Poison Tree

up at the others. “Plus, she has a juvenile arrest record about a mile long.”

Lynzi replied, “It’s common for people— especial y younger people—to act out when they learn that humans are not alone on this earth. It also isn’t unusual for people to have trouble transitioning when they do nally make it to SingleEarth.” The remark was directed at Jason and Sarik. They had caused a few waves with their quick tempers and frequent spats when they had rst joined SingleEarth four years ago. “The issue with the ghter’s guild was two years ago, when Alysia had just joined. I don’t see any disciplinary actions or other negative marks on her file since then.”

“You’re right,” Sarik admitted. “Who we are in SingleEarth often has little or nothing to do with who we used to be. But I’m not seeing any evidence here that she even wants this job. Did she apply?”

She had not. There was, however, a note indicating that she had applied for a promotion in the Information Technology department, which included everything from network support to document acquisition. Jason and Sarik both had birth certi cates and Social

Security cards provided by that group—SingleEarth’s own form of witness protection.

“Alysia has been working in IT for almost two years now,” Diana replied, “but she has previously expressed an interest in moving into a more people-centered career.”

Jason stepped up in his own cautious way. “I share some of Sarik’s reservations,” he said, “but I see no reason not to invite her in for an interview. We all became mediators because we are better with people than with paper.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Diana said.

Lynzi nodded her agreement, and with that, the discussion was over. Diana Smoke had made up her mind, and no twenty-two-year-old tiger hired a little over a half year ago was going to override her.

Funny, that was exactly the reason Joseph had cited for quitting, leaving this position available: despite SingleEarth’s stated mission of equality, he had felt that witches’ voices carried more power. Sarik wasn’t sure who he thought should have nal say, given the fact that Smoke witches had founded SingleEarth, and Diana Smoke was o cially the organization’s CEO. Witch or not, someone always needed to be in charge.

Sarik realized guiltily that she had been expecting the stereotypical tech geek, but Alysia showed up at SingleEarth Haven #4 wearing a gray suit jacket with black pants and a dark rose button-down shirt. Her brown hair was tied back and clipped up and she looked like a young professional trying to make a positive rst impression. Sarik found herself sympathizing with her, despite her earlier reservations.

She’s nearly my age, Sarik thought as they shook hands and introduced themselves. Only a year older. Is she as nervous as I was when Diana interviewed me?

Alysia did not look nervous as she shook hands with the others around the table. She smiled at the right moments, but the smile disappeared when Diana asked her to describe what had happened at the Cafe au Late co eehouse recently. She chose her words carefully, relating the story modestly but honestly.

Why does she seem so familiar?

The thought pricked at Sarik as Alysia was answering questions about her past, a subject most members of SingleEarth tried to avoid.

“I spent most of my life getting into trouble,” she freely admitted. “I’m good at guring out how things work, and when I was fourteen or so, I didn’t care that sometimes it was illegal to make something work—like a car or someone else’s computer.” The rueful acknowledgment made Diana, Lynzi, and Jason nod sympathetically. “I enrolled in university to study psychology when I realized that people are even more interesting than machines. I discovered that I am good in a role where I can talk to people and help them understand what is going on.”

“And manipulate them,” Sarik interjected.

Diana shot Sarik a warning look, but Alysia just gave a half shrug. “Sometimes,” she answered, meeting Sarik’s gaze squarely. “I mean, yes,” she continued, her voice rising slightly as she continued. “When I walk in looking for a co ee and there’s a guy with a gun, a round of explosives, and a let knife who plans to keep slicing people up until he gets his way, then yes, I pray to whatever powers might exist that I can manipulate him so we can all walk out of there alive. And I did, and then I got every person who had been in that room into SingleEarth’s care within hours so they could decide if they wanted to become shifters and could get the post-trauma therapy one tends to need after spending six hours as a hostage. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Diana said. “You and Sarik are both right. Sometimes in this organization, it is our job to educate openly, and sometimes it is our job to manipulate in any way possible to ensure the safety of our people.”

Alysia nodded.

“You should know,” Lynzi said, “that Haven Number Four isn’t the type of place that normally deals with things like hostage situations. While we do act as point people in times of crisis, your day-to-day job here is more likely to be spent doing paperwork or getting on the phone to coordinate with hospitals, therapists, and law enforcement within and beyond

SingleEarth.”

Haven #4 was one of the smallest of SingleEarth’s properties, and mostly housed individuals who just needed a safe place to stay. The Haven had a therapist on sta but did not even have ghters; unlike some of the other Havens, they didn’t work with the types of individuals who drew violence or caused it. Sarik had chosen #4 for that very reason. She wanted to stay far, far away from the other side of SingleEarth, which dealt with supposedly reformed mercenaries and killers and with violently unstable survivors of magical mishaps or of uneducated upbringings that made them unable to control their own bodies and minds.

Alysia smiled modestly. But to Sarik, her expression seemed fake.

“I function well in a crisis,” Alysia replied, “but I don’t need or want to spend every waking hour living one.”

Does she remind me of myself? Sarik wondered as Diana thanked Alysia for her time. The human made her round of polite goodbyes and left.

Everything Alysia had said had been right. Sarik couldn’t fault her if it seemed too right; she was applying for a job that would require knowing how to say the right thing in the right way. Sarik had walked into her own interview with signi cantly less experience and far more questionable moments in her own background.

“I like her,” she said to the others after Alysia was gone and the door was closed.

It wasn’t true, really, but it should have been, because Sarik had no valid excuse to feel otherwise. Nothing except a vague sense of familiarity and the ever-present anxiety that someday the demons of her past would catch up to her.

CHAPTER 2

BARELY FORTY-EIGHT HOURS later, Alysia stood in the parking lot, leaning against the bumper of her one-year-old Subaru and wondering what on earth had possessed her to accept this job.For the last two years, she had worked in SingleEarth’s IT department. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t much challenge in it, because it was just a job, an excuse to keep up to date and ll the time before she moved on. This new job, working as a mediator at Haven

#4, wasn’t glorious, either, but it was an entry-level position on SingleEarth’s crisis team, where someone like Alysia could really make a long-term career.

Long-term. Career. There are two concepts I never thought I’d be interested in.

Yet here she was, standing in the middle of nowhere while the brisk December wind cut through her, despite her jacket and gloves. Most of the trees in the forest around her were pine, but there were enough bare branches and old, fallen leaves to give it a tired feel.

Haven #4 was set in the woods of western Massachusetts like some kind of bizarre college campus. The