“Yeah,” Lookout said. “It’s in my satchel.”

The satchel was more like a fanny pack, worn at the back, strap extending diagonally over the right shoulder and around the left side of her ribcage.

“And I don’t want to go up and down the stairs in armor,” Tristan said.

“Okay,” Natalie said. Tristan threw his keys to her—a small object thrown in the dark. By his accuracy more than anything, Natalie caught the keys.

And just like that, things were close to normal again. The shaking in my hands didn’t quite go away.

I saw Goddess raise one hand. The surface of the parking lot cracked, and in the lighting, streetlights and lights from the nearby building hitting the icy ground at an angle, it made the shift in the ground and the breaks in the ground stand out that much more.

She used her telekinesis to lift up a disc of ground from the parking lot, and as she did it, it was clear that the telekinesis had its own shape to it. Something geometric.

I’d have to keep that in mind, like I had to keep Sveta’s suit or Lookout’s facial expressions in mind. Quirks and weaknesses.

Tristan approached. I could still see glimmers of that earlier anger. I wasn’t sure exactly what was coming of it, though. To be that angry and—what? No focus? Was he burning it off or eating that anger and digesting it into some other form?

It was too many question marks in a row, coinciding with the shaking of my hands. I hated feeling weak. I liked being the declarative sort, the one who could list off bullet points and elaborate on them, not get caught up in wonderings and doubts.

“I get it,” Tristan spoke. His voice wasn’t his usual. “The sibling thing. Wrestling with… with wrongs.”

I nodded. I could believe it.

“Difference is, I was the wrongdoer,” he said. “The blood was on my hands.”

He held out a gauntleted hand, where it could catch the light. Amy had tattoos. Tristan had metal that had been tinted orange-red, with a wash that let the tint collect in crevices and cracks.

“I’m going to need you to keep me in check,” Tristan said.

“Check?”

“There aren’t many things that get to me, but we managed to press a few of those buttons tonight,” Tristan murmured. “The last few times I felt like this, I did things I wasn’t proud of.”

“Got it.”

“Keep me from doing something stupid, and I’ll have your back. Yeah?”

I nodded.

Goddess lifted up her disc. With a gesture, she picked up Lookout by the satchel, then deposited her on the disc. Sveta accepted a hand of help from Tristan and I.

While we waited for Natalie, Tristan stood with his eyes on the group. Quiet, he stated a simple pass phrase.

“Master–stranger?”

“Yes,” I said, barely audible.