Chapter 28: A Conversation Beneath the Umbrella
The world did not start moving again.
Color returned first, slowly and carefully, spreading back through the ruined garden outside the crater as though someone were repainting reality from the edges inward. The scorched grass regained its sickly green. The broken tables became brown again. Ace's pale skin warmed with the faintest hint of life, and the blood beneath her nose turned red instead of grey. Jervis's coat found its strange collection of faded colors once more. Rebecca's wild auburn hair rested against Kairo's chest, bright against the torn white and gold of his Duck Prince outfit.
Everything had color.
Nothing moved.
Dust hung in the air above the crater, each tiny piece caught exactly where it had been when time stopped. A shard of glass floated near Jervis's shoulder, reflecting a crooked little piece of the garden. Penelope and Nimbus were trapped overhead, the Pegasus's wings frozen midbeat, while Addison and Alaric stood near the edge of the crater with fear still locked into their faces.
Kairo could see all of it, but beneath Death's umbrella, the world remained black and white.
Her umbrella had grown while he was trying to understand what was happening. One moment it was an ordinary black umbrella held loosely over her shoulder. The next, it opened wider with a soft little sound and stretched until it hovered over both of them like a dark sky. Its handle disappeared into nothing. The umbrella simply remained above them, floating in place, blocking out a sun that technically still existed and yet felt very far away.
Darkness spilled from beneath Death's boots.
It stretched across the ground like ink running over paper, then rose in smooth shapes. A small round table formed first, its legs uncurling from shadow before settling against the grass. Two chairs followed, floating upward from the darkness as if they had been waiting there the whole time. They were ordinary-looking chairs, the kind someone might find in a quiet little café, except both of them were entirely black and had no reflections.
Death pointed toward one.
Kairo looked at the chair, then at her.
She continued pointing.
He carefully lowered Rebecca from his shoulder, only to realize that the sleeping girl did not fall. Another curl of shadow rose beneath Rebecca and shaped itself into a long cushion, gently supporting her body. Her head remained close to Kairo's side, her breathing steady.
Death pulled out Kairo's chair for him.
He stared at it again, mostly because he was not sure whether he was allowed to sit at a table that had crawled out of the personal shadow of Death herself. He had faced a psychic dome, a giant bat-girl, the Mad Hatter, and whatever Ace had done to the air. Somehow, sitting down for a conversation with the very pretty goth woman felt like the part of the day most likely to get him into real trouble.
Still, he climbed into the chair.
His legs did not reach the ground.
That felt unfairly embarrassing.
Death settled into the seat across from him, placed both elbows on the table, and lowered her face into her hands.
Then she stared.
She did not blink much.
Kairo wiggled in his seat.
Death kept staring.
He adjusted the scarf around his neck even though it did not need adjusting. He glanced down at his costume, noticed a dark stain on one sleeve, rubbed at it, then quickly stopped when he realized Death was still looking at him.
He swallowed.
She had the look of a Christian grandmother watching her badly behaved grandson from across a church pew after he had been warned twice already not to kick the seat in front of him. Kairo knew that look. He had seen versions of it from Mrs. Patel, Anika, Beryl, and once from Madame Xanadu after he accidentally used a ritual bowl to hold pudding.
Death's version was somehow worse because she could probably see every bad decision he had ever made, including the ones he had only thought about.
"Am I in trouble?" Kairo finally asked.
Death did not answer.
Her eyes moved over his face, then toward the place where the red thread had vanished into Ace's clock. One of her fingers began tapping against the tabletop.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Kairo's shoulders slowly rose toward his ears.
"Because," he continued carefully, "I feel like I should explain that I didn't know I was doing anything until I was already doing it. Which sounds bad. I know that sounds bad. Usually when people say that, they definitely knew what they were doing. But I really didn't."
Death remained silent.
Kairo looked around at the frozen world beyond the umbrella. "Also, she was dying."
Still nothing.
He leaned forward a little. "And I didn't want her to."
Death's finger stopped tapping.
Kairo immediately sat back.
Inside Death's mind, thoughts moved at a pace that had nothing to do with the frozen world around her. She had watched him for his whole life. Five years and change meant almost nothing to a being as old as she was, and yet she knew more about this child than she knew about many creatures who had lived for centuries.
She knew how he liked his eggs.
She knew he secretly preferred the sweeter tea Anika made over the stronger tea Beryl tried to convince him was proper.
She knew he hated wet socks with a deep and unreasonable passion.
She knew he would order a taco with chicken, cheese, sour cream, mild salsa, and no onions if someone asked him at the right moment, although he might add extra meat if he believed someone else was paying.
She could not say what Father Time would put on a taco.
That thought had bothered her more than she expected.
Time was her father, if the word father could be stretched wide enough to include primordial forces who had helped shape the structure of existence and then mostly went about their business without much interest in family dinners. He was older than the Endless. His presence moved through history, through every birth, every ending, every moment that rose and fell into another. He was necessary. He was inevitable.
Death did not hate him.
She did not love him either.
She accepted him.
That was easy for her. Death accepted almost everything eventually.
Father Time was distant because distance was part of what he was. He did not choose cruelty in the way mortals chose it. He did not wake up and decide to neglect his children out of spite. He existed as Time existed, always moving, always shaping, always approaching. Death respected that. She did not worship him and never would. Fear had never been needed between them.
Yet this little boy smelled like him.
It was thick in Kairo, hidden beneath the sweat, the torn costume, the dust, the faint trace of Beryl's soap, and the strange sweetness of old magic. Time ran through his skin and bones. It curled around his soul. Death and Destiny had seen it from the moment the child first silenced every clock around him because he wanted to sleep.
Kairo was not Father Time.
Thank everything for that.
He was warmer. Stranger. Much more likely to complain.
Death liked him more than she liked her father, and that was such an odd little truth that she sat with it for another moment.
Kairo watched her watching him and finally raised one hand.
"Can I ask what you're thinking?"
Death's gaze sharpened.
"Actually, never mind. That feels like a dangerous question."
Her mouth twitched.
It was not quite a smile yet, but Kairo saw it and relaxed by half an inch.
Death lifted her head from her hands and sat back. "You're not in trouble."
Kairo exhaled so hard his whole body sagged.
"You are," she continued, "very close to being in a serious conversation."
His relief vanished.
"That sounds like trouble with nicer clothes on."
Death laughed softly. It was a warm sound, easy and human, which somehow made Kairo feel safer than he had since the show began. "You're clever."
"I've been told. Usually right before someone gives me more work."
"I'm not giving you work."
"Rules?"
"Yes."
Kairo stared at her.
Death stared back.
He sighed and folded his hands on the table. "Okay. Rules."
Death leaned forward again, though this time her expression softened. "Before we get to those, I want you to tell me what you think you did."
Kairo looked toward Ace. The girl remained frozen beside Jervis, her clock hidden from ordinary sight now, but Kairo could still feel it ticking. Stronger than before. Still damaged, perhaps, but no longer fading.
"I gave her some of my time," he said. "I think. I reached inside her head and found a clock. It was broken around the edge. I pulled something out of me, and the clock took it."
"What did you pull out?"
"A red string."
"And what did it feel like?"
Kairo hesitated. "Like it belonged to me."
Death nodded. "It did."
His fingers curled against the tabletop. "How much did I give her?"
"Enough."
"That is not a number."
"No."
"Can I get a number?"
"No."
Kairo frowned at her. "You're doing the mysterious ancient person thing."
"I am an ancient person."
"That doesn't mean you have to enjoy it."
Death smiled fully then, bright enough to change her entire face. "I do enjoy it a little."
Kairo looked down, trying not to smile back, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him. "Is she going to live?"
"For now."
His expression tightened. "That sounds bad."
"It sounds honest."
He glanced at Ace again. "Did I fix her?"
"No."
Kairo went still.
Death's voice remained gentle. "You gave her more time. You repaired part of the damage her power has caused, and you allowed her body to keep fighting. That matters. It matters a lot. You did not remove every wound she carries. Some wounds are inside the body. Some are inside the mind. Some become part of the way a person understands the world. Those need more than power."
"So I only helped a little?"
Death shook her head. "You helped as much as you could without understanding what you were touching. That was dangerous, but it was not little."
Kairo looked down at his hands. They seemed normal. Small, brown, dirty around the nails, one knuckle scraped from the chaos. Nothing about them looked like they had reached inside another person's life and tied more hours onto it.
"She helped kidnap everybody," he said quietly. "She helped him control Beryl and the adults. She scared Rebecca. Rebecca changed because of her."
"Yes."
"She might have hurt us worse."
"Yes."
"I still didn't want her to die."
Death watched him carefully. "Why?"
Kairo took his time answering. Outside the umbrella, the frozen colors of the zoo shimmered beneath a sunlight that could not move. "Because she looked sad before any of this happened. Because she was staring at Rebecca like she knew something bad was going to happen and didn't know how to stop it. Because she saved the Mad Hatter even though she was dying."
His face scrunched slightly as he tried to sort out the rest. "And because dying is a lot. You can't take it back after. At least, I don't think you can. Maybe you can. You probably can. I can't. I don't know."
Death's eyes softened.
Kairo continued, quieter now. "She did something wrong. A lot of wrong things. But I didn't think that meant I should sit there and watch her disappear."
Death stood from her chair.
Kairo's eyes followed her nervously, but she only walked around the small table and crouched beside him. She lowered herself until they were looking at each other directly. Up close, she smelled faintly of rain, old books, and taco seasoning, which was a very confusing combination for the personification of Death.
"You did a very hard thing today," she said. "A brave thing too. You were hurt. You were scared. Someone helped put you and the people you care about in danger, and when you saw that same person dying, you chose kindness. That's not easy, even for gods"
Kairo shook his head quickly. "I don't think it was brave. I just did it."
"That is how many brave things happen."
"I was hiding under a table earlier."
"You were five under a table while a psychic criminal controlled a garden full of adults and your friend turned into a giant bat."
"When you say it like that, it sounds reasonable."
"It was reasonable."
"I still felt useless."
Death reached up and brushed her thumb gently over his cheek, wiping away a streak of dirt Beryl had missed because she had not arrived yet. "Feeling useless and being useless are very different things."
Kairo looked at her, caught between wanting to believe her and being afraid belief would make him arrogant. "You said even gods have trouble choosing kindness."
"They do."
"I'm not a god."
"I know."
"You smiled like you didn't believe me."
"I smiled because children with cosmic power always say that with such confidence."
Kairo stared at her. "That sentence makes it sound like you meet a lot of children with cosmic power."
"More than you would hope."
"That is concerning."
"Very."
He sat with that for a second, then asked, "Am I going to become one?"
"A god?"
"Yes."
Death tilted her head. "Do you want to?"
"No. That sounds like too much responsibility. Also, people always bother gods for things."
"Then perhaps don't worry about it today."
"That wasn't really an answer."
"No," Death agreed cheerfully. "It wasn't."
Kairo narrowed his eyes, but he had no energy left to fight a cosmic being over vague answers. Death returned to her chair, and with a small motion of her hand, a plate appeared on the table between them.
There were two tacos.
Kairo stared.
Death picked up one. "You're hungry."
"I am."
"I know."
He carefully picked up the other taco, inspected it, then looked at her with deep suspicion. "How did you know what I like on it?"
Death bit into hers. "I pay attention."
Kairo took a bite.
It was exactly right.
He chewed slowly, watching her over the top of the shell. "That is a little creepy."
"I'm Death."
"That doesn't make it less creepy."
She shrugged, "It makes it expected."
He considered that and continued eating.
For a few moments, they sat quietly beneath the giant black umbrella, eating tacos while the world remained frozen around them. It was probably one of the strangest meals Kairo had ever experienced, which was saying something considering the people who lived in his Grandfather's mansion.
When they finished, Death brushed her hands clean and folded them on the table. "Now the rules."
Kairo groaned softly.
"You already agreed."
"I know. I was hoping the tacos might distract you."
Kairo just shook his head. "They almost did."
"Damn." Death gave him a look. "Sorry."
"First rule," she said. "Never use this power when you are angry."
Kairo opened his mouth, but she lifted one finger.
"Listen all the way through."
He closed his mouth.
"Anger makes choices sharp. It cuts away patience. It tells you that the thing hurting you must be stopped right now, no matter what stopping it costs. Your power reaches into places where sharp choices can do permanent harm."
Kairo thought about Jervis walking through the garden. He thought about Beryl standing under the mind control, smiling without herself behind the expression. He thought about how badly he had wanted to make the Mad Hatter stop.
"What happens if I use it angry?"
"That depends on what you choose to touch. You could take too much. You could freeze someone inside a moment they cannot escape. You could shorten a life because you wanted the pain to stop. You might tell yourself you only meant to scare them."
Kairo's stomach tightened.
Death's voice stayed soft. "Power does not care what excuse you make afterward."
He nodded slowly. "Madame Xanadu taught me something like that. She said magic remembers how you use it."
"She is wise."
"She also makes me clean ritual bowls."
"She is very wise."
Kairo sighed. "Okay. No using it while angry."
"You will be angry sometimes."
"I already am."
"I know. Being angry is allowed. You step away. You breathe. You ask someone you trust to help you think."
"What if there isn't time?"
Death glanced toward the frozen world surrounding them. "You have more time than most."
"That feels like cheating."
"It is."
He almost laughed, but her expression told him the rule was still serious.
Death raised another finger. "Second rule. Before you change anything, ask yourself whether you are helping or whether you are acting because you are afraid."
Kairo frowned. "What if I'm both?"
"You usually will be."
"That makes the question less useful."
"True, but it also makes the answer more important."
He leaned back in his chair, thinking. "I was scared Ace would die."
"Yes."
"And I wanted to help."
"Yes."
"So how am I supposed to know which one made me do it?"
"You slow down enough to feel the difference."
"I'm five."
"You are for now." She said, taking another bite from a Taco.
"I don't always know what I feel."
"Most adults don't either. That does not excuse them from learning."
Kairo tapped his fingers against the table. "What does fear feel like when it makes the choice?"
Death considered how to explain it. "Fear says you must fix everything because you cannot bear to watch what happens if you don't. Helping says you will do what you can while accepting that the world does not belong entirely to you."
Kairo stared at Ace.
"I didn't want to accept her dying."
"You did not have to accept it without trying. You must accept that trying does not guarantee success."
His face tightened again.
Death reached across the table and rested her hand over his. Her skin was warm. That surprised him every time she touched him.
"You cannot save everyone, Kairo."
He looked away. "I know."
"You know the words."
"That counts."
"It counts as a beginning."
His voice dropped. "What happens when I fail?"
"You grieve."
"That's all?"
"No. You learn. You rest. You let someone hold you if you need it. Then, eventually, you keep living."
Kairo swallowed. "You make that sound easy."
Death smiled sadly. "I never said it was."
He squeezed her fingers once before pulling his hand back.
Death raised a third finger. "Life is precious. Death is precious. You must treat both gently."
Kairo's brow furrowed. "How is death precious?"
"That is a good question."
"You would say that."
"I would."
She looked beyond him, toward the motionless garden and all the lives suspended inside it. "Life has shape because it ends. Moments matter because they pass. People choose what to say because there may not always be another chance. Death is not punishment. It is not failure. Sometimes it is peaceful. Sometimes it is unfair. Often it hurts those left behind. Still, it belongs to life."
Kairo looked down at the tabletop. "So you don't want me stopping it?"
"I want you to understand what you are doing when you delay it."
"I saved Ace."
"You borrowed hours for her. Perhaps years, with care and help. You did something beautiful. You also reached into a balance you do not understand yet."
"Would you rather I let her die?"
"No."
The speed of Death's answer surprised him.
She leaned forward. "I would rather you never be forced to make choices like that at five years old. The universe does not ask my permission before being cruel."
Kairo's expression softened.
Death continued, "I am not telling you to stand aside every time someone is dying. I am asking you to touch life and death with respect. Do not use death as a threat. Do not keep someone alive only because you are afraid to let them go. Do not restore what should be allowed to rest without understanding the cost."
Kairo nodded slowly. "I already follow similar rules."
"I know."
"Then why tell me?"
"Because hearing them again will help you remember when you are tired, frightened, or angry."
"That sounds like something my grandfather would say."
"I like him."
"You know him?"
"I know everyone eventually."
"That was creepy again."
"I know."
Kairo looked at her for a long moment. "Do you know my father?"
Death's expression shifted so slightly that another person might have missed it.
"Yes."
"Is he going to die?"
"Yes."
Kairo's breath caught.
Death reached toward him before he could spiral. "So will your grandfather. So will Beryl. So will you. Knowing that does not tell you when."
"That was a terrible answer."
"It was the truth."
"I don't like it."
"You don't have to."
He looked close to tears, and he hated that. He rubbed at one eye with the heel of his hand, pretending there was dust beneath the umbrella.
Death waited.
Kairo finally asked, "Can I stop it?"
"Sometimes."
"Can I stop all of it?"
"No."
He lowered his hand.
Death's voice became quieter. "You should not have to spend your childhood trying."
That landed harder than he expected.
For a moment, Kairo was simply five. Not an old soul, not a time anomaly, not Dr. Wakati's brilliant grandson. Just a tired little boy in a damaged duck outfit who had watched too many people almost die in one afternoon.
Death moved around the table again and opened her arms.
Kairo stared at her.
She waited.
He slid down from the chair and stepped into the hug.
Death wrapped both arms around him, holding him close without squeezing too hard. He rested his forehead against the silver ankh on her chest. It was cool against his skin.
"You did well," she whispered. "You do not have to do everything."
Kairo's voice came out muffled. "I promised to keep them safe."
"You can promise to try."
"That sounds weaker."
"It is more honest."
He stayed there another few seconds before stepping back, embarrassed by how much he needed it. Death did not tease him. When she returned to her seat, Kairo climbed into his again and wiped his face quickly. "You said we could make a deal."
"I did."
"What kind of deal?"
"A small one."
"That is what old magical people always say before the deal becomes a huge problem."
Death laughed. "You have good instincts."
"What do you want?"
"For you to call me before you try to feed pieces of your life into someone else's clock."
Kairo blinked. "How?"
Death reached over and touched the golden watch hanging against his chest. Aurielis remained silent, deep within whatever strange sleep held her, but the watch face flashed once under Death's fingertip.
"When you find someone near the edge, and you believe you can help, say my name."
"Just Death?"
"That usually gets my attention."
"What if a lot of people say it at once?"
"A lot of people always say it at once."
Kairo thought about that and became uncomfortable. "Then how will you know it's me?"
"I will know."
"And then you come?"
"If I can."
"That sounds unreliable."
"I am very busy."
"Fair."
Death placed one finger against his chest, right above his heart. "You do not give away your time without speaking to me first. That is my part of the deal."
"And my part is asking?"
"Yes."
"That feels too easy."
"It will not feel easy when someone you love is dying and you want to act before thinking."
Kairo went quiet.
Death watched him carefully. "Do we have a deal?"
"What do I get?"
"A little protection from doing something that kills you."
"That is a pretty good thing to get."
"I thought so."
Kairo held out his hand.
Death looked at it, amused, then shook it.
The moment their hands touched, a small mark appeared on the inside of Kairo's wrist. It looked like a tiny black ankh wrapped in the thinnest red thread. It glowed once and sank beneath his skin.
Kairo immediately rubbed the spot. "Does that wash off?"
"No."
"Can Beryl see it?"
"Only if I want her to."
"Does it do anything weird?"
"It lets me hear you more clearly when you call."
"Can you hear everything I say?"
She didn't look him in the eyes. "Nope."
He gave her a look. "Everything I think?"
Shrugging and still not looking at him, she answered with, "No."
He shook his head again. "You hesitated."
She smiled, "I did not."
"You did."
Death smiled and let him worry about it.
Kairo leaned closer. "Can I ask you questions now?"
"You have been asking questions the entire time."
"I have more."
"I know."
"What are you?"
"Death."
"No, I mean, what are you really?"
"Still Death."
"Do you live somewhere?"
"Yes."
"Can I visit?"
"Eventually."
His face went pale.
Death burst out laughing. "Not like that. You may visit without dying if I invite you."
"That was mean."
"It was a little funny."
"What is Father Time like?" Death stopped laughing. Kairo noticed. She folded her hands and considered the question. "Distant."
"Is he your dad?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"Do you love him?"
"No."
Kairo looked surprised by the simple answer.
Death did not seem hurt by it. "I do not hate him either. He is part of the way reality exists. He moves through everything. I accept him."
"That sounds lonely."
"Sometimes."
"Does he love you?"
Death's eyes drifted toward the edge of the umbrella. "I do not think love is how he understands us."
Kairo frowned. "That's sad."
She shrugged again. "It is what it is."
"I hate that saying."
"So do I, sometimes." He looked down at his wrist where the mark had vanished beneath his skin. "You said I smell like him."
"I did not say that out loud."
Kairo slowly looked up.
Death slowly looked back.
"You thought it loudly."
"That is not how thoughts work."
"My thoughts do weird things."
"I noticed."
"What does it mean?"
Death's face became serious again. "It means Time recognizes you."
"Why?"
"I do not know yet."
That answer frightened him more than anything else she had said. Death saw it and softened her tone. "You are still yourself. Whatever moves through you, whatever old power notices you, you remain Kairo."
"Can Father Time take me over?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Can he control me?"
"No."
"Can he show up at my house?"
"He can."
Kairo looked horrified.
"He probably will not."
"That did not help."
Death smiled. "You have people watching you. Powerful people. Some are kind. Some are curious. A few will become problems. You do not need to meet all of them today."
"I already feel watched."
"I know."
"Can you make them stop?"
"No."
"Can you threaten them?"
"I could."
"Would you?"
Death rested her chin on one hand. "Perhaps."
Kairo smiled faintly. "I like you."
"I like you too."
"More than Father Time?"
Death stared at him. Kairo's smile widened.
"You really do see me thinking loudly i guess," she muttered.
He looked very pleased with himself. "You know what taco I like."
"That is true."
"Do you know his taco?"
"No."
"Then I win."
Death covered her mouth, trying and failing to hide another laugh. "You are a strange child."
"So I've been told."
The umbrella above them began to shrink.
Kairo noticed immediately. "Wait."
Death stood, and the table started dissolving into shadow. "Our conversation is over for now."
"No, it isn't. I still have questions."
"You will always have questions."
"What happens to Ace? What happens to Rebecca? Is the dome going to fall? Is Batman coming? Why is Aurielis asleep? Does my grandfather know you? Does Destiny like tacos? Can you bring back my mom if she dies? Can you tell me where my dad is? Can you tell me why my powers don't listen?"
Death's smile turned gentle again, carrying a sadness she did not explain. "One question at a time, little timekeeper."
Kairo's hand flew up in the air, "You didn't answer any of those."
"I know."
"That is rude."
"I will try to keep in touch."
"Try?"
Death reached over and fixed the crooked scarf around his neck. "You are going to be very busy."
"So are you."
"Yes."
"Then schedule something." She blinked. Kairo crossed his arms. "Beryl says if something matters, you put it on the schedule."
Death laughed so hard she had to look away. "I'll remember that."
"Next Tuesday?"
"We'll see."
"That means no."
"It means we'll see."
The table disappeared completely. Kairo's chair sank back into shadow, though Death caught him before he could fall. She placed him gently on the ground beside Rebecca.
The giant umbrella folded inward, shrinking until it rested once again in Death's hand.
Color crept beneath it.
Kairo looked down at Rebecca, still asleep with her head against him. Ace's clock ticked somewhere nearby, steady enough to ease the tightness in his chest.
Death stepped backward into a patch of shadow.
"Remember the rules," she said.
"Don't use it angry. Ask if I'm helping or scared. Treat life and death gently."
"And?"
"Call you before I give away my time."
"Good."
Kairo reached toward her. "Wait, what if I can't call you?"
Death's eyes softened.
"Then trust your heart, use your head, and do your best."
"That is four things."
"Goodbye, Kairo."
"Death!"
She winked. Then she was gone. The frozen world slammed back into motion. Sound arrived first.
The crackle of dying psychic energy. Jervis's broken breathing. The distant sirens. Penelope shouting something about Nimbus. Addison complaining. Alaric asking where the nearest exit was. Every sound crashed into Kairo at once, loud enough to make him flinch.
He was back in the exact position he had been in before Death pulled him away, one hand still resting near Ace's forehead, Rebecca asleep against his side.
Then Beryl appeared.
She did not climb carefully into the crater.
She ran toward the edge, jumped, lost her footing halfway down, and slid through dirt and broken wood with all the grace of a knight being thrown down a hill. She landed beside Kairo on one knee, one hand braced against the ground, the other already reaching for him.
"Bloody, buggering, miserable little nightmare of a city, what in God's green and deeply unreasonable Earth happened to you?"
Kairo barely had time to breathe before Beryl grabbed his face in both hands.
She turned his head left.
Then right.
She checked his eyes, ears, neck, shoulders, and arms with fast, frantic movements. Her hands trembled despite how carefully she touched him.
"Kairo, look at me. Any pain? Dizziness? Blurred vision? Missing time? Strange voices? More strange voices than usual? Can you move your fingers? Move them. Good. Toes?"
"My shoes are still on."
"Move them anyway."
He wiggled his feet.
Beryl released a breath that sounded as if she had been holding it since the garden fell apart. Then she noticed the dirt on his cheek and pulled a handkerchief from somewhere inside her costume.
"Hold still."
"Beryl." He said, trying to complain.
"Hold still, you absolute menace."
She wiped his face with all the tenderness of a worried sister and all the force of someone cleaning paint off a wall. Kairo squinted and tried to lean away.
"You're taking skin."
"You've got more."
"I need all of it."
"You should have thought of that before getting into a psychic supervillain incident."
"I did not schedule this."
"Neither did I."
Her voice cracked on the last word.
Kairo went still. Beryl froze too, handkerchief pressed lightly against his cheek. For one second, neither of them spoke. Her eyes were bright, fury and fear fighting for space inside them.
Then she pulled him against her.
Kairo made a small noise as she hugged him hard enough to squeeze the air out of him. Rebecca remained tucked against his other side, barely stirring.
"You scared me," Beryl whispered into his hair. "You scared the life out of me."
"I'm sorry."
"No. Don't apologize. I'm angry at everyone else." She said, shaking her head.
"That seems healthier."
"It isn't."
She pulled back, checked him one more time, then finally looked past him. At Jervis. The warmth vanished from her face. Her eyes became something sharp and bright and deeply British. Jervis, still kneeling near Ace, looked up and immediately seemed to understand that a new and very personal danger had entered the crater.
Beryl rose slowly. "Oh," she said, brushing dirt from her costume. "There you are."
Jervis held up one gloved hand. "Now, before we descend into anything unpleasant, I feel the circumstances have grown rather complicated."
"You mind-controlled me."
"Yes, well."
"You mind-controlled a garden full of people."
"There were mitigating artistic considerations."
"You threatened children."
"That was mostly theatrical."
Beryl took one step toward him. Jervis scooted backward.
"You brought a dying psychic girl into a kidnapping scheme."
His face changed at that, shame flickering beneath the madness. "I did not know how little time she had."
"That does not improve your position."
"Big sis Beryl." She either did not hear Kairo or chose not to.
Her fists tightened at her sides. "I'm going to fold that ridiculous hat into a shape no milliner has ever attempted, and then I'm going to introduce it to a part of your body that has absolutely no business wearing headwear." Jervis's eyes widened.
"Beryl," Kairo repeated, louder. She took another step. Kairo reached out and caught her arm. It was a small hand around her wrist, but she stopped as if he had anchored her to the earth.
Beryl looked down. Kairo's face was exhausted. Dirt streaked his costume. Rebecca slept against him, Ace lay nearby with new time ticking inside her, and the mark Death had given him rested invisibly beneath his skin.
"Big sis Beryl," he said quietly, holding her gaze. "We need to talk."
Her anger did not disappear. It shifted, turning from a fire searching for something to burn into something focused and protective.
She looked at Kairo, then at Rebecca, then at Ace. Finally, she looked back at Jervis. "This conversation," she told him, voice dangerously calm, "is the only reason you still have all your teeth."
Jervis nodded quickly. "Understood."
Beryl lowered herself beside Kairo again. She kept one hand resting against his back, as though she needed constant proof he was still there.
"All right," she said. "Talk."
Kairo looked around the crater at the children, the criminals, the broken garden, and the psychic dome still shimmering above them. Then he exhaled. "I met Death."
Beryl stared at him. Jervis stared at him. Ace's eyes fluttered faintly.
Somewhere above the crater, Penelope shouted, "Is that why he was talking to himself?"
Kairo closed his eyes. Beryl's fingers tightened against his shoulder. "You met who?"
And somehow, against all reason, the day became more complicated.