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“I’m afraid your very presence is always a distraction,” Avenay replied, then gasped.

Enid fought the smile on her lips but couldn’t stop it. “Oh?” She gripped Avenay’s hip tighter then, tugging her closer. The seraphe bither lower lip. Enid could kiss her right there if she could only shut up the persistent, nagging voice in her head saying, “You might be in mortal danger.”

Another noise began to fill the air as they trekked, low at first, then loud and whooshing, and in her fatigue, it took her a moment to realize what it was.

“Water!” Avenay said, then continued at Enid’s confused expression, “The path was next to a river. We needed to find the river.”

Onora heard her exclamation and glanced back, only to walk faster in the direction of the sound. It grew louder with each step. They walked through a canopy of vines that hung lifeless with no will to fight or attack.

“I think we can stop casting light,” Vasu said, coming up next to her.

“Do you need help?” Enid asked, eyeing him with concern.

The elf smiled wanly. “No, I was not casting as much as Avenay. I’m fine for now, but I could rest soon.”

Enid pulled Avenay tight to steady her step, their bodies pressing close, Avenay’s hands resting on her chest. She tried to tug them free, but Enid’s grip on her was too tight. Enid didn’t want to let her go. Shestill felt that aching, desperate need to touch her, to taste her, to feel the closeness of their bodies.

Enid’s grip loosened and Avenay stepped back, quickly diverting her attention to the river, eyes going wide.

Along its edge was an age worn path.

Chapter 18: Enid

Weeds and vines tumbled over the path, obscuring it mostly, creeping in-between carved stones. The ancient road wended up through the forest, following along the side of the river.

“Did the originalTales of Lemiadescribe the path this way?” Enid asked.

Tears lined Avenay’s eyes. “Yes.” She pointed ahead. “See how the road is made of white stone with black on the edges?” Enid hadn’t noticed that, but she could see it now. Bits of aged black rock peaked through the foliage. Avenay’s voice was breathy with her next words, asmall glow emanating all around her. “Exactly likeThe Tales of Lemia. A road along the riverside, white stone with lines of black hemming it in.”

Enid whistled. “That’s amazing. All this time everyone has thought it was some made up fairytale and Cirro wasn’t real. We’re going to find it, aren’t we? The ruins of Cirro?”

Avenay smiled. “I think we are.”

Avenay shot a glance at the other seraphs, the quiet addition to her sentence, “if they let us,” evident in her worried face. Enid wouldn’t let the seraphs stop them. In that moment, she resolved that no matter how much trouble she got into, no matter how much it angered Dryston, she would help Avenay find Cirro.

Avenay took a step away from Enid, standing on her own and the loss of her warmth and proximity hit like a blow. Goddess’ tits, she needed to get a hold of herself. Avenay was just another female.

She’s not, though.

Enid shoved that uncomfortable thought away. If Avenay were just another beautiful female that Enid had fixated on, then she could be in control of it all. Then she could hedge in her feelings, settle them into a nicely defined box. But these feelings were like falling, and if she didn’t catch herself, every bone in her body would crush on impact at the end of it.

“Let’s stop here,” Kaemon said. “It’s almost nightfall and with the river, we have less open area to watch.”

Setting up camp, they pulled out dried meats and cheese and ate them in a tired silence, no words spoken, only a grateful rest falling over the group. The firebird stole glances at Avenay, but she seemed disinterested in talking it out with him.

Scratches and cuts ran deep along Enid’s arms, and a welt formed on her lower lip from the fighting. Tears slashed all along her shirt, blood staining it. Even with fast healing, it was a bad idea to leave wounds dirty. She stood, taking her leave of the group, but Dryston grabbed her wrist as she walked past.

“Be careful down there,” he said.

She grimaced. “I think I know how to be careful, Drys. And I’m only ten feet away.”

Dryston nodded, lips pursed in irritation, and she walked to the river. She took her bandolier of daggers and laid them on the rocks nearby, slipping her clothes off and running them through the water, cleaning them as much as possible, then laid them out. The water rushed and swirled around the boulders nearest the bank, the roar in the distance revealing a waterfall nearby. She wanted to run her body under it, but there was no telling exactly how far it was from her.

She dipped a toe in the water and let out a hiss, then a string of curses. It was cold as ice and the difference from her over-warm body sent a shivering shock through her. With a slow and careful movement, she set her foot in and sucked in a deep breath. She’d have to get over it sooner rather than later. The water pooled deep by the boulders. She scrambled to the top, tucking in her wings, then took a dive.

Cold scraped over her skin, but in moments, her body adjusted and the bliss of being in the cold water replaced any apprehension. She sank under, ruffling her hair, then coming back up and gasping for air. The moon was high overhead, the break in the trees letting the light shine down as she floated. Her wings fanned out beneath her, the feeling of the rushing water over aching muscles both painful and wonderful all at once.

The fight from earlier replayed in her mind, turning it over, trying to find where she’d gone wrong. Enid hated the feeling of being weak, of not being able to save the others.