Unbroken

Brennan finally cleared his throat and entered the room; he was no fool, in that he took up a point out of the line of fire, and equidistant from us both. “So you two know each other.”

“After a fashion,” Pearl said. “Many years ago. But we have been… out of touch. Isn’t that right?”

I didn’t answer her. I was considering options, and none of them were good; Luis was getting stronger again as he rested, but it would take time for him to be up to full strength and, even then, taking on Pearl meant taking on her four child-followers. She wouldn’t be here, in flesh, unless they were her best possible bodyguards, which meant they would be hideously strong and—no doubt—impossible to persuade of her real motivations. True believers were always the most dangerous, and children were more dangerous than most.

I finally said, “Yes, we’ve been out of touch. I confess, I preferred it that way, Pearl.”

“Shinju,” she said, and pressed a delicate hand to her chest. “My name is Shinju now.”

“Still Pearl, just translated into a different language,” I said. “Don’t play games.”

“I’m not. We have common foes, my sister. I’m here to help, with my children.”

“They’re not yours,” I shot back. “They have families, and they were taken from them.”

“These? No. These children came willingly. Their parents wanted them safe and protected, trained and nurtured. And I have done this, as you have with Isabel.” Her eyes were dark, and so was what dwelled in them. “This is Pamela. At the age of four, she was able to start fires with her mind, but she didn’t understand what she was doing; there were accidents, tragedies. Her family gave her up so that she might learn how to protect herself and those around her.” The girl looked up from the plate of unnaturally golden macaroni and cheese in front of her, and gave me a look that was eerily identical to Pearl’s; there was no real feeling in it, only assessment.

Pearl put her hand on the other girl’s shoulder now, and she straightened in evident pride. “Edie was medicated to stop her from tantrums,” she said. “But she didn’t need medication; she needed only reassurance and training in her craft. Weather, you see. Like Mr. Brennan. She can create a drop of water or a storm with equal ease. I’m sure you appreciate how valuable that skill can be to us now, in these dangerous times.”

“The kids are amazingly powerful,” Brennan said. “Let’s face it—we need every hand at the wheel right now. It’s not like we’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell as it stands without them.” He couldn’t mean it, not entirely; there was something about Pearl—Shinju—that radiated darkness, and he had to feel that, no matter how desperate the need… didn’t he? “The good thing is that they’ve committed to guarding our position here. As defenses go, they’re about as good as we can possibly have.”

“But they’re not being sent to rescue your Wardens trapped in the tunnels,” I said. “I find it curious that they’re so powerful yet unable to do such a simple thing.”

“You can’t expect me to risk these children,” Pearl said, raising her delicate eyebrows. “I must protect them at all costs, mustn’t I? Isn’t that what any responsible adult would do? What you would do?”

Protect. The hypocrisy of the word coming from her lips made me so angry that for a moment all I could see was the red sheer curtain of blood, and her face smiling through it; I felt power surging inside me, hungry for release. She was mocking me, mocking us all. Pearl had no interest in the welfare of her children; they were tools, to be honed, used, broken, and replaced. She’d treated Isabel no better, and she’d gladly take possession of her again just to use and break her again.

It occurred to me, with an unpleasant shock, that Pearl could have gone anywhere, shown up in any Warden encampment, and been welcomed with open arms… but she’d come here. To Seattle. She’d tracked me and anticipated where I would go.

She wanted Isabel back.

“No,” I said aloud.

Her eyebrow slanted up in elegant mockery. “I should not protect them? Is that what you mean, sister? Shall I leave these poor children to the mercy of the world, to those who fear and hate them? Do you imagine their lives would be better? Their families were terrified of them. The human world had no answer for it. The Wardens turned their backs, saying they were too young. Only I could step in and keep them safe. How could I have done otherwise?”

The utter self-serving mockery turned my stomach. The children might believe it—I was certain they did believe that she cared for them; they’d hardly have that manic glow in their eyes, that love, if they thought otherwise. But Pearl had no love in her, no concern, no honor. It was all just flash and theater to her, the people in this world no more real to her than paper dolls.

“You’ve come for Isabel,” I said. “You won’t have her. Not again.”

“Isabel? Isabel—oh, yes, I remember her. A cute little thing, but a bit underpowered for what I needed.” Pearl shrugged. “I don’t want her. Besides, sister, she has you now to care for her. Why would I wish to intrude on that loving relationship? Why, you’re almost a mother to the poor thing.” Her smile was as swift and cruel as a hawk’s strike. She knew what it was like between the girl and me; she knew how complicated and difficult and dangerous it was for me to love a child of such power. To care, really care, in ways that Pearl herself did not.

And I hated her for knowing it.

Brennan cleared his throat. “Ladies,” he said. “Problem?”

Before Pearl could offer up the platitudes that were surely ready, I said, “Yes. If you keep her here, you’re accepting your own doom. She’ll destroy you. You need to get her out of here, now.”

Brennan thought I was joking, at least for a split second, but he must have quickly realized I was in deadly earnest. “What are you talking about? She’s—”

“Not a Warden,” I said. “Not in any way. The fact that she wields these children like weapons does not mean she is in any way sympathetic to your cause, or your challenges. She’s radioactive, Mr. Brennan. Use her, and you may win a short-term victory, but a slow, long-term death. It’s not even vaguely a possibility that she will allow any Warden on Earth to live once she has what she wants.”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. Shinju continued to smile faintly, untroubled, watching me with those unsettling, lovely eyes. Her hands remained gently on the shoulders of her two followers, who were likewise fixed on me with the intensity of hunting wolves.

“My sister is mistaken,” she said. Shinju’s voice was a weapon, too—full of music, gentle regret, false comfort. “I am heartbroken to be the cause of such strife, Mr. Brennan. You have given me shelter and safety here, and in return, I and the children have promised to protect this home you have offered us. We mean you no harm, I promise you. I am sorry for Cassiel’s bitterness, and her rage, but I do not share it. What may I do to offer you reassurance?”

He had to know, I thought. He was no fool. He had instincts. He had to know she was a danger to us all. The feeling she radiated was like razor blades on my skin, absolutely and unbelievably menacing.

“Back off,” Brennan said—not to her, but to me. “Shinju and the kids came here and contributed; that’s all I ask. How about you, Cassiel? You going to pitch in? Or you going to start a war right here, with a bunch of children?”

He didn’t see it. Couldn’t, of course; Shinju was a perfect flesh disguise for Pearl. Her frail beauty roused protective instincts, especially in male humans; her courage and quiet power raised other instincts in them that made them wish to believe her, trust her, want her. She was clever, my sister.

And insane, in ways the humans could not possibly guess.

“Our mother is ill,” she told me. “It is up to us to protect each other from her wrath until sanity comes again. That is the job of the Wardens, is it not? And anyone gifted with power and the will to use it.”

“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t think that I’ll ever believe you, or fall for what you’ve promised these people. I know you, Pearl. I know what you want, and what you intend. And I will stop you.”

“No matter the cost?” she asked, and put her arms around the two children. They leaned against her. It was a pretty, and damning, picture. “If you attack me, you attack them, Cassiel. You make war on children. How can you do that?”

“Stop hiding behind them, then.” I was angry enough to gather power around me, and I felt it crackling inside me like a storm.

Pearl’s eyes widened, and I saw the dark joy in her.

The child on her left extended his hand, and I saw the hissing power of lightning forming around it.

I lowered my chin and readied myself for a fight that would level the building.

“Enough!” Brennan said. He came to my side, grabbed my arm, and pulled me violently off balance. “Enough,