The wind picks up, shaking the trees surrounding them. They're in a clearing somewhere in the forest, miles away from the coastline.

"I suppose I have you to thank for—?" he stops, realising he never did ask her name.

"Du'an." The willowy woman plucks out a blunt from her breast pocket, or rather, from the jacket Archie bought with his first paycheck after moving to Port Alba. Before lighting the cigarette, Du'an cartwheels right beside Archie, one arm only. She falls down on her back. "Tacky Shirt was a refreshing choice for a nom de plume. Of all the names I've been called that isn't the worst of them."

He grimaces.

"You don't have to worry about the Beast. Like I said, you're better off taking the first bus away from here. Things are about to change. Revolution has started and it cannot be stopped. If your loyalties lie with the Black Beasts then don't expect me to go easy on you a second time around. In fact, you'd be doing me a great favour."

"Why is that?"

Du'an looks at him, cradling the side of her head with her right arm. "It will prove my point to Francis that violence is the only answer."

"What if I was never one of the Black Beast's boys?"

A wall of smoke floats towards Archie's face. He coughs, groaning. After it dissolves, the young man finds the mad woman locked in a sinister smile.

"I could be your sensei. Your King. Your ka'i. Whatever it is you need. Fancy that! Me teaching a stray like you. Where have I heard of this before? I'll teach you the ways of our people. Teach you how to control that voice inside you. Make you immune to exterior influences so that you will not lose control of your body again. Except—" Du'an's chest expands; she takes in a lungful of drag and then with a quiet grace, exhales. A circle within a circle within a circle of sinewy clouds forms in the space between them.

"I watched you closely, Sal'awi. I know you don't possess the right mindset to stick around. Be honest, you've felt it too, right? That shitty ink work may cover it all up, but you have within you the blood of our people. I know you've felt it. Magic is amiss. The spirits are restless. Francis doesn't think so, on account of her being half-bred. But you and me? We've grown up with it. We lived with it. If you choose to stay, you'll have to answer to a new order. To embrace the call of the moon. If you choose to leave, well—," Du'an laughs unkindly. "You can run all you want but change has a way of catching up with us all. No matter how hard you insist at playing pretend to be human, sooner or later, you will have to accept you aren't one. Not in the way these plain old humans are. There's no point denying, otherwise."

"Can I ask why you're doing this? Why dismantle the Black Beasts?"

Du'an shrugs. "Who said we were?"

"But you..."

"Call it re-structuring the ranks. We can't keep clinging to the old ways. I said as such to that brute. The Beast was more than content to keep himself and his circle entertained in their merry domain, fattening himself up while hoarding his treasures instead of expanding his empire from that sorry excuse of a club."

"Is that what's all this is about?"

"That mis'yi, is merely the tip of the iceberg." Du'an jumps up. She concedes herself a final drag before extinguishing the rest of it on the palm of her right hand. Wordlessly, she drops it back into the safety of a tattered cigarette box. "Francis is here."

Sure enough, Archie hears loud beeping up ahead.

"By the way, at what time does the concert start?"