head twisting violently from side to side, her eyes huge in her suddenly gaunt face.
“Hazel,” said Silver, keeping his voice carefully calm and even. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“It’s different,” Hazel said thickly. “I’m different. I shouldn’t have taken Blood here. Not with so many espers around. They’re . . . affecting me. I can’t tell what’s in my head and what’s outside. The Blood’s . . . awakening something within me. Something I didn’t even know was there. I can see things, John, so many things. Nothing’s hidden from me anymore.”
She stared at the wall before her, and suddenly it was gone. It only took Silver a moment to realize that he was seeing what she was seeing; her mind linking with his to show him what was in the next room. The young burglar named Cat was spilling brightly shining jewels onto a table from a leather pouch, while his fence, the woman called Cyder, laughed and clapped her hands. Hazel turned her head away, and the wall became visible again. She glared at the opposite wall, and it disappeared to reveal a card game deteriorating into muffled shouts and accusations.
Silver tried to shake her, but couldn’t move her an inch. She suddenly turned her stare on him, and in that moment he felt utterly transparent, as though she could see everything within him, good and bad and in between, all captured in a moment. She seemed bigger than Silver, towering over him like some ancient god of judgment with no trace of mercy or compassion. He stepped backwards, jerking his hands away from her arms as though they’d burned him. Hazel’s stare turned inward, and images began to blink in and out around her. Visions came and were gone in seconds, cycling through faces and places, some of which Silver recognized.
An old man sat slumped on a cot, worn and broken down by life, wearing a janitor’s uniform. “They broke me. Go look somewhere else for your savior or leader.” Then he was gone, and Owen took his place, bleeding from a dozen wounds, sword held out to ward off an unseen enemy. “When you see the opening, run, Hazel. I’ll keep them occupied.” A mob of shadows surged forward from all sides, and he disappeared beneath them, still swinging his sword. They blinked out, replaced by a grinning Ruby Journey. “I’m just in it for the loot.” Silver tried to reach out to Hazel again, but couldn’t get near her. Her memories had the force of reality.
Ruby was replaced by a tall, furred, and lupine figure that Silver realized with a jolt had to be a legendary Wolfling. The huge figure looked right at Silver, and said, “It is a sad and bitter honor to be the last of one’s kind.” He disappeared, replaced by a Hadenman with glowing golden eyes. Behind him towered a vast honeycomb of gold and silver, thickly encrusted with ice. The long-lost Tomb of the Hadenmen. The augmented man called Tobias Moon stared at Silver, and said in his buzzing inhuman voice, “All we ever wanted was our freedom.” And then the ice melted, and strange colors came and went on the air, and the Hadenmen emerged from their Tomb, great and glorious and perfect beyond hope. And then there was only Owen again, staring sadly into Hazel’s eyes. “You can’t fight evil by becoming evil.”
Hazel turned away from him, and Owen disappeared as she looked at Silver. Their eyes met, and new visions appeared. Silver, making deals with crooks and scum, to keep the peace in Mistport’s streets. Silver, paying off legbreakers like Marcus Rhine, so they wouldn’t interfere with his Blood distribution network. Silver, looking the other way, as rivals were eased out or shut down the hard way. The visions faded away, and Hazel looked at Silver with new, cold eyes.
“Just a few drops, now and then, for you and a few special friends? Bullshit. You’ve been running your own distribution network for the drug, all over the city. How many new plasma babies are there out there now, John? How
“Hazel,” said Silver, keeping his voice carefully calm and even. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“It’s different,” Hazel said thickly. “I’m different. I shouldn’t have taken Blood here. Not with so many espers around. They’re . . . affecting me. I can’t tell what’s in my head and what’s outside. The Blood’s . . . awakening something within me. Something I didn’t even know was there. I can see things, John, so many things. Nothing’s hidden from me anymore.”
She stared at the wall before her, and suddenly it was gone. It only took Silver a moment to realize that he was seeing what she was seeing; her mind linking with his to show him what was in the next room. The young burglar named Cat was spilling brightly shining jewels onto a table from a leather pouch, while his fence, the woman called Cyder, laughed and clapped her hands. Hazel turned her head away, and the wall became visible again. She glared at the opposite wall, and it disappeared to reveal a card game deteriorating into muffled shouts and accusations.
Silver tried to shake her, but couldn’t move her an inch. She suddenly turned her stare on him, and in that moment he felt utterly transparent, as though she could see everything within him, good and bad and in between, all captured in a moment. She seemed bigger than Silver, towering over him like some ancient god of judgment with no trace of mercy or compassion. He stepped backwards, jerking his hands away from her arms as though they’d burned him. Hazel’s stare turned inward, and images began to blink in and out around her. Visions came and were gone in seconds, cycling through faces and places, some of which Silver recognized.
An old man sat slumped on a cot, worn and broken down by life, wearing a janitor’s uniform. “They broke me. Go look somewhere else for your savior or leader.” Then he was gone, and Owen took his place, bleeding from a dozen wounds, sword held out to ward off an unseen enemy. “When you see the opening, run, Hazel. I’ll keep them occupied.” A mob of shadows surged forward from all sides, and he disappeared beneath them, still swinging his sword. They blinked out, replaced by a grinning Ruby Journey. “I’m just in it for the loot.” Silver tried to reach out to Hazel again, but couldn’t get near her. Her memories had the force of reality.
Ruby was replaced by a tall, furred, and lupine figure that Silver realized with a jolt had to be a legendary Wolfling. The huge figure looked right at Silver, and said, “It is a sad and bitter honor to be the last of one’s kind.” He disappeared, replaced by a Hadenman with glowing golden eyes. Behind him towered a vast honeycomb of gold and silver, thickly encrusted with ice. The long-lost Tomb of the Hadenmen. The augmented man called Tobias Moon stared at Silver, and said in his buzzing inhuman voice, “All we ever wanted was our freedom.” And then the ice melted, and strange colors came and went on the air, and the Hadenmen emerged from their Tomb, great and glorious and perfect beyond hope. And then there was only Owen again, staring sadly into Hazel’s eyes. “You can’t fight evil by becoming evil.”
Hazel turned away from him, and Owen disappeared as she looked at Silver. Their eyes met, and new visions appeared. Silver, making deals with crooks and scum, to keep the peace in Mistport’s streets. Silver, paying off legbreakers like Marcus Rhine, so they wouldn’t interfere with his Blood distribution network. Silver, looking the other way, as rivals were eased out or shut down the hard way. The visions faded away, and Hazel looked at Silver with new, cold eyes.
“Just a few drops, now and then, for you and a few special friends? Bullshit. You’ve been running your own distribution network for the drug, all over the city. How many new plasma babies are there out there now, John? How
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