Within a small cell, Pan pulled her knees to her chest. The cream walls possessed recessed panels, and Pan traced the edges with her eyes. Over and over.

She wondered if she’d made the right decision. With a cuff on her ankle, she couldn’t use her powers. At least not the useful ones. The cuff prevented surges of arcane activity. It left her with her soft powers, like background healing and ghost sight. But, she couldn’t send a time message or draw a portal or levitate a damn thing.

“You really screwed up.”

Pan recognized Brynn’s voice. Out of the corner of her eyes, Pan saw her. She didn’t turn to face Brynn, or even shift her eyes in the ghost’s direction.

Brynn radiated cold. “I knew I was conducting operations with a child, but I didn’t realize how much of one. You’ve got to get free...”

Still, Pan didn’t look. “Get out.” Her voice was quiet but angry.

Brynn’s presence remained, but she said nothing.

“Get out, and don’t come back. I’ll be locked up for the rest of my days, so I don’t see what reason you have to hang around.” Pan refused to look at Brynn’s spirit. “Or, are you going to haunt me in my cell?”

“I’m going to help you escape…”

“Get out!” Pan turned to face Brynn. “And, don’t come back. I’m not your puppet. No matter how much you threaten me.” Pan stood and shooed the ghost. “I’m not going anywhere with you anymore. You’re dead. You don’t give me orders. We. Are. Done.” Pan made a cutting motion through the air.

Brynn didn’t answer. She wore an expression of shock, with some emotion that Pan couldn’t quite place. It didn’t really interest her.

“You know what you are?” Pan continued. “You’re the focus for everything about this whole self-imposed exile that is wrong with me. Loneliness. Lack of fulfillment. If I stay with you, I’ll become like you. I should have let you throw me down the ladder that first night you came back.”

“I would never have thrown you down the ladder.”

Pan laughed. “Really? You were convincing then.”

“You’re just mad. You have that temper. You always will.” Brynn’s ghost fingered its spectral staff.

Pan glared. “That’s true. I’m mad, but for good reason.”

Brynn looked away. “There are still things we have to do. You can’t just give up now.”

Pan spread her hands. “Give up on what?”

Brynn frowned.

Pan sat down. “Whatever you want, I probably won’t do it.” She shook her head. “Just go. There’s no point in any of this anymore.”

“There’s still a point. I’ll see you when you’ve calmed down. Survive till then.” Brynn shot through the ceiling.

Pan curled up. She’d expected Brynn to harm her right then and there, but Brynn acted much too logical. Pan didn’t like Brynn’s tone, and she especially didn’t like Brynn’s promise.

Best to be rid of a ghost like that. Pan let out a long breath.

She worried about Irini and Aria. She’d been the only one not in need of medical assistance. Alban’s crew had fitted Pan with a shock bracelet, checked her over, and then stuck her in the cell. Aria and Irini got taken to the infirmary, hopefully minus shock bracelets. What could they do really? Tell some angry-eyed officer what he was feeling? Find that lost sock in the laundry? For the moment, Aria and Irini posed no threat.

Pan sat for a while longer. She hoped they would give her a long time to herself. She wished they’d left her some paper and pencil, but if Pan really considered the situation, she didn’t think she would find the energy to form the lines.

The outer door to her cellblock twisted and swung open. Pan heard it, but she didn’t see it. Steps came closer, and Pan knew she had a visitor.

A drawer near Pan slid open, and food came through. She uncurled a bit and stared. The food steamed. It was white and creamy, with bits of vegetable inside. It smelt alright, but Pan didn’t know what it was. She left it.

Her door, once opaque, turned clear. Alban stood there, looking grim and very suspicious. Beside him stood Sotir.

Pan turned away.

“It’s not poisonous,” Alban said. “You can eat it.”

Pan just shook her head. After Alban’s assurance, she had no intention to try it.

“Let’s talk.” Alban’s voice came through an intercom. It sounded tinny and strange.

Pan would rather Sotir speak. His voice would sound strange too, but Pan preferred it. To her dismay, it seemed Sotir only came along to observe.

Over her shoulder, Pan called, “I’m supposed to let Aria do the talking.”

Alban sighed. “Well, then just listen. Aria and Irini both have head injuries, fairly minor, but they have them just the same. You can blame yourself for that.”

Pan could feel Alban and Sotir’s eyes on her. She didn’t look.

Alban continued, “They wouldn’t be out here looking for you if you didn’t commit acts of unsanctioned violence.”

Pan didn’t turn around. If you didn’t shoot the tug, we’d all be fine and on our way.

“I’ve impounded your ship. Obviously, we’re not going to repair it. It’ll be easier to keep you here if your beloved tug isn’t available. Even if you escape the cell, you won’t escape my ship without the tug. You don’t fly that well. And, I fully anticipate an escape attempt from you.”

Good, thought Pan. I hope you lose sleep over it. You’ll be waiting forever.

Alban paused. He really expected her to say something to that? Maybe, he just wanted to get his next lines in order.

Alban said, “I know you didn’t want to hurt the other arcanes, but you did hurt them. Three very young arcanes I might add. Remember the fire starter you impaled? The telekinetic you burned? And, the fabric warper you knocked out?”

Pan remembered them. She had hoped they would just disappear from her conscience. Now, she hoped that Alban would tell her more. What were their exact injuries? Would they have long term repercussions? Any hard feelings? Pan remained silent.

Though her questions went unasked, Alban obliged her with answers. “They’re recovering. We’ve managed to patch up the fire starter, minimal scarring. The telekinetic needs special attention to treat her scars. The fabric warper is back on his feet, and I’ve sent all three home.”

Pan took a quiet breath. “Were they on a training exercise?”

Alban paused, maybe surprised.

“Yes, they were,” Sotir answered.

Pan turned and looked at Sotir. “No, older arcanes? Just you?”

Sotir nodded. “That’s right. I warned them to let you go and to let me handle it. They were a bit rash.”

“Yes,” Alban agreed. He sounded unsure.

Pan sat on the edge of her bed and leaned forward. “You know...I defeated all three by using their own powers against them. The burns weren’t from my abilities. I’m not a fire starter. The impalement came from the other telekinetic. The fabric warper bumped his head on his own mess.” Pan shrugged. “You attempted to capture me with people like them aboard. You let them come face to face with me. Both of you. What were you thinking?”

Sotir met Pan’s gaze, but he didn’t answer.

Alban opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He stared at Pan, with narrowed eyes. Finally, he came up with something. “Of course, I attempted to capture you. You created a portal right on to my bridge. We were the only ship in the area, able to answer the Soffigen distress call. I was staring right at you. I had to do something.”

“You seemed kind of desperate, sending untrained arcanes after me.”

Alban jabbed a thumb at Sotir. “I sent him after you. Those young arcanes begged to follow. It was my poor judgement to let them do so.”

“Mine as well,” Sotir added.

Pan cocked her head. “Not so noble after all. You never have been.” Pan wondered how much gold Aria would see in their auras, probably no more than she found in Pan’s, which Pan felt couldn’t be much.

Alban sort of smiled. “I never claimed to be noble. I only claimed to act as the situation dictated.”

True, Pan admitted.

She looked to Sotir. She expected an answer from him, but Sotir remained silent. Some emotion lay deep in his eyes, but again, Pan couldn’t place it.

She studied him. Sotir was only a bit taller than the average man. He still didn’t reach Alban’s height. He had a tapered build, black hair, and, of course, his gentle features. The more Pan looked at him, the more she realized that he was...

“Something to say?” Alban asked.

Pan forgot what she was about to think. She breathed out her frustration. “When are you going to give it to me?”

“Excuse me?”

“The poison. The suppressant. Can I choose something else instead?” Pan averted her eyes and tucked her chin to her shoulder. In her distant past, she’d often wished for powerlessness, but faced with the real possibility, she found she hadn’t meant it. Pan wanted to be arcane.

“We’re not going to poison you. The cuff seems sufficient. And, I’m certainly not going to execute you. We’re going home.” Alban turned to go.

“I shouldn’t,” Pan called.

He turned back. “Shouldn’t? Shouldn’t what?”

“Go home,” Pan said.

“Why is that?”

“I don’t belong there.”

“You want to help us with the Soffigen? We can find something for you. Trust me.” Again, Alban turned to go. He paused and put a hand on Sotir’s shoulder. “You’ll be alright with her?”

Sotir nodded. “Yes.”

“Leave her inside.”

Sotir raised his eyebrows. “I’m not going to take her out, but I might go in.”

Now, Alban raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I have a little self-defense training, and when she wears that cuff, I’m stronger and bigger. She can’t use her hard powers, just the soft. She won’t be able to hurt me.” Sotir wore the hint of a smile. “Without telekinesis and portal making, she’s just a frail artist.

Alban smiled. “Good point.” He clapped Sotir on the shoulder. “Good luck.” Alban walked away.

Pan’s heart beat fast. She was alone with Sotir. She could think of no situation more awkward. Her cheeks burned. First, she’d make him answer for that frail artist comment.

Sotir pointed at the door. “I’m going to come in.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Pan said.

Sotir hit buttons on a keypad. “I’m sure. You’re rather afraid of me.” The door slid open, and Sotir stepped inside.

Pan pressed herself back against the wall. What could he possibly do to her?

Sotir approached the bed and sat on the edge. He fought a smile. “I don’t bite. I might…”

Pan held up a hand. “Careful what you say. They can probably hear everything.”

They’d probably heard her angry conversation with Brynn. Great. Pan probably seemed crazy to whoever had been listening.

Sotir sat straight. He held his staff between his knees. “Aria got a bad bump on the head, but when I talked to her, she said something about Brynn’s ghost. Brynn’s ghost made you do it.”

Good old Aria. She’ll say the right things even when she can’t see straight.

“That’s right,” Pan said. “But, I probably could have tried harder to resist. I thought Brynn could hurt me if I didn’t comply. I’m not so sure now.”

Sotir watched Pan. “I can’t check on that claim right away. I’m a bit tired.” He nodded at Pan. “I’ve been chasing you.”

Pan stared into space. “Well, you caught me.”

“Yes, I did, and just in time.” Sotir leaned close to Pan.

Her eyes moved to his face, and she waited. Pan almost closed her eyes.

“I need to ask you a couple of questions.”

Pan’s lids fixed themselves open. “What?”

Sotir still smiled at her. “I’ve been wondering, what is that power you picked up from Kallitech?”

Pan shifted to the side, trying to move away. She didn’t have a lot of room to back up. “That’s a secret. I can’t tell just anybody.” Pan put a finger to her lips.

Sotir straightened. “Well, I have some idea. I’ve done a pretty thorough read on the fight between you and Brynn. The new power has something to do with time, but I can’t quite figure it out. It’s like I’m missing some pieces.”

Yeah, you can’t read the times that didn’t happen – the times I messaged away. Pan tried to remember all the times she’d died in that fight. She only had a vague impression of each one. The clearest remained the time when she got crushed under a sarcophagus lid. That one faded like a bad dream.

Sotir looked across the room and waited.

Pan still didn’t answer.

Sotir sighed. “Not talking? We can change the subject. Maybe, you’ll like this one better. What did you do with the message I wrote you? The one you got out of the trap box?”

Pan felt her face grow warm. Her heart pounded. He knew she took the marriage message. She had it on her tug, tucked away in some secret place.

“I…forgot to put it back in the box. It’s…”

“It’s alright. We can change the subject again. I was just curious.” Sotir bowed his head.

Pan touched her face. “That was cheeky of you.”

Sotir smiled a little.

A knock sounded on Pan’s cell door. Pan jumped. Sotir didn’t.

“Your friend the aura reader is asking for you,” an officer said.

Sotir nodded. “I’ll be right out.” He stared at the officer, until the woman left. Slowly, Sotir rose. “I’ve got to go check on Aria. I’ll be back.” He bent down and gave Pan a short kiss on the cheek.

As Sotir left the cell, he transformed the clear door back to its opaque state.

Pan touched her cheek where his lips had been. He liked her still, and she liked him. Of course, they were both still arcane, and she was still a criminal.

Although, Alban implied, she might just get away with it – so long as she helped against the Soffigen. Did he and the other Scaldin offer a ticket to freedom? Should she take it? Did she deserve it?

It didn’t matter because Pan would take any ticket to freedom. She could live with guilt. She could work that guilt out in every way she shouldn’t, preferably on the Soffigen. She’d do all the things that wouldn’t surprise Aria.

Gold – it’s an impossible standard to reach.

Pan looked back at her door. She looked forward to Sotir’s return. She was dying to see what he would do next.

Pan’s stomach growled. The food remained on its tray in the pass-through slot. She eyed it. She knew nothing about this suppressant. Could it be infused into food? She feared it. Pan turned away.