“What does that mean?” Donnie asked.

   “It means she executes them,” Brennan said.

   “Well, not just me, but yeah, usually they’re executed too quickly for special cells to be needed.”

   “You think they can’t be held safely, don’t you?” Flannery said.

   “I think we tried it in the States and ended up with a lot of dead correctional officers and fellow prisoners trying to be fair to vampires, shapeshifters, and even human sorcerers.”

   “But you’ve fought to get more lenient legislation on the books in your country so that execution isn’t the only answer,” he said.

   I nodded. “When the vampires are being controlled by a powerful enough master, they literally have no will of their own. They can be forced to kill and do other terrible things totally against their will. I fought to have the law reflect that. Because once I realized they really had no choice, killing them for it seemed worse, but the law didn’t give me another option, so I worked to give myself another option.”

   “Then you would rather not have to execute them?” Flannery said.

   I thought about my answer and finally said, “If I think the person I’m about to kill was innocent, then yes, I want an option, but don’t mistake me for someone who’s against the death penalty. Most of the people I’ve executed have taken multiple lives, and I believe that ending their lives saved others.”

   “We may have to agree to disagree,” he said, smiling, but his eyes stayed serious.

   “We may,” I said.

   The doors to the cells opened and one was as white as the hallway, but the other one was shiny. “Silver-infused paint,” Nicky said.

   “Maybe one is just a glossier paint than the other one,” Donnie said.

   He shook his head.

   “How did you know that quickly?” she asked.

   “Being around this much silver . . . you know.”

   “Then it will limit what you can do inside the cell,” Flannery said.

   He shook his head.

   “Magda is not getting in a silver-lined cell,” I said.

   “I am wearing good boots and I can use my clothes to protect my hands,” she said.

   “No.”

   She looked at the others and asked, “Do you want me to destroy the most expensive cell or the one that is the most useful?”

   “Destroy away, as long as you can’t get out,” Brennan said.

   “Destroying it means I will break out of it.”

   “The silver will sap your abilities and you’ll be just as human as we are,” he said.

   She and Nicky both laughed. Socrates didn’t. “That’s not what silver does to us.”

   “I will be just as strong inside either cell. All you need to tell me is which cell you prefer I break out of, and which you want to keep for the vampire prisoners.”

   “You haven’t even touched the door or walls yet,” Mort said.

   “I do not have to.”

   He looked puzzled and almost frowned, but mostly just puzzled. “How can you be that certain you can break out without trying first?”

   “I know my capabilities,” she said, giving him that calm face she did so well. I knew from experience that she could hide almost any thought behind that placid mask. It wasn’t the pleasant smiling face that Fortune did; in fact, it unnerved some people because Magda looked almost totally unemotional when she did it. But I knew that she could be feeling anything, everything, behind that look, just like Fortune’s one smile. It was a different way of hiding in plain sight.

   Mort shook his head. “I thought I was arrogant.”

   “It is not arrogance. It is self-knowledge.”

   Mort stared up at her, studying her face and trying to see behind it, I think. He finally laughed. “That makes perfect sense to me.”

   “Are you saying your bragging is because you really are that good?” Donnie asked, smiling.

   He gave her a look that was a little too direct, but she had started it. “Have I ever said I can do something and not been able to do it?”

   She had to think about that for a second or two, and then her smile faded around the edges. She gave a much more considering look. “No, you always do what you say you’ll do.”

   “Self-knowledge,” Magda said.

   Mort nodded. “Self-knowledge.”

   Flannery touched his ear and said, “We have a decision. If it won’t harm Sanderson, we’d prefer she try to break out of the silver-lined one.”

   “I’ll leave the choice up to her, as long as we are clear that it’s not an order,” I said.

   “I understand it is my choice,” she said, still giving me that blank look that I knew could be hiding almost any thought or feeling. I knew one thing: Whatever was going on behind her blue-gray eyes, if she said she could break out of both cells, then she could.

   “Is there anything in the cells that will hurt Magda other than the silver in the paint?” Socrates asked.

   “What do you mean?” Flannery asked.

   “Is anything booby-trapped?”

   It was an excellent question. “I knew I brought you along for a reason, because you ask better questions than I do.”

   He smiled at the compliment but gave serious eyes back to the other man. “Is there anything in the cell that we need to know about before we put one of our people inside it?”

   “What Socrates said,” I said.

   “We are trying to create a jail that will hold the supernatural. A regular jail cell would not be booby-trapped, and neither is this one,” Flannery said.

   “Promise?” I said.

   He gave a small smile. “Promise.”

   I looked at Magda. “It’s up to you.”

   She smiled then, and just walked into the silver-coated cell.

   “You can’t use any of your weapons to break out, because we’d confiscate them from a real prisoner,” Mort said.

   “Understood,” she said. She just stood there calmly, waiting for them to close the door.

   Flannery gave the signal and the door started to swing shut. I watched her as long as I could, but her expression never changed. The door closed with a whoosh instead of a clang. I didn’t understand exactly how the door worked, or where the lock was, but I didn’t like having one of my people on the wrong side of it.

   I leaned into Nicky and asked, “Would just standing surrounded by that much silver hurt?”