Paragon ✓

VI. Everything in its Place

I was angry with my friend,

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with a foe,

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

-The Poison Tree, William Blake

Iris took her down to 6: a low, cement-walled building giving off a heavy, greasy scent. The instant they entered the din stilled, and the faces of a hundred hungry men turned away from their breakfasts and towards them. Katia stopped in her tracks, her urge to flee stronger than ever. Iris shot her an irritated look. Katia followed her to a long counter where a plump, dark-haired lady with kind eyes supplied them each with a pile of fruit, eggs, and toast. Katia noted that it was not the same bacon, eggs, and grits that the men were eating.

"The Paragons don't eat as the mercenaries do," Iris explained, guessing her thoughts as they sat down at a long bench. "We're not as disposable." She picked up her fork and used it to point at Katia's plate. "You might not feel hungry in your snivelling state, but eat. It won't do you any good to starve yourself."

Katia looked up at Iris, fury rushing through her. She wanted to tip the plate of food over Iris' pretty head. Instead, she speared her food and forced down what might have been cardboard, trying to shut out the conversations around her.

All around her, men made lewd comments. Katia felt close to vomiting. If Iris was aware of the revolting dialogue, she was indifferent.

A sharp tingling raced down her spine, and she turned towards him. She couldn't see him at first, hidden as he was behind the other Paragons, but as they parted to take their seats at the table, he appeared. He and Apollo flanked Aldous, who was speaking with intent, gesturing with his hands, lips moving quickly. Holden's hair was newly shorn, revealing more of his face. Just like the two men beside him, every feature was even and perfect. Katia hated his face.

Something caused Holden to stop walking and glare at the mercenaries, staring silent threats in their direction. Katia watched as he lined up for food behind Apollo. The cafeteria lady patted his cheek and piled extra toast onto his plate. Holden smiled in thanks, and the woman lit up.

The others swarmed the table: Apollo and Aldous continued deep in discussion; Sam and Cass shoved piles of food into their mouths at impossible speeds; Frankie built a fortress of toast crusts and filled it with scrambled eggs, then flooded it with ketchup; Colton catapulted grapes with his fork over several tables, hitting a particularly crude mercenary in the back of the head with one.

The mercenary glanced up in confusion, and Colton grinned at Katia, who could not help but smile back. It was the first time anyone had smiled at her in any cafeteria.

Holden sat down beside her, and she could feel the warm buzz of energy that flickered between them. Katia rubbed her arm viciously, wishing it away.

"Do they know about us?" she asked softly when she finally relented to the fact that the buzzing would never go away.

Holden looked at her, surprised that she'd spoken at all. He lowered his voice and asked, "The mercenaries? Can you hear them too?"

She nodded. Katia knew that she shouldn't be able to hear the conversations all around her with perfect clarity. Something had changed in her hearing; it had seemingly improved overnight beyond normal human capacity. "They're wondering who I am... among other things."

Holden stabbed a slice of melon with unnecessary force. "They don't really know who we are. They have their theories, ranging from improbable to ridiculous."