2103:10:19:23:51:20

  I circled Crowsong from above, attempting to hide in the darkness of the rafters, yet her gaze was unwavering. Even in the darkness, her eyes found my form without hesitation. Every angle I approached her from, she turned to meet. Not for the first time I wondered if she had some form of night vision googles in her mask. If so, she’d never shared.

  Still, she’d given me the initiative, so I should strike while the iron is hot. Or rather, before she starts throwing her knives at me. Even blunted, those things hurt.

  I swooped down at a ninety-degree angle, starting from right above her. In response, my mentor dashed a small distance to force me to change the angle.

  It didn’t matter. I continued straight down and only when I was about to hit the floor did I pull back up, shooting towards Crowsong with all the momentum I’d built. Then, right before impact, I shifted back into myself. That small crow was now a human projectile shooting straight at my mentor.

  Naturally, Crowsong had seen through my plan. She was already in a stance to catch and redirect the impact, aiming to throw me on the ground with all the momentous force my maneuver had given me. Since I was now in human form, I could not change my trajectory.

  That is, if I remained human.

  I shifted back into a crow and flapped twice to slow down, then transformed into myself and dropped low to the ground, all but falling to my knees. I shifted into cat form and, with legs still bent from before, shot off towards Crowsong, this time approaching low to the ground.

  As I got close, I planted my front feet firmly on the floor and swept my hind legs around. Shifting mid-maneuver, my now-human legs were fast approaching Crowsong’s unprotected ankles.

  Crowsong jumped over the kick easily, but that was to be expected. I shifted into a cat again to reduce the time of my rotation and, desperate to not lose the initiative, dashed forward once more, aiming to grapple her before she landed.

  Unfortunately, I’d misjudged the timing. By the time I turned back to human me and tackle my mentor, she’d already had her feet on the ground again and taken a stance. Instead of allowing me to get close, she lashed out with a kick so fast it was as if the air itself cracked under the force.

  It hit me dead center.

  The kick was less than it could’ve been due to Crowsong holding back – and removing all but her bluntest knife beforehand; no need for things to get bloody – but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful. As it hit my diaphragm, I nearly doubled over from the breath being forced out of my lung, and subsequently felt dizzy from the sudden lack air.

  The initiative now lay with her. Time for plan B.

  Crowsong closed in and began swiping at me with her blunted claws. I only narrowly managed to avoid them by leaning too far back, leaving myself purposefully open for Crowsong’s follow-up attack: a taloned kick towards my side.

  Right into my trap. I transformed into a cat, bypassing the kick completely as my form shrank and giving me the agility necessary to twist mid-air to land on my feet. From my peripherals, I saw Crowsong turn her kick into a downward stomp, but by that point I was already dashing forward.

  I ran between Crowsong’s legs, turned my body around and shifted back into a human. Crowsong managed to turn the kick-stomp into a bodily twist, turning her body back around and facing me with her non-dominant side. Too far away for a swipe, too close for a kick, and still unsteady from the previous maneuver, she jabbed with her left in order to create some time and distance.

  But instead of moving backwards, I moved in. My mentor’s jab flew over my shoulder at the same time I moved my left leg behind her right, ready to tackle and force us down to the floor.

  I made impact, pushing my mentor back and over my outstretched leg. Crowsong quickly turned her failed jab into a hook around my neck. She shifted her weight in order to twist and throw me over her knee, hoping she could use the tackle against me so she could be on top when the grapple began.

  But I had one more trick.

  I jumped just enough for my feet to leave the ground right before transforming, turning into a sparrow at around where my human center of mass used to be. I was still unused to quick-shifting into a sparrow, so the shift in senses left me a bit disoriented, but nevertheless, I could still move about and knew roughly where to go.

  I frantically flapped my tiny wings to get out of Crowsong’s web of limbs. I moved to her side, shifting as she began to fall now that my body wasn’t there to support her. Once she landed on the floor, I would initiate the grapple from an advantageous position, where combined with my greater strength, it would hopefully be enough of an advantage to deal with her greater skill.

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  Yet despite precariously balancing on one leg, despite the force of my tackle, despite the disorientation my sudden disappearance must’ve caused, Crowsong still managed to twist her upper body around. In an almost dance-like maneuver, she transformed all that momentum into a whip-cord kick towards my ankles.

  Although disoriented from my sparrow transformation, I managed to jump and shift into a crow midair. Unfortunately, my quick-shift into the yet-to-be mastered sparrow form meant any further transformation would not be so easy. Despite mastering the form, shifting into a crow compounded the feeling of disorientation and nausea, and I felt a headache starting to grow from the quick-shifts.

  In spite of that, I still managed flapped my wings in order to create some distance between me and my mentor, but didn’t get very far. Before I had a chance to dodge, Crowsong had already got up from the floor and lunged toward my crow body, catching me midflight, her hand curling around my neck.

  And with that, I was out. Unlike with when she caught my feet during that mess of a first battle, I couldn’t transform back into myself like this.

  I squawked in defeat and after a moment, Crowsong set me down on the ground. I transformed back.

  “Very good,” Crowsong said in between heaving breaths. “Almost had me there.”

  “I didn’t-” I coughed. “Didn’t even get to grappling,” I complained.

  Crowsong shook her head. “For the sake of sparring: if I get grappled, I lose,” she stated, breathing slowly steadying. “With your super sub-powers, I doubt random thugs or even non-super masked would be able to contest you.”

  I felt my cheeks glow at the flattery. “Thanks,” I murmured. “But seeing is believing.”

  Crowsong nodded at that. “Your quick-shifting is going well, but we’ll need to start focusing more on your grappling. If you were better at it, you could’ve gotten me before you turned into a sparrow, turned that tackle into something you could use. And while creativity with your power is good, quick-shifts shouldn’t be your answer to everything. If you use it too often in a single fight, people will get used to it quickly. Though I’ll admit, that trick with the sparrow was inspired.” She thought for a second, looking for something to add, then nodded. “Overall, great progress.” I nodded in response.

  A moment of quiet reigned as we gathered ourselves.

  “I guess that’s it for today,” Crowsong said after steadying her breathing.

  “No news?” I asked, rising up from the floor. The move dizzying for a second, but that quickly passed.

  “If there is, Nth-Sight hasn’t shared. And the intel from those guys last Wednesday was a bust – false info, as expected. Seems Jannacht’s been tightening their OPSEC.” I could hear the pride in her voice as she spoke. “The Wardens and Guardians are also tightening the noose. Pulling from the other end. My guess? It’ll be a while until we get another lead.”

  She put her hands on her back and stretched, a half-grunt, half-moan escaping as she did. “‘Sides, I could use the rest. Some people need their sleep,” she said.

  I shrugged. “Some people are just better.”

  Crowsong snorted and shook her head, walking toward the lounge area. I followed as she opened the fridge, plucked out two plastic bottles and tossed one to me. It was a glittery green liquid called Semminon Plus+, a mask-branded sports drink.

  I took a sip of the overly sweet-and-salty drink, carefully pouring it into the smiling gap of my silver mask. I forced myself to swallow the liquid, sticking my tongue out in disgust as the taste hit. It tasted like marshmallow – something I usually liked – except soaked in the sweat of someone who hadn’t washed themselves in three days.

  Crowsong insisted I drink it after every training – something to do with nutrients. Unlike with sleep, I’d not told her I didn’t need to drink or eat. Whereas not needing sleep wasn’t uncommon for shifters – a bit like flight was common with supers, even if their powers had no direct connection with it – not needing to eat or drink was incredibly rare for anyone. Crowsong was smart, and I feared that this and my other quirks would lead her closer to discovering my true nature.

  I took another sip of the drink and gagged at the taste. I was heavily considering telling her about it anyway.

  Crowsong took a seat on the couch and pressed a button on either side of her beak, popping off its lower half. She cracked open her own bottle and proceeded to guzzle it down without any complaint. I didn’t know whether to be disgusted or jealous. Did she have some sort of sub-power that neutralized poison?

  Once she drained the bottle, she let out a big aaahh and threw it straight into the trashcan. I clapped politely while she, still seated, performed a little bow.

  “Thanks for training with me again today,” I said, carefully sipping my drink. “And sorry about tomorrow.”

  Unless we had a time-sensitive piece of information that required us to act quickly, we would train practically every other night, and definitely every Friday and Saturday. Even when we had an ‘operation’ – as Crowsong called it – like busting deals, tracing smuggling routes or cracking open hideouts, or just a late-night patrol, we took at least an hour to train before or after.

  Of course, tomorrow’s was cancelled because I’d be spending the night at Millie’s place.

  “Don’t mention it,” Crowsong replied. There was something in her tone of voice I couldn’t identify.

  I’d expected her to be upset when I told her I wouldn’t be able to mask on Saturday, but she wasn’t – she accepted it without comment, without emotion. Or at least, not as far as I could tell; it can be difficult, what with the mask and all.

  But there had been something different since I mentioned it. It was something like suspicion, but not. Perhaps unease, or discomfort, but that didn’t really fit either.

  Crowsong fidgeted, a rare occurrence. “Do they know about…” she waved her hand over her face – her mask, “you know?”

  I shook my head in response, sending my floppy crown swinging. Was that what she’d been worried about? Me telling them my masked identity? “I wouldn’t tell them without asking you first,” I said.

  In truth, I hadn’t even considered telling them. There was no point, and it added another layer of security for if I got revealed as an android. If it got revealed, I could simply move and create a new masked identity somewhere else – shapeshifters and mimics were common enough the identities wouldn’t be linked. Even if it was probably a Treaty violation – changing masked identity to avoid paying for crimes, that is – being an android was already a death sentence, so that was a moot point.

  I wondered, did independent heroes and Guardians share their identities with their families and friends? Did villains? I suspected some of them must, if only to make their lives easier.

  Did Crowsong?

  “Good,” my mentor responded. “I’d advise keeping your masked and civilian lives apart, if only to prevent Treaty violations. Accidental or otherwise.” There was a stiffness to her posture as she said it. She let out a sigh and relaxed. “But in the end, it’s up to you.”

  Likely not if that was her advice.

  “I don’t think I’ll tell anybody,” I assured my mentor. “I haven’t even told my mom yet. I doubt she’d appreciate me sneaking out at night to fight criminals. She doesn’t even know I don’t need to sleep, and she’s been very… something, since I broke my nose that night.”

  Crowsong snorted, before sighing wistfully. “Sometimes, I wish mine-” she cut off and her posture went more rigid. What was that about? “Let’s try and keep light on discussing personal stuff – you never know when an augur is post-cogging this or something similar. Even with the Treaty it’s better to be cautious. For everyone’s sake.”

  That stung. Even if I followed her reasoning, it sounded like an excuse.

  Nevertheless, I obeyed.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Alright,” Crowsong replied. She opened a drawer of the low table in front of her couch and retrieved a stack of papers – actual, physical papers. “Now, since we know we’re dealing with the Jannacht, I’ve been doing some research on their masked. I’ve marked those most likely to come and those already in Charm, including a list of their known juniors. Let’s go through them, prioritize them by threat-level, think up countermeasures, etcetera.”

  I welcomed the distraction and sat down next to her.