Arriane

By the time we broke camp the next morning, I had just about convinced myself I was overreacting. Overnight, and during my watch, I’d thought about Sal’s words - both because it made sense, and also because I wouldn’t put it past her to quiz me on them later. She was tricky enough to consider the lecture portion a lesson.

I concluded a few things. First, I was getting ahead of myself. It was pointless to worry about Rook before I knew what or who she liked. Second, following Sal’s logic, just because I hadn’t found an attractive man yet, didn’t mean I never would. Maybe I just hadn’t seen the right guy yet. Minus drunk idiots in bars, I’d seen less of them than I had women. Then I could like men and just ignore women, magic or no magic.

I ignored the little niggling voice in the back of my head that told me it might not be that easy.

And third, why was I worrying about romance in the first place? Regardless of my thoughts on Willhelm - and I had a lot of them - the fact was that he needed to be rescued before we could do anything else. Even if that meant fighting and possibly killing Ulgafrag, who I’d always felt a connection with. Even if it might mean the end of the magic. It surprised me that I could look at it now and be grateful, but Sal had forged me into too good of a warrior to ignore a useful tool forever. Even if once upon a time Willhelm had explained to me in excruciating detail that no one would ever want me.

Sal’s words echoed in my mind. ...you took on the attributes of the story’s prince to do so… I’m sure he’s quite lovely by now. I’d never really known why Willhelm had hated me. At the time, I’d assumed I was just a convenient target - so much larger and more muscular than everyone else, plain faced, and lacking the social graces and understanding that seemed to come so easily to the rest of them. The other popular princesses had made snide remarks - why not him as well?

But now… now I wondered if there was something more. What must it have been like, to be a prince trapped in that role? Had his disgust masked envy? Or had he embraced it like I had, and I was overthinking things? My emotions were a confused swirl of guilt and fear, anger and trepidation, all mixed together and feeding off of one another.

A pair of boots appeared in front of my eyes, and I looked up, startled. Sal looked at me, her face unreadable, and I realized we were ready to go. I stood up and stretched. Then ducked as she tossed me a weighted practice sword, followed by a… blanket wrapped around a rock? Her expression was sardonic, and I blushed, then picked up the blanket and looked at her questioningly. Rook was perched on the wagon, watching us bemusedly.

Sal nodded at the blanket. “Wrap that around your right forearm. I’ll help you tie it. Then standard one-hand work with your left, and alternate with unarmed strikes with your right.” I gave an obligatory groan. I didn’t really mind, of course. The lesson about losing my conditioning was still fresh, and I was still a little weirded about the whole out for six days but healed thing and this was a good way to test everything out. But Sal has the occasional odd notion about how humans are supposed to react, and she always gets vaguely disappointed and suspicious if I don’t complain at least a little when she assigns me work.

She finished tying the blanket, and I tested the movement before nodding and picking up the sword in my off hand, the unfamiliar weight dragging and making me feel off balance. I nodded and lifted my arm. Time to get to work.

* * *

Thrust. Elbow. Step. Block. Punch. Step. I fell into the rhythm, occasionally breaking into a short jog to keep pace with the cart. High stab. Grab. Disarm. Throw. Moving slowly, precisely, so that eventually I would be able to do them in my sleep, focusing all of my attention on getting it exactly right.

Well. Almost all of my attention.

The princess walked up to dragon mount,

To meet the three witches all in the nude

she took off her clothes and her sword and her hat

because anything else would be terribly rude

“I don’t wear a hat,” I muttered. I tried to put it out of my mind, concentrating on doing the slash properly. I was having trouble keeping my grip right. But Sal’s soft voice was hard to ignore.

The first witch was golden and strong with her claws

fierce and protective, a real mother cat,

the second was skinny and old and weak

the most dangerous thing that you ever saw sat

Sal ended the verse and strummed along, humming to herself, and I snuck a glance at Rook. Between the goggles and the cloak it was hard to tell, but somehow from the way she was perched on the wagon I would have bet on disconcerted. Maybe it was how she was balanced as absolutely far from Sal as she could get.

Sal’s voice drifted out. “Hrm. Rook. I was wondering if I could ask your advice.”

I missed a step, then gritted my teeth. Sweat dripped down into my eyes, and I tried to shake my head with the next movement. There’s a reason I didn’t usually train this way. It was a little dangerous, I was going to be exhausted by tonight, and it wasn’t as helpful as you might think. I was pretty sure it was really Sal hammering in the lesson that I had been crazy to go off on my own yesterday, since I’d interrupted her dressing me down verbally. And I was ok with that, and I guess I probably deserved it. It was a good time to do it anyway, since the bandits were still disappointingly avoiding this area.

Rook sounded hesitant. “Yes? I mean, of course.”

Sal strummed a few more bars before speaking. “I was wondering if you had any suggestions for a rhyme with the word goddess.”

There was a moment of - well, not silence, because there was my labored breath, the creak of the wagon, Churchmouse grumbling, and a few errant notes from Sal’s lute. But there was a thoughtful pause. “Well. There are the obvious mess and less, of course. Godless fits but is very similar. Thoughtless, process, flawless… if you are willing to branch into near rhymes there is, oh, novice and bodice...” She trailed off, then added, “Sorry. Too many?”

“No, no.” Sal sounded amused. “Although… I suppose it might be helpful if I gave more context?” I saw Rook nod. “Specifically, I am looking to rhyme with ass of a goddess.”

It was one of those events that’s a combination of several separate little things going wrong. I was tired, and not paying attention. We were nearing the top of a hill, following a small winding path. The ground itself was almost entirely loose rock, the trail consisting of lonely spots of level dirt struggling to stay alive. And when Sal said ass of a goddess, I missed a step.

Listening to them talk I’d drifted away from the center, so my misstep took me to the edge of the trail, right at the drop off. I was off balance, but the rock I stepped on as I tried to recover looked stable. It looked like every other rock on the trail as it sat there, innocently.

It was a liar.

As soon as my weight shifted I felt the rock move, sliding out and shooting down the hill. I tried to recover and pull back, but I was too tired and slow, and my weight was already committed. I had time to swear, and then I was tumbling down the hill. I heard a shout behind me - I think from Rook - but I was too busy to respond.

I dropped the sword immediately and formed a ball as best I could, tucking in my head. I also tried to cradle my injured hand against my chest. The first three rolls were the worst, as I was trying to recover and get into the proper position, and I knew I’d be covered in cuts and bruises. But I also knew it was just going to get tougher as I picked up speed.

The slope was a little too steep for me to stop completely. Fortunately for me, when you spar a lot with someone who’s spent hundreds of years practicing hand to hand combat you learn how to fall. Tumbling down a hill isn’t exactly the same, but some of the same principles apply. And if I timed this right…

I pushed off hard with my good arm on the next roll, rising up into the air, and then I was still sliding down the rocky slope. But I was on my feet, legs akimbo and arms spread wide for stability. And totally blind - I’d started a miniature rockslide, and dust and grit filled the air. It filled my lungs, making me hack and cough, and the weight on my right arm kept throwing me off, but somehow I kept my balance.

My leading foot struck a larger rock, and it was pure instinct that let me absorb the shock and ride it out. I felt the rock give and start rolling, and I pushed off hard and let it take most of my momentum with me. Then it was just a matter of digging in, and slowly I slid to a stop.

With the giant dust cloud it was a minute or three before I could see and speak. I ended up about three quarters of the way down the hill, and I could make out two figures peering down at me (Churchmouse didn’t appear to care). I took a deep breath, which was a mistake. Once I stopped coughing, I spoke as loudly as possible without setting off my throat. “I’m alright!” I waved further on. “I’ll make my way over and meet you on the other side!”

They regarded me for a moment, then Sal’s voice drifted down the hill. “You dropped your sword!” Then they turned away and started moving again.

I gaped up at them, then swore and started hunting.

* * *

By the time I found the practice blade, dug it out, and made my way around, I was dead on my feet. I’d lost most of my water, and there wasn’t anything drinkable close, so thirst clawed at my throat. And the way I felt, I was pretty sure that ten seconds falling down a hill had done more damage than ten minutes fighting in a bar.

When I stomped up Sal and Rook were stopped and eating a late lunch. They looked up as I came around the curve of the hill, then stopped what they were doing and stared. I pulled up a few feet away, sighed, and waited.

Rook started giggling first, almost falling over before she caught herself. She stopped, then looked at me and started again. Sal kept her composure better, but I could see the smile lurking and her eyes dancing.

The problem was that before my tumble, I’d been working up a sweat, and then I’d slid through a dust cloud. I was literally covered in it. Every piece of skin, my hair… I itched in places I didn’t want to think about. I wasn’t exactly sure what I looked like, but from the reaction I gathered it was close to what I expected.

Sal reached down and tossed me a waterskin. I lifted it up and drank, the cool water an instant relief that made me consider forgiving her for about a second. Then she spoke. “You stopped doing your exercises.”

I stopped drinking for a moment - not good to drink too much at once - and gave her my best are you serious face. She kept immobile for a second, then broke into a grin. “The effect is somewhat ruined currently, dear.” Then more seriously, “Are you hurt?”

I shrugged, then took another drink before speaking. My voice was still a rasp. “Could be worse. Don’t think I hurt my hand more, the rest is just small cuts mostly.”

Rook seemed to have mostly recovered, although I could still hear the occasional suspicious sound coming from her whenever she looked in my direction. Sal studied me for a moment, then shook her head. “We can clean some of it off, but I am afraid you will need to live with being somewhat dirty until we get back to the hot springs.”

I grunted in acknowledgement, then used a bit of the water to clean my hand and face. Sal frowned at me as I held up my hand.

She sighed and tossed me some of our jerky. “You should not waste the water. The next spring is still nearly two hours away.”

I shook my head. “There’s a small shaded pool, maybe fifteen minutes from here. Little bit off the path, but not bad.” I frowned at myself as I realized I wasn’t sure how I knew about that pool. But it felt right, so I shrugged. Finishing off the water, I tossed the empty skin back in the wagon and started off, still munching on the jerky.

Rook giggled again as I walked past, and I rolled my eyes. Then a thought occurred to me. I called back to Sal, pitching my voice to carry. “Hey. How would you rhyme giggling witch?”

They’d mostly stopped laughing by the time we got to the pool.

* * *

Twelve days covered in dirt, grit, and dust in places I didn’t want to think about it.

I let out a moan of pure bliss as I lowered myself in. It was the same one I’d used before. I’d desecrated an earlier pool that was now significantly more mud-like, since it would have been a crime to enter this one as dirty as I’d been. The heat soaked in, and I let my head loll back and just floated. Earlier I’d been hissing in pain as I scrubbed at my cuts, but now the aches just magnified the sense of pleasure from the hot water.

My eyes shot open at the splash to my right, and I started to rise as I turned my head. Then I froze as I beheld Rook. I’d seen her nude before, the first time we met. But then I’d been apprehensive and on the defensive, my mind filled with warnings and watching for traps. And she’d been further away, across the fire.

Now she was lit by moonlight only a handful of paces away, and my breath caught in my throat. With her coloring she appeared like a heavenly spirit just ready to descend into the pool, an apparition that might evaporate on the wind or disappear if I looked away. I felt caught, spellbound, and it was only when her eyebrows rose that the spell broke and I realized I was staring. And holding my breath.

I took a deep breath and flushed, hoping that the tan I’d been developing over the past couple of weeks would hide it, and let myself back down into the water. I was suddenly very aware that certain parts of me liked to float. I made myself meet her eyes, and I smiled apologetically. “Sorry. You startled me.” Then I did my best to casually look away.

I felt the small waves as she slid in the rest of the way. “I’m just glad I can still sneak up on you sometimes.” her voice was wry, and I remembered the first day as I’d approached the mountain.

I shrugged. “You’re really very good. I just caught an occasionally glimpse against the skyline - an extra rock here and there. That’s a nice cloak.” I let a little of my envy show. I can disappear pretty well with some cover - part of the woodcraft package, I guess - but dwarven cloaks are absolutely unbeatable when it comes to rocky surroundings.

She made a disgusted noise. “Cat told me that cloak was going to make me lazy.” Then, with a curious note, “But you said you saw both of us?”

I lifted my hand and waggled it. “I never actually saw Cat. Or heard her. But I could tell where she was by the sound of the insects, since they got quieter whenever she got close.”

Rook was quiet, and I risked a glance. She was staring at me in disbelief. I grinned sheepishly. “What?”

She shook her head. “Just… insects? Wow.”

We settled in and just enjoyed the water for a bit. Well, maybe she did. I was hyper aware that we were bathing together - I could practically feel her presence - and relaxation eluded me. I wanted… well, I wasn't precisely sure what I wanted. But it wasn't doing me any good to sit here wondering, so I searched for a safe conversational topic.

“Rook?”

“Yes?” Her voice was soft and intimate, and it occurred to me that maybe talking wasn't the best idea. But it was too late now.

“I was wondering - earlier today Sal called Twilight’s End dragon mount. Do you know what she meant by that? Did the dragons build it?” It had been bugging me off and on all day, but I hadn't been in the mood for long talks.

“Build? Oh, no, it's a natural formation. Well, mostly - the passage and central area were carved out long ago. Dragon mount is an old term for a volcano, although it's not used much any more.”

Her voice took on an appealing lecturing quality, and I sat back and let her words wash over me, the muscles in my back unknotting. It sounds contradictory when I think of it that way, but I have fond memories of Sal’s lessons from when I was younger. They were always interesting and frequently amusing. And even when I struggled to understand her, Rook had a way of speaking - or maybe something in her tone - that made it seem like she was vaguely embarrassed to know so much. As if anyone reasonable would be ignorant, and would you please forgive her for being educational? I found it endearing.

Or maybe I was projecting my own insecurities and adding in a dose of wishful thinking. Whatever. I was going to stick with my original assessment. I focused back on her words. “- of course, I can see why you thought it was constructed. The crystallized pillars do appear too regular to be natural, but according to Scholar Xtirn’s study of volcanic formations similar columns appear with some regularity. His hypothesis was that it was related to how the magma contracted when it cooled.”

I considered her words for a minute, then sat up straight. “Wait - you live in a volcano? What if it explodes?!” I mean, I'd never seen one and had only the vaguest understanding of what a volcano was. But from what I remembered they weren't exactly a friendly piece of geography.

“What? Oh, no. It's perfectly safe now.” She chuckled, and friendly tone or not this time I flushed in embarrassment. “It's been millions of years since it was active. There's some question as to whether it was even a volcano at all, it might have been some other- Arriane? What are you - oh, no. I didn't mean to laugh, truly.” She scooted over and grabbed my hand. “Please forgive me?”

Forgiveness was the last thing on my mind. Rook’s hand was warm against mine, her fingers rough and calloused, the hands of someone not afraid to work with them. I wondered again why I persisted in thinking of her as bookish and delicate. Perhaps the first was true, but the second…

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I realized I hadn't responded, and I looked over at her. She was studying me, her face a picture of concern that changed to something else as she read my expression. Still looking at me, she brought her other hand up, cradling my larger one in both of hers. She paused, then shifted her grip. Too late I realized she was taking my silence for permission. I opened my mouth to ask her to stop, and then she traced the center of my palm with one sure finger.

My hand convulsed, and the sound I made, had it not come from my own throat, was something I would have sworn the human throat was incapable of producing. Rook smiled at me, knowing and confident and mysterious. I watched her dumbly, wondering when she'd transformed from her normal shy and somewhat awkward self into this new creature.

Her fingers moved, from my palm up my arm. She paused at my wrist, and I could feel my pulse pounding under her touch before she continued up, tracing the swell and texture of my muscles. I swallowed hard. And wondered, distantly, what kind of magic touch this was. I did not ever remember seeing my hand or forearm on any of Sal’s charts or tests. Maybe it was a two girls thing?

“What are you doing?” It came out breathy, and it was a silly question. But my brain didn’t seem to be fully functional at the moment, so it was all I could come up with.

She raised an eyebrow while her fingers continued to dance on my skin. “Seducing you.”

I felt hypnotized, watching her. It seemed like I should move away, should do something, but some part of me never wanted her to stop and currently it was winning. Words. I should try words. “You seem… different.”

She paused, and to my horror my hand moved on its own, rubbing against her fingers in a reciprocal motion. Her other eyebrow rose to join the first one. “So do you.” She leaned to the side, and kissed the inside of my wrist. It was like a magical shock up my arm, and I groaned involuntarily.

I seemed to be breathing harder than necessary. “We should stop.” It came out shaky - very convincing.

Rook lifted her mouth from my arm and gave me a knowing look. “Do you want me to stop?” But she stopped moving her hands, and that gave me room to think.

I tried to work through the problem. All the same arguments still applied that said this was a bad idea. I didn’t know if I actually liked her, or if it was the magic trying to guide and shape me. I didn’t know what she wanted. She was going to sleep with Willhelm. And it was still a distraction.

But oh, gods. I wanted her to keep touching me. I had spent so long convinced - maybe convincing myself - that I’d never have this. That I’d never be touched, beyond possibly the platonic hugs and such with Sal, that I would never have something with even the possibility of more. But now I had a taste, and every fiber of my being was screaming at me to say no, to let her continue. Even if it was just the magic. Even if she wasn’t really human. And even if in the end she’d betray me for Willhelm.

In the end, what it came down to was fear. Partly that it wasn’t real, and that in the end I’d lose her. But mostly, it was that little niggling fear that told me this was a trick. An echo from the past that told me it didn’t matter if Rook wasn’t human - there was no way she could like me for real.

So I opened my eyes and lied, making it as firm and absolute as I could. “Yes.”

Rook’s disappointed look hurt more than I expected, but I steeled myself as she let go and pulled away. And then I frowned. There was this kind of rumbling sound… my eyes widened, and I stared at the center of the pool where the water was starting to bubble higher and higher. The ground shook slightly, and I stood up.

Rook stood up too, eyes wide. She yelled over at me. “Were you lying?!” She sounded extremely incredulous.

I glanced at in her in confusion - why would that matter - but… oh. Oh, fuck me. I’d lied in a hot spring protected by an ancient magic. And it considered lying the same as violence. I swore under my breath, then shielded my eyes as the column of water exploded into the air.

* * *

The spray of warm water on my face vaguely reminded me of blood, and I grimaced while I considered my options. My armor was useless. It was clean, but it was too far away and would take too long to get ready. Binder was a possibility if I moved right now, but for him to be of any real use here, I’d have to release the magic he was currently storing. And that would lead to other problems. The only real option left was diplomacy, so I waited for the spray to start to die down, then straightened and faced the column.

Rook marched up and stared up at me, hands on her hips. “You lied. Why?”

She sounded seriously ticked off, and I held back a sigh. “Look. I was…” I gulped, then forced myself to go on, “I was afraid, ok? I haven’t exactly had the best, well…” I trailed off as she held up a hand.

“That’s interesting and all, but we can do the drama later. What I mean is why would you lie here, of all places?” She pointed at the giant column. “I thought Sal warned you?”

I grimaced. “Yes. But you were all distracting and stuff. It was hard to think straight.” I shrugged. “I forgot.”

She narrowed her eyes, probably to berate me on my stupidity, but before she could speak a shadow cut off the moonlight. We looked up, and I heard a soft gasp from Rook. I admired her restraint - personally I felt like screaming and running away.

It loomed, a huge presence that spoke to some unconscious instinct. It said I am big and you are not, and I can crush you without effort. Only the fact that I'd spent years sparring against a fifteen foot tall dragon kept me from breaking, and even still it was all I could do to just stand there and tremble. In the dark my only impression I could come away with was, oddly, fuzzy glass.

It just hovered there and bubbled at us. Then it stopped, and to my shock Rook responded, and I realized it was speaking.

They burbled back and forth while I listened in bewilderment. My only clue to what was happening was Rook’s body language - if there was such a thing as tone, it was lost to my ears. And from what I could tell she was arguing with it.

I rubbed my arms as I listened. I felt my fear fade somewhat, not disappearing entirety, but lessening with every moment I spent under this thing without something bad happening. It occurred to me that I had spent a suspicious amount of time lately listening to ancient incomprehensible magic creatures while naked. I shook my head, dismissing the thought. Even if that was true, it had to be a coincidence.

What I was feeling in place of that fear was impatience. I had no idea what was going on, or what it - or Rook - were saying. All I knew was that Rook seemed angry, and she was… she was shaking her finger at it. At some sort of giant magical thing. Great. I wanted, badly, to grab her and make her explain what was going on. But I was pretty sure losing my temper wouldn't end well, so I tamped down on it and stewed in silence.

Finally though, I just couldn't take it anymore. I had enough presence of mind to wait for a pause, then I stepped over. “Rook.” She ignored me and started bubbling again. I hesitated, but damn it all, I needed to know. I reached out and lightly touched her shoulder. “Rook.”

She cut off whatever she was saying and turned to glare at me. “Kind of busy.” She bit off the words and shifted fluidly out from under my hand, then turned her head upwards and bubbled something apologetically. Then she looked back at me, and her expression softened as she took in the look on my face. “Trust me, Arriane. Let me handle this.” She lifted her hand toward me, then hesitated and let it drop.

I stared down at her. There was just enough light for me to see the expression on her face, pleading and hopeful. Did I trust Rook? I wasn't sure. She had her own motivations and reasons for being here. And my judgement of her had to be considered suspect.

On the other hand, she also hadn't given me any reason not to trust her. And I didn't see any better options presenting themselves. So I swallowed my anger and impatience, put aside my misgivings, and nodded to her. Her return smile was bright and guileless, and I felt oddly guilty for letting her think I really trusted her.

I turned away as she started talking again, still wondering if it was really the best decision to leave everything in her hands. But I never got a chance to find out, because a minute later Sal came around the corner and started roaring at us.

Well, technically she was speaking conversational draconic, but it's hard to tell the difference if you're not a dragon. I felt a moment of relief at Sal’s appearance, until I realized the primary change was I now had three people arguing over me in languages I didn't understand, instead of just two. I threw my hands in the air and walked to the edge of the pool and climbed out. Then I… may have sulked a bit.

A few minutes later, I turned at the soft sound of footsteps behind me to find Rook standing there, wearing only a grim look and carrying a knife. My eyes went wide, and I tried to discreetly ease away into a position I could defend myself from. Rook looked at me, exasperated, then took the knife and sliced the back of her arm open.

She held it out to me while I gaped at her in shock. “Drink.” I stared at her some more, and she rolled her eyes. “It took us this long to convince him that cutting myself isn't violence. Now, do you want to understand what's going on or not?”

I watched the blood well from her skin. “Underst- that will make me understand draconic?”

“And formal spirit, as long as you get off your ass and drink it before I need to cut myself open again.” Her voice practically vibrated with impatience, and she stepped closer and thrust her bleeding arm in my face.

I stared. I'm not exactly squeamish, but I've also never sucked blood from an open wound. But I'd also been throwing a hissy fit over being excluded, and I didn't want her to use the knife again. So I womaned up, leaned forward and sucked her blood.

It wasn't pleasurable. It didn't taste good. But it was oddly intimate, sucking on her forearm while we were naked in the moonlight, and a little reminiscent of what had caused this trouble in the first place. So I found myself blushing.

Just when I was starting to get desperate to stop, Rook pulled away with a grimace. “That should be sufficient.” I wanted badly to spit, but at the thought of possibly doing the whole thing again I forced myself to swallow instead.

Rook kept talking, but my attention was captured by the figure in the pool. I hadn't been able to see it clearly before, and I hadn't looked back during my snit. But now I could see him in his full glory.

He towered some thirty feet into the air. His bottom half was a constant swirling vortex, steaming and bubbling coils of water. The top half was still all water, but formed into the upper body of a naked man, well muscled in the averagish heroic proportions that spirits and gods and fae always seem to go with when they take a male aspect.

His head was more interesting, with character instead of being blandly handsome. In place of hair, his scalp was covered with distinctive feathers of a bird I wasn't familiar with. And for some reason he was wearing a pair of spectacles.

And as I watched his bubbling resolved into words. Currently he was lecturing Sal in a somewhat pedantic tone. “- the fact that you initiated the chain of events has no bearing on the finding of fault. If I allowed that then blame could be deflected to any number of effectively unrelated parties.” He coughed delicately, then fiddled with his glasses. “I've already disallowed the maiden witch, and she was closer to the offense than you. I - no, it simply won't do. I can't allow it.”

Sal was unmoved. “I understand, but I am hardly an unrelated party. The princess is my ward, on a class one magical story quest. Surely some accommodation can be reached due to extenuating circumstances? After all-”

I tuned out the legalese, confident Sal had him in hand for now. Spirits never turn down a chance to argue law. But it wouldn't hold him off forever - I doubted Sal could convince him it was her fault I lied (and that was going to be a fun conversation later. I didn't need a dragon meddling in my love life). Especially if Rook had already failed. I was going to have to apologize for doubting her, but that would also have to wait.

I considered my options again, but nothing new presented itself. I turned back and looked at the spirit. He was messing with the glasses again, and kind of looking off to the side. I frowned. Was he - yes. He was avoiding looking at Sal’s nude form, in a cutely bashful way.

The inspiration was so outlandish that I almost dismissed it out of hand - there was just no way it could work. But I didn't have anything else, so I turned to Rook. I needed to know if it was even possible. She was glaring at me, and I winced as I remembered ignoring her. “Shit, sorry. He was distracting. And ah, can it wait? I have an idea.”

She frowned at me. “About time. And no. We need to grab our things and get out of here while Sal has it distracted. She thinks the odds are good we can get out before he realizes we're gone. Then she said she'll grab Churchmouse and join us when she can.”

I watched them as I drummed my fingers on my thigh. “No.”

Rook gaped at me. “What? She said it was the only way-”

I shook my head. “It’s a sacrifice move. She doesn’t expect to get out.” I’d release the magic from Binder before I let that happen. I looked at Rook, tilting my head. “How did you two plan this, anyway?”

She was looking at me, a neutral expression on her face, and I realized she’d known Sal didn’t expect to make it out. There went that apology. She shrugged. “He doesn’t speak human.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “So you have an idea?”

I hesitated. It still went against nearly all of my experience and expectations. But if it gave Sal a shot… I checked the two of them again. No signs of imminent hostility, so I turned back to Rook. “I need to ask you some questions first.”

She nodded. “Shoot.”

I opened my mouth, then paused. “Uh… they’re going to sound weird. But I need you to know that these are completely and utterly serious, and that Sal’s life depends on you answering them accurately.”

She looked a little more unsure now, but nodded again. “I- ok.”

I took a deep breath, then looked her in the eye. “Do you find me attractive?”

She stared at me, expression growing increasingly more incredulous. I jerked my head at Sal and the spirit to reminder her that we were on a time limit, and she shook her head as if to clear it. “That…” she took a deep breath. “Yes. I find you attractive.” She frowned at me. “I thought I’d made that clear earlier.”

My heart gave a little jump, despite the situation. She really was beautiful in the moonlight. But… ok, focus. I smiled at her. “Thanks. Ok, number two. Are you human?” I held up a hand. “You don’t need to tell me what you are, just…”

She shrugged. “No. I am not.”

Ok. Two out of three. Which left the final, most important unknown. One that, in my admittedly limited experience, was perhaps the single most intimate question one girl could ask another. I looked her in the eye.

“Can I borrow some of your clothes?”

* * *

The answer, as it turned out, was kinda. It was a problem of scale. Thankfully most of her stuff was either designed to wrap around her body, so it still worked on my larger frame, or it was very loose on her and tight on me. Thankfully that was beneficial for what I had planned.

I ended up in basically a tight skirt, and a wrap around - and lifting - my bust. To finish it off I strapped Binder to my side. It was a little aggressive for what I planned, but it gave me a backup option, so I’d risk it. Rook was having a hard time keeping her eyes off of me, which I found odd - I’d just put clothing on - but it also boded well for the plan, so I decided to think about it later.

I took a deep breath, watching Rook’s eyes follow me up and down, then checked Sal and the spirit one last time. They were on to arguing precedents, which meant it was probably a good time to interrupt. I took a moment to study the spirit again. There was just something really appealing about him, he kinda vaguely reminded me of… Rook… for some reason. I felt a spark of joy bubble up within me, and didn’t bother trying to contain the grin that spread across my face.

I took a step forward, then stopped and turned to her. She was looking at me with a worried expression, and I decided I should probably try to tone down the smile a bit. But… well, screw it. I turned the smile on her, and watched with interest as her cheeks turned red. “Rook. Two more questions, then I think I’m set.”

She nodded a little dumbly, and I felt my smile widen. “Ok. You said he doesn’t understand human. If I talk to him, do you need to translate?”

She shook her head. “N-no. Your blood - I mean, my blood will cover things. As long as you can understand him, you’re fine.”

“Ok, perfect.” I rubbed my hands together. “Final question - what’s his name?”

“Ah. Well.” Now she blushed again, looking embarrassed. “His formal name is - “ and then she made a rushing noise that sounded like the flow of water from one hot spring pool to the next, followed by a susurration.

I considered that for a moment. “It’s… well, beautiful. But I can’t say it. Is there a translation?”

Now she really looked embarrassed, and too late I was reminded of Cat’s full name. “The best translation is... Bubbly Rocky Hot Spring Man.”

I closed my eyes and counted to three, then opened them. “Bubbly… Rocky…”

“Hot Spring Man. Yes.”

I bit my lip. Then a thought occurred to me, and I peered suspiciously at Rook. “Are you sure you’re not just bad at translating names?”

Her, “No!” was indignant, but I waved off her further protests. It didn’t matter much at this point.

I looked at her consideringly. “Will I massively offend him if I call him Rocky?”

She thought for a moment, then shrugged. “No way to tell.”

“Perfect. Well, here goes.” I took a deep breath, then turned and marched toward the pool. Sal and Rocky were still going at it, voices rising. They seemed to be discussing whether or not certain Prince Charming regulations applied, and I shook my head. If Sal was down to prince precedents, she was getting desperate.

I pulled up to the edge, then waded in. That got Rocky’s attention, and he turned to me and then froze in place. Sal also shot me a glance - it was one that was extremely familiar from my childhood. The “you are not where you are supposed to be” look. I ignored it with long practice, and smiled cheerily up at Rocky.

“Hello!” I waved up at him, and he blinked down at me, disconcerted. Sal wore a nearly identical expression. “Sir Rocky, before we go any further I would like to formally introduce myself. My name is Princess Arriane Dawnjack.” I gave him my best curtsy. It’s pretty sad, if I’m being honest, but I did spend some of my childhood watching (and occasionally aping) my mother and aunts and various older girls, so I was familiar with the basic mechanics. “And I would like to tender an apology for my act of violence in your demesne.”

There was a moment of silence. I saw Sal mouth Rocky?, and then he bent over and peered at me. “Well, I, of course your matron explained, but I simply don’t see how that’s relevant. You-”, he paused as I held up a hand.

“Could you stand back up, please?” I smiled winningly up at him.

He blinked again. “Whatever for?”

“Oh, I just like looking at you in the moonlight.” I let my sincerity fill my words.

He stared down at me, and I saw little bubbles start on his face- was he blushing? He was blushing. I smiled wider. He stood back up and coughed delicately. “I. You. That is, flattery won’t help you, young lady.”

I shook my head. “I don’t expect you to let me off because of flattery.” True - but I was hoping it would help. I grinned up at him. “You just have a very pretty face.” The bubbles sped up, and I hoped I was right that they indicated embarrassment and not, for example, rage. Sal was staring at me like I was insane.

I took a step forward before he could speak again, and inclined my head. “I deeply regret my lie earlier. It was born from fear, but that does not excuse my action.” I looked up and met his eyes. “I will accept any punishment you deem fair. However, I am on a quest - one to free a cursed prince that I have wronged. Therefore, I ask that you delay your punishment until such time as I have freed him.”

Sal now had a calculating look on her face. Rocky stared down at me, bubbles having died down until only the normal smooth flow of his currents was left. I took a breath, and he gulped and looked away from my chest. He took off his glasses and tapped them with his other hand. “You- hrm. An interesting proposal. I can see the truth of your words, and the merit. Yet, justice delayed is not truly justice.” He looked apologetically in my general direction.

Before he could make his final decision, I raised a hand. “I understand.” I didn’t necessarily agree, but I understood, and I’d figured on this. I gave him another smile. “To make up the delay, I offer you two tokens. First, a truth you have never heard before. And second, a promise.” I gave him another curtsy. “Of course, should you not find them to be… acceptable, you may demand immediate justice as is your right.”

He stared down at me, thoughts almost visibly swirling through his head. I was pretty sure he’d take my offer, though. It would make him appear more fair, and he could always just reject them and punish me anyway. Still, it was a relief when he nodded. “Very well. Your terms are acceptable.”

I clapped my hands together. “Great!” I winked at him. “Do you think I could tell you in private? They’re, ah, a little embarrassing.”

His bubbles were back. “Sure- yes. Of course.” He looked at Sal, who walked past me with an unreadable look on her face. I gave her a different kind of wink, and shrugged mentally as I got no reaction.

As soon as she left the pool, a swirling whirlpool of water rose up and surrounded us. And I smiled and stepped forward to talk to the spirit who would determine my fate.

* * *

They waited until we were out of the hot springs to grill me. I was whistling tunelessly, most of our belongings slung over one shoulder, when Sal broke the silence. “That was quite the column of steam.”

“Mmhmm,” I agreed absently. “I thought I was going to be burned for a second, but he was quick to shield me.”

Rook waited a few steps more before trying a different tack. “Must have been quite the truth and promise to change his mind like that.”

I shrugged. “I guess. I mostly just said what I was thinking- hey!” They materialized before me, arms crossed in nearly identical postures. I spread my arms, letting the bag fall to the ground. “What?”

Sal didn’t really frown, but the edges of lips turned down. It was a dangerous face. “If you do not tell us, every other verse of my song will be about your breasts.”

Beside her, Rook scowled at me. “And I will curse you to step in water deep enough to soak your socks, at least once a day for the rest of your life.”

I turned my palms outward. “No need to get nasty. I grew up in a palace, and I did - do - have a sister. I know how this works, ok? But I’m only going to say it once. Then I don’t want you guys badgering me about it.” They nodded in unision.

I crossed my arms. “The truth I told him was that his feathers looked soft and sweet as rain, and I wanted to run my hands through them while I kissed him.”

Sal’s face was blank, her version of surprise. Rook’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she spoke. “Oh.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Satisfied?”

They looked stunned for a bit, then Rook shook her head. “But - what about the promise?”

I smiled widely. “I promised him that I would return, and demonstrate.” I grinned wider at the expressions on their faces. “That was the steam column, in case you were wondering.”

Then I clucked at Churchmouse to follow me, turned around, and started hunting for our wagon.