With the rabbit-fox curled up and half asleep in my jacket, I go to Beatrice’s room first—finding her by scent. I don’t want to sleep alone in my own room where I can still smell Leon, now intermingled with Lore’s overpowering aroma. I just want rest and the comfort of familiar arms around me.

But I pause with my fist halfway to the door, thinking better of it. She’s newly changed, and who knows what other drugs her body might concoct in her sleep? Letting my hand drop to my side, I turn and head down the hall. Away from her room, away from mine.

It I’m honest with myself, it’s not Beatrice’s comfort I really want. But I can’t have what I want. Not this time. Not anymore.

I head up to the rooftop, far from the scents of Lore and Leon. Far from the house spirit-shells. And close as I can get to her.

Dropping into one of the weather-proofed chairs out on the far end of the rooftop, I fold my legs and pull my patched-together nighthorn jacket tighter around me. I’m not cold. I almost never get cold anymore. But the feel of the soft leather and the even pressure is comforting. Almost like being held.

Inside my jacket, the rabbit-fox chitters happily in her sleep.

A sliver of lilac has just begun to bleed up over the edge of the sea. I sit in almost total stillness as tangled thoughts resolve themselves into realizations, plans, and resolutions. Because I won’t be able to live with myself if I give up—on E.J. or on Leon. Won’t be able to stand just living life with the knowledge that my mother is hovering somewhere nearby but out of sight, waiting to do more horrible things.

So I will become someone so strong that anyone will laugh at the very idea of E.J. being a danger to me. So controlled in my power that I’ll never have to worry about whether or not she can control hers. And then we can be together, so long as she still wants me.

And I won’t just sit around and wait for her to figure out how to get to my mother and the others. I’ll do whatever I can to help. To make it happen faster. And when Leon’s back—well, even if my plans for E.J. and I work out, we can still be best friends. After all, how hard can it be to find him another Lhura to serve? He’s perfect.

Having decided all this, I’m able to reach a calm enough state to where my eyes close of their own accord and my mind begins to slip into dreaming.

But then the sun’s bright face reaches high enough into the sky to glare directly through my eyelids, and I groan. The rabbit-fox fidgets, poking her head up through my collar and sniffing around. Yawning, I unzip my jacket—freeing her to follow me of her own accord as I head back across the roof.

“I’m going to have to come up with a name for you,” I say as I hold the door open for her to brush past first. “I’m thinking something shamelessly cute. What do you think, Boon?” I call over my shoulder. “What would be a good name?”

I can’t help but smile a bit as the little servitor bobs awkwardly around, surprised at the question. “I don’t—I—“ there’s that buzzing sound he always makes whenever he’s confused, then he evens out again. “Mittens?”

I laugh weakly, scrunching my nose down at the little creature as she wends about my feet, nearly tripping me. Though most of her fur is silvery gray, her legs and the tips of her ears and tail are black.

“Mittens is perfect. Thanks, Boon.”

Not ready to face my room yet, I make for the kitchen. I need blood. And coffee. And maybe some food, too.

No one else is up yet, so I scrounge around the kitchen by myself. Finding a coffee press, I brew myself a cup—then try not to pull a face as I select a blood packet from the freezer. For food, I settle on toast with butter and guava jelly. I also fill a small bowl with water for Mittens and throw together a little pile of things approved by Boon after a quick Aether-search. Nuts, strawberries, some greens, and—surprisingly—a couple of anchovies.

I frown down at her as she scratches impatiently at my boot. “You can still hop off into the woods and feed yourself when you want, you know. Just try not to get half-eaten again yourself, ok?” Her whiskers twitch, and she trill-chirps up at me, ears twisting back and then forward again. “Alright, alright. Let’s go outside and eat.”

Out on the dining deck, I find myself a table far from the one Leon and I sat together at the previous day, putting Mittens’ food and water down on the planks beside it.

The early morning bird and animal calls build into a chaotically joyful song as more and more of them wake up to greet the sun. A few fluffy clouds adorn the sky, but other then that, it’s clear—a perfect shade of cyan.

“Leon,” I whisper. “I wonder if it looks the same on the other side.” My voice grows to a murmur as I speak. “Are you seeing this beautiful day?”

It’s maddening to think that inside this very building resides a spirit that might have the answers. All of them. But not so maddening that I don’t cringe at the very idea of breaking the First Agreement. You don’t ask a spirit about their business, about their realm. Not if you want humanity to continue benefiting from their presence here. There are things that must remain unspoken. There are things that are taboo.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t get answers through the spirit shells, now that my mother’s apparently found a way to hijack them. If I can bring myself to go near them again, she might speak to me, maybe even spill some useful information—as long as no one summons E.J.

After all, she clearly wants me on the other side. There’s no way her motives are good, but that doesn’t mean we can’t find a good way to use whatever information I get from her. A smart way, like E.J. said.

The thought of hearing her voice again fills me with cold, sharp dread.

Just as I force down the last bit of slushy, chunky blood from my packet, I hear and smell the arrival of the kitchen staff. Getting up, I head back in to get more coffee before it can start to get really crowded. I’m in no place to deal with entire groups of people, and the others seem to sense it—leaving me to myself as I fix another cup. Either that, or they’re frightened of me.

All save Chef Edric himself, formerly of the Patchwork Empress. He comes over to offer a quick hug, which I’m all too happy to accept. Wonder if his assistant got his old job on the ship?

Hours later, when Lore finally shows up for breakfast, I head back to my own room in hopes of finally getting some rest. She catches my eye as I pass, and I look away too quickly to be sure—but I could swear she was smirking at me.

When we get back, I find that someone’s filled a deep lacquered tray with sand and stuck it in the corner of my bathroom. Plucking Mittens up, I set her down in front of it. “Your bathroom,” I inform her. She sniffs at it then jumps in. After kicking the sand about for a few seconds, she curls into a ball and promptly falls asleep.

I sigh, but leave her to it. Stripping off my clothes, I crawl into my own bed. Eventually, the coffee wears off, and I fall into a fitful asleep.

~*~

“Wake up, Ashwyn. Orientation starts in thirty minutes.”

“Uuughnooo.” I roll back toward the wall, pulling the blankets up over my head.

“That’s not a word, Ashwyn. Please get up.”

Damnit. It’s hard to disappoint something that’s just so nice all the time.

Rolling out of bed, I drag myself to the bathroom to clean up before getting dressed. Mittens is still sleepy but definitely not ready to be left alone in my room, so I settle her into a crocheted cross-body bag to take with me, an arrangement she seems perfectly happy with.

Once I’m some semblance of ready, Boon leads me back out to the main deck. Like yesterday, Chef’s brought out food and drinks.

It’s not as overwhelming as I’d expected. from the looks of it, everyone spent most of their Umbral energy already in the chaotic adjustment period of their first day. A few Viridians still have wilting vines or branches of fungi clinging to their skin, and some of the Petrans still sport stony plates. But otherwise—aside from our eyes and the vague sense of latent Umbral power—we’re just a group of exhausted people, all too happy to sit quietly and listen.

E.J. waits near the dais with the professors gathered around her, leaning against the wooden rail. Once everyone’s arrived and settled in, she adjusts her tie and steps up. The group goes quiet.

“Good evening, everyone. I hope your first day as an Umbran has been...manageable so far. Before all else, I’d like to propose a drink and a moment of silence to honor those of our own who’ve moved beyond this place.” She raises her glass. “To the honored beyond.”

“To the honored beyond,” we echo, all of us doing our best to muster some verve as we make the toast. E.J. Pours hers into the dirt to the other side of the railing, a tribute to those not here. The rest of us drink. In my case—more coffee.

“Now,” she says, turning back to us. “I want to thank you all again for your bravery. For being here. For being the first class of the University of the Nameless Isle. For setting out on this journey with me—knowing full well the dangers. Knowing we’d have to forge the way ourselves. But I want you to know that I’ll be with you along every step of that path.” She takes a deep breath, eyes flashing briefly in my direction before she goes on.

“I’ve temporarily stepped down from my position at Umbratech in order to oversee the school’s early development. I’ll be serving both as University Director and professor. If any of you ever need me—if you have feedback, ideas or concerns, my door is open to you.” She flashes her teeth in a sudden smile.“Unless there’s purple lightning in the sky, of course.”

I gnaw my lip. Of course.

As expected—and once enough coffee’s made the rounds—orientation eventually evolves into another pseudo-party. Fruit bats swoop overhead, occasionally stopping at one of the pillar-top bat shrines to gnaw on chopped mango. By the end of it, everyone’s clustered in little groups and talking. Getting to know each other. Bonding. I sigh, settling back into my chair with Mittens curled at my side, and take another drink. I know that’s what these first few days are designed for. To give us a chance to settle into ourselves, to acclimate to this place. To each other. But even though Beatrice has tried to call me over to the others more than once, I just can’t bring myself to do it.

I keep my eye on E.J, waiting for the right moment. Then the person she’s talking to finally turns away to chase down the Chef and his tray of sweet meats.

“Hey, E.J?”

She runs a hand through her hair, looking down at me. “Yes?”

I lower my voice to a whisper. “Um, I have a request. I was wondering if I could change rooms.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Only if you can get someone to trade with you. They’re all taken. Why, though? What’s wrong with yours?”

I throw a glance over my shoulder. Lore’s a ways off, but I’m not sure how good her hearing is.

“I just...I—“

“E.J! Ash!” Beatrice calls suddenly from across the deck, dragging Lore and a Shifter whose name I don’t remember along behind her.

“Never mind. Talk to you later.” Squeezing between a pair of Petrans, I make my escape. Mittens runs along ahead of me, venturing dangerously close to the corner near the main entrance. I hurry over to snatch her up, anxiety gripping my insides. “Come on, let’s—“

“Ash? Ashwyn Fleetwood?” I freeze. A deep, masculine-sounding voice issues from around the corner. A voice I’ve never heard before. A beautiful voice. Ice shoots through my veins. But I edge sideways. And then a bit further. Until I can just see around the corner to the front of the Lodge.

There’s no one there. Only the spirit shells.

“Ashwyn. Please, will you speak to me? I can help you save your friend.”