The Grand Conclave of Assholes is supposed to be tomorrow morning, provided everyone agrees to come. I’m pretty certain they will. Unless another species is keeping a very tight ship, I’m the only one who knows what the Bui really are. Before I face them, I have two pieces of business to handle.

  First, I need to check up on humanity, and check humanity. There are only 96 of us left. If there’s still a Bui wearing one of us like a skinsuit, I need to know, or we might find ourselves contributing unwillingly to the end of this stage. We’re less than three thousand deaths from advancing, whatever that entails, and I’d like to preserve as many of the 96 as I can into the next round. Even if I’m only delaying people like Evelynn’s death, every human breath is important at this point.

  We have so few left to draw.

  The second thing I need to do is find Zara. The boys both said that they saw her while I was unconscious, but that she’s acting strangely. Aloof, or afraid, or something. She’s never been the warmest fire in winter, but she’s softened somewhat in the time we’ve known each other. Something must have happened in the chaos of the Havenless night, and I’m not going to let that fester.

  The human apartment hallways always felt a bit empty, but now they feel like the ruins of an ancient advanced civilization. Empty halls, empty caverns, open doors like empty pits in a broken smile. Shivering, I hurry towards the glade. For once, George Wellington is in attendance, head down, sitting on one of the couches, staring emptily into his dangling hands. Ellie is curled up on a loveseat across from him.

  I raise a hand in greeting to Grettel, who smiles at me warmly as if nothing happened, and Evelynn, who grimaces at me, also as if nothing happened. As it turns out, sociopathy and senility share a certain disregard for current events, no matter how tragic.

  George looks up as I settle into a chair beside Ellie. His eyes are haunted, broken, robbed of the angry certitude he’d held when I met him. They convey enough of the wound he bears that my heart aches in sympathy.

  “You did what you could,” I say after a moment.

  “It wasn’t enough.” His empty hands become fists. “It never is.”

  “There’s still some of us left, thanks to you. You took care of these people.” I sigh, trying to find the words. “Listen, we all know the stakes. It would have come for them eventually. They were never going to make it far, but at least you gave them hope that someone would.”

  His eyes squeeze shut, tears leaking down his haggard face. He’s older than he looks, I think. Or perhaps he is just worn down.

  “I wasn’t meant for this,” he says slowly. His eyes open, and words come spilling out like a confession. “I was a manager at Tesco. In Blackburn. The last time I was in a fight was primary school.” A pained laugh drags its way out of his throat. “My store wasn’t even very profitable. Had a light hand, you see. Couldn’t even handle disputes between my employees. Caught stealing? Second chance. Trouble at home? Take some time. Feeling down? Come get a pint. Always wanted everybody to be happy. Didn’t seem anyone was. Couldn’t keep my wife happy, that’s for sure. She left when I was late home one night, a note folded on the table in the kitchen. Called me spineless, though her words were a bit more… choice. Couldn’t take it anymore. Drove down to Beachy Head and was getting ready, see? For the long drop. That’s when they took me.”

  Well, shit. Part of me thought Wellington was ex-military. His confidence, his weapons, his leadership… A fucking grocery store manager? And now he’s spilling his guts like I’m some sort of therapist. I am not trained for this. What do you even say to a confession like that? Before I can think of anything, Ellie uncurls and leans forward.

  “I was a barrel racer,” Ellie says into the silence. At my questioning look, she smiles wanly and shakes her head. “It’s a kind of horse race where you ride around barrels fast as you can. They do it at rodeos. I was pretty good, fighting for fastest. My horse, Copper, was fast as could be. I knew that it was my fault we weren’t winning. I just had to commit, to let go and let her run. Well, I won alright. And Copper broke her ankle at the end. When they handed me that shiny gold buckle, it should have been the happiest moment of my life, but all I could think about was Copper and the look on the vet’s face. And that’s when they took me.”

  I’m sensing a bit of a pattern, Kora. You and your dumbass compatriots had no idea whatsoever about how our world worked. Didn’t you do any research before you just snatched up a bunch of normal people?

  “We are not given much time to choose. Hours, by Earth measurement. The most successful Mentors developed a method to quickly choose suitable warriors, looking for particular traits. Leadership. Followers. Age. Sentients that others listened to and lifted over the rest. It is a tactic that rarely leads us astray. Your civilization though… yes, I will fully admit that we did not understand it. What folly led you to raise up such weak, pathetic, and craven souls? Why did you even heed them?”

  Is that really what you think of me?

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  “No,” she says, and I can tell she means it. “And not these survivors. Anyone left after the first stage will be worthy of this Tournament.”

  I glance at Evelynn, who is in the process of screeching vitriol at Grettel and throwing down her cards in disgust.

  “Most of them,” she amends with a silent sigh.

  When I turn back, George and Ellie are staring at me. Expectantly. Oh. They want me to…?

  “Uh, well. I was just a college kid about to graduate. A Lit major. No athletic extracurriculars in my entire life. I was second in my class, and it was one of those small schools that still acts like a high school, you know? Where the valedictorian gives speeches and whatever. I went there for a girl, and she…” I cough around the lump in my throat. “She died two weeks before graduation. Car wreck. She was alone. Toxicology says drunk. I like to imagine she was happy. Laughing, maybe. Changing the song or something. They said it was quick.” I wipe tears from my face and take the deepest breath I can. “Anyway, I had to give the graduation speech. I was up there when they took me.”

  Ellie puts her hand on my knee, offering me an encouraging smile. I do my best to return it, but I’m not sure I manage.

  “Seems like we were all dealt a pretty shit hand,” she says, waving her hand as if to encompass not just our little circle but the glade, the tournament, even the whole heartless universe. “The gods sure have a strange sense of humor. I hope the other shards are doing better, or you might as well kiss humanity goodbye.”

  “Doesn’t matter who they picked or why,” I say, forcing my shoulders straight. “Even if it should have been someone else, it is us. We’ve got to do our best.”

  “Why?” Wellington says quietly, then louder. “Why? Why should we fight? We’re up against a bunch of trained killers, aliens that eat your bloody soul. I never hurt a fly before this cockup, and now… do what you want, but I’m done.”

  “George,” Ellie says, but he ignores her, shoving himself to his feet and stalking deeper into the apartments.

  She shoots me an apologetic look and follows after him, calling his name. I wander over to Grettel and Evelynn, the latter of whom has fallen asleep, her gentle snores hardly stirring the thin hair that’s fallen across her face.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Grettel says in greeting, gesturing towards the empty space next to her. I settle in and she puts her arm around my shoulders. Part of me idly wonders if this is performative, if the cold assassin truly cares about me or if she’s just putting on a show. It doesn’t matter, because her hug feels grandmotherly regardless. “And theirs. Hard days behind, and harder nights ahead.”

  “Did Ben…?”

  “They found what was left of him,” Grettel confirms.

  “Damn.” The weight of the old woman’s arm is comfort and warmth made tangible. Pressure builds in my chest, pressure to talk to someone, anyone. The urge to clam up rises and fades in a breath, and I sigh. “I feel like I should be hurting more.”

  I don’t know why I want to speak, or what I want out of it. Maybe I’m missing Molly and all our little talks. She always used to tell me that sharing things makes the burden lighter. Not really sure about that one, Moll. Maybe it just doubles the weight.

  “Go on, child,” Grettel says kindly.

  “So many people have died. People I knew, like Ben, and thousands I’ll never get the chance to meet. I see George and Ellie hurting, like really hurting, and I just… can’t. All I can think about is the 96 we still have. I just don’t feel anything for the people who are gone. All I think about is forward, the problems I have to solve, the things I have to do. Is that… wrong?”

  “No, child, it isn’t wrong.” Grettel rubs my arm and pulls me closer. “It is necessary. George isn’t going to see the other side of this. He might have, had he been alone. He’s stronger than he thinks. But what he’s seen has broken him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets it in his head to go ‘hunting’ things he shouldn’t in the next few hours, seeking death whether he admits it or not. I only hope Ellie doesn’t get pulled into it with him.”

  “Grettel, who were you before all this?”

  “I wanted to be a mother,” she says, her voice still kind, though pained. “It was all I ever wanted to be. Instead, the world made me a killer. I lived a quiet life, a happy life in spite of everything. But for my address, I probably would have died in that quiet, happy life. Our house was just on the wrong side of Berlin when the war ended. After… my husband couldn’t keep his mouth shut, even when I begged him to. He brought them to us. The Soviets. They took my children, so I took their fathers.”

  “That’s… really sad. What… if you don’t mind me asking, what were their names?”

  “Tomas and Anne. The only stars in my sky.”

  “I’m sorry, Grettel.” I shift up to look into her weathered face, her eyes far away. “Truly.”

  “It is past. I have lived in darkness long enough to have grown used to its dimness.” She smiles. “At least it wasn’t all a waste. I get to protect other mother’s children even if I couldn’t protect my own.”

  “I can attest to that,” I say, smiling and forcing myself to my feet. “You’re kind of scary with a knife in your hand.”

  God, how powerful is she now? She accounted for a bunch of hostiles in the fight. I let my eyes focus idly on her long enough for Identification to activate.

  I turn quickly and walk towards the front of the apartments, threading past the dangling willow branches as quickly as I can. In the safety of the hallway, I pause, breathing deeply to calm my racing heart.

  I don’t know when it happened, either in the Havenless fight or after. I know she was normal before. I Identified her directly when we first met. But now…

  Identification: Grettel Friedrich, Human Shadowwalker

  Level: 32 (24)

  Strengths: Charisma, Intelligence

  Weaknesses: Senility

  I just spent fifteen minutes spilling my guts to a fucking Bui.