“That’s … a good lesson.” Maya took a deep breath, in spite of the pain. “I can’t let you do it, though. You know that.”

“I know.”

Maya hesitated, then blurted out, “There’s no point in asking you to come back with me, is there?” She blinked, feeling tears in her eyes. “You don’t have to live … like this. We could try to fix what’s wrong with the Order.”

“Would you come with me? Leave your haken behind, travel out into the Splinter Kingdoms, never look back?”

“No,” Maya said, looking down.

Gyre gave a small shrug. “Then it seems likely we’ll meet again. Somewhere.”

“Somewhere,” Maya said. She shook her head. “If you ever want to meet me without a sword in your hand, get word to the palace in Deepfire. I’ll let them know that if someone named Silvereye sends a message, they should pass it on.”

“All right.” Gyre started to turn away, hesitated. “Can I hug you, do you think, without squeezing your guts out?”

Maya gave a weak smile. “Beq said hugs are okay, as long as they’re gentle.”

Gyre stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Maya clasped hers at the small of his back, pressing her face into his neck.

“I missed you,” he said, very softly. “Every day since they took you away.”

Maya’s throat worked. “I missed you too.”

“I hope …” He paused. “Who knows. Be well, Maya Burningblade.”

“Be well, Gyre Silvereye.” Maya pulled away from him, wiped her tears, and sniffed. Gyre turned away, slowly, and walked up the slope, the constructs following behind him.

Be well, Gyre, Maya thought as he passed out of sight. I really hope I don’t have to kill you.

Gyre

“You should have killed her, you know. While you had the chance.”

Gyre wiped his real eye and straightened up. He felt something tugging on the leg of his trousers, then climbing the side of his body, little claws digging at the leather of his clothes. A tiny spiderlike construct, barely the size of a cat, finished its ascent and settled comfortably on his shoulder.

“Probably,” Gyre said.

“Too sentimental, that’s your problem,” the little thing said. The voice still didn’t sound much like Kit’s, but it was improving rapidly.

“Speaking of which,” Gyre said. “Have you made your decision?”

“You could have asked me at the time,” Kit said.

“I think you’d just stopped breathing,” Gyre said. “It didn’t seem like the best moment.” He shook his head and turned to look at the little thing. “I mean it, though. I didn’t know if you’d want to … live, like this. I can go back to poor crippled Leviathan, find the Core Analytica, and take it apart. Then you can find your doom at last, if that’s what you want.”