Behind, on the beach, two lovers lay between the legs of a tall stone Penitent, sand covered and kissing. The idol’s teeth, she remembered, had torn her lips. The island is our prison. Howl, bound world.

“I wanted to ask him about his poem. That’s all. I heard the line somewhere.”

“Likely. It’s famous. Become famous, fast.”

Was that it? Had she overheard the words, seen them in a magazine perhaps, woven them into her dreams? Was Jace right? Had blood loss and panic blurred memories together? “Just wanted to talk to him, that’s all.”

“Mainlanders have a saying about good intentions.”

“Road to hell’s paved with them?”

“I’ve been there,” he said, “and it ain’t. But even wrong sayings have a point. Maybe you should take it easy.”

“I came here to get drunk and pity myself. Without the second what’s the point of the first?”

“You came here,” Mako said. “That’s the important thing. But you’ve been cooped up too long, and you want to do everything at once, and if you try half of that you’ll break yourself so bad even the madmen up the mountain won’t be able to put you back together again.”

She laughed. “Blasphemer.”

“I fought gods and demons with these hands.” He laid them palms down on the table. His right third finger jagged at a sharp angle from the joint; his left pinkie would not lie flat. Dirt caked his nails. “I’ve earned blasphemy. Sleep and come back in a few days. Don’t take everything so fast. If you wake up tomorrow morning with Makawe’s own headache, vomiting your guts all over those nice silk sheets, you’ll blame me for it and you won’t come down here again for months. I’d miss you.”

“My sheets are cotton.”

“Don’t storm the beaches, Kai. Never ends well.”

“Nice. Patronizing.”

“‘Patronizing’s’ an interesting word. You think I’m acting like I’m your father, or like you’re a rich idiot who needs to be told what’s what about art?”

“Both, I guess.” She let go of her head. “Maybe you’re right.” She stood with the cane’s aid, and while the muscles in her side protested and pulled, she managed to hold herself up, and even took a step without falling. She left coin on the table with enough soulstuff to cover her tab. Nothing tied her here now. She did not have to lean far over to touch the old man’s crooked hand. “I’ll see you, Mako.”

“Thanks for the drinks.”

Margot stepped back onto the stage, into the burning spot. A light rain of applause fell. He removed his hat. Sweat beaded his forehead. Lips tightened, opened, a pink tip of tongue darted out to wet them. Thick hands wrung his hat brim.

I didn’t ask to be here