“So he was in here, then,” Moriguchi said.

Rosemary had lit the torches in the fencing room, a series of cheery, bright yellow orbs lighting the entire area. It was only after the sconces were filled that the full scene of Joseph and Ket's duel became evident, the floor broken and scrabbled, the stone on the walls warped and twisted by the rabbit's shadows, a burn mark lanced through the ceiling from Joseph's thunderbolt.

“Geez, Joseph,” Rosemary said to that last part, “You couldn't have just walked out of the room?”

“Not really,” Joseph said. He was sitting down as she looked over his broken nose.

“Right,” she said, “This is gonna hurt.”

She gently rested a hand on his nose.

“Ready?”

“...Ready,” Joseph said.

With a twist, she set it back in place, a bass-lined crack that almost echoed through the room, overshadowed by Joseph's sudden scream of pain. He fell back, his teeth gritting so hard that he swore they were breaking against one another.

“That should be fine for the night,” Rosemary said, “But we'll want to have Elenry get a look at you when we get home.”

She looked over at Moriguchi. He and Ket were standing by the door.

“You're alright, too?” she asked.

“Of course,” Moriguchi said. Ket simply nodded.

“You don't look alright,” Rosemary said.

“I'm not,” Moriguchi said, “But finding that shapeshifter is more important than my personal grooming.”

“I meant that injury of yours-”

“I know,” Moriguchi said, “Trust me, friend, I'll be fine.”

Joseph blinked back a few last tears, the pain receding somewhat as he stockily stood up. He looked over at Moriguchi.

“You said the shapeshifter attacked you with a knife, right?” he asked.

“Yes,” Moriguchi said, “Ket, if you will.”

The rabbit nodded, kneeling down and plunging a hand into his cast shadow, sinking into the black as though it were a pool of water, before pulling out the weapon. He considered it for a moment, before showing it to Joseph.

“Look familiar?” he asked, a hint of lingering accusation in his voice.

“Yeah,” Joseph drawled, “I just casually keep kitchen knives in my pockets all the time.”

“Then it's not familiar,” Ket said.

“Of course it's not, I've never seen it in my life.”

“It looks like a butcher's knife from the kitchen,” Rosemary said, “The shapeshifter probably got it from there.”

“Disguised as a servant, no doubt,” Moriguchi said, “And he didn't mean to kill me, either. He just wanted to turn us against each other”

“Which means we should get outside,” Joseph said, “All four of us. Now.”

There was a moment where the other three stared at him for a moment, before the full weight of his words sunk in.

If they were all in here-

And the shapeshifter was out there-

Rosemary was the first out the door. Joseph second, wiping his nose and hiding his sleeve, then Moriguchi. Ket stopped him as they went out the door, pulling his shadow free.

“Here,” the rabbit said.

He began fashioning a new suit for his guildmate, a tuxedo much like Joseph's, only black as the night itself. Moriguchi looked at it, for a few moments, before pulling it on.

“Thank you,” he said, “I'm still upset about my charro.”

“I don't care,” Ket said, “Walk.”

They almost sprinted to the door and back into the gala. Rosemary took the lead, running into the crowd. Joseph followed close behind – only for a hand to close over his shoulder and pull him back into the hallway.

“Careful, chamaco,” Moriguchi said, “Best be careful.”

“Rosemary's going alone,” Joseph growled, “Let me go-”

“Let me explain,” Moriguchi said, “She'll be fine. But if we want to make this a game of action over reaction, we must tread carefully...”

He began to explain as Rosemary entered back into the gala.

***

Rosemary beelined for the Doge and Rithmound, pushing people out of her way, her heart hammering, in opposition to the orchestra’s slow drawl. The entire gala swooned and swam as she kept her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sunala take notice and begin walking parallel to her for a few moments, looking for a gap between the dancing and merry-going, before she slipped through and drew in close.

“What news?” she asked.

“Shapeshifter lured us into a room,” Rosemary said. Then she stopped, glaring at Sunala for a moment suspiciously, “Tell me something only you would know about me,” she said.

“You're not an elf,” Sunala whispered.

“...Alright, it's you,” Rosemary said, “You prefer The Elfking's Return over Parable of Elinantir.”

“Good,” Sunala said, “Where's Mr. Zheng?”

For a second, Rosemary glanced back. Joseph was nowhere near her. No- she could see him now, hiding by the door, glaring behind him. Moriguchi's hand was on his shoulder.

“Indisposed,” she said, “I'll catch you up when we're done.”

“Very well,” Sunala said, “The shapeshifter-?”

“Slipped us by, think he's going for the Doge.”

“Well, no one's gone near the Doge for a while, just his Master of Arms,” Sunala said. They were nearing Busciver now, he and Rithmound laughing it up by a table full of empty wine glasses, their eyes bloodshot and their laughs far too exaggerated to be sober. Strange drinking buddies, indeed.

“Good,” Rosemary said, “Okay, good. The shapeshifter knows about the bodies he’s disguising himself as.”

“But we mustn't discount that he may be able to take on other forms,” Sunala said.

The Master of Arms was keeping a lookout, and Rosemary noticed that she was very surreptitiously guiding the Doge’s onlookers, who hung around him like a gaggle of geese, away from him, keeping him and Rithmound separate from the rest of the gala.

“The Master of Arms?” Rosemary said.

“You’re a shapeshifter, Rosemary,” Sunala said.

“Which means… You can take on more than a humanoid form.”

It made sense. The shapeshifter had, thus far, attempted his attacks on the Doge by disguising himself as the servants of the gala. A good play, but at this point Rosemary and Joseph had caught onto that, as had the Master of Arms.

What the hell was taking Joseph so long?

She drew closer to the Doge and Lord Rithmound, gripping her sceptre. She noted the Master of Arms was looking at her with some suspicion, but Rosemary ignored that. Her mind was racing.

What other forms could a shapeshifter take? She knew of werefolk, people who shifted to animalistic forms. Changelings could change their shape, but were locked into a humanoid form. But to escape the room Ket and Joseph had been fighting in, while the room was completely covered in shadows, one couldn’t be humanoid – or at least, couldn’t be human-sized. Ket would have caught them, if he wasn’t bullshitting on his abilities.

Then he couldn’t be–

Then she saw the ground shift by the Doge's feet.

“The floor!” she cried out, “The floor!”

The stone beneath the two drunken politicians began to seethe and bubble, and she noticed a hand form out of marble, reaching up towards them. Slowly at first. Carefully. But as no one save for Rosemary seemed to notice, the shapeshifter became bolder, the hand snaking up-

Rosemary pounced, letting out a snarl as her sceptre smashed the hand into the ground, pinning it beneath the sceptre's head. The hand squirmed beneath for a moment, before it began to melt into a strange, grayish goo.

“Burn,” Rosemary growled.

She fired up the ground beneath her, something that caused the Doge and Lord Rithmound to cry out suddenly as they averted their eyes. The world lit for a brief moment, the shapeshifter dispersing, the smell of burning plastic filling the air.

She felt the shapeshifter twist beneath her feet and retreat. She could just make him out, now that she knew what to look for. Evidently she had only gotten part of the assassin, scorched him so thoroughly that part of the shapeshifter's makeup had melted into the floor. He was disguising himself well, almost a perfectly flat sheet that slithered across the floor, so thin he could slip beneath the feet of the gala's patrons, a slight shimmering of stone the only testament to his existence. He had even hidden the burn.

“I say!” Doge Busciver wheezed behind her, “Ms. Rosemary, the nerve!”

“Oh!” Rosemary blinked, looking around her. The greater gala hadn't noticed her little light show, though the nobles who had been hanging around the Doge like vultures were staring at her now. Rosemary felt herself go red as she said, “Oh! Sorry about that, Mr. Doge, sir, just a bit too much drinking, and all that-”

“I can't say I'm surprised,” Doge Busciver said, “It's late in the night, and we've all been having a bit too much, haven't we, Bryce?”

“Not I,” Lord Rithmound said, though he swayed a bit, “I haven't had a sip all night, Busciver.”

“Of course, of course,” Doge Busciver said, “Shall we partake in that Alevian Brandy?”

“Yes, let's,” Lord Rithmound said, “I shan't drink any, though. Just you...”

The two began stumbling towards another wine casket. The vultures resumed following them.

“Excellent work,” Sunala said, catching up to Rosemary, “A bit obvious, I think.”

“Yeah, but I had to be,” Rosemary said, gritting her teeth, “That was close.”

She looked ‘round.

“Way too close,” she said, “I don't see the shapeshifter anymore.”

“He'll be back in the shadows, now,” Sunala said, “Keep an eye on him. Tell Mr. Zheng to become disposed, hmm?”

“Of course, Milady,” Rosemary said.

Indeed, she would have words with Mr. Disappearing Act.

***

She found Joseph by the staircase that led to the second floor, a glass of wine in his hand that he was swilling. He was leaning against the wall, a dour expression on his face that was accentuated by his off-kilter nose.

“Well?” Rosemary said.

“Moriguchi stopped me,” Joseph said.

“I could've used backup there,” she said. She walked to his side and crossed her arms, “I only got part of him.”

“He would've gotten away regardless,” Joseph said.

“Bull,” Rosemary said, “We had him. If you had been there-”

“Listen, Moriguchi and I talked for a second,” Joseph said.

“And what'd he say?”

“He said,” Joseph took an angry sip of his wine, “I hate it when he's right.”

“Joseph, what did he say?”

“He wants us to keep our alliance a secret,” Joseph said, “Not make it obvious. I told him that was bullshit, he said that we can't give the shapeshifter any hint that we've banded together. The fact that we're aware of the shapeshifter's little game means that we can get the jump on him, when the time comes.”

“You think he'll try to push us into another spat again?” Rosemary said.

“Yeah,” Joseph said. He glanced down for a moment at his ruined sleeve, pulling a face, “Dammit, I liked this suit a lot.”

“No one's said anything?” Rosemary asked.

“No one,” Joseph said, “I don't think anyone cares right now. Look, they're all drunk.”

Indeed, the gala had taken on a slower, more sauntering air to it, molasses-like and tinged with an almost hysterical edge, like someone on the verge of a breakdown and a giggling fit. The music aped the vibe, becoming swooning and romantic.

“I still think we could've taken him,” Rosemary said.

“Same,” Joseph said, “But Moriguchi said anything we'd do would just cause more of a stir.”

“And you believe him?” Rosemary asked.

“...Sort've,” Joseph said. He put the glass down on the tray of a passing servant, nodding in thanks as the servant took it away, “Look, if we had failed, if all four of us had gone after him, then the shapeshifter would've known that we were all together, and he'd go back into hiding again.”

“And if it had just been the two of us?” Rosemary prodded.

“Then he would still have been suspicious,” Joseph said, “The last time he saw me, I was fighting Ket. The shapeshifter runs out, then a few moments later I run out with you? The timeline doesn't add up.”

“So you hid behind a corner and watched me embarrass myself in front of the Doge,” Rosemary said.

“...Okay, when you put it like that, that makes it sound really bad,” Joseph said. He gave a wince as she shot a glare at him, “Sorry.”

“It's... it's fine,” Rosemary said. She stared back at the gala, “Really, it is.”

There was something in her voice. Joseph gave her a sympathetic look.

“You alright?”

“I'm fine, Joe,” Rosemary said.

“Are you?”

And she was silent. Joseph watched as she wilted slightly, staring at the floor.

“I just wanted... I just wanted a fun night, alright? None of this knife in the shadows bullshit. None of the suspicions.”

“Just a night of looking pretty, dancing, all that stuff,” Joseph said, “Like out of a fairy tale.”

“Yeah,” Rosemary said.

“Well, the night's still young,” Joseph said, “There's still time, right?”

“Sure,” Rosemary said, though what little optimism there was was forced, “Let's just... let's just do our jobs, yeah?”

“...Yeah,” Joseph echoed. He followed her as she made her way back into the thick of things.

***

“It's a clever plan, Ket,” Moriguchi said, “He turns us against each other, and he goes after his target.”

The two of them were on the second floor, each with a flute of wine, though Ket was not drinking his. Moriguchi was looking over towards the dancers below, noting as their newfound allies made their way across the ballroom floor. The stench of wine was in the air – it dribbled on coats and dresses now, staining them purple and red, though the dancers didn't seem to care much, instead laughing at their own misfortune.

Moriguchi predicted a lot of hangovers.

“And he'll do it again?” Ket asked.

“Presumably,” Ket said, “He didn't account for Rosemary, is all. Probably underestimated her. But you can't underestimate other guilds, eh?”

“You think he's one of us,” Ket said.

“What, part of a guild?” Moriguchi said, “Not ours, no. Ultan would have told us.”

“But a guild,” Ket said.

“He'd better be, or he's in big trouble when we catch him,” the roshador said, “If the Scuttleway Militia doesn't get him, the Federation will.”

“If we catch him,” Ket said.

“Ahh, don't be so cynical, hermano,” Moriguchi said, “We will catch him. We just need to think he's trapping us again.”

“He's not going to make the same play again,” Ket said.

“He may not,” Moriguchi said. He looked at his flute of wine.

“I should drink,” he said, “Go somewhere private, remove the mask, calm the nerves.”

“You shouldn't drink,” Ket said, “You've lost too much blood.”

His guildmate frowned, staring at the glass for a moment before setting aside.

“I hate it when you're right,” he said.

“If you think he's going to pit us against the Amber Foundation again, you're wrong,” Ket said, “He doesn't need to. With our little spat over with, he will assume that we're watching the other.”

“True,” Moriguchi said, “We'll watch the other party, like we are now. We won't let our respective clients out of our sights.”

“So he needs to get us into the hallways once more,” Moriguchi said, “Back into the shadows. Away from his target.”

“...Is he targeting Rithmound?” Ket asked.

“Not sure,” Moriguchi replied, “When we get him, maybe you can ask.”

“If we catch him.”

Moriguchi looked at Ket with a pitying look in his eyes. He patted the rabbit on the shoulder.

“Get into the hallways again,” Moriguchi said, “Make it look like we're searching around for Raulito to ensure his safety. By separating ourselves, it might embolden the shapeshifter, enough for him to make another move.”

“One we'll be ready for,” Ket said.

“The shapeshifter doesn't realize that we know he exists,” Moriguchi said, “When it comes down to it, we'll use the Amber Foundation to trap the trapper.”

Ket nodded. Without another word he cast off, leaving Moriguchi alone. The roshador waited a few moments, just to be sure that the rabbit was indeed gone. Then, he went off into a corner with his glass of wine, removed part of his mask, and downed the drink.

Blood loss be damned, this was thirsty work.

***

Isaac Rithmound was just putting his coat jacket back on, giving a small smile to the Lady Busciver, when the door knocked. The two of them looked at one another, their good moods marred a bit with suspicion. Their coupling had been a rather rebellious act, both against the spirit of their respective families, and the spirit of the night.

For it had been a night of blood, hadn't it? Not that such a thing would get in the way of their nightly tryst. They had been going on about this secret relationship, behind the backs of the elder Rithmound and Busciver, for coming on three months now, never mind the secret conversations they had shared since childhood, the stolen glances, the heartache that came with knowing that, while you were in the same city, under the same sky, the world contorted itself in such a way that you could never be together.

Well, damn the world. They were in love, no matter the price.

The door rapped again, pulling Busciver and Isaac from their musings.

“Isaac,” Busciver said, her voice quivering a bit, “Who is it?”

“It's alright,” Isaac said. He looked around the room for a moment. Father had prepared him for these situations, given him a sidearm in case things went south at the gala. He had removed it during...

Ah, there it was. A dagger, silver in the moonlight that shined through the nearby window. They had chosen not to go to Buscie's room, instead going to one of the guest quarters, a quaint little place that looked out to the city. In hindsight, perhaps that wasn't the greatest of decisions. Isaac flipped the dagger in hand. He nodded to Buscie.

“Get under the bed,” he whispered, “I'll see who it is.”

“Okay,” Buscie said. She dove under the bed, crawling under as Isaac took a few careful steps to the door. He unlatched the lock. Nothing immediately happened, so with some trepidation he opened the door.

Moriguchi was on the other side. Isaac felt a wave of relief hit him as the Exodus Walker gave a nod to him.

“Hola, amigo,” Moriguchi said.

“Hola, Alonso,” Isaac said, “Everything alright?”

“I've been told to retrieve you, from your father,” Moriguchi said.

“Good,” Isaac said, “How is it?”

“A bit more intense,” Moriguchi said, “Not so much, though, amigo. But Lord Rithmound believes that having everyone on the floor and in public will dissuade anyone from attacking us.”

Isaac nodded, noting Moriguchi was once more in his charro.

“You managed to get the blood off of that rather quickly,” he said.

“Of course,” Moriguchi said, “Ket's hiding most of it with his shadow magic. Us guildfolk have to keep up appearances, si?”

“I suppose,” Isaac said, “One moment.”

He turned to the room.

“Buscie, it's all good. It's Alonso, that guild member I was telling you about.”

“Oh!” Busciver came out from under the bed, “Greetings, Alonso.”

“Hola,” Moriguchi said, “Come, let's be off, you two.”

They exited the room, taking down another few halls. Moriguchi looked around.

“Ah,” he said, “I'm afraid I've lost my way.”

“That's alright,” Isaac said, “Lady Busciver lives here. She can guide us back.”

He gave a grin to his love. She grinned back, taking his hand as the two of them took point, walking with purpose to the gala, though she released her grip as they got closer and began to see servants here and there.

“Busy night, eh?” Moriguchi said.

“Indeed,” Isaac said, “Much to do, little time.”

He gave a wink to Buscie, who giggled.

“A busy night indeed, Mr. Rithmound,” Moriguchi said.

“What, no 'Raulito'?” Isaac asked.

And he felt Moriguchi's hand curl around the back of his neck. He glanced to his right and saw the Exodus Walker had done the same to Busciver.

The grip tightened.

“I'm afraid not, Mr. Rithmound,” Moriguchi said. His features began to shimmer and wane, melting and reforming like clay in a master's hand, before he took on the form of another party-goer, that Joseph fellow from the local guild. His hands had become overlarge, near twisting, able to break their necks if need be.

“Walk,” the chameleon said, “Now.”

***

Joseph blinked a bit, cursing himself as he and Rosemary took their places by a nearby pillar to watch Sunala, the Doge, and Lord Rithmound talk to one another. He had drunk perhaps a bit too much – his head was starting to swim.

Across the room, one the second floor, he saw Moriguchi, the two locking eyes before Moriguchi glared at him and went back to swilling his drink.

“I hate that guy,” Joseph said.

“Joseph, none of that,” Rosemary said.

“I'm drunk, and I don't care,” Joseph said, “I hate that guy a lot.”

“I know,” Rosemary said, “Here, let me get another look at your nose.”

He complied, bending down a bit as she inspected it, staring past her and to the Doge. Sunala was keeping them occupied with another casket of wine, and he noted she had ordered a servant to bring out another, a burly troll in a tuxedo hefting it out. The Master of Arms was near the trio, as well, and Joseph noted a few other guards dressed up in gala dresses and suits were edging ever closer to the Doge's party.

“Yeah, we'll definitely want Elenry to take a look at this,” Rosemary said, “Ket really did a number on you.”

“You should see the other guy,” Joseph said.

“That boom I heard?”

“I threw a lightning bolt at him,” Joseph said.

“I thought we were at a gala, not a warzone,” Rosemary said.

“He was the one making the room all shadow-y,” Joseph objected. He let out a sniff and a grunt of pain, “I hate that guy.”

“You told me.”

She gave one last glance.

“Well, it could be worse,” Rosemary said, “He could have shattered it completely. Just looks bent.”

“It's not going to be permanent, is it?” Joseph asked.

“Hopefully not,” Rosemary said, “Let's see what Elenry has to say.”

“I hope not,” Joseph said, “The handsome one of the family, that's what my Nai Nai always used to say. Said it was the only good thing about me, that I was too handsome to be smart.”

“That's nice, Joe,” Rosemary said, “The wine's getting to you, isn't it?”

“...Yeah,” Joseph said, “Sorry. It's been a long night. I hate it here.”

“I do too, Joseph,” Rosemary said, “I do too.”

He straightened back up, looking around for a moment for his glass of wine. His eyes slid upwards as he was looking around.

And he saw himself on the second floor.

“Shit,” he said. The drunkenness drained out of his system as he began stepping forward. Rosemary looked at him with a confused expression, before she followed his gaze. The shapeshifter was looking down on them, a smirk on his face, his hands around the back of Isaac Rithmound and Lady Busciver's necks.

Joseph looked to the Master of Arms as she glared up at the assassin. A few guards were already making their way over.

“Don't,” Joseph whispered. He nodded in the direction of Moriguchi, who had taken notice of his client's son in the hands of the shapeshifter. The Exodus Walker was already making his way over. The shapeshifter, taking notice, was already edging back towards the hallways.

“That is the niece of the Doge in your-” the Master of Arms looked at him.

“Shapeshifter,” Joseph said.

“In the shapeshifter's hands,” the Master of Arms said, “It's my duty-”

“To keep watch over the Doge, not his wards,” Rosemary said, “We'll handle it.”

“Better this way,” Joseph said, “The more people there are, the more confusing it might be. He can transform into any one of us, yeah?”

The Master of Arms did not look convinced.

“We've got a trap for the guy,” Joseph said, “Trust us.”

“I make it my business not to trust,” the Master of Arms said.

The shapeshifter – with his hostages – disappeared behind a door. Moriguchi followed.

“No time, Joe,” Rosemary said. She turned to the Master of Arms, “Just keep a guard posted, we'll let you know when we get him!”

They ran off before the Master of Arms could say another word, near sprinting to one of the staircases, running up it. Nobles shouted in drunken, slow distress as they pushed them to the side. Joseph shoved aside a pair of lords mid-smooch, one of them tumbling down a few steps. His head was hurting too much to apologize.

“Right,” Joseph said as they rounded towards one of the doors into the hall, “Together, right?”

“Right,” Rosemary said, “You take point. I'll stay behind.”

“That's... not together,” Joseph said.

“Wherever the shapeshifter's taking us, he no doubt wants it to be a trap,” Rosemary said, “I'll wait outside in case he tries anything funny. He slipped away before.”

She gripped her mace and a dark, vile smile crept on her face as they wheeled another corner.

“He won't again.”

***

Isaac and Busciver were nearly dragged along by the shapeshifter as he guided them here and there through the halls of the tower, desperately keeping up with his quickened pace as he went down halls randomly, without reason, an increasing sort of panic to his step.

“No, no, no,” he murmured, “No good. Moriguchi's ahead of them-”

He dragged them up to the second floor. By now, his form was beginning to slip and waver, his arms stretching out to keep his hold on the two of them, growing sinewy and trunk-like as they lifted to hold Busciver aloft when she failed to keep up.

“You,” he said to her, “I need a room. A weapons room. A gallery, an armory, it does not matter.”

“I-”

“Tell me!”

“Okay!” she cried out, in a voice that set Isaac's blood to ice, “Okay, it's on the fourth floor, just listen-”

“Good,” the shapeshifter cast a suspicious eye over Isaac's shoulder. His face had become wax-like, losing their features and becoming a pale white, “Good. Come now, Mr. Rithmound. We've quite a bit of running to do yet.”

***

It was an old weapons gallery that Lady Busciver led them to. Set up by the Doge upon his arrival to the city – perhaps a testament to his own days of adventuring throughout the multiverse – it held weapons from across Londoa and beyond. Most of them were medieval, cutlasses taken from eln meia pirates, axes from the orc lands, even a five-meter spear from the Zodian Domin on Terna Minor Landmass. They were arranged on weapon racks, neatly polished every day by the Master of Arms' retinue. Others were set in glass cases, ornamental, glittering things that were more for show than for war. Those were the true trophies of the Doge's collections, prizes won from the kings and queens of Londoa. One of them was even from the High Federation itself, a beam saber, though its focusing crystal had been removed, leaving a pristine shell of a golden hilt, beautiful and empty and somber as a crab's molt.

The room was dark as the shapeshifter threw Busciver and Isaac inside. He lumbered into the center of the room now, having warped and twisted into a larger form, his hand stretching out and feeling the ground for vibrations from below. For a moment, he was quiet.

Then:

“Good, the Amber Foundation got ahead,” he turned to the two of them, “Right, you two. Don't move.”

Isaac glared at him. He walked over and put a protective arm over Buscie. She was letting out racking sobs, clutching her forehead, having bashed it against the floor when the shapeshifter had tossed them down.

The shapeshifter lumbered forward.

“Move, and you die,” he said, “Speak, and I break you. Deal?”

“I'm not afraid of you,” Isaac said.

“The girl, then,” the shapeshifter said, “Do anything, and it falls on her head. Deal?”

There was a dangerous tone to his voice. Isaac had dealt with assassins before. He knew when they bluffed and when they had skin in the game.

And this one was as genuine as a knife. He nodded and kept quiet.

“Good,” he said, “Now, then.”

They could hear footsteps approaching the door. The shapeshifter began transforming again, melting into the floor like snow in the summer, taking on the floor's texture and color. Soon, he was unrecognizable. Isaac couldn't even make him out as he started to move across the floor, slipping beneath the door right as Joseph ran in.

He was followed just a moment later by Moriguchi, who pushed him inside.

***

Joseph felt Moriguchi's arm dig into the back of his neck. The roshador's breath was wine-scented as he spoke.

“Now, hermano,” he said, “Tell me something only you and I would know.”

“The egg was a Dragon's egg,” Joseph grunted.

Moriguchi nodded, standing up and looking at the Lord Rithmound son and the Lady Busciver.

“Are you alright, Raulito?” he asked.

“I-I'm fine,” Isaac Rithmound said, “There's a shapeshifter-”

“We're aware,” Moriguchi said, turning to Joseph, “I presume Rosemary is...?”

“Outside,” Joseph said, “Get ready.”

***

Rosemary waited just down the hall to the room, her sceptre pointed at the floor, its glow the only source of light in the darkened hallway, an orb that shone like the approaching burn of the Inner Sun.

What time was it now? Certainly late into the night. Morning dawned at 4am most days, and it was fast approaching that time, she felt. How time flew by when you were trying to not get your client killed.

He could hear Joseph and Moriguchi inside. A quick scream from the Lady Busciver. Rosemary tensed.

And there, through the door, a subtle apparition scuttling across the floor. She had spotted it before, and even in the half-light of the hall she could spot it now. Rosemary aimed.

And fired.

The beam of light scoured the floor, a deep hiss erupting from the ground. The air became tinged with the smell of burning plastic as she saw the shapeshifter recoil, losing his form and reverting into a pile of goo. It began rearing up, the shock of the sudden burn causing it to spasm and warp. Rosemary pressed the advantage, rushing forward, her sceptre ablaze, as she clubbed the shapeshifter, who buckled from the shot for a moment, before his semi-liquid form began oozing over the sceptre's head.

Rosemary, gritting her teeth, jammed the sceptre further into the shapeshifter's mass. Then fired.

There was a burst of light, the smell of plastic intensifying as the blast rocketed the shapeshifter away. The shapeshifter slam…med against the door, which buckled, sending him splattering across the floor and into the weapons gallery. Joseph and Moriguchi leered down at him.

“Hola,” Moriguchi said.

Joseph pointed a finger, which crackled with electricity.

“...No,” the shapeshifter said, his voice coughing and quiet, “No, not doing this.”

And then he erupted into motion.