Not harmonious yet, the feeling in the cabin between the three men, but it’s not the same feeling of tension and suspicion that made Crozier want to grind his teeth. It’s enough for civility, a strange and rather odd achievement for the middle of the wilderness. Crozier’s pleased either way, pleased to see Fitzjames here in his cabin, pleased that Rama’s found his voice again. Pleased that he has them both now, when he’s gone so long without anyone at all.

“I warned him,” he nods, “but it was the first night, and I might have chosen brevity over an exhaustive list.” He didn’t give as many details as he would have liked, but Fitzjames was only newly-risen from the grave and it seemed unfair to overburden him.

And there were other concerns too, those being the fate of the men and the expedition, and neither of them were much prepared to speak on it.

“Our experiences are mirrored in many ways, and the creature gave us some familiarity with otherworldly entities.” It’s funny how casually he speaks on that now. Otherworldly entities. Magic. Spirits. Things believed in by so many religious men but without any tangible reminder. The creature had been as tangible as they come. “All else…there’s where I need to catch him up.”