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He crouched on a low wall, waiting. A long leather coat touched the ground behind him, not quite concealing the loose black pants and shirt he wore underneath. Dark glasses obscured his eyes and dark hair tumbled down around his shoulders. He wasn’t kept waiting long, as a pair of people approached him looking somewhat nervous. Perhaps they were just uncertain. One, the man, was dressed in dark red robes and his head seemed to be on fire. That was probably intentional. The other was female, of indeterminate race. She wore a sleeveless shirt and a long skirt, with brown hair held up off her neck by a pair of short sticks. It was the woman who spoke, while the man kept looking around: definitely nervous, that one was.

“Are you the blue god?” she asked. It was uncertainty in her voice.

“No,” the man in black responded, “she’s my partner. I’m the one you’re looking for, though. You can call me Janus.” He hopped off the wall, shifting his coat so that it once again fell to the ground behind him.

“So you got our missive,” the man said. It wasn’t a question.

Janus nodded. “I did. You have a problem on Turiel, as I understand. Something about the Pack.”

It was the girl who nodded, this time. “Yes. I’m Rainne Seraf, and this,” she paused to indicate the robed man, as though she could be referring to anybody else, “is Cerivan of Ignus.” Ah, Ignus. Yes, that would explain the flaming hair.

“I suspect you’ll want to be coming with me. We have an hour to get to the gate.” Janus turned and walked to the northeast. He seemed to assume they would follow him.

Hurrying to keep up, Rainne continued talking. Cerivan just seemed to be interested in warily investigating all they passed. “The troubles on Turiel started about a month ago. One of the magistrates apparently hired a few of them as mercenaries; I don’t know the details of that arrangement. However, in the middle of the job they turned—”

“I know how the Pack operates,” Janus interrupted. “I’ve dealt with them before. What would be of more interest to me is what you two bring to the table.”

“Priest,” Cerivan said. He didn’t seem interested in elaborating. Janus hoped he had some other skills; he’d never found priests to be too useful outside their churches.

The trio stopped to allow a few tunnel cars to whiz by, and while the gravity was reasserting itself Rainne placed a hand on Janus’ arm. He figured she was worried about him walking into the tube and being sucked a couple kilometres down the road. “I have some special talents that I’m sure will prove useful,” she said. Despite the vagueness of both his associates, Janus found himself not worrying about it. Surely they had useful skills; else they would have needed both him and Azurel.

It didn’t take them long to reach the closest gate. Janus stopped there, and turned to Rainne. Cerivan, being from Ignus, had obviously gated to get here. “Have you ever used a gate?” he asked Rainne. When she shook her head, he continued. “It’s a little disorienting the first time, but it’s perfectly safe. The key thing to remember is that nothing you can see has the power to hurt you.” With Rainne looking a little shaken, and Cerivan looking smug, he stepped up to the gate and put in the code for Turiel. The air above the platform shimmered and tore. Through the gate, only blue was visible. Two shades, lighter blue and a darker blue, seemed to overlap and commingle. Around the edges of the gate, the black fragments of torn space hung, fluttering slightly in an unfelt wind. “You two first,” he said.

On the other side Cerivan looked smug, most likely because Rainne was staring, wide-eyed, at the gate they had just come through. Janus got the impression those two weren’t friends. Rainne shook her head slightly as the gate closed, leaving only a brief afterimage behind.

“I told you,” Janus said, “it’s perfectly safe. We were just taking a short jaunt through near Outside. Now, a hop through far Outside… then those things can get you.” Rainne paled and Cerivan smirked. “So, where are they stationed?” he asked, abruptly changing topics to the Pack.

“South Bend,” Cerivan said, as Rainne was still working to gather her composure, “near the station to the eastern peaks.” Janus nodded. It made sense; members of the Pack preferred a warmer climate.

“Since Rainne here seems to still be a little gatesick, why don’t we take the train down?” Janus asked. “It should only take about half an hour.” Rainne weakly nodded, and Cerivan looked belligerently indifferent. Janus suspected Cerivan didn’t get along with very many people.

It was halfway through the train ride that Rainne regained her voice. Still, she spoke very quietly. “What are they?”

“Nobody’s really sure,” Janus replied. “They seem more interested in abducting people for unspeakable horrors to be done than talking to us. It’s why travel between branes isn’t done often. They can’t seem to breach the distortions that cause near Outside, though, so we’re pretty safe going through that. Assuming the calculations were done right, of course.”

“It is the domain of the gods,” Cerivan said, and Janus rolled his eyes. He had been wondering when the preaching would begin. “By their grace we can move near their domain, but there are… penalties… for entering it unbidden.”

“If those things are your gods, we need to look somewhere other than religion to find hope,” Janus said, earning a glare from Cerivan. He managed to avoid going into a tirade as to how many of the principles of dimensional physics his beliefs contradicted.

They pulled into South Bend station amidst a mildly hostile silence, and Janus was the first out the door, surveying the area. “You guys do something. I don’t know, get a drink. Discuss strategy. I need to look around.” With that, he left, heading off to the right, around the station.

“Good plan. I’ll look this way,” Cerivan said, pointing to the left. “You get a drink. You look like you could use it.”

This left Rainne by herself inside the station, standing at a refreshment bar. The clerk looked young, a few years younger than Rainne. He stared at her expectantly, as though he wasn’t being paid enough to initiate conversation. When he got impatient enough to cross his arms and look choleric, she figured any local drink would do. “I’ll take the wadu juice,” she said. It only took a couple minutes for the surly clerk to prepare her drink and take her money, after which she sat at a table where she could see the main entrance. She didn’t remember how she had arrived on Alair – where she’d met Cerivan – but surely it didn’t involve gates. The trouble was, she couldn’t think of any other way to get between the worlds – the distances were just too vast.

Janus strayed near the entrance long enough to watch Cerivan leave and Rainne take a seat. That priest wasn’t much of a team player; Janus wondered how long it had taken Rainne to persuade him they needed help. His circuit around the station took him three-fourths of the way around it before he stopped walking and seemed to disappear from view. A few metres ahead, Cerivan was conversing in low tones with a member of the Pack. They were one of the demon races, as far as anyone could tell. Mostly humanoid, with jackal heads and clawed hands and feet, all of them except one had ebon-black fur. The leader’s fur was pure white. Nobody knew his name; he was merely referred to as the Alabaster. That’s who Cerivan was apparently conspiring with.

Janus toyed with the idea of skipping in and slaying both of them, but two things made him decide it would be a bad idea. Rumour had it that the Alabaster had such a command over space that he could prevent anybody from teleporting, folding space, or even running away within ten metres. Secondly, and more important, if he killed them now he’d never know what was going on. This mission would require delicacy and finesse to unravel.

“We have an accord, then?” Cerivan asked, sounding a little too eager.

“So long as…” The Alabaster trailed off, his left ear twitching slightly. He’d thought he heard the swish of a leather coat nearby.

“No worries,” Cerivan said, oblivious to the cause of distraction. “I have everything under control.”

“Return to the girl. I have business.” The Alabaster turned his head, then. He was sure he’d sensed somebody skipping away. As usual, the ally was expendable. He’d do the real work himself.

All kinds of strange people came through this station, Rainne determined. At least a quarter of them weren’t even humanoid. The winged races were the prettiest, though. She’s not sure how many of them were from different species, and which were just variations on a common form. Perhaps Janus knew. She could ask him when he returned.

The voice by her ear should have startled her, but she had felt it coming. The cool glass floors vibrated easily at a person’s approach.

“Where’s Cerivan?” It was Janus, and by the disappointed look in his eyes he had been hoping to startle her.

“Not sure,” she said. “He said something about looking around, and went the opposite way as you.”

“That’s nice of him.” Janus sat across from her. “We’ll just have to wait until he returns, then. Until such a time, perhaps we could become slightly acquainted. Where are you from?”

Rainne tried to avoid his gaze for a couple minutes, but his attention was focused, and she couldn’t quite evade it. “I’m not sure,” she said eventually. “I only have vague memories of my childhood. It first becomes clear on Alair, about three years ago. Cerivan helped me. I’m apparently not from around here, er, there, as I wasn’t familiar with any customs. I don’t think he really likes me – I don’t think he really likes anyone – but he’s helped me out.”

Given his associations with the Pack, Janus wondered what purpose Rainne served to him. That would seem the only reason for his being so altruistic. “My story is much less interesting. I’m of the Aldrinar,” Janus said, pausing to shake his hair out of his face. Apparently his pointed ears were supposed to be highly indicative of species. “I go on missions for the Diarch, and sometimes I come out on mercenary jobs. Things like helping you and Cerivan.” Or, really, just her. But Janus didn’t want to give away Cerivan’s disloyalty so soon. That would ruin all the fun.

“Who was that partner you mentioned?” Rainne asked. Despite his claims, she thought being some kind of agent of this Diarch – she must be the leader of his people – sounded like a very interesting thing to be doing.

“Azurel? We work together sometimes. There are some situations where two agents are necessary, rather than one. DNA, for example. Well, most of the time.” It seemed extraneous to mention that the Mal’akhim had three helixes.

Janus had acquired a drink from somewhere and was sipping it, staring over Rainne’s shoulder. Someone was approaching. Surely, Rainne thought, if it was someone dangerous he’d do something. But she could feel someone walking towards their table. She wondered if there were glass floors wherever she was from. It would explain why she was so adept at understanding their vibrations.

“Done with your scouting already?” Cerivan asked. He sat next to Rainne, almost possessively. Janus hoped they weren’t intimate. It would make his eventual betrayal that much harder on her.

“I’ve found out much in a short time,” Janus said. “I hope your investigations were as fruitful?”

“Clearly not, else I wouldn’t have needed you. But I found what I was looking for.” He was bold, to state that so openly. But then again, he had no reason to suspect that he’d been found out. He didn’t almost catch Janus, like the Alabaster had. Hopefully the fiend hadn’t noticed his presence enough to identify him.

“We need a plan,” Rainne interjected. There was clearly animosity between her two partners, but she needed to hold them together long enough to deal with the Pack. They threatened the entire city of South Bend, if not more. “We need to find out where the Pack is working from.”

“First,” Janus said, “we shouldn’t refer to them by name. Surely they have non-demon servants around town, and we have no way of knowing who those people are.” Cerivan had the wisdom not to react at all to this statement. If there was anything Janus hated more than treachery, it was a stupid traitor. “It would also be best to avoid words like fiend, demon, and…” Cerivan was smirking at something. Rainne looked puzzled. And they both were looking behind him. With concentration, Janus could make out the faint high-pitched whine of a charging mage-rifle. The Alabaster had identified him. Cerivan’s smirk disappeared when Janus’ right hand starting glowing silver.

“Is something wrong?” Cerivan asked.

Rainne, still looking puzzled, answered him. “I think there’s a—”

Janus disappeared as a bolt of energy shattered the chair he’d been in. He reappeared half a metre above the Pack member who had shot at him, dropping down and grabbing the demon by its throat. It had been on the balcony above the main court, in a sniper’s position. “You’ll have to be a little quicker. Apparently your leader didn’t tell you who you were—”

An explosion below them, sending glass shards from the front wall spraying inwards and invoking screams of pain and fear from many of the patrons in the court, interrupted him. “For the wish of a dim star,” Janus said, quickly snapping the fiend’s neck. “I hate multi-layered attacks.”

Below, the Alabaster strode in, bits of glass repelled, almost magnetically, away from the ground in front of him. The leader of the Pack was confident to come alone. He went directly to the table with Rainne and Cerivan, who were both somehow unharmed. This couldn’t end well, Janus thought, and he jumped down from the balcony. That, he found, was a mistake, as he floated to the ground unnaturally slowly. He was too close to the Alabaster.

“You are discovered, priest,” the Alabaster said. “And your machinations have brought a Silver Arm to oppose me.” His eyes briefly glanced over towards Janus, still striving to reach the ground. “I take the girl now.” He reached to take Rainne by the arm, but she was just out of his reach. The Alabaster frowned, and stepped closer. Rainne was still just out of reach. He snarled and drew a short, curved blade from his belt. The Alabaster lunged at Rainne, aiming to drive the blade into her stomach, but Rainne found herself standing next to Cerivan, having dodged the knife without apparently moving.

“Bitch, your games are at an end,” Cerivan said, and struck Rainne across the face. Startled, she was unable to defend herself as the Alabaster grabbed her. He held the blade uncomfortably close to her chest as he carried her out.

Finally Janus landed and he ran over to the table. “I hope you’ve already gotten whatever you were promised.”

“You misunderstand,” Cerivan said. He was quick enough to realise that Janus must have seen his meeting with the Alabaster. “I drew him out into the open. Do you think you would have found him this quickly otherwise? I didn’t realise that you wouldn’t be strong enough to deal with him when I got him here.”

“Let us say I have my doubts. However, that is not entirely relevant. I’m going to rescue Rainne and slay the Alabaster. You’re going to help me.”

“You don’t trust me.” Cerivan was arrogant enough to sit in the chair he had occupied before the Alabaster’s entrance. “Why do you think I would be of use?”

“Either you’ve been betrayed by them now, or you’re actually interested in stopping them. Your exact motivation is unimportant. I’ll expect to see you there.” With a swish of his coat and a faint silver glow, Janus disappeared.

The Pack had set up camp on a small island just outside South Bend. Janus stood on the shore, looking out over the island. The girl, as she claimed, did have a considerably useful ability. What was more notable was the fact that she could use her own space-bending powers in the presence of the Alabaster. That would be key to defeating him. First, though, she needed rescue. It was too far across the water for him to skip, and any approaching vehicles would attract notice. That really only left one option, Janus thought, and looked up at the sky. There was just enough cloud cover to make that work.

Falling was one of the fastest ways to cross a given distance, due to the constant acceleration of gravity. Janus let go of the airship and dropped from the cover of the cloud, quickly finding himself among the treetops. A quick skip to the ground allowed him a safe landing, and he jogged towards the centre of the island. Fortunately he didn’t have to use doors; otherwise infiltrating the mansion would be difficult. As it was, he merely had to locate an empty room with a window and he had a point of ingress. Once inside, listening at doorways allowed him to move unseen through the hallways. It would disappoint Janus to find this light of security if he was dealing with anybody else. The trouble was that he was dealing with the Pack, one of the most intelligent demon races, and their leader was here. Janus could expect that the Alabaster knew he was here, knew he was going to rescue Rainne, and was preparing for the two of them to attack him. He was actually probably prepared for Cerivan to join the assault as well, seeing as how the priest had been betrayed. But Janus had different plans for Cerivan.

At the bottom of a flight of stairs, Janus stopped. There was one guard ahead, standing a cautious distance from a barred door. Wise, considering that nobody really knew what Rainne’s capabilities were. Unlike the other five, Janus couldn’t avoid this guard. The battle was short, consisting of a swishing black coat and a flurry of strikes from a silvery blade of energy. The guard was mostly dead before he realised Janus was there. Janus opened the door to find Rainne inside the small room, curled up naked on the tile floor. He really hoped the Pack hadn’t gotten to abusing her yet.

“Rainne?” he asked quietly. “Are you all right?”

She looked up at him, hope obvious on her face at the recognition of his voice. “Janus?” She struggled to her knees. She looked bruised, but Janus didn’t think she was too hurt.

“Here.” He took off his coat and put it around her shoulders. “Wear this,” he said, and took her hand to help her to her feet. He buttoned up the coat as she put her arms through the sleeves. Rainne’s hair fell around her shoulders in slight curls; Janus idly wondered why she kept it bound up the way she did.

Janus and Rainne went back upstairs to the entry hall, and Janus took a seat on one of the small couches. Rainne stared at him unbelievingly for a few moments before finding her voice.

“What are you doing?” she said. “We can’t wait here!”

“We’re missing someone, don’t you think?” Janus replied. He seemed completely unconcerned, to the point of readjusting the straps on his boots.

“Cerivan?” Her voice threatened to rise in volume from indignation, but she kept it low. “He betrayed us! He’s the reason I’m… he’s the reason all this is happening!”

Janus shook his head. “This is all happening because the Pack is a treacherous and highly intelligent group of demons. They betrayed him, and he’ll be here soon to rectify that. And,” he held up a hand to forestall Rainne’s comment, “I still need him for something. Don’t worry; I don’t plan to trust him. It’s clear we can’t do that.”

Rainne seemed to accept that explanation, although she was still agitated. Her pacing across the plush carpet left a distinct trail of footprints. They didn’t have long to wait, though, before Cerivan burst through the front door. Janus stood and faced him while Rainne just turned away angrily, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re late,” Janus said.

“You’re lucky I arrived at all,” Cerivan said with a sneer. “As you expected, though, I have unfinished business.”

“You might find that you attracted notice on your way here.”

“And you didn’t?”

Janus held up his right hand, allowing it to glow brilliantly silver for a moment. “Indeed I didn’t. I’ll leave you to the guards; I’m sure you’ll be able to handle them excellently. Rainne, let’s go.”

“Fools!” Cerivan said to the four pack members descending the stairs, mage-rifles pointed down at him. “He’s heading inside now! This is not how we had planned things!”

One of the demons looked up at his companion. It looked like he had a smile on his muzzle. “Didn’t you hear? Plan changed. You’re not part of it anymore.”

As their mage-rifles charged, Cerivan waved his arms frantically, the fire on his head wavering unsteadily from the motion. “Don’t fire those in here! He set a trap before going in. You’d better call up the Alabaster and let him know what’s happening before it’s too late.”

“How do you know where we’re going?” Rainne asked as they wound their way deeper into the compound. As far as she could tell, they seemed to be heading towards the upper floors at the centre of the building.

“I don’t,” Janus replied. “But wherever it is, we’re there.”

They stood in front of a set of large double doors, ornately carved from a dark wood. Janus leaned in to listen at them, as he had done with all the previous doors. Whatever he heard, or didn’t hear, he nodded, looking pleased. “Everything’s ready. I think it would be prudent for you to go in first.”

Opening the doors lead to a large chamber, walls covered in monitors and machinery, roof covered in windows showing the sky. Some time while they were in the building it started raining and the drops beat upon the glass, forming elaborate and ever-changing patterns on the ceiling. A series of ladders led up to catwalks suspended five metres above the floor; various control panels and small devices hung down to within reach of a person standing on the catwalks. The Alabaster stood facing away from the doors, his attention on a small screen that hung before him.

“I was told of your arrival,” he said, still not bothering to turn around.

“Why didn’t you stop us, then?” Rainne asked. The floor of the room was made of a slightly uncomfortable metal grating.

“That wasn’t part of the plan. Isn’t your champion going to join us?”

“You should know,” Janus said as he stepped into the room, “that I wasn’t hoping to surprise you.”

“A wise choice.” Now that both of them were inside, the Alabaster turned to face them. With a wave of his hand the double-doors closed. Rainne looked mildly startled at their resounding boom; Janus merely crossed his arms. His right forearm and hand were glowing very faintly silver.

“I also didn’t plan on leaving without concluding our business.”

“Perhaps you could elucidate.” The Alabaster paced back and forth, his claws making an unpleasant sound on the catwalk. “What am I doing that is important enough for a Silver Arm to interfere?”

“Your kind are not welcome in the known worlds. Your personal presence is blasphemous and disruptive. And nobody of lesser stature could remove you.” Janus walked forward, standing at the bottom of a ladder. Rainne kept up, straying a few steps behind him.

“You are half right.” A faint rumbling spread throughout the room. Rainne frowned down at the ground, shifting her weight from side to side as though this motion made the floor painful for her. “But even one such as you does not have the power to challenge me. I taught you that at the station.”

Janus grabbed Rainne by the waist and swung her up onto the ladder. With an encouraging pat on her thigh he directed her up to the catwalk.

“I can sense your presence. Don’t think this woman,” the Alabaster paused to sneer down at the girl standing boldly in front of him, “will distract my senses from your location.”

“What makes you think I can’t stand against you on my own?” Rainne asked, placing her fists on her hips defiantly. She was almost able to conceal her trembling.

The Alabaster leaned down to place his pale muzzle near her ear. His hot breath was repellent, and when he spoke flecks of saliva burned on her skin like acid. “I have claimed you once already. Do not think I won’t do so again.” As he straightened up to gaze down his muzzle at her, bright pink eyes showing malice and disdain, Rainne stumbled back a few steps, her own green eyes wide with fear.

“They say,” Janus said, abruptly appearing on the railing behind the fiend, “that your command over space is absolute. So why do you let either of us get so close to you?”

“Clearly neither of you is a threat,” the Alabaster said, not taking his gaze off Rainne. “Is this the first time you’ve failed, Silver Arm? Does it distress you to meet one of your betters?”

“Let’s say your power over the world were to fail you.” Janus sat idly on the railing, kicking his boots against the lower bar. “What weapons would you fall back on? I know you have a backup plan.”

“If that were to happen, I would fight like my men do. Isn’t that the hallmark of a good commander among lesser life-forms?” The Alabaster turned his head slightly, taking his gaze away from Rainne now that she was cowering on the floor a few metres away. “You, however, are lucky enough not to fall victim to such crude means of execution. What do you do when you are unable to brutishly gut your victims with that special blade you can form?”

“Mostly I’ll just talk until my partner figures out a way to overcome our foe.”

The Alabaster parted his muzzle in a sneer and spit at Janus, allowing the spittle to slow and come to rest in midair between them. “It looks like you chose the wrong partner. The girl wisely trembles before my might.”

“Where are we going, Alabaster?” Janus asked. “This ship took off two minutes ago.” He hopped off the railing to stand before the Alabaster; as he did so the demon’s spit resumed its course over the edge of the catwalk.

“My minions can handle the rest of the operations here. I’m going home.”

“I don’t think Rainne would deal with your home very well.” Janus rolled up his right sleeve to the elbow.

“You understand you cannot fight me, yet your simple nature leaves you no recourse other than attempted violence against your betters. How entertaining.” The Alabaster turned around, finally, to face Janus directly. “Very well. Observe the futility of all that you are.”

“It’s really simpler than that, actually.” Janus jumped forward to grab the Alabaster by his collar. The white fiend’s ears laid back on his head in annoyance. “I noticed at the station that whatever Rainne’s power is, it disrupts your own.”

“Futility,” the Alabaster said, biting at Janus’ wrist. Janus slapped the fiend’s muzzle away with his silver hand. “I cannot be slain.”

“I know,” Janus said. “We’re going for a journey, you and me. It’s a place I’ve been before, so I know I can get out again. You, on the other hand… you should hope that the nascent universes and inchoate lords of the place are stopped by your aura.”

Janus thought he saw, for a brief moment, the flicker of terror in the fiend’s eyes. “You’re bluffing,” the Alabaster said. “Nobody goes there.”

Janus nodded. He glanced over the Alabaster’s shoulder at Rainne, who was shakily getting to her feet. “I’m sorry, kid. I lied earlier – sometimes the gates go wrong.”

With a flash of silver light, Janus and the Alabaster disappeared. The flash was accompanied by a loud crack, faint wailing, and an irrepressible sense of hopelessness and cosmic futility. When Rainne went over to the spot where they faded away from, she found a thin coating of colourless, protoplasmic slime covering the catwalk and railings. Slowly recollecting her confidence and peace of mind, she descended from the catwalk and walked out of the building. Strangely, she made it out of the place without encountering anybody else. Somewhere in the back of her mind she had the feeling that she’d see Janus again.