91: Displacement

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"Am I dead?"

She looked up to the man dangling from a crack in the world, one of his arms jammed halfway into a holoscreen on the other side of the rift. A wire hooked up to the holo pulsed neon blue, looking entirely more like a vein transporting ley energy than a wire - perhaps it was, at this moment. She Herself simply shook her head to answer his question, taking her time. There was delicate work to be done.

"Thoriane's other Patron," She finally spoke up.

"Pardon?" There was almost a laugh to his voice.

Perplexed, she simply nodded. Of course - Thoriane typically spoke to her patrons in matters of Jobs and Contracts, rather than matters of Guardianship. There was little time to explain. The assassin's business was her own.

"I simply have to displace you - you and the other Patrons, to... fix the flow of ley energy," She continued, as he looked around. If he recognized any of the other Patrons floating in the leyline, he gave no sign of it - many had noticed Malaicacynne when she explained. "You won't be here long enough to die, but you may wind up somewhere you do not recognize."

He swallowed reflexively. "I have a lot to do."

She smiled with the tilt of her head. "We all do."

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