“We’ll refresh sooner than later, while we have options,” she said. “Open the doors, get some people out, find more dolls.”

“I’d have to make them, and it’s best if I get Teacher’s counsel about that,” Scapegoat said.

“You make them by passing on the loss of willpower until someone has so much they can’t function, yes?”

“More or less.”

“Then take them from my boys here,” she said, walking backwards, and laying a hand on the arm of one of her superheroes. “Just don’t take their feelings for me.”

The Black Goat looked uneasy at that.

“What’s wrong?” Ingenue asked. She pouted a bit. “You don’t like my idea?”

“If they turn on us, that gets messy.”

“They won’t,” she said. “Trust me.”

“I’ll take some,” he said.

“Take all of it. Rip off that sticker. If you want your frog boiled, you might as well turn the heat up to full, instead of by fractions.”

“I don’t think I will,” he said. “Sorry, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Hon,” she said. She stepped forward. The Black Goat stepped back. “I didn’t get to where I’ve been by being stupid.”

“The Birdcage?” he asked, and he scoffed a bit.

She smiled.

“No,” he said. “I’m not going to risk everything by loosening the one reliable leash we have on our thralls. I think that’s why Teacher sent me with you, to keep things sensible.”

She pouted, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

“No,” he said.

“Okay. I won’t threaten you. But I’ll warn you that people who cross me tend to meet unfortunate ends.” She maintained the puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

“Okay,” she said. “I won’t argue. I’m going to keep watch. I’m betting the sneaky regenerator who attacked the time before last is going to make another attempt after they’re done talking about plans.”

The Black Goat nodded, before turning his attention to the dolls that were holding all of the injuries.

She made her way to the ledge that looked down on the hallway below, a ladder by her feet leading the way down to the area that was littered with containers of fluid. As she passed her heroes, she touched one arm, her fingers running along body hair. She smiled up at the owner of that arm, Captain Claw. Pirate hero.

She let her shoulder brush the arm of the next. Leister. Handsome young man, bearing a trident.

She reached out to touch the shoulder of a third. Usher. She’d had to insist on a costume redesign, at the same time her boys were having their costumes remade in white, for clarity and camouflage.

And the fourth? Well… she was already at the ledge by the ladder by the time she thought to give him a warming touch or a look. She did have to keep her watch.