Kaveh was having a very difficult time connecting this request, that by “him,” she meant Nikola, and she was requesting that he physically move the half-ton, nine-foot, spider-handed, jet-black alien that more resembled a dragon than a human . . . somewhere else. “Get him out . . . where?”

“Please, I wouldn’t ask this if it weren’t life or death.”

“Take him fucking where, Cora?”

“I don’t know! Into the woods? The desert? Somewhere where there aren’t humans? Please, please, I’m begging you, I have to be alone with Ampersand to reason with him, Nikola can’t be here when he wakes up, and we can’t leave Nikola alone to his own devices. Please.”

He continued to stare at her, mouth still hanging open. Nikola, for his part, seemed down for whatever. Like, Hey, man, you guys do what you want. I’m just happy to be here.

Kaveh turned on his heels, marched into the garage, and surveyed the situation in the Land Rover. He dragged out everything in the back, shoving it on the floor in the garage and flattening the back seats. Then, not making eye contact with either Nikola or Cora, who was still rooted in place with her hands clasped in front of her, he marched right back upstairs. He took a piss, grabbed a pair of jeans, an undershirt, and a sweater, and ran back downstairs. He looked at Cora, struggling not to load his glare with accusation, and it was very much a glare. Then he approached Nikola.

Kaveh knew it was hypocritical to be afraid, considering how many hours he’d spent in that cave where he had the power, where he was the one with the ability to do real harm to the vulnerable, restrained Nikola. Now the tables were turned, Nikola was standing in his TV room at both his full majesty and his full power, and Kaveh was afraid of him. He couldn’t help it. Nikola was, by every meaningful human metric, terrifying to be in the same room with. Throw some tentacles on him somewhere and anyone would collapse into Lovecraftian madness.

“Nik,” he said, swallowing his terror as best as he could. “If I asked you to get into my vehicle, would you do it? Would you let me drive you . . . somewhere?”

“IF IT PLEASES YOU, DEAR CLEVER CREATURE.”

“Okay,” he said, turning without hesitation, because he knew if he hesitated that he might not go through with it. What else could he do? He couldn’t say he hadn’t brought this on himself. He had asked for access to Nikola, had volunteered himself as support. How had he not brought this on himself?