Bargains

[Julen]

Julen felt rather startled by Rollick’s fierce insistence that he wasn’t actually going to harm Uluki. Not because the sentiment surprised him, but because he assumed it was blindingly obvious to everyone present. Rollick might as well have made an impassioned speech about grass being green. Unaware of how his own earlier comments about Callie had triggered Rollick’s reaction, Julen concluded that Rollick must be speaking for Dash’s benefit -- she was a serious, sensitive girl, who might be disturbed by watching her parents pretend to dislike each other. “It’s a grotesque farce,” Julen agreed, trying to help out. “But that’s all it is. No one here believes otherwise.”

Listening to Uluki describe the way she and Rollick should act around each other, Julen winced at how familiar some of it sounded. He might not know anything about petty crooks, but if Uluki and Rollick wanted to observe a couple in distress, he and Rosemary could teach them volumes. And their disagreement over the wedding ring also struck uncomfortably close to home, since Rosemary’s token was still hanging from the neck of some random refugees. Julen resolved to pursue Numidar’s suggestion and try bartering for it. But that would have to wait. For the moment, other matters demanded his attention.

“Act like I don’t care...more concerned with my own safety...don’t look too disgusted or outraged....got it.” Julen nodded as he memorized their suggestions. “I think I can handle that.”

Soubrette’s request to see the church beforehand made perfect sense. “I’ll take you there,” Julen volunteered. “It might be a good place for you to teach me the song, actually. I could practice at normal volume without attracting attention. And, if my illusions do get out of control, there won’t be anyone around to frighten.” Julen also had an unspoken reason for wanting to rehearse elsewhere. The only truly private place in the compound was his room, and he suspected that spending the afternoon holed up there with another woman wouldn’t help his marriage any.

“As for who should take the message, I’m not sure. Rollick? What do you think?”

[Lylessa Uluki]

Rollick’s face turned red when Soubrette euphemistically mentioned being friendly— nearly the same shade of red he’d been that morning when Delphina had made her personal revelation. “Oh gods,” he said, sounding deeply displeased.

Uluki nudged him lightly to get his attention, and then gave him a significant look. He met her eyes questioningly, and she made a slight head motion toward Soubrette. He clearly didn’t get her meaning, so she made the motion again in a more pronounced way, with a small raise of her eyebrows.

Rollick looked uncomfortable, but he amended, “I’m sorry, I do not intend to be rude, or to imply that a man would not wish to be… friendly… with you. It’s just that I am quite happily married, and the suggestion unsettles me. This whole thing unsettles me. I was not made for such intrigues.” Rollick’s expression was a combination of tiredness and resignation. “But very well, do what you think is necessary. As long as it is nothing… unseemly.”

Uluki gave him a look that was sympathetic and approving. “I hardly think you need to worry about anything terribly unseemly, given your wife will be sitting a few feet away,” she commented mildly. Rollick smiled wryly in response.

“The building has few hiding spots,” Rollick explained to Soubrette when the subject came up, his tone factual rather than distrustful. “That was by design. It would not do to have Panterras’s compatriots complicating matters, so we chose a place where unexpected lurkers could not conceal themselves and we were in control of who was present. I think that will be safer for all involved. Uluki, Dash, and I will sit in the pews closest to the raised dais. Panterras can stay in the darkness in the back, and we will pretend we are not aware of his presence. That is the only way he could really hide himself. We will make sure to place the candles in such a way that they make sufficient shadows that Panterras will feel secure. Julen’s suggestion that he accompany you there is a good one. You can get an idea of the place while you practice. The rest of us will join you closer to the time. We have preparations to make here, and it would not be a good thing for us all to be seen together too early.”

When Julen addressed his question about the message to Rollick, however, Rollick looked rather unsure. “Teaching you the song is a better use of Soubrette’s time than it would be for her to take the note. But as for who should…?” He turned to Uluki, wondering if she had a more clear idea than he did.

Uluki quickly chimed in. “No one from the compound. If Panterras is expecting to receive messages at that house, he will have the location watched. Panterras has almost certainly been keeping an eye on the base for some time, and will know who our friends are. Having one of our friends… one of my friends… running messages for you will call your allegiance into serious question, Soubrette. I am sure you could find some explanation for it, but the seed of doubt will be planted, and it’s far too late to risk that. Perhaps we could ask someone in the street to deliver it, and give them a few coins for their trouble? Someone who looks strong. And not a child.” Uluki wasn’t intending to send Panterras a new victim.

Rollick, after allowing the others to voice their opinions on the subject if they had any, turned his attention to Dash. “Whatever happens, Dashie, you must keep up the charade if you possibly can. Even if we lose.”

Dash didn’t look pleased with that idea. “I can fight. I’ve fought before.”

“I know,” Rollick said, “but the moment you take up a bow or a dagger, Panterras will realize it is you, rather than Kira. As long as he believes her dead, she is out of danger. If he survives the night and figures out that Kira not only lives but was not even present, he will come after her again and again until he succeeds in killing her. You must protect Kira by pretending to be her for as long as you can. You’re the only one capable of it.”

Uluki nodded. “Your father is right. Kira needs you. Even if the rest of us are killed, you must continue the act. You must be brave, but not reckless. Drop the pretence only if you are in danger of being killed. If that is the case, fly away, as fast as you can.”

Dash looked resolute. “I’m not scared to die for Kira. I won’t stop pretending. I won’t fly away.”

“There’s no need, sweetheart,” Rollick told her gently. “We will not lose either of you tonight if it can be prevented. Your life is no less valuable than hers. We would not trade one family member for another. Neither you nor Kira will die. Besides which, there would be no purpose in it. Your courage is noble, but in death Panterras would not for a single moment believe that you were Kira. You would have died for nothing. If it comes to that, you would better protect Kira by hurrying home to warn her, rather than by dying and leaving her with no idea someone is coming to harm her.” Suddenly Rollick looked pained, considering those possibilities.

Uluki added, “We love you, Dashie. Thank you for your help, and for being so brave.” Then she turned her gaze to Julen and Soubrette. “Thank you both, too. I know you are giving a great deal for this. For Kira. For our family. It will not be forgotten. You have our gratitude.”

Rollick nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

[Quinn]

Quinn agreed with Julen that the best place to rehearse would be the church itself. A church... does that add another whole level of wrong, or is that impossible at this stage? She suspected the latter was true.

Rollick's reaction to her revelation didn't surprise her, as such, but she did feel slightly annoyed. After all, Rollick had had this idea and she had gone off and put it into practice, quite magnificently she thought, and now he was being all prudish about it. He reminded her of the little children she encountered sometimes who she would have to sit down and explain that the show was made up and the wicked witch was just a woman in a silly hat. She tried to reassure him.

"Not unseemly, I promise. I really just mentioned it so that when Panterras gleefully makes the insinuation - which you can be assured he will - you won't give the game away by looking surprised," she said to Rollick, and then turned to Uluki, "and so that there's no chance you'd suspect that it's true, or rather, that I tried anything, because I'm sure you wouldn't suspect him." She gave a weak smile intended to indicate that she knew she was a lot less trustworthy.

"It's not really my place to say this, but I only felt able to go ahead with that ruse, which I knew would work like a charm, is because I'd already seen how inseperable you two are. There probably aren't many couples who could handle this whole thing like you two have."

"That's fine," she said in reference to the note conversation. "I'm sure I can find someone suitably unsavoury to carry it for me."

Quinn listened to Dash and her parents speak with a deliberate lack of interest. They were giving all the right advice, after all - and it wouldn't do anyone any good for her to be worrying about any other teenagers when she was trying to do a job. Sticking to the idea that a magical soldier could handle herself was the best course of action by far.

Once again, Soubrette was somewhat embarassed to be thanked when she was fairly sure that her motives weren't what you would call pure. And even if they were good, if impure, she was still a crook. It didn't feel right.

"I... You're welcome. But if anything this just makes up for my spying on and deceiving you. I hardly think I'm worth gratitude. I ought to be thanking you. I assure you - I have as much to gain, or rather, to not lose, out of this evening as you."

She smirked slightly, feeling the thrill of the heist bubbling up inside her again. "Besides, we crooks are a transactional sort, and we tend to value most a job completed. When Kira is safe and Panterras is dead - that's the time for thanks."

On that note, she started to move away, and then stopped herself. "Although, uh... If things go bad, or even if they don't, I may have to beat a hasty retreat. So what I will say, is goodbye."

She paused awkwardly, aware of the bizzare nature of their interaction so far, and the surreal air it gave this moment. In the end she simply gave an odd little bow and turned her attention to preparations.


Just outside the compound she was able to find a pickpocket Zaryel Ranzenagin knew, and sent him with the note to Panterras' house, telling him to be on his guard, however old and sick the magician appeared. There was no risk of information getting out, because Quinn's young aquaintance thankfully couldn't read.

She spent some time with Julen going through the song, which she thought translated quite well into a male voice. Her only thought about that was that the young warrior really was a loss to the stage. She mentioned, just offhand, that there was actually a production going on fairly shortly in the Drunken Rat by Innamorti Productions, and they're always looking for good singers... It wasn't going to work, but it was worth a try.

Later on, she went to fetch Panterras, to bring him to his death. There was the same giddy feeling, the thrill of anticipation in her chest, but there was another feeling too... like something heavy sitting in the pit of her stomach, and an icy chill down her spine when she spoke with what she couldn't help thinking of as a dead man walking. She felt a little like she was going to throw up, just like the first time she'd tried something really bold - and that time, after a week or so of saying never again, she'd been hooked.

They got to the church early as planned, and hid in the shadows with a good view of both where Julen would be singing and where Uluki and Rollick would sit. Soubrette got Panterras safely hidden away, then emerged from the shadows to speak 'inconspicuously' with the 'enemy' - or rather to point out to them where they'd find him.

This was all a little too much fun - or at least it would be, she felt, until it got violent. Then she might be sick. But till then.

[Julen]

Before going to rehearse, Julen took a few minutes to consider his armor options. If he showed up looking like a Lightsword, fully prepared for battle, Panterras was bound to get suspicious. But Julen didn’t want to face the mage completely unprotected, either. In the end, he settled for wearing a maille byrnie under his doublet, and hoped that Panterras wouldn’t get close enough to hear him jingle.

Soubrette, too, was offered any armor that she might like to borrow. However, she just shook her head and reiterated her earlier statement about beating a hasty retreat if things went bad. The answer didn’t entirely satisfy Julen. But it seemed unlikely that Panterras would make her his first target of attack -- not with Rollick and Julen bearing down on him. So Julen contented himself with a silent vow to make sure she had as much time as possible for her escape.

On the stroll over to the church, he and Soubrette chatted about small things. Julen found her surprisingly pleasant company. She possessed a quick mind, which seemed to effortless mix keen insights with witty banter. And occasionally, just occasionally, some word or gesture reminded him of something else. Something from his childhood. Something from Shim. But the feeling always vanished as quickly as it had come, making it impossible to pin down.

When they arrived, and Soubrette actually showed him the song, Julen felt a little shocked by just how graphic it proved to be. Of course, the young lady made her living as an assassin. She knew about death. Bloody and agonizing death, apparently. But he couldn’t complain -- the words did their job, arousing strong emotions in him, even after he’d gone over them numerous times. Those emotions would feed the illusion he needed to create.

Soubrette’s hint about the musical production actually tempted Julen. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? To make his living entertaining other people. To inhabit a place where tears were only the result of cleverly hidden onion slices, and where the dead rose again after each performance. He wouldn’t need to kill anyone else. Rosemary wouldn’t need to worry about her husband coming home wrapped in a funeral shroud. But Julen remembered his promise to Aorle. He remembered the expression on Tulip’s face when she’d been freed from the brothel. And he knew that, however difficult the path of a warrior might be, it was his path now.

But he did make a mental note to find out further details, so he could take Rosemary to see the performance.

After they’d rehearsed all they could and it was time for Soubrette to go fetch Panterras, Julen found himself struggling with something he wanted to say. It was none of his business. It would make him come across as patronizing and naive. But, as usual, he couldn’t quite stop himself. “Soubrette? I know this sounds stupid, but you seem way too nice to be an assassin. Sometimes...sometimes circumstances force people to do things to survive. If that’s what happened with you, if you don’t really enjoy killing people, I can offer you a way out. Lightsword Hall is a refuge for all sorts of people. A place where anyone can find a new beginning.” Briefly, Julen touched her arm, before letting his hand fall away. “You don’t have to give me any promises right now. Just think about it, okay?”

Then, while Soubrette went to get Panterras, Julen set up the stage, tucking his sword just out of sight behind the pulpit’s lectern. Next, he placed lit candles in the manner than he and Rollick had discussed earlier. He even had time to run through the song once or twice before Soubrette returned.

Upon seeing Panterras, Julen experienced his first flicker of doubt. The man really did look old and sick. Could he truly be as much of a threat as Rollick believed he was? But then Julen thought about what Panterras had done to Kira. He thought about Rollick’s description of the magical powers Panterras commanded. Sometimes, even when the body was weak, it could still be used to harm others. Best to end this tonight.

Julen had been worried that Panterras might actually try talking to him, which would require a (probably very unconvincing) attempt on Julen’s part to appear evil. Fortunately, the mage seemed to consider Julen nothing more than hired help, and apparently believed that such people were beneath his notice. So Julen paced back and forth across the stage, doing his best to look moody, artistic, and shifty at the same time. Waiting for the others to arrive. Waiting for the show to begin in earnest.

[Lylessa Uluki]

Uluki, Rollick, and Dash had relatively little preparation to do for the evening. Like Soubrette and Julen, they first considered armour. Rollick had it easiest there; Panterras knew the warrior would be armed and was unlikely to expect he would be without any sort of protective clothing. On the other hand, Rollick couldn’t exactly look like he was prepared for an all-out melee. He settled for some light armour and his sword and dagger. Dash— playing Kira— obviously could not look at all warlike, but Merohl kindly offered to cut a pelt to fit her, which would offer her some protection, and she wore a thick cloak that would also serve to deflect as well as to conceal her wings, extra fingers, and the dagger she had hidden at her waist. Though they did not intend for Dash to join the combat, at least she’d have some ability to defend herself if direct confrontation proved unavoidable. There wasn’t really anything that could be done to armour Uluki, since Uluki’s “death” by the sword was part of the charade. She would simply have to try to make use of the cover the pews provided, and stay out of the line of fire.

Before they left to join Julen and Soubrette, the three of them went to say goodbye to the rest of the family. Though Uluki was nervous, she didn’t allow it to show on her face, and Rollick and Dash were demonstrating similar calm, so it was not a troubled or laboured farewell.

Uluki couldn’t help but notice faint signs of worry on Kira’s face, though, and the girl’s eyes were as deep and unreadable as pools of water. “Are you going to see my father?” Kira asked.

“Yes,” Uluki said simply, not sure how much information was too much for Kira to handle.

“Is he coming here?” Kira’s face was blank now, and her tone conveyed no emotion.

“No,” Uluki replied, being as gentle as she could. “This is a safe place.”

“You should burn the body,” Kira said matter-of-factly. When Uluki looked shocked, she added, “Some of his friends can raise dead people. Not make them alive again, but make them so they walk and talk. It’s dangerous. They can hurt people. If you burn the body, he can’t be re-animated. He won’t hurt us anymore. And… I think he wanted that.” Kira’s face abruptly shifted from stony and expressionless to a visible tangle of conflicted emotions and loyalties. “He wouldn’t want to come back after he was dead. You should burn the body.”

“Alright,” Uluki promised. “We’ll do as you say.”

“You and Rollick and Dash will come home, right?” Kira bit her lip, sounding concerned.

“Yes, we’ll come home.” Uluki hoped that was true. She wasn’t intending to lose a husband or a daughter tonight. She wasn’t intending to have her heart ripped apart like that.

“Good.” Kira looked at her feet. “Bye. See you later.” But in spite of what seemed like an abrupt dismissal, Kira hugged Dash, Rollick, and Uluki tightly in turn, and her eyes were glistening as she watched them walk away.


***


When Uluki and Rollick entered the church with the girl alongside, Panterras felt his hatred for the fairy bubbling over like a pot left too long over the fire. What little rationality he could ever muster quickly simmered away, and he forgot that he intended to watch Rollick kill Uluki, forgot everything except how much he wanted to see her suffer, and then to see her die. His eyes blazing with rage and malice, he took a step toward her, preparing to hit her in the back with a particularly nasty spell…

…And then Rollick was in front of her, his larger body completely blocking hers until she was out of range and the three of them had taken their seats. Uluki was no longer an exposed target, and there was nothing Panterras could do to her, not from his hiding place. He silently cursed Rollick’s idiocy, though obviously the oafish warrior hadn’t intended to spoil things. Rollick had simply gotten in the way, the usual blunderings of a man with more muscle than brains.

Oh well. Panterras would have a chance to watch Uluki die later. It would be all the better to see the expression on her face when the man she loved betrayed her. And with Kira’s death to look forward to as well, Panterras was anticipating the most enjoyable evening he’d had in a long time.

[Quinn]

Quinn was playing nice and normal, walking over to do the chitchat thing with 'Kira', Rollick & Uluki, but always kept Panterras - or the shadows where she knew him to be - in her peripheral vision. She kept smiling while cursing furiously in her head when she saw the shadows move at Uluki's arrival, but Rollick obviously saw what she saw and blocked the old man's aim. Hmm. Glad he's on my side, she caught herself thinking, and grinned to herself. The very idea that in anything other than highly unusual circumstances someone like her and someone like Rollick would be on the same side...

Of course, Julen had offered - she wasn't sure what he was offering actually, when he mentioned the Lightsword Hall as a refuge, but she suspected it would involve providing intelligence services for the dogooders here, if not actually peeling potatoes or something. And that was... well, it was something to bear in mind. She would certainly make sure she never worked against them in future. For dogooders, the Lightswords had a remarkably realistic attitude to killing off enemies, and they were smart about it.

She moved over to speak with Julen, her eyes passing over the space where she knew Panterras was smoothly, without a second glance. Quinn was still feeling a little giddy, and channelled a little of that knowing nervous energy into the smile she gave him.

"How are you doing? Are you ready?" Her body language at this point, for the benefit of Panterras, said, 'you remember what I told you about keeping quiet?', with a spark in the eye that said, 'play along.'

The dual nature of this interaction threw her thoughts back to earlier today... when Julen had commented that she seemed too nice to be an assassin, she hadn't responded that seeming way too nice to be an assassin was the mark of a good assassin, because that was how come they didn't get caught; nobody thought they were assassins. She hadn't said that because, to be honest, she didn't have to try with him. It was so easy to be friendly with him she was almost being genuine - the way she was with Zaryel.

She could sense - or rather make an educated guess - that Panterras was now watching them from the shadows, so she leaned forward in a threatening manner and muttered, "Mumble mumble mumble... break a leg," in a tone of voice that implied she meant it more literally than figuratively, but with a grin at Julen. Her eyes said, 'showtime'?

[Julen]

(OOC -- The lyrics for "Hermetta's Report" were written by Quinn, and generously passed on to me.)

Taking his cue from Soubrette’s body language, Julen did his best to look intimidated. The result was not particularly subtle. But viewed from Panterras’s hiding place in the shadows, it probably appeared convincing enough. “I’m good,” he assured, in response to Soubrette’s questions. “And I’m ready to go.”

Truthfully, he’d begun to feel a little giddy. Some of that came from picking up on Soubrette’s own repressed excitement. But another cause existed. Before, the magic had always exploded forth in brief bursts -- even the one time Julen used it intentionally, when trying to comfort Ramas, he’d only done so for several minutes. Today, he’d been deliberately channeling it all afternoon. As a result, he could actually feel its presence, like feathers tickling the inside of his veins. Part of him wanted to start giggling, and part of him wanted to scratch at the unnerving itch.

Soubrette’s order to ‘break a leg’ startled Julen, until he noticed the grin accompanying it. Then, accepting the comment as some sort of well-wishing, he nodded and smiled in return. “You too.”

Showtime.

Turning toward his audience, Julen repressed the urge to wave and call out friendly greetings. Instead, he simply acknowledged them with a slight bow. “Good evening. I’ll be starting tonight’s selections with a piece called Hermetta's Report.” He and Soubrette had discussed the possibility of singing a few harmless songs before getting to the main event. But there was too much risk that Panterras might get impatient and do something to ruin the plan. Besides, Julen’s own powers were not completely under control, and any premature hint of illusions would be disastrous.

“I hope you’ll all enjoy it.” Sliding even further into his role, Julen gave the word ‘enjoy’ a suitably sinister sense of emphasis.

For a final time, Julen let his gaze slide over the room, taking everything in. Once he began singing, he would have to keep his eyes shut until the song ended. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t cast illusions with his eyes open, couldn’t force his mind’s imaginings onto a world that he actually saw. So he took a moment to affix his surroundings into memory. The spot where Panterras hid. Uluki, nearly lost in the shadows cast across her body by the pew’s high wooden back. Rollick, seated beside her, looking like it was taking all of his willpower to keep from reaching over and touching his wife. And Dash. Most importantly, Dash. Head held high, mouth pinched into a slight frown of determination, she waited. Julen wanted to give her a wink of encouragement. But such a thing might be noticed, so he kept his face impassive.

Then Julen closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. And began to sing.

“This vermin you see here, this girl you call friend
It was she engineered Della's untimely end...”

Julen had been glad that the song didn’t jump right into blood and guts. This gave him a chance to get warmed up. Carefully, he summoned the image of Dash as he’d just seen her, and concentrated on superimposing that image over the actual Dash. Hopefully, she’d be able to notice the change. If not, one of her parents should be able to give her some sort of subtle indication.

“She was there at the mansion, she attended the ball
Made an excuse to your sister, lured her out of the hall
And all the while smiling and adjusting her mink
She slipped a foul poison into the girl's drink...”

As Julen continued, the tickling sensation intensified into something more like stinging, like he’d swallowed a hive of bees. The buzzing inside his head threatened to drown out the sound of his own voice. With a surge of effort, Julen sang louder, and solidified the image around Dash. Now, she could slump down in the pew, concealed from Panterras’s line of sight, leaving him watching the illusion.

“Scarlet rivers, filling the floor
Lifeblood spilling, out of each pore
Little girl cries, she's in a bad way
Nothing to do, it's her last day...”

It was a horrible thing to visualize happening to anyone, much less a girl he knew and cared about. But Julen forced himself to burn the image into his brain. Concentrating fiercely, he pictured every detail -- only a little trickle of blood from her nose at first, then rivulets leaking from her ears. Red tears spilling from the corners of her eyes. Salty liquid gushing from between her lips as she cries out in pain. And finally, like being pricked with thousands of invisible pins, blood shooting from every pore.

Dimly, Julen heard Dash shrieking, adding needed vocalizations to his illusion. And even though he knew she was just acting, his eyes still fought to snap open. To make sure she hadn’t actually been hurt in some way. But willpower triumphed, and Julen brought the song to its gruesome close.

“She feels it now, burning her skin
She reaches out
She starts to fall
Somebody screams.”

As Julen thrust the last word from his throat, he made the phantom Dash begin to collapse. This would be the signal for the real Dash to roll off the pew and land on the floor, where her body could take the place of the illusion. No blood would remain once Julen stopped singing. But with luck, the thick shadows would keep that concealed from Panterras long enough to allow the others to do their part.

Like a man who has been underwater for too long, Julen took a ragged gasp of air and opened his eyes, waiting for the magic to flee from his body, as it always did when he finished a song. But this time, it remained. Struggling with the distortion of his senses, Julen took a dizzy step sideways, and grabbed hold of the lectern for support. Tried desperately to pull himself together so he could be prepared to help with whatever came next.

[Lylessa Uluki]

Uluki looked up at Julen as the song began, trying to pretend she didn’t recognize him. She wasn’t sure if her facial expression was at all convincing, but with her back to Panterras it didn’t really matter. Though she couldn’t have said for sure, she certainly thought Julen’s performance as the shifty hired bard would be more than enough to fool the old man. Julen was, Uluki thought a little incongruously, actually quite suited to the stage.

The song began innocently enough, but Uluki could see the illusion gathering around Dash, drawing her in. Whether Dash was aware of it herself or only perceived her parents’ reaction to it, she sank down low in her seat, curling her body and hiding herself completely.

The horror Uluki felt watching the spectacle was not at all feigned. Even though she knew it was a trick, it looked so real. Far too real for comfort. Uluki forced herself to keep watching, but her whole body shook involuntarily, and her eyelashes were wet with tears. Rollick, beside her, was stony and expressionless, his face a mask of nothing, but Uluki could feel his tension and knew how hard he was struggling to restrain his emotions.

Then Uluki watched her daughter die, painfully and horribly. It was like a nightmare— like so many nightmares she’d had before, and like so many new nightmares sure to be born this night— but it had invaded the waking world. She took a step toward the gruesome spectacle, and Rollick’s hand tightened around her upper arm and pulled her back; he wasn’t being rough with her, but it would probably look that way to Panterras at a distance. Uluki allowed Rollick to hold her close to his body, his strong but gentle hands now gripping both of her arms, understanding what this part of the charade was about. Rollick wasn’t afraid she would ruin the scene. He’d simply wanted to hold her, needed to touch her to reassure himself that the whole world hadn’t fallen into the darkness before them. And truth be told, Uluki needed that touch too, needed to feel him beside her. She also desperately wanted to hug Dash, to take her daughter in her arms, to kiss her cheeks and stroke her hair and make sure she understood that she was safe and loved. But that would have to wait.

As Dash slipped to the floor, Uluki could no longer resist crying out, but at the last moment she was able to transform the cry on her lips, which would have been Dashie!, into a more appropriate scream of “Kira!”

Uluki fell to her knees beside her daughter, and she touched her fingers to the girl’s soft throat, feeling for a pulse to reassure herself that the horrific sight they had witnessed was only an illusion. She felt the fluttery beat of Dash’s heart, the blood through her veins, steady and strong. “She’s dead, Rollick!” Uluki shrieked in pretend terror, infusing the words with the pain and fear she had restrained during the song. “Kira’s dead!”

Slow, ringing applause echoed from the back of the room, and Panterras stepped out of the shadows. “Encore!” he called out imperiously, gesturing not to Julen to demand another song, but to Rollick to demand another death.

[Quinn]

Quinn stepped aside when the show began, still grinning to herself at Julen's initial shock at her well-wishing - she had assumed an ex-bard would know what it meant to 'break a leg' on stage, but obviously she had assumed too much.

She stood back from the action, watching it with an almost directorial air of pride, the sense of having created this, in association with her co-stars tonight... and at Julen's loaded 'enjoy,' so different from the person she was now fairly sure she knew him to be, she reflected that she couldn't have been starring opposite a better man - not even back at the Drunken Rat.

Possibly the only impartial observer in the room, she was able to take in the reactions of everyone - Dash's spirited playacting, Uluki's disgust, Rollick's stoicism and the utter glee, when he emerged, of Panterras. She herself was thrilled by the spectacle she saw, almost as much as Panterras - but hers was the enjoyment of a theatregoer. You couldn't compare them. The noblest knight may cheer at deaths in a tragedy. The only time to start worrying is when people start applauding violence they think is real.

Quinn did not move when Uluki gave her own impassioned portrayal of maternal grief. She barely noticed Julen's haggard state. Her focus was all on the sickening sight of the one man tonight's macabre show was performed specially for; tonight's guest of honour, if you will.

She gave him a grin that was pure venom, without a hint as to where said venom was directed. If it made him wonder, the only effect that would have would be that he wouldn't analyse everyone's 'surprise' at finding him here.

"Oh indeed," said Soubrette, fingering the bright red flowing scarf that she happened to be wearing and addressing Rollick without taking her eyes off Panterras, "Encore."

[Julen]

When Panterras stepped from the shadows demanding an encore, Julen experienced a flash of panic. His mouth felt dry, his throat tight -- there was no way he’d be able to produce even the most mundane tune. Then Julen noticed that Panterras wasn’t looking at him. The man didn’t want another song. He wanted another death.

Knowing that his aid might be needed soon, Julen reached behind the lectern. But before his fingers could close around the familiar hilt of his sword, a spasm tore through him, and he had to grab the lectern with both hands to keep from dropping to his knees. Like a belly full of too much ale, the magic churned inside him. More than his body could process. More than his body could hold. And, like an unfortunate drunk experiencing the first tremors of nausea, Julen knew that something was about to be violently expelled. He just didn’t know what. Or how.

Fight it off! Fight it off! Rollick needs your help!

With great effort, Julen returned his attention to the scene unfolding before him. Rollick, Uluki, and Panterras seemed to be saying things. Unfortunately, the roaring inside Julen’s head drowned out their words. Even their bodies looked blurred and tinted red. Panterras seemed largely oblivious to the hired help’s increasingly strange behavior -- and even if he happened to glance over, Julen hoped that he’d assume his bard was merely sickened by the gory death he’d just witnessed.

Julen shook his head, trying desperately to clear it. Again, he reached for his sword, determined not to fail his friends. But what he saw made him jerk his hand back in horror. The entire weapon, from hilt to blade tip, was covered in fresh blood.

Oh gods... Oh gods...

Another spasm overtook him, and Julen doubled over as he sunk to his knees. Visions pulsated behind his closed eyes. He saw Dash die, over and over again. He saw blood. So much blood.

Summoning the last of his strength, Julen pried his eyes open, and looked for Soubrette. He wanted to tell her to get the hell out of there. He wanted to tell her that things were about to go horribly wrong. But all he managed was a weak gurgling noise in the back of his throat. And then, every one of Julen’s muscles clenched, in response to his body’s final effort to drive out the magic. Julen could feel it burn as it spewed forth from him. In that instant, blood filled the room -- dripping from the ceiling, gathering in puddles on the floor, splattering the faces of everyone present.

Then it flickered, faded...

And came again, as Julen’s muscles clamped down once more. The gurgling in his throat turned to a soft cry of misery. He wanted to curl up in a ball and die. In that moment, if Panterras had attempted to kill him, Julen would have thanked the man. But the moment ended. The burning receded. And the blood wavered, like a dream just barely remembered, before vanishing a second time.

Julen’s body convulsed twice more, but these were just dry heaves, with nothing left to eject. The magic had gone, leaving him empty and exhausted. Raising his head, Julen forced himself to look where Uluki, Rollick and Panterras had been standing before his collapse -- praying that he hadn’t just gotten any of his friends killed.

[Lylessa Uluki]

For a moment after Panterras emerged from the shadows, he and Rollick stared at each other. “What’s he doing here?” Uluki finally asked plaintively, glancing from Panterras to Soubrette to Rollick.

Rollick shrugged nonchalantly. “He’s here to see the bard, just the same as we are. Don’t worry. He means no harm.”

“No harm? Rollick, what’s going on? First that horrible thing happened to Kira, then he showed up…”

“Silence!” Panterras commanded her. “We have no need of your simple-minded, inane babble. No doubt Rollick has had more than his fill of that over the years. But no more, not after tonight.”

Uluki didn’t look at Rollick, afraid he would break if she met his eyes while he was unable to speak up and defend her. “What do you mean? What are you planning to do to us?” Her voice sounded weak, timid. Good.

Panterras laughed, amused and gleeful. “Not to ‘us.’ Only to you. And it’s not what I’ll be doing. It’s what Rollick has planned for you.”

“I don’t understand. What’s happening?” Uluki tried to look confused, an expression she suspected she was rather good at after much practice with genuine confusion.

“Kill her cleanly, Rollick. I’d like her remains as intact as possible, or I’ll learn nothing from examining them.” Panterras was looking at her like she was already dead. “Once the fairy has been dispatched, you will be welcomed back into the Council with open arms.”

Rollick drew his sword and levelled it at Uluki’s chest, being careful not to snag the fabric of her dress on the tip of the blade. No need to ruin her garment, after all.

“Rollick, what are you doing? Why are you…? Why are you helping him?” Uluki met his eyes now, to make sure they were working in synch.

Rollick looked at her with the same expressionless face he’d worn for the whole performance, his sword still pointed at her. “You will show proper respect for the Council. You will kneel.”

Uluki wondered if that was taking things too far, if Panterras would see through it, but he misinterpreted the incredulous look on her face when she turned to him to see his reaction. “You heard him. On your knees.”

And apparently it really was going to be that easy. Rollick would swing the blade high and wide, clearing the top of Uluki’s head and catching Panterras instead, since the old man was still within the outer end of Rollick’s reach. It seemed the old man wasn’t able to see that coming, because he didn’t object. Uluki sank to a kneeling position as though before a headsman, keeping her eyes downcast to avoid having to come up with an appropriate facial expression. Downcast eyes would be read as sadness and resignation. “Please, don’t… Rollick, I love you.”

The swing of the sword never came. Instead all three of them were caught by surprise as the room turned red and bloody, as though weeping at the sight of the violence. Uluki saw blood on the two men’s faces, could see it on her own body but couldn’t feel the wet drips. Then it was gone.

Panterras glared at Uluki with furious eyes. “What did you do, you treacherous little bitch?”

Uluki was startled. Why would he assume she was responsible for this? She’d never been capable of creating that sort of vision, not even when she used to have combat powers. Then she realized he’d drawn that conclusion because she was Fae, not because of anything he’d ever seen her do. In truth, she suspected it must have been Julen creating the illusion, and one look at the state he was in told her it hadn’t been intentional. Uluki wanted nothing more than to race over and help her friend, but the situation was too delicate. One false move and she could get them all killed.

“I made it bleed like you made other people bleed,” Uluki said quietly. Best he assume she did it, rather than letting him figure out Julen’s true involvement. If he wanted to believe it was a fairy glamour, it was all to the good. “I did it to make you sorry.”

Even as she was saying the last words, the room was reddening again, the blood was flowing. It gathered like red rain at their feet, then winked out of existence as suddenly as it had appeared.

Panterras looked even angrier, past the point of sanity, and he abruptly stepped back from Rollick and Uluki, who was still kneeling beside her husband. “What is this game you two are playing? What is the purpose of this magic, fairy? And why have you not ended it, Rollick? Put a stop to the follies of this evil creature, I command you!”

Uluki realized there was no way for Rollick to continue the charade. He was too close to her, too far from Panterras, and the old man was screaming for her death. Rollick took a step toward Panterras, but that step was more than enough for Panterras to see Rollick’s true intentions, and the old man darted away. Uluki, meanwhile, dropped forward to her hands and knees and crawled behind a pew, seeking cover and getting out of Rollick’s way.

Panterras looked at Rollick with undiluted hatred in his eyes. “How could you? How could you betray me, and all that I stand for? All we, and the Council, once stood for?”

“The Council stood for protecting the innocent and the defenceless. Protecting the people from harm, not torturing children. It is you, not I, who has turned from those ideals.”

“I have made sacrifices that you can’t even begin to imagine…”

“You’re right. I can’t even begin to imagine hurting my daughters.” Rollick moved more quickly than Panterras did, and he pushed his advantage to lessen the distance between them, continuing to back the old man toward the wall. Panterras, meanwhile, had been fumbling with his sleeve rather than attempting any sort of counterattack, which puzzled Rollick, but with the old man now in sword range, Rollick was ready to make his strike.

[Quinn]

Quinn kept her face impassive, while actually greatly admiring Uluki's performance. Well, and Rollick's. The stoic act was just what was needed; some people would really have hammed it up, but he avoided that pitfall. Some people, in her experience, simply came into their own when they were really on edge and that was definitely what was happening here. With a glance and Panterras, she realised they probably could have gotten away with a much less convincing performance, but it was always a thrill to see great theatre in real life.

Julen, on the other hand, was looking really bad. It was a sign of just how much Soubrette had decided she liked him that Quinn actually began to subtly edge between him and Panterras - blocking his view, she told herself. Panterras wasn`t really paying attention to her, so she figured she could - ooh. Kneeling. Great touch, Panterras will love that...

Then the room went red. Quinn instinctively glanced back at Julen... he must be in trouble. Projecting nightmares - Ina had known an illusionist who did that. Soubrette wanted to go help Julen, but Quinn stood her ground as the world went red and the plan fell apart around her.

The game was up - and when Rollick and Panterras began squaring off, Quinn knew it was time to make X`s allegiance known.

"A trick!" She howled in outrage, fumbling at her hips as if to draw some concealed weapon. "You... you double crossers!"

Rollick looked like he could handle himself, and she had no real desire to get involved in that fight - so she gave in to Soubrette. "The bard too!" she shouted, spinning around and charging over to where Julen lay. He looked spent, but alive - and seemed to have been felled in the act of making for his sword in the lectern. He didn`t look like he was in any condition to use it, but she had a hunch he`d try anyway, and in the event of a victory by Panterras, he should at least be given a chance.

"Look out, he`s got a sword!" she shouted, grabbing it and thrusting it at Julen, handle first, for him to grab. Worst case scenario, if he couldn`t even pick it up, she`d hold it herself - she couldn`t use it, but she`d gotten out of a few sticky situations just by looking like she knew what she was doing with a weapon, and maybe it would suffice to help her escape - although she didn`t quite trust herself not to try and help Julen out too, which was the sort of thinking that would get her killed more likely than not.

[Julen]

“A trick! You... you double crossers!”

As Soubrette’s words penetrated his haze, Julen struggled to make sense of them. Who was she yelling at? Wasn’t she the double crosser? Could she, as her outburst implied, really owe her ultimate allegiance to Panterras? Or was this some new layer of deceit in their increasingly convoluted charade? Gods, it was all so complicated! For one terrible moment, Julen completely lost track of who was friend, who was foe, and who was pretending to be the exact opposite.

Then he noticed Rollick, sword drawn, advancing on Panterras. Such an overt confrontation meant that something must have made the mage suspicious.

Gee, do you think seeing the room drenched in illusionary blood -- twice -- possibly tipped him off just a little?

With a slight shake of his head, Julen silenced the tiny voice. He’d screwed up. Bad. But nothing would be achieved by crouching here, scolding himself. He needed to get back in the fight. Help his friends. Gathering what remained of his strength, Julen started to reach for his sword, only to find Soubrette already holding it out to him.

A subtle wink rewarded her quick thinking. As Julen took the sword from Soubrette, he nodded his head toward a nearby pew, where she could take cover. Then he attempted to stand. But pain stabbed through his weak muscles, and the maille hidden under his doublet felt like a great metal net, dragging his body toward the earth. An unsteady wobble ended his first attempt.

Get up! Aorle would get up. Aorle would already be up.

Clenching his teeth, and using the sword for added leverage, Julen managed to push himself upright. He knew he was in no condition to fight Panterras -- but Panterras didn’t know that. Julen hoped he could still aid Rollick by dividing the mage’s attention between them.

“Rollick is right, Panterras. You crossed the line. I suppose it’s easy to make ‘sacrifices’ when other people are the ones who suffer because of them. People like Kira.” Julen swallowed, trying desperately to lubricate his throat, which was only now beginning to produce sound without rasping. “You wanted to discover the source of evil? Well, you found it. Just take a look in any mirror.”

Julen raised his sword threateningly. Panterras didn’t know that he was wearing armor under his clothes, so he might waste a magical strike against him. That would give Rollick a chance to attack. Although, somewhat belatedly, it occurred to Julen that Panterras might go for a head shot instead. In which case, Julen hoped he still had enough dexterity to duck.

[Lylessa Uluki]

Panterras instinctively turned slightly to look at Julen as he spoke. “You would claim that I am evil? Yet you defend that wretched little fairy, who is infinitely worse. A whore, who came soiled to her marriage bed. A murderer with blood on her hands. A viper who poisons and corrupts all that she touches. She’ll take everything from you, as she took everything from me… and from Rollick. He used to have the world: power, position, and renown. Now he’s stuck playing lapdog to this crazy fairy bitch and her little brood of freaks. I could have saved him… and you. But now it’s too late.”

This conversational distraction gave Rollick ample opportunity for a strike, though one that had to come at a somewhat awkward angle. His slash opened a gash nearly from shoulder to shoulder, but the thick, layered velvet robes Panterras wore provided some protection, so it was not a lethal strike; Panterras reeled from the impact and began to bleed copiously.

Almost lazily, Panterras flicked something at Rollick. The object, a small twist of fabric and hair, stuck to Rollick’s armour for a split second, then fell to the floor. Rollick was confused— this seemed a rather abstract method of self-defence— but he swung at Panterras again without losing the momentum of the first strike, aiming for the throat this time, just above the man’s collar.

Abruptly, Rollick staggered backward and fell, his sword clanging to the floor a few feet from his hand.

At the same instant the air in front of Panterras crackled and sparked, forming into two purple and orange balls of visible energy. Panterras didn’t bother to watch Rollick fall; he was now entirely focused on Julen. He quickly lobbed one of the conjured energy balls at Julen’s head.

Whether the spell hit Julen or not wasn’t really the point. One strike wouldn’t be enough to kill someone anyway, so Panterras would have to finish him off later regardless. Even if Julen was able to dodge, the time it took would give Panterras the chance to hit another target.

***

As soon as she saw Rollick stagger, Uluki was moving toward him, crawling as fast as she could go on her hands and knees, taking advantage of the cover as long as she could. Then she came to the end of the pew, and without a second’s hesitation she was beyond it, in the open, completely exposed as she knelt by Rollick’s side.

Rollick was bleeding from a hundred wounds, great and small, and his armour had been no barrier to the destructive magic. Uluki recognized some of the injuries; they were old, some healed by magic, some which had left scars she was well familiar with. The wound to the back of the skull, and another where his neck joined his shoulder, were from the battle with the evil god, and would in themselves be enough to be lethal, even if he wasn’t already bleeding to death from dozens of more minor injuries— which he was. She knew she didn’t have much time.

Uluki had no defence against Panterras’s magic, and she was the one he was intending to kill. Part of her brain did register that making herself a target meant that she would die, but survival wasn’t the point anymore, not in the long term. She just had to survive long enough to heal Rollick at least a little, to keep him alive. Uluki laid her hands against him, pouring magic into him as quickly as she could before Panterras came after her. And it proved to be mere seconds before he did.

She saw Panterras sending the second ball of energy straight toward her, but there was no way to dodge, not without taking her hands off Rollick and stopping the healing; it was too big for her to duck it without moving her whole body. She cried out as it hit her, her bones and muscles and skin in agony as though she was being twisted and burned at the same time, and red welts rose on her face and neck as if from intense heat, but she didn’t pull away from Rollick.

Even as Uluki was hit, Rollick was moving. He couldn’t reach his sword, but he still had the dagger at his belt. Unable to rise from the floor, he threw it at Panterras, fast and accurate, catching him in the chest.

Panterras looked confused, then shocked. Ignoring Rollick and Julen, he turned his gaze to Uluki. “Whore,” he croaked hoarsely, then he pitched forward, the life gone from him.

Uluki clung to Rollick, burying her burnt face against him as she continued to heal his many injuries.

[Quinn]

Quinn gave a genuine smile when Julen struggled to his feet, as she predicted - in no condition to fight, quite probably, but a sufficient diversion for Panterras. She took his advice and executed a neat roll into the safety of the pew. She thought about yelling something that gave Panterras an in-character motivation for her to be doing that, but thought better of it - at this point, she figured Panterras was more than distracted enough, and she'd do better to not draw attention to herself.

Peeking through some decorative holes in the back of the next pew, she was able to make out most of the fight - Rollick felled by some bizzare trick, Uluki blasted, and Panterras apparently dead.

After a second she got up, realising she was probably the only person who might not get a spell cast at them if he turned out to be alright, walked over to the old man's prone body and checked for a pulse. None.

Very slowly, still kneeling by the corpse, she blinked and swallowed. Okay. That's... done. I've deliberately helped kill someone now.

She didn't feel like a murderer. She felt suspiciously as if she'd just done a good deed. Not like a knight rescuing a damsel sort of good deed - more a bog-standard, ordinary, cleaning up a mess you didn't make sort of good deed. Taking out the trash of the universe.

Was this how real-life good guys felt?

Quite abruptly, she stood up.

"Erm." She said. "Is everyone..." Alright? Stupid question.

In the end she reverted to silence. Glancing at Uluki and Rollick, she saw that both of them were still moving, so that was something at least. Dash had got to safety. She walked over to Julen, and silently offered him a hand up, her eyes still darting about the shadows - she'd looked herself, before the show started, of course, but it would be just like a crook to have someone waiting in the shadows in case he bought it.