On the rooftop of the Twinklings hotel, Jonah wandered around the garden, looking over the success of Diana's plants. It was only a little over a day since they'd all been planted, but already they were growing nicely. Her magic boosted them greatly, bringing them along from sprout, seedling, to the budding stage. Now the buds were open, drawing in the colorful elven insects. The prismatic and metallic bees and flies were now joined by the fluttering wings of butterflies. The butterfly's wings were white, adorned with black eyes and inky noses that blinked and flared as the creatures feasted on nectar. There were so many that they landed on Jonah's hands. The tiny insect legs were a dull sensation across his metal skin. He had always had a fear of being stung by bees, and a hatred for the buzzing of flies. Many of the former had sent waves of panic through picnics. The latter always made their way onto his food. These insects didn't appear dangerous and were only making a stop on his limbs. They were far too pretty and strange to be the same as the bugs he feared or loathed.

He had excused himself from Kalyah and the sleeping Chiru, unable to distract himself anymore with the Pixie elf. The nurse had brought out cards in an attempt to keep him there. After the third hand of the bizarre poker-like game, he had to get up and stretch his legs. He left Warren by the doorway to stand watch over the Ash Makers. Jonah wasn’t sure if he wanted to be alone or not. He had come to depend on Diana’s presence, especially after his second coma since coming to this world. The Witch had meant to kill him, or at least scramble his brain, but the Clawing death had only strengthened his relationship with Diana. He could live without her for a few hours. Couples did it all the time. But it still pained him now to not have her around.

Well, it wasn’t just that, he thought. If she had been working or out with friends, then he would miss her and it wouldn’t hurt this much. Now there was danger. Her powers were on the line and the cruel nature of this world was punishing her. That look in her eyes when she left, the quiet dreading of things to come. Even though she disagreed with the sources’ hatred of the children, he knew she loved her powers. They were as much a part of her as his abilities were to him.

Diana used her magic all the time. He often smiled at her, stirring her tea with a gesture of her finger. To be without them was to cut a part off her being. What would happen to Aiko if her magic was taken from her? No, he couldn’t think like that. He had to trust that Diana would be fine.

Jonah needed a distraction.

Going down into the penthouse he brought out the bot the Machinist had given him. It was only a day ago, but the thing had dust on it from cleaning out the apartment. He wiped off the cantaloupe sized machine and set it on the patio table of the roof. Setting his hands on it, he looked it over, cataloging all its features.

It was made of flush sheets of metal like his limbs. He wondered if that meant his arms and legs were assembled from smaller bits of metal welded through magic. He hadn't talked to the man that made them much. Angelina was working him like a dog. He should’ve, thinking back. No one could know how bad it was going to get though. Stephan would know everything about this little bot, he thought.

Closing his eyes, Jonah pushed his mind into the machine. He couldn’t absorb it, or he didn’t want to, he only wanted to understand it. Mentally there came a list of commands, blueprints, and programming. The machine had no AI of its own, and it was ready for him, all it needed was some kind of link. The Machinist had made it easy, making up a diagram for a radio transmitter. It wasn’t perfect for him though, not yet. It was far too bulky to fit anywhere. He needed to make it smaller. There was all this empty space where it carried its cargo, which he didn’t plan on using.

Pressing his hands together, he felt the sturdy resistance of the metal. The orb didn’t budge, pushing back with its strong steel. Under the dark of his closed eyes he received the blue prints again, pointing out that it was structurally fine as it was. Was that him, or had he given it some kind of personality?

“Just a little smaller, you’re too big…” he remarked.

The blueprints, once bright white were now shaded an angry red. They flashed in his head like a warning

“You’re my familiar, listen to me,” he said, pushing with all his might. “You don’t need a bunch of empty space inside of you. If I can eat a bunch of plastic tubes and a whole gun, then you can shrink a little bit…”

There was a sound of crunching steel and his heart started to race at the effort. He opened his eyes and saw that his right hand had made an impression at the heel of it. He was doing something, finally. If there was will, there was a way.

“You’re gonna be a baseball, yep, all that empty space will be gone,” he said with a deep breath. He adjusted his hands and pushed with all his might. The picture of it was clear in his head. This thing was his now and that cargo space was being wasted. His heart galloped along as sweat streaked down his head. All the sudden there was a loud crumple of metal, like a crushed can, as his hands touched each other. It wasn’t going to be destroyed, it was going to be a perfect little machine, he thought, his hands still covering the device.

Oh God, he forgot all about the big glass lens on the front of it. No, no, that didn’t matter, his magic would fill in the gaps. Like Diana crushing a stone to reshape it, he could do the same with technology. Slowly he set his hands on the table, releasing the object onto it. He held his hands up, squinting as he slowly revealed it to himself.

“Fuck yes!” he cried, the sound echoing throughout the city.

He breathed a sigh of relief, staring at the smaller version of the round bot on the table. The lens had shrunk along with the rest of it, shining in the dying sunlight. Relaxing against the back of the chair, he wondered if maybe the Machinist had given him the big bot as a test. He had certainly passed his own test. What would have happened if he just succeeded in breaking it? Would it have just gone into his limbs? There was no need to worry about that now.

He tapped the machine, dropping his transmitter into it, not daring to fiddle with those designs. The machine turned itself right ways up. From the bottom of it came four double jointed legs, thinner than his fingers and about twice as long. The very ends of them were rather sharp and they moved with a clear tinkling sound across the wrought iron table top. With his thoughts alone he made it rise and sink. He laughed as the bot lifted up into the air, the legs shooting back into its now limited space. It flew with a small field of antigravity, something he could never hope to understand.

“You aren’t as strong as a tiger, but I like you,” Jonah said, standing up as the machine floated around his head. He could tell that it was taking energy from him and the air. There was a small battery in it, vents sucking in the magic and exhausting used air out. He turned on the camera and watched himself from this new angle. It was so surreal and he knew that Diana had this all time with Aiko. The camera was in high definition, much crisper than the analog cameras of the elves and the Magi kingdoms. He didn't have much experience with them, but they were far off from the digital ones of Earth.

When the bot left some hundred feet, it started to sink in the air. There was a greater stress on his system, the power being drawn from him. He drew the bot back, straight into his hand. “Okay, I need to practice with you more,” he said, finding himself breathless. The bot didn't reply to his statement.

Taking a seat on the lawn chair it took a moment for him to relax once again. He kept testing the bot further. It whizzed around him in circles, taking pictures, playing audio from its sizable speaker, and recording as well. He kept playing around with it, tweaking the settings and the available hardware. It could even project like his limbs could. The day stretched on, the shadows growing longer across the rooftop garden.

Jonah yawned heavily, his stomach grumbling. He recalled his bot, having the legs hold onto his leather padded shoulder. Without realizing, he had spent an hour and a half toying with it. The range was still a problem, but he had a much better understanding of its functions now.

When he entered the penthouse, he sighed at its emptiness. Diana had been gone for several hours now. From the fridge he brought out some meat, cheese, and bread, making a fried ham sandwich. It had been a long time since he had made such a meal, but he was starving. He used the bot to play music as he cooked, mentally tweaking the settings of the speaker still. It shook his arm when he had the bass thumping deeply.

Eating the meal, he was reminded of his grandmother. Another world, another lifetime ago. If she hadn't died when he was a teen, he would have been a lot heavier through his teenage and adult life. Without the music, a calming shoegaze band, then he might have started crying. The odd architectured penthouse felt so empty without the others. When the album ended and his meal was nothing but crumbs on a plate, his eyes started to water. It was nearly four hours since Diana left. God, he hoped she was okay. It hurt his heart to know she was suffering and he could do nothing about it.

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Night was upon him and Jonah was miserable. Removing his jacket, he laid down on the chair in the parlor. He didn’t have the spirit to stay awake, the bot practice and the heavy food made him so tired. The bed was out, as Diana might leave him be in it.

A half an hour later, Jonah was awoken. The stark white pupils of Rosetta scared him out of a dream. Her hand was on his shoulder and a careful smile was on his pink lips. “The princess needs yah, mate,” she said quietly. “Won’t let anyone else take care of her, like.”

Taking a deep breath, Jonah stood up from the chair. The curtains were drawn and the lights overhead were on. The air was filled with the smell of starch and the sound of boiling water. In the kitchen was Diana, standing before the stove with a distant expression in her brown eyes. Around her jawline and ears was caked on mud and her hair was slicked back, greasy and muddy as well. The plush white robe was tied at her waist.

The Druid sighed. “Rose, if he was tired, you should’ve let him sleep,” she said tiredly. She stuck her face over the boiling pot, closing her eyes in the steam.

Jonah made his way to her quickly. The bags under her eyes was the start of a nasty bruise. He took her face in his metal hand, barely feeling the steam. His thumb went gently across her cheek. There were red veins in her eyes and she frowned back at him with cracked lips.

“Don’t cry for me, pet, the worst is over,” Diana said. “No, don’t I’m filthy,” she said, pushing away his kissing lips from her forehead.

“What happened?” he asked loudly, looking at Rosetta for answers.

“Nothing that she could have prevented,” Diana replied. “I’m fine, it was a successful ritual, my powers are intact. I’m just a bit battered from the experience.” She switched off the burner and moved the pot from it. As the water stopped rolling, he saw it contained round little orbs of white potatoes. “I must eat food from the place I offended for two sunsets.” She pointed to some sheets of waxen paper on the counter. Out of it came a couple fishtails. “At least I have a familiar that isn’t afraid of water. She gathered the food for me…” Aiko sat on the kitchen floor, traces of algae littering its white fur.

“Sorry,” Jonah mumbled to Rosetta.

“Yah haven't even seen what's under the bloody robe, mate. If I could’ve helped her, then I would’ve,” the Sorceress replied.

“Nobody could, it was a Druid ritual, now it’s nearly done,” Diana said, scooping the tubers from the pot. She looked over the tiny potatoes with a frown, dusting them with salt. Crushing them with a fork, they erupted with steam. Bringing a bite to her mouth, she breathed frost over them, chewing with a bored expression that told Jonah they weren’t particularly exciting to eat.

From down the hall came the rattling metal and flapping fabric of Warren. The Paladin inclined his head to Jonah. “The tub and the shower are all cleaned out. I enchanted them like ya asked me to,” he said, walking around the kitchen counter. He lifted the paper from the fish, grimacing at the white scaled and cloudy eyed things. The scent was none too pleasant either, a sharp fishy stench mixed with that of a mire.

“How was your afternoon, partner?” Warren asked him.

“Fine, I was only worried about Diana the whole time,” he said plainly.

She swallowed another bite of tuber. “I got off easy, the marking doesn’t even hurt, not with the balm on it. The toad’s tongue hurt the most. I only got struck because I wouldn’t stop talking…” she said with a shake of her head. “I suppose I’ll never learn. My mouth always gets me and others in trouble.” She looked at him with a frown.

Jonah took her hand. “I got in trouble because I ran my mouth. Well, that and the proof I can’t find,” he said with a chuckle. The pain of the Clawing death hadn't exactly left his mind yet.

“It’s the red hair and the royalty,” Warren said with a smirk. “Redheads are always stormy, never met a one that wasn’t.”

Rosetta clicked her tongue at the Paladin. “Don’t say things like that to the princess,” she said with a glare.

“I don’t mind, Rose, perhaps he’s right,” she said with a sigh.

“Where’s the marking?” Jonah wondered, looking over her. All her exposed skin was so caked in mud, save her hands and face. Her poor bare feet were so dirty, the nails had caught so much grime.

Diana frowned, turning her left shoulder to him. Carefully she lowered the robe, a hand across her breasts to keep them concealed. The teal ink was so bright across her pale arm. It was so ugly to him, only because she didn’t deserve it. He told her so, again.

“I know what you think, my dear boy, but I’ve told you nature is cruel,” she stated with a yawn, pushing the sleeve back up.

He swallowed his anger. It wasn’t going to benefit her or him to drag this out any longer. He wanted to hit that stupid fucking toad with a plasma round. She didn’t do a damn thing wrong saving people like she did. His fist was clenched and that lump was swallowed, but he was struggling to speak. Diana took his straining fist in both her hands, kissing it.

“Let me finish my food and you can help bathe, there’s nothing against that in the texts,” she said with a strained smile.

The penthouse master bathroom hadn't been used yet. Before it had been clogged with dirt and grime, from the walls to the drains. Now the white marble walls were spotless, shining dully in the city lighting from the tall windows along one wall. The shower on the outer wall could fit a full five people, a bench of waxen wood curving around it. The white ceramic tub beside it was basically a hot tub with silver fixtures.

Diana removed her robe as soon as the door was shut. Her pale pear shaped body was ghostly in the city light, all the streaks of dirt having found their way into every crevice and curve. She told Jonah to leave the lights off and lock the door, her eyes hurt. Opening the glass door of the shower, she switched on the ceiling bound head. She didn’t step in until it was steaming. Sighing in relief, she turned about to face him, watery curtains of dirt coming off her. Across her ribs was a nasty bit of bruising that was already fading.

“Can you be healed?” he wondered, struggling to stay calm, once again furious at the ritual.

She shook her head. “I already put a balm on it, don’t hug me too hard.” Aiko entered the shower, the tiger’s grime joining its master’s. “Come, bathe with me,” Diana urged with a gesture.

He stripped and joined her, closing the glass door behind him. Aiko settled down on the opposite wall as he stepped into the waterfall. Diana wrapped her arms around Jonah, setting her face against his chest. She ran her hands up his back, pressing herself into him.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, having calmed down.

“Anything,” she replied.

“Why did you want to stop last time? You know, when we were fooling around…”

She exhaled painfully, carefully holding her side away from him. “I last pleased myself the night my sister was murdered,” she said quietly. She patted his back as he jolted in surprise.

Such a horrible link, he didn’t blame her for not being up to it the last time he had tried.

“Don’t feel guilty, I am sorry for keeping it in. I didn’t want to sour the pleasure I worked so hard to give you that day. I will sort my linkage of the two things eventually, for now, I only want to be beside you.”

He swallowed a lump. “Sorry, it’s automatic,” he said glumly.

“I’m well aware, don’t feel guilty about that, either.” She chuckled, then winced. “My ribs hurt…”

“You have some marks across your… butt too,” he said, trying to keep his voice straight.

“I sat on one of those metal bridges for hours,” she said angrily, looking up at him. “All my padding was for naught, eh?”

“I’ll rub some balm on there if you need me to,” he said with a small grin.

“You may, but I need everything scrubbed first,” she said with another chuckle and grimace.

He set to work with the soft bristle brush and a bar of soap, making her sparkle once more. She held onto him the whole time, yawning heavily as the cleaning wore on. The tubers made her breath rather earthy. Her hair took a long while to be free of sediment and slime. He couldn’t help but run his hands through the deep red strands after his work was done. He placed a fair few kisses on her forehead as she smiled at him.

Taking a seat on the bench, he got on his metal knees and washed her from the hips down. The bruises stood out more and he was careful around them. She laid her head back against the cool wall, arms folded and nearly asleep, as he washed her feet. When he had spent a fair while massaging them, she opened her eyes once more, pushing her toes into his chest.

“Are you jealous of my organic feet?” she asked with a smile.

“No, I just thought you might like them rubbed,” he said nervously.

“It’s amazing, thank you,” she said, her smile growing brighter as her eyes closed again. “I’ve never had a man so attentive.”

“That’s a shame,” he said softly, pushing his thumbs into her arch.

“Quite.” She sighed. Aiko turned to a cat and left the shower with a shake. Diana drew him closer, her feet twisted around his core. “Come sit with me for a moment.”

He rose up and sat down beside her. An arm around her gently, he let himself relax with her. Her breathing grew deeper as she rested against his chest. He looked over the marking on her shoulder, disgusted at the need of it. His hand stroked it and she sat up straighter.

“I slept, but for a second,” she said, blinking. “Take me to bed, please?”

“I hope you sleep well tonight,” he said, helping her up.

“Yes, tomorrow we will find out what happened to the children in that cave,” she said with a yawn.

“Really?” he wondered, holding her up as she clung to him.

“Warren is working on a way to interview them without…” She paused her jaw extending in another yawn. She went on, “He doesn’t want them to go into shock, so he’s building something with Rose. It should work fine.” She slacked in his hold, nearly falling asleep while standing.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he said.

“If only you could fly me there like Rose,” she remarked with a groggy laugh.