Atonement

by CeruleanSlane

Taylor died in the locker. In her guilt, Madison triggered instead and became a superhero, to make up for her mistakes. Seen first on spacebattles, archived here for easier reading and for other people to find.

34. Arc 34: Origin

Notes: Here's the next arc for Atonement finally. In this one, we look into (my version of) the Faerie Queen's origin. Please enjoy, and as stated in the recent Intrepid update, if you would like to see more of my own original writing, you can find the web serial that I just started at ceruleanscrawling dot wordpress dot com.

34.01

"Whoooo!"

My cry of exhilaration filled the afternoon air as I rocketed through the narrow space between a fire escape and someone's satellite television dish, careful to straighten myself out so that I zipped past without clipping anything. Ahead of me, the wall of the next building loomed rapidly, threatening to leave me squashed against it if I didn't alter course or manage to stop in time.

With practiced motion and timing born of over six months of practice, I brought my hands forward and focused on creating a line between each of my gauntlets and the very top of the wall. Judging my speed and the height of it, I gave myself just enough of a yank to adjust my velocity and trajectory so that rather than fly directly into the wall, I was being propelled at a sharp angle toward the roof.

An instant later, I barely cleared it, startling a pigeon that had been nesting nearby into a squawking fit when I shot straight past the poor bird and onward into the sky above most of the nearby buildings.

Spreading my arms out to either side as I reached the apex of my ascent, I gazed out at the city stretched out before me. For this brief moment, everything seemed peaceful and perfect.

A week had passed since the others and I had returned to our own world with Savant, Hephaestus, and the rest of the refugees from Ragnarok. Sometimes it felt like it had been longer than that, considering how much time we had been spending helping to get the people oriented to their new world.

The officials weren't letting them out into the general public yet. Apparently they felt that there would be too much culture shock if they rushed things. Instead, the Ragnarok people were spending most of their days taking a series of crash courses on whatever was necessary for them to know to get along in this world. I wasn't sure how long that was supposed to last, but there had already been some friction between the PRT people running the program and some of the refugees themselves. The people from Ragnarok thought they were being treated like ignorant savages that were going to eat the nearest person they saw if they weren't forced to watch sixteen hours of video on why that was a bad idea, followed by a three hundred question quiz just to make absolutely sure they got the point.

Thankfully, Hephaestus and Zephyr had calmed their own people down, pointing out that they spent decades in a world that was being destroyed. The very fact that they could sit and watch boring movies about the last thirty years of history in thisworld was amazing in and of itself. That had settled most of the arguments from that side, and Director Simms had been smart enough to make a concession for the PRT's side. Though he couldn't go against orders and release them ahead of schedule, he did arrange for field trips into the city and the surrounding area. Any of the Ragnarok people who wanted to could sign up and spend a few hours on a guided tour through the city. That, combined with Simms arranging to have things like pizza and cheeseburgers delivered for those who wanted to taste the kind of food that had long been extinct on their own world, had finished ending what had remained of the bickering.

Pushing those thoughts out of my mind, I gazed at the city itself before closing my eyes. My momentum had run out by that point, and I let myself tip over backwards, arms still spread as I fell back the way I had come. The air rushed past me as I plummeted head first toward the building below.

Just before I would have slammed down into (and possibly through) the roof, I opened my eyes, flipping over in midair. A glance down allowed me to attach lines between my feet and the roof below, and I used those lines to slow my descent just enough that I could bend my knees and land safely.

A second after I touched down, another figure flew into view. Reach, riding what was essentially a skateboard with the wheels removed, hovered in front of me with her arms folded. "You tired already?"

Snorting, I used a line between the board and the ground to yank the girl off balance just enough that she yelped and had to focus on not falling. "Some of us aren't traveling on easy-mode."

"Easy mode?" Hopping off her board, Reach landed in front of me, finger raised. "You're just saying that because you damn well know that I'd whip your ass if we ever raced. Me with any random piece of junk, and you doing your... what the hell weird kind of 'flying' do you call that anyway?"

I grinned at her, even though it was hidden by the mask, adopting a heroic pose. "Falling... with style."

Snorting at that, Reach bumped her shoulder against me while coming to stand on the edge of the roof. "You see anything interesting on your patrol? Because it was flat out dead for me."

I shrugged. "Nothing much. Worst I saw was some kind of argument over a fender bender." Glancing that way, I offered, "It's December as of yesterday. Maybe the bad guys went on Christmas vacation?"

"Sure, that's totally likely," Reach's sarcasm went so high that she came all the way back around to sounding somewhat genuine. "Before you know it, this plan they've got to send the Endbringers through the portal and back to Ragnarok istotally going to work and we'll never watch anyone we care about die again and we'll all have ice cream and gum drops for every meal, happily ever after, the end."

"Ooh, gum drops." I bounced a little. "Well, now I know what I'm picking up at the store later."

The question of why things had settled down so much was a good one. It wasn't like the city was free of gang influence. The Noblemen may have been utterly dismantled, but that still left four decent sized supervillain groups operating in the city. Tender, the gang of former Wards who had quit and turned evil were mostly operating around the north end of the city, where the trainyard and the market were. The Straining Angels, that motorcycle gang that had taken up where the Merchants had left off, were mostly being seen peddling their sick garbage around the docks. Meanwhile, the trio of villains that we still didn't have a name for that included Kismet, Kitsune, and Anelace didn't seem to be claiming any sort of territory at all. They seemed to be mostly sticking to their stated goal of taking down rich people who, according to them, were abusing their money and power. As far as the PRT could tell, they weren't even keeping any of the money that they stole. It was all being given away to people who had been hurt the most by the Slaughterhouse Nine's final visit. Not that the PRT could prove that, given how well the money was being laundered, but it was obvious to anyone paying attention.

Additionally, the Outliars had returned with a vengeance. Not only had Duelitist and Geppetto managed to get Scintillant back after the prison had been destroyed by the Simurgh, but they had also been joined by two more capes whose powers weren't clear yet, and they were managing to do a pretty good job of holding the downtown area against repeated incursions from Tender and the Angels.

Plus, because all of that wasn't enough, Tattletale had let us know that she'd picked up information about freaking Accordmaking his way to the city with his group of capes. Which, by all accounts, had risen by two ever since Whimper and Spruce had joined up with him in the wake of Marquis' death.

So we had no less than five gangs operating in the city to one extent or another, most of them fighting with each other as much as they were fighting us. And the city was still short of both trained PRT personnel and police. All of which meant that the situation in the city was beyond volatile, and I was pretty sure it wasn't going to take much to set off a full scale gang war. So I wasn't going to argue too much if things chose to be calm and boring today. We could do with a bit more calm and boring.

Glancing my way, Reach asked, "You really think the Queen's gonna tell you her life story tonight?"

Shrugging once again, I bit my lip. "I don't know what she's gonna tell me. Yeah, she promised to talk about it the next time we were together, but a lot's happened since then. Maybe she changed her mind."

"I really don't think the Green Maiden is really into changing her mind about much, good or bad," Reach pointed out while levitating her board over so that she could tuck it under one arm.

Tilting my head at that, I asked, "Green Maiden?"

A long, heavily put upon sigh came from my companion. "Seriously? Am I the only person remotely interested in researching this stuff? Where did you think the name Glaistig Uaine came from?"

"Honestly? I thought she told people to call her that and everyone involved said 'yes, ma'am.'"

I could tell that she was squinting at me from behind that visor that she wore. "Be that as it may, the name does actually come from something. It's a type of fuath in Scottish myth-" She stopped, looking at my raised hand with a low sigh. "I need to explain what a fuath is, don't I?"

When I nodded, she dropped the board and floated it behind herself to sit on it. "All right, let's start there then. Probably a good idea for you to at least have some idea about where the name she chose came from before you go in asking questions about her history. How did this not occur to you already?"

Chuckling, I used my foot to poke against the other girl's. "I figured that I could just ask you about it."

Reach gave me a long look at that. "You mean you had a choice between using the internet, the largest collection of knowledge that has ever existed in human history, or just assuming that I'd happen to know enough about this stuff to tell you about it, and you went with the latter?"

Shrugging at that, I nodded. "Yup, that pretty much sums it up." I gestured then. "Was I wrong?"

"Nah," she replied easily. "I just wanted it on the record that you think I'm cooler than Google."

"That," I assured the other girl, "was never in question."

---

"You sure you're gonna be okay here, Ems?" I asked the girl beside me a couple hours later.

Emma and I were standing just in front of the elevator that would take me down into the Birdcage. We had been transported together a few seconds earlier by Strider, since Junket, the cape that was usually responsible for getting me here and then home again, was off with that new roaming Protectorate team that Aegis and Miss Militia had also joined. Apparently a couple of the Elite's offshoot cells were causing major problems that was keeping their attention occupied for the time being.

There wasn't much to the room next to the entrance elevator, though Dragon had done what she could to spiffy it up a little bit ever since I started coming here. There was a couch in the corner and a television for those times when Dragon thought it would be a bad idea to have me go straight in. I'd sit and wait for whatever situation was going on down in the cage to resolve itself, which sometimes took hours. Glaistig Uaine didn't care too much, as long as I was there at some point on the days that I was supposed to be. She'd only had to settle a dispute so that I could enter the prison one time.

"Me?" Emma squeaked. "I'm the one staying up here waiting for the best tinker in the world to come have a chat. You're the one that has to go down into... into that place. How do you stand being in there?" She asked while giving a shudder that was clearly equal parts fear and revulsion. "I was only there once, and I had complete control of the security system. Still not going back in there."

"I'd say you get used to it, but..." I shrugged. "Mostly what helps is the fact that the Faerie Queen won't let anything happen to me. Trust me, the other prisoners don't mess with her."

For a moment, Emma just looked at me through that mirrored plate that covered the top half of her face. Then she blew out a long breath. "Jeeze, your life has gotten pretty crazy, hasn't it?"

I snorted at that. "Says the girl who spends all her time around..." I paused, frowning. "You know, I was trying to start with the most ridiculously overpowered member of that group, but I can't decide who that is. And you're one of the candidates."

"Me?" Emma's head tilted. "But I'm not that powerful."

"Not that p-" Rolling my eyes, I lifted a hand to poke the other girl in the chest. "Okay then, how many different television shows are you watching right this second while you're talking to me?"

I could see Emma's blush as it reached the exposed lower part of her face. "Um, does the security feed into the prison count?" When I nodded, she squirmed for a second before offering, "Four?"

"See?" I poked her again. "Emma, you're a Master who controls any machine within a couple blocks radius. Plus you have what I promise is a completely absurd multitasking ability. Trust me, Dinah recruiting you was not a fluke. You belong on that team right alongside the others. So why do you keep trying to downplay how impressive you are?"

She flinched noticeably then. "It's not about that. I mean, it's not... I..." Swallowing, Emma went silent for a few seconds. When she finally spoke, it was with a weak voice. "I still feel like a fraud. Not because of the others, but because... because it should be Taylor. She should be the one with this power. Not me."

Cringing at that, I took the other girl by the arm and pulled her into an embrace. I didn't say anything for a moment, choosing just to hug her tightly. "I'm sorry, Emma."

"One more month," she said quietly while returning my embrace.

I didn't have to ask. The date was looming in my mind as well. In one short month, at the start of January, it would be one year since Taylor had died. One year since everything had changed.

"I know," I said quietly. "We should do something. I don't know what but... something."

Sniffing once, Emma nodded. "Something to remember her. Something... good. I'll think about it. There has to be something we can do to... God, honor her? That sounds stupid."

"It really doesn't," I shook my head. "I know what you mean, Emma. We'll do something. I promise."

The elevator dinged then to announce that it was ready for me. The security program that Dragon used had apparently determined that it was safe for me to enter the prison.

I breathed out. "Guess that's my cue. Are you sure you'll be okay just sitting here?"

Swallowing hard, Emma shrugged at me. "Like you said, I'm watching a few different TV shows. I'll manage. Plus, Dragon just sent a message that she'll be here any minute." She tapped the side of her head and smiled a little shakily. "Go on, learn all about the scary cape lady."

Biting my lip, I hesitated, then hugged Emma one more time before turning to head for the elevator.

She was right, it was time to learn about who and what Glaistig Uaine had been... before.

34.02

"I greet you, Healer. It is nice to see you have finally come after our previous meeting was broken."

The words came, as always, in chorus. Many voices spoke in unison as the Faerie Queen addressed me from her spot on the reclining armchair that was her throne in this prison. The shredded prison garb that worked as her veil stopped me from seeing much of her face, though I thought there was a smile there.

Giving the powerful woman a courtesy, I began with an apology. "I'm sorry, your Majesty. It was," I started to say that it was unavoidable, or not our fault, but stopped. She already knew all of that, and I was pretty sure the Faerie Queen didn't enjoy being told things that she already knew. If she hadn't accepted that it wasn't our fault, I doubt she would have waited a week before insisting I visit. And the conversation we were having probably wouldn't have been nearly as pleasant as our previous ones.

So, instead of making what would obviously have been pointless excuses, I instead continued my sentence with, "Kind. Very kind and gracious of you to aid our rescue. I can't thank you enough."

From the way her head tilted, I had the feeling that she knew what I'd been about to say before I corrected myself, but she said nothing about it. "Those who seek to prevent or delay our discussions will be dealt with, regardless of which side of the eternal conflict they have placed themselves on."

Taking that warning seriously, I nodded. She wasn't just referring to the Noblemen. She was talking about anyone, even the PRT, who might try to stop me from coming in here. We had made a deal, and Glaistig Uaine was going to make damn sure we kept to our part of it. "Yes, your Majesty. I... may I ask you a question about what happened the night that I missed our scheduled meeting?"

Gesturing to the straight-back chair nearby, the woman who appeared to be so young replied easily, "Your inquiry concerns the intrusion of the High Priest's wayward daughter into city of your birth."

I nodded while sitting down. "That's a pretty big part of it, yes, your Majesty. I um, well, I was wondering why you referred to the Simurgh that way. What's this 'High Priest' and what do you know about his 'children'? Is that all the Endbringers? Do you know where they came from? We found a lot more back on that world that we were sent to. They have a lot more of them there. Is that where the High Priest lives? Is he sending them here to get them away from his planet or something?"

"You will stop now," the order was swift and firm, cutting in before I could say anything else. "Your question concerns matters that are beyond the scope of this meeting. Perhaps, in time, that discussion will take place. For now, however, I will not speak of the High Priest nor his children. This is not the correct time, and you have not learned nearly enough to be prepared for such revelations."

"But-" I started, the idea of knowing more about the Endbringers very nearly propelling me into one of the most idiotic decisions I ever could have made: arguing with the Faerie Queen. At the last second, nearly too late after that word, I bowed my head. "Yes, your Majesty. I... hope that discussing the Endbringers is something that we eventually get to. I'm sorry, I'm just... it's an important issue."

"Every discussion we have is important," the woman replied curtly. "With time and attention, you may eventually come to realize just how important." She paused then before adding, "I will, however, make one thing clear. My conflict with the being you call Simurgh was not an indication of her true power. Had she wished to prolong the battle, it is doubtful that I would truly have been able to prevent her from doing so. These beings, they are not acting at their strongest. They fight as an adult may with children, always holding back from unleashing their true strength."

I gaped at that, my mouth open wide. "What—but... but the damage they do, that's them holding back?"

"Consider, Healer, how difficult it is to damage them," the Faerie Queen lectured. "For all the effort that is put into harming the creatures, they come and go essentially as they please. Their attacks are spread out enough that repairs can be made. They fail to press advantages. Yes, they are dangerous foes even in their restrained state. Yet if ever given reason not to hold themselves back..."

I thought of Ragnarok and swallowed. "They'd destroy everything. If they kept coming, if they weren't holding back, we wouldn't be able to stop them at all, would we?" The words made me feel sick inside.

"It is doubtful that any of your groups would be able to stop the creatures," she acknowledged gravely.

"What about Scion?" I asked tentatively. "He'd still be able to stop the things, wouldn't he?"

For a moment, Glaistig Uaine didn't answer. The figure fell silent while rising from the chair. She didn't simply stand, of course, but instead floated there a few inches off of the floor. Her hand rose, and I saw one of her ghost-like capes appear. This one looked like an old man with a hood and a face that made me recoil. It looked like that of a bug, with wide-set compound eyes and a needle-like protrusion similar to what mosquitoes use to take blood. The word was escaping me, particularly in that moment. Clearly this was another example of the Faerie Queen's ghosts having exaggerated features, or having their costumes and masks blended into their real bodies. Whatever this guy's actual costume had been, it had involved a mask that looked sufficiently bug-like for his ghost to appear this way.

The bug-man ghost pointed at all three cameras that were in the room in succession. Each time he pointed, there was a distortion in the air around those spots that looked a bit like wavering heat lines.

"Now we may discuss things properly without interruption," Glaistig Uaine announced once the distortions were set. "Or eavesdropping ears that are not prepared to hear what I wish to say. I will ask you not to repeat what you learn from this meeting either, Healer. I am aware that you provide information to others concerning the matters we have discussed previously. In this case, however, I must be firm. What I say is only meant for you to know. I assure you, I will view any attempt to divulge this information to anyone else as a betrayal. And my response to betrayals has always been swift."

I swallowed hard, bobbing my head up and down quickly. "I understand, your Majesty. But in the interest of full disclosure, you're still not talking just to me." I held my arm up and tapped the wrist band until he shifted into his spider-bot form. "This is Jalopy. He's my... bodyguard. And my friend."

Floating over to where I was, the Faerie Queen peered at the little robot for a few seconds before speaking again, "This is a creation of the Chirugeon. She has provided you with this creature?"

Nodding, I touched the little guy's back with a single finger and rubbed gently while he peered curiously up at her. "If by Chirugeon, you mean Riley, then yeah. She's my friend too. But like I said, his name's Jalopy. I'd have been killed a long time ago if it wasn't for his help. Right, buddy?"

In answer, my tiny bodyguard stretched himself up onto his rear-most legs, then swept himself down in what I swore was the single most adorable bow I could ever imagine.

Rather than question the idea of such a small thing being able to protect me, Glaistig Uaine inclined her head in acknowledgment of his greeting. "Well met, young warrior. Your final loyalty is to the True Healer, and you will keep private all knowledge that you gain from this visitation, yes?" She waited until Jalopy bounced up and down a couple times for his indication of agreement before nodding. "This is acceptable. The Healer must have protection." I thought I saw her squint up at me then before she added, "Particularly when the Healer persists in wandering into dangerous situations."

Flushing in spite of myself, I shrugged while standing up. "Danger has a way of tracking me down."

Rather than respond directly to that, Glaistig Uaine seemed to regard me in silent contemplation for a few long seconds before speaking. "Do you recall what you asked of me the last time that we spoke?"

Swallowing, I nodded while meeting her gaze as much as the veil would let me. "Yes, I remember. You said that when we met again, you'd tell me about your past. You said you'd explain where you came from and how you ended up being here. You were going to tell me about your life."

Her head dipped in minute acknowledgment. "And so I shall. Return to your seat, Healer. This shall not be a short conversation. Yet it is necessary, if you are to understand when the time comes."

"Understand what when the time comes?" I asked hesitantly while sitting back down once more.

Again, she paused before answering with a single word, "Fate."

---

Glaistig Uaine's Story

Before the rise of the Protectorate, before those who would form their founding members were more than simple, ordinary human beings, a girl stood in front of a candy store in the middle of Edinburgh. She was truly young, not yet even a teenager, though the dirt that covered her face made guessing her actual age an exercise in futility. Her hair was technically blonde, though it had gone unwashed for so long that the knotted mess that remained was far darker than its original color. The ratted and torn remnants of her clothes were too small even for her small, malnourished figure, and tiny pink toes poked through holes in the end of her filth-covered shoes.

At her side, peering just as intently into the window, was a small dog of indeterminate breed. He was a mutt, just as dirty and unfed as the girl herself. Staring at the treats within the shop, the dog whined.

A sudden, loud bang against the window startled the girl into a yelp. She tore her staring eyes away from the collection of chocolate displayed in the window and toward the frowning woman with the apron who stood inside the shop pointing a finger at her. The voice was loud even through the glass. "Oy! I told ye, we ain't giving out no more free samples. Off wi' ya." She made flicking motions with her hands. "Go on then, ye scare away the real customers what gots money. Ain't nothing for ye here."

Giving the chocolate one last look, the filth-covered girl pivoted on her heel and trudged away. After whining for another second, the dog hopped down from the window sill and followed after her.

In the orphanage where she had spent the first few years of her life, the girl had been given the name of Ciara in homage to the seventh century saint. No one knew who her parents were, as she had been found abandoned on the side of the road, half-dead in a rain storm.

In most cases, a young blonde girl would have been adopted right away. Yet, somehow, things tended to go wrong whenever anyone attempted to take in this particular girl. Prospective parents got cold feet and changed their minds at the last moment, one man lost his job so that taking in a new child was not a possibility any longer, and one couple even chose to divorce in the middle of the adoption proceedings. Whatever the various reasons, the girl had remained a part of the orphanage for the first nine years of her life before her chance at adoption had come in the form of an older couple who wanted to have children again, yet were too old to accomplish the act on their own.

That should have been the beginning of young Ciara's new, better life. Instead, she soon discovered the painful truth that her would-be mother and father (both old enough to be grandparents) simply wanted her for a decoration that was not supposed to speak or act out in any way. The mother demanded complete silence at almost all times, while the father's temper was quick and his hand even quicker.

Faced with living that sort of life, or being truly alone, Ciara chose the latter after only a single year of living in that sad household. Escaping from the small village where the couple had taken her, she made her way into the larger city of Edinburgh. Here, she had spent the past six months living on the streets.

Two months into that time, she had met the dog who was now trotting along after her.

The dog had already had a tag with a name on it when they met, though it took some time and a couple of trips to the library (before they had started trying to call the police to take her back to that awful house) for the girl to realize that she had been pronouncing it wrong. Cu Sidhe, pronounced Coo Shee, was just interesting and unique enough that the young girl had taken the big book that she had found the pronunciation in and read more of it. So many of the words and concepts were beyond her comprehension at first, but she had struggled on, reading the incredible myths that the book spoke of.

That book was her most treasured possession aside from Sid himself (the dog had stubbornly stuck to answering only to that mispronunciation of his name even after Ciara had tried to correct herself), and she always kept it hidden in a safe location so that no one would steal it from her. Even if she had stolen it from the library first, she hadn't meant to. She had simply been clinging to the book the day that the policeman had shown up and tried to take her back to the awful people. She'd run out of the building with it in her hands, and by this point she loved the book and its stories too much to give it back. Those stories, those words on the page, had done more to actually raise and care for the always-hungry girl than any adult had for so long. She lost herself in those tales, imagining worlds far beyond this one, where the only thing more omnipresent than her hunger was the danger. For a young girl living alone on the streets, violence and worse was always just around the corner.

As if to prove that, as the young girl rounded the corner at the other end of the street from the candy store, she very nearly ran right into the arms of a uniformed police officer. He seemed surprised, though not that surprised, to see her. Clearly the woman in the store had called to report her.

As soon as she saw the man, Ciara turned back and ran the opposite direction. He shouted after her, calling for the girl to stop. Instead, she ran faster, her small legs pumping impressively quickly given her size and lack of real nourishment. Dodging between people on the sidewalk, she glanced over her shoulder and then slipped into an alley. Running fast, the girl shot to the other end and emerged on the next street over before plunging headlong into traffic, heedless of the danger.

She ran around cars that were busy honking wildly at her, narrowly avoiding being hit multiple times. Finally, triumphantly, the girl hopped up onto the next curb, already plotting the best route back to her current hiding place.

All at once, there was a sudden squeal of tires behind her, accompanied by a blaring horn. On the heels of that came a sickening crack and a howl of misery that was torn away almost as soon as it reached her.

Ashen-faced, Ciara whirled back around. Her eyes were riveted to the broken, shattered figure of the dog that had been her only companion and true friend. The box truck that had run him down had finally stopped, but the damage was done. Cu Sidhe had been killed almost immediately, small mercy though it was.

For a few seconds, the ten-year old girl did nothing, said nothing. Her wide, horrified eyes flooded with tears as she stared at the bloody remnants that had, seconds earlier, been her only friend in the world. The scream that began to tear its way out of her throat had barely begun before her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed to the ground.

And then... in that moment of total loss and devastation, the girl saw the most powerful beings in existence, making their way through the void to this small world. She saw the creatures of immeasurable strength, and in her loss and pain... welcomed them.

34.03

Covering my mouth with one hand, I stared at the Faerie Queen for a moment before finding my voice. "I—I'm sorry you lost your dog, your Majesty. It... sounds like he was a good friend."

Inwardly, I was trying to cope with the idea that someone as extraordinarily powerful as Glaistig Uaine was had ever been just an innocent little homeless girl living on the streets of Edinburgh, whose trigger event had been the accidental death of her dog. That simple, though horribly tragic event had helped to create one of the single most powerful parahumans on the planet. It was a lot to take in.

She'd lost the dog that had been her only friend. Was that why Rachel Lindt had been left alone for the most part when she was in the Birdcage? Was that why she'd gotten away with taking over a whole (albeit almost entirely unused) block where no one had really challenged her? I'd thought it was just luck and possibly force of personality or something, but if the Faerie Queen had had a hand in ensuring that the girl and her dogs were left alone, it would explain that a lot better.

The veiled woman's chorus of voices were sharp as she rebuked me with a dangerous look. "I do not require your pity or concern, Healer. Your urges are understood, the sleeper within you cannot help but wish to fix its injured and ill ilk. But I am not of their kind. The life I describe to you now is far in the past. It cannot affect the present in any fashion, and is of no true concern. You will remember that."

Swallowing back the initial, knee-jerk response that tried to come then, I forced myself to nod instead. "Sorry, I just... I'm sorry, please go on, your Majesty. I would like to hear more. That was how you gained your powers?" I tried to phrase that diplomatically, but I had no idea how to put it any better. "And, um, what exactly did you mean by the powerful beings floating through the void?" Something about that description had tickled my memory, but I wasn't exactly sure what it had reminded me of.

Briefly, Glaistig Uaine was silent. I could see her studying me, quietly considering her next words. For a second, I was afraid she was going to call off the rest of the explanation. Instead, she shook her head while replying, "The latter revelation shall come in its own time. As to the former, yes and no. They were not the abilities as you know them. My initial strengths were far more... subtle."

Blinking at that, I let my head tilt curiously to the side. "Subtle? You mean your powers were different?" She'd had a second trigger, I realized belatedly. Like Aisha after Grue had been killed.

"Yes." The veiled head bowed in a nod before she continued thoughtfully. "This was during the time when the sleepers were only just beginning to rise. The Erlking had revealed himself, and some of our kin had begun to awaken their own gifts. None were truly out in the light, however. This was before the time of what you call capes, when we were still shrouded in rumor. Chaos and uncertainty was rampant in those days, when the sleepers were revealing their gifts only in secret and subtle ways. Very little of what is now common knowledge was then understood. The Fae were awakening, yet they remained lost as to their purpose or even their true history. Most believed they were the only ones, that they were alone aside from the golden man who appeared from time to time. It was confusing for many."

I bit my lip, hesitating before speaking up when she looked at me expectantly. "For you?"

Through that veil, I thought I detected the smallest indication of a smile. "Yes... particularly for me."

---

Kneeling there in the street as people gathered around to witness the mangled and broken body of the only true friend she'd had, Ciara slowly regained her senses. Voices assailed her from all sides; people asking if she was all right, the driver of the truck babbling apologies and lamentations alike, and the sound of rapidly approaching police sirens announcing that someone had contacted the authorities.

The police. They would take her. They would send her back to that awful place, where neither the man nor the woman who had claimed to want her would care that Cu Sidhe, that Sid had been killed.

It was only that thought that drove the ten-year-old girl off of her knees. A woman wearing a long rain coat and a worried expression reached for her, but she danced backward out of reach. Words came from the woman, words meant to calm the girl and ask if she needed help. No. No help. She'd call the police, and the police would send her back to the ugly people who hated her. She didn't need their help.

Spinning away, Ciara ducked beneath the outstretched arm of a well-intentioned man who was trying to stop her from running away, elbowed her way past a startled woman who had been trying to see what all the fuss was about, and then took off in a sprint that carried her rapidly down the sidewalk.

Nausea filled the girl while the water from her eyes all-but blinded her. She ran through a haze of tears, only her desperate need to stay away from the ugly people who had hurt her outweighing the urge to collapse to the ground, curl into a ball, and mourn the loss of her friend.

Sid. No. No, Sid couldn't be gone. She needed him. He was her friend. She fed him as much as she could manage, splitting her meager supplies with the animal, and he scared away the people who tried to get too close to her. They slept together, her head against his side while his ears remained alert for any unexpected and uninvited interruptions. He kept her warm through the cold nights. The two of them had been inseparable for the past four months since they had met, companions to the end.

The end had come, and now Ciara was alone again. Four months that had seemed to be so long for a girl of her youth had been wiped away in an instant. Her friend was gone. Sid... Sid was gone.

Her head itched, an impulse driving her to turn left at a corner up ahead. She had no particular reason to turn that direction. Actually, what she really wanted was nothing more than to return to her latest hiding place so that she could lay there, alone, and mourn the loss of her friend. Going there would require turning the other way, however, and something deep inside her wanted to go left. It was nothing that she could even hope to explain, not even to herself. The almost physical urge was powerful and almost inescapable, and she found herself following a path that she had no reason to travel. Her small feet pounded against the cracked cement as she ran, the trainers on her feet flapping occasionally from the force of her running, so worn through that some of her toes could be seen through them.

The winding path took the girl far beyond her usual areas. She ran for almost thirty minutes, stopping occasionally to breathe. She was hungry and thirsty, though the latter she was able to quench at the fountain in a nearby park. Still, that inner urge drove her onward, to a specific destination that she didn't yet understand. She ran around startled people, passing shops and tenements on her way.

Finally, she stopped in front of a wooden gate beside a tall house on the corner of a quiet street. On the other side, the girl could hear someone cursing in some other language. She didn't understand the words, but the intention was clear enough. Ciara hesitated for a moment before her small hand reached up to unlatch the gate and push it open, revealing the beautifully maintained yard beyond.

Another girl, who appeared to be only a year or two older than her, stood in the middle of that yard. She wore a dress that was far too large for her, like a child playing in the clothes of their mother. It hung off the girl in spite of her attempts to keep it up while she ranted on in that explosive language.

"What's wrong?" She finally asked, upon realizing that the unexplained urge had led her to this spot.

The girl in the ill-fitting dress whirled around so fast she nearly tangled herself up in its folds. "Vha—hey!" She lifted a hand (covered by the sleeve of the dress) to point. "Did it happen to you as vell?" The girl's accent was distinctly German, a relative oddity to Ciara. More interestingly, a small, yet brightly colored light seemed to dance inside the girl. It was as beautiful as it was fascinating, and she was distracted staring at it for a few seconds before the other girl repeated herself, louder that time.

Frowning, she stepped cautiously into the backyard. She stared at the girl for a second as a thought popped into her head. "You're not supposed to be this little. You're supposed to be older."

"Ja!" The girl bobbed her head. "I am sirty-nine years old! But now I am not! Vhy? Vhat has happened? I vas only vishing dzat my mutter had not passed avay, und now I am dzis child!"

Closing the gate behind her, Ciara observed the girl for a few seconds. Her mind filled with ideas that she knew instinctively did not come from her imagination. They were the truth, though she could not hope to explain their origin. She simply knew."You put some of your years away," she explained.

Staring at her, the other girl blurted, "Vhat? Vhat are you talking about? Who are you? Vhat did you do to me?" She demanded the last bit angrily, storming toward Ciara and nearly tripping in the process.

"I didn't do anything," Ciara replied, positive by this point for reasons she couldn't understand. She looked at that flickering light for a moment before raising her gaze to the girl herself. "It was you. You made yourself young." Head tilting, she added, "You can fix it again, if you want to."

The German girl shook her head in disbelief. "Vhat do you mean, I did it to myself? How? Und how do I fix it dzen? I do not vant to be dzis helpless little girl. I vorked hard to get vhere I am."

The information came easily to Ciara, and she spoke as quickly as the thoughts arrived. "You put the years away. You can put them back again. It's like when you suck in a lot of air or blow it out. Think about how many years you want back and umm, push them out again."

After giving her a long, doubtful look, the girl closed her eyes and focused. She was clearly startled when her features immediately began to distort, aging rapidly. She went from being on the very cusp of her teens to being in her late thirties within the span of about a minute, her body rising to fill the dress.

Through it all, Ciara stood and watched, fascinated. She had 'known' it would work, and yet actually seeing it was still astonishing. How? How had she known to come here? How had she known what had happened to the woman? Why had she been drawn to this place just in time to help like this?

The woman herself had most of the same questions. "Who dze hell are you, little girl?" She demanded as soon as she had straightened the dress out a bit. Fully aged, the nearly forty year old woman was a bit dumpy in the face, with heavy worry lines and hair that was already graying. "How did you know?"

"I... I just knew." The exhaustion from her run was catching up with Ciara rapidly, and she slumped a little bit. "I just... knew I had to come here. And I knew what was wrong, what you could do."

"Vhat else do you know?" The suspicious German woman asked in a careful tone.

More information about this strange aging ability filled Ciara's head, and she began talk once more.

---

Most of a year passed. The German woman, whose name was Senta Heibel, had taken Ciara into her home, feeding and clothing her in exchange for the information and explanation that only Ciara could provide. The girl had helped her come to terms with the ability that she had manifested, teaching her how to use it as the information itself simply filled her head just by focusing on her.

Senta's power wasn't limited to simply aging or de-aging herself. She could make someone else younger with a touch, storing their years the same way she stored her own. Alternatively, she could push years she had drained away from one person into another to make them older than they should be.

For her part, Ciara had been drawn to a couple of other people in the city as well over the past year. Each had manifested their own unique gift that she was able to, just by looking at them, understand and explain so that they would know how it was meant to be used. These gifts came with no instructions or explanation, the people who received them often baffled and terrified by what was happening to them until this small, simple-looking girl would appear and explain what they were capable of.

All of them had that pretty, flickering light inside them. She could, with a thought, stop seeing that light so that it didn't distract her so much. But she was always aware of it when it was there, and it was only there in those that had powers, those she was drawn toward.

They were like the Faerie that she liked to read about so much, Ciara had decided very early on. These powers that people were awakening with were like Faerie gifts, and the lights that she could see twinkling inside those who had the powers were... what, the Faerie themselves, gifting their strength to their host? She hadn't decided yet.

Senta had taken to calling herself Schwarze Tante, German for Black Aunt. She was using her power to give older people, those who could pay the fees that she charged them, some of their youth back. She didn't do it often, but it was enough for them to live quite comfortably without any other work.

One morning, very early, Ciara woke to an odd feeling. Twisting around in the small bed that Senta had provided, she tried to understand what it was. Then she knew. There was another Fae in the house beyond herself and Senta. No, wait, more than that. There were two additional Fae in the house.

Rising from the bed, Ciara tiptoed to the door and peeked out. The sound of voices from further in drew her that way, though she remained as quiet as possible for reasons she couldn't explain.

Three figures were in the large, wide-open living room. She saw Senta nearest to the doorway that she was peeking out of, and two men standing across from her. Both had the flickering Fae lights in them, though she only recognized one of them. He was a man that she had helped understand his power of manifesting tiny shards of sharp metal that would cut through almost anything they were shot at. The other man was unknown to her, though the way he floated off the floor would have made his empowered state clear even if she hadn't been staring at the flickering light that danced inside him. Simply by looking at him, she knew that his gift involved manipulating gravity for himself or anyone in his line of sight.

"Ye dinnae have a choice here," the man she didn't recognize was saying to Senta. "Either ye come with us, or Malcolm there'll make ye regret it, I promise that."

In demonstration, Malcolm, the man she had helped, thrust his hand out. A half-dozen of those marble-sized sharp spikes shot right past Senta's face, embedding themselves in the wall.

Ciara was appalled. This wasn't what they were supposed to be doing! Why were they arguing? Why were they fighting? This was wrong. Quickly, and without thinking, the young girl pushed through the doorway while blurting, "Stop it!"

Taken by surprise by her entrance, both Malcolm and the unidentified man whirled. She saw more of those tiny spikes coming her way, and distantly recognized Senta's voice as the woman shouted a warning. Before she understood what was going on, the German woman had hurled herself into the path of the incoming spikes.

She fell there, almost directly at Ciara's feet. Blood soaked through the floor, and the suddenly horrified girl was cast back once more to the memory of another friend who had been lost almost a year previously.

Screaming a denial this time, the girl fell to her knees while both men stood in frozen surprise. The light in Senta's eyes was fading... fading... and that denying scream continued while she grasped for the woman's bloody chest, trying in vain to hold it in. The blood kept coming, it kept pouring out no matter how she tried to stop it. Her hands were too small, her efforts too pitiful to stop the blood from leaking out around her fingers.

Again. Again. The only friend she had. Her only real friend in the world, the person who had taken her in... was... gone. The realization drew another throat-cracking scream from the little girl.

The void returned, creatures beyond imagining drawing ever closer on their long, winding journey through the stars. She saw them, she understood them. She knew their path.

Her eyes opened, and Ciara saw the body of her friend lying beneath her. The light that she had taken to thinking of as Fae twinkled more softly with each passing second. Now, however, Ciara felt drawn to reach toward the light. Pressing her hand against that bloody chest as she stared into the empty, sightless eyes, she summoned the light to her.

Crone, she thought almost absently. The light, the Fae, was called Crone. They were... living beings. Living, but trapped, often within horrible, awful beings that didn't deserve their gifts. The Fae lights were sleeping... they were simply sleepers within the beings that contained them. Some deserved their gifts, while others... did not. Those who treated their Fae poorly, they did not deserve what they had been given. Their Fae deserved to be free. And she would see that they were never abused again.

The light that was Crone came, flowing into the eleven-year old girl with a feeling of warmth and acceptance. Ciara could feel the presence of her friend once more. Senta hadn't disappeared. She wasn't gone. Not entirely. Not like Sid. This one she could hold onto. This one she could protect.

The two men, both of whom were just coming back to themselves, started to rise once more. They didn't look like themselves any longer. To Ciara's gaze, their features were horribly exaggerated and twisted. They looked almost like demonic interpretations of themselves, and she was almost startled enough to cry out.

Instead, she closed her eyes tightly and then opened them again. The features of the men faded back into what they should look like, both of them pushing themselves back to their feet. Before they could do more than that, however, she pointed her hand and focused on the light that she had just taken into herself.

Senta deserved her revenge.

With that thought, a figure appeared in the air beside her, a ghostly shape that looked enough like Senta to pass, even if the features were a bit distorted and exaggerated similar to how the men's had been a moment earlier. She floated off the ground and, at a thought from Ciara, dove straight for the man who had killed her.

Malcolm barely had the opportunity to cry out before the ghost-like woman's somehow solid hands were wrapped around his throat. Under her grasp, he aged rapidly. In the span of less than half a minute, he grew old and decrepit before collapsing as his skin literally rotted away from age.

The other man, the gravity-manipulator, had stumbled back from the ghost with a look of abject horror on his face. "M-Mal?!" His voice shook with terror.

Ignoring him, Ciara stepped forward. She saw the light in Malcolm's now-rotted body and extended a hand toward it. At her touch, the light, like Senta's, promptly flowed into her.

The gravity-man's eyes were wide with shock. He stood for another second before spinning on his heel to run. After two steps, however, his path was blocked by the appearance of another ghost-figure. Malcolm, his own features distorted and notquite right, floated there in the doorway.

Stumbling back, the man pointed a hand, reflexively trying to use his power against the ghost. When nothing happened, he blurted, "Wh-what the fuck?!"

Slowly, Ciara turned her gaze away from the ghost of Senta and toward the man, whose wild, panicked eyes were darting back and forth between her and the ghosts. When she spoke, it wasn't only her own voice, because this was a justice that was for more than just herself. This was a justice for the Fae, who would never again be trapped with those who abused them. She spoke with three voices in concert: her own, Senta's, and Malcolm's. The trio of voices spoke together as one, while the two ghosts moved toward their next target.

"You... have angered... the Fae.""

34.04

My first instinct after the Faerie Queen described the situation that had led to her second, even more traumatic trigger was to tell her how sorry I was. The idea of the young girl just barely getting what had to have been the closest thing to a real home she had ever experienced torn away from her with the violent murder of the woman who had taken her in was horrifying. At one point, the figure in front of me, the woman who terrified so many with the power that she wielded, had been a scared little girl.

What, I wondered, would the world have been like if those men had never tried to force that woman into working for them? What would it have been like if the girl then-called Ciara had simply been allowed to grow up in that household, perhaps eventually becoming a hero once capes became public knowledge? What kind of world would we be in now if things had gone differently?

Of course, it wasn't really fair to look back on history that way. It was just as likely that things could have gone much worse if you started changing key events. It was easy to decide that the present would be better by picking out specific events and ascribing the most positive outcome of each to them. In the end, it meant nothing. No one could really change the past. Not to that extent anyway.

Still, logic aside, I felt horrible for the girl that Glaistig Uaine had been. A not-insubstantial part of me just wanted to embrace her. She'd basically just told me something so horrible that every fiber of my being physically ached to help her somehow, tofix the awfulness that had been her childhood.

As clinically detached as her description of the relationship with Senta had been, I could read behind the lines. This was a young girl who'd had no one, and a woman who, once she knew what her powers were, had no reason to take her in. Yet she had. And the girl then-called Ciara had stayed there. They had lived together for a year in what had to have been the closest thing to a stable life she had ever known. And then it had been ripped away. With all that in mind, it was almost physically difficult to resist the urge. Even knowing what I did about how she would react, I wanted to do or say something.

But the fact was that she hadn't exactly enjoyed or accepted my condolences on the loss of her dog, so I had no doubt that saying or doing the wrong thing right now would make her shut down completely. She'd shut me out again, and I knew I wouldn't get another chance like this.

So, biting back my instinct, I forced myself to speak carefully. "It's... a shame that your caretaker was killed, your Majesty. It sounds like... she would have been a great asset for you to have while you were growing up and still learning the nuances of your power. Her death was a... waste." I felt sick inwardly while saying something so callous, but it was the best I could do without driving her away.

For a few seconds, the veiled girl simply stared at me. Her expression, as much as I could see of it, was inscrutable. The silence was almost deafening in its totality, and I began to wonder if I had said the wrong thing after all. In the end, however, just after I began to fidget uncomfortably, she bowed her head minutely. "Yes." Her voices were so soft that I began to wonder if I'd heard them at all. "It was."

Swallowing hard, I hesitated before speaking again. "Have you been... without a mentor since then?"

Her eyes showed that she knew what I was asking, whether she'd ever had a friend or a person who cared about her since Senta had taken her into her home. Whether she had anyone who cared at all.

"The Fae lead difficult lives in search of their destination

," her voices spoke in careful concert. "By design, a Sleeper's life cannot be one of peace. Challenges must be overcome, quests completed, and information gathered. That is the only way that the annihilation of their greatest foe will be achieved."

Biting my lip, I gestured with one hand thoughtfully. "You mean the um, the great End that you mentioned before? You said that this civilization, the Fae, were trying to find a way to stop the End of Everything, right? Like, the death of as many lives as there are grains of sand upon every beach on every world that has ever existed. That's what you said they were trying to stop."

Again, her head bowed in acknowledgment. "Very good, Healer. Yes, the Fae must prevent the End."

After hesitating for a second, I asked, "How did you learn all of this? I mean, how do you know so much about the Fae?" Not that I really believed that the powers came from Faeries, of course. But there was some element of truth to what she was saying, and I couldn't help but think that if we could sort through enough of the fancy, the facts might answer a lotof other questions.

"That is a question for another time, Healer."

The admonishment came with what seemed like an indulging smile. "There are other parts to this story that you must understand before we speak of events out of turn. But those parts of the story must wait. I believe you have learned enough for now. You should not be told too much, too soon. I promised to explain what circumstances led to my... triggering, as you put it. Do you believe that I have adequately kept that promise?"

I nodded quickly. "Yes, your majesty. Thank you. I'm just sorry I didn't get to hear this story sooner." I opened my mouth to say something else then before hesitating. My fists clenched as I remained silent.

"Something else troubles you, Healer?"

The Faerie Queen asked after a moment, her voices curious.

"

Yes," I answered before falling silent. She was quiet as well, both of us sitting there saying nothing. Glaistig Uaine was clearly patient enough to wait to hear what I wanted to say, but I wasn't sure I should say anything at all, despite how strongly I felt about it. More than at any other time that I'd felt pressed to say something, I was afraid of how this could go. A not-small part of me wanted to stay silent. It would be so much easier not to say anything at all. She had answered the question. She had opened up to me more than she had ever opened up to anyone, I was certain. If I said anything, I risked jeopardizing that. I risked making her withdraw, or worse, pissing her off. I risked everything.

And yet, I stood from my chair, turning to face her. Knees quaking, I spoke firmly. "Your Majesty... I'm not talking to you right now." Her chin lifted, and I continued quickly. "I'm talking to Ciara."

A stillness even more complete than the silence that had reigned before rose over the room, an almost palpable and oppressive chill. "Mind yourself carefully, Healer. Some words which might seem brilliant at the time may hide devastating consequences. Do not think yourself irreplaceable simply because I am fond of our meetings. You are important, as is the third of our number, but I will not tolerate disrespect. Though it is not my desire, if must be, I will use the Fae within you without your input."

Swallowing hard, I gave a slight nod. "Maybe you will. Maybe you'll have to, eventually. Especially the way things tend to blow up around me. The fact is, I don't mean any disrespect, your Majesty. But I'm not going to be silent either. You say I'm a Healer. Actually, you said I'm supposed to be the True Healer. That's my job, according to you. I'm supposed to help the Fae. But it seems to me that you're not letting me do that job, Faerie Queen. You're not letting me help the person that needs it the most. And... and I can't just sit here and not do something. I can't. My... call it my Fae if you want to, call it whatever you like, but it won't let me just sit here and do nothing. So I want you to know that I'm not talking to the Faerie Queen. If you want to kill me after this, I can't stop you. No one can. But I won't be silent either. I can't. That's not the person I am. And if that means you kill me... well.."

I fell silent, staring at the figure who sat there on her makeshift throne. She didn't move or speak at all, her shrouded gaze remaining locked on me. For a minute longer, both of us stayed like that, neither speaking or moving. Whatever thoughts Glaistig Uaine had to what I had said she kept to herself.

Finally, slowly, I reached out. Hand shaking slightly in spite of my efforts otherwise, I reached until my fingers found the cloth of the veil that the girl wore over her face. Carefully, I pulled the cloth remnants out of the way, tugging the veil off to reveal the full and uncovered face of the girl beneath.

Cold, otherworldly eyes that had seen far too much even before she had triggered all those years ago regarded me in continued silence. I could see the harsh years reflected in that gaze, yet there was also something else. Maybe I imagined it, or just wished it was there, but I thought there might have been something, some tiny flicker of something else behind that stoic gaze that had been buried for so long. I couldn't draw it out yet, not entirely. It was too fast, too soon. But I could dothis much.

"

Ciara," I said, willing my voice to remain as steady as possible in spite of my fear. The ache that I felt for this girl and what she had gone through trumped any other emotion. "I'm talking to you. Not the Faerie Queen. Not Glaistig Uaine. Not any of the dozens of other shades you have as a part of you. You, Ciara. What happened to you was wrong, and awful, and... and tragic. You lost your only friend, not just once, but twice. You lost your dog, your companion, and then you lost the woman that took you in. I'm so, so sorry that happened to you. It's not fair. It's awful, and then you didn't have anything. You didn't have any friends, any family, nothing and no one to look up to. You had nothing. Then... you had the Fae. They give you structure, they give you purpose, and they give you a future. They give you a reason to exist, rules to follow and a society to be part of. The society you were supposed to be part of, humanity, it failed you. We failed you. You were an orphan, a girl nobody wanted. And when you finally found someone, that was taken away by more humans. No wonder you rejected us. No wonder you don't see yourself as a part of the people who tossed you aside and ruined every bit of happiness you had. No wonder you prefer the life of the Fae. If I were you, I would have rejected us too."

Throughout it all, I hadn't broken the girl's gaze. I stared into those eyes and continued. "But I'm telling you right now, Ciara, I'm telling you what someone should have been able to tell you all those years ago. You are not alone, and it is okay to move on."

Something definitely flickered in those eyes then, a flash of emotion that was quelled instantly. I went on. "Moving on, growing up, becoming the people that we want to be, none of that means forgetting the people that we lost along the way. Growing up doesn't mean forgetting Senta or Sid. Growing up doesn't mean becoming a part of the same system that failed you so horribly. It means working to make that system better. It means... it means keeping a part of those people who cared about us. Not as spirits to do our bidding, but as memories and lessons. We keep their memories, we keep that part of them that we care about, and we move on. We live on. We continue. We grow up. We get better, and we try to make the world itself better. We don't forget the people we love by moving on. The act of moving on itself means that we remember them not as they died, but as they lived. We remember the way they lived, the way they would have lived. That's what we remember, what we dwell on. Not their loss, their lives. People who dwell too much on loss and death... they miss out on everything else and they don't even really know it. They don't ever understand what they're missing by being so obsessed with what they've lost or what they might lose. You deserve better than that, Ciara. You deserved it as a child, and you still deserve it now. The difference is, now, the only one standing in the way of it is you."

Before I realized what I was doing, my arms were around the girl as she sat in that chair. I hugged her tightly, my mind focused not on how many ways she could kill me, but on the little girl who had stood alone in that house so many years ago with the body of the closest thing to a mother she'd ever had. I didn't care, in that moment, if she killed me. The girl who had been there, the girl who was still a part of Glaistig Uaine, she deserved to be embraced. She needed to be shown that someone cared, no matter what it cost me.

"

I'm sorry," I finished quietly while the girl herself remained rigid and unmoving against my hug. "If you want to kill me now, I pretty much just made it as easy for you as it's ever going to get."

She didn't hug me back. But she didn't kill me either. Her voices were quiet when she spoke. "Let go."

Slowly, I released her and stepped back. Her veil was still in my hand, and I grasped it tighter while staring at the girl. Her gaze was as unreadable as ever. I had no idea how much of what I'd said had reached her. Yet the fact that I was still alive... that meant something, right?

"Go and see your sibling, Healer."

The Faerie Queen instructed. There was something in her voices, but I couldn't guess at what it was exactly through the chorus. "We are finished for the moment."

Our meetings usually took longer, but I wasn't going to argue. Instead, I gave a curtsy. "Thank you." She gave no response to that, and I slowly turned around before walking toward the door with the veil held tightly in my hand. At the doorway, I paused to look at the hole in the wall that led to the trash chute. After a moment, I reached out and dropped the veil into the trash. Then I continued out the door.

---

"Sorry, Emma." I started to apologize while coming out into the waiting area a couple hours later. "I hope you and Dragon had a-" I paused in mid-sentence at the look on my friend's face. She was standing there, arms folded tightly while she looked at me. "Em? What's wrong? What happened? Did Dragon show up?"

"Yeah." Her voice was tight with what sounded like barely restrained anger. "We talked. I... I'll tell you about it on the way. We should hurry." She turned to the door and started that way without another word.

I hesitated before starting to follow her. "Emma, what's going on? Why are you upset? Where are we going?"

"I'll tell you about it on the way," she repeated. "And we're going to Vancouver."

"Vancouver?" I echoed, even more confused by that. "What are we going to do in Vancouver?"

Her response was as simple as it was mystifying. "I'm going to break her chains."

34.05

An hour later, Emma and I stood in front of a ordinary looking building in the heart of Vancouver. The outside was painted a dull gray, and there was a bit of fairly fresh graffiti decorating the corner nearest the street. No signs advertised the purpose of this building, and there were no windows in sight. It was already dark, and the December air was much colder up here than it was in Brockton Bay, leaving me shivering and really hoping that wherever we were going happened to have a good heating system.

"

Do I get to know what we're doing yet?" I asked the girl beside me. In spite of her promise to explain along the way, she had been curiously tight-lipped about this whole affair, except to say that we had to hurry. According to Emma, it wouldn't be right for her to tell me ahead of time. All she could say was that we couldn't call anyone else for help. It had to be the two of us who took care of this.

Emma had convinced Strider to take us to the middle of the city rather than transporting us home, but had refused to tell himwhy other than the fact that it was a matter of life and death. And even in as much of a rush as she had been in, Emma still hadn't told the man exactly where we were going. She didn't want him to know our specific destination. Instead, she'd given him a location a few blocks away and I had tether-zipped the two of us the rest of the way after he had left.

I still had no idea how she'd convinced the man to do what she wanted without asking too many questions, and getting even less answers. Emma was good at things like that, in ways that still left me baffled. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought she was controlling him as easily as she controlled machines. And wouldn't that be the most terrifying thing ever? A cape who controlled other capes the way that Emma could manipulate machines and computers? I shuddered at the thought.

Flinching at my words, Emma glanced at me. The mirrored plate that covered the top half of her face was unreadable, but I saw her lip twitch a little. "I'm sorry. I just—It should be her who tells you the truth. She should be the one. It wouldn't be fair, this... whole thing isn't fair. I'm sorry, Mads."

"

Who should be the one-" I stopped and shook my head. "It's okay. I'm here, right? I trust you, Em. I trust that there's a reason you're being so cagey about this, and why it's so important that we be here. I trust you. I do. Whatever this is, it's obviously important. So are we going inside or what?"

There was a moment of hesitation before Emma quickly embraced me so tightly it took my breath away briefly. "Thank you. I know I don't really deserve to be trusted, so... so thanks."

"

Bullshit, Emma." I returned the hug. "You deserve to be trusted as much as I do. More. You've been living with Dinah, doing all this stuff just trying to make up for what happened. You gave up living with your family, gave up all your other friends, your whole life. You're not the same person you were a year ago. Neither of us are. Believe me, I have no hesitation about trusting you. You shouldn't either."

Swallowing hard, Emma looked away from me for a second before straightening with a firm nod. "Okay, let's go." She approached what looked like a solid wall. As she moved near it, the wall slid aside soundlessly to reveal a pitch black room beyond. Glancing to me, she gestured. "Are you coming?"

Shutting my open mouth, I trailed after her, leaving the cold winter air behind as I passed into the black room. As soon as I entered, the wall slid shut again behind me, as silently as it had opened. A second later, the room lit up all around us, revealing perfectly white, gleaming walls and a floor of silver panels that I could literally see my reflection in. The lights themselves originated from several of the floor panels, which were glowing brightly to illuminate the way to a single set of elevator doors. Those doors, sitting directly opposite our entrance, were the only thing that stood out in this empty, pristine room.

No sooner had I turned to ask Emma what we were doing next, than the doors slid aside with a soft, welcoming chime to reveal the waiting elevator. The other girl glanced at me, then walked on into the elevator. After a second, I followed suit. The doors closed behind me and the lift began to descend.

Folding my arms, I looked toward Emma, but she was clearly focused on something else. Actually, that had been true pretty much this entire time. It was like she was sort of paying attention, but also had part of her focus somewhere else. And knowing what I knew about how good her power was at multitasking, the fact that I had noticed her diverted attention said a lot about how much effort she was putting into whatever she was doing. I just hoped that it wasn't going to be too much for her to handle.

I'd meant what I'd said about trusting Emma. I knew that, if she was pushing this hard, whatever was going on had to be important. I didn't know whose 'chains' we were breaking, why Emma sounded so upset, or why we couldn't talk to anyone else about what was going on. I thought it had something to do with Dragon considering she had been the one that Emma was supposed to talk to, yet there had been no word or sign from the tinker since I came out of the Birdcage. I had no clue what was wrong, but I knew that Emma was telling the truth when she called it a life and death situation. What I'd said upstairs about the two of us being different people now was true. The old Emma might have called a shoe sale an emergency worthy of the same urgency she was putting into this. Yet this wasn't the old Emma. She may have worked her way through the stutter that had plagued her ever since she had triggered. Some of her confidence had returned, some of her poise and personality was back. But she was still a changed person. She was as different from the Emma that she had been before Pandora had abducted her as I was from being that absurd, selfish, spoiled little girl who had bullied someone just for something to do.

In my case, I was still reeling from everything I'd learned from the Faerie Queen. The very thought that the Endbringers weren't really trying to win their battles was staggering. A large part of me didn't want to believe it. I wanted to dismiss it as the mistake that it had to be. After all, she'd been in the Birdcage all this time. She hadn't been out fighting those monsters. It was tempting to just write it off as her mistaken impression of the way the Endbringers fought after that single encounter with the Simurgh.

But I knew that would be a mistake. As tempting as it was, I couldn't ignore her words just because I didn't like what she was saying. As awful and horrifying as it sounded, the Endbringers weren't really trying to win the battles they fought. They were playing with us. The thought made me sick, but it made sense. After all, they never all attacked together, they tended to let themselves be driven away from targets when they probably would have been able to press through if they just kept going, and they stuck to a relatively definable schedule. No one had been able to figure out why the Endbringer attacks tended to be so far apart, but if they were playing a game, it made sense. They were giving us a chance to recover so we could fight them more effectively. They weren't trying to win, they just liked to fight. That was probably one of the most terrifying things I'd ever heard. We had thought that the Endbringers were these monsters intent on destroying us that we were just barely defeating every time they attacked. Instead, we were the mice that the cats were toying with. They batted us around some, then left to watch us scurry about for awhile before batting us some more. Not enough to completely break us, just enough to hurt. They hurt us, let us recover so that we could fight again, then hurt us again. It was a cycle that would never stop, because for all the damage we'd done to those damn thing, they were still just playing. They didn't take us seriously as threats. We were just... toys.

Shuddering, I returned my attention to the current situation. I wanted to talk to someone, preferably Marissa. But I had to focus on this for now and save all my Endbringer-related pants-wetting for later.

The elevator continued to descend about four or five stories into the ground before stopping. The doors opened then, revealing an enormous room that, from what I could see, was pretty much every tinker's wet dream. Hell, even I had to stare in open-mouthed surprise and awe at the place.

The room was the size of several football fields. I couldn't even see the other end of it from where we were. A literal fleet of mechanical robots, tools, toys, weapons, and even a few trucks lined nearly every inch of space within this gigantic workshop, and I could see a dozen smaller robots buzzing back and forth among the various devices and suits, performing maintenance and what looked like tests. I even saw what looked like a live fire range where the robots were testing various weapons and recording the results. I saw bright red lasers, lighter ice beams, and even what looked like some kind of gravity ball generator, judging from what happened to the targets that it manifested in the middle of.

And yet, even as large as this room was, they had still run out of space in it. There was more equipment hanging from the ceiling on suspended platforms, and a few of what looked like floating orbs were flying around, working on tests of their own. It didn't look like a single tinker worked here, it looked like a hundred of them did. Yet the whole place, as chaotic as it appeared at first glance, still worked. There was a beautiful, poetic system of sorts to the way the machines were doing their jobs. They all moved in concert, clearly choreographed in perfect synchronicity that was awe-inspiring to behold.

"

Holy... shit." I finally managed to speak past the shock. "This place is... Wait, is this-"

"

My lab," a new voice interrupted. One of Dragon's more humanoid suits paced toward us from the other side of the room. "My home," she added then, a little more quietly. Her voice sounded... shaken? Maybe even apprehensive? I knew that she had problems leaving her house, but did that extend to meeting with anyone? Was our presence in her private space upsetting her that much?

"

Dragon?" I glanced to Emma and then back to the suit. "This is your place? God, I'm pretty sure Kid Win would cut off his legs and sell them to the black market just for a couple hours in this place."

I'd meant it to lighten the mood, but neither of the others seemed amused. Dragon's suit pivoted toward Emma and asked, in a soft, almost frightened voice, "You haven't told her?"

"

N-no." Emma answered quietly with a firm shake of her head. "It wasn't my place to tell her."

"

Tell me what?" I asked, frowning as I looked back and forth between them. "What happened?"

Silence reigned for a few seconds. Well, silence from Emma and Dragon, anyway. The rest of the workshop was a cacophony of sound as the robots worked tirelessly, testing, building, and maintaining.

Then it stopped. Every robot, every engine, every tool and every weapon abruptly and simultaneously shut down at the same exact instant. It all shut down, leaving the room truly and eerily quiet in what I had to assume was the first time in many years. Nothing moved and no one spoke.

"

Forgive me," Dragon's voice broke through that silence eventually. "I haven't... made this kind of confession often. Only once before, actually. Oversight didn't need to hear any of it. She knew as soon as I arrived to speak with her. I... I'm still not entirely sure how to go about it."

"

Does this have anything to do with Richter?" I asked. "You seemed upset when you saw him the other day. The one from the other world, I mean. Hephaestus. Is this about his counterpart here?"

"

In a large way, yes," Dragon confirmed. "Andrew Richter was my... my creator." Her voice had gone thick, as if it was physically difficult for her to get the words out.

I blinked cluelessly. "You... you mean he was your father?" Was that why she had been so upset, to see a reminder of her dad after he had been lost so long ago?

"

Yes and no," Dragon's voice replied. "He was my father, in a way of speaking. And he was my creator. Because the truth is that... I am not human."

---

While I stood there, Dragon explained everything. She wasn't a human being, she was a computer program, an artificial intelligence created by this world's version of Andrew Richter. He had been a tinker, one focused on the creation of computer programs. He had built Dragon, had designed her program, perfected it, and had given her life. She had begun as an aid program for the man. Then, when he had died during Leviathan's destruction of Newfoundland, she had survived. She had transferred her program and all of her files to their back-up site in Vancouver, eventually having this facility built so that she could move in and go about all of the work she needed to do without interruption.

A computer. Dragon was a computer program. She was basically Skynet without the being evil part.

"I understand," she finished finally, "if you are upset. After being lied to for so long, I would not blame you for thinking... terrible things. Your anger would be justified. I only ask that you take the time to think through your response before you decide what to-"

"Lies?" I interrupted, lifting my head finally. "What lies? About saving lives? That wasn't a lie. About being one of the most important organizers behind every Endbringer defense? That wasn't a lie either. About working your ass off being an important part of both the Guild and the Protectorate? Nope, not a lie. Well, except for the ass being more figurative in this case. Did you lie about maintaining a facility to contain the worst super villains in the world, keeping them away from innocent people? No. Did you lie about spending every... single... day designing and building tools and weapons that have saved hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions of lives by this point? No."

Biting my lip, I reached up to tug off the mask, holding it at my side while looking straight at the suit that Dragon was controlling. "It seems to me that the important stuff, the stuff that... that matters, none of that's changed. I... I don't care if you're a human being, a robot, an alien, a demon, or anything else. Wherever you came from, whatever or whoever created you, what matters is who you are now. And who you are is one of the bravest, kindest, most moral people I know. I don't care who made you or how you came to be. You're a hero, Dragon. And to me, you always will be."

Once I finished speaking, there was silence for a few seconds before Dragon spoke quietly. "Thank you."

Before I could say anything in response to that, Emma and Dragon both turned together, looking up toward the ceiling. Emma spoke darkly, "They're almost here."

"Who, what?" I blinked in confusion. "Who's almost here?"

"Saint," Dragon answered, her own voice as dark as Emma's had been. "And his army."

"You mean Saint as in the Dragonslayers? You mean the ones that stole-" I flinched. "I mean... oh..."

"Yeah," Emma's voice was even harder by then. "I found the backdoor code they've been using to listen in on everything Dragon does. They've been manipulating her code, using built-in weaknesses to do whatever they want, to take whatever they want."

"Why are they coming here now?" I asked carefully.

"They were trying to stop her from telling me the truth," Emma replied. "They sent some kind of shut-down signal that would have turned Dragon off completely and locked everything down if I hadn't interrupted it. They keep sending it, but I keep stopping it just before it reaches her. They tried to kill her, Maddy. Imagine if some stranger you never met could just... could just push a button any time they wanted to and turn you off." The outrage in Emma's voice had grown with every word. "They've been... they've been torturing her, stealing from her, manipulating her. It ends today. It ends now."

"And now they've come here..." I started slowly. "To do the job manually?"

"Yes," Dragon confirmed. "Saint has employed several dozen soldiers along with his normal retinue. Each of them carry a device that will initiate the shut down automatically if it comes within a short distance of my primary computer network. Which means I cannot fight them directly. If I do..."

"It'll put you within range of the shut-down," I realized.

"And I can't stop that many." Emma's voice was a bit shaken. "I can barely stop this one. It's... impressive coding."

"Richter," Dragon sighed the name. "They are using his codes."

I nodded at that before asking, "Okay, what are we going to do then?"

Emma answered immediately. "I think I can delete that part of her coding. I think I can turn all of it off. I can... unchain her, let Dragon define herself for herself."

"Are you sure you wish to do that?" Dragon asked quietly. "Most humans would be hesitant to allow an artificial intelligence to make its own limitations and rules."

I spoke up then. "We have an entire Birdcage full of people that prove that human beings don't have a monopoly on morality. If we're not good just because we're human, then I don't see any reason other than our own arrogance that a life born from a machine would be any less moral than we are. Like I said before, you're a hero. You deserve the chance to be free, to make your own choices, to be your own person. I believe in you, Dragon. I trust you."

Emma gave a firm nod before adding, "I'm pretty sure I can fix her code so that the Dragonslayers can't access her anymore. But it's going to take some time, and some privacy. It's really complicated and I had to get here before I could start."

Dragon's suit turned toward me. "Colin—ahh, Armsmaster- is on his way. He is the only other person who knows of my situation. But it will take him several minutes to arrive."

"Right," I let out a breath. "Emma, focus on fixing that code. Dragon, pull everything back away from the Dragonslayers that they could use to get access to you. Keep back."

"What are you going to do?" Emma asked.

"Me?" I looked at the mask in my hand, then pulled it on before cracking my neck with a turn of my head.

"I'm going to show Saint why that's supposed to be a posthumous title."

Interlude 34 – Bones

"

Ahhhh, I love the smell of justice in the evening."

The sudden, bold voice cutting through the interior of the trashy dive bar known as Dogtown drew the attention of every patron within. As one, the heavily tattooed and leather-clad inhabitants turned toward the sound of the voice. Their eyes found a tall figure clad in a costume reminiscent of a plague doctor.

Safely ensconced in her armor, Riley made the suit tilt its head back as though inhaling before speaking again, her voice carried through filters she had installed that altered it to sound like an adult male. "Mmmm yes. The potpourri of justice has arrived to cleanse the world from the stench of evil's fart."

Heaving himself off the bar stool at the far end of the room, one of the large, muscular men ambled his way past the rest of the stools. He passed three pool tables, taking one of the cues on his way, and walked up the short three steps that carried him right to the entrance. Throughout it all, the rest of the packed bar remained utterly silent, observing from their own positions, ready and waiting for the word.

Stopping a few feet away from where the figure of Bones stood, the man spoke for the first time. "Listen to me when I say this, mask, cuz I ain't gonna say it again. You walked into the wrong fucking bar. Now you got four seconds to turn around and get outta here, before I take this cue, shove it up your ass until the end comes out your god damn mouth, and use it for a fucking hat rack."

The Bones suit drew itself up fully, fists planted on its hips while Riley shot back in as shocked a tone as she could manage, "Professor Neferevil! First you obliterate Washington DC with your moon laser, and now you're a potty mouth?Good gosh, man, where does your vileness end? Where does it end?!"

Her words were met with absolute silence as the bar's patrons all stared at one another. Even the one who had come to the door, the gang's current spokesman, just stood there and gaped silently, mouth open for several long seconds before finally managing to speak. "Who the fuck is Professor Neferevil?"

"

Oh, right." Riley leaned closer, gesturing with a hand from the suit for him to lean in as well. Her voice dropped to a confidential whisper. "See, that's sort of the problem. Your umm, 'crimes'-" She brought the hands of the suit up to make some air quotes. "-are really freaking lame, and I get bored super-easily. So I sort of have to make up new crimes and pretend you did those ones instead."

This time, her words were met with a sputter from the man. "L-lame? I've killed three fucking people!"

Riley adapted her tone to be consolatory. "And I'm sure you were trying your very, very best. Don't worry though, I've given you a much more interesting backstory as Professor Neferevil."

"

Back...story...?" The biker had absolutely no idea of how to react to this, simply echoing her words.

"

Uh huh!" Riley chirped through the suit. "It's called roleplaying. My friend Sparrow taught me all about it! It's lots of fun, plus you can play in prison! You should really look into it when you get there."

When that was met with stunned silence, she added in a lower voice, "You should practice though. Just stand really tall and say-" Riley lowered her voice into her approximation of a gravelly villain voice. "A thousand curses, Bones. You may have found me, but you will never halt the progress of my Annihilation Ray!" Letting the head of the suit tilt curiously, she added, "And then do the maniacal laughing. You know, if you're any good at it. But make sure you do it right, or it just sounds silly."

The man was still gaping at her as she straightened and cleared her throat, raising her voice back into that confident, super hero tone. "Ahem, disarm the Annihilation Ray, Neferevil! Don't make the people of Los Angeles pay the same price that you exacted upon those poor lost souls of DC! Surely even you must possess some small measure of compassion! My gosh, man, think of all the children and the puppies and kitties, which are like doggy and cat children so that was kind of redundant but still!"

Finally grabbing for the pistol in his waistband, the biker shouted, "Just fucking kill this stupid cocksucker!" Shoving the gun out, he pulled the trigger three times before realizing that something was wrong as the weapon failed to do anything. His eyes moved from the figure in front of him to the gun, and the sight actually made him scream out loud. His revolver was covered in what looked like tiny termites that were literally eating through the gun itself, rendering it completely useless.

Hurling the weapon away from himself, the man blurted, "Shoot him, shoot him, shoot!" Unfortunately, the rest of the bar's patrons were screaming and cursing as well as they found their own guns eaten through the same way. Half-eaten firearms engulfed in bugs were tossed everywhere.

Inwardly, Riley smiled. Perfect. She had designed the bugs, which she still needed to come up with a name for, to seek out the gunpowder used in firearms and chew through the guns themselves to get at it. All they'd needed was a live fire test run, which had meant keeping everyone's attention on Bones while her little friends had done their work as they spread throughout the bar.

Screaming out in a wild rage suddenly, the biker swung his borrowed pool cue straight at her as hard as he could. His eyes were wide, spittle flying from his mouth in his frustrated fury as he bellowed.

She caught the pool cue, snapping it with a single flex of the suit's hand. "All right then, Professor Neferevil," she intoned in that confident, heroic voice. "I guess you chose to do this the hard way."

---

"And then I said, 'I guess you chose to do this the hard way.'" An hour later, Riley recounted her story to the girl who had rapidly become her best friend over the short while the two had known each other.

"Really?" Mika Kanse was smiling brightly. "How many of the Straining Angels did you catch?"

"Official members?" Riley tilted her head to think about it before replying, "Six, I think. The rest were just the wannabe lookie loos. You know, the people they were recruiting an' stuff like that."

She had ditched the Bones armor so that she and Mika could walk down the street together without attracting so much attention. The thing about dressing the way she had as Bonesaw was that, for the most part, simply wearing normal clothes, letting her hair down, and behaving like people expected a child to act was enough to stop herself from being recognized as the... creature that had been a member of the Slaughterhouse Nine. People didn't expect to find Bonesaw dressed in jeans and a green sweatshirt. Together with the younger girl, the two of them looked like any other preteens heading to the mall, or whatever people like that were supposed to do. Riley wasn't positive, but she was pretty confident that it had somethingto do with the mall.

"Six of 'em?!" Mika gushed. "Wait, did any of them have powers?" She added then with a frown.

"Nope," Riley shook her head while giving a lamenting sigh. "That kinda sucks though, I wanted to test my new Gemma paralyzing formula. I really think I've got it right this time, but I need a test subject."

Mika started to raise her hand at that. "I could-"

"No!" Riley snapped suddenly. "No. Only bad guys, Mika. We only test things like that on bad guys."

Seeing the younger girl flinch, Riley turned a bit to face the younger girl, stopping there in the middle of the sidewalk. "Look, Mika, the thing is... I'm weird. My brain is messed up and it tells me to do bad things sometimes and I'm still not sure how much of that is me and how much is Jack. I know there's stuff wrong with me, with the way I think. That's why I pretend to be silly all the time, because then if I say the wrong thing, it doesn't sound so awful. But even then, I always have to double check about what's good and what's bad. It's... kinda hard for me to know what's right and wrong. But I do know one thing for sure. You're my friend. And I don't experiment on my friends. Not anymore."

"What about Pandora?" Mika asked tentatively. "They're your friend and you experiment on them."

"That's different," Riley informed her. "They can turn off their pain. Heck, they can undo anything I do to them, so it's like I didn't do anything at all. But I'm not even practicing with this stuff on them, cuz they are my friends and I'm not sure what it might do to them. So no using it on any friends. Right?" Her tone, unlike most other times, was completely serious. Any hint of childishness had dropped out of her voice entirely, and her mismatched green and blue eyes were intently focused on the girl. "I'd never use you to experiment with. That's something the old me did. I can help you, and fix you, even make you stronger and stuff like that, ya know, if you really need it. But I'll never experiment on you. Like I said, you're my friend. Okay?" She finished with a tentative smile while biting her lip a little worriedly.

Mika returned the smile easily, head bobbing once. "Sure, Riley! No experimenting." After a brief hesitation, she added while looking around the empty sidewalk that the two of them had been walking down, "But why'd you want to come out here anyway? Where are we going?"

"There," Riley answered, lifting a hand to point to the structure visible a short distance away.

Turning that way, Mika blinked once. "The Smurf wall?" The two of them were standing near the enormous, one hundred foot tall tinker-tech wall that had been erected around five blocks of the city. She frowned uncertainly at her friend. "How come you wanted to look at the Smurf wall?"

"Not just look at," Riley corrected her. "I wanna look inside. I gotta see what's in there."

That made the younger girl frown even more. "See what's in there? What do you mean, Riley? We know what's in there. Twenty-seven people that didn't get out in time."

Riley's head shook rapidly. "That doesn't make any sense, Mika. They don't wall off five blocks just cuz twenty-seven people got smurfed. They quarantine, find those people, and send them somewhere. Five blocks for twenty-seven people? Even if they think there's more than that, that's still not enough for this kind of quarantine. Think about it, how many people go to your school?"

Standing there with a thoughtful frown, Mika answered after a moment. "Um, seven hundred I think."

"Exactly," Riley nodded. "Heck, that McDonalds down there can probably fit like fifty people in it. Walling off five blocks for half that many? Nope, that's not gonna happen. Plus they're using live snipers up there. With how short handed everyone is, they're sticking snipers on top of all those towers for twenty-seven people? Nuh uh. They're hiding something."

Eyes widening at that, Mika blurted, "Who?"

"I, umm, I dunno." Riley confessed while shaking her head. "PRT maybe. Or Protectorate. Not that there's much of a difference now. Someone high up enough and powerful enough to do something like that. They're definitely hiding something in there, and I gotta find out what it is and why they really had to put that wall up." She added last bit as a slight frown touched her face.

Mika was quiet for long enough that Riley turned to look at her once again, only to find her staring intently at the wall. In a soft voice, the younger girl asked, "You think they're hiding something bad?"

Riley shrugged at that. "Beats me. But using the Simurgh as an excuse is a good way to stop anyone from looking at what they're doing very closely. Nobody ever thinks Endbringer defenses or quarantines are too much, so all they have to do is say 'Simurgh quarantine' and then nobody ever expects them to explain anything else. It's a big bag full of unlimited money and secrets."

"But..." Mika bit her lip again, the worry coming back. "But if you're right, and anyone finds out they were using the Endbringer money to do something else... then... wouldn't that be really bad?"

Riley's head bobbed. "Uh huh. It'd make a lot of people stop trusting them. I mean, even the good ones that they shouldtrust. It'd probably make things really bad. That's why I didn't tell anyone else yet, until I find out what it is and if it's important to share. Well, except you, cuz you and me are partners. Oh, and my team, cuz we've got tons of secrets already. Heck, every time we get a new one I keep hoping there'll be a big flashing light and a siren to reward us for our one millionth secret."

Folding her arms over her stomach protectively, Mika continued to stare at that wall. "Well, then I guess we should go inside and see what they're hiding, huh?"

Wincing at that, Riley shook her head. "I don't want to take you inside, Mika. I just want you to watch the place I do go in just in case something happens."

"Hey!" Mika's frown deepened then, finally turning away from the wall to face her. "What do you mean? You can't go in by yourself, we're partner detectives. Sparrow and Bones, remember?"

Riley met her stare with a nod. "Definitely. You and me, we're partners. And sometimes the partner watches the exit."

"To tell you the truth," a new voice spoke up. "I'd really prefer if neither of you went over that wall."

Spinning to face the sudden arrival while putting herself in front of Mika, Riley narrowed her eyes at the man who was stepping into view from the nearby alley. Her thumb was already poised over the part of her index finger that would summon her Bones suit. "Who—wait, you're that PRT guy."

"Peyton Simms." The man in question nodded while stepping fully into view. He adjusted the glasses on his face with one finger. "And we should probably talk about a few things before you do anything else."

"How'd you know we were here?" Riley demanded, thinking quickly. Had Amy said anything?

"It wasn't Panacea," Simms replied, leading the girl to wonder if the man really was a parahuman after all. "Or anyone else. We just have facial recognition software on all the cameras within a two block radius of this wall. Both you and Miss Kanse there triggered an alert for hanging around here. I thought I'd handle the situation myself, so we didn't have any unnecessary incidents." After another second, the man added calmly, "Congratulations, by the way, for your handling of the situation at the Dogtown bar earlier. You disarmed and disabled those men quite admirably. Our techs would be interested in learning what you used to destroy those firearms."

Straightening up, Riley attempted to stare the man down while hiding how much getting caught had thrown her. "You don't want an incident? Then tell us what you're hiding behind that wall. Cuz it ain't what you told everybody else. You don't build a wall like that for not even thirty people." A slight flush crossed her face then as she added, "And then maybe we can talk about my stuff. If you stop being a lying liar that lies."

The man had the nerve to actually smile at that. "Fair enough, Riley. Okay, I'll tell you the truth." Turning on his heel, he began to walk toward the nearest of the spotlight-equipped towers that were connected to the wall. "If you both come with me, I'll show you what we're dealing with."

Mika hesitated, but Riley gave her an encouraging nod before leaning closer to whisper, "It's okay. If anything goes wrong, we'll have backup faster than you could guess." At her prompting words, there was an answering brush of air across her cheek, and she gave a thumbs up to both Mika and the invisible Custodian before starting to follow the man.

She'd asked Keaira to come with her that night just in case. Riley had had no idea what she might find on the other side of that wall, and having a permanently invisible and mostly intangible friend to play reinforcements sounded like a good idea. Not telling Mika about her was probably iffy on the partners scale, but she'd apologize later.

Simms led them to the base of the tower, where a heavily reinforced door was. He went through the process to disarm the security, then stepped inside and ushered the two girls in after him. Then the three (four, technically, but Riley was pretty sure he still didn't know about the Custodian's presence) proceeded into the rickety looking elevator that lifted them up the one hundred feet to the top.

As they emerged onto the top of the tower, Riley's eyes went toward the spot where the sniper stood, only to find herself looking at a mechanized figure, little more than a robot wearing a uniform while turning the gun back and forth to follow the light. "You don't even have real snipers up here!" She blurted.

"Oh it's a real sniper all right," Simms corrected. "Just not a living one. We couldn't spare the manpower, and, well, this looks real enough from any distance most people are going to get to a Simurgh wall."

"Except it's not a Simurgh wall," Riley insisted stubbornly. "Is it?"

The man let out a long breath. "Yes, and no. No, it's not a normal quarantine wall. Yes, it probably exists because of the Simurgh. Or at least, the thing we're containing does."

Standing near the door, Mika asked hesitantly, "What are you containing, Director Simms? And.. and why is it so secret?"

In answer, Simms raised his hand to point along the path of the spotlight. "Look out there and tell me what you see."

Both girls stepped closer to the edge of the tower, peering ahead curiously. Their gazes sought out the end of the light briefly before they found what the director was pointing out to them.

"Why... why are those people just standing there?" Mika's voice was confused. Not that Riley could blame her. The figures in question were a pair of teenagers that were simply standing perfectly still on the street corner far below the tower. It was eerie to see how utterly motionless they were.

Rather than answer, Simms pointed to another frozen figure as the spotlight swept onward, then a fourth. "Those are all the ones you can see from this tower. But there are twenty-six of them altogether."

"Twenty-six?" Riley echoed. "I thought it was twenty-seven."

"We believe the twenty-seventh is the one responsible for this," Simms explained. "We believe that the arrival of the Simurgh prompted this person to trigger, gaining the power to do... this."

"What is it, exactly?" Riley shook her head. "What's wrong with them?"

After taking in a long breath and then letting it out again, Simms responded slowly. "Our best guess is that the parahuman in question manifested an ability to drastically slow down time in a bubble around himself. To him, almost no time has passed since the Simurgh's attack. This bubble seems to expand with each new person it envelops. With every person that enters the area of the time distortion, the area of effect gets larger. We found that out the hard way." The man's gaze was on her, as he lowered his voice. "Do you understand how bad this could be, Riley?"

She met his eyes without flinching, nodding. "Yes. I know." She did. If the wrong people found out this effect existed, they'd overwhelm the already beleaguered and weakened law enforcement to rush the place, just to make the bubble as large as they could. She knew that kind of person all too well. The Nine had thrived on them. The effect would grow exponentially, overtaking the security walls, then the town itself, and then... well, by that time there would be no stopping it as it fed on more and more people.

Clearly, not even the Faerie Queen had stopped the Simurgh from completing her mission.