Author: Wildbow

Crossed with Silver – 19.16 | Pale

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Lucy’s leg bounced nervously as she waited.  Her earring didn’t catch any imminent approaches.

It was dark out, and the snow that blew around was wet.  Rook had set up her greenhouse-like construction over the roof, and where snow met glass, it melted, leaving moisture.  Moisture caught light, including the light from the town and the light from the ski hills on either side of Kennet, and between a light fog, a bit of frost, and that moisture, it made the outside world seem dulled by one measure and turned glittering and dreamlike by two others.

It sucked that Musser wasn’t closer, or further.  There wasn’t enough to hash out in terms of news, considering the market, keeping tabs on the St. Victor’s students, or reports on the Wild Hunt.  They’d talked, and they’d run out of official meeting stuff, and now they could only chat and wait, tense.

Verona didn’t seem like it was affecting her, but she was rubbing at her hand.

Avery was chatting quickly with her dad, while Rook had gotten up to talk to Hollow Yen.

“Did you run the Promenade?” Lucy asked Avery, as Avery finished with her dad and walked over to the roof’s edge.

Avery shook her head.  “I postponed.  They’re antsy, but they want to take a serious shot at it, so when we’re done here, barring any big emergencies that we have to handle, I’ll take a quick break and handle that.”

“Imagine if you got some godly boon and were all, ‘oh fuck, should’ve done that sooner’,” Verona said.

“I don’t think it would be ‘godly’,” Miss said.

“Wait, do you know?” Avery asked.

“If I could go and look, I could give you some sense of it, but I’ve only passed through and heard more through word of mouth.  It doesn’t have the hallmarks of something that would give you power in that sense.”

“Hmmm.  Do you have any idea what it would give?” Avery asked.

“Sootsleeves would be a better person to ask,” Miss said.  “She’s managed the boons and gifts a practitioner can collect.”

“We’ve had conversations,” Avery replied.  “Hmm.  Anyone else?  Sootsleeves is pretty touchy about the subject.”

“I could point you to some Others to talk to.”

And that was the conversation.

“Nothing to do but wait, huh?” Lucy said, before realizing she’d said it out loud.

“We’ve extended an invitation,” Rook replied, “and it would be bad karma to then interfere with him in any way.  Even plotting actively against him could be an issue.”

“Can you exploit that?” Verona asked.  “Accept an offer to meet someone from halfway around the world, take your time?”

She craned around, looking at Rook, Miss, Toadswallow, then Matthew.

“I don’t honestly know,” Matthew said.  “Is that ever going to come up?”

“It’s not about what’s practical,” Verona said.  She winced as she shifted position in her chair, touching her injury.  “It’s about understanding what we’re doing, how things work.  If it does work, then that’s a whole direction to take future stuff.”

“My dad would’ve loved to have you as a daughter.  Ambition, a head for this stuff,” Matthew said.

“Being sore like I am, the idea of becoming immortal or doing the Heartless thing Matthew’s dad did sure is tempting,” Verona said, shifting position again, like she couldn’t get comfortable.

“Preying on people though,” Avery pointed out.

“I’d have been so shitty without you guys,” Verona said.

“My almost-first thought is the ‘daughter’ part would be sticky,” Lucy said.  “Sorry, Matthew, I know I don’t have any basis for that.”

“No, that’s fair, I guess.”

Lucy shrugged.  “It’s just an assumption that feels really reasonable when talking about most non-first generation practitioners.  That they’re shitty to women and girls.”

“You should’ve seen the Whitts and other families at the Musser house,” Avery added.  “Definitely seems to be a thing.”

“I wonder,” Matthew said.  “Never crossed my mind, but I never really saw him with many women.  It was him and me, mostly.”

“How old was he?” Miss asked.

“I have no idea.  But I think he’d been around a while.  Since ‘the war’ and he didn’t mean the Vietnam war.”

“Immortals and those who are functionally immortal can be behind the times.”

“True.  Damn.”

“You’re just not that inquisitive a soul, huh, Matthew?” Verona asked.

Lucy elbowed Verona.

“It’s more like…” Matthew groaned, sitting back.  “…if the brain’s a house full of memories, then sometimes it’s better to turn some of the lights off.”

“Heartless practice?”

“Once.  But mostly repression.”

“If it helps,” Louise said, “I think you’re doing darn good on that front.”

There was some general chatter, none of it especially directed at Lucy.  She drank her tea.

Lucy studied the pair, trying to see if there were any hints of a deeper connection.  She honestly couldn’t tell.  Maybe there were reasons.  Like Edith still being out there.  Jealous ex-wives were one thing, but a jealous ex-wife with the ability to manage echoes and set fires at will?

It got her thinking about Wallace, just because that was her relationship, and Wallace’s mom, and the shadow that had cast over things.  She looked over at Avery’s dad, but Avery’s mom was still in Thunder Bay…  So was Avery’s girlfriend.  Verona and Jeremy had broken their friendship-plus off, and as far as Lucy knew, Verona hadn’t gone chasing anything else.  Toadswallow’s partner was gone, back with her practitioner, at least for now…

“It’s so hard to hold onto things,” Lucy said.

“What’s that?” Avery asked.

“Thinking aloud.  It’s so hard to balance all this with actual life.  In the movies and TV shows, usually it’s a few mishaps and stuff, or one episode that gets the special superhero struggling at school thing, or whatever they are.  Alien, robot, secret pirate.  But then the episode is over, show moves on, and they go back to doing okay.”

“How were your grades?” Avery asked.

“I passed.  You?”

“Worse than I’ve done since the first semester at high school, but I’m at peace with it.”

“More other stuff.  Like… are Nibble and Chloe the only relationship that’s not, I dunno, patchy?”

“Snowdrop and Cherrypop?” Avery asked.

Lucy looked over.  Cherrypop was fast asleep, lying in Snowdrop’s fur.  “Not so romantic, though, is it?”

“Pshhh, romance,” Verona murmured.

“Are you okay, though?  Both of you?” Avery asked.

“Got some of my best grades ever, faster than ever, shop’s underway, setting up the nightmare market.  Just, you know, Wild Hunt of the Winter Court, feels like guillotines bigger than freaking Kennet are hanging over our heads, you know?”

“Yeah.”  Avery looked at Lucy.  “You?”

“Not okay.  But let’s get through tonight.  Either the one guillotine falls and we deal after, or we get one out of the way.”

“Hey,” Avery said, tapping Lucy’s shoulder with a fist.  “The idea we think we can maybe get one out of the way is pretty crazy, given what we’re up against, don’t you think?”

Lucy nodded.

“Speaking of?” Reggie- Hollow Yen asked.  They were looking over the edge.

Lucy’s leg bounced nervously.

She made it stop.

“Bread out of the oven,” Rook told Reggie.  She walked over to the far corner of the roof, where the Vice Principal, Stew Mullen, Oldbodies, and Bitter Street Witch had gathered, talking quietly.  Rook returned to the table and began refreshing drinks.

People took their seats and sat for about thirty seconds before Lucy heard the first steps on the fire escape with her earring.

“Good luck, everyone,” Miss murmured.

“Goblins?  Be good,” Toadswallow said.

There were some nods.

With her earring, she got a sense of Musser with his familiars- the way they followed his footsteps sounded to her special hearing like geese flying in a ‘v’ formation looked.  There were others.  She heard the footsteps and counted them.

The familiars were being asked to wait at the foot of the stairs.  Musser ascended without his familiars.

Musser was first through.  Lucy had seen that kind of dominance game with the people of Kennet below, making an issue of who was first through.  There were some who were unfashionably late, sometimes, but that felt really childish to Lucy, and stupid.  She didn’t see the point.  They almost always moved on without that person around, and it put the person in a bad position.

He wore a red winter coat, with a thick wool scarf worn like a fucking ascot, and had snowflakes in his hair, with more stuck to the frames of his glasses, though they avoided sticking to the glass.

“A white rabbit told me to come,” he said.  “I assume rules of hospitality are in order?”

“They are,” Rook said.  She set a drink and bread down.

“You know, I’ve never once known Luna to not introduce herself, why not just admit your memory’s terrible?” Lucy asked.

“Easy,” Toadswallow grunted.

Someone was behind Musser, but she didn’t recognize him.  He had a similar vibe, expensive and put together, with a preppy gray wool overcoat, expensive blond-brown hair, but he looked like he could’ve been a member of a boy band other girls would squeal over.  Trim, slim, shorter, like a teenage boy fashion model who hadn’t ever lost that youthful look, and who now wore a carefully cultivated stubble to counter how naturally young he looked.

Eliana Graubard wasn’t a huge surprise.  She was followed by a large doll with hair rigged up with ornaments that didn’t seem to fit any nation Lucy knew.  The clothing was similarly expensive.

It made her think a bit about the Fae that had stormed into her room.  Big, and dressed up in a way that made her feel as if it was broadcasting ‘I spent thousands on this outfit, I’m wearing it to a warzone, and I can do that because I’m good enough to know it won’t be ruined.’

Which didn’t change that they’d done pretty well against Eliana Graubard the last time around.  Was she bringing a bigger metaphorical gun with her this time around?  Digging into family reserves?

Lucy recognized the fourth person to come up.

Mousy, frail-looking, and tall, unassuming despite her stature in the community.  She didn’t have an expensive haircut- it looked like she cut her own hair and washed it one day a week less than she needed to.  There was a situation like the doll, where it might wear expensive clothes because it was powerful enough it could fend off trouble and not ruin them…  There was also a situation like this, where there was no need to care about a coat with a purple-black stain at the lapel.

Nobody would say shit to Ms. Durocher.

“Abraham Musser, making a preliminary visit before a planned claim next month,” Musser said.  “With me are Clark Hall, Eliana Graubard, and Marie Durocher.”

Rook indicated the end of the table closest to the fire escape.

Introductions were made.  Tea, wine, and bread were provided.

“You’ve sided with Musser, Ms. Durocher?” Avery asked.

“You can consider me a concerned neutral party, who has reason to cooperate with him.”

“What reason is that?” Lucy asked her.

“The Carmine Exile situation.  Charles.  I have to admit, I’m surprised he isn’t here,” Durocher replied.

“We’re not with Charles, you know,” Lucy replied.

“I know.  But I’m surprised.  I shouldn’t be, I remember he was shy, before.  Thoughtful, careful.  I thought after being bold enough to do this, he’d be bold enough to come.”

“Are you trying to summon him?” Miss asked.  “If you bait him like that, I could see him paying a visit.”

Ms. Durocher smiled.

Did she actually think she could put up a fight against Charles, if it came down to it?

“I’ll ask, because you have quite a rabble here, who’s in charge?” Musser asked.  “I would know from my last visit, but I know dynamics have changed.”

Lucy had to fight from keeping her leg from bouncing.  The latent frustration was boiling up, and she worried she’d say something snarky that wouldn’t help things.

“It’s a committee leadership, with members of multiple factions, but everyone gets a voice,” Louise said.

Musser didn’t look impressed.

“You’ve gathered a large number of Others,” Ms. Durocher observed, turning toward Lucy, Verona, and Avery.

“You say that like it was us,” Avery replied.  “We’re not in charge or anything, we’re not binding anyone.  But we span three realms, we’ve got a big market that ties into everything.  Others come.  Others were made in the founding, or when Kennet below happened.”

“If you had to, could you name every last one?” Durocher asked.

“Why does that matter?” Matthew asked.

“Curiosity.  I have several yardsticks I use to analyze situations.  Others gravitate toward where Others are.  Goblins gather near other goblins.  I’m curious if you’ve passed the point where this town metaphorically exhales, and then inhales, and comes away with a net change of more Others.”

“If you want to see for yourself, there’s a city spirit,” Verona said.

“Oh!  Interesting.”

“Just to let you know, Charles has a policy, apparently, of finding an excuse to gainsay anyone who approaches him or members of his conspiracy,” Lucy added.  “City-spirit-slash-doppleganger included.”

“Oh?  I’d ask him to make an exception,” Ms. Durocher said.  “If I’m gainsaid or forsworn, about one to two hundred practitioners around the world will have to scramble to clean up the messes that pop up.”

“Primevals?” Verona asked.

“Among other powers.  Charles knows.  A part of me wanted to see what you’ve been creating.  It seems as if you’re trying to build something big.”

“Some things fell into place,” Miss said.  “We were lucky enough to have some good minds of the right types, and those with big ideas and the willingness to see it through.”

“Kind of like what you were doing, Mr. Musser,” Lucy said.  “You were lucky, found good minds, found people with big ideas and drive.  With one key difference.”

“Prior relationship with the Carmine Exile, instead of prior enmity?”

“Broader than that,” Lucy told him.  She shrugged.  “You.”

Musser sniffed.

“We’ve got, well, us.  Community and support and-”

“I’m not here to be preached at by a little girl.”

“We’ve broken bread,” Rook told him.  “Many of us will have things to say, and we expect to be heard.  You will, I’m sure, have your declarations.  We will be obliged to hear them out.”

“Go on, Lucy,” Toadswallow croaked.

She hadn’t actually scripted this.  She would’ve been fine poking at a weakness and getting a curt, defensive response.  Wordplay was like swordplay and Guilherme, who’d skipped tonight, had tried to convey that at a few different points.

Against a threat like this, there were worse things than getting a few key jabs in and getting away unscathed.  Over time, they could add up.

“When things get hard, we protect each other-”  She glanced at Grandfather and Horseman.  “Provide resources, shuffle things around, we get angry on each other’s behalf.  I’m not saying you don’t.  I know that’s a function of what you tried to set up.  But when we talk to the people at the edges of what you’re doing, who are losing faith or hurt, or struggling, or captured-”

“By you?” Eliana Graubard asked.

“Sure.  Or by Others.  Or by their own families.  We ask what they’re doing, and you come up.  It’s attaching their fortunes to yours, it’s faith in you, it’s fear of you.”

“It’s called leadership.”

“Tyranny,” Rook commented.

“It’s on you though, if it’s your leadership,” Lucy pressed.

“If I may interject?” Mr. Hall asked.  “To clarify a possible misunderstanding?”

Lucy glanced at Miss and Rook.  The rules of hospitality-

“We’ll be sure to allow you to finish what you’re saying after.”

“You may,” Miss told him.

“I can testify, in my efforts to get the lay of the land before I got involved, and in anticipation of lines of attack like this, I asked various figures in Abraham Musser’s group, and there was a majority agreement that the fault of the current situation lies at the feet of the Carmine Exile, not Musser.”

“Can second,” Eliana Graubard added.

Verona had her phone out.

“I also formally request that, if we’re holding to the rules of hospitality, that we stick to the rules held by families all around the civilized world.  In various forms, for hundreds of years, no reading at the table, and for as long as cell phones have been in common use, no phones at the table,” Mr. Hall said.

“It’s our table,” Rook said.

“That remains a slight.  I’d like that noted for the record.”

“Noted for the record,” Miss said.

Shitty thing was, according to what Lucy had read, that mattered.

Who was this guy?

Lucy had only barely finished the thought when she saw Verona put her phone down on the table.  She’d opened the Atheneum Arrangement, and looked up Mr. Clark Hall.

Compact Word, 4th Edition, Clark B. Hall representing the Hall Circle
A classic text on contract practices and rhetoric in the modern, North American and European contexts.  The assumed reference for tutors of those areas introducing their students to Law practices.
PSBN: 6841795780006
Paid access to online text, fees paid to the Atheneum arrangement, profits directed to the Hall Circle; $210 CAD permanent or $21 for 30 days.
Level: Intermediate
Schools: Contract, Rhetoric, Law

Signing Off, Clark B. Hall
Following the loss of a friend and colleague who wrote and signed a contract, only to meet calamity, Clark Hall undertakes a three year trip, visiting his colleagues and peers across the world, contract in hand.  Mixes an autobiographical style with discussions of perspectives, individual approaches to contract practices, and varying degrees of analysis and rewrites of the same contract by beginners, experts, and world leaders in Contract practices.  In each, he asks what his friend might have missed and seeks to unravel[…]
PSBN: 6840440237688
Paid access to online text, fees paid to the Atheneum arrangement, profits directed to the Hall Circle; $2300 CAD permanent.
Level: Advanced
Schools: Contract, Deals, Law

He’d written books on contract magic and Law practices.  She’d learned some things from Mr. Harless and he probably saw this guy or this guy’s family as the people to look to.

Verona slid her phone down the table toward Matthew.

Lucy felt that like a physical blow, and turned in her seat as she felt it, adjusting posture, gripping the table’s edge, to better face Musser.  No way did she want to lose momentum.  “Musser’s situation with the Carmine Exile is his problem, not ours, and it doesn’t undermine my point that this counts against him.  Durocher is here, she’s, as far as I can tell, not being bothered.”

“Be clearer about what you’re asserting,” Mr. Hall said.

“Get bent.  I was clear enough.  You make a clearer counterpoint, because if I compare Musser and us and how things ended up, things are a mess.  And you can’t say that’s on the Carmine Exile, because the Carmine had a prior relationship with Musser and with Durocher, as far as I know, that relationship wasn’t that different back then, and now he’s getting his ass kicked and she isn’t.  The common part of this is the guy with the gold-rimmed glasses.”

“Okay.  For the record, first thing, just to get it out of the way, I formally request that we tone down the vitriol and language.  It’s a slight, it runs against-”

“Rule of discourse, Mr. Hall,” Verona cut in.  “We swear at this table all the time.”

“There are goblins present, sir,” Sir Toadswallow croaked.

“Admittedly, not something I have the most experience with-”

Write a fucking book about it, Lucy thought, glaring.

“-Withdrawn.”

Lucy smiled.

“Second, there is a clear and evidenced course of action by the Carmine Exile.  He’s getting meaner, he’s getting more ruthless, he’s acting against his own prior goals and beliefs, he was a broken, Forsworn man when he became Carmine Exile, and he took on a mantle of power that’s inherently corrupting and violent.  I can testify that Abraham Musser had a working truce with the Carmine Exile, which you yourselves witnessed in action, extending from late August to October, that was breached by the Carmine Exile through no fault of Abraham Musser.”

“No fault?  He led more than sixty-five practitioners in a violent and reckless attack on the seat of the Carmine Exile’s power!” Lucy exclaimed.

“He acted on the final stages of plan of action that had its groundwork and initial actions taken well ahead of the Carmine Exile taking his throne and the making of that truce.  He sought to take a town to secure it-”

“Against the Carmine!  He literally talked about stopping the Carmine.”

“You may surmise that, but we can point to something far clearer.  The truce kept the Carmine Exile from gainsaying Abraham Musser.  If the truce was breached by Abraham Musser in a failure of leadership, as you suggest, then the order of events would have been Abraham Musser attacking, the Carmine Exile responding by thoroughly gainsaying him, as he’s taken to doing with wanton and reckless abandon.  Both Carmine and Musser were moving against each other.  That’s allowed.”

“I’m losing track of this,” Avery admitted.

Lucy and Mr. Hall started talking at the same time.  Lucy leaned forward, hands gripping the edge of the wrought metal table, her chair squeaking against the floor, and Mr. Hall relented.  Lucy’s cut arm and stitches throbbed as she clenched the table.

Lucy answered Avery, “Musser is like a guy who started out with nine hundred, ninety nine million, nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety dollars, and is really proud at earning ten bucks and closing the deal on becoming a billionaire.”

“Started halfway to home plate and acts like he hit a home run,” Avery added.

“Sure,” Lucy said.  “And he still bit off more than he could chew, he got fancy and he choked.  He failed, that’s on him, when he had so much.  He screwed up, he tried to take what I’m sure most would agree is an unreasonably sized amount of territory, he went up against the Carmine Exile, a higher power, he got reckless, he was a shitty leader and we keep hearing how shitty he was and is, and he fucking choked.”

She met Musser’s eyes as she said it, letting the frustration of the last few days, weeks, and months lace every word.

Mr. Hall remained calm, by contrast.  “Abraham Musser undertook a plan he’d worked on and discussed thoroughly with his peers years before the Carmine Exile was even a consideration.  He made a truce to delay an emergent and obvious threat, and did what was fair and reasonable during a truce with a reckless higher power, which is to prepare and anticipate.  The Carmine Exile taking power and doing what it did was unpredictable and next to impossible to anticipate.  You might as well take your hypothetical almost-billionaire and blame him for his other hundreds of millions getting struck by lightning and set ablaze while he reaches for his last dollar.”

“I can blame that guy if he’s so caught up and rushed in what he’s doing-”

“Again, reckless, emergent, and immediate threat, that appeared unexpectedly, even to you, in the midst of his plans.”

“-he didn’t protect his shit.  If you’re so rushed that your money, your everything is in a position to be set on fire by a so-called freak accident, didn’t put it in a bank, didn’t insure it, didn’t plan- hell, by the timeline you’re talking about, Mr. Hall, he had months he knew about this threat and didn’t secure things.  If this is a threat he has to plan and prepare for, don’t leave shit out in the metaphorical thunderstorm for months and get surprised if it’s ruined.”

“There was a reckless, emergent, immediate threat in a higher power gone rogue.  You cited rule of discourse earlier, I’ll point to the same ideas.  Again, I talked to various families across this territory, across Musser’s contingent.  Just as rule of discourse is based on what everyone thinks and does in speaking, the fact the majority involved don’t blame him and are still willing to work with him -insofar as they’re able- puts this debate heavily in my favor.  I polled his people, they disagree with you.  If we’re talking about leadership, the people being led are a very important voice.  Your voice is a lonely one, by contrast.”

“She’s not that alone,” Avery said.

“Still.”

“You’re falling back on majority rule?” Lucy asked.

“That is the world we live in- Lucy, was it?  As a visible minority, you should know.”

Oh, she hated him.  “Don’t bring my skin into it.”

“I’ll change the subject then.  To answer something you said earlier… your analogy.  The millionaire on the cusp of being a billionaire, or the man who started partway to home plate and had to take only a few steps.”

“Is this what tonight’s going to be?” Matthew asked.  “We start with an accusation that Musser, the guy with a coalition in shambles, is a bad leader, and then get increasingly granular, arguing every few words and statements?”

“I love granular,” Mr. Hall said, smiling.  “If Lucy there wants to forfeit her point, we can move on, but I think we all know this is a tone setter, and a setup for later points.  I’m not going anywhere, I’m being well paid, I am perfectly willing to fight you over every last grain.  Now, Lucy’s made an argument we had to put aside, I feel it’s important to refute it, or else this becomes less about the spirit and letter of the law, and who can make the most points the fastest, to see what slips through.”

“Isn’t that the world we live in?” Miss asked.

“Fortunately, those protective of the rule and spirit of Law have prepared us against that.  There is precedent and support for both of my points.  For majority rule, and for calls to order against tides of falsehood.”

Lucy really hated him.

“If I may continue?  No, let’s reword that.  I may continue, by precedent.  Say otherwise and we can litigate that, and you’ll be arguing against centuries of-”

“Continue,” Rook told him.

“Thank you.  If I could get a refill on my drink, actually?”

“Of course.”

This was shitty.  It was a shitty she kept running into, too.  Going up against heavyweights.

A lot of Guilherme’s training had been to teach her to fight people who were bigger, because she was small.  People who were stronger, because while she was reasonably athletic, she wasn’t going to beat the average person in an arm wrestling contest.

But it went past that.  She was up against verbal heavyweights.  Winter Fae, who had centuries of experience and if she ever even came close to winning an argument, they could pull a horn out of their fucking asses and blow on it and they’d call a fucking inquisition of stupidly strong Fae down on Kennet, drag her off to Winter or something, and that would be it.

Musser, who could pull absolute bullshit.  ‘I’m a winner so let’s cut to the chase and just say I won’.

And this guy.

It didn’t matter that she was right.  They were powerful, privileged, and protected.

“Thank you for the tea,” Mr. Hall said, putting his cup down.  “Had a lot of salty foods on the trip over, I was parched.  Don’t want to lose my voice.”

“Carry on,” Matthew said.

“If you’ll allow me a moment to confer?” Mr. Hall asked, leaning over to Musser.  Musser immediately put a hand up, the backs of his gloved fingers against Hall’s mouth.  He leaned in close.

“Lucy there has enhanced hearing, by way of implement.  Mind what you say.”

“Noted.  I won’t be specific.  But about things you shared in confidence…”

“I know what you mean.  You may reference it, but mind you avoid specifics.  You swore oaths.”

Hall leaned back, took another sip of tea, thinking, then addressed the table.  “The assertion was made that Musser did not earn what he has.  I can testify, he has.”

“Are you actually saying he’s not from a rich family?” Lucy asked.

“He is.”

“But he earned everything he has?”

“He did.”

“What, he won the approval of his dad and that earns him everything he got handed?” Lucy asked.

“He did win the approval of his father, and that is a factor from certain angles.”

“Okay, if we’re allowed to point to majority rule bullshit, I think we can look at what the majority views a standard wage and ‘earning’ is, and there is absolutely no fucking way that Musser put in the hours to earn what he apparently has.  Jets, multiple million-dollar properties, libraries, your -I‘m sure- expensive ass.”

Mr. Hall smiled.  “Arguments can be easily made that the majority recognizes vast disparities in wealth and that many earn disproportionately more for a given amount of work than others-”

“If you argue that that the majority of people think it’s legit a trust fund baby can get millions for doing practically nothing because of that disparity, or that they consider it fair earning, I’m liable to gainsay your ass,” Lucy told him.

“Amen,” Louise commented from the sidelines.

“I’m not arguing that, as a matter of fact.  I said you could easily make the arguments.  But you’re arguing against a point I didn’t make.  Allowing for reasonable variance based on time and place, and allowing for things like investment of income and pursuit of ventures on the side to turn one dollar into ten, so to speak, Musser here earned every dollar he has.”

“Again, his winning over his family-”

“Not what I’m arguing.  A facet, but it’s not at the heart of this.”

“Just to be clear-”

“Please.”

“He earned every dollar he has, according to you.  You’re actually saying he worked for every last dollar.”

“He did.  At reasonable rates, allowing for variance, even, and there will always be some degree of exploitation, investment…”

“You’re also saying he was given everything that he has by his family.”

“He was.”

“But he didn’t earn what he has by way of winning over his family or working to get them to hand over that money?”

“Exactly so.  Being in his family’s good graces and being allowed to continue was a facet, but it wasn’t at the heart of his earning.  Obviously, if he was kicked out of the family, that would change a lot.”

“There is a significant fucking contradiction here, Mr. Hall,” Lucy said, leaning forward.  “If he was given what he has by his family he didn’t fucking earn it, did he?  We’re using ‘earned’ as in he worked for the hours a reasonable person would deem necessary and valid, not cheating his way through?”

“Correct.”

Lucy sat back.

“We were just talking about Heartless practitioners, before,” Verona said.  “Are you immortal, Mr. Musser?”

“I’m not at liberty to disclose what was shared with me in confidence,” Mr. Hall said.

“It’s fine.  I will live and die as my father and grandfather did before me,” Musser said.

“Is this some bullshit claim practice?  You did some ritual to be able to lay claim to the family fortunes as if you technically worked for it?”

“Again, I am not at liberty to disclose,” Mr. Hall replied.

Mrs. Durocher looked a little restless.  We’re in the same fucking boat, because I can’t stand sitting here and listening to this bullshit.

Mrs. Durocher’s restlessness was probably more frustration with the deeper legal conversation being a legal conversation.

“If you can’t back it up, then I don’t see why it should count.”

“If it helps refute accusations made against Mr. Musser here, I can stake my word on this.”

“That Musser was given what he has by family, and did not earn it, but also earned it, but the two aren’t connected by some thread like him earning his father’s approval?”

“Not how I would phrase it, but in that neighborhood.”

“And you can’t give evidence?”

“No, but again, I stake my word on this.  In lieu of gainsaying you, Lucy, by way of Law practice, I instead request to spirits and powers that this be set forward, so it may count in future deliberations against you tonight, when spirits and higher powers are weighing your arguments against ours and finding themselves less sure.”

“If you’d like, you can challenge him,” Musser said.  “Challenge him over his word on this, swear the oaths to keep the confidences he does, and litigate this.”

“On his bluff?” Matthew asked.

“If you think it’s a bluff,” Musser said.  He cut a bit of bread off, took some cheese, and took a bite, chasing it with red wine.

It wasn’t a bluff, Lucy knew.  There was no way a practitioner like this would chance everything on a bluff when up against a teenager who could do something impulsive out of anger, when she was pissed.

This was such bullshit.

“Questions of leadership and legitimacy set firmly aside, shall we begin?” Mr. Hall asked.

“If I may?  As Ellingson there initiated the prior discussion?  I’ll start us off,” Musser said.

“You may,” Rook said.  Still acting as arbiter and host.

“We’re faced with the reckless and dangerous Carmine Exile.  He’s designing powerful Others to counter specific practitioners.  The one possibility that strikes me is that it’s inevitable he comes for you.  If so, you should want to stop him.  Let me establish a Lordship.  After I claimed the Lordship, my niece Raquel Musser would be made interim lord, deferring power to me in much the same way the Carmine Exile’s lords defer power to him and the other judges.”

“Doesn’t sound very appealing,” Louise said.

“It’s the same deal you offered before, just slightly sweetened,” Lucy said.

Musser shook his head.  “Comparatively, it’s much sweeter, relatively, but let’s not get distracted.  Another possibility is that you’re on the Carmine’s side.  In that event, I see it as my responsibility to step in and keep you from doing further harm.  Raquel has worked with you, and signed a contract of unknown provenance, and action would have to be taken to protect the family against her.”

“You’re using your own niece as a pawn?” Avery’s dad asked.

“I would be protecting her after she’s made deals with a reckless group working in concert with the Carmine Exile.”

“There are other possibilities than those two,” Lucy said.  “One being that you’re a dangerous, crappy leader and we don’t want you to be in charge but we’re still not okay with him either.”

“You already litigated the question of my leadership and legitimacy and lost,” Musser replied.  “There’s another consideration.  On our way here, just outside your doorstep, even, I was confronted by an Other.  One who asked me to step into the shoes of a man who led a group against me, resisting my taking a Lordship, and to fight myself.”

“What about it?” Lucy asked.

“It was effective.  A trap meant for me.  The Carmine Exile is dangerous, and if he eventually comes for you, he may use similar methods against you too.  I suffered two setbacks before my eventual win.  It was pointed.  Mr. Hall had to call on some powers to get me here in a timely manner.”

“I think you mean you lost twice,” Lucy said.

Steps on the fire escape made her think one of his familiars had been called.

It was her mom, instead.

Not trying to be fashionably late- she’d had legit work.

Lucy smiled briefly at her mom, but she knew the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Her mom walked past her to Connor’s side, leaning in, so he could give her the rundown.

“I prevailed.  I don’t think you, should you face the focused ire of that deranged, small little man, will prevail.  But I have to wonder if you’ll even try.”

“What makes you think we aren’t already?” Lucy asked.

“That you’re still here.  And the glasses I wear and my Sight are tuned to let me identify items and their value.  Their provenance.  Wouldn’t you know?  Someone here helped make it.  Her fingerprints were on it, so to speak.  Not the primary architect, but when Charles crafted the trap, she counseled.”

“Musser,” Miss said.

“Let me finish, then I’ll let you have your turn again.  She conspired with Fernanda Whitt, who she spent time with at the Blue Heron before departing, expelled.  She interacted with McCauleigh Hennigar during McCauleigh’s long so-called imprisonment, and McCauleigh just rejected her family and the family’s involvement in my ongoing efforts.  She interacted with members of lesser families, such as Andrea Fulton, née Andrea Conrad, who have similarly conspired.  A reckoning is in order.  Verona Hayward.”

“Yo,” Verona replied.

“Technically it wasn’t Verona doing that conspiring,” Avery said.  “It was me.”

“She played her part.  Do let me continue.  Andrea Fulton can die and her daughter can be married off, they barely matter.  McCauleigh Hennigar can be married off overseas, to a husband who can temper her wild and aggressive spirit, and she will cease to be a consideration.  Her family agrees with the idea.  The Whitts are in a poor position after losing Alexander Belanger’s mentorship, and in exchange for my favor and funding, I do believe Chase will let me arrange a similar handling of Fernanda Whitt.”

“That’s monstrous,” Louise said.  “They’re children.”

“They are dangerous conspirators exacerbating a bad situation in dangerous times.”

Teenagers.  But it barely mattered.

Verona looked physically ill.  Like she had before she’d thrown up, after Bristow had gone off to the kitchens.

Lucy’s mom had arrived just in time for this.

“Ms. Durocher?” Lucy asked.  “Please don’t be cool with this.  A lot of these are your students.”

“I’m not,” Durocher replied.  “But for now, the subject is being expressed in terms of what can be, beliefs, nothing stated in absolute.”

“Yet,” Avery said.

Lucy added, “And when it’s stated in absolute, it’ll be too late.  Or will you draw a hard line and turn Musser into a smear when he tries?”

“If I said anything of the sort, I’d be taking a side-”

“Against someone who wants to sell off teenage girls for political gain because they disagree with him!” Lucy raised her voice, rising up out of her seat.  “Your students.  Your ex-students.”

“I know you have no cause to have faith in me, so I won’t ask you to try.  All I can say is I don’t take sides.”

“Can I ask that we lower our voices, hold to standards of decorum?” Mr. Hall asked.

“Fuck your decorum.  Fuck your so-called not taking sides,” Lucy said, angry now.  “Are you fucking done, Musser?  Said your piece?  Made your threats?”

“I have other individuals you should know are at risk due to their own malpractice and cooperation with dangerous groups like yourself.  People who’ve walked the line in a dangerous circumstance.  If we’re to establish order… Nicolette has worked with you and through you, the Carmine Exile.  Zed too, but in a more nebulous way.”

“And what do you have after?” Bitter Street Witch asked.  “You’d kill the women, children, and someone like Zed, who I’ve never heard a complaint about?”

Nicolette, Lucy thought.  The Bitter Street Witch wouldn’t want to sound sentimental, but it’d be Nicolette who provoked her to speaking up.

“I’d kill and marry off traitors to those who can curb their tendencies.  To achieve some semblance of order.  I don’t expect this to be easy.”

“You call that order?” Rook asked.  “Let’s be clear, it’s tyranny.”

“When a situation is this bad, there is no way to create order from chaos without seeming terrible,” Musser replied.  “A surgeon cutting out cancer may seem like a butcher to those who don’t understand.”

“To turn things around, a butcher with an ego may imagine himself as intricate and skilled as a surgeon,” Miss told him.

“I’ve said my preliminary piece.  I may have more to say after, but first, have your turn, it’ll help me know where you stand,” Musser said.  “I’d like more wine.”

Rook stood with a sweeping motion, stalked her way over, and picked up the red wine on the way.  She slammed the bottle down in front of him with enough force that Durocher’s glass of tea almost tipped over.  Durocher caught it.

“Thank you,” Musser said.

Lucy looked again at Verona.  She looked almost green.  Avery was rubbing her back.

Lucy put her hand at the back of Verona’s hair, fingers with hair between them, cupping the back of her friend’s head.  “Hey.”

“It’s okay.  Keep going,” Verona murmured.

Lucy dropped her hand.

Few things felt as bad as having something missing for most of your life, hurting because of it, and then getting it, only to face the idea of it being taken away.

Lucy had felt it with Wallace, and with friends.  She’d felt it more recently, working hard to feel strong and competent, only to face off against…

Against all of this.  The Wild Hunt.  Musser.

“Lucy?” Louise asked.  “If I remember right, you wanted to handle this part.”

Lucy nodded.  She’d wanted to handle a lot of it.  “It’s our job, right?  To be the representatives when practitioners come?  It came up at our awakening.”

“It is,” Miss answered.

Lucy nodded.

“Kennet is now established as the premier market in the region,” she told Musser.  “Do you intend to claim it?”

“I do.  But let me interrupt you,” Musser said.

“Oh really?  Your lawyer there was talking about decorum, and you just said I could have a turn.”

“This spares us both hassle and annoyance.  As Headmaster of the Blue Heron, though it’s closed, I am privy to certain things related to it.  You’ve used the Atheneum Arrangement to get information on peddling.  The sale of cursed items for personal gain.”

Lucy glanced at Verona.

“Mrs. Graubard?” Musser asked.

Eliana Graubard nodded.  “We discussed what you might be doing.  We knew you were having people such as Raquel Musser sign contracts.  We found out you were working with Charles on the creation of the one Other, but we were already prepared to act if he moved against us.”

So they’d brought Hall to counter the contract, they’d brought Durocher as an answer to Charles, someone who could probably go toe to toe with the greater power of a region.

They’d brought Eliana Graubard to…?

Graubard met Verona’s eyes.  “Tell me it wasn’t your intention to peddle your town here, Kennet, at its would-be Lord.  A poison pill for him to swallow.  A cursed town.”

Lucy glanced sideways at Verona, eyebrow arched.

“If I don’t answer, I guess that says enough, huh?” Verona asked.

“Yes.”

“It crossed my mind.  I took some steps.  It wasn’t a primary plan.  Just something I dabbled in.”

“While I’m a specialist in dollmaking, I’m very good at handling cursed items and curses,” Graubard said.  “It won’t work.”

“Cool,” Verona replied.  “You know what’s neat about being a dabbler who jumps from one thing to the next?  Your enemy can’t anticipate you.  I didn’t actually go through with that.  If you came to deal with that, you wasted your trip.”

“I thought it was worth getting out of the way, regardless,” Musser said.

“Back to what I was saying, before your pointless interruption… you intend to claim Kennet,” Lucy said.

“Again, I do.”

“I have contracts with me,” Lucy said.  She got the contracts out of her bag, and stacked them on the table.

“May I?” Mr. Hall asked.

“No you may not.  It’s privileged information with each of the parties involved.  It’s part of the terms,” Lucy said.  “I may read excerpts or give summaries at my discretion, or allow people to read it if the groups in question are protected enough, but the only way Musser gets to read these in full is if he takes custody of them.”

“Custody being the key word,” Mr. Hall said.  He nodded, leaning back.  “Which is to say you’ve contrived to make it so that if Abraham Musser claims Kennet, then he-”

Lucy finished the sentence, “-takes on the responsibilities that come with Kennet.  Which include obligations to-”

Lucy held one contract, and pointed the sheaf of papers at Avery.

Avery sat up.  “-Nineteen markets, including ones related to Faerie, fairy, goblin, echo, and spirit world, fourteen lesser councils and groups you’ve overlooked, and roughly forty individuals ranging from craftsmen and Others with a mind for art or toolmaking, to booksellers and Aware with odds and ends to sell.  Some innocent stuff on the side.”

“It’s a lot,” Lucy said.  “It’s a lot for us, when we’ve got a bunch of varied Others with great skillsets, three practitioners, Aware, a mirror version of our town full of enterprising undercity denizens to work factories-”

She indicated the replacement foreman, Stew Mullen.

“Among other things I won’t get into.  And we’ve got Kennet found, another overlapping mirror version of our town know you’re acquainted with, lots of helpful Foundlings.”

“If you take Kennet, you’d better believe we’ll quit on you,” Verona said.  “We will strike, we’ll stop working, we’ll get in your way, we’ll make you fight for every last bit of it.”

“You’d better be prepared to have goblins of specific types,” Lucy said.  “Nightmares, and a whole lot of Lost and Founded stuff.  You’ll need resources, you’ll need information.  To do what the contracts outline.”

“Resources of the town come with the town,” Graubard said.

“We didn’t say they were with the town,” Avery said.  “And not all contracts come with the town either.  So if you take Kennet, if you’re intending to meet its obligations, you need to make sure you have certain things set up outside of Kennet first.”

“Means having to track down the right people who we dealt with, to make sure you have the things for sale or for refining goods,” Avery said.

“Which suggests I need to know what the contract terms are before I become obligated to follow the contract,” Musser replied.  “Which would mean expensive hiring of Augurs.  Chasing down threads in advance, chasing down things after.  Managing people.”

Time and work when you are stretched thin for both.

“Yeah,” Lucy replied, glaring at him.

“No?” Avery asked.

“There are multiple ways this can fail.”

Miss said, “If you intend to try to establish a Lordship in Kennet without its active market, when we’ve made the market integral to its identity, tied into civilian business in Kennet above, Aware, Kennet below, Kennet found, and Kennet’s identity in other regions and with other groups… you hardly have a claim at all.”

Meaning that in the Lordship, you’d be potentially fighting blindfolded with a hand tied behind your back, Lucy thought.  If one side had more claim to something, then it changed the terms of any contest, making them more lopsided, to represent that claim.

“Don’t talk to me about claim,” Musser said.  “I don’t need any sort of lesson, nor do I need much of one.”

Did he seem just a bit irritated?

“We have bled for Kennet,” Lucy said.  “Fought, battled, suffered, drawn blood.  Killed.”

“I’m aware.”

“We sweated for Kennet,” Avery joined in.  “Worked our asses off, ran here and there, went from Blue Heron to here to Blue Heron again, I’ve gone back and forth from Thunder Bay.  These guys have built up industry with hard work, I’ve worked to connect people to Kennet.  That’s claim.  That gives us claim, absolutely.”

“I see what you’re doing.”

“Cried for Kennet, lost people for Kennet,” Verona said.  It looked like thoughts of the friends she’d made were heavy on her mind.  “Wrestled with personal demons for Kennet.  Blood, sweat, tears.”

“If you’re not taking the market, if you’re not willing to claim something that major?” Lucy asked.  “And you’re up against us, when we’ve got the claim that extends to three corners of our Selves?  We’re not going to make it easy.  We’re going to challenge you.”

“All of Kennet will reject you,” Louise said.  “We’ve talked about it.”

Toadswallow croaked, “If you care about majority rule, you’d better be prepared to go against everyone with a say in this town, everyone that’s come in to build something in our market.”

“I thought there was more room to discuss other things,” Musser said.  “Collaboration against the Dropped Call, as you’ve termed it.  But I see where things stand.  I’m not worried.  I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

He stood, glancing at his companions, who nodded and pushed their chairs back.

No, Lucy knew just enough about claim and Law that she knew he didn’t want to be hammered like this.  He could make a claim and maybe with an arm tied behind his back and a blindfold on, he could still win, but anything they said would be a drop he didn’t want in the bucket.  Leaving meant that stopped.

“No,” Lucy said.  “If you walk away, you fucking coward, we’re going to say it every day until you come back.  That we reject you, that you have no claim, that you ran, that you’re a coward.  I will make it a fucking meme, I will get kids from my High School to say ‘fuck Musser’ because they want in on a secret project like the Arcade we used to have.  And they won’t know what it means but they’ll say it, and I know it’ll count against you.”

“Maybe it’ll even spread,” Verona said.

Musser, having stood, leaned over the table, one hand planted on the flat surface.  “You’re not the first to try to make their Lordship too complicated to seize.”

“We’re doing it fairly,” Lucy said.  “We want things this way.  So do others.  All these contracts, they’re invested in this.  That’s more claim.  This isn’t the kind of thing where you flip the table on us and say it’s unfair because we can’t handle the challenge we set up.  Because we are.”

“You insist on lecturing me about things my family is expert in.  I’m not worried.”

“I wonder,” Durocher murmured.  “Did you tell the people you were doing business with about the risks?”

“That sounds like a threat,” Avery said.  “From someone who said she’s neutral.”

“It’s a concern.  I’m not saying something Abraham hasn’t thought of, or anything you shouldn’t have thought about.  One way to handle a knot of a scenario like this is to cut through it.  Targeted removal of every party of the contract.”

“We told most,” Avery said.  “A couple weren’t communicative.  One person signed without reading any of it.  When you find them and confront the groups and people we’re working with, there’s an understanding they’ll stop working with us.  The idea is we pay them a fee even after they stop doing business with us.  It’s in your interest to leave them alone, turn them into penalties for us.”

Lucy wondered if he’d refute that.  She’d had her own worries he’d make an argument about maiming or killing them.  Screw the karma, screw the technical advantage in accepting surrender and leaving them be – he could threaten to terrorize them, knowing that the rippling waves of fear of being part of their deal would scare people off.

But he wasn’t saying or doing anything like that.

“It still takes time,” Lucy said.  “Finding them.  Even with Augurs, with Chase in your back pocket.  Time you don’t have.”

“Effort,” Verona added.  “Not always easy, not everyone is going to back down.  I don’t think you’ll be able to disentangle yourself from everything.  People who aren’t in the loop will assume Kennet is holding to current responsibilities and stuff.  Those assumptions have power.”

“Travel,” Avery said.  “While you’re tackling all that, you’re having to go back and forth.  Dealing with Lords.  Charles’ traps.  And don’t forget, we can still find more while you’re dealing with others.”

“Still complicated,” Lucy said, cutting back on the swears because her mom was watching.  “Come on.  You want to make a play?  Either tell us, let’s hash it out, or admit you don’t have a play, and we’ll be calling you out and fighting your claim in the meantime.”

Musser straightened, cracking his knuckles.  Then he turned to Mr. Hall.  “There’s precedent.  Others have tried similar things.  It doesn’t work.”

“There is.  It traces back to what we were talking about, rule of discourse.  Establishment with the public, establishment from the public.  In Canada’s national government, a government in power can’t make binding deals the next party to be in charge is forced to uphold.  Essentially.  It defeats the purpose.”

“The Seal has its weight.  It can’t be denied,” Musser said, turning toward the table, looking across it, from Miss and Rook to Matthew and Louise, to the parents, and then to Lucy and her friends.

“Nothing to do with government, Lords, or any of that.  It’s partnership,” Lucy told him.  “The contract herein is intended to wed the organized markets of Kennet above, Kennet below, and Kennet found, hereafter referred to as Kennet, to the organized practitioner enclave of the- let’s redact that.  In case you’re violent and try cutting through what we built here.  Wed.  And on page… sixteen, if you want out or are forced out of Kennet, represented by its leadership, you must divorce yourself of the partnership, paying penalties and making restitution based on your total net worth.”

Hall snorted a short laugh.  “Who wrote that?”

Lucy didn’t respond.

“I know most.”

Lucy was silent.

Hall turned to Musser.

“Well?” Musser asked.

“I’d have to see the contract.”

“Then get your hands on it.”

Clark Hall turned to them.  He paused, then said, “Earlier, I said you could challenge me.  Call me on what you seemed to think was a bluff or falsehood.  There are provisions, deals we can make, elements of practice-based Law that allow for word to be examined.  Especially for contracts and oaths.”

“And?” Lucy asked.

“I call on those provisions.  The arbiter’s proviso-”

“Which requires you to be neutral,” Verona said.  “I read up on that.”

“More neutral than Durocher is apparently being,” Lucy added.

“-interrogated word, receipts of affirmation, the arbiter’s testimony, nineteen ninety three-”

“Sounds like gibberish to me,” Matthew said.  “Are you trying to sound clever?”

“There is substance to each of these assertions.  I’ll cut straight to the point.  I could twist your arms and force you to let me see, but that takes time, it’s a hassle, it costs both of us.  I can swear an oath of secrecy, I won’t speak of the contract details.  I’ll simply verify if it does what you say it does.  I’ll look at three random ones, if you can attest to the fact there’s no major traps in the remainder.”

“Why would we attest to that?” Lucy asked.  “The whole point is if you want to try to claim this place we bled, sweated, and shed tears for… you gotta work for it.”

“Because you’re repeating that, I’ll answer it,” Musser said. “I state my own claim.  On three points of Self, I’ve staked my own claim.  One I would argue is superior.”

“I actually want to hear this,” Toadswallow spoke up.

“Me too,” Lucy said.

“Fine.  I’ve bled for Kennet, in my fight to claim it.  I’ve bled here against Witch Hunter, as prospective Lord, and in fighting your Dogs.  Drops of blood, but they’re drops more than I’ve shed elsewhere, and more blood has been shed as a casualty of my coming here.”

“But have you nearly died for Kennet?” Lucy asked.

“I’ve come closer here than I have in most places.  Which wasn’t close at all, but the prerequisites for points of Self can’t be too high, or people would be denied any right to Self at all.”  Musser turned toward Rook.  “Say I’m wrong to claim it.”

“Why must I say anything?”

“Because you’ve concerned yourself with process, you’re apparently the host.  Tell me I’m in the wrong to claim blood of my Self.”

“I’ve sweated for Kennet.  I’ve labored, the very fact I’m here.  I’ve made alliances, given breath, wiped sweat off my brow, in the comings and goings, in warm weather and cold.  Prior to my claim of it, I worked to take most of Ontario.  An act I don’t think you can come close to matching.”

“That was against Kennet,” Avery said.

“You may not agree with the nature of the work I was doing, but I wasn’t in the wrong nor was my sweat devalued by it.  It has merit.”

He didn’t ask Rook for that one. Maybe he figured answering Avery was enough to nail it in.

“Did you cry?” Verona asked.  “Because honestly, I wouldn’t blame you, what you lost, but I kinda just want to hear it.”

“Sex,” Musser said.

Verona blinked, before turning to Lucy.  “What.”

“Blood, sweat, and sex.”

“Do tell, Mr. Musser,” Toadswallow leaned in.  “What of Kennet did you fuck?  Who did you give your seed to?”

“I gave my seed to Kennet,” Musser answered.  “I issued it forth, it gestated, and it grew up into a young man, borne of my seed.  At my urging, he was brought to Kennet.”

“You’re actually using the fact you sent your son to his death?” Lucy asked.

“He was my seed, raised as my son, and on Kennet’s foundation, he was spilt and spent.  Blood, sweat, sex.  I answer your claim of Self with my own.”

Clark touched Musser’s shoulder.  He wasn’t as tall as Musser, so Musser had to bend down for them to exchange whispers.

“I can offer to stand down, for a look at the contract.  You can use another member of my circle.  You lose the benefit of my advice, but the others are nearly as good.”

Musser nodded.

Mr. Hall looked at Lucy.  “Let me see the contract-”

“And you stand down?  You swear to silence?”

“Until all relevant matters are done, I won’t speak of the details without permission.  I’d appreciate some grace from you, if we get further along and establish a neutral relationship, but I won’t expect it.  My silence, except to verify and report on how much of the contract can be argued, I state its validity, and I remove myself from this situation.”

And if it’s not valid, if you can find a way through, then what do we even have?

This at least made Musser work for it.  He’d have to find someone else after this.

Lucy looked at her friends, then at Miss and Rook, then Louise and Matthew.  Her eyes passed over her mom.

She nodded.  “Say it.”

“So sworn.  Silence, but for the exceptions stipulated here, and I remove myself from this situation, not speaking of this, nor working to help Abraham Musser against you in the future.”

Lucy nodded, then motioned.

Mr Hall walked around the table to their side of the one end of it.  He ran a finger through the stack of contracts, then split it, and took the top one, pulling a felt-tip pen out of his pocket, the tip and cap a dull, rusty orange-red.

He circled the occasional word as he skimmed, the pen poised over the lines he was reading.  The marks were quick.

The first paragraph past the summary, he drew four diagonal lines through- an X, but with a space for a word.  He wrote ‘invalid’.

The next paragraph, he crossed out a key line.  He wrote ‘no’.  He scribbled out a quotation.

Another paragraph with an ‘x’, ‘invalid’.

One circled.

Lucy watched as he went through it with an expert hand.  Like a man cleaning the hundredth fish he’d ever cleaned, working easily to separate this from that, to identify the vitals.  It was almost like he didn’t need to read it to identify the weak points.

To kill it, piece my piece.  Invalid.  Invalid.  No.  Questionable- can argue down.  A paragraph with ‘weak’ written over top of it in red felt.  Another invalid.  A circled paragraph with a question mark.  A paragraph with a down arrow drawn over the words at the right hand side, a note- ‘can argue down, becomes negligible’.

He went back a couple of pages, crossed one he’d circled out.  ‘No merit’.

He got to the end, reread it, scribbling out two more sections along the way.  “I’d like to look at two more.  Three in total.”

“What do we gain if we allow that?” Verona asked.

“Clarity?”

“Just say it,” Lucy told him.  Her blood was throbbing through her in time with the heartbeat, and it reminded her body it was injured.  The stitches throbbed.

Mr. Hall turned toward Musser.  “There are parts that can be removed or argued away.  A better lawyer than the one who wrote this can cancel this, eliminate this, let you ignore all of this.”

Lucy thought she might faint.  All that buildup, all that preparation.  For nothing.  Fodder for an expert, expensive contract lawyer to come through and annihilate in minutes.  Weeks of daily work, time she could’ve been with friends, boyfriend, or working on practice stuff, to handle this another way.

Then she saw his finger.

He was pointing at sections.

“Overall?”  Musser asked.

“It’s window dressing.  The stuff I cut away, the stuff you’d argue down, it’s extras, unimportant.”

“Things I’d have to work through, individually.  Different for each contract?”

“I’m not allowed to answer that.  The bones of it, the heart, it’s there.  You either accept Kennet with its responsibilities to each partner, or you disclaim what I’m guessing is every contract.  You can try to take Kennet without any of the contracts, but with virtually no claim at all.  Meanwhile-”

“We get a ton, right?” Lucy asked.  “Because we took on that responsibility.  It’s ours.  It’s part of our claim.”

“I can’t elaborate or agree too much.”

If Musser wanted, he could reduce that claim.  Shrink the stack of contracts by eliminating key people.  But what did that even get him in the long run?  Ontario without many of its markets?  An aftermath of messy Lordships?

“If I put a pawn in place here?  To hold the Lordship?”

Lucy answered, because Clark Hall couldn’t.  “Goes back to the ‘partnership’ and ‘divorce’ thing.  If you put a pawn into place to handle things and get this in order, they’re in the partnership.  It’s between them and their partner.  They can’t be your subordinate while they’re doing those things.  And if you put someone in place as Lord and they then vacate the seat to give it to you… they have to go through the steps in the contract for the divorcing part.”

Same for you, Lucy thought.

He seemed deep in thought.

“Then burn.”

“What?” Lucy asked.

“You’ve set up relationships to markets.  Relationships predicated on two things.  That there be an outside market, yes, you’ve explained why it would be a problem to try to track them down, answer each individually, and handle it while you’re trying to match me in speed, recruiting one for every one I remove.  But it’s also based on there being a Kennet market here.  There is no need to hunt for it, no need to hold back.  So expect my visit.  Expect ruin, expect less gentleness than I’ve shown so far.  I’ve stated my intentions, there’s no reason to denounce my claim.  In the meantime, I’ll handle those who betrayed me to assist you and the Carmine by proxy.”

Lucy glanced at Durocher.

Do you see?  Do you care?  He wanted to hurt your students.  Now he’s threatening to burn our market to the ground.

Durocher didn’t say anything, but looked thoughtful.

“Expect me,” Musser said, turning to go.  “Thank you for the hospitality.  Mr. Hall, I know you can’t speak of anything or cooperate, but let me drive you home, and protect you on the way.  No obligations or expectations.”

He walked down the fire escape, followed by the three practitioners.

“That’s it?” Lucy asked.  “We cornered him, made Kennet too unappetizing, and…?”

“He’ll burn it down, rule over the ashes,” Matthew said.  “All he really needs is the territory.”

“A man like Musser, left with no good way to get what he wants, will not give up what he wanted,” Rook intoned.  “He will give up ‘good’.”

“And the guillotine over our heads remains?” Avery asked.

Lucy tensed.  Her hands were clenched and she worried she’d popped a stitch in her arm, because it felt bad, and maybe wet.

Maybe that was sweat, or her mind playing tricks on her.

“Bull,” Lucy said.  “No, there’s- this sucks too much.  There’s too much bullshit.  This is really how the world works?  He’s powerful, so he gets away with everything?  His fancy lawyer gets to rewrite events?  He gets away free?  He hurts people we care about?”

“Too often, you’re right, that’s how the world works,” Rook replied.  “I’ve been down this road many a time.  You learn to compromise more, to soften the blow.”

Lucy looked at her mom.  There was a degree of bewilderment, but she supposed that was fair.  That had been confusing, and convoluted, and her mom had missed the lead-in, because of work.

“What if we call the bluff?” Lucy asked.  “If we’re facing the risk we lose everything… if there’s thirty days left, we get a Christmas and most of a peak ski season with Kennet, then lose Kennet altogether… why not?”

“Because as much as this was a valiant project,” Rook said, “many of us can leave.  Miss and Kennet found can be put out of reach.  He can take the Lordship and unseat the Carmine and if we seal things enough, we can keep him from taking Kennet found.  We have full existences ahead of us.  More to do.  We will try again.”

“What if we don’t accept that?  What if we want this to be the try that counts?” Lucy asked.

“It did,” Miss replied.  “Even if it was a loss, it was a fine effort.  There may be a chance you can fight him.”

“With the Wild Hunt dogging us?” Lucy asked.  “For another month?  Can we get that far?  He came here because he needs a win and a win against Charles here will do a lot to weaken him, right?  Well… we need a fucking win too.”

“I suggest a vote,” Louise said.

“Fast?” Lucy asked.  “We need to do something.”

“Friends,” Verona said.  She looked at Avery.  “McCauleigh.  Other allies.”

The vote was called. There were parts of the vote she didn’t care much about.  She respected the leaders of Kennet below but if they voted on Lucy’s behalf or wanted to fight Musser when he attacked next month, it didn’t really matter.

But Connor and her mom didn’t raise their hands.  Lucy cared about that.  That mattered.

“That’s enough, I think,” Louise said, making a tally in her notebook.  “An agreement.  No, to the question of whether to let Musser go unanswered and flee Kennet.”

“We’re doing this?” Lucy asked, to be sure.  She smiled a bit at her mom.

She was pretty sure her mom got it, now.  What they were up against.  She didn’t ‘get’ practice, and she had grudges against some of the people here, but the dangers… their parents had all come around.  Where applicable.

“Alabaster,” Lucy said.  “I call on you.”

“Sable,” Avery said.  “You’ll do too.”

“Aurum,” Verona added.  “Any of you three, or all three.  Let’s leave the Carmine out of this?”

The light at the glass of the greenhouse-like encasement over Rook’s movable rooftop garden distorted further.  White light, golden light, and shadow intensified.

Glass broke.  Blood oozed from cracks.

All four Judges were present, now.

“Didn’t invite you,” Lucy told Charles.

“As if I’d miss it,” Charles replied, a fierce look in his eyes.  He had a Durocher-like energy, restless.  “Don’t worry.  I won’t say or do anything my fellow judges aren’t willing to say or do.  Make your statement.”

“I, Lucy Ellingson, challenge Musser.”

“I, Verona Hayward, second the motion.  We challenge him on-”

“On all that he is,” Lucy added.  “The points we made, the challenges, we called him out?  We made ourselves stand out and made ourselves something good, here, helping people.  We denied him what he wants.  He shouldn’t get to pull this shit.”

“No way he runs,” Avery said.  She glanced over the rooftop of Kennet’s Others and Aware, some of whom had risen from their seats.  “No way he leaves this hanging over our heads a third time, making threats for the future.”

“I don’t buy that he’s a leader,” Lucy added.  “I don’t buy he’s legit, either.  Not like he’s a self-made man.  So let’s make that challenge, test us, test him.”

“Granted,” Charles answered the statement, and he did it with a mean smile that Lucy didn’t trust at all.

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