Liesel didn't quite wake up with a hangover. But she was surly, vaguely aware of an angry buzz in the base of her skull, and watching Eyes vanish from the foot of her bed with the last rays of sun, which always made for an unpleasant evening.

She kicked off one of the covers that had wrapped itself around her thigh in the sticky heat of the room.

"Rian," she said, voice croaking. "The fucking AC."

"Mphm." Rian's muffled voice came from deep inside a pillow and a thick duvet. It was quite possible he was half-dead from heat, Liesel decided.

She swung her legs out of the bed and hiked her tank-top to her ribs to try and get some air moving around her torso. Discovering the AC was already set to on, and cranked as high as it could go, did not improve her mood. She sat at the edge of the bed for a few moments, staring at the popcorn ceiling as the night set in, bringing cooler temperatures with it. After mentally resigning herself to the night’s tasks, she made her way to the dingy bathroom and flicked on the dim yellow light.

Liesel looked like hell. Her skin had gone from deeply tanned to a sallow brown. Her black curls, which she’d always cut herself, were tangled in a big shaggy triangle around her face. Liesel didn't remember the last time she'd worn anything but grungy tanktops, Rick’s old flannels, and cutoffs. And until she thought about it, she hadn't been certain the phrase "skincare routine" was in her vocabulary.

Did it matter? It wasn't like she'd live old enough to get wrinkles.

No wonder her sister had slammed the door in her face in LA. Liesel dragged her fingers through her hair and tied it back, then washed her face with the provided bar of soap. It left her skin feeling tight, stretched thin across her skull

Still looked like shit, but clean enough shit, so that was something. Liesel left the bathroom to hurl a pillow at Rian.

"Wake up."

"Mphhhmmm," he mumbled in protest. But he pushed free the bedding and rolled onto his back, so it was a start.

Breath was standing in the corner, as he usually did. There was something comforting in his near omnipresence.

"Did I do anything stupid?" she asked.

Breath's head nodded gravely. He had no features to show expressions, but Liesel could read him just as well as any other person.

"Damn. Did it involve that guy from the bar?"

"Did you hook up last night?" Rian asked in a sleepy yet slightly horrified voice.

"I thought you were asleep." Liesel cringed internally at the thought of her lips nearing the creature with the outwardly-curved teeth.

"It's a terrible idea," Breath said. “You’ve promised now. Sworn.”

"It's not that terrible," she countered.

"What isn't?" Rian sat up, yawning. He was dressed in only boxers and a t-shirt with the name of some sport team Liesel didn't recognize, and his hair was licked up on one side, spiky and disheveled. He got his mother’s Desi hair, but the rest of him was his father’s, whoever that was.

"Get in the car." Liesel zipped her suitcase shut.

"I'm not even dressed," Rian protested, wiping sleep from his eyes.

"Figure it the fuck out."

Grumbling to himself, Rian gathered himself up and trailed after Liesel, who already finagling both their suitcases through the door. Behind Rian was Breath, hands clasped far lower on his body than looked anatomically correct. Maybe where his knees should have been, if he had them.

"Have a nice day," said a new attendant, this one a fresh and smiling lady with bright red lipstick and thick mascara.

"Thanks," Rian said, knowing Liesel wasn't going to reply.

Liesel unlocked the car and threw her bags into the back.

"You should consider your course of action more carefully," Breath said. "Who knows what Realm that man was from. His information could be very faulty."

"He's Fae. Fae can't lie," Liesel said, getting into the driver's seat. “And Nails already said he accepted.”

"If he's from the Dream realm, he most likely speaks in nothing but lies," Breath said.

"Fae. That's Titania's, right? The scary ones?" Rian pulled on his seatbelt. “Who’s Nails?”

"They're all scary," Liesel said. "But for the love of all things fucked, don't act scared."

"Number one rule, I know," Rian said. "Who’s Nails?"

"Vassal of the Unnamed Sovereign of the Realm of Shadows." Liesel started the car and made her way into the Vegas traffic.

"Put on your seatbelt," Rian said.

Liesel grabbed hers and clicked it into place.

“Why’s he unnamed?” Rian said.

“Shadows. Secrets. Mysteries,” Liesel said.

“Unnamed Sovereign of the Realm of Shadows,” Rian repeated. “Shadow Realm. If you change it to Unnamed Sovereign of the Shadow Realm we could call him the USSR.”

Liesel gave Rian a long side glance.

“It’s shorter,” he said defensively.

“Respect, kid. Rule number two. Be very, very respectful.”

“If he was being respectful of my time he’d have a nickname.”

Breath gave a tinny chuckle. Liesel wondered if she’d ever heard that from him before.

[///]

“Get out the phone,” Liesel said. “I need your maps.”

She never used technology, and never had. It upset too many of the creatures she needed to interact it. Even now, Breath took his leave, going off to do whatever he filled the time with when he wasn’t around Liesel.

“Where are we going?” Rian pulled out his phone, tapping away at the screen to unlock it.

“Home Depot. Lowes. Something like that.”

“What are we getting?”

“Tools.”

“Great.”

Rian lifted the phone so Liesel could follow the little blue dot down the road.

In truth, Liesel wasn’t sure how much to involve him. Enough that he could, perhaps, give pointers to the next Champion in Liesel’s stead. Not so much that he was needlessly endangered. Not so much that he had to do or even see some of the things Liesel had to do. He was just a kid.

Two years older than Liesel had been, when Rick found her.

Just a kid.

“How do you feel about cultural appropriation?" Liesel asked him.

Rian looked up at her, puzzled.

"Cultural appropriation?"

“Yeah.”

“It’s… bad?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, Mom didn’t really teach me anything about, you know, our culture or whatever, so I guess it feels kind of weird when I see someone else enjoying Indian stuff who isn’t even Indian and I’m like, where do I fit in that, you know?”

"We're stealing some Native American relics."

“Aunt Li, that phrase doesn’t mean what you think it means. And also what the fuck.”

"Oh.” Liesel turned into the parking lot, scanning for a good spot. “Well, forget the cultural appropriation thing, then.”

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

“Aunt Li, you’re fucking lying to me, right?”

“Does Hanna let you swear?”

“Aunt Li, I’m not fucking around.”

"It's for the greater good."

Rian turned off the phone, pocketing it.

“Is this what Breath was talking about? Because he’s right, it’s a bad idea. It’s probably illegal too. It’s definitely illegal.” He paused. “Is it illegal?”

“Yes,” Breath said from the backseat. When Liesel glanced up at the rearview mirror, she saw a twisted version of Breath, a trick from Sassnid to make her friend even more nightmarish to behold. Liesel maintained eye contact long enough to prove she wasn’t jumpy, then looked back to Rian.

“You gotta pull up your big boy britches.” Even as Liesel said it, she heard Rick’s voice.

"I'm not even wearing regular pants," Rian said. "You didn't let me get dressed."

"Stay put.”

Quietly, Breath said, "This is a mistake, Liesel."

She refused to look in the mirror.

#

A string of curse words echoed off the rusty-hued rocks, settling into the ears of her nephew below.

"You okay, Aunt Li?"

"Shut up, kid." Liesel gripped the wall of rock that was sucking all the human heat from her fingertips. She spread her feet on the ladder to brace them on either side. "Did I-"

"Yeah, you dropped the chisel."

"Son of a-" Liesel bit off the rest of the phrase. "Breath, can you pass it up."

"I don't approve of what you're doing."

Liesel shot him a look over her shoulder. "Can you physically pick up a chisel and hand it to me?"

"I will not."

Liesel sighed, pressing her forehead to the rock in front of her.

They were in the Valley of Fire state park. Rian was on the ground, ensuring no humans wandered into their definitely illegal activities. Liesel was standing on a ladder precariously balanced on a boulder. Breath was being condescending. And probably correct, but as he said, she’d made her oath.

The drive should have only been about an hour and a half from the Strip, but between having to go to a different hardware store for chisels, Liesel getting lost, and Rian insisting he put on pants, it was nearly midnight despite leaving the motel at a crisp 8 PM.

Liesel had to finish before midnight.

She went down the ladder, grabbed the chisel, and climbed back up. Bracing herself once more, Liesel leaned forward and struck the butt of the chisel with her hammer very lightly. A rain of reddish dust fell to the sagebrush below.

For all the brusque bravado, Liesel felt terrible. There had been atrocities enough here without her adding to the long list of crimes. But what was one more wrongdoing on her list? A second execution?

A tablet of rock fell off the cliffside. Liesel dropped the chisel and hammer to catch it before it turned into a pile of rubble at the foot of the ladder. She flipped it over in her hands, the rock far heavier than it should have been. A petroglyph was carved into the face, a symbol surviving centuries of weather and white people. It wasn't recognizable as anything to her, but it didn't matter what Liesel thought of it.

Ignoring the guilt as easily as she ignored fear, Liesel climbed back down the ladder.

"Let's move," she growled.

Rian dutifully grabbed the chisel and hammer, then grappled with the ladder as Liesel made her way to the car, wrapping the slab of rock in one of her own precious flannels.

"Leave it."

"Littering? C'mon, Aunt Li," Rian said. "And I bet Titania doesn't like it either. Gifts or something. Fae doen't like that, right?"

Liesel stopped unlocking the car to look at Rian for a long moment.

"...okay, but I'm taking these." He hefted the tools and ran towards the car, where Breath was already folded up in the backseat.

Liesel opened the door to the driver's seat, then walked around the front of the car.

Rian paused where he stood, chisel and hammer still at his sides. "Uh."

"Drive."

"What?"

"Drive. C’mon, Hanna makes you drive, right?" Hanna was exactly like their mother, and their mother always made Hanna drive when she’d had too much to drink.

"...okay." Rian gingerly sat himself in the driver's seat, throwing the tools into Breath's lap where they fell through to the seat below. "Seatbelt."

Liesel pulled hers on, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't want to discourage good habits.

"Think you can get us going in a general easterly direction?"

"Where are we going exactly?" Rian was already pulling out his phone.

"Albuquerque," Liesel said. "New Mexico."

Rian frowned. "That sounds kinda far away, Aunt Li."

"Nine hours, if you go the straightest way," Liesel said absently.

"I'm gonna need a Red Bull or something. It’s, like, midnight.”

“Fuck. Just get us out of the park first. Fast as you can."

"I'm not gonna speed," Rian warned. He pressed on the gas pedal and they lurched forward violently. "Not on purpose, at least," he added, brow furrowing in concentration.

“Oh, you’re gonna fucking speed. Step on it.” She reached into the backseat, through Breath’s knees, and dug around for a roll of something that looked like tin-foil.

"Iron?" Breath asked.

"I can't promise it will work," Liesel said. "But it may help."

"What may help?" Rian asked, slowing to five miles an hour as he took a turn.

"Speed up, kid, I’m not fucking around. Iron foil."

"What does work mean?"

"Buy us time." Liesel opened the glove compartment. "Got any Sharpies in here?"

"It's red."

Liesel found it behind a stack of twinkies and charging cables. She nudged the glovebox closed with her knee and uncapped the Sharpie.

"What are you writing?" Rian slowed again as he looked down.

"Faster. I can tell when you slow down, fuckwad." He didn’t deserve the abuse, but it was like Liesel was channeling Rick the more she let the stress rise in her chest.

Rian grew quiet and focused on going as fast as he dared.

Liesel glanced up from her writing to look at the clock in the car. Her heart jumped for a moment until she remembered it was seven minutes ahead.

"She sleeps in sometimes, right?" Liesel said. She tossed the Sharpie back in the glovebox.

"Queen Titania is as punctual as you are morally ambivalent," Breath replied. Liesel looked at him in the side mirror.

"It’s for the world."

If Breath had eyes, they would be on the steel-covered slab in Liesel's lap. It was growing heavier by the minute.

"She's waking up," was all Breath would say.

"I know, I know," Liesel said. She wasn't afraid. She didn't sound afraid. She was just...

What was she? There weren't human names for it. After suppressing normal emotions, artificial ones rose up to fill the void. If she had to give this one a name, it would be semi-truck. Heavy but racing, always racing, ambiguous in destination, origin, and intent.

"What's going on? Exactly?" Rian asked again.

"We stole something from Titania in her territory." Liesel adjusted uncomfortably in her seat. She was sitting on something. She lifted up, balancing the rock on her knees as she pulled one of Rian's hats out from beneath her. Liesel shook it back into shape and reached over, setting it on top of Rian's cowlick. “And at midnight, in any given place, she reaches her maximum amount of power.”

“The invention of the clock was the death of her art,” Breath said mournfully.

“Well that’s a fucking riddle,” Liesel said.

They had two minutes. They were close. Rian was going as fast as Liesel would if she were driving.

"This portion ends at the gate, doesn't it?" Liesel asked. "Mortal boundaries aren't too inaccurate most of the time."

"I suppose we'll find out," Breath said evenly.

"Sometimes like you don't even care if I die," Liesel said.

Breath chuckled again. Twice in one day. He must be in a mood.

They came up to the gate. One minute and thirty seconds left, roughly. Pale greyish-green brush flew past. Rian wasn't a bad driver. Especially for someone inexperienced.

One minute. Liesel found herself slouching over the rock. The smell of Sharpie wasn't fading, even though the ink had dried. The petroglyph seemed to be sucking Liesel into itself, crushing her legs, slowing the car down–it wanted to be back there as much as Titania wanted it back.

Thirty seconds. They were going much faster than Liesel actually liked going around the curves. The semitruck inside her was tipping, one set of wheels just lifting off the ground in unbalanced chaos.

Then Liesel sat back. If they'd not gotten far enough now, they'd know. There was nothing else to be done. The petroglpyh was cutting into Liesel’s thighs and stomach, an almost unbearable weight, the edges sharp and biting.

"Albuquerque, right?" Rian said. His voice was shaky.

"No fear." Liesel's voice was harsh. She softened it a little. "Yeah. Just keep going." She tapped the rock, iron foil sounding like a soprano thunder-roll under her fingernail.

"What's it say? Who's it for? What... what is it?"

It was so heavy. "The note is a bunch of fancy titles and greetings. It's for… USSR."

"Oh, Liesel," Breath said. "This nearly went poorly. Bribing him will go poorly."

"It's not a bribe," Liesel said defensively. "You know that. It’s a gift."

Rian glanced at Liesel apprehensively. “I don’t really understand.”

"We’re flying blind, kid. Only one creature exists so comfortably in the dark.”

"Who told you this was a good idea?" Rian asked

Liesel looked at Rian sharply. "Who's been doing this for longer than you've been in America?"

"You, yeah, I know. It's just... it sounds like Breath's against it. And I'm kinda with him." Rian's eyes didn't leave the road. "I dunno, maybe the whole stealing-from-a-sacred-site thing has me on edge."

Liesel wanted to push the rock off her lap and into the floor, but wasn’t sure she even had the strength to do it. Her eyes watered pain from the pressure.

"It's your burden," Breath said, as though he could read her mind. Liesel looked at USSR’s hastily scrawled title on the iron foil. It had pressed down into the pictogram beneath, leaving just a faint imprint in the iron. Liesel ran her fingers over it.

"You're living on the edge now, kid."

On cue, the car rattled violently. They swerved into the rumble strips, Liesel’s hands flying to brace herself and Rian’s mouth opening but no scream coming out. He righted quickly righted them.

“What the fuck, what the fuck?!”

“Titania?” Liesel said uncertainly.

Breath leaned forward, head coming out of the roof slightly, what would have been his chin hovering just over Liesel’s shoulder.

“What are you doing, Liesel?”

“What was that?” Rian asked, more insistently.

“I don’t know.” Liesel looked in the wing mirror. Something was behind them, but her eyes couldn’t keep hold of it–they kept slipping off, like water meeting oil. “Go faster. Go fucking faster.”

“It’s getting kind of nasty,” Rian said.

The wind was rattling, and rain was spattering the filthy windows of the car. They were driving into a storm. Liesel felt a little relief settling over the semitruck inside her.

“Yeah, drive into that,” she said. “When the headlights start going out, we’re safe.”

“What the fuck does that mean.”

“Shadows. Dark,” Liesel said. The explanation clicked for Rian, and he fell silent again.

In the wind, Liesel heard voices. They chanted a language she didn’t understand, one she vaguely felt she wasn’t supposed to hear. Water and oil. It left her mind feeling slippery, although maybe that was the effect of her lifestyle choices. She glanced in the wing mirror again, but whatever had been following them was gone. For the first time, Liesel wondered if not feeling fear was enough.