Elayra’s brows rose in an irritated warning when Ghent cleared his throat after his explanation of Mary Poppins. She gave something somewhere between a snort and a growl when he finished with his all too familiar phrase.
	“I’ve met some pretty thick-headed people,” she growled, “but you top them all, Featherhead. [i]You[/i] proved that statement wrong just a few minutes ago! Not to mention…” she let the words trail off as she jerked her head upward toward the shield. 
	She scowled at Ghent’s complaints about his bag versus hers. [i]If the Sorceress doesn’t kill him,[/i] she thought, [i][u]I[/u] will.[/i]
	 “Haven’t you heard [i]anything[/i] Drust and I have told you?” She turned a dark glare on him. “[i]No one[/i] outside the Sorceress’ little circle can cast that kind of magic anymore. At least, no one you would [i]want[/i] to ask for that kind of help from.” Her nose crinkled and she snorted as she finished.
	[b]“It really bugs you that we're this advanced without the use of magic, doesn't it?”[/b]
	“What ‘bugs’ me is your incessant insistence that it [i]doesn’t even exist![/i]” Her hands clenched at her side as he continued. 
	“Well,” she began in a dangerously low voice at his opinion of Wonderland and its need for ‘upgrading,’ paying no attention to his surprise at her returning the candy. “If you can find anyone left who isn’t Curse-ridden, one of the Sorceress’ followers, or at risk of being hunted down and torn apart by the ‘Red Queen’ if they so much as put a toe where she can see it,” she turned her gaze fully to Ghent, only the need of returning to Drust preventing her from stopping to give him a better piece of her mind, “then by all means, tell [i]them[/i] that! What [i]we’ve[/i] got, we owe to [i]survival,[/i] not—”
	Elayra’s words cut off as, from over Ghent’s shoulder, she noticed the vehicle as it came to a crawling stop at about the same time her companion saw it as a reflection. She angled herself defensively toward the station wagon as Ghent gave his order, and instinctively reached to draw her sword. The shield burst into glittering mist. Her face twisted in a growl when she gripped only empty air where her hilt should be, the thunder making her jump as the downpour intensified.
	As the vehicle drew closer, she could make out the driver from behind the windshield, his face distorted slightly by the rain as the wipers struggled to keep the glass clear; the man they had encountered on the street had followed them.
	Mentally scolding herself for not taking notice of their stalker earlier, her muscles tensed as he pulled up to the curb, and rolled down the window.
	[b]“Get in.”[/b]
	Despite the threat in the man’s tone and his potential advantage from inside the station wagon, Elayra laughed at his demand. Hating her lack of weapons and running the few offensive focus words she knew through her head, she met his gaze with a mocking expression, a smirk on her lips. All the same, her gray eyes remained ever wary as she watched for any signs of attack.
	“Not going to happen!” She placed a hand on her hip, ignoring the thick raindrops drumming against her scalp and dripping down her back. “Wouldn’t want to miss [i]rehearsal,[/i] now, would we? C’mon.” She gripped Ghent’s arm and moved to pull him away from the wagon toward a narrow alleyway between buildings a few yards ahead of them, careful to not fully turn her back on Miles.