Holly Blackthorne usually didn’t get flustered by nudity.

For the past two years, she and Harlan had run their witch-for-hire business from the ground floor of their home at 27 Willowbound Lane, Mystic Grove, Paragon Bay — and while Holly wasn’t arrogant enough to claim she’d seen it all, she’d definitely seen a lot. From superheroines under the influence of powerful lust potions, to haunted laundromats that turned all clothing invisible, to ancient Fae Lords who didn’t see the point in clothes.

Even so, she had to pause for a moment when Monkaya walked into her home office completely bare-ass naked and said, “Hi! Could you help me with a problem?”

Holly became aware she was staring about three seconds too late to pretend she wasn’t.

She knew Monkaya, AKA Kaya Swift, of old. The diminutive monkey-themed superheroine had been a frequent guest at Coven’s Refuge long before she decided to put on the skimpy leotard and join Paragon Bay’s thriving super community, and she was a pretty familiar sight around the city, swinging and jumping among buildings and getting involved in all kinds of superhero shenanigans.

But seeing her naked like this still caught Holly off guard… because the nudity made it clearer than ever that she really wasn’t that much of a monkey. The ears and the tail, sure, and her feet were absolutely the climbing-tree kind, all gripping toes and long wiry tendons. But the rest of her was very human — small, athletic, hourglass-shaped, with the type of lean muscle you got from regularly swinging across rooftops. And, most importantly, no fur… except for on the tail, the tufts along her forearms and calves… and technically the dark, tight curl of hair between her legs…

Holly had to force her gaze upward to Monkaya’s face before she managed to say: “Okay. I can’t wait to hear the story behind this one.”

Harlan, who had been sitting at the side desk and carefully reinforcing the spells on Holly’s pointy witch hat, looked up from his work with an expression of detached interest. “Maybe it’s some sort of animal rights campaign?” he said.

“Nah, it was — animal rights campaign?” Monkaya repeated, giving him a confused look.

“Yes, like an unorthodox protest against the fur industry,” said Harlan. “A sort of ‘I’d rather go naked than wear fur’ thing.”

“Oh. Well, nah,” said Monkaya. “I mean, it’s not a bad idea, but… nah. I couldn’t afford the public indecency fines.” 

“Okay, so what happened, then?” Holly tried her best not to sound too impatient, even as she looked over the girl’s nude body. “I assume you didn’t just forget to put on clothes this morning?”

“Nope,” said Monkaya, a little sheepishly… if that word could even be used about a monkey-girl. “I ran into Imp. You know — demon girl, usually hangs out in Blackstone, plays tricks on people…” 

“I’ve met her.” Holly decided not to go into detail. “What were you doing in Blackstone, though? Isn’t that a little far from your usual beat?”

“I wasn’t in Blackstone, I was superheroing down in Serenity Springs,” said Monkaya. “And there was Imp, harassing a couple of tourists. I tried to stop her, and then — WHAMMO!”

“…WHAMMO?”

“Uh huh! WHAMMO! She hit me with this weird spell, and the next thing I knew I was naked and Imp was gone and the tourists I was trying to help were screaming and pointing at me like a couple of prudes. So I came here to ask if you could help me.”

“You walked from Serenity Springs to Willowbound Lane, completely naked?” said Holly. “That’s at least two kilometers! What about that public indecency thing you were so worried about?”

“Oh, I kept out of sight for the most part,” Monkaya replied. “And when I had to go through open spaces, I just tried to look hypnotized, like this.” She put on a wide-eyed, vacant expression and stretched her arms stiffly out in front of herself. “Must obey… must be naked… must walk…” she droned, in a surprisingly good imitation of a mindless hypno-victim.

Harlan nodded. “Not a bad strategy. Public indecency laws only apply to people who willingly get naked in public, not mind control victims. I looked it up after that incident with Xandra the Succubus Queen.”

“Okay, but I don’t get why you came here,” said Holly. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just get some new clothes? There’s a DressDove just down the road. They’re good about helping superheroes out with emergency outfits.”

“Yeah, funny thing about that,” said Monkaya. “Watch!” 

She scampered over to the coat rack, grabbed one of Holly’s spare trench coats, and slipped it on. A second later, the coat disintegrated into nothing, leaving her naked again.

Holly paused. Then she took her glasses off and began cleaning them… something she often did when she needed a moment to collect her thoughts and avoid saying things she might regret. When she was certain her voice would come out calm and collected, she let it sound: “You could’ve just told me it was a forced nudity curse!” 

“Oh… yeah, I could, couldn’t I?” said Monkaya. “Sorry, I just thought… ‘show, don’t tell,’ right?”

“That’s for authors!”

“Oh. Right.”

“You’re just lucky it was a normal coat and not one of my special spellcrafted ones… oh…” Holly trailed off as a familiar warmth pulsed across her midriff, centred on the flame-shaped mark on her belly.

She knew the feeling; it meant that something lucky had either just happened or was just about to happen. But what could be lucky about Monkaya accidentally destroying a perfectly good trenchcoat…?

“I’ll pay for the coat!” said Monkaya, who didn’t seem to have noticed Holly trailing off. “I mean… maybe you can put it on my tab? It’s not like I have pockets or a wallet right now.”

Holly pulled herself together and slid her glasses back on. “Let’s just see about this curse first. Then we can discuss how you’ll pay me back afterwards.”

“May I?” Harlan had raised himself and was looking at Monkaya so closely that Holly might have suspected him of leering at the girl’s bare tits… if she didn’t know from experience that when presented with a magical mystery, sex was usually the last thing on her boyfriend’s mind. 

(Robyn had once tried to seduce Holly right in front of him while he was working on a particularly tricky spell, just to see if he’d notice… and it wasn’t until both girls were naked and Robyn’s head was between Holly’s legs that he’d looked up from his work and asked politely: “I’m sorry, did you two want something?”) 

Now, he grabbed a small leather pouch from a nearby shelf and moved toward Monkaya. “Do you mind if I scan you?” he said. Without waiting for an answer, he opened the pouch and sprinkled a pinch of sparkling dust over the monkey-girl’s head.

“Kah-chuff!” Monkaya sneezed.

The dust swirled around her, revealing the curse energies clinging to her skin. To anyone with magical sight, they pulsed in a vibrant electric blue — Holly immediately recognized Imp’s signature demonic power, but she also immediately saw that it wasn’t especially strong.

“Okay,” she said, “this is a simple curse. Much weaker than Imp’s usual work. How long did it take her to cast it?”

“Um, I dunno,” Monkaya shrugged. “Not like I had a stopwatch. A second? Maybe two?”

“That explains it,” said Holly. “She didn’t expect you to show up, so she improvised something quick to get you off her ass. And as we know, ‘easy spells are easily dispelled.’”

Monkaya wrinkled her nose in confusion. “Um… do we know that? I don’t think I know that.”

“It’s an old saying from Tir’Galdur. It means if you half-ass something, you get half-assed results.” Holly gave her a pointed look. “You’ve seriously never heard that?”

“You know I’m not a magic-user!”

“No, but with all the time you spend following the Familiar Four around, I thought you’d have picked up something.”

“Oh… Well, we usually don’t talk magic.”

“Why not?” said Harlan. “I thought monkeys were supposed to be curious. Curiosity is the mark of intelligence.”

“You know what else is a mark of intelligence?” said Monkaya. “Not getting too involved with forces that can disintegrate all your clothes or turn you into a mindless hypno-zombie!”

“…okay, leaving aside for the moment that this is an interesting point —”

“In any case,” Holly interrupted Harlan before he went off on another tangent. “The good news is that this curse is easy to break.”

She examined the lingering threads of magic. They were fragile, hastily woven, like cobwebs spun in a storm. An impossible obstacle for a non-magical person like Monkaya, maybe — but even a trainee sorceress could break them without even trying.

And so, Holly didn’t even bother with incantations. She simply reached out with her magic and gave the curse threads a gentle pull. The demonic residue flickered and vanished in a puff of harmless blue sparkles. And because it felt like a waste to not do something more, Holly swept her hand through the air, gathered the ambient energy and weaved it into new fabric, which formed around the monkey-girl, stitched itself together and solidified.

Moments later, Monkaya was wearing a fitted pair of bright yellow leggings (with a convenient hole for the tail!) and a tight pink shirt. Across the chest, in bold letters, the shirt read: WILL SUPERHERO 4 BANANAS.

“Wow! Look at this!” She looked down, twisting left and right to check out the fit. “Talk about an easy way to get dressed! Thank you so much for — wait. Bananas?” She squinted to read the shirt. “I don’t even like bananas! What kind of stereotyping is this?”

“Sorry, I don’t know where my mind went,” Holly lied. “Don’t worry, those clothes won’t last more than a day or so. But that should give you plenty of time to get back home and put on something real. You don’t have to pay me for the curse-breaking, but you do still owe me for the coat you disintegrated.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay.”

“You know, that whole thing about monkeys and bananas is actually a myth,” said Harlan. “The banana, as we know it, is a cultivated fruit developed for human consumption and contains too much sugar to be healthy for monkeys. Most primates actually prefer grapes… oh, hang on. Phone call.”

He pulled the buzzing phone out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID before answering.

“Hello, Robyn,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting a call from you this early. Do you want me to ask how your audition went, or should I wait until you get home? …What?” He tilted the phone slightly, listening to Robyn’s tinny voice. “Yes, Holly is here. Sure, I’ll put you on loudspeaker. She wants me to put her on loudspeaker,” he (quite unnecessarily) added to Holly.

Once more, the flame mark on Holly’s stomach pulsated with heat… it wasn’t burning, but it was definitely announcing some sort of lucky break that she should take advantage of. But what could it…?

“Hello? Holly?” Robyn’s voice sounded from the phone.

“Robyn?” said Holly. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much.” Robyn sounded annoyed. “I’ve just been kidnapped. Again.”

Monkaya opened her mouth — probably to say something unhelpfully shocked — but Holly shushed her. Suddenly, she knew exactly what the lucky break was. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” said Robyn sardonically. “Just annoyed at myself for being an idiot. You know that audition I had today? The one where they said they needed ‘a 24-year-old redhead from Tir’Galdur, preferably a former Bardic student of Evershade University, for a raunchy musical comedy’? And I said it sounded like it was made for me?”

Holly groaned. “Don’t tell me it was a trap.”

“Wish I could, but it was, so I can’t. Soon as I arrived at the location, I heard this humming… really beautiful, like… weirdly perfect. I started feeling really horny, and then I just… blanked out. Like someone hit the off-switch in my brain. Next thing I knew, I woke up here in this… I don’t know, it’s an old, abandoned warehouse or something.” 

“Okay.” Holly forced her voice to stay calm. “Do you see an exit? Can you get out of there?”

“Nope. They’ve put some kind of energy-dampening collar around my neck. I’m weak as a kitten right now, I can barely hold my phone. Besides, there are all these people here, wearing robes and masks, and they’re all standing still and not saying anything. It’s like being in a room with a bunch of robed mannequins. Or a hypnotized cult. Whichever’s creepier.”

“You know, this sort of thing wouldn’t happen if you’d just hire an agent like I told you to,” said Harlan.

“Oh, come on! You know how expensive agents are? I’m not gonna waste money on — ugh, all right, all right!” Robyn cut herself off. “Guys, my kidnapper wants to talk to you.”

“Lady Blackthorne.” Another voice sounded from the phone. 

“Don’t call me that,” said Holly automatically. 

“Protocol, my Lady,” said the voice smugly. It was deep and husky, and it was impossible to tell if it belonged to a man or a woman. “And Mr Gardener. As you can hear, your girlfriend is quite safe… for now. How safe she’ll remain is entirely up to the two of you.”

“And who might you be?” said Harlan.

The voice chuckled. “Oh, names aren’t important. You can just think of me as… the Conductor of the Silent Choir.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” said Harlan. “Why would a silent choir need a conductor? For that matter, how can a silent choir even call itself a choir? The entire purpose of a choir is to sing, and singing, by definition, is not silent.”

“What?!” The Conductor sounded almost as annoyed as Robyn had a moment ago. “Mr Gardener, I don’t think you quite grasp what’s going on here. We have your girlfriend!”

“Yes, I got that,” said Harlan. “Sorry. People keep telling me I should focus on the matter at hand instead of going off on tangents, but sometimes I forget myself. Please continue. You have our girlfriend…”

“Yes, we have your girlfriend,” the Conductor repeated, now sounding almost sulky. “And if you want to see her again, you’ll do exactly as I say…”

“Sorry, sorry. I know this is technically another tangent, but I just need to clarify one thing. When you say ‘your girlfriend,’ is that meant in the singular or plural sense? I mean, do you think Robyn is just Holly’s girlfriend, or are you aware of our polyamorous arrangement? You’d be amazed at how many people don’t realize that the three of us are —”

“What is wrong with you?” the Conductor snapped. “This isn’t a pleasure call or an excuse for banter! I’ve kidnapped your girlfriend! Do you grasp the seriousness of this situation?! You do realize Paragon Bay is the number one market for illegal sex slaves, don’t you? I know for a fact that there are several supervillains who would pay quite handsomely for a cute redhead!”

Monkaya opened her mouth again, but Holly cut her off with a quick gesture, never taking her eyes off the phone. 

“All right,” she said. “We’re listening.”

“Good.” The Conductor slipped back into smugness. “The day after tomorrow, at 12:30 PM, a flight to Tir’Galdur departs from Paragon Bay Airport. You will both be on it. Book your tickets today, spend tomorrow packing whatever you need. Once you arrive at Caer Valor Airport, we’ll contact you with further instructions.”

“And Robyn?” said Holly.

“She stays with us until further notice. Don’t worry, she won’t be harmed… as long as you don’t get any foolish ideas.” The Conductor’s voice shifted; low and echoing, layered with magical resonance. Holly felt the prickling sensation of an enchantment settling over the conversation. “The last time your girlfriend was in trouble, you went crying to the White Coven. So this time, let’s make sure you don’t do that. Notice anything different? How about you do a little magic scan?”

With a frown, Harlan picked up his bag again and threw a pinch of the glittering dust up in the air. For a moment, the dust sparkled and shone in the air… then it turned pure black and disintegrated into nothing.

 “Vespara’s Curse,” said Harlan.

“I thought you’d recognize it,” said the Conductor. “As you can see, we’re prepared. From this very moment, if you try — directly or indirectly — to breathe a word about this to anyone… or if you try to use magic to track us down… we will know. And then, the only way you’ll ever see your precious Robyn again will be in the photos we send you of her, wearing a slave collar and mindlessly sucking the cock of some supervillain or other. Am I making myself clear?”

“Crystal clear,” Holly muttered, as the pressure of the spell faded. “Countess Duskvale.”

A long pause. Then: “What do you mean, Lady Blackthorne? I hope you’re not under any delusion that I’m Countess Duskvale.”

“Maybe not,” said Holly, “but you’re working for her, right?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“You don’t have to,” Holly said flatly. “Because I’m right. Nobody calls me ‘Lady Blackthorne’ except Countess Duskvale and whatever people she’s got working for her. So tell her from me that we’ve got her message and that she’s a fucking cunt.”

“That’s no way for the future Queen of Tir’Galdur to speak,” said the Conductor with mocking cheer. “I’ll leave you two to plan your trip. The Silent Choir has sung.”

The call ended.

Holly and Harlan looked at each other.

“I’m still not quite sure how it can call itself a silent choir if it actually sings,” said Harlan. “I get that it’s probably meant to be theatrical, but couldn’t they have picked a name that makes sense?”

“Never mind that,” said Holly. “We don’t have a lot of time to solve this. Robyn could be anywhere by now…”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure she’s still somewhere in Paragon Bay,” said Harlan. “This Conductor person made a point of threatening to sell her as a sex slave on the Paragon Bay black market, but they can only do that if she’s still in the city. So we have already narrowed it down. And Robyn did mention an old, abandoned warehouse…”

“Sounds like either Bayfront or the Warrens.”

“It does. Let’s see… Robyn’s audition was in Starlight Views. The Warrens are much closer to Starlight Views, but Bayfront would probably be easier for these Silent Choir characters to —”

“Excuse me,” said Monkaya.

Holly and Harlan turned to look at her. They’d almost forgotten she was there.

“So I’ve got about a million questions,” she said.

Harlan frowned. “I doubt that. No one can come up with a million questions in only a few minutes. Even averaging one question per second, it would take several days.”

Monkaya opened her mouth, then hesitated. Her tail flicked back and forth for a moment. “Okay, I have, like, ten questions.”

“That sounds more plausible.”

“Right. First question, then.” Monkaya looked at Holly in disbelief. “You’re the future Queen of Tir’Galdur?!”

“No, I’m not,” said Holly flatly.

“But —”

“Okay, fine,” Holly sighed. “Let’s just go upstairs and plan our next move, and I’ll explain everything. Harlan, hand me my hat.”

Robyn leant against the rusty support pillar. The energy-dampening silver collar around her neck wasn’t tight and didn’t hurt, but it made every movement a tremendous effort. It felt like moving through thick syrup. Even just standing up was exhausting. 

The warehouse was large, open, and unsettlingly quiet. Dust hung in the air, lit by soft beams of sunlight that slanted in from above. Somewhere nearby, an old chain creaked faintly. And around her stood the Silent Choir, all dressed in their indigo robes and watching her intently.

Well. At least she assumed they were watching her. Their faces were all turned in her direction, even if said faces were hidden behind blank, featureless white masks. 

There were fifteen of them, and true to the name, they hadn’t made so much as a sound since she’d woken up amongst them. The robes and masks covered their faces and bodies completely, making Robyn wonder if they were even human. If she hadn’t seen them move earlier, she might have thought they were lifeless mannequins.

Only the Conductor stood out. Their robes and mask were just as blank and formless as the others, but the robes were black instead of indigo, and the featureless mask was gold instead of white. They (Robyn still had no idea if the person underneath was male, or female, or neither) were still holding her phone in their gloved hands.

Robyn forced herself to stand up straight. “So,” she said with forced casualness. “If you’re done with my phone, can I have it back? Seems like I’m gonna be here for a while… I want to see if my favourite fanfics have been updated.”

The Conductor turned. They moved slowly, deliberately. “I can see why Lady Blackthorne hasn’t grown tired of you yet,” they said in their husky, androgynous voice. “You share her inability to take kidnappings seriously.”

“Well, as kidnappings go, this one’s pretty pathetic,” said Robyn. “The last time I was kidnapped, I was kept in a luxury suite. With a king-size bed and a hot tub. Sure, I was drugged and unconscious for most of it, but they were at least making an effort. This is just sad.” She gestured weakly at the decaying warehouse. “Did Countess Duskvale slash the kidnapping budget this year? Or are you pocketing the difference?”

“You make a lot of assumptions.” The Conductor’s voice had a slight hint of irritation to it.

“I have to do something to keep myself entertained. Give me my phone back and I’ll shut up.”

There was a slight pause, just a beat too long to be casual.

“So sorry, Miss Robyn Foxlane. This phone has served its purpose… as have you. Lady Blackthorne has received the message. She knows we have you and she knows we’re serious. Now we just have to wait for her to do her part.”

“I wouldn’t bet on her playing along,” said Robyn. “Holly was never very good at doing what she was told. All the trouble we got into back at Evershade… okay, some of that might have been my fault, but still. If you think she’s just going to follow your instructions like a good girl —”

“Of course she won’t!” the Conductor snapped. “Lady Blackthorne, the hero of the Battle of Evershade, defeater of the Dark Queen, who turned down the throne of Tir’Galdur? Obviously she’s not going to play along! She’s going to figure out exactly where we’re keeping you, and she’s going to come here to rescue you! With or without that boyfriend of hers, I don’t know — but she’ll be here. And we’ll be ready.” 

“Harlan’s my boyfriend too, you know,” said Robyn. “I thought he made that pretty clear on the phone. Don’t you know what a polyamorous relationship is? It means all three of us are together.”

There was another pause, rather longer this time.

“At the same time,” Robyn goaded, happy to see at least some sort of reaction. “Hot, naked, three-way sex! You wouldn’t believe how great it feels to fuck and suck at the same time —”

“Enough!” The Conductor shouted, their voice turning almost shrill for a moment. “Isn’t this just like a bard?! None of you can take anything seriously! Sorcerers practice self-control to master their instincts and channel their natural powers! Wizards hone their craft through meticulous research and disciplined practice! But you bards? You sing raunchy songs and flirt and flounce and fuck your way through life! You treat magic as a game… no, it’s worse than that. You turn magic into a horny parody! You’re worse than the Mundies!”

Robyn blinked at the unexpected tirade. But it only took her a moment to recover enough to say: “You were never invited to any parties back at Evershade, were you?” 

“Who said I was at Evershade?!” the Conductor growled.

“You did, with that rant of yours,” said Robyn innocently. When the Conductor didn’t answer, she continued: “So who were you back at Evershade? Anyone I knew? Obviously you weren’t a Bardic student, so either Wizardry or Sorcery… hang on.” Robyn groaned. “Davinia Duskvale, that had better not be you behind that creepy gold mask!”

“Davinia —?! Are you joking? As if that pathetic, spoiled brat could ever —” The Conductor cut themselves off with a sharp inhale, no doubt struggling to keep from going what would probably have been a very interesting and very passionate rant.

Robyn wished they hadn’t been wearing that mask, because their expression must be worth seeing. Apparently she wasn’t the only one in this room who had strong opinions about Davinia. 

It took a few seconds, but the Conductor collected themselves. “No. I’m not the Countess’s spoiled daughter,” they said. “Not that it’ll matter to you in a few minutes. You see… you’ve served your purpose as bait. Now all that’s left for you is to join my collection of bards.”

“Collection of —” Robyn’s stomach dropped. She looked at the members of the Silent Choir, who were still standing rigid and unmoving in their shapeless robes and blank white masks. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, but I did.” The Conductor was definitely back on top now. “I found a way to make use of Bardic students. Bardic magic is really quite potent… and your talent for performing can be very effective. All you lack is the right discipline. Let me show you…. Soprano Number Five. Tenor Number Three. Step forward.”

Two robed figures stepped out of the formation and glided toward the front. They moved without sound or hesitation, like puppets on invisible strings, before stopping and standing side by side in front of Robyn.

“Let’s see if she recognizes you,” said the Conductor. “Disrobe.”

They obeyed at once. In perfect unison, they raised their hands, pushed back their hoods, lifted their masks, and let their robes slip from their shoulders. The indigo fabric slid down their bodies and pooled at their feet. 

Underneath, they were naked. And extremely familiar.

“Lyra?” said Robyn. “Lysander?”

Of course she recognized them. They’d been fellow Bardic students at Evershade. 

Lysander Greene. Not the smartest, coolest or most strong-willed of students, but the life of every party and a masterful performer — nobody could pour their heart and soul into a song or a performance like Lysander. 

And Lyra Silverglade. The crackpot bohemian who used to talk to the trees and was always humming melodies under her breath as if she was listening to music nobody else could hear. The other Bardic students had often wondered if she was on something.

True, Robyn had never been as close to them as she was to Holly or Harlan, but they had been friends. They’d been there for four years of musical spells and performances, experiments with new sounds, hilariously bad improv, skinny dipping in Evershade Lake. They’d talked about everything, from Lysander’s insecurities and Lyra’s transitioning to Robyn’s problems with her family. And of course that final year when Lyra and Lysander had both joined the rebellion, using their talents in the guerilla war against Queen Vespara.

Now, they were both standing there, side by side, their faces expressionless… but Lysander’s cock was hard and pointing straight at Robyn; Lyra’s full bush was soaked at the center, the dark curls matted and glistening.

Robyn wanted to wince. But she didn’t. The Conductor was trying to get a reaction out of her, but dammit, she wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction. Instead, she put on the cheekiest smile she could. “Really, Lys? I know you’ve got this entire ‘vanish into the character you’re playing’ going on… and you, Lyra, you were always zoning out and making everyone wonder if you were all there… but guys, this is taking it a bit too far.”

They ignored her, staring blankly ahead.

“They can’t hear you,” said the Conductor. “They only hear what I want them to hear… only think what I want them to think.” There was a definite trace of self-satisfied malice in their voice. “I told you I’d found a way to get some actual use out of bards. This way they can focus… instead of wasting their lives and magic on sex, booze and bad jokes, they can put everything into the performance!”

Robyn looked at her friends, who still stood stiff and silent, locked in a state of mindless arousal. Then she looked at the rest of the Silent Choir, who remained motionless and eerily silent. And let out a slow, resigned sigh.

“And now you’re going to turn me into one of them, aren’t you,” she said. “Soprano Number Six or something.”

“Soprano Number Seven, actually,” said the Conductor. “Because you don’t think you can resist, do you? I’m sure you remember how easily you fell under the spell of the hum earlier today…”

Robyn remembered. That is to say, she remembered the start of it: showing up for the audition, then hearing the strange hum come from nowhere, and then — nothing. She knew she wouldn’t be able to resist… but that didn’t mean she was going to just stop fighting.

“What about that promise you made to Holly about me not coming to any harm?”

“Oh, I’m not breaking any promises. I won’t harm a single hair on your empty little head.” The Conductor’s voice had turned softer; now it seemed almost warm and pleasant. “In fact… I’m going to let you indulge in one of a bard’s most beloved pastimes. With your fondness for threesomes, it should be right up your alley. Soprano Number Five, Tenor Number Three… as we rehearsed.”

Lysander and Lyra’s eyes remained blank and staring, but they moved like puppets, or trained dancers, in unnaturally perfect unison. Lyra turned halfway, bent at the waist, and pushed her ass out, legs parted just enough to show the soft, wet folds between her thighs. Lysander stepped up behind her and took hold of her hips, and with one smooth thrust he drove his hard cock into her.

Neither of them let out so much as a gasp or a moan as they started fucking; they were like dolls, or robots — rhythmic, precise, completely without passion or emotion. Fucking… fucking… fucking.

It was awful. And it was bizarrely hypnotic. Robyn couldn’t look away. 

But once again, she hid the dread behind a sarcastic tone. “You’ve got to be joking…”

“By all means, think of it as a joke while you still can,” said the Conductor. “In a few seconds, you won’t know the difference between a joke and a blowjob. The Silent Choir sings!”

“To be fair, I’ve given some pretty hilarious blowjobs… oh…” was all Robyn had time to say before the robed Choir started to hum.

The harmonious, overpowering sound filled the air. Robyn wanted to cover her ears, to block it out, but the collar made her arms feel as heavy as lead and she couldn’t muster the strength… and already she was starting to feel herself slip away. The hum was warm and thick and full, like velvet poured over her brain… 

…her nipples stiffened, her thighs twitched, her cunt tingled… her clit… her clit…  she didn’t want to listen, but it felt so good to listen… turning her on… turning her…

“Ah… ummm…” she said. A small notion played around in her mind that she should at least make some final sarcastic remark or defiant quip… but the words were gone, drowned out by the relentless hum. She couldn’t… she couldn’t… “….ummmm…hummmmm…”

Thoughts, feelings, memories… everything that was Robyn… it was melting away… fuck, it was making her so horny…her body was on fire… her nipples pressing against the fabric of her shirt…  her cunt… wetter…

She wondered if… 

…wondered if… 

…fuck…

…fuck…

She stopped struggling. Her arms hung loosely at her sides as she stared vacantly ahead.

“That’s much better,” came the voice of the Conductor. “Completely docile and mindless, like all bards should be. Welcome to the Choir, Soprano Number Seven.”

Soprano Number Seven didn’t answer. She could have answered if she wanted to, but she no longer wanted anything. She had no desires, no thoughts. Only mindless obedience.

The Conductor stepped forward and almost casually reached for the silver collar around her neck. “You won’t be needing this anymore,” they said in a satisfied tone. “Obedience is far more effective than restraint, wouldn’t you agree?”

With a simple twist, the collar came loose and dropped to the floor with a soft metallic clink. 

Soprano Number Seven remained silent. She didn’t agree with the Conductor’s words. She didn’t disagree with them either. Agreeing or disagreeing would have required some form of thought, and she no longer had any thoughts.

“Now,” said the Conductor. “You, my mindless little bard, are about to be the main character in the Silent Choir’s latest production. A one-time erotic performance for a limited audience. Take off your clothes and join your mindless little friends while we wait for Lady Blackthorne.”

There was no such thing as disobeying the Conductor. Stiffly, almost mechanically, Soprano Number Seven started to undress.

“Okay, you’ll have to excuse the mess,” said Holly as she and Harlan led Monkaya into the living room.

The room was in its usual state of comfortable chaos: books piled on the coffee table alongside a half-finished mug of tea and a thick layer of papers, crumpled napkins and notes bearing Harlan’s untidy handwriting. A few empty takeout containers were tucked in a corner, and a tangle of blankets and cushions formed a small mountain on the couch. One of the comfy chairs was currently occupied by Robyn’s guitar.

“That’s okay,” said Monkaya. “They say magic-users are either cluttery or fanatically neat, and you guys never struck me as fanatics… ooh, that’s a big map!”

She’d noticed the massive map that covered almost the entire eastern wall; a detailed map of the Aurelia Islands, with a particular focus on Paragon Bay, and all fourteen city districts clearly labeled and color-coded. The map was riddled with pins, notes, and dart holes.

“Holly and Robyn call it the Location Map,” said Harlan. “I wanted to call it something else, since technically all maps are location maps, but I was outvoted.”

“Is it a magic map?” said Monkaya.

“No, it’s a normal map,” said Holly. “That’s part of the point. My hat is magic, but…” She reached into her hat and pulled out a small dart. “This dart isn’t.”

Monkaya cocked her head and looked at it curiously. “I thought magicians pulled rabbits out of their hats, not darts.” 

Holly weighed the dart in her hand. “I keep a lot of things in my hat, but not rabbits,” she said. “That’d be animal cruelty.”

“Technically, there was that time you stashed Carrot Noir in your hat,” said Harlan.

“Rabbit-themed supervillains aren’t the same as actual rabbits,” said Holly. “Besides, I let her out as soon as the White Coven came to take her into custody. But enough about that… let’s get down to business.”

She raised the dart, closed her eyes and took a slow breath. She couldn’t rush this too much, she had to wait until it felt right. And it didn’t take long before heat started pulsing from her flame mark, and she knew she would hit the target… and then she threw the dart.

Thunk. 

Holly opened her eyes to see where on the map it had landed. “Bayfront North,” she declared, adjusting her glasses. “Harlan, check the address, will you?”

“I’m on it.” Harlan lifted his phone and opened the map app.

“…I feel like I’m missing something here,” said Monkaya. 

Holly paused, but only for a moment. “Okay, I guess you deserve an explanation.” She turned towards Monkaya and motioned to her bare midriff, where her flame mark was on proud display. “Do you know why I always wear these midriff-baring crop tops?”

“Huh?” said Monkaya, surprised at what had to seem like a non-sequitur. “Um, no? I kinda just thought it was a fashion thing… oh, and a cool tattoo. If I had a tattoo that looked like a flame around my bellybutton, I’d probably want to show it off too.”

“You’re kind of close,” said Holly. “But this isn’t a tattoo.”

“It isn’t? Wait…” Monkaya looked up at Holly’s face, then back at the mark. “Is this why that Conductor person said you were the future Queen of Tir’Galdur? Is it a birthmark of destiny or something? She who carries the mark of the flame shall henceforth be Queen —”

“Annnnnd I’m going to stop you there before you start talking like a fanatic from Tir’Galdur,” said Holly. “I told you, I’m not the future Queen. That’s just Countess Duskvale’s stupid propaganda.”

“Countess…” Monkaya frowned. “You keep mentioning that name. Who is she?”

“We weren’t talking about her, we were talking about this.” Holly motioned to her flame mark. “This little flame is the reason why I’m banned from every casino, lottery and raffle in Paragon Bay. It’s a luck mark.”

Monkaya looked like she wanted to talk more about Queens and Countesses, but apparently changed her mind. She leant closer to get a better look at the mark on Holly’s belly. “You mean… it makes you lucky?” 

“Exactly. But only as long as I don’t cover it up. If I do this —” (Holly covered the mark with her hand) “— I’m not lucky at all. But if I keep it uncovered like this —” (she removed her hand) “— Lady Luck smiles at me again.”

“Wow,” said Monkaya. “Wait… are we talking ‘win the lottery ten times in a row’ lucky, or ‘lightning strikes all your enemies’ lucky?”

“Oh, my mark can’t make miracles happen,” said Holly. “Can’t go against any natural or magical laws, can’t affect people’s minds or make them act against their nature… but what it can do is take coincidences and random chances, and steer them in my favour. Like, to take a random example, if I happen to throw a normal dart at a normal map… it’ll just happen to hit the exact place I need to go. And it won’t even trigger Vespara’s curse, because it’s not magic… it’s just random chance.”

“Oh!” Monkaya’s tail swished about excitedly. “Does that mean that if you put on a blindfold and walked in a random direction, you’d just happen to find the right location?”

“Probably,” said Holly. “But this way is quicker. Got the address yet, Harlan?”

Harlan held up his phone. “712 Dockside Industrial Road, Pier 47, Warehouse C, Bayfront, Paragon Bay.”

“Bingo,” said Holly. “We have our abandoned warehouse.”

“Seems like it. According to this, the warehouses at Pier 47 haven’t officially been in use for a while.”

“Yeah, because supervillains and kidnappers and sex traffickers are using them,” said Monkaya. 

Holly turned to look at her again. “They are?”

“Uh-huh,” said Monkaya. “Well-known fact in the super community. Supervillains, especially supervillains who don’t want to spend a lot of money on lairs or hideouts, love abandoned warehouses. Creepy atmosphere, no rent, lots of space for traps or doomsday machines. And there are so many of those warehouses that it takes ages for police or snooping heroines to find the right one… at least if they don’t have lucky darts like yours.” 

“I suppose it makes a weird kind of sense,” said Holly.

Harlan nodded. “Yes, but even if we have the location, let’s not celebrate too soon. If this Conductor does work for Countess Duskvale, they know about your luck mark. It’s very possible that they expected us to pull off something like this, and we’re walking right into a trap.”

“We probably are,” Holly admitted. “Which is why we need to be smarter than them. You recorded the phone call, didn’t you?”

Harlan gave her an odd look. “Well, of course I did. Why wouldn’t I record the phone call? What if someone had said something interesting?”

“I knew I could count on you. What I need you to do is listen through the recording and see if you can pick up any clues. Some hint as to who the Conductor is, what kind of magic we can expect — anything that might give us an edge here.”

“Right,” said Harlan. “I’ll listen to it twice, just to make certain I’ve caught everything, and I’ll probably need to replay parts of it several times to analyze certain sentences. I’ll have to work without magic too, so it might take a bit of time. Let’s call it… twenty minutes? Twenty-five? If I’m not back in half an hour, come drag me out.” Harlan turned on his heel and strode toward the bedroom, already scrolling through the recordings on his phone.

“Hopefully, that means we’ll have an actual plan going within the hour.” Holly turned to Monkaya. “And you’re going to help. You still owe me for that coat.”

Just like Harlan had, Monkaya gave her an odd look. “Someone I know just got kidnapped! Of course I’ll help — coat or no coat! You want me to go down to Pier 47 and kick this Conductor’s butt?”

“And end up hypnotized and sold as a mindless sex slave yourself?” said Holly. “I appreciate the offer, but like I said… we have to be smarter about this. That was why I stopped you from speaking when the Conductor was on the phone.”

Monkaya’s look of disappointment was replaced by a look of understanding. “Oh! Because it means they don’t know about me! And if this Vespara’s Curse thing keeps you and Harlan from going to the White Coven for help, I still could —” 

“Actually… no, you couldn’t,” said Holly. “Vespara’s Curse isn’t that easy to loophole your way out of. ‘Can’t call for aid, directly or indirectly,’ remember? If you went to talk to the White Coven, something would just happen to you along the way so you never reached them. At the very least, the Conductor would know we’d tried to call for help, and Robyn would be a supervillain’s sex slave.”

Monkaya frowned. “Well, that’s two of my ideas shot down,” she said. “If it continues like this I’m going to run out of suggestions. Why did you stop me from talking, then?”

“Because you’re right about one thing,” said Holly. “The Conductor has no idea about you. That makes you the ace up our sleeves… our secret weapon, if you will.”

“Okay,” said Monkaya. “Now we’re talking. Secret weapon, I can do that. Long as you don’t actually stuff me up your sleeves.”

“I make no promises,” said Holly dryly.

“…What, never?”

“Okay, not never, but — oh, never mind.” Holly gave up. “Let me make us a cup of tea, and then we’ll sit down and I’ll give you that explanation I promised. I need something to keep my mind busy, otherwise I’ll just spend the entire time freaking out about Robyn.”

“Good call,” said Monkaya. “First rule of superheroing; freakouts lead to failure. And probably capture and slavery. But I suppose if you have luck on your side —”

“Luck is great, but you can’t trust it too blindly… I learned that the hard way.” Holly motioned for Monkaya to follow her to the kitchen. “So instead of getting reckless and running straight into the Conductor’s trap, I might as well use the waiting time productively and fill you in on what this is all about.”

“Teabags okay?” said Holly, looking through the cupboards. “We have green tea, peppermint tea, regular black tea… I thought we had chamomile, but I think Robyn drank the last of it….”

“Peppermint, please!” Monkaya watched as Holly took a box of tea bags out of the cupboard. “So, you’re gonna tell me what’s really going on here?”

“Well, it’s a long story, so you’ll have to settle for the abbreviated version. But first… let me give you some words of advice.”

“Um, okay?”

Holly opened another cupboard and found two mugs. “If anyone — anyone at all — ever tells you that you’re the Chosen One, destined by fate, blessed by prophecy, meant to bring back a golden age, whatever… then run away, as fast as you can. Because they’re either trying to sell you something, or they are trying to use you for something. Probably both.” She placed the mugs down on the counter.

Surprisingly, Monkaya didn’t seem too impressed at these words of wisdom. “That sounds like a quote,” she said. “Did you get it from somewhere, or did you make it up yourself? Because if you did, you should send it to Powers & Perspectives. They’d love it!”

“They probably would… especially since I got it from them in the first place,” Holly admitted. “It’s true, though. You know I’m originally from Tir’Galdur, right? I grew up here in Paragon Bay, but I was born in Tir’Galdur.” 

“Um… yeah, I remember,” said Monkaya. “And people from Tir’Galdur tell you that you’re the Chosen One?”

“Yes.” Holly turned on the tap to fill the mugs with water. “Look, Tir’Galdur runs on stupid ideas about prophecies, Chosen Ones and sacred bloodlines. That’s how it went and got itself saddled with a Queen like Vespara.”

“Ohhhh!” Monkaya brightened, as if realizing something. “You mean that Vespara! The Dark Queen from the news a few years back… the one who was dethroned and then returned and then everyone thought she’d died, but then she returned again… the Lord Waric wannabe!”

Despite herself, Holly had to chuckle. “She hated being compared to him. Trust me, I sat through hours of speeches about how Waric was an unworthy usurper while she was the ‘Chosen Queen, by Destiny and Prophecy.’ Totally made up, of course, but it kept her on the throne for at least a century.”

She placed the full mugs down on the counter and snapped her fingers five times. She only needed a tiny bit of magic to heat up this small amount of water. After the fifth snap, both mugs were steaming.

Monkaya let out an impressed whistle. “Talk about instant tea!”

“It still has to steep for a few minutes,” said Holly. “In the meantime… Yeah, Vespara. Her Royal Highness, Queen of Tir’Galdur. Though… by the time I was born, she wasn’t Queen anymore. There’d been an uprising, the White Coven came from Paragon Bay to help dethrone her. The leader of the rebellion, Lady Cordelia Hedge, was appointed the new Queen because obviously she was the real Chosen Queen, blah blah blah.” 

“Oh yeah… the Familiar Four did say they’d been to Tir’Galdur years ago,” Monkaya nodded. “But let me get this straight. The country is ruled by the Chosen Queen by Destiny and Prophecy… until she is defeated and dethroned, and then the woman who defeated her becomes the new Chosen Queen by Prophecy and Destiny?”

“Retroactively, yeah. They don’t even have to change the prophecy. It’s vague enough that it can fit just about anyone.”

Monkaya flicked her tail in thought. “I’ve heard of recycling paper and bottles and supervillain inventions, but I didn’t know you could recycle prophecies as well,” she said. “So that’s why this Conductor called you the future Queen?”

Holly snorted. “That’s the story they tell. ‘All hail Lady Holly Blackthorne of Caer Valor — Queen of Tir’Galdur, Heroine of the Battle of Evershade, Vanquisher of the Dark Usurper, Last of the Heroic Bloodline, the Chosen One Destined to Take Her Rightful Place on the Throne and Bring Back the Golden Age’.”

Monkaya looked a little taken aback. “All that?” 

“All that and more. Aren’t I a special girl?” Holly rolled her eyes. “And you know the stupid part? I didn’t even defeat Vespara. Not really. All I did was shove a magic flute up her pussy.”

“…all you did was shove a what up her pussy?!”

Holly allowed herself a smirk. That was the only part of the story she actually enjoyed telling… if for no other reason than because it was so satisfying to topple that entire ‘Chosen One’ myth. ”Okay… let me start from the beginning,” she said. “And it begins with Vespara — after the White Council dethroned her  — coming to see my parents in their home at Caer Valor.” 

Monkaya cocked her head. “You’ve never talked about your parents before.”

“I’m talking about them now,” said Holly. “My father was Leo Langdon, born and raised in Paragon Bay, and my mother was the Honourable Lady June Blackthorne of Caer Valor. Don’t be fooled by the fancy words, by the way — in noble-speak ‘Honourable’ means you’re just barely noble. Like, you’re invited to the party but have to sit at the kids’ table and shut up while the grownups talk. I suppose that was why Vespara chose them… she figured they would be greedy like her and jump at the chance to rise in status and power. 

“So she showed up on my parents’ doorstep and started giving this big speech about Fate and Destiny and how their newborn daughter — that’s me — was destined to be the new Chosen One, destined to save the country from the false usurpers and bring her family untold wealth and power. And if they just let her borrow me for one tiny little ritual, the noble House of Blackthorne would rise to glory.” 

“Right. So was she trying to use you or sell something?”

“You’re catching on.” said Holly. “She wanted my body — not like that!” she added at Monkaya’s look. “What Vespara wanted was immortality, you see. Really powerful sorceresses like her already live for centuries and beyond, but that wasn’t enough for her. She wanted full, Waric-style immortality. The ritual was to turn me into her vessel, her backup body as it were. If her own body died, her soul would move into mine. Immortality through possession.”

Monkaya groaned. “Please tell me your parents told her to fuck off.”

“Oh, they did. Threw her out on her ass. But of course Vespara’s not the type to take rejection well. She doesn’t get what she wants? She attacks with terrible curses and destroys your home. In only a few weeks, Caer Valor was nothing but smoke and rubble, and my parents took me and fled to Paragon Bay, to seek the protection of the White Coven. And that’s five minutes.”

“What?” Monkaya blinked.

“The tea. Can’t let it steep too long, or it ruins the flavour.” Holly turned back to the still-steaming mugs, fished the tea bags out and discarded them. “Anyway, this is where Countess Duskvale enters the story.”

“Oooh!” Monkaya perked up. “You mean you’re finally going to tell me who that is?”

“Yep. Countess Lucinda Duskvale of Varnagard.” Holly grimaced. “Lady of Seven Estates, Chairwoman of the Tir’Galdur Restoration Council. The kind who praises you with flowery speeches while quietly plotting to stab you in the back.” She handed one of the steaming tea mugs to Monkaya. “And, it just so happened, at the time the Countess had recently given birth to a baby daughter of her own — Davinia Duskvale. And so when my parents and I fled the country, Vespara went to see the Countess.” 

“She offered her the same deal, gave the same speech about Fate, Destiny, and untold power and wealth… if only she’d let her borrow her daughter for a ritual. And of course the Countess, mother of the year, was happy to agree.”

“And so Vespara got her vessel,” said Monkaya, blowing on the tea and taking a careful sip. “Vessel-para?”

Holly stifled a giggle. “Let’s stick to calling her Davinia. Vespara performed the ritual, and the little darling ended up with a cute little mark on her belly… not a lucky flame mark like this one —” (she motioned to her own belly) “— but a neat, orderly, six-leaf starflower all around her bellybutton. The mark of a proper vessel.

“But Vespara was seething. Sure, she’d got what she wanted… but the fact that she didn’t get her first choice nagged at her. My parents had defied her, and I was ‘the one that got away.’ And that was a huge blow to her ego. So she decided that, while preparing her grand takeover of the Tir’Galdur throne, she’d keep an eye on events in Paragon Bay. If something ever happened that would take the White Coven’s attention off my parents and me, she would strike.”

Holly took a sip of her tea before continuing: “Five years later, she got her chance. Can you guess what happened then?”

“No?” said Monkaya, but almost immediately understanding dawned on her face. “Oh, wait, yes. Of course. The Blackstone Invasion!”

“Got it in one,” said Holly. “Demons invaded Paragon Bay, all the heroes and most of the villains had their hands full fighting them — and White Sorceress died. In all the confusion, Vespara managed to sneak into the city and kidnap me.” She removed her glasses and started cleaning them. “I don’t remember any of it. I was five years old, and the thoughtful Queen hit me with a sleep spell so I slept through the entire thing. She took me underground to start the ritual… the same ritual she’d used to bind Davinia to her… to make me her second vessel.”

“But she didn’t need a second vessel… did she?”

“Of course she didn’t! It was all a matter of principle! But she was interrupted. My parents tracked her down, and when she was in the middle of the ritual they found her and attacked her. I don’t know exactly what happened… but keep in mind that a demon invasion was still going on, and some really powerful magics were in play. Apparently, things got really chaotic and all the different magics backfired. 

“I’m glad I was asleep for that… it must have been a gruesome sight. Vespara’s body disintegrated, and my parents both died.” 

Monkaya winced. “Your parents…. I’m sor —”

“Don’t.” Holly fixed Monkaya with a look. “Don’t say you’re sorry that my parents died. Everyone says they’re sorry when they find out about my parents. And they get even sorrier when I say that I don’t even remember my parents!” 

“You don’t remember —”

“I don’t remember anything from before I was five. That botched ritual wiped my memory completely… I woke up in the hospital two days later and had no idea where I was, or who I was, or where I’d got this.” She motioned to her flame mark. “My aunt and uncle took me in and told me what my name was, but I never remembered my parents. That’s why I don’t miss them. I don’t care what that stupid song says, you can’t miss someone you’ve never met! So do both of us a favour and stop thinking of me as the poor little orphan who cries over her parents.”

“I’m sor — surprised at that information,” Monkaya caught herself. And then hurried to add: “So what about Vespara? If her body was gone, that would mean her soul went straight into the body of that other girl, the Countess’s daughter… Davinia?” 

Holly nodded, relieved to move on with the story. “Vespara’s soul immediately entered Davinia’s body. She was five years old at the time, just like me.”

“And so you have an evil Queen in the body of a five year old girl. Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Well… at first nobody actually knew what had happened,” said Holly. “I told you that Vespara was patient, right? She was planning to live forever anyway, what would she care if a plan took a few years or even decades? And she must’ve realized she couldn’t do much while she was stuck in a little kid’s body… so she lay low, hid in Davinia’s mind, and she waited. She’d let her vessel grow up and become powerful, and ‘guide’ her towards greatness before she took over properly. 

“Davinia didn’t know what was going on. She only knew Vespara as a voice in her head… a friendly voice that was constantly telling her how special she was. Feeding her ego for all it was worth. No wonder she grew up to be so insufferable.” Holly tried not to make a face.

“The making of a supervillainess,” said Monkaya. “Or at least a narcissist. So what happened when you met her? You did meet her, right?”

“Yes, but not until years later,” said Holly. “I grew up here in Paragon Bay with my uncle and aunt, and I didn’t know anything about Tir’Galdur or Vespara. When I was ten, I found out that my flame mark made me impossibly lucky if I kept it uncovered… but I just thought it was one of those Blackstone Invasion things. Lots of kids got weird powers during that invasion.”

“I know. I was one of them.” Monkaya flicked her tail demonstratively. “I was born during that invasion. Some demon thought it would be funny to curse my pregnant mother, and she went into labour and I was born like this. Joke’s on the demon, though… I like having a tail.”

“I went to school with a girl who could see fifteen seconds into the future,” said Holly. “And a boy who could make chocolate taste like broccoli. And another girl who could make her ass grow as big or small as she wanted. Compared to that, a luck mark wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Of course, by the time I was eleven I was banned from all casinos and lotteries in the city, but by then our family had already become rich. We moved to a fancy house in Crystal Seas, and my aunt and uncle opened a successful beachside nightclub….”

“Oh, yeah… The Rogue’s Gallery, right?” said Monkaya. “I always thought it was a bit of a risky move to open a supervillain-themed nightclub here in Paragon Bay, but…”

Holly shrugged. “The tourists like it. And no villains have ever complained, at least that I know. So for the next six years, everything was peaceful… then I turned seventeen. And that’s when Evershade contacted me.” Holly looked down at her tea mug and then began moving towards the living room again. “Come on, I’ll show you the picture of Evershade.”

 

The picture of Evershade was on the opposite wall from the Location Map, right above the couch.

It depicted a massive, ancient tree rising into a starry night sky, its vast trunk supporting a network of buildings and pointed towers nestled among its branches. Warm golden light glowed from countless windows, and a soft, luminous path of swirling magic had wound upward around the trunk, guiding the eye from the arched entrance at the base all the way to the highest rooftops. 

“The Tree of Eternity,” said Holly. “Evershade University of the Arcane Arts was built in and around it. Robyn, Harlan and I all went to that university… it was where we all met.”

She paused. This picture had hung on the wall for two years (Robyn had insisted on the picture, as ‘a reminder of home’), and had really just become part of the background… but looking closely at it now, she remembered how overwhelmed she had been at the sight of the unusual university the first time she arrived there. 

Just for a moment, she could imagine what things might have been like if Tir’Galdur and Evershade had actually been the country of wonder and amazement that the brochures promised, instead of the cesspit of elitism, corruption and systematic oppression that reality delivered.

“I’ve seen that picture over at Coven’s Refuge,” said Monkaya, yanking her back to the here and now. “You know when I was a kid, I used to dream about climbing that tree. It looks a lot more fun to climb than Westwood Tower.”

“You’ve tried to climb Westwood Tow — you know what, never mind.” Holly shook her head. “So… Evershade University of the Arcane Arts. The most prestigious school of magic in the world, and the very heart of the kingdom of Tir’Galdur. This is where the ruling classes all go to study magic.”

Monkaya tilted her head, her tail flicking. “You mean all the rulers of Tir’Galdur are magic-users?”

“Of course,” said Holly. “They have to be. Because in Tir’Galdur society, if you don’t have magic you’re nobody. A mundane. A mundie.” She couldn’t help but grimace when speaking that word. “That’s why it’s mandatory for Tir’Galdur nobility to attend Evershade. And it’s why I, at the age of seventeen, got a call from the Head Administrator of the Dean’s Circle. Lady Saphira Grimwood.”

Monkaya giggled. “Grimwood?” 

“Trust me, she deserves the name. Actually, no… that’s harsh. She did help me out a few times.” Holly sighed. “She’s just a product of Tir’Galdur elitism. If there’s one thing they like more than Fate and Destiny, it’s magic and bloodlines. So the noble class rules, non-noble sorcerers and wizards get as much respect as they’re willing to fight for, bards are only good for entertainment and sex, and mundies are good for nothing.” 

“Okay, harsh!”

“Yep. But that’s Lady Saphira’s attitude in a nutshell. She really didn’t want to admit someone like me, who was practically a foreigner… but since I technically counted as a Tir’Galdur noblewoman —” 

“— you had to attend,” said Monkaya, nodding in understanding. “They’re not very big on personal freedom there, are they?”

“Not when they can make endless speeches on Fate and Destiny and sacred bloodlines, no,” said Holly. “So at seventeen, I had to catch a plane to Tir’Galdur, move into the student dorms at Evershade, and become a Sorcery student. 

“I met Davinia on our first day at Evershade. I didn’t know who she was at the time, and she didn’t know who I was… but Vespara, lurking in her head, recognized me at once, and she was seething at the sight of ‘the one who’d got away’. And of course Davinia wasn’t about to waste time being civil to someone the voice in her head didn’t like.”

“Not exactly the basis for a long and lasting friendship,” Monkaya commented. “But at least you had Robyn and Harlan, right?”

“Mm… Harlan was from Paragon Bay too, he got in on recommendation from Count Ravenwood and went straight into Wizardry. Robyn was my roommate. Lowly commoner with no noble blood… and a Bardic student, of course. Normally even a minor noblewoman like me wouldn’t have been rooming with someone like her. But Lady Saphira wasn’t about to let a filthy foreigner sully the nobles’ living quarters.”

“Ouch.”

“But luckily Robyn and I became friends anyway… When I first moved into the Bardic dorms, Robyn was there and one of the first things she said to me was ‘just a warning; I don’t snore but I sometimes recite dirty limericks in my sleep’… I knew we’d get along.”

Holly had to pause again at that point, because another memory was suddenly overwhelming her… the memory of Robyn’s parents and siblings, saying goodbye at the Tir’Galdur airport when Robyn was moving with Holly to Paragon Bay… they’d asked her to take good care of their girl. She hadn’t been doing a very good job of that. 

“…are you okay?” said Monkaya.

“I’m fine.” Holly went up to the couch and carefully moved aside a pile of blankets and pillows to sit down, careful not to spill any of her tea. “So, Robyn and I shared a room. Didn’t take too many months before we were fucking. Somewhere along the line, Harlan joined in and we ended up as a threesome… being with them was the best part of being at Evershade.” 

Monkaya flopped down on the couch next to her, without bothering to move any of the pillows, and still somehow managing not to spill her tea. “We’ll get her back,” she said softly. “As soon as Harlan comes out of the bedroom, we’ll think of a plan to get her back. You know I’ll do everything I can to help, right?”

“Yes… I know. Thank you.” Holly took a large sip of tea and let out a long breath, before looking at her cell phone to check the time. It hadn’t been half an hour yet — she’d better give Harlan a bit more time. Taking a long breath, she continued: “So anyway, one night when we were both horny, Robyn couldn’t find her dildo, and so she stuck a magic flute in my pussy.”

This time Monkaya almost did spill her tea, but she managed to keep the mug upright. “She — hold on! Was that the same flute that —”

“The very same flute,” said Holly, and felt a little better. “But that comes in later.”

She leaned back on the couch and took another, rather smaller, sip of tea. “See, it was at the end of our third year at Evershade that Vespara, still in Davinia’s head, decided that she’d waited long enough. Davinia was twenty years old then; her body was strong and her magic was powerful.”

“Now, if you read the history books, or if you talk to Tir’Galdur nobles like Countess Duskvale… they’ll tell you that Vespara finally took over Davinia’s body and immediately took over Evershade, turning all the staff and students into her slaves and hostages to make sure that the nobility wouldn’t hinder her from her grand return to the throne. Then she put an elaborate curse on the entire country that would isolate the entire kingdom of Tir’Galdur and hinder anyone from going to the outside world for help… you’ve seen that curse in action.”

“So that’s why it’s called Vespara’s Curse!” said Monkaya.

“Exactly. She used it on a much larger scale, mind. But the result was the same: We were alone and couldn’t count on anyone else to come and save us.

“Then, the history books go on to say, Vespara invaded the capital, killed the reigning Queen Cordelia, and set herself on the throne again. And that for months, the Chosen One, who had managed to lead a small group of students to safety, fought a guerilla war for freedom from the shadows. Until the Big Battle of Evershade, where that very same Chosen One finally finished the Dark Queen off with a secret weapon.” 

“That… would be the magic flute dildo.”

“Yes, but the history books leave out that detail too.” Holly took a deep breath. “What really happened was that I got lucky.” 

She motioned to her flame mark. “Turned out that as long as I kept it uncovered it not only made me lucky…it made me immune to Vespara’s magic. Mind control spells, attack spells, transformation spells… long as she was the one who cast it, it didn’t affect me at all. And if I got too close to her, her hold on Davinia started to weaken. Davinia would start to fight back and try to regain control over her body…”

“…and so you shoved a magic flute up her pussy.”

“Yes, but… it was a little more complicated than that.” 

“How much more complicated are we talking?”

“Well, what happened was that when Vespara-in-Davinia’s-body began taking over Evershade and turning staff and students into her mindless slaves, Lady Saphira — Miss Proper herself — led a group of students to safety. And I was among those students.

“I’ll give Lady Saphira that much,” Holly admitted grudgingly. “She was haughty and arrogant, and she hated me, but she did get us out of the school and to safety. She knew all the secret passageways in and out of the school, and she was in good with the dryads in the groves, who helped shield us the best they could. That is, until they succumbed to Vespara’s mind control and became her mindless slaves as well. 

“But by that time we’d already escaped and were in hiding. Hid out at the place of an old friend of my mother’s, and began planning a way to defeat Vespara. And this is where the ‘guerilla war’ part starts.” 

“So… there was a guerilla war.” said Monkaya. “I thought that was just the history books talking.”

“No, there was one. Kind of. We hid out for months and tried to strike where we could… but really, what we mainly did was work on a spell to free Davinia from Vespara’s control. Or really, Harlan and Saphira and the others worked on it. But it very quickly became clear that if it was going to work, it had to be me who cast the spell. You know, since my presence already weakened Vespara’s hold. Battle magic had never been my thing, but Harlan managed to create a spell tag.” 

“Spell tag?”

“You haven’t seen spell tags? They’re like small sticky notes with spells embedded into them. Handy to have a few of them prepared when you’re out in the field, especially if you’re not good with battle magic. All I had to do was take the spell tag Harlan created, and slap it onto Davinia… and, combined with the energy of my flame mark, that would push Vespara’s spirit out of her.”

Holly drank the last of her tea and put the mug down on the cluttered table. “There was a small problem, though… turns out Countess Duskvale is very good with illusion magic.”

“Countess Duskvale again!”’ said Monkaya. “I did wonder what had happened to her. She’d been quiet for a bit.”

“That’s her style — vanishing in the background until she sees her chance,” said Holly. “She claims that she was one of Vespara’s mind-controlled slaves at that time and that she couldn’t break free for fear of hurting her daughter… I don’t buy it. The Countess had an extremely cushy position as ‘Queen Mother’ and Vespara’s closest ally. If her daughter had to be a slave for that to happen, well, she wasn’t going to argue. And she wasn’t going to let someone like me ruin a good thing for her.

“I got careless. I admit that. I was starting to depend too much on my luck and on the fact that I was immune to Vespara’s magic. I didn’t expect Countess Duskvale to use her illusions to make a corset appear on me..”

“A corset?”

“Black leather corset. It covered up my flame mark, and that was the end of my luck and my immunity to Vespara’s magic. Before I knew it, I was hit with a powerful mind control spell and within seconds I was her mindless slave.” Holly looked over at Monkaya. “See what I mean about not relying too much on luck?”

“Uh… yeah. So what happened? Did Vespara try to kill you?”

Holly shook her head. “Not her style. Why kill when you can conquer and control? Besides, she was still hoping to use me as a spare vessel.”

“Could she even do that? I mean, with your flame mark?”

“That was just it. The mark didn’t interfere with her magic when it was covered up, but the fact that I had it made it impossible for her to do the ritual again. So she kept me close, hoping to crack the code. Dressed me up in a real corset so that the Countess wouldn’t have to keep the illusion going, and then took me back to Evershade to keep me as her mindless pet. I was completely under her control for… I don’t even remember how long. You know how it is with that type of mind control; time kind of loses all meaning.”

“That’s why it’s always a good idea to check the time and date when you wake up,” said Monkaya.”So what happened? How did you get from ‘Vespara’s mindless slave’ to ‘fucking her with a magic dildo flute’?”

“Well, Harlan and Robyn and the others launched a rescue,” said Holly. “With the help of Lady Saphira they managed to sneak into Evershade. The dryads were still under Vespara’s mind control, but Robyn managed to temporarily free them by playing her magic flute — yes, it was the same flute, thanks for asking,” Holly added before Monkaya could say anything. “We’re getting to it.”

“Okay, okay!” Monkaya put down her empty tea mug.

“So the dryads managed to regain their senses for long enough to let a small group of people through into Evershade… and before they slid back under Vespara’s control, they did something that seemed really weird at the time, but turned out to be what saved us all.”

“What?”

“They hit everyone in the school — Harlan and Robyn, the staff and students, Vespara in Davinia’s body, and me — with a forced nudity curse. All of a sudden, everyone was completely naked. And,” she added with a pointed look at Monkaya, “what happens when I get naked?”

“Oh! Your flame mark is exposed!” 

“Yep. And Vespara was too distracted by her own sudden nudity to immediately cover it up. If she’d been a little quicker realizing it… but luckily, she wasn’t. My flame mark started messing with Davinia’s starflower mark, and Davinia began fighting Vespara for control. 

“While Vespara was struggling, Robyn and Harlan made their way towards us, snapped me out of the mind control, and gave me the spell tag. I was confused… I barely remembered anything that happened while I was under Vespara’s control, and I had no idea why I was naked… but I remembered the plan. And so, while Vespara and Davinia fought, I slapped that spell tag right onto her belly! And then…” Holly made a dramatic pause.

“And then?!” 

“It didn’t work.”

Monkaya boggled. “It didn’t work?!”

“Vespara’s hold on Davinia was too strong. Remember, she’d lived in the girl’s head since she was five. Even with the flame mark, even with the spell, even with Davinia doing her best to fight… Vespara kept hanging on. Only by a magical thread, but she was hanging on. Enough for her to pin me down and cover up my flame mark with her hand while she launched a counterattack!” 

“Noooo!” Monkaya wailed. “Isn’t that just like a villain?! You think you have them beat, and then… WHAMMO! They’re back on top!”

“Actually…” Holly couldn’t help but smile at the monkey-girl’s indignation. “It wasn’t quite a WHAMMO. With Davinia still fighting, and my flame mark interfering, she didn’t have full control. So what she intended to be a new mind control spell, was twisted… and became an intense lust spell. And all of a sudden, everyone was too horny to think… that is, all we could think about was fucking.”

“Wait… even Vespara?!” 

“Even Vespara! And the courtyard around us was turning into an orgy. Professors, students, rebels, dryads… everyone was fucking wildly. Robyn and Harlan were immediately banging each other like their lives were depending on it. And I…” here Holly made another dramatic pause. “I was too horny to think, but I was still lucky. Because I was right next to Vespara, and all I wanted to do was fuck her… and there, right next to me was Robyn’s flute, which Robyn had dropped when Harlan slammed into her… and so, I didn’t even think. I grabbed the flute… the magic flute, filled with Bardic magic…”

Monkaya stifled a giggle. “And then you shoved it right up her possessed cunt!”

Holly nodded in satisfaction. “And that — combined with the flame mark, the fighting Davinia, the lust spell, and the spell tag — was the final push that was needed to banish Vespara from Davinia. And as I fucked her with the flute, guess where Vespara’s spirit ended up?” 

“No!” Monkaya was still giggling. “She ended up in the flute?!”

Holly nodded. “You could say she changed vessels… just not in the way she’d hoped.”

“Hah!”

“And that,” said Holly, “was that. With Vespara trapped and helpless, her hold on everyone broke. The orgy died down as we came to our senses and realized what had happened. 

“Davinia was completely traumatized, and some of the mind control victims weren’t much better… it took some time before anyone had the strength to celebrate. But Vespara was defeated, and Tir’Galdur was free. 

“We couldn’t destroy the flute; that would just free Vespara’s spirit and she’d try to possess Davinia again. Or some other unsuspecting girl. And I wasn’t about to leave it in Tir’Galdur. So I took the flute with me back to Paragon Bay and gave it to the White Coven. Now it’s locked up in a secret vault in Coven’s Refuge. Vespara’s not getting out of that any time soon.” She glanced at the bedroom door. “So that’s the story… and Harlan’s still not done figuring out the phone call. I’ll give him ten more minutes and then I’m dragging him out.” 

There was a small pause as Monkaya seemed to digest everything she’d been told. 

She looked up at the picture of Evershade, then back at Holly. “You left out an important part of the story, though,” she said. 

“I did?”

“Yeah — the part where you were declared the new Queen of Tir’Galdur and you said no.”

“Well… you already knew that part,” said Holly. “You just told it yourself. The nobles of Tir’Galdur declared that I was obviously the true Chosen One, and would henceforth be the Queen. And I told them no.”

“Yeah, but you never really said why you turned down the throne,” said Monkaya.

“Because Tir’Galdur’s rotten to the core!” Holly glared at the monkey-girl. “Haven’t you realized that yet?! Sure, it’s a nice place to visit if you don’t look too closely at how things are actually run. But with all the elitism, the disdain for anyone who isn’t magic, the fucking obsession with Chosen Ones and bloodlines…!”

“But —”

“Besides, I know Countess Duskvale. Soon as Vespara was defeated, she pretended to have been mind-controlled the entire time. Thanked me profoundly for having ‘saved poor Davinia from that fake Queen’ and before anyone could look too closely at her involvement in this mess, she had started championing me as the new Chosen Queen of Tir’Galdur.”

“Okay, but —” 

“Even fucking Lady Saphira said it. She told me that even though I was a minor noblewoman, being the Chosen One proved that I was worthy, and that I should just embrace my destiny, take the throne and rule. Do you see the problem here? Nobody fucking learned anything! All that, and they still tried to sell that stupid ‘destiny’ idea!”

“But if you did become Queen,” said Monkaya. “Maybe you could change things up?”

Holly shook her head. “You can’t fix a rotten system by switching out the person on top. The moment I sat down on the throne, I’d be trapped. A tool of the system, just like any other well-meaning idiot who thinks they can change systems from the inside. Why do you think Countess Duskvale’s so eager to have me as a Queen? It’s because I’d be so easy to turn into a puppet. There to smile and wave and be popular for the masses while she pulls the strings from the shadows.”

“Aw, it wouldn’t have to be like that,” said Monkaya.

“Yes, it would,” said Holly. “Look… you don’t get what the nobles of Tir’Galdur are like. I suppose you’ll need to have lived there to get it. I lived there for almost five years, and I still don’t entirely get it. Countess Duskvale’s lived in that damn country all her life; she knows all the little rules, the political nuances, the unspoken laws of the nobility that you have to start practicing when you’re a baby… puppeteering and manipulation is second nature to these people. Nobody with good intentions sends creepy Conductors to kidnap their future Queen’s girlfriend in order to force her to take the throne!” She took a huge breath to calm down, and removed her glasses to clean them again. 

When she was certain she was calm again, she went on: “I tried working around it, you know. Before I gave up and left. I tried to establish some more democracy… proposed to set up a similar system to what we have here in Paragon Bay, with elected Chancellors and everything. But nobody was interested. They wanted a Chosen One and a Queen.

“So I gave up. I told those fucking nobles to get lost and moved back to Paragon Bay. Harlan and Robyn came with me, and we settled here in Mystic Grove. Harlan and I started up this ‘witch-for-hire’ business, Robyn’s trying to break into the entertainment sphere… it’s not like we want for money, since my luck mark keeps us covered, but it’s nice to have something that’s just ours. 

“I’m not saying Paragon Bay is perfect. With all the supervillain attacks, the sex slavery, the corruption… but at least here we don’t have to be Chosen Ones. Or pretend that bloodlines make you superior, or that ‘destiny’ is anything but lies and propaganda.” 

Monkaya leaned back, tail flicking thoughtfully, and then said: “So what’s your plan?”

Holly slid her glasses back on. “Well… first step: wait for Harlan to finish decoding that phone call, then get Robyn back before they sell her into slavery.”

“Sure, but I meant after that.”

“I don’t know. Maybe weave so many protection spells into Robyn’s clothes that anyone who even thinks about kidnapping her gets hit with a dozen curses.”

“Sounds weirdly controlling, but okay.” Monkaya picked up a crumpled napkin from the table and started folding it into a rough bird shape. “But I meant… You haven’t really solved anything, have you? The system you hated is still there, and… that Countess Duskvale person’s going to keep trying to get you back.”

Holly hesitated. In truth, Monkaya wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t already said to herself… but one thing was to think to yourself that you may have acted hastily, another thing entirely was to have it thrown in your face like this.

“Supervillains keep coming back too,” she finally pointed out. “But you superheroes don’t give up on fighting them.”

“Exactly!” Monkaya said brightly. “Supervillains are like… like house fires, right? No matter how careful you are, no matter how much money you spend on fire safety campaigns… sooner or later, someone’s gonna be careless, and then all of a sudden the building’s on fire, and then you just have to put it out! And that’s supervillains — we can’t completely stop them from showing up, so we just have to deal with them when they do.”

“Your simile needs work.”

“I thought it was clever!” Monkaya looked critically at her napkin bird, which, to be completely honest, was never going to win any beauty pageant for birds, and put it down on the table. “Point is… you can’t control villains, they’ll show up no matter what. But maybe you could fix Tir’Galdur.”

“By being a puppet queen? Or by going back and starting a revolution that’s just going to end with a lot of people dead… and then those idiots return to the old system and tell themselves everything is okay because now there are good people in charge? No thanks.”

“Isn’t that just giving up?”

“Maybe it is,” said Holly. “But there are battles you can’t win.”

Harlan put down the phone, thinking everything over one last time.

Yes… that had to be the answer. It explained everything. It even almost (if he was being very generous) explained why the Conductor thought the name ‘The Silent Choir’ was appropriate to use, even if it probably was more about theatrics than anything else.

The plan had formed in his head almost instantly. It was simple, and it would probably work… but he didn’t look forward to telling Holly about it.

Harlan was aware that people who didn’t know him well often thought he was cold and distant, caring more about magic, detailed plans and random trivia than he cared about people. This wasn’t true at all, though… he loved Holly and Robyn and hated the thought of them being in danger. But the world was a dangerous place, and sometimes you had to just accept that. And sometimes you had to risk something or even someone for the chance of saving everyone.

It didn’t mean he liked it, though.

Oh well. Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he opened the bedroom door and walked back out into the living room, where Holly and Monkaya were sitting on the couch.

“I managed to figure out the answers to —” he began. Then, catching Holly’s expression, he cut himself off with, “You look agitated. Did something happen while I was gone?”

“No,” Holly said quickly. “I’m fine.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “Do you mean ‘fine’ as in actually fine, or is this one of those times when ‘fine’ means you’re going to get angry and start yelling at me if I keep asking about it?”

“Just… fine,” she repeated. “Let’s focus on you. What did you find out?”

Harlan hesitated for a moment, but then decided to let it go. “Well, I have good news and bad news. I’ll tell you the good news first and the bad news second.”

“…okay.” Holly clearly braced herself.

“The good news is I’m almost completely sure I’ve figured out the Conductor’s deal. I think I know who the Conductor is, and more importantly, I know what their trap is likely to be… and how we can get Robyn back without the White Coven or any other help.”

“And the bad news?” said Holly.

“The bad news is…” He paused. “I have a plan.”

Monkaya cocked her head and looked at him. “Why’s that bad news?”

“Because,” said Harlan, “when I tell you what the plan is, neither of you is going to like it.”

For most magic-users, teleportation was tricky. If you didn’t calculate exactly where you wanted to end up, you could miss the mark by several kilometers — and when you lived on an island, that could easily mean a swim you hadn’t planned on.

For Holly and her lucky flame mark, however, it was easier. She might not land precisely where she intended, but she’d almost always end up where she needed to be. Or at least she always ended up on solid ground.

The first thing she noticed when she materialized, even before she opened her eyes, was the wind whipping around her. Then the smell hit her nostrils – a not altogether unpleasant mix of salt, oil and rust that better than any visuals told her she was down by the docks of Northern Bayfront. 

She opened her eyes, adjusted her glasses and saw that she was standing on a tall rooftop, overlooking a rather shabby area of large warehouses. Most were built of corrugated metal, and had been painted in bright and cheerful colours by overly optimistic city planners and dock workers. Now the colours were faded and the paint was peeling, metal rusted and concrete foundations had cracks with weeds pushing through.

The City Council was always talking about cleaning up areas like these, but it never happened — probably because they were too convenient for shady businesses and supervillain hideouts. 

“Okay, Harlan,” she murmured. “I’m in place.”

“You’re certain you have the right warehouse?” Harlan’s voice came from her earpiece. 

“One hundred percent. Even with this insane plan, my flame mark wouldn’t let me end up anywhere else.”

“I did tell you you wouldn’t like the plan.”

“And you were absolutely right. Unfortunately we don’t have the time to come up with a better one. Tell Monkaya to stay in position.”

“She knows the plan. Have a little faith in her. If the plan goes wrong, it’s far more likely to be my fault than Monkaya’s.”

“That’s comforting,” Holly muttered.

“From your tone of voice, I’m going to assume that was sarcasm. Okay, there should be a door. All the warehouses in Bayfront have rooftop access, either for maintenance purposes or for emergency exits if someone needs to be rescued by a flying super.”

Holly looked around, and there it was: a rusty metal door, set into a small, boxy structure at the edge of the roof. “Found it,” she said. 

“Good! The moment you go in, there’ll have to be radio silence. If I haven’t heard from you after fifteen minutes, I’ll assume the plan’s failed and that you need backup.”

“Give me twenty, just to be on the safe side.” Holly tried the handle, but of course it was locked. Not that it really mattered; all she needed was a door, and here it was. 

She took off her hat and reached into it to pull out her trusty magical remote, which she then aimed at the door. With the click of a button, the door immediately turned into a lifting garage door, sliding up towards the roof and revealing a metal stairwell that clung tightly to the narrow walls, spiraling downward into shadow. 

Taking a deep breath, she stashed the remote into her pocket, along with the earpiece. Now she was cut off. She put her hat back on, making sure she was wearing it back to front, so that the invisibility spells would activate. She hated being invisible (she always started feeling vaguely nauseous if she stayed under the spell for too long), but sometimes it couldn’t be helped.

“Here goes…” she breathed before stepping through the opening. The door slid shut behind her, turning back into a normal door.

The air inside was thick with dust, metal, and the slightly damp chill of a building that hadn’t seen regular maintenance in years.

Holly walked down the stairwell, being careful not to make too much noise. At the bottom of the stairs, she found another door with a long-dead emergency light hanging above it. She pushed it open (breathing a sigh of relief when it didn’t squeak) and stepped out onto a narrow metal platform suspended high above the warehouse floor.

The space beyond was massive. Rows of rusting shelves filled the far half of the warehouse, stacked with rotted tarps, dented crates, and machinery that hadn’t run in years. Skylights dotted the arched roof, most of them cracked and dirty. Light streamed through in long beams, catching the dust in the air and lighting up small patches of the warehouse floor like faint spotlights. The walls were lined with old catwalks — narrow, steel-framed paths barely wide enough for two people to pass each other. Some looked sturdy, others bent in places where the supports had come loose. Heavy-duty hooks still hung from overhead rails, along with coils of forgotten wiring and chains that swayed faintly in the cross-drafts.

From her vantage point, Holly scanned the floor below. 

There they were… maybe fifteen people, all dressed in deep indigo robes with a blank, featureless white mask. They stood completely still, in a half-circle formation, facing a figure in a black robe and a gold mask. She’d found the Silent Choir… and the Conductor. They were all standing completely still; not one of them moved. From this distance she couldn’t even tell if they were breathing. It was like looking down on a cult-themed display from a wax museum.

And there, between Choir and Conductor… Robyn. But not just Robyn. Holly stopped dead in her tracks when she saw what was going on.

It was Robyn, but she was currently in a wild and naked threesome with two other naked people… Holly blinked as she recognized Lyra and Lysander from Evershade. All three of them were naked and fucking… but their movements were stiff and mechanical, their expression blank and doll-like…. 

Holly forced herself to stay calm. She’d been expecting it. Well, she hadn’t expected Lyra and Lysander, but in a way their presence fit perfectly with Harlan’s deductions. This was going to make everything a little harder, but she had to try… and hope that the plan held.

She had a rough path mapped out already. The catwalk she stood on continued toward the eastern wall, connecting with an old observation deck. From there, a rusted maintenance ladder led to the floor behind an overturned forklift and a cluster of broken crates. 

She moved carefully across the catwalk, one step at a time, checking each section of metal before putting her full weight down. The steel groaned faintly underfoot, but not loud enough to echo.

Below her, the fucking continued, and the rest of the Silent Choir remained utterly still. No shifts. No murmurs. No sign that they were enjoying or objecting to or even noticing the free sex show. Were they even alive? Or were they in deep trances, like Robyn, Lyra and Lysander seemed to be? In any case, Holly was pretty certain that if she made too much noise, they would spring to life… so here, a distraction would be needed.

She reached the end of the catwalk and crouched by the broken railing. 

Okay. Even invisible, she wasn’t about to walk straight into a crowd of robed cultists. Not without drawing their attention somewhere else first. And she couldn’t take off her hat to retrieve the really useful trinkets… not without breaking the invisibility spell and risk discovery. Luckily, she had a few neat things in her coat pockets as well. 

She reached into one of the pockets and pulled out one of her spell-charged marbles. She whispered the trigger word and threw the marble as hard as she could towards the far wall. It flew through the air and struck the floor on the other side of the room, where it shattered into the loud, sharp sound of breaking glass and splintered wood.

Robyn, Lyra and Lysander just kept fucking as if nothing had happened, but several masked heads turned toward the far wall. Good. They were aware enough to notice noise, at least.

“Sopranos one through four, tenors one and two — go see what that was.” Holly recognized the Conductor’s voice from the phone. Six of the indigo-robed figured moved, silently, towards the part of the room the noise had come from.

Holly didn’t hesitate. She moved across the catwalk and reached the rusty ladder within seconds. The metal rungs were cold and slightly greasy, but she kept her grip steady as she climbed down, her boots landing softly on the floor. 

She was down on the floor, and less than ten Choir members were between her and Robyn.

Holly moved with care, weaving through the silent figures like a ghost. None of them turned. None reacted. Holding her breath, she edged around them… one by one…

And then she was there. Robyn, Lyra and Lysander were close enough to touch.

Up close, the sight was worse. Her girlfriend’s eyes were open and vacant, staring into space as she bounced up and down on Lysander’s hard cock. Her skin was pale, her expression blank, and she didn’t seem to be aware of her surroundings at all.

“Robyn…” Holly whispered. No response. 

A sudden, chilling voice sounded: “You know, invisibility doesn’t work on me.”

Holly froze.

The Conductor had turned, their gold mask gleaming faintly in the dusty light. Their movements were slow, deliberate, as if they had been waiting for this moment all along.

“I can see you, Lady Blackthorne,” the Conductor continued, taking a step forward. “So predictable. I knew you would use your impressive luck to find this warehouse, and that you would try to rescue your little girlfriend… but did you really think it would be that easy? That you could just snatch her and fade into the night?”

“Of course not — it’s not even noon yet!” Holly spun her hat around to end the invisibility spell (no point in keeping that up now) while her other hand went to the spell tags sewn into the lining of her coat. She ripped one loose and hurled it towards the Conductor. The tag flared with golden light and shot forward like a comet. The Conductor hastily threw up a dark and smoky shield, but the spell struck it hard enough to send them sliding a step backward.

“You’re faster than you used to be,” said the Conductor.

“Wow, a compliment from you?” Holly shot back. “Didn’t think you had it in you… Lady Saphira.” 

There was a very brief pause. “What did you call me?”

“Oh, pardon me for not calling you Professor or Administrator or anything like that.” While talking, Holly discreetly reached into her pocket and pulled out a slim rod etched with sigils. “But since I’m not a student at Evershade anymore, I don’t really care.” 

“So, you figured it out.” The Conductor’s voice was measured and calm, but with a slight edge to it.

“Harlan did. Your voice may sound different, but your speech patterns are the same.” Holly clutched the rod, and the sigils glowed red. “So what caused you to throw your lot in with Countess Duskvale? I thought you hated her more than you hated me or Robyn.”

The Conductor raised their… well, her… hand. “I saw the light,” she said. “As you soon will!” With that, she launched a volley of blue-white projectiles of pure magical force that came speeding against Holly. 

She managed to roll aside, the missiles bursting on the concrete behind her. Before the Conductor could launch another volley of projectiles, she slammed the rod into the ground. A ripple of red energy erupted outward in a shockwave. The blast caught the Conductor mid-step and knocked her off balance. 

Holly pressed the advantage, sending a follow-up hex toward her exposed flank.

The Conductor deflected the attack with a sweeping gesture, the energy ricocheting off with a high-pitched hiss as a ring of hot red flames roared up in a circle around Holly. 

Holly took a quick look around; she was completely surrounded by intensely hot flames. The heat struck her like a wall, and the only thing to do was to tear another spell tag off her coat, and throw it into the fire. 

The heat immediately vanished and the flames turned a pleasant green colour. She didn’t even feel slightly warm as she stepped through the green flames, ready with another spell tag. 

But before she could throw it, the Conductor spoke. “Enough of this! Soprano Number Seven, Soprano Number Five, Tenor Number Three — sing!”

Holly’s breath hitched. Behind her, Robyn, Lyra and Lysander paused their fucking and began humming..

It was a quiet hum, low and soft… but thick with magic… and it hit Holly’s brain like a gold-wrapped brick. The tune attacked her thoughts and her senses, engulfing them and drowning out anything else. The world around her was suddenly slipping away, engulfed by the hum… there was only the hum… nothing existed except the… 

“No!” She raised her hands, trying to cover her ears; anything to keep the hum out. The rod fell to the ground, and the spell in her grip fizzled out as she stumbled and tried to get back to her feet.

“Yes,” the Conductor hissed. “You can’t resist the hum…. Give up, Lady Blackthorne. I’ve already won.”

“Y-you haven’t… I won’t…” Holly’s knees buckled. She tried to fight the overwhelming hum, tried to focus, but the sound wrapped around her like velvet chains. Her thoughts began to dissolve… the plan… Harlan’s plan… it was going… 

…she was going…

…going to…

…she…

…was so horny…

…pussy so wet…

…clit…

…ahhhhhh….

Her arms fell limply to her sides. The flame mark on her belly pulsed, and her panties were already getting soaked, but she didn’t notice. Everything was blank.

The Conductor gestured again, and the green flames vanished. “Combat magic never was your strong side, was it, Lady Blackthorne?” they said, breath slightly heavy. “You have improved… lasted longer than I thought you would… but you would still have lost in the end. Not that it really matters — nobody can resist the hum of the Silent Choir.”

She walked toward the now silent Holly, who was standing still and unmoving, staring mindlessly ahead.

“The true Queen of Tir’Galdur… reduced to a silent, empty doll,” the Conductor said. “It’s almost like in the old days, isn’t it… when you were Vespara’s mindless doll. But this time your mark can’t save you. We’re not using Vespara’s magic, after all… and no matter how lucky you are, you can’t break this trance. Now… strip.”

Holly obeyed. Her hands moved with slow, mindless efficiency, letting her coat fall to the floor before pulling off her boots, then undoing her top… removing her bra, her pants, her panties… one by one, the garments joined the pile on the floor until she stood there, naked and blank-eyed, as empty as the bards who had fallen before her, wearing only her hat and her glasses.

The Conductor chuckled softly, clearly savoring the moment. “No need to keep your hat on, my mindless Queen… or your glasses. As a puppet Queen you won’t need them. We’ll get you dressed up in some proper Choir robes for the trip back to Tir’Galdur… and when you’re back where you belong, we’ll make sure to put you under the right spells to give you the right obedient personality. You’ll be happy to take up the throne and wear the crown. You’ll make the right proclamations. You’ll smile and wave and attend galas and social events. You’ll be the very picture of regal charm and grace. The public will love you… and the real rulers will love you even more.”

Holly didn’t answer. If she’d still had her mind, she’d have ranted and hurled insults… but there was nothing left in her mind to rant and hurl insults with.

“So take off those ridiculous glasses and that silly hat,” said the Conductor. “Soon enough, you’ll be wearing a regal crown.”

Holly obediently reached for the hat. She lifted it off her head —

— and then, as soon as the hat was off, something shot out of it like a cannonball. A figure with a tail, bare feet and still wearing that t-shirt with WILL SUPERHERO 4 BANANAS! written across the chest, flew against the conductor with a flying kick. 

The Conductor didn’t even have the time to react before the kick connected and they were sent flying backward, crashing into a stack of crates and sliding limply to the floor.

Monkaya landed in a crouch, tail flicking for balance.

“Ta-daaaa!” she cheered. “Who would have thought that Holly would have a monkey in her hat?”

 

“I am Lady Saphira Grimwood, former Head Administrator of the Dean’s Circle at the Evershade University of the Arcane Arts… I remember nothing… I am Lady Saphira Grimwood, former Head Administrator of the Dean’s Circle at the Evershade University of the Arcane Arts… I remember nothing… I am Lady Saphira Grimwood, former Head Administrator of the Dean’s Circle at the Evershade University of the Arcane Arts…”

The woman on the ground lay curled slightly on her side, her voice flat, her eyes dull, her lips moving continuously as if stuck on a single broken thought.

Harlan, who had stepped out of Holly’s hat only moments after Monkaya’s dramatic entrance, stood over her, holding the golden mask in one hand and staring down with a look of resignation.

“Well, my theory proved correct,” he said. “I don’t really feel like celebrating the fact, though.”

Monkaya, still catching her breath from the flying kick she’d just delivered, straightened up and looked between Harlan and the woman on the floor. “Holly told me about her… she was the mean teacher at Evershade that still proved instrumental in saving the day.”

“She was more than that,” said Harlan. “She was the most powerful sorceress on the Evershade staff. She was also one of the biggest traditionalists there… and one of the biggest defenders of the system. She was the one who kept saying that the system was perfectly fine, it just needed someone responsible on top. But, as this definitely proves, power isn’t everything. She’s clearly been brainwashed. I suspected as much. This entire ‘Silent Choir’ setup reeked of something more… artificial. And it looks like I was right. Lady Saphira wasn’t running the show. She was just another pawn.”

“Whose pawn?” said Monkaya. “Vespara’s?”

“I doubt it. The flute with Vespara’s spirit is still securely locked up in the magic vault at Coven’s Refuge. No… I believe Holly was right all along: This is the work of our old friend, Countess Lucinda Duskvale of Varnagard. Hmmm… let’s check her belly.”

He unceremoniously took Lady Saphira’s black robes off. Underneath, she was naked. 

Harlan rolled her over on her back, and as she kept droning “I am Lady Saphira Grimwood, former Head Administrator of the Dean’s Circle at the Evershade University of the Arcane Arts… I remember nothing…” he checked her stomach. And just as he’d thought… there, around her bellybutton, was a mark. Not like Holly’s flame mark or Davinia’s starflower mark; this mark was simply a black circle. It was already fading, though… within a few minutes, he estimated, it would be gone.

“Looks like a mark of control,” he said. “One that fades and vanishes when the control is broken. My guess is that the spell was set to break and leave Lady Saphira with complete memory loss if she was ever defeated and exposed. Of course… Countess Duskvale wouldn’t want any evidence of her involvement.”

“All this just to get Holly on the throne.” Monkaya looked over at Holly, who was still standing frozen and completely naked.

Behind her, Robyn, Lyra and Lysander were frozen like statues, Lysander’s cock still deep in Robyn’s pussy and Robyn’s finger deep in Lyra’s pussy. And behind them again, the rest of the Choir remained equally still, as if locked in place.

“They’re still not moving,” Monkaya said, stepping closer to Holly. She waved a hand in front of her face. “No reaction. Holly? Hello? It’s Monkaya!”

Holly ignored her.

“Your Majesty!” Monkaya tried. “Queen Holly the First of Tir’Galdur! The Chosen One who saved everyone…” She hesitated. “The living proof that power is everything, destiny is inevitable and mundies are second-class citizens! Mundies are sheep who should just accept being ruled and controlled by the superior elite! You should go back to Tir’Galdur and take up the throne!”

Holly still didn’t react.

Monkaya drooped. “Okay,” she said. “If that didn’t get a rise out of her, nothing will.”

“I was afraid of that,” said Harlan, looking at the mindless Holly with a frown… then turning his gaze over to the equally mindless Robyn. “The spell went too deeply. That hum worked straight through to their subconscious. The only reason we weren’t affected was because we couldn’t hear it inside the hat… but Holly and Robyn are completely under its power… as are Lyra and Lysander and every single member of the Silent Choir. It’s Bardic magic, specifically tailored for hypnotic induction… and that kind of enchantment isn’t easily broken. Not by someone like me, anyway.”

“I thought easy spells were easily dispelled.”

“Usually, yes. But Bardic magic plays by different rules. I’m a wizard; my magic is all about rules and research. Bardic magic is more about resonance. Emotion, rhythm, harmony. I have a basic understanding of it, but I’m not trained in it. We’d need an expert in mind control magic, like Count Ravenwood. But I’m hesitant to call on him.”

Monkaya cocked her head. “Why? Do you think Vespara’s Curse is still active?”

“No, the curse would have broken as soon as Countess Duskvale’s hold on Lady Saphira did. That’s not the problem here.”

“Right,” said Monkaya. “The problem is how to get fifteen cultists, three naked girls, one naked guy, and one babbling villain over to Mystic Grove, when they’re impersonating statues like this. We couldn’t get them all on a bus, and there’s not a single teleport circle in sight. I suppose Holly doesn’t have a hovertruck or something like that stashed in her hat?”

“Not that I’m aware,” said Harlan. “Getting them there isn’t the problem, though. At least not if my theory’s right.” 

“What theory?”

“Well, let’s test it out.” Harlan straightened out the Conductor’s black robes, running a hand over them. “No enchantments on the cloak that I can sense… there is one on the mask, but that appears to be a simple voice-change charm… it should be safe.” With that he pulled the robes on over his clothes, and then put on the golden mask..

“Can you even see in that thing?” said Monkaya. “I mean, there aren’t even any eyeholes…”

“It’s actually transparent from the inside.” Harlan’s voice sounded exactly like the Conductor’s; deep, husky and androgynous.  “Testing, testing. Silent Choir, obey your Conductor!”

The effect was immediate. Every member of the Silent Choir — including Holly, and including Robyn, Lyra and Lysander — turned toward him in eerie unison. Their heads bowed.

“Stand in a line,” Harlan commanded.

They shuffled about, moving silently as they stood in a neat line — all the blue-robed, white-masked Choir members in a neat row, and with Lysander, Lyra, Robyn and even Holly standing next to each other, naked and staring.

“Just as I thought,” said Harlan, removing the mask. “They obey the Conductor. And to them, anyone who wears the black robes and golden mask is the Conductor. That’s the problem with uniforms that hide identities and erase individuality… it makes impersonation ridiculously easy. Especially when you’re dealing with mindless slaves.”

He walked up to Robyn and Holly. Now that he wasn’t wearing the mask, they didn’t seem to even realize he was there. 

“I’m sorry about this,” he told them.

He might as well have been invisible. Holly and Robyn kept staring blankly at the world. 

“At least they can keep each other company in their deep trance,” said Monkaya. “But if they can walk, why can’t we take them to Coven’s Refuge? Sure, it’ll take a while to walk all the way there, but it’s not like we couldn’t manage. Even if four of them are naked, they can just do what I did and make it clear they’re being mind-controlled, then there won’t be any pesky fines for public indecency.””

“Or I could just tell them to get dressed,” said Harlan dryly. “Holly’s and Robyn’s clothes are still lying scattered on the floor, and those blue robes over there must belong to Lyra and Lysander.”

“Or we could do that,” said Monkaya, and then brightened. “Oh! What am I thinking?! I can just call the Familiar Four! Magikitty could easily teleport everyone to Coven’s Refuge! She might have to make a few trips to get everyone, but she could do it! Or maybe if the Familiar Four are busy, I could try to find Evenstar… she could use one of her shadow portals.”

“She could,” said Harlan. “But we can’t go to Coven’s Refuge.”

“What?! Why not?”

“Because Vespara’s spirit is still locked up in a vault there, and there is a chance… a small chance, but still… that if we take any of these Choir members there, some sort of hypnotic suggestion will make them try to free her. I don’t think we should risk it.” 

“Fuck,” said Monkaya. “So what do we do? We can’t make them stay here in the warehouse while we find a way to break their trance. Even if they’re mindless and don’t care where they are, that seems too callous. Besides, any supervillain might come across them!”

“You’re right,” Harlan sighed. “This is officially the dumbest plan I’ve ever had, but… we’ll have to take them back home.”

“You mean to Willowbound Lane?” Monkaya looked at the line of hypnotized people and cultists standing at attention. Then she looked at Lady Saphira, who was still lying on the floor and droning to herself. “…do you even have room for this many people in your house?” she said.

“No, but I don’t have the money to rent anything bigger either, at least not somewhere that would be half as well protected,” said Harlan. “We do all right, thanks to our witch-for-hire business and Holly’s luck mark, but we don’t have cash to burn. Holly might be able to use her luck mark to get some more money our way, but she’d need to use her brain for that. And right now, her brain’s shut off.”

Monkaya sighed too. “I’d offer to house some of them, but I definitely don’t have room — I live at the Aurora Roost. We only have one-room apartments. Comfortable enough, but not really fit for any number of guests. And the supervisor doesn’t like it when we bring hypno-slaves back home anyway… says it sends the wrong message.”

“Willowbound Lane is the only plausible alternative, then.” Harlan put the golden mask on. The entire Silent Choir, robed and naked members alike stood to attention. “All right,” he said in the Conductor’s voice. “Anyone who is currently naked, get dressed. But use Holly’s coat to cover up Lady Saphira. We have a long walk ahead of us. Then when we get home we’ll work on restoring your minds back to normal.”

Holly, Robyn, Lyra and Lysander moved stiffly and mechanically as they began gathering up their clothes from the floor and putting them on… still with utterly blank expressions on their faces. No thoughts… no emotions… just mindless obedience.

The mirror went dark. For hours, its surface had shown the warehouse at Bayfront through Lady Saphira’s eyes; now it only reflected Lucinda’s own face.

So. The conduit was severed. The plan had failed. Who the hell had that monkey-girl been?!

Countess Lucinda Duskvale of Varnagard rested her fingers on the mirror’s silver rim, feeling the residual warmth of the control mark that linked her to the Conductor fading. 

A tidy spell, that mark. More elegant than Vespara’s brutish bindings, less invasive than true possession… just a way to steer someone while keeping an eye on things. And Lady Saphira had been so easy to steer. All Lucinda had needed to do was play on the woman’s infamous hatred for bards and her famous belief in the Chosen Queen, and that had fed into the entire “Conductor of the Silent Choir” role.

It had been a little theatrical, Lucinda would be the first to admit that. But it had been effective. Lady Saphira, in her “Conductor” guise, had managed to gain complete control over no less than fifteen bards… most of them youngsters barely out of Evershade… and had them ready to use their hypnotic music on command. The more bards in the Choir, the stronger the hum.

If the plan had worked, they would have made perfect spies. They wouldn’t even have stood out… at least not in Paragon Bay, where everyone knew you got all sorts of strange cults and supervillain groups anyway.

Too bad that wouldn’t happen. Lucinda was certain that Mr Gardener would eventually find some way to snap Lady Blackthorne and Miss Foxlane out of their deep trances, and even break the spells on the rest of the Silent Choir. It would take him some time, but he’d manage. And the next time he’d probably have some countermeasures against Vespara’s Curse too… and even if he didn’t, probably someone else in Paragon Bay would. The people of that damn city-state were nothing if not resourceful.

How very annoying. She’d practically had Lady Blackthorne in her grasp that time… all mindless and helpless and ready to be shipped back to Tir’Galdur for some proper Queen training. Within a few weeks, the country would finally have had a proper Queen again; and a perfectly charming and obedient one at that, ready to take instructions and rule the way she was supposed to. 

Instead, it seemed like Tir’Galdur would be stuck with the Throne Regent the people had hastily placed in charge when Lady Blackthorne ran off to Paragon Bay. And while the woman, whatever her name was, wasn’t particularly incompetent, the sad fact remained that she wasn’t particularly useful either. A Throne Regent simply didn’t have the convenient power and admiration that a Chosen Queen did.

Ironically, Davinia would have made for a perfect Chosen Queen, even with Vespara gone from her mind. Especially with Vespara gone from her mind, in fact… 

Lucinda turned to look at her daughter, who was standing by the tall window and gazing out at the gardens. The girl wore that same distant expression that was now her default.

“You shouldn’t stare into the wards like that, Davinia,” said Lucinda. “They resonate with residual glamour. You’ll only give yourself another headache.”

“I was trying to see the stars.” Davinia’s voice was a whisper. 

“Davinia… it’s noon. There aren’t any stars.”

“I know.”

“…why were you trying to see stars you know aren’t there?”

“I don’t know.”

Lucinda almost felt bad for her daughter. Back when she had Vespara in her head, Davinia had been proud, confident, supreme. But after that flute-in-the-pussy exorcism, she’d been a mere shadow of her former, supremely confident self. Soft-spoken, obedient and submissive; and she didn’t seem to be all there. ‘Soul fatigue’, the doctors called it.

On the positive side, she never showed any resentment towards Lucinda for having agreed to let Vespara turn her into a vessel in the first place… but this might just be because her new, docile nature didn’t allow her to feel any resentment. She’d just do anything and everything she was told without asking questions. 

But there was no way the public would accept her as their Chosen Queen — not after she’d been the body and vessel for Vespara. Even vaguely worded prophecies could only do so much.

“Davinia,” said Lucinda. “Stop looking out the window and come here.”

“Yes, Mother.” Davinia obediently turned and walked over to her.

Lucinda was aware that some of the bleeding hearts in the lower classes (Lady Blackthorne among them) were under the opinion that she was a bad mother, just because she’d agreed when Vespara wanted to turn her daughter into her vessel. 

But really, what were daughters for if mothers couldn’t use them to get ahead in life? You couldn’t keep in power if you weren’t willing to make sacrifices. 

That was what the lower classes didn’t get. They only saw the pomp and circumstance, the money and the grand houses, the fine clothes and the parties. They had no clue about the unpleasant side to it… and they were too busy whining about not having enough food or being treated as slaves to even realize the terrible struggles that came with being a noblewoman.

“Davinia,” said Lucinda. “You still follow the news from Paragon Bay on the Internet, don’t you?” 

“Yes, Mother.”

“Have you heard anything about Lady Blackthorne having a monkey-girl as a familiar?”

Davinia frowned slightly. “No, Mother.”

“You’re certain?” Lucinda pushed. “A spirit given humanoid form like those familiars of White Sorceress… the catgirl, the mouse-girl, the snake-girl and the crow-girl.”

“Yes, Mother. No, Mother. I don’t know anything about a monkey-girl,” said Davinia. After a moment’s thought, she added: “I don’t think Holly would have the power to call up a familiar anyway. Her magic’s strong, but not that strong.”

“I would have said you were right,” said Lucinda. “But that monkey-girl must have come from somewhere.”

Davinia didn’t ask for any sort of clarification. She never asked about anything these days. Instead, she merely offered: “Maybe it wasn’t a spirit, Mother. Maybe it was just one of the supers from Paragon Bay.”

Lucinda gave a quiet, dismissive laugh. “My dear, no mundie could have bested Lady Saphira that easily. Not even if it was one of those precious Paragon Bay metahumans. Oh, they can be clever, I’ll grant you that, but they’re essentially just one-trick ponies.”

“Well…” said Davinia softly. “I think that maybe…”

“Leave the thinking to me, sweetie. You know you’re not good at it.”

“Yes, Mother.” Davinia’s eyes went distant again as she slipped back into whatever fantasy world she spent her time in these days. 

There was a quiet knock on the door. A young woman in plain grey livery — some mundie servant whom Lucinda would probably remember the name of if she tried — stepped in, carrying a silver tray. She bowed low, eyes fixed on the carpet. “Your tea, M’Lady.”

“Leave it,” said Lucinda, motioning to the small table next to her. “I’ll pour it myself. Oh, and it’s time for Davinia’s bath. See to it, will you?”

“At once, M’Lady.” The servant set the tray down and turned to Davinia. “Please come with me, Mistress Davinia.”

“Yes, Annabel,” said Davinia and followed the servant out of the room.

Lucinda turned back to her desk to find her notebook. 

It was magical, of course; most of Lucinda’s most prized possessions were. This notebook helped her gather her thoughts… and if anyone else tried to read it, all they would see would be some bad attempts at poetry that Lucinda had written in her teens. 

She found the page marked “The Silent Choir” and grabbed a pen to write “TERMINATED” on top of the page. After a moment’s thought, she found a new page and wrote: “Unknown variable: simian-like female. Source of disruption. Possible problem. Determine lineage and make plans for how to deal with her.”

Unlike Vespara, Lucinda learned from her mistakes. 

And unlike Vespara, she knew that the ideal place to be wasn’t on the throne, but behind it. Queens died, Chosen Ones came and went, but power endured in the hands that formed them. And shaping that power was an art.

Vespara had ultimately proven useless… but Lady Blackthorne would not. The people needed their new Queen, and Lady Blackthorne would be that Queen. With or without her mind intact.