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January 21st, 2011

Taylor's House

Brockton Bay

I rushed back home as quickly as I could. Rather than return to the orchard, I just landed in a very dark alleyway, quickly changed into my "civilian clothes", and jogged the rest of the way home.

Like I thought it might happen, Dad was waiting up for me. Despite the fact that it was only nine o'clock, and he said I had to be back by ten.

I started to put a hand on my hip but stopped myself when I realised I was continuing to perform the slightly exaggerated body language that I had used as Summoner. Instead, I smiled wryly and said, "Unusual for you to be waiting up for me."

That was kind of a lie. Dad was often awake at this time of the night. But, he wasn't often just sitting there obviously waiting for me, with nothing really on the television except the twenty-four-hour news channel. More often than not, we would have already parted for the evening and retreated to our individual areas of the house by this time of the night, too. Dad might watch a game in the living room, but more often, he would be in his own bedroom when it got close to ten, as he had to wake up very early.

I suppose I didn't often come in late, either, though.

As if he was reading my mind, he chuckled and said, "You don't often stay out late, either, Little Owl. You never even told me the name of your new friend."

His use of the diminutive that had really been Mom's pet name made me smile a little bit, but in a half-sad kind of way. "Her name is Victoria. It was just me and her sister. It went really well! We just got something to eat," I told him, deciding not to mention Amy's name either. Dad wasn't a cape geek by any means, but Glory Girl and Panacea's real names, and the fact that they were sisters was common knowledge, and he might comment about the coincidence.

I didn't want him to be curious and find a video of the two famous heroines meeting a new Cape for dinner at the same time I was meeting someone named Victoria and her sister Amy for dinner.

"I'm glad to see you branching out with other friends besides Emma," Dad mentioned. Just like that, my mood was ruined, but I managed to avoid showing it on my face.

I forced a smile and lied, "Thanks, Dad. I'm going to go take a bath and head to bed."

I gave him a hug and went upstairs. I wasn't lying about the bath, just the bed part. I've heard that in Japan, before most of it washed away, the custom was to shower first and bathe second. These days I think most people there would be happy for running water being available at all.

If what I saw on television was accurate, then even in other islands besides Kyushu, utilities were only available partially—electricity might stay on for six hours a day, and water was spotty and not potable without boiling.

Still, I would give it a shot tonight. I discovered that when you didn't sleep at all and never felt tired, you had a lot more time on your hands to try random things. I had even taken up reading for pleasure again. Back when Mom was alive, I read a lot more, but I had been in survival-only mode for at least a year and a half.

First, though, as I entered the bathroom, I pulled out the brown bag special that Armsmaster gave me. Stacks of cash! Surprisingly tall and heavy, about a half-kilo, they didn't fit in my pocket, so I had to carry the sack in mid-air until I reached the location near our home where I stashed my backpack.

There were five stacks of cash, each with a paper band over it. They were all twenties, which I appreciated, as breaking hundred-dollar bills was sometimes a big problem. So, I guessed each stack contained one hundred twentys.

Despite what I told Armsmaster, I sat down and counted them. And then counted them again, paying attention to the serial numbers on the bill like I was a villain who extorted a ransom after kidnapping someone. They didn't appear to be consecutive serial numbers but with computers these days, that didn't really matter.

I bet large banks could have a database of arbitrary serial numbers and maybe even computers that automatically detected them as soon as they were deposited.

Still, that would only be a concern when the bills I spent arrived at a bank. Even if you bought at big box stores, it wasn't guaranteed that the bills would go from you to the store and then directly to the bank.

Plus, thinking about it, I suspected they weren't tracked at all. Nobody on the bad side of the law would cooperate with Kill Orders if the PRT was discovered to track the payments it issued to independents, and that was the Big Hammer the PRT always wanted to keep sacrosanct.

I shoved my fat stacks back into my backpack, except that I used elastic hair bands instead of the paper straps I had torn off. I hardly ever wore my hair in a ponytail anyway, so I wondered why I even had so many of the things.

The post-shower bath was a little disappointing. I could see the appeal, but my bathroom had a combined bath and shower, making it less comfortable than it otherwise might be. The bathtub was small. Didn't Japanese people have even more space constraints than we did? I didn't know, but I couldn't even submerge my entire body continuously in my small tub.

It wasn't something I noticed when I just took a bath to clean myself, but I noticed it right away when I tried soaking as a relaxation. I'd have to try it again if I got rich enough to have a larger tub someday.

Back in my bedroom, I sat down and did all of my next week's homework in one go, and then sat and read at least three chapters ahead in each textbook. They had finally forced me to get replacement textbooks, but I still just flat refused to use my locker, which meant that I didn't bring textbooks to class.

I had been getting in trouble for it, so I decided to just do all of my homework in advance, including reading way ahead so I would follow the lessons even without having my textbook in front of me. As such, all my books remained at home, and I only went from class to class with a couple of pens and a small binder of paper for notes.

It made it much more difficult for Sophia to steal my homework, which I didn't think she was taking well. I used to think she just threw it away, but now I was starting to think that I had been doing her homework for her, at least in the one class that we shared.

Midnight came around as I was reading my World Issues textbook for the second time, and I hummed appreciatively as I drew, finally, a new Land. And it was a Plains to boot. Beauty looked up from her nest that she had made in my pillows curiously.

I had an idea of where I could place it, too. I wasn't sure it would work, but it would be worth it to find out. I had to cast Hold The Gates, now, too, since I had promised Albrich his vigilance, but if I went out to check it out right now, I might be able to save my daily draw and discard ability instead of having to use the terminal to get my white mana.

Setting my books and stack of homework aside, I got dressed into my costume, such as it was, and snuck out of the house. When I was sneaking in and out, if I was in costume, I forwent my wings as they were a bit too noticeable if a neighbour was snooping out of the window at the same time I snuck out.

However, a few blocks away, I summoned them and took the skies, along with Beauty. Our destination was deeper into the docks, and we sat down on the roof. From up here, especially in the middle of the night, Dad's workplace didn't look the same as I recalled.

The Dockworkers Association was strongly aligned with white mana. It was an edifice of social order and community, where the individuals that comprised it created something stronger than the sum of its individual parts.

I could use it, too. The feeling I got from the place was adequate. It wasn't as though I controlled it personally, but Dad was so important to the social order of the place that it would let me place the Plains here without even having to station a monster or creature here. That was a plus, as I had been thinking about asking Albrich to join the Union so that he could lurk around the area in order to both protect Dad and farm my control over it once Albrich got a sufficient level of English.

It might still be an option, as the feeling I got was that it was barely adequate. I wouldn't lose this Plains in seven days, but that might not last forever. My link to the place and what it stood for was real but tenuous. It was so tenuous that I thought if I had an older brother or sister, it wouldn't have worked.

But, for now, it was good enough. I placed the Plains and immediately drew upon it, along with the park and the Boat Graveyard, casting Hold The Gates over the next several minutes. This was the first Enchantment that had a global effect that I had cast, and it seemed especially complicated—not that I could even understand the magic necessary to light a candle's flame without my cards.

As I felt it finished successfully, I glanced around. I didn't feel any different, obviously, but I glanced over at Beauty, and she was doing some sort of shadowboxing routine, seemingly pumped up. Well, good enough for me.

Now, with six lands, I had access to eight mana, so I was hoping I would get some good spell draws with large mana costs and amazing effects. I suppose I could even sacrifice my stylish mask and create an eight-eight golem creature. That was a huge ace in the hole, although I would miss my mask if I needed to use it that way. In practice, I felt like I would always reserve at least three mana to cast Dark Dabbling to regenerate me or someone equally important, but I could still time things just before midnight to use all eight if I wanted to.

Lifting into the air, I flew directly to my orchard at the edge of the docks and the trainyard, dropping into the centre next to the farmhouse. Albrich was there, looking as though he was setting up to use a saw to start cutting the tree I accidentally felled with Cut In to pieces. That was nice; I had just been planning on... ignoring it.

"I feel quite peppy now, Lady," Albrich said amusedly, although he sat his tools down and approached me, "I can leave this for later. Shall we do your daily exercises and spar?"

I paused as if I was going to do something else but nodded. I wouldn't learn anything if I wasn't dedicated, "Yes. I've got enough money for those fencing wands, too. I'll order them today, and they might arrive as soon as Monday or Tuesday."

I sat my things and his sword to the side and spent the next two hours being drilled by Albrich, in both hand-to-hand. We did hand-to-hand training every day, and although he did teach me how to throw a punch and perform a simple kick, he had focused on grappling, wrestling and some unknown style that reminded me of mixed martial arts, where you get turned into a pretzel.

"You're already stronger than most men. People who don't understand will underestimate you, and that will give you an opportunity to quickly incapacitate and or kill an opponent if you can take them to the ground," he lectured me during a lull, "Plus, when you get even stronger, you'll find that wrestling is the most effective hand-to-hand method to deal with similarly supernaturally strong opponents."

I was a bit confused. Alexandria is famous for punching things like a runaway freight train, but maybe that's just because that is photogenic. It wasn't like we had videos of even one per cent of the time Alexandria fought. "Why?" I asked in English.

He dusted himself off, and we took a break to drink some water and eat a couple of salami sandwiches.

Albrich answered me before he started devouring his sandwich, "Because when you reach highly supernatural levels of strength, normal strikes like a punch or a kick tend to cause one side or another to go flying, and that isn't efficient. But—most of the time—a monster's body still has to obey the underlying natural law of the world, so you can pin them against the ground and break their joints or snap their necks."

I nodded slowly. That made a lot of sense. The idea that I might reach the stage where I could punch someone and have them blasted away like a cartoon was kind of surreal, but it definitely made sense to focus on wrestling now.

Albrich wasn't a gentle teacher, nor did he particularly approve of my Life, which rapidly healed any small injuries, like a black eye or bruises, when he used a stick to drill sword forms into me. He seemed to think that being sore for a while made lessons stick. However, there wasn't much I could do about it. I couldn't "turn it off."

Physical training for four hours a day would have seemed insane just a couple of weeks ago, but now I handled it surprisingly well. I couldn't mentally get tired anymore, but I could still get exhausted, and that was the moving target that Albrich set every day.

Albrich had cleaned the bathroom in the master bedroom sufficiently that I felt comfortable taking showers here now. There wasn't a way to wash clothes, as although the house had both a washer and dryer the washer did not work. Albrich claimed that he had been watching a lot of videos on YouTube and might be able to fix it.

Speaking of which, after I came out into the cleaned living area in a change of clothes and a towel on my head, Albrich said, "Thanks to this computer, I think I can get real papers from the government. Legitimate identification in your society that is."

I stared at him, aghast. No way. There was just no way that a man that had never seen a computer until recently was now a hacker or something.

He continued on, "German refugees are pretty common in New England since Behemoth attacked Berlin, and most of the records of the German Republic were lost in the attack. I have a Munich accent, apparently, and I think I can just call the German consulate, and they'll probably give me new documents—it wouldn't be surprising to them that they have no records of me. I've just been watching a lot of videos about southeast Germany to fit in better."

Oh. Ohh. That was a great idea. I wasn't sure it was going to work but it definitely was worth a try, "How's your English?" I asked him.

He held his hand out and waffled it back and forth and said in heavily accented English, "Better and better."

Alright, he might sound like Krieg's civilian identity, but that was fine. I couldn't very well discriminate against German speakers, especially since I was one now.

Although I detested the Empire 88, I was presently more concerned about Albrich's safety right now than dismantling the Nazis, and I couldn't claim it wasn't true that he'd likely be very safe in certain parts of the city.

I think if I had a different power, then I might have felt compelled to go out and make a difference every night, but I saw a future where I could dismantle the gangs with nothing but a wave of my hand if only I didn't get myself stupidly killed too soon.

As for Albrich, I'd already warned him about the Empire 88, and he had been full of scorn.

Apparently, in a world where every night vampires and werewolves preyed on humans, there wasn't room for irrational intrahuman hatred, which was actually kind of refreshing if it wasn't so depressing. With the Endbringers, would our world reach the same state, eventually?

"Good," I walked over to the front of the room, pulled the brown bag out of my backpack and announced, "Mama got paid today."

Albrich looked confused and inaudibly mouthed, 'Mama?' which I pointedly ignored, a flush forming on my face. God forbid I tried to sound cool, alright?

I coughed and pulled one of the stacks of twenties out, and handed it to him, scrunchie and all.

He took it, glanced at it, and asked, slightly accusingly, "This is a lot of money. Did you rob someone?"

"Of course not! I sold the Vigilance that was surplus to our requirements for ten thousand dollars," I announced proudly.

He nodded and said, "In that case, it is not that much money. A permanent dweomer like that can't be sold for merely gold where I am from."

I understood what he meant, but I simply gave a Gallic shrug, partially practising the iconic gesture for use when I was in costume but also accurately describing my opinion on the matter, "Ten thousand dollars today is worth a lot to me, and I would have literally discarded that card. Plus, once they release Armsmaster from confinement in case I Mastered him, most people will be much more likely to buy a similarly useful to them but useless to me enchantment, if I happen to pull any."

He nodded thoughtfully and held the stack of dosh out, "This is for me?"

I nodded, "Not only do I not want to provide your every need personally, but I would be a bit uncomfortable with that relationship if I were in your shoes. It must be quite boring to be cooped up here, at a minimum."

"I make liberal use of that terminal, and the novelty of having the sum total of human knowledge at my fingertips hasn't worn off yet," he said mildly.

I grinned. I knew it. He had been sandbagging before and he really was impressed with our technology. Well, I didn't know who built that terminal, but it did connect to our internet without any trouble.

"That said, I think I will enjoy going out to see the city. It will prove interesting, and I'll take over buying the victuals, Lady," he mentioned.

Well, I couldn't really afford much in the way of quality victuals until now, so he had been surviving on leftover dinners and baloney and salami sandwiches, so I could see why he might want to branch out a bit. Besides, a modern supermarket was itself a marvel that had to be seen to be believed.

"That's settled. Just be careful, and don't carry your sword on the street—especially now that I've been recording using it personally," I warned him.

He nodded and shrugged, "I have a stiletto that can be quite discreet, and I am not too impressed with the quality of your criminals."

"Just be careful... guns can still kill both of us," I warned him, and he nodded.

Glancing out the window, I gathered my things and redressed into my costume. I was flying to Boston today, which was a big step for me. As such, since I was going for a costume consultation, I wanted to make sure my costume was in tip-top shape, so I was going to go home and wash it.

I was tempted not to even wear it on the flight over, but what else would I wear? Anything that would be suitably anonymous would be more embarrassing than a tussled and untidy costume.

I probably wouldn't return to the orchard until this evening, so I gathered my "Treasure" and scooped out about a dozen of the heavy coins and dropped them into my backpack. Those, I would take. I certainly wouldn't offer to pay with cash if they already said they'd accept gold.

It was already close to five; I'd have to get home pretty quickly. Although Dad slept in a little bit on the weekends, he still woke up by six thirty at the latest.

"Okay, Dad. I'll be back by seven or eight at the latest," I assured him truthfully. Although I was forced to lie to him about where I was going, I didn't want him to worry.

Rather than return to the orchard to change, I used an abandoned building not too far away to change. I flew straight up from the alley of that building until I reached about two hundred metres, which was a lot higher than I normally ever flew, and shifted south-southwest until I spotted Interstate 93 and started following it south.

I-93 went straight into Boston, and I already knew what part of the city Diplomatic Attire was located in. My max speed in the air was faster than the cars below now, although the speed limit on I-93 was only a hundred and twenty. I could do one fifty if I pushed it, but I probably couldn't actually go faster than a car that had the pedal to the metal yet.

The nice part about flying was that it wasn't that strenuous. Although I exercised muscles to move my wings, when I was in straight and level flight, it wasn't muscles that pushed me to highway speeds. It was all magic, and even going flat out the entire way to Boston didn't seem to tire me out any.

About halfway to Boston, I felt a mental pull and saw, in my mind, my Treasure token had disappeared. It felt as though a rubber band had snapped in my head. Concerned, I descended down and landed in the middle of a field and checked the contents of my fanny pack. The ten gold coins were still there, which reassured me. What happened, though?

I lifted back off and continued south and thought about it. I had felt a stretching feeling from the Treasure since leaving Brockton Bay, but it hadn't felt that unusual. I felt the link between me and my "summons" stretch from time to time, but in this case, the link between me and the ten coins had eventually snapped.

Wait. Ten coins? There were a lot more than that, after all. I bet it stopped being considered a Treasure token when I separated it out, especially if my intent was to give part of it away. It still existed as physical gold now, but I could no longer use its ability to sacrifice itself to provide me with mana.

Perhaps if I brought all ten coins back to the rest, I could reconstitute it and regain that ability, or maybe not. I probably wouldn't find out soon because I definitely planned to spend these gold coins, but it might be a good test if I find a card that gave me another Treasure token or some other item that isn't that useful but comes in a collective or set of items.

I wondered if this discovery meant that my connection to my stolen zombie vat or the gifted oviraptor would eventually snap, too. Possibly, I thought. They both felt... taut. As far as the raptor, I thought it would just mean I wouldn't be able to Master it at all anymore. I was a bit more unsure about the other item, as unlike some artefact abilities, it didn't require any mana to activate. For all I knew, a normal person could use Ashnod's Transmogrant.

I could have told Armsmaster that the police had hauled off the device, but I was still trying to pretend as though my secret base was still secret. I could feel the secrecy of it slipping from my fingers like sand, but I was stubborn—at least until I got some way to make my Wall of Shadows block anyone from flying into it. I decided to put it out of my mind for now.

Once I got into Boston proper, I reduced to a more reasonable altitude and speed and even stopped on a roof to consult the directions I had printed out on our old, slow home computer from MapQuest. The city was huge and a lot more confusing than simply following one highway, but eventually, I managed to locate myself through a couple of intersections of busy streets I could see from my rooftop perch.

From there, it was just a few short hops to the right neighbourhood Diplomatic Attire was in. It was in a small shopping centre or mini-mall, but a rather classy one, with an attorney's office, a realtor and a bank as its immediate neighbours.

I pulled out my phone from my fanny pack and fished it out of the Faraday bag before turning it on to check the time, realising I was very early. I supposed it didn't matter, though. I was sure they likely had a waiting area where I could remain until two.

Instantly, though, I was bombarded with a number of missed calls, voicemails and text messages. They were mostly from Victoria, although one was from an unknown number claiming to be Amy, having gotten my phone number from her sister.

Saving the heale as a contact, I called Victoria back.

"Summoner! I can't believe I missed it! You bearded the beard! Why haven't you called me back or replied to any texts?" Victoria gushed and then accused.

Bearded the beard? Oh, confronted Armsmaster. I chuckled and said, "I'm a little paranoid, so I keep my phone in a Faraday bag so that the PRT can't track me to where I live."

That caused her to pause as if considering my words, "I'm not sure if that's paranoid or not. I've never had a secret identity like so many Capes."

I was starting to wonder if it was worth it. I wouldn't ever bring the phone back to my house unless it was turned off and in its little bag, but maybe I could just leave it out in the open in the orchard in the future. It would certainly make talking to my friends easier, or at least replying to their texts.

We talked briefly about the meeting she couldn't see, and I was still a bit embarrassed, "Yeah, the cage he had prepared was so big that the little raptor could almost walk through the space between the bars."

That caused her to titter again, and I spent a good fifteen or twenty minutes just talking to her, not about anything in particular—just talking back and forth like she was my friend. She even put the phone on speaker, and Amy got on briefly, us all talking together before the prickly healer-girl went to the hospital.

Glancing at the time, I replaced the phone in its bag, returned it to my pack and peered at the shopping centre from my perch on a taller building a few blocks away. I had talked longer than I intended to; it was only five till two now.

I stretched out my wings and casually stepped off the ledge, letting myself glide down at an angle. Pumping my wings a few times to slow the rate of descent brought me into a gentle constant-angle descent. At the very last moment, I rotated my body and flared my wings to arrest my descent so that I just glided one moment and stepped onto the asphalt in Diplomatic Attire's parking lot the next.

Quite showy, I thought, but it looked nice. The first time I had tried that manoeuvre when descending into the orchard, I had flubbed the last step, tripped and rolled ass-over-teakettle, so I practised it over and over until it was second nature now.

Three buildings down, next to the attorney's office, was a Chinese restaurant with the unusual name The Ordered Garden. In front of it, a young boy was trailing his parents, walking into it. He had spotted me gliding in and was tugging urgently on his mom's pant leg and pointing at me, but both his parents ignored him and ushered him into a late lunch.

Kind of amused, I stepped up into the establishment I had come to visit. As the door closed, I glanced around. I didn't know a lot about Accord, and all the research on PHO that I conducted just came to the conclusion that he was rich yet somewhat pernickety. I didn't quite know what that meant, but his tailor shop was very subdued yet tasteful.

Everything was spotlessly clean, the colours were dark but warm, and the counter where a man and woman waited was varnished but didn't feature the high-gloss plastic smoothness that I would call lacquered, even if those two words meant mostly the same thing. Instead, it was warm, classic, and tactile, with a bit of grain glow still showing. It looked understated but expensive.

Basically, I felt really out of place and had to force myself to continue stepping inside. I felt out of place. Not only was I only fifteen, but that one loveseat in the waiting area looked more expensive than every piece of furniture in our house combined.

I could feel the worker's attention on me, but they politely didn't regard me until I stepped up to the counter. When I did, the man smiled in a practised customer service way and said, "Welcome to Diplomatic Attire. How may I assist you?"

I took a breath to make sure I didn't stammer nervously and said, "Thank you. I'm Summoner and I have an appointment for a..." I frowned behind my mask as I recalled how it was worded, "...costume consultation."

He smiled and nodded, "Ah, yes. Our two o'clock appointment. We appreciate you arriving right on time. If you'd follow Jeanne into the back, we can have a discussion about the style and image you wish to project and take some measurements."

I found it unlikely that this was some sort of elaborate trap, but years of Stranger Danger presentations in elementary had left their imprint and made me a little leery of following anyone "into the back" of anything.

Realising I was being a bit silly, I nodded and followed the perfectly coiffed blonde behind the counter, down a hall and into what appeared to be a conference room, with a large wooden table that also probably cost more than all the furniture in my house.

It was dark walnut, I thought, but I had only seen tables like that in photos. I don't think I'd ever seen a piece of walnut furniture in person, not even once.

"Please, take a seat, ma'am," the lady offered.

I unclipped my borrowed sword from my belt and paused, as I wasn't sure what was the polite thing to do with your unwieldy weapon in high society. At the young woman's smiling nod in the direction of the table, I leaned the sword against it and took the closest seat to it.

Surprisingly, the seat wasn't uncomfortable with my wings. I had been taking to using stools when "in costume", but this was, while obviously not designed for a winged human, pretty comfortable.

"So, Summoner, what kind of costume are you interested in? I have to say, that is a gorgeous mask," the woman began.

This woman must have the cleanest skin I had ever seen. She was wearing a professional charcoal pantsuit and looked like she had just gotten out of the stylist's chair. The subdued colours of her clothes really made the two small pieces of jewellery she was wearing pop: a pair of studs in her ears with a yellow-orange gem that complemented her hair and a pair of almost invisible gold cufflinks of all things.

I don't think I'd ever seen a lady in film or media wear French cuffs. Was it ever an article of feminine attire? I didn't know, but rather than look odd, it looked quite nice. Subdued, but like she was making a statement. I just didn't precisely understand what the statement was saying, but I was sure that people more knowledgeable about fashion than me would know.

Almost missing her question in my mental interlude, I struggled to make a decision. I could try to act cool, but that seemed to be the fool's play. The person I was trying to be wouldn't be insecure about a lack of expertise. Nobody had time for everything, and that was precisely the reason I had agreed to come here.

I spread my palms and said, "Thank you. I have no idea. I am totally out of my depth. I'd like to incorporate and keep my mask, as I am fond of it, but also possibly create alternatives should I lose it. I like dark colours, and I actually kind of like the style I have now, but I just recently realised that I almost copied a local hero's style and would like to be suitably distinctive."

She flipped open a leather-bound portfolio and started taking notes, nodding. "Well, we certainly cannot replicate it, but we may be able to come up with something similar. Is it real jade? Can you see through it with your powers?"

"As far as I can tell, it is jade, yes. And no," I paused to consider and finally realised that she needed to know, "As my name suggests, I Summon things. Sometimes, these things have powers of their own. This mask is one of them, and anyone who wears it can see through it as though it is transparent when they are wearing it."

"Remarkable," the blonde said simply and then shook her head, "We can possibly create a similar style of mask, probably out of stained and sculpted wood, but I highly recommend you try not to lose or get yours damaged. It's obviously irreplaceable," she warned.

I nodded, as I understood that very much myself.

We then had a surprisingly long discussion about potential styles and, what to keep, and what to discard about my existing costume, which she inspected up close.

Finally, she stood up and said, "I'd like to take some measurements now."

Nervous, I asked, "What do you need me to do?"

As if noticing my unease, she smiled genuinely and said, "If you'd just take the cloak off, that would be sufficient."

That made me feel better, and I nodded, standing up. I carefully took off my cloak and rested it against the chair, forgetting that Beauty was hiding inside the cowl. She poked her head out, annoyed, which caught Jeanne's attention.

"Oh, my. I had seen the videos, but she is remarkable, too. Perhaps we should include a matching costume for her?" the woman asked, peering at the pixie, "Did you make the clothes yourself? How do you wash them, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't. Dirt, or anything like it, doesn't seem to stick to her, or her clothes for that matter," I reported honestly. I had been worried about that too and thought about buying doll clothes for her, "We can try, but she doesn't particularly like wearing other things."

Jeanne let out an appreciative sigh, "Dirt doesn't stick to her or her clothes? Now that is a power to be envious of..." I totally agreed with her there. I might switch out Arcane Flight for such an enchantment, even if it meant I was a little weaker.

She then took out a small flexible tape measure and took a frankly surprising number of measurements of my body, some of which were a bit personal, but I ignored it as if she were a doctor. When she was done, I put my cloak back on, and she asked, "We didn't discuss it exactly, but what level of sex appeal are you looking for?"

Uh, what? Sex appeal? For me, Taylor Hebert? Ridiculous. I could mention the fact that I was a minor to shut down this conversation, but it was evident that the costumes of Wards and superheroines my age did feature elements that one might describe in that way.

Obviously, it was nothing inappropriate, but it was always similar to the costumes of cheerleaders. Not necessarily styled like a cheerleader, although there were several poor Wards in the country who did wear cheer-style costumes. It was more that a cheerleader's uniform was as provocative as they would get until the hero officially joined the Protectorate.

Nothing that went past what was otherwise acceptable for teenagers of that age. I was sure there was some official manual on how to do it because it always tended to happen to long time Wards.

You could look at the styling of them, the Wards who had joined young and aged through the program. At about my age, they usually had a slight re-imaging that was more adult but still conservative enough for a minor. For example, in a year or two, they would probably change Vista's costume to possibly show off some skin of her legs and arms or nix the wavey skirt for something tighter.

Miss Militia's first costume was very childish and cute, but her reimagining when she was sixteen or so was actually similar to a cheerleader's outfit, except with American flag motifs. Then, when she joined the Protectorate, it had shifted to much more adult, but in a different way with a military-uniform style, and she had stayed with this same theme for her entire career thus far.

It was like the superheroine equivalent of your mom finally giving you permission to wear makeup out in public other than lip gloss, I supposed.

However, the reason I dressed as I did wasn't specifically for my own modesty; it was because I knew nobody would be interested in seeing anything of me. I coughed and said, "Zero."

The blonde woman pursed her lips slightly as though she disapproved of my answer, which kind of annoyed me. We couldn't all be supermodels like her.

Still, she didn't say anything but nodded, "I think we have everything we need for now. We'll now enter the design phase and create a number of proposals for you to look at."

We both sat back down, and I nodded. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't really surprising that they wouldn't create an entire costume design in one afternoon. Jeanne asked, "Now, about our fee. You mentioned that you wanted to pay in precious metals?"

I nodded and opened my fanny pack of heroic storage but froze for a moment. I had put the ten coins in a ziplock bag which now seemed like something someone with absolutely no style or poise would do. I couldn't just slap a bag of coins on the table in a plastic bag like it was an ounce of cocaine.

I casually opened the ziplock bag inside my fanny pack and fished out the coins themselves. I placed them gently on the walnut table, and indicated that the blonde could examine them.

"Very interesting. I don't recognise the minter or language," she said, in a very lightly accusing way. "Did you... summon these, too? I presume they are real gold and won't just... vanish?"

I nodded, caught out. "I did. And none of the items or creatures I make vanish at all. And yes, as far as I can tell, they are genuine gold."

Jeanne nodded, "Well, we can have them assayed—at your expense—but the idea of gold from somewhere else might make them more valuable as specimens rather than their melt value."

I sought to correct her quickly, "Ah... despite my name, my power copies things. So, these gold coins, specifically, were never in some other place. I'm not sure where my power gets the mass to do it, but that is how it works."

She gave a gentle and somehow feminine shrug and said, "I appreciate you telling me that, but I'm not sure it changes anything. Just the fact that it isn't Spanish dubloons or coins from any Earth polity makes it, in a lot of ways, much easier to handle."

That was the truth. Ever since getting the coins, I did a lot of research about the legalities of "finding" things like gold coins. You would think that it was finders keepers, but it was really not.

My original idea was to claim maybe I found them in the bay, but that would mean they would be "salvage", and the Law of Salvage meant you didn't get to keep them. You were entitled to an award of salvage, but that could be as little as fifteen per cent of the value when the risk you took to retrieve it was small, like "stumbling across gold" would be.

And that was just the first problem. The fact that they had a strange language printed on them would make them plausibly suspected of being from a different dimension, which meant that they were illegal to own, hold, or keep, and I wouldn't have gotten anything. That was why I was so excited that this store was willing to take payment in them.

She felt the weight of all the coins together in her palm and said, "Despite the reputation we have for somewhat high prices, it is not going to stretch anywhere near to a hundred grams of gold."

Wow, she had a calibrated hand. It was more like a hundred and six grams, but that was close. I blushed a little bit behind my mask and said, "I was wondering if you would be willing to buy them. I'll be straight with you... the avenues a teenager has to dispose of any amount of gold are minimal, and I'm much more interested in US currency. Trying to break a ten-gram gold coin at the grocery store is ... difficult."

That got a smile on the other woman's face, and she asked, "Ah. Is ten coins all you have, then?"

I shook my head, "I have about fifty... but... I figured a smaller amount might be best first." Basically, I didn't trust them and wanted to try a smaller amount first.

She didn't seem offended and nodded slowly, identifying the exact issue, "Trust must be built over time, certainly. Yes, that would be fine. You'll have to pay for the assay services out of the value of these coins, but it is a small expense." She paused and looked at me for a moment before asking, in a somewhat serious but concerned tone, "You're not capable of just continuously summoning gold, are you?"

"No. The things I can Summon are largely random. Why?" I asked.

She nodded, "That's good. Because, if you could and if you did, then the authorities would want to kill you. There are a number of powers that seemingly create things out of nothing. Most of these items disappear, but many do not. There is a reason that that gentleman from your city, the Kaiser fellow, isn't in the steel business even though, from all reports, he could create many tons of it a day. The authorities care about economic damage as surely as they care about death and destruction. In fact, they are one and the same." She spread her hands but smiled, "Thankfully, when it is as limited as your power is, then they don't particularly care since the systemic economic consequences are nominal."

Well, first of all, Kaiser wasn't a gentleman, but I thought that she might have qualified anyone that way to be polite. Second, I appreciated the heads up, as I could maybe see ways with certain card combos that I might be able to do exactly that. There were, after all, infinite combos in Yu-Gi-Oh, although rare and usually banned. Yata-Garasu had been banned almost as soon as it was printed for the way you could effectively repeatedly skip another Duelist's turn forever if they happened to have an empty hand and field.

It would be embarrassing to be killed because I summoned tons of gold coins instead of a zombie virus. One would think that infinite amounts of a useful metal, even steel from Kaiser, would be a boon... but it definitely would put the people who mined and smelted steel out of business, I suppose, and that was bad.

"Thank you for that warning," I told her honestly, "It is theoretically possible that I could create more, but I think it will be few and far between."

I was pretty impressed with this woman's knowledge of parahumans and the government's reaction to parahumans, actually.

With that, the consultation was done, and all I had to do was wait for the designs to be e-mailed to me for my opinions and approval.

As I left the building, I took to the air again and flew right back to the five story office building a couple blocks away that I had perched in while talking to Victoria and just took a moment to relax. That had gone... well. Surprisingly, well. I was so very nervous, but I didn't make a fool of myself like I was worried about.

I was really hungry, like I had used all of my food reserves for the meeting but I thought it was a better idea to fly straight back home. I didn't know anything about Boston—certainly not enough to go eat something in costume without stepping on someone's toes.

Thanks to my timely acquisition of a new Plains, I had preserved the Network Terminal's ability to draw that night, and after doing some more homework and dreading having to go back to school on Monday, the card I pulled from the terminal made me frown.

It was Blood Divination.

Blood Divination - 3{B}SorceryAs an additional cost to cast this spell, sacrifice a creature.

Draw three cards.

Predicting the future is a messy business.

I had made a rule that I would always select the cards that involved drawing more cards. However, the necessity to sacrifice a creature here made me hesitate.

First of all, I had very few cards in my hand to discard for it. Only four. I was absolutely keeping both Snap and Dark Dabbling as they could save my life. That left Professor Onyx and Elite Inquisitor.

Albrich had told me that he might know the person Elite Inquisitor was based on, and if he didn't, he knew their type and quietly suggested that I not summon them unless I had a serious Vampire or Werewolf problem.

Although I had total control over the creatures I summoned, he suggested that I would have to micromanage this fellow to prevent him from finding and murdering "monsters in human form." He was not a very flexible fellow, apparently, and the flavour text of his card certainly hinted at that.

If I were smart, I would discard Professor Onyx right now, as she seemed risky and dangerous, but I knew I wouldn't. I sighed and tossed Elite Inquisitor into my graveyard, gaining the suspiciously creepy Blood Divination.

I supposed I would have to use the Wisp for this card. I had vastly overestimated the thing's intelligence and utility, anthropomorphising it greatly. Even Beauty had gotten bored of the thing, as it seemed to just follow a set pattern of actions like a computer program.

It also wasn't useful. If this was a card game, I could see maybe a card like the Wisp being useful to stop an attacking creature, it would perhaps bewitch the attacker with its Wisp-lights and prevent it from damaging you or its target, but it didn't have any ability to do that from what I could tell. Someone could just blow right past it or kill it with a slap.

All it could do was die and then come back, so I decided to use it to draw three cards. I certainly wouldn't sacrifice Beauty, Albrich or Miss Naughty. Not even the shark.

However, my daily draw for Sunday caused me to pause. Maybe this would be better?

Bog Rats - 1/1 - {B}CreatureCan not be blocked by walls.

Their stench was vile and strong enough but not nearly as powerful as their hunger.

Kind of a terrible creature card. I certainly didn't want a swarm of rats in my orchard, even if they seemed bog-standard rats. See? I could make puns.

They weren't plague rats or zombie rats, which encouraged me. I could summon them and immediately feed them to the Blood Divination for three more cards.

Sighing, I leaned back in my La-Z-Boy. Could I get away with skipping school on Monday? The weekend, rather than giving me a break from Winslow, just made me not want to return even more.

If only... wait...

I frowned and then glanced outside. I might have a use for this swarm of disgusting but normal rats, after all. Sorry, Wispie, I guess it is you, after all.

Thankfully, although the Dark Divination's portrait implied some sketchy blood ritual, I didn't actually need to perform it. Before I could change my mind, I gathered the mana and cast it, feeling the Wisp disappear into my graveyard.

My first of three cards was a new Swamp, and I thought I had finally entered my popular phase with lands. The second was another global enchantment and an interesting one at that.

Into The Pit - 2{B}EnchantmentYou may look at the top card of your library at any time.

You may cast spells from the top of your library by sacrificing a non-land permanent in addition to paying their other costs.

Duskmourn never yields its secrets without exacting a brutal price.

I didn't know where this Duskmourn was, but it basically allowed me to play with an extra card in my hand, except that to cast the extra card I would have to sacrifice something. I thought this was an okay trade off, because I could see myself accumulating many somewhat useless cards in play.

Plus, it gave me the ability to much more easily get rid of Enchantments on other people. I could see an instance where I might lose Vigilance like I had lost my Treasure token, while the effect persisted. Maybe if I kept not thinking of it as belonging to me it would eventually disappear from my board, but if not this card would be a way to easily remove Vigilance from Armsmaster.

I wouldn't do that, even if Armsmaster tried to arrest me. I thought I had to have strong morals about selling powers that way otherwise nobody would trust me to buy them in the first place, but I could see a possibility where a hypothetical Enchantment had an unexpected but highly negative effect on somebody. Maybe a power interaction that I couldn't foresee, so the capability to get rid of it at a low cost was good all on its own.

The last of my three card boon was only an Uncommon, but the way it was worded might mean it was one of the most powerful cards I had gotten so far.

Scour - 2{W}{W}InstantSelect target enchantment or permenant power effect. All instances of this effect are Exiled. If the effect was cast and the caster is still alive, the caster forgets how to perform the effect.

I whistled with appreciation. Now this was the kind of card I wanted! Well, no, Resurrection was the card I wanted, but this was insanely good. It brought the question as to what parahuman powers, if any, were "permanent effects", though.

Some types of Master powers might be, but I could see how the Canadian Master Heartbreaker might just function as the equivalent of an Instant. For example, he might instantly change your brain so that you loved him—it might not be a permanent, ongoing and self-reinforcing effect. Instant and permanent devotion would be sufficient and might, in fact, be how his power worked.

While I thought about what kind of power effects would be considered permanent, I did a number of web searches about the health department and high schools.