Snow had been falling for over an hour, softening lines and hushing sound. It was as if the world had thrown on a white stole, ready for the catwalk.

She glanced down at the vibrant red of her jacket, stark as the arterial spray she’d wiped from her face. “Yeah, subtle.” Eddie rolled her eyes, crept forward to the cross hatch of boughs at the clearing’s edge. It looked deserted, but she wasn’t convinced. Whoever had attacked knew what they were doing, which meant they’d be watching open ground like this on the off chance someone was stupid enough to take the shortcut.

“Wouldn’t put it past them to have conjured the snow,” she muttered, wrapping arms around herself and pulling the hood of her jacket up as she set off again through the trees, away from the village.

The opening attack had been as swift as it was brutal. Real shock and awe stuff. She’d been on the village’s central green, placating Orin by dispensing her official duties as emissary for the Sisterhood before they got to the fun bit of the visit (drinking with the adults, dancing with the kids).

Light arrived first, as was its prerogative, sound and force hot on its heels, making up for their tardiness with physical impact. The marquee was thrown into disarray. All around her, chaos reigned, people screaming and running. She stood, casting about, spotted Charlotte at the entrance to the hall, Kit and the other kids nestled under her arm, the other Sister’s gaze fierce.

Their eyes met. Charlotte nodded. “Go,” she offered, not bothering to shout, knowing Eddie would read the word on her lips. “I’ll be fine.”

No more encouragement needed.

Her friend hustled the little ones away as Eddie stepped from beneath the marquee, casting about, looking for a few key faces. People were rallying, and she felt her heart swell with pride. Jumped up onto a wagon’s running boards for a better view, looking out over the sea of bodies and smoke.

There!

“Marsha!”

They turned, green eyes finding her through the smoke.

“They must be here for the cores,” Marsha called, moving to her as Eddie jumped back down, Eran, Pop and Kas trailing behind. Eddie took a moment to nod reassurance to the adolescents, squeezing Kas’ shoulder, aware of how others perceived a Sister in this kind of emergency. Founded during the inevitable conflict that had been lit by the first sparks of true artificial intelligence, the Sisterhood were one of the factions who fought with the machines. Throughout, they sued for peace with opposing forces, developing a reputation for honour and just treatment that was instrumental in aiding the negotiations which brokered the Accord that effectively ended hostilities. Their transformation into a sect of negotiators and peacekeepers afterwards was practically a fait accompli. 

“I’ll go check on Con,” she reassured them. Pointed back behind her. “Charlotte is already heading for the hall.”

Marsha nodded. “We’ll meet her. You lot…”— pointing round at the adolescents— “…check for injured. But no dead heroes, you hear me?”

Nods of ascent as the youngsters scattered.

Marsha gripped her arm. “Be safe?”

Eddie nodded. “You t—“

A bolt of eldritch green light struck the ground to their left, sending both flying. As they righted themselves in the falling twilight, Eddie spotted the first flakes of snow.

They exchanged a worried look.

“Go!” Marsha urged her, seeing the indecision. “We’ll be okay.”

Eddie nodded, clasping hands briefly with them before she set off through the dusk.

###

A sound snapped her attention back to the present.

There was something in the meadow ahead.

Something large.

Eddie could hear it in the soft clump of impacted snow as it trod, doing its best to hide its footfalls. Others might have missed it, but her hearing was sharper than most thanks to the early years of her indoctrination.

It was one of the many gifts the Sisters bestowed.

Her coat continued to play the liability card, a disadvantage only marginally balanced by the oncoming night. At least now it more or less matched the dark slashes of wood visible through the blanket of snow. As long as she stuck to these she ought to be safe from less discerning eyes.

Yes, and what are the chances whatever is out there hasn’t been as generously gifted as you?

That had been what forced her hand at the edge of the village, where she’d come across one of the pirates and his pet daemon toying with their captive.  

Shock and awe my fucking arse, more like a child’s tantrum.

The daemon had lifted its tar black snout, lips curling back off teeth like butcher’s knives as it idly licked the neck of the young man pinned between its legs, whilst the pirate shouted threats in his face. She’d quit the masking effect of the surrounding fires, reasoning a show of power was an acceptable risk if she did it quickly. Yes, yes, this was hypocrisy of the highest order. She could practically hear Charlotte laughing at her. Her fellow sister had no such compunctions. 

She was not quick enough to save their captive, arterial spray spattering her face and coat as the beast chuckled, its master giggling maniacally as he lashed out. His blow missed, but something in the coat fizzed, the garment’s mimicry stalling on the bright red of oxygenated blood. She made them regret, springing forwards to cut the giggling interloper down with one hand, the other casting bindings of cypher at the monstrosity, trapping it in its body so her phage blades could deal a mortal blow. 

Satisfying work, but it earned her a nasty gash across ribs and cheek.

Kneeling, she cradled Wilhelm’s head as he fled to the next world, her own tears mixing with the young man’s, unable to offer any solace to the look of shocked pleading lighting his eyes for those final few moments.

Tears stung at the memory as she reached the thicket on the meadow’s edge, crouching behind a fallen branch. 

There, on the far side. A hulking shadow. Eerie red eyes.

A Dread. Great.

Unfortunately, now was not the time for such showmanship. A confrontation out here, away from the fires of the village, would be tantamount to climbing a tree and waving a burning brand in the air.

She retreated slightly, assessing her options. The thing stood directly between her and the temple ruins where she’d find Con. If Charlotte were here it might be different, though even then the odds would only have risen to fair. A Dread represented a threat several levels above the daemons the boarders had used to swell their ranks at the village. It also suggested a level of commitment greater than she had previously assumed. This was more than the casual raiding action that might otherwise be, well, not laughed off… but certainly chalked up to unaffiliated rough housing by the Accord. No, this was a sign of intent. It was tantamount to a declaration of war. Which meant the marauders had more serious backing than it originally appeared.

A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold ran up Eddie’s spine.

Delinquent.

It couldn’t be anyone else. His was the only voice loud enough to unite the Federal rabble, to persuade them war was a good idea.  Eddie had dealt with him once before, during peace keeping efforts for a particularly vicious civil war. Delinquent had been feeding arms to both sides, it appeared at the time for no other reason than to sow maximum chaos. It was only later they found out about the vault beneath one of the contested cities, purported to contain a grimoire stolen from the Inferno. At the time, Eddie and her people had foiled his efforts, but the man was canny, retreating before they could press for a final confrontation. She and the Pirate Lord had been circling each other ever since.

Now, apparently, he had decided it was time to step into the ring.  

If that were the case, they were all in much deeper shit than she’d first thought.

Straightening, she made a decision. The Dread would have a pattern to its surveillance. Reading the habits of such monstrosities was one of the first things the Sisterhood taught you. Do not be overawed by the facts of what you face. Take those facts and use them against your foe.

So she watched, counting silently, willing her senses to their keenest and her heart to calm, letting the notation rise gracile within her, choreographing her path.

Step… pirouette to cartwheel…

No time for second guesses. As the scarlet gaze shifted away, she sprang forward, her slight build lending her own footsteps a silence the beast’s had lacked. The dread swung back sharply, but she was abruptly still, frozen, part of the surrounding undergrowth.

It turned away. A bark in the distance pulled its head up.

His master’s voice.

She shuddered, fancying she recognised those elided vowels.

But why was Delinquent here? Were the cores a ruse? She shook her head, waiting until the beast had quit the meadow, mind working overtime. She forced it to stop, clearing it of useless speculation. Crouching, she stalked on through the ferns that blanketed the woodland floor. All that mattered now was getting to the vaults beneath the temple. From there she’d be able to commune with Con, find out what was going on.

###

Finally, she spotted one of the pillars that marked the temple boundary, rising cyclopean from the surrounding undergrowth. Overhead, the tree canopy was silent, the local wildlife wisely staying out of sight.

She paused, fingering the frost rimmed leaves of a low hanging branch.

The place had been in ruins for almost a century, its former purpose long since surrendered to this new role of home for the woodland’s many inhabitants. Eddie stole past the pillar, glancing left and right to mark its siblings where they disappeared into the undergrowth, describing a shallow curve that encircled the temple grounds. Ahead she caught a glimpse of torchlight shimmering on the surface of the sacred pool that dominated the clearing at its centre. If her memory served, the entrance to the vaults was on the clearing’s far side.

A pair of pirates stood at the pool’s edge, looking bored.

It was not this that snagged her attention however, but the vast, thorn covered spar thrusting down from the sky to pierce the earth. Clouds gathered about it, distance obscuring detail, but her eyes had no trouble discerning the jagged scar it had created in the firmament high above.

There’s the cause of the snow. Nailed it.

She turned back to the pirates. Moved her hand consciously away from the knife hilt at her belt. Dipped into her spool instead, murmuring softly into her cupped palm to coax the pulse there into life before standing bold to fling it at the pair. One turned, sardonic expression stuttering belatedly into panic as it clocked both her coat and the shining point of the seed as it described a perfect curve, dropping silently between them. The ensuing display was spectacular across the visual spectra as it discharged, dropping the pair like discarded marionettes.

A tiny peal of thunder followed.

Eddie brushed her hands together, permitting herself a small smile as she skirted the pool, heading for the broad stone disc on its far side. She palmed the plinth before, waking blue light across the fractal pattern upon its surface. Stepped aboard as with a soft hum it began its smooth descent into the vaults.

###

The lift arrived with a soft exhalation, illumination fading apologetically from the fractals as its companionable hum died into eerie silence. If the space above was an antiquarian temple gone to seed, the vaults beneath were an Art Deco mausoleum. She had always found the affection vaguely ridiculous, used to tease Con about it shamelessly. “One must have a touch of theatre,” was its go to response, accompanied when embodied by a gesture of the hand and raised eyebrow, a flash of pink if present in proxy. The complete absence of such proxies was one of the most disturbing things about this whole escapade. Even the aug had nothing for her. 

“Where are you, old friend?” Eddie murmured, stepping off the elevator plinth. She thought of that thing piercing the sky, and set her jaw. 

Hard lines.

Gathering herself (and her wits), she set off into the opulent gloom. Ahead, the antechamber offered a number of exits. She took the right, which led directly to the hub and also, if her internal compass was correct, the target of the thorned spar. It was like walking through the lobby of some gilded skyscraper, the illumination hushed, the floor beneath her feet an elegant pattern in tessellating black and gold. The threshold of the hub loomed before her, the entrance to some ancient sorcerer’s tomb.

[It’s about fucking time]

Eddie raised an eyebrow as she stalked into the room. “I see you kept the temple.”

[And doesn’t it look pretty? Well worth the time and effort]

“Effort, yes. Time remains up for debate. We could have just assembled the pieces ‘pre-ruined’.”

[And spoil the fun? Honestly, you have no idea how to properly appreciate entropy]

“Said the practically immortal machine.”

[Yes, and it’s that qualification that’s rather the problem here, isn’t it?]

“Hush, I got your back.”

[A sentiment that would be more reassuring if I actually had something that might qualify as one…]

Rolling her eyes, Eddie cast about the sanctum. As she’d suspected this had been the target of the spar. Debris littered the floor to one side where it had torn through the high ceiling, bridging the space to violate one of the kernel-like extrusions nestled about the gilded walnut that was the central tomb. Barbs extended from its ink black skin at the base, disappearing amidst the intestinal mass of cables that spilled from the shattered kernel, no doubt seeking access to the sarcophagus that served as a last bastion for Con’s ‘self’. Normally, that self permeated outward prodigiously, embracing this vessel as well as a host of ancillary assets like the proxies and embodiments the AI employed. Con’s existence was a rich tapestry of consciousness that extended from mind-boggling inner thoughtscapes through the ship’s physicality to satellite awarenesses both aboard and beyond the vessel’s outermost hull. The only reason they were able to converse like this was proximity. At this range, a straight link to her own systems was possible, her wight shaking hands with Con’s peripherals within the sarcophagus.

“Let me guess,” she hefted a bundle of fizzing viscera, “they cut the primary links?”

[You got it kid]

She clambered up onto the ruined kernel, pulling her sleeves up and thrusting her arms deep into the mess, parting things that glistened organically, thanking her mother for her strong stomach.

“So, options?”

[Cut off the head, obviously]

“Obviously. Is it him?”

[Delinquent? I’ve heard rumours on the grapevine]

“I told you not to listen to those squirrels.”

[Aren’t you thankful now I put the effort in with them? Only link I’ve had]

“I still maintain crows would have been a smarter move. Literally.” She pulled a particularly thick cable out, caught it between her legs— “Don’t even say it” —.and fished out three smaller ones, one of which was sparking. Lifted this close to a forefinger and used a fraction of her spool, dialled right back, to balance the circuit charge. Lowering them, she aligned the trio with the thicker junction between her legs, nodding in satisfaction as the two units sensed each other’s presence and began to mesh. “There.”

[Ah…! Much better]

“Are any of the whiskers still yours?”

[One. But they’ll know as soon as we use it]

“Worth the risk?”

[Now you’re here? Yes]

An invitation blinked translucent before her. She offered a tight smile of ascent, her wight accepting the connection with ghostly hands, putting her through like an old telephone operator.

Suddenly, she was beyond the hull, adrift amidst a field of expanding debris. The tiniest of course alterations swung their view back to the carnage.

The Last Confession was beautiful, an elliptical study in dark chrome not dissimilar to the casing that housed Con’s primary consciousness, occluding the surrounding star field like a ripple in the ocean. But that perfect exterior had been shattered, pierced in at least four places. The enemy vessel dominated the sky to one side, all but obscuring the light of the local sun. Multiple limbs radiated from a central core like some sea creature in threat display, half a dozen more extending towards the Confession itself. At the impact points of the quartet that had found their mark, debris like shattered glass bled into the surrounding night.

Abruptly, the feed flared scarlet, went blank.

[They found us]

“Indeed. So, it looks pretty bad.”

[I see you haven’t lost your talent for understatement. Oh dear]

She slid back down the side of the kernel, crossing to one of the walls where a previously invisible panel recessed back to reveal a repair kit. She set to work on her jacket, shot the hub a look. “What?”

[Do you want the bad news, or the orifice tightening, awful news?]

“Oh, I’m always up for having my orifices tightened.”

[Slut]

“Out with it.”

[Well, I’m down to one offensive unit. That isn’t already engaged]

“One?!”

[I’ll have you know, young lady, that I have a lot of people to take care of!]

“Okay, okay, point taken. What is the only marginally bad news?”

[He’s delivering his ultimatum. Delinquent. Or at least I assume it’s him speaking through that ridiculous frontman. Asking for you]

“Specifically?”

[Organisationally]

He wanted a Sister. Must have gotten wind we were here. An informant or something… “Fuck.”

[I presume we have arrived at the same conclusion]

“That the cores are a side show.”

[Though he has indeed sent a crew to relieve me of them. Exotics are tough without the right manufactories]

“He’s here for us.” She tapped her head. “For this.”

[Indeed]

The thing all sisters of rank carried. The key. The key to unlocking the wards around Enigma, her order’s secret military cache. Rumoured to contain, amongst other terrors, black phages powerful enough to take down a fully fledged AI like Con.

“Shit bags.”

[An entire wagon of them]

She scowled at the machine. “Not helping. Show me.”

Con proffered a screen.

There were demands.

Apparently some of Marsha’s kids hadn’t listened. A line of worried faces gazed up at the drone slowly drifting past them, the pirate Eddie was labelling ‘The Mouth’ walking backwards before it, sounding off a string of implied threats. He got to the end, stopping to finger Eran’s curls before turning to face the feed once more.

“So, what’s it to be Sister?” he asked, eyebrow cocked, thumbs hooked in belt loops. “While I’d love the opportunity to tenderise some fresh meat, we’d far rather you gave us what we want.” He tapped his head. “You’ve a rotation to decide, local. If we haven’t heard from you by then… well, least we’ll have some new recruits. Those that don’t pique the Captain’s interest…”

The man had clearly done this before, played well to the camera. But Eddie had eyes only for the figure stood in the snow behind them. Witchfire eyes beneath a mop of dark hair. Left arm bare to show off the freshly cut sigils crusted in dried blood, their seams glowing faintly. Prayers to the otherside. Delinquent hailed from the Shallows, where truck with infernals was far more commonplace.

Those eyes stared out of the screen, seeming to find her own.

[I do have one piece of good news for you] the ship offered, as it banished the display. [A wild card if you will. Would you like to see it?]

Her jacket stuttered briefly into static, before settling into her preferred default, a pattern of deep shadow that slipped easily from conscious attention. Stowing the repair kit, she turned with hands on hips to face the tiny neon V-proxy that had popped into view. “This had better be good.”

[This way] The V-proxy set off smoothly across the room, making a show of turning briefly to check she was following. Eddie stuck her tongue out, waved it on impatiently. 

###

“A wizard.”

The figure raised a skinny finger from one voluminous sleeve to push goggles up onto their forehead. “Actually, I’m a Daiku…?”

Eddie shot them a look. Turned back to the neon ball of tessellating light. “You brought me a wizard.”

[Technically a grid manipulator. But yes. And they brought themself. Were hiding in one of the nearby holds. I directed them here]

“You helped them, not me?!”

The wizard, who had clambered awkwardly to their feet, turned from brushing off the hooded kimono that hung from a body like a bunch of pipe cleaners. The goggles now acted as a headband, barely containing an afro so white it was almost phosphorescent. Worried eyes regarded her nervously, the hallmark golden irises of their calling flaring as she sensed them reinforce their ice.

[Their connection lets them commune at greater distances than yours]

“Huh.” Good to know.

“Excuse me…” They both turned to the Daiku “…Can someone please explain what the fuck is going on?”

So, it does have a spine. Eddie sighed, forcing herself to relent. The kid looked terrified, and was favouring their right arm. Though as she stepped up to proffer a hand, she realised the ‘kid’ had a good six inches on her in height. “Pirates,” she offered, shaking the warm, dry palm that enveloped her own.

“You’re one of the Sisters,” the Daiku smiled. “Even on a ship this size, someone like you makes the feeds.”

Eddie bowed her head in acknowledgement, shooting a look at Con. The V-proxy did a poor job of feigning innocence, a ring of light flaring briefly above it.

“So. You live here? I didn’t know Daiku did space travel…?”

“Technically Post-Daiku.”

“This going to be a problem?” She indicated the arm and was rewarded with a vehement shake of the Daiku’s head.

Eddie nodded, digesting this. Decided to treat them like the adult (and asset) they clearly wished to be considered. “The Confession‘s compromised. We need to find a way to get the pirates off ship. Preferably without hurting anyone.” Though as she said it Eddie wondered how much of a challenge that might be. The Confession was pushing eight kilometres prow to stern.

“Are Dayx and Shira okay?” they asked, looking at the V-proxy.

[Safe in the Opera House. People have holed up where they can. To be honest, the pirates don’t seem too bothered, beyond keeping everyone out of the way where they’re working. They appear confined to engineering and the parkland at present] 

Eddie had heard stories of what Delinquent did to his people. Rooms in the bowels of (ship name) filled with jars, each containing a piece of the crewman’s soul.

She’d heard a darker rumour still, that each soul shared its prison with a piece of Delinquent’s own soul, set there to bind and torment it. Certainly that would explain his people’s often schizophrenic behaviour. 

The Daiku sighed in relief at Con’s report. “Kal, by the way. Kaleshi, if you’re my mother.”

Eddie grinned. “Edina. But you can call me Eddie.”

Kal nodded. “So, we need a plan.”

[About that…]

Eddie turned to the V-proxy, raising an eyebrow.

[I may have an idea…]

She groaned, winking at Kal. “Come on then, let’s hear it.”

###

“This is your plan…”

The V-proxy dipped in the air. Kal hid a smile behind their hand, turning to reach for needle and thread. Between them, the table looked like something from a child’s nightmare. A plush autopsy. The child’s toy, actually one of Con’s ambulant nanny units, lay spread-eagled, a neat incision opening it from sternum to perineum. White stuffing erupted from the hole like cartoon viscera.

“Our biggest problem is the Dread.” Eddie finished pushing the fang into place amidst the stuffing, nodded to Kal to close it up. “A few scummy pirates I can handle.”

“What about Delinquent?”

Eddie saw the fear in their eyes. Reached across to squeeze their arm. It appeared she wasn’t the only one who had heard the stories of what happened to captives of the Pirate Lord.

“I’ll handle him. You two concentrate on the Mouth and his lackeys.”

Kal nodded soberly.

[I have Charlotte]

“Bless your code.” Eddie accepted the line, apparently strung between the aforementioned squirrels. “Char?”

“We’re okay. Where are you?”

“Eviscerating teddy bears. Don’t tell Max.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Testify. What do you need?”

“Diversion.”

“When?”

She looked atthe machine. [About twenty subs]

“Done. You two be careful.”

She smiled, knowing her friend would hear it in her voice. “You too.”

###

Above, they stepped out into the snow. The pirates she’d downed still lay where she’d left them. She caught Kal starring as they passed. “Where have we agreed?”

[The meadow, where you saw the Dread?] The bright V-proxy eclipsed briefly in dismay. [They’re bringing a shuttle in]

“Not wasting time, is he?”

As they neared the clearing, Eddie risked sending a couple of her own whisk-ARs ahead, figuring it would be expected anyway. They confirmed the presence of Del, the Mouth, the Dread and a smattering of lackeys, before one of the daemons snuffed them like moths in a candle flame.

They released the plush. Watched it toddle off through the snow, a little ball of fur and heat that might, just might, pass for local fauna. 

“Ready?”

Kal regarded her. Nodded.

“Just remember: save the kids. All you need to think about. I’ll do the rest. Char?”

“Distraction primed.”

“Excellent. Here we go.”

Those last hundred metres Eddie forced her mind to clear, unclenched her jaw. Wished she could speak to Char properly, just for a moment.

One of the daemons was there to meet them at the treeline, skin smoking softly in the darkness. Someone had thought to put out lanterns for those without night vision, painting the scene in shades of stark light and shadow. The daemons and Delinquent’s familiar threw out soft red glows around them in AR. At their backs, the shuttle was completing its descent.

The Mouth smiled wide as they approached, straightening from the work of terrorising his charges. “Nice to see your reputation is justified,” he called, grinning. “And you brought us a gift! How kind.” Kal flinched as he crossed the space to run a calloused hand down their cheek. “Prime cuts for the meat grinder.” He swirled his hips, the other crew members chuckling.

Eddie raised a finger, discharging a fraction of her spooled reserve. It was petty, pointless, but the satisfaction of seeing Mouth land on his backside was well worth it.

“Enough, Tranchon.”

Mouth re-holstered his side arm. Stood, dusting off and blowing a kiss at Kal before ceding the floor to his master. The action felt right. Ordained. There was something about the Captain that commanded the space. A gravity that drew attention in. Eddie imagined he dominated any room he entered.

“So, you offer yourself.”

Eddie cocked her head beneath her hood. “I come to parlay.”

“And yet the knowledge you hold in your head is useless without you, sweetling.”

Damn. He knew about the gene locks.

A small smile acknowledged her inner monologue. “So. State your terms.”

“The children go free.”

“After we board.”

“Before.”

Witchfire eyes narrowed. Delinquent glanced at the Mouth, who grabbed Kal, herding them with his charges to the edge of the clearing, the Dread slinking up behind them. “Final offer,” Delinquent replied, turning back, one palm outstretched.

The notation rose within her, calculating steps. A grim choreography emerged. Grim, but it would work.

Done. “Very well.”

Delinquent’s smile was feral, the bow that guided her towards the waiting shuttle courtly.

Eddie glanced at Kal. 

[Now]

An explosion echoed in the distance. Eyes and snouts raised towards the horizon.

A second concussion burst from beneath the dread, swallowing its carcass in light. Eddie just glimpsed the dome of ice Kal threw about themself and the children, shoving the Mouth aside at the last minute to be caught in the fire.

Eddie cartwheeled to land behind one of the pirates, dropping them easily, banishing the daemon with a sNO-ball. On the far side of the clearing the fang rose, dispatching the second pirate.

“Stop.”

Delinquent had a knife to Eran’s throat. Mundane. Unassailable. On the other side of the clearing, the remaining daemon had the fang in its talons.

“You, here now, or the child dies.”

The choreography fell apart.

Hands raised, thumbs peeking from the holes in her sleeves, Eddie crossed the snowfield to stand in the scarlet light of the shuttle’s hatch. Delinquent gestured impatiently. Eddie rolled her eyes, extending a hand to allow the familiar to climb her arm, feeling it cut her access. Delinquent grabbed her shoulder, pulling her into him, the knife still at Eran’s throat in the other hand.

“We agreed you would let them go.”

Delinquent’s look was poison. “That was before you decided to get clever.”

Alan’s fucking apple… Eddie thought, allowing herself a tight smile for the mathematical genius the Sisterhood viewed as one of their founding influences. She permitted herself to be forced into the waiting vessel by the pirates, the daemon remaining below to menace the other children. The shuttle began to rise swiftly.

Eddie’s mind raced, searching desperately. But they were already too high to push Eran safely from the still open hatch.

Suddenly, the craft bucked as a final burst of light engulfed the daemon below, scrubbing it from physical space. Eddie had the briefest of warnings, sensing the tiny shift of gravity she’d experienced once before as Kal Stepped into the cabin, coalescing from golden light. She dove at Delinquent, putting all her strength into shoving Eran from his grip. The child tumbled screaming into Kal’s arms, the Daiku grabbing them to Step again from the accelerating vessel.

Delinquent turned on her, those feral eyes seeping into madness. “Oh, you shall come to regret that, my sweetling.”

Eddie stepped in close, encircling his shoulders, feeling them tense in confusion. “I am not your sweetling.”

Smiling grimly, she released her spool.

Blinding light engulfed the world.

###

There was such a demand to attend the funeral, Con had to move it to their main amphitheatre. Even then, people were forced to wait outside, crowding the hill at the back of the venue in the autumn twilight. The aberrant winter had been banished with the reinstatement of Con’s outer fields.

By popular demand, Kal told the story of those final moments. Eddie’s bravery.

Charlotte came forward with the apple that was the Sisterhood’s symbol, taking the ritual bite out of it before placing it on the empty pyre, Eddie’s final act having robbed them of any remains to burn.

Eran stepped up to light the tinder, dropping the torch in amongst the piled logs.

Con, present in ambulant proxy, placed an arm round Kal’s hitching shoulders, as they watched the rising sparks climb into the darkening sky.