“An army. An endless supply of people to be your thralls, with no need to recruit or kidnap.”

“The army has nothing to do with it. My information gathering apparatus has nothing to do with it. I have other tools that I’ve yet to reveal.”

“The top floor of your facility.”

Teacher nodded.

“The Horseman said he couldn’t go there, a phantom stopped him before he could.”

“A good thing too,” Teacher said. “I can trust you with this, and few others. If anyone knew what I had there, they would want it. Anyone, large or small, whatever world. I’m certain.”

I can trust you, he’d said. You in the plural. His eyes hadn’t focused on the man. That had been partially directed at her.

“I’ll trust you. Just tell me you’ll save my world.”

“I will. Carrying on where my predecessors left off, I suppose, saving worlds.”

“And your own? Gimel? Will you save it or leave it to fester?”

“Only to save it from itself.”

He’d been right, to invite her. To see her world leashed by an invisible chain. To give her a chance to scream to it that she’d changed, she’d played by its rules and she’d beaten it.

Saint approached, putting a hand on Teacher’s shoulder. He showed the man his phone. The Overseer barely had to look. The color of the screen said it all.

Red.

Things began in earnest now.

Black 13.9

The Old Man being held at gunpoint had arrested all of the private meetings and conversations in the upper floor. Most of the heat in the Lodge was coming from the kitchen built into the center of the ground floor, but that was a heat that diffused up and out from vents in the center of the upper floor, and we were arranged at the edges. The atmosphere was chilly, and eerily quiet for a dining area.

Nobody ate and nobody talked. Ears strained to hear us, despite the usual rules and expectations. We’d overturned the peace to a significant enough degree that the rules of the upper floor no longer held.

“Fine,” Semiramis said. “I’ll give you something small, you give me something, I’ll give you the rest.”

She put a slight emphasis on ‘you’, locking her eyes to me.

“Okay,” Tattletale answered.

“Is it?” I asked her.

“I’ve got a sense of Semi here. It’s okay. Really.”

Semiramis lowered her voice as she said, “Full name, please. I’d only allow a joke like that with friends and peers, and you’re far from being either.”

Tattletale smirked. Sveta did something under the table, and I saw the movement of her coat, like she’d been flicked or whipped. The smile dropped from Tattletale’s face.

“Understood,” Sveta told Semiramis.