I put on my Hat of Transformations and picked up my Wand of Power. I shrugged on my Mantle of Shadows and gave it an experimental twirl.

The portal swung open, and I stepped forwards as the path ahead came alight, pools of radiance flickering on step by step to mark my way. I drew a deep breath.

Let's make some magic.

"LADIES and gentlemen, presenting… the Magnificent James Kerry!"

Showtime.

---

After the lights and glitz faded, after I released the poise and control, after the cheers ended and the curtain fell, what was left was a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment – and just a touch of melancholy. I washed off the sweat and makeup, folded my whisper-satin cape and tucked it into my hat, next to my wand, and went out for a drink.

I ended up at a quiet little bar, it's sign dim under the streetlights; anyone else might have squinted at the name, Second Shot, but I knew this place like the back of my hand. I was a regular here - although no-one remembered me.

Still, I was surprised when someone called out as soon as I entered.

"Excuse me! James Kerry?"

He walked towards me, waving to be sure he had my attention. He was tall and slender, with dark skin and flashing green eyes, muddy blonde hair, and casual clothes. He had a camera case slung over his shoulder, the improbably large type that only professionals or rich hobbyists had. A reporter?

"Are you James? The magician?" His voice was soft and clear, with an odd accent that rounded off the edges of his vowels.

"Sorry, if you want an interview, go through my agent." I shoved my hands in my pockets and tried to look pompous as I moved to step past him.

"Oh." He paused. "Um, no." A hand went to the camera case. "I mean real power. You have it, right? True Magic."

"Um." I paused, suddenly uncertain. "Who sent you? What are you?"

"Only, I need your help, and--"

I drew a deep breath, concentrating. My magic senses activated easily, and I smelled a sharp, spicy scent; crushed juniper, or maybe cedar. Oak shavings. Leaf mold. Ah.

"You're a dryad."

"--pretty sure it's a curse, and..." He trailed off, blinking, as he processed my interjection. "I'm actually drus. A male dryad." He shrugged. "Can you help me?"

"Probably not." I rubbed my forehead; more work after work was the last thing I wanted. "But I'll hear you out. Where are you sitting?"

"Over here." We settled into a booth, the hanging light throwing his features into sharp relief. Now I knew what to look for, I saw hints of fey in his face; the curve of his lips, the space between his eyes.

"Your name?"

"Seville Orange." He poured me a glass of water "Call me Sev. And you're James Kerry."

"Yeah." I pulled off my hat and fished around inside, pulling out my wand. "So, who sent you to me?" I didn't exactly hide my presence in Springfield. In fact, I advertised it. But that was for James Kerry, illusionist, and not James Kerry True Magician.

"My tree." The drus lifted the camera case onto the tabletop, and unclipped the cover. I watched curiously as he gingerly pulled out a bell jar, wired shut, and set it on the tabletop. There was a tiny tree under the glass.

"A bonsai?" I asked, surprised.

"...kind of." He opened a clasp, and the wire mesh fell away. He lifted off the cover, and pushed the tree to the center of the table.

"Wow." I leaned in close. The tree had pinnate leaves, the size of my fingernail, and pale bark. "This is very clever. If you can move the tree, you're free to go where you please. Although I suppose this would have its own dangers." I smelled hints of magic, his oak and cedar, touched with vanilla and rose. "I know this smell." I leaned back, trying to remember where I'd encountered this magic.

"It's an offshoot of the One Tree," he admitted nervously.

"No wonder it knew who I was." I rubbed my jaw, then nodded. "Alright. So, why me?"

"I think it's cursed." He rubbed his hands together, then placed them flat on the table. "There' s a spell on it, and our connection is fraying." I glimpsed real worry in his face as he said that, and I whistled noiselessly. A dryad's bond breaking was always traumatic and usually fatal. "It told me to find you two days ago, when my link was stronger. I've been haunting this place ever since." He smiled weakly, then bowed his head. "...I really, really need your help."

"...haaah." I resisted the urge to rub my eyes. "Look, Sev, I'm not a charity, I don't use True Magic lightly." The cost is too high. "But," I held up a hand as his face fell. "I'm not heartless, either. Maybe I can point you to someone who's good at curses. Can you show me what's happening?"

"Alright." He drew a deep breath, obviously disappointed. "Like I said, our link is fraying. I can barely sense my tree, and if I try and strengthen it, well..." He ran a finger through the leaves, and I smelled a wisp of magic rise off his hand. There was a spark, like static electricity, and a pattern appeared in the branches, actually glowing off the surface of the leaves.

It was a many-armed clockwise spiral, empty at the center and shimmering in pale gold.

It hit me like a thrown brick. My heart clenched and fell into my stomach, and I broke out in a cold sweat. "Bloody hell." I physically recoiled, jerking back in my seat. "Stop! Stop it now!"

Startled by my reaction, Sev yanked his hand back. The glow faded slowly. When it finally went dark, I managed to tear my eyes away.

Then my magic stirred, rushing through my chest like a cold wind. My sight sharpened, my fatigue melted away, and my thoughts came into crystal-clear focus.

"...Sorry." I forced myself to loosen up, unclenching my fists and straightening in my seat.

We sat in silence for a long moment; I was unwilling to start the conversation, and Sev seemed afraid to disturb me. All the while, a single thought spun through my head: here we go again.

Finally, I reached a conclusion. "I need a drink." I shoved myself up from the table and marched over to the bar, leaning against it and staring into space.



"What can I get you, sir?" The bartender asked, startling me. I turned towards her and froze, suddenly remembering why I only came here when I was feeling melancholy. Her toned arms were crossed, and her brown eyes were neutral. Her brown hair, highlighted with a single streak of blue, was tied back neatly. She gave me a professional smile, and I died a little inside.

"Ah, rum and coke," I said, hesitating only a moment too long. "Sorry, you surprised me."

She nodded, accepting my excuse, and reached for a glass.

I watched as she worked, motions fluid and sure. My eyes drifted to the blue dye in her hair; it was her favorite color, but she never wore it on her clothes.

"Enjoy." She slid the glass across to me.

"Thanks." I dropped a bill on bartop, and hesitated. "Hey, this might be a bit odd, but... if you ever had to re-live part of your life, would you do anything differently?"

"Is this some cheesy pickup line?" She scowled, but her eyes twinkled.

"No, no." I waved the idea off. "Just feeling philosophical."

"Hmm." She scrunched up her nose, and that adorable dimple appeared on her lip. "Probably not. If I did, I wouldn't be me, right?"

"Yeah." I gave a broken laugh. "Yeah, I guess. Thanks Mel, keep the change."

I turned and walked away. She looked at me in confusion, down at the money, back at me, shrugged thoughtfully, and went back to work.



"Sorry to leave you like that." I dropped into my seat and took a long pull on my drink.

"So..." Sev hesitated, clearly uncertain.

"I'm going to help you." I picked up my hat and put it on. "Or rather, I have to help you. You're in more trouble than you might have guessed, and it's going to spill over into this city if I don't do something about it."

"How bad is it?" He asked, sinking back into his seat.

"Very." I felt the magic swirl in my chest, and took another gulp of my drink. The burn of the rum couldn't cut the chill in my lungs, but it did take the edge off. "You may have heard of Incursions before."

"Fuck."

"Yeah."

"They're like... great old ones, right? Cthulhu?"

"That's... not the worst description ever." I frowned. "But they're not all corrupting and chaotic like Lovecraftian gods. For each one that would cause us to go mad and rip our eyes out for fun, there's another who would sort every atom in by weight and charge, or mandate eye-ripping for the greater good. It's just as bad for us in the end, but... Anyways. Not all fishmen and madness." I sipped my drink.

"So there's an Incursion. On my tree?" He leaned forwards, suddenly urgent.

"...Probably not?" I frowned. "The One Tree is special. Your tree is probably being affected by what's happening to another branch. They're all..." I waved a hand vaguely. "Linked."

"Right." He sighed and slowly sat back. "So, what's it doing?"

"Well… first, it's called the Deosil Winding." I sketched a many-armed spiral with a hollow center in the condensation on the table. "It is sun aspected and aligned with order, as long as 'order' is defined as 'it being atop a very strict hierarchy with absolutely no room for discussion'. Its incursions tend to look like zealous rebellions or uprisings, at least at first. Later, they become... stranger."

He was looking at me strangely now. "How do you know all of this?"

"Because of my magic." I sighed. "Fighting Incursions is what True Magic is for. It's why it's so powerful. Those like me, we're supposed to keep one foot in Order and one in Chaos, and walk the winding path between them. We stand against the encroaching tide. We don't actually have a choice in the matter, either. Anyone who's got True Magic, we hold the line. We have to." And we pay for it.

"Then--"

"Sorry." I stood. "I need to get moving. I really don't have time for this. " The chill in my chest eased slightly as I moved towards the door. "I need to find the source of the Incursion." I paused, and stopped at the register on my way out.

"I need a roll of quarters."

---

"What are we doing out here?" Sev looked up and down the street, his eyes tracing late-night drivers as they swished past. We were a few blocks away from the bar, walking briskly through the chill evening, dodging the occasional pedestrian.

"Well, I'm looking for a parking meter." I doffed my hat and reached inside, extracting my mantle. It unfolded with a snap of my wrist, and I swirled it around my shoulders. I felt marginally better wearing it, a proper magician with wand, cape, and hat. "You?"

"...I'm helping?" Sev gave me a wry look.

"You don't need to." I shook my head.

"I kinda think I do." He shrugged. "My tree isn't well, and I won't rest easy until it is. Besides, the way you were talking... I'm not sure I should let you go alone."

I chewed over that for a long moment. I didn't really want him along, but mostly because I was being selfish. He had a stake in this, and I wasn't sure I could deny him, in good conscience.

"...Fine." I frowned. "Then help me find a parking meter."

"Two streets that way." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, back in the direction we'd come. "There are some by the bank."

"Gah." I spun, and started back.

Sev just snickered.



"So, why a parking meter?" Sev watched curiously as I broke my roll of quarters open.

"I'm going to call up a zeitgeist." I started feeding the quarters into the slot. "A type of spirit formed when a psychic nexus exists long enough to self-organize."

"Pyschic nexus?" He looked slightly alarmed. "Is that safe?"

"Depends." I chuckled. "I happen to be pretty good friends with this one, so I'm not worried. But, uh, maybe don't try this yourself."

"No fear." He shook his head.

"Alright, here goes." The time on the meter topped out. I drew in a deep breath and chanted.

"Highways, byways, overpass and toll roads..."

As I spoke, the numbers on the parking meter began to flicker.

"Taxis, cop cars, semi-trucks at full load..."

I kept my voice slow and clear. The meters around us started to flicker too, the numbers dancing randomly up and down, flashing in strange patterns and twisting into half-understood symbols.

"On-ramps, minivans, radar guns and speed signs..."

A low grumbling started in the distance, the thunder of far-off engines.

"Barriers, turn lanes, rumble strips and lane lines!"

There was a deafening squeal of rubber on pavement, a flash like searchlights playing over us, and suddenly, standing in the road as if he'd always been there, was a horse.

Well, sort of. He honestly looked more like modern art.

His bones were steel and his mane was chrome. His muscles were hydraulic, and his eyes were headlamps. He pranced towards us, a watchmaker's nightmare of ratchets and flywheels, and I could hear a deep lub-dub in his chest, the sound a Harley makes at low throttle. His rubber hooves were nearly noiseless on the pavement.

"Four-Lane. It's good to see you." I stepped forwards and patted his nose. He chuffed in annoyance, his breath laden with diesel fumes.

"Cut that out, kid. I don't particularly enjoy being patted." He tossed his mane, which flowed like liquid silver.

"I know." I grinned. "I'd offer you sugar cubes, if I had any."

"Do you know what that would do to my engine?" He sounded moderately horrified.

"...Fine."

"Your silliness aside.. who have you brought?" He turned, looking at Sev.

"Four-Lane, this is Seville Orange, a drus with a... housing problem. Call him Sev. Sev, this is Four-Lane, the zeitgeist of the roads and highways in Springfield. If it happened on asphalt, he saw it."

"It's good to see you, James." He leaned in, blowing fumes into my face as he rubbed his head against me. "You should call more often. Sometime that isn't an emergency." He stopped, and pulled in a deep sniff of my shirt. I felt my magic resonate with his, the chill in my chest throbbing slightly. "Your engine's redlining, kid. You really doing this again?"

"I have to." I shrugged with pretend nonchalance. "Anyways, I'll do better this time."

"...So." He sighed. "What are you up against?"

I frowned. "It's the Deosil Winding."

"Winding, winding..." Four-Lane's ears twitched rhythmically as he thought. "Haven't heard of it."

"It's mark is a multi-armed spiral, with an empty center." I pulled out my wand and traced it in the air, leaving glowing lines. "The Incursion should be near a branch of the One Tree. I know it's not a lot to go on, but--"

"Wait, I think I've seen this." He stepped forwards, turning his head to better see the drawing. "There's these things showing up on the streets... down on the south end, near Sunset Hills and Westside. They're disgusting, cobbled together out of garbage and scrap metal and all sorts of trash."

I gave the skinless horse mechanism a meaningful look.

"Not like me, they're chaotic. Anyways, they have that symbol on them. Most of them."

"That's a start." I frowned. "The Winding does work faster on chaotic creatures."

"Do they have a wooden core?" Sev asked.

"Er…" Four-Lane managed to look sheepish. "I couldn't say. I usually smear them across several blocks, then scoot. They hunt in packs."

"Do you recognize them?" I asked Sev.

"Yeah," he said grimly. "It's the elves. Those fucking tree-fondlers make those scrapcats to guard their groves."

"There're elves in this city?" I asked, surprised.

"The elves have a branch of the One Tree?" Four-Lane asked, surprised.

"You knew there were elves in the city, and never told me?" I turned to Four-Lane.

"…it never came up," he said. "But yeah, there are elves in Washington Park."

"We need to get there." I closed my eyes, trying to plan a route.

"I can take you," Four-Lane said. "You'll want some help against those things anyways."

"You sure?" I eyed his metal skeleton dubiously. "I'm not much for horseback riding."

"Hah!" He laughed, shrill as a car alarm. "How about this?" He trotted a few steps, placing himself solidly inside a parking spot. Then, with a wink of his headlamp eye, he changed.

It started slow; a click and whisper of hidden mechanisms that gradually shifted into the whirring and clanking of heavy machinery. His body twisted and folded inwards, before rippling strangely and ratchetting back outwards. There was a moment of confusion as his magic came into play, moving gears through shafts and re-winding cables that should be hanging free. I smelled his magic, a mélange of hot brakes and coolant, engine oil and fumes. In moments, a sleek, menacing convertible sat on the asphalt, a green so dark it looked black under the streetlights.

I glanced at the grill. He was a Mustang. Of course.

"Nice."

"Hop in, kids."

I leaped over the door, landing in the driver's seat. I grabbed the wheel, but it spun freely; the pedals swung loose. The headlights flicked on, but I hadn't touched anything. Sev walked around and climbed in the passenger side.

Something flexed, and the roof rolled back.

"Hold on, now."

And we were gone.

---

It normally takes nearly an hour to drive to the edge of Springfield from downtown. That's using the freeways, of course, and going the speed-limit.

I'm quite certain we did neither.

Some of the roads we took definitely didn't exist, not the reality I knew. But they were real enough for Four-Lane. I glimpsed half-built buildings and places falling apart, buildings with alien architecture and primitive constructions, road signs in languages or alphabets I'd never seen before. It reminded me of when I'd been entrusted with magic; glimpsing the truth of the world as a thread of possibilities, fading from complete nonsense on one side to total lack of imagination on the other, a winding path threading straight through the middle of causality on the one route that actually existed.

Then, with a squeal of tires and a sickening swerve, we were back in sensible geography, rocketing down back-lanes and curving through subdivisions.

I flinched as a scent hit me, sour and rotting, like dumpsters and back alleys. "We've got company!"

"I know." Four-Lane's voice sounded from the radio. "Several of them. If we want to get to the park, we're going to have to push through."

"Damn." I unbuckled my seat-belt and drew my wand, craning my neck to look around. Behind us, flashing through the streetlights, were lithe dark shapes. "I see them!" I raised my wand and launched a bolt of crackling force. My target swerved, but so did my spell. It hit with a whump, scattering flaming debris across the pavement.

Beside me, Sev was waving his hands and mumbling. Moments later, a vine leaped from the sidewalk, lashing out. It snared a shape, growing so fast I could hear it. I caught a whiff of oak and cedar, and the scrapcat yowled as it came apart.

"Hold on, I'm gonna dodge!" I barely had time to grab the steering wheel before Four-Lane swerved, wheels screaming as he fishtailed around a pouncing shape.

I glimpsed something that could, perhaps, be described as catlike; skin made from grocery bags and soda cans, barely covering bones of torn wire and rebar. Eyes like shattered phone-screens glowed above a gaping snarl filled with rusty nails. There was a golden swirl, many-armed but empty, stamped on the brow. I flicked my wrist, launching another bolt, and the thing exploded in a shower of steaming garbage and broken glass.

"They're gaining on us," I said in disbelief.

"Yeah, well, I don't have claws for these corners," Four-Lane retorted. We were nearing the park now, careening down a set of tight switchbacks.

"Above!" Sev raised his arms and a screen of branches sprang out overhead, barely intercepting a scrapcat that had decided to simply leap down the embankments. My wand flashed again, and I heard another yowl in the dark.

"The gate's ahead! James, get us a portal ward or something!" Four-Lane yelled.

"Right!" I raised my wand, blocked out the screech of tires and the snarl of the scrapcats, and concentrated.

I thought of safety, security, and doors. I called up images of padlocks and deadbolts and chains. I imagined the crash of a portcullis, the click of a lock, the slam of a gate. I grabbed all my thoughts, and pushed them through my wand. It grew warm under my fingers, then hot; I smelled smoke rising from it, felt the plastic soften. When I opened my eyes, the tip was glowing. "Give me a count!"

"Three!" Four-Lane swerved around another corner. "Two!" Sev did something that left our pursuers screaming. "One!" We shot through the entrance, a metal arch with a sign above, and I let the spell fly.

The spell didn't look impressive. There was a shower of sparks and a loud snap as my wand shattered, the cheap prop peppering my face and arm with hot plastic. A deep whumm sounded from the arch, and a ghostly gate slammed shut, hanging in mid-air for a moment before fading away.

Then the scrapcats hit it, splattering themselves across thin air.

"That'll hold them." I dropped the smoking remains of my wand, waving my fingers in a frantic attempt to cool my burns. "Damn. I'm going to have to imbue a new wand. I liked that wand." It had been my first, a toy I got at a carnival, back when I was just starting to learn illusionism. Back when pinching the power of the universe in my fingers had been a childish dream.

For a moment, everything was still.

The stars sparkled high overhead. Pools of moonlight dripped through the trees, dappling the road in silvery light. Four-Lane slowed, pulling sedately into a parking lot.

"End of the asphalt. This is as far as I go."

We sat in silence for a moment, before I pushed my door open and stepped out.

"Thanks for the ride." I patted his hood.

"No problem."

Sev got out the other side.

"Now we just need to deal with—"

I froze as an arrow whizzed past my face and embedded itself in the windscreen, leaving a spiderweb of cracks.

"Freeze, put your hands up!"

"The elves," Sev snarled.

"I'm outta here. Be careful, you two."

"Get Abigail!" I yelled, as the transmission clicked into reverse. Short figures with pointed ears, some with spears and some with drawn bows, stepped out of the pitch-black forest. Four-Lane vanished in a squeal of tires and burst of light, leaving only burning tracks on the pavement.

"I think we're going to need some backup."

---

The elves had, unsurprisingly, imprisoned us in a tree. They did nearly everything with trees. I'd have loved to analyze their spells; probably space compression, tied to the life-force of the giant oak we'd been un-ceremonially dumped in. We'd been casually pushed through the wood. It sprung apart to let us in, then slammed closed behind.

It was a lot bigger on the inside than the outside - although that only meant eight feet across, instead of two. Narrow slots, too high to reach, allowed a few anemic moonbeams in. It wasn't much, but it gave the darkness some texture. As my eyes adjusted, I could almost make out Sev's face.

"Fucking elves." He was spitting mad, twisting his wrists back and forth as he tried to free his hands.

They had held us at spear-point and tied our wrists. I'd finally gotten a good look at a real-life elf; they were short and greenish, with pointed ears and huge eyes, with needle-sharp teeth and scrubby, mossy hair. I'd hoped we could negotiate with them… But that fell through when I saw the Deosil Winding glowing in their eyes.

"They look more like goblins," I muttered, still trying to get over my disappointment.

"Goblins are much nicer," Sev snarled. "Can't you just, snap your fingers and magic us out of here?"

"Yeah," I said flatly. "I could. Actually, I could just snap my fingers—" the chill in my chest swirled at the thought "— and fix this whole thing."

At that, he stopped struggling and turned to me, face blank. "You can?"

"Yeah. But I'm not going to." I drew a deep breath. "We don't need to worry about the ropes, because Abigail is coming." I crouched and stepped over my bound hands, so I could fumbled the clasp on my cloak free. I let it flutter to the floor. "And I won't just fix everything, because it would probably kill me."

"…Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'. Everyone thinks True Magic is just getting whatever you want. Do you have any idea what it costs?"

"I… no. I guess I don't." He frowned. "Is that why you said you probably couldn't help me?"

"Part of it." I grimaced. "I can't afford to help everyone who needs it any more than I can afford to help everyone who's hungry. That doesn't mean I won't try, but True Magic isn't something to be used lightly." I sighed. "Mind if I vent a little?"

"Go for it." Sev waved his hands limply. "You've got a captive audience."

"Heh." I dropped to the floor, scooting backwards to lean against the trunk. "I didn't ask to be a wielder of True Magic. It was offered to me, and I accepted, but I had no idea it would turn out to be such a Pandora's Box."

He sat down as well, fixing me with an intent stare, listening closely.

"I wanted to be a stage magician. For my twelfth birthday party, my parents hired a performer. I was a shy kid, and didn't have a lot of friends. I don't even really remember what her performance was like - although that's not so surprising. What really struck me was how she stood up in front of everyone, so confidently, and how she moved, with such sure precision. After, I knew I wanted that, the poise and composure, and somehow, in my mind, it had become inextricably linked to performing and magic."

"So I practiced." I smiled a little, thinking back. "Hours and hours in front of my mirror, my few friends, my parents, my brother. Until I could pull a rabbit out of a hat, or pluck quarters from thin air. And somewhere in there, I found it; what my father calls 'stage presence', but I've always just thought of as a bit of pretend self-confidence. Fake it till you make it, I guess.

"Soon enough, I'd made it. I did tricks for my classmates, then for strangers. Pretty soon, I was doing street-magic, wandering around downtown and dazzling people with cards and coins. And that's when I met her again."

I rubbed my chin, trying to pull up everything I could still recall about the encounter. "It was… after noon, I think. I was sitting on a park bench, when this old lady came up to me. And I mean old; it wasn't more than seven or eight years since she had performed at my party, but now she was wrinkled and stooped. At first, I didn't recognize her, but she sat down next to me and started to talk. Pretty soon I caught on to who she was, and told her everything that had happened since she inspired me. And that's when she dropped the question. Did I want to have True Magic?

"She didn't trick me, though." I frowned. "She laid it all out. True Magic, see, costs memory."

"You… forget things?" Sev quirked an eyebrow.

"No." I shook my head. "The total opposite. People forget you."

"Huh?"

"Yeah. For every spell you cast, your… call it presence, maybe, in the world gets a little smaller. Someone, somewhere, loses a bit of their connections to you. It might be vague, at first, going from a close friend to just a co-worker, or from an acquaintance to a person you've just met. The thing is, I was the last person who could remember this lady." I rubbed my eyes, awkwardly. "Now I don't even know her name. I can barely recall her face. I think she had blue eyes? Maybe?" I sighed.

"But she laid it all out. The balance. The costs. At first, I didn't believe her. As the talk went on, though… well, I still didn't believe her, but I considered it seriously enough that she must have figured my decision counted. What can I say? I was younger and stupider, though no less principled. I took the offer. She cast her last spell, and I saw the world as it really is, if only for an instant. The dark rising up on one side, full of teeth and claws, and the light rising up on the other, full of fire and law. And we wind our way down the middle, picking a path ever so carefully that threads the needle of possibility to tread the knife-edge of balance."

I looked up, staring into his eyes. "So yeah, I can totally snap my fingers and magic this all better." I grit my teeth, and I could feel the power in me, swirling, pushing, urging me to do just that. "And I won't. Because if I did, I might well vanish from the world completely, and you'd be left sitting there, wondering how you'd gotten here, with maybe just the faintest impression that you'd been talking to someone. And more than that!" I was starting to get worked up now. "There's no way to tell what the cost of something will be until I do it! Maybe snapping this rope—" I shook my wrists "—Would make my bank forget I haven't paid my credit card yet. Or maybe," I snarled, "maybe my parents would forget they have a son."

I slumped, my rage spent. It was hard to stay angry at the unfairness of the world. Familiarity breeds contempt, after all. "Sorry. I'm done."

"It's fine." Sev shook his head slowly. "That stuff's crazy, though."

"Yeah. But let's talk about you." I pulled myself together, and fixed him with a stare. "Why do you hate the elves?"

"Ah." He looked down at his wrists, and grimaced. "Well, elves like dryads." He looked around, inspecting our prison. "We're good for trees, see. And they're oh-so appreciative. Very polite, even obsequious. But they will not, on any account, let one leave."

"They imprisoned you?" I frowned.

"Basically." There was a hint of heat in his voice . "Oh, they bowed and scraped, but I might as well have been a prisoner. It wasn't these elves, mind you; I'd never met them before tonight, and I'd have been very happy to go on not meeting them for the rest of my life. But like these elves, they had a very special tree they wanted to keep safe and healthy. And so they found a baby drus, old enough to live on his own but not so old he could understand what they were going to do, and they… forcibly relocated me." He sighed.

"It wasn't, perhaps, a particularly bad life." He shrugged. "Still, I'd always wanted to see the rest of the world, and they politely but firmly denied me that. As a child, they played on my ego and fears; as an adult, they… well, basically still just played on my ego and fears. I eventually grew to hate them, to loathe the pedestal they put me on, because no matter how 'special' or 'important' I was to them, I was caught in a gilded cage."

"How did you escape?"

"Fire." His grin turned vicious. "I burned the fuckers out of house and home."

"And your tree?"

"It burned too." This time there was a touch of sorrow in his eyes. "By that time I'd found my seedling," he said, motioning to the camera case at his side. "I'd been working secretly for the past few months to transfer my bond, and I managed to avoid being deeply wounded. But it really was a nice tree. Comfortable and big. Not very smart, mind you, but kind."

"..And you were alright with that? Burning it?"

"Ah." He smirked. "They miscalculated there. See, it was a lodgepole pine."

"What?"

"They have a special relationship with fire." He shrugged. "Once they're older than about thirty, their seeds can't sprout without a fire. So it didn't mind too much. Besides, trees don't really feel pain, and they're a lot more stoic about the whole…" He waved a hand. "Circle of nature thing. Different perspectives. The fire was actually its idea. Trees can be surprisingly vindictive. It's not obvious, because it happens so slowly, but they're basically constantly at war over light and water. The fighting between plants is no less vicious than that between animals."

"…Huh."

"Anyways, as long as we're still distracting ourselves, tell me more about this thing, the Deosil Winding. What exactly is it, besides a glowing symbol?"

"It's… a thought-pattern or something, I guess?" I considered it a moment. "Honestly, I'm not sure the Incursions are properly 'things', or even alive as we understand it. Anyways. It's from the side of order, which means it's controlling and exacting. It's called into the world by betrayal; when someone loses faith in something they trusted implicitly, if their despair and regret is strong enough, it can slip into the world.

"Physically, it looks like a knot of golden thread; it attaches itself to them and pretends to be the thing they lost, feeding on their belief. Then it infects others with the mark and expands. It works most efficiently on chaotic or vicious minds, which is why I hoped the elves hadn't succumbed yet. They're somewhat ordered, and mostly peaceful. Last time I dealt with an Incursion, we— Oh." I stopped. My Mantle of Shadows, still laying where I'd dropped it on the floor, was twitching.

"Abigail's coming, Sev." He turned to look, following my eyes. "Don't freak out when she gets here." The cloth started rippling, the black whisper-satin flowing and pooling like it was caught in a light breeze. As we stared, it rose into the air, eventually hanging at neck-height, fluttering and flapping. There was a moment of strangeness, a sharp scent of must and frankincense, and then Abigail was there.

"Mmm." She pulled the cape around herself, outlining her figure in shadowy black. She was short and plump, with flowing black hair and vivid red eyes. She looked like a teenager; not exactly stereotypical for a centuries-old vampire, but it was part of her charm. She smiled, and her fangs glinted in the half-light. "James, it's so good to see you again."

"I'm happy to see you too, Abby." I stumbled to my feet and held out my wrists. "Be a dear and help us out of here, would you?"

"You got captured again?" She frowned cutely. "You need to stop doing this."

"I can't help it." I tried to laugh, but it came out strained. She tsk'd, and touched the rope; it rapidly decayed, turning to dust and falling away.

"I know you can't." Her voice was low and serious. "Just… be more careful this time, would you?"

"Of course," I promised glibly.

"Bah." She turned to Sev, who mimicked me in holding out his hands. "Do you have a plan?"

"I was hoping you could run interference." I grimaced. "And we'd make a dash for the One Tree."

"…I guess that's a plan," she admitted. "Simple, but not totally stupid. Can you even find the Tree?"

"I can." Sev nodded. "I know how elves build their settlements. I can find it."

"Ah, Seville, right?" Abigail held out a hand, which he cautiously shook. "Four-Lane mentioned you. Abigail Watson, vampire and sometime guardian of reality. Nice to meet you."

"Seville Orange. Drus and all-round elf hater." He smirked. "Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure's mine. I think we'll get along quite well." She grinned back. "Personally, I think elves are delicious. James, you ready to go?"

"…Yeah." I patted my pockets. Abby had my Mantle, my wand was broken; I touched my hat. "Feeling a bit naked here, but I'll work with what I've got." The chill in my chest intensified for a moment, and I shoved it down.

"Good." Abigail casually ripped a gaping hole in our tree-trunk prison. "Better start running." She flicked the cape and dissolved into mist. "I've got your back."

Reassured, I followed Sev as he dashed out the hole. Yells followed our escape; yells that rapidly turned into screams, before fading away to nothing.

Sev didn't even glance back as he slipped into the trees.

---

"She won't kill them," I said.

We were walking down a moonlit path, deep in the forest. The trees crowded close in the dark, branches reaching out to scrape my face and arms. My hat stayed on my head like magic. Well, it actually was magic, but still.

"Huh?" Sev looked back.

"Abby. She'll scare them, and maybe bite a few, but she won't kill anyone."

"That's good, I guess."

"Hey, you alright?" I step forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "You seem…"

"Tired?" He smiled back at me. "It's getting pretty late. And my bond.." His hand dropped to the camera case he carried. "Anyways, we're here." He waved ahead, where I could see a clearing in the trees. I stepped past him, walking out of the tree line.

It was definitely the One Tree, that I could tell at a glance. It had the same leaves and bark as his travel-sized version, but it was three times taller than me. Not particularly impressive, compared to a sequoia or even an oak, but there was power rolling off it in waves. I smelled rose and vanilla, touched with cinnamon and spruce; its magic was warm and calming, and I'd have loved to just sink into it; but there on the trunk, at just above eye-level, was a golden spiral, many-armed and hollow.

"Damn." I frowned. "No wonder it got the elves." I walked over to the tree, stopping just before I touched it. "I'd hoped the Winding itself was on the tree, but if it's just the sigil… still, we were close, now. The locus should be nearby." I stepped back, turning and staring around the clearing.

"James?"

I turned back to Sev.

"I'm not feeling so good." He rubbed his forehead, and my eyes widened.

"Alright. Move a few steps away from the Tree, and—" I felt, more than saw, the surge of power. It flashed from the Tree, to the camera case, to Sev. A split-second later, a golden sigil appeared on his brow.

"Aw, hell." I really should have seen that coming.

He was on me in a flash.

I tried to fight back, I really did. But he was stronger than a man, and driven by a maniacal purpose. His fist slipped past my amateur defenses and clocked me on side of the head. I saw stars for a second and staggered backwards, but by the time I was back on my feet, vines and branches were springing out of the ground, grasping for me. I tried to leap sideways, but found myself caught; I was wrapped from head to toe before I could blink.

"Sev, stop! This isn't you!"

"You're right." He shook his head slowly. "But… I don't actually care." He shrugged. "I have more important things to worry about now." He carefully unbuckled the camera case, and pulled out his tree. The sigil on the leaves was obvious now, clear and crisp even when he wasn't touching it. I'd assumed, since the bond was fraying, that it wouldn't be a big deal, but… damn.

"And soon, you will, too. I'll find out what you care about, James Kerry, and I'll eat it." He smiled cheerfully. "And then you won't care, either."

"That's what you want?" I shook my head slowly. "The thing I care about? Fine. I'll tell you."

"Is this a trick?" He squinted at me.

"Judge for yourself. There's a picture of her in my wallet."

I felt the vines shift, and it was plucked from my pocket.

"First pocket on the left, under my library card."

He flipped it open and slid the photo out. I couldn't see it in the dark, but I traced the features with my mind; she had toned arms, brown eyes, brown hair, a dimple on her nose, a warm, loving smile, and a blue streak in her hair; it was her favorite color, but she never wore it on her clothes.

"This is…" His voice trailed off.

"The bartender. I don't know if you saw her. She is… was, my girlfriend." I thought I'd gotten over it, but I still had to fight to keep my voice from cracking. "Three years ago, there was an Incursion. Abbey, Mel, Four-Lanes and I, we put it down. It wasn't my first, but it was bad, the worst we had faced."

"As bad as me?" The sigil on his forehead flashed.

"Oh, fuck you." I spat. "A few trees and some elves? You barely have a toehold here. The Seething Void had swallowed half the city. We fought, and fought, and fought, and it wasn't enough. In the end, I burned it out." I laughed, harsh at first, but finally with real, raw mirth. "And afterwards, I only had three friends. The love of my life, the most wonderful person I'd ever met, had no idea who I was, what we had done. You want to know who I care about? Her name is Melody Speare! She drank whiskey neat, and played the harmonica! She laughs at the wrong time watching movies, and her favorite food is asparagus! I was going to propose to her! And she has no idea who I am."

I grit my teeth. The chill in my chest was surging, and I finally, finally reached for it. "After that, I said never again. I said the next time would be different. I said I'd do better. But you know what? Fuck you." The chill raced up my spine and slammed into my head, and the thing-that-was-not-Sev's eyes snapped wide as a cold wind began to blow. "You can't beat me. You can't stop me. I'm the only one who can limit myself, and if I did any differently than this, I wouldn't be who I am! I'm going to pull you up, root and branch, and toss you back into the void from which you came!"

Not-Sev dashed forwards. I yanked on more power, and I knew my eyes were glowing, because they illuminated the terror on his face as he lunged for my throat.

"Die!" I yelled, and snapped my head forward to crunch into this nose.

And my hat slid off, like magic.

Well, it was magic.

It turned one lazy roll in the air, and the Hat of Transformations landed neatly on his head.

And he turned into a pumpkin.

He fell to the ground, the hat landing on top of him, and everything was suddenly still.

"Fuck." I gasped, long and shaky, then let out a trembling laugh. "Fuck me, that worked." I relaxed for a moment, just hanging there. Eventually, I had enough energy to twist and struggle until and the vines holding me gave. I slumped on the ground, taking deep, shaky breaths as I pulled the last plants off my body. I collected my wallet from where he'd dropped it, gently tucking the picture back into its place.

I looked down at the pumpkin, then patted my hat, making sure it wouldn't slip off accidentally. "You'll be fine like that for a bit." I stretched my back, and sighed. My Hat, Mantle, and Wand had all been used up. The only thing left at my disposal was True Magic.

Just a bit, then.

I pinched off the tiniest thread of the power flowing through me, just a hair, a strand of memory no longer than my finger. I had no idea who's it was, or what I was sacrificing for this, but… sometimes it didn't matter how expensive it was.

I drew the strand out before me and wrapped one end into a tiny ball, letting it dangle. A touch of will, and it began swinging in an invisible breeze. I watched it for a moment, then began to search.

I walked all around the clearing. I started at the outside and worked my way inwards through a lazy spiral. The stars were bright overhead, and the breeze I'd summoned was still blowing, licking the foliage into strange shapes in the moonlight. I wondered idly if Winding had more servants nearby; wildlife, maybe, or elves on lookout, and what I'd do if they showed up.

Finally, I stumbled across a dark shape, curled up under the roots of the One Tree.

"Oh, you poor thing."

It was a kitten. Small and black, thin enough the ribs were showing, and shivering in the chill air. It had a golden thread knotted around its paw.

"Were you abandoned?"

I didn't have the strength to fight back as I scooped it up. Tiny claws pricked my skin, but failed to draw blood. I forced it's foreleg straight, then sat down and began to tease out the Deosil Winding.

It was long, slow work. The kitten hissed and scrambled, but I held it firm. Finally, by the time my back was getting stiff and I was starting to feel chilled, I had it undone. The kitten calmed as soon as I freed it, trembling in my grasp. I tucked it into the pocket of my jacket, where it promptly curled up and went to sleep.

I looked at the Winding unwound, pooled in my palm. It seemed so innocuous, just a piece of slightly luminescent thread. If I didn't know better, it would be hard to imagine this as some cosmic destroyer of worlds.

I wrapped the ends around my hands and stretched it out before me. I could feel it fighting, it's power trying to control me, rule me. But my power held it back with ease, True Magic totally impervious to the pull of the unreal.

I gave a sharp yank.

Snap.

Something sounded through the trees, like the echo of a scream. I smelled ozone and ash, old paper and coffee.

The sigil on the tree faded.

I walked over to the pumpkin, and picked up my hat.

Sev blinked in confusion, then scrambled to his feet.

"What… how…"

"Don't worry about it." I shook my head. "Come on, let's head back."

I put on my Hat of Transformations.

"Man, I could use a drink."

---

I was a little surprised that the Second Shot was still open. Abigail, Seville, and I stood outside the door as Four-Lane sped off.

"It's only one in the morning." Sev shook his head in disbelief.

"That's how it goes." Abby shrugged. "Defeating cosmic horrors before breakfast is how we roll." She gave me a subtle glance. "You alright, James?"

"I hope so." I grinned wryly. "I had to spend a little power, but it wasn't much. Maybe someone in my audience forgot my show. If I'm really lucky, my landlord forgot to charge me rent."

Sev pushed the door open, and we trouped inside.

"And…" he glanced towards the bar, where a bartender with a blue streak in her hair was finishing up. "Her?"

"That was all true." I let out a long sigh. "Every word."

"You should… I dunno, say something to her."

"You've had your second chance." Abby looked up at me, meaningfully.

"Yeah."

"Everything worked out."

"Yeah."

"You did it differently this time."

"Yeah."

"Go on, you doofus!" She shoved me playfully, sending me stumbling into a table.

"Yeah."

I straightened my jacket, adjusted my hat, and walked over to the bar.

"What can I get you?" Melody smiled at me, I smiled back.

"Want to see a magic trick?" I reached into my pocket, and pulled out a quarter.

"Is this some sort of cheesy pickup line?" She grimaced, but her eyes sparkled.

"Probably." I smiled.

"Then sure, why not?"