“There’s something haptic in there. Sense-sharing, binding biology, not all that different from what I do with the tactile feedback pads.”

“Yeah. Parasites.”

“The tongue in the wall infects you?” he asked, with a note of alarm in his voice.

“Oh my god,” Parian said.

“Yuck,” Candy said.

“Basically infection,” I said, trying to sound as casual as ‘infection’ warranted. “Sure.”

“She’s lying,” Candy said.

Fucking fucker emotion readers. The ones who weren’t Dean sucked. I shot Candy a look, and Precipice noticed.

“What the hell, Antares?” Precipice asked. “I need accurate info for my scans.”

“Fine. We’ll talk about it later. Your scans don’t matter until we get back to your workshop anyway, right? It’s not like you’re calibrating anything in the field.”

He was a grim kind of silent as he jogged along.

The tinkling music box chimes had come to an outright stop. The thudding persisted, but it was more general and dull than it had been. Less of a sound like someone banging against the walls, less of a heartbeat, and more of a distant pounding.

Not that we had walls here, per se. The storm drain was a concrete tube with iced-over water in the bottom tenth of it, and a whole lot of dirt and pavement in the area immediately around it.

“Assimilation?” Precipice asked.

“No,” I said. “Can we drop it? Let’s hide out, figure out what we’re doing, figure out which of the teams is being targeted, and then mobilize. Hopefully without ever having to deal with Nursery again.”

“Is it a lotophage thing? Pulling people into a specific, themed dream state?”

“Fuck me, Precipice,” I said. “You can’t let it go?”

“I’m stubborn. It’s the only thing I really have going for me. Knowing would help me interpret my scans. I can potentially use this!”

“Then, again, I’ll explain when we’re back at your workshop.”

Foil cleared her throat. “I’d like to know.”

“It would help to counter it,” Parian said.

I didn’t want to talk about it because it bothered me. I didn’t want to picture what it involved. That gorge was closer to being in my throat now, to the point it hurt to swallow.

“Not assimilate, not exactly infect. Not… whatever you just said.”

“Lotophage. Lotus Eaters? The Odyssey?” Precipice suggested.

“I never read the Odyssey. Only got what came up in adaptations,” I said. I paused. “Impregnate.”

“Uh what the fuck?” Precipice asked.

“That’s the theme,” I said. “Close to infect, really, but—”

“What the fuck?” he asked.

“I’m not good with the ick,” Foil said. “The Dolltown victims were almost too much for me. Parian knows. I’d always prefer riding Parian’s dolls instead of Bitch’s dogs.”

“Wouldn’t anyone?” I asked.

“Not Bitch. Not a few other people, believe it or not.”