Anouk hugged the tunnel wall, pulse loud in her ears. She studied the darkness behind her, vision warped by the blue-and-black world; she dared not move until she was sure she'd lost her share of the howling brood. She'd been overrun a short while back, and Sei had been forced down a different passage, one that led away from the nest.
But she'd managed to hold the agreed-upon route, and he'd catch up if he wasn't dead. Anouk wiped the sweat from her face and continued, feet leaden from the endless trudgery she'd foolishly resigned herself to. The flakes of light she'd seen in the nest were beginning to speckle the air here and there, buoyant and indicating proximity, so at the very least she'd soon earn a respite.
Voices bowled down the narrowing tunnel— the others, just ahead. "It's too bad, really," Ethos was saying. "I mean, the three of us go way back. Like, four centuries back and some change. But I'm not the same person you knew. Obviously. So now would be an excellent time to make peace with the god or deity of your choice, myself included. Syan, I'm sure this comes as a relief of sorts, considering what's become of you."
Anouk slowed as she came upon them. The howling queen was disemboweled like a gutted whale, flayed apart to reveal a strange woman. Syan, presumably, albeit unbelievably. She was stanced quite low, sea snake from the midsection down and lacking any sort of pigment. Baroona had taken a knee beside her, and was clutching his hand like he'd suffered a hit, the evidence being a thrown blade that gleamed out of reach, farther into the cavern.
Ethos stood over them, unconcerned. He seemed to address Baroona. "I killed her, it's true," he admitted. "And I killed Alma, too. You helped with that one. I also killed Rohan and Sutter and Enwyn, and I might've killed Boomer but I can't quite remember. It is what it is."
Anouk kept back at a reasonable distance. "Oi, seabird."
"Alma will end it," Baroona rumbled. "She will. You've seen it."
"Oh, I'm not going anywhere near her," Ethos scoffed. "I don't know what I was thinking, putting myself at risk. I'll just gather up the tono survivors and tell them to forget how to breathe." He crouched a few paces away. "With them gone, I can arrange to have her killed. I've done it before."
Anouk took a few steps closer. Louder, she called out, "Ethos."
Baroona sneered. "You can't break prophecy."
Ethos stared at him. Bluntly, he just said, "Fuck prophecy."
"Oi, Ethos." Anouk felt invisible. She was near him now; not quite near enough to touch, but well within the realm of noticeability. She swallowed hard. "Answer me."
Ethos glanced up, clearly annoyed. "Don't interfere."
"Are you still in there, seabird?"
"I'm fine. If you want to be king, shut up and watch."
She eyed the other two. "I thought you wanted Peter to be king."
"Peter can't be king. He's too obsessed with me. It's a textbook inferiority complex propagated by frequent episodes of displacement and repression. Idealization. Devaluation. Aggression giving way to abuse of power giving way to gratification and self-actualization giving way to borderline sadism and an exhausting propensity for violence. He's a psychological nightmare." Reminded, Ethos turned to address Syan. "Right, I forgot to tell you," he said. "I'm ascending the Battlefrosts. Making amends."
"Amends?" Anouk cut in, inviting their eyes. "For what?"
Ethos returned to his feet and indicated the glaring she-beast. "She invented Redbeard, like I said," he explained. "Our fearless leader before we reached Karna. Syan Littlefield, daughter of Arc."
Baroona's glower deepened, if possible. "I should've killed you ages ago."
But he wasn't all Eadric. He was Ethos, too. They were tangled up in there, bouncing around. "Oi, seabird," she said. "You're not disappearing on me, are you?"
His eyes slid to her. "I'm not going anywhere."
"It'd be a crime to put you down. Pretty thing like you."
Mild irritation transitioned to anger. Ethos faced her. "Call me pretty again."
She hooked his ankle with hers and shoved him, knocking him flat in the mess and the muck. He reacted as she thought he might, with the ease of practice; his foot came up to fight her off, blade rising to follow through, and though she'd have liked to see him try, she parried the foot and stamped on the blade. She brought in a knife to keep him still, just as she had in the forest.
"Hands, seabird. Slow like."
He glared at her, breathing hard.
She scowled. "I'll seriously cut you, seabird."
The glare flashed like good, polished steel, but Ethos put up his hands regardless. "You have ten seconds to get off of me," he said. "I'll forget this happened."
"I cleaned that puddle of piss, you know." It took a moment for Ethos to process, to recall what he'd said of her mother. She waited for his confusion to fade. "Revenge appeals to me more than like," she reminded him. "Get your shit together, seabird."
Ethos blackened. "This island is mine."
Anouk threw a punch at his jaw. For good measure, she threw another. She seized him and brought the knife back up. "You're not Eadric," she said. "Say it with me."
"I'm not Ethos, either," he growled, teeth flashing red. "I'm nobody."
"You're somebody. You're seabird. You're pretty and shiny. You said you'd be mine."
Some of his rage bled away. He looked confused again, and his voice was rough when he finally answered. All he said was: "I know what it feels like to break my own fingers."
Anouk hadn't needed to ask anyone to know what had mangled his hand; she'd been able to tell by the way he'd hidden it, by the way he'd avoided their eyes when questioned. He did the same now, just a turn of the face. "Sorry, seabird," she said, quietly. "I can't fix that."
A hard blow caught her in the back of the head, and it took a frustrating stretch of time to regain her bearings. She found herself a short distance away, belly up in the cooling viscera. Something was caught in her eyelashes— water, sprinkling in from above. Anouk rolled over, slow-moving.
Baroona had risen. He'd gripped Ethos hard by his wounded shoulder and forced him up from the ground, to his knees. "Apologize," he instructed. "Her first."
He meant Syan, who seemed less than thrilled by his method. "Stop," she said, gray eyes jumping between the two men. "It's not really him. He's dead."
"Don't let him trick you," Baroona insisted. "He's in there— you heard him."
"Aye, maybe." She then gestured at Ethos, lost for words. "But this is a kid. A victim."
Baroona ignored her. He tightened his grip and repeated, "Apologize."
Ethos answered behind clenched teeth. "I'm sorry."
"Now to me," Baroona said. "Apologize."
Those green eyes slowly rose to him. "No. You'll kill me if I do."
Indeed. Baroona's knife threw off the light. "Apologize. You know what you did."
"Stop," Syan barked. "It doesn't mean anything from him."
"It means everything from him!"
The outburst was unlike Baroona. He was always so collected, so sure of himself and his place in the world. It was hard to predict what he'd do without the composure that kept him grounded. Ethos was staring up at him, maybe thinking the same.
Baroona met his eyes. Again, he said, "Apologize."
"I'm not him," Ethos maintained. "In your heart you know it."
"You answer to Hans. You have his memories, his personality. It's enough."
"I'm a ghost of a dead man. Killing me won't make you feel better." Ethos continued to stare, to wait, carefully unmoving. But then— something subtly changed in his face. "I didn't enjoy the lie," he promised. "But I enjoyed the early years. I didn't plan to kill anyone."
"You enjoyed the lie plenty. You said it was fun."
"I was baiting you."
"You were being honest for once."
An old argument, perhaps. Another distressing silence ensued. "I'm sorry," Ethos said. "I'm sorry I killed them. I'm sorry about the invasion, and for lying about my intentions."
Baroona's bearing went darker still. "I wish I believed you."
Several things happened at once. Ethos seized the hand on his shoulder just as Baroona raised his knife, and, curiously, the huntsman froze, weapon high in the shimmering air. And in that moment of paralyzed confusion, a cutlass burst from his torso.
Sei. He'd rejoined the group and chosen a side, much to Baroona's silent dismay. Anouk had seen it before, too many times; the expression that accompanied unjust realities. Disbelief. Rejection. Blood pattered like a slow applause.
Sei yanked the blade free, dropping Baroona, and the rage in his eyes leapt right to Ethos, as if he were somehow at fault for the act. Sensing danger, Ethos put up his hands in surrender for the second time that day. Redbeard's mark was fading on one. The other was turned completely black.
Sei kicked him square in the chest. "God damn you!"
Ethos landed hard in front of Syan, who quickly thought to recover his sword; she brought it up to stop Sei's approach and gathered Ethos up one-armed, serpentine body curling about. "Calm, Sei," she warned. "It's good to see you, but stop." Her eyes moved to Anouk. "You, too."
Anouk paused, half risen. "I saved you when he took a turn."
"Aye, and I appreciate that," Syan replied. "Stay put or I'll let them have you."
Creaking slowly pervaded the nest, and Anouk took note with a sinking sensation that each of the tunnels was filling with howlings. "You're controlling them," Ethos was first to realize, observing how they stayed at a distance. He glanced behind him, at Syan. "Hive mind?"
She smiled, and it was sad. "He did enjoy his science fiction."
"That's amazing. How many can you control at once?"
"All eight thousand and something, it seems. They're the itch in my throat." She took a moment to glare at Sei, until the huntsman dropped his weapon. "Check on Baroona," she instructed. "What's done is done. Please do what you can."
With one last livid glare at Ethos, Sei went to his friend as instructed. Anouk didn't need to check Baroona's vitals to know his status. She suspected Sei didn't need to, either.
To Ethos, Syan said, "Explain yourself."
"Explain myself how?"
"How you came to exist."
His eyes fell away, briefly, before quickly returning. "The tono kept Alma sealed for centuries after the war ended," he said. "She managed to create me during that time. Eadric calls me a clone." He began to pull away, but stopped when he saw Sei's furious glance. "The colors are off," he added, as if it mattered. "I wasn't supposed to be tono. It's why I was mistaken for Ethos when I was a child."
"Clone?" she echoed, in doubt. "Ballsch. You were channeling him."
"He's been with me since he died. We're cohabitating."
She frowned. "Symbiotic?"
"Parasitic."
She smirked at the look on his face. "You scowl like him."
Ethos didn't seem frightened by her. He turned around to look at her square, partly crouched. His pleasant expression had calmed a great deal. "I have a use for you," he confessed, searching her eyes, interest piqued. "What would I need to trade in return for your cooperation?"
Her smile dissolved. "Is Alma alive?"
"Regrettably."
"Then bring her to me."
"I'd much rather bring you to her."
Syan studied him. "What is it you want?"
"Nothing big. I just need your offspring to follow us."
Anouk finished rising. "Ethos," she said. "I'm by right to kill her."
Ethos glanced after a long moment, maybe reluctant. "We'll talk about it on the ship," he said, firm of voice. "Please be patient. It's what's best for Flint." Instead of waiting for her to respond, he turned back to Syan and asked, "Do we have a deal?"
But her eyes were all for Anouk. "This one's got a claim on my life?"
"She does," he answered. "I needed her talents and assets. It was what she demanded."
"Then why should I trust you to keep your word?"
"I wasn't lying to her." Ethos stole another glance at Anouk. "I wasn't lying to you," he assured her, to be clear. "I just need an extension. A short one."
He had something wily in mind. Anouk could see how privately eager he was, struggling to hide the restless machine behind his eyes. "Aye," she grumbled, nodding just once. "We'll talk when we're back on the ship. No games."
Ethos split into a grin. "No games."
"Turkey. Don't smile at me while you say that."
Syan sighed, not quite pleased or irked to speak of. Maybe she'd tired of time in the hole. "As long as you get me to Alma," she settled. "I don't blame you. I know what I am."
Ethos might have understood her resignation. He didn't seem surprised. He stood and assessed the howling horde before his gaze fell back on the huntsmen. Little by little, his strange humor faded. "Sei," he said. "Thank you. I knew I could trust you to protect your interests."
Sei was still sitting beside Baroona, head bent forward, hands in his lap. "I don't want to see you again after this," he replied. "Ever."
"Alright. Are we taking the body with us?"
"The body," Sei echoed, disparagingly. "You really are a monster."
"A body is what it is, Sei." Ethos watched the color returned to his fingers. The cuts and bruises on his face smoothed over. "He was on his way out as you cut him down," he said. "Maybe you can find some comfort in that. You didn't land the finishing blow."
Sei looked up. "Is he like Hans now?"
"Yes and no," Ethos replied, and he shook out his hand as if it were sticky. "He left his mark and went on his way. The situation with Eadric is abnormal."
"You didn't need to cross him over."
Ethos smiled, apologetic. "It's my way," he said. "And I needed to heal."
It took Sei a few seconds to understand. He demanded, "Did you provoke him on purpose?"
"I'm not that calculating. It just happened to work in my favor this time." Ethos motioned him up from the ground. "Stand, please," he suggested. "We're losing daylight."
Sei didn't move. "Do you even care that he's dead?"
"Sure, I care. But it's different for me."
"Different? Different how?"
"Different like— " Ethos made an ambiguous, incomplete gesture. "Logically, I know it's sad," he explained. "But at the same time I'm suddenly remembering how you stuffed that piece of clay up your nose when we were kids. I had to get it out for you with a split twig."
Ethos had begun to smile, but the look on Sei's face made it quick to wilt. "You're pure evil," Sei said, quietly. "You're pure evil and you don't even know it."
If Ethos was bothered or hurt at all by that, Anouk couldn't tell. The smile crept back. "Stand up," he instructed. "Be decisive."
Sei stood. "I'll return to help with the women. I shouldn't be long."
Dripping water. Creaking. Shuffling. Sei wiped down his blade in the not-quite-silence, hoisted his friend, and left. Anouk never grew tired of seeing the tono take to the air, the ease with which they slipped between forms. Shifters, so called. Redbeard's words.
Syan spoke when Sei was a speck in the shaft above them. She seemed comfortable, cushioned by her fishlike entrails. "I didn't think he'd listen to you," she remarked. "But earlier— you said you'd make them forget how to breathe. It's by design?"
"That's right. I have a certain degree of control over them." Hands in his pockets, Ethos watched a feather whirl to the ground at his feet. "When Alma's gone, he and his people will have all they need to start over," he said. "I'll leave them alone. It's the least they deserve."
"To be clear, you won't be suffocating them."
"No," he replied, and he glanced at Anouk. "I'm not Eadric, after all."
A private moment, a ghost of humor in his eyes. "Next time I'll really cut you," Anouk said, with a harmless glower. "I'll do it, seabird. I'll cut you."
He chuckled and took her hand, drew her in. "I think I'm okay," he replied. "The learning curve is a little intense, but I think I'm starting to get a handle on it."
"So you don't really think you're Baroona?"
"Oh, I'm all sorts of people." Ethos turned back to Syan then, sociably presenting Anouk. "This is Anouk," he said. "She's a 20th generation Battlefrost. Daggeir's direct descendant."
Syan smiled a little. "Aye, I can tell just by looking at her."
"How do you feel right now?"
A quick subject change; he'd probably been dying to know. Her head tilted as if to catch a distant sound. "The bones in my back are starting to shift," she said. "It's the ire, foul like, restless. It grows like something alive in my blood."
"Eadric never got close to a cure. Did you?"
Her drifting eyes jumped back to his face. "Why ask?"
"There's a girl like you in the world outside. It's Alma's doing."
Syan's skin literally rippled with hatred. "That vile witch, polluting the air with her envy."
"Can you help?"
She was quiet, expression moving in subtle ways. She glanced between them. "This girl out there," she said, stopping on Ethos. "She's someone you love? Someone close?"
"No," he replied. "It's a rocky friendship. I don't feel much towards her."
"Then why would Alma have brought her back?"
"At the time I felt guilty for her death." His hand constricted, marginally, around Anouk's. "Alma wanted me to be relieved," he said. "I was to celebrate the miracle."
"She likes how helpless we are to stop the turn."
"Yeah. I think so, too."
She fell silent, lips pressed together. She beckoned him closer. "Come here," she said. "I'd like a better look at you."
"I'd like my sword back."
She tossed it at his feet. "You'd be dead by now if I'd wanted you so."
"Humor me." Ethos sheathed the blade and traded a subtle glance with Anouk. Precaution, she realized. He wanted her to supervise the exchange. "It's been about a month," he continued, and he crouched with Syan. "She's since tried to eat me and lost some sense. She's dangerous."
"Aye, the hunger. It will worsen. Raise your face and come closer."
He did, without protest. "What do I have to do?"
Syan ignored him, devoted to her quiet assessment. "He's in there with you, yeah?" she asked. "He can hear us?"
"Sort of."
"Let me speak to him."
His gaze slid away. "I don't think that's wise."
She touched his chin to catch his eyes. "Don't worry," she told him. "He'll be good when he sees which of us has the high ground. He's a survivor."
Ethos was very still, a paradigm of stony reluctance. "It's a bad idea. He's unkind."
She blinked, and then burst into surprised laughter. She gave him a friendly pat on the knee. "You still have a lot to learn," she teased. "Put him on and take five. It'll be fine."
He scowled at her. "I'm not a telephone."
"Careful, seacalf. Loose lips."
He glanced at Anouk and said nothing further. "Fine," he allowed, and he settled in. "Don't expect him to be exactly like you remember. Some overlapping was inevitable despite my efforts to keep us from assimilating."
She raised a pale eyebrow. "Overlapping?"
"Obviously. I've changed him as much as he's changed me." He closed his eyes with a sigh. "I always say it's a bad idea," he muttered. "Nobody listens."
Syan leaned forward to watch him, and a chill made its rounds through the foul reeking nest. And while Ethos underwent no visible change beyond a mild straightening in his posture, his bearing was completely transformed by the time that his eyes reopened.
"Rick," Syan greeted. "It's been a while."
"Syan. How terrifying. You look like some sort of sea monster."
"Aye, and this from the great human botfly, forcing his soul under tono skin."
Eadric carefully surveyed the chamber. "What do you want?"
"I'd love to twist your head off your shoulders."
"But we both know you won't."
"Consider yourself lucky."
"So I'll ask again. What do you want?"
Syan's smile was cheerless, poignant. Miserably, she said, "Report."
He stared at her. "It's been 452 years since I left you here," he answered. "Fourteen more since we landed. There's young war between our descendants."
"Of course there's war. There's always war. How's the population rate?"
"I keep it sustainable." Eadric looked down at his hands. He clasped them. "Everyone from back home is dead," he said. "The last was Sara Lane, Nathan's youngest. I was with her when she passed."
Syan placed her hands over his. "How have you survived all this time?"
He met her eyes. "I studied the old terran arts," he said. "Through alchemy I was able to develop a technique to prolong my existence."
"The boy said you murdered Rohan."
"I did. His son was grown and easier to control."
"And Sutter? What happened with him?"
"Sutter was intrusive."
Syan let the silence breathe, maybe to give him time to explain. Her smile returned when he didn't continue. "He was right," she said. "You're quieter now."
"I don't know what to say to you."
"Are you ashamed?"
"Could be. I've never felt ashamed before."
"Ballsch. You had a conscience before you were Hans Redbeard."
His expression was bored, statuesque. "Why is it so important for you to see Alma?"
At first she returned his disposition, but then she abruptly sat forward and laughed; it spilled from her throat, husky and spirited. "I can't get over this kid's face," she said. "He's a dead ringer. It's like we're back at the lake, no wiser."
"The colors are off."
"He said that, too." She happily studied him. "How much longer you got, Rick?" she asked. "You look like you're really struggling. Is it hard to talk?"
"You should be in awe of me, that I can move a single finger."
She did her very best awestruck impression. "A single finger," she echoed. "You're so cool, Hans Redbeard. When I grow up I wanna be just like you."
Eadric glowered. "Careful, Syan."
"You always talked big for such a small man."
She'd clearly struck a nerve. Drily, he said, "Observe."
All it took was a twitch of that finger. Syan lurched forward twice as if she might vomit, and then coughed up a pool of black, squirming bile. The ends of her hair became dark with it, slung round her face, sliding and slopping from slick, heaving shoulders. Strange convulsions devoured her back.
Eadric watched on. "Ethos can manipulate organic matter," he said. "Ipso facto, we both can."
He must have retracted whatever he'd done, because Syan gasped and steadied her breathing. She spat on the ground. "Gutless whelk," she said. "You'd have ended this ages ago if you cared so little."
Confusion crossed his face— a familiar expression, more like Ethos. "I loved you."
Syan seemed to share his confusion. After a pause, she asked, "Rick?"
"Yes." But he didn't elaborate. His eyes fell. "No."
"You still with me, Eadric?"
A moment passed. Eadric eventually glanced at her. "You're right," he said. "It's a struggle. We'll be neither of us in the end."
"Just desserts and suchlike."
"It wouldn't be so bad if he'd stop fighting it. This slow going nonsense is torture." They briefly stared at each other, suffering in their own ways. "I'll do it," Eadric said. "I'll kill you if it's what you want. I don't feel things like I used to."
Surprisingly, she managed a smile. "Sweet talker."
"Do you want me to?" he asked. "I can probably make it painless."
Her smile faded, but lingered. "Nah," she said. "It wouldn't be right if I didn't go swinging."
"I thought you might say that."
"Aye, Battlefrost suits me better than Littlefield."
Eadric's expression finally softened. He moved some of the hair from her face, cleaned a spot on her cheek with his thumb. "Baroona shouldn't have been here for this," he said. "Do you hate me?"
A sound from above stopped her from answering. The light up there was beginning to darken, to turn from gold to a deep ochre haze, but Sei was somehow still visible against it— a tiny black speck, wings slowly beating at air.
Eadric had gone when Anouk checked back. She couldn't have said how she knew. Ethos glanced up when he felt her eyes and forced a sad, tight-lipped smile.
"Seabird," she said. "You alright?"
He nodded, but he didn't speak. He instead busied himself with Syan's snakelike lower extremity, moving the viscera submerging it. "She's still connected to the casing," he murmured, low-gazed. "I'm afraid she'll bleed out if we cut her free."
Syan stopped him. Softly, she said, "I'm sorry."
Another forced, tight-lipped smile. Another nod to end the exchange. "Me too."
Sei landed farther away than seemed reasonable, unfriendly expression offset by distress. His eyes were strange, itinerant things, jumping about from place to place. "We might have a problem," he said, uncharacteristically quiet. "We're not alone up there."
Anouk frowned. "What is it?"
"A Battlefrost rig."
"Did you get a look at the archboard?"
"It's the Retaliant. Sam's a mess, says it appeared by magic."
Ethos swore and rubbed at his face. "Peter," he said. "He's supposed to be off the coast."
All was silent. Anouk muttered, "They'll have a pother aboard. We could use them."
"I know." Ethos stood and rolled back his sleeves. "Let's get this done with," he sighed, and he looked at Anouk. "I'll need your tourniquet."