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                The crew had managed to raise the ship into the air easily enough, but nearly tore it apart trying to put it back down. Without proper engine control, they had dropped the last few meters into the surf and sucked several gallons of sea water into their exhaust. It was a struggle to engage the submersible functions and transfer the power to the underwater engines before the undertow pulled them down to the depth, but they managed to pull it off, just barely. Alone in the command center, Granger paced the floor, angrily stomping about to vent his anger before facing what remained of his crew.

“Should trade this fuckin’ thing in,” he complained until he heard footsteps coming from down the hall.

                Zeesa appeared from outside and knocked on the door-frame to get his attention.

“We’re alive,” she declared happily, “But, we’re leaking…”

“I figured as much,” Granger nodded, then went to check the gauges on the command console, “But, we’ve leveled off, we’re not sinking, um…get the kid after it, he can freeze the holes up, you go through the passages and call ‘em out, I’ll show up with some patches…”

“What about Belix…and the new guy…”

“They can…” Granger bit down on his tongue before he could finish that sentence, “They’ll be fine without us for a while at least, we need to look after our own asses first.”

                Zeesa nodded and ran off to do her job while Granger went about his, Evie joined them soon after, using tar metal scraps to seal the breaches. It took hours of work but, eventually they got the ship about as airtight as they could and Granger was actually considering bunking down for the day as they made their plans, but, he knew the others wouldn’t stand for his hesitation. He took a collection and readied a raft for an outing. Before leaving he coached Sylvester and Zeesa in how to sink and raise the ship, then handed them a flare gun.

“Now, remember,” he advised, “We’ll be coming back two days from now, so, raise the ship and fire that off, if all goes well, we’ll get back before nightfall.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Sylvester wondered.

“…there’s a land site, a town off the coast of Knott called Lidinell, head…” he gestured them over and pointed down at a compass, “South-East from here, engage the engines,” he put his hand on a lever, “Half-full, and keep an eye on the temperature gauge.”

“You’re telling us to run?” Sylvester demanded.

“…yes…” Granger nodded.

“…it…” Sylvester sighed, “It should be me who’s going,” he mused woefully, “You’re the captain now, you need to…”

“Look after my crew,” Granger finished for him.

“You’re the best sailor on board,” Sylvester retorted, “I’m barely trained and Zeesa’s never even tried.”

“They’d notice you,” Evie corrected him, stepping out of the hallway and joining them, “It’s not just a matter of disguising, people like me are trained to pick someone like you out of a crowd, blindfolded, and Zeesa’s not much better.”

“Why the Hells not?” the mermaid demanded.

                Evie stepped forward and mockingly whispered.

“I can’t cover up your smell honey,” she snickered as she faded back to avoid a right cross.

“Besides which, you’re the best choices for if anything goes wrong,” Granger insisted, already walking towards the exit, “And we still need to batten down those seals.”

“Got it,” Sylvester grumbled morosely.

                Evie smiled at them and followed Granger out the door, joining him as he prepped the raft for launch and flew it back towards Seriquisse. They had covered half of the distance when he nervously glanced over his shoulder at his companion.

“You look like you want to say something,” she mentioned, her arms folded, head bowed in contemplation.

“I was actually hoping…well, more wondering,” he winced before saying it, “If you had a plan.”

“Me?” she smirked back, “You’re the captain, right?”

“They won’t be out in the open,” he lamented, “She’s too smart for that, we don’t know anything about their target, or even…”

“So, you don’t actually have a plan do you?”

“I didn’t even want to do this,” he admitted, then sighed, “But, other than kicking down every door from here to the edge of town…”

“Thorough,” Evie commented.

“Dammit, do you have any ideas?!” Granger finally snapped,

“Yes,” she nodded, but waited until they arrived at the docks before she elaborated.

                Back on the ship, Sylvester stood in the command center with Zeesa, doing his best to memorize the controls. It was a few minutes before he noticed her staring at him.

“Ahem…so,” he asked awkwardly, “What did you want to do first? I mean, there’s, um…the seals, or, or we could…”

“Dinner,” she interrupted him with a wry smile.

“I…well, it’s a little early, but…”

“We’re all alone tonight,” she insisted, making certain that he understood the implications, “So, have it ready by six, I’ll get started on the seals.”

                In the city, Clyde and Belix had spent the day resting, finding a raised culvert under a bridge that no one else seemed to be using and taking turns keeping watch. Clyde spent most of his time filing down an old iron grate he had located nearby and collecting the dust in a torn section of his cloak. Eventually, Belix was roused from her slumber and got curious.

“So, what are you doing over there?” she asked.

“We need some iron,” he mentioned, setting aside the piece of cement he was using to file the metal, “It’s the only thing that can hurt these bastards, but…” he clutched at the grate with both hands, “Most weapons now-a-days are made of steel, urk…urm…if I can melt this down I can coat…some of our weapons with…ARRRGH!”

                He tried his best to pull the grate free but screamed and toppled forward onto his elbows. Belix was there in an instant, pulling him back and helping him to sit up.

“Why don’t you let me take care of this,” she mentioned, leaning forward and far more easily wrenching the grate free from the wall.

    He thanked her quietly, then went back to filing down the metal and collecting the dust. After a minute she sighed, sitting next to him, but looking away.

“You’re, um, you’re not going to talk about what I did earlier, are you?”

“I don’t think you want me to,” he muttered, still concentrating on his work.

“Well, I am bringing it up,” she mentioned morosely, “You really don’t feel anything for me, do you?”

                With a sigh, he set aside his makeshift tools and a turned to look at her.

“I’m …not who you need me to be,” he stated.

“No, you are and that’s the problem,” Belix retorted, then scoffed, “You know, I always thought it was such a joke: ‘All the good ones are married to Gay’.”

“I…don’t…” Clyde struggled to articulate himself, “I don’t feel anything…”

“How’s that now?” she raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not…like it should be,” he mentioned, touching his chest, “There’s twinges and…and pain, there’s…something in there, but it’s far away, and every time I try to reach out for it, it just slips through my fingers…”

“So…you just…don’t love anybody?” Belix surmised, “Not me? Not your mother?”

“I…I-I…” he stammered before looking away, “I don’t know.”

“What about your girl? Maggie, or whatever her name was.”

“I…I care about her,” he responded dully, “I want her to be happy,” cringing a little, he lifted his face to Belix again, “If I did something with you…it would hurt her, and I don’t want to do that.”

                To his surprise, Belix threw her head back and let out a loud guffaw.

“What?” Clyde demanded incredulously.

“It’s just…stupidly pathetic,” she shook her head, still laughing.

“I’m not trying to joke,” he told her insistently, “I’m being serious.”

“I know,” she responded sadly, “That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then…”

“Don’t worry about it,” standing up, she paced around the culvert, searching for another piece of concrete she could use to file down the grate, “I promise to keep my tongue to myself from now on, alright?”

“You didn’t use your tongue,” Clyde mentioned awkwardly.

“Like I said…” she muttered non-committally and eventually kicked a loose piece from the edge before returning to help him.

                On the other side of the city, Granger and Evie walked in single file, cutting a path down the street, her illusion convincing the crowd that they were a pair of nuns, though, to sell the illusion, Granger was a massive, hunchbacked old crone, and the crowd easily parted to allow them to pass.

“Are you sure this is alright?” Granger wondered under his breath.

“It gets the job done,” Evie responded.

“I’ll say,” Granger mentioned, watching the civilians bowing to him in the street as he walked past, “I’ve never seen this much reverence for religious figures before.”

“It’s almost excessive isn’t it,” Evie admitted, then glanced back at him, “Do you really not know the story? What Seriquisse was like before the church showed up?”

“No,” Granger told her as he bowed in return to one of the civilians, “But I think I get the gist.”

                Before their conversation could continue, a woman burst from the crowd, holding a bundle of rags in her arms as she cut them.

“Holy sisters,” she begged, dropping to one knee and bowing her head in contrition, “Forgive me! Please! Forgive me! But my daughter is sick, won’t you…”

“Of course my child,” Evie responded peacefully and, taking the woman by the arm, she led her to a nearby fountain and collected some water on the tips of her fingers, she used the droplets to draw and ‘X’ between the eyes of the baby in swaddling clothes, then a straight line across her brow, the symbol glowed white for a moment, then vanished, and Evie smiled at the woman, “I have done what I can my dear, but take her to a clinic, soon.”

“Yes, your holiness, of course your holiness, thank you…God bless you,” the woman pattered away with tears streaming down her face.

“What the Hell was that?” Granger demanded as she rejoined him.

“A simple blessing, rejuvenating and revitalizing the spirit,” she told him under her breath, “It has certain medicinal properties, makes the body sweat out most of its toxins and cleanses the circulatory system.”

“It’ll heal the kid?”

“…no,” she admitted, “I don’t have that level of power, mine are…more like a damp cloth, and that child needs more of a hard scrub…so to speak.”

“And…they can do that at the clinic?”

“…maybe, if nothing else they could ease her passing and…”

“Kill that child you mean,” Granger interrupted her.

“Humanly,” she responded softly, leading him into a nearby building, “It’s how we do things here.”

                Granger bit his tongue and used the silence to examine his surroundings. It was some kind of health club, a place to train your body and mind. He could smell the sweat as soon as he went through the door, hear the rhythmic thumping of practice sparring mixed with a distant melodic tune.

“Welcome to the Sanctum Lanista,” the receptionist bowed to him peacefully, “How may I help you today?”

“We’re looking for Darius Kelly,” Evie explained.

“General Kelly?” the receptionist repeated back, “Is he expecting you?”

“Knowing him…he might be,” Evie admitted.

“Hmm…” the receptionist considered them, “Then shrugged, well, it’s your life in your hands,” she pointed down an adjoining hall, “Down there, blue door on the right.”

                They gratefully accepted the directions, then walked down the hall.

                Behind the door, they found a tall, bald headed black man. He was rushing all across the room, pushing his body to its limits as he rushed through a seemingly impossible number of practice moves, wielding a long, thin, wooden stick with a deadly precision. Both of them entered the room and watched him practice, waiting for an opening so that they could talk. When it became clear that the opportunity wasn’t about to present itself, Evie stepped forward only to get the legs swept out from under her. Granger rushed in, trying to defend her, but getting easily swatted away and pinned against he wall.

                The bald man glared at him, holding the stick across his throat, and then pulling it away, he used it to close the door.

“You raised in a barn?” the bald man grumbled then turned away to where Evie was laying on the ground, “Evangeline…” he called out, reaching her, and loudly slapping his weapon against the ground where she had been only seconds ago, “Where are you hiding?”

                As the image of her faded from the floor mat, Evie erupted from thin air and threw a roundhouse kick at his head that he easily deflected before wrapping his hand around her throat. Granger had time to take a step forward before the pair broke out laughing and gave each other a hug.

“You always were worth a laugh Ev’s,” he chuckled and shouldered his weapon, “What brings you?”

                Granger paused looking at the two of them curiously until the bald man finally turned around.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself,” the bald man stretched out his hand, “Darius Vanzant Kelly, you can call me Mr. Kelly.”

“He’s not joking about that,” Evie snickered, “He’s very particular about how people address him.”

                He continued to stare coldly at Granger for a while, then dropped his hand to his side before turning to smile at Evie once more.

“And you still lean to heavy on your right foot,” he jibed, he glanced over at Granger one last time, but the big man remained silent so Mr. Kelly just shrugged, “Back to important topics, what brings you?”

“One of our friends is lost in the city,” Evie stated only be cut off.

“You have friends now?” Mr. Kelly asked, and Granger honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking.

“She’s been caught up in her boyfriend’s silly little crusade.”

“And now you are too, and this right here is why you’re not supposed to have friends.”

“Can you help us or not?” Granger demanded.

“It speaks, I half expected them to have taken your vocal cords,” Mr. Kelly mentioned as he sauntered across the room to place his staff on a rack, “I definitely would have.”

“I asked…”

“And I heard you,” Mr. Kelly snapped, walking back to them with his hands in his pockets, “What I didn’t hear was an actual request, what do you want from me?”

                Granger bit back on a retort when he exchanged a look with Evie and saw a nervous expression on her face. Folding his arms and stepping back, he allowed her to take the lead.

“As far as we can tell it’s a cult of some sort, likely worming its way into the city and enticing the citizenry.”

“With what?” Mr. Kelly asked, then sighed when Evie struggled to answer, “Evangeline, dear, I can’t help you if I don’t know the details.”

“It’s…I’m not…” she sighed shaking her head, “It’s a bit complicated.”

“Immortality,” Granger shrugged, “It’s about as near as I could call it.”

“Well, I suppose,” Evie agreed, “He said that, when you drank its blood it changed you…and the woman he’d gone to meet was basically invincible.”

“Now, is it immortal, or is it invincible, because those are two very different things?” Mr. Kelly reminded them.

“What the Hell’s the difference?” Granger demanded.

“’Invincible’ is something you sell to idiots and the poor,” he iterated, “’Immortal’ is what you sell to the ruling class.”

“…well,” Evie muttered pensively, “He did say that his contact was the former Queen of Knott…”

“Urgh…” Mr. Kelly rubbed his eyes wearily, “Did I fail with you girl?”

“Um…I don’t think so…”

“Yes, exactly, You don’t fucking Think!”

“How about you calm the Hell down,” Granger snarled dangerously.

“Don’t tell me how to talk to my student Cyborg!” Mr. Kelly growled back.

“Stop!” Evie put herself between them, but faced her old mentor, “You’re saying that I missed something?”

“Obviously,” Mr. Kelly shook his head, “You looked in the wrong direction and wasted time, mine and yours.”

“You have a lead then?”

“I’ve heard rumors,” he mused, “Members of the upper echelon attending strange and unaccountable meetings, disappearing for long stretches with no explanations…”

“And you didn’t think to do anything about it?” Granger observed.

“Why would I?” Mr. Kelly shrugged, “I’m a grunt after all, their comings and goings are no business of mine, and I’ve no place commenting on it.”

“Well, that sounded well rehearsed.”

“Did you object when they grafted that arm onto you?” Mr. Kelly demanded, “Or did you take it with a smile, because it was your duty, as a soldier.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

                Mr. Kelly continued to glare at him, but let the matter drop.

“At any rate, now you’re telling me that this is a cult, a force that is poised to strike at the heart of our great nation.”

“That is…our summation, yes.”

                He considered it for a minute, pacing the room as he mulled it over.

“Then, what if I were to tell you that there is a particular representative taking her meeting this very night.”

“Now?” Evie wondered, “Where?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “Like I said, I’ve only heard rumors, and I haven’t been poking my nose into the situation.”

“So, are you going to tell us where to meet them?” Granger asked.

“No…” he responded, “I’m going to look into it myself now, but, I’ll keep you informed, where can I get in contact with you?”

“…Um…” Evie glanced back at Granger and shrugged, “My safe-house on fifth.”

“Predictable,” he muttered, shaking his head, “Then go, I should have something for you by the morning.”

“Thank you,” Evie bowed and made to leave the room, but Granger remained still.

“Something you want to get off of your chest Cyborg?” Mr. Kelly demanded.

                Granger mumbled something under his breath and scratched his chin.

“Normally,” he mentioned off handedly, “I’d make a threat right about now, you see, my best friend’s mixed up in all this, and I don’t want to see her get hurt, well, not too much anyway, and I’ve seen your type before.”

“Oh?” Mr. Kelly stepped forward, “Enlighten me.”

“Gung Ho,” Granger responded simply, “Dedicated, and fearless.”

“Why, that almost sounds complimentary.”

“Blind and stupid, and willing to hurt folks so long as it serves their cause,” Granger hissed at him, “You’d kill her if she got in your way.”

“Or, if I thought her existence could stand in any way to harm our great nation, yes,” Mr. Kelly nodded sincerely, then leaned forward to whisper, “And I’d kill you too for the same reason.”

“Hence my quandary,” Granger rolled his eyes, “You won’t respond to a threat, you won’t care, or remember that I told you to go fuck yourself, so, instead,” he leaned closer until they were staring each other in the eye, “I want to make a promise to you, soldier to soldier.”

                Granger threw a punch with his metal arm that Mr. Kelly blocked with his bare hand, but Granger refused to back down, putting his weight behind his arm and pushing the other man back.

“If you harm one hair on her head, then I’m going to skin you alive,” the big man growled at him before finally relenting.

                He left the room with Evie, safely hidden under her illusion, and still quietly fuming. Even to the end, Mr. Kelly had been smiling at him.

Description

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                The crew had managed to raise the ship into the air easily enough, but nearly tore it apart trying to put it back down. Without proper engine control, they had dropped the last few meters into the surf and sucked several gallons of sea water into their exhaust. It was a struggle to engage the submersible functions and transfer the power to the underwater engines before the undertow pulled them down to the depth, but they managed to pull it off, just barely. Alone in the command center, Granger paced the floor, angrily stomping about to vent his anger before facing what remained of his crew.

“Should trade this fuckin’ thing in,” he complained until he heard footsteps coming from down the hall.

                Zeesa appeared from outside and knocked on the door-frame to get his attention.

“We’re alive,” she declared happily, “But, we’re leaking…”

“I figured as much,” Granger nodded, then went to check the gauges on the command console, “But, we’ve leveled off, we’re not sinking, um…get the kid after it, he can freeze the holes up, you go through the passages and call ‘em out, I’ll show up with some patches…”

“What about Belix…and the new guy…”

“They can…” Granger bit down on his tongue before he could finish that sentence, “They’ll be fine without us for a while at least, we need to look after our own asses first.”

                Zeesa nodded and ran off to do her job while Granger went about his, Evie joined them soon after, using tar metal scraps to seal the breaches. It took hours of work but, eventually they got the ship about as airtight as they could and Granger was actually considering bunking down for the day as they made their plans, but, he knew the others wouldn’t stand for his hesitation. He took a collection and readied a raft for an outing. Before leaving he coached Sylvester and Zeesa in how to sink and raise the ship, then handed them a flare gun.

“Now, remember,” he advised, “We’ll be coming back two days from now, so, raise the ship and fire that off, if all goes well, we’ll get back before nightfall.”

“And if it doesn’t?” Sylvester wondered.

“…there’s a land site, a town off the coast of Knott called Lidinell, head…” he gestured them over and pointed down at a compass, “South-East from here, engage the engines,” he put his hand on a lever, “Half-full, and keep an eye on the temperature gauge.”

“You’re telling us to run?” Sylvester demanded.

“…yes…” Granger nodded.

“…it…” Sylvester sighed, “It should be me who’s going,” he mused woefully, “You’re the captain now, you need to…”

“Look after my crew,” Granger finished for him.

“You’re the best sailor on board,” Sylvester retorted, “I’m barely trained and Zeesa’s never even tried.”

“They’d notice you,” Evie corrected him, stepping out of the hallway and joining them, “It’s not just a matter of disguising, people like me are trained to pick someone like you out of a crowd, blindfolded, and Zeesa’s not much better.”

“Why the Hells not?” the mermaid demanded.

                Evie stepped forward and mockingly whispered.

“I can’t cover up your smell honey,” she snickered as she faded back to avoid a right cross.

“Besides which, you’re the best choices for if anything goes wrong,” Granger insisted, already walking towards the exit, “And we still need to batten down those seals.”

“Got it,” Sylvester grumbled morosely.

                Evie smiled at them and followed Granger out the door, joining him as he prepped the raft for launch and flew it back towards Seriquisse. They had covered half of the distance when he nervously glanced over his shoulder at his companion.

“You look like you want to say something,” she mentioned, her arms folded, head bowed in contemplation.

“I was actually hoping…well, more wondering,” he winced before saying it, “If you had a plan.”

“Me?” she smirked back, “You’re the captain, right?”

“They won’t be out in the open,” he lamented, “She’s too smart for that, we don’t know anything about their target, or even…”

“So, you don’t actually have a plan do you?”

“I didn’t even want to do this,” he admitted, then sighed, “But, other than kicking down every door from here to the edge of town…”

“Thorough,” Evie commented.

“Dammit, do you have any ideas?!” Granger finally snapped,

“Yes,” she nodded, but waited until they arrived at the docks before she elaborated.

                Back on the ship, Sylvester stood in the command center with Zeesa, doing his best to memorize the controls. It was a few minutes before he noticed her staring at him.

“Ahem…so,” he asked awkwardly, “What did you want to do first? I mean, there’s, um…the seals, or, or we could…”

“Dinner,” she interrupted him with a wry smile.

“I…well, it’s a little early, but…”

“We’re all alone tonight,” she insisted, making certain that he understood the implications, “So, have it ready by six, I’ll get started on the seals.”

                In the city, Clyde and Belix had spent the day resting, finding a raised culvert under a bridge that no one else seemed to be using and taking turns keeping watch. Clyde spent most of his time filing down an old iron grate he had located nearby and collecting the dust in a torn section of his cloak. Eventually, Belix was roused from her slumber and got curious.

“So, what are you doing over there?” she asked.

“We need some iron,” he mentioned, setting aside the piece of cement he was using to file the metal, “It’s the only thing that can hurt these bastards, but…” he clutched at the grate with both hands, “Most weapons now-a-days are made of steel, urk…urm…if I can melt this down I can coat…some of our weapons with…ARRRGH!”

                He tried his best to pull the grate free but screamed and toppled forward onto his elbows. Belix was there in an instant, pulling him back and helping him to sit up.

“Why don’t you let me take care of this,” she mentioned, leaning forward and far more easily wrenching the grate free from the wall.

    He thanked her quietly, then went back to filing down the metal and collecting the dust. After a minute she sighed, sitting next to him, but looking away.

“You’re, um, you’re not going to talk about what I did earlier, are you?”

“I don’t think you want me to,” he muttered, still concentrating on his work.

“Well, I am bringing it up,” she mentioned morosely, “You really don’t feel anything for me, do you?”

                With a sigh, he set aside his makeshift tools and a turned to look at her.

“I’m …not who you need me to be,” he stated.

“No, you are and that’s the problem,” Belix retorted, then scoffed, “You know, I always thought it was such a joke: ‘All the good ones are married to Gay’.”

“I…don’t…” Clyde struggled to articulate himself, “I don’t feel anything…”

“How’s that now?” she raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not…like it should be,” he mentioned, touching his chest, “There’s twinges and…and pain, there’s…something in there, but it’s far away, and every time I try to reach out for it, it just slips through my fingers…”

“So…you just…don’t love anybody?” Belix surmised, “Not me? Not your mother?”

“I…I-I…” he stammered before looking away, “I don’t know.”

“What about your girl? Maggie, or whatever her name was.”

“I…I care about her,” he responded dully, “I want her to be happy,” cringing a little, he lifted his face to Belix again, “If I did something with you…it would hurt her, and I don’t want to do that.”

                To his surprise, Belix threw her head back and let out a loud guffaw.

“What?” Clyde demanded incredulously.

“It’s just…stupidly pathetic,” she shook her head, still laughing.

“I’m not trying to joke,” he told her insistently, “I’m being serious.”

“I know,” she responded sadly, “That’s not what I was talking about.”

“Then…”

“Don’t worry about it,” standing up, she paced around the culvert, searching for another piece of concrete she could use to file down the grate, “I promise to keep my tongue to myself from now on, alright?”

“You didn’t use your tongue,” Clyde mentioned awkwardly.

“Like I said…” she muttered non-committally and eventually kicked a loose piece from the edge before returning to help him.

                On the other side of the city, Granger and Evie walked in single file, cutting a path down the street, her illusion convincing the crowd that they were a pair of nuns, though, to sell the illusion, Granger was a massive, hunchbacked old crone, and the crowd easily parted to allow them to pass.

“Are you sure this is alright?” Granger wondered under his breath.

“It gets the job done,” Evie responded.

“I’ll say,” Granger mentioned, watching the civilians bowing to him in the street as he walked past, “I’ve never seen this much reverence for religious figures before.”

“It’s almost excessive isn’t it,” Evie admitted, then glanced back at him, “Do you really not know the story? What Seriquisse was like before the church showed up?”

“No,” Granger told her as he bowed in return to one of the civilians, “But I think I get the gist.”

                Before their conversation could continue, a woman burst from the crowd, holding a bundle of rags in her arms as she cut them.

“Holy sisters,” she begged, dropping to one knee and bowing her head in contrition, “Forgive me! Please! Forgive me! But my daughter is sick, won’t you…”

“Of course my child,” Evie responded peacefully and, taking the woman by the arm, she led her to a nearby fountain and collected some water on the tips of her fingers, she used the droplets to draw and ‘X’ between the eyes of the baby in swaddling clothes, then a straight line across her brow, the symbol glowed white for a moment, then vanished, and Evie smiled at the woman, “I have done what I can my dear, but take her to a clinic, soon.”

“Yes, your holiness, of course your holiness, thank you…God bless you,” the woman pattered away with tears streaming down her face.

“What the Hell was that?” Granger demanded as she rejoined him.

“A simple blessing, rejuvenating and revitalizing the spirit,” she told him under her breath, “It has certain medicinal properties, makes the body sweat out most of its toxins and cleanses the circulatory system.”

“It’ll heal the kid?”

“…no,” she admitted, “I don’t have that level of power, mine are…more like a damp cloth, and that child needs more of a hard scrub…so to speak.”

“And…they can do that at the clinic?”

“…maybe, if nothing else they could ease her passing and…”

“Kill that child you mean,” Granger interrupted her.

“Humanly,” she responded softly, leading him into a nearby building, “It’s how we do things here.”

                Granger bit his tongue and used the silence to examine his surroundings. It was some kind of health club, a place to train your body and mind. He could smell the sweat as soon as he went through the door, hear the rhythmic thumping of practice sparring mixed with a distant melodic tune.

“Welcome to the Sanctum Lanista,” the receptionist bowed to him peacefully, “How may I help you today?”

“We’re looking for Darius Kelly,” Evie explained.

“General Kelly?” the receptionist repeated back, “Is he expecting you?”

“Knowing him…he might be,” Evie admitted.

“Hmm…” the receptionist considered them, “Then shrugged, well, it’s your life in your hands,” she pointed down an adjoining hall, “Down there, blue door on the right.”

                They gratefully accepted the directions, then walked down the hall.

                Behind the door, they found a tall, bald headed black man. He was rushing all across the room, pushing his body to its limits as he rushed through a seemingly impossible number of practice moves, wielding a long, thin, wooden stick with a deadly precision. Both of them entered the room and watched him practice, waiting for an opening so that they could talk. When it became clear that the opportunity wasn’t about to present itself, Evie stepped forward only to get the legs swept out from under her. Granger rushed in, trying to defend her, but getting easily swatted away and pinned against he wall.

                The bald man glared at him, holding the stick across his throat, and then pulling it away, he used it to close the door.

“You raised in a barn?” the bald man grumbled then turned away to where Evie was laying on the ground, “Evangeline…” he called out, reaching her, and loudly slapping his weapon against the ground where she had been only seconds ago, “Where are you hiding?”

                As the image of her faded from the floor mat, Evie erupted from thin air and threw a roundhouse kick at his head that he easily deflected before wrapping his hand around her throat. Granger had time to take a step forward before the pair broke out laughing and gave each other a hug.

“You always were worth a laugh Ev’s,” he chuckled and shouldered his weapon, “What brings you?”

                Granger paused looking at the two of them curiously until the bald man finally turned around.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself,” the bald man stretched out his hand, “Darius Vanzant Kelly, you can call me Mr. Kelly.”

“He’s not joking about that,” Evie snickered, “He’s very particular about how people address him.”

                He continued to stare coldly at Granger for a while, then dropped his hand to his side before turning to smile at Evie once more.

“And you still lean to heavy on your right foot,” he jibed, he glanced over at Granger one last time, but the big man remained silent so Mr. Kelly just shrugged, “Back to important topics, what brings you?”

“One of our friends is lost in the city,” Evie stated only be cut off.

“You have friends now?” Mr. Kelly asked, and Granger honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking.

“She’s been caught up in her boyfriend’s silly little crusade.”

“And now you are too, and this right here is why you’re not supposed to have friends.”

“Can you help us or not?” Granger demanded.

“It speaks, I half expected them to have taken your vocal cords,” Mr. Kelly mentioned as he sauntered across the room to place his staff on a rack, “I definitely would have.”

“I asked…”

“And I heard you,” Mr. Kelly snapped, walking back to them with his hands in his pockets, “What I didn’t hear was an actual request, what do you want from me?”

                Granger bit back on a retort when he exchanged a look with Evie and saw a nervous expression on her face. Folding his arms and stepping back, he allowed her to take the lead.

“As far as we can tell it’s a cult of some sort, likely worming its way into the city and enticing the citizenry.”

“With what?” Mr. Kelly asked, then sighed when Evie struggled to answer, “Evangeline, dear, I can’t help you if I don’t know the details.”

“It’s…I’m not…” she sighed shaking her head, “It’s a bit complicated.”

“Immortality,” Granger shrugged, “It’s about as near as I could call it.”

“Well, I suppose,” Evie agreed, “He said that, when you drank its blood it changed you…and the woman he’d gone to meet was basically invincible.”

“Now, is it immortal, or is it invincible, because those are two very different things?” Mr. Kelly reminded them.

“What the Hell’s the difference?” Granger demanded.

“’Invincible’ is something you sell to idiots and the poor,” he iterated, “’Immortal’ is what you sell to the ruling class.”

“…well,” Evie muttered pensively, “He did say that his contact was the former Queen of Knott…”

“Urgh…” Mr. Kelly rubbed his eyes wearily, “Did I fail with you girl?”

“Um…I don’t think so…”

“Yes, exactly, You don’t fucking Think!”

“How about you calm the Hell down,” Granger snarled dangerously.

“Don’t tell me how to talk to my student Cyborg!” Mr. Kelly growled back.

“Stop!” Evie put herself between them, but faced her old mentor, “You’re saying that I missed something?”

“Obviously,” Mr. Kelly shook his head, “You looked in the wrong direction and wasted time, mine and yours.”

“You have a lead then?”

“I’ve heard rumors,” he mused, “Members of the upper echelon attending strange and unaccountable meetings, disappearing for long stretches with no explanations…”

“And you didn’t think to do anything about it?” Granger observed.

“Why would I?” Mr. Kelly shrugged, “I’m a grunt after all, their comings and goings are no business of mine, and I’ve no place commenting on it.”

“Well, that sounded well rehearsed.”

“Did you object when they grafted that arm onto you?” Mr. Kelly demanded, “Or did you take it with a smile, because it was your duty, as a soldier.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

                Mr. Kelly continued to glare at him, but let the matter drop.

“At any rate, now you’re telling me that this is a cult, a force that is poised to strike at the heart of our great nation.”

“That is…our summation, yes.”

                He considered it for a minute, pacing the room as he mulled it over.

“Then, what if I were to tell you that there is a particular representative taking her meeting this very night.”

“Now?” Evie wondered, “Where?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “Like I said, I’ve only heard rumors, and I haven’t been poking my nose into the situation.”

“So, are you going to tell us where to meet them?” Granger asked.

“No…” he responded, “I’m going to look into it myself now, but, I’ll keep you informed, where can I get in contact with you?”

“…Um…” Evie glanced back at Granger and shrugged, “My safe-house on fifth.”

“Predictable,” he muttered, shaking his head, “Then go, I should have something for you by the morning.”

“Thank you,” Evie bowed and made to leave the room, but Granger remained still.

“Something you want to get off of your chest Cyborg?” Mr. Kelly demanded.

                Granger mumbled something under his breath and scratched his chin.

“Normally,” he mentioned off handedly, “I’d make a threat right about now, you see, my best friend’s mixed up in all this, and I don’t want to see her get hurt, well, not too much anyway, and I’ve seen your type before.”

“Oh?” Mr. Kelly stepped forward, “Enlighten me.”

“Gung Ho,” Granger responded simply, “Dedicated, and fearless.”

“Why, that almost sounds complimentary.”

“Blind and stupid, and willing to hurt folks so long as it serves their cause,” Granger hissed at him, “You’d kill her if she got in your way.”

“Or, if I thought her existence could stand in any way to harm our great nation, yes,” Mr. Kelly nodded sincerely, then leaned forward to whisper, “And I’d kill you too for the same reason.”

“Hence my quandary,” Granger rolled his eyes, “You won’t respond to a threat, you won’t care, or remember that I told you to go fuck yourself, so, instead,” he leaned closer until they were staring each other in the eye, “I want to make a promise to you, soldier to soldier.”

                Granger threw a punch with his metal arm that Mr. Kelly blocked with his bare hand, but Granger refused to back down, putting his weight behind his arm and pushing the other man back.

“If you harm one hair on her head, then I’m going to skin you alive,” the big man growled at him before finally relenting.

                He left the room with Evie, safely hidden under her illusion, and still quietly fuming. Even to the end, Mr. Kelly had been smiling at him.