Far from the broken beach where the survivors gathered, beyond the reach of frightened voices and Council signals, the sea rolled black against a distant shore of Clawdiff.
The tide came in wrong there.
Too sweet.
Too bright.
Glowing syrup threaded through the waves, catching moonlight in oily ribbons of blue and pink. Broken pieces of ships drifted among the rocks — snapped masts, torn sails, half-melted cargo crates stamped with the sigil of the Council of Sight.
Then the water swelled.
Something vast moved beneath it.
Jell’thuzad rose from the sea like a nightmare dragged up from the bottom of the world. His jelly flesh shimmered with wounds, several tentacles scorched and ragged from the battle beneath Baruc Island. Cracks of molten sugar glowed along his body, slowly knitting themselves closed as the tide washed over him.
He dragged himself onto the shore, the stones hissing beneath his weight.
For a long while, he said nothing.
He only watched the sea.
Then the sky above him ignited.
A streak of molten orange split the darkness. It came down fast, trailing sparks and burning syrup like falling stars. With a shriek of flame and wings, a phoenix landed beside the shore, talons sinking into wet rock.
Ashsugar.
Her feathers were not feathers at all, but curling tongues of molten syrup and candied ash. Her wings burned gold at the edges, dripping glowing sugar that hardened into glass wherever it struck the stone. Her eyes blazed like coals beneath a crown of smoke.
She folded her wings and looked over the wreckage.
“You are doing well,” she said.
Jell’thuzad’s many eyes narrowed. “I lost the chamber.”
“You survived the chamber.”
“A lesser victory.”
“A necessary one.” Ashsugar stepped closer to the waterline, her claws clicking against the rocks. “Keep aggravating the Council’s supply ships. Fishing ports. Coastal routes. Anything that feeds them. Soon enough, they will panic and launch a full-scale attack.”
The kraken’s tentacles shifted slowly over the stones.
“I hope they send their best.”
Ashsugar looked at him sharply. “Be careful.”
Jell’thuzad let out a low, bubbling sound. Not quite laughter. Not quite pain.
“Careful?”
“We have lost too many comrades already.”
At that, the shore seemed colder.
The sea hissed between them.
Jell’thuzad turned his gaze toward the distant glow of Clawdiff, where the barrier shimmered faintly beyond the horizon.
“The one that wears Kenaz’s face is getting stronger.”
Ashsugar’s flames dimmed slightly.
For a moment, she looked almost sad.
“This is what Velcarius wants.”
Jell’thuzad’s tendrils curled against the stone. “To make them stronger?”
“To find out if they can become strong enough.” Ashsugar’s voice lowered, the fire in her throat crackling softer now. “If they can stop us, then they may be strong enough to stop what is coming.”
“And if they cannot?”
Ashsugar stared out across the black water.
“Then we will have to do it.”
Jell’thuzad was silent.
Above them, the clouds moved like bruises across the moon.
“As long as the song is ours,” he said at last. “Not hers.”
Ashsugar’s eyes flickered.
“Hopefully.”
The word hung between them, thin as smoke.
Jell’thuzad’s body pulsed, a ripple of unease passing through his candy flesh. “You do not sound certain.”
“I am not.”
“Then why continue?”
“Because certainty is a luxury for the unbroken.” Ashsugar turned her burning gaze back toward Clawdiff. “And because the Council will not be able to do anything without the little Hybrid and those connected to her.”
“The barrier keeps her out, at least,” Jell’thuzad said.
“For now.”
“That is good for us.”
Ashsugar’s molten wings shifted. “Not so good for them.”
The kraken’s eyes blinked, one after another.
“No,” he admitted. “Not for them.”
“Keep up the pressure,” Ashsugar said. “Destroy the supply ships. Smash the fishing ports. Force the Council to move. They are slow creatures, trapped in marble and procedure. Hurt their food, and even they will learn to run.”
Jell’thuzad’s beak-like mouth curled.
“I will keep destroying the supply ships. Soon they will react.”
“Good.”
“But what of Veloura and Crackjaw?”
Ashsugar’s flames brightened again, casting long orange reflections across the syrup-dark tide.
“Veloura is infiltrating. She already has replacements lined up to lead the converted when the current puppets break.”
Jell’thuzad gave a wet rumble. “She always did enjoy wearing other people’s faces.”
“She enjoys winning.”
“And Crackjaw?”
“Crackjaw is weeding the weak.” Ashsugar’s expression did not change. “Those who cannot survive the change will not survive what follows. Harsh, but necessary.”
Jell’thuzad looked toward the sea, where broken planks bobbed in the tide like bones.
“Soon, then.”
“Soon,” Ashsugar agreed. “We will be a force all of Prydain will tremble before.”
The kraken’s voice softened, strange and sorrowful coming from something so monstrous.
“Hopefully we will find peace.”
Ashsugar looked at him.
For a heartbeat, she was no longer all flame and command.
Only tired.
Old.
Wounded in ways no battle could show.
“Hopefully so.”
The waves rolled in.
Out.
In again.
Jell’thuzad lowered his body closer to the shore, half in water, half on stone. “Do you think Kenaz will come?”
Ashsugar did not answer at once.
The molten syrup along her wings cooled to a darker amber.
“Perhaps.”
“And Arax?”
Another pause.
“Perhaps,” she said again. “If they still remember who they are.”
Jell’thuzad’s many eyes turned toward her.
“Or?”
Ashsugar looked across the ocean, toward the distant city lights, toward the barrier, toward the frightened world beyond it.
“Or maybe, like us, the Council broke them too much.”
The kraken’s tentacles stilled.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
Only the sea moved.
At last, Ashsugar lifted her head, flames licking quietly along her crown.
“I wish you had finished us the first time, little wing,” she said to the empty horizon.
The words were not for Jell’thuzad.
Not really.
They were for someone who was not there.
Someone long gone.
Or perhaps someone still walking beneath another name.
Jell’thuzad sank slowly back into the water, his huge shape dissolving beneath the syrup-dark tide.
Ashsugar remained on the shore, burning softly against the night.
Far away, Clawdiff glowed behind its barrier.
Safe.
Starving.
Watched.
And beneath the waves, the Generals began to move again.
