Page 6

Poor Yrra’s eyes darted to the ground as his skin darkened to navy around his throat. Even Vee appeared unsettled.

Jük glanced up from his meal to lay down the law. “Shut up and eat,” he snarled. “We don’t have the money to waste on mending insignificant injuries, and you’re being obnoxious. You tweaked a muscle, but you act like you’ve lost a limb. Bavga .”

Vee laid a comforting hand on his forearm and squeezed.

“I can spend my money on whatever I want.” Daethie leapt to her feet and went to jump off Yrra’s shoulder.

She paused to consider the distance to the ground, her wings fluttering uncertainly.

Without a word, Yrra raised one hand. She hopped into his palm, and he set her on the trunk beside him.

Once settled, Daethie jabbed a finger in Jük’s direction.

“And I think I know how my injury impacts me. I’m not a kid; unlike some people in this group, I have the mental capacity to make my own decisions,” she growled. Vee’s gaze darted to Ked, who was luckily absorbed with his second bowl of food.

“Hey—” Hohem protested at the same time I started to say, “That’s not?—”

But Yrra surging to his feet had everyone falling silent.

He directed a slight frown and something akin to disappointment at Daethie before handing his bowl back to Vee with an abrupt nod of thanks and striding off toward the tents that made up our sleeping area.

Daethie watched him go with wide eyes, wings gone as still as the rest of her.

“Great job,” Jük started, tone dripping with sarcasm, but Vee’s arm flew up to push a mouthful of paya into his open mouth before he could piss someone off again.

Someone had to keep the peace.

“Well!” My hands came together with a loud crack, and all eyes turned to me.

“The good news is that it’s payday. We got eighty vodt , and there are eight of us, so it’s an even ten each.

That should tide us over for another week, two if we’re smart about it.

And it’s almost harvest season, so things should pick up soon. ”

“Think we should head south,” Hohem said through a mouthful of food.

Swallowing, he passed his empty bowl to Vee and continued.

“Into Wysalar, where Vyrain and I grew up. They’re a productive province with mild winters, and the Ishameti have always been accommodating of outsiders.

None of you would be given any trouble. Plus, they’ll need extra hands for harvest season. ”

My hands balled into fists in my lap at the idea of leaving the Kereti region. That would put us adjacent to the United States side of the continent, closer to D.C. Yes, that was behind me, and yes, it was foolish to let that get in the way of anything, but the feelings remained.

“We could, if need be.” I grasped for an adequate reason to shoot down the suggestion. “My gut is saying this will be a good week. I’ll spend some more time scoping out potential gigs in town tomorrow. I’ll take you, Daethie, if you want to stop by the mender.”

“No. It would be a waste,” Daethie mumbled, her attention focused on the toes of her slippers. Her wings opened and closed behind her, shedding bits of sparkly dust.

“Let’s get a drink,” Vyrain suggested, turning to me with a hopeful look. “Take a break. Celebrate a job well done. It’s been a while since we had the chance to relax.”

At that, Daethie perked up .

“As long as it’s not just you and me,” I replied with both eyebrows raised, not about to let him set me up for a date.

That he thought he could get away with it told me I’d been too soft on him.

I’d need to work on finding a balance. Smothering a rising yawn, I added, “Not tonight, though. Maybe tomorrow. See if Yrra wants to come, too. Hohem?”

“Yeah, I’m down.”

“Me too,” Daethie said quickly.

“Vee? Jük?” I extended the invitation to be polite, even though they rarely left camp unless they needed something. As expected, Vee shook her head.

“Thank you, but no.” She sighed. “You all have fun, though. We’ll find something to keep us busy here.” She turned to gather the dishes. Ked’s face was hidden from view as he licked the last remnants of a third serving from his dinnerware.

“Wasn’t it Yrra’s turn for the dishes?” Vyrain piped up. “Should I get him?”

“No, he was on avida care tonight. I’ll do them,” I volunteered, getting to my feet.

He could use some time to himself. One would think he’d be used to our dysfunctional group by now, but he was too gentle for the world.

He’d have to grow a thicker skin if he ever wanted to get his home and harem situated.

From what I’d heard, territorial skirmishes with other males of his kind weren’t uncommon.

I couldn’t imagine Yrra raising his voice, much less a fist or fang.

The short walk through the trees was pleasant.

Clumps of phosphorescent lichen cast areas of the forest in a pale glow, so different from on Earth.

As I approached the creek, a small, ferret-like form bounded away with a childlike giggle.

This place had so much in common with my world.

Even then, it was its own beast, largely untouched by human hands.

I crouched by the shore to run the first bowl under the water.

As food particles lifted away, my thoughts strayed back to when I crossed through The Rift.

It had been equal parts thrilling and nerve-racking to leave everything I knew behind, but I didn’t have many options.

I tried to fit in by turning myself into one of the first sentient beings I saw, which happened to be a faun.

That didn’t work out, because someone tried to talk to me, and neither English nor Portuguese was of any use here.

I’d managed for a little while pretending to be dumb and getting whatever I needed through begging and pilfering.

Those early nights, I risked foraged food and slept in doorways, bushes, and stables.

It was better than life on Earth in the sense that I was free.

Instead of honing my abilities, learning surveillance techniques, and studying foreign languages in a sterile classroom, I could focus on keeping warm and finding my next meal.

When I found Jük and Vee—or, more accurately, when they found me—things changed.

While I knew the basics of the common language by that point, they taught me most of what I know now.

Being able to communicate made a world of difference.

They were also the ones who started calling me Mar, as Epitgig traditionally had monosyllabic names.

Gratitude made my eyes prick whenever I thought of all they did for me.

They’d never met a human before, had no idea what I was or where I came from, and became the closest thing I had to a family since being torn from mine all those years ago.

I could never repay their kindness.

The stack of dirty dishes beside me shrank as I went. Deep in thought, I didn’t notice I wasn’t alone until I was packing up to return to camp and spotted a blue head bobbing atop the current a few feet from shore. I did a double-take.

There was a brief moment wherein I tried to keep the armful of tableware I was carrying from falling and cover my eyes with the same set of hands. Words tumbled out amidst the chaos. “Good Goddess, I’m sorry. Have you been here the whole time? Wait, are you naked?”

When no response came, I opened one eye, prepared to avert my gaze.

Yrra shook his head, and I relaxed. He brooded in the middle of the stream, sitting on the creek bed so that he was submerged to his shoulders.

A body of water like this wasn’t enough for one of his kind to call home, but it was still in his nature to seek out the comfort the water provided.

Encumbered by an armful of dishes, I approached the stream’s edge. “You doing okay?”

I got a nod.

“Want to talk about it?”

A shake.

Yrra ran a wet hand over his hair, slicking it flat against his scalp. Waterfolk had little hair, but what they did have was thin, nonporous, and dried quickly. It was convenient when you lived your life half in the water and half on land.

“Okay.” I paused, digging one toe absent-mindedly into the silt at my feet.

Silence wasn’t new or unusual for him, but it didn’t take a genius to tell that his mood had taken a downturn.

Should I push or let it be? I’d known Yrra for a while now, but with how little he talked, I found him tricky to pin down.

He didn’t have any trouble getting along with the rest of the crew; even Ked took to him right away.

But he still hesitated to open up to us after all this time.

“Well, I’m here if you need a listening ear,” I told him, electing to leave it at that. “Also, we were thinking we’d get a drink in town tomorrow if you’d like to join us. Call it a celebration for a job well done today. I have your share of today’s payout, too.”

Yrra’s face tilted toward me. “Is…” At the soft sound, he cleared his throat and tried again, putting a little more strength into the words. “Will Daethie be there?”

A knowing smile graced my lips. “Yes, she’s coming,” I confirmed.

Yrra stood abruptly. Water sluiced down the hard, flat planes of his chest and abdomen, dripping off the loincloth he wore.

My eyes followed before I caught myself.

While he wasn’t my type, it was fascinating how each part of him was a different hue of blue, from his palms and lips to his nails and lashes.

The wonders of the fae realm never ceased .

“Put those away. You’re going to poke someone’s eyes out,” I joked.

Yrra glanced around himself in confusion, overlooking what I was referring to: his nipples, denim blue and pointed like canudinhos from the transition from water to air.

“Never mind.” Shaking my head, I adjusted my grip on the stack of bowls and went to head back to camp. “Don’t stay out too late, yeah? You’ll catch a cold.”

I left the gentle fae to splash about and think in peace.

As I climbed the little hill leading to our clearing, my train of thought turned to Hohem’s earlier suggestion to move south.

It wasn’t a bad idea. If we kept having trouble finding work as the season changed, we might have to.

With a bit of luck, though, tomorrow would come with new opportunities.

Having a jingling purse for the first time in a while went a long way in improving my mood.

Hopefully, this optimism could last.