Vyr’s room was not unlike the chamber in which we’d first met. Pancake snoozed on a pouf in the bed-scoop near a pile of stuffed animals. The shelves were cluttered and the ceiling-sigils were out. What meager light there was issued only from the pots of foxfire mushrooms scattered about. The place itself had an odd smell to it, but not at all an unpleasant one. It was herbal, earthy and ripe…and intermingled, of course, with her scent. Caramels and strawberries. Decadent and mouthwatering. I reeled.

Shit. I did not think this through.

“Have you made your decision, then?” pressed Vyr as she shut the door behind her, wasting no time whatsoever. I forced my gaze away from the plushies to meet her eyes, trying not to let my lip curl upward. It twitched.

“Not yet,” I said quietly, keeping my breaths shallow. “I have some questions.”

The skyborn simply nodded, taking me by surprise.

Shouldn’t you be annoyed? Impatient? Sarcastic?

“Ask.”

“How…how exactly do you plan on going about it? In what way will it work, if it works? What are the risks and possible side effects? What will you want in return? Oh, and um…will I need to do anything, or will it all be on you?”

The skyborn was silent for a moment, studying me with something other than disdain in her eyes, for once. Surprise? Interest?

“I plan on using targeted time magic, much the same as I do in physical healing,” she explained. “It will work by returning your mind and memories to the state they were in before that sigil of yours took effect. The risk is that it won’t work. The side-effects are that you’ll lose all the memories you’ve gained since that time, and that a great deal of them will bleed through—become visible to me, that is—in the process. What was the next thing? Ah, right. No, I do not want anything in return. We are kin. As for—”

“Wait a moment,” I cut in, wincing as she scowled. “If we do this, I’ll lose all of the memories I’ve accumulated since…since I first got here?”

“Yes. I could attempt to devise a method which preserves them, but it would take a long time, and there’ll be an even lower chance of success. More risk of muddling things. But this way is cleaner. Easier. You could write down everything you need to know from the period of time lost. It’s only been a few days, yes?”

“Y-yes,” I hedged, my mind racing.

Would her procedure set this body’s brain completely back to before the sigil’s activation…and wipe my consciousness out of existence? Or would I still be there, but bewildered, sharing space with the original Zia? And would this procedure perhaps bring me into close physical proximity with Vyr for an extended amount of—

No. Stop that.

I couldn’t ask Vyr any of my questions without first explaining the full truth. And I wasn’t ready to do that, wasn’t even sure if I ever would be.

But if I do go through with this…she’ll probably learn the truth regardless.

“In either case, all that I would require of you, aside from submitting yourself to the procedure, would be the destruction of the original sigil.”

“I…” I chewed my lip. “I think I need more time to decide. But thank you for answering my questions. And for offering at all.”

The skyborn shrugged dismissively.

“If something is within my power to do, and it would be beneficial to a coven-mate, it is beneficial to me to do it.”

My chest clenched up, and my eyes threatened to water.

Wish my human family could have seen things that way.

“Well, I still appreciate it,” I said. “Goodnight, then.”

Fighting to control my expression, I slipped past her before she could look too closely at my face.

Back in my own room, I shut the door and went straight over to the window, shoving it open and leaning in close to gulp in the fresh, cold night air.

I can’t do it. There’s no way I can take the risk.

But the idea wouldn’t leave me. The temptation of all that knowledge, that expertise, and the memories themselves—the moments of Zia’s life she’d shared in her journals and those she had not, all in fully-realized detail—it called to me. Of course, it didn’t help that I’d been given the most daunting of all possible student service duties…and I was almost positive that without those memories, I would fail spectacularly.

But at least this way, I can be sure I’ll still be me when I do.

Regardless, Vyr’s offer followed me into my dreams…and my nightmares. The possibilities of it, both good and bad, playing themselves out in vivid detail. And my mother—this body’s mother—she’d been there too. Beautiful but silent, though her lips moved as she tried in vain to speak to me. Petal-pink wings glowed behind her back, until they began to melt. And, like acid, they melted her in turn.

I woke up earlier than everyone else. After using the greenroom and cleaning up in the bathing pool, I got dressed. Put the fur Vyr had given me about my shoulders and fixed it in place with a set of ornate silver clasps that I’d found amongst my things.

Then I left.

It was, again, too early for breakfast. But I didn’t care. I wanted to wander. I wanted to walk and think and be alone and—most of all— to prove to myself that I still could do those things. But I’d barely made it halfway to the common hall when I scented it.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The telltale aroma of chestnuts and bastard.

I rounded a corner, stopped, and waited. Within moments, I heard footsteps.

They slowed, realizing I was waiting for them. But I stayed where I was. And sure enough, almost sheepish and already scowling, they stepped into view.

“No,” I said, cutting them off just as they opened their stupid mouth to speak. “No, I’ve had enough. We’re not doing this every day. I need to be able to go places and do things by myself…other than classes and service. I need alone time. Fucking freedom.”

Reve blinked, lips pulling back to bare their teeth still further.

“What makes you think you deserve any of that? That you can even be trusted with it?”

“I don’t think, I know. I’m not up to anything nefarious, I just want time to myself outside of my damned room. You’re going to cut this whole stalker bit out, right here. Right now.”

Reve laughed.

“Oh? And what of my freedoms? Am I not free to go where I will, too?”

I snorted.

“No. Your right to swing your fist doesn’t extend to my face.”

Reve blinked.

“What?”

“Just because we’re free, doesn’t mean we’re free to fuck with each other without consequence. I wasn’t bothering you, but you’re definitely bothering me. Now fuck off. Or are you aiming for another private lecture with Jenner?”

“You know nothing of what he and I spoke of.”

“Oh? Then why did you flinch just now?” I sniffed at the air. “Scent’s gone sour, too.”

The skyborn’s fur prickled. Their tail lashed and their wings flexed. But they drew a long breath through gritted teeth, nostrils flaring, and gradually their wings settled back.

“Very well, then. The sooner you ruin yourself, the sooner we’ll all be rid of you,” they said, their tone sharp-edged, but even. A blade held steady. But we weren’t close enough for their words to cut me, and I was beyond positive we never would be.

Their eyes scanned mine as they composed their face into a dismissive smirk, preparing to turn from me—but then, as one, we scented him. We both froze.

Jenner appeared around the corner, his expression rigid.

“You want freedom, Zia? It’s yours,” he said, closing in quickly with his usual purposeful stride. “A coven isn’t a prison. I have asked compromises of you for the best of all of us, I have not forced them on you. Have your early-morning excursions. Have your alone time.” He spoke the words as though they were foreign to him. “Do you know why we chased you down before?”

I held my tongue.

“Because we haven’t exchanged marks, and I have yet to see you carry a call-stone. The world and even this school can be a dangerous place for someone with enemies everywhere. It is our responsibility to care for your well-being. And if you don’t have memories enough to at least know to have your stone with you at all times, then you’re certainly not ready to be out there alone without it.”

Oh.

Heat rushed my cheeks.

“We’ll exchange marks. I’ll have it on me next time.”

“As for you,” said Jenner, turning to the Topaz. “I will say this again. You are kohai. Behave so. It is not your duty to police your coven-mates. Do you understand?”

Reve’s lips pulled back, but only for an instant.

“Yes, Ashai,” they said, composing their expression as best they could.

“Go where you will, Reve. But stop deliberately following and monitoring her. And Zia—“

“I’ll come back to the suite with you to get the stone and marks,” I said, throwing a smug sideways glance at Reve. “But then I am going to take a walk by myself before classes get started and everything gets really, really overwhelming.”

I had to insist, though all of my kobold instincts screamed out against my defiance. Aside from Reve and Erek, there were things about coven life I could get used to. Even love.

But it was starting to feel claustrophobic.

Jenner gave a curt nod, and we turned together to head back, leaving the Topaz to simmer where they stood.

Back in the early morning silence of the suite, Jenner waited as I retrieved my call-stone. But my stomach twisted at the thought of keeping it on me.

What if Seri calls again?

I still hadn’t told anyone but Keshry about the call from beyond the grave, and for whatever reason, I still didn’t feel ready to.

“Is there, um…a way to like…silence this thing? For class?”

“Of course,” said the Jasper, reaching out to pluck up the stone from where it hung about my neck, his fingers brushing against the exposed expanse between my shoulder-wrap and the neckline of my tunic. The fur of my chest was silky-fine and short, hardly any barrier at all to the warmth of his fingers against my skin.

I gave a sharp, involuntary gasp as my body responded. A thrill ran down my spine, and I found myself breathing deep of his earthy aroma. It was just the two of us, standing right outside of my room. Everyone else was still sleeping—save Reve, who hadn’t returned.

Jenner dropped the stone at once, taking a long step back.

“Forgive me,” he said. “I had almost forgotten your Moon, the scent had been light until…well, in any case,” he gave a swift shake of his head, as if to clear it. “You brush your fingertip over the stone’s surface, once vertically, and then a second time horizontally. Then it will only thrum silently when someone calls on you. Do it again, and it will sleep. One horizontal and one vertical swipe reawakens it.”

“Th-thanks,” I said. “I’m um…I’m gonna go now.”

And I did. Quickly. As if I could escape the cavalcade of thoughts which that one, feather-light touch had incited. I hadn’t thought Jenner would be able to affect me to quite that extent, and yet…

I’m pathetic.

Reaching down to my belt-pouch—pretty standard-issue, in this world—I pulled out the folded bit of paper I’d stuck in there alongside my little book of contacts. I’d found the schedule when going through my things a second time, tucked seemingly at random into a tome entitled Clan Culture and Etiquette of Avaroth: A Guide for Outsiders.

Unfolding it, I slowed. If Jhirasday is a week from the day I got here, then today is Oshosday, I reasoned, running my finger down the list of weekdays. I had something called a “Mentorship Period” beginning in the ninth hour and ending at the thirteenth. And as I’d seen no clocks since my arrival in this world, I could only assume that the ninth was sometime shortly after breakfast. After mentorship I had an hour off, followed by three hours of something called a “Practical Application Period,” and then my three hours of service. A note beside this informed me I would find a chart detailing the exact location of my mentorship meeting-place in the main hall of the wing belonging to my gem type.

A full day. A full day of having absolutely no idea what the fuck I’m doing.

Again Vyr’s offer taunted me, tempted me. I ignored it. Or at least, I pretended to. In truth, the possibilities danced across the backdrop of my mind like a parade of shadow-puppets, casting their outlines over every thought. I made my way for the Opal Wing…or the Shaft, as I’d already heard a few others call it. According to the chart, I was to meet for my mentorship with a Professor Lektre on the very bottom floor of Opal Wing.

With a clear idea of where I’d be headed whenever the ninth hour hit, I stuffed the schedule into the pouch again and scampered back to the common hall. And there I sat on the floor in front of Other Zia’s mother’s mural, just staring at it. Wondering what she’d been like, and fantasized about how it might have felt, to have a mother like the one I imagined her to be. And I wondered about her wings, and how she made them. And, perhaps more than anything else, I wondered what exactly had triggered this feeling I knew so well. The budding of a new obsession.

Flight. Wings. The ultimate freedom.

This was unlike any fixation I’d ever had before…mostly because it scared the absolute living shit out of me.