Kinsley summed it up, though I was still having difficulty processing. There were enough people in the know that my little display was seen as more miraculous than suspicious. Most people in leadership, who spent a greater deal of time with the system knew there was a great deal of fuckery afoot—things that happened beyond our understanding, and a variety of ways the established rules could be trumped or altered. Albeit morbid, another aspect that was helping divert suspicion within the region was the natural comparison to the fate of our neighboring region. Region 13 had lost nearly half of its civilians, ownership handed to a jeans and t-shirt type that called himself the prophet. When you contrasted the two, most people within Region 14 were just thrilled to be alive.

“None of them knew you from Adam,” Kinsley said, a serious expression on her face. “But they sure as hell know you now. They saw you take the beating of a lifetime for them. Civilians and Users alike. People don’t forget that shit.”

The beating didn’t surprise me, more the fact that I was alive at all. I’d assumed that once the proctor arrived, the damage doled out to me would be undone, but from what the healer said, that was utterly wrong. Maybe if I’d been on the cusp of dying, they would have intervened, but as long as I didn’t die, they’d fulfilled their requirements.

I wheeled myself through the kitchen as Kinsley talked, doing my absolute best not to be gawk at the blatant opulence. The kitchen alone was nearly twice the size of my old apartment. Any concern I’d held about navigating the chair through tight corridors quickly vanished. It was freshly painted, furnished with more white cabinets and pantry space than I could imagine what to do with. Across from the open-plan kitchen was the den, a wide, minimalistic space with a dark hardwood table framed by several leather couches and recliners, accented by a TV that looked too wide to fit in my room back home.

Scanning back to the kitchen, my focus was immediately drawn to the coffee maker and espresso machine. I didn’t recognize the brands, but both machines were stainless-steel and high-tech enough that they may as well have had the word ”Expensive” embossed on their exterior.

“… Anyway, like I said. After seeing what went down in region 13, most people here are understandably nervous. A few have been very loud about wanting to know your intentions, but considering the breadth of your injuries, they’ve been shouted down. That reprieve is probably temporary.”

“Did you brew a pot, already? Or was that someone else?” I asked Kinsley.

“I did,” Kinsley said, only half paying attention.

I opened one cupboard, finding a stack of white plates, then another that had a tacky assortment of wine glasses. “Okay, I give. Where are the coffee cups?”

“Top left—I’ll get them.” Kinsley grabbed a folding stool from the pantry. As she climbed to the top of it and retrieved a simple white mug, she shot me a questioning look. “Are you, uh, listening to anything I’m saying right now?”

I was staring at the den. The far wall was all window, extending the length of the far side of the apartment. It gave a fantastic view. In and out. “This place isn’t going to work long term.”

Kinsley deflated somewhat. “Oh. Well, it was only one of several options. The building’s owner was very accommodating. There used to be a year-long waiting list for this place, but there’s been plenty of vacancies since the system came into being, and even more since the transposition. The Penthouse floor has its own elevator and the rooms are spaced out—I know how you are about privacy. Really thought you’d like it.” She handed me the cup. I filled it and put the cup to my lips, tilting it back. I choked, nearly coughing and spitting it out. The taste was rich and dark, with the perfect level of acidity.

“It’s fine. More than fine. And you’re right on the privacy count. But the windows are a problem. Especially if people are flying around. And I’m still not sure if living in this region is a good idea.”

“First bit is an easy fix.” Kinsley walked around the loft until she found what she was looking for. A black remote with a plethora of buttons. She tossed it to me. “Press W2”

I caught it easily with one hand and scanned the face. Thankfully, the buttons were arranged alphabetically. I pressed the button down, and jumped at the resulting mechanical grind as a curtain of metal shutters descended from the exterior top of the window, extending downward until it reached the floor, banishing all ambient light.

“Ah.” I said, mostly speechless.

“Regarding the second bit.” Kinsley held her arms behind her back. “The Adventurer’s Guild seems to think it would be a good idea if we all relocated here. Me, and any members of the merchant’s guild.”

Meaning my family and whoever else Kinsley had picked up in the interim. I was of two minds. From one perspective, this was exactly the type of life I’d always wanted them to have. Just living here would put Iris and Ellison in a far better school district, if school ever started again. The building itself was excessive. But when I considered it through a more cautious lens, it was a terrible idea.

“And if the suits come for us? We’ll just make it easier for them by being in one place. Not to mention, we’re completely at the mercy of the Adventurer’s Guild, if they’re the ones pulling the strings here.”

“I thought about that,” Kinsley glanced away, “Which is why a condition for my tentative cooperation was Roderick’s Lodge being part of operations here. And I don’t necessarily agree that us being together in one place makes it easier for the suits. With what little we know about how they operate, spreading out only really works if they don’t know where any of us are. If they find one of us, they’ll absolutely use them to leverage against the rest.”

Though the idea of bringing the lodge downtown with us sat poorly with me, I understood the intent. As far as I knew, the only connection between the Adventurer’s Guild and Roderick’s Lodge was Kinsley and the Merchant’s Guild. Bringing in a third party would prevent the Adventurer’s Guild from leveraging us, much the same way Guilds had leveraged merchants since the system’s proliferation. Not that they would, necessarily, but I was done taking chances.

Still, Kinsley had done well. She hadn’t let anyone maneuver her into a corner, hadn’t made any bad calls apart from possibly revealing herself too early. She’d saved my life more than once, along with countless others, and helped protect my family in region 2 while I was gone.

It went against my nature to be completely honest. Some lies are important. Some keep us grounded, make it possible to carry-on, even if in the face of something horrible. But I’d realized a long time ago that I couldn’t keep this up forever. This web was only going to get more complicated, even more so now that my civilian identity was no longer anonymous.

I needed a touchstone. And Kinsley was a good choice. She was smart, it would be difficult to buy off considering the extent of her resources after the transposition, and most importantly, I knew her motivation. As long as Kinsley’s Father was alive, tied up within the system, she wouldn’t be tempted to leave. All of which made her mostly impervious to what the Overseer was offering for my head.

“Anyway, you should look over the region—why are you looking at me like that?” Kinsley stopped mid-sentence, suddenly appearing small. “Is it… uh… time?”

Fighting an internal voice that screamed at me to stop, I double-checked to ensure Iris was still sleeping. Satisfied with the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath the blanket, I slid the door shut. Then turned back to Kinsley and pointed to the couch. “Probably better if you sit down.”

/////

Against my better judgment, I told her everything. From my awakening, to what had happened in region 6, to the scuffle with the adventurer’s guild. I saved what had happened with Vernon for last, sparing no detail.

Halfway through the story, tears streaked down Kinsley’s face. She didn’t sob. If anything, her face was a mask of barely suppressed rage. When she finally spoke, her voice was pitched low. “I have one question. Have you ever used Suggestion on me? To make me change my mind, or affect my view of you?”

“No,” I said.

“Swear it. On your family.” Kinsley insisted, barely holding it together.

“I swear,” I said. I wasn’t going to point out that if I had been consistently manipulating her, it was the last thing I’d admit to.

But Kinsley was already moving on. “God fucking dammit. Those monsters.”

I reached out to touch her shoulder, then let my hand drop. “I wanted to tell him. That you were alive. But I didn’t know how he’d react.”

Kinsley snapped suddenly, “And I’m sure your dead friend didn’t factor in keeping the necromancer research going, at all.”

There was a gentle ping of an elevator in the distance. I held my silence.

She wiped her eyes. “Fuck. I can’t even be mad that you did it because it was the right call.”

“It was?” I asked cautiously.

“Yeah. I uh…” Kinsley cleared her throat. “… Mom wanted to look into alternative medicine before she died. Being a responsible medical professional, Dad was against it. Until the traditional stuff didn’t work, and she died anyway. He really did hate himself. For not doing more. Made all these cloaked comments, about how he’d be there for as long as I needed him, and how I was the only thing keeping him going.”

“Vernon was suicidal. Or at least thinking about ending it,” I realized.

“If he was asking you to kill him, he’s probably regressed to the same place. Just hanging on until he manages to “bring me back,” or at least gets confirmation that it’s not possible. When he finds out I’m alive, it needs to be in a controlled situation where he can’t hurt himself.” Kinsley rested her forehead on both hands, then dragged them down her face until they covered her mouth in horror. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“Shit! Matt!” She stood and paced frantically, “My name’s been blowing up all over the city. People have been talking about me, my market. If dad overhears something—“

I held up a hand, cutting her off. “Suits won’t let that happen. They’re more proactive and organized than any group that we’ve come across. They’re probably already aware of the potential issue and are making sure their necromancer is fire-walled.”

Kinsley collapsed back on the couch. “That’s true. God, I hope you’re right. But we can’t leave him with them long-term. Your friend as well. That shit with the court is spooking me, for some reason.”

“If the rest of the court is anything like Nick, it’d be idiotic not to be spooked.” I agreed. “That’s a lot of power in the wrong hands. Assuming most of them aren’t there voluntarily.”

“So… how the hell do we get our people out?” Kinsley voiced the question I’d spent a great deal of time thinking on. “My dad, and your friend.”

I had an answer, but was hesitant to share it. “You sure you want in on this? Don’t get me wrong, it would be easier with your help, but it wouldn’t be entirely unreasonable for you to take a hands-off approach.”

Kinsley fixed me with a glare. “In for a penny, in for a pound, motherfucker. I already know you’re the Ordinator—which, considering your abilities even now, would probably scare the shit out of me if I didn’t already understand you to some extent. I’m in this.”

I found myself lost in thought. “The Adventurer’s Guild already has a bone to pick with Myrddin. If more info about the Ordinator comes out, he’ll be an even higher priority target.”

“You’re planning to join the suits, right? Won’t that put you in jeopardy if it does come out that Myrddin is the Ordinator?” Kinsley looked worried.

I tapped the handle of my wheelchair. “They seem more interested in collecting power and unique Users than killing them. Your father being a prime example. My initial read is that it’ll only increase my worth—like everyone else, they saw the footage the overseer played at the beginning of the transposition, detailing what an end-game Ordinator can do. They’ll want that. It’s possible some Users might still take an unauthorized shot at me, but thinking about it, that’s probably less likely to happen with the suits than any other organization.”

“And if it does come out, the Adventurer’s Guild will suddenly be far more motivated to take on the suits.” Kinsley sat up straight.

“Which is a conflict we need to delay as much as possible. The Adventurer’s Guild struggled a lot during the transposition. They’re not ready for open-conflict with the suits. Not even close.” I said slowly, finally voicing ideas that had been rattling around in my head for days. “We guide them, make sure they’re as high-level and kitted out as possible. Snag a few key alliances where we can, riding on the coattails of your well-deserved popularity. All-the-while stoking the flames between the two groups, as I feel out the enemy for weaknesses and things we can exploit, and sandbag them from within.”

“That’s… remarkably underhanded. Even for you.”

I shrugged. “Just playing the cards I’m dealt.”

Kinsley shook her head. “No. You’re too good at taking this shit in stride. Too quick to connect the dots. I get the feeling some part of you has always been waiting to play this game, even not knowing what it was. If I wanted to be completely cynical, I’d wager that even telling me this much is calculated.”

Absorbing that, I kept my face blank. “How so?”

“Because our motives align. Almost perfectly, compared to anyone else. There’s no way I’m leaving this game without my father.”

I sipped my coffee. “You’re right. That is cynical.”

Kinsley rolled her eyes and walked across the room to the espresso machine, plugging inputs into the machine like she’d been using it all her life. “What about Ellison?”

“Not sure. If we do decide to move my family here, I’d want him on a different floor than Mom and Iris. Somewhere he can be monitored.

“Fair enough. I can make that happen if we go that route. And Sae?” Kinsley asked.

The name hit me like a wave, even though I was the one to tell Kinsley about her. She’d been on my mind ever since I’d woken up, the violet notification light on the quest log a silent mockery. “How long do we have before the meeting with the Adventurer’s Guild and the Region 14 people?”

“Early evening. They just said to notify them whenever you woke up.”

“Mind driving me somewhere?”

Even as Kinsley muttered an affirmative, I took a deep breath and finally pulled up the log.

Quest: Helpline.