I Must Be Crazy

The fight was short and unpleasant, and Tiar proved to be a reasonably challenging opponent. But it ended, and the demon girl burst into an almost angelic shower of light. Argent sheathed her swords and let out a sigh of relief.
“Finally. We’re done here.”
“Well done, everyone, you all did so well I didn’t even need to help you!” crowed Myles Granger. Seeing their expressions, he simply turned and ran. Hadrian grabbed Zariya’s collar to stop her chasing after him.
“That guy!” she said angrily. “I can’t believe we wasted the time to get a jewel for him! It was a complete waste!”
“Oh well,” said Darcie with a shrug. “It was an experience.” She glanced at Tracy and Markus. “Mark, you okay?”
The blonde boy was staring down at the ground. At her words, he jumped, and quickly wiped his eyes.
“Oh, yes… I just… it’s over, you know.”
She smiled. “I know.” She pulled him into her arms and hugged him tightly. “It’s okay now.”
“It’s not over, I’m sure,” Marn said gloomily, tapping one of his daggers against his mask. “There’ll be all sorts of things still to go… excuses for what happened… cleaning up… more explanations and excuses…”
“Don’t be so grumpy, Marn!” Lissy threw her arms around his waist, laughing. “For now, we’ll be alright!”
Tracy smiled. Her little sister was probably right.

A few days later, and much of the cleaning up, at least, had been dealt with. Goodbyes had been said to the three warriors, and they had returned to their own worlds; Myles Granger had slunk off somewhere by himself. Everyone had gone back to their normal routines as much as they could, although the high school was still closed.
It was a Thursday, and Tracy and Markus had managed to shake off Darcie. They’d gone to pick up Lissy from school on their own, and now they were going on their own, private quest.
The Agency doors swung upon, and Mr Pith looked up and sighed. “Not you three again. Why don’t you just set up camp beds and never leave? What’s the problem this time?”
“There’s no problem, Mr Pith,” said Tracy. “We just wanted to ask a question.”
He sighed. “Go ahead.”
Markus leaned on the desk. “How can we hire someone out forever?”
The small man said nothing for a while, then smiled. “Who do you have in mind?”
Tracy hesitated, and glanced at Lissy. “Well, everyone. Darcie, Hadrian, Crispin and Zariya. I’d miss any of them, if they were to leave.”
“Well… it depends.” Mr Pith folded his arms.
“On what?”
“Whether or not they want to stay, of course. If they don’t want to stay, well, you can’t force them, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“And if they do want to stay?”
“Hmm… let me think.”
Tracy crossed her fingers as he peered at his computer screen. After a few moments, he looked up and nodded at the collection tin which still sat on the desk. “Pass that here, will you?”
Tracy frowned, but pushed it across the desk to him. Mr Pith unscrewed the top and tipped out the contents. A few pound coins rolled across the desk, and a few miscellaneous other bits of change. Mr Pith smiled. “All from you people. No-one else has entered this Agency in months.” Tracy said nothing, not quite sure where this was going. The small man counted out the little pile, then recounted, and recounted again. At last, he looked up at them. “Yes… it’s enough.”
The three siblings blinked at him. “Are you joking?” Markus said flatly. “There’s, what, five pounds there? When every other time we’ve had to bring you jewels worth insane amounts of money?”
“Ah, but this is different.”
“How is it different? And anyway, I thought that was for - for Jimbawhistle!”
The little man roared with laughter. “Doesn’t exist.”
“What?”
“There’s no such person as Jimbawhistle. I suppose it’s a test. It sounds like you’re giving money to something pretty pointless, right? So what kind of person would put money in?”
“Um…”
He leaned forward. “Kind people. People worth knowing. People worth being around.” He shrugged. “And people who like to flash the cash, but I don’t think that applies to you.” He sat down again. “In any case, it’s enough. Aren’t you going to tell them? I’m sure they’ll be happy to know they’re staying.”
The Vauns exchanged glances, hardly believing their luck. Lissy burst out laughing, and ran towards the door. “Mr Hadrian can stay!” she called out happily.
Markus grinned. Perhaps things would be okay after all.

It is never a good idea to underestimate something. If you underestimate how much money you need to buy something, not only will you not receive whatever it was you were wanting to buy, but you may also be chased from the shop or arrested, if you try to take it anyway. If you underestimate how long it will take you to do something, then you will probably end up being late for something very important, or at the very least you will lose valuable hours you could have spent sleeping or doing something similarly constructive.
Possibly one of the worst things you can do, however, is underestimate the strength and numbers of an opposing force. When the group arrived in the centre of town, they found more than they had been expecting. It was a battlefield, no less, although there were no bodies strewn about the place; as they watched, the life of a demon was ended, and its body burst into motes of light and disappeared without another trace.
“There are so many!” Daniel exclaimed, staring around. The battle was raging mostly in the centre of the square, with normal citizens hurrying by or watching in horror and amazement from the sidelines.
“Look out,” Zariya said tersely, as one of the demons spotted them and came charging over. There was a click from beside them, and Crispin lobbed something small and colourful at it. The demon lunged stupidly to catch it in its mouth - and exploded. Crispin cackled in delight and punched the air.
“Test run of miniature beach ball explosives, complete!”
“Just keep them away from me,” muttered the werewolf, shaking her head. “I’m going in, can’t miss all this fun now, can I?” She shifted again, and loped towards the demons. Hadrian sighed.
“Well, I was under the impression that we would be protecting our human friends, but oh well, if she must go and get stuck in. Crispin, Darcie?”
“We’re right here,” the nanny said. “And staying here.”
“I have more beach balls,” Crispin offered, waving one. Darcie pushed it away from her ear.
“If you explode us, Crispy, I’m never going to forgive you, got it?”
“Yes, Darcie. Sorry.” He bowed his head humbly, and lobbed another beach ball into a small group of demons nearby.
Markus was scanning the crowds of demons closely, standing on the tips of his toes to try and see further. “Where’s Tiar? I can’t see her anywhere.”
“As if you would,” Darcie said. “Look around, Mark, we’re surrounded by… well, monsters.” The demons were monstrous. Most were around seven feet tall, although many seemed shorter as they were stooped over, with hunched backs and deformed spines. There were hundreds of variations of demon; horns, scales, claws, teeth, fur, spines, slime. They all seemed to move about erratically, unless there was someone near them, in which case they charged, intent on their prey.
At the point Argent landed next to them, swords drawn. Loki sat on her shoulders, clutching a handful of her hair in each fist and grinning widely. “Hey, Markus, everyone! Why’ve you showed up?”
“How did you… you fell out of the sky!” Daniel spluttered. She gave him a strange look.
“No, Loki makes me fly. Don’t even ask, sometimes he admits to having these weird powers which come in handy. This one’s a new one on me. But why are you here? You might get hurt!”
“Not everyone here is utterly defenceless,” said Hadrian, flexing one of his arms. Argent glanced at him.
“I suppose you wouldn’t be… but I don’t have that much experience with vampires, other than my brief encounter with Eamonn. Where’s Zariya?”
“Entered the fray,” Darcie said, folding her arms. “With her usual thoughtlessness.”
The swordswoman laughed. “She’s nothing like the werewolf I know. I’m going back in, now - don’t die.” Loki whistled a strange tune, and Argent leapt into the air, hovered for a moment, and then sped back towards the demons.
“Flying people with swords?” Daniel rubbed his head. Tracy patted his shoulder.
“I want to look for Tiar,” insisted Markus, grabbing Hadrian’s arm. The vampire looked down at him.
“You should have asked her. I’m not leaving here. And neither are you,” he added, stopping the boy as he made to go towards the battle. “Don’t you understand? They won’t hesitate. They’ll just kill you. Unlike Tiar, these are not true demons.”
Markus hesitated. “What do you mean?”
The vampire looked up at the creatures in front of them. “There are two types of demon. There are the true demons, such as Tiar. They are reasonably civilised, intelligent, powerful creatures. Like all species, some are better than others, and you get the occasional bloodthirsty psychopath, just as you get with humans or vampires, or any race. Then, there are… well. Lesser demons, I suppose you could call them. They are the result of a mutated gene, which means that true demons cannot breed in the usual manner. If they do, the result is… that.” He nodded at the monsters.
“How do they breed, then? Surely all the true demons would die out?”
“There are other methods of creating new life. They use a process called splicing - genetic engineering. They are able to replace the faulty gene, and create the next generation. Although, true demons are extraordinarily long-lived - even more so than vampires are. I believe they may be the longest living species ever discovered.” He shook his head. “But in any case, these lesser demons are what have formed most people’s stereotypical images of demons. Originally, they were culled as soon as they were born, but occasionally some depraved maniac takes it into his head to create an uncontrollable army, and will amass huge numbers of these creatures before releasing them upon whichever world he is concentrating his attack on. In some cases, a few will escape the bonds of the worlds they’re intended to stay in, and end up here, or in other places. Sometimes the effects are devastating, especially if the populace is unprepared.” He looked down at Markus, who was watching the demons with new understanding. “The fact of the matter is that they have little in the way of mental processes, no regrets and no conscience. Even if Tiar doesn’t want you dead, they won’t care.”
“But…” Markus looked into the crowd again. Hadrian patted his shoulder.
“Be patient. She’ll show her face eventually.”

For a while they just waited, Crispin lobbing exploding beach balls whenever a group got close enough and Hadrian systematically destroying any demon which decided to try and take them on. Eventually Marn emerged from the fray and stumbled over to them, out of breath and quite a bit worse for wear. A few of the huge creatures pursued him, but burst into specks of glowing dust after receiving one of the explosive beach balls.
Marn collapsed in the centre of the group, panting. Something had taken a generous chunk out of the wood of his mask, and as a result half of his face and one amber eye was exposed. Blood trickled from various wounds on his bare skin.
“First aid, coming through…” Darcie knelt next to him. She’d brought the first aid box from the agency with her, and had also added to it a number of potions and creams of her own recipe. The warrior winced as she began dabbing at him with the contents of one of the bottles.
“That stings.”
“Don’t be such a baby. If I don’t do this your whole body will rot and bits will fall off you.”
“Have you seen Tiar?” demanded Markus at once, leaning over him. Marn blinked up at him.
“Tiar? No. I don’t think I have, in any case. I have the feeling that that Granger man was intending to go after her alone, and leave us to deal with the rest.”
“That’s not very fair.”
“I’m used to not very fair.” He winced again. “Ow!”
“Baby.” She switched to a different bottle of different coloured liquid, and Marn watched in amazement as the wounds she treated with it closed up, healing without a trace. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to take your mask off?” As he clutched it protectively, she added, “Only there’s blood running down your neck and I’m guessing it’s from a head wound. Come on, you’ll still be holding it so it’s not like someone else has it… and head wounds can be dangerous…”
“Oh, alright.” He pulled off what was left of the mask, and turned it to face him as Darcie went to work on the long cut on his forehead. “Oh, no…”
“It’s a bit broken, isn’t it?” said Lissy sympathetically, coming to look. “It’s sad when things break.”
He glanced at her. “Yes… I’ll have to fix this.” He ran a finger down the edge where it had broken. “There’s not much point in a broken mask, is there?”
“Kinda symbolic, isn’t it?” Darcie watched as the cut healed up, and he replaced the mask. “It’s a pity that you wear it, I think. You have nice eyes - unusual colour.”
Marn sighed, settling the straps in place. “Bane of my life, actually. They mark me apart from the rest of my village. The mask is a blessing, in that respect.”
“So you’re hiding it?”
“No.” He pointed to a symbol under one of the eyeholes of the mask. “See this? It means ‘monster eyes’.”
“That’s not very nice.”
The warrior laughed, and stood up. “I suppose not. It’s a mark of impurity, you see, so of course I would not be allowed to hide it. My mother was not bonded with a man when I was conceived.”
“But surely that simply means you’re illegitimate?” said Hadrian. “Nothing to do with orange eyes, or monsters.”
“No, you misunderstand. The creature who sired me was not human. In my world there is a certain type of creature whose whole existence is centred around impregnating women, presumably to flood the world with its foul spawn.”
“An incubus,” said Hadrian, nodding. “’Foul spawn’ is going a little too far, I feel. There’s nothing foul about you.”
The visible section of Marn’s face looked taken aback for a moment. He shook his head. “This… this isn’t helping our campaign. I return to the battle, my friends. Be well.”

Tiar eventually showed her face near the end of the battle. The majority of the demons had been defeated, and they had stopped straying near the little group of observers. Kay was currently having first aid administered to her by Darcie, although her grin was still wide and happy.
The demon girl appeared in the middle of the square, looking as fresh as a daisy and carrying a blue parasol. Unlike the last time Markus had seen her, she was no longer wearing school uniform, but an old-fashioned knee length dress, which suited her down to the ground. He gulped.
She looked around, and sighed. “I hoped they’d be better than this.”
“Halt, foul demon!” bellowed a voice, and Granger appeared triumphantly from an alleyway. He had clearly been hiding there throughout the battle, and rather than the cheer of recognition he’d clearly been hoping for, his appearance prompted, instead, a serious of groans and muffled insults from his comrades. He stopped and pouted at them. “What? You’re meant to be on my side!”
Tiar laughed. “What’s this, more people just to fight little old me? Where’s Markus?” She searched the group for him, smiling when her eyes met his. She held out her hand. “Come to me. I promise I won’t hurt you, or anyone else. I just want us to talk.”
Markus hesitated. Hadrian leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Go. Don’t worry, if she shows any signs at all of being dangerous we’ll get you out of there. For now, I don’t think she’ll hurt you.” Markus nodded, setting his jaw.
“Wait! Markus, are you insane?” said Daniel, grabbing him. “Isn’t she the one who-”
“Yes, Dad, she is.” As politely as he could, Markus detached himself from his father’s grip. “That’s why I need to speak with her.” Daniel watched him go with shocked eyes.
Tiar smiled as Markus reached her, and held out her arm for him to take. “Come - like a gentleman. That’s right. Shall we walk? I like walking.” A fine drizzle was beginning to descend, cool and more like mist than rain. Markus found himself sheltered under a parasol, walking arm in arm with a killer demon girl, certainly not something he’d ever expected to do.
“Why do you never try and face me alone, Markus?” Tiar’s voice was sad, as though she was disappointed in him for not throwing his life away. “You always find other people… always other people. It hurts me. Especially when it’s people like that Granger man.” Markus said nothing; it seemed the safest thing to do. The demon sighed. “You’re… so weak, Markus.”
Forgetting his previous thought, the boy exclaimed, “What?” She nodded sadly.
“I thought maybe I was wrong about you, but I’m not. You never want to fight your own battles. You always cry for help, or run to people you don’t even know and beg them for protection. Wasn’t that what you did by going to the Agency and hiring me?” The blonde boy tried to pull away from her, but she had his arm pinned firmly in hers and didn’t let him go. “And even now, you hire more people - this time to fight me. Doesn’t that strike you as a bit silly? You never deal with anything alone-”
He pushed her, hard, and she let go. “You killed them! What am I meant to do? I can’t deal with you! You’re insane, a monster, evil!” He ran back to the group. Tiar dropped the parasol and ran after him.
“Don’t call me that!” Hadrian stepped between them as Markus reached the safety of the group. Tiar stopped, and screamed past him. “You see, you just prove my point! You’re just too afraid to face me alone, you just run back to your little friends! And they’re not even proper friends, other than your family, and even they can’t choose you - you hired them, with money, they’re forced to be here! Markus, I choose you, I want to be your friend, I want to be with you forever! I want you to walk with me, I want us to be in love and get married and - why can’t you see that? You won’t need anyone else, you won’t need anyone to protect you!”
“Wow, she’s creepy,” Argent’s voice whispered in Markus’s ear, and he suddenly realised that he’d run straight into her arms. Blushing, he took a step back. The swordswoman grinned at him. On her shoulders, Loki wagged a finger at him.
“Back off, punk,” he said, in a jokingly threatening tone.
“Oi, you, girl,” Argent called to Tiar, walking to the fore of the group. The demon, who’d definitely noted the fact that Markus seemed to have run to her, glared daggers at her. “You know, you’re pretty delusional. You claim Markus’s friends aren’t real, that he has to hire them all and that the only people who’d really stick by him are family? You say no-one actually wants him?” She tilted her head to one side, eyes flashing. “Well, think what you’re doing. You’re worse than he is. He doesn’t want you, and so what do you do? You go overboard. You release hell on this world - for what? Someone who fears you, hates you?”
“Be quiet! You don’t know how I feel.”
“I think you’re mad, just like he said.” She drew her swords. “I also think it’s my duty to rid this world and others of people like you. Brace yourself, girly - we’re coming!”

Daniel Vaun was also on his own, and he couldn’t quite work out why. He’d looked all over the house, and in all the usual haunts where his children and their nanny would be likely to be; they were nowhere to be found. There was no note, no nothing. Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t seen them around the house in a while, and of course there was the issue at the high school. All in all, Daniel was worried.
Once he was sure he’d completely exhausted all of his other ideas, he got in his car and drove to Lissy’s school. It was Saturday, so it probably wouldn’t be open, but teachers did lots of overtime, didn’t they? Didn’t they? He always remembered his own teachers complaining about it when he was back at school. So there was a chance, a teeny, tiny, weeny little chance, that she would be there.
His luck held out, and he found Miss Annie Plum in her classroom, making a new wall display. She glanced up as he came in uncertainly.
“Ah, Mr Vaun? Could you hold this for me, please?” She held out the end of a piece of rainbow coloured wool. Nonplussed, he took it, and she went across to the other side of the classroom, kicked off her shoes and climbed on a desk. Daniel watched as she tied her end of the wool onto a small nail in the very corner of the ceiling.
“What are you making?”
“It’s in preparation for Christmas time, we’ll be making cards. Then we can hang them up here until it’s time to take them home.” She jumped off the desk and came over to claim the other end of the wool. As she tied it in the corner, so that the wool went diagonally across the ceiling of the classroom, she asked, “What exactly are you doing here, Mr Vaun? It’s Saturday. From what I’ve heard you should either be working or spending time with your children. And as you are apparently not working, you definitely should be spending time with your children.” The look she gave him could have melted plastic. Daniel gulped.
“That’s the problem,” he said. “I can’t find them.”
“You’ve lost your children.” She stared at him for a moment, then jumped down from the desk with a sigh. She brushed a bit of dust off her skirt. “And I thought I’d heard it all.”
“I’ve not lost them!” he protested weakly. “I just… can’t find them. Darcie, too, they’re all nowhere to be found.”
Miss Plum shook her head, packing up the wool and various other things she’d been using for the display. “Well, at least we can assume they’re probably with a responsible adult.”
“Unlike usual?” muttered Daniel, half to himself. She looked at him in surprise.
“Sorry?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, nothing-”
“Tell me what you said.”
The teacher tone of voice she’d just used had its effect, and he said automatically, “Unlike usual, I thought you were meaning…”
The teacher put everything in the cupboard, frowning. “I didn’t say that.”
“But you meant it.”
“Daniel, I don’t think you’re a bad parent.” Miss Plum looked directly at him as she picked up her coat and slipped her shoes back on. “I just think there are a lot of things you could do better. And, for your information, if I think the parents of my students are not responsible adults, I tell them that, and I tell them that simply and without any kind of embarrassment on my part. I do not… imply things like that.”
Daniel looked down at his shoes, feeling like he was a little boy made to sit in the naughty corner again. Looking at him, Miss Plum smiled a little, and patted his shoulder.
“Come on, then. Let’s go and look for them.”

They drove around for about an hour, looking all over. Eventually, Daniel shook his head in despair.
“We’re not going to find them. Where on Earth could they be?”
“Who knows? Maybe we just missed them.” Miss Plum gasped as someone stepped into the road in front of them. Braking sharply, Daniel called out of his window at them.
“Watch where you’re going!”
“Oh no,” said Miss Plum. “It’s Mr Nebus.”
Daniel’s eyes widened. “Oh… so it is. I probably shouldn’t have shouted at him like that.”
Ignoring the fact that there was a queue of cars beginning to form behind Daniel’s blue Passat, Mr Nebus came up to Miss Plum’s window and shouted into it, “There you are, Annie, I’ve been meaning to speak to you about something!”
“Is this really the time or place, Mr Nebus?” Miss Plum asked, over the sound of car horns. The headmaster tutted irritably.
“Honestly. Unlock the back door, please, this is urgent.” Once he was in the car, he leaned forward as they drove away. “Annie, those teachers you found have been deeply disappointing.”
“Oh?” said Miss Plum, only half listening. “How so?”
“Well, the clear answer is that they have not been teaching. A number of days over the past week they’ve simply disappeared halfway through the day and not returned - no thank you or by your leave, no mention of it at all, in fact. Oh, there’ve been substitutes turning up to replace them, ones we haven’t hired or even known about, but I was under the impression that the whole point of these people is to get rid of the need for substitutes!”
“You say they’re not ones we know? Not from the usual place?”
“No, not in the least. I wouldn’t have found out unless I’d walked in on one of the classes being taught by some strange man in a kilt! I mean, Annie, a kilt! A real, honest-to-goodness skirt-like kilt. Who in their right mind teaches in a kilt?”
“A Scottish person?” hazarded the teacher. “Mr Nebus, I’m sure they all had perfectly good reason-”
“But they didn’t tell me! If they had good reasons, then surely they could just have… turned up in my office, explained the situation and left! I’m a reasonable man, aren’t I, Miss Plum?”
“You certainly are, Mr Nebus, you certainly are.”
“Then why didn’t they ask?” he wailed. “For all I know they’ve been sloping off for a fag behind the gym!” He massaged the bridge of his nose. “And then there’s this whole business with the high school…”
Miss Plum looked down. She still hadn’t told anyone about what she’d seen happening in the street. None of the other teachers seemed to have seen it, for reasons she couldn’t explain, but she’d spent the rest of the afternoon trying to explain things to her class. She only hoped they hadn’t gone home and told their parents what they’d seen, or she’d probably be dragged out and flogged for telling them scary stories or something of the like.
“I don’t suppose you’ve had any news relating to that?” Daniel asked, tapping on the steering wheel uncomfortably. “All I know is… well, what’s been on the news. And… there was a letter on the dining room table saying something about how Markus was wanted for questioning.”
“Your son?” Mr Nebus exclaimed. “Does he have a history of mental disease and violent crime?”
“No!” Daniel exclaimed angrily. Miss Plum glanced behind her.
“You’re talking about Markus Vaun, Mr Nebus. Don’t you remember him? He was in last year’s Year Six.”
The headmaster hesitated. “Oh… oh, yes. Well… they do say it’s always the quiet ones…”
“I seriously doubt he had anything to do with it,” she said curtly. “Now then, have you spoken to me about what you wanted to?”
“Well, yes -”
“Well then, please feel free to leave at any time. We are, in fact, very busy.”
“O-oh. Well… see you soon, Miss Plum.”
“Bye, Mr Nebus.”
The headmaster got out of the car and closed the door almost reverently before hurrying away. For a while, there was dead silence in the car.
“You don’t think-” Daniel began.
“No,” said Annie. “I don’t.” She glanced at Daniel. “What do you know about Darcie?”
“What do you mean? I know she’s a nanny, she was born in France or something…”
“Ah. No… never mind.” Miss Plum glanced out of the window. “Go to the Agency. I have a hunch.”

The front of the Agency looked as unimpressive as ever. Daniel and Annie kept to one side of the pavement to allow a small group of people pass them; they looked like they were going to a fancy dress party or something, wearing cloaks and swords, and one of them a huge mask. Miss Plum watched them go for a moment, then hurried to catch up with Daniel.
“Here you all are!” he exclaimed, on opening the door and spotting his children.
“And you,” Miss Plum said dryly to her fellow teachers, who exchanged glances.
“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Hadrian asked cordially, bowing with his usual old-fashioned good manners. Ignoring him, Daniel hurried past and swept Lissy and Markus up in a hug.
“Where have all of you been? I feel I haven’t seen you in weeks!”
“Dad!” exclaimed Tracy, a little guiltily. “I though you were working…
“I was, but I’m not now.” He smiled at her. “I was worried when you weren’t home. And you!” He looked down at Markus. “I’ve been hearing things about you.” His son looked away.
“Something came up,” Tracy explained quietly, pulling Markus towards her. Confused, Daniel let him go, wondering what was happening.
“Please don’t worry, Mr Vaun, we have everything under control,” Zariya said, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. She jumped as Miss Plum zoned in on her.
“Which reminds me. I believe we have something we need to discuss.”
“Er.” Zariya peered over her shoulder, giving Crispin and Hadrian a pleading look. The vampire came to her aid with a sigh and a put-upon expression.
“I believe we do, Miss Plum, but it’s not Zariya you need to single out.” He glanced at Daniel. “In fact… I think we all need to talk. The time for secrecy has passed. This no longer involves only a few people.”
“Huh?” Daniel said, looking from Hadrian to Miss Plum to Darcie to Markus. “What’s going on?”
Hadrian smiled. “Fear not, Mr Vaun. All will be explained.”

“So, let me get this straight,” said Daniel after an hour or so. “You’re all weird creatures, and my son formed some kind of agreement with a demon who is now on the rampage?”
“That about sums it up, yes,” said Hadrian, nodding. Daniel looked at the Zariya-wolf, who was lying on the floor with her nose on her paws, looking bored.
“And this is my proof?”
“Well, if you want more I can always suck your blood,” the vampire said. Wolf-Zariya rolled her eyes and stood up. Shaking herself, she turned back into a human.
“Do you really need more proof? Tracy believed us after seeing me turn.”
“But… but…”
“Yes, yes, your whole world is crumbling beneath you, you’re having trouble coming to terms with the truth of reality, blah blah blah,” she interrupted impatiently. “To be perfectly honest I would be lying if I told you I cared. Perhaps if you spent more damn time with your own kids you’d have noticed something was going on.” Daniel winced and looked away.
Hadrian put a hand firmly on Zariya’s shoulder. “That’s quite enough.”
She glared at him, turning her head. “What? No it’s not, he’s being stupidly narrow-minded!”
The vampire’s mouth twitched into a brief smile. “Don’t you remember?”
“Remember? Remember what?”
“When you first learned of what you are. How did you take it? Did you find it… easy? Werewolves are almost never afflicted with lycanthropy from birth, so you wouldn’t have grown up used to it. In our world, you are… inferior. The ruling class are the humans, yet, born into a human family, you became a werewolf.” He squeezed her shoulder. “How did you take it? Think about it.” Zariya stared up at him, and he shook her shoulder gently. “Now, don’t be so hard on him.” Leaving Zariya standing staring into nothingness, Hadrian ushered Daniel into a chair.
“What were you again?” the man asked, rubbing his head. “A vampire?”
“That’s right.”
“He tried to suck the blood of the school hamster, I saw him!” Lissy piped up, grabbing hold of his arm and beaming at her father, who blinked back at her, and then at the vampire.
“You… did?”
“Ah… I thought we agreed not to talk about this?” Hadrian whispered to Lissy, who giggled.
“He’s my daddy, he won’t tell!”
The vampire sighed. “I only hope that’s true.” Daniel blinked at him, and he continued, “The fact of the matter is that your children are in this neck deep, and there’s nothing which will easily get them out. The only thing to do now is to keep moving forward. I’d imagine you saw our hunters moving out, since you arrived when you did?”
“Hunters… the people in cloaks and stuff? And the mask?” Miss Plum asked. He nodded.
“Those are the ones. We should be going to check on them soon, I think.”
“You’re taking this well,” Daniel said weakly to Miss Plum. She looked away.
“She already knew,” said Darcie with a grin. “Or at least, partly.”
“She did? How?”
“I explained some of it to her, when she saw us fighting Tiar in the street.” Hadrian straightened his tie. “I don’t think she really believed us, but perhaps this has convinced her. In any case, we really should be going.”
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Daniel asked him. He raised an eyebrow.
“Safe? Of course not. Don’t be silly. It’s extremely dangerous.” He smiled down at Lissy, who grinned up at him, still hanging onto his arm. “Let’s go, shall we?”

As they waited for Mr Pith to return from wherever he’d gone with the jewel, Darcie, Tracy, Markus and Zariya found themselves explaining everything to Marn.
“That’s why we needed the jewel, you see,” completed Darcie with a nod, dabbing at the cuts on Tracy’s arms with a cotton-wool ball soaked in disinfectant; Alexa had helpfully provided a first aid kit.
“What kind of place is this, that it works for jewels which must be stolen from people who have absolutely nothing to do with it?” the warrior snapped. He was holding his mask to his face protectively as Zariya tended his various small wounds. An impressive bruise was already forming on one shoulder where he’d landed on the ground, turning his already dark skin black-purple. The werewolf tweaked one of the feathers on the mask.
“It’s a very expensive and unusual place,” she told him. “And these are extenuating circumstances. From what I can see, it’s not as if your chief was even using it. How much use will it be stuck on a mask?”
“But masks are important!” he wailed. “It’s like… it’s like stealing a bit of your soul!”
“So what if I do this?” Zariya wrenched his mask out of his hands, retreating a few steps. The warrior screamed as though he was being burned, covering his face with his hands.
“Zariya! Stop that this instant!” Hadrian whisked the mask out of her hands and returned it to Marn. “There. Now, now, don’t cry - you’re a grown man, for shame!”
“Some warrior,” remarked the werewolf, folding her arms. “All you’d need to do is nick their masks and the whole village would be yours for the taking!”
Marn wiped his eyes and glared up at her. For a moment she saw a flash of bright orange eyes - traffic-light orange, almost - before the mask was put back in place and they were once again put in shadow. “The difference is, you see, no-one from our world would - would have the sheer gall to remove our masks.”
“You’re weird,” she said, not overly bothered.
“I think what you did to him was the equivalent of ripping off his underwear,” Darcie said, grinning. Zariya blinked, and made a face.
Mr Pith returned, humming loudly and happily as he climbed onto the chair and sat down. “Right then, you can have your three warriors now. There’s just one more thing I need to say - involving you three.” He nodded at Crispin, Hadrian and Zariya. “You have only two days left before you’ll be returning.”
“What?” exclaimed Lissy, but Darcie cleared her throat and gave Mr Pith a meaningful look.
“I have a few things to say to that, actually.” Mr Pith looked at her mistrustfully, and she smiled. “I see your hair is coming along nicely.” Indeed, a short gingery fuzz had already grown over Mr Pith’s bald spot. He ran his fingers over it, looking pleased that someone had noticed.
“Yes, it is. I can’t remember how long it’s been since hair has grown there.”
“I’m glad to see a satisfied customer.” Darcie sat down on the desk. “You see, Isaiah - I can call you that, can’t I? Good - those jewels we just got for you, they’re worth far more than you’re admitting to us. Just one of them is worth at least a month’s worth of hire for three people, let alone one. You’d still be making a very respectable profit if you let the kids hire two people for each jewel they get.”
Mr Pith stared at her, and then laughed loudly and disbelievingly. “This is a joke, right? There’s no way -”
“You see, Isaiah,” she said over him, acidly, “It was very easy to make your hair grow back, but it’s even easier to make it fall out again.” There was dead silence as she leaned towards the wide-eyed little man, smiling widely. “And when it falls out, it won’t only be the hair you just grew - it’ll be all of your hair. Can you say ‘hairless as a pea’, Isaiah?”
Mr Pith’s mouth was open in horror. Abruptly, he spun away from the desk and to the computer, where he typed and clicked furiously for a few minutes, before returning to the desk, breathing heavily.
“No need to worry, you three, all done, no need for more jewels or money or anything… now you just need to choose your warriors!”
Tracy looked around. “Which reminds me, where is that hunter man? Didn’t he come here with us?”
“He went off to drink beer or something,” supplied Alexa as she came in with tea for Mr Pith. “He should be returning right about now.”
On cue, the doors swung open and in stumbled Myles, yawning. He noticed the way they were looking at him. “What? A man’s got needs.”

The Agency abandoned all pretences of normality as the three warriors were brought in. Three separate portals opened once more, although this time there were no handles on the side of the doors that they could see.
The middle portal was the first to open, and through it stepped a black-haired girl, looking around her with interest. Clinging to her back with his arms around her neck like a monkey was a small boy with a mop of sandy blonde curls and sky blue eyes.
“Argent!” exclaimed Markus, standing up. Catching sight of him, the girl grinned.
“Hey there, Markus, nice to see you again. I was pretty pleased to get your offer - things had been getting boring.”
“What’s this? There’s two of them!” protested Mr Pith. Argent’s expression turned to mild dislike as she looked at him.
“We come as a pair,” announced the small boy on her shoulder. “Count us as one.”
“Yeah, he’s not going to be doing anything,” agreed the swordswoman. “Think of him as a pet.” The boy pouted. Mr Pith sighed, but caught Darcie’s eye and went back to his own business.
“Nice to see you again!” Zariya grinned, waving at Argent. “Looking forward to beating some demons?”
“Always up for a fight,” the girl laughed. “This is Loki, by the way. He turned up just as I was leaving and I didn’t have the heart to leave him behind.”
“Loki?” This was Marn, speaking for the first time in a while. The swordswoman turned to him, looking surprised. “Loki as in Loki Skystar?”
“That’s me!” the boy grinned impishly. “Glad to see my reputation still travels the land. You’re not Bayishi, are you?”
“A By-what-now?” Zariya said, blinking at Loki, who giggled.
“Bayishi. It’s a tribe. Or, at least, I think it is.”
Argent swatted him affectionately. “Stop talking about things you don’t know about.”
“Audax told me!”
“Audax?” exclaimed Hadrian. “You know Audax?”
“You know Audax?”
“Yay Audax!” sang Loki irrelevantly, and was swatted again.
“There was one of the jewels on Audax’s ship,” explained Crispin, and the swordswoman rolled her eyes.
“Typical. Always causing trouble.” She grinned. “I hunted them as a pirate hunter once, that’s how I know her. Audax, Jasper and Eamonn - great people, all of them, but not exactly normal.”
“Says the person with a demi-god on her back,” Marn said. “And no, I’m not Bayishi. Our tribe is from the jungle; the Bayishi are from the savannahs.”
Loki shrugged. “I just knew the Bayishi were from somewhere hot. And their god is a snake. What’s your tribe, then?”
“My tribe are the Migonwe.”
“Never heard of them.”
One of the other doors opened now, and another girl, this one with a wild mess of white-blonde hair, cart-wheeled through. She waved cheerfully, and thrust a folded piece of paper at the person closest to her, who happened to be Hadrian, who unfolded it and began to read aloud.
“’Hello again, dear friends! Sorry I couldn’t come personally, but we just got word of a new treasure on an island tantalisingly close to where we are now, and the temptation is just too much! This is Kay, one of my old shipmates. She’s actually part of my sister’s crew, but I managed to convince her to give you some help. Don’t bother with asking her questions - she doesn’t speak. Although, I’m not sure whether she can’t speak or whether she just doesn’t. It doesn’t matter, anyway - she’s a good fighter and a team player, so I’m sure you’ll all be fine. In any case, I wish you luck, and I’m sure you’ll win the day! Audax.’”
“So you’re friends with Audax?” Lissy asked the older girl. Kay beamed down at her and nodded. Her eyes were wide and a little unfocused, and she had a slightly mad energy about her - a little like Audax’s ceaseless good temper.
“Well, that’s two warriors,” Myles Granger said, although he didn’t look overly convinced. “Two… females. Where is the last?”
“Here,” said Marn quietly, standing up. Myles blinked at him.
“Where’d you come from?”
“He’s been there the whole time,” Tracy muttered. “You’re just blind and stupid.”
“Oh, I’m injured by your dislike.” The demon hunter walked around the warrior, looking closely at him. “Hmm. Not too shabby… I suppose you’ll do. What do you have in the way of weapons?”
Marn’s hand went to his side, and he hesitated. “I - I have nothing. I was unprepared for fighting.”
Granger rolled his eyes. “What can you use?”
“I’m sure I could use anything. Arrows would be best, but I use a special type. I make them myself. A spear or thin daggers would work as well.”
“I’m sure we can provide those.” The demon hunter pulled a pair of dagger from his boots with the air of a magician pulling a rabbit from a hat. He handed them to the warrior, who tested them thoughtfully before looking up at the others.
“If I help you, you will return me to my world afterwards?”
“Of course!” said Tracy, feeling a little sorry for him. He’d been pulled so abruptly out of his world when he’d only been following orders, and now he was willing to help them. The warrior nodded.
“Then I will do my best not to fail you.”
“Good, so we have at least one decent fighter,” Granger said. Argent folded her arms, glaring at him with dark eyes.
“Excuse me.”
The demon hunter raised an eyebrow at her. “Is there a problem?”
“Well yes, yes there is. I don’t like your tone.”
“You’re a cheese-bag,” added Loki, and stuck out his tongue. Myles glared at him.
“Shut up, pipsqueak. Who asked your opinion? You’re not even meant to be here.”
“I’ll smite you!”
“Shush, Lo,” Argent told him quietly, as Myles began walking around her, giving her the same treatment as Marn had received.
“Two swords. What, do you lose them so you carry a spare?” The girl ignored him, so he continued, “You look a bit skinny, not too much in the way of muscle. And then we come to the main problem. Are you going to have your pet hanging on you the whole time?”
“Of course, I’m helping her train,” Loki retorted. “And I cheer her on.”
“Frankly, I don’t see why you have the right to try and order me around.”
“Because I’m in charge here,” snapped Granger. “That’s why.”
“Look, just work as a team!” Markus shouted, throwing his arms up. “She’ll be fine, Granger, just leave her!”
The hunter gave him a baleful look, and turned to Kay. “And what about you?”
Simply enough, she directed a rude gesture at him, grinning widely. He gave up after that, and simply lead his new team out with the intent of getting started on the job.
“Just one more thing,” Mr Pith called to the others as they stood to leave. “Tiar has managed, somehow, to escape the bonds of the Agency.”
“What does that mean?” Darcie said, frowning.
“It means the rules don’t apply to her any longer,” said the little man quietly. “Even if you catch her, the Agency no longer holds any sway over her. We can’t punish her, and we can’t send her back to where she came from.” He sipped his tea. “Basically, you’re on your own.”

“Wow. This place is… warm.”
Darcie made a face at Tracy as the blonde girl fanned herself with a hand. “Don’t even bother trying to do that, it won’t work in a place like this. It looks like we’ve ended up in rainforest somewhere.”
The air was full of water vapour and hard to breathe; in moments, small droplets of water beaded Tracy and Darcie’s hair. Tracy squirmed uncomfortably as perspiration trickled down her back.
They soon found a sheet of paper, rolled up and tied from a vine; Darcie nearly missed it, but Tracy spotted the bright white colour amongst the darker greens and browns and pointed it out.
The vines were possibly the second biggest annoyance. They were everywhere, twining around Tracy’s neck and getting caught on her ankles. Some of the vines had the added features of little stinging hairs, like nettles, or small thorns which got stuck in her clothing and dug into her skin. Soon both of them were suffering from a variety of red welts and long scratches on their arms, legs and faces. Overall, it was not a very nice experience.
After what felt like a few hours of bashing through the jungle, they emerged in a clearing where the trees and undergrowth had been cut away. With a sigh of relief, Darcie sat down on a tree stump.
“Right then, aren’t you glad we’re out of that for the moment? Let’s have a look at this, then…”
“It says our names on the front,” noticed Tracy as the nanny unfolded it.
“Interesting… so someone or something knew we were coming.”
“This is very different from the last time,” said the blonde girl, and sat down next to Darcie on the tree-stump, which was luckily wide enough for both of them.
“‘The Jewel of Origin’,” read the nanny. “‘This jewel stands apart from the others. Rather than being named after a trait or concept - however it may sound - it is named after a world, the diverse and largely uncharted world of Origin’.”
“I’ve never heard of that world,” Tracy said, and her companion laughed.
“That means it doesn’t exist, I suppose? I’ve heard of it, actually - supposedly, their gods named it Origin because it was the first world. The first world how or where, they don’t say. I just think it’s the first world made by those gods.”
“Don’t you find it… strange? Talking about gods like they’re engineers or construction workers or something?”
“Not really. Arguably, some of the gods are, especially in worlds like that. Unlike in your world or mine, on Origin the gods are real, sentient entities. They can be seen and heard and touched, at least in some forms, and ostensibly they eat and drink and go to the toilet.”
“They don’t sound very godly,” said Tracy doubtfully.
“Their godliness lies in their powers, and in their blood. To all intents and purposes gods are immortal. Godhood is also a station which can be granted, although it’s a little more complicated than applying for a job or something. First, the person must take the station of demi-god - where they have limited powers and are granted lesser immortality - and then, if they prove themselves worthy of being a god, they must die and be reborn in their full power.”
“And all gods go through this?”
“Oh no, some are simply born that way. Some are born as demi-gods, for instance, and then, because the holy blood already runs within their veins, they can be promoted to full god without the whole death and rebirth thing. Some gods are born as gods, of course, and some gods - like the original gods - just… appear. Out of nowhere, as adults. Very strange stuff.”
“And then when you’re a god you’re a god forever?”
“Not quite. Gods are changing all the time - it can be quite a dog-eat-dog world, from what I’ve heard. All sorts of politics going on. Gods can be demoted to demi-gods, demi-gods to… well, nothing. Of course, it depends how you were born when that happens. If you were born human, you go back to being human. If you were born god or demi-god, you… well, you’re an ex-god or ex-demi-god. You’re not human, but you’re not anything else; you live longer than any other race, you have powers left over from before. It’s a hard existence, or so I’m told.” She flourished the piece of paper. “But we’re getting off-topic, let’s continue. ‘This jewel may be a little harder to find than the others, and certainly harder to find than the Jewel of Mirrors. This is because the jewel moves around, because it is, in fact, attached to a living, breathing life form’.”
“‘Life form’? Why is it a ‘life form’ and not just a, a person, or an animal?”
“Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore.” Darcie glanced at the paper one last time, folded it and stood up. “When they say life form, they mean life form. Presumably it’s not human. Come on.” As Tracy followed her, she continued, “The letter said that we’re looking for a village of… well, it said ‘primitives’, but I suspect that the author of the letter was Mr Pith, so we’re looking for a village of people. We’ll call them people, because we don’t know exactly what they are. People will do. Anyway, the Jewel of Origin is attached to the head of the village chief, so we may have some trouble getting it.”
“It’s on his head?”
“That’s what I said, yes,” said Darcie mildly. “Must be all this humidity that’s making you deaf.”
They found the village quite easily, at the end of a path opened by the cleared away trees and undergrowth. The buildings could really only be described as primitive; little huts with leafy roofs and mud-daubed walls. It seemed deserted, until a hand snaked out of nowhere and clamped over Tracy’s mouth. Before she could speak or scream, something dark and suffocating went over her head, and her world turned abruptly to muffled blackness.

“Tracy! Tracy!”
The suffocating blackness suddenly disappeared, and fresh, cool air hit Tracy in the face like a slap. She coughed, feeling as though her lungs were full of dust.
“Tracy,” the voice said again, a bit less urgently this time. The blonde girl rubbed her eyes and opened them to find Darcie about to shake her shoulders.
“What just happened?” she asked, sitting up. Her nose was itchy.
“Basic kidnap scenario,” the nanny said, almost sounding bored. “They found us outside the village, deemed us to be a threat, bam bam kapow, bags over the head, thrown in a hut.” She knocked on one of the walls with her knuckles. “To be honest, given enough time I could just kick my way out of here. Especially if I was wearing heels, but I’m not, so trainers will just have to do.”
“Are we a threat?” Tracy stood up as well. Darcie shrugged.
“Depends. If you count the fact that we’re going to nick the jewel, then I guess so.” She glanced at her hand. “You know, I met a mage once who showed me how to throw fireballs… I know I’m not a mage but I’m sure it’s still worth a try…”
Just as she was striking a dramatic pose, the door opened and someone entered the hut. Tracy instinctively backed away; the person was tall, muscular, male and wore a rather threatening mask about four times bigger than his head. It seemed to be decorated with tribal designs, and feathers, beads and strips of fur dangled off it in places.
Darcie innocently adjusted her pose. “Why, hello there, stereotypical male warrior of unknown jungle tribe-”
“Why were you lurking outside the village like some strange beast?” demanded the warrior impatiently, the mask making his voice boom hollowly. Tracy blinked.
“You speak English?”
The mask turned to face her. “In-g-lish? I am speaking Original, foreign lurking creature.”
“Language spell,” Darcie decided. “Ah, magic, it does so much for us.”
Tracy, in the meantime, had been distracted by something else, namely the thick ridges of scar tissue on the shoulders of the warrior. They ran down towards his chest, and made swirling patterns on the skin of his torso. “You must answer my question,” he was saying angrily, and folded his arms, hiding the scars; Tracy’s eyes moved instead to the bright bracelets on his arms, which were twinned with ones around his ankles.
“We’re evil spirits come to haunt you,” Darcie said, putting her arms out stiffly in front of her like a zombie, wrists limp. “You can tell by our pale skins.”
“Do you think I’m stupid? I know your kind. You white people come all the time, in ships. Sometimes you make deals with traitors in our own villages, to sell us into slavery. And you think I would not know you.”
Darcie lowered her arms weakly in the face of his disgust. “Ah. And there my little ploy falls apart. I was hoping you-”
“-were a primitive tribesman, little better than an animal?” completed the warrior dryly.
The nanny bobbed her head. “Maaybe.”
With a sigh, the warrior stepped aside and motioned to the door. “Go out, white creatures. The chief wants to see you.”

The chief presided over the village from a throne which was no less impressive for its apparent simplicity. It was set into a cliff face on one side of the village, and it was only when you got closer that you could see the myriad of tiny, complex designs carved into it. The chief himself was no less impressive, wearing an enormous mask which probably doubled his apparent height. On seeing Darcie and Tracy, he shook his head slowly, feathers swaying from side to side.
“So it’s you who’ve caused all this bother. Honestly, are you people ever happy? You were only just here a few weeks ago, now you’re back again! What do you want this time?”
The nanny leaned down to Tracy and whispered in her ear, “Look at his forehead - just between the eyeholes.” Tracy looked. Between the eyes of the mask glinted a jewel, turquoise blue in colour and about the size of a hens egg.
The warrior who stood a little way behind them stepped forward and grabbed their shoulders. “Answer the chief!” he ordered angrily, shaking them. Darcie shook him off and kicked behind her, aiming at his knees; he jumped back before she contacted, muttered.
“We don’t have anything to do with people who’ve been here before,” Tracy said. Even to her own ears her voice sounded high and nervous. “We just ended up here, I don’t know what happened.”
The chief slapped the arm of his throne, making her jump. “The likeliness of that ever happening is so low, I’ll just take that as an attempt at a joke rather than sentencing you to a drawn out and painful death.”
“Chief,” said the warrior behind them. “Is it really so unlikely? I mean… look at their clothes.” He plucked at the shoulder of Tracy’s T-shirt. “We’ve never seen anyone wearing something like this. It’s almost as if they’re not from this world.”
“Demons?” the chief bellowed, almost knocking his mask askew.
“No, chief, not demons,” the warrior said, with more patience than he’d had with Tracy and Darcie. “It’s quite possible that there are other worlds which can be linked with this one - haven’t the Elders told us so?”
“The Elders are insane to a man,” snapped the chief, adjusting his mask self-consciously. Darcie’s eyes followed the movement of the jewel, and Tracy felt her tense beside her.
“Chief, the Elders know more than we ever could,” said the warrior, as the blonde girl moved a tiny bit to one side, giving Darcie space to move if she needed it. “Their knowledge extends far beyond the bounds of ours - they travel to the stars!”
“Marn, as much as their far-dreaming may impress a youngster like you, there is still nothing to support what they tell us -”
Darcie chose this moment to lunge, covering the ground between her and the throne in seconds. The chief cried out in surprise as she mounted the throne and made a grab for the jewel. She prised it out without any trouble - although Tracy noticed a pale lime green glow around her hands for a moment, and suspected she used her powers to help things along - before she turned and sprinted back towards Tracy.
“Come on!” she shouted, grabbing her by the arm. “We need to get back to the portal!”
“Marn!” screamed the chief, struggling to get up from his throne. “Don’t let them get away! They have the jewel, they have the jewel!”

A few people tried to stop them on their mad race through the jungle, although the main obstacle was the jungle itself. All the time they could hear Marn close behind them, gaining slowly but surely as they ran through his home turf.
By the time they reached the portal much of their bare skin had been slashed bloody by the vines and undergrowth, but Darcie didn’t give either of them any time to lament this, pulling open the round portal door and just about throwing Tracy through before diving in herself and slamming the door. At once, the handle was wrenched from her grasp, and Marn’s huge mask loomed at her through the opening as he reached through to grab her.
“Darcie!” the nanny heard Tracy scream, and someone else swore. Abruptly the portal ,through which the warrior was still hanging half in and half out, relocated about five feet in the air. In his surprise, Marn lost his grip on her; Darcie fell, and would have crashed to the ground and possibly injured herself if Hadrian hadn’t raced to catch her. They both ended up in a heap on the ground as Marn was forcibly ejected from the portal with a despairing cry. The round portal door disappeared and he landed on the hard floor.
In the absence of a chair, Tracy collapsed on the ground, panting. “I never, ever want to do that again.”
Mr Pith scurried over to Darcie and Hadrian. “Do you have the jewel?”
“Here, you little runt,” growled the nanny, thrusting it at him. “Why’d you bring that guy through the portal? Now we have to deal with him here!”
Tracy glanced at Marn, who was curled up into a ball, groaning softly. “I don’t think we’re going to have to do anything to him. The floor did it for us.”
Zariya, who’d been watching these goings on in amazement from a chair in front of the Agency desk, stood up and went over to him. She tapped on his mask, making him wince. “Wow, you certainly went places. I think he’ll live. Come on, up you get…”
“Are you alright, Tracy?” Markus asked, as the werewolf helped Marn to his feet and lead him over to her vacated chair. “You’ve got cuts all over you.”
She made a face. “I never want to go to a jungle again. But we got the jewel, so that’s all that matters.”

The door Markus and Zariya went through was quite plain bare wood, with a simple latch. On the other side, the sun filtered down through cool green leaves, casting shifting shadows on the ground. They marvelled briefly at the fact that their clothing had changed.
“Great, woods,” Zariya muttered, as the door closed behind them. “I hope we’re near a town or something, ‘cos otherwise this might not be good.”
“Why not?” Markus pulled a piece of paper off a tree. “Hey, look, this has our names on it.”
“It does? Let me see.” The werewolf peered over his shoulder as he read the note.
“The Jewel of Courage,” Markus read.
“Great, a nice cheesy name, always good to see that whoever names these things has no originality whatsoever,” said Zariya. “‘This jewel is currently being held by the village’s champion swordsman. In order to retrieve it, you will need to overcome this obstacle and retrieve the jewel.’”
“We have to fight a swordsman?” exclaimed Markus disbelievingly. “But-”
“It’s s duel, so no,” she interrupted. “One of us has to fight the swordsman, one on one. Sounds like fun, no?”
“No!”
She laughed. “Come on, let’s find this village.”

The village was small and quaint and, back in Markus’s world, would probably have been overrun by tourists. The houses were a little Tudor-ish, but showed other little touches which Markus didn’t recognise.
After wandering around for a while, Zariya stopped a man passing them in the street and asked, “Who’s the strongest swordsman in this place?”
He gave her an odd look. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“How can you tell?” Zariya said innocently. “It’s not my clothes, is it?” She swished her skirt, which was lilac. She had already proclaimed her utter hatred for it at least twice.
“No, it’s not,” muttered the man, peering at Markus suspiciously. “In the inn.”
“Sorry?”
“The inn, the inn! Go to the inn!” the man snapped, pointing back the way they’d come. “It’s next to the forge… honestly, you weirdos all come here…” He stomped away angrily.
“It seems this whole place has a major chill-pill shortage,” Zariya remarked, as she and Markus headed over to the inn.
“You just antagonise them,” the blonde boy murmured, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. The shirt he was wearing was scratchier than he would have liked.
“Always accused of that, aren’t I? I just act like myself, that’s all.” The werewolf strode into the inn and yelled, “Oi, you bunch of winos! Who here thinks they’re a hotshot swordsman and has a fancy shiny jewel thing?”
“Zariya!” Markus said, grabbing her arm. She blinked down at him
“Don’t worry, tiny, I’ll stop ‘em from eating you alive.”
“Hey, girl,” the man behind the bar said nastily. “You know it’s a stupid thing to do to come into a tavern full of people you don’t know and insult them, right?”
“Oh yes,” said Zariya. Markus thought she sounded quite smug, but couldn’t imagine why. “I know that very well.”
“Then why?” demanded the man. “I bet you’ve hardy been here five minutes, yet you’re already causing trouble!”
“What can I say, I’m talented.”
Markus tugged hard on her sleeve, and she looked at him. “Stop it, Zariya!” he said sharply, and looked apologetically around the tavern. “S-sorry about her, she’s, uh, insane.” He didn’t notice the werewolf grin behind him, as if she’d achieved a goal.
There was a chuckle from behind him. “Yes, I think we noticed.” It was a girl with short, messy black hair; she walked past him and went to the bar.
“Argent, they were asking for you,” the man behind the bar hissed to her. Calmly, she took a glass and drew her own drink from the tap.
“I know, I heard that bit too. I think the phrase was ‘hotshot swordsman’? Why do you want me anyway?”
“Don’t want you, want the jewel,” corrected Zariya. The girl, Argent, pulled a small, glinting object from her belt pouch and held it up thoughtfully.
“This one?”
“Yes, that one.” Zariya grinned. “Care to hand it over?”
The girl put it back in her pocket. “Fight me,” she said simply.
“Bite me!” the werewolf responded quickly. The girl rolled her eyes.
“I wasn’t talking to you anyway, I was talking to him.” She nodded at Markus, who blinked, and pointed uncertainly at himself.
“Me? Why?”
“Because you’re the smaller opponent, no doubt,” muttered Zariya. Argent raised an eyebrow at her.
“Well, it will make quite an interesting change,” she remarked. “Usually I’m the smaller opponent. It’ll be fun being the big one for a change. But that’s not the only reason.” She chuckled, and came over to stand in front of Markus. She was about a head taller than him, and he stared up at her with apprehension. Grinning, she put her hands on his shoulders and leaned down to rest her forehead against his.
“You seem to be lacking in confidence a little,” she whispered, so that only he could hear. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, being shy. But you shouldn’t hang onto everyone around you all the time.”
Markus felt his cheeks go hot, and she let him go, grinning. “I - I’m not…”
“So, you going to fight me?” she asked, cutting over him. “There’s no way you’ll get your crystal otherwise.”
Markus hesitated. “I… I don’t know how to fight.”
“You don’t? Not even fisticuffs?” the girl asked, surprised. He shook his head.
“Well, you couldn’t exactly have him fighting with his fists against your sword,” the barkeeper observed. Argent sighed.
“I wasn’t going to fight him with my swords if he was a fist-fighter, stupid. That’s just unfair.”
“Well, if you teach him to use a sword, it’ll still be unfair,” pointed out some other person who was sitting at the bar. “He’ll have… what, a few hours experience? You’ll have about… six years?”
“Ten.” The girl pursed her lips. “You’re right, actually. I never considered what would happen if I was challenged by someone who couldn’t actually fight.”
“Well, we don’t usually have idiots passing though,” the barman muttered. Argent focused on Zariya.
“I don’t suppose you can fight?”
“I’m a champion at verbal sparring.”
“Hmm. No, not quite. Ah! I have an idea.” She turned to the tavern in general. “I don’t suppose we have any bar brawlers in here?” A few men admitted that they may know a few things about hand to hand, down and dirty fighting. “Brilliant! Then you’ll be willing to teach a couple of eager students?”
“What?” Markus said weakly. She squeezed his shoulder, waiting for the responses of the men. At last, one volunteered cautiously to share his knowledge.

For the next few hours, the man, who introduced himself as Sentinel, trained Markus and Argent in the art of brawling. Although he claimed his name was Sentinel, whether this was his real name was questionable, and although he called brawling an art, it certainly didn’t seem to be to Markus; it mostly involved using whatever was on hand to hurt the other person as much as possible. At the end, Argent clapped her hands and grinned wickedly at Markus.
“Well then, are you ready to fight me and get that jewel?”
“No,” said the boy truthfully, but she just laughed and grabbed his arm.
“Come on!”
A small audience had gathered in the tavern, apparently interest to see their swordsman - or swordswoman, as Argent had corrected Markus at some point - fight an unknown newcomer, using methods they’d both only just learned. The blonde boy chewed his lower lip anxiously, and jumped as Zariya came up behind him to say, “Boo!”
“Don’t do that,” he protested. Laughing, Zariya hugged him around the neck from behind and rested her chin on the top of his head to watch Argent chatting excitedly with the barman.
“She’s fairer than I thought she would be. Usually these types are so far up their own butts they can see out their own mouths.”
Markus laughed. “She’s a bit strange, really.”
“Oh well, she’ll fit right in with our lot, then.”
“What do you mean?”
Zariya shrugged. “Well, since we’re going to be hiring people to help that demon hunter guy, why not ask her? I’ve been talking to some of the people in the village about her. Their stories were probably hugely exaggerated, but even if you add the pinch of salt they’re reasonable impressive.”
“Oh?” said Markus, interested. “What did they say?”
“Oh, a whole load of stuff. She wasn’t born here… her father was also some kind of big legendary guy. They all said stuff about how she’s fought and defeated gods and all kinds of weird things. Apparently she spent loads of time travelling with the demi-god of Mischief or something.”
“Wow,” said Markus. “So they have gods and things here?”
“Weird, isn’t it? Pretty cool, though. In your world there doesn’t seem to be much of that.”
“Zariya?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you from Earth?”
“Haha, ask it bluntly, why don’t you? No, I’m not. My world doesn’t really have a name - it’s just called the World. Werewolves are pretty common there, we’re pretty much on the same level as humans. It’s just… something you’re born with.”
“Oh. So… not like this world, then? Do they have werewolves here?”
“I think they do… apparently one of Argent’s friends is one. Or was one, depending on whether or not she’s still alive.”
Argent seemed to hear this, and came over, smiling. “Her name is Holly and she’s still alive,” she assured them. “You’ve been asking about me? I’m a little flattered but mostly disturbed.”
Zariya laughed. “Don’t be. I don’t suppose you’re up for hire as a mercenary at all?”
The girl grinned. “Depends how he does in the fight.” She nodded at Markus. “Anyway, are you ready?”
He sighed, and stood up. “As I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
“Good! Come on, let’s get brawling!”

The first thing that happened to Markus was that his legs were kicked from underneath him and he ended up on the floor. Once he got up, Argent continued to strategically demolish him until he finally landed in a tangle on the ground, winded, and didn’t even bother getting up. The small crowd cheered and laughed as Argent, grinning, offered him a hand.
“Not bad, actually, you laid a couple of good blows,” she told him, pushing him onto a chair. “Are you okay?”
He ached all over, but he wasn’t telling her that. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Good, glad to hear it.”
“So… I’m guessing I don’t get the jewel, then.”
“Don’t be stupid, mate, it’s my turn now!” exclaimed Zariya fiercely, pushing up the sleeves of her blouse, but Argent just laughed again and pulled the jewel out of her belt pouch.
“Well, I was never actually expecting you to win, if I’m honest, although that’s not any reflection on you. My entire life is basically dedicated to fighting, whereas you have other things to do. So here, have this.” She pushed it into his hands. “Because you had the courage to fight me

Lissy, Hadrian and Crispin got the first portal on the right. The door had lots of fancy little metal embellishments, which they completely ignored as they went through.
“Hey,” Lissy exclaimed on the other side, looking down at herself. “My clothes have changed!” Instead of the skirt and T-shirt she had been wearing before, she now sported a calf-length pale yellow dress and brown leather ankle boots. Crispin’s white lab coat had turned into a long wool cloak - brown instead of white - and underneath he wore a waistcoat. Hadrian’s suit hard barely changed, apart from the addition of a short silk cape about his shoulders.
“Fascinating,” he said, plucking at it in an interested way. “Clearly the portal has some kind of magic to ensure that we fit in amongst the populace and don’t stick out like sore thumbs.”
Crispin swirled his cloak sadly. “I miss my coat already.”
“I’m sure you’ll get it back.” Spotting a sheet of paper nailed to a nearby wall, Hadrian pulled it off and began to read. “It’s addressed to us, what fun.”
“What’s it say, what’s it say?” Lissy asked excitedly, jumping up and down.
“It’s titled ‘The Jewel of Comrades’,” Hadrian said. “‘The Jewel of Comrades is a bit of a strange case. Rather than existing in a set location and being owned by a single person or institution, this Jewel appears and disappears with alarming regularity. Luckily for you, the magic of this portal is designed to relocate you to wherever the Jewel is, thus removing the most difficult part of retrieving it. The magic also ensures that, once you pass through the portal carrying the jewel, it will no longer be able to change location by itself.’”
“Is it all like that?” demanded Crispin. “Isn’t there anything about where this Jewel actually is?”
Hadrian glanced down at the rest of the sheet of paper. “There’s a pirate ship nearby. It’s above the crows nest, hidden at the tip of the flag pole on the mast.”
“We have to go onto a pirate ship?” Crispin said, blinking. “That sounds… dangerous.”
“It does, rather,” Hadrian said doubtfully. “But we’d better get it done quickly, or the jewel might move somewhere else.” He held out his hand to Lissy. “Stick close to me, little one, okay?”

The port town they found themselves in was quite small, with only one ship in the harbour. Sure enough this ship was flying the skull and crossbones flag openly and quite proudly; clearly there was little policing going on. The townspeople also seemed quite calm, as though they often had pirate ships coming in to dock.
“Fascinating!” Hadrian said for what seemed to be about the fiftieth time. “It’s a caravel - the ship, I mean. Easy to sail with only a few people. Perhaps the pirates are lacking crew members?”
“Aww, pirates with no friends,” said Crispin. “That’s quite sad. You always picture pirates surrounded by lots of friends getting pissed in bars, don’t you?”
“No mention of pillaging and plundering, I notice.”
“Isn’t that Vikings?”
“I thought it was both.” Hadrian peered in the window of a building as they passed. “This must be the inn. There aren’t very many people in it.”
“So we have to go all the way up there?” Lissy was peering up at the mast of the ship. “It’s… up high.”
“Don’t you like heights, Lissy?” the vampire asked anxiously. The little girl hunched her shoulders.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been up that high.”
“Hmm. Well, maybe you can stay on the ground with Crispin.”
“Who says Crispin is staying on the ground?” the scientist snapped, annoyed. “Crispin likes heights, thank you very much. He was going to pretend he was King Kong while he was climbing the mast.”
“Well, that’s very normal, isn’t it? You’re staying on the ground with Lissy if that’s what I tell you to do!”
“Who put you in charge of this group? Just because you’re a big strong vampire you think you can throw your weight around and be in charge of everything!”
“Will you shut your big fat mouth!” hissed Hadrian, glancing around fearfully. “Vampires are probably not well-liked here, and possibly don’t even exist! Discussing them at the top of your voice is not a good plan!”
“Well then stop trying to boss me around! I’ll do whatever I want, I’m a big boy now, I can look after mys-”
“Hey, hey, calm down now, everyone!” a cheerful voice said from the door of the inn. The two men whirled to face the door, just as a girl appeared, grinning. She was quite short, and had hair the colour of wheat which stuck out from a turquoise bandanna. Her eyes were wide and a deep blue-green. “This is no place for fighting, honestly,” she scolded them lightly. “Honestly, you’re as bad as my friends.” She smiled down at Lissy. “Are they annoying you?” The little girl nodded, and ran to her. Laughing, the older girl went down on one knee to hug her.
“Sorry, who are you?” Crispin said, although he had relaxed a little. The girl grinned at him.
“Oh, sorry, haven’t I said? No, wait, I guess I probably haven’t, since I’ve only said a few sentences to you. I’m Audax, it’s great to meet you all!”
“I’m Lissy,” the little girl told her. “And that’s Mr Hadrian and Crispin.”
Audax glanced from Crispin to Hadrian, and smirked. “I think I can guess which is which. You’re not from around here?”
“No,” Hadrian said guardedly.
“That’s fair, neither am I, nor my friends. I guess it’s only the townspeople who are from around here, haha.” She stood up and tucked a strand of hair back under her bandanna. Hadrian noticed with slight confusion that hair only seemed to poke out from under the bandanna on one side.
“Are your friends in the inn?” Crispin asked. She nodded.
“I noticed you were looking at that ship? The one flying the skull and crossbones?”
Lissy nodded. “We were! It’s a nice ship.”
Grinning, the girl nodded. “It is a nice ship. Look, you can see on the hull it says its name - the Courageous Companion. That’s a great name for a ship, don’t you think? All anyone ever really wants from a ship is for it to be friendly and brave.”
“Can ships be friendly and brave?” asked Lissy with some doubt. Audax laughed.
“Of course they can! Wouldn’t you call a small ship sailing through a storm brave?”
“Actually, I’d call it pretty stupid,” said a black-haired boy who’d just come to the door as well. “Audax, do you really have to speak to everyone you come across?”
“Nothing wrong with being friendly, Jas,” said a blonde boy, who was hot on his heels. Hadrian blinked, and narrowed his eyes at him; the boy, noticing him, returned the look with similar intensity. Audax looked from one to the other.
“I hate to interrupt your staring match, but - “
“He’s a vampire,” the blonde boy told her quietly, and Hadrian inhaled sharply, turning his gaze to the girl. She blinked, then grinned.
“Hey! Really? I thought you were just weird. But hey, a vampire… that explains things.”
“Like what things? What things does it explain?” Hadrian demanded.
“Paranoid,” muttered Crispin.
“You give off vampire vibes,” Audax said. “Don’t worry about it, I’m just weird like that.” Grinning, she tapped her head. “Anyway, these are the friends I mentioned who are always arguing - Jasper, the inky one, and Eamonn, the blonde. Say hi, mates.”
“Hey, hey,” murmured Jasper. “If we’re all done, I’m going back to where I left my dinner. I wasn’t finished it and someone’s probably stolen it by now.” He disappeared back into the inn. Eamonn made a face and came forward to stand next to Audax.
“Don’t worry about him, he’s pretty grumpy,” he said. “Especially involving food. And vampires.”
“Although he’s gotten a lot better with that,” said Audax with a nod. “Long story, you really don’t need to know.”
“You’re a vampire, though,” Hadrian said to Eamonn bluntly. The boy nodded.
“You could say I’m a special case, as far as he’s concerned. Not that he likes me, but that’s… complicated.” He glanced at Audax. “I think he likes me more than many vampires. We’ve known each other long enough now to be over the awkwardness, at least.”
“Translation: no-one expects them to speak to each other,” muttered Audax. She clapped her hands suddenly and smiled brightly again. “But enough of our problems! What about you?”
“Us?” Crispin said, caught off-guard. The girl nodded.
“Of course! Everyone’s got problems, you must have yours. You were arguing, anyway.” She focused intently on the scientist. “Do you not like vampires either?”
“I have nothing in particular against them, no! He’s just a bossy-boots!” he exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Hadrian, who rolled his eyes.
“We’re looking for a jewel,” he told her quietly. The two leaned in, apparently interested. “The problem is, it’s on that pirate ship, and, well…” He gestured to Lissy. “Might get hurt, you know? Not really an option, that.”
Audax nodded solemnly. Eamonn blinked at her. “But-”
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” she interrupted. “Tell me about this jewel, though, it sounds interesting. Did the pirates steal it, or what?”
“It’s called the Jewel of Comrades. I don’t think they stole it, it just… appears,” Hadrian said. “I’m not sure I should be telling you, this, though.”
“We might be able to help you, though.”
“Really?”
“Of course.” She winked mischievously. “You see, the ship is ours.”

“This is the first time I’ve ever been on a pirate ship!” Lissy said excitedly as Hadrian helped her to climb the rope ladder.
“Me too, isn’t it exciting?” he replied with a smile. “You’d better remember this, it’s not everyday you get to do something like this.”
“It’s in the crows nest, you say?” Audax called down to them. She had already climbed nimbly up into the rigging, on her way to the top of the mast.
“Hidden on top of the mast, I think it said.”
“Complicated place to put it… to think, we didn’t even know it was there! Some pirates we are, haha!”
“We’re pretty awful pirates anyway, Dax, we’re lost most of the time and you rescue basically anyone you ever find who needs help,” said Eamonn. “Not that it’s a bad thing, of course, but still.”
“Pirates, treasure-hunters, attention-seekers… it’s all the same! It’s an expression of freedom more than anything else!” Audax had reached the crows nest and was just shinning up the flagpole. “I see no jewels - oh, wait, here we go! Well, who’d have thought that.”
“Is it shiny?” Lissy called happily from below. “I like shiny things.”
“It’s pretty and shiny, yeah! Like diamonds, or cut glass, or something. What does it have to do with comrades, Mr Hadrian?”
“Um - just Hadrian, please - I think it said on the sheet that it appears where there are good comrades.”
“Aww,” said Audax fondly. “Makes me so proud.” She made her way back down and hopped down onto the deck. Hadrian received the Jewel of Comrades gratefully.
“Thank you so much, Audax!” Lissy hugged her around the waist. “We thought it was going to be much harder than that.”
“Oh, all depends on who you know, I guess,” grinned the pirate girl. “Why do you need it, anyway?”
“Long story,” said Crispin dryly. “You have no idea. It’s like… the long story of long stories.”
She laughed. “I’m sure we could compete… we’ve got some pretty long stories.”
“Oh, we have stories,” agreed Eamonn. “Some are actually quite interesting, others involve Jasper and are therefore mostly uninteresting and made up of arguments.”
“I know someone like that,” Hadrian said gloomily.
“So do I,” said Crispin. “He’s called Hadrian. But only when you’re around Zar, to be fair.”
“See! It’s her!”
“You’re not going to start arguing again, are you? Is the crystal going to be used for good or evil?” demanded Audax.
“We’re going to use it to help stop a demon who is being mean!” said Lissy. Eamonn blinked, and groaned.
“Demons… oh, you poor people.”
“You have some experience of demons?” Hadrian asked him, surprised. The boy nodded.
“My, uh… my brother ran off with a demon.”
“Ran off? Like… eloped?”
“Not quite, but along those lines, yes. It was not good.”
“Eamonn still hasn’t forgiven him,” said Audax, patting him on the head. “You need some help with that?”
“Getting rid of the demon?”
“Yeah. ‘Cos I’m sure I could oblige. None of us, but I have contacts, and a friend of mine has been looking for work.”
“Well, I suppose I can’t refuse an offer of help,” Hadrian said with a smile. “We’ll get back to you.”

As promised, the crystal didn’t disappear once they’d gone through the portal.

The waiting was painful.
The Vauns spent a sleepless night, and in the morning Markus was called away to be questioned by the police. He went reluctantly, but with an air of resignation.
Tracy answered the door a little later to greet the three teachers on the doorstep. “Darcie’s in her shed, Markus is out. Do you want some tea?”
“Don’t worry, I’m back from my shed, I’ll make it,” the nanny called from the kitchen, and they settled down to wait some more.
The demon hunter eventually arrived at a little past noon, looking decidedly worse for wear. His hat had a large chunk missing from the brim, and something had torn apart some of the seams on his jacket. Limping into the room, he seized Darcie’s cup of tea and swigged it down.
“Aaah,” he exclaimed, apparently satisfied. “Much better.”
After an awkward silence, Tracy asked, “Did you get rid of the demon?”
He pursed his lips. “Well, I tried, but there was a slight problem.” He neatly hooked Crispin’s teacup away and drank the contents of that as well. “She’s managed to get herself some… minions. Quite a lot of minions, in fact. In the hundreds, I’d imagine.” He stared hard at Zariya’s tea. The werewolf rolled her eyes and passed it to him.
“Hundreds of minions?” repeated Tracy weakly.
“I’m guessing this means you didn’t complete your task,” Hadrian said dryly. Noticing the demon hunter’s eyes on his cup of tea, he drank it quickly and replaced his cup triumphantly. Myles gave him a baleful look.
“No, I didn’t,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t complete it. It just means I can’t complete it alone.”
“That means you can’t complete it, moron,” muttered Crispin, clearly annoyed at losing his tea. The demon hunter glared at him.
“No, it doesn’t. There’s a simple solution to all this. Hire me some sidekicks.”
“It was enough trouble hiring you!” said Tracy angrily. “And you’ve hardly been worth it so far!”
By way of reply, he stole her tea. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to be coming up against flaming hordes,” he said. “You want a bulldozer, not a hunter.”
“So what, you want your own army?” Hadrian said, scowling.
“Not my own army. I just want some people to help me out a little. Mercenaries, I guess - other demon hunters would be good, but I doubt we’d get along. Just three would do.”
“Three? That means three more of those stupid crystals we have to get!”
Darcie sighed. “I suppose what we have to discuss here is whether or not it’s really worth it,” she said.
“Well, it’s… worth it,” said Tracy uncertainly. “I mean, we need to get rid of Tiar, don’t we?”
“So surely you should spare no expense?” cut in Granger, smirking.
“But that’s at least three more jewels,” Tracy went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “Can we really do that? Will Mr Pith know of three more jewels for us to get?”
Zariya stood up. “Well. Only one way to answer that question, isn’t there?”

“Of course, of course, I would be thrilled to offer you an opportunity to get three more crystals!” beamed Mr Pith, back at the agency once more. “Of course, it would be far more economical for you to all go at the same time to get the different ones - and since you can’t have more than three in a group, it all works out!”
Darcie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Right, that’s fine. Three groups… we should have one of you Vauns in each group, and then two of us in one group and one with the other two.”
Markus, who they’d picked up from the police station on the way there, sighed. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“It might not be a good idea, but it’s the best one we have,” Tracy said firmly. “We’ll do it. Lissy, you can go in the group with two people, okay?”
The little girl immediately attached herself to Hadrian’s arm and gave them vampire a winning smile. “I’ll go with her,” he said, relenting easily. “Crispin, you too.”
“I guess that’s fair,” Zariya said grudgingly. “You’ll probably be able to look after both of them.”
“I do not need to be looked after,” muttered Crispin.
“I’ll go with Markus,” offered Zariya. “Trace and Darcie should be alright together, won’t you?”
“We’ll be fine,” said Darcie. Tracy squeezed her brother’s shoulder.
“You alright going with her, Mark?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Good good.” Tracy smiled at the others. “We all ready to go, then?”
“I suppose we are,” said Hadrian with a small smile in return, Lissy clinging happily onto his arm.
Mr Pith held up another of the small shiny things between finger and thumb; Tracy finally worked out that they were strange coins, with a triangular design on them. “Got three of these, when you’re ready to go.”
“Please can we have the portals on the ground for once?” Zariya made puppy-dog eyes at Mr Pith. Of course, she was very good at them. The man sighed.
“You ask so much, but I suppose it won’t hurt to have them on the ground just this once.” One by one, he tossed the coins in front of the desk. Three separate doors popped into existence, and the man sat back, smiling in a self-satisfied manner. “They’re all yours.”

The feeling of stepping though glass was strange, but not unpleasant. It was cold and smooth, and her skin tingled as it passed. Inside, the sounds from outside were completely cut off. Turning to face the others, Tracy said, “Now what?” more as a test than anything else. Her voice echoed back loudly enough to her own ears, but outside Darcie pointed to her ears and shrugged - clearly enough sign language for ‘I can’t hear you’. Markus, who had apparently regained some of his sense of humour, began miming a glass box around him.
Sighing, Tracy turned back to the jewel. It was resting on a glass pedestal, the smooth, mirror-like surface facing towards her. She was about to reach out and just take it with both hands when a strangely familiar voice said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” She stopped and whirled around, trying to locate the speaker. She saw no-one except Darcie and Markus outside. There was a sigh. “Sometimes I despair, I really do,” the voice said. “Look in the crystal.” With some trepidation, Tracy peered into the smooth surface. Her reflection looked back at her with a pitying expression. “There we go, now, wasn’t that easy?”
“You can speak?”
“Of course I can. You can, can’t you? I can do anything you can do.”
“Why did you say I shouldn’t take the crystal?” Tracy asked. The reflection rolled its eyes.
“Because it’s booby-trapped, you nit. Don’t you ever watch that type of movie? Grand heist things?”
“I wasn’t aware this was a heist.”
“Well, it is. And the crystal is booby-trapped.”
Tracy said uncertainly, “I thought this crystal was meant to reflect my true self.”
“It is. Don’t ask stupid questions - and what are you doing believing that, anyway? Mr Pith told you that. He takes the pith.”
Agreeing silently, the blonde girl examined the glass pedestal. “So how do I break the booby-trap? Or prevent tripping it, or whatever?”
“You think I’m just going to tell you?”
“You’re my reflection. Don’t we have the same objectives in mind? I’d help you. Help me help you, by you helping me, because it’s the same thing and we’re both the same person anyway.”
There was a long silence. “That was a terrible explanation,” Tracy’s reflection said gravely. “But I’ll tell you anyway, because wherever you’re going to take this jewel, it’s probably more interesting than here.”
Tracy frowned. “Why does that worry you?”
“Because I’m stuck in here.” Her reflection smiled, a little sadly. “This jewel is a grimmer thing than Mr Pith would have you know. It’s not so much that it reflects the true personality of the person who looks into it… it’s more that it contains a fragment of everyone alive. When you look into it you see that essence of yourself as a reflection.” It grinned. “Very sinister, no? Could cause lots and lots of problems.”
Tracy chewed her lip, wondering if it was really a good idea to be giving such a thing to Mr Pith. On the other hands, if she didn’t get it, Tiar would be free to do whatever she wished to the world. “How do I bypass the booby-trap?”Her reflection shrugged. “Don’t drop the crystal.”
“That’s all? I thought it was something… complicated.”
“No, I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing.” Her reflection nodded. “Right then. Pick up the crystal and go. Simple as that. Good luck, Tracy - with whatever it is you need to do.”
As Tracy stepped out of the glass cube, Darcie asked, “What took you?”
“Oh… I, er… just thought it might be booby-trapped,” said Tracy. For some reason she didn’t want to say anything about her conversation with her reflection. It didn’t seem the type of thing people would really share.

“That took you long enough!” Mr Pith snapped from the ground as Darcie, Tracy and Markus exited the portal.
“You should have done it, then,” Darcie said shortly, climbing down the furniture steps.
“Tracy!” Lissy ran up to hug her, then Markus. “I was a big girl while you were gone! I drew a pretty picture, too!”
“She did, it’s a very pretty picture,” Hadrian said, with more warmth than was customary for him. Zariya grinned mischievously.
“Watch out, I think the vamp’s getting broody or something,” she whispered in her ear, and the nanny laughed.
Mr Pith held his hands out for the crystal. “Thank you very much for getting the Jewel of Mirrors, I’m very grateful, blah de blah de blah. Can I have it now?”
Tracy hesitated. “What are you going to do with it?”
“I’m going to sell it back to the agency and get lots of money,” grinned the little man. “They’re looking for these. The finder’s fee is enough to pay to hire your hunter, and have a whole lot left over. It’s a win-win situation.”
“And what will the agency do with it?” persisted Tracy. Mr Pith shook his head impatiently.
“I don’t know! Probably put it in their little vault thing, or haggle with someone, or something… it hardly matters! Just give it here. You have a time limit - if I don’t get the crystal in the next thirty seconds it’ll be null and void and you’ll have to get me another one to pay for that demon hunter.”
“Tracy, just give it to him,” said Markus warningly. “Once was bad enough.”
She relented, and placed the shining object in the little man’s eager arms. He cooed over it as if it were a baby, and scuttled out of the room.
“Come, come, come and wait in front of the desk,” he called to them. Crispin, who was closest to the door, saw him disappear into the room through the door behind the desk, clutching his treasure.
“Are you all okay?” Zariya asked Tracy. She nodded.
“There were some weird things in that place.”
The werewolf smiled, a little bleakly. “I’m not surprised. You don’t understand what that world was, do you?”
“Of course she doesn’t,” Crispin said, going out the door.
“Leave it that way,” Hadrian said gravely, following him. Tracy looked between them all, confused. Darcie patted her on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it, Trace. Come on, let’s go get that hunter.”

Mr Pith soon returned to sit behind the desk and tap away busily on the computer, murmuring to himself. At last he looked up brightly and grinned, more cheerful than any of the group had ever seen him.
“Wonderful! Here we go, a demon hunter of the highest quality, to suit all needs and going to the highest bidder. Very mercenary - a sign of a good businessman, methinks. Oh well, we’re the highest bidder, so he’ll be arriving by portal any moment now.”
“That was fast,” said Tracy, surprised, and Mr Pith waved his hand.
“Oh, when you give us good service, such as retrieving famous, priceless jewels for us, we give good service in return - fast, quality service! Everyone’s happy, everyone’s having fun, let’s throw a party! But a professional one, with good quality drinks and trained bouncers.”
Tracy and Markus exchanged glances as they settled back to wait for the demon hunter to arrive.
The entrance he made was dramatic, but through the front doors of the agency as if he’d walked, or caught a bus. The doors were flung violently open, and in he strode: Myles Granger, demon hunter extraordinaire, if his profile on the computer database was to be believed. He was a tall, well-muscled man, with curly brown hair of medium length; he wore a long brown leather jacket, and a battered hat with a wide brim that put his eyes in shadow.
He was, however, proof that first impressions weren’t always reliable. Following this dramatic entrance, he glanced around a little self-consciously and strolled over to lean on the desk.
“Pithy. Hey. How’re you doing. Don’t answer, actually, I don’t care. What’s the job?”
Mr Pith’s lips curled, but he didn’t react to being called ‘Pithy’ as Tracy was expecting him to. “Ah, Myles, how nice to see you again. Your hat is as oppressive as ever, and your company just as… charming.”
“Glad to hear it. Job?”
Mr Pith motioned to the people around him; the hunter blinked at them in surprise, as if they’d just appeared magically before him.
“These are your customers,” said Mr Pith. “Try not to make them hate your guts, will you?”
“I thought you said he was of the highest quality,” Darcie said to the small man. He shrugged.
“He’s good at his job, I’ll give him that. It’s just that his people skills could be equated to those of a very unsociable crocodile. Or perhaps an amoeba. Or a small ape who’d never known any other apes.”
“I think I preferred the crocodile,” remarked Granger, lighting a cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke into the air. “What exactly is it I’m needing to do?”
“There’s a demon,” said Markus flatly. “You’re meant to be hunting her.”
“Oh, really? I wondered why I was here. Who is she, where is she, why?”
“She’s called Tiar, I dunno where she is, and because she killed people.”
“That’s normal,” said the demon hunter dismissively, standing up. “Ah well, I’ll do my best. I’ll see you later, then.” Without further ado, he stalked out.

Just as the group were about to leave, Mr Pith called them back. “One more thing… I forgot, I needed to speak to you about something.” When they came back, he motioned for them to sit down, and smiled at Darcie, then at Tracy, Markus and Lissy. “Well then. Isn’t this cosy.”
There was an awkward silence, then Tracy said, “What did you call us back for?”
“Just a simple little matter… of payment.”
“Payment?” Markus said in mild alarm. “What for? We got your jewel for you!”
Mr Pith waved this away. “Not for him, silly boy, for her.” He nodded at Darcie, who blinked. “Her free trial period is up now; if you want to keep her on, she’s going to cost you.”
“How much?” Tracy asked. “Do I dare ask?”
Mr Pith smirked. “Probably not. Tell you what… you can get me another jewel.”
Darcie said over the groaning of those who’d have to pay, “How’s your hair loss going, Mr Pith?”
The man’s face turned black as thunder, and one hand went up to his bald patch. “I think you can see that,” he said coldly. Darcie smiled.
“I have something you might like,” she said, pulling a bottle from her pocket and waggling it teasingly. Mr Pith’s eyes followed it.
“What’s that?” he asked curiously.
“This is my own special brand of extra-special growth formula,” said Darcie. “Guaranteed to make hair grow like you’re twenty years old again. Uh uh uh!” she added, as Mr Pith made a grab for it. “This stuff is hard to make… a little bottle like this takes five years to make.”
“What do you want for it, then?” snapped Mr Pith. Darcie leaned towards him.
“I want to work for these people,” she said. “For free.”
“Are you insane?”
“Five years, Mr Pith. Five years hard work. Five more years before that, perfecting the formula and finding the right plants…”
“Fine!” he said desperately, holding out his hands. “Two months!”
“Three,” said Darcie quickly.
“Two and a half?”
“Two and three quarters.”
“Done.” Mr Pith hid the bottle in his jacket and turned back to the computer. “Right. You’re done. That’s it. Goodbye. Get out of my face.”
“Very friendly,” remarked Tracy under her breath. Darcie grinned.

“You can tell this place is out of the ordinary,” remarked Hadrian, balancing a smaller table on top of a bigger one. “In a normal place they’d just turn you away, or repossess your house or something. Here they send you to look for famous jewels.”
“It can’t be that famous,” said Zariya, handing him up a chair to put on top of the smaller table. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“As if that means anything,” the vampire retorted at once. “It just betrays your shameful lack of knowledge.”
“Do you two ever stop sniping at each other?” Tracy asked, watching them.
“Nope, not even when we’re building towers out of furniture.” Hadrian wobbled the chair to see if it was stable, then jumped down. “Right, all done.”
“Why are you stacking furniture again?” Tracy asked, peering up at the chair.
“‘Cos Mr Pith is going to make a portal and it’s going to appear up high, right there, and we don’t have a ladder, “said Zariya. “He likes to make things as difficult as possible.”
“News flash!” Crispin called, pirouetting in through the door. They were in a small room next to the main reception, where Mr Pith had banished them so that they wouldn’t ’scare the customers’. “Mr Pith says that only three of you can go through the portal.”
“What? Why?” Darcie said, blinking. She was sitting on the only chair in the room, also watching Hadrian and Zariya build their furniture tower. Crispin shrugged.
“He probably just wants to make very sure that we’ve all been tortured and terrified,” remarked the werewolf with a sigh.
“That’s not all, either,” Crispin said. “He also said, indirectly and in a very roundabout way, that both Tracy and Markus have to go, and that the only reason Lissy is exempt is because she’s so small. Its something to do with something called the Client Involvement Agreement, or something like that.”
“So we have to go to… wherever it is?” Tracy glanced anxiously at Markus. “We don’t have to go alone, right?”
“No, one of us can come with you, “said Darcie. “I’ll come, unless you’d prefer one of these three.”
Lissy skipped away from Markus and slipped her hand into Hadrian’s; the vampire blinked down at her, perplexed. “Have fun! I’ll stay here with Mr Hadrian,” she told her older siblings brightly. Although she’d bee invited to call the vampire by his first name, she had instead gone though a whole variations upon the theme of ‘Mr de Mellios’, including versions such as ‘Mr Dee-Em’, ‘Mr Melly’ and ‘Mr DeMe’, before finally ending up at ‘Mr Hadrian’.
“You don’t mind us leaving, do you?” Tracy asked her, and she shook her head, beaming.
“I’m a big girl, I can be left on my own. And anyway, I’m not on my own, and we’re in here, so nothing can happen.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
Mr Pith waddled in now, glaring around at them. “Well, are you ready? Come on, it’s not like you’ll be long or anything.”
“Why don’t you go and get it, then?”
“Because I’m old and short,” he snapped. “Do you want that hunter or not?”
“Come on,” said Darcie gently, climbing up onto the table. “Go ahead and open it, Mr Pith.”
Still grumbling, the man took something small and shiny from his pocket and threw it into the air above the furniture tower. It seemed to stick in the air for a moment, glinting and spinning, before it disappeared with a ‘pop’ and in its place there appeared a circular wooden door, glowing at the edges. Darcie climbed up onto the second table and then onto the chair and opened the door. Stepping through, she beckoned to Tracy and Markus.
“Come,” she said. “It’ll be better to get it over and done with quickly.”

Tracy and Markus, on stepping through the mysterious round door, found themselves in a hall of mirrors. On either side they saw themselves and Darcie reflected into infinity, millions of Markuses and Tracies and Darcies, all getting smaller and further away. Ignoring this, Darcie strode along the corridor, but paused and looked back when she noticed they weren’t following her.
“What’s up? Aren’t you coming?”
Tracy blinked, still staring around. “I - I - yes, it’s just…”
The nanny grinned. “Yeah, I see what you mean. It’s best to just ignore it. Places like this shouldn’t be trusted.”
“What do you mean?” Markus tapped one of the mirrors; it made the comfortingly familiar sound of glass. “It’s just… mirrors.”
“Well, that in itself is a reason enough to not trust it. Mirrors… there’s something strange about them, don’t you think? It’s like staring into space. You’re looking into infinity. Especially with two mirrors facing each other, like here. There’s hundreds of different versions of us shown in the glass. Who can say which one is the real one?”
“That’s stupid, we’re the real ones,” said Markus, but with a trace of uncertainty. “Of course we’re the real ones.”
Darcie smiled. “Keep thinking that. Come on, the faster we do this the sooner we can leave!”
As they went further into the strange place, the number of mirrors increased. The corridor opened out into a room, with more passages leading off to the sides. Darcie seemed to know where she was going, following one of the corridors on the left without hesitation.
The room this passage led to was smaller, but still had more routes leading off it. It was also slightly different, because instead of the walls being made up of many smaller mirrors tiled together, each wall was simply a single smooth reflective surface, which the ceiling and floor were also mirrors. Markus and Tracy found themselves walking gingerly, fearful of cracking the glass beneath their feet.
Their confusion was compounded when they realised that the mirrors didn’t actually reflect them. Although the people in the mirrors moved with them and looked like them, the clothing they wore was different, and, in Tracy’s case, her hairstyle was different - longer, and in two plaits, rather then her loose shoulder-length style.
“What - why are we different?” Markus blurted. Darcie turned to face them again, walking backwards. Her reflection wore a floppy black witch’s hat; whatever was changing the reflection clearly had something approaching a sense of humour.
“Don’t worry about it. These mirrors probably reflect an alternate reality.”
“And you’re telling me not to worry?”
The witch shrugged. “If you’re confident enough in yourself it shouldn’t matter. Just forget about it. You’ll see other stuff like that in here, too. Just ignore it. Focus on who you are, here and now.”
“That may not be as easy as it sounds,” protested Tracy weakly, but Markus grabbed her wrist and dragged her after Darcie, through more passages.

In the passages, in various mirrors, they saw all kinds of different things. Some of the mirrors didn’t show Markus, while others didn’t show Tracy or Darcie; in others, other, unfamiliar people appeared, walking alongside them as if they’d known them all their lives. In one Tracy and Markus were grown-ups, and Darcie was probably approaching middle-age. Some mirrors made them younger, taller, fatter, and at some point Tracy realised that she was looking ahead to see how she had changed in the next mirror.
The first shock came in a mirror close to the end of the tunnel. Tracy peeped at it, and found, looking back at her, a grotesque, grey-skinned, wrinkled homunculus of a woman. Taken by surprise, she shrieked and jumped back.
“What is it?” Markus looked in the mirror too. His reflection was slightly younger, but nevertheless looked like a reincarnated corpse. Coming back to see what all the fuss was about, Darcie smiled faintly to see how own reflection.
“Darcie… you haven’t changed.” Tracy stared at her, then at the mirror-image.
“No, I don’t suppose I have.” The witch ran a finger down her cheek thoughtfully. “If that’s a future mirror, then I suppose it’s one I have no part in.”
“But you’re still reflected!”
“I know. I think the only mirrors I’m not reflected in are ones where I’ve already died.” She grinned. “Nice thought, isn’t it? Oh well. We all die at some point or other. Come on.”

They followed the mirrored passages for what felt like years, until at last they ended up in a large room, with no passages leading out of it. In the middle of the room was a large square cube; it was made of mirrors as well, so at first they didn’t realise it was there.
“Here we are. I’m guessing the jewel we need is in there.” Darcie walked up to the cube, and tapped sharply on the glass. For a second the glass misted over, and then it went transparent. Tracy and Markus gasped at the sight of what it contained.
The jewel was bigger than any other they had ever seen; the Crown Jewels were nothing in comparison. It was probably about the size of Tracy’s head, but nevertheless delicately cut, with many glittering facets which made it sparkle like a star. The front of the jewel was the only different part; it was cut as one smooth surface, and reflected like a mirror.
“I suppose it’s part of its magic that it’s still all pretty and sparkly like that,” said Darcie thoughtfully. “Physics and the nature of light and all that sort of thing dictates that it shouldn’t sparkle… it’s all to do with prisms and stuff.”
“Are you going to look into it?” Markus asked Tracy in hushed tones. She shook her head uncertainly.
“I… I want to, but I don’t think I should.”
“In case you don’t like what it shows?”
“I suppose so. What will I do if I don’t like what it shows? How do I change? Is it even possible?”
“Put your hand against the glass,” ordered Darcie. The two looked at her. She sighed, and explained, “It’s a special type of glass. One of us can go through it, but only one of us, and it’s not me.”
“Oh.” Markus hesitantly touched the glass, but his finger met resistance as usual. Tracy groaned.
“It’s me, then.”