"Time. I hate time. Counting away the seconds of my life. Making irreversible things I wish had not been done. Never giving me long enough to do what I need to do. And clocks! They're the eyes of the God of Time, you know! He watches us! Watches us all! The watches are how he watches us! No, I don't need to take my potions! Yes, I know I'm meant to take them every three hours, but that's just how Father Time tries to control me!"

Elias of North Wich


...


The forces of alleged darkness crept through the night. For once they were not minions, at least with regards to their species. They were instead Magdalene's generally rather pathetic cultists.

The difference was easy to tell. Not only were they taller, more female, and rather better-smelling, but also if they had been minions they wouldn't have been having so many problems with their current task. Gathered around the glass fronting of a high-class alchemy shop just outside the university grounds, they were faced with a quite pressing conundrum.

"Look, we just smash the glass with magic, grab the potions and run. On a count of three! One, two… what is it, Elizabet?"

"Well, I'm not sure it's necessarily right for us to break some alchemist's window."

"We are a dark cult, though. I don't believe we should be doing right things."

"That is true. But there's a difference between being evil and being ill-mannered and I'm afraid that perhaps breaking the window might be the latter."

The issue was considered.

"Perhaps we could try throwing snowballs at the upstairs windows and see if anyone is in who can open up? Then we can pay them for the potions," Elizabet suggested brightly.

"Why, that sounds like a jolly good idea!"

Jacqueline strode up, candlestick propped on one shoulder. "What seems to be the matter here?" she asked.

The others looked nervous. Jacqueline had refused to put down the ornament, and had indeed dipped it in holy water when they went and, ahem, 'borrowed' some relics from the church to 'keep them safe' on Magdalene's grouchy instructions. None of them wanted to suffer Marie's fate of being clubbed unconscious and tied up in a storeroom. "Well, we're not sure if we really should be breaking people's windows so we can steal their potions. It's a bit uncouth."

"I see," Jacqueline said, hefting the heavy silver candlestick and taking in the expensive glass window thoughtfully. "You know, I've always wanted to break one of these windows. You know, the feeling when you're walking down the street and you say to yourself, 'I wonder how it sounds'. Or is that just me?"

"At the very least shouldn't we be using magic on the lock or som-" Elizabet trailed off as Jacqueline stepped up to the window with the posture and attitude of a batter. "Well, I hope we leave an IOU."

"No, no," Jacqueline said, a quiet smile on her face and her eyes alight with the fires of someone deeply regretting she hadn't spent her later teenage years committing socially acceptable violence through the medium of wandering heroism. "No IOUs. Monsieur Candlestick says so!"


...


This time when Louise opened her eyes, there was a ceiling above her. In addition, she was lying on cushions. This made it approximately six hundred thousand times better than the last time she had woken up, which had been less than an hour ago and had involved snow.

"I have to work harder at staying conscious," Louise whispered. There was a funny alchemical taste in her mouth.

"No, really?" Magdalene's voice intruded on her reverie and Louise twisted her head to look at the cult priestess who looked rather irked at the world in general and Louise specifically. Perhaps the fact she was bandaged up had something to do with that. "Most people don't have to vow that to myself."

"Are you hurt?" Louise asked softly, stomach churning with guilt. "Because I'll never forgive myself if it happened because of me. I'm so, so sorry."

"Well, now you've gone and taken all the fun out of it. Yes, for your information, I was stabbed in the back by someone stupid enough to trust Baelogji's promises," Magdalene said, pouting. "But that dang pre-emptive apology has ruined everything. Oh, and I'm having a baby."

"I know," Louise said warily.

"I mean right now. This moment. It's still in the early stages, but it hurts."

"Oh. Oh! Um… congratulations?" Louise tried.

That didn't seem to work. "Honestly, I've been stabbed before, but this is the first time giving birth. Right now it's just painful – ah! – contractions, but from all reports it's going to get worse," Magdalene said morbidly. "If this is normal, I can see why some woman prefer to go around fighting orcs and demons rather than settling down and starting a family."

Louise propped herself up on her elbows, peeling back her… wait, this wasn't her dress. Why was she wearing a white dress?

"Your clothes were a complete mess when you stumbled in," Magdalene contributed. "Dragging Françoise-Athenais with you. Who did not respond, I might note, even when Jacqueline hit her with her candlestick. I believe we have found an unexpected side of Jacqueline. I suspect she's going to make that candlestick a family heirloom, and it's certainly been a formative experience for her children." She paused, staring at Louise. "Are you feeling well?" she asked.

"Oh, very well indeed! I mean, yes, I am more than a little annoyed at Eleanore, but I am going to resolve that," Louise said. "Thank the other ladies for me - they seem to have done an excellent job healing me."

Strangely, that didn't seem to be the answer that Magdalene was looking for. Her stare turned into a dubious squint. "Are you sure?" she tried.

Louise had no idea what she was looking for, but there wasn't time to waste. "Where is Montespan?" she asked.

Magdalene gestured over to the other side of the room. Françoise-Athenais had been dumped there, a prominent and vaguely candlestick-shaped bruise on her brow. "What the heck happened?"

Louise considered. Louise explained. Then Louise clarified that no, she was not joking.


...


Three minions slouched through the pathways of the university behind a vampire, looking for someone who wasn't their overlady. There was dissent in the ranks, mostly about the fact that they were short.

"But I no see why you can no turn into a giant wolfie and carry us," Scyl whined, chasing behind the others. "My legs is cold."

"I no are as annoying as Scyl, but I are pretty cold," Maxy agreed. He looked around nervously. "Plus, snow are just water what are pretending to be solid but can melt any second and then wham! You is drowning."

Cattleya stalked ahead of them. Unlike the minions, she was not striding through the snow. Instead, she walked on top of it, leaving no footprints. "Because I'll tear my dress if I turn into a giant wolf and I don't trust you not to steal it if I take it off," she said, not slowing down.

"That are true," Scyl conceded. "I no mind being a girl minion again. Fettid are enjoying it."

"Anyway, it's not proper for me to be unclad before gentlemen like yourself," she added. "Even if you are adorable, there are standards."

"Fair," Maxy said. "I is a famed para moor. The ladies just go all gooey and oogly at the knees when I break out the poems what are romantic and all."

Maggat thumped him over the head with his club. "No poems!"

"Oooh!" Cattleya said before Maxy could try to hit him back. "I think this is the theology building." She looked at the ruined structure and the giant dead angel foetus lying in the rubble. "Was the theology building, rather. Hmm. I do rather wonder how an angel would taste? It'd either taste scrumptious and delicious, or agonisingly painful and burning."

"Well, there are a dead one there," Scyl said, pointing.

Cattleya wrinkled her nose. "Drink the blood from a corpse, getting only teeny-weeny bits of stagnant trapped life?" she asked haughtily. "No, thank you. I'm not some ghoul." She glanced around. "Where did you say the other minions were? The ones who will remain loyal to Louise?"

"Well, Char are a pancake in those stone slabs, and Fettid are under the giant dead baby angel," Maggat said.

"Well, I'll have them out in a jiffy!" Cattleya said brightly.

"Urgh," Fettid said, once she had been dragged out and brought back to life. "I was dead for ages. Why you be so slow, Scyl? I oughta stab you for that!"

Maggat caught her wrist. "No stabbing Scyl," he ordered. "Everyone else are okay, but not Scyl. We only got one blue now."

Char screamed. "No! No no no!"

"What are the problem?"

"My musket! It are as flat as I was!"

Maxy squeezed his shoulder sympathetically. "I write a sad poem about it," he said.

"It no help. Nothing help. At least until I loot a new one. So, why it take so long to bring me back?"

"Me too!" Fettid interjected. "I already say that. Why it so slow? And where my hand marky what make me even betterer with knifeys gone?"

"Well…" Maggat paused. "So the big oversister steal the gauntlet and now she the overlady and the overlady is now the little oversister."

"I'm still the oversister," Cattleya said helpfully.

"She are still the oversister," Maggat confirmed. "So we are thinking that we is gonna go help the little oversister become the overlady again 'cause we no want to work for the big oversister what are the overlady now. Also, because Coddy are sucking up to the big oversister and sod that. I no are taking orders from that pillock."

Char embraced Maggat. "Brother! Comrade!"

"I no are your brother and I no know what a comrade is."

"You is thinking for yourself! We minions no need the hand of the boor-shwa-zee overlords! It are the sweat of our looting what make the overlords have lotsa money, and we take the scraps off their table!"

"I hope you no are thinking of taking away that we is getting to eat the scraps," Fettid growled.

"When the Redvolution comes, we are not only gonna get the scraps, but we are gonna get to eat the table and the food what are on it! Down with the overlords! Minions no need their iron boot on us!"

The other four stared at him. "Yes, we do," Maggat said. "Minions what no have an overlord no go out and get new loot. We just get killed and we no get to go to fun places and loot them."

"Yeah," Maxy said, slapping Char playfully on the back of the head. "Better to serve in hell than reign in heaven, that are what I always say."

"No you don't," Fettid objected, ignoring him. "You never say that before in your life."

"Well, I could always say it."

"Anyways, the rain in heaven are probably holy water, and that burns when it get in your eyes," Scyl said, nodding.

"Don't start," Maggat growled. "Look, it are like this, Char. Now we is rebels. This are a once in a lifetime chance for you to actually overthrow an overlord. Once the little oversister are overlady again, you can be all super annoying about having done it. You'd like that, yeah?"

Char nodded. "I guess that are betterer. We is gonna be the worstest worst coup d'minion! We is gonna need a banner and armbands and a revolutionary song…"

"Ooh, I can help!" Maxy said, eyes lighting up.

"First we find Louise," Cattleya said, eyes narrowed. "And preferably something to drink."



"Oh dear," Magdalene said, looking like she was on the edge of losing it. "So, let me get this straight. Eleanore has stolen all your power, fallen to the darkness, and is marching off somewhere with the Gnarl advising her and the minions on her side. And she's probably going all old school de la Vallière on us."

Wincing, Louise nodded.

"… I do believe this calls for an outright 'oh fuck'."

"Language!" Louise said, although she secretly agreed. "But I think I can stop her."

Magdalene hung her head. "You might not remember it, but she was basically like my twin sister for most of my life," she said softly. "Non-identical, obviously. She was the self-confident one and I… wasn't. It was only when we fell out that I had to get tough and I did that by asking myself what she'd do. Even if I wasn't giving birth literally right now, I couldn't beat her. She's better than me at everything – even before you get into the fact that you two are from the main line, or that she's now empowered by evil."

"You're wrong there," Louise said, eyes gleaming. "You get along with an entire cult and only one of them has stabbed you. She couldn't do that. Everyone would try to stab her. Probably even without anyone tempting them to do it."

"… true, but I don't think that'll help."

"It might. And you know her, you're clever, and," Louise took a breath. "I feel so much better now. Better than I have in years. I think that evil power, the power of the overlady – it's like a weight on your shoulders. I've lived like that my entire life. She's going to be feeling unsettled and, well, the opposite of how I feel right now. We have a chance."

"Foolish optimism," Magdalene said, but there was a hint of doubt in her voice and Louise seized on that.

"You don't think that. You're just afraid that I'm right."

"I think that I'm an awful person to evaluate what happens when two people from the main line fight," Magdalene snapped. "Especially when both of you have given me orders in the past. I want you both to win and that's really messing with my head! I… I just hate… I hate…"

Louise rose, forcing down her aches and pains, and knelt before Magdalene, taking both her hands in hers. "Shhh. Shhh." She swallowed. "I'm sorry. I never asked for this, and you never asked for this either. I'm ordering you to ignore all other orders from any other main line de la Vallière, save for this one. Do you understand? I'm ordering you to think clearly and not let the curse influence you. It's what I need most right now – a clear head from someone I trust."

Madgalene sucked in a breath. "Are… are you even allowed to do that?"

"No one said I couldn't. You're compelled to do what I want and need, and what I need right now is you thinking clearly, because you know Eleanore."

The older woman laughed. "Well… maybe?" She took a deep breath, and seemed to take comfort from it, shedding some of her nervous tension. "I don't know if it worked, but I appreciate the sentiment."

Louise sank back into a sitting position. "Eleanore knew something about what was going on," Louise said slowly, hugging her knees. "She recognised the gauntlet. And the ruby on the back. How? You were her friend. How would she know what it was?"

The older woman frowned. "There are… ah!" Magdalene drew several sharp short breaths, and glared up at her. "You were the one who talked me into going ahead with this pregnancy," she growled, grabbing Louise's wrist and holding tight. "I'm not feeling very happy with you right now."

"I'm sorry it hurts," Louise said. "There, there. Breathe deeply. It'll all be over in… uh, some time? I'm sorry, I'm eighteen. I don't know how long labour lasts in humans. Cats and dogs, yes. Humans, no."

"So helpful," Magdalene drawled, sounding more like her normal self. "But yes. Where was I? There are rumours and tales… nothing concrete, you understand? But all the most fearsome overlords with minion servants and such-like in history have had ties to the royal families of the Brimiric nations. And there was a book written in Old Romalian that we found back in our adventuring days. It claimed that one of Brimir's children was driven mad by the Abyss and tried to kill his brother and sister. One last curse from the Dark Lord who Brimir slew."

"The first overlord," Louise whispered.

"Sorry?"

"There are sources I have access to that… that would support that," Louise said, absent-mindedly rubbing her left hand. It was so strange to not have the gauntlet sitting there. "There was the first overlord. The one who created the orcs, then made the minions as an improvement on orcs. Also, the one who first conquered the Abyss and enslaved demons and… honestly, was probably responsible for a good seven in ten things wrong with the world. The other three in ten being the fault of elves, of course."

Magdalene inhaled softly. "Well. Your 'sources' are… surprisingly accurate. That's forbidden knowledge – but it does match the Old Romalian book. Someone tried to burn it rather than let us take it from them. So of course Eleanore risked her life to get it."

"Because it was a book," Louise agreed, nodding. "So what was in it?"

Magdalene spread her hands. "I don't know everything. I caught griffinpox from Jean-Jacques's dang familiar before I could finish it and spent the entire week in bed. And then Jean-Jacques refused to let me finish it. He said it was dangerous and heretical – and Eleanore agreed. I don't think she knew I'd seen any of it." She paused. "I don't know what happened to the book after that."

Louise sucked in a breath, blowing out her cheeks. Well, well. "So he knows something – and so does Eleanore." Something that had been pressing at the back of her mind since she woke up took the chance to remind her of it. She tried to stand up, and collapsed back down onto the cushions. "Dang it."

"You need to rest," Magdalene said. "At least until the healing finishes its work. They force fed you the potions to get you back on your feet. It's kind of sweet of them. I hardly had to shout at all. But it does take some time."

"I know," Louise said clenching her teeth and trying to stand up again. "There is somewhere I need to be."

"Yes, yes, I know, defeat Eleanore and—"

"No. Well, yes! But right now, there is somewhere else I need to be."

"Some dark ritual site?"

Louise shook her head. "An… important place, to relieve a great burden I bear."

Magdalene tilted her head. "What do you… ah. Is it because potions contain a lot of water?"

Louise nodded and managed to stand on her third try, moving through sheer willpower and a certain note of desperation.

"Out the door, second on the right. You can't miss it."


...


Snow crunched underfoot. And Gnarl simply would not be silent.

"… but your wickedness, you really should accept the minions into your service. Not only is it traditional, but they can serve you as your utterly expendable underlings. Without minions, you would have to rely on inferior substitutes, like orcs! Have you ever smelt an orc changing room? It's worse than a dragon's latrine. And—"

"Founder, do you ever shut up?" Eleanore snapped. "I don't care about your wittering. And I am not giving up Ozymandias for someone who is so utterly disloyal that he's willing to change sides at the drop of a – ha – gauntlet."

"Your malevolence! I am loyal to the office of the overlord and so…"

"Which is to say," Eleanore said, slotting each word into place, "you are not loyal to the overlord. Oh, I know my history. Do you know how many revolutions, how many traitors have used that as their justification? It's not that they're disloyal, oh no. It's the current incumbent who's letting down the office." She clenched her fist, metal clanking. "I can't stand fair-weather friends."

Ozymandias chittered to her, sitting on her shoulder.

Eleanore tilted her head to listen. "Ah ha. So they've locked the doors?"

The golden tamarin nodded, and chattered a few short words.

"I see. Yes, good idea." Eleanore turned on her heel, confusing the minions who managed to trip over each other. No small number of fights resulted from that, but Eleanore paid that no attention.

"Uh, overlady, where you going?" Coddy asked, skipping and jogging as he tried to keep up with his long-legged boss. "It probably are easier if you tell us."

Eleanore pinched the bridge of her nose with her left hand. These idiots might be useful as expendable things for just long enough. "The doors of the Grand Archive of the University of Amstrelredamme are twenty metres tall and made of enchanted steel. The magic keeps them locked and proof against all entry. They could take a battery of cannons or a square-class's spell without a dent. It takes a team of ten men several minutes to open them in the morning."

"Ah. That are a puzzler. I guess we are gonna to send some of the greens to sneak through the—"

"No. Why would I do something like that? There's a back entrance for when they have to take a deliveries in the night," Eleanore said, looking down her nose at the brown minion. "We'll just go in through there."

"Your wickedness, so you want to take the treasures of the Grand Archive?" Gnarl's floating image said, beaming. "Oh, most ingenious. I only wish your sister had that ambition. She was all 'I must capture Princess Henrietta' and 'I must destroy the Regency Council'. But you're looking for old, dark magics, aren't you?"

"You could say that," Eleanore said. "But you shouldn't. I'm really sick of your voice."


...


"You look better. I suppose since you're a small girl, the potions work their way through you faster – in more than one way," Magdalene said when Louise let herself back in. Her posture was straighter and the bruises on her neck looked days old. "I don't feel better, incidentally. The contractions are getting worse and on top of that I'm just plain exhausted. Being stabbed really takes it out of you. I know that from long experience."

"I'm so sorry," Louise said, nodding as she lowered herself into a chair. Her brow was furrowed in pensive thought. "I wear all that plate armour to protect me from it, but even with padding underneath you wind up covered in bruises." She pursed her lips. "Hmm."

The other woman said nothing.

"Hmm," she tried again. "Hmm hmm. Hmm."

Magdalene sighed, shuffling her chair along the floor to sit closer to Louise and the fire. "You look like you have –ah! Founder, this baby is not starting on good terms with me! – something on your mind," she said.

"I was… ahem, busy, and I got to thinking," Louise said, running her hands through her still damp hair. Pursing her lips, she found a ribbon on the table next to her and started trying to tie her hair back into a ponytail. "About my life and… and everything…"

"Yes, that is something people often think about when they are –significant pause – busy," Magdalene agreed. "It's just the mind wandering."

"Is it, though? I mean, I… I don't normally feel like this. Maybe it's the potions or whether it's knowing that I'm actually a really powerful wind mage…"

"You are?"

"Oh yes, very much so. I can casually cast lightning spells," Louise said, eyes sparkling as she glanced over at a nearby mirror and admired her tied back hair. It made her look much more heroic. "Well, it's a bit of a strain, but I believe without the dark power of the overlady I'm an almost-untrained square-rank wind mage."

"Founder, you disgust me," Magdalene said, shaking her head. "Some of us had to work for a very long time and kill a lot of goblins to hit triangle rank."

"Oh yes, I can see how that might seem unfair," Louise said thoughtfully. She rubbed one of the fast-fading bruises on her left wrist. "I've never really had a chance to look at things from this angle. I was always the 'Zero' at school – someone worthless, with no talent. I'm sorry if it seemed like I was bragging."

Magdalene narrowed her eyes. "I wonder if any of the potions had a soporific effect?" she muttered to herself. "Or something that would release the inhibitions?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking about the baby."

"Right. Well… I mean, my life. And… and how I've been so silly. In so many ways." Slowly, she slumped down, holding her head in her hands. "I've been such a terrible fool with both Henrietta and Emperor Lee. How could they tolerate me? I've been so abrasive and… and just utterly dreadful, always dancing around my feelings because I couldn't accept them." She laughed, shoulders hunched over. "The only one I was making miserable there was myself."

Magdalene glared at her, sweaty hair falling in front of her face. "What the heck are you blathering on about?" she demanded. "And wait, what? You have feelings towards the crown princess?"

"As soon as I get back, I'll need to sit down Henrietta and have a face to face conversation with her like mature adults," Louise said to the thin air, crossing her arms. "I… I don't know if she can accept how I feel about her, but she should know the truth. We'll see how things go from there." She blushed pinkly. "M-maybe the feeling that there's someone else out there who deeply cares for her might help her get over the loss of her beloved. Oh, but am I being selfish? Shouldn't I respect her right to mourn for him? But on the other hand, surely that much grief is self-destructive, and she needs something else to live for. I've been neglecting her terribly so because I've been dealing with these feelings, and perhaps that's why she's dabbling in darker magics. Oh, it's all so complicated."

Blinking, Magdalene tilted her head. "I think I've lost too much blood," she said woozily. "Or maybe this is some side effect of giving birth. Some kind of magical aura of motherhood. People don't confide in me."

"After that… well, it depends," Louise continued. "Maybe she can't accept another woman's feelings, in which case I'll just have to accept it and I do so hope we can remain friends." She hugged herself. "You know, I now wonder why I even made such a fuss about liking both men and women. Well, one woman. And Jessica I suppose, but that's the incubus thing so that's not really my fault. I suppose if Henrietta doesn't feel that way about me - and that's fine, it's not her fault - well, that just means I should devote my time to pursuing Emperor Lee."

"The Dark Dragon Emperor of Cathay?" Magdalene asked, bewildered. "Wait, why am I even encouraging you? I don't want you to be open about your feelings, least of all if I have to listen to…"

"Oh yes!" Louise said, ignoring the attempt at objections. "He is quite handsome, and we get along well. I think he has feelings for me. If so, that's just wonderful! I truly believe in the power of love to redeem him! It might be the work of a few years, but my love might be able to make him the Light Dragon Emperor!"

Magdalene groaned as another wave of contractions hit. "... it doesn't work that way. It really doesn't work that way," she managed once they had passed. "You can't turn a bad boy good just by offering him your love. And your body."

"No, you can," Louise disagreed. "It's well-attested historically. Lots of figures of great evil have been saved by the power of love." She blushed. "And… um, possibly the power of bodies. I might need to research that one further."

"Okay, yes, true, you can. However, all the stories which talk about the healing power of love and the redemption a good woman can bring to a brooding damaged possibly grey-haired man who's so handsome and a really good friend even if he has a darker side," Magdalene paused for breath, "well, they don't mention all the times it doesn't work out. The stories would be a lot less romantic if the dark lord just ignored the heroine or worse had her decapitated or even worse picked her best friend over her. And the times it works, it tends to be on people who aren't the dark emperor of the Mystic East."

Louise blinked. Some of what her friend and spymistress was saying had registered in the funny state of mind she was in. "Wait, are you talking from personal experience there?"

"Me? Of course not. Why would you think that? It's nonsense. I'm not talking from personal experience." Magdalene paused. "Do I look like I've had my head cut off?"

Louise had to agree that she did not.

"And continuing to not speak from personal experience," she added, "in my not-personal experience, love triangles don't work out. And," she glanced over at Françoise-Athenais with a hint of deep sorrow in her eyes, "never listen to people who suggest that maybe the three of you can share. It just gets really, really awkward and you're all drunk and then no one knows quite what to do with their hands and the bed isn't big enough and then…"

Tilting her head, Louise frowned. "I don't follow. What are you talking about?"

"… don't you have an Eleanore to beat?" Magdalene asked, rather red in the face.

"Oh, right! How self-centred of me, to pour out my heart to you when there's a world to save!" She grabbed her – well, Eleanore's – wand off the table. "I need to track down Eleanore. And save her. Or stop her. Actually, I need to stop her, and then preferably save her."

"Yes. That's probably the best way."

Louise made her way over, and gave Magdalene a hug. "Oh, thank you so much for helping me resolve this! You're a wonderful listener!"

"... you're welcome? Also please, not so tight, I was stabbed!"

"I mean it!" Louise shifted her arms. "You've been a really good friend and, yes, I am proud to call you one! And once this is all over, I'll make it up to you! On my honour!"

And with that said, Louise swept out, her white dress flapping around her.

"Remember to dress up warm!" Magdalene called. "Ask someone for a warm robe! You don't want to catch a cold." She paused, and blinked. "Founder, am I getting maternal?" she growled. "Well, it's not my fault. Stupid babies messing with my body. And… she does sound just like Aunt Karina," she added, before another contraction hit. "Jacqueline! Get in here! Get this darn baby out of me! I cannot go through hours more of this, I swear! There's not even a sign of the darn head yet!"

"Now, now, it'll be done when it's done," Jacqueline said, bustling through.

"But I want it to be done now! Can't you just slice me open and get it over and done with? I've already been stabbed once today!"

"Oh Mag, you're so funny! I brought you a potion to take the edge of the pain, and mixed it with tea. It's hot though, so don't burn your mouth." She carefully placed the tray next to Magdalene. "So the overlady is Eleanore's little sister, hmm?"

"No."

"Uh uh uh, don't lie, or I won't give you the tea."

"Well, uh... maybe? But hypothetically if it was true, you couldn't tell anyone!" Magdalene said quickly, protectively grabbing the tea. "Ow!"

Jacqueline tutted. "I said it was hot. And, well, good for her. She's a nice girl for a black tyrant of darkness. If we're going to be allied with someone plotting dominion over Tristain, I'd rather someone who attends our book club meetings and remembers to bring a bottle of wine or four. I think it's her turn to host one. It'll be nice to see a proper tower of doom."

From next door came a cry of "Um! Excuse me! Has anyone seen my unicorn?" Louise stuck her head back in. "Have you?"

Jacqueline sucked a breath in between her teeth. "Oh! Oh! Um, yes. The unicorn just walked away a few minutes ago. Were we meant to stop it from leaving?"

But Louise had already dashed away.


...


There was no one at the back entrance, and the door had already been torn open. Alarm spells wailed out, unanswered. Eleanore picked her way, through carefully, black lightning sparking over her armoured fingers.

The high halls of the Grand Archives were lined with books. The entire building smelt of paper, leather and a hint of candlewax. And under all of that, something hauntingly meaty and organic.

From the crawling horrors creeping over the floor and hanging from the ceiling, Baelogji had made sure that her loyalists were in charge of this place. Now that they had received their ultimate reward, they were rather less concerned with categorisation and more concerned with copulation and cannibalism.

Eleanore looked over the scene of twisted flesh and once-humanity, and her nose wrinkled in contempt. "Kill them all," she ordered.

The minions complied gleefully. Yelling warcries they charged forwards. Greens clambered up the walls to repeatedly stab human-headed spiders, while reds burned beaked mammals and browns clobbered the rest.

"Excellent intonation, and a perfect attitude," Gnarl said, nodding in approval. "Your maliciousness, already you are—"

"Shut up. I'm thinking," Eleanore said curtly. Her eyes momentarily flickered to a bookcase that was ablaze and she seemed about to intervene, but she shook her head sadly and looked away. Instead, she added her own spells to clearing a path through the corridors, and made her way to a great locked door barred which was barred and chained. Stone golems grated to life, pointing their spears at her.

A pair of minions charged in, weapons at the ready, and promptly got pounded into very, very flat pancakes. The lefthand golem had a challenging note in its earthstone eyes as it slowly ground the red pulp into the ground with its foot.

Eleanore sighed. "Golems are so shoddy as sentinels," she said critically. "They can't even approach me unless I try to get in." She gestured at the door, and barked a single word. It dissolved into dust, along with the golems and half a minion who had been in the way. Eleanore stepped over the oozing body and headed down. "You are not to follow me," she instructed the other minions, her eyes hollow. "Your orders are to stop anyone from following me. No matter what, let no one past."

Coddy nodded. That was more like it! A clear order from the overlady. "Yes, boss! We are certainly gonna do that."

She paused at the threshold, seemingly torn. "Also… don't set any more of the books on fire. Kill anyone who does."

That produced a muttering from the reds, but the other minions were entirely fine with explicit orders to kill reds if they felt like it. And with that said, Eleanore headed down into the depths, accompanied only by her familiar and the glowing floating form of Gnarl. Several more spells marked her passage as she disarmed trap after trap through application of evil magic.

"Oh, your wickedness, you clearly know your way around down here," Gnarl said. "It is always so devilishly amusing when the stupid forces of Goodness give one access to their secrets. And this is the Grand Archive! So many dark magics, sealed away down here that cannot be destroyed – or which were kept because to destroy them would be too hard. And light magics, of course, sealed away for exactly the same reasons. Ownership of the Grand Archives tends to swap fairly frequently, as I recall."

Eleanore ignored him, simply continuing her way down the ill-lit stairs full of enchanted statues, tripwires, spring-loaded razors and other products of inventive minds from both sides of the moral spectrum. Ozymandias was of great help here, being light enough to avoid setting off pressure traps. His nimble fingers helped undo tripwires and defuse magical traps.

At the bottom of the staircase lay a well-lit door, a great slab nearly identical to the front entrance upstairs. Before it was located three levers – one of gold, one of silver and one of iron. On the floor before it was a brass plaque, and on that was written a message.

"Ah, quite the interesting conundrum, your darkness," Gnarl said, squinting down at the plaque. "It appears to be a rather obtuse riddle. Let me see:

"One, and only one of these levers will open the door.
The others will kill you in a number of very inventive ways.
One is shining gold, wise and far-seeing, with noble power.
One is bright silver, mystic and hidden, possessed of hidden knowledge.
One is humble iron, without pretence, only worthy of a peasant.
The answer here will depend on who you are.
Which one will you pull?"

Gnarl's floating image sat back. "Quite the interesting question. Which did the designers of this puzzle value more? Royalty, knowledge or humility? A disgustingly heroic question of self-definition and what you value, I see? It always makes me sick to my toes to come across these kinds of things. The answer is never 'power'. Urgh!"

"There's no need to read it out loud," Eleanore said, sniffing. "It won't do you any good."

"Ah?"

"The message is a lie." Eleanore stepped up to the gold and silver lever, while Ozymandias leapt off her shoulder to cling onto the iron one. "Ready? On three."

Ozymandias nodded.

"One. Two. Three." She pulled two of the levers, while her familiar hung from the third, letting his weight pull it down. The mechanisms clunked, and the door edged open slowly. "Now we just have to wait for it to open enough to squeeze through," she said wearily.

"Ah, your darkness. So the heroes who designed this thing felt that all three were needed and trying for one is a sign of moral failing. How droll."

"If you like," Eleanore said. "Personally, I just think they felt they were clever. It's the sort of thing I'd do, giving false messages."

"Now, what are you looking for down here, your maliciousness?" Gnarl wondered. "There are so many dark treasures hidden here. The Helm of Scull?"

Eleanore snorted. "Hardly. I don't want to be possessed by an ancient necromancer."

"The Last Spell of Obteneratus III?"

"There is literally no point in eating the sun."

"The Hand of the Bloody Duke?"

"A fake. He had both when I met him."

"Hmm." Gnarl tilted his head. "The Great Working of Elias the Chronophage?"

Eleanore stiffened up. "You know of him?"

"Oh, of course." Gnarl shook his head. "A very strange man, and a very unreliable subordinate for my overlord at the time. Couldn't bring himself to attack any town with a clocktower in it. But your wickedness, I don't think that is a sound idea. You should know…"

"I don't care what you think I should know," Eleanore said, staring through Ozymandias' eyes at the opening door. "I know what I'm doing. And I'm getting rather sick of your attitude. For all your alleged skill as an advisor, when we look at the history of people you've advised your main talent appears to be abandoning them soon enough to avoid being killed yourself."

"Ah ha, quite the little scholar you are, aren't you?"

"You might say that." The gauntlet whispered to her, and Eleanore cocked her head. "Of course," she said softly. "I don't know why I didn't do that before. I was such a fool."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, your wi—"

Eleanore tapped the gauntlet, and Gnarl's image vanished.

"Much better," Eleanore said, self-satisfaction clear in her voice.

Ozymandias patted her on the hand, and made an enquiring noise.

"Just a little bit longer," she said, rubbing her glowing eyes. "Just a little bit longer, and we can fix the world."



Louise was faced with a conundrum. Her unicorn had galloped off somewhere. She had followed the hoof prints. This had been easy at first, but the falling snow was covering them. And now they had just suddenly stopped entirely, as if an invisible line had been drawn in the snow and beyond there the unicorn had started flying or something.

She paused in her chain of thought, tilting her head. Maybe it had. After all, some unicorns could fly.

"Uh! Hello? Monsieur Unicorn? Where have you gone?" she called out tentatively. Something rustled through the undergrowth, and she whirled, wand raised. But it was only a white hare. "Oh, hello," she said, scrutinising it for familiar marks and finding none. "You wouldn't have happened to have seen a unicorn anywhere?"

The hare ignored her and busied itself with trying to dig through the snow drift.

"Oh dear," Louise said, rummaging in her pockets. She tossed a scrap of the bread that Lady Jacqueline had forced on her to it. "You should probably get out of here. Things might explode around me. They usually do. Or—"

"Well, I no see why the means of looting should not be owned by the pro-lee-tar-a-rat."

"You so stupid! Who give looting things to a rat?"

"Well, I would jolly well hope you give things to rats! I have some of them, and they're just so adorable!"

"… the minions might show up," Louise said sadly. The hare was running off, as most things with a nose did when minions approached. And what the heck was Cattleya doing here? She straightened up, hand on her wand, and headed towards the voices.

What she found was five minions riding a giant wolf with blood red eyes, sharp fangs, and a dress in its mouth.

"Um," said Louise.

"Oh! Little sister! You look well!" said the wolf, her voice slightly muffled. She spat out the dress, and growled at Fettid when the green lunged for it. "Sorry! But I was just feeling so bad about their little legs getting cold and they were slowing us down too much when we were looking for you so I had to carry them!"

"Cattleya, what are you doing here?"

"Oh! Well, it was certain death to go through the portal, but since I'm already dead…"

"I see." Louise stuffed her wand back in her pocket, and huffed on her hands. "You haven't seen a unicorn around here, have you?"

"No, more's the pity! I could do with a snack!"

"No snacking," Louise responded automatically. "Do you know what's happened here?"

"Eleanore stole your gauntlet, Eleanore is now the overlady, that's bad for everyone and probably especially you since she's the worst big sister ever and can't be trusted," Cattleya said without pausing for breath.

"… yes. So you do."

"We told her!" Maggat said brightly from atop Cattleya. He slithered down off her back, joined by the other minions. "See, we no are meant to be doing this," he said a trifle awkwardly, "but we no like the new overlady. We are wanting you back."

"Oh my," said Louise. "Eleanore managed to make minions disloyal." She shook her head, feeling rather sorry for her big sister. Louise had tried to drive off minions through sarcasm, mockery, insults, threats of death and occasionally repeated kicks with a metal boot. Only the last worked, and only then for a short time. That her sister had managed it on her first meeting was… well, impressive in its own way.

"Uh… I know we're after Eleanore, but all I can smell is minion right now and since I'm a wolf, I am suffering quite a bit," Cattleya said. "Louise, can you look after my dress and stop any of the little dears from stealing it? I just need to jump in that ornamental pond over there."

"Won't it be… cold?"

"Oh no, I might die of cold. But I still have to do it."

Louise frowned, holding the dress, as the wolf hopped over a snow drift and there was the sound of breaking ice. Had that been sarcasm from Cattleya? Was she ill? Or had she just forgotten that she couldn't die of cold?

Speaking of dying of cold, she really hoped Cattleya would be fast. The cult had given her a nice warm white robe over the dress, but her feet were chilly.

Louise's earrings crackled with the screams of the damned. "Jessica?" she asked hopefully, waving at the others to stop.

"Not quite," Gnarl said. His voice was distant, but still clear. "So you were defeated, your ex-wickedness? And yet you're alive. Very shameful. Tch. To think that the overlady didn't even kill you. Poor form. Very poor form. Never leave a rival behind you to plot revenge."

"Wait a moment," Louise said suspiciously. She raised one hand defensively, looking around for an ambush. "Jessica can't reach me. You - that is, Gnarl - is in the Abyss too. This has to be one of Eleanore's tricks!"

Maxy gestured wildly at Louise. "Tell him that we no are here," he mouthed, to furious nods from Scyl. Louise put a finger to her lips, ordering them to stay silent.

"Can you please throw me my dress?" Cattleya called over. Louise balled it up and tossed it her way.

"I'm not a fake. Not one bit, your former malevolence. Your pet incubus might have her tricks, but she's just a child. And I don't tell everyone everything I can do," Gnarl said, sounding very hurt. "To think of such a thing! I always hold a few things back for myself."

That did sound like a Gnarl-like thing to do, Louise admitted. "Well, what do you want?" she asked, trying to stay sounding polite since there were such things as manners. "I doubt you're just contacting me to gloat because I was beaten and… wait, actually, I think that's quite possible. Are you just gloating?"

"Not one bit, my has-been overlady." There was the sound of knuckles popping. "I just thought you might like to know where the overlady - that is, your eldest sister – is. And what she's up to."

"And why are you helping me?" Louise asked suspiciously. "What kind of evil ploy is it? I doubt it's because you like me."

"Quite so, quite so." She heard an exhalation of smoke - and suspected Gnarl had a cigar in his mouth. "From my point of view, the fact that she left you alive without locking you up in a dungeon to torture and without even crushing your sense of self or otherwise magically enslaving you raises certain doubts as to her… capacity to maintain her position."

Louise swallowed. Um.

"So I thought I'd help the overlady by making sure her most prominent rival to the position attacked her again. If she defeats you - which I will support her in doing - then, why, she's solidified her position. But if you defeat her again and take back your gauntlet and your fraction of the mantle of darkness - well, of course, I would be most willing to become your chief advisor again."

"I see," she said. Louise was more than a little insulted at the thought that she'd want to… to take back that cursed power from Eleanore. She felt so much better like this! And she was the daughter mother had always wanted, the wind mage who could learn from her and wasn't a vampire or an Eleanore! She didn't have to skulk around in shadows anymore! She'd be able to make things work out without the power of the overlady, anyway. Just wait until she told mother and father about what the Council had been doing!

"What's going on?" Cattleya whispered, sticking her head over the snow drift. There was ice in her hair, which seemed to be freezing solid. She didn't look well at all. She looked monstrous.

"Gnarl is being Gnarl," Louise said, cupping her hands around her mouth in the hope that it would stop the earrings from hearing her. "What happened to you!?"

"You know how it was certain death to go through the portal? Well, I died. But then I came back. It's going to take a teeny while to get over some of the side effects. What is he saying?"

"He's offering to tell us where Eleanore has gone, so we'll fight."

"Oooh!" Louise shushed her. "I mean, oh. Well, I want to know that. I really want to punch her in the face. Oh, and stop her falling to evil, I suppose." Cattleya beamed. "Don't deny me this chance," she said sweetly.

Louise directed a long hard look at her sister. The resurrection had left her looking more corpse-like, with her flesh ashen-pale and her skin drawn a little too tight over her bones. There was a hint of fang poking out all the time, even when her blood-red lips were closed, and it was hard to tell if she was wearing eyeliner or just had bags under her eyes. She did not look very huggable or safe.

"Where is she?" she asked Gnarl, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that she was making a mistake.

"Why, the overlady has gone to the Grand Archives of the University, looking for forbidden lore, your diminutiveness. She has taken all her loyal minions with her – wouldn't you just know, some of them have gone missing! – and she is refusing to listen to my advice. Such a shame. Ha! Such a foolish girl! She's clearly let the power go to her head. There's no way she could cast the Great Working of Elias the Chronophage!"

Louise relaxed. "Oh, that's good?" She paused. "Why not? Eleanore is very clever."

"It's not a matter of intellect. She isn't strong enough! Not even an overlord can manage it… well, maybe the First could have, but no one since. And she doesn't have a pact with a demon lord or a dark god, which is the only way to get the kind of raw Evil you'd need to fuel it. She'll just drain herself to death trying! I suppose that's one way to get your hands on the gauntlet again with no effort."

There was a painful silence.

"Wait a moment. What was that?" Louise asked, paling. "About the power of a dark god being enough to fuel that spell? Is that what you really just said?"

"Oh, indeed. So there's no need to worry about that."

Goodness, what was that feeling pressing on her chest? What was that broiling, writhing, squirming sensation that made it hard to breathe and made her want to run away and hide?

Oh yes. Existential terror. That would be it.

"She has the power of a dark god," Louise whispered.

"What?" For the first time, Gnarl seemed disconcerted.

"Athe and Baelogji are trapped in a magic crystal! And she has it! She has the power!" Louise tried to resist the urge to bite her nails, and failed. "How much time can this magic destroy? Please only let it be minutes! I'll even settle for hours."

Gnarl cleared his throat. "Well, last time it was used, it was… well, it's quite hard to say. Didn't you ever wonder why history is so confused and there's an endless succession of monarchs with very short reigns? Of course, old Elias didn't even cast the spell right. The way that a hero stabbed him through the forehead when he was mid-way through may have had something to do with that. Wretched heroes, always meddling with a man's attempt to destroy periods of time."

"You're not helping, Gnarl!"

"Correct, your former-wickedness, I am not. But… decades, at least. The entire reign of King Julius the Benevolent never happened."

"Who?"

"Precisely." Gnarl seemed to come to a decision. "Your ex-darkness, you have to stop her! It pains me to act against the current overlady, but you know what? If she destroys more than the past few years and that means I don't meet you, I'll wind up back in that damn cage again! Having to listen to that really annoying vampire with his obsession about melodramatic pauses! Oh, it's more than my old heart can bear!"

It wasn't exactly the purest motive that anyone had ever had for helping someone stop a force of great Evil, but Louise was willing to bet that there had been less pure reasons.