Quilla placed the ulu down and breathed heavily. It was bitterly cold out, but she was sweating profusely, and she needed a break. There was only so much skinning she could handle at a time as she wasn’t used to so much physical labour.

The people here were friendly and kind, but they required payment for their kindness. It made sense. She, Annai, and Vern were eating these people’s food, sharing their homes, even wearing their clothes. It was only fair to pay for their keep. But it was tiring work—mostly skinning animals and helping to prepare food. Early on, Quilla had tried to help with clothing making and repair, as she’d assumed she’d be best at that. However, she was terrible. She simply had no idea how to deal with the animal skins the In’ukt people used for clothing. After a couple days of that, they’d asked her to change to something simpler. So she’d ended up skinning seals. Simpler, she supposed, yes. But also exhausting and messy.

At least the clothes were warm—far warmer than the clothes they’d been wearing when they arrived. The In’ukt had happily given her a caribou-skin parka, seal-skin boots, and mittens. She could actually wander around outside, even at night, and barely feel the cold.

Ookpik, one of the older, more senior women in the village, and in whose house Quilla, Vern, and Annai were staying, looked up from her own work chopping meat for food. “Finished?”

“Just taking a break. It’s tiring.”

Ookpik chuckled. “Everything is tiring for you. You’ve led such a pampered life.”

Quilla rolled her eyes. She wanted to say, no, she hadn’t. She’d had all kinds of struggles and difficulties in her life; she’d just led a different kind of life. But in some ways, Ookpik was right. After meeting Garet, she had led something of a pampered life. Plus, when Ookpik said “you”, she was referring to Annai as well. Even when Annai and Vern weren’t around, Ookpik always talked about the three of them as if they were one person. And Annai definitely had led a pampered life.

Surprisingly, Annai had acclimated to this new life relatively well. She had done very little of her usual complaining, and what little she did had dried up after the first couple days. Annai had actually handled clothes-making far better than Quilla, and now spent her days doing that and gossiping with other young women in the village.

Quilla sighed. Why was she always the one who had a hard time fitting in anywhere?

“What’s got you bothered now?” Ookpik said.

“Oh, sorry,” Quilla said. “Just lost in thought. I’m going to go for a walk.”

Ookpik shrugged. “Suit yourself, though don’t be too long. Make sure to close the door behind you.”

Quilla nodded and headed out of the barn. As asked, she made certain to close the door. Ookpik hadn’t said that because she actually believed Quilla would leave the door open in this cold. It was just that the door’s latch didn’t always work perfectly, and it was easy to think it was closed when it wasn’t. Quilla made sure it was really closed before heading out in the dark of the evening.

The wind was bitterly cold, but as soon as she did her parka up and put on her mittens, she barely felt it, except by her eyes, which were the only exposed parts of her. It was otherwise a beautiful night. The sky was clear and the stars shone brightly. The moon hadn’t risen yet, making even more stars visible than there would otherwise be.

She followed the path northwest of the village. She shouldn’t go far, but a little ways would be okay.

The first few days here, she’d lived in terror that they would be found and handed over to the Volgs again. But as the days went by, and they remained undiscovered, she had started to relax. Maybe it was that terror that had made her so bad at making clothing. It was a comforting thought, but alas, it wasn’t true.

Relaxing had made her more resistant to getting the tattoo, though. Vern had remained true to her word and had not pushed Quilla about getting it, which Quilla was glad of. She would have to get it eventually, but if she could put if off a little longer, she could pretend she was free of all her troubles. Even if it was only a few more days, she would take it.

She walked for maybe a mile or so before turning around and heading back. A part of her wondered what would happen if she just kept going. Maybe that way, she could truly escape all her problems once and for all. There would be other villages eventually. She could get their help in hiding from Vern or any Darkers who came looking for her.

But eventually, Volgs would come looking for her. She didn’t want to put other people in danger that way. It was bad enough she was doing that where they were right now.

Plus, she couldn’t leave Annai. That would be cruel.

So she headed back to the village.

As she neared the edge of the village, there was a figure standing in the road up ahead. Even bundled up in a parka, it was still possible to recognise Vern’s figure. She was taller than almost everyone in the village. There were only two people taller than Vern—Annai and one of the village men—and both of those were wider and stockier than Vern.

“You really shouldn’t wander off on your own,” Vern said, falling in beside her as she walked.

“I didn’t go far.”

“It’s still dangerous. Don’t get too comfortable just because we haven’t been caught yet. They’re still looking for us.”

“I know. I just needed some space, okay?”

“I get it,” Vern said. “I need space sometimes too.”

“You get to go out hunting every day. Isn’t that enough space?”

Vern laughed. “Only sometimes. But I worry, all right? If we were bonded, I’d sense when you were in trouble, but as it is, I have no idea if you’re okay if I can’t see you.”

Quilla glared at her, though she couldn’t be sure Vern noticed. The thick hoods of the parkas gave a limited field of vision.

Whether she noticed or not, Vern said, “Sorry, shouldn’t have mentioned that.”

“It’s all right,” Quilla said with a sigh. “Look, I know I’ve been putting it off. How about we talk about it later?”

“Really? How about we get a bite to eat and talk about it now?”

“I still have work to finish.”

Vern moved to block her as Quilla started up the path to Ookpik’s barn. “Actually, you don’t. I already talked to Ookpik when I was looking for you. I got her to let you off early tonight.”

Quilla stopped. Well, she’d walked right into that. They needed to talk about it anyway, so she nodded and turned instead towards the house.

Ookpik’s house was not large, with only a few rooms. Quilla, Vern, and Annai were using the main room as their living quarters. But it meant they didn’t really have any privacy. Ookpik frequently passed through it and still used it as a place to sit, relax, and even nap.

By the time Quilla and Vern had gotten their parkas and boots off, and gotten a bit of food from the kitchen, Ookpik was already lounging in one of the only two chairs in the living area. That was going to make talking about the tattoo difficult—they couldn’t actually give away that Vern was a Darker and Quilla was thinking about getting a Darker tattoo. That would not be easy to explain in a way that didn’t get them driven out of the village or worse.

“We could always go back outside,” Vern said quietly.

Quilla shook her head. They had just removed all their heavy clothing. She didn’t want to put all that back on. She wanted to enjoy the warmth from the fire instead.

“Yeah, she’ll doze off soon enough, I suppose,” Vern said.

Quilla took the remaining chair, but pulled it closer to the fire. Vern sat on the floor. As they ate—a local food called muktuk made from whale blubber—Quilla said, “How was hunting today?”

Vern shrugged. “Eh, it was fine.”

“That’s it? Fine?” It was Vern’s usual answer, but Quilla liked to probe for a bit more.

“I could go through the finer details if you really want,” Vern said, “but do you really want explicit descriptions of how we kill animals?”

“I suppose not.”

“There you go. It was fine.”

“You don’t like talking much, do you?” Quilla said.

“I love talking, as long as it’s about the right things.”

“I mean about yourself.”

Vern barked a laugh. “If you want my life story, there’s not much to tell.”

“Then tell me what there is. You know mine.”

Vern rolled her eyes and stuffed her face, spending the next few moments chewing.

“If you don’t want to—”

Vern held up a finger and made a sort of “nn nn” noise through her full mouth. She held her finger up for several seconds while she finished chewing. “I’ll answer. I just needed a moment to finish chewing.”

“I’m pretty sure you started chewing to delay answering.”

“Nonsense. Now let’s see. My life story. I have a mother, father, older sister. Haven’t seen any of them in a long time. My father was a very demanding individual. My sister failed to live up to his expectations, so it fell to me. I hope he knows I’m doing the best I can, and I’m trying to fix things.”

“What things?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you’re trying to fix things. What are you trying to fix?”

Vern shrugged. “Just things.” She stuffed more muktuk in her mouth.

“So where are they? Your family, I mean.”

Vern used chewing to delay her response again. “Far from here. Really far.”

“All right, fine,” Quilla said. “I’ll stop pushing.”

“There’s really not much to tell.”

“Nonsense,” Ookpik said, looking up from where she’d been dozing. “You’re avoiding her questions. Do so if you must, but be honest about it.”

Vern shot Ookpik a glance. “Fine. There are some things I don’t like talking about, but I’ll say this. I have no idea where my sister is. She took off years ago. Broke our mother’s heart, destroyed our father’s career, and ruined all our lives. That’s what I’m trying to fix. That’s all you get.”

It was honestly more than Quilla had expected.

They ate in silence for a while, until a blast of cold air accompanied the door opening, and Annai entered. She quickly pushed the door closed to keep as much heat in, and then began removing her parka. “What a day! Imiq and Koko were a little hungover. They’d had a little celebration—”

“Koko drinks too much,” Ookpik interrupted. “And she’s a bad influence on Imiq.”

“But Imiq’s sister is pregnant with her first child,” Annai said.

“A reason for Imiq’s sister to be happy and for Imiq to make some baby clothes.”

“But she wanted to celebrate.”

“No, she didn’t. Koko wanted to celebrate and she used Imiq’s sister as an excuse to include Imiq in it.”

Annai sighed and hung up her parka. “Well, Imiq was a little hungover and not used to it, so Koko and I—”

“You were supposed to be working, not gossiping and playing games.”

Annai sat on the floor near the fire. “I didn’t say we stopped working. We… Oh never mind.”

Ookpik stood up slowly. “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just being crotchety. I haven’t completely forgotten the joys of youth. Tell your friends here all about it. I’m going to bed.” Before she closed the door to her room a short while later, Ookpik called back, “I expect better work from all of you tomorrow!”

“Goodnight!” Quilla called back.

“Oh sure,” Vern said. “You two slack off, not me, yet I’m still included in the better work.” She laughed. “Fucking Zunsen.”

Annai gasped. “You better hope she doesn’t hear you say that.”

Vern laughed again. “Notice I waited until she was out of earshot. I’m not eating more soap.”

All her life, Quilla had heard the people of Arnorinn Island and the far north of Arnor referred to as “Zunsen”. All three of them had freely used the term when they first arrived in the village. However, similar to Eloorin, the term Zunsen actually referred to many separate ethnic groups. However, unlike Eloorin, where one of those ethnic groups actually referred to themselves by that term and the others had grudgingly accepted it, Zunsen was a word entirely of Folith creation, apparently coming from the old Folithan language. In’ukt was what the natives of this region of Arnorinn called themselves, and there were apparently numerous other groups, none of which liked the term Zunsen.

“I don’t know,” Annai said with a laugh. “I think it might be quite entertaining.”

Vern glared at her and Annai abruptly stopped laughing.

On their second day here, Ookpik had made Vern eat soap to “wash out her mouth” as she was the slowest to stop using the term. Quilla had to admit it was incredibly amusing to see elderly Ookpik get the better of macho Vern, though she would never admit that to Vern now.

Vern glanced towards Ookpik’s door. “I think it’s safe to chat now, as long as we keep it down.”

“Chat about what?” Annai asked.

Vern motioned to Quilla.

“The tattoo,” Quilla said.

Annai shook her head. “Oh gods, I thought you’d come to your senses and decided not to get it.”

“No, I’ve just been delaying,” Quilla said.

“I still think it’s a bad idea,” Annai said.

“And can you provide me with a better option?” Quilla said. “Because if you can, I’ll take it. But otherwise, I don’t think I have much choice.”

Vern got up and went over to the chair Ookpik had vacated, pulling it closer to Quilla. “So you’ll do it?”

“I still don’t understand why you’re so eager to do it to her,” Annai said.

“I’ve been through that,” Vern said. “She’s the Catalyst. It’s the prestige. Yeah, it’s for purely selfish reasons. I don’t deny that.”

Annai looked to Quilla. “This bonding thing, Quilla, it’s…” She crossed her arms with a sigh. “I don’t trust it.”

Quilla looked to Vern, who was leaning over the arm of her chair and looking eagerly at her. She wasn’t sure she trusted this bonding thing either, and she probably shouldn’t trust Vern—Vern was a Darker, after all—but despite her better judgement, she did trust her.

Vern leaned a little closer. “Well?” There was just something in those blue eyes—like a small animal looking hopefully for a handout.

“Fine,” Quilla said. “What will this entail?” She would just have to keep reminding herself that having the tattoo didn’t make her a Darker. It was just a tattoo after all. It didn’t mean anything if she didn’t want it to.

“A private location and a couple of hours,” Vern said.

“A couple of hours?”

Vern nodded. “It’s small, but fairly detailed. A couple hours should cover it. We can do it in the barn during the night.”

“They have a lot of tattoos here,” Annai said. “Ookpik’s really good at it, so Koko says. They might not find it weird that you’re giving Quilla a tattoo.”

“Yeah, but they might get curious about the design. It’s best if we avoid that.”

“Fair enough,” Annai said.

Vern turned back to Quilla. “Where do you want it?”

Quilla sighed. Part of her still wanted to say she didn’t want it anywhere. “I was thinking the underside of my upper arm. That keeps it hidden under sleeves most of the time, but it’s easily revealed if I have to. I guess it doesn’t matter which arm.”

“It should be your left,” Vern said.

Quilla shrugged. “If you say so.”

“You’re right handed and your arm’s going to be in a bit of pain for a few days. You’ll be able to hide it better if it’s not your dominant arm.”

“And the bonding?”

“We’ll need to wait a few days while your arm heals a little. So, tonight?”

Quilla shook her head. She was going to commit to it, but she needed a least a little more time. “Tomorrow night. I’m too tired tonight.”

“You’re gonna be tired tomorrow night too.”

“Yeah, but I’ll have had more time to prepare for it.”

Vern leaned back in her chair. “All right. At least you’re going through with it. I can’t really complain about that.” She slapped her thighs and stood up. “In that case, I’m going to sleep.” She headed across the room, retrieved a sleeping blanket and curled up on the floor.

Annai sat in the chair and pulled it even closer to Quilla, leaning in to speak quietly. “Are you sure about this?”

Yes? No? All Quilla could do was give her a non-committal shrug.

* * * * *

Quilla took a cloth and struggled to wipe the guck from her ulu. It came off, but not as quickly as she wanted it to, so she slammed the ulu down on the table.

“Want to talk about it?” Ookpik said.

Quilla glanced at her. The old woman wasn’t even looking at her, just continuing food preparations.

“Sorry,” Quilla said. “It...it won’t happen again.”

“Oh, it probably will. Maybe not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. But it will happen again. Something’s bothering you, and it’s distracted you all day. So that’s why I ask, do you want to talk about it?”

Ookpik was right. She had been distracted all day. She couldn’t keep her mind off the tattoo. Deciding to wait an extra day to prepare herself had been a stupid idea. She should have gone ahead with it last night and gotten it over with. Now she was just full of worry. It was kind of Ookpik to offer to talk, but there was no way Quilla could confide in her, so she simply said, “No, that’s all right. I’ll deal with it.”

“In that case, there’s something I want to talk to you about,” Ookpik said.

“If I did something wrong, I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m distracted. I’ll focus better.”

Ookpik shook her head. “It’s nothing like that.” She grabbed a cloth, wiped her hands, then walked over to Quilla and sat beside her. “I want to talk to you about your friend.”

“Which one?”

“I think you already know which one, but in case you really don’t, I mean the one who doesn’t want to tell you her background. The one with the fiery red hair.”

“Veronique.”

Ookpik nodded.

“What about her?”

“I’ve been unsure whether to talk to you about this, but last night made it clear. I’m sure you’re aware of the tattoo on her neck.”

Quilla gulped. Somehow, she’d suspected that was what Ookpik wanted to talk about. Of all the things that could happen right at this moment, that was the absolute worst, so it made sense it was what was occurring.

Ookpik nodded. “Hmm. It would seem you’re aware of it. And its meaning?”

“It...um...has a meaning?”

Ookpik shook her head with a tsk. “That response tells me you know full well what it means. I noticed it the first time she removed her outer clothes in my place. However, I’ve known at lot of young and stupid people who go out and get tattoos without knowing what they mean. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Better she be an idiot than know what that thing stands for. Last night made me certain she knows what it means, but I’m far more disappointed that you know it too. Do you have one?”

Quilla shook her head quickly. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it might burst out of her chest at any moment.

“At least that’s something. Tell me why I shouldn’t kick you out of my home, why I shouldn’t tell the whole village and have you driven away or worse. There are some here who would happily gut her if they knew what she is.”

“Please, you don’t understand the full situation.”

Ookpik slammed her hand down on the table. “That’s why I’m asking you to explain. So do it!”

“I’m not sure where to start.”

“Try the beginning.” Ookpik wrapped her hand around the handle of an ulu and continued to glare at Quilla.

Quilla nodded. “The beginning. It starts...um...it starts with a man named Dyle. I was a foolish young girl who fell for the wrong person.” Her heart still pounding in her chest, Quilla proceeded to tell Ookpik everything: her marriage to Dyle, Corvinian, being hunted by Volgs, meeting Garet, then Felitïa. Everything. All the way up to the events that had brought them here, and the fact she needed the tattoo for the bonding with Vern in order to stay alive.

Ookpik glared at her the entire time, her hand clutching the ulu. Occasionally, her lips twitched, but she didn’t say anything until Quilla said, “And that’s everything.”

Then Ookpik barked a laugh. “So gossip girl is a Folith princess! I confess I didn’t see that one coming.” She laughed some more. “Don’t ever let Koko know that!”

Quilla took a moment to adjust to that being Ookpik’s first reaction. Then she laughed. “I won’t. I never talk to Koko anyway.”

Ookpik grinned. “Wise woman. I wish Annai and Imiq were as wise.”

Quilla was unsure what to say next. Had this really turned into a gossip session about other women in the village?

“I can see you’re worried about my response to the rest,” Ookpik said.

Quilla nodded. “Yes. Do you understand my situation now? Do you understand why I need Vern and that...that tattoo?”

Ookpik finally let go of the ulu. “What if I could offer you an alternative?”

“What sort of alternative?”

With a smile, Ookpik indicated the lines tattooed on her chin and forehead. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that every woman over sixteen in this village has at least a few of these.”

Quilla nodded.

“They’re symbols of passage through life. A young woman gets her first when she bleeds for the first time, and more as she gets older and more experienced. I could give you one.”

“How will that help?”

Ookpik reached past Quilla and traced a design in the seal blood on the table. As soon as she withdrew her finger, the blood sizzled and boiled away.

“You’re a wizard?” Quilla said.

Ookpik frowned. “In a sense, though not in the way you’re probably familiar. Not like some of the people you mentioned in your story. Eloorin and Foliths treat magic like a vocation. Isyar centre their entire lives around it. We treat it like a tool to help augment other things. Your friends would not consider me powerful by any measure, but I know a few things.”

“I’m still not quite sure what you’re proposing.”

“With a bit of time, I can prepare the inks so that they permanently hold protective magic. The tattoo I give you will then help protect you. It probably won’t be as strong as whatever this bonding with Veronique might give you, but it gives you a way out of getting that horrid goat skull that will forever corrupt your soul.”

“You really think that? Vern said I don’t have to believe in it. I just need the tattoo. It won’t make me a Darker.”

Ookpik barked another laugh. “In that case, ask her if you can do it with a different tattoo. I guarantee you, she’ll say no. You may not believe in what the tattoo represents, but the Lord of Darkness is real, and his symbols have power. Let that power in you, and there will be no turning back. You are aware that most who become Darkers do not join out of choice?”

“I’d heard something of the sort.”

Ookpik nodded. “Mm, so why do so many end up embracing it?”

Quilla wasn’t sure how to reply. She hadn’t really thought about it before.

“Because the symbol has power. It corrupts. It will corrupt you.”

Quilla could only stare back at her. Was Ookpik right? All this time, she’d been telling herself it was just a tattoo. It didn’t mean anything if she didn’t let it. Did it really have meaning and power on its own? Gods, what was she supposed to do?

“Think about it if you need to,” Ookpik said, “but I strongly advise against you getting the goat skull, and if you do, I will throw you out of my home.”

“What do I tell Vern?”

Ookpik stood up and turned back to the seal meat she was preparing. “That’s up to you, but you’ll be much better off without that Darker in your life. Assuming you don’t get the goat skull tonight, I’ll tattoo you tomorrow evening. Like I said, I’ll need to prepare the inks properly. I’ll do that during the day. For now, back to work. If you’re distracted, so be it, but try to get something done.”

Quilla nodded and picked up her ulu. Gods, what was she going to do?

* * * * *

Quilla wasn’t sure why she thought of it as a barn. Had Ookpik ever called it a barn? She couldn’t be sure. However, it didn’t have any animals in it and was more like a big shed. Yet calling it a barn seemed correct somehow.

She wasn’t even sure why she was thinking about this. Anything to pass the time, she supposed. And get her mind off her nerves, of course.

She hadn’t spoken to Vern yet, and Vern would be here any moment, expecting to start the tattoo. She probably should have, but there was no opportunity during the day while Vern was off with the hunting groups, and in the evening, she couldn’t say anything without giving away she’d spoken to Ookpik about it.

Excuses really. She could have asked to speak to Vern in private earlier this evening. She’d just been too terrified. How could she tell Vern when telling her felt like a betrayal? And if not getting the fucking tattoo was a betrayal, maybe she should get it after all? What did Ookpik know anyway? Surely the tattoo couldn’t corrupt her if she didn’t let it. Her actions were her own, tattoo or not. If it was possible to be evil without it—which it certainly was—then it was possible to be good with it.

But what if Ookpik was right?

The barn door swung open, bringing with it the bitterly cold night air. Vern strode in, carrying one of her travel bags. She pulled the door closed behind her. “Right. We’ll need a couple chairs, and you’ll want a blanket. This isn’t the warmest place and you’re going to need to strip down a little.” She dragged a couple chairs over to a relatively clear space in the middle of the barn, and tossed her bag on the floor beside them. “Oh, Annai wanted to know if you wanted her along, but I told her she should get some sleep. It would be boring for her. Though I didn’t think to ask if maybe you wanted her here for moral support. I hope that’s okay. I can go get her if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. Can we...uh...can we talk?”

“Sure.” Vern sat in one of the chairs and opened her bag. “I need a few minutes to set up anyway. Go ahead.”

It was now or never. “It’s actually about the tattoo.”

Vern was placing several vials from her bag onto the floor. “I know I haven’t said much about the actual process, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’ll be using pretty much the same method the local Zunsen...I mean In’ukt. Sorry, I have to do better about that. Anyway, it’s the same basic method they use. It’s called skin stitching. I’ll—”

“No,” Quilla said. “That’s not what...I mean...I’m not sure…”

“Fuck.” Vern put her bag down and buried her face in her hands. “You’re having second thoughts, aren’t you?” She looked up. “That’s okay. Perfectly normal. You’ve never gotten a tattoo before and you’re nervous. I get it.”

“No, it’s not that. I mean, yes, I’m nervous, but…”

Vern looked up at her with narrowed eyes. “But what?”

Quilla sighed. Vern needed to know the full truth. “Look, Ookpik knows.”

Vern’s eyes widened. “What?” She stood up. “You fucking told her?” She clutched her hand in a fist and advanced towards Quilla. “Why the fuck would you do something like that?”

Quilla held up her hands and backed up a bit. She didn’t really believe Vern would get violent, but… She wouldn’t do that, right? “She knew, all right. She confronted me today about it. About your tattoo that you wear on your fucking neck so openly.”

Vern paused. “She knew what it is?”

Quilla nodded.

“And she’s said nothing until now? That makes a lot of fucking sense!”

“She wanted to be sure you knew what it was. She said sometimes people get tattoos without knowing what they symbolise.”

Vern took a couple deep breaths.. “Fine, that actually does make some sense. I wouldn’t have thought somebody out in the middle of fucking nowhere would have any knowledge of it. Damn.”

“I get the impression Ookpik has experienced a lot of the world in her time,” Quilla said.

Vern nodded, still breathing deeply and slowly. Then she spun round and kicked the table. “Fuck! So what did you tell her?”

“I had to tell her something. I had to convince her not to throw us all out or worse, so I told her pretty much everything. My whole story. Everything. More than I’ve told you, I think.”

Vern pounded her fists on the table. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. And what did she say?”

“She was...somewhat understanding. But she said if I get the tattoo, she’ll kick us out.”

Vern laid her hands palm down on the table and leaned on it. “Okay. We’ll do the tattoo and leave first thing in the morning. We’d have to leave eventually anyway. We’ll head farther north, find another village to stay in for a little while.”

“Vern.”

“It’s best if we keep moving around. It’ll make things more difficult for anybody looking for us.”

“Vern!”

“What?”

“She offered me an alternative.”

Vern leaned more heavily on her arms, her head hanging low. “What alternative?”

Quilla took a deep breath, and explained about Ookpik’s wizardly abilities and the magical tattoo that would offer protection. She watched Vern carefully the whole time, but Vern continued to lean against the table, head hanging low.

Vern didn’t look up when Quilla finished. “I didn’t commit to anything. I needed to talk to you first. Ookpik thinks I shouldn’t trust you, and to be honest, I have to question if she’s right.”

“I haven’t proven myself to you yet?”

“Vern, I want to trust you. I really do. Against my better judgement, I like you. I like you a lot. But I just don’t understand why you want this so much. Yes, I’m the Catalyst, and protecting the Catalyst is a prestigious job. I get why you would take it when the offer is there. What I don’t get is why it’s so important when the offer isn’t there. Why not just go get another job?”

Vern didn’t move, didn’t look up, said nothing.

“If you can’t be open with me, why should I trust you?”

Vern finally stood up, taking a deep breath as she did so. “If I tell you, are you going to run to Ookpik and tell her? Or Annai?”

Quilla shook her head. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. But I need to know for myself why you want this so badly.”

Vern turned around, turned back again, looked like she was about to say something, then turned away again. “Fuck it, fine.” She started to pace back and forth and around the chairs. “I told you about my sister, right?”

“Not much, but a little, yeah.”

“Well, it has to do with her. Where I come from…” She paused in her pacing, and seemed to mull something over.

Quilla gave her a moment. It was probably best not to say anything that might upset her and make her change her mind about talking.

Eventually, Vern resumed pacing and said, “Where I come from, my sister’s betrayal affects not just her, but her entire family. We were all disgraced, and my father...well, let’s just say he’s had to pay a heavy price. I’m tasked with finding her. The only thing that can end our disgrace is if I find her and bring her to justice. Nobody really expects me to be able to do that, as she’s probably already dead by this point. See, it’s my punishment to spend the rest of my life looking for her. However, in the unlikely event she’s still alive and I find her, I can actually restore my family’s honour.” She paused in her pacing. “Following?”

Quilla shrugged. “Sort of. I understand what you’re saying, but how does bonding with me help you find your sister, especially if she’s probably already dead?”

Vern sat in one of the chairs and rubbed her forehead. “Because I happen to know my sister is alive. At least, she was about sixteen months ago.”

Quilla approached her slowly. “Go on. How do you know this?”

Vern glared at her. There was anger in her eyes, though Quilla was fairly certain it wasn’t directed at her. “Because your husband told me. I’m not sure what his reasons for it were. He just told me. But he also told me he couldn’t tell me where she was for reasons he couldn’t tell me. All he would say was he couldn’t let me find her yet, but maybe at a later time.”

Gods damn it, Dyle.

Quilla turned the other chair so it faced Vern and sat in it. “So, you want to bond with me as a way of getting to Dyle?”

Vern looked her in the eyes. “I thought if I could protect you, keep you alive, and bring you to him in Collogia…”

“He might reward you by telling you where your sister is.”

Vern gave a forced chuckled. “Got it in one.”

What the fuck game was Dyle trying to play here? Gods only knew. Dyle better already be dead, or Quilla was going to kill him for the torment he’d put Vern through. Hell, if he was already dead, she might just kill him again.

There was a tear forming in Vern’s eye. Vern turned her head away, sniffing and wiping the tear away.

“Can I tell you a secret of my own, Vern?” Quilla said.

“Seeing as we’re in a secrets-telling mood,” Vern said with a smile, “why not?”

“Ulises felt I shouldn’t tell you or the others this, but that whole situation’s all fucked up now, so fuck him. Dyle’s not my husband. Not anymore. We were married years ago, yes, and he likes to think we’re still married, but I got away from him a long time ago. I re-encountered him recently, but I really don’t want to be anywhere near him. I only agreed to any of this because Ulises gave me no other choice.”

Vern sighed. “Well, it explains why his wife isn’t a Servant. Still, he obviously still wants you around, so I’m not sure how that’s supposed to convince me not to take you to him.”

Quilla shrugged. “It’s not really meant to do that. However, there’s another part to the secret. There’s a good chance Dyle’s dead.”

“Dead? How?”

“It’s a bit of long story, which I’ll be happy to tell you later, but the last time I saw him, he had been badly injured. It was probably a mortal wound, but he had this pearl. A magical pearl. It could transport people to other locations in the blink of an eye. It took him and a friend of mine away. I don’t know where, and I have no idea if he’s alive or dead, but I really hope he’s dead. And like I said, there’s a good chance he is.”

“So what you’re saying is, no reward?”

Quilla shook her head. “Probably not. Sorry.”

Vern burst out laughing.

Quilla watched her for a moment, perplexed, but after a moment, the laughter was just too contagious and she joined in.

When Vern got herself under control, she said, “The fucking irony, right? Gods fucking damn it!” She bent over and buried her head in her hands. “I really am going to spend the rest of my life doing this. I never get to go home.”

Quilla slid her chair over beside Vern and put an arm around her. “Don’t give up entirely. You know she’s alive. Maybe you can find her another way.”

Vern looked at her, tears in her eyes. “Yeah, maybe, but it’s hard to have hope at this point.”

Quilla drew her in closer and Vern laid her head on Quilla’s shoulder. They sat like that for a little while. Vern sniffled a couple times and wiped her eyes, but otherwise, they remained unmoving. Quilla wasn’t entirely sure how long. A few minutes, maybe. But it was nice.

Eventually, Vern said, “So, I guess the tattoo’s totally out now?”

“Is there really any point?” Quilla said. “You could hold out hope Dyle’s still alive, I suppose.”

“Honestly, that was my initial reason for wanting this. But I’ve grown to like you. A lot. I actually want to help you.”

Quilla sighed and leaned her head against Vern’s. She could still do this. Even with Vern knowing the truth now, there would still be Darkers hunting her. She was still in danger. And she doubted Ookpik’s offer would be enough. “I’ll do it.”

Vern looked up at her. “Really?”

“On two conditions. One, we don’t go to Collogia. We go to Quorge.”

Vern stared at her a moment, then laid her head back on Quilla’s shoulder with a sigh. “You want to go to the Will-Breaker.”

“Yes. Sort of. Felitïa and I have had our differences, and we don’t see eye to eye on everything these days, but she’s a friend, and my best chance for safety in the long run.”

“What will she think of a Darker being with you?”

Quilla groaned. “She probably won’t like it, but I’ll stand my ground. She owes me a few things. I’ll make sure she doesn’t hurt you. But she’s only part of the reason I want to go there. My son is there too.”

Vern sat up. “Your son?”

Quilla nodded.

“The Child of the Volgs,” Vern breathed.

“I’d rather you didn’t call him that.”

Vern gulped. “Sorry. What’s his name?”

“Corvinian.”

“Is Dyle...um…?”

“The father? Yes, unfortunately.”

“Wow. Okay, we’ll go to Quorge. The second condition?”

“We don’t do it here. We’ll leave first. We can leave in the morning if you want, or whenever. But I think we owe to Ookpik not to do it while we’re still here.”

Vern nodded. “Fair. What’s another day or two?”

“Then yes, I’ll get the fucking tattoo.”

Vern hugged her. “Thank you.”

Quilla hugged her back, but the hug went on a bit longer than she expected, and after a while, she pulled back. “So, what’s your sister’s name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Vern said. “She won’t be using it. You think Veronique is my real name?”

“Fair point. What’s your real name then?”

“I could tell you that or…” Vern leaned in close to her, her cheek almost touching Quilla’s, like she was going to whisper in her ear. However, instead she merely breathed in deeply a couple times.

Quilla pulled back a bit. “What was that?”

“Sorry, just enjoying your scent. It’s intoxicating?”

“My scent?”

Vern nodded, a look in her eyes that… Was that lust?

Quilla gulped. Her heart pounded. “That’s...um...weird.”

Vern laughed. “I suppose it is, but I really love your scent. I have since I first smelled it.”

Right. There had been that moment when they first met. Quilla had forgotten about that. What the hell was that about? But it didn’t really matter at the moment. Right now, Vern still had that look in her eyes. In the past, Quilla had seen a similar look in Dyle’s eyes. In Garet’s. But she’d never seen it in a woman’s—at least not directed at her. She’d seen it in glances between Felitïa and Maneshka on Scovese, but never at her.

She wasn’t interested in women that way. Only men. At least, there had never previously been a woman who turned her head that way. But Vern was…

Vern was the last woman she should be thinking of in this way. She was a fucking Darker. But she was also strangely devoted to Quilla, and Quilla trusted her and even… Was the reason she trusted Vern because she was attracted to her?

“You look confused and nervous,” Vern said.

“Oh, um, yeah, I…”

Vern touched the back of her hand lightly against Quilla’s cheek, sending a shiver down Quilla’s spine. “No need to be nervous. I won’t bite unless you want me to.”

Quilla gulped. Her heart pounded harder.

“Tell me to back off and I will,” Vern said. “No questions asked. But…”

Did she want this? She hadn’t been with anyone since Garet died. Was the length of time making her more desirous? That was a dumb reason to want this. Or maybe she just wanted it. Yes, she wanted this. She might regret it tomorrow, but right now, she wanted it.

“I’ve never been with a woman,” Quilla said.

With a smile, Vern leaned in and kissed her. Quilla shivered.

“Then don’t think of me as a woman,” Vern said, running a hand over Quilla’s chest.

Shaking, Quilla could barely get words out. “Then what...what should I think of you as?”

Vern kissed her neck a couple times before answering. When she did she had a wide grin on her face. “The best you’ve ever had.”

Quilla wrapped her arms around Vern. “That’s a big claim.”

“Trust me.”

“I do.” They kissed passionately for several seconds.

Then Vern proved her claim.