Three days had passed since Farnoush was allowed back. He had recovered somewhat. He could speak properly now, no longer slurring his words and spelling doomsday. We managed to pick up the slack that his absence caused. Now it was his turn to pay up.

I found him that morning putting on his work clothes.

“Sorry I’ve been off kilter,” he said. He looked ashamed. “I’m not going to stay in bed anymore. I’m ready to work.”

“Good,” I said.

“So, where’d you like me today?” He stood tall, no longer afraid, but humbled. The color had dimmed in his eyes. It made me feel guilty for what I was about to ask.

“I don’t need your strength,” I said. I sat in the bunk to the side of his. “Please, sit.”

He looked at me oddly but obeyed.

“You look grown up, Cass,” he said.

“You’ve been lead hand for a long time,” I said.

“I suppose.”

“Did you have meetings with the Werner’s often?”

He made himself more comfortable. “Yes. I go to them to talk about what we need,” he said. “Tools, equipment, et cetera. We talk about quotas too. There are other lead hands in those meetings from other parts of our operation here in the south.”

“What’s it like out there? In the real world?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve only caught glimpses. The country’s holding up quite well, all things considered. Anyways, that’s just the impression I got from overhearing conversations.”

“You’ve met a lot of Werner’s haven’t you?”

He chuckled.

“They are a very prolific family,” he said. “You wouldn’t know it from people like Sebastian or Nathan but there are quite a few Werner’s who are fiercely intelligent. Like-” He stopped. A shudder ran through his body. He seemed to shrink.

I let him continue.

“They have operations everywhere all over the globe. They’ll probably catch up to Helena Industries in a decade. And they all report back to the homestead.”

“How many Werner’s are there?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “You seem downright determined. Leaning into the lead hand role, are you? Already curious about how this place is run.”

“I’m not curious. I need to know.”

Farnoush looked uncertain.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

I left my seat and put a stub pencil and paper on Farnoush’s lap.

“I need you to write down every Werner you’ve ever met here and your knowledge of their abilities,” I said. “That is your job today.”

“Cassidy. This is…” He stared at the pencil like it was about to stab him in the stomach. “Whatever it is you are thinking of doing…”

“I’m just leaning into the job,” I said. “That’s all you need to know. And if they ask you? That would be all you can answer. The truth will protect you.”

He looked unsure, but I knew he would agree to do it. I just didn’t wait for him to say it. I joined the rest of the ‘steadhands and left him in the dorms. Farnoush would write his knowledge down because he had seen the truth about where he stood with the Werner’s.

Nothing the family did was new. Our history was rich with big eat small, and in almost every instance of subjugation, slaves outnumbered their masters. Why didn’t they simply storm the gates and take the house? Because masters were smart. They understood that people weren’t brave at heart, let alone heroic. Make people hurt long enough and the most they’d dare to wish was for things to not change—to potentially get worse. I knew because that had been me. I remembered wanting nothing more than to fetch milk every week while sharp stones cut my feet. But I had learned since. A master controlled a hundred slaves by making a few of them elites. They were the favored servants. The lead hands. A droplet of power for the parched, turning otherwise normal human beings into thirsting creatures. Farnoush knew better now, and so did I. A leader of slaves remained a slave themselves.

Evening came.

When I returned to the dorms, Farnoush had a piece of paper in his hands for me. It was dark with writing. I didn’t accept. Not yet.

“Hold onto it for now,” I said.

He seemed horrified. “You can’t make me keep this,” he said.

“Hide it somewhere then.”

“But… where are you going?”

Ken arrived with an armful of clothes. They were darkly colored and very official.

“Sir,” the big ‘steadhand said. He ignored Farnoush, his once leader.

I began to dress.

“They’ve asked me to join them for dinner,” I said.

“They’ve never let me wear a three-piece,” Farnoush said quietly. Was he envious? “Don’t trust them, Cassidy. I’ve been lead hand for years. They would do anything to anyone. The only ones safe from the Werner’s are family.”

No, not envious. Just concerned.

“I’ll be back,” I said.

I had received the invitation in the middle of the work day. Things were moving. I hoped I could keep up, because if I couldn’t, then…

“How are you feeling?”

I almost started. Lyssa had somehow snuck up on me.

“Honestly?” I said. “Scared. I don’t know if I can do this but, I feel like I need to.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Do what?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Hmm. I don’t get it.”

“I think you get more than you let on. I think you’re a liar. But that doesn’t matter. Thanks.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did,” I said. “It’s thanks to you that I realized the truth about this place, about the Werner’s and us.”

“You sound very certain.”

“I am.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

I was. I hadn’t noticed. My fingers were trembling. This wasn’t good. If I show up like this, they might reconsider trusting me. Maybe I’m not ready. Siobhan would see right through me like a bullet—

Something soft briefly pecked my cheek. My hand flew up to cover it.

“Wh-what did you do that for?” I asked. This girl really was crazy. My heart was beating like a horse’s. A haze clouded my thoughts.

“You looked like you needed it,” she said, smiling.

The haze was already clearing up. Calm returned. I felt the night’s chill settle deep in my bones, the chill that used to hurt when I had first come to this homestead. The cold was my friend—how could I have forgotten? I began the walk towards the house.

“Good luck…” She said. I couldn’t quite hear her, but her words felt like a lightning bolt, passing through my skull and charging my mind, my muscles—and yet somehow my nerves were calmed. I never knew I had it in me. Maybe I could pull this off after all.

I left the dorms and walked up the steps into the main house. I walked on the same carpet draped over the same floorboard and saw the same Werner portraits on the wall. But everything felt different. This time I wasn’t being allowed to slink by so I can indulge in books. For just one night, I was one of their own. My heart tried to throb with a thick, intoxicating pride. I crushed it down.

The Werner’s were not your friends. The Werner’s were not your friends.

They were looking to make me a favored servant. They thought to make me an addict, a thirsting creature.

An inconspicuous door opened. Out stepped a well-dressed man.

“Young Cassidy,” said the majordomo. “Right this way to the evening’s affairs.”

I followed.

“Never thought they’d let me have all this,” I said. The clothes were tight. I was used to a certain degree of motion.

“You would have to give it back,” he said, gesturing to my clothes. “The privilege, well, that’s up to you.”

“Do you think I’m ready?”

“As ready as Farnoush was.”

“I don’t know how to feel about that.”

“Good.” For a moment his stiff gait loosened. “That’s a good thing, my son. Be careful in there. Watch your every thought.”

The man believed me. I felt the sear of guilt for lying like this.

“Don’t be nervous,” he said. “Far too late now. But if you must be nervous, don’t look it. Fake confidence. Hide your uncertainty like layers of paint until you can’t ever remember being afraid.”

We stopped at a set of double doors. Music was playing. Voices rose above a murmur.

“Do you wish to be announced?” He asked.

“No. Please don’t,” I said quickly.

He shrugged and opened one of the doors quietly. I took my first step into a massive hall. Cathedral windows flanked the walls, glinting from the pyramidal chandeliers hanging from the domed ceilings. People filled the place. Most were clumped into conversing islands. Servants with trays of food and drink swam between them.

I already wanted to leave. The door clicked shut behind me. It was too late. The majordomo had not been lying.

A servant approached.

“Champagne?” He offered obsequiously.

“Um…” What did it taste like?

Someone stepped up from behind me.

“He is underage,” Siobhan said, as quiet as ever. The servant gave a quick bow and continued on his route.

“Madam Werner,” I said.

She studied me up and down. A nervous tingle coursed through my body. Images of what she could do—what I had seen her do—kept running through my mind.

“There are many Madam Werner’s,” she said. “You may call my Siobhan.”

“Of course.”

“Follow me.”

I followed her throughout the hall, past many voices, and joined many conversations. So many Werner’s in one place. This house really was the central nervous system of the empire. They were all so well dressed. Many looked normal. Others had gifts like Abe Werner’s, which were always on display, leaking ash or wispy trails of cold energy or neon static… et cetera. Every single one could probably kill with a thought. Every single one most certainly had their own self-interest in mind. Each one was wealthy, powerful, and a part of something greater.

Meanwhile the ‘steadhands were satisfied with three meals a day. They were glad to stare at the feet of a Werner so long as it wouldn’t get them hurt. I would be more frustrated if I had not been exactly like that only a little while ago. Those ravines on my back had dragged me awake.

“Cassidy,” Siobhan said. “This is Haley-Pearl.”

“Ma’am,” I said, extending a hand. She took it and shook. My fingers twitched; she was frigid.

She could have been my age, with blond hair, sky-blue eyes, and lips the color of the ocean. We might have been peers if she didn’t look at me like I was… nothing. I almost rather there was disdain or judgment, than nothing at all.

“You’re the new lead hand for this homestead?” She asked.

This homestead. Were there others?

“Yes,” I said.

“You don’t look the part,” she said.

“I’m new,” I said. “I won’t be forever.”

“Let’s hope you turn out better than the last one. Else this experiment would have to conclude unsatisfactorily.”

Experiment? I searched for answers on Siobhan’s expression. Unrevealing, as expected.

“Haley-Pearl manages Pearl Blue, a Werner diamond mine in the Antarctic,” Siobhan said. “How has it been, cousin?”

“As well as can be,” Haley-Pearl said. “The homestead is getting better after the second purge. Thank you for the advice.”

“Purge?” I asked. Two heads turned to me.

“Don’t worry,” Haley-Pearl said. The corner of her mouth lifted just a hair. “The enclosure here is quite warm. There would never be one here.”

They talked further about other matters I didn’t understand. I was too busy trying to hold it together. Siobhan took me away a few minutes later.

“Apologies,” she said. “She is only seventeen. We were all flippant at that age.”

“Is that what that was?” I said. I felt relief. It was just banter.

“Difficult environments require a tougher hand,” Siobhan said.

I changed the subject.

“So there’s more than one homestead,” I said.

“Yes. Many.”

“Are they- I mean do they live like- um…” I was stuttering. It was hard to word it delicately.

“Like the way you do?” Siobhan finished for me.

I wanted to euphemize, to say, ‘No, no that’s not what I meant. We’re treated fine here. It could always be worse.’

“Yes,” I replied.

“Good. You wanted to lie there. I’m glad you didn’t.”

Cold sweat. Instant. My skin prickled. I kept my mouth shut until Siobhan introduced me to another family member. And then another followed by another. I was learning a lot about the family structure. The more I gleaned, the lower I felt. I had well and truly sunk into this wicked web. If they ever found out what I actually wanted to do…

We stopped by a rest space away from the family gathering. A television played noise. Couches surrounded the screen, flanked by austere lamps.

“They’re all so young,” I remarked. Nearly every Werner leader I had met was less than twenty.

“Why?” Siobhan asked.

“I don’t know. It just seems like a lot of responsibility.”

“No different than them,” Siobhan said.

She was referring to the news playing on the screen. Live from New Langshir, humanoid monsters were attacking the city. I had forgotten how the big metropolises tended to look. But now I couldn’t remember them ever looking different. The big city was a patchwork of time periods. Buildings old and new and every age in between—a symptom of constant construction and deconstruction in various fiscal terms. I watched costumed humans parry the monsters. Gift clashed with gift. Energies reflected and turned away, creating new rubble, new wounds for construction firms to heal. I wondered if the Werner’s were there as well, waiting.

“Many of them are kids themselves,” Siobhan said. “Though we don’t pour our family’s blood into M.A.G.E’s chophouse. Have you forgotten how the ‘steadhands came upon our shores?”

The balmy feeling under my suit hadn’t gone away. Now a headache building. It was like storm clouds underneath my skull.

“Millions, homeless,” Siobhan said. “The government, slow to respond, slow to give aid. Bids to build cheap housing, refused in favor of more funding to superheroism. So we took you in and gave you work. Tens of thousands of you, across the world.”

I had no memory of what happened before I came here. I didn’t. Nothing happened. There was no fire. There was no fire. The sky didn’t turn black with ash.

“Werner Enterprises has always done more for the world than costumes. And we did it through the fair sale of goods and services, not by lobbying Washington for taxpayer billions to build obstacle stadiums.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I said. My head was killing me. I leaned against an armrest. My hands were shaking.

“Because a leader must be educated,” Siobhan said. “And because I believe young people deserve a second chance.”