Break 1
Author: Wildbow

Break 1 | Pale

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McCauleigh sat in the chair in Raymond’s office.  Diffuse images moved around them, projected.  He had programs he could lean on that referenced marketing to certain age groups, calming colors, interests, and styles, then pull those together enough that there was something vaguely soothing and yet not distracting in regular motion, on monitors and projected surfaces.  He’d read the notes, checked with witnesses.

Raymond wondered if he was the worst person in the world to end up sitting in this chair, as part of this scenario.

The Hennigars tended to remind Raymond of the school bullies of the cinemas.  Children and teenagers with expensive haircuts, expensive clothes, but something a bit harder beneath that.  One of the boys had a twice-broken nose, each of the boys and their elder sister Hadley were already more athletic than Raymond had ever been.  Even McCauleigh was getting there faster than most thirteen year olds.

She slouched in the seat by necessity of the chair she’d chosen; she’d picked the biggest chair in the room and stayed there, even though it was built more for frames like those of Abraham, his lankier son Reid, or McCauleigh’s father, Grayson Hennigar.  Knees over the edge of the seat, sneaker toes barely grazing the floor, her shoulders and neck against the back.  She wore jeans and an athletic halter top, her hair was styled in cultivated waves that might’ve cost hundreds, but the structure of that hair had languished a bit here, away from those stylists, under her inexpert care.  She had a strong chin and a perpetual ‘try me’ look on her face, and a strand of hair lay diagonally across brow and nose, untouched even though most people would want to fix it.  Like she was testing herself or signaling something to him by leaving it there, her eyes perpetually on him.

The eyes.  The glare.

He pretended to read through student records while he got thoughts in order.

He hoped, even though it wasn’t a good thing, that McCauleigh would say something to break the tense silence, and give him a starting point.  An apology, a provocation.

He was glad that this was a place they could come, in a way.  They came from extreme kinds of childhood and family.  Many of those families were insular.  Walled cities with strict and specific views.  Here, at least, there was exposure to other views, a wider world, and other youths.  They trended a little bit toward something resembling an average childhood, average crushes on fellow students.  Going for walks in the woods, swimming in the creek, kicking a ball between them on the athletic field.

That alone might even be more valuable than all of the practitioner knowledge that the Blue Heron could ever give them.

He’d seen each of the Hennigars arrive, ten or eleven when they first came to the Blue Heron, each of them aggressive, excitable, quick to jump into conflicts, quick to establish pecking orders.  They had each agreed not to harm other students but they had a way of toeing the line, of finding those accidental too-hard pushes, and the grey-area fights.  None of the teachers really wanted to expel a student, and other students were reluctant to make enemies that would make life harder for their families, so the Hennigars persisted in that fashion.  Toeing that line.

Raymond had been there to see Cade Hennigar when he arrived, the last of a prior generation, Grayson’s youngest brother, one of this school’s first students, then there had been a period of merciful quiet, and then the rest had come.  Hadley, Kellen, Sawyer, McCauleigh.  Cade’s girlfriend had given birth, Raymond knew, and the little girl would trail a few years behind McCauleigh.

All of them similar in how they came in like- he knew it was uncharitable, but dogs at a shelter, ones who’d come from a bad place.  Guarded, hostile, prone to bite, prone to go from sitting down and relaxed to frenzied violence with a word.  Then, at different times, sometimes sooner, sometimes later, they’d find civilization.  Their style would change, their focus would shift, they’d start trying at things that were natural for others, like table manners.  They became people who could go about their lives in everyday society without leaving a trail of distress behind them.  At least on the surface.  That ease with which they’d reach for violence as their answer to a problem would always be there.  The civility would get cast off.  Hadley could be charming, but she could also be savage.  Kellen could go between the two like he was flicking a switch.

Here, Hadley and Kellen found themselves, he hoped.  The two extremes blurring.

McCauleigh wasn’t there yet.  She couldn’t relax enough to let the extremes start blurring, and she hadn’t even started to find that part of her that wanted to get to grips with the civilized world out there.

He hadn’t been headmaster, nor had he held a position of particular responsibility when Cade had come through, or Hadley, or the elder boys.  Now he found himself in that position.  There were some students he could handle with ease.

There were some he couldn’t, who drove at his weak points like wedges driven home by sledgehammers.  Lucy Ellingson.  Now McCauleigh Hennigar.

The way they looked at him made him think of Hector.  His son.  Ex-son.  His beautiful boy.

“I don’t want to expel you,” he said.

McCauleigh didn’t bat an eyelash.

“But I need something from you, that tells me you’re on a way to behaving more acceptably for this institution.”

“What?”

“What do you need from me?” she asked.

“I don’t want to outline the answer for you.  It should come from you.”

He hoped to see a waver, but she didn’t break the eye contact.

“I understand you’re staying for the fall-winter semester.”

“Yeah.  Dad’s busy.”

“We’ll reassess things by the winter break and the end of the semester.  I want you to be able to come to me and outline what you’ve been doing differently.  Changes you’ve made, things you’ve started doing to be a better part of this community, ways you’ve made it a better, happier, and healthier space for everyone present.”

“Okay,” she said, too quickly.

“I’m giving you four months.  That’s a good chunk of time.  Take some of that time to study fellow students, read, look online for advice.  Ask students who aren’t your family.  Figure something out.  If we hit the winter break and it feels like you’ve forgotten about this event or this offer from me, or if the changes or actions taken feel like token efforts, you won’t be coming back for the winter-spring.”

“Sure.”

“You’re in a crowded room.  If you made a friend your age, we could move you to the room at the end of the hall.”

“Talos?”

“A female friend your age.  We typically only mix rooms if it’s siblings.”

“Okay.  Darn.”

Get you away from your siblings, give you elbow room to grow?

“Is that it, then?  Can I go get dinner?”

“Yes.  I hope you do realize I’m serious.”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, getting to her feet, pushing the chair back a bit in the process.  He used his ability to reach into his demesne to bring it back into position when she stepped away, rubbing at her neck.

She seemed too casual about this.  The look in her eyes hadn’t relented though.  A Hector look.

“If they hadn’t been able to reattach Corbin’s thumbs, and if Corbin hadn’t been gracious about the matter, this would have been a very different conversation.  At the very least, making peace with him and apologizing would be a start.”

“Sure,” she said.

“Enjoy your dinner.”

She went to the door, opening it, then stopped.  She looked back, and he raised his eyebrows to let her know he was paying attention, interested.

“You’re really bad at this,” she said.

Then she let the door swing shut, not breaking that eye contact until the door shut the rest of the way.

He willed the lock to turn, then dropped back into his seat, heavy and weary.

Hector words to go with a Hector look.  Words that took the wind out of him, because of how painfully accurate they felt.  A look like he was disappointing or failing, despite his efforts.  There was more to McCauleigh and what she was doing than Raymond knew, and that had been true for even Hector, who he’d raised from an early age.  In a way.  Maybe he’d been too absent for too many critical moments.  But if Hector had been someone Raymond knew best, out of all the people he knew, and if he hadn’t known Hector at all, then where did that leave him?

Failing a thirteen year old girl who had been taught to use a sword at an age other kids learned to ride a bike?  Who used that sword to kill something at a time when other kids were first taking off down a hill, whooping and cheering?

Failing the school?

He was in his demesne, or to be more accurate, the demesne’s essence was flowing into and filling this room, which he was in.  It was a space he was meant to be comfortable and secure in his power and he was neither.

The world around him felt very heavy.

The Atheneum Arrangement was up for discussion across two competing networks of eastern practitioner families.  Discussion was heated, to say the least.  He had established a monolith of sorts in English speaking countries, which was now extending outward.  Europe and some English and French speaking parts of Africa were on board.  Now the major networks in China and Japan were left to decide, would they sign on and contribute?

There were some on either side who didn’t want to sign on if the competitor network did, out of fear of sharing something vital, or of being soft on enemies they’d held onto for centuries now.  Some naturally worried about being left behind as the rest of the world moved on.  That, Raymond felt, would be a driving force that would eventually force them to concede ground.

That concession could take a variety of forms though.  Raymond wasn’t prepared for the demands that might follow.  Either side might try to bully or pressure him into accepting certain deals, or they might try subterfuge, asking for innocuous rules or changes that would hurt the other side.  The reason he felt he wasn’t prepared was that he needed to know too much to avoid the little conflicts or traps.  He needed to call people, to study, to ground himself in the decisions being made.  There was another chance, that they might set up a competitor.  Different rules, different culture, safeguards, possible censorship.  He might even welcome that outcome, even if it came with summoned assassins and deleterious practices aiming to weaken his hold or distract him.  At least it would ease up the expectations.

If this worked out then it might be one of the first steps toward potential truce.  The chance of that was slim but impossible to ignore.  If it didn’t, fresh conflict could spill out that would be like a beach extending to either horizon, where every grain of sand resembled what had happened here at the Blue Heron, with notable people dead and lesser relationships shattered.

So he watched as carefully as he could, informed himself where he could, and other individuals and powers all around the world watched him with eyes as keen as a hawk’s, ready to pounce on him or lay blame at his feet.

That was one of four things he knew he should be paying attention to when it came to the Arrangement.  This wasn’t a deal he had sought or directly provoked.  He hadn’t set out with international truce as a goal.  He’d made a digital marketplace for spellbooks and with aggregated, free-access knowledge and resources, and the security required to protect that kind of power.  The rest of the world had shifted its footing in response, had been forced to have conversations about what this new dimension of practice and discussion of practice meant.  Heads of families would make decisions about the digital bookshelf and potentially lose or gain position and power depending on whether those decisions were right or wrong.  Some of the conversations and decisions would lead to wars, like they might do with the decision being made in the East.

Gold Garden was the leading online marketplace for magic items, tools, and components for things such as alchemy or dollmaking.  He wasn’t the only one, but virtually everyone who paid attention and who had reasons to want to do their business securely had recognized that Raymond’s implementation was strongest.  His implementation was secure, his couriers autonomous and efficient.  The only orders that Raymond facilitated that didn’t reach the destination failed to reach their destination because of user error.

As he sat here, dwelling on the weight on his shoulders, he knew that there were people working against him, trying to reach out to the courier system he’d developed to corrupt it.  At the first hint of their success, there would be international powers calling or making their visits to express their extreme displeasure to Raymond.  There was a chance he wouldn’t be alive when they ended the conversation.

One of his apprentices was working on the Gold Garden.  Raymond had vetted the two people working for that apprentice.  Raymond had one or two hours he could devote to the issue when other things didn’t leap forward in priority, his apprentice Gavin had maybe ten or so, the lesser apprentices were similar.  Ten or so hours each.  Thirty to thirty-two cumulative hours put toward the problem and the forces arranged against them.  It sounded like a fair amount, but there were over a dozen groups who made Gold Garden their top priority.  They had many more people working around the clock, some even sleepless, looking for cracks, for weaknesses, for ways to attack.  Every day, at least one group would find something, or they’d restructure, change the tilt of their attack.  Form alliances with other groups, share knowledge…

That was an afternoon project that had taken off.  By natural talent and the luck of having the right resources on hand, he’d found a niche, capitalized on it, and now a little over a decade later it demanded its share of his time and focus.  A ten pound weight wedged in between skull and brain, pressing, pressing, pressing, weighing him down.  He couldn’t get away from it, couldn’t end it, couldn’t defer responsibility because that would get him and people he cared about dead.

The Black Box was different, a warning system for threats and problems.  People recognized the need for it, but they wanted no part of it.  The job was thankless, but necessary.  It cost more than it paid, and demanded its own share of time.  Areas across the world could be marked as no-go zones, traps, or areas where an Other was finding its foothold.  Practitioners could log in and share what they knew, share short-form information.  Something between a travel guide, a weather forecast, and an emergency dispatch system.

It cost him nearly six thousand dollars a day to maintain the Black Box network.  The system had to work when internet and phone didn’t, it needed security to allow for confidential reports, and it needed to host the data.

If he shut it down or walked away then people would die.  They would die in awful ways, and some might not even get that mercy of dying, instead falling to some place or into the hands of some Other or hostile Practitioner who would make them suffer indefinitely.

It wasn’t a ten pound weight in the back of his mind, nor a knife at his throat like the Arrangement was, but a post-it on the fridge, so to speak.  A reminder that yes, this too required attention, minor as it could feel in the scope of everything else, minor as it was, as something that was very easy to ignore at times when other things weren’t.  It was easy, when rushed, to overlook that thing that needed reminding about, even if the notes were in prominent places.

He might have Zed take that project over, in one to three years.  Zed liked helping people.  Zed needed more training, more technomancy ability, more tools to know how to defeat those who’d destroy the Black Box, because it made it harder for them to prey on people.  Zed needed… maybe whatever it was he was getting out of Kennet right now.  To figure out what it meant to help.  To solidify his Self in that framework.  Ray feared that would come with a loss of Zed’s ability to smile, so recently earned after his last struggle with Self.  A loss of the style and schtick, as he picked up the tools he needed to be a capable technomancer instead of a technomancer with a theme.

But that was one to three years before Zed was ready, in terms of experience and Self, and in terms of his ability to bear the burden.  One to three years before Raymond could let that go.  Untethering himself from this thing he’d done out of a need to do something good, after Hector, that he now couldn’t put down or put aside anymore because people depended so much on it.

And in the meantime, with all of that pressing in, weighing, pressuring, or even almost seeming to try to avoid his focus, he had to deal with McCauleigh.  With a host of students.

Because if he didn’t, who would?

Was he even making a difference?  Was it worth it?

You’re really bad at this, McCauleigh had said.

“Judah,” he said, leaning back in the chair, eyes closed, a bit of his intent pushed toward the phone.

The phone rang.

“Ray?” was the reply, filling the space.  Judah, his apprentice.

“I’m going to need help with the Arrangement.  How soon can you untangle yourself from what you’re doing?”

“I’m doing lots of things, Ray,” Judah replied.  “I don’t think I can extricate myself from these things I’m working on right now.”

“Then I need you to devote some time to the Arrangement,” Raymond said.  “Remain un-extricated while you’re at it if you have to.”

“It’s not that easy,’ Judah said.

“No, I know it isn’t.  I waited this long to call because I knew how hard it would be for you to give me what I’m asking for.”

“Are the other apprentices alive, Ray?  Did Zed die?”

“No.  No.  Zed’s got his own entanglement.  He’s working on things closer to home.  And Zed can’t help with the arrangement yet.  He’s not equipped.”

“I’m not trying to push the work on Zed.  I’m trying to find out why you’re calling now.  Are you okay?”

Ah.  Judah was thinking of the period after Hector had passed.

“I’m tired, Judah.  I’m tired enough I could make mistakes.  Ones we can’t afford.”

The silence lingered.

Each of Raymond’s apprentices had been a reflection of who he was at different times in his life.  Hector, Gavin, Judah, Zoe, Zed.  He thought of the last two as distinct because they were.  He couldn’t erase or redefine Zoe, quite, because that face and name were so tied into that specific, difficult period of time, even if she was dead, in a very different sense than Hector was.

Judah reflected a time that everything had been taken off.  Aspirational, intense, focused to a point of… of ignoring things that mattered.  He’d created Judah as Judah was today and in a way Judah’s reluctance here reflected Raymond’s behavior around the time Hector had found his anger at Raymond.

Raymond broke the silence.  “What are the projects?”

“Something’s dwelling in the hospital computer systems here.  The sort of thing you, me, maybe Gavin, we’re in the ten people in the world that could handle it.  I’ve got the living digital pathway that I really need to keep a close eye on, I’ve heard whispers of a Gremlin King, uhhh, and at the risk of weakening my argument, I’ve been helping a group that’s trying to take down this gang that’s operating local brothels, really awful ones, there’s a woman in that vigilante group…”

“Ahh.”

“The help I’m giving is minor.  This isn’t international, this isn’t a problem on the big scale we sometimes operate on, I’ll admit that.  But they’re not Aware or Awakened, I’ve gotta be cagey about the practice stuff or exactly how it is I’m helping, makes it hard to earn trust.  If I just drop contact, or shift my focus away, or if I don’t help when she decides she’ll extend that trust a little further and ask… that’s probably the last of it.  She’ll move on.”

“I understand, Judah.”

“It’s not a fair fight as is.  The gang leader has someone whispering in their ear.  I think it’s a practitioner.  A priest or a caller of something.  If I butt in, I risk scaring away the people who need my help, or offending them.  Creepy guy who shows up in times of need, to give help without explaining how, that shit doesn’t really work to begin with, but if I’m doing it unasked for?  Or clumsily?  Nah.”

Raymond thought of Charles. Charles had held a similar role.

“I do hear you, Judah.”

“I’m barely sleeping as is.  When I do have the time to sleep, I’m too wired.  I’ve been drinking to knock myself out.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Easier said than done.  Can you put up with being a bit more tired, Ray?”

“I’m going to send you some things.  Haunt them and slow them down, Judah.  Or distract the Gremlin King with some technomantic nuisances.  Make the time.  You don’t have to return that to me.  Keep it, then use the time it helps save to get some rest.”

“It’s not that simple.  None of it’s that simple, Ray.”

“I’m also going to send you the records and information on what I need help with.  The two major factions in Asia are looking at the Arrangement.  You’ve been over there, help me get my head around this.  I’ll want you beside me and advising me when they make their offer, or try to set conditions on an Eastern implementation of it.  Could be this week, could be two months from now.”

“I don’t have the time, Ray.”

“Make it.  I’m sorry, but I gave you time to travel, to set up your relays, to make contacts, I helped fund that time-”

“For reasons you’re conveniently ignoring right now.”

He could be so argumentative.

“-And you promised me more help later.  You seem to think you have the time to block out the workshop at the Blue Heron for late January of next year, you’re using it in storage-”

“I was thinking about canceling that, actually.  To focus more on what’s going on here.”

“Do you want to cancel it?”

“No, but I was thinking about it.”

“You asked for time to find yourself, you said you’d pay me back after.  I’m saying this is the time to pay me back.”

“Fine.”  Judah hung up.

Every interaction with Judah was like this.  He’d been the right apprentice for a specific time and place, but he’d been jilted when Raymond’s focus had shifted to Hector.  The offer for travel and a bit of escape from things had been an attempt at reconciliation, and it had become a rope.  If Raymond gave Judah slack or gave anything, it was taken, but there was never any slack in return.  Judah did good work out in the world, which made it harder, always filled his time so there was always too much on his plate, making it harder still.

Until Raymond had to be the bad guy when it came to demanding his apprentice be an apprentice, and that he give something back to Raymond for the time devoted to educating and enabling him.

All the more bitter because Raymond had been just that, when he’d been married.

“Crowe,” he said, to the empty room.  When the phone didn’t immediately ring, he added, “Maurice.”

The phone rang.  Raymond stood, and the coffee table in the center of the office rose with him, so the industrial size coffee mug found his hand as he reached for it.

“Raymond.  It’s been a while.”

“Thought I’d call.  How are you?  How are the children?”

“Children are well.  I’m well.  The Crowes are…” Maurice clicked his tongue.  “We get by.  Luisa said to pass on some pleasantries to you, last time I talked to her.  She’s well.”

“You have a family, you’re getting by, that’s,” Raymond paused, “Enviable, I suppose.”

“How are your children?” Maurice asked.

“I-” Raymond froze, not sure how to answer.  Hector was the only-

“At the school?”

“Oh.  Finding their equilibrium.  I’m not so good at this.  Children.”

“I keep hearing word about what you’re up to.  Text publishers wanting to establish a contract with the Atheneum, Gold Garden expanding tentatively to Fae markets…”

“I forgot about that last one.  That was a month ago, in the midst of other chaos.”

“That’s not the kind of arrangement you want to forget about, Raymond.”

“No.  Mostly I’m trying to keep these metaphorical dragons I hatched from devouring the world.  Or me.”

“One black, one gold, one made of paper?”

“More or less,” Raymond said.

“The last time you called me was to sound me out about the position at the Blue Heron.  Don’t tell me Abraham followed after Alexander and Larry.  Don’t ask me to be the fourth, Raymond.  Four is an unlucky number in some places.”

“He preferred Lawrence, the last few years.  No, Musser’s out there.  He’s left the Blue Heron in my hands.  I picked him because I thought you’d stick your nose into things, but he’s gone and stuck his nose into the same things.”

“Is that so?”

“Reid got hurt.  I think I’m glad I didn’t choose you.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Charles.  Abrams,” Raymond said.  He washed out the coffee cup, speaking to the empty room.  “He did something monstrous.  Tried to make something aimed at us.  A test.  I think you and Luisa would have passed.  I think I would have failed.”

“He’s still forsworn.  I reach for the idea of him and…”

“Yes.”

“Making sure.  He only tried?”

“He created something else instead.  It was bad, you probably caught wind of it at some point.  I have him in custody.”

“Why are you calling, Raymond?”

The abrupt question was like he’d hit a wall.  Like he’d brought something to Maurice that Maurice didn’t want.  Avoided.

Why had he called?

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“I’m sitting in my garden, the sun is shining.  My four year old niece is annoying my eight year old son because she wants to be with him constantly.  He’s going back to school next week.  I’m watching my niece while my sister shops with her friend.”

“No worldly burdens on your shoulders?”

“The children count, don’t you think?”

I’d argue the distinction, but I have no grounds.  I had that burden and it cracked like an egg on the ground, never to be put back together again.

The silence lingered a note too long.

“What do you need, Raymond?” Maurice asked.

“Would you teach?  Full time?”

“Under Musser?”

“I know you have concerns, you have people you don’t want to work with, people you wouldn’t want to have in the school if you were headmaster.  If you taught, the decision wouldn’t be yours, but you’d have a voice.  That could make accepting the edge cases more palatable, if the responsibility is off your head, leaving you influence to veto the ones who’d be an issue.”

“How on Earth have you taken your work to the international stage if you’re this bad at making an offer, Raymond?”

“I didn’t take it anywhere.  Like I said, they’re dragons I hatched and I’m not strong enough to slay them, or to face the consequences of the slaying.  They extend long necks and shadows where they will and I simply- I try to make them a positive force.”

“I don’t think I’m going to say yes to your offer.  I can’t imagine myself teaching under Abraham Musser.”

“It’s Musser, me, and Durocher as the primary staff.  If these were bogeymen we were corralling in this institution, then having Musser for the outlook, Durocher for the power, and me to maintain the fences would be well and good.  But they’re youths.  They’re vulnerable.  They need this place to be- to be- some place that pulls them closer to center.  Softens the edges, gives them a dose of normal.  I thought Musser might’ve eased down after Lawrence got sent down to the kitchens.”

“You’re asking me to look Musser in the eye every day, knowing how he operates and what he brings to our world.  You’re asking me to move away from family, from good things I’ve made here, take attention away from my children, all for the sake of the children of others?”

“I had to ask.  For the children.”

“I think I have to say no.”

“Would Luisa be willing, do you think?  We need people with heart, with the right perspectives.”

“Then be that person, Raymond.”

“I try, but apparently I’m bad at that.”

“Be better.”

Raymond fell silent.  Soapy water with traces of coffee grind in the bubbles dripped from the cup and into the sink.

“I’ll talk to Luisa,” Maurice conceded.

“Thank you,” Raymond said.

“I don’t know what it’s like to wrangle the metaphorical dragons you’re trying to wrangle.  But you do good for the world.”

He rinsed the cup.  The sound didn’t reach the phone call.

“You could ask for help,” Maurice said.  “Apprentices?”

“If they know nothing about the practice, it’s more work today for someone who might not even want to work with me tomorrow.  I don’t have it in me to do much more work day to day.  But if they know something about the practice, technomancy in particular-”

“They come with other loyalties, other motivations.”

“Yes.  Alexander vetted four prospects for me, a year or two ago.  One wanted to steal everything I had for their family, one would have tried to kill me, and two more were spies, one for a foreign group, another for a competitor.  It’s too hard to find good help, especially when practitioners are rare to begin with.”

“Find the ones you can get by accident, like Zoe.”

“Zed.”

“She changed it?”

“He.  And yes, I’d take the happy accidents, especially with how well Zed is turning out, tolerable to be around-”

“Imagine.  And he tolerates you?”

“Yes.  But even the ones we find by accident can be dangerous.   In the past while I’ve seen a clockwork rabbit masquerading as a practitioner, trying to get into my good graces.  Another spy pretending to be someone in distress.  Fishing.  Very few people are genuine or trustworthy.  I can’t leave my practice vulnerable to these outside agents.  I don’t have Alexander to help me vet anymore.  I can’t leave the school unattended.  I ignored Charles for too long and look how that turned out.”

“I thought Charles was one of the okay ones,” Maurice said.  “Crossed lines, learned a lesson, backed off.”

“Alexander happened.”

“Mm hmmm.  You do know Musser will happen too?  Sooner or later?  It’s not so different.”

Raymond nodded, almost to himself.

“Listen, sorry to cut it short-”

“No, go.”

“I’ve got a crying four year old with an elbow that needs a kiss.  I’ll talk to Luisa.”

“Bye, Maurice.  Thanks for the ear.”

“Yeah.  I’d say we should meet, have drinks, but you’d say you don’t have the time, wouldn’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“And I don’t want to, if I’m honest.” Maurice said.  “Too easy to get pulled in.”

“Bye, then, Maurice.”

“Bye Raymond.”

The call ended.

He rinsed the cup off, dried it with a hand towel, then put it away.

Sensing his desire for coffee, the kitchen space had already set up the machine, keeping it quiet so it wouldn’t intrude on the phone call.  He poured out a mug of the fresh brew, then after a pause, he got another.

He’d burned a bridge, taking Musser.  Maurice Crowe had been pleasant, friendly, and fair, but the embers of that burned bridge were clearly still warm.

The door opened for him and closed behind him.

Across the wide hallway, Nicolette stood by the chair where Seth was sitting.  The study nook was a little space with shelves on both sides, a blue-tinted window with a flying heron engraved in it behind him.  It was a spot for reading in while also lightly socializing, a chance for senior students to get out of their rooms or cozy up somewhere on rainy days, so they could be less cooped up.  A similar nook with a table to keep food and drink on was a little bit further down the hall.  Junior students had an indoor dining room that served a similar purpose in the east wing.

Seth had one shoe propped up on the seat, arms around his long leg.  Grit from the shoe had smudged the cushion.  He looked tired.  Older.  His red-brown hair was longer, in a way that stuck up in places because it was too long to be mostly tidy on its own, too short to really go along with the direction the comb tried to stick it.

“Is that for me?” Nicolette asked, pointing.

Ray looked down at the mug.  “No.  I didn’t expect to see you out here.  I thought you’d be getting dinner.  If you want I can go back to my office, get you some.”

“It’s fine,” Nicolette said, smiling.  “I can always ask the kitchen staff when I want a coffee.  It’s better if I don’t drink it though, makes the, uh…” She gestured at the side of her head and neck.  “Everything worse.  Herbal teas are my go-to.”

Raymond nodded.  Nicolette had come into her augury by way of head injury, leading to meningitis.  The brain infection had left her deaf in her right ear, with vision problems that necessitated glasses, and chronic pain and muscle stiffness down one side of her neck and shoulder, among other things.

“But you’re doing alright?” Raymond asked.

“Yep.  Working, Avery Kelly paid me for helping her with a deal earlier today.  More than my going rate, as a thank-you for helping her out in the past.  That was nice of her.  Sounds like Zed’s okay.”

“Good.  You let me know if you need anything, okay?  I don’t have a lot of time, but I have contacts and resources to spare.”

“Thank you, Raymond.”

“How are you, Seth?”

Seth rolled his head to one side and gave Raymond a look, like he was in disbelief.  Maybe at the fact Raymond had asked at all.  Maybe at the notion that anything could be anything but miserable.  “Awful,” Seth replied.

Nicolette added, “Trying to get Seth out more.  Sitting in the sun, at least, with a book or something.  Somewhere people might actually see him to know he’s alive.”

“They don’t even look me in the eye,” Seth said.  “They don’t want to think about how, if they make one mistake, they could end up like me, and I’m a big, gawky reminder.”

“You had some company earlier,” Nicolette said.  “Who was it?”

“Kass Knox,” Seth replied.  “I think she had a crush on me, I don’t think she does anymore.  Never went anywhere, don’t worry.”

“Three or four years younger, about?” Nicolette asked.

“Didn’t go anywhere, don’t worry.  She’s fat.”

The awkward line put a pause on all conversation.

Was this what they wrote about, when describing the forsworn as offputting? Ray wondered.  He hadn’t, despite his proximity to Alexander, interacted with many.  Or was that Seth as he’d always been, civility and reasons to pretend pared away?

“You weren’t mean to her?” Nicolette asked.

Seth shrugged.

“Do I need to talk to her, smooth anything over?” Nicolette asked.  “I know being forsworn means bad karma, and people giving you less of a benefit of a doubt.”

“Nah,” he replied.  “I think she wanted to talk so she could get over stuff.  She’d be embarrassed if you said anything.”

“Okay,” Nicolette said.

“The school should be a mostly safe place for you.  Protected ground,” Raymond said, changing the subject.  “We can keep the nightmares at bay for the most part, goblins away, spirits should be neutral at worst.”

“TV and internet are working okay since the last stuff you did,” Nicolette said.  “Sometimes the forces further away manage to sling a bit of disruption his way, but it’s uh… step up, right Seth?”

“Yeah,” Seth said, with a tone more like he was disagreeing.  “They still time it to cut out on the best moments.”

“We can work on that, and you should let me know if there’s something else you need or if other things are getting past the protections,” Raymond said.  “There should be a quiet period between the end of the summer semester and the start of the fall one, bit of a long weekend.  Things will be a bit easier then.”

“You talk to me like you don’t know me,” Seth said.  “Like I haven’t been a student here for years.”

“It’s not that,” Raymond said.  “I wasn’t here for years.  I wasn’t sure how long Alexander kept you around.”

“Alexander the Asshole,” Seth muttered.  “That asshole.”

“For the long term, I don’t know if you have plans, Nicolette…” Ray started, turning from Seth and the vicious bitterness to Nicolette.

“No.  God, no.  You really went the extra mile with the protections for Seth.  It’s going to be hard to replicate them if we go elsewhere.”

“There’s the possibility he stays here,” Raymond said, looking at Seth, who didn’t make eye contact, chin stuck out a touch.  Pouting.  “Something longer-term.  Maybe getting the staff to build a separate room.  We can secure protections enough the signal doesn’t drop while watching TV.  If we can tighten the metaphorical nuts and bolts enough, the downsides should be negligible.  Keep you in good health, good food, good drink, no nightmares, no spirits hassling you, Seth?  The karmic stuff could even out a bit if you worked at it.  You could go out, for day trips.  I wouldn’t go any further or longer than that, or protections might lose their grip on you, but… there are places to go.”

Seth was silent, looking at the floor to his left instead of straight at Ray.

“That’d be great,” Nicolette said, filling in the silence.

Ray tried again.  “Maybe we could get you on staff, Seth?  Even if you can’t practice you could teach something that interests you, or help the younger kids with their homework?  Maybe the library?  New student guide? Lawrence Bristow set us up to expand, so we could have an influx coming.”

“It’s the nightmare of every schoolboy.  School neverending,” Seth replied.  “No friends, no prospects, everyone hates you all the time?”

“A lot of that can change if you make an effort,” Nicolette said. “It’s a hell of a lot better than what ninety-nine percent of forsworn get.  For a lot of them it’s the universe torturing them to death.”

“Thanks then, I guess,” Seth replied.

Ray and Nicolette exchanged a glance.

“Were you going over to dinner with Durocher?” Nicolette asked, indicating the mugs again.  Giving the conversation a way of stepping aside from Seth’s fresh bitterness.

“Charles Abrams.”

“How is he?”

“I’m sure he’d answer like Seth did.”

Nicolette nodded, then rubbed at her neck.

“Can I come?” Seth asked.

“That may be the first time in weeks you’ve actually wanted something,” Nicolette said.

“I want to see what I’m in for,” Seth said.

“I don’t think you’re in for that, Seth,” Raymond said.

“Maybe he has advice.”

“He was complicit in the manslaughter of hundreds,” Raymond said.  “He was silent about the true nature of what he set in motion, when sharing might’ve helped us stop it.”

“If he’s forsworn, then trying to stop it might be worse than doing anything else,” Seth replied.

“Maybe.  I don’t think that detail changes anything material,” Raymond replied.  “I wouldn’t call him a role model.”

“Whatever, then,” Seth said.

Nicolette gestured.  She and Raymond walked down the hall a bit, leaving Seth where he was, stuck in a chair in the study nook.

“It’s tough,” Nicolette said.  “One of the more monstrous things Alexander did.”

“It was.  You let me know what I can do, okay?  I want to be there for him.  I can’t say I won’t have other things demanding my attention, but…”

“It’s good of you, Ray.  Don’t let me keep you, by the way.  I don’t want your coffee to get cold.”

“The mugs keep it warm.  It’s fine.”

“Do you think Charles would be a good example of what not to do?” Nicolette asked.  “From what little I saw and heard…”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Raymond replied.  “But not for right now.  We can wait until the worst has blown over.  Didn’t the three girls from Kennet say they were worried about what might happen in the next short while?”

“Yeah.  They told you?”

“Zed did.”

“I- yeah.  It’s the first time Seth has shown interest in anything in a bit.  I hate saying no or shooting it down.”

“I understand.  But for now, let’s play it safe.”

“Alright.  Yeah, understood.  For the best.”

“Be sure to grab dinner.”

“I will.  Thanks for caring, Ray.  Seth!  Come on.  Dinner.”

“Do I have to?  Can I stay?”

“He has to,” Ray said, quiet.  “Don’t leave anyone unattended for the next few days, watch out for trouble.”

“Okay,” Nicolette replied, at a volume meant for Ray.  “Apparently mandatory.  You can leave the school for a bit before the winds turn against you.  Get some fresh air and minimal exercise, come on.”

“Help Nicolette keep an eye out for trouble,” Ray said.

“I don’t think I’m much good for that,” Seth said.

But he did get up.  He did walk over to Nicolette.  Past Ray.

Something in the look in his eyes, the anger, the frustration, how he looked at Ray…

Ray would try, at least.

They went east, toward the center of the school and the other wing.  Ray went west.  He went to the door to the guest teacher’s quarters, and then he waited there.  With the light sloping in from the nearby door and the sun low in the sky, a man’s shadow stretched long, across the floor in front of the door and the wall, but there was no man to cast it.

Ray waited until Nicolette and Seth were out of sight.

“Move aside,” he murmured.

The shadow moved.  Something of Nicolette’s.  It was overwrought, considering.  Charles was forsworn, and a sturdy lock would likely do.  If someone were to carelessly leave the door unlocked, then there was a good chance Charles’s misfortune would see the door jam instead.  Some of the protections given over to Seth would hamper that, but Ray had tweaked it to hamper Charles should Charles leave the room that had become his temporary prison cell.

He put the mugs aside, unlocked the door, then opened it.

Charles sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, television on beside him, though he didn’t watch it.  The room was clean, but had the heavy smell of the man inside.  It wasn’t that Charles stank, but the window was closed, and the whoosh of air from the vents wasn’t enough to clear the room of the presence of the man on the end of the bed.  It was the smell of a room that was far too lived in.

Ray intruded into the space.  He set the mug down, then retreated back toward the door.  With a gesture of his hand, he had the Other that acted as jailor move across the span of the open door, just behind him.

Seeing Charles would give Seth pause, Ray had to imagine.  Especially if Seth remembered seeing Charles once back in the day, when he’d been five or six, when there was a chance Alexander could have had Charles around with the rest of the family.  The man had once had hair, had once had gentle eyes.  He looked like someone who had endured some small mixture of sandstorm, drenching rain, and imprisonment in his own filth, none specific, none for any length of time that’d leave its own individual mark, but… worn out.  A bit parched, a bit damp, a bit washed out, colors and the redness of scars or broken veins settled into the crevices.  If a celebrity actor could look twenty years younger than they were with the right food, quality of life, and personal attention from trainers and nutrition experts, then Charles had gone the opposite direction.

His real worry was that Seth would see this and lose heart.  That something might happen that distracted them all.

Charles took the coffee.  He hunched over it, inhaling the smell of it.

“Are you comfortable?” Ray asked.

“Yes.  It’s better living than what they gave me.  The Others tried, I think.  They extended protections, they said words to the spirits, they only asked something of me once a year or so.  For me to hold a sickness or a curse.  But there were holes in the walls they put up around me to protect me.  You’re better at this.”

“I don’t want to be cruel.”

“Yet I’m imprisoned for life, am I?”

“I think it might be for the best.  We’re finishing the new building.  We could move you there already.  But for now I want you to stay close, where I can keep an eye on things.”

Charles took a drink of the coffee.  “The Others couldn’t get the coffee right.  That was one of the things that slipped past the defenses.  The cream would spoil, or the one cup would somehow end up too bitter, the other cup fine.  It would be too cold, or the paper sleeve around the cup would tear and I’d drop the one cup that would’ve been fine.”

“Were they kind to you?  Fair?”

“Yes.  Better than a lot would be.”

“And those three girls?”

Charles raised his eyes, looking at Ray for the first time since Ray had come in.  He’d once had such kind eyes.  “I worry about what that Faerie will do to them.  I have since May first.  The day they awoke.  I tried to tell them no.”

“Remember that joke Alexander would tell when he’d been drinking?  A practitioner should devote twenty percent of their time to their studies, twenty percent of their time to watching their words, twenty percent of their time to being wary of Fae, twenty percent of their time to family, twenty percent to being wary of Fae… no wait, I might’ve got it wrong.  How did he say it?”

Charles smiled down into the coffee mug. “The moment you glanced aside, there’d be a cheap illusion of some fae in your peripheral vision, scaring the shit out of you.  The more of an ass you made of yourself falling out of your chair, the better.  Then the punchline.”

“Have to spend more time than that worrying about the fae.  I’ll spare you the cheap illusion, Charles.  I don’t want to make you spill your coffee.”

“Thank you,” Charles said.  “I would.”

“There’s another boy that got forsworn on campus.”

“Seth.”

“Yeah.  He wanted to talk to you.  I said no, for now.  But I wonder what you would have told him.”

“I’d wonder out loud, I think.  You kept working with him when you knew what he did to me.  For a good while.”

“Your successors, if I can call them that, had their turn with me over that point.”

“What did you tell them?  Were they pretty words, Ray?  Did you make them feel better?”

Ray swished his coffee in the cup, bringing the liquid to the rim, dangerously close to spilling back on his fingers.  He watched it turn, bubbles spiraling.  “I didn’t have a good answer.  I’ve thought about it, though.  I think me being here might have helped.  I’m not perfect.  Lucy Ellingson reminded me of that.  Another student told me I’m pretty bad at this and it’s hard to voice an argument to the contrary.  But I think it would’ve been a worse school for the students if I wasn’t here.  The world at least has more tools and more room to move forward with the tools I’ve built.”

“Look me in the eye, Raymond, and say all that again?” Charles asked, quiet.

Ray looked up from the cup and over at Charles.

He dropped his eyes and sighed.

“You could have at least learned from it and saved the boy Seth from being forsworn.”

“Yes, maybe I could have.  I know I’m falling back on excuses, but I don’t think anyone short of Gavin, Judah, some of my enemies, and Alexander ever truly understood how precarious my current position is.  Gavin, bless his heart, is naive like I was when I was his age, Judah is too callous to really care or want to help me, my enemies only know that information so they can use it against me, and Alexander is dead.  When your position is this shaky, it means you’re slow to move, slow to react.”

“You had ten years to realize the world was better off without Alexander in it.”

“Removing him would have collapsed the ever-growing house of cards I’ve found myself managing.  There are powers out there watching me, finger over the trigger, diagrams to summon things to send after me, requiring only one diacritic mark.”

“You actually have the power to change the world and the willingness to… you don’t want to use it.  I think you would’ve chickened out if it was about using it.   And you’re smart enough to know that trying to exploit it would see those same powers pull the trigger, add that diacritic mark.  No, you just hold onto that power to change things.  Control it where you can.”

“Maybe you do understand it.”

“Oh, I do,” Charles replied.  “I came close, you know.  I could have changed so much.  I was a matter of steps away.  Difference is, what the hell do I care if I exploit it and people come to destroy me?  I’m doomed as it is.”

“I’m told you would’ve aimed it at me.”

Charles nodded, then sipped the coffee he’d been given.

“Maybe we’ll postpone that discussion between you and Seth, to be safe,” Ray said.

“Do you think it’s any different for him?  Do you think he’d act any differently, if he had the chance?  Maybe give it a few more years to ferment, but if he had the shot at doing something big?  Do you think he wouldn’t spit in your face for seeing how deeply miserable he is and embracing the practice instead?  You could have saved him, Ray.”

“Maybe-” Ray started.  He shook his head a little.  “What if I couldn’t have?  What if the excuse is legitimate?  Maybe, instead of flailing, looking for answers, it’s better to be there and give support instead?”

“You’re thinking of Hector.”

“Don’t- let’s leave that alone, Charles.”

“The lessons he taught you?  It wasn’t supposed to be that you’re supposed to be there for your kid in his time of need.  You looking for answers wasn’t the damn problem.”

Ray’s phone rang.

“It was that you fucking ran, Sunshine.  If you went looking for answers and that was what you were really trying to do, then I think he would’ve forgiven you in the end.  The problem was that you fucking left because you refused to face inconvenient reality.”

The phone rang again.

“You turned to magic and your digital landscapes to escape the reality in front of your face, you left him alone, and then you did the exact same fucking thing with Seth Belanger when you ignored the inconvenient reality that Alexander was the worst sort of monster.”

The phone rang a third time.  Raymond remained very still.

“Answer your fucking phone, Sunshine.”

“What I did, every step of the way, my intentions were good.”

“And how do you like where you’ve ended up, Ray?”

The phone started its next ring.

Charles rose to his feet, roaring, “Answer your fucking-!”

Raymond thrust the phone toward Charles, pressing the button at the same time.  Halfway between doing the action and making a ‘stop’ gesture.

Coffee splashed on the floor from Charles’ mug.

“Yes?” Raymond asked.

Her voice sounded so small in his ear, coming from the phone, after the sheer noise of the recent words in this room.  “It’s Nicolette Belanger calling.  The students are unsettled.”

Charles stood there, barely keeping more coffee from slopping out of the mug in one hand, breathing hard.

Raymond’s heart pounded like he’d just run a marathon he hadn’t been prepared to run.  He felt like it might break from the force of each movement.

“Unsettled?” he asked, keeping his voice level.

“I’m trying to figure out why, but I can use my Sight and there’s discord.  There’s anxiety.  Half the students don’t know what’s going on, the other half, a little less than half, they’re keeping something secret.”

“See what you can find out.  Is Durocher there?”

“This isn’t something she’s good at, unless you want her to try scaring the truth out of a student?”

Raymond gestured, having the omen stand down, then stepped out into the hall.  He stood, facing Charles through the open door.

“I’d worry the student in question wouldn’t recover from that.  Have her look out for trouble, she can call something to ward against intruders that try to breach the school’s defenses.”

Charles set his mug down with a clatter, then seated himself on the corner of the bed.  Glaring.

There were people who broke their knee or hurt their neck, and for the rest of their lives, it would ache, it would protest every pressure on that joint, every movement.  Nicolette experienced something like that with her neck pain, and regular headaches.

Raymond felt it with the glare.  That look had wounded him once, and he would forever be weak against it.

“I’m coming your way,” Ray said, on the phone.

“Okay,” Nicolette said.

“Bring me dinner?” Charles asked.

Raymond shut the door firmly, then locked it.  He had the omen stand guard, then, after a moment’s deliberation, he pulled out his phone and opened up a submenu, akin to the speed dial.

The code ran, the interior lights in the hallway flickered, and the door vanished from the wall in the midst of the flickering of the lights.  The hallway dipped into darkness and when the eyes adjusted the door wasn’t there anymore.  There was only painted over stonework.

He ran other routines.  Figures stepped out from around the corner.  Others he’d found in the digital wilderness.  Brutes, tricksters.

He arranged them on the two visible walls, a half-circle of guards.

He continued to click buttons on his flip phone to select from the options while he strode away from the scene.

Shortcut.  He had his demesne do some of the legwork.

He entered his room, pushing the door open, and stepped out into the outdoors, near the canopy tent where students were eating their meals.

He could see it.  The fact they were unsettled.  The fact that battle lines seemed to be drawn again.  Students clustered by family allegiance more than they did by age, like they might do when times were good.

“What’s happening?” Raymond asked.

“I wish I knew.  Melody?”

Melody Kierstaad.  Not one of the stronger practitioners.  Alexander had seen promise in her.  The girl hesitated.

“I don’t want to make enemies.”

“Show Ray what I found in your pocket,” Nicolette said.

Melody hesitated.

Nicolette advanced, and Melody remained still, letting Nicolette reach into the side pocket of the top she wore over her t-shirt, almost a jacket.  Nicolette pulled out a slip of paper, while Melody did nothing.  She handed it to Raymond.

Destroy after reading.
To remove Musser from his position, be at the library at seven ten.

“Are they all the same?”

“I did a quick read for matches by similarity.  No.  But there are other papers.  They were given to sixteen of the forty-four students still on campus.”

“Sixteen papers with different instructions?”

“If they were all the same, we could get in front of it,” Durocher said, walking over.  “I put something in charge of watching over the campus.”

“What something?”

“Call it a metaphorical guard dog.  I’m glad I realized you were calling help.  It almost came after you, whatever you were doing in the west wing,” Durocher said, smiling.  “It almost read what you were doing as a summoning of intruders.”

“Were you?” Nicolette asked, quick.  “Ray?”

“Yes.  Guards for Charles,” Ray said.

“Okay.”

Others were approaching.  The senior students.  Estrella, Amine, Ulysse, Eloise, and Hadley.  The others had left, to handle family business, or to go to Kennet.  A lot of other students hung back, tense, like they were waiting to see what was happening.

“They didn’t get papers,” Nicolette said.  “If they did they hid it from me very well.”

“I didn’t get papers,” Estrella said.  “I wouldn’t listen to what was written if I had.”

She pitched her voice a certain way at the end.  It carried to the various students present.

Raymond turned, looking at the gathered students.  “I’m going to ask all of you to go to your dormitory rooms, in an orderly fashion.  We are treating this as an attack on the school.  You are to go to your rooms, you are not to practice until you get further say-so.  Miss Durocher has summoned something that may make you regret trying.  This is to keep you safe and to keep the peace.”

“We haven’t eaten yet,” Damaryon Steyn called out.

The boy was tense.  Ray was not the best at reading people, but…

He didn’t want to let go of what he’d been given.  A chance to change things.  Even if the boy risked immolating himself in the process.

“Your rooms, now,” Durocher pronounced.

Students moved.  There were no more protests.

Raymond walked with the head of the body of students, eyes scanning, searching both the student body and the area surrounding the school for trouble.  He looked for and found Seth, hanging back, not a student who could go running back to his dormitory, but not quite a senior student either.  He beckoned Seth closer, and Seth reluctantly obeyed, moving to the fringes of the group of older students.

They had to move inside to guide the students.

Students were ushered into the dormitory rooms.  Doors were closed.

Each and every one of them could be a problem.

Eloise stood in the bathroom with Talia Graubard while she quickly went to the bathroom, then followed her as she ran to her room.  The last of the stragglers.  The door closed.

“Nicolette-”

Nicolette held up a finger.  Her phone was buzzing.  She pressed it to her ear.

“Durocher, we have contact information for Tanner, Chase, and Wye.  Can you reach out?  I would, but I’d rather keep my eyes open.  We can give them permission to scry into the Blue Heron.”

“Hello?” Nicolette asked.

“I don’t keep a phone on me,” Durocher said.

Eloise handed Durocher her phone.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nicolette said.

“Do you remember the numbers?” he asked.

“I remember most things.”

“She did something?” Nicolette asked.

Raymond’s head turned.

All conversation stopped.  Durocher stepped away, dialing.

The pause as the person on the other end talked was too long.

“It is where Charles is,” Nicolette said, turning around to look Ray in the eyes.  “He’s secure though.  Do you think Edith passed on information about the Blue Heron to the Faerie you’re worried about?”

“Oh that’s going to be a thing,” Estrella whispered.

Nicolette pressed a finger to her lips.

“That explains a lot, about the stuff that’s going on,” Nicolette said.  “Okay.  Okay, bye.”

“Charles Abrams,” Raymond said.

“Okay guys,” Nicolette said.  “We have one Faerie at large, dark fall court, immature, but ambitious, she’s been planning this.  We are mid-Faerie scheme.  She is accompanied or enabled by a doppleganger-”

“Shit,” Hadley said.

“Copies groups, would be appearing to be a generic Blue Heron student.  I didn’t see any outside the ones I know.  But if you see one at a distance and they’re not in their dorm, act.”

Estrella pulled a necklace off.  “Silver chain.  Stains the skin, but worth having.  Mr. Sunshine, your hand?”

He put it out.

She ran the chain hard against the back of his hand.  It scraped and drew blood but did little else.

Durocher followed, putting her hand out.  Estrella did it twice.

“Do yourself,” Durocher said.  “I know you were wearing it, but I want to see it matter.”

Estrella put her arm out, chain draped over her wrist.  Durocher took hold of both hands and raked the back of her arm.  Estrella caught the chain as the motion ended, then turned to Eloise.

“I have them on the phone,” Durocher told Ray.

“I am giving them full permission to scry into the campus.  I think, your summoning, they shouldn’t send any messengers or flying eyes, but let’s get some eyes on the campus itself.  More instructions to follow.”

Durocher nodded.

“This is unhygenic,” Eloise said, putting her hand out.  The chain ran against skin.  “Ow.”

Ulysse, Amine, Hadley.

Ray went to use his glasses, then paused as he saw the reflection in the corner of the red-tinted lenses.

“Seth,” he said.

Estrella stepped toward Seth.  Seth took a step back.

Estrella lunged, with a ferocity that didn’t suit her, shoving Seth against the blue-tinted glass double doors that served as the exit from the east wing.  He banged hard against the glass.

Then she tore him in half.  Seth broke away into murky dust and sticks that were tied into a rough human shape.

“Get back!” Estrella called out.

They backed away from the rolling cloud of dust.

“Get the door,” Durocher said.  “I could, but-”

“Open,” Raymond said.

The door opened behind Estrella.

Durocher moved her arm with enough force that veins stood out on the surface.  The wind rushed down the hall, toward the door, and rolled outside.  The twigs followed.  Estrella leaned against the metal bar that separated the two glass doors.

“There was a curse buried in that Fetch,” Nicolette said.

“I did notice,” Estrella said.  She very gingerly shifted her footing, then winced.  “I might not be very useful to you all.  I don’t know the particulars, but I get the feeling I might break apart into a bundle of sticks if I’m not gentle with myself.  I can deal with it, but not in the next fifteen minutes.”

Ray looked over as Nicolette hurried a few rooms down the hallway, then knocked on a door.

“Kass,” Nicolette said.  “Did you talk to Seth about an hour ago?”

Ray didn’t hear the reply.

“If you’ll allow me?” Ulysse asked Estrella.  “And if my fiancee will be so gracious?”

“Grace extended, sir,” Eloise said.

Estrella nodded.  Ulysse stepped close and kissed her.

Orange cracks spread across Estrella, glowing like something red hot was inside her.

The curse fell away as if she’d been covered in the finest layer of ice.  The shards hit the ground and disappeared in puffs of smoke.

“Thank you,” Estrella said, fanning herself.

“Now I wish I’d gotten cursed too,” Hadley said.

“Nicolette, when is the last time you were sure it was really Seth?”

“I- we walked outside, I noticed something was up. I did some readings.  He was there when I did it.  I would have seen that.”

“It’s in the nature of the forsworn to be overlooked,” Durocher said.  “Paradoxically, the karmically dead are often first to be eaten when a monster needs to pick a target, but among the last to be given attention.  It’s because attention is often earned by way of respect, and they get little.  That can be an advantage, if they want to reap the rewards from killing many monsters, or if they don’t want the scrutiny a real threat would get.”

Nicolette returned.  “Kass didn’t talk to Seth.  Someone pretended to be her to get close or he was fooled.”

“Split up,” Raymond ordered.  He looked at Durocher.  “Get them looking for Seth.  Everyone present, move in twos, don’t stray too far from one another.  I want Hadley and Amine protecting the students in this hallway.  Ulysse, Eloise, check outside, front, keep eyes on the central part of the building and front of the school.  Durocher, go with Estrella.  Straight shot down the school, to Charles’ room.  Be careful, I set guards.  Nicolette, stick by me.”

“Where to?” Nicolette asked.

“In a moment,” he said.

He flipped open his phone and selected the function.

The metal frames of his red-tinted sunglasses buzzed with power.  The signal reached them, and a kind of television static fell over everything.  The others were running, hurrying off.  Only Nicolette, Hadley, and Amine hung back, standing in the middle of the hallway.

Down the hall, a boar’s head was mounted on the wall.  The eye of the boar glitched out, artifacting surrounding it, then glowed red from a camera that was now within.  He could see through it, scanning the hallway.  Nothing unusual about the hallway they were in.

A fridge magnet in the kitchen confirmed the kitchen as clear.

Painting in the main classroom.  He looked through the eyes in the painting, briefly altering them so there were hidden cameras rigged to the painting itself.

Further down the hall.  The guards hadn’t been interfered with.

Charles’ alarm clock became one with a hidden camera inside.  Raymond watched Charles standing there.  Still there.

He adjusted settings.  Power load to the room, through wires, more power, overloading… his thumb typed out code on the phone while his eyes didn’t leave Charles Abrams.

He remembered the words Charles had said.

It felt like a rebuke, immature and childish, a spat out insult, to put power into the television until the screen began to glow even though the television was off.

The television detonated, screen blowing out, scattering material across the room., Charles threw himself back against the wall and door, one hand over his heart.  He said something, but Raymond didn’t have audio.

It was Charles, still.

He switched views.

Nothing in the school.  Outside?

A bird flew over the school.  It glitched, data shifting, pressing the bird out of reality, and the bird became a drone.

He looked through the drone’s eye, and in the corner of the drone’s view… Seth.  Seth running with a limp, close to an exterior wall of the school, holding something.  Flowers?

Nicolette slapped Raymond.

Knocking glasses from face.

The glasses didn’t touch ground before something punctured glass.  A four-inch spine serrated with thorns stabbed through the red-tinted material with enough force that they bucked in mid air, fall reversing to a two foot ascent, then a clatter as they hit ground, fragments breaking away where the material had already been broken by the spine.

Nicolette remained there, hand out, other hand bleeding a trickle of blood where her danger-sensing snake ring had bitten her.

“Thank you,” he said.  He reached for her arm and guided her toward the boy’s showers.

“If that happens again and I don’t save you, it’s not real.  It’s illusion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  His hand scrolled up the phone.  “School wide announcement.”

Feedback squealed from speakers that weren’t there.  He had some power in this place, firmly established, permission to access groundwork that had been laid, he’d done programming and setup to arrange these measures, and his demesne was extending some of his power and tools into this broader space.  “Durocher, call off Tanner and Chase.  They have anti-scrying countermeasures.  Seth is outdoors, I don’t know the exact location.  Carry on with the orders I gave you.  Non-senior students, remain in your dormitories.  Do not practice.  You may pass notes under the doors to communicate with Hadley and Amine.  There is a possible Fae and a possible doppleganger intruder.  Trust nobody, don’t be foolish.  If you’re wandering we may attack first and ask questions after.”

Through the showers, out to the back of the school.  They stepped outside.  The sun shone through the treetops, casting serrated shadows down the field.  No Seth.

He led Nicolette toward the western wing of the school.

“Undo the protections,” Nicolette said.

“Which?”

“Seth’s.  The only reason he can act this freely is that you set up protections, so the spirits wouldn’t be too unkind.”

“I can’t do that from here.”

“Where do you need to be?”

“My office.”

“I wouldn’t waste time on that.”

He nodded.

They hurried down the length of the school.  He had the means of getting inside, even though there weren’t many exits at the back of the western wing.  One led into Musser’s quarters.  He passed that.  They looped around the end of the long, rectangular building, and he scanned the trees.

He opened the doors, letting Nicolette in.  Durocher and Estrella were there.  So were the guards.

“I testify I am Raymond Sunshine.  I haven’t taken my eyes off Nicolette long enough to matter.”

“I testify, I am Marie Durocher and this is Estrella Vanderwerf.”

“Nothing?”

Durocher shook her head slowly.

“No strange glamour?” he asked Estrella.

“He was here,” Nicolette said, hand at her glasses.

“Be careful.  They took measures.”

“Believe me,” Nicolette said, “I do know.”

“Was he here before or after I nearly lost an eye, spotting him outside?”

“…before.”

“So he went outside?”

“Yes.”

“Take Estrella, go to my office.  You have permission to enter.  Desk on the left shelf of the room, same shelf that has the monitor built in.  Third down, black binder.  There are the documents about protecting the forsworn on campus.  It’ll include Seth and Charles to a lesser extent.”

“I should be able to find them,” Nicolette said.

“Destroy them.”

The two girls ran off.

Durocher and Raymond faced the door.  A number of Others stood there, tense.

He worried they’d be blindsided if he took down the defenses here, created the door again and opened it.  It’d be a perfect moment for a threat to strike, freeing Charles.

That would be a very Fae thing to do.  To let them defeat themselves.  To make the owners of a bank vault open the vault for the thieves, so to speak.

He could get eyes inside the vault, though.  He used his phone, since his glasses were gone.  He had to rewrite lines.

Durocher shifted her feet, impatient.

Charles had destroyed the alarm clock.  He’d broken the lightbulb. He’d ripped an outlet out of the wall and shorted it.  The television was destroyed, and there was no phone, of course.  That would be too dangerous to leave in the hands of someone involved in an ongoing conspiracy.

“I can’t get a good look inside.  There’s no good locations to draw on.”

Veins intensified along the sides of Durocher’s face.  He turned his head.

“What is it?”

“Drawing on my familiar’s senses… I smell dust.”

“Faerie dust?”

“Stone dust.”

He took that in.

He used his phone, rapidly canceling the measures he’d set in place.  Summons disappeared.

“Get the door next,” Durocher said, tracking what he was doing.

He skipped some summons, while she began to chant.  He backed up a healthy distance, finger clicking.

The floor of the hallway cracked, and a hook of hard flesh like scar tissue raced down the length of that crack, like a shark’s dorsal fin, but more brutish, muscled.  Floor tiles shattered and scattered, and prehensile limbs snaked out to snatch the one Other that managed to get out of the way.

The door appeared, and the beast tore it away from the frame.

It took only a second or two for the dust to clear.  Some of the dust came from inside the room.

No Charles.

No hole in the floor.  He was pretty sure that wouldn’t have worked.  The entire campus was set on a foundation of rune-inscribed stones.  Aside from the ones a goblin had tampered with during the Bristow encounter, nothing was disturbed, and they’d fixed those stones.

But the rear wall of the guest teacher quarters shared a space with Musser’s quarters.

Seth had access, still.  Somehow.  Maybe it was because he’d had access through Alexander.  Maybe because of vulnerabilities created in the Belanger-Bristow conflict.

A window had been created there and broken.

“Intruder, front of the school,” Durocher said.  “Ulysse is about to call you.”

“It might be a distraction,” Raymond said.  He held up his phone and took a picture.

There were other flowers scattered across Musser’s office.  Dark fall greenery.  Laced with curses and tricks.

“Side door,” he said, pushing against Durocher for a moment.

“Intruder at the side of the school.  My pet just cracked the foundation of the school, by the way.  I’ll tend to that after.”

“It’s not the focus,” he said.

They stepped outside.

The Kennet Witches had appeared in the parking lot, soaking wet.  Durocher’s pet had one limb reaching out of the cracked earth, barring their way.

At the west side of the campus, near the trees, some mundane goblins had been baited to test the perimeter.  The other limb reached out there.  About three hundred feet of space separated the left forelimb and the right forelimb.  Flesh rippled, teeth gnashing.  Each visible part of the beast, from claw-tip to wrist, was about as tall as the tallest part of the school.

And at the rear of the school, two running bodies.

Charles and Seth.

“Go,” Durocher said.  “I set my guard animal against any intruders, not anyone fleeing.  I’ll hold it back, you get them.”

“Call the others!”

Durocher screamed, and it was the kind of scream that would set off car alarms, if more cars were parked nearby.

His finger clicked the buttons on the phone.  No reason to hold back.  He’d been anticipating attacks by forces from the outside for a long time now.  People who wanted to attack him because of the Atheneum Arrangement.  People who wanted to get rid of the Black Box.  Gold Garden competitors.  People who were worried he was getting too powerful.

The fact that put students at risk had motivated him to take steps.

Straight lines of shadow ran between the long shadows cast by the trees.  Shadow was easier to draw and it lay groundwork.  He clicked another button, and visible electricity lanced along the wires of an electric fence, hard to see in the shadows of the trees.

A warning shot of a landmine exploded further down the blasting field.  Both Charles and Seth tumbled to the ground.

Spikes pierced upward from the ground, then unfolded into arrays.  More wires, more electricity.

A labyrinth of electric fences, with wires as thin as a human hair.

Another function, from the bottom of the menu.

A black rectangle lanced upward to his left.  He turned and pressed a hand against it, and the door swung in.  He stepped through into featureless darkness.

The door closed, and he no longer heard Durocher’s scream.

He picked the destination. The coordinates.  He blinked, and another black-painted door was there in the black nothingness.  Mounted on it was a satellite-view map of the upper end of the field and the treeline.

He pulled a laser pointer out of his pocket, pushed the door open, and stepped outside again.

Into the way of Charles and Seth.

They stopped in their tracks, a matter of ten paces from the treeline.  Seth was holding a glass stick.  It looked like he’d shattered some of the electric fence to clear a path.  Well, it was fragile.  It wouldn’t hold for long.  But really, he needed to keep them put.

“They passed you tools?”

Seth nodded, swallowing.

“Ray,” Charles said.  “What are you going to do if I try to run now?”

Ray put his hand out to the side.  He clicked the button on the laser pointer.

The invisible beam sheared through about ten trees, toppling them.  They crashed to the ground with a surprising amount of noise, considering the branches and foliage that cushioned their falls.  Dust and pine needles were kicked up.

“You’d kill me, after everything?” Charles asked.

Raymond moved his hand, pointing the laser pointer at Charles’ waist.  He aimed it low, so the beam wouldn’t cut past to the school, Durocher, or the distant children of Kennet.

“Seth,” Raymond said.  “I wouldn’t use that glass stick of yours again.  It’s sheer luck that you didn’t die, pulling that.”

“I figured,” Seth replied, quiet.  “I took the chance.”

“You made this harder than it had to be,” Charles said.  “You still underestimate the fact that your system and a man you enabled created people who have utterly nothing left to lose.”

Raymond didn’t waver.

“While there’s still a chance we can do something that matters, I think you either have to let us go, or you have to press the button on that device.  Kill me, Sunshine,” Charles said.  “End me.  Put the punctuation mark on your statement of support for Alexander’s way of doing things.  Abraham’s.  Larry’s.  Then when you look down at my corpse, I hope it’s an image that stays with you.  Something that sticks and intrudes on that bubble of delusion you’ve created for yourself.  Something that dogs you when you run from reality.”

“Stand down.”

Charles looked like he was going to say something, then he stepped forward.

Ray used the laser.  He cut into the ground, just in front of Charles’ feet.  In the doing, he damaged the fencing further.  One post fell, a length of wire snapped out.  It sparked as it slapped Charles across the face, crackling audibly, and stroked down the length of Seth’s arm.

Seth collapsed.

“I think the protections have been disabled,” Ray said.  “Don’t take this further.”

Seth was breathing hard, breaths coming quick and tight.  Charles held one hand to the edges of a gash at his cheekbone that was surrounded with an intense looking black burn.

“Just stop.  You’re destroying yourselves and hurting others.”

“Stop?”  Charles asked.  “Do nothing?  Like you?”

“At least don’t do something this destructive.”

“Anything I do that matters runs a risk of being destructive,” Charles said.  “Who are you to tell me anything, you think you’re above me, because I’m forsworn?  Do you think you really have the right to tell me what to do, when you do this?”

Charles extended his free arm out, indicating the campus.

“It’s not about the right to say anything it’s… I figured we were close enough to being friends.”

“We’re not.  Don’t retreat to your fantasies, Sunshine.”

“I live in reality more than you’re saying.  Every day I have to weigh the scales, consider implications, make sure that the innovations I set in motion are doing good.”

“Reality?” Charles asked.

“A version of it.  I think so.”

“How’s this for reality, then?  I was by Hector’s bedside when you weren’t.  I went.  I spent the time there.  I wasn’t even much of a friend to him, barely knew him aside from some jobs, but I did at least that much when you couldn’t,” Charles growled the words.  “You utter fucking coward of a man.”

They were words as effective as a strike to the face.  Raymond didn’t want to flinch, didn’t want to move his hand, didn’t want to sway on the spot.  When he did anyway, he blamed it on fatigue.  The weight on his shoulder.

It wasn’t intent and it wasn’t fatigue.  A touch, so gentle he barely registered it, moved his hand.  His finger reached for the button and he didn’t find it in the moment.

He saw a glimpse of a beautiful, long face, naked body and shoulders- a reaching hand.

Fingers gently closed his eyelids.  The push became a bit more forceful.

He stumbled and he turned a partial circle in the attempt to find his footing.

He froze.  His eyes wouldn’t open.  His hand was out, holding the pointer.  His other hand held the phone.

He took a short step.

“You are about one foot away from your own electric fence,” a woman’s voice said, soft.  “I would not take a step.”

He couldn’t place the direction of the voice.

He didn’t have his bearings.  When he’d stumbled, how much of a circle had he turned?

“My note to the junior students asked them to step outside right about now.  It seems some listened.  Be careful with that weapon of yours.”

He tried to use his nose, the feel of wind on skin.  If he intuited the direction of the trees, the sound of branches, even, he could rake that direction with lasers.  He could at least keep Charles and Seth from running.  He had to buy time.

He needed to get rid of the fence.  What was the last function he’d input into the phone in his hand?  If he went by memory alone- the door.  Location.  He clicked the back button, scrolled up-

The phone was slapped out of his hand.

He twisted, aiming the laser toward the source of the slap-

“Nicolette Belanger.”

He stopped.

“You’re aiming in her direction.  A twitch to the right, and you’d have her blood on your hands, if that weapon even sheds blood.”

He couldn’t place the location of the voice.

“I do think that settles it,” the Faerie said, voice soft and amused.  “We’ll see how this unfolds.”

He wanted to say something but he didn’t have the words.  What use, arguing with a faerie?

“Ray!” Nicolette’s voice was distant.  “Above!”

He hesitated.

“I am Nicolette Belanger, it is my voice you hear, and my words are true, she’s above you!”

He aimed, reaching, gripping the laser with both hands so it couldn’t be slapped away.  He shot.

He heard the Faerie’s tittering laughter.

He had a sense of where the fence was, but to be safe, wary of the wires of the fallen post, he sagged to his knees instead.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette said.  Her voice was closer.

“Blinded.  Temporarily, I hope.”

“We can’t get to you very easily here,” Estrella said.  “Fence in the way.”

“The Faerie’s gone?” he asked.  He wanted to be sure.

“Yes,” Estrella said.

“Seth?” he asked.

“Hurt, but breathing.”

“Charles?”

“Long gone,” Nicolette said.  “We could go after him, but I see some flowers scattered in the shadows of the woods.  Very bright.  I… wouldn’t.”

“Some are likely to be simple glamour,” Estrella said.  “But the one out of twenty or one out of fifty that aren’t could end you.  Or curse you like I was cursed earlier.”

“They’ve gotten away then,” he said.

“With near certainty,” Estrella said.  “There are too many places they could escape to.  Realms.  Doorways to the courts.”

“They’ll head to Kennet,” Nicolette said.  “For reasons I can’t outline, because of deals I made.”

“The Carmine throne,” Raymond replied.  “This doesn’t bode well.”

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