I adjusted my bag at my shoulder, to indicate, and said, “I’ve got a report partially written up. If you could glance over it, let me know what you think? You know the Wardens and what their mindset is.”

“Sure.”

“I wanted to do some stuff with my costume later, but that might have to wait. It’d be nice to finalize some costume things when I get back to my place, but timing is getting tighter, since it’s already… seven thirty, and we have to get halfway across the city for ten thirty.”

“My offer stands, you know,” Weld said.

“Offer?”

“To help with any of the metalwork, when you get a new costume.”

It took me a second to connect the thought.

“What the hell, Weld? That was years ago, when I was thinking about rebranding and joining the Brockton Bay Wards.”

“It stands,” Weld said, smiling.

I paused. “You’re sure? I have stuff at my apartment.”

“I’m sure.”

“Thank you,” I said. I fired off a quick series of texts to Crystal.

Me:
Have you left yet?

Best Cousin:
i’m on my way out the door. promise

Me:
If it’s not too heavy to carry, can you bring the black shopping bag with the yellow leaf on it from under that table?

“Thank you,” I said, as I finished.

“You’re worried about this,” Weld said. “Sveta said you were tense. It’s bad?”

“It’s the Fallen, which aren’t great, and it’s a lot of villains who are pretty desperate for relevance. We’ve got to pitch this to the Wardens, I think we need more hands on deck, and from the murmurings I’ve heard, there aren’t many to go around.”

“There are some,” Weld said. “Advance Guard is on standby, others are out of rotation.”

“Advance Guard is… a thing,” I said. “We ran into them earlier. I’m not sure they’d cooperate unless made to.”

“You might run into trouble getting anyone to cooperate. If they aren’t occupied, they’re officially on standby. Their instinct is going to be to be ready and available in case something bigger happens.”

“Then I’d want to frame it in a way that would justify bringing these people out of standby?”

“Yep. Show me what you have?” he asked.

I pulled out my laptop, setting it on the coffee table, which was three planks set atop six planks, set firmly in place with metal bands around the perimeter. I wondered if it was built to be easily remade or rebuilt if it got broken.

The planks had been painted in what I recognized as Sveta’s style. Clear, bold outlines, almost like a paint-by-numbers picture, or a stained glass picture, but the colors that filled each space were rich, varied, and multi-textured. Blue that became green, or shaded red, or mottled orange.

Weld sat down next to me. I opened the document and showed him.