It was four in the morning before I got home. It was still pitch black, and eerily quiet; I might’ve been out of my robe by the time I arrived but my enhanced senses were firmly intact and I had to strain just to pick out the snoring of dozens of men, women and children. It was strange, seeing Mud Lane with its big grey floating pavilions, filled with those who’d lost their homes, knowing I was responsible. I couldn’t help but feel proud. I’d made a difference. Not enough of one, perhaps, but enough to save some lives. I wouldn’t approach any of them as Feychilde, risk my identity. Sure, it would’ve been nice to get to feel some of their gratitude, but putting Jaid and Jaroan’s lives on the line just to ask some questions would ultimately be a selfish act, and a stupid one.

I made my way through the mud between the rows of tents that hovered a foot above the ground, wishing I could just use my wings and hover along with them for once. The sludge was particularly thin and sloppy this morning, what with the off-and-on rain of the previous evening, and despite partaking in several pitched battles I’d gone the whole night without getting half as dirty as I had in the last two minutes. Okay, so I had dried blood in my hair and all over my torso – perhaps something more than a quick wash would be needed… I was exceedingly pleased to reach the stairs leading up to the walkways.

Just a few footsteps from home.

At the end of the activities Killstop had surmised there were at least four more vampires out there somewhere, not counting others that could’ve been created in the meantime. When it came to the ghouls it was anybody’s guess. We’d had no reports of other attacks – but they’d surely arrive by the morning, once people started finding the husks of the victims.

I opened the door to the apartment into darkness. I could hear Orstrum’s breathing and, as I turned back to close the door behind me, by instinct I searched for the twins’ breathing –

Another. Here, in the room with me and Orstrum. Awake. Alert.

A thousand horrible thoughts flashed through my mind.

Zel. Wakey wakey.

“Can we take this outside?” I asked quietly.

“I’d prefer that,” Duskdown replied, casually unfolding himself from behind the furniture in the main room, striding across towards me. It was actually frightening, seeing the killing-machine, tall, hooded, masked, just walking randomly across my apartment floor.

“Him again?” my passenger muttered. “I’m getting no danger sense.”

I let him pass me in the doorway so that I could shut it to behind us, and he moved at an ordinary pace, stepping right though my shield without it so much as trembling.

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I guess that answers that one.

Once we were at the walkway’s rail, looking out over the tents below us, I said, “You’ve got to stop watching out for me, Duskdown. Once is a freak bit of providence but twice would become a pattern. They’re gonna think I know you, and –“

He chuckled dryly. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, my young friend. I like what you’ve done with the place.” He gestured at the lane, a motion of his wrist so smooth and practised that he could’ve been slitting a throat. “You’re pretty much everything I hoped you would be. Thank you for holding up your end of the bargain.”

“You mean, not trying to arrest you? Because you’re just so arrestable…”

He laughed softly again. “Whatever your reasons, I’m glad. We have a ways to go together, you and I.”

“What do you mean?”

He just shook his head, still gazing down at the tents.

I could summon a demon, or ten… I felt in fine shape. Probably the best shape I’d ever be in, with this kind of opportunity. He was so close to me that the moment he realised what was happening he’d be thrown away from me, surrounded by my own killing-machines…

“Kas…”

But I knew it was futile. Killstop’s explanation of his power… He’d ensured that I knew he was fast even to an arch-diviner. He might have even been able to kill me before my shield triggered on his ill-will, react automatically the moment before I made a decision…

“What are you thinking?” I asked, my throat suddenly dry. “Can you… sense the people down there?”

“Their futures? You’re wondering if I’m planning on ending any lives tonight?”

I gritted my teeth and said nothing.

I would try to mask the invoking gesture in a wave of my arm –

“No, not one. Not… here.” He sighed and gripped the rail tight with both hands. “You must think I enjoy my life. You might understand, one day.”

I slowly shook my head. “I don’t want to.”

He chuckled again, humourlessly. “Do any of us?”

“You smiled tonight. When you –“

He regarded me in silence, and it was my turn to flounder for words.

He smiled, when he was saving my life… That hardly sounds like an accusation…

“Or perhaps you understand better than I thought.” He sighed again, looking back down into the lane. “I pity you, Mr. Mortenn. May the tides of time shape you into a less-cruel instrument than I!”

He was staring at me again, an instantaneous change achieved without the interim stage of turning his head.

I met the gaze behind the mask, the inscrutable eyes of the arch-arch-diviner –

Then they were only an after-image; he was gone, twice as quickly as he’d moved when leaving my bedroom last week.

I stood at the rail for some time, the dark wind in my face, listening to the snores rising up from below, the murmured voices of those who’d awoken too early. I could even pick out Jaid and Jaroan, breathing softly. Safe.

The range, the precision on my senses was improving.

“It’s about time,” Zel said. “Don’t think this means you don’t have to wake me up, though, you hear me? You need me.”

I know, Zel. I need you.

I listened to their snoring, and I wondered about those he would kill before the dawn. Did they have families too? Those who waited for them to return and would be left waiting forever?

Did he really know what he was doing?

When I started to shiver I went inside, crawled into my bed without undressing or cleaning myself, and pulled the covers over my head, praying for the sweet non-existence of sleep that had eluded me when I hung from the vampire-lord’s hand by my exposed ribcage.

But to come to Yune’s peaceful shore one first had to cross the darkness of Mekesta’s ocean, where the dreams of Belestae’s making drifted upon the waves; and on those turbulent, bottomless seas I found no respite tonight.