8FOLD: Mancers # 10, "Tea Leaves"

[Tom Russell]

Among us walk the MANCERS - humans gifted with mystical power by dread
Venus! Some serve the elder gods, and conspire to give them dominion
over mankind! Others fight in rebellion against Venus, seeking to end
magic itself! And in this midnight war - fought by spies and assassins
with secrets and mysteries - the fate of the Earth shall be decided!

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#     # NUMBER 10 - "TEA LEAVES" [8F-195][PW-40]

-------------DRAMATIS PERSONAE-------------

     MEMBERS OF THE SECRET CIRCLE
A band of mancers opposing the gods of Venus.

MAILE AKAKA, age 20. Aeromancer.
Once the top field agent of The Company, she was abducted and
memory-wiped by the circle. She knows that this is the case and is
serving as their leader, but does not know that she defected
intentionally.

LIEKE VAN RIJN, age 27. Doppelmancer.
Split into two autonomous bodies, madly in love with each other. Her
other half went dark, leaving this Lieke alone and desolated.

JUNE LASH, age 47. Ailuromancer.
Gourmet chef and spymaster, commanding dozens of feline agents around the globe.

TREVOR JEFFRIES, age 23? Robot head.
Thought to be a mekhanomancer, recently revealed to be a Company robot
constructed by Cradle Tech.

DAVID COLLINS, age 31. Mnemonomancer.
Married to Beth Collins, brother of Claire Belden. Recently finished a
deep undercover assignment - so deep that even he didn't realize it -
working for The Company. Presumed dead, he now has possession of the
ancient blade Thirteen, and has access to the memories of his
ancestors.

AZABETH "BETH" COLLINS, age 37. Oneiromancer.
Comatose wife of David Collins, communicating with the others only
through dreams and signs.

SARAH AVERY, age 25. Evocamancer.
Reluctantly allied with the secret circle, and even more reluctant to
use her demon-summoning magic, preferring to serve as an engineer.


     EMPLOYEES OF THE COMPANY
A shadow conglomerate in the service of dread Venus.

CLAIRE BELDEN, age 31. Metamancer.
Having framed and murdered her former boss and lover Lydia Black,
Claire is now the head of Human Resources for The Company. From
within, she pursues her own agenda, aiding the circle and The Company
in equal measure to maintain a mystical stalemate between the two
sides. Sister of David Collins, responsible for both his escape and
Maile's defection.

TRINITY "TRINI" TRAN, age 35. Haematomancer.
A fugitive, reluctantly working for The Company in return for their
protection, and allied with Claire, who she thinks is working for the
circle. She carries David Collins's child, and is now rooming with
(and keeping an eye on) the mind-wiped "Angel".

ANGEL, age 27. Doppelmancer.
The other Lieke van Rijn, amnesiac, depowered, and consumed by a
desperate emptiness. Held captive by The Company.

------------------------------------------


Maile holds Lieke's arm by the wrist with one hand, and with the other
runs her fingertips over its smooth, unblemished flesh. "Gone, just
like the burn."
   "Yes," says Lieke. "I took a photo."
   Lieke digs out her phone. The lock screen has a picture of the two
Liekes together. It's hard to tell which of them looks happier. Lieke
unlocks her phone and brings up the photo.
   It's a grisly sight, the letters carved into her arm. The cuts are
fresh and there's enough blood that it's hard to make it out.
   Maile hands the phone back to her. "And the last word, you didn't write it?"
   "You don't believe me?" says Lieke. It's almost a challenge.
   "I believe you," says Maile. "There's enough weird magical nonsense
in our lives that I'm not going to cock my eyebrow when there's weird
magical nonsense."
   "It's not nonsense," says Lieke. "It's me. The other me."
   "And I believe you. Honestly, that's the most reasonable
explanation. Nothing like this has happened before, but, you've never
been apart like this before, right?"
   "Right."
   "I don't know if the healing is part of it," says Maile. "That
doesn't seem consistent with anything you've told me before, or
anything I've seen in, uh, Marcus's notes."
   Lieke flinches reflexively. The Liekes were closer to Marcus than
the rest of them, and whenever Maile and this Lieke seem to be making
some kind of headway, the ghost of the man Maile doesn't remember
killing appears. He was pretty much the circle's big brain and point
of reference for all things arcane, and the Maile who is supposed to
be leading the circle feels his absence acutely. She wonders if that's
why the Maile who ran with The Company chose Marcus as her target.
   Maile moves on; nothing to gain by dwelling on it. "We need to find
a better way for the two of you to talk to each other. Preferably one
that won't make a mess of June's kitchen."

Every time Trini moves, she leaves more behind. The first time, she
had transplanted everything she owned from her parents' home to her
apartment. The second time - after the hospital, in the frantic hour
and a half before the police could figure out who she was and what she
had done - she only had the time to pack a few boxes. She hadn't
bothered with clothes (Claire had said there'd be money for that sort
of thing), concentrating instead on books and mementos. Over the last
few months, there have been so many times when she wished she had
remembered to grab this thing or that, or regretted choosing one thing
over the other; there's so much she would have done differently if
only she had the time.
   Now? She has the time - Claire gave her the luxury of an entire
night to prepare - but she doesn't really have the inclination. Most
of the things in the apartment are things she bought in the last
handful of months, but none of them feel like they belong to her. Even
the things that she had brought with her from her previous life don't
feel like hers anymore, don't feel important anymore - not the books,
not the photographs. Instead of struggling to cram it all into a few
boxes, it's a matter of trying to fill them.
   Angel's not much help there; she has even less to call her own than
Trini does.
   "Is she a nice person?" asks Angel. "Your boss?"
   "No," says Trini flatly after a moment's reflection. "None of them
are nice people." When Angel first moved in, Trini had tried briefly -
very briefly - to maintain the pretense that The Company was
benevolent, and that she was working for them of her own free will.
But she felt sorry enough for Angel, and bitter enough about David,
that she spilled the beans after the slightest push.
   "But do you trust her?"
   "Lord, no," says Trini. She hasn't told Angel that Claire is a
double agent, mostly because she doesn't know who or what might be
listening. "But she's moving us to keep you safe, so I guess that
counts for something. All I'm saying is you should keep on your toes,
don't let your guard down."
   Suddenly, Angel sucks her teeth, wincing.
   "What is it?" says Trini.
   "My arm hurts." She grabs her sleeve and starts rolling it back.
   Trini braces herself, fully expecting another bloody mess to clean
up, huge ugly jagged letters carved into Angel's flesh. But that's not
the case this time around. In fact, at first she doesn't notice it at
all.

"A tattoo," says Claire, holding Angel's arm by the wrist.
   "It started about an hour ago," says Trini. "Twenty minutes ago it finished."
   "I miss you," reads Claire. "Are you safe? Please write me back."
   "I'd like to," says Angel softly.
   "If this is the same person that wrote you before, they've
definitely improved their penmanship. Is it the same person?"
   "How would she know?" says Trini.
   "I wasn't asking you, Trini," says Claire impatiently. "Angel?"
   "I think so," says Angel. "It felt the same."
   "That doesn't mean that we can trust them," says Trini.
   "No," agrees Claire, "that doesn't mean that we can. Likely it's a
member of the circle trying to make contact."
   "Why would they do that?" says Trini. "I thought the circle wiped
her memory."
   "Maybe they did," says Claire, "or maybe my predecessor had it
done." She pauses, and for a moment Trini thinks Claire is going to
apologize to Angel for what's been done to her. But no. "If the circle
doesn't know what's happened, we might be able to use this to our
advantage."
   "Do I get a say in the matter?" says Angel.
   There's a sound that comes out of Claire that Trini doesn't
recognize at first: laughter.
   "Why, my dear girl, of course you don't," says Claire. "But you'll
see that it's to your advantage, as well. If we can get information
from them, it might help us figure out who you really are."
   "I can just ask," says Angel.
   Claire turns her gaze toward Trini, raising an eyebrow. Trini
realizes that she's not so much soliciting Trini's opinion as testing
her.
   "If we tell them that you're wiped, they'll know that you're
compromised. Then they won't give us anything useful."
   Angel hesitates. Trini gets the impression that if Claire wasn't in
the room with them, Angel would say something along the lines of, she
didn't see that as a problem; why help The Company?
   "And they'd likely stop trying to talk to you," Trini adds.
   Angel stares at the tiny letters on her arm like they're the most
important things in the world. Like they're the only things that
matter. "Okay," she says finally. "So, do we go to a tattoo parlor or
something?"
   "Not necessary," says Claire. "Trini knows how to do it."
   "Uh, no I don't," says Trini.
   Claire grabs her by the hair and mashes her mouth against Trini's.
The taste is sweet at first, too sweet, but then something bitter and
cold slithers down her throat. "There. Now you know."
   And it's true; now she does. Trini would protest, but she knows
better than to expect Claire to respect boundaries.
   "There will be equipment waiting for you at the safe house."
   "So," says Angel, "what do we write back?"
   "Well, they asked if you were safe," says Claire. "Which you're not."
   There's something slightly off in Claire's voice, like she's
feeding Trini a line - a subtle reminder that they're playing to an
invisible and eldritch audience. "But if we say that you are," Trini
pretends to counter, "that'll just raise more questions, like, why
haven't you reached out to them, why haven't you returned? I think
it's better that we tell them that she's in our custody."
   "But then they know that we're watching," says Claire. "Then they
just clam up. Unless we go full cloak and dagger. Secret messages.
Protocols."
   "Protocols?" says Angel.
   Trini explains it. "Like, they can only write to you at certain
times. You'll respond and once they acknowledge receipt, I'll heal up
your arm, which, if I'm following all this, means that they get healed
on their end. Wipes clean the canvas." She turns to Claire. "If they
think it's being scrubbed, they're more likely to speak, uh, write, a
little more freely." She's presenting it as a positive, playing it up
for the ancient abominations in the audience, but is hoping Claire
sees the danger.
   "Excellent," says Claire flatly. "And luckily the three of us have
eyes to read it on behalf of our dread lords. They are all quite
illiterate; they have no need for such things, you see." She grabs
Angel's wrist again. "Held by Company. Made a friend." She releases
the wrist and touches her cheek. "Stole my magic. Put that sentence
between the other two."
   "Held by Company. Stole my magic. Made a friend? That doesn't flow right."
   "We're not composing a sonnet, Trini."
   "But it sounds like she stole her own magic."
   "I think it's clear from context."
   Angel breaks in. "They stole my magic, period, captive, period.
That gets it across, doesn't it?"
   "They stole my magic. Captive." Trini jots it down on a scrap of
paper. "Made a friend."
   "No," says Angel. "No offense, Trini. It makes me sound naive."
   "None taken," says Trini. "How about, cellmate helping me? Then we
segue into the conditions for communication."
   "Still makes her sound naive," says Claire. "They stole my magic.
Captive with Trinity Tran."
   "Why would you give them my name?" says Trini.
   "We know David was a spy for the circle. Possibly - even probably -
he passed on information about you and your situation." (Maybe
definitely? Claire would be the one to know.) "Cellmate helping me
could mean that the cellmate is a plant, a scheme. We give them your
name, that's a different story. It also increases the possibility that
they'll try to reach out to you, to turn you, maybe even try to rescue
you or some nonsense." Claire underlines that last bit with her eyes
before conforming once more to her role: "That gives us another
possible avenue of intel, which can further The Company's long-term
goals."

THEY STOLE MY MAGIC. CAPTIVE WITH TRINITY TRAN. WRITE ONLY AT 12AM EST.
   Maile stares at the tattoo and sighs. "Leek, any of this mean
anything to you?"
   "No," says Lieke. "How can they steal her magic? I don't even know
if that is a thing."
   Maile looks at the other two. "Any ideas?"
   "I'm new here myself," says Sarah.
   June shakes her head. "But."
   "But?"
   "If the other Lieke doesn't have her magic. Then I'm not sure if
this Lieke does either."
   "That's ridiculous," says Lieke, holding up her arm. "Magic."
   "What I'm saying is, is if you die - if either of you die - you
might not come back."
   "Which would explain why she hasn't come back," says Maile. "I
don't think we can have you out in the field anymore, Leek. Not until
we know for sure."
   "Bull," says Lieke. "So I can get killed in the field, so what?
Every one of you can get killed in the field. I'm no different."
   "Calm down," says Maile.
   "I can handle myself. You've seen me handle myself."
   "It's not about that."
   "Maybe I need to get out in the field. Maybe I need the distraction."
   "And maybe I need you here," snaps Maile. "Maybe right now your arm
is more important to me than the rest of you. If we want to get the
other Leek back, we need this line of communication open, which means
we need you to stay safe. Are we copacetic?"
   "Yeah."
   "So, the other question is, does anyone know who Trinity Tran is?"
   Sarah raises her hand. "Well, I know in that I just googled her.
Lots of different folks, but I figured if I threw 'mancer' after her
name it might narrow it down. Her powers first, uh, manifested?"
   "She was kissed," says June.
   "What?"
   "We call it being kissed. Kissed by Venus."
   "That's really gross, but okay. Had her first kiss last August,
same as a lot of other people. Doctor Tran was at work and, uh." She
falters. "You know, I can't, uh, look, I got my own hang-ups and this,
this resonates. I can't. Here." She hands her phone to Maile.
   "Jesus," says Maile. "Whatever her powers were, they were out of
control. She panicked. One forty nine. That's the body count, one
forty nine. She disappeared. And now The Company has her."
   "Captive. With the other me."
   "Was Tran someone you guys were trying to look for?" says Maile.
June and Lieke shake their heads. "Maybe I'm reading too much into
this. But I'd like to think that the other Leek would say more than
that, like, 'google her' or something?"
   "That's what I'd do," says Lieke. "So that's what she'd do."
   "Unless she expected us to know who she was already," says June.
   "Go on."
   "What if it was someone David made contact with? Maybe he passed it
on to Beth. Maybe he gave Lieke the name when they met."
   "If they met," says Lieke. "It's been almost a month, and there's
no sign of him."
   "Which brings up another possibility," says Maile. "The Company
knew that David was compromised; that's why we tried to get him out.
And maybe Lieke succeeded, we don't know. The Company is holding this
Trinity Tran captive, so maybe it was someone David knew, or maybe
someone who was working for us on the inside. What I'm getting at is
if The Company thinks we know who Trinity Tran is, and Lieke knows
that we don't, maybe she's tipping us off."
   "That she's being watched?" says Sarah. "So, the thing about
writing at midnight, is that a feint?"
   "Could be," says Maile. "Or it could be all on the level."
   "So, which way do we go?" says Lieke. "Play it safe?"
   "Not entirely," says Maile. "Assuming the worst, we don't want them
to think that we're onto them. If the other Leek stops being useful to
them, that could go bad places. Let's give them information, but give
them information they already know, but that they don't know that we
know."
   "Trevor?" says Sarah.
   "Trevor," confirms Maile.
   "Should we ask about David?" says June.
   Maile drums her fingers on her arm. "Let's say the plan worked, and
he got out. We don't know where he is, but neither does The Company in
that scenario. In fact, maybe they think he's with us. That's
leverage, and we lose that the second we ask."
   June exchanges looks with Lieke.
   "What?" says Maile.
   "It makes sense," admits June. "It's logical. But David isn't just
some chess piece."
   "I didn't mean it like that."
   "He's a friend," says June, talking over her. "We're worried about
him, just like we're worried about our other Lieke."
   "And, again," says Lieke, "we're not even sure if she's being monitored."
   Maile looks to Sarah. "What's your take?"
   "Ladies, could you give us a minute?"
   Lieke shrugs and leaves the room. June follows suit, a cat under each arm.
   "My take," says Sarah, "is that it's a very calculating and
mathematical way of looking at it, and as an engineer I appreciate and
admire that. It's probably the right call. But I don't think it's the
call you should make."
   "I'm listening."
   "You're ruthless and clever and that's very charming, and it's what
we need, it's why they pulled you in. But whether they know it or not,
they also need someone to hold them together as a group. A social
leader. That's not Lieke, because she's a hot mess. That's not June;
she's too shy. And I don't like or even really understand people very
much. Unless Beth wakes up and turns out to be the life of the party,
you've got to do double duty, find a balance. Because if you make
every decision like it's some abstract game theory problem, they're
gonna hate you and they're gonna resent you."
   "But you think it's the right call?"
   "Oh, absolutely," says Sarah. "But, look. You've read Dance with
Dragons, right?"
   Thank God Maile finally has someone who speaks nerd. "Yeah."
   "For the watch," says Sarah, stabbing the air in the stomach with
an imaginary dagger. "Jon Snow was right, capital R right, every call
he made. But every call he made just eroded the trust they had in him
as a leader, and when that runs out, you can't lead, and then what
does it matter if you're right? That's how you end up perforated."
   "You're right," says Maile. Then: "He's not dead, though, right?
Obviously he's in the wolf."
   "Oh, obviously," says Sarah. "Why else have that prologue?"
   "So. R plus L equals J?"
   "Oh, a hundred percent."
   "It's nice to have someone I can agree with on the important
stuff," says Maile.
   "Are you nerds done?" says Lieke.
   "How long have you been listening?" says Sarah.
   "The whole time, obviously," says Lieke. "A hot mess. Thanks for that."
   "I call it like I see it."
   "I didn't say you were wrong," says Lieke.
   This kind of defeats the whole purpose of the private pow-wow, and
makes Maile more than a little self-conscious; now if she does change
her mind on David, both of them will be thinking it's yet another
round of three-dimensional chess. She tries to split the difference.
"Let's ask her for a mission report. It doesn't mention David
explicitly. So if she's not being monitored, she can tell us what
happened. If she is being monitored but they don't know what she was
doing, she can maybe tip us off like she did with Tran."
   "And if they know what the plan was?"
   "We're just asking her for a mission report, a normal and routine
thing we'd ask any operative. It's a debrief. It doesn't really
confirm one way or the other what we know or don't. Then they're the
ones trying to read the tea leaves."
   "Well," says Sarah, "if that's settled, I'll get the needles."
   "Oh, joy," says Lieke.

TREVOR A ROBOT FROM CRADLE. NEED MISSION REPORT.
   "What do you think?" asks Claire.
   "It doesn't feel like her," says Angel.
   "You know it's a her?" says Trini.
   "It feels like a her. But not this time."
   "It's the same handwriting," says Trini.
   "But not the same feeling," says Angel. "There's no warmth to it.
None of the, the longing."
   "It's fairly clinical," agrees Claire. She finishes her wine and
casually thrusts the empty glass toward Trini without looking at her.
   Obediently if begrudgingly, she pours another glass. "Maybe they're onto us?"
   "Of course they're onto us," says Claire somewhat derisively. "The
mission report is a test. Only Angel knows what her mission was, or
she would if she had her memories."
   "And you don't have any idea what that mission was," says Trini.
   "Not a one," says Claire, probably lying. "But I'd wager they
already know whether or not it's succeeded."
   "So why ask?" says Angel.
   Claire brings her glass to her lips and barely stifles her
exasperation at Angel's stupidity. Trini tries a gentler approach:
"It's your chance to tip them off, let them know that you're answering
under duress, being monitored, whatever." She turns to Claire. "That
kind of puts us in a pickle, doesn't it?"
   "Only if we guess wrong," says Claire nonchalantly. "And even
then..." She shrugs with the hand holding the glass. "Even if you two
foul it up, then we know that they know that we know."
   "And then it stops," says Angel.
   "Unless we give them a reason to keep talking," says Claire. "They
gave us something useful here. I didn't know Trevor was a robot, did
you?"
   "I don't even know who Trevor is," says Angel.
   "I also have no idea," says Trini.
   "I recruited Trevor three years ago," says Claire. "He was
originally part of a sabotage squad. Mekhanomancer; made things stop
working. Lydia reassigned him to work for the Cradle unit for several
months before having him placed as a spy within the circle. He was
definitely human when I met him."
   "Cradle Tech is one of our subsidiaries," says Trini, mostly for
Angel's benefit. "I don't think they would have replaced him with some
kind of robot without Lydia knowing about it."
   "Without her approving it," corrects Claire. "And we already know
that she was secretly working for the circle."
   "But that doesn't make sense," says Angel. "Why infiltrate the
circle if she's trying to help them?"
   "To keep up appearances," says Claire. "As far as I know, we had
Trevor working for us, but maybe he wasn't working for us at all. Or
maybe Lydia was playing at something else, something more complicated
and insidious." She smiles as if at a private joke.
   The whole thing makes Trini's head spin. She knows (or is pretty
sure) that Claire was the one working for the circle. She wants to
just ask Claire outright what she really knows and what she really
doesn't, but Venus has ears everywhere.
   Claire continues. "For this robot to pass as Trevor successfully,
he needs to either have magic or some way to fake it. If it's the
latter, that's not much to worry about. If it's the former -
transferring the gift of Venus to a machine - that's an unspeakable
blasphemy. As blasphemous as what happened to you, Angel." Claire runs
a fingernail across the scar on her cheek. "Perhaps even the same
blasphemy."
   "What, they're making her a robot?" says Trini.
   "I'll be looking into it," says Claire. "And so will they." With a
small knife she slits open the tip of her finger.
   "Jesus!" says Trini.
   "Needed to look something up and didn't feel like going back to the
office." Claire slips the finger into her mouth and lazily sucks the
blood. "Ah, there it is. Write down this address."
   Trini jots it down; some place in California. "Do you want me to heal it?"
   "No," says Claire.
   "Don't be ridiculous," says Trini, reaching for her hand.
   Claire snatches it away, glaring at her. "Let it bleed. Magic
should always have a cost."
   "Fine. So, what's the address for?" says Trini.
   "It's where Trevor was assigned previous to going undercover." She
flicks at her fingertip with her tongue. "I don't have any official
record of what we do there. We will be conducting a sort of raid, or
rather - since I'm still not certain who on our payroll is with us and
who is party to this blasphemy - we'll be letting our enemies do the
dirty work for us. Give them the address."
   A smile slowly curls up on Trini's face. "They'll think we're
double agents or something." Which they are. (Probably?) But they're
pretending not to be (she thinks). "We give them something they can
use, so that they trust us, and they give us stuff that we can use."
   Angel gives a desperate, hollow little laugh. Claire and Trini turn
and stare at her. "I just," she begins, "I just want to talk to her.
Not you talking to them, but me to her. I, I need her."
   Claire seems more than a little irritated at this, and is about to
say something snide, when Trini breaks in. "Figure out what you want
to say to her, and we'll send that too."
   Claire glares at her. Then she stands up and heads out to the
kitchen. "Trini, a word?"
   Trini rolls her eyes, eliciting a rare smile from Angel, then follows.
   "Well?" says Trini.
   "There are more important things at work here than sending little
love notes back and forth."
   "Not for her, there isn't," says Trini. "And we need her. We need
her alive and cooperative. Suicidal and depressed threatens that. Give
her this, and we have her compliance."
   "That's very manipulative of you," says Claire. "You identify what
the subject wants, and you give them just enough of it to get what you
want. I didn't know you had that in you."
   "I don't," says Trini. "I actually care about people, Claire. I
want Angel to be okay and I want to help her. But I know that kind of
discussion is a non-starter with you. So I framed it in terms that
would appeal to you."
   "That's what I was talking about," says Claire. "You identified
what I wanted, used it to get what you wanted."
   "Guess I learned from the best," says Trini, trying to laugh it off.
   "May I ask a favor of you?" says Claire.
   "You never needed my permission before," says Trini. "Yeah, Claire,
go ahead."
   "Please call me Miss Belden."
   "Okay."
   "And allow me to call you Miss Tran."
   "Sure, I guess."
   "Thank you, Miss Tran." Claire averts her gaze, looking down at the
floor, and her voice becomes quiet. "Please tell me what to do."
   Trini blinks, then recovers. "Give me your finger."
   Obediently, Claire presents it. Trini kisses it gently, almost
maternally, and her magic heals the wound.
   "Thank you," says Claire.
   "You're just doing it to me now, aren't you?" says Trini.
"Manipulating me. Giving me what I want to get what you want."
   "It is what you want, isn't it?" says Claire. "To call the shots?
To be in control for once?" She pauses. "Maybe even to get back at me
for all I've done to you?" She grabs Trini's hand, the hand with the
bandage, the hand that Claire put a knife through.
   It hurts. It hurts so much she can hardly breathe. It makes her so
angry she can hardly think. It makes her want to throw up, makes her
want to scream. Instead she whispers. "Yes."
   Claire trembles, sinking to her knees.
   "Heal it," commands Trini.
   Claire looks up at her. Trini's magic is uniquely difficult for a
metamancer like Claire to borrow; the pain for her will be
indescribable.
   "Magic should always have a cost," says Trini coldly.
   "Yes, Miss Tran." Because Trini can't work her magic on herself,
she's never known what it feels like to be on the receiving end. Her
entire body is intensely alive, every inch of her sensitive and
tingling. It is perhaps the purest form of ecstasy she has ever
experienced. That feeling lingers and builds until she can't stand it
anymore.
   "Up," she whispers, and Claire is on her feet again and Trini
squishes her against the cold refrigerator. Claire kisses her, and
Trini hears her voice in the back of her head: finally, Claire says,
we can talk without being overheard.
   Trini pulls away, stares at her. Claire nods: yes, that was me.
What, do you think I'm into you? (Something approaching a laugh
burbles in the back of Trini's brain.) Don't flatter yourself.
   Angel clears her throat. Trini and Claire both turn to see her
standing in the doorway.
   "Just going to bed," she says. "We'll write back in the morning?"
   "Yes, yes," says Claire, waving her off. "In the morning."
   Soon they are alone again, and Trini hears Claire's voice in her
head. She tells Trini about the balance and the blue lady, about David
and the two Thirteens, about the return of the necromancer and the end
of the midnight war, about the solstice and the plan.
   "That's insane," says Trini aloud.
   Claire silences her with a finger on her lips. "It can work," she
thinks in Trini's brain. "It will work, but I need someone to work for
me on the inside while I'm putting my ducks in a row."
   "I don't suppose I get a say in the matter."
   "Of course you don't. But if we see this thing through, you won't
be trapped anymore. The Company will be yours. Its power, will be
yours. Don't pretend you don't want it."
   "I do," Trini thinks with a shudder. "I hate that I want it."
   "That feeling will pass with time."
   "The Company is evil. Straight-up evil. I can't make it good."
   "No. But what did the devil say when he was cast into the pit?
Better to reign in hell, then serve in heaven. And Tran?" The voice in
Trini's head becomes a whisper in her ear: "He was right."



COPYRIGHT (C) 2020 TOM RUSSELL.