~Wren~

About a week after I'd been given some freedom, I walked out of my room to go down to breakfast exactly two minutes before my mother had told me to be there. Normally, the hall was empty, because I was far more comfortable with inciting my mother's wrath than Nico or Cassie were. Today, however, Zaria Hempsey was leaning against the opposite wall.

I tensed up, pulling back from her instinctually as she raised an eyebrow at me. "Hello, Wren," she said, her tone gloating and unkind. "Ready for some fun?"

My hands were shaking, or maybe it was just all of me. I swallowed, trying to get my voice to even work. I couldn't show how scared I was of her, right? That was too humiliating. I was afraid that she could already tell, though, that my eyes had given me away. Her expression turned into a smile. A cruel one. My heart sank. This was going to be the worst thing that I'd ever experienced, wasn't it? And Zaria was going to enjoy every moment of it.

Zaria reached out to grab my arm, and I pulled away from her. "I can walk," I snapped.

She just laughed. "Sure. Whatever makes you comfortable." She tossed her wand from one hand to another. "I think we both know it'll hurt more if you try to run off on me, hmm?"

It took everything in me to make my feet move after her. I was trembling, breathing too quickly, mind flashing through countless scenarios of what she might do. If I could've run, I would have. But she was right: it would only end up being worse if I tried to hide. Besides, I did still have some pride.

Not once did Zaria glance over her shoulder to make sure I was following her. It was like she didn't just recognize that I didn't have any choices, but knew I knew that, too. She was relishing in the hopelessness, I think, humming as we descended the stairs into the basement.

She led me to a room on the first sublevel, then opened the door and gestured for me to go in first. I stepped forward, but froze in the doorway. There was a table, and two chairs on either side, like any typical interrogation room. But Magnus Caldwell was sitting in the far chair, grinning sadistically at me.

Zaria shoved me from behind. "What? Not happy to see an old friend?" She pushed me towards the closer chair, then pointed at me. "Tie her up."

The too-happy sneer Magnus gave me made my skin crawl. He pushed me down into the chair. I met Zaria's eyes past him as his hands lingering too long in tying ropes around my wrists and ankles. I can't imagine how desperate I must have looked, but I didn't really care. All I wanted was for her to have an ounce of humanity, not to leave me here with him, not to let him touch me.

Zaria just gave me a mockingly pitiful frown. "Aw, are you frightened? You think I'd let him have his way with you?" She laughed. A wave of her hand, and Magnus left the room. "Luckily for you, that would be too easy, and not nearly enough fun."

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing, get ahold of myself. If I got too emotionally overwhelmed, they might just take me to Stillens now and have him do legilimency when I couldn't block him out. I couldn't let that happen. Instead, I took a deep breath. Don't break, don't break, don't break. When I was sure I wouldn't, I opened my eyes again to glare defiantly at her. "You're a monster."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'll show you a monster."

Once, when I was a small child, my grandpa had taken me to a no-maj children's museum a few hours away from where we lived. My grandpa had always been interested in no-maj science, and he walked me through all the different exhibits, explaining them better than the signs could. I particularly remember this ball that my grandpa told me was full of plasma. If you pressed the button next to it, the transparent gasses inside would all come to the middle in a glowing ball of plasma, with filaments like beams of light connecting the ball to the outer edge of the glass. If you put your hand on the glass, the beams of light would follow your hand. I told my grandpa that it looked like blue lightning, but I was too afraid to touch it, even after he'd told me it wouldn't hurt and done it himself. I was convinced that even though it hadn't hurt my grandpa, it might still inexplicably hurt me.

I bring that up, because it's the closest thing I can think of describe what I was seeing now. There was a crackling noise, and suddenly the air around us felt on edge. And there was Zaria's wand encased in what looked like the blue lightning. It was coming out of the tip of the wand, snaking up her wand and up her arm, though it didn't seem to be bothering her. I had a feeling that this wasn't like the plasma ball at the museum, though. It was going to hurt me a lot.

"We'll start off easy," she said, her almost psychotic smile lit by the crackling light in her arm. "Are you working for the DA?"

I swallowed down the urge to say something ridiculous. It was a better idea to just stay silent, probably. Zaria took a few steps forward and thrust her wand toward my face, until the lightning was inches away from my eyes, dancing around her wand like it was alive. I could feel the heat from it, and winced away as far as I could. With my arms tied to the arms of the chair I was in, though, there wasn't much I could do.

Zaria's smile grew. "I guess you need some persuasion."

I instinctively turned my head away, but instead of just jabbing her wand at me, she pulled it back. With a quick move of her hand, she swung it around like the butt of a whip. The currents of electricity flew out in a rope of lightning from her wand and wrapped around my shoulder, into my shoulder. It was burning, but worse. There was a buzzing sensation, rapidly spreading from my arm to the rest of my body. I think I screamed, strained against the ropes tied too tightly around my arms.

Then the burning was gone, though a faint buzzing was still left, making me twitch. There were tears on my face, though I didn't remember crying. The smell of something singed hung in the air. It took too much energy to raise my head, focus my eyes on Zaria, her lightning whip now pointed at the floor as she stood over me. "Are you working for the DA?"

I looked down again, and she cracked her whip against the floor, making me pull back, whimper. "Who's your secret keeper?" she demanded.

I managed to shake my head, and the burning started again.

~~~~

I don't know how long it lasted, but by the time Zaria was satisfied that I couldn't answer questions even if I'd wanted to, someone else had to help Magnus carry me back upstairs. I couldn't walk, or even keep my head up. I was still twitching and shivering when they left me in my room. I curled in on myself on my bed, crying off and on as the buzzing slowly faded from my mind, my body slowly grew still, my energy slowly crept back.

After a while, I managed to push myself up. It was almost noon. Would my mother understand if I didn't show up for lunch today? Probably not. I wasn't sure I could handle being yelled at without breaking down in tears, and that was dangerous. Best to not get yelled at.

I changed; the clothes I'd been wearing were slightly burnt and still crackled a little as I wadded them up and tossed them into the basket in my bathroom. I'd never heard of a spell like the one Zaria had used. I wondered if someone had created it for Stillens, or if it was just some obscure form of dark magic. Colette would've known...

I blinked, tears in my eyes again. I couldn't think about her, about any of my friends. It made me too unstable.

There was a knock at the door. When I opened it, Nico was standing there, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else as he shifted uncomfortably. "Your mum wanted me to see if you needed help downstairs."

"I don't," I said automatically, even though I probably did. It was happening less and less, but every few minutes it was like another jolt of lightning shot through me, like a really bad static shock. I'd almost fallen on my way to the door.

Nico sighed. "She said you'd say that, and I'm not supposed to believe you." He held his arm out to me, hardly sparing a glance in my direction. "Come on."

If Nico had come up here of his own accord, I would've still refused. But I didn't want to make my mother upset. I'd already decided I couldn't handle that today. I narrowed my eyes at him, as if he'd been looking at me to see it, and grudgingly took his arm.

"Are you all right? What happened?" Nico asked after a minute, his voice a little hallow.

"Nothing."

"I'm not dense."

"Could've fooled me."

A pause, then, "No need to be impolite, Predatel."

I don't know whether it was the fact that I'd spent the morning being tortured, or something else, but that comment made me snap. I pulled my arm out of his grasp and turned to glare at him. "Shut up!"

He raised an eyebrow, though the slight smirk on his face seemed more amused than anything else. "Excuse me?"

"Shut up," I repeated. "Stop acting like my anger at you is never justified, because we both know it is. You killed the man who was the closest thing I've ever had to a father, and you used my best friend to do it! I have no obligation to be polite to you."

Nico's smirk had disappeared, as had some of the color in his face. He was glaring at me, though. "What would you have had me do, Wren? He was going to kill me. Should I have died to save people I don't care about, who don't care about me?"

The wave of static shock rolled through me, and I winced, but managed to keep my balance. "I don't know. There's always another option."

"For you, there is!" Nico's eyes narrowed. "You've got a million people that care about you. When you ran away, you knew there would be people who'd fight for you. Sorry I don't have that, Wren. When I'm told to obey or die, those really are my only options."

"Then die!" I snapped. Nico's eyes widened slightly, and I suddenly felt bad without meaning to. It wasn't like I'd chosen to die, back when that had been my choice. I'd kept obeying until I got the chance to run. Didn't matter. I closed my eyes. "You can't obey a man who kidnaps children and keeps them locked in his basement, then pretend you have the moral high ground when I'm slightly rude."

When I opened my eyes again, Nico was staring at me in shock. "He what?"

"Yeah, didn't you know?" I rolled my eyes. "Cassie's not the only kid whose family has been murdered so she can come be brainwashed here and 'brought up in a family who understands her.' There's still close to thirty of them down there. How else do you think Stillens plans to get a generation of loyal followers like he has in America?"

Nico blinked, and it was like I could watch him processing the information in real time. Shock, anger, disbelief. Finally, he shook his head. "That's impossible."

"You can go see for yourself."

"I don't believe you," he said slowly, then shook his head. "That's ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous."

What had I been expecting him to do? Beg to join the DA on the spot? That wasn't going to happen. I sighed and shrugged, suddenly too tired to keep arguing. "Believe whatever you want. I don't care."

We stood there in awkward silence for a few moments. I can't tell you what Nico was doing, because I was staring at a spot on the floor halfway down the hall, wishing I could apparate to anywhere except here. After a minute or two, I sighed. "Are you trying to make us late?"

Nico didn't respond beyond taking my arm and starting down the hall again. We walked the rest of the way in silence.

~~~~

One of the only places where I could find some peace was the library on the first floor. No one ever came into the library, even to clean. I could tell from the layers of dust covering everything. I could even see traces of myself, coming to hide in here at eleven and twelve and thirteen. There were books where the dust looked newer, and a few of the chairs had far fewer cobwebs than the others.

I couldn't have told you why no one came in here, or why it was one of the only rooms in the manor that hadn't been restored. My guess was that there were no-maj books here, mixed in with the wizarding ones. I'd found Dickens on one shelf, prominently displayed by the fireplace. Austen and Bronte and Tolkien and Shakespeare were scattered about the room, too. Maybe Stillens didn't want anything to do with the no-maj books, and no one else cared enough about reading to spend time here. Whatever the reason, I was happy to have a place to hide, still.

From the window seat, I could see Nico and Cassie outside for at least an hour every afternoon. I still hadn't figured out if he'd been coerced into taking her outside, or if he was doing it willingly, but sometimes I sat with a book open on my lap, watching them instead of reading. Unlike every other person in this house, Nico didn't seem to get mad at Cassie for acting like a child. Scant points in his favor, I guessed, if I was awarding points to unrepentant monsters who treated me like dirt.

One afternoon, I was holed up with a book of poetry, hiding from Zaria. It had been two days since I'd seen her last (she'd used my mother's ice spell, which hurt a lot, but wasn't very creative of her), which meant another visit was coming soon. I wanted to put it off as long as possible, and since I wasn't sure anyone knew I liked to come here, this seemed like the best place to wait for her. Maybe it would give me an extra hour of peace, if she decided to come fetch me today.

I was in the middle of a particularly descriptive poem about a brook running to meet the sea when I heard the floorboards creak outside the door. I froze, poised to jump up if Zaria walked through the door. It wasn't her, though. My eyes narrowed as Nico Jasper appeared around the door. He glanced around the room before his gaze settled on me. Instead of seeming annoyed, he stepped forward into the room. "Thought I'd find you here."

I bristled at that. "Go away."

He didn't, unfortunately. Instead, he hesitated. I slowly closed my book, feeling more uncomfortable with each passing moment. Why had he been looking for me, when he'd avoided me for the past few weeks? Why wasn't he being as overly unfeeling and arrogant as he'd been acting lately? He hadn't spoken to me in more than a harsh comment in passing since we'd argued about the children, and that had been several weeks ago. Why was he looking for me now?

"Would you like to go for a walk?"

I blinked. "What?"

"It's a lovely day outside," he said, gesturing to the window.

For a moment, I could only stare at him. Was he sick? Was this some sort of trap? I slowly shook my head. "I'd rather jump off the roof than go on a walk with you."

"Well, you'd probably rather jump off the roof than be here, in general," he said with an uncomfortable laugh. He was joking? What was going on? "Seriously, though."

"I... why?"

"I think you could use some sunlight." He tapped his fingers across the top of the chair in a nervous gesture.

My brow furrowed. This was all very weird. I couldn't think of a single reason that he would be wanting to go for a walk with me, either of his own accord or because he'd been told to by someone else. "I don't want to go outside."

"I really think you should," Nico said. He glanced out the door, like he was afraid of someone listening, then took a few steps closer to me. "Less people to overhear you outside, you know."

"That's assuming I have anything to say to you," I said warily.

"Only one person has to have something to say to be overheard," was his reply. He gave me an intensely serious look. "That person doesn't have to be you."

It probably wasn't a good idea to go with Nico, right? He was unstable and horrible and objectively a bad, dangerous person. But my curiosity was starting to get the better of me. What on earth could he possibly want to tell me this badly? I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, then sighed. "Fine."

We walked through the manor to the back door without a word. The no-majs in the kitchen hushed when we entered, but they didn't make a move to stop us as Nico led the way out the door. I supposed this was actually allowed. Hopefully they wouldn't think anything of it.

I hadn't been outside in over a month, and the sun seemed much brighter than it had ever shone through the windows. I squinted in the light as we walked through the overgrown flower garden, to the low stone wall separating one type of wilderness from the more open moor. I hesitated at the wall, and Nico raised an eyebrow at me. "Don't worry; it's not going to set the alarm off." He pointed to a ridge about a hundred yards away. "There's a fence over there. That's as far as you can go."

He didn't seem like he was lying, and I supposed it would get him in more trouble than me if he was, so I took a few hesitant steps past the wall. Nothing happened, and Nico rolled his eyes.

"So?" I asked as we kept walking. "What do you want?"

He didn't answer for a moment, frowning at the ground ahead of us. I glanced at him in spite of myself, and he shrugged. "You were right. I found the children downstairs."

I blinked. "Oh."

"Not great."

"No. Not at all."

Again, he shrugged, this time more lightly, as if he didn't really care. There was something mechanic about the motion, though, like he was trying very hard to be casual. "Oh well. I'm sure Stillens has a plan for that, don't you think?"

"Yeah, he does." I stopped walking to glare at him. "I told you what his plan was."

"You could be mistaken."

"That's what he told me."

Nico studied me for a moment, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking, then he looked down. He shook his head, then started walking again. I huffed in frustration, then followed him. He couldn't be serious. He wasn't about to sit here and tell me this wasn't a big deal, wasn't a horrible thing. I'd thought he at least drew a line at child abuse. Maybe I'd been mistaken about that.

Nico jolted me out of my frustrated internal rant. "You're friends with Ciara Malfoy, aren't you?"

I paused, and he stopped walking as well. Such an unusual question. An unnatural lilt to his voice, as if he was struggling to sound casual, still. Of course, I was friends with Ciara Malfoy, but Nico knew that. And what did it matter right now? Unless... I pursed my lips, trying not to assume the worst. When I was sure I could keep my expression neutral, I finally turned to look up at him. "Yes. Why?"

Nico seemed to be straining to keep it together all of a sudden. His hand, clenched in a fist at his side, was shaking. He wasn't looking at me, but away and down. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then sighed. "She's here."

"What?" My mouth dropped open. She couldn't... What did he mean, here?

Nico closed his eyes tightly. "Stillens said he wanted some insurance on my loyalty."

I stood up. My heart was racing as a million things that could have already happened to her flew through my head. Insurance? Was Stillens threatening Ciara to keep Nico in line? "Where is she? Have you seen her?"

"They took her to the dungeon."

That was in the basement, the lowest level. I wasn't supposed to go down there. I would get in a lot of trouble for it, if I got caught. In that moment, though, I didn't care. "Do you know which cell? Could you take me there?" Nico nodded.

The winding, roundabout way we took down to the dungeon had to be an effort to avoid being seen. I hadn't known there were less frequently-used staircases and hallways downstairs, but somehow we hardly passed anyone, and those we did see didn't seem to notice us at all. Even the man sitting at the entrance to the dungeon hardly spared us a second glance.

At the fifth door on the left, Nico stopped. He frowned at the door for a moment, then turned back to me. "It's this one."

"Is it locked?"

"Yeah." He glanced at me, as if I could do something about that, then nodded. "Right. You don't have a wand." He pulled his out, quietly unlocked the door, then hesitated in front of it. "Um... if you... I mean, you don't have to, obviously, but..." He sighed. "Could you tell her I'm sorry, maybe? I didn't want this."

I stared at him for a moment. He met my eyes for a moment, looking hurt and scared, like a child. Then he looked away.

"I don't think I can do that. I'm sorry."

Nico nodded, as if he'd been expecting that. He stepped aside, letting me open the door myself. I hesitated for a moment, my hand on the knob. Took a breath, said a prayer that maybe this wasn't as bad as it seemed like. Then I pushed the door open, and stepped into the cell.

It had been years since I'd been in one of these cells, since the dementors were in a far off corner somewhere else. I think I might've spent my first few nights down here at eleven, and had avoided it like the plague ever since. But even in the pitch dark now, only a rectangle of gray stone in front of me lit by the dim light from the door, I could still remember what this room looked like. A thin cot to my left, with a blanket full of holes; a mockery of a bed. A sink and toilet in the far corner, grimy from years of no use. And a form huddled in the corner, cringing away from me.

"Ciara?" I whispered.

I heard a slight gasp, then hesitation. I resisted the urge to run over to her, just stood near the door. I had no idea what they'd put her through already, and I didn't want to frighten her.

After several moments of silence, Ciara's voice said, "If this is some kind of trick, I don't care. Go away."

My heart sank. I hadn't believed she was really here, not fully. "It's not a trick." I pursed my lips, wishing I had my wand for a light, then glanced back at the door. "Can I borrow your wand?"

Nico was sitting on the floor against the opposite wall of the passage now. He raised an eyebrow at me for a moment. We'd both get in trouble for that, probably, if someone found out, but I was pretty sure we'd be getting in trouble anyway. He seemed to come to the same conclusion and shrugged, then tossed his wand to me.

I caught it, then slowly turned back to Ciara. "I'm going to light this wand, okay? This is Wren. Really. It's not a trick." Ciara didn't answer, so I took that as permission. I pointed the wand at the floor, and on my second try, managed to cast lumos.

The light seemed blinding compared to the dark before. I had to blink a few times before I could see Ciara, holding her arms up to block out the light. I guess it was a harsher transition for her, since her eyes had probably been adjusted to the dark.

She was a mess. Her clothes were bloody, ripped in some places. Her hair was wilder than I'd ever seen it, tangled and hanging in her face. Her arms and face were bruised. I blinked a few times, now not because of the light, as she finally squinted at me in the light.

"Is it really you?"

I nodded, suddenly unable to put two words together in answer. The next thing I knew, she'd stumbled forward, and we were hugging each other tightly. Ciara was clutching at me like I was going to disappear, and shaking. Crying, actually. I was tearing up, too. I patted her back, doing my best to hold her up. "Hey, I'm here. I'm so sorry..."

Ciara pulled back to look at me, still grasping my arms tightly. Her eyes were wide, bloodshot, full of tears, but she was smiling. "We thought you were dead, Wren."

I shook my head; I was not the one we needed to be worrying about right then. "I'm fine, really. What are you doing here? What happened?"

"I don't know..." Ciara took a shaky breath. "I think... I don't know, it was all a blur. I was with Scorpius, and we were surrounded..." She shook her head. "We didn't stand a chance. I think he's dead..."

My heart dropped again. My stomach flipped, even as my mind started dreaming up every possibly reason why Ciara might be wrong. "He... what?"

"I mean, I don't know, it was nonverbal, so maybe not—maybe they just knocked him out?—but it was green, and then he went limp..."

Ciara was breathing too quickly, crying again, about to hyperventilate. I pulled out of her grip, then put my hands on her arms. "Hey, it's okay. Breathe, Ciara." I took a deep breath, too, hoping she might copy. "Just focus on me for a minute, okay?"

She did, luckily. Her eyes darted around my face as she took a deep breath, then another, and slowly seemed to grow more steady. After about a minute, I smiled. "There you go. Good job."

"Thanks," she said softly.

"Do you think you can tell me what else happened? It's okay if not."

Ciara shook her head quickly, looking away. "I can. I think. It's all a little jumbled after that..." She frowned. "I think I might have been knocked out, because the next thing I remember is waking up somewhere else..." She shivered. "Nico Jasper was there. And... Stillens, too. I recognized him from your boggart..." A pause, deep breath, looking up at me. "He's terrifying, Wren."

I nodded. "I'm so sorry..." As if that meant anything.

"He was talking to Nico. I was a little out of it, like I'd been drugged or something?" She shook her head. "I think he was saying... something about loyalty? I don't really know."

That made sense. "Nico told me that Stillens needed 'insurance' on him, and I think that's you."

"What does that mean?"

"When Nico makes a mistake, does something wrong, they'll hurt you."

Ciara stared at me for a moment, then shook her head. "That's ridiculous. Why would he care? Why would they think that would have any effect on him?"

I hesitated. How was I supposed to approach this delicately? I couldn't think of a way. "I don't think there's many people in Nico's life that he cares about Ciara. But you... you're one of them."

"Me? Are you mad?" She laughed, though it almost sounded like she was about to cry again. "Nico doesn't care about anyone except himself."

I glanced back towards the door. I couldn't see Nico from this angle, and I didn't know if he could hear us or not. I suppose it didn't really matter if I was exposing him, at this point, if he was the reason Ciara was locked up in here. It surely wouldn't make him feel that much worse about it all. "I'm not saying that it's necessarily a good obsession, but—"

"No, Wren, don't—"

"You know he liked you when you were younger—"

Ciara pulled away from me, suddenly looking very angry. "Do not tell me that I'm trapped in hell because that bastard's had a bloody crush on me this whole time. I think that's the last thing I can handle right now."

I winced; there wasn't much else I could tell her without lying to her, which I knew she wouldn't appreciate. Ciara searched my expression for a moment, anger dissipating as she realized I wasn't making this up. "That's so stupid, Wren."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I'm guessing he's the one out in the hallway?" I nodded, and she raised her voice, looking over at the door now. "If he's listening, I hope he knows that I hate him even more now than I already did. I hate him completely and totally, and I always will, and I will never forgive him for this." She glanced back at me, suddenly deflating. "I... this... none of this is fair. Why are we here?"

I shook my head. There were answers to that question, but I knew that wasn't what she meant. "I don't know."

She hugged me tightly again. "I'm so glad you're okay, Wren. I mean, are you okay? What have they been doing?"

I shook my head as she pulled back, looking down. I wasn't sure I could talk about that yet. Or ever. Who knows. "It's not too bad most of the time." My hallow voice gave that away as a lie, but Ciara squeezed my arm like she believed me anyway. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I mean, the cruciatus curse was no fun, but most people I know have had that used on them, at this point, so I guess I'll be okay." She managed a small smile. "Seriously, though, we were all so worried about you, back home. Albus and Colette..." She cut herself off, blinking quickly and seeming surprised about it.

I shook my head. "Thinking about the people you miss makes it harder."

"Right."

"I wish you weren't here," I said softly, "but I've missed you so much."

Ciara smiled, eyes shimmering in the low light. "Likewise."

We sat side by side on the cot, huddled as close together as we could get, talking about all the things that didn't actually mean anything, until Nico knocked on the open door and gruffly reminded me that it was nearly time for dinner. Ciara told him to do something that definitely would've gotten her detention at school, then hugged me as tightly as possible. "Come back, please."

"I will," I said, smiling. "I promise."

Out in the hall, Nico was pushing himself to his feet as I walked out. I handed him his wand in silence. He didn't look at me as he relocked the door, hesitated for a moment, then started down the hall. I fell into step next to him. It was something close to culture shock, going from that cell, where I'd been happier than I'd been in over month, to the relative freedom of my larger prison. To where everything was normal, and everything was wrong.

We made it all the way upstairs before I paused. I understood why Ciara would be the person Stillens chose to hold over Nico's head. After all, Nico himself would freely admit that he didn't care about his parents, because they were horrible people. He didn't have any friends, and he lived here because he had nowhere else to go. The only other logical option would've been me, possibly, before I'd outed myself as a traitor, but they were already trying to get information out of me. Better to use someone who was apparently useless to my uncle, except as something to keep Nico Jasper in line.

But why did Stillens need something to keep Nico Jasper in line in the first place?

I took a deep breath, then looked up at Nico. "Want to go for a walk? Less people to overhear you outside."

Nico shot my a surprised glance, the first time he'd looked at me, then turned his gaze back to the opposite direction. "Sure. Yeah."

The sun was still high enough to light up everything pretty well. Nico led the way over to the wall, then sat down on it, facing away from the house, towards where the sky was beginning to grow darker at the horizon. I sat down next to him, trying to order my thoughts.

Finally, I asked, "Why did Stillens want insurance on your loyalty?"

Nico didn't seem particularly surprised by that question, but he played along anyway. "What do you mean?"

"Why would he bother getting leverage on you if you're doing everything he wants?"

I was watching him, and now he met my eyes and didn't look away immediately. I'd been frightened he might be angry, but he didn't seem angry, honestly. Worried, sad but not angry. But I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

After several moments, he said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I rolled my eyes. "You can lie to me all you want, Nico. It's not going to change what Stillens sees when he looks in your mind."

He clenched his fist, and I flinched involuntarily. Would he actually hit me? No, probably not. Before I could even wonder that for long, his shoulders sagged. "I was just confused. Honestly. That's all it was. I don't know why he felt the need to drag Ciara into it."

"Confused about what?"

"Whether..." He turned away. "I don't know, Wren! A lot of things. Whether I'm a bad person or not. Whether all this is wrong..."

I was almost holding breath. So he had been struggling. Maybe he'd just been trying to hide it. Stillens would've seen right through him, of course. "Are you... are you still confused?"

"No."

That was so quick that I blinked in surprised. "You're not?"

Nico turned back to me. "No, I'm not. This is all incredibly messed up. Ciara shouldn't be here, those children shouldn't be in the basement, and I'm a murderer, which is already bad enough on its own, but get this! I'm working for an even worse murderer. Willingly! But there's not bloody much I can do about it at this point, is there?" His frown deepened into a glare. "Thanks for making me say that out loud, by the way, because now there's no chance Stillens will overlook it if he tries to find anything, and they'll just hurt her again."

I bit down the urge to apologize. "He'd see it anyway, Nico."

"Yeah, and that's the problem, isn't it?" Nico kicked at a clump of grass. "I can't live with myself like this, but if I keep thinking like this, I won't be alive much longer anyway. Or, worse, Ciara won't be alive much longer. And that's all my fault."

For once, I didn't know how to respond. He was right. His... I don't know, self-hatred? It was completely justified. It was all for things he'd actually done wrong. Objectively, morally speaking, he was as horrible as he seemed to think he was. I'd been in a place like that, but it had only been like that. I'd at least started out knowing what was right and wrong. I didn't know what to say to help steer him in the right direction.

Nico didn't give me long to think. He shook his head and stood up abruptly. "We're going to be late for dinner," he mumbled, then started for the house without waiting for me. I had no choice but to follow, feeling even more helpless now than ever.

~~~~

Listen, I know many of you are adamant Nico-haters, and I want to tell you that that's super justified. I get it. But just... let me just ask you to hear me out. Not right here, but in the story. I promise, I'm taking this arc incredibly seriously. Wherever it goes, I promise that it will be well-earned. Just watch it develop with a marginally open mind, all right? 

Question of the Day: Which death in this series has been the saddest so far? (Question from Shadyrain1210)

Answer: For me personally, it's split between Evie and Harry. Evie was the saddest as I was writing it, because I'd never written a death that would affect Astra very much before and it was difficult. But writing Harry's death was super heavy, probably the heaviest feeling I've ever had in writing, and I had a really hard time getting words on the page for those three full chapters building up to it. 

Vote and comment!

~Elli

Word count: 6198