Twig

by wildbow

  He stepped away from the wall, looking as if he’d walk out of the alley and into the main street, then turned around, his back resting against the same wall that Nora was standing by. He slouched as he came to rest there, toes off the ground, heels firmly set. With the angle he was positioned at, his eyes were on a level with hers.

  He still didn’t make eye contact. He was the least threatening threat she’d had to handle in recent memory.

  “Hello, Nora,” he said.

  She remained silent.

  He leaned forward, looking past Nora to the taller, red-haired woman. “Hello Lacey.”

  “I should have known,” Lacey said. “Can’t have a quiet conversation.”

  “Sorry to intrude,” he said. “I don’t know how many opportunities I’ll have to actually check in and talk to people, so I take the opportunities that arise.”

  “Are you going to treat me like you did Duncan?” Lacey asked.

  “No,” Sylvester said. He craned his head to look out of the alley and look in the direction the girls had gone. “If anything, I wanted to apologize.”

  “Apologize?”

  “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

  “Changing subjects, to keep me off balance?” Lacey asked.

  “Maybe that’s a bad habit of mine. But this very moment, I’m watching Mary and Lillian as they approach the building. I was watching Helen earlier. Their skirts and dresses, the way they move, the dance… do you know what I mean if I talk about the dance?”

  “No,” Lacey said. “I’m sure you’ll tell us.”

  “What’s the dance?” Nora asked.

  “When you know people and have worked with people for so very long that you know how they move, where they’ll go, what they’ll do. You move in concert. It’s like three people on a dance floor. There’s a beauty in it. Then you have three beautiful girls carrying that out…”

  He craned his head some more.

  “I’m kind of captivated,” he said. He laughed, very briefly. “I might actually be in trouble, if I get this mesmerized when they’re actually coming after me.”

  “Let’s hope,” Lacey said, dryly.

  Sylvester turned, abruptly, and Nora jumped, stepping back. Lacey put hands on her upper arms, stopping her from bumping into her.

  “Sorry,” Sylvester said. “Got distracted, forgot I didn’t want to spook you, Nora.”

  Nora didn’t speak or move in response.

  “Okay. Lacey. I’m very aware of the venom in your words. Fitting, given your field of specialty. But I did want to say sorry. I handled things badly. I’ve had time to think. We left it on a bad note.”

  “Just because you’re apologizing doesn’t mean I have to forgive,” Lacey said.

  “Very true. But remember, forgiving me would be for you, not for me. It’s about not letting things burden you or get to you. And you can forgive me without saying that what I did was okay. I sabotaged your career and made things very difficult for you a number of times, for my own sake, because of my own perspective. You could have ridden the Wyvern project to a place of some prominence and instead I selfishly kicked you off it. Now that I’m seeing things from another perspective, and I’m having to value the support I do have, instead of having support from all corners, with the Academy… I regret pushing you away. I know you could have been one of the half-decent doctors.”

  “Please don’t try to manipulate forgiveness out of me,” Lacey said, unmoved.

  “That—” Sylvester started. He stopped, then leaned against the wall. “—Wasn’t what I was doing. But okay.”

  “Okay,” Lacey echoed him.

  “I’m glad the girls are enjoying themselves, going after the Devil,” Sylvester said. “I’m glad I get to watch as they do it.”

  “You were supposed to be watching over the others,” Lacey accused.

  “They’re a bit… tied up at the moment. And I have other eyes.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “I’m not worried,” Sylvester said, smiling. “I’m fascinated, though, by the fact that the girls are doing things so roundabout. I thought they’d go right for the head of the snake, or go right for me. But they’re doing things surgically, going after the Devil’s peripheral groups, lieutenants, and holdings. Is that because they don’t have the numbers to barrel through, or is it Lil’s influence?”

  “No comment,” Lacey said.

  “Of course,” Sylvester said.

  —Coming coming coming.—Lara signaled.

  Nora closed her eyes, as if she could avoid being here altogether. She trembled a bit between Lacey’s reassuring hands.

  “Nora,” Sylvester said.

  “How do you know my name?”

  “I’ve been watching pretty much all the time. One group or the other. Binoculars and lip reading go a long way. I got your name, but I’m… somewhat stumped about how you and Lara work. I thought it was a subtler sort of messenger bird? A hive inside your body, you send her a messenger bug with encoded messages? But it’s faster than that.”

  She set her jaw.

  He smiled, still not looking directly at her, but at her shoulder, at her sleeve, then the ground between them.

  He dropped down to a crouch, still holding the canister. Sitting on his ankles, he waddled closer to her, closing the distance.

  She shrank back against Lacey’s side, but when Lacey didn’t budge she had nowhere to go.

  Slowly, Sylvester reached out, and took hold of the very end of the sleeve.

  Did he know? That that was something her creators and Helen and Mary and Lillian did, at times, that reassured her, let her know they were there? Did he understand that?

  “I wish I got to be there when they invited you to the group. That we could have been friends,” he said. “Not just you, but Lara, Emmett, and Abby. I would have liked to bring out the strong, beautiful parts of you and gotten to the point where we could have danced.”

  She remained silent.

  Lillian and Mary had been very firm about the fact that if she ever heard him talk, she should not believe a word he said.

  But she almost believed him, even as she strained to bury his words under doubt and fear.

  “But that’s the joke, isn’t it?” he asked. “If I’m on the team, you wouldn’t be. If Evette was on the team, I wouldn’t have been brought over. I’d be Lacey’s stress-testing experiment for a study drug that would be discarded when they were done with me.”

  “You’re on Wyvern right now,” Lacey observed.

  Nora turned her head, looking up at the woman, then back at Sylvester.

  “I had an ‘appointment’ shortly after I saw Duncan’s group turn up,” he said. “I needed to make some last minute adjustments, and I wanted to be at my best.”

  “Thought so,” Lacey said.

  Sylvester let go of Nora’s sleeve. He rested his arms on his knees, as he crouched on the spot, low to the ground, relatively still.

  “One of the three great tragedies we all have to deal with,” he said. “That we couldn’t all be together. Evette, Ashton, Gordon, Jamie, Helen, Mary, the new Lambs…”

  He sighed.

  “My condolences about Jamie,” Lacey said.

  Sylvester startled at that. He looked at her.

  “Both times.”

  Nora looked up at Lacey. For someone offering condolences, her face was very still.

  “Yeah,” Sylvester said. “Thank you.”

  “Can I ask? What are you up to, Sylvester?” Lacey asked. “I know you won’t give me a straight answer, but a part of me hopes you’d feel you owed me an answer.”

  “I might. You mean here, right now? In general? In the bigger picture?”

  “I’ll settle for any answers you’ll give me.”

  “Right here, I’m enjoying the company of the Lambs the only way I can. Teasing, sticking to the shadows, watching, visiting when I’m sure I won’t get a knife in the back. I’ll let them, let you get close and then I’ll scur
ry away. If it all works out, I hopefully leave you with little rewards and tidbits that will make the Lambs look good even while I escape successfully every time.”

  Nora transmitted the message.

  “You’re actually answering,” Lacey said.

  “There’s more to it, but saying more would be telling,” he said. He winked. “Uh, I forgot the questions you asked. What I’m doing right now…”

  “And in general?”

  “Living. Enjoying life. Missing people dear to me. Trying to protect children.”

  “By giving a lunatic reason to hunt them down?”

  “I’m a complicated lad of complicated means,” Sylvester said. He grinned.

  Nora looked up. Lacey wasn’t smiling.

  The grin slipped off his face. “This is a wake up call. It reminds people that the children need protecting. That the future needs protecting. It’ll serve as a scare, and force certain people’s hands. Already, the Devil’s old alliances are breaking down, people are questioning if he’s really an evil they can tolerate just because he’s the evil they know. When and if the Lambs execute him, people in power will be more careful about what they allow to happen. If the Lambs don’t, I might, depending.”

  Nora continued transcribing. The only real disadvantage was that while she was doing it and Lara was telling the others, there was no way for Lara to communicate to her.

  Lacey spoke, “And in the big picture? You threatened that you were doing something big.”

  “I did,” Sylvester said.

  “Would it be telling if you shared any hints?”

  “Yes, but I’ll tell you anyway. In the Lamb’s first meeting with Fray, she challenged me. She asked me what drove me, what my core goal was. It was belief. Belief that there’s a better future. A way out of the trap we’re in.”

  For the first time, he made direct eye contact with Nora. His eyes were very green, his eyelashes long and dark.

  He continued, “And I still want that. I still believe the Lambs might play a role. And I actually have a way to do it. If I fail, I intend to be the only one that goes down in flames. If I succeed, I want to pull the Lambs up with me.”

  “We’re not Lambs,” Nora said.

  “Shh,” Lacey said, abrupt, as if she could shush Nora fast enough to cut her off, when the words had already left her lips.

  “I know,” Sylvester says. “I can see that, just from the way you’re put together. Gordon, Helen and I, followed soon by Jamie, we meshed on a level almost right away. I don’t see that. And I caught some snippets of conversation and I put the pieces together. Maybe you’re stronger as individuals. Or as a pair, in you and Lara’s case, I don’t know. But, so long as I’m given a choice, I intend to raise you newcomers up, not push you down. And, just to ensure that you and the Lambs aren’t kept confined, I’ll let slip a detail, and you can tell the Academy you discovered it when I didn’t want you to.”

  “Sounds too good to be true,” Lacey said.

  “I’m a jerk like that,” Sylvester said. “Mauer’s killing nobles. I’ve heard rumors, some were being actively suppressed when I heard. Now the nobles are readying for a move against Mauer. I fully intend to get involved.”

  “Could be a red herring,” Lacey said.

  “Could be. Tell them. They’ll decide,” Sylvester said. He straightened. “Which reminds me. I’ve got a nasty habit of losing track of time, and they’re due back soon. And I can’t be sure where Duncan is, now.”

  Nora transmitted the last of the transcription.

  He walked past Nora and Lacey, deeper into the alley, turning so he wouldn’t have his back to either of them at any point in time. He walked backward for the latter half of the trip, before rounding a corner. He tossed the gas canister behind him, and the gas billowed out, protecting his retreat.

  -Close.—Lara communicated.

  But it was too late.

  Lacey led Nora out of the now-hazardous alleyway and into the street, pulling up Nora’s hood and putting it back in place as she did so. Nora looked in the direction that the message had come from, and saw the others approaching at a run.

  I’m not as scared as I was, she communicated the thought aloud.

  -Why?—the question came. -How? I’d be so scared, in your shoes.—

  She couldn’t articulate an answer in the minute or so it took the group to run down the length of the street and reach them.

  Lara, the one individual in the whole world who didn’t scare Nora at least a little, ran into her full-force, wrapping sleeve-clad arms around Nora. Nora gripped her sister just as hard.

  “What happened?” Duncan asked. “Did he slip away?”

  As Lacey began to explain, turning her head to note that the three girls were joining the greater group, Nora turned her full focus to her sister.

  “You’re shorter than me, you know, you depressing little abortion,” she whispered to Lara, gripping her tighter.

  “By two centimeters, you cockroach. And you snort fresh rat poops,” Lara whispered back.

  The two laughed in their own way, inaudible to the others.

  Previous Next

  Black Sheep—13.7

  Five years of preparatory schooling with tutoring twice-weekly that started when she was four, ensuring that she knew most of Wollstone’s ratios by heart before she even entered school. Four years of preliminary Academy studies at Dame Cicely’s sister school, coinciding with work as a lab assistant so she could get lab space and work on her admissions project. She’d left all of her acquaintances behind as they’d either failed out or gone on to Dame Cicely’s and she’d tested for and earned her place in Radham, which was more reputable.

  Four rigorous years at Radham, followed by examinations and testing, the same ones that Lillian and Duncan were working their way through now. She had created her Paddock as part of her testing, and fought viciously for sought-after lab space to make, grow, and raise the toadlike, self-destructing warbeast. She had failed on her first attempt, and she had very nearly quit, before summoning up the scraps of her dignity and courage to push forward for one more year.

  She had cried tears of very mixed emotions at the end of the second year, when Academy grunts had knocked on the door to her lab and enlisted her help in crating up Paddock and Paddock’s first litter. The tears of sadness were because Paddock had been a constant companion for two lonely, frustrating years, and he was being shipped off on a wagon to kill and to die on a strange battlefield. The tears of joy were because the Academy’s acceptance of her project was virtually guaranteed to be her sought after white coat.

  It was.

  A white coat with Radham’s coat of arms on the breast guaranteed her future. Radham was among the top ten schools in the Crown States, its students consequently among the top ten percent of those available in the Crown States, and only a small fraction of those actually saw it through and graduated. With that coat, she could have picked any city in the Crown States to live in and found a place there, earning the most comfortable wage that that city could afford to pay her. She might have run her own clinic or served as a science officer in a military base, and people would have tipped their hats to her and called her ma’am out of respect for what that coat represented.

  But it didn’t really work that way, did it?

  There might have been people who got their white coats and didn’t care about advancing, but those students didn’t attend Radham. They weren’t teased by rumors and by their witnessing of Radham’s greater projects and advancements. Even as they stood among the top five percent of the doctors in the Crown States, they were made to feel small, and they were made to feel hungry. Like all of her graduating peers, she had seen the coveted specialist’s gray coat as a stepping stone, not a goal.

  She had played the political game, used what she’d learned in Kensford among the backstabbing aspirant Dames to sabotage rivals, she had worked to pay for her apartment, found a boyfriend that would complement her image, and attended special c
lasses. She had worked as a research assistant, studying Wyvern, and then one of the professors that had taught a specialist class had called her in to a special meeting. She’d earned a mentor, the space, and the leeway to work on a notable project. In doing so, she’d drawn attention and become the target of countless small and large sabotage attempts.

  Nevermind that her own damn project had been sabotaging her. That had been the breaking point. There was more to it, but she’d seen disaster looming and had decided to cut her losses. Professor Hayle had agreed.

  From the time that she was four until the time she was twenty-seven, she’d worked so damn hard. When she looked in the mirror, she could see faint hints of exhaustion etched around her eyes, which never went away, no matter how much she slept, how well she ate, or how many days she took to enjoy peace and quiet while working in her lab. She was approaching thirty and her youth was behind her.

  For what? Was she a glorified babysitter? The only reason she made it a question in her own head was that ‘glorified’ might have been too generous and lofty a descriptor.

  Nora, with Lara chiming in, was giving a recap of the conversation with Sy to Lillian, Mary, and Helen.

  They had moved more toward the city center and found refuge in a covered bridge. To listen in, Sylvester would either have to crawl along the underside of the bridge and press his ear to the underside, or move along the tin roof and cook alive there. He couldn’t approach or stand at the ends of the bridge without being spotted, and wouldn’t be in earshot there.

  The shade was nice, and the space was cool in the moments the wind blew in one end and out the other, but it was stifling otherwise.

  “Um, then said he’s enjoying the company of the Lambs the only way he could? He’s teasing, lurking, watching, then shows up.”

  “When he thinks he won’t get attacked,” Lara said, before adding under her breath, “Gnatwit.”

  “Yeah. That,” Nora said. “What the runt said. Then he said he’d let us get close and then run. And if we play along enough, he’ll give us something we can give to the people in charge, so the Lambs look good.”