Carrie Vaughn - Dreams of the Golden Age

She wasn’t. She knew what he was going to say, but she could pretend it wasn’t true. Right up until he said the words. “Yeah, go ahead,” she said with a sigh.

“My people spotted them in a coffee shop. Theodore Donaldson and Anna West-Mentis. They looked like they were doing homework. Then the Eye produces this secret evidence the very next day. They’re Espionage, aren’t they?”

Celia almost admired the elegance of the secret identity, of the clever use of a passive power like Teddy Donaldson’s. She still hadn’t been able to figure out exactly what Anna was doing. Maybe she just wanted to be a vigilante, powers or no. Wouldn’t have been the first time that had happened in Commerce City.

“Teddy can turn invisible and walk through walls. Of course they are.”

A pause, and then the real question. “What can Anna do?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re her mother.”

“Which means I’m going to be the last person to find out.” She stopped, counted to ten, and rubbed the ache from her head. “We’re having some family drama over Anna at the moment. I appreciate you keeping an eye on her.”

“Sorry to hear it,” but he didn’t sound sorry. “Celia, I know you want to let the kids stretch their wings, but I’m worried. Them going after a guy like Roland—that’s awfully big quarry. My instincts say they’re right, that he’s rotten as month-old fish. But they can’t prove it with petty larceny and hope. I know I can’t completely stop vigilante activity—this is Commerce City, it’s the local sport. When they stop robberies or rescue kittens from trees, that’s one thing. But this is something else entirely. Breaking and entering, no warrants—we can’t use any of this evidence in court because of the way Espionage is getting it. We need to steer these kids in another direction.”

“Put yourself in their shoes: Your superpower is turning invisible, you’re not going to be taking down any gangbangers with that, so what do you do?”

“Breaking into a judge’s house and going through his things is not the answer.”

“Even if the judge is corrupt?”

“We can’t legally prove it,” Mark grumbled.

Spoken like a true servant of the criminal justice system, but Celia didn’t poke him with that because Mark was a good cop, and he was putting himself out there by even talking to her about this. Especially because he was right—she didn’t want Anna ending up in jail for breaking and entering. So, how to point them in a productive, noncriminal direction? She’d have to think about that.

“Have you heard from Analise lately?”

“She calls me when her kids leave the house. They’re going out about three times a week, and we’re usually able to find them when they do. They haven’t gotten into too much trouble. Yet.”

“Oh, give them time.”

“I’m afraid they’re enjoying all this a little too much.”

Celia had to smile at that. Ah, to be young and superpowered in Commerce City. “Wait until finals week, that’ll slow them down.”

He chuckled. “Whatever you say. And Celia—get some rest, you sound like you might be coming down with something.”

Down and hitting bottom. “I might be. Thanks for the concern.”

Celia wouldn’t be able to keep doing these lunches. Her appetite was failing, so she sipped water and nibbled at her salad and hoped Analise didn’t notice she was off. Not that Analise would notice, because she was picking at her own salad and looking pensive. They’d hardly chatted at all, and nothing about their usual topics. The weight sitting over them was too heavy to ignore.

“You okay?” Celia finally prompted, which was terribly ironic, she thought.

“It’s killing me,” her friend said, setting down her fork. “I can’t stand it. I stay up all night worrying about them, and then having to pretend like nothing’s wrong, that I don’t know what’s going on. All I can do is tell Mark they’re out there and hope he can look after them.”

The kids had a route they used to sneak out, to the roof of their building and then down the fire escape the next building over. Analise knew about it but didn’t try to stop them, just like Anna and the escape elevator. When Mark knew that the Trinity was active, he sent a patrol to watch them. Then Mark called back when the kids were on the way home. They didn’t always have a confrontation or adventure—sometimes they patrolled and nothing came of it. But he always let Analise and Celia know what had happened, so they no longer had to be surprised by the morning news. Yes, it was nerve-racking, but less so than it might have been.

“I’ve been out there,” Analise continued. “I know how bad it can get, but when I think about Teia and Lew in the middle of that…”

“How old were you when you started?” Celia asked.

“Seventeen,” Analise said.

“Did your parents ever figure it out?”

“My dad was dead by then, and Mom … she wasn’t around much. Not physically, not emotionally. Half the reason I started going out was to get away from that. To prove to myself I wasn’t like that.”

“It worked, I’m thinking.”

“I’ve tried to be a better mother to my kids, I’ve tried to do right by them—”

“You have. They’re good kids. They’re doing good. You knew if they had powers they were going to go out sooner or later.”

“I wish it had been later. I’ll be wishing that when they’re thirty. Assuming they last that long.”

“They will,” Celia said, quickly, reassuringly. “I mean, look at the Block Busters, how long have they been at this?”

“Any sign of a Block Buster the Third coming along?”

She smiled. “I’ve got my eye on him.” Junior had two small children, a girl and a boy. No signs of powers yet.

“That’s the way to do it, go out as a team and keep your eye on the kids.”

It wasn’t just fear for her kids tying Analise up in knots. She had a large dose of regret in there, too. A sense of failure. So much history contained in the lines of worry on her face. Her kids were out there alone because she couldn’t help them, and she felt like she’d failed them, Celia realized.

Celia decided to risk it. She pushed her glass of water across the table, to put it in front of Analise, who stared at it like it might bite her.

“Have you even tried?” Celia asked.

Analise pushed the glass away. “It’s like a muscle. If you don’t use it, it goes away.”

Celia didn’t believe that. “What would happen if you told them who you were?”

“I don’t think they’d believe me. I can’t even prove it anymore. You think I should tell them?”

“I think if you did, they might open up to you.” And she should probably take her own damn advice, shouldn’t she?

“No, I think they’re having too much fun playing secret superhero. And I’m just their mother. What about Anna and Bethy? They tell you anything?”

“Not a word. Not that I can blame them.”

Analise grinned. “They probably know you’re keeping plenty of secrets up your own sleeve, Celia West.”

Celia’s smile was thin.

ANNAspent way too much time on Rooftop Watch searching through shadowy cell phone pictures of purported superhuman sightings looking for news of Espionage—and the competition. Scattered among the usual posts were dozens of claims from people who’d seen the ghost of Captain Olympus pulling a small child from the street before said child got creamed by a car. Or alternatively that the ghost of Captain Olympus had been guiding the hand of the normal person who really grabbed the kid from the street. A whole miniature cult of people believed that her grandfather had been transformed into some divinely anointed guardian angel. She showed one of the articles to her mother once. Celia had smirked at it and observed that yes, she had seen the stories. When Anna asked her what she thought of it, Celia wouldn’t answer directly. “Doesn’t matter what I think. Never did,” she’d said.