What had Altantsetseg said about her faulty translator? That it keeps people at a distance. And that’s where Ha had put her—at a distance. It was easier to do that than to admit that all of this—all Ha’s hope for a breakthrough, and any hope the Shapesinger and her kind had—rested on violence. On Altantsetseg’s ability to wield violence, to direct it against the people who would destroy this sanctuary.

It was easier to pretend that Altantsetseg was an individual, that all of her choices were her own, than to admit that Altantsetseg was a part of them. That all of them were, in fact, bound together so tightly that they formed a single entity, incapable of functioning—incapable of surviving—without all of its interlocking parts in place.

The alarm sounded again. Altantsetseg’s voice crackled from a commlink over the door.

“Signals on beach, and near hotel. Much movement. You stay in safe room.”

“On the beach?” Evrim said. “That doesn’t make sense. Those explosions were at the sea perimeter. Just another ship trying to break into the protected waters.”

“No. I saw people. Closing in on the hotel,” Ha said. “The shore perimeter has been breached.”

There was a crash outside the hotel, a rending sound like metal being shifted.

“Stay in safe room,” the voice said over the commlink again.

“Here we are,” Ha said, “telling stories around the campfire to fend off the terrors of the dark.”

“I am not afraid,” Evrim said. “Dr. Mínervudóttir-Chan minimized that in me. It’s counterproductive. She allowed me just enough to keep me from being reckless.”

“But you are reckless,” Ha said. “Who else would walk, at night, alone, into the water out there?”

“It seemed like a reasonable decision at the time.”

There was a short burst of gunfire, muffled by the walls of the hotel.

“Where is she? Dr. Mínervudóttir-Chan? She should be here.”

“She must be with Altantsetseg. Out there.”

Talk about something else. The altar. Anything. Don’t talk about “out there.”

“I was thinking … the thing we saw. It might be an altar,” Ha said. “But maybe not. I’m applying our logic where I shouldn’t be. But all we have are our own metaphors. That’s the first one that came to mind.”

“The skulls…,” Evrim said.