Chapter 16: Too Many Threads To Ignore

We haven't been asked to do any jobs for a week after the cave-in incident, and it isn't a mystery. I read Mirka's case report: it was a scathing criticism of both lizard people working conditions, and on the poor choice of job assignment. I don't know if MBR took the advice, is soft-firing us, or simply ignored it, but we're in it together regardless. For now, that's fine, especially since I don't mind doing nothing. I think I missed my opportunity to take a few years and spend it wasting time... still, it led to meeting Mirka, so it was a great trade.

And now, due to the sudden influx of free time, we're meeting her friends. It does make sense, since we met all of mine. The only problem is mine, in that I admit I'm not great at actually talking to people. The only exception is when I force myself into close proximity with someone for extended periods of time where my guarded personality eventually starts to grow on them.

So now, I'm in the passenger seat of Mirka's car. On our way to meet her friends Harvey and Steve. Not only am I not allowed to make a Family Feud joke to them, but they don't know I'm not human.

She parks outside their apartment building, looking at me sternly. "Please don't be weirder than usual. I really want my friends to like you."

"When have I ever been weird? By the way, is it considered weird to-"

"Don't. Seriously."

I get out of the car, and with a theatrical bow, offer her my hand. "Your wish is my command."

Now that she's glaring at me, an important facet of her beauty is made clear. Her bright eyes are lit by hellfire, poised to burn me alive should I step out of line here. I slowly stand up straight, and put my hands in the pockets of my jeans. She can't physically hurt me, but the creeping dread of how horribly she can damage me mentally remains...

"Mimi, am I insecure?" I ask as she presses the buzzer to be let in.

"Yep," she replies candidly, as we enter the apartment complex and make our way to the second floor.

I didn't expect that answer, but I appreciate the honesty. Mirka knocks politely on the door, which opens in an instant. The men who opened it look very similar, so much so they could probably get away with claiming to be brothers. Dark skin, fairly thin, wearing fashionable clothes and equally fashionable haircuts. The easiest way to distinguish them is one is wearing a blue polo, the other with a tight black shirt.

"Glad you could make it!" The blue polo one says to Mirka, completely ignoring me. "How was the drive?"

"Oh, it was fine, Steve. Guys, this is Lena, my girlfriend."

I offer a handshake to each, which Harvey takes, while Steve pretends not to notice. Great, he already dislikes me. I follow Mirka in, looking around the apartment.

They have an honest to god framed poster of Chappell Roan in their damn living room. It's all I can look at. It takes all of my strength to not mention the level of gay they are. They are so gay that I feel straight in comparison, and I don't believe the word 'straight' can even theoretically apply to me.

"Chappell Roan fan, too?" Harvey asks, trying to make conversation. I glance around for Mirka, but she's busy chatting with Steve. Damn it.

"Oh. Uh. No, I don't listen to much music," I lie.

He looks at me as if I were the strange one, before wordlessly showing me to the dining room. There's a lot of food here. One of the two must like cooking.

"This looks amazing. Are you a chef?"

He glances around, and seeing Mirka is still with Steve in the other room, sneers at me. "You're the supposedly changed girlfriend who dislocated Mirka's shoulder, aren't you?" he asks. It feels sarcastic, the answer not as important as him making it known.

"Yep. That's me."

"Don't you dare try that again. If you do, I will beat the shit out of you myself. Count on it."

"...this feels less like a dinner party and more like an ambush. Yeah, obviously I don't plan to do it again. Wait, what did she tell you happened?"

He rolls his eyes. "She upset you somehow, and she says she deserved to be punched. I can't think of a single thing that would warrant you beating your girlfriend."

I sigh in exasperation, but stay quiet. I don't care if they dislike me, though the implication is aggravating: I'm not going to win them over.

Dinner starts as expected: awkward, irritating, and flat. I only speak when Mirka invites me to, and neither of her friends make an effort to change that. Every time I try to get a word in, one of them talks over me instantly. It'd be annoying if I wanted to talk to them in the first place.

The meal ends as expected, too. Quickly. Steve fakes having to do vague 'chores' in the spotless apartment. Brief goodbyes, and we're out, as I'm literally pushed out the door.

As soon as Mirka and I are back in the car, I gently rub the back of Mirka neck. "I'm sorry."

She nods, but doesn't speak. I can see how upset she is that this didn't go well. I wish I could change it, but their pre-existing opinion of me was too hard to shake.

I didn't make a Family Feud joke, at least, despite the difficulty. Maybe she'll be more forgiving knowing that much.

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My phone rings as she drives us back to our apartment. I pick it up, and answer with fake enthusiasm.

"Heyhey, it's Lena and Mirka!"

Shirai's voice blasts over the phone, panicking and shrill. "Lena, my place, quick, please!" he says before hanging up.

"Mirka-"

"On it." She makes an illegal u-turn, and starts tearing down the road towards his surgery. I watch her hand subconsciously reach for where the siren controls were on the squad car, before she curses to herself and settles on swerving around traffic.

It's a full fifteen minutes before we reach Shirai, but I'm not too worried yet. He's always been cautious, given the line of work, and that includes having two built-in escape tunnels and heavy locking doors.

When we pull up, though, my heart starts to sink. A car is badly parallel parked directly outside the surgery. It's a familiar black SUV, owned by my least favorite hunter.

Why the hell is he here?

Mirka casts a spell designed to 'mitigate high-speed projectile impacts', namely bullets, and keeps it ready on herself as she moves down the empty storm door.

"MBR!" Mirka calls out into the empty surgery, to which a reply of "We're already here!" in an unfamiliar voice replies from down the hall.

Why did it have to be him? Not to mention whoever the hell the other person is. I'm tempted to kill him, in truth. I move into my raven shell to pretend to be her familiar for now, until I understand what's going on.

In the hall, fruitlessly banging on the door to the break room, are a woman I've never met... and Hyrax. He looks worse than he did last time, unshaven and dirty clothes, the mania in his eyes far too obvious. His partner, though, is fresh-faced but stern. Her voice seems to carry more than it should, like it echoes down the hall for a second longer than anyone else's. "Hey. I'm Spider. Yes, I got lucky with the name. Partner is Hyrax."

Mirka's years of being a cop must be why she's able to not react at hearing who the guy is. "Meerkat. What's going on?"

"We got tipped off about some kind of magical beast living with a creepy underground doctor. I sense something, but I don't know what it is, so I'm just waiting for him to open up so I can find out." Spider waggles a small spellbook. "I'm tempted to just break through the door, but that'd take all the mana I got."

Hyrax pounds his fist on the door. "Just open the fucking door! I'll kick whoever's ass is in there myself! I've got a short fucking fuse after that one beast screwed me over."

Mirka walks over, dragging a hand down the door. "I can open it, but I will say that it's not a great idea. You know who that is, right?"

"No, not really," Spider replies. "Don't care much either."

"You should. That's the doctor who takes care of The Pack. If you do anything to him, they'll follow your scent, and kill you. I'm not trying to scare you, but... actually, maybe you should be scared. Look, I know the guy. He's not a threat, and there's no magical beast in there."

Spider purses her lips, and flips open her spellbook. With a quick casting that Mirka seems unthreatened by, a white ring encircle's Mirka's throat. "Truth spell. Repeat what you said?"

"Sure, and I understand the caution. The doctor in there takes care of The Pack. You have a good reason to be scared. I know the guy in there isn't a threat, and that he doesn't live with a magical beast."

Damn, Mirka is smooth with evading truth. All those things were individually accurate, but paint a very different picture based on her wording.

Spider stops casting her truth spell, and sighs. "Damn. Let's call it, Hyrax."

"Hell no. I need this. Maybe this Meerkat is wrong. What if there is something in there, and we let it go free?"

"Or we just move on like rational people. Fuck me, you're twitchy. You sure you're cut out for this?"

"Shut up, stupid bitch." Hyrax storms out of the surgery while swearing to himself, Spider following him begrudgingly.

After a moment, a loud clunk of magnetic locks disengaging comes from the door, to which Shirai pokes his head out, scalpel grasped tight in his hand. It clatters to the floor once seeing Mirka and me, as he pulls us inside, locking the door behind us.

Shirai is freaked out, and I've never seen him like this before. Melo's tank fell apart once due to a manufacturing error and killed about a fourth of her, but he stayed calm and saved her life. He was shot twice in my time with him, and both times he removed the bullet himself with only mild stress. Right now, though, he's pacing back and forth as Melo flashes rapidly trying to console him.

I swap back to my usual Lena shell. "Shirai," I say quietly, "what's going on?"

"Bad. Bad bad bad..."

"Shirai?"

"Sorry... okay." He takes a long breath before explaining. "Melo is sick. I think they got lazy with the ocean water I import, and didn't bother to clean it properly."

"Is it bad?" I ask, a creeping dread taking root.

"No, it's not that bad. Pretty much just a cold. Right, my love?"

She affirms with a yellow flash.

"Still," he continues, "that has me on edge, because I worry too much. Then, this whole thing with people trying to break in because one of Melo's friends talks too much when drunk."

"It's just some no-name MBR goons, right?"

"Yeah, I guess..." Shirai says.

"Mimi, what do we do?" I ask, hoping she has a way to resolve the situation.

She's too distressed to be disarmed by my nickname. "I... don't know. MBR is supposed to be the authority."

"Well if you don't have a plan, then I have one." I pat my hip, and in case she doesn't get the message, I clarify. "It's called a gun."

"Lena-"

"No, Mirka, I'm going to defend my family if anyone tries to hurt them. End of story."

A faint smile starts to break through the gloom on Shirai's face. "Family, huh?"

I try to hide my blush by turning my head away, only to see Mirka in one direction, Melo in the other. I have nowhere to hide. "No shit, Shirai. You and Melo basically raised me."

He hugs me lightly for a moment, before gently guiding me over to Melo's tank to hug us both at the same time. "You know Melo and I will always be here for you, too."

She flashes yellow once again to affirm. It's funny how much we communicate, given that I can't understand her and Shirai's conlang. With just that bright burst of affirmation, I feel all the care she has for me, while her freezing cold tank means as much to me as Shirai's warm embrace.

Shirai ends the hug after his arm starts to stick to the frigid tank, rubbing it a bit to warm himself back up. I turn around to see Mirka's mixed expression, loose eyes and a forced frown. On one hand, I'm sure she's happy to see how committed I am to the people I care about. On the other, I did just threaten to kill two people... I'm hoping she understands.

"So..." Mirka says, trying to change the subject, "Does this count as meeting your parents?"

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Shirai covers his eyes with his hand, while Melo's rapid color-changing form of laughter lights up the glass she's in.

Mirka must not know me as well as I thought, if she thinks I wouldn't kill someone trying to hurt any of them.

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It's six in the morning, and I lie upside-down on the couch, legs draped over the back, reading Mirka's report about Spider and Hyrax as she writes it. Technically, she should have done it last night, but she was too exhausted and I don't know the first thing about incident reports.

"Mimi, are you mad at me?"

She briefly pauses her typing, before resuming it a few seconds later. "No. Mostly mad at myself for thinking last night's dinner would be any different."

"I really tried to get them to like me."

"I know you did." She pauses again, midway through a sentence. I stay quiet. No sense in distracting her from the report.

We stay like that for some time, with me looking up at Mirka's frown of concentration that hides a second, sadder frown beneath. How am I supposed to come back from punching her without revealing why I did it?

"Why can't I just tell them the story?"

"It's not that you can't, it's just that I don't know how they'd react to learning you're not human. They're accepting, generally, but... well, you know. People can be unpredictable. And I don't want to put you in that kind of situation again."

"What's the worst that can happen? They hate me more? There's really no loss here."

"I guess." She clacks a few more keys, raising an eyebrow. "Hey, the guy's name was Hyrax, right? Because there's no active hunter with the name Hyrax in Michigan."

"Maybe a spooky ghost. OooOoOo~"

A faint grin grows on her face, then falls rapidly. "The only Hyrax I've found in the database was fired a week ago."

"Admin error?"

"No... and there are two Spiders, and both of them are guys. Shit."

"The hell? A fake?"

She grunts. "I have no idea. Spider had a physical ID, and Hyrax would have one too. Why are they going around imitating low-level MBR hunters, though? What's the point?"

"Can you look through the database for any former hunter named Spider, too? Not just Michigan?"

She shrugs, and does so, looking through a dozen or so. "None that match the description."

"Looks like we have another mystery on our hands, gang," I say, flipping myself upright. "That was definitely the same Hyrax. He looked even twitchier this time."

"Houdini," she notes, closing her laptop. "I've seen it before. It's absolutely what he's on."

"Interesting. Okay, ex-cop, what's the next step? Kick names and take ass?"

She doesn't smile at my joke. "Lena, this is beyond us. We're not equipped to take on this kind of threat. I sent the report, and Counter-Magic will handle it."

"Wasn't your job taking down magicians?"

"No. Not really. I have, but only in situations where I had the advantage of knowing who I was dealing with, and the element of surprise... Lena, do you know the difference between the magic circles used for spells and sigils?"

"Not even remotely." I am curious, though. I assumed they were more or less the same thing.

"Sigils work by taking magic in from the world around us, and directing it to follow some simple directive. You don't need to know much about the actual logic of magic to use them, you just need the knowledge of the sigil itself, the willpower to direct magic into it, and the intuition to guide it. The sigils themselves are basically a singular law that the magic now follows, like 'suppresses magic' or 'become tangible.' That's why they're all one word."

I nod along, intrigued.

"Spells are the opposite. They require a lot of technical knowledge, and draw on the magical energy of the caster. The circles are more like circuitry: guiding the magic along formal, preset paths, and making it act in a way that's still in accordance with the natural laws of magic. It's far more adaptable, since with enough tweaking, pretty much everything is possible. If you have the mana to do it, anyway."

"Cool, but what does that have to do with me punching a magician?"

Mirka looks at me solemnly. "Do you know every spell in my spellbook, and every sigil I can inscribe?"

I wait a moment for her to continue, but she seems to be expecting an answer to the rhetorical question. "No."

"I have a sigil that disrupts magic. What do you think happens if I use it on your core?"

"I dunno. I die?"

She crosses her legs, clasping her hands together and leaning in slightly. "That's the thing, I don't know either. Your core seems to swallows up magic, so what does that mean if that's disrupted? Would it do anything at all? And that's just a basic sigil. Who the hell knows what a sigil like 'Condense' or 'Imbue' would do? And sigils are a lot simpler than spells... Lena, I just don't like the idea of this. Human magic is way more varied than what beasts can do. Let Counter-Magic handle it, okay?"

I want to say yes, to let this pass, to let someone else deal with it, but something about this situation is bothering me. Why go after Shirai specifically when they didn't know who he was, what Melo is, or even that he worked with the dogmen? The only way I can make sense of this is by finding out myself, and if I don't make sense of it, I can't protect them.

"Mirka, I can't sit around and wait. Not when Shirai is a target."

She holds her head in her hands, not saying a word.

"Something more is going on here. There are too many threads to ignore. They went after Shirai for some unknown reason. Hyrax is on Houdini, a drug we know is made by Ember Scions, and is running around with a fake MBR agent. Counter-Magic will probably destroy the problem, but not discover the cause. Melo's friend apparently said something to either Hyrax or Spider, and I want to find out what." I get up from the couch, gently scratching the back of my head. "I'm going to visit Shirai. See what he and Melo know. Okay?"

"Can I stop you?" she mournfully asks.

I won't lie, and I won't budge. "No."

Mirka looks a little sick as she forces herself to sits up straight. "I know Shirai and Melo are important to you, but this isn't your problem to fix."

I manage a terse smile, before looking to the window. "Makes me wish I was a sociopath. I blame you for this."

With a pained grimace, she gets up from the couch. "Let me get my keys..."

"Mirka, you-"

"Shush. Hyrax didn't recognize you when you were pretending to be my familiar. We can keep that going so it doesn't look like a personal vendetta, and avoid spooking him if we run into him again. Also, you suck at driving." She forces a smile, but there's determination behind the façade.

"Mirka. You just said you were against this." I don't really understand what her motive here is. She's right that there are better odds with her along, but she's taking a lot of risk for likely no reward.

She shakes her head. "You're really funny, you know that? You think you're different from other people in the silliest ways. You really thought I was going to let you do this alone, after everything we've went through together?"

"Yes. I did. It's just... I don't understand. You don't even think this is a good idea for me to do, let alone yourself, and you already explained the danger. Unlike me, if you get shot, that's it. What's the point of this? Is this just for my sake?"

Funnily enough, I know the answer as soon as I see her walk away from the couch.

She opens the apartment door, looking back to me in grim amusement, eyes fixed on mine as I stand by the window. She holds out her arm expectantly. "You're not going to make me look like one of those weirdoes who say 'I love you' before the second date, right, Lena?"

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Shirai's surgery is quiet, which isn't unusual for this time of day. Most gang squabbling happens after 10 AM, in my experience.

Still, Shirai is busily humming his familiar tune and cleaning every surface. He brightens immediately at seeing Mirka and I. "Hey! If it isn't my daughter and soon-to-be daughter-in-law!"

"Please no, Shirai," I say against Mirka's laughter. "That's brutal."

"All talk about us being the family who raised you, huh?" he jokes, covering a yawn. "So what brings you two here today?"

I'm eager to change the subject. "You said Melo's friend talked too much, and that's why MBR was here, right?"

"They hang out every so often. It's nice that Melo's made friends besides me. Well, a bad friend, apparently, but ya know. Not like getting MBR called on your friend is a dealbreaker, right, dearest daughter of mine?" He nudges me with his elbow.

"I'm not calling you dad. And do you have her number? The people here yesterday weren't actually MBR. We're in the process of figuring out who they were."

His face darkens a bit, but he doesn't seem surprised. "Ah. Uh. That's worrying... I'm going to have a talk with your mother, but I'll give you her friend's number. Don't stay out too late, and have fun, you crazy kids."

"You're maybe five years older than me. Maybe."

"No backtalk, young lady, or no phone for a week." With a final smile, he texts me the number, before sequestering himself in the break room. I hear the magnetic locks clunk shut, too.

That's unusual behavior for him, to act this nervous, but I don't blame him. It's a scary situation.

I text the number he gave me with a simple, 'Hey, I'm a friend of the algae. We don't need to meet in person, but it would be a big help if you could tell me who and what you said about her while drunk.'

It doesn't take long to get a text back, reading 'she has three other friends, and this isn't the guy's number'.

I answer simply with 'I'm Lena.'

She takes even less time to reply this time. 'if u know Mel then what would she say to going to the Grand Canyon?'

I appreciate the thoroughness of her friend. I send 'melosira pulchramagicis would flash orange, unless the doctor took her, then she would say yellow.'

She takes a full five minutes to reply, as I move my shell's weight back and forth as I wait in Shirai's clinic.

'u ever been to Charger's'

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It's strange being around this part of the city again. It's pretty deep into the sprawling urban center, and a place I rarely find a reason to visit. Just a few blocks away is a large office building, which rests on the former site of my birthplace, or maybe spawn point, or whatever you'd call it.

Regardless, we're not here to reminisce, as we drive past the inauspicious building. I don't point it out to Mirka for fear of distracting her from what's important right now: a 5pm meeting with Melo's friend Nicole. Mirka finds street parking, impressively squeezing into a spot between two pickups. With a determined smile, she takes my hand as we enter Charger's: a bar that is trying and failing to hide how much money they pull in, to the point they're clearly trying to emulate being a dive without any of the creaking floors or sticky tables. I've been here before, but can't for the life of me remember why or when.

It doesn't take long to find the person we're looking for amongst the busy crowd, or rather, for her to find us. She's an older woman, maybe fifties, with dark skin and dry hair straightened a few times too many. She's alone in the booth, taking long chugs of beer as she flags us down. She doesn't smile as we slide in, or even so much as say hello. Straight to business. I can respect it.

"Okay. I'm Nicole. The woman I was talking to is a regular here: Jenni. She's about five foot zilch, young, lightskin, usually in corporate casual, comes here after work around 6:30. She always refused to tell me what her job actually is, but it's something with a connection to Mel?"

"We don't know," Mirka answers. "We only know that two people were after Melo or Shirai, despite knowing nothing about either of them. They thought-" Mirka pauses mid-sentence. "Wait. How did you know who we were?"

The girl shrugs. "You give off a cop vibe, and I was expecting two women."

Mirka turns her focus to me. "Wait, do I?"

I waggle my hand, trying to appear conciliatory. "Kinda?"

She purses her lips at my answer, but shrugs it off. "Damn. So how did you meet Melo, Nicole?"

She glances off to the side. "I'd rather not say. It's not an interesting story."

"Suspicious," I state, looking around. "Do you have any connection to Shirai's clients?"

"Kind of." She doesn't elaborate, concerningly enough. All Shirai has told me about his work before the surgery was that he was in some kind of research role, given he was in the Arctic when he found Melo.

"It might be helpful to know, then."

She sighs. "I know you two are MBR, so I'm only telling you this because Melo and Shirai trust you. I'm an activist for... well, for non-humans. I'm human, but I get in touch with a lot of non-humans. I learned about Shirai's clinic from one of the dog-people, and visited in passing to see if I could help somehow. Met Melo there."

"Diabolical. Truly outrageous. You must know how much I hate magical beasts."

She looks at me as though she can't tell if I'm joking. I subtly smile, happy that Melo doesn't tell her friends too much about me. "I'm joking. Relax."

"Not a funny joke. Lots of non-humans are pretty scared of MBR as it is. Maybe you should pretend you give a shit."

I snort, while Mirka side-eyes me with a slight grin. "I get it."

"I don't know that you do. You're a hunter. The name itself is a passive threat to-"

"Fuck's sake," Mirka interrupts with a laugh. "Lena?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I'm one of those non-humans you're talking about." I offer Nicole my license, which she visibly recoils at seeing before handing it back.

"Traitor." Nicole finishes the beer, shaking her head. "That's despicable. What, trying to be one of the good ones? You want to get a pat on the head before getting purged last?"

"Aaaand you've officially gotten on my bad side. Congrats."

"Like I give a shit..." Nicole doesn't even dignify me with a glare as she leaves, storming out with indignation.

I shrug and go on my phone. Mirka wraps an arm around me and does the same, scrolling through social media as I catch up on Migration Routes. I'm sure I should be insulted, but I genuinely can't be bothered to get worked up over it. I don't give a shit about Melo's annoying friend, and thankfully Mirka knows me well enough to not question it. We still have over an hour until Jenni usually shows up. Hopefully no one bothers us for taking up a booth.

Fortunately, no one does, as a woman perfectly matching the description Nicole gave shows up right on schedule, taking a seat at the bar. Short, corporate casual, probably mixed race, and looks young enough that I'm surprised she can legally drink. Mirka and I exchange a nod, with her taking the stool to the left of Jenni, and me politely asking someone in the seat to right to move in exchange for $10. Easy enough.

"So," she says, "I take it you're not here because you really dig my vibe, but I'm hoping you'll buy me a drink anyway." She's sharp, having noticed us joining her together.

Mirka feigns a laugh. "Nothing like that. Just here to ask a couple questions. We're with MBR. Let's start with your name and what you do for work."

She nods to the bartender, who pours her a shot of some specialty vodka. She's certainly a regular. "Jenni with an I. My job is sales, but really, I want to be president one day." She's certainly not intimidated, given the flippant tone she takes.

"That's very interesting, considering I had cast a simple magic detection spell before-"

"Fuck off." Her tone changes in an instant, slick with defensive rage. "What, you think because I have a couple magic items on me, I'm dangerous? I'm not a beastie, asshole."

"But you have an interest in them."

She rolls her eyes, downing her shot. "You have the wrong person."

"No, we don't. Lying isn't a great way to make friends. How about we take a short walk outside?" Mirka reaches for her spellbook.

Jenni is fast, but I'm just a bit faster. I snag her arm before she can reach down to her waist, and yank her out of the seat and onto the floor, grabbing her wrists as Mirka frisks her. She removes Jenni's trendy woven belt, some kind of rock in her pocket, a weirdly shaped wooden amulet, and a cell phone that was recording audio the entire time. The fairly crowded bar's attention is fixated firmly on us, to which Mirka's cop training actually comes in handy. She directs attention to her, showing her MBR badge and informing everyone that the situation is under control. I casually take a couple zip ties from my void, binding her arms and legs, before checking the phone. Just a local recording, not transmitting anywhere, so we're safe for now. In fact, there are quite a few recordings on this...

I drag the silent Jenni outside the bar, and set her against the wall out front as Mirka starts analyzing the magic items in the car.

"Soooo, Jenni, wanna tell me your real name?"

"Fuck you," she mumbles under her breath.

"That's hurtful." I pull out one of her hairs, placing it in my pocket to absorb. "Oh well, I'm sure it'll be in one of these long recordings."

Her face is turning red, her nose meeting her brow. "You can't hold me here. I haven't committed a crime."

"Good thing we aren't cops. You'd be amazed how much leeway MBR has." I wink at her, watching her face turn even deeper red. I can't imagine why she's so upset.

There is a complicating factor. I won't call for an MBR cleanup team, since Jenni would spill about Melo. I don't know how much information she's gotten, either, so I need to be safe.

Without much effort, I drag her into the back seat of Mirka's car once Mirka finishes her identification spells. She doesn't seem thrilled that I'm borderline kidnapping Jenni, but I imagine it's not a surprise, either.

Instead of objecting, she focuses on the topic at hand. "Get this. She's an honest-to-God druid."

So she's a druid. A practitioner of the old magic: plants, animals, the earth and sky. I didn't know they actually existed, in perfect honesty. It makes me wonder why the hell she's in the middle of Detroit looking for magical beasts.

"You're a Scion, right?" I ask. Being blunt seems like it would be effective here.

"...what the fuck is wrong with you?! Why would you even ask that?!" Jenni yells, rage boiling over.

Mirka grunts, leaning over to view the back seat. "Probably because immediately after you learned about a particular magical beast, a pair of them tried to apprehend it."

Her anger slowly fades into a cold emptiness. "Bullshit. As if you MBR assholes would care anyway."

"Mirka, could you do a truth spell like that one Scion did?"

"I wish," she answers, "but that's actually pretty high tier magic. It's bordering on mind control, after all. There's a sigil for telling the truth, but it requires a willing target. I doubt Jenni would be willing."

"To prove I'm not a Ember Scion? Yeah, I'd do that. Assuming this wasn't just more bullshitting..."

With a smile, I watch Mirka gently drag her finger across Jenni's forehead, the awkward angle of leaning over from the front seat requiring a few attempts to get right. Eventually, though, she manages to get it done. The twisting, calligraphic series of lines glow in light blue on Jenni's forehead. I never noticed before how different sigils and magic circles are. One is almost freeform, like closing your eyes and scribbling on a piece of paper, while spell circles are geometric, precise affairs. I can see why so few people can do both... Mirka really is amazing.

"Finally." Jenni glares at me, ignoring Mirka for now. "I'm not an Ember Scion, my real name is Jenni, and I'm pretty sure you two are just fishing for info."

"Guilty about the fishing," I admit, "but we need to know who exactly you told. And why the hell is a druid is in the middle of the least druidy place I can think of?"

"...fuck." She glances between us, and sighs. "Have you ever hear of Next Step Genetics?"