Inside, Mazou's holding cell was as simple as most rooms in the shrine. One table. Four chairs, three on this side of the table, one on the other. Mazou sat in the singular seat, her hands resting in clear view. Her spirit cuffs blazed golden against her dark skin, illuminating the Sovereign Binds marring her flesh, black as pitch.

"Hey, Nie," she said softly, all the infectious energy that usually defined her voice notably absent. "Powerful friends you have here."

Friends. Not yet, but perhaps in time.

Kalanie sank into the open chair. Yusuke and Hiei occupied the others, though both men shifted to allow her space as she settled. With slow, deft movements, she splayed her palms against the table's oak surface and recalled her iron, letting the gloves roll back from her fingers. "I've missed you, Maz."

Mazou's gaze settled on her hands, and Kalanie let her stare, let her see that they were the same. Both under his control. Both broken. But maybe not forever.

Then she turned, finding Kurama behind her. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, calculating appraisal turning his eyes sharp. "If this is to work the way you'd like, none of you can interfere. Don't ask questions. Don't speak. Just let us talk."

He tilted his head the barest degree in silent question.

Kalanie took a deep breath. A compulsion rose on her tongue, clogging her throat, but she stamped it down. "Maz is like me now. There are no secrets between his puppets. So let me forget you're here. Let me focus only on her." She dared say no more, as if giving voice to her intentions would trigger the compulsions and lock up her voice before she even began.

A flash of understanding lit in Kurama's eyes. "I see. Yusuke, Hiei, why don't you come stand with Kuwabara and me?" He crooked his lips into a wry smile. "We should give Kalanie and her friend privacy."

Kalanie felt Hiei's gaze searing into her, but she ignored him as she turned back to Maz. She had no doubt he'd worked out her meaning. He was too cunning not to have.

It seemed the same wasn't true of Yusuke. He shoved his chair back from the table, its legs screeching against the floor, and muttered under his breath about riddles and foxes and dumb mind games. Before she could caution him into silence, there was the sound of flesh smacking flesh, a sharp 'shut up, Urameshi,' and his mumbles ceased.

Good.

"Look at me, Maz," she instructed. "Only me. It's just us here, all right?"

Mazou fidgeted. She twined her fingers into knots.

"We'll start simple." Kalanie scooted her chair closer and leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the tabletop. She tried to channel a calm she hardly felt—for Mazou's sake if not her own. "When you contacted me three months ago, were you under his control? Was your proposition ever real?"

Mazou's eyelids fluttered shut. "I thought so. I hadn't realized…"

"Breathe, Maz. I know how foggy you feel. That fades. The longer you're away, the more your memories will come back to you." If she didn't know better, she would have reached for Mazou's hand. Small though the comfort might be, it was all she could offer. But it wasn't an option. She didn't know what compulsions ruled Mazou, and she couldn't risk awakening one.

"I didn't know who he was, Nie. He found me. In Demon World." Mazou's eyes cracked open. "In our village, actually. I was visiting old Sekou. He'd wanted to hear stories of Human World but hadn't the energy to travel here himself. So I'm sitting there with him, and there's a knock on the door, and Sekou opens it to this… man. Dressed like some pampered human. Slacks. Creaseless tunic. Sekou was practically drooling over him. Next moment, he's invited himself in and proposed a job. A heist in Gandara."

Mazou worried her lip. "He wanted me to get his team in, but he said my teleportation wouldn't be enough on its own. The vault was sealed with some sort of ward. And I… I didn't know, Nie. I had no idea who he was—what he was. And I thought of you."

Kalanie remained perfectly still. She forced each fresh breath to remain steady. Even. In and out. Panic clawed at her edges, drawing ever closer, but she couldn't let it in. She wouldn't.

"So I told him what you could do. He didn't want to split the treasure further. He claimed he was already stretching it too thin across his team, but he thought he might have another way to pay you."

A sick, twisted nausea rose in Kalanie's gut. The lengths he had gone to. The sheer effort he'd poured into his need to control her—to own her.

"He told you he had a way to get my brother back," she said softly. It wasn't a question. She already knew the truth.

"I didn't realize you'd been separated," Mazou whispered. She was staring at her hands, the spirit cuffs reflected in her glassy eyes. "I hadn't seen you in years, but I knew you wouldn't have let that happen. You wouldn't have left him for anything. So I promised to find you, to bring you in on the deal.

"Only you didn't react like I'd expected. You were like a skittish animal. Hardly recognizable—and not just because I don't think you'd eaten for weeks." Her eyes darted upward, just for a second, and she added, "I still don't think you're eating enough."

"Maz," Kalanie growled in warning.

"Right. Sorry. I went back to Demon World a week later to find him. He'd told me to meet him at the Wailing Waters, and I didn't think… I knew what that place had become. We'd all been hearing stories, but I showed up anyway, like some idiot human dithering straight into a trap."

Mazou's hands curled into fists atop the table. "His minions attacked me. Pinned me down. When he spoke, I couldn't move, couldn't even think. Then these marks appeared, and he forbade me to teleport and…"

And then she was his.

"He was so angry, Nie. So incredibly angry. I think he'd expected me to bring you in, and I know he'd expected me to come back more quickly. His minions beat me for hours. Then he locked me away. For weeks. Until last night." She was sobbing now, her forehead pressed to her fists, her shoulders rocking with a pain Kalanie knew all too well.

She could piece together the rest. He'd have freed her for the meeting. Ordered her to act normal. Pretend nothing was wrong. Then bring Kalanie in. And she had guesses about the rest. Why he hadn't come himself. Why he'd waited so long if he knew where she was. But she wasn't ready to face those.

Not yet.

"I tried to warn you," Mazou said through her strangled sobs.

Breathe. In and out. In and out. "By using my full name?"

Mazou nodded. "And you wouldn't say—" A compulsion seized her, stoppering her tongue, and she struggled past it. "Your brother. He wouldn't let me say his name. And I thought maybe he'd done that to you, too."

"He did."

"Why?"

Kalanie licked her dry lips, locked her focus on the grain of the table's surface. "Because it made him angry. That I woke dreaming of my brother and not of him."

Her sobs quieting, Mazou sat up and shoved back her curls. Tears still shone in her eyes, but she swiped them away. "But why forbid me?"

"So that I wouldn't hear his name. To keep him from me in yet another way." She thought of Hiei reading Nomi's name from that notepad days ago, of the joy it had brought her, however fleeting. "It's just another means to break me."

"How did you survive it, Nie?"

Dully, in some distant part of her mind, she knew the detectives were still there. Listening. Watching her cut out whatever remained of her heart and splay her soul across this table. These private, personal hells she'd never meant for anyone to see.

But Mazou had lived them, too. Because of Kalanie. Because of his obsession with her.

And so she would bear these truths for Mazou to see, so that Maz would know she wasn't alone. Not in this.

"I didn't," she whispered. Then more loudly, "At a certain point, I just stopped. Living. Existing. My body did things, felt things, but I didn't. I retreated until there was nothing left. My body was not mine. My mind was not mine. I think that's what it means to be truly dead. To no longer exist in these worlds."

"But you escaped."

"Yes. And no." Kalanie bit her inner cheek, letting the stinging pain ground her. "I'll never be truly free until his marks are gone from my hands. Even then, I think there are some chains that can never be broken. Not fully."

Movement at her back nearly broke her focus on Mazou, but she forced it away, refusing to acknowledge the sudden spike in Hiei's energy.

"I don't feel it now," Mazou said after a beat. "The urge to bring you to him. It's like the compulsion is gone. Why?" The question was so desperate, so utterly terrified, as if some pivotal part of her rested on its answer.

Kalanie knew that fear all to well. The constant wondering. Which choices were her own? Which were the ones he'd instilled in her? Was there even a line that could be drawn? But Mazou didn't need those questions. She needed answers—something to hold her pieces together, at least for a time.

"If I had to guess, it's because of the spirit cuffs." Kalanie nodded at the golden energy encircling Mazou's wrists. "Without your power, you can't teleport me. It's impossible. So there's nothing for the compulsion to command. Not as long as you're wearing those cuffs."

"Then I'll wear them forever." Mazou's features twisted, her lips pressing thin, her eyes narrowing to flinty slits—grim in a way Kalanie had never seen them. "To make up for this betrayal, I will wear them always."

"You won't need to."

"What?"

Kalanie flexed her hands, watched the Sovereign Binds ripple across her skin, the links around her wrists stretching and curling. "This has been a game for him. One of cat and mouse. For weeks, he's been batting me between his paws, readying to pounce—and I never realized it. But it can't be long now. He… does not like to wait. It's not something he's accustomed to."

That distant, detached corner of her mind knew she'd need to broach this with the detectives. The threat she posed was greater than even she had imagined. But now was not the time for that talk.

"Then we'll fight him." Mazou reached across the table, but Kalanie snatched her hands back, safely out of contact. "Oh..."

"A precaution, Maz. That's all."

She nodded, but the hurt didn't leave her eyes.

"Did you learn anything?" Kalanie asked when the silence grew to be too much. "About their operations. About who leads Project Shell. I never saw beyond him. He was always careful of that. But perhaps he was less cautious with you?"

"He kept me locked away. For weeks."

Kalanie sighed. Of course. It had been a foolish hope. A pipe dream—

"But maybe…" Mazou straightened. A feverish light took hold in her eyes. "The last day, just before he sent me to you, he'd summoned me from my prison. He was giving me orders. All these careful rules I must follow. But we were interrupted and he went into the corridor. The door stayed open a crack, and I heard… I don't know what. Just snippets. Something about a move. A temporary shutdown. Two weeks from now."

Kalanie's heart skipped a beat.

A fractured memory drifted back to her. Recalling it was like viewing someone through foggy glass, the recollection warped and twisted up on itself. She clung to it, polishing its filmy surface until it began to make sense.

Keeping her gaze locked on Mazou, she said, "I heard something like that, too. Six months ago. He'd been talking to one of Project Shell's engineers. I think he thought I was asleep. They said the Shell was going to need to be taken offline, transported somewhere new. In six months."

"Now," Mazou said. "Just like I overhead."

Kalanie nodded.

"But why? Won't that bring back the barrier?"

"Because—" Nomi's name closed Kalanie's throat. She started again. "Because my brother needs more iron. At the rate he was using it, the mines were going to run out."

"I don't get it."

Kalanie clung to her focus, refusing to let her gaze drift from Mazou's face, refusing to think of anything but her friend. "He's the Shell. They pump him with iron, stoke his power to its greatest heights, then suck it from his body. It's used to power something else. Some sort of interference machine that disables the barrier." A compulsion was clawing at her now, shredding her apart as her thoughts flicked to the detectives, praying they understood, that Kurama understood. "The worlds will close off while they move him. Their forces will probably be concentrated, all in one place. It would be a chance to strike. An opportunity to—"

Air whooshed from her lungs, so sudden and violent that it doubled her over.

The compulsion had won.

Kurama was at her side in an instant. Rubbing a comforting hand over her back. Telling her to breathe. Yusuke and Kuwabara hovered awkwardly behind him, and Yusuke offered one uncertain pat of her head before seeming to decide better of it and shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

Desperate, she choked down air. Darkness flickered at the edges of her vision, and her throat ached as though it were full of fractured glass.

"You did it, Kalanie." Kurama sank onto the chair beside hers. With an elegant finger, he raised her chin, brought her eyes level with his. "This is the lead we needed."

She tried to acknowledge him, to say something—anything—but her voice wouldn't come. She settled for a jerky nod.

His soft smile flitted to his lips.

"Nie?"

She glanced at Mazou.

Tears had gathered in the demon's eyes once more, but she sat straight in her chair, her shoulders back, her chin high. "I'm sorry. For all of this."

"Not…" Kalanie coughed wretchedly. "Not your fault."

"I'm still sorry."

With a gentle hand on her elbow, Kurama guided Kalanie to her feet. "Come. We should get you water. Or tea. Something to ease your throat. Kuwabara, would you see Mazou gets the same?"

The human lurched into motion. "Sure thing."

As he disappeared into the hall, Kurama turned his focus to the other detectives. "Hiei, help Kalanie, would you? Yusuke, find Genkai, then summon everyone. We'll need to fill them in. Come up with a plan. We only have two weeks."

"On it," Yusuke said, firing off a salute and swaggering out of the room. No sooner had he crossed the threshold than he raised his voice in a shout. "Oy, Grandma! Where the hell are you?"

Hiei was slower to react. Glaring his displeasure at Kurama, he took hold of Kalanie's elbow and propelled her to the door. His grip blazed against her skin, smoldering like coals. As they left Mazou's holding cell behind, Yusuke's shouts preceded them through the temple, echoing down the corridors in time to his stomping footsteps.

Kalanie wished she had the strength to move on her own, to shake free of Hiei and leave him in her dust, but she could hardly walk without leaning into him, and by the time they'd crossed back into the shrine's proper halls, she sagged into his muscled frame entirely. With an annoyed growl, he looped an arm about her waist.

As they turned the corner toward her room, Botan hurried past, muttering, "Oh, Yusuke. Stop yelling, would you?" At the sight of them, she stumbled to a halt and loosed a surprised sort of squawk.

Hiei spat a curse in answer, but Kalanie only dipped her head. Embarrassment scorched like flames in her cheeks. How weak she must seem. To Botan. And worse still, to the fire demon himself.

They reached her door, and she attempted to pull away. Surely she could manage this. It was little more than ten steps to the corner where she slept. That she could do. Then she could lose herself to the pain, to the exhaustion.

Fighting her compulsions—tricking them for so long—had been more draining than she could have possibly imagined.

Hiei's grip tightened, keeping her pressed against his side. Her shirt had ridden up, and his fingers burned like brands against her hip. "Don't be a fool," he growled. "Falling on your face will prove far more pathetic than needing assistance now."

A snarl tore from her throat, awakening a fresh spike of pain, but she stopped fighting. He guided her to the bed and pushed her to the mattress with firm hands.

"No."

She tried to stand, to head for her blankets bundled in the corner, but Hiei shoved her back down.

His hand curled around her shoulder, his thumb pressing against the column of his throat. She felt every millimeter of his skin against hers. The rough, calloused pads of his fingers. The flaming heat of his palm. "If you don't want to be his dog, don't act like one. Don't sleep on the floor like some mutt in a kennel."

This time, she stayed seated as he crossed to her blankets and scooped the lot from the floor. Her every breath still wheezed past her lips, and a fresh bout of coughs seized her as Hiei unfurled her wrinkled sheets and spread them across the mattress

"Get in the damn bed, woman."

She obeyed, scooting backward until she met the wall.

"Hn, stay. I'll be back." His cloak rustled as he left, his footsteps as silent as ever.

Drawing her knees into her chest, she focused on her breathing. It steadied slowly, growing easier with each expansion of her lungs.

Everything Mazou had revealed swirled through her mind. His twisted machinations were enough to make her sick. She couldn't think long on them now. She didn't have the will to stave off the panic those thoughts would bring with them.

Instead, she focused on Nomi. They'd be moving him. Soon. That was a window, a chance to get him back. She wasn't sure what the detectives would be planning. No doubt they wanted to use this opportunity to put an end to him and his kind. Maybe there'd be room in that plan for Nomi.

There had to be.

She didn't realize Hiei had returned until the bed dipped beneath his weight. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his steady gaze.

He'd leaned a knee into the mattress. Cradled in his hands waited a cup of tea, steam rising gently from its surface. "Take it."

She did. The cup was warm between her palms.

The mattress rose as he straightened and moved to the window. "I didn't get it so you could stare. Drink."

Tentatively, she raised the glass to her lips. Through the steam rising into her eyes, she saw that he'd closed the door. The tea was sweeter than she expected, but it took her a moment to place the taste of the honey he must have added. "Thank you."

He didn't look at her. "I'm in no mood for one of the fox's lectures. Thank him."

She managed a laugh, quiet and weak though it was.

"What?" he snapped.

"Nothing. Or, well, that's not true." She sipped her tea again. "It's just… You keep surprising me. You are precisely what the stories say you are, Hiei Jaganshi, and yet at the same time, you are nothing like them."

"Hn. It seems exhaustion has turned you to a fool."

"No, I don't think it has."

A growl rumbled from his chest. In the space of a single blink, he darted to the door. "Sleep. When you wake, Kurama and Genkai will have devised a plan."

She drained the last of the tea, then crawled to the bed's edge and set the cup on the floor. Slumping against the pillows, she stared up at the ceiling. "It needs to include a way to save him."

"Nomi?"

A bubbling thrill ran through her. With it came a sense of peace, a feeling of coming home—just as it had the first time.

"Yes." Her eyelids fluttered closed. Sleep wasn't far. "Make sure it does. On my behalf."

"Hn."

Then he was gone.

When sleep claimed her, she dreamed of Nomi.

AN: I was surprised (in the best of ways) by how heartbroken you all were last chapter. I had hoped Kalanie had become sympathetic and relatable, but I hadn't dreamed I'd accomplished it as well as last chapter seems to indicate. That was wonderful. With any luck, you'll enjoy this one just as much! I'd love to hear what you think.

As always, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed!