6:01 PM, 9th of December

<1 hour and 59 minutes until departure>

The porter that stopped Eddie at the door was a squat little thing, likely still on the right side of twenty by the looks of him. He’d squeezed his barrel chest into a royal-blue uniform to match the train’s exteriors and, at least in Wolf’s eyes, looked much more the part of a ‘Goblin’ than the ones she’d run into at Bullcross. Presently, he divided his squinting gaze between a lengthy piece of paper in his hands and the three human women who all towered over him.

“I’m zo zorry, Madam Hofstra, but you’re zaying theze vere your…?”

“This here is Her Excellency Moo-lung Hwa of Summersend.” Eddie didn’t miss a beat as she gestured toward Linlin. The Pugilist in question, surprisingly enough, looked right at home in her disguise, which consisted of modest make-up, a slightly more colourful version of her usual tunic, and a jet-black shoulder-length wig. “And this here is my good friend Wolf. They’re both here as my guests, as I’ve already explained to the Urlking.”

The Wolfpack had tried to put their heads together to devise a credible cover for Wolf, until they’d all come to the same conclusion: given how incognito she’d already been (and how terrible she was at disguises of any sort), it’d be best to keep things simple. In fact, she still wore her usual outfit of grey beret matched with olive drab trench-coat, though she had at least put in the effort to tie up her hair in a neat bun. Nevertheless, she now wondered if the approach had been too casual, as the porter narrowed his glowing eyes at her in particular.

“Iz just that… I’m not finding their namez on my list. Do you mind, Madamz, if you’re vaiting here while I—”

“Oh, I really don’t think that would be necessary,” Eddie cut in with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Do you?”

And there it was, Eddie’s trademark spell: [COMPEL]. Even with [WILD SENSE] humming at a reduced sensitivity, Wolf ‘heard’ from inside her own skull a sharp metallic keening, not too unlike a steam train braking to a stop. Given that it hadn’t been directed at her, its effects didn’t present as much more than a minor distraction. Not so, however, for the Goblin porter, who looked up at Eddie with blank eyes that had momentarily lost their glow.

“Of courze, Madam, and zorry for the delay. Pleaze, right thiz vay.”

Just like that, they were in. But they weren’t out of the woods yet, as still a good 90 minutes or so remained before they could expect the Urlking to show himself. And the closer they got to him, the more potent his [EMBRITTLE] aura became. Wolf’s [WILD SENSE] felt that too, for now only as a vague sort of chill that wafted in the air like incense.

Before venturing further into the carriage, Eddie pulled them aside for one last surreptitious briefing.

“Alright,” she said, looking between Linlin and Wolf with a seriousness that lacked her usual humour. The job, the whole job, and nothing but the job. “I’m going to cast [REPEL] on both of you now. It should tide you over until the job’s done, but remember, it’s only as effective as the affirmation you hold in your heart. You both have one ready?”

Linlin was the first to nod, and no wonder, for it wasn’t hard to imagine what her affirmation pertained to. Not to be outdone, however, Wolf too gave her assent with alacrity. She might’ve hesitated if she’d been asked the same question this time yesterday… but now? Now, she had no reason to doubt herself.

“Lovely.”

Eddied allowed herself the briefest of an affectionate smile, then placed a hand on each of her companions’ shoulders. Along with the Tactician’s touch, Wolf ‘heard’ the soothing sound of a babbling brook, and within seconds, that ‘chill’ she’d felt earlier all but dissipated.

“Alright, girls,” Eddie announced as soon as she was satisfied that her spell had taken. “It’s time for us to enjoy the party.”

‘Enjoying the party’, for Wolf at least, meant peeling off from the others to wander by her lonesome, all while channelling a good amount of [STILLNESS] to keep herself inconspicuous and uninteresting. She floated through the fancy tables and even fancier guests, making more or less a beeline to the far end of the carriage, where a stage had been erected and cordoned off, no doubt reserved for the Urlking’s appearance. There, she chose a section of the wall that faced the stage at a slight angle, then dug into her [STILLNESS] in earnest.

From her new vantage point, Wolf turned toward the rest of the carriage and… simply watched. She’d be here a while yet, and she might as well keep herself occupied during her wait. Because waiting… waiting was always the hardest part of any hunt.

Wolf watched, and her appreciation for Gabs Dominguez’s needlessly intricate model train grew, for it’d proven to be a near-perfect replica of the real thing. Every inch of the Reception Hall was brightly lit by chandeliers and sconces… except these were newfangled versions of them Wolf was unfamiliar with, emitting a constant buzz that grated against her [WILD SENSE].

Within this rectangular arena that brooked no shadows, bodies in extravagant ball gowns and dapper tailcoats thronged, chattered, and danced ceaselessly, adding only more noise for Wolf to try to ignore. A serene mountain forest at night this certainly wasn’t, and the Assassin was already resigned to this particular wait being longer than most.

It didn’t help matters when she suddenly noticed the large number of Goblin children that scampered about the place with trays and bottles in hand, dressed in the same royal-blue as the erstwhile porter and barely reaching waist-height of most guests. Many of the human guests—especially ones of the female persuasion—treated them as something like mascots, bending down with gracious smiles and leaving them with generous tips. Funnily enough (at least to Wolf), it was the Goblins themselves, especially the taller and better-proportioned among them, who could be found snubbing the child attendants with an almost dismissive scorn. Perhaps they (like Wolf) saw the children for what they were: the face of a spell called [ENDEAR] that required no magic on the Urlking’s part.

Wolf’s cheeks flushed and her pulse quickened, as she recalled just how she herself had fallen victim to that ‘spell’ thirty years ago. For her, it’d been the worst mistake of her career. And for her lover… it’d been the darkest day of her life.

Wolf shook her head and recommitted to [STILLNESS]. That creeping chill had once again burrowed its way into her awareness, and she hastened to remind herself of her newfound ‘affirmation’. She had a real reason to be here—to be waiting and hunting. And she knew exactly who she was fighting for.

As if on cue, the silver-haired figure of Eddie Hofstra sauntered back into view, with ‘Her Excellency Moo-Lung Hwa’ closely in tow. The Tactician had gradually made her way closer to the stage as the night wore on, allocating everyone who was anyone just the right amount of diplomacy without wearing out her welcome. From where Wolf stood, it appeared that Linlin too had played her part perfectly, for nothing but laughter and raised goblets followed in the pair’s wake.

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With her gaze now settled on a source of pleasure rather than irritation, Wolf allowed herself a moment or two of woolgathering. What had Linlin said to her after their sparring session the other day? That all in the Wolfpack had something to go back to after the job was done? Well… Wolf might yet be persuaded that the same could be said for her.

What would she go back to after the Urlking and the nightmare he’d wrought became a thing of the past? Naturally, she’d have to lay low for some time, long enough to let Eddie finish moppin’ up their mess. But after? Would Eddie take her back? Could she and Eddie—together—become something of a permanent arrangement? After all, that Hofstra Manor really was far too large for just one person…

And just as Wolf had started to enjoy this bit of waiting, the hunt itself moved onto its next phase.

The door nearest Wolf slid open, and in marched four muscular and stern-faced Goblins in maroon uniforms. They swiftly rushed onto the carriage without so much as an announcement, pushed aside the cordons, then stood at attention, with each presiding over one corner of the stage. A collective hush fell over the Reception Hall, which then shifted into an excited murmur as guests made their way toward the stage in droves.

But Wolf’s eyes and [SENSES] remained focused on the Goblin ‘soldiers’. These were of slightly different builds still to the academics and diplomats that lived among Franzishmen. They were large in their own rights but bulkier than they were tall. Distinctive bulges in their uniforms hid (Wolf knew) more than their well-trained muscles. At a glance, she saw that this particular group represented each of the four combat specialties of Industrial Magic: Ironworker, Stoker, Glazier, and Boilersmith. Their confident and stoic demeanours spoke to their experience and expertise—as well as a persistent aura of ‘material reinforcement’, courtesy of the Urlking’s [AMALGAM] spell.

Wolf certainly didn’t like her chances—or even Linlin’s, for that matter—if she were forced into a straight brawl against these veteran combatants. If this were thirty years ago, she might have been young and foolish enough to welcome such a challenge, but luckily for her, she now had her aging heart and arthritic knees to keep her grounded. No, it was a good thing that, so far tonight, everything about the job had gone swimmingly.

… Hadn’t it?

The first inkling of unease coincided with the entrance of the Urlking himself. The vaunted ruler of Goblinkind all but glided into the carriage (like a ghost), with powerful strides made only possible by his gangling limbs. He was clad in a darker shade of blue than his train: tailcoat, shirt, and trousers that fit his skeletal frame with uncanny fidelity, such that he could almost be mistaken for an extremely well-dressed scarecrow. And upon his shock of silver mane sat a hoary-white circlet of tarnished metal—a Crown fit for an eldritch king.

All in the carriage, including Wolf, felt the effects of [EMBRITTLE] intensify as soon as the Urlking entered. A veritable rush of cold air, wrapping and infiltrating an aged Assassin’s body until all she wanted was to cling to the first source of warmth she could find. And cling to it she did, delving within herself for a reaffirmation of Eddie’s [REPEL] magic.

At the same time, however, her hand shot to her ear to feel the piece of metal embedded therein. [WHISPER BOND] was still there, emitting a faint hum of what Gabs had called ‘static’. So then, why hadn’t Wolf heard a peep from the light-switch team? When the Urlking had already arrived to offer his platitudes to his subjects both Goblin and human… and recast his spells of domination?

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Eddie and Linlin move against the crowd and closer to the stage. Linlin too had touched her ear, no doubt asking the same questions as Wolf. Before either of them could guess at an answer, however, the Urlking began to speak.

“Welcome, my children. Welcome, one and all.” His voice was almost as thin as his body, and absent the guttural accent common among the Goblins. Despite its papery delicacy, the Urlking’s speech carried and blended with the chill in the air, warming it with its power and generosity. “Another full rotation of the gears that turn our shared world, and we are here again, gathered to reaffirm our friendship and recommit to an ever-brightening future for both our nations. To that end, I thank each and every one of you for your presence tonight to witness and uphold this momentous occasion. I appreciate and congratulate you all, and I encourage you to do the same.”

Polite if somewhat nervous applause. Without the benefit of [REPEL], most in the room were still reeling from the intense aura that emanated from the Crown. Nevertheless, some had built up enough liquid courage to raise their goblets for another round of toasts.

“Yes, very good, very good,” the Urlking continued, and for a moment, his bearded lips parted just wide enough to reveal a glimpse of his tusks. “Yet, I’d be remiss if I didn’t single out one among you in particular… for her outsized contribution to everything from science, education, industry, and the arts, to the welfare of the most vulnerable and marginalized members of our society. With that in mind… Edwina, are you here? I’d be most deeply honoured if you could step up and join me on the stage.”

There came another round of warm applause, even as Wolf tensed with alarm. From the way Eddie hesitated for a second before smiling and obliging the Urlking, it seemed even she hadn’t accounted for this turn of events. But no matter. As long as Salt and Pepper managed to cut the lights, the hunt should still proceed according to plan. And just what was taking them so long?

“Wolfhilde? Lin? This is Gabriela, reporting in.”

Finally. Wolf hid a sigh of relief beneath her [STILLNESS], and had to stop herself from speaking aloud in response. She had to remind herself that her end of [WHISPER BOND] only offered one-way communication.

“It took some doing, but Philomena is at the switchboard, and Alberta is keeping watch. Okay, get ready, we’re cutting power on my count, in ten, nine, eight…”

With her concentration fully trained on this final phase of the hunt, Wolf no longer heard the Urlking’s speech, nor Eddie’s pleasantries in response. She did note, however, that the Tactician had chosen to stand several feet away from her Goblin counterpart, no doubt to leave her Assassin with enough room to manoeuvre. Wolf glanced at Linlin, and saw the Pugilist slowly but surely push her way deeper into the crowd, aligning herself against the most direct path for Wolf to travel.

“Seven, six, five… wait, what’s going on? What—oh, sod this!”

Wolf winced (and [SENSED] Linlin do the same) as her ear played host to an explosion of ‘static’. At nearly the same instant, the chandeliers and sconces that lit the Reception Hall all extinguished simultaneously, throwing the entire carriage into total darkness.

No time to wonder, no time to doubt. Wolf gritted her teeth and sharpened her [WILD SENSE] to its maximum intensity, giving her a clear view of the room as if it’d still been lit.

There was the Urlking, still mid-speech, eyes of molten lava just now starting to widen in surprise. There was Eddie, face frozen in a diplomat’s smile that didn’t reach her eyes. There were the four soldiers, to a one reaching for the weapons that hid within their uniforms, but too slow and too far from her mark to worry an Assassin. Then there was Linlin, arms flung wide to push down the bodies in her immediate vicinity, before she brought down one trunk-like leg for the most devastating kick this side of the Albion Channel.

[QI WAVE]. A mighty gust of wind that knocked all unsuspecting guests back and away from its epicentre. And windward an Assassin flew, knife unsheathed.

[SHADOWBREAK].

Wolf saw and felt everything. The wind whirled as she broke through its midst, dispelling any and all chill or warmth that had hitherto clung to her aging body. The path was clear. No enemy combatants. No stumbling innocents. No distractions.

Only the hunter and her prey.

Suddenly, a sharp metallic keening. Like a steam train braking to a stop. Even though… even though the train hadn’t even departed!

The sound emerged from and filled the inside of Wolf’s skull, until it warped her [SENSES], effaced her hunter’s instincts, and pulled her out of the shadows where she belonged.

When next she regained agency over her own body and mind, she found herself kneeling, face down on the carpeted floor of the stage. The darkness was gone, replaced by the cold glare of electric lights that swayed with the movement of the soldiers that wielded them. The whole carriage was in an uproar: a cacophony of guttural commands and human shouts of dismay and accusation.

Yet, one voice among them—silky, tender, familiar—rose above the hubbub and seared itself into Wolf’s racing heart.

“I’m sorry.”