the merry band

Eddie Teach

Thomas Teach

Clef Putnam

Sabrina Newell

Jay Advent

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this is part of book of revelation!

The glow of dawn painted strokes of pink and yellow over a dreary gray sky. A little boy cursed to sleepless nights gazed out the open window, weapons at his side, to watch the tapestry of colors rise over his freshly repaired home. A cool breeze washed over Eddie's skin and hair like ocean waves, and the smell of salt filled the house.

In these early hours of the morning, Eddie almost felt like he could breathe. He could enjoy the warmth of spring and feel how tantalizingly close it was to summer. He could gaze upon the streets of Salem without bright red eyes gazing back. He could look to the future and-- though a gruesome death was always lurking in the depths of his mind-- he could push it aside on nice days like this and find something to look forward to.

Eddie's mind drifted towards an afternoon that had been seared into his heart. The winter chill piling up through that very same window, seeping into Eddie's bones as he scrambled through the house, desperately fighting off the plague that threatened to take away the person he loved most. Feeling Tommy's heartbreakingly thin, bony hand hook its pinky finger around Eddie's own, making the impossible promise that everything would be okay. "When it warms up, we'll head for the beach together."

Eddie could almost feel the sand beneath his feet.

A knock on the door-- the first knock they'd heard since that terrifying winter-- pulled Eddie from his thoughts. His heart raced with excitement at the sound of those familiar voices outside. Eddie knew he was supposed to keep his guard up, but gods, he couldn't help the spring in his step. The boy raced through the house, first to his room to fish the presents from his toybox, then to the front door. A smile Eddie didn't have to fake bloomed on his face. The door swung open.

The nervous energy in Brina and Clef's eyes was interrupted by a brief flash of surprise. "Hey kitty cat, what's all of this?" Sabrina's eyes glanced up and down, flitting between the smile on Eddie's face and the wrapped presents in his hands.

"Tommy got us presents!" Excitement glimmered in Eddie's eyes. He thrust the presents into his guests' hands. One for Clef, two for Brina -- Tabby hadn't made it. A small dread loomed over the boy, but he forced it down. Tabby was fine. She probably had a meeting with her old coworkers, or maybe she was sick, or spending the night in the jailhouse. Brina would have to handle her sister's present for now. The last of the gifts, Eddie kept for himself, stored safely away until this perfect moment. Soon they could all unwrap their gifts together and celebrate their reunion as a family.

"Aww, that's sweet." The appreciation in Clef's voice didn't reach their eyes. They still looked nervous, uneasy, almost desperate. Something about this was wrong. "Could you get Tommy over here? We need to talk. It's really important."

Six months sped by in the span of a few seconds. Just like that winter's night, the reminder of what loomed over Eddie crashed down on him. A gruesome death always lurked behind these flashes of peace. "He'll be right out." Eddie's voice shifted, his expression was as blank as he could manage. The younger Teach quietly closed the door.

A moment later, it reopened, greeting Brina and Clef to the sight of Tommy, standing in front of Eddie with a foul expression on his face. "Thought I asked for privacy," Tommy hissed, glaring daggers at Brina and Clef.

"We're sorry." Clef raised their hands like they were under arrest. "But this isn't something we can wait on. It's serious."

"We didn't come to start a fight, Tommy," Sabrina cut in, wavering tension in her voice. "I swear. It's about Tabby--"

"Wait!"

Everyone turned. Eddie stood frozen behind Tommy, hands clenched tightly at his sides.

"We can't--" Eddie could barely get the words out. "We can't do this here. Not in the house. We're being watched."

Brina blinked. "Wait, what do you--"

"Not here," Eddie repeated, loud enough for his friends to hear. "We have to go. Please."

A heavy silence fell over the house.

Tommy gave Eddie a small, barely-there nod, then turned back towards their guests. "Fraggle Rock?"

Eddie looked up at his cousin with a flicker of recognition, and the dread in his posture softened. Brina and Clef glanced at each other before nodding in turn. Without another word, the four of them turned and walked into the morning haze, leaving the little house behind as a family for the first time in six months. Eddie could almost feel the sand beneath his feet.

The rock that had been the group's rallying point for nearly four years crested over the horizon, where few ships dared to pass. Eddie gripped Thomas's hand tighter. Seeing that jagged monument to their tattered friendship gave Thomas the tiniest moment of pause. The scale of time hurt like a dagger in his soul; the last time they'd met here... The sun was creeping over the horizon now, where it had just set six months ago. Their recent claims had been recorded. Thomas fell ill a week later.

A huge chunk of their friendship had been swallowed before Thomas knew what was happening. The degree to which that crushed Thomas could've pierced him through. Even with a good reason, it clawed at all of their souls. As much as he'd tried to stave off the inevitable, Thomas knew this conversation had to happen one way or another.

Clef practically skipping along on the way over there didn't help matters. A great and terrible curse loomed at the back of Thomas's throat. Before he could send that curse spewing forth, Clef and Thomas locked eyes. The moment that rich kid saw him, they froze, eyes wide and face red with realization. The pair fully stopped in their tracks, letting Sabrina and Eddie trail ahead while Thomas glared into Clef's soul.

They both took a deep breath. Neither dared to speak. After what felt like another six months, Clef started walking again-- slowly, normally, like they were starting to understand that this wasn't a game. Thomas followed suit, the tension in his mind slowly relaxing as he caught up with the others.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to make the first move. Once they'd arrived on the rock, Thomas let the four of them take in the bittersweet joy of being here, among their friends, listening to the ocean breeze and calling birds. For a moment, the band could feel the tragedies that had torn apart their friendship washing away with the tide. For just a moment.

"Eddie..." Clef began, voice shaky with trepidation more fitting than they could ever know. "What did you mean by ‘we're being watched'?"

Eddie couldn't bring himself to reply. His mouth opened and closed but no words came out, his body trembling as a thousand emotions burned in his distant eyes. Thomas, then, had to take the lead-- but the moment Thomas's mouth opened, Eddie finally found his own voice. "Tommy!" Wild panic swirled in Eddie's eyes, "Tommy, please, you can't -! They'll - we'll all die if you say something. Don't tell them, p-please...!"

Thomas looked down at Eddie, a soft sigh escaping him as he knelt. "Kiddo... it'll be okay." Thomas tried to give his younger cousin a soft smile. "If they know, they'll be able to help us-- we'll have a better chance if we all work together."

"N-No, he..." Eddie shivered. "He's g-going to find out, Tommy...! We, we can't risk it..."

"Kiddo, look at me." Thomas waited for Eddie to face him before continuing. "There's no eyes here. There were no eyes on the way here. He's not watching us." Thomas reached to put a soft hand on Eddie's shoulder. The boy seemed to relax a bit, though he still trembled like a leaf. "There's no way for him to know if he can't see us. Okay?"

"O-okay..." Eddie sniffled and sent away the last of his tears. He was trying so hard to be brave, but...

The elder Teach had to stop thinking about it, before he saw red. "Can you give Clef the journal... please?" Thomas asked softly. "It's easier to explain if they can read it, too."

Eddie shrank back further, winding up like he was poised to flee. Despite his body's feverish protests, the boy gave up the stack of papers in his rags and handed them over to Clef.

Clef's eyes glided along the paper, carefully reading every word. With each piece they read, their confusion only grew more visible. Their eyes widened at the end of the journal, nearly dropping the pages in shock. "What the-- Thomas, what is this?" The blood in those accounts dripped from the hands of all who held these cursed papers-- first Eddie, then Thomas, and now their closest friends.

"It's a long story." Thomas took a deep breath, keeping his voice low. "...D'ya remember that plan we made about Nevermore? Forget about it. We're abandoning it."

"Wait, why?" Sabrina blurted out first, eyes widening in surprise. "What happened with your claim!?"

"That." Thomas gestured to the journal in Clef's hand. "I was sick, I couldn't stake it out myself. Eddie went in my place, and..."

"Tommy...!" Eddie pleaded. Thomas tried to stop himself from wincing. There was no way to make this feel better for Eddie. To tell a soul about the secrets that had upheaved his life must have felt like drinking poison, but... Eddie needed their friends to stand by his side. They both did. Thomas held Eddie's hand as tight as he could.

Continuing still came with a sharp pain in Thomas's soul. "Nevermore -- no, War, I guess-- he... kept Eddie in his stupid house all night. Scared the hell out of him, tried to squeeze him for information about us, and cut him loose."

"All over this?" Clef glanced at the papers in their hand, before passing them over to Sabrina.

"Mmhmm. War didn't even wait a day to start hunting his prey, too." Thomas scoffed, "We were being stalked before the sun even set."

Everyone turned and looked at Eddie, who seemed just about ready to fall apart. Everyone except Clef, who turned their head as tears welled in the corners of their eyes. "Gods, I..." Clef's hand tightened against their chest. "I'm so sorry, I didn't--"

"Clef." The glare Thomas gave had a soft edge to it. "You aren't the one who's stalking us over the journal. You don't have anything to apologize for."

"We gotta do something, don't we?" Sabrina fidgeted with the journal. "I mean, jeez, this guy's been stalking you guys for months-- and him being an actual apocalyptic god is something I suspect the town'd really wanna -!"

A frenzied scream brought the world to a halt. Eddie snatched the journal back and clutched it like a lifeline. "Don't! W-we're, we're gonna d-die! Please, Brina, d-don't... don't tell anyone...!" His voice fell apart into terrified whimpers and choked sobs.

Thomas's grasp latched onto Sabrina's shoulders before he realized he had done it. "We are not going to speak a fucking word of this to anyone," the elder Teach snarled. "We'd just be throwing our lives away -- throwing Eddie's life away-- for nothing. Do I make myself clear!?" Only once Thomas was done did he let go, practically shoving Sabrina in his intense fury.

"Sh-shit, I'm sorry..." Sabrina mumbled, looking down at Eddie sadly. "Oh, kitty cat... I'm so sorry, okay? I... I won't tell anyone." The cat burglar reached out for Eddie, offering the boy a tearful smile.

Eddie didn't stop crying. He only accepted Sabrina's outstretched arms and pulled her in as tight as he could.

The four of them sat in silence for a while, trying in vain to ground themselves within the ocean waves. The bright colors of sunrise had long faded by now, homogenizing into a dreary blue gray. The sounds of the tide and faraway ships were cut by the sound of hushed sobs and whispered promises. Rage bubbled beneath the surface of all the adults' fear. Anger with themselves. Anger on behalf of the broken home that their little group had become. Anger at the god that had torn apart their friendship and the minds of those most affected in one fell swoop.

Absolute raging fury at the fact that none of them could do a single thing about it.

Thomas's rage boiled over first. "Even speaking to you has put us all in more danger than you can possibly imagine." The man's voice was low and dangerous. "So whatever you two have come to me for, it had better be--"

"My sister is missing."

Thomas had a face like shattered glass. The anger in his chest dissolved so quickly, it made him dizzy. "I-- Brina, I didn't know--" The words fell out of him in a panicked tumble. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-- gods, I had no idea." Thomas stepped forward, arms half-lifted, poised to reach for her, then stopped. He didn't have the right. "We'll find Tabitha. I swear to you, we'll do anything to help. Just..."

Sabrina didn't look at him. Her arms stayed crossed, jaw tight and eyes forward. Her silence said everything.

Sabrina's gaze cut like daggers, not towards Thomas, but piercing straight into Clef's soul. "You said you had a lead, Clef," she snarled. "But you wouldn't tell me a thing, just that. Just kept insisting I stay put. Like my safety was somehow more important than Tabby's." Her voice cracked just slightly at the end, but the anger held. "I did what you asked. I came to get Thomas. We're here. Now, spit it out. What do you know?"

Clef couldn't speak right away. They stared at the rock beneath them like it might open up and swallow them whole, then glanced up at Sabrina's glare. "I..." Clef's voice was small, trembling before the weight of their words. "I think my mother's the serial killer." A moment's pause. The springtime air turned to ice above the waves. "I - and I'm dead serious about this-- I saw a whole prison under her manor last night."

Even the ocean seemed to fall quiet. Sabrina blinked once, then again, as if the words hadn't quite reached her ears. "What the fuck," the cat burglar breathed. "You knew the whole... You saw that last night, and you didn't think to tell me!?" Sabrina's claws looked ready to tear into something. Clef flinched at the sight.

"I begged you, Clef." Sabrina took a sharp step forward. "I came to you, because my sister was missing and I trusted you would help me, only for you to--"

"I know," Clef said softly, trembling in every limb. "I know, I just -- gods, Brina, I couldn't tell you there without making it worse. If you had charged into that manor alone, if she caught you..." The serial killer's child shook their head rapidly, as if jostling some horrible thought out of their mind. "I couldn't lose you too, Brina. I needed all of us to come back together for this. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to --"

Sabrina's furious growl cut through the air. She wiped at her eyes with the heel of her palm. "We are going to that manor. Right now." Sabrina's voice cut like steel, her eyes blazed, her expression dared anyone to argue.

No one did. No one moved.

A horrible realization plunged into Thomas's soul. He turned to Eddie.

"So... what about the kid?" Thomas barely heard Clef's voice.

Three options laid before the elder Teach. Bring the kid into the lair of a woman who'd built a prison beneath her floorboards. Sit this one out and break his promise to Sabrina as soon as it had been made. Or...

Thomas's throat tightened. He remembered too well what happened last time he wasn't there. The trashed furniture, the house torn apart in a blind panic, the sobs echoing from the cellar when Thomas had finally come home and found Eddie hiding in the dark, whimpering pleas and apologies to shadows.

Eddie's grip tightened in Thomas's hand. "I'm coming." The boy's voice was steadier than his heart, Thomas could tell. "If you're going, I am too."

"Are you sure?" Thomas asked, crouching down to meet his little cousin's eyes. "Once we leave the south side, things will be different. The rest of town... there will be eyes up there."

Eddie stiffened. He didn't look up.

"I know you could handle danger if it comes to that, but... I still worry about you. Especially now." Thomas made his voice firm, even though it made the dagger in his soul plunge deeper. "I need to know you'll be okay."

"I will." Eddie trembled, but he forced it down and looked into Thomas's eyes. "I'm still coming. It doesn't matter how scary it'll be. I won't stay behind. Not again."

Thomas studied Eddie's face again. The thief who outfoxed the gods could never fool his older cousin. Terror swirled in the little boy's eyes, his limbs quivered like they could barely hold him up. Eddie was pretending to be braver than he was. Not lying, exactly, but holding himself together by willpower alone. Still, Eddie had made his choice between three terrible evils.

"Alright," Thomas said softly. "Then we stick together."

The four of them descended from Fraggle Rock and turned towards the road. Northward, towards danger, together.

Raucous laughter and shambling footsteps faded away in the afternoon sun. A band of thieves slipped out of their poor neighborhood, hand in hand.

A wall of bright red eyes gazed into them all at the edge between the haves and the have-nots. Even knowing it was coming, the constant gaze of a god outside the slums made Eddie's heart jump into his throat. This was a terrible idea. He could turn back now, while he still had the chance. Maybe being alone wouldn't be so -

No.Eddie knew better.

Resolve slowed the boy's pounding heart, but not by much. He stayed close to Tommy's side and subtly pulled the group away from War's gaze as much as he could. It was far from an easy task. War's eyes were everywhere. In the reflections of polished windows, in the cracks between bricks, in the corners of signs and gas lamps. They flickered and vanished, only to reappear when Eddie least expected them, blinking in and out of sight as if War's focus was shifting. Stepping through these uncanny streets felt like walking a tightrope strung between the rooftops, with the wrath of a god waiting for him to fall.

Eddie tried to focus on the buildings themselves, to look at anything but those bright red eyes. He tried to distract himself with carved door frames and tiled windows and smooth stone pathways. This was the part of town that people called ordinary, but nice. To a little boy in tattered rags, this place straddled the line between wealthy and truly normal. Every time Eddie tried to take in one of these little luxuries, the boy's gaze would catch another pair of bright red eyes. Whenever Eddie thought he saw something beautiful-- bright stained glass, shimmering metal-- those eyes would be right there with it.

One solace prevented Eddie from shattering. War could never have known they would be here. The god had shown a touch of mercy by averting his constant gaze over the past month. The Teaches were granted just enough privacy to breathe. That the eyes were everywhere in this side of town, far from where Eddie was expected to venture without notice, meant War was watching someone else.

The thought sent a chill down Eddie's spine, equal parts relief and dread melding together. He imagined the other soul who had earned War's ire. Was it another terrified child, clutching their last shreds of sanity without the resilience Eddie had learned in the slums? Was it a grown adult, driven to the same nightmares and paranoia without someone to care for them as Tommy cared for Eddie? What could this stranger have done to find themself stalked by a god, when only Eddie held the secret that had sent War's wrath crashing down on his broken home?

Eddie shook his head. It didn't matter now, not when the task was so great.

A band of thieves took cover under the deep shade of trees, just short of the walled garden where the highest of elites collected their taxes and pretended to be unaware of the atrocities within their inner circle. The eyes of a god had slowly faded in the journey up to Heaven. At the edge of the walled garden that separated wealthy folk who wore the mask of normal citizens from elites who had no use for such pretenses, they had vanished entirely. There were no eyes here.

Eddie almost felt like he could breathe. He made his way towards the shimmering gate that shielded this part of town from the needs of the less fortunate, but Clef stopped him and produced a key ring from their back pocket. The ancient metal still squealed as it opened, making the band of thieves wince. As soon as the gate had cracked enough for them all to fit through, the three who had never been here before ventured forward, while Clef stayed back to lock the door behind them.

The band's pace was a crawl now-- in part to avoid catching the attention of any guards who may have resided here, and in part to take in the incredible luxury hidden away behind leaves and gilded gates. The houses here looked like they were made for giants. Onate carvings adorning every wooden surface, towering columns of stone supporting the elites' enormous porches, vast tapestries of stained glass and painted canvas. These facades all turned what should have been a community of houses into monuments of wealth and dominion. Even the manor of a god looked small in comparison.

Six months ago, Eddie would have drooled at the sight.

Clef stared at the gargantuan door of Putnam Manor. The angel carvings on the wood seemed to loom over them, taunting them with those perfect faces, flying above the judgement of even kings and nobles. Slowly, Clef's eyes drifted down from the intricate cherubs to gaze at the keys in their palm. The serial killer's child couldn't help their heart from racing with excitement, with terror, with all the rage and resentment they'd harbored towards their mother, with every foul word they'd ever choked back... to keep themself alive, in hindsight. Clef forced themself to stop. A slow breath, then another. When the moment passed, they gingerly slid the key into the lock.

A house made for giants looked even more enormous on the inside. The three who had never been here before could hardly stop themselves from gasping at the immense luxury that covered every surface of the duchess's abode. The towering foyer rose like the mouth of a cathedral. The vaulted ceilings were painted with delicate gold-leaf patterns. Chandeliers taller than Sabrina's entire living room hung from above. The walls were filled to bursting with imported artworks and ancestral portraits that stared down at them like the judges of Heaven.

None dared to speak. This was still a heist. It was eerie just how quiet the manor was. Clef expected servants and guardsmen to be sweeping the place, cleaning up the damage from last night and protecting Martha's domain from people like them. But there was... nothing. The house was dead. No signs of life or movement in the manor of a serial killer, just the shuffling sounds of an army from above. Clef could only hope that army didn't march down here. They shook the thought out of their head. This wasn't a game. While a serial killer lived in Heaven, those beneath the floors saw this place as worse than the pits of Hell.

Clef paced around the foyer, frustration furrowing in their brow. Where was it, where was it, where was it? Clef was wasting time here. Their neighbors-- Their friends, Sabrina's sister, was suffering beneath them, and their worthless mind couldn't even dredge up a location they had been to just yesterday. Clef would hit the person they were last night if it would do them any good. Each second their mind failed to obey them threatened to make the screams within it real. The rest of the band was counting on them to lead, Clef could see the anxiety on their faces growing by the second, this was the simplest task in the world, where was it!?

A sudden noise made Clef stop. Their frame coiled tight with tension. Their nails dug into their palms. Glittering light from the chandelier above shattered the sun's dim light into a thousand shimmering gems. Maybe, if they could retrace their steps, they could twist their disobedient mind into remembering how they got from the ballroom to the depths of Putnam Manor.

The ballroom doors creaked open, and Clef quickly stepped through, their pulse thrumming beneath their ribs. The place was pristine. Almost. The shattered chandelier was gone, a new one replaced it like it had never been broken at all. The scorch marks from candle flames and melted wax were scrubbed clean. The chairs and tables were rearranged, the floor was polished until it gleamed under the setting sun that filtered through the windows.

The ballroom had been reset in no time at all. Clef motioned silently for the others to follow, and the band of thieves crept in behind them, quieted by the weight of their task. The marble floor reflected their silhouettes in warped fragments, and the air carried the faint scent of wax and smoke. Burned out, cleaned up, but not gone completely.

It was Sabrina who nearly took the first false step. Clef's arm shot out across her chest, stopping her just short of a thin scattering of glass that faintly glinted under the setting sun. Clef pointed towards the sharpened fragments on the floor. The others slowed. Thomas squinted, Eddie recoiled. They all saw it now, the thin dusting of leftover shards near the center of the room. The band stepped carefully around it, just as the nobles likely hadn't the night before.

Clef crossed the ballroom, pulling slightly away from the others. Their footsteps echoed softly against marble and dim light. Now music now, no crowd, no meaningless chatter. They climbed the small lip of the stage and came to a halt at its center. A waltz emerged within Clef's mind, taunting the serial killer's child with its carefree golden joy. Their fingers twitched instinctively where the violin should have been. Their eyes drifted towards the clean, polished, almost gleaming doppelganger of the chandelier. Before Clef knew it...

A violent crash. Shattered glass and screams echoed in Clef's mind. Candles flung from their holders. Fire danced briefly before vanishing into thin air. Glass splintered across the floor. A phantom crowd ran in all directions, desperate to escape a room that had turned on them. Clef stood still for just a moment, in the place where it had all begun. They closed their eyes and reached through their memories of chaos. The screaming, the shoving, the darkness, the cue.

They went... that way.

Clef's eyes snapped open. They turned heel and strode off stage, chasing the ghost of last night's footsteps before it faded away again. The serial killer's child pretended not to notice the glances exchanged between the three who had never been here before.

Clef led the group down the grand hall, past kitchen and linen closets and rooms full of secrets not fit for the faint of heart. Beyond the ballroom, along the hall, the echoes of last night had reduced to distant muffles. Still, Clef remembered the heavy door that had caught their eye. They produced a key from their pocket and sauntered back into Martha's study.

The room smelled of polished wood, dried ink, and the faintest scent of something sweet. Everything was exactly as it had been last night. The journal drawer was untouched. The quill holder still pointed south instead of west. The paperweight was still flipped upside down. The rose petals, their soft red curls scattered across the desk like dried blood, still lay right where Clef had crushed them.

While Clef drifted around the room, trying to rethread memories from their path of destruction, the rest of the band began to explore this monolith of defiance. Sabrina hovered near a display case of ornate trinkets and ancient runes etched in gold and silver. Her gaze shifted from item to item, locking on something with an absurd amount of gemstone detailing and an even more absurd lack of functional purpose. Sabrina's claws made quick work of the lock. The case popped open. The cat burglar scooped ornamental runes, embroidered silks, and gem-encrusted brooches into her bag, selecting the gaudiest ones with almost theatrical flair.

"Finders' fee," she whispered, flashing Thomas a grin.

Thomas barely heard her. He was already glancing through the bookshelves for anything with a suspicious binding or a false back, searching for information that would outshine gold. A stack of folded papers beneath a broken frame screamed suspicion in the elder Teach's ears. Thomas pulled the papers free and carefully flipped through each page. They were full of names, dates, payment logs. Thomas's chest tightened as he read further. Beside each name was a set of cold, clinical notes covered in fastidious handwriting.

Belladonna Hamilton. Observed purchasing nightshade and mustardseed for potions.

Isaiah Escobar, Lupin Baron, Oscar Yates. Engaged in regular late night gatherings behind the Warren tailor shop. Likely Coven meetings.

Hazel Evans. Reported sudden illness shortly after contact with Oliver McCormick. Probable hex.

Thomas's hands shook. He saw that woman with the nightshade, planting it in her garden to keep stray cats away from her herbs. He heard those men singing under the full moon by the tailor shop, just having some fun at the end of their shifts. He remembered the little girl forced to throw up to fulfill some ritual of beauty, and running to her teacher for help when the effects took their toll on her body. Martha wasn't there for any of it. She hadn't seen the people behind those names and snapshots of their lives. To the duchess, they were nothing more than targets. Thomas's jaw clenched. He carefully folded the papers and slipped them inside his coat.

Eddie stayed closer to the door at first, his guard firmly raised, watching for anything that might lurk outside. But even he stepped cautiously toward a little jewelry box tucked away in a low drawer, filled with jewelry that sparkled in a rainbow of colors. The box sat with its lid half-cracked, like Martha started to open it and then forgot. The box was carved from deep black ebony, its edges inlaid with tiny silver vines and delicate leaves. The little boy's fingers hesitated, for only a moment, before slipping the box and its brightly colored gems into his tattered rags. Someone in the cellar beneath his feet dreamed of something like this.

Sabrina rifled through another drawer, eyes still glinting with petty revenge as she sorted glitter from gold. A small silver chain caught her eye -

And then she froze. The cat burglar's fingers hovered just inches away. She couldn't quite bring herself to touch it. That would make it real. A silver necklace, with a rose pendant. The chain was slightly kinked on the left side, from when its clasp had broken and Lupin insisted on fixing it himself. Sabrina stared at it like it might disappear. The cat burglar's eyes burned with tears she wouldn't let fall. Sabrina pressed the back of her hand to her face, quick as her quadrupedal kin, and stuffed Lupin's necklace deep into her coat. Sabrina would deal with this later. She had work to do.

A sharp click echoed in the distance. Sabrina turned in time to see Clef pop their head out from another room and lead them down through a narrow hallway off the main corridor. The band of thieves ventured past another lavish sitting room, around another dark corner, into what looked like a dead end behind a too-perfect tapestry. Clef pawed around a wall that reflected light in strange patterns for a while, until their palm pressed on a switch embedded in the wall.

The entire group shuddered at the awful screech that escaped the hidden passage that emerged. The scraping of the smooth wall was loud enough to form into a looming dread within them all. The moment the entrance was wide enough to fit their bodies, the band of thieves wriggled through and down the stairs. Cold air rushed up from the darkness. Sabrina's blood turned to ice.

The cellar smelled like old rot and damp stone and something faintly sweet. The chill worsened with every step they took. The silence grew heavy, shattered by the creak of boots on wood that cracked like thunder in Sabrina's ears. The more they descended, the more the light dimmed, until the exit behind them was swallowed by darkness and the candlelight ahead came into view.

Worst of all was the sight at the bottom. Rows of cages. Thick iron bars lined the walls in long, symmetrical rows stretching across the cellar like a second skeleton built into the bones of this house made for giants. Deep scratches marred the stone floors and walls where claws or tools had dragged in a desperate struggle to survive. Mementos of the dead and dying were scattered throughout the cellar. A cracked teacup. A pair of glasses missing one lens. A boot too small for an adult foot.

And blood. So much blood. Blood streaked along the floor, smeared in thick streams down the walls, soaked into torn bedding. Blood dried in patterns that told stories Sabrina didn't want to imagine. Blood dripped down the bars and collected at the edges of each cage. Blood seeped into the stone and stained the whole place that awful red.

Underneath it all, woven through patches of silence, were faint sobs. Shaky gasps, screams of terror and despair, muffled and echoed off of walls Sabrina couldn't see. The sound was like a match striking in Sabrina's chest, igniting four waves of fury in her heart.

The first came hot and fast. Rage at Martha, the woman who built this place like an extension of her home. The serial killer who laid down stone and steel and blood and acted like it was for the good of Salem. Sabrina pushed past the rest of the band and stomped across the cellar. Her boots hit stone with sharp, purposeful booms, all subtlety discarded now. Let Martha hear her. Let the duchess know the judges of Hell had not turned a blind eye.

The second hit harder. Fury at Sheriff Rhodes, for every report Sabrina had desperately filed, her shaky hands covered in ink and callouses. For the way she had prayed someone would listen, someone would help. For the night Sabrina had found them shoved in the corner of Rhodes's own cellar, tossed into a crate like trash. Sabrina's jaw clenched so hard it ached. The cat burglar stormed between the cages, her footsteps accelerating with her heart.

The third cut deep, laced with the poison of betrayal and the salve of love. Clef... gods, Clef. The serial killer's child, the one who held her tight in lieu of words and gave her a place to rest. The friend who dried her tears and made her smile. The scoundrel who thought protecting her was more important than saving Tabby a second sooner. Sabrina wanted to grab something and tear it apart, but those claws stayed useless at her sides. The tears Sabrina fought to hold back all day finally started to fall. A slow, quiet sting down her cheeks that she didn't bother to wipe off.

The fourth wave of fury nearly shattered Sabrina. Vile, noxious contempt, aimed towards herself. Sabrina hadn't noticed the signs when she had the chance. She'd brushed off strange silences and shifting shadows. She hoped-- gods, she had hoped-- that the authorities so eager to arrest drunkards and vagrants would step in when someone truly needed them. Sabrina Newell hadn't gotten here fast enough, and now she walked in the blood of the neighbors she failed.

"Tabby!" The cat burglar started running. She didn't think. She didn't look back. She was blind to her friends, blind to the blood, blind to all the world except one thing.

"...Sabrina?" The voice that returned was hoarse and raw. Almost too faint to hear. The kind of voice one used when they couldn't let themself believe something was real.

Sabrina ran at a speed that would terrify the gods. Every inch between her and her big sister felt like miles. Tabitha sat against the bars a light year away, her arms wrapped around her knees, her face gaunt and stained with blood but unmistakably real. As soon as Sabrina reached the cage, her claws clicked against the old iron lock while her free hand grabbed those accursed bars like the place might dissolve away if she didn't hold on. "Tabby," she gasped. Her voice threatened to fall apart. "Oh my gods, Tabby--"

Tabitha reached for her sister, her claws trembling in the most heartbreaking way. "You... you came."

"Of course I came," Sabrina sniffled. "I'm so sorry, Tabby, I'm so sorry it took this long--"

"Don't blame yourself." Tabby forced a smile through her pain. "You're here now. You found me."

Sabrina laughed, a sharp, broken sound that barely masked the clanging of this horrible lock and the footsteps of her friends catching up. "Yeah. We did. We're getting you out. I promise."

"I kept holding on," Tabitha's voice was barely a whisper. "Even when it got bad, I kept hoping you'd find me."

"I thought you were dead," Sabrina's words cracked with tears. "I thought I'd never find you. That you were j-just gone-- like the others --"

Tabitha paused for a moment, her own hands turning white against the bars. An agony Sabrina could never imagine distorted her sister's face. "I did too."

For a moment, only the clicks of tumblers echoed in the air. Shaky, uneven breaths both Newells tried to hold soon followed. Then the soft shuffle of footsteps catching up, slowing as they reached the cage. Sabrina's claws kept working the mechanism. Every second dragged for eternity.

The lock gave a defeated click.

Tabitha's cage opened wide. In an instant, Sabrina pulled her big sister into her arms. Tabby collapsed into the embrace with a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh. Thomas rushed in to join them, his arms wrapping around them both and squeezing as tight as he could. Clef hovered for a second before joining in, slipping one hand over Sabrina's back and the other on Tabitha's shoulder.

The four of them held each other in the eye of a storm they hadn't escaped just yet. Tabby trembled in Sabrina's arms, torn between flinching at the touch and burying herself in the moment while she could. It broke Sabrina's heart more than her sister could ever know. But Tabitha was warm. She was breathing. She was alive.

That would have to be enough.

While the adults bore the burden of their partner, their sister, their friend; Eddie carried the weight of the bloodstained cellar alone. He bolted across the hall, moving like a shadow despite his frantic pace. The little boy slipped past the adults before anyone noticed he was gone. His hands shook with terror and excitement and something else his mind didn't have room to process yet. Eddie knelt by the first cage and drew a pin from the inside of his sleeve.

Click. Unlocked. Eddie moved on.

He couldn't hold the adults' grief or fury. Eddie couldn't carry the weight of Tabby's name, or the sobbing that cracked like thunder in this twisted mockery of the safety in his own home. All he could do was keep moving.

Click. Another lock fell away.

The victims inside those cages who could still move stared at Eddie like he was a phantom sent from the pits of Hell. Eddie didn't speak, only smiled. The ghost in tattered rags helped Martha's victims up when he could and pressed onward. No time to waste.

Click. There were so many people.

There had to be a dozen or more, each stuffed in a prison cell smaller than a broom closet. Some cages were empty on a closer look, just tattered rags and bloodstains left behind by a woman who didn't see his side of Salem as people. Most were horribly full. The people still inside shrunk back as far as they could from the noise, too weak or terrified to approach. A few flinched at the sounds of metal landing on stone. One woman tried to bite Eddie's fingers when the boy offered his hand.

Click. Eddie didn't blame her. He just moved on. The boy's pace accelerated with his heart, each cage Eddie opened made the weight of what he'd shoved aside press against his ribs. War's bright red gaze, blinking from rooftops and reflections and the depths of Eddie's mind. He forced himself not to think about the eyes right now. They weren't here.

They would be. The pins Eddie tossed aside hammered into his own coffin. War watched the band of thieves come to this place, and he would watch them return with Martha's victims safely in tow. He'd handed the god a perfect excuse to come knocking in the guise of a cop, with a badge and a soft voice and Tommy's life crushed between his fingers.

More than just Tommy's life. He had condemned Brina and Clef too.

Eddie shoved it aside. There were no eyes here. Pins and tumblers clicked in the little boy's dextrous hands, a quiet rhythm that kept Eddie from shattering. He kept unlocking cages. That rhythm kept pace with his heart. Anything to pull his mind away. Eddie couldn't dwell for long, not with the weight of a dozen people he had to carry alone.

Most of the cages were empty now, or near enough. Just one left. Eddie stepped up to the bars like any other. His fingers were already working the lock before he even registered the man inside. This one looked a bit different than the others. The man must have been a recent victim. He was alert, upright, intently watching a ghost in tattered rags slowly break him free.

While Eddie's hands moved on their own, his eyes scanned the last of Martha's victims. This man's clothes were... strange. He wore thin layers of fabric that didn't match. Underneath a tattered brown coat was what looked to be a pristine white suit jacket, buttoned high and too clean for a place like this. The distinct style of the time travelers, a style Eddie had seen before, in the manor of a god. Martha's last victim gave Eddie a warm smile. The man's hair was thick and coily, his skin was deep and warm but dulled by grime and dust. A glimmer of hope shined in his red eyes -

Eddie yelped. Wild panic swelled in his heart. His vision blurred, his breath hitched. Eddie scrambled away from the bars like they'd burned him. He barely felt the pain of his shoulder slamming into the wall at his back. All sensation was reserved for that all too familiar red. The burning gaze of a god seared into Eddie's mind. The boy's chest tightened, his legs tensed, every fiber in his being screamed at him to run.

Eddie wiped away the tears that formed in his eyes, and made himself look again. The man hadn't moved. His red eyes were still there, they just weren't glowing or burning. This stranger bore deep, rich red eyes, like blood or rust. He wasn't War, or an acolyte. He wasn't poised to strike. He was just... a regular guy. Eddie's heart raced to catch up with the panic that had just surged through him.

There were no eyes here.

A flash of guilt struck like lightning. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so-- so sorry--" Eddie dropped to his knees and fumbled with the lock again, working it twice as fast now, his hands trembling as the pin caught the edge of the old rusted metal. "You're okay. You're okay, I've got you, I just--"

Click. Eddie swung the door open and stepped aside to let Martha's last victim out.

Familiar footsteps echoed behind him. "Eddie?" Tommy called, barely loud enough to be heard. He was at Eddie's side before the others could even move. The little boy clutched Tommy's hand like a lifeline, grounding himself with the solace that he wasn't alone. 'You okay, kiddo?" Tommy asked, just as quiet as before, meeting Eddie's eyes with a smile they both desperately needed.

"Yeah. I'm-- I'm fine." Eddie nodded, too fast.

Tommy's face said it all. He didn't believe it, but he didn't press.

The band of thieves took one look at Eddie, still shaking like a leaf, crouched near the open cage at Tommy's side, and quickened their pace. Clef arrived next, followed closely by Brina and Tabby. The band's gaze shifted from Eddie to the red-eyed man stepping slowly through the cellar. Clef gave Eddie a nod. Brina lingered a step back, just close enough for Eddie to approach when he was ready. Tabby's hand stayed in her little sister's, reeling from her own terror.

Tommy stayed close, squeezing Eddie's hand as tightly as he could manage. "You did good."

Eddie let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

An army of the slums moved through the manor like ghosts. Up the stairs, through the hidden hallway, into the light from above. The survivors' bare feet brushed against imported rugs and polished tile that had never been made to take in so much blood. The opulence around them felt obscene now, lavish paintings and crystal chandeliers towering above bruised shoulders and clothes dyed red.

None dared to break the silence that hung heavy in so many throats. Brina kept her arm wrapped tightly around Tabby's waist, half-leading and half-carrying her through the halls of Heaven. Tommy walked just ahead of Eddie, glancing back every so often just to keep the boy from shattering. Clef lingered behind. Their eyes flickered over every dark corner, like the serial killer's child was waiting for Putnam Manor to lash out at them one last time.

"Hey, kid." The red-eyed man made his way to Eddie's side, matching his pace with an ease that made it clear he wasn't looking to start trouble. His voice was more curious than anything. "What was that all about?"

Eddie tensed up before he could stop himself. He focused on angel carvings in the walls, the way the nearest doors nearly gleamed with polish, how Tommy didn't turn around but Eddie could feel his cousin's attention shift towards him. Eddie's pulse rang in his ears. The whole truth would be suicide. But he owed Martha's last victim something. "You, um..." Eddie stumbled with his words. "You... look like someone who hurt me." It felt like nowhere near enough and far too much at the same time.

The man gave him a sidelong glance. Not accusatory, just a little sharp, in a way Eddie deserved. "Did I... do something?" he asked again, a little quieter now. "I know a half-truth when I hear one."

Another lightning flash. Eddie hated that he'd hurt someone undeserving, someone who'd already been hurt more than enough. "I-I'm sorry," he mumbled. "It was your eyes, they're... they're the same. I-- I wasn't ready to see that. That's all. I panicked. I didn't mean--" Eddie cut himself off, squeezing his hands into fists at his sides. "I didn't mean to treat you like a monster."

They walked in silence for a moment. Past ballrooms and parlors, down corridors of gold and ivory, through doors taller than most of them had ever seen. Until finally, the foyer opened into view. The red-eyed man exhaled, deep and heavy and shaky like Eddie's own breaths. "You didn't. Don't worry about it, little man."

The gates of Heaven opened. A band of thieves poured back into the world below with an army of the slums.

Eddie stayed near the front, just behind Tommy at the head of the crowd. The survivors moved in slow silence, a shuffling mass of bruised bodies and torn coats, dazed by the light of a world that tried to forget about them. Houses made for giants loomed around them all, their beauty soured by their circumstances. The marble walkways felt a mile wide. The hedges blotted out the sun. Towering columns of stone looked like iron bars. The emotions swirling in Eddie's mind turned what should have been a community of houses into monuments of death. No one wanted to linger here. The walled garden trailed behind them, and Salem stared back at the survivors.

Street lamps flickered from above the army of the slums as they moved deeper into town. A wall of bright red eyes gazed into their souls - gazed at Eddie, for the god was certainly watching him now. And War's eyes were everywhere. In the depths of alleyways, in glass carriage windows, tucked behind weathervanes on curved rooftops. Eddie whipped around, quivering with fear, wishing he could nudge the group out of sight like he had before.

Eddie's breath hitched, his vision blurred, his fingers twitched at his sides. The boy kept his gaze low, staring at the ground. There was nowhere else to turn. The bright red eyes of a god bored into his mind anyway. Eddie couldn't pull his family away this time. He couldn't even run. War knew. He knew, he knew, he knew. He saw their faces, he saw them gaze back at a god. Eddie didn't stop Tommy when he could. Eddie let them hear it, let them know what War was, and now he was going to -

A familiar squeeze tightened around Eddie's hand, tugging gently at the visions swirling in his mind. Eddie gave a shallow nod, and forced himself to look up. The band of thieves guided the survivors under the moonlight, and the glint of red eyes that watched from every patch of empty space.

Over a dozen survivors passed by the police station without a glance in its direction. The evidence in Sabrina's bag spoke where she could not. After what she'd seen, no one here would ever trust the badge and uniform again. Rhodes would throw them all back into those cages just to uphold the status quo. So the band of thieves ignored the grand columns of the precinct, slipped down narrow streets, guided their procession through dark alleyways and dirt paths until the iron-gated entrance of the jailhouse came into view.

Click. One last lock fell to the ground, muffled by dirt and footsteps.

An army of the slums poured into the jailhouse, a dozen voices fighting to be heard.

"She locked us in cages--"

"I was down there for weeks--"

"Behind the ballroom-- behind the walls--"

"She called us all witches--"

"There were so many-- most of us didn't make it--"

The sword that served as Jay's badge of office clattered to the ground, making all the survivors flinch. When they dared look up again, the army of the slums was met with a tired smile from a warden who hadn't slept in days. His uniform was half buttoned-up, his eyebrows furrowed deep enough to leave shadows. Jay's gaze flicked from one person to another as the tide of them poured in.

"All right. First order of business-- all of you, inside, now." Jay stepped back towards an icebox by his desk, letting the crowd push further inside. "You're safe now. Whatever happened-- whatever this is, we'll figure it out in a bit. Find a spot, get warm, get some rest. I've got you."

The tension in a few of the survivors started to ease, just enough to stagger towards benches and take the water and snacks Jay offered. Panic still jolted through the air, but the smiles and sweets made the survivors' escape feel real.

The last of Martha's victims stumbled through the iron gates. Jay closed the door, gently, making sure to leave the front gate unlocked. The cells would hold, and the last thing anyone before him needed was to be imprisoned again. People lined every wall of the jailhouse's front office. Some sat on benches, some on the floor, some just leaned on each other. Their torn clothes and hollow faces told a story Jay instinctively braced himself for.

The jailhouse warden ran a hand through his hair for a moment, just to give them all time to breathe. "Alright," Jay said, quieter now. "Second order of business... one of you, I'm not picky, tell me what happened."

Another pause. The army of the slums exchanged glances. Then, slowly, a woman stepped forward who looked about fifty but was probably younger. Her arms were wrapped in a coat that fit her long ago but now clung tightly to her wrists. A gash ran down one of her cheeks, deeper than the scars over Jay's left eye. "The duchess took us."

A shiver ran down Jay's spine. "What...?" He stared at this woman like she'd just spoken Greek. "Martha Putnam did this to you?"

The woman nodded. "There's a dungeon in her house. We were locked up down there like-- like animals..." Tears fell from the survivor's eyes as her breath caught in her throat. "I w-was alone when Martha took me, and I'd been there for... for... I d-don't even know. There was no way to tell, th-there was only..." Her words blended with her tears. She couldn't keep going.

The words practically shoved Jay back into his chair. He opened his mouth, but words were beyond him now. The jailhouse warden could hardly breathe.

A dark young man with deep red eyes, looking disheveled but almost clean in comparison, put a hand on the woman's shoulder and stepped in front of her. "There were four of them who got us out. A man, a woman, a little boy, and the duchess's own kid." Another shock Jay couldn't process before the red-eyed man kept talking. "They knew Tabby well, but the little angel didn't like me very much." A chuckle escaped the man's lips, taking humor in whatever he could. "Gods, he couldn't have been older than twelve. Kid went from cage to cage, just..." The red-eyed man turned, gesturing to the entrance, then stopped. Confusion furrowed in his brow.

Jay followed dozens of eyes to the empty courtyard. Not a sign of what the man described, save for something gleaming from below. Gold, silver, gemstones that sparkled like starlight under the moon. Ribbons of silk threaded through chains and bracelets and embroidered bolts too fine for the army of survivors lay just inside the jailhouse's iron gates. A duchess's ransom of stolen gifts.

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