“Let’s get packed up,” Sveta said, not taking her eyes off me. “While we’re heading out, we can catch Victoria up what we were able to figure out while she was gone. We’ll see who we can convince without getting imprisoned or locked up by the Wardens.”

⊙

Our arrival at Cauldron saw a bit of a splitting up of our group. Imp was sitting on the stairs, wearing her black bodysuit and gray mask, a black scarf wrapped around her neck, and a leather jacket for the added warmth. Aiden ran over to her to ask questions, then ran back to Chris, who was carrying Kenzie’s tech.

There were others present too. Jessica. My mom. Aunt Sarah.

I veered in Imp’s direction, before she could disappear on us. I flew to get there faster, landing on stairs.

“Hey,” Imp said. “There was a whole thing.”

“I know.”

“We thought you might. Darlene said she was connected to the Chicken.”

“What happened?” I asked.

Imp shook her head. “Capricorn dying, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She confessed feelings for Candy, apparently, and didn’t take being turned down well. There’s more to it, but Tattletale told me to let her share that, when you come up. She thinks I’ll be undiplomatic or some bullcrap like that.”

I sighed, heavy. “Did you talk to Jessica, over there?”

“She came by. Talked with Tattletale.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ve got… I’ve got stuff to figure out, she’s going to be unconscious for another forty-five minutes minimum?”

“Tattletale figured an hour to two hours.”

“The Number Boy estimated lower, but okay.”

“Okay,” Imp said.

Aiden and Chris caught up with us. Chris still carried the tech.

I gave him the side-eye.

He growled, “I’ll carry it up. After seeing you manhandle that gun, I have to. My tinker pride can’t endure anything else.”

“Will we catch up with you after? Do we meet up?” I asked.

“No. I don’t know. I have to check on my giants. I told them to rest after the big retreat.”

I nodded.

“We might need them, depending,” he said, his back to me as he started trudging up stairs, already leaving. “I’ll fill them in.”

“I can do that after.” I’d rather do that, than have you give them the wrong impressions.

“I’ll do it,” he said, more firmly.

I relented.

It wasn’t worth fighting, and Chris was too… problematic. One didn’t poke a bear, and he was an especially surly bear.

Already, I was conserving my energy, preparing.

The breath I took felt like a full lungful of air, still.

“Thanks for the help, Chicken Little,” I said, as Chicken followed Chris. “Really.”

“Sure. Happy to.”

Good kid.