Scarecrow:

I admit she has piqued my interest with her little experiment. I realize she must have some hidden escape plan, but I also think she will keep her word as long as she believes I am keeping mine. I would like to see what she has in mind—she is a bright woman, and certainly the most interesting company I've had since the time I joined forces with Jervis Tetch. The time for her destruction will come, and soon, but for now, Batgirl will do.

Speaking of Batgirl…

I fold my newspaper neatly and place it on the table next to my battery-powered reading lamp, stand, and cross the room. A storage locker from the warehouse downstairs sits in the car corner of the room. I knock on the door.

"Are the walls closing in, Batgirl? Are you running out of air?"

"No, but I kind of have to pee." Her voice is muffled, but not terribly strained. I suppose I can rule out claustrophobia.

True to the terms of our arrangement, I have not used my fear toxin on the girl. I am enjoying the challenge.

I will have to change my methods, of course. I can't waste any more time searching for her personal fear. This is not just a contest, but a race. I can afford to sacrifice thoroughness for the sake of speed. Certain fears, after all, are deeply ingrained in all human beings. It shouldn't be difficult to set something up.

Emily:

Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow and a woman.

Al?

Not all.

Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow Scarecrow…

Scarecrow:

I take Batgirl to see Emily, who doesn't acknowledge our presence. She is lost in her own nightmares, which must be very much like her reality, if I have read her as well as I think I have.

"Is she alive?" Batgirl asks. Emily's eyes move toward her.

"Oh, yes, very much alive. I'm sure you've noticed that I haven't used my fear toxin on you yet. Batman must have told you about it. He may have tried to prepare you to withstand its effects. I want you to take a good look at Emily. If she were still capable of speaking in full sentences, she would tell you all about what I can do. What do you say, Emily?

"The Scarecrow walks at midnight," she singsongs. Batgirl's eyes widen. Her breathing accelerates slightly.

Perfect.

I push her down onto the only piece of furniture in the room, a wooden see-saw stolen from a children's playground. The leather straps I have attached hold her firmly in place. I tilt her head toward the floor so she and Emily can look at each other while I go and get some water.

Al:

In my pocket I have a marble-sized tracking device I took from Robin's clothes when I stripped him. Last night in the dark, I couldn't figure out how to activate it. I don't dare try to look at it in the light, with Joe Hench watching.

I know I need to give it back to Robin, but I'm not sure how. I may be a passable pickpocket, but for some reason I've never been able to slip anything to a contact without being seen by every rat and rival within five miles. Robin doesn't look like he's in any condition to accept a transfer with sangfroid, anyway.

He has curled up as close as he can to the fetal position under his cape, trying to conserve warmth. I feel terrible for him. I don't think this room is cold enough to seriously harm him, but I've been wrong about that before. I kneel down and touch his leg. It's like ice. He squirms away from me, his movements lethargic. Shit. I don't want to kill another one this way.

"Robin, are you ready to talk to me?"

"What do you want?" he mumbles.

"I just want to know your name."

"Robin."

"Oh, little Robin. This will all end when you tell me what I want to know. For both our sakes, I hope you give in before I have to start making you drink your own urine." He squirms again, and I realize that he has been here overnight and part of the day without a potty break. He must be about to pop.

I hate to do this to him, but I decide not to let him go to the bathroom.

But since I've already made the shrinking manhood joke, there's no more embarrassment to be gained by keeping the kid frozen half to death. I get Joe Hench to find some blankets. He won't leave me alone with the Boy Wonder, of course, but he gives me a little breathing room. I appreciate it.

I am wrapping a blanket around Robin's shoulders when the horrendous screaming begins.

Joe Hench turns his eyes away from me for the first time all day. I have the tracker out of my pocket in an instant. I fumble it, almost drop it, and pop it in my mouth just before he turns his attention back to me.

"Is that Batgirl?" Robin whispers. I look from him to Joe Henchman and back again. Robin is still shivering.

"This ought to warm you up, Batboy," I say, and press my lips against his.

He freezes, utterly shocked, but is quick-witted enough to take the thing into his mouth.

"It's like kissing my brother," I say, as if sorely disappointed.