“Am I imagining this?” Bee asked, approaching the help desk with awkward, wavering steps. “Or are you real?”

“I feel pretty real,” Will said, still smiling. “I think True Bond is letting us share our dreams.” He patted the books on the counter. “Have you decided where you want to put these?”

“Strength, I guess?” She put her hand on Will’s. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

“Maybe you should save them. You get your specialization next level, so you could put them into your advanced attribute then. We should go over the specializations soon, see which one you want. I thought we’d have more time, but you’ve been leveling up so fast…”

Bee blinked hard, and her grip on Will tightened. “I don’t want to talk about points right now. Do you remember what happened?”

“I think I got hurt,” Will said absently, looking through her more than at her. “Why, is it bad?”

“It’s pretty bad. We haven’t been able to move you.”

“Potions aren’t working?”

Bee shook her head. “Not so much.”

Will thought about it. Then his gaze drifted, and he stood staring off into nothing, mouth hanging slightly agape.

“Will?” Bee asked, swallowing a hard lump of worry. “Can you hear me?”

His eyes snapped back onto her. “Hmm? Sorry, what were we talking about?”

“I said the potions aren’t fixing you. There’s infection. It’s bad.”

Will didn’t look particularly alarmed by this information. “In that case, Mongrel should go get his runaway bride back. She should be able to—”

“We thought of that too. He isn’t back yet.”

“Then there isn’t anything else you can do.”

Bee hopped over the counter, landed on the other side, and gathered Will in a tight hug. She buried her head into his chest, taking in his smell. Even in the dream, he reeked of cigarettes.

“Promise me you won’t die,” she murmured.

“I won’t die,” he spoke softly. “I never lose, remember?”

“I remember.”

He stiffened against her. Bee took a step back and found him with that thousand-yard stare again—shoulders slumped, arms hanging limp.

“Will, what can I—”

He vanished, leaving behind only empty air.

Bee turned in circles, but he was nowhere to be seen. No sign that he had even been there to begin with.

That can’t be good.

Bee closed her eyes and willed herself out of the library. She needed to wake up. There had to be something she could do to help him.

There had to be.

*****

Bee came to slumped over Will’s chest, where she had dozed off. Light rain pattered against the tarp overhead. Will lay on top of two bedrolls pushed together.

Despite the three blankets he was under, he shook badly. Almost convulsing. His eyes moved beneath their lids. His breathing was rapid and shallow.

Bee felt his forehead. Cold as a corpse. He had stopped sweating, and his skin had an odd, waxy stiffness to it.

He didn’t have long left. His presence was barely a spark in the back of her mind.

She called for Number Three, and the ape soon came waddling over, his fur slicked-down with the damp. Looking between the two of them, he wore an anxious expression.

“Is Mongrel on his way back with the demon?” she asked.

He nodded.

Good.

“How long?”

Number Three closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. He tried to tell Bee something in sign language, but when she didn’t understand, he just held up five fingers.

“Five. Five hours?”

A nod. Then he held up six fingers and shrugged.

“Five or six?”

A nod again.

“Jesus…”

There was no way he had that long.

“Three,” she said in a tight voice, swallowing a wave of bitter bile. “Please tell them to go faster. Anything they can do.”

Number Three looked uncertainly at her, like he didn’t think her request was possible but didn’t want to contradict her either. He closed his eyes to relay her message.

Bee hiked down Will’s blankets to his waist and raised up his tunic to inspect the wound. The bandages were stained a disconcerting off-yellow. As soon as she lifted the sticky fabric, a cloying stench of rot wafted from the gaping hole.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She’d have to carry him somehow, meet Mongrel and the others halfway. It felt like a bad plan, but what choice did she have?

Bee got up to make the preparations. She thought that dragging him would work better than carrying, and decided to convert one of the bedrolls into a sort of improvised sled.

She had begun putting holes in the thin quilt to thread a rope through when a voice called out.

“Having trouble?”

Bee stood up and whipped around, but didn’t see anyone. Just wet forest and the chimp, who looked as confused as she felt.

“Ahem.”

The voice came from above. Bee craned her neck, and found a woman hanging from a bough overhead. Or, more accurately standing on the branch, except upside-down, like gravity was flipped for her.

The woman was lightly dressed despite the weather, wearing a vest and roomy three-quarters trousers that hugged her calves. She had a dark tan and dirty blonde hair, a straw hat dangling from a strap around her chin. She wore a pair of wooden clogs on her feet, painted with quaint floral patterns.

“He doesn’t look so good,” she said, nodding towards Will.

“Who are you?” Bee asked, not sure whether to go for a weapon or beg for help. She decided on the latter. “Can you help him? I think he’s dying.”

The woman took a step off the branch and fell. She tumbled deftly in mid-air and landed on her feet, adjusting the hat back on her head as she wandered over. She knelt down next to Will and threw back his blankets. Fifteen AP crystals glinted on her arm, half of them dark. She was a Jeweler.

“I’m Pigeon,” the woman said, squinting up at Bee. “And yes, I should be able to fix him. On one condition.”

“Yes. Anything.”

“Don’t ask any questions.”

Bee had opened her mouth to ask why when she caught herself. “Okay.”

“Good.” Pigeon swiveled on her heels, looking back at Number Three. “What’s with the chimp?”

“He’s a familiar.”

“Uh-huh. Take him and go for a walk or something. I’ll let you know when you can come back.”

Again, Bee struggled to bite back her questions. Aside from the fact that they were supposed to be working with her, she had no idea if Pigeon was trustworthy.

But she didn’t have any other choice except to trust her.

Bee took Number Three by the hand and led him out of the camp. Glancing back, she saw Pigeon leaned over Will’s shaking body, a soft glow rising about them.

*****

Mongrel sent Nix ahead since she could move much faster than him and Oatmeal. There wasn’t much he could do except trudge on and hope she’d get there in time.

When he rushed into camp, wet and exhausted, he went over to the shelter… and found Will sitting there, blankets about him, drinking a cup of tea. He looked up at Mongrel with what was definitely, unless he was hallucinating, two eyes. Bee was by his side, an arm wrapped protectively around his lower back.

He looked a bit pale, drawn, and tired, but not much worse than usual.

“She did it?” Mongrel asked, a profound relief washing over him. “We’re good?”

“We got a little help,” Bee replied, nodding to something over Mongrel’s shoulder. “Uh, this is Pigeon.”

Mongrel turned and started when he found a woman standing right there. He hadn’t heard her coming up at all.

“I’m afraid the demon would have been too late,” she said. “Lucky I found you. I did my best with your friend. Ironic, Deathbed on his deathbed.”

“But he’ll live?”

“He should. Purged the infection, mended his intestines.”

“And you brought his eye back, too?”

Pigeon shrugged. “Figured I might as well while I was at it.”

The Jeweler had a reputation for being a damn good scout, but he hadn’t known that she was a healer, too.

I guess you would want to know some healing if you’re out in the Bushland all the time, days away from civilization.

Either way, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“So you’re fine?” Mongrel asked, turning back to Will.

“More like ‘not dying’, but comparatively I’m doing great,” he replied, wincing as he attempted to sit up straighter.

Mongrel grinned. “That is fucking excellent, brother. I knew you were too stubborn to shuffle off. But what about Nix, where’s she?” He didn’t see her around the camp.

“I think she went to find something to eat,” Bee said. “We’re running low on supplies since the damp got into the hardtack.”

“Oh, all right. Then, since no one’s dying anymore, mind if I go check on her?”

Bee pointed him in the direction the demon had left in, and he set out that way into the woods.

It didn’t take long before he found her, in the process of snapping a rabbit’s neck. She had put on some clothes, her black hair tied back from her face in a bun. She had two more rabbits hanging from her belt.

“Everything turned out all right, I guess,” he said.

The rabbit gave its last few kicks before going still, and Nix stood up with a sigh. “Yes. No thanks to me, but yes.”

“You sound kind of bummed about it.”

Nix looked back at him with a sad little smile. “No, it’s not that. I’m… glad your friend is all right.”

“Okay, so why the long face?”

“Matthew, I know you said what you needed to say to help your friend. I don’t fault you for that. And I was happy to have the illusion for a little while. But now it’s done.”

Mongrel laughed. “That’s what this is? Ma’am—respectfully, you need to cultivate some self-esteem.” He held out his hand to her. After a brief hesitation, she slipped her fingers into his palm. “Since you already found dinner, we might as well take it easy for a while.”

Nix studied his face for a long while. “No matter how hard I try, I won’t ever be human.”

“I know. That doesn't have to be a bad thing.” Mongrel sat down in the wet moss and pulled the demon down to join him. He intertwined his fingers with hers, and put his other hand on top. “I like how warm you are. It’s comforting.”

Nix leaned in and let her head rest on his chest. “What you said about your son… Was that true?”

“Yep.”

“And you haven’t told anyone else about that?”

“Nope.”

Even though he couldn’t see her face, Mongrel could sense a smug aura coming off of her.

“What about his mother?” she asked.

“What about her?”

“What was she like?”

“Oh.” Mongrel searched his foggy memories. “Shit, that was a long time ago. She was, uh… She was a pain in the ass. Like, seriously annoying.”

“What did she look like?”

“She was a redhead, I think. Nice tits, but no ass. Glasses. Uh… that’s all I got. Sorry.”

“Is that your type?”

“You know, honestly I’m not that picky.” He cleared his throat. “But of course, my type would be mortally terrifying demon women.”

She squeezed his hand tighter until it hurt. He gave her a pat, and she eased up a bit.

“What about you?” Mongrel asked. “Got any evil demon exes I should be worried about?”

“Not really. I was in love with a human once before.”

“For real?”

“Yes. But he died. It was a very long time ago.”

“Shit, sorry to hear that. Actually, I’m happy to be the replacement, so I guess I’m only a little sorry.”

They sat together for a while. It stopped raining, which was nice. The afternoon sun even peeked out from behind the cloud cover.

“Matthew,” Nix said. “Are you sure it's all right? Contracting with me?”

Mongrel closed his eyes and took a sharp intake of breath. Despite being cold and tired and wet, he felt pretty good about himself.

“Why not?” he said.

“Thank you.” She curled up tighter against him, and he felt a wiggly tentacle wrap around the back of his neck.