Who Has the Leash, The Hidden One, and New Challenges

Eponymous, Part 1 - Who Has the Leash

C&C, MSTs are welcome E-mail: This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.

Author's Note: Great Grond, a mythical creature named not after the French word for hammer, but for the eponymous item in Lord of The Rings, although some hammering may occur. Well famed for 'getting in to those more resistant spots', as well as all the other aspects the old Professor described so well. A patron of Tamers.

. . . There are things in this world you don't mess with: Widow, Tomboys, angry police. There are even more things outside this universe you don't mess with. Because Widows, Tomboys, and angry cops will generally keep your suffering short. There are things else where that feed on human anguish, and revel in human pain. The attention of such monsters is always to be avoided. The intimate attention of such creatures is to be avoided at all costs.

. . . The news anchor hadn't put on her plastic smile, yet, but was chatting with her co-host, a Bimbo she was sure had been hired for her tits and her willingness to suck off the boss.

. . . "Barret Com Delacanstter was an asshole. The people attracted by his wealth and fame all thought so, usually within mere moments. Most people with a brain could discern this from upward of 50 yards, some from as far as a mile."

. . . "On in five."

. . . The Bimbo smiled vapidly. "But there are certain people who will do anything to share the spotlight with a rich winner. Monique, you were one of them."

. . . "You're on."

. . . The anchorette couldn't rip the Bimbo a new one, instead she put her smile on and announced. "We must tell you of the tragic loss of famed altruist and entrepreneur Barret Com Delacanstter. Barret won the Pine Cup Circuit one on one championship at Grape City as 16, became a college wreckball star, had collected badges and experience to compete and place 4th in Cactits Cup Circuit Tournament in 6-girl team championship held at Gold Nugget City and third in the 2on2 championship held at Neon City. He then 'retired' from active competition to concentrate on altruism."

. . . "He was well known for helping struggling Tamers and he was very free with the extensive collection of Pokègirls he captured during his long and exciting career," the Bimbo squealed and bounced in her chair, setting her most obvious asset bouncing too.

. . . "Most about this and other important stories after these words from our sponsor," Monique said, and once the lights on the cameras were off, glared at the Bimbo.

---

. . . The Supe-bra Genius glanced around, sipped the coffee he'd just handed her and began to orate, "Lieutenant Smith." She gestured at the bloody mess adoring the walls, and the almost unidentifiable, bloody thing sitting in the middle of the room. "The bloody mess in the Taming Room wreckage has positively proven that Barret Com Delacanstter, of the Delacanstter fortune, beloved bad/pretty boy of the glitterati, and screwer-over extraordinaire of the young and naive, was killed in a Windy Shores Taming room, in an unlicenced Pokècenter."

. . . "Good to see your cynicism is intact," he replied, "So you want a Taming later, I'll let all the girls out and make them wear cowboy hats." The absolutely satanic grin on her face makes the offer worth it.

. . . She shakes her head. "You write me a rain-check, and I'll make sure nobody gets the data before you. You schemer you."

. . . "Short of a bomb . . . ?" one of the Officer Jennies asked, looking around and looking rather green as the brutality of the murder sank in.

. . . "Plant a bomb in his belly," Smith said quietly.

. . . The Supe-bra Genius explained, "Despite what the cop show tell you, water and air pressure won't do that kind of damage." They watched the Jenny run away, and he hid a smile.

. . . You enjoy this too much, came the voice that was eternally trapped in his head.

. . . You wanted into this world, now you're stuck with this prison. Besides, you must have a hard on from the terror and agony, as well as the shame ground into these wall, he mentally replied, He could afford to have anything except a member of the Five Families delivered, he could have gone to any legal or 'discreet' Pokèbrothel in the hemisphere, why come to a rundown seedy place like this to get offed?

. . . He wasn't killed here, the voice told him, The body was disposed of, but he was no longer aware when he was destroyed.

. . . Terrific, so he was killed elsewhere, any idea of where elsewhere? he asked, Any idea why they dumped him here?

. . . Only guesses, the voice said, then added eagerly, Do you want to hear them?

. . . Absolutely NOT! he thought back, and ignored the chuckling.

. . . "Verify that the body was alive, before they blew it up," he told the policePokè, "Also have the teams look for signs of the body being carried in here, or dragged."

. . . The Supe-bra Genius stared at him. "What makes you think he wasn't killed right here." She began looking around, trying to spot the piece of evidence she'd missed.

. . . Crap, I set her off again, he thought.

. . . And quickly said, "You think he would have come in here and nobody knew who he was? That means he was disguised, and you would have mentioned prostheses in the debris, or somebody trussed him up, brought him here, and blew him up."

. . . "Ah!" she said, and sighed with relief, "Now I know why I'll never make detective."

. . . "You're the best forensic examiner we've got," he said and headed over to where the bulk of his Harem waited, behind the scene tape, making sure others didn't cross it either. What a bunch, he thought, and ignored further giggling from inside, The Cherub and the Fallen Angel most people understand. The Charlie Angel, Frostits and Tanuki they don't. The Hell with them, and the Hell with you too.

. . . Been there, done that, know all the recipes for brimstone, the voice told him.

. . . "There is no one who would do this," the Cherub said dreamily, and smiled at her Tamer, "That was very kind of you, keeping her from having another fit."

. . . The Fallen Angel just cracked her knuckles, awaiting the time when she'd release her rage on a target. The others simply looked out at him with a mix of vacuousness and amusement.

. . . "Does that mean two people did this?" he asked, causing the Cherub to consider.

. . . "I don't know," the Cherub said after a moment's concentration.

. . . "Crap, it's Wings," the Fallen Angel said, jerking a thumb at the approaching Megami, and her Tamer.

. . . "Captain," he said, saluted, and pointedly ignored the Megami.

. . . The man scowled at the disrespect shown his true master. "This case has additional concerns, political and press concerns."

. . . "I'll solve the case, sir, and I won't step on any toes I don't need to," he promised.

. . . You two-faced, simpering prick, he didn't say as he noted the Megami chattering at his Cherub and Fallen Angel.

. . . "You aren't in the chain of command," his Frostits told the Pokègirl, grabbed a handful of ribbons and dragged her away.

. . . "Fall not to evil's blandishments!" the Megami cried, tears running down her face.

. . . "They make better pets when you have them fixed," he told the Captain, and enjoyed the Captain squirming at the thought.

. . . What makes you think he gets any? the voice asked, Except when she needs it?

. . . "Such a procedure is highly unethical," the Captain said.

. . . "So is harassment of a subordinate's Harem during an investigation, Captain," he replied, "You want to save them, challenge me to a Salvage battle, I'll even agree. As long as you put Ribbons up as the prize. I'm interested in what a pissed-off Fallen Angel will do to a self-righteous Megami."

. . . The captain stalked off. The hatred of every line officer following him like a cloud.

. . . "Perhaps he wears Barret PJs," the Fallen Angel suggested.

. . . "Wouldn't surprise me, he'd gravitate to a bastard like that. Probably tames . . . what did you call her? 'Stick-up-the-mud'? In them."

. . . "I'll make ribbons out of her," the Fallen Angel said.

. . . "If that toady crawled out from under his rock, that means the mayor is interested, that means at least one of the Five Families is on one side of this, and another is on the other. We'll probably be getting 'help' that will mess up the entire investigation."

. . . Of course, how better to leave them in a state of terror and mutual suspicion, the voice inside him chortled.

. . . Shut the Taming up! he wanted to shout, but knew screaming at things no one else could see was bad for morale.

---

. . . 'Help' was waiting in his office with a number of other officers loitering in the vicinity. Either a Domina in a business suit, or a rich, bitch attorney. No slacks, short skirt, probably no panties either.

. . . "Eloise Cranston Esquire, I'm here to ensure you get all the help you need with the investigation." She extended a expensively manicured hand. He looked at his dirty hands, gestured to a chair and walked around his desk without touching her.

. . . I hate it when you're right, the voice told him.

. . . "We have the parking tickets all straightened out, and I believe the plea bargain is solid." He took his seat and ignored her, going over routine paperwork.

. . . "Mr. Smith, you are going to need guidance to bring this case to a satisfactory conclusion." She looked at the chair, and deigned to sit on it.

. . . He looked intently at a spot two inches outside and three inches above her left ear. "Esquire, my job is to collect evidence, not to prosecute. Bringing this case to a 'satisfactory conclusion' is not my bailiwick."

. . . Let me rip her guts out and strangle her with them, the voice offered, I'll let you fuck her while she's hanging. Rough sex like that is supposed to be a real turn on for six-packs like that.

. . . Your descriptions and comments could make an actual Taming dull and boring, he replied.

. . . She crossed her legs.

. . . Trying to imply that good boys get candy? Have you even seen my Harem, you arrogant bitch, he wanted to ask.

. . . "I think the previous offer was more interesting," he said idly, not looking up, or looking at her, "And all she wanted was a copy of my findings."

. . . "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean," she replied as she uncrossed her legs and narrowed her eyes.

. . . A whore is a whore, at least Pokègirls have Ferality as an excuse, he thought, What do you get? And which side do you work for? You don't even like the implication that someone beat you to your target, even if they failed as you have.

. . . "Well, she didn't exist either, just helping a 'concerned citi -' sorry, a 'deeply concerned citizen' see to it that justice is done," he offered.

. . . "You wouldn't have a card, or a description, would you?" she asked, leaning forward.

. . . He ignore the impressive cleavage. Yeah, she's a figment of your imaginations, he thought.

. . . Say she was plain and average, then give her a once over, the voice suggested, She'll assume you think the same of her.

. . . I can think of more pleasant ways to commit suicide, thank you, he thought, as he stood and opened the door to his office, If she was a Bimbo, instead of a bimbo, I'd say she's going Feral, but I think she's so used to being ordered to give it away, she assumes everybody wants it.

. . . Ah, yes. She doesn't want to admit to herself that what they want is her humiliation not her beauty or wit, the power over an otherwise clever and capable other, to reduce them to an object. She'd be a real handful in bed, for a willing partner who wanted her body and inventiveness, and not just her shame. You humans are so entertaining.

. . . The times I agree with you, are among the worst of my life, he replied, Have I ever told you that?

. . . "I didn't get a name, but I'll be sure to give her yours," he said and smiled broadly.

. . . The woman stormed out, catching most of the eyes in the place.

. . . You know, I'd almost think you're right, he thought to the voice, But who could afford to keep her. She's selling herself for the expensive baubles, and perks of her station. Who the Hell walks around in a 700,000 SLC suit, and almost the ten times that in 'tastefully understated' jewelry and watch, with no Pokègirls or spells for protection?

. . . You could, because of me of course, the voice reminded him, But, you have to be prissy about all the entrails hung by the chimney with care, and the organs all snug in their jars, with her on her knees just giving you head -

. . . Your poetry is worse than your ideas, he replied.

. . . Off pouting now, the voice said.

. . . He released the girls of his Harem, and they set about doing what they usually did. The Frostits went to get the ingredients for iced coffee, namely, coffee. The other ingredient stayed with her. The Cherub flittered around so she could look over everyone's shoulder and offer encouragement. The Tanuki went over the correspondence, dividing it into 'look at now', 'look at RIGHT NOW', and 'safe to leave'. She also surveyed the older 'safe-to-leave' to see if it had changed status.

. . . "Complaint from the mayor, cc'd to the chief and the boss, complaining that the case should be turned over to the SLIS," his Tanuki said.

. . . Joey walked in with his Fallen Angel. The pair of once-Celestials immediately hissed at each other, fingers curling to claws, and wings extending. While Joey tugged on one of his Fallen Angel's pin feathers, Smith stuck his finger in his Fallen Angel's jean's waist band, which was already showing half her ass crack, and gave it a downward yank. Both Fallen Angels whirled to confront their Masters. The matching terrified snarls only served to remind both men of the former Angels' former Mistresses, and how close the four humans and their Harems had once been.

. . . "Neither one of you knows enough about what happened that night to form an opinion," Joey said darkly, intimidating all the Pokègirls, "Let alone lay blame."

. . . The pair calmed down, and the rest of the Harems unclenched. Joey's Grotitle meandered over to give Smith's Fallen Angel a hug, while his Hamtits tried to do what the Tanuki was doing.

. . . "The mayor has officially requested that we transfer the case to the SLIS," Smith said.

. . . Joey looked up from the hash the Hamtits had made of yesterday's e-mails, and frowned. "The SLIS agent on the scene, will coordinate all efforts with the local officers, in order to insure the closest possible rapport be maintained between local crime-fighting and the best interests of the League."

. . . While the Hamtits was a rotten secretary, she was the fastest, most accurate typist anyone had seen. Although she sometimes spelled words phonetically.

. . . Joey looked over the message. "Forward the e-mail to me, I'll reply all and send a couple of cc's up the line. Later, I'll send a couple out that you're doing your job, and the SLIS shouldn't step on any toes, as long as this remains a local crime."

. . . "Thanks, I already had a distinguished visitor, really snotty looker, but somebody got all lawyered up," Smith warned.

. . . "I'll be on the look out. Lawyers in cases like these are like sharks. There's always a pack of them, and they'll strike if they smell blood. Best thing, bloody one of them and throw them to their fellow sharks. It's not only effective, it's fun."

. . . I like him, the voice said.

. . . You've said that before, and I agree with you, he thought as he scanned the e-mails marked 'urgent' that actually were.

. . . "Ah ha! Got his new number. Joey close the door, "I have a call to make."

. . . "It really creeps me out when you let that thing loose," the SLIS agent closed the door and balled his Harem, rapidly balling the rest of the girls as well. "You know how skittish they all get when they see that thing."

. . . "Sure, but with my Fallen Angel, that's half the fun." He dialed, and a pale, spectacled face appeared, then paled even more. "Hey, Veda! Got your new number. And I got your soul name. I called up some of your buddy's friends." For a moment, he let the monster inside him appear and wave at the would-be sorcerer.

. . . "Hello again, Fghtaxath, Demon of the Ninth Order here. Remember I told you how we tie lost souls down with their own entrails and make them listen to our poetry? Now you remember me? Remember the sacrifice you tried to make to me? This is your lucky day. Guess what?" the creature used the cop's vocal cords to speak, "I suggested they go after you, to free me from this fleshy prison. He suggested they do some other things to you first. Imagine, three fifth-ranked demons of the Upper Blood cowering in a corner whimpering. You humans have such de-light-ful imaginations. I'm really quite entertained. I may kill you, before I eat your entrails, bye now." He cut the connection and released control back to his host.

. . . "He offered to do my taxes," Joey said.

. . . "Unless you want a lot of explaining to do," the cop warned his friend, "Don't take him up on it."

. . . Joey smiled. "How do you want to handle this?"

. . . "Your forensics people are better than ours, so we can send samples up to your labs. I have the nasty suspicious that somebody may be trying to sweep this under the rug," he said, "I'm almost afraid to ask 'Why'?"

. . . "Rich scum bucket," Joey answered and shrugged, "Not all those trust-fund kids are useless fucks." Joey reminded his friend that his family could buy and sell half the people in Windy Shores.

. . . "But you're dumb enough to believe all that 'public service' crap," he told his friend.

---

. . . The walk out to the car suddenly got mighty interesting. "Come with us," the small man with a dozen high-powered Pokègirls told him.

. . . Somebody's getting in trouble! the voice chanted.

. . . Yeah, you, if I get killed, you get killed, remember? he replied.

. . . Always spoiling my fun!

. . . He got control and considered the man. "If I demanded to see some I.D., how many of my ribs would it cost me?" he asked the man.

. . . The man chuckled, "After you get in the car, none. Before, as many as it takes to get you into the car."

. . . "I think we'd all feel better if I left my girls in my car."

. . . The man nodded. The cop hit the auto unlock, and let a Hero-chan drop off his Pokèbelt in the car, before relocking it and returning to escort the cop to the limo.

. . . Once the door was closed, the small man showed his I.D., which edified no one, and he began speaking, "You can guess who I work for, and I'll neither confirm nor deny anything, attorney/client privilege. I advise you to keep me informed of major developments." He handed over a card. "I am registered as a police consultant, check with your supervisor to confirm this. So no conflicts of interest should occur."

. . . He's hiding something, the voice said, A good many somethings. None of them healthy for you.

. . . I can gather that, he replied mentally, What should I do?

. . . Besides trust him implicitly, follow his direction to the letter, and quit looking over your shoulder at every turn? the voice asked, Not a thing, that should ensure you get killed.

. . . Gee, thanks for the help.

. . . "What if I am suddenly pulled off the case?" he asked.

. . . "Then you will have solved it. Perhaps not to the standards of a court of law, but we will inform you that the - assassin - has been dealt with. And make no mistake, it was an assassination."

. . . "Why not simply use your own resources?" he asked, looking at the Pokègirls around him, "You seem more than formidable enough. And you aren't afraid of kidnaping a cop right out of Police headquarters."

. . . He doesn't want to get his hands dirty, what else? the voice asked.

. . . "We are merely offering you a ride home, as well as certain clues to the crime. Mr. Com Delacanstter expropriated some rather valuable research. We have no idea who decided the elimination of the head of the corporation, rather than the head of the research team should be undertaken. They both show such a marked degeneracy. After all, with a Harem such as this, and a quite fertile wife at home, and her support Harem, why would I stray? Yet Mr. Com Delacanstter's was far superior and he did, frequently."

. . . Oh, those researchers sound . . . interesting, the voice said, Maybe you could arrange and interview, and a transfer.

. . . "The research team?" he asked.

. . . "The same, under SLIS custody, and I assure you, no one is neglecting their detention or interrogation. Ah, here we are. All safe and sound."

. . . Darn!

. . . Would you shut up? he asked the voice.

. . . "What about my car?" he asked.

. . . The lawyer smiled. "You set the time delay on your balls, and your Tanuki has a driver's licence. Out of curiosity, why haven't you named any of them?"

. . . "If they want a name, they can tell me what it is. They haven't done that," he told the lawyer before getting out, "I will check up on you."

. . . "Feel free, I have nothing to hide. The League as a whole feels very differently. I'd like to help them hide the minimum possible. Good day, and good hunting."

. . . I'd like to help avoid getting a hard-luck police detective 'hidden', the voice said.

. . . "You and me both," he replied, and waited for his car to arrive.

---

. . . "Joey, so this guy is legit?" he asked as the girls dithered about dinner, and the kidnaping.

. . . "Unofficial sources put him as one of the Sages, or the direct agent of one. The fact his other major client is one of the Five Families tends to put a lie to that, but stranger things have happened."

. . . "What about her?" he asked.

. . . "High-ranking lawyer, best school, good grades, officially an 'advisor' to the mayor, paid for by him, not us, but unofficially, she's the liaison between their little council of Matriarchs, and the good-boy face they wear."

. . . "So he's a figurehead."

. . . "A figurehead implies he has some power, I said 'face' and that's what I meant. She's the stick, you ought see the carrot."

. . . Carrot cake! the voice shouted, Not enough paprika. It's a simple bloody recipe!

. . . "I'm quite happy with my girls and what they can do, thank you." He cut the connection and considered. "You aren't putting enough paprika in it."

. . . "How can you tell?" the Tanuki asked.

. . . I can smell it! the voice said.

. . . "I can smell it," he said.

. . . Pap - prik - a! Pap - prik - a! Pap - prik - a! Pap - prik - a! Pap - prik - a!

. . . He sighed, glanced around, and said, "If you can spare me a few minutes, may be I can -" The phone interrupted. "Smith, yeah?"

. . . "Get your ass and all your girls down to the New Vegas Executive Hotel! Now!" came from the patrol man on the other end.

. . . NO! Pap - prik - a! Pap - prik - a! the voice chanted.

. . . SHADDUP!

. . . "We're on our way," he said and looked out the window in the hotel's direction. He hung up. "Okay, no cloud of smoke or pillar of heavenly fire, so whatever it is, it's only human trouble."

. . . "That's the worst kind," the Cherub lamented.

---

. . . Captain Farnsworth was in charge of the scene, while a brown-noser, he at least kept his men and his mission straight in his head. He curried favor with the up and crusties, so we could break heads when we needed to. Right now, he needs to, the cop realized, All they know is a Pidgey flew too close to the building.

. . . He got his Fallen Angel's attention. "Help Farnsworth how ever he needs, and if Joey shows up, keep your claws in and send him my way."

. . . "Have I ever failed you?" she asked pointedly.

. . . "To be honest, you've only ever failed yourself," he told her, gave her a gentle swat on the butt towards the harried Captain, who saw the heavy, bad-attituded reinforcements, and nodded his thanks.

. . . New Vegas Executive Hotel, the voice said, Eleven floors of hotel for business travelers. Sixteen floors of the kept men and women of the upper crust. Master, why with Pokègirls coming out your ears, would anyone insist on debasing human men and women?

. . . If you can't figure that out, you're really not that much of a demon, Smith replied.

. . . Twenty floors up, the elevator stopped. "Sorry, sir," the very young, very nervous fireman told Smith, "Elevators aren't safe the rest of the six-floors up."

. . . Elevators are ordinarily safe. People cut cables, drop grenades from above, all kinds of things.

. . . "Don't ever apologize for doing your job, and if some crusty old bastard gets in your face about apologizing, tell him you were sympathizing with his plight."

. . . "Yes, sir, thank you, sir."

. . . 'Yes, sir, thank you, sir.' Suck UP!

. . . I think I'll have them put majoram in it, just as a change of pace, he replied.

. . . NOOOOOOOooooooooo . . .

. . . "Lord Already, they get younger each year," he said as he released his Harem and headed up the stairs.

. . . The apartment wing was a mix of the forensic and photo people from the Police department, and the forensic and stand-by crew from the Fire department.

. . . My significance sense tells me that the sound of the wind through the windows means, something has happened, something bad, the voice said.

. . . How wonderfully helpful, he replied, Any idea what caused it?

. . . A rocket, a big one with a HESH warhead: High-Explosive Squash Head, the voice said, I thought you people forgot how to make those. A Neo-Iczel or Gun Valkyrie is a better weapon.

. . . He considered that the occasional tidbit was why he tolerated the constant asides.

. . . "Those windows are armored, to shatter them that way .. . with your permission?" the Frostits gestured to the forensics and repair team at the window. The man nodded. He felt his Tanuki, Cherub and Charlie Angel get close to him. The blanket-wrapped figure caught his eye, seemingly ignored in all the commotion.

. . . Without the 50000 cred hairdo, the professional make-up, the 700000 cred suit, the ridiculous bling, the voice said, And without the attitude, she's actually quite fetching. It's that aura of vulnerability that make her yummy, don't get it too close, she still bites.

. . . He ignored the laughter inside his head, but took the warning. "Ma'am?"

. . . "I guess this is pretty funny to you," she said bitterly, "Rich, bitch lawyer gets her's."

. . . Getting yours would involve a paint-stirrer, a cordless drill, and no lube or warning, the voice commented.

. . . Down Spot. I thought there'd be professional courtesy between lawyers and demons.

. . . "Councilor, you shouldn't jump to conclusions. I care about getting perps off the street. If I could get the guy - or Pokè - who offed golden boy, maybe I can keep people from blowing out your windows."

. . . "Believe me, if I knew, I'd tell you."

. . . She does know, and it's who did it that frightens her, the voice told him.

. . . How do you know?

. . . Feminine intuition, the voice told him, I know females.

. . . The cop tried not to roll his eyes, but kept a serious demeanor. "There's a lounge a couple floors down, Charlie, pick out some decent clothes for her and - "

. . . "She can't, they're all evidence, and this blanket belongs to the Fire Department."

. . . "I think I have a solution." He stepped away and pulled the card and his phone out. "Good evening, sir. Assuming you aren't the one with the flying rocket launcher, I'd like you two to meet with me and some friends. The Harrier Club, I'll bet you know where it is. The lady needs a change of clothes, you can amuse yourself to where you get it, but I'll expect it to fit, and at least allow her to get to her office without total embarrassment."

. . . "Understood, you do realize what the cover charge in that club is?"

. . . "One piece of bronze they pass out to lots of young fools," he replied, and the man laughed.

. . . "You called him," Eloise Cranston, not looking very Esquire, said bluntly, "He can't be trusted."

. . . "If you hadn't been taking a shower, that Pidgey with the rocket launcher would have taken you out," he replied, "You aren't in a position to be choosey about whatever help comes."

. . . Her confused expression was worth it. "The Pidgey I can get, how'd you know I was in the shower?"

. . . He's a DETECTIVE, ya silly bink! the voice said, then whispered, She wants you, big strong man to take charge and protect her little, vulnerable, NAKED AND AVAILABLE ass.

. . . He ignored it and pointed out, "You're naked, and your hair's not wet, that means you just stepped in. Or were wearing a cap, because the blast incinerated your clothes which were just outside the stall."

. . . "I underestimated you, but on the way to the club, there's a few things you need to know."

. . . "Okay, Angel, pick her up, there's broken glass from here to the stairwell, and without shoes, you'll cut your feet to ribbons."

. . . "Why not carry me yourself?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

. . . I told you she wanted your body! She's only picking out the steak sauce!

. . . DOWN! Boy, he thought back.

. . . "Pokès are stronger," he replied.

. . . "The window will remain secure, for a few hours," the Frostits told him, "I will lead the way. I suspect the assassin will have a contingency plan, or assistants. The Police and Fire presence, and the lack of a coroner, will point to her survival."

. . . "Logical as always," he said and she nodded, "Tanuki, check on the Fallen Angel, if she can break loose, bring her up here."

. . . His Tanuki also nodded, then stepped into the darkness and vanished.

. . . Here comes a stupid question, the voice suggested.

. . . "Shadow Teleport?" the lawyer asked.

. . . "Nope," he replied, "That's a secret."

. . . Good boy, the voice said, Make her beg for it.

. . . She frowned, but he ignored it. Your check should have shown she got tossed out of Nuevo Ten for 'pranks', he thought, But you don't need to know that.

. . . Halfway down, they met Joey coming up. "Smith, we have to talk!"

. . . "Everybody is assembling in the Harrier Club, we'll get all that out in the open then."

. . . "No," Joey said, "Now, we got all we need. Did either of these to tell you what that bastard was working on?"

. . . "No, of course not. The gentleman mentioned a research team. But beyond that, squat."

. . . "You ever hear of a Feralizer?" Joey asked, and glowered at the woman. She tried to bear up, but without the armor of her power and position, she folded fast.

. . . "I've read enough bad fiction to have heard of the general principle. It's the opposite of a Taming cycle, some are strong enough to break even Recognition. What's that got . . . they were actually trying to build one?! Take her back to her room and chuck her out the window."

. . . Yay Team!

. . . "Wait!" the lawyer pled, "That wasn't what the mayor wanted. Not all of it at least. He only wanted the bond-breaker part. That's all."

. . . Mayor 'Pokègirls-are-scum', Recognized some Pokèwhore or low-level secretary type, the voice told him.

. . . He nearly collapsed in laughter, So he has the bad-good-boy's mad scientist team whip up a treatment. Except, BGBoy takes it a step further, doesn't keep his mouth shut, and . . . Great Grond All Nighty.

. . . "I think we'd better discuss what we can all live with," the cop told the group, and they continued down to the Harrier Club.

. . . The man and just one of his guards was there, a Damsel who looked like she wouldn't spook if Typhonna was going to step on her.

. . . If you start doing a movie theme, I'm going to run It's A Small World through my head.

. . . Meanie, the voice replied.

. . . "Your name opens doors closed even to me, I am impressed. You've no doubt heard more. Unfortunate, but unsurprising."

. . . The Damsel handed over the clothes. The lawyer sneered as she went through them. "These will make me look like a housefrau."

. . . "But an elegantly dressed one. I was permitted a slight revenge. I took it." He grinned. "So sue me."

. . . Be careful of a man who smiles too much, the voice said, Either he's winning, or he's trying to mess with your head.

. . . As long as he gets you first, he thought.

. . . She marched off, Joey dispatched his Fallen Angel to watch her. They proceeded through the empty club, to the one table that was occupied. Smith's Tanuki and Fallen Angel sat, waiting, surrounded by several very nervous bouncers, Hero-types, in revealing fighting togs.

. . . Cat-fight! Cat-fight! Reow!

. . . "Break it up," the cop told them. They sneered at him, then looked at the remaining lawyer, and Joey's SLIS badge. Then withdrew.

. . . "Find the bartender and send him over, no waiters," Joey ordered.

. . . "He ran away," one of the bouncers explained, "Ah, sir."

. . . "You know anything about tending bar?" Joey asked.

. . . "Not a lot, sir."

. . . "Learn quick, you're elected," Joey told them, and held the chairs out for his girls.

. . . Isn't he a gentleman, the voice said.

. . . Mine can find their own seats, Smith thought, and waited. The wait was worth it.

. . . The lady lawyer came out, scrubbed clean, in tight, waist-cut blue jeans, flats, a plain halter and her hair in a kerchief. It showed her arms, ankles and midriff, as well as a bit of cleavage, but she looked at home.

. . . "I dunno, the blanket gave her a Greco-Roman air with a hint of Pre-Columbian AmerInd," Joey said.

. . . "You can throw something at him, I won't see anything."

. . . She smiled, the Frostits held the chair for her, she had the grace to look embarrassed as she sat. The bouncer-turned-bartender approached.

. . . "One bloody-Mary, poured into individual shot glasses, for each of them," Smith said, "Water with ice for me."

. . . "The usual," the lawyer said, then added, "Sorry. Boilermaker."

. . . Cranston Esquire choked at that. "White wine, the Slatzberg, '73."

. . . "Gin and tonic," Joey said, "Nothing for me."

. . . The waiter rolled her eyes and walked away with a mystified expression.

. . . "All right, all pertinent cards on the table," the lawyer said, "This isn't the first time the Feralizer has been developed, and unfortunately, it won't be the last. The PLC, the SLIS and several . . . other groups, are often quite violent towards the inventors, and their staffs. While criminal elements drool over the possibility, a quick trip to the fridge for another beer tells them it can very easily be turned on them, and since they favor more anti-social Pokègirls, the results would be personally catastrophic."

. . . "So why does the League allow research?" Joey asked.

. . . The lady sighed. "Because Recognition is about genetics, as much as it's about 'soul-mates', and very happy marriages and other bonds can be completely disrupted by it."

. . . Aw, she cares about political marriages getting dissolved. Isn't that sweet? the voice said, I may barf.

. . . "That and we're hoping that the reverse can also be created. Something that can Tame a Feral at range, or even a Free. Imagine Pokès everywhere taking a morning shower, and added to the unit is an anti-Feral treatment," she said, "Eliminate the need for Taming, and all that remains is the desire for Taming, which so far nothing can erase, except death."

. . . Oh, she's jealous, she wants all that Taming, the voice said.

. . . Is there anything else you think of? he asked.

. . . Slaughtering and eating people.

. . . "So what is your interest?" Joey asked.

. . . "We want the plans and any prototypes, utterly destroyed," the lawyer said.

. . . And then what? the voice asked, Just turn the attackers over? To be quietly disposed of? Even I don't believe that.

. . . "You?" Smith asked the lady.

. . . "Personally, I want who ever blew up my place, and killed our golden boy, strung up. The League isn't going to let the mayor have his gizmo."

. . . "You're leaving out that you don't work for the mayor, you work for his Masters. A bunch of old ladies who'd like a nice quiet character assassination weapon. Some Pokè is causing trouble, Feralize her, then you can discredit her movement, seize her business, steal her husband and kids, or just pack her up and move her out of town. It also would let them deal with inconvenient items they themselves pop out. Frees have rights. Domestics have rights. Ferals don't, and Tamers are only bound to treat humanely those they've captured. Some daughter pops out an Ingenue: you send the kid to the farm, when she grows up, you zap her, Level 5 her and let her loose in the wild. Unethical, but perfectly legal."

. . . You humans are so instructive, the voice said, My kind could never master this callous cruelty towards such loving helpmates. Shutting up now, sir.

. . . "Are you all right?" the lady asked, a hint of calculation behind the honest concern.

. . . "Internal monologue, I just realized. You know who did this," he said, "Who went after you, and you're shocked."

. . . She blanched and drew back.

. . . "It was the soon-to-be-spurned girl friend," the cop realized, "Now how the Hell did her little clique get access to heavy weapons, and why are they using those, instead of a heavy-duty Pokègirl?"

. . . Ah, the mystery deepens, the voice said, Are they going to answer such deep questions? I think not. Maybe the lady lawyer will help you investigate.

. . . She looked from one face to the other, and realized each was measuring her. "Like I said, he . . . developed a bond . . . with a companion."

. . . "He Recognized a Limbec Pirate who had already been sent to take out golden boy. She Tamed the mayor to get close to golden boy, and . . . did her job and got pissed when the mayor tried to dump her," Joey said, and shook his head. "Thing can't be worse."

. . . "I'm afraid they can," the lawyer said, "For Mister Matthews and myself. For Mr. Smith and Ms. Cranston, they aren't. You've been taken off the case, although you may have just cracked it. I took the liberty, in your name, of sending a bottle of 20-year-old scotch to the patrolman who called you here. It seems when they decided to hit Cranston Esquire, they also decided to take the head of the investigation on the fly. Imagine their surprise, when the rest of my Harem was waiting for them, at your house."

. . . "They're in custody?"

. . . Don't be naive, the voice said, He doesn't work for the police.

. . . "Not police custody," the lawyer assured them, "The police must have rules. The military has fewer restriction operating against, 'non-uniformed combatants'."

. . . "So you work for the Legion," Joey said and waited for the man to nod, "Good to know that something will come out of this."

. . . He doesn't work for them either, the voice told Smith, They hate the SLIS. He didn't say he did, he made the implication for you to infer, and then he just moved his head. Find out who he really works for, and you'll find out who is really pulling the strings, and who is just pulling on the edges of the tapestry.

. . . Why do I think you aren't joking or pulling my chain?

. . . Have I ever lied to you? the voice asked, Today, during this conversation, when I wasn't just joking . . . ah, fudge.

. . . "There remains the identity of the assassin," the lawyer said, "And the cause of the assassination."

. . . "I thought we just discussed that," Smith said.

. . . The lawyer smiled. "We discussed the facts, and the unproven allegations regarding them. However logically arrived at, or even correct, speculation must be admissible, and provable in court. You are far too honest a policeman to stomach the ... discovery of the important facts. I'm afraid our golden boy must die a hero, a foolish, naive one, but a hero."

. . . Who didn't see that coming? the voice asked, Raise your hands.

. . . "He found out they were blackmailing the mayor, and being the community-minded citizen he was, and the adventurer, he lured them in with the promise of a piece of forbidden tech, and they killed him."

. . . "You have an excellent grasp of events," the lawyer said, "I may have them offer that as his official eulogy."

. . . What a load of carp.

. . . "Crap."

. . . "Very true, Mr. Smith."

. . . "You'd better figure out why he was down there," Smith added.

. . . The lawyer frowned. "We know why he was down there. We know very well. Take it from me, Mr. Smith, your dull, boring and above all, honest life lacks the excitement and thrills of many others, but it doesn't leave the mess for others to clean up, and you don't go chasing after thrills that are more embarrassing than satisfying." The man stood and walked away.

. . . "Why do I think I'm in for a bad time for the next couple weeks?" Joey asked.

. . . "Better you than me," Smith said, "But if he thinks I'm gonna drop this on his say, he's crazy."

. . . The bartender arrived. "Do the rest of you want your drinks?"

---

Eponymous, Part 2 - The Hidden One

. . . The tears are what awaken me. Then the disturbing scent of Holiness. I can live with that, I think as I breath deeply, Much power, maybe enough . . . I abandon the thought of escape, too many times has the promise slipped through my fingers.

. . . I extend my awareness, and realize this figure lying on the flagstones is female. She has one of my books! I want to rage, then calm myself, She neither damaged, nor destroyed my wards. Very powerful, and very skilled, I think as I extend my awareness out of the node that is my prison. Her back is to me as she lies on her side. Aside from the cloak and cowl she lies upon, she seems to only wear three strings, one on the neck, one across her back, and the last around her trim waist and going into the cleft of her nates. Odd, I think, No real mage would wear such garments, or lack of garments, if only to keep the dirt and blood off their skin. The only apparent mark on her are two very old scars near her shoulder blades.

. . . She clutches my book to her chest, and weeps piteously. I allow my awareness to filter into the book, and see the world through that view point. Her power is staggering! Magic must have returned to the world, I think and find myself intrigued, She looks like a dog whipped too often and too arbitrarily. She should be easy to turn, and she might have nearly the power to shatter this cursed jail.

. . . I allow her to feel some of my presence, scraping together bits I want her to feel from the miasma that permeates the stones of this place. She sits up and looks around worriedly, clutching the book tightly and ceasing her tears. A trickle of power touches the book, dragging it to me. She cries out and clutches it tightly, but her mass is too small to prevent me from dragging the book into my lair.

. . . I take the seeming of humanity, older but not elderly, a male skilled with the blade, but holding a mage's staff. She takes it in and releases the book, charging me with a hopeless cry. The blows land, mystical and physical, but without strength or force. Merely an expression of hopeless, impotent rage. The blows and inarticulate noises continue until I tire of them, and catch her hands. I pull her arms behind her back to tie them together with her long silver hair. She looks at me in horror as I pull her face around to look at me.

. . . "Stop doing that," I tell her, and hope the tone gets through.

. . . I don't recognize the language, if she was using one, I think as she makes more worried noises. From the front, the scraps of cloth that simulate clothing might exhibit her beauty and womanly charms, if she and they were cleaner and stank less.

. . . Her response is to trip me. I expected that, I think as I knock her down too. She falls beneath me and although I don't land on her, she reacts as if I were going to rape her for her defiance. A spell deals with her, sending to sound sleep. I pick myself off her and return to the from I was trapped in for all that time. I can almost see the linkages to the others, I think as I wait, One or another will come for her. Whoever sent her to plunder my library will also wonder when his slave will return.

. . . In the grip of sleep, she cries out and thrashes. A quick examination finds the fabric collar is the source of her pain. Slicing through it is easy. The ends, when brought together, crackle with lightning. So, this too remains, I think as I wait, Having waited so long, I can wait a little while longer.

. . . A trivial interval later, another young woman in a similar state walks through the fracture in the wall and looks around. She too shivers at the feeling in the walls, the essence of my fury ground into the fabric of the place after my long imprisonment. I have left the other in clear view, although she is better wrapped in her cloak. The other keeps glancing back to the opening, clutching the short baton to her chest and whimpering.

. . . She steels herself to walk towards the fallen figure on the ground. She halts precisely at the edge of my prison and lets out a mournful wail. She squeals and clutches at the fabric collar around her neck. A male voice, greasy, drunken and foul, chastens her from the safety of the antechamber of this damned prison. She shouts something back and looks at the invisible walls of my prison as if she could see them. She no longer is tormented by her necklace, but clearly senses she is not on friendly ground. One step, then another.

. . . The two of them, I realize, They have more than enough power to free me. Then I am left with how to entice them to do it.

. . . She steps through the barrier as if through a cess-covered spiderweb, and she is within my grasp.

. . . Gently, I think as my first stroke severs the cloth band, and I toss it into a corner near the other. Now my human seeming blocks the obvious way out.

. . . She gasps in fright and touches her neck while she turns to face me.

. . . Not even a scratch, I want to tease her, I am not so unskilled as that.

. . . She raised the metal rod. Her clothing, stench and dishevelment are the same as the other.

. . . "You have no heart for battle," I tell her as I sit, unconcerned by the vaguely threatening noises she's trying to warn me with.

. . . She backs toward the other, and falls over her.

. . . Strike! I think as I rush at the fallen woman. Before she can recover, I have her in a headlock, and have pulled her rod away from her. She screams and kicks, but I've got her held firmly. Another gesture and a trickle of power and I pour warm water on her nearly bare back. She reacts as if attacked as I gently rub her filthy cloak on her flesh. The spell continues to provide the cleansing water, purifying the girl and her meager clothing as I rub one against the other.

. . . She relaxes enough to allow me to wash her legs free of the filth caked on her down to her feet. I drop the spell on the first, allowing her to awaken, free herself and watch. She screams in alarm, but the other seems untroubled.

. . . I hold her head in my hands as I work the magic waters through her greasy hair while the first one looks on in bewilderment. I apparently take no notice of either their confusion, relief, or her gratitude. I walk over to the other. Predictably, she shies away, but I catch her too, and give her the same treatment. The other makes soothing noises to the first.

. . . First step, put them out of their normal experience. Second, gain an advocate in their camp, I think. This one giggles as I rub the water over her. I grin at the other and rub my captive the same way, setting off peals of laughter.

. . . The pair stare in fascination as I finish by squeezing the water from the silver hair, letting them see the physical power of my human seeming. They seem to be communicating without speaking, I realize as I note their furtive glances and meaningful expressions to each other. I summon a small rain cloud of the cleansing water, and leave the two of them to wash their faces, chests and upper thighs. They laugh and gabble at each other, enjoying the feeling of being clean, and warm. They've forgotten what they both sensed about me and my prison, I think with satisfaction, As I intended.

. . . The angry, male shout breaks the spell. They instantly realize they cannot conceal what has been done, and that they have not achieved what they were sent to do. Now you have to chose to face your tormentor, or seek a new director, I think as the thoughts race between the two of them. They look at me, faces filled with worry and hope. I press against the barrier and shake my head sadly. Now you can either break the barrier, or face whatever your current commanders dish out. It's clear you fear them.

. . . The two go into a corner. Their 'discussion' has no words, but it is clear that they are not of one mind. I leave them to think and argue. I also put the book on my lap, to remind them of both their thievery, and the power I have at my disposal.

. . . They decide, and the first one approaches me, while the second goes through a group of small, thin rectangles. The first one climbs onto the flat rock I'm sitting on so she's at the same level as I am, and opens her mouth.

. . . Somebody cut her tongue out, I see, And both a cruder and more skillful job than I've seen done. It doesn't prevent those two from communicating . . . it's to prevent them from communicating with anyone else?

. . . She kneels down and puts her head in my lap, rather intimately. She's pulled her cloak aside to expose her bare back. The two scars draw my attention again.

. . . What else did they cut off of you? I wonder, and gingerly touch the scars. The gasps and flinches, but relaxes as she feels my magic probing what once was. I pass through the Holiness that was placed on her, and to the wings that once grew from her back. Lovely people, I think When did you mutilate her, to punish her, or punish her friend? Or just to prevent her from escaping?

. . . The other makes a noise. The first one hugs me and takes my hand as she stands, drawing me over to the second. I make a show of being afraid. Both hug me and laugh.

. . . All right, they are either more artful than I thought, or more guileless. Guileless I can use, I think as I sit where indicated. The focus of her magic hangs over me, several brightly-painted, pasteboard rectangles moving in a slow circle. Odd, but there are odder forms of magic, I think as the girl gobbles something while she twirls her rod. Then she strikes each of the floating rectangles in order, and the spirits held within issue forth.

. . . There is a blinding flare of light along with a tremendous release of power. What have they unleashed!? I wonder, then as the light fades, Me!

. . . Rather than leap up and rush out, which would alert them to what evil they'd loosed upon the world, I hug both of my liberators, and find them hugging me back. Their expressions of adoration and hope at odds with the reality. They seem so innocent and malleable, perhaps I should simply bind them to my will, rather than escape or kill them. Something to consider.

. . . I walk, with one of them under each arm, to the collection of spell books. The wealth that got me imprisoned, I think as I select one, and cast one of the spells within. Now the pair are in serviceable traveling clothes.

. . . They make delighted noises and snuggle against me as we walk out. Some of their movements are rather suggestive, but become more fearful as we walk out into the antechamber.

. . . How long was I imprisoned? I wonder at the stalactites and stalagmites in what had been a fine hall. The trolls who stand on my approach are little different from the thugs I have know throughout my long life. Eager to pit themselves against the weak, I think with disgust, When they offer no challenge, and the more artful get the weak to submit themselves willingly. More entertaining to challenge the strong and the clever. Thugs like this are merely an exercise in force.

. . . One of the scruffy males yells in a language I don't understand, but his gestures make it clear. He's not happy that they brought me, and not my books. Most of the large group of females cower, but a few exult in the discomfort of the rest. I mark my targets without warning them of their demise.

. . . A rather bedraggled lion appears in a flash of red light. The leader of the ruffians points at me and gives an order. When the lion doesn't leap forward, the man touches a gem on his wristband. The lion winces, but also noticed that neither of the pair with me are reacting.

. . . Yes, old one, I freed them, and can free you too, I think and glance at the pair, who seem to be trying to communicate with the lion.

. . . Realizing that they could not count on their standard trick, one of the exultant women grabs one of the naked women, one with dragonfly-like wings. She screams as the other twists and pulls her wings. Now the lion and the two I clothed look mournfully at me, and start towards me. They wish me no evil, but will commit mayhem to defend their friend, I realize, This shouod put them off their stride, all of them. I gesture at the victim, and she collapses bonelessly to the floor. The males are stunned by the apparent cold-blooded murder. A moment's concentration, and two stones smash into the males' heads, lightning from my hand plays over the three exultant females. The men fall, beaten and bloodied, but the women look angrily at me. One has some singed hair.

. . . Many things have changed, I realize as I prepare much stronger measures. Then all the women, and the lion, surge over the exultant trio. I walk towards the one I put to sleep and awaken her. She yawns widely as she looks at the others beating the victimizers. The two I clothed, immediately throw themselves on her, hugging her joyously and making all manner of happy sounds. I evade a grab from one of them, and drag the wounded men out of the fray. You have some answers I need, and maybe I'll let you live.

---

. . . Elgin and Seiko cuddled around Fortis and Caroline. Enjoying the feeling of hope that they'd been denied for so long. The alpha's hadn't been killed, but had been beaten and tied up.

. . . "Who is he?" Caroline asked, alone of the girls who'd refused new clothes, enjoying the minimal clothes she normally wore.

. . . The other three glared at her.

. . . "Oh, sorry," she admitted, forgetting for a moment that the trio had been recently mutilated, and how.

. . . He walked in, and all four girls felt the emotional chill surrounding him. He carried one of the massive spell books they'd been sent to collect. He also carried a bowl of something foul smelling.

. . . "He's very cold," Caroline said fearfully.

. . . He touched Elgin's nose, then opened his mouth wide. She reluctantly opened her mouth, He painted her tongue stub with the mix while chanting something that set Caroline's skin crawling.

. . . "AUGH! That tastes just . . . awful," Elgin said she turned to look at the man, but he'd moved on to Seiko, who reluctantly opened her mouth.

. . . Fortis opened her mouth for the same treatment, and reacted the same way to the awful tasting paste.

. . . "Thank you," the MysticKat told the odd man. He nodded, understanding her tone at least. He looked over the others.

. . . "It's like he's looking for minor wounds," Caroline said, "Why didn't he return your wings?"

. . . "You said it yourself, 'minor wounds'," Elgin said, and hugged her friends and lovers.

. . . "You just can't feel what he is," Seiko said, "How dangerous and evil he is."

. . . "Compared to our latest masters?" Elgin asked incredulously, "We have a test you know, one he'll either pass or fail. I suggest we try and figure out how to bridge the language gap first. Once we can communication, we can decide whether we stay or go. But if we go, how do we prevent being . . . taken - like we were before?"

. . . "You four are jumping the gun as always," a Coyotits with several missing fingers told them, "That's what got you punished before."

. . . "What are we leaving out, Karen?" Elgin asked.

. . . "Our Masters, and their Alphas are still alive," she reminded them, "And however much our new Dark Knight in shining armor might be good or evil, he's got no claim to us."

. . . "We shall see," Fortis said as she headed out to sunbathe for a while.

---

. . . I've expunged the taints of my true self from the stone of my once prison. Now I can bring them in, and not alert them, I think as the girls seem too eager to follow my orders, Somehow 'slave' seems their default state. At least there will be no need to discipline them, a show of disapproval seems all that is required. I watch them assemble themselves. The automatic hierarchical positioning. Several drag in the males and their last three remaining loyalists. I think skinning those five alive would not be in my best interests, I realize, But it will be so easy for them to betray their way into annihilation. Yes, I'm glad I decided to let them rid me of them, by their own efforts.

. . . "Can you all understand me now?" I ask, as much to get a response as to test the spell.

. . . "Yes Master," the second one says, "I understand you." Others nod or murmur their agreement.

. . . "The first action is the regeneratin of limbs, eyes, digits and so on. It will be both irritating, and elating, so a warning was in order." I pull a large crystal cut to simulate a diamond. A trivial spell within makes it glow with a faint inner light. As I cast the spell, the gem glows brighter. The first I encounter stares straight at me, then gives the five captives a sideways glance. I let a faint smile flicker on and off my face as I complete the casting.

. . . "Take them out of here," I order, "There's no reason they should sleep in the warmth when they have none themselves."

. . . The four friends take the captives out, after the captives see the hidden niche where I conceal the stone.

. . . The gasp from the coyote woman as she looks at her restored hand is gratifying. Her tackle and nearly bone-crushing hug are unexpected.

. . . "Thank you, Master, thank you, thank you!"

. . . "I am not your Master, yet," I tell her and the others, "So there is a price for my help."

. . . "Anything, Master! Anything!" she cries. The four friends are less sanguine.

. . . "What is the world outside like? What has happened in the time I have been imprisoned?" I ask them, "While not valuable to you, it is extremely valuable to me."

. . . For the next three hours, I learn that the depravity of man far exceeds any crime I have actually carried out. To wit, in a tantrum of epic proportions, a mage-engineer managed to manufacture an army of sex-slave/warriors, had a hand in several devastating plagues and then 'came to his senses' so he abandoned his armies, and his race, to their fate. A fate that hasn't been solved to their mutual satisfaction yet, I think, Typical, and a dire warning.

. . . "So, Master, why were you locked up?" the seeming leader of the four friends, and the de facto leader of the group asks. She flutters her wings nervously as I seem to consider.

. . . "I located myself some distance from any of the major villages, to continue my research," I tell them the truth.

. . . No mention of what I was researching, I think.

. . . "The locals who saw what I could do, as you did, began sending some of their daughters to me - "

. . . "You mean humans used to treat human women as they do Pokègirls?!" the first one gasps, "That's impossible!"

. . . "If you mean were they traded as prizes to the strong as bribes, were they beaten and tortured if they disobeyed, were they offered as blood sacrifices to appease the gods? Yes, of course," I tell them, "The people living here were typical of humans I'd met everywhere. They slaughtered what opposed them, and if they couldn't, they groveled until they could stab them in the back."

. . . "But the Amerinds lived in harmony with nature," one nasal voice near the back declaimed, "Only in post-Columbian times did their savagery increase."

. . . "Ah, the voice of the betrayer is heard," I tell them, causing nervous giggles among some and stone silence among others, "Such a voice told the chiefs that rather than continuously sending their most willful and troublesome girls to The Forest Spirit they should sacrifice them instead. And five years later, after the woman who'd spurned him was cold in her grave, he convinced the rest of the tribe that the killings were my idea."

. . . "How could they imprison you?" the rod-wielder asks, "You have all this knowledge."

. . . "Because what I had been doing with those troublesome girls is teaching them magic, showing them the power of self-discipline, and instructing them in the arts of war."

. . . The intensity of their expressions is frightening, I think as I look from face to face, most beaming with lust and enthusiasm.

. . . "So the children, or successors, of many of my former students banded together and used my own magic to imprison me. Although most were hoping to ransack my labs afterwards, they too were betrayed by the schemer." I nodded to the nasal one. "Who burned most alive in that antechamber, the rest he had put to death in various interesting way. He bragged to me about how it was done. Do you want to hear how to kill with a rawhide bag, or where to cut someone so they die in agony over days, or -?"

. . . The cry from the first one breaks their terrified expression and frantic head shaking. She has whipped back her cloak and pulled up her shirt to show the tiny wings slowly growing from the scars on her back.

. . . "She and the rest of you will need to eat a great deal after your healing. The mass of your tissues must come from somewhere," I warn them, and they immediately opened the packs that they had dragged into my once-prison. They bring out devices and packages covered with bright colors and odd writing.

. . . "Is fire safe in here?" their leader asks, her wing movements display her nervousness.

. . . "Heat is better than open flame, I tell them, "You intend to cook?"

. . . The leader and several of her followers nod. I point to the flat rock one of my apprentices made untold time ago. "If you are mages, then that is what you heat. It's isolated from anything that will burn. The rod wielder pulls out her rectangle plates and selects one.

. . . "Firey!" she commands. The flame spirit earths itself in the stone, which soon is providing heat enough to warm the area and cook their food.

. . . "There is one problem," the leader offers nervously, again her face might be of stone, but her wings show her true feelings.

. . . "Two, I do not know any of your names."

. . . "You aren't going to give us names?" the rod wielder asks.

. . . "If you do not have them, certainly, but I assumed you did." I offer a bow. "Forgive my ignorance of your customs."

. . . "What about the girls you trained?" the lion asks.

. . . "Most came with a name. Some, demanded a new one to separate themselves from their pasts. Others were renamed, when they were ready to leave and serve as shaman for other tribes."

. . . "So . . . we can keep our names?" the rod wielder asks, as if this was of grave import.

. . . "Only if you wish to," I answer with equal earnestness. The tide of squealing happy females rushes over to me. Save the leader, and the nasal dissident, who do not notice my seeing them eye the niche where the stone remains hidden.

. . . There are always those whose grasp exceeds their reach, I think as the squirming mass seems to be pressing in from all sides.

. . . "But I don't know your names!" I complain, and glance at leader, "They're your troops! Can't you control them?"

. . . The light on her face matches the most enthusiastic in the pack. "I'm Alpha!"

. . . "Aren't you?!" I feign confusion. And she joins the pack.

. . . Then someone makes a realization, and reacts in what seems to be a species-typical fashion. "Don't you like us Master?" someone asks as they note that my seeming is not complete.

. . . "I have not been formally introduced, but you all seem nice enough."

. . . "She wants to know if she's going to get a Taming," their leader says, "And I'm Caroline."

. . . "Then Caroline gets the first Taming," I say magnanimously, "If she can line you up and get your names out in a comprehensible list."

. . . In an instant she's pulling shoulders, ears and in a couple cases, hair to line the girls up. "Caroline, I'm a Psifey," she introduces herself.

. . . Charmed," I tell her, and she blushes.

. . . "The inseparable trio are left to right, Elgin, Seiko and Fortis, a StarMystic, MysticAngel, and MysticKat."

. . . "I hope you'll forgive my trickery," I apologize, "But I did want to escape." They stammer incomprehensibly, and blush.

. . . One who carries herself as a fighter steps up. "I'm Frank, not short for anythin'. I'm a Wu, so I fight, my posse are K, a Moriae, she doesn't talk much, O she's Cougrowl - "

. . . "Pumara," the skinny lion girl growled.

. . . "When you get Tamed hard enough you say 'Cougrowl' for hours and - "

. . . I separate the pair before they can come to blows. They seem shocked I can lift two of them at once.

. . . "Behave, or I'll name you something ridiculous, or dye you pink," I threaten. It has the desired effect, as does the others' laughter and whispered suggestions.

. . . "P and Q are slicers, and damned if I can tell them apart," Frank concludes.

. . . "I'm P."

. . . "I'm Q." The nearly identical girls tell us.

. . . The last group stands nervously looking at all the others. All were more human and normal-appearing than the others, and a great deal more nervous.

. . . They are the lowest of the low, I realize, Abused and mistreated. Other than their coloring, they are normal.

. . . I pick out the one they seem to be protecting. "You name?" I ask.

. . . "Don't you hurt her!" the most human looking shouts, then flinches as I stare at her. The others outside the group look on nervously.

. . . "Her - name," I repeat evenly, "And yours."

. . . Trapped, she glances around for an escape, but cannot find one from a prison without boundaries. "I - I don't have one."

. . . "Very well, Goyathlay, what is her name?" I ask.

. . . The girl smiles, then despairs.

. . . "Samantha," the blue-haired, green-eyed girl manages, as if the effort harmed her. The others of her group cluster around her protectively.

. . . I step away and consider Caroline, who is in frantic consultation with the rest of the four friends.

. . . "Ah. We were sent to get your books, by the University of Nuevo Tenochtitlàn. Our Ma - former Masters, were told by any means necessary," Caroline says nervously. She looks like a beating is the best she could hope for.

. . . "They want my books, but my books are dangerous. Thieving from a mage has terrible dangers. And it seems that my usual livelihood is gone. So am I to be a traveling spellcaster, bereft of my greatest source of wisdom and power? Never." I allowed my voice to lower in pitch, but subtly increase in volume, until the last sentence rolled forth like thunder. " 'Any means necessary'?" I ask Caroline and wait for her to nod. "How many of you would wish to come with me? I am not the easiest Master, demanding far more of you that you will believe you can attain."

. . . Rather than the mad rush or a babble, all the girls, even in Goyathlay's camp raised their hands. The enthusiasm varies, but the drive remains the same, I realize.

. . . "Very well. I think I shall demand a position of grand respect and power, and I shall oversee what lessons and experiments are wise, and thus permitted."

. . . "Senior Faculty," Samantha manages, again as if dragged from her by force.

. . . "And whatever laws are in place that grant the status of ownership, that too I shall demand."

. . . "All of us?" P asks.

. . . "No," I tell them, letting their uncertainty drag them down, "Only those who wish it."

. . . Those five traitor will show me how such are disposed of in this world, I do not even hint, as the others eagerly display their willingness to follow. Although following me into a sexual liaison seems the most popular destination.

. . . "Master," one of the human looking ones asks, blue eyes and red hair, "Can you be a little shorter, if this is just an assumed shape? You're too hard to kiss way up there?"

. . . "Name?" I ask.

. . . "Jericho . . . ah, please can you be more . . . accessible?"

. . . I adjust my height and she instantly throws her arms around my neck and snuggles against me. "I take it you approve," I comment.

. . . "Oh yes."

. . . "Now I know you mentioned it earlier. What exactly is involved in 'Taming'?"

---

. . . The faint footsteps woke none of the girls, thanks in no small part to their enthusiastic activities. The figure of one of the 'Alphas' can be made out despite the darkness.

. . . How are you going to get a glowing stone out of the room filled with sleeping enemies? I wonder, And if you think to slay then, it will go hard on you.

. . . She holds a large bag over the opening of the niche, and her traitor friend creeps in. She throw nervous glances at me, and the others, yet none move save in the throes of dreams. I move not a muscle, watching through the darkness as they grab the gem through the bag, and wrap it up, before slipping out.

. . . Let us see if my Jusenkyo-effect has the desired effect, I think as they slip out.

. . . I wait until they have all left, before I release the spell. I carefully waken the naked, winged woman clinging to my arm as if she were clinging to life itself.

. . . "Huh, Master?" she asks as she snuggles against me.

. . . "They stole the gem, poor children need to be collected, before they hurt themselves," I tell her.

. . . The scream from outside awakens the rest.

. . . "They evidently didn't believe me when I warned against stealing from a wizard," I tell them as I get up, and lead a very sleepy group out through the antechamber and out in to the moonlight. Seiko waited, her blade bared and the frightened pack cowering before her.

. . . "They are some rather valuable girls," the angry woman says.

. . . A busty, black catgirl keeps touching herself, as if not believing her transformation. A furred elephant look blearily at the others, refusing to look at herself. Another is a sheeplike girl, who takes up a combat stance, and is immediately surrounded by Frank's entire group. A girl who might be referred to as handsome, but never beautiful. A girl over twice the height of the handsome one, and barely half as attractive. The last, seems to wear dozens if not hundreds of belts.

. . . "I didn't want that to happen to her," Caroline whispers.

. . . "Neither you, nor I chose her form," I soothe the girl, "Only she, and blind fate had a hand in this. I suspect that she will have much time to atone."

. . . "You can't Tame us! You can't! We're guys! You can't Tame us!" the busty catgirl yowls. Her fellow once-human nods and stares plaintively.

. . . "If I order them to hold you down, while I Tamed you endlessly . . . " I tell them, and smile at the terrified shudders, "What could you do to stop me?"

. . . "Not that," one whines, earning a look of disgust from the handsome girl.

. . . The furry elephant girl; throws herself to the ground. "I surrender anything but - " She vanishes in a pool of red light. It's all I can do not to hiss in shock. Elgin lowers a red and white ball. Then aims another at the catgirl, and another at the handsome girl. Both disappear into red light that vanishes into the ball.

. . . "I think I hate those things," I warn, as the giant also disappears.

. . . "They're Pokèballs, Master," she tells me, "You're immune."

. . . I won't feel same unless I've tested that, I realize.

. . . The sheep-like girl is led over, not dragged or beaten, and thrown at my feet. "Please Tame me Master," she says without conviction.

. . . "No," I say, and nod to Elgin. Another girl becomes red light. I shudder. The last girl is the one I am concerned by. All the girls have clustered around her, and she seems terrified by the attention.

. . . The ball seems the easiest answer, but there is a risk in becoming too dependant on it's power. Like any one tactic.

. . . I move up, the girls parting as I push through. The glowing blue eyes bore into me and her body tenses for flight. My instinct is to grab her by the scruff of the neck and drag her inside, I think, But that never worked on my more skittish students. I suppose I'll have to put up with it, although I have no need to be so patient with the others. The eyes of all the girls bore into me, but none will look into my eyes.

. . . "What?"

. . . "Don't you know what breed she is?" Caroline asks, her own expression a mix of terror and fury.

. . . "No, I have been locked up for quite some time. As for the magic, it took whatever was inside them, and changed them. I wouldn't have the knowledge to direct such a thing. That's where all of you come in."

. . . A lie, I think as they relax, and look upon the girl with pity, rather than horror, But it served, and mostly it was the truth.

. . . Seiko offers me a small device. "If you want, I can . . . adjust the Pokèdex to work for you."

. . . "Illegal," Samantha hisses.

. . . "It's full of those mazes for - electrons, correct? Which path decides what it does?" I ask. Seiko nods.

. . . Time to put a stop to this as well, I think as I walk towards Samantha, incidently leaving the path open for the traitor to flee, if she wishes. She follows, as do all the others. Interesting.

. . . "I do not fully understand this world, so I do not understand your problem."

. . . "The Law is a Jenny's first Tamer," Jericho says disdainfully, "And it's her only real lover."

. . . Samantha hisses dangerously, but Jericho refuses to back down. "Fat lotta good the Law did ME!"

. . . "He was punished," Samantha manages, as though the words were blades drawn back out of her flesh.

. . . "He still did what he did, and you lot only came in after!" Jericho shouts.

. . . "Enough!" I command, "So, the Law permits the brutalization, disfigurement, even murder of thinking, feeling creatures. I speak of Fortis and Seiko, yet is appalled at the tricking of a handful of tiny particles to go where they had not? Such is your Law, such is the source and center of your worship?"

. . . Samantha glares, but offers no answer.

. . . "Such rules are forged to chain those who would abide them, not those who would not. The one who murdered his victims and dozens of others to disguise his revenge, then bound me in that cave was the Law. Who spoke for the fallen, who spoke for the wrongfully accused, who spoke for those who lived under tyranny? Now, with your mazes for electrons, your boxes that send commands a thousand leagues, your great web of information accessible at your finger tips, what do you do to prevent such crimes? I have the evidence of my own eyes that screams 'nothing'. Tell me, how far would you pursue a man who stole food for his family? A month, a year, a lifetime? And what would your punishment be? A debt he could not pay? Imprisonment, so he couldn't feed them? Perhaps a beating or branding so he could never work again? Is this the grand edifice of your Law? Is this what you have invested your life in? Something that anyone who whispers in the right ears and gives presents to the right hands can have twisted and changed at a whim? Silence Jericho, I wish to hear her answer."

. . . The agony on Samantha's face and the twitching of her limbs showed a deeper battle going on than one of pure philosophy.

. . . "Nothing? Very well. At the first . . . Pokècenter, you may report us to the Law, and I will accept the penalties. And you will remain behind."

. . . Samantha flinched at that.

. . . "I would not keep you from your true love, that would be cruel," I tell her and march back into the antechamber, and the place that was once my prison.

. . . I hear the girl break down in sobs. Let the others console her, I think, I will hear their arguments. But I have disposed of one traitor, I will dispose of another. I look at the device. And I will have to learn the language used here.

---

. . . "What did you expect?" Elgin asks Samantha, as they walked rearguard, "It's a bloody 'dex, and he's out here without one. You could have pointed out he could get in trouble, but you had throw the Law into it. He's doing what hundreds have done when they recovered a lost 'dex to replace theirs, and you act as though he was raping a Pureline."

. . . "It's illegal," Samantha said firmly.

. . . "Jericho's right about you. Don't look at me like that! I know you're trying to kick it, but that doesn't stop you from coming off as clever as a BuzzBreast, and about as independent as one too."

. . . "Jericho knows nothing."

. . . "Jericho knows your Tamer murdered her in cold blood and you did nothing, because she was 'resisting arrest'. She also knows that she had evidence of his corruption that may have been obtained illegally, but which is the greater crime, sending Storage girls to the mills, or hacking someone's computer?"

. . . "The Law was clear," Samantha replied.

. . . "You are hopeless," Elgin said, "Seiko and Fortis may have forgiven you, but I won't."

. . . The group halted. Fortis had returned from scouting ahead. "We have a problem," the MysticKat told the others, "A big one."

. . . "I wonder if our new Master's magic can match a Widow," Goyathlay joked.

. . . "Not funny," Elgin said, "You're lucky he can't fully understand us, yet."

. . . "Well, it's not that big, but it's nearly that. A pack of vampires, and all wearing 'R's on their evening dress."

. . . "You want to explain to him about Team Rocket?" Elgin asked Caroline.

. . . "I hate Vampires!" Seiko said.

. . . "I hate Team Rocket," Jericho added, "But the real problem is they might have more right to capture us than our Master does to keep us." She turned to Samantha. "Isn't that the Law, if they are Tamers, and Master isn't?"

. . . The Officer Jenny hissed at her.

. . . "I speak," their Master said, his rumbling bass brooking no argument, "Enemy, crush enemy. Understood?"

. . . The others nodded. "Makes sense," Caroline said, "With his magics to cover us, we might just get right up alongside them."

. . . "What if they're after the books?" Goyathlay asked, pointing at the burden the Penance carried.

. . . Even their Master's expression darkened at that.

. . . "Our wonderful Masters got sent, and now someone else is trying to intercept them," Caroline thought aloud, "I think that shows the luck we can expect. They probably blabbed at some bar."

. . . "What do we do?" Karen asked forcefully.

. . . "How many?" Caroline asked.

. . . "Six Tamers, and at least 14 Vampires, but if they are like most Teams, they'll probably have oversized Harems."

. . . "Leave," their Master said, "River Pass, teleport range."

. . . "Aw, you mean we can't have some grand hopeless battle with tragic losses on both sides and our Master raking in the bounties for a hundred Feral Vampires?" Jericho asked and pouted.

. . . "No," their Master said, then explained, "Smile." He began returning the girls to their balls. Caroline noted the shivers he had as he did it. In moments, they were alone.

. . . "Not me?" she asked.

. . . "No, guide," he said as he collected the stack of heavy, bound books from the Penance's Pokepack. A moment later, they stood outside the suburbs of a good sized village.

. . . "Now we can talk," he said, "Without spooking the others. They might accept me picking up bits of the language in a few days, but not gaining fluency."

. . . "If you hadn't copied the data from my mind, I wouldn't believe it."

. . . "I'll need a few days before the word-choice and cadences become my own, until then I sound too much like you," her Master told her, "What is our story?"

. . . She smiled and remembered what they'd rehearsed. "You were traveling, as a wizard, and we attached ourselves to you for protection. We had all our Masters' gear, and your suspicion is that they were killed by either a Feral, or during the creation of the Penance. I'll truthfully say I didn't see the act, and that when I got there, our Tamers were gone, the Penance was there, and that you had been away from the area. All of which is true."

. . . "And if they ask if you're hiding anything?"

. . . "I'll tell them about the abuse of all the girls, so much so that our former Masters and Alphas are insane, that Samantha is delusional - she's not bad - it's just that the . . . actions of her Master and some of the things she's going through have left her a little . . . warped."

. . . "She'd betray us as swiftly as the now-Penance would and I won't stand for that. Besides, if she was a good police officer, she can be again, with treatment I cannot give her."

. . . Caroline frowned at that. "I still think she could come with us."

. . . "Jericho knows the Law well enough, and I sense part of Samantha's problem is whatever happened to Jericho that all of you have carefully hidden from me."

. . . "Master - I - "

. . . "I know it is hidden, and that you don't trust me. As long as she is not a thief, I am not concerned."

. . . "I can assure you, she is not a thief," Caroline said, "Should we walk to the Pokècenter?"

. . . "Do you know where it is?" he asked.

. . . "Never been here before, but there's got to be a map in the 'dex," she pulled the other Pokèdex they had with them, and scanned it. "On the left, but near the center of town."

. . . "Then we fly. If I am a wizard, lord of all I survey, I shall act the part."

. . . The pair lifted into the air and flew over the town.

. . . "I should have wore my underwear," she told him as she shrank to her smaller size and hovered into his slipstream, "I could get in trouble flashing the entire community."

. . . They landed outside the Pokècenter, and had already collected quite a crowd. Caroline fought to remain poised and in control. Her Master opened the door for her, and swept the crowd with a scathing glance, convincing all, save one small child, to run away.

. . . "I live there," the child told him, and walked through the door while he held it open.

. . . The NurseJoy behind the desk was pretty, but graying, clearly a Pokèwoman. The much younger and more nervous Enchantress behind her was ready to jump out of her skin.

. . . "Hi'mEvalinedoyouneedapprenticeIcanlotsthingnotadvertisekinkysexifinto that!" she stammered, leaning over the counter to both show off her cleavage and her frenzy to have a Master.

. . . "Hi I'm Evaline do you need an apprentice I can do lots of thing and I'm not adverse to kinky sex if you're into that!" the child translated, while the Joy hung her head.

. . . "Not the approach I'd take," Caroline said, "My Harem sisters need to go through a Healing cycle, and these need a Level 5 Taming. They did not take the loss of our Masters well." She handed over five balls out of the sack, then hesitantly put out the sixth. "I think you can see why I'm not so mournful."

. . . The NurseJoy paled as she scanned the last ball. "Did she . . . ?"

. . . "She didn't have time, but I suspect that whoever did, didn't face much opposition. We joined him almost a whole day later."

. . . "I'll have to report this," the Joy said apologetically, "The death of a Tamer has to be answered. Even if they did make one of their girls into a Penance."

. . . Caroline nodded. "The rest just need cleaning and grooming cycles." She paused to consider. "Is the local police force good? I mean fair, to everyone."

. . . "We aren't Windy Shores, if that's what you're asking."

. . . "One of the girls is an Officer Jenny, and I think she's . . . she's getting over being Tenebrous, and she sees things. Poor girl. Maybe being in a less abusive environment . . . "

. . . The Joy smiled. "I think I can arrange that. They have a hard time getting officers, when the bright lights and the highway beckons."

. . . Caroline nodded.

---

. . . The Officer has taken the others away. She sits on the other side of the table. Her smile is professional. "We have the statement of several of the Pokègirls - "

. . . "There is a pack of Team Rocket types with a flock of Vampires as their Harems, they are only a few miles to the south. I didn't recognize the connection, until I'd been here a while."

. . . The officer blinked. "Why didn't you say something about this before?"

. . . "Because the girls were always present. They were treated horribly, but will feel terribly guilty if they thought they could have done something to save their former Masters," he said, "I could have taken action to save them, if I had been more favorably inclined to them. Which I admit, I wasn't."

. . . "Considering that you were facing overwhelming odds," the officer said as she began collecting her notes, "I can't really fault you, but you did waste considerable time - "

. . . "I did specifically request that I be interviewed alone," he replied, "Apparently I need them, I was not going to heap despair on their heads. Five of them lost their minds to the guilt, even thinking they were those lost. I had absolutely no intention of inflicting that on the others. Is the Level 5 sufficient to restore them to some semblance of health and sanity?"

. . . "They've lost their skills, but they've also lost their memories, so they should recover. Are you interested in taking them?"

. . . "Not really. They treated the others terribly," he replied, "They might not remember what they've done, but the others do. That's not fair to the newly innocent girls."

. . . "Agreed. There's already a few offers for them. You could get a fair amount of money. If you were a Tamer."

. . . "I am just awaiting the results of my test. Then I shall sell them, and take my Harem on to my destination."

. . . "Where's that?"

. . . "Nuevo Tenochtitlàn, they appear to want my property, so I will make a deal with them," he replied, "A Full Professorship. If they want the contents, then I will regulate and assist the learning."

. . . "Very reasonable," the officer said as she closed her book, "Maybe I could offer you an Enchantress." She sighed. "Just to keep her from helping people arounf here."

---

Eponymous, Part 3 - New Challenges

. . . Morgan stretched as she was released once again from long-term storage. She glanced at the calendar as she worked out the kinks that being held in stasis always seemed to create in her body, despite being incorporeal the entire time. Fourteen months this time, she thought, That's ten months early. She noted the others who were adjusting themselves to being out in the world once again.

. . . "What happened?" Angela asked, the ArchAngel stretching out her wings, "Your family finally used up all the money and have to sell you to keep their lawyers fighting?"

. . . Morgan frowned at the other Pokèwoman. Those idiots wonder why my Master left the family? she thought, Of course not, and they then use up more money fighting over who'll sell me, than they could ever get for my sale. She paused to consider her Master, dead over 25 years, Except I've only lived less than a year after he died. The rest of the time I spent in Long-Term Storage. Same as some of the others here . . . wait a second, what's going on?

. . . She watched the others come to the same realization that she had.

. . . "What is going on?" Janice, the Enchantress, demanded, focusing on the pair who'd evaded Morgan's attention and the others.

. . . The boy looked darkly gleeful. The girl just looked miserable.

. . . Couple of teenagers, Morgan thought as she tensed. Her eyes caught the broken arm, cuts on the body and face, bandaged hands, and the worn spot on the girl's slacks on the opposite side of her broken arm. Fighting type, someone broke her arm, then chopped her up. She concentrated on the boy, giving him the same experienced examination. Okay, he's no novice either, but he's no hand-to-hand fighter in any case, she thought as she watched his face as he endured the scrutiny, You don't really have any use for Pokègirls, do you? Except . . . why her? I thought - ah, she's not in your Harem, she's your relative.

. . . "Hello." The girl, still in her teens, walked out and flinched at the attention from some fifteen high-level Pokègirls and Pokèwomen. "I'm Jessica Atkinson, my brother Jamie," the girl's voice cracked as her hand dropped to closed on the blade that isn't there, "We need, help." The tears form, but she tries not to cry.

. . . Angela looked at Morgan, and nodded. Janice fell in behind Morgan as the pair approached the boy, while Angela hugged the girl with her arms and wings. Morgan changed to her battle mode, revealing her Wolf Queen status as she looked down from just short of 11 feet. The boy bristled at their approach, but showed no fear.

. . . "I don't really care what you think about 'uppity' Pokègirls," Morgan said, "Your - sister - got chopped up pretty bad."

. . . Guessed right, Morgan thought as the boy barely reacted, While her sobbing disgusts you, you're more afraid of breaking down yourself.

. . . Morgan glanced at Angela cooing soothingly to the now sobbing girl. She returned her attention back to the boy. "Did any of the rest of your Harem survive? And what the hell were you fighting?"

. . . "I can take care of myself," the boy said, "My sister thinks I need looking after. I -" A coughing fit interrupted what he was. The girl broke away from Angela and rushed to the boy's side. Janice tugged on Morgan's tail, to lead her away.

. . . "I hate that," Morgan said quietly as she returned to her passive form and yanked her tail free.

. . . "Tell someone who cares," the Enchantress said.

. . . Bitch, Morgan thought as the girl got the boy's coughing under control.

. . . Angela approached the other two. "That Slicer is his sister, older. She's been his major domo and diplomat. They're monster hunters, and they got jumped."

. . . "Them?" Janice said, "The boy yes, but the girl."

. . . Angela snorted her derision.

. . . "Look, do you two want out of here as bad as I do?" Morgan asked, and grinned as the two looked at each other and grimaced.

. . . They hate each other as much I hate Janice, but I can work with Angela, and if we join up, Janice ceases to be my problem, Morgan thought, then walked back to the two youngsters.

. . . "I've got a proposition for you," Morgan said, "You are a mage, powerful enough that Enchantress can detect it. You need fighters to keep the mooks off you while you hunt monsters, and someone to support you magically, while you make your attacks."

. . . Shocked you didn't I? she thought of the pair's stunned expression, Let's set the hook.

. . . "I'll make a deal," she said, "The three of us can pick out who you need. They'll be troops who won't need much attention, but can keep the mooks at bay, take care of the day-to-day mundane magic stuff and keep you and your sister healthy and alive. The question is, how are you going to get us out? I'm part of an estate in another League that has yet to be settled. Janice's ownership is disputed among three separate Leagues, Angela is . . . likewise unavailable."

. . . "Vale, the PLC, the SLIS and Nuevo Tenochtitlàn have agreed I can have any unclaimed girl in long-term storage. The fifteen of you were some of the best, and I can have any or all of you I need."

. . . 'Need', she thought, Not want. I can live with that. He doesn't really want us. Frankly, what he needs is a spanking, or a hug. I think he'd react to either the same way. He doesn't need a cuddly girl, he doesn't need people. So what does he need?

. . . "All right. What do you think of my proposal? What size force, and what other limitations do you have?"

. . . The boy sneered, but before he could insult Morgan, he tensed, trying to stifle another coughing fit. He waved his sister away and got control. "We took on a Mantis, I had it. Then we found out it was two. The second caught us by surprise. Can you handle that?"

. . . Morgan considered, hiding her smile. She looked at Janice and Angela, who nodded. "Yeah, we can handle that, and we'll find the ones you need. Anything we should be worried about?" She ignored the challenging look on his face, then caught the swift and hidden glance to his sister.

. . . Okay, you try to hide that, she thought, We can keep that our secret too. She doesn't need to know.

---

. . . The Harem marched out of the Pokècenter. Morgan looked around and realized she wasn't in Longcock. "You transmitted us?"

. . . "Yes," the boy said, leaning heavily on the older, but still gorgeous Nurse Joy. His sister, the Slicer, flexed her fingers and carefully extended and moved her arms.

. . . "Better?" Angela asked the girl.

. . . "Yes, thank you," she said quietly, then raised her voice, "Thank all of you." She looked straight at her brother. "My brother is not the most diplomatic person." She ignored his warning growl.

. . . "Neither are most of us," Morgan said, "I can tolerate a little roughness, as long as he respects what we do."

. . . "I don't need any help," he said.

. . . This is getting monotonous, Morgan thought, Time to deal with this.

. . . "Maybe you haven't thought about it," Morgan said nonchalantly, "But while Mantises can work in a team, they never form the team themselves."

. . . Morgan let the youngsters consider for a moment. "That means someone with two Mantises sent them after you. That means it wasn't a menace attack, it was an assassination attempt."

. . . The Slicer, Jessica gasped. Jaime's eyes narrowed as he considered.

. . . Well, well, well, not so invulnerable now are you? Morgan wondered.

. . . "That means the meat shield you don't need is the only thing that might keep you alive," he told the arrogant young mage.

. . . He stared in shock at Pokèwoman. "You can either let yourself get killed, or you can trust us to do the job you pulled us out of storage to do. I assume you had us checked out, so why are you second guessing your own criteria now?" she asked, then walked away from him, ignoring the completely stoic expressions on the others that hid the laughter none would show. The Medra, Betty landed beside her.

. . . "Nice ploy, turning his arrogance against him. But what are we going to do to keep him from destroying himself?"

. . . "What we have to," Morgan replied.

. . . "Then you might want to consider the possibility that Mr. High-and-Mighty might have just Recognized one of his guards, and is terrified of doing the same again, and losing her."

. . . "He may have grown fond of her, but he didn't Recognize her," Morgan replied, "I've seen what happens when a Tamer loses the girl he's Recognized. Tough as that kid is, he isn't tough enough to live through that."

. . . "Ah, personal experience, I stand corrected. Still, don't ride him too hard. He's still a kid, despite what he thinks, and what he's trying to convince the world of."

. . . "I stand corrected," Morgan replied as they stopped. The grav car that approached them lacked the usual markings of a government car. But the people who climbed out were stereotypical mages: robes, staves and arrogance.

. . . "Dean Mailer," Jaime said, as he pushed past the perimeter, "What brings you out here."

. . . "The books moved," the leader of the group said.

. . . Either he's remembered about my hearing, and he wants me to know, Morgan thought, Or he's forgotten and he doesn't.

. . . "Where are they?" Jaime demanded.

. . . "River Pass, and you may have to take them away from someone."

. . . "Not a problem," he assured the older wizard.

. . . The old man nodded and the trio got back into the car.

. . . I've got a bad feeling about this, Morgan thought as their new Master addressed them.

. . . "We have a new destination, and a mission," he said, "A mission of great importance."

. . . "He doesn't always give speeches," Jessica said, "Just when he's excited."

. . . "Like when he caused your Threshold?" Betty asked as she coiled and uncoiled her body, "Don't deny it, it's obvious."

. . . "He never meant for that to happen!" Jessica replied defensively, "It was an accident, it was the only way to save my life, it was . . . "

. . . It was the day that your life ended, and he's never forgiven himself, or you, for what happened, Morgan realized and looked at the Medra, This is going to take a lot of untangling.

---

. . . "What did they say, Master?" Elgin asked happily, as she and the four friends exited one of the Taming Rooms at the center.

. . . "They agreed to all my terms, even agreed to sending a representative to sign the deal," he told her as they walked outside in the sunlight. The kit had followed them at a discrete distance, but followed, as she had since the group had arrived.

. . . "Why does that trouble you?" she asked, catching his mood and his arm.

. . . Despite my misgivings, he's far better than our previous Masters, she thought as she and the others all smiled at him, I wish I could give him what he desires, but I suspect even he doesn't really know. So he plays games, challenges himself and us. Samantha leaving was expected, but adding Evaline, that scatterbrained, sex-crazed amateur . . . pushed Caroline to her limits and that is what he wanted. And me, trying to insert information and commonsense in that thick head, instead of my fists.

. . . "If someone instantly agrees to your terms, they are cheating you," he said, barely noticing the beautiful body pressed against his, seeing and enjoying only the active mind. "And they agreed quite eagerly. So either I seriously underestimated the worth. Or they have no intension of paying at all."

. . . "We'll be ready for them."

. . . "Alive, if practicable," he said quietly.

. . . "Sir?"

. . . "I would prefer they be alive, but do not endanger yourselves. I can question their spirits as easily as their living forms. But . . . the living are better for sending messages."

. . . "Yes, sir," she said worriedly, "Practical, sir. I think the word is 'practical.'"

. . . "As you wish," he said.

---

. . . What are we doing, Smith asked, and for once, received silence instead of a smug answer. He glanced into the rearview mirror at Ms. Esquire, in the arms of the Cherub, who gazed down on her lovingly. I asked you a question.

. . . Oh, sorry, I was just enjoying driving, that's what we're doing, driving, the voice replied, but missing the normally sardonic edge, You didn't have a location in mind, so I thought I'd help and pick one.

. . . You're driving the speed limit, and following all the traffic laws. What's going on?

. . . I think she likes a bit of roughing it, the voice said, worrying Smith even more, Although I suspect a motel, or hotel at the trip's end will be expected. Leaving like that probably gets her out of the . . .

. . . Smith briefly considered applying the brake, or even turning around. Then looked at the Tanuki riding shotgun. "Where?"

. . . "First big town is River Pass, and if we keep going, assuming we don't drown, is Paradise Valley," she explained quietly, "Do you have any idea how awful a wet Tanuki smells?"

. . . "Arizona used to be forested, then the natives cut down all the trees, until it was desert. Now it has all the water it could ever want," he said, "How soon to River Pass?"

. . . "Two hours, assuming no bathroom breaks or fuel stops."

. . . Two hours, the voice said, Plenty of time.

. . . What are you playing at? he asked, and only an unnerving silence responded.

---

. . . Sword rang on axe and spear, Frank's blade matched the two Slicers easily. But that wasn't the point of the exercise.

. . . "Behind me," Frank called out, indicating the MysticKat's relative position.

. . . He nodded to the Kunochi and she tried to approach the HeroWu by stealth, while the Moriae K made a steady advance and the MysticKat maneuvered to take advantage of an open flank.

. . . Frank maneuvered to put P and Q between her and K, and called out, "Left flank, and directly behind." Highlighting the Kunochi and MysticKat's positions.

. . . Then he sent in his reserves, Seiko and Karen. The HeroWu could barely keep up parrying all the attacks coming at her.

. . . "Enough," he called, and the troops pulled back. "When it requires five combatants, and two distractions to defeat you, I think you've earned the place of teacher, rather than student."

. . . Frank bowed, and he nodded in return. He looked at Jericho and considered the missing Enchantress and four friends. "The new weapons live up to your expectation?"

. . . He instantly had the overjoyed Wu kneeling between his legs and hugging him tightly. "Oh yes Master, so much so, thank you!" she nearly chirped at him.

. . . "Then perhaps adding Evaline was not so foolish?" he teased, forcing the girl to blush.

. . . "No Master, not so foolish," Frank admitted, "Just . . . hard on us?"

. . . "I thought you liked it hard," he teased along every single one of the girls' favorite lines.

. . . They all giggled nervously.

. . . "Now, I think the fireworks will commence," he told them all, "And you'll have to forgive Goyathlay, O and our Dark Elf, they failed, but as I expected," he told them as he gestured at the pile of ancient books that appeared at his side. "Now, we must all be ready."

---

. . . The PiniElf and Enchantress touched each of the snoozing trio, first numbing them to the movements around them, then sending them into a deep sleep. The Charred Plussy and Symbiote Miboobsy waited until the Enchantress was through checking for mystical traps, before they pulled book after book from beneath the Ingenue, Pumara, and Dark Elf. They withdrew, allowing the wards to slip back to their normal state, and they teleported back to their Master.

---

. . . "Easy," Janice crowed, "Once you got past the wards, it was simple."

. . . " 'Simple'?" Morgan asked quickly, "Wouldn't you have multiple layers of defense?"

. . . "Sure, anyone smart would," the arrogant Enchantress told her, "But these books aren't even trapped. I guess it would hurt the precious things."

. . . "So you just grabbed them?" Jessica asked, then made a grab for her brother as he rushed past her and Marge for the treasure. "NO!" she screamed as she and the Wolf Queen tried to tackle him.

. . . What followed was the dampest, most corpulent, preponderantly flatulent, and above all purplest explosion in the history of the North American continent.

. . . The thoroughly blue-berried Slicer rolled on the ground, until she bumped into her equally round and purple brother. "For the record," she shouted, "I do blame you for this!"

. . . "I can fix this!" he complained back, "Somehow."

. . . "You know," Angela said, "When I said I loved the wide open spaces. Looking at your naked, purple butt wasn't what I had in mind, oh seer of magical traps."

. . . "Oh SHUT UP!" the Enchantress shouted back.

---

. . . Uh, this is what I was rushing to avoid, the voice told him as they braked at the large, round, and purple roadblock.

. . . "A Jokette archmage?" the Esquire commented as she woke to the sight, "There was a movie like this I think."

. . . "Two," his Fallen Angel said as she stepped out of the car and checked for the cause of the six-foot round, purple spheres with tiny hands, feet and heads. She poked one and jumped back as it growled at her.

. . . The normally stoic Tanuki got out of the car, tears streaming down her cheeks, her near dormant artistic sense awakened. "I . . . I . . . I must meet the architect of this," she managed wistfully, "This .. . this . . . this is true genius."

. . . I suppose trying for a posting on the League's space station is out of the question? the voice asked nervously.

. . . What are you afraid of!? he demanded.

. . . 'Afraid', not 'afraid, the voice wheedled in return, Just - cautious, yeah, that's it, cautious of something that could do that.

. . . Uh huh, he thought as he got out of the car, and noted that Esquire slipped in behind him, rather closely behind him. No comment on that? he asked his constant companion.

. . . Huh? What, no comment on ... what?

. . . "Never mind," he whispered, too rattled by the change in personality to be comfortable dealing with the events.

. . . "So do we squeeze'em?" his Fallen Angel asked, eyeing the obvious and helpless angel-type, "Or poke'em with a pin?"

. . . "DON'T POP US!" the huge blueberry wearing the NurseJoy hat wailed.

. . . "Lets make sure we don't end up like them first," his Charlie Angel said firmly, before taking flight to scout the area with her eyes and her spells.

. . . "Where's the local Pokècenter," he asked. A moment later the Cherub retrieved the map the Tanuki had been reading.

. . . "A few miles," she said, "Shouldn't we roll them off the main road?"

. . . "Nobody is touching anything, until we know it's safe," he warned, "Including you, councillor."

. . . "No problem there," she replied.

---

. . . He stood with his Harem as the vehicle approached. The taint of his counterstroke could be smelled by the mystically talented of the group. The group that climbed out of and off the ground car seemed too small to be a threat to his girls, or even him. Save one of them, their apparent leader.

. . . "The youth has the seeming of the one who locked me away," he warned the four friends. They bristled at the possibility, but remained in the formation.

. . . Then the leader stepped in front of the youth. The tension between the two was palpable. The sword-armed girl tried to placate the young man who reeked of magic, and held the taint of the transformation.

. . . The older man does not, he thought, Interesting.

. . . Two women detached themselves from the group, and approached. An older NurseJoy, and a human woman.

. . . "You are the owner of the books?" the blonde human woman asked.

. . . "Yes," the Dark Elf said and stepped up, interposing herself between the groups.

. . . "And you are?" the woman addressed him.

. . . "Librius Bookman," the Dark Elf said seriously.

. . . "I thought Masters were supposed to name Pokègirls," he said and smiled.

. . . "Who needs a name?" the Dark Elf said.

. . . "Mr. - Bookman, I understand you were offering your books, but not for sale."

. . . "I was attempting to make them available, but still retain some limits on who and how. I was extremely disappointed that my offer was not even negotiated."

. . . "I suspect you were not being negotiated with in good faith," the human said, "Perhaps you would consider a new agreement."

. . . "I suspect that your services would be expensive," he said.

. . . " 'A workman is know for his work', as is a woman's," she said.

. . . He gestured at a couple of soda cans that sat outside the trash can they belonged in. They flew to his hands. The woman struggled not to show her interest, but was not amazed by magic casually used. He crushed the empty cans and spoke words under his breath. The girls shifted uneasily, but yards away, the young man quit arguing with the older man. A moment later he was finished, and tossed what he'd created to the woman. "I am told these crystals are extremely valuable, and their value increases exponentially with their size. The effect of the rutile inclusions has always appealed to me."

. . . "This star sapphire is at least 100 to 150 carats," she said in amazement.

. . . "Yes," he replied. He felt the four friends' eyes on him. "I expect you will act as mediator, rather than solely as advocate. The deal should be one that both sides can accept, not one they will have to settle for."

. . . Such a trivial thing that brings them joy, he thought, Maybe the woman will provide a more entertaining challenge. While my harem are useful guards and guides. They are too compliant for real fun.

. . . "I'm certain something can be arranged. With such a spirit in mind, I think we can start clean: our young mage didn't respect you, and you made him respect you. Now we can come to a more amenable transaction."

. . . "Perhaps," he replied.

. . . So, the child thinks he is a man, he thought, By right of power I assume. A youth who thinks himself in the fullness of adulthood. It will be enjoyable. Training him on his follies.

. . . The other group arrived, approaching warily. Several of his puffed out their cheeks and pantomimed expanding and inflating. The others glared or quailed, as per their nature.

. . . "You have some books you are interested in selling?" the older man said.

. . . "I had intended to make them available," he replied, "But they are far too valuable and dangerous to simply fling them onto the unsuspecting world."

. . . "I'm hardly 'the unsuspecting world'," the youth growled.

. . . "No, but I've been asked to ignore what you are," he replied smoothly, "For the good of the negotiations."

. . . "You're fast councillor," the older man said.

. . . "I am Librius Bookman, and you are?"

. . . Introductions commenced, but what ever the entity residing in Lieutenant Smith was, it did not deign to reveal itself.

---

. . . He knows I'm here! He knows you're hiding me! He knows! the voice whined inside his head.

. . . What are you so frightened - sorry, concerned about? he replied, You don't care about anything. Normally.

. . . I'm very concerned about things, normally, but this isn't a normal time, he isn't a normal . . . angel of the pit. He's perverse, and devious and . . . scary.

. . . I have this vision of you telling me that, and hiding somewhere I can't hear you, and giggling. Just because of the misunderstandings you create between us, he thought back, He's got a Blessed MysticAngel in his harem, and while she seems wary of him, she's satisfied to watch and wait.

. . . Of course she is! She's a Pokègirl, she's his Pokègirl. How many Pokègirl have been beaten, berated, betrayed -

. . . I get the alliterative attack, he interrupted, And go crawling back to their abusive Masters. It's the reason Domestic Disputes are even worse now than they were before Pokègirls. Because if the Pokègirls are split between the spouses, you can have a full scale war in an instant.

. . . So she's hardly a credible witness to his acceptability. He's already wrapping the Esquire around his little finger.

. . . She's already proven she can be bought, so he bought her, he replied, Besides, how much is just attoney-client shmoozing, and how much is her just switching patrons?

. . . This - one - is - truly - dangerous, the voice told him.

. . . But I have you to watch him, he replied. The stunned silence from his garrulous friend was rapturous joy beyond belief.

. . . "Sir, are you an SLIS agent?" a Psifey, Librius's alpha, asked him.

. . . "No, but I have a good friend who is. Do you need an SLIS agent?"

. . . "Not as such," she said, "I don't know how much you'd heard. Ah, there's another member of the Harem, one he - inherited - from our former Masters. A Penance."

. . . He grimaced at that. What no comment on that? he asked, No snarky reply about 'stick it in and fix her'?

. . . No, sorry.

. . . "I can't say I'm not happy that someone who created a Penance came to a bad end," he told the girl, "But how does that affect what's happening here?"

. . . "He took her in, and has been - caring - for her." She bowed her head, as if ashamed of the admission.

. . . "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

. . . "I'm not sure, it like he does nice things, because he knows it will mess with our heads. We can feel what he is, what you are too, but he doesn't act like he should."

. . . "We'll find out. Those books seem to be the key," he replied and considered.

---

. . . The Pokècenter's conference room was the only public space that was dusty. Both Jaime and Librius had tried to show off by cleaning it. The resulting hurricane amused everyone except them.

. . . "Those books should be made public domain and -"

. . . "No, too dangerous," Librius countered Jaime's demand, "And if they were 'public domain' what makes you believe that your access would be any swifter?"

. . . Esquire kept her face impassive as she spoke, "The terms offered to the University still stand. Supervised access for a full Professorship, and legal custody of his Harem."

. . . "I can arrange the legal custody part," he said, "And I believe that the issue of his at the moment illegal retention of them can be waived, due to his good behavior to date."

. . . Oh, sneaky, hold the girls over his head, the voice said, Where he can eat them! He's dangerous and nasty, and that's a demon saying that. Don't you get it?

. . . Very gotten, he thought.

. . . "I can't speak for the university," Jamie admitted angrily.

. . . "Your mission?" Jamie's Wolf Queen, Morgan pointed out, "If this is that important, they'd certainly accede to Mr. Bookman's request."

. . . The boy stared at the table, not willing to admit anything.

. . . "Let me guess, you suspected you weren't working for the entire University, just a faction, and you don't know the power of said faction?" Smith said as he pulled his organizer, and looked up a name, "Excuse me for a moment."

. . . He left the room and dialed the number of an old acquaintance.

. . . "Procurements department," came the answer from a bored teen.

. . . "Please put Professor Thomas on the line."

. . . "The Professor's out."

. . . "When is he expected to return."

. . . "Dunno."

. . . "Then please take a message to have him call me." He gave the bored teen the number, and planned to call back in a short while.

. . . "I have a friend at the University," Smith said, "So does every other, honest cop who ever set foot in Windy Shores. Or you either don't stay honest, or you don't stay breathing."

. . . And you don't get to fuck his sister who suddenly turned all fuzzy, came the voice.

. . . Ah, you're back, I hardly missed you, he replied.

. . . When Alvin gets a load of what you're peddling, you'll need the entire 4th Legion to keep him from trying to get it, the voice said.

. . . "I am curious," Librius said, "What exactly is the sudden interest in what has remained in legend for - millennia - I suppose."

. . . "The Chant of Iscandiferon," Jaime said replied gruffly, "Maybe we can make a deal for that."

. . . "Indeed, I'll cast the spell for you, in return for your sister."

. . . What did I tell you? the voice asked as Jaime turned purple.

. . . "Die you rotten - " he screamed as he jumped across the table, and landed in the StarMystic's lap as a furious, spitting, snarling kitten.

. . . "Master, that was cruel," the StarMystic said.

. . . "The chant requires the life of the one truly beloved. If she were mine, even temporarily, she wouldn't be his. Besides, the poor dear needs a human Taming, and our policeman friend seems very much her type."

. . . See what I mean? the voice asked.

. . . I'm beginning to, Smith replied.