Something tugged hard at Anji’s collar and she was dragged to her feet, the Ox panting at her back.

“We are but the mouths through which the One speaks, the air upon which Their winged truths ride.” The Bear strode around the fire. “It is by Their design your path has met ours, Anji.”

Anji heard the rasp of metal on leather and squirmed in the Ox’s iron-hard grip, her vision sharp, a distant roaring in her ears. The blood in her veins pulsed like a drum, blotting out the crackling fire, the wind clipping through the ruined cathedral walls. The Bear held out a hand and the Ox let Anji go for an instant, slipping a gleaming dagger into those slender gloved fingers before holding Anji fast once more.

“You are not the One’s warrior for justice in this world, child,” said the Bear into Anji’s ear. “You can fight your whole life, run toward the light you’ve convinced yourself must exist beyond the dark, but you’ll find no answers in that void—only pain.”

The Ox wrenched Anji’s arm away from her side and pulled her to the lectern, the chipped marble shining in the sun’s dying glow. The faded symbol of the candle wreathed in sunrays stood out among the white stone, black in shadow, like a forgotten verse of song. Anji felt the cold grip of flat rock beneath her exposed wrist and looked up to the Bear, her stomach dropping at the sight of the graven lines of the Bear’s mask, stoic and still.

“Pain is all you will ever know, Anji. You murdered King Rolandrian, a man placed by the One’s design. You spit on Their decree! You besmirch Their word, Their construction! For this your life on this plane is forfeit, but you may yet enter into the Realm Under by humbling your body. With ruination comes the dawn!”

“With ruination comes the dawn,” echoed the Ox, her mask frigid as the stone Anji’s hand rested on. The Bear raised her dagger.

“No,” Anji breathed. “No, please—”

Anji balled her hand into a fist, but the Ox unfurled her fingers and pressed them hard to the stone. She separated her index and middle fingers and pressed at their tips. Anji squirmed and writhed, but the woman’s body was like a brick wall, her arms a cage she couldn’t escape.

“Don’t! Please! I’m sorry! I didn’t—”

She felt the dagger’s edge kiss her skin.

“See us, oh singularity!” cried the Bear.

“Stop! Ox, don’t let her—”

“For order defiled!”

Blood spurted across the white rock.

The blade clicked through Anji’s bone.