Author: Wildbow

Crossed with Silver – 19.13 | Pale

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“You’re still here?” Avery asked.

“I don’t think I’m going anywhere anytime soon,” Gilkey replied.  “Be careful.  The air around me is poisonous.”

“Yeah.  Taking measures.”

“The very measures will be poisoned as well.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Avery asked.

“Keep this short.  Five minutes, little more.  Consider it a hard limit.  It feels like anything more could shorten your life.”

“Okay.  I don’t want to leave things like this though.  This isn’t our last talk.”

“Alright,” Gilkey replied.  “Send someone, though.  Don’t come back yourself, not for at least a year.”

“Okie dokie,” Avery said.  “Sorry this sucks.  I do want to help.”

“Help me by helping me get revenge.  She screwed me over, she put others at risk, both by making me this, and by letting the primeval come this far into a settled area.”

“Maricica then.”

Gilkey was counting under his breath.  “Yes.”

“You saw her become what she is?”

“She was being hunted by more than one thing.  Faerie, I think.  I don’t have much exposure to Fae, being what I am.”

“Understandable,” Avery said.  She watched the diagram she’d drawn up with care.  “The Wild Hunt.”

“Sounds fitting.  She had help from a purple-skinned woman, who gave her a black spike.  Metal.  They were talking strategy.  There was a man, with red hair, red beard.  The Carmine Exile, I think.”

“Sounds like.”

“They needed to shake the pursuit of two pursuers who were unflinching, immovable, too hard to kill or beat.  Even poisoned, the primeval beast was going to eventually get her.”

“Yeah.  So they did this?”

“The spike, to drive her down into a dark place of turmoil, taint her Fae-ness.  The Faerie pursuers- the Wild Hunt, they sensed what she was doing, the degree of taint, and they closed in.  It was timed so they’d have a front row seat.”

“As she became a goddess?”

“The spike plunged her down, but the Carmine Exile, as she explained it, he has say over what gets to emerge, what gets to come up out of dark, violent places.  So he got to lift her up.”

“So she got a dip in a dark bath, I guess?” Avery asked.  She thought of the abyssal beast that had come after them and Reggie.  She thought of Reid, who’d been tainted, according to Raquel.

“More than that.  They were boasting to the Wild Hunt, and I got the impression they believed the boasts, because the Primeval seemed to sense it too.  She has her feet in the Abyss and her head is up in… not heaven.  A place that rains blood, instead.  Power was funneled into her, she’s connected to and worshiped by forces in the deep Abyss, she’s connected up here and enabled by the Carmine.  If someone tries to kill or remove her, it’s going to make a mess.”

“A mess?”

“She’s a conduit.  Divine things, abyssal things.  Blood.  Smash a branch, you get splinters and bits of bark around, right?  But if you cut a pipe?  Or me?  Or her?  Contents spray out.  Remove her?  If you even can, when the Wild Hunt and a primeval couldn’t or wouldn’t?  Abyss sprays up, along with worshipers, divinity empties its way down, along with a lot of blood.”

Avery thought of the death of the Carmine Beast.

“Putting us back to square one,” Avery said the thought aloud.  “Probably a similar effect.  Probably worse.”

“Her side seemed to think she could reform from near-total annihilation, if the Abyssal worshipers sprayed forth and prayed in her name.  The Wild Hunt seemed to think to unmake or undo her, they’d have to retrace her steps, and they weren’t willing to go where she’d planted her feet.  The primeval beast I was poisoning… its heart quickened as it recognized divine power.”

“I think primeval beasts only lost their dominant place in this world when gods started to spring up,” Avery said.

“The spike in her chest.  If I wanted to hurt her, I’d go after that.  I do want to hurt her, but I’m not in a position to go after it.”

“Hm.  Any ideas, Snow?” Avery asked.

Snowdrop shook her head.

The spike.  If it was keeping Maricica Abyssal enough to have her feet in a dark place with worshipers who’d feed her power, or who could emerge and keep her going, maybe removing it would disconnect her from that.

Leaving other problems.  Like the blood and divinity pouring out the other portion of her.

But still… it was something.  Maybe it was something they could use to free the Wild Hunt to go back after her.

She wanted to say more, but she knew the Carmine Exile was probably watching, and he’d be protective of Maricica.

She couldn’t even tell the others, because dreams were out, and any other method of communication might see him warning Maricica.

“I’m not sure that works,” she said, more for the Carmine Exile’s benefit than because she believed it wouldn’t work.  If he was listening, she needed him not to worry and not to warn Maricica.

“Alright…” Gilkey replied, and he sounded a little dejected, pausing like he wanted to say more.

I’m sorry.

Whatever else he’d wanted to say, he didn’t say it, instead telling her, “…you should go.  Time runs out.  I don’t want to poison you.”

“What can I do for you?”

“To start, don’t let your life be another one I end too early.  Stop her.”

“But for like, you as a person.”

“Thirty-nine… thirty-eight… thirty-seven…”

“Beyond revenge?  Anything else?”

He shook his head.  “Go.  Thirty-four… thirty-three…”

She squeezed Snowdrop, then turned to go.

She heard him behind her.

“…thirty-two… thirty-one…”

“Ten… nine… eight… seven… six… five… four… three… two… one.  Papers down, pencils down.  And stay seated.”

Avery leaned back, waiting while the volunteers went down each aisle, picking up the papers.

“And you’re done.  Congratulations, thank you for your hard work, enjoy your Christmas break.”

The response was less than enthusiastic.  Avery remained in her seat for a short bit because her desk opened to the right, with a metal bar on the left attaching her seat to the desk itself, and there were people in the aisle.

And then there were people at the front, clogging the way, talking to the teacher, taking their time finding their bags.  There were only about twelve of the original sixty still in class, but they were apparently the twelve who were best at getting in the damn way.

“Avery, you up for lacrosse next year?  And track?” the teacher asked.

“Lacrosse for sure,” she said, craning her neck to see past people.  “When hockey ends.”

“Good luck.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Same to you, Hui.  Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

So weird, being recognized for stuff that barely got a nod in Kennet.  And like, Gianna was in the room too, but Avery supposed she didn’t give off a ‘does sports’ vibe.

She finally got her bag and escaped.  Nora was in the hallway with some members of her team.  Hui and Gianna from the team followed Avery out.

“Down to the wire?” Nora asked.  “That bad?”

“Yes,” Hui volunteered.

“Not that bad for me,” Avery said.  “I wanted to quintuple-check the test, because I can miss obvious stuff.  Like putting my name down.”

“Oh my god,” Sophy said.  She’d just caught up with the group, apparently having just hit the vending machine for a drink.  “You’ve forgotten to put your name down?  That’s tops ditz energy.”

“Like putting my name down.  I haven’t forgotten to write my name since grade school.  But there was another time they wanted us to put our student number, and I wasn’t sure if it was the one on our library card or student card, so I wanted to ask the teacher, but she was busy, and then I forgot to.”

“I spent the last ten minutes trying to keep from panicking,” Hui said.  “I told myself we could have a joint study session-”

“What the fuck?” Putnam asked.  “School’s over, screw your study session.”

“No, like a study session.  Where we have a planning meeting, how to convince our parents not to ground our asses into next year.  I guess Avery’s not going to be part of that?  She was ditz-proofing herself?”

“One, I’m not that much a ditz, go easy.  Two, sorry, I’ve got so much to do.”

“Tragic.  Gi?”

“I got you, babe,” Gianna said, thumping forearm against Hui’s shoulder.

“I thought your parents weren’t that strict,” Sophy told Hui.

“They’re not, but my dad’s all, ‘if you won’t try at school, you won’t try at work, if you won’t try at work, you won’t make money, so better get used to it’, and cuts off my allowance.”

“Oh no,” Avery chimed in.

“I want in,” Putnam said.  “We can work out a plan for convincing the parents, do a powerpoint, realize it’s futile, then change over to breaking into the school, using our athletic abilities and special skills to go full cat burglar.  Change your grades.”

“Anything we do with Putnam as part of it is going to be so much less efficient,” Hui said.  “She seems insincere even when she’s being sincere.”

“Bitch, what?” Putnam asked.

“See?  Right there,” Hui said.  “You’re great though.”

“Damn right I’m great.”

“Can we bring the boys teams in?” Gianna asked.

“Yes!” Putnam exclaimed, grabbing Gianna by the sleeve.  “Yes.”

“They’ve got to have some dumbasses who need to plan around bad report cards,” Gianna said.  “We need a name.  And slogan.”

“Team fail?” Hui asked.

“You didn’t actually fail, did you?” Nora asked.

“If you ask my parents they think anything less than a seventy is basically a fail,” Gianna replied.

“Team dum-dum.  Play up the self-abuse angle,” Putnam said.  “It only matters when we’re seniors, as a slogan.  Works for the sports stuff, works for school.”

“Bleh,” Hui said.

Nora, standing off to the side, looked a little bewildered.  Avery navigated the group until she was by Nora’s side.  Sophy, coming over, stopped short, trying too hard to look innocuous.

“Don’t slink away,” Putnam told Avery.  “Contribute.”

“She thinks she can get off scott free,” Hui said.  “She was staying to the end to flex on us.”

Uncomfortably close to what Jeanine had been driving at, portraying Avery as if she thought she was better than everyone else.  Not helped by the fact that Hui walked the line of being between Jeanine’s side and Avery’s.

“I’m so terrible at names,” Avery said.  “I threw in a name suggestion for a little guy my cat-loving friend back home-”

“At my old school-!” Putnam, Sophy, and Hui jumped in, not very in-sync.

“Screw off.  I threw in a name suggestion for this one-eyed, runny nosed little guy, I think he still resents me for it.”

“What’d you name him?” Nora asked.

“Snoogie?”

“I love Snoogie,” Putnam said.  There were some added points of agreement.  “Hit us with a team name.”

“Hmmm.  I feel like I’ll make enemies if I go with anything too mean-”

“They can take it,” Putnam said.

“It’s my whole thing,” Hui said, thumping her chest.  “Footwork, endurance, and I can take a hit.  God, I wish women’s lacrosse had more checking.”

“There’s always hockey, my dear,”  Putnam over-acted how consoling she was being, patting Hui’s back.  Hui played into it.

“Hmm.  Team Never-passes?” Avery asked.

“Wow, back off,” Gianna said.  “I didn’t do that badly.”

“I feel so called out,” Hui said.

“Oh!” Gianna startled.  “I missed the pun.”

“Starting to realize why you’re struggling in school,” Sophy chimed in.

“Slogan,” Putnam told Avery.

“I- one idea jumps to mind, but-”

“Now you have to tell us,” Hui told her, folding her arms.

“You’re obligated,” Putnam added.  In true Putnam style, she went straight to over-acting, hands clapped to her heart, tone apologetic.

“Fast on the field, slow in the classroom.”

Hui uncrossed her arms and turned away.

Putnam looked over, then turned back to Avery.  She’d dropped the drama, and visibly winced.  “There’s being clever and there’s being a bitch, and you just crossed the line into bitch.”

“Woah, hey- no,” Avery said.  “Sorry.”

“Full bitch,” Gianna tossed in.

Avery glanced at Nora, who was wide-eyed.

“You said I was obligated.”

“But pull back, hold back, come up with something else, seriously,” Putnam said.  “Jesus.”

People elsewhere in the hallway were turning to look.

“Is this a nightmare?” Avery asked.  “Can we skip to the next part?  Point made.”

“It’s real.  Too real,” Gianna replied.

“I’m not even that fast on the field,” Hui said.  “Does that mean you think I’m slower than that?”

“That’s the first thing that came to your mind for a slogan?” Putnam asked.

Hui wasn’t able to keep a straight face.

“You guys are assholes,” Avery said.

“You’re the asshole!” Putnam exclaimed, angry now.  Then she glanced over.  “Oh, Hui gave it away.”

“Oh man,” Avery said.  “Don’t do that!  You’re not mad, right?”

“Nah,” Hui said.  Gianna shook her head.

“What a good way to burn off exam stress,” Putnam said, smiling.  “I’m so proud of you, my girls, getting on board right away.”

Avery mock-strangled Putnam.

“I hope you guys did okay,” Nora said.  “Keep your allowance and everything.”

“So do I!” Hui said, “maybe I did better than I thought.”

“Can I steal Avery away?” Nora asked.  “I’m busy for most of Christmas, and I won’t have time later.”

“Steal away.”

“Bye!” Avery waved, before joining Nora on the way out.

All the way back at the house, Snowdrop stirred partially awake, taking mental note of Avery and the fact Avery was on the move, then pushed something at Avery.  It was similar to how Avery would sometimes ask Snow to take fatigue away from her, but this time, it was coming the other way.  Cold?

Avery shivered a bit, absorbing about seventy-five percent of a cold draft coming Snowdrop’s way, leaking in around the garage door.  Which let Snowdrop turn over, belly up in the garage, basking in the light shining in through the garage door window, before dozing off again.

You dink.  Avery jammed her hands in her pockets.  You could’ve moved a bit instead.

But she took it, anyway.  Snowdrop fielded a lot of minor crap.

She and Nora had to find space to talk that wasn’t too close to any groups, and that was hard with the way people were gathering outside, talking, making plans, and calling or waiting to get picked up.

Her bracelet clicked.  She saw Jeanine in the crowd with Oli and some of the girls from sports.  It was kind of becoming a dividing line where Jeanine was holding onto the people from track, and Avery had never been that into track, except when practices were joint- Coach Artrip’s attempt at getting her a taste of track and field.

And… she looked, then startled.  Sophy was at the door, peering past the glass, trying to look like she wasn’t spying.

“Still good to come?” Avery asked.

Nora nodded.  “But like I mentioned, my mom wants to cram extra time with me before I go.  I don’t think I’ll be able to hang out much.”

“I’ve got a lot too,” Avery said.

“Shopping.”

“Oh, that too.  I actually should really get going.  The next few days are going to be nuts, if I want to be free on Christmas day.”

“I thought.  You sounded on edge about stuff this morning.  I figured I could pull you away for selfish reasons, but also, if you need to go, my feelings won’t be hurt.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Avery said.  “I think Sophy wants to talk to you, too.  She’s been hanging at the fringes for a bit now.”

Nora looked.  “Oh.  Maybe she wants to talk to you, not me.”

“Let’s see.”  Avery waved Sophy over.

“I know things are busy, but talk later?” Nora asked.  “Video call before bed?”

“Yeah.  I’ll try, for sure.  Can’t easily promise, but…”

“I like the-”  Nora stopped as Sophy approached.  “One sec?  Sorry.”

Sophy stepped back out of the way, rocking on the spot, looking at everything but Nora and Avery.  She put earbuds in.

Nora dropped her voice.  “-I like the routine.  Talking before we sleep.  Or even texting, when you don’t want to bother your sister.”

“Same!  For sure.  But I might be traveling, or busy.  I don’t want to promise.”

“Okay,” Nora looked side to side.

“What?”

“Make it up to me if you can’t?  Don’t go silent on me before Christmas when we have plans.”

“For sure.  Uh, like, I’m thinking of my friend, she wanted cat pictures.”

“I don’t care about cats.”

“What about pictures of me posing with Snowdrop?”

“That’ll do,” Nora said.  “Anything that doesn’t leave me hanging and wondering what’s going on.”

“For sure.  I like you being assertive.”

“I’m not sure if it’s assertiveness or organized anxiety.”

“It’s good.  I like it.  I think we’re good?  Sophy?”

Sophy was listening to music, watching the crowd.

“Sophy!” Avery raised her voice.

She and Nora reached over simultaneously to jostle Sophy, who jumped.

“Sorry,” Avery told her.  “Owe you a soda or something, okay?”

“Whatever.  Nora.  Let’s talk band.”

“I’m not sure what I can do about the band, my mom wants to cram family time in before Christmas.”

“Then let’s talk band fast.”

“I’m going to go,” Avery said.

“I want to email you the lyrics Stuart’s been working on.  Get your feel for them.  He wants to work in some percussion between some of the song lines, but I think they’ll sound like, you know, badum tsch?  Punchline riff?”

“Yeah,” Nora replied.

“Have to do it right.  I want to send you sound files too big for texts, and if you’re busy, we should work out something to do in the time between, like sharing music we like and want to copy.”

Nora nodded with some enthusiasm.  “That sounds good.  I can do that.  I’ve got playlists with about three thousand songs on them, where I like the sound.  I could link you them.”

Avery smiled a bit.  She liked how hard Nora went at the music stuff, completely out of nowhere.

“Let’s cut that down to like, thirty max.  Maybe fifteen, depending on how many other people are coming up with…”

Avery touched Nora’s arm to get her attention as Sophy went on, waved a farewell, and then headed off, leaving them to it.

“Ave!” Sophy called out.

“What’s up?” Avery asked, turning to walk backwards while also dodging a group of people.

“Exams are done, treat yourself!  Happy holidays, enjoy the rest, see you next year?”

“Happy holidays!”

Avery was pretty sure there wouldn’t be rest.

For so many people here, the countdown to turn over the last of their exam papers had been a relief.  Weeks of mounting stress before a semester was done and tied up, finished.

But for Avery, this brief respite aside, it was the very start of stuff she needed respite from.

Market, Musser, Promenade, she needed to clear the way for travel, last of the Christmas shopping, helping Gilkey, a low-key Christmas eve and morning with family.

If she couldn’t get it done, she wasn’t sure what she’d do, so she had to get it done.

Four days.  She had four days.

Too many people were counting on her.

She broke into a run.

“Someone in the Garricks tipped off Wunderkand,” Jude’s dad said.

“What?” Avery asked, alarmed.  “About the Promenade?”

“Yeah,” Jude replied.

“And they got a payday, I’m sure, or a job, or Wunderkand found them on the paths and spellbound them to tip them off if we were close to anything juicy, or something.  All we know is Wunderkand is sniffing around.  They made two attempts at getting into the Promenade already.”

“That’s good, we can take them,” Snowdrop said.

Avery leaned back.  She watched as the digital model of the Promenade unfolded around her.  It wasn’t quite how she’d seen it, but the basics were there.  There was the Promenade station, where they’d entered and where she and Snowdrop had done the familiar ritual.  There were the shops down the center, the three walkways, the train stops…

In this version, probably drawn from someone’s specific take, pouring water gushed down silently, in violent, frothing, waterfall-like curtains that left only slight gaps past the railings.  Things moved within those waterfalls, badly rendered.

Avery fidgeted.  “They tried and failed?”

“Correct,” Jude’s dad said.

“So whoever tipped them off knows about the Promenade, but isn’t in the loop enough to know about the extra measures we put into place?” Avery asked.

“Correct again.  That gives us a fairly narrow band of suspects.  We’re going-”

“Peter Garrick,” a disembodied Zed interrupted.

Painted in amber shades, Peter Garrick, head of the Garrick family, stepped out of the shadows.  He joined Jude and Jude’s dad.  “Sorry I’m late.  Internal stuff.”

“We were talking about it,” Jude’s dad said.

“I wish I was there for that, Cliff.”

“Okay.  Want me to wait next time?”

“I want there to never be a next time for this sort of betrayal.”

Peter looked at Avery.  “Sorry, but I need to know.”

“It wasn’t me, I haven’t intentionally given up any information, I don’t want this, I don’t like it, I hate that it’s screwing things up when things are already complicated.  My only interaction with Wonderkand has been pre-founding, at least that I remember.”

“Have you been on Paths?” Peter asked.  “Could’ve run into one, been made to forget.”

“Went over that,” Cliff said.

Avery shook her head.  “Not much lately.  If I was, I think the Carmine Exile would’ve gotten snarly at me.  Only really been using Paths to quick travel, but it was pretty brief, mainly to get around.  I think I would’ve noticed something odd.  Like, my dad was waiting for me the one time.”

“Fuck.  I almost wanted it to be you.  What did they gain?  A ten thousand dollar payout?  A shit corporate job?  This is the sort of thing that can make our family.”

“Avery,” Zed interrupted.

“Yeah?” Avery asked, raising her head.  She and Snowdrop were painted in shades of pink.

“Your mom is trying to call you.  It sounds like she wants to be included, if you’re doing anything business-related that’s not going to be complicated by her participating.”

“Really?”

“It’s what she says,” Zed replied.

“Weird.  Hm.  Can you loop her in?”

“She’s innocent,” Zed pointed out.

“I’d rather keep this simple,” Peter Garrick said.

“And I’d rather loop her in if she wants to be looped in,” Avery said, as assertive as she could manage.  Her mom hadn’t actually wanted to be part of stuff to this degree.  Her dad had engaged with it a lot more.

So if her mom was wanting in now?  She wouldn’t say no.

“Let’s,” Cliff said.  “As soon as we tackle the question of Innocence.  Do we log off, do this through video call, Zed showing us on computer screens?”

Avery shook her head.  “She’s Aware, so it’s a complicated Innocence.  Hmmm.  Let it be known, America Tedd has claimed responsibility for the Awareness of my mother, Kelsey Kelly, and what she cannot claim, I will claim for myself.  Talk about whatever.  It’s okay.”

“You’re not really holding back, huh?” the disembodied Zed asked.

“No.  Can’t.”

“I’m jealous.  Okay.  Going to walk her through joining the video call.”

“Where were we?” Avery asked.

“Me ranting,” Peter said.

“Okay, uh, before my mom joins, just saying, you guys are my example of a mostly functional practitioner family.  It’d be cool if we could ease her worries some.”

“Fuck me, I don’t feel functional,” Peter Garrick said.

“No,” Cliff agreed.  “Hurts.”

“What hurts?” Avery’s mom asked, as she appeared.  Cast in pink shades like Avery and Snowdrop, her image wasn’t as good a resolution as anyone else’s.  It clarified over time, and Avery could see faint images as pictures that had been uploaded online were used as reference, popping up and disappearing around her, like buzzing, teleporting flies.

“Hold your phone up to your face so the camera can see you?” Zed asked.

The image of Avery’s mom clarified by a lot.

“There we go.  You can put the phone down, back to your ear, whatever,” Zed said.

“I’m seeing things.  But if I turn my head too fast, I’m back in my car.”

“Then stay with us.  As long as you’re not driving,” Cliff said.  “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Kelly.”

“Kelsey.  And of course I’m not driving.”

“I thought you’d want to be part of this, mom.  Easier than explaining to you after, and you don’t have to wonder if I’m leaving stuff out,” Avery told her.

“Okay.  What’s this about?”

“It’s complicated,” Peter Garrick said, looking and sounding deeply unhappy.

Avery tried explaining, “Someone in the Garrick family betrayed the family business.  Gave a big corporation tips about the big project they haven’t fully finished.  Now it’s a race to see who figures it out.”

“About sums it up.”

“Who are we thinking?” Cliff asked.  “I can’t help but notice Reece isn’t here.”

Reece was the dad of the two cousins of Jude’s he’d brought to the Build Up and the pre-founding path spree.

“Don’t think it’s Reece.  Or if it is, he doesn’t know.”

“He’s been a little put out that he’s not in the loop about the Avery stuff.”

“I asked him outright.”

Avery’s mom looked at her.  “What stuff?”

Avery lowered her voice, “I’m pretty good at this stuff, and I have the inside scoop through Miss, so Jude and his immediate family, they’re kind of their own mini-branch of the family, they got points for establishing a good working relationship with me.  Peter is head of the family, and it took a bit for me to clue in I was being rude, but I’ve started working with him too.  But I guess Reece isn’t part of that, so he’s feeling rejected?”

“Yeah,” Cliff said.  Apparently he’d heard Avery well enough.  “But he’s ruled out?”

“Yeah,” Peter answered.  “And he knows the extra measures we set up.”

“Could’ve held them back.  Gave them a taste, while seeing if he could ask for more for the keys.”

“If he did, he’s unaware.  I trust him enough after talking to him, I put him on the task of watching others.”

“Only names that jump to mind, who know enough, but not too much…” Cliff rumbled, musing aloud.  “Walt’s of a retiring age.”

“Got eyes on Walt, but I think I trust him.  Talks too much about planting saplings that future Garricks can enjoy the shade of.”

“Then… hate to even bring it up, considering…”

“Yeah,” Peter said.  “Reece is watching ’em.”

Avery went through her mental map of the Garricks.  Peter, Cliff-Jude, and Reece were the main branches, most involved in the active Path running, with the rest contributing here and there, or doing their own types of things, like writing books.

“Is there a reason you’re not saying?” Avery asked.

“Stings if true, is all,” Peter said.

There was only one extended branch of the family that consistently evoked strong emotions, putting the rest on the back foot.

“Probably best if we all know,” Zed said.  He appeared, cast in blue, with Nina in his company.  “Especially if I’m handling communications and simulations like this.”

“Poppy’s parents?” Avery asked.  “Um, Shane and-”

“Shane and Kimber,” Peter said.

“Poppy died,” Avery murmured to her mom.  “They got a lot of flex and freedom, naturally.  Right now the active family units are Peter’s, Cliff’s, and Reece’s, but it used to be Peter’s, Cliff’s, and Shane’s.  Shane backed off, so it… sucks if they took advantage.”

“Sucks is putting it lightly,” Cliff said.  “You’ve got it right.”

“For the record?” Zed commented.  “Can’t really  be quiet or whisper in a space like this.”

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry, I was trying to fill her in, I hope I wasn’t disrespectful.”

“You’re fine,” Peter said.  “You’re right.”

“I’m sorry for the loss of your… niece?” Avery’s mom asked.

“Niece,” Cliff agreed, nodding.

“Bit of a way of getting away from it all?” Avery asked.  “If they can’t get over the loss… it makes a kind of sense to try to cut ties and distance yourself from- from everything?  Obviously it’s horrible, but…”

“I paid their mortgage for three years,” Peter said, arms folded.  “Paid their property taxes.  Tried to get them in a position where they could get out from under the medical bills.  Kept them on the payroll even when they weren’t-”

He stopped, shaking his head.

He was a digital representation of a man, captured on webcam and translated to a three dimensional image, supported by various other pictures and feeds stored online.  Avery could still see how deep the hurt ran.

“I hope it’s not them,” Avery said.

“Whoever it is, it’s something we’ll lose sleep over.  I’m sorry, Mrs. Kelly-” Peter quickly corrected to, “Kelsey.  This isn’t normally us.  I’d call this a once a generation type kind of family drama, but I don’t think my father or grandfather dealt with anything like it.”

“This Promenade business is a lot of money, isn’t it?” Avery’s mom asked.  “I think any family can run into that, around inheritances or lottery winnings.”

“Yeah.  I thought we were better than that,” Peter said.

“I’m sorry it’s happening.”

“Let’s get down to business, then,” Peter declared.  “Plan was to do some test runs and then give the Promenade an honest shot.”

“I’ve rendered the best depiction of it I can with what I was given,” Zed told them.  “Nina’s looked over the notes to see if any threads can be pulled out. I’ve highlighted some.”

“Let’s walk and talk.  Zed and his Other are sworn to secrecy.  Avery?  Your mother.”

“I’ll keep an eye on things.  I don’t know the specifics for access anyway.”

“I wouldn’t know who to tell,” Avery’s mom said.  “I’d talk to the other girls or Jasmine, but if you want me to keep quiet-”

“Please,” Cliff said.  “To be safe.”

“Okay.”

They walked into the simulated Promenade.

Peter explained, “Test runs with various forms of movement didn’t change anything about the Wolf’s arrival.  But we have a theory.  We can stop the clock by interfering with the various clocks on display, we can hang off the edge, we can restrict comings and goings by holding onto ropes and wires, we can trade, we can change our fortunes by taking on certain errands…”

“Go over that one with me?” Avery asked.

“Ticket booth, post office, bookstore-”

Nina gripped Zed’s jacket in two places.

“-shop that stands out above the rest, and a few other places we’ve been able to identify.  Go in, there’s ways to take on a job.  While you’re in that job, you can break from rules you were following.  Like the set pattern of movement.”

Avery nodded.  “Okay.”

“Deliver a letter to someone who’s moving in an odd pattern, get a cow to the butcher’s, when it has its own movement… things that seem like more trouble than they’re worth, but I’ll get back to that.”

Avery nodded.  She glanced up at her mom, who was looking around.

“You get the outfits as boons, and Promenade currency,” Jude said.  “They change your outfit on the spot, send you on your way.  I got a pretty spiffy postman outfit.”

“Postman Jude?” Avery asked.

“Tess insists on calling it cute.  It’s spiffy.”

“I think if you’re that spiffy, enough you’re saying it twice, that makes me think you deserve respect.”

“Thank you,” Jude said.  He turned.  “Wait.  It’s Snowdrop saying that.”

“It’s a good word to go to,” Snowdrop said.  “Evokes positive, cool sentiment.”

Jude groaned.

“I like ‘spiffy’ as an idea,” Zed said.

“Does the outfit have associated powers?” Avery asked.

“Relax some rules of Paths, but tacks on some annoying side stuff.”

“That sounds pretty good.”

“Can be,” Jude said.  “Even if we stick with this, we might end up with a situation like Wonderkand has, where they give their best members magic outfits.”

“Neat.  I might like to grab those so I have ’em.”

“We were hoping you would,” Cliff said.  “We were going to ask Walt to test things, put his familiar in an outfit, see if he could leech the protections while letting the familiar handle the errand.  But things are shaky, obviously, and it gets iffy, if we’re asking Walt to run the path.”

“It’s good because his familiar was a resident of the Paths, once,” Peter said.

“What was it?” Avery asked.

“Envoy of Doubt.  Lurked the paths, offered a deal to people.  Like a localized little Hungry Choir thing, but it was about suspicion and doubt.  Let people choose something, and they’d get the benefit of a doubt, or people would ignore key evidence, or they could choose a statement or truth, and people would give it a hard, doubting second look.  Let criminals get away with crimes, let certain lies travel around the world before the Truth had his shoes on, let people ensure someone didn’t get away with something.  But it was a double-edged sword.  Whatever you asked for, it’d come back at you, for something you’d said or done.  Could be in the past, retroactive, could be now, could be in the future.”

“Seems like a pretty raw deal,” Avery said.

“An Envoy’s deals tend to be.  Like your Choir, not wanting too many people to succeed.  It becomes a question of finding the right people.  An academic who built their career on a false study, for example.  Or a crime boss about to see it all crumbling down.  Or a schoolchild who saw someone they hated get away with something.  Get desperate or hold enough hate in your heart, maybe the deal seems worth it.”

Avery looked up at her mom.  “So that’s a thing, huh?”

“I can’t imagine,” her mom said.  “But it sounds like it could be life ruining on both sides.  I could imagine myself doing it, if the wrong thing approached me on the wrong day.”

“Really?” Avery asked.

“Remind me to tell you about my worst university class ever, sometime.  I’m not a saint.  If there was a deal like that, to get rid of that professor I hated to the core of my being, on the worst day, before I dropped the class instead, took an extra year to finish?  Maybe.”

“It’s hard to imagine you hating anyone.”

“I’ll tell you sometime.  But I don’t want to distract from what you’re doing.”

“I thought it’d be handy for Musser, call him out on something, but it seems like it would backfire,” Avery said.

“It backfires on principle,” Jude said.  “That’s the whole idea.”

“I mean beyond that, you goofus.  Musser would turn it back on us, I think.”

“I’d rather not get into that,” Peter said.  “We’re trying to stay more neutral.  The offer to transport people out of Kennet, served both sides, it’s good.  This?  Not while Garricks can hear or be implicated, please.”

“Sorry.”

“Speaking more generally?  Was more of a thing in the old days.  Eye for an eye.  Doubt for a doubt.  Wound for a wound,” Peter said.  “Mostly we steer clear.  But the Envoy ended up on a Path, stranded there by someone who expected it to pay a price, got tangled up in that Path’s rules.  Happens a lot, apparently.  Walt rescued it.”

Avery frowned.  “Doesn’t that complicate investigating him?  Like how I was dealing with a Forsworn murderer?  Where we felt like we instinctively suspected him, so we pulled back and like, didn’t suspect him enough?”

“Wait, does it?” Jude asked.

Cliff smiled, turning to Avery’s mom.  “I like this girl.”

“Already accounted for,” Peter said.  “Let us worry about that?”

Avery nodded.

“Long story short, Walt’s familiar has enjoyed a fifty year vacation from their envoy duties with Walt, but they’re not friendly, it does some chores for him as he gets older, he mostly ignores it.  When he dies, they’ll go back to the job.  If Walt could run this path with more confidence, we would have tested it out.  But if you wanted to, we’d support you on a short visit, to see if Snowdrop can handle an errand, or if you can borrow from her to make it easier.”

“I’m not really comfortable running around on my own,” Snowdrop told him.  “I’m not great on the Paths.”

“Are the outfits transferrable?” Avery asked.  “Could I get a bookstore outfit-?”

“Yes,” Nina said.  “Sensible.”

“-and give it to Verona?  Since she’s starting a bookstore?”

“Also sensible.  Zed told me about that,” Nina said.

“I want to talk to you after about that,” Avery said.  “But can I?”

“Custom fit,” Jude said.  “Doesn’t work.  Outfits should grow up with you.”

“Huh, okay.”

“Exactly,” Cliff said.  “Anyway, errands are under Fortune.”

Avery counted.  “That’s Time with the clocks, Fate with the cords, War with the edge, Fortune with random jobs…”

“Used some hints and magic items to figure out one of the others,” Peter said.  “If you’re in the shade, or if you’re eating Promenade or Lost food, rules are relaxed, and if you’re eating in a shaded area, you’re free and clear until you’re done.”

“Sometimes the sunlight is rain and it’s staying dry,” Jude said. “It’s about shelter.”

“Right,” Avery said.

“This is all baffling,” Avery’s mom said.

“Weird place with weird rules,” Avery said.  “So if I sat down to tea with the old Lost ladies I saw?  I’d be okay?”

“Yep, kind of,” Cliff said.

“Kind of?” Avery asked.

“Get to that soon.  Anyway, there’s your Nature.  Two things for Nature, like with Fortune.”

“See the promenade entrance?” Jude asked, turning and pointing.

Avery turned.

“Everything inside is in shade,” Avery noted.

“We think it’s scaled,” Jude said.  “So big shade or great food, more protection.”

“Okay.”

“And we don’t know what Death is, but speculation is it’s to do with falling off or the exit,” Peter said.

“Makes sense,” Avery told them.  “Or the temporary exit?  Leaving and coming back?”

Cliff looked over.  “Could be.  Huh.  We could’ve been missing the forest while looking for individual trees, huh?”

“Which gets us to the catch,” Peter said.  “What we figure, partially validated by our test runs, is these things are a limited resource.  We think we get twelve.  That’d be twelve stops of the clock, or six wire pulls plus six edge hangs.  Could be two of each of the six.”

“Total, shared by everyone present,” Jude added.  “We think if I do most of this, use eight, you come on, you start, you inherit the eight.  And the Wolf comes from all sorts of directions.  Sometimes obvious, sometimes sneaky.  Path has to be clear of non-Lost before it resets the count.”

“And we need two trips on the train?” Avery asked.  “If that’s the Death one?  For departure?”

Peter nodded.

“We were going to test it out,” Cliff said.  “Came to the Promenade from another Path, found Wonderkand at the door.  We traced things back, asked Zed.”

“They were tipped off.”

“And that’s where we’re at,” Peter said.  “The shelter and food thing under Nature and the fact we can either run errands or barter under Fortune… means there’s a chance there’s multiple ways to trigger each one.  We want to test, make sure it’s really a count of twelve.  Then we were saying we’d want to keep it down to eight things triggered out of twelve, so we don’t stumble on a few more and get the Wolf after us.  Which means keeping a core team.  Anyone else, they rope out at the first sign of trouble.  For the core group, we stop the flow of things only if we’re in a pinch.”

“If bartering for the tickets is Fortune, we’re potentially even more limited,” Cliff noted.  “Four people is eight barters.  If you count the departures… we’re already over.”

“Have to barter and travel separately,” Snowdrop said.

“Or that,” Cliff said.  “That’s a pain to coordinate, isn’t it?”

“Not at all,” Snowdrop said.

“All of us landing on spaces adjacent to someone who’ll tell us how to get tickets, in the same move?” Peter asked.

“Which, if you break it down?” Avery asked.  “If we barter twice, have to run an errand each time, potentially the same places that give out the outfits, leave twice on trains, assuming I’m right…”

“Already that’s six, with a lot of coordination,” Peter said.  “And I think I get your drift.”

“It sounds really restrictive,” Avery noted.  “It’s sure looking like we have to do two things for each of the six pillars.”

“Rumors from people like Avery’s tea ladies are the surefire way to know who to go to in order to barter for tickets,” Jude said.  “Or we can just try multiple times and keep the two uses for other things.”

“So there’s leeway,” Cliff said.

“Either way, if we assume we want to do this by the book, and it’s looking a lot more rigid than it seemed… that’s sitting down to eat or drink and get rumors, run the errand to get the means of getting the ticket, use the ticket to leave, run the other path, repeat… that’s eight,” Peter said.

“What do you want to bet stopping the clock and doing the edge hang become necessary?” Avery asked.  “Nine and ten, then eleven and twelve.”

“Wolf,” Jude said.  “Might be Wolf after twelve, we don’t know.”

Avery ran her fingers through her hair, before remembering she was a digital avatar.  “Miss might have navigated it okay because she’s Lost and some of this is intuitive.  Like, Snowdrop seems comfortable with the idea of running the errand.”

“Except the animal herding one, that one sounds awful,” Snowdrop said.

“So that might be it?” Avery asked.  “You move like a chess piece of your own design, avoiding the smiling Others who are trying to interfere, following a routine.  Eat in the shade and get a rumor, do a job to get what you need to pay for the ticket, use the ticket, travel.”

“Probably stopping along the way to pause time and get the lay of the land, organize your next moves,” Peter said.  “Probably using the edge to avoid a smiling Other in a pinch.”

“Take too long, too many others build up.  Rush, you run the risk of making a mistake,” Avery said.  “There’s leeway.  A lot of this stuff, you can buy yourself flex.  So if we recognize a Lost on the Promenade as someone who barters, that saves us a step.”

“And gives us one thing we can use- a pause, a rumor, a bartering for an item…” Peter said.

“I bet-” Avery paused.  “Yeah.  Okay, a lot of this, it rewards being Lost.  Being native to the area.  Probably to the point they don’t think about it.  If you move perfectly you don’t need to use the edge to dodge smiling Others, if you’re moving easily, according to the natural flows, you probably don’t care about pausing for time to figure out the lay of the land.  Errands are easier…”

“And, to build on the second big hint Miss provided,” Zed cut in.  “There’s a logic to how things are laid out- the shops move between when you leave and come back.  Probably second nature to a Lost, who can see things by weird angles.”

“Can it be second nature to us?” Peter Garrick asked.  “Or do we need to borrow help from Walter’s envoy, Avery’s opossum, or one of the familiars one of our less experienced runners have?”

“I did something up in the computer, to show you guys the arrangements.  Nina deciphered the patterns in signs and symbols.  Want to guess how many special shops there are?”

“Magic number seems to be twelve,” Peter said.

“Yep.  Here, let me show you the permutations.”

“Can I borrow Nina while you do that?”  Avery asked.  To the Garricks, she explained, “Zed already ran this by me, to check if it lined up okay with my practical experience.”

“That’s fine, I think,” Zed said.  “I can put you two on a separate line.  I’ll bug you if we need you?”

“Shouldn’t be long,” Avery said.

The Garricks and Zed faded out.  Their voices became muffled and quiet.

“Hi,” Avery said, to Nina.

The librarian animus smiled.  “Hello.  It sounds like your friend is doing exciting things.  Hello, Kelsey.”

“Nina is an animus.  Like the dog tags.  But she collects information, reads and collects books, shares knowledge.”

“That sounds a lot more positive.”

“Verona’s setting up a bookstore,” Avery said.  “And occasionally a market stall.”

“I know!  Zed told me.  She asked him about PSBN numbers and registering obscure texts.  Made my day.”

“I think she was inspired a bit by you.”

“That makes my day again.”

“I’ve already kind of got a Christmas present for her, but I was also sort of wondering, in the interest of doing two things at once… would you happen to be able to help us figure out additional lines or sources of books?”

“How many days do you have for me to prattle at you?” Nina asked.

“I should leave in, like, half an hour, to eat dinner.  So… one forty-eighth of a day?”

“Okay,” Nina said, unfazed.  “I want a book from her bookstore to keep.”

“We get vetoes,” Avery said.  “Just in case there’s some, I dunno, Excalibur of books buried in a box.”

“That’s a possibility?” Nina asked.  “Well now I have to visit.  Even if I don’t get a book.  Vetoes, okay.”

“To expedite, I swear that if I can’t work out payment after talking to Verona, I won’t share or use what you say,” Avery said.

“That works.  And what do you need?”

“I- a supply line of books?”

“I need more details.  What does she have?”

“Books from a Founded place.  Books that were never written.  Some goblin books.  One or two Abyssal ones she was excited about.  Occasional weird practitioner texts.”

“I’ve been to a few of those.  Always fun.  That sounds wonderful.”

“Most of the books are bartered for with local Lost, but we’re not sure how long that holds up if she gets a customer base.  Or, like, if she only sells so many books a day, how sustainable is that?”

“I’m not a businesswoman.  I’m a connoisseur of knowledge.”

“Yeah.”

“But I assume she needs someone willing to sell her books she can sell on at a profit.”

“Yes.  She might be willing to break even, just for the power she gets from selling.”

“What are your priorities?” Nina asked.

“First off, honestly, just getting people to the market, or supplying stuff for the market.  Second, good books for Verona’s store, if they’re not willing to come or work with us.”

“I can tell you of one bookseller who is struggling, his area’s changed.  Human, collects obscure texts.  Can I have your email?”

“You can’t have it, but I’ll tell you it,” Avery said, before reciting her old email she still had from her old school district.”

“And sent.  It’ll be waiting for you later.  Another bookstore in Montreal, it’s run by an elf.”

“Like, big elf, little elf?  What’s an elf?”

“Fae-related, but not a fairy.  More… other direction, I would say,” Nina explained.  “If small-f fairies are mischief, small thinkers, and temporary, not very prone to writing, Fae are schemers, complex thinkers, and lasting… they can write some wonderful poetry and clever pieces of literature, but often they’ll be distracted making the book pretty instead of making the contents richer.”

“Of course.  I can see that.”

“Elves are at the opposite end of the spectrum from the small-f fairies.  Deep thinkers, removed, very serious, rooted in the oldest places in the deepest parts of realms, particularly the most remote and intense Fae woodlands, mountains, chasms…”

“Huh.”

“They write epics.  I am an avid reader, as you can imagine.”

“No way,” Snowdrop said.

“It’s true,” Nina said.  “And even those elven epics can be a little much for me.  Take from that what you will.  But everyone should read one in their lifetime.  I imagine most mortals can only get through one in their lifetime.”

“But about the bookstore?”

“Oh!  It’s lovely.  Quaint, very pretty, the disguised elf that runs it is miserable, being as close to humanity as he is, misery that deep gives the store quite the atmosphere, it soaks into the wood and paper.  He’s created side rooms and dug a hole that goes about three miles deep, with bookshelves all the way down.  Obscure texts and odd bits of writing throughout.  It’s marvelous.  It’s how he whiles away his eternity.”

“Huh.”

“He barely stays in business, I worry so.  He needs to earn money to keep the store and avoid being homeless, but he hates having customers.  Drives them away.  Except for me.  I do count as an exception.”

“And he’d sell to the market?  Or Verona?”

“I imagine he’d prefer it!  I’ve told him how email works.  He does some business online.  I’ve sent you his information.”

Nina ran through about four more vendors and sources for books.  Avery politely took the information for one bookstore of cursed books, but privately suspected she’d avoid following up on that.

Zed was signaling them, and Nina was getting into some weird stuff, so they cut it short.

“Get what you needed?” Zed asked.

“Supporting the market in Kennet,” Avery told him.  “I think so.  I owe Nina a book, or I can’t use the information I got.”

“Let me know if I can facilitate that,” Zed said.  “We covered the stuff I talked to you about.”

“Cool,” Avery said.  “So what’s next?”

“We need to work fast,” Peter Garrick said.  “Or Wonderkand will snipe us.  They’ll figure out key parts of this in hours, where it took us days.  Plan was to run this four or five times, do a practice run or two with you, then run it proper, in a serious attempt at finishing.”

Avery nodded.  “But?”

“But we can’t afford that.  Once we’ve rooted out our sellout, we’re going to cram in as much as we can, to figure out the parts we haven’t sorted yet.  Probably pulling an all-nighter, maybe two.  Working in shifts.  We were talking before the call, want you as part of it.  Since hammering out what we did here, I believe it even more.”

Avery frowned.  “Going that hard, there’s room for more errors.”

“There is.”

“I’ve got so much going on… I wasn’t planning on devoting this much time to the Promenade.”

“I said before, the betrayal of one of our own?  Not even a once in a lifetime thing.  The Promenade?  Same deal.  And it comes down to the next few days.  Can we get this and secure it?  If we can finish it, we can set up protections and lock it down against other practitioners on multiple vectors.  If they beat us to it?  They will do the same.  It’s how they operate.”

“We’ll pay,” Cliff told her.  “You’re competent, you have a familiar-”

“You guys have some Lost familiars, right?”

“Some.  But we don’t have many good Path runners with workable familiars who we can get up to speed on time,” Cliff said, turning to Peter.

“It should be underlined, and said emphatically, I’m unworkable,” Snowdrop told Avery.

“It’s really a lot,” Avery said.  “At a bad time.”

“The way I see this happening?” Peter ventured, arms folded.  “Right now, we’re a mess.  Betrayal in our ranks.  If we do this, we’re doing it with me, Cliff, Reece, our wives as a core team.  We go in expecting maybe four of the core members to make it through.  Our kids and extended family, minus the traitors, is in there to support and act as relays, keep track, be eyes on the scene, either on the field or hanging back in the shade of the Promenade entrance.”

“If we board a train, they leave the Promenade, let it reset properly, come back.”

“If one of us gets in a bad spot, cornered, whatever, we rope out.  Next in line takes up the slack.  We can pass the tickets on if we have to.”

Avery nodded.

“You’re quick, you’re powerful, you’re good at this, you know the Promenade, you have a unique relationship to Lost, you have inside information, you have a familiar that may be key as far as utility goes.  You’re probably on par with Reece or Shane in the old days, Walt in his prime, maybe you’re stronger.  So if it comes down to it?  We want you on this. One of our core team has to drop?  You pick up where they left off, best you can.  Excluding some eldest kids, you’re up on the list,” Peter said.

“I hear you, I appreciate this, but like… you’re talking about going hard at this.  Forty-eight hours or more of drilling this, problem solving, working out the rules, and I’m not sure I have those forty-eight hours.”

“Forty thousand,” Peter said.  “U.S. dollars.  You give us two days and your full, undistracted effort.  If Wonderkand beats us to it, then that’s that.  You still get the money.  And you get a share of whatever turns up at the end.”

“Which is guaranteed to be good,” Snowdrop said.

“Hold on,” Avery’s mom said.  “How dangerous is this?”

“Like being a firefighter, I’d say,” Avery said.  “We can take precautions but there’s no guarantee.  Snowdrop makes a good point- there’s no guarantee what’s at the end will be good.  Paths can be really random.  Sootsleeves’ path was really hard but the reward was garbage.  If you pay me money and it turns out to be worthless, won’t you resent me?”

“No.  That’s the gamble we take,” Cliff said.  He put his hands on his son’s shoulders, gripping the fabric there.  “This feels like there’s gold.  It feels important.  It’s too connected to everything else.  I believe the gamble is worth it.  Forty thousand?”

Avery shook her head.  “It’s not like that.”

Cliff held up a finger, then pulled something out to write something down, showing Peter.

Peter nodded.

“It’s not about money.”

“Seventy-five thousand.  We can’t go much further.  Those are our coffers mostly emptied, a few belts tightened.”

“If it ends up being that Shane betrayed us, we can have him sell his house to pay me back,” Peter Garrick muttered, but the mutter carried at almost a normal speaking volume.

“If it isn’t him, we’d regret any deal we made promising that house money,” Cliff said.

“Yeah,” Peter said, with resentment rich in his voice.  “What do you think?”

“It’s not about money,” Avery said.

“And I think you’re pressuring Avery,” her mom said.  “This is bewildering to me, and she’s fourteen.”

“I’m okay,” Avery said.

“Ave,” Jude said.

“Heya.”

“What is this about?” he asked.

“It’s once in a lifetime,” Peter said.

“Let her talk?  Let her answer?” Jude asked.

“It’s my friends.  They’re up against crazy powerful stuff.  The Wild Hunt, Musser, the Carmine Exile- I’m pretty sure the Exile’s listening in.  He’s been watching us.  If I abandoned them, right now, it’d be like I was-”

She fidgeted, shaking her head a little.  “I already abandoned them by leaving Kennet.  But the idea was, I’d be helping them from the flanks.  And the market, everything else… even this, it’s kind of a long shot, but maybe we solve the Promenade and we find a solution to problems like Musser or the Wild Hunt.  It’s always in the back of my head.”

“So if you agreed to our deal, took money, ignored them and what they’re dealing with…” Jude trailed off.

“I’d be betraying them just as much as the person who sold out your family to Wonderkand, feels like.”  Avery’s voice went quieter the longer she talked, not that it mattered, here.

“What if we took the seventy-five thousand and invested it?  Bought the help of people who could assist your friends, while you help us?”

“I mean, like, you could spend seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and you could hire people, but like, Musser, I’m pretty sure he has more money than that. So he’ll spend more and hire better people, kind of.  And that’s just Musser.  The Wild Hunt’s different.  Weirdo practitioners they can’t really engage with, different.”

“And you need to help,” Jude said.

“I mean, I don’t want to imply I’m worth more than a seventy five thousand dollar mercenary.  But is there a substitute for someone who’s connected to Kennet, rooted in it, power-wise?  Someone who knows what’s going on, who sorta knows what we’re up against?  I care in a way even someone with a big payday coming couldn’t.  Even if I was totally and completely useless, I feel like I’d owe it to them to be there.”

“A lot of that, it’s why we want you on the Promenade,” Peter replied.

“I know.”

“Can we count on you the day of?  When we try it for real?”

“That’s the plan.  I don’t know what’s going to happen though.  I can devote some time, I think, but I can’t give you two days of time where I won’t be able to regularly check in, can’t coordinate allies, can’t help pull some of the moves I’ve been helping to set up.”

“What will it take?  More people?  Tertiary Garricks?  Breaks between problem solving attempts and analysis?  This is a valuable learning opportunity.”

“Can I interrupt?” Avery’s mom asked.

Avery wondered if they were regretting letting her bring her mom in.

“We’re pressed for time, the situation’s messy,” Peter said.

“You’re pressuring my daughter, things are heated, I’m not getting the impression you’ll take no for an answer.  This is veering into business, and as much as I don’t understand a lot of this, I understand business, and the need for cooler heads.”

“It’s not that.  Look, what do you do?”

“I co-run the Thunder-Bay branch of a national business, researching, making, marketing, distributing, and selling products through our public storefronts.”

“Okay.  I was going somewhere with that question, but that threw me for a loop.  What do you make?”

“Under our original branch, we made some casual wear, work clothes, jackets, and winterwear.  We absorbed another company and now we also make athletic apparel, underwear, swimsuits, and casual wear.  Our R&D work currently includes a contract with the Canadian Government designing materials and fabrics for spacesuits.”

“Really?” Avery asked.

“Yep,” her mom said.  “We’re not the only ones doing it, but it’s still a pretty big deal.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

“Are you Vikare?  Dassler?” Peter asked.

“Working on getting there,” Avery’s mom replied.

“I guess if I was going to draw an analogy, we’re up against those guys.  We’ve got a recipe for what sure looks like, in this analogy, the miracle material.  There’s no guarantee, but we’ve spent generations getting to this point, we’ve had people die or disappear, and I know that’s going to set off all the ‘mom’ alarm bells.”

“Doesn’t help,” Avery’s mom said, in that weird, digital-space kind of quiet.

“All to get here, hoping for this one shot at something that looks this good.  Hell, we’d be happy to be in a spot to tackle something that looks half this good.  We’ve got maybe three, four practitioners who I’d call A-grade.  A-plus, A, A-minus, four of us, let’s say.  I’m one, Cliff, Jude’s dad, is another.  Handful of Bs, mostly our older kids.  Some Cs.  Some Ds, some Fs on the fringes.”

Avery’s mom nodded.  “Thank you.  That helps.”

“We’re allowing ourselves two days before we try a serious run at this.  That might be too generous, they might still beat us to it.  Because they’ve got A-plus guys by the dozens.  They’ve got better than A-plus people, handpicked from all around the world.  All we’ve got is our head start, and we’re rapidly losing it.”

“You’re angry at the betrayal, you’re desperate, you’re willing to empty your bank account,” Avery’s mom said.  “To get a teenager on your side.”

“If we’ve got three or four A-grade people, bringing one more in is probably what makes or breaks this.”

“And if you come at this heated and rushed, you’re going to make mistakes.  If you panic, then that headstart will disappear fast.  Circular arguments here waste time more.”

“What, then?” Peter asked.  His arms were folded, but the one hand that was visible was clenched, adding to the effect.

“We’re going to hang up on you shortly.  I’m going to see my kids are fed, that includes Avery, which serves all our purposes.  It sounds like you have things you need to get handled that you’d be doing if Avery agreed right now, agreed later, or never agreed to.  Sort out your family betrayal.  Batten down the hatches, make sure there are no more leaks, get everyone organized, sort out what you need to do.”

Peter shook his head slightly, looking away.

“It has to be done.  It’s going to hurt, it’s tough, but you know you can’t move forward until you’ve managed that much.  If you’re running this like a family business, and the family part is bitter, focus on the business part.  They’re fired, they get escorted to the door with no opportunity to sabotage or take information with them.  Send them their things later.  Sort out the family part of it later.  This project is a big deal, so have your arguments and the hashing-out next week.  Or next year.”

“Might need to secure leaks further,” Avery said.  “Bindings or guarding them with Others.”

Lock them in the cellar.

“Yeah,” Peter said.

“I know that’s not super legal, or super cool, but with this much on the line-”

“Let’s not dwell on that,” Avery’s mom interrupted her.  “That’s your business, handle your business.  In the meantime, I am planning discussions with each of my children, from my nearly-nineteen year old to my seven year old, about their plans, work, and projects.  I’m going to talk to Avery about this.  Clear heads, no pressure.  I need more details about this Promenade business.  If you think you can help us with what we need help with, reach out with new offers.  If we say no, or offer a partial yes, you need to accept that.  If she’s saying not helping her friends and her hometown would be a betrayal she’s not willing to make, listen.”

Peter Garrick sighed.

“Talk to each other, sort it out.  If you have an offer to make to her, run it by me too.”

“Toad, Miss, Nicolette, and Zed were doing a pretty good job helping me with the last offer.”

“And now you’ve got one more person in your corner,” her mom said.  “If that’s okay?”

“It’s great.  Yeah.”

“I was planning on making dinner, but this ran long.  Takeout?  Celebrate exams being over?”

“Sure,” Avery replied.  “I know you said you wanted to try other places, but Sheridan would go bananas for Overloaded.”

“We’ll make an exception for tonight.  Make things a little easier.  Want to hang up?  We’ll talk after dinner.”

“I can take you off the call,” Zed said.

“Please,” Avery said.

“Good luck,” her mom said, to the Garricks.  “I mean that.  We’ll be in touch.”

Avery paged through the notes the Garricks had sent her.  They were running the Promenade now, trying to work out the specifics about what counted and what didn’t.  Every time they hit twelve, it seemed like, the Wolf would appear shortly after.  Each time was a close call.  They had to simultaneously rope out before she could block their ability to leave.

It was nerve-wracking to just read the notes.

Her mom, done talking to Sheridan, sat down at the dining room table, scooting over to see the laptop.  Avery angled it so she could read better.

“It’s not your responsibility.”

“But-”

“You have such a big heart.  And I know you want to help people.  But don’t set yourself on fire to keep others warm.”

“It’s a lot of money.”

“Seventy-five thousand dollars.  It is.  Invested, it could go so far.  It’s not life-changing amounts of money, though.  I know it may seem that way.”

Avery shrugged, clicking on a new email and downloading the attachment.  “Money doesn’t matter that much to me.  I mean, like, I don’t pay bills or have a place of my own, exactly, but…”

“I know.  But at the same time, I think when they started talking about big money, it changed the conversation.  Maybe money doesn’t matter to you, but it sounds important, it is important to so many.”

“Hmm.”

“And because it sounds that important, because it sounds like they were willing to bankrupt themselves, it makes you feel more guilty.”

“Maybe, yeah.”

“And you’re sitting here, agonizing, wanting to go to them to help?”

“Maybe.  Yeah.”

“Getting very little done, when you have a lot to do?”

Avery nodded, then decided, “maybe I’m a bit burnt out.  A bit overloaded.  I want to help the others, but like… can’t deal with the Wild Hunt, can’t deal with Charles or the kids at the school, can’t deal with Maricica or help Gilkey.  I could maybe do the Promenade prep…”

“Except you’re burnt out.  In a place to make mistakes.  Especially with that five figure sum hanging over your head.  Pressure to do well.”

“Yeah, but I’d be out of touch if the others needed me but they don’t need me, so…”

“So sleep.  Tomorrow’s another day.  What’s your priority?”

“I don’t know.  Reading more of the Promenade stuff.  That’s day after tomorrow.  Market stuff is the only thing I’m doing that feels productive.  Finding people willing to work with or through the Kennet market.”

“Why is that important?”

“Because it makes us bigger, harder to bite into.  Lucy’s words.  Because it’s opening doors.  It’s connecting us to people.  And that’s all stuff I value.  And I can try seeing if there’s a way to get around the Lord that’s making it hard to get to Kennet for Christmas, while I’m over that way.”

“Is there something you can do about that tomorrow?”

Avery nodded.

“Then let’s do that.”

“Yes,” her mother said, sounding tired.  “I’d like to participate.  Especially if you’re doing business.”

“Why, hmmm,” Avery frowned.  She looked at her mom in the dimmed dining room lighting.  “Why?  I had the vibe that before, you kind of wanted to be my dose of normal.  A reality check.”

“Hmmmm,” her mom hummed, considering, shifting in her seat.  “I did.  Couple things.”

“Things?”

“The big reason I asked to participate in that meeting you had before dinner is a coworker had a crisis today.  Her son was traveling to meet someone for work, riding a motorbike in winter, he fell and went under a car.  They didn’t know if he’d live.  It shook me.  It’d shake anyone, seeing a mother react to news like that.”

“Yeah.  Yeah, for sure.  Verona’s described something like that.  With someone I might be meeting, even.”

“It left me thinking, if you’re up to something dangerous- like riding a motorbike in icy, wet winter, if something happened, could I make peace with it?  And my answer was no.”

“Huh.  I’ve debated stuff like that before.  Asking if I could be okay just… not doing this.  Matthew especially has nagged us, saying we don’t have to be Kennet’s heroes.”

Her mother reached out to stroke Avery’s hair.  “My biggest problem with this was how intangible it felt.  Even seeing it, it didn’t feel real.”

“Does it feel real now?”

“It does.  It might sound stupid, but hearing them put a dollar amount on your help… it helped clarify things.  Made it something easier to process.”

“It kind of backfired for them, then, huh?”

“It might have,” her mom said, smiling.  “Instead of staring at the computer screen feeling helpless and frustrated, why don’t you go sleep, okay?”

Avery nodded.  The only thing that really got her up out of her chair was knowing she could and should call Nora for a before-bed conversation.

Standing, she typed out a message.

“Tell them I’m coming,” her mom said.

“It’s, uh, different,” Avery said.

“Is it a problem?”

“It’s just… like, the Garricks had their issues today.  Betrayal.”

“They did.”

“And that’s awful.  But this?  It’s the last big meeting I can arrange, besides some stuff on the phone with these people Nina mentioned.  Counts for a lot.  But this is the den of awful.”

“Do you really want to do business with the den of awful?”

Avery thought.  “Yeah?”

“Then let’s talk it over tomorrow, before the meeting.”

Avery typed out another line, suggesting her mom was there to help Awareify things and keep it innocent, like an unofficial ‘no weapons at the meetup’ thing.

Then she closed the laptop and sorted out her cords, before giving her mom a one-armed hug and going upstairs to bed.

Time was running out.  She could prepare, but it was like practice for sports.  She could focus on teamwork, she could practice, plan, she could make sure her equipment was good, but at the end of the day, other people decided when the game started.

She could only do her best from that point on.

She changed into clothes for sleeping, dialed Nora, and then lay in bed, sideways, laptop by her head.  Sheridan was awake, headphones in, so she figured she was good to talk.

“Heyyy,” Avery murmured.

“Heya,” Nora replied.  “I was halfway convinced I’d get Avery pictures instead of this video call, after you talked about being busy.”

“Ended up being a lot before dinner and then a talk with my mom about plans.”

“Us plans?”

“Plans in general.  Life plans.  Then talk about burnout, me wanting to help people.”

“Why?” Avery asked.

“I was going to talk about stuff but-”

“Talk.  I want to hear.”

Nora paused.  She shifted position, until she was lying down, head sideways in her laptop’s view, resting on the pillow, matching Avery.  “I came out to my dad today.”

“Oh wow, hey.  Did it go okay?”

Nora nodded.

“That’s so good. I’m so glad.”

And from there, Nora had fifty minor things she wanted to process, and things she’d told Avery before that Avery didn’t mind hearing again, about worries, and plans, and hopes.

But she was okay, and it was positive, and it was nice.

A message came in while Nora was talking.  Confirming the appointment.  Inside the lion’s den.

Avery replied with a key combination to put a thumbs up in the window box, and then sent, before going back to listening and talking with Nora.

The conversation went on for twenty minutes- about halfway through, Sheridan settled for bed, and Avery had to switch to typing.

And then Nora fell asleep, video feed on for five more minutes before timing out or something.

Avery moved her phone to her bedside table and settled in, turning off her light.

She wasn’t sure if the lesson for the day was that she needed to back off and do self-care more when other people were dealing with their own stresses.  If it was, she was ignoring it.  She had to help Nora, she wanted to support the Garricks, she wanted to help Gilkey.

It was just a question of finding the best way to do all of that.  And talking to her mom, she knew that if she helped the Garricks with doing stuff that, really truly, she was not that much better at than the average Garrick, she’d be less useful for them on the day of.  It was striking balances, figuring out what to prioritize, knowing what she couldn’t tackle.  Like the metal spike possibly being Maricica’s weak point.

But if she could set up these market connections, that helped.  Opening doors, making connections, making it inconvenient to attack or co-opt Kennet… other stuff.  It put tools into the hands of Lucy and Verona.  Then she just had to trust them.

Musser had struck a pattern, trying to take lordships and use the momentum from everything prior to deal the knockout blow to the last few threats.  He’d stumbled right at the end.

Now she was doing something similar with business and tying practitioner businesses to Kennet.  Fairy markets, goblin traders, practitioner booksellers, an elf bookseller, the Heroic market Gilkey had been near… and the lion’s den.

Last of all was a group of people, rendered powerless, not even equipped to work with the major players to tackle the situation.  Or at least, they weren’t deemed equipped, because they were primarily women.  Some had taken up various new businesses and magic craftsmanship, trying to find a way forward in this new dynamic, and Avery was in a position to throw them a lifeline.  Every benefit of the moves she’d been making with the markets was magnified here, in a massive, huge way.  If she could make it work.

Just had to convince them to help take the Dropped Call out of the picture, or moved to a less inconvenient spot on the highway.  Had to convince them to do business.  Even in a small way.

The stakes of it all left her wired, thoughts flying through her brain.  The call with Nora hadn’t done enough to ease tension or relax her.

Snowdrop handled it, passing on some drowsiness, rousing herself to go check on goblin business, starting her shift, while helping to put Avery to sleep.

The people she was going to be doing business with were the Whitts, the lesser Mussers, the Kennedys, and members of lesser families that had all banded together in close proximity to one another, because Charles’ Lordships were awful places for residents here.  Avery had been in touch with members of each group.  Members of families or family branches who’d had everything screwed up when Charles had pulled his stunt with the Lordships.  People who struggled to travel without being attacked, or had business grind to a halt.  The Blue Heron was shut down and didn’t seem like it would be revived again soon.

They were Musser’s people.  Musser’s ignored people.

A long shot.  Dangerous.  Messy.  Her mom would be there, to see the worst of practitioner society.  But if she could make it work, she could be at peace, more or less, that she’d done what she could to set the others up for victory.  And then she could seek out her own, with the Promenade.

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