Sheeva and Tazaro stared at the corkboard overloaded with flyers that flapped at them with each patron that entered or exited the tavern, causing them to lose track of flyers they had already looked at versus ones still needing to be examined.

  Some were days old, some were months old, and as the fourth person to cause the flyers to flap came or went, Sheeva gave an exasperated scoff and reached for the pins holding the papers to the board. With a grunt, she unpinned the papers and shuffled them into a neater stack with her thigh. As she reached up on the tips of her toes for the flyers lining the top of the board, she scowled at the things just out of reach as the tips of her fingers brushed the bottom of the page and hissed at the sting of a paper-cut. Slipping the injured pad of her finger into her mouth to suckle the wound, she turned to Tazaro for help, managing to keep a straight face rather than pouting like she wanted to at his amused grin.

  “Tazaro, could you–

  –yeah, I could, but watching you struggle is much more–Ow!” He grunted in mock pain as she playfully punched his arm. Still, he honored her request and reached up effortlessly to pull the papers down.

  “Hope Razi doesn’t mind us doing this,” Tazaro muttered, looking over at the bar. Razi hadn’t noticed, too busy taking orders and filling tankards with juice or milk for the morning breakfast rush.

  “I doubt he cares.” She mumbled in reply, still tending to the small bleeding cut. Tracing the sigil for a minor healing spell on her pant leg, she redirected the deliverance to her tongue.

  Sheeva carried the handfuls of papers to a nearby table and began to sort through them, checking dates and automatically discarding things that seemed to have been there for months. The second stack she made compiled potential search-and-rescues they could do, and finally, the third stack contained things that weren’t as pertinent such as pilfered items and personal belongings.

  “You said you were looking for a missing person’s case, right? What about this one?” Tazaro asked, picking up the top poster from the pile of outdated posts.

  Sheeva’s face fell slightly as she realized Tazaro wouldn’t know the bitter truth about search and rescues. Preparing herself to disappoint, she took a deep breath and sighed, taking the paper and giving it an honest double-take in case she was wrong to dismiss it. Unfortunately for the lost man in the picture, the posted date was well past his survival chances.

  She handed it back to him and pointed at the date.

  “The date on this was posted a month ago. The chances of this person still being alive if they haven’t already been found is slim. As a matter of fact, most missing cases are considered dead after a couple of weeks.”

  As his orange irises dropped to the corners of his eyes in dismay, he gave a small, sadly muttered “oh” of understanding.

  “I...I see. I didn’t think of that.” He sat back and fidgeted with the corner of a page in contemplation of the new grim information. In an attempt to break free of it, he shook his head at himself and sat forward, then set to the stack of potentials, growing more and more interested and soothed as he thumbed through them, further separating them between “Lost and Founds,” “Chores,” and other, miscellaneous “Help Wanted” requests.

  Sheeva silently commended him for his ability to pull himself through and returned to the jumbled stack from the board, coming across a “stolen” flyer for a nice-looking leather wallet, and smiled to herself as she wondered how Josef and the others were doing.

  A well of pride in the five of them formed from her stomach to her face, and she made a mental note to write to them and give an update on their travels. Perhaps, if she scrounged or hustled for enough Inue, she could ship a parcel with books, clothes, and any pretty trinkets she found.

  She looked up from the stack and out of pleasant thought as Tazaro snickered at something.

  “I remember you telling me about people searching for pets that were only three blocks away. Think that’s the case here?” He asked, turning the page over so she could see. An orange-tabby ketze dressed in a lacy tutu and matching, frilly bonnet held a look of severe annoyance, being forcefully coddled by a young child as she held it in what had to be an uncomfortable fashion.

  “Oh, that poor thing!” She cooed, giving the animal a look of sympathy. “No, I’m afraid not!” She scrunched her nose at the contender. “I think it would be cruel to–

  –Excuse me, are you two mercenaries for hire?” A desperate voice asked, interrupting Sheeva and bringing Tazaro’s attention away from the stacks of papers.

  A man about as tall as Tazaro with short, black, curly hair and sideburns that moved along into the man’s scruffy beard stood at the side of their table, blue eyes glistening with a pleading look as he clutched a small, now wrinkled stack of papers in his hand. His light green tunic was dirty, and it appeared the man hadn’t showered in a couple of days, stressed by whatever was on the papers he clung so white-knuckled to.

  “Uh, well, no…” Sheeva stopped herself and shook her head. Semantics didn’t matter at the moment. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Sorry–who are you?”

  The man split the papers and practically shoved them in their faces. Sheeva jerked her head back and blinked a couple of times, then took the flyer from his sweaty hands.

  “The name’s Kirt. Please, my kids, they’re–they’re lost. They have been for two days now. My wife Linnea and I have led search parties, but no one-no one can find them.” He explained in a harsh whisper, appearing to be fighting hard to keep his composure.

  Sheeva looked down at the crimped paper and smoothed it out on the table, then, needing better light, almost waved her hand to cast their illumination spell but caught herself before she could summon the energy to her palm. As it fizzled, she eased the itch in her palm by subtly scratching it with the rugged leather of the tail-blade handle she kept attached to her hip. She squinted at the picture instead.

  Two children, a boy named Fritz and a girl named Kallie, stared into the world, and she noted the similarities between the two and their father as she looked back and forth between the page and the man.

  “Fritz is thirteen; Kallie is ten.” The man added, a worried crack to his voice, as though trying to continue to persuade them to take up the task for a “search and rescue.”

  Hopefully, this bodes well; they should be able to somewhat take care of themselves. Perhaps the two children are just trapped somewhere.

  "How long ago did they disappear?"

  "Two, almost three days, miss! Please, help us.”

  Sheeva looked at Tazaro, who gave the slightest of nods, seeming ready to follow whatever she’d decided. Sheeva nodded back and stood with an “ok,” and as the man backed away to let her out of the booth, he looked at them both with hopeful eyes.

  “Does this mean you’ll take the job?” The man asked. She almost gave him a snarky retort but bit her tongue and nodded again. Tazaro must have seen the irritation on her face because he kicked off the conversation and directed the man’s attention onto him.

  “Where were they last seen?”

  “The entrance to the pass.” He stated, seeming still baffled that they were accepting his request as he looked at the both of them while they donned their gear. “Th-thank you! Here, miss, please, take this; it’s Kallie’s–that way, she knows we’re worried about her, it’s her favorite!” The unnamed man insisted, pulling a stuffed animal from his book bag and handing it to Sheeva, who took it in her moment of stunned confusion.

  Turning the fluffy, puffy thing over in her hands, she realized it was a stuffed behemoth, though uncharacteristically pink and purple, with something of a smiling expression. Peaceful and sweet, compared to the real-life things, She caught herself thinking and fought a look of distaste at the adorable, harmless version of the bastardly monsters. If only the real things were this...cute and docile.

  “Ah, no, you keep it. You-you can return it to your daughter yourself.” Sheeva insisted, fighting to ignore the shiver crawling itself up the tail-whip scars lining her back. As he began to protest, she did not give the man a choice and shoved the stuffed animal back into his hands like something infectious. He submitted with a sigh, face contorted into further worry, hope, and pain, and he wrenched the thing in his hands so tightly that Sheeva wondered if he wouldn’t tear it somewhere. Unwilling to watch the man’s further stress as his eyes darted back and forth, she caught eyes with Tazaro and tipped her head, muttering a dismissive “we will come back here upon our return.”

  “W-wait! Here, money, then!”

  Sheeva stopped again and huffed with her arms crossed in impatience but somehow managed to wrangle the clarity together to take a deep, calming breath. She wondered how long she could keep her composure as the thoughts began to swim around in her head.

  “Listen, uh...What was your name, again?” She asked. The man stared at her, stupefied from lack of proper self-care and sleep.

  “It’s Kirt.”

  “Ok. Kirt. Go home to your wife. Get some rest. Do not worry about payment now. Let us search for your children first; their chances of survival are greater the faster we head out to find them.”

  As Tazaro passed, he offered a comforting pat on the man’s shoulder, offering an affirmation of Sheeva’s suggestion with the added advice to “take a bath and eat something.” He knew it had helped him shortly after he’d gotten back to Roussell after his mother’s death.

  With that, Sheeva hurried out of the tavern and into the early-morning sunlight. She let out a breath of relief to be free of the stressed-out man, though her stomach still felt like lead. When she took the brief second to think about it, accepting such a request seemed to weigh heavier than it had before. She had never imagined herself living the life she did now, where the possibility of having her own children and being worried about their well-being could be at her feet.

  It caused her heart to leap into her throat as she stole a glance at the man she could easily see filling the role of loving father to any children they bore.

  As they passed vendors, Sheeva let her thoughts wander, surprised to note how much she seemed to have changed over the last year and a half. Generally, when passing up search-and-rescues involving children, she would hope the child wasn’t scared out of its wits and felt terrible for it, but now? She found it strange she would sympathize with the parents.

  As they paused at the entrance to the pass, Sheeva stared at the towering cliffs, the purple flag of Urul waving at them in the wind from the clifftops. She considered purchasing a map, and as she jingled her coin-purse, found it wanting. They might have to make trail markers with chalk instead.

  “It’s a shame we don’t have anything we could search for them with. That would make this so much–

  She stopped as Tazaro held up his fingers in front of her, pinching something in between his index finger and thumb. It was a thin, single strand of black hair, and upon realizing it was one of Kirt’s, she gasped and jerked her head to look at him, mildly bewildered at his conduct.

  “I, I can’t believe you! Did you just...yank this out of the man’s head?” She asked in hushed disbelief. Tazaro snickered at her and gave her that typical shit-eating grin.

  “No. Plucked it off his shoulder. Still…” He closed his eyes and focused, and Sheeva waited, still trying to collect herself. “It seems to work. Two faint little trails go that way.” He stated, tipping his head in the direction of the pass. His brow furrowed in concern.

  “I hope the fact that they’re faint doesn’t have anything to do with their health.”

  She hoped not, as well, but they had not played around with the spell enough to know.

  Sheeva popped open the lid to the small bandolier tied to her hip and pulled out a thin glass vial for him to put the hair in, then tucked the thing back into its slot for safekeeping. Eager to begin their search, Sheeva led the way as they stepped beyond the large gates and into the winding trail of the pass. On their left side, the trail had been carved into the side of the chasm splitting the two mountain chains, and on the right, the vast, open area waited for unwary people to trip and fall to their untimely deaths.

  As the trail became enclosed in the side of the canyon, their way was lit with tiny, gas-fueled lanterns, and the taps of cautious footsteps became the only sound to echo along the walls.

  “It’s kinda dark in here. Think it’s safe to cast our lights?” Tazaro muttered lowly, checking behind him for eavesdroppers. Sheeva nodded and, feeling that it was safe to, finally cast her orb of light and directed the bouncy bright thing to hover above her head.

  The better lighting illuminated the tunnel they followed, showing it large enough for a wagon on one side and a minecart to plug along tracks on the other. Small pockets of lush, green crystals poked out from the jagged walls. The top and bottom of the tunnel appeared bumpy, uneven from crude removal of stalactites and stalagmites, which Tazaro mentioned were easy to remember which was which; stalactites “have a c for ceiling” and stalagmites “have a g for ground.”

  Happening across a small, carved area for workers to take breaks beside a natural spring, Sheeva and Tazaro rapidly dispelled their lights, the worry driving itself in the pit of Sheeva’s gut as she wondered if anyone had seen the things bobbing along above their heads.

  “Hello?” She called out. Her voice echoed through the clearing, muffled by a circle of pup-tents around a firepit. When there was no answer, Sheeva motioned for Tazaro to search one side of the circle of tents while she split away to search the other.

  In almost all of the tents, things she supposed Tazaro would consider valuable belongings were left behind: satchels of coins, jewels, and even a lockbox that she didn’t feel like wasting time unlocking but guessed was full of jewelry. Bedrolls were upturned, waste-pots knocked over, and shards of broken bottles lay scattered in the occasional space. Picking out a yellow, leather-bound journal from the wreckage, Sheeva flipped through the find the last entry, hoping that whoever had stayed here had at least witnessed two children running amok, but as she saw the date was well into the previous week, her hopes dashed to the ground.

  “I don’t think anyone’s been here for at least a week now, so no one has seen the missing kids,” Sheeva called over to Tazaro as he stooped by an overturned minecart loaded with gemstones.

  “Yeah. Seems left behind in a hurry. Can’t imagine anyone just leaving this here, unless the miners were...run out by something?”

  “Something, huh?” Sheeva muttered, casting a watchful glance over her shoulder and resting her hand on Abraxas.

  “I mean, I’d say ‘someone,’ but you’d think they’d still be here–good or bad.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  As though to distract himself from his “wild imagination,” she watched Tazaro rummage through more of the abandoned belongings, staring at a pair of lanterns with cracked oil reservoirs. His eyes narrowed, and he did the curious head-tilt she’d come to recognize well.

  “What’s up?” She called out, crawling out from the pup-tent she’d netted the journal from. She’d flip through the pages later when they were in the safety of their rented room.

  Rather than voicing his thoughts, he set a lantern upright and waved his hand, casting a ball of light and resting it inside the casing, then lifted it up above his head to check its effectiveness. Aside from the shadow cast by the frame, the lantern held up well.

  “I don’t think whoever used to be here will mind. Figure we can use these to hide our light spells.”

  He held it up for further examination and clicked his tongue.

  “Think anyone will notice the oil drum is broken?”

  Sheeva shook her head in response, reaching for the other lantern he held out to her, testing the action of casting her orb and resting it inside as well. She copied Tazaro’s idea of tying the lantern around his waist.

  “If they do, they’re paying too much attention.”

  Continuing on the way, Tazaro turned the orb to mimic the red-orange glow of an actual lantern, and Sheeva followed suit, but considering the state of the empty clearing, she had a feeling that they wouldn’t come across any wanderers anytime soon.

  Pausing as they came to a fork in the road, Sheeva pulled the vial out and searched. A wispy wave of light directed them towards the middle path that appeared poorly closed-off with a simple sign on a sawhorse stating: “Mines closed, keep out!”

  “I hope they did not go looking for the beast of legend in the mines.” She voiced, creeping past a drafty, vacant elevator shaft. They stopped as Tazaro paused to peer into it, directing his ball of light as far down as it reached. Sheeva watched as it grew dimmer and darker until finally, they couldn’t see it, either because it’d snuffed out from being out of range or because it was too far away. Either way, it did not bode well for the missing if they stumbled into and down one of the things.

  Worried, Sheeva checked for them again, relieved to find the white trail did not go anywhere near the shaft they stood by and instead trailed deeper into the mines.

  “If there is a beast, do you think it has anything to do with the missing kids?” Tazaro asked, recasting his light and taking off after her. Sheeva almost didn’t hear him, too busy scouring the walls with scrutinous eyes.

  “Why? Scared?” She teased, a slight smirk on her face as she glanced over her shoulder at him. He sputtered his lips and rolled his eyes.

  “I think the scariest thing we’ve fought so far was that eight-legged water-strider in the bog, so whatever’s in the mines has a lot of work to do to scare the daylights out of–

  He stopped suddenly as a rush of wind brushed past both of their faces, and, in the distance, they heard the terrible sound of skittering amid clangs of lanterns as they swayed, clicks of chains, and creaks of wood.

  Sheeva’s breath caught in her chest, and her heart began to pound rapidly, coursing energy and adrenaline through her veins as fast as her blood could carry it.

  “Old, uh, mineshafts are drafty, I’ve heard,” Sheeva murmured in an attempt to brush off her heebie-jeebies.

  “Right. If this thing ends up being a big-ass spider, I will not forgive you.”

  “I can accept that.” She answered, pressing onward.

  Like a giant, drafty, stinky sigh, the gushes of wind grew stronger and stronger as they made their way deeper in. Their search grew fruitful as Sheeva noticed a torn scrap of a child’s shirt on a rusty elevator shaft. Sheeva checked their path, and her face fell as she realized the white trail led straight down the shaft. She turned to Tazaro, a saddened expression on her face, and as she struggled to find the words, his face fell in kind.

  “It leads down there, doesn’t it?” He summed. Slowly, she nodded, then peered over the side. Like Tazaro did at the last drop, Sheeva directed her ball of light, surprised when it bounced and rolled to a stop not too far down beneath them. She could barely see the handle of the switch that operated the pulley system that carried people and things between levels.

  “This one doesn’t seem as long of a drop. Hopefully, the kids used the elevator and are just looking around down there, but if not, I hope they survived the fall.” Sheeva suggested.

  “I’ll go first. If it’s safe, I’ll give you the green light.” She announced quietly, shedding herself of her bag to dig in it for the shrunken medical pack. After resizing it and slipping it over her shoulder, she turned back to the open drop and summoned another ball to chuck it down and test the distance.

  When it bounced again and rolled out of sight, her faith in the children's odds of survival increased.

  She bared her wings and lifted the bar blocking the shaft, hesitating at Tazaro’s urgent “Sheeva, wait!” He planted a quick kiss on her lips before pulling away, reminding her to “be safe.”

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  Sheeva nodded to assure him, spread her wings out as much as the cramped space would allow, and pushed off to float down. The sturdy wings caught some air which broke her fall, but if she hadn’t had the last-minute direction of her passive shield to her legs, she feared they would have broken.

  Shaking off the sting from impact, she saw the door to this room was open and that there was a tall creature inside. She slinked into the shadow, hoping the clink of Abraxas’s pommel-stone hadn’t echoed into the room and drawn attention to her. She fished in her pocket for a small compact mirror she carried, flipped it open, and angled it just past the frame to peek into the room.

  A quick hand to her mouth stifled her surprised gasp at the conditions of what appeared to be a crudely fashioned room inside a crystal-lined pocket in the caves. A sharp drop-off to the side made her wonder if it led into the chasm outside of the mines. As she shifted in the metallic dust to tilt the mirror to the left, she saw two small figures she figured were the missing children curled up in a makeshift cage made of bone. Tilting the mirror to the right, she saw the backside of some hairy, smooth-skinned man-beast, pallid and hunched over and grotesque in all its mortifying visage. Its arm was crooked, as though it had broken and never healed correctly, and its nose appeared to be that of a snout, with two giant tusks sticking out of the corners of its mouth.

  She looked back up the shaft and could see Tazaro’s shadowy figure leaning over the side to look down at her. Barely hearing the concerned “are you ok?” whispered harshly in the darkness, she realized Tazaro probably could not see her. Sheeva waved her hand to cast her light, launched the ball up, and twisted it to a shade of crimson. The light trailed a curtain of red along walls that appeared to have scratch marks on their sides.

  The creature in the room that stood as tall as Bartholomew did held enough intelligence to trap and hold its prey, which was not ok. If they were to fight it, they wouldn’t just be fighting something that would attack with reckless abandon–the thing would likely give them a difficult time. But, as she heard thudding footsteps and unintelligible grunting, Sheeva thought against it; maybe, the thing lacked enough smarts for devious tricks. A thud of hollow bone followed by the terrified whimpers and then screams of the children made Sheeva poke her head out from the shadows.

  The creature had Fritz raised into the air by his foot, and all the punching and screaming and kicking proved ineffective as the giant sauntered over to what appeared to be a kettle carved out of stone, a roaring fire lit beneath it and steam rising steadily from the surface of the water inside.

  She shot another ball of light up the shaft that flashed green and darted for them as she drew Abraxas and swung at the creature’s backside, but her blade only zinged against a weaved, stone vest. She rushed to the side and sliced at the creature’s exposed arm between the vest and stone-fashioned wristguards, caught the young boy as he fell, then leaped out of the way as the giant smashed at the ground with a fist.

  “Fritz, free your sister and hide in the elevator shaft!” She ordered, pushing Fritz toward the bone cage and drawing the ogre’s attention upon herself by casting another bright ball of light that exploded in the thing’s face with a loud pop! It stumbled backward with a pained moan and staggered, holding a hand with three fingers and a thumb to its eyes, kicking over the heated kettle in the process and spilling steaming, boiling water on the floor. The pea-shaped, balding head seemed too big for its body, and the large, dopey ears made her think that it would likely be able to pick up on their footsteps if they tried to hide somewhere.

  An angry fist swung at where it assumed her head was, and Sheeva let out a surprised shriek as she felt the wind of it whip past her head. She dodged forward in a roll as it made to slam an open palm down on her and sliced at his laurels as she passed. Like the vest, thick boots weaved together of rocks and hair deflected the sharp edge of her blade.

  Despite being as large as it was, it was still decently fast, and as it swiped at her with a giant fist, it was all Sheeva could do to block the strike with her weapon and catch air as it launched her off her feet.

  “Gotcha!” Tazaro’s voice barked as he broke her fall, steadying her and then pushing her out of the way of another strike, this time aided by a giant club with a knob at the edge. The dull thwack as it knocked against the floor rang in Sheeva’s ears and sent a surge of adrenaline down her back.

  Both of them only seemed able to dodge and avoid, stunned by the towering creature’s size and surprising speed. Its thick vest of rock and hair shielded it from sharp stalactites that shattered at a wild swing of its club on the ceiling. Upon hearing the terrified screams of the children in the room, Sheeva looked to them to ensure they were at least safe.

  A costly decision, since Sheeva took a blow to the gut with the club that broke through her active guard and threw her toward the back. In an attempt to blindside the creature with a stab to the unguarded space in the stone vest, Tazaro received a fist in the chest as the thing swung at him and knocked him away. Still, Tazaro’s efforts were rewarded with a sickly gash that spilled thick, red blood on the ground.

  It plucked Tazaro’s sword out of its armpit like it were a sandwich pick and roared at them. Stricken by indecision, stared at Sheeva, who managed to get to her feet and recast her shield, then at Tazaro, who stood with the assistance of a chair crafted with stone, bones, and more hair.

  Feeling her feet stick to mud, Sheeva looked down, momentarily forgetting the amount of water at her disposal for a spell. She knelt, hoping there was enough water in the mud to make it work, and focused.

  A few thin spikes began to form, but the ogreish creature began to stumble towards Sheeva before they could manage significant shape. Thundering footsteps shook the ground and almost fizzled her spell, but what happened next shocked her.

  A rock hurled through the air and hit the thing square on the forehead, making it stop in its tracks and look around, stupefied. She barely heard Fritz shout out a desperate: “Hey, bucket head!”

  The creature stopped and turned around, grunting out a dumbfounded “urgh?” before angrily stumbling towards Fritz. In his panic, Fritz stepped backward, misjudging his distance between the ledge and the chasm below. As he toppled over the side, Tazaro caught the child and threw him back onto the ledge, bracing the frightened child against an old lamp-post from a broken bridge that spanned the chasm.

  “Let’s trip it into the ravine!” Tazaro called, tying a thread of energy around the post and racing toward the opposite side. Sheeva wasted no time hurling the half-formed spears at the creature. They only shattered against the front of the vest but still assisted in pushing it back. It caught its footing and tried to run toward Sheeva with outstretched hands but didn’t get far. Sheeva watched as a blue-threaded noose looped around the giant’s neck, and with a mighty, effortful grunt, Tazaro yanked back as hard as he could.

  Sheeva took flight and dove, effectively driving her foot into the thing’s chest. A massive hand swiped at her mid-air and caught her off guard, causing her to tumble to the ground and roll aside.

  Her head pounded, and the room spun in a colorful swirl of grey stone, white bone, and sea-foam green gemstones as she pushed herself to her hands and knees. She blinked sluggishly across the way where the beast had toppled over the side, searching for a blurry visage of chestnut hair and bright orange eyes, but as she saw none when her sight cleared, Sheeva’s gut sank.

  She scrambled to her feet and skidded to a halt behind the support of the lamp-post, holding onto it as she leaned over the cliff to peer at the darkness below.

  Here he was, hanging by a literal thread, the rope of energy he fastened to the lamp-post holding up as he stared in what she figured was paralyzing fear at the darkness below. She wondered why he hadn’t flown, but as she saw the faint, blue thread tangled in his wings, she realized he’d wrapped himself up by accident.

  “Tazaro.” She sighed in relief, kneeling down by the edge and extending a hand to him. He looked back at her, eyes wide and appearing just as frightened as she thought. He clung to the rope so tightly that she could see how white his knuckles were, and she shuffled closer to reach for him.

  “Here, take my hand.” She called softly. Hesitant to let go, he nervously reached for one, but as the rope slipped past the edge of the rock, Tazaro returned his hand to the rope and reinforced it, squeezing for dear life.

  “Oh, no. Ok, here, let me just–I’ll-I’ll come to you.” She offered, standing to her feet and lifting herself into the air. Floating down to level with him, she wrapped her arms around his torso and pinned him as well as she could between herself and the side of the cliff.

  “Dispel the rope. I’ve got you.” She assured.

  He tensed, and an estranged whimper escaped his throat.

  “Can’t. Wings are tied up.” He managed through gritted teeth.

  Sheeva held to him tighter and buried her face as well as she could between his shoulder and neck, and she could only imagine how badly his muscles would ache with how fiercely he trembled. She hoped she wasn’t awkwardly pinching his wings, but with how tangled they’d been, it was doubtful. It didn’t seem to pierce his fear, either.

  “Release your spell, and they won’t be. Trust me, Z, I’ve got you.”

  Offering him the opportunity to pull through, Sheeva refrained from immediately casting a bemusing spell–A good decision as Tazaro relaxed slowly, then nearly collapsed in her grasp. His hands clutched to the porous rock of the cliffside as the thread slowly dissipated from between his fingers. The ruffled feathers smoothed out as the thread disappeared from around them, too, shifting back into place as he wiggled them free of their confined, cramped state.

  “Are you two okay?” Fritz’s voice echoed down to them. Sheeva blinked as a rope hit the top of her head, then looked up. Two heads looked back down at them.

  “We’re alright!” She assured. Testing the rope’s give, she tugged at it, then tied the slack around Tazaro’s chest, hoping it would further tether him to a safe enough mindset that he could start an ascent.

  “Think you’re ready to move? Let’s get some solid ground beneath your feet.” She encouraged, gently urging him up with a push.

  This spurred him, and while he didn’t push off to take flight but instead began to climb with shaking hands, Sheeva held tightly to his shirt to further motivate and support.

  Reaching the top of the ledge, she found herself surprised when the children didn’t shy away in fear at their winged state but instead helped pull them away from the edge–even if their tiny hands didn’t hold the strength to really drag them anywhere.

  Before either of them could catch their breaths, they were bombarded with “thank-you’s” and weeps, and to add to Sheeva’s further surprise, weak, little bearog hugs. She offered an awkward pat on Kallie’s blonde head, stilling for a moment in concern.

  “You are not frightened of us, Kallie?”

  “You two are Valkyria, right? Here to save us? We prayed to the gods someone would save us, and here you are!”

  Sheeva cast a sideways look to Tazaro, whose wide eyes and bashful smile mimicked her own as he gave her a shoulder-shrug. Perhaps they wouldn’t say anything and allow the kids to come to their “silly” conclusion.

  “Aren’t you?” Fritz asked for clarification.

  Sheeva cleared her throat. How could they possibly begin to explain their super-sferran states?

  “Ah, well...suppose if it helps you, you can call us that. My name is Sheeva, and this is Tazaro. Your father sent us to look for you.” Sheeva murmured with a soft chuckle. When she attempted to move Kallie off her lap, the ten-year-old clung tighter to her and whimpered. Perhaps I should have kept the bastardly stuffed behemoth, Sheeva thought. Still, the act was humbling, and she allowed herself to coddle Kallie with tender combing of fingers through her hair and rocking back and forth when she began to weep. Their cries and fervent statements of their terrifying ordeal began, and Sheeva offered a comforting hand for Fritz to take.

  “We were-were so s-scared!”

  “I wouldn’t let that thing hurt my sister!”

  “He snatched us up when we reached the singing crystals and took us back to the mines!”

  “We thought we’d never get free!”

  Once they were soothed and had both agreed that they were ok and able to leave, Sheeva gently moved Kallie off of her lap and shuffled herself to her feet, wincing at a bruise already beginning to form on her hip from the roll along the ground. She brushed off the dust from her clothes, then flapped her wings to shake off the dirt, angling it as she felt a spot of caked mud.

  “Ugh. I’ll need to bathe again.” She muttered, not looking forward to “preening,” as Tazaro put it. Somehow, it always made her feel more like an animal than a Sferran. She shuddered as she felt the grit of dirt upon retracting the massive wings, then waved her hand to cast a light and stick it in the lantern. The lantern was further crushed, and she hoped Tazaro would be able to straighten it out somewhat. If not, perhaps they could craft something better.

  Casting a scanning spell on the two kids, she made a point to lift their spirits with a cheerful delivery by tapping them on the nose instead of the forehead. They were dehydrated and starving but otherwise unharmed, and she sighed in relief at the fact.

  It was a good thing she’d saved a couple of the breakfast croissants and apples, but as she searched behind her for the bag the morsels were tucked away in, she remembered that she’d left it at the top of the elevator shaft. Humming at herself in mild disappointment, she reached for her medical rations instead and handed them two energy pellets, a slab of jerky, and a canteen of water.

  “I’d offer more, but this is all I have. We will double back for my bag on our way out; there are more filling things in there that you may eat.”

  By the time the two had devoured the meager offerings, Tazaro had only sat up, appearing star-struck as he stared at the ledge with a disappointed look on his face.

  “Hey. You good?” She called to him, holding out a hand for him to take. Sluggishly, he blinked at it for a second, then sighed, sputtering his lips at himself in embarrassment.

  “No. I...I froze up. ‘M sorry.” He mumbled after a moment of silence.

  Sheeva sighed, dropped her hand when he didn’t take it, then knelt at his side.

  “It’s...It is alright. Most of us are terrified of something.”

  “It’s not–He stopped, then tutted at something. “Anything can kill us on this journey. We could fall to our death. Be mauled and eaten by wild animals–gods forbid, poisonous bugs...” He trailed off, and Sheeva wondered if the spit at his discomfort with creepy-crawlies was an attempt at a ploy to make himself feel slightly better, but she doubted so. “Not just Zakaraia.” He finished. His eyes widened as he seemed to remember that they were not alone and looked over at the two children, who’d stood and brushed themselves off.

  “We will talk later, Tazaro, if you still need it?” Sheeva promised, looking around for an exit while trying to keep her darkening thoughts at bay. It wasn’t as effective as she’d hoped as they inched their way and twisted themselves into her gut.

  Tazaro was right. Anything could kill them. Her brush with the behemoth and the Iphsium den was proof enough of that.

  “Do you know if the elevator works?” Sheeva asked, eager to get out of the room that seemed now chillier than it had before they’d entered.

  “Yes, it does. He’d come and go that way.”

  "I see." She murmured, stepping towards the construct, lifting the lantern to cast the light inside of it. Spotting a hook on the corner of the metal lift, she unfastened the lantern and hung it, then stepped aside for the others to filter in.

  After flipping the switch, the lift jerked to a start, the chains clinking against the metal framework. Nothing was said for the trip up, but as Kallie whimpered and clung to Sheeva's pant leg, she patted the child's shoulder.

  Sheeva retrieved the two golden, buttery pastries she had packed for herself and Tazaro and four of the apples, doling out one to each of them before slinging the bag over her shoulder. Returning the lantern to her hip, she offered her hand to Kallie, then focused, noting the strong wisp of white leading them back in the direction they entered from hours earlier.

  With a belly full of nerves, Sheeva answered almost all of their questions with a blunt response and only shied away when asked if the two of them were married, though she definitely noticed Tazaro become mysteriously taciturn and linger behind a few paces in thought.

  She'd tried to tell herself that he was merely thinking about his morose, bitter truth about the circumstances of their journey, but with the pacified smile on his face, Sheeva felt strongly otherwise.

  Still, the dripping of water off pointy stalactites and echoes of footsteps did nothing to distract her heartfelt thoughts. Why not get married–now–when they have both their lives in their hands? When else would they have a prime opportunity before, gods forbid, something drastic should happen? What if they waited too long and missed out on something so… Sacred?

  She snorted as the thought crossed her mind that, instead of waiting for him to ask as people traditionally did, she could just ask him herself, but it made her stop on a dime.

  Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a breath as her heart leaped into her chest. Glancing behind her at the gentle, strong, supportive man she’d come to know so deeply, a wave of deep-rooted peace swept over her. It curled her mouth into a smile and made her sigh unnaturally dreamily, and when she chuckled at herself, she could feel the heat on her cheeks and upon her chest.

  Sheeva slowed her pace and reached for Tazaro’s hand, offering it a grateful squeeze as though to silently gesture towards all the marvelous things he’d helped her experience.

  “What’s up?” He asked in a jovial, almost worried tone that she definitely caught on to.

  “Ah, well, I…” She began, then “tsked” at herself. “We’re almost out of here. Let us just hurry and go.”

  As they reached the entrance to the pass, Sheeva gently stopped Fritz and Kallie with a nervous tug on their shoulders.

  "Wait a moment, please. I would like to ask you two to keep our wings and magic a secret. Could you do that for us?" Sheeva asked, feeling the tension of worry on her brow.

  Fritz looked to his younger sister, who looked at her older brother in turn. They smiled and turned back to Sheeva and Tazaro.

  "Yes, ma'am, sir! You saved us! Your secret is safe with us!" Fritz promised.

  Satisfied, Sheeva offered to take their hands and led the two children through the streets towards the inn where Kirt was supposed to be waiting for them. Upon entry, they weren't surprised to find the place packed, but sitting in the same booth she and Tazaro had shared that morning was the shell-shocked man and who had to be his wife, judging by the way they clung to each other's hands.

  "Mam! Ot?t!" The two children cried, jerking their hands away from Sheeva's to run to their parents and barrel into them with open arms. She fought back a scoff as Kallie took the stuffed behemoth and squeezed it tight, finding the action itself incredibly adorable. She hadn’t thought of it in a long time, but her lips curled as she recalled the stuffed bearog she had, lovingly dubbed “Ardelia.” The old thing was hopefully doing well in Yelena’s care.

  Sheeva could not voice the joy she felt in a job she considered done well and barely noticed the grin on her face as she watched the tearful reunion of the family. A large hand grasped hers, and she jumped, mildly startled, but relaxed and beamed at Tazaro as he leaned in and pecked her cheek.

  "I hope this has helped to give you some closure, my dear. You certainly seem pleased. I'm happy for you and proud of you. Of us, too, but mostly for you."

  Sheeva chuckled and felt the modesty take over again. "My dear" made her gush with cheer and bashfulness, and she found herself only able to whisper back a shy, grateful "yes, it has been" before interruption by the ecstatic parents.

  "Thank you, both of you! Please, take this–and don't refuse it this time!" Kirt insisted, thrusting a hefty satchel of coins into their hands.

  Sheeva chewed on her lip to prevent protesting because she had refused the gift the first time. Still, the weight of the coins seemed lighter than the unease of accepting the offer. Perhaps, if she were to spend the money on something useful, it would ease the discomfort of accepting what felt like a couple hundred Inue.

  “It’s not all coins, sweetie. There are some gemstones my husband dug up in the mines.” Kirt’s wife explained, prying open the pouch and turning it over in Sheeva’s hands. As she thumbed through, there were a plethora of ones to choose from, and she eyed an elegant, oval-shaped sea-foam green diamond. “Perhaps you can sell them for cash in a pinch or so.”

  “They are beautiful. Thank you.” She replied, shuffling the coins and gems back into the pouch and closing it off by tugging the drawstrings. After burying the thing in her pocket, she managed to mutter an excuse for them to take their leave, a well-timed yawn aiding her attempt to leave the reunited family alone.

  More than a want to give the family space but a need to gain some sweet seclusion for herself and Tazaro, she had things she wanted to discuss, still intent on holding up her promise of talking to Tazaro about whatever he had needed to while they were in the mines. She paused by Razi’s counter to slip a ten-Inue into his palm for the green room they still had most of their belongings in and joined arms with Tazaro as she urged them on their way.

  The lush green room greeted them, the bedding still messily strewn into a half-attempt at making the bed that they were only going to be sharing again tonight. After shrugging off the bag, Sheeva slacked it against the wall and hung Abraxas carefully around the post on the right of the headrest, then toward the tub to fill it.

  With a slow, lazy hand, she stirred in a dab of lavender-scented soap, finding peace in the childish joy of a rare bubble bath.

  “Would you like to join me? You could use some preening, yourself.” Sheeva offered with a teasing sneer. He scoffed and smirked back at her.

  “Oh, we’re animals, now? I thought we were Valkyria.” He replied with a snicker. Still, he softened in a pleased, bashful smile and shook his head at something. He draped Tyrj and Laerso over the post on the left of the headboard, then sat down on the chest at the foot of the bed as he untied his shoes.

  Sheeva focused on stripping herself, then bore her wings to stretch to her full potential, but snapped her head up as she heard Tazaro hiss in pain at something.

  “What?” She asked. He scowled at first, then she watched him struggle to take off his shirt. He hissed again as he tried to raise his arm, unable to get the shirt up past his midline.

  “Shoulder’s bugging me. It’s, it’ll be fine, I just gotta–Ow! Fuck!” He muttered, trying to finagle his shirt off in a different way.

  Sheeva turned off the water and stepped over to him, forming the sigils in the air for a scan as she passed, leaving behind a wispy trail lingering in the air. Softly, she tapped his forehead for deliverance and peered at what the string of symbols had to offer. Other than mild bruising and exhaustion, he was fine.

  She cast another spell that Dr. Marx had taught them before they left, and as she hovered her hand over his shoulder, frowned as she found the muscles around the previous wound had unyieldingly tensed themselves. After helping him wriggle out of his shirt carefully, she took his hand and led him to the hot bath. She stepped in, sat him down, and began to massage his shoulder gently, trickling a healing spell into the dense muscle, admiring the curvature.

  “You have a habit of falling over cliffs, you know. It’s not nice to scare me like that.” She whispered softly, huffing a little at her own quip. She tugged him back to lay against her, pecking his crown with her lips as she draped her arms around him in a small embrace.

  “Mm. We’ll just say I have a habit of, uh, falling for you.” He grinned back. Still, the grin faded slowly, replaced by a deep scowl and tired eyes that welled with concern.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking about what you said in regards to us dying at any point in time. The truth is–you’re right. We most certainly can, but...I believe that together, our chances are far better than they would be. You’re a good man, and you’ve grown a lot, and I-I’m proud of you, too.” She rambled, scooping cupfuls of water with her hands and dribbling them down his chest. She felt him sigh in comfort and shuffled to let him sink further into the water. It swept over his aching shoulder, ebbing and flowing with his deep, lax breaths as she began to comb her fingers through his hair.

  She hastened a quick clean of their bodies and gently worked a lathering of soap on the dirtied, caked portions of their feathers, trailing her fingers with the thread of the vanes and rinsing them off with fresh water as she drained the tub and let the faucet flow. As if to further drive her sincerity, she even dried the both of them off, patting Tazaro’s wings dry as carefully as possible to avoid crimping any delicate feathers.

  Once done, Sheeva paused, realizing how intimately she’d come to know him. She definitely would not want such a thing with any other man, and as she recalled a brief conversation with Vincent, the epiphany struck her heavily upside the head. A short, sudden gasp cooled her lips as she sucked in an excited breath at the thought, then swallowed hard as the nerves of uncertainty began to strangle her gut.

  “Tazaro?” She whispered, the towel slipping from her hands as she grinned from a mix of pride, joy, and anxiousness. She chuckled at herself and hugged him around his middle, shielding her face from the mirror’s reflection.

  “I cannot think of a better man for myself. I love you, and would...I want to be connected with you, for eternity.” She stated sheepishly, voice cracking from the swell of emotions coursing through her. “If...if you would accept that.”

  She felt him tense, then begin to fidget with the fingers on her hands as he relaxed, though his heart beat just as frantically as hers as he held her hand to his chest. Lifting her head from his shoulder to glance in the mirror for help in reading his reaction, she gasped and looked away shyly in response to his broad grin and sparkling, awestruck eyes.

  Realizing that this mild, spur-of-the-moment confession was going well, she squeezed him and took a deep breath for encouragement. She heard him utter a surprised “huh,” stammer as he attempted to speak, and, unwilling to hear any words of protest, Sheeva shut her eyes and forced the words from her mouth before she could stop herself.

  “What I mean to say is: Tazaro, would you want to marry?”