Mors Funebris Chap 4 Part 2

Mors Funebris Chapter 4 Part 2
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“Thank you all for coming!” Lady Mara spoke pleasantly, her platinum tresses finely brushed in a nice compliment to her shiny horns.
“Would you all please be seated, so that this meeting can begin?” she implored to the collection of humans and Nightbreed.
All there began to try to find an appropriate spot to sit. Though, technically they were all professionals. There were always some personal animosities that couldn’t be overcome.
However all attendees were struck by the change in Mara’s attire.
 Where before she’d chosen to wear business outfits that just barely stayed on the near side of a ‘Sexy Halloween costume’. Now, she wore something much more conservative. A simple business dress and blouse that covered her arms down to her wrists. Along with no visible cleavage, and a skirt that ended at mid-calf.
Despite the change, she still carried herself with an air of nobility and self-assurance.
After she spoke, she then sat down at the head of the table. Which caused a number of her fellow meeting attendees to gasp quietly.
“Mara?” Joel piped up. “What are you doing? That’s Doctor Iron’s seat!” he sputtered. He then looked over to the still standing Arawn for an explanation.
Arawn, chose to politely ignore him, as he focused his attention on Mara instead.
 “This change,” Mara answered for him, wincing as she shifted herself in her seat. “Is because Doctor Horace has decided that I’ve progressed enough in my recovery; to return to my role as apprenticeship.”
“Such as?” Joel inquired, “Taking on Iron’s position as Director, I suppose?” He joked, as he gave her a half-smile.
 “If she is, then it must mean that Iron is thinking of retiring.” Dr. “Horace” Sulayman; a late-middle aged Egyptian human, pleasantly jibed as he leaned forward expectantly.
Mara silently glanced over at him with an amused smile.
“I’ll let Doctor Arawn answer that.” Mara explained as she shifted in her seat, and grimaced again.
“Thank you.” Arawn huffed. He then turned and spoke to everyone.
“No. Horace, I am not thinking of retirement at this time.” Arawn smiled. “However, I feel that since Mara has completed her physical therapy, it would behoove her to adopt responsibilities more public in nature.”
“Ah good. That makes sense.” Horace smiled as he relaxed into his chair.
“Ah, too bad.” Artemus contradicted with a feral grin. His yellowish eyes made for a stark contrast to his grey fur.
“Because I’d say that the Foundation’s overdue for some fresh blood.”  He gibed. Which caused a couple of his neighbors to roll their eyes.
“Now before we begin.” Mara followed with a disapproving frown directed towards Art.
“I wanted to give everyone here a head’s up. Near the end of this meeting, my adopted daughter, Boto, will be joining us at my request. She will be here for the express purpose of playing host to a Tea Party.”
“What?!” Artemus demanded, one ear cocked back in confusion.
“Ummm, Ok?” Joel asked, “Why?”
“The reasons for it will be forthcoming.” Mara hinted. “But for now, I ask that you all please indulge me in this.” Mara replied, then pursed her lips and made a reproving tap on one of her horns.
“Oh, and one other thing.” She continued. “I would also ask that everyone please hold off on drinking your tea. At least until after, Boto has finished serving everyone.”
“Why is that?” Horace asked, confused.
“There is something I wish to get your opinion of as soon as possible, after you’ve sampled your portion.”
“I can get behind that.” Juanita, an attractive young Latina dressed in an LA EMS uniform, noted.
“On that note.” Mara stated, “Let’s get this meeting started.” She said as she shifted her attention to one of the humans.
“Ellen Venandi, your report please?” She asked. to a tall muscular human with faded red hair.
“Thank you.” Venandi replied stiffly, a tall muscular human with faded red hair stood up. Like Horace and Joel, she was dressed in a three piece suit.
“I assume everyone here remembers the ‘John-Doe’ that was discovered by the recovery crew outside the ruins of the Security office?” she asked sadly. Upon seeing everyone there nodding their head, she continued.
“I regret to inform you all. The coroner has confirmed our worst fears. According to their report, that person was identified as Maximillian Hugo; Hunter, Doctor, and first in charge of the Foundation Infirmary.”
“Sadly, this brings the official tally of our dead, to ninety-eight.” She finished wearily, which elicited a number of cries of dismay and disappointment from everyone there.
“Apparently,” Venandi continued, “his death-wounds were consistent with the accompanying Nightbreed’s teeth and claws. Since that one, resists identification. I think we can safely assume that he was one of Grendel’s henchmen.” She grimaced sadly, and then sat down.
 “Thank you, Venandi.” Mara replied somberly. “I ask for a moment of silence in remembrance of Max and his accomplishments.” She asked. All there bowed their heads for several seconds. After which Mara sighed.
“With that news, I will see to it that he receives the standard Hunter-cremation, followed by an appropriate Memorial service. Dr. Horace, as second in charge,…?” she began.
“Yes!” Horace interrupted apologetically. “I think I know where you’re going. I would ask that we hold off on any promotions for now.” He didn’t quite beg.
“As you wish Doctor.” She replied quietly.
“I do have a question?” Horace inquired as he faced Venandi. “Has anyone given his son the news yet?”
“Not as far as I’m aware? No.” she replied. Horace turned to face Mara.
“Then I request that I be allowed to. I might be able to soften the blow for him, a bit.”
“Please do.” Mara thanked him, tears welling.
“Thank you.” He replied tiredly and then he sighed.
“However, since I am now the center of attention,…?” He said as he looked to Mara questioningly. She nodded.
“I am pleased to report, that the Infirmary has finally managed to eliminate the last vestige of that vile ‘Gakkanath contagion’. Apparently, it’s ‘Achilles Heel’ was holy water.”
“Catholic Holy Water, I assume?” Arawn asked.
“Actually, no.” Horace shook his head. “Shinto of all things.”
“Interesting.” Joel exclaimed. “Doctor Iron? I’ve been meaning to ask you. What exactly is a Gakkanath? I’ve done some research, and I’ve yet to uncover anything concerning it or its name.”
“Was a Gakkanath.” Arawn corrected him. “The evidence suggests it was once a Nephilim.” he inquired.
“Nephilim?!” Joel shot back, surprised. “if my memory serves me correctly. All lore mentions that both pre- and post-flood Nephilim were rendered extinct.”
“Indeed. That much is true.” Arawn nodded agreeably.
“Then what was it? A descendent of an Anakim or Rephaim?”
“Negative, those tribes have also met the same fate.”
“Then what?” Joel demanded testily.
“Your Hunter lore has a willful blind spot.”
“And that is?”
“Necromancy.”
“WHAT!” Joel yelled shrilly as he jumped to his feet, his mouth opening and closing fish-like. “You’re telling me that someone created a Lich out of a Nephilim?” he asked, shocked.  Arawn shook his head somberly.
“Not precisely, Nephilim no. Just the head of one.”
“But that would take an unconscionable amount of life-energy! Scores, no hundreds of lives!”
“Apparently, it did.” Arawn replied quietly. He looked around and noticed that he held the rapt attention of everyone else there. He turned to address them all.
“From what I have been able to uncover. The Gakkanath’s unknown Necromancer-Creator?  He resorted to sacrificing many ancient Native American tribes; the Jaredites being the most notable.”
“Hunter lore makes no mention of this. Where did you get it?” Joel demanded.
“From an unabridged copy of the original Book of Mormon. Apparently Joseph Smith did in fact translate it, in its entirety.”
“Did it mention the name of the Necromancer?”
“Negative. The name of that one has been lost to the mists of time. Apparently, in his effort to stabilize that abomination, he accidentally ended up as its first victim.”
“Good God! That’s disgusting! I hope that ‘Gakkanath’ was the only one created?” Joel spat.
“I hope so as well.” Arawn replied quietly, as he refused to make eye contact with him.
“What?!” Joel demanded aghast, but a wave from Mara prevented him from continuing.
“With all due respect Joel. We’ve gotten off topic. I suggest that the two of you continue this discussion after the meeting.”’ Mara said pointedly.
“Uh, yes Ma’am” Joel swallowed, as he glanced back at Arawn fearfully. “My apologies.”
“Quite all right.” She replied. “Juanita? Your report please?”
“Thanks Boss.” Juanita smiled, “Even though the vast majority of our Nightbreed escaped injury from the attack. Those who relocated, are reluctant to return. Mostly, their concerns are about how easy it was for Grendel and his cohorts to infiltrate the complex undetected.”
“Understandable.” Mara replied, frowning as she shifted herself in her chair again.
“Actually!” Jo Chasseuse, a young Hunter who was Venandi’s assistant, piped up.
“My report is about that very thing.” She beamed happily as she looked to Mara for permission to begin.
“That’s good to hear Jo. I look forward to hearing all about it, once your turn comes up. Juanita, is there anything else?”
“Not much more than that. The relocates are willing to return, once there is some progress in addressing that vulnerability.” She replied.
“Thank you, Juanita. Please proceed Jo.” Mara waved encouragingly at the Hunter.
Jo Chasseuse nodded her thanks, and then reached over and produced a valise. From it, she pulled out what appeared to be a leather belt, that was covered with sigils and runes.
“This!” she exclaimed, as she laid out the overly large bandolier on top of the meeting room table. “Is how they were able to infiltrate, largely unnoticed.”
“A belt?” Juanita asked, dubious.
“Not just a belt.” Jo replied indulgently, “Observe.” She stated as she took out a box with two wires leading from it.
She then attached the bare far ends of the wires, to two spots on the belt. Once she double-checked her connections, she poised a thumb above the box’s single button.
“This belt was pulled from the body of one of Grendel’s goons.” She informed, and then pushed the button. The results were rather spectacular.
Suddenly, in the spot where the belt had sat, sprouted a large man-shaped shadow. Near the top of the shadow, were a pair of red dots that looked balefully out at everyone else there.
“What in the Holy Hell!?” demanded Artemus as he jumped to his hind paws An action echoed by nearly everyone else there.
“What is that thing?” Demanded Horace, as he backed away from it. Whereas Arawn stood up and cautiously approached the Shadow. As he did, it turned and faced him.
“Woah!” Jo Chasseuse exclaimed when she saw Arawn.
“That’s new! Normally, they just stand there placidly.”
“Really?” Arawn asked, as he smiled knowingly.
“Uhhhh, yeah.” Jo sputtered, blinking in surprise.
“As near as we can tell, Grendel’s people managed to duplicate a Shadow-kith both in form and function.” Jo, explained. “It acts like a ‘cloak’ when it’s bearer activates the belt.”
“What can we do to counter it?” Juanita demanded.
“Not much right now, I’m afraid.” Jo conceded. “However, now that we know their method of infiltration; gives us an edge. We were hoping that Dr. Iron could lend us a hand in that regard.”
“Of course.” Arawn remarked absentmindedly, as he extended a hand towards the Shadow. Once his hand got within a foot of it, it reacted by swiping at his hand with one of its own.
“Careful Sir!” warned, amazed at the Shadow’s reaction.
“Why is that?”  Arawn asked over his shoulder.
“Anyone who contacts one of the pseudo-Shadow-Kith? Will find themselves drained of a good portion of their lifeforce. Which is why I had to activate it remotely.” Jo informed, as she lifted her control box significantly.
“Well, based on my preliminary examination.” Arawn stated as he wove his hand around the Shadowman. As he did, it did its best to avoid his touch. “Tells me that this is not a pseudo-Shadow-kith.”
“Then what is it?” Jo demanded, confused.
“Lady Mara, if you would?” Arawn evaded, as he motioned for her to join him. Reluctantly, she did as he bade. Once she took his place, the Shadow calmed down.
“Try to touch it.” Arawn suggested. Mara gave him a questioning look, but didn’t reply. Then, when Mara reached out a tentative hand towards the Shadow, it bent over to ‘sniff’ at her hand once. Then, it bowed to her.
“What in the nine Hells?” Jo gaped then.
“Arawn is correct.” Mara stated sadly. “It is NOT a pseudo-anything. It IS a Shadow-Kith.” She cried, distressed.
“How on earth did anyone manage to create this,…this,…?” she began, but stumbled when she tried to find the correct word.
“Abomination?” Arawn suggested. Mara glanced over to snap at him, stopped and thought about it.
“Yes,” She nodded, “It is abominable what’s been done to it.” She stated angrily. She turned to Jo.
“Are there more?” she demanded.
“Yes, many more.” Jo replied, “One bandolier each for those found or captured.”
“I believe I can help with this.” Mara stated. Jo nodded.
“But it will come at a price. Once this is over, I want your word that every one of the Shadow-Kith be freed. From this day forward no one, absolutely NO-ONE in the Hunter community will be allowed to use this magic ever again.”
“Of course.” Jo replied. “When can we get started?” she asked.
“I’ll let you know after the meeting. There are number of other things I will need to address prior. Speaking of which.” She stated as she returned to her seat.
“Ash Sealgair, your report please?” she asked, as Jo Chasseuse deactivated the Shadow-belt and returned it to her valise.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Ash, a human but not a Hunter, stated as he got to his feet.
“As stated in previous reports, the two surviving members of Grendel’s team; still refuse to answer any questions we’ve put,… “ he began.
“HA!” Artemus chuffed then. “That wouldn’t be a problem if you had handed them over to a Nightbreed, instead!” Artemus grinned widely.
“Ahem!” Ash cleared his throat, to cover what he really wanted to say. “With all due respect,,,Sir!” He growled.
“We’ve already given you two of the four. Have the people on your side managed to elicit any information?”
“No.” Artemus growled disdainfully. “We have not. The ones you gave us were too weak to withstand a reasonable amount of torture.”
“They were your fellow Nightbreed.” Ash pointed out.
“Wounded Nightbreed!”  Artemus glared. “Yours were merely unconscious when you obtained them.”
“Ours are human. I doubt they’d withstand ANY ‘reasonable torture’ you’d apply.”
“PAH!” Artemus huffed as he waved a paw dismissively, “Those were the actions of one overly enthusiastic torturer. I assure you it will not happen again.” Artemus chuffed.
“Indeed! It will not!” Mara snapped as she got to her feet and leaned over the table towards the Werewolf.
“I refuse to hand them over to you! You’ll have to do better than your usual empty promises, Artemus!” she shot back. In reaction, Art’s eyes flared and his hackles raised as he got to his hindpaws and leaned menacingly back in Mara’s direction.
He growled lowly in his throat then, as his lips peeled slightly back from his teeth.
“How dare you!” Mara shouted, as she stretched out and enlarged her wings until her wing claws scraped the walls alongside her.
With her wings at full extension, all there could see the patchwork of scar tissue, furrows, and innumerable holes that peppered Mara’s wings.
 “Are you challenging my authority?” she demanded crossly. Artemus held her gaze for a moment. When he became aware of the state of her wings. His eyes widened.
“Uh No, Madame!” Artemus replied, suddenly cowed.
“I apologize for my unseemly behavior.” He bowed. “Please forgive me.” He begged meekly. Mara continued to stare back at him balefully for several long seconds, as the room around them remained quiet.
“I forgive you.” She said finally. “This time.” She said coldly, as she began shrugging her wings.
As she did, they transformed down from an immensity into a merely enlarged. Then, after two or three more shrugs, they returned to their normally diminutive size, which she then hid behind her back.
“Great Ra, Lady Mara.” Horace began, astonished. “It amazes me every time you’ve done that. Where do you hide all of the extra mass?” he asked.
“My answer remains the same Doctor.” She smiled fondly, “It’s a family trait. Of which I’ll not reveal any more.”
“Fair enough.” Horace conceded, with a sigh and a shake of his head.
“Now, if we could allow Ash to continue?” Mara asked as she turned to him.
“Thank you.” He replied, “However, we have had some luck. We managed to trace some fingerprints from the older detainee.”
“What have you found?”
“According to the records, it seems that he ‘died’ in an Asylum for the criminally insane, thirty years ago.”
“That is odd.” Arawn frowned.
“Indeed sir. The amazing part? He was dumbfounded when we referred to him by that old name. We’re still waiting for a copy of his F.B.I. record. Whom as we both know, are notoriously slow in providing same.”
“Perhaps, I need to pull in a favor from my contact in their Violent Crimes Section?” Arawn mused aloud.
“Who would that be, Sir?” Ash asked.
“Agent-in-Training Kit Mulder.” Arawn replied. Ash nodded and smiled.
“I’m done, Ma’am.” Ash finished as he sat down.
“Joel, you’re up next. Do you have anything to report?” Mara inquired.
“As a matter of fact, I do. Though I have to amend it with a warning.”
“Why is that?”
“It involves Huey.”
“Huey.” Mara frowned, as she let out an annoyed hiss. “Understood, proceed.” She ordered.
“Thank you.” Joel stated as he got to his feet. As he did he held up a betamax tape.
“Despite the destruction caused by the explosions and the invading force. We were able to eventually recover, and enhance some of the surviving footage from Security Central.”
“This is a duplicate recording from the day in question.” He said as he walked over to the video player and popped the cartridge in.
“What we have here, is the earliest recorded evidence of Shadow-kith in the complex. Note the time stamp.” Joel pointed, when the video finally started to play.
All there watched, as a black and white camera panned from the left to the right of some pavement. After a second, a Shadow-kith appeared to the right marching double-time to the left. A dozen more of the same followed it.
“I see the time. Yes, it’s a good ten minutes before the explosion.” Mara stated. “What of it?”
“Wait for it, and you’ll begin to understand.” Joel replied cryptically. As he did, the camera finished its panning. At the apex, it showed that the Shadow-Kith had exited from a delivery van.
“Great Maker!” Arawn shouted as he stood up angrily. “The Motor Pool!” he growled.
“Indeed.” Joel nodded. “As near as we can tell, this is where they originated from. Additionally, if I may point out, Sir. It also says a great deal more about Huey and his motivations. Doesn’t it?”
“What?! I don’t understand!” Artemus snapped. “How is this supposed to involve that blasted coward?” He demanded angrily. Mara raised a hand asking for patience. Artemus took a few seconds to calm himself down.
Mara began to explain.
“As you know, Huey was my body guard at the time. I found it odd that even before the attack began. He was fixated on having me accompany him to the Motor Pool.” She seethed.
“Then immediately after the explosions. When he should’ve been ushering me to my safety area. He was adamant, almost forceful, on taking me there.” She growled as she pointed to video feed.
“Now in the light of this video. I begin to comprehend his real motivations.” Mara stormed, as her eyes began to glow an angry red. Artemus butted in.
“I’ve read the reports, and your account, Madame. I fail to see what the problem is. As I recall, the Motor Pool was located well away from both explosion sites.” Artemus pointed out.
“What your report failed to mention,” Joel interrupted, “Is that Mara had been designated: ‘Primary-Target’ by Grendel’s forces.”
“What?! You purposely withheld information?” Artemus demanded, shaking with outrage.
“Indeed, we have!” Joel sneered. “And for good reason. As your current reaction demonstrates.”
“I resent your implication!” Artemus barked back, as his hackles began to raise again.
“HOLD ON!” Mara shouted. “Calm down! Both of you. Let’s not let this drive a wedge between us!” She chided. After several seconds both Hunter and Werewolf, calmed himself down.
“I admit that this angers me.” She began, “But even as it may, it’s still circumstantial. We don’t have any direct evidence that pins him to our attackers.”
“Then allow me to confront him! If it turns out he is involved, then I will avenge us all!” Artemus demanded.
“Precisely my point! If you did that, then we’d lose out on any vital intelligence we could glean from him.”
“Then what do you suggest Madame?!” Artemus chuffed in exasperation!
“You wish to curry favor? Then give me twenty-four hours. I guarantee to you by then, I will have something that will satisfy all of you!” She promised.
“Twenty-four hours?” Artemus grumbled.
“Yes.” She nodded.
“Very well then, I will do as you request.” He replied, mollified. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes actually. There is still the matter of Boto’s desire to serve Tea. If everyone would please take your seats?” Mara stated as she clapped her hands twice loudly.
At the sound of the claps died away. The meeting room doors opened, and in came a pair.  The first was a smiling Boto, Mara’s adopted Vadhagh daughter. She was primly dressed in her finest pinafore and blouse.
Assisting her was Arawn’s physically plain looking secretary, Ms. Augustine, who pushed in a laden teacart.
Once inside, all there patiently waited as Boto and Ms. Augustine distributed each a teacup and saucer. Since Boto’s head barely cleared the top of the table, she had to place their sets directly into their hands, or paws.
Once done, Boto retrieved her teapot from the teacart. Then she stood herself next to Mara. She curtsied once, to indicate her readiness to begin.
Mara contemplated her choice for a moment.
“I’ll take some Prisoner’s Fruit tea, please.” As she glanced over at Juanita with a wicked smile. She held her tea set low enough for Boto to reach.
Boto returned that smile with a much more innocent one, as she poured some steaming hot clear-red liquid into Mara’s teacup.
As the aroma of her tea filled the air, it caught everyone’s attention. Artemus took a sniff and then expelled it quickly with a snort.
Without a pause, Boto went to Arawn and curtsied for him.
“Some gunpowder tea for me, please.” He asked quietly. This time Boto’s teapot liquid was a clear dark brown. It emitted only a slight amount of steam, along with the acrid scent of recently discharged black-gunpowder when he stirred it with a spoon. Which caused his neighbors to raise a questioning eyebrow.
When Artemus took a sniff of his, he didn’t snort. instead he looked confused, yet thoughtful. Despite his obvious impatience, he chose to keep himself silent.
One by one, everyone there made a different request for tea. Each was confused when their choice of liquid poured from the same teapot.
 During all this, Arawn noticed when Mara got a mischievous smile on her face. He then glanced over at Juanita and waited.
Within a few seconds, he noticed her jump slightly. After a moment, she gave Mara a knowing smile.
‘Children.’ Arawn huffed to himself, as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the lover’s play he just witnessed.
By then, it was Artemus’ turn. So, he decided to have a little fun.
“Blood. Fresh.” He grinned as he lowered his cup to her. Completely assured that Boto wouldn’t be able to comply. All there enjoyed the sight of his face falling when Boto poured a thick red liquid into his cup.
After that, Boto went to the head of the table and handed her teapot to Ms. Augustine. Who then placed it atop the teacart. Boto then turned and faced Mara expectantly.
“Thank you Boto. You may go.” Mara said as she bowed her head in thanks. To which Boto, curtsied and beamed at everyone there. All within that room remained silent as Boto and Ms. Augustine exited.
“Drink up!” Mara exclaimed as she lifted her cup in salute, and took a sip. Everyone else took their cue and hesitantly did the same.
“What in the,…” Horace exclaimed as he held his cup underneath his nose and sniffed. “Great Ra! It is Egyptian Rooibos!” he said surprised, after he took a sip. “How can this be?”
“What about you Artemus? How does your ‘blood’ taste? Human I suppose?” Joel asked.
“Lamb’s blood.” Artemus corrected him with a glare, “I was thinking of the same when I made my request.”
“That’s strange. I was thinking of a particular Earl’s Grey and that’s precisely what I got.” Joel replied, as he mimicked Horace. “What about you Iron?”
 “When I requested my gun-powder tea, I was contemplating the particular stench of a bolt-action Palmer carbine. A weapon not used since the American Civil war.” He replied thoughtfully. “Which is precisely what I have received. Fascinating.” He turned to address the rest.
 “Is it safe to assume that everyone else has had a similar outcome?” Arawn inquired. Everyone else nodded his or her agreement.
“So. We have a mystery.” Arawn began.
“Perhaps she has a form of Fairy Magic?” Horace suggested.
“If it were, then a small chunk of cold iron would’ve dispelled it.” Arawn stated as he held up his spoon.
“Which this is. So, no. Now, if you would all please indulge me? I would examine the remainder of your portions.” He said as he stood up and visited each one there.
“Well, Iron, judging by the hand passes you’re using. I’m assuming that you’re using an inspection form of Magic.” Joel stated.
“You are correct, Joel.” He stated, but didn’t add anything else until he finished his inspection trip around the table.
Arawn was preoccupied the most with Artemus’ cup of blood. After which, he retrieved Boto’s teapot. Opened it, and then held it upside down. Not so much as a drop of anything came out. Arawn sighed and then sat down.
“My conclusion,” he began. “is that Boto did not use magic with our respective drinks.”
“But that’s impossible!” Joel piped up. “She produced several varieties of something.”
“Yes, she did. However, I seek to eliminate the impossible. Therefore, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”
“If Boto had conjured up those libations, then each one should’ve left some form of residue either inside the teapot.”  Arawn stated.
“Or each of us would have some cross contamination from the previous serving. I did not detect so much as a hint of Prisoner Fruit in my Gunpowder. Did anyone else?” He asked. Everyone shook their head.
“No liquid? Then that rules out transmutation of water into,… whatever.”  Jo Chasseuse pointed out. Arawn nodded in agreement.
“What about Transubstantiation? Creating something from nothing?” Juanita suggested.
“That is easily verifiable. Artemus, if you would be so kind? Please pass your cup to Lady Mara?” Despite the oddness of Arawn’s request, Artemus did so.
“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” Mara asked as she held the cup up for all to see.
“Do you feel any ill-effects?” Arawn asked, mystified.
“No.” she replied.
“Then that rules that out. Since it invariably requires an invocation from a sanctified individual.”
“Bleh!” she cringed as she rapidly dropped the cup. As it clattered noisily onto the table in front of her, she gave Arawn an aggrieved glare. He ignored it.
“All fair and good, Iron. What’s the big deal about finding out how Boto did what she did?” Horace asked.
“Let me back up. There is a pattern to Grendel’s actions. I hope to discover, what it is he is attempting to accomplish.”
“It should be obvious. We know he has no desire for a future in which Humans and Nightbreed get along.” Artemus sneered.
“The very future the Iron Foundation has been working towards for decades.” Horace added.
“That is what he has stated. I am interested in his actions. To wit; Why did he attack the Vadhagh? Why did he choose to kill Boto’s parents? Along with every remaining male Vadhagh?” Arawn speculated.
“Have you tried asking the Vadhagh survivors?”  Juanita queried. Arawn turned to her.
“Many times, yes. Unfortunately, they have all chosen to, as the locals say, ‘keep their mouths shut’. Pardon the pun.”
“Huh? What pun? I don’t get it.” She looked puzzled. Mara jabbed her with the tip of her tail.
“Vadhagh are telepaths.” Mara whispered.
“Oh, that’s right. I forgot, duh!” Juanita smirked.
“Or perhaps Grendel is just an animal who likes to lash out.” Joel interjected.
“I disagree.” Arawn shot back. “He plots, he plans, and he allows for alternative actions. What about the guile he demonstrated with capturing and manipulating the Shadow-Kith?” He asked. Joel couldn’t come up with a reply.
“No, what I surmise is that he has an endgame in mind. I believe that what we just witnessed with Boto, is part of it.”
“What do you mean?” Horace asked.
“I believe that her ability to dispense a person’s choice of tea is a harbinger of a future ability.”
“Which is?” Mara asked.
“Portal Manipulation.” Arawn stated. “Even though she is only fifty years old, a child by Vadhagh standards. She is already advanced enough to create portals to,…wherever it is,…she gains access to and dispense those libations.”
“Hmmmm.” Horace mused.
“Yes?”
“That would fit in with a fabled Vadhagh ability.” Horace piped in.
“That being?” Arawn asked.
“According to the most ancient Egyptian legends. The Goddess Aput could travel between worlds, to deliver messages for other Gods.”
“I do not understand the reference.”  Arawn begged.
“Aput, amongst her other characteristics, was also known for her pinkish gold flecked skin. Sound familiar?” Horace grinned.
“Indeed.” Arawn grinned back.
“But what does all that have to do with the ‘Primary Target’?” Artemus demanded.
“Hello! Excuse me! I’m right here!” Mara exclaimed.
All heads turned to face her. Once she had everyone else’s attention, she continued.
“It should be obvious! Arawn has not bothered to hide either my origin, or my status as daughter of my mother the Great Maou.” She huffed as she turned to Arawn.
“Didn’t you state that in a previous raid, he managed to capture The Chalice?”
“Indeed, he did.” Arawn replied thoughtfully. “That cannot be a coincidence.”
“The Chalice? What’s that?” Horace demanded.
“It is the primary artifact that allows, excuse me. Allowed me ready communication with my benefactor; Lady Mara’s mother.”
“If he’s gotten ahold of it? Then wouldn’t that mean he’s now in communication with her?” Horace quizzed him.
“I highly doubt it. Even for all of his craft and guile. He would require an ability he has not demonstrated yet.” Arawn replied deadpan. No one noticed when Mara hid her knowing smile. Arawn continued.
“Now, to conclude. I would surmise that Grendel’s ultimate desire is to gain some measure of control over the Gateway. Apparently, he feels he can accomplish this by kidnapping Mara.” Arawn stated.
“Naturally,” Mara continued for him, “we cannot allow that. Therefore, I ask that all of you please continue with what you’ve been doing.”
“We will meet here tomorrow at the usual time, with the express purpose of confronting Huey. Does anyone here have any questions, gripes, or complaints? No?” she waited, no one answered. “Then you are all dismissed.”
Everyone there left, all save Dr. Horace. Taking note of his reticence, both he and Mara waited until the room had emptied before speaking.
“Dr. Horace, I take it there is something you wish to discuss in private?” Mara asked.
“Uh, yes. There is, but it’s with Iron if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.” She said as she grabbed ahold of her walking cane, and then hobbled herself outside.
“Yes Horace?” Arawn asked, after the door had closed.
“Uhhh, I know I’ve been talking about quitting smoking for some time. So, I’m going to go ahead and take the plunge.” Horace said as he produced his box of ‘Coffin-nails’. He then slid the box across the meeting table towards Arawn. Who caught it before it slid off.
“Is there something wrong with them?” Arawn asked as he gingerly accepted them.
“With them? No there isn’t. With me? Yes.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s rather embarrassing.” Horace hesitated. Then he heaved out a disappointed sigh.
“I got stupid.” He replied, and then noticed Arawn’s face. “Don’t say it!” he shot back indignantly as he pointed a finger at him.
Arawn raised his hands in silent surrender, all the while trying to suppress his cheeky smile. Horace huffed once before continuing.
“I lit one up,…in front of Mara…” he explained, shamefacedly.
“Oh?” Arawn replied, confused. “Oh!” he replied once comprehension took ahold. “Oh my!”
“Yeah.” Horace growled, mostly at himself, “She didn’t react well. I should’ve known better than to produce a flame, in front of someone traumatized by same.”
“So, in order to avoid the same stupidity in the future. I’m taking the plunge. I appreciate the enjoyment I’ve had with them, but it’s well past the time for me to quit.”
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Later, as Arawn exited the meeting room, Mara was waiting for him in his office.
“Arawn?” she asked tremulously as she sat in the couch facing his desk. Her cane leaning against it.
 “How did I do? Meeting wise?”  Arawn smiled indulgently as he came over and sat in a chair next to her.
“I would say, that you comported yourself rather well for your first time. However, when Joel and I got involved in that discussion about the Gakkanath? I would’ve recommended getting on ‘back on track’ sooner.”
“I’ll do better.”
“Of course, you will.” Arawn stated matter-of-factly. Which left Mara feeling slightly giddy. “Though I must compliment you on your handling of Artemus’ challenge.”
“Thank you. I take it I didn’t show too much fear?”
“None at all.” Arawn replied dismissively. Then he frowned.
“I did notice that you seemed rather fidgety in your chair this morning.” He asked. Mara looked away and seemed to wilt.
“I’m still dealing with the withdrawal symptoms.” She muttered, “I don’t suppose I could get at least one Black-Lotus pill, to take the edge off?”
“I am afraid not. Such would only prolong your withdrawal. I know it can be hard Mara. But trust me when I say that breaking an addiction is well worth the pain.”
“Have you ever withdrew from something this powerful?”
“Yes I have, many, many times.” He replied somberly.
“Well, there is one good aspect about it.” She mumbled.
“That is the Spirit!” He smiled. “What is it?”
“I’ve discovered that not only am I more sensitive to pain, I’m also much more sensitive to pleasure. In fact,..” she began.
“I will take your word for it!” He interrupted her quickly, as he held his hands in front of him in surrender. “Now, is there anything else? If not, there is much I have to deal with today.” He said as he stood up.
“Actually, there is.” Mara replied softly.
“Yes?” Arawn asked. Mara didn’t speak, instead she held out her hand.
“What do you want?” Arawn asked as he looked at it, perplexed.
“Your hand.” She whispered, while looking at him tentatively.
“What?” he asked confused.
“Please.” She implored.
“Very well.” He sighed, as he placed one of his hands atop hers. When he made contact, Mara enveloped his one hand with both of hers. Then, she did something he totally didn’t expect.
She kissed his hand and pressed it to her chin. Then she bowed her head over it and sighed, all the while not letting go.
“Uh?” Arawn asked, confused and embarrassed. “Mara? What are you doing?” He asked as he tried to retrieve his hand.
“Thank You.” She sniffled once, still not letting go.
“For what?” he replied, as he tried to pull harder. She resisted. “Mara!” he began….
“Tertius.” She replied. Arawn stopped his tugging, shocked.
“What?” he asked, a note of suspicion in his voice. “What are you talking about?” She finally unbowed her head and looked at him, tears in her eyes.
“Stinker told me what you did.” She replied softly. Arawn sighed and then he sat down next to her on the couch.
“FAEX!” he huffed. “I did not think her capable of remembering those details, what with her drug induced haze.” He complained.
“May I have my hand back now?” he inquired. Mara shook her head.
“You sacrificed a lot. Just for me. Why?” She asked. Arawn opened his mouth, thought about it, then closed it without saying a word.
“Is it because of Takana?” she dared. He jerked his face to her, his eyes glowing white for a second. Then they faded as he relaxed.
“Negative.”
“Remember Victoria’s daughter’s announcement party?”
“Do not remind me.” Arawn sighed as he wiped his forehead with his free hand. Mara smiled mischievously for a moment. Then her face fell.
“I wish I could go back in time and change what happened.” She said softly as she squeezed his hand. He looked back at her, embarrassed. Then he looked away.
“We were both different then. I doubt that we would have gotten along, for long.”
“Still.” She whispered, then she smiled mischievously again and added, “Papa.” She giggled. Arawn sighed and gave her a long-suffering look.
“I do not suppose, I will get the chance to ever live this down?” he asked. Mara smiled again, opened her mouth as she began to nod. Then she quickly shook her head.
“Of course not!” she grinned. Then her face melted into a sorrowful one as she stared longingly at him. He refused to meet her gaze.
“Why?” she asked. “You know what I’m asking.”
“Hand please.” He demanded softly. Mara refused to let go.
“If you wish an answer, the toll will be my hand.” He replied. Mara sighed then and reluctantly let him go.
“Thank you.” He whispered hoarsely. Then he was silent for the longest while.
“Hey!” Mara said, nudging him. “You promised.” She reminded him. Arawn huffed good-naturedly.
“Well you seem to be in a good mood today. Considering your interaction with Juanita in the meeting room, is it safe to assume she is receptive to being more than friends?”
“I don’t know.” Mara replied as she turned her head away to hide her triumphant leer. Once she got it under control, she turned back, “She’s waffling.” She sighed dramatically.
“She said she’ll give me answer later today.”
“Well I wish you the best of luck then.” Arawn smiled.
“Thanks.” She smiled back. “Now c’mon, quit stalling. Your promise?” she reminded him archly.
He thought about it for a bit and then he turned to her and opened his mouth.
“A long time ago,..” he began.
“In a galaxy far, far away!” she injected mischievously.
“Mara.” He reproved her sternly, glaring.
“I’m Sorry!” she lied. Then she calmed herself down. After another moment’s pause, and annoyed frown, he tried again.
“In the galaxy we are in now,…” he paused, Mara kept her mouth shut with some difficulty. He continued.
“I once had a daughter.” He began sadly,…and couldn’t keep going.
“I imagine you’ve adopted many!” she replied. He looked over at her with a half-smile and nodded once.
“Yes. I have.” He sighed again. “But this one was different.”
“How?”
“Her name was, Yeye Ambaye Anasubiri.”
“That’s an interesting name. Does it mean anything?”
“Yes it does.” He smiled fondly.
“So,…tell me!” she demanded as she punched him in the shoulder.
“Perhaps, one day I will. Assuming you can get me both intoxicated and maudlin enough to do so.” He smiled as he got to his feet.
“Hey!” she cried, frustrated. “Come on!” She demanded. Arawn merely smiled at her as he went back to his desk and sat down.
“Damn it!” she growled.
“Language!” he reproved. “I have work to do, so if you do not have anything,…” he began.
“Actually I do.” She admitted. “It’s kinda embarrassing. I don’t want you to get angry if I say it.”
“So what is it you wish to say? I promise that I will not ‘bite your head off’, as the locals put it.”
“I’ve wanted to ask you something important.”
“And that is?”
“It involves your signature abilities: The Blast-Punch and the Shield-Buckler.”
“What about them?”
“Is it possible for you to teach them to someone else?”
“Hypothetically, yes. Why do you ask?”
“Because of what happened down in the Atrium.” She sighed. “I feel that I could’ve been more productive down there, had I’d been able to do what you’re capable of.”
“Using the Shield-Buckler ability to protect yourself and the cubs? As opposed to your wings?”
“That too. Yes. Also because of what you said in the meeting. That Grendel seems determined to kidnap me. I would prefer a more active role in prevention, as opposed to being a casual bystander.”
“That seems understandable. However, such abilities are something that carries a long-term responsibility. I would have to weigh the pros and cons for a while, before making a final,…” Arawn replied, but something happened.
Both he and Mara’s attention was diverted when the door to his personal rooms opened up.
“What the?” he began as he stood up abruptly and activated his the aforementioned abilities. Mara, naturally stood behind him, just in case it was a surprise attack.
From out of his rooms, stepped,….
Himself.
There stood another copy of Arawn, seemingly dazed.
“Fascinating.” Arawn stated undramatically, as he deactivated both his Shield-Buckler and his Blast-Punch. As he did, his doppelganger noticed and focused his attention on him.
“Secundus? Is that you?” Mara inquired gleefully.
“Evitagen!” The new Arawn replied, shaking his head.
“Negative!” the old Arawn replied, also shaking his head. “What is going on?!” he demanded of his doppelganger.
“Siseretsyh Laropmet!” the New Arawn stated.
“What did he say?” Mara demanded.
“Temporal Hysteresis.”
“Try again. That didn’t clear up anything up.”
“Stand by!” Old Arawn stated. He then held up one arm and invoked, “Tempus Tunc E Converso!” After he did, the new Arawn seemed to ‘shift’.
“Ah much better!” New Arawn stated. “I thank you.” He nodded.
“So, what’s going on?” Mara demanded. “If you’re not Secundus, then who are you exactly? Quartus, Tertius, Quintus?” she asked. To which the new Arawn shook his head to all.
“Then who then?” she demanded.
“I am not a Not-brother. Rather, I am he.” New Arawn stated as he pointed to the Old Arawn. Who nodded in agreement.
“I know that is possible because of his Not-brothers,…” She began.
“I assure you Mara,” The New Arawn interrupted, “that this situation is different from that. Consider me to be a temporally displaced version of him.” The New Arawn stated. Mara gaped and turned her head to look questioningly at the Old Arawn.
“Patience Mara, if we allow the New ‘Me’ to explain, I would imagine it would rapidly become clearer.”
“Indeed. Lady Mara, have you not just requested Arawn teach you his signature Blast-Punch and Shield-Buckler, yes?” New-Arawn asked. Mara, dumbfounded, nodded her head.
“You asked that approximately 7.5 hours ago, from my point of view.” New said.
“Wait! Are you claiming to be from the future?”
“Yes, and No.”
“Well you certainly sound like Arawn.” She said dryly. Both Arawns gave her a dour look.
“Ahem!” said both Arawns. “You go first.” They said in unison. “Displaced me explain then.” The Old Arawn spoke rapidly.
“Very well.” New said. “The ‘Dragon’s Rest/Chronal Compensator has/will malfunction. To maintain the temporal continuum, you will need to enter your personal apartment within the next couple of minutes. Once there, you will advance in time 3.27 hours.” He replied, Mara blinked once, as his explanation went in one ear, and out the other.
“At that point, the Tetrahedron will malfunction and your personal time will reverse for an additional 3.29 hours. At which point you/I will exit and we can have this conversation again.” The New-Arawn stated.
“Understood.” The Old-Arawn replied. “Well then.” He stated to Mara, “I will leave you in my/his/our capable hands then.” He smiled as he slipped past the New-Arawn without touching. As he opened the door, he paused and looked at the older version of him.
“You have something caught in your teeth.” Old-Arawn pointed out.
“No, I do not. But I knew that you were going to say that.” New-Arawn replied, smiling.
“Have a good rest. I know that I did.” He finished. Then without further ado, the Old-Arawn nodded and closed the doors to his personal apartments behind him.
“Ooookkkaaayyy.” Mara stated, awestruck. “I’m not sure I follow what just happened.”
“Be assured that you will, just give it,…” Arawn smiled, “Time.” He finished with a broad grin.
“Har-dee-farking-Har!” Mara shot back.
“Now, to answer your question concerning my teaching you my signature abilities. My answer is: Yes. Conditionally.”
“Conditionally? What do you mean?”
“It occurs to me that, despite your success in healing so quickly. You have yet to meet with Anishi Naabeg. The Mother of the two cubs who died. As I understand, she has requested to meet with you several times now.” Arawn stated. As he did Mara shrunk into herself.
“What am I supposed to say to her? That I did what I could for her cubs!” Mara cried nervously. “It wasn’t enough!”
“Mara. If anything else, you will get some closure. Which is more important right now.”
 “Why is it so important for me to meet her?” Mara demanded.
“The main point I am considering, is that you desire additional power, yes?”
“Yes.” Mara nodded.
“Then you should also be aware that with Great-Power. Comes a concurrent Great-Responsibility. Yes?”
“Yeah. I guess so.” Mara whined, as her tail despondently drooped to the floor.
“You have a responsibility to meet with her. You must face whatever consequences your actions have created. If you are responsible enough to at least make the attempt. Then I will be reassured that you can handle the power. Fair enough?”
 “Fair enough.” She replied. “Oh, and one other thing.” She said as she stood up with her cane and made ready to go.
“Yes?” Arawn replied.
“You really do have something in your teeth.” Mara pointed out.
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Mors Funebris Inter Lascivas. Temerata Terrae- Duo.
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After several more passion-filled hungry kisses, and caresses between Mara and Juanita. Juanita hurried out of Mara’s apartment half-dressed.
Luckily, she arrived with only seconds to spare. Much to her fellow EMS’s good-natured catcalls and razzing.
For at least an hour, after Mara heard her apartment door slam shut. She lay in her bed to savor the feel of Juanita’s Essence, as it slowly melted into her soul; For uses both necessary and naughty.
‘Patience Mara, patience.’ She reproved herself, as her vulva began to moisten at the thought of her newly acquired pet.
‘Even Heroes succumb to corruption.’ She breathed in deeply at the thought, as her hand strayed to her vulva. There she began to stroke herself idly.
‘Father did.’ She thought again, ‘Within a month, maybe two. You will be capable of consuming her juices for days, instead of a mere minute.’ Mara realized, as a sly grin sprouted across her face. Then that grin turned into a mischievous one, when an errant notion came to her mind. Quickly, she prepared herself.
‘Juanita.’ She called out mentally. She didn’t have long to wait for a reply.
‘What?! Mara? Is that you?’ Juanita yelped mentally then.
‘Yes my Pet, it is I. Your mistress.’ Mara announced, enjoying Juanita’s feelings of surprised pleasure.
‘Wha,…wha…?’ Juanita floundered. ‘How is this possible? I’m nowhere near you!’ she wondered.
‘You gave yourself to me, Remember? That, and my mark upon you allows us to communicate, no matter how far apart we are.’
‘Ooohhh.’ Juanita moaned then. ‘I really like the sound of that!’
‘As do I, my pet. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d always hear you when you called out my name.’
‘Here! Tell me if you can feel this?’ Mara asked as she gave her clitoris a good rub.’
‘Oh wow!’ Juanita breathed. ‘Uuhhhm Mistress? You made me yelp aloud! Would it be all right if we continued this later? I’m starting to get some odd looks from my coworkers.’
‘Of course my sweet!’ Mara giggled. ‘But be warned, I may have you find a private spot during your lunch break, and make you masturbate. That way I’ll be in more than just your thoughts when you come.’
‘Madre de Mara! I look forward to it!’ Juanita all but squealed then, as Mara reluctantly ended their mental conversation.
Then with a heartfelt sigh, Mara rolled out of bed and got herself up. After changing the now soaked sheets and making her bed, she took a quick shower.
Then, after toweling herself off, Mara did her best to bolster her confidence for the task that awaited her.
‘You’re long overdue to go and meet with the mother of the dead Pukwudgie twins.’ Mara reproved herself.
Haltingly, she tried on several outfits that she hoped would allow her to appear steadfast, yet not too intimidating. After an hour’s worth of putting things on and taking them off. She finally realized what she’d really been accomplishing.
“Stop it Mara,” she muttered at her nude reflection, “You’re really just procrastinating.” She sighed aloud. Then she stepped back and made an honest appraisal of herself.
 ‘Ugh.’ She decided, as she frowned at the state of her chest.
‘What was it that young Questian said about my breasts, way back when?’ she tried to remember, as she grabbed ahold of them.
‘Oh yeah.’ She recalled, ‘They’re my-cantaloupe-sized-antigravity-generators. Whatever that is.’ She sighed as she let one lie atop a flattened hand.
 ‘Damn it! Now I can’t even see the nipple anymore!’ she frowned. ‘Old woman dugs, I should throw my bras away!’ Mara’s face screwed up as she began to sniffle. After a few seconds, she tamped down her emotions.
‘Chin up, Mara! You’re still alive! That does have to be worth something, right. You’ve got Juanita to feed upon now too.’ She thought as she forced out a smile.
Then slowly, she enlarged and spread out her wings, and stood sideways before her three-way mirror. Unfortunately, the state of her wings, back, and tail weren’t any better than her chest. In fact, they were worse.
Where before what had flowed an endless expanse of flawless white skin? Now presented a massive checkerboard of skin-graft gaps, pockmarked holes, and still-reddened keloid burn-scars.
With her left hand she had to force her right wing thumb forward. With just a slight grunting effort, she managed to grab a momentary glimpse of the back of it. The very spot that a red-hot bolt had plunged into.
‘Puckered.’ She grimaced, her lower-lip quivering with grief over the loss of her physical beauty.
“Ugly!” she sobbed. “I’m ugly! WHY!” she screamed! “Why did this have to happen to me!?” she continued yelling.
“What did I do to deserve this!?” she demanded as she grabbed ahold of a nearby walking cane.
“WHO WILL FUCK AN UGLY LILIM NOW?!” she yelled at her reflection, and then she lifted and smashed the cane into the mirror in front of her.
Once! Twice! Three times!; the sound of breaking glass resounded in Mara’s bedroom as she swung that cane at her mirrors.
Ironically, every shard and chunk of glass totally missed her this time.
Then, the cane fell from her fingers as she fell to her knees. To kneel amongst the shards of mirror that now littered her carpeted floor.
“Ugly.” She moaned as she curled into a fetal position and covered her face with her hands.
“Ugly.” She whined as she began to weep an endless torrent of tears.
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An hour or so later, Mara looked down the fire stairwell that lead down to the newly rebuilt and repaired Atrium.
Even with the last dregs of Juanita’s Essence still flowing through her. She knew damned full well, that she wasn’t up to walking the full set.
But, being a Lilim, she was determined to try anyways.
‘Stubborn huh?’ She smiled humorlessly to herself, as she lowered her shaking foot down the first step and then repeated it. It only took her about five minutes to reach the next floor down.
“Damn!” She panted, when she overcorrected at one surprise spot. ‘Good thing I chose to take my walking-cane.’ She decided as she got her balance back.
‘Only six more flights to go.’ She mused, when she took a rest after the first flight.
‘But why does it feel like six hundred?’ She griped as she started again.
Then, when she reached the place where she and Huey had paused for a lust-filled kiss. She couldn’t resist the urge to grimace and spit disdainfully at the spot.
“Cowardly Bastard.” She muttered under her breath, as she slowly stepped wildly over it, despite the cost.
Eventually, an hour later. She emerged onto the appropriate floor and made much better progress towards the Atrium.
Naturally, she wasn’t alone in that hallway, so she kept her eyes glued to the floor to avoid their inevitable accusing stares.
‘Not that I’ve seen any. But they’re there.’ She sighed. ‘I know it.’

However, once or twice, she thought she’d heard those passerby say something to her.
‘Iron Maiden? What a creative insult.’ She thought as she did her best to ignore them all.
Then finally, what seemed like an eternity later. She emerged onto the floor of the newly rebuilt and refurbished Atrium. As soon as she entered, every conversation came to a halt as everyone there turned and stared at her.
‘No! Please don’t do this!’ she whimpered to herself as she fixed her gaze on the shiny new floor tiles. ‘Keep talking!’ she silently begged, desperate for anonymity again.
As she continued along, she relaxed slightly when the conversations resumed.
“Thank you.” She mumbled.
After hobbling halfway across it, she came to a halt in front of the large three-sided granite memorial monolith. Installed some time during her coma. After a moment, she began to slowly walk around it.
 ‘Hunters.’ She read the title on one side, along with a list of names, both familiar and not, who had died in the attack.
‘Hunters aren’t always Humans.’ She mentally adjusted, as she rubbed at a tear filled eye. Then she progressed to the next side.
‘Missing. Presumed Lost or Dead.’ She read with a sinking feeling. Slowly, she read the names one by one. Then, near the bottom. Her eyes widened when she saw what lay next.
“Alonzo Belushi.” She said aloud, followed by four other names.
‘Secundus’, Mara thought as her faced screwed up enough to overwhelm her control. Then she traced out each individual letter of his name with a fingertip. Strangely, it helped to calm her a bit.
She didn’t trace with Quartus, or Quintus. But she did give a nod of thanks to Tertius.
Then, after several reassuring breaths, Mara faced her fear and marched over to view the final side.
‘Nightbreed.’ She voiced internally, as a shock of fear shot down her spine. This list was shorter than the other two.
Yet it still filled her with enough trepidation to last her a lifetime. All because she could put a face to every single name.
Then, halfway down the list, her eyes halted at two entries.
“Tamisa the Lechuza, and Spotted Fawn the Teihiihan.’ Mara remembered. ‘The two Mothers who made it to Nightcubs before I did.’ She sighed.
‘Which is why I encountered only one of Grendel’s goons.’ She smiled once. ‘Instead of the dozen they tore apart before they were killed.’ She found herself admiring the ferocity of a Nightbreed protecting her cub.
Then, her eyes caught ahold of two more entries, down at the bottom.
‘Inini. Ikine.’ She read.
Then without warning, a memory of from that day welled up in her mind’s eye.
“I want my Mommy!” screamed the dirty and disheveled Pukwudgie child. With that lone memory, Mara’s veneer of control vanished.
“Ah!” she cried out, as she turned herself away from the Memorial and stumbled her way over to a nearby table.
‘Why couldn’t I save them?’ she demanded as she began to sob.
Before she knew it, she had bumped into a table. Hunching over, she latched onto it with both hands. As she did, her cane fell to the floor and clattered noisily upon the tiles.
“Damn it.” She muttered as she began to fumble at one of the surrounding chairs.
After the third attempt, she managed to pull it out enough to sit down, and covered her face with hands, as she began to sob in earnest, uncaring of the scene she was making.
“This was a mistake.” She grumbled as she began to take stock of her situation. ‘My blood sugar is too low, and I’ve spent the last of Juanita’s Essence.’ She decided as she began to shake with fatigue and shock.
Then almost like an answer to unasked prayer. She heard something plop gently in front of her head. Cautiously, she raised her head and looked.
‘What?’ she wondered, when she noticed that there was now a tall coffee cup, sitting inches from her nose.
“I hope you like it.” Came a familiar voice. “The people at the Canteen said you like Hot-Chocolate.” Confused by the kindness in the voice, Mara turned her head in the direction of the voice.
“Fantine?” she asked, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Mostly waiting for you.” Fantine replied.
“Really?,…Why?” Mara asked, perplexed, as the Rougarou mother sat herself down next to her. Then when she had, she did something Mara had never seen her do before.
Fantine smiled warmly at her!
“wha,…?’ Mara muttered, stunned. Normally, the best she could’ve expected was a tolerant patience.
“I never got a chance to say Thank You.” She whispered.
“For what?” Mara asked, confused.
“For saving my Bassette.” Fantine replied, amused, yet also sad. “You did such a wonderful thing for her, and the others…” she continued,
“Oh!” Mara realized then, what she was getting at.
“So, would you like it?” Fantine asked as she slid the cup of Hot-chocolate closer to Mara. Mara found herself smiling for some odd reason.
“Yes, I think I would.” She replied shakily, not quite making eye contact. She reached out and took ahold of the cup, as she did a small amount of aroma permeated the air in front of her nose.
Cautiously, she took a sip and then realized how hungry she was. How long it’d been since she’d indulged in one. Before she knew it, she had guzzled the contents of the cup to its last drops.
“Oh my!” Mara said, as she swayed, suddenly dizzy.
“Are you alright?” Fatine asked, concerned.
“I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile since I’ve eaten so much.” Mara apologized. Fantine looked alarmed. She then motioned to someone nearby.
After a few seconds of silence, another cup of Hot Chocolate appeared before her.
“What?” she blinked. With a slight gulp, Mara lifted her head. She felt her mouth fall open when she beheld what and who all now stood before her.
Every other of the Nightbreed mothers now stood in a semi-circle, gazing back at her.
Some of them were braver than the others and tilted their head at her in a salute. Most of them were more timid and couldn’t keep eye contact with her for more than a few seconds.
Mara found herself taken aback, when she realized that they were all looking at her, with respect.
“May we?” rumbled Ostman the Sasquatch. It was then when Mara noticed that her fur was growing back; that it was she who Arawn had blundered into.
“Uhhh,….yes?” Mara replied, dumbfounded. At which they moved in a procession to her.
“Thank you Lady Mara.” Said one as she bowed her head once. “Thank you,” echoed another, then one by one they all came forward to thank Mara.
They either all curtsied, or bowed. Once or twice one of them asked for her hand, and when Mara gave it, they insisted on placing it atop their head.
Heavily embarrassed by such treatment, it took nearly all of Mara’s self-control to keep from bolting away from such reverence.
Then at the last, came the one person she’d done her best to avoid, Anishi-Naabeg, mother of the dead twins.
The twins that Mara had somehow managed to fail.
“I’M SORRY!” Mara cried out as she jumped to her feet, then stumbled and nearly fell over. “I’m sorry!” she cried again as Anishi managed to grab ahold of her.
“Please don’t hate me!” Mara quailed, as she tried to get away. Strangely, Anishi let go of her with a confused look on her face.
“I’m sorry!” she cried, as tears of remorse began to flow down her cheeks.
“What?!” Anishi replied, shaken. Then her face changed into a ‘O’ of surprise. “Mara! No! No! No! Please don’t,…?” she asked, and then she smiled sadly.
“I’m sorry!” Mara sobbed and choked. For some reason it was all she could manage to say.
“Mara!” Anishi began again. “Mara please! Stop! Listen to me! Please?” she begged. Then she pursed her lips sorrowfully and took a step backwards. For some reason that one action got through to Mara more than anything else.
“Wha?” Mara replied, as she looked confusedly at her. “Surely you want revenge?”
“Revenge? What are you talking about?” Anishi asked, honestly perplexed.
“Your babies. Out of all the Cubs, I didn’t bring them home safely. I failed them, remember?” Mara replied guiltily in between sobs.
“Oh!” Anishi comprehended. “I understand now. You think I’m here to condemn you.” She stated.
“Aren’t you?” Mara asked, fearfully.
“No.” Anishi replied, with a shake of her head. “I’m here to thank you.”
“But why?” Mara asked, and then hiccupped.
‘Damn it!’ she thought. For some reason that little sobbing induced hiccup, caused Anishi and everyone else around her, to give off a slight titter of amusement. Which helped to calm Mara some more.
Anishi then reached out a hand. Mara stared at it tentatively.
“Please Mara, take my hand.” She asked. Tentatively, Mara did as she asked and took ahold. Slowly, carefully Anishi lovingly brought her hand to her chest and pressed it against it. Mara felt a cold metal something underneath.
“Thank you, for bringing my babies home.” Anishi said softly.
“But I failed,…” Mara began, still confused.
“NO MARA!!” Anishi interrupted, “You didn’t!” she insisted. “My babies were already dead when you found them.”
“What? I don’t understand.” Mara stated haltingly then. Anishi smiled indulgently.
“I know,” she began with a sad sigh, “that we Pukwudgies have a well-deserved reputation for being the toughest Nightbreed in existence.”
“But when we’re babies, we’re so incredibly fragile. Just the shock of the explosion alone in the Atrium, was enough to kill them. It just took them a while to die first.” She blinked then, as a tear escaped an eye.
“…..?” Mara couldn’t say anything then. She was in too much shock. Anishi smiled at her look, and then suddenly stepped forward and wrapped Mara in her arms. Mara stiffened in response.
“But because of you.” Anishi whispered into Mara’s ear. “my babies got to die in my and their father’s arms.” She swallowed.
“As opposed to them dying on the Atrium floor alone, in anguish, and begging for me to come.”  She stated as she drew herself back.
As she did she released Mara and then pulled on a chain necklace around her neck. At the end of the chain was a small brass bottle. Anishi held it up before her.
“This bottle contains their last breath. If not for you, then I’d not have this to treasure for all time. I owe you so very much, Mara. Thank you.” She smiled gratefully.
“You’re welcome.” Mara replied tearfully as she stared back.
“If there is anything I can do for you in return. Please let me know.” Anishi asked.
“Let US know.” Fantine corrected. Then every other mother there seconded that request.
At first Mara wanted to say, “No, nothing.” Then instead, she thought of something.
“Yes. Yes there is.” Mara said evenly for the first time, as her entourage looked at her expectantly.
“Tell me about your babies, the ones you lost. What were they like? What did they like? What didn’t they like? In fact, why don’t all of you tell me the same about your babies?” Mara asked, and as she looked around her group of admirers, she noticed that they all too nodded.
“Well,” Anishi smiled as she began,…
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Several hours and many more free Hot-Chocolates, later. Mara decided to take the express elevator to her floor, as opposed to the stairs. One, was that she was quite tired, and two, she felt dizzy after her sugar overload, thirdly, Juanita was going to be late, so there was no chance for Mara to take advantage of her.
At the door to her apartment, she noticed a yellow sticky note attached. Mara smiled at what she found written inside.
‘Tomorrow, we will begin, at your earliest convenience, with the Blast-Punch instructional.’ Signed-“Annwyfn Arawn”.
“heh’. Mara sighed as she opened her door, and then stopped.
“Oh damn!” she griped as she remembered the mess of mirrors that undoubtedly awaited her within.
“Well nothing for it then. Time to clean up my mess.” She grumpily decided. Then as she entered her bedroom, she was astonished to discover that not one single shred of mirror glass awaited.
Looking over her bedroom, she was even more astounded to discover that someone had either repaired or replaced her previously broken mirrors.
‘No, wait!’ she realized, as she reached up and traced a long scratch that she remembered. ‘This is the same mirror.’ She deemed.
“Arawn?” she wondered aloud. “No wait, Arawn would never violate my privacy without telling me.” She thought.
“Oh whatever!” she decided, with a short laugh. Then on a lark, she stripped and looked appraisingly at herself in the mirror. She then cupped her breasts once more.
“Well technically, Arawn did mention he was aware of a number of Physical Reconstruction spells.” She remembered.
“All I have to do is eat a bit more, until I build up enough fat, and I can easily redistribute it. Refashion myself, as I will Juanita.“ She mulled.
Then as she spread her wings, she recalled what the Nightbreed mothers had said to her just an hour ago. When they too, had requested to see her scars.
“Badges of Honor. That I should be proud of them.” Mara repeated Anishi’s heartfelt praise. As agreed upon by her fellow Nightbreed mothers.
“Well,…” Mara began as she beheld her naked form once more.
“Maybe,… not quite,… that ugly.” she conceded as one corner of her mouth rose slightly.
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