Noli and Rezira show us below deck, where there’s a shared room and several cots where we’ll be sleeping. Well, where Zyneth will be sleeping. I deposit my meager belongings (and all the extra glass I’ve accumulated) in the trunk by one of the beds. As the women show Zyneth where he can get washed up, I make my way back to the main deck.

I wave to Murrok, who’s still at the helm, and they reply with a stoic nod, seemingly unphased by my appearance. I wonder what Noli’s said about me. What will other people say about me? Will I have to go back to playing the part of a silent servant? Now that I have a voice box, I can at least speak up for myself. But how will people react? Explaining my sentience every time I interact with someone new sounds exhausting.

It’s dusk now, and the sun is scraping the horizon: the first sunset I’ve seen in months. Land cuts a dark shadow beneath the orange sky, and I stand at the bow, taking it all in. It seems so serene. Nothing to indicate the battle that took place just a few hours ago. The people who died.

Surely, people had to have died. We sank three ships. And yes, they attacked us first, and the nereids of the groups were probably fine, but trying to conceive of the lives lost still summons a sickly twist in my soul. It might have been indirect, and it might have been self defense, but I still killed people. How is that any different from what I’ve been trying to stop the predator from doing? I’m a hypocrite.

Feeling my thoughts turn toward it, the predator stirs. Is it time to switch?

Right; it’s almost night. This is usually when I let the predator take control. But can I risk that now? I suppose even if I wanted to suppress it, we both know I can’t hold it at bay all night.

We need to talk first, I think. Reluctantly, I allow myself to think about the nereid whose soul we’d nearly consumed. The predator follows my thoughts to that memory as well.

I can feel its mood sour like a shriveling grape. But its ire isn’t directed at the memory; it’s pointed at me.

What did I do? I ask, baffled. You’re the one who tried to kill that man!

But I stopped it from following through. I stopped it from taking revenge! That puts us at risk. What if the prey had attacked us again, like it had before? We have to protect our soul.

Revenge? I repeat. You understand that wasn’t Gillow, right? It was just someone who looked like them.

The predator wavers, confused. It doesn’t understand. Something is or something isn’t.

That wasn’t Gillow, I clarify. It’s beginning to dawn on me what’s actually going on here. I had been the one to recognize that nereid bore resemblance to Gillow. And while in our fused state, the predator mistook resemblance for recognition, a difference too nuanced for it to grasp. It truly thought that man was Gillow. It saw the nereid as a threat; it was protecting us.

No wonder it’s pissed at me for trying to stop it. It must think I was putting our lives in jeopardy.

Look, I say. You can’t react impulsively to every thought or emotion I have. Sometimes, the first thought I have is wrong.

Yes, I’m well aware of the irony.

The predator is uncertain about this explanation. How can it tell if the things I think are right or wrong? How can it know which way to respond?

Er, you can’t really, I admit. Not in the moment. Sometimes you have to take time to think about things, to make sure they are what they seem. I think about a color-changing fish we came across a week ago that would camouflage itself to be a rock. The predator had attacked several rocks after that, breaking many of our glass teeth before I stopped it to point out the fish couldn’t camouflage its eyes. After that we’d paid closer attention to the rock’s patterns and could distinguish the real rocks from the fish.

The predator counters this by thinking about the sea snake that had darted out of a crevasse and tried to eat us; the predator’s quick reflexes had saved a good portion of our glass and void from getting swallowed and carried away.

Fair point, I admit. Sometimes you have to react without thinking, while other times you have to stop and think.

The predator doesn’t like this. I am telling it two different things at once. Conflicting.

Inconsistent, I agree. Yeah, welcome to the human condition. I don’t have an answer for you. Life’s complicated that way.

The predator finds this entirely unsatisfying.

But I’m kind of reassured by the conversation. I understand why it was so frustrated now. It hadn’t tried to kill that man out of bloodlust—well, not just bloodlust. Maybe it is learning.

You won’t attack Noli and Zyneth. It’s not a question: that’s one thing I’m pretty confident about, or as confident as one can be where it concerns an alien oil-spill with a capacity for empathy that could fit into a thimble.

Yes. It knows they are useful to us.

Important to us, I correct.

The predator does not see the difference. Is this more of my complicated and inconsistent ideas?

Eh. I’ll fight this battle some other day.

What about the other people on this ship? I ask. I instinctively fish for the answer in its mind, which annoys it.

If they present as a threat, it will protect our soul.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

They’re not a threat, I promise.

They do not appear as a threat now. The predator retrieves the rock fish example I’d just used. But if they become a threat, it will devour them.

Okay, I admit, that one’s on me. The predator’s suspicion isn’t even unfounded; we’d spent weeks working with Gillow, only for them to attack us. But I think this is a suspicion I can live with. If it’s willing to be reactive instead of proactive, that’s the best I can hope for. It should keep those around me safe.

Well, safe-ish. So long as no one picks a fight, or does anything else the predator might interpret as a threat—a long list, I’m sure—we’ll be fine. I’m not saying this is a great long term solution, but it’s enough for now. It’s enough that I’m willing to risk setting foot back on land.

I guess that means it’s time to hold up my end of the bargain.

About our… nightly endeavors, I think. I receive the mental equivalent of a blank stare. We were leaving my core behind in the submarine while you went out hunting, because the water pressure would crush it. It was safe on the Prismatic. But while we’re on land, it might be more dangerous to leave it behind.

This much the predator does understand. In fact, it finds it preferable. If it takes the core with us, then it will not be tethered to one location and may roam as far as it pleases.

Oh. Yeah, that’s one consequence I hadn’t considered. I guess it’s too late to take it back now. That would be more ‘inconsistencies’ for the predator to get annoyed with.

The predator wonders if we can take our bones with us, too.

Bones?

It sends me an image of our glass.

You mean my body? They aren’t bones! Well, that’s semantics, really, since I guess they serve the purpose of bones. Yes, fine, we can take those, too. Might as well keep my core safely tucked in my chest, anyway.

The predator grows excited, surging to the forefront of my mind. Now?

“Wait, hold on,” I say. I guess its previous sour mood is gone and forgotten. “I need to speak with the others about this, first.”

The predator doesn’t understand why—there is nothing to talk about. Yet it recedes, just a fraction.

Whew. It’s scary how fast it can flip between hot and cold, but it’s all rational, in a way. Its motives are basic and direct. Somehow, I’m starting to think I can make this work. I can reason with it.

But I won’t let that make me complacent; I might be able to tempt this wolf from the woods with the warmth of fire and the smell of meat, but it’s still feral. Even if I can train it to hunt for me instead of against me, it will never truly be tame.

At least I can try to keep it sated, and for that, I need to let it do its nightly patrols. Noli and Rezira will understand.

Well, Noli will understand.

I turn and make for the crew quarters just as everyone steps out. “Oh,” I sign. “I was about to come find you.”

“Why?” Noli asks. Then her gaze drifts over my shoulders. “Oh! Isn’t that sunset stunning?”

I sign amusement. Leave it to her to find the beauty in every moment. “Yes. But I need to talk to you guys about the agreement with the predator I mentioned before.”

Zyneth is wearing a new shirt, now, which makes me realize how tattered and dirty his previous ones had become. He’s shaved, too, and has run a comb through his hair. With his face scrubbed, the yellow light from his eyes reflects off the gold freckles on his cheeks like a sprinkling of stardust.

At the mention of the predator, Zyneth’s expression darkens. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” I say, tearing my gaze away. I sign and speak for the benefit of all parties present. “It’s fine. In fact, I wanted to assure you all that it doesn’t pose a threat to anyone on this ship.”

Zyneth gives me a skeptical look.

“So long as no one does anything threatening,” I add.

“What does that mean?” Rezira demands.

The predator eyes her harsh tone and tense stance warily.

“It means, I need you to not do that,” I say.

“Do what?” she asks.

I gesture to all of her. “You know. That.”

Her eyes narrow.

“Perhaps we should hear him out,” Zyneth quickly interrupts. “Kanin, what specifically do you mean by threatening?”

“Um… Things like moving quickly, grabbing me unexpectedly, waving weapons around,” I suggest. “Anything that could startle it, really.”

“We’ll be careful,” Noli assures me.

Rezira seems less placated. “It sounds like you’re asking us to walk on eggshells around you.”

“No, just… act normal, is all I’m saying.”

“Yeah,” Rezira says, voice laced with sarcasm. “Real easy to do with a murderous shadow monster around.”

I helplessly hold up my hands. “As long as we don’t get into any more fights, it should all be fine.”

No one looks reassured by this. We do tend to get in a lot of fights.

“What about your hunting sessions?” Zyneth asks.

“That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you all about.” I fidget with a piece of glass, floating it between my fingers. “The agreement still stands. So I’ll be leaving most nights.”

Noli laughs. “Leaving? Where in the world would you go? We’re on a ship!”

Zyneth glances over the railing.

“Really?” Rezira asks, incredulous.

“While it’s holding the reins, I’d much rather us not be anywhere near any of you,” I say.

“I thought you said we’re safe,” Rezira says.

“I did! You are.” I hesitate. “But I’d feel better if there was some distance.”

“Will this plan still work once we get to land?” Zyneth asks.

“It should,” I say. “As long as I stay out of the cities. Or leave at night. Look, I haven’t worked out all the details, but this is the best I can come up with for now.”

But is it enough? Their fears are all founded. How can I guarantee their safety?

Zyneth squeezes my arm, offering me a small, reassuring smile. “I know. This is a lot, and you’re doing admirably.”

The anxiety that had been building within me deflates. “Thank you.”

Noli unsuccessfully hides a giddy grin behind splayed fingers. Rezira eyes Zyneth’s hand with a smirk.

“Okay I can’t take it!” Noli cries. “Are you two an item?”

If it weren’t for my glass, I would have puddled to the floor and sunk beneath the floorboards. Zyneth’s face turns an even darker shade of red. He quickly pulls his hand away.

“Um,” I sign intelligently.

Zyneth is equally flustered. “We, ah, have not put a precise label on our relationship—which it may or may not be.”

“Really?” Rezira says. “Because it seems like…”

“We’ve had a lot going on,” I blurt. “I was going home, then then I wasn’t, and then there was all the focus on just trying to survive—”

“All that time stuck together!” Noli exclaims. “Surely you must have talked about it at some point?”

“We have,” Zyneth says, looking pointedly at some very interesting patch of wood directly to Noli and Rezira’s left. “In Miasmere we spoke about… potential interests.”

“Miasmere?” Rezira scoffs.

Noli appears horrified. “You mean the last time you spoke about your feelings was over two months ago?”

Rezira shakes her head. “By that point Noli had already proposed to me.”

“Okay!” I spin around and make straight for the railing. I shrug off my coat and kick off my boots as I walk, not even bothering to take them below deck. “Good talk. See you in the morning!”

Thanks to my omni vision, I can still make out Zyneth’s mortified expression as I hand control over to the predator and jump off the ship.