“JACQUELINE!”

Jac jerked violently awake, a pulse of magic exploding off her, sending over her a shower of leaves and … flower petals?

“Point taken,” came Tobei’s voice from a few yards away. “Bless your warning, Belle.”

“It’s even better if she’s got her hammer in her hands,” Belle’s voice replied brightly.

“She fall asleep holding her hammer often?”

“No, but she wakes up that way often.”

“Ah.”

Jac blinked bleary eyes, trying to understand why she was in a hole in the ground with a halo of flowers around her. Black, shining locks of hair dangled into view beneath a lacy draping of yellow-flowered vines, then Tobei’s upside-down but still beautiful face appeared.

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

“The fuck is this?” Jac gestured at the tree hanging over her.

Belle’s filthy bare feet appeared next, floating around the canopy on her toes. “It’s beautiful. But more impressive than it’s beauty—it withstood your magic.”

Tobei swept the vines aside and slipped under them into the crater, wearing that cocksure smile. The slight, dappled sunlight through the leaves brought out all the green-gold flecks of his eyes, rimmed by those thick black lashes. A man had no business being so pretty.

He plucked one of the flowers and smelled it, smiling at Jac all the while. He twirled his fingers and the flower rose into the air, twirling too. Then he kissed his fingers, and when he blew the kiss at her, the flower floated along as well until the velvety petals brushed her lips.

It was too soon after she’d woken up for this.

Satisfied at the look on her face, or maybe at the skittering of her heartbeat, Tobei settled back against the edge of the crater. The plain tunic he wore still bore her dusty footprint on the chest.

Jac took the flower and asked quietly, hoping Belle would be too into her magic or whatever and she wouldn’t hear. “You did this?”

Tobei gave a reluctant sigh. “I wish.” Then, to himself, he grumbled, “And he names me Show-off.”

“Oh,” Jac said and, knowing it would irk him, added, “You mean the handsome one with the dreadlocks? What was his name again?”

“Ben,” Belle replied helpfully because Tobei was too busy pouting, his full bottom lip jutting out, tempting her.

Jac looked down at the flower, then up at the tree hanging over her. She smiled. “It’s sure as shit more impressive than a bouquet of flowers.”

Tobei made an offended noise.

Belle suddenly slid into the splits at the edge of the crater and leaned forward on her elbows, head in hands, so she could see under the vines.

“Jac, he’s scheduled a camp meeting for tomorrow night and if I can spin a story that convinces them all, he’ll grant us help. Elsewise, they’re kicking us out and unofficially not killing us. But until then we’re bound to camp and Clarix is bound beyond it. Oh, and we’ll have escorts for shadows.”

“I call Jac,” Tobei said quickly.

Jac ignored him, even if her belly didn’t. “Who says this?” she asked Belle.

“Dai.”

The audible pop Tobei’s lips made when his jaw dropped made Jac look around. She quirked an eyebrow at him, but he seemed stunned. There was a pause.

Then, from somewhere beyond the canopy, Daivad growled, “What did you just call me?”

The question un-stunned Tobei, and he began to cackle.

Belle pushed up on her palms, her head disappearing once more. “Doesn’t anyone ever call you Dai?”

“No,” Tobei said, his dimples on full display. “Plenty of people have told him to, though.”

Belle dropped back to her elbows to give Tobei a wrinkle-browed look of confusion. “Told him to… Oh.” She snorted when she got the joke.

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Daivad growled something indistinct.

“Belle,” Jac said, “I’ve got some words for you. And only you.”

In no time, Belle had slid under the vines, her curls, dirty and knotted, grabbing a few more leaves to add to their collection. Jac glared at Tobei until he reluctantly climbed back out of the crater.

“And get far enough those monster ears of yours can’t catch any stray words!” Jac called after him.

Daivad growled, “I’m not leaving you unattended.”

Belle stuck her top half back out through the vines and, after some arguing and, Jac was sure, eyelash-batting, she retreated back under the tree, holding up a finger to Jac. While Belle settled, her eyes glazed as she listened to her magic, Jac waited patiently, until Belle finally pointed her finger at Jac.

“They’re far enough?”

“I think so.”

“Alright.” Jac leaned forward, folding her legs under her. “What the fuck?”

Even just sitting there, Belle was buzzing. Jac could practically feel the nervous energy crackling in the air around her like static. “You want to fight, right?”

“You know I do, but—,” Jac couldn’t help the flash of anger across her face, nor the shame that came after. “You know there’s … only so much I can do.”

Jac braced herself, and her golden gaze locked onto Belle’s sweet face, as if daring her friend to let pity pinch her brow or settle heavy in the corners of her pink mouth. But Jac only saw more of that fidgety energy as Belle chewed her lip, picked at her nails.

Belle asked, “You talking about your contract?”

Jac winced, and instead of answering, focused on untying the canteen from the belt around her waist. She took a long, deep drink.

“The loophole has let you keep your practice so far,” Belle said. “Even outside Lushale’s law, even here in Silvax Forest, pounding holes into the earth.” She patted the crater wall next to her for emphasis. “So long as you’re protecting my soft little hide, right?”

“That was before I knew your soft little hide was bound for Treason City, Nyxabella.”

Belle cocked her head. “Does it work like that?”

“I don’t know.” Jac flexed her hands, trying to feel the familiar heat that came alongside her magic.

“We read the contract well, a hundred times and one. I can’t name a clause that spoke of my intent at all.” Belle said, “So even if I’m committing treason, your practice should still be yours, right?”

“We don’t know exactly how big the loophole is,” Jac said, voice low, just in case Belle had been wrong and they could still hear. She gripped her canteen. “I can’t name when it’ll cinch tight around my neck.”

Jac stared Belle down, but she saw only freckles and big, oddly-shining eyes, no evidence of pity. Then again, Jac had never been best at giving name to the feelings that tugged at the faces around her, and Belle had always been best at hiding them. Jac narrowed her eyes.

In response, Belle leaned forward, matching Jac’s pose, and narrowed her eyes as well, just inches from Jac’s. Jac sucked her teeth, so Belle did the same.

“Quit acting like a brat,” Jac said.

“Quit acting like the body before you isn’t named Me,” Belle replied brattily.

Even so, Jac relaxed. She was right. This strange place, these strange people, this fucking forest had Jac wearing every bit of armor she had. She’d forgotten that here, with Belle, she didn’t need it. And it was a hell of a lot easier to get to the heart of the issue when she didn’t have to go through any chest plates.

Belle smiled and leaned forward a few more inches to kiss Jac’s nose, then rocked back to the position she’d been in before. “You know I’d never ask you to shed your practice for me.”

“I know,” Jac said, letting her shoulders droop and taking another long drink. “And you know I’d help you fuck up the queen’s shit any day, but my foolish ass had to sign away my fucking magic.”

“Your practice,” Belle corrected. “Cuppedia can’t take your magic.”

Jac had tried many times to explain to Belle that for normal people, magic with no practice was useless. And Belle had tried just as many times to explain that magic was never useless, that magic was in everything and its opposite, practice or not. Jac could understand in theory what Belle was trying to say, but that didn’t make it feel true. When Jac couldn’t practice, she felt utterly, wholly, hopelessly powerless.

“We’ll find a way to get your practice back under your own name,” Belle said. “Ay, you never know. Someone here may know how to void the contract or—”

“Belle—”

“My tongue will keep word of the contract safely within my own head, obviously,” Belle said quickly. “The words on it now are just suggestion. You know, if you find someone you’d trust with a problem so personal.”

Jac massaged her aching head. “It took me twenty-three years to find someone to trust the first time, I’m not gonna find another in Mother-damned Silvax Forest in the next day and a half.”

Belle looked up at the leaves above them, mumbling calculations to herself. “Five years ago… Twenty-seven take away five …”

Jac rolled her eyes and waited.

“Twenty… It should be twenty-two, not twenty-three.”

“Twenty-two when I met you,” Jac said. “Twenty-three when I trusted you.”

“Ooooh.” Then she frowned. “Wait, but I trusted you right away!”

Jac shrugged. “I’m a trustworthy bitch, not a trusting bitch.”

Belle mumbled, “Well either way you’re still a bitch,” but couldn't manage to keep a straight face while she did.

“Focus, Belle. What exactly is the scheme hatching inside that wicked little head of yours? And how does the fucking Traitor Prince fit into it?”

Belle perked up, and all that buzzing energy rolled off her anew. “Glad you asked.”