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D aisy’s scream rose in her throat, thick and close and sickening.

She’d trusted Filak for one damned morning, and he’d already done this again. Trapped her again. Dragged her off into terror and darkness, where she would never escape…

But then — a light. Blazing bright and dizzying before her blinking, prickling eyes. And when Daisy squinted to focus, she found… the lamp? Yes , it was the lamp they’d just purchased, and Filak was holding it aloft in his clawed hand, searching her face with wide, worried eyes.

“I am sorry, sólin mín ,” he said, with a regretful grimace, as he waved purposefully toward her eyes. “ ég gleymdi ae tú sére ekki .”

Most of that was unfamiliar, but his meaning was unmistakably clear — he’d forgotten Daisy couldn’t see in the dark. And while her heart was still wildly thudding, her shoulders were slowly sagging, her breath exhaling. He hadn’t meant to trap her, or frighten her. Right ?

Filak’s hand had found her back, rubbing up and down, smooth and steady and reassuring. Waiting for her, comforting her, proving himself to her — and Daisy took a deep breath, and relaxed a little heavier into his touch. Two weeks. She would see.

“What… what is this, then?” she asked, as she finally glanced around them. Thankfully , the new lamp they’d bought gave off an impressive amount of light, and she could already see that this wasn’t a hole, or another room, like she’d perhaps first thought. No , it was a broad, high, roughly carved tunnel, extending straight ahead into the earth. And there, standing in the tunnel just up ahead, was some kind of… large square metal thing, with wheels. A cart?

“Come,” Filak told her, with a hopeful little smile, as he nudged her toward the cart. “ We go noreur , ach? Til Skylis .”

Oh. He was taking her to — the Skyli ? To that first cave they’d met in? His people’s long-lost home?

Daisy blinked toward Filak , taking in that eager grin on his mouth, the excitement shining in his eyes. Because yes, he’d finally found the place he’d been searching for, all this time — and then… he’d left it again. After that first night, he’d been here at the mountain with Daisy ever since. And now, of course he wanted to go back to see the Skyli again, and share it with her. Show it to her. Just like a good mate would do.

Daisy was already nodding, a slow smile pulling across her mouth, because yes, she could admit, she wanted to see the Skyli again, too. She wanted to explore that beautiful ruined cave, and learn it for herself.

So she willingly accompanied Filak to the cart, and climbed up inside. It was large and open, surely meant for hauling goods to and from the shop, and there was a steering mechanism at the front of it. And once Filak handed her the lamp, Daisy could hear him doing something outside to the wheels, something sharp and scraping — and with a sudden jerk, the cart began to roll down the tunnel.

Daisy yelped, clutching to the cart’s solid edge for balance — but then Filak leapt up into it beside her, and flashed her another reassuring grin as he reached for the steering mechanism. Pulling it slightly to the side, and thereby keeping the rolling cart in the middle of the rocky tunnel all around them.

It was a fascinating system, and Daisy’s alarm faded as she watched Filak pull the mechanism the other way, steering them around another curve. While the cart kept moving faster and faster, bumping and reeling its way down the tunnel. And though the motion and the speed flipped oddly in Daisy’s stomach, it also felt… riveting. Maybe even exhilarating.

“You like?” Filak asked, angling a knowing grin toward her, and Daisy didn’t even try to resist her smile back. Not even when his clawed hand purposefully gripped at the side of the cart, his eyes gone briefly distant — and then the cart began rolling even faster, the wheels rattling beneath them, the air whipping through Daisy’s hair.

“Are… you doing that?” she demanded, high-pitched. “ With your… magic?!”

Filak likely hadn’t understood most of that, but he shot her another broad grin, and steered them around another corner. Meaning that yes, he was somehow doing this, controlling this. Stone -seeing , Julian had called it. His great gift.

Daisy’s smile felt almost shy this time, and when Filak’s arm reached for her, drawing her into his side, she relaxed against him, and just let herself… enjoy it. The swaying cart, the speed, the rocky tunnel flashing by, the rush of cool air on her face, the thrilling edge of danger in the jagged shadowy walls. And yes, the feel of Filak’s warm body against her, the deftness of his hand as he steered, the utter fearlessness in his eyes.

She couldn’t have said how long they travelled like that, but she was almost sorry when the cart finally slowed, and then trundled to a stop. But Filak’s grin was even brighter than before, and once he’d lifted Daisy out of the cart, he again took the lamp in hand, and guided her toward a new, smaller opening, barely visible in the stone wall.

It was another tunnel, but this one was far rougher and rockier, with occasional piles of rubble scattered about, and various forks branching away into darkness. And the further they walked, the more Daisy began to notice all the natural beauty embedded in the tunnel around them. Craggy rock formations, stunning colourful layers in the walls, frilly white stalactites growing from the ceiling.

She kept slowing down to stare, delaying their progress considerably, but Filak didn’t at all seem to mind. If anything, he almost seemed to approve of Daisy’s distraction, first watching her with warm, indulgent eyes, and then even pointing out notable features in the stone, moving the lamp close so she could see all the details. Patterns in the rock faces, traces of glittering colour in various jutting stones, a hidden cluster of sparkling stalagmites behind a large boulder.

“Those are fallegt , Filak ,” Daisy told him, breathless — fallegt meant beautiful , another one of the words they’d studied that morning. “ Gods , I wish I could draw them, but…”

She trailed off, grimacing, because she’d foolishly left her sketchbook back in her room, with her pencils, too — and she hadn’t brought her new satchel, either. But beside her, Filak firmly nodded, and set down the lamp so he could rummage for something in his own satchel — and with a flourish, he thrust out Daisy’s sketchbook toward her.

Daisy almost crowed with delight as she clasped it to her chest, beaming brightly toward Filak’s face. And in return, he grinned back toward her, and then fished in his satchel again, and plucked out one of the new pencils he’d just bought at the shop, too. “ Daisy draw,” he told her, with satisfaction, as he swiftly sharpened the pencil to a perfect point with his claw. “ Artistinn mín .”

It shivered through Daisy’s chest, and she felt her face heating as she fumbled to flip the sketchbook open, finding a new page. This was still only supposed to be for two weeks, she was still only seeing, he was still dangerous, she needed to remember that…

But the thought seemed to fade away beneath the drawing, the lovely feeling of scraping her sharp new pencil over the page. Capturing the stalagmites’ feathery shapes, the glittering edges, the bizarre shadows they cast on the wall in the lamplight…

And to his credit, Filak didn’t interrupt, or hover over Daisy’s shoulder, or betray any sign of impatience whatsoever. Instead , he only wandered around nearby, trailing his claws against the jagged walls, picking up rocks, stroking them, sniffing them. And sometimes even licking them, his nose wrinkling, his head thoughtfully cocked sideways.

“What are you doing?” Daisy finally asked him, as she closed her sketchbook again. “ Is that… your magic? Your … stone-seeing?”

Filak shot her a bemused smile — surely not understanding her — and Daisy went to clasp his hand, turning it over so she could see his palm. “ Seeing ?” she asked him, tapping her finger against the inked eye in his skin. “ Magic ?”

The comprehension flared in Filak’s eyes, and he nodded. “ Steinsjáandi ,” he said. “ ég sé stein .”

He patted the tunnel’s stone wall as he said stein — meaning stone , surely. And when Daisy nodded and repeated it, he gave her another smile, and bent to swipe up a large rock from beneath their feet. “ í tessum steini ,” he said slowly, “ sé ég ekkert. Nei .”

He let her see his hand running over the rock, his palm stroking as his claws searched and scraped — and then, with a twist of his fingers, he somehow snapped the rock into two perfect halves. Showing her how it was all rock inside, too.

“ Ekkert ,” he said again, as he tossed the rock away over his shoulder, and picked up a much larger one. Running his hand over it, too, but far more carefully this time. “ En tessi steinn, ” he said, “ viltu sjá? ”

It was a question, maybe asking if Daisy wanted to see — and she again nodded, intrigued, as she watched him caress the rock. Stroking it with deliberate movements of his hands, rolling it forward and back, sweeping and scraping with his fingers. Slow enough that it took Daisy a moment to realize that he was shaving off layers of the stone, piece by careful piece. Cutting away the top, until she saw… something bright. Colourful . Shimmering .

And the more Filak’s hands caressed it, the brighter it grew. It was a mass of gleaming crystals, reds and browns and yellows, all growing out of the stone in riotous clusters of colour. And for a halting, dizzying instant, it almost looked as though Filak was creating them, coaxing them to life from within the stone. Making … art. Beauty . Magic .

Daisy’s breath was frozen in her throat, and when she caught Filak’s eyes, they were warm and rueful on hers. “ You like?” he murmured. “ You … draw?”

Daisy fervently nodded, and again fumbled for her sketchbook, flipping it open to a new page. And then she drew the stone as carefully as she could, capturing all those facets, the shadows and the light. Making its beauty hers, to keep.

“Thank you, Filak ,” Daisy told him once she’d finished. “ It’s beautiful. Fallegt .”

Filak waved it away, and said something in Aelakesh that sounded dismissive, perhaps that it wasn’t a good stone, or wasn’t worth very much — and he didn’t seem inclined to keep any of it, either. But as they began walking again, there was a distinct flush spreading across his cheeks, and a small smile pulling at his lips. Suggesting that he’d appreciated the praise, all the same.

Daisy could readily relate to that — she so often felt the same way about her own art — and it made it even easier to keep walking with him, talking with him, exploring with him. Frequently pausing to admire or draw whatever captured her interest, much of it pointed out by Filak , while he seemed to focus more and more of his attention on touching the walls. Spreading his fingers wide, digging his claws into the stone again and again, almost as if he was searching for something.

“What are you doing now, then?” Daisy asked, with genuine curiosity, once she’d finished drawing a little bubbling stream of water he’d pointed out. “ Are you looking for the Skyli ? I thought you knew where it was now?”

The comprehension flickered across Filak’s eyes, and he half-smiled, half-grimaced. “ Kannski ,” he replied, making that familiar wishy-washy gesture, before launching into another stream of Aelakesh , still motioning with his hands as he spoke. And while his meaning wasn’t fully clear, it was enough to suggest that yes, he was looking for the Skyli , and yes, he now knew where it was, too. But it wasn’t yet connected to any of his current tunnels, and he was now searching for signs of it, a way to reach it from underground.

That made sense, especially given his difficulties with sunlight, so Daisy happily kept wandering and exploring with him, sketching as she went. Until finally Filak stopped by a particularly large craggy section, frowning toward it, while she took the opportunity to draw the layers in the wall beside it, curving up toward…

“Filak,” she said, her voice sounding odd, as she plucked up the lamp, lurched closer to the wall, and studied the… the mark. The mark that at first just looked like another variation in the stone, but the longer she looked at it, the more it reminded her of…

She groped beside her for Filak’s hand, and brought it up next to the mark. Turning it so his palm faced toward them, its black eye gazing out with eerie intensity — and there, beside it, in the wall, was its match. A set.

“ Daisy ,” Filak breathed, hushed, his body rigid all over — and then he thrust both hands to the wall beneath the eye, his fingers splaying wide, his claws digging deep. And as Daisy watched, the stone beneath his fingers began to… crack. Breaking first into fine jagged lines, and then crumbling away into rock and sand, pooling down toward the ground below.

Daisy’s breath choked, and she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook, capturing this as quickly as she could. The exquisite deepening cracks in the rock, the certainty of Filak’s long strong fingers, his sharp black talons pushing and seeking, the stone melting away beneath the dizzying power of his touch.

Because this was art too, perhaps more than anything Daisy had seen in these tunnels yet. The care with which Filak broke the stone, sliding it away from the wall in slow, steady sheaves. The way it was surprisingly subtle and quiet, like a light gentle scraping, drawing up memories of the sounds she’d heard the other night in the sickroom. The way he used his booted feet, too, shoving the rubble back and to the sides, opening up the beginnings of a brand-new tunnel before them.

Daisy had already filled one page, and flipped to the next, and the next. Her hand flashing across the paper, furiously capturing images, impressions, the power of it, the progression, the stone, his hands commanding the very earth…

“ Fallegt , Filak ,” Daisy breathed, before she could stop it — and when he glanced toward her, his face was covered with a sheen of sweat, his eyes warm and bright and maybe even incredulous. Again , as if he wasn’t used to hearing such compliments, to having his work called beautiful — but it was, of course it was, it was one of the most stunning marvels Daisy had ever seen in her life.

And when she impulsively showed Filak her sketchbook, and the multiple rough drawings she’d already made of this — the neat sheaves of stone, the piles of rubble behind his feet, the wall cracking beneath his hands — he rapidly blinked as he stared, as he raised his dirt-streaked hand to the page. Spreading his fingers out alongside the version of his hand Daisy had drawn, and yes, she’d managed a good likeness, surely aided by how damned often she’d looked at his hands, these past days.

But Filak just kept staring, and blinking, his swallow bobbing in his throat. And when he finally glanced at Daisy , he looked touched, almost shy, his smile slow and uncertain, his cheeks flushing with pink. “ You like?” he asked her, husky. “ Daisy like draw Filak ?”

It was perhaps the most complete common-tongue sentence he’d said yet, and Daisy’s grin felt too swift and affectionate, and gods curse her, she impulsively leaned over, and pressed a quick kiss to his hard cheek. “ Ach , Filak ,” she murmured. “ I like.”

There was another instant’s stillness, hovering between them — and then, beneath Filak’s other hand, the wall splintered and crunched and rumbled. Breaking apart into huge, jagged boulders, and Filak hissed as he clutched for Daisy , and dragged her backwards. Holding her close and safe as the boulders thudded and fell and slightly rolled away, revealing… something dark. Something … open.

Another… tunnel?

Filak and Daisy both stilled, not moving, not breathing — and then Filak muttered under his breath as he swiped up the lamp, and waved Daisy forward. Through that new hole in the wall, and into the new tunnel, hidden here deep beneath the earth.

It was surely too straight to have occurred naturally, though the walls were rough and crumbling, with visible signs of age and water damage. And the tunnel only extended for a short distance before ending again, blocked off by another solid, rocky wall.

But Daisy had already noticed another black eye, tucked up into a nearby corner — and Filak shot her a grateful grin as he strode over, and spread his hands wide against the wall. And Daisy gasped as the wall again cracked and broke apart, this time crumbling into smaller stones and gravel, which Filak pooled away into a growing pile behind them.

“Is this it?” Daisy asked him, the excitement rising in her voice. “ The way to the Skyli ?”

The comprehension flicked across Filak’s eyes, and he clasped her hand, and drew her through the broken wall into yet another tunnel. “ Kannski , sólin mín ,” he replied. “ Komdu og sjáeu. ”

Come and see , it might have meant, and Daisy’s heartbeat quickened as she accompanied him through the tunnels with the lamp, watching him break down one wall after another. And the further they went, the more the tunnels seemed like a maze, a twisty confusing mess of corners and dead ends, meant to conceal something important behind them.

But they hadn’t counted on Filak , on an orc who could command the very earth to obey him. And perhaps they hadn’t counted on Daisy , either, because she kept looking for those eyes, finding them tucked behind stones, into corners, even in the floor. Until finally she found one that looked different, placed on its own stone, jutting slightly out from the wall.

“Ach,” Filak breathed, as he swept over beside her, his body taut, his hand spreading slow and careful against the stone. And this time, after a long moment, he pressed it. Pressed the eye in his hand into the eye in the stone, his muscles straining with the effort, until the wall… opened. Heaving itself inward just like a door, with a sharp, deafening scrape.

And behind the door, there was a staircase. Leading downwards, into inky, empty blackness.

Filak’s breath hitched, and he gripped Daisy’s hand, and drew her after him down into the staircase. Jogging down further, and further, until they reached another dead end, with another jutting eye in the stone wall.

But Filak pressed it with obvious impatience this time, as if he fully expected the wall to open. And it did, obeying him with another harsh, grating sound, revealing yet another long tunnel. But this one was wider, with a flat floor and polished stone walls, and Daisy sprinted together with Filak down the length of it, their hands tightly clasped, their feet pounding in unison on the stone floor.

Until Filak pressed one last eye, and the corridor… opened. Vanished . And before them was…

A room. A huge, empty, echoing room. It was shaped in a massive domed circle, and the walls were carved from pure white stone, gleaming in the light of Daisy’s lamp. And the smooth floor was tiled with black and white, following the circle, radiating out from the…

The eye . The eye in the floor. The same eye that was on the walls, and on Filak’s hands. And when Filak stared at it, and then at Daisy , his expression was pure shocked, sweeping disbelief.

“ Fokk, sólin mín ,” he breathed, and his voice shook, trembled just like his fingers on hers. “ Tae er … Skyli ?”

They’d found the Skyli .