They dressed together in their shared suite, tucked away in the Sanctum. They weren't the only ones living there full time—Izzy also had her bedroom inside, along with Reagan and Akiko. Other mages might be there on a given day, depending on whatever was happening in Awakened politics.
The local Free Council had fewer qualms about formal vestments and robes than the Atlantean orders, but some rituals were sacred enough that even the Libertines imitated a little of the pomp and circumstance. That meant a dark green cloak for Lyra, stitched with silver thread in various symbols up and down the hem.
Each one represented another magical accomplishment, the rungs of Awakened mastery and understanding she climbed to reach her position in the Free Council.
Her girlfriend wore one too, though hers was made from gray cloth, and had a simpler cut. No fancy hood, and the Atlantean stitched onto the hem expressed no mastery over the arcana.
Bonnie stopped in front of the mirror, twirling once around in the outfit. “This is so silly. My old friends might think you were less weird if you didn't act like this.”
Lyra approached from the open door to the Hallow, holding an oversized cup of coffee in both hands. She took a long sip from it, before extending it to Bonnie.
As she drank, the tiredness of her evening burned away like smoke. No normal cup of coffee could ever be so potent, no mortal chemistry. In a few sips, she went from tired to totally refreshed, rejuvenated by the beating heart of the Primal Wild. “Here.”
Bonnie took the cup in both hands, though her eyes were still fixed on the mirror. “What does it say, anyway? A lot of words to tell your people I'm useless.“
She shrugged. “Some of those words don't work in English. Loosely translated, it says... ‘I cannot see the path, but I see your light. Guide me with patience, for your flame may soon burn in my breast.’”
Bonnie squirmed, and spat back a mouthful of coffee into her glass. “All that? You people really love reminding others how important you are.”
Lyra looked away. It was one of the few silly parts of Pentacle culture that Capper actually liked. He would call it a noble sentiment, if he wasn't off doing something more important right then.
“We copied it from the Silver Ladder, I think. They like putting poems in all their stuff. But we're not like that, you'll see. The Free Council is... practical.”
Bonnie handed back the empty cup a few seconds later. Whatever she might say, Lyra saw the spell working on her. Her eyes weren't bloodshot, her movements no longer sluggish and halting. “Practical, like these wizard robes. Gotta have the extra long hem, where would you put the poem? At least yours probably say something cool.”
“Not as much.” She tapped the writing near her forehead, then lowered her hand again. Explaining them would probably count as defiling the Mysteries, technically. “Maybe you'll be able to read them soon. Then you can tell me how silly we look.”
Her girlfriend raised an eyebrow. “Don't count on it. I'm still a hunter. I can't spend days in endless quiet study when there are monsters to kill.”
“And most of them aren't even in the library with you,” said a familiar voice, appearing around the corner. Reagan had her own robes already, blue with black accents along the edges. She had far more Atlantean written there, far more achievements. A third degree master, something few mages twice her age had achieved. Lyra couldn't read that text for long without feeling very, very small.
“Looks like you're both ready. I assume we're taking the quick way. Bonnie still looks...”
“Like myself,” she said, exasperated. Bonnie held up the charm Lyra had made for her, holding the wood and gold necklace just outside the robe. It was made from two pieces, balanced precisely on a simple mechanism. With a twist, she could easily rotate them around, breaking the rune and removing the spell. So it was at that moment, inert. “Lyra said this Free Council place would be safe. No eyes from my old organization watching us, or bugs listening. I don't have to hide.”
“I sure hope there aren't,” Reagan said, slipping past them into the Hallow. “If the hunters can see you in there, we have way bigger problems than keeping your identity hidden.”
Lyra stopped at the doorway, putting herself between Bonnie and the sacred space beyond. Silly or not, she had tried to honor her oath—on some days she even succeeded!
Unfortunately, her girlfriend was too smart. No gesture was subtle enough for her not to notice. She couldn’t casually lean across the doorway without Bonnie knowing she was obstructing her view.
“You remember the words?” she asked, a little louder. As she spoke, a familiar spotted yellow cat approached them, stalking past Bonnie before rubbing up against her leg.
“Yes,” Bonnie said, folding her arms. “I still don't understand what's such a big deal about all this, though. I already know you're magic. I'm surrounded by it all the time. You sometimes crawl out of our bed as an animal right in front of me. I've fought against mages before, I saw that prisoner you keep downstairs throw lightning through the air. Seen the dead get up and fight. What's the point of putting on a costume?”
“Protection,” Capper said. From the way Bonnie looked down, Lyra knew he'd taken the effort to speak in English. Usually that was beneath him—but he knew how much Lyra cared about her girlfriend. He spoke to her when he never bothered with her sisters in the cabal.
“From my girlfriend?” Bonnie demanded. Behind them, Reagan now raised her voice in the usual chanting that came from a spell. No matter how much Lyra tried to convince them that Capper's way of empowering spells was better, old habits endured. “She couldn't hurt me.”
“Not her,” the cat said, settling back on his haunches. “The Pentacle. Some are kind and selfless, like your mate. Others are... less so. Your membership with the Libertines guarantees standing in their society. Without it, sooner or later the Guardians of the Veil would come calling for you and erase the secrets you have learned from your mind.”
“Lyra wouldn't let them,” Bonnie argued, raising her voice a little louder. “We fought monsters together. We look out for each other.”
“Yes,” Lyra said, taking her by the wrist. “This is how I do that. A few minutes in a costume, a few promises about not spreading our secrets, and we don't have to worry about it ever again.”
They passed through the Hallow, a far weaker version of the same bright space that the Free Council kept at the center of their headquarters. Akiko had somehow made this one, though Lyra didn’t understand the mechanism.
Even so, she couldn't help but slow as she passed through the round room, her feet clattering over the polished black floor. They kept it empty for ritual casting and the invocation of Atlantean runes. Even so, Lyra still felt like she was walking on sacred ground.
Reagan waited near the wall, where it now opened into another place. A simple blank room, like the study areas one could reserve in the Canterlot Community College. No one else was inside, nothing but a door on the far end. She passed through first, then stuck her hand back through the opening, as though holding a door open for them.
Lyra tried not to wonder what might happen if the spell ended with Reagan's hand still on their side.
“That never feels normal,” Bonnie whispered, stopping just beside it. “No matter how many times I see it. I hold out my hand and expect to feel a screen there.”
“Distance is illusion,” Reagan replied, from the other end. “I'll tell you more about it after the ritual, if you want.”
Lyra took her by the wrist, guiding Bonnie through the doorway and into the study room beyond. Capper hopped through the portal a second before it closed, trailing behind them. Familiars were welcome here too, if they wanted to attend. “Who else will be there?”
“Everyone but Akiko,” Reagan said, hesitating at the door. “Your girlfriend can relate, I'm sure. Akiko hasn't left the excavation for the last week. Still prodding at the ruins as we speak.”
“Is she a cat while she does it?” Bonnie asked, smiling weakly. “Then maybe I would.”
Reagan shook her head. “Nah. I'm usually the one who...” She looked away, cheeks flushing bright red. “Tabitha and Phoebe should be there! It's the big day!”
Phoebe and Tabitha. With Starlight and Rarity there, Lyra could at least count on some of the loudest members of the cabal to be backing her up.
Outside the door wasn't the community library, no matter how similar the construction. They were underground, with artificial light instead of broad windows and wide skylights. Besides, nowhere in the college would keep Atlantean tapestries on the walls, or diagrams of their latest discoveries. A few were the scribed diagrams to new rotes, recently discovered or invented by the Council's efforts.
Where other orders concealed and protected, they saw magic differently. Lyra couldn't imagine being happy in any other order.
Through a maze of twisting hallways, past wards and magical protections and waiting guards, they finally came to the center of the order's Sanctum.
It resembled a lecture hall, with raised benches and a central stage. Yet no other lecture hall kept a circle of soul stones around its border.
Lyra knew the second she passed the threshold into this Demesne. Just one step, and some of the awful weight of the fallen world was lifted from her shoulders.
The mana coursing through her veins was no longer suppressed, as though by incredible outside pressure. In this place, the Abyss could not twist her spells into paradox. Nowhere else could serve as the center of Libertine learning.
Sunlight seemed to fill the hall, though its windows were little more than flat sheets of glass leading nowhere. Once inside, Lyra heard no hum of air conditioners, or the rumble of passing cars. Here was more peaceful than any library.
A few dozen Libertines waited inside, scattered in the elevated seats. Many had notebooks or laptops with them and were absorbed in whatever work they did. Most dressed like ordinary people, without robes or ritual hoods. The casual Libertine wore pins instead, on pockets or collars or even stuck into their backpacks.
Only those on the stage below had their robes, or those waiting for their chance.
Reagan followed them to the stage, then waited just behind Lyra. Technically her role would be no less important than Lyra's own.
At least they were first on the day's schedule.
Celestia stepped forward—Hierarch of Canterlot, and Strategos of the city's Free Council. Not to mention the dean of the community college. Though there was no podium or mic, her voice still carried as though there were. “Our first case is Sleepwalker Bonnie Carter, who wishes to petition for association with this illuminated body. Her peer reviewers may step forward.”
Lyra and Reagan did so, bowing politely to Celestia as they did. Bonnie lingered near the edge of the stage, fidgeting in place. But she still looked calm. Of course she can stay calm. She was a real secret agent. Or whatever the actual title was. Bonnie hated when Lyra called her that.
“I am Sunset, third degree master of this illuminated body,” she said. “This sleepwalker has noble character and a strong mind. She aided my cabal against the Seers of the Throne in spring. She fought when some mages would've surrendered. She is a worthy associate of this body.”
She stepped back, and Lyra took her place at the front. The eyes of the Free Council were on her then. At least her friends were up front, grinning their encouragement in her direction. Tabitha beamed, Starlight waved, but no Akiko. Reagan was right, she hadn't come.
“My name is Heartstrings. First degree master of this... illuminated body.” She glanced back at Bonnie, waiting nervously on the steps. Her girlfriend kept patting at her side, reaching for something that wasn't there. Her gun.
“This sleepwalker has known about the supernatural for a long time. She's saved more people than anyone else I've ever met. It was her warning that protected many of you when the mortals attacked the Pentacle in spring.” She had not wanted that information shared, it was true. But if Bonnie knew what the Free Council were really like back then, she wouldn't have wanted to attack them either!
“I trust her with my life. I will witness for her character, her courage, and her fortitude. Let her transgressions against the Mysteries fall on my head.”
A mutter passed through the crowd. Did they know what Bonnie used to be? Were they about to grill her for it?
Nothing she could do about it now. Lyra backed away, leaving the stage open for her girlfriend.
“Approach,” Celestia said. “If you will accept our association, say so now. Defend this thesis before the Libertines.”
Bonnie stepped out onto the stage, beside Celestia. Despite the perfect fit in the robe Tabitha tailored for her, she wore it awkwardly, a costume that didn't quite fit.
“You want me to recite what she told me?” Bonnie asked. “Ritual and all that?”
The crowd shifted uncomfortably. Lyra winced, opening and closing her mouth several times. There was no ritual, technically. She'd just been memorizing a version of what the Libertines were most likely to accept. Being a sleepwalker alone would not guarantee her place.
“No,” Celestia said. “This is not the Arrow, or the Veil. Tell us why we should accept you as an associate. Make your case before this body.”
“Alright.” Bonnie stepped forward, looking out on the crowd. She didn't give her perfect, memorized speech. “World outside is shit. People cower away from things that hunt them like animals. They don't know what they're afraid of or why. For a long time, I thought you were just like all the other monsters.
“I know you're not, thanks to Lyra. I don't know if I believe most of what I've heard about you. But that doesn't matter—I've seen what you do. You want to keep them safe, and so do I. You people have better tools than I do, but Lyra says I'm not allowed to learn about them or use them until I make some promises.
“That's what I'm doing. I'll keep your secrets. I'll fight beside you like I fought beside the good people who died last spring. I'll die before I reveal whatever you tell me. I'll listen when you tell me that some weapon is too dangerous to touch. Hopefully I can do more to keep the people of Canterlot safe on your team than my last one.”
Lyra remembered when she first joined the order. That day had been marked by friendly applause, and even a little cheering. Her girlfriend got only a quiet smattering of applause from the front row—Lyra's own friends. But they fell silent after only a few seconds, following the obvious emotion of the room.
In all the new memberships Lyra had seen, the opinion of the Free Council was usually so obvious that no vote was required. But now...
Celestia stepped forward. “Thank you, miss. That was a very... interesting petition. I can't remember any other quite like it. I sense the assembled members of this illustrious body may have a number of... questions, before coming to their decision. Please answer them honestly, with as much forthrightness as you can. You may refuse to answer, but the Council may weigh that decision against you. Above all, do not lie.”
Bonnie nodded. “I get it. No bullshit.” She folded her arms, looking out onto the crowd with the sharp judgment of an angry drill instructor. “Go on then. You've got me.”
It took a moment before someone spoke—an older mage that Lyra didn't know well. “What team are you referring to?”
Bonnie met his eyes without blinking. “Can't tell you much about them, some of those people are still my friends. Government task force that tries to keep people safe. Without the tools or the knowledge to do a very good job.”
A few mages actually gasped. Tabitha pretended to be very interested in some crochet she was doing.
“By that you mean—last spring—those men in black who attacked the orders. You were one of them?”
There were many correct ways to answer that—Bonnie chose none of them. She nodded. “We had bad intel—and they still do. I could've gone back to them when it was over, but Lyra helped me see how wrong we were. Since I can't tell them what I've learned, and I know they'd probably execute me if I tried... this feels like the best place for me now. Somewhere I can carry on their mission, with the benefit of knowing what the hell I'm doing.”
“Will you be...” Someone else stood up. Her name was Alice, though here she went by Moondancer, one of Akiko's old rivals, and Lyra herself used to call a friend. The girl seemed to deeply dislike anyone attached to Akiko, regardless of the degree of that connection. Needless to say, they hadn't reconnected since Lyra joined the council. “Will you be carrying on their mission, even in our association? Doesn't sound like you even want to be part of the Council.”
Please don't say that, Lyra thought. Not a spell, she didn't know the first thing about sending her thoughts. Even if she tried, every mage in the room would overhear. It would never work.
Capper mewed, loud enough that Bonnie looked back in their direction. Like him or not, their long association meant she at least knew how to listen to him. If only because it usually meant Lyra wasn't far away.
Bonnie met her eyes, frozen for a few seconds. Desperation flowed between them, desperation bordering on terror. Don't say it.
Bonnie faced the crowd again, standing straight. “I know I'm not part of that group anymore. Like I said, they'd kill me if they found me. Guess that means we have something else in common.”
“But you have split loyalties,” Moondancer insisted. “If they attacked this Sanctum right now...”
“I'd keep the people I love safe,” Bonnie said, taking one step towards Lyra.
“But you won't tell us where to find them? How we could eliminate the threat they pose.”
“I will not.” Bonnie folded both arms. “But I will keep my ear to the ground. Warn you all if there's another big push coming. Like Lyra did last time. I don't have to betray the people I used to work with to join your side. That's what Lyre taught me most of all—there are too many real monsters out there to get distracted fighting potential allies.”
Alice sat back down. A murmur of agreement rippled through the room.
“Are there any further questions?” Hierarch Celestia asked. More silence. “Then we vote. All who would refuse membership to this Associate, stand.”
Moondancer stood, along with a few others. Most glanced around the room and remained in their seats.
“Proposal is carried. Congratulations to our newest associate, Bonnie Carter. Repeat after me, and I will administer your oath...”
It only took a moment. Soon they were in their seats together, behind the other members of the cabal. Lyra held Bonnie's hand under their robes, squeezing as hard as she could. Nearly gave me a heart attack. If she'd been refused, there was no telling what the order might do. Or the Veil, if they found out about her.
They listened through the rest of the meeting, but Lyra barely heard a word. None of this would threaten her, or the people she loved most. Routine proposals for various research projects, the allocation of budget towards the construction of a new building, fundraising efforts, outreach, a vacation trip for winners of an intermural horseracing competition...
Lyra kept her hand on Bonnie's the whole time, holding her as protectively as she dared. It still felt strange that she was the one to protect someone so much tougher and stronger than she was. But once Bonnie had magic of her own, maybe it would be different.
She didn't say so, of course. She didn't have the energy to do anything but sit up and wait for the meeting to end.
Then it did, and the crowd wandered back out the way they'd come. Lyra closed her eyes, settling back in her seat. Finally, she could breathe.
Footsteps sounded, and someone's shadow blocked the light overhead. She opened one eye, and found Alice standing there, both arms folded. She looked between the two of them, eyes lingering on where Lyra still held Bonnie's hand.
“We all know you wouldn't have won that vote without your victory this spring,” she said, without so much as a polite hello. “The order just feels indebted, that's all. It's making irrational decisions driven by emotion. Just like you did to entangle yourself with this... associate member of our order.”
Bonnie sat suddenly upright, her expression turning homicidal in an instant. Lyra tugged on her arm, holding her back. Fortunately, she didn't fight.
“You're right, obviously. It was irrational.”
Alice raised an eyebrow. “Really? You'll admit it, just like that?”
“Emotions are what make us human. The instincts we brought up with us from when we were lower animals—they can teach important lessons. If being 'rational' was all I cared about, the Free Council would've been as unprepared as everyone else. We might not even be alive to have this conversation.”
Alice scowled. She spun in her robes and stalked up the steps.
Soon the rest of Lyra's cabal were surrounding them, congratulating Bonnie.
All except for the girl who had invited Lyra into magical life in the first place. Twilight was too important to come to this meeting, or the little trip to the cafe they took afterwards. At least now her girlfriend could join Lyra the next time they went to visit the excavation.