Mister Tyson sighed as he pulled his white suit over his shoulders and straightened his white tie. To be called in the middle of the day for an emergency was beneath him. The Knuckles could handle any problems. However, that didn't change the fact that it was an order.

Click.

He stepped out into the castle's cold and dark hallway before closing the door behind him and starting down to the meeting hall. He was already late, but it would be alright. He was the life of the party, after all.

He adjusted the cuffs on his sleeves as he walked down the hall toward an orange light at the end of the tunnel. All the Fingers had a room in the keep when they weren't on duty, and the summons had called for all the Fingers. He probably wouldn't even be the last one to arrive.

The thought was a vain succor when he came around the bend to the crackling firelight. All five seats around the long table were filled through the open door, save two. Mister Tyson gulped down the lump in his throat. He wasn't the latest, but he was close. However, Miss Malone hadn't arrived yet, so the Fingers would be the only ones to know.

He stepped in and sat near the front of the table, closest to the fireplace. Mister Deadman's seat, furthest from the fire, was empty. The rest were occupied.

In the seat across from Mister Tyson was a bald man in a pinstripe suit. He had long whiskers as a mustache and had honed his nails to sharp edges. That was Mister Foley, a Finger who could manipulate wind into scything blades.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Beside him, a pale woman in a long black form-fitting dress with a wide-brimmed circular hat sat, a finger suspended above her teacup as she let water drip down. The water had no apparent source but also didn't stop. She was Miss Brooke, a Finger made entirely from water who could manipulate the element to devastating effect.

Beside Mister Tyson was the final finger, who had a womanly shape, though no humanoid features besides her basic form. Her limbs were twisted vines, and her head was a bulbous red orb. A fiery red leaf wrapped around her body in the form of a dress. She was Miss Glory, and he was uncertain if she was a plant brought to life or a woman who had become a plant.

"I like your new form," Miss Brooke said, looking him up and down as he rested back into his seat. I think you were a woman the last time I saw you, but now you're going for a strapping young man."

"It makes it easier to keep tabs on the throne," Mister Tyson said. "The king's newly retained servant doesn't raise eyebrows with visitors."

"I bet you play that role well," Miss Brooke smiled, running her finger around the lip of her cup as more droplets fell in.

"A viper takes on many forms," Miss Glory's voice emanated from her bulb. "But beneath its skin, it is the same venomous snake."

Mister Tyson favored her with a gleaming glare and a crooked smile. He clasped his hands before himself as he leaned forward onto the table. They were all here except for Mister Deadman, so surely one of them knew why.

"Do we know what the emergency is for this meeting?" Mister Tyson asked. "I had just started reading with a fine glass of wine when the messenger knocked on my door."

Clack. Clack.

"And where's Deadman?" Mister Foley tapped his fingertips together as his eyes roved the room like scurrying rats. "He's never late for a meeting."

Mister Tyson raised an eyebrow. Mister Foley wasn't wrong; Mister Tyson would always show up fashionably late for a meeting, while the others would often arrive on their own time. Mister Deadman, though, was never anything but punctual.

"He was tasked with guarding the city," Mister Tyson shrugged. "Perhaps he was excluded from the meeting due to the importance of the task."

No, that was wrong. While the task was important, Mister Deadman easily had a hundred Knuckles under his command. Those Knuckles, while the lowest-ranked of the organization, would be able to run the operation for a time in his absence. It wasn't tough to keep a pacified populace under control. So long as they were drugged with false memories from Miss Malone's spiders, the people wouldn't be a problem for Mister Deadman or his Knuckles.

"Yeah, you don't believe it either," Mister Foley said through gritted teeth. "There's some product coming up, but I don't think there's a problem. The prince is opening and closing the way just like he should."

"The King's not presenting any problems," Mister Tyson raised an eyebrow. "I don't think it's on my end."

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"Aside from the temporary presence of a dreadnought, there haven't been any issues in the surrounding nightsea." Miss Brooke kept running her fingers around the rim of her teacup. "Once they realized they were blocked out, they had to leave."

That left Miss Glory. Mister Tyson turned to her, but her bulbous head was unreadable. She just sat with her arms crossed and an unmoving face. Out of all of them, she was the most unnerving.

"There are no problems at the dig site," Miss Glory said. "That is all you need to know."

Each was responsible for part of the operation, with Miss Malone in command. However, if none of them had a problem, save for the one not present, that didn't bode well for Mister Deadman. Though he should have the easiest job of them all, if his part of the operation were blown, that could bring the entire plan tumbling down.

Mister Tyson swallowed the dry lump in his throat.

"I guess we'll just have to wait for Miss Malone." Mister Tyson licked his lips. "Then we'll find out what's really going wrong."

"You won't have to wait long."

Miss Malone strutted through the door in high heels, a dark purple dress trailing behind her on the floor as she marched straight for the front of the table. Her skin was alabaster pale, and her fingers ended in long black nails that were practically spikes. However, the most extravagant part of her look was the glittering bright black stones that covered her forehead, each one a dark pool that matched her eyes' shade.

"I see you were all able to make it," she said as she placed both hands on the table, splaying out her fingers wide as her shadow grew behind her. "We have a problem."

Clack. Clack.

"Sure we do," Mister Foley said, tapping his nails together. "Mister Deadman isn't here!"

"You get right to the point." Miss Malone favored him with a sharp, toothy smile. "Someone has been killing my spiders in the city, and Mister Deadman stopped responding to messages."

Mister Tyson blinked, certain he had misheard her. It was impossible, after all. To be in the city, a person's memories would be erased. The spiders immediately set upon the few ships allowed in through the gate. Then, Mister Deadman and his Knuckles would clean up, transplanting their memory gemstones into the city.

The idea of anyone breaking through that system was preposterous. Even the two captains they had caught earlier in the month couldn't fight off the waves of spiders. Yet, Miss Malone was saying the opposite.

"Was it an attack from another Underground Lord?" Mister Tyson asked. "Did someone find a way to open a door into the island?"

"No one can make a door into one of the Core islands, you know that." Miss Malone's eyes focused on him. "I think it is much more likely that Mister Deadman made a mistake."

"A costly mistake," Miss Brooke said, her finger stopping its circular path around the rim of her cup. "That's why you called us here. You want us to go and check up on him, eliminate him if he's wrecked the plan."

"That's part of it," Miss Malone said, her dark eyes traveling to the tabletop. "I'll need you all to run interference until we can reestablish control of the city. So long as I have the Prince's memories under control, we don't need to worry about outside interference, but he said something that bothers me."

Crack.

"I thought you left him without the ability to speak at all," Miss Glory said, holding up a twisted set of vines in the shape of a hand.

"That is the problem," Miss Malone said. "One thing I've learned about memories in my long time with this curse is that they are all connected. If he's regained some of his mind, then there are people free with their memories that we don't want to be free. They should be recaptured as soon as possible."

Clack. Clack.

"It would be easier to kill them." Mister Foley's whiskers twitched. "Keeping them alive is just asking for them to try and escape again, doubly so if we don't know how they got out of the curse in the first place."

"That isn't an option." Miss Malone shook her head. "I need him to have some parts of his mind intact to operate his curse. That means we need to keep people who are close to him alive. It might break the prince completely if we kill them while he's altered."

"The king could be an option," Miss Glory said.

"No, he can't." Mister Tyson shook his head. "While he is useful for overseeing the kingdom's affairs, even in his altered state, he doesn't have the curse. The power didn't show up in him. Only the late queen and the prince have shown the power."

"That is why we must keep his mind partially intact." Miss Malone nodded. "He is the last of the line able to control the gate. With him, we control one of the four access points to the Core. Without him, Grim Aegis is useless."

"So, we enter the city, find out what happened, and then fix it." Mister Tyson nodded. "We clean up Mister Deadman's mess and report back to you."

"That is what I'm asking," Miss Malone said. "I don't know yet if you'll face riots, but I will send a new wave of spiders to assist you from the shadows. They can capture those who have broken free, but it will take time for me to hatch the numbers we had. I already feel my power ebbing at the loss. Some strong people have regained themselves in Grim Aegis."

Mister Tyson brushed one gloved hand through his short black hair before standing up from his chair. The other Fingers followed suit, though Mister Foley reluctantly gave up his chair.

Together, they were four of the strongest people in the organization. While some powerful people might have broken free of Miss Malone's memory manipulation, Mister Tyson was confident they could handle the problem. He probably wouldn't even need to break his new visage to fight.

"We will do as you ask." Mister Tyson nodded. "But may I ask, what do you wish us to do with Mister Deadman if we find him?"

Miss Malone froze at the question, and Mister Tyson gave her a moment to consider what punishment she deemed best. There were many tortures a Hand could visit on an incompetent subordinate.

"If he's alive, you have my permission to kill him," Miss Malone said, locking her dark eyes on him. "If he's dead, or when you've killed him, bring him back to me. I have a punishment ready for him."

Mister Tyson shuddered at the implication but knew better than to contradict a Hand. If they failed in the mission, it wouldn't have been just Miss Malone who faced Lord Baccia. All of their heads were on the line if they failed to fulfill the true intent of the operation.

"Understood, Miss Malone." Mister Tyson bowed with the four remaining Fingers in unison before exiting the room.

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