From the Ashes

by Mr Toes

Shortly after the Blip, a family from Missouri struggles to find a new balance amongst the chaos. While confronting their own demons, the Bartons are forced to face off against a curious individual with a strange agenda; one which may have implications for everyone on Earth.

40. Chapter 40: We're All Crooks Here

Chapter 40: We're All Crooks Here

Clint and Strange stared at each other for a long, unbroken moment, and the air thrummed with sudden tension. I searched the sorcerer's expression, trying to divine what lay behind that superior, enigmatic smile. Did he really know Clint was Ronin? How could he know? He could be bluffing, hoping to extract a confession — but that would mean that he at least suspected! Why did he even care? Had Ronin taken down one of his buddies during the Blip? That seemed unlikely, but it wasn't impossible…

"Strange, we don't have time for this," Clint said, in a low, urgent tone. "Seriously; we need—"

"—to make time for this," Strange said patiently. "Come now; we're all friends here, aren't we? After all, we did save the universe together."

"You saved the universe. I just wanted to see my family again."

"Ah," a hint of guilt flickered across Strange's face. "Regardless, I would like some answers."

A hollow laugh rang out across the room, and I looked over to see Vi disengage from her dozing fiance and stride towards us. Her gaze was fixed on Strange, hard and defiant, but I knew her well enough to recognise it for the facade it really was. Fear swirled behind that belligerence, and that was a problem; wherever Scared Vi went, Angry Vi wasn't far behind.

"Seriously, sweetie? Clint? Ronin?" she said scornfully, as she strode across the room to confront him face-to-face. "Don't be ridiculous!"

Strange's smile became a touch strained, "'Ridiculous'? One of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agents? Ex-Strike team Delta? Hardly. What would be ridiculous is spending any time pandering to the idea that Ronin could be someone like you."

"Someone like me?" Vi's eyes flashed dangerously. "And what, precisely, do you mean by that?"

"My sources say Ronin is a ghost; he strikes without warning, vanishes like smoke. Nobody knew who he was; in fact, I've seen claims that he didn't even exist, like some kind of criminal boogeyman, or that his 'career' was a collection of unrelated copycat killings. That is, of course, until today—" his lips pressed tightly together. "—when the whole world saw Ronin enter stage right by carving her way down the side of a skyscraper!"

Vi's lips quirked. "You have to admit, it was a pretty memorable entrance."

"That elaborate piece of street theatre only proves my point," Strange went on. "Do you know why you can't be Ronin? Because you're a show-woman! Even if you hadn't Blipped, there's simply no way somebody as…flamboyant as you could survive as a masked vigilante. Not for long."

"'Flamboyant'?" Vi's eyebrows shot up, as if she couldn't quite believe what she'd heard. "You're standing right here, wearing that, and you're calling me flamboyant?"

"Whoa; easy tiger," I said, and placed a calming hand on Vi's arm. She shivered at my touch, but some of the fight went out of her. I turned to the sorcerer. "What's this really about, Strange?"

Strange frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"Why're you so invested in Ronin? Doesn't a 'Master of the Mystic Arts' have better things to do than hunt down vigilantes?"

"Ordinarily? Yes, but most vigilantes are not these two," Strange said, and looked sharply at Vi. "After your warehouse was attacked, I'd assumed that you and Thera would have the good sense to lay low and let everything blow over! I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when, on returning from a very long trip, I'm greeted by Wong shoving a tablet under my nose showing 'Ronin' very publicly tearing through the St. Louis police force—"

"Hold on," I said quickly. "She only incapacitated them. She didn't kill—"

"—having eviscerated a hotel room of Blacknest mercenaries as a warm-up act!" Strange whipped out his phone and swiped irritably at the screen. "'Hotel of Horror: Malevolent Marauder Mutilates, Massacres Multiple Mercenaries'! Care to comment, Viola?"

"Well…it's a bit heavy on the alliteration," Vi said critically. "And there's nothing about the drubbing I gave Clint! That should at least get a mention, right?"

"'Drubbing'?" Clint snorted. "You and I remember St. Louis very differently."

"After a spanking like that, I'm amazed you can remember anything," she said archly. "Or sit down."

Strange glowered. "We had an agreement! You were supposed to remain inconspicuous, but now, thanks to your…exuberance, there's a lot of people in Kamar-Taj wondering if I've made the right call! My judgement's being called into question!"

"So you're upset because your ego's been bruised?"

The sorcerer took a deep breath, and when he spoke his tone was tightly controlled. "Viola, you need to listen to me very carefully. This is not about my ego; this is about your freedom. Believe it or not, there are more than a few individuals in my order who think the best course of action is to toss you into the Mirror Dimension and forget about you!"

"Hold up, Strange," Clint stepped forward, his expression calculating. "You still haven't told us why your buddies have it in for these two. I know they're annoying, but so what? We're all annoying! Christ, I'm sure Laura could spend all night telling you about my flaws, and you haven't come calling every time I've blown something up! What gives?"

Strange sighed. "Do you remember what I said the first time I came to your house? The world is on a knife edge, Clint. We cannot afford to have a pair of chaotic do-gooders tearing across the land like a damn whirlwind!"

"The world is always on a knife edge! That's why Fury formed the Avengers!" Clint retorted. "And you know what? There's always some cult or terrorists or invading aliens 'tearing across the land'! At least these two are tryin' to do something good!"

"Which I'm sure is of great consolation to those caught up in the chaos."

"Well, maybe some people need a bit of chaos in their lives. Right, hon?" Clint flashed a smile at me, and I rolled my eyes. "But now you've got me thinkin'; where were you guys when the Chitauri invaded New York? Or when Ultron tried to destroy the goddamn planet?"

"Actually, the Ancient One was—"

"And what about this whole thing I'm hearin' about with Wanda? An honest-to-goodness witch takes over a town in New Jersey and who's on the case? S.W.O.R.D.! Where's the wizards? Why aren't you trying to stuff her into a mirror dimension?"

Strange smiled, almost despite himself. "That sounds like a supremely terrible idea."

"Yeah, she probably would tear you an interdimensional asshole," Clint agreed. "But what is it about these two that has your buddies up in arms? What's the difference?"

"The difference is very simple." Strange's gaze flicked over to Vi. "Wanda and Ultron don't fall under our remit. Viola and Thera do. That's all."

"Why?" Clint asked. Vi's arm tensed under my fingertips.

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not? Some kind of ancient wizard code?"

"Nothing so grand," Strange said simply. "I simply made a promise, and unlike some people here, I keep them."

"So…where does this leave us?" I asked, and tried to pretend that I hadn't just heard Vi's faint sigh of relief. Later, she and I were going to have to have a little chat… "And why do you need to know the real identity of Ronin?"

"Because I would like to believe that there's a good reason for what happened in St. Louis," Strange said. "Suicidal overconfidence aside, I can only think of one possible reason why someone would claim to be the number one enemy of the entire criminal underworld."

"Oh yeah?" Vi said. "And what's that?"

"You're trying to protect the real Ronin, aren't you?" Strange said, watching her carefully. "In fact, if I had to guess, I say that's the basis of this so-called 'contract' that brought you here in the first place. Am I right?"

She stared at him impassively. "Even if you were right, you know I wouldn't tell you."

"So I hear," Strange said. "You know, I learned a new phrase today; 'Ad finem fidelis'. According to Wong, it means—"

"I know what it means," Vi said curtly. "But if you know that, you'll also know that I'm not about to break my vows for your convenience."

"My convenience? I am trying to help you!" Strange looked grave. "Do you really want to fight Kamar-Taj?"

"I don't want to, but I will."

"Jesus Christ! Nobody is fighting anyone!" Clint snapped suddenly, and even he looked surprised at his outburst. "Strange, if I admitted I was Ronin, would you call off your dogs?"

Strange gave him a long, shrewd look. "As I said before, they're not my dogs, but…yes, I'm sure I'll be able to smooth things over."

"And you'd leave 'em alone? For good?" Clint pressed. "No more threats?"

"Clint," Vi said urgently. "Don't do this. Please—"

Clint silenced her with a look, and when he finally spoke his voice was low and intense. "This is my call, Vi. You've done more than enough; more than I deserve, I reckon, and I'm not about to let you get hauled off to Wizard Jail 'cause of me."

"So you admit it, then?" Strange said. "That you're the real Ronin?"

"Only if you promise to stop harassin' them. There's better uses of your time, Strange."

"All I can promise you is that I'll keep things calm for now. Wong was very clear that he wanted me to 'fix this' without resorting to violence," Strange said, and gave Vi another severe look. "Even his patience has its limits, though. If this happens again—"

"Yeah, yeah," Vi rolled her eyes, and then frowned. "Where is he, incidentally? I saw him with you earlier, but…"

"He's with Dr. Keame. By now I would imagine they would have taken that large gentleman, um—"

"—Bill—" I supplied.

"—back to his family. Keame was very insistent that he be there for them," Strange said, and his gaze bored deep into Clint. "Considering your history, I would have assumed that you would want to resolve this matter before they return."

"Fine. One last question," Clint said. "What else would you do with a confession?"

"You mean…would I go public? No. What would be the point?" Strange shrugged. "Your little escapade has clearly convinced the world that Ronin is a woman, and any sightings of Clint Barton near her numerous atrocities can be easily attributed to your various failed attempts to apprehend her. I don't see any point in upsetting the apple cart, and besides…" He trailed off, and once again there was that faint flicker of guilt.

"Besides what?" Clint pressed.

"You've suffered enough. I set in motion a series of events that led to your entire family being murdered by Thanos. I had to; for us to win, we needed Ronin. Not Hawkeye, not Mockingbird," he paused, and gave me a brief glance. "That was Avenger Laura's callsign, if you're wondering."

"Mockingbird? That's got a nice ring to it," I said, and added, "But the Snap wasn't your fault, Strange. It was the only choice you had!"

He exhaled heavily. "That's what I tell myself, but the fact remains that even if it was the only choice I had, I was the one who made it. The Snap led to Ronin, Ronin murdered Simon, and Thera and Vi were ripped from their home to keep you safe. Maybe it isn't my fault, but surely I bear some responsibility for what's happened here."

Clint gave the sorcerer a look, appraising look, and then nodded and clapped him firmly on the shoulder. "Welcome to the conspiracy, buddy. You and the rest of Kamar-Taj."

"I'll be discreet, rest assured," Strange promised. "And it seems a bit grand to call it a 'conspiracy'..."

"What would you prefer? A 'clique'? A 'cabal'?" Vi laughed shortly. "It doesn't matter what you call it; in the end, we're all crooks here. You, me, Thera, Laura—"

"I'm not a crook!" I protested hotly, and she shook her head despairingly. "I'm not! I've never gotten so much as a parking ticket!"

"You're harbouring an internationally wanted vigilante killer, sweetie. That's a pretty serious crime," she pointed out. "If anyone finds out what you've done, you'll be banged up for life."

"Quite so," Strange agreed. "Which is why you have my word that nobody shall hear about this from me. In fact—" his gaze fell on Vi. "—I would much sooner that the legend of Ronin ends tonight. Understood?"

"No complaints here," said Vi. "All this leather is starting to chafe."

"Good. Because if this happens again, Kamar-Taj will be the least of your worries."

---

Strange's threat hung in the air, soft and deadly. Vi inclined her head, her eyes glittering warningly, but before she could reply there was a loud yawn from across the room. As one, we turned to see Thera stirring in his seat, rubbing at his eyes with a free hand as he stared around the room. When he saw us looking he greeted us with a bright, brave smile, but despite his best efforts there was simply no hiding his exhaustion. In fact, the last time I'd seen him this exhausted was back at the Blip Centre, and we all knew how that had ended. For his sake as much as mine, I just prayed that Strange could deliver…

"Goodness!" he said, his voice ringing with false cheer. "I must have drifted off there for a moment. Sorry about that."

Vi smiled fondly at her fiance. "It's okay, Sparky. Strange was just rubbing our faces in his superior deductive reasoning."

"Goddess, I must've been out longer than I thought," Thera muttered, and looked at the sorcerer. "Are you done yet?"

"I believe we've covered the salient points, yes," said Strange. "There just remains the matter of the message Fury sent me. Considering his reputation, it seemed…strangely imprecise."

"Yeah, he's been off his game recently," Clint said, and added darkly. "Like it ain't him at all."

"Be that as it may, he was clear that you urgently needed my help. I'm assuming he wasn't referring to that oversized robot bug that we just squashed, correct?"

"'We'? Seriously? I took a missile barrage and you—" Thera took a long, deep breath. "You know what? It doesn't matter. I need your help — or rather, Laura needs your help."

An eyebrow quirked. "Well, which is it?"

Thera's eyes flashed irritably. "I need your help to help Laura, Strange! She's—"

"Dying," I stepped forward. "I'm…dying."

"I beg your pardon?" Strange turned to me. "Dying? Why didn't you say something?"

"We tried!" I said frustratedly. "Hell, Clint told you we didn't have time for your damn Poirot impersonation, but you didn't listen!"

"Mmm. Point," Strange, at least, had the good sense to look momentarily embarrassed. "So how did this happen?"

"Okay…" I took a deep breath. "You'd better take a seat, Strange. This might take a little while…"

We all sat down around Keame's small, circular table, and Strange listened silently while I rattled through everything that'd happened between St. Louis and 'now'. He watched me carefully, seemingly archiving every word, but his expression remained completely inscrutable from start to finish. Was that a good thing? A bad thing? I couldn't tell. In some ways it was more reassuring; he had the bearing of a consummate professional, and his unflappable aura stood in stark contrast to Thera's emotionally-charged, stumbling proclamation of my impending demise. On the other hand, I was starting to feel like little more than a curio; a puzzle to be solved and then set aside. For all his faults, Thera at least cared about me as a person.

"...and then you showed up," I concluded, a little lamely. "So what do you think?"

Strange sat back, a hand going thoughtfully to his chin. "I think you should be dead, Laura. Or at the very least, in a persistent vegetative state. What Thera's accomplished here is really quite remarkable."

"I…" I felt a chill pass over me. "I get that."

"No, I'm not sure that you do. Across my career I've dealt with maybe twenty cases of confirmed SIS. Almost half of them died, and the rest had…decidedly poor outcomes," he said, and gave Thera a look of grudging respect. "I'll admit, your reputation is not entirely undeserved."

"That's great, Strange," Clint said tensely, "But can you help us or not? The clock's tickin', and if you can't then we need to find someone who can!"

"That depends entirely on the details," Strange replied. If he was offended by Clint's directness, he didn't show it. "I've heard the why, but now I need to know the how. Thera?"

"Okay…" Thera held a hand out towards the table, and I watched with amazement as a swarm of blue and gold motes poured from his palm and assembled into a small, rotating shape. It was imperfect at best, wobbling and warping as it spun, but at the same time it was clearly identifiable as—

"—this is Laura's brain, correct?" Strange said, and leaned in. "It's a very pretty image, but I'm not sure exactly what I'm meant to be looking at."

"Hold your horses, mate," Thera said wearily. "Inky? Overlay current activity."

"Confirmed." The hologram faded into translucency, and was overlaid with a cloud of bright white flecks. They swirled through the air in a mesmerising dance, like a cross between an anatomical textbook and a snowglobe, and I found myself helplessly drawn into the hypnotic display. If there was a pattern to be found, I couldn't find it; they were keeping me alive, somehow, but…how?

"So…this is goin' on inside Laura's head?" Clint said. "Right now?"

"That is correct."

"Fascinating," Strange said, and leaned in further. His expression was carefully neutral, but I could hear the wonder in his voice. "Absolutely fascinating."

Thera exchanged a brief glance with Vi, and suddenly both were staring intently at the sorcerer. "Oh?"

"I knew that the magic you used was different to the Mystic Arts, but I didn't realise how different. According to our teachings, something like this—" he waved his hand at the ever-changing mass of light. "—simply shouldn't be possible."

An eyebrow raised. "Why not?"

The sorcerer paused, as if marshalling his thoughts. "The spells we use are complex; works of art, even. Each and every one of them has been developed and refined over centuries by successive Masters with a single aim; to accomplish something truly remarkable. This is…something else entirely."

"It's not 'truly remarkable'?"

"No. It's not a spell."

I saw Vi's eyes widen in surprise, and a faint smile danced across Thera's lips. "Not bad, Strange. But if it's not a spell, then what is it?"

"It's hundreds of spells. Possibly thousands," Strange said. "I'm pretty sure that each of these lights are like…fragments; small packets of magic, doing a single job over and over again. Individually they're nothing special, but when they're working together, building on each other, well, then you've got something…" he broke off, as if something had just occurred to him. "Something alive."

"Living magic?" I frowned. "Is that a thing?"

"I…suppose it's theoretically possible," Strange conceded. "After all, the world is full of immensely complex systems arising from harmonious simplicity; bees, ants, even coral reefs, for that matter. Why not magic?"

I looked sharply between Thera and Vi. Thera was grinning now, his mirth evident despite his exhaustion. "Is he right?"

"He's not completely wrong," Thera said. "I mean, he's under-called the number of shards by eight orders of magnitude, but—"

Strange looked taken aback. "Eight? But that would mean that there's over a hundred billion—"

"Yes! Goddess, Strange; I'm not setting a bloody bone here!" Thera said irritably. "Every second, Inky's monitoring Laura's vital signs, filtering out harmful action potentials, maintaining autonomic functions, convincing the rest of her brain that nothing's wrong, predicting her movements to minimise latency…oh, and stopping her from having another seizure to end all seizures. Why do you think I'm so damn tired?"

"Yes, yes, I understand," Strange said briskly. "So how many…spell cycles are there, then? Every second?"

Thera swiped at the space above his arm, swiped again, and said, "About one and a half trillion."

"So Inky is literally casting faster than the speed of thought?"

"She has to. How else could it work?"

"True," Strange smiled crookedly. "You know, when all this is over I may have to put you in contact with a good friend of mine. I'm sure she'd love to see this in action."

"And if you help us now I'll be more than happy to give you and your 'good friend' a crash course in thaumic medicine. As much as you want," Thera said sincerely. "After I've gotten some sleep, of course."

"Of course, but you must be aware that I can't help with…this. No human could," Strange said. "I'd need a supercomputer just to keep up."

"I don't want you to do anything with this. I'm only showing you because I thought it'd be helpful for you to know how I was keeping Laura from keeling over," Thera said, and added, "If Inky detects you interfering with it, she'll put a neural lance between your eyes before you can so much as blink."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"One sec," Thera waved again, and the floating dissolved into a sheet of blue-gold static. When it finally resolved itself, I found myself staring at a long, slender tower rising out of the centre of the table. At first glance, it seemed curiously simple; its sides were perfectly smooth, and the only feature of any note was a pair of ethereal prongs extending from the very top. From time to time, however, lighting flashed deep inside, revealing an intricate filigree network that twisted and wrapped around itself in dizzying patterns. "Here we go! This is your stop, Strange."

"What is it?" Strange tilted his head, quizzically. "It looks like Barad-dûr."

"Um, okay?" Thera looked to Vi, who shook her head in apparent confusion. "Well, this is an Eeebie. It does a lot of things, but it's really a high-bandwidth thaumic transceiver. If it breaks, then Inky won't be able to keep control of all those little shards swarming around Laura's brain."

"Which I assume would be bad, correct?"

"It would be genuinely memorable," Thera said, and I felt another chill. "But on the bright side, it would be quick."

"So what can I do to help?" Strange said. "What went wrong?"

Thera coughed. "There may have been a…minor issue while I was assembling it—"

"Minor?" I looked at him incredulously. "You catapulted me straight down memory lane!"

"Better than catapulting you straight off the mortal coil, right?" Thera raised his eyebrows. "But yeah, I stuffed up and now the Eeebie is dying. I can't fix it unless Inky takes it offline, and…"

"...you're right back where you started. Quite the catch-22," Strange concluded. He stared at the Eeebie, long and hard. "So you think that if we repair this, it would solve the problem?"

"The short term one, sure. Brain damage? Not so much."

"We can worry about that later," the sorcerer said, and his fingers weaved through the air in a complex gesture. With a shower of sparks and orange flame, a series of intricately patterned rings burst into existence along his arms. "Now, let's see…"

"What're you thinkin', Strange?" Clint said. His voice rang with a mix of eagerness and anxiety, and my heart thrilled in my chest as I waited for Strange's response. Was this the lifeline we'd been waiting for? "Can you fix it?"

"Probably not, but it might be possible to produce a facsimile instead," he took another look at the Eeebie, and meticulously adjusted a flaming disc. "If I can, then we might be able to use that as a temporary replacement while he rebuilds the real one, and if we can do that—"

"But it's gonna work, right?"

Strange twisted another disc, which responded by immediately exploding in a shower of embers. He sighed and looked coolly at Clint. "One step at a time, please."

"It'll work, Clint," Thera said grimly. "We'll make it work."

"Unwarranted confidence aside, this will likely take several attempts at the very least. We'll need to trial it on something that isn't Laura," Strange scanned the room. "An apple would do the trick. Small, organic, easily replaceable…"

"I saw some in the foyer," Clint said, and leapt to his feet. "Want me to go get 'em?"

"No," Strange shook his head. "It'd be better for us to head downstairs than to have you run around pointlessly. Besides, if this is going to work we'll need somewhere without any disturbances, and you—" his gaze fell on Vi. "—are a disturbance."

"You wound me," she said, with a mocking little bow. "But just so you know, if you try anything funny—"

"I assure you, you have nothing to fear," Strange said, and added wryly. "Wong would tell you that I've been trying to be funny since we've met, and I haven't succeeded yet."

"Well, now would be a really bad time to develop a sense of humour," Vi took Thera's hand. "Are you going to be okay, Sparky? If you need time to sleep—"

Thera gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

"I always worry. You know that."

"I know, but for now I'd worry less about me and more about Keame, yeah?"

"Why would I be worrying about him—" Vi stopped, and pinned him with a suspicious glare. "Wait a second, Sparky; just what've you signed me up for?"

"Keame agreed to hand over the details of the kids in the Blip Centre if he got five minutes with Ronin. I told you about it over the phone, remember?"

"No, I don't remember! Because you also told me you were about to throw yourself at the amassed forces of Blacknest!" Vi snapped. "Do you have any idea how scared I was?"

"Yes, but—"

"And Keame's no fool, sweetie. If he spots an inconsistency, I could end up screwing this up for everyone!"

Clint nudged my foot, and when I caught his eye he inclined his head ever so slightly in Vi's direction. I nodded, and reached across the table to pat her reassuringly on a leather-gloved hand. It was pretty clear where this was coming from; while she might put on a front of self-assured invincibility, Vi was terrified of failure. No — not failure; of letting people down. It was why she'd lost her temper when Thera had burned out, why she'd cut loose at the Blip Centre, why she'd broken down at my house, and finally, why she'd tossed Pexley into some shadowy realm and then annihilated him when he came for us. What was the common theme? That people she cared about were either hurt or in danger. It was touching, in a way, but when combined with a heady mix of exhaustion, adrenaline, and a post-combat high…? I needed to head this one off at the pass, and quickly.

"You won't, Vi," I said, as calmly as I could.

"But I could!" she retorted, and her voice rang with frustration and worry. "And if I do—"

"You won't, because I'll be right there with you — and if I think you're about to say something that you shouldn't, I'll stamp on your foot. Hard," I said. "Deal?"

"But—" Vi hesitated, and a faint smile came to her lips. "How hard?"

"With these boots? I reckon I could break rocks," I said. "Look, I know it's risky, but think about why we're here! Think about the kids at the Blip Centre; Poppy, and Manny, and…and…"

"Amethyst?"

"Right! Think about Alvin! You promised me you'd find him, didn't you? This is our chance!" I said earnestly. "We've tried too hard and given up too damn much to go home now, Vi. You know that!"

Vi snorted derisively, but her smile became that little bit more genuine. "Alright, Laura; you've made your point. Save the oratory for the unwashed masses, will you?"

I winced. "Sorry."

"But tell me, what happens if Keame works it out? What happens then?"

"Well…" I bit my lip. "I guess I'll have to trust you to keep us safe."

"Do you really mean that?" Her gaze bored into mine, eyes as hard as amber. "Whatever it takes?"

The room became deathly still, and everyone around the table watched intently as I wrestled internally with my answer. It was obvious what Vi wanted to hear, but was I really willing to go that far? If it were Pexley, the answer would've been obvious; he was little more than a thug, willing to maim, torture, and kill for the right price…but Keame? Was I really okay with sanctioning the murder of an unarmed man?

The answer was yes. It had to be. No matter how much Keame might appear to regret his actions, Vi's nightmarish drawings had shown just what he was capable of. Even if Blacknest was gone, he was clearly willing to work with anyone and everyone to get what he wanted — and Vi had never said she'd drawn Blacknest knocking at our door. If there was the slightest chance he could put my family at risk…no. No way. Not in a million years.

I made my decision. "I mean it, Vi. Whatever it takes."

In all honesty, I wasn't sure what response I'd expected from the rest of the so-called 'crooks'. If anything, the most surprising thing was that nobody seemed surprised. Vi sat back silently, apparently satisfied with my response, and Clint nodded in grim approval. Of course, he had to understand, and probably did so better than anyone else here. Whether he was Hawkeye or Ronin, his entire career had consisted of a series of lethally pragmatic choices, one after the other. If Keame had to die so our family could live, then that was that. No tears, no remorse, and no regrets. No hesitation, either.

What I hadn't expected was silence from the other two. For his part, Strange just sat there, his expression as inscrutable as ever, and Thera was so engrossed in the space above his arm that I wasn't entirely sure he was still listening. Maybe it was for the best; the last thing we needed right now was a detour into the weeds of moral relativism, particularly if Wong could show up with Keame at any moment. In the end, how long would it really take for them to hand Bill over to Patti and her brood?

A chuckle intruded on my thoughts, and I saw Vi nudge Strange in a lighthearted, almost jovial manner. "Well, I guess we can add 'conspiracy to murder' to the list of crimes we're committing. What a rich, full day we're having, eh?"

"Quite," Strange pointedly moved an inch or two away on the sofa. "Vigilante actions aside, I believe that Thera and I need to get down to business. Preferably before he collapses outright."

"An' I'd better go and make sure the perimeter's secure. There might still be some Blacknest stragglers hangin' about," Clint said, and leaned in to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Sorry, hon, but if Keame comes back and finds me sittin' around a table with Ronin, he's gonna have some pretty pointed questions for all of us."

"Yeah, you'd better make yourself scarce," Vi waved her hand in idle dismissal. "Oh, and Sparky?"

Thera looked up. "Yeah?"

"You've got this," she said, with an encouraging smile. "I know you do."

---

There was nothing more to be said. Clint quickly hopped over the side of the sofa and vanished through the double doors, bow in hand and ready for action. Thera and Strange trailed behind, and as the doors swung shut I heard them conversing in low tones.

"So that's that, then," said my little inner voice. "It's all down to them."

I stared after them as the seconds crept torturously by. After everything we'd been through, everything we'd done to get to this point, the only thing I could do was…wait? That felt wrong, somehow, but try as I might I couldn't think of anything I could actually do. Like it or not, my fate now rest entirely in the injured, exhausted hands of Thera and Dr. Strange, who had made it pretty clear there was no guarantee of success.

In the silence, fear bubbled up from deep within.

"Hey," Vi touched me gently on the shoulder. "Hey. Are you okay?"

With an effort, I turned away from the door to face her. "I'm…I'm fine, Vi. Really."

An eyebrow went up. "C'mon, sweetie, you don't seriously expect me to buy that, do you? You're wound tighter than I am, and that's saying something."

"I…you're right." I sighed, and flopped back against the sofa. "Clint told me about the moment Nat told him they might be able to bring us back. She gave him hope, and that terrified him more than anything since the Snap. For the first time in five goddamn years, he had something that could be taken away."

Vi moved around the table to sit with me. "I know what that's like. It's rough."

"I told Clint that I'd be okay with dying if it meant we got the List, but…" I smiled wryly. "I got so caught up in the idea that this was what I was meant to do; y'know, what I was brought back for, that I was saying what I thought I should be saying. I think…I was trying to play the hero."

"I know what that's like, too. Believe me, you're not the first person to get caught up in a crusade," Vi said, and grinned. "Hell, you're not even the first person around this table."

"Hah," I snorted. "To tell you the truth, I was clinging to the idea that Strange would somehow just turn up and fix everything. You know, like a literal deus ex machina, in a cloak and terrible socks."

"Those socks are terrible, aren't they?" Vi chuckled. I smiled back, but could feel my eyes brimming with tears.

"I told myself that there was hope, that everything would be fine, but now he's actually here all I can think about is…what if it isn't? What if all my hopes get dashed? I don't want to die; I want to go home and see my kids! I—"

I stopped, too choked up to speak. Vi looked at me sympathetically, and leaned over to give me a surprisingly gentle hug. "It's going to be okay, Laura."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do," she said firmly. "This isn't the timeline where you die. This is the timeline where you get to go home and live out the rest of your life peacefully and happily, surrounded by everyone you love. I can feel it."

"Is that a wizard thing?" I asked.

"No, it's a faith thing," Vi sat back. "I have faith in Thera, and as much as I hate to say it I kinda have faith in Strange. I know his type; now we've got his attention, he's not going to back down until he's found a solution. His ego just won't let him."

"Well…" I wiped a hand across my eyes. "I hope you're right, Vi. I really do."

"I know I am!" Vi said earnestly. "I was not dragged backwards out of the afterlife and tossed into the middle of Missouri just to watch you die! And if I have? Well, you can better believe that I'm going to be having serious words with whoever's responsible for this little stunt."

I smiled wryly. "That sounds like something I'd like to see."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Vi said, and sat back. "I know it's hard to wait, Laura, but it's really all we can do. I'm telling you, they'll come through, so what we need to do is focus on what we need to do. Keame."

"Yeah, I know," I said, and did my best to focus on what lay ahead. "You got any idea of what you're going to say, or—"

Vi held up a hand, sharply motioning me into silence. I frowned in confusion, but a moment later I heard the door behind me click and creak open, slowly and quietly. As carefully as I dared, I turned in my seat to see Keame come stumbling through the door. He was moving slowly and uncertainly, as if in some kind of daze, and headed straight for his desk without the slightest acknowledgement of our presence.

"What's happened to him?" Vi murmured. "If I came back home and found Ronin sitting in my office, I think I'd probably react a little more than that. Or, y'know, at all."

"I'm not sure he's actually seen us," I murmured back. "But…I thought he and Wong were just taking Bill back to Patti! What's going on?"

"Well—"

"Wait a second," I breathed, and felt dread pool in the pit of my stomach. "Pexley said that he was going to pay Bill's family a visit! You don't think that he sent someone ahead, do you?"

"What I think is that those post-combat jitters are starting to get the better of you, sweetie," Vi said, not unkindly. "But you're right; something is off. I wonder what it is?"

I got to my feet. "Let's find out. Keame?"

There was no response. Keame stood at his desk, his hands trembling visibly as he stared at the husks and flaming wreckage, scattered far below. What was he feeling? Anger? Horror? Despair? To my surprise, I realised I simply didn't care; after everything he'd allowed to happen, a dose of karma was well overdue.

"Wow," Vi said quietly. "He really is away with the fairies, isn't he?"

"We don't have time for this," I said. Grimly, I strode across the room, took him by the shoulder, and gave him a good, firm shake. "Reginald!"

"What in the—" Keame came back to reality with a jerk, but as he whirled to confront me I saw a glimmer of surprise in his eyes. "Laura? You're…here?"

"Moreso than you, it seems," I said curtly.

"So it's over? Blacknest—"

"Routed. Or dead."

"And Pexley?" he asked, almost hopefully.

I glanced towards the small pile of dust that had once been the Blacknest commander. "...yeah. He's dead too."

Keame relaxed, just a little. "Thank goodness. I feared he would flee to seek vengeance later."

"Well, he won't. We saw to that," I said, and added. "Is Bill okay?"

"He will be, with time," he said. "I am…extremely grateful for the assistance of Mr. Wong; without his portal, I genuinely have no idea how I would have returned Bill to his family."

"And they're okay? How's Patti?"

Keame turned away, apparently unable to meet my gaze. "She was…incandescent; I had no idea she was even capable of such fury. She said — well, screamed — that I'd betrayed everything that Keame Industries claimed to stand for, and if I had a single scrap of honour remaining then I'd resign immediately and hand myself over to the authorities. Then she slapped me."

"Huh," To my mind, Keame deserved a whole lot more than a simple slap, but it was probably better if I kept that opinion to myself. "And then Wong brought you back here?"

"After he'd finished his cup of tea. Patti makes very good cups of tea," he said, and stared distantly out the window. "And in all honesty, I can see her point. If not for your serendipitous arrival, I doubt there would even be a refinery for my workers to return to."

"Actually…" I took a long step to one side and nodded meaningfully at Vi, still lounging on the sofa. "There's someone else I think you should be thanking. She did as much to protect your refinery as anyone."

"Who do you mean—" Keame's eyes went wide as he caught sight of Vi. His mouth moved soundlessly, once or twice, and he spluttered, "My…my goodness. Ronin?"

"In the flesh, sweetie," Vi gave him a bright, chilly smile, and Keame turned pale and backed away as she jumped up and advanced on us. "Oh, stop that! If I wanted you dead, I would've fricaseed you back in St. Louis! Besides, Sparky said you wanted to speak to me."

"Yes. Yes…I did. I just didn't really believe you would actually come. I thought you would want to stay as far away from here as possible."

"Oh, I do, but what choice do I have?" Vi laughed hollowly. "I have to hand it to you, Reggie; using the Missouri List as bait was a pretty canny move. It's almost canny enough for me to forget that you're using my childrens' futures as a way of drawing me out of the shadows. Almost."

"I assure you, I had no—"

"Save it; I don't care about your tenuous justifications," Vi waved him aside. "The only thing I care about is that you'll hold up your end of the bargain. I'm getting those names, by hook or by crook!"

"You'll have them," Keame said sincerely. "My family has always honoured its agreements and paid its debts. Even though I may have…fallen short of my ideals, I will not dishonour the Keame name any more than I already have."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"But where are my manners? Please, sit!" the refinery magnate said, and indicated the boardroom table with a sweeping hand. "I would suggest the sofa, but I feel that would be…inappropriate, given the circumstances."

Vi's lips quirked. "And you'd like to keep your distance, right?"

"Would it help?"

"Not at all."

"I didn't think so," Keame said, with a faint smile of his own. "In any case…shall we, Ronin?"

With a brief nod of acknowledgement, Keame brushed past me and headed back across the expansive office. Vi stared after him, her expression one of cautious uncertainty.

"He recovered quick, didn't he?" She said tensely. "Do you think he's up to something?"

"I always think he's up to something," I said. "I just don't know what, yet."

"Make sure you've got that boot on standby."

"Will do," I said, and gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "C'mon. Let's get this over with."

We joined Keame at the table, where he was staring into his steepled fingers with an intense, contemplative expression. He looked up at our approach, and I fancied I saw a momentary flicker of annoyance and disappointment in his eyes. It was subtle, and masterfully concealed, but it was there. I was sure of it.

"You're joining us, Laura?" he asked. "I had thought—"

"Vi asked me to chaperone," I said briskly, and sat down firmly in one of the surprisingly comfortable chairs. It was clear what he was trying to do, and I wanted him to know that I knew. "And as her friend, I want to be here to support her."

"Oh?" his eyebrows jumped. "You consider Ronin your friend?"

"No, I consider Vi my friend. I had no idea she was Ronin," I said, quite honestly. "I found that little tidbit out at the same time as everyone else, and believe me—" I looked sharply at Vi, who was looking sheepishly at her hands. "—we're going to be having a long, long talk about what she's done."

"I certainly hope so. Still, did you not suspect a thing?"

"Why would I? If Clint didn't realise who she was, what chance did I have?"

"True. However, the truth is out now, and yet here you are," Keame turned to face Vi. "I am very impressed, madam; you must be a truly special individual to inspire such blind loyalty."

"Uh-huh," Vi fixed him with an irritated glare. "Just so you know, flattery will get you nowhere."

"I assure you, I am being quite serious. Why else would Laura expose her family to the wrath of law enforcement and every thug, kingpin, and criminal family you have ever crossed?" His tone was even, but I could see the hint of a smile dancing at the corner of his lips. "I just pray that your continued association does not somehow place them in harm's way."

"Stop trying to get under her skin, Keame," I said. It took every bit of willpower I had left, but somehow I forced myself to be calm. "If all you want to do is twist the knife, then we're leaving."

"Without the List?" He asked, and from the glint in his eye he knew he had me. "There is no need to be so rash, Laura; I was merely expressing my concern for the wellbeing of you and your family. The potential risks—"

"—are really none of your concern," I said. "Of course I know the risks, Keame; I probably know them better than you, and I won't be lectured to by a man who turned a blind eye while his friend kidnapped children and tortured people half to death!"

"Perhaps you are right," Keame conceded, after a brief pause. "I am so used to others turning to me for assistance that I sometimes forget that my advice is not always needed — or indeed, wanted. Please accept my most sincere apologies."

Part of me, a very large part, wanted to tell him exactly where he could shove that apology of his, right alongside that veneer of infuriatingly false sincerity. What could I do, though? Until we got our hands on those promised names all I could do was sit here while he rattled my cage. It was absolutely infuriating, but I forced myself to smile even while I sat there and seethed. No was I going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me snap.

"You know what? Let's just move on," I said. "You told me that you wanted to get closure by meeting Ronin, right? Well, here she is, so…what now?"

"Truthfully, I've wondered this as well," said Keame. "After all, what does one say to the murderer of your child? What would you say to Thanos, had Thor not cut off his head?"

"I…don't know," I admitted. "Something hateful, probably."

"Indeed. But however satisfying that might be, I would rather spend this time learning about my son's killer," he said, and inclined his head towards Vi. "Suffice it to say, you are not what I expected."

"Oh?" Vi said warily. "And why's that?"

"Well…I expected you to be taller, for one," he said, "And to be honest? A man."

"I'm so sorry to disappoint you."

The smile broadened. "Disappointed? I fear you're quite mistaken, madam. I would have been disappointed if you had been just some common thug. I've had enough of those to last me a lifetime."

Vi smiled darkly, as if she was entertaining some dark notion. "Yeah. That's entirely possible."

"You intrigue me. Any fool can pick up a sword and lay about themselves, but you…you challenged the amassed might of the criminal underworld for years and not only survived, but became a near-mythical figure!" said Keame. "While I can never agree with your actions, I feel that it is important to understand them."

"And how'd you intend to do that?"

"I've given this quite some thought, and I believe I have the solution," he said. "It is a little known fact that every single employee of Keame Refineries is personally approved by the CEO. During my father's tenure it was little more than a rubber-stamping exercise, but I've taken a more…active interest in the matter."

"Hold on," I said. "You want to interview her?"

"Why not? I've always found it an excellent way of getting to know people, including those—" his eyes hardened. "—who aren't necessarily who they claim to be."

I froze, but Vi just laughed. "You're going to be disappointed, Reggie; I'm the only me I've ever been."

"In that case, all that I ask is that you indulge me while I ask you some questions," he said. "When I'm done, those names are yours."

"You're too kind," Vi said, with a certain amount of irony. "Go on then. Ask away."

So, this was Keame's plan, was it? On the face of it it sounded like a reasonable request, if a little off-the-wall, but it was clear that there was more to it than that. What was he looking for? Was he genuinely looking for closure, or was he trying to ferret out information about Vi that he could use to hurt her? Worse; did he somehow suspect she wasn't Ronin? I had no idea, but there was nothing to say that he was after just one thing. Maybe he was after all of them at once.

Without taking my eyes off Keame, I placed my heel on top of Vi's foot and pressed down hard. Not hard enough to hurt, of course, but enough to send a message. Whatever Keame's questions, she needed to think about her response, and think hard.

Keame leaned forward, his expression keen. "So, Ronin, I've always started by asking people to tell me something about themselves that not many people know. Something small and harmless, but unexpected. What's…unexpected about you, I wonder?"

"Not a lot, really," Vi said, with a shrug. "What you see is what you get."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a second. You've lived a double life for years, have you not?"

"Well…okay. I'll let you in on a little secret," she said, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I don't always wear black. When I'm not hacking the scum of the earth into ever-smaller pieces, I lounge around wearing tie-dye dresses and big chunky jewellery. Barefoot, too, if I'm not going anywhere."

"Like a hippy?" Keame said, with an amused little smile. "I have to ask; why?"

"Because I wasn't allowed to wear things like that when I was going up, that's why!" Vi flared, wiping Keame's smile clean off his face. "Besides, when your son's hangers-on were hunting for the person who carved him up, do you really think they were looking for a woman dressed like a fortune teller?"

"That's…cynical."

"I am cynical, sweetie. A lifetime of experience."

"I'm starting to appreciate that," Keame said. "But is that really the best answer to that question? After all, there's pictures of you plastered all over the Internet in a designer sundress. Is there something else you can share with us?"

My heel hovered just over Vi's foot, ready to stamp.

"You're really going for this, aren't you?" She said sourly. "Okay, fine! If you absolutely must know, I…also sleep with a soft toy."

"Come again?" Keame peered at her closely, as if suspecting a joke. "Are you genuinely telling me that Ronin, the feared vigilante, curls up at night with a teddy bear?"

"It's not that unusual! Lots of adults do it!" She protested, and suddenly I found myself frying in her stare. "And I swear, Laura, if any of this gets out—"

"It won't! I promise!" I held up my hands. "Although you know that Clint and I don't keep secrets from each other…"

She stared at me, horror dawning on her face, and then she groaned and buried her head in her hands. "Oh, Goddess. He's going to have a bloody field day with this."

I smiled, and patted her reassuringly on the shoulder. "Who, Clint? Never."

"You realise this is going to completely ruin my reputation, right?"

"On the contrary, this is exactly the kind of humanising detail I was looking for," Keame said. "Tell me; do you have a favourite?"

Vi was silent for a moment, but when she looked up there was a gentle smile on her face. "There was one, yeah. A couple of years before the Snap, Sparky — I mean, Thera and I were at a county fair, and the grand prize in the shooting gallery was this colossal brown teddy bear. It was love at first sight; the instant I saw it, I knew I was either going to win it or go bankrupt in the attempt."

"And you won it?" Keame said. "In my experience, those games are heavily rigged against would-be participants."

"Oh, it was rigged alright. It just wasn't rigged enough," Vi said, with a laugh. "Really, the hardest part was getting it home. After that, though, anytime Thera had a night shift I dressed it in one of his jumpers, put it on his side of the bed, and snuggled up to it until I fell asleep. Better than any weighted blanket, let me tell you."

"And where is it now?"

"At home, I guess? I don't know," Her face fell. "I haven't been back since the Snap. Someone could've kidnapped him."

"You haven't been home in five years? Really?"

"I couldn't. Not after Sparky—" she stopped, and took a deep, calming breath. "On that day, I lost the best thing that's ever happened to me. He was the warmest, kindest, most loving person I'd ever known, and when I was with him I was actually happy! For four years I felt like I was living in this wonderful dream, and then—" she faltered again, but now her voice was trembling with barely restrained rage. "—Thanos murdered him! He took from me the only person I've ever truly loved, and he didn't even care! He didn't even know!"

"You have my condolences," Keame said quietly. Vi's sudden anger seemed to have cowed him, if only a little. "But he faced justice, did he not? After all, Thor—"

"No! That wasn't justice!" she slammed her hand down on the table with a resounding bang. "Justice died the instant Thanos snapped his fingers, and you know it!"

"That's not true!"

"No? What sick brand of justice decreed my Sparky should die while a dog like Pexley—" she all but spat his name, "—was spared? What evil decided Laura and her children were less worthy than some hedonistic sociopath? Why did the dregs of society get to live on while good, honest, kind people lost everything? This universe is a lot of things, Keame, but it is not just, and anyone who tells you otherwise is either deluded or a liar!"

There was a stunned silence. Vi stared at us defiantly as if daring us to comment, and I was astonished to see tears sparkling in the corners of her she'd been playing it up before, she wasn't now; her anguish was real, and I felt a twinge of guilt for not spotting it sooner. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that candid, forthright Vi was more guarded than she appeared, and it was clear that Thera's death had cut her a lot more deeply than I'd thought.

"I'm sorry, Vi," I said, sadly. "I should have realised."

"We can talk about it later," she said brusquely. "Is that answer enough for you, Reggie?"

Keame exhaled heavily. "Almost. I suppose I should ask you the same question that I asked Laura. What would you have said to Thanos, if you had the opportunity?"

"Nothing. I would've done exactly what Thor did," Vi said. "But I didn't get that opportunity. I was denied what was mine by rights!"

"So having been prevented from exacting revenge upon the man who killed your beloved, you chose instead to take your rage out upon those you deemed unworthy of surviving the Snap?"

Vi's eyes narrowed. "What do you think?"

"I think that if someone considers themselves 'justice incarnate', one has to redefine the limits of what is considered rational," Keame said, and visibly braced himself. "Tell me, do you truly believe killing my son was a just act?"

The answer came back like an arrow. "Yes."

"Of course you would. Foolish question, really," Keame smiled wryly. "Let me try again; did you enjoy killing my son?"

"Enjoy? No. Of course not," Vi said, immediately. "I've never enjoyed killing anyone."

"So what did you feel?"

"Nothing. Why would I?" she said, and this time she looked a little confused. "Do you feel anything when you put the bins out? It's basically the same thing."

Keame's eyes flashed with anger, but his face remained impressively calm. "So when you assassinated my son in his bedroom—"

"—bathroom—"

"—you felt nothing as you sliced him to pieces? Genuinely nothing?"

"I suppose…I was glad I'd gotten the right place?" Vi ventured, after a moment's consideration. "It would've been a bit rough explaining to some poor mother-of-two why a murderous ninja was hiding in her en suite."

"But that's it? That's all?"

Vi gave him a frustrated look. "What do you want from me? Regret? Remorse? Why would I feel either?"

"Because—"

"Would it help if I did?"

Her question hung in the air, and for a long moment Keame stared at her, his mouth opening and closing uselessly. Finally, he sighed and said, "Thank you, Ronin. I think I finally understand."

"Understand what?"

"That the truth of the matter is that…it doesn't matter. I've been chasing a ghost this entire time," he said. "Whether you're an avenging angel or just a deeply troubled individual is ultimately immaterial, and it doesn't matter what you felt when you killed my son. The fact is that you killed him, and no amount of pontification, exposition, or justification can change that."

"No, it won't," Vi said bluntly, and then her gaze softened. "Take it from an old hand, Reggie; I'm not what you're looking for. In fact, you could tear this world down to its very foundations and not find what you're looking for, because closure isn't something you can find. Ultimately, it's something that you have to give yourself."

"Have you found closure, Ronin?"

"It's taken a long time, a lot of therapy, and enough medication to kill an elephant, but…yeah, I have," she said, with a smile. "And if I can find it, I'm sure you can too."

"Maybe. Who knows what the future will bring?" Keame said, and his gaze suddenly shifted out the window. "But alas, I see we're nearly out of time."

I turned to look. In the distance, deep in the inky black darkness, I saw a convoy of steady red lights charging down the perimeter road, surrounded by a flashing nimbus of bright, actinic blue. A faint, keening wail pierced the night.

"More Blacknest?" Vi asked urgently. "I thought we'd wiped them all out!"

"No, it's the police," I glared at Keame. "I'm guessing you had something to do with this, right?"

"Yes, but they're not here for Ronin. They're here to secure the site." he said. "This is a refinery, after all. The ecological and economic consequences of its destruction would be dire indeed."

"And when did you make that call?"

"Just before Mr. Wong helped me return Bill to his family," he said. "I saw no point in including further participants in your skirmish, and the Arachnid would have simply torn them apart."

I had to admit, he had a pretty good point. Enough lives had been lost tonight without adding a column of policemen to their number. "So…what now?"

"Now? I will likely be taken in for questioning," Keame said, and gestured through the broken window. "I suspect they will want an explanation as to why there are so many corpses littering the site, to say nothing of the damage to the building itself."

"And what're you going to say, exactly?" Vi said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "If you're looking to place the blame on Clint and Laura—"

"Not at all. I shall take full responsibility for everything that has happened here."

"You'll what?" I exclaimed. "But why?"

He smiled, a little sadly. "Because Patti was right; my actions have betrayed everything that my family and my company claimed to stand for. I ignored the obvious warning signs, and in doing so placed countless innocents in harm's way. If there's to be any chance of atoning for what I have wrought, I must first accept the consequences of my actions."

"That's very honourable of you," Vi said dryly. "So…is that it? Can we have the List?"

"You have fulfilled your end of our agreement. It is only right that I fulfil mine," Keame said. "Fortunately, I did prepare for this eventuality…"

Vi and I watched with mounting excitement as he reached into his jacket pocket and produced, with a flourish, a long, slim brown envelope. It was totally unremarkable, giving no clue to its contents, and once again I was struck by the sheer banality of something that we'd gone through hell and back to get our hands on. Even so, my heart raced as he placed it carefully, almost reverentially on the tabletop and pushed it towards us.

"I believe you'll find everything is in order, as promised," he said. "Unfortunately, I can't promise that all the contact details are still current, but hopefully it will see you on your way."

"Well— hey!" I began, but with a blur of motion Vi snatched up the envelope and eagerly ripped it open, revealing a carefully folded sheet of paper. She unfolded it with a flick of the wrist, and I caught a glimpse of a printed spreadsheet before she pulled it close, staring raptly at the contents thereon. "Careful, Vi!"

"Goddess…" Vi breathed, and her hands began to tremble. "They're all here, Laura. All of them. Names, phone numbers, addresses…"

"How about Alvin? Is he there?" I said, unable to contain my growing excitement. "Alvin Bennett?"

"Bennett…Bennett…yes! He's even highlighted!"

"Indeed," Keame said, knowingly. "Finding him took a bit of extra work. It appears that someone tried to modify his entry, but I was able to recover the most salient details."

"We can do it, Laura," Vi said hoarsely. "We really can. We can get them all home…"

"Please try your utmost. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than to hear that you've brought this chapter of these children's lives to a swift and happy resolution." Keame stood up, and began to move slowly towards the door. "Unfortunately, I believe that this is where we part ways, but—"

"Wait, Keame," Vi said, and Keame paused as she came to her feet. "Look, I'm not sorry I killed Simon, but I am sorry you lost your son. Maybe that's just splitting hairs, but I thought you should know."

"Thank you," said Keame. "And as an upstanding, law-abiding citizen of this fine state, I thank you for putting an end to his actions and preventing further suffering — but as his father, I'm not sure I can ever forgive you."

"That…seems fair," Vi said. "Good luck out there, Reginald."

Keame paused at the door, his hand on the handle, and then turned back to say, "The same to you. Both of you. Something tells me you'll need it."

The door swung once, with the faintest creak of its hinges, and then he was gone.

"So…what do we do now?" I said. Vi didn't respond, and when I looked she was staring after Keame with an inscrutable expression on her face. "Hey, Vi!"

"What? Oh, sorry," she said. "I was just thinking about how desperate he was to claim the moral high ground. You were right; he was up to something. Or he was looking for something. I'm sure of it."

"What do you think that was?"

"Beats me, but I don't think he found it. Not if all he could muster was a last-minute attempt to manipulate me into taking a dive," she snorted. "You have to admit, it was very honourable of him to take full responsibility for the damage caused by Blacknest and the Arachnid. I mean, all he did was fund both sides and then engineer a situation where they wiped each other out. He's practically an innocent bystander."

I grinned. "Okay, enough cynicism. Let's focus on what's really important here; we've got the List! After all this time, we've actually got the Missouri List!"

"Well, part of it," Vi said, and sat back on the table. "Now, all we need is for Thera and Strange to burst through that door and announce that they've come up with a solution, and I think we'll be home and dry. Wouldn't that be nice, eh?"

At that exact moment, the large double doors were flung open and hit the walls with a resounding crash. Thera came skidding through, red-faced and breathless, and leant against the sofa while he sucked down deep lungfuls of air. He was, simply put, a mess; his clothes were stained and covered in chunks of…something, but at the same time he seemed strangely upbeat. That had to be a good sign!

"Well, speak of the devil," Vi said, with a rather self-satisfied smile.

"I believe that's 'devils'," Strange's voice echoed through the corridor, and then the Master of the Mystic Arts walked casually into the boardroom. Compared to Thera he was the very picture of composure; squeaky clean with nary a hair out of place. What had they been doing down there — and possibly more to the point, how had Thera managed to get the worst of it? "And before you ask, I did suggest he take the lift."

"No time…" Thera gasped.

"On the contrary, there is plenty of time."

"So what're you two doing up here?" Vi said. Her tone was clipped, but I could hear a note of hope in her voice. "What've you got for us?"

"Something…pretty amazing," Thera took one last gulp, and then the words all came out in a rush. "It turns out that there's actually some aspects of commonality between our magics after all, and when we started using those as bridging points we found that we could achieve structural harmony with—"

"Perhaps it would be better if we just showed them, Thera?" Strange asked, wearily. "It might prove more illustrative."

"Oh, right! Right!" Thera said. "Please; by all means."

"Thank you," the sorcerer fished around inside his cloak, and pulled out…an apple. This wasn't just any apple, though; this one was wreathed in the intricate geometric shapes and symbols that I'd come to associate with Strange's magic. However, where Strange's magic was forged from orange flame and brilliant sparks, this spell seemed somehow calmer, more restrained, and its warm, blue-gold light gently lit up the room.

"It's very pretty," remarked Vi, after a moment's study. "But what is it?"

"Well…it's not an Eeebie. 'Turns out we're not quite ready for that, yet," said Thera. "But then Strange had this great idea about how maybe we could stabilise everything for a little while, and then one thing led to another and—"

Vi held up a hand. "We don't need the details, sweetie. All we need to know is… is it going to work?"

Thera and Strange exchanged a long look. "Well, we can't offer any guarantees. Nobody's done this before, and we've only really tested it on different types of fruit—"

"Sparky!"

"—but honestly?" Thera's sudden smile was like the sun coming up. "Yeah. I think we're in with a chance."