Author's Note: The amount of reviews this fic gets still leaves me gaping. Thank you so much to everyone who reads, and a double thank you to those who review! Now, for this chapter, the plot actually starts unwinding. Well. Part of it. Kind of, sort of. …It's plot and it's there. Can I possibly distract you all with cookies?

Disclaimer: Still don't own Fire Emblem. Sigh.

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Something Wicked

Chapter 17

Amethyst Bubble

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The chalk clinked against the ground as Wil knotted his hands in his short hair.

"I can't draw tonight!" he exclaimed, releasing his hair and running his hands over the failed chalk circle. It was quickly smudged beyond recognition and Wil wiped his hands on his pants, smearing them with chalk dust. "I've got artist's block! Magic artist's block!"

"Happens to everyone… probably," Rath murmured, resting a hand on Wil's shoulder. "It'll pass…"

Wil smiled in spite of his frustrations. "Yeah, maybe. I don't know, I just can't help thinking there's something behind it. I didn't tell you earlier, but I had this dream, when I got kidnapped. It was really weird-- I had all these tattoos, like full-body ones and there was a disembodied voice and mirrors and people with clocks for faces. Or maybe they were clocks with people for bodies. Either way…" Wil trailed off, shrugging. "It was just really weird."

Rath was silent for a moment, a contemplative look on his face. "I don't know about the rest of it," he began, "but the tattoos… I might be able to interpret those."

"Really?" Wil sat up straighter.

"Maybe," Rath looked away. "What were the tattoos in the design of?"

"It was pretty weird," Wil launched into his explanation. "Like I said, they were all over. My arms, my legs, my face… and on one side there were vines, and on the other there was these weird swirly patterns… make any sense?"

"Maybe," Rath nodded slightly. "…You said there were vines?"

Wil blinked, the pieces falling into place. "If you're saying what I think you're saying… Then that's kind of creepy."

"Magic is a living thing," Rath stated. "It… has a mind a mind of its own. If it wants your attention, then it will get it… one way or another. It's a powerful force of nature… it won't tolerate being ignored." He held up a hand as Wil opened his mouth, signaling that he wasn't finished just yet. "Even if you don't mean… or don't know that you're ignoring it. And with two elements…"

"That doesn't sound good," Wil muttered, drumming his fingers against the wooden floor. "So, uh, what do I do about it? Or does it just keep invading my dreams forever?"

"No," Rath shook his head. He crossed his arms over his chest, a thoughtful look in his eyes. "It should fade as you gain better control of your magic." He paused, "Until then… let's try meditation again."

---

The conversation between them had faded into silence minutes ago. Heath stared blankly at the streetlight across from him, occasionally sneaking a glance at Legault out of the corner of his eye. The other man appeared to be thinking, his eyebrows knit together in concentration. Finally, after what seemed like a far longer time than it had actually been, he shifted, drawing a small glass vial out of his pocket.

"Here," he handed it to Heath. "I think you should see this."

Heath obliged, holding the vial up to the light. He squinted at the red liquid inside, frowning. "Legault--"

"Yeah," Legault interrupted, nodding sharply. "That's blood. Sheep's blood, to be precise."

Heath stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to work something out. "Why, exactly, did you just give me sheep's blood? What are you even doing with sheep's blood?"

"I found it at the magical black market," Legault replied, a steely look in his eyes. "It's not the blood, not exactly. It's what it was being sold as."

Heath heaved a long sigh, tilting his head back to look at the darkening sky. He placed the vial down on the steps, twisting his hands together. "Let me guess," he said quietly. "It was being sold as Fae blood."

"You've got it," Legault replied.

Heath was silent for a moment. "I see…" he murmured, raking a hand through his hair. Legault watched him, waiting for him to continue. When Heath didn't, Legault leaned back a bit, smiling wryly.

"If I'm not mistaken, my dear, that was meant to be your blood on the market, wasn't it?" he said, taking note when Heath's posture stiffened.

Heath fidgeted slightly, tapping one foot against the ground anxiously. He began to reach for the vial of blood, but abruptly stopped, pulling his hand back as if he'd been bitten. "Yeah," he muttered. "Well, yes and no."

Legault raised on eyebrow. "I'd ask how it could be both, but I suspect there's a long story there."

"Not so much long…" Heath trailed off, shaking his head. "We were meant to be witch hunters, actually. It was perfect; we could see their magic. We could just pick them out of crowds, off the street… It was the obvious choice."

"We, hmm?" Legault raised his eyebrows.

"Me and three others," Heath clarified, meeting Legault's gaze. "They were also part-Fae, like me, but… I don't know, I think they were all half, at least. My Fae heritage is pretty watered down in comparison."

Legault nodded, a small grin forming on his features. "Would you hit me if I said I was glad?"

Heath rolled his eyes but couldn't help but grin back. "Legault, if I didn't hit you for giving my sheep's blood, I'd say you're safe."

"Lucky me," Legault commented, the grin melting into his usual smirk.

"Lucky you," Heath said, pulling one knee up to his chest. "By the way," he said abruptly, "this black market, the one where you got the blood? You're taking me there."

"Am I?" Legault's smirk widened. "It's no walk in the park, just so you know. It's a dangerous place."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a place selling Fae blood," Heath replied casually, giving Legault a long look.

"No, neither would I," the other man agreed. "Tomorrow, then?" he gave Heath an appraising look.

"Tomorrow," Heath said firmly.

---

Vaida kept a list of the people she hated most at the back of her mind. At the moment, Sonia was most definitely in first place.

Catching Vaida's glance, Sonia's red lips parted in a smile, looking, in Vaida's opinion, much like a nicely made-over crocodile.

"I believe we've mostly settled things here," Sonia spoke, rising gracefully to her feet. Her shoes made a clicking noise on the floor as she slowly slunk towards the door. Jaffar reappeared from the shadows and followed at her heels. Vaida noted the dagger at his waist. He probably had a few hidden weapons, she figured, and eyed the distance between herself and the drawer where the knives were kept. Just in case, she told herself, ignoring the itch to reach out and grab a sharp object.

"I trust this will all be settled in a timely manner?" Sonia's smooth voice, containing just a hint of an underlying threat, broke Vaida out of her thoughts. Eubans was already nodding and agreeing, saying that, yes, it would all be wrapped up in no time at all. Sonia's smile widened.

"Good. I hope my next visit will be under pleasanter circumstances," she said, adding, "This place stinks of failure." Abruptly, she left, Jaffar shutting the door behind her.

Eubans immediately collapsed into a chair, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

"We'll get this all wrapped up, will we?" Vaida turned to him, annoyance creeping into her tone. "And, how, exactly, will we be doing that?" The faint urge to beat him into unconsciousness with something blunt and heavy crept up on her. She remembered the folding chair and quite nearly grinned. Well, Heath had always had some fine ideas. Not that she'd ever tell him.

She glanced at Eubans again, barely listening to his disgruntled grumbling. With things as they were, she nearly hoped she never got the opportunity to.

Things had gone very wrong and the whole plan, in her opinion, could not be farther off the tracks.

---

To Nils' delight, the programs on evening television were much more enjoyable than the ones on in the daytime. He'd been channel surfing for nearly an hour and had not stumbled upon one talk show yet.

Ninian, seated in an armchair, crossed and uncrossed her legs and she scribbled something down on a notebook. Nils glanced over at her and wondered, not for the first time that night, what was wrong. Something had to be, if she was letting him stay up and watch TV without so much as a single complaint.

"Ninian?" he said, raising himself up on his elbows. He tore his eyes away from the television screen and fixed his glance on his sister. "Ninian?" he repeated.

"Yes?" she finally murmured, her gaze glued to her paper.

"What are you writing?" Nils propped his chin up on his palms, watching his sister's hand as it flowed across the paper.

Ninian's hand stilled and she finally looked up, her red eyes meeting her brother's. "Oh… it's not really anything. I've just had something stuck in my head since earlier today. It's probably nothing important, but I figure I might as well write it down. You remember what Pent told us, don't you?"

"Yeah," Nils sighed. "'You never know when things might be significant' and so on… for once, can't we just have a normal vacation, Ninian?"

She smiled slightly and shook her head, brushing a few long locks of her hair behind her ear. "I wouldn't necessarily call this a vacation, Nils. It's a little bit more like… Oh, I don't know. Hiding? Something like that."

"Fine, look at it that way. I prefer to see the glass half full. And that half-full glass comes with a side of cable," he gestured to the TV. "Don't you want to watch anything, Ninian? They're playing Bewitched." He grinned at his sister, knowing she couldn't resist that offer.

She hesitated and he waved the remote teasingly in front of her. Finally, her smile widened and she set the paper down on countertop, walking over to sit cross-legged on the bed. "What episode is it?" she asked.

"The one where Darrin thinks Aunt Clara turned herself into a cow," Nils replied, settling back down into a comfortable position.

---

There he was again, in that cold, foggy place, filled with disembodied voices and concrete and mirrors. He glanced at his, alarmed when he found that the tattoos actually seemed to be moving. They swayed to a wind that wasn't there.

"You see only what you wish to."

Wil's eyes snapped open and he took a moment to slow his breathing back to normal. He raised a slightly shaky hand to wipe away the cold sweat on his forehead, making a face as he brushed his damp bangs aside.

"Again?" Rath asked, concern written on his face.

"Yeah," Wil nodded, smiling sheepishly. "But it was shorter this time. I can try again!"

Rath hesitated, looking Wil over. "Still… perhaps we should stop for the night… you look shaken."

"I'm not!" Wil protested, shaking his head emphatically. "There weren't even any clock-faced people this time! See, it's getting better! Maybe this time I can get rid of the disembodied voice! Though, uh, the tattoos are moving now and it's creepy. But it's still getting better!"

Rath didn't look particularly convinced. "Wil, we can continue tomorrow."

Slowly, Wil climbed to his feet, wincing as he stretched stiff muscles. "Think I'm actually getting a better handle of my magic?" he asked Rath, rolling his shoulders back.

"You've definitely improved," Rath's smile was tiny, but it was there and that fact alone made Wil grin.

---

Matthew looked up as the streetlights along the water flickered to life. He turned back to Guy, wondering whether or not he should disturb the younger man when he seemed so deep in concentration. Well, it had never stopped him before, so why start now?

Guy's eyes were closed, his hands resting on the wooden rail that separated him from the river. He was concentrating with all his might on the water and didn't hear Matthew's approaching footsteps. When he was tapped on the shoulder, his concentration shattered and his eyes flew open. With a rather undignified squeak, he nearly toppled forward. Matthew caught the back of his shirt and dragged him back, away from the water's edge.

"D-don't do that," Guy hissed, balling his hands into fists. Matthew ignored his furious expression and, with his usual rogue grin, pointed up at the streetlights.

"It's getting dark," he said. "We should probably head back."

Guy exhaled slowly, taking a look at his surroundings and at the darkening sky. "I guess so…" he finally said. "Still, next time, can't you just s-say something? Quietly?"

"Huh. I guess I could try that." Matthew's feigned innocence was purposefully bad and his eyes danced while Guy's own narrowed. "Anyway, how goes the practice? Think you've got the hang of it now?"

Guy blinked at the sudden switch in topics. "Err, sort of? It's not going badly, not really-- and, hey, wait for me!"

Matthew snickered as Guy caught up. "Not going badly, huh? That doesn't mean it's going well."

Guy huffed, rolling his eyes as he fell into stride with Matthew. "It's n-not easy! I'm not complaining, it could be a lot worse. But…" he trailed off, frowning slightly.

"But?" Matthew repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"It's hard to concentrate here…" Guy's frown deepened.

Matthew hummed slightly, placing a hand on Guy's shoulder. "Well, there aren't so many places you can practice around here. A few large, but unfortunately public bodies of water, or a sink."

"Is it bad that the sink s-sounds tempting?" Guy muttered under his breath.

"Probably," Matthew chuckled. Guy shot him a nasty look and he held up a hand. "Don't glare at me like that! It's pretty funny. For me, anyway."

"Not for me!" Guy whined, kicking a small stone out of his path. "You're lucky… you can use anything that casts a shadow. I need water, preferably running." He sighed, brushing his bangs away from his eyes.

"Like you said, could be worse," Matthew told him. Then, in the distance, something caught his eye. "Hey… is that what I think it is?" A grin slowly crept onto his face.

"What?" Guy raised an eyebrow. He followed Matthew's gaze, searching for what the other man was grinning at. "No, really, what?" he said again when he couldn't spot it.

"Just an old hangout," Matthew said, a certain light in his eye. Guy gave him an odd look.

---

"Am I correct in assuming that you've never been to the magical black market?" Legault asked as they walked back up the rickety stairs to their room. Heath nodded in reply. "Basically, just stick close to me. It's not exactly a pleasant place, as I'm sure you've guessed."

"Common sense says as much," Heath said with a nervous smile.

"Don't say anything about the Fae," Legault instructed as they reached their room.

Heath rolled his eyes, smacking Legault on the shoulder as he shut the door behind him. "I'm not an idiot, you know."

Legault smirked slightly, "I feel like I have to say it anyway."

"Well, don't," Heath sat down on the edge of the bed, stretching slightly. "It's been a really long day. And, hey, where'd Nino go?" He cast a cautionary glance around the room, just in case the green-haired girl was lying in wait. He briefly thought about looking under the bed, but dismissed idea as being overly paranoid.

"I think she's with one of her friends," Legault shrugged, though Heath noticed he too took a close look at all the shadowy corners.

"So…" Heath began as Legault sat down next to him. "Anything else I should know about the market, or will I just find out tomorrow?"

"I'd tell you not to make eye contact with anyone who looks suspicious, but you lived in New York City, so I suspect you already know that," Legault's smirk widened slightly. "It'll be fine. If we can find it, that is."

"If?" Heath raised an eyebrow.

Legault reached forward to brush that one lock of white hair away from Heath's face. "They were in the process of shutting down when I found them," he explained. "They move quiet frequently, something that doubtlessly has something to do with the status of their merchandise. I have no idea where they might be now."

The look Heath gave him was less than impressed. "Will you be able to find them?" he asked, frowning slightly when an uncertain expression passed over Legault's face. "Please, Legault. Even if what they were selling wasn't really Fae blood…"

"No, I understand. I should be able to find them again. They always leave a trail, if you know how to look." He leaned forward slightly and held Heath's gaze with his own.

"Thanks," Heath smiled, relief evident in his voice. "I'm not even going to ask how you know that. I owe you."

"I debt, my dear Heath, that I believe you'll be able to pay off," Legault winked.

---

Farina really hated feeling guilty. Guilty, unfortunately, was what Farina was currently feeling. She tried to squash the emotion down to the pit of her stomach, but it just wouldn't stay. She sighed, discontent, and rolled her chair back. Absentmindedly, she tapped her heel against the floor. She wished that vampire woman would stop in again, if only so she'd have something to distract herself with. The risk of being drained dry still existed there, but at least the danger bred excitement.

Excitement, Farina had found, was a much better feeling than guilt.

Suddenly, a book fell off her rather bare shelf. Farina blinked. "That was weird…" she stood and picked the book up, turning it over in her hands.

Another book fell, followed quickly by the pen and notebook she kept on the nightstand. Farina frowned, her hands on her hips. This was getting annoying.

Then it clicked in her mind and she grinned. Well, this was certainly much more interesting than guilt.

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Chapter 17-- End

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This is so much shorter than I planned, and written must faster than I had hoped to, but I'm going out of state for one of mom's book-signings tomorrow and I should really go pack. I wish I could expand on this a little more, but, hey, more stuff for chapter 18 then, right? Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter! There should be an update on The Musical Project soon. I'm going to start working on finishing it when I get back home. Anyway, reviews are much appreciated, as always!