I left the van perfectly fine. No one could trace me back. No one could find me there. But when I got to the mission... That’s when things went south.
I did everything as I learned it. Left the door in Dream Therapy’s hall, ran up the catwalk, then left, then back, then up, then door. Barely crack it. Watch for others. See where they’ve been. Gather more supplies.
Strike.
One of them just climbed into a house when I got the picture of them. I heard her whip around so fast. So fast. I barely got out before she did. I ran. Ran around the back. Through the grass, over the rocks, over a gate.
Lost her, found more.
Found him.
More like he found me.
Mew was on my mission that night. So were Sparrow and Nights. All three were waiting for me. I never showed up. Not in the way they thought I would.
Mew ran around the corner. I saw him. In the street. Flash in hand. I was done for. I tried to turn around, but I couldn’t in time. I just stared. Tried to close my eyes. The flash was too bright. The wind knocked out of me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t see.
But then I could.
Bright blue eyes. Staring right into mine. A glint. We knew. He knew. He knew who I was.
Tackled. Tied. Left. The drill. Just like any other. The only edge I had was the one in my boot. It was always hard to get it out, and sometimes I came back with cuts on my ankles, but it’s better than bruises on my wrists. I cut myself free just in time for me to walk away without a trace.
I could barely breathe.
I crept to where I saw them come out. I crawled halfway through it before I turned around and texted the club. “On my way to the mission. sorry, got caught up.” In hindsight, not the best time for a pun. But I did. And I crawled back through the rusty sewer pipe. I was lucky I caught my breath before I left it.
I found Sparrow first over radio, but Mew saw me. I felt burning crawl down my back, but I ran anyway, grapple in stinging hands and cold air screaming through cuts.
He seemed fine.
He said hi, and he questioned where I was. Of course I lied. I told him that Mom and Dad were patrolling the house and I couldn’t get out on time, and that a Sleeper grabbed me before I got here. He raised an eyebrow, but nothing else. The mission went on just as planned, I even grabbed some of the things I dropped earlier to use. We all talked as if nothing happened. Nothing at all.
Maybe I imagined that glint in his eye. Maybe he didn’t see me. Maybe he didn’t recognize me.
“Hey, @radiodreadzone , I know you don’t really believe in the gods but... You hear any new voices lately? We’re all kinda trying to figure out who’s killing the birds and... something tells me it’s someone new...”
It had been...a long time since I’d heard from Thee-I-Dare.
I tried not to let the thoughts in the back of my mind tell me that it was my fault that it was that way. That he had found my choice lacking. That my reaction to things had been...unnecessary and unwanted. It warred in me, how anxious I was to hear back about something regarding what he’d said. When had I ended up so dependent? That wasn’t...something that I wanted to be. Ever. Hadn’t we already been cautioned on that enough about them? And yet...There were still questions I had, now that I’d had time to think about everything.
Thinking...Right. As always...that was what had done me in.
Too much time to myself meant that the doubt started to creep in like an old house left to settle. Termites in the wood. Resolve cracking like a bad foundation in the face of sudden doubts and questions left to rise in an echo chamber.
I told him I was angry. That hadn’t been a lie. The sharp sting of all that he’d told me had burned like salt in an open wound. The days had stretched. The sting had lessened. Kyle, Muse, and Kirby frequently cast me curious looks in the boxcar or on missions. I knew as well as they did that I’d...gotten quieter. Some nights it was easier to hide. But as time went on it’d just been harder. Harder to pretend that I was alright.
I began spending more and more time in Hoadly alone. Splitting off from the boxcar before any of my friends arrived. Trying to avoid them if only for the sake of allowing myself time with my thoughts. A quiet, crueler part of me whispered it was unfair of me to subject them to my worries and fears. I’d talked a little with them sometimes but...There were some things I just couldn’t...wouldn’t explain to them.
Kyle...he adored Thee-I-Dare. I doubt that anything I would have said about my situation would have changed that. Or at least..I hoped not. I wouldn’t want to be the one who set him on a path of gnawing uncertainty like I was. This was not a road I wanted anyone to share. Muse and Kirby...well. Both of them had made their feelings clear on Thee-I-Dare. A deep seated distrust, and even hatred. I didn’t...I didn’t know what to think of him some days, but I did know that I wanted to hope for the best. Hope that he was true to his word. I wanted my trust in him to remain steady and sure. Yet something still sat heavy in my chest regardless.
I recognized it for what it was about the time that I felt the low swing of hopelessness. Grief. Or a form of it anyway. I was no stranger to it, but this old friend had come wearing a new guise and I hadn’t seen it until that moment. A realization that things were...not going to be as I had hoped. That there were obstacles and things beyond my reckoning in my way. But what did that mean for me? What did that mean for the things I was going to do?
The answer didn’t come in the silent nights. It didn’t come in the long, drawn out days where I struggled to stay awake and pretend everything was normal. It was...an impossible choice. But I knew that I would still...have to try. I would have to do something. I just...I didn’t know what. Not yet.
In the void left behind by the familiar faces I knew, I supplemented them with the advice and camaraderie of strangers. I ran missions that went later into the night, when the early blush of dawn began to creep fingers across the sky. Kids I’d never seen before came along beside me, and some of them became familiar and dear as those I already knew. It was to two, Juniper and Mur, I tended to gravitate towards on those late nights.
Juniper had theories. Lots of them. Mur...he had ideas. It was a very familiar dynamic. But in a way that Kyle was not, Mur was thoughtful and a little more suspicious. Curious and brazen in his wording, he was more tempered than what I was used to in my former teammates. It was one reason why I talked to him a little about what I’d experienced, and about why the absence of the Voice I’d pledged to follow bothered me so deeply.
It helped. At least...until the brazen kicked in.
---
“Hey! You need to go talk to Sparrow! She misses you!” I’d looked up at the sound of Mur shouting my name in the boxcar, only to find him standing arms crossed in a stubborn stance in front of the mirror.
My heart stopped. “Mur! NO!” I yelled, trying to drown him out mid-word. I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. That wasn’t how Lights worked. At least...I didn’t think it was.
“You have a lot to answer for, Thee-I-Dare!” Mur finished, just as I managed to get my hands on him and drag him from the circle.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I yelled at him.
He was grinning down at me. “Getting you results!”
“I told you that I didn’t need anyone asking about me!” The panic seizing my chest made my breath come in pants. The words were a struggle to get out.
Mur’s expression faltered, taking me in. “Wait...you were serious?” At my frantic nod he cringed. “Oh...God. I’m so sorry, Sparrow I-... Look. As soon as I get a Light I’ll send him another. ‘Hey, just kidding!’ y’know?”
I put my face in my hands, taking a deep shuddering breath as I tried to calm down. “Yeah. Sure, Em.” The words were weak and broken.
Great. Now not only was he not speaking to me, but now he would probably figure I’d been talking shit about the quiet to others.
‘She misses you!’
I flinched away from the thought. Too close. Far too close to the truth there. This was...not what I needed right now. I would have to figure out something to do. Something to say. Damage control.
“Sparrow, I’m sorry.” Mur tried again. I waved him off.
“It’s fine. I’ll deal with it. I’m...gonna go. I’ll catch you in a few days, okay?” I called over my shoulder, vanishing into the night. Vanishing into a mission. I just...had to be careful not to vanish all together…
The dim rays of the filtering dawn found me standing in front of a mirror, Light in place on the altar. I apologized for the hasty words someone else had sent on my behalf. I didn’t need them to fight my battles for me. To summon him. I was patient and could wait. He was already limited. He was already doing the best he could. He had so many who were reaching out to him. What use was one more voice raised to bother him? I could cope.
There was plenty to do in Redacre in the meantime, and armed with that knowledge and a steeled determination to wait, to not draw further attention to myself, I returned to my solitude in Hoadly.
---
It’s fine.
Given a few weeks, I started to fool even myself. Took the time to tamp it all down. To turn my gaze to other things. The mystery of Colm. The broken symbol. The strange Hunter. The Unknown Caller. There was plenty to tide me over. New aspects and facets to turn over carefully in my mind as I explored the depths of the Maze and diligently collected signs and evidence of CHORUS’ stranger, darker handiwork.
Or at least, that’s what I told myself, even as I took the time to try very hard...not to think. About any of it. It was easier that way. My focus was simply...in the moment. On the things I could do now. The path in the Maze and the places I’d been, my senses sharp for the sound of footsteps nearby, and the delicate sound of tumblers clicking in the lock. A gentle ‘click’, and I was pushing the door carefully open into the room filled with lockers. My eyes were peeled for any signs of Lucids as a bloody red light clicked on and off overhead like a forgotten alarm.
A laptop I’d spied through a window was perched, forgotten, on the top of one of the long sets of lockers. A quick vault onto the worn metal, and a quick snap of my phone’s camera, and the missing person’s report on the screen was recorded for later. I slid back to the ground, rising from a crouch. Absently, I reached up and carefully shut the laptop, considering the picture I’d just taken, and taking a moment to flick through the rest as I started to stride off again.
He took me by surprise.
YOU ARE NEVER A BOTHER TO ME.
My heart thundered in my chest and I took a half step back, startled. “Jesus.” I hissed, drawing in a ragged, steadying breath. He was here. Never a bother, he’d said. I clenched my jaw. So he had heard that. Grand. Now...now what? Uncertainty rose, cloying, in my chest. “Hi…” the words sounded meek, and I did my best to add more strength to my voice to no avail. “Been a bit.” The hush of my own voice pressed in on me, and I wanted to kick myself for my own obvious hesitations.
You’re fine. You’re supposed to be fine!
IT HAS. ALWAYS TOO LONG.
I wondered if that should comfort me, that he seemed to dislike the absences as much as I had. But I also could barely think past my own unease, the nerves. I knew the things I wanted to say. To confront him about...but…
I resisted the urge to scrub at my face, deciding to tamp that all down, as I was best at, and speak instead as I walked. Alternative forms of distraction. “Yeah...you’re spread a little thinner these days.” What was I even saying? I could barely form a thought, as I tried to find...somewhere to go. My concentration fragmenting as I pushed through the Nerve Center and down into one of the String Relays.
JUST SLOW. WE MUST MEET, CONFER. ONE BY ONE. TEDIOUS.
Right. He still didn’t have full reign. Couldn’t speak freely to those who called to him unless they beckoned. “Right. Limited by...the Lights.” A Sleeper stood at an instrument console, bringing me up short. I paused, considering quietly before giving a shake of my head and moving to turn around and head back in the direction of the ladder. I had no idea where to go. Where I could just...stand to speak to him that would be safe. The surface above me seemed suddenly so very far away, and I felt...cornered. It was a strange and uncomfortable feeling. One that I wasn’t used to in Thee-I-Dare’s presence.
I hated it very much.
YES. HOW ARE YOU, SPARROW?
Silence greeted him in reply, my hesitation ringing clear.
Say something! My brain screamed at me.
Tact flew out the window in the face of earnestness. “I’m not...sure how to answer that. Not unless you want a really loaded answer.” I wanted to take the words back, even as I let them out. But it was too late now. “You left me with a lot to think about, last time.” I finished, standing in the midst of Nerve Center. The loud ring of the disc above did little for my fraying nerves.
I AM JUST ONE WEARY OLD VOICE. YOU NEED NOT LISTEN TO SUCH.
The drawn out hiss and rasp of the disc above me set my teeth on edge and I fled down into Ingestion, back in the direction of String Supply. I may not have needed to listen to him, but...he was a friend. I sought out his advice as often as my friends. Perhaps that was a dangerous reliance but...His words carried weight. Too late for me to realize that I’d landed myself potentially neck deep in the danger of the Voices they all warned us of.
Little fool.
I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what he expected me to say. By the time I found my words, they were halted and stumbling. “Maybe not...but…” they broke off on a sigh as he stirred forth, the words rising again behind my eyes, within my head.
I AM SORRY IF I SEEMED CALLOUS.
The apology surprised me, and my head came up at it, blinking into the length of the hallway. I’d thought they were above that sort of thing. All of them. Even him. Admitting they were...wrong, even if it was just in the way they carried themselves. “It…” I took a deep and steadying breath, letting it out once again. The words were finally sorting themselves in my head as I carefully stepped up the stairs in String Supply.
“It was more than you being callous, though...It...Look, I understand that you want to help keep us realistic about the things going on here...But if you’re gonna do that? I’m going to keep you honest too.” I valued the fact that he wanted to keep me on the same page. That he kept me from getting carried away on a falsified idea of my own mind’s creation. But if he was going to lie to me like I lied to myself...I wouldn’t be able to stand for it. The exchange was moot.
I thought back to everything over the last few weeks, the things I’d turned over in my head that had hedged into doubts, into uncertainties. Would it be wrong to call him out on them? What would it mean or say to him about me, that I was keeping a sharp eye out for these sorts of things? It was too late now to back down, though. I’d already said I would keep him honest. I might as well bury the knife, even if it was in my own chest. “I’m pretty sure that...some of the things you said...have been saying lately…” I went on in a slow, careful measure. “I’m not sure...if you’re going against your own word or if you’re just bleeding all over the place with your ideologies.”
There was a lengthy pause as I hefted myself onto the rafters above, the white painted beams that overlooked the Throat became the place that I settled down, straddling the wood. Always perching somewhere high, little bird. I shoved the wry words away into the back of my head.
His extended silence kicked my nerves into gear again and I rubbed a hand down my face, muffling my words. “I was mad about it before but now I’m just...tired,” It was as much of a confessional as I would ever give. It was so dangerously, perilously close to the truth of everything I felt over the last month. “And not sure what to do with this. I don’t know where it stands with you.” I trailed off my mumbling, looking out at the yawning chasm far below. I shivered involuntarily and drew my jacket tighter around me.
YOUR VOICE FADES, SPARROW.
I blinked, hit with a simultaneous bout of relief and embarrassment. He’d missed it. All of that. Not for the first time, I wondered how his senses worked in relation to mine. Or was it...in conjunction? I didn’t know. Regardless, the apology from me came swiftly. “I’m...muttering to myself.” It was as much of a casual brush off as I could give it. A reprieve granted to me from the universe. “I think the day took a toll. I’ll speak up.” His time was limited as it was, I didn’t need him to deal with me mumbling on top of it all as well, even if it had saved me this time.
I AM YOUR WITNESS, COUNSELOR.
I couldn’t help the small, tired smile at the descriptions.
WHERE HAVE I SPOKEN FALSELY?
The smile faded and I let out a long breath. “Well…There’s a couple of things I can think of.” I trailed off, letting my thoughts gather as I let my eyes fall down to the ground below. Things he’d said. Things he’d done. The way I’d been told he was acting by others in the Club. He’d called himself a mirror to us and our emotions...but sometimes there was something off even in those reflections. It made me cringe a little to think I had caught him lying. To prove that the liar was what he was and always would be...But I also needed to let him know that he wouldn’t be able to slip this sort of thing by me. That I would be watching, and paying attention.
“Well, the first thing that I know of is...you...A long time ago I asked you a hard question about you not wanting to die?” An old conversation. He thought that we were better off without him and his kind and yet… “And then...you pull martyrdom onto the table and you’re starting to sound a lot like Die-For-You, now.” He’d asked something of Krystal. She hadn’t been able to hide it from me. She’d taken me aside and told me point blank.
“Thee-I-Dare asked me to talk to In-Her-Teeth. To tell her that if she helps him against SAO, that he’ll give himself up. That she can have him.”
He would die.
I flinched back from the thought, feeling the very idea begin to choke up my throat.
Not now. You need to…Just talk, Sparrow. Think about this later.
I took a shaky breath, my voice thicker but finally unsticking from my throat. The next was...important. “And then, you tell us all the time that you don’t judge...and yet you have condemned an entire group of people. That sounds a lot like judging, to me.” He’d condemned the Lucids. Normally...I wouldn’t have argued. I’d seen them. Had no love for them myself. But now, with that niggling thought in the back of my head that my own dad could be one of them, enscripted amongst the ranks...The stakes had gotten so very very high. I couldn’t wish him harm. I loved him too much. I’d already lost too much from my dwindling family.
DOES ONE SIT IN JUDGMENT OF A TIGER?
I exhaled a harsh breath, steeling myself as the words burned across my mind. Firm though they were, I didn’t think he intended to be unkind. Merely stating...the truth. He’d told me he could lie about it. But that he wouldn’t. I could only hope that promise continued to now.
WHAT THE LUCIDS ARE NOW...THEY WILL NOT HESITATE.
Something fierce sparked up in my chest. Anger. Anger at him and this...this entire situation. He made them sound like cold blooded killers. Shuffled them all neatly into a box of one particular idea and tendency. “They’re people!” I snapped, the bite in my tone surprising me.
WHEN MY MAKERS PULL THE STRINGS...THEY ARE WEAPONS.
The fire in my chest banked. It was tempered, but it hadn’t disappeared. I sat back, jaw setting. So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?
“Is that what we’re all supposed to be? Is that why it sounds like killing being brought to Redacre is supposed to be the most interesting way to ‘shake things up’?” I thought back to Seed-The-Grudge being allowed on the table, to The-Measure-Cuts being interested to see what she brought to Redacre. The rest of her siblings being alright with that. The Hunter prowling in the dark unchecked...I felt disgust twist deep in my chest along with that burning swell. The Maestro wanted human weapons. Did the other Voices want the same thing? That I was supposed to be alright with killing my own father or watching him die was...very telling. “Is that what’s expected?” The echo of my own voice bounced back to me from the Throat and the walls around me. A sleeper passing below paused.
Too loud. Take it down a notch, kid.
I took a shaky breath. Let it out. Counted to three.
“‘Cause I can’t do that. I’ll find every other way first.” Stubborn. So damn stubborn. But...it was all I had right now. What could I say to a god? A Voice? An ancient thing that had likely debated this sort of thing with wiser men and women time and again through centuries…
I tried not to think too hard about that.
I TOLD YOU. YOU CAN ALWAYS RUN.
The fire guttered, extinguished. I slumped on the beam. Again. Again telling me to run. To get out of here. No soldier. No fighter. Just a scared little bird yelling on her branch about her morality with no place here, even as she tried to protect those she loved.
“I don’t think running is really an option either. What am I going to do outside of Redacre by myself? Where would I go? Who would I have? If I even made it out at all?”
A fourteen year old kid in the mountains of Virginia, alone and without anything or anyone to her name. Where the hell was I supposed to go from there? How was I expected to survive that? I didn’t even have the guarantee of a Voice in my head at that point. Just me. Against the world. It was too daunting to begin to consider. I drew my knees up to my chest, wrapping arms tightly around them.
SPARROW…
I felt it like a tired sigh, and I hunched deeper into my tight posture. Clenching my eyes shut against what I was sure would be another lecture did little when the words burned themselves across the back of my eyelids.
MANY TRUE GREAT STORIES BEGIN THUS. ALONE. NOTHING TO YOUR NAME...EXCEPT CHOICE.
I cringed back from the idea. “So you’d paint it as heroics.” I was the furthest thing from that. A hero. I was a kid. I was barely passing algebra. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing, and I was talking to a Voice in my head. By all accounts, I was insane. There was nothing admirable or great about this story. I was just as likely to become a milk carton kid as the next teen in our scrappy Club. Voice in my head or otherwise.
“That breaks every choice that I made to start, here” I rubbed tiredly at my eyes. “Do you know why I joined the Club, long ago? It was to find out what happened to my dad...and then, my motivations are...completely thrown to the wayside when I hear that I can’t fix this. I have to find a way. I have to try.” I felt my voice beginning to break, and paused, swallowing the knot in my throat. “People make choices every day. It’s what we do. Who’s to say they can’t undo the choices they’ve already made? We’re not static.” We’re not gods. We can change.
I had to believe I could fix this. Had to believe I could save him. What did I have if I didn’t? Where did I go? What did I do otherwise?
NOT HEROICS. WHAT DO I ALWAYS SAY?
I was silent, and though we both knew the answer, it came regardless.
SURVIVAL.
I clenched my jaw, eyes sliding shut and huddled deeper into my dad’s large coat. “Survival at the cost of others?” I asked, the words were soft but the accusation was there, bleeding into the tones.
IN YOUR VISION...WHAT IS VICTORY?
“Victory here?” He’d caught my by surprise. I blinked into the dim light of the Maze, thinking. The answers I came up with were...remarkably childish. “Probably the most naive version of it.” I responded, feeling foolish. Feeling terribly, terribly young. “Things work out. We break the doom harp...No one has to die…” In some pretty, golden universe, somewhere. Maybe that would happen. Not here. Not in Redacre. I refused to let my eyes do more than sting as I sat feeling like an idiot for my answer.
THE INSTRUMENT? LONG BEFORE IT…THEY STILL WON. TIME AND AGAIN. DEEP DOWN, MOST OF YOUR PARENTS...THEY DO NOT WANT OUT. NOT TRULY.
I listened, thoughts flashing. One stuck out sharply in my head. The laptop in the boxcar, our stolen evidence and logged conversations. The discussion between the Dead Skeptic and Bells. “‘It takes a particular kind of person to come to Redacre.’” I recited miserably, my voice low and barely even audible to my own ears.
YOU SPOKE TOO SOFTLY THERE…
I didn’t deign to repeat myself, already feeling like I’d kicked myself enough.
BUT...YES. SO ONE MUST ASK ONESELF...CAN WE SAVE THOSE WHO WANT IT NOT?
I lifted my head from the cradle of my knees, brows furrowing as I focused on the deep cavern below.
SHOULD WE?
Choice. Choice again. Even as much as it felt like a test, the words poured out without a thought. “What if it interferes with...Is what’s going on here interfering with their free will?”
I clipped the words short, rubbing my hands against my face. The caste system. The Sleepers and the Lucids. One may have been in the dark, hooded and unknowing, beckoned by the Song but the Lucids. The Lucids knew. They acted at the behest of what they thought they understood. What they thought was right. Like Muse, they had picked their Voice. Made their own decision. “...Well in some cases.” I tapered off and shook my head, abandoning the argument on a sigh. “God...I’m answering my own questions.”
But what did that mean? Did that mean that I had to sit back and let it happen anyway? Just because...just because this was the way it was…did that mean it was the way it had to be? I’d told him, hadn’t I, that humans weren’t static. That we could change our minds. Make new choices. “Does it...It can’t hurt to still try?” The words were quiet, wavering, and so full of uncertain hope. It felt like a fragile thing to ask there, in the darkness. These words offered to a tired Voice who had already cautioned me for the path that I’d picked, felt like they had a chance to break me on the answer. I buried my head back against my knees, waiting for him to speak again.
OUR RITUAL TIME IS TOO BRIEF, BUT...FIRST. SPARROW. YOU ARE RIGHT.
I looked up, looking for eyes to meet that weren’t there. Such a human reaction I never seemed to beat around the Voices.
TO TRY IS A CHOICE. YOURS, IT SEEMS.
I couldn’t get a sense for his tone. Couldn’t tell if he was unhappy with my decisions. These choices that I continued to make. I thought back to everything I’d said. The sting of my own naivety. The uncertainty. I was making my choices regardless. I closed my eyes again. Why does it feel like the fool’s errand, then?
I hadn’t even realized I’d spoken it aloud.
BECAUSE, SPARROW...YOU ARE GROWING UP.
I laughed, and it wasn’t a thing of humor. It was pained and broken. Frustrated and tired. “Well. This sucks!”
YES.
I sat there in the silence between us for a moment. Taking another moment to have a deep breath and try and gather myself again. Not to rally, but to center. “But, I knew when I joined the Club that I’d have to fight...tooth and nail if that’s what it took. This place doesn’t give easy victories. It always has a price. But I know what I want to do. I know where my lines are drawn.” The words were more for me than for him. A reassurance. An understanding of what I was here to do and what I understood would come of it. The things I would give up, and the things that I wouldn’t.
I WOULD OFFER THIS. IT MAY HURT.
Foreboding curled in my chest. I had a feeling I knew where this was going. It gave me time to brace. Gave me time to...to lie. To myself.
YOU SPOKE OF MARTYRDOM.
“I mentioned it…” The words rolled weakly off my tongue.
I THINK ONLY OF FREEING YOUR KIND…
“...right.”
WHAT IF, EVEN NOW...YOU WOULD BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT ME?
What if he was gone, too? I buried my face back in my arms. It did little to block out his words.
WHAT IF YOU SAVED THEM ALL?
Don’t cry, Sparrow. Don’t you dare fucking cry. Not now. Please not now. Not in front of him.
Hold it together.
Save them all. More heroics. More sacrifices. More loss. God. Why was it always...so much more loss. I shied back from that thought. I opened my mouth and let myself speak. “I get what you’re implying. I know you’ve...mentioned it to others. A lot of people have freaked out about it but…” I trailed off, not letting in that I had been one of them. That I had heard the words Krystal had told me and froze, dumbstruck. Had grieved at the very idea, had felt like a fool for how dangerously...attached I had gotten. For how much I had come to care in a place that was ready to take everything from you.
“There’s some things that I already know…” I garbed myself with the truth. The easiest way to lie to myself. Reasoning. The way it was. The way it would be. Even as desperately as I had fought that before. In this moment...I couldn’t bring myself to challenge him. He gave me a choice. Didn’t he deserve to have his? “It was quiet in my head before I came to Redacre. If it’s quiet again when I leave? That’s just things going back to normal.”
No more Voices. That’s what he wanted. A silent world without the ‘gods’. Without their influence and sway taking over our lives. I’d stepped as much into a nightmare as into a strange fantasy novel. There were perks. There were...friends. But it all came with a cost. It all came with grief.
“I’ve...I’ve had to deal with losing people that are important to me before. And it hurts. But...you can live with it.” I thought back to my brother. I thought back to my dad who was still hadn’t come home. “ You don’t want it. But you can do it. I don’t demand that price of anybody though. I don’t ask anybody to give their life for mine. For anyone’s.”
I just...I don’t want anyone else to die.
My eyes burned. I squeezed them shut and buried my face back in the crook of my arms.
YOU MAY BE THE BEST OF US, CHILD. TELLING THE OLD WORLD IT IS WRONG.
There was comfort in the words, though I felt little of it in the face of my own sorrows. I was merely silent in response. I had nothing else to offer in that moment, and didn’t trust myself to speak further.
HAVE A CARE NOW, MY SPARROW. YOUNG TRUTH SPEAKERS END UP DEAD.
The chill that slid up my spine had nothing to do with the cool air of the Maze. The shiver morphed into a thread of steel. “They’ll have to catch me first.” I said firmly. The words were braver than I felt. But I also knew that I was never the kind to go without a fight, even if I was afraid.
I WILL HELP YOU AS LONG AS I CAN.
It felt like the final nail in the coffin. An admission that he wouldn’t be around. Not always. I didn’t let myself dwell. Instead I let my words slip back and away from something too emotional. Back to something safer and friendly, ringing false to my own ears, even as the tone was all wrong for the cheer the words should have held.
“You know that any help that you give so far has been...appreciated. You’re one of the best backers this Club has.”
There was so much I could have said instead. Wanted to say.
I’m sorry.
I hate this.
Please, I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose someone else I care about.
But I bit them all back. Held my tongue. It would be better this way....wouldn’t it? I had survived this before. Just...now I knew it was coming. Now I knew to brace myself. The world was rarely so kind as to issue a warning for grief. Shouldn’t that have made it easier? Shouldn’t I be thankful?
SURVIVE. A VOICE LIKE YOURS...MUST.
I managed to squeeze out a small, choked “Goodnight.” And then he was gone.
I took a wavering breath and felt the tears begin to track down my face. I balled up tight on the rafters and let myself have that moment. Let myself grieve for the things not said. For the things to come.
Around me, the Maze hummed the song of the Instrument, and the night carried on.
It'd been a few days. I still had...no idea how to feel about it all. I was still lost to the hum of uncertainty in my chest. It'd returned to take it's place like a muffling veil around the resolve that had settled in me like a weight. With Krystal's encouragement, I'd found my voice to send a Light to...her. She was the one who oversaw death, right? The one who might have perspective on what warranted a just end. A good end. Or maybe not one at all. It'd seemed fitting to seek her advice. I just...I didn't know if she would even hear me. A part of me thought she would. But the chances of her listening? Responding? Slimmer. By leagues. I was not hers.
But...where did that leave me with Thee-I-Dare? He'd shaken me with his words. In the wake of the shock came...anger. Deep and biting in it's ferocity. The fact that he would say something like that, then in another breath, tell me that I could run if I needed to. It...it didn't solve the problem. He still had his plans. He wanted to protect me from what I would find here if it all ended on the worst note...I could respect him for that. But it didn't change how I felt. Not right now. I...
I looked at the altar and the Light I'd left burning there.
"I'm mad at you right now. But I don't hate you. I can't. Not for the truth..."
My eyes shifted, moving up to meet my own in the mirror.
There was no halo.
The shimmering marker given to me by Thee-I-Dare had simply...vanished. I didn't know what it meant. Perhaps that I'd disappointed him after all. Or maybe it was me. Maybe I just didn't want to see it right now. I had no way of knowing what the answer truly was. That was what scared me.
"I'll...talk to you again soon, okay?"
I would. I just...I didn't know when. Maybe when I had more information. Maybe when I finally thought that I could stand it all. I told him I didn't hate him. It was true. I just...didn't know what to say.
I turned away.
I stopped to grab a bandanna before I left the boxcar, fixing it around my neck. With one last look back at the small flame burning on the altar in the distance, I pulled the fabric up over my face and stepped into the night.
My cell phone was banished to my pocket, out of sight. I refused to acknowledge it, even as I felt the tell-tale buzz of the message from the Club.
But what if it's-
No.
I squashed down the thought mercilessly. That ship sailed. Went right by me in the metaphorical bay. I should have blocked the number for good measure but...for all my frustration, all of my anger, it was directed at myself. Not them.
I'd had questions for Thee-I-Dare, things I'd been content to let sit and maybe find answers for, but...Sometimes more pressing information comes to light. Sometimes you get a weird text from some rando in the middle of the night who knows exactly what you're after.
And sometimes you fuck it up.
In the aftermath, I’d sent the Light to him. My information was terribly limited but still...if they were our witness, if they had something, then I wanted to give him the heads up. I’d left it burning at the ritual table, convincing myself that it was better to just go out and lick my wounds. Let myself diffuse the frustration in a more beneficial way...Beneficial to the Club, at least. An alternative focus. A distraction.
I'd been working my way through the mission, still lost in the frustration of the moment passed. Disabling speed traps, collecting gear, sniffing out bonus evidence...all of this was done on a type of autopilot as my mind played out over and over again how it could have gone.
Teeth grit, I pulled myself onto 1005's rooftop, angling for the rockets, watching with detachment the dazzle of the fireworks and their answering response from another Club member. I was gathering up the parachuted supplies when I sensed him. The words came, brontide and unobtrusive as ever.
I KNOW ENOUGH LIARS, SPARROW...
My hand came to a halt, hovering over the bandage it’d been seeking as my eyes slid shut and my jaw clenched. I straightened, passing a hand over my face for a moment as I tried to regain my composure. I could feel my eyes burning. Stinging at the memory of my...misstep. I refused to let him see me cry. Hadn't I already sunk far enough, tonight?
"Hi, Thee-I-Dare." I was horrified by the quality my voice had taken on, my throat clogged with the promise of what could be tears if I let it progress any further. A deep breath, a quiet clearing of my throat, and it passed. "I...I could have helped." I admitted bitterly. "I'm kind of kicking myself about it." From my perch on the eaves, I spectated the very interesting view of the grass below, unable to raise my eyes, unable to stop the tension that knotted my hands into fists and set my jaw.
DO NOT BE SORRY FOR THE TRUTH.
I sagged as the tension and fight left me in one deflating breath. I let myself slip off the roof. My eyes were finally able to leave the ground, moving instead, by necessary rote, to take in my surroundings as I moved on. "I guess not." The words were a hushed sigh.
WHAT HAPPENED? I HEARD THE RITUAL
I'd been...terribly vague. Not on purpose. It stung, what happened, and I hadn't been keen on dwelling on that particular...failing. But being vague wouldn't help Thee-I-Dare. Not now.
I pulled out my phone, scrolling through apps until I came back to my messages. I'd been so sorely tempted to just delete the entire conversation, but...Now I was at least somewhat glad that I hadn't in my fit of pique. It all fit neatly on the screen. Three messages apiece, balanced on both sides of the screen.
"I got a text on my phone from the unknown caller while I was running a mission. By myself. Don't know if that makes any difference..." I'd been in the Well, heading into the barracks when my phone had gone off. They'd scared the shit out of me.
Too bad that isn’t hard to do.
"They..." I couldn't swallow back a resigned sigh, scowling as I looked back over the handful of texts. "They knew...Colm was a sleepwalker." I squinted at the words and corrected myself, "a sleep talker? They had an archive of the recording that he made." I paused re-reading that. "Because apparently he made one...?" A pause as I processed that. "And they asked if they could trust me. Asked who I followed." I paused as the daimon stirred forth again.
DID HE...
I blinked, then realized he meant the recording. Right. "I guess so. So whoever they were, they've got information. But I don't know how to get a hold of them or get a hold of what they had." My brows furrowed as I powered off the phone and pushed it back into my pocket, burying it under a bandage and zipping it closed. I turned my attention back up the road to Old Growth. I was mostly wandering now, I tended to take to pacing when a daimon spoke to me. It felt easier to think that way, even if it was just a nervous habit. But as I approached the daycare, I could see posters jutting out of trashcans. My wandering was worthwhile tonight, at least.
"I don't think they like...you guys. Or maybe they just don't like...you?" A grimace. "Because when they asked if I followed anybody and I mentioned you, they called me 'burnt' and cut off communication." That part still puzzled me. What the hell had they meant by 'burnt'? Was it a play on Thee-I-Dare? He'd told me stories of stolen fire, his symbol on the table looked like the flame of a struck match-head.
Or maybe it was little more sinister. Icarus too close to the sun. I'd taken up my lot flying too close to the 'gods'. "So." I continued, the bitterness in my words had their bite leeched back by resignation, "I don't know if that means anything in particular or if they were just being unusually cruel with their words."
THEY HATE ME? THEY CAN GET IN LINE.
It was practically a scoff from him. I couldn't help the soft bark of laughter. "You do seem to have a knack for making enemies...don't you? All that contrariness catches up, I guess."
But his enemies were mine too, now. I wondered if I should worry about that. Nervousness flickered and sparked, deep in my chest. I pushed it away. Tamped it down. Those were for another time.
YOU WERE ALONE. THAT IS OF NOTE.
I had been. But not for long. Halfway through the texts showing up, I'd been told Kyle was coming. And Cass not long after. A part of me briefly wondered if that had been what scared them away.
Maybe. Maybe not. Our words had continued, even after their arrival. I had no one else to blame for this.
"Yeah." I began, realizing I'd been silent a beat. "I dunno they've...they've sent messages, from what I've heard, to others..? But I don't know if they were alone or not." Hard to tell with the rumor mill surrounding all these people getting texts from a blocked number. Offhandedly I also added, "They don't like the Stalkers either. I've heard some of the kids laughing about how they taunted them. They're spying actively, whoever they are." I chewed at a nail a moment, having managed to shove the last of the posters into my pack to begin putting up.
THEY MAY FEAR TO TRUST YOU, YET...
I couldn't help the slight scoff, even as my shoulders shrugged in my too-big jacket. "I mean...I can't blame them..." I muttered. "One...two text messages asking 'Hey can I trust you?' That's not...that's not how you build a rapport." It was trailed off with a sigh.
IF THEY OFFERED SUCH BAIT, I THINK...
THEY NEED FRIENDS, OR SHELTER...
I felt myself bristle a little mentally at the words 'bait'. Had I avoided a trap then? My honesty spared me from something dangerous? "And...I guess they didn't think I was a good option for that." Were they that desperate for those things? "But...I mean..." I turned a thought over, "They've got a whole club at their heels. But they're not afraid of us." No, they were actively reaching out to us instead. So who was threatening them by us drawing attention to them. "More enemies of yours maybe on their tail? I dunno..." I mumble, patting a poster into place against some house siding, Sargent Snuggles' sweatered visage looking apathetically down at me.
MAYBE. BUT YOU CAN USE THIS...
Encouragement. Help thinking it through. A wan smile spread on my face at it all. I knew what he was doing, even as my tired brain tried to process through all the new information.
THEY WILL TRY AGAIN WITH SOMEONE.
That much was clear. They'd been working their way through kids in the Club. No one more than once though, it seemed. "Right. We're not...sure...if there is a right answer to their questions but..." Another pause as I finished putting up the posters in the neighborhood, angling back up to the last few spots marked for Old Growth, eyes still peeled for Lucids, which had been rife about this evening. I was out of Tranq Darts, and I didn't need the additional aggravation. "They've talked to quite a few of us so far. I think they're still looking for someone to trust.
YOU KNOW WHAT NOT TO SAY. IT HELPS
Hundreds of wrong ways. Only one right. Just like Edison. Unfortunately, I wasn't sure if we had the luxury of time like he had. This wasn't a patent so much as it was a race to fix a broken Voice...one I didn't trust as far as I could throw her. And to figure out...everything.
A slow tired blink.
What was I even doing at this point...besides just helping Thee-I-Dare? Was that enough? I rubbed tiredly at my eyes, minding the poster glue that spattered one of my palms.
More thoughts for later. There was so much. So much to understand.
"Right. They...don't seem to like any of you guys." Time for more thinking out loud. My brain could process things, but in my state, as the thoughts went into my grey matter, they were absorbed and dispersed into nothingness if I refused to say them out loud. Gone forever. We'd both have to cope with this method, for the moment. I hoped I didn't say anything too stupid. "But...if they're our Witness...wouldn't they be tied to at least one of you? Or are we just dealing with a loose cannon?" Even as the thought came off my lips, I grimaced at the idea.
Not so far-fetched, honestly. We weren't the only untied ends in Redacre, it was looking like. As we pulled at the strings, more and more pieces came unraveled with us. There the whole time, or slowly woven in and well hidden.
WELL. AMONG MY SIBLINGS...
THEY SAID THE WITNESS WAS THERE.
"Right." A gestured phrase for him to continue as I moved quietly behind the fences, heavy-lidded eyes peeled, a Flashbang gripped tight in hand. Just in case. It was excessive it turned out, as I put the last poster up and slunk towards the campgrounds. My careful creeping brought no one's attention to bear on me. Wary skulking turned back into careful upright steps as I let myself relax back into my stride.
THAT NIGHT. THIS PERSON...LATER?
"There's so many...misaligned pieces here." I sighed, feeling the exhaustion tugging at me. Too many late nights. I was having trouble concentrating again. "I dunno, Thee-I-Dare, something here reeks and I don't know what it is. And that's throwing me off."
RITUALS SAID A CAR, EARLY MORNING.
His attempt at a helpful addition, I supposed. But it was also information I already knew. "Afterward. That's after..." I looked for the right word choice, "The event took place...though right? Unless..."
My brain turned over thoughts. Ideas. Possibilities. I felt something clicking into place. Colm had recorded his sleepwalking. It wouldn't matter if someone had been present at all.
YES. THAT IS WHAT I AM TOLD.
His words rumbled quietly across my mind, but I acknowledged them only distantly, too focused on my sudden mental path.
Not a cop meddling. Not the Voice. Something had doctored the scene. And something had stolen that tape. Someone.
"..if..They took his recording." The words came out of my mouth haltingly, as I stared off the Leap, wide-eyed, realizations crashing down with a bevy of new pieces for the puzzle hailing with it.
Almost in tandem, a similar thought came from Thee-I-Dare.
FROM WHAT YOU IMPLIED, A THIEF.
"Right." The word was a breathy acknowledgement, the idea more or less confirmed in that moment by the daimon's own suspicions. "Fuck." the word shot out of my mouth with venom. Confusion ran in the wake of this discovery. "Oh no...Oh no. That's. New." I ran a slightly sticky hand through my short hair, ruffling the strands. "And a thief on the run...What the-" I paced down the gang-planks towards Dream Therapy, distracted thoroughly, and only barely remembering to monitor my volume. "Why would they-What were they even doing with that? What?! What purpose would they have for stealing Colm's recording?"
Why indeed? I could only hope Thee-I-Dare wouldn't mind my stream of consciousness. Exhaustion would do that to me. Ranting was...not something I'd done in his presence before.
THEY MUST FEEL VERY ALONE, NOW.
"Yeah," I said, realizing my tone sounded very 'well duh', causing me to sober a bit, thinking more. "Yeah, probably. Especially if they're reaching out to a bunch of kids."
AS TO THE REST, I KNOW NOT.
I bit back a sigh. He was in the same sinking ship as I was. Plugging the same holes without an idea as to the source. Asking him the questions wouldn't help. He didn't have any answers, and neither did I for the time being. "I know. At this point...speculating." I shrugged, squinting into the watery green light of Dream Therapy. I was hoping to find just a few more pieces of evidence ensconced in the Maze before I called it a night. "Probably a lot of waiting until they try to reach out to somebody else again. They seem good at spreading a bit of discord themselves but...not finding what they need."
SPECULATION. THE REDACRE DISEASE.
I couldn't tell if he was teasing in that moment or not, but I laughed quietly anyway, unable to help the sarcasm that colored my tones. "Isn't it just, though?" I paused just long enough to sweep my arms wide from the balcony of the high platform, "But...I mean look at this place." I gestured to the strange fog rolling on the floor, the twisted trees, the lurid red of the Door in the distance. "There's barely any answers here. Just a lot of mysteries."
There was a brief pause that lasted only a few heartbeats.
OUR RITUAL TIME ENDS, SPARROW...
I'd known it would. His time was shorter these days. Pressed by the weight of...whatever had done this to him. As the flame dwindled, so too would his presence. Even now if I paid attention I was sure I would feel him fading. "I understand." my arms dropped back to my sides, my hands burying in my pockets.
PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS DOWN HERE.
I couldn't help the soft smile that quirked at my mouth, then. Ever endearing, Thee-I-Dare. Even if he couldn't be there to watch over us all the time. "I will. I'll only pick up a few more things and I'll go." The honest truth. I was a shit liar, after all. "I still appreciate you stopping by. Helping me suss a few more things out." I paused, resisting the urge to scuff my shoes on the planks underfoot, the high-tops less yellow now, and more dirty and grass stained than they'd been when all this began. "Sorry I couldn't have been more help, though."
I THINK YOU WERE, MY SPARROW.
I couldn't tell if the warmth that suffused the wake of the statement came from him or if it was simply my own reaction. It was a comfort, regardless. And the endearments never ceased to help something tensed somewhere in my shoulders loosen just a bit. Ridiculous. I was utterly ridiculous. I smiled anyway, shaking my head. "There you go, being nice again."
SURVIVE.
That presence shifted away. "Goodnight, Thee-I-Dare." I murmured quietly.
Long uncounted moments passed, the silence extending as I simply...took stock of everything. The frustration was gone in the face of speaking to him. Helped by the ability to think through what I'd learned, no matter how small the crumb. Just...having someone there to talk. It'd helped. I didn't feel so ruffled.
He was good at what he did, I'd give him that...a balm to wounded pride and dismay. I was grateful always for that help. Always glad when he came to help me feel better when I seemed dead set on feeling sorry for myself. I hummed thoughtfully, wincing at the realization that I hadn’t told him as much. Always looking out for us. I needed to do more to repay in kind.
I finally turned and shifted deeper into the Maze to continue my search. Caution coded my steps softer.
There was more to do, yet, but I had promised him to take care.
I hated it. I hated the feeling that burned in my chest like an itch. Like a weight. It felt like a jittering in my limbs and in my legs. I needed to...to go. To move. To be anywhere but here. A glance at the window from the kitchen table showed it was late afternoon. Too early to sneak to the boxcar. Too early to do anything besides simply...escape. I slipped from the table, toeing my way into my shoes.
"Mom! I'm going for a run!" I shouted back into the house, already out the door before I could hear any response or protest she might have offered.
I spared no time to change. No time to even stretch. As soon as I hit the sidewalk I was running, cutting my way up the sidewalk and away from the neighborhood, towards the trailhead that lead into the woods.
There was...There was too much lately. Too much. It preyed on my mind like an endless anxiety.
I tried to slow the crawl of it with the count of my breaths, trying to stabilize.
You can't help. What good are you, detective?
Teeth grit.
Leaf litter crunched underfoot, dirt puffed in the dry heat of the sun, leaving soft impressions behind me. I picked up speed. "There's...gotta be...something." The words came from behind tightly clenched teeth.
Flashes and images. The nights in the boxcar. People with grand ideas and plans.
"He's okay. He said he's getting stronger. He's come back."
Faster.
"We managed to reach his sibling! I think we're making progress. He's so thankful."
Faster.
"He missed me."
I was in a dead sprint now. Running from the thoughts that refused refused to empty, even as my heart thundered and my lungs burned. "Stop...just...just stop.
HE CARES NOT FOR YOU
It was the vaguest thought, scraping gently by the back of my head. I staggered, clipping the tree I'd been rounding. Bark scraped my palms, biting into skin as I came to a halt, panting, eyes wide. The hair on the back of my neck prickled.
The sense of being watched. A sharp focus leveled upon my shoulders. Too many eyes.
I flinched.
"Go away." I whispered under ragged breaths. I'd unknowingly begun taking the path to the boxcar. That stopped now. I refused to show Them where it lay, for who else could be there.
But silence greeted me. Birds sang, and cicadas hummed. I lifted my head, staring into the distance. "You're wrong." The words were whispered, I couldn't bring my voice up further. Afraid to voice my own fears. "I...I'll help him. No matter what."
BUT WHAT USE HAS HE FOR A FEARFUL CHILD
My eyes shut, burned. I refused to break. Not to them. I refused to let them know how close they'd come to the mark. Minutes passed in silence. And slowly, the sense of being watched faded. The attention passed to someone else. I slowly righted myself from my heavy lean against the tree.
It was hours later when I found the boxcar. After the sun had gone down.
In the dull glow of the lights I stood in front of the mirror. In my pocket, I could feel the heavy weight of the lighter. A hand slipped into my pocket wrapped tightly around the cool metal.
THOSE QUESTIONS. THE HARD ONES. WHISPERED INTO THE DARK OR SCREAMED UNTO THE SKY...THAT IS WHY WE ARE HERE, SPARROW.
My eyes met those of my reflection in the mirror. A muscle ticked in the jaw of the reflection.
Thoughts torrented in my head.
I don't know how to help you.
I don't know what to do.
Soft and quiet, the most haunting thought surfaced in the back of my head.
I think you made a mistake in choosing me.
The hand on the lighter tightened. I took it out of my pocket, staring down at the surface glinting in the light of the boxcar. Time ticked past, meaningless. Slowly my eyes flicked from the Light to the altar.
Crossbow in hand, I left the boxcar with my friends. Silence reigned in the boxcar, and in my pocket, the heavy weight of the Light remained.
The days have sort of bled together. It makes it hard to keep track of...everything. But sometimes...things happen. And they stick out sharp. Today was no exception.
I...Look. If we're being honest here...I always thought I would be found...wanting. Technically I chose I didn't get chosen. I see things happen but can only sit back and watch them. Try to understand. A stone on the side of the stream until...
Someone picked me up and threw me deep into the water.
Something.
A voice that shook the sky, sweet and rasping. When I thought of the voice of a goddess of life and death...the one I heard in my dreams...Well. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified. I could barely take in my surroundings for my focus locked up so tightly on that eye of blazing stars in the sky....I forgot to start trembling until afterward.
Until after I spilled my guts. Until after I put him in danger. I'm afraid I made a grave error. She was...interested in the fact. "It almost killed him," Kyle said, and the intrigue that colored her tones pricked alarm bells in all of us there.
I don't...I don't want her to hurt him. I feel...so weak. So easily led astray. Too kind. Too soft.
I lit the light at the mirror...and I begged.
I'm sorry, THEE-I-DARE. I hope I did more good than harm.
