Matt awoke to a rustling. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes as sheets were tugged across his body, baring a diagonal split of his unclothed chest. He quickly ducked away to grab his shirt, which he threw half over himself before catching a waft of its smell. Biting back a gag, he dropped the shirt back onto the floor and swung his legs out of the covers, glancing behind him to make sure Tassel wasn’t seeing him half-naked. Tassel, thankfully, seemed to be sleeping soundly, having wrapped himself in the sheets at Matt’s expense.

  Dawnlight began to filter through the dusty windows of the apartment as Matt snuck to the door, gooseflesh poking up from his bare skin. He peeked out into the hallway, raced to the bathroom when he saw no one, then repeated the dash when he had finished. Seeing that Tassel was still fast asleep, he turned to Tassel’s closet and rummaged through it until he found an unassuming pair of black pants and a pressed linen shirt. Pulling them on, he glanced back towards the bedside before padding through the hallway and out into the living room.

  “Matt,” came a voice from the kitchen that could only be Lana’s. “Morning.”

  Matt felt the corners of his mouth rise by a mere sliver. “Morning. Find anything for breakfast?”

  “Rachel’s out shopping.” Lana pulled the kitchen door open, ushering Matt inside before shutting it behind him. “She’s been out for a while, actually. She should be back any minute.”

  Lana’s face changed then, to something Matt had no hope of reading. She crossed to the little window and looked out over the street below, which was just beginning to fill with the first few busybodies brave enough to break the stillness of the dawn.

  Matt stepped towards her, tiny wings fluttering restlessly in his stomach. “Is something wrong?”

  Lana turned to face him, smiling. “No. Sorry. Takes me a while to get going in the mornings.”

  Matt smiled back. “You’re more awake than I am. Sleep well?”

  Lana bit her lip. “Woke up a couple times. My dorm’s not comfortable, but at least it’s not a floor.”

  “I wish I could say the same.” Matt hooked a hand behind his head. “I could have drowned in that bed without waking up for it. After so long living on the road…”

  Lana chuckled. “I suppose I can’t complain.”

  A quick metallic chink sounded from the living room, followed quickly by a quiet creak. A few footsteps later, Rachel stood in the kitchen doorway, her arms full of bread and cheese. Matt and Lana rushed to empty her load onto the counter until Rachel could let the rest tumble out onto the untreated wood herself, letting out a relieved breath as she did so.

  “Morning, Matt,” she said quietly, evidently in no mood to wake the fourth member of the household.

  “Hey,” Matt said, a slight flutter racing through him at the sight of her. Her face was pink, but not flushed, as if the grocery run had been more of a mental effort than a physical one. “Good run?”

  “Apparently you have to get out early to get the good stuff,” Rachel said, sniffing and turning to the counter. “It wasn’t too long after dawn, and the eggs were already almost gone.”

  Matt decided it would be best not to ask whether she had shopped at a market or at a more permanent establishment. He hadn’t exactly seen an Albertson’s on his way back to Tassel’s the previous day.

  Twenty minutes later, the living room filled with the scent of fried eggs and unfamiliar herbs as Rachel served a still-steaming breakfast on three wooden plates. They had needed to move to the living room to make use of the wood stove, since Tassel’s cooktop was nothing more than a thick slab of cast iron that he heated with his mind, and Rachel seemed to be unwilling to break her cover as a witch so soon. Though the girls seemed perfectly happy to sit cross-legged with their plates in their laps, Matt’s newfound leg muscles protested vehemently, forcing him to eat while leaning to one side.

  “Mm,” Lana said, closing her eyes as she bit down on the runny yolk of one of her eggs. “Tastes… like home, somehow.”

  Rachel’s eyebrows twitched upwards for a moment, then relaxed. “Coastie breakfast must be similar no matter where you live, I guess.”

  Lana exhaled. “Herbs are different. We don’t use rock salt, but we should really start. This tastes divine.”

  Matt took a bite of his own breakfast and found that Lana was right - it tasted delicious. The eggs tasted creamier than chicken eggs back on Earth, and the herbs tasted totally unfamiliar, but he still made a mental note to beg Rachel to teach him her recipe.

  “What was life like?” Rachel inquired in a low voice, inching closer to Lana. “In Kadara, I mean.”

  Lana looked down and sighed. “I don’t… really know how to describe it. It was a normal life. We grew up in the shadow of the uprising, of course, but-”

  “Hold on,” Rachel interrupted. “Uprising?”

  Lana smiled, her eyes brightening. “The last nail in the coffin of the Theic Age. Kadara was the last nation besides the kingdom of Meridon to revolt against their deity. After Ebera’s prophets fell, copycat insurgents employed Eberans and disgruntled Kadari to-”

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Never mind,” Rachel interjected. “Your life. Go on.”

  Lana’s face fell. Something died in Matt’s chest, driving him to defend Lana, but he couldn’t find the right words before she started speaking once again.

  “I suppose the best way to describe it would be easy. I had a good family, good parents. I went to a school whose specialty in history was the only reason I was accepted into the High School at Trensicourt. I… had a couple of partners, but none for very long. It wasn’t anything special.”

  Rachel gave Lana a genuine smile. “Thanks for sharing. Sorry I… you know.”

  Something passed between them that Matt couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t quite an understanding, but it was an acknowledgment of some kind - an apology wrapped in a less telling expression. Silence reigned for a long moment as the trio finished their food, then began to shrink away as they cleaned.

  “Tassel?” Rachel asked quietly, directing the question at Matt.

  “Blanket thief,” Matt complained. Lana snorted.

  “Good to know,” Rachel said sardonically. “He’s still asleep?”

  “Yeah, as far as I know. What’s-”

  “Good.” Rachel stacked the last clean plate on a wooden rack by the window. “We need to buy some clothes before Tassel sees you in his stuff.”

  Lana’s eyebrows shot up, evidently finally understanding why Matt had been dressed so finely. “Those are his?”

  “Don’t rub it in,” Matt grumbled, leading the girls to the living room and throwing on his shoes. “If my clothes weren’t rancid from travelling…”

  Lana frowned. “You smelled like the forest, mostly. Yesterday, I mean.”

  Matt had to admit that that was a huge relief. “Not today.”

  “Sweat lingers for longer,” Rachel said matter-of-factly as they stepped out onto the street. “The market had a couple of weavers an hour ago. Let’s hope they’ve still got stock.”

  ? ? ?

  They, in fact, still had quite a bit of stock. Most of the brightly-coloured garments had been claimed, but Matt contented himself with a dark green sweater, brown work pants and a tan long-sleeve shirt. Rachel, evidently content with her current traveling clothes, tried on less functional outfits. She and Lana both swooned over a dark-caramel dress that shone like satin in the morning light, but were quickly repudiated by its dizzying price tag.

  It was refreshing, Matt thought, to see how happy Rachel seemed when she spoke to Lana. They seemed more at ease together when Matt wasn’t expressly included in the conversation, which annoyed him less than it probably should have. He found it easier to observe than to speak.

  He wondered whether Rachel would ever feel so at ease when she spoke with him.

  Quickly enough, they all paid for their wares and hurried out of the market, the smell of freshly baked bread clinging like dew to their clothes. Rachel, as usual in Tassel’s absence, led the way back to the apartment.

  “You even walk like a local,” Lana said, skipping to catch up with Rachel.

  Rachel smiled. “Probably because I’ve got somewhere to be.”

  Matt ran to Rachel’s other side. “I still walk like a traveler?”

  “Mm,” Rachel said, cocking her head pensively. “More like a vagabond.”

  Matt, not quite knowing what that word meant, laughed. “Like a thief?”

  “More like someone who makes a habit of getting stolen from,” Rachel sniped.

  “That’s not very nice,” Matt complained. “Just because it’s my first time in a big city…”

  “And that’s exactly why you’d be a prime target for thieves,” Rachel interjected. “You’re lucky that Lana and I actually enjoy your company. This place would eat you alive.”

  Matt wrinkled his nose and faded back from the girls. “Not my fault the city interests me.”

  Rachel did not reply. Matt, not for the first time, wished he could just be himself without worrying so much about breaking cover. It was already bad enough that Rachel so vehemently disliked him. The fact that he couldn’t even defend himself without leaking information was infuriating.

  Lana leaned in close to Rachel and whispered something Matt couldn’t hear. His cheeks, the filthy bastards, flushed with shame. They were talking about him, no doubt.

  Anger welled up in Matt’s throat, and he opened his mouth before rational thought could catch up and close it.

  “You know you dragged me on this stupid trip,” Matt huffed. “Not the other way around.”

  Rachel spun around and shot Matt a withering glance. “You say that as if I’ve-”

  Lana reached out and gripped Rachel’s shoulder, tightly enough to cut Rachel off. Rachel spun back around just in time to veer left down the alleyway to Tassel’s apartment, picking up her pace enough to signal that the conversation was clearly over.

  Matt, however, refused to back down. “Lana, go straight upstairs. Rachel and I seem to need to talk.”

  “You’re telling me,” Lana grumbled. “Figure yourselves out.”

  They entered the diminutive doorway, and Lana jogged upstairs as instructed. Rachel almost followed her, but Matt reached out and grabbed her forearm, forcing her to stay.

  “Rachel,” Matt said - not pleading, but asking.

  Rachel sighed loudly and sat down hard on the stairs, producing a mighty creak. “Yeah.”

  Matt let the silence hang for a moment. This was not the time for unplanned words. A soft film of dust descended as Lana moved about upstairs, but Matt felt no need to shake it off. Rachel, on the other hand, spasmed for a brief moment to rid her hair of the offensive material. It smelled neglected - not rotten, not unpleasant, just… lonely.

  “Rachel,” Matt repeated, breaking the bond of silence. “You’ve come back to Lyrian. You might find Jason soon. We might. You… I don’t know. I thought you’d be happy.”

  It was all he could say. The fact that he was unhappy seemed to mean nothing to her, but maybe… maybe she was feeling just as awful as he was.

  “I’m happy,” Rachel said offhandedly.

  Matt scoffed. “Happy people don’t treat unhappy people like this.”

  Rachel stopped for a moment, then let out a long breath. “Yeah, okay. You’re right. We need to talk.”

  And so they did.