"What, you don't have one of those?" I quipped before I could stop myself. The irrealis had really done a number on my sense of self-preservation. The woman was pointing a magic shotgun at me; I should definitely not be quipping at all.

"Your weapon," the woman answered. I had regained my senses enough to pay attention and not be snide. Well, hopefully. "Drop it. On the ground. Don't reincorporate it."

I dropped the torchfork. When it struck the wood floor, there was a metallic thud. Flickers of its fire began to peel the varnish from the wood paneling. Nothing was burning, yet.

"Can you put out the fire?" she asked. I shook my head, slowly. As I did, I glanced around the room. Foolish Cousin was still tending to Boddy, and it didn't look like Boddy was going to be rejoining the fight any time soon. Fast Cousin had his pistol out and was locked in a staredown with Carver's Boddy. Her was hiding under the big moon shaped table, head pressed to the floor and hands stretched out in front of her.

"Here." The woman said, kicking over a silver tea tray. "Slowly, now."

I understood. As slowly as I could manage, I knelt down and slid the tea tray under the head of the torchfork. The flames fogged the polish as they flickered, but at least it wasn't likely to go up in flames any time soon. I stood back up, keeping my hands clearly visible. I could cooperate. Maybe Her had the right idea. Surrender and we might get to live. Probably not. Or maybe Carver would have this woman construct another one of those stasis coffins like they used on Archie. I wasn't sure that was better. Archie had been pretty shook up about it.

Wait. Why was Her surrendering? Every weapon in the room was accounted for, and none of them were pointed at the old mystic. With a bit of effort, I summoned my crystal moment again.

Her was lying on the floor with her hands outstretched, after all. But it wasn't in surrender. Through the clarity of the moment, I could see an odd rune-like drawing scratched into the floorboard near her left hand. Her mouth was also open, as if mid-sentence. Of course. She was playing possum. Or...playing...whatever animal is good at surrendering.

For the second time in as many minutes, the crystal moment shattered, leaving shards in the corners of the room. Other people could see those, if they knew to look for them. But they appeared without sound and were almost completely transparent. Focused on me and the cobbles as Carver's goons were, they didn't.

Stall. Warden advised. Your mystic is planning something but she hasn't set it off yet.

"You know," I managed, shakily. "I don't think we've been introduced." The woman's mouth flicked up in a slight smile. She found that amusing? What...how...I guess the kind of mercenary who takes her line of work must have a weird sense of humor. "My name is Daniel. Corners." I offered. I kept both of my hands very visible the whole time I spoke.

"Janet," the other woman answered. "Torsson. Pleasure to meet you, Daniel."

"I wish I could say likewise." What, was I going to say it was a pleasure to meet someone who had a gun trained on me?

"You've got more talent than Carver or I anticipated, with the constructing thing." Change of subject. Not talking about the guns. I liked not talking about guns. She's trying to figure out if you have any tricks prepared for her. Loyal really shocked her. Where had Warden learned to read a situation like that? He was built from my psyche, and I was pretty sure I didn't have the composure for it. It's easier to be detached from in here. You have the people skills, and so do I. It's like I'm always arguing an hour after the fact in the shower, but in real time. Huh. Surprises and surprises, this thought constructing thing.

"How so?"

"Well, you got rid of my viral construct, or you wouldn't be able to have this fight. Actually, I felt it manifest. You notice that, yet?" I had. My own constructs were still tethered to me in some fashion. Even now, I could sense Loyal's progress as she tried to track down Carver. He'd made it out into the main part of the House, though. He had a lot of places to hide, and Loyal kept getting interrupted by what I assumed were hobs. I hoped she wasn't harming them. "Let it borrow this gun, too. Takes a fair amount of skill, to cast him out. Especially considering he was specifically designed to keep you from noticing that he existed."

"Had some help," I admitted. "That thing chasing Carver. Shouldn't you be trying to stop it?"

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"He's not caught yet." She seemed as sure of that as I was. She must have constructed something that was with Carver. Maybe his bulletproof suit. "I want to know how you got that thing and how it got rid of Interloper."

Ah, Interloper had been his original name. Wait, Janet had named him? Maybe she was working from a different playbook than Gary Westlake. Or maybe she was just that reckless. I seriously doubted she was that inexperienced.

"Kinda all happened by accident." Her shoulders tensed and I froze, anticipating the shot. After a moment, when she hadn't shot me, I let my breath out and continued." The thing was a metaphor, out on the Lane. I accidentally manifested it, my first night outside of walls. Sleep metaphor. Interloper, if that's what his actual name was, let his guard down long enough for it to slip out. When I reincorporated it, I got knocked out. Turns out, a fragment of my original filtering construct was working against yours. It managed to partially repurpose the sleep metaphor into an anti-Interloper filter."

I glanced over at Boddy. He still wasn't able to stand, but he seemed to have regained consciousness. He was a solid six feet from his gun, though. And as far as I'd been able to discern, Foolish Cousin didn't carry one. If only I could signal them about Her's spellwork without Janet seeing.

"That's why you were a day late getting to the drop. Your own metaphor knocked you out." Janet still hadn't relaxed her shoulders, but the squint in her eyes seemed to be fading. Somewhat. I hoped that wasn't just my wishful thinking.

"Yeah, I didn't really know what I was doing. I'd only been a constructor for about twenty minutes. So I succumbed in the reintegration. Out cold, better part of a day."

"And then you cast out Interloper?"

"Not right away. He was adaptable. Good work, I guess." She nodded slightly, not letting her focus slip. Finally, her shoulders seemed a little more relaxed. "He passed himself off as a native construct for another couple days. Kept doing his other jobs. Kept me from knowing what the delivery was about."

"Huh. I hadn't meant to give him that much free reign, but it almost worked. What next?"

"Right before the drop off. We were late, so nobody was there to greet us. I started putting together the pieces that I had managed to retain. Realized what Carver wanted. Your construct manifested himself to try to coerce me. Boddy and I got away."

"Constructs don't manifest themselves. You had to have cast him out."

"I didn't do it on purpose, at least. It wasn't like I've had a lot of time to practice construction. I didn't even try to work out the basics until your guy was out of my head. Probably because he was preventing me from wanting to."

It's amazing how long three heartbeats can stretch out when you're looking at the wrong end of a loaded weapon. Finally, Janet broke the silence.

"I believe you." She did not, however lower her gun.

"I have a question of my own," I risked a glance at Her. Her drawing was large enough to casually notice now. She was still whispering to herself. How much more time did she need?

"When I'm finished. You said my construct escaped when you worked out what Carver was planning. What, exactly, was that?" she asked. One of her feet slid outward very slightly, widening her stance. I didn't know enough about fighting to work out whether that meant anything.

"You already know, don't you?" Surely, she was aware of the general idea. Right? She had to be.

"I knew the how. Not the what. Carver said, and I quote 'you'll be more comfortable not knowing'. But he can go jump off a bridge. You and yours are fighting awful hard against it, and I'm way past my retainer at this point. I'm starting to think I should have charged more for this job. What was he doing?"

"You heard what I said, when we were all being civil?" She'd been sitting right here when I leveled my accusations. How could she not know?

"I heard. It was a lot of smoke and mirrors. All talk, no content. You and Carver both."

Wait. That wasn't right. I had clearly charged him with his crimes. Hadn't I? Not really. You gave the crimes, but not the evidence, as it were. Crap. I really needed to work on my public speaking.

"He tried to sell the House's concept," I explained.

"I worked out that much. To whom, and why?"

"An Alley House. Opulence, or Extravagance, something like that. Flaunted wealth, by whatever name. Probably thought he could come out on top, considering his resources."

Janet lowered the shotgun slowly, by degrees. It was still pointed at me, just less threateningly. Evil Boddy noticed. His grip tightened on the handle of his gun, and he started flicking his eyes back and forth around the room. "Miss Torsson. You're still under contract for this job. If you lay down your weapon, everything is forfeit."

"Who else?" Janet asked, quietly. She didn't answer Evil Boddy. Remorseful. Warden guessed. I didn't need his help to recognize it, though.

"Honor," I recited. I'd committed the affected Houses to memory. Writ in stone, metaphorically speaking. And actually speaking, from the perspective of my mindscape. "Dignity, Authority, Respect, Beauty, Fortune, Happiness. And Inheritance."

"Virtues all. And Carver wanted to sell them to Opulence?"

"So it would seem."

"Huh," was all she said. Her shotgun was now pointed at the floor. Slowly, I let myself take a breath. For a moment, I thought maybe we'd be peaceful. "I should have charged more. Authority is a big hit." Quick as a cat, she raised the shotgun at me again. "Then again, I guess I'm on the receiving end either way. Just gotta flaunt some wealth. Thanks, Daniel. It really is a shame to lose a constructor of your skill, but considering we'd be working against each other..." she let that trail off. "You understand."

I didn't, but it was too late to point that out. Janet braced the shotgun, at the exact moment that Her shouted something in a language not meant to be spoken by (or to) humankind. Razorwires lashed out around the whole room. Janet's shot went wild, deafening me yet again.