That was never true, Anonoei knew it. In all her years as a manmage, she had always taken what she could, or at least what she needed. She hadn’t asked.

Yet now she could sense how Danny insinuated himself into Bexoi’s body, even though it was a woman’s body and Danny was no manmage. He didn’t take control of anything. He offered himself to the bits out of which the body was made, like a man reaching over a cliff to offer a hand to someone who was clinging to a single vine. Take this! he was saying. Take hold of this and don’t let go. But at no point was Danny forcing the body to fragment itself, to choose between following Bexoi or himself. It was only an offer: See what’s possible. See if this would please you better. See what I am.

And to Anonoei’s surprise, she could feel the body responding. At a level deeper and more primitive than mere physical sensation, she could sense how the body was becoming more and more responsive to Danny.

But Danny doesn’t need this body. I need it. It’s all I’ve got, and I don’t have it.

That is right, said Danny, without sound, without words. You haven’t “got” anything at all. The best you can hope for is that this bone house will invite you to be mistress here. But this is how you offer yourself.

It wants you, thought Anonoei. Look how each part you touch leaps out to meet you. Like a magnet drawing iron filings to itself.

You do it, said Danny. The body wants to be part of something better than Bexoi. It’s weary of leading a monster’s life.

But how could he know that? And why was he so sure that Anonoei herself was not just as monstrous?

That very doubt is proof that you are not like Bexoi. The very idea that something you want might not be right says that you believe yourself to be part of a larger world. That you’re accountable. That something matters more than you do.

My children, thought Anonoei.

But no, that was not enough. Her sons were part of her. Their survival was her survival.

What is it that tells me there are some things that I mustn’t do? Can’t do? Don’t want to do.

What if I’m as bad as Bexoi? What if this body would be trading one evil for another? A strong mistress for a weak one who was no better?

Even as she doubted herself, she reached out into the body as Danny had done. Into the deep places, the tiny places, the unfathomable depths of the body, where the tiny selves clung to her like dust.

They don’t find me despicable.

Her surprise, her gratitude seemed to draw more of them.

But not the brightest of them.