“This is wrong, Glory.”

“You said you knew what you were doing, L. It’s just a Compulsion-Knowledge matrix with a feedback-”

“The runes are correct. You know that’s not what I meant. This is a child.”

My head was pounding. I couldn’t see anything, even though I was certain my eyes were open. What had happened? The last thing I remembered, I was in that bus stop enclosure, and I was talking to…

“Please, Liara. A child by the Mundanes’ inane time-based maturity scale. Lily told me this girl has more of a connection to my daughter than anyone in the city, and I can feel Cheri’s magic on her even now. What kind of child would be capable of thwarting Heinrich and the Karalis girl at their own game?”

It came flooding back to me. I’d met a woman who introduced herself as Cheri’s mother, and she’d done something to me. The world had shifted suddenly, and in the moments before I’d fallen unconscious, I’d caught a glimpse of a stone cathedral, brilliant lights pouring through stained glass windows of a complexity that warred with my brief recollection.

If I wasn’t terribly mistaken, I’d been teleported.

I was lying on my back, and attempting to rise saw me moving barely an inch before some sort of chain arrested my movements. Panic flooded through me as I tested my mobility in every direction, finding it similarly inhibited.

“Oh, look. Your fussing woke her up.”

The blackness fled from my vision like someone had pulled a cloth from in front of my eyes, though I’d felt no such obstruction. I blinked blearily in the sudden light, a lamp positioned near the ceiling in such a way as to be almost blinding. I turned my head to the left and right, finding the room virtually featureless. Gray stone brick, barely ten feet across and maybe fifteen feet long.

Leaning against the wall to my left was the woman who had kidnapped me. Glory, she’d said her name was. The winter gear she was wearing was gone, leaving her in a rich-looking red shirt, a collar cut low with strings tying it together at the bodice, with similarly styled cloth pants, flowing in a way that reminded me of the martial style in kung-fu movies. If I had any room to doubt she was actually Cheri’s mother, it vanished as I noticed her hair. The same as Cheri’s, a veritable mane of hair in different rainbow shades, only hers was longer, fuller, and the colors seemed brighter. The violet eyes were what stole my attention, however.

There was hatred in them, far removed from the kind, motherly persona she’d been displaying back in Haden. The intensity made me shiver, and I felt increasingly worried at the position I’d let myself fall into. It didn’t seem such a stretch to imagine the woman slitting my throat, with an expression like that.

To my right, there was a man and a woman. I recalled their style of dress from when the girl from the Prism Council had visited us at the Clubhouse. They wore the same gaudy cloaks, and had the same eerie aura of power emanating from them.

The man, whose cloak was a deep blood-red, stood tall and broad of shoulder, his arms crossed. I could see the shadow of stubble on the chin beneath the hood and he frowned as I glanced at him, but he otherwise stood statue-still, his glowing red eyes never leaving mine. His companion lacked his rigidity. She shuffled her feet, the hood of her emerald green cloak lowering to reveal a kindly, middle-aged face framed by straight black hair. She cleared her throat uncomfortably.

“Ms. Browman, do you know why you’re here?”

I thought about that for a moment before deciding on the safe answer.

“No.”

Without warning, pain like I’d never felt before coursed through me. We’d done experiments, back in middle school, where we got to experience what low-voltage electric shocks were like. This was similar; the way it seemed to vibrate through my frame, randomly contracting and expanding my muscles, only instead of dull force it was fire. I writhed for a few seconds before I reached my limit and a pained scream tore out of my throat.

As quickly as it had started, the pain disappeared. I realized that I’d been arching my back only when I slumped back to the table, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

I felt movement around the table near my feet and looked up to see a fourth person I hadn’t seen in my previous examination. She looked older than me, but only just. Early twenties or so, at a guess. She had blonde hair pulled back into a bun, which when combined with her narrowed, serious eyes gave her a rather severe appearance. She wore the same kind of uniform that Vengeant O’Sullivan had, when she’d first approached us outside the clubhouse.

“That was what we call a veracity-based feedback array,” she said, speaking with the business-like tone I normally associated with busy doctors or nurses. “Lie-detector, in your vernacular. The experience will trigger every time you speak anything but the truth.”

That wasn’t good.

The woman in green approached the table, standing next to where my head was secured. “Now that you understand, please don’t attempt any further dissembling. It’s possible to fool the array, with magic or Compulsions, but you have neither at your disposal, and I’d like to avoid any unnecessary suffering. Do you know why you’re here?”

I grit my teeth, staring at the ceiling with hard eyes.

“Yes.”

Glory made an amused sound, while the woman, who I could only assume was Lady Green, frowned.

"Why do you believe you are here? And be warned: the array will automatically assume fifteen seconds of silence to be a lie.”

Heading off my intended strategy of holding my tongue to avoid giving up any information. They must have done this a lot.

“Cheri,” I said, delaying as long as I felt comfortable. I definitely didn’t want to get shocked again.

Lord Red reacted visibly to the name. He straightened slightly, his crossed arms tightening. Then again, he would be excited. His quarry was so close at hand.

“Do you know the whereabouts of Cheri Vinaldi?” Lady Green pressed.

“I do not,” I answered, trying not to feel terribly smug about it. This, at least, was a contingency that we’d-

“Do you know anyone who does?”

Well, shit.

“Yes.”

“Who is that person?”

“Someone…” I said, racking my brain for some way around the lie detector, “...someone close to me.”

The lie detector said no. The pain lasted for less time than it had previously, only a moment or two if I had to think about it, but it was still more than enough to have me panting, tears welling in my eyes as I tossed my head in impotent frustration.

“Equivocation is interpreted as falsehood,” Lady Green placidly explained. “As is sarcasm, in case you might feel the need.”

“You said you know someone that knows where my daughter is,” Glory said, moving from her position by the wall to stand at the head of the table. I had to lay my head down and look straight up to see her. She was upside-down to me, which added a layer of disorientation. “Who is that person?”

I glared up at her, my mouth held tightly shut. When the pain came this time, I was ready. As ready as I really could be. I still writhed as the energy twisted my muscles, but I kept my stare on Glory’s violet eyes, trying to channel my defiance through nothing but my gaze. It probably lost some of its impact when I started screaming, but I got the feeling that the shock was lengthened when it responded to silence.

Glory’s face bore a twisted smile as she watched me strain against my bonds. Once the pain subsided and I collapsed back to the table, she leaned down, her lips inches away from my ear.

“You’re going to break eventually,” she whispered. “But personally? I hope you struggle first.”

This was a pretty sadistic mess I was in. I looked over to where Lady Green and Lord Red stood. He still had the same intense, stoic expression, but she was looking increasingly uncomfortable. That being said, the way she currently had her gaze averted lead me to believe that it wasn’t quite the type of discomfort that would see her object.

“Who...is...that...person?” Glory hissed.

“Fuck you,” I shot back, barely even finishing the epithet before my screaming began again. 

This time, it didn’t end quickly. There was a moment, around ten seconds in, where my fury and resolve ebbed, and panic set in as I realized that they could probably keep it up for as long as they wanted. I screamed until all the air had fled my lungs, but the fire running through them kept me from drawing another breath. I tossed and strained, my throat producing little more than shallow croaks. My eyes rolled in their sockets, my fingernails digging into the strange composite material of the table beneath me.

When it finally stopped, I felt darkness creeping in on the edges of my vision. I went toward it gladly, anything to stave off that pain.

Glory slapped my cheeks sharply with both hands, jerking me back to wakefulness.

“No rest for the wicked,” she said cheerfully.

I groaned, even the small noise making my throat burn. If this continued much longer, or intensified any further, I’d almost certainly tear my vocal chords. Not that there was any other alternative, not at this point. I wasn’t about to give Tyler or Cheri up. Not like this.

“Wicked,” I gasped, my head lolling back and forth. Each time it fell to one side, Glory would move it back upright, where it would promptly roll over again. I barely had the strength to keep my neck muscles engaged. “Strong words for...torturers...kidnappers...”

I was barely awake enough to widen my eyes as Glory raised a fist and punched it through the table next to my head. Her eyes were glowing crimson, just like Cheri’s did when she used her strength.

“Glory!” Lady Green cried, rushing forward to grab the rainbow-haired woman by the shoulders. “You mustn't!”

“She dares-” Glory shouted, struggling against her companion’s grip. In my less than lucid state, I wondered idly how Lady Green was managing to restrain her at all, if Glory was using the same kind of super-strength I’d seen Cheri use. The struggle continued for a few tense moments before Glory relaxed, still breathing heavily through her nose.

I realized they were looking toward the only man in the room. Lord Red. His arms uncrossed, he paced slowly to the side of the table I was strapped to.

“Calm yourself, my love,” he said, and for a confused second I thought he was talking to me. I mean, he was looking at me. Then reason cut through the pain-addled fog that hung over my brain. “It serves her purpose to make you upset. You tip our hand, or snap and kill her. Either way, she puts off giving up what she knows.”

The truth dawned on me in a stunning one-two punch of clarity. The woman’s over-the-top reaction, the hate and fury she displayed where one might expect villains to be gloating and composed.

These weren’t the bad guys.

I began to laugh, an unfortunately maddened sound. I blamed my recent torture and the ridiculous circumstances.

“You think we kidnapped Cheri,” I said, gasping the words between my almost delirious humor.

Lord Red frowned down at me. “You deny this?”

I nodded, still chuckling.

“Say it.”

“We didn’t kidnap Cheri,” I said, and I felt almost giddy when the words didn’t accompany a surge of pain.

Every head in the room turned to the woman who stood at my feet. She produced a thin wooden stick, the tip of it glowing with a pale blue light, and began prodding at the table beneath me.

“The array is still functioning,” she said eventually. “It’s the truth.”

“She’s diverting agency, then,” Glory said, though I could hear the uncertainty in her voice. “She worked for the person who took her, so she-”

“Cheri stayed with us of her own free will,” I said, cutting through her excuses. I realized the fastest way to get out of this would be to leave them no room for doubt. “She was my friend, and considers me one. We sheltered her, fed her, and provided her with clean clothes and entertainment. The only reason she remained hiding was because the last thing in the world that she wanted was to come back here. To you.”

Silence settled heavily in the room. Lord Red’s face darkened. The woman at my feet- I think Glory had called her Liara?- looked worriedly at Glory, who stood with her head hanging, fists clenched.

“Heidi,” Lord Red said softly, “please take Glory and go. I want to talk to our guest alone.”

“Alone?” Liara asked.

Lord Red nodded. “Disable the array before you leave, please. It would appear we were grievously wrong.”

I expected something flashy, but Liara simply tapped the surface of the table with her little stick and I immediately felt my bindings disappear. She gave Lord Red a worried look, but the man shook his head and nodded towards the wall of the room my head was pointing toward.

I sat up as the three women left. Lady Green waved one hand at the featureless wall and a door-sized section of it simply slid upwards, disappearing into the ceiling and revealing an opening out into a well-lit, carpeted hallway. She guided Glory through it, who went along willingly, if a little numbly. As soon as Liara passed over the threshold, the stone fell back into place.

I was sore like I’d spent the last three days desperately exercising. I stretched in every way I could from a seated position, groaning with the painful pleasure of releasing the stress from my overused muscles. Lord Red watched me silently, and I could tell from his expression that he was looking me over in a different sense than he had before. No longer weighing the aspects of an enemy, but still calculating. Still quantifying.

“An apology is obviously the first thing owed,” he said after I’d stopped my stretching. “So on behalf of the Rainbow Nations, I am deeply, eternally sorry.”

“This isn’t exactly something your country needs to apologize for,” I pointed out. “I’m not an enemy of the state. This was you and your wife.”

His mouth half-opened, then closed again.

“You’re right, of course,” he said, smiling ruefully. “Well then, I, William Vinaldi, profess to having made an unforgivable mistake. I swear to do anything in my power that I can to make it right. That being said, the situation as it stands must be handled with a certain...nuance.”

I sighed. I’d been expecting as much.

“Because of the exchange,” I said.

William nodded. “Diplomacy between our two peoples has been...difficult. Wizards have a great many ill-conceived, yet long-standing notions about how Mundanes are to be treated, and breaking them of these prejudices has proven to be more than a four-year task. On the other hand, as delighted as the Mundane nations’ youth appears to be with the notion of magic being something they could possess in their lifetime, the bureaucracy of the world as a whole is...standoffish.”

“I had a short conversation with Heinrich about this, or something like it,” I said. “About acceptance of magic outpacing the acceptance of integration. I understand where you’re coming from and, to a certain extent, I understand what you’re willing to do in order to ensure integration is a success. What I want to know is why Cheri left. I don’t have much of a read on you, but I can tell Glory loves her fiercely. I can’t imagine there’s much she wouldn’t do to keep Cheri safe. So why? What am I missing?”

Lord Red let out a long sigh. His hand came up and pushed his long hood back, running through salt-and-pepper hair that was shaved close to his head. As the hood fell, the red glow in his eyes faded, and he was left looking like little more than a tired father.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the table to which I’d been magically fastened only moments before. I nodded, a bemused smile on my face, and he took a seat next to me. The way his legs kicked restlessly, hanging over the edge of the table, made him seem very human, all of a sudden. I hadn’t realized I was thinking of him as otherwise.

“Where to begin,” he mused.

“The beginning is usually a reliable place,” I said.

His mouth quirked, like he was suppressing a smile. “You remind me of Liara, when she was your age. Sharp as a knife. Brave with a bit more than a dash of stubborn. But you’re right. We’ll start at the beginning.”

William’s eyes took on an unfocused appearance, like he was looking somewhere far away. It struck me that I didn’t really know anything about him, other than his willingness to torture someone to find his daughter. According to the limited information that had been released about the Prism Council, Lord Red was the leader of a reformation in the Rainbow Nations, one that had taken quite a long time and a lot of bloodshed. I realized bemusedly that, despite the dark nature of our meeting, it was incredibly possible that he was a hero.

“This world was created, Emily.”

I let out a disbelieving laugh. This was hardly the explanation I was expecting, but I did say to start at the beginning. I just didn’t think that would involve a lesson in wizard theology.

“Wizards believe in God?” I asked, doing my best to keep the incredulity out of my tone.

“God is...more of a Mundane notion,” he admitted. “There’s a lot of Mundane mythology that deifies some of the more powerful wizards. Olympus, Asgard, Atlantis. Avalon, even. Arthur Pendragon was a wizard, as were Ares and Zeus and Odin. There was a time, long ago, when our creator wanted us all to live with each other. Side by side, Mundanes and wizards. There are few religions nowadays that aren’t born of that distant time.”

I could see why they’d kept that little detail a secret. There wasn’t a religion in the world that would take to that revelation gracefully, and accusations of blasphemy were hardly conducive to diplomacy.

“So what kind of...person...was the creator?” I asked.

“No kind of person,” William answered. “He looked like us, but I never saw a similarity that ran more than skin deep. He was...different, for lack of a better term. Cold, aloof. As far as we could tell, he was the source of all magic in the world. You see, when he created this planet, he first created a...city, I guess you would call it. The planet was built around it, hiding the first city at its center.”

I couldn’t control my skepticism. “Wizards believe there’s a city at the center of the planet? That seems a little stranger than some of the religious notions I’ve heard, and they get pretty out there.”

He laughed, the sound genuine, if a little rueful. “I’ll admit it does seem strange. But Agartha is real. I’ve seen it. It’s...for lack of a more palatable explanation, it’s the place where all mankind gains their magic. We’re all connected to it, like he intended.”

I shot him a glance. He looked serious.

“Is that where you learned about him? The creator?”

“I apologize,” William said. “I think I allowed you to form a misconception, when you made the comparison to a god. You see, it’s sort of in the essence of a god to be absent. Almost necessary. Because gods aren’t real. Nothing in this world is infallible, nothing is untouchable or invincible or immortal. But gods have to be all of those things, so by their very nature they have to be absent. No, the Rainbow Mage was real. He lived among us, he ruled the Rainbow Nations until just four years ago. I know he’s real, because I worked for him.”

He paused, staring down at his empty hand. So instantly that I knew it had to be teleportation, a glittering jewel appeared in his palm. It was flat, with ornate golden loops that looked like they were designed to fit around the fingers of a hand, and it glowed with a subtle, flickering light.

“I know he was real,” William said quietly, still gazing down at the trinket, “because I killed him.”

He turned to meet my stare, and the burning crimson light was back in his eyes. I shivered, despite the neutral temperature of the room. He’d been trying to emphasize the distinction between the Rainbow Mage and the Mundane notion of God. Gods were invented, faith and time-based distortion of powerful wizards. The Rainbow Mage, then, wasn’t a god, by that metric. He was more.

And the man before me killed him.

William broke his gaze away before I did. “It would be very incorrect of me to suggest that I succeeded in it all by myself, of course. The rest of the Prism Council fought with me, in a war that lasted ten years from start to finish.”

“Why?” I asked. I barely recognized my voice. I guess I wasn’t used to speaking in truly awed tones. “Why did you kill him?”

“Because he was a tyrant, Emily. He was mortal, as much as any of us, only his grasp on magic was stronger. Natural. He could weave his magic from the natural energies that permeate the entirety of the universe. Our magic is a pale imitation of the miracles he was capable of, using the admittedly deep wells of magic stored in Agartha instead of the majesty of the Seven Roads. He could have banished sickness and famine from the world in a leisurely afternoon, could have ended all the wars of the world with a hallowed word, could heal the dying and restore the dead. But he never did. All he cared about was amassing more power.”

Will’s face twisted, like there was an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

“I worked for him for eight years, fighting his battles, silencing rebellions and dissidence before I learned that I stood on the wrong side. Eight years of murder and kidnapping and torture, all in the name of a being that I would eventually turn on. But turn on him I did. I gathered a group of like-minded souls, and together we fought our ten year war through his army of sycophants and loyalists. Our journey ended here in the Rainbow Citadel, where we fought our way to the seat of his power and slew him in his throne room.”

My mouth had gone dry. I swallowed slowly, releasing the tension that had built in me with a deep breath.

“This is a lot to take in,” I said eventually, “but what does it have to do with Cheri?”

If the war lasted ten years, and ended four years ago...It didn’t escape my notice that this tale was exactly as old as Cheri.

“You could say that Cheri was the catalyst for it all,” William said. “On the day she was born, I was delivered a message from the Rainbow Mage. He congratulated me on Cheri’s birth, informed me that I was to be allowed to raise her, and that he would be...taking ownership of her when she came of age.”

An oddly bitter smile crossed his face.

“I’ve never seen Glory so angry. She must have leveled half the east wing of the mansion when I told her. And she made me promise: on both our lives, we would never allow anyone to take our daughter from us. So Cheri was hidden. From the day she was born until the day I slew our creator, Cheri lived in a room perhaps twice the size of this one. She wanted for nothing, save for companionship I imagine, though her mother and I did our best to visit with her as often as we could.”

My heart hurt, hearing that. I had always wondered why Cheri had grown attached to our group. We weren’t unpleasant, I didn’t think, but we were on the odd side of misfits. Even still, she’d taken to us like a fish to water, and her support of the group had grown by leaps and bounds every day. She sparred with Jay, goofed off with Roman, gossipped with Marika, and taught me during every other spare moment. It had always struck me as almost gluttonous, the way she seized every opportunity she had to interact with us. Now I knew why.

We were her first, her only friends in the world.

“In the four years between then and now, I profess that I made a mistake. I’d grown so used to protecting her, so obsessed with the idea of keeping her safe at all costs that I began to see enemies in every shadow. I told her that the year after the war ended was still too tumultuous, and the year after that we were dealing with burning out the remainder of the loyalist organizations. The year after that I became convinced that the White City was preparing to invade, and then the year of the exchange came. Cheri presented me with an ultimatum: She was going to participate in the exchange, and see the world that she’d been hidden from, or she was going to leave.”

He ran another hand through his short hair, a shaky sigh passing his lips.

“I hadn’t seen her grow up. There were times when the war kept me away for months at a time, and one stint as a prisoner of war saw me separated from Cheri for a full year. After we won, I was so busy with the Council that my visits grew shorter and rarer until...The girl I had that last argument with wasn’t anything like the helpless baby I remembered, from all those years ago. I was wary, then, because she was already so much like her mother, and so much like…”

The words died on his lips, and I glanced at him to see what had caused him to stop talking, but he just looked pained.

“I lied to her. It was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, and I don’t know if I’ll ever make it right. I told her that she could join the exchange, knowing in my heart that I had no intention of letting her. And she knew too. The next morning, she was just gone. We tracked her for nearly a month. I had my best man on the task, until one night he was attacked while on the trail. Captured, vanished. We began to fear the worst. It...made us foolish. Hasty.”

“So you thought I was a part of the group that attacked your man,” I said, feeling the situation begin to come together.

He nodded. “We recovered him, or thought we had, in a warehouse in downtown Haden. He was being held captive by a group of soldiers from one of Avalon’s only enemies. A nation of bloodthirsty heretics, formerly exiled by the Rainbow Mage for their blasphemies. Blood mages. The White City.”

I felt something click. “He was the impostor, wasn’t he? The one who attacked Marika at the Clubhouse.”

“That’s right,” he said. “A small blessing, if a greatly relieving one. I know not what the White City wants with my daughter, but for them to be off the trail for now is quite reassuring. Skinshifter was one of the White City’s most feared operatives. His infiltrations have been at the heart of nearly thirty high-profile assassinations as well as three full-on invasion attempts. He has recently been paired with a young blood priest they call Fantasma, but there’s been no sign of her presence in Haden. She’s quite elusive, but all of her infiltrations are precipitated by the discovery of a message, usually a taunt or a warning to the target. She’s stuck to this pattern ever since she first appeared, and we have no reason to believe she would stop now.”

I felt my stomach drop. “These messages...are they usually written...in blood?”

William turned his eyes on me, and I saw fear and realization in the glowing crimson orbs.

“A week and a half ago,” I said grimly. “Someone painted a message on the wall of the Tryhard Club. ‘No home, no haven. I found you.’”

“This is impossible,” he said, though he leapt to his feet. “Fantasma never waits this long. We’ve never been certain as to what her power is, but we’ve got it loosely classified as some kind of higher invisibility. We have several reports of her fooling some of our highest level sensors. If she’s known where Cheri is all this time…”

If I thought the sinking feeling in my stomach would bottom out eventually, I was wrong.

“What if she realized that she wasn’t strong enough to capture Cheri on her own?” I asked, closing my eyes as I walked back through every awkward interaction, every lingering glance, every moment where I just happened to forget where she went. “What if she’s been waiting, too close to her target to be suspect, for an opportunity to catch her when she’s vulnerable?”

William’s eyes narrowed. “You know who she-”

The room’s hidden door slid open without warning, and the three women from before re-entered. At first, I thought they must have been listening in, ready to mobilize on some signal from William, but one look at Lady Green’s face had me thinking otherwise.

Her eyes were wide, her face drawn and pale, and she held one of the communicators that I’d seen the exchange students with, only hers was slightly slimmer and significantly gaudier.

“Glory, Heidi, Liara,” Will said, turning to the trio. “We’re moving out immediately. Fantasma is still on scene, and Emily thinks-”

“Will,” Glory cut him off. She shot me a regretful look, which I took with grace before realizing that the situation didn’t feel apologetic. Did she not want me to hear what she was about to say? She took a deep breath, and her voice had hardened when she went on. “We’re getting reports from Robin’s cell and some of the others we left.”

She shot me another glance, and I felt the prickle of panic begin to settle on my skin as I put two and two together.

“The White City is on the move,” she said. “Haden is under attack.”