“As was I, for the latter part. Dragon is immensely powerful, but she, like any tinker, is dependent on her pre-established work to function at optimal capacity. The Dragonslayers knew this and used it against her in the past. Teacher used it against her here. With no satellites to use for remote access except the ones she deployed after passing through the portal, she was limited in what she could do. If she dies without redundant systems and infrastructure behind her, she dies for good, just as any of us would.”

Kenzie’s eyes dropped to the floor. At the same time, I made a bit of a face. I wasn’t sure he’d seen with the medical mask covering my mouth.

He’d seen. “…And there I go, proving my earlier point. I’m not always good at conversation, even or especially casual conversation. I heard about your teammate. I didn’t mean to prod a wound.”

That was casual?

Talking about death, dying, and the cape stuff?

Either way, I nodded.

“It’s okay,” Kenzie said. “I’ll forgive you your foibles if you forgive me mine.”

“We’ll work on them,” he said. To me, he said, “I don’t suffer from that same general need. I don’t often lose my technology. But I suffer for a lack of allies and friends. I could have gone ahead and cut my way through an army of people who only committed the crime of getting brainwashed, but I thought it better to support my team, my wife, and force him to keep committing forces.”

“It wasn’t easy,” I said.

He shook his head. “No, and neither is the aftermath. Teacher is free and untouchable for the time being, Ingenue is on the loose, and other thralls are operating elsewhere. Gary Nieves is wanting to make a meeting, bringing Dinah Alcott with him, of all people, and he has a great deal of political clout because of the ongoing riots and protests. We’re trying to secure the city and ensure the evacuation goes smoothly, and the only asset we have in the process of that is that Contessa is working with Citrine to manage it.”

I winced.

“Yeah,” he said. “My feelings exactly.”

Byron’s room was at the end of the hall. Rain was there, as was Vista, who wore the cloth part of her costume, but not her armor. She was curled up in a chair near Byron. Rain sat on the opposite side, shoes kicked off, sock-covered feet up on the side of the bed.

They were watching a movie, to the tune of regular beeps.

Byron lay on the bed, bandages on one arm, shoulder, and at his side. The bandages were clean, but there were hints of seepage, too thin to be straight blood, but with telltale crimson. He wore a t-shirt with parts cut out to accommodate the bandaging, and pyjama bottoms. He hadn’t woken as we’d entered.