The sun falls. Embers detach themselves from the flames, that separate Alice and Indigo, as they rise into the night. “Okay.” Alice’s aquamarine eyes light up. “I have a plan. But I’m going to need your help.”

“Is that why you were looking for me?” To use me?

Alice giggles and pulls out her tongue in a manner that is cheekier than a taunt. “Partially,” she says with a shrug. “Though I also figured I needed an ally, and since we both have things we can offer each other as fellow users of the Craft, I figured it’d be a good deal.” She winks. “To…use each other, that is.”

Indigo still isn’t completely convinced; he’s also still a tad weirded out by the fact that he can’t hide anything from his new partner—even more so now that Alice has surely figured out he feels this way, since she’s giving him a dubious glare.

“Okay! Fine!” Alice huffs. “I admit, it might be a bit creepy. But sometimes you just have to do things in order to survive!”

“Like spying on my fantasies?”

“Oh.” She wriggles her brows at him. “So you do remember.”

Indigo slaps his forehead with an open palm. He groans. “That’s not the point here! Just…tell me what you want already.”

Alice huddles closer to the campfire. Her head tilts forward a bit, like a bird who has forgotten to stand up straight. “The ingredients on the potion I showed you,” she says. “I can’t gather them alone.”

Indigo’s attention rises to the sky in search of an answer. Asides from a faint slit of stars and brilliant navy hues, most of what he sees is covered up by a horde of silent-sworn pine trees. “You need them fresh, don’t you?” he finally mutters.

She nods. “I know it’s risky, but trust me on this one—if we don’t do this, then we’ve no chance of getting in.”

“And the files?” Indigo asks her. “We aren’t registered at the Academy. Even if it does work, we’ll still have to get past that somehow.”

A low hum finds its home in Alice’s throat. “We’ll find a way,” she says, pausing, before she adds: “Hey! I know what you’re thinking…literally. But you don’t need to be that harsh.”

Indigo bites his lip. “Alice,” he says, “don’t you realize that we run an even bigger risk of being found out if we go out and kill a man?”

She scoffs, and fans herself in an over-exaggerated manner. “I know it must be difficult to imagine, since you aren’t me and all—but! If we do get busted, I’ll just play the part of the docile healer who was caught up in the attack of a horrid criminal as I attempted to save the poor and helpless Indigo Sarte from his hands.” Her laughter dissipates. “Don’t underestimate my abilities in both acting and in the arts, darling.” Her gaze grows darker. “I’ve been doing this since long before you were even born.”

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“And what if we fail?” Indigo asks her, deadpan. His cheeks are warm, though it is from the fire this time. “What if we can’t get into the Academy?”

Indigo expects a serious reply from Alice, so when the young woman sports one of her signature grins, he starts to wonder if it is honest, or just a way to throw him off since she probably has been in his thoughts…and still is.

“If we can’t get in,” she says, “then we run, and we take a boat far from this land. The worst that could happen is that we become men on a physical level, Indigo! Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

“What’s the catch?” he asks her without even bothering to censor himself—his doubts—anymore since his thoughts will be read either way. “What’s going to happen to me once I take that potion? There’s always a catch when it comes to the dark arts. We both know that.” He averts his gaze, lowers his voice. “We…saw that yesterday, with me.”

“I wish I knew.” Alice sighs and rolls her eyes. “But I read minds, not the future. We’ll just have to try and hope for the best.”

“And you’re not scared?” Indigo’s eyes meet hers once more. “You’re not terrified that you won’t be able to revert back, ever?”

“Hey…” Alice presses her palms to her hips. She frowns. “I might not be like you, but I’d rather just be a man at this point. They have so much more freedom than us. They can do whatever they want. It…must be such a great life that I admit I fantasize over it sometimes.”

Indigo pauses to consider it. “Okay,” he mutters. “Is there truly no other information you can give me, though? At all? There must have been someone who’s tried this particular recipe before—”

“Look,” Alice says with a shrug. “Just judging by the elements involved, I think we both know it’s very likely that it’ll work. And quite frankly, if it’s been trialed before, then it certainly isn’t on record. Of course, I can’t guarantee anything else except for the fact that I’m almost sure it’ll work.”

Indigo cringes. His head retreats back into his shoulders. “Almost?”

“I’ve tested it on animals before. They were low doses; I didn’t want to harm the poor things. It only lasted for a few seconds; however, I can assure you it worked—and even better than I’d expected. So.” Alice rises to her feet and holds her arm out across the campfire. “You in?”

Indigo purses his lips together. Eventually, he grabs her hand and shakes it. “I’m in,” he echoes, while thinking, It’s not as if I could stay in this forest all my life anyway.

Alice’s eyes light up again. She licks her lips. “Great! Now, let me tell you about the family living in these woods! I swear, no matter what we do, they won’t be missed until at least a good couple months! Plus, none of them have the gift! Isn’t that great?”

Upon hearing the mere idea, Indigo feels sick to his stomach. He knows he cannot go through this again—will not go through this again.

He swallows down his ball of nerves and bites the inside of his cheeks. “Actually, Alice…” Indigo’s voice is soft and mellow. Too innocent, he thinks, for what he is about to suggest. “H-how about we spare the family and go for something else?”

Alice tilts her head. It occurs to Indigo that she’s been doing that thing where she runs her tongue along her fangs every once in awhile, and if he didn’t know better, he would figure she is bloodthirsty. It’s only survival, he tells himself. Surely, she’s like me and only doing this out of obligation.

Surely.

“I’m listening,” she tells Indigo with her arms crossed, her hips swaying to one side and then the other. “But if you give me an offer not even worth mentioning, you’re on your own and I’ll be taking them all for myself. Now,” Alice chuckles, “tell me, dearest Indigo, what exactly does your something else amount to?”