Quilla ran a finger over the crow tattoo just below Vern’s right shoulder.

“You seem to like that one,” Vern said, leaning back and pressing her head against Quilla’s.

“I think it’s my favourite.”

“Why? It’s crap.”

It was true the artwork was pretty lousy. Quilla wasn’t even sure it was supposed to be a crow or raven. It was definitely a bird that was black, but beyond that, it didn’t really resemble any particular kind of bird. “I don’t know. I guess because it’s the most normal.”

Vern laughed. “Most normal? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, let’s see.” Quilla ran her hand down Vern’s arm. “Here we have a dagger stabbing someone’s hand. With lots of blood, I might add.”

Vern chuckled. “Yeah, that one’s my favourite.”

“Uh huh.” Quilla pulled back a little from her, then gently pushed Vern forward so she could run her hands over her back. “And here we have this big one of a giant lizard that has half swallowed this poor man.”

“That’s a crocodile, not a lizard.”

“Okay, fine, I’ve never seen a crocodile before.”

“And the man is representative of all the assholes who have screwed me over in the past.” Vern twisted around to flash Quilla a smile. “It’s what I’d like to see happen to them.”

“Yeah, that figures.” Quilla put her arms around Vern’s stomach and pulled her back against her again. “And what about this one?” She indicated the red monstrosity on Vern’s chest just above her breasts.

“Have you never seen a heart before?”

“I...uh…” That was a heart?

“It’s what a heart actually looks like if you cut a person open and take it out. They don’t actually look like those little squiggle designs people call hearts, you know.”

“I don’t normally cut people open to look at their hearts.”

“Your loss then.” Vern laughed.

With a sigh, Quilla bent her head down and kissed the crow tattoo. “That’s why this one is my favourite.”

Vern rested her head against Quilla’s again. “That was my first, you know. Unfortunately, it was also the artist’s first, and he hadn’t quite perfected his craft yet.” Her body shook with laughter. “To be fair, the one I gave him was almost as bad. It was my first, too. We decided to practice on each other so we could get better.”

“What other ones are by him?”

Vern sighed. “None. He died shortly after the sparrow. A run-in with...well, the details don’t matter. I wasn’t able to save him. I was young and...like I said, the details don’t matter.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Wait. That’s supposed to be a sparrow?”

Vern barked a laugh and clamped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry, don’t want to wake Annai, but yeah, it was supposed to be a sparrow, but we didn’t have much variety of coloured inks.”

“I thought it was supposed to be a crow or raven.”

“Either of those work, I suppose,” Vern said, chuckling some more. “He was a really bad tattooist.”

“Were you lovers?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

Vern twisted round so she was facing Quilla, their chests pressed up against each other. “Fine, we fucked like wild animals day in and day out. Is that what you want to hear?”

“No,” Quilla said, trying not to laugh. “Just an honest answer.”

Vern smiled. “Yeah, we were lovers for a little while. He didn’t live long enough for it to become long-term.”

“Again, sorry to hear.”

“Again, long time ago.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for a while. Vern’s eyes were of the deepest blue.

“Can I ask you a question?” Quilla eventually asked.

“Was he as good in bed as you? No. No, he definitely wasn’t. He was pretty bad actually.”

Quilla laughed. “No, that wasn’t it.”

Vern kissed her. “Go ahead and ask then.”

“It’s about the tattoo and the bonding.”

With a groan, Vern rolled off Quilla and lay on her back in the straw.

“I’m not backing out,” Quilla said. “I’m getting the tattoo tomorrow as planned, and so is Annai. You can refuse to answer me if you want. It won’t change anything. There’s just something I’d like to know.”

Vern nodded. “Go ahead.”

Quilla took a moment to compose her thoughts. Vern could be sensitive about this topic, so she wanted to put it in such a way as to not anger her. “Some of the things Ookpik said have been weighing on me. I told Annai—like you told me—that getting the tattoo didn’t mean she had to believe. It’s just a tattoo and doesn’t have any meaning you don’t give it.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Vern said.

“Except Ookpik said that’s not true. She said Night’s symbols have real power and they corrupt. They’ll corrupt me, and presumably, they’ll corrupt Annai too.”

“And you believe that?”

“I don’t know. But I do want to know if I lied to Annai. I’m okay if I did. At least, I think I am. But I do want to know.”

“You think I’d lie to you?”

Quilla took a deep breath. “Ookpik told me to ask you something.”

Vern rolled her eyes. “Then fucking ask it already.”

“She said to ask if the bonding could be done with a different tattoo. Can it?”

Vern took several seconds before answering. “No.”

“Why not? If they’re just tattoos with no real power, why can’t your ability work with any tattoo?”

Vern propped herself up on her elbows. “Might as well ask why you need a tattoo at all.”

“Fine. Why does there have to be a tattoo?”

“I don’t fucking know, okay?” She sat al the way up. “Look, when Servants go through the rituals to get powers, we generally have no idea what we’re going to get. We end up with a slight intuition on how to use it, but most of it is trial and error. For me, all I know is the person I bond with has to have a goat-skull tattoo. I have no idea why it doesn’t work with anything else. And before you ask, yes, I’ve fucking tried to do it without. I tried to do it with you when we met, remember? It doesn’t fucking work.”

Quilla held up her hands defensively. “Okay, okay. I just...I worry about Annai, all right? If I’m going to lead her towards corruption, I want to know.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Vern sighed, then shook her head. “No, sorry, I don’t actually get it. But I understand the concept. You care for her more than I ever could.”

Quilla chuckled. “I used to hate her, and she hated me. I was a lowly Eloorin who had seduced her brother and cheated my way into the Royal Palace. She did everything she could to make my life a living hell. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t done what she’d accused me of. I wasn’t using Garet to gain riches and social status. I loved him, and he loved me. That was all.”

“So what happened?”

Quilla shrugged. “She changed. It was slow. Zandrue started the process, I suppose. She rubbed off on Annai.”

“Who’s Zandrue?”

“A friend of mine. She got herself into Annai’s inner circle of friends. Ironically, she really was using Annai. Not to gain power, but...well, it’ s a long story. I’ll tell you about it later. But long story short, she had an effect on Annai. And then during the attack on the Palace, I ended up escaping with Annai and Gabriella. We were forced to live off the streets, and you know the rest of the story. But she’s really changed, and somewhere along the line, I started to...not really like her, but care for her. At least a little.”

Vern nodded slowly. “Okay, I get it now. A little. What happened to this Zandrue?”

“She disappeared with Dyle. I mean literally with him. They both had their hands on the Pearl. She might be alive or dead. She was in better shape than Dyle though, so hopefully she’s alive and he’s dead.”

Vern gave her a sad smile and reached out to touch her face. “I’m sure she’s alive.”

“No you’re not,” Quilla said.

Vern snorted. “Okay, I’m not, but for your sake, I really do hope your friend is alive.”

“Thanks.”

“About the tattoo corrupting people,” Vern went on, “I honestly believe what I told you. However, I guess I can’t really say for sure, but let me ask you something. What exactly is corruption?”

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. What is it?”

Quilla took a moment to think. It was such an obvious answer, so why was Vern even asking? “It’s when people get corrupt. They become bad, evil.”

“And what does that mean?”

Quilla stared blankly at her.

“How do you define evil? Stealing? You’ve done that and you don’t have a goat-skull tattoo yet. Killing? You’ve done that too.”

“I’ve stolen out of necessity.”

Vern nodded. “I know.”

“And I haven’t killed anyone. I’ve had to defend myself a couple times, but I’ve never killed.”

Vern shrugged. “Okay, but you’ve tried. You said Dyle was badly injured when he disappeared. Was that because of your friend? Or did you try to kill him?”

“I… There were extenuating circumstances.”

“I don’t doubt it. What about me? Am I evil and corrupt? I’ve killed lots of people. Most of the time in self defence, but some because I didn’t like them, some because I got paid to do it.”

Quilla sighed. Vern was a fucking Darker. Of course she’d killed people. Of course she was evil. Yet…

“I can see the answer from your expression, but if I’m so bad, what are you doing fucking me every chance you get?” Vern grinned. “Is it because you’re corrupt too? Or is it simply because we act in the moment and do what seems the best at the time? Corruption doesn’t come into it. Good and evil are terms we apply after the fact.”

“Yes, but other things can influence what we do. People and situations can limit our choices.”

Vern shifted round and straddled Quilla. “True. I never said we can’t be influenced, and sometimes we only have bad options to choose from. But we still make the choices in the end. Other people don’t, and certainly not a tattoo.” She put her arms around Quilla’s neck and grinned.

Quilla nodded. “I suppose so.” She wasn’t entirely convinced, but Vern was right about at least one thing: she was still responsible for her own decisions whether she had the tattoo or not. Perhaps that meant, even if the tattoo had real power, she could still choose to resist it. And she could help Annai resist it too.

“Let me offer you two choices,” Vern said. “One, you let me drive you wild, but risk waking Annai. Two, we play it safe and just get some sleep. It’s pretty late after all.”

Quilla rolled her eyes. “Is that all you ever think of?”

Vern grinned. “No, but it is what I’m thinking of right now. So, your choice?”

“Well, I’d hate to wake Annai.”

Vern raised an eyebrow.

Quilla grinned back. “But I think it’s worth the risk.”

* * * * *

Quilla’s arm ached. It was going to ache for a while; she knew that. It was actually aching less than she’d expected—the whole procedure had been less painful than she’d expected—which was nice, but it didn’t change the fact that it still ached. Still, she was grateful she wasn’t curled up in a ball in the hay, sobbing her eyes out from excruciating pain.

She was sitting in the hay though. It was a reasonably comfortable place to wait while Vern worked on Annai on the other side of the barn. Annai had cried out in pain several times at the beginning of the procedure, though she had calmed down somewhat now, even saying she was getting used to it—though through gritted teeth.

The barn was an abandoned one they’d discovered yesterday amid a dead field. What remained of the nearby farmhouse was mostly ashes and burnt wood, which explained why the barn was abandoned. It had to have been somewhat recent as the straw she was sitting on hadn’t rotted away, but other than that, they had no idea when the owners had left.

It was proving a decent place to stay in. Although it was a little draughty, it kept most of the wind off them, and its draughtiness mean they could make a small fire and not worry about choking on the smoke.

They couldn’t stay here for long though. It was too obvious a place to hide. If their pursuers reached here, they would definitely investigate it. In fact, Vern pointed out some tracks that indicated their pursuers had already found and investigated this place. Volgs flying overhead could have gotten here much sooner than they had. However, they were likely to double back and check it again once they realised they had overtaken their targets.

But a night or two here to give them a chance to get the tattoos and bonding done was worth the risk of discovery.

The pain flared a little, and she glanced at her arm. She had an urge to untie the bandages just for a moment. As much as the tattoo disgusted her, part of her had a morbid desire to look at it. After all, this was the first tattoo of any kind she’d ever had and it was going to be a permanent part of her now, even if it was in a location where it would remain mostly unseen—much like the birthmark on her right side. In fact, it occurred to her that if she rested her arm flat against her side, the tattoo and birthmark would probably touch.

“Done,” Vern announced.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Annai said. “I don’t think I could have taken much more of that.”

“I thought you said you got used to it,” Vern said with a laugh.

“I did,” Annai said, “but it builds over time, you know.”

Vern laughed some more. “Let’s get you bandaged. Then we can see about the bonding.”

While Vern bandaged Annai’s arm—Annai had chosen to get her tattoo in the same spot as Quilla, except the opposite arm—Quilla rose from her seat and walked slowly over to them. “Didn’t you say before we should wait a couple days?”

Vern continued wrapping the bandage around Annai’s arm, and shrugged. “That was when I didn’t realise things were so urgent. Generally, you’ll feel some tingling through the tattoo, and if it’s not fully healed, it might be a little painful. But with things the way they are right now, we can’t afford to wait.”

That was a fair point, and Quilla nodded. She was just getting a bit nervous. Still, the most nerve-wracking part—getting the tattoo—was over, so what came next really shouldn’t bother her.

Vern finished tying Annai’s bandages, then held out a hand to Annai, helping her to her feet. “Shall we do this?”

Annai, shaking a little, looked to Quilla. Then she looked nervously back at Vern. “Do you think I can have just a couple minutes first?”

Vern rolled her eyes and shrugged. “If the Volgs show up in the next couple minutes, I’ll regret it, but sure. Have a couple minutes.” She turned away and started clearing up her tattooing equipment.

Annai approached Quilla. “Are you sure about this?”

Quilla nodded. “Of course.” It was necessary, and therefore she was sure of it, even if there was a part of her that was still hesitant. But she was not going to show that hesitancy to Annai.

Annai lowered her head and took a deep breath. “Okay, if you say so. I just…”

“You got that tattoo already. That was the worst part.”

Annai sighed. “I know, but she doesn’t even know if this will actually work.”

“If it doesn’t, then she does it to just me and you don’t have to be part of it. Hopefully, it works though because it’ll be better for you that way.”

“I know, but what if something goes wrong?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. But anything could happen. What if it hurts one of us, or even kills us?”

Quilla took Annai’s hands, but before she could say anything, Vern interrupted.

“No one’s going to die from this. The worst that will happen is you feel some pain in your arm and maybe you pass out. That’s it.” Vern tied her supply bag closed and stood up to face them.

“Passing out doesn’t sound very pleasant,” Annai said.

“It’s not,” Vern said, “but you’ll recover quickly and you definitely won’t die from it.”

Quilla gently squeezed Annai’s hands. “It’s going to be fine. Trust me.”

Annai nodded. “Okay, I trust you.”

Gods, was she getting better at lying? Quilla was finding herself less and less sure the more she tried to convince Annai everything would be fine. And Annai was believing her. Gods, what if she was wrong?

No, she had to be confident, and she couldn’t let Annai see her waver.

“Ready now?” Vern asked.

Annai straightened her back and nodded. “Ready.”

Quilla squeezed Annai’s hands once more and smiled at her before letting go. “Ready.”

“Great.” Vern clapped her hands and looked back and forth between Quilla and Annai for a a few moments. “Normally, I and the person I’m bonding with will join hands. With two of you, I guess we should do it in a circle.”

Vern held out her hands, and Quilla took her right while Annai took her left. Quilla and Annai then joined hands.

“Good. Now, like I said, I’m not entirely sure this will work. If it does, you’ll feel some tingling...sorry, probably pain in your tattoo. Hopefully not too bad, though I’m not entirely sure how Quilla being the Catalyst will affect things, though obviously, I’m hoping it will let me bond both of you. If it doesn’t...well...we’ll figure something out. I’ll have to bond just Quilla.”

“Just get on with it,” Annai said.

Vern snorted. “Sorry. I don’t normally ramble, but I have to admit I’m a little nervous.” She closed her eyes for a moment and took a slow, deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”

They stood there. Quilla watched Vern carefully. Watched as she breathed slowly and deeply again. Quilla tried to copy her, timing her breathing with Vern’s. She had no idea if she was supposed to do that, but it seemed somehow appropriate. A quick glance to her other side showed Annai was doing the same thing.

For several seconds, nothing seemed to happen.

Then Quilla’s arm tingled. Only a little at first, but it grew in intensity, becoming not quite pain, but something she definitely couldn’t ignore. And it spread. Down her arm. Across her chest and down her other arm. Down each of her legs. Even through her head.

It was a little like when she’d touched Felitïa in Ninifin, though not quite the same. She became aware of every part of her body in minute detail, and all of it was screaming out in…

Fear? Pain? Pleasure? Nervousness? Excitement? Dread?

It was like every part of her was feeling everything. No, not literally everything. But a lot of things, and many things that didn’t make sense for particular body parts to feel. Exactly how could her toes feel fear?

Vern yelled. Like a cross between a laugh and a cry of pain. “Holy fuck! Gods, that’s incredible!”

Vern was feeling things so much more intensely. Energy flowed through her. It was almost orgasmic, it felt so good. Gods, she was going to enjoy this.

Wait. Quilla stared at Vern. How did she know what Vern was thinking?

Vern grinned at Quilla. “Fucking amazing, isn’t it?” She threw back her head and cried out again. “Fuck, yes!”

Annai was terrified. What were these feelings and thoughts going through her head? There were too many. She looked to Quilla, who looked back at her.

Was this what Felitïa experienced? Feelings that weren’t her own? Quilla nearly stumbled over. How did Felitïa handle it? How did she distinguish between whose was whose?

It’ll become less intense once we’re done, but don’t let go yet.

Was that Vern? It felt to Quilla like she had said it herself. It felt that way to Annai, too.

This is taking a bit longer than usual, probably because there are two of you. Hold on tight! Fuck, this is amazing!

Yes, that was almost certainly Vern.

Quilla could feel her own hand through Vern. That was a weird sensation. She looked to Vern again. Vern still had a wide grin on her face, her head tilted back, laughing. But there was something else odd about her. Her chin looked...off.

“What’s happening to Vern?” Annai said.

Oh fuck, the galdraif. Mum always warned me this could happen in moments of extreme emotion, but I never believed her.

Vern’s nose, mouth, and chin were slightly elongated, almost like a muzzle. And from her head extruded...horns? Yes, horns. They were small, but they were horns. What the fuck?

Fear enveloped the three of them. It was her own fear, Quilla knew—though maybe a small portion was coming from Annai—but they all felt it. Quilla felt them feel it. Gods, this was wrong. This wasn’t just what Felitïa went through. It was something else. It had to be. And Vern…

“What’s happening to you?” Quilla said.

Vern’s lips/muzzle pulled back in a rictus of pain. It’s fine. It’ll pass. Don’t worry about me. We’re almost done.

“She looks like a Volg,” Annai said.

There were no wings growing from Vern’s back, but her face definitely looked Volg-like. But Vern was clearly not a Volg. That was just…

Vern lowered her head and looked into Quilla’s eyes. Sadness flowed through the connection, for a brief moment even overpowering the fear.

“I’m sorry,” Vern said.

Quilla shook her head. That couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

Oh gods.

The painting in the library on Scovese. The locket with the portrait of the Ninifin woman with the Volg prince. They weren’t human women posing with Volgs. They were Volgs!

Quilla tried to pull away, but Vern tightened her grip and held her fast. Please, Quilla. Hold on just a little longer. I’ll explain everything. I promise.

She’s a Volg? Annai struggled to get away too, but Vern was holding onto her just as firmly.

Well, if Vern wouldn’t let them go, there was one other way to break the circle. Quilla and Annai unlinked their hands.

The energy linking them shot out of Quilla and vanished. Vern let go of her and Annai, and stumbled back.

But there was still a conglomerate fear. Vern was frightened now. Terrified in fact. Terrified Quilla was going to run.

“You...you lied to me,” Quilla said.

Vern shook her head. “No. I didn’t. I…”

“You’re a fucking Volg! You fucking lied to me!”

The pictures on Scovese. It was so obvious now. How had she not seen it? Had Felitïa figured it out? She had said something about having a suspicion about the pictures. Oh gods. Felitïa did know. Felitïa had figured it out and hadn’t said anything. Gods damn it, Felitïa!

Vern approached tentatively, her arm held out. “Quilla, please. I didn’t lie to you. I mean, I left some things out, yes, but only because I can’t let anyone know what I am. Can you imagine the reaction?”

Quilla slapped her as hard as she could. Vern didn’t even flinch. “Fuck you, bitch.” She backed away. “Gods, I slept with you. I let you… Don’t you ever fucking come near me again!” Then she turned and ran.

“Quilla!”

She wasn’t sure if that was Vern or Annai. Maybe both. It didn’t matter.

She fumbled at the latch on the barn door. It took much too long to open. Vern was faster than hdf, probably even faster now with her super powers. There was no way Quilla could outrun her, but it didn’t matter. She had to get out of here.

But no one reached her before the door finally opened and she ran out into the cold and the bright snow.

She wasn’t properly dressed for it, but it didn’t matter. Getting away was all that mattered.

“Quilla! Please stop!”

Fuck Vern. Fuck everyone. Most especially, fuck Felitïa. What possible reason was there for Felitïa not saying anything? With everything Quilla had been through with Volgs, how could Felitïa not warn her?

It was just like Felitïa. Holding onto knowledge, bossing people around, not letting them make decisions for themselves, refusing to go to her own brother’s funeral.

Taking away Corvinian.

There was no reaching an accord with Felitïa now. The next time Quilla saw her, it would be all she could do to not strangle her.

Fuck Felitïa.

And fuck Vern. Gods, she had started to think she was falling in love with Vern. What an idiot she’d been! She might not have known Vern was a Volg, but she knew she was a Darker. A fucking Darker! This was Dyle all over again.

If Garet were here, he’d make everything right.

But Garet died.

Why did he have to die?

Everyone she ever fell for either turned out to be the wrong person, or the right one who died.

Her foot hit something, and next thing she knew, her face slammed into some snow-covered tree roots.

She hadn’t been paying attention to where she was going. She’d just been running. It didn’t matter where. Only now did she notice the scrapes and cuts from running through underbrush.

But it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

Not anymore.

She lay there awhile.

There was a taste of blood on her tongue.

That didn’t matter either.

She should probably get up and keep running. Vern would catch up otherwise. That was the only thing that actually mattered. She had to stay away from Vern.

Gods, it was cold.

She really should stand up and move.

The problem was, there was now a booted foot in front of her face. She couldn’t tell who it belonged to, but it looked too big to be either Vern or Annai, so it was probably bad.

Not that it really mattered.

Something grabbed her by the neck and lifted her up. She gasped for air, but nothing would come in or go out.

Somewhere in the distant back of her head, both Vern and Annai mentally gasped with her.

Hot, foul breath blew over her face as her hands desperately grabbed at the single hand around her throat. Piercing grey eyes looked into hers as the world around them grew darker.

It was the same Volg that had led the attack on the In’ukt village. And now it was about to kill her. Oh well. If it hadn’t been for her, Ookpik and the other In’ukt would still be alive. She deserved to die. There wasn’t any reason left to live anyway.

Then the Volg’s grip relaxed and it dropped her. The back of her head hit the tree trunk as she fell, and the world swam around her.

Then more hands on her. Lifting her up.

She knew it was happening, but it seemed so...distant. Like she was watching someone else at the limit of her vision.

And in the opposite direction, but farther away, came the panicked concern of Annai and Vern.

Air rushed around her.

Tree tops...below her? Flying?

Fucking Volgs.

Her eyes flickered closed.

Open again.

Closed.

Open.

The world still swam, but there were walls around her now.

Cave walls?

Cave walls.

A shove and the hands let go. She fell to the floor.

A clang, then a voice.

“Catalyst? Quilla, is that you?”

Hands on her again. Rolling her over. A blurry face in front of her. It was talking.

“Dear gods, it is you. I’d hoped you’d got away. You look terrible.”

The blurry figure tried to lift her to a seated position, but she didn’t want to get up. She tried to groan, “No, leave me alone,” but she wasn’t sure she successfully formed the right words. She tried to curl into a ball.

“It’s all right. I’m here for you, but you’re badly hurt, almost certainly concussed. I need you to stay awake, so let’s get you sitting up.”

She only moaned.

Blurry guy tried to lift her again. She resisted at first, but what was the point? Nothing mattered. She let him lift her into a seated position.

“That’s better. Most of these cuts and bruises look superficial. I see you got the tattoo. It looks fresh. Have you and Veronique bonded?”

Fuck Vern. She tried to say that out loud, but it definitely didn’t come out as anything other than a gargle.

“Hmm, well, hopefully you have.”

Who was this blurry little man?

Man? She was pretty sure he was a man.

Blurry still, but he had grey hair. Lots of grey hair.

“Jakka?”

“I’m afraid you’re not very intelligible at the moment, but I think that might have been my name. Yes, it’s me, Jakka.”

He was alive. Annai would like that.

“We’re prisoners, I’m afraid. However, I will do my best to nurse you to health and keep you safe. I will not break my pledge.”

Quilla tried to smile. Maybe she succeeded; maybe she didn’t. It didn’t really matter.

Somewhere at the back of her head, Vern was enraged. Vern was coming.

Weird. Didn’t she want to get away from Vern just a short while ago?

Whatever.

Her lover was coming to save her.

That was all that mattered.