Gone and Done It – 17.3 | Pale

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“I nominate Louise Bayer for the council seat.”

Verona twisted in her seat, spotted Louise in the jumble of people gathered around the rooftop, and motioned for her to approach and sit.

“Seconded,” Lucy said.

“Thirded,” Verona said, as she turned back around.

There was a bit of a murmur.  Louise frowned before sitting.  She had a faint line of blood by her lower eyelids.

“You okay there?” Melissa asked.

“As good as I ever am,” Louise said, taking a seat.

“Because your eyes are bleeding.  And- yeah.”

“At least it doesn’t seem to stain my clothes,” Louise said.  “I’m getting the impression from the mutterings around me that this wasn’t expected or wanted.”

Verona decided to address the first bit.  “We were talking about things and we think Louise does the crying blood thing when she sees the world of practice and Others, and she’s better than others at putting that away after.  Something that came with the memory thing Matthew did?”

Matthew answered, “Maybe.  Creating a rut.  I thought we did fine with that but it could be that her level of involvement after brought her further into the fold.”

“That’s a problem if it means Lucy, Verona, and Avery are taking more cosmic responsibility for Louise.”

“If something happens to Louise,” Rook said.  She wore the guise of an old woman.  “Which it is more likely to.”

“So that increased responsibility and danger is actually a thing, and those three haven’t been pulling my leg?” Melissa asked.

Lucy looked like she wanted to punch, slap, or strangle Melissa.  “What the heck, Melissa?  We can’t lie without getting punished, what did you think was happening?”

“Dunno!”

Between the back and forth and the ongoing murmuring around the rooftop, things were chaotic.  It was just past eight, but the days were getting shorter, so it was already dark.

Rook had taken care when arranging things on the rooftop.  It was a larger, broader roof over a strip of smaller stores downtown, and trees, box plants, wrought iron cages and other things were all organized to section things off around the cross-shaped table.  A roof extended partially above them at a diagonal, and cast the back half of the rooftop into deep shadow.

The arms of the cross and the shadow that passed over the rooftop did a lot to set the stage.  The glint of Toadswallow’s monocle, Chloe’s eyes, and Alpeana were all there in the gloom, along with the bright eyes of the varied goblins, reflecting the light from elsewhere.  A radio hissed faintly.

Verona used her Sight, and it illuminated the dark parts, wrapping foliage in film.  Tashlit’s eyes didn’t glow or reflect light, so she hadn’t been visible until Verona used her Sight.  Guest Others behind Toadswallow included Bubble, Dee, and Sockgnash.

Closer to the middle, where the shadows were less dense, Miss sat behind a hanging mask, just opposite Rook, who held a mask out over her lower face.  Guilherme was sitting in the shadows, not as large as he usually was.  Matthew sat in his chair at an angle, avoiding looking at Edith, who sat opposite him, and Cig was set in an glass ashtray just in front of an empty chair.  Freak sat in a chair pretty close to the Vice Principal, in partial shadow, with Squeak a few paces back, in full darkness.

The local Others were all present, with the exception of the dog tag Miles, who was watching Marlen, and Jabber, who would have just been a nuisance.

Stew Mullen, the Vice Principal, and the Witch of Bitter Street were sitting at another arm, opposite the arm of the cross-shaped table where Lucy and Verona sat with the laptop they’d set up for Avery.  Melissa, Bracken, Mal, and Reggie hung out near the fire escape, just behind them.

Toadswallow’s voice was a croak from the darkness, his monocle catching the light as he moved his head.  “Did you know you were going to nominate the witness before you asked me to hold a vote?”

“No,” Verona told him.  “We agonized a lot about how we’d handle the leadership question.  And other questions.”

“Hmmm,” he grumbled.  “Alright then.  I’m putting my metaphorical hat in the ring once more.”

“I might as well,” Miss said.  “But I don’t know how long that will last or remain relevant.”

“There’s a lot still to discuss there,” Lucy admitted.

“I’d put myself up for consideration, but I won’t be attending meetings less important than this one,” Matthew said.

Edith shifted in her seat, not looking at him.

“Louise, my dear,” Toadswallow said.  He had put something on the seat of his chair to raise his position, and it creaked and popped as he moved.  “How much of a recap do you need?”

“I have a very loose grasp of things, I think,” Louise said.

“Do you now?” he asked, in a very pointed way.

“The girls said they gave me the key points.”

“Is this something that Kennet below can apply for?” the Bitter Street Witch asked.

“Kennet below is independent, with its own votes for the major things,” Lucy said.  “You guys get a say here.  And it’s kind of a veto.  If you guys agree by majority, you can say no, to the person we’re voting for.  Or throw in your own votes to change the balance.  We’ll try to figure it out.”

“Hmm.”

“What we were thinking,” Avery said.  “Wait, can I talk?  Is that okay?”

“I think you’re alright to talk, Avery,” Miss replied.

“We put Louise forward because- a lot of the other candidates and Others of Kennet have blood on their hands, I guess I’d say.”

“Most non-candidates for the leadership have blood on their hands,” Toadswallow replied.  “If we’re to represent all of them, isn’t it appropriate we understand?”

“That’s- maybe.  But Verona said the Judges put the question about what Kennet is and what the new Kennet will be right in front of her.  Kennet is more than just its Others.  And when we talked to Ken, back before, and tried to create a representative of… I guess most of this table, we failed.  Because the connection isn’t there.”

“It could be a bad omen,” Lucy said.  “If we want to create another layer to Kennet, and if we want to try to lead Kennet without having that connection to all of the town and its residents, we might really need that connection to hold things together.  Louise feels like a better fit to us.”

“But we’re open for argument,” Verona said.

Louise had crimson trails running down from her lower eyelids now, chin on hand, elbow on the table.

“But- but, wait-” Avery said, starting to speak just as Matthew was going to say something.  “Sorry, whoever that is.”

“Was just going to say I have a lot of respect for Louise,” Matthew said.  “Go ahead.”

Avery went on, saying, “What we were thinking was that it might be best if we had sub-council heads for each layer of Kennet.  One for Kennet above, the Kennet Louise and us three know best.  One for Kennet below… maybe with a three-headed council to keep it simple?”

“To keep us from murdering one another, you mean?” the Witch of Bitter Street asked.

“And one for Kennet found,” Avery finished.  “Which would have someone like Miss or Toadswallow, and would cover a lot of the rest of this table.”

“Or Toadswallow could attach himself to Kennet below,” Lucy said.  “If they were amenable.  The market and all.”

“Meaning our decision about Louise is not just a decision about leadership, but about how we’d organize after?” Miss asked.

“Essentially,” Verona said.

“And now I think I understand part of why you wanted this table shape.  Making an argument before we’d even seated ourselves,” Rook said.

“Hmm, I’m not that crafty,” Avery said.

“I am,” Verona said.  “It crossed my mind.”

“Oh, well, there you go,” Avery said.

“That leaves the Others of Kennet without representation until Kennet found is formed,” Miss said.

“It does,” Lucy agreed.

“But, but but,” Verona cut in.  “Don’t the other options also have that issue?  Miss is going to be busy founding the new Kennet.  Toadswallow has the market as a distraction.”

“Another suggestion of yours,” Toadswallow said.  “That I set up sooner than later.”

“And again, not something we planned to be coy or have stuff set up in advance,” Verona said.

“It would be to your credit if it was,” Guilherme mused.  He sat with a foot on the edge of his chair, elbow planted on thigh, cheek resting against knuckles, long whitish hair draping his face.

“It would be annoying if it was,” Toadswallow added.

Guilherme blinked with emphasis as if to acknowledge Toadswallow without acknowledging him too much.

“What it appears to come down to,” Rook said, “Is whether she is equipped, or if her lack of equipment is more of a problem than Miss or Toadswallow being preoccupied.”

“In addition to the question of whether we want that three-pronged government,” Miss added.

“And the question about how to handle the sheer amount of shit that’s going to come our way,” Lucy said.  “And the question about what Kennet found will look like, how bloody we want the hands forging it to be.”

“Ah,” Miss said.  “Are my hands so bloody, when I have no hands at all?”

“What?” Melissa asked, quiet.

“In the interest of keeping from wasting time, can I make a suggestion?” Matthew asked.  “A preliminary vote, to sound people out?”

“Each of those key points.”

“Are you the one who’ll lead us through that, Matthew?” Toadswallow asked.  “I’ll note you’re friends with the witness.”

“I’m also willing to fight, bleed, and die for Kennet,” Matthew retorted.  “And I’m friends with you and Miss too.  Does that disqualify me?  Or most people here?”

“Conceded.  Lead us through this, then.”

“On the question of a three-pronged government for a three-pronged Kennet, raise your hands if you’re for.  If you cannot do so, please wait to indicate, so we don’t lose you in the jumble,” Matthew told the people present.

Verona, Avery, and Lucy put their hands up, as did Louise.  Tashlit raised hers, getting a mouthed ‘thank you’ from Verona in return.

They had Matthew, that made sense.  And Nibble and Chloe, which Verona would have liked to hear the rationale for.  Was that because they were on their side, or because the distinction made sense to them, given what they were?

“This isn’t final, and this isn’t deciding anything.  But an overwhelming decision one way or another might change how we handle this,” Matthew addressed those present.

“If they’re divided into two groups, we have more power comparatively,” the Bitter Street Witch told the Vice Principal and Stew.  She raised a bent and broken arm.

“Division?  I like fractions,” the Vice Principal said.  She raised her hand.

Stew looked between the two, then followed suit.

“More rep for humans?  I’m in,” Melissa said.  She put a hand up, then elbowed Bracken, who raised his own.  Reggie raised a hand, and Mal, sitting a little bit off to the side, did the same.

“It’s not really about human rep, so much as it’s about having the Others cut off from the needs and wants of Kennet in the big picture.  Humans are only part of that,” Lucy said, quiet.

“Enh,” Melissa grunted, noncommittal.

“I must say, that technically, we haven’t formally inducted the Aware and sorts like Bracken into the fold,” Toadswallow said.  “If they’re being included in the vote that’s at least partially about how to structure things around the human and Aware contingent, we’re coming into a spitting distance of begging the question.”

“We should include Melissa, Bracken, and Mal,” Lucy said.  “They’ve contributed, they’ve made sacrifices, they’ve helped us put things together, or guard what we’ve done, and they’ve faced danger.”

“Me less than the others,” Mal said.

“Hold on,” Matthew said.  “Let’s get a sense of this first.”

Gashwad, perched on the rooftop’s edge, put up a hand.  Toadswallow turned his head.

“Because it would annoy you,” Gashwad told Toadswallow.

Cherrypop was on the table, her attention captivated by the laptop, lighting up every time Snowdrop was on screen.  When Snowdrop raised a hand, so did Cherrypop.

“Montague?” Matthew asked.

“-more representation- kssshht -three ninety nine!”

“That’s a vote for, I gather,” Matthew said, looking around the space to count, then taking notes.  He wrote something on the bottom end of the notepad and then tore it off, placing it by Cig.  “Cig?”

The cigarette rolled.

“One for, from Cig.  And Miss?”

“No,” Miss said.

“If we include the newcomers as half-votes, which is what we’ve done with other new members, and suits my instincts, that’s… eighteen votes out of twenty three and a half possible votes.” Matthew said.  “Notably, some of our key leadership is against it.  Miss, Guilherme, and Rook have not voted for.  Any thoughts, tenuous votes, brief arguments?  We can dig into this more later, so let’s keep it short, or…”

“Outline your argument,” Edith finished his sentence.

Matthew pointedly didn’t look at her or respond.

“I am not entirely against this at its core,” Miss said.  “But so much hinges on Louise’s capability and I worry it’s insufficient.  I’d like to address that later, and I hope some of the people who’ve voted will change their mind to vote no after, if needed.”

“I would change my own vote or step down, if I thought I couldn’t do it,” Louise said.  “I’m under the impression that this council needs someone who can make moral calls and guide things.”

“We also need someone who can guide Kennet through wartime.  It’s a move away from what we need to focus on, especially at this critical moment,” Rook said.  “No.”

“I don’t intend to change my answer when I give it, and will abstain for now,” Guilherme intoned.

“Second question, then,” Matthew said.  “About the wartime thing.  I’m not sure how to phrase this.”

“If I can butt in?” Avery asked.

“Okay,” Matthew said.

“I thought maybe this would be a good question to put forward to all the candidates,” Avery said.  “We could maybe go over a few scenarios, and let them explain how they’d handle it.  But one situation came up the other night.  Louise already knows the gist of this, but just in case not everyone here is in the loop… we’re at war with Musser.  He’s taking over most of Ontario and some of Manitoba with this secret organization of lords and kings.  He’ll eventually come for Kennet.  I’m currently in Thunder Bay, and I worked with Crooked Rook and Thunder Bay’s council to push enemy forces into a retreat.  They regrouped in one location, and Rook captured them.”

“They remain captured,” Rook noted.  “But it’s tenuous and it will crumble the moment Musser’s group comes at us in force.  They’re retaking other locations and surrounding us, hoping we’ll get exhausted or pulled apart if we try to divert forces.”

“One of the captives is daughter to one of Musser’s lieutenants… and sister to a friend of mine,” Avery said.  “Rook unilaterally didn’t want to release her.  And didn’t want to negotiate.  She wanted to hold what we had for maximum effect, if I understand it right.”

“Yes,” Rook replied.

“I guess the question is… at what point do we use diplomacy and at what point do we use war?  Anthem was pretty fair to Verona over the demesne claim, and I feel like we were unfair to him.”

“At what point,” Verona added, “do we take food from people who could starve without it, to keep the war effort going?”

“Ah,” Rook murmured.  “The three mountain villages between Snowdon and Glyder Fawr?”

“Couldn’t tell ya,” Verona replied.

“Such decisions often come back to bite you,” Rook mused.  “Even a small bite, centuries later.”

“Looks pretty damn good for someone centuries old,” Melissa murmured to Bracken.  Mal cackled quietly.

Verona smiled despite herself.

“That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” Lucy asked, ignoring Melissa.  “That these things come back at us?  Sir Toadswallow making Peckersnot kill to show he’s able to contribute?”

“Dang, Toadie,” the goblin Deedee murmured, behind Toadswallow.

“Or Miss letting the Carmine die?” Verona asked.  “Just going to say, that’s a pretty big bite that came back at Kennet, that we’re still dealing with.”

“It is,” Miss said.

“The distinction I would make,” Rook replied, “is that yes, I was part of forces that raided mountains and mountain villages.  We took the food in as cold a winter as they’d seen in their lifetimes, but that food gave us strength and the ability to barter that saved over a hundred of ours.  Thirty-nine women and children that we took the food from either survived, or they became Other.  Many of those Others joined our cause.”

“You still lost that war, right?” Verona asked.

Lucy elbowed her.  Verona pulled her arm back, frowning at her friend while rubbing the spot that the elbow had connected.

“We lost but we survived.  One of those Others that joined our cause went on to be key in future conflicts.  He saved other lives.  And for what it’s worth, I don’t believe I would be standing here today if we hadn’t taken the food.”

“Right,” Avery said.  “But it was a horrible thing to do.”

“It was a decision I made then as someone with decades of experience in these conflicts and wars.  I have many more decades behind me now.  When I told you I didn’t want to let an unpredictable and canny enemy go, there were reasons.  Keeping her captive has restrained one of our strongest opponents.”

“We’re getting sidetracked,” Matthew said.  “And I’m still at a loss for how to put this to a yes-no vote.”

Verona sat back in the wrought metal chair Rook had provided her.  “Do we want our council leaders to be warlords or…?”

“Diplomats?” Lucy suggested.

“Nurturers,” Avery offered.

“Nurturers,” Verona confirmed.  That fit Louise better, and the issue they had with Kennet found.

“I’m not sure how much I nurture,” Louise said.

“You looked after Snowdrop.  And- others,” Avery said.

They didn’t want to make Louise a target of Edith by making a point of how Louise had given Matthew a place to stay.  They’d covered that beforehand, but it was tricky to dance around now.

“Me,” Melissa said.  “Not sure why you’re being coy about that.  Was nice having someone who wasn’t my parents, I guess.”

I don’t think Avery was thinking about you but thanks for the cover, Verona thought.

“Warlord or diplomat.  Hand up for a warlord,” Matthew said.

A few hands went up.

“This feels like it’s more about me and you,” Toadswallow told Miss.

“I never considered you a warlord, particularly,” Miss replied.  “Merchant, teacher, trickster.”

“Right royal bastard, I’d hope.”

“At times.”

He looked satisfied.  He put a hand up.

Verona glanced past Toadswallow to the goblins he’d brought with.  Was some of what he was doing here an attempt to show off?  That threw a wrench into things.

Matthew checked in with Miss, Cig, and Montague before tallying up the results.

“That’s Toadswallow, Cherrypop, Gashwad, Guilherme, Rook, the three lords of the Undercity, and Edith, all in favor of a warlord-centric leadership.”

“In a time of war, at the very least,” Guilherme said.

“And the newer goblins have a consensus, they’re almost unanimously for, that’s half a vote.  Grandfather represents the Dog Tags, that’s half a vote.  Freak and Squeak, Reggie, and Mallory are half votes each.”

“Feels weird I’m being counted, but heck yeah,” Mal said.  Verona’s friend from the Undercity.  Mal had tattooed hands jammed in her coat pockets, but the ill-fitting coat left her wrists showing, and there were tattoos there too.  More tattoos marked her neck and went up behind her ears.  Something that could have been a mushroom or someone puking was up on the flat part of her ear, with a piercing going through it.

“Bringing us to twelve and a half, out of twenty three and a half.  We’re scraping by the halfway point, in favor of a warlord.  Arguments, comments?”

“The vote isn’t about whether we should have a warlord,” Miss said, “But about whether we want our leadership to be a warlord first and foremost.  If it were me, or even if it were Louise, I would expect the leader to give direction and take the counsel of those who know war.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t say yes to that one,” Mal told Bracken.

“I’d rather have a Bitter Street Witch than a Foreman,” Bracken said.

The Bitter Street Witch twisted around in her seat, and she was very good at twisting with her broken body.  “Little boy, if you want to discount me as a warlord, come to the Undercity.  My soldiers will help clear up your misconception and then they can hand you your teeth when you leave.”

The Vice Principal laughed.

“I’m not saying you’re not a warlord.  You’re just not a warlord first.  You’re smart first,” Bracken told her.  “I’d rather have someone smart who can build something while they’re warlording than, uh, the Foreman.”

“Hmm, you can keep your teeth.”

“I’m changing my vote,” Mal said.  “Agree.”

“But do we have someone who can be the warlord as a secondary role?” Edith asked.  “Toadswallow?”

“Don’t talk to me or advocate for me, poisoner,” Toadswallow told her.  “You’re here and you get a vote as formalities.”

“I could argue your treatment of me here is against the spirit of the deal made with Lis,” Edith said.

“Try,” Toadswallow told her.

This is a problem, Verona thought.  Because Toadswallow had his ‘crew’ behind him.  Including Bubbleyum, who he wanted to impress.  And Edith had her own ego stuff going on, which was not good in combination with Toadswallow’s thing.

“Toadswallow would qualify,” Verona agreed.

Edith turned her head.  Appraising her.

“But I think that’s a question that should be saved for later,” Verona added.

“Okay,” Matthew said.  “Any other thoughts, considerations?”

“I’m fine leaving this as a standing question to address later,” Miss said.

“Okay.  I think, depending on arguments, this could easily swing one way or the other.  Third question.  What will Kennet look like?  That’s not an easy one to put to a yes or no.”

“Maybe we could do the questions?” Verona asked.  “For the candidates?  Mix it in there?”

“If you want,” Matthew said.

“I’ll start with a few, if that’s okay,” Lucy said.  Nobody objected, so Lucy seemed to think it was okay to go on.  “A person, they can be human or Other, I don’t see it mattering, they come from an ugly background, they murder, hurt, maybe even enjoy hurting.  Years pass.  They change.  Where do we draw the line?  How many years?  When do we say they can’t be here, at this table?  Or that it’s dangerous to have them build a new Kennet?”

“I know those people,” Louise said.  “Not- not necessarily the murder part.  But close.  I went to school here.  Same school most of these kids are attending, I’d guess.  By the time I graduated, a few had already gone down the wrong path.  Bad parents, no support, they got into alcohol or drugs.  And they got other people into the same stuff.  They ruined their lives, ruined the lives of their friends.  One robbed me.  Hit me when I tried to keep him from taking my car keys and car.  When I lived downtown, I was close with my neighbors.  I called the police on their daughter, three in the morning, because she was hammering on the door, screaming, broke a window.  Because they cut her off.  Locked her out, for good reason.  Every few years, someone else I knew or knew of would start down that road, or I’d be close enough to a situation I could see the damage done.”

“Drugs aren’t murder,” the Bitter Street Witch said.

“I feel like they are, a bit,” Louise replied.  “Sometimes a life just… stops, and that’s it for that person.  Especially here in Kennet, where life doesn’t always have… it doesn’t take a lot to stop it in its tracks.  But my point is, answering the question, is I’ve seen people who didn’t have their lives end, for everything except for their heartbeat.  They clawed their way back, they changed.  Quit, did the steps.  I think I’m more willing to forgive the past than most.”

Louise turned to look at Lucy and Verona, then added, “I was picked to be a moral compass, but I think I’m more willing to let the past go than you three.”

Verona thought of her dad.

If only anything about him would change.  But even if he did change, even if he took to the therapy and followed advice and became Jasmine tier, it was really hard to imagine letting things go.

“Toadswallow?  Miss?” Matthew asked.

“I’ve killed,” Toadswallow said.  “I dare say I’ve killed in interesting ways, even.  I’ve had others kill, and I’ve taught others to kill better.  I don’t put anyone to standards I don’t hold myself to.  More than anything, I believe in change.  Sometimes that change is from innocent idiot to clever killer, and sometimes it’s from killer to someone who can fit in here.  Sometimes a creature like Guilherme changes courts.”

Insert faint, barely perceptible pause.

“Sometimes a lady of Louise’s ilk cries blood so that she can later wipe away the blood and her awareness of us, changing back and forth.  I won’t deny regretting Peckersnot’s treatment, but if change can be so dramatic as all that, then I dare to think we need do dwell in the moments and the chances we get to force change.”

“In the now, you brought the Milkmaid here.  She’s killed and done worse,” Verona told him.

“But she’s not killing and doing worse now.  Bring her here, give her the chance to see better, opportunity to trade abyss stuff that doesn’t need so many victims, and put her next to Killwagon and see if he can’t rub off on her, and where are we at?”

Verona thought of her dad again.  And of what it might take to actually change him.  She could actually imagine a role model and change of scenery maybe possibly having an effect.

“I sorta like that,” Verona admitted, looking at Avery on the laptop screen, and at Lucy.  “Creating the chances to change.”

“I’m not sure I buy it,” Lucy said.  “Sorry.”

“And do we want Kennet to be focused on that?  Because it’s going to be hit or miss, right?” Avery asked.  “And yeah, sorry, Sir Toadswallow.”

“Nah,” Toadswallow replied.  “I got at least one of you hearing me.”

Verona shrugged and nodded.

Miss took her turn.  “I want Kennet to be a sanctuary.  What’s happening beyond Kennet is a horror.  They’re establishing little kingdoms that will never fall, where Toadswallow’s kind are judged in entirety by the actions of a subfaction.  Even the ones who work and fight hard against that subfaction.  They would treat us all the same way we were treated a thousand years ago.  I don’t think we can salvage things outside Kennet.  I do think we can make Kennet a place to come to for those Others who don’t feed their biases or foster ugliness.  Sometimes we’ll misstep.  Sometimes we’ll have to oust the ones who do ugly things.  And sometimes we won’t be able to oust them.  I think it’s only realistic to face that.”

“You’re coming after me now?  Putting me on the spot?” Edith asked.

“No.  I’m just speaking to the reality,” Miss said.

“You say I do ugly things.  Toadswallow calls me a poisoner.  Matthew ignores me.”

“I swear to you, my thoughts were on the likes of Lis and Charles, with no real intent besides a portrayal of our situation.”

“As if,” Edith replied.

“How can I speak to the realities of leading Kennet if I ignore key facts?”

“This is a joke,” Edith said.  She stood from her seat.  “You’re giving more say to undercity children than me?”

“They’ve contributed to the greater health of Kennet.  They get half votes,” Miss said.

“But they don’t get verbal barbs, insults, or get ignored when they contribute,” Edith said.

Matthew didn’t move, head turned, dark eyes fixed on a point on the horizon.

Edith stared down at him, shook her head a little, and then rounded one arm of the table, stomping off toward the fire escape.

Melissa was in her way.

“Move,” Edith said.  Her eyes glowed orange.

“If you threatened and hurt a person here, where food and drink have been served and truces observed, even Lis wouldn’t necessarily defend you,” Rook said.

“What truces?”

“The undercity warlords, for one.  You and your ex.”

“Ex?  He is still my husband.”

“No,” Matthew said.  “I’m not.  Not in spirit.”

Edith turned to look at him with eyes that burned like embers.  It was the first response he’d really given her.

“Melissa,” Verona whispered.

Melissa stepped out of the way, which was good, because Edith stormed over there with a force and a flare of visible heat making the air shimmer around her.  She stomped off down the wrought iron fire escape that led up to Rook’s rooftop.

“Are you okay?” Louise asked Matthew.  She put a hand out to touch his.

“Yeah.”   He flashed Louise a smile then withdrew his hand to his lap.  “Sorry about all that.”

“It’s her, not you,” Miss said.

“Where were we?” Matthew asked, looking uncomfortable in his seat.

“Miss?” Toadswallow asked.

“I’m very good at removing and deflecting problems,” Miss said.  “Sometimes that’s an advantage.  Sometimes not.  I can also see people from angles that others here cannot.  I used that kind of sight to pick our three practitioners.  I use it to work against our enemies.  I work with others here, like Rook, like Avery, Lucy, and Verona, to fill my weaknesses as best I can.  I think we’re strong.”

“That doesn’t really answer the question,” Lucy said.  “Where do we draw the line?”

“In each and every case, it depends,” Miss replied.  “If you want a strict line, I don’t think there is one.  I don’t think there should be one.”

“I get the impression this is a referendum on our past mistakes.  I knew the Carmine was dying and I didn’t take action.  To me, she was a brute, and an artifact of yesteryear.  Without her, I thought we could change for the better, if only a little.  I understand we’re still feeling the ramifications from her death.  I sometimes fail to see what is right in front of me, and that’s why I put so much stock in working with others who can make up for my lack.”

“What happens when the person you’re working with is the issue you can’t see right in front of you?” Lucy asked.  “What happens if it’s me?  If we run into a situation where we have a loss like we lost John, and I can’t handle it?  Or if it’s Verona going off the deep end?  Or Avery brings something back from the Paths, like the fake opossum she described, that wanted to replace Snowdrop, and she ends up not being really Avery?”

“Those latter two are things I can see better than others can.  For the rest, I don’t think anyone has an easy time of it.”

“Anything else?  Anyone?” Matthew asked.

“Another question,” Verona said.  “When we make Kennet found, a third Kennet, a call is going to go out.  Our enemies are going to notice.  If we time things right, we might leave them unable to devote everything against us.  But it’s still going to be a nightmare.  It could be anywhere from a dozen to a hundred practitioners and practitioner-bound Others who mount an attack on Kennet.  What do?”

“Strategically?” Matthew asked.

“Sure.  Problem solving.  When it comes down to it… it’s when times get tough that we have to dig deep.  And this sounds pretty tough.  So what are you digging into?”

“Toadswallow?” Matthew asked.

“I’m starting?  Iron fist from within a velvet glove,” Toadswallow said.  “With a lot of fisting, show them who’s boss.  Exaggerated violence, enough to scare them off and make them reconsider, with delicate diplomacy that surprises them.  I know we’re on track to knock Musser’s legs out from under him.  I don’t think that’ll be his defeat.  I do think it’s a chance to recruit.  The children are the way to go about that.  We saw it at the Blue Heron.  We see it when Zed and Nicolette come here as enemies and leave as allies.  Dee, Bubble, bunch of the rest of my guys back here can reach out one on one, or spy.  All we have to do is rebuff the first wave, buy time.  And I think we could do that.  Especially if we time things to get the numbers down.”

“I’d assume the worst,” Miss said.  “That we won’t have ideal timing.  Rook is positioned to distract.  We can take that a step further.  Bugges to disrupt communication and practice, Montague, Jabber, the knotting, Charles’ twenty four hour rule?  That buys us the time to finish Kennet found.  That gives us so much more opportunity to rebuff them, and put everything they want out of reach.”

“But that’s only temporary time.  And out of reach doesn’t mean they can’t eventually get to us,” Lucy said.

“All we need is time.  Kennet is dying, and I know several people here hate the idea of that, but it’s an important reality if we’re considering our situation.  Sometimes, if a person is dying, it comes down to that question of time.  Prolong their lives and well being long enough, and new treatments become available.  Those treatments can buy time too.  Sometimes until there’s a cure.”

“Not always, or even often, though, right?” Lucy asked.

“Not always or often.  But sometimes.  What we’re doing is hard.  What we’re up against is… malignant and overwhelming.  If it was any easier, we’d have more wins.  If we can be the one occasion where we bought the time and found a chance?  Saved enough time that we could identify one more distraction, that would tie their hands or complicate their efforts?  Time that allowed more allies to arrive, that we could use against Musser’s faction?  That’s the only road to victory I’m clearly seeing.  I would be enabling and assisting Rook, who would be our war leader, managing Kennet so we have a strong backbone.”

“Okay,” Matthew said.  “Louise?  Wrap us up for this question?”

“The warlords here.  They’re the Undercity?” Louise asked.

“Yeah,” Avery said.  “Some of them are.”

“What do you guys think?” Louise asked.

“We’re looking for your opinions,” Toadswallow said.

“And I’m looking for theirs.”

“Feed them to the kindergarteners.  They have a hundred practitioners?  We have thousands of dangerous people here,” the Vice Principal said.

“We could put out a call,” the Bitter Street Witch said.  “You’d be surprised, I think, how many people in Kennet below would step in to act.”

Stew Mullen shrugged.

“Okay,” Louise said.  “Who else?  Rook?  It’s nice to meet you.”

“We’ve met, with me in another guise,” Rook said.  “I wanted to assess you.”

“Oh.  What would you do?”

“Miss outlined it.  Captives, bugges, subvert the enemy, turn their efforts against them.”

“Like martial arts,” Lucy said.

“Like some martial arts.  I have talked to a powerful bugge called the Turtle Queen, who could reinforce our barrier and trouble our enemies.  She seems amenable, but the real question is whether this council can get past its compunctions about what she used to be.”

“Which was?” Avery asked, her voice slightly digitized by the medium of the laptop and the imperfect speakers.

“A viral threat.  A poisonous idea.  A distillation of your concerns about Miss, Toadswallow, and others in Kennet, all put together.  Maybe as powerful as the rest of us put together.”

Verona looked at Louise and saw the bloody tears running thick.  Louise didn’t blink as she listened and watched.

“We’re getting distracted,” Matthew said.  “This is about Louise’s decision.  Louise?”

“Before I say… you three?” Louise asked, looking at Lucy and Verona.

“You want ideas?” Lucy asked.

“Please.  Whatever you have to contribute.”

“There’s some Path stuff.  Some Others I can free.  My family’s celebrating Canadian Thanksgiving a bit late.  I’ll be in town.  If we can hold off until then, I’ll release more Others.  Verona and I worked out a system.  I’ll bring some of the ones from Thunder Bay, too.”

“Calling in the Dog Tags?  If that’s okay?” Lucy asked Grandfather.  “Do you think they’d answer?”

“Most would.”

“Either bringing them here for another line of defense, or having them work where they are.  Capturing the biggest threats?”

“Or killing them?” Toadswallow asked.

“I don’t want to make that call,” Lucy said.  “I don’t feel equipped.”

“Mmm,” Toadswallow grunted.

“I’ve got some half-formed ideas,” Verona said.  “But nothing I’d feel comfortable outlining just yet.  Give me a bit of time.”

“Okay,” Louise said.  “Well… all of that, then.  What the warlords said, what Rook said.  What the trio said.  Sounds good.  Maybe some tweaks along the way.  If the kids are right, we should leave room for negotiation.  Release of prisoners, if it buys us more chances.  Maybe some double checking of the kids plans.  Coordinating, to make sure nobody gets in one another’s way.”

“Teenagers, not kids,” Lucy muttered.

“A bit of a cop-out,” Toadswallow told her.

“Yeah.  Maybe a bit.  But I’m not trying to be the star of the show.  I want to keep things sane and organized.  I can do that,” Louise said.

“Can you, if you have to study those at the table to familiarize yourself with them?” Miss asked.  “You don’t know us.”

“Which is why I’d want to partner with someone.  Maybe you.  With the warlords.  My dad always said it’s not about being the smartest or best person in the room.  It’s about surrounding yourself with those better than you, who make you better.  You’ve got a gap.  You’re apparently going to be busy.  Toadswallow has other obligations?  The girls need an adult they trust to make harder calls?  Matthew and the girls think I can do this.  I trust them.”

“Just so we’re clear, what’s our timetable on that?” Matthew asked.  “Kennet found.”

“We’re within a few days of it,” Verona replied.  “The goblins and undercity have been competing to see who can fill out the scavenger hunt.  The market is their meeting place.  We’re at about sixty-seven items out of seventy seven.  That’s going-”

“Wait!” Ramjam called out.  He whispered hurriedly among the goblins.

He threw some objects onto the table.  They bounced to about the midpoint.  An old comb and a rug beater.

“Sixty nine!” Ramjam cried out.

The goblins cheered.

“Not accepting submissions right now-”

The goblins booed.

“But good work.  The hunt is going to slow down as we get closer to the end.  We’ll give out prizes for the last five, to encourage goblins to work at it.”

“We still need to work out the finer points of setting things up, and what Miss will be doing,” Avery added.  “She’ll set off from a Path, come down here, and the seventy-seven objects will be a big part of what anchors her and controls the end result.  But the Path she launches from will be its own decision.  Some of that is going to color Kennet found, and it’s going to create a link between the Path and Kennet found.  Even just a small one.  Like a little riddle built into the place that offers an escape route back here.”

“I’ll have to leave in advance,” Miss said.  “Navigating there.”

“I’ll come,” Avery said.  “But a lot of how we handle this depends on the leadership, so…”

“So let’s start debating and voting,” Matthew said.

There wasn’t all that much more to add to the prior discussions.  Some finer points of argument.  Debate, back and forth, some ideas here and there, some unviable, some not.

Matthew counted the votes.

“Bringing us to twenty, with Toadswallow, Gashwad, and Rook as the holdouts,” Matthew said.  “Edith abstains by her absence.  We’ll have a joint leadership of Louise and Miss until Kennet found is established, and then we’ll move to a three-pronged leadership.  Miss for the Others, Louise for humans and Aware, and the warlords of the undercity for Kennet’s violent underbelly.”

“If I may make a suggestion,” Miss said.  “It would be to use the time between now and the founding as efficiently as you can.  If you have any human connections, seek those out.  If you’re a goblin and there’s a dog that’s fond of you, that’s something.”

“That’s crazy, so silly,” Tatty exclaimed.  “What self respecting goblin would be okay with a stupid smelly stray dog licking them and getting all close?  So dumb, so uninteresting!  Who could respect that?  So dumb.”

Doglick pushed toward her, and she pushed him away.  The size difference was such she needed to use both arms to move his head any.  “Not you, you don’t count.  You’re not an actual dog.”

“If there’s a human, that’s better,” Miss said.  “Establishments you might frequent.  Show yourself to people who recognize you.  If you’ve been known to frequent any shops in a guise…?”

Guilherme nodded.

“We need to reinforce the original Kennet, the groundedness of it, the normality of it,” Avery said.  “And our ties to it.  If things get shaky or hectic, it might be the one percent of difference that makes or breaks it all.”

Goes for us too, Verona thought.

That was a daunting thought.  Especially with the threat of being forsworn on the line.

“Aaaaand… here we go,” Verona said.  She touched the signpost that was at the very edge of her property.  “Eyes closed.”

Slowly, the trees on either side of the little road leading up to her property closed in together.

Getting this security measure working again.  Helps that the rut has already formed.  Spirits know what I want to do.  Throw in a bit of city magic, approximating what I want to do, then some demesne influence to help guide it…

“You can open your eyes,” she said, when it was done, stepping away from the signpost with the street name.

Melissa did.  She looked around, like she didn’t know what she was supposed to be seeing, then looked again.  “The road.”

“Uh huh.”

Melissa frowned, then walked over to the signpost.  She looked up.  “The angle is different.”

“You cheated,” Mal said.  “You told her in advance.”

“I didn’t and I’m annoyed she noticed.  Weird Awareness crap.”

“Go me,” Melissa said.

They’d gathered at the house after the council meeting.  Mallory and Mel, with Bracken and Bag hanging out closer to the house, carrying debris and trash out to the back corner.

Verona figured maybe she’d have a fire later, burn the extra wood, keep herself warm.  Maybe do hotdogs on a stick to skip going home for dinner.

“All done!” Bag exclaimed.

“For tonight.  There’s more for another time,” Bracken said.  “It’s getting later, and this little fella needs to get to bed so he’s ready for school in the morning.”

“I owe you guys,” Verona told them.

“Gotta earn my half vote, right?” Bracken asked.  “But yeah, you owe me a bit.”

“Me too,” Mallory said, nodding.

“You didn’t do jack, so screw off,” Verona told Mallory.  “Go home.”

“Or I could stay.  Means I wouldn’t have to stay at my mom’s, deal with the twenty crying babies, the dogs, the dog milk.  Really, if you think about it, it’s a win-win, I get a quiet place to bunk for the night, and you get a Mallory that’s in a better mood and easier to deal with.”

“Do you really want to stay in a magic house owned by a witch that’s very irritated with you?” Verona asked.

“I’m up for anything once.”

“No.  Go home.”

“Ugh.  I should go now, I guess, if I’m going back at all.  I don’t want to wake the house when I close the door.  The barking, the crying.”

“I should get back too,” Melissa said.  “My parents don’t like me out after dark.  They’re afraid I’ll get mugged or something.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Bracken said.

“Nice.”

Verona’s phone blinged.  She checked.  Jeremy.

Jeremy the Lad:
I can’t find your place.

“Yep.  Okay, I’ve got company, he’s early, and you guys stayed later than I expected.  You guys gotta get lost.”

“Wait, why?” Melissa asked.  “What’s happening?”

“But what’s happening?” Melissa asked, not budging.

“Take the back way.  I’ve got a friend coming over.”

“Is it a male friend?  Is it Jeremy?  I thought you weren’t with Jeremy.”

“Gooooo.”

“Holy crap, that’s crazy, you’re having boys over?  In a secret magic house?  Alone?”

“So freaking puritan,” Mallory said.

“Puritan?” Melissa asked.

Mallory shrugged.  “Just find a corner in the library to mess around.  Who cares if you’re alone or whatever?”

Melissa turned to Verona.  “Why the hell have you been telling me to stay out of the undercity?  That’s wild.”

Verona jabbed Melissa hard in the side.  Melissa punched her shoulder.

Stalking over to the mailbox, Verona used it as a surface to write on.  She scribbled down a ward that would make it uncomfortable to be around, then closed her eyes.

Eyes closed, using the Sight, she felt around with her heart and Self, and held the ward overhead.

“What’s she doing?” Melissa asked.

“I dunno but it’s fun seeing her irritated.”

“Are you cursing my little brother?” Bracken asked.

“No,” Verona said, pushing power into the ward and through that, out into her demesne.  “But if you left, I’m sure Melissa would follow.  Might be nice.”

“Hmmm.”

He didn’t move.

She let the feeling reach them.  The spirits were very cooperative in bringing that feeling over.

“Ahhhhh, I know this,” Mallory said.  She rubbed at her arms.  “Ward.  To scare off innocents.”

Verona put more feeling into the ward.  “You’re not welcome.  You staying is getting in the way of duties I have for Kennet-”

That last bit added a bit of power to things.  Because of what she’d sworn during the awakening.

“-which is to establish human connections.”

Mallory leaned over to Melissa, saying something quiet.

Melissa guffawed.

Bracken started trudging off.  Melissa glanced at Mallory, and the two of them seemed to mutually decide to stay.

They were rubbing off on each other in the worst fucking way.

“Get lost,” Verona told them.

The feeling she was pushing out intensified.  An extreme discomfort.

They fled, Mallory laughing, seemingly at just how horrible it felt to be around.  She did something similar in roughhousing.  Laughing when uncomfortable.

Verona let them go, opening the way, then reached out for the sign.

The way parted slowly.

She messaged Jeremy, reminding him of the route.  Then she waited, hands clasped behind her back, shifting her feet.

“I must have gotten turned around,” Jeremy said.

“But you made it,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said.  “Has this place changed?”

“Let me show you.  I’ve been working.  Sorting stuff out.”

“It’s crazy you’ve just been camping out here.  Nobody owns this place?”

“I do, kind of.  I’ll own it more as time goes on.”

“How’s that?”

“Have you heard of adverse possession?”

“Like… ghosts?”

“Like… houses.”

“Then no.”

“There’s a legal thing, where if you squat at a location for long enough, make it clear you’re living there, you’re taking care of the place, doing everything peacefully…”

She opened the door and led him inside.  Bracken really had sorted out a lot of the mess.

“And if nobody fights you on it?  There’s a way to take possession of the property.”

“Is that the plan?”

No, but I don’t want to lie.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if it worked out?” Verona asked.

“Yeah.  I have a hard time imagining you getting away with it though.”

“Well… until something terrible happens, this is my place,” Verona said, spreading her arms.

She’d left some of the art on the walls.

“It’s changed.”

Verona nodded with enthusiasm.

“Huh.”

“You okay?” she asked him.  “Usually you have more words to say.  How long were you wandering out there, trying to find the road?”

“Not long.  Just taking it in.  Thinking,” he said.  “Heard from Wallace.  He’s back tomorrow.”

“Lucy’s meeting him for a date.”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.  Check this out.”

She hurried upstairs.  Jeremy followed.

She went into the bathroom, and cranked on the shower.  “Clear water!”

“What color was it before?”

“Just a bit red.  But a bit of willpower and hey.”

And it’s distilled, which is nice for alchemy.

“Nice.  That’s crazy.  You’re like some home improvement genius,” Jeremy said.

He looked up at the images on the ceiling.  She’d left only traces of them for Jeremy’s arrival, making the change between the time she’d texted him to come over and the time he’d actually arrived.  Then she, Bracken and Bag had hauled crap out, and Melissa and Mallory had just hung out and been annoying.  What was up now was only loose sketches of the fuller image.  Guilherme’s images had been relegated to the second floor ceiling.

“So this is what’s been distracting you, huh?” he asked.

“Some.”

“Huh.”

Verona retreated to the side room where she and Jeremy had done homework the other night.  “How’d your project go.”

“Okay.  Better than my usual, since we had the study session and got stuff done.  You?”

“Got distracted, rushed the final phase.  Trying not to think about it, so I don’t stress.”

“Good luck then,” he said.

She sat down on the mattress that was on the floor, then pulled off her sweater.  She plucked at her tank top, where it stuck to her chest.  “No obligation to do anything, but I was hauling stuff outside, got sweaty.  We could talk.  Or hang.  Or art.  Or I could shower in my clean, clear water, and you could join me.”

“Caroline came up to me at lunch today,” Jeremy said.  “Asked if we were a thing.”

That took the wind out of Verona’s sails.  A total change of topic.  An out-of-left-fielder.

“Oh?” Verona asked.  She leaned back, head against the wall.  “Huh.  Was she asking for someone else?”

“No.  I said no, we weren’t, which- we aren’t?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Okay.  Okay.  Her mom works with my mom sometimes.  So we meet on occasion.  Work events.  Work Christmas parties.  I guess she kind of likes me.  Asked me out.”

“Dang.  I’m not surprised.  You’re a likeable guy.”

Jeremy shrugged.  “I said I’d have to check, y’know?  Just to make one hundred percent sure.  With you.”

“Uh huh?”

“Because I want to do the dating thing.  And if I had a choice- I really do like you.  I’ve had a crush on you since grade six, you grab my attention when you walk into a room, you make me feel gutted when you’re too busy with other stuff to talk to me.  I love your brain, I like that you do art on the walls like it’s just so super natural, I like talking to you, I like your fashion.”

“I think you’re pretty super too.  You’re my favorite male friend.”

“I just thought, before I said yes or anything with Caroline, I’d put it out there.  I know you drew your own boundaries, it took me a bit to figure out, I can sort of guess the answer.  But I thought I’d ask.  Would you like to be my girlfriend?  It wouldn’t be all that different from what we do normally.  Just… some dates.  Labels.  Dorky stuff like talking about the future.”

Verona sighed.  “That doesn’t- it doesn’t spark anything in me.”

“Okay.”

“I feel like I’d be performing.  I don’t want to do that to you.  I don’t want to do it to me, faking so much, when you’re a friend.”

“Okay,” Jeremy said.

“Is this actually like… you want to go out with Caroline?  Are we talking about the same Caroline?  Caroline Gray?”

“Yeah.”

“Horse obsessed Caroline Gray?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have anything in common with horse obsessed Caroline Gray, do you?”

“I- I don’t know.  But that’s the point of dating, right?  To figure out if there’s anything?”

Verona slid to her right, flopping onto the bed, lying on her side.  “Why not skip to the good stuff, cut out the hassle?”

“It”s a good hassle.  It’s someone else hassling themselves for me.”

“Damn,” Verona muttered.  Louder, she said, “Isn’t it just going to be this thing where you date, you get all fuzzy and gooey for each other, you spend more and more time together, have to figure out the whole moving-in part, do the annoying proposal and wedding garbage, then you fall slowly out of love, until you’re two people who bone sometimes and live in the same place in a sorta comfortable, friend-y way?  If you’re lucky and don’t end up hating each other, or end up totally emotionally wrecked for the rest of your life for having even tried all that?”

“I dunno.  Maybe.  Not all of that sounds as bad as the way you’re making it sound, speaking in that tone.”

“Why not skip right to the end?  That bit where you’re comfortable and friend-y, and you bone, and you don’t sweat the rest?”

“I don’t think you can argue me out of wanting dating and relationships any more than I can argue you into it,” Jeremy said.

Verona sighed heavily.  “Does this mean we’re done with the rude stuff?  No more getting shirtless for figure drawings, none of that?”

“I don’t think that would be fair to Caroline.”

Verona stretched out, then flopped down.  “I can’t believe this is about Caroline.  You could end up going on one date and deciding she’s duller than unbuttered toast.  In fact, I think that’s more likely than not.”

“She’s okay.  I’ve talked to her at Christmas parties and stuff, like I said.”

“I sure hope you like talking about horses.”

“I don’t mind horses and talking to someone about something they’re really into can be nice.”

“But you realize it’s going to be a lot though, right?”

“Yeah.  I get the impression she’s really lonely, too, you know?  Pam being gone.  No other friends.”

“She cried when Mr. Kelsch left.”

Jeremy nodded.

“Fuck,” Verona said.  She thumped a fist down on the mattress, and looked up at Jeremy as he stood in the doorway.  “I liked doing that stuff with you.  We were getting pretty good at it.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe if things don’t work out with Caroline…?” she offered.

“Maybe not,” Jeremy said.  “Don’t get me wrong.  I enjoy it.  You’re beautiful.  It’s- just-”

Verona frowned at him.

“It feels like something I can’t tell Caroline about and it feels like if it’s this thing we’re doing whenever I’m not dating someone, it becomes an even bigger thing, you know?”

“No.  Not at all.”

“Well,” he shrugged, moved his hands like he wanted to try to illustrate something.  He dropped them.  “That’s how it feels.  I’m okay with it being what it is, a good time we had for a month or two.  I don’t want it to become, like… who I am.  Someone that’s always either dating or messing around with a friend.  That feels like it’s less a thing in the past and more a thing about me I’d have to tell every girlfriend.  Or keep secret from every girlfriend.  Does that make sense?”

“Hunh?” she asked.  “Not so much but okay.  That- that really sucks to hear but okay.  You do you.  Whatever feels right.”

“Yeah.”

She gave him a thumbs up, and in a more casual tone, said, “Got it.  We’re still friends, though?  Still going to hang?”

“I- I don’t feel like that would be fair to Caroline.”

Verona sat up straight, sitting on the mattress.  She looked up at him.  “What the fuck?”

“It feels like this secret I’d be keeping from her.  If I imagine the tables being turned… I’d feel pretty shitty that the girl I’m dating was doing stuff with a guy just days before our first date, and then he was always around?”

“I’d feel shittier that I was ditching a really cool art friend for horse obsessed Caroline Gray.”

“Ease up on that, okay?  Don’t be shitty to her.”

“I’m not-” she stopped herself.  “What the heck should anyone care about what someone does before they date you?  That’s ridiculous.”

“I’d care,” Jeremy replied.  “So I want to do the right thing and assume she would too.”

“And ditch me.”

“I talked with my mom about this.  Left out details, obviously.  Super awk,” Jeremy said.  “And it feels like nothing I could do would feel right, but after talking things through with her, this feels least wrong.”

Verona pulled her striped sweater into her lap and looked down at it.

“I figured I’d come and tell you to your face, instead of texting you.  Make the offer.  Maybe, uh, I could get Caroline to wait a bit longer.  Give you, I dunno, two or three days?  On the girlfriend offer?”

Verona shook her head.

“Okay.”

She leaned back and looked up at the art on the ceiling.  A pair of slender guys with what, in the full image, was long white hair, dancing around a buff guy with only an ivory helmet and a sash on.  Hair and sash protected their modesty.  At least, in the full image.  They were barely figure drawings, with this modified version she’d put up for Jeremy.

“I think you’re really cool.  The art, what you’re doing with this house.  You’re, actually, now that I think about it, you’re the coolest person I know,” Jeremy told her.

“No need for any of that,” she told him. “You know, Lucy’s my best best friend.  My oldest friend.  A friend who I lucked into, defaulted into.  My other half, makes it really hard because I hold all my other friends up to a Lucy standard.  Then there’s Avery, and she’s my best friend in a cozy way.  She makes me feel like a better person.”

“Sure.”

“Tash is my best friend in a weird way.  I think she gets how I think and I get how she thinks.  Mostly.  A lot of the parts of me that even you and Lucy scratch your heads over, I think she gets it.  She was there for me during the hardest part of summer.  With my dad.”

“Yeah.”

“But you get me.  Me as an artist.  Me as a girl.  You-”

She stopped, shaking her head.

She wasn’t sure where she was going with this.  Or what she was trying to accomplish.

Making him feel bad?  Maybe he should, for ditching her as a friend.

But that got way out of the whole keeping this uncomplicated, no-strings-attached thing.

She sighed.  “I hope Caroline and you work out.  Learn to draw horses.  A good sketch of one of her favorite horses is probably like a cat picture for me.  You’d get so many brownie points.”

“Yeah.”

Tell him about magic, her thoughts told her.  Show him something, anything.  He’d have to stay.  He’d be fascinated.  A whole world opening up to him.  And he’d be good at it.  Miss even thought so.

He already rejected you as a friend.  You’d know that, always.  That if it wasn’t for the magic he’d be gone.

It hurt.  The stupid thing was this wasn’t supposed to hurt and it was supposed to be casual and easy and it hurt.  She pulled her sweater back on.

It took about five different adjustments of her collar and sleeves before she realized she wasn’t really feeling frustrated and awkward because of the sweater.

“No hard feelings?” Jeremy asked.

“Dude, there’s some,” she said, looking up at him.  “We were friends.  We were cool.  You’re ditching me.  I don’t agree with the why.  Like you just gotta cut me loose forever?  Sucks.”

“Okay.”

“But you do what you gotta do.  I’ll get over it.  Good luck with Caroline.”

“Okay,” he said.  He shifted position a little.  “Sorry.”

“Okay,” she replied.

“Bye, then.”

She didn’t reply.  She sat on the mattress, listening and feeling out as he left through the front door, then hiked off back toward home.

She didn’t want to go home tonight.  That would make her feel worse.

“Butthead,” she muttered.

She didn’t know what to do with herself.  She reached for her bag, which she’d put by the door back when she’d turned up with Bracken, Mal, and Melissa, and it was just out of reach.  She ended up taking far longer in the process of fumbling for it than it would have taken if she’d actually stood up, walked over, got it, and sat back down.

She started to do spell cards, which was a meditative thing, usually.  She got one and a half done before feeling like she’d lose her mind if she continued.

Tashlit was too hard to talk to.  She’d turned Verona down for the familiar thing.

It stung.  Losing the friendship for such stupidity.  For Caroline.

Lying back on the mattress, Verona texted Avery.

Verona:
jeremy ended the friendship.
wants to date.
am lonely.  sucks.

She lay there, staring at the screen, before remembering Avery was going out that night for reconnaissance with the ongoing thing with Musser.

There might not be a response for hours and hours.

She’d thought Avery would maybe understand.  With the thing with Olivia.  Her best friend from her homeschooling days.

She thought of calling Lucy.  But the whole thing about Jeremy and doing right by Jeremy over the summer sort of hung over this like a dark cloud.  It made her feel like she was being unfair to Jeremy even in how she’d replied to him tonight.  And she didn’t want to dig into that.  One thing that Lucy said about it, that pushed those buttons… Verona was worried they’d break what they were slowly trying to regrow.

Random phone call at nine at night, to maybe inevitably cry over an ended friendship?

What kind of parent would be up for that?  Outside of tv and movie dramas?  Or parents of five year olds, patiently tolerating everything their kid got dramatic over, whether it was an imaginary friend or an obsession over a toy?

It kind of felt like when the chips were down, and things mattered most, everyone she knew let her down.  Sometimes it wasn’t their fault.  Sometimes it was just that she was a weird peg trying to fit into a not so weird hole and the ‘hole’ in this case was life.  Or other people’s lives.

She got up after about an hour, went home, and set up the things she’d need to stay the night at the House on Half Street.  Her demesne.

She could not tolerate her dad right now.  She’d lose it.  Then he’d lose it.

Got her stuff, set up the connection block, wards, got supplies, left without him waking up from his late evening nap.

Walked around downtown, hoping for something to fight.  Someone to hurt.  Somewhere she was needed.

The Undercity was okay.  Stew Mullen was dumber than a chicken with a head injury, and the Witch and Vice Principal had a truce.

It was two in the morning by the time her legs were too tired and she ended up back at her demesne.  She kicked off her shoes, took off her jeans, pulled on pyjama pants, pulled off her sweater, and made sure that she had all the supplies she needed- flashlight, spell cards, weapons.  Just in case.  It was her space, she controlled who accessed it, but it was a good habit to have.  Being ready.

It kept her busy, buying her another five minutes of organization before she was lying in bed, staring up at the images on the ceiling.  Pretty men.

The text reply came back from Avery.

Avery:
just got back from recon. u ok?
want to talk?

Avery had to be tired.

Verona:
in the morning?

At about three in the morning, still sleepless, an idea hit her.

At four, she carried it out almost automatically, unable to convince herself of a better way to release her frustration.

A bit of glamour- getting to be a scarce resource now that Guilherme was Winter.  But she felt like she’d lose her mind from the solitude.

She dressed herself up in cat form.  Then she crossed the city.

Another patrol of sorts.  Like the one she’d done as a witch.  Like she’d done in the undercity.

Checking on Avery’s house.  All ok.  Then across the bridge.  Her house.  her room.

Lucy’s room.

The path she traveled in the west side of Kennet was a bit of a spiral.  Bringing her to Jeremy’s house.

She meowed at the window until he woke up.  He found her and opened the window, leaning down and looking at her with tired eyes.

She was so mad at him, she didn’t mind upsetting his sleep schedule, and she was a cat, so it was harder to empathize, anyway.

He smiled at her.

“Hey, little one,” he whispered.  “Is it cold out there?”

She meowed.

“My mom’s pretty allergic, but I think we can cheat tonight,” he said.  “Strip off my clothes?  Do you want to come in?  Warm up?”

He carried her to the bed, closed the window, then climbed under the covers.  He brought her over to a spot where she rested against his chest, and stroked her.

She could stay like this all night.  Get at the core of what she’d had with him.  Wake up in the morning, head back to her demesne.

A bit of closeness.  Touch.  Something to soothe the same loneliness he’d helped cause.  She felt like she could sleep like this.  He was warm.  She could look at his face and whatever she felt about the ick of relationships, she liked his face.  And his hands.

Even if it was a cheat.  Purely dishonest.  Taking advantage.

Was this an okay connection to make?  If she was supposed to connect with the human side of Kennet?

She’d made it her lowest priority when she’d set up her demesne.  Kennet beneath first, Kennet found second, then this Kennet.  A Kennet where she didn’t fit.

He hadn’t wanted to misrepresent himself to a girl he was with.  She was misrepresenting herself with him, now.

The bad feelings bubbled forth from those ideas.

She pulled away from his hand, and navigated over desk to windowsill.  She meowed.

“Ah,” Jeremy groaned.  He took a few seconds and listened to a few more meows before he got up again.

He opened the window, and she escaped back outside.

Restless and frustrated.  A meteor due to strike in a couple of days, and if she couldn’t catch it, then she lost everything.

None of this helped.

Back to her Demesne.  Back inside, back to being Verona.

She closed the way behind her, shutting out the outside world.


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