“Gah! Get… get off, I’ll explain!”
Three raised up, grabbed a handful of Jackson’s shirt, and hauled him up on to the bed. He didn’t sheathe the blade.
Jackson sat for a moment, rubbing his neck, working his shoulder, swinging his leg. He glanced around like it was the first time he was seeing the room. Pupils dilated. Movement stopped.
“What’re we doin’ here?”
“You tell me.”
“Why’d you bring me here?”
“I didn’t. This is where we found you. This is where you brought Wren.”
Jackson shook his head in disbelief. Then settled back, as if remembering.
“Not me. Whit.”
Three had no idea who Whit was, but nothing about the way the kid said it suggested he was lying. He was telling the truth. Or at least what he believed was true.
“This is Whit’s old room.”
“He still around?”
Jackson chuckled humorlessly. “No. Not anymore.”
There was more to the words than Three understood. He waited, knowing the silence was more likely to get answers than any questions he asked.
“That kid… Wren. What is he?”
“How do you mean?”
“I dunno,” Jackson said with a shrug, shaking his head. “He… something he did. He fixed me.”
“What ‘others’, sweetheart?”
“It wasn’t just him. I mean Jackson was the only one, but there were others. Inside. I think they wanted to hurt us.”
“And they tried? To hurt you?”
“He was right there, when I woke up. Standing there with a pillow. But he felt wrong, Mama. There was something wrong with him. I didn’t want to hurt him. I just wanted the others to go away.”
Wren was starting to get upset again, reliving whatever terror Jackson had put him through. Cass picked him up, pulled him into her lap, rested his head on her chest.
“It’s not your fault, Wren. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
He sniffled. Crying, though she could tell he was fighting it. Trying to be brave.
“It’s alright, baby. It’s not your fault.”
“Then why does it keep happening?”
“That’s what I’m tellin’ you,” Jackson said. “They’re gone. The kid did something to me, and they’re all gone.”
Three sheathed his blade, and dropped into the only chair in the room. As far as he could tell, Jackson was telling the truth. Whatever Wren had done had actually been a good thing, hard as it was to believe. Three looked at Jackson, still sitting awkwardly on the bed. Afraid to move too much for fear of what Three might do.
“Relax. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“So you believe me?” Jackson asked, shoulders visibly relaxing.
“Doesn’t make sense. But nothing has, since I met those two.”
Jackson scooted back up the bed, rested his back against the headboard, pulled his feet up under him cross-legged. He placed his hands in his lap, then picked them up again. Looked them over.
“I’m in bad shape, yeah?”
“You could use a bath, sure. We gonna be OK to stay here tonight?”
Down here, underground, with all the activity, Three realized he was losing sense of time. But he guessed there wouldn’t be time enough to pack up and get to a wayhouse in the light they had left.
“Yeah, of course. You can stay as long as you like.”
“Doubt that,” Three said, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go check on the girl and her kid. Why don’t you take some time, get cleaned up. Gimme a chance to…”
He wasn’t even sure what all he needed a chance to do. Think. Rest. Prepare. He had important work tonight.
“They thought I was dead, yeah?”
“Yeah. Better let me break the news. I think everybody’s had enough shock for the day.”
Jackson nodded, understood.
“I’ll be up later.”
Three nodded in response and then left Jackson to look after himself.
They were sitting together in an oversized Temprafoam chair, cuddling. Cass looked up with anxious eyes when Three entered. He grabbed a chair and dragged it up next to theirs. They’d both been crying.
“You alright?” he asked, though he himself wasn’t even sure who he was talking to. Cass nodded, and he guessed that was good enough.
“So, Wren. Jackson’s alright.”
Mother and child both looked stunned, though Wren seemed more relieved, more hopeful than Cass did.
“You didn’t hurt him. In fact, I think you helped him.”
“He’s… he’s OK?” Wren pressed.
Three nodded.
“Better than OK, kid. Whatever was wrong with him before, you fixed.”
Cass and Wren exchanged a look. Three waited expectantly. Finally Cass explained.
“Wren said there were ‘others’. He thought maybe he’d made them go away.”
“Sounds about right. Whatever happened, Jackson’s up and about down there. Gettin’ cleaned up. And we’ve got some work to do. You remember where the Treasure Room is?”
The last was addressed directly to Wren, who nodded his head emphatically.
“Then why don’t you show me around.”
Wren led the way down the twisting stairs, eager to get another glimpse of the so-called Treasure Room. Cass and Three trailed behind, and as the trio entered a corridor, Cass felt Three’s hand close firmly around her forearm, drawing her close. He leaned in, eyes still on her son.
“We’re not done talking yet,” he said in a low voice.
“I know,” Cass answered, nodding.
“How long till you need to dose again?”
“About negative eighteen hours.”
He grunted a wordless curse. Wren padded ahead oblivious.
“Do you still have any more of your synth?” she asked, wishing she hadn’t sounded so needy.
“Not enough. Your body’s already figured out that ain’t what it really needs. And at the rate you’re burnin’, same dose would be half as effective. Less.”
He let go of her arm, pulled away. Shook his head. He was thinking it through, and it didn’t seem as though he liked the conclusions. But he’d found ways before when there’d been no way. She hoped he could do it again. No. Believed it.
“Here it is,” Wren said.
Three motioned Wren on in. “Lead the way, soldier. Let’s see what we’ve got to work with.”
Wren smiled, puffed up by Three’s words. Cass didn’t understand it, but she couldn’t deny that Wren was reacting differently to Three, now. Normally her son would shrink from attention; with Three, he seemed to revel in it no matter how small.
She moved to follow Wren inside the Treasure Room, but Three stopped her with a hand light on her belly.
“No way we’re gonna find quint between here and Greenstone. Any other chems buy you some time?”
“Duff would work, if it’s just to maintain. I can’t boost off it, though. And Trivex, if the dose is big enough.”
“If we don’t have any luck here, I’ll have to raid medical.”
Cass just nodded. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d already done that. He stared for a too-long moment. Hand still on her stomach.
“We’ll figure it out, girl.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her. She nodded again.
“I know.”
“Oh, cool,” a voice called from inside. “Mama, look at this!”
Three held his hand out in an “after you” motion. Cass slipped in and found Wren standing at one of the many low tables, holding up a clear flexiglass ball, perfectly round, perfectly smooth.
“What is it?” Wren asked.
She’d never seen anything like it before.