Skip lapsed in and out of consciousness, losing all concept of time; strange dreams blurred with moments of waking clarity, and through it all she felt the cold of space invading her bones. A white-hot storm of rage rose to meet it, hot viciously battling with cold. "Hot and cold," Skip burbled as she drifted out of a muzzy doze. "Ott and cold."

She threw her head back as much as she could and cackled uncontrollably, knowing that she had lost her mind. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered any more. The room rang with her demented howls.

The bout of hysteria faded as soon as it had come on, and Skip mumbled as she felt herself slipping back into an uneasy sleep. What had Ontiveros injected into her?

A soft whirr made her ears and whiskers twitch, getting her attention. She levered her head up as far as the restraint would let it, and lay back down as she saw a grey-suited security guard carrying someone into the room. She closed her eyes, getting a quick glimpse of the someone; she was a Stoat: shortish, lithe, and entirely unconscious. The guard, a male Rabbit, hauled her to another table next to Skip's and unceremoniously dumped her onto it before affixing the restraints to her limbs.

Making as little noise as possible so as not to attract attention, Skip opened an eye and studied the latest patient. She recognized the Stoat; it was Lizzy Redridge from Team Three, Sally Hoot's lot. She was wearing a green shirt and beige cargo pants, along with a sneaker much like those Skip was wearing; her other foot was bare.

The door whirred open again, admitting another guard; this one was a female Badger. "She still out of it?"

The Rabbit nodded. "Yeah. Just seen the schedule. Wouldn't wanna be these two, I can tell you that." He chortled.

The Badger snickered with him. "Well, hey, we're gonna be stuck with 'em; why not have some fun?"

The rabbit sniffed. "Better let 'em sleep. They've a long day ahead." The two left, gossiping and laughing.

Skip whimpered. She closed her eyes, opening herself to any deity who might be listening. "I swear, I am done with trying to 'be more'," she hissed. "Get me off this thing, and I'll go home. That's all I want. I just want to go home with Tilda. My Tilda. I'll work at the bakery; I don't care anymore. I'm done with Etobicoke. Just get me outta here."

***

The whirr of the door woke Skip from another drowsy reverie; she lifted her head to see the Rabbit and the Badger glancing at her. "Oh good, you're awake," the Badger chirped.

Skip groaned. "How is that good?"

She didn't receive an answer; meanwhile, the Rabbit was moving over to Lizzy Redridge's table. The Stoat was snoring drunkenly, still clearly under the effects of whatever chemical cocktail the guards were dishing out. "We'll have to carry her," he grumbled.

"I'll get a trolley," the Badger muttered, heading out the door – and then she was walking back into the room, backwards...

...with the black barrel of a Witch Blaster pressed into her muzzle. Following the Blaster was a spry-looking Dog in a hoody, her face set in a snarl. Skip blinked; it was Sally Hoot.

Hoot glanced toward poor Lizzy Redridge before resuming growling at the Badger. "Get her off that thing!" she bellowed. "NOW!"

The Badger blathered, trembling and terrified.

The Witch Blaster in Hoot's grip rumbled. "Didn't you hear me?" the Dog barked.

"How the hell did you get in here?" the Rabbit cried, whirling to face the chaos.

Hoot shoved the Badger away and trained her gun on him. "Get her off that table."

The Rabbit snorted. "Love, just put that down..."

If there was more to his sentence, it was lost in a chattering volley of energy that liquefied the metal wall not two inches from his position. Hoot huffed. "Damn," she clucked. "I missed."

The Rabbit gibbered and pressed several controls on the side of the table, retracting the restraints. Lizzy burbled, moving her legs and arms.

Hoot grinned, her teeth shining in the strip lights. "Good! Now get in the corner. You," she said, turning to the Badger, "stay where you are. If either of you sound the alarm... well, it won't really matter." She went to see to Lizzy – and noticed Skip. "Fleer?"

Skip grunted, managing a weak smile. "Hey."

"Didn't expect to see you here," Hoot laughed. "Need some help?"

"If you can manage it," Skip replied.

Hoot motioned to the Rabbit. "Get her up."

The Rabbit complied, and Skip let out a relieved sigh as the restraints fell away. She scrambled off the table and got to her feet, still feeling a little woozy.

Hoot was checking on Lizzy. "Redridge, are you okay?"

Lizzy's eyes were fluttering open. "Team Leader?"

"Yeah, it's me," Hoot was saying. "Can you stand? I'm getting you out of here."

Lizzy mumbled incoherently before struggling into an upright sitting position and wiping drool from her muzzle. "Where am I? What's happening?" She wiggled her bare toes. "Where's my flamin' shoe?"

"We'll worry about that later," Hoot said. Skip noticed that she had another Witch Blaster strapped to an equipment harness on her back; Hoot unclipped it and offered it to Lizzy. "Here. You might need this."

Lizzy tried to take the weapon, but her fingers slipped clumsily over the grip. "I can't," she blithered. "I can't think."

Skip strode over and took the gun. "I'll cover you." She ran an eye over it, noting the inscription "KISS THIS" on the barrel. She felt good with the Blaster in her paws, as if some of her anger were being siphoned off into it.

Hoot nodded. "Yeah. Let's just move it." She shouldered the unsteady Stoat and picked her up. Lizzy squeaked as she walked. "Ooh. Deck's cold."

Skip walked behind them, keeping her Blaster trained on the two guards until she was out of the room.

***

"So why was she in there?" Skip asked Hoot as the three stumbled through the access corridor outside.

"All I know is, she got up onto one of the tables in the mess hall and did a bit of rabble-rousing," Hoot said, grunting as she wrestled with the floppy Stoat. "At least that's what Marcia told me. One of the guards tranked her and hauled her off. Wouldn't tell us where they were taking her." She essayed a slight smile. "So we went and got our Blasters, and you'd be surprised how talkative a guard will get when you shove one in their face."

"We?" Skip asked. "The team's here?"

Hoot laughed. "Yeah. Felicity and the others are keeping order in the main atrium. The guards crumbled, Fleer. They're just set dressing. None of them are prepared to actually do anything if we do anything."

Skip huffed. "Yeah, well, you know that metal that was holding us down? It's the stuff they're ripping outta the rocks. Ontiveros told me that the guards are going to be supplied with it. It stops magic."

Hoot stopped and stared at her. "You're kidding me."

Skip shook her head.

"Then we'd better get out of here." Hoot walked faster, prompting a moan of protest from Lizzy. "Don't want any reinforcements showing up with that stuff."

The corridor led directly to a wide room with a security desk and a row of couches. Sitting on the couches were several security guards; across the room stood four female witches, their Blasters pointed directly at them. The nearest, a skinny Wolf with gold chains running from each of her ears to her nose, beamed as she saw Skip and the others. "Lizzy!"

"I got her, Cora," Hoot puffed. "She's still doped up, but she'll be fine." She levered Lizzy onto the nearest couch, next to a guard; the Cat hissed and shied away from her.

"So, what now?" Skip asked nervously, surveying the room. "How are we doing this? What's going to happen now?"

The witch at the furthest end of the room, a Skunk, piped up; Skip recognized her as Felicity Round. "I'm sure us and Ontiveros can square this up before the Ratenplan gets here." She chuckled darkly.

Skip gulped. "It's not coming, Round. Not for a while. The company assigned it somewhere else. We're to keep mining. Ontiveros told me."

Jaws dropped; even some of the guards looked aghast. Hoot spluttered. "What?" she spat.

"Are you serious?" the Cat guard yowled. "We gotta be stuck out here with you bleedin' hags?"

"Shut it, Mostyn," another guard ordered, this one a Squirrel with "SELBO" stamped on her vest. She looked at Skip. "Ontiveros told you that? Really told you that?"

Skip nodded. "Yes."

The guard next to Selbo, a chunky female Dog who was almost spilling out of her uniform, chimed in; Skip noticed the name "TOBERMORY" on her vest. "So they've been lying to us? To all of us?"

Skip nodded again. She could feel the energy in the room shifting and reshaping itself; allegiances were being reconsidered and plans were forming. She whimpered; it was building to a crescendo, and she could only predict one outcome.

And it wasn't going to be pretty.