Taylor stared down at her mother's flute. It had been one of the very few things that had been spared from her father's boxing away of her mother's things, one of the few mementoes that had helped her get through those first weeks after Anette's death, before Emma turned from her best friend to her worst enemy. And now it was… ruined. Bent and battered and caked in substances Taylor didn't want to think about.
Taylor had known this would happen. She'd known that if she brought something as personal and valuable to her as the flute to school, Emma would somehow get her hands on it and desecrate it. But the bullying had been going on for months, with no mercy, and she had needed something to help her get through the day. She'd hoped that she could make it, get away with bringing the flute to school for just one day without Emma somehow sneaking it out of her locker and ruining it, but it seemed that had been too much to hope for.
How could she? Taylor thought. What happened, why is Emma doingthis to me?
Suddenly, a thought flashed across her mind, and she froze.
Could… could that be it? she thought. The longer she held that idea in her mind, the more since it made.
And if I'm right… then Emma never betrayed me. I can get her back.
For the first time in months, Taylor felt the beautiful pain of hope. There was a chance that her torments might soon end. And more than that, there was actually a chance that she might be able to get back her best friend, her sister in all but blood.
I'll probably have to talk to Dad about this, she thought.
"Send them in, please."
Emily Piggot stared at the door at the other end of the conference room, and tried not to drum her fingers on the table nervously. Any report of a new cape in the Bay was bad enough, the place was like a pile of oil-soaked rags just waiting for a spark, but a human Master? That was only just short of the worst-case scenario, and she wasn't going to be unlucky enough to go up against two Nilbog-tier S-class threats in one lifetime, right?
The door opened, to reveal three figures. In the lead was a tall, rather skinny girl with long curly black hair. Behind her was an equally tall man, whose dark hair was slowly thinning out. Where the girl carried herself with what Emily read as a deep-seated fear, the father radiated a blend of fury and self-loathing.
Behind the two guests Miss Militia stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.
"Please, take a seat," Emily said. They complied and she continued. "I am Emily Piggot, Brockton Bay PRT director. Now, before you say anything, you should know that you are being recorded, it's part of our standard procedure when there is the possibility of Master or Stranger involvement. Now that said, you said you had information on a possible new Master in Brockton Bay?"
"Yes," the girl said, not meeting Emily's eyes. "I… used to have a friend, Emma Barnes. My dad and hers knew each other, she was my best friend growing up. And then… last year I went away to summer camp, and when I got back… she'd changed. Totally changed, it was like she was a different person. She… she mocked me, told me I was weak, and ever since school started she and Sophia have been spending their time tormenting me."
Emily froze. Sophia? she thought. Oh god, please let it not be...
Taylor was still talking. "They steal my work, pour juice on me, insult me, punch me..." she trailed off, shuddering. "That doesn't matter. The point is, ever since I came back from that camp, Emma has been acting totally differently from how she acted before. And there's this girl, Sophia Hess. I never met her before, but Emma's been sticking to her like glue ever since. So… that's it. I think Sophia Hess might be some kind of Master."
Emily closed her eyes for a moment, thinking quickly.
"This Sophia Hess," she said, "Can you give me a description?"
"She's a black girl," Taylor said. "My age, obviously. We all go to Winslow, she's on the track team there. Physically fit… I don't know what else to say about her."
"And can you provide any evidence about what you're saying?" Emily pressed, her heart sinking. "I'm sure you'll understand, we can't just take your word for it."
"That's what they always say," Taylor muttered. "That's part of why I think Sophia must be a master, actually," she continued at a more regular volume. "It's not just her and Emma, everyone seems to be in on it. The students, of course, but also the school staff go out of their way not to see anything Sophia or Emma does to me. I've reported them dozens of times, at first nothing was done about it and lately they've been labelling me a troublemaker and threatening to punish me for speaking up."
"As for evidence…" she said. "You could talk to Greg Veder. He's in some of the same classes as me, and… he might be the only person who's offered me any measure of support since I started at Winslow. He's too much of a coward to do anything on his own initiative, but if you ask him he should be able to corroborate my story. And then there's my student emails. I've got… I don't even know how many now. Dozens. They fill them up with hate mail: 'Go die in a fire,' 'Do the world a favor and kill yourself', that kind of thing. They should all still be there in the school servers. And maybe Mrs. Knott could testify as well. She knew at least some of what those three – ah, I should mention that there's kind of a third girl involved as well, her name's Madison Clements. I don't think she's the Master, though. As far as I can tell she only showed up after we all started at Winslow. The rest of the students are just hangers-on, those three are the ones that put in the work to torment me every day."
With an effort of will, Emily kept her expression neutral. "Very well. Mr. and Miss Hebert, could you please wait here? There are a number of steps Miss Militia and I will need to take before we can move forward with this."
Gallant looked up as the Director and Miss Militia stepped into the empty conference room where he had been waiting, next door to the one the Heberts were in.
"Gallant," she said as soon as she closed the door. "Your thoughts?"
"I don't think she was lying," he said. "I sensed anger and self-loathing from the father, pain and anger and some confusion from Taylor. All the emotions matched up with her telling the truth."
"That was my impression as well," said Miss Militia. "Obviously I don't think Sophia Hess is actually a Master, but I do think Miss Hebert believes what she was saying."
"Fuck," the director said. "So to sum up, it's entirely possible that one of our Wards has been participating in what sounds like a pretty severe bullying campaign for months. Her handler certainly hasn't reported it, so… goddamn it, it almost sounds like there is a Master at work here. Not Sophia, of course, but someone else. Maybe this 'Madison Clements'."
"And if Miss Hebert's recounting of the timeline is correct," Miss Militia began, "this started before Shadow Stalker was brought into the Wards, which might explain why none of us detected any incongruities. She'd have been under the influence of this hypothetical Master since before we met her, that would be our baseline for any personality analyses."
"And that might explain why she's so abrasive to the rest of the Wards," Gallant said. "Judging by Miss Hebert's story, this Master might have the power to induce hostility or anger. If Sophia's under his influence…"
The director raised her hand. "We can speculate on that later," she said. "Right now… first thing to do is see the Heberts home. Second thing is to see if there is any evidence regarding the bullying. Under the terms of Sophia's probation, we can investigate her phones or other possessions anytime we like, without needing a warrant, so let's start there. Miss Militia, you go back in and show the Heberts out of the building, please. After that, we can arrest Sophia and take a look at her phones. Both of them, of course. She probably wasn't stupid enough to use her Wards phone, but her civilian phone might be another matter. Even if she deletes anything incriminating, I bet Armsmaster can fish it out of memory. If we can find anything there, it might give us enough evidence to look into the rest of this whole fiasco. And then we can figure out whether Miss Hebert is right about there being a new Master in play, or if this is just Shadow Stalker having gone off the reservation and the people who were supposed to be responsible enabling her."
She sighed. "How did things get to the point where one of our Wards, several personnel, and the bulk of the students and staff of a school all being Mastered was the good option for what's going on?"
Sophia glanced up from her math homework as someone knocked on her bedroom door.
"Come in," she called. The door opened to reveal her mother, followed by Miss Militia and the Halbeard.
Sophia tensed. "What's going on?" she asked.
"I'd like to have a look at your phone, please," Armsmaster said.
"Seriously?" she replied, fishing her Wards phone out of its hidden compartment in her bedside table. "You came over here at like 8 at night to ask to look at my phone? Couldn't this wait until tomorrow?"
"No, I'm afraid not," Miss Militia said. There was a tension in her voice that Sophia didn't like, and when her eyes dropped to the flag-masked heroine's hands, she saw that Miss Militia's power had shifted into a taser. Sophia felt a trickle of fear down her arms, but ruthlessly stomped on it.
"Some disturbing allegations have been made," Miss Militia continued as Armsmaster fiddled with Sophia's Wards phone. "Allegations regarding unsuitable behavior by you at Winslow. Tell me, Sophia, do you know a Taylor Hebert?"
Oh shit, Sophia thought. "Taylor?" she said out loud. "Kind of. I mean, she's not really someone I know, but she kind of… I don't know, draws attention to herself? She's always making up crazy stories, turning somebody bumping into her in the hallway into three days of beatings. I know she's accused me of things a few times, and I wouldn't be surprised if she's told those stories about half the school."
Miss Militia's face is unreadable behind that bandanna.
"This is clean," Armsmaster said, handing her Wards phone back. "Now your personal phone, please."
"What?" she blurts out. "That's private!"
"Not to us," Armsmaster says, tone completely level. "As a probationary Ward, we are entitled to search your phone or anything else we feel the need to search, without a warrant or explanation. So unless you want to go to juvenile detention for violating the terms of your parole, hand over the phone."
Fuck, Sophia thought. They suspect, at least enough to know what they're looking for. And there's no way I hid my texts with Emma well enough to fool Armsmaster.
She flung herself sideways, planning to roll off her bed and go to shadow to drop through the floor. But before she even got off her bed, there were two spikes of pain in her back, and her body suddenly went rigid, electricity shooting through her as she spasmed. Then the current cut out, and she went limp across the bed.
"Alright," Armsmaster said, "Given that you just attempted escape, I believe that qualifies as sufficient cause for restraint." She felt cold metal tighten around her limp wrist, and fury began to well up inside her.
"Miss Hebert's master theory is looking increasingly probable," she heard Armsmaster say as he followed up the Tinkertech bracelet with a pair of mundane handcuffs.
"Miss Hess, if Miss Hebert is correct and you are not in control of your actions, then I apologize," the blue-armored hero continued. "Now where is… ah, there it is."
Sophia lay there, bewildered, as feeling returned to her limbs. What is Armsmaster talking about? I'm not Mastered, why would Hebert… oh hell.
Suddenly it was all clear. Hebert had gone to the Protectorate, spun some crazy story about her being Mastered, and somehow the Director had fallen for it, and sent Armsmaster and Miss Militia to bring her in. Hebert probably hadn't even known what was going on.
Of course, she's prey. She couldn't possibly win, not properly. The only way she was ever going to win was sheer dumb luck.
But sheer dumb luck was all she'd needed. Somehow, impossibly, against all nature, Hebert had won.