Ethos couldn't have said with certainty how many hours they'd trudged that first day in the bowels of Roheim. They could've fought well into morning for all he knew of the time. But he kept up with the others despite the toll that his wound had taken, untiring for all but a break here and there, which made it come as a bit of a shock when he woke in one of the dark tunnel alcoves. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten there.
A viridium sword was warming his lap, illuminating the derelict room. The fact that he was sitting up facing an open door meant he must have nodded off while on watch, but Anouk was the same, asleep on his shoulder, so at least he hadn't gone down alone. His back was cold against the wall; two hours, maybe. Maybe longer. The temperature dropped the farther they climbed.
The room looked like it had once been a study, evidence being the bones of a nearby inkwell. It was vaguely familiar. "They were sophisticated, the terrans," Eadric would have said, to his left. "More so than the tono. We scavenged these ghost cities, stripped them clean."
Sei and Baroona were nowhere to be found. Scouting, most like. Ethos sighed, breath clouding in front of his eyes, hands warming themselves on the blade. Anouk's heat was just as inviting, swallowing up his entire right side. Her face had a gentler quality to it than when she was awake.
"It's not much farther," Eadric went on, calmly. "You'll make it."
Ethos stared at the door. "You need to stop talking to me."
"It's not on purpose. The line's getting blurry."
"That's why I said it was a bad idea. You never listen."
Eadric sniggered at him. "We'll disappear if you leave us like this."
A terrifying thought. Smaller and smaller— "Disappear on your own time."
No answer came, so Ethos glanced. His bags were there, propped against the wall where he'd left them, and he shouldn't have been so surprised. A tiny seed of disappointment came and went like a foul breeze; he'd wanted Eadric to glance back, he realized, to smile smugly and act like he had a plan of some sort. To take the burden. To be responsible.
Someone picked the dried blood out of his hair. Anouk. "It's okay, seabird," she said. "If you do disappear, I'll find you."
Ethos was too mortified to meet her eyes. He probably looked insane. Rather than make an attempt to explain himself, he cleared his throat and asked, "Where are the others?"
"Scouting. Who were you talking to?"
"I'm not crazy."
"Never said you were."
"I just know what it must look like."
Anouk was quiet for a lengthy moment. When she finally spoke again, her drawl was brushed with throaty amusement. "You're embarrassed," she knew. "Let me see your face."
Ethos rebelled, resisting her pull. "Stop smiling."
"Oho. How do you know I'm smiling?"
"I can hear it in your voice." Her fingers in his hair felt nice, tugging out hardened pieces of mud, freeing the here-and-there tangled-up bits. Kacha had often done the same. At the thought of her, a fresh rush of exhaustion leadened his limbs. Ethos sagged forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Softly, he repeated, "I'm not crazy."
She feigned a sigh. "It's always the pretty ones."
He glanced sidelong to retort, to bite back, knowing full well it was what she wanted. But her cheerful belligerence was curiously absent. Lit from below by the sword in his lap, her sly, flinty eyes were filled with warmth.
He looked back at the ground. "I thought I told you to stop smiling."
"I can't do that, seabird. Not when I'm happy." Her cleaning had turned to peaceful touching, not so much for purpose, but pleasure. Still, it felt nice. Sleep pulled at his heavy eyelids. "So soft," he heard her say. "It's like fur."
A compliment. "Thank you."
"Do you remember him killing my mom?"
The drowsiness faded, slowly at first. Then faster. " 'Him?' "
"Eadric. Redbeard. Father. Clone. Whatever he is to you. Whatever you call him."
Eadric laughed, beside him again. "Ronen," he leered. "A spitfire, obviously. Nobody else could have suffered Tritan. Just look at how her daughter turned out."
A spitfire, maybe, but Ronen had been admirable. Very consistent. She'd always put her people first. He'd been uncharacteristically irresolute when it came to ending her life; in fact, he hadn't even made up his mind until five minutes prior to the act. Anouk gave his hair a soft tug. "I'm listening, seabird," she told him. "I won't always be."
Ronen should have been more careful. She'd known what breaking the treaty meant. Ethos blinked and glanced over. "The furnace," he said. "It was just sitting there."
"What was?"
"Her hammer," he answered. "I'm sure Tritan put two and two together when he found it in her puddle of piss. Even he's not that dense."
Anouk just stared at him, and he didn't really understand why. But she didn't seem angry, and she should have, he knew; he'd said something cruel again. The truth of it sank in little by little, made worse somehow by her nonresponse. Eadric was laughing somewhere.
"I'm sorry," Ethos said. "I wasn't— "
"I know, seabird." Maybe his expression had slipped. With just her thumb, she lightly traced one of his eyebrows. "You're not him," she said. "Not really. Not yet. I won't avenge her until you are."
"You said you'd bring me back if I disappeared."
"I like you, seabird," she replied, and her smile grew. "I do. I like you a lot. But revenge appeals to me more than like. Sorry."
It was because she'd loved her mother so much, and why Ethos knew that his time was short. The parts that Ludo had said he was missing, the parts that would come with time and patience… they'd never been intended for him. He knew that now. It's why he'd aimlessly wandered the island, and why Shima's death still hadn't hit him. It was why Eadric had found him so easily.
He'd been made empty for a reason.
Ethos sat back, bumping shoulders with her. "I guess it's good we're not taking this seriously," he said, with a smile. "Already making death threats. Talk about progressive."
"Aye, be afraid," she teased. "They call me jackal."
"Some call me monster."
"You're no monster. You're a seabird, seabird."
"You don't think I'm a monster?" he asked. "Even after all this?"
"Nah," she scoffed. "Monsters don't look like you. Monsters look like monsters."
Ethos picked up her hand, fingers lacing together with hers. He held her eyes and watched for the telltale flicker of uncertainty. "I can make things die just by touching them," he said. "Has anyone told you that? Peter, maybe?"
"That's not a thing, seabird."
"It is. It's definitely a thing. It's my thing."
"Your thing is treebine and old war god grudgery." But she was staring down at their hands now, not quite afraid, more alarmed by the notion. "How did you find out?"
An odd question to start with. "By accident."
She quickly glanced back up at him, grey eyes catching viridian light. She didn't say sorry or attempt to console him; her expression was more than enough. "You turkey," she said. "You're tougher than you come off, you know."
"Oh, yeah? How do I come off?"
"First impression?" Her smile crept back. "A mouse."
He laughed in surprise. "Why a mouse?"
"Because I wanted to chase you."
"You did chase me."
"Be lucky I did. Them tono boys would've opened you up."
Ethos remembered it well. He squeezed her hand. "Yeah," he said. "Thanks again for that."
She jerked her chin at him. "What was your first impression of me?"
He'd dreamt of her after the long sleep, during his stay at the Thompson farm. That first night. He hadn't known what to make of her then. "It's a little different for me," he admitted. "I have these —I don't know— visions, I guess. Dreams. So I sort of knew about you already."
Her eyebrows jumped. "You're a prophet."
"It's not nearly as impressive as it sounds," Ethos said. "I get glimpses. They're usually too out of context to be useful in any way." He thought of how she'd saved him in Harken, how she'd towered, sword raised. He shook his head and chuckled, "I was sure you were meant to kill me."
She glowered, jokingly. "Barnacle. I knew you recognized me."
"It was visceral, the glimpse. I was wary." He met her eyes. "I didn't like fighting when I first dreamt of you," he said. "You frightened me."
"Do you like fighting now?"
"More than I did. But I'm not all me anymore."
His answer gave her good reason to pause. "Not all you?"
"I can take a life and assimilate with it," he explained. "Its knowledge and behavior become part of my construct." The ghost of Oubi stirred. "The first man I killed was an Oldden soldier. He excelled at his job. I'm able to protect myself now because of him." But he smirked and added, "Of course, his various insecurities also became my various insecurities. I take the good with the bad."
Anouk's eyes rounded. "Is that why you have Redbeard's memories?"
Ethos shrugged, reluctant to rehash the gritty details. "What happened with him was unavoidable," he grumbled. "But I thought I could isolate him, freeze the process halfway through and prevent us from blending together. It worked at first, but the walls are breaking."
"Is he the one you were talking to?"
"He comes and goes. He's not like the others." The endless repair of a failing levee. Ethos drearily looked at his wrist, where the handprint, once black, had begun to fade. "His construct isn't normal," he went on. "There are thousands he marked. It's like putting off the tide."
They were quiet a while. "Well, shit, seabird," she eventually said, and her smile was back when he glanced her way. "Sounds like you're in for it. What's the plan?"
Anouk's smile was contagious, hard as he resisted. "Short term, destroy the nest," he said. "Long term, keep Peter distracted while Oldden and the Bonesteels destroy one another."
She tilted her head. "You don't want him involved in the fight?"
"No," he replied, honest for once. "The Rift could end very badly. Karna's going to need someone to pick up all the pieces."
"But why Peter of all people?"
"Because he's qualified. And I know him."
"I know him, too, seabird. He's an overbearing halfwit."
"He's got flaws, but he's a good person. He does what he thinks is right."
Anouk scowled at him. "He's a seacalf. I could run this country in circles around him."
Ethos turned against the wall to see her square. Her hair was sticking up on one side, tangled by all manner of things. With a crooked grin, he asked, "You want to be king?"
"Laugh at me and I'll sever your gullet. Go on, laugh. I dare you. Spriggan."
"I had no idea. You'd be the littlest king in Karnan history. I love it."
A roguish smile spread. "We could do it, you and I."
"Are you proposing to me?"
"Aye, be my queen."
"Tempting, but no."
"No? Pretty thing like you?"
"None of the dresses would fit me."
"Then what about the other way around?"
"I don't think turning them backward will help." Ethos watched her laugh; it was heartier than Kacha's laugh, less refined than Una's. Bells in his ears. He said her name to invite her eyes. "We'll be splitting up once we're done here," he explained. "I doubt we'll see each other again."
Anouk's smile gradually faded away. She leaned in close as if to kiss him, but stopped just short of his lips. She said, "It isn't the punishment you think it is, seabird."
He tried to read her expression. "What isn't?"
"Being king. Having people who believe in you. Protecting them."
Wryly, Ethos smirked. "Right, because it went so smoothly the first time."
"You're not him," she reminded him. "Not really. Not yet."
"If you were my booger I'd pick you first."
"Oi, write your own lines." They laughed together, voices bouncing around in the darkness. Anouk subsided first, still smiling. "I am serious, Ethos," she said, eyes moving over his face, committing him to memory. "On all accounts. Consider it."
"You called me Ethos."
"Aye, so you know I mean business."
"And here I thought we were just having fun."
"We are." Anouk squeezed his hand back. "But sooner or later, you're going to realize how much you want to survive this," she said. "You'll need to make some life decisions, plan for the future and suchlike. Come find me when you do."
Ethos studied her. "You don't think I want to survive?"
"I think you've taken some hits," she replied. "And I think you're tired. And I think this so-called destiny of yours is starting to sound like an easy way out."
He could hear Baroona and Sei from a distance. They were talking, just out of earshot. "I can't go home," he said. "It belongs to the tono now."
"So share the forest."
"But they're all afraid of me."
"Then make a new home. You've got hands."
His gaze had drifted. He glanced back in mild confusion. "I thought you'd want me to stay in Flint with you," he said. "You have the right to demand it. I'm pledged and all."
"And make the decision for you? That's weak, seabird. Don't use me." But then she smiled, as if at a thought. She moved away from the wall. "Is that it?" she asked, partly teasing. "Do you like having decisions made for you?"
He shrugged. "It's not that I like it."
"But it's easier. To let someone else take the leap."
Her eyes were so bold. "Yeah," he admitted. "You always knew what to do."
"Did I?" She moved his blade to the floor. "That's funny, seabird."
"What's funny about it?"
She contentedly nestled in with him, her back to his chest. He hugged her. "You're thinking I'm Syan," she said. "I didn't realize how much Redbeard relied on her."
Anouk. Right. Ethos inhaled— northern spices, sweat and soot. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay. Do I remind you that much of her?"
"I've forgotten now. But you must."
"It was Syan's idea to merge with the tono," Eadric muttered, voice floating in from the shadows themselves. "She invented Hans Redbeard to tempt Alma, to get one of ours in a seat of power. I had to memorize everything about him, down to his childhood. Down to his scars."
Anouk sank against him. "So it was a sham?"
"We were weak when we first arrived," he explained. "We were starving. And suddenly there were these people, these shifters, insisting that we meet their god." Saying it aloud still felt absurd. "A god, I thought. Ridiculous. Gods don't exist."
"But then you met her."
"Obviously."
"Did you ever love her?"
"No. I loved Syan. But I was the only one who could pull off the act." He uncurled her hand and counted off fingers, chin propped on her shoulder. "Sutter, Rohan, and Daggeir," he murmured. "These were the other men in our council. Sutter was too honest. Rohan, too cruel. Daggeir had a wife and children. All of them could keep the secret, but only I could play the game. Syan knew it. She stood by for years and watched me be with someone else."
She pulled him into a thumb war and said, "Oi, seabird."
"She was tough. Tougher than me. That's why you remind me of her."
"Oi, seabird." Anouk craned her neck to look at him. "Are you still in there?"
"Sure," Ethos replied, and he moved the hair out of her eyes. "Why?"
"You were regaling me with the Redbeard origin story."
A mild cause for alarm. "Was I?"
"Aye, and your huntsmen are staring."
Sei and Baroona were in the open doorway, swords loose at their sides. Their expressions read like a bent pair of trees. "Shifters," Sei echoed. "You know you're one of us, right?"
Baroona sheathed his sword. "We found the nest," he said. "Get up."
Ethos motioned for the hunters to join them. "There's no need to rush it," he said. "Come sit and explain the situation, please."
Sei was first to approach. His weariness seemed the greatest. He knelt beside them and drew a map in the grime on the floor. "It's this huge cavern, see," he said. "Full of howlings. And there are a ton of other channels that lead into it. Twenty, maybe."
"Fifty," Baroona cut in, crouching with him. "There are at least fifty."
"Yeah, okay, fifty," Sei continued. "And there are eggs."
Ethos crinkled his nose. "Like bird eggs?"
"More like fish eggs."
Baroona inserted, "Big fish eggs."
Anouk glanced between them. "How big?"
"Howling big," Sei said. "And they're everywhere. The walls, the ceiling— "
"There was strange sediment in the air," Baroona remarked. "I couldn't tell what it was."
"Smelled awful. Like something had died and moldered a while."
Ethos waited until they fell silent. "And the source?"
Sei looked at Baroona, who sighed. "It's hard to say," he confessed. "You really need to come see for yourself."
"What did it look like?"
"I honestly don't know how to describe it."
Silence again. Sei asked, "What's our next move?"
Baroona scratched at his head, dissuaded. "We've held them off well enough until now, but we'll die if we try to do this head-on," he said. "There are too many in there. It's a breeding ground."
Ethos grunted to himself. "You said there were other tunnels."
"Have you thought of something?"
"We'd need to split into groups of two." Ethos leaned forward and drew a small circle along the border of Sei's map. "Let's pretend for a moment that Group A will enter through here," he said. "If Group B can lure the howlings into a different tunnel, Group A can safely secure the nest."
Anouk nodded in agreement. "Group B would have to shake them off, double back," she said. "We need some sort of escape plan."
"The ceiling," Sei cut in. "We're up near the peak now."
"Aye, my ears've popped countless," Anouk said. "What's so special about the ceiling?"
"It comes to a shaft. There's water drizzling down from it."
"And light," Baroona added. "It's faint, but it's light."
Ethos met Baroona's eyes. "The sun's up?"
"For now. It's been a full day since we entered the tunnels."
"Sundown," Anouk agreed, and she stretched. "We made fine time, considering."
"Peter should be about a third of the way to Wulfstead by now," Ethos said. "They'll moor behind the Shoulder if they're smart. If the wind's fair."
Sei frowned at him. "Shoulder?"
"Redbeard's Shoulder. It's a headland."
"It must be strange having everything named after you."
Ethos just nodded, too out of sorts to be anything short of honest. "He's everywhere."