It was the next day when Gad got back to me with my first assignment. He didn’t have that “list” he had mentioned, only one thing he wanted me to do first. “I’ll get the rest of the list ready later,” he said. “But this is the most straightforward item by far, you understand.

“The list will not be simple,” he warned me. “It will require you to figure things out, things I have not had time for. It will be your shop, after all. You run things, and if it works, we both profit, and if you can’t make it work, that’s on you. I’m repaying my debt to you with an opportunity, not a job. Well, this first task is a little like a job. Bear with it.”

The vagueness surrounding all of it - the task, the list, the “opportunity” - made me suspicious. It reminded me of Dimen-X, hiding information, changing the terms of contracts, taking advantage of my ignorance. It made my blood boil to think of it. Naomi may have been collared by me, for a time, but Dimen-X had its greedy hands around my neck at all times. If I ever actually pushed back against them, they could always just leave me behind.

But I now knew something Dimen-X didn’t, had plans they couldn’t have seen or overheard, and that thought made me grin randomly throughout the day whenever it crossed my mind. Gad, too, didn’t know my intentions. He thought I was looking to sell potions to the local population in Harfin. That I would run his store. He had no idea the scope of my planned operation.

There would be two lists. His, and mine - though, of course, mine existed now only in my mind, since I’d burned it.

So I smiled and nodded and took the little note he handed me. It held directions to a river-side building in town where I was meant to meet someone.

First I had to talk to my companions. They knew nothing of my plans, either, but I intended to tell them, at least a few choice bits. They couldn’t know everything, of course.

Their rooms weren’t far from mine. I walked the corridors back from Gad towards our quarters, took a corner sharply without looking, and bumped straight into Naomi - who I had not wanted to see. She let out a little scream as we bounced off of each other and onto the floor.

“Like, watch where you’re going, yeah?” she said, slowly standing, rubbing the parts of her backside she had landed on. She was still wearing that stupid golden dress.

“I could say the same to you.”

She glared at me for a moment as if deciding how to respond, then sighed. “I’ll let that slide,” she said. “I was looking for you.”

I grinned in a way I hoped was infuriating. “Miss me already?”

The glare was back. Then she looked away and started to brush past me, which was more or less mission accomplished in my eyes. “Never mind. I should have known better.”

There was something in her face, though - caught in my periphery as she passed - that made me reconsider. So despite the fact that I had intended to anger her so she would leave me alone, I ended up stopping her.

“Wait,” I said, turning to follow her. “Sorry. What is it?”

She turned back. “You’ll take this seriously?” she asked.

“Sure. Yeah, I will.”

She kept staring for a bit, then nodded. “OK. But not here. Your room is nearby, yeah? We’ll talk on the balcony.”

Is she afraid of being listened in on? I thought. By who? Her own family?

I almost laughed at her precaution, considering that a machine from another dimension was hearing her every word, but I kept that to myself.

Just before she opened the door to my suite, I realized what it would look like and tried too late to stop her. She paused in the open doorway for a moment.

“What the fuck did you do in here?” she asked, her gaze passing over scorch marks and ashes and ruined pillows.

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“It’s complicated,” I said.

To my surprise, she laughed. “Hell, I don’t care. You do you.”

She navigated the debris towards the balcony. She stopped for a moment to eye suspiciously the balcony table, now sitting just inside the open doors, but said nothing about it. I followed her out, and she shut the glass doors behind us.

The day was cool, not so chilly as it had been when we arrived. But the approaching winter was almost palpable even in its absence. The last warm hurrah of autumn signified cold winter in the same way the last wailing of the living signifies death. One is the shadow of the other.

Coernet, as before, laid sprawled out beneath us. Naomi peered out at the people below as we talked.

“What did you want to tell me?” I asked, hoping this would be quick. I didn’t want to be late on my first assignment.

“I have information,” she began, and then seemed to chuckle to herself. “That sounds so like, dramatic.”

“Just get to the point,” I said, and then, when she looked up at me with anger on her face, added, “respectfully.”

“You should leave.”

I snorted. “Naomi, you brought me here. And it’s my balcony. If you don’t want to talk anymore then you should leave.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean this city. Coernet. You should leave.”

“If this is part of your plan to get us to be friends again, you should probably rethink your strategy.”

“No, I mean,” she looked out at the curving arteries of Coernet. “You shouldn’t be here. It isn’t right for you.”

“How so?”

“Youre… fragile.”

“Excuse me?”

“Maybe that isn’t the right word. I don’t know, like…”

“First a dog,” I muttered. “Now fragile. Maybe there’s a reason you don’t have friends Naomi. A fragile dog.”

“Exactly!” she said, seemingly ignoring what I had said about friends. “A fragile dog. Like one of those little dogs, y’know? The ones that can’t really hunt, or herd livestock, or guard anything, but they bark and snarl and bite and it works, right? Like, people leave the dog alone, because they think they’ll get bitten, and they fear the little dog even more than the big one. Because the little dog thinks it’s a big dog, y’know?

“But then, some day, the little dog picks a fight with a big dog, and the big dog actually fights back. Then what?”

“The little dog lights the big dog on fire,” I answered.

“No,” Naomi said. “The little dog dies.”

“I have never met someone as insulting as you in my life.” I said. “And the crazy part is, I think half the time, you aren’t even trying to do it.”

“It’s just an analogy,” she said.

“Well enough with analogies. What are you saying, Coernet is that dangerous? You’ve never even been here before.”

“No, but I’ve been on the Edge. I’ve seen what it does to people.”

“As in, kill them?”

“Well yeah, mostly.”

“Naomi. Who do you think you’re talking to? You remember that I saved you from that dungeon, right? If I can’t survive here, how the hell do you expect to?”

She hung her head slightly. “That’s different.”

I sighed. “Does being vague and unhelpful run in the family, or what? You and Amaia must be related as well, now that I think about it. Or maybe she’s rubbing off on you.”

“I’m trying to help,” she said, and she looked up at me and met my eyes. The look on her face really made me think she might be - I would have walked away, otherwise.

“Then what the hell are you talking about?” I asked. “The townspeople survive here just fine. Your family lives here. How the hell am I in any more danger than anyone else?”

Naomi stared at me. Her eyes were swimming like she was about to cry, but obviously that wasn’t right. She was a complete mystery to me at that moment, but then again, women almost always were. I can manipulate women, I thought to myself, but I can never understand them.

“Just don’t, like…” she faltered for a moment, clearly searching for the words. “Don’t lose yourself, yeah? Just because you’re wearing that necklace or whatever doesn’t mean the Edge can’t turn you into a monster.”

She touched her hand to her neck as she said this, fiddling with her chocker-necklace, and I think that is what finally clued me in.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Finally I understood what was going on. Something had clicked in my head, and I realized I must have been acting like a movie character without even thinking of it. I was so used to playing someone else that even when I stopped being Tom, my body mimicked out of pure habit. I manipulated her on accident. The thought was dangerously funny.

“Hey,” Naomi said, confused but quickly approaching anger - she was never far from being offended. “What are you laughing at?”

In between laughs I tried to answer, although mostly the answer was spoken to myself. “You would think women would be different here,” I got out, “But they are still as predictable as ever. Why do they always fall for the bad boys?”

If we really were in a movie, this would be the part where Naomi turned beet-red, called me a name, and stomped off - movie language for “I love you,” at least in the right kind of movie. Depending on the movie, I’d maybe even follow after her, grab her arm and, while she was huffing and puffing, yelling “let go of me!” or something like that, I’d kiss her, the tension would drain from her body, and within moments we’d be wriggling around on the nearest piece of furniture like a couple of animals.

Is that what I want? I thought to myself. My mimicry was always more conscious before, more self-directed, even if it was pushed one way or the other by those foreign voices in my head. But this was more like one of those voices had worked without even consulting me. But that isn’t right either - I did this, though I hadn’t done so consciously. So it must be what I want, right?

That proved to be a harder question that you might think. Ask me what Tom wants, or what my Mom wants, even what Dimen-X wants, and there’d be no hesitation. But what I wanted? Money, for certain. Except, well, I really only wanted the money because my debtors wanted the money.

I remembered the photograph I’d made, the one with the house and the field. That’s it. That, and punching Tom in the face. That’s what I want.

I smiled, feeling quite internally resolved, for a moment, only to realize that Naomi had broken script. I was standing alone on the balcony.

She hadn’t even made a scene. Just left.

“Maybe she’s not into me,” I said to myself.

“But if she isn’t,” I responded. “Then what? She’s actually afraid you’re going to turn into a monster?

“Of course she is, Miles. You put a fucking death collar around her throat. You come across as a fucking maniac.

“Am I a maniac?

“No. I mean, maybe. You might be, Miles, a little bit. But the world would make anyone crazy, when it fucks them like it’s fucked you. You deserve to be a little crazy. You’re just getting back at the people who have wronged you. She’s scared because she betrayed you, and she’s not sure if she can make it up to you or not.

“He’s right. That makes perfect sense.

“I know this is new to you, Miles, but just focus on taking what you want. Don’t worry about other people so much! That’s what got you into this mess in the first place. Just take, Miles. Take and burn and get even. That’s what you want, after all.

“Sure, yeah.” I nodded. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.

“Of course I am, Miles. I’m you. I know you better than anyone.