Fuck, this hurts. Thegn clenches his teeth. His bony fingers ball into fists. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s done this before. There’s no getting used to it. The pain is nearly indescribable. It’s not just the gaping wound torn across his back. It isn’t even the thousands of black birds bursting out from that laceration. That’s not exactly a picnic, but the pain is more than that. More existential.

Imagine being a balloon constantly getting inflated. There’s a million holes punched into the surface. The tears threaten the integrity of the surface, so they must be patched. Continuously patched. But there’s simply no possible way to contain the sheer volume of air that keeps coming. So more holes need to be punched. And then patched. And punched again. All the while, the air keeps coming.

Regardless, it still has to be done. It’s necessary. Issuing death at this scale should never be comfortable, no matter how noble the intentions.

I can sense your distress. Caffiel turns from his post at Thegn’s feet and trains his pink slitted eyes on the old man’s face. You look unwell.

Thegn speaks back through gritted teeth. “You figure that out all by yourself? Real insight you’ve got, rat.”

Don’t get indignant with me, youngster. I only mean to say that it’s been quite some time since you’ve had to exert yourself this much. A skirmish with another horseman—even one who’s not fully awakened. That is no small matter. And then releasing your crows on top of that. Are you sure you haven’t reached your limit?

“I’ll manage.”

See that you do. I have no desire to roam the land like my brothers and sisters. My present circumstances with you are particularly favorable in comparison. Rodents don’t get nearly the same kind of pleasant treatment as other fauna.

Thegn can’t help but let a tight-lipped smile seep through the pain. “What? You don’t think anyone would let you tend a bar?”

The rat turns away in disgust. Don’t speak of my elder brother. Ezekiel is such a disappointment. So much wasted potential.

Thegn tilts his head quizzically. In all the years that they’ve been together, Caffiel rarely ever referenced any of the other sigils. Of course, for the majority of that time Thegn was under the employ of the Karui. Between their monopolization of mental communication and his general hatred of telepathy, it’s not like they had many in-depth discussions. Still, a hundred and fifty-some years is a long time to hold in feelings this strong. Thegn understands this better than most.

Speaking of my sibling … Caffiel’s attention is locked across to another rooftop, the one upon which Durga’s host is standing with that bartender kid and the second sigil. It appears that Ezekiel is concocting a plan with his cohorts. Are you sure you want to proceed?

“The Umbrati have swarmed the township. There’s no telling how many of them, or how many of the people here, have seen Durga in her new form.” Thegn can feel his pulse in his face, a rhythmic agony. “This has to happen. It’s bad enough that the Karui know about her. Think of the mayhem if both sides, as well as all humanity, knows that she lives, let alone any of the other horsemen.”

I believe that the phrase is supposed to be “two birds with one stone,” not “two stones with a few thousand birds.”

“That’s cute, rat.”

Isn’t it? I’m rather proud of myself. Popular idioms are so fleeting and difficult to keep track of. Caffiel returns his attention to Thegn, his rodent face almost sympathetic. Still, your reasoning is sound. Lack of choice is so very distasteful. However, you may want to proceed at a faster rate. It seems that they’ve started to muster their resolve. It would be quite nice if I were able to dip into my brother’s mind and get a sense of their strategy. Alas, I can’t.

“Doesn’t matter what they try. It’s too late.”

The piercing pain eases a little as the last of his crows, his surrogates, exits his back. Thegn feels his back slowly attempt to heal and reassemble itself. He lifts Caffiel and places the rat on his shoulder perch where he belongs. Then, stiff and tender, he lifts himself to his full height.

I still dislike traveling the Void with you. The dead can be so …

“Sad?”

Clingy.

Thegn shakes his head. “You’ll just have to exercise tolerance. They’re about to get some new neighbors.”

He reaches behind his back to let the blood there collect in his hand and reform as his scythe.

Going straight for her?

“No.” Thegn rolls his shoulders. “First, we clear the field.”

And with that, he and Caffiel disappear from view.