CHAPTER SEVEN:

RENA ROUGE

Another casual day in the marketplace, exactly as Alya remembered it.

The streets seemed intimidating in all their bustling glory. Too many eyes watched the stands, and most of them were carrying swords. Life as a thief was never easy, and only the lucky ones escaped with their hands and ears intact.

As Alya peered down from her perch at the top of the abandoned tower, she realized just how big of a world Agreste truly was: a maze of mysteries and mishaps; a sandbox of secrets and surprises.

Alya smiled. It's good to be home, she thought as she stood up.

She turned to face Trixx, who hovered beside her impatiently.

"So, let's do a recap," the redhead said, tapping the pendant that now hung around her neck. "There are only certain spells I can do with just the necklace, but for the more powerful ones – like transforming – that's where you come in."

"Bingo! Give this kid a gold star," Trixx complemented with a fanged grin. "Now that you've got the basics down, why don't we go for a little test drive?"

Alya squinted at her. "You seem pretty eager for me to let you inside this little thing," she noted as she held up her pendant by its chain. "How do I know this isn't another one of your brainwashing tricks?"

The vixen looked affronted by that. "Seriously? After everything I did for you, you still don't trust me?"

The cool look Alya gave her was answer enough.

Trixx dropped the act. "Fair enough. But I already told you: I'm out of the villain game," she insisted with marble-like eyes. "I pinky-promised, remember?" She waved her tail back-and-forth to emphasize her point. "Besides, the whole brainwashing thing was all Volpina. Just promise me that if you ever want to get into someone's head, you'll do it yourself. I suffered through enough migraines handling King Gabriel alone."

Alya found it difficult to tell whether or not the kwami was kidding around. She did promise, and she's been right about everything so far. Maybe she really has changed... or, she's changing, at least.

"All right," the former thief said, satisfied. "As long as you can transform me, I think I can figure the rest out myself."

She took a few steps back. Her heart began to thrum very loudly. Taking a deep, long breath, Alya pressed her hand against her new pendant.

"Ready?" Trixx asked, twitching with excitement.

Alya nodded with a grin. "Trixx, let's pounce!"

The last thing she saw was the kwami's body glowing and swirling towards her pendant like a star. Then, the jewel illuminated with a blinding orange light, and Alya closed her eyes.

She felt the magic running over her, stretching from her scalp all the way down to the tips of her toes. At the same time, a strange but vigorous feeling pounded in Alya's veins: a newfound strength she never had before. Her mind became a cobweb of sparkling thoughts and secrets she had never known before, but now had full knowledge of. Her senses heightened, and she could practically taste all the sweet and sweaty scents of the marketplace.

All of that happened within the breath of a second. Then, the light faded.

Alya opened her eyes, and dared to look down at herself. Her delight was instantly replaced with shock and irritation.

"Trixx!" Alya complained hotly. "I look just like Volpina!"

Snickering sounded in the back of her consciousness. Hey, you said you wanted me to transform you. You didn't specify what you wanted to look like. Besides, if you look closely, you are way different than Vol – better, even.

Alya glanced over herself again... and she couldn't help but agree with the sneaky little vixen.

The bodysuit she now wore was completely orange with a white front. Black gloves ran from her fingers all the way past her elbows, and matching boots went past her knees. In addition, a fox-like coattail hung behind her. Strapped onto her back was a beautiful flute, much smaller and less evil-looking than Volpina's had been.

Alya peered into a plane of dirty, broken glass on the floor. Even through the smudgy surface, she saw her auburn hair tied back into a high ponytail, with nine large, white-tipped strands sticking out like fox tails. Long, pointed ears sat at the top of her head, and an orange-and-white mask covered her eyes. Alya was surprised that she didn't need her glasses anymore.

But the sight of it all still unnerved her. "Marinette and the others won't know the difference!" she argued. "As soon as they see me, they'll think I'm Volpina and sick the guards on me!"

Look, honey – each magical power has its own animal attribute, Trixx explained. You wield the power of illusion. Foxes are symbols of trickery. Do the math. I couldn't change the way you look even if you ordered me to.

Alya wanted to point out that she would never order Trixx to do anything, but she shook the thought away and moaned, "Why couldn't I have been a cute, lovable, bunny-rabbit?"

An adorable bunny taking on the likes of Armand D'Argencourt? Ha! I'd love to see that!

Alya frowned, and one of her amber eyes twitched. "Nino was right – I should never agree with you from now on."

A shrill scream caught the redhead's attention.

Alya returned to her spot on the tower's edge. Her new ears turned this way and that, and she caught the unmistakable roar of thundering hooves. But the source of the commotion was several blocks away!

Trixx's presence poked the back of her mind. What are you waiting for – an invitation? Get out there and kick some criminal butt!

For once, Alya was more than eager to obey.

She spotted the nearest rooftop and leapt off without a second thought.

Landing was the easy part. Running was a no-brainer. Jumping gracefully from rooftop-to-rooftop? Please – Alya had been doing parkour since she was five.

But it was the speed and magnitude of it all that astounded the former thief. Her padded boots barely touched the ground, and they carried her across the sea of sandstone and bricks like a rush of wind. Every leap was like an enormous dive, yet the height of her jumps didn't frighten Alya. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

"Whoo-hoo!" she called out into the open as she somersaulted three times before landing in a low crouch. Then she raced right along a narrow clothesline like a circus performer with an adrenaline rush.

"This is insane!" Alya exclaimed with a broad grin.

Trixx, on the other hand, almost shrieked from within the pendant, Whatever happened to training wheels?! Slow down, girl! I don't know whether or not I can throw up in this thing!

Alya just laughed and ran on.

The runaway wagon sped down the narrow street, knocking carts and stalls aside. The grey stallion pulling it charged through the screaming crowd with all haste.

Inside the wagon, laughing cruelly for all to see and hear, was the notorious "Darkblade" and his small pack of criminal cohorts.

People dove and scrambled out of the way, taking cover from the wood and food exploding everywhere. Children were hastened away from the incoming carnage.

All except one: a lone little girl glancing around for her mother in the dispersing crowd of bodies.

Someone screamed and pointed as the stallion came towards the frightened child.

Then, without warning, an orange and red blur swooped in and swept the girl right off the street.

The horse and wagon tore past them, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake.

Everyone held their breath as the dust cleared. Then, there were plenty of astounded exasperations to go around.

The little girl was safe and sound in the arms of a strange, masked woman bearing the appearance of an orange fox with flaming hair.

The child looked up at her saviour with bright, baby-doll eyes and a buck-toothed grin. "Are you a hero?" she asked.

The woman smiled and winked at her before setting her gently back on the ground.

"Manon!" a voice from the gathering onlookers cried. It belonged to a magenta-haired woman who rushed over and swept her daughter into her arms with a shuddering sigh of relief.

Then, a bitter voice broke out of the crowd. "Wait a minute... That looks like Volpina, the evil witch!"

Alya winced as the others stared at her with gazes of concern, whispering with newfound suspicion.

But it was an old woman who silenced them. "You should all be ashamed of yourselves! Would a witch go out of her way to rescue an innocent child?" She turned to face Alya with kindly eyes. "Any intelligent person can tell that this is not Volpina."

Alya smiled and dipped her head with gratitude.

Wow, kid, Trixx murmured with surprise. You've made quite the impression.

"It's true, Mama!" the little girl, Manon, said proudly. "She's a hero, just like Ladybug!" She beamed at Alya once again. "What's your name?"

"Al..." The redhead quickly stopped herself.

If she mentioned her true name, the rumours of her heroic endeavour would undoubtedly reach the ears of King Gabriel. Then Alya would have to explain herself, which meant the king and the others would learn about Trixx.

No one can find out, Alya decided. Not until I catch D'Argencourt first.

So she gave them a new name:

"Rena Rouge," she replied with her hands on her hips. "My name is Rena Rouge."

Then, with one final wink at Manon, the new heroine turned around and raced after the getaway wagon.

Trixx hummed with intrigue. Rena Rouge. Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.

D'Argencourt grinned wickedly as the horse swept a jewelry stall off its posts. Sparkling trinkets fell like rain into the wagon, and the thieves scrambled to stuff them into their all-ready-full bag of loot.

The Master of Thievery cackled again. This is better than I hoped, he thought joyously. One last grand heist before saying farewell to this accursed city! Then, I'll come back with a new army, and I'll trample anyone who gets in my way... starting with that meddlesome street rat!

Fate, unfortunately, had heard his thoughts.

For in that instant, D'Argencourt caught something orange and funny-looking landing on the overhang bridge ahead of them.

Wait... It was a girl!

"Huh? Who's that?" D'Argencourt blubbered. The rest of his men followed suit.

The girl put something to her lips – a flute? – and began to play music. It was a simple melody, short and sweet.

But the moment she was finished, the tip of the girl's flute flared with orange light.

D'Argencourt let out a terrified gasp. Magic!

With a defiant cry, the girl swung her flute at the incoming thieves. The ball of light zoomed towards them... and hit the grey stallion.

There was a flash of white light, and the horse was gone. In its place, still pulling the wagon with its tiny harness, was a harmless grey mouse.

Without a proper animal to pull or direct it, the wagon started to slow down and swerve out of control.

Oh, confound it all.

D'Argencourt and the thieves cried out as the wagon redirected itself and slammed hard into a nearby stack of wine barrels. Wood cracked and splintered, and the kegs burst open, dousing all five men entirely as they went rolling in the dirt.

Their 'great leader' had the misfortune of scraping along the ground on his face. The wave of wine turned him reddish-purple from his hair to his breeches. Growling with immense anger, the thief leader scrambled up and snapped around in search of their colourful attacker.

But all he saw where the groaning forms of his men... and the little mouse that changed back into a horse and trotted away.

"Where is that girl?!" D'Argencourt shouted, his blue eyes blazing with fury. "I'll use her as a pincushion for my rapier!"

The scrawny, bearded thief looked around as well. "Wait... Where's our loot?" he cried.

His three companions gasped and checked all over the wreckage for any trace of their bag.

Then, a sweet and mysterious voice sounded from behind them: "Looking for this?"

Five exasperated faces turned to see the face of the masked assailant. She was holding their bag of stolen goods out in front of her, as though egging them to take it back. Now that she was up close, the men could see her pointed ears, orange mask, and narrowing sun-like eyes.

D'Argencourt's face went stark white, and he almost lost his breath. "V-V... V-V-Vol..." he stammered. "Volpina?!"

No, wait... D'Argencourt could see it now: the eyes, the hair, the coppery skin.

She looked like Volpina, but it wasn't her. This girl didn't have the ruthless aura about her, like a crackling thundercloud waiting to burst.

"That's not Volpina," the scrawny thief snarled as he drew his sword. "Just another one of Ladybug's friendly fanatics."

The girl clicked her tongue. "Now that's not very nice," she said, swinging the bag over her shoulder. "No goodies for you."

The stronger-looking thief rose up and brandished his own weapon. "Give that back!" he yelled before charging at her.

The girl didn't even flinch as the man's sword glinted in the daylight and came down.

She vanished in a burst of orange smoke.

D'Argencourt gasped. Only one person he knew had ever done a magical trick like that. "She has Volpina's powers!" he breathed. "But... how?!"

"Uh... Maybe it's her sister?" another thief suggested.

Something like a rock clubbed him on the head, and the half-wit bent over with an "OW!"

"That was for almost running that little girl over," the girl's voice sounded, like an echo in the air.

D'Argencourt quickly glanced around. "Show yourself!" he yelled.

But instead of the girl, a rock greeted him instead. The thief leader howled and rubbed the sore spot on his head with renewed hatred.

"And that was for threatening Adrien, you two-faced son of a jackal!" the girl shouted from above.

D'Argencourt looked up to see the flaming-haired female glaring down at him from one of the rooftops. She knows the prince? "Who are you?!" he bellowed.

The girl sneered. "Rena Rouge," she replied before blowing him a kiss. Then she turned and disappeared out of sight, taking the heavy bag with her.

With a heated face, the Master of Thievery snapped to his astounded, wine-soaked men. "Don't just stand there, you mindless wet dogs! She has my treasure – after her!"

All four men bore their teeth at him, but they followed the posh swordsman out of the alley nonetheless.

Alya flipped over the edge of a roof and landed back on the sandy road. She quickly dove for cover behind an empty stall before peering around the corner.

Several people littered the street, bystanders and merchants alike. But there were two familiar faces in the crowd that made Alya grin. Just the people she was looking for.

Time to have some fun, Trixx murmured mischievously.

Alya dumped the bag off loot safely behind her. Then she began to play her flute once more.

The moment the spell was done casting, Alya heard hasty footsteps coming onto the road, and she saw people being shoved roughly away. She snickered and slipped back into her hiding spot.

The thieves came to stand in the middle of the road, and they saw exactly what Alya wanted them to see.

D'Argencourt was the first to speak. "You two?!"

The two figures before them sized the five men up, their masked faces narrowed and their backs to the large stack of several wooden boxes.

Alya was amazed by the detail of her illusions, from Cat Noir's cat-like eyes to the freckles on Ladybug's cheeks. If she didn't know better, Alya would have thought they were the real deal.

That is, until "Ladybug" pointed at them and said in a high, tenor voice that definitely wasn't hers, "It's that traitor – Armand D'Argencourt!"

The four thieving lackeys looked at each other with confused expressions.

Unfortunately, D'Argencourt bought the trick all too easily, for his mustache twisted up with unrelenting malice. "Well, well," he drawled as he unsheathed his rapier in one broad motion, "back for another round, are we?"

Neither Cat Noir nor Ladybug responded. They merely stood there, their hands reaching for their weapons and their faces scrunched with anger. Behind them, the boxes seemed to grumble like an earthquake.

Alya couldn't help but pity D'Argencourt as he charged towards his two new targets.

The scrawny thief cried out too late, "Darkblade, stop!"

At that moment, Alya snapped her fingers.

D'Argencourt swung his blade... only to realize it had transformed into a floppy fish!

Simultaneously, Ladybug and Cat Noir's appearances turned blurry, like a mirage on the desert horizon. When it cleared, it wasn't Agreste's beloved heroes standing before a pile of boxes.

It was Captain Roger of the palace guard and one of his trusted lieutenants... standing before a squad of irritated soldiers!

By the time D'Argencourt realized the trick, it was too late. The face of his fish-sword smacked against Roger's, and a wet, sickening slap sounded.

Roger turned away from the blow before glaring at the startled swordsman with eyes so hateful and disgusted; Alya swore his red hair was going to set on fire underneath his cap.

D'Argencourt went as pale as dry sand, and he staggered back with the dead fish in hand, letting out a pathetic chuckle. Behind him, the other thieves groaned and winced. One of them clapped his hand against his forehead.

Alya shook so hard from laughter; she had to cover her mouth.

But she couldn't silence Trixx's guffawing. The little fox's voice resounded through every part of Alya's body. This is better than gold! Oh, did you see D'Argie's face? And the guards don't even know! Hahaha! Priceless!

Snickering, Alya peeked out to see Roger wiping his face rigorously before drawing his large sword at D'Argencourt and the thieves. "I hope you enjoyed that, Armand," the plump captain growled with a threatening smile, "because the only fun you're ever going to have is playing with the rats in the palace dungeons!"

His lieutenant – the one who had taken Ladybug's appearance – drew his own weapon, as did the rest of Roger's squad.

D'Argencourt wasted no time to escape. He practically trampled his fellow men over as he sped the other way down the road, hiking his knees up with every stride. The other thieves, once they had gathered themselves up, zoomed after their leader with frightened cries.

"After them!" Roger shouted as he led the charge of soldiers through the parting sea of astounded onlookers.

Once they all vanished, Alya stood and dipped her head in a satisfied nod.

"So long, "Darkblade"," the redhead murmured as she swept back into the shadows of the street.

And hopefully this time, she thought, he doesn't come back.

Ditto, sister, Trixx said proudly. That guy's got poor taste in facial hair style.

Once she was perfectly concealed within a dark corner of a deserted alley, Alya sighed with a smile and cut the magical tether between her and her pendant.

The tight bodysuit vanished in a wave of orange light, and the redhead was standing in her usual, comfortable garb again. Her hair fell back down against her shoulders, and her glasses replaced her mask.

The pendant blinked once last time before Trixx came whirling out.

Then the fox kwami pumped her fists to the skies in triumph. "Oh, yeah! That's what happens when you mess with the fox!" she exclaimed, her violet eyes gleaming. "We sure showed those amateurs, didn't we?"

Alya crossed her arms over her chest, but her smile was genuine. "We?" she asked skeptically. "I did all the work."

"True, but you wouldn't have done it without my magic," Trixx claimed. "It's what I call a "split-deal": fifty-fifty. Though I would settle for fifty-five, if you're willing."

Alya snorted another laugh. "All right, I admit it. You did good, Trixx."

The kwami's face suddenly slackened with something that looked like surprise.

Was that... a compliment? An actual, genuine compliment?

Trixx shook her head and turned away from Alya, her arms folded. "Honey, I don't do good," she said flatly. "Good is such a strong word."

"What I meant was..." Alya said with an awkward pause, "... we make a pretty good team."

Now she really had Trixx's attention.

The little vixen spun back around, blinking several times. Then she hummed to herself in thought. "Team..." she repeated, as though she was testing the word on her tongue to see if she liked the taste.

Volpina had mentioned several times that she and Trixx were partners. But even with the kwami's aid, the enchantress had always taken all the credit in the end.

But Alya… She was different. She brushed off credit and glory like bits of sand. She lived for the fun, just like Trixx. The only real difference was that Alya never worried too much about power or payback.

It almost made the fox kwami sorry that she was using the fiery thief for her own selfish reasons. Almost.

We make a pretty good team.

Finally, Trixx's ears perked up, and she shrugged. "Yeah. That doesn't sound so bad," she mused. "Alya and Trixx – the new heroes of Agreste. I kinda like it. It's starting to grow on me, you know?"

This time, Alya couldn't hold back her giggling.

Trixx, in spite of herself, smiled at that.