He didn’t want to take either of those options. He had so few memories with her, from when she’d been a toddler, but they’d stayed with him. He remembered the sparkle in her eye as she saw the princess costume he’d had tailor-made for her. He recalled the look of consternation on her face as she’d sat at his dining room table while she practiced writing her letters. That frustration had become awe as he’d showed her what she could accomplish once she mastered the art, penning out florid letters in cursive with a fountain pen.
More than once, as he prepared tea to share with Lung during one of their long discussions, he’d thought of the mock tea party he’d had with his daughter.
Those moments seemed farther away now than they had in the days before he’d been reunited with her. He would never recapture them, he knew, but maybe he could find other, new memories to share with her. A deep conversation, a father’s pride at her accomplishments.
Before that was possible, he had to resolve this situation. Fixing her was too lofty a goal. Cementing his own power base would do as a short-term goal. He would need to show his people and the other cell blocks that there was a reason why he’d invested this much attention and effort into his daughter. To do that, he would have to decipher the puzzle of her psyche, figure out a way to coax her into demonstrating her power.
He was running out of time, judging by how his followers were acting.
“You will be disappointed if you expect my help, Marquis,” Lung’s low, heavily accented voice came from behind him.
“I know. You’re your own man.”
“I had more respect for you before this.”
Before my daughter.
“You and everyone else here. It’s a shame. I’d hoped I’d amassed enough credit that you and the rest of them could trust me to see this through to a successful conclusion.”
“Mmm,” Lung rumbled. ”Do you trust that you’ll see this through to a successful end?”
Marquis didn’t trust himself to lie convincingly, so he only smiled.
“You do have a plan?” Lung asked.
“You’ll see,” Marquis replied. ”Will you be attending the meeting?”
“I am not one of your lieutenants.”
“But you’ve earned yourself a reputation in a short span of time. That’s commendable.”
“No flattery. Get to the point.”
“It helps us both if you’re there.”
“You look more powerful if you have the mad dog on a leash,” Lung growled.
“Some may see it that way. I won’t deny it. But in my perspective, you’re dangerous, and people will notice if I’m unconcerned about having you loose in my block.”
“You’re insulting me. Saying you look down on me.”
“No. I’m stating the facts. Yes, in a straight fight, maybe you could give me a run for my money. Maybe not. But I have my underlings, and that leaves me fully confident I’d win.”
“You might not have those underlings for much longer if this continues.”
“I notice you’re not disagreeing.”
Lung offered a noncommittal grunt in response.
“If you stay,” Marquis said, resting his elbows on the railing, “You can meet the other cell block leaders, get a head start on figuring them out for when you’ve murdered me and taken over W Block.”
“You don’t sound concerned.”
“Someone’s going to try, Lung. Someone’s going to succeed. Might be in two years, might be in five years, or ten-”
“Or today,” Lung cut in.
Marquis waved him off. ”Not today. But it’s a fact that it’ll happen someday. I’d rather it was you, when that day comes.”
Lung’s eyebrows rose in a rare expression of surprise. ”Why?”
Marquis stood, stretching, and tossed his stub of a cigarette to the corridor below.
“You can’t imagine I’d be a kind or generous leader.”
Marquis laughed. ”No. But wouldn’t you rather be murdered by a rabid wild beast who happens to share your living space, than to have a onetime ally stab you in the back?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Lung replied. ”You’ll be dead either way.”
Marquis gave the man a slap on the shoulder. Lung tensed, more because of surprise at the abrupt, familiar gesture than anything else. Marquis sighed. ”There are times I envy you.”
He turned to head down the ramp, descending into the crowded area where supplies were being sorted.
Whimper showed him the books. A murder investigation novel, a young adult story featuring some romance with a ghost, a book with a bird mask on the cover and a Dickens novel. Marquis selected the last.
He seated himself on a bench where he had a view of both the corridor and the cell block entrance. While others cleared out of the area, Marquis glanced up at Lung, who still watched from the railing above.
He turned his attention to the book, pretending to read while thinking over the situation.
■
He glanced toward the door of bones in time to see the shadow of Amelia’s approach. Controlling his own ‘dead’ bones was harder, but he’d been standing at the ready to demolish the barrier, and pulled it down before she got there.
“You took some time,” he said.
Amelia hugged her arms to her body. ”I sat down to think and lost track of time.”
“We’re worriers, my girl. It’s an asset when applied in the right amount. Is your hair dry?”
Amelia touched her hair but didn’t venture a reply. He reached out to touch her hair, and again, he saw her flinch. ”Good enough. Have a seat. The latest, what was it, a novel from this ‘Fade’ series? It was there for auction. I could send someone to track it down if you’re interested.”
She shook her head.
“Not interested in reading, or not interested in reading that?”
“Both. Mostly the second part.”
“At least you have taste. Well, the meeting begins in one or two minutes. I would like you to attend, of course. Best if you don’t speak unless directly asked a question, and say less rather than more. It’s a tactic I employ myself, leaves you less room to say the wrong thing.”
“They’re going to ask me to use my power. I can’t.”
“I understand. Yes, they probably will want a demonstration. I only know what Lung’s told me, which isn’t much, and what you’ve said, which is even less. That in mind, I still think that a demonstration would do a great deal to secure our position.”
“I can’t,” her voice was small.
Then we may well die, my daughter.
“We’ll cope some other way, then,” he said. ”In the meantime, to convey the right image, it’s best if you make eye contact and speak clearly. Sit.”
“Okay.”
He stood, then seated himself on the table, his feet on the bench beside Amelia.
He gave the signal to Spruce and Whimper, and they stepped away from the entrance to Cell Block W.
All in all, there were twelve cell blocks with leaders. That meant that there were eleven leaders with eleven lieutenants arriving. Acidbath, Galvanate, Teacher, Lab Rat and Gavel were leaders of the cell blocks on the men’s side of the prison. Lustrum, Black Kaze, Glaistig Uaine, String Theory, Crane and Ingenue were the female leaders. There were other cell blocks, but twelve was generally agreed on as a good number. It left room for discussion without too much chaos, and it left enough cell blocks leaderless that they had elbow room to do business elsewhere.
“This is the healer?” Gavel asked.
“Amelia, yes.”
“My people say you’re taunting them, Marquis, having this girl staying in the men’s wing without a lover.”
“Not my intention, I assure you. I would guess some people are only looking for something to complain about.” Marquis looked pointedly at Gavel as he replied.
“Don’t waste my time with this male posturing,” Lustrum cut in. ”I have women to look after. I delivered your daughter to you b
ecause you promised repayment and because she asked. I wouldn’t mind seeing that payment.”
“It was implied that I would pay you back in coming weeks or months, not in a week.”
“And if I ask a month or two from now, will you postpone the payment yet again?”
“I don’t expect I will, but maybe you could clarify the payment you’re looking for?”
“She’s a healer. Some healing would serve.”
Damn, Marquis thought. She had to ask.
“Amelia isn’t healing anyone right now,” Marquis said.
“Ambiguous,” Crane’s voice was sonorous, smooth, “Is that because she can’t or because you’re ransoming her ability?”
Marquis only smiled.
“You explicitly let us know you were open for a meeting,” Teacher said. He didn’t look like a cape in the least. He was fat, for one thing, and he was ugly, with a red face and balding pate. ”Don’t be coy.”
“Coy? No, let’s say we’re simply weighing our options and getting a lay of the land. Healing’s rare. More than one person picked up on the fact that her codename meant ‘universal cure’.”
Teacher smiled, smug.
“But there’s a great deal of demand, and you’ll have to forgive me for being a doting father, but I won’t exhaust my daughter’s mental or physical resources to parcel out her healing. We’ll hear terms, we’ll discuss the offers and counteroffers over the next several days or weeks, and then we’ll let you know our decision.”
“You are holding her power for ransom,” Lustrum spoke.
A power she isn’t willing to use, one that I don’t know the particulars of. Worse, it’s tied to a deeper trauma that somehow involves the loss of a sister, and that’s not something that can be addressed in a matter of weeks.
“I suppose I am,” he replied.
Glaistig Uaine shifted position, and Marquis wasn’t the only one to give her his full attention. What he could see of her beneath the blackened tatters of her prison-sweats-turned-shroud suggested she was barely a teenager, but that was more due to her power than anything. She’d been one of the first prisoners of the Birdcage, and he suspected she would be one well after he’d died. Not that her megalomanical delusion was true. Rather, it was the fact that nobody dared to pick a fight with her.
When Glaistig Uaine spoke, her voice was eerie, a broken ensemble of a dozen people speaking in sync. ”Beware, Marquis. You will pay a thousandfold times for your arrogance when the armies of the faerie rouse and gather for the last war.“
“Rest assured, Glaistig Uaine, you’re scary enough on your own,” Marquis replied, smiling, ”I don’t need a whole army of your kind chasing me down.”
“There will be no chasing, for they are already in position to strike you down the moment they wake, three hundred years hence. You’re nothing more than the dream of the faerie. I can see it, so vivacious, so creative in its movements, even in slumber. I think it might have been an artist. I want it for my collection.“
He was glad Amelia didn’t challenge the ‘three hundred years’ thing and the notion that they would still be alive then. The ‘faerie’ didn’t react kindly to such.
“You’ve said as much before, noble Faerie,” he said, “Rest assured, you can have me when I’m dead. In the meantime, I will keep your warning well in mind.”
“Your daughter, too. Your faerie is kin to the one that sleeps inside the girl. I have no doubt this Amelia is a healer, but that’s only a facet of her true strength. I have decided I will not bargain with you, Marquis.“
Marquis used his hands to prop himself up as he leaned back. ”A shame, but understandable. You don’t need healing, and your people are a secondary concern.”
“I will collect them as they fall. But you are mistaken, Marquis. I am not expressing disinterest in her talents. I am saying that I will only deal with her as an equal.“
In years of using his power, of breaking his own bones and feeling the pain each time, Marquis had made himself a master at hiding his emotions beneath a mask. Even so, he only barely managed to contain his surprise.
“Very well,” he said. He reached into his pocket and deftly retrieved a cigarette. He took his time lighting it. ”We’ll be in touch, then.”
“Agreed.” Glaistig Uaine replied. She extended a hand to Amelia, and Marquis tensed.
Do I stop her?
Every rational part of his psyche told him that the leader of cell block C had no quarrel with his daughter, that she was in no danger. Every other part of him was telling him to stop her.
Amelia took Glaistig Uaine’s hand in her own, then hesitated. After a moment, she curtseyed.
I taught her to do that more than a decade ago.
Glaistig Uaine returned the curtsey, then turned to leave.
The gathered cell block leaders watched as the self-professed faerie left.
There were capes who were deluded enough to think that their powers were actually magic. There were capes who were neurotic in a way that didn’t shut them down or leave them unable to function. Glaistig Uaine was one who fit both categories, and she was powerful enough to make people listen to her. He’d never thought he could benefit from it.
Her lunacy actually plays out in my favor, Marquis thought to himself, even as his heart pounded in his chest. He’d planned to let the tension ratchet up until Amelia was forced to use her power to rescue him. Applying pressure, after a fashion, without being the one to force it. He didn’t like it, but he needed her to break out of this state she was in, she needed to break out of it for her own sake, and he was willing to risk everything to see it happen.
“It seems that cell block C will be cooperating with us,” Marquis said. Then he smiled.
“Glaistig Uaine might see things, but she isn’t usually wrong,” Galvanate said. ”She says the kid has power? Fine. Our issues are the usual. The dentist in cell block T charges a small fortune, and we’ve got some toothaches. Can you heal that?”
Amelia was still staring off towards the entrance to Marquis’ cell block.
“Amelia,” Marquis prodded her.
“What?” She stirred.
“Could you heal a toothache?”
“Theoretically,” she said.
Good, Marquis thought. Vague, but true.
“You’re cutting into my lieutenant’s business,” Teacher said. ”I won’t take that well.”
“Competition is the best thing in the long run,” Marquis replied. ”But maybe we can extend you a discount for your troubles?”
“Um,” Amelia spoke up. All eyes turned her way. ”A silly question, but if my dad says it’s okay, maybe we can offer a deal, in exchange for an answer?”
Marquis suppressed the urge to frown. ”I think we could.”
“I know the answer’s no, but nobody really talks about it outside, so I’m not sure why… but with everyone we’ve got in here, why can’t we break out?”
Marquis sighed. It was a newbie mistake, to dwell on the idea of escaping, but he hadn’t had the opportunity to counsel her. It was good that she was more animated, expressing interest in something other than regret, but this wasn’t helping their image and it wasn’t good to let people know her full capabilities just yet.
“It’s a hollowed out mountain,” Lab Rat said. ”Vacuum, containment foam-”
“No,” Teacher cut him off. ”You want the real answer, healer? It’ll cost.”
Amelia nodded. Marquis suppressed yet another urge to cringe.
“Measuring devices are scarce down here, so we don’t have the full picture, but there’s a solid running theory on why we can’t just teleport out or fly through the vacuum and punch our way through the side of the mountain.”
“Do tell,” Marquis said. It doesn’t matter in the end, but this is the first I’ve heard of it.
“Size warping technology. The device might be no bigger than a football, and that’s hidden somewhere in the middle of the rocky mountains. The warping apparatus would be
bigger, but there’s nothing saying it’s anywhere close to the actual prison. Reason we can’t break out is because we’re in a prison no bigger than your fist. And if all of this is only this small,” Teacher held up a fist, then tapped it against the nearest table, “How far are you going to have to dig or teleport to get through a surface this thick? Or through something as thick as that wall over there? Or a hundred feet of lead with gallons of containment foam on the outside?”
“Okay,” Amelia said. ”I understand. Thank you.”
That could have gone worse, Marquis thought. It’s depressing, but it could be worse.
Teacher shrugged. ”Thank me with healing for my cell block.”
“A discount,” Marquis said.
Teacher nodded. ”A discount is possible. What are you wanting?”
With that, the discussion was underway once more, and Marquis set about subtly setting the other cell block leaders against one another, controlling the conversation while making no promises.
This, he could handle. He felt a quiet relief replace his fear.
■
“Faeries,” Amelia muttered. They were venturing toward the communal dining area.
“Not real,” Marquis answered her. ”She sees things we can’t, the auroras that surround those with powers. She’s named them as something else.”
“No,” Amelia replied. ”I saw her physiology when I touched her. I couldn’t see what she sees, but I see how she’s carrying them inside her, drawing an energy from them. And there were three more, just beside her, and she was using that energy to feed them… but they weren’t active?”
“She collects souls of dead and dying parahumans,” Marquis replied. ”Or the souls of any living soul that gets on her bad side. But they’re not souls, really. Teacher says they’re psychic images, photocopies of a single individual’s personality, memories and powers. She can have a handful active and doing what she wants walking around at any given time.”
“They’re not faeries. Or souls, or psychic images. Our powers aren’t part of our bodies, exactly. I would be able to alter them or take them away if they were. What I saw when I touched glass-”
Worm Page 246
