In the distance, Thyssa saw an old cobblestone house on top of a hill. She didn’t like the idea of getting help from humans, not least because they were as likely to kill her as help. But her stomach ached with hunger, so she reasoned with herself that this was someone outside of the Walled Garden – someone who wouldn’t know what she was, and thus who might help her.

  She hiked toward and up the hill, until she stood before the humble dwelling. Inside, she could hear the ticking of many clocks. She worked up her courage and banged on the door.

  “Enter,” said a hollow, raspy voice.

  Thyssa wondered if this was such a good idea. She shook her head. Now was the time for food, not fear. Was she really cowering before the elderly? (At least, they sounded elderly). She tried the door and found it locked.

  “Could you please unlock this door?” she asked, using a gentle voice as well as her manners. She was very careful to heed Lili’s lessons, even if the teacher was a traitor.

  “Ah. Forgive me,” said the voice. There was a terrible creaking noise and heavy footsteps. Then, a click. The door opened, and Thyssa gasped.

  The figure that answered the door was tall, wrapped up in a dark cloak that obscured their whole body – save for the head, which was hidden in a mask like a carrion bird. The sound of ticking echoed from both cloak and mask.

  “You look hungry,” said the masked figure, although the mask’s eyes were black and, it seemed, opaque.

  “Yes,” said Thyssa. “I mean, yes please.” She felt her heartbeat quicken, afraid they would turn on her for her error.

  “Certainly,” said the figure. If they took offence, they did not show it. (Though they didn’t show much of anything, aside from a reluctance to expose their skin to the bare world). “Enter.”

  Thyssa walked into the house. While the outside had looked unremarkable, the inside put Thyssa on edge. It was well-decorated, with paintings, pottery and, more than anything else, clocks. But every single decoration was cut in half. The cuts were clean – this wasn’t damage, they were either cut in half intentionally or crafted that way in the first place. They meant to fill their house with half-things.

  She took a deep breath. What was she doing, getting scared first of the elderly and then of half-finished clocks? The Ogre Queen would be ashamed at how far her daughter had fallen. A bitter thought, quickly dropped, like a worm writhing in her hand.

  The sole fixture that was complete was a large pot bubbling above a crackling hearth. The masked figure produced a bowl from a half-cabinet, then reached for a metal ladle floating in the pot. Thyssa cried out, afraid they would burn themselves. But they paid her no heed, nor did they burn themselves, and Thyssa gasped as she saw why – their hands were covered by metal gloves that looked like claws.

  The figure ladled out a generous helping of some kind of black, oily stew, then placed the bowl on half a round table, along with a big metal spoon.

  “Careful,” said the figure. “It is very hot.”

  Thyssa nodded. “Thank you.”

  She sat down at the table, on half of a wide couch – as it was, the couch was a pretty ordinary width, but only one half had an armrest. The asymmetry bothered her more than the half-things already did. Such a little thing, and yet it really got under her skin. She figured she was probably just hungry, and stirred the stew to try and cool it off as fast as possible.

  “What is your name, child?”

  Thyssa thought before answering. Lili had spread word of her – both the experiment and the bounty on her head. Even if this person wasn’t from the Walled Garden, they might know she was wanted. That she was a malform.

  She thought of lying, but the only human names she knew were those of her pursuers, and she didn’t know how common those names were. Perhaps she would make up a name, but what did human names sound like?

  “You do not wish to tell me,” said the figure, suddenly interrupting her thoughts.

  Thyssa remained silent, now thinking of how to answer this question.

  “It is alright. I am Watchful.”

  “A pleasure to meet you Watchful,” said Thyssa, reciting the polite greeting Lili taught her.

  “You were taught how to speak,” said Watchful. “But not how to trust.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It is not you who should be sorry. Your behaviour tells me you were under a cruel guardian.”

  Thyssa stared into the black stew.

  “It is cool enough now,” said Watchful.

  Thyssa nodded and eagerly took the invitation to eat instead of talking. The stew was thick and greasy. She could taste potatoes – a hardy plant whose flavour was hard to kill – but couldn’t make out any of the other vegetables.

  “That stone you wear,” said Watchful.

  Thyssa flinched. It was hidden under her clothes. How did he see it? “It’s mine,” she said, hastily.

  Watchful nodded. “It is now. But where did you get it?”

  Thyssa went back to her stew.

  “You do not wish to say.”

  Thyssa shook her head.

  Watchful sighed. “It once belonged to someone I care very dearly about. A student who went down a dark path.”

  Thyssa looked up at Watchful. Did he know Lili?

  “How is she?” asked Watchful. “Does she still live?”

  “Who?”

  “Lili.”

  Thyssa quickly shook her head.

  “She is dead?” asked Watchful.

  “No, I mean, I don’t know her.”

  “I don’t know her either,” said Watchful. “I used to.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “What happened?”

  “We disagreed about Scission.”

  Thyssa’s blood chilled, but she hid her fear and knowledge as best she could. “What’s that?”

  “The reason the world is like this. Why some are perfect and some are malforms.”

  “You made the malforms?”

  “Not just me. My team.” Watchful pointed to a half-photograph framed on the wall of two figures. On the left, a strangely familiar old man. Thyssa realized where she’d seen him before – it was Dr. Goodfellow! But he was older in this picture. Uglier. This was before Scission. Watchful and Goodfellow…they worked together? And why did that give her such a bad feeling?

  To the right of Goodfellow, another, even older, man with sad eyes – by process of elimination, that must be Watchful – what he looked like under his mask. He held the hand of…the photograph was cut off just there.

  “Who’s that?” asked Thyssa, pointing to the cut-off hand.

  “You ask about her,” said Watchful. “But not about me or Goodfellow. You recognize him.”

  Thyssa tensed up. “Sorry, I don’t.”

  Watchful stared at her.

  “It’s just that women are more exciting,” Thyssa offered. “Especially one worth tearing up a photograph.”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” said Watchful, his voice especially hollow. “She’s gone. Most likely killed by her own malform.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “You must understand…I never meant to make malforms. I never knew the sins would come to life.”

  “You just wanted to be perfect.”

  “And, in our hubris, we thought we could do that without cost.” He exhaled sharply in what might have been a laugh. “If only we were perfect then, we would have seen what we were doing. We would have never taken such a terrible risk.”

  “So you both went down a dark path.”

  “All of us made mistakes. Only I tried to fix them. But it was too late. They were accustomed to perfection, addicted to it. They couldn’t turn back, even as their work poisoned the water and spawned monsters throughout the land. Why be responsible when you could be a god?”

  “She couldn’t be content just being a person?”

  Watchful shook his head. “None of them could. Only me. They cast me out for my dissent. But I saw it coming. Before the Stormwatch could take me, I stole the Sapient Brain.” He pointed to Thyssa’s necklace. “The Benevolent Heart’s sister stone.”

  “There are two of them?”

  “Yes. We made two. Body and mind. Two halves of the best of humanity. To perform Scission, you need both. I couldn’t redeem them, but I could stop them from further blasphemy.”

  “And Lili disagreed with that.”

  Watchful nodded. “Lili had her own ideas. She wanted to help the malforms. Make them better like we had made ourselves better. She stole the Benevolent Heart in hopes it could grant her wish.”

  Thyssa focused on eating. Make no sign of fear.

  “She never realized that a malform cannot be made better. They are sick because they are sickness. They are wicked because they are wickedness.”

  A fire kindled within Thyssa’s heart. A need to defend the pack even if she wasn’t part of it anymore. “How do you know?”

  “I know because of what you have done.”

  Heart racing. “Me?”

  “Even with the Benevolent Heart, you hurt and kill.”

  “What gives you that idea?”

  “The Benevolent Heart weeps, for it is stained with blood.”

  Thyssa looked at the Benevolent Heart but found no trace of blood on it.

  “There is no blood.”

  “It is the spirit that is stained. The Benevolent Heart has led to bloodshed and death, because the kindness within it has been perverted.”

  Watchful pointed at her.

  “The Benevolent Heart made you something almost-human.”

  “How do you know?”

  A green flicker under the solid eyes of the mask. “The Sapient Brain speaks to me. It tells me all your secrets.”

  “If you see all my secrets,” said Thyssa, “then what am I thinking now?”

  “You are thinking about what terrible trouble you are in.”

  Thyssa shrugged, playing it cool. “Got me there.”

  “But you are wrong. You are not in trouble. You have reached your salvation.”

  “You can protect me from those who hunt me?”

  “I can save everyone.”

  Thyssa slurped down her stew. “I’m listening.”

  “Just as the Benevolent Heart and Sapient Brain performed Scission, together they can undo it.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “It is what you have always wanted. The world will be just as it was, fully healed.” He reached across the table with an open claw, twitching with eagerness to grasp the Benevolent Heart.

  Thyssa clutched the Benevolent Heart to her chest. “But…I’ll be a malform again.”

  “In this world, there will be no malforms, because there will be no perfection. Just humans.”

  “It will turn all of us human? What about those who don’t want that?”

  “It will not turn anybody into anything. That is Lili’s way. It will reunite people with their sins, making the two halves whole!”

  Thyssa swallowed. “We…we won’t exist?”

  “Of course you will. You will be one with your source. Their dark side.”

  “She cast me out.”

  “And that was wrong of her! She mutilated herself, leaving you to wander as a twisted, half-formed thing.”

  Thyssa tightened her grip on the Benevolent Heart. “I’m not part of a whole person. I’m a person.”

  “And are you happy?”

  “I am myself.”

  “And what are you?” asked Watchful, his ticking turning quick and violent. “Suffering, sickness. A broken creature in a broken world. Look around you and tell me this world is as it should be!”

  “It is as it is!”

  “Just let me fix my mistakes!”

  Thyssa stood up, though her legs felt weak. “I am more than your mistakes. I am of Grendel Pack, and Grendel Pack is strong.”

  “If you will not redeem yourself, then I will redeem you by force.” Watchful drew from his cloak a long, cruel sword.

  Thyssa dashed for the door, but tripped, crashing down hard on the stone floor. She tried to pick herself up, but her reflexes were sluggish, her vision blurring.

  “Poison, of course,” said Watchful, stepping closer as he looked down at her writhing form.

  “But you ate from the same pot…you poisoned yourself just to kill me?”

  “I improved myself further,” said Watchful, “made myself immune to all poisons, the better to slay the recalcitrant malform.” He scoffed. “Did you think that for one moment I did not know what you are? Did you think you could hide your monstrous nature with those silly clothes?”

  Thyssa tried to push herself up. “I thought…just once…a human would be kind to me.”

  “This is the only kindness I can grant you.”

  “But I was right the first time,” said Thyssa, barely processing what Watchful was saying. “How refreshing. Like salt in a wound.”

  “The Benevolent Heart. Give it to me.”

  Thyssa gripped the Benevolent Heart. “I’d sooner die.”

  “Then stop squirming and I’ll put you out of your misery.”

  Thyssa gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on the Benevolent Heart, her hand stinging as it pressed into the unyielding stone. She had chosen to be human, and it had cost her everything. And yet, being human had given her everything in the first place.

  “Take the cursed thing,” she spat, removing the necklace.

  “I know this is painful. I’m glad you could see reason.”

  She stuffed the Benevolent Heart in her bag. “Take it from my poisonous corpse.”

  As soon as the Benevolent Heart stopped touching her flesh, she began to change back. Her voice was suddenly sharper, crueler, and her body was suddenly awake. Poison couldn’t hurt her, because she was born in poison. Watchful recoiled at this display of half-humanity – just an instant, but that was all she needed. She drew her scissors, sprang forth like a viper and stabbed him right in the chest.

  He staggered back, and in one fluid motion, she seized the scissors and kicked him, viciously dislodging her weapon with a tear of fabric and a scrape. Watchful fell to the ground, but she didn’t wait to see if he was alive. With her hands – twitching, sharpening – she reached into the flames of the hearth, pulled out a burning log and threw it on him, setting his cloaked form on fire.

  Watchful stood up, his cloak still ablaze. He didn’t bother to remove it. “Such cruelty. Such ugliness. And it won’t even save you.”

  Thyssa gasped. “You’re not human either.”

  “Of course I am. But I improve my body with machines. Much like you.” The burning cloak split apart, revealing an intricate clockwork body.

  Thyssa felt a pang of fear – cold, animal fear. This was something more monstrous than her – too monstrous to kill. Her instincts screamed at her to run, and she obeyed, because she was her instincts.

  She opened the door – or tried to. Watchful must have locked it. Watchful’s blade rushed down like wind. Thyssa leapt out of the way, then smashed the lock with a sharp kick. She kicked again to force it open, then dove to avoid another cruel slash.

  Thyssa ran out of Watchful’s twisted home, the sound of clockwork ticking away, too loud, too close. The poison stung a body that chose not to feel pain. Not the pain of poison, not the pain of burns, and certainly not the pain of running and running as fast as you can with no end in sight because you’re not running to something, you’re running from something, and that something is tireless, relentless.

  After what could have been minutes, hours, or a lifetime – all sense of time was lost – the sound of clockwork finally faded. She had escaped from Watchful’s trap.

  But, while she couldn’t be hurt, she could be killed. Even now, the poison flowed through her veins, seeking her heart. Such a potent, fast-acting poison was surely malform venom. Fatal to humans, because it was everything toxic to them. Fatal to malforms, because bodies that hurt know how to hurt other bodies.

  She needed to find a cure, but she didn’t even know what the poison was. There was only one creature who would know, and she dreaded to meet it.