Seabirds cried overhead, riding on a cold wind that rose off the sea and cut through the plaza, churning the grass among the memorial stones. Amo’s ochre eyes held Indirk’s as surely as though Amo had pulled a knife on her, though Amo stood still with their hands at their sides. “We can both walk out of this plaza alive and never see each other again. You just need to promise that you aren’t going to get in my way. I’ll believe you.”
Indirk stared, eyes wide and disbelieving. Suddenly, this didn’t sound like Amo anymore, and by her gaze it was like she wasn’t even sure this was Amo that she was looking at. Or maybe she was doubting what she knew of Amo, if perhaps she’d never understood them. Amo held a steady, unflinching gaze, but their eyes were suddenly difficult to see.
Their features had become vague and indistinct, this old friend transformed into a mystery, some anonymous dark figure with hands and arms relaxed at their sides. “Indirk,” said the dark one who knew her name, “There’s a time limit on your answer. I need it from you now.”
“Amo… you are…” Indirk didn’t know what she was saying. She could barely feel herself speaking, and strange thoughts moved in amorphous silence in her head, notions beyond language simmering like smoke inside her skull, struggling to take form. Was it really so wrong, after all this time, after all she’d given, to try to catch just a brief glimpse of simple peace at the tail of her fast-fleeing life?
It couldn’t be. All policy aside, all confusion aside, this was Amo. This had to be a bluff. It had to be. Amo wouldn’t hurt her. But Indirk couldn’t let herself be stopped.
“Amo, you’re the last one,” Indirk said, “You’re the last thing in my way.”
Amo’s fingers twitched, the smallest sign of surprise. “What do you mean?”
“For everything Pharaul’s forced my life to be, I hate it, but I’ve left Pharaul behind. Gray Watch was my enemy, but I’ve tamed it. I’ve made the Writhe my ally, made my own place in the Admiralty, found a bed to sleep in and maybe, stupid as it sounds, even someone to keep it warm.” Indirk took a breath, rolled her shoulders, and with some effort managed to square herself off toward Amo. “If you’re going to make me choose between Gray Watch and Pharaul…”
“Choose me, damn it!” Amo snapped, shaking their head. “Don’t make yourself my enemy. Please.”
All Indirk wanted to be was a mundane person, without enemies or ambitions, but Amo wouldn’t understand that. “That’s up to you. Amo, I love you so much, but you’re the last one between me and the life I want. Everything else is moving into place, but you aren’t moving. So, if I need to, I’ll move you.” If she needed to force this, then that’s what she’d do, reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out her gun. She didn’t point it anywhere, but she lifted the pistol beside her, to show it to Amo. “You are the last enemy I will ever have. This is my last fight. We can both walk out of here alive, but only if you promise me that I’ll never see you again. Either do what you said and try to stop me, or let me go and walk away.
* * *
Mardo listened to the Guardian Lion’s song on the wind, sweeping through the streets near the Admiralty offices swiftly. He was moving toward the sea, and he frowned at that. What was Hado doing all the way out here? Hado was meant to have stayed with Indirk, and Indirk was meant to have stayed…
“Calm down and tell me what you heard,” a Watch officer was saying, in a gentle tone. He was one of four officers, this one on one knee to speak to a number of children that shifted in anxious fear.
“At the stones,” a girl was pointing eastward. “There was a scary woman and someone in black. I don’t know what they were saying but-“
Another of the children erupted, “They were gonna fight! She’s got claws!”
Mardo stood still, listening to the Watch officers and the children, looking at where the kids were pointing. That was the direction Hado’s quiet song had been indicating. Briefly, Mardo struggled between the want to move cautiously and the want to take off running. But he had never been much for running. So he paced carefully toward the Watch officers, listening to their exchange with the children. One of the officers noticed Mardo’s approach, but noted his admiralty uniform, so they just nodded at one another in silence.
* * *
There came a growl from behind Amo, in the shadow of a stone. Indirk looked toward it and saw a flash of reflective eyes just before the shadow moved, lunging toward Amo, and Indirk shouted, “No! Hado, don’t!”
Faster than Indirk could see, Amo snapped sideways away from the surging Guardian Lion, one sleek dark figure ducking out from the passage of another. Hado’s teeth snapped at empty air, claws cutting into stone as he landed and turned. With a flash of steel, Amo held a knife in each hand, and they crouched waiting for the great cat to pounce again. Hado didn’t wait, lunging again the instant he had the footing to do so.
“Shit!” Indirk’s gun lifted on instinct, watching these narrow, dark figures bare their claws at one another. Fur and leather, fang and knife, lion and anthral. Indirk bit down hard, her sharp teeth crookedly carving into her lower lip so blood bloomed upon her chin. She strained to keep her finger from pulling the trigger, watching with disconnected terror as her aim moved from one figure to another. It was almost like her body was trying to force a decision on her, but couldn’t decide which.
Indirk watched Hado tumble and snarl, carving at the ground as Amo scrambled across the ground and spat curses. She aimed at Hado to protect Amo. But then Amo’s blades flashed and Hado let out a high snarl. Red fluid spilled on the stone. As Hado circled away, Indirk aimed at Amo, to protect Hado from them. Could she really shoot at Amo? Could she really shoot Hado?
* * *
As Mardo stood silently listening to the girl describe a small, thin littorn antrhal dressed all in black, there came a sudden, thunderous crack on the air, echoing between the buildings. It rang out twice, scattering the birds, making the children shout and flinch. One of the Watch officers looked at the others and said, “What was that?”
And Mardo muttered gravely, “That was gunfire.”
* * *
Indirk dropped her gun to the ground, staring, whispering. “No. That wasn’t… what I meant…” She struggled to breathe, illness churning in her gut. Shadows encroached at the corners of her vision, and she stumbled drunkenly, falling to her hands and knees. “That was wrong. It’s wrong. The fuck did I just do?”
