While climbing the steps of the Beasts’ den, exiting from the main hall, one could often hear the sounds of wails and moans from below the floorboards. There were also often the sounds of clicking, buzzing, growling… and the rattling of metal from the dungeon below.

The noises were rather unsettling, but you got used to it after living in the den for a while—as Jemi had.

The smell of Uncle Bern’s soup wafted up in the stairwell; a warm, rich, smoky broth. Jemi’s stomach growled; maybe she should have stayed for some dinner after all. Yet, she couldn’t let herself take a break. Not now.

Not after those six months, when the goal they had fought tooth-and-nail for—the goal that she had worked so hard for—was just within sight.

There were many floors of sleeping quarters within the massive subterranean den. Jemi’s room was the attic on the highest floor. She unlocked the door, slipped in, locking it behind her. There, she changed out of her clothes into a fresh set of her usual hunting gear.

Next, she filled the basin in her room. She washed her face in it. Next, she dipped a washcloth in the water, and daubed at her scarf.

She held up the clean scarf to her eye, assessing it. There was a notable-sized hole at the end of the scarf, a few inches up from the tasseled border. Anyone else who glanced at it would’ve assumed it had perhaps gotten torn on the journey here, snagged on a branch or other. But if one looked closer, closely-crammed stitches of thread could be seen hemming the edges of the diamond-shaped hole. Whatever had caused it, this hole had evidently been there for a long time.

She wrung out the cloth with her hands as best she could, and wound the still-wet scarf around her neck. Its cold fibres plastered the sides of her cheek; she knew Aunt Liz would chew her out if she found out.

But Aunt Liz wasn’t here. And so it was that she pried open the backdoor in her room, and emerged into the starlight.

~

Jemi picked her way through the undergrowth quietly.

It was a way of walking that avoided drawing the attention of any nighttime animals. She did it not so much because the Cockatrice really had anything to fear from woodland predators, as it was a simple force of habit.

Eventually, she reached it. White, shining lakewater, in the middle of the deep woods.

The Moon was not a place that the common human, animal, or angel could stumble upon easily, not even if they actively searched for it. It appeared only when the sky fell dark, and it changed locations every night: appearing in the forest at random, never in the same place twice. Only those who had been invited to the moon once could find it again, and even a Beast didn’t quite find it so much as they gravitated toward it, like a dog led on a leash.

Now, Jemi stood by the lake. She stared into its unmoving, reflectionless ‘water’, the white light branding itself into the back of her eyes. Tonight, the moon took a different shape: a waning crescent basin in the earth, only half-filled. It reached full power only once every month, but even now, the power it emanated was still staggering. The chill in the air was immense, and Jemi’s damp scarf did not help matters any. She was shivering so badly that she felt as though her chattering teeth would fall from their sockets.

At last, she relented. Concentrating on whatever Lunaki she had currently left in her, she called forth the Beast from within her.

She felt her energy restored slightly, the cold further diminished; her skin no longer felt like it was about to crack and peel off her body. Now, instead of her long cloak, she was wrapped in scaly armour and swathes of ruffled skirt. Paired with sheer stockings, this was not an outfit that looked like it could shield her from the elements. It bared her upper arms, shoulders, and neck. And now, no longer hidden by cloaksleeves or scarves, one could see the scratches and cuts running all over her body, angry welts and long trailing scabs, stark against her pale skin. Spoils-of-war, from the battle of Casca. But, even when the transformed outfit left so much exposed, it was still her Beastly form, and—in paradoxical fashion—her body tolerated the cold better this way.

Jemi waited listlessly, kicking at the weeds on the bank with her boot. Where the grass of the forest was thick and lush, the grass on the banks of the lake lay in flat and wilted tangles. The moon’s poison had that effect on plant life.

After an incalculable amount of time, a familiar velvety voice spoke.

“Cockatrice.”

Jemi lifted her head. Risen from the middle of the lake was the Queen of the Moon herself. She took the form of an unnervingly beautiful human woman—umber skin, eyes like mother-of-pearl, her figure curved and tall like a great oak tree; her hair, thick locks of coiling, liquid light, fell down her back like writhing white vines. But beyond the physical features she had chosen to take on, there was nothing human about her, either. She was the sole daughter of Prometheus, the angel Emperor himself. Along with her father, she was the closest thing that their world had to living gods.

“Your Highness, Medusa,” Jemi curtseyed low.

Queen Medusa tilted her head. “Rise, Cockatrice.” And then, “I must say, I didn’t expect the plan to succeed.”

“Come on, your Highness. Have a little more faith in me than that,” Jemi laughed as she straightened herself.

Back in the Beasts’ Den, she hadn’t told the complete truth. She hadn’t ‘cleverly escaped’ the arrow, or performed any trick-of-the-light. Jemi had well and truly died there. Her excuses to the others—lowering the angels’ guard—had been flimsy at best, but it was the only explanation they were going to get.

The truth was far too difficult for them to swallow. Despite her jokes, Jemi had had a hard enough time accepting it, herself.

Medusa nodded at the lakewater below her. “Have a drink, little bird. See if you feel better.”

Every Beast had to refuel periodically with Lunaki. Jemi had been without a refuel for many nights now. Just one of many reasons she felt this awful. So Jemi knelt to the grass and cupped her gloved hands in the pool of light. After tilting the beak of her mask out of the way, she brought it to her lips.

When she had first tasted this lake, it had been like swallowing a bundle of swords. Bitter as ash, a cold that scalded her tongue, a thousand blades that sank through her gut. The liquid corroded her from the inside out, cutting and remaking her until the girl she’d once been was gone. In her place… the world had greeted the Cockatrice.

Now, many years on, the frosty essence of Lunaki merely enlivened the Beast—soothing her nerves, washing the pains from her body, even if only for a moment.

“So, when will our next attack be? I’m ready to get this over and done with,” Jemi said as she clambered to her feet anew. She smoothed down the front of her skirts. “I’ve received reports that Ennanis is currently on mission in the undercloud. It would be prime time to attack while she is away; without their Commander, the angels’ defence will be a mess.”

“The news has reached me as well,” the Queen acknowledged. “But now is not yet time for another attack. Our troops need more time to recover, and our guest is no different.”

“That’s fair,” Jemi nodded. Despite her own impatience, she had expected a response along those lines. “There was something else I was thinking about, your Majesty. Ever since she joined the Graveyard, Ennanis has never been spotted in the undercloud prior to yesterday. So she must have a reason for being there now.

“Ennanis is fiercely protective of her division. She wouldn’t have left the Graveyard alone of her own accord, especially not at a time like this. Not unless… she was specifically sent there,” Jemi continued. “She must be on a mission of some sort, and it must not be a one-day affair,” she deduced. “Since we know that the Chief Marshal Atlas is currently indisposed…”

“...The only one who could have made a decision like that would be my father,” mused the Queen.

It was always strange to hear the Queen refer to Prometheus as such. Indeed, Medusa, Queen of the Beasts, was the daughter of the Angel Emperor. She had once been taught and raised by the Emperor himself, heir to the throne of Mount Casca. But that was a thousand years ago; a thousand years, before the betrayal, before the moon, before the Beasts.

“But why would the Emperor do that?” Jemi wondered aloud. “Leaving Mount Casca’s night defence leaderless, and at such a vulnerable moment too?”

“The Graveyard will not be leaderless,” corrected the Queen. “Before Zoleil's time, the Graveyard Division was commanded by the Wardens, remember? With Zoleil gone, the command chain will likely revert to that of the old days. Furthermore, the angels believe that the Cockatrice is dead. They may think they no longer require Zoleil’s help due to that.”

Right. Beasts may have been teleporting out of the mountain, but what had eventually dealt the most devastating, killing blow to the division had been her Death-darting Eye. If the angels thought the Cockatrice was dead, they might have thought it a calculated risk to send Ennanis away. A poor gamble, indeed, but they had all seen the Cockatrice take that shot to the neck; there was no way they could have known the Princess of Beasts would survive.

All the same, something didn’t match up.

“If it’s for investigation, the Emperor could’ve sent a fleet from any of the other divisions,” Jemi frowned. “Or instructed a few Knights patrols to keep an eye out. Out of all the angels of all the divisions, why send the Graveyard’s commander?”

“I can only think of one reason,” murmured the Queen. “He must have sent her out to do away with her.”

Jemi stood there, looking appalled for a second. Then she scoffed. “What a king. Zoleil is easily one of his best soldiers. Is he an idiot?”

“She is a good fighter, not a good soldier. She does not follow rules. Her arrival completely changed the way the Graveyard worked, after all. But Prometheus must not have been able to find a good reason to get rid of her,” said the Queen. “My father has never liked anyone who disagreed with his visions. He must be counting on the fact that something or other will kill her while she is undercloud. Perhaps the very Beasts she was sent to investigate.”

Jemi shrugged. “Practically handing us the opportunity on a silver platter.” She paused, toeing the grass. “Since we can’t mount the next attack yet, I say we should finish her off before she unravels our plan, or before she can return to the Graveyard to aid the fight. Once she’s dead, there’ll be nothing to stop us from taking the summit.”

“Do not underestimate the angel, Cockatrice. If you were evenly-matched with her at night, one can only imagine how far she exceeds you when she is in daylight.”

“You underestimate me, too, then,” Jemi sniffed. “I’m not such a bad fighter, Lunaki or without.”

“Emperor Prometheus sent Zoleil away because she was more trouble than she's worth,” the Queen intoned. “Someone that even he could not control. She is not one to be taken lightly, and not just because of how well she fights.”

“Trust me. I’m the last Beast who will spare her her due respect,” Jemi declared. “But my life’s mine now. I can do it.” She raised her hand, and claws made of silver light extended from her fingertips. Then, she slashed them across her forearm. Five wet, bright red lines budded through her shorn glove, splattering blood on the lake’s bank. Whatever she had meant by that, she said it with conviction; violet eyes sparkled above a confident smile.

But it was then that Queen Medusa replied, “You cannot kill her.”

The woman’s smile dissolved instantly. “What?” Jemi demanded. Her gaze grew sharp, angry. It was clear she was trying to maintain composure in front of her Queen, but her voice still shook. “Then what was it all for? After all that I’ve done, all that I’ve trained, eight years of fighting this angel—I’m still not strong enough to kill her??!”

“Calm, foul Beast,” Medusa’s voice cracked like a whip, and Jemi sewed her lips shut, trembling. “Tell me, when a human farmer rears a pasture of cows, does he kill his best one for meat?”

Jemi’s glare only hardened. But eventually, she answered, “No. He keeps it to breed, so he can reap stronger cows for the next generation.”

“Precisely,” Medusa’s grave face suddenly morphed, taking on a smile. “As you are right now, you cannot kill the angel. And neither do I want you to kill her. Not when she could be a formidable ally… yes, a truly formidable one indeed.” Her silver eyes were distant as she said that, dream-like.

“...You endeavour to turn an angel into a Beast,” Jemi shivered as she realised. “Can it even be done?”

“That comes down to you, my Ace,” said Medusa. Her silky smile parted to reveal a flash of teeth. “Befriend Commander Zoleil, and make her trust you. Trust you enough to take her to the moon, and with her on our side… darling, the sun shall be ours.”

With that, the Queen of Beasts was gone, leaving Jemi Garen staring into the drink.

~~~

“Going somewhere?”

Jemi looked up.

A woman leaned against the doorway of Jemi’s room.