I'm HALPING! Pt 10 (Patreon)

Part Ten: And For My Next Trick …

[A/N: This chapter commissioned by @Fizzfaldt and beta-read by Lady Columbine of Mystal.]

The Morning of January 4

Hebert Household

Dad looked at both of us intently. “So the Merchants are no longer a factor?”

“Well, no,” I said. “After Zach made Skidmark faceplant all over Director Piggot’s window—and boy, do I wish I had footage of that—we waited for the PRT to come pick up the rest of the capes, then we visited all of their dealers and stash houses. Zach explained politely that he didn’t want them selling drugs to anyone anymore, and they decided to change their ways.”

“My sister says it is very important to be polite when I am talking to people,” Zach contributed. “Also, to speak clearly and make sure that I have their full attention.”

“Do I want to know how he got their full attention?” asked Dad carefully.

I tried to look innocent. From the look on his face, I probably failed. “Well, he was crushing their guns and knives into a steel ball with his bare hands while he spoke to them. And he might have let them see the Endbringer side of him, just a little bit. I mean, they didn’t all wet themselves. Just the ones who were trying to talk the toughest.”

“In that case, I’m not totally surprised that they listened to him,” Dad said dryly. “Zach, you’re an absolute menace, and exactly what Brockton Bay needs right now. And Taylor, of course.”

“Yes,” replied Zach brightly. “Because I am here to help Taylor and keep her happy. If cleaning up Brockton Bay will make her happy, then that is what I will do.”

“Glad to hear it, son.” Dad headed into the living room. “Go ahead and finish breakfast. I’ve got a phone call to make.”

As I picked up a forkful of fried egg, a pensive look came over Zach’s face. From experience, I knew it was a bad idea to let him mull over an idea for too long, so I put the fork down and turned to him. “What is it?”

“Eidolon is my father, but he has repeatedly refused to acknowledge this,” he said slowly. “Your father is not related to me, but he has called me ‘son’. Does he see me as family, or am I misunderstanding the situation?”

Whoo boy. Minefield alert. This was gonna be a doozy. “Dad … knows you’re not related to us, but I know he likes you. Him calling you ‘son’ is his way of accepting you and showing you respect.” I looked carefully at him, trying to judge the way he was taking it. “Does that make sense to you?”

“Yes, Taylor, it does,” Zach said happily. “I am pleased to be accepted into your household. It is good to be called ‘son’, even by someone who is not my father.”

“Good. I’m glad.” I went back to eating my eggs. It had just been a casual word from Dad, but it had made Zach a lot happier. Endbringers, I decided, were weird.

Weird, but nice.

<><>

Mayor Christner

Roy leaned back in his chair with the morning paper, sipping at his coffee as he took in the news articles. It was the usual blend of nothing stories and gang violence, though his eyebrows tracked up toward his hairline as he took in the information that the entire cape membership of the ABB and the Merchants were currently in PRT custody, along with Hookwolf and Cricket.

“Well, that’s new,” he murmured as he paused at another article claiming that Assault had been punched all the way to Boston as a result of an altercation with an unidentified cape. Apparently, the irreverent cape was alive and well, and awaiting transport back to Brockton Bay.

“What was that, Dad?” asked Rory as he continued to inhale breakfast waffles at a rate impossible for anyone but a growing teenager.

“Did you have anything to do with any of this?” Roy asked, sitting forward and folding the paper to show Rory the articles. “Capturing the ABB and the Merchants? Taking down Cricket and Hookwolf? The PRT certainly had a busy day yesterday.” He didn’t bother pointing out the one about Assault; if Rory knew about that one, he’d give with the details without needing to be asked.

“I wasn’t there, but I heard about it,” Rory said. “A lot of weird stuff happened yesterday. Did you see on the news about the Nine being wiped out?”

“Yes, yes, I did.” Roy would forever deny it, but he’d whispered a prayer of thanks that Jack Slash and his murderous bunch would never visit Brockton Bay again. “Wait, are you saying that boy … Zach? That he had something to do with all that?” It didn’t seem possible. The youngster he’d seen on TV didn’t seem capable of going up against Lung and Hookwolf.

“That’s what I heard,” his son maintained. “Gallant swears up and down that Zach’s the one who smacked Assault all the way to Boston, too.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Roy opened the paper again. “I think—”

His phone rang, and he gave the device an irritated look. The caller ID made his frown deepen; there were very few things he wanted to talk about first thing in the morning with Danny Hebert, but that was the name on the screen. On the other hand, he couldn’t just blow the man off without endangering the union vote. The things I do to stay in good with my electorate.

Picking up the phone, he swiped to answer and held it to his ear. “You’ve got Christner.”

“Good morning, Roy.” Danny sounded very pleased with himself, which made Roy all the more cautious. “I’m guessing you’ve heard the good news about the ABB and the Merchants?”

“I have.” Already, Roy thought he knew what was coming next. “Is this going to be another appeal to get Lord’s Port opened up again? Because I—”

“Nope.” Danny was sounding more like the cat with the canary all the time. “I’ve already arranged for that to happen. What I’m calling about is the ferry.”

It was like he’d put his foot out in the dark, expecting a step down, and hit the floor instead. “What about the ferry? The gangs—”

“What gangs, Roy?” Danny wasn’t angry, exactly. Roy had heard him angry, and this wasn’t it. “The Merchants are out of the way, so are the ABB, and the Empire Eighty-Eight doesn’t normally extend this far north. Besides, they’ll be licking their wounds after Hookwolf and Cricket got captured.”

“We both know the Empire Eighty-Eight will expand into the power vacuum,” Roy said. “And that’s not even assuming the capes don’t just bust out of secure holding before the PRT manages to get Hookwolf and Lung into the Birdcage.”

Roy Christner had known Danny for most of his political life, but the union boss’s next words sent chills down his spine. “If the Empire becomes a problem, they’ll be dealt with. It’s as simple as that.”

“What do you mean, ‘dealt with’?” demanded Roy. “Who’s going to ‘deal with’ the likes of Kaiser and Fenja and Menja?”

“You’ll find out shortly after they do,” Danny promised. “In the meantime, the gangs are no longer an obstacle for the ferry to be renovated. Are you going to stand in the way of it being put back in service, or will you be paying out those funds you promised for when and if the gang problem was ever solved?”

“Ah. The funds.” That had been a promise made several election cycles ago, mainly to get Danny and the Association on board with Roy’s election platform. At the time, he’d earmarked some money in the budget just to make it look as though he were willing to come through on the deal, but several budgets had come and gone since then. He doubted very much that any such allocation still existed. “Well, like I said, the gang problem hasn’t been solved yet, so—”

Danny cut him off short. “Which gangs need to be out of the way for you to admit there’s no gang problem anymore?”

Roy blinked. “What?” Did he just ask what I think he just asked?

“Which gangs.” Danny’s voice was patient. “Empire Eighty-Eight, yes or no?”

“Uh … yes.” Roy had no idea where this was going.

“Any others?”

He floundered, trying to think. Where’s he even going with this?

“Come on, Roy. It’s a yes or no question. Are there any other gangs that need to be removed from consideration before you will okay the ferry to be reinstated?” Danny had gone from ‘patient’ to ‘insistent’.

Nobody liked to be put on the spot like that, least of all a politician who valued his wiggle room. But Danny had left him none. Coil was barely a factor. The Undersiders rarely even made the news. Faultline’s Crew didn’t do crime inside Brockton Bay. He couldn’t come up with another reason to delay. Though the Empire’s definitely a good enough reason on its own. “I, uh, no?”

“Good. I’ll hold you to that. I trust that you’ll have those funds ready to disburse once you hear the good news.” There was a click, and the call ended. Roy stared at the phone, dismally aware that the funds no longer existed. He was also pretty sure that Danny knew that as well.

Slowly, he put his phone back on the table, then realised that Rory was staring at him. “What?” he asked.

“What do you mean, who’s going to deal with Kaiser? Who were you just talking to?” His son wasn’t talking as Rory Christner anymore. He was talking as Triumph, of the Wards.

Roy didn’t see much benefit in refusing to answer the question. Besides, this was Rory. “Danny Hebert. Head of hiring at the Dockworkers Association. He wanted to know if I’d be okay with the ferry starting up again if the Empire Eighty-Eight was out of the picture. Talking like it was a done deal.”

“Wait, what again now?” Rory stared at him. “How’s he going to pull that off? Even without Hookwolf and Cricket; they’ve got Krieg, Stormtiger, the twins, Kaiser himself, Victor and Othala, Rune … no, it wouldn’t be possible for the local Protectorate, even with the Wards as backup.” He frowned. “You think he might be hiring Faultline’s Crew, or maybe out of towners, to take care of them?”

It took Roy all of two seconds to discount that idea. “No. In fact, hell no. Danny Hebert’s about as straight-arrow as they come. He personally doesn’t have the cash to pull that off, and even if the Association did—which they don’t—he’d be the last person in Brockton Bay to consider embezzling it.”

“Oh.” Rory rubbed the back of his neck in confusion. “What do you think he meant, then?”

“Damned if I know, son. But I don’t exactly have a good feeling about it.”

<><>

Taylor

Zach was buttering a slice of toast when Dad came back into the kitchen. I still wasn’t sure if he needed to eat, or why he did if he didn’t need to. My best guess was that he enjoyed the taste.

Taking the coffee pot, Dad poured himself a cup, added milk and a little sugar, then slowly stirred it. I knew from past experience this meant he had something he wanted to say, but didn’t quite know how to phrase it. I went back to eating my fried eggs. He’ll figure it out.

Eventually, he took the spoon out of the cup, tapped it on the edge and laid it on the saucer the cup was sitting in. Then he turned to our houseguest. “Zach,” he said quietly. “You’re here for your own purposes, which involve helping Taylor and making her happy. So far, so good?”

Zack put down the knife. “Yes, Danny. I am here to help Taylor.”

“Good.” Dad nodded, as if to himself. “I have … a problem. If you could help me with it, it would be extremely useful. But I’m not asking it as a favour. I haven’t earned that right.”

“If helping you will make Taylor happy, then I will help you.” Zach’s voice was as bright and happy as ever. “What is your problem?”

Dad glanced at me; I nodded encouragingly. “My problem,” he said, “is that the Empire Eighty-Eight will very soon be expanding their operations into the area previously controlled by the ABB. Normally, that wouldn’t be a personal problem to me, but Mayor Christner is playing hardball with the ferry. He won’t release the funds to have it renovated while there’s a quote-unquote gang problem in this area of the city. If even one gang member even threatens to set foot within two miles of the ferry terminal, he’ll hold onto that as an excuse to refuse funding.”

“Well, that sucks,” I observed. Grabbing a piece of toast, I buttered it and took a bite.

“The Empire Eighty-Eight is controlled by Kaiser, yes?” asked Zach. “They follow the stupid idea that some people are better than others because of the melanin in their skin.” He turned to me. “I had to ask my sister about them. She thinks they are stupid, too.”

“Well, she’s not wrong,” I agreed with a grin. “In case you’re wondering, I’d definitely be happier if the Empire was gone.”

“But you do not wish for me to kill them, Taylor?” With the innocent look he gave me, I might once have thought he was joking. But he didn’t joke about things like that.

“No, I don’t want you to kill them. Capturing them to hand over to the PRT would be perfect, though.” I made a mental note to bring a camera along on this expedition. The looks on their faces would be amazing.

Zach nodded. “Do you want me to do it before we go to school, or after we finish? I can do it before, but I would be rushed and I might miss a few of their drug dealers.” I had expressed how much I disliked the way drug dealers peddled their poison to schoolkids the night before. As a result, Zach had decided that he didn’t like drug dealers either.

“I can afford to wait until this afternoon,” Dad said easily. “Are you going to do it loud or quiet?”

“That depends on whether I wait until they go out in costume, or simply capture them in their civilian identities,” Zach said imperturbably. “I think capturing them in their civilian identities might be loud. Or should I capture them like that then put their costumes on them and hand them over to the PRT? Is there a protocol for this?”

“I’d say there probably isn’t,” Dad replied, his expression intent. “But are you saying that you already know who they are and where to find them?”

“Of course.” Zach’s tone was matter-of-fact. “I asked my sister. Kaiser is Max Anders. At this moment, he is travelling from his home to his office in the Medhall building. Several Empire Eighty-Eight capes have civilian jobs within the building. Rune will be leaving home shortly to attend Immaculata High School. I could locate and name each one if you wished.”

“Son … of … a … bitch,” muttered Dad, slumping back in his chair. “Anders is Kaiser? Anders is Kaiser? How does that even work? He’s a known philanthropist, for crying out loud.” He ran his hand through his thinning hair, more visibly disturbed than at any time before.

“You okay, Dad?” I asked, a little concerned.

He nodded jerkily. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine. It’s just … it’s a shock to the system to find out that someone I’ve met over drinks, someone who I thought was on my wavelength for what we needed to fix the Bay, is a goddamn supervillain.” He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair again.

“I am sorry, Danny.” Zach’s voice was subdued. “I did not wish to upset you by inflicting an unpleasant truth on you.”

Dad waved him off. “It’s okay, Zach. I asked, you answered. And I would’ve found out anyway. Probably best I find out now than at some later date after he’s donated to the Association or something, and we find out we’ve got ties to a neo-nazi organisation.”

“Well, it’s not like you’re going to need donations anymore, remember?” I teased him. “Ninety-nine million dollars and change, for the low, low price of one van and one street sign?”

He blinked, then did a classic face-palm. “Son of a—! I had totally put that out of my mind until just now. And there I was on the phone with that chiseller Christner, trying to convince him to let go of enough funding to pay for the renovation of the ferry!” He looked extremely disgusted with himself. “This is why I shouldn’t try to do business before I’ve had at least one cup of coffee in the morning.”

“Oh.” I ate some more toast while Dad sipped at his coffee. “So, uh, do you think he was going to give you the funds anyway?”

“Pfft, no.” He shook his head, looking and sounding more than a little irritated. “But he made the promise once upon a time, and I was going to hold that over his head come hell or high water, until he found the money somewhere. Still, knowing that I don’t need his funds doesn’t mean I can’t hold his feet to the fire for them anyway.”

Zach poured himself a glass of orange juice and drank it with every sign of enjoyment, then put the glass down. “Danny, do you still need me to capture all the members of the Empire Eighty-Eight, now that you do not require the money from Mayor Christner?”

Dad stretched while still sitting down. I heard his back pop in a couple of places. “Oh, absolutely. I want to see the expression on Christner’s face when he realises that my end of the bargain is done, and that he’s got to pony up cash he doesn’t have. Then the look on his face when it becomes publicly known that he’s been holding back on the promise all this time, and I do it myself anyway.”

The mental image was funny enough to make me giggle. “Okay, so we’re going to hit the Empire this afternoon, after school. Right?”

“That is correct, Taylor,” Zach agreed brightly. “But we had not decided whether we would be loud or quiet.”

I glanced at Dad, and he nodded. “Screw it,” I said. “Let’s go loud. Because we all know it’s gonna go loud anyway, so let’s just plan it that way.”

Zach smiled happily. “Very well, Taylor. We will go loud.”

“Don’t forget to enjoy school in the meantime,” Dad reminded me with a smirk that I couldn’t decipher.

As if I needed a reminder. Yay.

<><>

Coil

Calvert tossed and turned in the uncomfortable motel-room bed. He was a man who liked his comforts, and he’d been out of the field long enough to have forgotten how uncomfortable a thin mattress could be. Besides, there was something in the way when he tried to roll to the right …

Opening his eyes, he took a couple of seconds to focus, then he screamed.

Scrambling out of bed, only drawing breath to scream again, he stared at the body-bag occupying the other half of the bed. It was a very familiar body-bag, containing the corpse of the last man Calvert had murdered.

He’d left it in the parking garage attached to his base.

Before that, he’d left it in the morgue inside his base.

What is it doing here?

He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

Snatching the keys and wallet off the nightstand and ignoring everything else; his overnight bag, the toiletries in the tiny bathroom, even his shoes, he bolted out the door in T-shirt and boxers, scrambled into the van and sprayed gravel in his haste to get out of there. Swinging a hard left as he got onto the main road, he concentrated on putting as many miles as possible between himself and that thing.

<><>

About fifteen minutes later, the room service maid entered the room and looked around. She tut-tutted when she saw the luggage that had been left behind. It would go into a bag and be kept for a while, in case of forgetful guests returning for their property. With quick, efficient movements, she stripped the bed, noting that nobody seemed to have slept on the right-hand side of it at all.

Humming a tune, she started to vacuum the carpet.

<><>

Taylor

As I put my sneakers on, I sighed. It wasn’t a very loud sigh, but it was enough for Zach to look around at me.

“Are you unhappy, Taylor?” His voice was matter-of-fact, but that didn’t mean anything. I knew from experience that he would maintain the same cheerful tone whether he was making jokes about firemen’s suspenders or planning to murder someone on my behalf.

“Well, a bit.” I stood up, moving my feet around to make sure I hadn’t wrinkled my socks or accidentally put something in there with my feet. It didn’t seem like it, so I picked up my coat. “I mean, what happened yesterday should be the best excuse ever to skip school, but nope. And I know Emma and the others won’t be there, but it’s still Winslow. Ugh.”

Somewhat to my surprise, he put his arm briefly over my shoulders and gave me a quick side-hug. “Cheer up, Taylor. It might be better than you think.”

Raising my eyebrows, I gave him a suspicious stare. “Since when do you do pep talks? Aren’t you fixated on not lying to me?”

“But I am not lying, Taylor. I will be with you, and I will not allow anything happen to you that is not to your benefit.”

His wording sounded suspect to me and my stare intensified, but he met it with a disarmingly innocent gaze. I had the feeling that if I queried his meaning, he would tell me the absolute truth while evading my question for all he was worth. Which was utterly bizarre all by itself; normally, he told me everything up front. Sometimes more than I really wanted to know.

“Okay,” I muttered reluctantly. “So, did you want to give me a lift, or should we catch the bus?”

Zach gave the question due consideration. “Your stress levels are understandably a little on the high side, so it may be best for me to give you a lift rather than subject you to more stress on the bus,” he said bluntly. “Also, I have seen a map and now I know where Winslow High School is located.”

“Oh, good.” Even though Zach would be at my side, I still wasn’t thrilled about going back to Winslow. About the best thing that could happen to it in my expert opinion would be for it to be ground zero for a cape battle, or maybe a meteor strike. Blowing up the whole damn school would be ideal. Or maybe all three at the same time.

We left the house, going out through the kitchen door into the back yard. Because while Zach wasn’t exactly unknown to the general public—at least, to those who watched the news—I didn’t want to draw any more attention than absolutely necessary. While Zach waited, I turned the key in the lock and stashed it back in my pocket.

“Okay, then,” I said heavily. “Let’s do this.” Much as I wanted to find an excuse to duck out of going to school, there was literally no way to make myself safer than I already was. With Zach at my side, absolutely nobody would be capable of messing with me, even if they were willing to try.

Zach paused. “You sound unhappy, Taylor. I do not wish to participate in something that makes you unhappy.”

That made me stop and think. “I’m not unhappy, exactly. I know I need to go to school, and I know you’ll make sure nobody causes me problems, so I guess I have to go.” I drew a deep breath. “Can we jump there? It’s more fun than running. I mean, running isn’t not fun, but it’s over before I have the chance to enjoy it.”

“I understand,” Zach said with a nod. “My sister says that if I slowed down to let you see how fast we were going, you may suffer disorientation, and I do not wish to cause you that sort of discomfort.”

That made sense in a really weird way. Which was par for the course when it came to Zach and his regularly-performed shenanigans. I didn’t argue as he bent to take me into his arms.

As soon as he had me settled properly, he crouched slightly and launched himself up and over the city. I was almost used to this, but I still let out a whoop of exhilaration as we vaulted skyward. The wind whipped past us, but I had no trouble breathing or even seeing what was going on.

Which meant I didn’t take longer than a second or so to realise that something was going on. “Winslow’s not this way!” I called out to him as we rocketed toward Downtown. “Where are you going?”

Before he could answer, we’d hit the side of one of the few tall buildings in Brockton Bay. I could almost swear I could see the window bowing inward under the impact of Zach’s sneakers. But then he was running along the side of the building with me still in his arms, while I had no idea what was going on.

I was drawing breath to ask him to clear the matter up when he kicked off again. Once again, a lot of Brockton Bay passed by under us in a remarkably short time. We were heading toward Winslow this time, I was pretty sure. Which still didn’t answer the questions whirling through my head.

“Okay, what the hell?” I demanded, my question coinciding with Zach’s sneakers crunching down into the expanse of patchy asphalt that served Winslow for a parking lot. Even though he barely flexed his knees on landing, I never felt so much as a jar. “What was that about?”

“I apologise, Taylor.” Zach let me down onto my feet. “My sister suggested that I take a detour on the way to Winslow.”

“A detour?” Now I was totally lost. “What was that in aid of?”

He smiled. “She thought it might be funny to send a message.”

“Message?” My confusion hadn’t decreased measurably. “What kind of message?”

<><>

Kaiser

Max Anders stood in his office on the top floor of the Medhall building. Coffee dribbled unheeded over the rim of the cup he held, a thin trickle of the steaming beverage dripping steadily onto his flawlessly polished Louis Vuittons. What held his attention was the state of the large floor-to-ceiling windows that faced north from his office.

In accordance with the fact that he lived and operated in a city replete with capes of every description, the windows were composed of the strongest polycarbonate available on the civilian market. And yet, the windows were cracked in a row across the frontage of the office from one side to the other where the sneakers of the teenage boy had impacted the outside of the building, shaking the whole office.

Even then, it wasn’t the fact that the windows were cracked that held him stunned and immobile. It was the fact that the cracks formed letters, and that the letters formed words.

YOU’RE NEXT.

<><>

Taylor

“You didn’t.” I stared at Zach, eyes wide.

“I will never lie to you, Taylor.” Zach was unruffled by my implied suggestion that he’d exaggerated. “We have neutralised the Merchants and the Azn Bad Boys, so the Empire Eighty-Eight is indeed next. Max Anders is by now aware of what has happened to both of those gangs, so it was amusing to remind him that his turn is coming up.”

“But isn’t that …” I paused, rethinking my words. With basically anyone else, I would’ve had no hesitation in saying dangerous. It didn’t even show arrogance on his part; after all, it’s not being arrogant if someone really is that powerful. If anything, Zach constantly undersold himself. Personally, I was convinced that he did it for the amusement value for when people suddenly realised exactly how screwed they were.

“Yes, Taylor?” He gazed at me innocently, though I was beginning to suspect he knew more about my thought processes than he let on. If nothing else, he could ask the Simurgh what I was thinking about something. Though he probably wouldn’t, unless it was absolutely necessary.

I sighed. “Never mind. If Kaiser chooses not to leave town before you get around to him, whatever happens is on him.” It was still absolutely weird to me that Max Anders was Kaiser; I mean, the man was a pillar of the community. But it didn’t even occur to me to doubt Zach’s word on the matter, especially not after the Alexandria thing.

It was around about then that I noticed something I should’ve picked up on earlier. Specifically, the limousine that was currently taking up two car slots in the Winslow parking lot. A uniformed driver stood by the vehicle, glaring at everyone who came near. That included us; apparently, falling from the sky wasn’t sufficient to accord us special treatment.

“Uh … what’s that about?” I asked, gesturing at the imposing vehicle. It didn’t require a huge leap of the imagination to come to the conclusion that it was there, somehow, on my account. Given recent events, it would’ve required improbable mental gymnastics to conclude that it wasn’t about me and Zach.

“It appears to be a limousine, Taylor.” His reply, though entirely truthful, was utterly unhelpful. “Perhaps if we go inside, we shall find out what is going on.”

I gave him a suspicious look. Between the tone of his voice and the grin he wasn’t even bothering to hide, I had the distinct impression that he knew more than he was saying. This was probably intentional on his part, which spoke to his improving grasp on subtlety. He wasn’t quite there yet, but he was learning fast.

“Okay,” I conceded. He had yet to do anything that wasn’t in my best interests, so I figured it was probably best to follow his suggestion.

Side by side, we headed for the front steps of Winslow while those students in the process of arriving gave us a wide berth. Whether this was due to the precipitate method of our arrival, Zach’s Endbringer capabilities, or if they’d heard what he’d done the previous day, I didn’t know. Either way, nobody came close enough to bother us.

Given how roughly Zach had handled Emma and the others, I knew we wouldn’t be seeing them in school anytime soon, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be there. Even with Zach standing as a metaphorical brick wall between me and any potential copycat bullies, there were too many bad memories in Winslow to make me comfortable with walking inside. But walk inside I did, pushing open the time-worn wooden doors and preparing to head to my homeroom.

Except that Mrs Knott, who’d been waiting at the side of the corridor with a stack of books and papers in her hands, intercepted me before I got three steps into the school proper. “Taylor!” she called.

I slowed, then headed in her direction. Being met at the school doors by a teacher was a new experience for me. “Mrs Knott? What’s up?”

Her expression was an odd mix of regret and relief. “I was told to give you these,” she said, handing over the papers and the books. “You’re being transferred to Arcadia. I hope you have a happier time there than you did here. And I’m sorry about what was done to you.”

“Transferred to Arcadia?” I repeated, trying to catch up to what she was saying. “When? Next week?” The apology, I didn’t even know how to address.

She shook her head. “Not next week. Now. The paperwork’s been expedited and signed. I was told your father had already okayed it, and that they know you’re coming.”

I blinked. “Now? Wait, what? Like, now now?” Wait, Dad knew about this? I recalled his smirk and the weird comment he’d made. Of course he did.

“Yes.” She bit her lip. “The last I saw, there were people with suits and ties, along with a couple of high-end lawyers, laying down the law to Principal Blackwell.”

This made no sense to me. Transfers took weeks to arrange. To have one happen in less than twenty-four hours was basically impossible. “How …?”

Zach cleared his throat politely. “Chief Director Costa-Brown knows people who are really good at getting things done. She wishes to keep you happy, just as I do.”

But not for the same reason, I knew without needing to think about it. Zach worked at making me happy because that was a core element of his being. Alexandria wanted me happy so I didn’t unleash Zach’s full capacity for destruction on the general population.

Which I wasn’t about to do, but so long as Alexandria thought I might, I was satisfied with the results. “So, uh, I can just go to Arcadia?” I asked. “Like, right now?”

“That’s what I was told.” She essayed a hesitant wave. “Good luck at Arcadia.”

“Thanks.” Still carrying the books and papers, I turned and went out through the doors again. Zach went ahead without even needing to be asked, which helped clear the press of people trying to come in through the doors.

Walking in my own little bubble of you-can’t-touch-this, I went down the stairs then turned and looked at Zach. “I suppose you also know where Arcadia is? You know, on the off-chance we might need to go there today?”

Either my sarcasm was lost on him or he chose to ignore it, for his reply was as cheerful as ever. “Yes, Taylor. I know exactly where to find it.”

“Oh, good.” I hefted the books and papers I still held. “Is there any chance we can get there without leaving a literal paper trail from here to there? Also, maybe not take any detours, this time?” While having Zach around gave me an entirely unaccustomed sense of security, I was occasionally having trouble getting my head around what he was going to do next.

“Of course,” he said. “There will be no slipstream from the jump if you do not wish there to be. And I have already sent the message. There will be no detours. We will go directly to Arcadia High School.”

I repressed the urge to say Oh, good again, and instead focused on the more important aspects. “Can you ask your sister if there’s likely to be anyone who wants to bully me at Arcadia? You know, just in case.”

His brilliant green eyes went introspective for a moment, then he shook his head. “She says that she does not foresee anyone attempting to bully you at Arcadia High School. Adherence to school rules is much higher than at Winslow. Also, I will be there.” He smiled at me. “We have thirteen minutes before the bell to attend home room. Shall we go?”

I couldn’t think of any more excuses to delay the inevitable. Stepping up next to Zach, I allowed him to scoop me up into his arms while I kept a firm grip on the papers and books. “Let’s do this thing.”

“I agree, Taylor. Let us do it.” Despite the fact that he could probably leap into orbit by tapping his toe on the ground, he still took the time to crouch slightly before he leaped, launching us into the air. Destination: Arcadia High.

“Wooooo hooooo!”

Part 11