The air was still and the stars were just starting to peek out in the early evening Vyrden sky. Petunia stood at the edge of a stream, head lowered, drinking in the careful way of her kind—lips pursed, pulling water through in measured sips.

  The stream burbled pleasantly. The forest was settling into its nighttime rhythms. Crickets, frogs and owls all contributed their voices to the dusk chorus. Peaceful.

  A nightmare is drinking from a stream.

  Schlorp.

  She latched onto something smooth and alive.

  There was a moment of shared panic.

  The nightmare jerked back with a wet pop. An eel splashed indignantly back into the water.

  "Oh—oh no, I'm so sorry!" She said. "I didn't see you."

  "Well," said the eel, resurfacing, "that's one way to say hello."

  The nightmare blinked. "I—what?"

  The eel drifted closer, voice warm with amusement. "I'm Shine. And if you wanted to get that close, darling, you could've asked."

  "I really didn't," The nightmare said earnestly. "I just drink like that."

  "Mmm," the eel purred. "Dangerous habit."

  The nightmare tilted her head, considering. There was something playful in the eel's tone. Not mocking.

  "I'll try to be more careful," she said.

  "Don't try too hard," the eel said. "I didn't mind."

  Two more ripples joined them.

  "Shine," said a sharper voice, "stop flirting with the large… uh…" The second eel paused. "What are you, exactly?"

  "I”m a Nightmare," the horse creature said.

  "What’s your name, darling?," Shine asked.

  “I’m Petunia.”

  "Petunia," Keen repeated, testing the name. "That's... softer than I expected."

  "My mother had a sense of humor," Petunia said.

  A third eel surfaced briefly, nodded once at Petunia, and sank back down without a word.

  "That's Still," Shine said. "She don’t really talk much."

  “Understandable.” Petunia mused. “Say I haven’t met eels in these streams before, what do I owe the pleasure to?”

  Keen made a tight circle, then stopped. "I'm heading south."

  The shift in tone was abrupt. Petunia's ears swiveled forward. "South?"

  "Eldmere," Keen said, as if finishing a thought he'd already been having.

  “Oh?” Said Petunia, “What’s the occasion?”

  “I don't usually follow problems downstream."

  Petunia lowered her head slightly, watching Keen's precise movements in the water. "What problem?"

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  "There's an invasion," Keen said. “And it sounds messy."

  The stream burbled on, indifferent.

  Petunia didn't move. Didn't ask questions. Just waited.

  Keen continued in that same matter-of-fact tone, "And, where there’s invasions, there’s problems. I’m going south to gather information."

  "Invasions. They usually result in sickness," Petunia said quietly. "Displacement. Death."

  “All those things are possible,” Keen said. “We might get lucky.”

  A frog called from somewhere upstream. Another answered.

  Shine drifted closer to Petunia's hooves, watching her. "You're thinking."

  Petunia was looking south, where the stream narrowed and disappeared into darker forest.“If those things happen,” Petunia said, “someone will have to deal with what’s left.”

  Still surfaced again, silent, listening.

  "That's not our part," Keen said. "We carry information. Watch. Report."

  "No," Petunia agreed. "It's mine."

  Shine made a soft sound—approval, maybe. Or understanding. "We're staying. Someone needs to keep an eye on Vyrden."

  Petunia nodded.

  She stepped back from the water's edge, wings settling against her sides with a soft rustle.

  "I'll walk with you," she said to Keen.

  Keen slithered in another circle, testing the current. "It’d be nice to have a traveling companion."

  "Nice," Shine echoed, swimming up beside him. "That's one word for it."

  Shine surfaced near the bank one more time, looking up at Petunia with something that might have been genuine fondness. "Try not to get yourself killed, darling."

  "No promises," Petunia said mildly.

  "She's joking," Keen said from downstream.

  "I'm really not," Petunia replied.

  Shine laughed—a rippling, hissing sound. "I like you."

  "The feeling's mutual."

  Still surfaced beside Shine, silent as always.

  Keen turned downstream. Petunia fell into step along the bank beside him, her dark coat blending into the evening shadows, matching Keen's pace. Her hooves made soft sounds in the moss and leaf litter, while Keen hardly made a sound as he swam with the current.

  Behind them, Shine and Still turned upstream, their sleek bodies cutting through the darkening water until they were just ripples, then nothing.

  The forest deepened around Petunia and Keen. The trrrrrrring of the night jars kept them company. Something small rustled through the underbrush and went still when Petunia passed.

  The stream sang its endless song. The stars were out properly now, bright and cold overhead.

  "You said there's an invasion," Petunia said eventually. "Do you know who's coming?"

  "The western Kingdom," Keen said. "Garanwyn."

  Petunia's hooves hit the ground in steady, measured beats. She didn't speak for several moments.

  "I see," she said finally.

  "The true king of Eldmere fled," Keen continued. "Everyone thinks he's dead. So it’s complicated but the Druid Bedwyr suggested my skills could be useful."

  "And you're going to help him."

  "If I can," Keen corrected. "Can't help if nobody knows what's actually happening."

  Another silence. Not uncomfortable. Just two professionals heading toward work.

  "Bedwyr," Petunia said. "I've heard that name."

  "Most creatures have," Keen said. "He's old. Very old. Makes skeletons glow in graveyards to keep humans away."

  "Practical. I like that. How does he do that?"

  “Some would say magic,” Keen said. “I don’t.” Keen said, then mused, "He'd probably like you."

  Petuna didn’t reply.

  The path widened. The stream beside them picked up speed, tumbling over stones. They walked the entire night.

  They traveled on. The night deepened. The moon rose—just past full, bright enough to paint the world in silver and shadow.

  Petunia moved quietly through it all, nearly invisible in her black coat. Only the moonlight caught on the tips of her fangs and the edges of her wings.

  Keen was just a dark ribbon in the water, surfacing occasionally to breathe or check their progress.

  He surfaced briefly about an hour before dawn. "There's a ford ahead. Not near people. Good place for us to rest when the sun comes up."

  "I appreciate you thinking of that." Petunia found herself oddly touched by this small consideration. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome."

  Somewhere ahead, Eldmere waited.

  But for now there was just the road, the stream, and two creatures heading towards trouble.

  Because someone had to show up.

  Someone had to make sure information flowed and the dead were treated with respect.

  The work didn't do itself.