Lynne was the exact opposite of the girl who had found me beneath the giant tree that morning.
The carefree smile was gone.
So was the lightness in her step.
She still wore the thick gray blanket someone had wrapped around her shoulders after everything was over. Both hands held it tightly beneath her chin as we walked away from the academy.
She hadn’t spoken in several minutes.
The academy behind us was still alive with activity.
Guards moved between the buildings.
Teachers spoke quietly among themselves.
Students gathered in little circles, whispering about what had happened.
Every now and then someone glanced in our direction before pretending they hadn’t.
The town below carried on as though none of it had happened.
Carriages rolled over the stone streets.
Shopkeepers propped open their windows to let the afternoon breeze inside.
The scent of fresh bread drifted from a nearby bakery.
Children laughed somewhere farther down the hill.
Everything felt unbearably normal.
Knowing Vincent had tricked Lynne into killing the man didn’t seem to make her feel any better.
Neither did knowing who the man that got crushed actually was.
His uncle.
The man who had arranged the murder of Vincent’s father.
Then killed Vincent when Vincent discovered the truth.
Everyone had explained that part to her.
None of it seemed to matter.
Usually Lynne filled every silence before it had a chance to become awkward.
That morning alone she had talked about the academy, flowers, people I hadn’t met, places I had never heard of, and probably several things I had already forgotten.
Now...
Nothing.
I kept trying to think of something helpful to say.
Nothing came.
I rubbed the back of my neck.
“So...”
Lynne didn’t look at me.
“...Ghosts are real?”
She blinked.
Then nodded.
I immediately regretted asking.
Of course ghosts were real.
One had just manipulated her into killing somebody.
“Did you know he was a ghost?”
The question escaped before I could stop it.
Lynne shook her head.
“I thought he was a student.”
Her fingers tightened around the blanket.
Wonderful.
She already felt guilty, and I had basically just asked why she hadn’t noticed the dead person was dead.
“Sorry.”
I looked away.
“That was a stupid question.”
She didn’t answer.
We walked a little farther.
I searched my mind for literally anything else.
“Well...”
Lynne finally glanced toward me.
“You did get rid of a terrifying criminal.”
Nothing.
I tried again.
“You’re basically a superhero.”
That got a reaction, but not the smile I was looking for.
She looked at me confused
“A what?”
“A superhero.”
She stared at me.
“You know...”
I gestured uselessly with my hands.
“Like Batman.”
“Bad man?”
“No.”
I laughed.
“Bat-man.”
I pointed upward.
“Like the little flying animal.”
“Oh.”
Recognition appeared on her face.
“A vampire.”
“No.”
Her eyebrows pulled together.
“Does he drink blood?”
“No.”
“Does he turn into a bat?”
“No.”
“Then why is he Bat Man?”
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
“That’s actually a fair question.”
Lynne waited.
“He dresses like a bat.”
“Why?”
“He was scared of bats when he was little.”
“So he dresses like the thing he was afraid of?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“To scare criminals.”
She considered this carefully.
“By dressing like a bat.”
“Exactly.”
A long silence followed.
“That’s very strange.”
“It makes more sense when you grow up with it.”
“Have you met him?”
“What?”
She looked completely serious.
“No.”
I laughed.
“He’s fictional.”
“Oh.”
She actually looked relieved.
“He isn’t real?”
“No.”
“He lives in a made-up city called Gotham. His real name is Bruce Wayne. His parents were rich, then someone killed them when he was a kid."
Lynne looked at me with an expression of shock and pure sympathy, like she was actually hurting for Bruce Wayne.
"Again, not real. He's a fictional character."
Lynne nodded, but the sad, sympathetic look didn’t disappear.
"After that, he was mostly raised by their butler, Alfred. When he grew up, he learned martial arts and detective stuff, then used all his money to make armor and gadgets so he could fight criminals.”
Lynne listened with surprising attention.
“Why doesn’t he use the money to help people?”
“He does.”
“I mean instead of dressing like a bat.”
I paused.
“People ask that too.”
She nodded as if this confirmed something important.
“He sounds like June.”
“Huh?”
“The girl who helped us.”
I remembered, June the girl in yellow with the disturbingly calm expression.
The way she moved like everyone else had suddenly become slow.
And the way her face changed when she saw the name on my chest.
“I guess she did beat those guys like some kind of superhero.”
Lynne looked ahead.
“She just helps people.”
Something about the way she said it made me smile.
“She doesn’t like attention?”
“Not really.”
“She disappeared pretty quickly?”
“She usually does.”
Lynne looked down.
“She was mostly raised by servants too.”
“Like Batman?”
“Yes.”
“Oh shit.”
I looked at her.
“Is she an orphan?”
Lynne shook her head.
“No. Her parents just weren’t around very much.”
“Why?”
“Their service.”
“What kind of service?”
“Her family has served the Imperial Household for generations.”
“So soldiers?”
“Sometimes.”
She thought about it.
“Guards. Soldiers. Other things.”
That explained a lot.
It did not explain why June had looked at me like I had personally offended her by existing though.
“Does she secretly dress like a bat and fight crime too?”
For the first time since leaving the academy, Lynne laughed.
It was small.
Still broken by everything that had happened.
But it was definitely a laugh.
The sound rose out of her almost like little bubbles.
I smiled.
Then she suddenly covered her mouth.
“You probably shouldn't say that around her.”
“What?”
“The bat thing.”
“Why?”
She glanced around before lowering her voice.
“People say awful things about Zhonghuanese people eating bats and other strange animals.”
“Oh.”
“I know that's not what you meant.”
Something stirred in my head.
Not a memory exactly.
More like recognizing a joke I had heard many times, but didn't know from where.
I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Yeah. I forgot people say that about China.”
Lynne looked at me.
“China?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s that?”
I laughed.
Then stopped.
She wasn’t joking.
“The country.”
“What country?”
“China.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
I stared at her.
“You’ve never heard of China?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
I pointed toward the tag still pinned to my shirt.
“I figured this name came from there.”
She leaned closer.
“Xu XiaoXing.”
She nodded.
“That’s a Zhonghuanese name.”
I didn’t recognize the word she kept using.
“It’s Chinese.”
“No.”
She shook her head again.
“Zhong Hua.”
The word felt familiar.
Like hearing an old song, but the lyrics weren’t what I remembered singing along to.
I stared ahead for a moment.
“Have you ever heard of America?”
“No.”
“England?”
She shook her head.
"But you have an English accent!"
"A what?"
I stared at her.
I could feel the utter confusion I felt painting my face.
She was speaking English, with an English accent, and she didn’t know what England was?
I’d figure that one out later.
“How about Japan?”
“No.”
“India?”
Again, she shook her head.
I stopped walking.
Lynne stopped beside me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
It definitely wasn’t nothing.
“What places are in this world?”
“Places?”
“Countries, regions, kingdoms or whatever.”
“Oh.”
She thought for a moment.
“Well, there are a lot."
"Just name a few."
"Well there's Zhonghua which has Joseon, Yamato. Um, we're in Albion."
She looked at me
"You look like you’d be from Jambudvipa. Maybe Vanga. Sindh. Bharath..."
Those names stirred something in my mind.
“Wait.”
Lynne stopped.
“Vanga? Sindh? Bharath?”
“Yes.”
“I know those words.”
She tilted her head.
“You’ve been there?”
“No.”
At least I didn’t think so.
“It’s just...”
I searched for the memory.
“Ancient.”
“What?”
“The name.”
Lynne looked confused.
“I mean they have been around for longer than Albion, but the names have always been the same.”
That somehow made me more confused.
“What is Vanga?”
“A kingdom far away to the southeast of Albion.”
“What do people from there look like?”
Lynne looked at me.
Then down at my hands.
And back at my face.
“Like you.”
I looked down.
Brown skin.
Dark hair.
Then at the name tag.
Xu XiaoXing.
Nothing about that combination seemed to make much sense.
“I’m not going to lie,” Lynne said carefully. “When I first found you, I thought you were Vangan.”
“Really?”
“Or from somewhere else in Jambudvipa.”
She hesitated.
“I hope that isn’t rude.”
I chuckled trying to hide the confusion and impending panic I was feeling from not being able to remember anything correctly.
“No, you're fine@1.”
I looked down at the name again.
Xu XiaoXing.
A name I had because I couldn’t remember my own.
I remembered Batman.
I remembered guns.
Cars.
Television.
Countries that apparently didn’t exist.
I remembered ancient names that somehow did.
But I couldn’t remember something as simple as my own name.
The knowledge in my head wasn’t completely wrong, worse, it was almost right.
Like I remembered another version of this world.
We started walking again.
For a few minutes Lynne seemed distracted by the conversation.
Then slowly...
The heaviness returned.
Her eyes fell toward the road.
Her hands tightened around the blanket again.
I tried to think of something else.
Superman?
Spider-Man?
Explaining a guy getting bitten by a radioactive spider probably wasn’t going to help.
Before I could decide, Lynne spoke.
“Do you think he had children?”
I looked at her.
“Who?”
“The man who died.”
Her voice was quieter now.
“Do you think he had children too?”
She stopped walking.
“I know what everyone said about him.”
Her breathing became uneven.
“I know what he did to Vincent.”
She swallowed.
“And Vincent’s father.”
Her eyes filled again.
“But if he had children...”
She looked down at her hands.
“...I still took their father away.”
I hadn’t thought of that.
At all.
Everyone had spent the last hour explaining why the man deserved what happened.
Lynne was worrying about people none of us even knew existed.
I tried to think of something reassuring.
Maybe he didn’t care about them.
No.
I didn’t know that.
Maybe they were better off without him.
I didn’t know that either.
Maybe he didn’t have children.
Also something I didn’t know.
Honestly...
I had no idea what to say.
So I didn’t say anything.
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her.
For a second Lynne just stood there.
Then her face pressed into my chest.
And she started crying.
I held her.
People passed us on the road.
A few looked over.
Most looked away.
I said nothing and stood there.
After a while she shook her head against me.
Then nodded.
Then shook it again.
I frowned.
“Lynne?"
She slowly pulled away.
Her eyes were red and puffy.
But she wasn’t looking at me.
She was looking just past my left shoulder.
At nothing.
At least...
Nothing I could see.
Then, somehow, she gave a tiny laugh through her tears.
“But I was still the one who did it.”
I turned around.
The road behind me was empty.
Tall grass moved along the stone wall.
Nobody stood there.
“Is someone there?”
Lynne didn’t answer me.
She kept staring at the empty space.
“Okay,” she whispered.
A pause.
Then she nodded.
Another pause.
“Tomorrow I’ll talk to her too.”
She looked like she was listening to someone.
Her brow furrowed.
Then she nodded again.
“I won’t. I promise.”
I looked behind myself one more time.
Still nothing.
“Lynne.”
She finally looked at me.
“Who are you talking to?”
Her eyes shifted back toward the empty road.
“Estelle, she knew him.”
I looked again.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
And apparently there was an entire conversation happening three feet away from me.
That was going to take some getting used to.
Lynne listened for another moment.
Then nodded.
“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
She pulled the blanket tighter around herself.
We started walking again.