Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Wrath of Isis

by P. T. Dilloway

  Emma took on the same tone as Dr. Richman as she asked, “Do you think I’m jealous of Renee because of what happened to Louise?”

  “Maybe not jealous per se. I thought maybe you’d rather have some time alone.”

  “I’m happy for Akako and Aggie. And I love Renee. You know that.” Emma and Becky had been named as Renee’s godmothers and while there hadn’t been a formal baptism or christening, they had held an informal party to celebrate this shortly after Renee’s birth. “Is this really why you came all the way down here?”

  “Yes. I’m worried about you. It’s been two years and your hair still hasn’t changed back. And—” Becky stopped herself with a sigh.

  “And what?”

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try me.”

  “You’re so damned cool about it. Maybe it’s because of all that therapy. When was the last time you cried for her?”

  “I don’t like the implication of what you’re saying.”

  “There you go again. You say that but you don’t raise your voice. Your cheeks don’t even turn redder. It’s like you’re a goddamned robot.”

  “What do you want me to do: wail, gnash my teeth, rent my clothes? Go around in sackcloth and ashes?”

  “I don’t know. I’d like to know what they did to you in that psych ward.”

  “They didn’t do anything to me.”

  “Could you at least tell me what you’re thinking? I can’t tell anymore.”

  Emma went around the desk to put a hand on Becky’s shoulder. “You’ve been a good friend to me all through this. I appreciate your concerns, but I need to handle this in my own way.”

  “I’m worried you’re becoming someone else. Someone I don’t really know.”

  “You’re still my best friend, Becky. You always will be, no matter what color my hair is.”

  This brought a smile to Becky’s face. “I am starting to get used to it. And it’s kind of nice for people to think I’m the younger one for a change.” Becky’s smile faded as she looked Emma in the eye. “You’re really sure you want to go tonight? You don’t have to.”

  “I’m sure. I want to be there for Renee.”

  “All right, if that’s what you really want.” Becky checked her watch. “I’d better get to the office. Can you let Megan know I’ll pick her up at six?”

  “Sure.”

  “Do you want a ride too?”

  “I can make it on my own. I’ll have some work to do afterwards.”

  “Emma—”

  “I made a promise, Becky. I intend to keep it.”

  Becky stared at her for a moment and then nodded. “I’ll see you at Aggie’s then.”

  “See you tonight.”

  After Becky was gone, Emma turned in her chair to face the windows. There wasn’t that much of a view, as like most suburbs Westfield didn’t have any buildings more than five stories tall. In the distance she saw Robinson Tower and the rest of the Rampart City skyline. When she turned her gaze downward, she saw Becky walking slowly down the sidewalk, back to the parking garage. She looked up for a moment and then continued to walk.

  Emma turned and went back to work.

  ***

  When Akako first found out she was pregnant, when Aggie began the slow and rather painful transition from a man back to a woman, they discussed where Renee should grow up. Despite Aggie’s insistence that vanishing and magic carpets were perfectly safe for an infant, Akako decided their daughter should not be raised in the archives. “What kind of life can she have growing up in a cave?” Akako had asked.

  Ultimately Aggie had conceded the point, though she doubted Renee would ever have what anyone considered a “normal” life. A child who was raised by two women, who was half-white and half-Asian, and who was half-witch to boot could never hope to be “normal” by any definition. For this reason Aggie had been reluctant to even consider the idea until she’d talked with Emma, who thanks to a spell in the archives had gone into the future and seen the nearly-adult Renee. Emma claimed Renee would struggle, but in the end she would find her way.

  To convince Akako of this had taken some time. Especially after Louise died, Akako didn’t feel the time was right for them to have a child. “It would seem like we’re trying to replace her.” In the end Emma had gone to the archives and had a chat with Akako to give her blessing. A month later, after the gender confusion potion Aggie drank took full effect, they conceived Renee in Akako’s quarters in the archives.

  Once Akako knew she was pregnant and they knew Renee would grow up in Rampart City, the next question became what Akako would do. This required meeting with Glenda, the head of the coven, who was technically Akako’s employer, though the archivist position didn’t pay anything or offer any sort of traditional benefits like a health plan or 401K.

  As was typical with Glenda, the meeting took place in a pub in Dublin. In a corner booth, Glenda and Aggie—still with a patchy beard and child-sized male genitalia—drank beers while Akako drank cranberry juice. “You’ve really done it this time, Agnes,” Glenda said. “I don’t know how much longer I can protect you.”

  “I don’t need your protection,” Aggie said. Her voice cracked to deflate the defiance in this statement.

  “You could be expelled for this. We could have your powers revoked.”

  “You could.”

  “I don’t want it to come to that.”

  “Then don’t let it. Akako, Renee, and I will be fine without your interference.”

  “You’ve already named it?”

  “Her name is Renee, yes. She’s going to be a beautiful girl.”

  “She’s going to be a freak,” Glenda said.

  “All that matters is that we will love her,” Akako said. “With or without your permission.”

  “So I take it you’re going through with this abomination? There’s still plenty of time to get rid of the creature.”

  “We’re not getting rid of anything,” Aggie said. She wished again she didn’t look like a thirteen-year-old boy at the moment to give her voice and glare a little more effect. Not that it would really work on a three-thousand-year-old witch in any case. “We came here to discuss Akako taking a leave of absence.”

  “For how long?”

  “At least a year. Maybe two.”

  “That long?”

  “I could come back a few times a month, once Renee has stopped breast feeding,” Akako said. “Most everything is on the computers now anyway. No reason one of you couldn’t run that for a little while.”

  “What about if someone needs something in the vault? You know how dangerous that can be,” Glenda said. Aggie and Akako both knew this well enough; they had seen and experienced it for themselves already. A rogue spell from the archives had transported them to an alternate dimension, where Akako had become a little girl named Renee, for whom their child was named.

  “That hardly ever happens.” Akako had printed out a sheet of statistics to back this up. Glenda, never one to be interested in numbers, waved her hand dismissively. “I think you get the idea. And if you really need something, it only takes a few hours for me to get there by carpet.”

  “Maybe we should find another one of you. There’s enough of them around.”

  “You’d have to tear a hole in space-time. It’s not easy,” Akako said. Such a hole was how she had wound up in this universe from an alternate dimension in the first place.

  Quantum physics were another area where Glenda had little interest. “Whatever. You can have as much time as you want, so long as you make sure the child does not find out about magic or the coven. Is that understood?”

  “She’s bound to find out when she’s old enough,” Aggie said. Emma had told her that Renee would have magical abilities of her own, just not like those of the rest of the coven.

  “Until then, keep it under your hat. Both of you.”

  That was the deal they’d struck and when she saw how happy Akako looked as she carried Renee downsta
irs for the party, Aggie didn’t feel an ounce of regret. At the foot of the steps, Akako turned Renee to face her. The child looked the way Emma had described her, with Aggie’s pale skin and blue eyes, though the latter had Akako’s Asian shape to them. She had already outgrown the clothes Aggie had sewn for her, both in height and girth. Akako stroked the little girl’s tuft of brown hair and said, “Are you ready to see Mommy and Daddy’s friends?”

  Aggie doubted Renee understood the question, but she said, “Yes.” Two months ago she had blurted out her first word: Mama. Appropriately she applied this to Akako, while Aggie she referred to as Agga. Despite that she’d learned more words like “Yes,” “No,” and “Hungy” for hungry, she still did not say Aggie’s name properly. Sometimes this bothered Aggie, who remembered her three sons had called her Mama, but at times like this she didn’t mind.

  Renee seemed perfectly relaxed and happy, at least until they entered the dining room, where everyone had gathered. It was a small gathering, just the extended family of Emma, Rebecca, Megan Putnam, and Dan Dreyfus. The latter two’s presence necessitated Glenda and the rest of the witches not show up, as if they would want to. The way Renee whimpered and buried her head into Akako’s shoulder, someone might think the girl feared one of the guests would try to kill her.

  “It’s all right, sweetie,” Akako said. “No one’s going to hurt you. These are your friends. We saw them not so long ago in the park, remember?”

  At moments like these, Aggie wasn’t sure what to do. She had been the mother to her children, the one they ran to when they were afraid. Despite being well over five hundred years old, she had never been a father before. She decided to let Akako handle the situation. “She’s feeling shy,” Aggie said while Akako rocked and cooed to the baby. “I’ll go in the kitchen and get the cake.” On the way to the kitchen, she took Emma’s arm and asked her to help with the plates and ice cream.

  By outward appearances, Emma seemed to be fine. She had been socializing as much as she ever did; she’d talked with Megan about her forthcoming graduation and with Dan about museum business. Aggie didn’t need to be a witch to sense the turmoil going on inside of her, especially when she saw Akako come into the room with Renee. For a moment Emma’s icy resolve had melted and some warmth entered her eyes. Then, as if she knew Aggie saw her, she snuffed it out.

  “How are you holding up, dear?” Aggie asked as she lit the single candle on the cake.

  “I’m fine. Why does everyone keep asking me about it?”

  “Because we’re your friends.”

  “I know that, but it’s been two years almost. Maybe you all should stop worrying that I’m going to fall to pieces.”

  “You know Rebecca won’t ever stop worrying about you.”

  Emma smiled as she took the ice cream out of the freezer. “No, I suppose not. How long is it going to take to convince her that I’m dealing with this?”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes. Dr. Richman says I’ve made a lot of progress.”

  “That’s good, dear. I’m proud of you.” Aggie sighed as she picked up the cake to take out to her daughter. “I remember when you and Rebecca first came here ten years ago. You were both so young back then.”

  “We were all different back then.” Emma nodded to the cake. “You used to be the one with the white hair.”

  “Yes, so many things have changed.” Aggie let Emma go first with the plates and ice cream; she followed her out with the cake. She stood in the doorway for a moment to take in the scene. There were her new friends Megan and Dan. Across from them were Emma and Becky, who had become like her daughters and who had become so grown up since that first visit ten years ago for a dress. Then at the head of the table was her real daughter, Renee, in her high chair as she played a game of patty cake with her mother—Aggie’s wife. She had gained so much in the last ten years, a whole new family. She felt a twinge of sadness to think of Sylvia, her little sister who had died almost three years ago now.

  The front doorbell rang, which almost caused Aggie to drop the cake. “That’s probably Amanda,” Megan said. “I’ll go—”

  “No, dear, I’ll get it,” Aggie said. She set the cake down in front of Renee, who was still engrossed with her game with Akako. “I’m already up. Just don’t let her blow out the candle until I get back.”

  Aggie hurried to the door; she had a feeling this was not Megan’s friend Amanda and that the person at the door did not bring good news. Her suspicions were proven right. At the door was a young woman who looked so much like Sylvia with her dark red hair, green eyes, and almost permanent scowl. At the moment one of those eyes was swollen shut and blood nearly the same color as her hair was matted into her scalp from a gash that ran across her forehead.

  When Cecelia Romeau, Sylvia’s illegitimate daughter, opened her mouth to speak, Aggie saw the girl’s front teeth were missing. “Hello Aunt Agnes. I need your help.”

  Then Cecelia collapsed into Aggie’s arms.

  Chapter 2

  Ever since her promotion to captain almost five years ago, Lottie Donovan had tried to quit smoking. She’d used gum for a while, first the nicotine kind and then mint Trident gum. The habit seemed to be under control, the cravings reduced to when she only hankered for a cigarette when under extreme stress.

  The problem was that for the last two years, every day put her under extreme stress. It was all due to one so-called “hero” who until that time had been relatively under control. There had been the occasional problem like when someone pegged the Heartbreaker Killings on her or when a bunch of animals were let out of the zoo and she was caught on one of the elephants. Donovan had convinced herself that these minor inconveniences were worth it for all the good work the Scarlet Knight did to curtail Don Vendetta’s ambitions. While Vendetta was still on the loose, her influence had somewhat lessened and, more importantly, the vigilante’s presence kept other bad elements out of Rampart City.

  That Scarlet Knight had been around for seven years. She beat up petty criminals and left them for the department to deal with while she heeded Donovan’s advice to be more careful with the big fish. The high rollers like Don Vendetta could afford the kind of attorneys the petty foot soldiers couldn’t, which meant if some costumed hero came in to tie them up and drop them at department headquarters, they would walk, probably without even getting to the grand jury phase. The Scarlet Knight had worked with her to try to get information on Vendetta to put her away legally, which they’d thought they’d done once before only for the don to slither away when someone destroyed the evidence.

  That Scarlet Knight had never been Donovan’s friend—Donovan had no friends since her friend Lois Early died in the Heartbreaker Killings—but she had at least been an ally. This new one, on the other hand, had only made Donovan’s life miserable. She didn’t seem to give a shit about evidential procedure; she simply beat and tied up anyone who got in her way. Then came that business on the docks, where she’d burned down a block of warehouses—supposedly by accident. The previous Scarlet Knight would have apologized for this destruction of property. The new one only said, “They weren’t being used for anything legal anyway.”

  Whenever Donovan asked her to cool it, this new Scarlet Knight would say without fail, “I made a promise.”

  “What promise? To who?” Donovan asked repeatedly but received no answer.

  This new “hero” also didn’t seem to care how much heat she brought down on Donovan. After the zoo fiasco, the city council had formed an Anti-Vigilante Task Force that was of course stocked with Don Vendetta’s cronies. The task force had gotten to a number of beat cops, right on up to Donovan’s aide Lieutenant Cielo, to turn them into snitches. The more the Scarlet Knight took it to the don’s organization, the more pressure the task force put on her, to the point where she was essentially a fugitive from her own department.

  For that reason, Donovan had started to smoke again. The smoke breaks gave her an excuse to get out of the building, where sh
e could contact the anonymous Email address she used to reach the Scarlet Knight, an address that changed frequently as she could no longer be certain her phone wasn’t tapped. More importantly, the nicotine soothed her jangled nerves. It wouldn’t be much longer until she would have to move on to something stronger, something prescription—or maybe something illegal. She’d seen plenty of cops give in to the temptation of using the dope they impounded; now she could see why.

  Donovan checked her watch and then sat down on a seesaw. Over the last two years they’d constantly changed meeting places as well as Email addresses. Now they were down to meeting at the playground at Wagner Elementary. Even then she’d had to make three U-turns, ditch her car, take two buses, and finally the subway to lose any tails.

  She sighed as she lit another cigarette, her third so far since she’d arrived forty-five minutes ago. The other, kindler, gentler Scarlet Knight had also been unfailingly punctual. Donovan never realized how much she missed that woman until the new model showed up two years ago.

  “I thought you quit,” the Scarlet Knight hissed. Her voice sounded nearly the same, but there was something harsher about it.

  “Yeah, well, thanks to you I started up again. I hope you’re happy.”

  “I didn’t put any cigarettes in your mouth.”

  “You might as well have with all you put me through.” Donovan leaped to her feet and stomped over to where the Scarlet Knight leaned against the monkey bars. In many ways this new one looked the same, with the same tall, rangy body. The red hair was gone; this one didn’t display any hair at all. Then of course was her sloppy posture, lack of punctuality, and generally combative nature.

  “What I do wouldn’t be necessary if you people did your job.”

  “What you do isn’t any better than what any of her thugs do. Three-quarters of the guys you bust are so broken up they need about six months in traction before we can get them in jail. Some of them are lucky to be able to walk yet.”

  “They’re still alive. They should be thankful for that.”

  “Why don’t you go tell that to their families sometime.” Donovan threw her cigarette to the ground at the Scarlet Knight’s feet. “I’m the one who gets the complaints from the chief and the commissioner and the mayor. I’m the one whose phones they’ve bugged and who they’ve got snitches following around like lost puppies.”