Illusion

She reached for a pocket. He instinctively reached for a gun.

He stopped short, looked at her eyes as she glanced at his hand.

She pulled out her phone.

"Lucy," he said, shaking his head.

"Verona," she spoke into the phone.

He felt the dog tag hit road. The location didn't promise much violence, but-

He went, Ruins flickering in his peripheral vision for the moment it took him to travel. He drew his weapon and pointed it low.

Verona scrambled back, witch hat stirring with the wind, cloak lifting up with how fast the movement was. She avoided being caught in the way of the weapon as she circled around him, scrambling to get off the road. Not that there was any danger he'd point it at her.

His next thought was that she'd summoned him into traffic, but she hadn't gone that far. No, that would've been hard.

He got his bearings.

There wasn't much danger. She must've stepped toward Kennet. He was on a road, mountainous…

And Kennet was in the distance, fairly close to the horizon, the moon hanging above it.

He was better at judging how long it took to walk places. He'd come about this far out on some patrols around the perimeter. A forty-five minute walk back. Maybe longer. He didn't recognize this particular road, and there could be bends or other obstacles.

He bent down and picked up the dog tag. "I'll be keeping this."

"Okay," Verona said. "Sorta figured."

"You want to make me miss the competition altogether?"

"Help us stop Maricica and Charles. Don't compete," Verona said. She kept a good distance from him, the breadth of the road between them. As he took a step, she backed up a bit, then fixed the strap of her bag that she wore over the cloak.

"They won't start until I'm there. This is pointless."

"I can be real annoying," Verona said. "You think I could annoy you into quitting?"

He shook his head.

"I think I might try."

He turned and started walking. She moved alongside him, keeping a roughly equal distance, the road between them.

"Hey, John?"

He looked at her, still walking.

When she didn't reply, he turned his attention forward again.

"John?"

He ignored her.

"Lucy deserves better. Like it or not, you kinda slotted in pretty neatly into a big fat gap in her life. She's had like two guys she could ever depend on, one's her big brother, and he kinda still left. Then there's you."

"I can't be responsible for her life circumstances. I'm sorry. I'm glad if I gave her something but I didn't ask to be that."

"Kinda sucks but when you become part of some kid's life, whether it's because you're a parent or a teacher or because you signed on for an awakening ritual, knowing you're bringing three kids into this crazy fucked up world, you're responsible. You didn't say no. You helped make that call to make us the town's practitioners. Why?"

He didn't reply.

"Why, John? Why? Hey!"

He sighed.

"Hey, John? Did you think it'd be easier? Picking kids for Kennet?"

"I did."

"Did you think we'd be less threatening than a big grown up practitioner? Less greedy? Because we're young teens, we've got crap judgment. My skull? This brain ain't fully developed."

"You've done okay."

"John, hey, we're super greedy. We're more idealistic than a lot of the human adults I know. We've got dreams and goals, visions for the future that haven't been rubbed all the way out just yet. Lucy's got this idea in her head that you'd be the backup she really needs in her life. Someone rock solid, someone cool. And I gotta say, she's not super wrong. I'd love her to have that. Every step you take toward the Arena, you're stomping on that dream of hers. Maybe it's the last big one she gets."

"Are you going to talk like this the entire way?"

"I'm prepared to. Hey John?"

He sighed.

"John, hey. You already ended one kid's childhood. You really going to do the same to Lucy? Gotta do what you gotta do?"

He ignored her. One kid? Did she mean-?

"Stupid ideas of responsibility and crap? Doing what you did with Yalda with-"

He turned, looking at her. He stopped in his tracks.

"-with my best friend," she finished. She went quiet for a second. "Yeah, I went there. I might have a compassion deficiency, and you'd better believe I'll pull out all the stops for Lucy's sake."

He looked back toward Kennet. It was going to be a long forty five minutes.

"Do you not like her? Are you that heartless an asshole?" Verona asked. "Should I tell her that? I don't want to hurt her, but maybe it'd help it go down easier?"

"No. I'm fond of her. In another set of circumstances, I'd be happy to be her familiar."

He hadn't resumed walking.

"John, hey."

He ignored her. He looked down at where the road dipped into trees.

He'd walked the perimeter many times. He tried to get his bearings, knowing he was south of Kennet. The river disappeared into the hills and mountains to his right.

This hill didn't exist.

He drew his gun.

"John, hey. Hey!"

He aimed at the moon, and he shot. The force of the shot jolted down his arm into his chest.

The moon shattered. So did that segment of sky, and so did the view of Kennet on the horizon. The shards landed about a hundred feet in front of him, and turned to wisps of smoke on hitting the road.

He turned the opposite direction, judged, and shot. The mountain was real, and he'd rather hit mountainside, given the choice.

The bullet punched through the image at one edge, the crack lancing along it. He could see through to Kennet.

When he took a step toward it, it tried to adjust, relevant to his perspective, broken pieces sawed against one another, and the entire construction crumbled.

Kennet was in the direction opposite to the one he'd been walking, about ten minutes of walking away. Twenty minutes of walking, ten minutes of a fast march to get from the edge of Kennet to the Arena. Verona had only come just beyond the town's perimeters, up the hill a bit, and then she'd set up this construction on a little-known road.

If he hadn't realized, he could've walked indefinitely before realizing the town wasn't getting much closer.

He started marching toward the real Kennet.

Verona threw a spell card. It erupted into flame, barring his path. He stopped.

Now she seemed intent on fighting him every step of the way, instead of distracting him from the glamour with her words and jabs. It had been a little odd that she hadn't been getting in his way more.

Verona looked down at her phone. "Lucy just texted me. She says if you give a good reason, or if you can at least convince us you'll win, we'll back off."

"I can't, I can't, and I believe you, respectively, doesn't matter."

"She thinks you're being stupid. She's upset. She never makes this many typos."

"It's not stupid, and I'm sorry. Please don't waste your efforts and resources trying to stop me."

He started to move around the burning fire in the middle of the road. She threw another card, and a bonfire-sized eruption of flame leaped to life.

"This reminds me of certain events I'd rather not be reminded of. Being cornered by practitioners just before I lost friends."

"Oh does it? Because this is a certain event I'd rather not be part of. Cornering you so you won't tear my friend's heart out. Metaphorically. Easy to fix. Just call it quits."

"I thought I should warn you, because I have my vulnerabilities. If I'm provoked, if I lean on instinct in a moment, I could do something we both regret. I think that would tear her heart out on two fronts."

"Yeah, uh, don't do that."

He dropped the bags he was carrying and lunged, over and between the two fires, letting the licking tongues of flame burn his skin and clothing. He didn't have the benefit of Ribs or Black's ability to keep the fire from getting a firm grip on him, but he touched a hand to tags, as if they could maybe sense him and impart just a bit of it into him.

Verona wasn't quick on her feet. She didn't even seem to realize he was coming straight for her. She was quicker with hands than her feet, though, reaching for a back pocket-

He reached- arm out like a weapon, flat of his hand catching her at the forearm as he reached past her body. The back of his hand and arm grazed the side of hers, and her fingers missed the pocket with the spell components in it.

She stumbled back, twisting, reaching- and he didn't let her do what she wanted to. He caught her arms near the armpits, lifting, then pushed her a bit downhill.

It would have been smart of her to take a rough fall, because the alternative was being on her feet, stumbling back a short distance, off balance and out of position. He grabbed her arms from behind, lightly twisting.

"Ow, frig!"

Adjusting his grip, he got both of her wrists in his hands, walking her forward. Around the fire. He stepped over his bag, hooking one foot through straps, then made a slow, trudging progress across the woods to the treeline.

"Ow, ow."

Switching his grip to hold both her skinny wrists with one hand, he stooped down, unzipped the bag, and pulled out straps.

"Aw, no, don't-"

He took off her bag, hat, and cloak, used the straps to bind her to the tree. He fished in her pockets, pulled out the notecards and glamour, a rasp that smelled like blood, a sheathed knife that felt elemental, a goblin key, pens, and markers.

He placed everything in her cloak, bundling it around the various odds and ends.

"John, dude, no," Verona said.

"I'm betting you can get free in half an hour or so. Or Avery and Lucy can find you."

"Or Maricica could."

"Her intention is to get you out of the picture so she can pull her plan together. Leaving you tied up does that."

"So does murdering me somehow. There's a Dog Meat running around. And Witch Hunters."

"The risk of that is low."

"What if I swore?" she asked. "We can call it a noninterference pact. You let me go, I swear an oath and say hey, I tried, made a genuine effort for my best friend, then I can at least go out and keep an eye out for Charles and stuff."

"Swearing that oath would require the part where you say you won't get in my way again. You left that out."

Verona smirked.

"Yeah," he said.

The smirk fell away. "You're being dumb."

"Never claimed to be smart."

"Aw, don't do that. That's a defense that assholes throw out, not something from the self-aware dumb person. It's cowardly. Chickenshit."

He turned away from her.

"If it gets me out of this, I'll swear," she called out, behind his back. "Let me go and I won't get between you and the arena, you and Lucy, or any of that. You have to deal with them, but I won't stop you, I won't play a further part in this, tonight, except to tell Lucy I lost. I don't want to be left tied up. Please."

He studied her, thinking about the words.

"Mosquitoes like me, I'll suffer," she said.

"Swear and I'll let you go."

"I swear, in spirit and rule, I'm ducking out of this attempt to dissuade you. I won't get involved again, except to message my friends, and maybe if I get in the way of any outside trouble, like Musser or Witch Hunters, I'll deal with them while my friends are otherwise distracted. That's it."

He pulled on the metal buckle, undoing the strap. He watched her carefully as she stepped free, rubbing where the straps had been tight against arms.

"Okay," she said. "I'd wish you luck but I really hope you don't make it to that arena."

He nodded.

He got his bags and let her get hers. She left by air, and he walked.

- Break 2