+++++++++++++++++++

  “What!?” Harriet scoffs as the lift doors open. “Who the hell gets married fer only two days?!”

  “I KNOW!” Astrid bounces in the air. “I. Know!”

  With the thirtieth floor before them, both women walk ahead. They’ve changed into borrowed hoodies and bright leggings - cheap, and girlish, yes, but the closest Harriet’s come in a long time to wearing clothes that feel normal. Yet Astrid is clearly more excited. waltzing her way backwards so that Harriet can see her wildly expressive arms.

  “Fifty-five hours!” The young vampire says. “She told the divorce judge it was a whim. A WHIM!? Okay, Britney. ‘Ow the fahk do you’se get a ring, a minister, a fahkin’ red carpet, A WHITE GODDAMN LIMOSINE, ‘fore goin’... WAIT! Do I even know this fahker!?”

  Harriet chuckles. “Were they drunk?”

  “Naw, naw, priest insists they’re not! Though, he also let ‘er marry in fahkin’ jeans, so what does ‘e know?” Astrid slaps her forehead. “California, girl. Feels like, if I went, I’d eivver be dead in three days, or runnin’ the place like royals.”

  “Hey, hey! It wazzun’ like that when I left!” Harriet lifts her hands in defense. “Swear ta God, every time I hear ‘bout that country, it’s only gettin’ stranger.”

  She pauses, looking out the floor's window. A sea of lights greet her, the Sun still hours away. They weren’t gone long.

  “... Well, at least she’ll take her time now, right?” Harriet shrugs.

  “Nope! Married again two months ago.”

  “Seriously!?”

  “Yeah! To fahkin’ K-Fed! An’ he’s a fahkin’ geezer too!” Astrid tuts. “‘Ey tied the knot while his last girl was still preg wiff his second kid!”

  “No!”

  “I KNOW!” Astrid hops about. “An’ she cancelled her tour at Wembley! I made boss-man pay a fortune for dat!”

  “Jesus H.,” Harriet lets loose a little smile. It’s nice, seeing Astrid like this, buoyant and loud without that constant thrum of terror. It reminds her of Aisling, in its way. How that girl could hammer on about Master Chiefs and Spidermen. Seeing Regina really brought something out of her.

  If only Harriet could say the same.

  “So… yer gonna stop listenin’ ta her, then?"

  “Wha?”

  “Ya know, Britney Spears?” Harriet tilts her head. “If ya don’t like what she does, ya don’t gotta buy her music.”

  “If I-” Astrid double-takes. Looks at Harriet like she’s started speaking tongues. “Girl, are you mental?”

  “No! I jes’...” Harriet sighs. Not the battle she ought to be fighting. “There been other news? ‘Bout Blair, the war?”

  “What war?” When Harriet gives her a look, Astrid suddenly brightens. “GOTCHU! I bloody gotchu!”

  “Naw!”

  “You totally thought I di’in know!”

  Harriet pouts. “An’ who’s fault would that be!?”

  “Well, war’s goin’ how it’s been goin’. Never any real news but ‘support the troops!’ ‘support the troops!’ Bush an’ Kerry are goin’ at it in the States ‘bout which was the better soldier durin' who-knows-when, but neivver would let me marry, so I can't give a bloody toss."

  “What ‘bout Afghanistan?” Astrid turns to her, her brow bent. It makes Harriet frown. “Astrid, ya can’t pull the same bit twice.”

  “No, wait, seriously? We's still at war wiff Afghanistan?”

  “Yes? We’ve been there fer three years, why wouldn’t we be?”

  “I-... I dunno.” Astrid shrugs. “I guess ‘ey just stopped talkin’ ‘bout it.”

  Harriet snorts as they slow, reaching the penthouse door. Astrid kneels down, angling her body to hide the keypad from her view. It pisses her off only slightly, now. She folds her hands, breathing through her nose.

  “So…” Harriet bites her lip. “... Regina Dunstan.”

  She can hear the buttons chime. “Mmmhm.”

  “She’s an odd match.”

  “Wuzzat s'posed mean?”

  “Nothin', jes'... you know."

  “No. No, I really don't - oh, fahk!” Astrid missed a key. “‘Arriet, is there a problem?”

  “Naw, naw! Not really, I, jes'...” she chuckles. The door unlocks. “Uh, she… she seems like a… rather extreme-”

  Astrid turns around. Sharply. Glaring daggers. It makes Harriet stop. They both stare in silence for so long that the lock reapplies.

  “Ohhh.” Astrid’s voice is low. “We’re gonna do this now?”

  Harriet squints. “I’m not doin’ anythin’.”

  “You are. Fink I can’t hear it in your voice? You fink Regina’s a loon, an’ I’m just as loony for likin’ her.”

  Harriet can’t stop herself. “Well, are ya gonna try an’ tell me she’s not-”

  Astrid stands. Tall. Quiet. The tension between them is palpable.

  Harriet swallows. “... Astrid, I don’t like it.”

  “Good fing I don’t need your permission.”

  “She’s dangerous! She’s manipulative. I-... whatever person she was once was-”

  “You don’t know what person she is!” Astrid points to the windows. “Stirling. 'At murder, ‘ose speeches? ‘At’s all Lianna’s work! She puts ideas in the Goddess’ head. Makes her scared."

  “She’s tellin’ Regina exactly what the girl wants ta hear!”

  “Oh, an’ you know what Regina wants?”

  “I mean, she made it pretty obvious!”

  “You don’t get it! You don’t get her!” Astrid’s hands squeeze into fists. “You know, Soteris doesn’t ask ‘ese questions! Soteris doesn’t play ‘ese games!”

  “‘Cause Soteris doesn’t care-”

  “An’ you do!?” Astrid blanches. Harriet’s stepping back. Clearly hurt. “‘Arriet… wait, jeez, I-I’m-”

  “No, it’s my fault-”

  “Bullshit. Look, I-”

  “Astrid.” Harriet cuts her off and raises her hands. “It's gone."

  The girl looks at her for a moment, the nervous terror still clear in her eyes.

  “... Okay,” she finally says. “Fanks.”

  A few seconds pass before they awkwardly return to the keypad.

  “She is dangerous,” Astrid says over the beeps. “But I fink it adds somefin’, yeah? If you weren’t a virgin, you'd get it.” The lock clicks, and Astrid pushes the door. “Sometimes, it’s nice to have a lil'-”

  She pales the moment it opens.

  “-danger.”

  The apartment is far neater than they left it. The DVD cases stacked. The brushes and face masks put away. Even Armani the cat seems calm, lounging lazily beside the statue of Hestia. The only sounds are the flickers of the fake fireplace, and the hum of a blue-lit console on the kitchen table. Harriet’s eyes widen when she sees it. A Fireside. Half torn apart, a mess of bolts and circuits and wiring.

  Soteris Chrysanthou stands over the machine, small tools in his hands, and the moment he sees the girls walk in, the moment she hears his darkened voice, Harriet already knows what’s coming.

  “Ladies.” He smiles and sets his tools down. “Good evening.”

  The door closes and locks behind them.

  Astrid's the first to speak. It takes her a few tries. “B-... Boss! Heyyy! H-How’d the talk go wiff Big C-”

  “Poorly,” he interrupts.

  Astrid gulps. Gestures to the door. “We, uh… we was just on a walk, innit? G-Gettin’ ‘at fresh air!”

  “You went for a walk?” He repeats.

  Astrid smiles queasily. “Yeah.”

  “And a dog ate your homework, too? Your phone broke on the way? Astrid, you should have told me that Fireside was gone.”

  “Y-Ya took me ta that bar last week!” Harriet adds. “I-I thought maybe the rules had changed! An' w-we didn’t wanna distract-”

  Soteris raises his voice. “Are we really going to pretend that this was something trivial?”

  Harriet goes quiet, quivering in fear. It makes Soteris scowl, and soon patterns form in his eyes. Astrid catches it. Starts to step in the way. “Boss, wait!”

  “Tell me where you went.”

  The words roll out of Harriet’s mouth. “The Orphean.”

  Astrid freezes, a ghastly white. It’s said with a robotic voice. Calm and formal.

  Soteris sighs, calmly clears his throat, and walks away from the Fireside. They can hear each slow step until at last he’s in front of them.

  Silent.

  Waiting.

  The two girls know better than to look at each other. Harriet exhales, but before she can speak, Astrid steps forward.

  “It was me.” Soteris turns instantly. It makes Astrid’s breath skip, and her body starts to shake. “The… Lianna, sh-she said… if I brought ‘Arriet-”

  “The dhaoine rosín want nothing more than to make you both a bloody pulp!” Soteris hisses. “I’m half-surprised they didn’t try!”

  “‘Ey didn’t want anyfin’!” Astrid replies. “Regina just fancied-”

  “That woman did not get to where she is by following whims or flights of fancy! Nor did your Keeper!” Soteris' veins have started to glow. “Astrid, they were already watching us! Do you have any idea what you’ve done!?”

  Harriet steps forward. “If they’re watchin’ us, why didn’t ya frickin’ tell-”

  “Silence!” Soteris barks the command, and Harriet’s lips seal closed.

  “I know!” Astrid speaks quicker. “Soteris, I know, I know, but… please, you know ‘ow I left fings wiff Regina! Lianna told us-”

  “Us?" Astrid is cut off. Soteris suddenly turns. "You."

  Harriet can feel his eyes on her, and ice travel down her spine.

  “Lianna did this." He points at his Kept. "She sent you a message. You allowed her to make her play-”

  “No!” Astrid raises her arms. “Boss, leave ‘Arriet outta this!"

  “You couldn’t pay Lianna to speak with you!” His eyes shift, their mere glow a threat. “Fireside, speak. Astrid is many things, but a traitor is not one. Tell the truth, and I’ll let her leave.”

  Astrid looks back, shaking her head. “‘Arriet…”

  "Astrid, do not get in my way."

  “... don’t lis-”

  “It’s true!” Harriet blurts it, her voice shaky. She locks eyes with Astrid, her face wilting, before she stops. “God, okay, we get it! We’re in trouble! Thanks fer the memo, Dad! Can we jes’ get this over with!?”

  Harriet flinches. Astrid’s grabbed her arm. Watches Soteris like a mama bear. Soteris sees the girl, too, studies her for a moment, but merely waves his hand.

  “Traynor, you’re dismissed.”

  Her voice is harsh. “No.”

  A second passes. He’s processing. Clearly surprised. “It’s a noble thing, what you’re trying to do. But you are still my allod. Go.”

  “She was good, boss. She stood up for me. Wanted to keep me safe. Please, don’t hurt-”

  “Traynor. You do not want this to be your concern."

  They can all see the intensity in his face.

  “... fahk it! She lets go of Harriet’s arm. “Sure. Fine. I’ll get my fings tomorrow.”

  She walks quickly to Hestia, scoops up Armani, and leaves only with a concerned look towards Harriet’s way.

  “I’ll be back,” she whispers. Pained. “Still owe you a sleepover.”

  And then she’s gone.

  Soteris waits to make sure she’s left, while Harriet tries to stop that familiar feeling that rises in the back of her throat.

  “Are you going to be angry with her again?” Soteris asks.

  Harriet glares back. “Naw."

  “Good. She’s been kind to you.” A frown as he walks close. “Kinder than you deserve."

  Harriet inhales. The fake firepit continues to roar as he studies her, the Fireside’s blue light shining distantly across his face. His cologne is thick and oaken. She can smell it whenever she remembers her nostrils.

  “Which wine do you prefer?” He asks. “Red or white?”

  Harriet squints. “We’re drinkin’?”

  He gives a little smile, then moves back to the kitchen. Hovering over the machine and taking his tools in hand. “I’m hoping it will bring about a more honest conversation.”

  He nods to the seat across from him, but Harriet hesitates. Her eyes flitting to the bedroom door, the bathroom, other exits.

  “Come on.” He smirks. “You won't be strapped to the thing. After what you’ve seen in that sinner's den, do you still think I’m so monstrous?”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  That only makes her brows furrow. Eventually, his smile falls.

  “... Fine." He shrugs. "I won’t bother convincing you.”

  Leaning down, he puts the machine back together. Tightening each screw. Rewiring every circuit.

  "I like assembling it myself," he explains. "Obviously, the team in Scotland is better able, but I think it's important-"

  "Can I skip the lecture this time?" She asks.

  Soteris glares at her. “Stirling invited you. Did she ask after my plans?”

  “Of course.”

  “And did you tell her about Hestia?”

  “No.”

  A brief grin. “Surprising intelligence. I did warn you about the elders. What’s become of them. This last century was hard on… slower minds.”

  “Regina’s my age, Soteris.”

  “I know.” He replaces Fireside’s top and sets it aside. Turning to the wine rack, then her. “Red or white?”

  She shakes her head. “I'm not gonna have drinks if I'm about to be punished."

  “I only told Astrid that you would be punished. I’m less sure what I’ll say to you.” He leans a hand against the wall. “I know it's often futile, right? I could beat you senseless, berate you for hours, lock you in a mask and keep you for five weeks in darkness. But I get the impression that none of them would succeed in bringing us closer together.”

  “Has a punishment ever brought two people closer together?”

  “Only the good ones.” He nods at the table again. "Red or white?

  Her face lowers, but she relents, taking quiet steps towards it. “White.”

  “Excellent choice.” He withdraws a Riesling. “Asking the dhaoine rosín for aid was stupid. Dangerous, and stupid. They would never have helped, even if I hadn’t learned.”

  The chair squeaks as she pulls it out. “Help with what?”

  “Don’t play dumb.” He chides. “You’re not out of the woods yet.”

  Harriet laughs at that, shaking her head. “Alright. They offered, I bit. Almost got stuck on the hook, what of it? Are ya shocked that I wanna escape?”

  “I’m shocked you don’t do it better.” He starts working the cork. “Tell me, where exactly did Stirling fit into your plans?”

  “Not sure. Wanted ta keep avenue open.”

  “Oh, so you don’t actually have an escape plan?”

  She scowls. “I’ve got notions.”

  He chuckles, and the bottle pops as its cork tumbles to the ground. He slowly pours it into two glasses. “It’s all a game to you, isn’t it? Another chance to pose as the Unbound’s princess-in-a-tower before those old suits try and rescue you?”

  “They’re comin’, Soteris.”

  "They seem to be taking their time.”

  “Or ya’ve seen them already, an’ are lyin’ ta me like ya lie ta everyone else.”

  “Actually, you’re the only one I’m not lying to." He lifts the bottle. Both glasses are filled equally. “But if you'd prefer to think they'll rescue you... I won't stop you from pretending."

  He carefully sets both drinks on the table. Harriet looks at hers carefully before swiping it away. Keeping it far from the reach of her Keeper. “Look. I’m sure yer really enjoyin’ the lil’ Goldfinger soiree, but from my end, it's kinda difficult ta have a polite conversation while yer holdin’ torture over my head. C-Can we jes'-"

  “Why?”

  She looks up. “Why what?”

  He holds up a hand, pausing until after he sips. “Why are you still trying?”

  “Ta escape?” She snorts. “Issit not obvious?”

  “Given Hestia’s true purpose, no, I wouldn’t say so.”

  “‘Hestia’s true purpose,’ accordin’ to you.” She points. “I can’t be wowed with trinkets an’ fancy cars, Soteris. I’m not yer other girls.”

  “I never said you were,” he smiles. “And you’re not wrong, perhaps, to mistrust my perspective in light of the… let’s say, less-than ideal circumstance.”

  “Yeah. It’s not fantastic.”

  “But escaping would mean disregarding her's.” He nods to the front door. “And Randall's."

  Harriet pales. Freezes for a just a moment, before taking a long sip of wine.

  “You’ve gotten quite chummy with him, haven’t you?" Soteris asks. "Even if everything I say is hogwash, you know he believes that our kind is in peril. Deep down, I think you know in your gut that he's true."

  She takes another sip. Not making eye contact. "That's-"

  “And Astrid? You know now the madhouse they locked her in, the death sentence she was spared from by my act alone. Clearly, I cared about that. But if your little escape succeeds… if the Unbound actually kill me, where does she go?"

  “I-It’s not like that," she says.

  “Why not? What is it like? Why can’t I get it? Do you think I like having this burden!? Having to argue with you, constantly, about this project that I've dedicated my entire life-"

  “Will you STOP!?”

  The room falls quiet. The table clatters, and Riesling vibrates within its glass. Soteris stays silent, his eyes glowing, while Harriet blinks once. Twice. Opens her mouth and winces at the way her lip trembles.

  “I… don’t care.” Harriet exhales. Closes her eyes. “I don’t have ta care. Maybe yer right! Maybe I'll save lives, maybe it’s the best thing ta ever happen! But I still had no say! It's still not my fight!"

  “And what is your fight?"

  “Ya know which one.”

  “The one that led you here?” He scowls. “The one that’s brought you nothing? The one that ended before I was born, that was over before you-"

  “IT’S NOT!" She stands up, hands on the table, fangs bared. “It’s not! IT’S NOT! Yer fine with this, Soteris, ‘cause it’s all ya’ve ever known! But I’ve seen before. I’ve seen better! Ya think the Court's gonna be less evil 'cause they feel saved?" She sniggers. "Ya can try! I’ve seen men try! An’ every olive branch they give, every convenience they create, every tiny lil’ wonder that’s s’posed ta help the small guys, those demons take it, an’ twist it, an’ use it only fer themselves! Every single time! I’m not gonna help them!”

  “Even if it means our kind dies?”

  “Maybe we should die! Maybe we’re part a’ the problem!"

  “If you really believed that, you wouldn’t still be alive-”

  “YA THINK I WANNA BE!?”

  Harriet stops. The words spilled out of her mouth. She blinks, turns her head, and quietly retakes her seat. Never looking weak, even as every ounce of her body wants to hide her face from him.

  “Punish me," she whispers, her eyes on the white wood. “Get it over with. It won’t matter. I’ll still get out. Won’t stop tryin’ until I do."

  “You won't be punished for this, Fireside."

  A small relief. He sees the way she deflates, smiles, and leaves his chair. Headed for the desk.

  “... I'll punish Astrid instead."

  She turns at once. “What?!”

  “She’s still nearby. I can call."

  "B-but ya said-"

  "Oh, I did, but that was before her little display. Something I cannot allow." He gives her a harsh look. "Perhaps I need to make that clearer."

  He’s moving towards his desk, so she slides out of the chair. “Soteris, wait!”

  “Want to watch? I recall that you found her screams quite enjoyable.”

  Harriet looks horrified. “Sh-she was defendin' me! She didn’t do anythin’-”

  “Defending you?" He scowls. “Fireside, I told you not to play dumb."

  "Wh-what?"

  "Do I look blind? She hasn’t treated me the same since she interrupted us. You've put something in her mind. Got her wrapped in your little conspiracy!"

  “Conspiracy!?”

  “The one you’ve been making with Randall.”

  Harriet’s eyes grow wide.

  "Maybe I need to separate you from him."

  There’s a pit in her gut. The windchimes are chirring. She takes a step back. “S-Soteris-”

  “You can have your little escape schemes, Fireside, but you can’t stop me from thwarting them.”

  “Th-there isn’t a scheme! Th-they're friends?

  “Friends?” His brows knit. “Or allies? That's all it is to you, right? Since you're still trying to escape?"

  “No.” Her breath hitches. “No, no. S-Soteris, y-ya need ta listen. Th-there isn’t anythin’-”

  He slams the counter. “Don’t LIE to me!”

  “I’m not! I’m not!"

  Soteris laughs, his voice dripping with venom. “First, you have your little ‘tests.’ Tests that I can’t see!”

  “Y-Yer actin’ crazy!"

  “So I just imagined Caedmon breathing down my neck?! Asking for a larger share?! At the same time Randall is more quiet, more aloof, more distrusting!?"

  “O-Ohmygod, ohmygod!" She grabs her head. "Soteris, Caedmon what!?"

  "Stop playing me!"

  "I’ve never even met him!"

  “Unless you have!" He points. "Maybe Lianna wasn’t the first! Maybe you’ve seen them all! Lamberg, Wynter! Selling yourself like a common slut!”

  “Jesus, Soteris! Why would I-”

  “ENOUGH LYING!”

  Harriet gulps. His eyes glow, alight with little green patterns, mesmerizing her body, feet planted in place.

  “Are you crying?" He asks.

  She is. She can feel the tears sliding down her cheek.

  "Why?" His face sharpens. "I thought none of this mattered?"

  Harriet bites her lip, shakes her head. “Soteris… please…”

  “We’re going to play a game.” The voice doubles over in her head, boring into her thoughts. “You have yours, after all. I have mine.” He sips at his wine glass. “When I ask a question, you will tell me the truth. And if you say yes, that’s another way I’ll have to hurt Astrid.”

  The aether leaves her body, turning her corpse-like.

  “If you say yes to many questions, I’ll have to hurt Astrid far more.”

  “I’m sorry.” She says it quickly. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, y-y-yer-”

  “Are you and Randall hiding things from me?”

  “Yes.” It’s the same robot voice, and it makes Harriet’s heart stop with terror.

  “So you were lying?" Soteris glares at her. Nails drumming on the counter. Before Harriet can resist, his eyes glow again. “Have you and Astrid talked about me behind my back?

  She tries to push it down, tries to fight-

  “Yes.” She hits herself. “No, God, no! Wait!”

  “Have you asked anyone here to help you escape?”

  She tries to cover her mouth, but the spell prevents her. “Yes. NO! STOP IT! STOP IT!”

  “You must really want her to suffer.”

  Harriet’s face is in her hands. Wet with tears, muffling silent cries. Soteris watches her like a hawk, pausing only to take another sip.

  “Admit it,” he hisses. “You want to turn them against me. You want their project-"

  “Of course I do!”

  There’s a flash, a surge. The re-assembled Fireside glows with new light. Soteris barely has time to register it before a wine glass narrowly misses him. Shatters against the wall.

  “Fireside!”

  “HARRIET!” She shouts, storming up to him. “Harriet, Harriet, Harriet! If ya give a bloody damn about me, use my FRICKIN’ NAME!”

  “You’re acting hysterical-”

  “PISS OFF!” She's inches from his face. “YA WANNA KNOW THE TRUTH!? I didn’t have ta convince them! They already hate yer guts! Yer a liar, an’ a creep, an’ a fraud, an’ a bully! Ya think yer any different!? That sellin' flowers makes you better!?”

  There’s a quirk in his nose. “You need to-”

  “I’M GONNA KILL YOU, YA HEAR ME!?” She jabs a finger in his gut. “When my friends get here, when yer ‘allies’ break me out, I don’t CARE how it happens! Ya think yer tough? YA THINK I CAN’T SEE THROUGH IT!? Yer a scared little boy, who's chewed more than he can swallow, an' I'll frickin' prove it! I'll make ya scream! I'll make ya SUFFER! An’ then I’ll go ta that STAIN of an island-”

  His face tightens.

  “- an’ do the same ta yer friends! Yer family! An’ that little grey-skinned freak who turned ya in the first place! Who made ya think, only now, that yer a lil' putrid monst-"

  Her head slams into the wall. Hard. Ears ringing, stars in her eyes, before she feels strong fingers squeeze her neck. Smooth palms pressing, just below her collar.

  “Enough,” he says.

  She spits. “Can’t choke me like yer other-”

  “Be QUIET!”

  She looks at him, then starts to push back. He’s changed. Face taut. Eyes a sheet of gold.

  “I will give you one chance to take that back,” he says through grit teeth. “One chance, because I know you’re half a beast, or I will unleash everything I have against you. So tell me. TELL ME!”

  He squeezes, and lifts her off the floor. The spell keeps holding her back as she tries to claw and flail and kick.

  His fangs are out. “Is this what you really want?”

  “Ya… wanna know…” She coughs, and forces his fingers back. Giving herself the slightest bit of air. “... what I want?”

  He smiles. A vicious, self-sure smile that fades with her words.

  “I wanna watch my friends blow off those doors!” She lifts the collar, showing his mark. “Tear off this rag! An’ make these words DISAPPEAR by destroyin’ YER FACE with six rounds from a Colt Single Action Army point-forty-frickin’-five revolver!”

  “RAGH!”

  For a few seconds, she’s in the air. Floating beneath fluorescent lights. But the landing comes quick, and painfully. The coffee table shatters at the impact, a sea of rolling metal, broken glass. Harriet springs up quickly, ready to pounce, when-

  Patterns in his eyes. “Excite yourself.”

  What?

  “No.”

  It’s a bizarre display. Harriet’s hand shoots down without her control, pressing against her pants. She makes a grunt, half-horror, half a moan, and pales when she looks up. Soteris is unbuttoning his shirt. Her breaths. The windchimes scream.

  “No.” It’s said weakly. Hand still rubbing. “No no no-"

  “Put heat in your face.” Harriet’s cheeks turn red. It makes him smile. “Look at that. It seems there is a way to punish you.

  It makes something inside her lurch. Aether shooting through her veins, a thousand sensations. Goosebumps on her arms.

  “Give in.” He tosses his shirt to the floor. “Admit what you know is true, and this will not come to pass. Do you understand?”

  “I-" Her breath hitches. Her body's recoiling. Reacting. "I-I don’t-”

  “YOU'VE LOST!”

  She cowers at the words.

  "IT'S OVER!" His eyes glow. "Your friends are not coming. No magic will rescue you! I am trying to SAVE US ALL! Take off your clothes!”

  Her hoodie flies off first. Then her t-shirt, the jumper. Revealing a lace-work bra. Thousands of freckles. She makes a strange whimper. “Stop...”

  “Why? I’m a monster, aren’t I!?” He crosses the room, standing over her. “Pant like a dog."

  Harriet feels her tongue roll out. He’s undoing his belt. She can't stop blinking.

  "Say that you want this."

  "I want this."

  "Louder!"

  "I WANT THIS!"

  “One month, and you’re still at it One month, and you’re still failing! When will you see it!? When will you realise there is only one path!? Do you need reminders!?"

  She screams and tries to run. Soteris is quicker. Grabbing her by the chest, throwing her to the couch. Behind him, the Fireside sparks, a gentle hum joining the light.

  He lowers himself, straddling her. Reaching for her.

  “No!” She swipes at him. Tears in her eyes. “NO!”

  “YOU’RE LYING!”

  He holds her wrists down.

  “Lying to me. Lying to yourself!” He pushes down against her struggles. “You know you care. You know it’s important! We are not what you want us to be! ACCEPT IT, YOU COWARD!”

  She’s shaking her head. Eyes closed. Sweat on brow. It’s not his words tearing through her. It’s other voices. Other minds.

  “You think YOU’RE suffering!?”

  “- worse than any Revolt-”

  “- everyone be friends wiff everyone-”

  “Stop fighting,” he says. Behind him, the Fireside thrums. “Stop LOSING!”

  “The Unbound can’t die quiet-”

  “-world not made for us-”

  “I failed them!”

  They’re not coming.

  It hits her like a hammer, and with it, a thousand more. They’re not coming. She can’t leave. The dress. The guns. The lies. Two weeks at most. It's already more.

  “Say it, and you can win!” Soteris hisses. “Say it, and we’re both free!”

  He moves onto her hip. Sensations through her spine. The Fireside shifts colours, whites and blues and greens. Windchimes and white clouds.

  "You want to stop running," he told her.

  The machine is impossibly loud.

  "You want to stop running."

  “YOU WANT IT TO BE TRUE!” Soteris shouts.

  She can't-

  “YOU WANT TO BE-”

  It screams.

  That's the only word she knows to describe it. And it doesn’t describe it at all.

  They howl. Howl from the throat, but it never sounds like their voices. Soteris hits the ground, yelping and flailing, while Harriet grips a skull that seems ready to burst with some force, some presence, some power.

  It moves through her body. The abdomen first; a growl, a squeal, and sudden pulling from her stomach and bowels and bladder. Her spine comes next, with the aches from her heels, the indents on her wrists, a thousand warnings she once ignored easily. She bunkers down, trying to shrink it, localize it, but then her lungs flare, and her panic grows. Grasping for air in hurried breaths. Air she needs inside her. Air she…

  … she…

  Her eyes open, and stay open, and she feels the dust gather on them, that unstoppable urge to blink. Her hand flies to her heart next, its beat so quick, but regular. She takes another breath, calmer, now, but with the knowledge that she can’t stop. That her body will do it without her choosing. She touches her hand. A hand that turns white when she pinches it. A hand that’s warm. The veins on her wrist, a deep blue.

  Blue, with no hint of gold.

  Again, the panic takes her. This is wrong. This is impossible. It breaks every law of science, every lesson she’s ever learned, even the wisdom of God.

  But it's real.

  She stares at it.

  Harriet turns slowly, head tilted towards the machine. Glowing with the colour of her now-dulled eyes. It’s hot, and loud. She can tell even across the room, and gets the sense that the moment it overheats, this little miracle is over. But for the moment, it...

  ...

  She doesn’t want to say what it’s done.

  What if speaking stole its power?

  “H-... h-holy God.” She feels her tongue roll over her teeth. Even the fangs seem gone. “I-...” She twists around her body, feeling the different parts. “I…”

  Then, she sees.

  Soteris sits in a corner, back leaning against the wall. His eyes are on his hands. Hands as vivid as hers, hands he moves slowly to feel each palm and indent left by his fingers. His chest moves, shakily, and she sees the same flash of panic strike him, the same questions of food and water and age and Sunlight tearing through his mind.

  He reaches for his cheek. Pinching the skin before his face seems to melt.

  “... agapi…”

  She barely hears it, the words no more than a whisper. Soteris brings his legs to his chest and whispers to his knees.

  “Echoume perimenei…” Another ragged breath, that stumbles into a sob. “Echoume peri-"

  “Soteris?”

  He looks up, but the more she sees of him, the more the words fail in Harriet’s throat. His skin is fuller. The flesh a brighter tone, the eyes a darkened dull. She sees no contours from his jaw, no hunger on his brow, and his face…

  It’s not the face of a Nocturni.

  It’s the face of a boy.

  A boy just as frightened as the woman who stares back. A boy whose tears are human. A boy that’s awed by her.

  “You...” She has to stop herself, too. Tears are sliding down her face. “… ya... weren’t…?”

  Soteris climbs to his feet suddenly, only stopping to take his shirt. Harriet tries to spring up to meet him, but intense, mortal pain instantly hits her. With shaking breaths she leans on the couch, watching as he marches to the keypad, and throws open the door.

  “Soteris? D-Don’t leave me! W-what are we..."

  He stops. They lock eyes.

  “Wh-...” She tries to swallow her fear. Her confusion. The thousands of emotions that challenge her rage. “... what is this?”

  “This?”

  He looks at his chest and reaches for his heart. Feeling the beat, even as his own hand quivers.

  “This... is what you’re fighting.”

  He closes the door behind her.

  ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  It’s hot, and humid, and shines so brightly upon her blue eyes.

  She struggles to keep her eyes open, lifting a hand to hide the blaze. The sun is low, a beating orange with hints of red, that shines on the dry grasses and the hardened, cracked earth. It was a tough day, and her body aches as proof of it. How long has she been lying here? Right now, she doesn’t know. What matters is the respite the bed of weeds gives. Those moments when the clouds offer cover, or the breeze wafts in.

  She closes her eyes and hears them with the wind. Mills churning, clotheslines rippling. The dogs bark, the roosters crow and all the great crops, still taller than her, sway in their rigid rows. The world around her buzzes, too. Ants in the grass. Dragonflies overhead, and a hawk, further beyond, gliding through the summer-green trees.

  The faintest sound calms her most. Ma’s windchimes on the porch. Bronze and small and rustling.

  The light fades. Her eyes open. Darkness hangs over her, but without a cloud in sight. Her face bends, cross at the figure's shadow, and the summons for chores it carries. She waves them off with a flick of her sun-baked arm.

  “Get away, Billy! Go bother Pa!” She starts to roll over. “I’m tryna-”

  And freezes in place.

  The setting sun hides so many features: the laces over his boots, the buckle on his waist. But still she sees the stains in his leather, the black locks of his hair, the tears in his jeans. His eyes seem so young. So old. So pale and warm as life.

  She leaps to her feet and shouts his name.

  "ROWE!"

  She collides more than she hugs. Arms over his back. Hands pull on his vest. She sputters and squeezes and holds him tight. As tight as she can. As tight as she has to.

  “Yer here," she says. "Yer here. I've missed you, Rowe, I've miss-”

  She stops. Something's wrong.

  She feels his skin. Rough to the touch, but warm against warm.

  “No.” As understanding reaches her, tears roll down her cheeks. “No, no, no!”

  She sobs into his arm, falling on his weight.

  “I’M SORRY!”

  Rowe’s silent. Silent as he has been, for hundreds of years.

  “I’m tryin’.” The words slip through her childish squeaks. “I’m tryin’, I'm tryin'... I’m tryin’ so hard! I-I can’t… but I... I..."

  She sinks into him. Grief and pride and pain, washing like waves on the shore.

  "They're not comin'." It’s barely a whisper. “They're not comin'."

  They say her people are frozen in time. So why could He never freeze her like this?"

  She sobs. Sobs with everything she has, and everything she’s waited for. They sink in the void around her, the Sun and the windchimes and the man she most needs, as two weeks and a thousand years pass by her.

  She knows it’s not real.

  There’s no gun in sight.

  At least, she dreams.

  Dreams only in the moment she knows she's let go.

  ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  you.

  real Harriet, a human Harriet that exists beyond hunger and exhaustion and shame. I see her light. A light that wants to be lit, a light that needs only a source to follow.

  that is my dream. A world where all can speak. A world where none are forgotten. If you don’t want that world, run. Take everything I have and run as far as your legs can carry you. But I see in your eyes that you’re so tired of running. You want to see beyond today.