(A/N): The world hates cheaters.

But the cheaters don't care. 'Cuz they're part of the world, too.

CHAPTER NINE: SAVE THE CHILD

We made it back to the van by five thirty and took off, back to our temporary headquarters. It was a hotel – Charles had rented the penthouse for a few days (He had inherited a large amount of money from a grandfather, but could only keep it if he put it to use 'creating good for the world'). It was nice, but not familiar.

On the drive back Alex and Drake demanded to know everything about what happened during the hour we were there. Charles had told them that they found the entry point and knew that the child had at least had discovered the door (I had told Charles a bit more about the situation when we came here).

It was a long day. We strategized and planned, but each one had drawbacks. I already knew that split-second decisions relying on instinct and luck (more luck than instinct) were more likely to be successful.

But I feared, because I knew something I wouldn't admit to myself.

Night fell, softly. A slow, burning (and possibly painful?) death to the sun. A sacrifice had to be made for the moon to live for another night.

Soon we were driving.

I was out of it, disoriented.

I couldn't focus.

I knew what I was going to do, but I didn't consciously know.

I tried to think.

I tried to see it.

The more I tried, the more I failed.

We were there.

Walking.

Something old and slow followed.

I knew his name.

I could not speak it.

We were there.

I saw her.

I saw the child.

I snapped back into reality. The fear was eating me from inside.

I saw the blackness... two deep, dark chasms. Two manhole covers. I couldn't think what they were.

Long, crimson nails. Bloody bone knives.

One hand. She did not restore it, purposefully. I alone knew why.

"Mother."

It was an expression of fear. And yet, at the same time, joy. Someone who loved me in a strange way was still alive.

But I did not love her.

My love belonged to someone else.

I crossed to her.

"Let them go," I said, looking at her.

"And what in return?" she asked. A slight smile spread across her face.

"I cheated," I said.

The smile broadened.

"So why should I play fair?" she asked. She absentmindedly twisted one lock of her sea-serpent hair. No matter how distracted she looked, I could tell she was listening eagerly.

"Because I know I can't win the game by cheating."

She laughed.

"Make them go now, and hold the deal you speak of, and I will let them go."

(A/N): Lock two cheaters in a room, with no food and no water, for a week.

Sounds like a lead-in to a bad joke, eh?