Magic was used to running.

Usually when he ran, he ran from danger, not to it. He ran from things to avoid trouble. He ran from people to stay clear of prying eyes. He ran away from home to be free of it. His whole life consisted of hiding until the demons went away, until they left him alone and allowed him—anxious and paranoid—to peep his head out from a corner like a wary piece of prey.

It was a new sensation entirely to be running in the face of something you should be steering clear of. Something dangerous and threatening and where one misstep could mean drastic consequences for everyone else.

Magic wasn’t a fan. It made his skin prickle just thinking about what could happen to him or his sister should something in their plan fail. What the Cardinals would do if they realized they had a goddess and her human mouthpiece in the same space.

With every step he took, it echoed in his chest, loud and clear like a drumbeat’s twin. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. It didn’t take much for him to realize that he was out of his depth; even back in Elnoire, he’d delegated the stealing duties because he was too nervous to reach a hand into an unsuspecting pocket. Thievery wasn’t his expertise. He lived his life like a specter, whispering through the interwoven branches of Chrome to observe from afar.

He made his way through a hallway silently, kicking up the pace in his steps through empty hallways. They were eerily empty and Magic cursed, mainly at himself for even thinking to agree.

Stars, he hated this. He wasn’t a thief. He couldn’t charm someone into handing something over for him to borrow.

But Mira was. Heavens, if there was going to be any of them that thrived in high stress, high adrenaline inducing situations, it would be his energy craving sister. Magic understood why. She didn’t have as much pent up fear as he did, did it live in it like he did. Mira knew how to navigate scenarios that threatened her life with a grace and chaos he wished he had.

Focus, he reminded himself. The more you think, the more you spiral. And you are not going to be the one to fuck this up.

Still …

His nerves were on high alert. Every clack of his boots on the tile made Magic’s heart spike and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the rising panic he could feel coming on in his chest or the general discomfort of being jostled around like she were nothing but a tool, but he felt Soma tossing and turning from the inside of the bag. Immediately his eyes went up in search of cameras. He prayed—desperately—that if there were cameras, it would only pick up on the bag moving in time with his stride.

There was a slight bit of comfort, he knew, in carrying a god-like creature in his bag and having it at his side. He couldn’t communicate with Soma, but he could at least see her.

So could any other Scepters or half-sights stationed in the Cardinal’s ranks—which, Magic figured, was probably half the point of taking them in. Turn them against the ones they worshiped and shared a connection with.

Soma could protect him should they be found out; she was a being of immense power, even in her weakened form. He’d seen her drop bodies to the ground in seconds during the ambush at the Eastern District. All he had for protection was the twin blades Alaric had slipped into his inside coat pocket before they left for the building, and that was a flimsy looking thing. Less sturdy than his knife.

Chatter from behind startled Magic back into the present. He froze in the hallway, taking a quick look over his shoulder in the direction of clicking boots, then headed inside of the nearest door he could find: a door with a sign on it that read “Supply Room.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Magic shoved his back to it, taking a few breaths to calm his heart down. The bag Soma was in slid gracefully off his shoulder and onto the ground. It thudded softly and Soma poked an antler through a gap in the zipper, shoving the duffel open and clambering out of the confined space. She shook out her fur, then paused, taking in the sight.

Magic couldn’t blame her for being disappointed. It showed in the twitch of her ears that she wasn’t impressed, either. It was a dingy little space—not nearly small enough to feel claustrophobic but certainly not a well developed room, either. It was packed with shelves and on those shelves were a mixture of boxes, stacks of paper, metal pieces of machinery that Magic had never seen before let alone knew existed. In the back of the room was a lone desk, papers scattered across its surface as if the person seated at it left in a rush. Or was dragged out against their will. He couldn’t be too sure with a group like the Cardinals.

The jackalope chittered, something soft and pensive as she made circles around the small room, antlers grazing the metal of the beams.

“Soma, don’t do that,” Magic whispered, allowing himself to sink to the floor. He needed stable ground and he knew he was not going to find that standing. “If you make noise, they’ll know someone is in here. The last thing we need is the Cardinals finding us before we’ve even begun. I don’t even think Jovie and Mira made it to the fourth floor yet.”

Soma tipped her chin upward, blue tendrils poking out from her antlers. They slid forward like levitating snakes, undulating in the air as if she were feeling for Jovie’s presence only for the thin vines to retreat. She stayed that way for a while and Magic, unsure whether to ask if she was okay or leave her be, did nothing.

He liked to believe that because he had the most knowledge in the myths aside from Jovie that his pairing with Soma was an obvious choice. Deep down, he knew it had little to do with that and everything to do with the fact that separating Jovie from the Spectacle made the most sense. The Cardinals were looking for the two of them together. What sense would it make to give them exactly what they wanted?

Even still, not even his storybook and mythological knowledge could have prepared him for dealing with Soma firsthand. It was like watching an alien piece together how certain things worked.

Then, suddenly, Soma hopped up to all fours and pranced over in his direction, squeaking and chirping and making so much noise that Magic reached over and pressed his hand against her mouth. He snagged her antlers with one hand and held her snout closed with the other. Furious, the rabbit bucked her hind legs.

“Stop it with the noise,” Magic said again, keeping his voice low. “I know you have things you need to tell me, but I can’t understand you. I’m not Jovie. I’m not one of your children. Stop talking before you get us found out and killed.”

He let the Spectacle go after that and she turned to back away, but not before slamming her antlers into his leg. Magic shooed her away, ignoring the grumblings she made. She made the same gestures, softer this time and no matter how he tried to interpret the noises and the movements, he couldn’t decipher them in a way that made sense.

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Soma was throwing a fit, pointing at the walls with her antlers, making noises almost under her breath and pawing at the corner where the wall met the floor. He didn’t think she wanted to get out. She would have made that much clear by getting into the bag—at least, he assumed that would be the case. So when the creature didn’t stop staring at the hallway beyond the wall, Magic found it odd.

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

The Spectacle shot a glance in his direction that looked like the equivalent of Just listen and Magic kept his mouth shut, one ear pressed against the wall.

“I’m telling you,” said a faint voice with barely contained excitement, “once I can land a bull’s eye on the target, Leon’s going to take me out in the field with him for recon. I’m so tired of sitting here doing nothing but prep work.” It was a high pitched one, squeaky in the way that was so undeniably childish and Magic felt himself wincing. This poor kid, whoever they were, had absolutely no idea what they’d been roped into.

“Look, squirt,” said another, rough and raspy like the scratch of coarse stone rubbing against each other, “if you want Leon to take you on a field mission, you’re going to need to do more than be a good shot. You’re going to have to know when and when not to shoot.”

They were getting louder and Magic dropped to the floor to spot the shadows of boots from the gap between the door and the tile. The shoes were nearly side by side. Not quite a mentor and apprentice, but one of them was clearly inexperienced and new. Fresh blood that knew nothing of his role.

“I know when and when not to shoot, Jes!” cried the younger boy. “You’ll see. I’ll join you, Faith, and the others with Leon once I pass my assessment in two weeks.”

Magic could just hear the sarcasm dripping from the older man’s tongue as the clicking of the boots faded. “In your dreams, kid. In your dreams.”

He glanced over at Soma, who was looking at him with what he thought was conviction in her wide, void-like eyes. Her large ears flicked once and he could almost hear the order in them.

Play dumb.

Play dumb and swindle your way into their good graces enough so that they don’t see the enemy in front of them. It wasn’t a bad plan—Magic was at least willing to admit that. Plus, he wouldn’t have to do too much pretending. His knowledge of the Cardinals was limited, even more so when it came to what went on inside of their base. He was familiar with their vendetta. Their methods … Now that was entirely different.

“Not bad,” he murmured, striding in the direction of the metal shelves as Soma bowed, extending a hoof forward and dipping her head to the ground. He ignored her completely. “Grab some of these things and put them in the bag, Soma. It’ll help us sell the part.”

The Spectacle obliged, taking the objects Magic snatched off the shelf and placing them into the bag with the tendrils poking out of her antlers. He fought a cold chill every time they grazed his skin. It was a relief to have a celestial creature on his side, but Stars if he wasn’t afraid of her power.

They packed the bag with tin cans of materials Magic didn’t recognize, weights and scales, bags of powders that weighed like a sack of bricks, and notepads with pens attached by a string. Soma hopped in, nestling herself in between the materials as though she were a dog making a nest. One she was laying down, antlers to the side, Magic knelt beside the bag and withheld a chuckle.

He’d never seen a creature look so … uncomfortable.

Soma’s neck was craned up, forcing her antlers to lay perpendicular to the ground, while her hooves and paws were tucked into her stomach. One of her hind legs twitched, unable to find a comfortable spot and he adjusted some of the materials to try and give the jackalope more room. The Spectacle huffed, her massive ears bent against the wall of the duffel, and her three tails thumped slowly against the lining of the bag.

Magic couldn’t stop the grin. “Comfortable?”

Soma growled and chittered in response and for once Magic was grateful he had no understanding of the creature’s language.

“You’ll have to deal with it for now,” he went on, his fingers pinching the zipper. “Until we can find a good place to let you roam, deal with what you can. Try not to readjust that much. Understood?”

The jackalope let out a small whine that sounded almost like a Yes and with that, Magic zipped the bag closed, hoisted over his shoulder and walked out the door of the supply closet.

He hadn’t realized how heavy the materials were; he stumbled over himself on the way out, bag spinning around to twist the straps. With a hand on the wall, he tried to force it to unravel only to nearly clock an incoming stranger in the stomach.

The Cardinal gasped and bent away from the whirling object—the movement masked the small shuffling of the rabbit inside—and sidestepped into the middle of the hallway. “Oh, Flames!” she cursed before reaching out to stabilize the bag. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” Magic asked, hugging the duffel against his side with both hands to shield it. “Are you?”

“I’m dandy. I should’ve paid more attention.” The stranger took a cautious step back and it was then Magic realized that he was speaking with a girl who didn’t look too much older than him. She had pale skin—not as pale as the Subsidians, but olive skin like him and orange hair with freckles all over her face and arms. A brown birthmark in the shape of a thumbprint dotted the right side of her chin. There was a child-like energy in her eyes, one brown, the other a startling white that made Magic pause. His blood froze over and he wasn’t sure if Soma could sense his fear or the presence of a half-sight in the vicinity, but he could have sworn that the Spectacle had stopped moving. “I was too busy looking at my pager for assignments”—she held out the object which reminded Magic of a flatter version of a walkie—“and wasn’t careful enough. You look like you have your hands full, though.”

“Not quite,” Magic replied, despite the fact that the bag might as well have been packed with cinder blocks. “I just needed to drop off some materials.” He gave a small shrug of his shoulders. “Grunt work,” he added.

The girl rolled her eyes, pocketing the pager. “Ugh, tell me about it. They make us do all the mundane shit around here without even so much as a thank you.” She looked him up and down, as if finally realizing who she was holding a conversation with. “Are you new here?” she asked. “You don’t have a badge.”

He looked at his front. “No,” he said, matter of factly. “I don’t. New.”

Already he regretted speaking. The girl had a look in her eyes that bordered on awe or admiration and he silently prayed—to the rabbit in the bag or the bird in the sky—that the Cardinal would spare him. “A transfer? That’s so cool! Where did you transfer from?”

“Droidell. A recent change.”

“That’s so cool! My uncle lives there and I only visited him a handful of times before I ended up here. Oh, I’m from Garaleign!”

Really, he thought, taking note of her appearance with a raised brow. Couldn’t tell. “Ah. I see. Uh, would you mind? Helping me, I mean, to drop off these supplies? I don’t have a badge. And most of these doors have scanners.”

“Oh, of course! It’s been a while since I’ve seen another newbie,” the girl said. She waved for him to follow, took a few steps forward, and paused. Her orange hair caught the light and turned to flames as she spun to face him again. “I’m sorry, I never asked. What’s your name?”

Magic pursed his lips. “Avery,” he said, the name weird and clumsy on his tongue. Few people ever referred to him by it—the main two being his mother and Benji—and he’d always found a distinct amount of comfort in his nickname. It felt wrong, but everything about this was wrong. His uniform. Locations. Objective. Maybe using a different alias wasn’t the worst thing he could’ve done.

The girl grinned, a wide smile from ear to ear.

Stars, what mistake had he made?

“Cool!” she said. “My name is Elsie, but El will work just fine.” Elsie resumed her pace, urgently coaxing him forward. “Get a move on, Avery. I still haven’t finished talking with you yet.”

Magic sighed deeply, ignoring the squirming movement of the rabbit in the bag, hoping that he could also push out the bad feeling in his gut as he followed Elsie—who was still chattering away—down the hall.