Heat steamed in the chill night from deep wounds where blood warmed her talons. The griffin tore into her kill with zeal, using quick jerks of her beak to disembowel the beast. Its meat was warm and tender in a way no defrosted offal or oven roasted steak could compare. Nothing could match a fresh kill, and Karen devoured it ravenously, her exhausted wings draped across the pasture.

The kill had been easy. She’d spotted its rough form from high above, dove down, and then it was a simple matter to snare her talons through its hide and tear apart its windpipe. Compared to the rest of the day, it was a welcome change. No chaos, no confusion, no mystery or questions, just predator and prey. Bones to snap, organs to gorge, and blood to lick.

Sweet, simple, and victorious.

Maybe afterwards she’d take a haunch with her to find a warm sheltered spot to sleep in. She needed to sleep. Her brain couldn’t bother with plans beyond such immediacies.

“Lay flat, now.”

A deep voice boomed from the darkness, along with a dazzling flashlight beam. The griffin bristled, bloody feathers rising along her spine as she considered the silhouette. One biped, broad, with curly hair and dark skin. A pistol, a dangerous weapon, was at his belt, but his hands were occupied with the flashlight and a phone that he breathed into.

“Found C-394, collecting now. She might resist.”

Karen tensed at the words. He was hunting her? Alone? She loosed a low snarl, ripped a final billful of gore, and stalked around him.

“No surprise there,” His white grin caught the light like a crescent moon, “The big wigs just want you caught and Veiled, kid. But, if you think you can run? Go ahead. Let’s have fun.”

Her legs balled. She pounced. He sidestepped, the flashlight fell. She leapt again, vast shadow casting across the dark field as her wings stretched wide. Then she was airborne, free and clea-

BOOM.

Her right wing buckled from a thunderous impact. The gunshot echoed as she careened, screaming and flapping, to crash into the next field. High grass barely cushioned herimpact, and Karen curled, blindly feeling the blood and pain of her pinion. She’d been shot. Again!

Fury warred with fear, and she hunkered low in the grass, watching for any sign of the flashlight. She couldn’t fly, not after everything, but she could rip his throat out as long as she avoided the pistol. Fortunately, her coat blended well in the dark, even with a tattered jacket still caught around her wind-shoulders. Karen slunk low in the grass, darting along the shadow of the hedge, moving on paw pads and the knuckles of her claws.

Something heavy moved on the other side of the hedge. Karen stilled, low, muscles tensed to pounce as soon as he blundered away.

Instead, something huge smashed through the hedge and rammed into her. The griffin was thrown back, screaming, away from huge paws, flashing fangs and blazing eyes. The beast was otherwise a huge shadow, nearly the size of her meal, a low chuffing growl rolling from between its fangs.

She rolled, righting herself with one wing, keen fury filling her mind. This could be a meal too, she was always hungry, she just needed to bring it down. It snarled at her, and she feinted one way, then loped the other, twitched and leapt back from a whirling slam of its paws. That was an overextension, so she pounced, bringing her claws and talons down on its muscular back.

Sparks scraped off unbreaking hide. The creature bowed, impacted beneath her weight, but no blood soaked her talons, no scream escaped her foe. She might as well have tried to claw a building.

Fangs closed around her tail before she could escape, and the beast rolled. Karen found herself slammed down onto her shot wing, stars of every unimaginable colour flashing before her eyes. Then a heavy paw pinned her chest and wing. Victorious, or so it claimed. Karen screeched and slashed at him again, only for that maw to suddenly bend close. Hot, carrion breath wafted over her, and huge fangs brushed off her neck. The griffin went still, heart quivering as the fangs closed. It was barely a centimetre, a nip, but the message was clear- she had lost.

The beast released a rough chuffing growl again as she went limp. Was it laughing? Or some other language? Karen sighed, why did she need to think more?

Shortly, two bipeds appeared in dark clothes, with weapons and vials. Their light revealed the monster to be a great lion male, near as big as a horse. His copper fur was lined with patina, thick around the ugly shaggy mane, and a dumb horn crowned his brow. An ugly poorish brute compared to any griffin, even Alastair.

The police duo poured cold Veil into her beak, a cheap cloying potion that left her a weak exhausted teenager in a ragged black coat. They had her button up, then snapped cuffs onto her wrists, soberly giving some long speech about rights, before dragging her into the back of a van. At some point, the lion padded off and returned as the first hunter, chattering into his phone. Karen didn’t care. She could do nothing but clutch her skull in the horrible tight metal box as it rumbled off into the night.

* * * * *

“Good evening, Miss Thomson.”

The van was still and quiet inside. Heated voices barked and hissed outside. Karen dimly glanced up from her chained bloody hands to the partly open door. A beautiful woman in a suit stood there, midnight hair streaked with purple dye, sporting pink framed glasses on a slender nose.

“Huh… you’re with OAR…” She mumbled blankly, “Was the lion guy…”

“Noah. And I’m Verity.” The witch smiled perfect teeth, her voice smug and warm, “You do have a knack for trouble don’t you? Now, please don’t misbehave- we’re in the process of cutting a deal.”

Karen frowned through the pain and tiredness. “I didn’t… mean to. What happened to my Gramma?”

“You’re supposed to ask ‘what deal?’ Urgh, she’s alive, narrowly, her doctors believe she had a stroke. She’s being moved to intensive care.” Verity glanced at a figure outside. “Yes- so, here’s the issue. Alderbank Police Department rather wants to arrest you for assaulting an officer, several civilians, and livestock. But I feel I can clear all this up, or let OAR handle you at least, on one condition.”

The girl knelt low, gooseflesh prickling at the cold and horror. How close had her grandmother been to dying? Because of her?

“Karen.” The witch stepped up into the van, and knelt close, her eyes an indigo-blue, one perfectly manicured hand outstretched. “Let me read your mind, okay? I’ll clear things up, and get you into our custody. Just hold still, and relax as best you can.”

The handcuffs rattled as she startled, numb mind running over everything. She didn’t want arrested, locked away. She’d done all this to save Ollie from such a fate- hadn’t she. What if Verity found that secret- or Maddie’s true nature, or Sera’s existence?

“No.”

The witch blinked, and brushed glossy dark hair away from her ear, “Sorry, Miss Thomson, I know you’re tired, you’re not thinking straight. But if I don’t help, you’re going to a cell. Or worse. Understand?”

Karen forced her gaze to meet those uncanny eyes, and stood, shakily, “No. You’re not reading my mind.”

“Ha, you heard it- now, you and your freakshow can buzz off.” A man peered around the door, “We’ll handle justice.”

The witch stared at her, and stood slowly, her lips pursed tight. Then she turned and dismounted the van, shaking her head. “Very well. Good luck.”

* * * * *

The water ran red with blood. Karen slumped her head against the sickly yellow wall of the shower, rolling her shoulders under the lukewarm water. There was a phantom irritation there, a sourceless pain, but what wasn’t a pain today? Or yesterday, since it had to be three or four AM.

“Hurry it up in there, beast, we don’t have all night!” A drawling nasally voice echoed from the shower rooms entrance.

“Blood takes time, asshole.” She muttered, leaning back to wash away any dried gore around her lips, then shut off the water and grabbed a towel. The coat was gone, replaced with a simple cotton shirt and pants, that were still wide and baggy on her frame.

“Alright. I’m good.”

A copper skinned policewoman, with tight dark hair and heavy bags under her eyes peered in, and nodded. “Hands forward.”

Karen glowered at her, jaw clenched. It was all too tempting to call on the black iron amulet at her clavicle to break the Veil, to be herself. She could claw past this biped easily. Into the rest of the station. Then what?

“Turn around, against the wall.” She demanded louder, eyes wide, tense, hand on her holster.

Karen snarled but slowly obeyed, clunking her forehead against the ugly yellow tiles. Her arms were roughly grabbed and pulled back, cold metal snapping tight around her wrists, the position unnatural and awkward. Then the band around her throat was pulled, and her amulet was ripped away.

“Hey- that’s mine!” She tried to turn, but the cop held her handcuffs, staying at her back. “Give it back biped!!”

“It’s evidence. It’ll be returned when you’re released.” The woman slammed her against the wall, pinning her in place, “Do I need to call for backup?”

“It’s mine.” Karen hissed, wincing, “Get the hell away from my back!”

Reinforcements came quickly, like they did every time she’d acted slowly. She was frogmarched out of the bathroom, through several tough, narrow doors, and into a corridor. A large, part mesh room was near the fore, followed by tight narrow cells with metal doors and small windows. Karen staggered as she was pushed past it, digging her bare feet in.

“Move it- last on your right.”

Karen glanced at the door, baulked and twisted around, “That’s too fucking small.”

“Oh, well maybe don’t attack cops if you want a five star reception, princess.” The officer snarled.

“You seen me? You seen a griffin? No, you’re clueless bipeds,” She hissed, “That’s too small- use the big cage. Unless you’re going to keep wasting Veil on me?”

“The drunk tank? Nice try, beast, that’s for groups.” They shoved her forward, stumbling to collapse in the off-cream coloured cell. It was too tight, less than a single wingspan across, with a cot bolted to one wall, and a low toilet in the corner. Karen winced, breath catching in her throat- she couldn’t change here, she’d be crushed, she’d be broken, trapped in an egg she’d never break through.

Something wrestled with her hands. The manacle grip dropped away. She span, trying to duck under the biped’s arm. Its boot caught her in the gut, and she staggered back as the door slammed in her face. Karen rammed into it, panic welling up into a savage scream as she shoved and hammered against it. But the metal was unmoving, she was too weak.

She backed up to the wall, planted her heels, and envisioned the moment she’d landed on her prey. How it had bucked and writhed as her claws tore through its back, her perfect kill.

“Denrol.”

She wasn’t sure why she said the word- the amulet was gone, locked away, but she had enough dregs of power for this weak Veil. In an instant, she was grand again, talons bursting forth alongside a cruel beak. Karen rammed into the door, tail impacting the wall and wings cracking off the walls with a fresh surge of agony. To her credit, the door thrummed with the impact, and her scream drew a wide eyed look of terror from the cop outside. Then it was all she could do to headbutt, scratch and scrape at the door, a ball of anger, aching and tiredness.

The patter of blood on the floor eventually drew her eyes. She blinked at it, then to her talons, as if hoping a biped would be mauled on them. But the sharp black hooks were clean, and Karen rolled wearily as she followed the trail of blood up her wing, to a scorched circle through her flesh. The bullethole was oozing blood, barely wide enough for her to see through, which was certainly a horrid impediment for flying. She kicked and butted at the door again, cursing in Avian, while her tail broke the light fixture.

Eventually she curled and contorted best she could in the abominable space, licking at the bloody wound as best she could. No matter how she squirmed, the walls were there. It was maddening, like splinters that would not shift, or a needle stabbed through her brain. Sometimes the corridor lights would dim, obscured by a curious biped peering in.

She screamed at them, each and every one, rearing up to show how tight her cell was. Or maybe in the hopes of smashing the glass and tearing their throats out. Karen didn’t really know.

She knew she was in pain. That was the simple truth.

* * * * *

Dimness. Sound at the door.

She woke, writhing, scuttling claws against the wall, knocking and loosed a screech. The silhouette at the window baulked, shrank back. She hissed, scrabbling talons against the glass, against the door. Then, with a great inhalation, she unleashed a roaring expression of vehement rage that quaked through the cell and down the corridor.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

They fled. She snarled. She screamed. She clawed. She ached. She curled. She writhed. She hungered. She raged. She cried.

* * * * *

Dimness. Sound at the door.

The griffin roused, uncoiling, wings banging off the damn cot and torn mattress.

“Ah, there you are,” a low female voice, a silhouette at the door window. The griffin rear up, striking claws off the glass with an icy screech.

“As I said, feral. Like alla’ them beasts.” A cop grumbled, out of sight of the door.

“Fera- she’s claustrophobic you moron!” The woman bellowed, “And bloody- she’s injured? What happened to examining her? Forgot?”

“Didn’t have any wounds, no blood.”

“Oh, so my thirty eyes are blind? Open the hatch.”

Her growling died down as the argument continued, and she peered suspiciously through the window, eyes adjusting. Beyond stood a strong biped woman, with ochre skin mixed with scales. A nest of copper serpents crowned her head, and golden sunglasses covered the gorgon’s eyes. “Hey. We’re going to pass through some Veil, and clothes. Behave, dress, and knock three times, alright?”

The voice was familiar- B9, the gorgon guard from OAR. Why her? Karen glowered, then slowly nodded and dropped onto all fours, only for her body to freeze. She hissed through the paralysis, but could only hold still while a cop slipped a small bundle of clothes and potion through a tiny hatch. Then she was free, bereft of the chance to rip his arm off. No, Karen breathed, and peered at the amber beaker, wings still buffeting off the damn tight walls of the cell. Perhaps smaller was better to escape.

The Veil scorched her throat with a familiar spicy heat. She recognized Diana’s work in the burning sensation that masked the pain as she shrank down, bleeding wing folding into her flesh. Her feathers withered, teeth returned, temples stang, and form diminished smaller than expected. Karen cursed as she felt copper hair tumble down her back, tickling off the brown fur across her awkward legs and tail.

“Shit. Come on. Why an effing faun…” She growled, wincing as the shirt caught on her horns, then bolted upright and slammed her fists off the door. “Hey- I’ve taken your damn disguise, let me out! YOU HEAR ME?!”

The metal budged, and she stumbled out, straight into the towering figure of the gorgon, clad in casual clothes rather than body armour. Skinny jeans led to a dark sleeveless top, showing impressive arms that gently caught Karen.

“Hey- hey, easy. Easy. Everything’s fine.” The gorgon glanced over, where two cops were tense, one hand on a gun already.

“Don’t touch me!” Karen batted her ochre hands away, gingerly balancing on her hooves. “What’s going on? Aren’t you with OAR? Why this bloody form!?”

“Apparently it’s cheaper- and you’re less dangerous like that.” She spoke slowly, “Yeah, technically not on the clock, so call me May. You saved my niece Eda, so here to lend a hand.”

“You broke in here cos of that idiot?”

“Nope, no breaking anything- or anyone- just follow me.” May ushered her cautiously, keeping a distance with one police officer in front, and one awfully irritatingly unacceptably behind her. Karen glanced at him suspiciously, almost tripping on her own hooves as the woman talked. “I volunteered to help your attorney, give a bit of mystic expertise.”

“Attorney? I’ve got a lawyer? Who?”

“Bingo.”

A jolly voice like hot chocolate came from the meeting room ahead. It was a dull cream room, with a metal table bolted to the floor, laden with a dark briefcase, official papers, and a conspicuous bag of KFC. In contrast, the chubby man at the table wore a colourful tie laden with cartoon planets, a mint green shirt, and short platinum blonde hair. Mayor Hugh Carpenter stood, wiping his fingers off a napkin and offered a smug shining smile, “Well well, there’s the troublemaker, eh?”

“Hugh?!” Karen stopped short, eyes wide as her mind raced. Why was this snake here? Had he given her faun Veil as a message? Did he think she’d blabbed about his secret nature as a Naga?

“Who? Come on, even I’m not corny enough to make that joke twice.” He chuckled, blue eyes sweeping over her. “Grab a seat, grab some food, Madonna says you’re a carnivore these days, so I hope it all goes down alright. Is bread okay? May?”

“Different species, don’t know.” The gorgon closed the door and sat, arms crossed.

“What? No- why’re you here? Don’t I get a police lawyer? Or- or… thingy…. Released temporarily?”

“Bail? Afraid not. The Alderbank Police Department has realised the incredibly obvious fact that they don’t have facilities to handle a griffin.” Hugh dug into the bag, producing a box of chicken thighs and drumsticks, “They’ve called for a quicker trial, and since I’m still your parents' attorney, I’m here to defend you.”

She stared at him, uncertainty swirling around inside. Didn’t he want a nice smooth mystic town, not a chaotic griffin flying around who knew his secrets? Why defend her when he could eliminate a threat? Wasn’t that what the faun veil meant- that she was prey here?

“Can’t I have someone else?”

“If you want to go to the Dungeon, sure.” May plucked up a drumstick, and a couple of her snakes bit at it, tearing the flesh off. “But seems like this buffoon is your best hope, so don’t kill the gift horse, hm?”

“He’s not a horse….” Karen felt her cheeks colour, watching the reptilian woman eat, and snatched a couple of chicken bites. “But… wait, a dungeon? Wasn’t those cells bad enough?”

“Dungeon’s a nickname- real one’s the Drummond Penitentiary Complex,” Hugh announced with an exaggerated pompous voice. “Home to nasty dragons, hydras, and all sorts of boogeymen, from what I’ve heard. Was built by mystics to keep their worse sorts a secret, but the government has run it since the Emergence.”

“And they’re so bored that bumping some weakling and eating some horse is enough to get me locked away? When there’s the bad egg and human morons trolling around?!”

“Oh, no, no, of course. You’re still a kid, and a woman. Under any normal circumstances, you’d go to a proper juvenile centre or the like. Unfortunately,” He grimaced, sapphire eyes locking on hers, “They’re convinced you’d be too dangerous for such places. Too volatile for anywhere but the experts at Drummond. Nonsense, of course, you’re a good girl, but apparently you’re a tad scary.”

“Yeah, it’s serious shit, I get it.” She averted her gaze, gnawing at a drumstick. Her teeth were the wrong shape, herbivorous useless squares, and she ripped at it with her fingers. “Can’t I leave here till the trial? Where’s Pa? Does he know?”

“He’s back in Ranelk with your brother- your folks came down. Sylvia went to check on old Veena, while your father came… he didn’t get to see you then?”

“Apparently she was deemed too feral.” May groaned, “Kept screaming and lashing out.”

“Because it’s too fucking tight here and they shot me!” She shot to her feet, chair kicking aside before she stumbled.

“Oh, ohohoho, wonderful!” Hugh clapped his hands with a big smile, as if enjoying a film. “Ahem- uh, not that you were shot. But the more mistakes and misdemeanours made by the Department, the better our odds. Karen, kiddo, think you can run me through the whole thing?”

“What if…” Karen teetered, finding her balance with difficulty on the hooves as her long hair swayed, “What if I did… cause problems?”

“As your lawyer, anything you tell me is confidential, totally hush hush, cross my heart and hope to die.” He winked, “May can leave if you want, she’s… it’s good to have an expert opinion, but she’s not technically employed for this case.”

She looked at him, then at the gorgon, distorted mildly with the goatish eyes of her current form. “Can…uh, I get a phonecall right? Can I call Pa?”

“Oh- of course. I do need to set that up with the cops, so you sit tight, enjoy, shouldn’t take long.” He bounced up, and cheerfully took out the doors, all smiles and lies. Karen circled a moment, then perched on the chair, working her way through the feast. Surely she’d be back in griffin form before this stomach could complain- or else…

“D’you have human veil?”

May cocked her head. “No.”

She raised her brows, “You just get to walk around like that?”

“Yeah. We Gorgons are Class B- there’s no reason for Veil.”

“Some B’s use it.” Karen mused, looking to Hugh’s empty chair and large scale-patterned briefcase. “Uh. Like… uh… Fei. Or I delivered some to your sister’s place. For Diana. I’m her apprentice.”

The woman snorted, “Apprentice in chaos, apparently. Exi told me. She was a little worried about you two headaches joining forces.”

Of course the two buff mystics knew each, Karen guessed they worked out. “I get me, but why’s Diana a headache? She’s epic, she’s like the strongest mage I know.”

“You ain’t met Jerome. But…” May’s serpentine hair glanced around, as if checking the coast was clear. “But Diana always likes being unconventional. She pulled some stunts for the Revealers, used non-human Veil to make some wild scenes. Hard to disbelieve in magic when a hundred people turn into nagas.”

“Could be worse. Could’ve been fauns.” She grumbled, and looked up as the door opened. Hugh reappeared, clutching an old phone with the approximate shape and heft of a brick.

“All approved! Keyed in his mobile, just press call- that button there- and you’re golden.” He overexplained, clunked the monster down, and snatched up some papers. “Let’s leave her to it, hmm assssissstant?”

“I told you already. No snake jokes.” May stole another drumstick, and left with him.

Karen climbed to sit on the table, short legs dangling, as she stared at the phone. It didn’t have a display. But what could go wrong? She’d never heard of electronic magic. The button produced a strange dial-up tone, then it rang once. Twice. Thrice.

“Listen, I’m not buying anythin’, so if you’re here to pitch some nonsense scam, save yourself the time.” Her father’s voice crackled through, weary and sour.

“I…” Her mouth felt dry. The phone was shaking in her hands for some reason. Her wing hurt and she didn’t even have wings.

“Hello? Damn cold calling sons o-”

“Pa, don’t go!” Karen squeaked, tears rolling from her eyes, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean t- I didn’t know what would-”

“Kiddo?” His footsteps thumped, she could picture him pacing urgently, “Karen, you… you’re a faun?”

She blinked, “Yeah- is this video?”

“No, but I know my daughters voice. All of them.” Pa rumbled, moving still. “Argh, damn that Hugh, took the wrong flash. Can no-one read labels? It… I’m… I’m glad you’re talkin’ again. How are you?”

“Fine.”

“Karen. I could hear you. From the cell block.”

“It’s… it fucking sucks, I hate them. I tried to be like you, I didn’t hurt any, but…” Tears clouded her vision, and her hoof stomped off the table with a heavy clang, “I wish I had. I… I should’ve ripped them apart, one by one. Gutted them.”

“Necks. That’s the easier target. I was halfway to punching the throat of the punk at reception.” Rage crept into her father’s voice, “He was pathetic. The language, the look he gave me… absolutely goddamn disgraceful. They claim you assaulted an officer, but are any in the hospital? Or morgue? No, utter bullshit. I know my girl, if you meant to hurt them, they’d be lucky to be alive.”

Karen blinked, “Damn right. I… I wish you had. It’s so close. I… I might as well be a monster to them, right?”

“You know the answer kiddo. You’re better than them. And you’ll walk out of there soon with your head held high, right?”

She swallowed, curling up, knees to forehead, “That’s so much harder, Pa.”

“I know. It’s not fair. But I’m proud you ain’t hurt any of them. Shortcuts make lon’… problems.” His voice was tense. Karen followed the logic, ears dropping low as a pit filled her stomach.

“How’s… I’m sorry… how’s Gramma?”

“She’s stabilizin’. Made it to hospital. Your Mom’s with her. Dr Morris sent an expert too, nice of ‘im. She’ll probably make it, but… she might not recover to how we saw her. It’s hard to say, at that age.” Pa wavered, she heard him pacing. “Karen… I… We’ll talk plenty when you’re out, I don’t want to lecture you where you are. But why’d you fly to Gramma? What happened between you two? We can’t make sense of it. Your mother’s been beside herself.”

“I… I’m sorry. I thought the… the bad egg, the siren was going after her. I was so sure, but… when I got there, talked to her about magic it was just… I think it wanted me to do it. To scare her. And I just played right into it’s hands.”

“Karen. You’re keepin’ somethin’ back.”

The man’s ears were too good. She shuddered. “Y-yeah. I thought… I thought maybe she knew something. About me. That maybe… maybe seeing a little magic could jog some memories. I didn’t want to hurt her!”

“I know.” He stopped. “I’ll be down soon. Be near until the trial, another day to go. Hugh helpin’ you out?”

Karen snorted, “Kinda. He brought KFC. And stuck me as a herbivore. Urgh, my teeth are so gross! Is he really your attorney? Isn’t there someone less…”

“Boyish?” He suggested. “Maybe. There’s some bigshot centaur lawyer, east coast guy, tied up into a lot of the lawmaking process. Hugh’s very different than me, he’s loud and flashy like a star. I trust him- maybe not with magic potions or directions, but with handlin’ people? He’s as good as they come, smarter than he looks.”

“Guess Maddie gets her brains from somewhere.” She grunted in defeat. Would he say that if he knew Hugh was a liar? Or was that deception an asset in this case?

“Yeah. She was worried for you. The boy, too. You’ve got good friends.” He mused, “Do you know which form you’ll be in court? They’ll want formal clothing.”

“Seriously? Can’t I just be myself and stare them down?” Karen laughed bitterly, “Uh… the black one, maybe the teal one… or the dark red. Not the ruffly one, it’s like burgundy with nice pattern texture, okay? And all my Veil, and hairbands, and a good brush, Pa, the one in my nest, not the one Ollie steals.”

“Alright, I’ll pack everythin’ you might need. Don’ worry, I’ve done it before.” He murmured, “Just hold out, don’t do anythin’ reckless, we’ll get through it together.”

“Y-yeah. Is Ollie there?”

“Yup. Wanna talk to him?”

Karen considered it. Questions bubbled in her mind. Would he be scared? Was the phone call safe? Was there a way she could ask for prey?

“Nah. Just tell him to stay outta my stuff.” She settled, “Love you, Pa.”

“Love you more, kiddo. Stay safe.”

Then the call ended. She sobbed in silence for a while, eating what she could. Then she slipped down and peered out the door, passing the ridiculous brick phone to a cop while Hugh and May returned, the snake-man jolly as ever.

“So, how we feeling? Ready to shed some light?” Hugh plucked up a pen and a notepad, eyes sharp.

“Uuuurgh, I just want out.” She groaned, kicked her hoof off the chair three times, “What do you need to know?”

As it transpired, he pursued almost every question. He’d heard a version from Maddie and Logan already, of how she’d fled their movie night, chasing the pigeons, but they’d thankfully kept details vague. She couldn’t talk about Ollie, that was a step too far. He seemed amused by her chase of the Bad Egg, then frustrated, but paid careful attention to her encounter at the gas station. Greater detail went into her exchange at the nursing home, hounding her for time, for route, and for movements, with a wry smile at her escape. May pursed her lips when she got to her hunt, and the encounter with Noah, then onto the summary of her imprisonment.

“And why exactly didn’t you just let Verity read you?” The gorgon groaned, “You could’ve skipped all of this.”

“I don’t want anyone in my head.” Karen snarled. “I’ve got private stuff in here- like, Diana’s magic lessons. I can’t let some biped witch see those.”

“I doubt you’ve learned anything she doesn’t know. But, we’re here now.” May sighed, serpents sliding across her shoulders, “Just consider it, the next time, hm?”

“Here’s hoping there’s not a next time! Golly, you really live fast, don’tcha Karen?” Hugh chuckled, “Carpe diem, seize the day and all that. But the details can… definitely help.”

“What d’you mean?”

“The early parts of the evening. Now, this Bad Egg fellow, not a matter of public knowledge, but the encounter with those drunks, that can lead places. And build up our advantages.” He beamed, bouncing to stand up, “Yes, I think we’ve got a winning approach here. The rushed trial works for us, since we’ve got the most information, and good thing it happened a few weeks before your birthday.”

“Would being seventeen be worse for me?” She scowled.

“No, but it’s easier to cast a younger age as a victim. It’s not entirely smooth sailing, but it’s our best bet,” The liar gave an easy smile, “Trust me.”