3

Arcade Leroux was intimidating in his tranquility.

They recognized him because he wore the Elith seal on the right shoulder of his long coat along with ten service stripes along the sleeve, one for every eight years in the Belkin Militia, which didn't make any sense to Manayunk, because the man couldn't be a day over thirty. He sat there, his long legs spread out and crossed over one another under the table, and he didn't move from the hunched over stance he'd taken over it, the cigarette that burned between his lips glowing red.

With his black wingtips, black chinos, black hat, black poloneck, and black coat with the white sleeves, the starkness of his form was almost startling.

Elander, the guard that had led them through the winding maze that was the Elith castle, had told them not to be bothered by any of Arcade's quirks. It had seemed good enough advice at the time, and pretty applicable to the entire castle including Elander, who had skin that glittered like sand and hair that turned inexplicably red at the roots as well as the peculiarity of being able to be on the other side of the room one second right next to you the next.

Arcade had sharp, almond shaped eyes that had black rims around the winter blue irises and black pinprick pupils in theirs center, round, nezpince glasses before them. He had wavy, soft looking rose madder hair that was getting long but still looked like he'd try to cut it himself—it was all different lengths and different directions at the back and only the long locks in the front were even. One thick lock hung in his face and shivered by his nostril whenever he exhaled, which was strangely rare, and yet none of that really bothered Manayunk. For some reason, the things that struck him most were the beauty mark, maybe a freckle, on the inner corner of his eye, the slight pout of his bottom lip as he flipped through the papers in front of him, and the small, silver scars on his face that were there and not there at the same time. There was one at the edge of his lip, one at the corner of his eye, and one last one on his cheek, taking more colour away from an already colorless face.

The gallo was on his third lollipop.

Manayunk opened his mouth, then closed it, trying to speak but saying absolutely nothing. Solaris was mute, probably because she was just as clueless about how to approach this guy as her youngest brother, and Luca didn't speak because he'd been taught to leaving the talking to the professionals, but the way glanced towards his siblings and away again every few seconds, he was probably considering taking this into his own hands.

Arcade sighed after a couple of minutes of their stalling and twisted around slightly in his chair, the edge of his hat flipping slightly when he cocked his head towards them and Manayunk was suddenly struck with deja vu. He bit his lip, considering how this had become much too awkward, so he spoke.

"You're Arcade Leroux?" he asked.

"Oo's asking?" the man replied, his voice laced with a slight husk. Manayunk raised his eyebrow automatically at the accent—Belkin wasn't really known for its good foreign relations, so that they had a foreigner as the captain of their guard was an apparent oxymoron.

"We're the Lanes," said Solaris, gesturing to her brothers then herself. "I'm Solaris, and these are my brothers, Luca and Manayunk."

"We came to get something for the Imperial of Azarath," Manayunk went on, the lie rolling of his tongue so easily he wondered if his heart had already been tainted with Wick's bad intentions. He took out the envelope he'd slipped into his coat pocket and held it out to Arcade. "Here's the proof."

The man took the paper with a quick, snapping movement, his white gloves making a funny sound that made Manayunk shiver when they rubbed against the paper. He undid the seal, which somehow Wick had managed to counterfeit perfectly, and folded open the envelope, his eyes scanning over it with the sort of quick, nearly dismissive manner of just about every other guard on the planet, and Manayunk felt so bad that he was hoping they'd get caught, and the fact that they knew that would never happen, because Wick was just that good.

When Arcade reached the end of the letter, he scrutinized it for a good two seconds, and then he was done.

"Got it," Arcade said, folding the envelope in two with two fingers and put it in his pocket. He stood up very slowly, as though to accentuate his already startling height, being nearly a foot taller than Manayunk, then turned towards a thin door between two bookcases. "Dis way."

Solaris and Manayunk both blinked, though Luca hurried towards Arcade as he began to walk forward, and it wasn't hard to keep up with him. Despite his long stride he had a heavy limp, one noticeable enough that Manayunk had half a mind to suggest a cane before Arcade collapsed on the ground, but he kept his mouth shut in any case.

"So," the man with rose madder hair said while the four of them walked down a hall, the intricately woven tapestries that lined the walls sparkling with sunlight as they passed, "de Azarath imperial 'ires lupins now."

Manayunk went rigid, not sure how to react. It was usually a bad thing when someone pointed out what Luca was, and Wick usually had to sort it out. Maybe, since this man worked for the Eliths anyway, it wouldn't be such a big deal. Manayunk glanced at Solaris. She was scowling but she didn't have her fists balled up by her chest. Good thing, too. It would have been bad if she'd tried to punch out this guy—she might not have won.

"Don't talk to Luca like that," Solaris said, bypassing any sort of proof that Arcade had said anything condescending. "None of what happened is his fault."

Arcade glanced around at Solaris, looking down at her with uninterested eyes. "Yeh. I know dat. But 'oo you sposed to be?" He nodded towards her hand, which was firmly held onto Luca's wrist. "'is guardian angel? 'is girlfriend?"

"I'm his sister," she half growled, "and you're rude."

Arcade gave her a lengthy stare, then looked ahead of him again and took a long drag of his cigarette. "Forgive me," he said—the words didn't match his voice. "Guards ain' exactly known fo' dey tact."

"Well…" Solaris paused, confused by the sudden lack of offensive tactics against her little brother. It took her a little longer to realize Arcade was offering a truce. "…as long as you know."

The man nodded distantly, but that was it. He didn't seem to mind being berated by some over-protective blonde. Belkin was a funny place.

Not a second had passed before Arcade stopped at the end of the hall, a tall mahogany door, carved with the twisting, curling vines, similar to those on the front gate. Manayunk noticed a piece of paper violently tacked on the left door. Though the handwriting was heavily intricate, and it was difficult to read, he made it out quickly enough.

Thesis at work.

DO NOT DISTURB UNDER PENALTY OF DEATH.

You have been warned.

That last bit looked as though an educated axe murder had written it. Arcade didn't seem at all disturbed by the subtle death threat posted on the door (he even straightened out the little sign) and pushed it open with the palm of one gloved hand. His eyes flicked inside the room, then glanced back to the Lanes. Arcade was patient, they'd give him that. He waited a good thirty seconds before any of the Lanes took the chance to go inside the room of this strange place. At least they didn't need to be told to go inside—they weren't quite that dense.

Manayunk didn't know about his siblings, but he was personally surprised by the room. It wasn't particularly big, wasn't particularly exciting…it was just so…calm. Well, it was at first glance at least.

Mahogany shelves (apparently the Elith liked that wood) lined every wall up to the ceiling, and along the walls was book after book, at least a forest's worth, leather bound and paper bound and even newer, cardboard bound ones like the ones on earth, every single one probably worth more than Manayunk was, printed on gold leaf with silver writing on the spines, and the covers dyed with the most rich and extravagant of colours—crimson red, poppy blue, royal purple, and one of a kind stories and first edition novels all in mint condition—for a little while, the Gallo had worked both in a comic book store and in a library. He knew what this type of stuff was worth. He was also able to gauge that the Eliths had expensive taste.

The walls, however, bathed in colour and the extravagance of the elite like they were, seemed to serve as a distraction. A good one, albeit, but a superficial one. If the place had actually been cleaned once in a while, it might actually have looked nice, with six heavily decorated rosewood desks, three on each side of the room lined vertically so that there was a pathway between them, like an office, and the floor was more or less decent, with a few minor scuffs here and there, what was really bothersome was the amount of paper. It wasn't like the forest that had been tacked onto the wall—this was like the whole Amazon had actually gone and died and its corpses had been turned into paper which had been summarily placed in that room. There must have been three feet of the stuff on every one of those desks, tilting towards the floor, some actually collapsing onto the ground and sending bits of it up into the air which added to the madness. To be honest, looking at it all, Manayunk thought for a second he'd gone snow-blind.

His eyes adjusted slowly, slowly, and as they did, he could feel the need for tears to start building on their edges in the name of whoever had to deal with this madness at the end of the day. When there was no risk of permanently losing his eyesight he narrowed his eyes to scan the room. Manayunk honestly felt himself sob as his heart went out to the poor, poor soul, hustled at the last desk in the left row with two columns of paper looming over him at either side, like wardens to an inescapable white hell.

He looked almost identical to Arcade—he had the same pale, pale skin, the same shaped face, though his was definitely harder, the same vivid rose madder hair, even though he'd grown his out and it when down past his shoulder blades, the locks bristly and sharp closer to his crown and then soft and sleek where it lay lifeless on the desk, even the same beauty mark, glasses, and eyes, though where Arcade's were tranquil like snow, his were so frigid they were actually cold enough to give blisters.

He was muttering hateful incongruencies to himself, his eyes darting over a document he was holding—one with so many pages it was difficult to count the amount of staples that had gone in before it held—and his hands were gripping it tight enough to pierce the paper as he flipped through page after page. Occasionally, he would shove back his tie, which he had loosened and flipped over his shoulder so it stayed out of his way, but it didn't, and the third time he had to flip it over he gripped it tight and for a moment Manayunk could have sworn that he was contemplating hanging himself with it.

"Tesis, I need to axe you someting," Arcade called, his voice echoing against the mountains of paper, while he rubbed some dirt off a plaque tacked onto the wall next to him with his thumb, "you mine quitting dat fo' a moment an' 'elping me?"

Tesis…Thesis? The word on the door was a name? Manayunk felt himself shrug subconsciously in acceptance—it wouldn't be natural for this place to surprise him anymore than it already had.

Thesis stopped, froze, and then it was like he cracked. His head snapped up, eyes burning like blue fire, and if he wasn't going to kill himself, then someone would have to compensate. Manayunk stepped back—it sure as hell wasn't going to be him.

"No," the man snarled, the fountain pen he was holding in his left hand making a dangerous sound. "So if you would, leave me in my own misery!"

"'Coute, it'll only take a-" Arcade was cut off by the sudden swiping motion Tesis made with his pen, and it was very suspiciously pointed towards the Lanes.

"What has this place become, a halfway house?!" he spat, shooting to his feet so he could lean further forward over the table. "If these are the people you want me to aid, then I'm afraid you're out of luck. I do not, and I repeat, do not associate myself with beggars and prostitutes!"

Manayunk really felt the backlash on that one, so Solaris must have seriously taken a hit.

"Excuse me!?" the woman cried, her face red with indignation. "I am not a prostitute!"

Thesis steeled and he bared his teeth. It was on.

"Then maybe you should wear a brassiere for once to avoid people putting one veda bills down your shirt! And not only that, in my experience only women of ill repute walk around wearing pants! You may as well have a sign on your back saying 'will sleep for food'!"

Solaris gasped and her arms snapped to wrap around her chest.

"You're mean!" she cried, and to that Thesis pushed out a sarcastic and heavily chagrinned smile.

"Oh, what soaring rhetoric!" he proclaimed, waving his hand in the air. "I'm sure you've won all the fights with your classmates in kindergarten like that!"

"Tesis, calm down," Arcade sighed finally, like a parent who'd suffered through enough of their children's tantrums not to care anymore. "Don' take you frustration out on dem."

"And who in heaven's name am I supposed to take it out on!?" he shrieked, his voice getting high pitched with hysterics. "You've trapped me in this miserable room for the rest of my natural life! I'm a prisoner to this godblessed pen! What in Almira's name else am I supposed to do?!"

"I know you got you problems but could you 'ave you mental collapse anoder time? When you by youself preferably."

Thesis stared at him for one long incredulous moment and then snapped his finger towards the door.

"Get out."

"Jus' tell me where dat book I tol' you to put someway safe a couple of years bag went to, an' I'll be outta 'ere."

Thesis narrowed his eyes but whatever it was Arcade had said, he seemed to simmer down.

"The tome?"

"Yeh."

"With the notes in it."

"Dass de one."

The man in the paper sea narrowed his eyes so thin they nearly shut and then collapsed back into his chair with a heavy sigh. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll get it for you. But only because I'm not letting you touch that book. Fire hazard that you are."

"Souns fair to me."

"And so you don't get smug, I'd like you to know that I realize I'm being conned," Thesis growled. "I'm being manipulated willingly, don't think otherwise."

"Alohrs pas," Arcade said, his face as calm as before. "Never dreamed of it."

Thesis grumbled faintly but he seemed to take his defeat in stride. He stood, smoothing out the front of his silk maroon paisley waistcoat and rolling down the sleeves of his dress shirt, quickly making sure the flat, black and gold club shaped cufflinks were still there, and then redid the first couple of buttons of his shirt, lastly slipping his tie safely back into his waistcoat, and with just those few motions, he looked quite put together. Almost handsome, if it wasn't for that scowl.

"Are you clones?" Luca asked blankly, his face surprisingly intrigued by the two. Manayunk had the weird feeling that it was his fault that Luca was asking if they were clones instead of twins. Maybe he should have laid off reading all those sci-fis to Luca.

Thesis looked at him angrily.

"We're related," he said. "Distantly. Very distantly. Very, very, very, very-"

"We cousins," Arcade cut in. "Our grandfader 'ad strong blood."

Thesis grumbled something then took in a thick breath.

"Arcade, I presume you won't be accompanying us," he said, his voice calmed to a chill.

"I'd 'ave to be motier faux," Arcade replied.

Thesis shook his head as he picked up a smaller pile of documents and cradled them in his left arm. Before Arcade could ask, and it looked like he was getting ready to, the second man interjected. "I'm taking these to my room," he explained. "I refuse to sleep in this place for one more night."

"Right. Knock youself out."

Thesis's scowl deepened, as though his counterpart's apparent apathy towards his annoyance was something to be rued. With one loud huff, he turned and went out from behind the desk, moving nimbly through the would-be forest, and then he walked out the door without any word of explanation.

The Lanes, or rather, Solaris and Manayunk looked at Arcade in confusion, but when the man nodded for them to follow his disgruntled look-alike, the sped along the corridor at top speed in an attempt to keep up with the pace of Thesis's long legs.

The walk was…startlingly silent. Thesis's icy eyes stayed trained ahead of him, the 'tap-tap-tap' of his black and white wing tips against the floor ominous in the empty halls.

For Manayunk, it had long passed the point of awkward and was on an entirely new plane. Sure, there was really no point in talking to someone who was quickly going to dismiss you anyway, but still.

"I'm Manayunk, by the way," the redhead offered, "and these are Solaris and Luca. We're siblings."

Thesis glanced back for a moment, let out a slight harrumph and then his eyes were ahead of them again. He really wasn't making this very easy.

"So, Thesis, huh?" Manayunk said, trying his hardest to make small talk with this icy man. "Odd name."

"Indeed," said the man. His voice was undeniably spiteful as he continued. "My name is actually Theurelias, but it would seem people here are simply too lazy to say the entire thing."

"Theurelias, huh? No offense, but I think you're better off saddled with Thesis."

"Said Manayunk," Thesis grumbled.

That effectively ended that conversation.

As they walked, the Lanes became suddenly aware of just how huge the Elith castle was. Every hall way had ten other hallways stretching off of it, with at least twenty doors along each wall. That may have been an exaggeration, but Manayunk severely doubted it. Even the stair cases looped and intertwined with each other before leading off to separate platforms. It wouldn't have surprised Manayunk if Escher had designed the place along with a little help from Dali.

"How much farther do we have to walk?" Solaris complained after the eighth flight of stairs, those being the second flight they had gone down on right after going up. Manayunk didn't want to know how that worked. "These shoes haven't been broken in yet!"

"Perhaps in future you will refrain from wearing things that don't fit you," Thesis said mumbled.

Manayunk's laughter came out as a loud snort.

"Shut up!" She snapped, her face red. "Who asked you, Suit and Tie!?"

"Don't name me after my clothes, thank you."

"Then don't say my shoes don't fit me!"

"They don't fit you."

Solaris stuck up her nose at him in some strange form of retaliation, but he hardly noticed it as he pushed the papers very carefully into one arm, and pulled a ring of keys from his breast pocket, putting one of the larger ones into a door in front of him and twisting. The door creaked as he pushed it open.

They all froze not so long after that. It wasn't as though there was anything wrong with the room, there wasn't. A bed was pushed up into the far corner with wrinkled white sheets and one pillow. Next its head was a drawer with a simple oil lamp on top of it and a number of pens strewn about. On the opposite edge of the room was an intricately carved red wood desk, a mahogany chair sitting in front of it, with a dark suit jacket folded over the backrest. A number of closets were built into the wall, next to another door, which probably lead to a bath room. All in all, the room was very nice. What surprised them was the adolescent boy clamouring in through the window.

He wore a flat cap over his rich, seal brown hair, and his dark, orange tinged skin had intricate tattoos winding up it along his left arm and the back of his neck. His huge, glittering eyes were like a cat's. This wouldn't have been too astounding of a sight, children went through windows all the time, if it hadn't have been for the fact they were on the eighth floor.

When he saw them he stopped dead, one leg in the room, one leg out, obviously contemplating escape.

"Uhhh…" he began, "I can explain."

"Celikai, vacate yourself from my room immediately!" Thesis yelled, dumping the papers on the desk and turning sharply to the boy.

"Wait, I need to find something first!" the boy, Celikai, cried over the man's enraged snarl. "Hold on."

"I do not have any of your things! Get out!"

"I think I may have left it here by accident, Thesis."

"Left it here when exactly?"

The boy paused, his big orange eyes flicking to the side. "uhhh…"

"Have you been sneaking into my room while I'm not here?!"

"I'm sorry! But you've been sleeping in the study the last couple of days, so I didn't think you would mind! And you know I'm not allowed in my proper room until the weekends! I couldn't help it. Your room is so much bigger than mine!"

"That's because I-am-big-ger-than-you," Thesis pronounced every syllable through his teeth as though that would somehow make it easier for Celkai to understand. It didn't really seem to work.

"That's not fair!" Celikai protested. "The older one should have the bigger room!"

Thesis cleared his throat abruptly and Celikai stopped. Manayunk just barely caught the warning glance that the man shot the boy, but he didn't understand it in the slightest.

Celikai quirked his eyebrow slightly in confusion, and then his eyes met the Lanes'. Manayunk even waved. The boy jolted suddenly.

"Who are they!?"

"Celikai," Thesis said very slowly, "These are visitors come to pick up a book from our library. So if you wouldn't mind…" He held his hand out towards the window.

"Right," Celikai said, his face nervous. "I'll be back later, then."

"Don't you dare come back later!" Thesis cried, but Celikai must not have noticed, because in the same strange mix of bravery and absolute stupidity he went back out the eighth story window. Manayunk felt himself gape. Was that kid suicidal? He was going to fall and die!

"Aren't you going to stop him!?" Solaris cried, holding her hands towards the window with boggling eyes. "What if he falls?"

"He'll be fine. He never falls." Thesis went to the window and pulled it shut. "Unfortunately."

He turned back to the Lanes with an angry nod and a huff.

"If you please, may we resume?" he implored, holding his hand out towards the door. "Please."

The Lanes shuffled quickly out, not wanting to anger Thesis more than they already had.

"Why does that boy live here?" Luca asked, not at all intimidated by Thesis's dark aura. Being a lupin obviously tampered with the levels of bravery in a person. Now that Manayunk thought about it, Luca hadn't really seemed that surprised about a teenager running around on walls. He supposed Luca would have been a fan of Spiderman.

"He's a guard," Thesis replied, not minding that Manayunk and Solaris both missed a step.

"Do you live here too?"

"All the guards live here. It's a requirement of the Elith family."

"Why?"

Thesis stopped and turned around. His eyes as they stared at Luca had gone from frigid to glacial, the set of his lips a hard and dangerous line. He looked at Luca like that for a few very, very long seconds, the dangerous emotion on his face freezing every facet of his pale skin, and then he turned away and walked on.

"They have their reasons," he rasped, and then he said no more.

He didn't know about the other two, but Manayunk had definitely been scared into silence. Soon enough, the halls widened and straightened out, until they reached a vast pair of double doors at the end of the eeriest hall of all—it was completely empty, save for the occasional torch hung on the wall.

The doors were made of ebony and glistened in the light coming in from the mosaic windows on either side. Engraved on them was the Elith seal—a pair of folded wings, perhaps of an angel, rings stretching out behind them like a target, ancient runes in a language no one spoke anymore written along the rings' edges, and adorned on the outer ring was fire, like flames from the sun. It was simple but it was pretty. Manayunk had certainly always thought so.

Thesis didn't say a single word when he pushed the doors open, revealing a room that could only have been a library, and didn't change his mind about his contempt for the Lanes as he moved swiftly over the dark library floors, shoes echoing, through the perfectly aligned rows of shelves, and then finally he stopped at a particular bookshelf that's wood was a noticeably darker hue, and all its books were delicate looking and aged.

He turned to the Lanes, as though to say 'well?' before turning back to the bookcase and flipping his fingers delicately over the spines of the books until he reached one, dusty with under use and age but luminescent none-the-less, and pulled it gently into both hands, cradling it gently like he would a small child. When he handed it to the Lanes, Manayunk reached out, but as soon as his hands grazed the books cover Thesis yanked it back towards his chest with a thick and hateful snarl.

"If anything, and I mean anything, happens to this book, I will personally hunt you down and use all the resources made available by the Elith family to make you pay," he warned, "Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Manayunk replied, failing to be nonchalant as he had intended.

"Why is the book so important?" Luca asked and Thesis looked as though he'd been slapped.

"Can't you tell?" he demanded, waving towards the intricate golden curls painted on the leather bound cover. "This is more than just a book—this is a piece of artistry."

"I don't understand. Books aren't for art, they're for-"

Solaris elbowed Luca in the ribs before he could aggravate the already fuming Thesis more than the three of them had already done. She smiled reluctantly-she must have still held a grudge for being called a hooker-and held her arms out to take the book.

Thesis gave it to her with a stark reluctance and she held it to her chest before he could change his mind and steal it back.

"Thanks," she told him and the man rolled his eyes.

"Indeed," he replied gruffly, "Now, not to sound rude but," he narrowed his eyes, "Get out."

"Age before beauty," Solaris spat and when Thesis's fingers started to twitch, the redhead grabbed both his siblings by their sleeves and yanked them to follow him to the door, knowing good and well that asking for a map out would be pushing it.

"Thanks for again the book," he called to Thesis and Thesis snapped, "Don't yell in the library!" before the Gallo shut the door behind him.

Manayunk took in a heavy sigh and collapsed against the doorframe, the stick of his lollipop hanging loose against his lip.

"God, what a jerk!" Solaris complained. "Can believe him?"

"You weren't much better," Manayunk breathed. "Can we just get out of here?"

"Yes," Luca agreed. "Master will be worrying about us."

Manayunk turned off the urge to roll his eyes, stood up straight and started walking down the hall. He only realized after fifteen minutes had passed and the hallways had begun to be decorated with trophy heads of animals from all over the world that he didn't have a clue where they were meant to go.

"C'mon, I think this is the way out," he said, gesturing to a hallway that led to the left.

"No, Mana, let's go this way," Solaris said and angled her head towards the right. "Your way is stupid."

"No, no, I got it this time! Let me just-"

"We're going this way, Mana! I'm your older sister! Listen to me!"

"Quit being such a kid, Solaris!"

"You're the kid, you immature stupid head!"

"I can-" Luca started only to be silenced by simultaneous snaps of their hands in his direction.

Solaris shoved the book into the baffled lupin's arms and wrenched Manayunk towards her with a strength her youngest brother had long forgotten she had.

"Face it, Mana! You have dad's sense of direction! I know what I'm doing!"

"And you have mom's hard-headedness! Just trust me for once!"

"For once? I always trust you and bad things always happen to us!"

"Bad things?! Name one example of-" he jerked himself away from his sister, and without any warning, she let go. Without anything to stop him, he hurtled backwards, bracing himself for hitting the hard ground, but instead he knocked into the solid mass of another person. Both of them clattered to the floor, Manayunk landing face first with a painful 'slap', lollipop stick being jolted from between his lips, while the other person was sent sprawling in front of him.

"Christ, watch where you're going, why don't you."

"I'm sorry!" he apologized, pushing himself up, "I didn't mean to…" He trailed off into an expression of horror when he looked up to see Cherish, except the white hat he had been wearing was on the floor to his left, and where it had once been, pushing out almost horizontally from that strange hair, were a pair of thick, long, sharp horns.

Cherish narrowed his eyes as though he was confused, and then his eyes flicked to the side, and he saw his hat, and when his gaze fell upon the Lanes again it was smoldering.

Manayunk flew to his feet with a newfound revitalization and attempted to take his sister and brother and run for it, but his ankle was grabbed from behind and he fell face flat for the second time around.

"You really think I'll let you leave after seeing that?" Cherish said with a sneer, his eyes glowing, nails digging into Manayunk's skin, "You got another thing coming."

"Let go! Let go, let go, let go!" Manayunk demanded, spiraling rapidly into hysterics, and then out of his peripheral vision Luca burst into the scene, smashing headlong into Cherish and landing on top of him. His teeth were locked onto Cherish's hand, his body quaking with every growl that rumbled through his chest, but the guard was still smiling though it bordered dangerously on a grimace.

"Sorry, friend," he said, voice jeering as though Luca didn't stand a chance, "but it'll take more than a bite from some human to pierce this hide."

The lupin's growls intensified tenfold and then there was a crack and blood started to drip from Cherish's hand. The man's face twisted in pain and horror when he realized he'd underestimated Luca severely.

"Holy…!" he cried, and with one loud punch had Luca sprawling to one side. The lupin pounced to his feet again, ready to attack once more, but before he could do anything crazy, both Solaris and Manayunk grabbed either arm and they ran for it.

They didn't know if Cherish was following them and they sure weren't stupid enough to stop and check, so they ran and ran for their lives worth. There was a loud thump behind them, the definite sound of footsteps, and then they, Manayunk and Solaris really, started to panic.

"Wait, let's hide here!" Solaris cried, swerving towards a propped open door to the side and yanking her brothers in. "Hurry! Hurry!"

She slammed the door behind them and then pressed her back against it with a sigh of relief. It was a short lived feeling.

The guard Elander from before stood there, in front of a mirror in the wall, shirtless and toweling off his wet hair, the dark, the ornate tattoos and the spiny ridge running down his back glistening with water. He stopped, turned his head very slowly towards them, blinked, and then they shared the same moment of complete and utter petrification before Elander's pupils narrowed suddenly into slits.

Solaris and Manayunk let out simultaneous shrieks and then they were off like rockets down the hall again, dragging Luca behind them like a kite.

"How the heck do you get out of this mad house!?" Manayunk screamed, not knowing how much he could take. Of all the places he could have died, this was the one he liked the least.

"Just keep running!" Solaris cried next to him and the trio made a sharp turn to the left, praying to get out, and then crash, their legs caught on one another and they all fell to the ground like a stack of dominos. The book jerked out of Luca's arms and slid across the floor to be stopped by a black wingtip shoe.

Their heads lifted slowly up, the air crisping around the edges when they met Arcade's dire eyes while the auras around the guards behind him was fully alight. Slowly, he lifted his hand, took off his hat, and pressed it to his chest, a pair of small, blunt brown horns poking through his hair.

"Now," he said, voice rasping with old smoke, "'ow will we sort dis out?"