Archive of Our Own

When Yuu returned to the underground hall, a shout of excitement rang out, louder than usual. Alma came running from a shroud of mist and skidded to a halt in front of him. You almost knocked me over, Yuu wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure his voice was back yet, and settled for glaring as he rubbed his arm where the sting of needles had numbed it.  
 
“They’re coming to visit us, Yuu!” Alma said. He was rocking back and forth on his heels, almost bouncing off the ground. “There are some friends—er, some visitors coming here. Kids like us.”

“Who?” croaked Yuu. He wished his glare had any effect whatsoever. That it were a sort of force field to fend of Alma when he didn’t need all that damn talking.

But it was useless. “They’re coming from real far away, five of them. Renee says we get to meet them soon.”

Yuu glanced at the nearest steaming pool. Alma was always convinced that some other kid was going to crawl out from one, and hell, maybe Yuu had proved him right one single time, but that didn’t mean he was going to be right again.

Yuu could never bring himself to believe, completely, that the people in there weren’t mannequins. Nothing that could wake up.

Alma’s words registered in his mind. “How soon?” he asked, voice hoarse.

  “This afternoon,” said Alma, grinning like anything. Now he was tugging on Yuu’s arm, though couldn’t he see the bandages and how Yuu rubbed at the tingling skin?

“That soon?”

“Come on, you have to go change. Renee brought clothes.” And sure enough, over long pants Alma was wearing a fresh new jacket with long sleeves, a crisp pale-orange pumpkin color dulled by the hall’s lighting.

Yuu looked down at his own shorts, half-jacket, and bandages. He suffered himself to be dragged along. Vocal chords healing up, he voiced his thoughts. “But why do we have to meet them?” A very good question that nobody else seemed to have asked. Alma was—had been—bad enough, and he couldn’t imagine other children being any better.They’d make the lab crowded. They might cry and chatter at him.

Alma wasn’t as bad as that, really. His talking seemed like part of the place now, part of the background, and anyway, he didn’t cry as much anymore.

“I dunno—Renee didn’t tell me. Why not meet them? I think we’re supposed to make friends.”

Dammit, thought Yuu.

They cleared the pools, and Alma snatched up a box that he handed to Yuu with a smile. Yuu ripped the top off and found a dark blue jacket and white pants, an outfit matching Alma’s in design.

As he was tugging the jacket over his head, another question surfaced. “Are they…like us?” The cloth muffled his words.

Alma made a humming noise. “Dunno. I guess not. They weren’t born here, were they?  So they’re not…not going to have experiments done.” His voice turned doubtful. “That must mean they’re…normal?”

Yuu felt the first stirring of curiosity. This made him frown. The scientists mentioned now and then that he and Alma were special, and even though Yuu was no dupe who trusted everything they said, there was proof.: The way he and Alma healed from painful injuries in minutes, for one. The researchers went around bandaged for weeks after Yuu punched and kicked and tried to make them go away. He hardly did that anymore, though.

Did normal children see ghosts?

A normal child, born from a woman’s stomach and not a pond. Coming from the world outside, not this research facility. He wondered what they were like.

A little.

“She said that some might be our age, and she doesn’t know how long they’re staying—I hope it’s awhile, don’t you?—and we should be do the polite thing and say hello.”

But Yuu decided he wasn’t curious enough to follow Alma when, after a period of wild speculation aloud, his self-declared friend announced it was time to go.

“You go meet them, I don’t care,” said Yuu. He wrapped his arms around his knees. “They’re probably a bunch of idiots. Anyway, you’ll just tell me about them later. All about them.”

Surprise, swiftly followed by an upset look. “But—Yuu! It’s not nice to ignore guests. Don’t you want to make friends?”

“No.”

Alma kicked Yuu in the shins; not hard, but he was on the verge of either pouting or starting a scuffle. Unable to work up the energy to hit back or tell Alma he’d ruin his new jacket, Yuu put his forehead on his knees. The moist air of the room chilled his hands.  He told himself he’d changed into the formal outfit because it was warmer.

Alma gave a sharp sigh through his nose, but the sound of footsteps interrupted whatever he was going to yell.  

Yuu looked up to see Renee Epstein with a harried look: the scientist there to collect them. Alma ran along eagerly. Yuu followed only so he wouldn’t be dragged. But he dragged his feet.

The Sixth Lab had three levels. The lowest level contained the hall of pools and a row of small, locked rooms used as cells or for storage. The main level contained the main lab, the cafeteria, and the infirmary; the upper level, officies and the library. Halls on the main level led to more offices, and other halls to who knew where—they were locked and guarded, closed to Yuu and Alma. The Asian Branch had other wings, but Yuu knew this only from passing mentions by the scientists.

One of these main level halls was unlocked today. Through the windowless passage they went, and arrived in an anteroom. There were no tables or chairs, only a woven rug and wall hangings of deep blue shrouding the paler walls. Lamps set in stands lit the four corners. Their light flickered over two unpleasantly familiar figures in crimson robes standing against the back wall. But Yuu had learned to ignore them, at least, and the bile that rose when he saw them.

Not so the four children standing in the center of the room. Four children roughly the age of Yuu and Alma, eyes fixed on them. Three boys and a girl; the boys wore crisp vests and trousers, and the girl wore a long-sleeved blouse and loose pants.

Renee looked for a moment at one of the red-robed figures, then down at Alma, who was eager, and Yuu, who hung back near the door. “You can go on and introduce yourselves,” she said. She spoke as if trying to be gentle, but sounded impatient, maybe anxious.  

Alma, the size of his grin wavering in kind with his confidence and doubt, planted himself in front of the children. “I’m Alma Karma! It’s nice to meet you!” He gave a sweeping low bow, then bobbed up with an expectant look.

Except for one, the others did not smile back. They all watched with serious dark eyes.

“Yuu, why don’t you…” said Renee.

“No,” muttered Yuu.

The visitors bowed in turn.   

“I’m Tokusa. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.” An older boy, taller than them. He was the only one smiling, and then too wide. His hair was tied up high, and he had two marks on his forehead—and so did the rest, Yuu saw.

“Madarao.” Another older boy, with a cold, sharp expression. His eyes flickered to Yuu for a moment. Yuu glared back so hard his forehead started hurting.

“Tevak. Nice to meet you.” An expressionless girl with long, wavy hair. She had a round face and Yuu supposed she was pretty. She looked younger than the first two who had spoken.

“I’m Howard Link…it’s nice to meet you.” A shorter boy with hooded eyes and blonde hair tied back in a braid. He was perhaps closer in age to Tevak. Although his words were polite, there was a wariness to him as he looked at Alma.  

“Will you be staying here for long? Should I show you around?” asked Alma.

“One month,” said Madarao. “You can show us around if you’d like.”

Before Alma could let loose another flood of questions, Renee pushed Yuu forward with a firm hand against his shoulders. “This is Yuu Kanda. He’s also a part of the project.”

“How wonderful to meet you as well,” said the smiling boy—Tokusa—bowing again.

Yuu didn’t bow back. “I can introduce myself!” he told Renee.

Alma turned those round eyes on him in rebuke, and this only made Yuu feel more stubborn. He pulled away from Renee. “What are you doing here?” he asked the strangers, not caring if he sounded rude.

Tokusa and Madarao glanced at each other. Tokusa said, “We’ve come to see the Asian Branch and meet with the two of you. It’s an honor, truly.”

“Why?”

“Well—”

“Yuu, stop asking so many questions, it’s not nice,” said Alma, virtuously. “We should  always be polite to guests.”

Howard Link was fidgeting. He abruptly turned away to rummage through a bag set by the wall near the feet of the larger red-robed Crow guard, and removed a parcel wrapped in cloth. Returning, he opened it to reveal cookies, which he held out towards Alma. The smell was strong and sweet. “I, ah, baked these as a gift for the occasion of our meeting....Try one if you’d like.”

Alma brightened as he took a cookie in one hand and munched on it. “This is really good!”

Howard hesitated a moment before rallying and turning to Yuu. “Would you like to….”

Yuu knocked the box out of his hands. Cookies scattered across the floor. Not a twitch from the red-robed guards, but the attention of everyone else in the room was fixed on Yuu’s upraised hand.

Alma stopped chewing on his and stared at the fallen treats. Howard had a stunned look on his face. Then he dropped to his knees and began gathering the cookies back into the box. After a moment Tevak joined him.  

“Yuu, that’s quite enough!” said Renee. “If you can’t behave yourself, leave!”

“I want to leave! I didn’t ask visitors to come here!” said Yuu. If she felt that way, she should have left him the hell alone in the first place.  

Renee drew in a shaky breath, then said in an icy-calm voice, “There. At least the rest of you were able introduce yourselves in a civil manner. Alma, come along—you’ll be seeing them again soon.” Then, to the room at large, or the red-robed guards: “I’m sorry.”

“Hey—thanks for the cookie. Yuu’s just in a bad mood sometimes,” Alma said to Howard, who was picking crumbs out of the carpet, and to all of them, “Bye.”

Tevak raised a hand in farewell, and Tokusa, his smile tight, bowed his head. Madarao stared with eyes narrowed and head tilted. Howard was ignoring everything that wasn’t on the floor.

Yuu was sure he hated them all.


After time reflecting alone in the safety of the mist-shrouded hall, Yuu reconsidered. After all of Alma’s fretful looks, he thought that maybe behaving himself would be worthwhile. The normal children were unpleasant, but maybe they weren’t that bad. And knocking their gifts away would only make them more irritating.  

Yuu didn’t like the way Madarao looked at them, though. He didn’t like the way any of the other children looked at them, but that boy was the worst.

There were no tests that afternoon. Maybe that was thanks to the visitors, not that Yuu would be grateful towards them. Calmer, he wandered closer to Alma, who sat by one of the pools.  

Alma had nodded off, chin to his chest. No more glares or fretful looks. His latest book, some thick one with skeletons of unfamiliar creatures on the cover, lay next to him.  Yuu prodded his leg with one slippered foot.

Alma gave a half-asleep mumble and woke up, scratching at the side of his head.

“What…?” he asked, smiling and confused.

“The cookies. It was a waste to throw them on the floor.” The words were grudging, but Yuu said them, and wasn’t that what mattered?

“Yeah, it was. Now that Howard boy won’t like you.”

“I don’t care,” said Yuu automatically. He sat next to Alma, back against the wall. But Alma cares, he thought. He didn’t like it, but it was true.

From the hallway drifted the echo of unfamiliar voices.

“…ought to apologize for that.”

“You can’t ask for an apology from a Disciple, Link.”

“They aren’t Disciples yet, are they?” The girl’s voice, quietly, as if to herself.

“Drop it. It doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, very well, but it’s still—”

Yuu’s stomach clenched. He hadn’t thought the others would come to the inner sanctuary. But of course the scientists dropped in and out all the damn time, so why not let the visiting children have the run of the place?

“They’re here!” Alma jumped up and walked towards the entryway.

Yuu was tempted to bury his face in his knees again and ignore everything, maybe pretend he was asleep. Or he could walk straight past them in the other direction (when he wanted to run), but that would be a retreat. So he didn’t. He stayed and watched from the corner of his eye.

The four visitors appeared in the wide hall. They took in the wide space, the sunken pools, the high ceiling—Howard and Madarao stared upwards for so long it seemed odd until Yuu realized they were examining the geometric shapes traced there. He’d never given those much notice before.

“Uh, hello,” said Alma.

Tokusa smiled back at him. “Good evening, Disciple.”  

“It’s Alma.”

“Ah, how gracious of you. But it isn’t right that I address a Disciple so informally.” His smile looked strained.

Even though it was in the name of the project that surrounded them, Yuu wasn’t sure what a Disciple was supposed to be, and he was sure Alma didn’t either.

“Why can’t you?” asked Alma.

Madarao interrupted. “Could you show us this place?”

Close by him, Howard and Tevak waited. Yuu accidentally met Howard’s eye, and looked away.

“Sure!” said Alma. He swept an arm to indicate the pools. “These are where the others are sleeping. The other Seconds will wake up when they’re ready.”

Madarao nodded.

In his element, Alma walked towards the nearest pool, and the four other children followed. It wasn’t as if Yuu wanted to talk with them, but he started to feel left out—this was his home as well as Alma’s—so he stood and joined them in looking down at the pool from the opposite side.

The water was murky. The whitish blotch at the center could have been a human shape, or it could have been sunken machinery.

“This is Claudia De los Reyes. I think she likes mayonnaise too, and her favorite color is light purple.”

Yuu could see Madarao’s brow furrowing from across the pool.

Alma pointed to the next one over. “His favorite color is dark green, but—”

“Could you skip to the important parts?” asked Madarao.

Alma hesitated. “I’m not sure which are the important parts.”

Madarao tilted his head, then tried another tack. “Why are they in the pools?”

“Big brother—” said Tevak, quietly, from his side.

“They’re born from here, like us,” Alma answered happily.

Tokusa had knelt by the pool, staring into it as if mesmerized and breathing the mist in deep. He leaned forward, reaching a hand out to the center where sourceless ripples spread.

“Tokusa! Don’t touch them.” Madarao moved fast and yanked Tokusa back by the shoulder.

Tokusa straightened, his smile an admission of guilt. “Won’t happen again, I assure you.”

 “They’ll wake up sometime soon,” Alma added, though he didn’t sound confident.   

It was odd, thought Yuu, to hear Alma talking to kids other than him. Maybe Alma’d finally gotten what he wanted. Yuu said, “Maybe she’ll wake up right now.” And be locked in rooms and stuck with wires and measured. Maybe the scientists would leave him alone, then.

Alma looked at him from across the pool. “Well…I think she’s just sleeping today.” Then his smile came back. “But you should stay there. I’m sure she’d love to hear you tell her ‘Good morning’ when she does wake up.”

Ordinarily this would have started a fistfight because Yuu would have leapt across the pool and punched  him. “I’m not a stalker!” he yelled.

The visiting children were looking at them oddly. Alma turned back to them, smile bright. “Yuu doesn’t make friends very fast. He’s shy.”

Yuu fumed and plotted revenge.

“Oh, he doesn’t?” said Tevak, probably out of politeness and to break the silence.  

“Nope,” Alma said cheerfully. Then he tilted his head. “You know…Renee said there were going to be five of you. Where’s the other one? When do we get to meet them?”

A shock seemed to run through the others—they shifted slightly, Tevak looking away, Link looking down, and Tokusa’s eyes widening for a moment.

“She’s dead,” said Madarao.

“O-oh—”

“There was an encounter with Akuma.”

“It was such a shame,” said Link. “Moretti was very good. She always did well at—”

“She was too slow,” said Madarao.

Link looked up then, to send a sharp glare at Madarao.

“Er…that’s too bad,” said Alma. “I’m real sorry. I would have liked to meet her.”

Yuu wondered if she would have been any better than the current four. He didn’t care, and the other children obviously didn’t want to talk about it. What did an Akuma look like? The scientists and staff spoke of them rarely, but when they did it was with whispers and apprehension. What was it like to be killed by an Akuma?

And a shiver strong enough to steal his vision shuddered down his spine. His arms shook, and he dug his nails into his knees until the pinpricks brought him back.

A covert glance—nobody had noticed.

“—around the hall,” Madarao was saying. He had one hand resting on the girl’s shoulders. “Big brother” must be close to “friend.”  

“Great! I can show you that,” said Alma. What was he going to tell them, if he couldn’t tell them anything much about the sleepers? This is the wall…. But he dashed off between pools, and Madarao and Tevak followed at a walk.

That left two of them. “Is something the matter?” asked Link.

“No,” said Yuu.

“Would you like to be our native guide?” asked Tokusa.

“There’s nothing to see,” said Yuu. “Just go away.”

Tokusa shrugged, and they walked off in different directions.


The hall of pools smelled like moisture and chemicals. It made Link’s throat itch if he breathed it in deep. If he stood still, it was quiet except for Alma speaking with Madarao and Tevak by the far side of the vast hall. Their voices echoed from the high ceiling.  

The Sixth Lab was a secret and hidden place. They had passed through hidden underground paths, the Asian Branch’s barrier, and guards (the familiar figures of robed adult Crows) to reach this research facility. Those protections aside, the diagram on the hall’s ceiling was a testament to how strongly the facility was guarded. It must have taken two dozen sorcerers to create it. Or fewer, perhaps, since many in China were famed for their knowledge of sorcery. Link and the others had come for a similar reason—certain members of Crow highly skilled in sorcery were stationed here, as was Zhu, another master of sorcery who must be talented, because Secretary Leverrier had studied with him.  

The other reason was to meet the two children who ran around this hall like they owned it.  

Link paused by the rim of a pool and stared into the water. Dark patterns in its surface broke his reflection. He didn’t understand what the pools had to do with Exorcists.

Link headed towards the dais at the end of the hall.

There was a book in his path. He crouched and picked it up by one corner. How to Make Friends?

“Learning something?” asked Tokusa, smirking as he emerged from the haze to Link’s right.

Link frowned at him and, straightening, set the book down again. They strolled towards the dais together. Maybe Tokusa was impressed by it too.

Five enormous tasseled lamps hung above them, emitting a soft light that reflected in the mist. Two enormous crosses flanked the dais. Perhaps they were set with wards too, or perhaps they were there to show that God was watching over the sleeping Exorcists. There was an altar in a raised center alcove, too, a smaller white cross standing out against the deep-gray wall.  

“There’s a chapel in the northern wing,” said Tokusa. “I asked Bao. He said it ought to be all right if we attend.”

“All right.”

“We’ll light white candles,” said Tokusa, and reached over to twist his hand on top of Link’s head, messing his hair.

“O-of course,” answered Link, glaring and leaning away. He tried to fix his bangs.

Tokusa lifted his eyes to the cross.

“Will the Mass be in Mandarin?” asked Link.

“Most likely.”

“Oh.” Unlike the other trainees, Link didn’t know more than the most basic phrases of Mandarin, and that from studying on the journey over. Well, Moretti hadn’t either.

“Why are you complaining? The meaning is the same in any language,” said Tokusa.

“That’s true,” said Link. He didn’t like not understanding things. He turned away from the alcove and looked down at the pools, evenly spaced and perfectly round, from this higher vantage point.

“I wonder why they won’t wake up?” asked Tokusa. Then, bitterly: “When we need them so badly.”

Link got the feeling this was a question that wasn’t supposed to be asked. At least he hadn’t asked it around their superiors. Or Madarao. “I don’t know….”

Xue had forbidden them from bothering the scientists. “Do not interfere with their research,” she’d said, “and never ask them questions.” Xue had traveled from the Asian Branch to meet their party and guide them there. She was in charge of the Crow members stationed at the Asian Branch; a very important person to whom they should listen. They weren’t supposed to pester the Exorcists with questions either, although Madarao had seen fit to ask one or two.

Alma was still talking with Madarao and Tevak. Link wasn’t surprised to see that Alma was doing most of the talking. He searched for the other Exorcist and thought he spotted him sitting by pool they’d looked at before.

They were both so…ordinary. One too talkative and one too angry, but most children weren’t as well-behaved as Tevak and him, anyway, even some of the other trainees, but then, those trainees weren’t talented enough to come. Never mind them.

“How am I supposed to address an Exorcist?” asked Link.

“‘Oh Honored Disciple, how do I serve you,’” answered Tokusa.

Of course Link wasn’t planning to follow Tokusa’s over-the-top example. “I meant their last names, or their first ones, or any titles besides that one. I heard the scientists just calling them Alma and Yuu—but why do they call only one by his last name?”

Tokusa looked taken aback for a moment, then said, “That’s not his last name.”

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s not.” Tokusa laughed softly and elaborated no further.

Confused, Link stared for a long moment at Tokusa and decided not to press the subject. He would see how Madarao or one of the full Crows addressed the Exorcist boys by name.

They stood there silently, gazing across the hall.

When Tokusa next spoke, he spoke almost to himself. “But I wonder why these Disciples have difficulty using their Innocence at once.”

Tokusa definitely wasn’t supposed to question the Exorcists. At least not where anyone could hear him. Link wished Tokusa wasn’t saying such things to him, although secretly he’d wondered the same—Innocence chose the Exorcists, blessed by God, and was compatible with them alone—so what was wrong with these Exorcists, that made them different from the rest? Why did these ones sleep in pools? But he’d never met an Exorcist, so he wasn’t sure.

When he and his companions were older, they would learn the names and powers of every Exorcist in the world. They would be simple to memorize, because there were too few.

“You shouldn’t say those things,” Link muttered. Even though Tokusa was older than him (and a year older than Madarao, even, though they trained in the same year), he caused trouble sometimes.

Tokusa laughed. “Oh, you know I’m never rude, especially not to our honored hosts,” he said, which was exactly his way of being rude. “Stop frowning at me.” He looked downwards towards Madarao, Tevak, and Alma. “We had best try to know them better before we retire for the day.”

Unable to disagree, Link followed the older boy down the stairs, leaving the crosses standing behind them.


The next day the visiting children were nowhere to be found. Yuu checked, walking circumspectly through the labs and checking every open room. He peered through another door.

“Are you looking for something?”

Yuu started and turned to see that Renee had appeared beside him in the hallway. “Where are the visitors?” he asked. “Are they gone now?”

“No, they have training in the North Wing.” She looked bemused by the question, although she couldn’t have thought he wanted to see them.

“Training?”

“Yes, they have lessons with some of the staff here.”

After the scientists made sure he could read and write, Yuu hadn’t had any more lessons, although Edgar had offered and given him books to start his studies. They’d ended up lying neglected in a corner. Alma kept up with his studies, though. He liked reading about science—animals and volcanoes and things. Yuu didn’t care.

“Now come with me, I have to run some tests,” said Renee, grabbing his arm to forestall escape. Yuu was swept along with her.

While he sat on the cold slab and watched meaningless lines wiggling across a screen linked to his arm by tubing and needle, he hoped the other children weren’t coming back from the North Wing. Sure, they’d said they were supposed to get to know him and Alma, but they’d done that yesterday, right? How well did they need to know the two of them, anyway?

Tuyi and Renee’s father were testing Alma today, so Yuu only needed to endure Renee’s tests. He headed back to the hall of pools, which was happily empty, and hid behind a cross by the dais, where he waited fearful and hopeful for the woman he’d once glimpsed to show herself. Or, failing that, for solitude.

These hopes proved false when, later, footsteps disturbed him. Yuu looked out from behind the cross and saw Alma. The newcomers surrounded him.  

“—heals like this, see?” Alma was holding up his arm, bandaged from the elbow to the tip of each finger. “So it’s not so bad.”

The others stared at his arm, and Madarao made some inaudible remark. Yuu decided that Alma was a show-off.

“They make us take pills to help with it. But it doesn’t work if the scientists take them…Yuu!”

Damn. Yuu ducked out of sight, but he’d already given himself away. Reluctantly he emerged from cover and walked down the steps as if he was meant to be there.

If only he were meant to be somewhere else.

Alma planted himself on the floor. The other children settled cross-legged in a semi-circle around him.
 
Should Yuu walk out or stay? Alma was waving him over. Scowling, Yuu sat down beside him.

“Hello,” said Link, who was nearest. He didn’t sound happy to see Yuu either. Only like he was trying to be polite. Braid over his shoulder, he brushed his thumb against the end of it.

“Have you tried the dumplings at the cafeteria yet? The best ones are the beef with—”

Yuu stopped listening as Alma filled the silence with his words, Tokusa putting in a comment here or there. He stared at the long curving arcs and sharp angles decorating the ceiling.

Then Alma said something that froze the room around him. “—said they’re born from a woman’s stomach. Say, do you have a mother?”

And the other children stared at him, then darted furtive glances at each other. Tokusa and Link looked towards Madarao, who didn’t move. Yuu listened now—for what clue, he didn’t know.

“I don’t have a mother,” said Link. He shifted closer to Tevak. “Or a father.”

“Then where were you born from?” asked Alma, faltering.

“Disciple, he means they died before he can remember,” Tokusa said with ragged patience.

“O-oh. I’m sorry….”

“I have a brother,” said Tevak.

Yuu was petty enough to wish she didn’t.

“And I a sister,” said Madarao.  

“I have a mother,” said Tokusa.

“Really?” said Alma, saved. He leaned forward eagerly.

“She entertained gentleman callers—” (and at this Madarao glared for some reason) “—but now she has a shop of her own, where she tells fortunes and serves tea.”

 Yuu tried to picture Tokusa’s mother, but instead the lady in white drifted up as if from a lake. He shook his head to clear it, but she wouldn’t go. She wouldn’t let go of him.

“As for my father, he left us some time ago.” Tokusa gave a shrug. He seemed pleased to share with a rapt audience of one. “But I had—have uncles, perhaps they come by mother’s shop now. If you are ever there, she’ll gladly tell your fortune.”

Yuu knew nothing about fortune-telling, and he couldn’t imagine what there was to tell besides more of the same:  A single dreary tunnel stretching ahead into darkness.

Abruptly, Madarao took ahold of Tokusa’s shoulder. “Spar with me,” he said.

Tokusa looked startled, then said, “Of course.”

Alma looked like he did when Yuu snatched one of his books away mid-paragraph.

The older boys stood and walked clear of the pools. They bowed to each other.     

Then they began to fight, but not the kind of fight that Yuu knew from his rough-and-tumble scuffles with Alma. For one thing, neither of them looked angry.

Madarao and Tokusa moved with an efficient grace. They didn’t flail around, but aimed swift, efficient hits and blocked just as fast. Their fight brought them away from their audience as they remained intent on the match, first one gaining ground and then the other. Yuu realized another odd thing—they weren't trying to hurt each other.

They even seemed to be enjoying themselves.

Madarao was a little shorter, but he pressed the attack. Tokusa took a two hits to the head, which did nothing to damage his good humor, much as Yuu wished it had. After another brief exchange Madarao tripped him up so he fell back, sitting, then placed the side of his hand against Tokusa's throat.

"Your win," Tokusa said. Panting, he stood and they bowed to each other again.

Link and Tevak had been watching their older companions raptly. Now Tevak stood. "It's my turn." She and Madarao bowed to each other, and Link scrambled to his feet to pair off with Tokusa.

Alma scooted close to Yuu. "Want to—"

"No."

"Meanie." Alma prodded Yuu in the ribs and glared.

Yuu glared back. Alma prodded more, probably wanting to make him angry, wanting him to fight. Well, Yuu wasn't going to. He shoved Alma's hand away and refused to turn it into a fistfight. It wouldn't be like the...the sparring that Madarao and Tokusa had been doing, anyway. Somewhere they'd learned to fight like that, but Yuu hadn't. He wouldn't bother to try in front of them.

Distantly he wished he could do that, just to show them. Then his own thoughts made him angry and he shoved them away. He wouldn't copy them.

Link and Tevak were holding their own as they sparred in the same fashion, to Yuu's surprise. They were small—all right, maybe his age—and they didn't look strong.

They lost to the taller boys, Madarao immobilizing Tevak with a deft catch and twist of her arm, and Tokusa out-maneuvering Link and slipping past his defenses to touch his neck. Link frowned in disappointment but gave a deep bow.

Yuu glanced at Alma, who was watching enraptured. If Yuu hit him now, wouldn't he be surprised. He didn't, though.

The children changed sparring pairs again. Madarao launched an overbearing attack on Link, who had his guard up immediately and deflected the blows with his forearms. Maybe they weren't trying to hurt each other or fighting to wound like Yuu and Alma did, but he wouldn't be surprised if they ended with bruises.

Tokusa and Tevak circled each other swiftly. They were nearly chasing each other down the hall.

"They wouldn't do that to the princesses in the stories," whispered Alma close enough to tickle Yuu's ear.

"Whoever you're thinking of, that girl's not her," Yuu hissed back. That girl was planting a roundhouse kick on Tokusa's arm strong enough to send him a few steps back before he regained his balance.

His was distracted by Link falling back against the floor. For a moment it looked as though he'd crack his head open, but no such luck—he blinked up at Madarao, who pinned him to the ground for a moment before letting him up.

Yuu remembered lying on the floor next to Alma as they laughed their heads off. A fierce wave of longing rippled over him, and suddenly he missed that moment more than anything.

"Later," he muttered to Alma.

"Huh?" said Alma, looking over his shoulder as he was distracted from Tokusa and Tevak.

"I'll fight you later," said Yuu. "Like that." Though it wouldn't be the dance-like fighting at all.

It will be better, Yuu told himself.

The others' fighting was different, some weird game. Madarao still didn't smile when he won, though, or laugh or anything. But Yuu suspected he was still having fun—if it were possible for Madarao to have fun.

"Oh, she lost," said Alma. Tokusa had rallied and won against Tevak. Alma was an idiot sometimes, and Yuu called him names in his head.

The matches continued for some time that afternoon. Yuu didn't mind, because watching them fight was better than having to talk to them, or listen to them talk to Alma, anyway, even if nobody was getting hurt. Tevak won against Tokusa on her second try and fought him several matches in a row while Madarao spent time facing Link.

Link was trying hard; Yuu could tell. Madarao was fierce, but Link was stubborn, and near the end of the sparring matches he carried out a series of parries so fast Yuu couldn't follow what he'd done and struck a close-fisted hit against Madarao's chest, near his heart.

"Your win," Madarao said without resentment, and Yuu saw Link smile for the first time: a slight, pleased smirk.


Alma was under the library table with leaves of paper, creating A Daring Plan.

It wasn’t only Daring, it was very, very Secret as well, which was why he wasn’t writing it down or drawing diagrams, just staring at one of the blank pages making it up in his mind. The library smelled like parchment and dust, not like the other rooms, and it helped him think better.

He peeked out from under the table. Renee had fallen asleep with her head on the desk in the corner. She was probably tired because Yuu had been in such a bad mood these days, like he’d been after waking up, and made her chase after him. Sometimes Yuu needed to look on the bright side.  

For example, if he had a Daring Plan, he would have the whole world to look forward to. That’s right, Alma was going to leave the laboratory. He would travel the world, where he’d fight ogres and meet princesses and climb mountains with wise old men sitting on top.

He doodled a blobby map with his pencil.

Nobody else was going to discover the Plan, because it belonged to Alma. He wasn’t going to tell the visitors. Not even Tevak.

He was starting to suspect that normal children were kind of…weird. They acted like they were adults already. They smiled even less than Yuu, except for Tokusa, whose smile seemed stuck on. They’d been all over the world and travelled a long way to visit him and Yuu, so they didn’t need a Plan anyway.  

Just then he heard light footsteps. Usually, if Alma wasn’t with the scientists, he stayed in a place where Yuu could find him in case he wanted to talk—mostly he didn’t, but in case he did—like their bedroom or the hall of pools. Today he’d hidden himself under this table.

He pressed his head to the floor and saw Yuu wandering puzzled into the library as if searching for something. Yuu noticed him and crouched down by the table. “What are you doing under there?” he asked quietly enough not to wake up Renee.

Alma gestured for Yuu to join him. Yuu crawled underneath the table on hands and knees and sat, frowning, with his knees drawn up.

Alma added a circle and a dot to the map where he imagined Taiwan and Hong Kong to be and waited for Yuu to ask what he was doing. Okay, so there was one person he’d reveal the plan to. It would be more fun if Alma travelled the world with someone, and if he left Yuu behind his friend would be lonely, even if he pretended he wouldn’t be.    

“What’re you doing?” asked Yuu, not sounding that interested.

“My Plan,” said Alma.

“Huh.”

Alma decided what he would do in Mongolia: ride horses and live in tents. Maybe there were dragons there.

“Hey…Alma. Have you seen that Fou girl recently?” whispered Yuu.

Alma shook his head. “I only saw her once.” He wished she’d visit again. Fou was nice, and cute, too. “Is this about ghosts?”

From Yuu’s resentful look he guessed that it was. He set down the pencil. “Did you see her again?”

“Well.” Yuu looked away. “Maybe.”

“Hmm.”

In a low voice: “I want to know who she is.”

Yuu had already made him promise not to ask Tuyi and Edgar about the woman. Alma would have to search for the woman herself and ask her.

Yuu got on hands and knees and stole the pencil, then made a lot of oval shapes on one of Alma’s papers. Soon they made a lotus.

“If we went outside the lab, we’d see lots of those in ponds. Real ponds,” Alma said. He began folding his map into smaller squares for safekeeping. “And we could go to gardens and see roses and other flowers growing.”

Yuu just looked at him.

Alma thought that Yuu could use a Daring Plan. Once he put the Plan into motion, they’d leave the lab and go wherever they wanted.

Someday.

[Restore image here]

Yuu looked around his and Alma’s sleeping quarters—bare and cold, except where Alma was sleeping on the slab next to him, hidden by a blanket. The whole place suddenly seemed a stuffy enclosure, so, restless, he let himself out to wander the familiar halls, kicking around and wondering how long the hours until dawn would seem. It wasn’t even midnight yet. Not even close.

When he was about to climb the stairs to the east hallways, he saw someone in the shadows at the top, about to climb down—it wasn’t Alma, who must be back in his room asleep, anyway. His heart jolted for a moment as thought of the ghostly lady, but no, it was child-sized after all. It was Link, holding a book.

“I’m allowed to be out at this hour,” Link said quickly.

“Hmph.” Yuu stomped up the stairs. From above came the distant electric illumination of a light far down the hall.

Link stayed where he was, watching. When he gained the top of the stairs, Yuu made sudden a false lunge towards him. But Link didn’t flinch. He didn’t move at all except that his frown deepened. So Yuu stared back, wondering what he was thinking. It was strange to encounter one of the invaders—the precious visitors—alone. At least it wasn’t Madarao, he thought. They probably would have fought.

A question came to mind. Not one of the dime-a-dozen questions Alma peppered anyone in earshot with, but a very good question.

“Hey. What’s wrong with Madarao?” he asked in a low voice.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong with Madarao? He’s one of the best,” said Link. “If you do stupid things, of course he’ll be angry with you.”

One of the best what? Assholes? thought Yuu. “Is he your friend?” he demanded. The other children were always with each other, so maybe they were like him and Alma.  Link and Madarao didn’t laugh or smile together, though, and when they fought it wasn’t because they were angry.

Link hefted the heavy book higher. “I’ve known him for a long time.”

“Months?”

Link gave a disbelieving stare. “No, years. I’ve known him for almost as long as I can remember. Tevak as well—she’s in my year.” Yuu didn’t know what this meant, but Link sounded proud of the fact.  

Yuu sat on the steps and sat with his chin in his palm, wishing he could puzzle out something.

“We train together often….” Link sat down near Yuu, but with his back all ruler-straight and his knees together. He set the massive book down with care and clasped his hands in his lap.

Surprised that Link had joined him, Yuu wanted to slide away for the show of it, but a tiredness had crept over him, and it just wasn’t worth it. Those tricks hadn’t worked with Alma in the end, anyway, not that this prim and watchful boy was anything like Alma.

“They’re brother and sister, you know,” Link said as if revealing some great truth.

“Yeah, I know. She calls him ‘brother,’” said Yuu. He’d had enough of being treated like an idiot.

Link glanced upwards as the wind blew a hollow sound through the upper floors.

“What’s ‘brother and sister,’ exactly?” asked Yuu. All right, so there were some things he didn’t know. Didn’t make him an idiot.

“You’re siblings when you have the same mother, or father, or both,” said Link. It was the perfect chance for him to go on treating Yuu as stupid, but he wasn’t taking it. Although he still talked too much. “Usually one is raised by the parents who gave birth to you, but there’s also adoption. If you don’t have any, you’re sent to the orphanage or the workhouse.”

Yuu wondered what happened if you were born from a hole in the ground. Scientists stuck wires into you and tried to make you “compatible,” apparently. He didn’t have any parents—sure, there were Tuyi and Edgar, who were a mother and father, but no matter how you looked at it, not his—but at least he had his hole-in-the-ground brother, Alma Karma.

He noticed that Link wasn’t in an orphanage or a workhouse now. “So why aren’t you still there?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, why aren’t you at the orphanage,” repeated Yuu, trying to make Link sound like an idiot in return. He wished Link and Madarao and Tevak were at some orphanage instead of the Asian Branch. Tokusa could go help his mother tell fortunes or something, if he hadn’t been lying.

“The Church is raising me now. I had promise,” he said, voice revealing another hint of pride. He heaved the book onto his lap and let the pages flutter though his fingers without reading. He did this a couple times. “Even the Secretary says I have promise,” he added. And then: “Next I’m going to bake a raspberry and white chocolate cake.”

Already annoyed that he and one of the other children were having a conversation, Yuu thought it would be much easier if the others didn’t speak in disjointed phrases that only made sense to themselves. He snuck another look at the book in Link’s lap. It was unmarked, much larger and more dully colored than the kind of book that usually had pictures of cakes and sweets in it, so he couldn’t be talking about that. A musty smell escaped the book’s pages. It had to be decades old, or older. It made Yuu’s head hurt; Yuu, who didn’t have years, only weeks and the old life-like dreams that flashed through the cracks. He’d only known Alma for months, and then not more than two or three.

He slouched more to make up for Link and rested his head on his drawn-up knees again. He remembered Renee’s father—did Renee have a brother? a sister?—saying above him, “He shows promise,” but if he’d said anything after that, Yuu couldn’t remember. He just…couldn’t remember.

The adults, the scientists and cooks, talked about the war all the time. Not always right out, but it was there in staff members never returning, hometowns lost. Sometimes the Church came up. Were Yuu and Alma being raised by the Church, then? He didn’t feel like he was being raised by anyone.

And if Madarao and the others were being raised by the Church, were they being tested too? Back where they came from, did scientists in starched white stick them with needles and wires and see what they could do? With a dull viciousness he hoped they’d done that to Madarao, but his mind shied away from the thought and he felt ashamed. He looked at Link, who was absorbed in picking a crusted stain off the inside cover of the book. Alma had said they were normal. If scientists tested them in the same way, they’d die, right?

But what if they were the Second Exorcists instead of Alma and Yuu, how much better would that be! They were only visitors, though. They hadn’t come to be experimented on. Some of the scientists blabbered about how Alma and Yuu were chosen, chosen, chosen, the stupid chosen ones for the fucking Innocence. Yuu didn’t remember making any choices.

“You never apologized for the cookies, you know,” Link said.

“That was days ago. Why should I?” asked Yuu, irritated again by his accusing tone.

“Because that was very rude of you,  knocking them onto the floor.”

Not as rude as coming here just when Yuu had learned what was going on, who he could listen to, how to endure. When things were going good with Alma. (Because they’d arrived at friendship, somehow, thanks to Alma’s damn annoying persistence and cheer.) And he’d felt like he’d been near to discovering something on the edge of sight or the edge of waking, or something right beside him that he couldn’t see, but now the visiting children were there, watching and getting in the way. The scientists didn’t observe him all the time. He might find himself in the hall of pools, waiting for a woman to emerge from the air. Sure, sometimes Edgar came to claim him for an emergency test or share an old story, but that was different; the scientists belonged there.

The other children didn’t belong.

But that reason would take too many words to explain, so Yuu didn’t explain anything.

“Well then,” said Link. Then he became polite again. “I had better sleep. It’s gotten too late.” He stood and tucked the book under his arm. Alma sometimes read when he was supposed to be sleeping, too. “Goodnight.”

“Hm. ’Night,” muttered Yuu.

He waited until the echoes of Link’s footsteps receded down the stairs and away, then flopped down and curled up at the top of the stairs.

Sunk half into dreams, he sensed that he’d fallen into a place too deep to climb out of. How cruel to send more to torment him. If he’d done something to deserve this, how cruel that he couldn’t remember it.

He curled tighter, feeling his own warmth, and fell asleep.


When Tuyi returned to her private office, there was a Crow beside the door. The Crow silently followed her inside once she’d unlocked the door.

The office was a small space where Tuyi went to read reports and analyze data in peace. The true office of the Asian Branch Chief was in the North Wing, and these days it was occupied most often by her son. All she required of this room was a desk, the latest records that lined the shelves, and solitude.

Tuyi tossed her sheaf of notes onto the desk. “What is it?”

“The trainees arrived not a week past, Branch Chief,” said the Crow by way of introduction, and Tuyi was not surprised that it was the voice of Yan Xue, who served as spokesperson for the Crow guards stationed at her research facility. The only thing Tuyi knew about Xue was that she was from Northern China, and this she knew from how her accent sometimes slipped into that of Shaanxi. Always deferential, Xue was equally unyielding—and why would she yield when her orders came directly from the Secretary at Central?

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” said Tuyi. She’d received reports from Xue, and a shorter but more elucidating memo from Renee Epstein. Renee’s account had been the only one to mention why there were four visiting trainees instead of the promised five. Tuyi began straightening the papers she’d so carelessly tossed on her desk. It never took Xue long to reach the point, but in the meantime….

“They will be witnessing tomorrow’s experiments,” Xue said.

Tuyi looked up with alacrity, wearing the frown that got her subordinates moving. “It was my understanding that they would be seeing as little as possible of the lab’s actual operations.”

“This is an opportunity for them to gain experience unavailable elsewhere,” said Xue with her usual placid tone, “and will be part of their getting to know the subjects.”

Tuyi didn’t ask how watching Alma and Yuu in agony would help the trainees know them better. It was, of course, all about their precious  training.

Xue continued, “Of course, they will not be given any more information than required, and the origins of the Second Exorcists will not be explained to them at this time.”

Tuyi turned to face the Crow. “I don’t think that any of this is a good idea. Bringing children here is…less than wise.”

“These trainees were chosen by virtue of being the most talented among their peers. They would die before compromising the secrecy of our experiments.”

Tuyi pressed her lips together tightly.

“They are as loyal as you and I, Branch Chief, and fight in this battle willingly.”

“Of course they do,” said Tuyi, and the coldness in her voice came through undisguised.

Xue tilted her masked and cowled head. One or perhaps both of them had gone too far. But if Tuyi with the authority of a Branch Chief could not voice her opinion, then for God’s sake who could?

“And what would you have them do? Die, or be sold, or sent to the workhouse, or live lives empty of purpose?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Tuyi said coolly. From the way Xue said it, she was listing precisely what would have happened to each of those children had they not been picked up by the Vatican. She suspected it was the first time she’d heard Xue express a personal opinion, but then, Tuyi had had touched on the Crow woman’s own circumstances. How many millions had died in the rebellion up north (and that only one turmoil of many)? Tuyi would not be surprised if everyone Xue had known as a girl were among them. None of this meant Tuyi’s observation was incorrect. Maybe she’d let emotion get the better of her, but it was the ongoing experimentation on Alma and Yuu that had put her nerves on edge—and everyone knew whose idea this project had been.

“Your son is fortunate, Branch Chief. Born to two loving parents who are still with him, and in line to inherit a high—”

“I’ve heard enough, Xue,” said Tuyi. How dare she bring Bak into this? As if she and Edgar were not acutely aware of their son’s good fortune day in and day out. Aware, too, of his misfortune, the burden of responsibility coupled with the likelihood of becoming their enemies’ target. She was unsure if Xue spoke from ignorance or knowledge, but Tuyi didn’t need to hear it. “You may let them observe tomorrow. Inform me if they’re to do anything else that requires a higher security clearance, but otherwise I will leave them and their training to you.”

“Understood, Branch Chief.” The Crow bowed her head, sounding contrite in her humility. Then she looked up again. “It will be appreciated if their training here concludes without interruption.”

Xue was in the habit of giving such asides. The Secretary would be pleased if you ran this test more often, or It might be welcome if you submitted this data early. It seemed to be Xue’s method of giving advice, and Tuyi found it useful.

“Then let’s be sure to cooperate on this matter. Now if you’ll excuse yourself, I had best get to work on today’s records."

Xue gave Tuyi her thanks and let herself out. Tuyi sat down for a long night of comparing figures collected from the suffering of two boys far more unfortunate than her son or Xue’s little trainees.


The silent Crows were dragging Yuu back to the slab where the Innocence waited to sink its tendrils into him again. The scientists were near, watching. As he looked up with bleary eyes, a shock—the four children were behind the window too. And they too were fucking watching him. Faces close behind the glass, where they could see everything, though they wouldn’t be able to hear through the thick pane.

Well, he’d watch them right back. Yuu narrowed his eyes, just able to make them out from the position he was secured in for the scientists to do their work.

Madarao—no expression at all. Did he have one, besides the contemptful look he gave? Fucking bastard. He wasn’t feeling anything at all.

Tevak, too, she wasn’t showing anything on her round little face. Just looking with empty eyes.

Tokusa, though, he was showing too much. He was leaning closer, eyes eager and wide. What the hell was he looking for?

Link looked ill. He bit his lip. Looked like maybe he didn’t want to be there, and didn’t Yuu feel the same way? Want to trade places? And Link looked away for a moment, just a flicker away.

Then the pain clawed Yuu's head open and he couldn’t see them anymore.


The four of them were fortunate that Branch Chief Chang had allowed them to witness the experiments, Xue had told them. It was important enough that they were supposed to die rather than spill any part of the secret, the same way they must treat the existence of the research facility itself. It was that great of an honor. The Branch Chief and the other scientists working today were in another room where Link and the others couldn’t hear them or see them to read their lips.

It was the first time he’d seen Innocence, too. Innocence was a winged white thing perched across from them, beyond the pane of glass.

He knew it was an honor. But he didn’t feel lucky to be there.

Maybe he hadn’t expected that much blood. Not that he minded blood; being frightened  of it still would be foolish.  

First of all Xue and a man whose mannerisms Link didn’t yet recognize had been making sure Yuu stayed securely strapped to the slab. Yuu’s eyes were closed. Then the scientists must have done something, because an eye-piercing glow flashed out of nowhere, and Yuu was writhing and screaming though they couldn’t hear him, and then, his flesh strangely transparent, his skin seemed to burst apart. Eyes smarting from the pain of the light, Link didn’t have time to catalogue all his wounds before Xue and the other Crow blocked their view and moved Yuu to be hooked up to another machine and tested. There were deep cuts, certainly, and to his amazement  the edges of the wounds began to close as he watched.

The blood was still there, spattering the floor and table and Yuu. Not the pure-white Innocence, though.

The Innocence didn’t have a face, but Link felt like it was staring down at them, and at Yuu even more. It loomed over him, focusing its scrutiny on him like a needle. Link was in awe.

And a little sick.

Once an instructor had brought in the corpse of a dead convict to teach them about the human body. Of course, a decomposing dead thing was unpleasant, but Link had dealt with it perfectly well. He’d made his sketches, learned a lot.

(He thought of Moretti and the red color from when her skull caved in. He wished he hadn’t thought of that, but it came to him anyway.)
    
Probably it was because Kanda wasn’t a dead criminal.

As Link was watching, Kanda looked back at him. Link averted his eyes without thinking.

Only for a moment, though. On the other side, Xue was checking the straps. They were going to do the same thing again. Link thought he might be sick. He glanced quickly at the others—Tokusa really needed to learn to control his expression, didn’t he—and then turned away from the glass pane. Madarao turned his head. Link saw that Madarao and Tevak were holding each other’s hands tightly.

His back to Yuu and Xue and his companions, Link stared at the rest of the observation room. The door, closed, was right there. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said in a low voice. “I have to leave…”

“Link,” Madarao said sharply. “Stay here.”

“But I—”

“You’re supposed to observe this.”

Link couldn’t deny it. Xue had ordered them to. Besides, if the other trainees could bear to watch it, including Tevak, who was youngest, then so could he. He wasn’t sure Madarao had any right to tell him so while he was holding Tevak’s hand, but he wouldn’t mention that.

Reluctant, but determined to see it through, he turned back to the window. A straining hand with tendons taught, the underside of the chin as Yuu arched his neck.

Link saw everything, although in his mind he practiced the writing of complex secret codes over and over again.

[Image no longer available]

“Practice the calligraphy on your own for the rest of the hour,” Master Zhu said.

Afterwards they had gone on to the midday lesson. Master Zhu was a kindly man who tended to fat, but he had created, with a single talisman plucked from the air, a shield strong enough to make Link’s teeth ache and the hairs on his scalp stand on end from across the room.

Now he left them. The four of them sat around a table and wrote the ideogram meaning to bind with long-stemmed brushes. They were not making real talismans, of course not, because they needed to become adept at writing properly first.

When Link wrote, the strokes were too uniform in width, not at all like the elegant lines of Zhu’s examples. He snuck a look at the others’ work. Madarao’s lines were too heavy, and Tevak’s even thicker. Tokusa, though, drew fine sweeping curves, his brush held with a sure hand. Link took another sheet and tried to do the same, but the brush wouldn’t do as he wanted.

They worked in silence under the eyes of two superiors. But once Tokusa had produced a dozen acceptable examples (and try as he might, Link, new to the skill of Chinese calligraphic writing, could find no fault in them except a stray spot of ink) he said, “Will the  Disciples be well enough to meet with us this afternoon, I wonder?”

He had addressed the trainees, but Xue answered, “Yes” in her placid yet authoritative tone. She stood by the left wall. Across from her stood Bao, a large man with long hair. His hood was down, although Xue’s was not.

Tokusa bobbed his head in her direction.

Tevak said in a small voice, “They recover fast….”

Tokusa cleaned his brush in the shallow dish of water and dipped it in the ink again. “Of course they do. The Disciples are sure to become fine soldiers—their talents are quite admirable.”

“They’re nothing but stupid dolls,” said Bao.

Link was shocked. How could he say something so rude about Exorcists-to-be? Tokusa too looked taken aback.

Madarao paused for a brief moment, then ignored Bao’s words to continue what he’d been doing. Link took his cue from that. When he looked down, there was an ink blot spreading across his paper.  He hastily folded that paper in half and put it beneath the others.

Before Tokusa had fished up an appropriate reply, Xue spoke sharply. “Bao! You should not speak like that about the test subjects.”

After a pause, Bao made a monotone sound of assent. Tokusa smiled faintly—his back was to Bao—and drew to bind in a style nearly identical to the one on the binding talismans.

The tension in Link’s shoulders lessened. Xue was right, Bao shouldn’t say such insulting things, much less about those whom they were sworn to protect. Of course, sometimes Exorcists refused to fight and do their duty (or so certain of his instructors said), but that didn’t change the fact that they were chosen by God.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had made Bao call them that name, though.

Thinking about it made him uncomfortable. He ought to be concentrating on his task, anyway. Maybe he wouldn’t catch up to Tokusa soon, but he could try his best. Link stole another glance to the side. Tevak’s lines were now too thin.

Link wrote the characters one after the other: to bind, to bind, to bind.


It wasn’t that Yuu wanted to spend time with the visitors. But Alma did, and it was boring without Alma. Maybe he could watch them fight again.

Those were his excuses for being in the hall of pools.

He was sitting on the hard floor near Alma, who would rather talk to Tevak. “That was when Edgar said, if I want to try tiramisu, he would make sure we got the right ingredients in fresh. So the next week—”

Tevak was nodding and making faint noises of agreement. Next to her sat Link with a book, not the enormous volume he’d been hauling around before, but a slender unmarked volume. Occasionally he would glance towards Alma and Tevak with a frown or respond to whatever Alma was saying. The two older boys were conversing a ways off, but Yuu could still hear them.

“…sent them to attack the flank.”

“Why not hold them in reserve?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Tokusa. Listen to me.” Madarao shot a glance towards Alma and Tevak and fell into a silent glower for moment.

Tokusa did much the same, but while smiling, before saying, “Then go on.”

Alma hadn’t noticed. “And it was just as good as I expected!” he concluded.

Tevak rewarded this with a nod.

Alma gave his wide smile, then stared at her with round eyes. He leaned towards her—she leaned back—and then poked a finger at the red marks on her forehead.

“You—you should be more polite,” said Link, but was ignored.

“Hey, what are these? I thought you all had a rash, but that’d be a weird rash, huh?” said Alma.

“These?” said Tevak. The question seemed to puzzle her. “These are because I’m in Crow.”

Numbness spread through Yuu’s chest. Had she said that in reality? Or was he slipping into hallucinations again, ready for flowers and voices?

“What?” asked Alma, laughing a little. His voice was clear through the pressure in Yuu’s ears, so maybe he’d heard the same.

“It’s because I’m in Crow,” repeated Tevak.

“You really didn’t know that?” said Link, setting down his book. “But that’s what these mean. They wouldn’t let just anyone come here.”

The numb feeling sank deep into Yuu’s stomach. He gripped his arms tight so his hands wouldn’t shake. Why hadn’t Renee told them? Then he quashed the urge to laugh. It was damn obvious why; he was the reason, sitting right here.

“Of course we’re only trainees now,” Link was explaining.

“My brother and Tokusa will be true members soon.”

“That’s right, and not so long for us—”

“Hey, hold on!” Alma raised his hands, palms out. “Crows are the guards in red. Adults. You’re like us!”

Not like you, thought Yuu. Or me. Good fucking thing. He looked at Madarao with new eyes and had never hated anyone so much, not that he could remember. When he looked at the others, he felt the same. He’s found an explanation for the hatred he felt towards them from the beginning, if it wasn’t just an excuse.

“That’s why I said we’re training,” said Link. “What did you think we were doing here?”

Yuu didn’t know anymore. Head light and empty, he only realized he’d stood after he was on his feet. “If you’re one of those bastards, get the fuck out.”

“Yuu!”

“You heard them! They’re not here to make fucking friends with you!”

And that one hurt Alma, as he’d known it would. He could see the hurt on Alma’s face.

 “We are here to get to know you better,” Link corrected him. Alma looked grateful, not that Link noticed. Wary and tensed to move, he and the girl were watching Yuu. “So there’s no need to act so rude, or make us sound like that, or—use those words!”

Madarao and Tokusa stood, walked over with exaggerated care. Yuu looked them up and down with contempt, though his was a speck compared to what lay beneath Madarao’s expression.

Yuu turned to Alma. “Those monsters have to come from somewhere,” he said. That was the closest word he could find—they’d grow up into fucking faceless monsters.

Madarao stared at him with cold eyes, but oh, he’d found another target, one much less innocent than Alma—he’d hit home with Tokusa at least. “I’m sorry, what did you call us, Disciple?”

“Just get the fuck out, bastards,” said Yuu, fists clenched. Sure they were older and taller, but not by much, and they didn’t heal like he did. He could make them bleed.

“Oh, we can’t do that. We came all this way to get to know you better.” Tokusa’s smile looked pained.

The younger visitors were standing now, too, at a careful distance.

“I know everything I need to know about all of you,” said Yuu. “You’re all worthless.”

Alma, about to speak, put a hand on his shoulder. Yuu shoved him away. Alma didn’t retaliate.

“I’ve learned quite a bit about you two, as well,” said Tokusa. “How you hold no regard for your abilities as Exorcists, and squabble like children when you could—”

“I didn’t ask to become a fucking Exorcist!”

“And yet you are.” Tokusa’s voice was quick and soft and venomous.

“Even if I weren’t, it’s better than what you are!” He could see all of them bridling at this insult.

“Care to prove it?”

“Tokusa!” Madarao was angry at them both, but Yuu guessed he wouldn’t stop them, because of his anger.   

Tokusa gestured for Madarao to move back. “It’ll only be a brief sparring match, how does that sound, Disciple? If you can restrain yourself long enough for something more civilized than a brawl, that is…”  

Yuu held himself back for the space of two more words.  “I’ll spar,” he said, and then he snapped.

Tokusa met him, twisted his punch around and away with all the ingrained grace of the trainees. Now Yuu knew where they’d learned it. The Crow guards, adults, were efficient like this. He’d noticed no grace then, too busy being slammed to the floor by force of spells.

He lashed out, kicking with devastating force. Tokusa moved back—not a retreat, said his sly smile. He tread along the pool’s edge, circling. Yuu slipped and grabbed at Tokusa’s ankles; Tokusa kicked him in the temple.

His slipper wasn’t hard, but there was strength in the blow. Yuu’s head rang. One of the visitors may have been shouting, and Alma too, but the ringing in his ears clamored over it, and his rage was stronger still. He drew his hand back for a moment but launched himself bodily at the boy he fought. Tokusa tripped him up and shoved him aside. Yuu landed, solidly enough to keep from falling into the pool of some sleeper whose name he’d forgotten.

Tokusa straightened, hair loosening from his high ponytail. “Do please try harder, Disciple,” he said.

Jaw clenched, Yuu couldn’t speak.

He attacked again in silence. Tokusa kept deflecting his punches, aiming a kick when he could. The kicks most often landed. Whatever anger was doing to him, it wasn’t making him lose control. Yuu’s fist grazed the side of his arm, but it wasn’t enough. Tokusa moved so that he avoided the brunt of the attack. Sure enough Yuu’s bruises were healing, and the blood from where he’d bitten his tongue was nothing, but he didn’t care, he wanted to mark his enemy, not end the fight unscathed.

He seized Tokusa’s wrist on the next pass. And Tokusa flipped his arm around to slip out of his grip. Yuu almost pulled away, the instinctual reaction. Then he changed his mind.  

And in return for a twisted arm as he kept his hold, he kneed Tokusa in the stomach—was blocked by Tokusa’s other hand—punched him in the jaw.

Tokusa staggered back, hand lifted to touch the bruise. He recovered himself a moment later. He’d had a moment’s surprise, now covered by a bitter smile.

“Yuu, you should stop—”

“Alma, shut up!” shouted Yuu without looking. He made sure his right arm wasn’t too twisted as it healed. It was a minor injury. Only took a moment.

He pressed the attack again. Tokusa’s countering blocks were less graceful but efficient still. For a moment Yuu noticed the surroundings that had blurred from his focus on Tokusa. They had cleared the pools and were fighting at the edge of the great hall. His hall and Alma’s—he refused to lose.

By luck or strength Yuu didn’t know, but a kick to Tokusa’s foot landed and he was almost surprised when his opponent lost his balance. Not enough to fall. But he was distracted, and when Yuu grabbed his right forearm and pressed, fingers one way and thumb another, it was too late for him to pull free.

Tokusa suppressed a cry as his arm snapped. He was pushed to the floor and Yuu let go of his arm to better punch him again. But Tokusa, head still bowed, shot to his feet and shoved shoulder-first into Yuu, who fell back. Grabbing at Tokusa’s shirt, he pulled the other boy back with him, and then Tokusa kicked him away hard. Fabric tore off in Yuu’s hands and his back took the impact of the tile floor.

When he got to his feet again, Madarao was standing between him and Tokusa.

Enough to give Yuu pause.

“Tokusa!” Link called, running up to his companion. He took in the broken arm and glared at Yuu from Tokusa’s side. Ready to fight himself, and hadn’t that weak-looking boy won against Madarao once?

Tevak ghosted past Yuu and stood beside Madarao. She stood with arms held folded oddly, tensed for a counterattack.

 He didn’t care if he had to fight them all. It was what he fucking wanted.

From behind, Alma grabbed him around the shoulders. “Just calm down, Yuu! You’ve already won!” It was the frustrated yelling that came before tears.

Yuu elbowed him away. Turning furiously and not caring when he saw the stubborn anger on Alma’s face, he said, “I told you to leave me alone!” Alma ought to be able to see who their enemies were. Even if tears were forming at the corners of his eyes.

Not caring if it was a good idea or bad, Yuu whirled back to launch himself at Madarao.

“Binding Wings.”

Tevak’s quiet voice. He glimpsed her hand lifting from her sleeve and flicking out a paper charm. Then he slammed onto the tiles, face-first this time, forehead and ribs and forearms taking the impact of a gravity he couldn’t fight.

He lay there surrounded by the paper-and-sorcery barrier, too stunned to even try to move. He noticed a sudden absence of sound—Alma had been shocked out of crying and stopped his sniffling.

“I’ll make sure he remains immobilized,” said Madarao from above. Past the barrier, Yuu stared at his slippered feet and Tevak’s smaller ones. “One of you go alert an adult.”

“I will, big brother.” The smaller feet turned  and disappeared.


A Disciple had broken Tokusa’s arm. It was almost enough to make you laugh.

Surrounded by his companions, Tokusa walked slowly down the brightly-lit basement corridor. Tevak was ahead next to Miss Epstein, who, having contacted the infirmary and told them to be ready, was now bemoaning the incident as she led them there.

“I knew I should have kept observing them! Yes, it’s Central’s business, yes, you can take care of yourselves—Yuu Kanda is vicious sometimes. I should know that! How Father will yell.”

Tevak, obviously confused as to the proper response, just nodded at her.

Tokusa braced his arm against his chest. It hurt like hell, and he was taking slow breaths and concentrating on the mental techniques they used to block off the pain. They didn’t make his arm hurt less, but they helped him close it off to focus on other things. A slow breath in, a slower breath out.

The fact that a Disciple had done this proved distracting. Even if Yuu Kanda wasn’t an Exorcist yet. Even if he acted nothing like one.

Madarao walked to his right. He was watchful of their surroundings, although at this particular moment his gaze was on Tokusa. Yes, Tokusa was going to hear strong words for this one.  

On his left, Link was fussing over him and offering enough support, arm through his, that you’d think he’d broken his leg and couldn’t walk. “That was a terrible thing for him to do,” Link said. “And to think he didn’t even know we were in Crow! Why would he hate us for that, though?”

They started on the stairs up. It wouldn’t be too much farther, Tokusa told himself. As for Link’s question, he had a few ideas involving Crow members strapping Kanda and Alma down for experiments. Not a one of these ideas excused Kanda’s false and ignorant slurs against them.  

Tokusa perhaps exempt from answering by virtue of his injury, Madarao took the question. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying. It’s not Crow’s fault if he doesn’t cooperate.”

Wonderful, the top of the stairs achieved. As they walked along, Miss Epstein looked back at him. She looked harried. “I’m so sorry about this. He was damn rude to…well, excuse my language. But it was rude of him to go as far as breaking your arm, though I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“I-it’s quite all right,” Tokusa said, smiling. “I’ll recover quickly, so long as he pays me no visits.”  

Miss Epstein sighed and turned away again, hurrying to lead them. “We’ll be keeping him in isolation for awhile. He’ll calm down eventually.”

Well, well. There was justice for you. Tokusa knew he’d acted wrongly himself. Xue would rebuke him for his behavior, and possibly rebuke Madarao and the others for allowing it. And the fact remained that he’d picked a fight with an Exorcist and hit him. He shouldn’t have been so foolish.

Next time, Tokusa thought, he’d stick with well-placed words. Lord knows he’d gotten into trouble for those, too, but they were superior to fistfighting and getting his arm broken. Because despite his words to Kanda, he’d been used his skills for nothing more than brawling. At least he wouldn’t have used enough force to break Kanda’s bones.

He was fairly certain this was true.

 
"Yuu, you have to play nice," Edgar said.

Yuu looked out through the holding cell window across from the bench where he sat. The door was reinforced steel and set with three padlocks. It was hard to hear through the window glass (also reinforced), so Edgar was speaking loudly.

Renee had already spent an hour shouting at him about controlling himself. Yuu had stared off into the corner the whole time, which might not have been an hour and had only felt like it.

"I know you're angry, Yuu, but don't take it out on them. They're children like you."

Yuu stared into the corner again and pretended not to hear. Since there was a door between them, Edgar might be fooled.

After a moment Edgar’s voice continued, more muted now. "I know it's hard...I know you have reasons to be angry, like when you broke my arm, right?" Edgar laughed, sounding embarrassed. "You didn't know what was going on, and....Well, now you should know better." Another pause. "You probably heard all this from Epstein already."

This wasn't true. Renee had fixated on the part where he ought to know better. Yuu thought Edgar might be worse.

"I'm sure that boy Tokusa isn't that polite himself—"

Yuu guessed Edgar hadn't met Tokusa.

"—but please, don't pick fights with him or hurt him or the other children."

Yuu cast about for words, because there was one thing he wanted to know. "Edgar...you do know they're Crows, right?"

He had to repeat it before Edgar could hear him. Once he had, his eyes widened and he didn't answer right away.

"Well, yes—they're Crow trainees. But they’re still children.”

“No they aren’t!” They were, of course, but that wasn’t what Yuu meant. “They’re fucking monsters!” He looked up, and through the cloudy glass caught the terribly sad expression on Edgar’s face before he took a step back from the cell window.

“They’re human beings like you are, Yuu. Please leave them alone—they don’t want to hurt you.”

It was the stupidest thing Yuu had ever heard him say. Why was Edgar defending them? What gave Edgar the right to say such things when he and Tuyi did experiments that hurt Yuu and Alma? Yuu didn’t think Edgar wanted to hurt them, or Tuyi either. If he thought about it, he knew they didn’t. That did nothing, fucking nothing at all, to change the fact that Edgar and Tuyi did hurt them.

“Edgar, go away.”

“Yuu—” Edgar hesitated, said, “Try to get some rest” just loudly enough for him to hear, and retreated.

Yuu wasn’t sure how long afterward it was that he felt a pressure behind his eyes and opened them to see her in front of him. He was no longer in a cell but a huge, dark space, and she, bright like starlight, was in the middle of it, staring at him.

He was afraid that if he stepped out towards her he would sink and fall forever. He could smell ripe summer grass and pool-water. There was a hint of another smell: oil, hot metal. As soon as he caught it, the scent grew stronger. She was still looking at him. His head felt like it would burst, suddenly filled too full with terror and elation.

Doubling over, Yuu clutched his head, which did nothing to stop the line of pain splitting his skull.

“I’ll keep waiting for you,” he though he heard her say through the white noise.

His breaths were sharp gasps. Cautious, he raised his head and opened his eyes a crack.

Now it was just a cell. He was alone.

Yuu didn’t know anymore whether he wanted her to come back or stay away.


“But when can I see Yuu?”

“Not now, Alma.” Renee sounded tired. She was striding ahead of him down the hall, clipboard under her arm.

“But he’s probably lonely,” said Alma, knowing Yuu wasn’t. And if he was, he wouldn’t say. “Even for a few minutes?” he pleaded.

“It’s not allowed,” she replied, words clipped. She talked like she was Branch Chief Tuyi sometimes.

“But…” Alma sighed. They obviously weren’t going to let him visit Yuu. Maybe he’d try to find a way to sneak to him when nobody was around. Except there were a lot more guards in the hallways after the incident two days ago. He came up with another idea. “How about the other kids? Can I visit Tokusa?”

Renee paused long enough for him to catch up. “You want to visit them?” she said in surprise. Then she looked away. “Well. I doubt they’ll let you, but I can ask…”

“He’s staying in the infirmary,” Alma said helpfully. He danced ahead and took the correct turn.

Renee shook her head as she followed. “You’re going to break his other arm, aren’t you.”

“I will not! Besides, that was Yuu’s fault. Mostly.”

“Yes, yes, fine. I’m not gonna babysit you, though—I have to write up today’s results.”

Renee must need to sleep, too. “Hey, did you ever want to be something besides a scientist?” asked Alma.

He’d surprised her again. Dr. Edgar had chided him for speaking without thinking before. This must count as one of those times.

“Like what?” she asked.

“I don’t know. A princess.”

She gave a wry smile at that. It was a better look than the exhaustion. “Princesses don’t exist. Well, they do, but not the kind you’re thinking of.”

“They do so,” said Alma.

“What, you can’t possibly think that Tevak girl’s a princess.”

How did she know? Alma gave a loud, embarrassed laugh. “Well, maybe not her, then. But somewhere.” He had the feeling there was one somewhere. It was an odd feeling, tickling the back of his mind, and he felt uneasy for a moment.

“I always wanted to be a scientist,” Renee said firmly, “and help the Order that way. Besides, my father was…ah, here we are.”

 Two Crow guards stood by the door. They didn’t move when Renee strode up to them. “Alma would like to visit the boy who—he wants to visit Tokusa,” she said, not sounding like she expected this to work. Alma bounced on his heels, anxious. He gave the Crow guards his most innocent look. If he couldn’t visit Yuu, he wanted to visit someone, even the older boy with the weird smile who maybe hated Yuu.  

One Crow conferred briefly with the other. The shorter one, a woman, said, “He may enter.”

“Maybe Tevak is there,” said Alma, hoping to remind Renee of princesses and make her smile again, but she just watched the shorter guard unlocking the door.  
 
Tokusa was sitting in a cot with white sheets. It looked soft compared to Alma’s bed. His right arm was in a sling. Alma and Yuu would never have to wait days to heal from something like that. Tokusa had a small book in his lap, but he closed it as Alma entered. He looked surprised, and confused.

“Hi, Tokusa!” Alma said. “I wanted to tell you sorry about what Yuu did. He gets really angry sometimes.” He glanced back at Renee, who was hanging around in the doorway.

“Don’t you cause any problems,” she said, and then left. One of the Crows, the Crow adults, stared at him for a moment (or her mask did).

The usual smile slid onto Tokusa’s face. “Why, Disciple, how kind of you to visit me here.” Then he sounded truly polite, not like a joking child, as he said in Chinese, “Ah, Xue, I don’t think there shall be any problems.”  

The Crow shut the door. Even though Tokusa was the nicest of the children—well, maybe he wasn’t so nice, plus he’d gotten angry and fought Yuu, but he smiled, he was easier to talk with—it was awkward to be alone in a room with him, Tokusa with his arm broken and Alma knowing he was a Crow like the ones with paralyzing charms and needles.

“I hope it doesn’t hurt too much. They have medicines and things here, if you need them. Did you have lunch yet? I had the pork dumplings again.”

Tokusa set his book on the small wooden table by his cot. “It’s not so bad. I’ve had worse. And Master Zhu knows sorcery that will speed my healing…As for lunch, they aren’t starving me.” He laughed.

Alma wondered if it was as bad as what he’d had. He decided the answer was no, because then Tokusa would be dead. “Oh…that’s good.” He shifted from foot to foot. Sometimes his brothers and sisters in the pools were easier to talk to. “Why do you call me ‘Disciple?’”

“Because you’re an Exorcist. God’s chosen.”

From the look in Tokusa’s eyes, Alma got the feeling his question had hurt him. He had better change the subject as soon as he could. “They’re trying to make us Exorcists, but—”

“You are an Exorcist, just of a different kind.”

 Alma looked down at his slippers. It seemed dangerous to deny it. He looked up again. “I guess. Hey, do you need any more books? I can bring you some from the library.”

“This is enough, thank you. Madarao would no doubt say something about clutter and take it away again.”

Alma was about to ask Tokusa what he was reading when the door opened again. Howard came in with a tray. There were two bowls of rice and vegetables on the tray, and steaming tea, and two tiny pieces of cake with strawberries on top. Alma swallowed.

“Oh!” Howard said when he saw Alma. He gave a polite nod of his head. “Hello.” He was wearing new clothes. They were deep red silk with yellow trim. They looked nice, though they were the exact same colors as the Crow guards’ robes, and the current fit left room for Howard to grow into.   

“Hi there.” Alma thought about running off, but now he had two people to talk too. There was nothing wrong with keeping company. There was a chair by the table, so he pulled it out and sat down.

Howard set the tray on the table and cupped his hands under the bowl to hand to Tokusa. The older boy took it with one hand and balanced it on his legs.

“Link is nursing me back to health,” he explained.

“I’m only bringing you food!” said Howard.  “Besides, I was assigned to.”

“That’s nice of you,” said Alma, not paying attention to the second part. “The lunches here are really good, aren’t they?” He’d never eaten anywhere else, though. These two must have eaten all sorts of food, if they’d come from far away.  

Howard gave a small nod.  “Master Zhu is quite a wonderful cook. He bakes, too, and he helped me with this recipe.”

He sounded in awe of Zhu. Alma grinned. “Old man Zhu’s the best chef ever, I bet. But I don’t think he’s made that for us before.” The strawberry and frosting smelled sweet.

“Do you mind if we eat?” asked Tokusa, and Alma shook his head.

Howard looked at the two small cakes. He looked for a long moment. “Do you want to try one? There are more in the kitchen—I made them for everyone.”

He’d asked exactly what Alma wanted to hear. “Sure! Thanks.”

Howard didn’t respond to his smile, but nodded and handed Alma plate and fork. The sugar smell was overwhelming. Alma almost felt dizzy.

Howard took his bowl of rice and sat, back straight, on the end of the cot.

Alma sunk the tines of the fork through the tip of the strawberry and into the white cream frosting. Zhu had made them lots of treats, even though Dr. Edgar said too much sugar was bad for teeth, but Alma had never had this before. What was this one called? Strawberry something cake, probably. He lifted the bite of cake to his mouth.   

And she couldn’t see, but she could sense the people all around her, talking and laughing. She’d had a bright day, a fine dinner and bubbling champagne—

Paused with the fork in his mouth, Alma realized his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. He opened them and darted a look from Tokusa to Howard. Both were intent on their lunches, steadily taking in mouthfuls of rice. Normally Alma would enjoy eating lunch with other kids, but…what had just happened?

The fork rattled on the plate when Alma set it down.

Howard looked up. “Is—is something wrong?”

Tokusa spoke up. “Why yes, Link, your cake is terrible.”  

“You haven’t even tried it yet, Tokusa, and besides, Master Zhu helped me. He even taught the Secretary.”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” Alma said. Howard was looking at him, brows furrowed. “The cake is really good. I was just remembering something.” His excuse sounded like he was pretending, but he needed an excuse.  

Howard’s shoulders relaxed. He nodded.

This time Alma closed his eyes before he took another bite, so it would look like he did it on purpose.

The cake was smooth, the strawberry adding a hint of tartness to its sweetness. Alma was afraid it would happen again—

And sure enough he (she) heard voices, a man’s voice, a woman’s voice, voices murmuring all around. The taste of champagne.

Alma frowned. He hadn’t had alcohol, either, which was something to put on wounds if you weren’t a Second Exorcist, but he knew what champagne was and how it tasted. He could taste it right now. Maybe he needed some water. He smiled nervously, though Howard wasn’t watching him, then popped the strawberry in his mouth and ate the rest of the cake in a gulp. He stood up.

“Thanks—I had better go now, I think one of the scientists wanted to see me.”

Tokusa set his bare bowl back onto the tray. “If you must, Disciple. I do appreciate the visit, though.”

Alma smiled. He wished he could visit Yuu instead, and maybe find out how much he liked the Plan, but it wasn’t so bad to see a couple of the visitors for awhile. Even if Tokusa had been fighting with Yuu.

“Feel better soon!” Alma said from by the door, and then fled. He suspected the taste of strawberries, cake, and champagne would linger on his tongue for awhile.

Howard nodded to Alma again. The last thing Alma saw was the blond boy picking out the grains of rice at the bottom of the bowl, each and every one.


Tevak saw sunlight for the first time in weeks. This was because she wasn’t in the Sixth Lab, but in the North Wing. Xue had given them permission to walk through the grounds, with a few rules, such as not going near the caves. But she didn’t think she was near any caves. She was moving away from the corridors and rooms below ground, because ahead was sunlight slanting between pillars. A courtyard.

Link was walking with her. Tevak had heard Xue telling Bao that it might be best for them to stay away from the Sixth Lab when they could. It was the fault of the rude boy, the future Second Exorcist. But thanks to him, she and Link could see the sky.

When a breeze stirred the air, Tevak could feel the autumn chill, but even looking at the sunlight made her feel warm. She looked over and saw Link squinting against the light.

The courtyard was a small plot with stone paths and plots of tall grasses. Flowerless bushes lined two edges. There was a pear tree in a larger plot on the right side.  

Tevak entered the courtyard and looked up into the tree’s branches. It would be simple to climb. She caught ahold of a low branch and braced her feet against the trunk, then swung herself up. She was wearing loose, comfortable pants that made movement easy.  

“I don’t think you’re supposed to climb that,” Link said.

“It’s fine. It won’t hurt the tree,” Tevak said. She shimmied towards a pear that hung heavy near the end of a higher branch. When she’d been smaller and hadn’t known as much, she’d asked her big brother Madarao what it meant, becoming a crow, and he’d said “You’ll be able to fly.” It was her favorite story and her favorite joke.

Alma from the Sixth Lab told stories, but they took too long and used too many words. And he acted like he wanted her to be impressed. Tevak wished he would leave her alone.  

Not sure if she could reach the fruit, she sat up on the branch and swung her legs at Link, who watched her with a look that meant he still didn’t think she was supposed to climb that.

Nobody Tevak knew at Central devoured stories of knights and princesses, dragons and witches. (That had been Alma’s longest story.) At Central the trainees had a few good ghost stories that lingered in Tevak’s nightmares, and stories passed down about the most daring of old missions, exaggeration tangled with fact. Her brother read about wars and strategy. Link read cookbooks and codebooks and psalms, none of which interested her. The hymnals in the church were boring. She and her brother only went because, Crows being part of the Vatican, they had to attend mass on holidays.  

Once Tevak had found a book in the library containing sketches of birds. There were species she hadn’t seen or couldn’t remember, and diagrams showing how a bird was put together, the feathers and the hollow bones. She liked those books. The books about birds had facts—you couldn’t take a story out of it, unless the story was “You’ll be able to fly.”

“Hey! What are you doing up there!?”

A scientist was standing by one of the pillars. He had light hair tied back in a ponytail, and a clipboard that he was using to gesture towards Tevak.

Tevak thought about saying she was climbing a tree when Link called, “We’re sorry! She was about to get down.”

Tevak stayed where she was and regarded the man. He hurried out into the courtyard.  “Why are you wandering around in the first…oh.” He’d seen the marks on Link’s forehead. Unlike Alma, he seemed to recognize their meaning.

The scientist turned to Tevak, who was above head height. He was kind of a short man. “Excuse me, I told you to get down. Do you know who I am?”

Did this count as bothering the scientists? Tevak shook her head and looked at the ground. Link raised his arms to help her down, but she slid easily off the branch and landed in a crouch. She brushed off her knees and stood.

“That’s better. This place belongs to the Chang Clan, and you can’t simply play around in it.” He looked flustered although Tevak had only climbed a tree.

From the clan name and his features, Tevak realized who he was. The Branch Chief’s son. He was an important scientist too.  “I’m very sorry,” she said, giving an apologetic bow of her head.

“I accept your apology,” he said, still irritated. He stared at her forehead. “You shouldn’t be wandering about, though. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s, er, a lot of work.”

He turned on his heel and left, calling for someone named Wong. Tevak watched him leave. Was he really going to be Branch Chief after his mother?

Link looked after him, puzzled. Then he said, “We ought to go back to our quarters. I’d like to practice calligraphy more.”

The sunlight was warm on Tevak’s head and hands. “Let’s stay here while the sun’s out.” It would pass beyond the high courtyard roof soon. She found the spot where the sun’s angle would warm them longest and sat down on the stone path there.

Link joined her, crossing his legs. “All right.” A pause. “I told you not to climb the tree.”

“You always say those things.”   

Link sighed. He acted like another big brother sometimes, one that worried too much. “The weather does feel nice.”

“Yes.”

There was a patch of reedy grasses behind Tevak, so she lay back. They rustled against her shoulders.  She blocked out the sun with her hand and stared up into the blue. She knew what she wanted to be. Her brother, and Link, Tokusa, Kiredori and Goushi though they hadn’t gotten to come—they were all becoming the same thing together.  

[Image no longer available]

Yuu Kanda was a wandering spirit. He’d come from somewhere, but where? He went round and round the same halls, but where was he going? He was lost.

His life had been so short compared to those bastards with their months and years and quiet, taken-for-granted familiarity. He felt empty.

But there had to be a reason he was trapped here. There had to be. Something he’d done once, before he could remember—because there was a world behind him, the world in the back of his mind. If it came back, its floodwaters pouring out, would it make him whole? Or would it kill him?

This morning Tuyi and Edgar had come to talk to Yuu and unlock the holding cell. A week had passed inside. Yuu had the freedom of the Sixth Lab again, a slightly larger prison. So he wandered, strange thoughts going round and round in his head.

Tuyi had said the Crow kids were staying awhile more. She hadn’t sounded happy about it. Yuu thought about beating them up again. Maybe Madarao this time, if he could. It would cause a big fucking commotion all over again, butYuu didn’t care if the scientists were bothered or if he delayed the tests. Hell, pissing them off was a bonus.

A prickling feeling ghosted up his spine when Yuu thought of the visitors. Knowing they were in the lab, Yuu felt hunted. He didn’t know why.

But that much commotion could be annoying, too. And besides, the visitors would probably be on guard now.  

Could be Alma’s in the library, thought Yuu, and that was where he ended up.

Alma wasn’t in the library, unless he was hiding under the table. Tokusa and Madarao were.

Yuu froze in the doorway. The other boys hadn’t seen him yet. Tokusa was staring at a book he held in his good hand (the other in a sling, served him right), and Madarao was looking at Tokusa.

To storm in or to fuck off? Yuu had no time to decide, because they were talking, and their words pinned him there.

“I was merely surprised, that’s all,” Tokusa was saying. “This sort of thing is rare. Who on earth brought this here?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Madarao. His words were harsher than usual, and then Yuu realized why—he often looked pissed off, and now he sounded like he was. “At any rate, I can’t read it.”

Tokusa flipped through the book, giving it a little smile. “Oh, of course you can’t. What good would it do?”

“There wasn’t…anyone to teach us. Or time, before we went to…there.” Madarao couldn’t look away from the book. “Your mother taught you?” he demanded.

“Some. She believed strongly in knowing how to read.” Tokusa shrugged one shoulder and looked up at the shelf of books. He was in the corner that had always looked like it held most boring and scientific books, and the odds and ends.

Madarao swiped the book from Tokusa’s hands while the older boy was still looking with a wistful air. He pinned it open against the shelf and turned the pages. “What does it say here?”

No longer smiling, Tokusa bent closer. “I…I’m not sure. If you wait for a moment…”

Madarao closed the book and shoved it in between two unmarked others. “It doesn’t matter. That country’s gone.”  

“And we were never there? Ah, well…” He sounded regretful.

“Exactly. I said it doesn’t matter.”

Yuu tried to move, or thought he did. The fingers of one hand curled. He realized what was wrong—what was odd—Tokusa and Madarao weren’t speaking English or Chinese, the languages that surrounded him at the lab, but another language. One he’d never heard before, but knew. But that was impossible. Edgar had tried to explain once, saying that he and Alma had awoken able to speak because they’d heard people talking around them, even though they’d been asleep.

He’d never heard this before—oh, but he had—

“Madarao…” Tokusa said.

Madarao turned towards the door, and it was his turn to freeze when he saw Yuu in the center of the doorway.
 
Yuu took a step back. For the first time he saw alarm on Madarao’s face, alarm and indignation, but his heart was pounding too hard for him to speak. (And if he did, what would he say?)  

He tore himself away from the library and half-ran down the hallway. Something else had risen in the back of his mind, not sight but sound.


They were in the room where they lodged, a small one with two bunk beds on either side, and Link sat in a chair with his back straight and shoulders square while Madarao ran the brush through his hair. Tevak sat nearby where Tokusa did the same for her. Tokusa's right arm was still in a sling, but he could use his left arm just as well. Link noticed Tevak fidgeting, tapping her fingers on her knee. He faced straight ahead and closed his eyes.

Madarao set the hairbrush down with a clatter and tugged Link's hair back. He pulled hard, and it hurt, but he was making the braid tight enough that it wouldn't loosen.

"There," said Madarao.

Link opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder. "Thank you." Right now Madarao's hair was short, so it didn't need to be tied up or pinned back. Madarao just looked at him before grabbing the hairbrush again and displacing Tokusa, who side-stepped out of his way.

Tevak stopped fidgeting as he brushed her hair. More gently than he'd been brushing Link's hair, but still firmly enough to remove the tangles she tended to get.

Link rose and retrieved the paint from the corner of the top bureau drawer where Tokusa had put it. He opened the case and set it on top of the bureau, taking one of the small brushes.

"Hand that over, would you," said Tokusa.

Link slid it closer to him and waited his turn.

Madarao was tying Tevak's hair back into a wavy ponytail.

Link took a brush and dabbed it in the face paint. He dragged his chair next to hers and said, "Close your eyes."

Tevak closed her eyes and tilted her face up. The two dots on her forehead were bright red under the light. They showed what she was, or rather, promised what she would become. Alma and Kanda were stupid not to recognize who Tevak and the rest of them were. Link began painting the marks under her eyes, trying not to get the paint onto her eyelashes. It wasn't like painting calligraphy of the Chinese characters, because Link had done this before, and so had Tevak. The paint went on smoothly and didn't run.

He marked her left eye and then her right. She blinked them open. Dabs of crimson paint had stuck to her lashes, he noticed guiltily.

"Your turn." She took the brush and applied more paint to it.

"Oh, Madarao, hold still."

"I am holding still. Your hand is shaking."

"Nonsense."

With an expression of concentration, Tevak sat down in front of Link, and he closed his eyes obediently. The paint was cool and almost cold on his skin. The sensation vanished in moments.  

Tevak stopped and said, "Could you open your eyes?" and then frowned. "I think I got some on your eyelashes." She touched the corner of her right eye to demonstrate.

"I got some on your eyelashes too," confessed Link.

They took a moment to wipe the globs from their own eyelashes. They looked at each other again—the pattern was even on both sides of Tevak's face. Their eyes looked just like those of any official Crow. Link's heart began to beat faster in anticipation. He did not want the fear that might come with it—he wasn't afraid, not right now, but he disliked the possibility that he might become afraid.  

Then there was Moretti, who had not even been on a mission.

Link nodded to Tevak.

"Yours is fine too," she said.

"I wish I were going with you," said Tokusa, wiping a stray smear from Madarao's face—Madarao, eyes closed, looked irritated—and redoing the paint. It must have been humiliating for Tokusa to stay behind, when he was the oldest.

"Then you shouldn't have picked a fight and gotten injured," said Madarao.

Tevak and Link (silently agreeing) stood near him waiting.

"The sorcerers here are skilled—if I only had a few more days—"

"The Exorcists are going on mission now, Tokusa. They're hardly going to wait for you." Madarao pulled away once Tokusa was done applying the paint.

Tokusa gave a sigh. "I know that."

"There is sure to be another opportunity," said Tevak, logical rather than reassuring.

"True..." His voice still carried bitter regret, though. Then he looked the three of them over as if noticing them there for the first time. "I shall see you again in a few days, then."

Madarao and Tevak simply nodded to him.

"Goodbye," said Link.

Tokusa collected the brush from Tevak with his good hand and returned it to the box. "I'll be waiting."

They had received the chance to accompany four of the adult Crows as they supported Exorcists operating in the area. It was a new step in their training, one they were fortunate to have by virtue of their skills as well as their presence at the Asian Branch. Leaving the Sixth Lab for a time would be welcome as well.

Link would not exchange places with Tokusa for anything.

[Restore image here]

Four days without them, and Zhu had said that the Crow trainees had come back. Lines of worry had twisted his wrinkled face as he’d said it, and the others hadn’t shown themselves yet, except for Tokusa, who Yuu had glimpsed once at the cafeteria window. He suspected the others had been injured. Renee had said that they’d been assisting Exorcists. He couldn’t imagine them helping, only getting in the way like they did at the Asian Branch.   

If they were going to interfere and spy on him and Alma without the decency to hide it, why not do the same? The thought crossed his mind that he might hear that language again, and it frightened him, but Madarao hadn’t seemed to like it either. Anyway, Yuu thought, he wouldn’t let that stop him.

Yuu marched into the narrow passageway, lit with low electric lights, that led to where the visitors had their makeshift quarters. Two Crow guards passed him. He ignored them, though he felt their gazes. Go much farther north and the only doors would be sealed and guarded. He was pretty sure they were staying in the laboratory compound, but which door—?

 There. Another robed figure faced one of the rooms. Yuu slowed.

One good thing—or a less bad thing, anyway—about the Crow guards was the limited role they played. They participated in some of the experiments with their spells, they made sure Yuu and Alma did what the scientists said. And when Yuu had kept on attacking those around him for week after week, the scientists had started calling one or two at a time in restrain him. When he met them in the halls or saw them standing by the great double doors near the main lab, though, they did nothing at all. They didn’t speak to him, either. It would be pretty damn nice if the little ones did the same.   

Maybe some of them were dead now, though. Alma would be sad, especially if it was Tevak, the girl who he still liked, but Yuu figured he would get over it. Yuu would still be around. Alma didn’t realize yet that he would be better off if the Crow trainees left.  

Yuu thought of the grand hall, and there came to him the vague and troubling image of scientists sneaking in and sticking dead Crow trainees into the pools. He shook it off, though his uneasiness didn’t disappear.

Voices, children’s voices.

Yuu leaned with his back against the wall by the door, daring the Crow guard to react or speak to him now. It didn’t move. Not even a shift of hands. He stared into the flawless red of its robe as he listened. The words were just audible.

“…supposed to eat the soup.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

Madarao was talking to Link. So they were still alive.

“You have to eat.”

“I’ll eat some later, when—ow!” Link sounded more offended than hurt by whatever had happened. They were talking like Link had been injured, but not seriously so. Yuu wasn’t sure how to feel.

“I told you to eat it. At least try.”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up if I do.”

There was a clatter like a tray or soup bowl being set down.

“How is Tevak feeling?” asked Link.

“She’ll wake up.”

“She hasn’t yet?” The plaintive worry in Link’s voice came through clear.

A pause. “I didn’t say that. She did once, and she’ll be fine.”

 “Yes, yes, I’m sure she will. You did say she was only—that it was nothing serious.”

Then they didn’t do anything for awhile. Yuu got bored and rubbed one foot against the other, watching the Crow guard who faced him and the door. That was also boring, because it wasn’t doing anything. Those robes might as well be empty.

Madarao: “Where’s the ink?” A drawer opened and slammed shut.

“If I’d died, would you say I was too slow?”

“If you were too slow, then yes, I would. But you aren’t dead, are you?”

 “That’s right, I wouldn’t lose to such an opponent,” said Link with that pride in his voice, “nor would Tevak. But I will train harder. Once I’ve recovered, let’s all train together. Tevak and I against you.”

“No, you fight against Tevak and I.”  

“I’ll lose every time.”

“You’ll learn, though.”

“Hmmm. Perhaps, after that, Tokusa and I against the two of you....”

There was definitely a strain in Link’s voice. At least when Yuu was hurt, it wasn’t for long, never for days, though he was usually hurt worse than whatever Link could stand while still being awake and talking. But the worst pain wasn’t something you got used to, even if you could regenerate.

They stopped talking again, and weren’t doing anything that could be heard through the door.

They’d been talking about the things they usually did, so Yuu hadn’t learned much besides who’d been injured. If they had been saying anything important, the Crow probably would have made him leave.

Yuu felt daring. “Hey,” he said to the Crow guard. “How many kids are there like them? Do a lot of them die, fighting the Akuma?” There was a flash of a monstrous humanoid face in his vision, the monster in his memory. He felt his heart beating, pumping the blood all through him, to his fingers and feet.

The mask tilted fractionally towards Yuu. “You are not authorized to know.” She, then, not it. He was surprised she’d spoken, and again when she added, “At any rate, it is not a pleasant subject. Best not to speak of it.”

The door opened, and Madarao looked out at Yuu with narrowed eyes. Past him, Yuu could see a bunk bed, and in the lower bed wavy blond hair splayed over the sheets—Tevak, sleeping. The room was a makeshift infirmary. Next to Tevak’s bed, a desk and displaced chair. Link’s bed must be on the other side, out of his view.

“What are you doing here?” Madarao asked. He didn’t have any injuries that Yuu could see right away, but then, he was wearing the long-sleeved red shirt and pants. Ah, there was a bandage wrapped around his braced left wrist and hand. But it wasn’t even bloody.

“Nothing.” If Madarao wanted to start something, Yuu was ready for him. Eager, even.

“Go away,” Madarao said, curling his lip. He bowed his head to the adult Crow and shut the door.

Yuu dragged his feet.

“Who was that?”

“Yuu was outside, by the door.”

“Oh.”

If Yuu were to express how much he hated Link and Madarao at that moment, it would have been hard, because he could only have done it by punching one or both of them repeatedly in the face.

“…I’m going to check on Tevak.”

“You stay there.”

That was the last he heard, because the gaping yellow diamond of the Crow guard’s mask was centered straight on him, and he wanted to leave of his own will, before she made him. Emerging into the relative brightness of the larger halls was a relief. He searched for Alma, not knowing if the other boy’s presence would calm him or make his sick anger worse.  


“Are they going to be okay?” asked Alma, who Yuu had found in the cafeteria with a plateful of pork dumplings. In the early afternoon, the small cafeteria bustled with enough staff members that they could talk without being overheard.  

“Yes, they’re going to fucking be okay,” said Yuu. Couldn’t Alma see the point?

“Maybe we should go pay them a visit.”

“Like they want visitors,” said Yuu. “They’re, uh, too busy healing or something.” It’s too dangerous, idiot.

“Well…all right.” Alma bit his lip.

The joking laughter around them, the clatter of plates, was suddenly a too-loud storm of noise. Yuu’s clutched his hands to his head, fingers digging claw-like into his scalp.

Another clatter, of Alma’s chopsticks onto the table. “Yuu? Are you all right?”

“I have to get out of this place,” said Yuu just loud enough for him to hear. The bangs hanging in front of his face were like a barrier.

“Well, it is busier in here than you like, Yuu!” Alma said with false cheer. Then he slipped on arm under Yuu’s and dragged him into the hall, abandoning his lunch. Yuu let his head hang down, and only saw glimpses of white tile when he opened his eyes for a moment.

Alma whispered in Yuu’s ear, “Then we’ll get you out of here, Yuu.”

A small hope blossomed, a white flower in a dark, still pond. At least Alma understood him.


Alma wanted to take Yuu far away the moment his friend said he wanted out. His mind jumped from place to place trying to find a crevice where they could hide or sneak out, but nothing was right. Guards stood at every door. Foes at every turn.

As he was steering Yuu towards the library so he could dig out the scraps of paper that were his Plan, Renee appeared before them.

"Yuu, it's time to catch up on your tests."

Yuu tensed.

"Don't," Alma whispered. Even Yuu ought to know better than to attack a scientist and get locked up again.

Yuu gave Alma a baleful look and let Renee drag him off by the arm. Alma stared after them and listened to Renee berating Yuu: "Honestly, there's no need to sulk, you were the one who..."

Alma bounced from foot to foot. He had to save Yuu.

But it was nothing but tests, tests, tests for the next four days. Left alone while the scientists had Yuu in their grasp, Alma explored the too-familiar halls and tried to find an exit point that wasn't watched. The Crow guards seemed to have multiplied again.

The Crow trainees he didn’t see much of. Once or twice Tokusa greeted Alma in the halls. His arm was much better, thank you, and how was Kanda Yuu? What a shame. Link and Tevak were fine, yes, but they needed their rest. Madarao never did more than nod at Alma. Alma started to suspect they were keeping themselves scarce on purpose.

On the fourth day, the lack of an escape route—and Yuu—began to weigh on Alma. He wandered down to the hall of pools and collapsed on his back, staring at the ceiling. The room was quiet except for the distant hum of machinery. He wished the other children would appear, but maybe that was over.

Who else was there? Yuu's lady ghost? Or Fou? Fou, that nice girl who'd come to cheer him when he cried from loneliness. He didn't feel like crying now, though the frustration and anger were so strong he felt like he’d burst.

"Fou?" he said, and listened to it echo through the room. "Fou!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Alma let his eyes close. He might have fallen asleep.

He hadn't heard any footsteps, but someone came between him and the light. He woke with a start and saw a girl's face peering down at him.
 
"Fou!" Alma shot to his feet. Once he'd wondered if she'd been real, until he'd heard a couple of the kitchen staff mention her name and connected the name with the mysterious girl.

He was so relieved to see a friend that he tried to throw his arms around her. She stuck a hand—well, a sleeve—in his face. He backed off, feeling sheepish.

Fou put her hands on her hips, her huge sleeves dangling past her knees. "I was in the area, and I heard someone yelling my name," she said. "Something wrong, kid?"

It was weird how she called him a kid when she didn't look much older. That didn’t matter, though: Alma’s guide was here to show him the way. "Yuu needs to get out of here," he explained.

Her face changed all at once. Her eyes widened. An instant later shock was replaced by a calculating look as she raised a sleeve to her lips. "Hey, I work here. I can't show just anyone to the exit."

So she was one of...one of them. But she didn't sound angry that he'd asked, so he kept going.

"Yuu's going to die if he stays here, Fou," Alma said. He tried to put all of his helplessness into his words. Tears were starting to sting his eyes again, and that helped. "That, or...or he'll start fighting everyone again."

"Hmm,” said Fou. “No, no, it's no good."

"Or if we could just leave for awhile! We'll come back." Now Alma was lying. Yeah, lying was wrong, but when he pictured the sky stretching over his head he knew he could never give it up.

"Sorry," said Fou, a sly undertone in her voice.

"I thought you were nice!" yelled Alma. "But you're just like—"

"Look, kid, calm down. I'm going to tell you where not to go."

Alma sniffled and stopped mid-tantrum. "Wh-what?"

"There's a wall that's not very strong. In fact, it's been weakening real bad these days."

Alma listened closely.

"You should stay away from it in case it collapses. Someone could get hurt. And if it does, there's a narrow passage leading to caves where little boys could get lost..."


Tuyi had an unexpected visitor in her office. This one had come through the wall.

“He doesn’t want them wandering around the North Wing again,” Fou was saying. “He says they creep him out.”

Tuyi sighed and gave up concentrating on the chart she’d been staring at. It was unusual for Fou to appear to her in the lab, though the Guardian saw the whole Asian Branch and the land that surrounded it as her domain and patrolled it at times. Had she come to chat? To report in? To update Tuyi on her son’s life? She rubbed her temples. “I hardly think it’s worth worrying about. They’re not going to hurt him.”

“It’s Bak—that’s not the problem. The problem is, do we want him jumping like a frog every time a couple kids in red walk by? It’s gotta be bad for mo—”

“Branch Chief!” Renee’s voice, and a pounding on the door.

“Yes? Come—”

The door flew open. Renee’s reddened eyes had dark circles underneath; the research staff’s schedules had been grueling. “They’re gone, Branch Chief. The children—”

There came an image of the little Crow trainees, but of course Renee would not be so distraught over that—Tuyi rose from her desk, not caring that her elbow sent papers scattering. She prayed that Renee was overreacting and Alma and Kanda had only concealed themselves in a corner of the lab.

“—the research subjects, I mean—”

Tuyi glanced at the corner where Fou had stood, but she’d vanished.

“—they’ve escaped!” Distraught, Renee started to cry silently.

“Are you certain they’re not in the lab?”

“Y-yes. There’s a hole in one of the walls..and there was blood…it—the hole connects to an unused passage. It’s the farthest hallway to the east.”

“All right—who else knows?”

“Section Chief Choi was with me, and he went to search the lab. I don’t know if he announced it. I came straight here. I h-have to tell my father—”

“Pull yourself together, Renee,” Tuyi said as the young scientist turned to leave. Though Tuyi’s heart was pounding, her mind felt clear. Someone had to stay calm. “They can’t have gone far, so it’s too soon to worry. We’ll send the guards after them.”

Renee dabbed the inside corners of her eyes with her labocat cuff, then hastily rubbed at her nose with the sleeve. She squared her shoulders. “Should I fetch one of the Crows?”

“I’ll call them. You make certain the team on duty has been alerted and help search the lab. The moment you’ve confirmed they’re gone—or found them, if they’re here—contact me.”

“All right.” Her eyes still red, but confidence regained, Renee ran off.

No, they couldn’t have gone far. So she reassured herself. In moments they’d have Crow assassins hunting them, besides, and if they managed to elude such trained pursuit for more than a few days, the whole of the Black Order and their network of supporters would be out to get them.

Tuyi realized that, were she in another position, she would be cheering on their escape.

She gritted her teeth and called Xue.

The Crow commander appeared in her office a minute later. Behind her she closed the door that Renee had left open. “An urgent matter? What might it be?”

Tuyi stood straight and faced her. “The worst. They’ve run off.” Refusing to allow concern into her voice, she tersely passed on Renee’s news.  

The only visible reaction Xue showed was a tilt of her head. “Understood, Branch Chief. It seems security was lax. Nevertheless, we shall retrieve them.” She reached up and switched on the comm device at her ear. “Madarao,” she said. “I have a mission for you.”

Tuyi almost dropped the phone receiver. “What?”

Xue paused.

“You’re giving this assignment to trainees?”

“This is the perfect opportunity,” she said. “You have no need to worry. We will send full members to all possible exit points.”

“I am not going to allow this,” said Tuyi. She could not stand by and let this Crow woman’s stupidity risk the two most successful research subjects in decades. After all she’d seen of the level-headed Xue—admittedly, not much beyond the professional—she would never have expected this.

“Is that an order, Branch Chief?”

Tuyi stared at her, wondering if this was another of her roundabout suggestions. Presumably Madarao was listening to them as he waited for Xue’s command. They were delaying the search. “This time Yuu could kill one of your trainees, you know. Are you willing to accept that?” And suddenly the question seemed absurd. She thought of the compromises she and Edgar had made, the paths they’d been willing to accept.

“It isn’t an order? While you do run this facility, in the past you have left the defense to my discretion,” said Xue. Yes, she may as well have been shouting demands. This argument was going nowhere, and two lost boys were getting farther away.

“You will use the adults as backup?” she asked, trying to keep from shouting herself. You madwoman, she thought.

“Of course.”

“Just get them back,” Tuyi said. It would be on all their heads if Xue failed. If Tuyi failed.

“Madarao. Yuu and Alma have escaped the Sixth Lab. They appear to have left through a breach in the wall on the east side of the facility’s main level. The passage there connects to an underground complex inside the caves. It’s unused and should be empty. Take your team and bring them back alive. If anything goes wrong, another squad will be standing by to take over.” There was a sound of assent from Madarao, and Xue switched the device off.

Tuyi called Edgar’s golem, and he responded immediately with a worried “Yes?”

“Meet me in the main lab,” she said, and hung up. She hurried out of her office and Xue swept after her.

“Do you think we can get them back?” Tuyi asked.

“If God wills it,” said Xue.


“Come on,” said Madarao.

Link checked for the third time that his binding talismans were in his sleeves and thanked God that he was well enough to join in the mission. His shoulder hurt and he could not use one arm so well, but he could still fight, and his companions would be with him. Madarao and Tevak waited by the bedroom door. Tevak was still unsteady on her feet at times, but Link knew that she could fight, too. She looked determined. Every time he thought of her lying in that bed, when he’d been afraid she was in a coma before Madarao told him otherwise, he was grateful that she’d survived. Not like Moretti, dead. And Link felt guilty that he hadn’t thought of her for two days, though every Crow should be ready for sacrifice, and she’d probably been  too slow, anyway.

Link nodded to show that he was ready and resisted the impulse to check the talismans again. He and Tokusa followed the other two. They moved at a half trot. This time, at least, their opponents were children, not Akuma. Exorcists, yes, but they couldn’t use their Innocence. Exorcists who’d run away. What terrible Exorcists they must be to abandon everyone like this. Was this why Yuu’s Innocence had tormented him? Link had heard terrifying rumors about how God punished traitorous Exorcists. He hoped those two were only hiding for awhile instead of abandoning the Order completely.

“We’ll stay together to search. If we need to, we’ll split into pairs,” said Madarao. This was just as they’d been taught. “Tokusa with Link.”

“Understood,” Link said along with Tokusa. Madarao always kept himself and Tevak together if he could help it.

Ahead, several full Crows and two scientists stood by a crumbled section of wall. Fallen bits of masonry littered the floor. Upon getting closer, Link felt a draft of chill air flowing past and saw that part of the wall had been pushed inward. Blood stained the chunks of masonry next to the hole.

It would be simple to weaken the wall and make it collapse entirely, but that could block the passage on the other side. However, the gap looked large enough for them to fit through. One of the scientists’ golems had its light fixed there, and Link saw a water-stained white floor on the other side.

The adults ceased their low, urgent conversation and looked at Link and the others. Link waited for Madarao to take the lead.

“Those,” said Madarao, pointing at the scientists’ golems. “We need them.”

One scientist looked at the other, and then at Bao. Madarao faced the first man with an expectant stare, as did Tevak at his side.

“A-all right,” the first scientist said. The presence of Madarao and the rest seemed to confuse him.

The golems darted through the hole. The four of them had comm devices clipped to their ears, but nothing for light. Madarao crouched on his knees and listened, then crawled through into the space that now held the glow of the golems’ small searchlights. Tevak, agile, slipped after. Link waited for Tokusa, in case he had difficulties from his arm, but, which was free of a cast thanks to healing speeded by Master Zhu’s sorcery, but still delicate. Favoring his right arm, he went through. Then it was Link’s turn to squeeze his shoulders in and clamber through as the full Crows watched.

The stone passage inside stank of mold. Link stood to one side by a water-stained wall of stone that used to be white. The golems directed their beams at the floor, where footsteps had scuffed the grime. They had learned how to find such signs.

Ahead was a dark space. A draft blew against their faces.

Madarao and Tevak leading, the four of them followed the tracks.


Alma followed the figure in front of him. There wasn't much else to see.

He'd brought Yuu to the wall that Fou had told him about. Cracks had run through the wall, and he had felt the outside air flowing through gaps in the stone, but there had been nowhere to go through.

So he'd used what he had, his body, to break through. He'd battered the wall open and also his skull, but that had healed. While it was healing, he'd taken Yuu's hand and felt along a wall slimy with mold until he'd tripped over a sudden, short drop—they were in the caves. He'd stood there breathing the air, afraid to say anything in case it echoed back to the lab. Yuu hadn't said anything either. They were out, like Yuu wanted. Like the Plan said. Now to get out of the caves.

This cave probably didn't have dragons. It had man-made corridors, sometimes, and strings of lights with every tenth light still on and buzzing. Alma went from pool of light to pool of light. But other places were dark entirely, so he'd held tight to Yuu's hand and trusted.

Yuu stayed quiet. Alma looked at his face under the electric lights, and he looked pale and desperate.

When Fou appeared in front of him like a ghost, he choked back his yell of surprise. She had a small round paper lantern in her hand, and was staring at him with narrowed eyes.  

"Fou?" Alma wondered how she'd gotten ahead of them. Or had they gone in circles?

"There you are," she said. "You're going the wrong way." She'd turned heel into a corridor that must have been the right direction.

Alma hurried after her light, pulling Yuu along. They followed and followed.

"Told you she exists," Alma whispered to Yuu.

Yuu glared back.

They passed a through an open stone space, heard the drip of water. Down a slope in a corner they went, and into a half-ruined passage where the lantern caught greenish paint flaking off decorative pillars. Alma hadn't been walking long at all, and already he'd seen so many more places than ever before. Just wait until they were someplace bright!

The passage became more modern, lined with darkened lights.

The lights switched on.

Alma reeled, blinded, and heard Fou say, "They switched on the emergency lights!?" and curse in a way that would have brought on a lecture from Edgar.

Alma squinted, saw Yuu covering his eyes with his arm. They would have to move fast now.

"Which way now? Which...?"

But when he looked ahead, Fou was gone.



Link and the others moved fast, surely faster than the Seconds. Tracking them was easy in a place where dust and grit covered the floor and few had passed. Link had no time to examine the caves and hallways in detail, except to memorize where they had turned—he was focused in on the tracks. This was his mission, which meant it was all that mattered. His wrenched left shoulder, the cuts and bruises he'd gotten on the last mission, disappeared into the back of his mind.  

A distant trembling came through Link's feet. The lights in a hallway ahead came on, making the beams from the golems pale. Link shaded his eyes. Madarao faltered for a moment, then sped up. Xue or the scientists must be helping their search.

Link didn't want to disappoint Xue or the scientists or his teammates. He looked at Madarao, Tevak, and Tokusa. Especially not his teammates. This was their mission, not training, not one where they followed full Crows to observe. Madarao would be angry if they failed. They only needed to bring back two runaways, two fugitives, who were, after all, only children. If they failed, they would have to write about it in their reports, and the Secretary would read about it.

Link didn't want to disappoint him either.

With his senses heightened, he didn't know how much time passed before they made a turn and heard a shout ahead, and footsteps, and then they were sprinting after Alma and Kanda down a long corridor that branched ahead.

Kanda stopped and whirled to face them, the anger he'd shown from the start clear in his expression. Tevak and Madarao had talismans out.

"Yuu! Run!" Alma turned back to retrieve the other fugitive, and Kanda, lost, let himself be dragged. "Hurry!" Alma shoved Kanda ahead. He disappeared into the right-hand corridor.

They were in range. Link fingered the talisman in his sleeve, but the corridor was narrow and he waited for Madarao and Tevak, ahead. Tokusa was holding several talismans.

"Binding Wings." Madarao spoke, and Tevak under her breath. Both looked fierce. Often, Link could tell that they were related.

Alma looked right, and back, and darted down the left corridor before the talismans could catch him.

Madarao and Tevak ran after Kanda. This was a moment of decision; it was important to think quickly on one's feet in battle or invite terrible consequences, so Link decided. He turned left. Tokusa went left, too.

Unlit rooms gaped on both sides, but Alma was ahead of them, running as fast as he could. Link would call for him to stop (sometimes the target can be reasoned with) but Alma didn't look like he was going to stop. He saved his breath.

"Binding Wings!" said Tokusa, and the talisman flew ahead.

Alma yelped and ducked. The talisman fluttered down. Alma scrambled to his feet a moment later, having lost a little ground, and kept running. In front of them was a large square room with broken lights and a tall ceiling that vanished into blackness. One golem had flown after them, and its beam flickered over Alma's white shirt. He ran for the open doorway opposite.

Link sent another binding talisman after Alma, who must have been either desperate or a fast learner, because he dodged as he ran. The talisman caught his foot, but he wrenched it free, leaving the shoe.

But Link had gained ground. He would pin Alma down and then they could immobilize him.

He glanced at Tokusa and from the illumination of the light behind them saw his grin, his confidence, and why not, when he had another talisman in hand.

Alma was moments from the next corridor. Link forced a burst of speed from his legs and tackled him from behind. He caught Alma around the waist, and the Second tripped and went down.  

And as he was falling, Link realized that Tokusa's talisman had not read to bind, but flame. And Tokusa had already begun speaking the incantation.

Link had no time to do anything more than hold his breath and shield his face by burying in the cloth of Alma's shirt. Scorching heat rolled over him, his right arm and the top of his head taking the brunt of it, and he loosened his grip on Alma to pull his arm closer in. Alma, nearer to the flames, made a strangled sound. What the hell was Tokusa doing...?

Blocking the exit, Link realized when the heat receded enough for him to lift his head. Heat still rippled in the doorway, and licks of flame appeared in midair, an eerie light.

Part of Alma's hair was burnt off and his skin was mottled red—or was that the light?—but he scrambled ahead in spite of Link, then stopped as he noticed the barrier. Link reached for a talisman with his fingers. Alma twisted in his loosened hold and elbowed him in the face.

Link knew Alma was strong, but strength was hard to judge until you'd been elbowed in the face. His vision went black for a moment. He raised his left arm to shield from another blow. He sensed Alma's next hit and deflected it.

"Link, hold him there," said Tokusa, so Link, vision returning in a storm of spots, caught and twisted both of Alma's arms, then held on grimly while Alma tried to slam himself into Link.   

With Alma caught it only took Tokusa a moment to bind him. Tokusa stepped back, looking proud.

Link held on to Alma, whose knees buckled as the talismans paralyzed him. He was kind of heavy. Carefully Link let him sink to a kneeling position on the ground. They would have to be cautious when bringing him back to the Sixth Lab—he may have miraculous healing abilities, but he was an Exorcist, after all.

Tokusa was contacting Madarao through his comm device. "We got this one, Madarao. Do you need reinforcements?"

There was buzzing in Link's head, and he could not make out the reply. Tokusa only said, "Very well."

It felt like Link's nose was broken. He could smell burnt hair. Holding an Exorcist like this, he began to feel awkward. Should he apologize?

Tokusa's fire disappeared into itself, and Link started to feel how cold the cave was.

Alma hung his head. Not the fault of the talismans, Link thought. Alma said in a low voice, "Why did you have to do that? You ruined everything."

Link went through each of the very good reasons in his mind. Alma probably didn't want to hear the list. "It was our mission," he said. On the outside, he was confident.

"We had better take him back now," said Tokusa.


Yuu ran, but not far. He didn’t want to run.

So in this latest ancient-as-hell corridor he turned and faced Madarao and Tevak, brother-and-sister, his fists clenched and the rage of his few months of life burning him up inside. Yuu wanted to fight.

He could already see it was useless. They had those talismans in their hands.

He glared at the cold-eyed boy, at the silent girl, and hated them.  It was the best he could do. The world was too big to fight, the Black Order too much, and even two other kids in red—

As their sorcery pulled his body to the ground, he thought:

But maybe I shouldn’t have tried to escape. Maybe she is still there….


Alma awoke by degrees in the empty room where he and Yuu slept on hard beds. This time, straps over his limbs and chest held him down. He stared up at the dark ceiling. He began to hear breathing—Yuu's breathing.

One of the wrist straps was loose. Without moving the rest of his body, he started to work his hand free. It rubbed his skin raw, but that was okay because it made the strap slippery, and after another minute this he pulled his hand free. He lay with his palm up and felt the stinging as it healed. Alma could do a lot of things if he paid the cost.

Once the skin of his hand was whole again, he started tugging at the strap over his chest. He tugged at it for so long he forgot why he was doing it. Were his bones stronger than the strap?

There were voices outside. A nice voice, and...other voices. Doctor Edgar appeared next to Alma's bed. Two Crow guards were behind him.

"Alma," said Edgar. He had a gentle voice. "Stop that. You're hurting yourself."

"You should not stand so close," said one of the Crows, a man. Edgar didn't move, though.

Alma tried to remember the reason he should stop hurting himself. It was like trying to add with two figures he'd forgotten. Edgar had hurt him lots of times in the experiments.

"You'll only get yourself killed if you run off again," Edgar said. "Please, promise me you won't." He touched Alma's forearm and carefully pulled his hand away from the strap across his chest. So he'd still been picking at that after all.

Now Alma felt bad that he'd run off. A little. Edgar and Renee and most of the scientists were nice to them, were always telling Alma how important he was, so.... "Sorry. Sorry I ran off." Alma laughed, although his mouth was dry. "I only wanted to go exploring. I promise I won't do it again. Okay?" He meant what he said, and smiled to show it, but he saw Yuu's face when he'd said he had to get out and swore to him, in the thoughts underneath his words, that he'd do it again if that would save Yuu.

Edgar smiled in relief. His eyes stayed sad. "Good. You need to stay here and—and rest, though, so try to go to sleep."

Alma could still hear Yuu breathing. A peaceful sound.  

"Okay," said Alma. "Could you let me out of these?"

"I'm sorry, Alma."

"Okay." He started working to break the strap with his hand again.

But then Edgar was tearing at the straps too, and unhooking things under the bed where Alma couldn't reach.

"Assistant Chief, please stop!" said one of the Crows. They started to drag him away just as the strap across Alma's chest came loose. Edgar fought back. He wasn't near as strong as the guards, though.

"Let go of me! That's an order," he said, and like a magic spell it made the red robes let go.

Head whirling, Alma propped himself up on his elbow and before he knew it Edgar had freed him from the restraints.

"This is dangerous! We have orders from the Branch Chief to restrain—"

Edgar turned on them. "At least let him move around in here, for God's sake! Get out. You can watch from outside well enough to prevent any more escapes. Not that he's going anywhere."

"It is dangerous for you as well," said the other Crow.

Then Edgar was speechless, and let them usher him towards the door and out. It shut. They could watch him and Yuu from outside, but at least Alma could get to....

Yuu. Alma hopped down from the bed. It was dark and standing made him dizzy, but faint light leaked in from outside, and after a moment he could see dimly.

Yuu's hair fell around his head like it had in the pool. He was strapped down just as Alma had been. He looked angry even though he was asleep.

"Hey, Yuu..." said Alma in a low voice. Then he had second thoughts. He swallowed his words instead of telling Yuu to wake up.

Alma stumbled across the gap between beds and hugged Yuu, his arms over his friend's shoulders, head resting on his chest. He tried really hard not to cry, but it was too hard, just too hard.


Yuu was dreaming. He dreamed he was standing on a lotus pond (always the damn pond), and she was there. At the same time he felt as if he was very small and very far off, seeing himself and the woman standing on a white lotus petal. Except he wasn't himself, and she was someone else.

The water shifted in gentle waves, rocking the flowers in calming patterns. His mind drifted with them.

Voices intruded from outside the dream's shell. Yuu neither remembered whose they were nor cared. They pulled him out, though, extracting him from his dream.

A weight rested on his chest. Still half-asleep, he realized that this weight was part of the waking world. There was a heat in the skin of his chest, too: the tattoo that tied him to life.

Yuu knew he should be angry. There were too many people who deserved his anger. Goddamn Crows, goddamn bastard Crow kids, goddamn fucking scientists.

But he was too tired to be angry. Those people weren't here. The only one here, as far as he could see, was Alma.

Alma was shaking with quiet sobs.

Yuu tried to raise his arms, but couldn't. Straps held his wrists. Awkwardly he moved his head to rest it against Alma's, messy hair brushing his cheek.  

"Untie my hands, you idiot," he said eventually.

Alma didn't say anything. Turning his face to the side, he looked at the straps, looked under the bed, and did something to loosen the ones around his wrists.

When Alma reappeared, his shoulders were still shaking. Yuu grabbed him and pulled him down again, and this time held him tight.


Tuyi could still feel an air of tension in the Sixth Lab, but the wall had been repaired with haste and the passage blocked off, the boys kept drugged, restrained, and under twenty-four surveillance. They weren’t going anywhere. The Crow trainees had brought them back and laid them at her feet like offerings, bound in the talismans that her family had invented, once. Since then, she had felt a sense of relief.

Another worry had sprung up in its place. Today, when Tuyi had been working in the lab, Alma had murmured the name “Fou.” That, and something about being abandoned.  

Nobody had heard except her.

She walked to her office with a growing sense of urgency. Once there she picked up the phone and contacted her son.

“Mother! Are you well?” Bak said. “You won’t believe the day I’ve been having. Wong had the nerve to catch a cold, and a number of my subordinates are bickering thanks to some rivalry, and—”

“You’ll have to tell me about it later,” Tuyi said, though she couldn’t help smiling in affection. “Can you send Fou to my office in the Sixth Lab? I need to speak with her.”

“You do? Very well. She’s bound to be around here somewhere…Fou!”

Not long after, a glow appeared on the right wall and the Guardian stepped out. “Yes, Tuyi?”

At times like these that Tuyi was glad she had electronic measures in place against eavesdropping. Still, she spoke quietly. “Fou. Were you at all involved in Alma and Yuu’s escape?”

 The long pause answered her question. Fou glanced to the side, then looked her in the eye again, defiant.

“Because Alma let something slip, and if it gets out that the Chang Clan Guardian tried to sabotage the Second Exorcist Project—”

“You know the reason I did that?” said Fou. “Because of my duty.” She thrust a sleeve in Tuyi’s direction. “Protecting you.”

“Ruining the entire project will not protect me, Fou.” Tuyi knew she was talking down to her. It was all too easy to do, considering her appearance. “Nor will it make me less of a target for our enemies. Now, I expect you won’t be doing this again, but in case you do, I’m making this an order: Don’t try to stop the project.”

“You humans…” Fou took on a dark look. “Got it. If it’s an order.”

Tuyi couldn’t let her façade crack. “Good. And don’t speak to anyone else about this, of course. Not even Edgar. Though if Alma brings you up again…”

“Did he know where the hell he was going? Tell them I was leading them back. I’m not an idiot, you know.”

Fou’s mood was not going to improve soon, and her tendency to take things out on Bak meant that Tuyi had just made her son’s hectic day worse. “All right. You’re dismissed.”

Fou sank back into the wall with a crackle of electricity that made the lights flicker. Tuyi could feel a headache beginning to pound in her temples.

[Image no longer available]

Later that day, Xue paid her a visit.  

“The trainees will be departing for the Vatican tomorrow. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter, Branch Chief.”

“Of course,” said Tuyi without looking up from her desk. It hadn’t been her choice. “I’m afraid it didn’t go as well as you would have liked.”   

“What are you talking about, Branch Chief? It went very well.”

Tuyi glanced over her shoulder, then, and saw that Xue was not wearing her mask. She had ordinary features and short, sleek hair that was clipped back. “It didn’t look to me as if they got to know the Second Exorcists that well.”

Xue shook her head. “They learned about the Exorcists well enough.”

With nothing to say to this, Tuyi stared hard at the Crow commander.

“They learned that they cannot be trusted.”

Madarao was in a train heading west. He shared the small compartment with Tevak, Link, and Tokusa. The bags carrying their few possessions were stowed under the seats.

“I am not going on any more missions with you, Tokusa,” Link said, his voice muffled because of the broken nose hidden by gauze. He was sitting next to the other boy.

“You wound me. At any rate, it’s not up to you,” Tokusa said cheerfully.

“But you burnt my hair.” Link’s hair now reached only to the top of his ears. It was too bad. Madarao had liked the braid.

“That’s not an injury, that’s a haircut. If you want an injury, get your arm broken…and right now you can thank me, because it was high time you got a boy’s haircut,” said Tokusa, not that he was one to talk. He’d singed more than Link’s hair, too—Link’s right hand and wrist were bandaged, and at times he fidgeted, uncomfortable. Tokusa’s teasing distracted him from his wounds, so Madarao ignored their bickering. Tevak was staring out the window at the rice paddies and distant, misty shapes of mountains.

Tevak was well. Tokusa would regain the full use of his arm soon. Link’s wounds were minor. Madarao catalogued their injuries and concluded that all was well.

That was the most important thing.

When Madarao was older, he was going to lead his own team and lead it well (and at the Sixth Lab, he’d had a taste of that). He knew he had talent. So did his superiors, since they’d chosen him to train at the Asian Branch and meet the Second Exorcists, although those two had turned out to be idiots and not yet Exorcists at all. No wonder they were called “Second.”

They mattered to the war, but not to Madarao. Very few things mattered to Madarao. That was safer.

He watched the landscape of paddies along with Tevak. Among the important things, she was most important. Ever since they’d been picked up by the Vatican, Madarao had planned ahead: he, the older brother, would lead a team, and she would be on it. Before that day, they had to prove they worked together best, so he could deflect accusations of favoritism. Tevak had talent too. So far, so good.

Protecting another Crow was tricky. For one thing, since the two of them were old enough to accompany the full Crows on missions together in their training, Tevak protected him too. More worrying was how, if you were a Crow, someday you might have to die for a mission to succeed. Every day their instructors reminded them of this, it seemed. Madarao didn’t mind. He agreed that the mission was important, and in some cases worth giving his life for., But he’d rather be a good Crow and survive. He had to be smart. “Do you think we’ll have to throw our lives away on purpose?” Tevak had asked after one lesson, not afraid, but with worry in her eyes. So they’d planned that too:  if they had to sacrifice themselves, if their lives were by some unlikely chance enough to win the war, they would decide together, and die together. This scenario resolved, Madarao went back to his better plan, that they live.

Link retrieved his bag by hooking his foot through the strap. “I still have some cookies left. Would anyone else like one?”

“Yes,” said Tevak, and Tokusa held out his hand.

Madarao wanted Link and Tokusa on his team, too. (So far, so good.) Although easily flustered, Link was smart, not quite in the way Madarao was smart, but intelligence and hard work made for a good Crow, too. He’d even attracted the notice of Secretary Leverrier, though Madarao didn’t know if this was an advantage or a worrying development. Leverrier was much more powerful than Madarao, and he couldn’t have climbed to the position of Secretary by using his time to bake sweets with trainees. For now, though, Link, who was in Tevak’s year, was intent on his training, and spent much of his time outside of lessons with Tevak and Madarao.

Link handed out a cookie each to Tevak and Tokusa. The train compartment filled with the smell of sugar and cinnamon. He looked at Madarao expectantly.

“I don’t want one,” said Madarao. That much sugar made his head hurt. “Give mine to Tevak.”

Tevak was happy to accept a second cookie.

“Ooh, favoritism,” said Tokusa. Madarao glared at him.

Tokusa did a lot of stupid things and could get annoying, but he was smart about people. And some of those stupid things he did because he cared even more than most about fighting for the Order—and devotion, too, made for a good Crow. On top of that, he’d once come from the same kind of place Madarao and Tevak had, the refugee communities living along the northern coast of China. Central recruited a number of trainees, there. Some Central picked up off the streets, and others were volunteered by their parents. Madarao couldn’t decide if this shared point was important, but one way or another he’d gotten to know Tokusa pretty well.

“Did you want another?” Link asked Tokusa. If Madarao knew Link, he was planning to eat four.

“No, thank you.”

“Oh. Then you shouldn’t’ have a reason to complain.”

Despite how the train jostled them, Tevak ate her cookies carefully enough to avoid crumbs. Madarao rested a hand on her head. She leaned against him, and he against her. Tokusa and Link shut up for a moment, because they were eating.  

This was what was important. If others got hurt, he didn’t care. If sometimes he had to redefine what was important, what was his, well, that was too bad, but you had to expect some losses.

Link rested his hands on his bag and looked out the window. “Do you suppose the trip back will take as long as the trip there?”

“Probably,” said Madarao.

“Maybe it will seem shorter.”

“That was a rather trying visit, wasn’t it? Not that I would take it back,” said Tokusa.

Tevak stretched her legs. “I’m glad we’re going home,” she said.