Pale: 9.7 - Lucy
Author: Wildbow

Shaking Hands – 9.7 | Pale

“Hey Verona,” Lucy said, turning her face skyward and squinting against the noon sun.  “Do you know the rune for cold?  Or a combination?”

“No.  I think you’d have to negate or capture heat.”

“This is an oversight.  It’s too hot.”

“It really is,” Verona said.  “And it really is.”

“Self-respecting Canadian practitioners should have worked out cold runes and cold manipulation a while ago.”

They walked down the street, Lucy wearing a pink top and black shorts, a bangle of jewelry at her wrist to match her earring, another bit of jewelry around her ponytail for the same purpose, and sandals she could sort of run in.

Verona wore jean shorts, flat-soled shoes she’d drawn on or painted, and her top… Lucy glanced again at the top.  It was white and short-sleeved with broad navy-blue stripes and a wide and deep v-neck collar that Lucy wouldn’t have worn – the cut of it let a bit of Verona’s bra cup show.  It was one of those things that Lucy would have been overly self conscious of.

She plucked at the shoulder of Verona’s top, adjusting.

“Your mom fussed over it too.  Is it that bad?” Verona asked, doing another adjustment of the shoulders to adjust how the collar sat at her front.

“What did your mom say when you bought it?”

“I got it online.  It’s a little big but I guess I hoped I could grow into it.”

“You can send those things back.”

“Mehh.  That takes effort.  I have to carry it to the post office, mail it…”

Lucy pointed down the street to Verona’s house, then moved her arm about a foot to point further down the street, to the convenience store by the bridge.  “It’s a shorter distance than from your place to my house!  And you’ve walked over to my place at random, when you could’ve texted me!”

“I don’t know how you can raise your voice when it’s this hot out.”

“You make it easier when you’re ridiculous.”

“I want to take a shortcut through the river, cool off.”

“Spell cards and stuff in our bags will get wet.”

“Ugh.  Mind stopping at my house?  I want to grab some stuff, as a just-in-case.”

The front door was unlocked.  Verona paused at the door.  “Want to come in?  I think my dad’s home.”

“Can I get some water?”

Verona held the door open wider, stepping out of the way, to let Lucy in.  The windows were open and sheer drapes blew in, and with lights off, it was dark and sorta cool inside.  If anything, the breeze in through the windows felt warmer than the house interior.

“I’ll grab stuff.  Get me some water too?  You should know where stuff is.”

“Hasn’t changed!” Verona called down, as she headed upstairs.

That didn’t help.  She’d wanted directions.  Lucy went to the corner with the tupperware, opening it, and found the plastic water bottles with screw-on lids.  She took them to the sink to rinse and fill them.  She drank from one as she filled the second.

“I need a minute of your time to prep and paint the drywall in the basement this afternoon,” Verona’s dad said, from the dining room.

Lucy walked over.  Verona’s dad sat at the dining room table, in a wooden chair, laptop and some papers in front of him.  The sliding door behind him was open, so he’d weighed down the papers with various cutlery.  He startled a bit as he saw her.

“Oh!  You scared me.”

She raised her eyebrows, still drinking.

“You could help,” he told her.  “It shouldn’t take too long.  We’d also need to scrub the floor to prep for the interlocking hardwood floor.  I think it should be fun.  We could cut the time in half if you’re helping.”

She pulled the mostly-empty container from her mouth and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.  It tasted like sweat.  “If it takes a literal minute then I’m picturing us throwing buckets of paint on the wall and smearing it around.  That would be sorta fun.”

“A proper painting job,” he said, looking unimpressed.  “And the flooring is like a puzzle, it all clicks together.”

“A really boring puzzle where there’s no picture and all the pieces are the same?”

“It’s about fitting it to the shape of the room, I think.”

“Well, we’ve got people waiting for us, so I don’t think we can help.  But I hope you do have fun doing that.”

“I wish I could do all that bending over and reaching right now.”

“Yeah?” Lucy asked.  “One sec.”

She put the container in the sink and let it fill.  “How are you doing these days?”

“Right now I’m wishing I could convey the depth of my loathing for this man through the screen.  He insists on using programs that don’t convert over well.  It turns what should be a two-step process into a fifty-step process, I have to go over the articles he wrote and manually format them so they can go on the site… they’re not good articles.”

“I meant about your stomach.”

“Oh.  Could be better,” he said.  He frowned, touching the side of his belly.  “It’ll be a little while.  The older you get, the slower you heal.  Can you thank your mom for looking in on me?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said.  She turned off the tap, screwed on the caps, and wiped the outside of the bottles with a paper towel, before briefly wetting the paper towel and wiping her face.

Verona took another minute, so Lucy remained in the kitchen, in line of sight to Verona’s dad, who sat at the computer, making annoyed sounds here and there.

“Verona,” Verona’s dad said.  He grunted and made a pained expression as he stood from the wooden chair.  “Could I borrow your ear for a minute?”

“We actually can’t take too long, and I’m guessing you’re working on your second job-”

“One minute,” he told her.

Verona stood in the hallway, out of view of her dad, and motioned for Lucy to come.  Lucy grabbed the water bottles, kept the wet paper towel, and headed over.

“Verona.”  Verona’s dad followed Lucy.  “I’d like your help for a bit this afternoon.  Lucy can stick around as well, and I’d get dinner, as thanks.”

“It’s fine, we’re supposed to be somewhere,” Verona said, stepping through the door.  Lucy followed right after, a little weirded out by the dynamic.

“I’m trying to be nice about this with Lucy here.”

“So am I,” Verona said, facing her dad square-on from the front steps.  “I’ll see you later.”

“Come home a bit earlier than usual for dinner, okay?  So we can address some stuff?”

“Maybe!” Verona replied, turning to go.

“Your mother called!  I don’t know why she’s calling the house number instead of calling you, but I’d really rather she didn’t!” he called out, from the front door.  Lucy and Verona were already halfway across the lawn.

Then they were out of earshot.

They walked over in the direction of Matthew and Edith’s, and Verona wrote a note to herself on her hand.

“Are you going to get in trouble?” Lucy asked.

“He’ll get upset later probably.  But he usually gets upset, so it’s a bit meh?”

Lucy gave Verona a once-over, then noticed.  “You changed your top.”

Verona wore a black t-shirt with a v-neck and a pocket, now.  No precariously deep neckline.  She plucked at the front of her shirt, then said, “Your mom and you both mentioned it, so I figured I would.”

“I’ve remarked on stuff before and you haven’t cared.”

“Yeah, but like, I get more of a vote than you do about what I wear, right?  But if you and your mom comment I’m going to change.”

“Huh.  That’s… that’s very fair.  So I could enlist Avery, to get the two votes that beat your one-and-a-half votes?”

“If she’s being genuine about saying something, and not just saying it because you are, sure.”

Lucy used the wet paper towel to rub at her face, arms, neck, and collarbone.

“Temperature’s supposed to go up to thirty-five next week,” Verona said.

“Maybe you could set up your demesne or we could escape to the Paths for that.”

“Yeahhhhh, maybe.  I do like the idea of a mystical, soul-bound ritual being used just to have temperature control.”

“So do I.  All of this Kennet stuff is exhausting enough, I don’t want the heat sapping our strength, too.”

“Yeah,” Verona agreed.

They crossed the bridge, waited for traffic, and crossed the road.

“I hope Avery’s doing okay,” Verona said.

“Knowing Melissa, I dunno,” Lucy said.  “But every time I try to talk to Melissa, she has less and less patience for me.  So I don’t know what I’m supposed to say or do.”

“Yeah.  Maybe we kick her ass.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

“I had an Alpeana dream about her, you know?  Or it was partially about her.”

“We were friends and it was pretty bad,” Verona said.  “Realistic.  Makes it weird, you know?  I feel like if I went to talk to her and we got along, that’d help make it happen.”

“I know Melissa’s been a bit of a pill ever since she got hurt, but is it really nightmare material?” Lucy asked, smiling.

Verona shrugged.  She didn’t smile.

“Really?” Lucy pressed.

“It was a really bad dream,” Verona said.

“I had one too, you know?  About Booker?”

“I think that nightmare girl really needs to calm the heck down with that stuff.”

They navigated the residential streets, and the temperature got a bit better as they entered the shade of trees, with the breeze rolling down off the hill that loomed over Matthew and Edith’s.

Matthew opened the door as they approached, which suggested someone had been keeping a lookout.

Verona bent over, poured the last bit of water over her head, then dumped the plastic container in her bag before jogging up the walkway.

“Hey,” Lucy greeted Matthew.

“Overheated?” he asked.

“Edith’s loving it.”

“I bet,” Lucy said, smiling a bit.  “Who’s around?”

“Just a couple of our local Others.  We had to send most of the goblins home, because they were lounging around and sleeping here and that gets a little crazy.  Especially when they wake up at different times.”

He indicated the way in, and she stepped inside.

Tashlit and Edith came in from the backyard with its high wooden walls, while Ken remained behind, with Verona standing in the kitchen, hands on her hips, looking at him.

Lucy approached, and Verona, silent, indicated Ken, reclining in the sun.

“Hot, Ken?” Lucy asked.

“You could move to the shade.”

Lucy nudged Verona, and the two of them went to the chair, taking hold of the headrest, then dragging it.  Tashlit came over and added her strength, which helped a ton.

They pulled Ken over into the shade by the fence, and then went to get a fan from indoors, bringing it over and putting it on the table, the cord stretched taut on its way through the kitchen.

By the time they were done, clouds had stretched over the sky, giving Kennet a bit of shade.  The wind picked up.

“It’s really that easy, huh?” Verona asked, looking up at Tashlit.  Tashlit shrugged.

“I’m putting in an effort, actually,” Ken said, not opening his eyes.  “Making it apply.”

“Can you do something about the thirty-five degree temperature we’re expecting next week?” Verona asked.

“I should probably save my strength.”

“Ugh!” Verona groaned.  Lucy added her groan to Verona’s for good measure.

He turned his head and opened his eyes.  “I would’ve thought you’d like the heat.”

“Why?” Lucy asked him, eyebrows raising, hands on her hips.

“Because…” he paused, frowning.  “You’re kids?  Swimming?  It’s summer?  I dunno.”

“Sure,” she said.  She turned and looked back at Edith.  “What’s the plan?”

“Basement,” Edith said.

They followed her.  Through the house, past a decoration that was an arrangement of carefully scorched wood into something that could almost have been a rune, but wasn’t recognizable to Lucy, and down the stairs.  A shelf overlooking the stairs had some carvings on it, wood blackened and then carved down, a bear, a leaping fish.  They weren’t great but they weren’t so bad she wouldn’t display them either.  Probably Matthew’s work.

“Hey, Tashlit,” Verona said, as they made their way down into the basement.  “Did you get a tan?  Is that okay to ask?”

Tashlit nodded, and pulled at her loose skin.  Because it folded and draped, different parts of it had caught the sun, leaving some parts pale and other parts tanned.  Abruptly, Tashlit pulled on loose skin, turned it inside out, and stretched the meaty underside toward Verona’s face.

Verona laughed, “Gross!”

“Careful on the stairs,” Lucy said.  She wasn’t looking at Tashlit, who was just behind her, but she heard the eyes all blinking, together.

“So Tashlit, I did some online shopping and it was a bit hit or miss.  You want the stuff that didn’t fit me?”

Tashlit gestured from her eyes to the bag.

“I’ll show you in a bit, yeah.”

“I brought music,” Lucy said.  “I’m not sure of your style but if there’s something you like you can let me know, I’ll search for more.”

Tashlit made a gesture, like a shrug, but with hands bending at the wrist, palms up, halfway between her and Lucy, before her fingers waved around.

“I don’t know what you’re gesturing, sorry.”

“What genre?” Verona asked.

“Oh!  Uh, all sorts.  I like unique and new sounds more than anything.  Usually I’ll find a song I really like and then I’ll search up stuff that’s related and listen to it to death, get bored with everything, and then eventually find another song I really like again.”

“What sort of music do you listen to, Edith?” Verona asked, as Edith led the way downstairs.

“I inherited Edith James’s music collection, and I got into the habit of listening to it.  Tashlit’s music came from a part of my collection I didn’t listen to.  But I listen to some nineties pop.  Europop.  I’m not a musical person.”

“French pop can be really good,” Lucy said.

“Some depressing music that’s a… what do you call a guilty pleasure that’s touched with actual guilt?” Edith asked, as she reached the bottom of the stairwell and looked up.

“Do you feel actual guilt?” Verona asked.

Edith moved her shoulders forward in a kind of tight, small shrug.  “I wouldn’t exist without her.”

“You had no part in it,” Matthew said, from above.  “You spared her family some pain, that’s all.”

“Come on,” Edith said. “This way.”

The basement was finished, and the wood paneling suggested it was Matthew’s work.  Nice wood, oiled or lacquered in a way that brought out warm tones, with the bright summer sunlight streaming in through the high, small windows at the edges.  It was cool down here.

They walked around a set of four walls that apparently enclosed a tiny bathroom in the otherwise open space, decorated with what might have been collected furniture that had migrated down from upstairs.  McKay was there, sitting in a circle of chalk poured on the floor.

“Who drew the circle?” Lucy asked.

“I did,” Edith said.  “It’s a paper bag prison, to use a metaphor, but your binding was secure enough that it works.”

“Are they treating you well, McKay?” Lucy asked.

“I don’t know what it means to treat someone well,” McKay said.  “I’m being fed, I’m clothed.  I’m mostly unhurt.”

“Has he said much?” Verona asked.

“I was told not to say anything,” McKay told them.

“He was told not to say more because he’s bound by you,” Matthew said, walking around to the opposite side of the circle on the floor.  “We had a sense that as he answered questions, we were gaining a claim over him.  To bind an Other in a way that others can use them or question them freely is more intricate.  There’s a reason the texts that list Others for summoning can cost a pretty penny.  Speaking of…”

Matthew stood on the arm of the couch, opened a window, and hollered outside, “Toadswallow!  Montague!”

“Can you get the eyeball thing to stop staring at me?” McKay asked.

“She’s not a ‘thing’, dude,” Verona said.

Tashlit approached and bent down, sitting on her ankles, separated from the man by the chalk on the floor.  He made a face and broke eye contact, which meant turning his head and body away.

“I think I like her,” Lucy said.

“We asked some basic questions to try and get a sense of who and what they are.  There were three of them, with the very recent new addition that came from the highway, which apparently isn’t human or humanoid,” Matthew said.  “He doesn’t know what labels fit them, because he’s never sought out a deeper understanding of our world, Others, or practice.  He found the body thief, the thing you called a parasite in your notes, and that Other knew enough that he was happy to follow its lead.”

“The watch and scars?” Lucy asked.

“Yeah.  McKay and that Other have been paired up for a little while.  McKay prefers lawyers and cops.”

“Bonus: they drink a lot,” McKay said.  “A lot of lawyers are alcoholics.”

There was a noise at the window.  Toadswallow squeezed his way in, then hopped down onto the couch cushion.  He wore a black vest and white button-up shirt, a gold chain extending from a button on his vest to a breast pocket.  The ‘monocle’ he wore looked like he’d snapped away the one lens from a pair of thick-framed, round kid’s glasses, the bits that were supposed to go over the nose and extend to the arm stuck out, broken.

He tossed a stuffed toy to the floor, and it landed with a wet sound, like it was drenched with liquid.  Tears in the stuffed bear opened wide, showing meat instead of stuffing, and liquid leaked out, spider legs allowing it to crawl over to the shelf.

“Hell, that thing scares me,” McKay said.

Spider legs pulled about five things down from the shelf before Montague found what he wanted.  Verona walked over and began putting things back as the stuffed animal and the various limbs hugged a little travel radio to the bear’s chest.

“Good afternoon…” The radio crackled, distorted.  “…listeners.”

It clunked heavily to the floor.

McKay huffed out a breath, big and slow, clearly nervous.

“All good, Toad?” Verona asked.

“Good enough, my dear.  I brought things.”

“One thing at a time?” Matthew asked.  He ran his hand over hair- he needed a bit of a haircut.  Lucy wondered if he’d even had the time.  “Let’s deal with our invaders?”

“Can I bring you anything?” Edith asked.  “Water?  Snacks?”

“Water would be great,” Lucy said.  “Can you fill this up?”

Edith took the container.

“Nothing for me,” Verona said, but Tashlit raised her hand.

“Tashlit and Lucy, then,” Edith said.  “Excuse me, I’ll return shortly.”

“So… should we just ask questions?” Verona asked, looking at McKay.

“I think we should establish what we’re doing, first,” Lucy said.  She turned to Matthew.  “What are we doing?”

“Interrogating him.  Finding the invaders.”

“Okay,” she told him.  “Are you interrogating him or are we?”

“I think you’d have to, because we weaken your binding by trying.  He’s bound by you.”

“Okay.  Then I want to make some things clear,” Lucy said. “Hey Ronnie?  Avery said you had a sound thing you did.  Can you block McKay from saying anything?”

“I could.  We could also use the binding to make him never mention it or something.”

“I’d rather do it my way.  Without imposing or forcing something on him.”

Verona found the little bag of chalk that had a corner cut off, and began to draw with it.  Lucy watched, and once Verona pulled out her wallet and got a card to better shape the chalk she’d poured out, Lucy began to copy the symbol.

The chalk drifted a bit and fell in clumps as she poured, wind coming in through the open window, maybe, but it curled and formed its own elaboration.

McKay shifted, getting increasingly uncomfortable as the diagram was elaborated on, then stood.

The chalk was cooperating, in the same way drawing the circle hadn’t, earlier.  She’d picked an implement and now she had to play into that, to let it dictate the practice she performed.  This was more suited for her- her earring was tied to her hearing, after all.

Verona saw and copied it.

“You’re just going to have to erase that in a few minutes, won’t you?” Matthew asked.

“It’s important,” Lucy said.

Edith came down from upstairs, handing Lucy the water, then handing Tashlit a glass.  Edith put a hand at the base of the glass while Tashlit put loose-skinned hands around the exterior, holding it with care.

“There,” Verona said.

It was only three ‘silence’ runes, which were modified air runes with some connection stuff.  But Verona seemed confident and Lucy figured that confidence was a good chunk of what pushed this stuff to work out.

“Say something?” Lucy asked McKay.

He shook his head, his mouth moved like he was talking, and he gestured to his ear.

Lucy turned to face Matthew and Edith.  Her back was to McKay, as uncomfortable as that was- she remembered him grabbing her.  But she felt it was more important to face them.  “Let’s be really clear about how we do this, because I think the unclear stuff really isn’t working.”

Verona nodded beside her.

“Clear about?” Matthew asked.

“To start with, we bound him for Kennet.  Because of responsibilities we took at Awakening.”

“I gave you the option of reducing your duties, John could have-”

“Stop,” Lucy cut him off.  “Please.”

“What are you doing?” Matthew asked.

“We bound him for Kennet.  And I know the Kennet Others have strong feelings about Binding, and so I think it’s very clear to leave as little as possible up to debate or…”

Verona looked at her.  Lucy sorta wished Verona could supply the word, but that was pretty unfair when she couldn’t find it.

“…hypocrisy?  Unfairness?” she finished.

“You don’t sound sure,” Edith said.

“I might not be able to find the word, Edith, but I’m pretty sure something’s hinky here.  That last big meeting we were invited to?  That wasn’t great.  And it’s part of a string of things that haven’t been great.  This isn’t entirely about you two, either.  Sorry Toad.”

“Carry on,” Toadswallow said, looking more like he was enjoying himself than not.

She wished he didn’t and wasn’t.  That he’d look embarrassed, or that he’d give her some tell.  She drew in a deep breath, and she looked up at Matthew and Edith.  “We swore to protect all sides of Kennet, including Other and human.  We did what we were told and we made it clear that this was our territory, as practitioners, that was pretty much what we were told would be our jobs as local practitioners.  That we just had to say that.  And things went sideways.  After Miss left, things changed.  We took on the task of dealing with the Hungry Choir, in accordance with our duties, and we were opposed in that.”

“It was more complicated than you made it sound,” Matthew said.  “You went against us to let the woman from the Choir ritual go.”

“She was only ‘the woman’, then.”

“To deal with the Choir,” Lucy said.  “Which was causing ongoing problems and drawing outside interest.”

“Removing the choir was a decision that may have caused more harm than good, as awful as that sounds,” Edith said.

“Really?” Lucy asked.

“A handful of lives a month, in contrast to what may impact or cost the lives of the five thousand residents of Kennet?  With ripple effects extending outward?” she asked.  “We are in the grim situation we’re in now because we don’t have the Choir’s power.  Kennet’s Others debated and considered that when we made the decision.”

“To refuse to step in, to tie our hands and not teach binding?” Lucy asked.

“When we were told we’d be taught properly, around awakening?” Verona asked, joining in.

So much about Lucy felt shaky, and intense, and on edge, having to confront Matthew and Edith like this, and Verona stepping in like that to back her up, to complement her?  It was the opposite of shaky and intense and on edge.  She would have called it heart-melting, but it wasn’t.  It brought feelings home and for a second she felt like she could cry, because of it, and she had to close her eyes and fight not to.

The sweat from the walk over made the edges of her eyes sting as she pressed them closed.

“The timing was wrong,” Edith said.  “And we discussed that part of it too.”

“Without reservation,” Lucy told her.  “You were supposed to teach us and give us power without reservation.”

“That was Miss’s elaboration, at the time of the ritual.”

“You ate our offered ash and gave-”

“Crystal,” Verona supplied.

“-gave crystal in return.  It may have been Miss’s words but you did the equivalent of signing your name to the deal, didn’t you?” Lucy asked.

“Careful,” Matthew said, quiet.

“Careful!?”  Lucy raised her voice.  “I’m trying to be careful, that’s why we’re having this discussion right now!  Because it sure seems to me like we’re going above and beyond in fulfilling our duties, we’re being pretty darn fair and considered, we’re protecting people and protecting you guys, we’re investigating as requested, we’re standing up to outside practitioners and we’re getting hurt!  Over and over again, we get hurt and it sucks!”

“I meant about calling us liars,” Matthew said.  “That’s a heavy accusation, leveled at us when it’s about a deal we’ve made and, as you said, signed.  You don’t know the full story.  You haven’t been privy to discussions.”

“Because you leave us out of them!” Lucy raised her voice.  “Because you have secret votes and leave us to guess!  I fucking hate guessing, Matthew!  I fucking hate wondering!  We step in to face down Alexander and apparently the fact we’re dealing with him is cause to deny us lessons and treat us like crap!  We go to magic school, one of our given gifts, and we do it for Kennet, for you guys!  And what do we come home to?”

Toadswallow wasn’t smiling anymore.  Nobody was.

“Suspicion,” Verona said, looking off to the side.

“That’s why I want to have this talk!  We come home to find you’re being even more awful!” Lucy added.  “Montague’s offer of gifts gets twisted against us and it’s made to look like we’re the jerks.  Avery thinks of the tools we have available that could actually fix things, inviting in outside help, and yeah, I get you don’t like practitioners and it’s a little tone deaf, but we’re not even invited to argue our side of it?  Or to suggest a deal we could have them sign?”

“We were told we’d get a vote,” Verona said.  “But apparently not for the stuff that matters?”

“This is awkward to discuss with Others like Tashlit and Montague in the room,” Matthew said, “but we’re trying to strike a fine balance.”

“We’re a part of that freaking balance, Matthew!” Lucy shouted.  “We’re in this for the long haul, aren’t we!?  You, Edith, me, Verona, Avery, Snowdrop!?  We’re supposed to get to a point- a point where things are okay, and we’re still working together in a few decades… aren’t we?  Wasn’t that the idea?”

She faltered at the end there.

Dangerously close to revealing what she’d overheard.

Verona was looking at her.

“That’s the intention,” Toadswallow said.

Tashlit gave a thumbs up.  Verona gave her a high-five.

There was a buzz of response from Montague as the radio clicked on.  “…no need to waste your money on your standard life insurance plan…”  There was a click, followed by a different voice, “long and happy life with-”  Click, different speaker.  “-all of us having this discussion here, trying to figure out-”

Lucy wasn’t sure what she’d expected.  Dodging, verbal evasion, something else.

She looked up at Matthew.

“The problem,” Edith said, standing beside Matthew., “is as much as we’d want that, the ideas of how to get there can differ drastically, and we run into conflict when those differences run up against one another.”

“We fix that with communication,” Verona said.

“Words can easily be weapons.  You came perilously close to holding one of those weapons against my throat a minute ago,” Edith said.

“Didn’t you hold it against your own throat?” Lucy asked.

“Okay, enough,” Matthew said.  “Can we calm down?  This is- I had several beers with lunch because I thought we’d have a calm, quiet discussion with McKay, not… this.”

There was an opportunity to force Matthew to answer.  To press the issue, reveal what she’d overheard, and reconcile this whole thing that made no sense.  Had she been tricked?  Was Toadswallow playing a game where he’d attended the meeting -she’d seen him there- but was picking words with care?

But pressing the issue could get them an answer they weren’t ready for.  An admission or worse.

Then Matthew or Edith or the others who weren’t here would know she’d overheard, that she knew they were plotting something, and then what?

Either she’d have to go nuclear, with no guarantee it would work -either a fight or calling them out on failing them in the deal for what was essentially a forswearing- or she’d have to let it go.

And they had way too many ways they could retaliate.  Going after Booker and mom?

Verona took Lucy’s hand and squeezed it.

“This stuff you’re alleging isn’t targeted,” Matthew said.  “It’s the product of us trying to balance the different desires and needs of a lot of Others.  Many of whom feel vulnerable and who have bad experiences with practitioners.  I don’t love the result of every vote or the decisions we’ve ended up making, and it’s- again, this is awkward, with Tashlit and Montague here, because some of the new Others are fresh off the backs of those bad experiences.”

“It feels sometimes like the only thing we’ve done that you were actually thankful for was Verona messing up and losing her bag,” Lucy said.

“When Miss named and pointed you out as quickly as she did, we expected…” Edith trailed off.  “Less?”

Lucy raised her eyebrows.

“She’s Lost,” Verona said.  “She’s very good at spotting the things many others would miss, things that could slip away from view entirely.”

“Apparently,” Edith said.  She sighed.  “A lot of what you’re upset about came about because we were so shocked you were so capable.”

“I left the Tedd princesses and others behind when practitioners less savvy and less powerful than you three started trying to figure out how to bind me to keep me for themselves.  The Tedds’ father wanted to use me as a bargaining chip, hoping that if he gave them me, they’d do as he’d hoped and pick up more practices.”

“Is that what happened?” Verona asked.

“Don’t get sidetracked,” Lucy murmured.

“It did.  He was happy to let them pursue their interests, because he thought they’d pick up all the combat-relevant practices, and I was to be a bargaining chip to entice them further along that path.  I tore out the pages related to me and disappeared.”

“We have their number.  We could let them know,” Verona said.

Toadswallow considered, then told her, “As you wish.  I’ll leave that decision to you.  I hinted at it, but I didn’t want to give the man reasons to look harder for me.  My point is, dear girls, I’m wary.  I’m clever and capable for my size, I’m traveled, I’ve learned and I didn’t expect you to learn and work with one another like you did.  I can understand why others would vote against teaching you binding.  Or how they might worry how you changed when away at school, when you’d grown so fast already from the meager gifts we’d given you.”

“We’re a little shocked and worried too,” Lucy said, and now that she wasn’t shouting her demeanor was very, very tired.  “You… we expected better, in return.  And right now, with this guy in the circle behind me-”

She glanced back.  The officer sat, frowning.

“-I’m worried that the fact we bound him is going to come back to bite us.  The way these things have gone, it feels like we could do as we’re told, help out, and then because we do a good job, apparently, you guys get scared and treat us worse.”

“That’s not exactly what happened, but I can understand the viewpoint,” Edith said.

“I don’t want to fight.  Avery asked me to be nice, here, and I guess I’ll let things drop some, to try and do that.  So just… acknowledge?  We bound him for your sakes, because it was the only good way to get him out of the station in a prompt way, that didn’t expose too many people to Jabber for too long.”

“So acknowledged,” Toadswallow said.  When Matthew turned, looking at him, he said, “I had a bit of discourse with John and the goblins.  The guy’s bigger and stronger than John, they only barely had him.”

Lucy nodded.  “Thank you, Toadswallow.”

“Acknowledged, then,” Matthew said.  “We won’t hold it against you.”

“And acknowledge, please, that we’ll interrogate him, using that binding, as much as I really don’t want to?  This feels gross.”

“Acknowledged,” Edith said.

“Thank you,” Lucy said, again.

This didn’t feel resolved.  As Lucy turned to face McKay, scuffing the silence rune with her toe, she felt worse having Matthew and Edith behind her than she’d had with McKay behind her.

And McKay had manhandled her, strangled her, had put a hand on her face with fingers digging into her chin for a grip, like he’d planned to tear her head off, or snap her neck.

She hadn’t actually had that great of a look at him, at the station.  He’d been behind her for most of it, she’d been dizzy, and then there’d been smoke and stuff.

He was standing in the circle, some plates from eating around his feet.  He was still in uniform, and even though the basement was relatively cool, he had sweat stains at his pits, and his hair was sticking up a bit, sweaty.

Verona hopped over to scuff the other two silence runes.

“You like to become cops and lawyers, huh?”

“Cops have power, lawyers have money,” McKay said, chewing on his lip for a second after speaking.

“Tell me about your friend.  The parasite.”

McKay drew in a breath, sighed, and looked to one side.

“The Other named McKay, you’ve been bound, you’ve agreed, answer my question.  Tell me about your friend.  This is going to be a very long process if I have to ask you every question three times.”

“What do I get out of it?” McKay asked.  “Or what are you going to do?  Authority only matters if you can execute it.  Remind people.  So maybe you need to remind me.  Got the guts?”

Lucy decided she really didn’t like this guy.

“I have no intention of keeping you for any longer than necessary,” Lucy told him.  “You’re an unrepentant and ongoing danger to humans, you refuse to cooperate every step of the way, you refused John’s offers, so when we’re done, I guess we’ve got two options.”

“I turn you over to these guys to deal with, with strict orders that you’re not to be allowed out into society again, not the way you are now.  Or I think you can cooperate on some level, we give you some restrictions, and you’re free again.”

“To be decided,” Verona said, behind him, forcing him to turn to look at her.  “Probably some junk like no hurting innocents, no taking the bodies of anyone who doesn’t absolutely deserve it.”

“Having to do good for society as a whole, each time you take over some horrible criminal who’s never been caught, borrow his life, right the wrongs, confess, turn over stolen money and goods, and-or rig it so they get caught as you return their lives to them, something like that,” Lucy said.  “All contingent on the votes and input of the Kennet Others, of course, with our input.  We’ll lay it all out as clearly as possible.”

She glanced back and Edith and Matthew didn’t say or do anything, but Toadswallow was smiling.

She still wasn’t sure where she stood with them, and all that.

What had she overheard?  One of Maricica’s tricks?  One of Guilherme’s?

“Seems like it would slow me down an awful lot,” McKay said.  “I think there’s room to negotiate.”

“No, that’s the deal.  We decide at the end, based on how cooperative you are.  This companion of yours?  With the watch?”

“Bridge,” McKay said.

Lucy gestured for him to go on.

“Is that a word?” Verona asked.  “A name?”

“Three times I’ve asked, three times you’ve failed to give sufficient answer, I-”

“He goes by Bridge.  Prefers male bodies.  I don’t care one way or the other.  Deviated septum or broken nose, counterfeit watch, tattoo over the heart, cut up hands.  Some behavioral stuff.  When he takes over a body they all gain those things, but it’s him at the helm.  He’s the smartest of us three.  Knows about your types, with your circles and magic bullcrap.”

“What behavioral stuff?” Verona asked.  “C’mon, dude, you were talkative last night.”

“Nervous tapping, picky about food, always gets up at the crack of dawn.  He’d rather watch out a window for trouble than take it easy and put a TV show on.  He says he was some young guy, got picked up purely because he had an old record and a tattoo that sounded like it matched the one a real scumbag had.  It got him picked up for a crime, watch and the nose thing kind of lined up too.  None of it exactly right, but it was close enough and they wanted the arrest.  Only thing was the hands.  That’s specific, the victim was insistent about them, and it didn’t fit.”

“Cop smashed his hand, asked if that would scar.  And from there, the scars spread out like herpes, he says.  The more they pushed it and the more he protested, the more the scars appeared.  One after another, until they covered his hands, like little nicks from a knife.  He thought the cops were doing all of it while he slept, but then he got to watch one appear out of nowhere.  Tattoo moved, nose did that deviated septum thing, couldn’t breathe through it.  He lost it, went after them, while he was being moved to a conversation with his lawyer, got his hands on a weapon, and got a bullet for his trouble.”

“And the scars survived him?” Lucy asked.

“Guess so.  Got buried with the watch on, but the watch disappeared, scars on the hands went away, tattoo moved.  Someone wrote an article about it.  Bridge showed me.  Now he gets by, crawls along, borrows bodies for a few days or weeks at a time, rigs videos so the people have footage of themselves getting blackout drunk or taking mystery pills, moves on.  Trouble tends to follow him, allegations, but certain bodies will make those allegations stick less.”

“Where is he now?” Lucy asked.

“No idea.  He has to know you’d be able to question me.  He’ll be looking for new bodies.  It’s harder here, he says.  Harder to exist without a body, harder to stay in a body.”

“And the third?  Complex spirit or something?  Complex echo?”

“Composite?” Matthew asked.

“I don’t have any idea what he is.  Looks like a kid, so that’s what we call him.”

“Sure.  Older teen, you saw.  Sticks to a pattern, drinking at night, dragging kids around with him, shows up at the station, talks to Bridge or talks to me, we let them off with a warning.  He didn’t tell us much, but we haven’t known each other for long.  He gets cash from his families, he says.  Borrows a car sometimes- I’ve seen two different cars.  Just goes, asks for them, asks for allowance or goes into this grocery store to get his last paycheque, and they hand it over.  Every time, like they’ve forgotten the last times.”

“Peyton got caught up in that pattern,” Verona said.

“Apparently,” Lucy replied, quiet.  “Does he change bodies?”

“Where does he go?” Verona asked.

“I couldn’t tell you the addresses.  I would have taken notes, but the kid’d’ve have gotten pissed, I think.  If you wanted to drive me around, I could maybe point at the house if I recognized it.”

“That’s a lot of ifs,” Lucy said.

“I didn’t go out of my way to commit it to memory, and I had no interest in going behind his back.  Bridge trusted him, so I did too.”

“And his motivations?” Lucy asked.  “What were you guys after?”

“Don’t know about him, specifically, but mostly we wanted to avoid you guys, leave no trails, then we’d invite more in.”

“Body thieves, tricksters.  Anyone who could give us a shot at pulling something bigger.  Whatever’s happening to this town, it feels like it’s making that easier.”

“Elaborate,” Lucy told him.

“We figured… seven or eight of us, all in the right positions, seeing how three of those teenagers disappeared, what’s another handful?  Bunch of people old enough to have run away, history of problems.  If we wore the right bodies and used those bodies to hold up a bank or raid some stores, we could disappear right after.  Pin the blame on your local Others, bring the extra bodies we kidnapped with, so we’d have spare bodies for once, live in luxury for a bit.  The way things usually go for body thieves like me or Bridge, that kind of security’s more than we could dream of, normally.  Practitioners despise us because we can pick up the practice, Others aren’t so fond of us.  Look at the way they’re looking at me.”

“But we’re vulnerable,” Lucy said, looking back at Matthew and Edith.  Both looked grim.

“Very,” Matthew said.

“Raw and open like a bleeding wound,” McKay said.  “We had a shot and we took it.  I don’t know what they’re going to try and do now, but The Kid?  That composite or whatever you called him?  Said there were lots of places around Ontario, for him.  Other cities he can go to, with people willing to pay his way, lend him cars, give him places to stay.”

“And this new Other?”

“I don’t have any idea, but the Composite Kid?  He was laughing once he got it to calm down.  Said it opened doors.  We would have talked about it more, but he had to check in with the families and the kids he hangs with.”

“What is it?  What does it look like?” Verona asked.

“Looks like a shadow if shadows could get gnarly cases of cancer.  Four legged, covered in black oil, bubbling, flesh and gore in the bubbles.  And the world around it’s like… like a waterbed, bulges up and out.  Doors move to the side.  I don’t know more.  Didn’t ask, there wasn’t an opportunity, and I kind of didn’t care.”

“Seems like the sort of thing you’d care about, if they’re that excited about it,” Lucy said.

“I’m a simple creature,” McKay said.  He sat down.  “Sorry.”

“You’ve traveled,” Matthew told Toadswallow.  “Recognize that thing by description?”

“There are too many things it could be.  I have inklings, but most important, it sounds heavy.  That may be the distortion.”

“We read about that,” Verona said.  “It was taught in one class we didn’t attend, I think, but we got the gist.  Stuff big enough can create depressions.  Stuff concentrates in those depressions.  That’s how a god creates a realm around it just by hanging out in a place.”

“Or a Carmine Beast does, hm?” Toadswallow asked.

Verona pointed two fingers at Toadswallow and winked.

“The Carmine Beast’s blood, all over Kennet,” Lucy said.  “It was drawn to it, and if that stuff’s collecting beneath it…”

She looked up at Matthew and Edith.

Neither gave anything away.

If that stuff was collecting beneath it, would that create a tiny little Carmine realm that it carried around with it?  Did that give it claim?  Did it want claim?

They didn’t know enough.

“Doesn’t help us find it or deal with it,” Matthew said.

“It might,” Verona said.  “Do we have more questions?  Is there more?”

“I don’t know,” Lucy said.  “Why?”

“Because I have ideas, now that we have hints,” Verona said.  “If it’s shadowy we should try to track it down in daylight.”

“Can we?” Lucy asked.  “They’re good at cleaning tracks.”

“Everything bad outside Kennet is basically rolling downhill to us, right?  And this thing might have a depression beneath it, so even more bad stuff is rolling toward it?”

“Yeah,” Lucy said.  “So… we put something down that can roll and follow it?”

“Basically,” Verona said.

“Is that okay?” Lucy asked Matthew, a little terse.

“It should be.  You should bring help.  There’s still a good few hours of daylight.”

“Okay,” Lucy said.  She looked at their captive.  Ugh. “I think we should let McKay go, as soon as we’ve checked nothing else is going to come up, discussed it with the other Others, and worked out the terms.”

“Yeah, okay,” Matthew said.  “Maybe after we’ve dealt with the co-conspirators?  So they don’t try and find a way to free him from the binding?”

“What do you need?” Matthew asked.  “And who?”

“Are you coming because you think you’re a good fit, or because you want to hang?” Verona asked.

Tashlit held up two fingers.

“The second one.  We could try glamour,” Verona suggested.

“You could, but it doesn’t work,” Edith said.  “The Faerie tried.  It doesn’t sit well with Tashlit.”

“It’s daylight,” Verona said.  “This gets awkward if-”

Tashlit was already gesturing.  Waving Verona off.

“Another time.  I really want to.  Oh, what about tonight?  Alpeana can let us meet in dreams.”

“I don’t know if it means we need to go through a bit of awful nightmare first or if it’s easier, but we should do that.”

The radio crackled.  It took a second or two, then settled on- “—kkt.  Two for one!”

“Yeah?” Verona asked.  She looked at Lucy.  “You coming?”

“I think Montague meant he wants to come.”

“I know he meant he wants to come, but are you coming?  Should it be a party?  A bunch of us?”

Lucy looked back, almost out of habit, because she’d been checking Matthew and Edith’s reactions every step of the way.

“Be careful,” Matthew said.

“Montague takes over systems.  It might be a rough dream, whatever Alpeana tries.”

“I’m down to at least try,” Verona said.

“We want to get along with the new Others,” Lucy said.  “That starts with a conversation, ideally.”

“We should call Avery, check in,” Verona said.

“Is there more?  Can we leave him?” Lucy asked.  “We’ll let him go later?”

“Sure,” Matthew said.  “Toad?”

“You’re asking me before you ask your own wife?  Dear Matthew, sir, are you that fond of me?  I’ll get faint!” Toadswallow preened, back of his hand to his forehead, arm nearly knocking monocle free.

“I know my wife, I don’t know you as well.”

“Come on, girls.  Upstairs, let’s get some air.”

Lucy, Verona, and Tashlit headed upstairs, after Toadswallow, who had trouble ascending stairs.  Tashlit grabbed him by the waistband and lifted him up part of the way.

“Thank you.  That, ah, gave me a fierce wedgie, so thank you for that as well.  Here we are.”

He headed into the backyard, walked past a dozing Ken, went to the steps that led from porch to lawn, and fished around beneath it.   “Here.  For you to figure out.  You asked about it, here it is.”

“What’s this?” Verona asked.

“Confiscated by Jabber and the goblins, after Lis tipped them off.”

Verona tilted the bag for Lucy to look.

Glass tubes, jars, jugs, and various things of fluid.

“I would not, uh, carry around a bag full of that much arcane chemistry, without being very careful,” Lucy said.

“Use it as you see fit,” Toadswallow said.

“Maybe leave it there for right now?” Lucy asked Verona.

“Come on,” she said.  “Let’s catch up with Avery, experiment about maybe finding a way to track that scary oily Other…”

“Do you think it could be alchemical?” Verona asked.  She looked at Toadswallow.

“I don’t think the alchemists had time to make anything, when they came in,” Lucy said.  “It didn’t sound like they were around for long before Jabber and the goblins scared them off and took their stuff.”

“There’s a book in there!” Verona exclaimed.

“Just- just leave it?” Lucy asked.  “For now?”

“Stuff,” Verona said.  “Thanks for the stuff, Toad.  Um, wish I could give you something, unless you want a pretty top that’s too big for me.”

“I can make do without it,” he said, chuckling.

“Got enough?” Verona asked.

Verona grabbed the stuff she’d picked up at her house, with various clothes items.  “I don’t know how it’ll fit but if it doesn’t, I wouldn’t sweat it.  I’m supposed to call my mom so I might get some more clothes, and I can get something for you, if you want.”

Tashlit tried to wave her off, and Verona matched her, waving Tashlit off.

“I insist!” Verona said.

Lucy felt impatient, not entirely comfortable here, but they were solidifying alliances.  She forced herself to relax, dug in her bag for the CDs, and handed the stack to Tashlit.  “Do you have a CD player?”

“Avery brought her one, I think,” Verona said.

Tashlit pulled the skin at her forehead together, so her eyesockets were teardrop-shaped, the tips nearly touching, and pulled her mouth to the side.

“Don’t feel bad!” Verona told her.  “Seriously.  You listened to me on a night I needed to be listened to, you came here and gave us trust and you’re backing me up, right?”

“I wish we could hang out this afternoon, and tackle this thing together,” Verona said.  She looked at Lucy.  “We calling Avery?”

Matthew and Edith were in the house, talking.

“I wouldn’t overthink it.”

“Underthinking it spells trouble.  We should talk to the rest of the Others as soon as it’s dark.  If this situation doesn’t make that impossible.”

Matthew started to reply, but he saw Lucy looking, and he stopped.

“Come on,” Lucy said.  “Let’s not disturb Ken?”

“Already disturbed, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Ken grumbled, in a tone that suggested they should worry about it.

“Thanks Toad,” Verona said.  “Bye Tashlit.  Bye Ken!”

Lucy dragged Verona out the side of the backyard, latching it behind her.

They got a distance away before they felt free to talk.

“You like Tashlit, huh?”

“You know how you talked about John, and how he might be as a familiar?  A bit of a rock?  Reliable?”

“Yeahh.  I don’t think she’s a rock, exactly, but gosh, I wish I could be that cool while my skin’s falling off and I’m living in a shack, wearing donated clothes.”

Lucy smiled a bit.  “Yeah, I guess.”

“What if I made her a familiar?” Verona asked.

“If you- and cut Avery off from the Snowdrop ritual?  I think that would be a disaster.  Or do you mean long term, or…”

Verona didn’t reply right away, her expression changing.

“Does it… is there anything saying we strictly have to do implement, familiar, demesne?”

“I don’t know, Ronnie.  Implement, familiar, and familiar?”

“We’re trying to secure allies and work things out, right?  To be diplomatic?”

“I don’t think I’m diplomatic.  And I think you’re good with words but I don’t think you’re diplomatic, exactly, either.”

“Point is… what do you think?  Just as a thought?”

“I think spend more time with her, meet her tonight, sure.  If there’s an opportunity.  There’s no rush to jump into it.  And if you don’t want a demesne, you don’t have to.”

Lucy had no idea how to parse the feelings she was experiencing.  She couldn’t even put easy labels to them.

Jealousy, a bit, maybe?  But was there anything in there that was a buried sentiment of real concern?  How much of that was prejudice, when Tashlit was kind of really disconcerting to be around?  She really hoped it wasn’t that.

“You really wanted out of there, huh?” Verona asked.

Lucy blinked a few times, catching up and putting the inner turmoil aside.  “Uncomfortable.  Matthew and Edith.”

“Let me know the next time you’re planning something like that big thing?  We should have Avery around for moments like that.”

“I didn’t plan, I just- I wanted to do the thing where I got the big a-ok from them about the binding, and about the interrogation, so they couldn’t turn around and call us awful for doing it.”

“And it all came out?  I get that.”

“Didn’t use to happen, and now it’s happening a lot.”

“You’re way better at saying stuff when dishing it all out there, though,” Verona said.

“Ehhh.  Maybe.  But listen, um, since it did come out, and since I got close to some sensitive topics…”

Lucy looked around to make sure there were no listening goblins or anything.  She listened for rustling.  Nothing.

“Stuff we’ve talked about in private, yeah?” Verona said.  “Stuff that didn’t one hundred percent line up with the responses we got in there?”

Toadswallow, Tash, and Montague indicating they wanted to work with us for the long term.  How does that match up with them getting rid of us?

“Yeah, that,” Lucy said, in what felt like an understatement.

“Do you think it’s Rook?”

“I was thinking it was Faerie, more likely.”

“Are you saying that because you like Rook’s vibe?”

“I like Guilherme’s, uh, vibe, kind of.  But I feel like I’m realistic about him.”

Verona grunted noncommittally.  Lucy poked her friend’s arm.

Lucy hummed for a second, musing, then tried to put those musings to words, telling Verona, “I’m also thinking, just because I poked that bear some, maybe we should make sure we’re ready in case of retaliation.  They’re spooked, they’re bothered we’re standing up for ourselves, I just stood up for us, and I hinted I’m aware of what they’re doing.  Maybe we take precautions.”

“We should work out what those precautions are, and to do that we should talk to Avery.”

“Yeah.  Absolutely.  I hope the Melissa thing went okay,” Lucy said.  “Because this Other mess is looking like it’ll be bad enough.  But the big thing…”

She thought of the nightmare, and she wished she could feel like this was a thought that was wholly her own, and not one someone else had wanted her to have…

“I want to make sure our families are safe.”