No matter how hard she focused, Calponia couldn't see through the fog surrounding them. Considering how close she'd come to being yanked out into the opaque swirling vapor, the inability to see beyond two feet in any direction wigged her out. Her nerves sparked and crackled, her internal wiring frayed from the high stress of the last few days. The binding viciously pinched the tender skin under her armpits. Her bound boobs hurt, and between the tightness and the heavy velvet clothing, every breath felt like breathing through midday jungle heat. She could feel sweat soaking into the binding cloth. If she concentrated on the feeling, the urge to itch slammed her between the eyes. Thankfully the paste holding her fake beard in place was much more horrid. It burned. She was going to have the mother of all rashes.

Priorities, Calponia. She inhaled, trying to find a calm center in her storming inner thoughts. She was heading into another hostile world. Though unlike Sanguinheim, which was hostile to her species, Arden was hostile toward her sex. Did any of the Edgewise patrons come from a realm full of sunshine and rainbows? Her mind still rang from the tag-team lecturing of Mack and Cesario. They painted a bleak picture of a backward world. A world where time stood still. That wasn't an euphemism. In the decades Cesario frequented the tavern, only a few months passed on her world.

Mack called it 'compacted time'. Some realms ran on a slower rotation than others. Like stepping out for a five minute smoke break that lasted a week on the other side of the door. That stilted sense of urgency to leave the tavern and head to Arden now made sense. According to Cesario, only minutes passed on her world since her bloody arrival at the Edgewise. They would be walking into streets swarming with Inquisitors and their rotting zealots. Mack wanted her fully briefed and well disguised. Boy, was she briefed.

Cesario's descriptions of Arden women scared the crap out of her.

Earth had issues with gender equality, but the women of Arden were barely considered human, let alone citizens. They weren't married, but sold to their husbands, who had utter control over their lives. An unmarried woman had two paths open to her, to follow God or open her legs. Even those institutions were run by men. Women were kept uneducated, even the wives of the wealthy were kept from reading as it 'spoiled the mind.' It was a mindset similar to the dark ages. Scratch that, it was worse.

Calponia couldn't wrap her head around it. Didn't they have books? Art? Did women ever rebel? She worried her lip, remembering Cesario's expression when she asked those questions. Yes, there were occasional slips, and they dearly paid for their indiscretions.

"We are almost there, Cal." She jumped at Cesario's voice, tripping over her own feet. She began to pitch forward, jerking to a halt as a strong hand caught her elbow.

"You really are quite hopeless, dear," said Lady Agatha as she pulled her to her feet. Of course the lady knight moved with grace and utter silence in that long flowing dress. Lady Agatha bit her lip to keep from smiling, carefully pressing Calponia's peeling beard back into place. Summer bright eyes were solemn as Lady Agatha reached up to tug at the other's outfit. Calponia let out a startled gush of air as the pressure on her breasts became bearable. She frowned down at her flattened chest, but whatever the knight did, her binding was undisturbed.

"Thanks," she said, wincing at the feminine pitch. She wouldn't be doing much talking on Arden.

Lady Agatha grinned. "I've worn my fair share of binding. It pinches something awful."

"You had to dress as a man too?" From what Calponia remembered, the lady knight's world was slightly more progressive than Arden.

"No but breasts tend to flap around in battle if they aren't properly bound," said Lady Agatha with a sigh. "Those Amazons may have the right of it, lopping off anything that get in the way. Though they are terribly unbalanced." The knight made a lopsided cupping motion at her chest and winked.

Calponia snorted, nearly blowing off her mustache before Mack's sharp voice cut through the fog.

"If you two are done dallying we are about to push into Arden," he drawled.

"Sorry, sorry!" Calponia hurried to catch up and promptly slammed into a solid block of air. "Why? Why do you let me run into these things?"

Mack coughed. "Didn't expect you to run past me."

"I can barely see you," Calponia confessed. He was little better than a fuzzy outline just a few feet away. "The air is solid. Why is the air solid?"

"It's the compacted time surrounding the realm. You need to push your way through the resistance, much like walking through jello."

"What's jello?" Lady Agatha piped up from the fog.

"Like walking through Tarminian custard," said Mack without missing a beat.

"Ah."

Cesario emerged from the fog next to her, her carefully crafted masculine expression grim. "I'll go first." Mack's hand landed on her shoulder.

"Much as I trust your native instincts, I can walk away from a knife to the chest," he nodded to Calponia. "And I may need you to help everyone break on through. Cal, keep pushing forward, no matter what."

Calponia blanched as Mack shoved his way through the invisible barrier, the air slucking around his body, snapping back with an actual wobble as he passed through. Jello was an apt comparison.

Lady Agatha stepped forward without hesitation, not so much as a slurp in her wake.

"How does she move like that?"

"Black magics," said Cesario, glancing at Calponia. "Are you ready?"

"Not really." Calponia bent her knees and jumped. For a moment, she hung in the air, the resistance refusing to yield. She kicked against it, gritting her teeth as her hands clawed at the solid air in front of her. It was worse than jello. Like swimming in cotton and treacle. The pressure on her chest increased the deeper she went, closing like a vise on her lungs. She wondered if her ribs would splinter when a hand planted flat against her back and shoved her forward. The air snapped around her, an elastic breaking at its limit. Calponia stumbled into a dark alley gasping for breath.

Cesario emerged behind her, rubbing Cal's back as she regained her bearings.

Calponia noticed an immediate difference in the very air she dragged in her lungs. It felt heavier, weighted. She tried not to think how much time already passed on the other side of that impossible barrier. If the Edgewise was healed. If the pirate and his crew were okay. If the Munch shot someone in the face yet. That she was faintly annoyed the vampire wasn't able to come with them. Annoyed that she worried about the stupid vampire more than she should. Bugger.

Calponia opened her mouth to ask what happened next when Cesario pressed them both against the moldy brick wall, a finger to her lips.

A trio of hooded figures hovered at the alley mouth, their movements jerky, puppets on strings. The unmistakable sound of knives scraping over brick made her shiver. Cesario pressed against her harder, as if holding still would make them invisible....

The trio paused, shifting with apparent uncertainty. Holy shit, holding still made them invisible. Calponia didn't dare to breathe. Where was Mack and Lady Agatha?

A shiver stole up her spine, her strained nerves slipping her control as her teeth gave the softest click, muffled inside her mouth. Three heads jerked at the sound and took a dragging step in their direction. Cesario swore, trying to shield Calponia as they took another awful involuntary step, their dead limbs dragging along the ground.

Mack stepped in front of them, looking annoyed as he made a shooing motion with his fingers. "Shove off you lot," he growled.

The zealots stilled, sagging on their invisible strings for a long breathless moment before they pivoted as one and stalked away.

Mack raised a brow at the two of them. "Could you two be louder, I don't think the whole city heard you."

"Oh, stuff it," Calponia hissed, trying to get her pulse back under control. "What the hell did you do, some Jedi mind trick?"

"What's a Jedi?" Lady Agatha melted off the wall like a shadow of silk and moonlight. Calponia barely bit back a yelp at her sudden appearance. Mack held up a hand as another group of zealots skulked passed the alley entrance. After a few moments the four of them relaxed.

"We can't stay here, but I am honestly loathe to move through the city with you exposed like this Lady Agatha," said Mack, edging to peer out into the gloom of the open street.

The woman shifted, drawing a short blade from a fold of her skirts. "I assure you, I shall be fine," she said, sliding next to him to scout the area. "This invasion would not go unnoticed by my people."

Calponia blinked at her, impressed and curious what else the lady knight secreted in her layers of silk.

Mark watch the groups of cloaked figures flitting through the shadows. "It's not wise to be on the streets right now. Cesario, suggestions where we can bunk down til light?"

"The Land's End Tavern is two streets over. They would not turn us away, and we won't be the only ones seeking refuge."

"Right, everyone stay three feet behind me--" He stopped, frowning at Calponia. "Cal, can you manage to keep up?"

"Yes?" That didn't sound as confident as she hoped. It was very dark out on the streets, the zealots were little more than darker moving shadows. There was no pavement, but uneven cobbles, waiting to catch and trip up her feet.

"I'll make sure she doesn't fall," said Lady Agatha, offering her free arm.

Calponia swallowed, linking arms with the knight.

"Let's take a midnight stroll shall we?" The knight's smile was a balm as they followed Mack and Cesario's confident figures out into the night. It was Lady Agatha's confident stride that kept Calponia from falling behind, smoothly straightening her through every stumble without missing a step. All while keeping her other hand tucked tight against her side so the short blade was concealed in her swishing skirts. That lethal, elegant warrior on her arm kept Calponia from startling at the swarming zealots, grisly specters that floated around them but didn't see them thanks to whatever Mack was doing.

He didn't appear to do anything. If a group came too close, he shooed them off with a flick of fingers. Calponia could see the hanging wooden sign of the Land's End when the cobblestone roads intersected.

A figure stood at the corner, far different than cloaked zealots, in dark red robes like old blood, backlit by the nearby street lamp. It wore the same volto mask as the zealots with the exception of a dripping cross painted on the forehead. The figure held up its arms, gloved hands conducting an unseen symphony in wide sweeping motions. The movements were almost hypnotic. Calponia could feel the sway and pull of them in her bones. Lady Agatha's hold on her arm tightened as they slowly passed.

Mack stopped. Calponia halted, feeling her knees tremble. Almost against her will, her head turned, staring directly into the sunken eye sockets of the volto mask. She could feel the eyes staring back, an impossible glimmer of green in the dark.

The figure pointed at them.

"Run!" Mack's shout broke whatever sway the figure had on her.

Calponia staggered forward as Lady Agatha's arm slipped free. The knight whirled around, her skirts flowing about her in a delicate spiral as her blade flashed. Zealots poured in from every street, moving too fast. They toppled forward, crawling on all fours, their joints twisted like macabre human crabs. Her stomach rolled. Calponia ran after Cesario and Mack's retreating forms. The two of them already to the Land's End entrance. The heavy wooden door swung open with an echoing whine of wood, loud as the zealots and their puppeteer were silent.

She didn't feel herself trip. She knew the second her feet went out from under her, the bѐte noir had caught with her with a vicious intent. Her chin slammed into stone. She tasted blood, felt the bruising in her hips and knees. Her ears popped, sound flooding in with sharp relief. Mack and Cesario were shouting her name. Lady Agatha grunted as she fought through the tide of zealots. She heard the scrape and drag of footsteps on stone as a pair of black boots stopped in front of her face.

Bugger.

She looked up at the looming volto mask. Green eyes glowed within the eye sockets, as a gloved hand reached for her.