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  So now her plan was all ready.

  She'd even come up with the idea of asking for all her favorite sweets and treats, and some grown-up movies to watch on the day when everything was supposed to be happening, and had to giggle at the way Keepie agreed so easily to it all. She'd even talked him into letting her get Death on Blood Mountain, which the net said was only for kids who were at least fifteen!

  She was glad she had, though, since it wasn't 'til almost the evening that she heard some kind of truck or something arriving; and then, maybe half an hour later, two helicopters, one after the other!

  The trid had actually been a little bit creepy, and also a bit horrible, with the way all the blood would explode from their chests when the monster squeezed them; but it sure was exciting! She'd watched it twice.

  But when the helicopters arrived, she was pretty sure it was finally time to use her secret route. So she put on her new watch, got her little flashlight and dragged three chairs into her bathroom, stacking one on the other so she could reach the secret trap door in the ceiling.

  She climbed up on the chairs and pulled down the spare sheet which she'd put knots in and then tied up there, earlier. Then climbed down from the chairs and put them away. Then she lumped up some pillows and stuffed them under her blanket to make it look like she'd gotten bored and gone to bed early, just in case anyone checked on her.

  Back in her bathroom, she climbed up her “rope,” and shimmied up into the tight and dusty space, pulling the knotted sheet up behind her and sliding the secret trap door shut, making it super dark. The first thing she did then was tie a cloth around her face. Not for a disguise: just to keep the dust out of her nose and mouth. That's how bad it was.

  She turned on her flashlight then and very carefully and extra, extra quietly, started making her way across the wooden beams toward the western wall, and the unused room with the window near the drainpipe. Which was another trick she'd learned from Miss X.

  After she'd climbed outside – first checking the second-hand of her watch – the hardest bit had been reaching the next window, from the drainpipe. It sure had looked a lot closer, from the ground. Her toes reached, but then she'd had to push free of the pipe and grab real quickly at the window frame to avoid falling, and it'd actually been pretty scary when her fingers had been scrabbling on the painted wood trying to get a grip. But exciting!

  As soon as she'd gotten both feet on the sill and both hands on the join part in the middle, she'd just hung there, panting, before remembering she only had a few seconds left before the camera would swing back and see her.

  But the window slid down easily and she tumbled inside. No one ever went into the dusty old office, and she'd unlocked the window and slid it up and down lots, two days earlier.

  Out in the hallway, then, she listened. She considered sneaking back to the corner and looking around it to see if anyone was on guard in the corridor outside her room, in case they were treating her like she was a real prisoner – but decided not to risk it, in case no one was guarding it after all. That'd be pretty disappointing.

  Instead she'd gone the other way, to the room with the chute where the bots tipped the dirty sheets and clothes in to slide down to the laundry room on the ground floor. Luckily, the laundry room also had a small chimney thing that went further down, to both of the basement levels where some of the patients were kept. Probably to bring the inmates' dirty stuff up to the laundry. Uncle had said it was important for some of the inmates to be surrounded by living earth, and that was why they were kept underground.

  She wasn't sure what living earth was, but it sounded pretty cool.

  And so, perhaps twenty minutes after she'd set out, she was creeping once again through a tight and squeezy ceiling space, this time above the lower basement as she made her way toward Godsson's cell. She was pretty sure it was his, because her flashlight showed a really strangely-glistening kind of wall at one point, near the middle, plus there were some kind of worrying groans.

  They sounded like Godsson!

  They were coming from his area, too. It sounded kind of scratchy, though, like his voice was coming from a speaker.

  Super extra carefully, she slowly made her way to it. She even turned her light out when she got closer. Which was how she saw a small glow in the darkness of the roof cavity. Making her way to that, she looked down.

  There were men in the corridor below her. Their jackets said “FBI.” Three other men were there too, but they were dressed just weird, with cloaks with feathers, and wearing beads ’n stuff. It woke a dim memory that scratched and annoyed, but she couldn't work out what seemed so familiar. One of the FBI men stood close by those three. Probably three magicians, she decided. She wondered if they were the battle mages? They didn't look anything like as cool as she'd expected. She wondered where her uncle was.

  Sounds of Godsson, in torment, rose up again from below.

  And with horror, she felt the Wrongness. From the corner of her eye she saw Lily's smoothly-curving edges slip around the FBI man standing opposite Godsson's door, directly beneath her. She could feel Her coiling over him, and could almost hear the familiar voice, whispering. Encouraging.

  Tricking.

  She saw the man raise his gun, slowly, as if he'd fallen asleep. She saw he wasn't pointing it at anyone. He was pointing it at the small glass window in Godsson's cell.

  It was a very big gun.

  Godsson screamed louder, horribly, and from the way the people who could see into his room reacted, even they looked worried.

  For just a moment, she felt she saw a movement in the dark up in the ceiling cavity with her, in the dust: a familiar cruel, curving set of slicey edges in the tiny motes of dust that twisted and raced around the glistening wall. Once she'd seen that, she saw several more, all braiding together like jellyfish tentacles draping invisibly down from… somewhere, to wrap and coil around the man below.

  She saw his arm tense.

  The ceiling here in the basement was just as thin as it was up on the higher floors. Without thinking, she shoved both legs down, hard, feeling the stuff rip as she threw her weight onto it, thrilling as she plunged through, like a baby alligator smashing through its egg. With a cry like HyperGirl flying into battle with Argon she dived down onto the man under attack.

  Fingers out like talons already tensed to claw and shred and rend, to tear it from him, she imagined lasers like HyperGirl's shooting from her fingertips. Then she was on him, feeling the Wrongness wrapped around him. Growling, she tore into it, even biting at it as the man suddenly reacted, shooting.

  All at once everything was shouting and confusion. She held on desperately as the big FBI soldier spun round and around, trying to reach back to throw her off, but she dodged his arm and wriggled lower and screamed while she clung to his back and fought She who'd wrapped around him.

  She wasn't her sister, Sara realized in that moment. That had all been a trick, and she cried at the pain of the betrayal and lashed out even harder, from the depths of her heart. Someone was shouting about holding fire, Godsson screamed again, in pain or joy, she wasn't sure which this time, and other men were diving toward her. The three strange-dressed men were doing spell-y things, she saw her uncle's face white in shock, and then she felt a sleepy blanket flow over her.

  She struggled, as hard as she could, still tearing into the last wisps of the shocked thing now shriveling and vanishing beneath her fingers, then everything slowed right down, and she saw the ground swimming up to her in a dream.

  Chapter 15

  Something stung in her nostrils. Aching, she blinked and stretched-

  Uh oh.

  She was curled up in a leather chair in Director Sanders's office. Her uncle was closing the lid on a small bottle as he moved back from her. She sat up and saw Mr Shanahan and the three weird guys with the feathers and beads hanging off their animal skin coats. And there was a really stiff-looking man in a dark suit with medals on it. The same man who'd spoken to her uncle a
nd the Professor the other night.

  He still looked angry.

  She was absolutely filthy, she saw, but her legs where she'd scratched them going through the ceiling were undamaged. It made them look odd, with clean patches where her uncle must have healed her, then wiped the blood off. Her eyes and face felt surprisingly clean, too, she decided, as she licked her lips.

  Then froze. What if they decide to send me away? She fought down tears that suddenly welled up.

  The men looked at one another, and she wondered what they were waiting for. She looked at her uncle, letting him see how worried she was.

  They must have been waiting for her uncle, ’cause at last he squeezed his eyes shut, pinched his nose, and spoke to her. His voice was very calm.

  She sat up extra straight; even put her hands together in her lap.

  'Sara, what did you think you were doing?'

  What did she think she was doing? She knew what she'd been doing: saving Godsson, of course. But in the moment before she blurted that out, she stopped herself; and grasped for an excuse instead. 'Um. I just wanted to see what was happening.'

  'But how did you get there? We even had a guard outside your room.'

  'You did?'

  How good was that! But when she saw how the men reacted to her smile, she quickly made her expression all serious.

  'And I had explicitly told you that you had to stay in your room. You even said you-'

  He blinked, slowly, interrupting himself. 'You had planned it all out. You even left the trid playing, and made it look like you were asleep in your bed in case…. But how did you- oh. Oh!'

  Everyone looked at him, wondering what he'd just realized.

  Remembering the trickiest part, climbing through the window, she hoped he wouldn't find out about that. He'd be cross. But strangely, he seemed to be almost smiling, now.

  'How did you get out of your room?'

  Somehow, the calm look in his eye made her think he already knew the answer somehow. But if he did, why would he ask her?

  'Um.' She looked around. 'I-, um, there's a secret door in the ceiling in my bathroom. I climbed up on some chairs and tied some rope up inside, then put the chairs back.'

  They made her tell them every detail. Climbing down the drainpipe. Getting down to the basement….

  As the questioning went on, she tried to work out how much trouble she was in. Of course angry-man, the one with all the medals, looked the angriest; though he kept shooting looks at the Director as if he wanted to complain, but was scared of him. Which was silly: Director Sanders was a softy.

  Mr Shanahan looked real worried though, like he thought he might get in trouble, and she suddenly remembered how she'd found out about the one-minute sweeps of the outside cameras, and how she wasn't supposed to even be allowed into his security office; and how she'd had to get a watch so she could time it perfectly…

  She'd just have to pretend not to know any of that, she decided, and hope they'd think she'd just been lucky; and hope that Uncle's excellent guessing didn't stay excellent.

  And luckily, that's what happened; though the whole time, it seemed to her that her uncle was trying not to smile.

  Maybe she wouldn't get into too much trouble, after all?

  But when she got to the part where she was watching from up in the ceiling, the three feather-men got all interested. They all stared at her, real hard.

  '-and there was this little hole, but big enough to see the man with the really big gun outside Godsson's room-'

  'How did you know it was Godsson's room? How do you know Godsson's name?' That was one of the feather-men.

  'Um.' What could she say? They were all looking at her. That she'd learned about him in school? That she'd seen pictures of him on Mr Shanahan's- but then he'd get in trouble. 'Um.'

  'She's clearly been sent here.' That was Mr Angry with the dark suit and medals. 'Our foreign friends have been clamoring to “observe” one of Benson's episodes for years, no doubt to see what they can learn.'

  'Oh?' Director Sanders asked. 'Does that mean you've decided these costly exercises are a worthwhile expense for the tax-payer after all, Mr Smith?'

  This was like watching a ping-pong match!

  'Sara is not some foreign child-prodigy super-spy,' Uncle said.

  Sara blinked. She wasn't sure what a protajee was, but Angry-man thought she was a super-spy? Yeah! How cool was that! She tried, but couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face. Desperately, she fought it down before Mr Angry Smith looked back in her direction.

  'My questions stand.'

  That was the feather guy who'd asked her about Godsson, who was still watching her. Carefully. Um…

  'Just tell the truth, Sara,' Uncle said. 'I promise, making up lies is not something you should be doing for these gentlemen, at this time.'

  His voice was strangely encouraging, and she wondered if perhaps Keepie somehow already knew she talked to Godsson. But how could he know that?

  He nodded, and looked across at the three feather-men.

  'Um, ’cause I talk to him sometimes?'

  Everyone – except Director Sanders and her uncle, she noticed – went instantly still, like she'd just said something really amazing.

  'He speaks to you telepathically?' hissed the feather guy who'd asked her the questions.

  'I don't- I don't know that word. Sorry.'

  'In your head. He speaks to you in your head. While you are in your room?' He lurched toward her, looking like he wanted to grab her. She shrank back into her chair. 'When does he speak to you! Is he speaking to you even now?'

  'Uh, no, only when I go and visit him.'

  No one said anything.

  'I stand on a chair,' she added, to help.

  Suddenly everyone was looking at Mr Shanahan, who was shaking his head. 'No, that's not possible. I couldn't miss something like that. The EyeNet would have flagged her presence as unusual, I couldn't have missed seeing-'

  'Um, mister Shanahan, I, uh, I kind of tricked the computer.'

  Everyone turned back to her.

  Then she had to explain about Bork, and the stick, and her red toolkit, and being repair-girl. Everyone just kept staring at her. They didn't even believe her, not until Professor Sanders called up the security footage and they manually searched through to find the last time she'd visited. Then they were all saying stuff like, “My god, it's gray-flagged,” and she'd had to hide her smile.

  Mr Shanahan had looked amazed, and relieved, and Keepie – Keepie's eyes were practically sparkling. The corners of his eyes had even crinkled up!

  A bit like Professor Sanders's.

  She had the strong feeling, then, that everything really would be alright.

  And yeah, after that, things improved a lot. They were all looking at her properly now, too, like they weren't just seeing some silly girl any more. All the grown-up attention made her sit up extra straight.

  There was a bit after that where Keepie and Mr Shanahan – and especially Mr Angry – were all like, “But you could have been shot,” to her, as well as “If my agents weren't so highly trained at telling good guys from bad guys” and stuff. Though they'd all used much bigger words than that. But she just said “sorry” over and over, and tried to look it. She even made her eyes go big and round, and pushed out her bottom lip a lot. Before remembering who'd taught her to do that, and stopped doing it.

  Finally, they wanted to know why on earth she'd jumped down, since she'd been hidden?

  And so she had to explain about seeing that the man with the big gun was being tricked and was all wrapped up by Her, and how she could tell She was attacking Godsson too, from the way he was screaming. So then they all had a big argument and she was shouting at them for being so mean to Godsson and anyway she'd helped, because the FBI man was about to shoot Godsson through the window!

  They all stopped the argument when she said that – it was weird, like they just paused a trid. Then they all had to look at the security reco
rding. Watching it, it was obvious – and she totally looked like a super spy-girl for real when she jumped through the roof! She looked so fierce it even impressed her! – but they all said the man had just heard her in the ceiling and was lifting his gun up toward that, and she was all “Don't be so stupid!” but then they were all “Clearly Godsson has man-ipillated her into joining Godsson in his dis-show-tiv fantasy.” They didn't change their minds even after she'd pointed out that as soon as she'd killed the monster, Godsson had cried out real happy and then suddenly was winning his battle inside his cell. But no, they were all still like, “that's just a coincidence.”

  Even while she'd been so cross with them, though, it'd been pretty cool to learn she'd been hit by a Sleep spell by the feather guys. They'd had to use magic to stop her!

  She couldn't wait to tell Faith all about it.

  In the end, after arguing forever using all sorts of big words, they'd decided Godsson was just imagining things, and that he'd taught her to imagine the same things. How stupid was that? But Uncle told them how her talks with Godsson seemed to be good for him. Then he'd pointed out that it was all imaginary and no harm had been done, and everyone had to agree, though Mr Angry had grumbled about that.

  Even Professor Sanders said he wasn't sure it was entirely safe, though in the end he'd said 'Very well, doctor, but I'll be holding you responsible if anything unfortunate happens.'

  It wasn't clear just what they were allowing – was she allowed to keep visiting Godsson, or not? She decided it'd be better not to ask. And to keep sneaking in, even if she wasn't allowed.

  Then Mr Angry said something about a dragon. The Director answered him.

  'Mr Smith, we know the Dragon does still take an interest, from his reaction each time someone suggests relocating our problem. Or terminating it.' He looked at Mr Angry when he said that.

  But she was more interested in the talk of a dragon. A dragon! How cool was that? The Institute was the best place ever, to grow up!

  Anyway, in the end they'd all agreed that since there'd been no harm done – she'd wanted to shout at them, then, but her uncle gave her a look that warned her not to – that since there'd been no harm done, this time there wouldn't be a punishment except for being “grounded.” Which meant really having to stay in her room. For a whole week.