AN: In terms of timing, this chapter takes place after today's "Patrol Log."

To Lyger 0: Confidence isn't necessarily a bad thing! Especially considering how badly it's been lacking lately.


The next morning, John and Jake left their tent before the sun was up. Looking around, they were among the only ones awake this early in the "Villains' Ghetto." As they walked past the tent shared by Mecha-Man and the Engineer, the sound of snoring echoed out, not quite drowning out another voice's quiet muttering. A couple of the other Dark Acolytes were starting their morning exercise and meditation routines – Alaina and her roommate sparred unarmed just outside their tent. However, none of the miraculous abusers in their encampment – Killer Bee, Elettrisicario, Castutrice, and the rest – none of them seemed to be awake yet.

John frowned. "All miraculous use is abuse." The Novice-Master had drilled that lesson into his head at every opportunity over the last twelve years. A Dark Acolyte was never to use or desire to use a miraculous; he was not to consort with those who would seek such unnatural power. But the Dark Acolytes were now allied with miraculous abusers. And just yesterday, the Heirodeacon and Sub-Prior had seriously considered forcing one of their Dark Acolyte brothers to use a miraculous!

As he and Jake made their way out of the "Villains' Ghetto" and into the civilian section of the camp, John could see a few figures moving around on the far side of the camp, in and around "Hero Town." A couple of them appeared to be miraculous abusers, sparring with their swords. A trio of other heroes had their backs to the rest of the camp, walking in the direction of their dining pavilion. Near the edge of the cliff on that side of the valley, two of the Guardian Initiates were walking away from the location where the nearby Miraculous Temple had to be, picking their way through the camp in the direction of the main trail leading up the cliff side. A knot formed in John's gut as he followed them with his eyes. The trail up the cliff was his and Jake's ultimate objective, either for good or for ill. Over the month that they had all been in Angola, John had studiously avoided getting involved one way or the other with the Heroes of Paris and the other miraculous abusers. They were his enemies, yes, but ever since his arrival in Paris, they had all been united against this greater threat, and that had to take the precedence. But now, the Heirodeacon had changed all of that with a word yesterday. Now they were getting involved.

And if they failed, it wasn't much of a stretch to imagine what would happen.

Quietly, they walked past the cliff face where one of the miraculous abusers had dug out a shallow cave, across the front of which someone had welded a series of bars to form a makeshift prison. In the early morning light, with the sun just beginning to peek over the cliff above them, the interior of the prison was cast into deep shadow, the figures within only visible as indistinct blobs. Yet inside, John could distinguish several Dark Acolytes by their disheveled robes, sleeping on the ground under thin blankets. In a separate cavity were a half-dozen others who had been seized by the miraculous abusers and their allies during their first week in Angola after their attempted assault on the camp. Then, in a third chamber, were a few refugees that the heroes had caught committing various crimes. John swallowed anxiously, edging away from the prison as he walked, trying to put Jake between him and the cliff face. If they failed today, that was where they would be – at least for the rest of their time in Africa, however long that turned out to be.

One of the Dark Acolytes in the prison coughed and rolled over, tossing a stone at John. "Hey," the Vicar whispered. John's eyes drifted up and down the way, alert for any sign of the miraculous abusers who would be watching the prison, as they walked over to stop less than a meter from the prison bars. The Vicar coughed weakly. "What's going on outside?"

"The Heirodeacon is planning something," Jake whispered back, his lips barely moving, his eyes scanning the camp behind them for anyone who might take an interest in their conversation.

"Then are you going to get us the hell out of here?"

John shook his head. "Not just now," he explained softly. "That's not the plan. We can't do anything to raise their suspicions. Not until it's time."

The Vicar frowned, his eyes narrowed at them in annoyance. "Then what are we to do in here?" he demanded heatedly, his voice rising. "The miraculous abusers are becoming more and more brazen every day with their abuse! Have you seen what they are doing? And now they have more of the things at their disposal!"

John backed away, looking in either direction to make sure none of the Guardian Initiates or miraculous abusers were close enough to spot them. He missed him at first, but as he looked, a figure in muted yellow seemed to emerge out of the rocks, leaning against the cliff face on the far side of the prison. "Wait… what do you know about it?" John wondered, turning his attention toward the Vicar.

The Vicar hummed. "Well, I can tell you that the miraculous they discovered are exceedingly powerful. As far as what they can do…" He shrugged. "I only saw one in action, but I'd be happy to describe it when you let me out. But regardless, they must be stopped, whatever they do."

John frowned, turning away from the Vicar. As he did so, his gaze settled on the miraculous abuser, who was now eyeing them suspiciously. Slowly he pushed away from the rocks and started walking in their direction. "Don't say anything!" John hissed urgently. He gave Jake a look. "If you give it away, then we'll be stuck in there, too!"

The miraculous abuser stopped a couple paces away from them, folded his arms, and leaned against the rock wall next to the Dark Acolytes' chamber of the prison. "Is everything okay over here?"

Jake grinned sheepishly. "Oh, we're all good," he assured him. "Just letting our, um, buddies know that we'll bring some more food later."

The man's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "We do provide meals for them," he responded, frowning. "We are not monsters."

"You could have fooled me," muttered the Vicar. The miraculous abuser's nostrils flared. The Vicar scoffed darkly. "I mean, thank you," he added sarcastically. "Gruel is my favorite."

Jake chuckled nervously. "I'm sure you do, but some fresh fruit never hurt. There's some berries in the forest we were going up to pick."

"You could try the garden patch over by the main parade field," the miraculous abuser pointed out. "Then you wouldn't have to leave the camp to do it."

John elbowed Jake in the ribs. "We might check that out if we don't find any," he answered, nodding. "But I figured those were more for the refugees."

"No, according to Delwer they're for everyone."

"Well, um, thank you," John told him, nudging Jake and backing away. The miraculous abuser eyes them curiously as they hurried away from the prison. "That was the best you could come up with?" John whispered to Jake, once they were out of earshot.

Jake shrugged. "I didn't exactly have much to work with," he pointed out. "And this gives us – or someone, at least – an excuse to come by later, for the next stage of the Prior's plan."

John frowned. "I mean, maybe…"

"Do you think it's really going to work?"

As they made their way along the cliff face toward the path leading out of the valley, John glanced over at Jake and hummed, inviting him to continue. After discussing it for close to a day, they had finally come up with a plan – of a sort – to carry out the Heirodeacon's instructions. But if they were going to carry this out right under the noses of all the miraculous abusers and heroes and Guardians, they would need a lot of luck… something that hadn't been on John's side since he nearly plunged to his death when the Ox first appeared! "You mean our plan?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not that," Jake replied, shaking his head, a troubled look in his eyes. "That's a total crapshoot whether it's going to succeed or fail. I mean the Heirodeacon's plan to ambush all the miraculous heroes."

John let out a breath. "I hope so. Honestly, I just want this whole nightmare to be over."

Jake nodded. "I know what you mean," he agreed, falling silent as they passed a woman talking to a miraculous abuser.

"I know I haven't been involved with any of you for very long," the woman was saying. "But all I want to do is help. My family has been trying to stop that monster for a thousand years."

"Do you even know what a Guardian is supposed to do?" wondered the miraculous abuser.

"I have been learning," the woman replied.

As they passed out of earshot, Jake sighed heavily. "Yeah… everything seemed so much clearer back when we sat our vigil at the Temple. Now it's all as clear as mud."

Stopping at the base of the path, John tried to force the nervousness and fear out of his expression, to put on a somewhat resigned appearance. Their plan would take a lot of luck, and perfect timing. And even then, it could still end with one of them dead or seriously injured. Of course, if they gave it away to the Initiates, it would all be for nothing.

The Guardian Initiate leaning against the cliff wall, the same girl they had seen the previous day, straightened up and looked them up and down. "Going back to forage for more herbs?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

John nodded, swallowing back his nervousness. "That's the plan," he answered. "We didn't find too much yesterday; maybe we'll find something further into the woods."

"But we did see a couple fruit trees," Jake added, grinning. "We didn't check them out before, but maybe this time…"

She frowned. "Just don't go too far…" she warned them. "And be careful of the mushrooms – I saw a patch of poison ones on the edge of the woods near the top of the cliff."

"We'll be careful," Jake assured her.

With a last look at them, she stepped aside and allowed them to walk up the path. "If nothing else, you could just pick some vegetables from the garden patch along the south end of the cliff," she added.

"Thanks," John called with a dismissive wave. His stomach clenched in a knot as the two of them neared the top of the cliff. In his peripheral vision, he could see more of the miraculous abusers and heroes starting to stir themselves, walking around the camp below them. He snorted. They called themselves "heroes," but their actions could do just as much to harm the universe as to help. Maybe they did deserve whatever happened to them next. Maybe the Heirodeacon's plan was the right way to stop the Tarasque and end all of this madness.

Jake groaned when they were two-thirds of the way up the path, twisting his neck in either direction. "Why does this have to be so long?" he complained. Suddenly, the ground shifted beneath them, and Jake pitched backward, waving his arms in the air. He yelled, lunging forward as the rocks fell out from under him, and grabbed for the edge of the path.

"Hang on!" shouted John, throwing his back against the cliff wall and forcing his fingertips into the fissures in the stone until the rocks stopped shifting. He scanned the camp below them in a panic, looking for help. Just in front of him, Jake had slid a foot or so below the path and held onto the rocks for dear life, constantly adjusting his grip as the stones pulled away and trailed down the cliff under him. His hand slipped, and he slid a few inches lower before grabbing onto a scrub bush. "I'm–I'm coming for you!"

There was a flash of white light, and someone with long white wings shot up from the ground below, caught an updraft, and flew up toward them in tight circles. The Guardian Initiate sprinted up the path, holding her staff out for balance. Slowly, carefully, John released his grip on the cliff side and edged a little further down the cliff before dripping to lie on his stomach, reaching out for Jake's hand. Hesitantly, Jake released one of his handholds and grabbed onto his wrist, and John started trying to pull him up.

He had gotten no more than halfway back up to the path, however, before Olivet reached them and caught Jake under the armpits, pumping her wings to pull him up onto the path. "I've got you," she grunted, dropping him down next to John and peeling away to hover just off the cliff.

"Th–thanks," Jake gasped, his voice weak.

The Initiate was the last to reach them. "What happened!?" she yelped, eyes wide, beckoning John and Jake back down the path toward her.

"I – it just collapsed!" John yelled heatedly. "We could have died!"

"I am sorry about that," apologized the Initiate once they were most of the way back down to the camp, looking back up the path and frowning, a troubled look in her eye. "We just rechecked it for stability a couple weeks ago; that really shouldn't have happened!"

"Well, it did!" retorted Jake, glaring at her.

John shrugged, clutching his chest and breathing hard. He placed his hand on Jake's shoulder. "At least we weren't killed, I suppose…"

She let out a breath. "I will ask Delwer to give it a look later. But for now, I don't think anyone should be using it."

John nodded, glancing down the length of the cliff. On the far side of the valley, he spotted movement as a rope was pulled back up to the top. "I think that's a good idea."