“Henry… as much as I want to believe that… I just…”

  She sighed, unsure of how to

  best respond. “While I’m glad you’ve recognized what happened

  somewhat, I can’t just take your word on it.

  I’m not ruling out the possibility, but… well, there’s a pretty

  deep hole with your name on it that you’ve dug for yourself

  already. Deep enough that talk

  just won’t be enough.”

  Mist lazily swirled around the two of them as their conversation began to wrap up. With the faint source of light from the disposable talisman, Henry could watch currents of it shift through the air around them, passively cycling from the presence of Layla’s fog magic. If it hadn’t been for the stillness of the air otherwise, he would have never noticed the effect. But, as they stood there alone in the empty expanse, it was more than apparent.

  Her words stung a bit, but… they felt fair. Considering he was the one who had left her – and on bad terms, to boot – after she had taken care of him during his time of need… She had every right to not forgive him just yet. And then some.

  However, she wasn’t quite done saying her piece. And her last words on the subject ended it on a positive note.

  “Although…” she continued, “compared to the last time we saw each other, this is… hm. I say less messed up, but that’s not quite right either… More like…”

  “…Like this time, there might be a chance?”, Henry finished, daring to hope.

  “A chance of a chance, if anything,” she corrected. “But, there’s definitely something. Enough there that I’m willing to trust you on it for now… on one condition.”

  Don’t cry. Don’t cry right in front of her and those beautiful, beautiful forgiving words now…

  

  “Name it.”

  “I need you to tell me every last detail of what this plan of yours actually is. If I like it, I’ll keep playing along. If not, we do things my way. Deal?”

  It was the easiest decision of Henry’s life, and far better than he felt he deserved.

  “Deal,” he replied instantly.

  While he didn’t quite start sobbing in front of her, it was a close thing. He felt tears welling up as a weight he hadn’t realized he was carrying suddenly felt like it was lifted from his shoulders.

  Funny. He'd never considered himself the sappy type, and yet... here he was.

  He stepped close to her and hugged her tightly. Wrapping his arms around her and through the oversized backpack frame was a bit awkward. Not that that was going to stop him now, though. Layla yelped a bit from surprise, but otherwise let it happen. It saved him from being seen crying.

  At least, on the visual side of things. He was pretty sure she heard him sniffle a bit. If she did, she’d tactfully not pointed it out. That was thoughtful of her.

  “Thank you,” he managed to reply, barely louder than a whisper. “Thank you.”

  A small pause, before she stepped in even closer. As best as she could, she returned the embrace after the initial shock wore off.

  “It’s nothing,” she murmured. “Greenwich looks after its own, remember?”

  Words he needed to learn to live by again. “Yeah…” he agreed. “I remember.”

  Once the moment felt right, he pulled away and flashed her a smile he hadn’t given in months. With gusto, he explained what he wanted to happen in the next few hours, quiet enough so nobody but them could hear.

  At first, she just listened. But eventually, she started nodding along, too.

  < -|- -|- >

  “…Nope. No way that’s

  how we’re going to do it.”

  His smile dropped immediately as his heart sank into his stomach. “...What? Wait, what do you mean-”

  She’d looked like she was totally on board with it by the end! Everything about her body language had been a dead giveaway to that! He kept floundering for a few seconds longer before he noticed the small smile on her face. Like she was holding back a chuckle at his expense.

  “Henry,” she cut him off prematurely, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. “.”

  Realization dawned on him.

  Of all the times to pull a prank like that!

  

  He stared at her wide eyed as she pulled back. Seeing his over-the-top look of betrayal finally got her to crack, laughter ringing out louder than the rest of their conversation had. Not a practiced laugh, but the kind of ugly laugh that you’d only hear from someone you’ve known a long time.

  He was conflicted. She’d gotten him good, but still…

  “H-Hey! That genuinely had me disturbed for a moment there!”, he responded heatedly with mock indignance. “That’s- that’s a cruel joke, that is!”

  “Consider us a bit more even for you deciding to walk out on us with Cecil, then.” She reminded him hurriedly as she walked past him towards the inky black pillar. “Now, let’s get moving. We’ve got an artifact to find and not a lot of time for you to find it. High time we got to work…”

  Looking over her shoulder, she smirked in his direction. “...Partner.”

  Henry stood dumbfounded for a moment as she began walking off, wisps of vapor trailing her like a cape through the frame backpack her hands were tied to. He nearly forgot to blink a few times.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  was a response that he hadn’t expected in the slightest.

  It left him with one thought, before he came to his senses and began following after her.

  “Oh, I’m going to get her back for that one, mark my words…”, he said with a small laugh.

  If it was a prank war she wanted, then a prank war she’d get. He ran after her, a single target entering his vision as he closed in.

  In one fluid motion, he pulled her hood over her eyes fast enough to nearly make her trip. She spluttered a bit, but her bindings kept her from retaliating with anything stronger than some playful verbal jabs. They walked side by side, half-jokingly roughhousing each other with small shoves and elbow jabs for most of the way.

  In a moment, they’d have to go back to their roles, but for now… this was the most fun either of them had had in months. It would be silly to waste it.

  < -|- -|- >

  “I’m telling you, Gordie, there’s no way this altar important in some way! L-look at all the enchantments layered one atop the other! It practically screams control panel of some kind, even if it is just a stone slab with fancy carvings!”

  “And I’m sayin’, dere’s no point to muckin’ about wiff it if it’s already been broken ta pieces! We’d be best off jus’ moving on, and checking somewhere more obvious first. End of story.”

  After the two of them had met back up with who must have been the luckiest person alive to last this long on their own, Henry had found himself at an impasse. Their de facto leader was extremely confident that they’d have to look elsewhere for a glimpse at their quarry, while Henry’s own instincts were itching to turn this room upside down. That they were standing in front of an altar that had been clearly sabotaged, as well as being surrounded by the crumbled remains of what had once been nine life-size statues and their plinths… he was loath to move on from an area that practically screamed it had been of great importance.

  “So what if it’s broken? There’s got to be something left intact enough to make use of it!”

  Holstering his revolver momentarily, he broke an end off of his light source and jammed it into one of the grooves closest to where he would have thought the structure’s ley line would be. Light Domain mana flowed unevenly from its container into the lines, causing a momentary flash of activity from the damaged enchantments before the power dispersed into the air entirely.

  It was close to being usable. If only he could keep the energy in the system…

  “Mate,” Gordie pleaded. “As much as you seem keen to make a proppa run on the Mystery of the Big Pile of Smashed Bits, dere’s a whole rest of this bloody temple dat needs a once-over, too.”

  Henry mumbled to himself, disregarding his superior entirely as he got lost in his own train of thought.

  “Let’s see… Subway Wizards are downright fanatical devotees to classical Domain magic… they’ve built their temple in the main exchange of Liverpool Street Station… Liverpool… the premier school for training new Domain mages was the Liverpool Institute… Is there some sort of correlation there, or-”

  “Oh, ta hell wiff dis!” Gordie, totally fed up with Henry’s antics, primed the charging handle of his homemade submachine gun and planted the muzzle directly in his ear. “Either move on already, or let me know what the inside of yer brain looks like.”

  “Come on! You can’t give me another five minutes? I think I see some parts here that I can fix!”

  Layla cleared her throat, speaking softly. “Excuse me…”

  Gordie paid her no heed, as focused as he was on threatening Henry to back off. “I don’t bloody care even if ye were the second coming of Embla bloody ‘endriksson! This whole trip all you’ve done is play the fool, doing the bare minimum necessary ta get what ya want, while da rest of us bleed fer it! I’ve half a mind to finish this right now, and claim it was an accident!”

  “”, Layla said with a bit more force in her voice.

  “Oh, daring today, are we Gordie? You know, your friend tried something similar on the train, just before it crashed. Nearly killed you along with him by doing so, which was a real shame. If he’d just trusted-”

  “Trust?! We’re supposed to trust ?!?! Don’t fink I don’t see how you operate, kid! Mighty convenient how yer position’s been getting stronger and stronger-”

  “EXCUSE ME!!”

  “WHAT?!”, both Henry and Gordie shouted back in unison.

  Her first response was to pointedly glare at him, which made Henry flinch a bit. She took a deep breath in and out, calming herself before continuing.

  “I’m pretty certain I’d be able to patch that up.”

  Both of them looked on at her surprised, for different reasons. For Henry, it was because he’d had no idea she’d bothered to take up her mom’s old craft. Did her opinion change on the subject? Was it out of necessity? All of these questions and more swam in his head as the implications of that bombshell stretched far and wide.

  Gordie, on the other hand, was more practically-minded about the reveal.

  “...You?”, he said in disbelief. “You fink ya can pull one over me that easy? ‘Oh, sure, missy, let me just untie ya on the assumption ye’ll play nice! No way ye’ll turn on me the moment I look the otha way!’ Get bent.”

  Mocking her voice, Gordie turned to point his weapon at her chest. The magazine rattled in it’s housing as he moved, and he squinted at her as he tried to read her mannerisms through the hood covering her face. Despite his scowling, Layla remained perfectly calm.

  “So don’t untie me, then. All I need to do is direct one of you on how to connect the lines back together the right way. From what I can see, this would take me maybe… twenty minutes on my own? Probably a half hour or so for either of you, then.”

  “And why shouldn’t I jes’ keep you lot moving instead of treatin’ ya better than the misbehavin’ kids you’re acting like?”

  “Trust me, I him.” She jerked her head towards Henry as she spoke, with a resigned tone that implied she was deeply experienced on the matter. “He’ll be making a fuss of it the whole way through, until you come back and let him get at it anyways. This’ll be quicker for all of us.”

  Henry winced again. “You know me too well…”

  “Can it, bellend,” Gordie growled in his direction halfheartedly. Continuing his interrogation, he pressed on.

  “Next question. What makes you more qualified to claim success than this bloke here?”, he motioned towards Henry, now fully removed from the conversation.

  She’s doing pretty good, as far as being on the wrong end of gunboat diplomacy goes. Might have to trade notes with her later…

  

  “Easy. To begin with, literally only a few days before the first Witching Hour, I got an acceptance letter to Liverpool Institute. Granted, I never had a chance to make good on that offer, but I’m still probably close to one of the most well-versed on the subject of Domain magic left alive, Morlocks notwithstanding. I’ve been… practicing a bit, recently.”

  “Practicing?”

  “Well, this fancy hood didn’t just appear out of thin air. Though I guess, in other circumstances, it very well could have. But no. I made this one myself.”

  Henry took a second look at the magic item, impressed. That really was a cutting-edge enchantment, then.

  “It was a pain to find a Night Domain mage to supply the initial mana, but the etching is all my own work. Now, are we doing this or not?”

  They waited patiently as their shot-caller wracked his brain. Henry wasn’t sure how much of that was actually the gears turning in his head, and how much was put on for show. This thug was more clever than he let on, despite his efforts to make it look like the contrary. He had a nasty tendency to predict his actions at least a step ahead of what most others did, though sometimes it seemed like he willingly played along with the moves less harmful to the thug personally.

  As often as the two of them butted heads on matters, Henry could respect a properly constructed deception. Though, he did have to critique it a little bit. The ruse had started falling apart once he’d started pressing the more antagonistic screws on him.

  Something that, apparently, the henchman had also recognized. He pulled a short-band handheld radio off of his belt, and let the mask slip.

  “This is Gordon,” he said over an open channel. “We’ve got something that might be worthwhile to look at. Any chance you can stop the flyby to keep a closer eye on these two? I don’t want them pulling any funny business.”

  The accent slipped entirely, as the thug spoke in short, clipped syllables. It was honestly a little disturbing how seamlessly he’d slipped between the two.