“Glen,” said Second Wind, nodding to the man. “Good to see you. We didn’t wake you, did we?”
“Oh, heavens no,” said Glen. “That was Chelsea’s doing. She’s desperate to check on the strawberries. Says that she doesn’t want the Palmer twins to eat the ripe ones before she’s had her pick.”
Second Wind smiled at the little spryte in Glen’s wake. She showed no fear of either of them, despite the fact that they were both demons, and Malcolm was still a stranger to her.
“Will you save me one?” asked Second Wind.
The girl smiled at him, her cheeks reddening slightly. She nodded enthusiastically, and then walked after the man as he headed toward the town’s gardens.
More people, demons, and sprytes began to leave their houses, some of them carrying tools, some of them carrying laundry. The town appeared to be newly constructed with no infrastructure beyond the one road. It didn’t seem to have electricity, running water, or any other modern conveniences.
What is this place?
“Everyone is equal here,” said Second Wind. “Everything is shared. This is what the world could be, if more people would open their eyes.”
Malcolm shrugged.
“How is this any different from what Rain Dancer did?” asked Malcolm. “You built a commune. Am I supposed to be impressed?”
Second Wind’s expression darkened slightly.
“Use your imagination,” he said. “Picture living in a world where all people, humans, demons, and sprytes were on equal footing.”
“That would be great,” said Malcolm. “But people would still be people. What happens when there is a dispute here in your little town? You’re the one who settles it, right? But the only reason people listen to you is because you have the most power. It’s not like you’ve cracked the code to make a utopia.”
“That sort of thinking is why the old world needs to be broken down,” said Second Wind. “People can be good on their own, if given the chance. And so can sprytes and demons.”
Malcolm felt a headache coming on. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly.
“You think I’m crazy,” said Second Wind. “There’s a certain irony to that, given how much of our personality we share.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” said Malcolm. “But I do think you’re engaging in some serious wishful thinking.”
“Really?” asked Second Wind. “You’re still blinded by what the champions told you, then. Still operating under the assumption that every demon and spryte is a single outburst away from mass murder?”
This, coming from the ultimate mass murderer.
“What I think,” said Malcolm, “is that you have it backwards. Everything you talk about destroying, communities, governments, the ‘old world’, it was all designed with the purpose of keeping humans well behaved.”
“So you think the normal people will cause trouble, then?” asked Second Wind. “You think they’ll be the ones to worry about?”
“You’re missing my point,” said Malcolm. “We’re all ‘normal people’ now. You’ve proven that with this little town. You’re a normal person, Second Wind. And you are the one these people are most under threat from. You’re the one that everyone is afraid of, and for good reason.”
“They aren’t afraid of me!” snapped Second Wind. Several of the townspeople turned to look in his direction at the sound of his raised voice, but true to his words, none of them looked scared.
“You’re the only one here who gets to do whatever they want,” said Malcolm. “How is this more stable than what existed before? Sure, Savior was powerful, but the champions would have held him accountable if he’d attempted even a fraction of what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done is built the foundation for a better world,” said Second Wind. “You of all people should be able to see that.”
Malcolm shook his head. Second Wind glowered at him and glanced around again. He seemed to be making an effort to keep himself calm.
“Look,” continued Second Wind. “Take a couple of hours and just… see what I’ve done here. Can you give me the benefit of the doubt for that long?”
Could Malcolm give him that? He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of, however, was that he didn’t want to fight in the middle of a town filled with innocents. He slowly nodded his head, and Second Wind let out a small sigh.
“Thank you,” said Second Wind. “I know how difficult this all must be for you. All that I ask is that you set any misgivings you might have about my methods aside and just look at the results.”
“I think the results of all that you’ve done go a lot further than this little forest town,” said Malcolm. He bit back another, more biting remark, and walked away from Second Wind.
CHAPTER 33
Malcolm’s copy made no move to follow him, though he suspected that if he tried to take flight, Second Wind would probably stop him. He walked along the town’s dirt road, looking at the various buildings and structures.
Though Olympus clearly hadn’t been constructed using advanced building methods, there was an elegant simplicity to the town. Malcolm realized that what he was looking at was a community built by superpowers.
The ground was unnaturally level, and most of the buildings were constructed on foundations made not of cement, but hardened magma, summoned from the depths of the Earth. Even the logs that composed the walls of the houses looked to fit into each other with an unusual amount of precision, as though the trees had been coaxed into growing in a shape conducive for building.
Malcolm made his way to the gardens, spotting the little spryte girl he’d seen before in the middle of a patch of strawberry plants. The berries were bigger than any he’d ever seen before, easily the size of his fists. The little girl’s face was smudged with red juice and black seeds, and she grinned as Malcolm’s eyes met hers.
“What’s your name?” asked the girl.
Malcolm hesitated for a moment before answering.
“It’s Malcolm,” he said. “What’s yours?”
“Chelsea.” She gave him a speculative frown. “That’s Zeus’s name too, you know. His real name.”
“Is it?” Malcolm chuckled. “Well, I guess lots of people have the name Malcolm. It’s a pretty common name.”
“I forgot my name,” said Chelsea. “I knew it when I was little, but then I forgot it when my skin changed color.”
Her skin was pale green, almost the same color as her eyes. She reached down toward another strawberry plant, and all of the berries seemed to lean in the direction of her fingers.
“How do you know your name is Chelsea, then?” asked Malcolm, in a teasing voice. “What if it’s really Gertrude? Or Petunia!”
“It’s not!” giggled the girl. “My papa told me my name was Chelsea. He told me over and over again until I believed him. It wasn’t fun back then. I always had to hide.”
“Back before you came here,” said Malcolm. “It must have been very tough for you.”
Being a child spryte, back when the Champion Authority hunted monsters indiscriminately. I used to be a part of that, even though I never had to go after any little girls.
Malcolm felt uncertainty settling onto his shoulders, heavy and obnoxious, like water soaking into his clothes. He sighed and slowly shook his head. Chelsea seemed to notice his shift in mood.
“Do you want a strawberry?” she asked.
“I would love one,” said Malcolm.
She picked one of the massive berries and passed it to him. It took Malcolm several bites to eat it, and the juices dribbled onto his fingers.