25

A small, windowless place. A draft coming in from beneath a door. Voices, elsewhere, beyond the walls. Someone laughing. Hammering. City sounds. Cold. The stench of decay. 

These were his secondary observations upon waking. The first, of course, being that he was alive, breathing steady, and back to his usual quota of head pain. Ethos remained perfectly still, moving only his eyes. There was firelight streaming in with the chilly draft, enough to coat the darkness with here-and-there traces of color and shape. He was on a bed roll, not far from the door.

The door. Beside it, a corpse had made itself comfortable atop an overturned water bucket; it was loosely hugging an unlit lantern, knees drawn, head propped wallside as if asleep. Ethos recognized it as the corpse he'd met at Calaster's, the one he'd seen through Oubi's eyes.

He lunged at it without quite meaning to. Three good paces were all he needed, but something at his ankle caught. He tripped forward. The floor was predictably ruthless.

He knew it was a chain before he looked. Ethos winced and bent over the cuff, carefully feeling for a release. Finding none, he followed it back to the opposite wall. He took a mild oath.

So he wasn't going anywhere, but he could still dispense with the corpse, reduce the number of people about that Eadric could use against him. Ethos rose from the floor and turned, hand out, to tear it apart like he'd torn up Kyrian. 

The hideous memory scrambled back. Too fresh, too stark, attracting flies. It took all of a second for Ethos to discard the notion of a repeat. The sounds alone would haunt him.

His hand fell as the corpse took a breath, and its eyes were just as Ethos remembered. They shone darkly, like slick, black glass. "Hi," Eadric said, drily. "Sit."

"How much time has passed?"

"Ten days."

The reality was a shock. Ethos thought it over and sat, feeling lightheaded. The chain clanked. He kneaded his brow and asked, "Now what?"

"Now we start over."

A glance, through fingers. "Start over?"

Eadric saw to the lantern, spreading its ochre light throughout. He set it down between them. "It's in my nature to work in the dark," he said. "You're the same, even if you don't see it. We could do a lot of good if we let bygones be."

"You think I like the dark? I don't."

"You're intentionally misunderstanding me," Eadric replied. "The way we live isn't a choice. It's a calling. We raise men like Gladius up so they can be the spark of change. They create the shadows in which we lurk. You've done as much with Peter."

"Peter's ascension would've happened with or without me."

"Perhaps." Eadric studied him. "You've given up," he said. "I can tell."

"Breaking prophecy is impossible," Ethos muttered. "I've tried everything."

"Alma tried to kill you when you were a baby because she feared the death she foresaw at your hands," Eadric reminded him. "I want you to stop sulking and give serious thought to what that means."

Ethos quickly read between lines. He'd already considered the possibility that she'd prophesied her own murder. "We'll kill each other, then," he said. "That's what it means. Congratulations."

"Yes, precisely, and thank you, but you're missing my point again." Eadric gestured at him. "Just look at you," he said. "You aren't governed by human laws of mortality. You're better than that. All it takes is a sacrifice to bring you back from the brink of death."

Ethos stared. "Oh, sure," he replied. "I'll just keep a soul handy."

"You make it sound so uncivilized."

"Pure evil notwithstanding, you have to realize what that does to me. Internally, I mean. Oubi's personality conflicts with mine, makes me different. We're incompatible."

"Then I guess we caught a break with Ludo, him being so much like you."

Ludo. The figment. Ethos knew now that he had been real. "It's different with him than it is with Oubi," he said. "I feel like I really remember when Alma fell to Karna, like I saw for myself how she wounded the sky." Concentrating had opened the floodgates. "Redbeard came to the forest once. It was summer." A smaller man than one might expect, quick to smile his way through a crisis. Ethos quickly glanced up at Eadric. "You were with him," he realized. "Your body was still alive."

Eadric had a faraway look to his eyes, nothing at all to do with Ethos. He was smiling a little, but not in a happy way. "Hans loved this place," he said. "After seeing the clans in person, he took measures to ensure their safety and privacy. He considered them sacred, the fool."

"He was protecting an endangered species."

"He turned the whole forest into conservation land."

"Then why didn't you overturn the ruling later on? We both know what you are."

Eadric smirked at him, crooked, like he'd said something amusing. "The clans weren't sacred, but the grounds surely were," he remarked. "Your tellurian god had claim. Harken. I'd been warned by that time to forgo invasion by other indigenous Karnans back east."

"There were other communities?"

"Yes, of course."

"Anything like the tono?"

"Mountain natives. Quite advanced, actually." Eadric motioned for silence before Ethos could ask anything further. "Enough," he said. "We'll be here for days at this rate. I'll answer whatever questions you like if you just agree to the terms we discussed."

Reminded, Ethos glared and said, "I'm not murdering an entire village."

"Don't be so dramatic. It's not an entire village. It's, like, half of a village. Just the women."

Ethos measured him up. "If I destroy that corpse, you'll die, right?" 

"I'm putting it bluntly to tease you."

"I wish you wouldn't."

"I imagine not. May I level with you?"

Ethos sneered, "I might consider it if you unchain me."

Eadric sat forward. He became intense again. "In all these years, your mother is still the most sinister thing I've come across," he said. "I've been aggressive with you because you're the best shot I'll ever have at destroying her. The only shot. I can't abide any mistakes."

"I'm not going to slaughter the tono for you." The retort earned Ethos a harrowing glower. "No matter how this plays out in the end, it starts with coldblooded murder. I may not be the nicest person in Karna, but I know the difference between right and wrong."

"How do you think you survived the fire?"

"My survival's irrelevant."

"You killed them. The ones you couldn't quite love." Eadric wasn't laughing. He was stating the facts, unflinching. "You picked Shima and Ludo clean, robbed them of their souls and their power. They became the shield you cowered behind."

"Ludo wouldn't have— "

"Ludo was a fighter, even in death," Eadric said. "He's been with you this entire time, waiting on the bridge between worlds. He damn near jumped at the chance to cross over."

Ethos closed his eyes. "Conjecture," he said. "It's conjecture."

"No, it's fact, and facts have no moral judgment. They just are. You can wear yourself down trying to understand why you did what you did, but no amount of agonizing is going to change the past. You survived the fire by sacrificing innocent lives, and now you're going to do it again."

Ethos wanted to disappear. His eyes were still closed. He saw the floor when he opened them. "I'll fight if it comes down to me or Alma, but I won't be party to the tono extermination," he said. "There's no redemption for something like that."

Curiously, the bite had gone from Eadric's voice. "It's men like us who keep the world turning," he said. "Bad men. Men who accomplish a greater good by dragging themselves through all the grime that no one else will stoop to touch. We're as rare as we are indispensable." 

Ethos glanced at him. "Did you kill Una?"

"Una overestimated herself."

"Please explain that."

"She had a knife. She thought she'd survive it."

It sounded like something she'd resort to. "And Peter saw her do it?"

"He saw. He's conflicted about it. He's remembered some things since she died."

Eadric was impossible to read. Ethos tried, regardless. "How much?"

"It's difficult to say. Enough for him to be conflicted."

"Then I can't say I blame him."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I'm attempting to feel you out." Eadric's eyes were constricted, near squinting. "Una was cruel in all the right places," he said. "She made you feel like less of a monster, accepted you as you were. I'm concerned about how you'll react without an immediate danger to sidetrack you."

"Are you not an immediate danger?"

"I'm a different sort of danger. I make you question."

Ethos almost cracked a smile. "Spooky," he said. "It's like you've read my thoughts."

"Close. But I'd have gone mad a long time ago if I had to process a lifetime of extraneous thought with every assimilation." Eadric tapped his forehead. "Knowledge," he explained. "I see what they've seen, hear what they've heard. Places. Secrets. People are into some very strange things, but I don't need to know why."

"It's different for me."

"Of course it is. You and I come from different stock."

He'd said it like a private joke. "Then what kind of stock do you come from?"

"The human kind. Born and raised. Hence my attempt to feel you out."

"If you're human, then how did you get like this?"

Eadric flashed a seedy smile. "I wonder."

Ethos eyed the shadows beneath the door. A familiar presence was pacing out there, turning about on agile heels. Eadric was watching him when he looked back, so Ethos stuck out his manacled ankle, pointed at it, and asked, "Can you please do something about this?"

Narrowly, Eadric gauged him. "You won't run?"

"You'll just bring me back if I do."

"Yes, but I'll still find it extremely annoying."

"Please." Ethos tried to convey his exhaustion. "I'm asking nicely."

"You ask everything nicely." Unenthused, Eadric removed himself from his perch and slid to the cold, unyielding floor. "By the way," he grumbled, rummaging through his pockets for keys. "Consider this your final warning. Don't ever come after me again."

Ethos leered a little, tempted. "Why not?"

"Anything I do to you can be fixed by a pother. Remember that." Eadric checked a key against the light, swapped it out for another, and patiently searched the cuff for a keyway. The revolving metal was rough. "But if you do as I say, you won't get hurt," he went on. "I'll even give you a job when this nasty business is done with. Assuming you're still alive."

Ethos tried to process that. "A job?"

"Sure. Our wheat yields rot from time to time."

"Wheat," he echoed. "You expect me to grow wheat for you."

"This country was built on wheat. Grains represent at least 65% of our agriculture."

"You keep talking like I'll come around, but I won't. You get that, right?" The sudden statement invited Eadric's eyes back. "If you want those women dead, you'll have to use me to do it yourself," Ethos said. "And you'll turn me against you for life if you do. That's the last time I'll say it."

Ever indecipherable, Eadric gave him a very long, very deliberate look. Strangely enough, he went back to his keys. The iron cuff snapped open. "Get up."

Ethos watched him rise. "Did you tell Peter about what I did to Gladius?"

"And spoil a perfectly good opportunity to blackmail you?" 

"Maybe. I can easily picture you bragging about it."

Eadric offered a hand and said, "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Ethos stood without his help, albeit unsteady from days of inaction. "I'd like to see Una."

Eadric's fingers curled. He opened the door and entered the passage beyond. "She's dead, Ethos," he said, turning back. "Come."

"I know she's dead." Ethos had risen too quickly. Struck by vertigo, he employed the doorframe for balance. He shook his head to clear it. "Still," he said. "Please."

Eadric liked that he'd asked for permission. Ethos could see it in his monochrome eyes. And sure enough, with a tolerant air, he gave an eventual nod of approval. "We have time."

Oubi recognized the cell block. It was located in the Keep's lower levels; vacant, it seemed, which was odd. Ethos squinted in the torchlight for traces of the pacing shadow, but there were none. Just a lingering smell of pinewood and grain, like a poulter had recently gone down the passage. 

"I think I need water," Ethos said. "Something doesn't feel right."

Eadric started off toward the exit and said, "This way."

Ethos followed, fighting spins. "And food."

"Ten days is nothing to scoff at."

"I bounced back after fourteen years."

"Yes, but that was an exceedingly nonstandard sleep."

"True." The arm aside, he'd felt rather well. "How has Peter been?"

"Challenging, honestly. He'll be happy to see you."

"King Peter, is it. That's terrifying."

"I'll help him through it."

"Also terrifying."

"Alyce mentioned that you were opposed."

So she'd really found him out in the snow. It seemed so long ago now, and untrue, how the world had gone still all around them. Ethos cleared his throat and asked, "She's around?"

"She's been giving me the silent treatment," Eadric said, sounding bitter about it. "My punishment for getting you hurt. I imagine she's sulking about in the voids."

"It's nice to know she's looking out for me."

Eadric led him out of the block, expression hidden. "You have her to thank for my intrusion into your life," he muttered, footfall loud in the prevalent narrowness. "Karnan beasties, as advertised. You started an upset when you came out of hibernation. You shook the hive."

"Give me a break," Ethos grumbled. "I was hardly even conscious for that."

Eadric turned again. He stopped Ethos short, speaking first with his eyes. "She was frightened," he said. "You frightened her. And I didn't like it one bit. So behave yourself when you meet her or I'll string you up by your thumbs."

"You love her."

"I enjoy her."

"It's just us, Eadric."

He smirked. "You're annoyed."

"Obviously. I'd probably hate you if I could."

"Oh, I like that." Eadric continued on and ducked into a spiral stairwell. "She sees you as a kindred spirit," he backtracked. "Same shady background. But you're an entirely different creature from her and you'll do well to proceed with caution."

"What is she?"

"She's none of your business." Eadric entered the upper level. He held the door open for Ethos, but his black eyes were elsewhere, scanning the grounds. "Keep your head down," he said. "I'll never hear the end of it if word gets around that you're off your leash."

Ethos scowled in passing. "I'm no dog."

"No, you're worse. King killer." Eadric walked abreast with him, hands in his pockets. "Officially, Kyrian's the one who murdered Gladius," he said. "That's how it will be taught to kids. That's what all the books will say. Public record."

Ethos could feel Eadric's eyes, so he glanced.

Sure enough, the hellborn was peering sideways. Overhead lights cast the lower half of his face is shadow. "But you were the one who attacked that night," he said. "People know. Some will draw their own conclusions."

"So?"

"So prepare to be hated."

Ethos looked away. "That won't be an issue."

"I just don't want you to be surprised when somebody out there spits on you."

"Has there been any sign of tono activity?"

"No, but I wouldn't expect there to be," Eadric sneered. "Vultures. If I weren't going to slaughter them all, I'd fly you up there and piss in their cistern." When Ethos met his eyes in surprise, he put up a finger for silence. "Don't defend them, Ethos. They tried to dispose of you."

"They're just afraid. You can't hold that against them."

"You're too temperate. It's dissatisfying."

"Are you angry for me?"

"Obviously. Learn to read a room."

A young woman turned the corner ahead, so Ethos stared at the ground. He waited for the patter of feet to pass before speaking. "I don't expect an explanation or anything, but I read rooms well enough to know that this business with them is personal for you," he said. "And that's fine. But I'd appreciate it if you'd stop pretending like what you're trying to accomplish here is for the sake of some greater good you've invented. It's insulting to me and all parties involved."

Eadric steered him down an adjacent corridor. "My stake in it happens to coincide with the world's best interest this time. Seeing it through will spare this country inconceivable suffering."

"Do you feel responsible because it was your people who started it?"

Eadric suddenly turned out a glare. "Excuse me?"

"Redbeard. It started with him killing Alma." But a shift in Eadric's expression made one thing abundantly clear. Ethos stopped in the passageway, warming the polished floor with his feet. "Why did he kill her in the first place?" he asked. "Did he ever tell you?"

Eadric didn't slow. "Don't fall behind."

"Just tell me the truth."

"The truth is a tool, Ethos."

Sullen, Ethos followed along. "A tool?"

"Yes, like a hammer," Eadric replied. "It builds cities. It shatters skulls. It breaks through walls too tall to climb. You can rule the world with a thing like truth."

"I didn't take you for a poet, Eadric."

Eadric's glare had gone when Ethos fell into step with him. His dry, chipped-paint flesh was the color of dead leaves. "It's like I told you," he said. "Knowledge. Truth. Deception. With exceptional timing and perfect balance, one can be a king of kings, greater than anything under the sun." 

Ethos said, "Sounds like an outstanding way to alienate people."

He'd been teasing, but Eadric just nodded. "It is."

"And you're basically underpinning my distrust for you."

Time slowed as Eadric stopped at another closed door. Before Ethos could figure out why, he felt his phantom limb, Oubi, stir. Oubi remembered who governed this level— the councilman witch, Norita Spellman. They'd wandered into dangerous territory and Ethos hadn't even noticed. The pain in his head did cartwheels and laughed.

"Ethos." Eadric was waiting, holding the door open. "You're looking at me like I've betrayed you somehow," he said. "We're not friends. Don't spoil my opinion of you by carelessly succumbing to your inexcusable need for a father figure."

Ethos bristled. "Don't flatter yourself."

Eadric just smiled. After a deliberate moment of silence, he jerked a thumb at the room and said, "I can go first if you're scared."

"I'm not scared. We were talking."

Mischievously: "It's okay to be scared, Ethos."

Ethos pushed by and grumbled, "Stop quoting my life."

" 'Hey, are there bugs crawling out of my skin?' "

What happened next was very sudden. Not even Ethos knew where it came from. He just shoved Eadric hard against the door, twice for good measure, and glared. Ethos wasn't the sort of person who could easily express how he felt in words, but even if he was, Eadric wasn't the type to be moved. So he just let the glare do the talking. 

Eadric was being tolerant again, searching his eyes, frowning gently. He'd put up his hands to discourage violence. "It's called failure, and it's an important learning experience."

"Don't talk down to me. I know what failure is."

"But not defeat."

"I'm not defeated."

Just with that, Eadric returned to his usual self. The gruesome smile, the open wound. "That's the ticket," he said. "Everyone likes an underdog, Ethos. Even the bad guys." His unblinking eyes jumped imperceptibly. Ethos knew instantly that someone was behind him, but the reality came when Eadric addressed them directly: "Don't interfere."

Oubi's old instincts warned Ethos to be still, and good that they did; a knife bit into the flesh of his neck, just hard enough to nearly shed blood. Norita, he guessed. 

"The troublesome woodling, at it again." Her voice was deep, a filler of spaces. It met his ears like a satisfied growl. "Remove your hands," she said. "Refuse and I'll remove them myself."

Ethos exchanged a glance with Eadric, who was smiling as if it weren't up to him. "As much as I love this new intensity, you really ought to do as she says," he said. "Norita didn't get her reputation by having an underactive imagination. She's quite inspired."

Ethos swore, "This isn't over."

"I should hope not."

The knife applied pressure— a warning. Ethos resentfully mirrored Eadric, hands up to dissuade any bloodletting. "Call off your witch," he conceded. "I'm done."

Norita circled around, smelling faintly of putrefaction; the knife whispered across his throat. "He's suspiciously refreshing," she said to Eadric, red lips shrewdly leering, sly. "May I borrow him?"

She was a shapely creature with indecent eyes. Ethos stepped back from the blade, carefully slow, and reminded himself that, though she was stunning, distractingly so, she was a councilman and worthy of caution. Her nimble fingers turned the knife.

"Stop trying to scare him, Nori." A new voice now— behind him again. It was a tiny white-robed woman, thirty-something and flipping through papers, haloed by a crimson cloud of hair. Sensing eyes on her, she sent Ethos a glare and sneered, "You'd think someone who looks like you would know when not to stare outright."

Oubi remembered fighting Michael over her when they'd first joined the Battalions. She was a renowned pother, the best of the best, a survivor of the howling attack that had cleared out the Rift two decades prior. He wondered if she was marked, and, if she was, if Eadric remembered him through her eyes, red-faced and stammering and asking if she'd like to have dinner.

"Rhysa," he said, embarrassed all over again. "Your hair grew out. It looks nice."

Rhysa frowned at him, and then over at the others. Eadric's starkly derisive laughter was quick to bring Ethos back. "Toubin," said Eadric, and he laughed once more. "It's Toubin. Roll with it."

Privately furious for losing his grip, Ethos extended a proper greeting to Rhysa. "Sorry," he cut in, winning her eyes. "It gets confusing. Not that you don't look nice. I'm Ethos."

Rhysa accepted the gesture. After a brief study of him, a smile warmed her impish face. "Ethos," she said. "I've heard a lot about you."

Ethos was pleased in spite of himself. "Likewise, sort of."

She pulled him closer and wet her thumb to seal the thread of blood at his neck. "They're not all bad," she told him. "But they are bad, more than a little, so take better care of yourself than you used to." She suddenly glowered at Eadric and said, "You haven't given him water."

Eadric ignored her. He casually joined them and indicated the farthermost wall to Ethos. "There's your princess," he said. "She'll be safe here for now."

Ethos had overlooked it; how, he'd never know. A giant azure block of ice, sized to crush a horse or two, was mounted there amid the clutter, discharging swells of an unearthly fog that had pooled and devoured their feet. Una was suspended within, hugging her knees like the seed of a fruit, hair about and frozen in time. Her eyes were closed— a minor comfort. The ice gave her a look of grayish death.

Ethos hadn't expected to miss her so much. Her spark of slyness. The way she'd smile when he caught her staring. Whatever her motives had been at the time, she'd been off and on the sort of person that one might aspire to be with. Clever and beguiling, not quite on his side. She presented no occasion for boredom, a gift he'd never properly treasured.

Someone said his name. Eadric, maybe. But Ethos couldn't tear his eyes from the scene. "I could have been nicer," he admitted. "I should have at least tried."

Eadric harrumphed. "Una didn't want charity," he said. "Or niceness."

"She used to make all these crazy demands. Just like a princess."

Norita appeared on his other side. Her arms were folded. "It's a stable environment," she said. "I can preserve her like this for years with the right materials."

Ethos glanced. "Does the public know?"

"No," Eadric answered for her. "We need to let them grieve over Gladius first. Ellena made the announcement yesterday."

"Oh? How'd it go over?"

"There's a harmless bit of revolt."

"Are the people rejecting Kyrian as the culprit?"

"Kyrian was a Bonesteel sympathizer." Eadric had been staring up at Una. But now his eyes slid to Ethos. His head followed. "He took advantage of the chaos you caused and launched an attack on the royal family. You had the misfortune of catching him in the act of murdering Gladius."

Ethos almost smiled. Wretched. "Is that what the books will say?"

"Tell me in your own words what happened next."

"He tried to silence me."

"And did you defend yourself?"

Defend? Ethos couldn't shake the sight of Kyrian's final, empty stare. Woodsmoke, spilling. Bells, ringing. "You," he'd seethed, his jaw derailed. "You— "

"You can't possibly have expected me to cover it all up for you," Eadric said, smiling himself in a very dark way. "You were this pitiful mutilated black thing with ribs sticking out of your sides. You turned a councilman into a tree. You literally gave me nothing to work with."

Ethos glared at him. "Yeah," he said. "I defended myself."

"Ellena will substitute until this matter with Alma is settled. She's agreed to abdicate peacefully if I muster a worthy candidate." He looked back up at Una. "By spring I'll have made a final decision," he said. "The Battlefrosts will have to be notified one way or another, of course. It should make for an interesting discussion."

Ethos watched him. "Peter or the girl."

A stretch of silence passed. Eadric glanced. "Her name is Anouk," he said. "She has a following in the Battlefrost backlands. Flint. You've heard of her father, Tritan, I'm sure."

"Anouk." Ethos felt a curious weight lift from his shoulders. Not knowing her identity had clearly troubled him more than he'd realized. She'd been like a storm, ready to clear the horizon at once. "She's dangerous," he said. "You've seen it."

"Yes, I know. Don't give her a reason to turn on you."

Ethos felt a tug at his shirt. Rhysa was waiting there with a glass of water. "Drink," she instructed, somehow sounding like he'd troubled her for it. "I'll refill it when you're done."

Her grumpy generosity hadn't changed over the years. He lightly tugged one of her curls, making it bounce. "Does Michael know that I'm dead, yet?"

Rhysa's shock bled into guilt. "No."

"He's not the type to get it."

"No," she confessed. "He's not."

"But you are." Ethos smiled for her. "Right?"

She blushed, furiously. "The gods made you wily, I see."

Ethos downed the water in one go. Eadric stepped in to take the glass when he'd finished. "We're done here, I think," Eadric said, a hand on his back. "Let's move on and prove to Peter that I haven't done something terrible to you."

Still thirsty, Ethos tried for the glass again. "I'm talking to Rhysa."

Eadric's hand moved to the back of his neck; it constricted there, friendly on the surface. "You've confused her enough," Eadric cautioned. "We'll come back when you know who you are."

"I know who I am." But Ethos took Rhysa's wave as a sign, more so with Una's cold coffin behind her, and grudgingly let Eadric guide him out. He didn't put up a fight until they'd reentered the desolate corridor. "Hey," he griped, tripping and wincing. "I can walk on my own."

Eadric didn't even bother looking at him. "Do me a favor and leave Rhysa alone," he said. "She's the best at what she does and her partner is a useful man. I won't let you spoil that."

Ethos ducked away and shook the hair out of his eyes. "I wasn't spoiling anything."

"You were giving her the wrong idea."

"I was giving her a great idea. The way she blushed."

"Don't get cocky, Ethos. There were drugs in the water she gave you." Eadric rolled his eyes when Ethos looked in horror at him. "The good kind, of course," he sighed. "Regardless, it's easier to speak with you when you're sober."

"That's why you stopped me?"

"Obviously. You're weak to intoxicants."

Eadric turned up another stairwell, and they climbed in the Keep's habitual almost-silence. Voices, elsewhere. Laughing. Hammering. City sounds. Restless sounds. Somewhere in the mess of it all, Ethos could hear Peter's voice. It was a harsh reminder that they hadn't exactly parted on good terms. 

"Let's do this tomorrow," Ethos said. "It's too sudden."

"There's no better time than tomorrow."

"So it's okay?"

"No. Tomorrow we're holding council."

"I don't have it in me to watch him be angry right now."

"There's no need to disguise your fear as bland practicality."

"I'm not afraid. It's called reasonable apprehension."

"Reasonable apprehension. I like that."

"It's perfectly reasonable to be apprehensive about him."

Eadric stopped on the step above, blocking the way. He was a little too close. "Peter renegotiated for visitation rights," he explained. "Made a bit of a scene, to be honest."

"Renegotiated, you say. What stupid thing did he agree to?"

"That's between me and Peter. It's comforting to me that he's incapable of insincerity."

Ethos privately shared the sentiment. Not so privately, he said, "Right up until he makes a scene."

"Very true." Eadric abruptly seized his face, arachnic fingers squeezing, bruising. Ethos caught his wrist in a panic to stop him, but the outburst gave way to stillness. Eadric just stared down at him for a frightening moment, grip steady and unrelenting. "Don't spoil this for me, either," he said. "These are steps of advancement we're making. I really will hurt you if you say or do anything to dissuade Peter's interest in succeeding Gladius. Is that understood? Immediately nod if you understand."

Ethos glared. He swallowed his pride and nodded, just once.

"Good." Eadric shoved him away. "Let's continue."