I wait outside the small cave I had Jay
put Doctor Henderson in. The doctor worked for Station Alpha, part of
a Project designed to understand magicians – by capturing them and
examining their DNA, so in effect not understanding us at all. They
did manage to capture me at least, so I considered that a small point
in their favour. Jay and Charlie did not, and Jay decimated their
forces en route to rescuing me. Which is one reason I’ve told him
he can question the doctor; I’m listening in, but I’m not sure
Jay even notices.
“You tried to hurt Honcho,” Jay
says, voice tight with fury.
“Please. Please,” Henderson says.
There is pressure in the cave, reality
shuddering against the weight of something too big for this dimension
to contain. “Honcho is my friend,” Jay says with awful calm.
“Ah. Ah. Don’t. Please, don’t. I
have a family –.”
“Honcho is my family,” Jay screams,
his voice a roar in the air. I feel power gather, bindings shuddering
as the air screams for a moment and then it is gone, still, repaired
as Jay comes out of the cave slowly. He looks like an ordinary pale
boy of about eleven, but his usual irrepressible grin is gone and he
walks slowly over to me.
“Kiddo.”
“I wasn’t being jaysome,” he says
in a small voice, staring down at his bare feet.
“No. No, you weren’t. You can’t
afford to get angry like I do, Jay. Not like people can.” I reach
over and gently raise his chin as he sniffs. “You can’t let fear
or hate drive you, not toward actions or away from them. Or you’ll
become something that isn’t jaysome at all.”
Jay bites into his lower lip and
manages a small nod. “I was mad.”
“I noticed. I think Henderson did
too.”
That wins a startled look, then: “That
wasn’t an oops. I meant to – to scare him. To hurt him. I don’t
like that,” he adds, softer still.
“I know. You want to make it up to
him?”
Jay is quiet at that for almost a
minute. “I don’t think he’d want to be friends with me. I hurt
him, Honcho. Even if I fix the bindings, it won’t change –.” He
hiccups.
“Even for me and
Charlie, there are things you should not do,” I say. “Henderson
wasn’t the only prisoner in the cave.”
Jay’s eyes widen
and he nods slowly.
“There
are prisons that people choose to leave inside,” I say. I think
someone said that to me once, a lifetime ago. Before I was a
magician, and before many other things as well. “But sometimes they
are good things. Honour is a prison, kindness another. Being jaysome
can be, too, but some prisons are important. Sometimes the walls we
make are all that hold us together, Jay.”
Jay sniffs, and I
brace myself as he slams into me for a hug, holding him for several
minutes. “Go. I’ll help Henderson and –.”
“No.” Jay pulls
back, straightening his shoulders. “I did this, so I’m going to
fix him.” And he turns and walks back into the cave as Henderson
lets out a shrill and barely human sound at the sight of him. Jay
flinches, lets out a pained gasp, but he keeps going.
I wait. I can do
that much, even if I can do more. Sometimes all we can do is wait and
hope others manage to find a way to open the doors of another’s
cell, especially if they have made the prison in the first place.
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