Rhenoa Abigail straightened up in her seat at the gentle knock on the door. She mentally scolded herself for nearly falling asleep.

"Come in."

The door opened and revealed a very strange sight. A large and muscular teenage boy was helping to support a much smaller boy as the two of them walked slowly and awkwardly into the room. The smaller boy had only one leg and had to hop twice for every step his larger companion took.

"Does Mutt not have his walking stick?" Rhenoa asked, not bothering to get up from her seat. There was little she could do to help in this situation, and she doubted they would even want it. Stubbornness seemed to be a key trait this generation shared.

"No, Ms. Abigail, sorry," the larger boy, Stallion, said in a quiet voice. "Mutt wanted to try...walking without it, but had a sudden dizzy spell. We are very sorry for being late."

Despite his imposing size, Sonsetta's familiar was easily the most passive of the fourth generation. The way he controlled his voice as he spoke, how he kept his head bowed and his shoulders drawn in as he led his companion into the room, told Rhenoa all she needed about him. He wouldn't be a problem. He had transitioned almost perfectly, all things considered.

The other one was another story altogether. As the two familiars found their seats, Rhenoa focused on Mutt. His eyes were strayed from hers, but not out of respect. She could see, easily, that he was not all there. Wasn't seeing the same things she or Stallion we're seeing.

Mallard had broken him, but not in the way they had intended.

"Are you capable of answering any questions I might have, Mutt?" Rhenoa asked, making sure her voice was loud enough to be taken seriously. "Clearly and without great effort?"

As she expected, the familiar did not respond right away. He did not even move, his eyes remaining cast to a dark corner of the room, his body slumped over.

Stallion was torn. The way his muscles twitched, the attempt at trying to catch Mutt's eyes without her knowing. He wanted to help the other familiar—to speak while attempting to keep a respectful silence in Rhenoa's presence.

'But why?' the witch wondered. Was it merely a sense of duty and/or fear of mutual punishment that a familiar would risk danger to help another familiar, or did Mallard sabotage this generation even worse than they had originally assumed?

A concerning problem. As Ivor had repeatedly reminded them, certain, deep-rooted feelings can remain particularly stubborn to the effects of his Knowledge. He could take away the memory, but not always the emotions that are tied to it.

Stubborn. A word Rhenoa was beginning to grow tired of hearing.

"I will not be repeating myself for this entire exchange," Rhenoa said, trying and failing to not glare hotly at the top of the little familiar's head. "I will ask only once more: are you capable—"

"Yes, I am."

Rhenoa could not quite place the emotion that lurked behind the cold, brown eyes of Madame Terrebonne's familiar. A rare thing, indeed. But she could quite easily recognize the way her own body stiffened and the feeling of being dunked in ice cold water when those eyes suddenly looked up and locked with hers.

Perhaps they were wrong in believing that Foxy was their only great problem.

"Mutt..."

Stallion appeared positively pale. At the sound of his voice, Mutt appeared to snap back to reality as his body once again slumped and his eyes once again found a dark corner of the room.

"Sorry," he muttered.

While it did not sound convincing, Rhenoa had to acknowledge that his return to his 'far-away' state made her feel leagues more at ease. She could still clearly remember the awful images that came to her head after hearing the detailed reports of the Fawn and Mallard incidents. How this small, unassuming child tore apart two of his fellow students that had been driven rabid by Fawn, how that same child beat his former teacher to near death. Both without a hint of hesitation or regret.

So, in a way, he is just what the Madame was looking for in her next familiar. How well he can be controlled would remain to be seen in the coming years.

Rhenoa did not envy their next teacher.

"First, answer me this," Rhenoa spoke, silently noting how both familiars flinched at the sound of her voice. Her prolonged silence had put the both of them on edge. Another good sign. "How are you feeling, right at this moment? What is your current mental state?"

Stallion did not answer, for she had not been looking at him. Again, he tried to covertly signal the smaller familiar who, again, made no sign that he was noticing the attempt. Rhenoa noticed, however, and it only made her wonder further.

"I don't feel good," Mutt answered, his body and eyes unmoving. "And everything hurts."

For Stallion's credit, his face remained as hard as stone. Maybe he was starting to realize how Rhenoa's eyes drifted to him whenever Mutt spoke or did not speak. But the witch had years of experience under her skin. She did not miss the way his body, almost subconsciously, leaned towards his companion. It was that little motion that told the witch everything she needed to know about this generation.

Mallard had sabotaged it all from the beginning. Either he stole away know-nothings who already knew each other, or he had encouraged them to befriend one another during their training. Though he had been killed by the very children he trained, his legacy—and his plans—would continue to live on as long as these familiars were allowed to exist.

But, then what? The Community eliminates the familiars, and then would have to deal with three insanely powerful and insanely dangerous witches. Wildwood had smartly kept them at bay, while at the same time profiting from their infighting, by providing them with familiars—the means for witches to fight one another without risking direct confrontation. If those familiars were suddenly removed from the equation, they would turn on the Community.

Separately, Lady Louise, Madame Terrebonne, and Sonsetta were a problem. Together, they would be unstoppable. Rhenoa doubted even Edgar would be able to stand up to all three at once.

So, we grasp at straws, Rhenoa assented to herself. We put a band-aid on a wound that can never be fully healed. We put our faith in a group of children who have every reason to be against us.

"Nothing good ever lasts forever," Rhenoa whispered.

"Ms. Abigail?"

"Sorry, thank you for your honesty," the witch spoke up more clearly.

Her eyes remained clear, focused, but both familiars could see she was no longer looking at either of them. No longer seeing the things they were seeing. While Stallion continued to fidget and fret, Mutt lowered his head and mouthed the words so that neither his friend nor the witch could see.

'Nothing good lasts forever.'

...

"So, after everything, we still have to go through this?"

Elizabeth Kat silently watched as Mr. Copper nearly collapsed under the heavy glare Mouse was giving him as she leaned over the table. He attempted to recover quickly, straighten his back, and readjust the expression of his face to one of sternness and seriousness. But he looked to Kat, and no doubt to Mouse, as a little man trying and failing to take charge of a situation that was far beyond him.

Not entirely his fault. He wasn't there for much of anything that happened to them. He failed spectacularly to fight off Fawn's spawns in both instances. Again, not his fault. He was only human.

"We can no longer just sweep this issue under the rug," Mr. Copper said, reasserting his dominance by leaning across the table slightly more than Mouse was. "What happened with Mallard shook this Community to its core, and they cannot simply ignore that his death may not mean the end to this."

"We killed him," Mouse reminded her Master, her voice growing cold and slightly scary. "We fought Fawn's monsters, we suffered the consequences, and, in the end, it was the familiars who put an end to the rouge witch, Minerva and the traitor, Mallard."

You weren't really there for much of it, either, Kat thought to herself. Not for both fights with Fawn and her spawns and not for the fight with the Quincy's mother. You only showed up on the tail-end to remind Foxy of how much you still matter.

"Mouse, you have to see that that does not entirely dismiss the possibility of his influence remaining a part of any one of you." Mr. Copper sank back in his chair, already tired out by the attempt at chauvinism. "Mallard was insane. Perhaps he intended to die from the start."

No, that isn't really fair, Kat argued with herself. Mouse was the one who dealt the killing blow to Mr. Mallard. If Mouse hadn't been there, then his blood would have been on her hands. Kat didn't like the idea of any part of him being a part of her.

"The only reason we are still alive is because of you, Master," Mouse insisted, her stance not relaxing. "Because you decided that day would be one of the days you weren't going to load your gun. That's it."

Saying it out-loud seemed to reign in some of Mouse's anger. Her little face relaxed a bit as she sank back into the chair beside Kat and their eyes met.

Kat wasn't very good at reading people through expression alone. Did Mouse want her to say something? Was she mad that she had been the only one making a big fuss out of things so far?

It wasn't like Kat did not care. Many things were bothering her in many different ways. If she thought too much on any one thing, her head would hurt and her eye would start to twitch, so she'd stop. There was just too much. Too much confusion, anger, hurt, and...other emotions.

Kat's body stiffened and she had to consciously force down a noise of displeasure when that same image resurfaced to her brain. The one of the boy with the long red hair lying in his bed, motionless and serene. Oh, she hated seeing him like that. It was a lie that sleep forced you in. It was a lie that made it look like nothing bothered him—like nothing would ever trouble him again.

"And how do you feel about all this, Kat?"

Kat sat up straighter at her name. Mr. Copper was looking at her expectantly while Mouse was staring at everywhere but her. She must still be mad.

"I don't feel much of anything," Kat answered. While not entirely true, the confusing swirl of so many, different, feelings had left her in a state of emptiness. She wasn't sure what to feel to who. "I'm just ready to move on."

"I am too, but we won't be able to move on if they decide to kill us due to their unfounded suspicions," Mouse said, whirling back to give Kat her most emphatic stare.

"There is no need for the dramatics," Mr. Copper chastised with a small shake of his head. When he ran a hand through his slick-backed hair, he betrayed the amount of years he had over the two young girls. "And you both must see that it is not completely unfounded. Even the hint of this generation being compromised requires this Community's full attention."

Mouse's hands tightened into fists in her lap, somewhere that her Master couldn't see, but where Kat could see easily. While she wasn't very good at reading facial queues, Kat knew the signs of someone on the brink of exploding.

She had seen it with Foxy on several occasions—with Mutt on several more. Even the collected and put together Stallion had once thrown a fit back when he was still her Georgie. Back when she had tried to run away from it all and he had been tasked with bringing her back. She had never known the chubby, awkward boy could scream so loud, or cry with such passion.

A garbled sort of noise tore Kat from her reminiscing and reminded her why she had started in the first place. Mouse was about to go to that same place the boys went to. That unreachable pit of darkness and fire.

"They won't do anything."

The effect of her words was immediate. Kat made sure both Mouse and her Master heard the stoic certainty she had mastered with her voice over the years.

The smaller girl stopped shaking while the older man visibly tensed. "And how are you so su—"

"Mouse and I are expendable," Kat continued, making sure her strange eyes locked with Mr. Copper's. She wasn't completely sure why, but her eyes tended to put people on edge—and make them less likely to try and talk over her. "You can always replace your familiar, Stalwart, without too much concern. And the remaining Quincy children do not truly need me, now that they are under the care of the Community."

That part hurt to say, that much Kat was sure. Saying those words and admitting they were true twisted up her chest and made it hard to breathe. Thinking about those children— thinking about them without her, did not sit right with Kat.

But Mr. Copper looked like he was going to take advantage of her momentary pause. Kat did not have time to think more on her thoughts or her feelings. She had to speak the truth.

"But you need the boys. Stallion, Mutt...and even Foxy. That is what this is all really about, correct? He is the uncertain element—the one you all believe is compromised."

Mouse bit her lip and suddenly looked pissed all over again. Was she upset to hear the truth? Was she just mad she did not get the chance to say it first? Kat could not be sure.

Mr. Copper did not try again to take advantage of her pause. To his credit, he kept his eye in contact with hers. A personal best, amongst all the others who tried. He was almost as good as Foxy was bad at it. Though, maybe the other eye being hidden behind a patch gave him some sort of advantage.

Kat softly shook her head before she was pulled down another unnecessary line of thought. "But you need him most of all, if all the rumors we hear about his Master are true. If only a few of those rumors are true, I still do not think this Community can suffer to deny her what she wishes. Mistake or not, compromised or not, you need him. And, if you want to keep him happy, you will need all of us, too."

"And why do you believe that?"

Mr. Copper gasped slightly as he said those words. Kat did not need to know why. He had momentarily forgotten she was there in his office. She was there when he had tried to convince Foxy to let go of his feelings for his friends, and when Foxy looked like he might have killed the Stalwart for even suggesting the idea.

This was not just some idle fantasy she was telling herself because she wanted to believe it. Whether it was Mr. Mallard's plan all along, they were all tied to one another. Foxy needed them. Stallion and Mutt needed each other. Mouse needed Foxy.

And Kat...

"You know why," Kat said. She felt Mouse's eyes on her, but refused to turn to meet them. She did not want to see the emotion and be confused by what it meant.

All was quiet in the little dirt room until Mr. Copper sighed and abruptly stood up from his chair. Mouse made to stand as well, but he waved her down. Instead, his single eye shifted back to Kat who remained in her chair and was looking back at him without flinching.

"I hope you are right."

One of his doors then appeared on the wall behind him. Without another word, he turned and walked through it. When it closed, it vanished, leaving the two young girls alone.

Kat closed her eyes and lowered her head while Mouse stood up from her chair. Without a word, the smaller of the girls walked around the table until she stood near the chair where Mr. Copper had been sitting. Kat did not lift her head or open her eyes when she heard the chair fall over on it's side.

What she heard next was a soft voice--so quiet and meek she wasn't entirely sure it was real.

"Thank you."

And while Kat could not be sure it was real, when she opened her eyes again, Mouse was looking at her and smiling.

She did not have to be a master at reading faces to see the truth.

...

*Author's Note*

So, a little different than the usual chapters (no Foxy!), but I hope you guys enjoyed it all the same. Be ready for even greater surprises in the next one!

Also please let me know what you guys think of this chapter! Your thoughts and opinions may or may not influence more chapters like this one from occurring again in the future.