Kandis woke to sunlight through narrow tower windows and the smell of something cooking.

  For a moment, she didn't remember where she was. The bed was too soft, the room too quiet, the air too still. Then memory returned. Jonas's tower. The brain-eating parasite. The deal to save Hawth.

  And the mortifying confession about Forge that still made her want to disappear.

  She sat up, groaning. Every muscle ached from two days in the swamp. Her back protested. Her legs felt like they'd been beaten. But she'd slept hard, deep, the kind of unconsciousness that came from total exhaustion finally being allowed to rest.

  The cooking smell was stronger now. Bread, maybe. Something simple but real.

  Kandis dressed in the same clothes from yesterday. She'd need to return to Hawth soon for fresh supplies. For now, she made do with what she had.

  The second floor kitchen revealed Jake at the stove, looking startlingly normal. Still thin, but functional. Color in his face. Strength in his movements. The skeletal horror from yesterday was gone, replaced by someone who could pass for human if you didn't look too closely.

  "Morning," Jake said without turning. "There's bread. Some cheese I found that's probably still good. Water that's definitely safe."

  "You're cooking," Kandis observed.

  "I'm heating bread someone else made weeks ago. Let's not oversell my skills." Jake turned, offering a plate. "But yes, I remembered to eat. Three times since you made me that stew. Wrote myself a note to ensure I didn't forget. See? Learning."

  Despite herself, Kandis almost smiled. "Good. Try not to die today."

  "That's the plan."

  The bread was warm now, better than the stale preserved food she'd expected. The cheese was sharp, aged well. Different from the stew last night. Actual breakfast instead of just survival fuel.

  Forge appeared a few minutes later, looking better rested. He nodded to both of them, took offered food, ate standing by the window. The three of them existing in the same space without awkwardness.

  Almost without awkwardness. Kandis caught Forge glancing at her once, expression careful. The accidental confession hanging between them unaddressed.

  Later. They'd deal with that later. If they survived.

  "The journal," Kandis said, finishing her meal. "We should read it. Figure out what we're actually dealing with."

  Jake's expression shifted. Became guarded. "It's in Jonas's bedroom. Third floor. Where I've been sleeping."

  "You're not going to read it yourself?"

  "No." Jake's voice was firm. "I can't. Won't risk it."

  "Risk what?" Kandis studied him. Saw genuine concern. Actual fear.

  Jake stood. "Come on. I'll explain on the way up."

  They climbed to the third floor, Jake leading. He stopped outside the bedroom door, not entering yet.

  "Okay, so," Jake started. His voice had that awkward quality of someone trying to explain something complicated in simple terms. "I don't know how much you know about human bodies. About how they work. But I learned some things back on Earth. Basic biology class. Random facts you pick up."

  "I know the basics," Kandis said. "Heart pumps blood. Lungs breathe air. Brain controls everything."

  "Right. The brain. Except here's the thing I learned that most people don't know." Jake gestured vaguely at his midsection. "You have a second brain. In your gut. Your stomach area."

  Kandis exchanged a glance with Forge. "A second brain?"

  "Not like the one in your head," Jake clarified quickly. "Smaller. Different. But real. It's called the enteric nervous system. It has millions of neurons. Not as many as your head-brain, but more than some entire animals have in their whole bodies."

  "What does it do?" Forge asked.

  "It processes food, obviously. But it also does other things. It generates feelings. Instincts. What people call gut feelings? Those are literal. Your gut-brain is actually telling you things. Communicating with your head-brain constantly."

  Kandis was starting to understand. "And you consumed Jonas's head-brain."

  "No, I destroyed it. But I read through a few of his memories while I was in there, saw images and sounds, but I didn't consume those memories. Didn't integrate them. Because if I had, Jonas would have become a part of me." Jake's hands clenched. "But his gut-brain is still there. Still active. Still holding all the knowledge and feelings and instincts that I didn't take."

  "So there are pieces of Jonas left," Forge said slowly.

  "Yes. And they're broadcasting. I can feel it sometimes. Technical knowledge appearing from nowhere. Understanding of magic I shouldn't have. Jonas's expertise just surfacing like it's mine." Jake's voice went quieter. "And other things. His desires. His nature. His fundamental understanding of what bodies are for."

  He paused. Then added, "His thoughts about how to break specific bones for maximum flexibility. How to position corpses. What uses dead things have."

  The revulsion in Jake's voice was clear.

  "You want to consume those fragments," Kandis said. "Get the knowledge. But if you do..."

  "If I do, I don't just get the knowledge. I get everything. Jonas's personality. His instincts. His fundamental nature. It all integrates. Becomes part of me." Jake looked at both of them. "I saw some of his memories, visual stuff. Audio. Like watching someone else's life play back. But I didn't take the feelings behind them. The context. The understanding. That's all gone now, but some of Jonas is still in the gut-brain, waiting."

  "And reading the journal might trigger it," Kandis said, understanding now.

  "Seeing his handwriting. His thought patterns written down. His justifications." Jake gestured at the bedroom door. "It might make those fragments stronger. Might let them surface more. Might make it harder to resist consuming them." He met Kandis's eyes. "There's an old saying from where I come from. ‘What profits a man to gain the whole world and lose his own soul?’ That's what consuming Jonas's gut-brain would do. I'd gain all his instincts. And lose myself."

  The silence was heavy.

  "So you want me to read it," Kandis said.

  "I need you to read it. Extract the information. Tell me what's useful." Jake finally opened the bedroom door. "And we'll hope that bastard stays buried where he belongs."

  The bedroom was simple but large. Bed, wardrobe, small desk near the window. And on the desk, a leather-bound journal. Innocuous. Dangerous.

  Jake moved to the far corner. Put maximum distance between himself and the journal. Wouldn't even look at it directly.

  Kandis approached the desk. Opened the journal carefully. The handwriting inside was neat, precise. Dated entries spanning years.

  "All right," she said, settling into the chair. "Let's see what Jonas wanted us to know."

  - - -

  The first entry was dated twenty-three years ago. The year of the Culling. The handwriting was younger, less refined, but recognizable.

  Kandis read aloud.

  "They took me and gave me this. A Journal to write in. The Serpent Lords. I guess I’m supposed to tell myself what has happened. So here it is. I was in the market with Mother when they came. She tried to hide me but they saw. They always see. I'm twelve years old and I don't know if I'll ever see Hawth again."

  Her voice was steady despite the content. Clinical. This was information gathering, not emotional processing.

  "Next entry, two days later: The experiments started. They want to know how human magic works. How our bodies respond to different stimuli. They're kind about it. Explain everything. Tell me it's for the greater good. That understanding humans helps them protect us better."

  Jake made a sound from across the room. Bitter. Disgusted.

  "Entry one week in," Kandis continued. "They offered me a deal today. Learn necromancy. Become useful. Report on Hawth when I eventually return. They'll teach me power. Give me knowledge. Make me important. The alternative is more experiments. The choice seems obvious."

  "He was twelve," Forge said quietly. "Just a kid."

  "A kid who made a choice," Jake said from the corner. His voice was strained. "A choice he kept making for twenty-three years."

  Kandis flipped pages. More entries. Jonas learning necromancy. Excelling at it. Finding purpose in the power. Convincing himself he was special, chosen, important.

  "Entry from six months later: I'm good at this. Better than they expected. The Serpent Lords are pleased. They say I have potential. That I could be valuable. I'll go back to Hawth eventually. Spy for them. But it's not betrayal if I'm protecting the town. Giving them what they want keeps them from destroying everything. I'm helping. I'm a hero!"

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  The self-delusion was already forming. Kandis could see it in the writing. The justifications. The rationalizations. The desperate need to be important mixed with the trauma of capture and experimentation.

  Jake was silent. Too silent. Kandis glanced at him, saw his expression strained. Fighting something.

  She kept reading. Years of entries. Jonas returning to Hawth at fifteen, officially "exiled" for practicing necromancy. Building his tower. Establishing his cover. Reporting every three months when representatives visited.

  The entries were clinical. Population counts. Resource assessments. Who was causing trouble, who was compliant. Names of people who spoke against Pantathian rule.

  "He named them," Forge said. His voice was dangerous. "People who resisted. He gave them names."

  "And they disappeared," Kandis confirmed, reading ahead. "Entry here from eight years ago: Told the representative about the three fishermen organizing resistance. They were removed. Hawth is safer now. More stable. They even agreed to give me one! This is necessary."

  The anger was building in her chest. Carefully controlled but present. Jonas had been reporting on them for decades. Giving the Serpent Lords everything they needed to maintain control.

  She kept reading. The entries became more detailed. Jonas's experiments in the basement. His studies of life and death. His growing power and growing isolation.

  Then, eight months ago, the tone shifted.

  "I proposed the solution today," Kandis read. Her voice had gone flat. "Turn Hawth into a sustainable workforce. The mine the Serpent Lords discovered requires labor. Humans are inefficient, rebellious, prone to resentment. But undead? Controllable. Tireless. Obedient. I can convert the entire population. Maintain them indefinitely. Give the Pantathians exactly what they need while preserving Hawth in a form that serves everyone."

  Silence filled the bedroom.

  "He wanted to kill us all," Kandis said. The words came out measured. Controlled. "Kill us and raise us as zombies. Make us mine workers. Forever."

  "And that psychopath thought he was the hero?" The question came out harsher than she'd intended.

  Then Jake spoke. But it wasn't Jake's voice.

  "I DID SAVE YOU ALL!"

  The words came with pressure. With power. The fear aura that Jake could project, but stronger. More focused. More practiced.

  "You would have been destroyed a decade ago if it weren't for my intervention! The Serpent Lords wanted to CULL again! Reduce the population! I convinced them to wait! To give me time! To let me find a solution that benefited EVERYONE!"

  Kandis was on her feet, hand going to the knife at her belt. Forge had moved too, positioning himself between her and Jake.

  But Jake's face was horror. His hands were at his throat like he could physically stop the words.

  "I kept them SAFE!" The voice continued, Jonas's justifications pouring out. "Twenty-three years of PROTECTION! Of careful management! Of sacrificing MY humanity so they could keep THEIRS! And this is the gratitude? This is the recognition? I am the HERO of this story! I am the one who..."

  Jake's mouth snapped shut. His whole body shaking with effort. Fighting for control.

  Silence.

  Then Jake's own voice, small and shaken: "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. That wasn't... I didn't..."

  Kandis's heart was pounding. The fear aura had been real. The power behind it undeniable. For a moment, Jonas had been there. Actually there. Speaking through Jake like he'd never died at all.

  "Are you back?" Forge asked carefully. Still positioned protectively.

  "I'm back." Jake's voice was his own again. Strained but recognizable. "Jonas's fragments. The gut-brain. It was the journal. Seeing his words. His justifications written out. It triggered something." His hands were still shaking. "I'm sorry. I should have stayed further away. Should have left the room entirely."

  "But you controlled it," Kandis said. Her tactical mind was working through what she'd just witnessed. "You fought him back. Regained control."

  "Barely." Jake slumped against the wall. "And that was just reading his journal secondhand. If I actually consumed those fragments, actually integrated them..." He trailed off.

  "You'd become him," Forge finished.

  "Or something worse. A fusion. Jake's abilities and memories with Jonas's nature and instincts." Jake looked at them both. "That's the temptation. That's what the gut-brain is offering. All his knowledge. All his magical understanding. All his expertise. I could be so much more powerful. So much more capable."

  "At the cost of your soul," Kandis said quietly.

  "At the cost of my soul," Jake agreed.

  Kandis sat back down slowly. Processed what she'd just seen. The danger of it. The volatility. Jake wasn't just carrying Jonas's body. He was carrying fragments of Jonas's consciousness. Fighting them constantly. One wrong move and Jonas could resurface. Could take over. Could become dominant.

  This was what she'd partnered with. This dangerous, unstable fusion of parasite and necromancer. Powerful beyond measure. Volatile beyond prediction.

  And maybe that was exactly what they needed.

  "Can you handle it?" she asked bluntly. "Can you keep Jonas suppressed while we work through this journal?"

  Jake thought about it. Honest consideration. "I don't know. But I'll try. I have to. We need this information."

  "Then I keep reading," Kandis said. "And you stay in that corner. And if Jonas starts talking again, Forge knocks you unconscious before he can do anything worse. Agreed?"

  "Agreed," Jake said weakly.

  "Agreed," Forge confirmed, hand on his weapon.

  Kandis returned to the journal. Her hands were steadier than she felt. But she'd made her decision. They needed this information. Needed to understand what they were facing. And if that meant risking Jake's stability, then that was the risk they'd take.

  She kept reading. More entries. Jonas refining his plan. Calculating how many bodies he'd need, how much necromantic energy, what infrastructure changes to the tower.

  "He called himself Dreadlord Jonas in these entries," Kandis said, watching Jake carefully for signs of possession. "Planned his zombie army. Designed specific roles for specific people based on their living skills."

  Jake was fighting visibly. Jaw clenched. Hands fisted. But staying quiet. Staying himself.

  "The Pantathians' response," Forge prompted. "What did they say to his proposal?"

  Kandis flipped pages. Found the entry from a little over a month ago.

  "They said they'd consider it. Told him the mine was important. Labor was needed. But orcs were also an option. Stronger bodies, simpler minds, less complicated than maintaining undead." She looked up. "They were comparing options. Zombie humans versus orc labor. Deciding which was more cost-effective."

  "We're livestock," Forge said quietly. "To them, we're just livestock."

  "Yes," Kandis agreed. Because what else could she say? The Pantathians had never pretended otherwise.

  She kept reading. Jonas growing frustrated waiting for a decision. Planning to ask again at the next representative visit. Preparing arguments about why his zombie workforce was superior.

  Then the entries stopped. Three weeks ago. Right before Forge had caught him.

  "That's it," Kandis said. "Last entry is him preparing for the next visit. Expected within the next several weeks. He was going to make his case again. Push harder."

  "Except he died instead," Jake said. His own voice. Controlled. "I killed him. Ate his brain. Took his place."

  "Which means the representative is still coming," Forge said. "Still expects to find Jonas here."

  "In about six weeks," Kandis confirmed. "Jonas wrote 'two months' in his last entry. It's been a week and a half since then. So roughly six and a half weeks until they arrive."

  The weight of that settled over the room.

  "Six weeks to prepare," Jake said. "To figure out how I can consume a Pantathian representative without becoming one."

  "Or we evacuate," Forge said. "Get everyone out before they come."

  "To where?" Kandis heard the bitterness in her own voice. Couldn't help it. "Where do two hundred humans go in the Pentacoast?"

  She stood, moving to the window. Looking out over the swamp that was both prison and home.

  "Mountain Kingdom won't take us," she said, listing the options they'd all considered before. "Those short bastards turn away refugees from Pantathian territory. They have done it for years. Humans are contaminated, and that includes us."

  "Plains Kingdom," Forge offered.

  "Overcrowded. Also xenophobic. Already dealing with their own Pantathian tribute." Kandis shook her head. "They'd see two hundred mouths as burden, not opportunity. Would turn us away or worse, turn us IN to curry favor."

  "Forest Kingdom."

  "Closed their borders fifteen years ago. They shoot refugees on sight now. They decided isolation was safer than accepting anyone from outside." Kandis's hands clenched on the windowsill. "We'd be lucky to get warning shots."

  "The Island Chain?" Forge was grasping now. They both knew it.

  "Fishing villages. Sure, that’s where most people are, but they barely feed themselves. Two hundred extra people would destroy their food supply in weeks." Kandis turned from the window. Looked at both of them. "There's nowhere to go. We're on the biggest, richest island in the Pentacoast. And nobody wants us because the Pantathians rule this entire region with an iron fist."

  "So we're trapped," Forge said flatly.

  "There's nowhere to go," she finally said. "Yes, we're trapped. We've always been trapped. The Culling proved that. We exist because they allow it."

  "The mine," Jake said quietly. "That's what changed. They found resources. Want labor. We became relevant again."

  "Exactly." Kandis turned from the window. "Before the mine, we were easy to ignore. Now we're sitting on value. They'll extract it one way or another. With us. Without us. Over our corpses if necessary."

  "Jonas's plan was his answer," Forge said. "Turn the threat into opportunity by making us controllable."

  "And the Pantathians are still deciding," Jake finished. "When the representative arrives, they'll make their choice. Zombies or orcs. Jonas or one final cull."

  The implications hung heavy.

  "So we have six weeks," Kandis said. "Six weeks to teach Jake to control his abilities. To prepare for potential evacuation. To give ourselves any advantage we can before they come."

  "And if it's not enough?" Jake asked.

  Kandis thought about the Culling. About watching her father die. About twenty-three years of living under Pantathian control.

  "Then we die fighting instead of die waiting," she said. "And maybe that's enough."

  Silence stretched between them. The weight of impossible choices settling over the room like dust.

  "We need a real plan," Forge said finally. "Not just hope that Jake learns fast enough. Actual contingencies."

  "Tomorrow," Kandis said. Her exhaustion was showing now. The day had been too long. Too much. "We'll go through every option. Every possibility. Map it all out properly."

  "Tomorrow," Forge agreed.

  Jake was watching them both. "You scared me today," Kandis said to him honestly. "When Jonas took over. When I saw how easily he could resurface. That's dangerous. That's volatile. That could destroy everything."

  "I know," Jake said.

  "But it's also exactly what we need." Kandis held his gaze. "Something the Pantathians won't expect. Something they can't predict. Something powerful enough and crazy enough to maybe, possibly work."

  "You're betting everything on me staying sane," Jake said.

  "No," Kandis corrected. "I'm betting everything on you staying YOU. Sane or not. Because Jake the parasite is useful. Jonas the necromancer would kill us all. And I need to make sure you remember the difference."

  Jake nodded slowly. Understanding.

  The three of them stood there in Jonas's bedroom. The journal closed on the desk. The map of impossible choices still spread across the table. Six weeks until everything ended or changed or somehow, impossibly, worked.

  "We should rest," Kandis said. "All of us. We'll need clear heads for tomorrow."

  Forge moved toward the door. Paused. The careful expression on his face again. The unspoken thing from the night before hanging between them.

  "Good night," he said simply.

  "Good night," Kandis replied.

  He left. Heading to whatever room he'd claimed in this tower of death and necromancy.

  Leaving Kandis alone with Jake.

  "So," Jake said after a moment. "What's first? Really?"

  Kandis closed the journal. Looked at Jonas's neat handwriting one last time. His careful plans. His delusions of heroism.

  "First, you eat. Regular meals. Three times a day. Then we start on the pig. You learn extraction without integration. You master your abilities."

  "And if I can't?"

  "Then we find another way." Kandis stood. "But you will. Because the alternative is unacceptable. And I don't accept unacceptable outcomes."

  "No pressure," Jake said dryly.

  "All the pressure," Kandis corrected. "Everything depends on this. So we work the problem. We prepare. We give ourselves every possible advantage."

  She looked at the journal one last time. At Jonas's neat handwriting. His careful plans. His delusions of heroism.

  "He really thought he was saving us," she said quietly.

  "Most monsters do," Jake replied. "That's what makes them dangerous."

  "Are you a monster?" Kandis asked.

  Jake considered. "I'm a parasite who kills to survive. Who's planning to infiltrate an empire and probably lose myself in the process." He met her eyes. "But I know that I'm not the hero. So maybe that makes me different from Jonas. Or maybe it just makes me honest."

  "Honest monsters are still monsters," Kandis observed.

  "Yes." Jake smiled slightly. "But at least we're interesting company."

  Despite everything, Kandis found herself almost smiling back.

  Six weeks. Two hundred lives. One brain-eating parasite who forgot to eat.

  Those odds were terrible.

  But they were better than nothing.

  - - -

  End of Chapter 41