Reunions (E 2.1, H 2.1, L 2.1)

Location: The Roost
Time: afternoon

---

Edmund / Syd,

The Talons left you alone at The Roost over an hour ago. How did you pass the time? Did you clean up the living areas or the room you share with Jackdaw? Did you take stock of the cooking supplies and the larder? Did you look for a weapon you could carry? Did you snoop around?

It's nearly noon when the Talons return to The Roost - you hear their jet skis from blocks away. You also hear the low stuttering sound of an outboard motor. When you come to a window or the door outside, you see them arriving - all of them. Cuts and bruises, some soot-stained faces, but they all come home to Roost. Plover is piloting a boat you don't recognize - ugly and covered with rude bumper stickers from the world before. Standing on the boat, you do recognize the passengers.

Janelle is bloody and weary, but she still looks smart and professional in her suit. A beaten-down Parker looks miserable and she holds her daughter Paisley in her arms. Are they prisoners? They've been through hell. Were they on the plane you hear overhead, the one that pulled the Talons away?

What do you do?

---

Litch,

After the big fight at The Ren and defeating the Reavers, your Talons return to eat and rest. Plover is piloting the Reaver boat and you're sure there are some weapons aboard that can get you a jingle or two. But the real prizes are the three ladies you saved from a terrible fate. You know Syd will recognize them, of course. He served their household.

The rest of the Talons bring their jet skis to the dock and tie them off, they're in good moods overall after a hard fight. You catch Jackdaw waiting on Plover, checking in to make sure she's alright. Mynah orders Javan to bring his ski over to her workshop because she heard something amiss. Shrike heads inside to check on Aloe, while Kestrel collect weapons to take them to the armory and clean them.

What do you do?

Morale is high. The adrenaline is still pumping vigorously through our bloodstreams. Everyone is laughing and bantering as we pull in and automatically go about our end-of-job tasks. I try to observe Jack and Plover impassively out of my peripheral view. I can feel emotion start to send bubble to the surface of my awareness, but I push it back down. I rarely see Jackdaw show that level of consideration for another without horsing around loudly. It seems sincere. I resolve to give him a fair shake.

I look away from the pair over to the three prizes. I'm not certain if Edmund - or Syd, as he is going by now - will want his identity revealed yet, if at all. Perhaps they won't even recognize him with his makeover. I've spread word amongst the Talons of the butler's new name, but I'm not sure if it's stuck yet. I gesture for Zephyr to come over. "Good job lass. Not too hurt are you?" I cup a hand around the back of her neck and look her over, a mild, fatherly concern making me squint as I hunt for any battle blemishes. In a lower tone, murmur to her. "I'm going to leave the girl and the two women in your care, luv. You're in charge of helping them rest and get cleaned up. I'm going to talk to Syd" I put extra emphasis on the name. "About their presence and what he can offer them medically."

It has been a quiet day at the Roost. The ever-present sound of the water lapping against the stone outside provides a pleasant backdrop as I pick up around the living quarters. A distant hum begins to crescendo letting me know that the flock must be returning. I make my way over to the window and peer out.

My breath arrests in my lungs. My hands begin to shake.

Parker, Paisley, and Janelle are there - and between the injuries I can see and the emotions I'm seeing - something hasn't gone well. My eyes dart between the Talons and three people I've always considered to be family. They don't appear to be captives. Perhaps whoever recently owned the boat Plover is driving is to blame for the wounds.

I rush through the hallways headed for the docks. Though I pause as I near the final door. What do they know of the past couple days? Are they back at the request of Princy? The twins? Someone else? Would they be relieved to see me or will they hate me for ending up outside of the Tower - away from Princy? A tear runs down my cheek - still hard to tell what emotion is at the root of it. Dare I attempt to hide my identity from them?

That thought startles me. All reason and understanding tell me to rush out there and tend to their wounds while discussing the events of late to see if I can get a clearer picture of what happened. The only benefit to remaining Syd is that they may hate Edmund, and this would let me avoid that potential truth for a minute longer.

So long as there is not immediate harm I will bide my time and see if one of the Talons approaches me first. Maybe it will give me a clue as to what Litch or Princy's family is thinking.

I wait inside the door and watch, through tear-blurred eyes to see how they behave.

Syd,
You watch as Zephyr and Litch talk, then she heads onto the boat to talk to Parker and Janelle. Parker hands Paisley to Zephyr, which seems odd. That's when you see Parker's legs crumple under her. She falls into Janelle, who barely manages to hold her up.

What do you do?

Litch,

As you watch Jackdaw and Plover for a moment, your eyes scan the horizon. You hear an outboard motor and quickly pick up the sight of a low-profile "bass boat". Amazon is sitting behind the wheel with her machine gun over her lap as she pilots the boat toward the Roost. You spot someone in the passenger seat, but they're slumped over. They have long black hair flying in the wind - is it Helix?

As I watch Parker fall into Janelle's arms I spring into motion. I can't tell if her collapse is from fatigue, wounds, or something else. "Madam, what is the matter?!"

I begin looking her over, searching for any sign of a wound while Janelle braces her. "Let us move her inside, quickly."

Over my shoulder I quickly inquire with the nearby Talon, "How did you come across them Miss Zephyr? Did you go back to the Tower?"

When Parker's legs fold beneath her and she drops into Janelle's arms, I make a start toward them. At the same moment, I see Syd running out of the front doors and hear the motor of Amazon's boat and I come to a halt. I am concerned for Parker's wellbeing, but syd seems to have it well in hand. I'm more concerned with keeping our guests out of Amazon's view - I don't want rumors to fly about who I'm keeping hidden away here.

I place my thumb and forefinger in my mouth and whistle to the gang members still present. "Get everyone inside. Now! Merlin," I beckon my trusted lieutenant to my side. "Fetch that boat we commandeered from the Rafters. The one with the green lock box. We're going to make a trade."

Helix,

You start awake with Whispers accusing you of being too slow, too dumb, and too too trusting of Lucky. You deserve this, they berate you as you hear the sound of an outboard motor and feel the wind on your face. You're moving. On a small boat. When you chance it and open your eyes to slits, you see the Rafter called Amazon driving the boat. She's right beside you, in fact, you could reach out and touch her muscular shoulder.

Amazon has been to the Belly with the Rafter a number of times. She never drinks, never cuts up with the others, never sings their dumb shanties. She's always watching. Always prepared for trouble. What did you do to help her out of a sticky situation a few weeks back?

You see that she's taking you to some odd-looking building and there are a bunch of Talons scrambling at the dock to this building.

What do you do?

The ringing in my ears fades into the sound of a whining engine overlayed with the Whispers' taunts, which must mean I'm not dead yet. My head pounds, lips numb and tongue heavy. Everything aches.

When I see Amazon there beside me through my lashes, my mind muddles through questions sluggishly. Why am I...here? Where...are we going? ...what is happening?

It was only a few weeks ago that I ran across Amazon at the market. She and one of the vendors were arguing about something - I didn't catch what - but it was escalating, and the vendors tend to gang up on customers when things go south. It's better for them to stick together to prevent theft and threats than it would be for them to fend for themselves. I know she may have lasted the fight alone, but I stepped in to ask about another item which gave her enough room to walk away. Or maybe she's mad at me for interrupting. I stupidly wonder if that's why she came after me now, but no one would attack the Vault for petty revenge, especially not against me. I'm not important enough for that. Of course, maybe whatever deal I disrupted that day was.

I risk opening my eyes a little wider, wincing at the light cutting deep into my skull, and spot the busy ants scurrying along the docks ahead, Talons I realize as they come into slow focus. I try to swallow to wet my parched throat, but there's nothing there. In the hazy panic of the world turning sideways around me so many times in the last hour that I'm dizzy with the jumbled mix of decadence and dancing around my own demise, my instincts only want one thing: get away.

Without my permission, my body acts on that impulse and I try to make my quaking legs move to pitch myself off this boat to get away. Get away. Get away.

Litch and Syd,

Merlin barks at everyone to get the frell inside and shoves Jackdaw and Plover ahead of him. He's headed in to grab the lock box.

Syd, Zephyr explains that the girls crashed into The Ren before Litch and Merlin start yelling. She yanks Janelle away from the boat, telling you to carry the lady, meaning Parker.

What do you do?

Helix,

You move too quickly for Amazon and hear her utter an annoyed curse as you roll out of your seat and pitch overboard. The bass boat surges forward a bit before Amazon is able to start her turn. The water here is cold and deep. She's going to come back and try to fish you out if you don't dive down and try to swim away from here.

What do you do?

My flock is quickly scrambling to obey. Merlin rushes to retrieve Amazon's payment. I turn away from them to walk down the jetty where Amazon's boat is pointed. I calm my heartbeat, preparing to receive contractor and prize. Four in one day? How blessed. I walk to the mooring lines and wait with my hands clasped behind my back.

Then...I see Helix roll over the edge of the low-drafted vessel to plop into the choppy waters. "It can never be easy can it?" I say aloud to no one. With a sigh, I remove my wide-brimmed hat and gently drape it on a nearby dock piling. Same for my jacket. It might be warm and protective against the rain and elements, but it'll make it difficult to swim. Before setting it on the dock, I pull out my goggles and press them firmly against my face. With a deep breath, I dive into the depths. Between myself and the Rafter, one of us will retrieve the girl before she sinks to hell.

Syd,

With the excitement over the boat arriving, folks are screaming and moving, but you're focused on Parker, right? You see why she fell right away - blood loss. Her left hip and left leg are covered in blood and you see a piece of metal sticking in her side. She's staring up at the sky and sweating profusely. She's lost too much blood, Syd. She could die.

What do you do?

The water is a stark slap of reality against my skin. When I surface and gasp for air, legs kicking and arms keeping myself afloat, I spin in the water, hunting for a way out. Amazon is already turning her boat around and I'm not a strong swimmer. In truth, I'm already regretting jumping in. I know enough to keep my head above water, but I spent my childhood far above the surface of the water, not below it. I never developed the affinity for it that most in our world possess, not the affinity or the comfort. The depths below me are a maw waiting to open and swallow me whole. Choppy waves splash against my face and into my mouth as I fight panic. I'm too afraid to duck below, so I start making feeble progress away from the boat, a wounded mouse chased by a hungry cat.

I don't know if Lucky or Wells survived the explosion at the Vault, and if they did, they might both want my head for what happened. Blackjack will be angry at me for abandoning the Belly. Dakota is slow and useless. My options for help are dwindling faster than my strength, but there's one person, at least, who I think might want me alive, who might be strong enough to take on Amazon.

"Mm-" I start before a wave catches me in the mouth and steals the word with a gurgle. I spit water out and try again, "Mikkie. Mikkie."

Litch,

You're there first. You swim like a shark and surface close enough to stop her from doing something the Gray Wing says will be serious trouble. She looks tired, hurt, and scared.

What do you do?

Helix,

You try to tread water and call out to Mikkie. You say his name twice and feel the weird tingle of the calling, but then Litch surfaces right in front of you and the Whispers scream in terror and everything comes undone.

What do you do?

The sight of blood running down Parker's leg immediately causes flashbacks to the scene, just a day ago, when blood similarly rushed out of Princy.

Why is this happening?

I don't even know where to begin. Impaled. Shock. Blood loss. Organ damage.

I've always had a reputation for treating others, it started with just tending to them in small ways - little bedside manner tricks to help others feel better. Eventually, that put me in situations where I was actually treating wounds and caring for illnesses from time to time. Things tended to work out but I chalked that up to how gritty and resilient folks are these days. The past day has made me question whether or not there is something more mystical at work. I have been feeling increasingly convinced that whatever malevolent spirit is helping me with such impossible works is doing so by feeding off whatever good things might happen in my life.

Save Princy, lose my home.
Stabilize Kamae, cement my false reputation as a traitor.

I beg whatever is doing this to me with my jaw clenched and tears streaking all the way to the tip of my chin, "Please. One more time. Do what you want to me, just spare them."

For all of it's dangers, I do enjoy swimming in these waters. If it wasn't for the hazards, I might make it a part of my daily exercises. I've heard rumors that there are small lakes inside the buildings of affluent citizens, treated with special chemicals to render them less harmful to our bodies. What luxury! Occasionally, I've waded in the watery morass that covers the bottom levels of the Roost. It's safer than out here, but only just.

I glide beneath the surface, my goggles assisting my vision so I am not travelling blindly into the real Poseidon's belly. Below me, I can see the ruins of many buildings, along with several land-only vehicles. Remnants of another world. I ignore them and propel myself toward what look to be the thrashing legs of Helix. I launch upward to surface in front of her like a monster from the deep, my long hair draping my face like seaweed. I feel the pulsing presence of the Gray Wing whispering in my mind, warning me of her power, unstable with her fear and pain.

"It's alright lass." I spurt, water and breath combined. I swim in her direction and continue. "Let's get you somewhere safe." I reach out to hold her and look around for Amazon's boat.

The Whispers scream in my mind as Litch bursts from the water in front of me and I recoil, my head momentarily dipping below the surface as my lead limbs churn the water. Any pull I might have had over the weird workings of our world weakens and washes away to nothing, and when I get myself to air again, my arms and legs are burning, weak in the water, unfamiliar with this territory. All I have are the depths below or the gang leader in front of me. I make faltering progress toward Litch's outstretched arm, a lifeline with cost unknown.

"Why am I here?" I manage through chattering teeth that might be from fear or cold or weakness, or any combination of the three.

In the back of my mind, I wonder if this is how Lucky felt when I pulled him to the Vault. If it was, he handled it oceans better than I am.

"You are here because the Gray Wing wills it." And because their High Druid made it happen. Her limbs jerk from the cold and perhaps fatigue. I swim closer to her so that I can take her shivering body against my own, providing at least some warmth. "And because you are a very important person, though it is quite alright if you do not understand why." I say soothingly. "We can have a chat about all of that after we get you safe and dry." I keep one arm wrapped around her shoulders and start to kick out and tread back toward the jetty, trusting that either Amazon or one of the Talons will come pick us up before long.

Syd,
With practiced hands, you find the shrapnel, remove it, and quickly close the wound. Parker's lost too much blood to fully recover right away, but she'll be okay in a few days as long as you get her some plasma (surely one of the Talons has her blood type). Your hands are wet with her blood as you finish up your work with her on the dock. The boat was filthy and would've only made her sicker, but you were strong enough to carry Parker, your former employer. Her eyes slowly open and she sees you for the first time. Recognizes you. And she seems surprised, and asks quietly why you're here with the Talons.

What do you do?

Litch is a solid rock in the churning water, but he's a rock that could as easily be a dry place to land as he could sink me to the depths, so I don't dare argue with him now. I rely on his stronger strokes to keep us afloat and carry us toward the very boat I just escaped moments ago. I don't make eye contact with Amazon as I wait, shivering, to get back on board.

I am a chastised child, powerless as I'm cast from one tide to another. Yesterday the Sipps. Today the Vault. Tomorrow the Talons. One moment a slave, then an advisor, a kept woman, a captive, and now...now what? What is it that this gang leader wants from me really?

"Gave me a chance to demonstrate my prowess in the water." I rasp sardonically in response to Amazon's apology. "The important thing is that you got her here. You're as good as your word, Amazon." I push Helix up into the Rafter's arms and then pull myself over the edge of the bass boat, thanking the Gray Wing that the draft is low and it doesn't take me the effort it would on larger vessels. I'm still sore from the day's earlier adventures.

I direct Amazon to take us in to the jetty so I can give her the earned payment. "You must be quite talented or you have fortune favoring you, Amazon. Or both. And you do quick work. Like a Talon."

"I'll make you a deal Madam, you rest and focus on healing and I'll tell you about the last couple days." I speak to her in a tone just louder than a whisper. A feeble attempt at trying to be calm and collected when I'm still terrified something will happen to her. I set her down as gently as I can on a couch. I go about placing balled-up pieces of fabric and what cushions I can find to keep her in a position that is both comfortable and supportive.

Meanwhile, I begin recounting the events since that night with Canary and Blue Light in the Tower. The attempt on Princy's life. What Kamae said about, "knowing Princy's days were numbered" and some sort of connection between them and Lucius. I go on about how the Talons have been willing to provide me space and hospitality. I even mention the young girl down the hallway, Aloe, and how I'm trying to find a way to treat her - both as a means of saying thanks and out of necessity for the time she has left.

I pause occasionally to give her time to process what I'm saying, and see if she has any questions.

Litch talks about how Amazon must have talent or luck on her side, and I bite my tongue with chattering teeth to keep myself from pointing out that what she has are big guns and bigger explosives. I hug my arms around myself and try to make myself small. I put myself on display with Wells, a visible and alluring presence, and it didn't end well. Now, I want nothing more than to disappear.

When we reach the docks and I see the woman bleeding all over before she's carried away by some Talon I don't recognize, it puts a knot in my stomach. What am I getting into now?

It's enough to give me a modicum of bravery again, enough to look at Amazon and ask, "Wells and Lucky. Did you kill them?" I consider another second before I add, "Nuport?" I want to add Standish and Clarissa too, anyone else in that room when the world exploded, but my boldness is a candle in the storm, snuffed out the moment it's exposed to the storm outside.

I don't respond to Amazon's assertion that the other Rafter's are on Amazon's level of competency. Loyal to the core. I wonder if they return her devotion? It shouldn't matter to me, but I feel a bit of remorse that Amazon has chosen to live amongst those gutter roaches. She could be so much more, live...and perhaps die for so much more. She makes an odd parallel to Helix. Another woman who has so much more potential and purpose. One at a time, old man. Let's not get greedy.

The pair speak about Nuport and I cannot but hope that the bounty hunter took out the former Talon. Perhaps it's uncharitable of me to wish for an end to my regret. It's not the kind of death I had in mind when I stayed her execution, but I doubt that she will ever obtain a meaningful end. I should stop wishing for such. So Helix was with both Lucky and one of the Vaulters. Might they come to look for her? Best be prepared for that eventuality.

I step out onto the dock and reach for a mooring line to tie up the boat. Then I reach back down toward Helix, offering my hand for support. "Don't mind the blood, lass. Our physick was tending to some of our wounded. It looks worse than it is." I retrieve my hat and coat, placing the latte garment around her thin, shivering frame. "Let's get you inside for a change of clothes and a hot meal, eh?"

Amazon answers about the others in a way that tells me she absolutely would have killed them, if that had been the goal. She reminds me of Mikkie that way, only his is a holy mission and hers is...pure opportunism I would guess.

I look at Litch's hand for a moment before I take it and get out of the boat. Once on the dock, I hold his coat around me, shivering and uncertain. His reassurances about the blood aren't as effective as he might wish, but I nod anyway.

"Okay." But I'm thinking about the clothes. My backpack is with the Sipps, the rest of my things still at my apartment, and once again, I'm stuck with a strange new gang with nothing but the clothes on my back. I'm fortunate I got my scalpels past Verifi at the docks, or I'd be weaponless again too.

Syd,

Parker is quiet while you share all that you've been through. She had no idea what had transpired while she was away and she seems dismayed to know you've left. When you mention Lucius, she seems surprised at first, but then you notice that perhaps she had her suspicions. She asks to make sure Princy is well again, just to make sure. The revelation about Kamae's prediction for her husband shocks her, brings tears to her eyes, and makes her seem hopeless. She barely hears the news about Aloe because she's so worried about her own family. Suddenly, she asks after Paisley, begging you to check on her.

What do you do?

"I'm sorry I can't do more." I apologize as I finish the recounting of events. It's hard not to read her worry and wonder as disappointment. Then she mentions Paisley. Of course, I absolutely need to check on Paisley. "At once Madam."

I rush through the halls to track Paisley down.

Merlin hastens over to me even before I beckon him. "As agreed upon." I say to Amazon, taking the box from Merlin's hands and transferring it to the Rafter's possession. "Thank you again for fulfilling your end of our bargain. May the Gray Wing continue to show favor upon you."

I watch as Litch pays for my delivery, a sense of righteous indignation rising up in my chest, momentarily chasing away the cold. I was about to trade myself for a ship and here Litch is, purchasing me with a rusty tackle box? It doesn't matter what's inside. It could be filled to the brim with jingle, or cake, or promises of favors, and it still wouldn't compare to what Wells was willing to pay.

I find myself scowling at the trinket, part of me wondering if I shouldn't have just let myself sink to the depths out there in the water.

I hold my tongue and wait though, unwilling to risk whatever temporary safety I've gained here.

I catch the glower that evolves from misery to disgust on Helix's face. My eyes flicker from her to the box as my mind pieces together what her glare might mean. Ah, perhaps that was indelicate. Not to worry girl. You are worth more to me than the keepsakes of a half-woman. Aloud, I say nothing. For what would be the point in carping about it?

I turn away from Amazon. She told me that the lockbox was what she was really after. If she wants to haggle about her old boat - which is a piece of floating dren compared with the vessel she's currently piloting - she can negotiate with Merlin. With one hand guiding Helix, i gesture toward the main door with the other. "Come." I offer. "Let's get you inside. I'll show you to your rooms. We'll need some time to prepare your own chambers - if that's to your preference. For now, you can stay with my girls."

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.

Peace is my apartment after a long shift at the Belly, my door locked, a hot bath before bed.

I haven't known peace since Kiwi died, and I won't know peace here either. I don't respond though, slipping around behind the curtain and sinking onto the bed where I gather the blanket up around my wet clothes like it might offer me more protection than a whole gang of Talons could.

"Is it you?" I ask the Whispers. "Are you the one whispering in Litch's ear too?"

Helix,

"Nononono," a Whisper rattles off quickly. "Never ever, Helix. Never ever."

"The Gray Wing is our mortal enemy. And yours as well," a flat-toned Whisper states with unwavering clarity.

"They will eat your mind, Helix!" a Whisper says with a snicker as if the process would amuse them.

Hard Strike's voice cuts off the others. "Take what he promises now, worm your way into their good graces. Then, you will strike at their wicked heart."

I depart the girl's chambers and head immediately toward the armory where Kestrel is cleaning and storing the weapons. I enter the storeroom, walking past large, tube-like apparatuses that Jackdaw has recently procured: new, powerful weapons to install on our skis. I knock on the entrance frame so she knows I'm there. "Well, we finally have her, Kes. I have to say, now that I have her, I'm not sure what to do first. How do I persuade her that service to the Gray Wing is in her...well, all of our best interest? Especially when she's..."I finally allow myself to sigh deeply, closing my eyes. "Honestly, she's as savvy as Zephyr, but with Plover's ability to give you a whopping guilt-trip."

The way Hard Strike’s voice cuts off the other Whispers with such certainty and precision sends a chill down my back. She was an intimidating leader in life, and now I have the burden of carrying her in death. It’s an eerie thought. I wonder if, in time, she will become as deranged and maniacal as some of the other Whispers are. Is that the natural course when a soul is tethered to this terrestrial plane? Or just when it’s tethered to me?

I huddle a little deeper under my blanket — the Talon’s "I don’t want to get into a war with a…" I hesitate, unsure what to call the Gray Wing. I exhale moving on to the more practical part of their proclamation. "I have to use what I can for now though. To survive."

I steel myself then stand and move back around the sad little curtain to ask Zephyr. "Your father said you might have some clothes I could borrow?"

"Your mother was hurt very seriously, but she is very, very strong."

I look over at Shrike as she stays nearby continuing to monitor Paisley. Though the thought is fleeting, I muse for a moment about how someone so strong and hardened on the outside - her way with children, both Aloe and Paisley, is remarkable.

"These are my new friends. Miss Shrike here and Miss Plover working over there behind the counter. Do you think you can help them in here while I go check on the other Talons?"

I need to talk to one of the Talons to see about an express trip to the Fountains. I now have two people depending on a safe transfusion here soon.

I catch the shirt, then consider her question. If I’m really not here to be a warrior or a servant, if I’m supposed to find some kind of ease here, then there’s only one answer. "A skirt will do."

I'm peeling my wet dress off my body when Zephyr's voice comes from the other side of the curtain. I hesitate as a spike of sorrow and guilt jolts through me. In all the chaos and unexpectedness of arriving here, I'd forgotten the secret that came out in Kiwi's last moments.

"Yeah," I answer softly, recovering enough to keep changing, stripping out of my wet dress and slipping into the dry clothes from Zephyr. "But aren't you all chasing death anyway?" I ask, tone calm rather than accusatory. "Isn't that the point?" I find a spot to hang my dress to dry, then step out from behind the curtain, lingering near it without moving closer to her.

Syd,

You leave Paisley with Shrike and go looking for someone to take you to The Fountain and end up standing just outside the open door into Zephyr's room. Helix is there - in one of Zeph's shirts and a cute black skirt. They're talking about the Gray Wing and Kiwi.

Helix,

Zephyr doesn't see Syd, but you sense his arrival in the hall.

What do you do?

My lips tighten when she blames Nuport, but then I remember how the Whispers told her to do it. If the Whispers and the Gray Wing are truly opposing forces, then it makes sense that they'd have opposing directives too.

"It's not her fault," I say, defensive. "She didn't have a choice." The Whispers are too strong. Or perhaps it's that Nuport was too weak; I can't be that weak. "If your mom wanted Kiwi to live, maybe she shouldn't have abandoned him in the first place."

I sense the other Talon, one I don't immediately recognize in the hall, and I draw back, looking away from Zephyr and pulling back the curtain from around my bed and busying myself with needlessly arranging the blanket and pillow. I might be able to go up against one Talon, but not two. I'm not here for a sermon.

I give a grunt at Kestrel's analysis, acknowledging her expertise on such matters. "Maybe I should have you teach her the Gray Wing One-On-One course." I quip, but half-hoping she acquiesces. I turn back to the new weaponry, running a hand over the metallic surfaces. "Did Jackdaw get these? Or is this Merlin's doing?"

I tap gently on the ajar door to Zephyr's room five times, then in a quiet but clear voice call out, "Miss Zephyr, may I have a word?"

I grunt again, though this time with interest. These things do look like they make a racket, but I'm not sure I agree with Kestrel's assertion that they carry no substance. They look like they could be rather useful and surprisingly effective. Just like Jack. "Yesterday, I would have agreed with you wholeheartedly. But today? Did you see the way he looked after her when we returned from the Ren? He looked like he actually cares about her. I've never seen him drop his bombastic nature for even a second, but today he did...for her."

I stiffen at the suggestion of treatment considering how the last brush with medical exams went.

"Luckily, no," I answer, turning from my bed to face them, studying Syd with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "I managed to survive the window exploding and being carried off by a bionic woman without getting hurt." I look at Syd. "Who did they send to kidnap you?"

"I'm sorry Miss Helix, I'm not quite understanding." It's hard to tell if Helix is joking or not. "I'm moreso finding refuge here at the moment. Someone is trying to kill my... family, and I'm trying to prevent that from happening. Since home isn't exactly welcoming at the moment Litch has offered to let me stay here for a while. Zephyr and the other Talons have been nothing but welcoming."

As I look Helix over I can see signs of exhaustion setting in - it has probably been a while since she has had a decent rest. "Would you mind if I went to make you an herbal drink, Miss Helix? Just something to aid in resting."

I look over to Zephyr, "The timeline I'm working on to get the supplies for Aloe and others is getting shorter. I want your thoughts on making it over to the Fountain as soon as possible."

I'm not sure that I convinced her, though she does concede that it's possible for Jackdaw to behave in the best interest of another...in theory. "I'm surprised by it myself and I don't quite believe it, uncharitable though the the thought may be." I pause, watching her listen and work, but not giving more. "I'll...have a word with him." I promise her.

I hold Kestrel's gaze as she reveals her part in Plover's personal decision, without response. When she finishes, I nod a few times as I process the new information. "Aye, well...perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps it was a small mercy in the end." And...perhaps I should have reacted then as I am to her now. My response to my mate is more controlled than it was to my daughter. I suppose it comes down to the trust I have in Kestrel's wisdom and experience versus the limited amounts of either with Plover. But I still feel some remorse.

"Do you think there are other ways to serve the Gray Wing than just through death, Kes? Are we fated to follow this current where it takes us...or this there another way?"

Syd's response raises suspicions in me. The way he speaks, his offer of an "herbal drink," the manner in which he stands there so straight and attentive...he's not from this world - the world of Talons and Sipps and Boaters and Bellies. Someone trying to kill his family is the only part of him I could relate to, except I don't have a family either.

When Zephyr declines to leave with him, I frown. "I don't need a babysitter." My gaze shifts to Syd. "Or tea." I pause processing his presentation and his perspective on my captors. "If the Talons are so welcoming, why isn't your family here with you safe and sound?" I look between Syd and Zephyr, expecting that either of them might answer.

Helix's response startles me, "I didn't mean to offend," I begin, but then she asks why the family isn't here, and my mind flashes back to the sanguine scene of Princy on the floor.

Because I wasn't smart enough.
Fast enough.
Strong enough.
Enough.
Do they even think of me as family? I look down the hall toward where I left Parker and Paisley.

"I... they're..." I struggle to find the words. "No deficiency of the Talons separates me from them. In fact, by a sheer miracle, some of my family just arrived, one of which still desperately needs some treatment."

For the rest of the Talons, I might be tempted to hide my weaknesses - physical and mental. But not from my Mynah or Kestrel. and Kes is especially adept at reading people. She would know if I was hiding something. "Those lasers really did a number on me." I admit, before adding. "And I'm not young and spry anymore, much as I try to deceive my own body into pushing through the pain." Aging is difficult, especially in our line of work.

I can hear one of the birds croaking in the distance, the stone walls of the old cathedral carrying its call down to us. Mage, most likely. His voice is deeper and almost melancholy, whereas Minstrel's warbling sounds almost joyous. Well named, that pair. Kestrel's comments about our role in this world and the cacophony from Mage makes me think about how close our livelihoods resembles that of our little mascots. Both of us help keep this world clean, free from the detritus that spreads filth and further death.

I move away from my place leaning on the wall and walk over to her. My fingers brush back loose curl away from her cheekbones and I lean down to give her a soft kiss. "It isn't my place to ask for another path. If the Gray Wing wills it, She will reveal it to me. But sometimes even the High Druid needs reassurances from those he loves the most." My hand drops from her face to the small of her back and I pull her in to my body, my lips grazing her jawbone and neckline.

"You're right, Kes. You're always right." I murmur. "I wonder sometimes if Plover might prefer to serve in other ways besides combat. If Edmund...er, Syd wanted to join up with us permanently, I doubt he would choose to fight. That's surely a kind of precedent, right?"

My eyebrows pull together at Syd's stumbled explanation. If his family is here, and hurt, why the hell is he offering me herbal beverages like he has all the time in the world to help? There is something very, very wrong with this man. I just can't put my finger on what it is.

My gaze shifts to Zephyr, flicking momentarily to the bird on her shoulder. I idly wonder if the bird talks to her like the Whispers talk to me, a ridiculous notion but one that I can't keep out of my mind.

I exhale a breath. "A host," I repeat to Zephyr. I look at Syd. "A refugee." I shake my head slightly, at the thoughts in my head more than anything. They seem so confident in who they are, what they're doing. Even if I had those answers for myself, I don't have the luxury to live them out. Instead, I am what I have always been - whatever I need to be to survive.

"Fine," I say softly. "Then why don't you show me around?" I look at Syd. "Good luck with your family." If they die, I'm sure I'll be hearing from them.

I nod at Helix and thank Zephyr for her lead. It still appears that I've upset Helix, but I'm not sure why. Maybe when I see her next she'll be at least more willing to talk. Then again, I consider, it is just as likely she'll be even less willing to speak with me. Still, I have a job to do.

I turn down the hall and head find Javan.

The way the bird watches me makes my mind feel exposed. It’s silly of course, but I can’t shake it. I don’t acknowledge the pretty comment. I’m suspicious that Litch tasked Zephyr with buttering me up just to make me do what they want, so I can’t trust her. I can’t trust any of them. Especially not that Syd guy.

"Animals in general?" I repeat, then I shrug. "They’ve mostly been for eating or for chasing away from my food." I think of my leeches, my pets. I do treasure them, but they’re not so much a luxury as a necessity - a necessity I no longer have unless Litch actually gets my things from the Sipps or finds Pasty Patsy to buy me more. "They’re utility, I guess. What does the bird do for you?" Does he whisper in your head?

I open my mouth to respond when Janelle's knock interposes. "Alright." I accept simply. To Kestrel, I assure. "I don't want to crush her spirits and she does well in looking out for us on the job. I won't mention anything to her." I kiss her forehead and turn towards the door and out into the hall with Janelle. "What do you need from me?"

"Litch is fine." I inform her, though I don't press it. If she's more comfortable using the formal honorific, I'll respond to it. So...she hasn't caught on to Syd's identity. That could prove useful. "My medic is more than competent and will care for your charges. I'd rather get them to a safe and stable condition before moving them."

I pause and look over her face and suit. "Maybe get you cleaned up too." I hold up a hand before she can retort anything about duty before luxury or some-such shite. "You're doing a good job, looking out for their well-being, Janelle. Rest assured that I want them cared for as well." The placating finished, I ask. "I've heard that things are...unstable at the Tower currently. Is it even safe to take your charges back to Princy right now?"

I watch the bird interact with Zephyr as easily as the waves interact with Canary's vessel, but the eerie feeling in my stomach doesn't go away. She may be only boasting about her bird, but the bravado that he easily tracks the Talons sounds like a threat - if he can track them, he can track you too. Don't even try to run away.

I swallow down the feeling and put a hand on my stomach where it sits with quiet, dread-filled weight. I don't answer aloud about being hungry, but I do follow her out. My body feels like it went through a choppy storm. Maybe some food will settle me.

I want to as if Chicago is also as covered by water as it is here. I haven't left this city in over a decade; I don't know how other municipalities are faring. Canary might have an idea. I nod when she mentions the butler again. "I know Edmund, the butler. Who is the advisor who has also absconded? Do you suspect that either of them were involved?"

Somehow, even the sound of the air seems different as I enter the vast open space of the Talons' sanctuary. "Frankly, I'm rather surprised myself. But she's not out of the depths yet, she's going to need blood, and soon. Aloe's short on time too, hard to tell whose clock has less time on it." I stop as I near the bottom of the ramp, near enough to speak comfortably, but no closer to ensure that whatever the men were discussing before would remain between them. "I hate to impose but I need to get to the Fountains to get some supplies as soon as possible. Miss Zephyr recommended I check with you."

"I was with Edmund when one of the Fountaineers attacked him." I divulge, figuring that she'll find out from people at the Towers' docks that Kestrel and I were sighted at the scene. Hiding it from her now holds little value to me. "Chap with slick-backed, black hair who goes by the name of Kamae. They seemed to believe that Edmund was behind the assault on Princy, but I agree with you that it sounds rather farfetched."

I watch Janelle's face for any kind of reaction that she disagrees with my assessment of the butler as I continue. "From what I gather of him, Edmund is a saver of lives, not a taker. The misguided fool even tried to save Kamae's life when they were cut down. Doesn't sound like the actions of a killer." I fix her with a steely gaze. "It's not what I would have done in his shoes."

The steaming bowl of soup and the bit of bread in front of me are nothing compared to the meal I shared with Wells. The conversation there may have been a cocked and loaded gun, but the food was unparalleled, worth risking the bullet between the eyes.

Speaking of between the eyes, the headache that came with the Whispers has gone away, but their silence is unsettling. I shift on my stool and scoop up my spoon, stirring the soup without sampling it. I glare at the birds as they gobble up the goodies Zephyr gives them, then drop my gaze back to my own grist.

"It's been a nightmare I can't escape," I answer finally, lifting the spoon and taking a tentative sip of the soup. I put the spoon back down and level my gaze on her. "Why do you seem so intent on walking through it with me?"

Merlin volunteering to take me to the Fountains takes me by surprise. He is also right about me not having anything to offer. "That's very kind of you Mr. Merlin. And you are right. I have nothing to offer at the moment, though I'm certain when I get back to the Tower that Mr. Princy would be more than able to compensate however possible." As soon as I speak the words it occurs to me, and Merlin is probably already aware, that there is a lot of "if" around my ability to pay for anything right now.

"I must look like a thoddo to all of you." As far as possessions go, I have the clothes on my back, the revolver I took from Blue Light, and the knife I carry under my vest, in addition to the handful of tips I was able to collect off tables at Poseidon's Belly last night. The gun I was hoping to use to avenge Princy's attempted murder, but it may be better off in the hands of one of the Talons. Or at the bottom of the sea. And even though the knife is likely valuable, it is more of a sentimental item to me than anything else. Still, if I can't save Aloe and Parker I fear I'll be unwelcome here in addition to being unable to return to the Tower. The only things I have, these relationships, teeter on the precipice of hope, and utter despair.

"I have nothing." I quietly repeat, more to myself than anyone else.

The silence of the Whispers is a pause, I suppose, but is it a pause with purpose? Am I just a prisoner, separated from my power, or is this peace a present? A moment to regroup and come back stronger?

I pick at my bread, pulling crumbs apart and tossing them casually into my bowl. Even without the Whispers, Hard Strike's edict echoes in my head - worm your way into their good graces. Then, you will strike at their wicked heart.

I bring my gaze up to Zephyr and for a moment, I can see her heart there, vulnerable and beating, open to worms or leeches or snakes. Maybe I am all three.

"I was this close to securing myself a place in the Vault." I hold up my hand, fingers pinched almost together. "A life of luxury and security." I don't mention how it was all spiraling out of control before Amazon showed up. Instead, I pick up my spoon again and stir the bread crumbs into my soup. "I'm never going to get another chance at that now." And Lucky's never going to trust me again either. I shake my head. "It doesn't feel like an escape. It feels like a loss."

I stroke my chin, feeling the sharp stubble beginning to push through the follicles. I ponder her idea. Jackdaw springs instantly to my mind, but he doesn't always carry a gentle touch. He's a deal-maker, not a diplomat. I think we might need the latter in dealing with the Tower. We don't want Princy to think that we are holding his women hostage. Of course we expect to be paid for the safe delivery of his family and Janelle, but that's a given. We aren't brutes like the other flotsam that call themselves gangs.

But who to send instead? Why only send one person? There's safety in numbers and I can utilize the strengths of two birds to deliver one stone. "None taken. I'll send a couple of my Talons to deliver this piece. Whom should they ask for?"

"Oh, I see." I reach out to the necklace, bringing my fingers around behind it to study it, but not yet grasping it. I look from the necklace back to Janelle's face. With my other hand, I press down on top of her own so that I'm holding both the jewelry and her hand in my own. "It is not necessary. We will deliver the message, and you can do something for me in the future. Loyal, reliable people are hard to find in our city." I let go of her hand and leave the necklace in her possession.

"Come, let us go find our messengers." I intend to send Jackdaw - I promised Kestrel I would speak to him as well - but I want Mynah to be the one to hear the message from Janelle, and take the lead in delivering it to the Tower.

Saved me? These people are all crazy if they think they're the heroes in this story. Of course, I knew that much already. Look at their leader.

I sip a little more soup then answer softly, "It would have been a very pretty cage." I look up, meeting her eyes and I find myself reaching for the Whispers, wanting to expose her mind to me so I'm not the vulnerable one here anymore. My eyes narrow as I tilt my head to the side, studying her closely and continuing in a soft whisper, "Maybe you don't know what it's like trying to survive alone."

I pause as I consider Merlin's words. "Thank you." I manage to say, his wisdom transmuting my caution to confidence. Now, let's go get some sterile syringes and tubing - I almost say out loud, but just walk alongside the weathered Talon.

Litch,
You lead Janelle through The Roost until you find Jackdaw, who happens to be in the armory with Plover showing off the "frelling huge rockets" to her. Kestrel isn't here - she probably found an excuse to leave when Jackdaw came in. Jackdaw is telling Plover the story of how he "landed" the best deal the Talons have ever seen as you walk in. He spreads his hands and grins, inviting you in for the story.

You've heard it.

What do you do?

Helix,

The vision is shared more in your eyes than your ears. The whispers don't steal her secrets to give to you this time. Perhaps it's this Gray Wing sharing knowledge?

You see a day you've only heard about but from Zephyr's point of view. A younger girl, almost out of her teens, watches as Harpy drowns Condor, screaming at him that he will see, he will see. She stands by the water's edge, begging Harpy to stop. Merlin shoves her aside and grabs Harpy away, but it's too late - Condor is dead. You hear Zephyr's sobs in your own lungs before you're pulled away from that moment.

What do you do?

It's strange, seeing this event from Zephyr's eyes. I'm not sure if it's because I've seen it only from Nuport's perspective before, or if it's the Gray Wing's touch that seems so foreign.

After a moment of adjusting and swallowing down the sobs that somehow have tightened my chest even though they weren't my own, I continue softly, answering my own musing aloud, "No. You don't know what it's like trying to survive alone. Even on your worst day, you had Merlin there to step in and stop Nuport when you couldn't. Even if it was too late."

It irritates me to have searched throughout the Roost, only to come full circle and find Jackdaw in the room I had started outside of. Not wanting to look like a fool, towing Janelle around the entire building fruitlessly hunting for Jack, we had stopped in the mechanical hangar so I could inform Mynah of the mission and so that the body guard could give her the message to deliver to Princy's people. I left the two conversing to continue my search.

I push my pique aside, along with Jack's story. "Later, Jack. I've got another use for your skills just now. I need you to go with Mynah to deliver a message to Princy. He needs to know we have his girls so we can get our take. Think you have the energy for another excursion?" I challenge lightly.

Syd,
As soon as Merlin points her out, you hear a shrill whistle and see Canary waving.

She calls it an offer the same way Litch called me a guest. These people talk like they didn't snatch me out of a vault and carry me away, hiding me here like a coin deep in the pocket of a pirate.

My lips tighten and I nibble on a bit more of bread before I speak again. "You really think you mean that, don't you? That you're offering me some kind of...community here."

At the sight of the Refuge, and the yellow slicker on board, I feel a wave of relief wash over me. I should probably feel more on edge than I do, considering the events that transpired the last time we were together. A smile spreads across my face and I say to Merlin, "I was looking forward to learning a thing or two from you, but a raincheck may be in order." I wave back toward Canary, and motion in a way that I hope beckons her and the Refuge closer.

I watch as the gentle, mid-morning waves lap against the Refuge as it slowly draws closer. Admiring how Canary effortlessly and masterfully goes about controlling her ship, and whisper to Merlin, "Is the Grey Wing good?" It seems childish as the words tumble from my mouth, but the inquiry is genuine.

Litch,
Jackdaw, always an easy mark on his pride, takes the bait and heads off. He does squeeze Plover's shoulder and gives her a smile before he disappears, leaving you with Plover in the armory. She realizes she's alone with you and mumbles an excuse about some work that needs to be done.

What do you do?

I hold out my arm to rest on her shoulder as she starts to turn away. I don't use any force to stop her, merely touching her to make her pause. "Your mother told me that she helped you, Plo." I say, replacing Litch the High Druid with Litch the father in this moment. "It still makes me sad, but...your mother is wise and you were right to trust her. I am sorry that I didn't use more patience and understanding the other day. You are brave and true, girl." I repeat the complimentary traits Kestrel used for her earlier. "And you are more precious to me than I think you sometimes believe."

Zephyr seems so sincere, it's hard to remain skeptical. Of course, a sincere death cult apostate is still a death cult apostate and that cannot be understated.

Still, when I move that to the side, all that remains is a daughter wanting to make her father proud. It's not a feeling I can relate to, but it's one I can imagine. I don't want to be the reason she fails him, at least not until it has a more lucrative reward for me to accompany it.

I find myself looking into the black beady eyes of the bird again. "It does feel weird," I murmur. I bring my gaze back to Zephyr. "Why do you think the Gray Wing didn't stop Harpy that day? Are you afraid it might happen again?"

I pull her into my arms and hold her, gently saying. "Even if you do, I'll be here to talk to you. Guide you to making the decisions you think are best, daughter." I rock her gently in my arms for a minute, then hold her back so I can look into her face. "Jack may be the wrong guy...and he may not be. I see the way he treats you and I cannot fault his tenderness. But...well, you know his tendencies as well as the rest of us. Your mother doesn't approve, of course, but that's a tough bar to pass." I chuckle, knowing that Plover is all too aware of Kestrel's high standards in everything we do.

"Now, how are the women from the Towers faring? Did Syd get them all patched?"

I purse my lips, hesitant to reveal my true emotions, but then I have to do something to gain trust here, traction for trials to come. "If you had asked me a few weeks ago what comes after death," I say just as softly, "I would have said nothing. But since Kiwi...I'm not sure I believe that anymore." I finish the last of my soup and bring my bowl up to the sink beside her. "What does the Gray Wing promise after death?"

I have to intentionally keep myself from giving her a sharp look so as to not undo the moment we just shared. My brows knit together and my mouth twists. "Alone? Or did Merlin accompany him?" I hope it was Merlin and not Javan. The boy is brave and skilled, but lacks finesse and occasionally discernment. "I suppose we can pray that the Gray Wing gives him success and he's able to find the right medicine. Would you like to join me in prayer daughter?"

My instinct is to agree with her. It's not worth chasing. I know exactly where I will end up when I die - I'll become one of the Whispers, caught in the cacophony they create, compelled to cripple the next keeper of the maelstrom just like they do me.

But I push that instinct aside and instead offer, "If it is a dream, then it's one worth chasing." I take a step back from her, giving her a little space. If the Gray Wing leads these people, and if the Gray Wing opposes the Whispers, then there's only one thing I can do. If I'm going to be trapped by my enemy, I should at least know them. "Do you think...your father would introduce me to the Gray Wing? Or..." I struggle to find the right words, words they'd use. "Teach me to...commune with...them?"

I am disappointed, but not surprised that she dodges the invitation to join me as I commune with the Gray Wing. The last ritual with Mynah didn't go as well as I had hoped and Plover has never been comfortable with the intensity of the rite. Joining me in prayer is always an invitation, never a demand. At least, that's how I have chosen to approach it.

She mentions that Syd left with Canary and it makes me ponder what the mariner was doing out this way. Was she hunting for him? Or for Helix? Curious...and unexpected. "Mmm." I grunt in reply. "Well, he's in good hands then." I clear my throat and begin to turn towards the door. "If you change your mind, Plo, you know where to find me." I say, implying that I believe her sidestep to be a declination. I leave the armory and head down the hall toward the central staircase that leads to my chambers.

For all the fear of what asking for this may mean, I can’t deny that seeing Zephyr smile warms my chest. I don’t return it though even as I nod. "Yes." Know thine enemy. I can only hope the enemy won’t eat my mind like the Whispers warned.

Litch,

You're in your chambers when you hear a knock. Zephyr brings Helix to see you. What do your chambers look like?

Helix,

Zephyr takes you through the Roost, asking around for her father. Plover, who gives you a nervous smile, tells Zeph that he's "in communion", so Zephyr hustles with you to see him. How do you enter this place of holiness?

I climb the circular staircase that to the space underneath the old church's main circular cupola. My father and his elder Talons built both the stairs and the flooring underneath the dome to serve as both a chancel and a parish, of sorts. While all of the glass windows remain intact, all but one are covered by simple cloth tapestries. Charcoal sheets of cotton with a single, faded silver wing adoring the center of each. All of them are attached to rope pulleys to raise and lower the tapestries, but I prefer the gloom. It limits distractions. The one left open filters light down to the steel and copper brazier I use for offerings. Appropriate, I think. Near the alter are four candelabras, each holding six candles, though I rarely light all of them for my prayer rituals. Candles are rare and costly.

I push aside another heavy tapestry that hangs over the entrance to the chamber. My canopy bed lies on the opposite side from the altar, adorned with Mage's post-molt feathers, though the bird himself is not currently present. Minstrel rarely flies up to this loft, his brother choosing this patch as his personal territory. Alongside both sides of the bed are mismatching nightstands. Simple, minimal pieces of furniture. Covering the near entirety of the wood-planked floor is a a large rug that presents the only vibrant colors in this space with an ornate pattern of reds, golds, and bits of purple.

I have just removed my hat and set it down atop the table near my bed when I hear two pairs of steps ascending the stairs behind me. I busy myself with gathering implements for my ritual. Expecting Plover and perhaps Kestrel, I greet them with my back turned to the entrance. "I'm glad you've come to join me daughter. Both of you are most welcome."

The sailors at the Belly used to tell stories of what it felt like to sail into a storm, the stillness before the first whip of the wind. That is the feeling I get when I step into the tapestry-covered room behind Zephyr: a stillness portending a storm.

Litch greeting us both with his back still turned sends a shiver across my skin. Did the Gray Wing warn him I was coming just like the Whispers secret the future to me? I swallow as I move into the space, enveloped by the gloom of the storm clouds shielding out most of the light. I've never been a religious person, so I don't know if there are rituals I should follow, but the safest course seems to be respect at least, and silence is safest there, so I wait, quiet.

Neither person responds to me, but waits in silence. Or perhaps reverence. After I've gathered the materials for the prayer ritual, I finally turn around. I see Zephyr first and am only mildly surprised to see her instead of Plover. I cannot hide my surprise or curiosity when I see her companion. "Helix. Is there something that you need?" I start to set the implements down on the bed in order to properly see to the requests of my guest.

My heart squeezes at Litch’s acknowledgement. I glance at Zephyr as if she might answer for me before realizing how weak that makes me seem. I look back to Litch. "I thought that if I’m here for the reasons you say…then I should meet the Gray Wing myself. Only…I don’t know how."

Inwardly, I'm overjoyed that the promising young girl is willing, if perhaps not enthusiastic to speak with the Gray Wing. I try not to let my excitement show beyond more than a small grin - I don't want to make her uncomfortable taking this step. "Alright. I was about to speak to her myself. Come," I beckon her to follow me to the altar where I set the items in my arms on the ground next to the brazier and begin to light a fire in it's basin. "Zephyr, why don't you join us?" I encourage my daughter.

It doesn't take long to light the fire. I grab a candle from the nearest candelabra and use it to light three more. Next, I take out paper infused with oil and incense and set it in the brazier. As the smoke begins to curl, I pull out my knife and turn first to Helix. "This is your first time. I do not expect you to give anything to the Gray Wing but your curiosity and willing spirit. When I pray, I have found that my connection is stronger when I give something her something precious to me." With practiced ease, I prick the end of my thumb-tip until I draw blood. "And what could be more precious than my own life's essence?" I let the blood fall into the brazier, to mix with smoke and flame. "The feather," I smile, holding up the black plume. "Is just an extra touch. She appreciates the small bit of symbolism, I think."

I watch with quiet consternation as Litch moves through the motions in this monastery, moving up to watch the flame in the brazier licking at the paper, singeing the edges increasingly black. When he turns to me, knife in hand, I stiffen, suddenly certain I've settled myself in the seat of a sinister snare, but he only sacrifices of himself and I let out a quiet breath. He is truly unwell in the head, but he did save me once at the Belly. Why harm me now?

Not a second later, I find myself reaching for the knife. In for a wine, in for a whiskey. I cut the fleshy part of my hand below my thumb and wait for enough blood to well that when I turn my hand over the brazier, a viscous drop falls to the flame.

"Only one chance for a first impression," I say, handing the knife back to him.

I nod in approval of Helix's willingness to jump in with both feet. "Indeed." Zephyr is here as a witness and secondary participant, so I don't offer her the knife, instead wiping it off with a cloth and tucking it into the folds of my duster. I then take Helix's hand and hold it above the fire, giving it a slight shake to make the blood drop into the flames. "Don't be alarmed. My voice may sound...different for a little bit."

I start to murmur my low, rumbling chant, still holding her hand in my own, her blood slithering down my wrist in a slow trickle. I prepare to open my soul and guide her to the ethereal realm of the Gray Wing. I hear Minstrel's higher-pitched croaking chortle from Zephyr's shoulder. Nice touch, bird. I add my own voice his with a low-toned, croaking vibrato, then breathe out slowly, emptying myself so that I may be filled with her greater essence. "Gray Wing above. Enlighten the path before us. I bring before you the Chosen, the Voice of the Tempest you have bade me find for your blessing."

Litch, your vision pulls in the others in the room and you all open your brains to the Gray Wing.

The three of you are one person staring out across the wine-dark sea with the crumbling buildings jutting up like the fingers of a drowning person. To the west is a long trail of dead bodies, all bobbing in the water like human-sized stepstones. In the distance, away from the sun, is a miasma of despair, a library of suffering. To the east is the rising sun, burning bright, scouring away sin and pain and weakness. It is blinding and purifying. It is destiny. It is heaven. There are no bodies left in a trail to clamber over, it can only be reached by wings.

After the vision ends, the three of you come back to your senses in the chamber

What do you do?

It can mean only one thing - the path to glory is paved by the bodies of the dead. If I carry their voices in my head, am I the last corpse to be left behind in the destruction? Or am I the only one who can move us beyond the lost?

Or am I the one who kills everyone and leaves them to bloat in the darkness?

I push the fear out of my face, aiming for a more placid countenance as I take a step back from the brazier and look at Litch. I wonder if the sea of bodies is a symbol of worship in his eyes.

"I don't understand," I say softly. Maybe I'm too stupid to understand.

This is the first vision where I have been conscious of melding with another person, but the augury is similar to others I have been shown. Helix admits to not understanding, while I am struck by the clarity of meaning. Prior displays have been more cryptic, a mystery to puzzle out. This presentation is remarkably clear. However, I don't want to discourage her. Had I not been given the gifts of divine sight many times previously, I too might struggle to understand the greater picture.

"The Gray Wing doesn't often give us a straightforward path to follow, Helix. She wants us to be thoughtful in the process of interpretation. Tell me, what do you think it might mean? Do not fear whether you are right or wrong in your own interpretation, for the journey of discovery is often more rewarding than the destination."

Litch speaks as if this is a mere exercise, a theoretical exploration, not a vision we all shared mired in the smoke of this room and the mirage of what might be.

I press my fingertips against my thumbs, thinking. I don't want to tell him my true thoughts - that I might be the cause of the destruction we saw - so instead I think of what Zephyr told me earlier about what the Gray Wing promises and offer, "That...there is peace after death."

I feel stupid even saying it aloud. Kiwi almost found happiness, but I pulled him back. Hard Strike lives with the Whispers now, battling with them for the chance to be heard. None of it seems peaceful because none of it seems safe.

I think the real truth of it all might be that this is peace after my death, when the Whispers have no sane place left to live. If I were gone, would the world renew to calmer waters and sunnier skies?

It's a good response, if mayhap the obvious answer. "The Gray Wing shows us the same vision, yet it may have three different meanings. The floating bodies might represent the corpses of my fallen foes. The putrid vermin who despoil our home with their despotism, as well as worthy rivals. But to you, it might have an entirely different meaning. Old burdens, memories full of sorrow. For Zephyr," I turn back to my daughter to place a hand on her shoulder, pulling her closer to me. "Perhaps it is both." I murmur, looking into her eyes with a melancholic gaze, before turning back to our guest.

"Our world suffers. Suffering and despair are all around us, as we have just seen. But...there is hope. A chance for renewal, for transformation. I believe that the Gray Wing wants to use each of us to achieve that state, not just in the afterlife, but here and now. And..." I trail off, not sure how best to proceed. "Well, she led you to us for a reason, Helix. None of it may be possible without you."

Litch's litany of interpretations are stones in my chest, each possibility a fear and a burden. I shouldn't give credence to any of it. These people are as crazy as the bird they expelled from their midst, and maybe one day Harpy will return to replace Litch as their leader, but it won't be me. I can't be the lynchpin upon which the whole hope of the world resides. I barely have enough hope to keep myself above water.

Suddenly the smoke in the air seems too heavy, the tapestries closing in on us, the space too small and growing smaller. When was the last time I took a full breath? Maybe I am already drowning. "I. Need some air." I turn and head quickly out of the room, backtracking our path and hunting for the nearest escape outside, desperate to feel the wind on my face again.

I'm not taken aback at Helix's sudden departure. The magnitude of the potential meanings of the vision - at least how I understand them - would feel crippling to just about anyone. Which is why she needs a guiding wing. I inhale deeply of the scented air, reveling in the afterglow of the Gray Wing's touch upon my mind and soul. "Do you think my interpretations accurate, daughter? What more did you see that I missed?" I query Zephyr.

I nod at her assessment. I tried to temper my passion, but I also know that I tend to wax poetic in my religious soliloquies. "Aye, perhaps it was too much for the first time. No, let her be for now." I don't want Helix to feel like a rogue sheep that needs shepherding. I need, well want is more accurate, her to choose this path. "Thank you for showing her around, Z. You're free to do as you please for the rest of the evening."

Litch,

Zephyr thanks you for giving her the night off and informs you she'll be "heading out" for a bit and might take Javan or Plo with her before she leaves you alone in the chamber.

What do you do?

Helix,

You rush down the hall away from Litch and his daughter, following your nose to the water, finding your way to the docks where jet skis and a large Ravager boat bob in the water. The bearded guy, maybe Merle or something? is working on a jet ski, but he doesn't notice you coming outside. The Whispers immediately reach you on the wind, warning you to leave, right away, to flee while you can.

What do you do?

Alone, at last, I center myself by breathing and humming. The aroma of incense is mild now, but still lingers, masking the ever-present smell of damp clothing. I can hear the sounds of activity below and outside, but it's muffled and easy to ignore. My eyes, having adjusted to the gloom, pick up the bobbing movement of Mage, strutting around on the rug, before he croaks and flies over to perch on my shoulder. "Hello, my friend." I greet him. He must have arrived shortly after Zephyr departed. "You missed the excitement."

I caress his breast plumage lightly and he warbles in reply, almost like a cat purring. I chuckle at his verbal contentment, then cast my eyes over the burning coals in the brazier bowl. "Think She would provide me my own vision, Mage? Would you put in a good word with her for me, friend?"

I walk over to the bed to simply sit and be for a quiet moment.

"I can't!" I answer the Whispers in my head. What would I even do? Steal a boat or a jet ski? Hope it starts? Wait for the Talons to swoop in and scoop me out of my apartment at night, this time with malice instead of just machinations for my future. "I can't," I repeat. "I can't just run," the last bit comes out in a whisper of my own, soft and resigned to this fate. Litch may be unwilling to call me a prisoner, but that won't stop me from seeing the bars all around me.

Suddenly I hear Nuport's voice in my head as if she's standing right next to me: You are the key!

I inhale a sharp breath at the memory, the Whisper, whatever it was. "I am the key," I say to myself as if I'm understanding the words for the first time. But Nuport called herself the door, and what is a key without a door?

My eyes fix on the bearded man. It must be him, the one who took her eye. I am marching down the dock toward him before my better senses can subsume my mission.

"Harpy is coming back," I call as I approach. "You're going to have to find a way to live with that."

I cross my arms. "Then you'll have to explain to your beloved prophet how you're the reason he lost the Voice of the Tempest and all hope for the future."

"I accept the situation I'm in," I answer him. "And Litch has enough faith for all the Talons plus me." I take a breath and study him with narrowed eyes. "The question is, are you willing to accept my mantle? To let me be what Litch says I am?"

I feel myself coil when he lumps me in as another "wild young one" here, poised to strike but holding, unsure if this target is worth the poison. The Whispers make my fangs drip in preparation.

"There will be bodies in the water before the end," I say, voice steady and certain. "I don't plan on Harpy or myself being among them, and I'm not afraid to put someone else there instead."

Merlin is an open target, willing and vulnerable even if he is challenging me. I'm not entirely certain I should want to prove anything to him in the long run, but my emotions are swept into the moment so I send the Whispers out along the invisible lines connecting us all, asking them to ferry fruitful facts back to me.

I breathe slowly as the Whispers ferry his secrets back to my ears, inhaling their words like oxygen to clear away the lingering images left by the Gray Wing's visions.

I tilt my head to the side, studying him for a few beats after the Whispers quiet. "Have you even spoken to her after her son died?" I ask. "Or does your fear of exposing your true feelings keep you from comforting the one you love even in her darkest hour?"

It is not a thrill I feel when he relents, but instead a sort of deep satisfaction, a settling in to the rightness of this situation - one in which I know what he cannot deny. It is headier than the smoke in Litch's prayer cave.

"I am the Voice of the Tempest. You cannot expect to invite a storm to live under your roof without it causing a few waves."

I replay what I know of the scene in my head, then ask, "Because Zephyr was watching?"

His admission plants a seed of hope in the darkness of my soul - not for me, but for Nuport.

"Then you won't kill her now either," I answer softly. "All those things are still true." Or they were when I left her. I wonder if Wells' machines stealing the Whispers from her might make her sane enough for Merlin to murder. Thankfully, he doesn't know about that.

I take a step back. "I'll let you finish working on your jet ski now."

Merlin grunts his understanding and gives you a respectful nod before he turns back to his work.

What do you do?

While part of me wants to linger outside where I can get some air, I'm hesitant to stay where Merlin might question me further and putting on pretenses as "the Voice," as good as it felt in the moment, drains me now that I've stepped away from the situation.

I head back inside, intending to go to my sad excuse for a room with its even sadder excuse for privacy, to take a little time alone to rest.

The way Javan starts his invitation as an edict and flips it to an inquiry instead gives me pause as I recalibrate. I'd been prepared to tell him I'd do no such thing, but with an extra moment to consider...if my options are staying trapped here like a prisoner or leaving like a...a Talon? No, that's not what I want, or what'd I'll ever be, but what then? I still don't know. Perhaps Litch would call me a prophet, though I don't know if leaving the Roost supports that claim either.

I realize my own thoughts are louder without the Whispers here to cover them, more distracting, and I still haven't answered Javan.

Whatever it may or may not make me, my options are to either remain and molder or go and breathe some air.

"I'll come along."

Plover and Zephyr both come outside with you and Javan - they all seem eager to get out on their skis. Javan and Plover both offer you a seat on their ski - who do you ride with? The Whispers are eager to have you back outside as well and share secrets about the Talons near you. Who do you want to know about most?

I find myself most curious about Javan. I feel like I have Zephyr pretty well figured out, and maybe it's naive, but I assume Plover is pretty much the same. Javan, though, is a mystery to me and his invitation to this event was a surprise.

Regardless, though, I choose to ride with Plover. I expect she'll be the more tame driver, and if my earlier escape attempt did anything, it was to remind myself just how poor a swimmer I am.

Despite Merlin's presence on the docks, the sibs seem practically giddy as they jog out to their skis. Javan weaves around the older man and leaps from the dock onto his jet ski with a flourish. The ski bobs in the water and Javan laughs while unmooring it. Javan's ski is a sleek, black one, something that would be easy to miss on the water.

Zephyr shakes her head and clucks her tongue at her brother's antics as she mounts her jet ski, which has actual feathers affixed around the handles as if the ski is another of her ravens. She works to untie her ski and zips off into the open water behind her brother with Mage and Minstrel - the ravens - flying above.

Plover's jet ski is a lime-green two-seater.


She takes her time checking it over as her brother and sister zip around, careful to make sure it's in proper working order before she mounts it. She offers you a lifejacket - do you take it?

Watching Javan's approach to his ski makes me certain I chose the right driver, though my eyes follow him as he jets off, still curious about what really drives him. Maybe he is so reckless because he's young, or maybe this death cult has prepared him to meet an early grave.

The way Plover carefully checks her machine gives me the confidence to decline the lifejacket. I'm pretty sure I could count the number of people I've seen wearing one on one hand with mittens on, and all of them were elderly or the child of an overprotective mother. I didn't have a chance to be the second, and I doubt I'll have a chance to be the first either.

"I trust you not to let me drown in the drink," I tell her as I climb on. "Your father would kill you."

Plover's mention of disappointing Litch reminds me of Zephyr earlier and how badly she didn't want to disappoint him either. I can't imagine that being such a big motivator alone, but maybe it's the spell Litch has woven over all the Talons, some Gray Wing magic at work. I can only hope the Whispers will shield me from falling into the same trap.

"Friends is a bit of a strong word," I answer over the wind and the hum of the engine. Hearing his name again makes me think of how I almost called him here to rescue me when I first arrived. I could try again now, if I wanted, but Plover is right - I think Mikkie just has opponents, and I'd hate to see anyone here killed over me. "We've talked before. We have...an understanding."

I wonder how Mikkie would see the Talons through the Whisper's lens of good and evil. Where do they fall? But another question makes its way to my lips. "Who did you hear that from?"

"You're not the only one," I answer drolly. Dakota is a slow server all the time, but she's even slower when she's not high. And without me around...

I banish the thought to the waves behind us, leaving the Belly in the wake. That place, no matter what it gave me, is in the past, and I must keep climbing else I'll fall.

The next time she glances back at me, I nod toward where Javan cuts across the water. "Is he always like that?"

I wonder when I last acted silly for the sheer fun of it. If there was a time, I don't recall it, and if I had the chance now, the dangers would be too great. I'll take stability over silliness.

"She gets mad about him goofing off?"

I'm about to ask if Javan is supposed to be next in line to rule the Talons after Litch when Plover makes her assertion, changing the wind of the conversation and pushing me off course. I blink in surprise, then realize I'm being stupid again.

"I imagine a lot of you might want to impress me, given what your father expects of me." Even Merlin changed his song on the dock when I proved I was the one writing the music.

The question is a set of jaws closing around me. On one side, the potential anger of a sister over a slight to her family. The other, the potential of some sort of romantic relationship within the Talons. Dangerous to say yes, dangerous to say no.

"I have a boyfriend." The words slip out before I can stop them. They feel safest, maybe stupidest, but safest. For now.

As soon as she says his name, I'm cursing myself for not telling her I'm getting over Kiwi still. That would have been safe and smart. I scramble for the next best answer to give. If I hadn't just told her Mikkie wasn't really a friend, perhaps he would have sufficed. At least people would be scared enough to keep their distance - a bad thing were I still working at the Belly, but helpful now. Wells would have been a good option - powerful and well-positioned - if only things hadn't taken such a terrible turn. Now instead of wanting me, he might just want me dead.

"R-Regal," I answer, unwilling to let the question linger for too long. Plover's interest is piqued enough without prolonged silences propelling it further. "Lucky doesn't know," I add quickly, trying to cover my lie already. It makes me wonder how Regal is, after what happened at the Vault. Did Lucky punish him for taking me there? Kill him? Did Amazon? The questions and the way we're floating out here, engine silent, with no way to escape, make me feel vulnerable. Suddenly I wish I'd taken the life jacket.

"Yes, that's him," I answer softly when she describes Regal. I opt not to answer her question about his chest though. "That's...my boyfriend."

I scoot closer to her again when she starts the engine and takes off, grateful to be moving again, but when she names our destination, I wonder if I'd rather stay marooned on our little island answering questions about Regal's chest instead. "I haven't," I answer her, not adding that it always seemed too dangerous, a neutral territory where no one has authority. It's even more intimidating knowing that I carry Hard Strike now too, not knowing how she might react to returning to the place she died.

I reach out to her - and to the Whispers at large, the conglomerate of them always listening as one. "You have."

Aloud, I ask Plover, "What do you do there?"

I definitely chose the correct driver for this little voyage. I watch Zephyr and Javan for a moment then ask, "Do you think they're closer to each other than you because they share a mom?"

Us Bank looms overhead.


Like everything else, it was beaten and cracked by the Second Great Flood. But it stands like a giant obsidian sword, pointed towards the heavens, with its innards open at many points for easy entry. Which is why countless battles have been fought for Us Bank, resulting in short-lived dictators who only fall to the next aggressor until now... when it sits empty except for corpses.

The Whispers are getting louder, Helix. Insistent and eager to see the watery graves.

I don't attempt to speak again as Plover speeds up. Perhaps silence is a better ally anyway.

Silence, though, doesn't last long. The Whispers' chattering almost has my teeth doing the same as we approach the stadium, and the darkness inside pushes at my ribs, squirming for a way out. There's no turning back now, but I fear the Whispers will smother me in their excitement. I remember how Hard Strike silenced them before, her stern leadership cowing them, and, though I fear her as much as they seem to, one voice in my head would be more bearable than hundreds.

"Hard Strike," I ask, filtering through the voices hunting for hers. "Can't you do something?"

They have always been one before - one entity with a thousand voices. Now, though, one has a name. That may be enough, if I can find her. If she is willing.

A bit of the tension between my eyes eases when her voice reaches me. She is terrifying, but it's easier than the cacophony as a whole. "No. That's not it. I want..." I hesitate. If I tell her I just want her to keep the others quiet, will they revolt? Of course, they're in my head. Perhaps they know already. "I thought you could tell me more about what happened. How you died. So Lucky has answers."

Lucky has always seemed so certain that the big ship was his mother's legacy. I wonder now if it's Benson and Hedges who convinced him of that idea, or Wells himself. It certainly wasn't Hard Strike.

Hard Strike asks what game I'm playing and I shake my head in silent answer to her question. Perhaps Plover thinks it's in reaction to my own thoughts about angering her, perhaps she doesn't notice at all.

"A stupid one," I answer. "And I'm losing." It makes no sense to lie to Hard Strike. In life or death, she always gave the impression that she was the sort of woman to cut through even the cleverest facades. "I didn't want the Sipps to suffer, if Lucky killed Wells with the contract on the Merrimack still unpaid. I wanted to settle that debt, THEN give him the name so he could dispatch Wells without the debt involved and free myself at the same time." I frown. "Now neither of us is getting what we wanted."

I have to remind myself that no matter how pointed Hard Strike's questions become, they're better than a thousand chittering Whispers splitting my skull in two. "Because I'm stupid," I answer her. "Because I thought if I brought in someone who could challenge Wells' claim on me, he might finish the deal before he found out how much he wouldn't want me anyway." Before she can prod me for more, I finish, "Once Wells had me, and the ship was no longer a Sipp debt, I was going to tell Lucky so he could kill Wells and I could be free of both of them." Saying it out loud is another stripe of shame on the canvas of my soul. I can almost hear the other Whispers telling me how dumb I am.

The way my heart softens when Hard Strike seems to approve of my actions suddenly makes me understand a little more how badly Zephyr and Plover want to keep from disappointing Litch. If this small taste of approval can be so sweet, I can only imagine how bitter a teaspoon of disappointment would be.

I blink a few times, eyes suddenly stinging. There's no room in the world to be so easily softened. I pull myself back into my body. This is an opportunity, not an ovation. "If you release Lucky from the shame, there would be no war. No threat."

I feel myself physically drawing back as if I could avoid Hard Strike's intense visage pressed into my mind. She explains that the Talons need to get rid of Benson and Hedges, which is a terrifying proposition enough, but then she adds that she expects me to help her take vengeance on Wells in it's like I've jumped back into the cold depths all over again. The air goes out of my lungs and for a moment I don't respond.

"I. Wasn't talking about forgiveness," I finally answer. "I was talking about a lie." I consider her plot again. "If Lucky knows it was Wells who killed you, he won't want to be left out of that. If I tell him it was Benson and Hedges after they're already dead...he can run the gang with a clear conscience."

Plover's nudge brings my blinking attention back to the present and I feel Hard Strike fade with the distraction. "Um. N-no," I answer as I reorient myself to my surroundings. Zephyr and Javan's jet skis seemed so much quieter a moment ago. Were they always so loud?

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my plan to put a damper on sibling night. I'm fine. I just..." Might have to orchestrate multiple murders to get myself out of the mire in which I have become enmeshed. "Maybe I am feeling a little sick."

I barely have time to consider Plover's offer - an impossible choice between taking the joint and risking what happened with Hedges happening again, or not taking it and offending her - before Hard Strike's voice whips across my consciousness like a bolt of lightning.

"That's not what I said!"

I push her back into the sea of Whispers, trying to drown her voice again in their chaos. I'll take the constant senseless chatter over her accusations, but mostly, I just want everything to stop. The Whispers, the waves, the whine of the engines, the wagers against fate I always seem to lose.

"I don't want to get high, I want to go home!"

I feel a stab of guilt when Plover flinches, but she offers what I want and I barely consider her warning before I'm nodding. "I want to go home," I repeat, calm this time, certain. Regardless of where I go now, there will always be danger. I just have to learn how to survive it.

Plover calls out to her sibs that she's taking you by your place. They stop racing and fall in behind her as she leaves Us Bank towards your rinky-dink apartment by Peppering. Do you invite them up or leave them waiting at the dock?

I'd prefer to visit my apartment alone, but Plover giving in to my outburst so easily has made me feel guilty for the whole ride over. They were having fun before I interrupted, but I have never been anything except a gray sky and uneasy waters.

So, when we arrive, I invite them upstairs with me even though four people will be the most I've ever had in the cramped space where I live...where I lived. I sigh softly to myself as I lead the way upstairs.

Javan looks around the dock and makes note of the area, then he casually says he'll hang back by the jet skis. It's obvious he thinks they'd get stolen here if left alone. Zeph and Plo head up with you, unaware of your desire to be alone. Three is crowded, for sure. Plo hangs near the door to take up less space while Zephyr hovers near you, asking questions about your stuff like "Do you want to bring any of this back?" and "Hey, this is a nice dress, why don't you change?" and other busybody stuff.

What do you do?

Being back in my space again sends a pang through my stomach. I find myself touching things in my apartment - the corner of my single bed, the countertop of my kitchenette, the yellow lamp on the table, the clothes in my closet. Some of my favorite pieces are in my backpack with the Sipps still, and only time will tell if Litch will ever get them for me like I asked, but what's left is at least mine. Whatever money I didn't need to survive went to wardrobe, and it's not something I've ever regretted.

I barely acknowledge Zephyr's rain of questions, letting them slide off me with noncommittal hums and shrugs, until I finally hear myself ask, "Do you think you'll live at the Roost forever or do you want to find your own feet outside the shadow of your father's wing?"

Even while I speak, my gaze is fixed on the glowing, bubbling tank against the wall. There are only a few leeches left inside now - another thing lost to the Sipps - and I wonder if they ever resent the safety of their prison.

I tilt my head to the side with interest when Zephyr says she's moving on soon. What plans would the daughter of Litch have for herself?

My attention is diverted by Plover's question though and I nod calmly despite her alarm. "Yes." I lift the lid off the tank and set it off to the side, then reach into the tank and gently scoop one of the wriggling leeches out in my palm, letting the water drain through my fingers until it's just her squirming body left behind. "They're my pets. And surprisingly self-sufficient. They can go weeks without feeding."

Plover runs from the room, slamming the door behind her as if it would protect her.

I raise an eyebrow at Plover as she bolts, slamming the door loudly enough to repay Peppering for at least one of her raucous nights with her lover. When Zephyr approaches, I turn my attention back to the leech, quietly considering her explanation for a moment, then her question. I should tell her the leeches are nothing more than pets, a triviality I allow myself, but I am tired of hiding everything, too tired to lie. "They take the darkness," I answer softly. I turn toward her and take her wrist, turning her palm up so I can dump the squirming leech onto it. I step back and lift the hem of the skirt she lent me, turning my leg to show her the inside of my thigh where I let them feed. "They help keep me...sane."