After spending the previous day searching for Laerso and Zakaraia’s tails as well as netting Sheeva’s pocket watch that she hadn’t noticed toppling out of her pocket in the chaos, they’d spent the evening packing, shrinking their machines, and tucking them away in their containers and situating their bags for the journey ahead. Although it wasn’t a pleasure cruise, they still promised they’d take time for each other and their separate hobbies, with the added promise that they’d return and tell Cassie and Hasch how things went.

  Bartholomew had gone on ahead of them to scout, planning to return every week or so even if he had nothing to report, and Tazaro wondered what had transpired between him and Sheeva to make the not-so-evil thing seem so attached to them.

  Stopping at the top of the climb, Sheeva paused at the top of the mountain across from the majestic, arched entryway to the temple, a bittersweet smile on her face as she gazed at it. Tazaro stood by her side, offering a hand for her to take, already missing the place he’d grown so attached to. The red-slat roof gleamed goodbye at them in Celeste’s half-moon light, Kursu hiding behind the giant moon once again, something that Tazaro noticed happened regularly every four months or so.

  “You know, the first time I left, I almost hesitated. Cassie and Kyle stopped me at the gates to give me gifts. I felt like such a part of their family. I didn’t want to leave. But, silly twenty-year-old me was determined–I’d trained for such a long time and did not want to wait anymore.” She admitted with a soft, sad chuckle.

  “We can take as long as you–

  –No, thank you.” She insisted.

  Tazaro opened his mouth to protest, then closed it and clicked his tongue. Perhaps it was better this way; to wait any longer, they might lose their nerve or find some other reason to stay. He’d already had his perfectly strategized proposal plan ruined since they weren’t able to stick around to watch the Ring of Fire Daffodil bloom and grow. Still, the chest he’d stuck all of his plans into and shrunk to fit in his pocket for security and safekeeping protected most of the rampant ideas he’d jotted down in a scribbling fury, and he’d tucked the blocks of jatoba and birchwood with his woodworking tools for use as their days of travel trickled by. The next, more difficult task lay in finding time to work on the items in secret.

  “Where shall we head first? Anywhere in particular? I’ve honestly never been further than Raynak, so if there’s somewhere you want to recommend….” He trailed off, intending to leave the decision up to her. Though, as he thought about it, he realized she’d beeline straight for the hellish island of Cruinia.

  “Hm. I suppose we can take a detour or two. We must search for Zakaraia thoroughly, no?” She hinted, and Tazaro swore he saw the slight curl of playfulness on her lips before she turned away to hide her smile as it broke upon her face.

  Sheeva cleared her throat, turned back to steal a look at her home with an apologetic look, and stepped onward into the forest now dark, eerie, and misty from late-night dew. Tazaro went to follow but stopped to look at the temple one last time as well, briefly wondering when they’d see the place again...or if they’d see it again. The trilithons built from the rubble lined the grand stairs, crafted in thanks to Bartholomew, who’d carved sigils for increased protection against Zakaraia if the psychotic bastard doubled-back to finish destroying the place. He’d even gone an extra mile to seal himself out, “just in case.”

  Tazaro was surprised to find that Sheeva wasn’t planning on heading straight for Zakaraia, but decided not to call her out on it, feeling that there was something else she had in mind to do on the journey.

  “Mm! Scour every bustling city and backwater town? It’s essential!” He agreed with a shit-eating grin as he turned away from the sacred temple and followed her along the trodden path towards the opposite side of the mountain.

  The forest canopy shielded them from the meager moonlight, and as Tazaro squinted to pick out Sheeva’s form in the darkness, he rolled his eyes at himself for his lack of ingenuity. With an exaggerated wave of his hand, he summoned his light orb, dimmed it out of second nature for a night-time hunt, then twisted his hand to turn it a pleasant shade of lavender.

  His lips curled into an evil sneer as he giggled to himself, eager to displace the sense of homesickness he felt growing within at each step away. With a flick of his finger, he directed the orb of light to bounce off the back of Sheeva’s head, eliciting not the much-desired sigh of annoyance and fall of her shoulders but a brief stiffening of her gait and squaring of her shoulders.

  Amid the hoots of owls and chitterings of cicada, he barely heard the “tch” as she clicked her tongue at his antics. Her dismissal wouldn’t do, and he summoned his orb to his hand and launched it forward a second time. He snickered at her lowly as she gave a grunt and stopped to face him, fighting an amused look with a pout, hand on a hip, and a stern stare in leering red eyes.

  “Are you going to do this the entire way?” She asked, pursing her lips together. He swore he could see the corner of her mouth curl as the cheek around it began to curve, ever so slightly.

  “Not just that. Hopefully, your entire life.” Tazaro threatened with glee and a pseudo, evil cackle.

  Sheeva’s stoic stance broke, and she huffed a chuckle at him, raised her hands, and turned her back on him to continue on.

  “Lovely. I must be so fortunate!” She batted with an exaggerated wave of a hand.

  “Oh, you are most fortunate, moya Zvezdaya!” He countered, slipping his wings through his jacket to lift himself off the ground and float by to swoop in front of her. She stopped, gave a mock scoff, and gently pushed him aside to continue on her way, but not before he caught the amused grin.

  It spurred him to continue in his typical “wily bullshit,” and as he pulled every trick in his book, she gave little to no recognition. He fought the dejected scowl, but as he eyed her form in the dim light as she continued the weathered path, he hummed in interest at the way Abraxas swung, slightly more animated than usual.

  The leather armor padded the click of the sword’s holster and hugged tight to the curvature of her sides, the flaps covering the holes for protrusion of her wings waving at him with each step she took. The freshly sharpened tail-blade affixed to a wild stag antler handle, reinforced with shaped steel and completed with a finger guard, bobbed and bowed like a ship on the ocean as her hips swayed as she tried to keep her gait steady. Hemp pants dyed black with soot helped her blend into the darkness as she hustled away as her composure began to crumble, letting a tiny titter pass through thin lips and shielded by a graceful hand.

  With a lift into the air and a swoop, Tazaro gave an impish giggle as he reached out to grasp her butt in passing, happy to hear the gasped squeak and startled “oh!”

  “Tazaro, you are just–

  –Amazing? Handsome?” He offered with a toothy smirk. Sheeva stammered for a moment, then forced a pout.

  “If you keep that up, I’m...I’m tying your tools to the ceiling!” She threatened. He noticed her blink as she realized it wasn’t much of a threat but had to admire her sticking through with it at the second stern look she gave him. Tazaro crossed his arms to shield himself from his worries as he wondered if she knew he’d be working on his project but reminded himself that she’d been there when he packed the tools of his previous trade.

  “Oh ho, really? Well! I’ll be sure to leave them within reach for you!” He volleyed.

  Sheeva gave a fake, indignant scoff, then opened her mouth to say something.

  “Then I’ll just have to, ah, to...Oh, vilg sa!” She snorted at herself, shooting him an impertinent glare with a conceding grin before pressing a hand to her forehead and continuing on.

  Tazaro bit his tongue hard to prevent himself from blurting out a half-intended “I can certainly do that.” He shook his head and held onto the retort for some other, more appropriate time where they had the liberty to act on his suggestion. Not that they couldn’t, but he wanted to make decent headway as soon as possible.

  He flew to catch up with her and landed, tucking his wings back to lessen the bob they’d give with each step he took.

  “Back to the itinerary: Where are we heading first? And, why don’t we just fly?”

  Sheeva fished in her pocket for a folded piece of paper and summoned her orb of light, then handed it to him.

  A sketch of Vivroa stared back at him in its bizarrely oblong, jagged hexagonal shape, the seven holds shaded with different colors as they denoted their realms of control. Her scribbles in ink showed a line that snaked through the Urul-Maizen pass toward Raynak, then looped left to hit a small town he had never heard of. The line zig-zagged southeast through the crags, and as he peered closer, noticed it curved deliberately around a town called Midna’s Overlook and continued toward the third largest city on Vivroa, a coastal town called Pomiza Port before disappearing off the side of the page. He turned it over in his hand, where the line connected to a dot in the middle of a crescent-shaped bay with Rascal’s Cove written above it.

  “Wow. There’s a lot of stops here.”

  Sheeva mysteriously silenced and gave a forced nod.

  “Raynak, first, through the Urul-Maizen Pass. I...I wanted to take the time to appreciate the journey. I did not allow myself the privilege during my search for Llyud unless holed up by winter’s weather, held captive, or searching.” Sheeva explained, taking back the map and folding it back up to bury in her pocket. "If you can consider being held captive a sort of twisted vacation." She muttered as an afterthought.

  “Mm. I see.” He acknowledged, understanding the avoidance of Midna’s Overlook. Still, he felt she withheld something else from him but decided to ask later if she didn't already bring it up.

  Tazaro scanned the canopies of the dark treetops, able to pick out the eerie, looming, glowing golden eyes of Tinker Owls as they stared down at the two of them walking the forest’s depths. One screeched at something, spread its feathery white wings, and took off in a dead-dive, its talons outstretched and ready to snatch up prey. A shrill squeak of what he guessed was a forest rat sounded out as the owl clasped razor-sharp claws into its meal a couple yards away from them.

  “Hey, Sheeva, hungr–

  –Crack that joke, and I’ll feed you a forest rat.”

  Tazaro clamped his mouth shut and decided to put his wisecracks to rest for the moment, unwilling to test her patience and have her follow through with her threat.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He let his mind wander, wondering what the pass looked like up close rather than the gigantic chasm torn through the valley from what had to have been the massive, cataclysmic meteorite forming the bowl Roussell was nestled in. Though there hadn’t been much evidence, perhaps there’d been colossal creatures around before Sferrans, far more significant than the monstrous behemoths...that they still had yet to run into. Sheeva seemed to go out of her way to avoid the things, but he couldn’t blame her, considering she had the scars to prove their ruthless brutality.

  “I’ve never been to the pass. It must be nice if you’re considering walking through it.” He admitted. Sheeva paused and glanced back at him, holding a branch above her head as she passed under it. He grabbed it and pushed the shoulder-tall thing out of his way.

  “Oh? No?” She gave him a puzzled look. “How did you get to Raynak? I thought the pass was the only way.”

  “Micah, Perron, Vincent, and I took a long way around; something of a celebratory journey. Micah drank and bedded barmaids. The rest of us enjoyed the sights...mostly sober.” He summed with a snicker at his past self. “There’s a trail carved into the eastern side of the bowl that cuts up, over, and down the other side of the mountain.” He answered, smiling at a memory. “It’s a terrible road; our cart was damn near hanging off the ledge. But, that was years ago, before they tunneled their way through the base of the mountain. I don’t think anyone uses the trail anymore–except maybe daredevils.”

  “Hm. Well. This will be something new for both of us, then.” She summed. “Though I’ve not seen them, myself, I heard there are glowing, singing stones deep within the caves. It was another thing I marked as something to do post-Llyud.”

  She slowed her march, crossed her arms, then sighed heavily.

  “I also saw many search-and-rescue posts on the bulletin boards in the tavern in Urul and just as many in Maizen. Travelers. Mostly children; suppose they like to play in them and get turned around and lost.”

  “Oh,” Tazaro muttered, unnerved at the prospect of getting hopelessly lost in winding caves.

  When she turned to him, a guilty look showed on her face, and she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.

  “If, if it’s possible, could we–do you think we could stop to...” She began, then frowned with herself.

  “Sure we can.” Tazaro agreed.

  A pacified glow shined in her eye, and she smiled at him in gratitude.

  “Thank you, Tazaro.”

  She stepped toward him and pecked his lips lightly, then pushed herself into his hold for a hug, tucking her head in the crane of his neck.

  “Really. Thank you. I...” She gave a light chuckle and nuzzled his neck with her nose. “I love you, and...I appreciate you.” She whispered, sniffling. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  “You’re welcome, Sheeva.” He responded, pecking the top of her head and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I, I have to ask: is that why there are so many stops? Gotta right some wrongs?”

  Sheeva gave a guilty sigh.

  “Not wrongs, just...there were times I could have–should have done something, but I...I was a different person then. Selfish. An asshole.”

  Her demeanor crumbled, and he felt her hands fall slack against his waist. Tazaro stared down at the top of her head for a moment, then smiled softly as he raised his hands to her neck, tenderly pinching and tickling the skin beneath the collar of her shirt. She cringed and giggled, attempting to push his hands away and stop his assault.

  “Tazaro, what are you doing?” Sheeva squirmed. He held fast to her shoulders, continuing to dig deeper beneath her shirt.

  “I’m trying to find that noose you’re attempting to hang yourself with.” He stopped, pulled his hand out of her shirt, and looped the freed arm around her waist, giving her a sincere smile. “Nope. I can’t find anything, so...cut yourself some slack.”

  Sheeva smiled and nodded at him as she took his advice with a thankful smile on her face as she gave him a quick, grateful squeeze and peck. Satisfied with her acceptance, he took her hand as he urged them to keep moving ahead in the direction they’d been going.

  When the morning sun broke and spilled golden rays on the canopy above, Tazaro really noticed the humidity in the air as a morning fog glistened and showered his face and clothes with dew.

  The two of them made small talk as the day went on about things to do and other places to see, Tazaro’s excitement for their journey growing at each suggestion, meanwhile tucking away ideas for proposal each time she talked about a place with a fast-paced rave. Though, he had to admit, his curiosity was highly piqued at the mention of a hot spring at the peak of a mountain in the southeastern crags.

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  Sheeva appeared to know the way well as she guided them along, showing stark confidence; as soon as they arrived at a crossroads or a fork, there was no hesitation as she led him through the dense forest. Thanks to her guidance and their steadfast pace, Urul’s tiny farmlands greeted them with the heady scent of onion and rich, fertile soil. Unlike Roussell, it seemed the plots were only big enough to support the town beyond, tucked at the entrance to the pass between the chain of mountains.

  Farmers tended to their fields but paused to wave at them, confusing Tazaro; he’d always imagined tiny towns bearing a closed eye towards strangers.

  “They’re awfully cordial.” He muttered, avoiding eye contact with an elderly man tending to abelas roots, a deep-red, cabbage-sized, stringy root with many medicinal properties, particularly for decongestion during winter-time cold and flu outbreaks. He wondered if this was where Dr. Marx bought his supply of the rich herb from.

  “Apparently, we forgot to eat,” Sheeva muttered, eyeing some dark-red ripe tomatoes, no doubt thinking about slicing one up and sprinkling it with salt. As she reminded him of the fact, Tazaro’s stomach growled, and his breath caught in his chest as he winced at himself.

  “If I recall, there’s a tavern here with decent sandwiches that are fitting for a behemoth.” She called to him over her shoulder with a grin. He offered her a complimentary eye-roll and a soft “pfft!”

  The dirt roads turned to paved cobblestone, neatly lain and cleanly kept as it guided them toward and through the town. It was a small town, with what had to be thousands of gemstones for sale, and Tazaro’s gait slowed as they passed to eye the colorful stones with an interested eye. He hadn’t noticed Sheeva marching ahead as a particularly vibrant red one caught his eye.

  He stepped toward the merchant and greeted the muscular, pot-bellied, bushy-bearded man with a “hello,” and pointed toward the blood-red stone.

  “What’s this stone called?” He asked.

  “It’s a Red Tourmaline.” The man answered, reaching for it with a leather-gloved hand and picking it up to turn it over beneath the light of a lantern. Tazaro’s eyes widened with interest as the crystal sparkled in raspberry, black-specked splendor, and smiled, mesmerized. How much it matched Sheeva’s eyes when they burned with fiery resolve!

  As the merchant offered him some ridiculous statement of “crystals and healing power,” Tazaro fought a snort and shake of his head.

  “Looking at pretty gemstones isn’t something I imagined you being interested in, Tazaro.” Sheeva teased as she stood beside him, making Tazaro jump and jerk his head toward her.

  “No, not really, I just, uh...” He fought to come up with a decent excuse.

  “Wanted to find something fitting for his lovely lady?” The man offered with a cheeky grin. Tazaro bit his tongue. Sheeva was far from being considered “lady” material; he’d seen her wrestle what had to be a twenty-pound catfish out of the water with her bare hands.

  “Hm.” She hummed through pursed lips, frowning at the stone the man held in his hand. Still, rather than turning away from the stand, she eyed the rest of the selection, fixing on a yellow diamond, square-cut and tiny, though larger than something Tazaro felt he could situate in a ring. It seemed something more fitting for a necklace. Or, a bracelet, he thought.

  Did he imagine things when Sheeva leaned over the selection to get a better look at something towards the back or was she subtly comparing her wrist to the diamond she’d just set back down?

  The corner of his lips curled as his stomach fluttered with joy, and the smile broke on his face as he perused the rest of the selection, passing over the pink-colored stones laid out between the reds and purples.

  “You’re grinning. It’s either quick-wit, or you’re really swayed by pretty rocks.” Sheeva snorted, stopping herself from reaching for an oval-cut sapphire.

  “For someone who could kill a man with her bare hands, so are you.”

  The merchant hesitated briefly at Tazaro's statement, and in his nerves, plucked a pink stone from his display and held it up. Without giving it more than a couple seconds of contemplation, Sheeva frowned, gave it a stern, fierce glare, and almost growled her immediate “no.” The merchant immediately set it back down and sharply retrieved his hand as though it were a poisonous item.

  As though to apologize, Tazaro gave the merchant a slight shake of his head and offered a reminder about leading them toward the tavern Sheeva had spoken of. Sheeva’s terse frown did not fade, but she turned away from the stand and crossed her arms. She led them away, and Tazaro walked beside her to match her insistent, quick stride as she hurried toward the tavern.

  “I know you said your favorite color was yellow. Somehow, we’ve never talked about your least favorite color. So...pink?” He asked. Sheeva slowed her step, then uncrossed her arms and hung her head.

  “Suppose you wouldn’t know. Alright.” She sighed and turned to face him. “Iphsium is pink and transparent, like glass–much like that gem. They powdered it and dosed me with the vile stuff when I was held captive in Midna’s Overlook. That is...why the exclusion of the town during our trip. I don’t want to risk going anywhere near the place.” She explained, a dour, stern glare directed at something in the distance.

  “Oh. No, I, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Tazaro apologized. Unsure what to do with his hands, he shoved them in his pockets and played with the fabric of them, taking this moment for one of the rare times Sheeva would not appreciate a physical gesture of consolation, much as he wanted to.

  “What–uh…” He stopped himself and nibbled on his lip, wondering if he should ask.

  “Does it feel like?” Sheeva finished. Sheepishly, he glanced at her and nodded, feeling a rush of heat from embarrassment in his chest.

  She inhaled deeply through her nose, held her breath for a second, then exhaled slowly, nodding to herself about something.

  “It makes you…happy. So incredibly happy–as though your problems are far away. Tiny. Unimportant. It’s, uh, like experiencing an orgasmic high.” She admitted. Tazaro’s eyebrows raised, surprised, and she nodded and shrugged to prove her point, silently showing a “Crazy-but-true” stance towards the statement.

  “You have emboldened courage. Unlimited energy. Unshakeable focus.” She continued.

  “But, it is still a drug, and according to the person I was imprisoned with: ‘the longer you float, the harder you fall, and you want more. You need more.’ She was there for much longer than I was and had become...willing to do anything for it.” She muttered, unable to lock eyes with him, which he took to understand that “anything” meant...anything.

  “Oh.” He mumbled, feeling awkward.

  “It helped her forget her circumstance, I suppose. I was fortunate to only be dosed once. Perhaps, the limited exposure and being coerced to it helped me to overcome, but I remember mustering up the scruples to tell myself I didn’t need it, nor did I want it.” Sheeva crossed her arms again and dove a hand to her hair to twirl a lock of it between her fingers, silencing as she thought of something, eyes glazing over with darkness. Had she been dosed multiple times, perhaps she, too, might have developed an addiction to the stuff, if only to spare her from depressing reality.

  He didn’t dare ask what it was and gently reached a hand to take the one furiously twisting hair into his and give it an encouraging squeeze.

  “You’re an amazing woman, Sheeva...overcoming something like that through sheer commitment and insane will.”

  It broke through, and he watched the bashful smile crack on her face, cheeks turn red, and heard her attempt to “feh!” at the compliment.

  “I’m insane, alright.” She brushed, sighing and relaxing her squared shoulders as she returned the light hold of her hand in his palm. “Thank you. Twice, today, you’ve brought me to my senses?” She paused, a thoughtful look on her face. “You’re cut off for the year.” She smirked, clearing her throat and guiding them away from the noisy squabble of merchants they’d stopped by.

  A Stone’s Throw, a quaint building decorated with shiny, glimmering crystals as they refracted the setting sun’s glowing light into ribbons of rainbows, sat a few buildings away from a gigantic split in the side of the mountain, lined with pristine stones and mainly lime-green crystals in porphyritic fashion. Upon entry, Tazaro ducked his head as it almost collided with a hanging bowl of stones cut in the shapes of fruits. He paused to admire a pear cut from a well-formed, emerald Ketze’s Eye.

  “Everything is so...sparkly.” He grunted, a wry smirk on his face. Sheeva sneered over her shoulder at him as she headed toward the bar to speak to the thin, gangly man drawing a tankard of ale from a keg.

  “I think you like it. I’m going to order us something.”

  "Sure. Probably pull a fast one on me with peas." He murmured before following her further inside. Shrugging off Tyrj, Laerso, and his bag, he rested them against the wall of the bar as he shuffled onto the padded barstool, thankful for the relief of weight off his back and feet.

  Eyeing a display case of folded brochures, he reached for one while Sheeva ordered them something called a black-and-blue gut-punch “on rye” and curled an eyebrow at her gumption. Whatever it was, with such a vicious name, he hoped it was as filling as it threatened when his stomach growled at him a third time.

  “Well! Yours is a face I have not seen in a long time! Did you find the man you were looking for? Or, are you here with that big burly man? Good customer, that one. He can guzzle ‘em and pays well, too!” The man behind the counter asked before scanning the room behind him as his sapphire blue eyes sparkled in hope. The reflection of a nametag flashed in front of their faces. Razi, it read.

  “Hasch? Oh. No, you needn’t worry about bar fights tonight–at least, not from either of us. But, to answer your question, yes. I found Llyud. He is dead.”

  “Hm! Well, good for you!” He smiled as he pulled up two shot glasses from beneath the counter and poured a dark, sticky liquid into it, then handed one to Tazaro and one to her with a wink. “Here, something sweet–like you.”

  Sheeva thanked him and downed her shot, then tutted. What she said next made Tazaro laugh and belt out an impressed “wow,” almost spilling his shot all over his hand. “Pretty sure he’s the only one to properly compare me to this.”

  Razi’s eyebrows lifted, and his eyes widened in embarrassment before shooting Tazaro a grin. Tazaro avoided eye contact and downed his shot, mulling it over with his tongue. Sure enough, it was sweet and packed a punch, like grapefruit or some other lip-puckering citrusy fruit.

  "Oh! Excuse me! I assumed he was a drinking buddy of yours.”

  Sheeva shook her head before offering a pleased, self-conscious, flustered smile.

  “Ahem. So, what brings the two of you here to Urul? Just passing through?" Razi asked, appearing to try to save face as he handed them whatever red drink Sheeva had ordered along with a sandwich as thick as Tazaro’s arm and as big as his face, supported by a thin sheet of deli wrap.

  Tazaro looked at her in shock, mildly fearing for his stomach and impressed with Sheeva’s ambition, though he huffed at his hopes as he saw her daintily cutting half and wrapping it up for later. So they weren’t going to attempt a ridiculous “massive-meal-contest” on the journey. Yet.

  He didn’t waste time in biting into the sandwich, interested in finding the “black and blue” portion of it was moist, sweet, black-peppered, thinly sliced hork meat and a smearing of blue cheese, topped with vibrant green lettuce, thinly sliced onion, and delicately handled rogue-tomato. The creamy mayo was robust, and, while the brown mustard looked like it would pop like annoying peas between his teeth, the tease of vinegar still caused him to drool. Uninterested in the last topping, Tazaro peeled out the slice of pickle and slipped it onto her plate. She picked it up in thanks and ate it.

  “Stopping through for the moment. Wanted to kill some time with some bounties, if you have any.” Sheeva answered, taking Tazaro’s look to be an invitation for her to explain their intentions.

  The bartender gave them a look over with a judgemental eyebrow, then shook his head at himself and waved a pointer finger at the wall by the door they’d entered in.

  “There’s a whole pile of stuff to pick and choose from. Search and rescues, mostly. Buncha blowhard, reckless daredevils in search of the legendary ‘monster of the mines’ or stupid tourists wanting to travel off the beaten path.”

  Tazaro hurried to swallow his bite, wincing as the bolus was a little too large and hurt.

  “Monster in the mines, huh?” He asked for clarification.

  “Oh. Yeah.” The man paused in cleaning his glass and propped himself up on the counter with a playful grin. “They say the drunken father of a horribly-disfigured child committed filicide and disposed of the boy in the elevator shafts deep in the mines. Legend has it that the kid survived the fall, and haunts the mines, and slaughters miners that remind him of his father.”

  Tazaro narrowed his eyes in thought, amused by the apparent attempt to frighten them.

  “Right.” He drawled, taking another bite of the sandwich.

  “Heh! Yeah, I don’t believe it either. It’s a bunch of bullshit.” Razi snickered, wiping down the counter with a rag.

  “Don’t forget, most legends come from a shred of truth. Just ask Bartholomew.” Sheeva muttered, taking a sip of what Tazaro learned was wine.

  As he slowly ate the hearty sandwich, he realized Sheeva had the better idea of cutting it in half and saving the rest for later, and wrapped the rest of his up in the deli paper, tucking it away in a pouch for safekeeping.

  “I think we should stop here for the night. Start fresh in the morning.” Sheeva suggested, instinctively reaching for the watch in her pocket, forgetting that it had cracked and broken when it fell out during the fire. She stopped herself and sighed.

  Tazaro looked around for a clock on the wall, unable to see one, but he did happen to notice a bulletin board loaded with flyers. Telling himself they’d swing by it in the morning, he fished around in his pocket for his satchel of Inue, then set a silver twenty-piece in Razi’s outstretched hand.

  “Do you have any rooms available?” Tazaro asked, netting another curious, flashy smile from Razi as he glanced between him and Sheeva. Still, Razi counted out the change; a copper one, a silver ten, and another copper two-piece, then set them in Tazaro’s palm, along with a key accentuated with a green ribbon.

  “The green room has a nice view of the overpass. Take the east stairwell. Second floor, third door on the left.” He directed with a smirk and a wink.

  “Oh. Ah, thank you.” Tazaro muttered sheepishly, slipping off of the barstool to hurry away.

  Sheeva hopped down, picked up her bag, and briskly followed Tazaro as they stepped towards a hallway lined with ornate, colorful doors. A red one, decorated with flowers and flames, with a couple sharing an intense kiss beneath an array of candles. A blue one, engraved with shells and water-dwelling creatures, as well as a topless mermaid embracing a shipwrecked sailor. Finally, as they stopped in front of a green one chiseled with plant life and a couple holding each other beneath the crevasse of a tree, Tazaro paused to wonder what they were getting into as he slid the key into the lock and turned the handle, allowing her to step in first.

  As he’d somehow anticipated, the inside was flush with varying greenery. A king-sized, four-post bed stood against the back of the wall, covered with a dark green blanket. A landscape painting of flora and fauna sat above the headboard. A luscious chair that reminded Tazaro of the one he had at his apartment sat in the corner, coupled with a green footrest. Hidden by a bamboo divider, a propped-up bathtub practically big enough for three people stood, lined with bottles of likely fragrant shampoo, conditioners, and soaps.

  “This is...exquisite.” He summed, and upon catching his reflection in the long mirror that spanned the wall, further blushed as it gave an excellent view of the bed, bathtub, and the balcony.

  “Yes, it is. I was bunked in a room off the western stairwell, and the rooms were not nearly this nice.” She explained, opening the shutter doors to the balcony to allow the last of the day’s light to stream in. True to Razi’s word, a spectacular view begged perusing beyond the doorframe to the metal-railed balcony. “Then again, this inn was a brothel at one point in time–long before I passed through here.” She added with a light blush on her cheeks.

  “Oh.” He almost purred, taking another look around in the new filter. Tazaro’s eyes widened slightly, and his eyebrows rose to the roof as he realized the voyeuristic feel of the mirror angle, and he bit the inside of his cheek in excitement. The room had to have cost at least thirty or forty Inue, and Razi had definitely underplayed his act of generosity.

  Best not to waste it. Tazaro thought, unable to fight the naughty smirk on his face.

  In a boyish thrill, he hastily turned and locked the door, checking the handle with a twist and jiggle as the bronze thing cooled his heated palm. As he shrugged off his bag and set it on the floor, Sheeva had already begun to fill the tub, geared down to the white shirt and black pants and supporting herself on the edge of the tub with a hiked-up leg as she untied the strings to her boots.

  He made quick work of his shoes, leaving them by the locked door, then pulled his shirt up and over his head, feeling the cool air flowing in from the balcony. It wicked away the sweat on his chest and made his nipples perk in anticipation. Without bothering to untie his weapons from his waist, Tazaro eagerly loosened his belt and undid his jeans, stepping out of them on his way towards the tub, pausing on his way to at least lean them against the wall in a caring fashion.

  “You know...” He slipped behind her to grab the hem of her shirt and lift it up over her head. The surprise on her face showed his forwardness when exposed from the fabric, and Tazaro flung it aside so that it didn’t get soaked by water. “After we take ourselves a nice, steamy, deserving bath, I’d like to take you up on your offer to compare you to that shot we took.” He smirked, resting his hands on her hips as he pecked the nape of her neck with his lips.

  Her skin rippled instantly with goosebumps at his proposition, and he grinned with her tiny, whispered “oh?” of interest. Tazaro nodded as he steadied her by wrapping his arms around her, slipped a hand beneath her chest bindings, and intently pressed his groin against her to solidify his point. He felt her hands tighten on his forearms as she gasped.

  “Mm-hmm. The first night of the journey together, in an awesome room like this, and a lovely woman to share it with? It’s exciting.” He murmured, giving the nipple of the breast in his hand a gentle pinch as he pulled the ribbon out of its bow and loosened her hair. With a finger under her chin, he tilted her head to his and captured her in a searing kiss, trailing his free hand down her chest to slow it to a stop at her waistline. “Unless you’re too tired? I’m pretty worn out.” He admitted.

  He hummed in delight as she reached a hand up to grab a fistful of his hair and kissed him, using the other to reach behind her and grasp his prodding erection and give it a couple strokes.

  “I’m exhausted, too, but that sounds too fantastic to pass up.” She agreed, giggling as he unraveled the wrappings from around her chest and unfastened her belt and pants, making quick work of the rest of her clothes as he helped her step out of them and into the bath. He stepped in too and sank, taking a brief second to enjoy the soothing heat that seeped into his aching feet and sore back before pulling her in for a kiss as she straddled his hips.

  Impatient hands provided a quick, surprisingly thorough scrub before gently fondling and stroking more intimately, and while Sheeva didn’t taste like the shot of alcohol, Tazaro still gorged himself on her sweetness as her hands tore through his hair and leg tensed around his shoulder. Her breathless command of “look at me” while his head was buried made him hum with skyrocketing arousal, and when she urged him to stand and roughly grabbed his hips as her mouth enveloped him, his eyes rolled as he hissed in a breath and let out a vulgar “Fuck, yes!”

  She held his hips steady, then helped him sit back down as his legs trembled. His head fell back onto the washcloth draped over the tub as he sighed contentedly and basked in bliss, a giddy grin on his face as he lazily stroked her lower back.

  Even after Sheeva pulled the plug and the water drained, they lay there, curled up against one another, placing loving pecks on the other’s skin. When they finally mustered the will to get out and stagger to the bed, sleep took Tazaro quickly as his body sank heavily into the mattress.