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Silence settled around the fire at her shockingly loud voice, even she was startled by her own fervor.

  “Is that so? You don’t like me talking about your little boyfriend?”

  Brandon sat up and flexed his arms; he was the biggest of all of the people around the fire that night and he knew it.

  “Grow up!” She snapped, not impressed by his posturing.

  “Hey everybody cool it!”

  Dillon patted the air placatingly, a look of apprehension on his face as he scanned outside the circle of firelight. The last thing any of them wanted was the lawkeeper showing up and levying a fine against them for their little fire.

  The sight of Nameless returning to Kettering had a particularly strong impact on Cordelia. Her sister Helen had all but dragged her outside to see what the fuss was about, and he just walked right past them, a veritable horde of women around him, though what impacted her most wasn’t the various monster girls or even the gloriously winged Valkyrie, it was the heavy look on his face.

  Wherever he had been, she was certain that tragedy had struck.

  So she had quickly joined the others in speculating. But while most of them wanted to know about the Valkyrie, she just wanted to know what could have happened to put that look in the young man’s eyes.

  She shook her head out of her thoughts and looked around the fire; she was a bit surprised at the fresh young faces staring back.

  Why am I even here? Most of these kids are still in school.

  Cordelia wasn’t much older, but she was at the age where a few short years can make a major difference in maturity.

  That and she’d had cause for a great deal of soul searching of late; being dressed down by Nameless in the middle of the market had a major impact on the proud young woman.

  She had been forced to concede that somewhere along the way she had become a shallow, vain and altogether stuck up bitch.

  “Look babe, I’m sorry.”

  Brandon had sidled up beside her while she was considering the others. The two of them had been the on-again/off-again couple all throughout their youth, though they had been off-again for well over a year now.

  Not to say she hadn’t had a few slips, she did appreciate his abs, even if his attitude was garbage.

  It was painfully clear that he was hoping she would slip again tonight, but the memory of Nameless’s face kept intruding into her mind and she couldn’t help but contrast the two young men.

  The comparison did not work out favorably for Brandon.

  “Don’t worry about it. Anyways, I’m going home. I still need to set out some loaves for my dad.”

  Being one of the local baker’s daughters did have the advantage of providing her with a ready-made excuse to get out of whatever Brandon had planned for the pair of them, though it didn’t stop him from sulking.

  As she walked towards home she mentally compared the two men again: Brandon’s sulk and Nameless’s sorrow.

  She shook her head, deciding that enough was enough. The Katje, Erica, had been right, Cordelia had been a shit to him and he hadn’t deserved it.

  It was time to woman-up and apologize.

  And if she happened to find out a bit about where he had gone or what he had been doing, so much the better!

  __________

  While Brandon and the others were eagerly starting their fire and gossiping, Nameless and the many girls around him had arrived at Paul’s.

  The group stood in front of his house, intending to say hello and introduce him to Volka.

  Without a word Oldeera and her Hornets buzzed off to investigate the region. They had done that a lot since leaving the Bastion, scouting around the Empath in order to spot potential threats to relay to the Amazons.

  Despite their first meeting, Oldeera was all business when it came to protecting him.

  The Amazons likewise scattered all over the old man’s property as they too ensured the area was secure. And while the thought of more monster girls putting themselves in harm’s way bothered Nameless to no small degree, he set aside his discomfort and knocked on Paul’s door.

  After waiting for a few moments he knocked again, but there was still no answer.

  With a shrug he assumed that the old farmer was out with his Cockatrices for an evening walk but Erica’s ears twitched towards the house and she slowly shook her head in disbelief.

  “Erica?”

  “He’s home alright, and busy by the sounds of it!”

  “He’d want us to say hello at least… we’ve been gone so long.” Milly said uncertainly.

  They were all looking at Erica who was clearly fighting not to laugh when the door finally opened a crack and Paul’s head poked out, his wispy white hair was a mess and his face was flushed.

  “Nameless! Good to see you boy! Glad you made it back okay!”

  “Yeah, um, are you alright?”

  “Er, yeah. Just a bit indisposed at the moment.”

  There was an odd cooing sound from behind the door and he pulled his head back inside to whisper to someone on the other side.

  “Half a moment! Tell the others to rein it in for a minute okay chicken?”

  Erica couldn’t stop herself anymore. With a snort she began to laugh, doubled right over and holding her stomach with both arms.

  “Yeah right sour-puss, haha! Laugh it up!”

  The old farmer shot her a dirty look, his weathered face flushing even more.

  “Paul, what’s going on? Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Milly looked really worried and his expression melted at her concern.

  “Yeah I’m fine Moon-Pie. It was that bloody Dragon! I don’t know what she did to me with that magic fire but I feel like a teenager again!”

  “Oh… oh!”

  The Minotaur blushed as she realized what was going on, and then began to giggle with Erica.

  Ophelia obviously wanted to join them but was conscious of Paul’s feelings and held herself back with one hand covering a little cough.

  Nameless, Volka and Nina all still looked slightly confused.

  Paul huffed and ran his naked arm over his hair, and Nameless absently noticed that he actually had surprising muscle definition for a man his age.

  “Look, me and the hens, I haven’t handled their stones for years. Figured I was too old for them to bond with, not that they didn’t try to convince me otherwise! But once Xalanth breathed on me… I couldn’t help it!”

  Nina snorted as she too clued in; though she had turned from the conversation to look out into the fading light.

  The Amazons and Hornets weren’t the only ones on the defensive.

  Seeking a distraction, Paul turned to the angel at his side.

  “Right, so who is the golden lady? Volka I presume?”

  “Indeed, I am Volka Gundrsdotter, Lightbringer of the Fourth Heavenly Host and wife of Nameless the Empath.”

  Her tone was formal, but she was smirking slightly at the old man in the house.

  Paul’s eyes boggled at her words, but there was another, much more insistent cooing noise from behind the door and a wing appeared for a half second in the gap and buffeted his naked calf.

  “Huh, a Valkyrie! Well ain’t that just a thing! I’d love to hear the whole story but I-er, I have some chores to attend to that can’t seem to wait.”

  Erica and Milly were holding each other gasping for breath now as Volka nodded.

  “Indeed, chores build character. Make sure you don’t hold back though, really give it to those chores hard. Maybe spank them a bit if they’re into that.”

  Her angelic composure was completely unruffled by the licentious nature of what was happening in the house and Paul gave the golden being an incredulous look, before shaking his head with a chuckle.

  “Trust him to find a Valkyrie with a smutty mind.”

  As the old man bid farewell and shut the door, Nameless was still clueless.

  “What chores could he possibly have this late in the day?”

  Ophelia reache
d over and patted his head gently.

  “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” She demurred.

  Milly fell over with Erica on top of her.

  The mirth was a welcome change to their mood of late, but sadly it was short-lived.

  The shadow of Jonathan and Evadne loomed large over Nameless and his bond-mates.

  Even the sight of their home coming into view in the falling darkness did little to quell their anxieties. In fact, the prospect of spending the night in the cold and lifeless cottage added to their depression.

  “It’s so weird being home again.” Nameless said quietly as they went inside.

  Milly picked up her polka dot hanky from off the love seat.

  “Oh dearheart, that needs to be washed I think.” Ophelia outstretched a hand as if to stop her.

  “Paul gave this to me, when we first met. I forgot it when we left. So much has changed.”

  The Minotaur gave a big sniff while Erica rubbed her back.

  Nina looked to Nameless who was standing now in front of the hearth

  “Should I get a fire going? Or should we just call it a night?”

  “Let’s call it a night.” Volka ventured; “I’m sure this place will look and feel more like home in the light of morning.”

  Nameless agreed and they spent a few minutes changing the bedding in the back room, before settling in for the night.

  Their thoughts were still troubled by Kar’s final moments and the dark machinations of the other Empath and the last Chimera.

  __________

  At the bottom landing of a set of rickety stairs, Miranda Holt’s grey eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light of the basement pub as she scanned the smoky darkness, her uniform drawing more than a few wary looks from the patrons.

  At her hip her little frog girl Jezebel fidgeted as she took in the rough atmosphere of the dive bar.

  “Mistress, I don’t like it here.”

  Miranda snorted in agreement.

  “I know baby, but this is where my contact says she was last seen.”

  Jez’s arm shot out quickly.

  “Look! That one is definitely a rapist!”

  With her usual tact, the Gripau pointed accusingly at one of the patrons, who spat out a mouthful of his beer in alarm at the sudden accusation.

  Miranda rolled her eyes at the distrustful frog.

  “Jez, behave. I’m sure he’s a… nice guy.”

  She frowned at the sight of the unkempt man, who quickly looked away from the judgment in her gaze.

  “Couldn’t we have brought Kala or Jan at least?” Jez whined.

  “Only if we wanted to guarantee a fight, we’re just here to talk. Now come on.”

  The skeptical Gripau hopped after her mistress the rest of the way down the stairs and past the various pub denizens, before making their way to the bar against the back wall.

  The sweaty bartender’s beefy forearms were sleeved in tattoos and he crossed them over his chest as they approached.

  “We’re up to code Aegis. I don’t need no trouble here.”

  “A shame, I’m looking for trouble. And I’m told she favours this shithole.”

  His eyes narrowed at her words.

  “Trouble got a name?”

  Miranda briefly scanned the dimly lit interior; the hubbub of their arrival had died down, various muted conversations resuming, though she received more than her share of cautious glances before returning her gaze to the tattooed man.

  “Lilly, Wolfen. Lots of scars, and a helluva temper when she’s loaded. She bin in lately?”

  His eyes widened at the description, he then gave a quick nod before jerking his head to a dark corner of the basement pub.

  A familiar figure was sitting at the table he indicated; the other patrons had given her a wide birth.

  “Like I said, don’t want trouble here. If you can convince her to drink and fight somewhere else, then more power to you.”

  Miranda mumbled a thank you as she moved to the corner and took a long look at her quarry.

  She looked like hell.

  Her blue-grey hair was shaggy and unkempt while her frosty eyes were bloodshot and were having difficulty focusing on the human woman so boldly standing before her.

  Empty bottles littered the table; she had clearly started her evening early.

  The big Wolfen growled at the intrusion as Miranda leaned on the flat surface.

  “Fuck off Miranda, I’m not done yet.”

  “Tough shit, it’s time to get back to work.”

  A few bottles wobbled and fell over as the Wolfen stood with a snarl, pushing her table back and overturning the chair behind her.

  She was several inches taller than Miranda, not to mention loaded with muscles, claws and teeth, but the shorter woman didn’t back down.

  “Fun’s over Lil. Time to sober up, you’re needed.”

  “I’m warning you, back off!”

  Though she was unsteady on her feet, the pub’s patrons backed away from the brewing conflict.

  Drunk or no, she was still a Wolfen pack-leader.

  Miranda gave her a contemptuous look despite her size and obvious irritation.

  “Or what? You couldn’t fight your way out of this dump the state you’re in. Let alone take on two Aegis operators.”

  Lilly snarled even louder, causing several of the inhabitants, human and otherwise, to leave in search of a safer place to drink.

  “You are such a bitch Miranda! I’m gunna- Wait… two?”

  Her confused gaze worked over the Aegis operative, finally spotting Jez’s head peeking around her hip, the frog’s enormous yellow-green eyes wide as she clung to Miranda’s thighs.

  The sight of the little green Gripau had a dramatic effect on the pack-leader.

  She blushed and began to stammer.

  “Oh! I din’t see you there, Jezzy, er Jezebel. Sorry, I mean, um… how are you?”

  She finished plaintively while Miranda fought down a smirk.

  Jez’s reply was slow in coming as she gazed up at the Wolfen.

  “I’m okay. You’re not really going to fight us are you? I know you’re bigger than me, but I’ll punch you in the nose if you hurt my mistress!”

  The drunken Wolfen’s mouth fell open at the smaller girl’s bravado and she shook her head vehemently.

  “Oh no! I wouldn’t. We’re, me and Miranda I mean, we’re just talking is all.”

  The Aegis operative had to cough to cover her laughter as Jez beamed at the big wolf girl; she hadn’t brought the frog for nothing.

  There were a few awkward seconds before Miranda spoke again.

  “Come on, it’s time to go. We have a mission.”

  The Wolfen blinked blearily.

  “Don’t you usually just work with Jan? The hell you need me for?”

  The grey haired woman sighed.

  “Because we’re hunting an arms dealer Lil, we need the backup and I figured you could do with a bit of payback for Katie.”

  A dramatic shift came over the inebriated Wolfen at the mention of her dead pack-mate; she stood tall and swallowed as tears took her eyes. Looking back at the table and the mess of bottles strewn all over it, she reached out and took up the one she had been nursing and considered it for a moment.

  Then deliberately upturned it and poured its contents on the floor.

  “What the fuck are we still doing here then?”

  Chapter 2:

  The Baker’s Lament

  The following morning Cordelia spent a great deal of time in the kitchen of the bakery on a personal project: when she was feeling down, she liked to eat something sweet. So she prepared a nice apple pie, her mother’s recipe.

  “Baking a pie?”

  Her father had a grasp of the obvious that set her teeth on edge sometimes.

  “Yes.”

  “For Brandon or…”

  She knew that he didn’t think much of the smith’s son, and really, neither did she.

  “No.”
r />   “Oh.” His cautious tone turned hopeful; “For me?”

  “No!”

  She could practically hear his face fall at her harsh response; fortunately she didn’t have to see him pout as a customer called from the front.

  “Who are you making it for?” Helen asked in a conspiratorial whisper.

  Her younger sister was busily kneading a pile of bread dough at their father’s orders, sharing the broad table with Cordelia.

  “None of your business that’s who!”

  “Cordelia! Don’t be nasty!” Her older sister Christine said.

  She was unloading a tray full of tarts fresh from the oven but paused to rebuke the middle child.

  Cordelia just rolled her eyes in response and put the finishing touches on her pie before sliding into one of the massive ovens.

  She rolled the remains of her pie dough into a usable ball to store in the icebox for later, her father had taught all three of his daughters not to waste anything and she had learned the lesson well.

  The next several minutes she spent dodging her sisters’ questions and sifting some flour for her father while she waited for her pie to cook.

  Once it was finished she all but sprinted out of the kitchen, leaving her family confused at her odd behaviour.

  Shortly afterwards she carried the cloth-covered dessert through town, the plate still warm in her hands. She had delivered bread to old farmer Fletcher before but it wasn’t until she had one foot on his porch steps that she realized she didn’t actually know where Nameless lived...

  “Hello, Cordelia right?”

  She nearly leapt out of her skin as the farmer emerged from his barn to her left, pulling his suspenders over his shoulder and tucking his shirt in at the same time; absently she noted that he had hay and a few feathers in his wispy white hair…

  “Your pa must have made a mistake in his books! I didn’t order anything!”

  She was about to explain when a pair of very ruffled Cockatrices came out of the barn behind him, bits of straw in their hair as well.

  No freaking WAY!

  She tried and failed to keep the look of shock off of her face at what had obviously been going on in the barn.

  “Ah, well anyhow, best you run along back to Tom and sort this out eh?” The farmer coughed delicately.