"What do you mean she went to the Huntsclan?" Susan knows how she must sound. Disbelieving. Distraught. Desperate. Dumbfounded. "You knew what she was planning and you didn't stop her?"
"She had an application," says Marty, as if that justifies any of this. "And you know how she gets. I couldn't have stopped her."
He could have stopped her, but he couldn't have stopped her easily without risking hurting her, so Susan supposes she should be grateful for that, but— "She can't go to the Huntsclan. An application won't stop them from slaying her."
"Look, I've done what I can to protect her, and Fu's already gotten back to me. The search for a back way in is well on its way, and if he can talk anyone into going on a rescue mission—"
"That's a worse idea than Haley going in the first place," Susan hisses. "We don't need more people caught, and even those who can pass as human would be at risk." She's thought of trying to infiltrate them herself in the past, but she couldn't— She never—
Haley's eight.
She might be the American Dragon, she might be quick and clever for her age, but that's not the point.
The point is very much that she shouldn't be doing this, Marty should have tried harder to talk her out of it and not stopped until he'd been successful, and now Susan has to ask her son to risk his life and hers to try to get Haley out safely because she can't ask the same of anyone else—
"She is human right now," says Marty, and dread fills Susan. Surely he hadn't—? "She's fine. I was careful, and she has it with her in case things go sideways."
He had.
Susan doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.
She's not sure if this is worse.
"It was her idea," adds Marty, but that doesn't surprise Susan at all. If Haley only did things Susan thought acceptable as the American Dragon, her successful completion rate of her missions would be half of what it is. She's taken risks before, and sometimes those risks blow up in her face, but Susan would rather spend all night brewing a reversal potion with Fu while Haley catches up on some desperately needed sleep than—
Jake touches her arm. "Wrap it up. We need to keep moving."
"We'll talk about this later," she says to Marty, the words as much a promise as a threat, and she hears him sigh.
"Look, I don't like this idea any better than you do, but she's not in mortal peril right now, and she has a shot at this. She has a better shot at it than she did at getting out of the mess I found her in earlier tonight."
Susan, who suddenly has even more reason to be horrified, opens her mouth to ask.
Marty doesn't give her the chance. "And she's right. She'll need to deal with the skulls sooner or later. You know they don't stay hidden, and I can't hold on to the one I have for long."
The skulls. As in the Aztec Skulls? She can't think of any others that don't stay hidden and that Marty—of all people—would be hesitant to keep in his possession. But still. Since when were they involved? She'd thought they were lost. Scattered.
Then again, as Marty had so helpfully pointed out, they don't stay hidden.
It doesn't really surprise her to learn that the Huntsclan would try to gather them upon learning of their existence, either.
Susan hisses out a breath through her teeth. This is bad. All of this news is bad. She might know where Haley is now, but it's the worst possible place she could be, even if she is without her dragon chi.
"Please let my father know where she is," Susan says. "And tell him I'll…. Tell him I'll go get her."
"You? But you can't—"
"Please," she repeats, her voice cracking on the word, and Marty relents. Susan thanks him before hanging up and looking at Jake. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, but I need you to take me to the Huntsclan. Please."
Jake blinks.
Clearly, he hadn't expected the request any more than she had expected to make it, but if she could think of any other way….
"Haley's there," Susan adds softly. "She had an application."
"To the academy? How?"
"I didn't ask," admits Susan as she runs a hand through her hair, "but she…. They shouldn't know what she is if her luck's held, I think, but I need to get her out before she's discovered. You don't have to come with me, but if you can at least get me to a door…."
"No," Jake says, and her heart freezes at the refusal before he continues, "I know what she looks like, and she knows me. I can get her without you."
"We'll go together."
"It'll be easier if we don't."
"I know, but I…. I need to go. You can turn me in if you have to. I just need to get inside."
His eyes narrow. "Do you have some trick up your sleeve to help you?"
She shakes her head. "I wish I did."
He looks heartbreakingly like Jonathan as his expression hardens with determination before he says, "Then we sneak in. Come on."
Jake stops her with a hand on her arm and a finger to his lips before he slips into the shadows. When he reappears by her side moments later, all he does is point out a hidden camera before motioning her along a path to avoid being clearly caught in its view. It's only then that she realizes he must have taken out the guard—guards?—on his own. She hadn't even seen them. She hadn't seen the camera, either, which means she must be getting too old for this.
Jake keeps his face turned away from the camera, and she lets her hair obscure hers as much as she can without being overt about it. They'll still be seen ducking into the alley, but this one isn't a dead end; there's a chance whoever is watching will assume they're cutting right through. At least, there's a chance if whoever is watching doesn't recognize Jake and doesn't know enough about his situation to recognize her. There's a chance if there isn't another camera on the other side. If, if, if….
"It's here." Jake's voice is barely audible, but she's listening for it.
Following his lead, she crouches down beside a dumpster as Jake squeezes behind it and edges toward a grate hidden in the stone wall. He hasn't finished opening the hidden entrance he's brought her to before she hears a deliberate cough behind them. Jake freezes before slowly raising his hands, but Susan turns without even doing that. She knows that cough.
Fu Dog cocks his head at her. "You two forget you were supposed to be going anywhere but here?"
In spite of everything, Susan can't help but smile. "It's good to see you again."
"Agagagoo," mutters Fu. "I'd rather be seein' you somewhere else."
Susan glances back at Jake and sees him watching Fu with a guarded expression. His hands are lowered again, but he's clearly not comfortable enough to turn away. "It's all right," she says. "Fu's here for the same reason we are." She looks back at him. "Right?"
"Marty and I'll be talking more later," he says, which is all the confirmation Susan needs. Nothing more had come up in the meantime—or at least nothing that changed the game. He'd have told her otherwise, however obliquely.
Jake purses his lips. "How did you even know to be here?"
"Your sister," Fu says shortly. "For that building, anyway." He tips his head towards what Susan suspects is the larger building she'd seen at the end of the block. "Didn't know this one was connected till I smelled you over here."
The fact that Fu could smell them at all is impressive, as Susan doubts the entrance—and the reeking dumpster which conceals it—was positioned by happenstance.
"There are a lot of connections," Jake says. "If the network wasn't extensive, we'd risk being backed into a corner. But your staking out the building listed on the applications is only going to get you caught. Your people should pull back if you care about them."
"Give us some credit, kid. We ain't new at this."
Jake scowls. "I'll have a better shot at getting the American Dragon out alive if none of you are here." His eyes flick to Susan. "You included. You're only risking yourselves."
"You're not going alone," Susan says again. Jake keeps offering, but she's afraid that if she leaves him now, she'll never see him again.
With everything that's at stake, she cannot convince herself that fear is unwarranted.
"We were gonna create a distraction so some of us could get in," Fu says, unfazed by Jake's snort at the words. Susan suspects Fu's being deliberately vague, but she can hardly fault him for it, just as she can hardly fault Jake for not believing Fu could pull it off. Jake's childhood wouldn't have painted Fu in the best light, and the mishap of Haley's capture months ago may have only reinforced Jake's bias. "I can make sure some people are on standby for when you're ready to get outta Dodge. Might be able to buy you some time."
"You'd sacrifice them so readily?"
Fu doesn't blink at the words. "Who says it'll be a sacrifice?"
Susan doesn't want to think that they'd argue now, but she's not about to give them the chance in case either of them feel inclined to try. "It's a moot point. I don't have a way to signal you. Unless you have a second cell phone on you?"
She doesn't expect he will, but Fu digs into his folds with one paw before holding a flip phone out in her direction. "It's a burner, the one I take to card night when someone new is hosting. You know my number? I don't have any in there."
Susan nods—memorizing important phone numbers is something she's been doing since childhood—and pockets the phone. She wants to tell Fu not to take any unnecessary risks, but nothing they might do right now isn't a risk, and there's very little that Fu would deem unnecessary when Haley's in danger. "We'll get her out safely."
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He raises one paw and gives her a mock salute as she fights back a smile; at this point, Fu would do—or at least try—anything. Looking over at Jake, he adds, "Good luck, kiddo."
Jake's lip curls at kiddo, but he gives Fu a sharp nod instead of a sharp retort, so Susan figures the interaction could have gone worse.
Jake doesn't turn back to his task until she reports that Fu is out of sight, though.
"Fu's going to do whatever he can to help us, you know," she says.
Jake doesn't look at her. "The guardian always does."
"Which is a good thing."
Jake doesn't answer, not even by offering a hum of acknowledgement. Susan doesn't press the point further, and the silence is only broken by a creak of metal as the grate comes off in Jake's hands about ten seconds later. He sets it to the side and edges beside it. "Can you squeeze through?"
She'll have to; she doubts they'll be able to move the dumpster by themselves.
Susan goes slowly, turning shoulders and hips and otherwise manoeuvring so she's as small as possible. It's uncomfortably tight, but she makes it, and when Jake waves for her to keep going, she pulls herself over the lip of the opening and headfirst into the darkness.
It's a crawl space and not a drop, thank goodness, so she shuffles forward to wait for Jake and tries not to sneeze as dust fills her nostrils. She fails on that front, and despite muffling it in the crook of her elbow, it sounds far too loud. There's no scolding from Jake, though. She can hear him follow her and then replace the grate, and by the time he whispers for her to keep going straight, her eyes have adjusted enough to realize that's the only place where she can see a faint outline of light around a door.
Or an opening, at any rate; she can't tell how far away it is from here, so it might be much too small to be a proper door. Likely as not, it's not larger than the opening they'd just slipped through.
"We'll come out in a maintenance room in the training portion of the academy." Jake's voice is low, but she can hear him clearly enough. "There aren't any cameras there." He hesitates. "At least, there never used to be."
They'll have to risk it. She can't imagine Jake would bring her here if he had a better idea of where to go.
Once they reach the door—little more than a hatch, really—Susan opens it slowly, but the room below looks empty. She drops down as silently as she can and waits for Jake. She can't spot any cameras in here, but that doesn't mean there won't be any outside.
Jake closes the access before moving over to crack the door into the hallway and peer out. She stays where she is until he waves her forward, and then she's following him as silently as she can down the hallway.
It goes smoothly until it doesn't, namely when the warning of chattering voices still doesn't give them enough time to force open a locked door and they're caught in the open.
The pair of boys looks like they're Jake's age if she had to guess, and despite their masks, she can see the surprise clearly on their faces. "Who're you?" asks the shorter one as he gapes openly at her.
"Elder from another branch," Jake says before she can think of a suitable lie, but his speaking at all is a mistake because it draws their attention to him.
"Wait," says the taller one. "99?"
The shorter one makes a grab for Jake's arm. Jake jerks out of the way, but the taller one—89, she can see his number now—lunges for him, too. The shorter one—88—rushes behind him as Jake tries to evade them, and in seconds she's the only one free. "We've got him! We're gonna be the ones to bring him in!"
Jake twists free of their grip with enough ease that she suspects they haven't been here very long. They're not just within their first year; they might not even have a couple of months under their belt. She'd known Jake would be right in his assessment that these two shouldn't have been sent out with Huntsgirl, but this gives her an entirely new appreciation of the situation.
In a blink, Jake's moved to put himself between her and the initiates. "I came of my own accord," he snaps at them, "because my task was to retrieve and escort—"
"You were on a surveillance mission," interrupts 89. "They told us."
"And then you went AWOL, so we were sent to find you," puts in 88. "And we did." With a glance at 89, he adds, "We're totally passing Huntsgirl's test now."
Susan hasn't any idea what test they might be talking about, and she hadn't expected to, but she's not sure Jake does, either.
Regardless, the words must tell him something useful, because she sees his expression tighten as he surveys them before he grinds out, "You mean 93."
The other two blink in confusion, but 89 is the one to so eloquently ask, "Huh?"
"93 isn't Huntsgirl anymore. But you mean 93, don't you?"
88 and 89 share a baffled look.
Jake sighs as they turn back to him. "You failed," he says shortly. "You being told I was on a surveillance mission? This whole search? That was part of your test. Which you failed. You didn't even check in for updates like you were supposed to."
"That's Huntsgirl's job," says 88. "She's leading us."
"But it's protocol that if you split up for any reason—" Jake breaks off. "Look, you're in your first year. Do yourselves a favour and leave now before the real consequences kick in."
88 narrows his eyes. "Like they did for you? When you failed to run away?"
"I came back," counters Jake. "How's that running away?"
"He's got a point," murmurs 89, and he gets an elbow in his stomach from 88 for the observation.
"Of course I have a point. Just because this was an involved drill doesn't mean it wasn't a drill. Did you really think you'd be sent out with Huntsgirl for something that wasn't a mock mission?"
"Um," says 89 as he starts twisting his fingers together. "No?"
"Exactly. So clear out. You failed."
"Hold up," says 88, raising a hand to emphasize his point. "Why would Huntsgirl get demoted if this was a mock mission? Is it because she messed up her special assignment?"
Special assignment?
Susan can't tell if Jake recognizes what 88 is talking about. Now, he's being very careful to keep a blank expression, but she's not sure if it's because he fears what 88 and 89 might read in his face or what she might see there.
Jake hesitates before saying, "Everyone's evaluated on these things, and it clearly didn't go off perfectly."
He's answering one question instead of both and pretending it answers both.
"It wouldn't be a mock mission if it did!" protests 88.
Jake raises an eyebrow. "So you think it went as well as it possibly could have?"
"Well, no, but—"
"We don't have time to argue," interrupts Susan. It's risky to bring their attention back to her, but it's risky being out in the open, loudly conversing wherever anyone might overhear them. "Make your choice and accept the consequences that come with that decision."
88 and 89 look at each other and then back at her. "If you're really an elder from another branch," asks 88, "why aren't you in uniform?"
"I hardly wanted to draw everyone's attention."
"But aren't you drawing more attention when you're not in uniform?" 89 asks, the confusion clear in his voice.
"In here, perhaps," Susan says mildly before Jake can cut in to answer and arouse their suspicions further. "That's not true of the streets, let alone the path we took."
The two look at each other again.
Susan clasps her hands in front of her and pastes an overly sweet smile on her face. "Let's put it this way, shall I? If 93 was stripped of her title based on the outcome of your mission, what consequences do you think you will face? If you're willing to accept them, by all means, report in without your mission leader."
"Um," says 89 again. He looks between her and Jake. "So it's really bad, then? Not just, like, a week of dish duty? Or laundry?"
"Worse than spending the next three years of your life cleaning toilets," Jake says flatly. He tilts his head towards Susan. "But if you're on bathroom duty pretty much permanently, that means I won't be pulling it, so…."
"I don't believe you," says 88. He crosses his arms. "You just want to get rid of us."
"Why shouldn't we?" Susan asks. Jake shoots her a sharp look at the words, but she ignores him. "Even if every other transgression were forgivable, you compromised your identities by showing your faces while in uniform. You are now known members of the Huntsclan to the magical community."
"You don't know that for sure!" exclaims 88 at the same time as 89 says, "How'd you know what we did?"
"The Huntsclan has eyes everywhere, and it would be a foolish thing indeed to assume the magical community does not strive to do the same."
89 takes a step back from her—and, perhaps more importantly, from Jake.
88 hesitantly lets his arms drop before asking, "The bylaws are real, right? It's not just another thing like the mock mission or Huntsgirl's test?"
"They're real," confirms Jake. "It's in your handbook."
"Yeaaaaah," 88 says slowly, "then I'm gonna, uh, do that. Resign."
"Me, too," chimes in 89. "Effective immediately. And I read that fine print. You can't stab us in the back when we leave!"
Jake's expression is more a baring of teeth than a smile. "Not if you run fast enough."
They scatter.
Susan reaches for Jake's hand once they're out of sight, and he doesn't pull away. "You can renounce them, too. When you're ready." She thinks he might be—soon, if not quite now.
He hadn't fought 88 and 89, after all.
He'd convinced them to give up and to leave all this behind so he didn't have to worry about whatever they might say about seeing him, true, and perhaps to help his friend with whatever story she'd spun for them, but he could have gained that assurance in a bloodier way.
"We need to find your daughter," he says as he starts to pull her in their original direction, opposite of the way 88 and 89 had fled. Part of her wants to argue because renouncing the Huntsclan won't impede their ability to find Haley, but what if she's wrong about that? What if there are some security measures Jake can bypass as someone who is born with the Mark of the Huntsclan? It's not unfathomable that the Huntsclan would use magic despite claiming to despise it.
Actually, given that they're gathering the skulls, it's more likely than not.
Still.
Jake hasn't let go of her hand.
She can take some comfort in that if nothing else.
"I can check the surveillance within the facility when we get to the security rooms, but not everyone is going to be fooled about who you are, especially if the rest of them know I found my family. We need uniforms first."
"I could be a distraction." She doesn't particularly like the idea—either idea, really—but if it would help….
"You'd be overwhelmed. 88 and 89 are the exception, not the rule." Jake slows and catches her eye. "Your daughter needs her mother."
"And so do you?"
He looks away and picks up his pace instead of answering, but it's an answer in and of itself.
"You do." She hopes the words sound more firm than pleading. "It's all right if you're afraid. I'm afraid, too—for you, for my daughter, for my husband, for myself, for everyone who's helping us right now. But while it's good to let fear keep you sharp, you can't let it take control and make you reckless. There will be a future for you when this is over. For 93, too, if I have anything to say about it. Please, don't forget that."
He presses his free hand over his heart before letting it slowly curl into a fist.
She doesn't know what to say to him that will help him believe her.
Susan's still trying to figure it out when the lights above them go out without so much as a flicker of warning.
She sincerely doubts the Huntsclan wouldn't have some sort of backup—be it a generator or another system entirely—but nothing comes on, not even as Jake pulls her to one side of the hallway and they stand in silence as the seconds tick by.
"Is this their distraction?" Jake finally breathes into the eerie quiet. "It can't be everywhere. It—" He breaks off, and she's sure it's because he's hearing the same thing she is: muffled shouts, confused shrieks, angry accusations.
This power outage might have started in their little wing, but it had spread.
"Your people are going to get themselves slaughtered." Jake is doing a poor job of hiding his anger and fear, if he's even trying. "This is as good as warning the Huntsclan of their attack."
Admittedly, Susan doesn't know who exactly is gathered with Fu, but she isn't sure this is them.
She doesn't know who else it might be, though.
Unless Haley—?
"What if the attack came from inside?"
"You think someone took out the entire surveillance team just so they could do this?"
Susan raises an eyebrow, though without his dragon chi, she knows Jake won't see it. "Is your electrical room so heavily monitored and scrutinized when a maintenance room with an exit outside is not?"
Jake huffs. "Most people don't know about that. I only do because Hunts— Because 93 and I spent so much time in there."
She waits.
"Fine, I guess it's possible. Even more so if one of yours followed us after they promised to wait."
They hadn't promised to wait. Fu had said he'd keep some of them on standby, but he'd never said anything about keeping everyone back, and she rather doubts he has the power to make that call alone. Similarly, the call to attack, the call to invade—if it had been made—wouldn't have been made lightly or by one soul alone. "You say that like you haven't any measures to prevent such a thing."
"That entrance doesn't have half of what the others do, and there's less once you're inside. I wouldn't have survived in here if I'd had to worry about where I walked every waking second. The main entrance is the big one. But…."
"But?" Susan prompts gently when Jake doesn't continue.
He squeezes her hand. "I don't know how much the Huntsclan really knows. About me. If they suspect anything, they— It wouldn't take them long to make changes. And I wouldn't feel any of that now. I— I don't—"
She doesn't need to see him to pull him into a hug, and the fact that he doesn't fight to get away from her after everything tells her volumes.
"We're both doing the best we can, and we're going to get through this together." She wants to stay like this, for this moment of tentative peace to last forever, but she knows better than to hope something inconvenient won't come around the corner at the most inopportune time. "Now, are you still thinking it's best to find uniforms, or are we better off going straight to the surveillance or electrical rooms?"
She doesn't resist when he untangles himself from her embrace, but his hand still finds hers so he can lead her through the hallways he knows so well.
"I need to get to the main surveillance room," he says slowly, "but it's going to be crawling with people now. The electrical room won't be any better. We need uniforms so we don't stand out. Even if they don't fix this soon, everyone else will have flashlights."
"All right. I trust your judgement. Let's go."
Susan isn't sure if she's imagining the shaky intake of breath she hears from Jake, but he doesn't argue with her.
Instead, he leads her deeper into the darkness that has overtaken the Huntsclan's NYC chapter.