Chapter 14: Subtle Words
"How interesting," Alexandria replied after a moment, her mind already running over what she knew. The White Council and the Red Court appeared to be international polities. They seemed to be locked in a war that spanned across international boundaries as well, as indicated by the Colombian soldiers and the references to Archangel and Wales.
Winter seemed to be another polity, albeit one that stood neutral. Or close to neutral, since they still took umbrage to trespassers. Of course, the words of the Red Court hinted at willful ignoring.
At the same time, this war, if it even could be called a war, did not seem to affect the United States. Alexandria had seen versions of the United States at war, even modern total war. In all of those Chicago was much worse off, and the people more sullen, subdued. Ergo, with what limited knowledge she had, it seemed likely that the White Council and Red Court were in a shadow war.
"Elaborate," Alexandria said, but the tone of words left no doubt that it was a demand. Baines seemed to start, and look suddenly unbalanced as if he wasn't sure whether he should really be talking. Alexandria sympathized to an extent, the World War II maxim, "loose lips sink ships" came to mind. However, Alexandria didn't care that much about an organization's operational security when it stood in the face of information.
"Dresden is a member of the White Council," Baines stated, almost hesitantly. It conflicted sharply with his earlier, almost angry proclamation. Alexandria guessed that somehow, something about the war had interfered with his life in a significant way. That wasn't that unusual, wars always did that.
"He went to a party hosted by a countess or duchess of the Red Court here in Chicago, in his official capacity as White Council wizard…" Baines trailed off. His words seemed almost recited, as if repeating what somebody else had said, "The whole place was destroyed and the Red Court noble was slain, it was obviously Dresden."
"A small spark for such a conflagration," Alexandria said, tone without inflection. In truth, the whole statement was another probe. Baines nodded sharply and Alexandria inwardly narrowed her eyes, vindicated. This conflict was as she expected, bigger than just a regional war or simple skirmishes of convenience. His nod indicated that it could be likened to a conflagration, which meant there were likely pockets of violence around the globe if she extrapolated what she knew.
"The Red Court attacked before twenty-four hours were up after the incident, striking at our outposts. I heard-" he paused again. Alexandria waited for him to speak again on his own. It was obvious that he wished to speak, she just needed to give an ear to listen. If she pushed, especially when he knew intellectually that he really shouldn't be sharing, he would clam up. As it was, her read was correct and he continued.
"They say Dresden started the war on purpose, just to save his girlfriend."
Ah, love. Alexandria was briefly clutched by melancholy at the thought. She had wished once for fairy-tale love. Dreamed of it as a child even, mind gorged on the sappiness of Disney movies. She had grown out of such dreams when she fell sick, embittered by the cruel nature of the world. Once, in her youth, she dreamed as if she was invincible, and thereby wished to love.
Even when life was returned to her, there was no love until it was far too late. Early on, she was still bitter, determined to unveil her eyes from the darkness that lingered under the sunny exterior of the world. She threw everything into her work, and Cauldron approved, helping her reach ever-higher the more she ignored other facets of her life. She was consumed by the singular goal of improving the lot of humanity. For a long while, she even doubted that she could even feel love, and could generate new feelings. She ignored the one person that she maybe could have loved.
Now she was invincible against all...save for one. Black and white monochrome fingers flashed in her memory. She pushed the memory away quickly, her body unmoving. There was no outward movement or expression that gave away the phantoms of her only real trauma.
She was even more doubtful of how the war exactly started. The most obvious, of course, was a manner of timing. If the Red Court attacked within twenty-four hours that meant that they were prepared. It also meant that they likely did not just want the man who started the war as retribution. The cause of the war was a pretext then. Likely, the Red Court foresaw a need to strike and used the best excuse they could find. Perhaps the White Council was on the ascendency, and the Red Court sought to arrest that rise. Whatever it was, she would find out more.
"Lady… Alexandria?" Baines said. Alexandria turned her attention away from her internal thoughts and back to him. Almost no time had passed between his last words and her inner monologue. Alexandria immediately saw what he intended. He realized he was leaking information like a sieve, but he perceived an inability to deny answering her questions.
"May I be permitted to ask a question of your austereness?" A common technique, trying to turn the conversation back toward her. She decided to allow it because even though she was currently lacking knowledge, she did not wish to alienate her nominal ally. If she did not allow it, the dynamic between them would not change much, but he was liable to be more recalcitrant with his words.
She ignored how the term of address had quite a bit of sass, it even bordered on impudency, if she saw fit to interpret in that way.
"You can," Alexandria answered, "You are free to ask any question of me, as I have asked of you."
Baines' look shifted into one of satisfaction for a brief second. She wondered what question he had in mind. Then he stumbled a little, faltering. His foot caught on an upturned chunk of the concrete pathway. In the span of the moment between his beginning to fall, Alexandria thought.
She noted how his complexion had paled significantly. The shock of the last half-hour had been more significant to him than to her. Her form flickered, and she grasped his arm in a strong grip, hoisting him up to rest on her shoulder. The illusion around her flickered where it merged with his cloak, but stabilized a moment later. She spared a scant second to save that development, why did it destabilize when her hand went through it, but not when cloth and grass did?
Baines stiffened in her grip, muscles almost locking up. This close, she could almost hear the sudden rush of blood from his heart.
"Calm," she said, "I do not seek to harm you."
Her feet were forced to touch the ground since otherwise, Baines would have to float. He wasn't that much taller than her, after all.
"You are more feeble than I," she continued, seeking to reassure him, "I will bear you to your White Council."
He seemed to relax then. Alexandria helped carry him forward, supporting him with her body. She spared a moment to think about how easy it would be to just seize him and fly to wherever their destination was. A matter of a single heartbeat. Several of Baines's heartbeats, that was, since her own had been steady for years. Never quickening, never slowing. The same relentless beat. One last organ that still functioned. Alexandria sometimes used to wonder what would happen when all her organs finally became statuesque.
She couldn't just fly away. The thralls that stumbled after her made such a prospect more difficult than she would like. Just leaving them on the sidewalk near the park was irresponsible in the extreme. Her power of flight and acceleration meant that she could be anywhere in Chicago within a single second. The wreckage that would result from such a speed left much to be desired. Only a few times she had been forced to go her maximum speed, and at this time it was unneeded. That also was ignoring the fact that an ordinary human would be completely pulverized by just wind resistance.
No, she could not just fly the thralls where she wanted to go, not without leaving them alone in a city in an alternate reality which she did not yet know the differences.
"Ask your question," Alexandria told Baines. She took a very slight pleasure in the way his body stiffened for a moment at the sound of her voice. She allowed him to still lead the way because even with her support, he was the one that knew the way.
"Your eye," Baines nearly whispered, "How did you lose it?"
In a millisecond, Alexandria debated with herself whether to answer the question or not. It was not an uncommon question. The few that were able to notice the artificial eye almost always asked her. Others, with higher security clearance, who had seen the original footage, also sometimes asked. Usually, she was blithe, sometimes overly sharp. Here in a new world, without context? How should she frame it? It wasn't a necessarily dangerous question, in fact, it was almost fortuitous in a way.
"There was a creature," she began, letting the words stew for a moment. She already knew what she was going to say, had already formed the words and recited it in her own head a dozen times. It was a different story than she usually told, but it still pulled on her heartstrings in a different way, "The Siberian."
"It is invulnerable, its touch is annihilation," Alexandria explained. She carefully noted how Baines reacted. It was really just further cement for the idea that she was in another world. If, wonder of wonders, somebody hadn't heard of her, the story of the Siberian may have reached them.
"She slew Hero," Alexandria said, and despite the pain in her mind, the words were delivered in an almost casual matter, as if she was discussing the weather. Still no reaction from Baines beyond what she expected. There was no recognition, "devoured him."
She could see the question in Baines's eyes, who was Hero?
She shouldered on, "In my hubris, I thought my power was enough."
Upon speaking those words, Alexandria raised her free hand to her eye, touched it lightly. She could feel her tinker-tech prosthetic was gone. Destroyed by the decaying ability of the vampire back in Winter. She hadn't cared enough to note it at that time. It was not as if the artificial nerves had ever been able to attach to the remains of her retina and optic cord.
"It was not Echidna?" Baines asked, the words halting. There was fear there, fear of something else.
"No," Alexandria answered, "Echidna was different, but her damage was all the greater."
The two continued in silence, the thralls trailing behind.