***

Daravoi left before me, to recon the nightclub, or so he claimed. His reasoning was that if it’s a trap, it’s a trap for me, so he might smell something fishy without being caught.

He sends me the all-clear, and I walk a few miserable, freezing minutes to the Moonbreaker. The street is lit, but all around it, there are only abandoned factories, so it feels like walking through a ghost city.

As expected, the woman at the entrance takes my gray payment and doesn’t even try to scan my wrist.

I meet Daravoi in the changing room – there are lockers to leave jackets and thermal wear. Dara watches me, critical, as I take off my coat. He takes a good, long look at me.

“You look like a hooker,” he rules.

“The cheap kind, of the expensive kind?” I ask, shouting to be heard over the thrumming beats coming from the dance hall.

“Middle of the road,” he answers.

I shrug. “That will do. The next time we meet a mysterious mage in a night club, I’ll go for expensive and refined hooker. Also, how come you get to wear real clothes while I’m wearing a glorified fishnet?”

Daravoi wears a fluorescent orange tank top and shorts, and went heavy on the blue makeup - eyeliner, lipstick, nail polish. He highlighted his pansexual tattoo with some fluorescent orange paint, and added looking for a partner in blue. He switched his usual smattering of metal piercing for incredibly trashy fluorescent ones.

Not exactly office attire, but he wouldn’t get expelled from school the moment he sets foot inside.

“I look disreputable enough already,” he says, pointing at the intricate, twisting permanent tattoos flowing along his left arm - only Kalestrans use those. “Everyone will assume I’m here to sell drugs. We’ll draw less attention if we look like workers.”

We leave our warm clothes in the locker - it would usually lock by ID, but significantly, here there are physical keys - and together with a stream of chattering people, we enter the dance hall.

The noise hits me like a wall, together with the changing, colored light. But I like it, it’s like stepping into a weird dream. And this place is cool!

“Whoa,” I say, looking around, “I thought this wasn’t a fancy place. It looks fairly expensive to me.”

“The Moonbreaker is sketchy as in they don’t check IDs, won’t call the police and you can sell illegal drugs,” Daravoi answers, shouting to be heard. “It’s not a smoky den. Crime pays, you know.”

The dance hall is a huge circular room, covered by a vast geodesic dome - it must be a repurposed glasshouse. The triangular panes of glass on the dome are all lit and brightly colored, it’s like being inside a huge kaleidoscope.

The entrance is above the dance floor, so we walk down a staircase to join the party. The light comes from the floor itself, which glows in a shifting pattern - it takes me a moment to realize it looks like the full moon.

Hundreds of people dance inside the hall, their movements jerky as they follow the electronic beats. The floor lights up with shifting bright colors, changing in time with the music. The light from below, ever-changing, makes everything look surreal - like doing acid. Or touching the Else.

I have to hand it to Dara, I blend in pretty well – neon colors and net-like clothes are pretty widespread, even if most people don’t show quite as much skin as I do. A lot of the dancers highlighted some tattoos with fluorescent paint: looking for partners, looking for sex, looking for drugs, usually. I should have worn some of those myself.

Ringing the dance floor, there are also platforms with pole dancers and sex workers trying to entice clients, and I realize that yeah, I’m definitely dressed like one. Many have my same tattoo, looking for fun, but it’s usually on the chest, in metallic colors. So I guess I look like a half-hearted hooker.

People look at us - mostly look at me, actually. The Veil is thin here, and through the Else, I feel their desire brush against my mind. It takes me a moment to realize that what they desire is, well, me.

It’s a strange feeling, but I don't mind it. I had people ogling at me before, but this time it feels exhilarating rather than disgusting. A young man looks at me, and invites me to a dance. He’s tall and muscular, a few years older than me, and his brown skin glistens with sweat. After all, why shouldn’t I join him? I take a step forward…

“Sorry! We’re looking for someone!” Daravoi yells, pulling my arm as I approach the stranger.

The young man looks puzzled for a moment, then shrugs and raises his arms.

“I didn’t mean to steal your partner, bro” he says to Daravoi, stepping back.

I look at Daravoi, as he pulls me away from the dance floor, to one of the bars ringing it. There are several smaller, half-enclosed niches where people drink, chat, kiss. Some lead to side rooms where, I guess, illegal stuff happens. Or sex. Or both.

“Are you out of your mind?” Daravoi yells, but he sounds worried rather than angry. “We’re here for a reason. Dance later. I didn’t think it was your thing anyway.”

I shrug, and lace my arm with his.

“We’re supposed to wait for the mage, right? We might as well have some fun.”

He looks at me, then shrugs. “You have hidden depths, I guess. Anyway, we can’t just dance and hope she finds us. We must be careful. This could still be a trap. Have you forgotten already? Fuck, we had a silver knife pointed at us yesterday!”

I remember the bounty hunter, and the gangster with a gun before that. The feeling of shock that they could kill me, that we were a heartbeat away from violence.

Yes, I really should focus. But the music and the light are so enticing, and the last few days have been so stressful - running away, changing rooms every evening. Would it be that bad to dance for a little bit? I always loved dancing, it’s the perfect way to blow off steam.

No, wait. I didn’t always love dancing, I hate dancing, I hate being ogled at, what the Abyss…

It’s a Lie, one I spun without magic - but it’s very real for me, and incredibly, other people roll with it. They want me – my awkward, reclusive self.

I can be whomever I want, and people will believe it, even if I don’t use my power. The realization makes me feel powerful, even more than using actual magic.

“I could search for her,” I say, looking around, as Dara and I buy a shot each - the barman was starting to glare at us. I take a small sip and start scanning my surroundings.

“Don’t drink,” Dara puts a hand on my wrist, exasperated, “you ordered a shot laced with Bliss. It’s not a good time to be high.”

He’s probably right. Even if I really want to know how this place would look while being high. The lights, the dancers, the music, the energy - it would be awesome.

Well, fun later, like Dara said. Even if that’s a really boring plan. I look around, looking for… I don’t know, a good place for a creepy mind-mage to be.

She could be on the dance floor, but like Daravoi, she probably wouldn’t want to be distracted. She looked the serious type. So, she’s probably in the outer ring, where you can stand or sit quietly, and the lights are dimmer.

She could be any of the patrons at the bars, or enjoying the strippers, or in the darker niches people go to have some privacy - how could I find her? Even assuming she showed me her real face in the dream?

This is pointless. We could dance instead. But I’ll make a show of looking, to make Daravoi happy. Wouldn’t he like to dance?

Soon, my attention wanders to the dome’s glass panes, and I realize there are ghostly figures etched in each one - they change with the changing lights. Full moon, half moon, sliver moon. The moon, split by the Crack. The moon, intact. The moon, torn apart in two halves, as some say will happen as the Crack grows.

It takes me a moment to realize what’s so familiar about this - a spiral of different possibilities, of past and future and things that could be.

“It’s the Else,” I say, so surprised it shocks me out of the party mood for a moment.

“What? Are you ok, Kore?” Daravoi asks.

“I’m feeling great,” I say. “And I meant his place. It looks like the Else, the way I see it. A mage did the décor, I’m sure.”

Dara looks up, frowning.

“The Else looks very different to me,” he adds.

“The way we see the Else is unique to each of us, but I do believe this building is an attempt at depicting it,” a new voice says, making me jump. It’s a slight teenage girl who was drinking with her friends a moment ago. Definitely not the one who spoke in my dreams.

“Wait, are you…” I begin, but suddenly she frowns, she looks at me, then her drink.

“I…” she says, speaking very quickly. “I meant… can I offer you a drink?”

She spoke in an entirely different intonation from before - she had a Landfall accent, but now she sounds.

“I’m sorry, I’m waiting for someone!” I say, smiling and hoping it’s encouraging and not creepy. But why would it be creepy? I have a charming smile.

“Oh,” she says. “Sorry!”

She walks back to her friends, and I see some patting on the back in encouragement. I feel vaguely flattered - I think more people hit on me today than in the rest of my life, at least this blatantly.

“Wait, what…” Daravoi says, standing up to reach her, but I stop him.

“Don’t,” I say. “I’m pretty sure she has no idea about what she said. I think the mind-mage spoke through her. Well, the first part. The hitting on me looked legit.”

Daravoi looks at me, as if trying to understand if I’ve gone completely mad, then raises his hands in defeat.

“Mind-fuckers, you both,” he grumbles.

He has a point. If our creepy friend wants to play games, she’s not the only one who’s good at fucking with people. Time to take a little risk.

I peek into the infinite blue of the Else. The dancing crowd becomes a bonfire of sparks, their souls burning with emotion. I see them blaze and dim in sync with the music, it’s like watching flames dance to a tune. It draws me, I want to dance, to look in the Else and lose myself in the waves. It’s so mesmerizing, it takes me a moment to remember what I was doing.

I look at the girl who talked to me - her mind flickers with something, amusement, maybe a hint of shame. The more I look at her, the more her image splits, like the moon on the panes of glass above - a serious girl with a school uniform, a relaxed one playing videogames, one dressed in gauzy clothes, dancing with a shadowy figure. But her mind is always bright azure, without a hint of magic.

Except… there’s something. An impression, an afterimage. Like a golden web, dangling around the girl.

“You won’t find me this easily,” the barkeeper says, making me jump in surprise. He’s a man in his thirties, whose smile wasn’t that sharp a moment ago. He speaks with the same posh Landfall accent the girl used. He didn’t have it, when we asked for our drinks.

“Where are you, mind-fucker?” Daravoi asks. Forgotten Enemy, he makes me look like a skilled diplomat.

The barman laughs, though, a cold, slow laughter I remember from my dreams. A shiver goes down my back. I realize just how dangerous this mage is - she could have any random person stab me in the face, and nothing would be left to implicate her. She could probably make me stab myself.

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“Very little is given for free, in this game,” the barkeeper answers, his smile widening. I get the uncanny feeling that his smile doesn’t fit his face. “Information less of all. Walk across the dance hall. We’ll talk.”

The man’s face goes blank. He looks confused for a moment, just like the girl did, then he jolts.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” he says, “you were saying?”

In a sudden moment of stupid inspiration, I empty my laced shot and put it back on the counter.

“Another demon rain,” I order.

He gives me another shot of blue liquor. Soon, I feel my mind settling in the soothing clarity of the drugs.

Daravoi lean closer to me, so that the barkeeper can't hear his words. “Kore, she’s fucking with us, and I think she’s doing something to you,” he says, alarmed. He’s always so high-strung, he really should chill. “You’re acting weird. A different weird than usual.”

“She’s definitely fucking with us,” I say, “but that’s not why I’m stupider than usual. I did that myself. I swear I have a plan now, though.”

I wait a few minutes, feeling lighter and lighter as the drug takes effect. The colors of the dance floor’s lights grow deeper, more saturated. People dance, fluorescent paint blazing on their bodies - handprints, spirals and tattoo-like glyphs. They flash on their skins as the light changes. Everything is frantic, and yet it’s also slow, as if the dancers moved underwater.

I drag Dara to the dance floor. The Here and the Else aren’t so far apart, now. Why did I ever think they were? The Veil isn’t in the world, it’s in our minds.

“I’m just taking precautions,” a young person says, without stopping xir frantic dancing. “I mean you no harm. But I don’t let any stranger meet me in the flesh.”

“You said you wanted to talk in the waking world,” I say. “So come and talk.”

A woman in her thirties, who’s wearing little more than paint, approaches me. Her eyes flash deep blue as she smiles.

“Should we dance?” She asks me.

I look in the Else - it’s so easy, like opening my eyes. There’s a ghostly golden web around the woman’s mind. I try to follow it to the source, but it’s like trying to follow a single spiderweb’s thread.

We get closer, but I avoid touching her - she’s not really in her own body, it would be sexual harassment. Also, she’s old.

“You don’t know how to hide yourself,” the woman says, with a voice that isn’t hers. “You have power, but that makes it worse. You shine like a beacon in the Else, even when you’re simply looking around.”

“You knew that already,” I say. “Will you come and actually talk to us, or do you just mean to show off your powers?”

“I’ve no need to show off,” she says, “and I think I’ll watch you for a while longer. Unless you can find me.”

“Cool, I love stupid games!” I answer, “can you let the woman go, though? It’s… kind of disturbing.”

“She won’t remember a thing,” the mind mage says, annoyed, but the woman walks away. She only frowns for a moment as she returns herself, as if trying to remember something. She doesn’t look at me - does she remember anything of the last seconds?

“I really don’t like this. Let’s go away,” Dara says, rubbing his arm tattoo, as if to ward off ill luck.

“Not yet,” I say. I feel lighter and lighter, I dance to the electronic music, and open myself to the Else, keeping my eyes open.

I look up at the glass tiles in the ceiling. Shifting, changing moons blink at me.

This is the shape of the Else, to me - a spiraling fractal of possibilities. I give up trying to make sense of it, I give up trying to see the details - I just let it unfold. Possibilities over possibilities play in front of me.

People who will speak, who could speak, who could have spoken to me. So many, so many - anyone in the club, but their smile is always the same.

And then more and more people, the possibilities branch and branch - but they all lead to the same face in the end. The mind-mage, the one fixed point in the swirling chaos.

With the Else so close, I open my eyes, and find her in the real world as well. There’s a raised platform on one side of the dome, with another bar - which looks exclusive, a bouncer stands by the stair.

There’s a woman alone at a table. She’s wearing a long black dress, and as I turn to her, raising my thumbs in victory, she jolts with surprise. Her eyes glow gold.

“Found you,” I say. I’m not talking to anyone, but I’m pretty sure she’ll hear “Happy now?”

She stands up abruptly, as if ready to run, but then she relaxes and sits down.

“That was unexpected,” a voice whispers in my mind.

“I’m full of surprises,” I say. “Ask my friend here.”

“What the fuck is happening?” Dara asks, exasperated.

“Looks like our creepy friend didn’t expect to be out-creeped,” I say, sticking my tongue out at the mind-mage.

“Finding me isn’t trivial, even for a trained mage,” she says, “I’m intrigued. Come. The bouncer will let you pass.”

We walk toward the raised platform, cutting through the dancing people. It all feels unreal, I can’t tell if I’m seeing the Else or not - maybe the second laced shot was too much. I want to laugh and laugh, I feel so light I could take flight.

“It’s midnight!” The DJ says, over the music. “The moon breaks! Demons rain from the sky! Party like it’s the end of the world!”

The music ramps up, people cry in joy, bodies press against me, and I have a vague memory that someone, once, hated the feeling of sweaty skin against xir own. But it only feels intoxicating right now. I almost forget what I was doing and join the dance, before Daravoi drags me to the stair.

“I love you,” I tell the bouncer. “You’re so good to let us through, even if we’re high as airships.”

The bouncer doesn’t answer me. She looks like she hasn’t even heard me. I laugh. Of course, Iketek is fucking with her too.

“Kore, you’re a fucking idiot,” Daravoi mouths.

“I love you too,” I say, hugging him. He looks at me, and I feel the flicker of doubt in his soul.

“Not romantically,” I say, “you’re way too blond. And you talk too little. And you’re too grim. But I love you. Really.”

There’s a little stab of pain in his mind, and I think I said something wrong, but I’m getting too confused to care.

“Focus,” he says. “Keep it together for ten more minutes. We’re not safe yet.”

I have a memory of armed people waiting outside a room, and it’s like a slap to the face.

Fuck, I’m high. Like, really high, the lights seem so beautiful, so bright, and I feel a connection to each of those people - their minds flicker, and I feel their emotions, the lust and anger and joy and…

I bite my lip. Focus, I need to focus.

I need to be a person who can take two shots of Bliss and still be almost sober. I need to be a person who doesn’t make random, stupid actions. A veteran survivor of the underworld of magic. I could be that person, right?

The world becomes a little clearer- far from perfect, but I can tell what is in front of me, and the Material from the Else.

Apparently, Daravoi dragged me to a table while I was spacing out, and propped me on a chair.

A tall, fit girl in a black dress is sitting on the other side. Her skin is dark, and her blond hair is coiffed in a complex pattern of braids. Her eyes are green now, but I remember seeing them blaze gold.

“While stimulants and psychedelics can help reach the Else,” she says, looking at me, “one could question the wisdom of getting so high you can barely stand, while meeting an unknown party.”

“We know each other well enough,” I say, “didn’t you spend enough time in my dreams? And anyway, I’m sober now.”

Sober might be an overstatement, but I can sit upright and not slur words. I can still feel a pressure against my mind, the expanding haze of the drug. The Lie I made will work only that long against brain chemistry.

Can’t I make myself sober with magic? No, I realize. The trick cuts both ways - within my mind, a Lie with or without magic is the same thing, and I can’t think myself into soberness.

“So, why did you need us?” Daravoi asks, harsh.

Iketek raises her eyebrows.

“Need you?” She says. “Your command of the Art is so limited, you alerted every ThauCon in the city as soon as you used your powers. You need me.”

“But you want something from us,” I say, smiling. “Or we wouldn’t be here. So, can we get to the point? Before anyone starts asking why they can’t remember what they did, or why our eyes glow.”

She laughs. “I didn’t pick this place at random. Do you think people here expect to remember everything they did during the night? Or care if your eyes glow the wrong way? You are wearing fluorescent paint yourself. Which, I might add, combined with the fact you’re barely wearing anything, is somewhat gauche.”

She says the last word as if it were a grave insult.

For a sickening moment, my perspective shifts, the room is incredibly loud, the mass of bodies in the dance hall suffocating, and for the Abyss’ sake, why I’m basically naked in front of strangers? This feels like a stupid nightmare-

The moment passes, in a flash of annoyance. I’ll be whomever I want to be, tonight, and Iketek has no right to be judgmental.

“I’m not the one who suggested we meet in a nightclub, I’m more into ancient ruins and graveyards,” I say. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Look, I don’t mean to be hostile. But you wanted to talk to us, and here we are.”

She nods. “You have a point. I’m just… a little surprised. In several ways, some of which are good. But I’m not trying to be difficult, and I know for a fact you’re in good faith. So, my reason to contact you: I’m looking for mages for a job.”

“A job?” Daravoi asks. “like… you’re hiring us?”

“You really have no idea how this works, right?” She asks, looking at us, one after the other. “A job. An illicit operation. Stealing. Thieving.” She puts increasing emphasis on every definition.

“Uh,” I say. “That sounds cool. “We’re all kinds of criminals, you see. Criminallin’, that’s what we do.”

I give her thumbs up, then smile a wide smile. Am I high, or am I fucking with her for no reason? She has it coming either way.

She doesn’t look nearly as confused as people usually are with me.

“I don’t care if this is your Flaw, or you have an intrinsically childish demeanor,” Iketek says. She stresses flaw in a way that makes it sound significant. “What matters to me is, can you sound like a normal person if you need to? The job requires it.”

Pretty much everyone asks if I can just be normal, sooner or later. But she’s asking in a different way - she’s not annoyed or incredulous. She’s just asking if I can pass for normal the way my sister asked, are you familiar with commonwealth law.

“Xe can,” Dara says. “Xe’s actually pretty charming, when xe needs too. Xe just prefers being insufferable.”

Iketek nods, as if taking notes.

“See, I’m in Rakavdon for a job,” she says. “It’s a major operation, I’ll need partners. The risk should be minimal, but it’s delicate. And I need someone new to the scene.”

“Which scene?” I ask. I feel the strain of trying to focus on the conversation. My best shot is getting done with it quickly, so I can pass out and hope I don’t wake up in a silver cell.

“The magical underworld.” Iketek raises an eyebrow. “Which, clearly, you’re entirely ignorant about. But that’s exactly what I needed. A pity ThauCon found you before I did, but that shouldn’t be an issue, as long as you learn to hide your signature as soon as possible.”

“How can we learn? We need the book for that,” I say.

She scoffs.

“The Art of the Veil? To hide your signature? That’s like asking for a nuclear bomb to crack an egg. I can teach you to conceal your theta activity, at least well enough to evade ThauCon detection. Abyss, I’ll do that for free, it’s basic solidarity between rogue mages.”

I look at Dara. Hiding our magic was our main reason to seek the book. If she teaches us that, we could just walk away.

But… if hiding one's signature is such a small thing, what else does the Art of the Veil teach?

“What kind of job are we speaking of?” I ask. “We have fairly flexible morals. But we’re not into violent crime.”

“Then your morals aren’t flexible at all,” Iketek says, “and good luck in this line of work. That said, this isn’t a violent operation. My associate and I specialize in procurement of illicit goods. We’re here for a theft, and since we must attract as little attention as possible, violence is best avoided.”

Daravoi frowns. “And how can we do it better than you would? You can just walk to people and make them hand you anything. Like Kore does, but even easier.”

Iketek sighs. “That would be true, if I meant to steal some unimportant trinket. But this is a serious business. We must secure an object held by an institution, one which takes precautions, including against magic.”

“What institution? What are we stealing?” I feel so out of my depth I’m not even sure what I should worry about the most.

“Now, now, you won’t expect me to tell you everything at this stage." Iketek raises an eyebrow. She strikes me as someone who loves raising an eyebrow. “But since you’re clueless - we’re not going to rob a ThauCon vault. Just your local university. Still, it will need some subtlety, and someone who can pose as a student.”

My heart makes a small leap. I really wanted to go to University. I feel a stupid excitement at the idea of pretending to be a student. I can attend classes? Complain about exams in the cafeteria? And I won’t even need to study for real!

“I love this plan. And I love you. This is the best thing that ever happened,” I say.

She raises her both her eyebrows, now.

Daravoi is way less enthusiastic. “You’re barely older than us,” he says, narrowing his eyes at Iketek. “No offense. But we’ve been burned already. Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“Backup is always useful in a complex operation,” she says, haughty, but a little bit rigid.

“Liar,” I say, shaking a finger in front of her. “I can tell. Bullshit is my specialty.”

She shrugs, but doesn't relax her muscles.

“As you just surmised, I’m not good at acting,” she says. “My talents, magical and mundane, lie elsewhere. If you’re a better actor than me, it will help a lot. But mostly, with your power, you can make people accept your fake identity, without the invasive approach I’d need with mind-magic.”

“So, you need Korentis,” Daravoi says, “because xe’s an immature shit, but xe can make people believe that snow is hot and the moon is whole.”

“I wasn’t exactly lying about backup, either,” Iketek adds. “I usually work alone. But this is a delicate job. We could support each other in several ways.”

“Partners in crime, then!” I say, basically yelling, but I hope the music will drown anything. Me, Daravoi and Iketek. I know we can be a great team. “We should drink to it!”

Daravoi glares at me. “You definitely shouldn’t drink anything else,” he says, but seems to be a bit more at ease with Iketek. “Seems good, though. We still don’t trust you entirely. But if you were ThauCon, you’d have arrested us by now, let’s face it. If you teach us how to mask our signature, we’re yours for this job.”

“It doesn’t escape me that once I’ll have trained you in masking your signature, you’d be in a significantly better position to walk away from our agreement," she says, but it's clear she's considering it. She stays silent for a bit, playing with a braid.

Then, she shrugs. “But I did say I’d teach you either way. And the better you can hide your magic, the less likely ThauCon will find you, hindering my plans and significantly damaging your lives. So, I’ll teach you. Would the day after tomorrow be good?”

Daravoi nods, curt.

“Partners in crime, then,” she says, raising her glass. I giggle and raise an imaginary glass in turn.