Fion stood quietly on a street corner for some time, before deciding to knock. She honestly wasn't sure how this was going to go down. She didn't have much that was good to say, mainly more bad news. She wished she hadn't picked a work night to do this. She was already tired and anxious.

She sighed, breath forming pale tendrils in the night air.

Time to bite the bullet, after all she'd organised this herself. No backing out now. She walked a few blocks to a fairly secluded alley and knocked upon a heavy door five times in quick succession, before slapping her palm once upon the wood. She hoped she'd remembered the correct signal.

Iris, the night manager of the Information Station, was asleep at her post, but the sharp rapping at the wood awoke her with a start.

The small window beside the door snapped open and a woman's face poked out. She looked to be about thirty, with faint laugh lines beginning to form on her thin and pointed face; her golden hair frizzed around her head like a cloud of wool, and her eyes were rimmed with purple circles - she was formerly of the Lost Moon tribe, from the trademark tattoo.

"Password," she whispered, irritably (it had been a rather nice dream).

Fion frowned. She hated the password.

"I like big hulls, and I cannot tell a fib. Any filthy sea wench worth the cut of er jib." She whispered back. "Can we please change the damn password, it's me, Gamze."

Fion stamped her feet against the cold, trying not to make too much noise. She should have moved to Mugroba, it was warm in Mugroba.

"Oh, I know it's you," said Iris, waving her hand dismissively. There was a series of clacks and snaps as a long chain of locks came undone and the door creaked open a crack, revealing a dimly lit and dusty interior.

Iris appeared at the door, a tall and lanky woman with childbearing hips. "Come on in, dearie," she said briskly, brushing off Fion's shoulders. "I had to make sure you weren't some golly in disguise. I hear they can do that, now. Steal your face. Makes it awful difficult, I tell you. Come sit by the fire."

She led Fion to what looked like a bucket of flames, somehow dimmer and bluer than usual fire but with all the regular heat, and gestured to a worn wooden stool.

"You can just wait here, I'll call for the cadet on duty," said Iris, sounding rather tired, as though she was at the tail end of a very long shift.

Fion sighed in relief. "Thank you, Iris. I hope to the gods that's not true..."



Fion sat down gratefully sat down by the fire, warming her stiff hands. She caught the fatigue in Iris' voice but thought better than to ask about it. Reminding people of their tiredness wasn't polite when they were sentries and not particularly constructive either.

"Thanks again, I shouldn't take up too much of your time." At least she hoped so.

Fion kept her hands in front of the fire, wishing she was at home with her son instead. She hoped her luck was going to be good tonight, her stomach was in knots.

Iris waved her hand and muttered some syllables of Monite, and the locks snapped back to their original positions; she hurried upstairs, her soft moccasins making no sound on the old staircase. In a moment, Fion could hear the sound of muffled voices arguing quietly.

Mr. Ceres appeared at the top of the stairs, his leather cloak billowing as he hurried downstairs. He flashed a tight smile at Fion; his grey eyes looked tired. He did not bother concealing his field with the usual spell.

"Good to see you again," he said shortly. "The news must be serious indeed to bring you here so late. I would offer you something to drink, but we haven't had a supply in a week's time..."

Sighing, he sat directly on the floor in front of the bucket of flames.

Fion had heard rumours but she'd never actually seen Ceres without his field dampened. She smiled back but her earlier nervousness, combined with the presence if a powerful field, made her feel quite intimidated.

"Hello Ceres." She said, keeping her voice level.



Fion rubbed the back of her neck with a slightly unstable hand.

"Thank you for the thought, I hope you get supplies again soon." Fion dreaded to think what might be holding them up. "I've been holding off on telling the Resistance because I wasn't sure. I think I am now. That last riot between the eyes and the crows, two weeks ago... Dom Leon started it. He's not the only one involved. He did it because a man called Alstair Murdoh suggested it."

Fion coughed a little, taking a moment to resettle her throat.

"The person I usually talk to hasn't been around and I was worried that Alstair had a few ideas about me. He saw me listening in. He organised the entire fight while chatting over drinks at the Paper Tiger. I didn't want to come here while he was still paying me attention." Fion didn't like Alstair, he scared her. "He has big plans, he wants to remake the city in his image."

Ceres listened to all Fion had to say, nodding, his face impassive.

Finally, he spoke. "Getting Eyes and Crows to fight one another is not difficult," he said grimly, running a hand through his greying hair. "But if the Seventen are getting involved in wick affairs, it means they hope to use the racial tension to distract the city from something bigger. They must know that the Eyes have been involved in the resistance. The Crows know, and that's why they've been fighting so much..."

He sighed heavily, lighting his pipe with his finger and puffing a cloud of smoke over the soft-burning fire.

"Alstair Murdoh, you say? I've never heard of the man. We need to find out what he plans on doing. If he causes a little mayhem within the ranks of the Seventen, it could work to our advantage. Do you think you will see him again, Fion?"

Fion's lip upturned.

"He's in all the time, he has a room upstairs. If he even thinks I'm involved with the resistance though, I'm not sure what he'd do. I can keep my ears pricked." Fion remembered more that needed to be said. "Leon has a ledger, full to the brim with information on all the current seventen recruits. It goes back a few years. He takes it with him everywhere. I doubt there's a good time to take it but you could try."

Fion thought about it some more. "I don't think Alstair is in there, I think he hasn't been in Vienda long. He has a girlfriend, I think. She's pretty alright though, doesn't scrimp on payment.

Ceres smiled a little; he understood that every tally counted.

"Fion," he said, seriously, "that book sounds like it could be a wealth of information. We could use it to find out what Alstair is doing, and we could get crucial information on every officer of the Seventen." He rubbed his chin, where a few day's worth of stubble was growing. "You're not on ops - you have a son to look after. But we need to get that book, and we need to do it when Dom Leon couldn't possibly suspect you. And he's a difficult man to track. We need..."

Ceres grimaced.

"We need a galdor," he said finally. "Someone to get in his inner circle. Someone he might trust."

Fion relaxed, visibly relieved. She poked at Dom as much as she was able but she wasn't suicidal enough to completely bait the bear.



Fion's gut tensed right back up again.

"Dom doesn't trust anyone. Even when he was talking to Alstair he was reserved." She tried to think through Dom's behaviour a little more critically. "It would be better if you could find a woman. He's paternalistic, even if he thinks he isn't and he's been known to show off. He likes it when people are afraid of him and he loves conflict so long as he's winning. Dom tends to go for attractiveness too, he has a wandering eye."

Fion realised she was describing traits that fit Khymarah and that Ceres likely did as well.

"No, not her! He'd eat her alive." She proclaimed, having not thought it through at all.

Ceres, not knowing Khymarah's personality very well, was slightly perplexed until he realized that Fion was thinking of her friend.

"Why would he eat her alive?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "I doubt a galdor would harm another unless he suspected they were part of the resistance. To be frank, your friend Khymarah looks like the last person I would expect."

He relit his pipe and stuffed a bit more tobacco inside, thoughtfully.

"She is green," he said. "But we have so few galdori in the Party."

((This is Fion's opinion of Dom and as such is very biased))



Fion remembered she was in the room with someone.

"I'm sorry, I was thinking aloud." Fion had been speaking to herself and blurted out her sudden epiphany without thinking. "She is unexpected but... Dom is a complete asshole. To everyone, regardless of race or gender. He just seems to hate humans and women a little more."

Even if he was strangely attractive. In a completely suicidal way. Dem was more handsome though.



Fion knew that the sensible thing would be to acknowledge the response and agree.

"Maybe I can try to take it off him. Drugging him would be easy, I can slip him something that takes a few hours to work."

She was an idiot.

"Fion, you're in a prime position for intelligence gathering," said Ceres reasonably. "We couldn't risk you giving away your position. If the book went missing, whom do you think he would blame?"

Fion blanched a little.

"He'd... He'd suspect me, even if he underestimates me he's not stupid." She kicked herself. "Although you could probably set up Murdoh to take the fall. Dom doesn't entirely trust him."

Fion quietly hated how useless she was for a moment. She got sick of waiting but it wasn't as though she could take drastic action. She couldn't risk it with Piran.

"Leon goes jogging, every morning. If you were going to pick a time eventually it should probably be then." She added, trying to think of any other information that would be helpful.

"Thank you," said Ceres seriously. "I would like for you to keep an eye on this situation, for now. Do anything you must to remain in Dom Leon's circle. Lie as little as possible. And foster mistrust of this Murdoh person; that rift may be invaluable to us in the future."

He stood, putting away his pipe and nodding to her.

"You have been a great help," he said kindly. "I will inform Serro about your efforts. I'm certain he'll be gratified."

Fion nodded in agreement.

"I can do that." She said, expression serious. "I don't know what I can do about Leon trusting me but I'll try."

Sewing mistrust in Murdoh was probably going to help that or so she hoped...



Fion blushed like she always did when praised.

"Thank you, Ceres." She wasn't sure she wanted Serro knowing anything about her at all but she wasn't about to insult his compliment.

She stood as well, following Ceres to the door leading outside.

"When should I make contact again?" She asked, presuming that they'd prefer her to stay away while she was arguably courting Dom Leon.

"Don't come back to this location for a while," he said, frowning. His mind was racing, wondering if he had inadvertently put her in danger. "You may be already followed. Leon has many men at his disposal and I would not put it past him. In fact..."

Ceres opened the door and walked Fion outside. She noticed he had cast the spell to confuse his field again.

"Act natural," he murmured. Without warning he pulled Fion to him and kissed her on the mouth.

There was no emotion in it, but Ceres was a good actor. If anyone was watching, they would have seen not a war-weathered galdor, but a normal human, and would assume Fion was having some sort of late-night tryst. Up close, however, she could tell Ceres was uncomfortable.

"I'll be seein' ye," he said, in an assumed accent, with a wry grin. "Don't let the clockers get ye down, Fi."

He shut the door behind him unceremoniously.

Fion forcefully relaxed her body language but a hand that had been about to slap Ceres 'cross the cheek was necessarily turned into a caress.

It reminded Fion of her first kiss. She hadn't known what the fuck to think then too... Was that his tongue? His hand was dangerously close to her ass. Did Ceres think she looked fat?



Fion smiled back woodenly.

"Kay. Won't." She walked away slowly for a few blocks, feet gradually beginning to speed up.

She was slamming her fist on Dem's door before she knew it.

Demkaih's eyes shot open and he listened carefully. Someone was bashing on his door. Sliding out of the covers and pulling on his jodpuhrs, he took a dagger and crept down the stairs. Stalking through the shop, he approached the door and looked out of the glass.

It was Fion.

Opening the door quickly, he pulled her inside and shut it, glancing out to be sure she was not being followed.

"What is it poppy? Not more pirates?" He suddenly wished he could tell her all about the Toy Lantern. But he kept it to himself.

"You are it for me." She said, softly and with conviction.

She rubbed at her mouth with one sleeve. Then she kissed Dem, gently but firmly, one hand cupping his cheek.

She pulled back.

"Well, I feel better now. See you tomorrow." Fion gave Dem a final peck on the cheek and walked out of his house, slowly ambling home.

The tall dark man stood dumbfounded, not entirely sure what had just happened. He watched her till she faded from view and shook his head slightly, closing the door, wishing she had stayed for just a bit longer...