Gwen stood at the base of the castle, beneath the light of the fractured moons. Snow snaked through the air, coiling around her like a Medusan halo illuminated by the cosmic wrath of her Star. With one foot, she approached the Castle, black iron beneath the ever-night. She lowered the other foot and began her journey inside. 

The door opened for her, like it had been waiting. 

Iseult played on the first floor, making her dead pets dance across the ground. Gwen wasted no time and put a bullet in the child’s brain. Red stained the black and white, and Gwen’s Star thrummed with light that drowned out everything. The gunshot carried through the castle, up its half-dozen floors all the way to the roof where her father stood in wait. 

Arthur came barreling down the stairs, awash with the light of his crimson red Star. Two necromancers stood in the library, channeling the lifeblood of the universe, aiming at each other. Gwen tossed away her gun and danced around her brother as he hacked and slashed and stabbed, but she avoided and evaded each blow. Finally, she spoke the words, and white light flooded her hand. She palmed her elder brother’s face, and levees holding in his lifeforce crumbled. He dropped dead, a dried, withered husk bathing in the blood of their younger sister.

Gwen smiled, picked back up her gun, and ascended the spiral staircase up to the roof. Two down, five to go. 

***

A train barrelled through the Void, driven by a man smoking a cigarillo. It went on and on, the only indicator of a world outside the endless darkness.

The Storm on the Horizon smiled at Lacy as they floated in the dark above the train. The Storm wore a tweed skirt suit from the 1940s, with a white blouse concealed beneath big round buttons. She wore a brown tam hat, her hair was tied back in elaborately pinned waves, and immaculate makeup adorned her face. Black leather gloves completed the ensemble, and she brushed Lacy’s face with her hand. 

“You look nice,” Lacy said. 

“It’s because you accepted me.”

“I didn’t accept you, I accepted the Star. You’re not the Star.”

“How do you know?”

Lacy pointed her hand up, to the blue orb hanging directly above them. 

“Ah, I see your point,” the Storm said. “In fairness to me, I never said I was the Star.”

“No. You’re me. You look like this now because I started accepting myself, started looking more like myself. You’re a reflection of me. Of my Destiny.”

“Only if I’m lucky. And if you’re lucky. Now that I look like this, you’re probably a lot more interested in being me.”

“I’ll get there my way, not yours,” Lacy said. 

***

An unfamiliar ceiling hung overhead.  

Lacy’s eyes were wide as she took in the sight of the white tiles. The walls around her were painted green, and the floor was hardwood-stained dark brown. A thick blue blanket draped across her chest while she rested atop an overly soft mattress and an overly firm pillow. Her arms and legs were rich with a hideous, wonderful pain; her bones were heavy as iron, and yet they were stronger and sturdier than before. She made fists, curled her toes, just to reassure herself she still could. She looked around, and saw she was situated next to a curtained window. To her left was another bed, atop which Gwen sat up straight with her legs crossed, reading a paperback novel titled Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrel. 

“Hm,” Lacy said, her throat dry. 

“You’re awake!” Gwen said, putting her book down and leaning forward. She wore a black tank-top and jean shorts, and her hair was dyed dark brown and chopped into a short pixie with bangs swept into a steep left part. Her eyebrows, newly darkened, were filled-in, and she wore a darker red on her lips than usual. “How, uh, how are you doing?”

“I feel like hell,” Lacy said, sitting up. She blinked. “Your hair looks good.” She blinked again. “Where are we?”

“We’re in a motel a few miles out of Traverse City,” Gwen said. “And thank you. I thought it would be… Prudent to make a change, given our present circumstances.”

“Which are?”

“So… That lightning you used?”

“Yes?” Lacy said, closing her eyes and gathering the bedding into her fists. 

“You, uh, started a small forest fire. The good news is that because of the rain and quick response time, nobody died. The bad news is you accidently destroyed your and Danny’s house.”

“Oh.” 

“And also the police think you and Danny are responsible for all those dead bodies on your property- which they don’t realize are ghouls.” 

“Oh.”

“And, uh, I’m also a person of interest due to them finding my DNA at the crime scene.”

Lacy fell backwards onto her bed, pulled a pillow over her face, and screamed into it. 

“Lacy, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” she said through the pillow. “I’m homeless. I’m a homeless tranny. And I’m a fugitive from the law. I’ve literally had nightmares about this.”
“Hey, I’m homeless too. It’s not all about you.” Danny’s voice came from the floor. He sat up from his pile of pillows and blankets arranged in a makeshift bed. It took her a moment to match the voice with the face: he’d shaved. Completely- not a trace of facial hair on him. His messy head of brown locks was also trimmed into a shorter, neater crop. Lacy hadn’t seen him clean-shaven since high school- literally the day they’d graduated he’d started growing the beard he’d been denied for the past four years. It was jarring. 

“Oh come on, it doesn’t look that bad,” Danny said. 

“It doesn’t,” Lacy said. “It doesn’t at all. It’s just a bit shocking.”

“Imagine how I feel,” Danny said.

“Touche.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About a week,” Gwen said.

“What?!”

“You, uh, overexerted yourself. Like I said before, magecraft is as much physical as metaphysical.”

“Gotcha. Gotcha.” Lacy turned to Danny, “How, uh, how are you holding up?”

“Well, my life has been totally uprooted.”

Shit. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I mean, it’s a little my fault.”

“How?”

Lacy gulped, breathed in through her nose. “I spent ten years ignoring this whole situation hoping it would go away on its own, and now that that’s not happening I’m flailing around desperately trying to not die. And I’ve dragged you into it.”

Danny laid back on his pile of pillows and stared at the ceiling. “I forgive you.”

Lacy gulped. Then stared directly ahead. Then glanced over at Gwen, who gave her a sympathetic look. Finally, Lacy pinched the bridge of her nose and looked down. “Okay. So how did we get here, exactly? Gwen’s car was fucked to death by a tree.”

“There’s an image,” Gwen said, rubbing her brow. 

“My truck,” Danny said. 

“And have we been here the whole time?”

Gwen said, “No, we’ve moved a few times. Heading out in the night, finding motels in the middle of nowhere and crashing there until we move again.”

Lacy stared at the ceiling again. She tapped her hand to her non-existent breast and allowed her Star to emerge. It floated above her, and she stared directly into the cerulean light. Her rusty limbs began to wake up, and the fog cleared from her brain. “No going back now, is there? No more hiding?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Shit,” Lacy exhaled. “Now what?”

“Well, now we take stock of the situation. Also, we give you a makeover.”

“Hm?”

“A disguise, Lacy. Come on. Let’s see if we can do something with your hair.”

Lacy scrambled beneath the covers of the bed. “No.”

“Lacy-”

“Don’t cut my hair. Please don’t cut my hair- please don’t-”

“Lacy!” Gwen said. “We’re not disguising you as a boy. That would be ridiculous. And I’m not gonna cut your hair as short as mine, either. That’d be counterproductive.”

She untensed, and beneath the covers said, “Okay. Fine.”

“Great. Now get up. I’ll fill you in.”

With that, Lacy ripped herself out of bed. Danny laid back in his makeshift cot and grabbed a paperback novel titled The Dragon Reborn off the floor, thumbed through to a dog-eared page halfway into its considerable bulk. 

Lacy followed Gwen into the bathroom. Gwen handed Lacy a hair-tie and a shower cap, instructed her to gather her mane inside it, and handed her a vial of orange-red liquid. 

“What’s this?” Lacy asked. 

“Cure for body and facial hair. Permanently.”

Lacy’s eyes went wide. “You’re serious?”

“Kills the follicle.”

“Is this a necromancy thing?”

Gwen nodded, and smiled with evident self-satisfaction. “Developed it with a friend of mine, Isabella. I like practical purposes for magic. You hop into the shower and apply that where you can, then rinse off. When you’re done, I’ll get your back for you, and then we can work on your tresses. Sounds good?”

Lacy nodded, then obliged. Gwen left the bathroom, then Lacy stripped and climbed into the rectangular shower. Her beard had grown thick while she was comatose, and a fresh garden of body hair had sprouted. She spread the cold, viscous liquid over her skin, starting with her face, then her neck, down her chest and over her arms. Her groin and legs came next, and after a few minutes of mild burning beneath her itchy skin, she turned on the shower and let the cold water wash over her. A massive pile of short brown hair fell to the shower floor and went down the drain, the potion accompanying it without resistance. The water turned from cold to hot, and Lacy drank in the relief on her skin.

When that was done, Gwen spread the potion over Lacy’s back. After rinsing that off in the shower, Lacy stepped out, scrubbed her hands clean, and toweled herself off. She looked at herself in the mirror, denuded of hair, this time forever. Her skin breathed with gentle relief now that it was free and clean. No going back, she thought with a smile. 

After that, Gwen re-entered yet again with a plastic folding chair. She set it in front of the sink, and sat Lacy down and lowered the younger girl’s head into the basin. She dumped a pitcher of cold water onto Lacy’s head. Lacy twitched furiously. 

“Okay, so here’s the sitch, best I can tell,” Gwen said, brushing through Lacy’s soaking hair. “We are currently being pursued by the FBI on suspicion of domestic terrorism.”

“Oh,” Lacy said, dread pumping through her stomach and intestines. 

“It’s not just us they’re looking for, though. Ghoul attacks have been on the rise ever since that day we went hunting. Mostly in smaller cities.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. So whatever this is, something big is happening.”

“And you still think it has something to do with your family?”

Lacy saw Gwen nod from her upside-down angle in the bathroom mirror. Gwen then took a bottle of black dye from the counter. “Do you trust me?”

Lacy gulped, and then nodded. 

Gwen lathered the dye through Lacy’s hair. It burned as she worked it through each strand, darkening the color. “The ghouls are generally accompanied by hooded figures in robes. The robes tend to have sigils on the back. Specifically, my family’s crest.” Gwen placed the paintbrush on the counter, removed her latex gloves, and plugged a hairdryer into the outlet. She turned it on and started spraying hot heat onto Lacy’s now-black hair. “This has my father written all over it. Trouble is, nobody’s seen or heard from him in years. Lean your head forward for me?”

Lacy obliged. “So what’s the plan?”

Gwen started drying the back of Lacy’s head. “We’re gonna meet up with some friends of mine, and then we’re gonna check out one of my family’s schools, kick in the doors and demand some answers.”

“Okay,” Lacy said. “Count me in.”

“Thought so,” Gwen smirked.

“How do you do this so often?” Lacy asked, gesturing to her hair.

“Oh, my hair takes the dye really well. It’s pretty light.”

Lacy thought back to three weeks ago, when Gwen’s long blonde hair seemed downright platinum- particularly at the roots. 

“Okay, so, what do you want to know?” Gwen asked. 

“About?”

“Anything. Magic, history- anything. Seems like as good a time as any.”

“Shit, um,” Lacy started, “How old are you?”

Gwen cocked an eyebrow.

“I just… I realized I’m not actually sure.”

“If you must know, I’m thirty-two,” Gwen said. “I was born in Fairbanks, Alaska. As I said before, I’m the third of seven kids, and as far as I know I’m the only one of them left.”

Guilt and shame tore through Lacy. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Gwen said. “Mostly it’s my dad’s fault.”

“Tell me about him.”

Gwen sighed. “Well, my earliest memory of him is him reanimating a corpse in the graveyard behind our house, getting it to desecrate his own grave.”

“That… Sounds…”

“Traumatic, yes. Where to even begin.”

“If you don’t wanna talk about it…”

Gwen didn’t respond.

“Gwen?”

“I’m sorry,” Gwen said. “I’m actually not ready to talk about that just yet. Is there anything else you want to know about?”

“Tell me about the Sovereignty.”

Gwen gulped, then nodded. “They were founded sometime during the early Middle Ages, around the reign of Charlemange. It’s generally accepted that they came together out of wariness of Charlemange’s growing empire, and his tendency to round up mages for execution- of course, there’s just as much documentation to suggest they came together hoping to form their own empire.”

“So what stopped them?”

“In-fighting. Which is basically what’s always stopped them from getting literally anything done.”

“They seriously can’t stop going after each other?”

“Have you ever noticed how if you sit a bunch of people at a table together for an hour with a specific task, they’ll spend most of that time yelling about who gets to be in charge?”

Lacy blinked. “Huh- yeah, that’s true.”

“Especially when more than one of the people involved have significant egos- and when the people involved are literal aristocracy, landed gentry, and scholars, there’s so much ego that there’s hardly enough room at the table for the people. And that’s without getting into the part where they’re all sorcerers.”

“I get the distinct sense that phenomenal cosmic power does not generally make for humble individuals.”

“You are correct, madam,” Gwen said. She picked a pair of scissors off of the counter. “Now comes the fun part.”

Gwen began snipping away at Lacy’s hair. Part of Lacy remembered all the traumatic incidents of her youth involving her parents dragging her to a barber shop for a buzz cut every few months- they seemed convinced her having long hair meant she would become a stoner. Lacy never commented on the irony of two drunks saying that. She pushed it aside- she trusted Gwen. She didn’t trust herself to not look like a boy when it was all over, but she trusted Gwen. 

Gwen continued, “On both sides, my family is among the oldest of the Sovereignty- House Albrecht goes back to the very beginning, same with House Koenig on my mom’s end. Most of the other founding families have died off or lost all their magic. Something to do with the walls between the worlds- the walls keeping out the horrors beyond our reality, the elves and the other things that lurk in the dark, keep getting bigger and stronger, restricting the flow of magic, slowly cutting us off bit by bit. Fewer and fewer mages are born to each generation- and that’s only made the Sovereignty’s grip grow tighter on the magical world. Try to control all the world’s mages, like only they can teach you how to use magic responsibly, like anything else is some sort of grave sin.”

Gwen motioned for Lacy to sit up, and then began trimming the back of her hair. After a few minutes of this, Lacy turned around to get a look at it, but Gwen put a hand on her shoulder and wagged a finger. “Not yet.”

“Why not.”

“Because,” Gwen said, brushing Lacy’s hair over her face and readying the scissors. 

“Oh God, no, please- anything but that-”

“You’ll look gorgeous, I promise. You’ve got the face for it- most women don’t, you should count yourself lucky.”

“... Alright, fine.”

Gwen spent ten minutes chopping heavy bangs into place over Lacy’s forehead. The hair covered her brow in a large mass that reached just above her eyes. Lacy tried once more to look, but Gwen stopped her.

“We’re still not done?” Lacy asked.

 Gwen held up a small brush and the bottle of dye. Then she raised her eyebrows up and down several times rapidly. “Beauty is pain.”

Lacy’s caterpillar-brows shot up. “Oh God.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Then why-”

“Because we’re on the run, and it changes the way your face comes together- between that and the hair, you’ll be a lot harder to recognize. And come on- Danny let me clean up his unibrow for him.”

From over inside the main room, Danny said, “It’s true. All it took was three beers to placate me. We must all make sacrifices in these trying times.”

“Fuck.”

Lacy leaned back again while the paste was spread over her massive eyebrows. She tried not to groan.

“But what’s the point of it all?” Lacy asked. “What’s the point of a council? Of schools? What’s the end goal?”

“It varies, depending on the House, the person, the time period. Staying hidden at all cost has historically been at the top of the list for most of them, though,” Gwen said. She retrieved a pair of tweezers from the counter. “You ready?”

“No,” Lacy winced. “Let’s do it.” 

It stung. Individual hairs were plucked, and she felt the raw skin beneath the brows taking in air and light they hadn’t before. Lacy groaned and drew her fingers into fists. “I still don’t understand,” Lacy said. 

“Which part?”

“The part where they keep themselves a secret from everyone- they can do magic.”

“Did you feel any particular desire to tell anyone about your powers when they manifested?” Gwen asked. 

“Well, no. But that’s different. I mean historically, why are they so desperate to stay hidden? Why didn’t they just reveal themselves?”

Gwen replied, “And when would they have done this? In antiquity, when there were so few people and the world was so small it would have made no difference? In medieval Europe, when witch-burnings constituted weekend entertainment? When the Mongols were rampaging across Asia, destroying any and all threats? Or by the modern era, after literal witch hunts had finally stopped happening, but by then you’ve gotten so used to living in the shadows that why would you stop? It’s been going on so long that it’s just the way things have always been done- at least for some of them.”

“And for others?” Lacy asked. 

“Staying hidden means you don’t have to be held accountable for anything. That really appeals to the rampaging ego of the average mage,” Gwen said. 

“Christ.”

“Yeah. Though, based on recent events, I’m starting to think they’re reconsidering practice. They’re getting… Louder, at the very least. And not in a sloppy way- in a way that feels pretty deliberate. Calculated, even.”
“Okay, so that’s them. What about the monster hunters?” Lacy asked. 

“The Damocles Guild?”

“Yeah.”

“Fffff well… Supposedly, it was founded in Lichtenstein by the Roman Emperor Claudius after he inherited his nephew Caligula’s war on Neptune- the sea god, not the planet- which then extended into a war against any and all sea monsters.”

“What?” Lacy said in monotone.

“I have no idea if that’s true or not, but the upper brass at the Guild insists it is.”

“I understood… Some of those words.”

Gwen took a deep breath. “So the Roman Empire existed from-”

“I know what the Roman Empire is!”

“Do you?” Danny said. “I seem to recall you getting a D minus in world history.”

“Still a passing grade- fuck off!” Lacy said. 

Gwen chuckled. “Basically, some crazy Roman guys recruited people into their war with sea monsters- Neptune and his ilk at first, but then that expanded to other sea monsters like Jormungandr, umibozu, and the Fomor. Then that expands to their allies- other monsters throughout the world: banshees, sphinx, Rakshasa, all manner of yokai, you name it.”

“And ghouls.”

“Ghouls proved to be the biggest problem, yes.”

“And what about Sovereignty? What’s their take on the Guild?”

“They don’t get along,” Gwen said. “The Guild is, frankly, a bit of a shit show these days, and their feud with the Sovereignty is a huge part of it. A lot of the time the two wind up getting into skirmishes with each other, though as the world’s changed this has become a less viable option- you can’t really have a proper duel these days without getting noticed, unless you have it in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.”

“You mean like where we are right now?”

Gwen snapped her fingers. “Now you’re getting it.” 

“And I’m guessing they haven’t just full-on gone to war because of that too? That and, uh, not enough manpower?”

“Yup. Or the part where if they did have the manpower we’re talking about the two big supernatural factions on the planet- if they ever really went whole hog on each other they’d probably reduce the world to a cinder in the process.”

“But… Isn’t what we’re doing-”

“Not quite. I’m not actually in the Guild.”

“You’re not?”

Gwen took out her makeup kit and brushes. She began applying foundation to Lacy’s face, and it tickled her skin. “No, there’s no way they would ever have me. Considering my last name and my family history, the only way they’d ever take me is if they could lock me in a cage and pump me for information for the rest of my natural life. So I’ve never officially joined up. And honestly, I’m okay with that. Avoids a lot of bullshit. And membership fees. And inspections. License renewals. Obnoxious middle managers.” Gwen took a tube of red lipstick and held it to Lacy’s mouth. “Pop your lips for me.”

Lacy obliged. “So then how do you find monsters to hunt?” 

“I have some contacts on the inside of the Guild.”

“Your friends?”

“And my boyfriend. Close your eyes for me?” Gwen brushed eyeshadow over Lacy’s eyelids. “His name’s Quentin. You’ll meet him soon. Same with the others.” 

“How’d you meet these people, anyway?”

“Uh… ffff well it’s a long story, but the short version is that I met them on the job. I met Quentin before the other two, and we hit it off pretty quick. He introduced me to his friends Joshua and Isabella- you’ll like Isabella. You two have a bit in common.”

“We do?”

“Yeah, she’s trans too.”

Lacy blinked. “R-really?”

“Yeah. She’s a couple years older than you, I wanna say started transitioning when she was a teenager. I’ll warn you now, she’s probably gonna hit on you. You’re her type,” Gwen said. 

Lacy’s face burned beet-red.

“Is that a good blush or a bad blush?” Gwen giggled.

“Mmm.”

“Not an answer.”

“Mmmmmmm.”

“She’s flustered- it’s ‘cause she’s too gay to function,” Danny shouted. 

“Aaahhh now I see.”

“Danny what the hell?!” Lacy said. 

“Love you too!”

“Goddammit,” Lacy said. 

“I’ll tell her to go easy on you,” Gwen said. “We’re done, if you’d like to take a look.”

Lacy nodded, then gulped and stood up and turned around. She saw another girl in the mirror, one with jet black hair arranged into a collar-length ‘do with heavy bangs. She had thin, arched eyebrows in a matching shade, and she wore dark red lipstick and dark eyeshadow- a bit of color to off-set the paleness of her skin. Lacy stared at the other girl, and she held out a hand and pressed it to the mirror, her mouth refusing to close. Her hand touched the glass, and she recognized the girl as herself. She had to stop herself from crying, not out of embarrassment but so that her makeup wouldn’t run.

“You like?” Gwen said, smiling thoughtfully. 

“I love,” Lacy said. “I love it! Thank you!”

For a few more hours they were able to relax. They read their books, and Lacy thumbed through one titled The King Of Elfland’s Daughter. When it was done, she put it down and supposed it was the best book she’d ever read, which she said aloud. 

“Isn’t it the first book you’ve read besides the Bible or a technical manual?” Danny said.

Lacy threw a pillow at him. It hit him in the chest, and he fell over in an exaggerated motion while groaning loudly. Gwen, from atop her bed, chuckled. 

“You picked a good one to start with at least,” Danny said, still lying flat. 

“Good to know,” Lacy smiled. 

After that, they ordered room service: Gwen a tuna melt with chips, Danny a medium-rare burger with fries, and Lacy a chicken salad sandwich and two enormous chocolate chip cookies. They sat on their beds, and they flicked through the television until they found a movie Danny and Gwen had both seen about a guy who desperately wanted a new rug. It was pretty funny. The movie wrapped, and their food was finished, and the hour had grown late and dark, so they packed their bags and they checked out and they drove. 

Lacy sat in the backseat of Danny’s truck. Their scant possessions were assembled in the trunk, and the night extended before them along the open road as they plunged into the unknown. Lacy’s fear of the world, fear of being a part of it, fear of being seen by it, swelled, but the people in front of her kept it at bay. She looked up at the night sky, and felt her Star inside her chest. She closed her eyes and smiled as she breathed in the world around her.