The Traveling Point to Chliofrond drifted above the dark sapphire ocean, just barely able to be made out in the open sky, the only evidence of its existence being a shimmering mirage. It took the remaining crew a few minutes to actually find it.

But there it rippled. Captain Orvisan's eyes squinted as he glared out at it, chewing the inside of his cheek. The Guttersnipe lurched, all but limped, across the sky, the crew seeing to repairs as she sailed, patching the mast back together, retying ropes, applying rough planks to the gashes in her hull.

“Right,” he growled, “We have a bit of time to ourselves. No pursuers behind, only what's ahead.”

He looked exhausted. He either colored his beard and had run out of dye, or the stresses of constant battle had taken far more of a toll than his gruff exterior had let on. Regardless, he was going gray. Deep bags hung beneath his eyes, purpled like twin bruises.

“We should get down,” Rosemary said behind him, “I think there should be islands that we can hide out on.”

“Are we safe down there?” Meleko asked. He was resting one booted leg on the railing, looking out beyond the ship, towards the seas below, “Here there be monsters, and all that.”

“Either the monsters below, or the monsters above,” Rosemary said, “If the Verdant Reclamation's still on Chliofrond, they're going to be sending people in and out. I'm surprised we haven't met anyone else so far.”

“Down, then,” Orvisan said, “I'm sick of elves.”

Rosemary gave him a look.

“...Present company excluded, of course.”

And the Guttersnipe descended, towards a small island far below. It was mossed over with tropical trees, palms and the like, and the water around the island was shallow and sky blue. The caravel settled down near the treeline, and Zad brought up a hand, waving it to and fro. The air around the ship began to shiver.

“Not going to hold under any sort of scrutiny, Captain,” he said, “I should warn ye.”

“It's fine,” Orvisan said, stroking his beard, “We cross that bridge when it comes.”

He let out a heavy sigh, turning to Meleko, Rosemary, and Ora Sota.

“Now,” he said, “What's the plan?”

***

They were on the beach near the ship, Meleko leaning against the hull, checking over his rifle, his pistols, his combat knife. Rosemary sat down beside him, scrunched up in her red cloak, despite the relative warmness of the day. Captain Orvisan looked right at home, scratching at his beard as he popped out a bottle of rum, taking shots at it every so often. Ora stood a bit away from them.

Entranced.

He had never known that such places existed. His toes buried themselves into the warm sand, the wind rippled through his fur, his ears. The sea beckoned to him, waves crashing softly against the shore. He heard birdsong in the trees, and though they were just a bit too loud for his sensitive ears, they were beautiful, in their way.

“Ora?” Meleko said.

He stepped out of the treeline, and the sun shone, warm and comfortable, beckoning to him-

Rosemary grabbed his shoulder. Ora shook out of his stupor, glancing back at her.

“S-Sorry,” he said, “Just...”

He looked out to the ocean again.

“I've never been to a place like this before.”

The past few days had been exhausting. Rosemary had an emptiness in her eyes that had not been there when they had left Scuttleway. But despite this, she gave him a smile.

“Once we're done here, you can go to any beach you please,” she said, “I know there are at least a few in the Silver Eye.”

She pulled him back to the group.

“As I was saying,” Orvisan said, “If what you say is true, Rosemary, and the elves are still on the dead plane, then there's bound to be shipments coming in and out. How often do you think they'll be?”

Rosemary thought for a few moments, struggling to remember her conversations with Sunala. The noblewoman had gone over logistics with her.

“There's no food on Chliofrond,” she said, “And growing anything would take months.”

“Which, they could have started a harvest,” Meleko said, “I know of several waterborne plants that they could grow to eat there.”

“Maybe,” Rosemary said, “But there's also questions of exporting and importing. They've got to get Chliofrond up and running if it's going to be profitable. The more evidence they have of it being a bargain deal, the better their chances are back home.”

Orvisan nodded.

“So, we wait?” he said, “See what that's looking like?”

“If we just barge in, willy-nilly, they're going to stamp us out,” Rosemary said, “I wouldn't be surprised if they've got some sort of security on the other side, scanning for any interlopers. Elementals, like the kind that we saw on the Gil-Galad.”

“And you're thinking we hitch a ride on one of them,” Meleko said.

“Something like that,” Rosemary said, “I think we'll need to plan out more, get more information, but it's a start.”

“Hmm, I'll post a few of the crew to keep an eye on the Traveling Point,” Orvisan said, “Once we get an idea of what's going in and out, we'll go from there.”

Meleko finished checking over his pistol. He put it into its holster, turning to Ora.

“You still have the one I lent you?” he said.

Ora had wanted to throw the damn gun away after he had shot the elf. But he had learned to be less foolish. He produced it, presenting it to Meleko.

Who jumped, pushing the barrel down away from his face.

“Hey, hey!” he said, “Gun to the floor. You know the rules.”

“Y-Yes,” he said, “Sorry.”

Meleko took the gun from the Nelnuthan's hands, giving it a once-over.

“Going to polish it,” he said, “Here, let me show you.”

Orvisan turned to Rosemary.

“I'll let you know if I see anything.”

“I'll keep watch, myself,” she said.

“No, you look tired,” Orvisan said, “You should rest. Sleep. You're going to need it, if we're truly going through to the other side.”

He glanced up towards the sky, the Traveling Point. He was bristling.

“One Elven ship nearly brought us down,” he said, “I don't relish having to go against a fleet.”

***

They kept watch, two at a time, the rest of the crew working on scouting out the island for danger or repairing the ship. Ora sat with Meleko, the Jugdran showing the Nelnuthan how to clean the firearm, wiping it down, taking it apart and polishing each piece. Rosemary went to bed, but the Guttersnipe's innards were warm today, so she found herself tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable.

So, after a while, she got up, stretching. Truth be told, she didn't feel much like resting, even if they were captain's orders. The rest she needed could only be had after the mission was over. After it was done.

After...

After Sunala was out.

Because she could not admit to herself that her mind kept drifting back to the Gil-Galad. To Elzan Chi devouring the ship, mast and all. She could almost imagine the screams. She wondered, for about the hundredth time, if anyone she knew had been onboard. She would probably think about that for a long time, even when all of this was over.

One did not meet a god without such thoughts.

So she took to wandering the ship, though the caravel was rather small, all things considered. Not like the Recluse, damn her crew, which had been a true cargo liner. So she went out onto the deck, ignored Orvisan's sharp look, leaned down to watch the sea.

She missed these sounds, this atmosphere, this world that she could only steal when she went to Kelphaven. The sounds of an ocean always calmed her, for there were none back on her home plane. And Scuttleway was a mining town. She had, once upon a time, worked as a barmaid on Paladyos, listening to sailor's songs and tales.

A part of Rosemary yearned for that. Yearned to be away from... all of this. The guilt. The trepidation.

One of the crewmembers shouted. Pointed. High above, the Traveling Point began to vibrate. Becenti would have been able to describe it better. But then, he was trained to see the hidden places of the world better than she.

A ship poured out of the Traveling Point. A galleon, like the Gil-Galad, those this one was umber-colored, her name emblazoned in gold on her hull. Rosemary squinted, then took Orvisan's offered spyglass as the gnome ran up to her side.

“The Vanima,” she read, “I think that's Adonal Adaya's ship.”

“The head of the Verdant Reclamation?”

“One of them,” Rosemary said, “I think he was looking after Chliofrond, preparing it for the election.”

“He's leaving,” Orvisan noted, and indeed, the galleon was trailing across the skypath back to Entheos.

“He doesn't always travel with the Vanima,” Rosemary said, “If I remember right, he mostly sent it out as a message to others that he was personally involved. Kind of like Sunala, with the Gil-Galad.”

“A raising of the standard,” Orvisan said, “I saw Lord Rithmound do that once, when tensions with Procambarus got a bit heated.”

“We'll need to see if it returns any time soon,” Rosemary said, “Or if any other ship makes its way in.”

“We continue the watch, then,” Orvisan grunted.

***

“Tell me, Meleko,” Ora Sota said, “Might I ask you a... personal question?”

It was later in the day, the sun beginning to burnish the sky bronze-orange. The two of them had moved to the deck with a few of the crew, and a small pick-up game of cards had started up. Meleko was joining in on it. Ora chose to merely watch.

“Sure,” Meleko said, yawning. He tossed a card into a small pile.

“It's rather intense,” Ora warned.

“I already have a feeling,” Meleko said.

“...Do you remember your first time killing someone?”

Meleko let out a huff, thinking, all four of his eyes furrowing. Some of the crewmates looked at Ora with reprimanding looks, and he felt an odd sense that he had broken some sense of decorum.

But the Jugdran waved a hand.

“It's alright,” he said to them, “Just keep playing.”

“If you're going to talk about death,” one of them, Cala, said, “Then you do it away from us. I'm sick of it.”

Meleko gave a grim nod, rising to his feet. He slapped Ora on the back.

“Come on,” he said, “Let's get off the ship. I'm feeling cramped.”

He jumped off the railing, landing hard in the sand. He glanced up at Ora, who began to clamber, bit by bit, down the rope ladder on the ship's side. The Nelnuthan let out a deep exhale as his feet touched solid ground. The sand was starting to cool with the day's end.

The two of them moved off, away from the Guttersnipe and deeper into the forest. Even as the sun disappeared, they could still hear birdsong. Meleko noted that Ora's ears were flickering.

“Bad sound?” he said.

“One would think, after everything, that my hearing would be a bit sterner,” the investigator said, “But no, I'd suppose not. The Nelnuthan's gift, the Nelnuthan's curse.”

Meleko snorted. Leaned against a tree.

“Right,” he said, “Some folk think it's a bad thing, talking about stuff like this.”

“Death,” Ora said.

“Death's a natural part of life,” Meleko said, “No, what they're concerned about there is the act of death. Of killing. Taking another being's life.”

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“But... not you?” Ora asked.

“I was raised a mercenary,” Meleko said, chuckling, “We're not like you Nelnuthans. We don't have family, or kin, or any of that business. Your daddy gave you a nice, cushy job as an investigator, didn't he?”

Ora felt himself grow warm.

“Well, y-yes,” he said, “As did his father before-”

“We don't have those sorts of relationships,” Meleko said, “I never knew the being that birthed me. I was dropped off on a wartorn world, told to pick up the pieces.”

“...Ah.”

“So death was my father,” Meleko said, shrugging, “Been with me my whole life. I killed my first sapient when I was...”

His four eyes went distant. Cloudy.

“...Three standard years, I believe,” he said, “Then, Jugdrans age quicker than most. I would have been your equivalent to nine.”

Ora shuddered. The barbarity. The callousness.

“I'm sorry,” he said, his voice bare and whispering.

“It's alright,” Meleko said, then added, “You must pity me.”

Ora said nothing, for he did.

“But it's just the way I was born,” he said, “The way I was raised. It's... normal, you know?”

“It doesn't feel normal,” Ora said, and his ears wilted, “I... I don't...”

And Meleko put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, “It was kill or be killed.”

“That does not make it better,” Ora said, “I still see his eyes, Meleko. I still feel his presence. Like a ghost.”

“That goes away, with time,” Meleko said, “It's your body's reaction to stress and adrenaline. Too much gets the blood pumping. One day you'll wake up, and realize that you don't think about it anymore. It only comes up every once in a while. Like grief.”

“Is that it, then?” Ora said, “Am I to have these feelings... forever?”

“Maybe,” Meleko said, “But to be in the multiverse is to be changed.”

Ora thought on that.

“Look, you want my view on it?” Meleko said, “My opinion on you?”

“I am... open, to such thoughts,” Ora said, carefully.

“You've been living on your cushy little world in the Post-Colonial, or the Inner Reach, or wherever,” Meleko said, “Investigating multiversal lives. How folks out here live. How I live, now that I've left the Silver Eye. Things shake out right, you'll get home safe. But you've tasted a bit of what it's like out here.”

He looked at Ora, dead on.

“And, let me tell you,” he said, “There's a reason I left the Silver Eye to take up mercenary work with a guild. The multiverse is a rough place to live. It's a place of violence, and only by living in it, do you get a real understanding of what it's like.”

“And your point is?” Ora asked, feeling a bit defensive.

“What are you going to do when you get home?” Meleko said, shrugging, “That's the lesson, there, the-”

They heard a scream, deep in the jungle. Meleko's head shot in the direction of the sound. At once his rifle was in his hands.

“Get back to the ship,” he ordered, “Watch my back.”

Ora complied. He, after a moment's hesitation, unholstered the pistol, holding it in trembling hands. Pointed it at the ground, like Meleko had taught him.

The two stepped backward, carefully, in the direction of the Guttersnipe. At once the island was quiet. Ora's mouth went dry.

“Can you hear anything?” Meleko whispered.

The Nelnuthan's ears swiveled. He could make out...

“Movement, I think,” he said, “Moving parallel.”

They took another few steps back. The light of the Guttersnipe's lamp washed over them. By now the sun was almost gone, dipping below the sea, the sky half orange, half dark blue.

Rosemary slapped Meleko on the shoulder. She was alert, her sceptre in hand.

“What was that?” she said.

“Not sure,” Meleko said, “One of the crew.”

“Right,” she said, “Ora, get back to the ship.”

“Already on it,” Ora said, “I'll be below decks.”

“You want to guard him, or me?” Meleko asked.

“You,” Rosemary said, “I'll handle whatever's out there.”

The Jugdran nodded. He and Meleko went back to the ship, climbing up the rope ladder onto the deck. The crew was on high alert, weapons drawn, crossbows aimed at the trees. Orvisan was signaling orders. Some of the crew were joining Rosemary as she went out into the jungle. Ora watched as she melted into the treeline.

***

She was moving carefully through the forest, so quiet that the trees hardly stirred. The sun was dropping fast from the sky, the shadows lengthening, disappearing altogether as they became overwhelmed with night. Stars hung beyond the canopy above. The moon was bright tonight. That was good. She could see a bit better.

She took a moment to gauge the trees around her. They were mostly palms, so no branches to jump from. This would be a ground game.

Other members of the crew moved with her. The crew of the Guttersnipe had not yet sated themselves with Elven blood, and their weapons were drawn as they moved through the underbrush that caked the jungle's floor. They were not as quiet as Rosemary, however, which perhaps was to her advantage.

They would stir up whatever was on the island, whatever had silenced that crewmember. The scream had been a final one, she knew it.

She took a deep breath. Steeled herself. And went forward.

The crew moved into a small clearing in the center of the jungle. They signaled to one another, their hand signs just barely able to be made out in the dusk. One of them, Cala, stepped into the very center, where she looked down.

There was a body.

They were still moving. Rosemary squinted.

Yes, they were still alive. But they were in a fetal position. Maybe something had hit them in the stomach? She glanced around. No one else was here. Whoever their assailant was, they were going guerilla, sticking to the shadows.

And then Cala shuddered, twisted. She let out a barking cough of pain before they all heard a series of sickening snaps. She fell to the ground. In the same position as her comrade.

Rosemary's eyes widened. She immediately took to a tree, scrambling up.

She knew who they were facing.

“Metahuman!” she roared, “It's Brother Bone!”

At the sound of her voice, the entire jungle became alive. The crew tensed. At the word 'metahuman,' they all immediately drew back from the clearing.

Brother Bone. Nelthel. That had been his fake name, while he had been working as an assistant to Sunala. He and his sibling, Brother Brain, had tried to claim the Shard on Chliofrond for their own. Broon and the others had stopped them. She thought that they had been arrested. Trussed up. Sent to Prime, or wherever.

But no, he was here, on Redenia, near the Traveling Point.

Rosemary leaped, scrabbling up another palm, then another. She needed to hide her location from him. She didn't know his range, or if he needed to see her to use his power.

True to his name, he controlled bone. Any bone. He had turned her into a pretzel, last time. And there was no Phineas to save her if he caught her again.

Another of the crew collapsed. Another series of snaps. Shit, she had to be fast. Rosemary scanned the trees, keeping an eye out...

No, it was too dark. The shadows were to his advantage.

Her sceptre glowed. Rosemary swung it 'round, casting out a series of glowing balls that scattered across the clearing, each one shining like a will-o-the-wisp. There. Now she could see a bit better.

At once she leaped back, just in case she was still in Brother Bone's range.

Then...

There. She saw him. Hiding behind a tree on the other side of the clearing. Rosemary took aim, breathing in, out.

When she fired, the beam of light split into a vise-like construct. It wrapped around Nelthel, clawed his torso, held him fast to the palm.

“Don't move!” Rosemary said, “You try anything, and I'll crush you!”

He spat out a series of curses. Then-

“Fine!” he said, “You got me, god damn you.”

***

They dragged him off of the tree, Rosemary's construct tightening around him as he was pulled loose from the palm. Rosemary glared at him as two of the crew dragged up to his knees.

“The crew,” she said, “Unbend them. Now.”

“I'll need my hands for that,” Brother Bone growled, “Better get that fish of yours.”

She slapped him hard against the face.

“Get him to the ship,” Rosemary said, “We'll figure this out there.”

They pulled him to his feet. Began to guide him. Rosemary stood a ways back, sceptre pointed at his back. Any funny moves, he was getting a beam through his spine. A few more picked up the three who had been twisted up by the metahuman's power, carrying them back to the ship.

Lights shone on them as they arrived at the Guttersnipe.

“Meleko!” Rosemary said, “I need Meleko!”

Movement on the deck. She saw the Jugdran appear, rifle in hand.

“Rosemary,” he said, “All good?”

“No, Mel!” Rosemary said, “It's Brother Bone. He's got a few of the crew all twisted up.”

“Brother Bone?” Meleko said, and she saw him squint to see the man wrapped in light in front of her, “You fuck! What are you doing here?”

Bone said nothing, looking away.

“Meleko, how's your aim?” Rosemary said.

“In the dark? Let me grab a scope.”

He reached into a bag, fishing around for a few moments, before he clicked a scope onto his rifle. He laid the firearm onto the railing, leaning in and taking aim.

“Yeah, I'm good,” he said, “We popping him now?”

“No,” Rosemary said, “I'm going to move him back. Removing his bonds. If he tries anything, kill him.”

Meleko grunted in approval. Rosemary went to Nelthel, grabbing his bindings and dragging him back. She moved him to a range she was comfortable with, setting him back down on his knees.

“Alright,” she said, “I'm going to remove the bindings. You use your powers, get the crew back to normal. Meleko's got his sights on you, so if you try anything, he'll shoot you.”

“The Jugdran?” Brother Bone said, “Ah, yes, I see him. Hell of a marksman. Fine. I'll release your crew.”

Rosemary nodded. She pressed the sceptre against the light construct, willing it to dissipate. Her heart was hammering as Nelthel pointed a hand at Cala first. There was another series of crunches as he knit her back together, and by the way her face contorted, it was not a pleasant experience.

He did it with the two others, as well, and then Rosemary recast the bindings around him.

“Can I kill him now, Rosemary?” Meleko called from the deck, “Please?”

“No,” Rosemary said, “Let's get him to Orvisan first.”

***

They kept him off the ship, on the beach, Meleko's rifle still aimed at his head. The crew set up a table for him to sit at, and Orvisan stood on a barrel so he could look at the metahuman eye-to-eye. Rosemary joined him, moving so she was beside the captain. She was glaring at Brother Bone. He was glaring back. Now that she could get a good look at him, it was obvious that Brother Bone was haggard. He had lost weight – and he was already a thin man. His hair had been graying, and he had tied it back in a rough ponytail to reveal gaunt cheeks and sunken eyes. It was almost like his skin was stretched taut on his face. He wore an overcoat, grimy and smelling of dried sweat and salt.

“Rosemary,” Orvisan said, “You're saying he was one of the metahumans who was with Sunala?”

“Yeah,” Rosemary said, “Him and his brother.”

Orvisan nodded. He turned to consider Nelthel. The metahuman was quiet.

“Who sent you?” he asked.

“No one,” Bone replied.

“You, what, decided to just 'hang out' on a deserted island?” Orvisan said.

Brother Bone was silent.

“You look like you haven't had a decent meal in a while,” the captain noted, “Do you... want something to eat?”

That got a reaction, subtle as it was. Bone's eyes glinted at the mention of food. The gnome smiled.

“Right,” he said, “Get some bread for our guest.”

Rosemary nodded, moving off. Orvisan would be safe, she hoped, without her immediate presence. Meleko was right there, in case things needed to be ended quickly. She ran over to the Guttersnipe. Most of the crew was watching the proceedings on the beach. Orvisan was continuing to ask Nelthel questions.

“Food,” Rosemary said, “Bread, I guess.”

“You sure?” Meleko said.

“We're playing nice,” Rosemary said, “Guy looks like he's been hit by a train.”

“We can dream,” Meleko said, darkly.

One of the crew handed her a loaf of bread from dinner. She took it, leaping off the ship and into a sprint back to the interrogation. Orvisan was continuing to talk.

“Way I see it,” he was saying, “You're in a rather bad position. You're a fugitive from the law. Scuttleway law. Federation law, too, if I remember right.”

“All metahumans are fugitives, under their laws,” Bone said, “I don't care about being wanted by you. I'm wanted on a dozen other planes, too.”

“Well, then, if things go sour, we have a few places to option you to,” Orvisan said.

Rosemary handed him the bread. Orvisan took it, flipping a dagger out from his sleeve, cutting into the loaf. Brother Bone stared down at it, his eyes watering, his lips quivering.

“I bet you've been eating nothing but rats out here, eh?” Orvisan said, “Well, here's some food for you.”

Brother Bone opened his mouth. The gnome put the bread in. The metahuman chewed. Swallowed.

“There's more, if you tell us who sent you.”

“I'm telling you the truth,” Bone said, “No one sent me. I came here of my own accord.”

“How'd you get out of jail?” Rosemary said.

“Ha!” Bone said, “Jailbreaking is second nature to supervillains like us. You elves think your prisons are so secure. But compared to Prime, they’re nothing. I was out in less than a month.”

“And you... made your way back here?” Orvisan said, “Why?”

At that, Bone went quiet.

“You were going to go back to Chliofrond, weren't you,” Rosemary said.

...The metahuman gave a slow nod.

“For the Shard?”

“For my brother.”

His brother. Spinlock. Brother Brain. He had the power to telekinetically lift anything he could feasibly lift with his own body. Rosemary remembered him as a large, muscular man, jacked up on steroids and other muscle enhancers, in order to maximize his power.

Mallory had kicked him into a field of stopped time. He had been next to the Shard of Imagination itself.

Things were starting to click together. Rosemary's eyes were widening.

“They... they didn't retrieve him, did they?” she said, “He's just... Oh my god.”

“Still in the field,” Bone said, “You remember what happened to your guildmate, the other metahuman? Joseph, I believe, was his name.”

Rosemary nodded. Joseph's eagle had gotten caught in such a field. They littered Chliofrond, the result of a long-dead metahuman's powers. Phineas had needed to get him out, and Joseph had described it as...

Unpleasant.

“They didn't throw him into a jail,” Bone said, “Trust me, I broke into their databases. I've been traveling the multiverse, trying to see where they put him away. And I found out. They didn't at all. They're just keeping him there.”

His voice was dark. Sad. Desperate.

“He's my brother,” he said, breaking down, “How... how dare they do that to him. Keep him like that. I'll kill them. I'll kill them all. Swear on my life.”

Orvisan and Rosemary were quiet. They looked at each other, found a common understanding.

Desperate times called for desperate allies.

The gnome leaned forward.

“Brother Bone,” he said, “That is your metahuman name?”

“It is my name,” he said, “I cast my old one away long ago.”

“Brother Bone,” Orvisan said, nodding, “I believe we have a common enemy.”

Bone blinked. And he looked at Rosemary.

“What,” he said, “Did you finally find out about Sunala's deal? That she's a damn fascist?”

She gave him a guilty look. That was answer enough.

“We've got a Fed with us,” Rosemary said, “For the Shard.”

Bone whistled.

“Well,” he said, “Aren't you playing a dangerous game. You realize if the Feds think funny, your home's as good as glass, right?”

“I do,” Rosemary said, “But you worked with Sunala. You know the alternative.”

Bone simmered, and thought about that.

“...We may very well be siblings in arms, then,” he said, “You're looking for a way to Chliofrond, one that avoids the elves' lookouts?”

Orvisan nodded.

“I've been here longer than you,” he said, “I've been watching them go in and out of the Traveling Point for the last two months. I've got a plan. If you release me, I can... help you.”

“An alliance,” Orvisan said.

“Yes,” Bone said, “I want my brother back. I don't care about the Shard anymore. That was a bungled heist, and I'd prefer greener pastures.”

“...You won't double-cross us?” Rosemary asked.

“What kind of question is that?” Bone said, “I'm a supervillain. There's always a chance I could double-cross you. And your man the Jugdran hates me, there's always a chance you blow out my brains here and now. The trust is in the goal, not in each other.”

He spat to the side.

“So, do we have a deal?”

Orvisan looked at Rosemary.

“He's the one who betrayed you before,” he said, “It's your call.”

Rosemary looked at the metahuman. For a long time. Gauged his face, his reactions. His sincerity. He had always been polite, even when he had turned her inside out.

“...Alright,” she said, “I'm letting you loose.”

The light construct fell away.

“Rosemary!” Meleko called over, “What the fuck!”

Brother Bone rose to his feet.

“You did not just cut a deal with him!” Meleko said, “Come on!”

He rubbed his wrists. Felt where the light had been constricting his arms. He did not smile. Instead, he gave a curt nod.

“Let's get to it, then,” he said.