Henry had to admit, for William this was a pretty brazen disregard for his duties. Good to know that he'd started to come around a bit, honestly.

Up until this point, he'd considered him to be pretty deeply entrenched in Cavendish's camp. You sort of had to, with someone who not only willingly put up with the conditions rampant in the lower castes, but actively enforced them. While he wasn't sure exactly how involved William had gotten himself with the old fossil over the months, it was safe to say he could at minimum be considered complicit.

But now, it seems that there might be a few cracks beginning to show. Take, for example, this crack below the door that he was on his hands and knees for, looking through to the other side so he could guide his summoning with the barest modicum of light still reflecting off the paving stones. How gracious of him to give him this angle to work with.

"This time, let's not get our head exploded, shall we?"

With a barely audible snap, his duplicate came into existence a bare meter from the door. A momentary pause, then the heavy deadbolt turned. Slowly, carefully, the oak and banded iron construct creaked ajar.

"Couldn't agree more," said the fresh copy. "Got any ideas to get out past the gates?"

"I'm thinking we go up and over. I saw a stairwell that appeared to lead up to the battlements on the way here, so if we can get there we have a good chance of organizing a pickup."

"Hey, I saw that too, you know! Not like I need an introduction."

"Well, then, let's skip to the more important details. Should we let them know we're on our way out?"

"You're the one with the phone."

"Ah! Right."

He fished around in his pocket for a moment, glad for his decision to go in unarmed. Anything sharp he might have had on him would have definitely been confiscated, but since he'd taken the time to disarm himself from a visible position outside they'd been less inclined to properly search him themselves. Even the Knights had simply tossed him in the cell, though that might just be from inexperience on their part. With how many veterans must have died going up against Evelyn, it wasn't the least bit surprising that their were at least a few replacements still wet behind the ears.

Flicking the cell phone open, he was shocked to find he was receiving one, singular bar of signal. More than he thought he'd get, honestly, but still less than he'd hoped for. It would have to do. He punched in the other contact listed in the device, and let it ring for a bit.

Just when he thought it was about to go to voicemail, someone on the other end picked up. Static filled the line for a split second, loud enough to get him to flinch and hold the speaker away from his face a bit.

"Yeah?", the response from the other end eventually came.

No time to chat. This call could drop at any second, so he had to be as quick and concise as possible.

"Deal's still on, but we'll need that pickup, after all. Battlements near the gate. We'll call again once we're there."

"Pickup?" The audio squawked once again, cutting off part of the following sentence. "-aid the battlements, right?"

"Yup. Get a vantage point, we should be easy enough to spot-"

The static reached a crescendo, before finally resolving into a single, monotone chime. Oh well. Seemed to him that most of what he wanted to say got through, at least.

Nothing left to do now but go for it…

He nodded to his copy, and the two of them prepared to creep forwards through the darkness. Each of them removed their shoes, opting to carry them with rather than let the sound of their footsteps give them away. Nobody should be down here but them, but that wasn't an invitation to take chances. Anyone who wasn't moving around with either a light or a sense of purpose would have immediately been flagged as someone who belongs in a cell by the jailers.

He really wanted to make a proper escape this time. Felt like he was due one, at this point. With how often he ended up getting himself captured, balancing things out with an easy escape should count as the bare minimum for someone who had an Exotic Domain to call upon.

Can't let myself go 0 and 3… or would it be 4? I'm starting to lose track…

And so, the game kicked off with only one party knowing it had started. Doing their level best to keep it that way, the duo watched each other's backs, peered around corners, tiptoed down corridors, and steered well clear of any voices or sounds they heard in passing. They both had a clear destination in mind, and with a bit of patience and taking the time to mentally map their surroundings as they wandered, eventually the window of opportunity they were looking for opened up.

Or rather, trapdoor of opportunity, in this case. The top of the stairwell he'd spotted earlier ended abruptly, transitioning to a simple wooden ladder beneath a trapdoor leading onto the roof. A common tactic, if you were worried about raiders breaking in and trying to wreak havoc on your defenders.

Common, and also hopelessly outdated. Nowadays, those raiders typically had guns. Or could climb walls without siege equipment. Or could smash them entirely, with proper motivation. Frankly, these defenses were best used against, well… the people behind them.

As Henry carefully undid the clasp of the trapdoor, he wondered just how many of these 'defenses' pointed inward, as well…

The trapdoor lifted up, and he risked a glance both ways. A few guards in the direction of the gatehouse, but both were facing away from him and didn't seem particularly attentive. To his left, however, the wall stretched on for kilometers, empty save for a few specks in the foggy distance.

If they were a speck to him, then the reverse likely held true, as well. He decided to risk it, and lifted himself up behind the stony ramparts.

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His clone was quick to come up behind him. The hinge squeaked shut, and Henry busied himself with sending out the next call. While he waited for the phone to ring, he had a few seconds to get a good look at the terrain that the massive defensive structure had previously hidden out of sight.

The lay of the land inside Hackney was… pretty much how he remembered it being. Both a complete dump and a welcome home all wrapped up into one, messy package. It took the already horrendous urban sprawl of a bustling metropolis, decided it could do worse and added a bunch of mud and stone-brick housing on top of it, used every square inch of space and made sure to top it all off with lots and lots of smokestacks.

Billowing, sooty black smog boiled up into the air above, where it likely would have caused serious damage had it not been for the Shroud blanketing them from overhead. It was, however, more than enough to blot out the light of the moon, smothering the population of laborers below in near-perfect darkness.

Could be worse. He'd heard some pretty nasty horror stories about Birmingham, in general.

Damn, isn't that a nostalgic sight...

Following the Kennel Massacre, this place had become home for himself and Layla. The Mad Prince's short-lived reign of terror had displaced many a survivor from the old encampment in the grounds of Buckingham Palace. Ironically, despite this ghetto being even worse than the one he'd been forced out of, it still held some of the best memories of his life since the first Witching Hour.

Basking in the miracle of finding himself still alive, for a sense of the word. Having magic, all of a sudden. And, after a time, having a sense of safety, a place that wasn't under constant threat of disembowelment or some other, equally nasty death. He'd loved it all, for a time.

But then he'd found out the costs involved with that life. And as much as he yearned for it, he couldn't in good conscience accept that price. That he'd learned it at around the same time of uncovering the location of his original body was just a well-timed excuse to leave and never look back.

Though, not sure how good of a job I did with that 'never look back' part…

The phone finally clicked on again, and he gave the signal and a rough estimate of their location relative to the guardhouse. A bit of back and forth ensued, as the other two copies on the outside got into position to pull them out of the fire. His copy kept watch, doing his best to look like any other guard from a distance but clearly nervous about being found out the whole way.

Watching… waiting…

There. A glint of light flashed in the window of one of the apartments, and both of them immediately snapped their attention onto it. The magic of the artifact on the other side caught them both in its grasp, and the space around them twisted in a way that made him feel like he was able to taste a color that hadn't been invented yet.

Henry blinked involuntarily. With a slight woosh of displaced air, both of them appeared in an entirely different location. They landed feet-first in front of a large mirror, held up by one of the copies while a light talisman bounced pure white rays out towards the portion of wall they had been on just moments ago.

That state of affairs didn't last long, as Henry's knees immediately buckled and he began dry heaving up the lunch he hadn't had yet. His copy wasn't far behind him.

But, on the bright side… it would seem that their theory had panned out, after all.

It was the result of one of their more interesting finds from searching the cursed regions. As best as they could figure, this mirror unerringly pulled people who looked at it through space so that they were directly in front of it. In a way that flat-out ignored whatever was in between the two of them, so long as line of sight wasn't obstructed. The piece had been an absolute nightmare to remove safely from the basement they'd found it in, but once they'd realized it seemingly wasn't limited by range, more than a few people agreed that this one should go on the 'not for sale' list.

As they had just proven, it could pull someone to safety from a great distance away. Even if whatever was chasing them inadvertently came along for the ride as well, they had a split second of motion sickness where a properly set-up ambush would be able to rid the threat in a safe manner.

The benefits of treasure hunting, I suppose…

"Jesus Christ," his duplicate that had been along for the ride groaned. "That felt like my tongue was being pulled down into my lower intestine…"

"Yeah, well, you're out now, aren't you?" One of the others put a cloth cover over the mirror, hiding the reflective surface from view and casting the light off into the corner of the room. "I'd call that a better situation than the alternative, even if there's a bit of motion sickness."

"Urgh… motion sickness doesn't even begin to describe it. That implies there was motion involved in the first place. And besides… I got roped into this mess by him, anyway!"

The clone pointed a finger accusingly in Henry's general direction, both of them still hunched over as their stomachs settled.

"Oh, come on," he countered. "Tell me that wasn't the most flawlessly executed escape we've had yet. Go on. I'll wait."

"Enough." the remaining copy, who hadn't spoken yet but had watched them all bicker with each other, stepped forward. "I might not be able to hear what you all are complaining about, but already I can tell that this'll drag on forever if I don't say something."

Ah, right. He'd blown his eardrums up in the monster encounter on the way over. Unfortunately, hearing damage was still beyond the capacity of their own Fauna mages to heal. Considering they probably weren't going to reach Kensington in two-ish days, it appeared that this particular clone was stuck with the disability for the rest of his short life.

It was a sorry state of affairs, and he wished it didn't have to come to this. Maybe it didn't regardless, but they were here now.

The three of them looked around the room, and nodded once to each other. They all held an understanding with each other. If they hadn't, he'd have torn out his own throat long ago in some ill-advised brawl against himself. Some lines had to not be crossed, otherwise the whole balance would come apart at the seams.

Banter was okay, but when it started bridging the divide into argument territory… it could very easily get out of hand for him.

"Right, sorry…"

The other two mumbled similar apologies to their deafened counterpart, idiosyncratic gestures of contrition slipping in as they got back to work.

Satisfied, the deaf clone gave a nod of approval and helped them pack up. Before the one with the mirror could get too far, Henry quick asked where the rest of the group was.

"They somewhere nearby, or do we have a hike in front of us?"

"On the ground floor. Moving this thing around without their help would have been a pain otherwise." The copy gestured to the mirror propped against his waist, before motioning for one of the others to grab the opposite end.

A brief moving session later, and they were off to prepare for this black market dealing of theirs. He decided it would be best to check in, now that he was home free. A couple ducks needed to be put in a row.

< -|- -|- >

It really was an unassuming little sprig.

Just looking at it in her hand right now, it almost looked like something you'd grow in a little garden plot on the front lawn. A long stem with many little white petals, she'd grown it herself from nothing, selfishly using her own powers to bring it into existence. Domain magic truly was a wonderful gift to the world.

And she would give it all away for even just one day more with her son.

Her breath shook as she looked down at the sprig in her hand. A thin, cotton glove separated it from touching her skin. She'd heard that some people got a reaction from it, that way, and she didn't want to risk it happening until the time was right.

She had business to take care of first. Goodbyes to say to those around her. Just a little more time-

A knock at the door interrupted her from her reverie. Hastily, she stuffed the plant away in a pocket on her vest, out of sight so that nobody would force her to reconsider. She exited the grimy tile bathroom she'd hidden herself in, and was surprised to find the new kid waiting outside for her, of all people. Henry, if she remembered correct. Nice enough fellow, but…

...His face was tied to bad memories, now.

"Hey," he spoke softly to her. "Perhaps it's best we had a talk."

"Sorry?" The pit in her stomach only widened at his sudden interest. "I don't-"

"Yes, you do. There's only one reason for someone to wander off to the nearest private location holding a hemlock plant."

She froze. Henry kept talking.

"First time?"

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