Lacus Bonitatis

TIMELINE: AUGUST 19, 2017. TWO DAYS TO THE ECLIPSE.

Kelpie isn't tired.

She ought to be—she didn't sleep while they were waiting for Artemis to take her trip across the City sky, and even if she had, they'd been running around for a while before that. Adrenaline is exhausting under normal circumstances. She should be tired—but she's not. She feels fine.

That's a problem, because everyone else is asleep, even Erin. The amount of time she and the siblings spent dozing in the everything doesn't seem to have been enough to prepare them for the day, and all three went to their rooms to collapse after the Lunars left. Except for an ancient orange cat that strolled into the kitchen, creaked at her several times in apparent expectation of breakfast, and then left in disgust when Kelpie failed to feed it, she's the only thing awake in the whole house.

She's not sure she's ever been this bored in her life.

Boredom is a relatively new discovery. She never had much time for it in the lab, where she was continually needed for one task or another. Margaret had likely been trying to run her too hard for her to realize how many holes there were in the story of her situation. And after leaving the lab, of course, everything had been new and terrifying, overwhelming in ways she didn't have the experience to understand and easily deal with. So this is the first opportunity she's had for boredom, really, and while it hasn't been that long, she's already pretty sure she doesn't like it.

Leaning as far back in her chair as she can, until she feels the front legs lift off the floor and the back of her head is resting against the wall, she stares at the ceiling and wonders how long she's supposed to endure this before she's allowed to start waking people up. That's probably one of those social rules you learn through osmosis when you're allowed to actually be a part of the world and not just an adjunct to everything that's happening around you.

"Kelpie?" Luis's voice is thick with sleep. She whips around, the front legs of her chair thudding back to the floor, and finds him standing in the kitchen doorway, rubbing his eyes with one balled-up fist and blinking at her. In case it wasn't clear enough that he just got up, his hair is sticking out in all directions, lending him a comical air. "What are you doing here?"

"I, um. I'm staying here too," she says. "Did your mom not tell you?"

She's not sure what Isabella will have told him, or what she can have told him. Does he even know his father is dead? Do they know who has the body? If the alchemists have him, friendly, non-magical Juan, they can bring him back as an auf, they can turn him into the weapon he never asked or deserved to be—

But that's a problem for later, for people more accomplished and experienced than she is. For right now, she only has to deal with Luis, who has stopped rubbing his eyes and is looking at her plaintively, as Bobby comes up behind him and starts nudging the back of the boy's knees with his cold, wet nose.

"I was going to take Bobby out. Is there breakfast when I get back?"

"Not the kind your mom will make when she gets up, but I bet we can manage toast without setting the kitchen on fire."

Luis nods and heads for the back door, and Kelpie rises to begin looking for things they can eat without using anything more complicated than the toaster. Bread, milk, and cereal are all reasonably easy to locate, and she can only hope she's not stealing someone's specifically earmarked food as she toasts the first few slices and begins searching for jam and butter.

Luis comes back in a few minutes later, and for a little while, things are easy. Food is simple. He seems enchanted by the novelty of cold breakfast and sugar cereal, and doesn't ask her any more questions, which she views as a small mercy at the beginning of what's likely to be a long and terrible day. She's rinsing their bowls in the sink when she hears Artemis scream.

The sound of ceramic shattering against the floor is almost drowned out by the agonizing wailing in her ears. She claps her hands over them and whirls around, seeking the source of the sound. She finds nothing. She and Luis are alone in the kitchen. He's staring at her, frightened and confused by her sudden panic.

"Kelpie? What's wrong?"

Artemis is still screaming, but the sound is distant, for all that it's deafeningly loud. It's almost enough to knock her down. She forces herself to straighten, to take her useless hands from her ears—they weren't doing anything to block the sound, anyway; it's not the sort of sound that stops with a physical barrier—and looks to Luis.

"When Roger and Dodger get up, tell them I had to go," she says. "Tell them I'm sorry, but it was important. Can you do that?"

"I don't…"

"Can you do that?"

Luis stares at her for a few more seconds, then nods, slowly and deliberately.

"I can do that."

"Thank you," she says, and turns, and runs, racing toward the sound as hard as she can. She hits the front door without slowing more than absolutely necessary, and then she's outside, running toward campus, running across the city she doesn't really know, through crowds of people who can't see her clearly because of what she is. And for the first time, she isn't thinking about the ones who can see her. She's just running, moving as fast as she can with screams ringing in her ears and threatening to overwhelm her.

The cereal and toast she ate with Luis are a stone in her stomach, heavy and unyielding. She'd stop to vomit, but that would slow her down, and she doesn't feel like they have the time to waste on something as trivial as her nausea. Artemis is still screaming, and so she's still running, following the sound, which isn't a sound at all, but a feeling, like razors being dragged along her nerves.

She hits the edge of campus hard and keeps on running, letting the screams guide her, arrowing in on their source as accurately as an actual arrow, like she's been loosed from Artemis's bow, designed to fly straight and unerringly to her target.

Her path takes her to a large brick building with students gathered outside. None of them give her a second glance. She expects, momentarily, to charge inside, but instead, the screams lead her around the building to the creek beyond, a channel cut through campus, flanked by high muddy banks. Hooves don't give her a lot of traction on the slope, but they dig in enough that she doesn't need to slow as she plunges down, into the water, through a faint gleam in the air and into someplace entirely other.

Diana of the moon; Diana of the underworld. There's a reason Diana is among the most powerful Lunars, and as Kelpie stumbles to a stop on the wide stone floor of a seemingly endless cavern, she understands the reason better than she ever has. The alchemist who killed Margaret is there, as are Chang'e, Máni, and Artemis. The latter isn't screaming. She's bound and gagged, tied to some sort of stone spire growing straight out of the floor. Máni and Chang'e are back to back, their eyes fixed on the auf surrounding them. These auf are less human-looking than the two former members of Margaret's research team, but Kelpie recognizes them all the same; they're the members of Isabella's coven, seized and gutted by the man with the cadaver's smile.

Diana is there, fully stepped up into her divine aspect, the air around her sparkling like purest moonlight. She turns to Kelpie as she hears the other woman's hooves clatter on the cavern floor, and she beams with satisfaction and pleasure.

"Ah, the little runaway hind," she says. "I wondered if you'd be joining us today."

"Kelpie, get out of here," yells Chang'e.

"Don't be silly: she can't leave," says Diana. "She's our guest of honor. The Lunar with no alignment. She'll open the door to Aske's everything, and we'll be able to end this. The light will be restored to the tower, and all will be well. Forever."

"The light will guide us home," says the alchemist, and somehow that's the worst thing of all, hearing the words Kelpie once thought of as a sacrament transmuted into the threat they always truly were.

Artemis glares daggers at him. Kelpie stumbles to a stop, looking wildly around the room they're all occupying.

"What are you doing?" she demands.

"Oh, it's very simple," says Diana. "Tonight's the last time the City will be accessible before the eclipse. So we're going to send you to open Aske's everything, and let your creators in. They'll open the gates for their fellows, and cut the tie between the City and the Lunars. We'll be free. We'll retain our divinity, but we won't be servants anymore. We can finally be the gods we were always meant to be."

Kelpie hesitates. Diana's right; she can't run, not with Artemis right there, trapped and tied and needing her. She glances over her shoulder. It wouldn't matter if Artemis wasn't there, because more auf are behind her, blocking the way out. If there even is a way out: there's no tunnel or doorway there, only more cavern.

She looks back to Diana. "You can't really intend to give the City to the alchemists," she pleads. "They'll do terrible things."

"Everyone does," says Diana. "Mr. Rapp?"

The man with the skeleton smile steps forward, withdrawing a jar from his pocket. It's filled with silver-red fluid, surrounding a silver key. He thrusts it at her, and Kelpie takes it automatically, having been long trained to obedience and good behavior.

"The gate is this way," says Diana, gesturing for Kelpie to follow her. "Do as you're told and we might leave Artemis ascendant when we're done. Or we could banish her entirely—she's had quite long enough—and give the body back to her mortal aspect. Doesn't Anna deserve a chance to live?"

"I don't…" Kelpie stumbles after her, glancing helplessly at the cornered Lunars.

Máni grabs Chang'e by the shoulders and shoves her forward, hard, right through the circle of auf. They look momentarily confused, but their orders must have been both narrow and clear, because they don't follow her, only begin to close in on Máni and Artemis, as Chang'e runs to Kelpie's side, grabbing her hand and glaring defiantly at Diana.

"Synthetic or not, she's a junior Lunar, and that makes her my responsibility," she snaps.

"Go with her, then, for all I care," says Diana. She gestures to the cavern wall. "Touch the jar to the stone, and we'll finish this," she adds.

Chang'e slips her hand into her pocket while Diana's attention is on Kelpie, sneaking something out. She looks at Kelpie and nods, and Kelpie, trying not to shake, does as she's been told.

The gate blossoms into existence, a series of complicated swoops and spirals like flower petals etched in shining light sketching itself outward, not from the key in Kelpie's hand but from Chang'e's fist where it rests against the stone. Kelpie realizes what she's done as the other woman takes her arm and the two of them step into the everything.

Diana realizes the truth an instant later, following them. And Chang'e, who left a peach pit behind the last time she was in her own everything, stamps her foot against the ink-dark ground, and the tree bursts into life.

Diana is the senior Lunar. She's held her position for decades. Her power eclipses Change's as much as a floodlight will eclipse a candle, and Kelpie has no power to speak of. But for all that Diana is a tower of strength, she's also a human woman, and Professor Williams is as mortal as any other human. She's made of flesh and bone, and neither of those things is made to endure a peach tree growing directly up and through her body. It pierces her lower back and keeps growing, following the command it has been given.

Diana is in the act of reaching for Kelpie, making a strangled sound as branches begin to break through the skin of her abdomen and torso. The leaves glisten dark with blood. The fruit this tree bears will taste of slaughter. Chang'e stops to look back at her, flinching at the sight but not turning away.

"You shouldn't have betrayed the City, Diana," she says.

Diana makes that horrible, inhuman sound again, thrashes, and goes still. Chang'e sighs.

"Think the Doctrine will help me get her out of here?" she asks. "I don't want a corpse in my everything forever." Kelpie is staring at her. "She would have done the same to us, you know. Now come on."

They step back out of the everything. The auf are closing in on Máni and Artemis, while Diana's alchemist ally watches, still smiling. Chang'e steps rapidly down again, back toward humanity, and Judy places her fingers in her mouth, whistling shrilly. The alchemist's head snaps toward her, attention wavering.

"Máni!" she shouts. "Release her!"

He nods, turning to rip the ropes away from Artemis. They're thick cable, but they freeze where he touches them, shattering to shreds under his hands like they were made of nothing substantial, and he spins to charge at the nearest auf, shoulders down like he's trying to cross the football field.

Artemis straightens, shaking her arms out. This time, when she reaches for her bow, she finds it easily, and takes aim at another auf, releasing half a dozen arrows in quick succession.

The alchemist with the skeleton smile stops smiling for the first time, looking almost concerned. He turns to Kelpie. "We made you," he says. "You have to see the wisdom of allowing us to take the City. We're undoing the damage Baker did. We're…"

"Monsters," she finishes, before he can. "Maybe I am too. I don't think it matters all that much. Artemis is going to kill you now, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life forgetting that I ever saw your face. You made me, but I'm the one who decides what that means. I don't work for you."

"Anna," he begins, desperately.

"Is dead," says Artemis, as she releases another arrow. He stops mid-sentence, unable to speak with the arrow through his throat, and stares at her as she advances. "You people killed her, and now we'll never know who she could have been."

He reaches for her. She puts two more arrows after the first, until his labored breaths begin to slow. Even the apples of Ieunn won't save him from this.

"I hate it here," says Kelpie.

"Me, too," says Chang'e. "Let's go."

And they walk away, three moon gods and a constructed companion, closing the door on an artificial underworld occupied by half a dozen dead auf and one dying alchemist, and not a one of them looks back.

Not once.