“Saracen, I’m telling you, Steph isn’t a consolation prize, OK?”

Saracen smiled, satisfied. “Good. Good man.”

Vex rejoined them. “What are we talking about?”

“Fletcher is experiencing conflicting emotions over Valkyrie’s return and what it means for his relationship with Stephanie,” Donegan informed him.

“Gotcha,” said Vex.

“It must be weird, though,” said Gracious. “Going out with Stephanie when we all thought Val was gone … that’s one thing. But going out with her now that Val is back … well. That’s weird, isn’t it? Isn’t that weird? It’s going to be weird for Valkyrie.”

Dai nodded. “Going to be very weird for Valkyrie.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” said Fletcher. “It’d just be like if I were going out with her identical twin sister, if she had one.”

“But even that’s weird,” said Donegan.

“That is weird,” said Gracious.

“You’re looking at this all wrong,” Fletcher said. “Val is fine with this. Or she will be.”

Saracen raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t know?”

“About me and Steph? Not in so many … no.”

“Are you going to tell her?” Gracious asked. “Or will Stephanie?”

“Can I tell her?” Saracen asked. “I’d love to see her face.”

“I’ll tell her,” Fletcher said, glaring. “I just haven’t had the chance, that’s all. A lot’s been going on, and now we’re back hunting for Remnants and … I just have to wait for the right moment.”

“When you tell her,” said Donegan, “do you think she’ll hit you?”

“No,” Fletcher snapped. “At least I hope not.”

“Buy her something to soften the blow,” Gracious advised. “Here, what should Fletcher buy Valkyrie to soften the blow?”

“Something she can’t throw at him,” said Vex. “Like a kitten. I used to have a kitten, her name was Sabrina, and she used to dig her claws into me whenever she sat on my lap. I wanted to throw her across the room every single time, but I didn’t. Because she was a kitten, and she was cute. So buy her a kitten. Or an ostrich.”

Saracen stopped walking. “OK,” he said. “Something’s wrong here.”

Donegan looked up hopefully. “Is your divining rod buzzing?”

“No, my bloody divining rod isn’t buzzing,” Saracen said, throwing down his twig. “Follow me. And be careful.”

They followed him out to the street. A small child sat in the middle of the empty road, head raised to the night sky. He was singing to himself, his soft voice carrying on the breeze.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are …”

“Right,” said Gracious. “Because that’s not creepy at all.”

Wary of an ambush, they walked out till they were standing in a line. Eventually the boy stopped singing, and looked at them. Black veins riddled his smiling face like an insane jigsaw.

“You should run,” the boy said.