Chapter Text
None of the strangers who wound up in Circe’s palace were ever interested in talking to Stephanie. She was a child, and a girl, and tended to dress in simple dresses, so everyone always assumed she was a servant or something, sparing her no more than a passing glance when there were so many ethereally beautiful nymphs around to ogle at, not to mention the charismatic Circe who practically commanded the full focus of everyone in a room. The only visitors who ever paid Steph any attention were other magicians who had come to expect the great sorceress to be keeping an apprentice or two around. But even then, the most she had to do was mention what spells she’d been studying, throw in the fact that she was so grateful for Circe for so graciously taking her in, and then they’d move on to getting whatever they needed from Circe. Stephanie never had to worry about being the one charming the guests into a false sense of security. So when she found herself suddenly called upon to entertain some of the strangers, she was at quite a loss for what to do.
“Hi there,” one of the boys said, giving her a tentative smile when she joined them where they sat. He looked to be the oldest of the three, and given how closely they sat and how similar they looked, she figured they were all brothers. “I’m Dick. What’s your name?”
Steph cleared her throat. “Stephanie. But I like Steph better,” she added. Circe didn’t care for nicknames and the nymphs always followed her example, so no one had actually used anything but her long name since her mother died. It was only a matter of time before these boys were turned into pigs along with the rest of them men in the room, but if she had to try keeping them distracted long enough to eat a whole enchanted meal they might as well use the name she preferred.
“Steph! It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Dick said with a grin. “This is Jason, and Tim. And that guy right there is Lucius,” he said, gesturing to the man sitting on the next couch over who seemed to be actually keeping an eye on their conversation, although he was also distracted by the nymph who’d come to sit beside him. “Thank you for allowing us into your home to join you for a meal.” His gratitude sounded genuine, and that made something bitter and shameful twist up in the back of Steph’s throat.
“Guests are always welcome on Aiaiai,” Steph said after a moment, her smile thin and forced. “We hope you enjoy your meal.” Dick kept beaming at her. Steph blinked back, at a loss for what to say. How did Circe do this all the time? Right, she just identified the most important man of the group and started flirting relentlessly to keep him from questioning her motives. Then the nymphs did the same with the rest of them until everyone had eaten enough of their meal to be successfully transformed into whatever Circe felt like turning people into that day. But Stepanie was eleven, she had no idea how to flirt!
“So how’d a girl like you end up in a place like this?” the boy called Jason asked while squinting at her suspiciously.
Steph shrugged, not sure the best way to answer. Circe would expect her to effuse about the great witch’s generosity in taking her on as an apprentice, but Steph didn’t think she could stomach that kind of talk without gagging so she finally just said, “Circe decided I had potential, and well, no parents, so. Not a lot of other options.”
“Wow, us too!” the youngest one, Tim, said. “You can join our club! All of our parents our gone—well, Dick probably has—” Dick cut off whatever Tim was about to say with an elbow to his stomach before smiling at Steph again, although there was a sadness in his expression that hadn’t been there before.
“What he means to say is that we’re sorry to hear that because we know what that’s like. Each of us has lost our family.”
Steph frowned. “Wait, I thought you guys were brothers. Isn’t that King guy your father?”
The three boys exchanged glances before they all burst out laughing.
Dick snorted loudly. “No!”
“We don’t look a thing alike!” Jason chuckled.
“Yeah, he’s a little too stuck in his ways to be my father. My father was very. Changeable,” Tim added with a snicker, and Jason rolled his eyes.
“Steph has no idea what you mean by that and even if she did, it wasn’t actually clever,” Jason told him before he looked back over at Steph, his suspicion all but vanishing. “Well, that sucks about your parents but at least you seem to be doing better for yourself than any of us were. Circe and everyone here treat you right?”
The too-casual, probing nature of Jason’s question reminded Steph that these boys were strangers, and in Circe’s world, strangers were always a threat. If she said too much too honestly, who knew what would happen? Nothing good would come of it for her in the end, she was sure. The trap had already half closed around these men already, there was no point in upsetting Circe by admitting the truth of her life here. Her brittle smile snapped back into place as she fiddled with the metal band around her wrist with her other hand.
“I’m perfectly content,” she lied brightly. “I’m very lucky that Queen Circe has taken such an interest in my welfare. But please, enough about me; you should enjoy your meal before it grows cold.”
The boys exchanged looks that she couldn’t interpret but seemed to be willing to change topics. They started asking her all sorts of questions about the island, about how they got their food, what sort of visitors they’d had in the past, and other things that Steph had to evade giving any potentially alarming answers to. How did Circe do this little charade every single time and make it look so easy? Still, she thought she managed to deflect any questions that got too dangerous while keeping their suspicions from getting too high at the same time.
It was frustrating that they seemed to be more interested in talking than in eating, but Dick and Tim each took a few bites from their plates. Jason seemed reluctant to touch his food despite the nymphs pulling out all the stops to prepare an enticing and decadent feast for these visitors, and Steph was at a loss for how to remedy it. Circe would surely blame her if anything went wrong with transforming these boys. Eventually she asked him if there was something wrong with the food or perhaps something he’d like better, using her saddest and most imploring eyes, and Dick elbowed him and hissed something about ‘feeling fine’ and ‘being good guests’. Jason finally ate some of the meat Dick had plopped onto his plate, although he avoided anything vegetal and green. That was fine, Steph was sure there was enough of the herbs in the marinade for Circe’s magic to take hold, so she wouldn’t end up punished. She hoped.
Finally, after what felt like ages, the meal was finished. Circe clapped her hands together to call everyone’s attention to where she had stood up at the center of the room, looming over them all from her seat of importance. “Well! This has certainly been a pleasant evening—we thank you, kind Gothikans, for joining us for a meal and providing such stimulating conversation. And now, as promised, we shall see about helping you men find your true place in this world!”
King Bruce stood as well and smiled back at Circe—right up until she reached for her magic staff and turned it to point at him.
“Oh, fuck,” Dick breathed out.
“Damnit, I told you this was a bad plan!” Jason snapped.
“Steph? What’s going on?” Tim asked her softly. Stephanie winced, but willed herself not to look over at them while keeping her eyes fixed on the action. There was no point in forcing herself to see their looks of betrayal and hurt when they’d shortly be incapable of such expressions anyway.
“Whatever you’re about to try, I advise you to reconsider,” King Bruce warned, his hand coming up to grip the hilt of his sword. “If you make a move against us, I assure you you’ll regret it.”
Circe just smirked at him, all traces of the simpering hostess she pretended to be for these men vanishing in an instant as her true, ruthless nature came back to the forefront. “To the contrary, my dear King. After all I’ve seen and experienced in my time, I find myself fully incapable of such a useless emotion as regret. This is the end for all of you, now—Ermutatepay Orcispay!”
A deep red light burst forth from the tip of Circe’s wand and bathed the room in its burgundy glow for a moment before seeming to coalesce around each of the visiting men, who all started crying out in shock and pain. Several of them, including King Bruce, even fell to the ground as the sudden sensation of a forced transformation started ripping through their bodies.
As unsettling as it was to watch, Stephanie had been instructed not to look away. She instead turned and fixed her gaze on the nearest member of King Bruce’s crew—Lucius, the boys had said—and watched with a resigned horror as his body rippled and shifted grotesquely, shifting and stretching until man had been replaced with swine. The painful shouts and vocalizations from around the room turned into a chorus of oinks, and finally Stephanie made herself look back at the three boys she’d just shared a meal with. They had now become three piglets wriggling on the couch cushions.
“Sorry,” she whispered sadly, gulping down the rising lump in her throat as she reached out a hand to stop the smallest one, probably Tim, from falling off the couch to the ground, feeling the need to say it even if she doubted they could really understand her now. “There’s just no escaping her. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
She usually felt pity for Circe’s victims, but this time, her pity was entwined with a healthy heap of guilt, and regret. Guilt, because she’d had to distract them into a false sense of security. Regret, because while they’d been talking, she’d almost started feeling as though if things had been different, she perhaps might have been able to be… friends with these boys. They didn’t deserve this. Steph refused to believe that no matter what Circe said about the dangers of strangers.
Circe was surveilling the room now, a vicious, gloating smirk on her lips as she beheld her handiwork. “Another group of tasteless men turned into tasty swine,” she announced, satisfied. “Brilliant job with the meal as always, my daughters. And you too, Stephanie, working those brats. A reward is in order, I think. How about—”
“What in the name of Hera, Zeus, and all the Olympians did you just do to my men? To my boys?”
All eyes turned back to the center of the room, where King Bruce was pushing back up to stand using his still very human arms. All traces of geniality had vanished from his expression and he instead fixed Circe with a furious, almost frightening glower to match the deadly growl in his voice. Circe’s mouth fell open in naked shock for a moment before she narrowed her eyes and lifted her staff to point at the King again. “Ermutatepay Orcispay!” she snapped out, more forcefully than before. The spell released again, this time focused solely on the one man left in the room, but now that Steph was watching closely she could see that while it did hit him, a faint, dark green sheen appeared between his body and Circe’s magic. He winced back from the force of it, but it somehow rolled off of him. Something about him was stopping the magic from taking hold.
That was a first; Steph had never seen anyone resist Circe’s enchantment before.
“He is protected,” Circe hissed as she lowered her staff, giving up on the spell as failed and allowing it to fizzle out. “Some other magic dispels mine!” Steph’s eyes widened in shock, for she knew of very few magicians whose power could stand up to Circe’s might. Was King Bruce a powerful sorcerer in his own right? If so, why would he not have spotted the enchantment present in the meal he and his men were served?
King Bruce furrowed his brow for a moment before he reached under his neckline and pulled out a leather chord. Attached to the chord was a round, golden amulet, and when Steph concentrated she could spot the telltale shifting in the air around it that meant it had been imbued with some sort of magic. “My wife looks out for me even when I am far from her, it seems,” he murmured before letting the amulet fall back to his chest and glowering back up at Circe. “It appears your magic won’t work on me, witch,” he spat. “So for your sake, I advise you to release my men from this enchantment at once, or I shall be swift in retribution!”
Circe didn’t even blink at the threat, instead staring intently at the King’s protective amulet, her brows furrowed in concentration for a long moment before she gasped, sounding half furious and half delighted as she breathed out, “Talia."
Steph’s eyes flew wide and she couldn’t contain a gasp of her own. It couldn’t be—
King Bruce scowled. “And how do you know my wife?”
A lazy smirk curled at Circe’s lips once more as her eyes scanned the King with renewed interest. “Sweet little Talia?” she purred. “Why, I taught her everything she knows!”
—Was this hapless King who’d wandered onto Circe’s island actually married to the one former apprentice of Circe who’d ever managed to outsmart her and leave Aiaiai before finishing her studies?
Bruce was quick to cover up his shock at Circe’s pronouncement, although on the inside he was reeling. He knew Talia was well-trained in the art of magic—she’d been a respected sorceress serving in her father’s court when they’d first met, after all, and she had to have learned her skills somewhere. She seldom spoke of her studies, however, only mentioning that it had taken up the better part of her teen years and that she’d trained under multiple masters, a few nicer to her than the others, and had become well-versed in several styles and techniques, some more useful to her than the rest. Bruce had always respected her reluctance to speak much of her life before she’d joined him in Gothika, unwilling to pry into something that was difficult for her to remember, and while he stood by that decision, at the moment he couldn’t help but regret not asking for perhaps for just a tad more information on her magical tutors. Perhaps then he wouldn’t have led his men straight into a trap.
“Tell me, King Bruce, how ever did you manage it?” Circe asked him. She’d returned to her spot reclining on her couch and had bidden him to sit as well. He’d gritted his teeth at having to once more sit down with the deceitful witch to humor her farce of hospitality, but since he needed to somehow convince her to remove the enchantment on his men, he’d had no choice but to go along with it. While Bruce respected the mystic arts and wasn’t opposed to utilizing enchantments gifted to him when they proved advantageous, he could by no means call himself an expert in his own right, so unfortunately was at a loss for how to free his companions from their porcine fate without the witch’s cooperation.
“Manage what?” he growled out, clenching his jaw as he glanced around the room and did a quick headcount of the pigs that were his men who were currently grunting and squealing amongst the fine furnishings just to make sure none of them wandered off.
“Turning little Talia’s loyalties away from that father of hers.” Circe said, her lips curling up in distaste at the mention of Ra’s. Which, fair, Bruce harbored his own dislike for his father-in-law, but he doubted she was the type to be swayed by a ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ argument. “Nothing I tried could win her to me, not fully. He’d planted seeds of loyalty that had taken deep roots in her psyche and nothing I did could weed them out. Eventually I gave it up as an impossible task and let her go back to him. Had I known it could be done, I might not have given her up so quickly. What did you do? What did you say? How did you win?” she pressed, leaning forward slightly.
Bruce frowned. “I’m not sure I know what you mean. Talia left her father’s court to be with me. We’d fallen in love and wanted to wed, and because I had a duty to return to my kingdom she decided to follow me home. I certainly wasn’t trying to ‘win’ her in any way. She’s my wife, not some prize I took from Ra’s!”
Circe scoffed. “Winning and wooing are not dissimilar pursuits, and in this case it sounds as though the end result was the same. But truly, this is fascinating!” she said, her eyes raking over Bruce critically. “To think, a man as mundane as yourself could somehow earn the affections of a witch as rarely talented as Talia. Surely, there must be something I’m missing… Perhaps… Yes! It’s decided!” she grinned and clapped her hands together as she sat up straight. “I must study you further! I simply must discover what sort of quality you hold that could interest my former protegee. And as I can’t enchant you while you bear her protections, I suppose I shall have to welcome you as my guest instead. Daughters, prepare a room for King Bruce. He shall be staying!”
Bruce scowled at her. “And why should I cooperate with the person who just tricked me and my men and transformed them into swine? Without your magic, I imagine you’re no match for me. I could easily overpower you and your nymphs,” he pointed out, his hand itching to find the hilt of his sword and end this charade once and for all.
Circe chuckled and waved a hand blithely through the air. “Perhaps, but to what end? You have no men without me choosing to reverse the spell, and without them you have no way of leaving my island—or can your ship sail with no crew? I suppose you could venture out onto the island alone, but I’ll warn you now that the creatures that you’ve seen roaming the halls are the tamest of the beasts that populate these shores. Believe me, you’re far better off staying here, where your wife has made you just interesting enough for me to keep around for a time. And who knows? Perhaps if you impress me enough, I’ll take pity on those creatures you call your men and release them back to you,” she said with a shrug. She glanced down at one of the pigs that had come close to where they were sitting and wrinkled her nose. “Speaking of—daughters! Get these swine out of here, they’re sullying my banquet hall!”
Bruce gritted his teeth. He didn’t like it. He did not like it one bit, but he currently had no other viable option, so after a moment he nodded his acquiescence to the witch’s invitation. One of the nymphs stepped forward to escort him to where he would be staying. Before they left the dining room, he heard Circe command her girl, Stephanie, to take the piglets to a different pen so they wouldn’t be trampled by the rest of Bruce’s men, who were currently being rounded up and escorted out by some of the other nymphs. Bruce stole one last look at the three of them as he was led away and was grimly satisfied to see that they were squirming and wriggling enough to make themselves difficult for Stephanie to cart off—at least they weren't going quietly.
And so started one of the most frustrating phases of his journey so far. While materially speaking he was more comfortable than he had been since he had left home—indeed, Circe lavished luxury upon him to a degree far greater than even he was accustomed to as King in his own palace—he was also maddeningly powerless, and his objective of freeing his companions from Circe’s spell remained an elusive goal that he couldn’t find a way to progress towards.
He spent a portion of each day trapped in conversation with Circe as she practically interrogated him on all subjects under the sun—history, philosophy, war time strategy, seafaring, childhood anecdotes, et cetera—as well as attempted to pry more information about Talia and their relationship from him, although he was careful with what he revealed to her about that. Sometimes they played chess while they spoke, other times they walked through Circe’s leisure gardens or the menagerie that she kept full of all sorts of exotic creatures Bruce now feared were other enchanted people. But each conversation ended the same: he asked when he and his crew might be given leave, and she’d just laugh and say ‘perhaps another day’.
The remainder of his time was typically spent wandering the palace searching for potential means of escape and attempting to locate where Circe was keeping his men, or his boys, or even the girl, Stephanie, who would probably know where he could find them. He didn’t blame the girl for not warning them of Circe’s intentions—the witch Queen clearly held great power and influence over her life, and Bruce wouldn’t be surprised if she had as few choices as he did at the moment. He wanted to tell her that, because she’d looked very distraught that night and he didn’t like the idea of her blaming herself, and he also hoped to learn more about what had led her here, what was keeping her here, and perhaps how they might all get away. If she wanted to get away, that was.
Bruce never ended up finding her. Instead, four nights into his forced residency in Circe’s palace, she found him. And she wasn’t alone.
“Psst. Psst!” Bruce had just returned to his assigned chambers following another uncomfortable dinner spent alone with Circe when he heard loud hissing calling for his attention from outside one of the large windows that opened up onto the gardens. He hurried over with a frown and peered out, but saw no sign of anyone, until someone cleared their throat and he followed the sound down, where he saw—
“Tim!”
He’d scooped up the young shapeshifter in an instant, pulling him in for a tight hug as he gasped in relief at seeing the boy again—as a boy, not a piglet. “Timmy, I was so worried! Thank the gods you’re ok, you got free! Are your brothers with you?”
Tim started wiggling in his grip and Bruce got the message, setting him gently back on the ground but keeping one hand set on his small shoulder, unwilling to give up all physical contact just yet. He quickly scanned the boy for any new injuries or signs of mistreatment, and was gratified to find none.
Tim smiled brightly and started talking quickly, hardly seeming to breath during the rush of words that spilled out. “Hi, Bruce! Guess what apparently being a shapeshifter means that I can get around when a sorceress turns me into another animal ‘cause I can do that on my own anyway and then I can just change myself again, isn’t that neat? Anyway sorry it took so long, it took me a couple of days to learn how to do it ‘cause the magic made it feel funny and then it was another couple of days before Steph came by again so I could be a human, and then I had to explain everything to her and then she agreed to help us but we had to wait until nighttime when no one would see us come talk to you ‘cause I’m still pretending I’m stuck as a pig, ‘cause Steph says Circe would probably be really mad if she knew I got out of her enchantment without permission. Oh, right! Can Steph come in, too?”
Bruce straightened up and leaned back over his windowsill and met the nervous eyes of the little girl who’d been a victim of Circe’s whims for who knew how long. “Of course,” he said readily, holding out a hand in an offer to help pull her up, thinking that since he was barely more than a stranger to her she wouldn’t appreciate being picked up as Tim had. She hesitated for a moment before reaching and grasping it, then bracing a leg against the wall so she could lever herself up while he pulled her into the room.
“Hello, Stephanie,” he greeted once she had steadied herself, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m glad to see you again. I’ve been looking around the palace for you.”
Stephanie blinked. “For me? Why?”
“I wanted the chance to talk to you without Circe around,” he explained. “I have a few questions for you—but those can wait until later,” he added, glancing between the two children. “First I want to hear about what you two have been up to since we parted. Tim, I’m assuming Dick and Jason are still…?”
“Little piggies? Oh, yes,” Tim said with a smirk. “And they are not happy about that at all. Jason is furious, the angriest pig I’ve ever met—”
“He bit me!” Steph exclaimed, pushing up her sleeve to reveal a small but dark bruised area on her arm. “I was trying to apologize and he tried to take a chunk out of my arm!”
Bruce winced. “I’m… sorry about that,” He’d have to have a talk with Jason later, try to get him to apologize to her, maybe. He really hoped all three of the boys would be able to see past the small part Stephanie might have played in their current predicament and learn to get along… once everyone had human tongues again, he was sure he could help them work it all out and make any necessary amends. “Did you clean it thoroughly?”
Stephanie nodded. “I have a salve, it’s fine. It was just rude,” she huffed, letting her sleeve fall as she crossed her arms. “Tim didn’t try to bite me. Just gave me a heart attack when he switched forms on me the first time.”
“I did also try to throw a few pieces of pottery at your head once I got my hands back,” Tim said brightly, “But that was before I realized you weren’t really on Circe’s side and want to get out of here as much as we do. So now you’re our friend! And we don’t throw things at our friends.”
“That’s right, we don’t,” Bruce said approvingly before looking back over at the girl. “Stephanie? Is that true?” he asked, watching her carefully. “Would you like to leave this place if you could?”
Stephanie’s expression grew troubled and she started to fidget with the thick metal bracelet that encircled her left wrist. “I—well, I guess if I still had anywhere left to go. But I don’t and… it’s not really possible for me, anyway,” she said, that glum, almost lifeless look that had troubled Bruce at their first meeting returning to her eyes. “A powerful spell keeps me here and only Circe knows how to remove it. I don’t want to hope for something I can never have.”
“No, we have a plan, remember?” Tim cut in indignantly. “Bruce can read the journal, you can figure out how Talia escaped, and then we’ll all get away together. Easy!”
“Journal?”
Stephanie’s dubious frown remained, but from within a pouch hanging onto her belt she produced a slim, leather bound booklet and held it out to him. “Talia… when she was staying here, she kept diaries of sorts. There’s a few volumes that I’ve found hidden in where I think her old room was, it’s right next to mine—anyway, I’ve read most of them, they have great magic advice and her ideas for the best ways to avoid punishment—”
“How does Circe punish her students?” Bruce interrupted, frowning with concern for both the girl in front of him and what Talia may have endured here in her younger years.”
Stephanie shrugged. “Depends on what we do, but it usually involves casting some sort of spell on us. She turns us into animals or household objects, that sort of thing. The nice thing is if you can figure out how to break the spell on your own, she’s so pleased that she ends the punishment immediately and you get back into her good graces. Talia was really good at that. I’m not so far, but I’m trying.”
“Tell him about the code!” Tim said impatiently as he came behind Bruce and jumped up so he could hang off Bruce's neck the way he liked to do with Dick. Bruce caught his arms so he wouldn’t fall off while smiling at Stephanie encouragingly.
“Yes, pardon my interruption, I want to hear the rest of your story. What else did Talia write? Did she share her way off this island?”
“That’s the problem—if she talked about that, I haven’t been able to read it,” Stephanie explained as she opened the journal and flicked to the pages towards the back. “About halfway through this volume—which I think is the last one she wrote before leaving—she switches to some sort of encoded language that I haven’t been able to decipher. But Tim thought that maybe since you know her, you’d figure out how to crack it?” She turned the journal so it faced him and held it out while looking up at him with what he thought might be the barest glimmer of hope in her eyes.
“I can certainly try,” he said as he carefully took the booklet to get a better look at his wife’s words. Stephanie’s grip on the journal tightened for just a moment before she released it to him, her hands quickly dropping into balled fists at her sides. Attached to the journal, then, and likely to Talia as well—or rather, what Talia must represent to her, which was probably the hope of an escape. He hoped that was a good sign for his hopes of getting her to come with them. As Talia’s husband, perhaps her attachment could be extended to him...
Bruce turned his attention to the writing on the pages, and he had to pause for a moment at the aching pang that jolted through his chest at the sight of the familiar, elegant handwriting. He’d come to know it as well as he knew his own, from the love letters exchanged as he courted her under her father’s nose, from the notes she scribbled and left around the palace for him to find as he went about his day just so she could make him smile. Getting swept into the Sea of Monsters and finding an assortment of children in need had provided him with something of a distraction, but holding this book that she once held and seeing secrets spelled out in her hand pulled the bitter yearning to be back with his beloved wife, his infant son, his own homeland to the forefront of his mind once more. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to get ahold of his emotions enough to be useful.
“Well?” Tim’s breath was hot and damp on his cheek as he spoke too loudly right into Bruce’s ear. “Can you read it?”
Bruce cleared his throat and blinked a few times before forcing himself to actually see the contents of the journal rather than be caught up in thoughts of the woman who’d written them. And yes, actually, now that he was looking, he could see a familiar pattern emerging as he scanned each line. “I believe I can,” he said after a moment as he started flipping through the next few pages just to make sure he wasn’t wrong. “This is a code that Talia made up herself. She taught me to use it so we could exchange love notes without anyone finding out when she was still part of her father’s court.”
Stephanie gasped, and Tim cheered loudly enough to make Bruce wince before the boy released his hold and dropped to the ground again. “So what does it say!” he asked as he sidled up to Stephanie’s side and popped his chin on her shoulder so he could peer up at Bruce. “Does it say how she unlocked Circe’s magic shackle thingy?”
Bruce frowned, the thick metal band around Stephanie’s wrist taking on an abruptly more sinister appearance and his opinion of the witch Circe dropping somehow even lower at the revelation, but he decided to dwell on that later and answer Tim’s question for now. “I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “I can decode this, but it’s been awhile since we’ve had to use it to talk to each other so it’ll take me some time. Stephanie, do you know where there might be some paper and writing utensils for me to work with—oh, thank you,” he said as the girl hurried over to the writing desk tucked into the corner of his lavish bedroom and pulled out supplies from one of the drawers.
“Everything you need should be in here,” she said. “If you run out, just close the drawer and the island's magic should replenish it.”
“Alright,” Bruce said as he pulled out the chair and took a seat, setting the journal carefully on the desk in front of him. “I’ll work as quickly as I can, and we can see what Talia said about how she got away from Circe. But, Stephanie,” he said, reaching out to place a firm hand on her shoulder before she could step away and looking her directly in the eyes. “Even if my wife didn’t leave us some clever way to get out of this mess, that doesn’t mean we’re going to stop trying, alright? Even just knowing Talia has done it before means there’s a chance, and I won’t stop working until I find a way to get everyone off this island safely. That includes me, all forty two members of my crew, Dick, Jason, Tim, and you.”
Stephanie might be better fed, more protected from the elements, and better dressed than any of the boys had been when he’d first met them, but when it came down to it, she was just as trapped by her circumstances as they had been. She clearly wanted out, so they’d find a way to get her out. Bruce had yet to leave behind any of these children he’d found in dangerous situations, and he had no intention of starting now.