Before they could play the seeking game, Soral needed to learn some form of tracking magic. He was able to find some records in Densooth’s library, but they were all so complex. Some revealed hidden footsteps, others worked like a compass, pointing in some kind of vague direction. All of them, however, required something else to work. Magic, a personal belonging, or even a piece of the person the magic intended to track.

There had to be a way to make this simpler. Soral remembered the memory Chaos had given him, to show him how to get to Doc’s power grid. Perhaps he could do something like that? Without having to make a deal with a nightmare king, of course. It would also be ideal to be able to use it based on a memory or idea of the person rather than some kind of physical manifestation.

In times like these, Soral felt it was best to consult Insanity.

‘What you want is possible,’ she assured him, ‘Think of the connection you have with me. You were able to use it to listen on other’s thoughts. Now, instead of listening to their thoughts feel for their being. Let their minds tell you where they are. See through their eyes.’

Seeing through their eyes? That would work! And it sounded a lot simpler than his original idea. Soral concentrated on Rosalie like he would if he was going to listen to her thoughts, but instead, opened his mental eyes to see her sight. Since she was not hiding yet, Soral immediately recognized the dining table in front of her as well as some veggies she was chopping very inefficiently.

Distracted, Soral immediately rushed over to help before the vegetables became too ruined. He wasn’t expecting her to be so surprised when he appeared that she nearly sliced a finger instead.

“Sorry,” he apologized immediately.

“I know you treat the kitchen as your second home but you can’t just go popping in and out willy nilly!” Rosalie shouted.

He flinched, but luckily her anger vanished as her adrenaline cooled. “Sorry,” Soral mumbled again.

“It’s fine already. So, what brought you in? Making something new?”

With some reluctance, Soral explained the situation. Rosalie was a little alarmed at first, but became excited by the end. Especially when he mentioned that it was his first test of his tracking magic idea.

“Let’s practice, then,” she told him, immediately getting up, “Give me ten, no, five minutes. I have an idea. And no cheating by peeking at my thoughts.”

Soral nodded and watched her leave the room with excited steps. Should he take this chance to rescue those poor vegetables? It shouldn’t take him too long. Vegetables redeemed and respectably proportioned, Soral focused on Rosalie again. He immediately discovered the problem of this method when he saw through her was pitch blackness. Other senses maybe? Or he could try to ask her, like he did with Insanity?

Conflicted, Soral did an odd mix of things as he focused on finding her, witnessing a memory of her hiding. He could see memories? Was that normal? Would that hurt Rosalie? He quickly appeared to check on her, just in case.

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“That was fast,” she commented, a little disappointed when he showed up with a magic light, “I thought the darkness would dissuade you a little.”

“It did,” Soral confirmed, “I had to do something… else? Are you alright? I accidentally looked into your memory.”

“I feel fine,” Rosalie told him, looking herself over, just in case, “I didn’t feel anything, actually. I would have thought if someone was probing my mind I would notice.”

Soral had actually been under the same impression. It was a bit unnerving to think about. “Maybe it is because of our connection?” he suggested, “You didn’t feel uncomfortable because you know and trust me.”

“That could be it,” Rosalie agreed, relieved, “Let’s test this out a few more times. Try all of your various ideas and we will see what works best. I wish we could just ask him where he is.”

“We can, or I can,” Soral said, “At least I think I can. That is another thing we can test.”

Rosalie was a bit confused but agreed. “Sure.”

Practice began in earnest, both in seeking spells and thought communication. Luckily, all that practice completely distracted her, so Rosalie didn’t even notice he had fixed her vegetables when they got back to the kitchen.

==========

While he enjoyed his role as the current ruler of Qilin, Mr. Mischief had to agree with Soral. It was annoying having to pass tasks between them and their various days, or versions of the day. It felt like a waste. He resolved to find some way to communicate with his cousins within the day, but that would have to wait. First things first.

He used Soral’s new method to immediately track down Storm and appear beside him. Storm took it well, but Mr. Mischief was pleased to note some small signs of agitation hidden behind the usual laid back demeanor.

“My Liege, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Storm asked, sarcasm practically dripping form his tone. He definitely did not appreciate surprises.

“I have a new opportunity for you. One that will give you a much larger reward than the others have,” Mr. Mischief began, “Kiera conveniently offered to hire Soral for a mission he had already taken on, but he needs your help.”

“Does he?” Storm asked, already used to the oddities of the cousin speak, “And what kind of help would he need from an assassin?”

“We need a way into Gero’s slave trade.”

Storm nodded in understanding. “This is about Kiera’s son,” he immediately deduced, “I can definitely get you in. I know a few methods that aren’t that difficult, but I imagine the less noticeable the better.”

Mr. Mischief had been about to tell him their plans for getting in, but decided against it in favor of hearing what Storm had to offer. “Doesn’t the location change every time?”

“It does, but Gero’s suppliers have to get there somehow. That is why there are magic pathways that are always connected to the outside. All we have to do is blend in with the other suppliers.”

“What about security checkpoints?” Mr. Mischief asked.

“Gero is a lot less concerned about things getting in than he is about things getting out.”

“So infiltration is deliberately easy,” Mr. Mischief correctly surmised.

“That’s right,” Storm confirmed, “There are a few ways in, but as a special service I will teach you my favorite. In return, I want a reward for every day it takes us to carry this mission out.”

Storm was staring right at Mr. Mischief’s pocket as he spoke. The pocket he usually produced his fresh, still seeded faerutil from. A dream fruit a day didn’t seem like a bad deal, so Mr. Mischief agreed. Now they just needed to decide on their team. They couldn’t afford to take anyone who didn’t have a purpose in this mission. Of course, Soral would be going, not Mr. Mischief.

That brought another point to mind. “Were you planning on joining in?” he asked Storm.

“It sounds fun. Why not?” Storm agreed, “Besides, rescue missions are different than raids. If your enemy has someone to hold hostage, you need to have more power at your disposal to combat that.”

“I see no reason he would refuse,” Mr. Mischief told him, “What other kinds of skillsets would be best for this kind of mission.”

“In the best case scenario there will be a bait or distraction, a combat team, and a rescue team,” Storm explained, “I intend on taking the role of bait. If I somehow get caught, Soral can get rid of the collar so I have nothing to fear. Gero would never try to kill someone as valuable as me.”

That made perfect sense to Mr. Mischief. “Taking on the hardest role for yourself,” he mused, “You must be bored now that you retired.”

“I do miss the thrill of constant danger,” Storm admitted.

Evidently he did not count all of the assassins trying to kill him out of revenge for his betrayal as danger. Then again, none of them had ever lasted long against him. The more Mr. Mischief observed, the more he was amazed Soral had bested him in the first place. It was likely only possible because Storm had intended to lose from the beginning.