“No, it’s just that maybe that’s what Weld needs. Love, trust, caring, sharing, and that intimacy that isn’t only about mashing stuff together. It can be about being someone’s shoulder.”

“And the other stuff?”

“You can only keep trying with the cooking. I don’t know if I have any advice to give when it comes to bedroom stuff—”

“What advice would you give me if I had a real body, like this?”

“Communicate, set expectations, communicate. The first time will be embarrassingly bad. If it’s the right person, then that doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah. I think he’s the right person.”

“Sveta,” I said. I reached out and touched her arm. My fingertips hit hard surface before they hit the skin that was projected. I gave her arm a slight waggle. “We have a bit of cash flow. We have contacts. We’re in a position that matters. I wouldn’t rule out options. You could pursue other options like Capricorn is.”

“In group, Tristan talked about how he’s lost hope. I don’t know if he’s pursuing any more. We chase these bright lights that our powers give us, but in reality, Scion was just the glowy ball on the forehead of an angler fish—so much bigger and more vicious than he appeared to be, and he was strong, before. The problems we’re dealing with are the same. Two people stuck in one body. One person stuck in a monstrous body. A bunch of powers being shared around and tossed together. They aren’t small or insignificant, really. But they’re nothing compared to the massive, powerful engines that are behind them. They’re decoys, the pinkie toes of giants.”

Outside, the snow was blowing harder. There wasn’t much traffic.

I built on her statement. No use denying it. “There were people who had good glimpses and who remembered them, after Gold Morning. Mountain sized, island sized. Maybe continent-spanning.”

“And they’re like computers. They’re limited but they aren’t stupid.”

I shook my head. “Not stupid, but not genius either. It’s a specific kind of intelligence and focus. They make mistakes or miscalculate. There are capes who do nothing wrong who get screwed over by their power—”

“Ashley. Me. Chris, maybe.”

“And capes who, if the agent had more sense, wouldn’t have been allowed to operate like they did. Khepri. Though Khepri was a special case.”

“You know the story about Khepri?”

“I heard from Amy,” I said.

In the instant, still feeling the glow from seeing Sveta enjoy shopping earlier, and even feeling okay as I tried to talk a friend through a tough relationship snarl, I’d let Amy’s name slip without the snarl of negative thoughts that usually accompanied it.