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Amphitrite, Hvergelmir decided, would be a difficult case. Of all the emotions that could bind someone to the Negaverse, she liked anger -- because once you took it away, the spell that bound many people to Metallia's cause could shatter easily. People who needed to hold onto their anger frequently shunned close connection in order to nurture it and keep the flame alive. Without their anger, they were often ready to make new connections.

The problem was, anger burned dangerously -- and was a slow thing to cool. It required an investment of time and a great deal of patience -- a steadfast imperturbability until the anger finally wore itself out, finding no fuel in its opponent.

Hvergelmir could be patient -- but however patient she was, the road ahead would be long. Amphitrite was incredibly angry and incredibly locked in with her anger. By her own admission, she had little memory otherwise.

"The Amphitrite that you were before," she said, not disagreeing, "held out for five weeks. She did this alone, in enemy captivity -- when everyone else was gone, and she had only herself to look to for strength. Five weeks is an incredible amount of time. Hardened soldiers in the most countries' armies train exclusively in hopes of even coming close to that level of strength of will for that length of time. It wasn't potential the Negaverse had to see in you . . . it was reality. It was already there."

Her eyes fell across the cracks in Amphitrite's skin: her forehead, where her tiara had been blasted off; her chest, where the fundament of her power lay exposed for all to see -- a crude testament to Metallia's vulgarity. The aftermath of her crime against this unlucky young woman.

"What they gave you was an opportunity to survive -- and you survived. The life you make out of that survival is up to you."

Hvergelmir sighed. "I'm trying to," she said. This was a circular conversation. Little wonder -- it involved things that Amphitrite didn't seem to want to hear. The only way to give them any chance of sinking in was to approach from different angles, let a preponderance of words start to stack up.

I'm not your enemy.

I'll listen to you.

I'll listen to you more closely than you want to listen to yourself.

It was one of those things she'd seen on TV, sitting at home unemployed for years, something from one of those heartwarming family animal shows. Petting an animal you didn't know on the head forced its head down, made it feel threatened. Scratching it under the chin, however, made it feel confident.

It's not making you believe in me that'll make you more comfortable with me. First, I need to show you that I believe in you.

"If you'd like me to go," she offered, "I'll leave you in peace."

She'd pushed enough. Amphitrite was clearly unsettled -- that meant something, in all of it, had gotten through in some way. Pushing her any harder than this was too likely to make Amphitrite lash out in fear.

"I won't take up any more of your time, then," Hvergelmir said. "Please be well, Amphitrite. I'm glad I had a chance to talk to you."

She rubbed her finger against the inside of her summons ring, drawing Eikthynir to her side out of the air. Then -- with a hand laid against the great caribou's neck -- disappeared in a little, scattered fall of starlight.