His eyes glittered as he looked at me with a faint smile. “You heard me talking to my father last term.” He waved a distracted hand. “He has his plans. And his desires. The Department stole our generational ward stones some ten years past under cover of continued ‘evidence’ lockup. Motivation and revenge are easy lures for my family,” he said darkly.
“Along with family ties. Loyalty.”
Patrick's eyes went blank as he stared off into the distance. “We'll have to see, won't we?”
“We'll save your brother.”
“We'll have to see on that, too,” he murmured. I stroked our connection thread, which hadn't fully recovered, but was still there, still attached. The connections had to be upheld by both sides. All of Patrick's were dimmer than before, though, and it made me want to cry. Sacrifice. “Get to have my fun first, though, don't I?” His expression turned jovial like his continually flipping emotional switch had locked into place again.
“Only if you want,” I murmured. “I'm serious, we can—”
“Yes, Crown.” He sounded so tired suddenly, letting me see his strain. He gave me a smile. “I know. With you there is always a choice. It's a novelty. Don't be concerned. O'Learys always come out on top.”
He leaned back and shut his eyes.
“All Department prisoners go to Keating Glen first,” Dagfinn was saying, as I tuned back in to the other conversation. “It's procedure. They get wiped of tracking spells and anything else before being run through the system.”
“Then some stay there, while others go to a stage further down,” Saf said, running his fingers along the path.
“Where would they take one of us?” I asked.
“Depends on who they get.” Axer tapped one of the buildings in the hologram. “You or me, we'd get processed quickly. Fifteen minutes, maybe. Stripping spells and unbreakable null cuffs and tailored spells. Stavros will already have subroutines set to subdue our magic, and he'd want us quickly. Kaine is the only one who'd be allowed to transport us, though, so we'd have just that small bit of time before he arrived, if he wasn't already on the premises. Price and Constantine would get nearly the same treatment we would, though they'd be held until Stavros needed them. Maybe underestimated and allowed a bit of magic even. Bau and Tasky probably too. One of the others gets caught, they go to maybe stage two or three. It depends on how they'd rate their status and what surgeon they'd be sent to.”
“Most of you would probably stay in Keating Glen,” Greene said. “It's where they keep most of the prisoners.”
“If we incapacitate Keating Glen...”
“Then they'll have to use the holding cells of the next best alternative.”
“Spartine.”
Axer nodded. “Spartine.”
“And the protection levels?”
“Different levels of protections are used for different kinds of prisoners.”
“So, Patrick—”
“Would rank as high volatility. A trickster. They wouldn't trust him.”
“And Will?”
“Tasky would still get held in the highest security because of his ties to you. But would they expect trickiness from him? They'd be less likely to. A distinct advantage.” He tapped the page. “We need a high level of security, but a low level of deception risk.”
“The space where Stavros is?” Greene said. “It can't be large. And it can't be filled with workers. No one ever says, 'I work in the Department's secret torture lab' and though people claim to have seen Stavros personally as a point of pride, the truth is always unsubstantiated.”
“Politicians lie,” Constantine said languidly, twisting a stringed net.
“There are many secret torture labs,” Ramirez said. “He can visit any of them by hopping a ride.”
“Who would be allowed to travel where he is, though?” Greene asked. “Kaine, probably.”
“Cuffed, tortured victims?” Will contributed.
“Raphael was tortured by Helen Price. Extensively,” I offered. “They both have said so. Now, maybe the torture took place in the Basement alone, but Raphael was worked on by Stavros personally. Does your mother know where Stavros is?”
“She doesn’t need to know where he is, if she has a connection to him,” Olivia said briskly. “He can just open the door for her. That is, in fact, how I’m sure they do things. Stavros has to open his side.”
Uneasy silence met that statement.
“Price's mother,” Green allowed. “Mussolgranz. That irritating praetorian from campus.”
Darkness roiled through Constantine, Axer, and Olivia at the reminder of Tarei.
“Likely more of the empty vessels you saw in the Basement,” Camille said tightly. “Nothing to trust or not trust there.”
Axer nodded. “We get to him on our own, outside of all the spells, those are the people we have to fight.”
“Lovely,” Constantine said, stretching back. “One for each of us.”
“We all need to go over Crown's memories,” Greene said. “Sorry, Crown.”
They pulled the entire set from the Basement and put it in a viewing ball. It was too hard to experience again, so I chose to sketch and use the time for the dozen enhanced storage papers I needed to construct.
“Ugh. I need to vomit somewhere,” Lifen said, giving my shoulder a squeeze, when they were done.
“We already knew what had to be done after Crelussa,” Mike said tightly. “Four thousand attempted murders of kids. But this...millions...” Mike looked up, and there was no second-guessing in his gaze. “I will see this stopped no matter what. No matter what, Ren.”
I had to look away, close my eyes. That I would lose one of them in this was too probable.
“An Empath. A Bridge. A Hollow. Wow, listening to that was worse than the summary I already knew!” Loudon said.
“This is all just fantastic,” Delia said, stabbing a knitting needle into a glowing scarf, held in the chompers of a book titled Deadly Creations at her side. “Nothingness. Loss of self and others. I'd rather have death and dismemberment.”
Neph, who I'd thought would be the most upset—and indeed, her emotions were all quite clear on that front as she viewed the memories—was surprisingly the one straining for every horrifying detail.
“Affective Empathy. High intelligence. Hubris,” she said softly. “His model for humanity is already set. He assumes motivation according to the basest of emotions. And while that likely bears true in an overall sense, such views can lead to overestimation in the micro. Enton Stavros under and overestimates emotions. Anger, love, vengeance... He has manipulated each for six or seven decades. There are no surprises for a man like that.”
Axer flipped the sphere in his hand. “Give him what he thinks he'll see...”
She nodded, and looked up at him, resolute resignation in her gaze. “And he'll see nothing else.”
Loudon clapped his hands against the table. “Well, we're all going to die. I'll let Adrabi know,” he said cheerfully, standing.
Delia, Lifen, Kita, and Camille rose as well. The hour to get caught up was over—Adrabi and Lox were the only ones keeping tabs over the book at Excelsine—and it was time to shift members.