Celestial Worm Pt 16 (Patreon)

Part Sixteen: Playing Chicken

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by @Fizzfaldt and co-written with Karen Buckeridge, author of Ties That Bind and the (soon to be published) sequel The Long Way Home.]

Taylor

Something occurred to Taylor. “Wait a second. What if Coil wasn’t the Chosen one of Scion after all?”

Janesha paused and twisted her head towards her friend, arching an eyebrow in a blend of query and ridicule. “What?”

Being put on the spot like this, Taylor wasn’t as confident as she’d been two seconds earlier. Nevertheless, she pushed on. “Well, what if there was someone else who was the Chosen one, but Coil was that person’s protege?” Taylor waved one hand over the top of the other. “Our history is littered with religious zealots who didn’t actually answer to the priest in charge, but a secretive sub-group of priests. What if it’s that sub-group who decided Coil was too much of a liability, and didn’t want their bosses finding out about it? So that person pops in, takes out Coil, and Scion is completely oblivious to everything?” For Taylor, that made more sense. She’d spent her whole life believing Scion was the good guy, and it was really hard to accept he could be responsible for all the woes of the world, even if they had come after Scion first appeared.

 “I guess it’s possible.” Janesha tapped her finger on her lips. “And if the lower priest prayed directly to Scion and Scion didn’t ask questions because he’s an idiot, I suppose I could see Scion crafting a minor ‘miracle’ that explains how that headless prick got out of my stink-trap.”

“What if the priest did it himself without praying to Scion in the first place?”

Janesha snorted in an unflattering way. “Petal, are you seriously suggesting that any amount of mortal influence is going to undo shifting done by me?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t work that way. We’re top tier, and only one of our own could undo what we do. Certainly nothing mortal.”

Taylor knew when to quit. Janesha had a hard-on for Scion’s hide, and nothing this side of Hell was going to deter her from it. “Fair point.” She shaded her eyes and stared in the direction the shot had come from. “Maybe if we looked at where the sniper fired from, we could work out who the actual Chosen one is.”

“Hm. Did you see where the shot came from?” asked Janesha looking around and taking in the area around them. “Because I didn’t.”

“Give me a second.” Taylor went back through the snapshots her brain had taken over the last fifteen minutes. There was one where she was in midair over Coil’s vehicle, then one where she landed. Tearing the door off the car. Swinging inside. Grabbing for the gun … “Wait.”

“Got something?” Janesha perked up.

“I think so.” Taylor isolated that snapshot and focused on the bit where she’d seen a flash from the top of a building out of the corner of her eye. Zooming in, she identified the building and pointed at it. “That one, right there. Second tall one, to the left.”

Janesha turned in that direction, then with a wide grin she slapped her friend in the shoulder. “Nice.”

“What’s nice?” Armsmaster asked, having seen the two conferring to one side and not taking his attention far from the pair. Once Taylor had pointed, she guessed he’d figured out what they were doing and wanted in on it.

“Just triangulating where the sniper came from,” Taylor answered. It still blew her mind that she was talking so casually to Armsmaster of all people like he was one of her friends at school. “Pretty sure I’ve got a bead on it.”

 “So, we’re just going to head over there and see what we can find on the sniper,” Janesha ended.

“Uh … no, you’re not,” Armsmaster stated, his voice brimming with authority.

Janesha stilled and her head swiveled ever so coldly towards him. “What?” The word may have technically had a question attached to it, but the iciness that coated it possessed more of a ‘You might want to reword that while you still can’ vibe to it.

Armsmaster pulled himself up to his full height, towering over the girls. “I can’t allow you to mess with a crime scene, Janesha, even if it’s with the best of intentions. There’s a process – a chain of evidence that must be adhered to, so that when we catch the murderer, the charges will stick. If you touch anything before us, the whole case could be thrown out for tampering.”

Taylor knew exactly how much (precisely none) Janesha cared for due process, and it was written all over her indignant face. She also knew if she didn’t get in the middle of this immediately, Janesha would take matters into her own hands. “What if we promise not to touch a thing?” she asked, sliding across in front of Janesha, for Armsmaster was so focused on the Mystallian he’d probably forgotten Khepri was even there. Putting her in his direct line of sight forced him to acknowledge her. “We can even stay off the roof, so there won’t be any contamination of evidence.” 

Armsmaster’s jaw ground from side to side and Taylor realised she was losing control of the situation.

That was when an idea came to her. “How good is the recording device in your helmet?”

That had Armsmaster’s head snapping towards her. “Excuse me?” he asked, in much the same way Janesha had of him.

Taylor held up her hand and waved away his temper, finding it a little disturbing. “I don’t mean exactly. That’s probably classified. But are you able to zoom in and watch what we do if we fly over the roof of that building? If we stay within your line of sight, and you keep watching us, you can see we won’t be touching anything.”

Armsmaster looked back at Janesha. “Do I have your word you won’t attempt to land?”

 “Sure,” Janesha replied, flippantly.

“Janesha,” Armsmaster growled, and Taylor could practically feel his eyebrows merging into an angry line under that helmet.

“I give you my word I won’t touch the roof until you get there,” the Mystallian replied. “Happy?”

“Not particularly,” Armsmaster admitted. “But I’ll take you at your word. And anything you find; you come back here and tell me about it.”

Janesha laughed as if he’d gone insane and shook her head. “That wasn’t part of the deal. You figure your stuff out, and we’ll do the same. I’ve got a few questions I want to ask the prick that pulled the trigger too, you know.” And with that, she whirled on her heel and headed for Cloudstrike, taking up the mystallion’s bridle. “Coming, Khepri?”

 Taylor wasn’t about to be left behind. “Later, Armsmaster!” she said with a wave, rushing over to join Janesha.

Seconds later, the pair were airborne and circling over the building in question. “Remember, we have to stay in line of sight of Armsmaster, and the assassination took place on this side of the roof, so we shouldn’t have any hassle doing that,” Taylor shouted over the wind.

As they hovered over the west side of the building, Taylor couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. No tripods, no shooting mat, not even an expended cartridge case gleaming in the sunlight. It didn’t look like a crime scene at all. The only thing she was sure of was that the flash had come from this point, and that an instant later Coil’s head had ceased to be a single contiguous item.

Glancing at Janesha, she saw that her friend was tilting her head slightly, as if she could hear something just outside the normal audible range. Taylor listened carefully but heard nothing. “Have you got something?” she asked.

“Not a damned thing. I can’t believe we’ve hit another fucking dead-end!”

That was when another idea came to Taylor. A ludicrously ridiculous idea, that just wouldn’t go away now that it had made itself known. “Janesha, any chance you can land us on that other rooftop over there. I want to run something past you that sounds crazy, and my crazy benchmark has been moved to almost non-existent.”

Janesha looked over her shoulder with a strange expression on her face. “Sure,” she said, and brought Cloudstrike in for a landing on a building three away from the crime scene, just to keep Armsmaster happy. Taylor dropped to the ground and waited for Janesha to join her. “So, what’s on your mind?” the celestial girl asked.

Taylor held up both fingers in a ‘wait’ motion. “Hear me out,” she insisted. “Scion’s been here for about thirty years, right?”

“Which one of lives here, to be answering that question?” Janesha mused.

 “Okay, fine. He’s been here for thirty years. That wasn’t meant to be a question. The questioning part is, how readily do your kind … you know … have kids?”

 That had Janesha taking half a step backwards. “You think he punched his V-card here?” she asked, incredulously. “With a mortal?”

 Taylor was sure she was missing something. “Firstly, ewww. And secondly, no! Geez, why would you even say such a thing?”

“Because that’s how it works with us,” she answered. “The first time we sleep around, the odds of having a kid are really high. After that, it’s maybe one every other hundred billion years. If that.” She shrugged. “Unless having kids is part of an establishment field – in which case all bets are off.”

It was hard enough for Taylor to picture Scion having sex as it was, without picturing him doing so as a virgin. “What if he does have a kid here, hypothetically speaking? A hybrid, I think you called them. How would that fit into your theory?”

Janesha grimaced. “Too fucking well,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her gloved hand against her mouth. “If Scion had a hybrid, he’d be in all sorts of trouble with the known realms and the kid would be as good as dead. Most celests value their own hides over their hybrid kids which explains why Scion took off as soon as he saw me. He knew the game was up.”

“And if that’s the case, what if the hybrid pulled the trigger, because he or she hasn’t figured out what it means to possess divinity yet?”

“That does make a twisted sort of sense,” Janesha admitted. “But that still doesn’t explain the need for a gun. Hybrids are like all celestials, and we’re attuned to the realm we’re born in. I’m still attuned to Mystal. If he or she was born here, their will alone commands the realm and they could’ve simply said to reality, “Coil doesn’t exist anymore,” and the mortal ceases to exist.”

“Could a hybrid have a Chosen one?” asked Taylor. “Or do you have to be established for that to happen?”

“Hybrids can have worshippers just like any other celestial, but that by definition makes them established. The thing is, mortals give us power and we wield it. Hybrids who believe in themselves establish themselves out to fifteen feet. They literally power themselves. Anywhere. Can you not see how dangerous that is?”

Not really, but Taylor didn’t want to be the one to say that. “So, if this working theory is right, we’re not chasing one celestial, but two.”

 “And hybrids are usually smart enough to stay on the down-low. In my cousin’s realm, they’ve literally been doing it for centuries, with nobody there being any the wiser. Coil’s death makes a lot more sense that way, instead of him being the protege of an actual Chosen one. And to be honest, some gods have a habit of screwing their worshippers. Sort of like with mortal rock bands and their groupies.” She rolled her eyes. “Lord Zeus does it almost on a daily basis, the dirty bastard. Pisses Lady Hera off no end.”

“I have no doubt.” Taylor figured at some point she’d get used to hearing gods from myth and legend referred to as casually as someone’s next-door neighbor, but it would take a little time yet. “So, are we going home now?” She worded the question casually. While she was okay with going home, she’d be equally happy to accompany them for a ride out across the cosmos, courtesy of Cloudstrike and Janesha telling mere mortal physics to go cry in the corner.

“No.” Janesha turned her face skyward, but instead of giving Cloudstrike her head, she reformed her eyes so that they spread right across her face in a series of insectoid prisms. “Since Scion doesn’t want to play ball, and whoever shot Coil’s also keeping their head down, I might as well take all my frustrations out on a certain name-stealing bitch that’s too stupid to know when to hide.”

Taylor blinked, connecting the dots very rapidly indeed. “What? You’re going after the Simurgh?”

“Hell yeah. I need to punch something, like yesterday, and everything else on this world is too fucking fragile for an all-out celestial smack-down.” Janesha spoke absently as she scanned the skies. “I’ll understand if you want to sit this one out, petal. It’s going to get ugly.”

“Why? Can’t you just mind-whammy it like you do everything else?”

 Janesha’s right eyebrow shot toward her hairline. “Did you not hear what I just said? I need to punch something, and not just once, but repeatedly. Preferably something that will at least give me a bit of a challenge to make winning that smack-down more satisfying. If I wanted to punch inanimate objects, I’d go and punch a few of Saturn’s satellites into a different orbit, but that won’t help.”

“So, you want to be hit a few times.”

 “I need a fight,” the celestial agreed. She smacked her loose fist into the palm of her other hand. “I need to vent.”

 No way. No way in hell was Taylor missing this. “Can you keep me safe from her scream?”

“Sure,” Janesha replied. “You’re tethered to me, petal. If her scream is some sort of bending, it’ll bounce straight off you.”

“Good. Then I’m coming with you.” Taylor fought down a chill at the idea of coming face to face with one of the most viscerally terrifying creatures in the world. “You won’t face her alone.”

Janesha patted the shoulder of the mystallion standing beside them. “If I even thought about leaving this overgrown pain-in-the-ass behind, I’d have a fight on my hands that’d be a whole different calibre of conflict,” she promised, ruffling Cloudstrike’s mane playfully. Cloudstrike lifted her head and whinnied affirmatively.

Which brought up another point for Taylor. “Is Cloudstrike immune to mind bending?”

<><>

Janesha

Janesha paused, knowing Taylor had pinpointed a problem Janesha hadn’t thought of. Mystallions weren’t immune to bending any more than anything else, but when they ever had to go into battle, the mystallions were all issued with seclusion rings built into their bridles. Gladiator, grandmother Armina’s mystallion, never took his off. The big problem with that obvious solution, she didn’t have any seclusion rings with her, and her vacation would be over the second she tried to reach her magical cousin for one of the specialized constructs.

 Could she tether herself to Cloudstrike like she had Taylor? Sure, if she wanted to be bitten by her winged friend for the rest of eternity. Mystallions were as proud as their riders, and any attempt to modify them was met with the most aggressive resistance imaginable. Even those like Cloudstrike, who had shifters as their riders, had made that point very clear very early in their partnership.

So how do I get around this? When nothing came to her, she did what all benders did. She turned her thoughts inward and brought up an armor-clad simulacrum of the best warrior their pantheon had to offer. Her great grandmother, Armina. Before this version of her grandmother could explode over her recent activities, Janesha modified the image so that Armina both knew of her choices and, more importantly, was fine with it. “Okay, so what do I do now?” she asked, cutting right to the chase, Mystal style. “I don’t want her getting hurt, but I don’t want to leave her behind either.”

“If you want a fight, you only need to come home,” her grandmother growled, clenching one armored hand into a tight fist while the other rested on her hip. “You’re already in more trouble than you can possibly handle.”

 Janesha knew that, but it wasn’t the point. “I want this fight,” she insisted. “I want one I have more than a hope of winning.”

 Armina folded her arms. “Trust me, you have no hope of winning against what’s coming your way when you get home, young lady.”

 Janesha looked off to the side and rubbed the back of her neck with one hand. “Yeah, well … I can win this one.” She looked back at her grandmother. “I mean, I could grow wings and go after this fake bitch myself, but Cloudstrike will be pissed if I left her behind. Since I don’t have access to seclusion rings, how do I keep her safe?”

 “You could drug her.”

 True, but not what she was after. “I want her with me. She needs to vent as much as I do.”

“Does this Simurgh know you’re coming?”

Janesha shrugged. “The mortals think she has some level of precognition, but Cloudstrike and I caught her by surprise when we flew past her a couple of days ago.”

 Her grandmother nodded thoughtfully. “So, it’s a mortal-based precog.”

 Janesha nodded. “That’s my guess.”

“If you were able to make line of sight on this Simurgh before she saw you coming, you could apply a mental command for her not to use bending.”

Janesha had no doubt that if the real Armina were here instead of this imaginary version, there would be war strategies so intricate that it would take a master strategist a decade to process what she worked out in a heartbeat. But as this was just a rehash of her own knowledge applied to her grandmother’s point of view, she was limited to the basics.

“Is this Simurgh capable of physical combat?”

The question was too simple, even for an imaginary Armina. The very fact that she was itching for a fight made the answer obvious. Which meant she was missing something basic. Almost too hesitant to answer, Janesha hunched one shoulder and murmured, “Maybe.”

In the next second, her ears were ringing from the slap Armina had delivered to the back of her head. It was gentle, or as gentle as her great-grandmother ever did, though the metal gauntlet didn’t help with softening the impact. “You’re riding an unprotected mystallion into a known celestial battle?” Her voice crackled with the level of command that was used to maneuver hundreds of billions of troops on any given battlefield, and Janesha knew she’d screwed up. Thankfully, this was all in her mind, so she had time to fix it. “Do you think Gladiator is constantly armored for war because it’s a fucking fashion statement?”

 “I’ll fix it,” she insisted. “I’ll armor her up.”

“See that you do,” Armina responded. As if to remind her of the correct look for a mystallion going to war, Armina created an image of Gladiator. “Miss nothing,” she said, pointing at the spiked plate mail battle armor. Every part of it is relevant, if only to put the fear of Mystal into your enemy.”

Janesha nodded, looking over every inch of black armor. Each piece was intricately crafted, made to work with the rest in a way that protected the mystallion it was fitted on to, without hampering their movements. Spikes protruded from the chanfron, the front facing shin guards above the hooves and rear facing hind legs. The centre of peytral plate was the all too familiar sigil of the pantheon. Even the reins were a heavy chain, where the sides of every link were honed into a blade edge. This wasn’t for Armina’s use. Releasing the reins gave the war-mystallion the opportunity to control the unusual flail from the bit between his teeth. The leading edges of his wings were equally armored with razor-sharp bands of black Mystallian steel, designed to carve through the enemy.

 Janesha wasn’t sure if Cloudstrike was up for this level of equipment, but she figured her friend would adapt quickly enough. As annoyed as she might have found the added weight, it’d be nothing compared to when Armina went through her memories and saw the image of herself telling Janesha to miss no aspect of the armor, only to have Janesha deliberately omit a few pieces anyway. Cloudstrike would just have to deal with it or stay behind.

“Thanks, Gran.”

 Janesha had hoped to wrap this up before the lectures began, but even this imaginary version of her grandmother had to get a barb in. “You know I am going to kick your ass through your teeth so many times not even your shifting is going to be able to remember which end does what,” the Mystallian goddess of War stated with a frown, as both hands returned to her hips.

“Love you too, Gran. Bye!” And with that, the image winked out of existence. Janesha let out a heavy breath, taking a moment to wish how much she’d love to be able to do that to the real one when the time came. But she was already in so deep, there was nothing else for it but to get what she wanted out of the situation first.

 With another deep, revitalizing breath, she turned away from her imagination and returned to the physical realm. Okay, then. Time to go to war.

<><>

Taylor

“ … I mean, she probably is and all,” Taylor continued.

“No, she isn’t, but I have a plan.” Janesha climbed back on to Cloudstrike and held her hand out for Taylor. “Are you coming?”

 “Hell, yeah,” Taylor slid her hand into Janesha’s, and with a combination of haul and jump, she was settled in the second saddle behind her friend.

“Here we go, then. First things first. We need mass.” She urged Cloudstrike into the air and took her out towards the ocean. “Get ready to get wet, old friend,” Janesha said, and suddenly, all three were diving into the saltwater.

They were only underwater for a few seconds before they broke the surface and were airborne once more. Taylor coughed and wiped the saltwater from her goggles. When her vision cleared, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “What happened to Cloudstrike?” she demanded, for even where she sat, it was as if he had undergone some level of transformation. He no longer looked like the adorable winged horse that Taylor and every other teenaged girl in the world would’ve given their eye-teeth for. Spiky, black plate mail armor covered almost every inch of her except the feathers of her wings. Even then, the wings were interlaced with dark, flexible strips of metal to allow full maneuverability in flight. They looked kind of razor-sharp, too.

“Wow. Damn. I did not expect that,” she admitted. “How strong is that armor?”

“Mystallian steel,” Janesha crowed with pride. The answer was given in the same way someone might say the sky is blue. It was an indisputable fact. “Nothing that fake-angel wannabe will be able to get through, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, you’ve covered your bases.” Taylor braced herself, both physically and mentally. “Let’s go kick the crap out of the Simurgh.”

“That’s the spirit.” Janesha laughed out loud. “I think it’s a good thing you and your dad are just mortals. If you were full-blooded celestials, you’d be giving the rest of us a real run for our money.” She shook out the reins. “Hey-yah! Let’s go hunting, girl!”

That had apparently been what the mystallion had been waiting for. Raising her wings, she brought them down with a thunderclap that echoed across the ocean. Before the sound had a chance to die down, they were already in the upper atmosphere.

As the Earth rolled under them, Taylor took a moment to think about what they were doing. “What’s to stop her from pre-emptively attacking us, before you tell her not to hurt Cloudstrike?”

“Because she doesn’t see me coming.” Janesha shot a grin over her shoulder at Taylor. “I went back over my memory of the time we buzzed her, and she was shocked and stunned that we’d gotten that close to her. She’s supposed to be able to see stuff before it happens. Either she doesn’t see me or she doesn’t register me as a threat. That’s going to be her first big mistake.” Raising her hand, she pointed. “Aaaand … there she is. Sorted. Whatever we do from here in, it’s physical only.”

Taylor shaded her eyes, peering into the distance, but even with the improved eyesight Janesha had given her, she could see nothing. “Where is she?”

“Just inside the atmosphere,” Janesha answered, pointing both to the front and the left of where they flew. As Cloudstrike banked into the turn, Taylor finally made out the tiny white dot on the horizon, brightly illuminated by the sun. They closed with the third Endbringer at frankly horrifying speeds, the Simurgh went from the far distance to right there in just a few seconds. At that moment, she seemed to be observing Belgium, though Taylor couldn’t see the expression on her face.

On the first pass, Cloudstrike didn’t even slow down; one armour-clad wingtip, extended outward, clipped the until-then oblivious Endbringer. Confirming Taylor’s impression of exactly how sharp the leading edge of the armour was, it neatly snipped a minor wing free to begin its long spiral toward Earth. Taylor got a fleeting impression—captured forever by her photographic memory—of widening grey eyes and a shocked expression, before Cloudstrike pulled into a tight loop. “Hey, bitch!” Janesha howled in delight. “I’m baaaaaack!”

In less time than it took Taylor to even think about it, they’d completed the loop, pulling more Gs than Taylor wanted to contemplate as the Earth spun crazily overhead, and were flashing back into the attack. This time, Janesha got up with her feet on the saddle. “Take the reins!” she called out, handing the chain straps back to Taylor.

“Wait, what?” Taylor clutched at the reins, thankful for the armor that protected her from the bladed edges she could see gleaming in the bright light. Never in ten billion years had she thought she might ever be holding the reins of such a magnificent creature. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Crouching on the saddle with her cape fluttering free, Janesha poised herself with her eyes fixed on the Simurgh, who did not seem at all thrilled with the situation. “I’m going old -school on this bitch.”

Holy shit, she’s going hand to hand with the Simurgh! Taylor had seen Janesha literally walk on water and juggle container ships, but that was nothing compared to this. And then there was no more time to think about it; Cloudstrike swept past the Simurgh, who dodged the slashing wingtip, but did not manage to evade Janesha herself. With a wild yell of “Mystal!”, the celestial girl launched herself from the saddle, arms outstretched, on a collision course with the Endbringer.

As Taylor tugged gently on the reins to pull Cloudstrike back around toward the fight, she had her head craned over her shoulder to watch, so she saw the collision in all its glory. She had no idea how fast they’d been travelling when Janesha made her attack, but when the impact occurred, it drove the Simurgh sideways in a cloud of white feathers.

Looking even more surprised and terrified than before, the Endbringer began to lash out at her assailant with both hands and all the wings she could bring to bear. Almost immediately, Taylor heard a high-pitched shrilling in the back of her head, and she began to feel a little weird.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh. fuck. It’s her song. She’s singing. How’s it getting me when Janesha said she’d blocked it? It didn’t matter. The bottom line was she had.

With one hand wrapped around the Simurgh’s neck, Janesha reared back and smashed a headbutt into the centre of the alabaster-white face, driving the Endbringer’s head back. The singing abruptly ceased. “Don’t even try that shit with my friends!” shouted the celestial girl, driving a sledgehammer-blow punch into the body of her chosen opponent. More feathers flew as she shattered another small wing. Taylor was a little dubious as to how she was hearing her friend in the near-vacuum of low earth orbit, but she was willing to go with ‘celestial bullshit’.

As Cloudstrike circled the ongoing conflict, Taylor watched with her heart in her mouth. Janesha was good at what she did. Scratch that; she was very good at what she did. But there was a fundamental difference between casually fucking Coil over and taking on an Endbringer in hand to hand combat with minimal backup. Even Alexandria didn’t do this. Or perhaps she did, but it never lasted for long.

Abruptly, the Simurgh vanished from where Janesha was mauling her, and reappeared right next to where Taylor sat astride Cloudstrike. She looked a little the worse for wear, and the expression on her face wasn’t the usual impassive gaze she gave the world. Right now, she looked pissed. It didn’t help that her nose was bent sideways from Janesha’s headbutt.

Taylor barely had time to react as the Simurgh reached for her. Whatever the Endbringer intended; throw her at Janesha, tear her in two, or maybe teleport away with her, Taylor never found out, for Cloudstrike’s reflexes were up to the situation. The mystallion snorted and swatted the Simurgh sideways with one massively armour-clad wing, then pivoted in mid-flight and unloaded a double kick with both her rear hooves. Not only did the hooves collide with the Endbringer’s chest, but two large spikes on the back of her shin guards pierced her chest cavity and travelled upwards with the same blow. Cloudstrike suddenly snorted and her rear legs jerked and scissored, tearing through feathered flesh in their wake in their need to be freed. Watching this, Taylor had to conclude she wasn’t used to whatever these auxiliary weapons were.

 Finally she was free, and looking back, Taylor saw not only the huge gouges from the spikes, but also two perfectly formed hoofprints in the wing covering that part of her body. Janesha was still on Simurgh’s upper body. “Good girl, Cloudstrike!” she crowed, then went straight back on the attack. “How many times do I have to tell you,” she grunted as she took hold of another wing and braced herself, “you don’t fuck with my friends!” The wing tore free and she tossed it aside, then slid down for what would’ve been a more important wing on the Endbringer’s torso. The Simurgh grabbed her cape and tried to yank her away; Janesha made the cloth stretch, then grabbed the offending arm and broke it off at the shoulder. Looking at the arm, then at the monster she was attacking, Janesha shrugged and began to beat on the Simurgh with her own arm.

 Taylor wasn’t totally surprised when the Simurgh vanished once more. It seemed the Endbringer could learn; this time, she didn’t try to attack Taylor. Not only that, but this time she was able to dislodge Janesha before disappearing. Her teenaged friend started to plummet.

It was nothing for Cloudstrike to get underneath her, and somehow (Taylor didn’t rule out anything where her friend and the legendary creature were concerned) they both knew what the other was doing, for Janesha righted herself and Cloudstrike timed things perfectly, putting Janesha back in the saddle as if she’d fallen a few inches instead of half a football field.

“Mother-fucker!” the Mystallian swore, her head twisting in all directions for the missing creature. “Her too! This is REALLY getting fucking old!”

As her friend ranted, Taylor went back through her snapshots for any indication of which way she went. “That way, I think,” she said, pointing out past Janesha’s shoulder. “She looked in that direction just before she teleported.”

Janesha stared at her incredulously. “Petal, I am seriously wondering why I didn’t take on a mortal sidekick long before now.” She twitched the reins, and Cloudstrike came around to the heading Taylor had indicated, then they blurred into forward speed. “Any celest would’ve been telling me how they could do it better, and probably getting in my way. You just sit back and watch and gather all the information I need. We make an awesome team.”

Taylor blushed a little at the praise. “I know I can’t do what you can do, so I do my best.” Apart from her near heart-attack when the pissed off Simurgh was right there in front of her, she found she was enjoying this immensely. And the impact of Cloudstrike’s hooves (maybe not those spike things – they were a bit much) against the Endbringer had been so damn satisfying.

Actually … talking about that. She began flicking through the snapshots of the fight once more, frowning slightly. Although Janesha had by far been getting the better of it, the Endbringer was living up to the legendary durability that all three monsters were known for. The celestial girl had dealt out a tremendous amount of damage to it, but it didn’t seem to be in any way impaired. Except, of course, for the fact that it was now lacking an arm. How can we actually beat it?

“There you are, you bitch! Cloudstrike, hyah!” At Janesha’s shout, Taylor felt the mystallion quicken her pace, catching up with the fleeing Simurgh. Trailing the odd feather, the Endbringer veered wildly from one side to the other, apparently trying to throw off pursuit. Cloudstrike flicked her pinions out and cut the corners smoothly, coming closer to the prey with every wingbeat.

“Isn’t the Simurgh supposed to be a telekinetic as well?” asked Taylor, still flicking through images. There was something there, if she could just pin it down …

“That’s physical, and I trump it all day long,” Janesha shouted over her shoulder. “Cloudstrike’s armor has shielding for that shit, and you’re still connected to me.” Gathering her feet under her on the saddle and brandishing the snapped-off arm, she grinned tightly back at Taylor. “Time to go wreck her day, again.”

This time, the Simurgh was watching them, or at least facing them, as she flew backward at a rate that should have been frankly impossible under any version of normal physics. Of course, Taylor was fully aware that ‘normal physics’ was not a phrase that applied to capes in general, much less Endbringers. And of course, Janesha routinely ignored what she called ‘mortal physics’ for shits and giggles on an hourly basis. Of everyone involved in this particular battle, Taylor was the one most beholden to the natural laws of Earth Bet, and even then, she got the impression she was merely waving to them across the room while they sulked in the corner.

The Simurgh’s watchfulness did her no good at all when Janesha impacted her again, hard. Taylor fancied she could feel the crunching thud from where she sat astride Cloudstrike’s secondary saddle. Still using the snapped-off arm as a weapon, Janesha set about beating the living shit out of the Endbringer once more. Yet more feathers flew as Janesha used the oddly-placed wings as grab-holds to swing around from one side of her oversized opponent to the other, before ripping them free altogether. The Simurgh tried her best to pin Janesha down, but she couldn’t seem to react fast enough. All the while, Janesha was punching and kicking her, literally knocking chunks away from her mass.

The breaking point for the Endbringer seemed to come when Janesha finally managed to brace herself with her legs and swing a truly effective punch. Her fist hit the Simurgh on the point of the jaw and sheared off not only the jaw but the front half of the Simurgh’s head, to drift away into space. For a third time, the Endbringer vanished from her grip. Taylor checked all around to ensure this wasn’t a last-minute ambush, but the Simurgh was nowhere in sight. Repeating the earlier move, Janesha was once again in the saddle.

 “Which way’d she go now?” Janesha asked, not even bothering with looking for herself.

“Give me a second.” Taylor went into her store of snapshots. Just before Janesha had hit the Simurgh with that impressive uppercut, the Endbringer hadn’t been staring in any particular direction. She went back through the series, capturing a number of shots of the Simurgh’s face, none of which looked in the least bit happy. Nothing stood out, so she worked forward, to the point where Janesha had hit the monster and taken her face off, then on a hunch kept going.

For a moment she thought there was nothing to be seen. But then, right at the top of her vision range, she saw a tiny star that hadn’t been in the previous snapshot. She went on to the next one. The star wasn’t there … but there was another, almost invisible. She turned and looked up. About halfway to the zenith, directly in line with the direction of the fake ‘stars’ … was the Moon. She pointed. “There.”

Janesha raised her eyebrows. “There? The Moon? Are you sure?”

Taylor nodded. “When she first appeared, she came around from the far side of the Moon. Maybe she’s gone back there. It’s the closest thing she’s got to a hiding place, I guess.”

 “With you at my back, petal, that bitch ain’t got nowhere to hide.” Janesha pulled a stimulation wave, renewing her battered uniform and appearance until they were pristine once more. “Oh, in case you were wondering, her scream isn’t bending based. It’s actually a microscopic alteration of your brain with her TK. Or at least, it was, until I reinforced my ownership of you and told that cow what she could go and do with herself.”

 “Wait—your ownership of me?” Taylor really didn’t like the sound of that.

Janesha waved the matter aside. “Anyone who has to go after you, has to get through me first. I didn’t mean ownership ownership. More as a ‘this human is mine, and I will fuck you up If you touch what’s mine’.”

Taylor wasn’t sure how that was supposed to be any better. “I don’t like the idea of being owned by anyone.”

“Protected by me, then. How’s that?”

With a slow scratch to the back of her head, Taylor decided she could live with that compromise—barely. “Don’t ever say you own me again, Janesha. I don’t care if you really do, just don’t ever say it again. I mean ever, ever.” She put her hand on her friend’s shoulder and tugged, forcing Janesha to look back at her. “It’ll be the immediate end of our friendship if you do.” Janesha raised a flared hand which Taylor took as a Mystallian apology. “So, are we done here?” The sooner Taylor could put that slip behind her, the happier she’d be.

Janesha snorted. “Fuck, no! I’m gonna finish the job. From what I understand, no matter how badly you hurt these things, they get better. Well, I’m not going to give her the chance to come back and screw with you and Danny while I’m not around.” She turned back to Taylor. “Unless you really want to go home? I can drop you off, if you want ….”

 Taylor genuinely considered doing just that. But in the end, it came down to one irrefutable fact: their world would be better off without the Simurgh. Even if they had a fight and Janesha left tomorrow, one fewer Endbringer in the world was worth a little irritation. “I’m still in,” Taylor said. “I’ve been with you this far. I’m not backing out now.” She looked up toward their destination. “I mean, helping you fight the Simurgh on the far side of the Moon wasn’t exactly what I expected to be doing today, but hey, let’s go do that thing.” 

“Damn right,” agreed Janesha. “And just by the way, I was right about her. She’s only a construct. Absolute death on mortals who haven’t been celestially boosted, but no contest for an actual celest.” Nudging Cloudstrike’s ribs with her heels, she shook the reins out. “Let’s go, girl.”

The previous times Taylor had gone off-planet with Janesha, ironically enough, they’d been moving a lot faster; the Moon had whipped by in an eyeblink. Now that they were actually going there, she had time to watch Earth’s satellite expanding like a moon-landing documentary set to fast-forward. Seconds after leaving atmosphere, they went from ‘approaching’ the Moon to ‘flying over’ the rugged landscape.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, you feathered freaking nuisance …” murmured Janesha. She’d made over her eyes again, probably so she could scan the terrain over the full one-hundred-eighty-degree sweep in front of them.

“Maybe we should go a little higher,” Taylor suggested. “It’ll make it easier to spot her.”

“Good idea.” Janesha signalled Cloudstrike somehow and the mystallion began a long climbing turn. “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever had to go looking for something that was actually trying to hide from me. Apart from Scion, that is. I’m too young to go on a talot-hunt with the others.”

 “Yeah, but—” Taylor’s rebuttal was cut short when a boulder the size of an RV came flying up from the surface of the Moon, on a direct collision course with them. “Shit!”

With a snort of alarm, Cloudstrike angled one wing and side-slipped out of the way; just in time to collide with a second rock which had been thrown using the first one as cover. The impact was considerable; the chunk of moon rock shattered into ten thousand pieces as it smashed into Cloudstrike’s armor, but Taylor was still thrown clear of the mystallion. As she spun over and over with no way to correct her motion, she tried to keep sight of Janesha but failed. It didn’t help that her friend was wearing all black with just a few gold highlights. She couldn’t even tell if Cloudstrike was injured or just woozy from the impact. Hadn’t Janesha implied that the armour she’d given the mystallion was unbreakable?

In any case, here she was, falling toward the Moon, and the only power she had apart from the ones allowing her to survive the situation … was bug control. And she was a quarter of a million miles away from the only bugs in the realm of Earth Bet.

Well, crap.

As she fell, still spinning over and over, she made out the figure below. Far from her pristine alabaster form, the Simurgh was looking not unlike a chew-toy belonging to a family of over-aggressive pit bulls. Half her head was missing, along with one arm and most of her auxiliary wings, plus a large number of feathers and random chunks of her torso. She was also a dull grey in color, not pure white, almost as if ….

Holy shit. She covered herself in moon dust so she could hide better. It had definitely worked, especially when she’d thrown two rocks at them in a row without being spotted. But Janesha had said her and Cloudstrike were a blindspot to her. That the Simurgh couldn’t use her precog to get a bead on them. How did the Simurgh throw the rock so precisely?

Wait a minute.

Shit.

It was all so clear now.

Me. The realization was a sinking one. I’ve got celestial constructs keeping me alive, but I’m human. I’m mortal. The Simurgh can precog me. She can predict where I’m going to be. And she can throw rocks.

I brought this on. I got Cloudstrike hurt. It’s all my fault.

Still tumbling over and over, Taylor fell toward the lunar surface. “Janesha!” she called or tried to call. But nothing happened; at some point after leaving the celestial girl’s presence, the air surrounding her had given way to vacuum. When she opened her mouth, the air inside her lungs also escaped in a rush. She could feel pressure inside her digestive system attempting to escape through one orifice or the other, but the sheer durability of her improved body reduced it to a mild discomfort that she was easily able to repress.

Landing on the moon was a lot softer than she’d expected. She bounced, skidded, and then rolled to a stop. When she jumped to her feet—bouncing a few inches from the surface in the process—she was also covered in moondust, which she brushed off as best she could. This costume was going to need a serious dry-cleaning once she got back to Earth.

If she got back to Earth.

She squashed that line of thought ruthlessly. She herself was still alive, so Janesha was fine. Janesha was a celestial. Scion was demonstrably afraid of Janesha. Cloudstrike was a mystallion, and she’d been given unbreakable armor, so she’d be fine too. Janesha would get her out of this, and they’d laugh about it afterward. But like the Simurgh herself, Taylor was one tiny dot on a very large satellite. Fortunately, due to her link with Janesha, she’d be worrying about food and water long before she had any problems with the lack of air pressure and oxygen around her. And in fact, she’d heard stories about water being located on the lunar north pole when Sphere was first surveying to build his moonbase. I wonder how long it would take me to get there. I wonder which way it is.

Her woolgathering was interrupted by a sudden and dire reminder that there was a danger on the Moon with her that involved neither suffocation, decompression, starvation nor thirst; this came in the form of a boulder hurtling at her head. She barely had enough time to brace herself and throw up one arm in front of her head before the flying chunk of lunar rock slammed into her. This one didn’t shatter, but it did send her bowling hundreds of feet across the stark terrain.

For a second time, she got to her feet. Once more, she was covered in moondust, and now her costume was torn from elbow to wrist where she’d tried to block the boulder. She dusted off her hands and wiped her goggles clear, just in time to see the Simurgh coming for her. The Endbringer still had no face, which made her both unsettling and terrifying, even though silvery flesh and black bones were slowly growing back into place.

Taylor dodged out of the way and grabbed up a baseball-sized rock of her own, but the Simurgh flickered into being right in front of her and lashed out an oversized hand around her throat. Being fifteen feet tall meant that she could put her hand all the way around Taylor’s throat, with room to spare. Even as her feet were lifted off the ground, Taylor wasn’t about to let the Simurgh try to strangle her, so she threw the rock which the Simurgh dodged, then grabbed the oversized fingers and thumb and heaved with everything she had.

She got the impression that the Endbringer before her really, really wanted to have two hands to do the job, but her other arm was somewhere else, and the new one was taking its time growing in. With a certain amount of delighted shock, she also realized that she was actually able to prise apart the Simurgh’s fingers. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t quick, but by exerting all the force at her disposal, she could counteract the Simurgh’s strength. Though irritatingly enough, the Endbringer’s fingers didn’t seem vulnerable to being broken or even snapped off, as Janesha had done with the thing’s entire arm. I should’ve known she was cheating with shifting.

Before she could figure out how to counterattack—the Simurgh’s arm was longer than Taylor’s entire body, and the Endbringer could fly and teleport into the bargain—one large wing came around to batter her, throwing her backward on to her ass. For all that the Moon only had one-sixth gravity, she seemed to be spending a lot of time on the ground.

Rolling to her feet, she saw the Simurgh coming in at her, flying about five feet above the lunar landscape, hand outstretched in a claw. The harsh sun glinted off the dust-covered monster’s nails as they reached out for Taylor’s eyes. She wasn’t going for a stranglehold this time. As far as Taylor could tell, she was looking to rip Taylor’s eyes out, or maybe even drive her fingers into Taylor’s brain.

Oh, sh—

In the most dramatic entrance Taylor had ever seen, Janesha realm-stepped out of nowhere and dropped directly on to the Simurgh’s back with both booted heels, driving the Endbringer face-down into the lunar rock. The shockwave of that impact knocked Taylor fifty feet back, despite the fact that there was no air on the Moon. Climbing to her feet yet again, she stared as Janesha hoisted the struggling Simurgh out of the substantial crater they’d created, holding her with fingers driven into the pale-white skin on either side of the slender neck.

Janesha’s eyes met hers, and Taylor hastily tapped the side of her head. She hoped her meaning was clear. Come into my mind.

A moment later, they were kicking back in Taylor’s living room, with the Simurgh hog-tied in front of them.

“Are you and Cloudstrike okay?” asked Taylor anxiously. “That rock hit us pretty hard.”

“We’re fine,” Janesha replied, her worried expression relaxing. “Don’t scare me like that. I thought I’d missed something.”

 “So where is she?”

 “She’s hovering overhead, just waiting for me to call her down. Turns out she’s not too fond of wearing Gladiator’s armor and has decided to sit the fight out rather than be stuck wearing it. I told her she had to keep it on until the Simurgh was taken care of, so she’s up there sulking.”

 Taylor chuckled, picturing Cloudstrike muttering curses under her breath.

 Janesha wasn’t anywhere near as happy. Her lips were pinched into a thin line as she raked her eyes Taylor’s disheveled appearance. “I am going to rip the heart right out of that fucking bitch and eat it in front of her!” she snarled, swiveling her gaze to look over her shoulder even as each of her teeth sharpened carnivorously.

 “Hey, hey. I’m fine,” Taylor insisted, forcibly getting in front of her friend. It wasn’t hard to remember Janesha had blood ties to Hell when she talked like this, and Taylor didn’t like it. “Seriously. Kill the Simurgh by all means, but don’t just do it just because she roughed me up. If you go in mad, you’ll make mistakes.” Taylor had read that somewhere, and it sounded right. “Keep a clear head, for both our sakes.” She tapped a nail against her friend’s sharpened teeth, adding, “And lose those. They’re seriously creeping me out.”

Janesha ran her tongue across her teeth, and in its wake they were back to square and level. “Happy?”

 Taylor knew she had to lighten the mood before she let Janesha go back outside to face the Simurgh. At the very least, people might be watching from the planet’s surface, and it wouldn’t look good if Janesha lost it and somehow turned into a psycho, flesh eating demon, which was exactly what it would look like.

With a wry grin, she said, “Absolutely. Now at least, I won’t have to walk all the way home by myself. In case you hadn’t noticed, Brockton Bay is a freakin’ long way from the moon.”

 Just as she’d hoped, Janesha fought a losing battle against a smirk that twisted her lips upwards. “There’s my best friend,” Taylor declared, throwing her arms over Janesha’s shoulders and pulling her into a hug. “Now on to the other reason I wanted to talk to you before you went to town on the Simurgh. She has a few invulnerabilities I don’t know if you know about or not. The first one being, I don’t think she has a heart. At least, not in her chest.” When Janesha cocked an eyebrow, she went on to explain. “The torso is the most targeted spot on an Endbringer by the heroes, and it’s never done a thing. But I’ve been going through the footage of your fight, and I think I’ve seen something. Can you bring up that screen thing again?”

“You do realize this is your imagination, right? You don’t need me to make you anything in here. But alright, just to move things along …” The tv in the corner of the room expanded to take in the entire living room wall. “Go for it.”

 Taylor took a deep breath. “This right upper wing is different,” she said, pulling up still images from her memories from the last half-hour. “Every time you’ve attacked her and come close to hitting that wing, she pulls it aside and hides it behind others.” She fell silent then, letting the progression of images talk for itself.

Leaning forward with slightly parted lips, Janesha studied the pictures. Slowly, she shook her head. “Petal, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You’re a stone-cold wonder. This is exactly what I needed to finish this without taking things to the next level. I could’ve been knocking bits off her from now until Uncle Chance comes to find me, and I still probably wouldn’t have located her weak spot like this.”

Taylor blushed and smiled. “Hey, I’m just the spectator here,” she said in an attempt at modesty. “You’re the one who’s got her on the run.”

Janesha rolled her eyes. “As if. This is a team effort.” Playfully, she mussed Taylor’s hair. Moondust drifted on to the sofa.

“Hey, watch it.” Taylor batted her hand aside with a giggle that belied her words. “Go kick her ass.”

“You got it.”

Abruptly, they were back on the lunar surface. The Simurgh tried to stand, but Janesha’s grip was inexorable. Reaching out, the celestial girl took hold of the wing that the Endbringer had been holding back out of harm’s way. Frantically, the Simurgh began to struggle, to the point that she was tearing her body free of Janesha’s grip by ripping holes in her own neck. But it was too late; Janesha had the pinion in her hand.

With a sudden ripping motion, the celestial girl tore the wing away from the Endbringer’s back and the fifteen-foot-tall body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. went limp and unresponsive. Blowing out a raspberry of disappointment, Janesha tossed the corpse, causing it to skid across the surface of the moon and come to an eventual stop. “Well, that was anticlimactic,” she sneered, tossing the remaining limb over her shoulder and heading across the terrain towards Taylor. “If I wanted it to be over that fast, I wouldn’t just gone for her consciousness and be done with it.”

“What were you hoping for?”

Janesha shrugged. “I dunno. Something more substantial, I guess. I’m used to constructs being more … durable than this.” She flicked the limb forward for them both to look at. “What sort of a souvenir should I turn this one into?” she asked. “An itty-bitty diamond replica with…hey!” The wing suddenly started to flail in a desperate attempt to get free of Janesha. “Oh, no you fucking don’t, bitch!” Janesha tore the wing in half; one side kept flailing, while the other stopped moving. Frowning with concentration, she whittled it down until she was holding what had once been the wing joint and was now a featureless sphere about four inches across. “Now, this is more like it,” she said, spinning the orb on one finger like a basketball pro. It suddenly darted upward, but Janesha snagged it with lightning-fast reflexes. “Come back here, you.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.” Taylor stared at the ball. “What is that thing?”

“Like I said, it’s the seat of her consciousness and where she regenerates from. And it’ll be where the energy rope is attached to. Ready to check it out?”

“Sure.”

Janesha whistled to Cloudstrike, who came in for a landing. At least, that was what it had looked like in the beginning, until she whacked the side of her armored head against Janesha’s shoulder in disgust. “Alright, alright, you absolute pain-in-the-ass!” Janesha scowled, pushing her winged friend to arm’s length. With her free hand holding the flail/reins, all the extra mass that made up the mystallion armor broke into dust which Cloudstrike was able to discharge with an enthusiastic all-over body shake. “It was for your own good,” Janesha insisted, which earned her another not-so-gentle nudge in the shoulder. “Push me one more time and you’re on Brockton Bay’s lawn rations for a week,” Janesha warned, jerking the now normal reins for emphasis. Cloudstrike looked away, nickering violently under her breath.

 Taylor tried not to laugh at their antics but failed miserably. “I’m sorry,” she promised, as both turned to her.

Janesha tossed the reins over Cloudstrike’s head and stepped back, giving the mystallion her head. “You might as well go for a long ride and get your shitty mood out of your system, Cloudstrike. Taylor and I are going to be realm-stepping all over the place, tracing this bitch back to her source.”

It took all of a heartbeat for the mystallion to be out of sight, at which point Janesha held her free hand out to Taylor. “Let’s go.”

They all stepped through at the same moment into the surreal landscape of crystals large and small, most of them glowing with an inner radiance. She saw the two glowing cords flowing from her own forehead and it took her a moment to remember one would be her power, and the other would be the faux crystal Janesha had set up to keep them all connected. That would also explain the two cords from Janesha’s head too, if the other went to a ‘crystal’ before going off to Taylor’s father.

But the ball of crystal in Janesha’s hand had a thread of its own, which led off to a part of the crystal forest they hadn’t visited yet.

Janesha glanced at Taylor with a smirk on her face. “Shall we go and find whoever’s running these suckers? With luck, it’ll lead all the way back to where Scion’s hiding.”

 Taylor could understand why that would appeal to her friend, but her hunch went elsewhere. Too many ‘mortal’ things were in play. “I still think it’s a hybrid playing god.”

 Janesha started to wind the cord around the crystal ball, using the motion to rip off any feathery growths that were starting to reappear. “Let’s go, then.”

<><>

Contessa

Fortuna eyed Clare closely. “Okay, they’re both doing something else, right?”

There was nobody else present except Dorian, so the team seer nodded alertly. “Yes. They’re in the celestial realm right now, backtracking the Simurgh. They’re not paying any attention to the mortal realm, or to the pocket realm that Scion’s hidden his main body in.”

“Good. Dorian, when I give the signal, open a doorway to Scion’s pocket realm.” She put her fingers to her seclusion ring and pulled it almost to the tip of her finger, but not quite freeing herself of its protection.

Clare’s eye-sockets flared brightly with flame to show his shock. Dorian also coughed and held up his hand. “This is in no way me attempting to second-guess you, commander,” he said, frowning in confusion. “But what exactly do you plan to do, that won’t leave your presence all over his mind for the Mystallians to follow up on?”

Fortuna gritted her teeth. As badly as she wanted to smack both her subordinates into next week, Dorian was correct. Nassites didn’t stick their heads up without having a thousand ways to cover their tracks, and this was no exception. Any of the elders of Mystal could discover their handiwork.

 “Because Scion’s pulled the rabbit-hole in on himself and doesn’t show any signs of coming out before the heat death of the Known Realms, so we have to coax him out. Scion’s fully established here. There’s no reason why he should lose to the Mystallian cow, especially if we help him from the shadows. But he’s not going to do shit so long as he believes she can beat him. Which means, I need to put the kinds of innate questions that any celestial worth their mettle would ask themselves in this situation. Why am I hiding from her? Once I put that thought in his head, his own ego and establishment field should take care of the rest, and when he finally comes out swinging and wins, it’ll be a simple command extraction and everything inside his head will look perfectly legitimate thought process.”

“So you’re not going to implant the idea that she killed his sister?”

“No – the time discrepancies will have the Mystallians asking too many questions. Like I’ve always said, when in doubt, KISS it.” Keep it simple, stupid.

 Dorian nodded, happier with this new plan than the uncertainties of the old one. “Say the word, commander.”

 “Now!” Contessa barked, yanking the ring off her finger. The portal opened, showing the enormous misshapen body Scion had retreated into. Which she now had line of sight on. Alright, big boy – time to get you nice and stirred up.

<><>

Taylor

“Well, this is different.”

Taylor looked at her friend, then at the arrangement of cords that Janesha was referring to. “I’d say something about ‘well, duh’, but I have to agree. Even without being an expert on this sort of thing, this looks way different to basically everything else here.”

There were several very good reasons for the statement. Just like the cord that led off from the sphere, there seemed to be no less than nineteen others of the same thickness all connected to the same crystal. But even that wasn’t the weirdest part. This was in a part of the crystal forest where the standing crystals didn’t emit their own light, which Taylor found even more creepy than normal. Worse, part of that crystal’s surface was covered by a cord like hers. There were so many, it looked like electrified hair was coming off the crystal.

 “Okay, not Scion,” Janesha declared.

“What makes you so sure?” She really didn’t want it to be Scion, but it was nice to hear her friend say it.

 “If these were really connected to that golden freak, he’d have been all over me when I was plucking this bitch like a chicken. Just like I was when the Simurgh drop-kicked you across the moon’s surface.” Looking down at the ball in her hand, her lip curled in repulsion. “Which reminds me …” She closed her fingers, crushing the sphere to dust. The cord leading to the crystal winked out, and a moment later so did the cord leading from the crystal to the knot. “One down … lots to go.”

It was then that Taylor realised what her friend was implying. ‘Wait—wait—wait-a-minute! Are you saying all those thick cords are Endbringers?”

 Janesha nodded. “Direct lines to working constructs. Why?”

 Taylor pointed at the crystal in horror. “That’s a hell of a lot more than three!”

 “I guess the others haven’t made their appearance yet.”

 Taylor had a hard time keeping herself upright. The more her thoughts bounced around the possibility that each of these thicker cables was an umbilical cord to an Endbringer, the harder it became, until her legs folded under her and she sat down on the ground with a heavy bump. “Hey! Are you okay?” Janesha was suddenly in front of her, holding her shoulders. “Shit, Taylor. Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

 “There has to be at least twenty Endbringer cables there!”

 Janesha looked over her shoulder briefly. “Yeah. So?”

 “Just three have almost destroyed my world, and all of those are still just waiting to come out?”

 “Breathe, Taylor. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to go find the hybrid and explain to him why he’s not going to release any more for shits and giggles, okay? There’s not going to be any more Endbringers to destroy your world. I’ll break all their spheres before I leave, if I have to.”

 “And what’s stopping him from making more?” Taylor asked, almost in defeat. “You’re not going to be here forever.”

“I know, but I’ll get into his head, and I’ll make him play nice. I won’t let him do this to you, okay, petal? You’ll be fine, and your world ’ll be fine. We’re gonna track him down, and we’re gonna make him stop. Okay?”

Taylor breathed through the lightheadedness until her thought began to crystallise once more. “Yeah," she said, bobbing her head, even as Janesha slid her hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet. “We can do this. Wherever or whoever the hybrid is, you have to be more powerful than him, right?”

 “Exactly,” Janesha replied, dusting her off, if only to give her more time to recover. “Now, let’s go pay the sick shit a visit.”

 Part 17