"You want me to find your girlfriend?"

"Yes," Torrance replied, sitting up a little in the wooden chair. He was a little uncomfortable, coming into this strange office to ask for help. But the only way he was going to get Julie back was if he hired some professional help. However, like all things in Transverse, the professionals were a little out of the ordinary.

The man on the other side of the desk leaned forward. He pushed back at lock of his light brown hair. "I don't know if I can help you, Mr. Angus. My expertise is a little . . . Well, let's just say most of my clients come to me with special cases. Regular missing persons cases are usually just handled by the local police."

"Mr. Drake, I know you are as fully aware as I am about the incompetence and simplemindedness of our local law enforcement. And in your business, you have to be aware of the strange occurrences in Transverse that most people just try to ignore. Besides, she's left town and doesn't want to be found. Cops just don't have that kind of patience."

"True," Drake said, leaning back in his chair. "Suppose I do take the case, I will need to be compensated. I am not trying to sound greedy or mercenary here, but tracking someone who does not wish to be found does require an exceptionally high expense account."

"Uh . . . " Torrance hesitated. He knew that rates would have to be discussed, but in his blind desire to find his girlfriend, he had not considered how his bank account would fare. "I guess this is the part where I say I would pay anything."

"That sounds like your heart trying to speak, but your head is overriding it."

Torrance looked down. "I could pay you in installments."

Drake shook his head. "I really want to help you, Mr. Angus, but with my current caseload, I can only take on new clients who can definitely afford me."

Torrance stood up. "You're right, Mr. Drake. I probably can't afford to pay you. Thank you for your time, anyway." He turned and walked out of the office.

Drake put his head in his hand. He looked up as he heard footsteps coming from the back room.

"You really should take the case, Frank."

"I know, Blade."

"We need him focused for the battle ahead," Blade added.

"That's why I wouldn't agree to take his money."

"Are you doing this one pro bono? That's a new one for you."

"Not quite pro bono. Julie West could be a valuable ally. Even if only to keep the Midnight Sons on track."

BOOM!

There was an explosion, sending Silas backward. In the real world, it made him jerk in his bed. He awoke with a start to see an older Asian woman hovering in his bedchamber. She was wearing a long red dress with a darker red cloak. The hood attached to the cloak was pushing back.

"Mother!" he exclaimed, throwing his sheets off, and climbing out of the bed. At last, the moment he had been waiting for was finally here. But as glad as he was to see her, he knew that she would be asking him questions that he did not have answers for.

The woman held up her hand.

Silas knelt. "Mother Mai, I welcome you to Transverse City."

"Get up, Silas," Mother Mai commanded as she pulled out two pages from her cloak. "Have you found your heir?"

"Well . . . " Silas hesitated.

"Silas Androvich, where is your heir?"

"Mother, I'm actually not quite certain at the moment. Something keeps – "

Mother Mai held up her hand again and cut Silas off. "Well, then, dear boy, it is time to get certain."

"Morning, Geekboy. You look like hell," she said as she pulled the chair out to sit.

"Very funny in this town," Duane replied, folding the newspaper back up.

"Have you slept?"

Duane shook his head. "Not since you asked me to look up the Order of ‘N'."

"That was two days ago!" Sedona exclaimed as she glanced over and saw the collection of six empty coffee cups on the edge of the table.

"I was motivated," Duane replied. "So, do you want to order something before I saw telling you what I found out?"

"Is this a date?" Sedona asked with a playful smile.

Duane raised his eyebrows. "Call it what you want. You're paying."

"Fine," Sedona sighed as the waiter came up and delivered Duane's plate of food. As he turned to her, she said, "Breakfast Platter number one, except I want grits instead of the hashbrowns. Oh, and bring me some coffee too."

"Yes, ma'am," the waiter said with a nod as he retreated.

"Grits?" Duane asked. "I thought we were too far north for that."

"I know, but they horribly butcher the hashbrowns here."

"Whatever," Duane said.

"So, what did you find out?"

"Well, it all started in the nineteenth century. Some guy name Isaiah Blake. He's a miner in a local iron mine. While he was digging a new shaft, he discovered a series of caverns. Like any miner, he goes and tells his mining buddies about it, and a band of them decide to go exploring. Their reports say that they could feel themselves being drawn to it, but some unknown force. They go down in there and find an underground city. Funny thing about that city, everyone dies on the spot except for Isaiah."

"So, if Isaiah was the only one to survive, how were there any reports to look up?

Duane sighed. "Local newspapers, plus a couple of guys that watched them go in. There was also one or two of them that chickened out shortly after they entered the mine."

The waiter returned with a cup of coffee that he sat in front of Sedona.

"Thank you," she said, looking up for a second. She looked back and Duane and took a sip. "Anyway, everyone but our man Isaiah is dead."

"Yeah, and this is where the story gets interesting. Isaiah had a birthmark, I couldn't figure out exactly where it was placed, but it was shaped like an ‘I'. He claimed it glowed the entire time he was in the city."

Sedona felt the blood rush from her face. She continued to sip on her coffee and hope that Duane would not notice.

Duane continued on, looking down at his notes. "Let's see, he says the city doesn't look like humans inhabited it, and something about a chamber with a book."

"Book?"

"Yeah, he tore two pages of it out, but lost one in the caverns on his way out."

Chills ran down Sedona's spine for two reasons. First, this story was sounding dangerously similar to her dreams - no, nightmares -and second, she was remembering an incident with pages out of a book.

"Geekboy, pages out of a book in a weird city. Ring any bells?"

"I'm too sleep deprived to put things together."

"Dracula had a page he was trying to use for immortality. And Silas seemed very interested in it."

By this time, the waiter returned with the plate containing Sedona's breakfast. Duane just stared at the insane pile of grits that covered nearly half the plate. Sedona picked up her knife and started digging the butter out of as many little butter packets as she could find on the table and smearing it into the grits.

"Silas is interested in all sorts of weird shit," Duane finally said. "Anyway, Isaiah returned to Transverse after this whole mess in the mines. No one believes his story, though, and he's just written off as being insane. Everyone assumes he had some horrifying experience, because when he came out of the mines, his hair was white and his eyes were . . .red . . . " Duane slowed down and paused as he looked at Sedona.

Sedona tried to keep eating her breakfast as calmly as she could. The dream from a few nights ago was still haunting her, and she was sure that not every strand of hair had returned to its normal blonde color.

Duane could tell Sedona was nervous, so he went back to looking at the papers in front of him so she wouldn't think that he was staring at her. But he did notice her hair was lighter than it had been before, and her eyes seemed to have a red tint. Of course, his probably did too from being bloodshot.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Lost my place here. So . . . Isaiah becomes the town drunk."

"Sounds like a fun job."

"He pretty much had no other option. He wanders around in his drunk haze for a few years until he is approached by a man interested in the mine."

"Okay . . . and?"

Duane pulled out a picture and slides it across the table. "This is a daguerreotype of that man, taken around the time of the Civil War. His name is Jonas Androvich."

Sedona nearly dropped her fork. "This looks just like Silas. His great-grandfather or something?"

"The resemblance is too uncanny. Jonas and Silas look like twins."

"That's imposs– oh, wait . . . Transverse."

Duane chuckled. "Yeah, Transverse. Apparently, it's always been weird."

"So, what happened to Isaiah?"

"He disappeared. Jonas bought the mine and shut it down for some reason. And now, the mine belongs to Silas."

"Passed down through the family, right?"

Duane took a deep breath. "I couldn't say, because the only ownership records I could find over the last one hundred and fifty years either said Jonas, or Silas Androvich."

"Have you been getting the feeling that things are getting ready to explode around here?" Daniel asked.

"Ever since Silas came into town. Something's building up."

"Do you trust him?"

"Of course not," Leslie replied. "And I don't think that whatever mission he wants us on is in our best interest."

Daniel sighed. "Sometimes I wish I could just get out of this town."

"I know what you mean. But it feels like we're trapped."

"I've been telling you that you're not trapped."

"Shut up, Grandfather," Leslie hissed.

"What was that?" Daniel asked.

"Nothing," Leslie replied. "Just had something caught in my throat."

"Oh."

Both were silent for a moment. Daniel nervously decided to break the silence. "So, um, you think maybe when things quiet down, we could do something, hang out together?"

Leslie smiled.

"Don't trust him . . . "

"Yeah, I think I'd like that."

"So, you really haven't told me anything about the Order of ‘N'," she said.

"Sorry," Duane replied. "I guess the lack of sleep is getting to me. Um . . . looks like the Order of ‘N' was created based on the knowledge of that single page that Isaiah brought from the Dark City."

"What are they after?"

"I'm not sure. They keep the content of that page a deep secret. In fact, the only information I could find on the Order were just rumors."

"Rumors don't help."

"They do if they turn out to be true. But one of them was more disturbing than the rest."

"What was that one?"

Duane sighed. "The Book of ‘N', located in the Dark City . . . it has the power to turn a man into a god."

Blaze grabbed a piece of newspaper that went flying back. It was the front page of the Chicago Sun-Tribute.

"Great, the windy city," Blaze muttered. "That's probably why this headache is worse. The wind blew out his flaming skull."

Blaze stood up and mounted his bike. As he gripped the handles, he felt something. Or maybe he heard it. It was like a whisper in his ear and a chill down his spine at the same time.

Transverse.

Blaze revved up his bike. He was about ready to head towards whatever interstate would take him south, but then he thought about the last few days. Miami, Atlanta, Charlotte, Knoxville, and now Chicago. The spirit of vengeance was on a mission, and he was almost there. Turning back had not done Blaze a bit of good.

So, Blaze sped out of the alley and made the only decision he could. He headed towards Transverse City. It was no use fighting Ghost Rider now. Might as well face the inevitable and get it over with.

Mother Mai was out for an evening stroll when a vampire jumped out, hoping to taste the sweet flesh of her neck.

Mother Mai held up her hand. "How uncivilized, even for a vampire," she noted as the vampire froze in mid lunge. She motions to a nearby tree. "There, impale yourself."

The vampire nodded and ran headon towards the tree, which had a broken off branch sticking straight out. About three feet away from it, he leapt. Before he could grab the side of the tree, the branch had gone through his heart and turned him into dust.

Mother Mai kept walking until she got to the Wade residence. She rang the doorbell. Sedona's father opened the door.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked.

"Sit," Mother Mai commanded. Mr. Wade walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. Mother Mai then closed the door behind her and floated up the stairs, into Sedona's room. In there, she sat down on the bed, and waited.