NO CELESTIAL / dick grayson

seven, the son

ON HER WAY back from Madame Wu's, just to be sure the entire story made sense, Remiel stopped by one of the numerous Chinese supermarkets and grabbed a bottle of oyster sauce along with a bottle of dark soy sauce, neither of which the Wayne Manor had stocked.

But no one questioned it when she got back. She was greeted by Alfred, and no one came down to interrogate her. So instead she slipped back into her room after dropping the bottles of sauces in the kitchen and laid down the map on her table.

But then she sighed, because now she'd need to find a new place to store it.

It had taken quite a bit of negotiation for Madame Wu to finally hand this one over. Selfish, in Remiel's opinion—the woman could always have just made another one.

There were other maps of ley lines in Gotham hanging around. She'd probably be able to find some lying in the library here in Wayne Manor. But those wouldn't be accurate enough. She needed exact precision.

But she'd look through it later. She snapped a quick photo of the map on her phone just in case before rolling the scroll up, glancing around the room for a good hiding spot. Finally she settled on the inside of one of the empty vases in the room. Not the best spot, but it was the most she could do so far. As far as she'd noticed, no one had come digging around her room so far.

She'd find somewhere better next time. Or perhaps she'd have already committed it to memory by then and could safely get rid of the scroll altogether.

She went on with her day as if nothing had happened. Tonight would be for patrol, of course, since that had already become a habit. She ought to find a bit of time to meditate before that, then, to make sure she wasn't too tired by nightfall.

The same schedule she'd fallen into for the past few days, really.

An hour of meditation was all she needed. But she was interrupted almost immediately after she started with a knock on the door.

She opened one eye in annoyance. "Who is it?"

It was Dick's voice that responded. "Remiel, have you seen Damian?"

"Of course not, I haven't left my room since I got back."

"Can I open the door?" he asked. "We can't find him."

That got Remiel's attention. She climbed up from the floor, walking towards the door and opening it. "What do you mean you can't find him?"

"Bruce wanted to get him to the Batcave—we just got some news regarding the League, but he's not anywhere in the house."

Oh dear.

"Is his gear still in the house? Or has he taken it with him?" Remiel asked, slamming the door shut behind her and speeding towards the Batcave. "If it's the former, we have to leave now. We might still be able to catch him."

"Where the hell would he have gone, though? If the League has sent anyone to contact him—"

"Not the fucking League. Well, I guess it is the League. If it was Talia and Seraphina he'd come and tell me before doing anything. But he hasn't, so it could only be from someone he doesn't want me to know about."

"You think Deathstroke has somehow contacted him?"

"Only plausible explanation running in my head right now, unless he just decided to head out for a quick visit to the mall."

"Oh for the love of god..." Dick stopped by one of the bedroom doors on the way. "Tim! Get your ass to the Batcave! It's an emergency!"

The door opened rather quickly. Tim's expression morphed for a moment when he saw Remiel, but then he turned his attention to Dick. "What's going on?"