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“If the shades break through the walls tomorrow, I want to feel like I might have at least some kind of-of… chance. And you,” Aimee said. “You know how to survive. I’ve seen it. I want you to teach me how.”

Taly paused for a long moment. She couldn’t believe she was even considering…

Despite her better judgment, she turned and came back down the stairs to stand in front of her cousin. “That’s the most honest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Aimee’s chin lifted.

“Say please.”

Aimee’s mouth curled. “No.”

“Then no deal.” Taly turned to go.

“Okay—fine.” Taly turned around again. Waited. Aimee took a breath and then glowered through it. “Please, oh beloved cousin, will you train me?”

It was grating, reluctant, full of pain—absolutemusicto Taly’s ears.

She folded her arms. “I don’t want to hear any complaining when your ass is sore and your legs don’t work. You do what I say, eat what I tell you, and if I sense even a whisper of attitude, I’m out. Understand?”

Aimee opened her mouth, saw the take-no-shit look on Taly’s face, and grated out a muttered, “Fine.”

“Great!” Taly said. “We can start right now. I need to take Calcifer for a run.”

“But I already ran this morning.”

“How far?”

Aimee’s chest puffed out proudly. “To the corner of Adissen and Maine.”

Surprising. Not enough to save her, but still about two miles farther than the zero Taly was expecting.

“That means you’re all warmed up then,” she chirped, enjoying how Aimee’s expression fell. “A nice, easy jog to the Swap should be no trouble. We’ll get you a pair of striders that actually fit while we’re there. I’d like to have those back before you stretch them out with your monster feet.”

Aimee scoffed. “You’re just mad because I don’t need to shop in the toddler section like you.”

Taly placed a dramatic hand to her chest. “Ow.”

“Oh, shut up. You’re not hurt.”

“Not as much as your gargantuan feet are hurting my poor, innocent shoes.”

Kato didn’t get the fuss over the Long Night. Sure, the sun was gone, but that just meant the party kept going.

It was early. Probably. Hard to tell without a sunrise to mark the day. Not that it mattered—time had blurred into a haze of smoke and booze, and Kato was already well into what promised to be a banner day.

The whiskey burned on its way down, chasing off the worst of last night’s hangover, and the mirthroot blunt between his fingers sent lazy curls of smoke into the air. He took another drag, holding it just long enough for his head to buzz, before exhaling a stream of smoke at the mirror in front of him.

“Good morning, handsome.” He flashed himself a sharp, lopsided grin. His shirt hung open, wrinkled and barely clinging to his shoulders.

The music blared from the corner of the room—some upbeat, brassy nonsense he’d found in one of the ensign’s bunks. Perfect for his current mood of don’t-give-a-fuck. He spun on his heel, the blunt pinched between his fingers as he inhaled deeply.

There was a thump, like the sound a boot would make connecting with something solid—probably the wall. “C’mon, man,” said a muffled voice from the room next door. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”

Sleep was for the weak and the boring. And it was almost roll call anyway. The Gate Watchers barrack would soon be humming with activity.

Kato caught his reflection in the mirror—shirt hanging open, hair a mess, and a wild energy crackling off him that even the blunt couldn’t dull.

“You look good,” he said, brushing a hand through his hair with theatrical flair. “Not smart. Not clever. But damn, do you look good.”