As Nyx and Ethel crossed the greenhouse garden, passed between tomato vines on lattices, Nyx felt the frustration in their own breath and hissing out their nostrils. They felt the careless way their arms swung, their shoulders falling forward.

Sometimes they really didn’t feel like talking to Ethel. She was blunt, unencouraging, and relentless—and when this proved irritating, her mildness only made it worse. But it felt vital to feel vulnerable right around now, and in a similar way, it felt vital to talk with her in more depth.

Nyx noticed Ethel studying them as they walked.

“Uh...what?” they asked, breaking a long silence.

“Oh, uh, I was just studying your walk.”

“I got that part. So, uh...what did you see?”

Ethel coughed. “Well, I’ve been seeing you in a different light lately, physically more than psychologically. I mentally compared you to a ‘behemoth’ several minutes ago, which I bet can be considered a compliment among demons. In this case, it conveys a draconic strength just as much as it conveys a sense of lingering alienation between us. In effect,” she concluded, “the way you walk right now gives me the impression that you’re a hulking turtlebeast in an attractive, feminine, human-shaped body.”

Nyx sifted through the words for a moment. “You used the word ‘attractive,’” they said. “Are you...trying to get at something, there?”

“...Am I?...” Ethel trailed off, apparently actually wondering.

Nyx opened a door, and the world of the kitchen opened before them. All the familiar hanging pots and pans appeared like black windchimes. A few that hadn’t seen use for years now had recent dents and scratches—as true a testament as any to Ethel’s presence in the castle.

In the sink, the dishes of Nyx’s half-eaten breakfast sat undone. Felicity was late to her post, evidently. The oven was already on and, by the feel of the room temperature, broiling. Beside the leaking heat was Dodd’s frozen body, balanced against the wall of it like a rebel without a cause. She stood atop a slight puddle of water.

“Are you sure that’s all you can do for her?” said Ethel. If her absolute-zero curse was never going to fade, they might as well have never taken her from the auction house at all.

“Yeah, well...for now,” said Nyx. “It’s not an impenetrable freeze, but we might have to dunk her in the furnace later... Kinda messed up by not crossing the threshold of the front door. I think they accepted the transaction but just didn’t deactivate the spell.”

“You’re not making sense to me.”

“Oh, right!” Nyx snapped hard to attention. “I forgot I never told you about the auction! Or fucking anything!”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

“And you don’t have to keep saying that. Get some snacks and come on.”

Nyx grabbed some cold orange juice. Ethel grabbed water and some cold, rubbery pizza poppers (she claimed to like them better when lukewarm or worse). They disappeared into the living room.

Blankets had been folded and stashed neatly in a treasure chest that doubled as an ottoman. Nyx decided not to start the fireplace—the light from the chandeliers was more than enough. As a matter of fact, the last candle was just being lit when the two entered.

Nyx looked up and cried, “Felicity!?”

The wood imp was balanced high on a stepladder, lighting candles with a long iron firestick. “I’m okay,” she hollered down, despite the suspicious black marks on her left horn. This was the true price of Dodd’s absence.

“Why don’t you get Agi to do it?”

“He’s out until seskapedioxen—I mean until...four fifty-seven in Gaian time.”

Nyx groaned.

“It’s for the greater good of the castle,” said Ethel. “Just because you hate the concept of Agi going out doesn’t mean the concept isn’t useful.”

“You don’t know what he did at the auction,” they said, eyes newly weary.

“I do, actually...a little...from Agi’s side of it. And I can’t find the tags—where are they?”

G’eugh! The tags! Nyx felt shocked into awareness again. That was the whole reason their servants were painting the walls with a near-random assortment of defensive hexes in the first place.

It was also a big reason why Nyx was struggling to redouble their efforts on the goal of becoming a demon lord—because if they didn’t, no way would they be strong enough to fight off the coming flood of demons anxious to get their irreplaceable collectibles back. At least they weren't likely to come immediately. Death in six months is better than death now, but neither is good.

“Well, Ethel, sit over there and I’ll tell you all about it,” they said glumly. “And the days before then. And the mind dealer, and the surgery. And the ambush by those really weak demimanders...”

“We have an entire trip-to-Farander’s worth of time to talk about this,” said Ethel. “You can prioritize.”

“I don’t need to. If anything, you need to get caught up. Think of this as a stage of preparation.”

If they could stay on the same page, maybe they could more easily keep on the right foot. They set their ankles on the treasure-chest ottoman and talked.