I'm not here. Nobody can see me.

The girl huddled in the corner, tucking herself close together, with her hands over her ears and her face pressed to her knees. She was trying to blot out the sounds, but more than that, she didn't want anyone to remember she was there.

You can't yell at me, because I'm not here.

Despite her best efforts, she could still hear their voices raging around her. They should have been such comforting voices- her mother's, her father's, and her siblings' voices. They should have meant home and safety to her, but she would have given anything right now not to hear any of them.

Don't look at me. Nobody look at me. Please, don't see me here.

It was just that there were too many of them. There were too many brothers and sisters living in this little house on the edge of town, too many of them competing for resources and living space. To her parents, the girl had all but ceased to be a child of theirs at all, but only another mouth to feed and a body that needed clothing. To her brothers and sisters, she was not only a rival for the affections of their parents and for whatever belongings they had, she was the youngest and weakest, and therefore the easiest one to slight. Anything she had that they wanted was theirs for the taking, if they should chance to notice she had something. More than that, if they wished to take out their frustrations on someone, she was the one least likely to fight back. Her only defense was to stay out of the way and hope no one would notice her.

I wish I could just go away... go away where nobody would see me. I would be so safe...

She could hide, if she wanted to. She was very good at hiding, by now- she had been doing it as long as she could remember. But it wasn't enough to hide at times like this, when everyone in the house was short-tempered and screaming at each other. Their sharp words fell like hail, striking even those who had nothing to do with the problem and wanted nothing more than to cause no trouble for anyone. The girl pressed herself as close to the wall as she could, trying not to make any sound as she cried. She didn't dare move even enough to wipe her eyes, and so she pressed her face into her shabby dress and withdrew into her thoughts.

Please, I wish so much... I wish I could just be... invisible.

If the girl changed much over the next five years, no one really paid any attention to it, other than to note with dismay that she continued to outgrow her clothing with dismaying regularity. Her features tended to blur in the memory of anyone who looked at her, and be forgotten almost as soon as she was gone. As long as she did what she was supposed to and didn't cause any commotion, there was simply no reason to remember that she had ever been there at all.

Such was the case at school. She had no friends to speak of, perhaps through her own doing. She had never made any effort to fit in with any particular crowd, nor did she ever approach any of the others who didn't fit in. Rather than playing with the other children, she always hung back, watching from the sidelines. Some of the other children had taken to bullying and teasing her, when she was younger, but that had lost its savor when they had learned that no matter what they said and did to her, she would simply curl up and hide her face, silently waiting for them to get tired of her and go away. There was no fun in picking on someone who never gave any response. Eventually, even the bullies got tired of her and went to find more interesting prey.

There she was, ten years old, sitting in her last class of the day, watching the teacher chalk math problems on the board. He finished what he was doing and turned to his class.

"Who can complete this equation for me?" he asked.

All around, hands went up. Among them was that of the silent girl. The teacher scanned the selection carefully before pointing at a boy in the third row.

"Brassen, give it a try," he said.

The boy stood up and walked proudly to the front. He picked up the chalk and wrote down the answer. The teacher nodded and smiled.

"Very good," he said.

The boy marched back to his seat, his face slightly flushed with his triumph. The teacher turned back to the board and wrote down another, somewhat more complex problem.

"Would anyone like to give this one a try?" he asked.

The girl raised her hand, along with four or five others. The teacher gave the volunteers a measuring look.

"You," he said, pointing.

"Me?" asked the girl.

"Me?" asked a girl two seats in front of her.

"Yes, Walanda," said the teacher. "Let's see what you can do."

The quiet girl slumped in her seat as her classmate went forward to answer the question. When the work had been completed to his satisfaction, the teacher sent his student back to her desk, and then turned to fill the remaining space on the board with one final question.

"There," he said. "Any brave volunteers?"

Only one hand went up. It belonged to the quiet girl.

"Anyone?" the teacher asked.

Her hand remained in the air. It was trembling slightly.

"Well, if no one can do it, copy it down in your books and work on it tonight for homework. If you need a hint, go over the examples in section 29.6 in your texts. We'll go over it tomorrow afternoon. Class dismissed!"

There was a wild scramble as the students collected their belongings and rushed out the door. Only one person was perfectly motionless, her hand still pointing to the ceiling. The teacher picked up a cloth and began wiping the board clean. When the job was finished, he went back to his desk, put his things into a briefcase, and began walking out of the room.

At the last possible moment, just as he was preparing to lock the door, the girl jumped from her seat, slung her bag over her shoulder, and raced for the exit. She was in such a hurry that she actually crashed into the teacher. She rebounded and finally managed to brace herself against the wall.

"Hey, you- watch where you're going," said the teacher. He gave her a puzzled glance. "Whose class are you in, anyway? What are you doing here?"

The girl couldn't answer. She shook her head slightly.

"Well, I'll let you off the hook this time," he said. "If I catch you running in the halls like this again, though, I'll be forced to tell your teacher."

The girl nodded, still too stunned to speak. The teacher stared at her a moment longer, and then his eyes seemed to slide out of focus, as if he were watching her retreat into the distance. Then he turned and walked away without another word. The girl sighed.

I should have known it wouldn't last, she thought sadly.

It had been nice while it lasted, going to school. It was the only place left where people would still look at her, or take any notice of her at all- or it had been, until today. The strangers had gone first. One day, she could walk into a shop like any other girl to buy a piece of candy or a toy, and the next day, they hadn't seen her even when she stood right in front of them. She had been walking to school for the past two years, because the bus driver no longer saw her standing at the corner. School had been a welcome change to her, because at least there, she had her name on the student lists. She was still expected to turn in homework and do her test papers, and would attract attention if she did not. The cafeteria workers would give her food without question, even if she couldn't buy a sweet from a street vendor. They even sent home progress reports, once in a while: "Progressing satisfactorily... Never causes trouble." It had been nice, being noticed, but she knew it couldn't last, not after her own parents...

She clamped down hard on that thought. She blinked furiously, trying to clear her vision. Even if no one would see her, she was not going to embarrass herself by crying.

It's time to go.

Moving slowly, she made her way out of the school and began making her way home. It was a long walk, but she was used to it, having made it twice almost every day for the past two years. She knew all the shortcuts, too, and was perfectly safe in taking them. Some careful experimentation had proven to her that she could pass through even the dodgiest areas of the city without being in any danger, even when others would be lucky to leave with only a few possessions stolen. It did make life easier, even if the privilege came at a high price.

Even with her shortcuts thrown in, she still couldn't get home as fast as her brothers and sisters, who, after all, were free to take the bus. She opened the front door.

"I'm home!" she called.

"Ma!" called a voice from upstairs. "Joslyn used up all my shampoo!"

"I did not! You're lying! Ma, Rallie's lying! Make her leave me alone!"

"Shut up! You're just running to Ma 'cause you can't stand up for yourself!"

"Both of you be quiet! Some of us are trying to work!"

"Keep out of this, Aeric! It's none of your business!"

"It's my business when you're keeping me from getting my homework."

The girl sighed and shook her head. This kind of bickering went on most of the time- today was actually a fairly tame example of what she had to put up with. She picked her way upstairs, walked past her two bickering sisters with her head down out of habit, and made her way to her room. It couldn't really be termed her room, since she shared it with Rallie and Joslyn, but it was the room where her meager possessions were stored, and that was where she wanted to go. Now was a good time, since her two older sisters were busy shouting at each other in the hallway. She didn't think they'd notice her, but there was always the chance that they'd object to her taking anything they thought of as theirs, the trouble being that they thought of just about everything as theirs.

She walked to her bed and upturned her school bag, dumping out her schoolbooks and papers in an untidy heap. She wouldn't be needing them anymore. Instead, she took what little of her clothing remained that still fit her and was fit to wear. Her clothes were all hand-me-downs, and some of them were barely more than rags, but she still had a few old things of Joslyn's that were still in reasonably good condition. She folded these up and stowed them in the bag, along with a few other personal items. Just as she was finishing, a call came from downstairs.

"Dinner! Get down here right now and eat, or you're not getting any!"

There was a pounding of footsteps as everyone raced downstairs... and one soft patter as the girl followed after them. She peeked through the door to the dining room and counted the plates: two for her parents, two for her two sisters, one for her brother. That was all. She turned away.

It's time I got out of here, she told herself. She was surprised she was not more unhappy about the prospect, but really, the idea had been building in her mind for a long time. She knew she wasn't wanted here. Now, as far as they were concerned, she wasn't here. That was the case, as far as she could tell, for everyone around her. There were only two choices open to her: she could rebel against her situation and do something grand and terrible that would force the world to recognize her, or she could quietly accept her fate. She took one backward glance and walked out her own front door with no intention of ever going back in.

Evening was approaching, and the city sky was turning pink and red with the onset of night. The girl walked slowly up the streets with no real plan or purpose. She had a vague notion that out there, somewhere, there had to be someone who would see her and accept her, but her plans for finding that person were vague. All she could do now was walk, and watch everyone else in the city walk around her without really noticing she was there. At a traffic signal, she stopped and watched a mother strolling with her little girl. The child rushed up to a shop window, pointing excitedly.

"Mommy, Mommy, look at this!" she said, staring at a toy in display. "Can I have this, Mommy, can I?"

"That looks expensive, honey. Maybe if you're good, you can have it for your birthday. I'll tell you what- how about I buy us both some ice cream instead, hm?"

"Yay! Ice cream!"

The traffic signal changed, and the two of them made their way across the street, with the little girl pulling excitedly at her mother's hand. Neither of them noticed the schoolgirl watching them sadly from the corner.

What I wouldn't give... she thought.

"What are you doing here, child?"

The girl jumped. She had just heard a voice coming from somewhere above her head, a melodious voice that put her more in mind of a musical instrument than anything else, like the echo of some deep-toned horn being played far away. She was certain she heard it, and just as certain no one around her did. She looked up.

Hovering some six feet off the ground was a... she couldn't begin to think of what she might call it. A wheel, perhaps, or a star, except that it seemed to be alive. At its center was an eye, perfectly round, and its coloring ranged from deepest green at the center to a pale gold at the outside, with a deep black pupil and no whites at all. The rest of it seemed to consist of a number of pointed spokes, each faceted like a crystal and colored a rich dark bronze. It gleamed in the red light of sunset. The whole thing was a compact three feet long from tip to tip. Below it, people came and went, utterly heedless of the thing that was lazily bobbing and spinning above their heads.

"Excuse me," said the girl. "Were you... talking to me?"

"Yes, child," the star-thing replied. "You are surprised, then, that I can see you."

"Well, yes," she said. "I mean, it's been a long time since someone has, and... What in the world are you, anyway?"

"I am called the Viewer," it answered. "I see all that there is to see, both the Visible and Invisible. I specialize, in fact, in seeing the Unseen. I have been watching you for some time."

"You have?"

"Yes. About three of your years, I believe."

"But..." She shook her head, struggling for words. "Why were you watching me? How come I never saw you? And why didn't you say something sooner? All this time, I thought..."

"I did not want to pull you away while you still had a place to call home. Now that you have rejected your old life, however, I feel justified in offering you an alternative. What is your name, child?"

"Mirana," she answered. "Mirana Sidestep."

"Apt," the being murmured. "How very apt. Very well, Mirana Sidestep, I will impart you with some information. You are not the only one of your kind."

"What? What do you mean?"

"You have a gift, Mirana - a gift that, among other things, makes you unseen by all around you unless you purposely draw attention to yourself. As you know by now, it takes a significant effort to draw that attention, and even then, it won't last long. Your powers are growing, even as you are. If you don't learn to control them, they will eventually take you over, and perhaps destroy you, both in mind and body."

"What has that got to do with...?"

"Listen to me. I make it my mission to seek out people like you- the Invisible ones- and bring them to a safe place where they can learn and study with each other. I can help you to control your powers. More than that, I can teach you to do great things, greater than you can imagine."

Mirana was stunned- stunned but intrigued. "What kind of things?"

"The mission of the Invisibles. Mirana, tell me, have you heard of superheroes before?"

"Well, of course! Who hasn't?" she answered.

"They always win, don't they?"

"Yes. I mean, if they didn't, they wouldn't be..."

"Wouldn't be superheroes," the Viewer finished. "Exactly. Allow me to tell you a secret: all superheroes, no matter how powerful or successful, are mortal beings. Just like any other beings, they can make mistakes. Now, if a normal being were to make a mistake, they can correct it, but if one of these heroes makes a mistake, an entire world or entire galaxy might suffer."

"But... that never happens," said MIrana. "The good guys always win."

"Yes," said the Viewer. "Because they have help. That is the mission of the Invisibles, and the task I train them for. A hero must not fail in his mission. They must never make mistakes. Even if they can mend their mistakes, the people they are meant to protect will lose faith in them. How could anyone place their faith in a handful of people to fight cosmic menaces if they didn't believe with all their hearts that such people could win. No one would trust them if they knew that their heroes were fallible like everyone else. They don't want to know that their heroes need protecting... but they do. Every team of heroes, all across the universe, has one of my Invisibles watching over them, protecting them from their own mistakes. That is the destiny I am offering you: to protect the protectors and preserve faith in the power of good."

Mirana tried to work through this. "But, if I do that, nobody will ever know, will they? I'll still be invisible..."

"Yes." The Viewer's voice became gentle. "Listen to me, child. There is nothing wrong with being invisible. Think of the things that really matter in life: love, hope, kindness. These things are invisible to the eye. Often they are not noticed at all. They are the background music of the universe- never seen, seldom appreciated, yet they enhance everything they are a part of. Your good work may never be attributed to you, but it will be noticed and appreciated for itself."

"Hm," said Mirana hesitantly.

"You have nowhere else to go. I want you to follow me. I can give you a home with your own kind, Mirana. Without my help, you will be lost forever. You must see that this is the best choice."

Mirana didn't say anything for a moment. Natural hesitation was telling her that she shouldn't just drop everything to run off after a creature she'd only met five minutes ago... but what difference did it make? She had nothing to drop. She had nothing left to lose that she hadn't already lost. As for this thing's true nature, the Viewer was the only creature to pay her any attention in ages. It wanted her. There was no one else who did.

"I'll go," she said.

The Viewer whirled a bit faster; she got the feeling it was smiling. "Very good. Brace yourself, then."

There was a bright green-gold light that enveloped them both, and then it faded. No one else saw the girl or the spinning star. They were no longer there to be seen.

I am going to be so late!

Mirana raced down a hall at top speed, skidded around a corner, nearly collided with a wall, and kept going. Most days, she made her way through the corridors at a dignified pace to keep from running into anyone, but today, she knew there would be no one out here but her. She shouldn't have been there herself, but she had gotten caught up in her work, and it was difficult to keep track of time in the House of Shadows.

For the past five years, Mirana had lived and worked here in the home of the Viewer and his multitudes of followers. Even the other Invisibles didn't know how many others they were sharing a home with, for they were as invisible to each other as they were to the rest of the world. The only time they could ever see each other was in their classrooms, where special enchanted lights were lit so that they would be able to interact with each other properly. The rest of the time, they lived isolated, each with their own rooms, passing each other in the hallways like ghosts, unseen but still felt and heard. She seldom had classes with the same set of students for more than a few months, at best, so she hardly knew anyone's name, much less their face. It was a lonely existence, but far better than what she'd hoped for when she had left home on that rainy day five years ago.

For one thing, the work was interesting. True to his word, the Viewer had overseen her instruction in the magical arts. She had worked hard to master each new task, and she felt that she was fairly good at most things.

Probably not good enough, though, she thought wistfully. Especially if I'm late to the assembly!

She sprinted past a large picture window and glanced through it, more out of years-old habits than any expectation that it would show her anything useful. Outside, the sky was the pearly gray of early morning, but that didn't mean anything. Through the window just up the hall, she caught a glimpse of a raging snowstorm, and the one in her room had showed a sunny afternoon at the beach. It was the nature of the House of Shadows to be indefinite, and that extended to the scenes it chose to show through its windows. Mirana had never actually been outside the House, and she had no idea what its environs were actually like, or whether it was ever really day or night outside. Last week, all the windows had shown the same vista of the sun and moon beaming down on a harsh desert landscape, never changing, for three days in a row before the House or whatever force controlled it had gotten bored with it.

Somewhere up ahead, she heard a dim murmuring as of many voices, and she managed a sigh of relief despite how hard she was breathing. The only place she would hear such a sound was in the assembly room- the House might enjoy putting odd sights in the windows or throwing peculiar shadows on the wall, but it never made noises of its own accord. Mirana paused at the intersection of five hallways and tried to decide which way to go. Another favorite trick of her domicile was to rearrange its rooms and passages on a regular basis. While it would always eventually take her where she wanted to go, sometimes it took longer to get there than others. It was nothing unusual for her to walk past her own room three times- each time from a different direction- before she could finally get to the library, or to start out on the third floor and wind up on the ninth without having ever climbed any stairs. Today she picked the corridor that pointed more-or-less straight ahead and hoped the House would take pity on her. She couldn't afford to waste any more time, not on this most important day of her year.

Luck was with her. She shot down an S-curved hall, her school shoes beating out a hollow rhythm on the hard floor, and suddenly found herself staring at the huge double doors that led to the auditorium. Thin sheets of light slid through the cracks beneath and between them, throwing even more oddly-shaped shadows on the walls than usual. The murmur she had heard from a distance sounded like a muffled roar now, as if the ocean were being held at bay by those doors.

Everyone else must already be in there, she thought despairingly. Still, there was nothing to be gained by not turning up. After all, the Viewer would notice if she didn't show up. That was how he was. He noticed everything.

She gave the doors a push, and they swung softly open. Instantly, her eyes were assaulted by vast amounts of golden light, and then, as they adjusted, by the sight of a wave of blue. That was the color of the school's uniforms, and everyone who had yet to be promoted wore one. Mirana was used to them- after all, she wore one herself, and saw them on the other students when she attended classes- but it was very seldom that she saw so many at once. She could feel the eyes of her fellows as she picked out a place in the back of the room, and wished that she could be as invisible here as she was everywhere else.

"Now we are all here," said the Viewer's deep voice. All eyes turned to the front as he materialized before them. Mirana felt an internal squirm of emotion as a number of feelings vied for superiority. She felt guilty about being the last to arrive, but that was drowned out under the relief that no one was looking at her now, and a surge of happiness at being in the Viewer's presence. Like all Invisibles, she worshipped him: the only being who saw her merits, or anything else about her.

"Before we begin," he said, his voice echoing around the suddenly quiet auditorium, "we shall recite our oaths. Who are you?"

"We are the Invisibles!"

"To whom do you swear?"

"To the Viewer!"

"What is your law?"

"We shall not be seen!"

"What is your mission?"

"To defend from the shadows!"

"What is your oath?"

"We swear to serve the Viewer, to uphold the honor of the Invisibles, for the good of all!"

Mirana recited the creed in perfect unison with those around her. She had heard it several times a day since she had arrived in this strange place. The views from the windows and the shadows on the walls might change, as did the rooms and the hallways and the people in them, but the oath was always the same. It was part of her very being now, and her heart beat to its rhythm.

"Very good," said the Viewer, looking pleased. "Now that we are done with the formalities, let us proceed to the more important matters. I have watched you all very carefully over the last year, as I have always done, and I have seen many of you grow in power and learning. I am very proud of each and every one of you. Truly you were well chosen to join the ranks of the Invisibles. However, only the best will proceed to become independent operatives and return to the outside world. At this time, the names of those so honored will be announced."

The quiet in the room was absolute. This was what they had all been working for- their chance to leave behind the classrooms and the blue uniforms and go out to fulfill their destinies. A wave of wistfulness washed over Mirana. Much as she longed for the honor, she knew that she would not be one of the ones chosen. Last year, only six had made the goal; the year before, it had been ten. She wasn't exactly sure what the guidelines were that were used for choosing the lucky ones, but whatever they were, they were obviously stringent.

"I would like to ask that everyone be silent as I call out the names of the graduates. If you hear your name announced, proceed up the main aisle and exit through the door on the far left. Wait in that room, and I will speak with you further there. If everyone is ready, we will begin now. The first graduate is... Shara Ilustria!"

There was a smattering of applause as Shara glided serenely up the aisle. Mirana was pleased; she vaguely liked Shara. They had been in a few classes together, and she had always struck Mirana as a pleasant, gentle girl.

"Atrian Winterlight."

A boy got up this time, walking with his head held high. He had achieved what slight fame was possible in the House of Shadows; everyone knew his grades were the best of everyone's. It was only natural that he would be chosen.

Several more names were announced, and three more boys and a girl made their way down the aisle- for once and perhaps the only time in their lives, the center of everyone's attention. Mirana clapped for them until her hands went numb, but inside, her heart ached with the longing to be one of them, to be chosen for something above all others.

Next year, she swore to herself. Next year, I'll go, too. I'll be one of them.

But it was not destined that she would graduate next year, or the year after that, or in any of the forthcoming years. If she had known that, she would not have jumped quite so high after what happened next.

"Mirana Sidestep!"

Her heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, eyes were fastened on her- just a few, at first, from those who had managed to remember her name and attach a face to it, but then a few more, as people followed each other's gazes to land on her. She felt her face growing hot as realization dawned on her.

How? What? Why? Her brain whirled. She found herself glancing around stupidly, unable to remember what to do next. Someone behind her gave her a shove into the aisle, and she slowly began to walk.

One step, two steps, five steps, ten... Was it really such a long walk from here to the far end? It seemed to be taking forever, and Mirana was intensely conscious that everyone was staring at her. It felt wrong. For the last five years, she had been trained and trained to avoid the gaze of others, to walk unseen, to draw no attention to herself. Now she wished once again that she could be safely invisible and make this journey without anyone looking at her. She reached the door at last, let her hand rest on the handle a moment, and took a glance over her shoulder. A sea of faces looked back at her.

I'll never see them again, she realized. She was leaving their world. There would be no more classes, no more assemblies, only her own silent work. They'll never see me again. No one will ever see me again.

For a moment, she wanted to panic, to turn around and run right back that aisle and out into the hallway, to escape to her familiar dorm room and go to sleep until it was time to get back up and go to her classes and her own comforting routines. She shook herself.

The Viewer will see you. He always sees you, she reminded herself.

Gathering her courage firmly around her, she stepped into the next room and closed the door firmly on her old life.

It was very dark. It probably looked darker than it really was, after being in the brightly lit auditorium, but it was still undeniable that there was a shortage of light in this room. Mirana couldn't see the others, but she assumed they were there, out of sight. She picked her way through the gloom and found what felt like a chair, even if she couldn't see it. It had legs and arms like a chair, and didn't feel like it had anyone sitting in it, so she took it for her own. It was coated in something that felt like velvet, and made the backs of her legs itch. She fidgeted.

"Is this all of us?" asked a voice after a while. Mirana thought it might be Shara, but she wasn't sure.

"I hope so. I want to get this over with. I'm ready to get out of this place."

"We're not leaving forever, you know. We're just moving to the graduate dorms on the other side of the House."

"I wasn't talking about the House. I was talking about this room."

"Ha! Oh. Sorry," said a sheepish voice.

"How many of us are there, all together?"

"Six, I think. I was sure I saw one more."

"I'm here," said Mirana to the people she couldn't see.

"Oh! I know your voice," said Shara. "You're Mirana. We studied temporal diversions together."

"That's right, we did," said Mirana.

"Mirana Sidestep? She's only been here five years. That's awfully young to be graduating," said an unfamiliar male voice.

"Well, the Viewer must see something in her," said the third girl defensively. A few people snickered at the unintended joke.

There was a shimmer in the air- not much of one, since there was so little light to begin with, but enough to let them know that the Viewer had entered their presence.

"Welcome, and congratulations to you all," he said. "You have officially graduated from your classes. Now your real challenge will begin. Each of you will be given an assignment in some part of the universe, and you will have to function on your own as best you can. I have complete faith that you will do your best with these missions. I will send you to your new lodgings now, and I will meet with you a bit later to brief you on your assignments. Do you have any questions?"

There was a chorus of no's.

"Very well. You will be transported now."

Mirana felt the giddy feeling of falling into something too loose and soft to catch her properly, and she sunk and spun until she somehow landed on her feet on a carpeted floor. She looked around. It was a nice room, a bit larger than her old one, and had a vanity table with a real mirror in it, a luxury she'd never had before. Most of the room was dominated by a four-poster bed with curtains. There was also a small wardrobe with a few changes of clothing inside it, and Mirana looked them over appreciatively. Before, she had only ever had school uniforms and a nightgown, but now she had a few sets of clothing that were plainly meant simply for relaxing as well as working. She quickly stripped off her blue uniform and replaced it with the outfit worn by graduates. The old uniform was stuffed under her bed, knowing that she'd probably never see it again. In a place like this, hiding something was a perfectly good way of guaranteeing it would probably disappear completely before long.

The new uniform, she was rather disappointed to note, was a great deal like the old one, except that it was pure white. It consisted of a pair of soft-soled boots, suitable for walking soundlessly over any terrain, a pleated skirt, and a three-button shirt with a ribbon tied around the collar. She adjusted her new garb in front of the mirror and wondered idly why it was that a group dedicated to remaining unseen needed a uniform. Surely if nobody was supposed to see them, it didn't matter what they wore?

"It's a matter of group identity," said a voice, and Mirana whirled around to see that the Viewer had appeared behind her.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to ... complain?" She felt mildly puzzled; she was fairly certain she hadn't voiced her thoughts aloud, but she had never thought that the Viewer could read minds along with his other gifts.

He chuckled indulgently. "No, you weren't complaining, but enough people have voiced the thought that I guessed what you were thinking. As I said, it is a matter of group identity. When you go back out into the universe, you may not return to the House of Shadows for long periods of time at a stretch. At times like those, it is important to have a reminder of who you are and what your mission is, lest you be tempted to stray. That is why you are required to wear a uniform whenever you are on duty. When you are not working, however, you may wear whatever you please. It is your privilege as an independent Invisible to do so."

"Thank you," said Mirana.

"Now, if you are ready, we will discuss your first assignment."

"Yes, please. I would like that," she said automatically.

"Very well. Observe, if you would."

The Viewer's gaze became a beam of light, which fell into a perfect circle on the floor. The circle of light became transparent, and Mirana peered into the opening that had formed at her feet, showing her a view of the dark reaches of the galaxy. Nestled amid the stars was a pearly- pink planet looped with a few thin rings.

"This world is called Lumaria," said the Viewer. "It is very much like the world you left. You should feel at home there."

"It's beautiful," said Mirana, kneeling to look at it more closely.

"It is," the Viewer agreed. "It is also in danger. A dark sorceress known as Nox is threatening it sink it into shadows by the power of her magic. Even now, a team of elite fighters is being raised to combat her. These will be your charges."

The image shifted, and Mirana watched as three faces were shown to her in succession. One was a boy a bit older than her, with wide eyes and an eager expression. The second was a woman, pale skinned, dark haired, and sullen. The last showed a man in his twenties, perhaps, with clear blue eyes, a strong jaw, and gleaming golden hair.

He's so handsome... Mirana thought, sighing slightly. Already she was warming up to this job.

"All of them are skilled in their own particular fields," the Viewer continued, "but they have yet to learn to work together. They are likely to be factitious and uncertain how to best utilize each other's strengths. They will need to be monitored closely until they gain some experience. Do you think you can manage?"

"Yes," said Mirana eagerly. She caught herself and blushed slightly. "I mean, I'll do my best."

"Excellent. I will give you some tools to help you in your quest," said the Viewer.

There was another flash, which separated itself into two brightly glowing blots of light that hovered in the air in front of Mirana. Not knowing what else to do, she put out her hands, and felt two solid objects fall into them. One was instantly recognizable as a magician's staff- she used one all the time in class. Those were generally simple wooden affairs, perhaps with one or two magical crystals set into them to boost their failing powers. This one was much finer. It was about two feet long, coated in gold plate and engraved with silver runes. The tip was crowned with a rosy, semi-transparent sphere of crystal. To Mirana's touch, it seemed to vibrate slightly of its own accord, giving off a faint tone that seemed to resonate to something deep within her.

"It was tailor-made for you," said the Viewer. "You will find it should give your abilities a significant boost. Use it wisely."

Mirana nodded and turned her attention to her other acquisition. It seemed to be a brooch of golden metal, made in a miniature likeness of the Viewer himself. There was a black cabochon set in the place where his eye would have been.

"That will be your link back to me," the Viewer explained. "Use it to contact me in case of an emergency, but only in an emergency. You will be going into some dangerous situations, so you must wear this brooch whenever you are on a mission. I will be very disappointed if anything happens to it, so take good care of it. Do you understand?"

Mirnana nodded, and hurried to pin the brooch to the front of her shirt, holding her ribbon in place. She thought she saw the black stone shimmer slightly as it was snapped in place.

"Now you are ready to begin," said the Viewer. "The doorway at the far end of you room will take you to the planet of Lumaria, and deposit you in a relatively safe place close to your target area. Go there and get acquainted with your new charges. I have told you all you need to know to get started; the rest, you must learn on your own."

"I understand. I won't let you down," said Mirana.

"I know you won't," the Viewer replied. "Best of luck."

The Viewer vanished. Mirana took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. It didn't work particularly well, but it did help her to build up her nerve enough to examine the door the Viewer had indicated. It was a narrow door, barely wide enough for a human to pass through- she would have thought it was a broom closet if the Viewer hadn't said anything about it. It was located directly across from the foot of her bed, so that it would always be in her sight as she was falling asleep, and the first thing she saw when she awoke in the morning. She touched the handle gingerly, and it swung open, revealing a haze of pearly light. She tried to think of something encouraging to say to herself, but her brain seemed to have gone blank. In the end, it was probably sheer nervousness that compelled her to start walking in spite of herself, and before she knew it, she had passed through the door.

Two men stood in a control room, leaning over a large, flat screen. Several other machines whirred and blipped around them, but they paid them no heed. All their attention was riveted on the viewing terminal and the images it was showing them.

The screen showed a room, the camera angle giving the illusion that they were actually looking down on a place directly below them, though it was actually a few rooms down the hall. There were three people moving around inside it, a woman and two men, each dressed in a loose- fitting jumpsuit, identical save for the colors. They appeared to be getting to know each other.

The youngest of the lot, a boy dressed in green, was sitting in front of a computer, eagerly going through its files and checking its capabilities.

"Wow, this is great!" he enthused. "Man, I never had anything like this back home. The stuff you could do with a setup like this... it's unbelievable! I'd give anything to have one like this..."

"I suppose the one you have in front of you is imaginary?" said the woman. Her voice was deep, and would have been pleasant to listen to if its tone hadn't been so acerbic.

The boy looked up, his cheeks reddening slightly. "That's not exactly what I mean. I meant, like, you know... one to keep. I'm just kind of borrowing this one, right?" His momentary uncertainty was covered up by a friendly grin. "Anyway, I'm Pax Cloudstunner. Nice to meet you! We're going to be partners, right? What's your name, huh?"

The woman seemed to consider the merits of answering that question for a moment. "Lux," she said at last. "Lux Lunargale."

"That's a pretty name," he said. "Kind of fits you, somehow."

The woman nodded guardedly, as if she distrusted his motives. She probably had a good reason for that. There was something about her that said she spent a lot of time putting up with people with ulterior motives. She was stunningly attractive, and someone in the costuming department had noticed this and altered her uniform accordingly. While her jumpsuit was made of the same soft material as those worn by the men, and had all the same basic detailing, hers fit considerably more closely, and had a much lower neckline. Perhaps in an effort to shield herself, she wore her hair long, and her bangs covered her eyes. It was impossible to say what color they were beneath the shadows.

"Anyway, this is going to be really cool!" said Pax. "I've always dreamed of doing something like this. Just think- me, Pax Cloudstunner, a warrior for the forces of truth and justice, defending the world against everlasting night, just like in the comic books!"

Lux's mouth twisted as if she'd bitten a lemon. "Comic... books?"

"Yeah!" Pax agreed. "Like Heroic Quest Quarterly and Amazing Men of Might and Magic. I have the whole series." He beamed with pride.

"Um," said Lux. "Somebody tell me why they let this kid into this building. Why isn't he in elementary school where he belongs?"

Pax pouted. "I'm in high school."

The third member of their little group sauntered over to stand between them, running a hand through his hair. He flashed a perfect white smile at Lux.

"Hey, baby," he said. "Is this little boy bothering you? Why don't we step aside for a little while and talk about something more interesting. Hmm?" Before she could answer, he continued, "By the way, I don't think I've been formally introduced. I am Vox Starflare. Of course you've heard of me."

Lux looked at Vox. She looked back at Pax. She looked at Vox again.

"Tell me more about your computer, Pax," she said.

The boy looked up at her blankly. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

"Oh, never mind," she said. "I'll tell you what. If you two want someone to talk to, talk to each other. I'll go stand in the corner and pretend I'm not here."

She sauntered off. Vox grinned.

"I like a girl who plays hard to get," he said.

"Oh, wow!" said Pax. "This thing's got a 635 crystallic co-processor! I didn't even know those were out yet."

The entire scene was observed by the two men in the other room. They didn't have much to go by in the way of sounds, since they had deemed it improper to listen in on other people's private conversations, but they doubted anything of interest was being said, yet, anyway.

"Are these really the best you could find, Commander?" asked one.

"They are all highly skilled in their own fields, Master Zariyan," the Commander replied.

Zariyan didn't look convinced. He prodded a finger at the screen, pointing at the boy in green. "I don't know. This one looks awfully young for such a position."

"What, Pax? Don't let him fool you. The boy is a child prodigy- an absolute genius when it comes to weaponry. He's been building guns and explosives since he was five years old. He even developed the photoharmonic system they use in a lot of the latest lasers. He has a knack for any kind of machines, really. Not that he doesn't have a few small eccentricities, but..."

"I see," said Master Zariyan, who didn't know what a photoharmonic system was and didn't care to ask. "And what about this one- the girl? She doesn't look like much of a fighter to me. I'm not sure it's, er, proper to have a woman on the team. She could be a distraction."

"Ah, you mean Lux. She's a rare find," said the Commander. "I went through quite a bit of work, getting her. She's a white sorceress."

"Is she, now? That's rare," Zariyan said. "Is she quite stable?"

"All indications are that she is," the Commander replied. "She's already twenty-three years old, and she's never shown any signs of being anything worse than a bit surly."

Master Zariyan looked doubtful. "I've heard they all go insane, in the end. The ones who practice sorcery, I mean. It's a well-known fact."

"We tested her thoroughly before she joined up," the Commander assured him. "She's as sane as you or I. We will be watching her closely, of course, but in the meantime I suspect she'll be more than a little useful."

"I still don't like it," said Zariyan. "We're going up against a black sorceress; I'm not sure more sorcery is what we need. What about this last one? This Vox Starflare. Seems to me I've heard that name somewhere before."

"He's something of a local hero," said the Commander. "He saved his village from an invasion of Shadowtypes. Fought off six of them single-handed- no guns, no lasers, not even a sword. He's trained in the martial arts since he could walk. You won't find a stronger fighter anywhere."

"Commendable," said Master Zariyan. "I think he should be the one we put most of our faith in. The other two seem to be a bit dodgy, if you ask me."

"Well, we did what we could," the Commander replied. "Heroes are in short supply, these days. But I do believe you're right- Vox is the one closest to what we were looking for." He began walking slowly towards the door. "Well, I suppose it's time for us to address our troops, eh?"

"Yes, let's go ahead and get it over with." Master Zariyan straightened up and followed his comrade.

Meanwhile, the three putative heroes were still wandering around the main room, waiting for their superiors to arrive. Pax was still lost in the labyrinthine files of the computer he'd discovered. Lux lurked in a corner with her eyes downcast and her arms folded across her chest, either in an effort to show her displeasure with the whole situation, or an effort to cover up some of what her uniform's designer had decided to leave bare. Vox had gotten tired of trying to make conversation with her, and when she didn't seem inclined to let him continue gazing at her cleavage, he had wandered off, and was currently using the reflective screen of one of the terminals to help him comb his hair. When the door to the room opened, all three of them snapped to attention.

"Hey!" said Pax. "I know you! You're Commander Maxton. I saw you while I was upgrading the plasma cannons at Base Moonshadow. How've you been?"

The Commander ignored him. "Gentlemen, lady, may I present to you Master Zariyan? He is our sponsor in this endeavor; it is he who commissioned you all to be here."

"I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am," Lux said, scowling. Zariyan gave her a wary look and edged away from her.

"As you all know," said Commander Maxton, "our planet is being threatened by the sorceress known as Nox, who styles herself the Queen of the Night. It is her aim to plunge our world into a night with no ending."

"Why?" said Pax.

Everyone stared at him.

"Well, if I'm going to fight with her, I want to know why," said Pax. "I've always wanted to ask somebody. You always read about villains wanting to overthrow the forces of good and plunge the world into eternal night and stuff, but nobody ever tells you why. I wondered if there was any good reason for it."

There was a long pause. Pax blinked at them all, plainly puzzled by the lack of an answer.

"No," said the Commander. "There is no good reason. You should know, by now, that practitioners of sorcery have a tendency to lose their capability for rational thought after a few years."

"Some of them," said Lux.

"Some of them," the Commander agreed hastily. "The point is, we can be sure that she is not thinking completely rationally, and that whatever reasons she thinks she has would make no sense to a sane mind."

Pax continued to look blank.

"She's doing it because she has nothing better to do," Vox explained to him.

"Oh!" said Pax. "Well, that's kind of dumb, isn't it?"

"Yes," said the Commander. "The point is, we can't let that happen, so we've chosen you three to stop her. Thanks to a generous donation from Master Zariyan here, we have been able to develop a set of experimental technologies that will protect you from her dark magic and boost your fighting abilities. Should you prove successful in your endeavors, it is likely that we will be able to commission more like yourselves."

"Oh," said Pax, his face falling. "That's too bad."

Lux rolled her eyes- or at least, she looked like she did. It was hard to tell beneath her hair.

"Isn't it, though?" she said.

"What are we talking about now?" asked Vox. "Did I miss something?"

"I wanted to be a superhero," Pax explained. "You can do that when there are just three or four of you. But they're talking about making a whole bunch. That's not superheroes anymore, that's an army."

"Oh," said Vox. "Is that so?"

"Don't ask me," Lux said. "I was just thinking of what it would be like to have to put up with more than just you."

Vox grinned. "Well, of course, anyone would prefer to be left alone with me..."

"That was a you-plural, idiot."

"Ahem," said the Commander. "As I was saying!"

The three managed to look somewhat contrite.

"That's better," he said. "If I may continue... The three of you will be given sets of powers keyed to boost your own particular abilities and protect you in battle. You will receive them now. Vox Starflare, stand forward."

Vox did as he was told. Zariyan produced a box containing what looked like a set of computer chips and a small gun. He selected one of the chips, colored red, and set it into the apparatus. Before Vox could react, Zariyan had seized his hand, pressed the gun against his wrist, and pulled the trigger. Vox flinched a bit as the chip was injected beneath his skin. A shimmer of sparks ran over him, and he shivered a bit.

"That should do it," said Master Zariyan. "The information encoded in the chip has merged with your central nervous system. All that it should take to activate them is an effort of will. Give it a try."

Vox nodded, somewhat uncertainly, and closed his eyes. For a moment, nothing happened. Then sparks washed over him again, and suddenly, his costume changed. Now, instead of the shapeless jumpsuit he'd been wearing, he wore a form-fitting ensemble of some bright red, glossy material. Gloves appeared on his hands, and a red and gold headband wrapped itself across his forehead. A golden sun was emblazoned across his chest.

"Congratulations," said Master Zariyan. "You have made the transformation. In this form, you shall be codenamed SunLight, leader of the Light Force."

"That's so cool!" Pax enthused. "Me next, me next!"

"Very well. Step forward, Pax Cloudstunner."

Pax didn't step forward so much as he ran, grinning excitedly, and held out his hand like a child expecting a birthday gift. He yelped as the chip was inserted, and rubbed at his wrist. The expression on his face suggested that he didn't think receiving superpowers should hurt. A moment later, sparks ran over his body, and a suit matching Vox's wrapped itself around him. This one was bright green, with a copper-colored comet instead of a sun.

"Transformation successful," said Zariyan. "You are now to be known as CometLight. And now, if you would, miss?"

"Might as well? I can't look any stupider," Lux muttered. She stepped forward and offered the elderly man her hand. It was a very pretty hand, pale and slender and perfectly shaped. Zariyan seemed a bit hesitant about accepting it, all the same. The third and final chip was inserted. She barely seemed to notice.

It took a long time for there to be any reaction, so long that the others started to send worried looks in her direction, and the Commander shifted his feet uncomfortably. Finally, the lights surrounded her, and her form-fitting, low cut jumpsuit was replaced by yet another suit, equally form-fitting and low cut. It was brilliant purple, and had left just enough room for an image of a crescent moon to be displayed on her front. She scowled.

"Who comes up with these things, anyway?" she muttered. "I'm going to fight the forces of evil, for crying out loud, not parade in a beauty pageant! How am I supposed to defend myself when I'm half-naked?" Nobody seemed to hear her.

"Everything seems to be in order," said the Commander, eyeing his troops with an approving air. "You have all absorbed the powers successfully. All that remains is to test them against a real enemy."

"You mean you don't know if they work for sure?" asked Pax, wide eyed.

"Well, of course we know they work," said Zariyan. "We've tested their effects on human beings as well as we can under controlled circumstances. You can see for yourselves that they work. We just don't know how well they work against the Shadowtypes. But it's nothing to worry about," he added hastily. "Each of you has proven your abilities against them with your own powers. Even if they don't do quite what they're supposed to, you should be perfectly safe- not that they're not going to do what they're supposed to."

"I feel so reassured," said Lux. "Truly, you are an inspiration to us all."

"Well, that about wraps it up," said the Commander. "All that remains now is for you to wait for an attack so you can show us what you can do in battle. In the meantime, I'll have someone show you to your rooms so you can..."

He was interrupted by the sudden wail of a siren, and around the perimeters of the room, small strobe lights began to flash annoyingly. Pax jumped and cried out, but the rest of the men simply tensed slightly. Lux gave a resigned sigh.

"Looks like we get to start right away," she said. "Lucky me."

Zariyan scurried over to a computer and pressed a button. A screen turned on, displaying a map and a series of numbers.

"Perfect timing. Shadowtypes have appeared in the 138 block of the Solar Flare subdivision."

"Then that's where we're going," Vox declared. "Come on! Follow me!"

He rushed from the room, with Pax trailing eagerly behind him. Lux shook her head as she broke into a careful jog.

"You'd think they could at least invest in motorcycles or something. Or a taxi," she muttered.

Meanwhile, picking her way through the collection of scientists and government officials that occupied the building, was a single teenaged girl in a neat white uniform. She was feeling rather pleased with herself, at the moment. Not because there was any particular skill involved in getting past scientists and government officials; most of those were usually too wrapped up in their own work to notice people like her even if she hadn't been naturally invisible. No, she was pleased by her ability to avoid the assortment of heat sensors, retinal scanners, and other devices that were employed to keep unauthorized personnel outside where they belonged. It took a special sort of skill to be ignored by a computer, and Mirana had always had the knack for it. Some of her fellow students had to resort to such tricks as forcing light to bend around them to make them invisible, or redistributing heat so that they wouldn't appear to be giving off any. Mirana had always been able to simply convince whatever machine she was interacting with that she was someone who was supposed to be there, had all the correct clearances, and that there was no need to make any records of her presence there. It was all in how you manipulated the electricity.

The only thing that was bothering her at the moment was that she had yet to find the three heroes she was supposed to be keeping tabs on. She was certain they had to be in the building somewhere- it was the only large, official-looking building in the area. As a matter of fact, it was the most impressive structure for miles around, the kind of thing that cried out, "This is the hideout of a team of superheroes!" They had to be in here somewhere. If they weren't, they'd be out on a mission somewhere, and they wouldn't be on a mission unless there was an emergency. If there was an emergency, there should be lights and sirens and lots of people running around in a tizzy, and there weren't, so...

A light distracted her. Miran looked down, surprised, and saw that her brooch had started to glow softly. Instead of being solid black, it was now beginning to pulse in different colors. She stopped walking to examine this phenomenon more closely. What did it mean? Was this some kind of signal? She prodded the gem with a finger and found it to be warm, and it seemed to be vibrating softly.

The Viewer didn't say anything about this!

The sirens went off. Mirana jumped, wondering suddenly if there was a computer she'd neglected to inform of her absence. However, a moment later, she heard the pounding of footsteps, and three characters in brightly colored costumes rushed by, one of them carrying a very large and lethal-looking gun. They dashed straight past Mirana so quickly that she barely had time to see them before they had vanished around a corner.

"Oh, crumbs," she muttered. She broke into a run, wishing she could have a word with whoever had come up with the idea that heroes ought to be able to travel at superhuman speeds.

Fortunately, the Solar Flare district was only a few blocks away, and could be easily found by the numbers of panicked human beings getting away with it as fast as their feet and local traffic conditions would allow. The Lights pressed their way through the crowds.

"Out of the way! Forces of light and justice coming through, here!" Vox bellowed at the top of his considerable lungpower.

"I'll get 'em!" said Pax. "Look out, guys!"

He hefted his gun and pulled the trigger. Several blasts of eye-searing white light leapt from the barrel and streaked through the crowd. Several people shrieked and dove out of the way, leaving a wide path of empty space.

"There! Now you can go," said Pax.

"You can't shoot civilians!" Lux said.

"I didn't shoot anybody," Pax assured her. "Those were just light-flares. You can't actually hurt anybody with 'em. At least, I don't think you can."

Lux sighed. "Just don't point that thing at me, kid."

At last, the crowd began to thin, and the Lights found themselves in an empty street. It was deathly quiet. The group slowed down to a cautious walk, keeping close together as they scanned the area for any signs of movement.

"Where are they?" Pax whispered. "I don't see anything."

"They're close by," Lux replied. "I can feel their presence. I think we need to pause a moment and consider how we're going to deal with these freaks."

"I have a plan already," said Vox.

Lux tilted her head. "Oh? Do tell."

"Well, first we find out where the creeps are hiding, and then..." He paused dramatically, making sure all eyes were on him.

"And then?" Pax repeated eagerly.

"Then," he said, "we clobber them into oblivion!"

"I like that!" said Pax. "It's easy to remember."

"Wow," said Lux. "I'll bet it took you hours to think that up."

"I worked it out through long experience," said Vox modestly. "You know, Lux, I like that about you. So often gals get so hung up on my astonishing good looks that they completely fail to appreciate my staggering intellect..."

"I'm sure lots of people fail to appreciate your intellect," she said. "Now, do me a favor and be quiet so I can track these goons."

She bowed her head and folded her hands prayerfully, and light began to slip through her fingers, as if she clutched a tiny sun in her hands. She extended her forefingers as if she were pretending to hold a handgun, and turned in a small circle.

"That's odd," she said. "I feel... a strange presence."

"That would probably be the Shadowtypes," said Pax helpfully.

"No, it's not that. I know what those feel like. This is something different. It's almost familiar, but I can't quite put my finger on it..." She shrugged. "It's not an evil presence, whatever it is. Or a very powerful one. In fact, I'm not completely sure I felt it at all, now that I think about it. It could have just been my imagination."

What she did not know was that, at that moment, Mirana Sidestep was standing in an alley some twenty feet away, listening to her every word.

For a minute, I thought I'd been spotted, she thought, deeply relieved. It was the first and most important rule of an Invisible: You Must Not Be Seen. Being detected in any way was grounds for severe punishment. An Invisible who was seen was useless, and could be turned out of the House of Shadows to live on her own, unnoticed, for the rest of her life, to try to struggle back into the mainstream world as best she could. Mirana had already experienced the futility of trying to live in the Seen world, and she had no desire to try to do it again. Obviously, though, this woman was someone to be reckoned with- a sorceress perhaps. Mirana would have to be careful around her.

She was distracted from her thoughts by a... well, at first she thought it was a cold wind, until she realized that its coldness came from somewhere inside her, like the chill she got from seeing something awful. There was something not right close by, something akin to her and yet somehow alien, as her shadow was both like and unlike her.

A shadow, she thought suddenly. She looked up, just in time to see something dark creeping across a rooftop. She stifled the urge to scream, to call out a warning. In the next moment, the sorceress gave a cry, and the Lights whirled to see what had caught her attention. There was a blur of movement, and the Lights were surrounded by a ring of dark forms.

What did they look like? It was hard to tell. Evening was drawing nigh, and the street was already darkening under the shadows of the skyscrapers lining its sides. The Shadowtypes were slightly transparent, themselves, seeming to blend into the more natural shadows, but they were perfectly substantial. Mirana could see that in the way they moved, and hear it in the soft padding of their feet on the pavement. Each one was twice the height of a man and roughly human- shaped, but their proportions were oddly stretched. Some balanced on long, thin legs; some had tiny heads perched on broad shoulders; some had arms two different lengths. All had pupil-less, pale, nearly white eyes that bulged from lidless sockets. Right now, they were moving slowly, sizing up these intruders in their territory, but there was something about the weightless way they carried themselves that suggested they would be lightning-quick if they wanted to be.

"...eight, nine, ten, eleven," Pax was muttering under his breath. "We're a little outnumbered."

"No problem!" said Vox. "The greater the numbers, the greater the glory! Let's get 'em!"

He lunged at the nearest Shadowtype and swung one of his fists at it, striking it hard in the midsection. It grunted and staggered backwards. Two more closed in around the warrior in red, and he lashed out at them with fists and feet flying, dodging swipes of their clawed hands.

"Well, he looks like he's doing all right on his own," said Lux. "Time to split up."

"Wha?" said Pax.

Too late, she was gone- straight up into the air, with a leap that defied the laws of gravity. A moment later, she had dropped into a cluster of Shadowtypes like a bolt of lightning. There was a burst of light and heat, and the monsters keened in pain.

Pax watched the show for a moment, lost for what to do next. Somewhere along the line, it had escaped his superiors that just because he knew weapons didn't mean he was necessarily any good at fighting. This hadn't properly occurred to him, either, until he sensed a presence near him, and looked up to see a pair of bulging white eyes staring down at him. He shrieked and ran for his life, completely forgetting the lethal weapon that was slung over his shoulder.

Mirana stood quietly in the safety of the alleyway and observed the fight. The Shadowtypes wouldn't notice her, not unless she decided to act directly on them, and she was grateful for that. Shadow Magic was unpleasant to her, as it was to anyone who used the magic of the Unseen. A shadow was something that could be visible and yet could hide and confuse- something both seen and unseen, in its way. There was something about Shadow Magic that felt twisted, perverted, and being around it made Mirana feel mildly queasy.

Maybe I won't have to do anything today, she thought. They're all doing so well, even without my help.

She watched appreciatively as Vox fended off four Shadowtypes at once by the power of brute strength and surprising skill. He was a muscular, solid-looking man, but he moved with great speed and agility, dodging, pivoting, and then striking with devastating accuracy. Mirana sighed dreamily.

That's what a real hero should be like. She found herself wishing that he wasn't quite so talented, so she might have reason to come a bit closer to him.

In the background, Pax continued to run, legs pumping frantically as the Shadowtype loped along after him.

"Somebody help meeeeeee!" he wailed.

Lux looked up from what she was doing. She had been rattling off a steady stream of light spells, hands constantly moving in mystical gestures. Her eyes glowed faintly with violet light that shone even through her protective curtain of hair. Already she had reduced several of the Shadowtypes to nothing more than piles of ashes and wisps of smoke.

"Great, the kid's in trouble," she muttered. "Can't count on Mr. Macho to bail him out, either. Guess it's up to me..."

She prepared to rescue her comrade, but was distracted as three more of the Shadowtypes arrayed themselves between her and him. She snarled. These things were showing a peculiar resistance to her magic, barely flinching from attacks that should have maimed them, at least. Already her magical reserves were starting to run low, and she wasn't sure how well she'd be able to handle three more of them.

"Sorry, kid! You're on your own!"

Pax didn't hear her. All his attention was taken up by the fact that a monster was close behind him, and it didn't look like it was willing to negotiate. Desperate for safety, the boy dashed down an alley- and ran smack into a brick wall. He felt wildly at the stones, searching for a door or any kind of passage. There was none. He heard a chuckle behind him, and turned slowly to see the Shadowtype filling the entrance to the alley.

"Get me outta here!" shouted Pax.

"Use your gun, you idiot!" Lux shouted back to him. "Shoot the blasted thing!"

"Right, right!" Pax said. He fumbled for the gun, raised it, and pulled the trigger. Bursts of light shot from it, pelting the monster. It backed away, startled, but quickly recovered itself. It was completely unharmed.

"Darnit!" Pax muttered. "It's still set on stun!"

He clawed at the controls with a shaking hand, but the mechanism appeared to be jammed. He continued to wrestle with it as the Shadowtype inched steadily closer.

Luck was with him. Mirana had overheard his shouted conversation, such as it was, with Lux, and she had seen him run into the alley.

"Oh, crumbs," she said. "He's gone and gotten himself trapped. I guess it's up to me."

She cut across the battlefield, ignored by monsters and heroes alike, until she was standing a comfortable distance behind the monster that held Pax captive. Gathering her thoughts, she raised her wand and closed her eyes. She began to speak softly.

"Invisible powers that live in all things, heed the words of your child in her moment of need. Loan your strength to me, who am hidden from all eyes. I call on the unseen power of time!"

She snapped the wand downwards, leveling it at the Shadowtype, and she felt power coursing through her as the forces around her bent to her will. The monster suddenly stopped moving. An expression of surprise crept slowly over its face, because just now, slowly was the only way it could move.

Pax suddenly gave a cry of victory.

"Aha! Stupid me- I forgot to unlock the safety! Now let's see what I can really do. Eat this, Shadowtype!"

He pulled the trigger and felt the satisfying kickback as a bolt of powerful energy shot from his gun and into the startled monster. It didn't even have time to start screaming properly before it was obliterated.

"Yeeha!" he cheered. "That'll teach him to mess with Pax Cloudstunner!"

He trotted out of the alley, flushed with his success. Mirana obligingly scooted out of the way before he could bump into her.

"Hey, are you guys all right?" he called to the others.

"Just ducky," said Lux. She rubbed at a gash on her arm where one of the Shadowtypes had managed to score a hit. It obligingly healed up.

"I'll be with you in a minute," said Vox. He had pinned the last of the monsters to the ground, and had its head clamped in his hands. He gave it a half-turn, and whatever the diaphanous thing had for a neck came apart with a squishing sound. The monster shuddered a bit before fading back into the nothingness it had come from. Vox got up and dusted his hands.

"Now I'm done," he said. "Are the rest of you all right? I know you're not the seasoned fighters I am, but..."

"I'm great!" said Pax. "It was really wild! The monster had me cornered, see, and I couldn't get my gun to work. I thought I was a goner, but then, I dunno, it was like everything suddenly slowed down, and I realized what I was doing wrong, and POW! No more monster. Maybe I'm cut out for this superhero stuff, after all!"

"Yes, yes, you're very special," said Lux. "You killed one whole monster. Never mind that Vox and I killed five."

"That's the difference between a boy and a real man," said Vox.

"Then what am I, a cupcake?" Lux muttered.

"Let's get back to the base," Pax suggested. "I wanna make some adjustments on this thing so I won't have so many problems next time."

"That's the most sensible thing I think I've heard all day," said Lux. "I'm ready to get out of here."

The three of them began walking back to their base, leaving Mirana standing alone in the street. She watched them go. She had just successfully completed her first real mission. She should have been celebrating with the rest of the group, but...

He didn't do it. He didn't do anything, she thought. It was me. He would be dead if it wasn't for me, and he'll never know. Nobody will ever know.

So this was what she had to look forward to for the rest of her life - protecting young fools so the rest of the universe wouldn't realize they weren't really heroes? She had thought heroes were supposed to be glorious, admirable people. She had always thought they would be the kind of people she would enjoy working with. Now she was stuck babysitting for a silly boy and a sorceress who was rude to everyone. Mirana sighed.

This wasn't what I had in mind.