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“It’s going to bite you,” Kingfisher said. “No, it won’t. It—” It bit me.
“We were just moving some furniture around, that’s all. But then Fisher decided he preferred it the way it was, so… so we moved it all back again.”
Clenching his jaw, he spun around, his eyes searching the horizon for gods only knows what. Had he heard something? Some promise of danger that my inferior human hearing hadn’t detected? “Fisher. Hey! What’s wrong?” When he faced me again, his eyes were almost fully black, his pupils blown wide open. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Find the forge and get to work. Everything’s already waiting there for you. I’ll expect a report at lunchtime.” He stormed away without a backward glance.
“And I’m not worried, either. Truth is, I plan on dying first, anyway. But if the fates guide the stars in a different direction and our better angels claim him first, I won’t permit a single breath into my body beyond the last one Kingfisher takes. By my own hand, I’ll make sure the piece of soul he loaned to me finds its way back to him. And if the fates consider it just, and I’ve done enough to earn a place at his side, I’ll go quietly and happily with my brother into whatever lies beyond.”
“When I imagine you, Little Osha, you’re very rarely wearing clothes.”

