The castle sat high in the mountains, an edifice of twisting red stone and ragged black metal. The spiraling, central tower climbed high, taller than gravity and physics would have allowed in the world on the other side. It offered a commanding view of the valleys and peaks that stretched out below. If only there were something to see.

Téa stood at the window, looking out over the misty, colorless expanse, trying to decide if she was truly awake.

All around, she could feel her people. Her siblings, her children. So many words—human words—and none of them correct. All she had was their words, spoken with a human mouth, shaped with a human tongue. This was why she believed that she was truly, finally awake. In her dreams, she had been free.

She felt the presence, the living heat of the human behind her. At first, she thought it might be the Wolf again, the poor, confused creature with the burning power inside him. He’d brushed against her once, and his power had caught and sunk into her like barbs. It kept drawing him back to her. She could have wriggled free, but so far, it had amused her not to do so.

But no, this was the other human. Her ally, if any of them could ever truly be allied with one like her.

Hajime was the name he claimed. Téa was still annoyed enough with them for her own name, she had almost refused to call him by it. But that urge was petty, and had passed quickly.

He did not kneel or bow. His anger had burned like the finest cordial when she’d first pointed out he didn’t engage in the social rituals beloved by many of his kind. That fury, that resentment, it had been the first time she had believed they might have something to talk about.

At this moment, there was only one thing to talk about. “You failed.”

“Failure is an absolute, and an overstatement of the situation so long as I still stand and you still stand.”

“Alexia lives, which is not what you promised me.”

“A setback, nothing more.”

“Your allies are dead, your resources scattered.”

“Everything can be rebuilt. Better this time. Even more carefully than before.”

He came to join her at the window. A small, grey man. Leeched of color and energy by the world that was Téa’s home. His vigor would return when he went back to the other side. The nima took care of their own.

Even pallid in the energies of this world, a core of heat and life burned within him, and Téa’s braids reached for him without her guidance. They wrapped around him, stroking and searching for a way to take that delicious vitality that blazed inside. Unlike the Wolf, Hajime was unconcerned by this invasion.

He knew what she craved. What had been denied to her and her people. She knew what he was willing to sacrifice to help her get it, and the payment he expected in return.

She could feel the confidence burning within him. “You have a new plan.”

“I do. A way to turn this setback to our advantage. It will require some patience…”

Patience. What did a human know of patience? Téa had been waiting for a thousand years, as the humans measured it. She would wait a thousand more if it meant victory. “Do what you must. I will help you as I can.”

Because she was awake. She was almost certain of it. Every day, she remembered herself more.

Let the human scheme. Téa would watch, would make her own judgements. She would hunt. She would dream, and she would grow stronger.

When the time came, she would make the humans—all the humans—regret ever having named her.