Stretch heard Red complaining even before he came back into the living room. Closing the door behind him, he saw the newbie Ranger with shoulders thoroughly deflated, staring at the character select screen in what must've started feeling like a routine of defeat. Kitty, the victor, retained her perfect posture next to her victim on the floor, and as always it was impossible to tell whether or not she was at all pleased with herself.

As for Clover, she still lay on the couch, book now folded shut atop her belly, whatever attention she'd had for it gone. Seeing Stretch enter, she gave a lazy wave. "You were gone a while. That bad?"

"Nah. Engine's just old." Stretch sighed. "I'll have to replace it sooner or later. Y'know, again."

"Could always just get a new car."

"I’m too attached at this point." Reaching the couch, he nudged her legs off so he could sit down. "Where'd Baba go?"

"At the computer."

Red leaned back, staring up at Stretch upside down. "She's like some fighting game genius. I don't get it."

Pitying him, Stretch went ahead and said it. "Dude, she's using Kabal. It's not skill, that character's just broken as hell."

Red stared at Kitty, who blatantly pretended to not have heard them. Stretch and Clover shared their own amused look, these kids, and at that moment the latter felt a vibration from her pocket. She took out her phone and narrowed her eyes at the message, thrown into confusion. Wordlessly, she got up off the couch and walked towards the door, already dialing.

Watching her hurry, Stretch half-stood himself. "Hey, what is it?"

"I just need to make a call," Clover said, giving him her best attempt at a smile. She turned the knob and left, closing the door behind her.

- - - — MKII — - - -

Sinking into Ranger mode never stopped surprising Malcolm. Cool, calm, collected. Decisive. Ready to die, if it came to it.

After, when the adrenaline left him and he had enough time to think through what had just happened, he'd always get the shakes, sometimes for an hour or more, thinking about the bruises and cuts, the close calls, the literal centimeters between mere injury and death which he had somehow lucked into. He'd think the terror of the memory would stick, freeze him up at some crucial moment later, grow anxious for the next time when he'd be in the middle of another encounter, grow anxious for being anxious. Then, the next time would come, and Malcolm would slip into the same steely, unshakable focus he thought he'd lost.

That focus entered him as Seigfred dashed up and threw out a fist, arm a stump of muscle. It came out sharp, a perfect jab, but you couldn't be a Ranger without picking up on some hand-to-hand, so Malcolm managed to weave past it and respond with his own punch to the liver. It hit Seigfred dead-on, but felt like hitting… well, steel.

Right, metal body. Malcolm drew back, knuckles smarting. He shook his hand, sucking in air, trying to get his Spirit to heal the pain, and as he did Malcolm saw Seigfred crack the slightest smirk as steel enveloped all of his skin, turning him into a moving effigy.

A bit too convenient for him, Malcolm thought. That plus the whole shapeshifter bait earlier. Disturbing as it seemed, this guy was a bit too prepared for this to just be a simple encounter with some random outlaw. "What did I do to have you coming after me?"

Seigfred's smile fell, and he returned to the same professional stoicism as before. "I don't ask questions, boy. I just do what I'm paid to do."

So he was working for someone. And his accent was a bit foreign, though Malcolm couldn't quite place where from. Kinda Eastern-European? "I'm guessing it'd be a waste to ask where that payment came from."

"You would be correct."

Malcolm felt his phone rumbling in his pocket, so hopefully someone was on the way to help. Well, if worse came to worst Malcolm also figured he could just cut and run.

Actually, why not just do that now? But first, a distraction.

Malcolm ran towards Seigfred before he could change his mind. Bemused, Seigfred raised his hands again, settling into the same efficient stance as before. Then, Malcolm shot a hand forward, sparks shooting from his fingertips right at the man's face. They skirted harmlessly off the skin, but the man still raised a hand to his eyes by reflex, blinking rapidly.

It was enough for Malcolm to safely leap at his enemy and kick out, Spirit rising as he planted a foot on Seigfred's instinctive cross-armed guard. Malcolm used it as a springboard, backflipping high in the air, and quick as a whip he clapped his hands, sucking in a breath before he shot his second fireball of the day, ordered extra large.

Adrenaline pumping at full capacity now, Malcolm landed just as his fireball exploded in a mushroom cloud of smoke that ate up all the space in the alley.

If it hurt Seigfred it probably didn't hurt much, Malcolm knew, so he didn't waste any time. He pivoted around and broke into a run, reaching down to pluck his backpack off the ground as he went. Five seconds, ten seconds, turn the corner, fifteen seconds. Malcolm felt more at ease the deeper he went into the alley, and looked back to see his progress.

There he saw Seigfred turn the same corner he just had and run up right on his heels, stoic face now simmering with mild irritation. Whatever confidence Malcolm had felt withered in his throat, and kept drying up as the metal man dashed straight at him. Too fast, too fast!

Malcolm clapped his hands just as Seigfred tackled him to the ground. He felt his bruises from the other day, mostly healed over but still tender, flare anew as they bounced on concrete.

Seigfred punched him in the face once, twice, then Malcolm felt his Spirit come up and the third punch hurt a bit less. Still, by now his glasses were already broken a second time in as many days and his nose wasn’t doing any better. Broken, it felt like, and the blood he felt streaming on either side of his face proved it.

"You're making this a lot harder than it needs to be," Seigfred said, holding him down.

"I was… thinking the same thing, dude," Malcolm said, voice nasal and eyes pooling. Slowly, his Spirit did its magic as his skin flushed a deep red, steam oozing up from his body in a wave of white translucence.

It took a second, but eventually Seigfred noticed, particularly as his metal hands suddenly scorched against Malcolm's body, themselves taking on a white-hot glow. He screamed sharply, jumping up, flicking his arms back and forth to cool them before they could melt off.

Rolling onto his feet, Malcolm breathed out, tomato skin easing back to its usual peach shade with a ragged gasp. A sheen of sweat coated him, dampening his clothes in patches that would surely make him smell like a gym rat. His Trick, Furnace, really did have the absolute worst side effects, and that was without even getting into how much it threatened to incinerate him from the inside.

"I only heard about the fire," Seigfred said, scowling.

Malcolm shrugged. "Eh, fire, heat, it's all the same, really."

Clicking his tongue, Seigfred flexed his hands. They slowly lost their fiery glow, fading back to a cool steel hue. "I'll just have to beat you down, then."

The guy sure sounded all matter-of-fact about it, but that was probably fair; Seigfred was stronger and faster and mostly impervious to anything Malcolm could dish out. The heating surprise wouldn't work twice, and even if it could, it wasn't like Malcolm could keep doing it over and over with how much it took out of him. All in all, chances were he was on the verge of getting stomped.

Then, just as he thought that, a voice rang out behind him. "Malcolm, what in the hell are you doing?"

Not his first or even second choice, but as soon as Malcolm turned around and saw Zelda there in the alley, phone in one hand and purse in the other, he still let himself breathe a sigh of total relief. Even if she did look pissed. "Oh thank god you're here."

Zelda walked over to him, nestling her purse in her elbow. "Yeah, thank god I am, because if I wasn't you'd probably blow a hole in someone's house, you moron. Look." She waved over at the sky, where Malcolm could see the results of his fireball from earlier drifting up in the air, thick smoke thinning with the wind. "Just look at what you're doing. A few trees are one thing, but people live around here. You want us getting sued?”

Seigfred saw her coming in her skirt and heels, uncertain as to whether she was backup or some kind of unfortunate bystander stumbling in. "You'd best get out of here girl, or—"

Not even glancing his way, Zelda held up a finger. "Shut up, you." And Seigfred did shut up, more from surprise than anything else. Zelda then turned back to Malcolm, putting her phone away. "Aren't you supposed to be in school? Your call interrupted my whole day, you little brat."

Malcolm let her words pass by. Honestly, he'd long gotten used to this. And anyway, she'd come to help regardless, so she had to care at least a little. "I kinda got ambushed."

"Ugh. You're lucky I'm feeling responsible."

"Thanks for coming."

"Oh, you better thank me."

Seigfred finally had enough. He stepped forward, hands balling into fists. "I don't know who you are, girl, but if you stand in my way, I'll just have to move you out of it."

Zelda glanced over at the man, and with a roll of her eyes she flicked a hand in his direction. In seconds a great wave of ice grew out of the ground, spreading from her to encompass the whole alley like a glacier, wrapping around Seigfred and pulling him off the ground as he gasped in complete bewilderment. In moments he found himself trapped some five feet off the ground, body encased from the neck down in a miniature glacier, surrounded on all sides by ice growing up from the concrete floor and the brick walls.

Breathing sharply, Seigfred tried to move, flexing his whole body, metal muscles rippling, but there wasn't an inch of leverage, and his efforts only produced a cloud of cold breath with every huff of struggle. Malcolm too felt a wall of cold air slam into him, so sudden and powerful was her Trick, though thankfully he was well away from its path. He saw the mass of ice that consumed the whole alley, looked at Zelda with a raised brow, silently asking, didn't you just scold me over collateral damage?

Zelda crossed her arms. "What? It'll melt."

Shaking his head, Malcolm walked over to Seigfred, climbing up the small hill of ice, almost slipping off. He squatted right by the man's head, the two stared at each other, and Malcolm tried really hard not to look smug about how things had turned out. It helped that his broken nose and cracked glasses didn't exactly make him look like much of a winner. "Now might be a good time to start talking. Who sent you?"

Seigfred, skin turning back to normal, glared up to spit in his face. "Save your questions."

Well, it had been worth a try. Malcolm wiped the saliva off, deadpan, now feeling like he might as well have looked a little bit smug. "You're already caught, dude. No use staying quiet now."

"I'm a professional, boy." Seigfred turned away, as much as his neck allowed, and closed his eyes. "I can't finish the job, but I can at least keep my dignity."

Malcolm figured he could respect that, as much as he could respect a hitman. Standing, he pulled out his phone and dialed the RC.

Meanwhile, Zelda stood aside, foot tapping impatiently. "Hurry up, this place reeks." As Malcolm neared, she flared her nose, then pinched it closed. "And so do you."

The call went through, and Malcolm heard a robotic voice ask for purpose and location. "Cleanup," he said, giving the address, and after a brief confirmation he hung up.

"They're coming," he told Zelda, and at once she began walking away. Hurrying to match her stride, Malcolm followed her out the alley and back into the sunlight, taking only a second to glance back at Seigfred, who watched them go with solemn acceptance. Chances were the man wouldn't ever see the light of day again, but he did seem as dignified as one could expect.

Zelda reached into her purse for a pair of white sunglasses. She put them on, rubbed at the wrinkles between her eyes, and finally looked down at him. After a pause, she rummaged through her purse again and pulled out a small packet of napkins, handing it over. "So… What was all that about?"

"I don't know," Malcolm said. He took the napkins, opened the plastic, and gingerly set the whole packet on his nose, dabbing at the blood. "But I'm gonna find out."

- - - — MKII — - - -

They got back to the station half an hour later, and after a quick explanation, everyone piled into the computer room. Baba sat in front of the screen, tapping away with one hand and holding the wired mouse with the other. Malcolm hovered intently over her shoulder, and Zelda sat on the desk, texting.

Behind them, Kitty and Clover shared the one couch in the small room. Stretch propped himself against the wall across from them, and Red sat cross-legged on the floor at the room's center, more restless than anyone else.

"Man, I wanna get ambushed," the boy had said upon hearing Malcolm's story, and when everyone had stared at him he'd just stared shamelessly back. "What? It's fun if you win, isn't it?"

Clover sat with tense shoulders, a wrinkle of worry behind the mask of normalcy she'd put on after talking to whoever she’d called. Stretch glanced at her from the corner of his eye, having received the expected "it's nothing" as soon as he'd asked what was wrong. Kitty knew something was wrong too, but she figured it wasn't any of her business and so didn't ask, instead allowing Clover to braid her inky-black hair in silent therapy.

"Found him," Baba suddenly said, and they all leaned in to get a good look at the screen. On it they saw a picture of a bald man without eyebrows and an expression of supreme severity, Malcolm's description to a tee. " 'Bulletproof' Seigfred von Galvain, outlawed a couple years back and working as a killer for hire ever since. RC's had him on its radar a long time now."

Stretch read along until he got to the bounty, smiled, and walked over to throw an arm around a silent Malcolm. "Hey, chin up, man! Looks like you netted yourself a sweet bounty."

"Technically, I'm the one who beat him," Zelda said, not looking up from her phone. "But I'll let you keep the cash. Maybe you can use it to finally decorate that prison cell you call a room."

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

Ignoring her, Malcolm read the profile through his third and final set of backup glasses. His nose still smarted, but it had been long enough that his Spirit had knitted it mostly back to normal. "Is there a record of his… activities?"

Baba hummed, typing, and a list came up, one of dates and a brief summary along with each. "He hasn't been caught before, so this is all just hearsay and witness sightings."

Malcolm looked through it, but none of it seemed useful. "I guess it's too much to ask for him to have some journal online listing everyone who calls him up for murder."

Settling back on her chair, Baba closed her eyes in meditation. "All we'd need is a transaction. This kind of thing usually gives half the pay up-front and half after the job gets done. I could track the source of cash if I knew the account he used for it."

They settled into thoughtful silence. All except Red, who was by then starting to get bored. This hacker stuff looked cool in a montage, but in real life it turned out to just be a bunch of sitting around. "Why do we even need to find this guy? I mean, he already lost."

"It wasn't a personal thing for him," Malcolm said. "He was hired by someone, and that person could just keep sending more. For all we know, they're targeting the whole Outpost and I'm just first in line."

"Then we'll just beat up whoever else they send over."

"Personally, I'd rather not have to keep dealing with assassins trying to kill me."

Eventually, Zelda looked up and saw them all out of ideas. "Um, duh," she said, turning to Malcolm. "Didn't you say this guy was working with some shapeshifting lady? Try finding out about her."

"Right, she was his bai. White, redhead shapeshifter. Er, maybe five eight, five nine?"

Kitty perked up at the description, and by the time Baba pulled up the page, she'd stood and come up alongside Malcolm, staring intently at the screen. It was less a profile and more vague descriptions under a blurry picture, taken with its subject on the move. Still, Kitty’s dark eyes narrowed in recognition.

"I know her," she said, and for the first time Red saw her blank expression crack, wrinkling at the brow. "I thought..."

They turned to her, and Kitty weathered their looks, settling her uncertainty back behind a monotone control. "Try Scarlet Valentine. She's probably even using a normal bank account."

"You sure?" Malcolm asked. "Scarlet Valentine sounds… well, fake, honestly."

"It is fake, but it's the name she would be using," Kitty said. When everyone kept looking at her, she crossed her arms. "We used to know each other. It's not important right now, so just stay focused."

Baba worked through the discussion and managed to pull up this new account. "There," she said, looking at the transaction history. The most recent one already seemed suspiciously large, and had come through just the day before. "Looks like you were worth 2,000 to hook, Malcolm."

Finally, they were getting somewhere. Malcolm nodded to Kitty, who took the opportunity and returned to the background, frowning mildly. Would have to talk to her about it later, Malcolm thought, but now didn’t seem like the time, and no one was better at keeping quiet than Kitty when she put her mind to it.

"Try following it back to the source," he said, turning to Baba.

"Already on it," the woman said. A second account popped up. It was hard to tell, but it had to be Seigfred's. "Here. Most recent deposit is... 5,000, two days ago."

"So 5,000 now, and another 5,000 after," Stretch said. "Man, just 10k total for your life? That's rough, buddy."

"I wouldn't really appreciate any number for my life, to be honest," Malcolm said drily. "Where'd it come from, Baba?"

A bit more clicking, and Baba saw the source. She leaned back on her chair, thin lips grimacing, and really wished there was a window so she could smoke something. "That's not good." She gave it a few seconds to sink in, then looked around at everyone else’s expectant faces. "It came from someone called 'Bishop,' obviously another pseudonym, but the problem is the server this Bishop sent it from. Just some three hundred miles north of here, out in the middle of nowhere, except that's…"

"It's where the ELD is," Clover finished, the first time she'd spoken during their brief investigation. She sat forward and looked intently at her clasped hands, looking less surprised than disturbed, long curly hair falling to almost hide her face.

"That's the, uh, tree-hugging club you're in, right?" Red asked, and when she nodded he straightened proudly at having somehow kept up enough to know that.

"So someone in the ELD sent a hitman after Mal," Stretch said, scratching his goatee. "I don't get it. Why him?"

"The money got sent two days ago," Malcolm said. "That's just after the whole golem thing. Would've been when Clover sent the log. Maybe it's got to do with that."

"So, what," Red said, "some crazy hippie tried to kill you over a rock?"

Malcolm nodded once, struggling to believe it. "I can't think of any other reason. We should tell the ELD, see if they can catch this Bishop guy."

"Could be a girl," Zelda muttered.

"Whoever." Malcolm turned to Clover. "Could you let your mom know? She can help get things started."

Clover didn't look up. Instead she closed her eyes, gripped tighter on her clasped hands, took a deep breath. "I just talked to her today. She texted me earlier today. About Jubilee, and how apparently she doesn't want me to go anymore."

"So she’s the one you called earlier," Stretch guessed, and Clover nodded.

"I asked if there was anything wrong, and she tried to calm me down, but she sounded weird. Nervous. Then she said things were getting dangerous." Clover finally looked up at them, serious. "I think she let that slip, because then she told me to forget it. She said she'd tell me what was going on after."

"... After what?"

Clover shrugged, helpless. "After something. Who knows? But that and now this Bishop thing… I'm getting a bad feeling that maybe…"

She didn't have to finish her thought, because they were all thinking it. If Bishop was connected to whatever was going on at the World Tree, this whole situation might be bigger than one assassination attempt. Chances were this went deeper than just a single hired Rogue.

Migraine. Malcolm could feel it coming in, so he rubbed at his temples. Things were getting a little too complicated. "Alright… Then let's tell the Bureau of Enforcement," he said, looking at Baba. "I mean, this is supposed to be their whole thing."

"They're the first people I called," Baba said, shaking her head. "No dice. I asked around, and it sounds like they're clogged up. Wouldn't have done all this digging myself if they had the time for it."

Red saw Malcolm frown at the floor, thinking. Baba and Stretch did much the same, the latter scratching at his goatee, while both Kitty and Clover seemed to be looking at something far away, mulling on their own problems. The only one not bothered by any of this was Zelda, who kept tapping away at her phone with manicured fingers.

"Okay," Red said, "bureaucracy sucks, so what do we do?"

Baba sighed. "The only way to know who this Bishop is would be to log into the ELD computer they used directly and see what kind of access they have to their server."

"So basically, I have to go do it," Clover said, resigned. "I can go for Jubilee, even if my mom won't like it. There's only one computer and I know where they keep it, so maybe I can sneak a look."

"Yeah right," Zelda said, "one of the party guests starts snooping around the place, hacking into their stuff. Not suspicious at all."

"It's not a party..."

"She does have a point," Stretch said. "If you go, everyone'll expect you to be doing official stuff. It'll look weird if you just disappear, worse if they find you where you're not supposed to be. Who knows what this Bishop'll do if he feels like he's about to get found out?"

Then, Malcolm came up with an idea. "So instead, we sneak someone in. While everyone's busy with Jubilee, they'll go up to the computer and find out who Bishop is. Even if they get caught, they'll hopefully have enough evidence by then that it won't matter." He turned to Kitty. "What do you think? That's your kind of thing."

The girl managed to hear him over the sound of her own thoughts. She blinked, processed what he'd asked, then gave a sharp shake of her head. "Sorry, but now that I know Scarlet's in the city I need to find her as soon as I can. It's... personal."

"... Stretch?"

The guy considered it, but eventually had to shake his head also. "Sorry man, I'm not really one for the computer stuff. I'd sneak my way over and then not know what to do."

Malcolm hesitated, looking at Zelda.

"Don't even ask," she said, not bothering to look back at him. "I already saved your ass. How about you do something yourself, for once?"

Malcolm scratched his head, and before he could get too tussled up about it Clover took some pity.

"Hey, it's okay," she said. "We'll find a way to make it work with just us two. Plus, the worst that can happen is a slap on the wrist."

Her words settled him some, though it was still hard for Malcolm to nod his approval.

"So it's decided," Baba said. "Malcolm will sneak in with Clover. Find the computer, discover Bishop's real identity, and we'll have someone to fork over to the RC Enforcers."

They all nodded, and at this Zelda stood, heading for the door. "That took way too long," she said, and without another word walked right out of the room.

Slowly, the rest stretched tensed limbs or stood and began following her.

"Hey wait," Red said, still sitting and suddenly aware that the plan had been formed without his input. "I wanna go too."

They turned, Malcolm frowning down at him. "Uh, absolutely not. Are you serious?"

"Yeah? Clover said this party was members only right?" Red waited for her hesitant nod. "Well, if you're breaking the rules anyway, then I might as well go too. I mean, c'mon, why not?"

"It's risky enough just to have me going."

"What if there's another fight?"

"If there's a fight then we already lost," Malcolm said, exasperated. "This isn't supposed to be a fighting thing. And I can take care of myself either way."

"Got beat up twice in three days."

Malcolm’s cheeks pinked. "Not a necessary comment!"

Clover interceded between them, a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "I'm gonna pack. We'll leave early tomorrow at six. I'd say the bus ride is long enough to sleep through, but..."

"But I should probably stay awake for it seeing as I'm not supposed to be there," Malcolm finished, calming down. "Good night's sleep it is."

She gave him a pained smile and a squeeze and walked out of the room. Malcolm took a moment to point scissors at his eyes and then at Red's, I'm watching you, before following her through the door. Kitty and Baba had long gone, the former looking decidedly distracted.

Only Stretch remained, leaning against the wall as he had been throughout the impromptu meeting. He looked at Red, noted the glum expression, and shrugged his shoulders.

"Hey, chin up. Some things aren't meant to be," said, pushing off the wall and taking his own leave. "Maybe you'll see it some other time."

Sitting in the room alone, Red felt as left out as he did fidgety. This Ranger thing was supposed to be exciting, but all he'd done all day was sit around and get his ass kicked in a videogame. Four-Eyes was supposed to be the boring one, yet he got ambushed and was now on some kind of secret spy mission. Talk about unfair. It had only been hours since Red got his license, but he could already feel the stifling pull of fading inertia.

Red stood up. These people were cool and all, but they weren't in charge of him. And anyway, this whole situation was basically inviting him to get involved. Fantastical sights, the promise of danger, what more did he need? You either took what you wanted or left it on the table.

Early tomorrow at six it was.

- - - — MKII — - - -

Red rubbed his eyes, feeling heavy all over. Really should've thought this through. Sun was barely even out.

He stood on the Outpost's roof, having left Stretch's place some fifteen minutes before. The clock had said 5:30 when he left, so he was pretty sure he wasn't late. Just a matter of waiting around until Malcolm walked out, then a matter of following him to wherever this bus of theirs was, then a matter of getting in without getting caught somehow. Still, he wasn't as tired as he'd expected to be. There was some manic thrill in doing all this sneaking around that sent a bit of a current up his spine.

Something pattered behind him, and Red spun around, eyes sharp.

It was a flat roof with not much on it save some antennas and what he assumed to be some sort of generator. Looking around, he didn't see anything else. Maybe the sound had come from further away?

Slowly, Red turned back, and as he did he felt something sharp nip at his neck, drawing the barest bit of blood. A knife materialized from the air, tip pointed right at him. It was a small but gnarly thing, short and thin and splotched all over with what looked like the traces of wiped-away blood. Gulping, he stood still even as someone whispered behind him.

"Boo."

In an instant Red reached up and grabbed the knife by the blade, pulling it away from him. The edge bit into his palm, but it was better than getting stabbed in the throat. Again he turned and again saw no one. Holding the knife alone now, his eyes roaming the empty roof.

"Down here."

There she was, sitting on the edge of the roof just next to him, feet hanging down like on a swing. Red looked down at Kitty, somewhat annoyed, particularly when she just held her hand out for the knife without even glancing his way, like she hadn't just pointed it at his neck a second before. He gave it to her, and she twirled it with her thin fingers before sticking it in a small holster hidden against the small of her back, armed and ready even in her loose pink pajamas.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, flustered.

"I live here," she said matter of factly, as if she were indoors like a normal person. "What are you doing here?"

Red stared down at her, considering his words. Then, he shrugged and said it. "I'm gonna sneak off with Four-Eyes and Granola Girl to their kickass giant treehouse party."

She blinked up at him, black eyes steady. "You're surprisingly direct."

"I figure you can't stop me anyway, so who cares?"

Humming, Kitty drew her knees up, curling comfortably into them with crossed arms. "And how exactly were you planning on 'sneaking off' with them?" she asked.

Red brought a hand up to his chin, opened his mouth, thought for a second, then closed it. For some time, he stood there, and she sat there, both in total silence.

Kitty lay her head on her arms. "You haven't thought about it at all, have you?"

She didn't get an answer. Red just turned away, rubbing his chin, trying to act like he was in deep contemplation.

Kitty stared off at the city skyline. They weren't in a neighborhood with too many of the really tall buildings, so the view was mostly one of low rooftops cast in the slowly brightening shade of dawn. "Mal wouldn't admit it, but he gets in over his head," she eventually said.

Red scoffed. "I've picked up on that much, Darkness.”

She nodded, but her face didn’t so much as twitch. Mechanically she held up her hand, offering Red a ring made of pure transparent glass, so clear it seemed like glittering water on her palm. "Here."

Curious, Red took it and looked it over, turning it over in his fingers. "Uh, thanks?"

"It's the Ring of Gyges. A Talisman. When you put it on, it makes you invisible."

"Ah, sort of a Lord of the Rings thing." Red paused, then sent her a dirty look. "Is this how you keep sneaking up on me?"

"No. You're just never paying any attention."

Red unceremoniously slipped it on and looked at his hands, seeing them as solidly as ever. "This thing might be broken."

Kitty looked at him, though Red noted her eyes didn't quite pin his. She seemed to stare off just slightly away, looking somewhere behind him, as if looking at his shadow. "Believe me or don't. Just make sure Mal gets it before he gets to the World Tree."

"Why not just give it to him yourself?"

"I thought about it all night. No one knows I have a Talisman like this, though. Well, no one except Jay." Kitty sighed. "I knew Mal needed it, but if I gave it to him it would lead to questions. I don't… I don't like talking about my past." Now she narrowed her eyes up at his direction. "I figure you won't ask me about it. You won't right?"

Red shook his head in a hurry, though she didn’t seem to notice. After a second or two, she turned away again, eyes heavy on the distance.

She was shaken up. Red was surprised to realize it, but there it was. Hard to tell, with how closed up she seemed to be most of the time, but Red could tell by the slight tilt of her posture, the tension in her voice. He hadn't forgotten how off she seemed the day before, either. Something about that red haired woman, no doubt.

"You'll miss your ride," Kitty said.

Startled, Red leaned over the roof's edge and saw that she was right. Malcolm jogged down the porch steps onto the sidewalk in dark jeans and a sweater—for once in something that wasn't his school uniform—looking far too awake.

"Better catch up," Kitty said. "Give him the ring. Whatever you do after that isn't really my business."

"Just 'good luck' would be nice," Red grumbled.

She shrugged, but didn’t actually say it. Kinda rude. Well, in that case he wouldn't say bye either.

Red took a deep breath and jumped off the roof, falling three floors and landing on the street with a small huff. Ahead of him he saw Malcolm glance over at the sound, eyes passing over the area as Red froze. The other boy noticed nothing, though, finding only an empty street, and soon continued on his way. At that, Red grinned, looking down at the ring on his hand. A bit derivative, but when it worked, it worked.

Red kept his grin as he followed Malcolm from a safe and unheard distance, not bothering to tiptoe. He'd hand the ring over, sure, and by then he'd already be along for the ride. Better to get forgiveness than permission.