It was still dark when Amos and Ink returned from the Infinite Lake. Amos exited gracefully, making use of the flipping gravity to break through the water and catch himself on his feet. In contrast, Ink was flailing and sputtering. He seemed to be drowning in the waist-deep water of the river.

  Amos gripped him and pulled him up unceremoniously. Ink coughed, a dry retching. He spat a stream of freshwater back into its source, then coughed once more. Amos watched him with an amused look.

  "Do we still have to cross the river?" Ink asked.

  "No," Amos said, "The water should have washed the scent away. The wolves won't be able to track us so easily now."

  "I'm not good at swimming," Ink's face spelled relief.

  "I know, buddy," Amos laughed, "Let's go find Kien now. We need to make sure he's safe."

  And so they set out, wading from the riverbank to the forest. The blaze had since died down somewhat. In truth, the forest was not terribly large. Still, though, it did burn like a beacon for the boys.

  They began their search there, returning to where Kien had told them to flee. The lush, green forest was transformed into an ashpit. Black scorch marks ran up every trunk, burning leaves and grey ash floated through the air.

  Amos noticed two blackened corpses - lumps of char more than anything else. He spat on them as he walked past, promising to come back and do worse if Kien didn't make it out. Ink looked down at them with sorrow. He took a moment longer than Amos, forced to jog to catch up.

  "Amos," Ink ventured, hanging back while he asked, "Are you really my friend?"

  Amos turned to meet his eyes. There was something innocent and fragile in them. Hope? Amos sighed.

  "Ink," he began, "I can count the number of people I know in this world on one hand. Three out of five are family, one's Yakob's friend, and the other is you."

  "Yes, but-"

  "You," Amos held up a hand, "are my only friend. And that makes you my best friend."

  "I got your dad hurt."

  "Yeah, well," Amos shrugged, "You saved my life. You can make up for getting us in this position by helping me find Kien. Dad, I mean."

  "Then we can be friends?"

  "We're already friends, Ink. Best friends, remember?"

  "Best friends..."

  Amos clapped him on the shoulder. His palm met the most prominent spiral tattoo - circles within circles. A static shock ran through the boys' skin where they touched.

  Pale skin. Concentric rings.

  "Come on," Amos said, "Time's a-wasting."

  ...

  They scoured the rest of the forest; Empty.

  They inspected the fig tree clearing; Nothing but old blood.

  They searched the fields; Naught but the budding wheat, furrows like scars on the earth.

  The sun began to rise with the same inevitability as Amos' anxiety. Kien was nowhere to be found. Ink traipsed along happily wherever they searched, but as morning approached, Amos' feet began to drag. He realised the last place to check was the farmhouse...

  But if he's not there, then...

  There was no way to procrastinate any further. Amos trudged back home, dread weighing down his each and every step. He tried convincing himself that it would be okay, that Kien was fine, but he had seen his wounds.

  Amos stood in front of the door. His posture was stiff, gaze cast firmly at his feet. Ink stood behind him, fidgeting. There was silence. The wood grain belied any life beyond it. Amos couldn't bring himself to open the door. As long as it remained closed, Kien was both alive and dead - Schrodinger's father.

  The rooster - Ra? - crowed to signal first light.

  Ink reached out with a tentative hand and knocked. Three quick raps.

  Leila opened it and, upon perceiving Amos, took him into a massive bear hug. Amos let her squeeze him. He felt the cloth on his shoulder moisten, then Leila pulled back to hold him at arm's length. She studied his face through bleary, grey eyes, then pulled him back into the hug.

  "Thank the Emperor," Leila said as she smoothed down his wild blond hair, kissing the top of his head over and over, "The Divine Will preserves us."

  Amos just grunted in response. He was exhausted from the events of the night, and he couldn't see Kien. Leila blocked any sightlines through the entrance.

  "And here's the screamer," Leila continued, disentangling herself, "Kien told me all about you, mister Ink."

  Kien spoke to her after he left?

  Amos pushed past Leila, leaving her with Ink.

  Strips of torn cloth saturated with blood lay tossed about the house. Some were soaking in a bucket of water, others strewn haphazardly across the room. There was a red handprint on the wall that Amos hadn't noticed before.

  Then, finally, Amos' gaze fell on Kien. He was stretched out on top of the table like a cadaver. He wasn't dead, but he wasn't far from it either. His chest rose gently with the deep breaths of dreamless sleep. His skin was pale, papery. Blue veins spidered across its surface, more prominent than they ever were. Kien's fingers twitched.

  Amos crumpled. Relief flooded his mind and body, weakening his knees. The weight of the responsibility he assumed - that of his father's misfortune - dissipated. It didn't leave entirely. It wouldn't until Kien was restored to health, but at least Amos knew he hadn't killed the person who treated him as a son, who loved him like one and protected him. All without knowing who he really was.

  One loses their faculties at the apex of exhaustion. Resultingly, Amos began to cry. Sobs racked his entire body. It was ugly, silent, sorrow for what could have been. He didn't understand what he was saying when he whispered, "Thank the Emperor."

  This is all my fault. I need to be more careful with Amos' life.

  This won't happen again.

  I will protect them.

  But I need power. Real power.

  The eclipse...

  "Come on, goose," Leila said, ruffling Amos' hair, "Your dad's a tough cookie. He'll be okay."

  Amos sniffed. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and thumbed away the tears. He saw Ink standing by the doorway, not wanting to intrude on the intimate moment.

  "Let's get you two to bed. You both look dreadful."

  Ink shrugged, "I've been worse."

  Leila smiled, "We can talk when you wake up. For now, Yakob's bed is free. He won't mind if you use it."

  "I've never had a bed before..." Ink said, more to himself than anyone else.

  Leila shot a concerned look at Amos, suddenly concerned about putting her son in the same room as the strange man.

  "It's okay," Amos interpreted her meaning effortlessly, "We're best friends."

  He led the way upstairs, showed Ink to Yakob's perfectly made bed, then flopped down onto his own. He didn't bother to pull up the covers. Sleep claimed him with his face buried in the feather pillow.

  ...

  It was day when Amos awoke. He had a headache, his muscles ached, and his eyes were crusted together. Either he hadn't slept enough, or he had slept too much into the next day.

  He yawned, stretching, then rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He opened them slowly, letting his vision adjust to the light, and massaged his temples. Ink was sitting cross-legged on Yakob's bed, watching Amos complete this ritual.

  Yakob's bed was still made in much the same manner as Amos had observed it last night. Ink slowly reached up to mimic Amos, massaging his temples also.

  Amos dropped his hands. "How long have you been up?" he asked.

  "I didn't sleep that much," Ink shrugged.

  Amos rolled out of bed, moving over to the chest of his belongings. He opened it, wincing. The creak of the hinge exacerbated the dull pain behind his eyes. Amos stopped, staring at the assorted items in the chest. Everything came back to him in a rush, all the memories of the forest.

  "Last night," Amos said to Ink over his shoulder, "You said Shanty brought you here."

  "Yeah," Ink nodded, "She's my friend, too."

  "She?"

  "I think so... she looked like a girl to me."

  "How could you tell? They - she - wore a mask. With the freaky snakes?"

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  "Oh, yeah. Her mask is really cool. She said she didn't need it for me, though, because I'm a special boy."

  Amos looked at Ink quizzically. He decided to let it go. "Why'd she bring you here?" he asked, digging out a leather apron from the chest.

  Ink stood up and walked over to peer into the chest as well. "She said there would be someone here named Yakob. He's supposed to help me."

  So Shanty wasn't lying about involving Yakob...

  How could he help Ink?

  Amos tossed Ink a spare change of clothes from the chest. They were his own. Ink was too big for Yakob's clothes.

  Shanty must have left him in the forest and left to find Yakob. Why wouldn't she want me to meet Ink?

  Who is this guy?

  "One more question, Ink," Amos said, tying the leather apron around his waist.

  "Mhm?"

  "You ever worked on a farm?"

  ...

  It seemed Ink would be staying a while. At least until Yakob returned and he received the 'help' he apparently needed. He went with Leila, who showed him which plants in the fields were wheat and which were weeds to be pulled.

  Amos spent some time by Kien's side. He had been moved from the table to the bed while Amos slept. Leila must have done it herself, since Kien wasn't in a state to be up and about.

  Kien was conscious, but only just. He smiled when he saw Amos, relatively uninjured. He opened his mouth to speak, but only managed a croak. His lips were dry and cracked.

  Amos left and returned with water in a small cup. He tipped it gently into Kien's mouth. Too much. Kien spluttered. Blood came up. Amos panicked and reached for a cloth to dry it up.

  "Come on, Dad," he said, trying to cope with humour, "Can't have you losing too much blood."

  "Heh," Kien smiled ruefully, "Didn't do too bad for an old man, did I?"

  Tears welled in Amos's eyes. His lip trembled. He just nodded.

  "Where am I?" Kien asked.

  "You're in bed, Dad. We're at home. You're safe now, but you just have to rest."

  "But, the farm..."

  "It's okay," Amos tried soothing him, "Mum's teaching Ink how to weed at the moment. We'll put that boy to work."

  "He's staying?"

  "He's here to see Yakob, then after that," Amos paused, "We'll see."

  "I didn't get to make eggs this morning."

  "Yeah. I'll make them for you tomorrow."

  "No!" Kien started, "I mean, please don't."

  Amos smiled, "No, no, I insist."

  Kien rolled his eyes. "...Rather starve," he muttered to himself.

  "Hey! They can't be that bad!"

  Kien laughed. In his current state, it was a barking noise that turned into a hacking cough. His body convulsed with each expulsion of air from his lungs. "Go," Kien waved a hand at Amos, "Do some work. You'll kill me if you make me laugh too hard."

  Amos left a jug of water and a cup where Kien could reach it. He found some pottage in the kitchen - maybe a day old, but it was covered - and left a bowl for him as well.

  "Don't forget," Amos said on the way out, "Eggs tomorrow!"

  Kien exaggerated a groan, making Amos grin.

  ...

  Leila was teaching Ink how to care for the animals on the farm. Amos watched intently, trying to pick up knowledge while pretending to work on something else. When they got to the Ra, Amos positioned himself far, far away. Still, he maintained a watchful eye.

  Leila told Ink nothing, a knowing smile creeping onto her face. She only directed him to the coop and asked him to collect the eggs. He looked back at Amos, who gave him a double thumbs up from a suspicious distance.

  They waited for screams of horror that never came. Ink went into the coop without a fuss and exited just as calmly.

  Maybe the demonic Ra aren't in the coop today.

  Ink left the coop like Jesus with his disciples. He carried a wicker basket full of large, greenish eggs and was surrounded by joyful, playful Ra. They frolicked around him, extending the freakish eye stalks to inspect him better.

  One opened its mouth to reveal a hellish tongue - thin and pronged. It was prehensile and moved like an octopus tentacle might. The tonguey Ra poked and prodded at Ink, slipping the barbed tongue under the hem of his shirt. It retreated redder than before - bloodied.

  Ink didn't seem to mind. He even giggled when the Ra cut him with its tongue. One jumped up onto his shoulders and flapped its patchy wings, letting loose a cry that sounded eerily human.

  "They're so cute, Leila!" Ink said.

  For her part, Leila was shocked. She turned to Amos, confirming that she was seeing correctly. These demon spawn never reacted this way to any of the Aquilas.

  "Do they have names?" Ink was oblivious to the incredulity around him.

  "No," Leila said, "We try not to get too attached to the food. I was actually going to slaughter one tonight, since Kien could do with some meat."

  "Oh," said Ink.

  "Normally they're not this nice," Leila said, trying to change the topic. She saw how crestfallen Ink became at the idea of one of his new friends being eaten.

  "It stings when they lick me," Ink said, "But it kind of tickles, too."

  A trickle of blood leaked out from his shirt. Leila rushed over to inspect it, shooing the doting Ra away. She couldn't manage to scare off the one on Ink's shoulders, so she just left it there, squawking villainously.

  "Oh honey, they cut you," she lifted up his shirt without asking. There were thin red lines and splotchy welts all over Ink's torso. Leila tutted and began inspecting his tattooed stomach for damage.

  When that wolf bit his leg last night, it seemed to regrow. Ink must have some sort of healing ability. Lucky!

  Wait...

  Leila will freak out if she sees these wounds closing so quickly!

  "Hey, Mum..." Amos said. Leila turned to see what her son wanted. At the moment that her face turned away from Ink, his tattoos began to swirl, shifting across his body like snakes in sand. The lacerations began to close, the skin knitting itself together with a certain rapidity. "Leave his clothes on. He'll be fine."

  Leila blushed and dropped the tunic. She stood, smoothing down her dress. "Sorry," she mumbled, "I wasn't thinking..."

  "Oh, it's okay, Mrs. Aquila," Ink said, looking very confused about the whole thing, "I'm tough!"

  "Alright," Leila clapped her hands together, "That's the basics. Now we can get back to weeding!"

  Amos groaned inwardly but didn't make a complaint. It was a privilege for him to be able to walk and weed, unlike Kien. Ink nodded and deposited the basket of eggs in the farmhouse. He took the Ra on his shoulders in with him and returned holding it in the crook of his arm.

  "This one's name is Cassie. She's not for dinner," Ink levelled a resolute gaze at Leila.

  "Okay, Ink," she laughed, "We won't eat Cassie. As long as you finish an acre of weeding by sundown!"

  Ink started and put Cassie the unholy Ra down gently. He gave her a pat on her head which, due to her vestibulo-ocular reflex, resulted in the wiry eye stalks bulging out. With the weight of the Ra's life in his hands, Ink took up his basket and ran to the fields. He had a determined look on his face.

  Amos wasn't sure if he knew Leila was joking, but he thought Ink would run to the ends of the Earth for that Ra.

  ...

  The clouds rolled in fast that day, heavy and grey. The rain they promised was a boon for the farmers along the Armastan. Additionally, the shade they provided from the brutal sun was much welcomed by Amos and Ink as they worked to pull weeds together. Leila had taken a break to go check on Kien in the farmhouse, leaving the two boys to work alone.

  "So," said Amos, breaking the silence, "I bet you have some questions."

  "Don't distract me, Amos," Ink said, pulling two weeds at once, "I'm trying to save Cassie's life!"

  "Ink. She was joking."

  "It's not good to joke about death. It's a serious topic." Ink looked at Amos when he said this. His eyes were a bright green. There was something in them - deep and unknowable.

  He reacted very strangely to the Infinite Lake earlier...

  Amos returned to work. He checked over his shoulder to see if Leila was likely to come back soon before asking, "What do you know about the Infinite Lake?"

  "I don't think it's called that."

  "That's what I'm calling it."

  Ink shrugged. "I'm not allowed to go there. It's bad."

  "Can you tell me anything about it?"

  "Sure. My dad told me it exists outside of space, but not time. He said some fancy words, but I'm not good with those. He likes it because dead people go there."

  An extra-dimensional plane...

  Could it be the realm of death? The underworld? Hell?

  That must be why I can speak to my soul there!

  "But it's dangerous," Ink continued, "You shouldn't go there. It's bad for you, too."

  "You said something about your dad?"

  Ink shut his mouth and turned away.

  Touchy topic...

  Noted.

  "Amos," Ink said over his shoulder, "Are you dead?"

  "No! Well... it's complicated."

  "I saw your soul in the Lake. I can't be friends with dead people."

  He already knows most of my secret...

  But can I really trust him?

  "I'm not dead," Amos said, "I'm just... someone else. I don't really understand what happened, but-"

  "Less chatting, more pulling, boys!" Leila said, approaching with another empty bucket.

  "Just promise me you won't go back there. It's dangerous," Ink hissed.

  Yeah, right.

  Amos nodded. It was starting to rain.

  ...

  Amos waited for Ink's breathing to settle into a soft rhythm. He laid in his bed, pretending to sleep. He strained his ears for signs of life, hearing the occasional rustle of fabric as Ink turned in Yakob's sheets.

  Eventually, silence settled for more than a few minutes. Amos decided it was safe. He carefully peeled away the blanket, laying it to the side. He reached a tentative foot out to the wooden planks, praying that it wouldn't creak loud enough to wake the sleeping giant opposite him.

  The rain had died out with the setting of the sun. With no more pitter-pattering of droplets on the roof to mask his flight, Amos crossed the room.

  He reached the door and gently touched the handle.

  "Where are you going?" Ink asked loudly.

  Shit.

  "Shh!" Amos whipped around, "Don't wake everyone up!"

  "Where are you going?" Ink whispered.

  Amos tried to think of a lie.

  "The bathroom?" he tried.

  "Oh," Ink said, "Can you be quick? I can't sleep without you."

  "Sure," Amos said.

  Can't sleep without me? I know I said we're best friends, but really?

  Amos did the dance, trying to sell the lie.

  "Go," Ink shooed him, "Don't pee yourself."

  Amos fled down the stairs, barely perceiving Ink's muted giggles at the notion of Amos and incontinence. His destination was outside the farm house - any of the puddles left by the earlier rain would do.

  The moon hung low, waxing gibbous. The stars sparkled with a brilliance whenever they peeked through the occasional gap in the cloud cover. Amos searched for a short while, looking for a puddle out of sight of his bedroom window and generally hidden.

  Shortly, he found a suitable ditch filled with water. He stepped in without hesitating, hands in his pockets. The puddle was deeper than it should have been - than it physically could be. Amos sank until the water was over his head, and then some. He held his breath.

  When gravity reversed and he entered the plane of death - the Infinite Lake - he stepped coolly out of the void portal and onto the obsidian. He barely even disturbed the water. He was getting used to this place.

  Amos' soul was in his face immediately. "Is he safe?"

  "See for yourself," Amos held out his hand to share the memories of the last day. His soul took it eagerly. It sifted through them thoroughly. "Happy?" Amos asked.

  "You're lucky," it said, "Dad's strong. He saved you with the fire."

  "Yeah, I know. I won't let him get hurt again. I want to help you get your body back."

  "But we don't know what will happen to you," the soul said, its brow furrowing over grey eyes, "If what Ink said is true, I'm half dead. This is where souls go when they pass."

  "I might die," Amos said, "But I already did. Anything else I get is a blessing."

  The soul was quiet.

  "I'm truly thankful for the time I could spend with your family. I'm really sorry this happened to you. I'll make it up to you."

  The soul sighed. "You'll have to leave the farm. You won't learn anything there. Unless..."

  "You think Ink knows something?"

  "The guy with moving tattoos? The guy whose dad knows all about the realm of death? Yeah he probably knows something about magic."

  "What about Shanty? She did something with her staff, remember?"

  "She's Drai," the soul said, "Be careful with her."

  "Is she really insane?"

  "The weak ones go insane. The strong ones go insane. She seems middling."

  "So..."

  "So most likely fine. But keep her away from my family."

  "What about the envelope? And the red string? And the voice in my head?"

  "I don't know, Bailey. I'm just a farmer. Yakob might know something, but your best bet is to ask Ink or find Shanty."

  Amos nodded. The two spent some time talking. The soul shared a few stories about his family, making Amos laugh with every one. They bonded over their shared desire to protect the Aquilas. Amos felt secure now he had a direction - a plan.

  When it came time to leave, he stood and shook the soul's hand. They weren't exactly friends, but their goals aligned for now. And that was enough. The soul dissipated into nothingness. It would await his return before returning to consciousness.

  Amos reached out to the portal, alone now. The red string appeared in his chest as he approached, but...

  Something was wrong.

  The string tugged him in the opposite direction. It was gentler than it had ever been. Almost imperceptible. Amos decided to follow it's pull - it was what brought him here, after all.

  When the string's tugging died down, Amos looked around him. He scanned the flat horizons for any difference. There was one thing out of the ordinary - a solitary figure.

  Another person!

  When Amos looked at her, she opened her eyes and met his. There was an intensity that overcame all of Amos' senses. His vision tunneled into her eyes - brown and gentle - allowing him to see nothing else. His skin crawled and his ears were ringing. His tongue felt thick and stupid in his mouth.

  The woman began to speak. Her voice resounded in Amos' head like an echo.

  "BAILEY. WE FINALLY MEET."