“Out of sight and very in our minds,” Midas said, and his voice was lower. “Stowed in a basement in a building only the Wardens know about, made to watch or monitor key people the heroes have a problem with. People who have been fed pieces of his flesh.”

“That’s not what the heroes do,” Sveta said.

“Or in a place the Undersiders protect?” Midas asked. “Or elsewhere? He could be snatched up by another player. By Teacher. There’s no way of knowing, unless we watch him die before our eyes.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I said. “That’s not how we do things.”

“And you’re exaggerating,” Tattletale said. “You make him sound bigger than he is. Have some perspective. Is he strong? Yes. But once he’s gone he’s going to be so much trouble to retrieve that it would be a hundred times more effective and efficient to go after one of the other creepy thinkers or tinkers.”

“Like a certain young camera tinker?” Prancer asked. He was the only one who hadn’t stood up from the table or booth, and presently leaned back, casual.

“Not helping, Prance,” Tattletale muttered.

“Do you know what puts him even further out of reach?” Midas asked. “A beheading.”

“I know a few too many people who were cloned for me to be sure about that,” Sveta said.

“If you want to talk about perspective,” Midas said. “If there are questionable characters who can do that who are free and capable of resurrection, we have other worries. Be realistic. Death is final enough.”

“You’re acting like someone with something to hide,” Semiramis said.

Midas had more emotion in his voice, but he bore it well, sounding almost outraged, in a way I was betting was compelling for the twelve or so capes at the sidelines. “No. Tattletale is working to cultivate the impression we’re on different sides, Semiramis. When she agreed so quickly to my refusal to share information, it was because she plotted this. She knew that he would need to be dealt with. She knew you need this out of your way and that I’m not in a position to help with this. Think, Semiramis, think, you have niggling doubts. Little thoughts and things that don’t add up, that we’ve completely ignored.”

“This is a repeat of the fiasco just before the Navigators were attacked,” Semiramis said.

“Yep. Cries for blood,” Prancer said. “The heroes were applying pressure and villains decided to fight back, no holds barred. Your voice was a loud one, Midas.”

“You weren’t silent,” Midas answered.

“I was grieving. We all made mistakes. This course of action looks a hell of a lot like another one. One very convenient to Teacher, if we start fighting among ourselves.”