And underlying it all was Miss Militia’s warning. That we might need to use our powers. Guards and soldiers in various colors were arranged around the room, and a pretty good number were arranged right behind us, weapons put away, but still a lot of people with guns and short spears.

The others seemed to come to their consensus. Luis said something in another language, and then smiled. “You may.”

Miss Militia moved her hand, holding it so both hands were clasped behind her. “I come bearing reassurances. For their role in stopping the Blue Empress, you afforded Amelia Claire Lavere and Chris Elman some privileges and assurances. Today I’ve brought the other members of that group that played a role in stopping her, they played a lesser role, yes, but they ask for nothing but goodwill. We have a Natalie Matteson, unpowered, to speak for them.”

“Saying they played a role may be overstating it,” Chris said. His voice was surprisingly deep. A man’s voice, and I’d even suspect it was deeper than an average—

“Don’t make this harder,” Amy rebuked him, while interrupting my observation.

How could I have missed the sound of her voice and find it so deeply unsettling at the same time?

The translators repeated even those lines. A short statement, like a rock thrown into a pond in a cave, and then the resounding, distorted echo. A response, another series of voices filling the room. My heart was beating with a speed that surprised me.

Luis conferred with others in the other language before saying, “Would Natalie Matteson be willing to step into another room? My colleagues feel it would allow her to share her truth, and we could see how the stories line up.”

Natalie, nervous, looked to Miss Militia for input, then said, “If necessary.”

One of the people who had been translating and one of the people from the boxy-robed group stepped away.

I liked Natalie. In the paranoia of the moment and the tension of this scene, I had to wonder how much I trusted her interpretation of events.

“Not all of my colleagues agree that the Laveres and Elman should have received any favors,” Luis said.

“They don’t ask for much. Goodwill.”

“Will is easy, good is free, yet goodwill can be the hardest thing to give,” he said.

“Winter climate affords bridges,” Miss Milita said.

“Is it winter? Ignore the weather.”

“It’s chilly in here,” she told him.

Luis laughed. After the back and forth, it was the only sound without its ‘echo’ of translation.

Fuck me. They were speaking English and I wasn’t sure I understood what they were saying. Others from Shin seemed to. A few smiles.

“Yosef, Lone Sands. I like you, Militia,” one of the men in flowing clothes said. A woman I presumed was his wife was dressed in matching colors, her clothes wrapped around her. He did have an accent.