“I say yes,” Tattletale said. She was just joining the group from behind Natalie’s car. One of the other buildings. “At least for now, the kids should get in the car and make up. Bring Chicken back, have them talk. It does more damage if they don’t at least say sorry to each other and get on the same page.”

Rachel heaved out a sigh, staring Tattletale down.

“Really,” Tattletale said. “I have the impression this is important. Let’s get someone to get the tinker stuff while we wait.”

“I swear,” Imp said, and her voice was hard. “If I have to have another funeral for the Heartbroken so soon, I’m gone, and I’m taking them with. Samuel was bad enough.”

“Okay,” Tattletale said.

Slowly, quietly, the mob was broken up, the kids sent their separate ways. Kenzie, Darlene, Candy, and after a minute, Chicken Little all gathered in the back of Natalie’s car, with Natalie sitting in the front, hands on the wheel, staring out at nothing in particular.

“You want me to bring your Damsel of Distress into the villain inner circle,” Tattletale commented.

“It’s what I said on the phone. Yeah.”

“Talk me through it.”

“You can work with controlled chaos. Semiramis wants a Little-Midas-like violent subfaction to bounce off against, it’s how she operates, and I know Damsel will like Semiramis’s shtick without them being so similar they’ll threaten each other. Prancer knows her and knows her team, pretty much.”

“She’s a known quantity, sure. But she’s a mess, and she’s petty.”

“She’s looking for direction. You’re looking to expand your collective power base. She captures a share of the villains out there that the rest of you guys don’t. Her being petty is her having aspirations without having a lot of hard-to-meet needs.”

“And what do you get out of this? You get to play kingmaker?”

“I get a villain who could blow a hole in reality off the streets and into a place where she’s being watched and encouraged to be cooperative,” I said. “For right now that’s all that matters.”

“Until this big, scary side project of yours comes through.”

“Maybe,” I said.

“You’re taking my kids and you’re taking my Chicken Little?”

“Lookout seems to think it’ll matter.”

“And she’s… really the one you want to be leaning on, in this specific moment?”

I sighed.

She looked out over the area where the skirmish had been happening. Most of the kids had cleared out.