//------------------------------//
// Chapter 13 
// Story: Shattered Pentacle 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

Capper always kept his promises. That included Lyra’s first uninterrupted chance to practice with the magic of true transformation. With his careful guidance, prodding her away from caving to the instincts of her form, Lyra kept from getting into too much trouble.
Her trip across Ponyville was not quick exactly. Her companion was still a cat, and cats were not terribly interested in running when there were more dignified ways to get around. But from a foot off the ground, there was no chance of being accidentally detected.
She felt the tension in the air—sometimes with the supremely alert animal senses, but also with that diffuse, unnamable instinct, raising the hackles on the back of her neck. Ponyville was in tension, a spring pulled back as far as it would go.
She saw it in a dozen ways. Barely any traffic on the streets, with numberless owls and crows gathering in the skies above. People glanced furtively to either side when they went out, and parents pulled their children closer as they hurried them into their homes. 
Even humans could tell something was wrong, though there were few overt signs. The most direct she saw was the barricaded freeway onramps, and evening buses that just didn’t arrive. The forces commanding Bonnie had already taken steps to slow travel. But is the attack coming in Ponyville, or Canterlot?
Strange people moved through the streets, scattered in small groups. They dressed in nondescript black clothing, often concealing bullet-proof vests, and drove unmarked SUVs. 
A few of them glanced in her direction when she emerged from an alley, only to turn away from her.
“I can’t believe I can just... get away with this,” she mewed, when they finally emerged from the last of the back alleys and reached the road leading towards Saddle Lake, where Tabitha’s mansion was located. “Naked vulgar magic, humans looking right at me. But no paradox.”
“Nothing improbable about a cat wandering around at night,” he answered, amused. “Rewire your car to drive it at this size, then get pulled over. See how long your magic lasts then.”
It wasn’t really an invitation, of course—it was a warning, one she needed no instruction to honor. Adopting a new pet already tried Bonnie’s patience enough. If she started making a car a cat could drive, her mage-hunting girlfriend was going to get suspicious.
“So like... the same way Bonnie doesn’t notice me healing her, or making her not tired. So long as I make it plausible—”
“The sleeping soul recoils from Supernal light,” Capper finished. “But not forever. Just as the wolves that once retreated from ancient fires, in time they saw the warmth for what it was, and the outstretched hand replaced the spear. I see her soul stirring.”
You can do that? Lyra didn’t ask out loud, or will the question to her familiar. She could keep thoughts to herself when she wished, so long as he wasn’t watching closely. If he heard her question, he didn’t answer it. Besides, they were soon joined by another.
A strange white cat leapt down from a nearby tree, where she had likely been watching for some time. She landed dexterously despite the distance—of course she did. Only human bias suggested that jump should be anything difficult.
“Greetings to you,” she said, inclining her head. “My master who is alchemist sends you welcome, and warning.”
Opal always talked like that to her ears, even when she used the language of cats. Strangely formal, halting and unnatural. Not a real cat at all, any more than Capper was. But he was much better at it.
Capper pushed her gently back, bowing to the other familiar in a formal way. She’d never seen it before—but she’d also never been alone with two familiars before. Did they have customs the same as mages did?
“We thank you for your greeting. What is your warning?”
“Strangers besiege the house. My master did not know what brought them, but the Willworker is in a state of great discomfort. She advises you to retreat and find another sanctuary.”
Opalescence was so much bigger up close. Bigger than Lyra by no small margin, with a glittering collar around her neck. Despite her perfect fur, she still had all her claws. Knowing Tabitha, they were probably sharp enough to cut through steel.
Capper nodded to her. “The message is received.” He turned on the larger cat, brushing against Lyra in an animal way. It would almost translate as “I already have a female,” though it must have some deeper meaning around familiars. They weren’t really animals, no matter how they looked.
“Your friend wants your help desperately,” he thought, directly to her mind. “But she won’t ask, because you’re new at this and it might get you killed.”
Lyra stared, ears folding back in astonishment at the quality of the translation. For an inhuman spirit, that was incredible insight into how humans thought, let alone her own friends. Tabitha would never ask for help, she was always the generous one.
“Can I help?” she asked, as silently as he had. Just as she could keep her thoughts from him, she could also focus her attention on them, increasing the chances he would listen. “Without getting killed.”
He nudged her shoulder with one paw, then nodded in a distinctly human way. “On four paws, I think so. But if we go, don’t think I will be waiting in the wings to pull you from the fire. I can cast no spells you can’t. My powers are yours.”
She met his eyes. Standing beside Opalescence, it was even clearer to her how different her familiar was from Tabitha’s. Something more than a cat looked back at her in both cases. But from Capper she felt something almost human.
“No secret spirit spells you’ve been holding out from me?”
He stuck out his feline tongue. “They’re called Numina. Spirits don’t cast spells.”
You didn’t actually answer. She shoved past him as roughly as she dared with a bigger, stronger male, facing Opalescence directly. Despite the word, a familiar wasn’t actually some physical extension of the soul. Opal wasn’t a young cat like Capper, but an old, elegant beast, as large as any feline could grow. 
“I want to help Rarity,” she said. She didn’t know any of the formality expected with someone else’s familiar—only the basic stuff. Tabitha could see through Opal’s eyes and cast spells through her, if she wanted. “Can you lead us to her without getting caught.”
The cat lifted her tail, turning her head to one side with obvious pride. “I could cross from one end of this plane to the other without allowing mortal eyes to fall upon my countenance. You bumble around like a kitten crunching every leaf that falls. You would knock over the trees if they weren’t rooted to the ground.”
Lyra blinked, momentarily dumbfounded by the reply. Not so much because it was unexpected—even when she couldn’t understand Opalescence, the cat’s mews always sounded pompous and proud. 
If being around Capper was bad...
“I’ll manage,” Lyra said, voice flat. “Choose the easiest path, please. Fit for a... bumbling kitten like me.”
“Fine. My master would be glad for any help. It is not for me to judge the ones she calls allies. Come.”
She came. Along the road, into the underbrush, then through a narrow opening in the wall. Despite what the familiar said, she kept pace with little difficulty. Lyra’s transformation went deeper than just changing her skin—she could think like a cat when she had to, balancing on narrow ledges, squeezing through small gaps, or crawling in long, dark spaces.
“I don’t know why Tabitha puts up with her,” she said silently, as their journey continued. Rapid or not, they were still only cats, so wouldn’t be going anywhere with great speed. “Mages can always understand their familiars, right? If you talked like that I never would’ve made a pact.”
Capper pawed along beside her, always close enough to catch her if her paw slipped, or keep her from stepping into a patch of hidden mud.
“They’re all like that. Your friend chose a spirit of gemstones—fitting for an alchemist. And if you think this one is bad, talk to a fetch sometime. Without a body in the material, it’s little better than speaking the First Tongue across the Shadow. You can’t really have a relationship with one—mage and spirit alike just see each other as useful tools. Exchange is made, service rendered.”
They emerged from under a log onto perfectly manicured grass stretching up a hill. In the distance, red and blue lights flashed, with a short line of cars parked in a spacious drive. Human voices conversed, but they were still too distant to identify. She could only make out their suspicion and concern—an energetic argument, with tempers flaring high.
“But not you,” she thought back. She slowed on the grass, enough that their guide turned to glare in her direction, hissing quietly. “You never ask for essence. Why are you helping me?”
“Vengeance.” They crept along to the house, slipping off the grass and into the damp planter-box beside it. A perfectly-manicured garden sheltered them from the night, though it did mean getting dirt on Lyra’s otherwise clean paws.
“Willworker, be alert. There are intruders inside the house. Give them reason, and they might kill or capture you. How long will that spell last?”
She glanced nervously at her companion. But he kept silent, leaving her to answer. “Dunno. A few hours more if I’m lucky.”
“So don’t get caught,” Opalescence said. “Or transform while unconscious in a tiny metal box. Now—my master does not wield the power of telepathy. I must take you to... a place on the second floor. She left a message for you there. She desires urgently for you to find and read it. I believe time is counting down towards something critical.”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
They slunk along the building, until they came to an open window. She jumped onto the ledge, then squeezed underneath after her.
Tabitha’s mansion was not in good shape. The lights were all out, and the contents of many drawers and cabinets had been dislodged roughly onto the wooden floor. Some of her priceless art was now broken and shattered, or trampled under heavy boots.
Some of those boots moved elsewhere in the home. She heard them clearly, stomping around several floors above. Which meant they would need to go closer.
The raid was surprisingly silent. She heard few shouts, only the occasional piece of furniture falling over, or door banging open. Even so, the human invaders made enough noise that Lyra felt no need to sense for their life-energy to know where they were. Despite the darkness and lack of voices, they might as well be shouting their intentions with every new step.
Soon they were on the top floor, crawling under a heavy multi-section couch where a little slip of paper rested. Opal took it in her mouth, then led them to the light of a still plugged-in cell phone charger. 
That tiny glow was enough to make out Tabitha’s note, scrawled so fast that she could barely read it.
Heartstrings, they’re not here for me. I don’t know why, but they’re after my sister. I’m trying to distract them, but if they find her, please protect her. If you can get her off the grounds, Starlight can get her somewhere safe
Her sister? Lyra tilted her head to the side, reading and re-reading the note just to be sure. VALKYRIE was moving on mages, weren’t they? So why would they be hunting an ordinary teenage girl?
“I cannot read it,” Opal said, matter-of-factly. “What does the master ask of you?”
“Help... Isabelle,” Lyra said. “That’s who they’re really after. They don’t know anything about Tabitha.”
Then something exploded. Gunfire rang out through the house, piercing the relative silence. Glass shattered, and a whole wall came tumbling down.