Stepping into the dark shade cast by a new alcove and the rising tunnel beyond, Bee followed the injured, crawling warrior. She looked down at the silent Eidolon, who took deep shuddering breaths on her hands and knees. Bee looked over her, and her pale skin was red raw and blistering, even from the minor exposure to the hated daystar. She clutched at her cloak, trying to hide beneath it.

The young Bee listened to the warrior’s pained noises while kneeling beside her. Then Bee saw it, a wedge of heavy shell, fractured and fallen onto the ground. Remembering her capture and her treatment at their brutish hands, the young vat-born considered taking it up. Regarding the back of the Eidolon’s head, it would be easy, really. Take the heavy stone and smack the injured warrior across the skull again and again until she stops breathing. Bee could justify it as revenge, self-preservation, or anything really. Ay would probably have encouraged her to do it, she thought. So there was no need to risk getting captured again. But instead, Bee closed her eyes and sighed. She didn’t want to be that sort of person.

“I didn’t want to leave you there, with them,” Bee said instead.

The warrior shuddered, and metallic silver fluid seeped from her wounds as they gradually mended. So the vat-born continued.

“With the hounds, I mean. I think I led them there. One caught me earlier, but he cut my back, then let me go. I think they can smell my blood, or something.”

Bee thought she saw the Eidolon nod beneath her hood.

“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt,” Bee said quietly. “But they didn’t listen to me. I told them there was a hound. I didn’t want to let you fall, either, especially not after you saved me.”

The Eidolon suddenly turned, grasping Bee’s forearm against hers, fingers curled around her elbow. She tapped her fingertips in silent language.

“You have honour,” the Eidolon said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Bee replied with her fingers on the warrior’s skin in turn.

But the Eidolon stood tall and gently pulled the vat-born until the young one thought she was standing. Then, however, the warrior urged her up, further still, until she stood on just her feet, legs long, back straight, and her wings cast back.

“Stand tall,” the Eidolon silently said as she did so. “You are a Goddess, beautiful.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are the Vat-Mother of Sestchek’s true daughter, are you not?”

“I am.”

The twelve eyes of the Eidolon locked with hers.

“Then you are worthy of worship. Please, do not crawl.”

A fluttering in her chest, a warmth in her cheeks, Bee blushed through the silvering skin of her cheeks. This warrior who had protected her said such things, such wonderful things. Could they actually be true? Or was this another trick, like the outsiders of the oasis?

Bee marvelled that she was almost as tall as the Eidolon when a sudden wave of nausea came over her. Quickly, she stumbled aside, breaking contact with the Eidolon to put her hand on the wall for balance. She wretched, vomiting yet again down onto the floor. The phage burnt the shell there as it splashed. Despite recognising the danger that the hostile particles in the fluid posed as it penetrated the city - killing it, the Eidolon held back the young vat-born’s hair and patted her back.

Only when Bee was done, cringing at the acrid taste in her mouth, did the Eidolon put a hand on her shoulder and tap in language.

“How long has this been happening?”

“Since I woke up here.”

“I want you to come with me.”

“No!”

Swinging her amputated wrist to get the Eidolon’s hand off her shoulder, Bee put her hand over her mouth as she faltered but managed to continue.

“I’m not your prisoner. I refuse.”

The Eidolon then squared up to her, silently questioning that sentiment. Bee backed up until her wings and the flutes on her back touched the wall. Her eyes darted towards the daylight of the chasm so close by.

“Why should I? I don’t think I’d be safe if you’re with them. You said I’m a Goddess, right? So tell me, would I be safe?”

Bee looked up to those twelve yellow eyes. The silent warrior didn’t answer. Instead, she looked down, aside, weighing that question.

“Would I be safe?” Bee demanded an answer.

The Eidolon shook her head, seeming deep in some terrible thought.

“Well then I’m going my own way, thank you very much!”

The Eidolon snatched Bee’s arm again, but she didn’t grip it, instead insisting on a return to silent communication.

“I could not slay the hounds. You are not safe on your own,” the Eidolon said.

“I’ll take my chances,” Bee said, looking away.

“Your wellbeing is paramount,” the Eidolon continued. “Worse still, they may attempt to make you into a lure, again. They seem to understand who you are. They know that their enemies want you. People will be hurt.”

Bee’s resistance cracked. She looked up at the Eidolon with sad eyes.

“I will take you to safety, a neutral place where the hounds will not dare to follow and where you will not be captured again,” the Eidolon offered. “If you allow me to do that, then we can decide on our next steps together.”

“How can I trust you?”

“You have my word as my oath,” the Eidolon tapped slowly and deliberately. “I shall never allow harm to come to you.”

Bee narrowed her eyes at the Eidolon, grimacing, then huffing. For some reason, she trusted her, even after she shook her head to dispel the stupidity of it.

“Fine. Where are we going?”

The Eidolon’s prehensile teeth chittered, and she paused before answering.

“To the temple of your family.”