I sat by the fire after Leo had closed the bar. I took a scrap of paper and wet it with my own blood, and tossed it in. The orange flames turned a brilliant blue after a few muttered invocations of the Heretic's Rite.

  I was long due to take my next Step. Eager for a little more power, so maybe next time I wouldn't be too slow...

  At the very least, I'd need it to deal with whatever bullshit the Flock had in store.

  Before he left me to my devices, Tom had explained that I'd meet with him and Temperance at the Chantry for the details, but I should expect to be doing some work for the Flock before the first of Fall. He'd congratulated me, and told me to enjoy the next few weeks, and to be on my toes for when the day came.

  I sat back in my chair and added my smoke to the enchanted flames. The ghostleaf butt vanished as soon as it met that strange fire. My eyes closed, the warmth of whiskey and needed rest making it easy to slip away. To let the Dream draw me down.

  When I awoke to the Bastard's face, I didn't even flinch. He was plain pleasant compared to all I'd seen.

  "Evenin', boy," said the amalgamation of memory and monster, "good to see you back. I watched what you did down there in the dark. Good stuff."

  "Thanks," I mumbled, "but it didn't feel good."

  As usual I started reaching for the glass before me. This time though, my hand visibly moved through the mire of warped reality.

  "Gettin' strong," the Kraken observed, the hairs of his greasy beard wiggling in something like glee, "gettin' mighty strong, boy. Took the slow road and hit it at a sprint. That's how I'd have done it, were it me."

  I touched the glass and he moved it back.

  "Come on, let me drink in peace. Please."

  He snorted, and his breath was a hot, fetid, wave of rot that washed over me, "Fuck your peace. We both know what this really is. Drink it now and you'd get nothing. Pick your gifts, dipshit," he drew a deck of cards from under the table and began to shuffle. "You waited like I said, long enough to make this pick real potent indeed."

  He flipped a card on the table and laid it face down, then two more joined it. I reached slowly to reveal them, but was stopped by a tentacle wrapping around my wrist.

  "Not yet. Need to explain what you've paid for. Normally it'd be a bad idea to delay communion. Do it long enough and your Abilities can... get their ideas."

  I sighed and braced for the comin' lecture, "Can they now?"

  "They can," he said and grinned wider still, "but that's not what's happened here. In this case I used that extra mana you accrued by waiting to do you a favor. To, gently, bend some rules on your behalf. This choice is going to be real special."

  "Oh, did you now? I'm sure I'll be paying for it."

  "'Course you will. Always. But the price is more than fair," he flipped the first card face up.

  First was an image of me, sat on some kind of cart, a pair of Moxies, and they were definitely Moxie, tear-assin' through the streets of Hightown. A look of joy and menace was painted on my hand drawn features as fancy dressed gentlemen and ladies dove for cover and out the way.

  "First, Reckless Abandon," the Kraken gestured at the image on the card, "movement becomes a weapon unto itself. As long as you are jumpin', dodgin', skulkin', runnin', or ridin', you'll find your power flows and grows. You'll go faster and faster, and get tougher too. But the moment you stop," he snapped his fingers, "any benefit is gone. Gotta build back up from nothin'."

  I nodded. That seemed good. I wasn't one to sit still, never had been.

  He flipped the next.

  This time the image was abstract. Two green eyes stared down from the heavens onto a lake, their green reflection shimmering on the water below. But it was more than a reflection. There was a difference in them, something in the way the lake distorted their shape, almost it seemed like there was more in the water than the sky...

  "Moonshadow Path," the Kraken drew a pipe out from under the bar, and touched a struck match to the plug of sweet ghostleaf, "this one is truly interesting. Real artistry in it. It will allow you to exploit perception and misdirection. Any kind of obscurement, from smoke," he exhaled a cloud of spicy smoke, "to darkness and shadow. It'll leap up and obey, to a degree. To the untrained eye, hell to any eyes worse than your own, you'll become a trick of the light, momentarily impossible to pin down. Trade off is, you'll needed enough darkness or smoke or sand or whatever around to conceal your entire form. If you get too much light on you, it breaks the effect entirely and you become just as you are now."

  Oof. That did sound powerful, and I did often find myself lost in dark, sandy, and smoky places but...

  "Seems kind of, finicky for me," I said.

  "So is beddin' a woman. But you keep tryin' 'cause the payout is worth it," the Kraken snorted, "anyway, last and not least."

  He flipped the card over and the scene made me double take.

  A great, dark figure, its silhouette almost a woman, but as monstrous and strange as the Kraken himself. The card seemed to resist my attempt to truly understand the figure painted there, squirming and twisting under my scrutiny. After a few seconds of futility I instead focused on the two figures beneath the strange entity.

  A man, me, and a woman that I did not know stood chained to one another. Cold iron our necks as we seemed caught mid-dance, as if we celebrated our shared bondage.

  "What the hell is this one supposed to mean? To be?"

  The Kraken grinned, "Like it? You know I draw these myself, right? When you're not here. I get really bored Roche, and I don't get many chances to flex my artistic muscles."

  I just stared at the old bastard. Maybe livin' in my soul in this decrepit little bar torn from my memories was drivin' the Kraken mad. Maybe one day I'd sit down to commune and come back to find he'd redecorated. Painted the walls with knew what he used for pigment.

  "What's it do old man?"

  "It's a dance, in a way. Doux et Doux Drift. Two steps, first the shot and then the Drift. It'll crank up the kick of all your guns and let you use that momentum to move and weave like the world's slipperiest eel. The only limit is needin' to shoot first, and havin' the focus to direct it. If the first was simplicity, the second art, this my friend, is the choice of pure violence, aggression made movement made aggression." The Kraken paused, letting his words sink in, "'Course, that's only if you got the balls to dance with all them devils."

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Damn. All of them had appeal. The first a direct enhancement to what I already was. Fast, reckless and tough. I could keep it up, I was sure. But, in exchange, I'd be makin' myself predictable. Not being able to stop from movin' was almost as bad as sittin' still.

  No.

  I needed flexibility as much as power.

  And the second choice, well what else was that but flexibility. I could probably find way to engineer my own cover. Ask Shorty for some alchemical smoke bombs, kick up dust with well aimed shots, get real used to livin' in the dark. And the reward for all that was an easy out of the sort of situations I always found myself in.

  The third though...

  I mean, it was obvious which the Kraken liked. The one he was proud to dangle in front of me. A fat kipper before the hungry tomcat. It was the most flashy, the most dangerous, and, well-

  "Doux et Doux Drift. Final answer. You knew I was goin' to pick it anyway."

  The Kraken chuckled, "It had the prettiest drawin' you should try and remember it. Might help you down the line."

  Huh. My Patron was often vague, sinister, and plain mean, but he was rarely cryptic. I made a mental note of that, then of the card itself. Soon as I took my attention off of them, the other caught fire and became ash in a moment of dream reality. Meanwhile, the one I had picked slid slowly back towards the Kraken's deck on the bar and then disappeared in the lot.

  I rubbed my tired eyes, almost used to the weirdness here, then I reached for the glass.

  "Ah! No. One last thing, one you're not goin' to like," he said slidin' the glass closer to him again.

  "Oh what now?" I said grittin' my teeth.

  He didn't seem to catch or care a wit for my irritation, "With this jump in your strength comes a caveat," he slapped another card down. A little me wearin' my clothes, four swords sticking out of his back, "your life just got a hell of a lot more valuable to the Old Bitch in the Deep."

  "Huh?"

  A black gold smile, riches and rot, "Well son, did you think a lone Kraken was enough to power all this growth? To give you gifts like I done? You're an investment boy. One made by that Saint of yours, and by someone like her to me. You know she plucked you from the Deep, right?"

  "Sorta," I said with a nod, "she don't like details much. Just said she rescued me. Explained a little of why I lost time."

  The Bastard nodded, his mustache bristling and rollin' on his lip like a fuzzy worm, "Yeah. Well Temperance didn't really just rescue you. Just borrowed you for a while, bought a place for you in the mortal realm again. My Lady is your true savior, in the metaphysical sense. She picked you out of the thousands of other fuckers down there. Then picked you again when you killed the other two she liked. She gave you a gift. Me. And that gun. Mystery solved, I guess. Anyway," he said pulling a cigarette from thin Dream and striking a match, "that means the eyes of The Hungry Whore are on you. She don't want you burning out. You'll take no more Steps until you master what you've already got. Those abilities of your aren't static. Probably noticed that a little. They're strong as is, but if you work to hone them, actually fuckin' train, then they'll grow even more. Change. Become somethin' special," he smiled and took a drag, "till you do, I can't give anything past this," he said drawing the Drift card from the deck again before makin' it disappear with a flick of his hand.

  "Seems kind of bullshit that some god I ain't never heard of gets to decide what I can do," I grumbled. The revelation that Temperance was lying might as well have been the Kraken tellin’ me water was wet and pigs eat bacon.

  No shit.

  Much as it all should’ve shattered my world, it couldn’t. Reality had only grown stranger and stranger each day. Meddlin’ Gods was almost mundane by compare

  Just another damn chain. Just another name added to that list of boots on my neck. One more to break, when my day came. When they gave me so much power that I was too big for their strings…

  "That's the Lady, for ya, kid. And frankly, I shouldn't be callin’ her a God, she’s a little more than that, doesn’t like the limitation.. But," he said and snapped his fingers, "that's the nature of power. She don't give a good, deep, fuck about what you think. We all are ever at Her whim."

  Yep. Just another chain to my ankle. It wasn't enough I was stuck here for the Flock. Not enough that I owed Shorty more than I could ever pay. Every time I closed my eyes it seemed like I'd awoken to another new master, another day alive, and another lifetime in debt.

  Finally, as tacit acceptance sank in, the Kraken slid over the glass.

  "It was a pleasure. Truly. I like workin' with you Roche. We're beasts of the same wild yonder, you and me. Keep on keepin' on."

  The glass was in front of me and grabbed it up.

  Cool, wet.

  Then warm. Then hot.

  Then burning like swappin' spit with the godsdamned sun.

  More power than I had ever taken in before me crashed like a tidal wave, sweeping away the dream and any sense I had left.

  Ow.

  "Huuu-" I snapped awake in my chair, Leo's big old paw on my shoulder.

  "You good?" he asked with a frown.

  I stood, wobbled, then steadied myself on the chair.

  "Just took two Steps."

  His brows shot up, a new look in his cat's eyes, "Respect."

  I gave a weak smile, "Yeah. Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna go puke my guts out in a bucket and pass the fuck out. That hurt."

  "Sure kiddo. But before you got, Temperance stopped by while you were out. Take this," he handed me a little coin, silver and marked with a bird, "go to the biomancer in Uptown before you meet at the Chantry. She's one of us. She'll fix whatever shit is still wrong with you. You know, before you have to go to work."

  I frowned, "Yeah. Thanks."

  In truth Ice-Cold Blood and the University biomancers had already healed most of my wounds. I wasn't quite in top shape, but it was pretty damn close. Still, I wouldn't pass up a free lunch from our mysterious Saint. Just good, often times, wasn't good enough.

  I'll take perfection, thanks.

  When I awoke the next morning, ready to start another hard day, I cracked open my Rune Book. Just wanted to appreciate how far I'd come. The contents, in full, looked like this:

  Name: Lorcan Roche

  Path: Desperado

  Patron: Kraken

  Step: 3 (99%)

  Foundation:

  The Fool - Acts of risk, violence, and self destruction will increase the strength and scope of your Path. You are far from that distant Horizon.

  Structure:

  The Tower (Inverted) - Every step along your Path will bring great power, but all that you were before must first be brought low. You are Blessed with mutation and transformation.

  Crown:

  Justice - You are bound by a code. If you ever should violate your own sense of justice, your Path will end. Do good, do ill, but.

  Do. Not. Falter.

  Star:

  The Watcher - Your Path is guided by the Eye of the Gods, the will of the Pantheons, and the desires of the Dark. You will see beyond, and you will hear the requests of those above. Absolution, Corruption, you are Herald to both and more.

  Abilities:

  Skullduggery – You're great at getting into places you shouldn't, and taking things that don't belong to you.

  Rank 1: Just startin’. Get to work.

  All Seeing Eye – You peer beyond the Veil, seeing the flows of Divine, Entropic, and Wyld mana in the world around you. You're also a really good shot.

  Rank 1: Just startin’. Get to work.

  Chthonic Dexterity – Greatly enhance your ability to grasp, manipulate, and coordinate. Be a better shot, a faster draw. And more.

  Rank 2: You know something, but ain’t much.

  Ice-Cold Blood – Your blood clots quick, and mana flows free in your system. You no longer need to fear the effects of bleeding out. You also heal a lot faster as a result.

  Rank 4: You learned a lot. It’s almost time to be more…

  Douce et Doux Drift – The kick of a gun doesn’t just shove you back. You can ride it. With practice, it becomes a dance; pivot, roll, or even vault off the blast of your own shots.

  Rank 1: Just startin’. Get to work.

  Note: Ability progression will now be displayed, Roche. Each rank is a little boost to whatever it says. Raise them by doing. They can change at Rank Five, and Ten is your current max. Get there in all of them, and you can climb again.