Reunions (E 2.1, H 2.1, L 2.1)

Litch,

I don't resist Litch's urging toward the door, but I do glance back to see what Amazon was so motivated to win. A picture? I squint, curious about what it could be, but how could it matter? I'm not sure anything I could see there would make me feel any better anyway. I turn back ahead and focus instead on Litch's words, his assumption of a room, a place to stay. To stay.

I look up at him. "Am I a prisoner here? A slave? A pet? What am I to you?"

Helix,

"It's her mother," a Whisper tells you with a giggle. "Her very dead mother. We have her here."

As I get to the kitchen I can hear Shrike talking at Paisley, trying to find anything to pull her mind off of what has just happened. It is so sad to see children pulled into this dren. Both Aloe and Paisley - forced to deal with situations at such a young age that no one should ever have to think about.

"Lady Paisley," I begin as I always speak to her, "are you okay, is anything hurting you?" I rush over to her and join Shrike in looking her over.

I whisper to Shrike, "Madam Parker should be fine. Have you spotted anything here?"

I frown at the Whispers insights. It's almost impossible to imagine Amazon caring so much for anyone, or anyone caring so much for her. She always seems so stoic to me - half machine, half mortal - but I guess there's still room for a heart. At least she has a mother to miss.

I answer them back, "Speaking of mothers, I did what you asked. I got Nuport to trust me." I hope. "You owe me Hard Strike's message to Lucky."

Appropriate questions. The Sippians certainly made her into a prisoner, perhaps some sort of wretched servant from what Titicaca driveled on about. That makes me think of what that Rafter bogtrotter asked. 'What is she to you?' What indeed.

"To be frank, I'm not entirely sure. The entity that I serve showed me a vision in which you played a vital role. There's a storm coming, Helix, and I don't mean the common sea squall." I pause to pull one of the large doors open to the Roost's entrance and start to head down the constructed rampways toward Zephyr and Plover's chambers. "I believe that you are someone very special. You have much to offer this world. I believe you are the Key...the Voice that can control the tempest."

Helix,


"You did earn Nuport's trust. And then you lost her to the Vaulters," a Whisper accuses spitefully.

"That was not your request," another Whisper says, obviously talking to the other Whispers, not you. This Whisper tone is unyielding. "If you wanted more from her, you should have demanded more. It isn't her fault that your vague command was fulfilled without gaining you the tool you desired." You feel the Whisper turn its attention on you. "Helix. I am Hard Strike. Thank you for finding my murderer. My son will be pleased... when you finally name Wells to him and Lucky can take revenge for me. My message to my son is to kill Wells and leave the Sipps. My Little Fire is no leader, and they will never let him become one."

Litch and Helix,
Amazon packs up the picture of a kindly young woman into her lockbox and gives you both a curt nod. She marches to her bass boat to take off.

You head to Zephyr and Plover's room and find Zephyr standing there wearing her underclothes. She has a basin of water and a mirror set up as she carefully cleans the grime off her face with a rag. She sees you've entered and doesn't bother to cover herself or greet Helix.

What do you do?

Litch doesn't tell me that I'm NOT a prisoner as he explains his crazy religious omens. I steal a quick glance over my shoulder at the outside world before I head through the door he opens for me, wondering when I'll see it again, before I head inside.

Litch's answer and the Whisper's words collide in my head and the effort to split my attention gives me a headache that pulses behind my eyes - familiar as an old friend, unwelcome as an old enemy.

I worry that the Whispers won't deliver what they promised, but the commanding Whisper quiets them - Hard Strike. Goosebumps crawl over my skin knowing it's actually her dead spirit speaking to me now, that I carry her and so many others in my mind. I am a vessel of ghosts and secrets. She calls Lucky "My Little Fire" and for a moment, I think I feel the connection warm, a taste of a mother's love, maybe the same feeling Amazon got looking at that photo, a feeling I'll only ever feel in this disembodied, outsider's view.

I'm lost to it until Litch calls me the Key. A ripple of alert tension rolls through my body and my attention snaps back to him, catching up on the words he's spoken. Maybe what the Whispers are to me are whatever it is he thinks he serves, but if he thinks I can control them, he is going to be disappointed. But if I'm useless to him, would he just let me go? And where would I go at this point? I don't even know if Wells wants me, or wants me dead.

I push away the tension and the questions, looking down as we traverse the ramps through the Talon's headquarters and trying to act normal even though I'm not sure what normal is supposed to be for someone who was kidnapped, unconscious, and about two minutes from drowning a moment ago.

I tell Hard Strike, "If I get the chance, I'll tell him." But I don't know if Lucky will leave the Sipps so easily. He has the ship, his plans, a legacy he wants to uphold. Will the words from beyond the grave be enough for him to walk away? Who would take his place? I shudder at the idea of a Sipp crew commanded by Karo.

When we reach the room and I see Zephyr there cleaning up from what must have been a messy battle, I feel a spike of fear in my belly. At least the Sipps knew what they were getting with me - the dumb cow to serve breakfast, gut fish, and occasionally talk with their leader behind closed doors. Wells would have wanted a warm body in his bed, a claim to lord over his compatriots. Litch expects me to be something more, something I'm not.

I look at him. "I'm no warrior."

I don't spare Zephyr much more than a glance. I had informed her and her half-sister that Helix would begin her stay rooming with them, but I regret not giving her more of a warning. For all her bravado, my daughter does need occasional alone time to recharge, especially after a battle. Unfortunately, it's not a luxury I can afford to her right now.

I lead Helix to a corner of the room where a bed sits with a plain, dark draping has been hung to create some semblance of privacy. It's certainly more than I gave to poor Edmund. "Neither the Gray Wing nor I expect you to do any fighting, lass. As you say, you're not a warrior. To put you in a situation where you are expected to be someone you are not would be a waste of your true talents."

I turn away from the bed and minor furnishings to face her. "But...perhaps I'm putting too much expectation on you too soon. Expectations are a compass, not a map, after all." I pause, studying her face for a hint or more of how she responds to me easing off. "My only hope, for the present, is to make you feel comfortable and safe. The rest will come in time."

The space Litch leads me to is nothing compared to the opulence at the Vault. I didn't see a bedroom there, but I didn't have to. I can imagine. I look at the little bed before me now with its sad little privacy drape and think of Salem in her big, lonely bed back with the Sipps. Even that room was a far cry from this shared space. I can almost feel how her little hand played with the ends of my hair at night.

I can hear her asking Lucky for me tonight, wondering where I am, and I can see how he'll fold to her demands. He'll look for me, even if he hates me for bringing him to the Vault like I did, he'll look for me for her. He'll say it's so the Sipps don't lose face - after all, how can they just let their slave be taken away without a fight? - but I know it will be for Salem, and for himself, for his answer.

Litch talks about expectations and time, and I wonder if Lucky is out there cursing himself for giving me time to fulfill his expectations, if he'll demand the answer immediately next time, if he'll threaten with those rusty nails again. It's a relief, then, that Litch seems to be at least not in a hurry here and I feel a bit of the concern ease from my face at his answer.

"Lucky will come after me," I tell him after a moment. "Maybe Wells too." Though probably not himself, he has people for that. "I don't know if they'll try to take me back or kill me."

I try to say the words like the facts that they are, without fear, but I feel my throat tighten toward the end. Maybe it's not a fear these Death Culters will understand. Don't they all cherish the grave?

"I don't know your...Gray Wing...but I...don't want to die." I lick my lips, wondering if I'm saying too much, offering too much, but before I can stop the words, I hear myself add, "I don't want Lucky to die either."

I had assumed that Lucky Strike would come after her. More to save face than to recoup the slave labor. I'm not worried about the Sippians. Wells Fargo on the other hand...The Vaulters have vast resources and will not meekly sit by while another person makes them look foolish. I'll have to discover just what she was doing with him and what he wants with her.

For now, the girl need confident comforting. I give her a small smile and gently set the fingers of each hand on her shoulder, much as I do with my own kids, though also with the restraint of the unfamiliar. "I won't let that happen, lass. The Gray Wing has blessed you and will continue to do so. You are safe while you remain at the Roost. The Talons will protect you." I watch her, trying to make the lines of my hardened face soften without making it appear a grimace as I watch her take in my promises.

"Go ahead and rest here. When you are ready, you can make your way down to the kitchens for a hot meal. It's easy to find. Just follow your nose." I turn to walk back to the exit of the room. When I reach the door, I pause and turn back to her. "I'm glad you're here, Helix. I hope you'll choose to stay with us for a little while." It will be easier on all of us it staying is her choice. This isn't a prison, but there are those who do not realize how much they need a sanctuary. I'd rather not have to convince her.

Litch smiles at me now, offering protection, but there's still part of me inside that doesn't trust him. He is unpredictable and what's here now may change with the wind tomorrow. I hope, at least, that his faith will keep him steadfast, but faith also drives people to madness.

He says he hopes I'll choose to stay, and I feel the question pass over my face like a cloud - I have a choice? I don't think I do. I think it just sounds nicer that way. Like when we run out of a brew at the Belly and I can only offer whatever is left. If the choice is to drink what's available or go dry, it's not much of a choice.

I fold my arms around myself, hugging my ribs and telling myself that I have done hard things before. I can do it again. I can lose my job, my apartment, every possession I ever owned, and I can start over. Here, maybe, or somewhere else. I'll be fine. Maybe I can even use these people's beliefs to my advantage somehow. If Litch thinks I'm really that special, then that should give me some kind of power, if I can figure out how to wield it.

"I have things," I say, stopping him before he can go, "with the Sipps. A backpack I want back if I'm going to stay here."

I frown at her polite demand. Retrieving the backpack from the Sippians is tantamount to stomping their toes after slapping them in the face. "What kinds of things were in this backpack? It may be that we can replace them, along with a new bag for your things." I mentally cross my fingers, hoping she doesn't have a picture of her mother or another precious keepsake like Amazon. Those are irreplaceable.

I reach out and pull Paisley into the tightest squeeze I can muster. As I release her I hold her at arm's length and begin to look her over. "You must have had a really wild trip. Can you tell me about it?"

I still at the offer, admittedly surprised that he’d be willing to even buy things at my request, but then this isn’t about the jingle, or the things even, though I do have a few pieces in there I would miss. "Some clothes, makeup, and a few leeches from a peddler named Pasty Patsy. Nothing I’m going to cry over." I might. I am paper thin right now, barely holding myself together.

I take a step closer to the little privacy curtain, reaching down to grip it in my hand as I look at him, ignoring Zephyr for the moment. "The Sipps saw fit to let their slave take a few things of her own with her. If I’m not afforded the same here, what does that tell me about how you regard me?" I pause a moment, letting that settle. "I’m sure you’ll make the right choice."

My eyes flicker involuntarily over to Zephyr. I've put so much weight on finding Helix and thinking about how to persuade her to come and stay at the Roost that I've forgotten that she's no older than my daughters. I've entirely looked past the fact that she would act like them too, with their petty power plays. I direct my attention back to Helix and breathe through a thin-lipped smile. "We don't have slaves here. We think more highly of each other and our guests than to believe that a few baubles will give their life meaning and worth."

I realize that I'm close to pontificating once again and I shake my head, my smile directed at myself as I reset and release the irritation from her quiet demands. "I'll see what I can do, Helix. In the meantime, rest, eat, be at peace." Then I turn to leave.