“Mr. Donner, tell me about a time when miscommunication caused a problem, and how you handled it.”

  “One time a guy gave me the wrong credentials for the dev environment. I didn’t want to bother him, so I cracked his password manager.”

  “Evening, gentlemen.”

  Brick sat down at the table across from the two thieves. They were at a seedy level 7 bar, far from the glamour of the big casino strips. His suit was immaculate. Mantis slunk into a chair beside him. Her dress was elegant, but she didn’t make any pretense at refinement. She watched their prospective recruits boredly, like a cat watching fish in a tank.

  “Hello,” said the wiry thief with a toothy smile. Then his eyes widened in recognition, and his smile faded. He nudged his partner. “Blackout. Blackout, we should leave.”

  The stockier thief stroked his goatee for a moment before he, too, came to the same realization. “Shit!”

  “Sit down,” Brick growled. Mantis waved pleasantly at them. “You won’t get the Mantis treatment for turning down the offer, but not hearing us out? Now, that’s just rude. Sit a spell. You’re making the lady nervous.”

  Damn. From his own mouth. He’d used his size and gruffness to intimidate his way through situations before. Once or twice he’d even used it to Latrice’s benefit, chasing off a clingy ex while they were still dating. But this was some crime boss bullshit. It was frightening how naturally it came to him. How part of him enjoyed watching these two rejects squirm.

  Mantis yawned and pointed at the skinny thief, who flinched. “I can see temperature, by the way. Means I can still see people who go invisible with illusion aether. Just thought you’d like to know.”

  The skinny thief—Whisper was his handle, Brick believed—went pale, but he leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “W-we don’t want any trouble.”

  “Do you want money?” Brick asked. He set two stacks of bills on the table. “Five hundred thousand minari. Each. That’s the down payment.”

  “For what?” asked Blackout cautiously.

  “For being on retainer for us for a couple of months. No direct combat, not that we’re planning. You’re to help us with stealth and extraction during our jobs, and you’re to help us case out our primary target. You have the right skillsets, I believe?”

  “Uh, yeah,” said Whisper. “I have personal stealth, agility, heightened senses. So I’m the scout.”

  Blackout nodded. “I primarily project two fields. Obscurity. Not as good as invisibility, but it covers an area. And aether dampening. It’ll reduce the strength of any aether skill that enters it. If a sorcerer is inside it also reduces their output, and I can selectively disable the effect by person. Both are static and don’t move with me, and it takes a few seconds to set them each time.”

  “That sounds about right,” said Mantis.

  “What’s the primary target?” asked Whisper.

  Brick smirked. “G-Tech headquarters.”

  “Shit,” he breathed. “I don’t… I don’t know. They’re bound to have people who can detect me. Th-that guy, Rusk, the runecrafter. He’s probably got the whole place warded on top of their security tech.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you won’t have to get in close for now. We want external defenses and comings and goings mapped out. Exhaustively, but that’s all.”

  “W-what’s, um…” Blackout licked his lips. “This is a good upfront payment, don’t get me wrong, but what’s the ongoing?”

  “Another hundred thousand minari a week each,” said Brick. “Ten million each if we complete our primary objective.”

  Blackout whistled.

  “Okay,” said Whisper. “That's great. But—and I'm really sorry—but what about her? We've heard what she does. To men, especially. How do we know she won't, you know, kill us?”

  Brick leaned in and, for a moment, spoke with unmasked frankness.

  “I'm still alive, aren't I?”

  “That’s why I’m here. I want to be there for the next kid.”

  Isabel Marin cursed as she scrubbed the video backwards, listening to the line again.

  “That’s why I’m here. I want to be there for the next kid.”

  It was a masterstroke. Castillo was a Shones-damned genius. And good on Fulgen’s boy too, for pulling that off. He’d been relaxed, he’d been funny at appropriate moments in his particular obnoxious way, he’d buckled down and squeezed out the hard parts with pain in his voice. There had even been that little “I knew him when” bit about Chris. Gold.

  The interview had gone viral. #TheNextKid was trending. People were starting to whisper about G-Tech’s up-and-coming talent.

  That was the problem.

  It was time. Marin pressed a button under her desk, locking the doors, engaging soundproofing, and shuttering her windows. Her office was now possibly the most secure place in the entire building besides the Black Box itself. It was just barely able to send and receive what was needed for this meeting.

  The red light was flashing on one of her monitors. She clicked it and, without preamble, leaned back in her chair and said, “You assholes see Deep Dive last night?”

  “Good morning to you too, Marin. Yes, we have seen the interview. It was quite compelling television.”

  Marin took out her golden fountain pen and began rolling it between her hands. “Right, so I just wanted to make an observation. I have two Garrison sorcerers running amok, and one of them is an ice sorcerer who is growing in power by the day, and who can’t get through a robbery without leaving at least one body. I also have a powerful fire sorcerer on my payroll with a Shones-damned heart of gold who’s showing a lot of promise. Maybe you see where I’m going with this?”

  “Why not send Dante?”

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  “First, because half his team is liable to stop to take a selfie during the fight. Second, because he’s a tactical fighter and can’t tank that kind of ice aether. None of our sorcerers are built to get into a pissing match with that monster. I don't know what the hell Mantis is supposed to be, but ‘diet Guardian’ comes to mind. She's got devastating stopping power. She clearly has regen. Chris thinks she may even have Ice Absorption like him. It's almost like the only thing that can stop her is a Guardian. But the only one I can send at her right now has to try to subdue her with his sword or fists.”

  “We’d be playing right into their hands if we sent Fulgen after them. They obviously can’t raid HQ, so they’re trying to draw him out. Your orders are unchanged. And as always, if anything comes to light, this is to be presented as your policy.”

  Marin sighed. “I’ll pass it along. But we can’t keep this going forever. The kid has worth, people, and he’s starting to realize it.”

  “I can’t wait to see what comes next for you.”

  That was one of the last things Lys Corwin said at the conclusion of my interview.

  I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said something like that about me.

  At Catalina’s direction, we’d played down the most painful part of my story: what I’d actually said to my mother. That wasn’t for the world to hear, and I was grateful Catalina agreed. Instead, I said that in my terror I had “accidentally” made a sound that had alerted the militant group. As Catalina said, it was the truth, just in the best light.

  Now, my last statement, about wanting to be there for “the next kid?” That one we’d milked like we were squeezing out liquid gold. That was uncomfortable. We didn’t quite market it like a slogan, but it was damn close. To her credit, Catalina let me push back—and acknowledged that it was a hard balance, showing me as a person while keeping certain things personal to me.

  I was still mulling over the interview and replaying moments in my head as I got ready for the day, so I nearly jumped out of my skin when I opened the bathroom door to see Chris Eisner standing there.

  “Hello, Jett,” he said.

  Wally stood off to the side, looking uncomfortable. “He came looking for you,” was all he said.

  “Oh, hey Chris,” I said. “Long time no see. I take it this is about the interview? I workshopped the way I talked about you with Catalina, and we felt—”

  “No worries,” Chris said, clapping me on the shoulder. It had a lot of that same stiff awkwardness I remembered. “No, I don’t feel like you made me look bad, if that’s what you’re worried about. Besides, your point was clear, and you’re right.” He tapped the azure jewel on his chest. “If only we’d identified this damn amulet and linked it to me a few years earlier. I loved Alex and Serafina dearly, and the Faxtons. They saved my life, you know. I wish I’d been strong enough to save theirs when they needed it.”

  “Wait… they saved you?” My parents had hinted they’d helped Chris out of a low place, for sure, but they never gave details. I figured he was just homeless or something.

  “Oh yes.” Chris nodded gravely. “Alex Fulgen and Reginald Faxton were on an artifact hunting expedition to the Southern Continent many years ago. I have a strong suspicion that trip was also how they came in possession of—” He pointed between my amulet and his.

  “And you went along?”

  “Went along?” He chuckled. “No, that’s how they found me. Though I uh, don’t exactly remember why I was there. To this day.” He tapped the side of his head. “I suppose this is the first time you’re learning about that too. I’d had an accident while climbing an ice wall. I was in hypothermia. Had already stopped breathing. Pure fortune they found me when they did. But I don’t remember anything from before that day. Not even a glimmer.”

  I just stared at the older man, mouth agape. “But… our regeneration heals old scars, right? It didn’t cure your amnesia?”

  Chris shrugged. “Maybe, in my case, it’s better this way. They found some suspicious papers among my belongings. From what they pieced together, it looks like I was formerly a member of the Ironwake Consortium.”

  “Oh. Damn.” I’d heard of them before. They were essentially modern day pirates. In particular, they liked to prey on artifact hunters.

  Chris nodded gravely. “There’s a decent chance I was meant to be your father’s enemy. That I was there either to beat him to his prize or to set a trap for after he collected it. Fate had something different in mind.

  “As for my memory, Crystal’s theory is that the amulet is protecting me by keeping my past hidden. Keeping me from remembering the things I did before. The things that drove me. There’s almost no record of my existence from before that time, so I must have been in with the Consortium for a long time. No family or friends have ever come looking for me, despite Alex and Reginald putting the call out.”

  I nodded. Suddenly it made even more sense. How he was always hanging around either Jessie’s family or mine. How he never mentioned any connections of his own. How he’d become our unofficial uncle. “That’s rough.”

  “I’ve made peace with it. I got a clean slate to an extent few others can hope for.”

  “Yeah,” I said ruefully. “Is it weird that I’m a bit jealous?”

  He gave me a small smile. “You have memories of love, Jett Fulgen. And I think you’ve plucked something important from that dark day. Speaking of which, come with me. There’s something I want to show you.”

  I had a pretty good idea what that meant, and I wasn’t surprised as we emerged from the barracks and into the atrium.

  “Holy Shones,” Wally breathed.

  A handful of G-Tech’s sorcerers and liaisons were gathered around the large fountain at the center of the space. Most of Team Snowcrest waited there, including Jessie. As we approached, they started to applaud. It was a stunning sight, even though I couldn’t help but notice my “anti” crowd had segregated themselves and, while they weren’t glaring at me like they wished they could stab me, their reaction was much more subdued.

  “Uh… thank you, everyone,” I said with a wave. As I stepped closer, I noticed the ice sculpture atop the fountain, and I gasped.

  Chris was quite enamored with the original Guardians, even considering the dark legacy of his own predecessor. Odds are, the first sight a visitor to G-Tech would see as they walked in the door would be an imposing warrior in ornate armor, striking a dramatic battle pose with their sword held high. The sculpture would typically depict Cryos. Or Issa, which was probably a recent development. Or Cryos and Issa, or one of the other ten guardians. Today, Chris had gone in a different direction.

  The sculpture was of a young man. No armor, though even in icy monochrome the outfit had the unmistakable look of a G-Tech uniform. It was me, my untamable hair nearly falling over my eyes. I wasn’t standing proud like a god of old. I was hunched over, on one knee. There were rips in my clothing and cuts on my skin. My teeth were gritted in defiance, and I raised an immolated hand against some unseen threat.

  Beneath me was another figure, small and afraid. It was a child. They had no face, which felt significant, deliberate. They could be anyone. They were clinging to me. I was shielding them from harm with my own body.

  I was gazing at a vision of myself. Not as a glorified hero, but as the exact person I wanted to be. Pain and desperation were etched into my face using facets of ice. It was… beautiful.

  I glanced over at Chris, whose eyes were shining as I felt my own tears start to run. “Shones, Chris,” I said hoarsely.

  He patted me on the shoulder. Then, after a moment of clear indecision, he pulled me into an awkward hug. “I was inspired,” he said. “I call it ‘The Next Kid.’”

  Habby appeared and studied the sculpture with wide, shiny black eyes. [It’s magnificent. Understated, raw. I must admit, I’ve found most of his other sculptures garish. Perhaps because they remind me of Cryos. But this. This is the first time I can honestly say he’s made art.]

  “My lecti likes it too,” I said.

  “Well, give him my thanks.”

  I was then pulled into another hug, and it took me a stunned moment to realize it was Jessie. She had never voluntarily showed me affection in my life. I vividly remembered a few times as a kid when my family had visited her family’s mansion. There’d been forced goodbye hugs that had all the natural friendliness of a three-year-old girl squishing her dolls together.

  This was something else.

  She stepped back and studied me for a moment. “Well, you were right,” she said, “That was a big deal. It was brave, and I’m sure it was very difficult. Congratulations, Jett. You deserve it.”

  “Uh… thanks.” I shuffled, not quite sure how to act.

  Jessie considered a moment, shooting a glance at Chris. “The only thing is, I’m not sure if—”

  At that moment I was tackle-hugged by Fu. I don’t know if she was intentionally ruining the moment, or if it was just a reflex.

  “That’s my Fireman!” she said.

  My. Uh-oh.

  “Save all the babies, dude! I know you can do it!”