25. Doomsday [I] [part II]

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And then the light disappeared.

The shroud of misery immediately lifted, letting the four breathe again.

In front of them, Staccato was looking at the treble clef. They couldn't see his face, but his body language was in complete disarray, compared to before, showing clear signs of disbelief and frustration. The hand that held the golden jewel trembled mightily, his fingers so tense around it that, if it had been any other non-magic material, he would have probably crumpled it like a paper sheet with the sheer power of his anger.

«So... that's embarrassing!» joked Chico.

«You shut your mouth.» Staccato hissed, completely off. He jerked his hood to stare in Banshee's direction.

She took a step back, gun pointed.

«Hey, I don't know what ye're going through man, but ye have to calm down.» she tried to say. «Ye're a good person, pack up and go.»

«Oh no, my precious little heart.» he said, mockingly. «We've only just begun.»

He turned back into the liquid and slithered away, leaving behind a lot of anguish and the godawful smell. Vopros took up the air freshener and started to get rid of the smell in the good old way.

«Banshee, que puta mierda? "Ye're a good person"? Are you drunk?» Chico asked her with his eyes wide open.

She took a deep breath and passed a hand on her face.

«My magic was kindled by a near-death experience.» she said. Vopros stopped mid-movement. Garaham didn't make a sound. «Ok, let's call it with its name, a death experience. I was dead. For several minutes, I was dead.»

«Is this a long origin story you never told us because Mages never spill?» Chico put a full whiskey glass in her hand.

«Fuck aye.» she nodded «I'm cutting the sentimental shit though, it's ok?»

she didn't wait for an answer «I have a twin. His name's Killian. We've close twins, even if not the kind of twins ye see, all sticky and stuff. But sure, we loved doing things together, and one of those things was to join... let's call it a group of independentist national fighters, in Ireland.»

«You mean the I...» Vopros started. She glared at him. He closed his mouth.

«It's all good and nice when ye're young and stupid. We really thought we were making a difference, beating up people. In some occasions... more than beating them up.» her eyes lost their light for a second, but she chose to go on «Until one day we discovered our chief lied to us. He wanted us to blow up a residential street. Me brother went straight to the police, while me husband and me...»

«...and I.» Garaham snarled.

«Jeez, Queenie!» Banshee snapped.

«You're married?» Chico chimed in.

Banshee's face darkened, and the Mexican rapidly understood he had been making the worst question.

«I was. I got married at 18. With my lieutenant, of the... independentist cell.» she sighed. «As I was saying, Killian went to the police to warn them of the terrorist attack, to give us the time to pack up and leave. We made the mistake of splitting up. My husband, Ossian, wanted to say goodbye to his family. My cell's chief, Andrew, killed him first, then came after me. He shot me in the back. Inches from the heart.»

She stopped, in a room filled with silence. Now, everyone was simply looking at her, Garaham too. She drank half a glass in a sip and started again.

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