Epilogue
Ines
Six moon cycles later.
The dining room of the compound is chaos.
I count the bodies around the table without really meaning to, it’s an old journalist habit. Chief is at the head. Scar to his right. Texon is beside me, one claw resting possessively on the curve of my six-months-pregnant belly under the table. Cannibal and Roxy across from us, with Zora between them trying to feed a piece of purple-root to her stuffed creature doll. Heavy and Jana are at the far end, Rux in the high chair, Jana already pregnant again. Claws and Lila with Argylia between them, Lila’s belly heavily rounded. Hook and Leah have come to visit from employee housing. Leah’s second pregnancy is starting to show. Chief and Naomi next to them, Naomi so pregnant at this point that she’s stopped pretending she can sit comfortably. Rook is at the foot of the table, eating quietly and watching the room the way he always does.
“So Kryzon’s moved,” Scar says suddenly, forking something purple onto his plate.
Chief grunts. “When?”
“Yesterday. They transferred him from the peacekeeper holding facility to the prison colony on Arkell-Seven. He’ll serve the rest of his sentence there. Two hundred rotations, no parole.”
“Good,” Heavy mutters.
“Has he talked?” Jana questions.
Scar shakes his head. “Not one name. Not one faction. Not one Chronos contact. The peacekeepers have offered him everything — reduced sentence, better facility, protection — and he refuses. Whoever he’s afraid of is scarier than a prison colony.”
“That says a lot,” I note.
“It says everything,” Scar agrees.
“And Grytel?” Cannibal asks through a mouthful of food.
All eyes come to me.
I swallow my bite. “Cooperating fully. He’s been briefing me for my next piece. He’s been briefing Scar too, separately. He’s not our enemy. He never was.” I glance at Chief. “He wants to help. He wants to know what happened to your parents as much as you do.”
Chief’s jaw works. It’s still hard for him — giving up the villain they’ve had in their heads for rotations. But he nods. “Then we work with him.”
“Weird,” Lila says. “Grytel helping the Fever Brothers.”
“Four sectors is a weird place,” I say.
“Cheers to that,” Roxy says, and lifts her glass.
Everyone drinks. Even the kids, with their sippy cups.
The knockat the front door comes just as Jana is setting down dessert.
Everyone goes still.
The compound does not get visitors. Ever.
Rook stands up without a word. He’s been on perimeter duty for rotations. He slips out of the dining room and down the hallway toward the front door.
I hear the door open.
I hear a female voice, small and exhausted, say something I can’t make out.
I hear Rook’s voice answer, low.
Silence.
Longer silence than it should be.
