She steadied herself. This wasn’t like her. She was a member of the Godhead, second only to one being in their known world. She’d completely mastered the Flaring discipline, and it shamed her that she’d let herself get in such a state. Quickly going through the mathematical digits and the breathing exercises, she calmed every part of her body and mind. Mikhail was beneath her in the hierarchy.

Alexandra became herself again.

She left the shadows of the rubble and walked briskly into the openness of the Glade, heading in a straight and confident line toward Mikhail and the Box. The weak light of the false sun lit the way.

“Mikhail!” she shouted, manipulating her voice with command even though it would have no effect on her counterpart. “What could possibly be going through your head? Coming here? Without even telling me? Stop acting like a damn nun and get off your knees!” She didn’t slow down as she spoke, marching as if into battle.

Mikhail didn’t move in the slightest, his training too strong to react to her provocation.

She finally reached him, came to a stop just a few feet away from his prone body.

“Mikhail,” she said, on the brink of striking the man, hard. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Please tell me you didn’t have another vision. Please tell me you’re not here to open that Box and start a process we have no need to start. Something we won’t be able to stop.”

Mikhail still didn’t respond—didn’t show the smallest sign he’d heard her. He was a tall man, bulky with muscle despite his age. His gray hair was slicked back, mostly full, but she could see the beginnings of a bald spot right at the crown. He had a smell that she couldn’t explain, and even now it assaulted her senses. If the decaying of a soul had a scent, Mikhail exuded it in spades. She’d never been able to put her finger on it exactly, but she just really didn’t like this man.

“Mikhail,” she said. “Mikhail!”

“Alexandra.” He spoke so softly, with so much control. “I’m glad that you came. Please. Join me in prayer. Things are about to happen. I’ve had another vision of the ship, floating upon the ocean, heading here. It brings change and death.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off of his sprouting bald spot. “Mikhail, it’s just me. There’s no one else here. Stop the charade. I’m here and willing to talk. Willing to listen. Visions, prayers, gods and demons, whatever you want. But we need to step away from the Box. We need to be many, many steps away from the Box. Deal?”