Dawn came and went, and it was quite a shock for most of the World Tree's residents when they woke up to the news that the rest of Jubilee had been canceled. It came as even more of a shock when they saw the Enforcement Bureau operating right outside the entrance, arresting practically their entire security force as well as almost the whole High Council.
Everyone knew something had gone on during the night, but few had been privy to even the most basic details. Some noise here and there. A group of troublemakers who had too much to drink. That's what most figured had gone on.
It took a lot of convincing, even with all the guards in handcuffs, for the unaware Greenkin to accept that a global genocidal conspiracy had been activated and then foiled during their brief hours of sleep. But the evidence of battle was plentiful, and Cleaners scurried all around the Tree's lower floors like ants, so there was no use denying it.
Red watched along with Malcolm, Clover, and Dimple from his perch atop one of the World Tree's roots. It was one of the smaller ones, which meant it popped out of the ground twice as tall as most people, but they needed some height to see the goings on.
The Bureau had parked a row of some three dozen cars, vans, and trucks outside the Tree, just about filling up the clearing. Cleaners went back and forth, coming out of the Tree with stacks of confiscated paper or with some arrested Greenkin that they then deposited into one of the vehicles.
As Malcolm had explained it, Cleaners were the ones who always dealt with the aftermath of Ranger work. Mostly that meant hiding it ever happened from all the normal folk, but in instances like this that was less important than figuring out what had occurred in the first place.
Arrests were only happening now because they'd spent all morning interviewing people, combing the Tree for evidence, disposing of the bodies, and treating the injured. The one's doing all the work wore loose-fitting clothes, while the ones directing them donned black suits and tapped their ears to coordinate through what had to be a radio.
They were, in other words, pretty much the magic FBI.
Clover laughed when Red called them that. Malcolm, as was his custom, only scowled at the joke.
"They're not magic FBI," the boy said. His glasses, though clean, were still cracked and a little bent. He adjusted them against his face, standing with arms crossed and looking down at the seated Red with baggy eyes. "The FBI has a Mystic division already, and they do actual FBI stuff. Cleaners are Ranger Corps exclusive."
Red shrugged, taking a bite from one of many apples that had so far made up his breakfast. "Look, man, they're wearing suits, sunglasses, that curly wire earbud thing... That's definitely FBI."
"But they're literally not."
"Okay, so they're FBI wannabes. What's the difference?"
Malcolm rolled his eyes, about to respond, but then he looked down and saw Daphne walk out of the entrance. Next to her strolled a portly man, his own suit purple to distinguish him from the others.
"There's someone I have to talk to," Malcolm said, and without another word leaped off the root they'd been sitting on.
Clover called a "Wait up!" and went after him. Left behind, Red turned to Dimple with an inquiring look. The minotaur hadn't talked much since they'd all gotten healed up and allowed their few hours of rest, staring off at some distance or another instead.
"C'mon, Bull Boy," Red said, punching Dimple's arm. It was light but still stung, and the boy laughed at Dimple's brief glare.
Meanwhile, Malcolm reached Daphne and the purple-suited man. They'd been deep in conversation, Daphne frowning thoughtfully at the ground and the man's hard face calmly observing the working Cleaners all around them, but seeing the bespectacled boy they both stopped and waited for him to join them.
"Ah, if it isn't the heroes of the day," the man said, smiling slightly as he saw Clover coming with Red and Dimple just behind her. There was a hint of irony in his voice, though when he looked down at Malcolm his smile widened with undeniable friendliness. "It's been some time, Malcolm."
Malcolm nodded, and couldn't help a smile of his own. "Nice to see you, En."
"And you," En said, looking over when Red neared, "must be the one who defeated Harmony. Good work, Ranger. God knows where we'd be now if things had gotten any worse."
It was the exact kind of thing Red should've eaten up. Malcolm, Clover, and even Dimple expected the boy to grin at the praise and give some tacky response. But instead he simply shrugged, head tilting up and examining En.
The man felt older than Daphne, but while grey streaks flanked his hair there didn’t seem to be any other visible signs of old age. He was stout and thick-limbed, but not at all flabby, and his toned jaw dipped squarely under an expression of polite patience.
But there was something else there too. Something unsettling. Red felt it more than he saw it, and after failing to find any sign to prove the instinct he just settled for giving the man a look of blank displeasure.
Silence stretched out among the group for just long enough to become awkward. Then Daphne coughed and gestured towards En. "The director tells me that the ritual only barely avoided reaching the midwest. A few more hours could've been even more devastating. Now, there'll be shortages for some time, but things'll bounce back by next year. Especially with the RC's help."
En bowed his head. "We don't often appeal to the government, but I'm sure the chairman will agree this is an extraordinary case. A few subsidies on our behalf would save plenty of families who won't profit from their expected harvest."
Clover shook her head, arms crossed. "I'm still just hung up on how one Talisman could do something like this..."
"The Crown of Thorns is very powerful," En agreed. "In containment now, and under examination. It seems like it's been modified in some way, though it's impossible to tell how. Or more importantly, by who."
"Can't Harmony or any of the other Coincilmembers tell you?" Malcolm asked.
En sighed then, reaching up to stroke his graying beard. "We questioned them, of course, and the name they gave is one we're already aware of. Prometheus."
Red looked away, eyes half-lidded in apparent disinterest, but the others all frowned, considering.
"An alias?" Malcolm asked.
"Undoubtedly," En said. "A skilled Artificer. Certainly the most skilled I've ever come across. Talismans sometimes circulate the black market, but the rare few that work on this scale are always attached to Prometheus."
He sighed again, hands coming to rest behind his back. "From what we can guess, Prometheus is independent and probably a man, though there's not much evidence for anything beyond that. A decade of investigation hasn't gotten us one step closer."
Another bout of silence followed, but En, looking at their downcast faces, gave them a soft smile. "Well, don't worry too much. You've all done enough already, and the Enforcement Bureau can take it from here."
They nodded, relieved. Not that anyone had really expected otherwise, but after the last couple of days it was nice to take it easy.
For Malcolm, that relief only lasted a few moments. He'd already made his rounds, and though the Greenkin he asked for details hadn't been thrilled to share he had gotten enough out of them to confirm his suspicions. All he had left to do now was make it official, and there wasn't anyone more official than the man standing before him. "En, listen. There's something I need to ask you... about my mom."
En blinked, seemingly surprised, and met Malcolm's determined stare. "Mara? Why, have you found any new clues?"
"Yeah." Malcolm glanced around at the others, eyes tripping on Dimple. "And I think I'd appreciate some privacy... No offense, guys."
Clover was the first to respond. "We should probably check on the other Scouts anyway," she said, pulling on Daphne's arm. "Make sure everyone's ready to go. The bus should be coming soon, right?"
"Right." Daphne let herself get pulled away, stopping only to turn toward Red and Dimple. "And you two? Want to join us?"
Red shrugged, as amenable to the idea as any other, but Dimple shook his head. Clearly nervous, the minotaur nevertheless set as hard a face as he could manage and looked to En.
"Actually, I was hoping to talk to my uncle before you... before you took him away." He lasted a few seconds, then gulped and glanced away. "Uh, if that's okay with you."
"I have no issue with it," En said, smiling. He gestured toward a row of vans along the edge of the clearing. "You'll find him in one of those, along with a man I trust keeping an eye out in case of trouble. He's a difficult one, but tell him I sent you."
Dimple's shoulders dropped, a knot of subtle tension leaving him all at once. "Thank you."
"I'll keep Bull Boy company," Red said, arms crossed. He snuck one last glance over at En before looking back at the rest. "See you guys in a bit."
They walked toward the trucks, leaving Malcolm to have his little talk. Red made to put his hands in his pockets, but the pants he'd been gifted after getting healed up some hours before didn't have any pockets, so he just crumbled and started cracking his fingers.
Pocketless pants and a green tunic, like he'd been sent back a few hundred centuries. It was the only change of clothes he now owned, too. Saving the world had sure done a number on his wardrobe.
"Do you have some problem with Director En?" Dimple asked. They passed a few Cleaners, so the minotaur kept his voice low. "You're being weird."
"Never seen the guy before," Red muttered, wrinkling his nose. "But something about that guy just gives me the creeps. He stinks."
"I didn't smell anything."
"You don't have to smell bad to stink."
Another patented bit of nonsense words from a boy who seemed full of them, but then again Dimple had learned to trust Red's strange intuitions. He supposed it wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on the Director, at least until the man and the Cleaners all left.
When they got to the clearing's edge, a man in a suit stopped them. Unlike the Cleaners, his suit was a deep navy blue, and a gold badge clung to his chest. It glimmered in the early sunlight, a pair of crossed swords over a small inlaid sphere.
"That's far enough, you two," he said, holding up a hand.
Red looked him up and down. Pure black sunglasses matched the pure black of the man's slicked pompadour, and though his thick lips were pursed and his brow was deeply furrowed it was somehow hard to take him very seriously.
At least, it was hard for Red. Dimple, on the other hand, took a nervous step back, wide eyes zeroed in on the man's badge. "An actual Enforcer!"
"Huh?" Red glanced at the badge, then at the man's bulbous face, then over at the other suited people walking around. "What's the big deal, aren't these guys all Enforcers?"
Dimple leaned close, whispering. "They're Cleaners. You know, they clean up. This is—"
"I," the man said, drawing out the word, "am the one who gets sent after Rangers like you if you ever go rogue. Now, back it up."
Dimple seemed ready to do just that, but Red only crossed his arms. "Your boss said we could be here."
The man's demeanor changed in an instant. His face paled a ghastly white, his furrowed brow pulled up anxiously, and his pursed lips popped open in a silent "oh."
"D-Director En did?!" he said, hands waving around incomprehensibly. "Oh, okay... yes!" He stepped aside, presenting some invisible red carpet for them and even bowing slightly. "Here you are! I apologize!"
The change was so sudden that neither Dimple or Red moved, instead glancing sideways at each other. The man must've been at least twenty years older than them but now seemed to shrink at their presence.
"Y'know, I keep hearing about how big a deal Enforcers are," Red said, "but you're really not living up to the hype at all..."
At this, the man's voice regained its confidence. "Becoming an Enforcer is the greatest milestone a Ranger could reach! It's the highest of achievements! But admittedly..." Now his voice withered once more, coming out in a shameful whisper. "Admittedly, it's an achievement I'm still working towards. I'm a mere rookie, you see. Just a recruit still in training..."
Red looked him over. "So, what's with the getup?"
"I am, ah, an excitable rookie."
One with a great tailor, apparently. Red, now feeling a bit sorry for the guy, went over and patted his back. "Hey man, no worries. I'm sure you'll be the real thing one day."
The man bowed his head lower. "I truly appreciate it..."
"Uh-huh." Red patted the man's back again, then at Dimple and gestured with his head towards the row of vans. "Well, it was nice meeting you, mister."
"Please, call me Agent Linker."
"Right." What a weirdo.
Red and Dimple left the bowing recruit. There were far fewer Cleaners this close to the vans, and added to Linker's sole guardianship of them it spoke to either foolishness or complete confidence that their prisoners would not escape. There were four vans, all of them large and made of what looked like reinforced steel, and when they reached the first Red and Dimple both looked through the small, barred window at the back.
Inside they saw Lorcana and Jahdiel, both still donning their ripped and muddied blue guard togas, sitting on parallel benches at either side of the van's interior and silently facing each other. Their wrists were bound by oval, disc-shaped cuffs that Red had been told were meant to temper Spirit, though he didn't really understand what that meant beyond the fact that even the strongest prisoners hadn't been able to break out of them.
The single beam of light that came through the barred window disappeared once Red and Dimple peeked in, announcing their presence. Lorcana looked up at them, gazed at Dimple, gazed longer at Red, then looked placidly back down on the van's floor.
Jahdiel wasn't nearly as gracious. "The human and the traitor," he said, glaring at them, eyes glinting in the dark. His burns had been mostly healed, but his skin still colored red and his head was distinctly bald. "Come here to gloat?"
Dimple saddened at the words. Noting that, Red scowled back at the elf. "Like you wouldn't do the same exact thing, jerk."
Glare deepening, Jahdiel made to talk back, but then Lorcana's voice came.
"That's enough," she said. The beastwoman didn't look up at anyone as she said it, staring tiredly down. "There's nothing more pathetic, Jahdiel, than the bark of a beaten dog."
The elf flinched at her tone, at once soft and stern. Still, message received. Jahdiel shot the two outside one last disgusted glare, then looked away. Red and Dimple stuck around a bit longer, waiting, but when no more words were said they carried on.
The next van held Silviamon. Looking in, Red saw that all four of his arms were bound like the others, and more than that, a thick metal blindfold had been wrapped around his head to cover his eyes.
"Who's there?" Silviamon asked, head raised and turning about. His voice echoed in the enclosed space. "Hello?"
Silently, Dimple grabbed Red's arm and pulled the boy on, leaving the forest demon to shout at nothing.
Looking in the next van, Dimple bit back a yelp. Red followed him and saw Harmony's lithe figure sitting there on one of the benches, milky skin and yellow hair stark against the shade.
What little noise they made must've reached Harmony's ears. The fairy glanced over, barely turning their face, yellow eyes examining, glowing in the dark.
"... I suppose I should congratulate you," they said said. "You defeated me. Not an easy accomplishment."
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Red frowned. "You're seriously talking yourself up now?"
Slowly, a strange crackling sound came from the van. It was low, almost a whisper, but Red realized all at once that Harmony was actually chuckling, their monotone voice clashing against some twisted joy. Dimple looked just as surprised, and the two stood in stunned silence until eventually the fairy's humor abated.
"So, what will you do now?" Harmony asked.
Red grumbled and glanced at Dimple, who took a second to notice that the fairy was looking at him. "M-Me?"
"Your human friend is a simpleminded fellow, so I do not expect him to care much. But you should care about the future of the Greenkin. Your side won, so what will you do?"
Dimple answered with silence, and after a long moment of it Harmony chuckled again.
"You have no idea?" Harmony asked. "Why fight me, then?"
"What you were doing was wrong," Dimple said.
"What we were doing was something." Harmony stood. It was not sudden—graceful and flowing, their body simply rose from the van's bench. Still, Dimple recoiled a step from the barred window. "It was no perfect solution, but it was a solution."
Harmony advanced towards the window until finally they stood just a breath away from the opening, wrists bound. "I am sure you feel relief. I am sure you think everything can simply go back to normal. And you are right. Things will go back to normal." Even from behind the bars their presence loomed, eyes boring down on Dimple, voice growing harsher with each word. "But in case you have forgotten, normal is not good enough. Normal does not save us. Forests will continue to burn, and Greenkin will die along with them, because the humans will not stop unless somebody stops them."
Dimple took another step back, and Red now grabbed his shoulder in support. The boy looked up at Harmony with mild anger, and the fairy's eyes flickered to him.
Sighing, Harmony turned around. They walked back to their seat, taking it as gracefully as they'd left it. "Do not be mistaken, child," they said, eyes closing. "The problem persists. If you think otherwise, you are a fool. Remember that. Now, leave me be."
It was Red's turn to pull Dimple away. The minotaur let himself get led, staring down silently at his steps, unsettled and thoughtful.
"Don't listen to the trash talk," Red said, glancing his way. "It's all just bullshit."
Dimple shook his head, but whatever he was thinking he left unsaid as they stopped before the last van.
A hairless giant sat on the interior's floor, its benches too small for his great body. Like Jahdiel, Alexander had been healed, though looking at him now Dimple still couldn't abandon the image of his uncle's body burned to charcoal.
The younger minotaur grabbed the van window's bars, leaning close. "Uncle Alex?"
Raising his head, Alexander blinked at the sight of his nephew. "Joseph... What are you doing here, boy?"
"I wanted to see you again. How... How long do you think they'll keep you?"
Alexander smiled grimly at that. "It's no small thing we tried, nephew. I imagine they'll keep me for the rest of my miserable life."
Dimple closed his eyes, sucking in air. Red closed his eyes too, not too sorry for Alexander but sorry enough for his friend. He crossed his arms and leaned against the van, content to just listen.
"I'm sorry about what happened," Dimple said. "Letting you get burned..."
Alexander shrugged. "A battle is a battle. It hurt, but we do what we must to win, and I won't begrudge you that."
His reassurance got a smile out of Dimple, though it was slight and didn't last very long. The younger minotaur frowned, considering, then hesitantly asked what he'd been dreading to ask.
"Do you begrudge me... us, for winning?" Seeing Alexander's bemused frown, Dimple clarified in a rush of words. "Harmony does. They said all we did was get things back to normal, but normal isn't good enough. And I think... I think they're right."
Alexander looked down at his bound hands. His cuffs were much wider than everyone else's Dimple noted, and much thicker. Anything less would've let him break out through sheer physical strength alone, Spirit be damned.
"You defeat us only to immediately reconsider?" Alexander said.
Dimple grimaced, but his uncle only laughed. It was a long, bellowing laugh that bounced around in the van, and even Red had to grin at hearing it.
"Before, it would have angered me to hear you say that," Alexander said, laugh receding into a lumbering chuckle. "But now... Oh, nephew. I suppose I have come to appreciate that about you..."
"What do you mean?" Dimple said, stammering with embarrassment.
"What I mean is that, despite what Harmony might think, we were not right. Or, at least we were not wise. You said it yourself that the repercussions would have been war between Greenkin and humans." Alexander waited for Dimple's nod, then sighed. "We would have lost such a war. Strategically, our plan would have simply failed. The humans are too powerful, too organized. We were defeated by a smattering of Scouts and a few stray Rangers. We couldn't even join together within our own ranks. Had the humans come in full force, they would have destroyed us, if we did not destroy ourselves before they could. You were right, Joseph. You were right. What we tried to do... It was like an ant spitting in the face of an elephant."
The minotaur smiled ruefully. "And yet we did not consider the consequences. Could not. We were blinded by spite and anger, and most of all... Most of all, we were blinded by our certainty that what we did was justified. We were too sure. Too overconfident."
His eyes wrinkled now, looking at Dimple behind the van bars. "But you, nephew... You are not certain of anything. It takes you time to make decisions. Perhaps... perhaps we needed someone to make us reconsider." He shook his head. "I always thought we needed fighters like me to protect the weak. I still think so. But now... Now I think we need people like you too. People who will fight to protect us from ourselves."
"But we need an answer," Dimple stressed. "We need to do something!"
"Then do it," Alexander said, and smiled at his befuddlement. "Think long and hard, and question yourself at every step. I believe that, when you do decide, you'll make the right choice. So no, Joseph. I do not begrudge you. I am proud of you. And I know your parents would be proud too."
Alexander looked Dimple in the eyes when he said it, and Dimple looked back, and both minotaurs beamed, and for the first time in all the years they had known each other both felt something tying them together beyond just blood. Red stood leaning on the van and grinned himself, captured in their warmth.
"Thank you," Dimple eventually said, wiping at one eye. "And also, I love you. And goodbye. And... I hope we meet again. Somehow."
"Me too, nephew," Alexander said, voice hoarse. "Me too..."
Red and Dimple left shortly after, aiming for the World Tree's entrance. Both smiled softly to themselves, comfortable in the silence of their crunching footsteps and the buzz of Cleaners walking to and fro.
"So," Red said, hands twining behind his head," you really don't know what you'll do now?"
"No," Dimple said, and it didn't seem to bother him. "What about you?"
Red looked up at the sky, staring at the sun rays that slipped in thick beams through the World Tree's great canopy. He gave a long hum, thinking, and eventually shrugged. "I'll just keep doing what I've always done. Keep moving and have fun."
"That does sound like you," Dimple said. Then, after a beat, his smile widened. "And... That does give me an idea..."
- - - — MKII — - - -
Malcolm stood with Clover in the entrance chamber, looking over all the Cleaners and Greenkin who bustled about. Specifically, they looked at the ones being directed by Daphne several yards away.
The dark-skinned woman walked backwards, hands waving, as several dozen people worked to carry the broken head of Halcyon out through the exit. The great flower's petals were already shriveling, greyed and yellowed, though a mass of fireflies still swirled around the hardening nectar that still clung to it.
"We'll have to cut down the whole thing," Clover said, nodding at the stem that still climbed out through the ceiling. "It'll be a pain, but better than leaving it to rot in here."
Malcolm heard the sadness in her voice. "It was beautiful," he said, trying not to sound too awkward.
"It was. And finding another one will be hard. Granadine seeds don't just grow on trees, you know." They shared a wry smile, then Clover nudged him with her elbow. "So? What did the director tell you?"
"Nothing much. Just another clue." Malcolm sighed. "En said he'd add it to the case. Maybe it'll help his detectives figure something out."
"At least now you know what ended up happening to your mom."
"Now all that's left is figuring out why." Malcolm clicked his tongue, then changed the subject. "Anyway, you sure about sticking around?"
Clover nodded, smiling gently. "My mom's the last one left on the Council, and it's gonna take a lot of work to get a handle on the ELD after all this. Least I could do is help her out."
"We'll miss you back home."
"Aw, will you?" She hugged him, tall enough to put her chin on his head, and only tightened her embrace when he grumbled. "I won't be long, Mal. Make sure you tell that to the rest, especially Kit. That poor girl is just lost without me."
That reminded Malcolm of the ring in his pocket. He'd need to have a talk with her about it, though he doubted she'd share much. How to crack that particular egg was anyone's guess.
Before he could think too deeply about it, a shout came from the entrance. Sam stood at the great opening, arms waving first at them and then at the other Scouts nearby. He'd been driven back by the Enforcement Bureau after contacting them, and despite the hours of jogging seemed the most well-rested out of all of them. So much so that his voice rang clear in the clamor of the Cleaners.
"The bus is here!" he shouted. "Time to go, guys!"
"It's about time," Malcom muttered.
Clover let him go after one final squeeze. "C'mon, I'll walk you out." She looked around then, frowning. "Hey, where's Red?"
"I don't think he ever came back in."
They walked outside, looking for their fellow Ranger. It was hard to spot anyone among all the Cleaners, not to mention the crowd of Scouts all coming out of the Tree at the same time. The bus sat parked in the clearing, almost an identical copy of the Greyhound that had taken them there, and their peers all went straight to it. Luckily, all their luggage had somehow been left at the stables throughout the whole weekend, their exit had just been a matter of piling their stuff up near the entrance and waiting for transportation.
Speaking of the stables, that's where Clover and Malcolm found Red. The boy stood just outside with Jenny, and waved at them as they drew near.
Jenny, frowning, sighed with relief at the sight of them. "Thank goodness you're here. Please talk this doofus out of it."
"This doofus?" Malcolm said, pointing a thumb at Red.
The boy flipped him off, and Jenny just shook her head. "No, I mean that one," she said, gesturing into the stables.
Just then Dimple came out, pulling Bessie out by the reins behind him. The minotaur perked up when he saw Malcolm and Clover, though his smile seemed at least half a grimace.
"What's going on?" Clover asked, hands on her hips.
"I'm, er..." Dimple scratched the back of his head. "Well, I'm leaving."
"Oh. Where to?"
"I'm not sure yet, honestly... Definitely going south, though."
"See what I mean?" Jenny asked, exasperated. "Doofus."
"I'll ask Daphne to let me take Bessie here," Dimple said, and the snail mewed at hearing her name. "And ask for some supplies. You know, food and stuff. I'll be fine, really."
"Don't tell me he talked you into this," Malcolm said, shooting Red a scowl.
Red flipped him off a second time, and now did it with both hands, but Dimple shook his head with an awkward laugh. "No, I decided on my own." Seeing that everyone except Red seemed some degree of perturbed, he sighed. "Look, I know it seems sudden, but hear me out, alright?"
The others shared a glance, and Jenny crossed her arms, leaning on one leg. "Let's hear it, then."
Dimple took a deep breath, then looked back at them with a crooked smile. "We did something important when we stopped Harmony and the Council. It was the right thing to do. But... I think they were right about one thing." He held out a single finger, pointing it up. "The ELD isn't enough. It does good work, but there needs to be more. I'm... I'm not sure what that more is, but I know it has to come from somewhere else."
Jenny still scowled, though not as harshly, and while Malcolm still looked bemused Clover at least seemed to consider his words. Red just rubbed his chin sagely, trying to show support for the minotaur even as all of it went over his head.
"I want to see what the human world is like with my own two eyes," Dimple said. "I need to learn what the problem really is. And then, maybe I'll know how to deal with it." He shrugged, smile shy. "We need to understand each other, or else nothing we try will ever really work. At least, that's what I think."
Clover smiled, Malcolm nodded, and even Jenny could only grumble a complaint. "I still think it's dangerous for you to go out there all by yourself..."
Red raised a brow at that, looking at her with genuine confusion. "Why don't you just go with him, then?"
Jenny's green skin lit up in a blush, and Clover had to laugh at it. "I'm not even gonna dignify that with a response," the dryad said, turning decidedly away.
Dimple shared her embarrassment but had the grace to not look at her. Instead, he tried giving the humans his most confident smile. "You guys should go. The bus is gonna leave without you."
Malcolm glanced behind, seeing that most of the Scouts had already climbed onto the vehicle. Cursing, he glanced back at Dimple and gave the minotaur a respectful nod.
"Good luck on your trip," he said, then looked at Red. "Alright, let's go, dude."
Red nodded, about to do just that, but then Dimple thrust a hand forward. After a moment, the boy took it tightly and shook.
"I wanted to thank you," Dimple said. "So, thanks. For everything."
"No problem," Red said. "I mean, we're buddies, right?"
They'd only known each other for a couple of days, and who knew when they'd next meet. But still, looking at him, Dimple wanted to save this moment. He didn't know what lay ahead, and knew he'd never be as sure of anything as he'd always wanted to be, but now, here, he made a decision he knew was right.
"Yeah," he said, and the two shared a grin. "Buddies."
- - - — MKII — - - -
En sighed, letting himself sink into the backseat cushion of the car. A whole day of ordering people around was fun, but also tiring, and all he really wanted now was a cup of bourbon in his hand and a remote on the other. He was still halfway through his second pass at The Sopranos, and it was honestly all he'd been thinking about since the night before. The remaining Cleaners could take care of the rest, much as there was to deal with in the absolute mess the ELD had made.
Still, he had another few hours on the road. More than that, his work wasn't quite done yet.
The car slowed down as En knew it would. When it came to a stop, the tinted screen in front of him rolled down and his chauffeur looked back at him from the driver's seat.
"Sir," the man said, professional as always. "There's a man on the road."
"Nothing to worry about, Farlough," En said, closing his eyes sleepily. "Let him in."
Some seconds passed. En heard the door on his right open and then, after a momentary shuffling, close shut.
"Keep driving, Farlough. And some privacy, please."
En heard the screen roll back up with a low squeal. He waited another few seconds, breathing calmly, and then, head turning to his visitor, finally opened his eyes.
A cloaked man sat there, wide-brimmed hat lying on his lap and, En was sure, a mild scowl behind his sunglasses. His grizzled jaw set, he looked back at the director with clear impatience.
"Douglas, my friend," En said, smiling wanly. "I've been waiting to hear from you."
"When you told me to come out here, I expected you'd show up a lil' sooner," Douglas said. "I had'ta sleep outside in the middle of a storm."
"I'm sure that was no issue for you." A beat of silence. "I ran into your son, you know."
"Hm. Which?"
"Malcolm."
"Ah. The boring one."
En hummed. "You think? He strikes me as an upstanding young man."
"Exactly." Douglas started bouncing his leg. "Can we please not do the usual run-around? Just tell me what ya want, En."
En held up a pacifying hand. "I wanted to know what you thought about what happened here. I'm sure you must've found out by now."
"Harmony went for the big time an' got rocked," Douglas said, shrugging. "Seems pretty straightforward."
"Is it now..."
Douglas stared at En, and En stared back. Then, with a sigh, Douglas bent forward, cradling his face.
"You're kiddin' me," he said, chuckling. "You were seriously behind all that? How? Since when?"
"Since ten years ago," En said, briefly sharing in his merriment. Then, he sucked in air. "And... Well, there's no pretty way to put this, so I'll just say it."
"What?" Douglas said, still smiling. "You thought about actually lettin' them go through with it?"
En waved that off. "Of course I thought about it, but no, that's not it. Listen, I want us to work together on something, so I'd like to start with some honesty. This will make you angry, so I'm warning you now."
Douglas raised a brow, but nodded for En to proceed. "Just spit it out, man."
"I sent Mara here to die for it."
The air turned to ice. En felt the sudden pressure like a thunderbolt that sparked all up and down his skin, and despite himself he felt some sweat bead on his forehead.
"Now, I'm sure this is quite shocking for you—"
"Ten years," Douglas said, staring down, voice stony. "Ten years. You knew. You caused it."
"That's right."
They sat in silence for a while more, and then Doug, still not looking at him, raised a hand. It was his gloved one, clawing at the air with each ragged breath.
"... What do ya want?" Douglas said, each word enunciated with perfect specificity. "You wouldn't have let me in here if you thought I might kill you. So tell me, why won't I?"
En forced himself not to show his relief. It would've been a hassle if Douglas had attacked, but now he knew things were smooth sailing from here on out.
"I can give you the Treasure Trove," he said.
And just like that, the air became breathable again. Douglas looked at En, and now the latter felt the sheer weight of his interest completely overcome the bloodlust.
"You sent my wife to her death," Douglas said, shaky. "You don't seriously think you can bribe me like this."
En tutted. "Douglas, please. I know I can bribe you like this. Now, do you want to hear it or not?"
Douglas did some more useless grousing, but eventually En got him on board. It wasn't very hard, in the end. Greed worked well on anyone, and Douglas was the greediest man En had ever known.
The whole business with the ELD had taken much time. More than En thought it would. But, it had all worked out fine, and now, after ten years, he could finally start things in earnest.