It had only been about a month and a half that Pait had been living in the village hidden in the leaves of Silvax Forest, but still. This was the maddest she had ever seen Kadie. The healer was talking almost as loud as the various bright patterns on her flowy, layered dress.

They had arrived back at camp a few minutes ago, and Pait really had no reason to still be standing here except that it was greatly entertaining to watch the friendly, care-giving Kadie absolutely ream the nearly-two-feet-taller-than-her Daivad in front of all of the Duxon crew, who were on their way back from a day foraging.

“I wasn’t seen,” Daivad growled, low, very carefully not looking at Pait or any of the gaping newcomers.

“Broken fucking Earth, Daivad?” Kadie yelled. “Are you shitting me?”

“I wasn’t seen.”

“And you return carrying a beast with you?”

Maxea stood off to one side, lifting her head out of the way every time Kitten zoomed past and leapt, trying to nip at her muzzle. She had turned out to be the secret weapon to dealing with Kitten—the little beast was obsessed with her. So long as Max was around, he showed no interest in anyone else.

Maxea also did not look happy with Daivad.

“It’s temporary.”

“Mother fucking Light and all her Winged Children, Daivad! What—I—” She was so mad she could barely speak. “Name even one thought you had bouncing around that thick fucking skull of yours that drove you to leave without a word and go to Broken fucking Earth?”

The muscles in Daivad’s jaw bunched, and he stared at a distant spot in the trees.

Pait supplied, “He wanted to visit his girlfriend.”

Very slowly, Daivad turned enough to look over his massive shoulder and give Pait a look of pure, distilled exasperation. She would pay for this later, but she was having too much fun right now.

She shrugged and said, “Seemed like you were struggling to name the thought.” Then she smiled.

Kadie was holding her chubby face in her hands, so her words were a little muffled when she said, “At least tell me she filled up some of your questions about the curse.”

Daivad said nothing.

“You—did—ask her—about the curse. Right, Daivad?”

When he still didn’t answer, Kadie looked up at the canopy of leaves above and whispered, “My Light Mother, I swore an oath to you that I would heal, never harm, but surely you can agree, in all your wisdom, that this instance—”

“Pait!”

Tash dropped from the branches, making Pait jump. Tash popped up, her eyes bright with nervous energy.

“Yer back!” She was doing her impression of Doll’s accent again. “’S Ori close behine?”

Pait blinked. “Ori wasn’t with us.”

“You ain’t follow the others?” Tash asked. “I thought the big man,” she hooked a thumb at Daivad over her shoulder, “finally took you to see that train you been wantin’ to—”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

At the snapping of little monster jaws, Tash froze. Kitten zoomed around to come at Maxea from another angle. When the Wolf once again just lifted her head out of reach, his teeth clacked on air.

Tash looked at Kitten, eyes wide. Then she looked at Pait. Then Daivad, and the still-yelling Kadie. Then back at Kitten.

Tash whispered in her normal accent, “Can y’all not see that monster?”

“That’s Kitten,” Pait explained, acting totally calm as if she hadn’t been absolutely terrified of the little beast back in that creepy graveyard. “Just don’t run from him.”

She hadn’t thought it was possible for Tash’s eyes to widen further. “What happens if you run?”

“He chases.”

Clack.

Still speaking low, Tash dared to slip back into her Doll accent. “Why ain’t we killin’ the thing?”

“Only Daivad can fill that question.”

“It ain’t comin’ up in the village, is it?”

Pait shrugged.

Tash grabbed her wrist and said, “Well, let’s go where it ain’t.”

~*~*~

Once they were up in the village, Tash bombarded Pait with questions about where she had been, if she knew how the train robbery had gone, if they would be back soon.

“Who gave you the idea any of that knowledge would be living in my head?” Pait asked as they made their way in the general direction of Tash’s house.

Tash shrugged bony shoulders. “I’m too chicken to ask Daivad, but you live with the guy. Just spent however many days with him. I figured you’ve got just about the same knowledge between your ears that he does.”

Something fuzzy that Pait refused to acknowledge warmed her chest. And then it was followed by a twinge of guilt—she’d not only stood by while Kadie set Daivad on fire, she’d actually heaped shit on him so he burned brighter. Alright, that was a little dramatic, but still.

“Well, if he knows anything about the train job, he hasn’t shared with me. And anyway, name your worry. What’s aboard the train that you’re so excited about?”

It was odd to see Tash, who was usually annoyingly carefree, with a wrinkle between her brows. She chewed on a dirty fingernail as she said, “It’s Ori’s first job beyond camp. I mean, he’s gone into Urden a time or two on orders, but you’d just name that a day trip. This—feels like he’s been gone a month, and it’s no grocery run to Urden. A train robbery! What if he’s hurt, or dead? What if he has been for days, and word just hasn’t found our ears yet?”

Pait shifted her bedroll and bag on her back awkwardly. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say. She’d never had a brother. She’d never had anyone to worry about the way Tash was worried about Ori. She’d never had anyone to worry about her like that either.

A memory, several actually, rose up in Pait’s mind—of sitting across from Daivad at the kitchen table (which was high enough that she had to stack several pillows on the seat under her) in the middle of the night, fingers sticky with honey and eyes swollen, the scent of cinnamon filling the silent room.

Pait said, “You hungry?”

Tash shoved her lightly. “Those aren’t the words you’re supposed to give me! They should sound a little more like ‘I’m sure Ori’s fine,’ and ‘I’d bet when you peel your eyes open tomorrow morning, it’ll be his face staring down, telling you if you want breakfast you’d better start running for it.’”

“I told you, I don’t know enough to name him Fine,” Pait argued.

“That’s not—” Tash sighed. “Never mind.”

They fell into sulky, awkward silence, stepping to one side to avoid passers-by now that they were near the center of the village. As they came up on Tash’s house, she waved Pait off and mumbled a goodbye.

“Ay,” Pait called, and Tash turned. Pait gestured with one hand, and then couldn’t figure out why she’d done that. “I’m sure Ori’s fine.”

There was a beat. And then Tash let out a short snort-laugh and said, “Thanks.”

This time it was Tash’s turn to call Pait back as she turned away. With her usual kid-ish bravado back, she pointed a finger at Pait and said, “Don’t you dare tell Ori I was worried about him! Kid code, okay? No snitching!”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Promise!”

“Yeah, yeah.”