"Abandoned. She abandoned both of us. You at the hospital as a baby, me with some so-called friends when I was five."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. I haven't seen her since and I don't want to now. If you're going after her, count me out. I'll suggest you save yourself the trip, though. She doesn't give a damn about either of us. Dumped us on strangers to save herself."
I sat there, stunned. Then I said, "Is there anyone we can go to?"
He stared at me, then laughed. "You guys really are spoiled rich kids, aren't you? When things go wrong, you don't have a clue how to save yourselves. Just run in circles looking for a grown-up to do it for you."
"Does it look like we can't save ourselves? We're free, aren't we? But our parents think we're dead."
"Good. Makes it easier to disappear. No one to come looking for you."
"I don't want to disappear. I want my parents back."
"Why? They sold you out."
"I don't believe that."
"Then you're not just a sheltered rich kid. You're a stupid one, too."
Daniel cut in. "We also need help because the Cabals have our friends."
"Then wish them well and start making new ones. They'll be fine. The St. Clouds and Nasts will take care of them. They're valuable future employees." Ash eased back on the bench. "Look. I came for my sister. I know how you guys grew up and I figure she's not going to last ten minutes on the street. I'm going to take her someplace safe. I didn't expect"--he waved at Daniel and Corey--"an entourage, but I suppose it's a package deal."
"It is," I said. "But we're not running and hiding. We can't."
"Maya can't," Daniel said. "There's a problem with skin-walkers after they start shifting."
"What?"
"One of the first subjects is the sister of the guy who gave me Cyril Mitchell's number," I said. "She's been shifting for a few years now and she's . . . brain damaged."
"From the shifts?"
"Maybe brain damaged isn't the right term. It's like she's becoming more . . . animal. All she cares about is eating and sleeping and running around the woods. Now I'm starting to shift, and . . ."
"You've noticed changes?"
"No," Daniel said. "But it's only been a week and Rafe told her it took awhile with Annie. If Maya starts reverting like that, we can't exactly take her to a hospital and ask them to fix it. We need help from the people who did this to us."
"And how the hell are you going to get that? Ask nicely?"
Silence. This was the part we hadn't worked out. Hadn't dared discuss.
I spoke first. "Ideally, we'd find someone who worked for the project--a scientist or a doctor--who has either left the St. Clouds or is willing to work against them. Which sounds like Cyril Mitchell."
"Yeah, it does. Which means you're shit outta luck. I'm not even sure he could have helped. This is . . ." A look crossed Ash's face. Something like fear. "Big."
"It's huge," Daniel said. "And I'm not letting it happen to Maya."
"So how are you going to stop it, benandanti? Put all their scientists in choke holds and use your power to persuade them to help?"
"If I have to. The better option, though . . ." He took a deep breath. "Is a truce."
"What?" Ash laughed and shook his head. "You really don't know anything about Cabals, do you?"
"No, but I'm hoping you'll fill us in. I do believe, however, that under the right circumstances, a truce is possible. For that, though, we need our parents--not because we want Mommy and Daddy to hold our hands, but because these people won't take our demands seriously. We're just kids. We need to get to our parents and let them know what's happened. Yes, maybe some joined the project voluntarily, but they didn't sign up so their kids could be taken away. If they know the truth, they can use it. Threats. Blackmail. Whatever it takes. Get the Cabals to help us on our terms."