“You have the gall to ask that after raising your voice in here, threatening us?”

“I made no threat.”

“You are a threat. You have the power, I’ve been told, to kill all of us here. Our soldiers might shoot you, but these others you’ve brought with you could kill them, for all we know.”

The ‘walk softly and carry a big stick’ might have been something they prized, but the moment we didn’t speak softly…

Aian spoke, giving the order. His translator voiced it in English. “Take them.”

My eye fell on Amy. The fear that ran through me had a grip to it, paralyzing. They were putting me in her charge, and I’d just told her off. I’d just been harsh with her.

Did that impact her willingness to obey? I had a fundamental understanding of her yet I had zero idea what she might do. If pushed, did she refuse, try to prove herself to me by refusing to take action against me? Did she go the other way?

Which was worse?

Did she internalize all of this and slip further? All it had taken for Hunter might have been a similar hair color and appearance, a bit of exhaustion, and Amy had slipped, had made a critical error.

If we said no, fought, ran, or brought war to their doorstep, then they rescinded aid. We would take the blame, and they would claim a victory in that, having brought us low and reminded us of our place.

“Us too?” my mother asked.

“You’re the custody of the Red Queen,” the translator said. “Her responsibility is yours. Your dereliction is hers.”

This is why they need help escaping. They were roped in with Amy. If they left, it was deemed Amy’s failure. Prisoners in the loosest sense.

We’d had to make our decision. The Shin parahumans now had to make theirs. Marquis had no reason to be fond of us but in a weird way I could trust him most. My dad. My mom. Spruce. Chris. Amy. As I got to the last name on that list, the amount of trust I had in the individual dwindled.

Fuck.

I nodded, mostly to myself, and that seemed to be the signal that gave permission to the Shin parahuman group. Not as organic as Miss Militia leaving Breakthrough to make a call without any input from her, but… whatever.

“What do I do?” Natalie asked.

“Go with them. You’ll be the back and forth for them and Gimel,” Miss Militia told her. “Come back here, report to me. They should treat you well.”

“Damn. Okay,” Natalie said.

“All of you do your best, avoid responding to any taunts or tricks,” Miss Militia said, her voice quiet enough for just our group. She turned to Vista. “And if it comes down to it and it seems they intend to castigate you or anything like that, escape.”

I spoke, “That would mean—”