53

The sun was nearing the end of its arc by the time they reached the entrance to Savage. Roheim, it was, the old witch had said. Terran ground. Anouk had been there a few times before, but the sight of it never failed to unsettle; the wreck of the gate, the pieces that lingered, the dense, impassable blackness beyond— it was like the mountain had frozen midyawn. 

Ahead several paces, Baroona ventured, "What else do you remember from before?"

The question was intended for Ethos, who kept his eyes forward. "I remember plenty," he replied, blandly. "Your amenities were seriously lacking. And your children were cruel."

"I meant about the war— inherited memories and the like."

Ethos was silent. Maybe he was thinking it over. "Small stuff," he said. "Quick glimpses of faces he knew, places he went. I remember working with my hands a lot. Woodwork." 

"You mean you remember him working with his hands a lot."

"Obviously. That's what I said."

"You're talking like you're him again."

On Baroona's other side, Sei muttered, "Give it a rest."

Despite Anouk's best efforts to keep her nose out of his business, it had become quite clear in the weeks since they'd met that Ethos was experiencing some kind of identity crisis. She was shaky on the details, of course, so she couldn't quite say if he was Redbeard's son, Redbeard himself, a tono godling, or a blend of all three, but every now and again he'd frown as if it were puzzling even to him. 

They stopped at the mouth of the Roheim tunnels. While the huntsmen methodically checked their gear, Anouk motioned for Ethos to turn. She tugged on the straps of his bag, tightening one or two that were loose. He seemed used to it, quiet until she turned him back.

His query: "Any advice for what's ahead?"

She checked his front, jostling him. "No," she replied. "Just do as I do."

The others were already drawing weapons, so she went about her own adjustments. Beyond her periphery, Baroona cautioned, "If we get separated, stay put."

She glanced in time to see Ethos raise an eyebrow. "Will you still be able to find me in there?" he asked. "It could get confusing with the nest in the mix."

Sei snorted. "Yeah, we'll find you."

"I'm guessing that was a stupid question."

Baroona was smiling; a rarity. He gave a little one-shouldered shrug when Ethos looked to him for clarification. "Think about it," he said. "Have you ever had trouble pinpointing Alma?"

"Just when she was dead the one time," Ethos replied, sounding deeply annoyed. "She's like flies in my ear. The others are just varying degrees of heat and light."

"Try to get a good lock on her."

"I really don't like to."

"Just for a moment. What does it feel like?"

Ethos reluctantly seemed to cooperate. "Like I've forgotten something." 

"It's because you're tono now. She's felt this way since the day we betrayed her."

Ethos gave a start. The light sullenly returned to his eyes. "She caught me," he said. "I'm reeling it in before she takes it as an invitation."

"The feeling you give off is stronger than that." Baroona quickly put up a hand to stop Ethos from interjecting. "I won't describe it," he said. "But we'll never mistake you for anyone else."

Ethos gave him a hard sort of look, but he didn't argue. "I'll stay put."

"Good. Now get something sharp out. There's activity ahead."

Anouk watched Ethos unsheathe his cutlass. He seemed uneasy, and he jumped when she touched his hand. "Like this," she instructed, sword of her own stuffed under her arm as she gently turned the hilt in his grip. "It'll give you better handling. Thumb here. Expect the edge to slip untrue."

He was staring at the side of her face. "Thank you."

"In and out," she prompted, privately flustered by the weight of his gaze. "Tread lightly. We stick together and we'll be fine."

A smile. "So you do have advice."

"These things are dumb as soup," Sei inserted, assessing the entrance. "We killed a few dozen in the Dire. They charge headfirst like the dirtland boars."

"Soup, enough," Anouk grumbled. "They've easily got the numbers to take us."

Baroona was the first to step forward. His exhale ran in cloudy streams. "Let's make this quick."

So they forged ahead, devoured at once by the yawning abyss. The viridium was both a bane and a blessing; it illumined their way through the merciless gloom, but there was no telling how long it would be before the glow gave away their position.

Ethos glanced back at the entrance. Daylight pooled in his eyes, exposing a quiet ghost of fear.

Baroona happened to notice and said, "Tell us now if the darkness is going to be an issue."

The fear quickly shifted to anger. Those eyes slid away from the light. "It won't."

"Watch your step in the tunnel ahead," Anouk said. "It's strewn with— "

"Bones," Ethos knew, somehow. "Do they eat their own?"

"Could be, aye." Anouk stepped over a bit of rubble; traces left by the terran colony. "I've watched them drag my men away screaming," she added. "Could be it's what's left of them."

Their faint footfall was inexcusably deafening. The inky black world was throwing it back in their faces and laughing. Anouk listened for howlings farther down the passage, telltale snarls and clattering bones, but of every echoed and amplified sound it was the hammering of her pulse that won out. The tunnels of Roheim sloped and snaked, drinking them in like a serpentine throat.

Sei stopped, having taken the lead. He signaled for them to follow suit. Stone still, and with only their breathing to permeate the murky silence, a single jawbone skittered out of the darkness and rattled to a deafening halt. 

And then came the creaking. Anouk knew it well, what happened when the violence stopped, how the foul loathsome things would wander the darkness, jaws unhinged in a blind hunt for food, the creak in their gullet unceasing, relentless. 

Sei carefully scouted ahead, spreading viridian light as he went, and it took only seconds to unveil the accursed howling. Its eyes glinted ratlike some ten paces off, mouth agape like she knew it would be, needled teeth colored deep, rancid yellow.

Anouk was after it without a thought, instincts at a familiar helm. She charged past Sei, who let out a shout— too slow. She ran the howling clear through its chest, flooding the tunnel with sapphire light and the pitiful cockroach sound of its death. She stood there and watched it burn.

The silence returned like a tenacious infection. Thicker. Heavier. Darker. Abhorrent.

"Keep moving." Baroona's voice was low. "More are coming."

The carcass popped; a dying fire. Sei spat on the ground beside it, expression twisted in barefaced revulsion. His only passing remark: "Disgusting."

Ethos brought up the rear. He stopped with Anouk, nose buried in the crook of his elbow. He'd probably never seen one before. But his face was composed when he let his arm fall; he was interested, she realized. He was studying it, seeing it for what it was. He glanced when he felt her eyes on him.

"Some men puke," she said. "You just stare."

"You were staring, too."

"Aye, but you've never seen it before."

He flashed his usual smile. "That's why I was staring."

She glared, mildly, but it didn't deter him. He gave her a long, unreadable look, smile thinning into pleasant neutrality. Viridian light moved over his skin as his huntsmen surveyed the juncture ahead. 

"Stay the path," she said, loudly enough for them to hear. "The turns here are dead."

Baroona paused in surprise. "But ahead is downhill."

"Downhill, aye."

"But the nest is above us."

Feeling intruded upon, Anouk tore her eyes from Ethos. "We may as well turn back, if that's true," she said. "The only passable tunnels descend. All else is caved."

"You're sure?"

She gave it a thought. "The great hall has an open collapse, overhead like," she said. "Could be it leads to a level above."

Sei scoffed, "You never checked it out?"

"We can't fly, you codfish. Rubble spans the chamber."

Baroona stepped in to prevent Sei from snapping back at her. "It can't hurt to look," he interjected, and he quickly traded a glance with Anouk: a wordless request for her to let up. "Which way is it?"

Sourly, she took the lead, scouring the neighboring tunnels. "Birdfolk," she muttered, beneath her breath. "Curse all and hang the rest."

"You didn't need to come in with us, you know," Sei retorted, behind her. "We could've found our way without you."

"I doubt that. Codfish."

"You didn't even know where the nest was."

Ethos said Sei's name, to silence him, but Anouk had already turned on her heel. Baroona met her head on, one hand out to stop her as he addressed the other two. "Continue ahead of us," he said. "Walk slowly and don't split up."

Sei bristled. "I'm not a kid, Baroona."

"Prove it." Baroona patiently stared him down. "I could ask Ethos to get you moving."

To Sei's sliding glare, Ethos shrugged and said, "Boo, I guess."

"Go," Baroona pressed. "We'll just be a minute."

It was with a very dull sense of triumph that Anouk let Ethos steer Sei away. She wondered if she'd wanted a fight, and if so, why. Allowing him to stalk off felt unrewarding. "Aye, what is it?" she asked Baroona, when they were alone. "You're not quite my type, if I'm honest. No offense."

Baroona just looked wearied by her. "Try, for a second, to process how long Sei and I have been alive," he said. "I know you've heard the stories, but just give it serious thought for a second."

She bit her tongue. "Aye, processing. Old as dirt. What of it?"

"Sei was fortunate enough to have spent his minor eternity with the woman he loved. We weren't all so blessed." Baroona's gaze moved with purpose down the darkening tunnel. It read more like he was avoiding her eyes. "Ataia," he said. "My sister. She was kind to me when I didn't deserve it. They were a good match like that."

"Aye, and?"

"And she didn't survive the fall of Wyndemere. It was bad." 

Anouk had nothing to say, really. She knew very well what it meant to lose people, but she'd never been consoled to that end. Battlefrosts weren't supposed to despair. So she'd come to accept the empty spaces, the gaps all about where the living had stood. Baroona clearly hadn't, despite his age.

Perhaps her confusion showed. The tawny huntsman studied her face. "You've been through war," he could tell. "So have we. Men question life when faced with death. I hope you survive long enough to outlive your indifference."

"Everyone dies; it's what we do."

"I just wanted you to be aware of Sei's state of mind."

Put off, Anouk sulked and kicked at the ground. "Fine," she grunted. "I'll be nice."

"Thank you." Baroona leisurely followed after the others. He met her eyes when she fell into step beside him. "He's wrong, by the way," he added. "You've been a great help to me and mine. You're a lot like Syan in that regard."

"I'm no mainstay, birdman. I've got motives."

"I know, but it's still appreciated. Hans himself owes you his life."

She leered a little, remembering the look on his face. "He's always in some sort of a pinch."

Baroona was silent for a short stretch of time. He read her expression, sidelong. "I knew him pretty well in the old days," he said. "I wouldn't make it a habit to trust him."

"He's pledged. A man's word is everything."

"What he says and what he does are two entirely different things."

"Aye, except he's not actually Hans Redbeard."

"That's debatable."

A shout came hurtling down the passage. Anouk was after it in a flash, and Baroona impressed her by keeping up, arms pumping, boots sliding. Their members appeared at the turn ahead, engaged in a grisly struggle of contrasts.

Sei was surrounded, but he expertly dipped and swayed all about to take down the howlings who'd boxed him in. Blue fire buttered the walls around him. Ethos was closer, a silhouette to the bloodletting, and despite his earlier mishandling of the cutlass, his attacks flowed surprisingly well. Anouk lunged at the howling behind him. Blazing viscera spattered the ground.

Ethos was coughing and batting at smoke when she straightened to assess the space. He caught her eye, smiled, and greeted, "Hi, there."

There was soot on his face. "Ho, seabird."

An injured howling suddenly took out his legs, dropping him quickly enough to startle. Forced by proximity to abandon his blade, he seized the repulsive thing by its shoulders and grimaced as it snapped at his face. He shouted for Anouk in the slavering onslaught.

She was already cleaving its throat apart. Ethos heaved the carcass aside and wiped his face with the sleeve of his coat, hiding a scowl of embarrassment.

Anouk grinned down at him. "It's so cute that you cried out for me."

The two huntsmen had cleared out the rest of the stragglers; they were seeing to themselves and speaking quietly, checking for wounds and lost belongings. She opened her mouth to call out to them, but a terrible shake of the ground cut her short. Each of them stilled, eyes meeting eyes.

Again, the ground shook. It was like a great foot coming down in the distance. Bones and pebbles buzzed at their feet. Anouk quickly offered Ethos her hand. "Get up."

He took it without question. "What is it?"

"I don't know. Something big."

"Ahead of us," Baroona knew. "We should hurry."

"It could be coming from the hall," Anouk pointed out. "I say we hold off until it's clear. Call it a tactical retreat if it helps you sleep at night."

Ethos studied her face. "You don't think we can make it?"

"I've been in here a half dozen times, seabird. This is new. I can't say what we'll find."

As if to illustrate her point, the ground shook and rumbled again. 

Sei edged forward. "We should make a break for it, clear the collapse."

Ethos was still staring hard at Anouk. She could tell from a glance that he wanted to risk it. "How far is the breach?" he asked. "I'd rather get ahead of this thing than hide in the dark from it."

"I've said my piece," she replied. "I won't be to blame if it goes south."

A smirk, subtle and sly. " 'Damn all, says I?' "

"Aye, damn all. Follow me."

They pushed recklessly onward, stirring blue embers afloat in the darkness. The huntsmen would speak up now and again to alert her of howling activity, at which point she'd either find a new route or lead them directly through the obstruction. All the while, the rumbling persisted. 

The more they struggled against the pests, the more Ethos fell into proper form. It was familiar, the way he moved— some southern art, like he'd been trained. He insisted he hadn't. Another incongruous quality of his. Ambiguity incarnate. But he'd clearly meant what he'd said on the Echo; he wasn't weak, and she didn't need to protect him. She thought he must have been too closely looked after, to the point that he'd grown repulsed by the notion. Peter, perhaps, or a mother or father.

Louder, louder. The rumbling was soon upon them. It was just as they entered the great hall itself that the sound became too much to tolerate. She was scanning the chamber, which was vast and in ruins, when Baroona's voice cut through the noise.

"Sheathe the blades!" he ordered, all but inaudible. "Quickly!"

She pointed to the collapsed ceiling, showed them the way while she still had time. "There!"

The huntsmen sheathed their weapons at once, extinguishing the viridian light. And just as Ethos did the same, the source of the rumbling arrived by way of a passage across the chamber. Wall shattered and spilled over ground. Darkness fell.

Somebody grabbed her. Ethos. He hushed her startled sound of protest and forced her behind the great pile of rubble. "We're out of time," he said. "Don't speak."

The others had gone. It was possible they'd taken wing and leapt ahead to the level above. But the beast was circling the hall one heavy footstep at a time, and the hand on her back was a grim reminder; it was smarter to wait, to be like the darkness.

Anouk hurried to sheathe her sword, but there wasn't time; Ethos pulled her low to the ground, where the rubble was piled against the wall. "Lie here," he whispered. "Quickly."

She complied, ducking into the narrow enclosure. The viridian flat beneath her was warm, its glow mostly concealed by her body. Fear congealed in the pit of her belly. 

But then Ethos joined her, borrowed boots softly pushing at bones. He'd found a corpse and was dragging it after him, wedging it into the gap to hide them. He balanced over her, propped on an elbow, and anxiously peered out into the hall. He said, "Here it comes."

Anouk didn't respond. Neck craned, she cast an eye over what little she could see of the inverted chamber, and while the gentle gleam of the sword was blinding, her field of vision was clear enough to get a glimpse of the beast for herself.

It didn't creak —a minor blessing— but it shared the same rancid mouth of the howlings, unhinged and needled and stringed with saliva. Its size was immeasurable. With no discernible eyes or nose, its ellipsoid head was an instrument of consumption, boiled down to the hunt and the hunger.

Ethos ducked when it looked as if it might turn their way. He swallowed hard. A bead of sweat slid from the side of his face and clung to the seemly knot of his throat. Focusing on it calmed her— so well, in fact, that her gaze wandered higher, over his chin and lips. At the last, she paused.

Another footstep. Beastly. Thunderous. The very earth shook beneath them. But it wasn't fear that quickened her pulse; it was the realization that she'd been caught, that Ethos had unexpectedly glanced and seen her staring up at him. He seemed surprised, the dumb seacalf.

A sound from the creature invited his eyes. The bead of sweat fell as his face turned away. And as he watched the darkness from their position, Baroona's quiet warning fell flat. Anouk freed her hand and played with the cartilage of his exposed ear. When he shrugged away, she did it again.

He glared down at her. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Stop touching my ear." 

So she touched his face, and it put him still. She ran her fingers along his jaw, around his ear, and up into his hair. She wanted to smell it, his hair, so she did. 

They were quiet like that for lifetimes. The creature outside was eating something, something that spattered and crunched and popped. She hardly even noticed or cared.

Ethos spoke, voice low. "You smell kind of nice."

She sniggered. "Kind of?"

"Spice. And soot."

"You smell like an herb of some sort."

His head dipped forward, onto her shoulder. "Lie back down."

"Basil, I think. Is it basil?"

"Anouk."

"Saying my name won't get me to do stuff."

"Please."

She sat back, sourly. "You're so reserved."

A reassessment of his preposterous eyes informed her otherwise. There was a dark, dangerous light shining through; something organic, something primitive. It moved in there like a restless animal. He looked away, as if afraid she might recognize what it was. Oddly, he just said, "Sorry."

Anouk studied him, long enough for his gaze to return. She lightly touched his face again, charmed by his strange dejection. "I'm no fool," she said. "I'll eat my gloves if you call this one-sided."

Ethos smirked, a bit wretched. "Just don't take it too seriously."

"Oi, oi, since when do I take anything seriously?"

"You do. When it matters."

He was right. "So why shouldn't I?"

His amusement dimmed. "I'm not a nice person," he said. "I'm not interested in your feelings. It's okay if it's just for fun, but that's all it'll ever be."

"That's no good, seabird. No good. I already know you're secretly sweet. Peter says you're cruel on purpose to push people away when they're close." She bullied down a mutinous smile when his wandering eyes quickly jumped back to hers. "He'd call you on it," she said. "If he were around to not mind his business, that is; be a pest like. Subtlety was never his thing."

"This situation would be exceedingly less appealing to me if he were here."

"Aye, I'll bet," she retorted, fingers creeping back up his arm. "Pretty thing like you."

Ethos shook her off. "Stop calling me that."

The rubble shifted. The ground buzzed. And then, like a flipped switch, their curious corner of safety shattered. Anouk didn't have time to make sense of it. She could only watch in horror as the darkness sucked Ethos in through a ruinous black rain of debris.

There wasn't much she could do but writhe against the weight of it. The blade was useless, trapped beneath her, warm to her back as a fresh pool of blood. She felt something tear through the sleeve of her coat. She vied for the surface, kicking and clawing and spitting vile oaths.

A dusty old carcass moved in her favor. Anouk spilled free, sword somewhere in the chaos behind her. Baroona's face was the first thing she saw; he seized her arm and tried to speak, but a massive tail came soaring at them from the shadows, landing a heavy blow to his gut and robbing the blade from his wielding hand. He went sprawling, too far to be seen.

Anouk was happy enough to salvage his weapon. She boosted it up with her foot and turned— just in time to see the beast coming. The hot metal made jarring, blinding contact with its face. 

It roared at her, eyes ablaze like a torch. Anouk roared back. She jerked the blade free and dove out of its path, tucking and rolling, protecting her head.

Ethos rejoined her as she climbed to her feet. "Are you okay?" he asked, one eye wide, the other lost in a mask of blood. "Anouk?"

He was gripping her hard by her shoulders. Had he been worried? "I'm fine," she replied, and she gave her head a shake for good measure. "Aye. Fit as a foghorn."

His surprised smile was a flash of white in the gloomy darkness. "A foghorn?"

A terrible howl cut their reunion short. Sei had clambered up the creature's snarly spine and driven his borrowed cutlass home, staggering when the blade chipped bone. The hemorrhaging beast collided broadside with the wall, knocking him off.

Heavy saliva slopped over ground. The creature turned, exhaling black smoke. Sei scrambled in reverse. But Ethos caught Anouk's arm when she lurched to protect him, and instantly she realized why; Baroona had returned from the shadows, readied to blow the creature apart.

Golden light. A gasp of sunshine. The lateral attack was strong and true, sending their slavering adversary airborne, shaking the world and all within. It was over in a second.

The stillness that followed was one of true death, but the huntsmen drew on the unmoving beast with extreme vigilance regardless. "It's dead," Sei was the first to say. "You did it, Baroo."

Rejoicing didn't seem appropriate, not with them being in the state that they were. Anouk glanced at Ethos to privately measure the extent of his injuries. It looked like he'd tried unsuccessfully to free his cutlass in the confusion.

His eyes moved to her. "What?"

"Your shoulder," she said, pointing. "How bad is it?"

"I can't say for sure until I get a look at it. How's your arm?"

She hadn't realized she'd taken a hit. Seeing the blood, it hurt tenfold. "Same."

Anouk turned to ask the huntsmen if they were okay, but Sei was suddenly in her face. "Why were you talking?" he snarled, and he seized her. "Why didn't you stay quiet?"

Anouk blinked at him, thrown by the ambush. Thankfully, Baroona was on approach and willing to answer for her. "Calm down," he said. "It's over."

"She could've gotten him killed."

"But she didn't." Baroona gently pried him off of her. "Sei," he warned, voice steady. "You've got to let go. She's hurt."

Sei glanced at her injured forearm. He looked like he wanted to forge on and protest, but he didn't; he just pressed his lips together and shoved her away from him, into Ethos, at whom he thrust a furious finger. "Remember your place," he spat. "This isn't a game."

"You're right," Ethos said. "I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry."

"I am. Do you mind if I see to her wound?"

"I need to find my sword," Anouk muttered. "It's time better spent."

"Sei will get it," Baroona cut in. "Sit down, both of you. Sei— go. Don't argue."

Feeling rather reprimanded, Anouk grudgingly unhitched her bags while Sei skulked off to search the rubble. She paused to watch Ethos remove his coat. "I can take care of myself," she said, noting the slowness with which he moved. "You're worse off, I think. Did it get you?"

He sat, heavily. He was blinking too much. "I'll be alright."

A lie, maybe, but she joined him and dug the dressings out of her bag. Baroona was examining his shoulder when she turned back. "It looked like the others," she said. "The shape of the head."

"Yeah," Ethos agreed, eyes on her hands. "Definitely a cousin."

She slid her injured arm from its sleeve and looked at Baroona. "So?" she asked. "How is he?"

Brow furrowed, he didn't look back at her. "It dragged him out with its teeth," he mused. "There's one lodged in here. It's big."

"A tooth?"

"It snapped off cleanly. I'm reminded of a shark."

Ethos tried to get a look at him, concerned. "Can you remove it?"

"Not like this." Baroona stood. He wiped his hands clean. "I'll get my kit," he said. "You might want to take something for the pain."

But Ethos just quietly watched Anouk while she cleaned and dressed the cut on her arm. They'd been alone for a minute before she glanced. "Just take something," she said. "Your convictions don't matter in here. It'll help."

His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "I have no convictions," he said. "I just don't want to confuse myself. I've come close to calling you Syan several times already today."

She leered at him. "Should I be flattered?"

"Yeah, a little."

"You said you didn't remember her."

"I don't, really. Not normally. It's difficult to describe." He was studying her face, half-squinting in the dimness. After a moment, his gaze fell away and slid to Baroona, who'd crouched by his pack ten paces away. "Him, too," he said. "I remember sometimes. He used to smile."

"Dark days, seabird."

The huntsman in question chose then to return, medical kit in hand. Anouk wondered if he'd heard them at all. "Shirt," he said, to Ethos. "You know the drill."

Ethos complied, albeit wincingly. He was a fine half, for sure, lean where he ought to be lean, built where he ought to be built; the parts that still needed filling out were easy to overlook. She grinned when he caught her looking again. "It's a ruse, innit," she scoffed. "Getting hurt and flashing skin, making the rest of us look bad. Clever little spriggan."

Ethos laughed. The smile finally rose to his eyes. "Guilty," he played along. "I subject myself to excruciating physical pain in an effort to body shame you."

"If you were a booger I'd pick you first."

Baroona took a knee behind Ethos. "I hate to interrupt your disturbing attempts to flirt," he said, head tilted to see the wound. "I need you to be very still for a moment."

Anouk watched on, thoughts black despite the banter. Baroona's hands became red in the darkness, catching viridium light as they moved. Centuries of experience— incomprehensible. Ethos was good about it, of course, eyes closed, but she could tell it was costing him. His knuckles were white. All that soft hair was sticking to his face.

"It's out." Baroona's voice shattered the silence. He leaned forward when Ethos failed to respond, maybe to see if he was okay. "Hans," he said. "It's over. Well done."

Gradually, Ethos let out his breath. "Thanks."

"Open your hand. A souvenir."

The tooth, long and curved. It amounted to a small knife in the back. Ethos passed it off to Anouk when she handed Baroona the roll of dressings. "Here," he said. "You take it."

"Ah, gee, seabird. A putrid fang with your blood all over it. You shouldn't have." 

He managed a cute, exhausted smile. "You didn't seem like the type who'd wear diamonds."

Fresh light spread to their place amid the rubble: Sei, recovered blade in hand. He looked a little calmer than before, but no less dirty and irritated. "Found it," he muttered. "How's it going?"

"Just about done," Baroona replied, tucking the ends of a bandage under. "He had a tooth buried in his shoulder. Not too deep."

Sei eyed the tooth. "Better hope it doesn't get infected."

Ethos chuckled and turned the shirt around in his hands. "Yeah, I'd hate to be laid up for the fight against Alma," he mused. "It'd be the Battle of Folke all over again."

"That was our win, if I recall," Baroona said, standing and stretching while Ethos dressed. "Three long days. We used the last of our good incendiaries on you."

Ethos rolled his head and groaned. "Birdmen, flying about," he griped, and he sent Baroona a narrow glare. "You had an unfair advantage."

"We lost the war, Hans."

"It took me seven hours to get down from that ridge. And it was raining— I could've tripped and cracked my head open. And I had to walk back in my socks. You're a horrible friend."

Baroona helped him up from the ground. "I saved your life."

"Obviously. I just don't like being cold and wet. I have standards."

Anouk traded a glance with Sei. He must have seen a ghost of unease in her expression, because he made a face and gave her the sword. "Here," he said. "Sorry I yelled and stuff."

She forced a smile. "Sorry I almost killed us and stuff."

"We survived. Like Baroo said."

"Aye, so far."