“Hey,” Eden said. “Hey. Wake up.”

She pressed her fingers into the sleeping man’s hard shoulder. Though he was on his stone bed and facing the wall, he groaned and flung a hand in her direction, which she promptly side-stepped.

“Get away, Loon,” he grumbled. “You know all the formulae. Let me get some fucking sleep.”

She let a few moments of silence pass, in which Cricket seemed to fall back into blissful unawareness, before she said, “I want to practice.”

If he heard it, he ignored her.

“I’ll take your dinner duties today,” she pressed. He didn’t reply. She jabbed her fingers into his bare back some more. “Hey—”

He growled in irritation and swung his hand back at her so hard that if she hadn’t been expecting it, he would have given her a black eye. Instead, she let his arm thump into her outstretched hands and with a simple push downward, flipped him over and off the bed. Then she scurried back.

Cricket roared and scrabbled to his knees, clawing for her. “Pests—the whole bunch of you!” he shouted. He pushed himself to sit back on the bed and scrubbed at his face. “Especially you, Loon. Don’t you ever sleep? Do you even know what sleep is?”

She shrugged. “Early bird gets the bug. No pun intended.”

“Yeah? Hasn’t anyone ever told you that the second rat avoids the trap? I’ll tell that to Rose when she comes looking for your body.”

“Seems like a weak lesson considering I am unscathed.”

“Puh,” Cricket scoffed, rolling his neck. “Not for much longer if you keep that up.”

Despite his threats, Eden was not concerned. She knew he would never fatally harm her, though harming the Lakehouse members was part of his job. He trained them thoroughly and without mercy in combat, in a rigorous style that they simply called ‘formulas’.

Rose and Jade never cared for the lessons. The former never really taking it seriously enough because Cricket wasn’t allowed to hit her, and the latter never wanted to hit anyone. The twins were both substantial but Calm was slightly better when it came down to the wire. His focus was honed a little more, whereas Calamity’s often disintegrated when he realized he was losing.

But the person that Eden really liked to fight was Thetan. Thetan was a master of the formulas, and always bested her intricately and brutally. She enjoyed their sparring, the pair of them often sinking into a totally silent, deadly duel of calculation.

Because that’s all the formulas were: calculations. That’s why Eden loved it. The movements were nothing more than reactions. No more than 'if he does this then I will do that'. Reflexes that were trained and honed and harnessed to fit into the blink of an eye. Blows that looked like lightning but struck like thunder.

There was no thinking. There was only knowing. React correctly, or die.

Practice was always worthwhile to Eden, but now, all she wanted was to forget about the feelings that had surfaced in Rose. She didn’t understand it. And she didn’t want to.

“If you’re day dreaming now just to mess with me, it’s working. Are we going to do this or what?”

Eden straightened out of her thoughts abruptly, and went to hang up her cloak. Though it always gave her good coverage, it was an easy thing to grab and thus exploit.

They moved into position facing one another. Cricket rotated his shoulders, still looking mildly irritated. “So blood? No blood? What’s on the agenda for today?”

“No blood. I have an important mission tonight.”

He stilled and gave her a near glare. “Important as in… you won’t be handling dinner duty for me, will you?”

She fought back a tiny smirk. “I mean I could, but we both know once Thetan finds out that he’ll make you do it anyway.”

“You’re not even going to be here later.”

“Nope.”

Cricket pinched his lips and nodded silently. Eden wasn’t surprised that he started the fight by charging at her.

Cricket was an excellent opponent; as ferocious as he was fast. But there was always one problem that caused their fights to immediately become brutally explosive after the first punch was thrown – and that was the fact that they both knew the formulae inside and out. If Cricket punched and Eden blocked, Cricket already knew that blocking was the answer. But Eden knew that he knew the answer, and was already prepared to react to the reaction.

The logical leap-frogging always caused the duels to be as much – perhaps even more so – about the mental than the physical. Full out punches became mere feints, and any attempts to bind one another were often abandoned early.

If anyone was to watch two Lakehouse members fight, their combat style would seem sporadic, their attacks incomplete as the motions constantly paused or morphed into something else. As if both opponents were indecisive – too cautious to follow through with each attack. This was the beauty of formulas, in Eden’s opinion, because she knew that a blow or a bind that successfully landed was merely the product of hundreds of movements that had been calculated and then abandoned in favor of the final one.

To checkmate a Lakehouse member like herself or Cricket, the opponent would have to force them into a position that left them with no feasible options and no viable calculations. But since the seven of them were the only ones who knew the formulas, and a few of them were not opposed to breaking their own arms to get out of a bind, well, defeat was not something any of them often experienced outside of each other.

But in order for her to beat an opponent like Cricket, the fatal blow had to be more of a prediction than a reaction. If she got him into a really restrictive bind where he perhaps only had one or two options in order to escape – and if she made her guess correctly and caught him while he performed it…

The fight was over. The formula was complete. Solved. They whittled away at one another until they were forced into a position where there were no options left. It was never a battle of strength. It was always a battle of speed. The victor always won by milliseconds. That meant that even smaller opponents like herself could win – and she had been sure to sharpen her mind relentlessly in order to make it so.

They were completely silent. The only noise was the occasional slap of skin as a palm met a fist or a hand blocked a knee. It was only after skirting around the room for several minutes that she realized they were not alone.

Pushing away from Cricket in order to reset her options, she held out a hand to signal for him to stop his assault. He did without question, relaxing and using his shirt to wipe his forehead.

“Thetan,” Eden acknowledged, nodding respectfully towards the door where he stood.

Cricket dropped his shirt and looked over. “Oh. I didn’t even notice you, Master.”

Thetan crossed his arms and leaned languidly against the door frame. It wasn’t often that Eden saw him act so relaxed.

“That means you’re dead, Cricket,” he said pointedly. Then he turned a more serious gaze back onto her. “And you, Eden, why are you here? I told you to accompany Rose.”

Eden straightened politely. “May I speak with you in private about the matter?”

He gave her a long, strange, indecipherable look before his head finally dipped into a nod. As he turned away, Cricket flashed her a subtle hand signal, barely a flutter of his fingers.

“Weird today. Careful.”

She replied with a scarce nod of her own, in thanks for both the warning and the practice. She retrieved her cloak and followed Thetan up the stone stairs.

They caught Crane with her door open as she was crushing something at her table, presumably to give herself a little more of a breeze in her tiny space.

She flashed Eden a hand signal as well, partnered with a warm smile. “How is your hand, hun? If it still aches I have some numbing pods that can be administered orally.”

The Loon paused on the landing to signal back. She felt Thetan stop beside her. “Rose said that those turned her tongue numb last time.”

“She said that did she?”

Eden smiled with one cheek. “Well, no, she signaled it. She couldn’t speak at all.”

“I told her not to chew them.”

“Did you, Jade?”

“I’m sorry, she just talks so much!”

“Eden,” Thetan rumbled, and something happened that never happened before. As she was about to tell Crane that she didn’t need the numbing pods, he placed a hand on the back of her neck, effectively silencing her and nearly making her bite her own tongue from the shock. Her hands felt limp to her sides.

“I don’t have all day, and neither do you,” he said. It was strangely close to her ear.

“Yes, master,” she mumbled, too unnerved to even look at him. Too embarrassed to risk glancing at Crane for her reaction. Thetan didn’t touch anyone like that – so urgently intimate. Not even Rose.

In that moment, she couldn’t have felt more disconnected from her partner. If Rose was implying that she might have accumulated accidental feelings for Thetan, all Eden could understand as she followed him to his study was the inherent wrongness of it. Her body shivered from the memory of his blows, and though she couldn’t deny that they eventually made her strong and wise, there was no fondness or affection left over to impart upon him.

He was her mentor. At most, a father figure. She respected him immensely.

She did not love him at all.

They entered his study, and Eden mourned the closing of the door behind her. Enclosed in the small space, she couldn’t help but stare up at the open porthole in his ceiling, wishing she could fly out and away from this cage, the way an actual loon might have.

“Tea?” Thetan asked, gesturing to the glass kettle on his desk. It looked freshly brewed. Gentle steam was rising from the spout.

“Um—” she started and stopped, nearly kicking herself for saying the word. “No. No thank you. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

He sat down in his chair, leaning back. “But you have.”

The words weren’t angry, but they were a little telling. Eden lowered her head submissively, reached for the tea pot, and gently poured a stream into his cup. He appraised her quietly but openly, and she resisted looking into his eyes.

“What is wrong, Loon.”

She set the kettle back down on its wooden coaster. “It’s Rose.”

“Oh?”

“She wants to find Basira.”

He let his head fall to the left, seeming half lazy and half curious. “Is that so? Then why are you asking in her stead?”

“She’s focusing on the mission,” Eden lied.

Thetan straightened out of the tilt. The look he gave was nothing short of a warning.

“I am better at negotiating,” she amended quickly.

Placing his elbows on the armrests of his chair and folding his hands together thoughtfully, he said, “Do you believe that to be true? Do you negotiate often as the Loon? Have you more experience than Roselle, who’s been trained in social etiquette, conversation, and persuasion?”

“No,” she answered, furrowing her brows.

“Then say what you mean, Eden.”

She didn’t want to. “I am better at negotiating with you.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding and tapping his fingers together knowingly. “There it is. And why do you think that is?”

Taking a slow seat on one of the wooden chairs across from his desk, she said, “Because you aren’t implicated by the Lotus’s skills or tactics.”

“Mere child’s play.”

“I couldn’t do what she does,” Eden replied honestly. She didn’t like hearing Thetan discount Rose’s talents. “She is formidable.”

“Perhaps she was… for a time.”

Finally Eden looked up from her lap at him, afraid of these words.

Sensing that he had caught her attention, he leaned forward onto his desk and laced his fingers together. “Do you think, Eden, that I have any use at all for a Lotus whose petty mind is wrapped up in even pettier revenge?”

She could only scan his cold face, searching desperately for any indication that she didn’t have to answer. She didn’t know what would come out if she did, arguments or agreements. The former in the form of truth, or the latter in the face of threat.

Thetan stood abruptly. “If she’s so consumed by revenge, then tell me, where does loyalty reside? Gratitude? Appreciation? It can’t all fit. She’ll have to abandon one or several to make room for revenge. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes—but I wouldn’t say she is consumed—”

“My answer is no. I will not tell you Basira’s whereabouts. Not now, not ever. Such a request is spitting in the face of the life I have provided to the pair of you. You would do well to put it out of your mind.”

Eden rose quickly, bowing. Hoping to escape. “Yes, Thetan, I understand. I apologize for my senselessness. I need no further instruction.”

She went for the door, but didn’t make it out before his hand curved around her to grasp the handle. His grip was so tight that she could see the veins popping on the back of his hand.

“I mean it, Loon. I know just how deep your loyalty goes, but if I find out that you’ve disobeyed my wishes and decide to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, I’ll retire Roselle immediately. Faster than you can say goodbye.”