There were patterns in the flames—not really, Quilla knew, but stare at them long enough and apparent patterns emerged. Garet was frequently there. Bits of him. A hint of his smile. An eye glinting. His chin. His ears. Never all at once and always for the briefest of moments as the flames crackled and waved, and became new shapes.

The horns of a Volg appeared, and she jumped slightly, sloshing hot cider over her hands.

“Hey, you okay?” Tarm said.

Quilla turned her head, blinking several times to get rid of the impressions the flames had left on her eyes in the otherwise dim room. She placed her mug down on the table and reached for a cloth. “Yeah, yeah fine.”

“You’ve been very quiet, Catalyst,” Jakka said.

“Please, just Quilla. I don’t need to be called Catalyst all the time.”

Jakka shrugged. “As you wish, Quilla. So, what’s on your mind that’s kept you so distracted?”

“Just thinking.”

“Not about this morning, I hope,” Tarm said. “Really, we couldn’t have asked for things to go much better.”

This morning had gone reasonably smoothly, though Annai had questioned and worried about it continually all day. That might be why Tarm was assuming Quilla was thinking about it, too.

They had set out shortly after dawn, the five of them along with a pony-pulled wagon with a few supplies in it. Naturally, they had been stopped by Bloods at the gates of the city. One of them walked over to the wagon and pulled back the tarp.

“Why is your wagon so empty?” the Blood asked.

Jakka, who was leading the pony, piped up, “Business was good, milord. Sold almost all our goods.”

The Blood covered the wagon again. “Where you headed?”

“Elbeth,” Jakka said.

“Elbeth? Why Elbeth?”

“Because it’s home, milord. It’s where we live. We were just in the city to sell our goods.”

The Blood walked up to Veronique and looked her over briefly before moving to Tarm and doing the same with him. Then he stopped at Quilla and spent longer looking her over, long enough to make Quilla start to worry.

“We don’t have much left as you saw, milord,” Jakka said, “but if you’re interested in something…”

The Blood turned from Quilla and rounded on Jakka. “Are you attempting to bribe me?”

Jakka raised his hands. “Of course not, milord. Just attempting a last bit of business.”

With a grunt, the Blood turned away from him again, and approached Annai. “You’re a Folith, aren’t you? With a bunch of Eloorin?”

Annai’s face paled. “Yes, my...my Lord. There are Foliths in Elbeth, too.”

He stared at her for several moments—at least, Quilla was fairly sure he was staring; it was hard to tell through his helmet. Eventually, he stepped back and waved his arm wide. “You can go. All of you.” He turned to Jakka. “But you be careful of your words in future. You don’t want to sound like you’re trying to bribe us. The Red Knights are unbribable.”

Jakka tapped his forehead with two fingers in a sort of salute. “Of course, milord. I’ll be more careful.”

Once they were well out of earshot of the Bloods, Tarm said, “Unbribable! That’s a laugh.”

Jakka chuckled.

“They recognised me, didn’t they?” Annai said. “And Quilla. They spent so long looking at us.”

“If they’d recognised you, your Highness,” Jakka said, “they wouldn’t have let us pass. You have nothing to worry about.”

But Annai had worried. Loudly. Virtually non-stop.

She’d gone quiet now though, perhaps as quiet as Quilla was being, though it was hard to tell as Quilla hadn’t really been paying much attention to what the others were doing. The rest of their journey had gone smoothly, apart from the pony not liking Veronique much, but Veronique just kept her distance and everything was fine.

The tavern they were now in was small, but busy. Elbeth was a small town, and this was the only tavern, so all the locals came here. They’d managed to secure a table for themselves near the fireplace with its Garet- and Volg-filled flames.

“Well?” Tarm said.

Quilla blinked again. “What?”

“You’re not worried about this morning, are you?”

She shook her head. “No, just thinking about other things. Don’t worry about me.” Her concerns were not about that morning, but rather what was to come tomorrow.

The evening wore on and Quilla continued to pay little attention to what any of the others were doing or saying. She barely remembered what she ate—some sort of stew, wasn’t it? She only picked at it.

Eventually, they retired to their “rooms”. Elbeth didn’t have an inn, but the tavern did provide accommodations in its stables. Those accommodations amounted to a couple of the larger stalls cleared out with fresh straw for a mattress and some blankets. It was not spacious accommodation, but it was something. They had two stalls, one for the men and one for the women.

The stall Quilla, Annai, and Veronique were in was cold. It was along the outer wall of the barn and there was a small piece of one of the planks missing, allowing cold air in. It wasn’t horrendous, and was certainly better than sleeping outside. Veronique piled their supplies up to block the hole, which helped a little.

There was no point changing for bed, so Quilla just climbed onto the straw.

“I need the outside,” Veronique said.

Quilla shrugged and moved to the side against the stall wall. Annai climbed in beside her, and then Veronique doused their lantern and took the outside of the “bed”.

Annai quickly fell fast asleep, and Veronique… Quilla wasn’t sure about Veronique. She was lying down, but whether she was sleeping was anyone’s guess. Quilla, however, didn’t even bother to lie down. She just sat there, letting the hours slowly creep by. The last thing she wanted right now was sleep.

“You should at least try to get a little sleep,” Veronique said eventually.

Quilla glanced over at Veronique’s shadowy form in the darkness. She hadn’t sat up.

“Of course, you don’t have to listen to me. Just making a friendly suggestion.”

Quilla grunted, then sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

The straw rustled and Veronique sat up. “Want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Whatever’s got you so distracted. Again, you don’t have to, but I’ve heard it can sometimes be good to talk to other people about things that are bothering us.”

Quilla stared at her, tried to look her in the eye, though in the dark, it was hard to be sure if she’d made eye contact. Veronique’s eyes were not reflecting any of the very little available light. “I don’t even know you.” Not to mention a Darker as well. There was no way in hell she was opening up to a Darker.

“I’ve heard that sometimes it can be better to open up to a stranger.”

“Why do you care?”

“I suppose I don’t, but I am your bodyguard, and as long as you’re sitting there refusing to sleep, I can’t be sure you won’t try to skip out without me, so I have to stay awake too. And if I don’t get any sleep, my effectiveness as your bodyguard decreases considerably. So in that sense, I do care.”

“Will you two shut up?” Annai muttered. “I’m trying to sleep.”

“I’m trying to help your friend here, your bitchiness, but she doesn’t seem to want it, so sure, I’ll shut up now.” Veronique lay back down and turned on her side to face away from Quilla and Annai.

Quilla sat there a little longer, but eventually stretched out and lay down as well. As much as she didn’t want to admit that a Darker might be right about something, Veronique had been right that she should try to sleep.

Sleep didn’t come easily though. She tossed and turned quite a bit. After a while, when she turned so that she was staring directly into Annai’s face, Annai whispered, “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong? I know I haven’t always been kind to you. In fact, I’ve been terrible to you at times, and you have every reason to hate me, but we’ve been through a lot together the last few months, and I’m learning. At least, I’m trying to learn. I really am, and I actually think of you as a friend now, so… If you want… Believe it or not, I can actually be a good listener.”

Quilla stared at her a moment, then broke into tears.

“Come here,” Annai said, and put her arms around Quilla.

Annai held her for the next several minutes or more. Quilla wasn’t sure how long it was and didn’t really care. It was her turn to cry for once instead of always Annai.

When she eventually lifted her head from Annai’s chest, Veronique was sitting with a lit lantern beside her. She handed a handkerchief to Annai, who took it and started to dab Quilla’s tears.

“I can step out of the stall if you want to talk privately,” Veronique said.

Quilla nodded, but as Veronique stood up, she said, “No, Veronique, wait. You can’t go far so you’ll probably overhear half of it anyway. Besides, you probably need to know to protect me better.”

Veronique sat back down. “That depends on what you’re about to say, but maybe. And please, call me Vern. I like Veronique—there’s a reason I chose it, after all—but I generally go by Vern.”

“You chose your name?” Annai said.

“Come now, your bitch...sorry. Annai. Surely you don’t think I go by my birth name?”

Annai snorted, and continued to wipe Quilla’s face. “No, I suppose not.”

When Annai finished, Quilla took the handkerchief and blew her nose. “I’m sorry if I’ve been...distracted. It’s this place.”

“The barn?” Annai said. “Elbeth?”

“No, sorry, I mean the place we’re going to. It’s where the Volgs took me when I was their prisoner. I know we’re not going to be in literally the exact same spot, but it’s the same general area, and when I think about it, I just…” She dabbed the handkerchief at her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Vern said. “I didn’t know you’d been held prisoner by the Volgs. That must have been horrible. How’d you get away?”

“Garet saved her,” Annai said. “My brother, her fiancé.”

“It’s weird,” Quilla said. “That time is somehow both the worst and best of my life.” But the worst was so much longer than the best. Meeting Garet was only a brief moment at the end of the ordeal, but it had been such an important moment to her.

She heard the fighting well before she saw him. There were yells, cries, and crashes. It went on for ages. Early on, her guards went running to see what was happening. Eventually, the yells and thuds stopped. Quilla pressed herself up against the back of her cell, knees huddled against her chest, shivering.

Then a large shape approached the bars. In the dark, and the blurriness from her tears, she couldn’t make out much about the shape, other than size. Garet was a big man, not actually as big as a Volg, but in her state, he was close enough that she assumed he was a Volg. She didn’t immediately notice the lack of horns or wings.

“My name’s Garet,” he said. “I’m gonna get you out of her, okay?” He began to work at one of the bars. They were just wooden posts driven into the floor and ceiling of the cave. After a few pounds, he managed to crack it and pull it free. Then he came into the cell, hunched over because the ceiling quickly lowered beneath his full height.

Quilla whimpered and had actually tried to back away from him, terrified he was about to kill her.

He just held out a hand. “It’s all right. I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” He hunched like that for the next several minutes, not tiring, not getting impatient, only holding out his hand.

Eventually, she worked out that he wasn’t a Volg, and she reached out tentatively and touched his hand. She almost immediately pulled her hand right back, but when he didn’t jump at her, she reached out again and took his hand.

He helped her to her feet and led her past the bars. With the ceiling high enough for him to stand straight, he picked her up and carried her out of the cave. He didn’t complain about the state she was in, covered in her own shit, piss, and vomit. He just carried her into the light.

Looking back on it now, Quilla wanted to tell Annai and Vern about how it was the first time she’d seen the sun in weeks, and how gorgeous the landscape looked in the light. But it wasn’t like that. It had been a miserable day out—cloudy and rainy—and the landscape was wet and muddy.

“Garet was always so valiant,” Annai said.

While it was nice for Annai to admit that, Quilla didn’t want to start an argument by reminding her that she never had thought of Garet that way while he’d been alive.

“I’m really sorry you had to go through that,” Vern said.

Quilla couldn’t be bothered to reply. She didn’t need platitudes from a Darker.

“I’m being honest,” Vern went on. “I know you don’t like us Darkers as you call us, but—”

“There are a whole bunch of you Darkers who want to do the same things to me as the Volgs did,” Quilla snapped. “I’ll remind you your whole reason for being here is to protect me from those ones.”

“Yes, I know, but my presence should also be proof to you that we’re not all like that.”

“You worship the Lord of Darkness!”

“Define worship,” Vern said.

“What?”

“Exactly what I said. Define worship. We don’t hold services to Night the way you do for your gods. There are some prayers, I think, but most of us never say any of them. Most of us weren’t even given a choice to be a Servant.”

Annai scoffed. “What nonsense. If you don’t want to be a Darker, why don’t you just leave?”

Vern laughed. “I never said I don’t want to be a Servant, but even if I didn’t, you think it’s that easy to walk away? You don’t just leave the Servants. At any rate, I didn’t mean to turn this moment into an argument. Whether you believe it or not, I truly am sorry you went through that, Quilla. And now I’ll shut up on the subject. We should probably all try to get a little more sleep. We’ve got a couple hours at most before dawn.” She doused the lantern and lay down again.

Annai hugged Quilla. “If you need anything from me tomorrow, just let me know. I’m here for you, okay?”

“Thank you,” Quilla said. “I appreciate it.”

Quilla sat up a little while longer. Gods, the nerve of Vern trying to pull the whole “not all of us are that bad” routine. They were Darkers. They were… Oh gods, how long had she been thinking of her as Vern? Since she’d asked? Damn. Vern sounded too much like she was a friend. She was no such thing. Veronique was her name, and that was what Quilla was going to call her.

Now she was sufficiently angry, she lay down and tried to sleep again. This time, sleep actually came. It seemed the anger was enough to hold off the fear. At least for a little while.

* * * * *

Travel the next day was reasonably smooth. The canopy of trees—mostly pines and spruces, but with a few firs as well—kept the trail relatively free of snow. Occasionally, the wind picked up and blew snow trapped in the upper branches down on them, but by the time it reached the ground, it had spread into flurries that didn’t impede their progress.

Quilla tried to remain at the back of the group, though Vern—no, Veronique—made that difficult. Any time Quilla started to fall more than a couple feet behind, Veronique soon joined her and urged her to pick up her pace.

“If you want to ditch the others,” Veronique said on one occasion, “I’m all for it. But not until we’re off the island. We need Jakka’s contacts and support until then. I suppose we could ditch Tarm, but that would be difficult without ditching Jakka as well.”

Quilla sighed. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to run.”

Vern grinned. “Wasn’t expecting you to. I’m just trying to cheer you up, though I’m serious about ditching the others later, if you want. Come on, it’s going to be okay. Trust me.”

“I’m not worried about how things will be,” Quilla said. “It’s just the memories.”

“Fair. Not much I can do about those.”

“No, there isn’t.”

“Leave her alone!” Annai, seated on the back of the wagon, called.

“I can’t!” Veronique called back. “I’m her bodyguard!”

“You know what I mean!”

“It’s all right, Annai,” Quilla said. “I’m catching up.”

She fell behind a few more times after that, but Veronique didn’t say anything, instead just came over beside Quilla and silently stared at her until she caught up again.

In the mid-afternoon, the wind began to pick up as the trees began to thin, and the trail emerged from the forest along the shoreline. Quilla had to squint a bit now that the sun, unblocked by the trees, shone at its full brightness. Ahead were the hills that Quilla knew too well despite never really getting a good look at them last time. But she’d never needed a good look. The little she’d had had seared itself into her memory. She would never forget it.

There were still a couple miles to travel along the beach, and it was slower going as the ground was less solid, and the wagon got stuck a couple of times. When they had travelled about a mile, a group of figures emerged from the trees on the nearest hill up ahead.

Jakka held up a hand for them to stop, then handed the pony’s reins to Tarm. “Be alert.”

Tarm nodded.

“Are they the people going to help us?” Annai asked, hopping down from the wagon.

“Hopefully, your Highness,” Jakka said, not turning to her, but continuing to watch the figures up ahead.

“Hopefully? What do you mean hopefully?”

“The people we’re here to see don’t usually walk out in the open like that.” Jakka spun round to face Annai, then bowed low. “But don’t worry your pretty face, your Highness. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. They might just be some Zunsen merchants on their way to Arnor City.”

“They don’t have any wagons or carts with them,” Annai said.

“Good point, your Highness.” Jakka then addressed the whole group. “Let them approach us. If you’ve got weapons, don’t draw them. Don’t do anything that could be interpreted as threatening unless they do something first. Let me do the talking.” He walked forward a couple yards in front of the wagon.

The people on the hill—four of them, it seemed—began to descend, as a fifth figure emerged from the trees, and Quilla’s heart skipped a beat.

Gods, no! Please no.

She stumbled, and Veronique grabbed her, while muttering, “Shit.”

The new figure was taller than any of the others by more than a head, with wide, black wings that made it look even bigger. On its head, glinting in the sunlight, two white horns curved up and forwards.

Veronique moved in front of Quilla. “Stay behind me, but not far.”

Spreading its wings, the Volg leapt into the air, flying over its four companions, who were still descending the hill. In only a short time, it reached Quilla’s group. Wind rushed over them as it landed just in front of Jakka, who stumbled back a few steps.

The pony screamed and yanked at its reins. Tarm tried to hold it only briefly before letting it go. It bolted with the wagon, nearly knocking Annai over.

The Volg looked about, sniffing as it did so. When its gaze passed Veronique, it paused and sniffed some more. Then its snout pulled back in a grotesque mockery of a smile as it looked past Veronique, directly at Quilla.

“My lord,” Jakka began, but the Volg shoved him aside and strode directly towards Quilla and Veronique.

Annai screamed and scrambled out of the way, but Tarm moved to stand beside Veronique, a hand on the axe he carried at his waist.

“That’s far enough, asshole,” Veronique said. When the Volg didn’t immediately stop, she added, “I said, that’s enough! Back the fuck off!” She raised her fists.

The Volg stopped barely an inch in front of Veronique, staring down at her.

Quilla hadn’t seen a Volg since Ninifin, but there they had mostly been in the distance during the fight at the Grand Temple. She had seen more on Scovese, but even there she’d been able to keep her distance from them. Even when they were somewhat close, she was able to handle it because she knew she had Garet. Even if he wasn’t right there at the moment, she knew he wasn’t far. But now, Garet was dead, and this was the closest she had been to a Volg since they’d held her prisoner. With a whimper, she huddled behind Veronique.

Veronique looked so tiny compared to the Volg. Did she really think her fists would be enough to stop it? She continued to hold them in a fighting stance between her face and the Volg’s.

The Volg continued to stare down at Veronique and Quilla. There was no telling what the expressions on its bestial face meant, but Quilla got the impression it was confused, like it couldn’t understand why Veronique didn’t just step aside and let it take Quilla.

Veronique hissed. “Do you even understand me? Back...the...fuck...off, or I’ll rip your horns from your head!”

The Volg hissed back at her, but then amazingly stepped back. Sounds—guttural grunts, clicks, and yips—emerged from its throat. It was the Volg language. Quilla had heard it enough during her captivity to recognise it, but she could hardly consider them words. She certainly didn’t understand what the sounds meant. Who did it think it was talking to?

“I suggest you keep your pet on a leash!” Veronique said, though it was unclear who she was speaking to now.

Shaking, Quilla peered round. She couldn’t get a good view because of the Volg’s huge form, but the other people they’d seen on the hill had arrived.

“He’s not our pet, Veronique,” one of them said. “He’d probably rip my head off if I tried to treat him as such, like he’ll do to you if you don’t give us the Catalyst.”

“I think you know that’s not gonna happen, asshole,” Vern said.

“If I might intercede,” Jakka said, approaching the other four, but keeping his distance from the Volg. “Obviously, word of our journey preceded us, but whatever you were told about us, I’m sure we can come to an accommodation.”

“Sure,” the same one who had spoken before said. Quilla couldn’t get a good look at him because of the Volg and she didn’t want to lean too far to see around it. “How’s this for an accommodation? You give us the Catalyst and we don’t kill you.”

Jakka chuckled. “Gorman, you know full well the Catalyst is under the protection of Dyle Aderman, and we are escorting her—”

“Shut the fuck up, Jakka,” Gorman said. “Dyle Aderman has no power here.”

“I beg to differ. If I could speak to Yaluna, she’ll—”

“Yaluna had a little accident and is unavailable. Now, give us the Catalyst. You have until the count of one. One!”

The Volg spun around, lunging for Jakka, and Veronique leapt onto the Volg’s back, grabbing at its wings. The Volg roared with rage and tried to shake her off, while Jakka ducked out of the way.

“The Volg’s mine!” Vern yelled. “Tarm, Jakka, stop the others! Protect the Catalyst at all costs!”

After that, everything became a bit of a blur. Quilla wanted to run, but her feet wouldn’t move. All she could do was crouch down, which she didn’t really want to do, but her legs did anyway. Tarm wandered into the fray, swinging his axe about, and Vern continued to struggle with the Volg. Quilla caught a couple glances of Jakka, but she couldn’t quite tell what he was doing.

Somebody ran at her, but a sword swiped across the person’s chest and they went down in a splatter of blood. Annai stood over Quilla, her now bloody sword raised in front of her. “I won’t let them get at you. I promise.”

Unable to move, Quilla tried to focus on Vern. While she trusted Annai to try, she doubted that kill was anything more than luck. Vern was the only one she could really trust to keep them alive. Tarm too maybe, she supposed, but for whatever reason, her hopes lay far more in Vern.

Vern currently had one arm wrapped around the Volg’s neck and her legs round its waist. In her other hand, she held part of a wing. She wrenched it back and the Volg screamed as several wing bones snapped.

The Volg grabbed at the arm around its neck, trying to pull it away, but with her other hand, Vern yanked its ear, tearing it. With another scream, it let go of her, one hand going to its ear.

Vern let go of its neck and grabbed its horns, one in each hand, but it recovered enough to grab her, pull her off its back, and throw her to the ground. She landed flat on her back.

Someone came at Annai, who stumbled back into Quilla, nearly falling over her. Whoever it was then slammed into the ground as Tarm ploughed over them, driving his axe into the person’s head.

A moment later, Jakka came up beside Annai, a dagger in each hand. “You’re doing fine, your Highness.”

The Volg was the only one left now. Vern was back on her feet, circling it in dance-like motions. Tarm took a position in front of Annai and Jakka.

The Volg lunged for Vern. She ducked low, but the Volg still managed to grab her arm, yanking her off her feet and dangling her in the air. It then twisted her arm back and threw her aside.

Tarm rushed forward and Jakka slipped off to the side. The Volg batted Tarm aside, but roared in pain as one of Jakka’s daggers sliced through its wing. It spun round on Jakka, and grabbed him by the throat, but then dropped him a moment later as Tarm’s axe slammed into its back. It spun around again, the axe still stuck in its back. Tarm stumbled and fell onto his back as the Volg loomed over him.

With a whimper, Annai rushed forward, but the Volg swatted her aside. It did provide Tarm a moment to scramble away though.

As the Volg turned towards Quilla, she found she had some strength in her legs and rose to her feet. She reached for her dagger. If she died here, it wasn’t going to be cowering on the ground.

The Volg strode purposefully towards her, but tumbled aside as Vern slammed into its side. Despite her left arm dangling uselessly at her side, she leapt onto the Volg, grabbing one of its horns and somehow managing to wrap her legs around its neck. As it ploughed onto its side on the ground, she pulled back on its horn. “Tarm, Jakka, kill this motherfucker!”

Tarm grabbed his axe, which had dislodged when the Volg fell. As the Volg tried to pull Vern off it, he swung the axe down into its chest. The Volg yelled and flailed about for a short while longer, but then went still.

Vern twisted round onto her feet, but kept her grip on the Volg’s horn and kept pulling on it.

Tarm came over to Quilla. “You okay?”

Quilla nodded. “Yeah.” Physically, at least, but she wasn’t going to get into other details.

“Your Highness!” Jakka hurried over to Annai, who was getting up from where she’d fallen, and lent her a hand.

“Thank you.” Annai brushed snow and blood from her cloak, smearing the blood on it as she did so. She scowled.

Jakka bowed. “Your Highness, you are a truly beautiful and noble woman.”

She glared at him.

He bowed lower and extended his hand. “I assure you, I am not mocking you.”

She stared at him a moment, but then her expression softened. “Really?”

“I confess, early on, some of what I said was mockery, but I have come to realise you do not deserve mockery, and I apologise.” He remained bowed, with his hand out. Annai tentatively held out her own hand, and he took it in his, kissing it. “I am honoured to be in your company.”

Quilla wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t still mocking Annai, but it didn’t matter. Annai probably needed some sort of comfort at the moment. Quilla could certainly use some.

Vern was still pulling on the Volg’s horn, so Quilla walked over to her. “Are you okay, Vern?”

“One moment.” Vern adjusted the position of her foot on the Volg’s face, then pulled again. This time, the horn tore free, dragging bits of bone and viscera with it, maybe bits of brain too? Quilla looked away.

Vern came round in front of her and held out the horn to her. “For your collection.”

“I don’t have a collection.”

Vern grinned. “You do now.”

Quilla tentatively took the horn. It was slick from the blood on it, and still warm. She turned it over in her hands. As disgusted by it as she was, there was a certain joy and pride from holding it, knowing that it was a symbol of her survival. Of course, it would probably feel even better if she’d killed the Volg herself, but that wasn’t really something within her capabilities, so this was the best she could hope for. Maybe she should start a collection. “Thank you, Vern.”

Vern smiled. “You want to know the best way to thank me? Get a fucking tattoo so I can protect you properly.”

Quilla looked aside. “Oh. Well…”

“That would have gone so much more easily if we were properly bonded. Sure, we got through it, but that was only one Volg. And I still got this.” She indicated her left arm, which twitched and moved slightly, but otherwise continued to hang limply.

“Oh gods, your arm,” Quilla said. “Will you—?”

“I’ll be fine. It’s just dislocated. Tarm, would you do the honours?”

“Yeah, sure.” Tarm came up behind Vern and grasped her limp arm in one hand and her shoulder in the other. He took a moment to make small adjustments to his grips. “You ready?”

Vern nodded. With a quick motion, Tarm popped her arm back into place, and Vern cried out.

Tarm stepped back, and Vern rubbed her shoulder with her other hand. She moved her injured arm in a small circle and grimaced. “Motherfucker, that hurts!” She clenched her teeth as she lowered the arm again. “I’m a quick healer, so I should be fine in a few days, but until then…” She shrugged, then grimaced again. “So, the tattoo?”

Quilla sighed. “I…”

“Just get the fucking tattoo already!”

“Hey!” Annai called. “Don’t treat her like that, especially after what we’ve just been through.”

Vern turned around, clenching her good fist and growling. “Gods damn it!” She turned back to Quilla. “You don’t have to believe in it. You just have to have it.”

Quilla shook her head. “Vern, I’m sorry.”

Vern spun around again. “Fuck!” She stomped away.

“Vern!” Quilla called after her.

“Fuck off! I need a minute or two!”

Quilla let her go. It wasn’t worth it. Besides, she could barely believe she was feeling bad about not getting the tattoo. But that was a line she wouldn’t cross. While she kind of liked Vern—hell, she’d even started thinking of her as Vern again—she couldn’t let herself forget that Vern—as well as Tarm and Jakka—was a Darker, even if she was one of the not-quite-so-bad ones. Getting a tattoo was letting Darkers win. No, she just had to survive long enough to get away from these three, and get herself and Annai to Quorge.

Vern didn’t go far—only a short distance down the beach where she paced about angrily—so Quilla went over to Annai, who was standing by herself off to the side. “You okay?”

Annai nodded. “Sort of. You?”

“I’ve been better, but I’ll be okay.” Quilla looked about. “Where’s Jakka?”

“He went to find the wagon,” Annai said.

“Ah.”

They stood in silence for a few moments before Annai said, “I killed someone, Quilla.”

“I know. I saw. Thank you.”

“I’ve never killed anyone before.”

“You did what you had to do.”

“I know. I just…” Annai sniffled. “Sorry. I won’t cry again. I know how much you hate me doing that.”

Quilla put her arms around her and pulled her close. “Crying’s okay right now.”

Annai held her tightly back and began to sob.

Quilla sobbed with her.

After a short while, their sobs lessened and Quilla said, “We’re going to get through this. I promise.”

Annai pulled back a little and kissed Quilla on the forehead. “We’ll do it together.”

Quilla nodded. “Together.”