it was clear that he still needed real medical attention. Zero and the other kids, several obviously detailed to watch Daniel and Butters, were standing around with pipes and old knives. “What do you think you’re doing here, traitor?”
Fitz faced him in silence.
“You led those men to us. You’ve endangered the lives of everyone here.”
Fitz almost seemed to dwindle, as if a cloud had passed between him and the wan light spilling in the windows. Dark, hostile eyes glared at Fitz from all around.
A quick check with my senses confirmed that the sorcerer was using power. “He’s pushing them,” I said quietly, “making them feel hostility toward you. It isn’t real. You’ve got to shake him, break his focus.”
Fitz gave a barely perceptible nod of his head. “I didn’t lead them here. They caught me while I was trying to recover the weapons. They forced me to come with them.”
“That’s not what the priest said,” Aristedes shot back.
“The father thought he was helping me,” Fitz replied. “There was no reason to hurt him.”
“No reason?” Aristedes asked. His voice was dangerous, deadly, and smooth. “That he should trespass here is reason enough. But he wanted to destroy this family. That is something I will not permit.”
“Family, right,” Fitz said. “We’re like the Simpsons around here.”
Personally, I would have gone with the Waltons, but I liked the cut of the kid’s jib.
Aristedes stared at Fitz with reptilian eyes and said, “Give me one reason why I should not kill you, here and now.”
“Because you can’t,” Fitz said in a bored tone. “You aren’t going anywhere under your own power. You’re fucked. You need help.”
The sorcerer’s voice dropped to a bare whisper. “Do I?”
“Yep,” Fitz said. “Wasn’t like it wasn’t going to happen eventually anyway, right? Sooner or later, you were gonna wind up eating applesauce with a rubber spoon somewhere. You think a bunch of kids you terrified into following you are gonna take care of Grandpa Aristedes? Come on.”
“I’ll give you one chance,” Aristedes said. “Leave. Now.”
Fitz tapped a finger on his chin thoughtfully. Then he said, “Nah. Don’t think so.”
Aristedes blinked. “What?”
“Here’s how it’s going to work,” Fitz said. “I’m going to take the priest, those two guys, and the crew away from you. I’m going to get them some help. I’m going to call an ambulance and get you some help, too. After that, we never cross paths again.”
“Are you insane?”
“I was,” Fitz said, nodding. “I think I’m coming out of it now. I know you aren’t coming back from Loopyland, though. So I’m taking the crew away from you.”
Aristedes clenched his fists and his eyes blazed—and though he probably didn’t realize it, his concentration faltered. The influence magic he held over the children wavered. “Kill him.”
The flat-eyed children looked at Fitz. Zero started taking a step toward him.
Fitz’s voice was a whip crack, sharp and loud in the echoing chamber. “Stop.”
And they did. No magic was involved. Fitz had something more powerful than that. He’d cared for those other kids. He’d thought about them, encouraged them, and led them. That was something every bit as real as mystic power and dark enchantment—and it carries a hell of a lot more weight.
Love always does.
“Zero,” Fitz said quietly. “We’re done staying with this idiot. Put down the knife and come with me.”
“Zero!” Aristedes said sharply.
I could all but see the strain in the air as the sorcerer doubled down on his influence-working, struggling to force the boy to do his will. He shouldn’t have bothered. It was over. It had been over ever since Fitz chose to walk back into that room.
Fitz walked over to Zero and put a hand on the other boy’s shoulder. “Z,” he said quietly. “I can’t make you do anything. So you tell me. Who do you want looking out for you? Me? Or him?”
Zero looked searchingly at Fitz. Then at Aristedes.
“Don’t listen to him,” Aristedes said through clenched teeth, spraying spittle. “Without me, you won’t last a day on these streets. The Fomor will take you all.”
“No, Z,” Fitz said quietly. “They won’t. It’s okay. We’ve got help.”
Zero blinked his eyes several times. He bowed his head.
The old knife in his fingers clattered to the concrete floor.
Another dozen knives and pipes fell to the floor as the other boys released them. They all went over to Fitz and gathered around him.
“I’ll kill you,” hissed Aristedes. “I’ll kill you.”
Fitz faced the crippled sorcerer and shook his head. Then he did what was possibly the cruelest