They ran up the stairs, ignoring the pains that shot through their every muscle. The knife was out of their hands the second they were through the door. It was a good throw, but it lodged in the wood. The intruder, sitting at their kitchen table, ducked. They took a moment to register the scene. Marie was unharmed. She was sitting opposite the intruder, pale with shock. 

The intruder in question wasn’t human. Cora was no stranger to non-humans - after all, they lived in the city. However, they had never seen one quite like this. They were humanoid, their noticeably alien features being limited to pale blue skin and ears that ended in fine points. Cora had seen that shade of blue somewhere before. They (she?) had pure white eyes, framed by long white eyelashes. She (they?) should have been the most beautiful person Cora had ever seen, if they didn’t strike a primal human sense of the uncanny. They set the hairs on the back of Cora’s neck prickling, reminding them that something was off. 

They (or she) were dressed well, in a way that even Cora could notice. Not in the gaudy, ragged finery of a performer. Her clothes had a pure, simple elegance. So simple they had to be fantastically expensive. Their bright white hair was pulled into hundreds of tiny, intricate braids. Done by hand, they must have taken hours if not days. “Humans. You can never stay in one place.” The voice was familiar. It was as cool and clear as falling water. 

“I am sorry for startling you. My name is Odessa.” Cora cleared their throat, not liking the back foot they’d been placed on.
“Why have you broken into my shop, Odessa?” Marie made eye contact with Cora and mouthed ‘stupid name’. Cora suppressed a laugh. 

“The dove spell was impressive. You lasted for longer than most humans.” Odessa reminded Cora of a book they had once brought, hoping for revelations on the nature of matter. It was so vague as to be useless, dangling cryptic hints in ribbons of poetry.
“Give me a straight answer, or I’ll-” call the police? Cora rethought. “I’ll get Smiley’s people down here. I supply their medicines, they owe me.” Cora realised that the threat was meaningless; whatever Odessa was, she was not local. “Tell me everything.” They couldn’t disguise it as an order. 

“The Sea maintains balance - it doesn’t stop suffering. There is an equilibrium that must remain. Your world is being pushed out of equilibrium.”
“And you’ve broken in for the sake of telling us that,” said Marie with disdain. 

“No, that was preliminary to a longer explanation, which I am about to begin.” Odessa either had a very dry sense of humour or complete immunity to sarcasm. “Demigods enter your world far less than your mythology would suggest. Those mistaken for demigods are the children born on the very borders of the Sea, often to one human parent.” Cora rubbed their temples. “That’s me.” She spoke with a hint of pride. 

“Why did you go looking for us?” Cora knew not to give anything away.

“Street preacher. Had a glimpse of true sight that drove them crazy. Said you were…paying more attention than you should be.” That would keep Marie’s acolyte safe; it would take centuries to interview every crazed street-preacher in Drallum.
“I would like to propose an alliance.”

There was a moment of silence. Then Marie started laughing; there was genuine amusement mixed with the bitterness. “An alliance? And you want us to believe that you’re a demi-god?”

“I’m not a demi-god.”
“Whatever. You break into my friend’s shop, spin a tale that makes the Tribune look factual, and expect us to trust you. Do you think we’re stupid?”

“It’s not as simple as you believe it is.”
“Seems simple to me. If you’re as powerful as you’d like us to believe, what do you need our help for? Shouldn’t you just…fix it?” asked Marie, a pleading note creeping in behind the mockery. Cora understood; they, too, wanted someone to ‘just fix it’. 

“There are factions. There are factions who believe we meddle too much. They are currently in power. There’s…politics.” She spoke of politics in the same hushed tones as one spoke of syphilis. “The underworld doesn’t like us, the gods are at best ambivalent…it complicates the situation. Many argue that we have no business trying to right your world. That is why I am here alone, and why I am proposing an alliance.” The idea of politics between gods made Cora queasy. “Do you know what you are fighting against?” Cora saw that they gained nothing from lying, and shook their head. Odessa looked schoolmarmish for a moment as she launched into a story. 

“A minor god, I believe in the human tongue he’s Lux, was once angry. Over a boy. With that anger, he created a soul out of nothing. This is frowned upon by the gods. And by almost everyone else. It’s very difficult, and the created souls aren’t stable. They don’t last and they don’t suit the bodies they’re put into.” Cora, who knew rather a lot about not suiting a body, felt a twinge of sympathy. “Lux found the next boy and got bored of his grand plan with the soul. It became nothing but an inconvenience. A dangerous one.”

“So, in a moment of rage - he was prone to his rages - he tore the soul apart.” Odessa kept her voice steady, but twisted her fingers. “Hundreds of thousands of pieces, and they were - how would you say - cauterised, so they had no hope of reuniting. He cast them into the Sea. They sound their way into different worlds. All they can feel is hate, all they desire is revenge. Lux is long gone, so they channel their rage outwards. Their goal is to rend worlds apart.” There was a long pause.

“Nice story.”

“These fragments are what’s attacking your city.”
“Sure. And the baker’s down the street was broken into by ghosts.”

“Unlikely. Ghosts rarely break anything. Nor are they interested in human commerce.”
“Sarcasm aside,” said Cora pointedly, “You have no proof. This is a lot you’re asking us to believe.”

“Have you heard reports of masked or faceless killers?” The colour leached from Marie’s face. Odessa nodded. “The fragments can inhabit bodies. They’re good imitations, but not perfect. Their faces seem normal at a glance, but are impossible to recall after the fact.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” whispered Marie, trying to convince herself.
“I cannot offer you absolute proof. I am sorry if my actions have not engendered your trust, but, to be frank, you need me. You are trying to fight a being made by a god, near-invincible with no purpose but to hate.” Cora tried to think of something nonchalant to say. There was nothing.

“Alright then. Show us what you can do.” They could pretend it was a selfless desire to learn more about a potential ally’s power. It wasn’t. The fragments of what Odessa had told them left them burning with fascination. They wanted to observe, dissect, watch her do magic and pick apart the strands of power. They expected a refusal, perhaps a lecture.

Instead, Odessa blinked and stared Cora directly in the eye. In a moment, the sense of uncanny that she carried with her was gone. It was replaced by a warm, soft absence of feeling, a pleasant buzzing in their mind. Odessa’s eyes were such a lovely shade of white, whiter than the best paper. They wanted to brush her eyelashes with their fingertips. They wanted to- the feeling ended as abruptly as it came on. A distant cousin of a smile ghosted Odessa’s face. Cora couldn’t remain furious for long. 

“I can cast a glamour.”

“Yes, you certainly can.” Odessa focused again. The temperature in the room (not warm) dropped until Cora and Marie were shivering. Ice crystals began to form on the inside of the window. Odessa’s cheeks darkened with pride. “I am far from the most powerful of my kind. But I will make your mission a thousand times easier.” Cora had become so entranced by the magic show that they forgot to make any proper observations. They found it difficult to be annoyed.

Cora and Marie shared a look. Neither of them liked it much, but the alliance was looking more and more like an inevitability. No use wasting more time. Cora made a ‘ladies-first’ gesture, and Marie cleared her throat. “We accept your offer of an alliance.” In that moment, she could have been any ancient queen. The light hit her hair and glanced off her features. Cora looked sideways to check if Odessa was casting another glamour. 

They didn’t trust Odessa, but the idea of having an ally buoyed their spirits nonetheless. It was overwhelmingly lonely, fighting an invisible enemy. Some of that loneliness had lifted. “So what now?” asked Marie. “And what do you know?”
“The fragments are concentrated around the palace, which is also where orders for purges are coming from.” Odessa spoke to herself rather than the audience, puzzling something out. “They shouldn’t be making laws. They’re by definition agents of chaos, they don't centralise. Unless…”
“Unless?” Odessa shook her head, with the air of a door slamming closed. Cora decided not to press her; they knew it would be useless. Marie took a big pinch of snuff (the box had the initials of some unwitting aristocrat) and grinned with every muscle in her face. “This is brilliant.”“It is?” asked Odessa.
“I’ve always wanted to sneak into a palace ball.”