A warm heat swept across the back of Henry's neck, followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor. Well, that was peachy, Gabriel had probably been knocked out and, with him gone, they'd do whatever they wanted with Henry. Kill him, he hoped, he never thought he would fare too well with torture, not that anyone generally does.

“Let's go,” said a voice which, to Henry's surprise, belonged to Gabriel.

Henry turned to see a man crumpled on the floor, his head draped against the pavement, and Gabriel standing over him, pale as snow and breathless.

“What happened?” Henry said.

“Magic,” Gabriel said, a choke to his voice.

Henry looked down the street, a group of men had just seen what had happened running towards them. Gabriel grabbed Henry's arm and spun them in the opposite direction.

There had been all together too much running tonight for Henry's liking, even if most of it involved running for you life which, granted, gave you an incentive to carry on. They took random turns, zigzagging across the endless squares to try to lose their attackers, who, judging by their shouts, were getting closer. Perhaps they would have escaped, had it not been for the dead end.

The courtyard was filled with mirrors on every wall, of all shapes and styles, from grand Edwardian pieces to small pocket mirrors arranged on tables. In the reflection, Henry saw what Gabriel was talking about, how Inks saw alternates. To him, Gabriel appeared as unwell in his reflection as in real life, however in his reflection, he had a weird green mist that moved across his body, twisting around the contours of his muscles and bones. Henry knew he wasn't human, but then, he didn't know what an alternate who was coloured slightly green did, unless that was the colour they went when unwell. Evidence would suggest his power had something to do with knocking people out, but Gabriel obviously wasn't any good at it, because the man from the street before now stood in front them, blocking the only way out. He wasn't alone.

To his left was another man, built for carrying double decker buses. On his right, a third man of slimmer build stood gleefully, his eyes as crazed as his movements. Henry recognised him from the hospital and seeing him up close gave Henry every validation that running had been best course of action. Gabriel wasn't in fighting shape and Henry had no idea how to defend himself. This was going to go well...

“Hey squid, how are you today? My boss would like a quick word if that's all right? Otherwise my instructions are to, and I quote, 'cave your head in,'” said the man in the middle.

Gabriel coughed, but gave no reply, looking around the courtyard for some escape. A nice idea, but unless they could jump through mirrors like in dodgy fantasy novels, they had nowhere to go.

A glance in the mirror changed the appearance of the three figures in front of Henry quite considerably. Like Gabriel, a mist surrounded them, withering and writhing as it touched their skin, settling as a living tattoo. These men wore red patterns across their bodies, apart from the guy in the middle who wore blue. With such intricate detail, it was impossible to describe how extraordinary the colours and shapes were. Henry could find no sense of what they meant, although he would have happily kept staring at all the patterns that formed on their skin for quite some time, if the threat of imminent death hadn't been present.