It wasn't the first time he'd returned covered in blood. He shook off Eugene, adopting the expression of menace his men knew well. They fled out of his path as he snagged a blood pack from cold storage and locked himself in the spare, gray room he called his office.

A report cube waited on his empty desk. Valentinianus slammed the cube with a fist, biting into the pack as the report hummed and flickered across his desk as a three dimensional digital read out. The doctor's information didn't surprise him, but the confirmation left a sour after taste in his mouth. Pausing, he dropped the empty pack in the bin, pressing his hands to his eyes. Skin and muscle twitched, knitting back together. He released a breath, the painful hunger assuaged.

Valentinianus continued reading the report to the end, until one clawed hand closed around the cube and crushed it. His father was a fool. There was information he needed to relay to Mack. He would grab another blood pack before he washed and changed. It would make it easier to fall back into Eugene. And he needed to be Eugene when he returned. Not this, he could never bring this part of him to the Edgewise.

He stood and hissed at the pinch of pain on his chest. Frowning, he peeled back his shirt and coat, staring at blackened skin. A burn from the vial of blood in his pocket. He pulled the vial free, staring at it. Why? What had set it off? That was perhaps the most troubling mystery of all.

Slowly, so very slow, the burn began to fade.

"I think, you need my help," said Cesario, a flush coloring her cheeks. She couldn't quite look Calponia in the eye.

Calponia frowned. "Help with what?" She gave herself a cursory glance over, but there were no new open wounds or other small disasters.

"Ah, about that," said Mack from behind her. "Would you kit her up? Lady Agatha might want to take the risk but I would like Cal to move as freely through Arden as possible. The storage room will have everything you need."

Cesario scowled at him. "Are you sure it's a good idea to bring her?"

"Hey, right here," said Calponia.

The other woman's gaze flicked to her. "It's dangerous."

Calponia folded her arms. "And Sanguinheim was a frolicking company retreat."

Cesario flinched. "Right, but Arden is--."

"She's coming," said Mack, "the Edgewise is still recovering and the bѐte noir will slow that process down."

His words left a cold pit in Calponia's stomach.

Cesario caught the look on her face, and her scowl darkened. "You as tactful as a sledgehammer," she spat at the tavern master, pulling Calponia along into the back room.

"I don't want to be like this," said Calponia, clenching her hands into fists. The action cracked the drying Ambrosia gel, revealing the shiny ribbon of fresh scar tissue swirling up her arm. The scents of rich whiskey and bitter beer rose, swamping the faint foulness of the Ambrosia gel. Calponia jumped as the dried gel sloughed off, all at once, the flakes vanishing before they hit the floor as hops tinted air ruffled her hair.

"You know the Edgewise doesn't consider you a burden," said Cesario, expectantly watching the door. "Neither does Mack, which he will realize when he pulls his head out of his arse."

"Yeah, but--"

Cesario held up a silencing finger. "Give it three, two, one--"

Mack burst through the door, looking thunderous. "You are not a burden," he snapped.

Cesario clapped her hands. "Wording, Mack, wording. Take a moment to explain while I freshen up."

For the first time, Calponia took in the room. She blinked. In the numerous times she'd ducked back here, the room was nothing more than a large coat closet, with a few worn aprons on hooks, several empty lockers, and one occupied with Mack's usual duster jacket. Now, they faced what looked like the backstage of an old fashioned opera house. Elaborate costumes full of ruffs and lace hung from standing racks, a vanity mirror station stood cluttered with jars of paste, powders, and head shaped mannequins covered in fake facial hair. One beard and mustache set suspiciously matched Calponia's dark hair color.

Before she could ask about it, Cesario pulled a folded paper screen from the corner, using the partition to give Calponia and Mack quasi-privacy.

"Pretend I am not here," sang the other woman, as things began to clatter and rustle on the other side of the screen.

"Cal," said Mack, his voice soft.

Hesitantly, she looked at him. "Please explain, because I would rather leave than be a burden." She took a steadying breath. "I refuse to be a burden, not anymore." And she meant it. In the past couple weeks, Calponia survived the loss of her home, pitiful as it was. She'd learned to take the bizarre clientele and nightly shenanigans of the Edgewise in stride. She'd survived her terrifying ordeal on Sanguinheim and now deadly bar brawl. She'd beaten a zombie into submission with a bottle of booze. Dammit, she could handle whatever Cesario's world threw at her.

"As my apprentice, you must come along, and I apologize for my unfortunate wording. I should have told you, truthfully, no one can stay in the Edgewise right now, not even the Munch, and I don't think I've kicked him out in three years." Mack sighed. "The only one I can risk leaving behind is Prospero, and he's unconscious."

Calponia frowned. "Does the bѐte noir hurt the Edgewise?"

Mack's expression turned thoughtful. "Not the way you would think." He tugged on his beard. "The Edgewise is a safe haven. It's the port in a multi-dimensional storm. It doesn't exist in any true location, and it exists in any location. Only those who need its protections can find the door. Each patron who crosses the threshold requires the Edgewise to expend energy to extend those protections around them. Some more than others, but normally, the tavern can handle it all without issue." He raised a brow. "Even when someone accidentally leaves the door open."

Her cheeks burned. Her first night on the job, such an incident happened, allowing a rather unsavory bounty hunter to sneak in, intent on capturing the Munch. It was certainly her most memorable first day. "The door wasn't open this time."

"No," said Mack, "No it wasn't." She looked up into his face. His eyes looked sunken, surrounded by shadow, the blue deep as a starless sky at night. Calponia felt a sliver of unease at his expression, glimpsing the part of Mack that wasn't so human.

"No one has breached the walls before, and I will not let it happen again." That bottomless gaze bore into her, pinning her in place. "And I will need your help to make sure of that."

Calponia nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

The partition snapped back with a flourish. Calponia squeaked. The tension drained from the moment. Both of them stared at the young man in Shakespearian garb that emerged from behind the screen.

Calponia couldn't stop staring. "Cesario?"

The young man bowed to her, winking with Cesario's warm brown eyes. Calponia never realized how relaxed and unguarded the woman was in the shelter of the Edgewise until now.

"Your turn," said Cesario, gesturing to the stool behind her.

"Go on, I'll be at the bar," said Mack, what looked dangerously close to a smirk on his lips. He ducked out of the room before Calponia could throw something at him.

She swallowed, letting Cesario herd her to the stool. "What now?"

"Well, ah, first we need to, um..."

Calponia knew she was in trouble when Cesario blushed to the tips of her ears.

"What is it?"

"We have to bind your bosoms."

The vampire waited for him at the bar, staring down a glass of blood whiskey without drinking.

"I can't come with you," said Eugene. "Least not right away. I need to sort out matters at home."

The bodies of the zealots were already gone, surprising, since Mack didn't think the Edgewise was up for housekeeping.

"The vampire tossed them out into the fog," said Lady Agatha, unhooking the chainmail bustle around her skirts. "Quite efficient."

"I'm afraid I must also part ways," drawled Ravelock, tucking a full bottle of well aged bourbon under one battered arm. "I feel a storm coming. I want to check on the ship."

"Would you allow the Munch to accompany you?" The man in question harrumphed from his corner of the room.

Ravelock shrugged. "Never one to turn down a good shot," said the captain. His words somewhat mollified the Munch's ire as the small man stumped across the room.

"'Ow long?" On his feet, the Munch barely cleared the pirate's waist. Beneath his wiry brows, he cast a small longing glance to his corner and lumpy chair.

"No more than a day or so," said Mack. If the Edgewise took longer than that to recover, then they were in real trouble.

"Right then," said Ravelock, raising the bottle in mock salute. "Fair winds and smooth seas, you lot."

"Full sails, Captain," said Mack. He waited until the door closed behind the two before turning his attention back to the vampire. "You wouldn't come here just to tell me that. What did you find out?"

Eugene fiddled absently with an iron tube hanging from his neck. "I had my sources look into the incursion on Sanguinheim," he said.

"It was a rather neat pile of dead things," said Mack, craving a drink himself and cursing the need for a clear head. "How high up does it go?"

There was a pause as the vampire's eyes slid to Lady Agatha, who continued to strip away chainmail with practiced focus.

Eugene sighed. "To the ruling family," he said."Someone granted them permission to tear that hole in reality."

Mack inhaled through his nose. "How much trouble will this make for you?"

"Nothing I haven't dealt with before," said the vampire, taking a sip from his drink at last. "I will join you in Arden as soon as I can."

"Last I heard, the Blood Empire was as welcome on Arden as I am," said Lady Agatha, unrolling her silk sleeves down to her wrist.

Eugene gave her a bitter smile. "We aren't welcome most places," he said, fingers curling around the iron tube. "There was something in the report you should know."

"I had an inkling that was the case," said Mack.

"The perpetrator kept his identity concealed but the Emperor would not allow him to proceed with his schemes without revealing something in return." The vampire watched Mack's face as he spoke. "They are looking for the Heart of Ways."

The was a beat of silence. The rafters softly groaned overhead.

A frowned creased Lady Agatha's brow. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing good," said Mack. The vampire looked supremely dissatisfied with the tavern master's lack of explanation. Tough, there were some things he could not share. "Anything else?"

Guilt flared across that too pale face. Fingers tightened around the iron tube, concealing it from view. When had he started wearing that? "Uh, about Calponia--"

"Coo, what did I miss? Where is everyone?"

Mack glanced up at the unmistakable warble of Mr. Henderson. "Have you been up there this whole time?"

The old man hobbled down the stairs, looking sheepish. "Fraid I may of fallen asleep in one of those lovely chairs." He stretched, groaning at the pop of his spine. "Is the kettle on?"

Mack pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling for patience. "No, you aren't staying, not even for a cup of tea." He looked up in time to catch the flare of irritation on Henderson's weathered features. No, not irritation, anger, sharp and gone in an instant. "No one is."

Whatever he'd seen on Henderson's face had vanished. He wondered if it was a trick of the light as the old man gave him a weary smile.

"I am much too old for your adventures." He leaned heavily on his cane, tottering across the room. "Where you lot headed now?"

"Arden," said Lady Agatha, tugging the last fold of silk into place. A pile of chainmail littered the table, her sword and a belt of daggers lying beside it. Lady Agatha now wore a cream white dress, that covered her from neck to ankle. It was simple, without the flare of Arden's aristocratic class but perfectly proper.

Henderson made a face. "You think it's a good idea to take Calponia there?"

"Not you too," said Cal from behind them. Henderson snorted. It was Mack's only warning.

He managed to keep a straight face as Cesario followed her out. "This was the best you could do?"

The other woman cringed.

"Hey!" Calponia snapped, shoving her ruff down to point a finger in Mack's face. "It's not that bad. I think I look fine." She tugged at her lopsided cuffs.

Eugene wisely slid a hand over his mouth while Lady Agatha stepped forward to appraise her. "The, uh, facial hair is a bit off," she said with incredible tact.

Mack didn't have that level of restraint. "You look like a girl pretending to be a boy."

Calponia raised a brow. "I could have sworn that is what we were trying to do here."

Mack pointed at Cesario. "She looks like a man. She'd fool anybody on the street, and close scrutiny." He made at face at the patches of scruff dangling precariously off Cal's chin. "I'm not sure you'd fool my blind gram."

Calponia opened and closed her mouth several times in speechless outrage. A patch of fuzz slid off her jaw and hit the floor with a wet smack. Mack raised a brow.

"It itches terribly," snarled Calponia.

Mack turned to Cesario, who made a helpless gesture.

"Fortunately," said Henderson, "Most of Arden's citizen's are skilled at ignoring anything unsavory, no matter how obvious."

"For the love of Mike, I'll fix it," she snapped, scooping the piece of beard and paste off the floor before she stomped back into the storage room.

Lady Agatha tilted her head. "Who is Mike?"

"It's an expression," said Mack, nodding at Henderson. "She'll be fine. I'll contact you when we return."

A flicker of flint returned to the old man's eyes but he nodded and took his leave.

Eugene removed his hand from his mouth, his nose wrinkled in disdain. "He smells like a musty tea bag."

"You don't smell so hot either," said Mack. He turned to the anxious transvestite. "Did you at least brief her what to expect on Arden?"

"Hard to get a word in through the whining."