“Wow,” Kit said, over Gyre’s shoulder. “No wonder your people unleashed the Plague.”

Naumoriel’s head snapped around, and his smile faded. “Do not speak of what you have no means to understand, girl.” He waved a hand, and the big construct’s tentacular arms stretched down to lift him up into their embrace. “We leave at first light.”

“Come on,” Kit said, “let’s get the tents up.”

The ghouls, it turned out, had provided two neat little tents, made of some shiny material lighter than cloth but as waterproof as oiled leather. No sooner had they driven the pegs into the earth than Kit dove inside hers and buttoned the flap. Gyre stared after her for a moment, then sighed and went back for a few more fungus balls.

In spite of the long walk, some instinct kept him from falling asleep. He lay on his back and stared upward, silver eye showing him the ceiling in perfect clarity. After perhaps an hour, he heard shuffling outside and then a rustle at the tent flap.

Kit pushed her way in, wrapped in one of the warm, lightweight blankets the ghouls had provided. She wormed her way up beside him and propped herself on one elbow.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly.

“Hi yourself,” Gyre said. “What’s the matter, are you cold again?”

“Not really.”

“Nightmares, then?”

“Sometimes.” Kit sat up, her head nearly brushing the ceiling, and disentangled herself from the blanket. She was naked underneath. “But not tonight.”

She bent down and kissed him, fast and hungry. Her hand spidered across his chest, slipped down to his waist, and expertly popped the button on his trousers. Before it could plunge beneath them, he caught her by the wrist, and she pulled away a fraction.

“What?” she said.

“Is this another … what did you call it? Moment of weakness?”

“I mean. Probably. So?” A sly tone entered her voice. “Sorry, did that hurt your poor little pride? Here, let me make it better.” She grabbed for his cock, and he yanked her hand away. “Ow!”

“Kit,” Gyre said, letting go. “What are you doing?”

“I thought I was coming over for a quick fuck. Maybe to be followed by a longer fuck.”

“I mean … all of this. The way you’ve been talking to Naumoriel.” Gyre sat up himself. “You didn’t raise any objection when he refused to fix your heart until after this new mission.”

“Do we really have to talk about this now?” Kit said. “It’s been a long day and I think I am actually dripping, so if we could just—”

“Kit.”

“Fine!” She threw her hands in the air and drew her knees up to her chin. “I was going to talk to you later anyway. I just wanted to make sure he was asleep out there. I have no idea how much he can hear.”

“What don’t you want Naumoriel to hear?”