//------------------------------//
// Chapter 10 
// Story: Shattered Pentacle 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

Time got a little confusing when you weren't something with a clear conception of time. Lyra was somewhere else—somewhere with lots of interesting new smells and places to explore. She wandered around for a while. A few times people came her way. They were familiar enough that she didn't want to run, but rarely novel enough that she stayed near them for very long.
Long enough for them to talk about some things, or others. But none of them were as interesting as all the exciting corners of her new place. Until she had poked her head into every opening, corner, and hiding place, and someone appeared in front of her. 
One of the other new girls, the one she knew the least. But “Starlight” was luckier than anyone she'd ever met—it wasn't too surprising that she would find her.
“Hey, Heartstrings.” She dropped into a sitting position opposite the exit, blocking any potential escape. Lyra wasn't sure exactly where she was—a square shelf filled with various magical oddities, all of which smelled strange enough to attract her attention. 
She'd escaped from the other girls more than once already—but she probably wouldn't do quite so well against someone so lucky.
So she settled onto her haunches, glaring out at her friend.
“I've seen this kind of thing before. I have a friend—he can change too. This sometimes happens to him. It's almost guaranteed your first time.”
Most of those words had meaning. Whether or not she cared to listen was something else...
“Makes me wonder if that familiar of yours did it on purpose. Convincing you to make this so long... you could've gotten into all kinds of trouble if you got outside.”
She pawed her way towards Starlight, tense enough that she could flee if she had to. Starlight wouldn't be able to reach far enough fast enough.
“Rarity was going to bring her familiar too. But she's not as well-behaved as yours. Probably for the best if you learn the secret language of beasts another time. Maybe when there's less of a time-crunch.” She set something down in the space just outside the box—an overlapping layer of cloth, covered in the strange patterns of mage writing.
“He says it gets easier—the more times you're exposed, I mean. It's not my area, so I have to believe him. You could also try something larger next time—not a lot of space in a cat brain.”
Not a lot of space—was she calling Lyra dumb? Granted, she didn't precisely know how the magic worked, but she had some idea it was more complex than that. If she was entirely stuck in the brain of whatever form she used, then no mage could ever change into something small or stupid and still hope to get anything done.
She couldn't argue the point with Starlight, though—she didn't have the magic to understand her. She would have to change back for that. Which... wouldn't be that hard. She didn't have to cast a new spell, just end the one she was already using. 
“I wouldn't interrupt you—honestly, it seems fascinating. But Twilight is getting so nervous she's started vibrating in her chair. Could you join us, please?”
When she asked the question so politely, how could Lyra refuse? Besides—Capper wasn't playing with her anymore. He'd said something when he left—but now he was gone. It would be more fun to explore with friends. Too bad she didn't know the magic well enough to use it on someone else yet. That might be interesting...
Changing back would be interesting too. She pawed forward, closer to the exit. However confused and bewildered, she still had a pretty good idea how bad it would be to get bigger in a space that didn't have any room for her.
“Please don't run away,” Starlight added. “I can even introduce you to someone who knows all about changing into things. Or—deer. Specifically deer. But I won't do it if you make us chase you.” She backed away from the opening, resting one hand on her hip. “No meeting my friends if you can't behave.”
Lyra could behave! All she had to do was remember how the spell worked...
It took considerable effort to find, and more concentration to stop. But if she reached deep enough, past where any eyes could see, there were the threads of a spell wrapped around her soul. She wasn't really a cat, she'd just tricked her pattern into resembling one for a little while. Apparently it was time to go back to the way it used to be.
The spell remained strong, though she couldn't say how long it had kept going. Hours? Maybe less—it was hard to tell at her size. But it felt strong—strong enough to go for hours more. Unless she broke the loop.
Lyra's world spasmed and convulsed, then shrank. Rather, she expanded, so fast that she knocked Starlight backward in the rush of acceleration. It wasn't just her size that came back either—suddenly she felt bare skin pressed to the wood floor. And by extension, everything she wasn't wearing. 
“Welcome back, shapeshifter.” Starlight sat up, covering her mouth with one hand. “Brought you something to wear. Unless you'd rather try catnip.”
She did not in fact try catnip. Instead she dressed as quickly as she could, tossing the light robe on over her bare shoulders. Whoever designed it had obviously not intended it to be worn on bare skin—but at least she had something to wear.
She ran one hand through her hair, brushing it back into something approximating order. “That was way more intense than I thought it would be.”
Starlight waited nearby, mostly on her phone. At least until that moment, when she tucked it away abruptly. “Did you think being an animal would be easy? I get that you have more natural talent than we do, but come on. If this stuff was easy, more humans would be waking up.”
She waved into the room nearby. “We're all impressed with your magic, Heartstrings. But we'll have to congratulate you later: we're on the clock.”
Lyra tightened the strap, shifting her bare feet on the chill floor. She could probably get a few minutes to change back into her proper outfit—but considering the chaos she'd just caused, maybe she deserved to be uncomfortable.
She rejoined her new friends in the magical workroom, the same place that she'd accidentally saved Akiko's life. There were no signs of that old attack visible anymore, not even melted patches on the wall.
Despite wielding the strange powers of nature, her cabal worked on folding tables covered with butcher paper, leaving them free to scribble over with whatever interesting notes or theories they had.
Lyra's face turned bright red as she saw the full extent of the workspace. Somehow she didn't imagine that a third of the space had been dedicated to polaroid photos of a little cat playing in various parts of the Sanctum, or the other girls posing with it.
“I thought we weren't supposed to capture physical evidence of vulgar magic,” she said, tapping the largest of them with her fingers. Even Akiko had posed for that one—that technically meant the whole cabal. Accepting that one of its members wasn't quite herself at the time. “Something about... risks if they're discovered. The Guardians of the Veil or... something.”
Tabitha nodded sadly. “Tragically, these images preserve evidence of the Sanctum that could be used against us in an attack. They shall need to be destroyed. Except that one.” She nodded towards the one Lyra was already touching. “Just friends sharing their appreciation for your accomplishment.”
“But now that we're done having fun...” Akiko said, before she could continue. “I did call everyone for a reason. We won't have another opportunity like this for another year. Reagan, put away the cat pictures. I don't want to see any of them online.”
Some of them were pretty cute. Lyra wouldn't mind, except that she still remembered posing for some of them. Or—posing might not be quite right. Part of her understood that her friends were giving her attention, and she enjoyed that part.
The other girls each took their seats. Except for Reagan, who spent the next few seconds gathering up cat pictures. She didn't toss them into the nearby fireplace, but into a pocket when she thought no one was looking. 
“Now... I'm sure you all remember this. The artifact I've been studying for the last few years.” Akiko settled it onto the table at its direct center, into a gap in the diagram apparently made for it. 
“The artifact we almost lost to the Seers of the Throne,” Starlight said. “But that Heartstrings was there to stop them from running off with. This is the same one?”
“Same one,” Akiko said. “I've called this meeting because I know what it does. We have a chance—a single limited opportunity—to take advantage. Otherwise, we'll have to hold it for another year. I think we all know our odds against whatever attack comes for us next.”
Tabitha nodded her agreement. “It's rather unwise of us to continue using the Sanctum as long as we have. The Seers do not typically abandon their targets once selected.”
Starlight squinted down at the diagram, and the strange object at its center. “Wait... are you saying we're only going to need it once? Don't most artifacts have permanent effects?”
“Correct.” Akiko bent down, removing a tight bundle of paper from under the desk and spreading it out. There was an opening at the center, exactly the right size for their little artifact. All around it were great gears, wires, and pistons—an incredible machine, as elaborate as anything an 18th century inventor might've imagined in their wildest opium-fueled madness. “But this one is a key. Once we open the door, we won't need to hold it.”
“I thought it was a battery.” Even Reagan had finally set her phone down, attention focused on the diagram Akiko had provided. “Last time we talked, you said it had a reservoir of energy that ran deeper than anything modern mages could build. A well that could hold enough mana to drown someone.”
Lyra shifted nervously in her seat. She wasn't just a little uncomfortable in the robe—she hadn't seen her familiar since returning to her human shape. Clothing she could do without, but where was Capper?
“Yes, it does have that. The diagram here… you can see. Incredible energy. But I was wrong to think it held mana. This takes electricity. More precisely, I believe this device is meant to store lightning.” She lifted the clockwork device into the air, turning it sideways so its little glass reservoirs were visible. “Once filled, this artifact would serve as more than a key—it would also power the ruin, infusing it with the energy to operate.”
“What ruin?” Lyra asked. “Sorry, I'm sure this is supposed to be obvious. I just—don't remember talking about any ruins before.”
“I don't... precisely... know...” Akiko admitted, settling the artifact back down between them. “Reagan, did you find anything?”
She shook her head once. “Only that this thing has sympathy to somewhere close—maybe a hundred miles or less? My guess is it will be much easier to follow once it's charged. Later on it will want to be used. It's not ready yet, so it's resisting me.”
“To answer the question I believe you're asking—” Tabitha continued, resting one sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “Atlantean ruins. Many were built as colonies when the ancient city still stood—more after the Fall, when survivors fled all over the world carrying what was left of their secret knowledge and relics of power. If we could find our way in, it's almost impossible to express the value of what we might uncover.”
“Oh.” Lyra nodded, keeping her head down. Atlantis was the name of the ancient culture of mages, from the world before humanity was all cursed. Depending on who was telling Lyra about it, Atlantis was either a very real ancient empire, reaching the uttermost heights of technology and magic—or it was a mythical ideal, and never literally real.
Many members of her new organization, the “Free Council” saw Atlantis this way—an ideal to be admired, but as real as the square root of negative one. The city had never literally existed—but its presence still guided much of Awakened life.
Not her new Cabal, apparently. 
“What I'm not understanding is why this was so urgent.” Starlight stood up, pacing in a slow circle around the table. “Obviously owning that key makes us a target. But if it goes to an Atlantean ruin, whatever's inside will keep for as long as it takes. Either that, or it rotted away a long time ago. We can take a few months to figure out how it works if we have to.”
“I already know how it works.”
Akiko removed something else from under the table—a codex of overlapping paper, tied with leather straps along the spine. She flicked through it about halfway, until she stopped on one page among many. There, a faint sketch of the artifact occupied the top of the page, along with a meandering scrawl in Atlantean. “We need lightning—real lightning, nothing summoned by magic. All we can do is guide the power into the artifact. The storm has to be natural, or it won't work.”
“Like the big one we're getting tomorrow night?” Starlight said. “Biggest thunderstorm in a decade. Last big storm of the season too, unless other powers intervene.”
“Correct.” Akiko settled heavily into her seat, taking the key up against her chest. “We have an opportunity to charge the artifact. If we can't take advantage of it now, we could be waiting years before we have another chance. Can everyone be available tomorrow evening?”
One by one the girls nodded. Everyone had their own concerns—plans they might need to reschedule, or preparations they wanted to make. But ultimately they all made time for it. So when it came to Lyra's turn, she had no choice but to accept.
“Bonnie and I were going to—I can probably get a refund. Unless you don't think you need me.”
Her friends shared a look, before Reagan broke into nervous laughter. “We're talking about lightning, and we're planning to make it hit. Trying this without a healer seems... dumb.”
Just one look at her friends told Lyra how likely they were to wait this out, even if she couldn't come. And if she wasn't around to help when something terrible happened...
“If money is the question, I could see such concerns... overcome,” Tabitha said. “I know you've been reluctant to accept my help thus far, but perhaps you could reconsider for such an important cause? I'll make up the difference in whatever you've spent.”
If it was just the money. But given the intensity of Lyra's new life, she had missed more than her fair share of time with her girlfriend. Not all of it was her fault—Bonnie had to cancel things too, as her current investigation with VALKYRIE demanded more and more of her time.
But between one night at the opera and a risk that her friends could get themselves killed—the decision was obvious. “Something to make it up to Bonnie... fine. I won't turn you down this time. And I'll be there. What time?”
The rest was just working out specifics. Lyra had little place in the plan for the spell itself, beyond needing to be close by and topped up in case someone got struck. 
Tabitha nudged her shoulder. “If you're feeling up to it, you might try that transformation again. A cat could make for a great lookout.”
“Refuse,” demanded a little voice. She turned to the side, eyeing the little cat from around the bench. The others turned to look too, though they couldn't understand him. But in a group of other mages, they knew he did more than make cute, harmless animal sounds. “You are not ready, as we saw. A single sniff of catnip and your discipline and focus are shattered.”
He hopped onto her seat, nestling up against her lap. Capper spoke with the same confidence and poise as ever, even when reclining in an animalistic way. He cared as little as any real cat for what she thought. “Besides, transformation constricts the pattern. It is not wise to take a tiny form when surrounded by danger. A blow that would kill any other cat will fell you just as easily in their skin. And if that doesn't discourage you—it will be pouring rain. You'll hate it.”
Nothing forced Lyra to listen to Capper's advice. But the cat sounded genuinely disappointed in her. Almost nothing made him sound like that. So she would pay attention.
“He sure had a lot to say,” Akiko muttered. “More than most familiars do. Fascinating.”
“I don't think I'm ready to field test that new magic quite yet,” Lyra said, before they could turn the subject towards Capper. None of the others quite understood why she accepted a familiar so quickly. The more they investigated, the more trouble they gave her. “But I can hide pretty good. Better with magic, if I need to be hidden.”
“Practically invisible,” Reagan said. “Remember—the Seers work for the ones who won. They know things about Atlantis that we don't. They might realize what that key opens. Maybe that's why Tempest didn't try to take the key a second time. She's going to let us do the hard work, then take it already charged.”
They spent the next hour or so planning things out. Akiko's organization was meticulous, much more than Lyra's patience. But given the choice, she was usually better off with an overprepared friend than someone who leapt in without thinking.
Her own part was simple—where to hide, what to watch for, and how she would help if anyone got hurt. The pressure wasn't on her, she was just a contingency.