It was a somewhat bright night, but the canopy of trees meant the moon’s light only made it through in scattered small bits, creating numerous shadows in every direction. Quilla and Annai sat huddled together, trying to keep warm. They had shelter from the the wind, but it was still bitterly cold, and they couldn’t risk a fire.

  They had run until they could run no more, and then they had run a little farther until they found shelter. It was the trunk of a fallen tree. Some previous animal, or perhaps just natural decay, had carved out much of the interior, leaving just enough room to sit in and huddle side by side. The tree’s snow-covered, dead roots hung over like a canopy, providing just a little more shelter from the wind, and making it a little more difficult to tell anyone was hiding within.

  At least, it would, if there wasn’t an obvious trail leading right up to it.

  Quilla had no idea how Vern was going to misdirect the Volgs. Their trail—from Ookpick’s home all the way here—was obvious. There hadn’t been any way to hide it without moving slowly. Even if they had slowed down, Quilla wasn’t sure it would have been possible. She understood that Vern’s plan was to misdirect them with a false trail, but even if the false trail was “more recent”, surely it would be obvious that it was only more recent by a very small margin. At best, the Volgs were likely to think they had split up, and follow both trails.

  Still, they hadn’t been found yet, and it had been hours, so maybe whatever Vern had done had worked.

  But, in that case, where was Vern?

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Annai said.

  Quilla grunted, “Really?”

  “Yes, why wouldn’t she be? She’s...she’s very competent.”

  “So was Gabby, and you gave up on her pretty quickly.”

  “No I didn’t! I…” Annai lowered her head and whimpered. “I did, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I just… Fine, you’re right. Vern’s probably dead. I was just trying to be comforting.”

  Quilla blinked away a couple tears and nodded. “I know, and I appreciate it.”

  “I still can’t believe you slept with her,” Annai said.

  Quilla couldn’t help chuckling a little. There hadn’t been much to do huddling here for hours, other than take turns sleeping, and—as that didn’t work well for either of them—talk. So Quilla had told Annai about last night. It was something she’d learn eventually if it kept up. Quilla didn’t really have any reason to believe it would continue, but she did find herself wanting it to. At the very least, she wanted Vern to still be alive.

  “Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Annai continued. “You were so into her, right from the start.”

  Quilla stared at her. “What? I was not! I hated her at first.”

  “Yes, you did, and you also wanted her.”

  “I did not!”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do say so.” She hadn’t, had she? She had kind of taken to her, she supposed. And she had grown to like and trust her faster than had probably been wise. Was that because she’d been attracted to her the entire time? “At the very least, I didn’t want her as much as you wanted Jakka.”

  Annai gasped and pulled away from Quilla as much as the limited space would allow. “How dare you suggest such a thing!” But there was a smile on her face.

  Quilla stuck her tongue out at her, and Annai laughed.

  Annai huddled back in close again. “Is it wrong that I kind of wanted to sleep with him?”

  Quilla shook her head. “No, not at all.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be very honoured if he’s still alive.”

  Annai shrieked as Vern dropped down from the overhanging roots.

  “You...you scared the shit out of me!” Annai said.

  “Sorry about that,” Vern said. “Sometimes I get so used to hiding and sneaking, I forget to warn the people I’m not hiding from.”

  Quilla climbed out of the tree trunk and threw her arms around Vern, pulling her in tight.

  Vern grunted. “Careful. I’m a little sore in places.”

  Quilla released her grip only a little and buried her head in Vern’s shoulder. “I thought you were dead.”

  Vern put her arms around Quilla. “I almost was.”

  “What happened to your arm?” Annai asked.

  Quilla let go and backed away from Vern a little to get a better view of her.

  “Like I said, I was almost dead. I might have taken a few injuries.” She grimaced. The right sleeve of her parka was shredded and cloth now stained red was wrapped around her upper arm. She stumbled a little and reached out with her left hand to a root for support.

  Quilla stepped back up to her, putting one arm around her for support. “Let me see that.”

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  With another grimace, Vern shook her head. “Later. We need to get the fuck out of here. I could only delay them so long.”

  “Delay them?” Quilla said. “I thought you were sending them down a false trail.”

  “Yeah, and that’ll delay them, but not forever.”

  Vern wasn’t looking at her, so Quilla placed her free hand on Vern’s cheek and turned her head to look her in the eyes. “And you got beat up doing that? You let them see you?”

  “Not exactly. Sometimes things don’t go according to plan, okay?”

  Quilla gave her a sad smile. “Fair.”

  “How did you get away?” Annai asked. She had come out of the tree trunk and was standing beside the two of them now.

  Vern grimaced again, though Quilla was fairly certain this time it wasn’t from pain, especially as she pulled away from the hand on her cheek and looked away.. “I...uh...had to make a deal with Ofstakim.”

  “Who?” Quilla asked, though she had a good idea what the answer was going to be.

  Vern looked back at her. “The Volg. The big one I warned you about.”

  Quilla helped Vern sit down, then crossed her arms as she stood over her. “You know him, don’t you?”

  Vern stared at the ground and nodded. “We’ve met. More than a few times.” She looked up at Quilla. “Look, I’ll tell you all about it later, okay? I promise. But right now, we really have to get moving. Just as soon as I’ve caught my breath.”

  “What was the deal?” Quilla asked.

  “I have no intention of keeping it.”

  “What was it?” Quilla repeated more intensely.

  “I promised to turn you over to him. That’s the only way I got away from him alive. But you know I won’t really do that, right? You trust me?”

  Quilla stared at her a moment, but then nodded. “Yeah, I trust you. So what do we do? How do we stay away from them.”

  Vern looked down at the ground again. “To be honest, I’m not sure. In the short term, we get somewhere I can give you the tattoo as soon as possible. And I’ve had a crazy idea. I have no idea if it’ll work, but…” She looked up at Annai.

  Annai looked blankly back at her. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

  “You’re not going to like this,” Vern said.

  “What?” Annai said. “Tell me!”

  “You need to get the tattoo too.”

  Annai backed away from her. “No. No way. It’s bad enough Quilla has to get it. I am not sullying myself with that disgusting—”

  “Do you want to live?”

  Annai glared down at her. “Of course I do.”

  “Then get the fucking tattoo. If you don’t, you die for sure. Get it and maybe I can keep you alive.”

  “What are you getting at?” Quilla asked. This was the same kind of language Vern had used to convince Quilla to get the tattoo, but that was for the bonding that would come after.

  Vern looked up at Quilla. “I have no idea if it’ll work, but… I told you the bonding would likely be different with you, right?”

  Quilla nodded.

  “I don’t know exactly how your powers will affect things. I just sense they will somehow.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why Annai—”

  “I’m going to try bonding both of you, all right?”

  She could do that?

  “You...you can do that?” Annai asked.

  Vern lowered her head again and sighed. “I don’t really know. Everything I know about my abilities, I’ve had to find out through trial and error. When you go through these rituals that Servants undertake, and you survive, you never know what you’ll end up with. There’s nobody who can train you. I’ve never tried to bond two people at the same time before. With most people, I don’t think it would be possible. I think it would be too much of a strain.” She looked up expectantly at Quilla. “But your powers might make it possible. I can’t promise anything, but it’s the only idea I have.” She looked to Annai. “So unless you’ve got a better one, get the fucking tattoo.”

  Annai put a hand to her face and whimpered. She looked to Quilla.

  Quilla sighed. She hated to do this, but assuming it would work, Vern was right. “I’m sorry, Annai. I think you should do it.”

  “But I’m not a Darker! I don’t want to be one!”

  “Just because you have the tattoo doesn’t mean you have to be a Darker,” Vern said. “For fuck’s sake, I’ve been over this countless times with Quilla. You don’t have to fucking believe!”

  Annai had both hands over her mouth and nose now as she sniffled, and tears formed in her eyes. “Is she right?”

  Ookpik’s warning ran through Quilla’s head. The Lord of Darkness is real, and his symbols have power. Let that power in you, and there will be no turning back. She should tell Annai, let her have as much information as possible to make a decision. But with that information, Annai would certainly decide against getting the tattoo, and she needed to get it. There wasn’t any other option. “I’m getting one and I’m not a Darker, and I have no intention of becoming one. You know that. Please, Annai, you have to do it. I don’t want to run forever, and this is the only way to fight back.”

  Tears were streaming down Annai’s face now, but she nodded. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

  Vern pulled herself to her feet. “Good. Now let’s get the fuck out of here and find some place we can hole up for a couple days.”

  Quilla put a hand on Vern’s shoulder. “Where we’ll deal with your wounds as well as the tattoo.”

  Vern blew her a kiss. “Of course. I don’t want to die either. Come on, let’s move.”

  Quilla held back a moment as Vern headed out into the snowy woods, followed by a sobbing Annai.

  Ookpik had to be wrong, right? The tattoo was just a tattoo. It didn’t corrupt people. People corrupted themselves.

  Right?

  If Ookpik was right, Quilla was risking corruption herself, never mind Annai. So Ookpik had to be wrong. She simply had to be.

  I’m sorry, Annai.

  She picked up her bags and followed after the others.

  Gods forgive her.

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