Chapters

Chapter 3:
Hunting Trips

Chapter 5: Hell's Loose
Chapter 9: Sadness and the Tropics

Chapter 9:  Sadness and the Tropics

    The hijacked plane continued on its course for the Bahamas, the communist not giving any instruction to the contrary.  Overseer sat in his chair, which was noticeably fat-roll free at the moment.  The young agent of the law still looked as if he would do something soon, though Overseer was getting impatient and bored with the whole affair.  If there was going to be a shooting, he would prefer that it begin soon.  After all, he needed an excuse to turn something--or someone--into a wombat or other furry creature.  Overseer had already decided that it didn't matter if anyone felt the ripples in reality.  After all, the sorcerers' guild would never risk coming out into the open--in public.

    That, and he was an expert at avoiding the guild's agents.  Having been on the run for so long, it was only natural that he'd learn a few tricks and techniques along the way.  He also could safely assume that with the stir his call to Yates had caused, the guild was busy enough trying to track the movements of all the rogue sorcerers in Europe, let alone the two or three that chose to live in America.  Europe had always been the location of choice for sorcerers, as many saw the old Gothic architecture as reminiscent of their childhood.  Overseer had never really liked the Gothic style himself, preferring the newer mansion designs of the late 19th century.  

    Overseer's thoughts on architecture were cut short as the terrorist unexpectedly pointed his gun at him.  A babble of words that Overseer was too bored to listen to washed over him.  From his gestures, it was obvious the commie was threatening to execute him first if whatever demands he happened to have were not met.  Overseer tried to stifle a laugh, but couldn't.  His maniacal laughter echoed throughout the cabin.  The hijacker seemed angered by this display of insolence, and pulled out a knife, holding it to the sorcerer's throat.  This only elicited more laughter from Overseer, causing some of the passengers to decide that he was obviously suicidal.  The other passengers would have thought the same thing, if not for a hidden hint of malice in the sorcerer's laughter.  These slightly more attuned passengers found themselves hoping that the hijacker wouldn't do anything rash, as they felt the danger of what might happen.

    Unfortunately, the hijacker was not so attuned to his senses.  As the nervous young agent prepared to shoot--for he had finally drawn his gun--the communist's knife slashed across Overseer's throat.  Passengers screams of horror turned to those of surprise as the hijacker's own head suddenly fell off.  Overseer chuckled to himself.  He always had so much fun doing a shift in forces, and this had been quite satisfying.  As the terrorist's head rolled down the center aisle the nervous agent accidentally fired.  The bullet sped toward Overseer's head, stopping at the last second to change into a hamster.  The flying hamster landed on Overseer's shoulder, and commenced a whirling display of kung-fu maneuvers.  

    Overseer sighed.  His Familiar could be so melodramatic at times.  The bullet in question had been tossed into the inter-dimensional nothingness where Familiars were kept until needed.  It had been the first thing Overseer could think of, not having much time to react and all.  Annoyed at the young agent, Overseer changed his gun into an iguana and got up to head for the bathroom.  There was still some of the hijacker's blood on his robes, and he wanted to at least give cleaning them a shot.  He liked those robes, and while the idea of blood soaked clothing did appeal to him, he knew that it always just got sticky by the end of the day.
    Exiting the bathroom, he was confronted with the shocked and frightened stares of the rest of the airplane.  "What?  You act like you've never seen a guy use the bathroom before."

*************

    David made his way out to the garage one last time.  Ruth was with him, and the two of them found Aaron's car waiting for them.  One of the computer technicians walked up and stammered an explanation.

    "You see, um... well, we all know that Aaron was like a brother to you Ruth, and so we all thought that you should have his car.  I know it's hard to let him go, but maybe this will help you remember him a little."

    Ruth smiled, holding back a few tears.  "Thanks guys.  I appreciate it."  She turned to David.  "Well, I guess this is it then.  We're off to the new headquarters."  Suddenly, Ruth realized that she had absolutely no clue where the new headquarters were.  She hadn't gone at all, instead electing to stay and help pack things up.  "Say David... could you perhaps drive?  I'm not exactly sure where we're going."

    David laughed.  "Yeah, I'll drive.  You'll like it there--it's a lot bigger than this place, and the rooms are much more comfortable.  Lots of space to keep everything, you see."

    Ruth nodded.  "Hmm, that'll be nice.  My room was getting a bit cluttered.  'Course, I suppose if I actually cleaned things up once in a while that wouldn't have happened, but you get the idea."

    "Right, I understand perfectly."  David chuckled and opened the passenger door of Aaron's old car.  Walking to the driver's side, he pulled on the handle.  The door didn't budge.  Puzzled, he checked to see if the door was unlocked.  Seeing that it was, he pulled again.  As he was about to give it one last shot, he suddenly remembered Aaron mentioning something about his door. "I assume you'll have to open the driver's door for me.  I remember him telling me you couldn't open it from the outside."

    Ruth nodded.  "That's right."  She leaned over and popped open the door easily.  "Well, I suppose we should get moving."

    David slid into the driver's seat, a little sad to be leaving behind the place where he had gotten started, but happy that they were headed toward safety--for the time being at least.  He still was worried about when the next attack would come, but he had resolved to do his level best to keep the new headquarters a secret--just like their old one should have been.  It still confused David as to how their movements had been tracked so well, but the only explanation seemed to be that there was a spy in the council, and Doc had said that this was highly unlikely.

    "Nonsense David.  These folk wouldn't dare to betray us!  If we are discovered, it is likely that they would be in as much danger as us--more, really as we'd be after them along with our pursuers."  However, Doc's face showed that he was hiding some thought of his that he did not wish to voice.  David had the feeling that Doc had his own suspicions and just wasn't sharing them.

    Ruth looked over at David, noting that he seemed lost in thought about something.  "Hey, what is it?"

    David shook his head a little as Ruth's voice brought him back to the present.  "Hmm?  Oh, just thinking."

    "That was obvious." Ruth chuckled.  "What's bothering you?  You almost look worried."

    David looked at Ruth, debating whether or not to tell her; after all, she could have been the spy.  Finally, he decided that she was trustworthy enough to tell his suspicions to--after all, she was his closest friend, and she had been nearly killed in the attack(definitely not the sort of thing that would happen to an informant).  "Well, I've been thinking how that sorcerer knew where to find us--and how he tracked us so well.  I think we have a mole."

    Ruth's face showed that she was of the same mind.  "Well, I've thought that myself.  After all, for those people to know you were out searching, they'd have to have pretty good intelligence.  It's not like they were just loitering around the search area by accident.  You said yourself they looked as if they had lots of time to set things up.  They would need to know the plan beforehand."

    "Exactly.  A mole's the only way I can think of that happening."  David responded.  "The only question is, who?"

    "I have no idea."  Ruth fell silent, running over the possibilities in her mind.  There was nobody she could think of who seemed capable of such an act.  The two continued on their way to the new headquarters, each deep in their own thought.

*************

    Minneapolis once had a city park, and it now grew wild after the abandonment of the city.  It was here, in a grove of trees, that two figures could be found, holding one another and weeping silently.  A freshly dug grave lay at their feet, and it was obvious that the grave had been dug by those present.  Dirt was still caked on the man's hands, and the woman with him had hands in similar condition.


    Aaron tried to find some way to gather his thoughts, but he couldn't quite manage.  It had been a long and terrible day.  He had carried Lydia back to the van, Jo walking beside him mechanically.  Laying his burden in the back seat, Jo had mentioned that Lydia had always said she wanted to be buried somewhere wild.  The city park had been Jo's idea--Lydia had loved both the wild and the city, and here was a perfect melding of the two.  They had labored long to dig the grave using shovels that had been in the van, and when it was completed, they had slowly lowered Lydia down.  Jo had dressed Lydia's wounds and made her look as presentable as she could.  Along with her body, Jo had lain Lydia's crossbow at her side, and after a few simple words and prayers, they had slowly filled the grave in.  It was the hardest thing that Jo had ever done.  Even now, standing with Aaron and looking down at the grave, she couldn't bring herself to believe that Lydia was really dead.

    Aaron stood, remembering those he had buried before.  A friend of his had died of a rare heart disease when he was only sixteen, and a technician of his who had been shot and killed by a Hunter.  Both times, the loss had wounded  him deeply.  Now, it seemed as if another scar would be added.  He hadn't known Lydia that long, but near the end, they had become friends, helping each other control Jo during her Manifestations.  It had been a life changing experience for her, and Aaron had been glad to help her through it.  

    Jo had buried her mother, but for some reason she felt more pain over losing Lydia.  Perhaps it was the difference in age, as she hadn't really understood what was going on when her mother died.  Now, after spending so much time with Lydia, having her so suddenly and violently snatched away caused a pain Jo hadn't known possible.  There was a part of her that was no longer there, that she couldn't get back.  It was gone, buried in front of her, and she would not see it again until she herself died.  For a long time, the two stood at the grave, both alone with their thoughts.

    It was Aaron who first broke the silence.  "We'd better get moving Jo.  It's getting late."

    Jo's voice was husky with sorrow.  "I can't leave her Aaron.  Not yet.  Wait a little longer, please..."

    Aaron nodded in understanding.  "As long as you need Jo.  Take your time."  He kept speaking, though he didn't know what drove him to it.  "I know it hurts Jo.  It hurts a lot, and you think it won't ever stop.  I guess it never really does.  But somehow I think that the last thing Lydia would want is for you to give up now.  It will take time before you can move on, but Lydia asked me to protect you, and I mean to keep that promise.  I'm going to be here to help you through this."

    Jo looked over at Aaron as he spoke.  A new light seemed to come into her eyes, though there was still sadness present in them as well.  "Thank you, but I'm not sure if there's anything you can do to help."

    "Maybe.  Maybe not.  Regardless, I'm going to be here, just in case you need someone to talk to."  Aaron was trying to figure out just what he was supposed to do at this point.  'Protect Jo' Lydia had said, and while he did indeed want to do so, he wasn't quite sure how to go about doing it.  Actually, he wasn't even sure what the plan was anymore.  It was obvious to him that Jo would want to continue her study of the virus, but he didn't know if she would be able to make any real progress without help.  Again, he thought of returning to headquarters and letting Jo work with Doc, as he was sure the extra help would be appreciated.  Now, however, was not the time to talk of such things.

    It was another hour before Jo could bring herself to move from the grave.  Even then, it was hard to do, leaving her friend behind.  She walked shakily, exhausted by her grief.  Aaron offered his arm as support, but Jo insisted on walking by herself.  The return trip to the apartment was made in silence, only broken by Jo's quiet weeping.  It hurt Aaron to see a friend in such pain, but there was nothing he could say.  No words of his could ease the loss.

    As soon as they entered the apartment, Jo headed to her room and fell asleep, exhausted.  Aaron remained up for a while longer, reliving the moment over and over again in his head; berating himself for not being more cautious.  He should have told Lydia and Jo to go off on their own.  The Hunter had been looking for him, not them.  Now she was dead, dead because he had been stupid enough to think that he could handle the situation without any trouble.  Frustration was etched on his face, anger and guilt fighting an inner battle to see which could make him feel more wretched.  It was a long night.

*************

    Overseer stepped off the plane, breathing in the tropical air.  It was hot, but not uncomfortably so.  It had been a pleasant flight after the incident with the hijacker.  Overseer had gotten his own row, as the rest of the passengers were too frightened of him to risk sitting next to him.  That sort of arrangement suited Overseer just fine.  He would have to remember to use the same tactic on his return flight.  


    It had occurred to Overseer that perhaps someone might have reported the whole incident by now, so he elected to exit the airport as quickly as possible.  This entailed charging through the packed crowds and diving out of the nearby concourse window.  Glass shards littered the pavement as Overseer rolled to a stop and stood, brushing himself off and picking up his carry-on bag that he used to break the window.  Opening it up, he checked that his sword was still safe and walked to the rental car lot.  He would get a nice sports car.  

    The clerk at the rental agency was quite accommodating.  Especially after Overseer chopped the desk in two with his sword and threatened to do the same to the clerk.  Moments later, the sorcerer pulled out of the lot in a rather sharp-looking convertible, complete with six speed manual transmission.  Speeding toward his vacation house, Overseer suddenly sensed that all was not right.  There was another magical user here... one that he couldn't place, and one that was stupid enough to be using powerful majiks openly.  Must have been a guild sorcerer, and one of the higher ups at that.  Overseer made a mental note to be careful and continued to his rented beach house.  

    Rounding a bend, Overseer whistled in appreciation.  That travel agent had been right.  The place was huge.  It looked out of place--architecture harkening back to Gothic days on a resort island is after all an oddity.  Overseer was more of a modern architecture fan himself, but the house did remind him of his youth.  Overseer remembered those days with fondness.  Living as a peasant, hearing stories about the Black Death, it had all been so much fun.  Overseer mostly remembered using his powers to get out of the peasantry and into the running of well funded and shadowy organizations.  In fact, his first base of operations had been in a castle that looked very much like the obviously smaller version that stood before him.  

    Entering the house, the first thing to catch the sorcerer's eye was the fully stocked bar and the massive television.  Overseer smiled.  He was going to enjoy his vacation.  He decided that his first item of business would be to head for the beach--only a mile away.  He'd just walk.  It would be oddly relaxing.

*************

    The travel agency clerk was currently enjoying herself as well.  Overseer had placed her in complete control of the Organization while he was away, and that gave her all the powers that he wielded (except for the sorcerous ones of course).  At the moment, she was doing what any good leader would do--abusing her powers.  


    Dull-witted henchmen waited on her hand and foot, and all of her meals were ordered from the finest restaurant in Minnesota.  The only thing wrong with the job, the clerk decided, was the  parts where she had to do work.  This annoying responsibility now intruded on her private massage.  A simple report detailing the movements of the rogue sorcerers.  Apparently, Overseer had done something to get them to increase their activity.  The clerk wasn't too worried about any of this at all.  After all, she would be paid regardless of the success or failure of Overseer's plans.  

    The only thing of note that crossed the clerk's desk was another report on the movements of the sorcerer's guild.  Apparently, one of the high council was also vacationing in the Bahamas.  Sighing irritably, the clerk picked up the phone to send word to her new boss.  

*************

    "Wow, you weren't kidding."  Ruth couldn't say any more about the new headquarters.  It was immense, an old military base that had been hit hard during the war and abandoned by the government along with the rest of the city.  It seemed like the perfect place to hide out.


    David gestured out of the window.  "See, this is all a bit exposed, but the largest part of the base is underground.  It's like a small city.  The surface structures are still sound, but they haven't decided if they want to risk having people out in the open."

    Ruth nodded.  "Makes sense to me.  After all, I'm sure the government would want to keep tabs on this place, wouldn't they?"

    David shook his head.  "Nope.  In fact, the computer techs have spent the past week hacking the military's surveillance systems just to be sure."

    Ruth was confused.  "Then why would they be worried about us using the surface structures?"

    David pointed to his left.  "Somewhere over there is a Hunter base.  We don't want to attract any more attention than necessary."

    "Why would we set up so close to a Hunter base?  I thought the point was to avoid those things!"  Ruth didn't understand why the leadership would make such a risky decision.

    David shrugged.  "I'm not sure.  I asked Doc about it, but he won't say.  I think we're hoping they won't look so close to their own base.  The only other reason I can think of is that if our base is discovered again, the Hunters will probably get caught too."

    Ruth considered a bit more.  It made a tiny bit of sense, but there was still some other reason that she couldn't quite place.  The answer came to her suddenly.  If Aaron was in Hunter custody (though the chances of him still being alive were slim to none) and escaped, he'd not have far to go--and they'd know if any escape happened from the noise it would surely cause.  So, Doc hadn't given up either, had he?

    David had fallen silent, alone with his thoughts for the moment.  Most of them were full of worry.  He didn't like the new location at all--the proximity to the Hunters made him nervous.  Still, he couldn't fault the reasoning of the leadership.  All Hunter activity seemed concentrated far from their headquarters, almost as if they didn't think lycanthropes would dare to live so close to their base.  In this case, the safest place was right under the noses of the Hunters.  As long as they remained underground, then the chances of detection were minimal.  Some of those who had first scouted the location reported finding tunnels that exited far from the base, and this was in fact how most of the equipment had been brought in.  David had elected to take the top route because of his dislike for tunnels as well as the desire to spend more time talking to Ruth.

    Aaron's car continued to wind its way through the roadways of the base, occasionally swerving to avoid a chunk of debris or a crater.  Though most of the structures were sound, many had been blasted to smithereens.  It was in the skeletal remains of one of these buildings that David stopped the car and hopped out.  Ruth watched him for a moment, wondering just what he was doing, until she noticed him bending over a control panel of sorts that somehow had survived the base's destruction.  David manipulated a few controls and stepped back, satisfied.  Ruth sat and waited patiently, then noticed that the floor was sinking.  David hopped back into the car, closed the door, and the two descended into the darkness.  David flipped on the headlights.

    The floor came to a stop some two hundred feet down.  A tunnel opened up before them, and with a slight grumble from David about tunnels, the car moved forward, it's headlights illuminating the passage before them.  Dust floated through the air as the car made its way through several twists and turns.  

    The inky darkness was rather boring to look out at, so Ruth began to talk, her mind wandering through numerous nooks and crannies of her consciousness.  "It's strange, isn't it?  Moving from the old base, I mean.  I spent all my time there, and now it's time to start over again.  I wonder how many times some of the older ones have gone through this."

    David shrugged.  "I'll bet Doc's done it a ton of times.  He's been around here longer than anyone else I've met.   He seems comfortable with moving, though I'll admit it was hard to leave the old base behind.  It's like leaving your birthplace in an odd sort of way.  I mean, that was where we were trained.  All the experience I have now comes from the old base."

    Ruth nodded.  "Yeah.  I don't like how things have suddenly changed on me.  Losing Aaron, nearly losing you, and now relocating... it's starting to wear on me, you know?"

    "Well, fortunately, you didn't lose me.  And more fortunately, I didn't lose you."  There was a brief pause.  "You mean too much to me for me to lose you now."  David was, if possible, more astounded to hear himself say such a thing than Ruth.  It just seemed to have slipped out, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

    Ruth was silent for a moment.  David had just said exactly what she had been thinking of saying, and to be honest, she was a bit disappointed that she had been beaten to it.  Then again, now it wouldn't seem so odd for her to say it right back to him.  "You know, I'm glad I haven't lost you either.  When that sorcerer attacked, all I could think of was how terrible it would be to lose you.  Guess that made me realize how much you mean to me..."  For some reason, Ruth thought she sounded a bit awkward, and elected to fall silent.  David was both happy to know that his friend cared for him as he did for her, and utterly clueless as how to proceed.  He also elected to remain silent.

    Fortunately for the both of them, their awkward silence didn't last much longer.  A light had began to show itself in the distance, and as it grew, Ruth realized that it was coming from a massive hanger at the end of the tunnel.  As the car exited the tunnel, she was struck by the amount of people bustling about.  There was so much work being done to complete the move, she couldn't even tell what some of the people were doing at all.  Her thoughts on the size of the hanger and number of people working couldn't shake the awkward feeling she had, unfortunately.  

    Thankfully, Doc was there to meet the two.  "Well, I see you made it here all right.  Took the alternate route, I assume?"

    David nodded, glad for the distraction.  "Figured she could get a look at the surface structures.  See if she had an opinion on whether or not we should move some of the base up or not."

    Doc nodded.  "Well, that decision has already been made.  We're not going to risk it.  It's risky enough being this close to the Hunters base now, and I don't like the idea of open fighting on the surface should it come down to it.  After all, I doubt that would go unnoticed by the rest of the world."

    David bobbed his head in agreement.  "Yeah, especially if I changed forms to the sorcerous wolf.  That would attract way too much attention."

    "Indeed it would.  Now, could you two help out a bit with moving everything?" Doc's expression showed that they didn't really have a choice in the matter.

    "Sure!  Glad to!"  David was happy to help, as it would mean getting out of the car and perhaps distracting both him and Ruth so that the both of them could avoid the subject of what they had said in the car.  

    "We'll get right on it!"  Ruth was also quite happy, as she was becoming very confused about her feelings for David.  On the one hand, she hadn't known him for very long, but on the other, he was the one guy she felt close to.  At least she would be distracted for a while, and then she'd think about it all later.  

*************

    Jo awoke, slightly fuzzy on how she had gotten back to the apartment.  It seemed odd to her that she hadn't been woken up by Lydia--but then she remembered everything.  Lydia would never wake her up again, and Jo would never throw random things at her for it anymore.  Lydia was gone, and Jo was reliving each terrible second as her mind slowly worked its way through the events of the past evening.  Oddly enough, Jo hadn't even had time to consider that she had killed a man last night, being too preoccupied with losing her friend.  Now she had the guilt that comes with taking another's life to deal with well as her loss.  The world closed in around her, accusing her of murder.  A part of her kept telling her it was all her fault, that if she hadn't captured Aaron in the first place none of this would have happened.


    Then again, if she had done nothing, she and Lydia would have continued to kill innocent humans.  As painful as losing Lydia was, Jo knew that she had made the correct choice.  Fortunately, she wasn't completely alone either.  Aaron had promised to stay with her while they figured out what to do next.  Jo stood, intending to get up, but a wave of sadness and loneliness hit her.  All mulling over the issue still hadn't served to combat the deep loss she had suffered, as much as she wished it would have.  Jo collapsed back onto her bed, lost for the moment in her own despairing thoughts.  Any happy memories of Lydia were for the moment forgotten, deserting her for the ugly memory of seeing Lydia shot.

    Aaron had managed to fall asleep late into the night, but it had been a restless sleep, filled with the ugly feeling of failure.  He couldn't shake off the feeling that the whole mess was his fault.  He had been the one to suggest traveling as a group, and he had been the one to say that there was no danger from the Hunter.  Though the death did not effect him as deeply as it had Jo, he was perturbed by his failure to save Lydia.    Jo, however, was not used to loss, and Aaron knew that Jo was feeling many times worse than he.  It was for this reason that he decided to get up and check on her to see how she was holding up.  He rose, and deciding that he couldn't stand to wear his dirty kilt anymore, threw on a pair of pants from a previous owner so he could wash it.  Aaron made his way around the hole in the floor to the door of Jo's room where he listened for a moment.  Hearing the sound of muffled weeping from within, he rapped lightly on the door.  "Hey Jo, it's me.  Are you doing all right?"  It was a silly question to ask given the circumstances, but it was all he could think to say at the moment.

    Jo raised her head from her pillow, wiping tears from her eyes as she did so.  "I'm fine, I think."  Actually she was far from anything resembling fine, but she did not want to be a burden to Aaron.  

    Aaron, of course, didn't believe a word of it.  Still, if she wanted to be left alone, then he would leave her alone.  Sometimes it was best to be with one's own thoughts for a while.  He couldn't resist making sure, though.  "Are you sure?  You sound pretty terrible.  But if you don't want to talk about it, then I guess I'll leave you alone."

    Jo suddenly felt alone again, terribly alone.  "No, wait!  You can come in and talk."  Part of her still wanted to be alone, but she felt the need to talk to another human (or the nearest equivalent) more strongly.

    Aaron entered the room a little warily, unable to shake the feeling that somehow he was trespassing.  Jo looked up as he entered, and it was plain to see that she had been crying.  Aaron wasn't sure what to say, considering himself to be lousy at comforting others.  He decided that his best move would be to simply ask the question "How are you feeling?"

    Jo grinned wryly.  "As well as can be expected.  I mean, I'm certainly not feeling all that fantastic, but at least I'm not suicidal."

    Aaron grinned at the small attempt at humor.  It was a good sign that she hadn't given up hope yet.  "Well, that's certainly good to know."  A thought struck him.  "You should get something to eat.  It's nearly mid-afternoon."

    Jo shrugged.  "I guess.  I'm not really all that hungry though.  I've had other things on my mind I suppose."

    Aaron nodded.  "Yeah, I can understand that.  But you should eat something all the same."

    Standing, Jo made her way to the kitchen, Aaron following close behind.  From their slightly depleted supplies, the two managed to make a halfway decent meal.  As the day wore on, Aaron kept up conversation with Jo, doing his best to ease her pain.

*************

    Cloaked figures on beaches tended to draw a lot of attention, Overseer decided.  The nice couple next to him on the beach certainly proved that.  He had been sunning himself (as much as one could with a cloak on) for the past half hour, and the two hadn't stopped looking at him the entire time.  He had half a mind to tell them to mind their own business, and then perhaps turn them into newts, but he did need to lay low for the moment.  Then again, he wouldn't have much luck laying low if all of these people kept looking at him.  He would have to change into more "native" attire in order to get some peace.  The only problem was, he didn't have any native attire.  Suppressing a shudder, Overseer realized that he'd have to go shopping.  In a mall setting, most likely.  With lots of other people.  Worst of all, he wouldn't be able to use majik at all.  


    Steeling himself against the inevitable, Overseer rose, grabbing his towel from the sand and shook it out.  Much to his delight, the sand blew into the young couple's eyes.  Chuckling with glee, Overseer began the short trek back to his house.  He soon discovered just how much sand could get into his cloak.  It was a surprising amount.  As he walked through the gate, Overseer suddenly sensed that he was most certainly not alone.  Another cloaked form stood at the door, waiting for him.  Something about the form was slightly familiar, bringing a feeling of disgust and annoyance that he couldn't place.

    The hood fell back, revealing what could only be described as a gorgeous young woman.  Overseer's face remained hidden, though it was obvious that he was annoyed.  He did not need her showing up on his doorstep.  Not when his plans were in motion--but that was probably why she was there in the first place.  Grumbling, he arranged his features into something resembling a friendly greeting.  Unfortunately, his spoken greeting was a far from friendly "What are you doing here?"  

    "Come now Overseer, is that any way to greet someone?  You really must learn manners.  How about a proper greeting for your old wife?"  The Mistress Overseer inquired sweetly.

    Overseer crossed his arms.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  Where are my manners?"  Clearing his throat, he gave the proper greeting.  "Go to hell."

    His wife ignored him.  The Mistress Overseer had married the sorcerer about one hundred years previously, and had promptly divorced him 5 years later.  His overall bad mood (and the fact that she couldn't manage to control him) had been enough after five years.  Since then, she had been kind enough to stay out of Overseer's way, only showing up whenever he had something particularly good in the works.  In this case, she had caught wind of a plot to kill the rouge sorcerers, and after learning the source--immediately set out to find him.  Mistress wasn't an idiot, after all.  She knew that Overseer wasn't in the business of telling the truth.

    Overseer, for his part, remained wary.  Granted, he may have hated her with a fiery passion only surpassed by his hatred for gum on the sidewalk, but she also hadn't revealed his location to the sorcerer's guild despite being a member.  Then again, it was the threat of their mutually assured destruction (Overseer happened to know all of the violations of the rules she was responsible for) that kept her from telling.  Overseer was sure that as soon as she got the chance she'd have the guild breathing down his neck.  It would not do to anger her.  With a mental shrug, Overseer resigned himself to the inevitable.  "Well, if you're not going to go to hell like I asked, I suppose that you may as well come inside."

    "That's more like it darling."  The Mistress Overseer (her real name was Jane, but she liked the title Overseer as much as Overseer did) said with a simpering smile.  "We have much to discuss, you and I."

    Overseer resisted the urge to attempt to change his ex-wife into a cabbage and opened the door.  The two cloaked figures entered the mansion, and the door slammed shut.

*************

    Lord Wyndalf's interest was aroused.  Kate had just finished telling him what she knew of Overseer's laboratory in Minnesota--which was quite a lot.  To him, it sounded as if Overseer was doing something big.  The only thing that puzzled Wyndalf was the fact that there had been no reports of majikal use up until a few months ago.  It simply didn't make sense.  Surely Overseer could not be doing the experiments that Kate seemed to think he was capable of without majik?  If Overseer had found some way to cover up the ripple effect of majikal use... then the guild could be in very serious danger.


    "You're sure he's been experimenting with lycanthropes?"  Wyndalf leaned forward, doing his best to conceal the worry etched on his face.

    Kate nodded.  "I saw a few of them while I was there.  There were all these tubes and containers with parts of lycanthropes in them too.  I don't know where he got them all, I never saw anyone deliver anything."

    "Then we must assume he was conjuring the items."  Wyndalf declared.  "If that is true, then we shall have to mount an investigation.  We cannot allow such a blatant violation of the code to go unpunished.  We may also find some information on Overseer, which would be most helpful."  He carefully weighed his options once more before making the final decision.  "We leave tomorrow.  I will take a group of three.  That should be enough for a swift investigation."

    Kate spoke up.  "I would like to request that I be allowed to participate in this investigation m' Lord."  Flowery speech always made a good impression, or at least she hoped it did.  

    Wyndalf smiled.  "I thought you would ask me that.  I had planned for you to come; your knowledge of the laboratory will be a great asset."

    Kate tried not to dance with glee.  "Thank you m' Lord."

    "Oh for God's sake, you don't have to brown nose.  You can just call me Wyndalf."  The sorcerer liked the titles and such, just not in a one on one conversation.  

    Kate was a bit taken aback by the annoyance in Wyndalf's voice, but recovered and nodded.  "Right then.  Thank you Wyndalf."

    "Go get some rest.  It will be a busy day tomorrow."