I lean forward on the bed. "In the back of my head, I've been having these dark thoughts, and they keep getting louder. Now," I slip my mask off, running my hands over my bandaged face, "I've shared my problems. Your turn."

Icarus mimics my sigh. "Esilea only follows me because of my money. She could just kill me and take it at any time. None of you would stop her. Hell, you might even split the taking." He runs a hand across the tanned surface of his scarred head. "My uncle, Daedalus, was betrayed by those closest to him. And that's how I ended up here," he says, gesturing to his wheelchair. "Needless to say, I have trust issues."

I take a seat on the bed again. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't think we're that close." Icarus snorts and I lean forward. "I mean it! I don't know the first thing about you! And, honestly? I don't want to. You seem kind of stuffy and anal about everything. A real genius type. Annoys the piss out of me," I say. Icarus smiles and I return it. "So, I don't think you have anything to worry about, because I don't give a shit about you, and you don't care about me. With the life I lead, I could die tomorrow, so there's no worries about your secrets getting out."

"It's not a secret," Icarus says, shifting awkwardly. "Daedalus trusted a mage to enchant his wings that he and I were going to use to escape the Malorian government. But the enchantment was shit from the start. My uncle was executed, and I learned how it felt to plummet straight into the ocean. And now? Esilea's just so damn trusting. She believes anything. Magic can't be trusted, and who knows if gods exist?" I open my mouth, but shut it to let him keep talking. I'm pretty sure the gods exist, buddy. "I mean, what makes someone a 'god' anyway? But Esilea just takes it all on blind faith. And now with that pirate," Icarus' jaw clenches for a moment, his voice growing quiet. "If Esilea leaves, I'm exposed. I have nothing, and nobody to protect me." I nod, scratching my neck.

"That's a good point. I mean, if she leaves, you're basically a dead man. So," he looks down at the sheets and I tap one of his hands to get his attention, "have you considered being nice to her?" He snaps his head up. "Your money won't last forever, you're right about that. But maybe, if you were nice to her and tried to be good friends with her, she'd stick around because she liked you. Because she's your friend. She wants to like you, Icarus, she really does. But you have to give her something to like."

While he nods, his brow furrows in thought. I stand and unlock my door, removing the chair. Esilea comes rushing through as soon as I open the door. She knocks me against the wall and drops to her knees beside the bed, poking and feeling Icarus.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Is everything alright?" I rub my neck and stretch my shoulders. I'm kinda tired of getting knocked around. (maybe you should do something about it, instead of being a bitch. always a little bitch for everyone, aren't you? ever since you were a kid, you always—) I interrupt myself—which I seem to be doing a lot, lately—by digging my nails into my palms.

"He's fine, Esilea. In fact, he has something he'd like to tell you." Icarus nods and swallows.

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"I, um..." He fidgets with his shirt. "This is so stupid," he sighs. I give him a sharp look and he clears his throat. "Esilea, I'm...sorry. If you want to be with Xian, or trust everyone and everything you meet, I won't judge you." She frowns, standing up.

"I don't trust blindly, Icarus. The only person I trust is you." Okay, that stung a little. "Everyone else barely deserves my respect." I mean, I'm right here guys. "But you've been through so much, and every promise you've made, you've kept. It was us against the world in Ismar, and I like it that way." What am I, chopped liver? Icarus blinks rapidly, quickly wiping his eyes. He holds his arms up like a child, and Esilea picks him up. I see a small smile on her face as she carries the young inventor out. So...success?

"That was oddly effective." I jump, my heart leaping up into my throat. I spin towards the source of the noise, blood hammering in my ears. Wikolia crawls out from under my bed, dusting herself off.

"Why..." I pinch the bridge of my nose, my bandages soaked with sweat. She's the only one that does this to me, and I'm getting sick of it. It's...also kind of nice, in a way. But mostly, awful. "Why were you under my bed?"

"I was asleep, and you stormed in. Where else was I supposed to go?" she asks matter-of-factly.

"In the bathroom. Out the window. Or, you know," I look at her intently, "you could have just got off my bed and walked out of my room."

"I could have," she says, nodding. She flicks a speck of dust off her scales. Silence builds up until I can almost hear it.

"So...you heard about..."

"Your homicidal rage thoughts and Icarus' deepest fears? Yes," the Wyvern says. If it were anyone else, I'd probably have to make some threats right about now. But I'm pretty tired, and it is Wikolia.

"Well, good. I guess." I brush past her and flop onto my bed, stuffing my face into a pillow. It smells different. Like...wood smoke. And deep earth, and fresh rain. Is this what the Wyvern smells like? I hear the door creak open. "Wait!" I shout, turning. Wikolia pauses, turning her blindfolded eyes in my direction. "You saw the wolf who came by, earlier, right?"

"Yes. He went up to Naiomi's room."

"What happened?" The Wyvern's tail twitches and her scales around her cheeks shift to a slightly brighter green. She flicks her tongue out rapidly.

"That...is a private matter not to be discussed," she whispers. If she's too embarrassed to say, then I have my answer. I swear and put my elbows on my knees. I look at Wikolia and clack my teeth together, thinking. This may work. She is stealthy. She could do it.

"Did you get a good look at him?" Wikolia taps her foot and swishes her tail in what I assume is agitation. I look at her blindfold. Right. "What I mean is: do you think you could track him down?" She tilts her head at me.

"Of course."

"And find out everything about him? Name, place of work, allergies; everything?"

"This is me we're talking about," she says, almost sounding insulted. That's what I thought. I grin and stand.

"Good. That's exactly what I want you to do." She taps her claws on the wooden doorframe.

"And what do I get?"

"My everlasting affection." The Wyvern shakes her head and I sigh. "I'll let you sleep in my bed again."

"No." I raise an eyebrow at her, bunching my bandages. "Your mattress is thin, and smells like..." Her tail swishes again and she clears her throat. "Your mattress is thin. And uncomfortable." What does she want then? If I were an unreadable lizard assassin with a twisted and dry sense of humor, and I had all the power in the situation, what would I want? I grin, chuckling to myself.

"I'll get you your own mattress," I say. That gets her attention. "And I'll put it next to the fireplace." She flicks her tongue out once, and nods.

"You'll have the information in twenty-four hours."