“Hi,” was the addendum from—I couldn’t call her my sister because that familiarity combined with relative proximity upset me on a deeper level. I couldn’t call her Amy for much the same reason. From Amelia. I felt my skin crawl. “And this is Dot.”

I had to look to see, getting my first really good look at the little squirrel-like companion. Big ears with longer hair drawing to a point at the tips, a long prehensile tail with a tuft at the end, and big eyes.

“Should we call you Amy, Amelia, or Panacea?” I asked.

“Amy, please. Same as always.”

“And are you actually creating life from—from nothing?”

“No. She’s her own being. It’s really good to see you. It’s nice to meet you, Breakthrough. Tress, I’ve heard a lot about you, secondhand. Swansong, we meet again. Same, Cryptid, kind of.”

I’d known she and Swansong had crossed paths. She had checked Bonesaw’s work on Amy’s hands. Cryptid, though?

I swallowed and the swallowing made my throat hurt, it was so tight.

“Bianca,” Capricorn said. “What can we do for you? I’m guessing you saw us on television, and you decided to open discussions.”

Bianca didn’t reply right away.

“A power was taken from me,” Bianca said. “Without it, I can’t return to my throne. I’m being hunted and fucking hounded, and I get no peace.”

“We’ve been keeping an eye on you,” Capricorn said. “We didn’t see any assassination attempts.”

“Not lately. They’re active elsewhere, which freed me up enough to meet with Amy and her father.”

As she’d said ‘elsewhere’, she had turned her head. Indicating the portals?

“Flashbang or Marquis?” I asked.

“Marquis,” Amy replied.

Her voice got to me more than anything. Hesitant, quiet, perpetually apologetic. I didn’t want apologies. I just wanted to feel normal.

“An ally,” Bianca said. “I like people with their rules. Discipline. It’s a good mindset to have.”

“Including Monokeros?” Swansong asked.

Bianca pressed two fingers to her lips, kissing the knuckles halfway down.

“That doesn’t tell me anything,” Swansong said.

“Silence is golden,” Amy translated.

Gold is a loaded word. Idioms or gestures from strange Earths might work better than running away with this.

Gold. The tattoos on Amy’s hands had traces of gold. More black, more red.

“If you’ll help me get what you need, I’ll help you with our mutual enemies and I will reward you. Help me take power, and I have a world’s worth of wealth and resources. I can make you head of a state. I can give you power and influence here. I can tell you that people in my world were very interested in deciphering powers. They helped make me what I am, unwittingly, but they were happy in the end. The, ah, monsters who made you, painted Tress, that icon on your cheek—”