“The curse has him,” said Remy softly, still crouched over her, his muscles compressed, his eyes fixed on the wild-eyed Thunder King. Galbaric still had one hand to his head, but his eyes glowed like no human eyes could, and his mouth twisted with pain and rage. His other hand flexed, with talon-like nails

Dizzily, Ainsel tried to reground herself. The curse. He’d come for his coat, which made no sense, but the curse had him. She whispered, “Can I help him?”

Moving slowly, Remy shifted so that she could sit up. “Hey, big guy. If you settle down, we can help with that headache.”

“Fuck off,” growled Galbaric. “I want my coat.” He glared balefully at Ainsel. “Where the hell is it?”

Remy gave Ainsel a little nod and she carefully rose to her feet and took a step toward Galbaric. “I took it off on the way here. It wanted to go home to you.”

This did not seem to improve Galbaric’s mood. “If that’s the case, then where is it?” When Ainsel timidly took another step toward him, he scowled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I want to help you with the curse,” said Ainsel, reaching out a hand even though she was still several yards away.

Galbaric made an angry, dismissive gesture. “I don’t have any curse. This is your fault for running off with my coat.”

Remy moved toward Galbaric from a different angle, just as slowly but far less timidly. “Sure. No curse. Just a headache and rage and dreams of violence.”

Sneering, Galbaric said, “I’m a Thunder King. I’m not subject to any petty curse. I won’t fall for any of your lies, either.”

With a low whistle, Remy said, “Paranoia already. It’s hitting you fast, too.” He stretched, elaborately casual. “It helps to have somebody around you trust, I suppose. Who do you trust?”

“No one,” snapped the dragon. “And before you make a spring for me, let me remind you that I defeated you with barely more than one hand ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but can you do it again? I don’t think so. It’s something about the curse: the way it gnaws at you, the way it keeps throwing up visions of hurting those you love… do you have anybody like that, big guy?”

Galbaric visibly winced, and then looked around, a sneer once again curling his lip. “So this is the Middle World. What an utterly depressing place. Is it all these tiny trees? I hope not. My coat is somewhere around here.”

Ainsel watched him, how he swayed a little, but neither attacked nor retreated. She remembered the little kindnesses she’d noticed from him. “I can help, you know. This isn’t like… whatever you’ve experienced before. Whatever makes you be kind to the broken at Bone Station.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me recovering my coat won’t fix.” He spoke rapidly, his breath shallow, and she wondered if he too would turn into some sort of monster when pushed too far. Then she remembered Remy in the girl’s restroom at school. What would have happened then if she’d had the courage to follow her instincts? What would have happened after? Could she have stopped all of this before it really began?

“You can’t reason with the curse,” said Remy, still watching Galbaric like the Thunder Lord was prey.

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Ainsel looked at him. “You were kind of reasonable. Would you have let me touch you before?”

Remy’s gaze snapped to her. “Yes. But I wanted what you represented and that made me… confused.” The way he looked at her made a shiver run down her spine.

Galbaric’s harsh laugh cut through her feelings. “What did she represent to you, boy?”

“Freedom from the curse,” said Remy, with a little laugh.

“Well, to me she just represents somebody who tried to steal my command and did steal my coat.” Once again Galbaric swayed, the flaring of his eyes brightening.

Ainsel decided she was going to help him, whether he liked it or not. He didn’t deserve this after his attempt to help her. So much could have gone so differently, with somebody else ruling Bone Station.

“Maybe I’ve still got it,” she told him. “Maybe I’ve just hidden it under my skin. If you touch me, you can figure that out, right?”

“Very cunning,” said Galbaric, surveying her. “Now you’re trying to steal my will, too. Far world siren.”

She looked him up and down skeptically, all 7+ feet of him. “How can I hurt you?” Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Remy’s posture change. He was still watchful and ready to move, but something in his shoulders reminded her of when he’d been helping her cook. He believed in her.

Galbaric’s nostrils flared. “I don’t particularly care to find out which of many historically documented ways you could inconvenience me. Why do you smell so good, cooking girl?”

“Uh,” said Ainsel, stilling. “How do I smell?”

“Delicious.” He stared at her, sparks flaring off him as a charge lifted her hair, and she remembered Remy saying the same thing to her in class. She remembered, too, Remy nuzzling her neck just a few minutes ago.

Her heart pounding, she took another step toward Galbaric, the fine hairs on her arms lifting up. “Probably because I am. I did bake all those pies.”

“Yes, you did,” he agreed, watching her narrowly. “I enjoyed those.” He spoke absently, watching as she took yet another step forward. “Not very filling, though. More of an appetizer. I’m hungrier now.”

“You can’t eat me without touching me first,” she pointed out.

He snorted. “I’m not going to eat you until after you return my coat, no matter how good you smell.”

The Thunder King stood within arm’s reach now, but Ainsel didn’t reach out again.Instead she looked up at him. He really was enormous and it made her wonder about the other form she suspected he had. She’d probably be two mouthfuls for that.

Nastily, he said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Ainsel smiled up at Galbaric and held out her hand. He blinked and stared down at her, his scowl fading momentarily.

Then his brows drew together and he warned, “If you do anything strange, I’ll change my mind about eating you,” and engulfed her small hand with his.

His skin was so hot it seemed at first to be burning. But Ainsel wasted no time before invoking her power. The healing magic flowed between them and something of his own energies buzzed against her skin. She could feel the curse, feeding on him until she touched it and then retreating into darkness, and she could feel something else, too: a great wound, like something torn from him.

Tentatively she trickled some of her power into it and sensed how deep the cavity ran. It was enormous, a crater. And yet, she wondered if, applied properly, her power could fill it.

No. Galbaric’s silent whisper flooded her body like a physical blow. A moment later he’d released her hand and taken a handful of her long, loose hair instead. “Stop that. You can’t replace my coat that way.”

She peeked up at him and saw the flaring of his eyes had all but vanished. The timbre of his voice had changed, too. He met her gaze only briefly before looking around the forest once again. “Far Worlders really are trouble. I should have sent you off just like Steel said, and then my enemies could be dealing with your siren manipulations.” He shook her hair almost idly, tugging on her scalp.

“Um,” she said, and then stopped.

Remy stood up from where he’d crouched. “Hey, big guy. If you’re feeling better, you can let go of her.”

Galbaric snorted. “I feel fine. I felt fine before, too, but she does… help clarify things. And I’m not letting her get away from me until I get my coat back. At which point I have to go back to Shell and deal with the monster you unleashed, pup.” And then, in response to something in Remy’s face, he added, “Oh, don’t be an idiot. You’re not going to hurt her and I’m not going to hurt her. She’s got two hands, even if they are child-sized. We can—”

“No,” said Remy, tensely. “I can smell— Danui’s coming this way. With Zoë. And a Night Master.”