The rattle of hundreds of claws tapping against the ground greeted Evie as the three assassins passed through the door. As they walked up a narrow ramp and emerged onto a circular stage, her mind decoded the noise as the Skonarian equivalent of applause. Azur stood at its center, lights from every angle glimmering off her silver uniform, so bright that Evie was, momentarily, blind. Then her vision adjusted. It was like someone had turned down the room’s brightness, allowing her to see perfectly. The mask was filtering out excess light. They were in the center of a large domed amphitheater, surrounded by ascending rows packed with Skonarians. Near the platform’s edge, two tables stood on opposing sides of the stage. One table was empty, and with a gesture, Azur directed the three assassins to take their places behind it, facing her.
As Evie sat, she looked across the stage at the occupants of the other table. There were three figures, all of whom were slightly transparent. The first was a Skonarian, naked as the day it was born. Its chest was smooth, with no sign of nipples or breasts, and its pure white scales glistened in the light. A label popped into view as she looked at the Skonarian. Benso–Skonarian Emissary to the Understanding. Azur’s brother, she remembered.
Next to Benso sat a Honrad, Nej Hockja–Honrad Emissary to the Understanding. Evie shuddered at the sight of the creature. It was small compared to the other two, and even more grotesque in person, even from a distance. It sat hunched, skin loosely clinging to its bony shoulders and torso, mouth hanging slightly agape. The stage lights glistened off the greasy main of hair down its spine.
The third individual was the creature Azur had called a Blimp, and it was twice as large as the other two combined. It lay awkwardly on its rounded stomach, its face protruding over the table. Its two small flippers poked uselessly out to either side, and its tail and tentacles fanned out behind it. Evie’s mask labeled it Queen Aragonite- Blimpian Emissary to the Understanding. It looked just like photos of Blimps Evie had seen, except that it had intricate patterns dyed into the fur of its face and neck. The presence of the Blimp, who was aquatic, confirmed to Evie that the three figures were not actually in the chamber with them. She wondered if they were some kind of hologram.
“What the fuck are the emissaries doing here?” Hat whispered from her shoulder. Before Evie could respond, Azur’s voice cut them off, amplified to fill the entire chamber.
“Welcome,” she said, raising her arms and spinning slowly to address the room, “to the Weapons Ceremony introducing Season 74’s Skonarian replacement assassins on Honrad!” Around them, the clicking of claws hitting the floor grew louder, the noise making Evie’s heart flutter nervously in her chest. She grounding herself with Hat’s familiar weight on her shoulder.
“I have the great pleasure of introducing Lubanzi, Haruto, and…” Azur paused, letting the silence build before finishing, “Evie!” At Evie’s name, the clicking reached a crescendo, accented by stamping feet and yells from the audience. Azur raised her hands into the air as if conducting an orchestra, basking in the noise for a moment before slowly lowering her arms back down. At the gesture, the cacophony died out, returning the room to silence.
“A prestigious panel honors us this evening. We weren’t expecting such important individuals to take time out of their busy schedules.” Azur had a smile plastered across her face, and her showmanship was impeccable. However, as she spoke the last sentence, Evie was close enough to see the smile flicker into a grimace.
“We’re going to start with Lubanzi. For your review, Lubanzi’s origin story.”
Azur strode out of the stage’s center, taking a seat in a chair that grew next to Haruto as the surrounding lights dimmed. Above them, a section at the dome’s apex descended and flickered to life. It reminded Evie of a display in a sports arena–with multiple screens–so that everyone in the audience had a view of what was being shown. For a second, she craned her neck, trying to make out the screen above before noticing with relief that the visual was also being displayed on the tabletop in front of them. Next to her, Lubanzi stiffened.
The screen resolved into a bowling alley. A group of teenagers sat around a lane, talking and laughing in a language Evie couldn’t understand, but recognized as Afrikaans. All of them were drinking out of red solo cups, and their uncontrolled movements and slurred words made it clear they weren’t drinking water. It took Evie a moment to recognize Lubanzi in the crowd, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts.
On the screen, Lubanzi rose to take his turn. He was drunk, so much so that it took him a few tries to get to his feet. He stumbled over to the rack that held the bowling balls, pulled one off, and made an embarrassingly poor attempt to throw the ball down the lane. Behind him, his friends laughed. Lubanzi’s second attempt was, if possible, even worse, prompting a young man dressed in a blue t-shirt to make what sounded like a rude comment. The group laughed harder. Lubanzi scowled at his friend, then took a staggering step back towards his seat.
The young man in the blue t-shirt stuck his leg out. Lubanzi went sprawling onto the floor. More laughter ensued as Lubanzi struggled to get back to his feet. Blue shirt taunted Lubanzi again, and this time Lubanzi responded with an alcohol-fueled shout. Blue shirt stood unsteadily and responded, his slurred voice now also angry.
Lubanzi pushed him, and Blue shirt pushed back. It only took a moment for the pushing to dissolve into a drunken fight. Around them, their friends laughed, and a few made half-hearted attempts to break up the two young men now whaling at each other with clumsy fists.
Then, Blue shirt struck a lucky punch to Lubanzi’s eye. To Evie, it looked more like an accident than an intentional blow, but it sent Lubanzi spinning backwards. Lubanzi once again lost his footing and fell, this time landing hard against the rack holding the bowling balls. Evie winced as his head hit the metal frame hard.
Face twisted in pain and rage, Lubanzi used the rack to pull himself to his feet. One of his hands landed on a bowling ball. His fingers slipped into its grip and clamped down. He stood and spun, ball in hand, in a wild, uncoordinated circle.
CRUNCH.
Blue shirt had stepped forward and bent down, as if to see if Lubanzi was okay. The bowling ball collided with the side of his head. He dropped like a stone.
For a moment, none of their other friends reacted. Slowly, one of them crouched down, calling out to Blue shirt, nudging him to get a response. Blue shirt didn’t move. Neither did Lubanzi. Around him, his friends’ voices grew louder, more panicked. Lubanzi remained frozen in place, his confused eyes flicking between his friend and the ball still gripped in his white-knuckled hands. As his friends pulled out phones to make frantic phone calls, Lubanzi sank to his knees, dropping the bowling ball to one side as the screen faded to black.
Evie was only vaguely aware of the clattering applause that erupted all around them. She was too shocked to move. Lubanzi was rigid in the seat next to her. He stared straight ahead, jaw clenched so tightly that blood vessels in his neck and temple pulsed from the strain. She didn’t know what to think. How to feel.
Azur stood gracefully, walking back to center stage. “Lubanzi’s weapon is called a ‘bowling ball’. Does the panel vote Lubanzi, and his bowling ball, eligible for participation?”
Evie tried to focus back on the Weapons Ceremony. She would have time to work through her feelings later. At the table across from them, she watched the three individuals that made up the panel. They looked thoughtful, but in a way that felt performative. Everyone knew this was a formality, but that didn’t stop Azur’s brother, Benso, from making a show out of rubbing his chin pensively. Even the Blimp’s body language was understandable. It folded a tentacle forward and rested its chin on the end in an inadvertent parody of the Greek statue, The Thinker. The only one not putting on a show was the Honrad. The creature sat, expressionless, for a few moments before speaking first.
“The Honrad vote Lubanzi and his weapon eligible,” the Honrad said, its voice unexpectedly formal.
Benso flicked his tongue, looking annoyed that the Honrad had broken the suspense. “The Skonarians vote that Lubanzi, and his bowling ball, are eligible for participation!” Enthusiastic applause followed his words.
After another beat, a beautiful sound echoed around the chamber, coming from the Blimp. The sound reminded Evie of whale song, but higher pitched and more melodic. Evie had only a moment to appreciate the haunting beauty of the creature’s speech before subtitles popped into existence at the bottom of her field of vision, making her jump. The Blimps deem Lubanzi, and his weapon, eligible for participation.
“Blimps can’t physically articulate Common,” Hat whispered into Evie’s ear. “They have to rely on translators, like the one in your mask.” Evie nodded thoughtfully.
A movement at center stage caught Evie’s eye, and she turned her attention back to Azur. Next to the Skonarian, a pillar grew from the floor, stopping as it reached her waist. It thickened and opened, settling into the form of a pedestal on which now sat the bowling ball from the video. It was mottled blue and red, with nothing particularly notable about it.
“A bowling ball is made of hardened resin, with holes so it can be gripped and thrown,” said Azur, slowly walking in circles around the ball. “Despite its simplicity, our engineers still managed to think of a few upgrades.” The audience chuckled. “This bowling ball has undergone treatments, making it effectively indestructible. We also got approval to make its mass variable. It can go from light as a feather,” Azur spun and picked up the bowling ball, brandishing it easily over her head, “too much heavier.” She let the ball drop, and it landed on the stage with a loud thud, burying itself halfway into the floor.
“To show off the ball’s two upgrades, I’m going to need Lubanzi’s help,” Azure said, smiling coyly around her. “I’m afraid that I don’t have the necessary equipment.” She brandished her four fingered hands apologetically.
Amiya whispered into Lubanzi’s ear and jumped from his shoulder onto the table. He took a deep breath, nodded and stood stiffly. For a moment, Evie was worried he had forgotten Azur’s warning, but then Lubanzi straightened his shoulders and strode onto the stage. For the first time, Evie noticed his frame had filled out in the last two months. He looked tall and powerful, and his ebony skin contrasted beautifully against the white mask and clothing. Evie couldn’t imagine how he must be feeling, but despite that, he projected nothing but confidence. She felt a warm glow of pride spreading through her as she watched him.
Lubanzi stopped next to Azur, who leaned in and said something that only Lubanzi could hear. A second later, the pillar that had held the bowling ball rippled and produced a black glove. Lubanzi took it and put it on.
“As we have shown, this bowling ball can get quite heavy,” said Azur, her voice once again projected for everyone to hear. “To use it effectively, Lubanzi’s fingers are going to need some reinforcement. This glove will add support and strength to Lubanzi’s fingers, hand, and wrist, allowing him to throw more effectively than he would have been able to otherwise.” Lubanzi bent down and scooped up the bowling ball, spun, and hurled it out over the audience. He had spent hours working on his throwing form with his trainer, and it paid off. The ball moved so fast it was hard to see and collided against the wall of the amphitheater with a loud thwack. The wall caved inwards, catching the ball in a sizable crater, and the surrounding crowd murmured appreciatively.
“The glove contains the controls to adjust the ball’s mass. It also contains our last upgrade. It’s no good having a weapon like this if you have no method of retrieving it.” Lubanzi held up his hand and the bowling ball broke free of the wall, hurtling back to him. He deftly caught it and tucked it casually under his arm. Clattering applause erupted all around them. Lubanzi, following a gesture from Azur, strode off the stage and back down the aisle they had come in from. Amiya flew to him and landed on his shoulder just as he descended out of sight.
After the applause had died down, Azur spoke again. “Now, for your review, we present Haruto’s origin story.”
Azur moved off the stage and the lights once again dimmed. Haruto appeared on the screen, standing in what Evie recognized as a konbini, a Japanese convenience store. Haruto paced back and forth, his forehead creased. His phone rang, and he snatched it up, answering “Moshi moshi,” the standard Japanese greeting when answering a phone. A panicked female voice replied in Japanese, loud enough for Evie to make out the words.
“He knows. Our neighbor saw us loading the car and tipped him off. He said if we leave, he’s going to kill me. Haruto, he’s coming back, he’ll be here any second. I don’t know what to do.”
“Get out of there now, Chiyo.” Haruto’s voice remained calm, even as he pushed his way to the store’s doorway. “Get Akari in the car and get out of there. Forget about everything else. I’m three minutes away. I will be there as fast as I can.”
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There was silence on the line for a second, then the woman responded. “Okay. Please hurry.” The line went dead.
Haruto bolted from the store. Parked next to the door was a sleek black motorcycle with “Kawasaki” and “Ninja” stamped on the side in large, white English letters. Haruto slung a leg over it, jammed a key into the ignition, and took off down the road with a screech. He drove out of the small city center, hopping curbs and cutting off cars and pedestrians in his haste. The surrounding city quickly transformed into suburbs, and the houses he rushed by gradually became larger as he entered an affluent neighborhood. He rocketed around a last corner in a turn so sharp his knee almost brushed the ground, and kept accelerating as the scene a few houses down came into view.
Two cars sat on the street in front of a large, traditional house. A little girl lay on the grass lawn, sobbing and crying out. A woman stood in the center of the lawn, struggling against a large, screaming man with his hand locked around her wrist. Evie stiffened. The man slapped the woman across the face and threw her down onto the lawn. He opened his mouth to yell something else, but before he could, Haruto jumped the curb and slammed straight into him. Time slowed. The man fell backwards under the motorcycle, landing in a decorative garden that bordered the lawn. His head hit a rock carving with a sickening crack. The impact sent the motorcycle lurching over Haruto still atop it, but he was lucky enough to land in the grass.
The woman, holding her face, screamed Haruto’s name. The loose cardigan she wore had slid off her shoulders, revealing arms covered in old purple bruises.
“Go.” Haruto yelled. He had a leg pinned under the motorcycle and was trying unsuccessfully to struggle free. “Now! I’m sure his friends are on their way. Go to the police and tell them everything. Keep Akari safe.”
The woman hesitated, then nodded, tears streaming down her face. She rushed to the little girl, picked her up, and ran towards one of the cars. With a last glance over her shoulder at Haruto, the woman jumped into the car, clasping the little girl tightly to her chest, and sped away.
Haruto stopped struggling. His head fell back onto the grass behind him, and he closed his eyes. The body of the other man lay nearby, unmoving. A few moments of peace passed before more cars pulled screeching up to the house. Men piled out, rushing at Haruto, as the screen once again faded to black.
Evie looked up from the screen as applause erupted around them. She felt a sudden sense of revulsion warring for dominance within her. How could anyone watch something like that and applaud? Didn’t they understand it was real? She focused on the feeling, willing it to become stronger, but it didn’t. It lingered for a moment, then slowly faded. Who was she to judge the Skonarians? They were part of The Understanding, and it made sense for them to have a different, disconnected view of violence.
Evie turned to look at Haruto, who sat still as a stone next to her. As much as she hated to admit it, his origin story was understandable, even admirable, on the surface at least. Lubanzi had killed his friend in a terrible accident. She had stabbed a man because her anger had grown out of control. Of the three of them, Haruto’s murder was by far the most justifiable. But that didn’t change his behavior towards her and Lubanzi. If anything, it made his actions more confusing.
Azur stood and walked back to center stage. “Haruto’s weapon is called a motorcycle, a 1992 Kawasaki ZX-11, as he described it to me. It’s a mode of transportation used on Earth for those who are a little less concerned about their safety. Does the panel find Haruto and his motorcycle eligible for participation?”
The panel went through the same show as they had for Lubanzi, all voting him eligible.
Evie expected the motorcycle to appear, but Azur continued speaking. “Haruto is in a unique situation. For the first time in Assassination Simulation history, we have preemptively granted a boon. He was concerned about the safety of his sister and his niece. They did not get away, and we found all three of them in the custody of her late husband’s associates. He was the only eligible candidate, and at first, refused to leave them.
“After some negotiation, we settled on a compromise. He used his boon to relocate his sister and niece, and to ensure they would be safe and supported until his return. In the event of his death, or if he fails to earn the boon, we will return them to their captors.” Azur looked directly at Haruto. “No pressure. I hope you can deliver.”
Excited murmuring surrounded them. Evie stared, shocked, at Azur. The woman stood unaffected by her terrible pronouncement. Evie looked back at Haruto with fresh eyes. The only part of him that had moved was his hands, clenching into fists under the table. His actions, though far from justified, suddenly made sense. The lives of his sister and his niece depended on him performing well. On him coming out on top of the other assassins. He wasn’t going about it rationally, but it would be hard to be rational in a situation like his. What would she have done with that kind of pressure riding on her, to put herself ahead?
A collective “ohhhh” rose around them from the audience, recapturing Evie’s attention. Emerging from the floor was Haruto’s motorcycle. It looked impressive, all sharp angles and aggressive lines. Azur took a moment to examine it before turning back to the audience.
“What an impressive machine. That didn’t stop us from making a few tweaks, though. We replaced the gas engine with a Sniffer power source and supplemental internals, making it more powerful and removing the need for fuel. It now runs in almost total silence. We have attuned it to Haruto’s biological signature, so it will turn on when he mounts it, and only he can ride it. The tires are now made from a Sniffer-engineered polymer, which won’t wear down, and will adjust to different terrains.”
At a gesture from Azur, Haruto, without hesitation, rose and strode onto the stage. He exuded power, his normally impressive muscles enhanced by the scales painted around them, glittering in the light. He looked dangerous, an effect only emphasized by the uncanny mask covering his face, and his sullen, red-eyed producer on his shoulder.
Haruto ignored Azur and went straight to his bike. He touched the handlebars almost lovingly and ran his hand over the leather seat.
“This has the potential to be a devastating weapon,” Azur continued. “But it has one major drawback. Its size makes it, at times, inconvenient. Our first upgrade addresses this issue.” Azur reached down and pulled something off of the bike, holding it up for everyone to see. It looked like a small black wrist cuff. She flicked it, and in a blink the motorcycle seemed to fold into itself, until it was nothing but a small, black shield roughly the size and shape of a police badge. Before it hit the ground, Azur flicked the cuff again, and the bike folded back out.
“That upgrade is pretty par for the course,” Hat whispered into Evie’s ear. “Vehicular weapons are common, and they almost always come with a storage method. It’s hard to be sneaky while lugging around something that big.”
“Our final upgrade,” Azur’s voice cut Hat off, “Is the most exciting one. Motorcycles have an advantage over other vehicles: their mobility. We thought it would be interesting to take away some of the motorcycle’s limitations and see just how mobile it can be. Haruto’s motorcycle can now be driven on any surface, even if it is vertical, horizontal, or upside-down.”
Haruto’s producer, Korgon, had been whispering into Haruto’s ear as Azur spoke. When she stopped, Haruto stepped forward and threw his leg over the bike. True to Azur’s words, the motorcycle came to life the second he hit the seat. He turned the accelerator as if revving the engine, but the motorcycle’s silence spoiled the effect. In front of Haruto, a thin pathway rose from the floor through the crowd, pushing Skonarians to either side as it grew above their heads, leading to the wall of the large room. The only sound as the bike took off down the pathway was the slight squealing of tires against the floor. Korgan left Haruto’s shoulder in an explosion of feathers as Haruto rocketed onto the wall. He circled the amphitheater, traveling around and around in progressively higher circles that ended with a quick loop up and over the apex of the dome. For a moment, he hung completely upside down before returning down the path back to the stage. He slid to a stop in a screech of tires, feet away from Azur, and lifted a fist in the air. The room erupted into applause around him. Then he turned and sped down the ramp after Lubanzi, Korgan following.
“What a prima donna,” Hat grumbled into Evie’s ear. “Your job is to show that motherfucker up.”
“Hat, my weapon is an umbrella. How am I supposed to do that?”
“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Hat waved his wing dismissively. “Amelia is going to do all the heavy lifting. All you need to do is look intimidating and follow her lead.”
Evie stared at the bird, trying to process the ramifications of his words.
Azur’s voice once again broke the silence. “And now, I am so excited to introduce our third assassin. For your consideration, I present Evie’s origin story.”
The screen flickered to life. Evie, beneath the mask, shut her eyes. She knew what had happened and had no desire to see it again. The sounds of a train, followed by rain and city noises, filled the room. She heard her own feet climbing the stairs, the rattle of keys, and then the man’s voice. She tried to tune it out. Tried not to hear the sounds of her killing him.
“Holy shit,” whispered Hat. “I was briefed on the details of what happened, but…. holy shit Evie.” Evie couldn’t respond. Her actions hadn’t been accidental. With only the barest provocation, she had lashed out and taken a life. Her story, contrasted against those of the other two, made her look like a savage.
Azur stood for the third, and presumably final, time, strolling back up onto the stage. Applause thundered around them, worming into Evie’s mind. “Evie, Evie, Evie,” Azur tutted, shaking her head in amusement. “What a temper.” Laughter intermingled with the applause. Competing desires tried to tare Evie apart. She wanted to smile and accept Azur’s praise. She wanted to clamp her hands over her ears and scream. Instead, she took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm.
As the applause finally died down, Azur turned to the panel. “Evie’s weapon is Earth’s version of an umbrella. Does the panel find Evie and her umbrella eligible for participation in the Assassination Simulation?”
Without hesitation, Azur’s brother, Benso, stood. “The Skonarians vote Evie and her weapon eligible,” he announced confidently, his words followed by another roar from the crowd. After a moment, the Honrad, Nej Hockja, concurred.
All attention in the room focused on the blimp, Queen Aragonite. She was taking her time, making a show of glancing between Azur and Evie. Azur stood more rigidly than a moment before. Finally, the blimp spoke in its hauntingly beautiful language, and Evie read the accompanying subtitles.
The Blimps declare Evie and her weapon… Not Eligible. We would like to cite a violation, referencing section 421 - Suddenly the subtitles blinked and went out, though the Blimp continued speaking. Outraged muttering rippled through the chamber, but Azur gestured the room back to silence. When the Blimp stopped speaking, Azur replied, no longer speaking Common. Evie recognized the language as the one Azur had spoken back in the police station, though she couldn’t understand a word of it. A tense conversation ensued between the two Skonarians and the Blimp, each in their respective languages.
Then Nej Hokja spoke in Quall, the Honrad’s native language. Evie had diligently continued to study Quall, and found she could understand a few words.
“The Honrad agree with the Skonarians. This objection is ----------. ------ 421 ------- if there is an attempt at ---------, not a lucky coincidence. You can’t ------- simply because you dislike their assassins -------------.”
Azur and her brother nodded in agreement. The blimp crossed its tentacles, looking petulant. Before any of them could say anything further, an unknown voice reverberated around the room. It was the voice of the translator Azur had used back in Singapore, but louder and seeming to come from everywhere. It spoke Common.
“We have reviewed this deadlock and have ruled Evie and her weapon eligible. Proceed.”
Azur’s expression turned smug. The Blimp threw its tentacles over its head, but didn’t continue arguing.
Turning back to the audience, Azur said, “Excellent. Where were we?”
Center stage, another pillar rose, peeling away to reveal Evie’s umbrella, furled and standing vertically on its hooked handle. Its pointed tip glinted in the light, clean of the blood that had covered it the last time she had seen it.
“Evie’s umbrella is unusual,” said Azur. “For starters, its name is Amelia.” Scattered laughter echoed around the chamber. “Amelia is designed for self-defense, which we have emphasized with our optimizations. We have replaced or reinforced most of the elements in this umbrella, making them extremely durable. The canopy is now a Sniffer engineered textile that is impenetrable to smaller projectile weapons, lasers, even low power plasma beams. However, the most interesting feature of the original umbrella was its electronics. It had an alarm system, and a small, mostly dormant computer system.”
For a moment, Evie didn’t know what Azur was talking about. Then she remembered. The umbrella had come with the option to subscribe, for a monthly fee, to an additional security service. It would have turned the umbrella’s alarm into a panic button, using a GPS locator embedded in the umbrella to pinpoint her location and automatically alert the nearest authorities. The feature wasn’t enabled in Singapore, so she hadn’t even considered it and had completely forgotten it existed until now.
Azur paused, slowly pivoting to take everyone in. The audience was hushed with suspense. “I’ll be honest with you, when we requested this optimization, we were not expecting it to be approved. Much to our surprise and delight, the Sniffers agreed that since there is an existing computer system, however simple, we could replace it with a fully autonomous artificial intelligence.”
On the stand, the Umbrella opened. The room went totally silent. The voice that came from the umbrella’s speaker echoed loudly in the silence. “Hello, Evie. My name is Amelia.” The robotic voice was female and had subtle intonations that hinted at underlying depth. A personality. Evie stared at her umbrella, slack jawed. She didn’t register Azur’s gesture to join her on the stage until Hat dug his claws painfully into her shoulder, snapping her back to the present. Slowly, she stood and walked onto the stage.
Hat hissed a reminder into her ear and she fell into a slow, deliberate gait, hoping it looked at least a little intimidating. She stopped next to the umbrella, reached out, and grasped the familiar handle, pulling it from the stand. Upon closer inspection, not much of the original umbrella remained outside of the curved wooden handle.
“Don’t do anything,” whispered Hat. “Just roll with it, and keep looking like a badass.”
“And we haven’t even gotten to the upgrades,” said Azur from beside them. “First, we decided Amelia should be able to protect Evie from more than just rain.”
The umbrella, Amelia, moved, positioning itself directly above her head. A shimmering blue force field snapped into place around them, radiating down from the umbrella’s canopy to encase Evie in a glowing blue bubble.
“This is a level two shield. For Evie’s benefit, that means that it is completely impenetrable while it’s in place. It’s limited by Amelia’s battery, so it must be used sparingly, but it should be a formidable tool.”
“Hold on,” said Amelia, quiet enough for only Evie and Hat to hear.
“The second upgrade speaks for itself.”
The shield winked out. Evie felt a slight pressure around them, and suddenly her feet lifted off the ground. It was as if she was standing on a surface that was barely there. She could tell that if she let go, she would fall, but she wasn’t holding up her own weight. Her posture remained the same as if she were simply walking through the rain. They rose steadily up into the air.
Evie tried to imagine what she must look like, and an image of a twisted Mary Poppins popped into her head. She couldn’t help it. Despite everything that she had seen and heard this evening, she threw her head back and started to laugh. As they approached the room’s apex, she reached out her free hand and took a dramatic curtsy. Above them, the ceiling opened, letting them pass through. The room below erupted in applause.