"So tell me again how you were 'attacked' by these men." the bored sounding voice repeated.

I was in a bland room with charcoal fabric paneled walls with a single door. The air smelled stale and antiseptic, like it had been cleaned a while ago with strong chemicals. I was sitting in one of the two simple plastic chairs with a conference room table with chipped veneer between me and the person across from me. He was in his late-thirties, early-forties, with a shaved head obviously intended to hide a receding hairline. Rumpled gray chinos, shiny black belt, and a lighter gray golf shirt tucked into a growing waistline completed the ensemble. Standing in the corner was an alert woman in her possibly late-twenties with her light-brown hair parted in the middle and pulled back in a tight bun. She wore a nylon jacket with "SLPD" above the breast, navy blue slacks, and blue button down. Her police tactical belt bristled with pockets and equipment, including the smooth black grip of a pistol.

"From where I sit, there's not a scratch on you." The older police officer in front of me leaned his head against his forefinger and thumb, looking pointedly at my wrists and face.

Damn Swift Recovery. All the scratches and bruising from being restrained and thrown about like luggage at an airport had disappeared completely by now. But that hadn't reduced my fatigue or quelled the nervous cramping in my stomach.

"Like I said, he didn't tie me up that tightly. Maybe he didn't expect me to get up so quickly." While I was visually unscathed, my head was pounding from a focus-deficient hangover. I'd long turned off any skills, as it didn't take much to tell these officers were suspicious, but also at a loss for how to wrap it up neatly. They were going through the motions now, hoping the physical evidence being gone over elsewhere would turn up something worth pursuing. "That's how I was able to get myself free." My voice was deadpan and dead tired.

"Right." He made a show of looking at the notepad in front of him. "That's when you snuck up behind the guy who didn't kidnap you, and bashed him in the head." He looked up at me with a weak smile. I wondered in a lightheaded daze what they'd do if I simply passed out on the desk. Probably chuck me in the drunk tank and book me for vagrancy.

I opted to remain silent. We'd covered all of this, a few times.

His smile faded and he narrowed his eyes.

"We found you and your friend at the scene, one man dead with evidence of apparent torture, and another tied up and suffering from an untended wound from blunt force trauma to his head." His voice had lost its lassitude and turned hard. "The only weapons found at the scene was a large cable spool with blood on one end and your fingerprints on the other, and a gun found in your possession." He paused to let his words sink in. "Now we can draw our own conclusions, but it would help us all get home faster if you leveled with us. Maybe it's like you said," He changed tactics, before I could speak. "This was a kidnapping gone wrong. You and your friend escaped somehow, then decided to make sure they'd never be able to do it again." He paused to gauge my reaction.

I sighed and blinked slowly, not engaging.

"You picked up the gun they put down, and forced the big one into the van. You tied him up like he tied you up."

"So now you believe I was tied up." I remarked bitterly. My head was pounding, doing nothing to soften my mood.

"Your friend did it," He shrugged, unphased. "Then you watched as she took out her fear and rage on the bastard while he couldn't fight back. He deserved it, I get it." He tried his weak smile once more. "Maybe I'd've done the same." He leaned back in his chair, letting his arms dangle loosely on the armrests. he looked up at his fellow officer. "Right? Would could blame you?"

"We called you." I repeated tiredly.

"When things went bad, sure. You were the victims, right?" He shrugged again.

I shook my head and waited. I wondered how Bushra was doing. They'd been dropping unsubtle hints that she was saying all kinds of things to protect herself. I'd had to keep myself from chuckling at the caricature they were trying to paint of Bushra as a scared, selfish traitor out to save her skin. Even without Augur's Insight, all it took was one look at her Status to lay bare the lie:

Disposition: Loyal

I sat still and closed my eyes, resting my head on my propped up arm. Unbidden, a huge yawn contorted my features and I covered it with a open palm over my face. I was so, so tired, but that seemed to get under his skin.

"Look," he began, slapping a hand open palmed on the desk, when suddenly the door swung inwards and another officer leaned in.

"Her lawyer's here." He jerked his head back toward the hallway and waited.

'What?" The seated officer drew his brows down in a deep frown. I sat upright and echoed him in my mind. A lawyer? Was Bushra able to contact someone? I hadn't asked to call anybody, and they hadn't offered so far. I assumed we'd be done once they had exhausted their questions, though now on the third round of answering essentially the same things I'd begun to wonder about my strategy. Also, I couldn't think of anyone I wanted to wake up this early in the morning. Kris had flashed in my mind, but I owed her so much already. I'll tell her all about it later, but there was no reason to drag her down here.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

The male officer stood up and went outside with the other one, leaving me alone with the woman who remained standing and watching me with wary eyes.

It didn't take long before the door opened again, and a well-dressed individual in a three-piece suit entered, nodding to me and the officer in the corner. The suit was a cream-colored affair with thin lapels and gold buttons, with a wide white silk tie with a black half-circle emblazoned just beneath the knot. My mouth hung open in shock, but I had to admit it was a sharp look together with their tightly curled white hair and perfectly triangular white beard. Lex's serious mouth turned up at the corners in a tight smile, followed by a warmer voice than I'd ever heard from them. "Ms. Carrigan? Time to go home."

Leaving the hall, I saw Bushra and Iter in the main office. Bushra gave me a weak little smile, but Iter was all grins.

"Mai!" He held up a hand in a beckoning wave.

The officer who'd been interrogating me was standing next to them with a look like he's swallowed something sour. "Ms. Carrigan and Ms. Patel are material witnesses to a suspicious death, and… "

"And, pursuant to Penal Code section 1326 of the legal code of the State of California, a material witness can be released on their own recognizance," Lex intoned, undeterred. "Furthermore, Our client has received no warrant or subpoena required by section 1334, and section 1334.5 also provides for the release of a material witness, if such witness were a victim of human trafficking, which Our clients maintain was the case. In addition, per section 1337, if testimony can reasonably be preserved through other means…"

"Fine! Fine! You're free to go! Get outta here, and take them with you!" The officer cut Lex off, who seemed to be warming to the topic. He motioned frantically to a nearby desk where my bag was resting. I noticed Bushra already had hers.

"Your stuff is here, all accounted for. We'll be holding onto the gun, if your friend here doesn't mind." He jutted a chin stubbornly at Lex.

"The weapon is not Our clients', and therefore not our concern." Lex answered smoothly. "We do hope you will consider the demerits of allowing the perpetrators of this affair to regain access to it, of course." They raised an eyebrow elegantly in inquiry.

"What? Uh, yeah. We're retaining the gun as evidence." He turned to the other detective at his elbow and asked in a not very quiet voice. "Who is this guy?"

"Merely a humble servant of Our client and the Law." If Lex'd had a hat on, I sincerely believe they would have tipped it. "Good day to you, gentlemen." They nodded slightly, and pressed a hand lightly on my back toward the door. I obliged and led the way out of the station, absolutely failing to keep a bemused smile from my lips.

✦ ✦ ✦

"How did you know where we were?" I rounded on Iter and Lex after we'd reached the street. The sky was just starting to brighten from a deep purple to lighter violets and oranges. The air was chill, and I wrapped my arms around my body despite the warmth of my coat. White clouds formed in the air as I spoke, and I saw Bushra's breath condensing in the brisk pre-dawn glow as well. Watching their faces intently in the brightening dark, I noticed the two gods emitted no puffs of white of their own.

"We always know where you are." Iter replied, as if this was obvious. "When We saw you had ceased traveling a second time, We investigated and discovered it was a police station. We were concerned, and convinced Our kin Lex to accompany Us to collect you."

"You mean you could have come get us at any time?" I yelled, letting my pent up anger and frustration spill out.

"Uh, maybe we should have this discussion later?" Bushra was looking nervously back towards the station doors. They were closed, but dim figures could be seen moving around inside. "Like, somewhere else?"

I closed my eyes tightly and took a deep breath, then looked at the three of them. I was too tired to argue with them at this point. "She's right. Where's the car?"

"Car?" Iter asked, head titled to one side. Lex merely stared at me from beneath heavily lidded eyes.

"Yeah. How are we getting home?" I rubbed the tense spot between my eyebrows in weary exhaustion and envisioned the warm softness of my bed.

"We traveled here under Our own power," Lex replied. "Machines were an unnecessary inconvenience."

"Wait, so how are we getting home?" My brain had stopped working, and I looked back and forth between them in bleary-eyed stupor.

"Oh hell," Bushra exclaimed, catching on first.

"What?" I asked, uncomprehending.

"You mean we have to call for a ride?"

✦ ✦ ✦

Darryn, the ride share diver, dropped us off outside my house. He was the third ride share we attempted, after the first two were abruptly canceled. We caught on, and moved about a block or so down the street, away from the station, and connected with Darryn first try.

"Hope you all have yourselves a blessed day!" He called out with a wide smile after we opened the doors.

Darryn was a talkative type, who'd kept up a steady stream of bright conversation the whole trip home. Thankfully, that was brief. Iter was the only one who engaged with him from the front seat, the rest of us were packed into the back of his Hyundai Elantra in silence. I was in the middle, uncomfortably sandwiched between Bushra and Lex. Bushra slumped against the door, facing out the window, while Lex was sitting as straight as a beam, immovable even during the slight bumps and turns in the road. When I saw the seating arrangements, I offered Bushra the front, but she demurred, choosing the driver-side rear seat instead.

"We graciously accept your blessing, Darryn and offer you one of Our own," Iter replied solemnly, as we all stepped out of the vehicle. A strange light seemed to suffuse the car momentarily, and Darryn's smile slipped for the first time.

His grin rapidly recovered, though, and he waved back with enthusiasm. "Why, thank you kindly! God bless!" And he sped away.

"Indeed," Iter replied to the fading tail lights.

Lex looked at Iter sourly. "The child hardly did anything worthy of such a miracle."

"Why, what did Iter do?" I wondered, curious.

"Only a minor blessing for his Journey." Iter said, waving one hand dismissively. "His Path intersects with so many. You could say he was Our Disciple, of a sort." He smiled at me, and followed Bushra who was already moving toward the door.

"Hmph," Lex responded, and moved to fall in step behind.

My feet were leaden and my head felt thick with fog as I brought up the rear.

I was home.