Shining in the sky above the Night Realm was a violet moon, marking the night of the annual harvest festival. Near to the spectral carriage and dressed in their elaborate costumes were Ellie, Irwin, and Lillian, spinning in a circle with their hands clasped as their laughs and hollers carried into the night. They awaited Janus and Vena, who they expected any moment now to come around the sloped path beside the black castle with Bram in his newly crafted wheelchair. Ellie had attempted to join them in their necessary detour, but Janus was most insistent that only one was needed to assist.

No sooner had they arrived, grinning at the sight of the three siblings in the midst of their spinning, when Elise emerged from the front gate and hurried down the stairs to load the wheelchair onto the carriage’s luggage platform. After Vena helped Bram inside, she stood aside and let her three wobbly children stagger in before entering herself.

Janus tugged out a crease in his midnight blue outfit trimmed in silver and turned to Elise.

“Are you certain you won’t join us? The festival only comes once a year.”

Elise shooed the notion. “It’s quite all right, Lord Janus. I have a moment’s peace to sort the kitchen and pantry, what with the goblins scrambling toward Haven as soon as they received this month’s pay.”

He blinked at her. “You should consider taking time to relax once in awhile, Elise.”

“This is how I relax,” she said, chuckling. “But perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to soak my bones, too.”

With a small wave, Elise returned to the castle and Janus closed the carriage door. As soon as he was seated, he wove a quick spell with his hand and directed the spectral coachman toward Haven.

“I can’t wait to see the town,” Irwin said. He was still calming himself after a giggle fit with his sisters.

The corners of Janus’s mouth pulled into a smile. Not only was he gladdened by the sight of Ellie so joyous even after her experience in the asylum, but he loved how the rest of the family stirred in their seats in anticipation of the festival.

“Haven is a fine town, though please excuse any damages you may see. The people have been hard at work with repairs after the chaos of a few months ago.”

“What sort of chaos?” Vena asked.

Janus took a moment to first seek Ellie’s silent counsel, which consisted of little more than a straight face and a faint shake of the head.

“Ah.” He cleared his throat. “There was an incident with a monster charging the city. A phenomenally rare occurrence. But, we defeated it through a major victory.”

A single word escaped Lillian’s mouth before the rest were halted by a pained squeal. She reached for Ellie’s hand on her arm, which her sister lazily withdrew before lifting it to her mouth with a gasp.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, did that hurt?” She shot Lillian a facetious smirk.

“Yes, it did! Oh, that’s gonna bruise…”

Irwin and Janus glanced at one another, their lips pursed shut to suppress chuckles at Ellie pinching Lillian to stop her from blurting out details that’d horrify their parents.

“Ellie, don’t pick on your little sister,” Vena lectured.

There was a thud when she leaned back and crossed her arms. “Well, it might do her a little good now and then, especially considering how much she picks on me.” Ellie poked where she had pinched her sister’s arm, in turn forcing Lillian to make a sound more akin to a quack.

A glow from beyond gradually illumed the carriage windows the nearer they came to Haven. Outside, the town was in a state unlike Ellie had ever imagined; small, orange lights strung to ropes zigzagging across every street; nearly every doorstep decorated with square hay bales, pumpkins and gourds of all sizes and colors, and displays made from fallen leaves and dried corn stalks. To see a grim world now so utterly radiant in the light of the violet moon showed just how the people thrived amid the bleak reality lurking in the dark beyond their sanctuary.

Half way down the main street was a wooden barricade where the carriage came to a stop. The family was swarmed by levity all around them the moment they disembarked from all the people prancing through the streets in their outfits, laughing, cheering, and bellowing songs.

Ellie pushed the wheelchair up onto the cobblestone sidewalk and motioned her father to sit. When he did, Ellie then led the way toward the town center where everyone was congregating around the barrier amplifier—the tall pillar holding aloft a large orb swirling with white light.

Each major bump they rolled over spurred a chuckle from Bram.

“This is kinda fun!”

“You’ve gotta be joking,” Vena said, laughing. “See if you’re saying that when your bum gets sore!”

The governmental district had been transformed into the epicenter of the festivities, with decorations in great abundance between the stalls selling food and drink, crafted goods, and games of chance. On the northeastern end was a wooden stage—draped with black, red, blue, and violet streamers and cloths—crowded by people ranging from humans and elves to banshees and trolls. Some were dressed in costumes far more elegant than the rest, but no matter the attire, all were fabulous Oh wonders to behold.

No sooner had the family arrived when Bedelia herself emerged from a small group with open arms. From head to toe she was dressed in shimmering blue that complimented her dark skin and curly black locks draping down her back. A grin tugged her lips and she called out with a booming voice.

“Look who’s arrived; Lord Janus and the once-ill Ellie, now fully recovered!” She winked. “And even your family has traveled all the way from their home village near Stonesthrow to join us!”

A few members of her group scurried close and chattered about how joyful they were that Lord Janus had returned from his ‘tireless efforts in solitude’ while tending to Ellie’s ‘exposure to the black haze’. They then sighed at the sight of her healthy, smiling face as Ellie looked on in utter disarray. Thankfully Janus and the family caught on to Bedelia’s story—a necessity to keep their true origin a secret. But even so, Ellie didn’t recognize a single person expressing their relief. And yet with every hand gesture, with every stumbled word, they brimmed with sincerity.

“Thank you, everyone,” Janus said with a nervous chuckle and a raise of his hands. “Truly, your elation at our return is deeply appreciated.”

Giving thanks only roused the group further and a portion of them closed in around Ellie. They talked over one another as they asked her about everything from her sickness to her dress. Among them was a tall orc man covered in countless crowns and looped garlands of autumnal flowers around his head and neck. He threw up his hands with a startled laugh and fetched one of each to put on Ellie.

Lillian’s mouth dropped and she hoisted up the hem of her skirt before rushing over. She then began bouncing on her heels beside the orc standing over twice her height.

“Me too, me too!” she cried. “I’m her sister!”

From a safe distance, Janus, Bedelia, and the rest of the family watched in bewilderment at the reception given to Ellie—and now Lillian. Bedelia guffawed, cleared her throat, and turned to Bram and Vena, the latter of whom had taken the wheelchair’s handles in her daughter’s absence.

“And you must be Ellie’s parents,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you; I’m Bedelia, the mayor of Haven and Janus’s older sister.”

“No she isn’t,” he replied plainly.

“Well, I might as well be. And at least say that the mayor part is true!”

Bedelia scoffed when Janus shrugged her off, then shook both Bram’s and Vena’s hands as she received their names. She stepped aside when she felt a small nudge at her arm and turned to see Caitriona and Aston, both of whom smiled at Janus and the others.

“Excellent timing, my love!” Bedelia wrapped her arm around Caitriona and placed her other hand on the bundled up baby in her arms. “This is Caitriona, my wife, and our son, Cullen.” She stepped back and did the same to Aston and the nearly three year old girl he held. “And this is Aston— my dearest friend, confidant, and secretary—and our daughter, Viona.”

“It’s such a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Caitriona said in her soft voice. She adjusted her hold on Cullen and pushed the thick braid of black hair down from her shoulder.

“I’m pleased that you could join us from so far to the south after being parted from your daughter for so long,” Aston added.

Vena blinked, thinking how to respond, and merely gave a brisk nod.

“Well, we’re just glad she was so—so well taken care of up here,” Irwin stuttered, saying as little as possible without stirring any suspicion.

“Yes, and all despite the situation with the Walker!” Bedelia yelled over the thickening crowd. “Oh, you’d not have seen it from all the way down there, beyond all the hills and forests, but it was an absolute behemoth!”

Janus scowled and his eyes grew wide. From behind Vena, Bram, and Irwin, he made a singular cutting motion with his hand across his neck. But Bedelia didn’t notice, whether by accident or by choice.

“Ugh, the way its horrible legs climbed over those mountains.” She pointed behind her to the Maw of the Abyss in the distance. “And that face! It was like something from a nightmare!”

Janus repeated the cut several more times in desperation. Not only did he worry how Vena would fret if she ever found out it was Ellie that dealt with the Walker, but it was difficult to gauge how the excitement—or concern—would affect Bram.

Caitriona glanced between Janus and Bedelia, now dawning on her how he cringed with every swipe. For reasons she didn’t understand, Janus did not want Bedelia to finish the story. And she knew, through experience, that sometimes her wife didn’t catch social cues. Caitriona’s mind raced to find a means to quiet Bedelia when her eyes landed on Cullen, innocently watching the lights swaying above them. Caitriona bit her lip, said a silent apology, and pinched her son’s arm. There was a second where he looked dumbfounded, but then came a shrill wail.

Bedelia spun on her heel and cooed. “Oh, Cait, what happened to our sweet little Cully?”

“Maybe it’s too loud here for him…”

Bedelia scooped up her son and started away with Aston close behind, none of them any the wiser to what had happened. Janus mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Caitriona, whose only response was an uncertain nod and a knitted brow before she chased after her wife and friend.

“Triad’s Mercy, Lillian. You look like our garden!”

Returning from where once stood a robust group that now was just a scattering of people were Ellie and Lillian. Ellie wore a single flower crown and garland, but Lillian was so covered that even her eyes and the wide grin plastered on her face were barely visible.

“Welcome back,” Bram said, chuckling.

“I thought they’d never let me go,” Ellie said, and sighed. “They were talking to me like we were friends, but I didn’t know a single one.”

“What were they talking about?” Irwin asked.

Lillian moved from her brother to her parents while her sister recounted the plethora of topics, giving each of them a flower crown and garland. After making her deliveries, she stood before of Janus and pulled off another.

“You, too!” she insisted.

The pointed tips of his ears flushed and Janus leaned forward at the hip so that the small girl could don him in the garland and crown. It was a small gesture, one that he wondered if he was giving too much thought to, but Janus couldn’t stop his heart from warming at being included.

“—But honestly, it felt… nice, I guess.” Ellie covered her lips twitching into a smile with her hand as the group started down the line of stalls. “People you don’t even know worrying about you so much, that is.”

“Most people aren’t the rich snobs over-populating your class, Ellie,” Lillian muttered.

Ellie stepped behind her sister and placed her hands on her shoulders. “You’re right about that.”

The family took in the festival atmosphere, paying extra attention to the people dancing with one another near and around the barrier amplifier. From the stage came chipper music sung by a showily-dressed satyr and performed by several instrumentalists—the flute and guitar of which were played by none other than Eingree and Skeeni.

After joining in the dancing and swapping pairs between the six of them, the family finally succumbed to the wonderful aromas wafting through the cool, autumn air of roasted vegetables, grilled meats, and baked sweets. They settled down to a wooden table situated near a few stalls, where Janus bid them wait as he fetched their meals. Before he could go too far, Ellie trotted up behind him and tugged his sleeve mere steps before the counter.

“Don’t forget me,” she said in a singsongy voice.

“How could I ever?” Janus grinned and pulled her to his side by the shoulder. “After all, I’ll need help carrying everything back, and—”

He stopped and stared at the man who’d just turned from the counter with two pint flagons in his hands.

“Delman,” Janus said, nearly cheering the name.

“Oh! Janus, Lord Janus, uh—”

“Come now, when have you ever called me ‘Lord’ outside of formal meetings?”

General Delman chuckled and scratched his head of red, wavy hair with the base of a flagon. His brown waistcoat and half-cloak complimented his strong figure and tall stature while creating a perfect contrast to his white, lace-up tunic.

“Well, we haven’t had a moment to talk as friends for awhile,” he said finally.

Janus clasped his hands behind him. “No, we certainly haven’t. We’ll have to change that. After all, I do so miss chatting the night away with you and Lia.”

“Do you?” General Delman asked, his brow raised.

“Well. When the two of you don’t over-indulge like on a certain night.”

A self-conscious smile pulled at the corners of Delman’s mouth. “Has Elise ever forgiven us for what we did to the banister?”

Janus narrowed his eyes. “I haven’t had the courage to ask.”

The two friends shared a hearty laugh and Ellie’s heart filled with joy as she watched them. She’d grown used to the idea of Janus being rather reclusive and only seeming to interact with those in the castle that she forgot he had more friends than just Bedelia in and around Haven.

“You’re Miss Eleanor, yes?” General Delman asked.

She nodded. “Yes, but just ‘Ellie’ is fine.”

“Ellie. Well, I’d shake your hand, but…” He held up the flagons. “And for that matter, I shouldn’t keep—” General Delman bit his lip and glanced far to the left. “—my, ah, date waiting.”

The delight on Janus’s face morphed to surprise and he shook his head. “Oh, no, certainly not. We’ll be in touch to arrange a time for all of us to get together soon. Including Lia and Cait.”

“I look forward to it, Janus. Enjoy the festival.”

General Delman shuffled away to where a woman was sitting, her crimson hair in a thick ponytail and framing her face’s dark complexion as it rested on her shoulder. Once they’d gone from his sight, Janus turned away and scratched his neck.

“So he’s found someone. Good. I am… glad for it.”

“Are you?” Ellie asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You were blushing head to toe when you first saw him. He looked rather dashing, eh?”

“Yes.” Janus covered his mouth and Ellie jabbed his chest with an accusing finger in jest.

“You said that so fast! You had feelings for him, didn’t you?”

A long moment passed while Janus pondered. “No.”

“Liar. I don’t mind, you know?”

“Do you not?”

“Why would I?” Ellie linked her arm with his and approached the stall. “It’d be stupid to think you didn’t have feelings for anyone across four hundred years.”

“But isn’t it more romantic to think that? False or not?” Janus stuttered.

“You’ve gotta stop reading so many romance books…”

The pair put in their order and waited a short while for the stall operator to return from a large tent with two trays. Ellie and Janus then returned to the table with the veritable feast, consisting of roasted chicken, sweet potatoes with butter, and pumpkin soup for dinner, a cinnamon apple torte for desert, and hearty apple cider to drink.

For over an hour they ate and reveled in each other’s company. Janus shared with them old tales of the Night Realm—but nothing too dark as to bring down the joyous mood. When they couldn’t eat another bite, Ellie and Janus dismissed themselves for a short walk and a moment alone together, leaving the family to enjoy the festivities as they pleased.

They made for where the crowd was thinnest at the far end of the town center. No sooner had they broken away from the other festival goers when they spotted Hapi and Nais, leaning against a wall with their hands linked and admiring the violet moon. Ellie and Janus smiled at the sight and decided against approaching them, for the goblins’ privacy and their own.

“Lord Janus and Miss Ellie!” shouted another voice. “Enjoying your evening?”

Hapi sprung to his feet and straightened himself out before reaching to help up Nais, who in his flustered state stumbled over his own two legs. They simpered to the embarrassed Ellie and Janus, then glanced at the nearby barrel where Gerald was plopped on his backside.

“Have you—have you been there this whole time?” Nais asked, his lips trembling.

“Oh yes!” Gerald peeped. “Been enjoying watching everyone all around me and sipping on my drinks.” He gave the tiny pitcher a pat and hoisted it to pour himself another doll-sized cup of ale.

While Gerald was distracted, Janus motioned Hapi and Nais to run away, which they eagerly followed and scurried off elsewhere to be alone together.

“Goodness me, but what a night it’s been.” Gerald hiccuped and swayed his cup to and fro. “Everyone’s so wrapped up in the events that they don’t bother watching everyone else. You’ve no idea what fun and hilarious things I’ve seen tonight. Oh, the gossip I could tell…”

Ellie crossed her arms and tapped her foot when the rat sloshed his drink. “Gerald. Are you sure it’s okay for a rat to indulge like this?”

“Miss Ellie, Miss Ellie, Miss Ellie.” He shook his head. “You forget; I have human blood, too! Born a rat, looks like a rat, lives like a human, talks like a human. Something, something, old curses. Ale is good.”

Ellie and Janus exchanged blank stares as Gerald took another drink. But then, Ellie jerked her head back and looked all around them like a startled cat. The way she crept around in circles threw Janus and Gerald for a loop, and they both yelped when she put her arm around Janus’s shoulder and pulled she and him close to the barrel.

“Oh, not so close, Miss Ellie!”

“I thought of something. And you’re gonna laugh because you’ve probably already thought of it, but—” She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot, then lowered her voice. “Is your human blood the reason why Isadore could track your magic?”

What Ellie thought would rouse boisterous laughs and a slap on the shoulder was instead met with silence. Gerald gazed at her, his eyes blank and sharing none of his inner thoughts. Beside her, Janus merely stood there with his mouth fallen open.

“Really? Neither of you thought of that?” Ellie slapped Janus’s arm to break him from his stunned trance. “You’re four hundred years old, how did you not?”

“It just—I haven’t—it never occurred to me!”

“Oh gods it’s all my fault,” Gerald slurred, slowly sobering from the realization.

“No, Gerald.” Janus took the tiny cup from his paw and set it out of reach of his grasping fingers. “The traces of human blood are so faint that we could never detected it outside of the gate’s radius in early experiments. We also never had reason to go beyond the radius, as we always knew precisely which rat had the spell and which day they were using it.” He held his chin in thought. “But I suppose… if someone were within range at the exact moment you arrived or departed, detection would be possible. Perhaps Isadore recognized its similarity to the banishing spell…”

A small whimper came from Gerald as he turned over to face the wall. His round shape stirred a muffled, throaty cackle from Ellie despite her desire to comfort him.

“Why are you laughing?” Janus asked.

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I can’t help it. He looks like a little Year’s Dawn pudding.”

“No giggling, I’m sad,” Gerald whined.

Janus’s lips curled into a grin and he chuckled the longer he stared at the round, fluffy shape. “As I said before, Gerald; it’s not your fault. Honestly, I’m embarrassed that I’ve never thought of it, myself.”

Ellie dropped her hand from her mouth and tried to sound more earnest. “That’s right, Gerald. So cheer up and turn around or I’ll start drizzling custard on you.”

She poked him in his fluff and Gerald reached a paw back to bat her away.

“I would be so sweet,” he peeped.

After running his paws down his face a few times to drag away his despair, Gerald spun on his hind legs and faced Ellie and Janus.

“No, this is no time for despair! There’s a festival happening and all I’ve been doing is watching people and drinking the night away! I have friends to see! Games to play! Foods to try! So with that, I bid you both a farewell and a good evening!”

There was no time to reply before Gerald kicked off the top of the barrel and scurried into the crowd, where he used people’s arms and backs as vaults from place to place. Ellie and Janus stood dumbfounded, then turned to one another and broke into a laugh.

“Well, that was certainly something,” she said. “It also took every minute we told my family we’d be gone for.”

“Ah.” Janus scratched his brow and frowned. “I suppose we should head back, then. And here I was hoping for a decent moment for just the two of us.”

Ellie linked her arm with Janus’s and turned them back toward the crowd. “We’ll find our moment later, I’m sure. But I gotta know—did Gerald look like a pudding to you, too?”

“Oh, certainly. We’ll have to use him for inspiration when making our next Year’s Dawn desserts.”

The pair navigated the maze of people before finding Ellie’s family precisely where they’d left them, plus one more; a young man, who was speaking with Vena and Bram before finally departing with a nod. Ellie cocked her head and pointed him out to Janus, who immediately recognized the young man and called him over before he could vanish. Seeing his visage clearly as he approached caused Ellie to flinch back and blink, recognizing him as the Crow who’d helped her in Haven during the Walker’s attack.

“I was hoping to see you again,” Janus said to him, and looked over the crowd. “Is your father not with you, too? I’d hoped to give my thanks to both craftsmen in person.”

“Wait,” Ellie interrupted. “You helped make the wheelchair? Now I owe you twice!”

“Ah, you’re the girl I was supposed to help escape Haven.” The man winced as he pushed back his black mop of hair. “Didn’t really accomplish that, now did I?”

“Are you kidding?” Ellie huffed. “Even if we got separated, I wouldn’t have made it without your help.”

“Well, thank you.” The young man extended his hand and shook hers. “I don’t think I ever introduced myself; I’m Adisa, son and apprentice to Haven’s greatest carpenter, Zaire. Well, when I’m not tending to my duties as a fledgling Crow, that is.” He motioned behind him to Ellie’s family. “I spotted our latest work and had to introduce myself to your family—they’re a wonderful bunch.”

“Well, do give your father my regards, and my thanks,” Janus said. “We truly didn’t expect the wheelchair to be completed so soon. Another payment will be sent to your workshop over the coming week.”

Adisa stepped back and raised his hands. “Oh no, I couldn’t ask that of the Lord of our—”

Janus waved the notion away. “I insist. Your work was exceptional and completed with such haste while cutting no corners in craftsmanship. For that, it would only be right to pay an additional sum.”

“I… My father will be most grateful to hear that. Thank you, Lord Janus.” Adisa bowed his head. "Oh, but I've lost track of time! I shouldn’t keep him waiting much longer."

With a partial wave he returned to the crowd, leaving Ellie and Janus to rejoin her family at the table. No sooner had they sat down when a voice called out asking people to clear the area near the pillar for the performers. People dressed in spectacular outfits emerged from beside the stage and began a performance of fire and ice magic. They swirled them in elaborate twin spirals stretching high and weaving through the air like ribbons before vanishing with a bright, quiet pop. The magicians then began spinning their spells in endless abstract shapes and beautiful, elaborate patterns.

Ellie rested her head against Janus’s shoulder as the group watched the gorgeous display with silent awe. He leaned his head against hers in return and shared with her that the display was a way to give thanks to the Triad for the bounty of the prior seasons in preparation for winter. She hummed and pondered how even in the Night Realm there were such fantastic celebrations tying back to the Triad.

Though Ellie’s heart once ached that only she and her siblings could enjoy the Joining celebration, now it swelled with joy for not only experiencing such a festival with her parents, but also Janus. Having the six of them together felt like a dream. Even with her future in the Prime Realm now impossible, Ellie wanted nothing more than for this perfect moment never to end.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

Saint Soleil sat upright and held her breath. There was a presence near her, and she diverted her entire attention away from the ancient stone orb to read the helix of colors that’d appeared in the main room of her home. When she recognized it, Saint Soleil breathed a sigh and positioned her hands back over her subject.

“Am I exempt from a customary knock at the door when I have a guest?” she asked. “Not that I even heard it open.”

Beside the fireplace—the only light cutting through the gloom aside from a few small marbles embedded in the furnishings—stood Elise, her hands linked behind her back as she studied the sword on the mantle.

“That’s further proof that you’re far too invested in whatever it is you’re doing.” She turned and looked to Saint Soleil’s back. “I thought you might like some company.”

“Oh, yes,” she replied, chuckling. “But surely you came here for more than just that.”

“Well…” Elise tapped a marble devoid of light. “For one, it seems you haven’t been replacing your solar sensors with charged ones. I imagine you’ve accumulated a few bruises from bumping into things.”

“And you want to replace them for me?”

“Well, why not? I’m here, aren’t I?” Elise stood behind the sofa and ran her fingers along its backing. A few particles of dust stuck to her bones, which she rubbed away before dropping her arms to her sides. “I’m also worried about you.”

Saint Soleil set her hands on the desk and stared at the shelf across from her, then scratched beneath the veil over her eyes and smiled surreptitiously.

“Whatever is there to be worried about?”

“Don’t.” Elise’s warm voice was now like ice in the dead of winter. “Never, in all these long years we’ve known each other, have I ever seen you lose your composure like that.”

“You don’t need to worry about—”

“Yes, I do,” she snapped. Elise paced up to Saint Soleil and gazed down at her. “If not for your sake, Soleil, then for the sake of everyone in this cursed realm.” With an aggressive thrust, she jabbed at the orb nestled in the pedestal. “Speaking of which; I still don’t understand why you didn’t simply let me handle the Walker. We’d have only lost the watchtower, if you had.”

A raspy breath trembled from deep within Saint Soleil’s chest. “I needed you close, Elise. In case it came down to just us. Besides, can you imagine how the people would’ve reacted?”

Elise’s shoulders sank and she turned to the floor, knowing full well the truth in Saint Soleil’s words. Reluctantly she nodded and looked back at the orb.

“Have you discovered anything from the Walker’s core?”

“Not nearly as much as I’d hoped.” Saint Soleil leaned back in her chair and dragged her hands over her face, pulling the sash down to her neck. “The way it’s constructed is far beyond my scope of knowledge, so I’ve plenty more hours of research and banging my head on the wall. But I have come up with a few theories.”

“Theories are all well and good, but have you discovered any truths?”

She raised a single finger. “One; Ellie’s arrival was absolutely what stirred the Walker from its slumber. But, it’s also not the only reason it was drawn to the Sanctified Lands. This whole place is brimming in light that shouldn’t be. If it hadn’t woken now, the Walker still would have stirred at some point likely in the near future.”

“What an enigma, this Walker.” Elise drummed her fingers on her jaw. “Not to mention those vile cocoon abominations. There’s far more to this than just some being born of the dark haze.”

“And that leads into one of my theories.” Saint Soleil sat up and turned bodily to Elise. “A core like this isn’t organic—it’s man-made. Be it by hand or by magic though, I still haven’t determined. But I highly doubt the Walker was a manifestation of Blackest Pitch. I think it was… manufactured by someone.”

Elise held a closed fist beside her face and watched Saint Soleil, and after a moment, she swiveled to one side and started toward the stove.

“Well, I best put the tea on. We’ve quite a long night ahead of us, what with me replacing your sensor marbles and you sharing all your theories.” She reached into the cupboard and retrieved a pair of teacups and saucers, which she set on the counter before fetching the kettle and taking it to the water pump. “After all, you’ve been cooped up alone in here far too often these days. A little all-night chat might do you some good.”

A smile tugged at Saint Soleil’s lips. “Yes.” She wrapped the core back up in its cloth and returned it to the box. “Yes, I quite like that idea.”