Marshall rolled his eyes at Jack and said to Cym, “I’d be happy to have you as a student, Cym, and yes, I can teach you to control your powers. I did a study last century on the previous Stillbringer, so I know how to help you.”
Cym’s eyes began to tear up. He was getting so many good things all at once. After endless years of nothing, having anything good offered free of charge seemed like a fantasy. At any moment he half expected it to all be torn away when he woke up in his gussied-up prison to discover he’d just fugued out again and dreamed it all.
Cym clutched Fourteen’s jacket with both hands and gazed at him anxiously. If he had to, he would give it all up—the new friends, the glorified and mysterious title, and the promise of being able to control his powers. He could accept any of that to be nothing but an illusion, but he couldn’t give up Fourteen.
Cym knew he wouldn’t survive the loss.
“You better fucking be real,” he said, all but begging Fourteen.
“I’m very real. I promise.” Fourteen had a soft smile in his eyes, and it was just for Cym. Fourteen was going to forgive him for his idiocy. He wouldn’t be acting this way if he wasn’t, and Cym vowed then and there to become worthy of it.
“Folks, I hate to break up the joy fest here, but Hester is opting for self-deletion over there,” Jack had turned away from them to watch Hester, presumably to give them privacy, but from what Cym had gleaned from their short acquaintance, he had doubts about whether or not Jack cared about petty things like privacy.
Wait. Self-deletion? Oh shit. The red of Hester’s magic had begun to build up inside her, but instead of expanding outward like it would if she was casting a spell, it stayed in her chest, increasing in intensity.
“What?! No, I haven’t decided yet!” Cym wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to decide on something like when a family member should die, but he certainly couldn’t do it right now.
Hester was responsible for ending the lives of so many innocent people, though, and his family deserved the right to confront her. But if Cym made the decision, wouldn’t that mean he was agreeing to be the head of his family?
“Fuck you, you little shit,” Hester rasped. “I’m not staying here a second longer than I have to. If the guardians are too cowardly to do their job. I’ll do it myself.” Her essence grew brighter, and her core began to swirl.
“I can kill her for you,” Fourteen said calmly. He could have been offering to kill a spider so Cym didn’t have to.
It was kind of sweet, actually. But…
“It’s nice of you to offer, but I’d still have to decide her fate. It’s really just a choice between having you do it or Marshall.”
“I’m a better choice,” Fourteen stated immediately. A tiny line appeared between his eyebrows, and his mouth was turned down just enough for Cym to notice. “That guy can’t dodge a bullet for shit. I’ll get the job done. He’ll probably just die.”
“I won’t die.” Instead of getting upset, Marshall seemed amused.
Fourteen snorted. “Sure you won’t, princess.”
“I’ll just keep Hester alive by myself, I guess. Don’t worry about me.” Jack gave all three of them the stink-eye and began to do something with his magic that made it ripple and flow around Hester.
Cym was about to get back to freaking out about having the responsibility of being the Blaike family patriarch when Fourteen’s words sank in. “Wait. You shot Marshall?”
“Multiple times.”
“Why would you do that?” Cym couldn’t imagine a scenario where it would be necessary. Marshall was so kind and helpful. A bit arrogant, but basically decent through and through. It had been obvious after spending time inside him.
“He deserved it.”
“No, really,” Jack said through gritted teeth. “It’s no problem at all containing this amount of magic inside a person without blowing them up. Please, take your time.” Sweat beaded his forehead as he focused on whatever the hell he was doing to Hester.
Marshall didn’t respond to either Fourteen or Jack. Instead, he watched Cym calmly as he waited for him to make a decision.
“I’d be happy to take the burden of this decision off your shoulders, Cym.” Jack’s rainbow essence had begun to pulse, and his face had turned a pale shade of tan from the strain. “Just say the word.” Jack muttered something that sounded a lot like for fuck’s sake, and it was just loud enough that Cym was pretty sure he hadn’t been trying to keep Cym from hearing it.
Cym needed to stop procrastinating and make a decision before Jack had an aneurysm.
“Fine! Save her. I can’t be the only one in the family who needs closure.” Cym was painfully aware of the incredulous stares pointed at his head.
Apparently, everyone thought he was fully planning to sentence her to death on the spot and had just been waffling over it for funsies. Everyone except Fourteen. He seemed unsurprised and content to go along with whatever Cym wanted as long as he stayed glued to Fourteen.
“What the fuc-” Hester’s enraged protest was cut off by a small pop as Jack made a squishing motion and she condensed down to a small bubble of rainbow light.
Cym could see little ripples of dark red flare up for a moment before they smoothed over and the sphere became a shiny ball of happy rainbow energy. Jack tossed it into the air like a baseball, and when he caught it, it vanished on contact.
“Phew. You didn’t make that easy on me did you?” Jack wiped his forehead and heaved a sigh of relief.
“You could have just done that in the first place. You didn’t have to be so dramatic about it,” Adelle said and then punched him in the shoulder.
“Ow! Whoever said hitting like a girl was a bad thing was clearly immune to pain," Jack grumbled as he rubbed the offended area. “And I wasn’t being dramatic. Wasting magic to stuff Hester into stasis would be pointless if Cym decided he wanted me to haul her back out again for Marshall to execute her. I’m not made of magic, you know.”
Mischief filled Jack’s eyes and he turned the full force of it on Cym. “But you are. I’m pretty low on magic right now, but I’d be happy to pop Hester in and out of there all day if you’re willing to top me off.” He took a step toward Cym and held out a hand in offering and wiggled his fingers.
“No,” said a voice that definitely didn’t belong to Fourteen.
Jack looked down at the hand on his wrist in surprise. Marshall also seemed pretty surprised, considering it was his hand doing the restraining.
“Cym is exhausted. He may have an endless connection to the Source, but channeling so much of it for the first time has wiped him out.” Marshall was avoiding eye contact as he spoke, and Jack stood docile in his grasp. “If you need magic, I still have plenty from what Cym gave me earlier.”
Jack nodded mutely, and Cym gaped at him. Marshall really must be as powerful as he claimed to be able to get such a chatterbox to shut up.
“Adelle, are you good to check on survivors while I top Jack off?”
“Sure thing, boss.” Adelle gave her teammates an inscrutable look before tapping her magic and turning her attention inward.
