Dawn approached. Calyx could feel it, though there were no apertures to the outside from the cosy depths of the bastion. She shifted in her chair by the fire, wondering what the new day would bring. There seemed to be a shift in energy, though she couldn’t quite place it – perhaps it was just the aftermath of the strange dream she’d had. She watched the grown version of that little girl, curled still in the arms of slumber, her chest rising and falling more easily than it had in days. She wondered if she knew the truth of what Fayne had done to her, to her family. She shivered, tucked the blanket closer over her lap, and pushed the thought aside. Fayne did not bear thinking about.

Across the way, Nerys stirred. She stretched, and her eyes flashed open. Pushing herself up on her elbows, she raised an eyebrow and looked down at herself.

“Well, I’m not dead. That’s a plus.”

“You know-”

“I know, dear. You’re getting really tired of saving me.”

But she smiled, and the tight pinch of her face released for the first time in days. Calyx returned her soft grin, crossing the room to sit beside her. She reached for Nerys’ hand, and Nerys did not protest as she laced their fingers together.

“You almost died,” Calyx murmured, stroking her palm with her thumb, “But we did it. The Fetters are no more.”

Nerys sighed, heartfelt in relief.

“Thank you, Calyx. I owe you a debt I can never repay.”

A thought occurred to her, and she snatched her hand back from Calyx as if it burned. She squinted into the shadows.

“Where is Esadora?”

“I have no idea,” Calyx replied, “She helped us, though, and you’re awake, and hale. That’s what matters. We’ll deal with Esadora later.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

She shifted closer, reached out to tuck a strand of night-dark hair behind Nerys’ ear. Despite herself, Nerys leaned into the silk of her fingertips. Her eyes closed, and her voice tremored as she whispered a warning.

“Calyx…”

Calyx blushed. She withdrew her arm, pushed to her feet.

“I’m sorry. I’m just… happy to see you in one piece, that’s all.”

Nerys opened her eyes, arrested her with a smouldering gaze.

“I hope you don’t take me wrong, dear, because I am, truly, grateful… but perhaps it would be best – now that our adventure is over – if we go our separate ways.”

Hurt blossomed upon Calyx’s face, and Nerys bit at her lip, at odds with herself.

At last, she offered, “I don’t think it’s… wise… for me to be around you much longer.”

Calyx tilted her head, and a small smile unfurled as comprehension dawned.

“Ah.”

Nerys looked up, beseeching, and Calyx schooled her features.

“Stay long enough to gather your strength, at least. You’ve been through a lot.”

She turned away, and a flash of unhappy surprise coloured Nerys’ expression.

“Where are you going?”

“Out. I’ve not been running in days.”

Nerys retreated behind a scowl, jealous, and Calyx smiled at her mutinous expression.

“You said you didn’t want to be around me,” she reminded her wryly, “I won’t be long – make yourself comfortable, and, for the love of Malevelyn, keep out of Esadora’s way.”

She ported, and Nerys gave a sarcastic salute behind her.

Abruptly alone, the Dark Lat’Nemele groaned and buried her face in her hands.

“Leave while you can,” she advised herself firmly, “Nothing here is going to end well.”

Resigned, she got to her feet; cat-like, she stretched, every sinew reaching to its furthest extent. Gods, it felt good to be free of the curse. She shook out her arms, calling her magic to her fingertips. Blessedly, it answered. She allowed herself an indulgent smile as she feathered it into fantastic shapes, dancing them from palm to palm. Oh, how she’d missed it! A miniature phoenix, carved from flames, hatched in her hands. She cast it out, manipulating the fire to hold its form in a beautiful effigy. It circled her head, showering her with sparks, and she laughed in delight as she made it swoop and soar. At last, she closed her fist, and it erupted in a brilliant dazzle of light.

Perhaps she would not move mountains yet, but she felt worlds better than she had. Relieved, she turned her attention to more important things – like finding her way to the front door. Although she was much improved, she wasn’t sure she felt up to porting just yet. The terror of Chaos still lurked at the edge of her mind, and the only way to find out if it still hunted her in the Betwixt was to go in.

Shaking herself against the memory of its hunger, she padded from the room.