Just because they'd decided to have one last conversation with their grandfather before trying to escape didn't mean that it would happen right away. Kyle called only minutes after Akiko had left, but they hadn't reached him directly. His secretary had promised that he would get back to them by evening—not much of a promise when they didn't even have a window.
Kyle used the time productively.
Her magical studies slowed considerably while she had Fay with her, but that was just an inevitability she would have to accept. She wouldn't let the child out of her sight again, not while she was still in danger.
Monday's advice for what to study seemed even more sensible after Akiko's latest visit. Kyle needed to know how to stop and potentially even erase a spell completely. Akiko might be standing between us and the exit. I'll need to get past her.
First she read while Fay rested, which suited both of them just fine. Nothing in school had ever caught her interest quite like this—with lives depending on her, Kyle studied with all the energy she had.
Monday had given her everything she needed, though whether or not she could take advantage of it in a short time was another matter. Her ancient writings contained descriptions about two broad categories of counterspell she could learn. The first, prohibitively slow for their purposes, would involve knowing a little of the magic of any possible school of magic an adversary was using. But she didn't even know what those were, much less have the time to learn the basics of each one.
There was another way, one that involved far more raw power. The same symbols associated in some confused way with death itself could also be used to “kill” a spell of any type. Though in every case would involve just as much energy as had been "spent" on the spell in the first place.
I can do this. Power is the one thing I have. She did her best to memorize the basic diagrams, though of course she wouldn't have time to write them if it came to it. A counterspell would happen in the moment, probably to stop whatever Akiko had planned for them next.
Why can't she just keep working on the prosthetic and leave us alone? She has plenty of information now.
Then again, maybe now that she had her own alien to study, maybe she would leave them alone. Would Grandpa listen if they asked him to please release that poor idiot?
When Fay finally woke, she clung desperately to Kyle, fearful and shaking. She didn't wander anymore, but remained no more than a few steps away. When she got bored of Kyle's study in the bedroom, she yanked on her foreleg until Kyle walked with her through the kitchen.
She didn't mind Kara nearby, though she rejected any attempt for Kyle to pass her off for individual study. She broke free of Kara's grip, flying back to her and not letting go. "It's okay, sweetie," Kyle whispered, holding her with one wing. "I'm staying with you from now on."
Kara sighed, slumping onto her haunches. Granted, she sounded like someone settling a vase. "Not sure how you'll meet both of those demands at once. If only I had the face-spear, I could focus on what you're doing, and you could spend all your time with the kid."
"Face spear?" She turned, glaring at her sister. "You can't be serious."
Kara giggled. "We have to make our own fun somehow. That guy had one too, the one they dragged off. Wonder why I don't..."
Because you're a construct meant to contain the soul of someone close to a mage, so they don't die of old age.
Kyle's ear twitched, and she turned instinctively in the same direction. It was the phone.
She scooped Fay up in her magic, hurrying into the office to answer. She wasn't surprised to hear their grandfather's voice.
"Kyle and Kara," he said. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to get back to you sooner. I'm told something went wrong today."
"That depends on your definition of wrong," Kara snapped, annoyed. "Seems like it was exactly what your people wanted to do. Dragging some poor idiot in here, then traumatizing Fay until she exploded."
Kyle nodded, though of course only her sister would see it. Unless their grandfather was watching over the cameras while they spoke. The office still had them. "I thought we had agreed not to do anything to the baby," she said. "Fay can't be experimented on and tormented like that. Even if you don't care about her, she's not rational. She doesn't realize or even care that we have good reasons, or that we need to study what she can do. She's getting seriously terrified living down here. Sooner or later she'll level the entire bunker."
There was a prolonged silence from the other end, almost a full minute. Some part of Kyle wondered if their grandpa had hung up completely. Finally, he answered. "I think we should speak about this in person. Our measured levels of magic are considerably lower, I'm told. Enough for a brief conversation."
"Yes," Kara said. She didn't wait for Kyle to agree, but she didn't have to. If he came himself, that meant he still thought they were worth his time, right? It also meant he was willing to enter the presence of creatures both gigantic and magically powerful. "Talking in person would be good. When?"
"I'm flying back tomorrow. We'll talk as soon as I arrive." The line clicked, silent.
"He didn't react when we mentioned the one they brought in to expose," Kara muttered. "Should we have pressed him?"
"I don't know." Kyle held Fay up to her chest, stroking her back with a wing. "It's not like I don't feel terrible it's happening. When he comes tomorrow, we should tell him to stop. But if I can only protect a stranger or Fay, I know who I'm protecting."
Kara didn't answer for a long time. "It's not like we didn't know he was... bad," she said. "There's a reason Mom and Dad wanted to keep him out of our lives. But when it was beg to him or beg to the government..."
Back then, Kyle would've taken family in a heartbeat. Now, though... now maybe she should've taken her chances with Area 51. Or wherever it was they stashed things that didn't make sense. Maybe she counted as an SCP.
"Let's see if Fay will give me some time to practice," Kyle said. "I'm... I think I've nearly got this. What Monday wanted me to learn, about stopping magic. Figure we might need it soon."
"Or maybe she'll come and rescue us."
Kyle rolled her eyes. That was the one thing she could never count on, despite Monday's optimistic offer. Whatever they did, they would have to do it on their own.
She spent the next several hours studying, at least when she wasn't caring for Fay. Also some of the time she was—it wasn't like she had to do much when the foal was nursing. Ultimately though, she would need an opportunity to actually test the theory in practice. She could already end her own spells at will, so didn't have anything to test on.
I wonder where they're putting that man they brought down here. Is there another, deeper level to this place, or did they move him somewhere else? She might've asked Akiko about it, if she trusted her at all. But once they had gone back on the promise not to involve Fay, all that trust was shredded.
There were no further disasters that night, with the possible exception of Fay's unsteady sleep. Akiko didn't try to walk into their holding cell again—perhaps that one was unsurprising, considering the reaction she would've gotten.
She has another test subject to occupy her now. If they ever got out of this—if Kyle ever mastered her powers—she would have to do something to help. Maybe just build another prosthetic using Akiko's designs? Too bad she hadn't left that thing around, being able to become human on command would've been amazing. Even if it required her to keep contact with an ugly hunk of metal, and she couldn't have the body she wanted.
Then afternoon came, and the grinding sound of the security fence opening in the distance. Kyle might've left the baby with Kara again to have this conversation somewhere the baby wouldn't have to be frightened by it—but every single time someone had hurt Fay, it was because Kyle was somewhere else.
Fay began to squirm on her back, whimpering quietly as they approached the outer gate. It seemed that recent experience was conditioning her into a terrified reaction whenever humans were involved. There's no way that's going to backfire.
Several burly men in black suits had accompanied him, though Kyle caught only a glimpse of them on the other side of the gate. Are those guys usually here and I just didn't notice, or are they new?
"Sorry it took so long," Grandpa said, smiling at them as though they'd never been transformed. "Business elsewhere, you understand. Not to suggest I'm not giving your situation my full attention, but there's little I can personally offer to intervene. My personal gifts do not extend to those useful to you."
"The one you're sending is making a real asshole of herself," Kara whispered. It wasn't enough to keep Fay from growing more agitated, slipping backward on Kyle's back. Kyle held her in place with a little magic, hushing her as best she could.
"It's okay, we're just talking. It will be okay."
Grandpa stiffened, turning slowly to face Kara. "Please, explain. I was under the impression that I had hired only the best, most professional free agent Willworker. If I was mistaken, I need to know."
Kyle barely even heard what Kara said next. Their anger about some stranger being used as a test-subject, clearly unwillingly. But as angry as Kyle was about that, there was something more sinister, something that had been there from their first conversation.
She released her spell on Fay, feeling with invisible senses towards her grandfather. What she'd taken for her imagination's interpretation of his confidence and will was far more than that.
There's a spell on his head. Kyle was far too young to be making judgements—she didn't know the magical schools or all the power they offered. But as she listened to him grow increasingly defensive over Akiko's behavior, the pressure from outside seemed even more obvious to her.
With more time, she would've liked to consult someone about this. Monday might've been able to explain what was going on here, and the dangers if she left it alone. But whatever else he had done, whatever his mistakes—Grandpa Harrington was family. She had to do something.
She wanted to practice a counterspell—now she had her chance.
Kyle held the simple diagram in her mind, and called on one of the other tools her limited information suggested could be used to enhance a spell: words.
"Decay," she whispered. Her horn flared to life, brilliant violet that reflected off the plexiglass. Someone shouted from behind her, but she wasn't listening. "Chain rust, rope unravel, river turn aside."
The faint touch of magic on him frayed and boiled away in seconds, like a splash of moisture on hot pavement.
Edgar collapsed, slumping forward against the wall.