Young Writers Society

The group exchanged a look.

"I'm all set," Wally said. "I just need me and my speed."

"I don't need weapons," James said. He glanced over at Rose.

"I don't, either," she said. She gave Megara a small smile. "As long as there's plants nearby, I should be alright."

Jason turned to Megara. "I can make sure everyone else has weapons ready for when you need us," he offered. "Other than that, we should be ready."

"Good. I'll get Marciella ready for the spell, the rest of you try to find something nondescript to wear. I'll show you where to hide and how to know when to come in once we're in the city."

It didn't take long for the people of Gotham - and Wally - to get themselves ready to go. There was a decent amount of dark clothing scattered throughout the manor, and whatever they didn't have Wally literally ran out to get. It also didn't take long for Marciella to send them all to Megara's world, Rose, James and Megara wearing their formal wear and the others wearing clothes that Jason thought made them look like spies.

"Are you ready?" he asked Megara.

They were in an abandoned building, an old hideout of Megara's her father hadn't known about for a long while. He knew now, but it had likely already been thoroughly searched, and anything she'd left here been taken back to the manor for Briar to decide the importance of. The ceilings were high with exposed beams and the occasional board or rope stretched between them, and the walls were patchworks of areas where the wood-covered stone had faded or been protected by now-missing picture frames, mirrors, or sheets of paper that had hung there for a long while.

Megara stared at one particular section of empty wall for a moment longer, then nodded.

"Yeah. The false wall on the east side shouldn't be hard to get into so long as you avoid the patrol. It'll lead you into the weapons room. Don't touch anything, especially if the torches are unlit, just pass through. Don't go into any rooms along the hallway, just climb the ladder when you come to it. You'll exit from inside a wardrobe in one of the east-wing guest rooms. They look normal, but again, don't touch anything. The dining room will be in the west wing, so try to stay out of sight as you make your way there. And I cannot stress this enough, don't touch anything."

The group all showed various signs of comprehension, and quickly departed on their way. The only one who lingered was Jason. Before he joined the others that weren't going in with Megara, he walked over to her and pulled her into a brief embrace - whispering, "Good luck."

Then he was gone with the others.

James and Rose made the little adjustments they needed to look more presentable - fixing cuffs, stray stands of hair and anything else that would make them seem out of place.

Megara looked over Rose and James, checking them for anything that could tell her father and sister that they weren't from here, and that they were trained fighters.

Both of those things will be assumed anyway, said her oft-silenced rational side. She silenced it.

"Are you two ready?" she asked. They were in her home, and she was leaning quite heavily on her cane as she waited. She was trying to mentally avoid the fact of where they were preparing to go, where they would be in only a few minute's time.

They both nodded.

"We'll follow your lead," Rose reassured her. She knew that not everything could be anticipated, but Megara would set the example that they needed. Beside her, James fiddled with the cuff of his jacket one last time before growing almost eerily still.

Megara nodded and turned to lead them to her...the manor.

The walk was quiet, though the streets were not. There were people everywhere in the city, all moving at different paces as they went about their days, ever in each other's way with their chosen routes.

No one paid them any mind, though. Megara didn't spot so much as a curious glance in their direction. To the people around them, they were just another group of nobility. Boring, brooding types with whom they didn't want to associate.

The streets cleared, however, as they reached the wealthier districts, and soon enough, the manor came into view.

It was a tall, impressive building, looking like a palace whiling being, upon further inspection, built more like a castle. It had the beautiful detailing of a manor estate while also having tall towers and the slit-like windows on the lower floors. Good for arrows, but certainly not for climbing through.

The guards weren't visible, but Megara knew they'd already been spotted. If her father didn't know she was here already, he would momentarily.

They approached the door via the beautifully maintained walkway with bushes of strange flowers on either side. They were new, likely of Briar's creation. She had been trying to get into botany when Megara had left. The flowers were probably poisonous, if that was the case, however beautiful the swirling red and violet colors on their petals were.

Then they were suddenly standing before the door. Megara imagined it was far less sudden for her companions, but she dared not look behind her to check. Such an action would negate her neutral expression. She was herself again, as far as her father was concerned. Uncaring, flippant, ready to kill or die at any given time in the day.

The door opened and a young woman in a servant's uniform addressed them, "My lady Ringly-" she faltered when she saw the others, but regained her pleasant smile, "May I take your coat?"

Megara gave a signature roll of her eyes and undid the latch on her cloak, unceremoniously dumping it into the servant's arms as she swept past. That girl had been new when Megara left. She'd been quite surprised to see Megara up and about, and not laying in her bed with her studies as the public was led to believe she would be. Megara was thought to be something of a tragic figure at that time. Always ill, a dedicated linguist, rarely well enough to be seen in public. It was sad, really.

She was snapped from her thoughts by her father.

He was a tall man, imposing in his stance as he stood at the base of the grand staircase. He wore a simple suit, likely not worth nearly as much as he could afford, but the look in his eye made it just as intimidating as the most elaborate suit of armor.

She found herself bowing her head on instinct, "Father."

"Megara." His voice felt as though it was imbued with the power to kill with a word, to hurt with a syllable. In a way, it was. "You've brought guests." He did not sound entirely happy about that matter, but he didn't sound like he had much of any other emotion toward it either. She'd be hopeful if she wasn't already tallying up how much time she'd be spending within an inch on her life after all of this was over.

"I have. This is James and Rose." She gestured to each of them in turn.

Her father turned his eyes on them only briefly before instructing the group to follow him.

He led them to a grand dining room, set with a feast worthy of a king on a table with enough chairs to host the court. They were all empty, however. Only the servants standing against the walls were in the room before they arrived.

"Where's Briar?" Megara asked, hoping her father would simply think it was her own paranoia. If Briar wasn't here, the others could run into her. There would be blood if that happened.

"Elsewhere," he answered curtly, "You needn't worry about her, come, sit."

She did as she was told and signaled her friends to take the seats next to her with a glance from them to the seats they were to occupy. She was at her father's left hand again. She felt ill. She hid it well, however, and waited.

Her father surprised her by turning to her friends, "How did you come to meet my daughter?" he asked them. She prayed to the gods they would answer well.

Out of everyone like them, James had been playing the role of Dick Grayson for almost the longest. Only Tim, Ben and Chris had been stuck in the realm of DC comics longer than him. So James knew a thing or two about intimidating people; if he couldn't handle a cold stare and an thinly veiled threat, he would have never survived this long.

James and Rose took the seats Megara had signaled for them to sit in.

He gave him a confident, suave smile that was the perfect combination of Dick and James.

"We met through a mutual friend," he explained, folding his hands and placing them on the table. "My adoptive brother introduced me to your daughter shortly after they met."

"I also met your daughter through his brother," Rose said. It was a lie, to some extent, but she had met him through James's brother - it was just a different brother.

Her father didn't show much outward expression, but Megara could tell he didn't approve of James. Whether it was his words, his demeanor, or some unknown factor, Megara didn't know. Still, she tensed.

Her father's eyes turned to her and she met them. It was never in her favor to meet anything but a command with anything but the utmost confidence, almost to the point of a challenge. He was asking for confirmation, and she nodded.

Satisfied, he turned back to James. "And did she ask you to come for violent purposes?" He asked it so casually, the same way one might ask for the time or about one's opinion of the weather.

The question was unexpected, but James did his best to work with it.

"Not exactly," James replied. "She had done my brother a favor in the past, and she needed someone in my family to return it. I was the most suited for the job."

"Allow me to rephrase," he said, almost apologetically, "What is the favor she asked of you?"

Megara regretted not telling them how to talk to her father. She could see this going really, really badly within the next minute or so. Still, she couldn't interject, not if she ever wanted to leave.

The door opened at the end of the hall and a small girl, youthful in appearance, walked into the dining room. She wore a white shirt and black dress pants, and a blank expression. Her thick, jet-black hair was tied up in two bunches high up and out of the way on her head.

Megara stiffened involuntarily when she saw the girl, but quickly turned her eyes away.

The girl passed behind Megara's seat and she felt a prick at the back of her neck. When the girl sat down at her father's right hand, she placed a syringe on the table.

As the girl began serving herself, Megara's hand shot to her neck and it came back with a drop of blood.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded, turning to the girl.

"A neutralizing agent. If your heart rate increases too much, the toxin will activate and you will be rendered unconscious," she responded without looking away from the food she was dishing onto her plate.

Megara grit her teeth, "Thank you, Briar, for the warning."

James and Rose showed no outward signs of faltering, but Briar's arrival - and apparent poisoning of Megara - was a sign that things were about to get a little dangerous.

And, of course, there was the question that James still needed to answer.

He knew he couldn't answer with the truth. For one thing, he would never believe them. For another, he would likely see it as a source of concern - if Megara was bringing people from other worlds with her, she must have had an ulterior motive.

So James improvised.

"My family owns a large wealth of resources," he said. "She needed to research something. I'm not sure what. Letting her look through our books was nothing compared to what she did for my brother."

Briar looked at Megara quizzically, "You've continued your studies?"

Megara scowled at her, "I'm not going to stop just because you're not there to insult me while I do."

Their father put his fork and knife down and the girls fell silent. He kept his eyes on James, "What is your family name?" he asked quizzically.

Megara cursed internally. Her father was a big name in nearly every wealthy circle, a carefully cultivated reputation. She prayed to gods she didn't believe in for James's ability to lie.

"Wayne," he said - the answer was without thought. He was a Wayne now; he couldn't imagine being anything else. And if he kept his head in the mindset of a Wayne family heir, it was a lot easier to deal with the threat that Megara's father faced.