tapestry was already shaking her head, before he’d even finished speaking.

“It’s a just a ploy,” she said. “A way of drawing you out. Malcolm, he wants you dead as much as Savior. You can’t trust his words.”

“Wax,” said Malcolm. “What do you think?”

Wax shrugged.

“I don’t know Rain Dancer well enough to guess at what he’d do,” he said. “But I know… Multi. Well, I know myself.”

“And?”

Wax glanced toward the shaded window.

“He’ll spread himself out through the city,” said Wax. “They’ll be enough Multis to watch all of the roads out. Probably your apartment and Tapestry’s house, too. Zero doubt in my mind that he’ll use the same tactics to hunt us that he did to hunt sprytes and demons as a champion.”

“Well, that’s just fantastic,” said Malcolm, with a sigh.

“He’ll do it either way, Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “You have to realize that.”

“Maybe,” said Malcolm. “But maybe not. I have to face him, I don’t have a choice here.”

“The choice is simple!” snapped Tapestry. “Don’t throw your life away!”

“There is a chance…” Malcolm said. “I could beat him. I’m not sure how yet, but if I managed that… it would make things better for everyone. It would give us a chance.”

Nobody in the hotel room disagreed with that, or at least, nobody said anything. A few silent seconds went by, and then Wax cleared his throat.

“Regardless,” he said. “There’s nothing more that we can do tonight. Let’s get a few hours of sleep, and reconvene in the morning.”

“Are we safe here?” asked Anna.

Wax chuckled.

“We aren’t safe anywhere in Vanderbrook,” he said. “But, unless they quite literally start going door to door, chances are that we’ll escape notice. At least for tonight.”

CHAPTER 37

Malcolm retired to his own motel room. Wax had rented enough rooms for only Tapestry and Melanie to have to double up. He washed his face in the bathroom sink, and spent a minute staring at himself in the mirror.

Could I really take on Rain Dancer? Or am I just adopting kamikaze tactics?

He’d left the door unlocked, and it opened without a knock. Malcolm walked out into the main room to find Tapestry standing with her arms crossed, glowering at him.

“I’m not letting this drop until you promise me that you won’t do this,” she said. Her voice carried a bit of authority with it, and it made Malcolm aware of just how much more mature she was than him.

“Why do you have such a strong reaction to the idea of me going to face him?” asked Malcolm. “Is this an issue of trust? Are you worried that I might turn traitor, and give the rest of you up?”

Tapestry licked her lips, an odd gleam entering her eyes.

“I’ll admit,” she said. “I did consider that. But no, I don’t think Rain Dancer would let you join his side. Not now, with what you did to his eye, and what he did to Savior.”

“Then what do you have a problem with?” snapped Malcolm. “Tapestry, this makes sense. And it isn’t just a suicide run. If I go in with your power, and then try to get close enough to steal Rain Dancer’s like I did last time, I’ll have a chance at beating him.”

“Do you honestly think he won’t see that coming?”

“He might,” said Malcolm. “But he might not. And… if I do die, there’s a chance that it will be a sacrifice that keeps the rest of you alive. You guys will go on and on for years about how heroic I was.”

“You wish,” said Tapestry.

“I’m serious, though.” He met her gaze. “If I have to die, I don’t see a better way to go out than risking my life for my friends.”

Tapestry closed the distance between them. She’d taken off her jacket, and only had on her blouse, jeans, and socks.

“You’re more than just a friend,” she said, a touch bitterly. “Whether I want you to be or not.”

She reached her hand up, letting it caress Malcolm’s cheek. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, more it than it usually would have, under the circumstances. He felt scared, both of what was to come, and of what would happen to the people in his life.

Maybe I’m just looking for a way out, where I don’t have to worry about so many people.

“Aubrey…” whispered Malcolm.

She leaned forward and kissed him, surprising him a little. Malcolm felt her body pushing against his, her arms wrapping around his neck. She cared about him, though it was hard for her to admit it. And he cared about her too, enough to make a final stand on her behalf.

Tapestry kissed him again, comfortably taking the lead in the encounter and pushing him down onto the bed. Malcolm was a little taken aback. Tapestry was confident, but normally hesitant when it came to sex.

She straddled him, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Malcolm started to lean up, but she pushed him flat and planted a kiss on his chest. Her fingers traced lines over his abdominal muscles, and she slowly undid the zipper and button of his jeans.

“Promise me,” she whispered.

Malcolm shook his head.

“I can’t make that promise,” he said.

Tapestry pulled his jeans down, tossing them to the floor. Her fingers teased at the waistband of Malcolm’s boxers, and she kissed the spot on his stomach just below his belly button.

“Promise…” she said, again. She pulled his boxers down and Malcolm’s erection popped into view.

“Tapestry…” he said. “You know that I have to…”

He trailed off, the pleasure hitting him like a train as Tapestry wrapped one of her soft hands around his shaft. She breathed on it, sending erotic tingles through his crotch and into the rest of his body.

“Malcolm,” whispered Tapestry. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go back to my room if you don’t make that promise.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes.

Blowjob blackmail. As though that would work on me…

Tapestry cleared her throat, and then pressed her lips against the tip of his erection. She started to suck softly, and then pulled back.

“I promise,” said Malcolm, equal parts horny and defeated. “Fine.”

Tapestry flashed a smug smile at him. She licked her lips, and shyly returned to what she’d been doing. She only used her lips, barely taking the tip into her mouth as though his erection were a massive straw.

Her hand ran up and down his length, creating a contrast of sensation. Malcolm leaned his head back against the pillow, savoring the intensity of the sensation. He’d spent so much time fighting a battle he couldn’t win. To be there with Tapestry, to give her the promise that he’d stay, and then to receive this in return, felt incredible.

Tapestry took a break from the sucking and started licking instead. She worked slowly, with a little bit of hesitance that made Malcolm think that she wasn’t very experienced at giving head. Somehow, it only made it hotter to watch her. She would blush each time they made eye contact, as though even she couldn’t believe what she as doing.

Tapestry slowly began to let her lips slide slower, bobbing her head along his length. Malcolm set a hand on her head to encourage her. He let his fingers take hold of her pony tail, and Tapestry let out a slightly annoyed noise.

“Oh…” he moaned. He pulled the pony tail down, firmly guiding her to take more of him into her mouth. Tapestry let out a tiny squeal through her nose when she reached her limit, and Malcolm relaxed his hold to let her come up for air.

“This is a onetime thing,” she whispered. “Just so you know…”

“Of course.” Malcolm grinned at her and gave her pony tail another tug. She brought her lips down to his shaft, and only then seemed to start giving it her full effort.

He felt her soft lips, her wet tongue, and her hot mouth all working in tandem as she lifted and lowered her head. Malcolm closed his eyes and gave himself over to the sensation. His hips bucked up into the air slightly as he reached his limit. Tapestry squealed again.

Malcolm unloaded, first into her mouth, and then onto her shirt as she tried to pull back. She scowled at him, but it softened into an annoyed smile after a couple of seconds.

“I’m holding you to that promise.” She wiped her shirt clean as best as she could. “After this, you would be a jerk to break it.”

“I know,” Malcolm said.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and then a harsh knock came at the motel room door.

“Tapestry!” shouted Melanie. “You said you’d only be a minute! What are you doing in there, anyway?”

Tapestry held a hand up to her mouth and blushed fiercely.

“I… should go,” she said.

“Right,” said Malcolm. “Good night, Aubrey.”

She smiled at him and hurried to the door. Malcolm pulled on his boxers and pants, feeling a sudden certainty about what he had to do next.

Wax’s motel room was directly next to his. Malcolm knocked, and was about to knock again when the door opened. Wax looked like he’d been sleeping. It had been a couple days since he’d shaved his head and his hairline had grown out far enough to be visible.

“Wind Runner,” he said. “What is it?”

“I had a couple of questions,” said Malcolm. “I didn’t really want ask you earlier, around the others.”

Wax sighed and gestured for him to enter.

“I was already in bed,” said Wax. “But don’t worry about it. I doubt I’ll be getting much sleep tonight, regardless.”

Malcolm stood, considering what to say.

“Multi didn’t seem to recognize you during the protest,” said Malcolm.

Wax nodded.

“I was surprised by that, too,” he said. “I can only assume that Rain Dancer told him that all of the other Multi copies at the old Champion Authority headquarters were killed.”

“But you didn’t point out your, uh, relation to him,” said Malcolm. “If you’d wanted to, you might have been able to make a case for your life. Given that you’re a copy of him.”

“A copy of the former him,” corrected Wax. “But I guess you do have a point. My loyalty doesn’t lie with the monsters, Malcolm. I was loyal to Savior, and the Champion Authority. I’m not going to betray you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No,” said Malcolm, smiling. “I trust you. I’m just thankful that we still have you on our side.”

He nodded to Wax, and then reached out to shake his hand. He felt the tingle of having absorbed a new power as soon as their hands clasped.

“Was that it?” asked Wax.

“Yeah,” said Malcolm. “Sorry. I guess it could have waited until the morning.”

He nodded to Wax and then headed back to his own room.

CHAPTER 38

Malcolm could feel Wax, or rather, Multi’s power, on the edge of his awareness. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but the sensation was incredibly odd, almost heavy. It felt as though he’d eaten a full meal, and was at the point where he needed to get rid of some of the weight afterward.

Whether this is a good idea, or a bad idea… It’s happening.

He took a deep breath. He stood with his arms outstretched, trying to focus on gathering energy and executing Multi’s power. An excited tension ran through his hands. Malcolm closed his eyes, slowly flexing the new power like an invisible muscle.

Light began to emanate from his chest, growing in intensity until it was blindingly bright. Malcolm’s stomach fluttered, and his heart pounded in his chest. His vision blurred for a moment, and then quite suddenly, he felt a tug as though he’d crossed his eyes.

A sharp popping noise cut through the room. For an instant, that feeling of double vision remained, except it was of two different scenes at once. He could see himself, standing naked on one side of the room. He could also see himself standing clothed, wearing the outfit he remembered putting on that morning.

Malcolm blinked, and the sensation abruptly cut off. He slowly let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He stared at the copy he’d made, who stood naked in front of the hotel room’s door. Malcolm glanced down at his own body at the exact same time as his copy did.

“Wow,” they both in unison.

Malcolm clamped both hands over his mouth. He couldn’t believe it had worked. Part of him had been expecting it to not work. He had been afraid that the power would be too complicated and unusable in the same way that Savior’s had been.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” said his naked copy.

Malcolm grinned.

“Yes, you can,” he said. “It was your idea, as much as it was mine. You are me.”

“Hey, don’t be a smartass,” said the copy. “You know what I mean.”

Malcolm sighed.

“I know exactly what you mean,” he said.

The two Malcolms stared at each other for a moment.

“Tapestry will never forgive us if she finds out,” said the copy.

“That’s why you can never tell her,” said Malcolm. “It won’t be that hard. I’ve kept secrets from her before.”

I guess I won’t be the one keeping them anymore, will I?

“I should be the one going to face Rain Dancer,” said the copy.

“We both feel like that,” said Malcolm. “But given that you didn’t ask to be here, it’s not really fair for me to give you the dirty job.”

“From my point of view, I did ask to be here,” said the copy.

“I guess so,” said Malcolm. “Can you use your powers? Wax told me once that all of Multi’s copies were just normal people, not gifted.”

“Yeah,” said the copy. “I still can. At least, wind manipulation and mimicry. I can feel them both.”

Maybe it’s just limited to the multiplication ability? If that could pass on to each copy, the exponential growth would get out of hand.

“Perfect,” said Malcolm. “And other than that, you still feel like me?”

“I mean… sort of. Damn it, this is kind of confusing for me. I definitely don’t like being a copy.”

“That’s good,” said Malcolm. “That means that it won’t be hard for you to take my place.”

The copy shook his head. “That’s just it,” he said. “I don’t feel like I’m taking your place, I feel like I’m taking… my place. Does that make sense?”

Malcolm shrugged.

“Does it matter? I know how you must be feeling. Think of it like… you’re my second wind.”

“Second wind,” said the copy. “I like that. I’m the Second Wind.”

“For now,” said Malcolm. “You’ll be Wind Runner, soon enough. The one and only.”

The two of them laughed, and the sound of it was disturbingly in sync. Malcolm ran a hand through his hair and started taking off his clothes.

“Here,” he said. “You can have my shirt, pants, and shoes. I’m keeping my boxers. And the stabilizer, obviously.”

Second Wind frowned.

“What am I supposed to do about that?” he asked. “Tapestry and the others will notice that I don’t have it.”

“Say that it short circuited when you went through one of the portals,” said Malcolm. “Or maybe it took some electricity during the fight at the protest and crumbled to dust. Just come up with a lie, doesn’t matter as long as it’s convincing.”

“What about the tracking device in it?” asked Second Wind.

“Won’t be much of an issue soon,” said Malcolm. “Besides, the computer that did the tracking was in our old base.”

Second Wind nodded slowly. He looked down at the clothes Malcolm had tossed over to him.

“You aren’t going to fight Rain Dancer naked, are you?” he asked.

Malcolm grinned. “Wouldn’t that be something?” he said. “But no. I’ll grab some more on my way.”

“You think it’s safe for you to stop by the apartment?” asked Second Wind.

“If they have somebody waiting for me there, I’ll just let them escort me to the church,” said Malcolm. “It doesn’t really matter at this point.”

“I guess not.” Second Wind pulled on the shirt and jeans. It made Malcolm’s head hurt a little to look at his copy wearing his clothes.

“I’m going to need you to promise me that you won’t do anything stupid,” said Malcolm.

“I’ve think you, er, we, have already hit our quota for the day,” said Second Wind.

“I’m serious. Stay with Tapestry and the others. Protect them. Promise me that you won’t break our promise to her.”

“That’s a convoluted promise to make,” said Second Wind. “But sure.”

Malcolm nodded.

“I should get going,” he said.

Second Wind nodded.

“So… Do we like, hug now, or something?”

Malcolm chuckled.

“I think I finally understand how hard it must be to put up with me, sometimes,” he said. “We have some… really good friends, you know?”

Second Wind furrowed his brow.

“Yeah,” said Second Wind. “I know. We really do.”

“Take care of them for me.”

Malcolm headed for the window instead of the door, suspecting that Tapestry might be watching and waiting for him to leave. He almost took his phone and wallet with him, before realizing that they weren’t things he’d need anymore.

This is the plan I came up with. Time to execute it. Pun intended.

He used his wind manipulation in bursts to build up height as soon as he was outside. The air felt freezing cold against his mostly naked skin, and within a couple of minutes, Malcolm’s teeth were chattering wildly.

He was a little annoyed at himself for not finding a way to reabsorb Tapestry’s power in place of Multi’s, but attempting it would have given too much away. Tapestry knew about his power absorption, and was smart enough to connect the dots and stop him from trying anything stupid.

Malcolm circled over his apartment a couple of times, eyes peeled for anyone watching and waiting for him. He figured that if there was anyone in hiding, they’d probably already seen him hovering overhead.

He almost landed at the front entrance before remembering that he also didn’t have his keys. Instead, Malcolm circled around to the back window, praying that he’d left it unlocked. Luckily, he had, and it was easy enough to slip inside.

He took his time picking out his clothes. They were, after all, the clothes he would be dying in. Malcolm put on his best pair of jeans, along with a plain black t-shirt and a thin grey sweatshirt. He wore a pair of boots along with them, which he pulled jeans down and over.

“Alright,” he muttered. “Time to make an entrance.”

Part of him had hoped that there was more to Multi’s power than just making copies. He’d never asked Wax or Multi about it. Malcolm had hoped, in vain, that maybe he’d be able to sense both bodies at once. Of course, if that had been the case, Multi would have been privy to everything Wax had seen, and they’d probably already be dead by now.

CHAPTER 39

Malcolm used his wind manipulation more intensely than he would have normally on the way to the church. It was late enough in the night for it to be considered early morning, and the euphoria mixed with his own exhaustion made his body feel simultaneously light and heavy.

It took him half an hour to get there. He landed in the church’s front yard, remembering the first time he’d been there with Rose. They’d been so naïve about what they were getting themselves into.

Organ music came from inside, the dark and forbidding kind. Malcolm walked up the steps slowly, passing through the open wooden entrance door. Immediately, he spotted Rain Dancer standing at the altar. Shield Maiden was playing the organ. Rose stood in the pews, her eyes red around the edges, and her cheeks puffy.

“No!” cried Rose. “Why?”

She rushed at him, summoning tendrils of shadow to grab at his arms and legs. Malcolm grimaced, dodging them, using bursts of wind to increase his speed.

“Rose…” He grabbed her as she came within range. “Hey!”

“Why?” she said, softer this time. “You… idiot.”

“Hey,” he said. “It’s okay. I know what I’m doing.”

He said, with only the faintest grasp of what he was doing.

“He’ll kill you,” she said. “Malcolm… You need to run. I’ll hold him off, you need to–”

One of Shield Maiden’s rainbow bubbles popped into place around Rose, cutting her off in midsentence. Malcolm sighed, hearing her muffled shouts from within. He knew it was for the best. She might very well die alongside him, if left with the option.

“I’m glad you could make it, Wind Runner,” called Rain Dancer. He hopped down from the altar and stood on the opposite end of the main aisle. He was wearing a black long sleeve shirt, along with gloves, and his dreadlocks were tied back into a pony tail.

“Yeah, well, I can never pass up a good party,” replied Malcolm.

“Malcolm!” screamed Rose. “Run!”

Shield Maiden left her spot at the organ. She used her powers to pull the bubble and Rose away from Malcolm, moving her over to the side of the room.

“I was hoping it would just be the two of us, you know?” said Rain Dancer.

“How romantic,” said Malcolm.

Rain Dancer didn’t stop smiling.

“Ms. Shadow Spryte insisted on being present,” he said. “She claimed it was because she knew all your weaknesses. I knew it was a lie, ya? But… how could I really stop her?”

“She’s just confused,” said Malcolm.

“That’s what I said,” said Rain Dancer. “After this is done, she’ll either accept it and move on, or…”

“Or you kill her in cold blood,” said Malcolm. “Like you’ve done with so many others.”

“Exactly,” said Rain Dancer. “I give everyone a chance. I gave you a chance, even. I was surprised that you didn’t take it, you know? Considering how close you and Ms. Shadow Spryte are.”

“I’m surprised that it would surprise you,” said Malcolm.

“Why wouldn’t it?” asked Rain Dancer. “We’re on the right side of history. You know that the champions kill and oppress the ‘monsters’ without reason.”

Malcolm scowled, feeling his accumulated anger finally start to boil over.

“Honestly,” he said. “You’re right.”

Rain Dancer frowned, clearly surprised.

“You’re right,” repeated Malcolm. “Demons and sprytes don’t deserve to die, just because of what they are. They don’t deserve to be watched, and exploited, and imprisoned, just because they’re different, and maybe scary, in the eyes of the public.”

Rain Dancer started chuckling.

“If you think that I’ll let you off the hook just because you’ve had a change of heart, you’re sorely mistaken,” he said. “You were given the choice to join us already.”

“And I would make the same choice now if you gave it to me again!” shouted Malcolm. “Demons and sprytes deserve rights. That’s true. But you… Rain Dancer… you’re a monster in the old sense of the word. You don’t believe in things like loyalty, or trust… giving your word. You’re a killer, and a liar, and I think deep down inside, you’re scared.”

“I’m scared?” asked Rain Dancer. “Scared of who? You?”

Malcolm grinned at him.

“You wore gloves and long sleeves,” he said. “I bet you’re wearing knee high socks, too. Anything to keep me from touching your skin and stealing your power.”

“And what of it?” asked Rain Dancer. “I’d be a fool to face you without preparing.”

“What do you think it would be like to lose your other eye?” asked Malcolm. “Do you think about that, sometimes? Maybe feel a bit grateful that I left you with at least the one, each time you look in a mirror?”

Rain Dancer’s expression grew cold and serious.

“I hope you’re ready to die, Wind Runner,” he said.

“More ready than you could ever know,” said Malcolm.

A complete silence fell over the church. Malcolm faced off against Rain Dancer, standing across from him like a cowboy in an old western, getting ready to duel. There was a terrible gleam in Rain Dancer’s one remaining eye, a look of death.

Malcolm moved first. He threw himself behind the closest row of wooden benches, knowing that Rain Dancer would waste no time attacking him with lightning. Electricity was his weakness. Malcolm had put himself in a position where he was fighting an opponent more powerful than he was, whose abilities were his Achilles Heel.

Well, I’m going to at least make him work for it.

Lightning slammed into the wooden bench in front of Malcolm, causing it to explode into wood shards that scraped painfully across his skin. Malcolm rolled to put himself behind another bench, pulling up the loose scraps of bench with his wind manipulation.

He didn’t throw them at Rain Dancer immediately, but rather, kept them swirling around him. Most of them were small enough to make it easy to do. Malcolm multitasked with his wind manipulation, keeping the shards aloft while lifting a bench and hurling it at Rain Dancer.

The demon blasted it with lightning before it collided with him, but pieces of it continued forward, hitting his shoulders and chest. He let out an annoyed laugh.

“We’ve done this before, Wind Runner,” he shouted.

“And think back to how it ended last time,” said Malcolm. “You’re no match for me, Rain Dancer. You should give up now.”

There was humor in his voice as he spoke the last sentence. Malcolm hoped that it was enough to make Rain Dancer chuckle, because what he needed was a distraction.

He hurled himself forward to the next nearest wooden bench, this time shooting a wooden shard toward one of the church’s beautiful stained-glass windows. Malcolm figured that if they actually cared about the holy venue, they’d have picked somewhere else to host the fight.

Rain Dancer let out a small roar and charged toward him, flying over the wooden benches to attack from above. Malcolm hit him with a portion of the glass and wood he’d collected, sending them into the demon’s face like a swarm of angry hornets.

Rain Dancer struck out with lighting while simultaneously dodging out of the way. The electricity made it past the cloud, and hit Malcolm square in the chest. Pain flooded his senses, and he let out a wordless scream as he fell to one knee. His skin felt dry and papery, as though the electricity had burned off some of the moisture.

Tapestry’s power would be a godsend, right now.

For the first time in a long while, Malcolm had nothing but his wits to work with. He tried to take cover, but Rain Dancer had closed the distance between them while he’d been distracted by the pain. The demon surged forward, slamming his foot into Malcolm’s chest.

Malcolm had come to the church to sacrifice himself, but with every passing second, the idea appealed to him less and less. The pain was a part of it, along with a nagging sense that Rain Dancer would never keep his word when it came to not taking retribution on his friends.

“You’re pathetic,” shouted Rain Dancer. “The shortest fight we’ve had yet.”

He kicked Malcolm again, this time in the leg. Malcolm grunted, annoyed at himself for being so weak. He gritted his teeth and tensed his muscles. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to make it this easy for his killer.

Malcolm sprang to the side, pushing himself with wind manipulation. He focused, relying more on his powers than he ever had before in his life, disregarding the effect it had on his body and his stabilizer. He moved with speed no normal human could match, jumping around the inside of the church, trying to maneuver behind the demon.

He managed to get in close, and slammed an elbow into the back of Rain Dancer’s head. The demon growled and spun around. Almost immediately, he lifted his hands for a lightning strike, but Malcolm was already in the air. He flew straight into one of the church’s walls, landing feet first against it next to a broken window.

Heedless of the glass’s sharp edges, he quickly cracked loose a shard about the size and length of a dagger. He kicked off as soon as he had it, barely dodging another blast of lightning.

Malcolm dropped down to floor level, rolling between two benches and coming to his feet at a sprint. Rain Dancer was following him with lightning, striking the place he had just been. Malcolm felt the heat as one of the benches ignited from the strength of the current.

He feigned as though he was going to charge Rain Dancer, spinning to the side to dodge again at the last second. It gave him the chance he needed, and Malcolm flung the glass shard forward with all the strength he could muster.

It would have killed the demon, if his aim had been true. Instead, it tore a chunk out of Rain Dancer’s shoulder. He screamed and grabbed at it. Malcolm realized that he should press on the attack a second too late. Rain Dancer’s retaliation struck him full in the chest, a blast of lightning intense enough to knock him out one of the broken windows.

He landed in the church’s yard, rolling across the dew sprinkled grass before coming to a stop. The sun was peeking out over the horizon, giving off long shadows as it banished the night.

“Beg for your life,” said Rain Dancer, as he descended from the air near Malcolm. “And I’ll consider sparing you.”

Malcolm chuckled. His body was bruised and exhausted. He could barely push himself up to a kneeling position after Rain Dancer’s last attack. He slowly shook his head.

I’m ready for this. I knew it was coming when I came here.

He had one last trick up his sleeve, one that he’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to try to play. Malcolm gathered every ounce of wind manipulation he could summon, slowly building it up, twisting and knitting it together. He felt it rustling his clothing, and then saw Rain Dancer stagger to the side as the wind built in intensity.

“Do you know what the wind can do, when it stops caring?” he asked, in a slow voice.

Rain Dancer let out a shout of surprise as a gust blew him off balance. He tried to blast Malcolm with more lightning, but the wind was suddenly too powerful for him to aim straight. Tiles tore loose from the church’s roof. Plastic bags, discarded newspapers, a trash can, all of it was pulled up into the air, into Malcolm’s tornado.

He stood at the center of it, grinning like a madman. The euphoria of pushing his powers so close to his limit was an evil kind of ecstasy. His stabilizer was hot against his skin, clearly struggling to keep his emotions in check, and failing.

“You’ll kill us all!” shouted Rain Dancer.

“That’s the idea,” said Malcolm.

He smiled and held his hands out to either side. He could it feel it coming, as though he was standing on the tracks in front of an oncoming train. He could see the turning point, the line between being one of the gifted and being a monster, and he didn’t stop as he surged toward it.

And then, Rain Dancer tackled him, full on in the chest. Malcolm caught a glimpse of the demon’s face as they tumbled to the ground together, bruised and bloodied by the deluge of airborne objects. The tornado began losing strength as soon as Malcolm stopped focusing on it.

Rain Dancer slammed his fist into Malcolm’s face, tearing a cut into his cheek. He set his hand on Malcolm’s chest and roared as he blasted electricity through him. Malcolm didn’t have enough breath left to scream. He felt his eyes rolling up into the back of his head, his body seizing from the intensity of the current.

I tried. I even came close. I’ll die… but the story won’t end here. I have a Second Wind.

CHAPTER 40

Malcolm blinked his eyes open, struggling to remember what was going on. He was lying on the grass. More importantly, he was still alive, and Rain Dancer was no longer on top of him.

A fire burned a few feet away from him, smoldering grass and a nearby bush. Malcolm slowly turned his attention back in the direction of the church. He saw Rain Dancer, his face bloody and contorted into a furious expression. Across from him was Danny, hands set on his hips, standing in between Malcolm and Rain Dancer like a superhero enforcing a mandate of protection.

“You think I’ll let you kill my fucking brother?” asked Danny. “Has all of that lightning melted your fucking brain cells?”

“This doesn’t concern you,” said Rain Dancer.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Danny. “Prepare to die, Rain Fucker.”

Rain Dancer roared and unleashed his lightning. A glance at the intensity of it was enough to momentarily blind Malcolm and confirm that the electric demon had been holding back against him.

Danny dodged and unleashed a burst of fire. Rain Dancer only barely managed to roll away from it, letting it strike the church behind him, instead. Malcolm briefly thought of Rose and Shield Maiden, still inside what was now a death trap.

The entire area is going to be destroyed if these two fight for too much longer!

As if confirming his fear, Rain Dancer blasted electricity at Danny, missing him by a few feet and striking the building behind him with enough force to explode one of its walls.

“Bro!” shouted Danny. “I got him! Get the fuck out of here!”

“Danny!” Malcolm gritted his teeth. “I can’t. I… have to stay.”

He felt resolve take hold in his chest. It wasn’t just about ensuring that Rain Dancer wasn’t left alive and able to hurt the people he loved. It was about Danny, too. Malcolm was a champion, and a battle between two demons capable of doing as much damage as each of them wasn’t something he could run away from.

He pushed up into the air, getting high enough to scan the area for any civilians in danger. He couldn’t see any, and figured it was either due to the remoteness of the church, or the early hour.

Rain Dancer and Danny were advancing on each other, attacking with unbridled ferocity. Rain Dancer looked to be on the defense, with Danny’s fire powers doing more damage to him than he gave in return with his lightning.

Malcolm dropped in behind them. He tried to launch some debris at Rain Dancer with the wind, but the electric demon was quick enough to blast them away from him with his powers. The attack only resulted in drawing Rain Dancer’s attention back to him, a slow smile spreading across his face as he realized what Danny’s true weakness was.

Rain Dancer held one hand up in Danny’s direction, as though to blast more lightning at him. With the other, he reached into his waistband and pulled out a small pistol.

Danny reacted faster than Malcolm did, throwing himself in the way of the gun as several shots rang out. Malcolm blinked, watching in disbelief as his brother staggered backward and collapsed on the grass in front of him.

If he’d reacted faster, Malcolm could have knocked the gun out of Rain Dancer’s hand with the wind. He could have deflected the bullets with a targeted wind shield. He could have yelled out to Danny, told him to surge his heat powers outward to melt the bullets before they hit him.