“Rise and shine,” barked Valon.

Patience’s eyes peeled open. Valon was already dressed and currently pulling on his boots by the door. His neatly combed hair glistened in the lamplight. He had already bathed. The girl pushed aside the covers and rubbed the corners of her eyes. The window revealed the sun to have barely risen from its own bed on the horizon. Valon shot her a look, urging for haste.

Without exchanging any words, Patience wearily shuffled to clean her face and extremities at the washstand. She dressed and hurried to the restroom. Finally she stopped at her room to collect Anax.

“You waited for morning to put me on again?” asked Anax.

“I simply wished for space,” Patience said dismissively as she grabbed her bag, not wanting to keep Valon waiting.

In the elevator, Valon handed Patience a small bread roll. From where he got it, she did not ask. It seemed a proper meal would be delayed until Valon had the skull in his hands. Baked inside were chopped walnuts and dried cranberries. Patience wished he had another one to offer, but it sated her hunger for now.

Outside on the streets, New Amstel stirred awake. Dedicated merchants hurried to their storefronts, meeting yawning men with their morning supply deliveries. Nightguards exchanged shifts with their day counterparts. Street cleaners retired to their homes to wash away the night’s filth sticking to their clothes and skin. All the people needed to be at the behest of others wandered to their places. Anax watched the civilians they passed with mild interest as they traversed the city blocks. When they reached the kilns, the morning bustle was in full swing.

The exhilaration of an early day married the restlessness in Patience’s heart. Today would be their judgment. To her own amazement, Patience genuinely felt excited about the last half of their operation. She could not wait to put the final steps into motion.

She could not wait for it to be over.

Valon was also visibly on edge. As they waited to cross the street, his foot rapidly tapped the ground. Initially Patience thought it was another episode, but soon realized it was his impatience.

Anax, too. His eye skittered around the socket. But Patience knew he was not worried over his fate hinging upon the acquisition of this other skull. He was simply excited at the prospect of interacting with another yaszaha after so long.

The view of the brick buildings and chimney pipes could not come soon enough. The smokestacks in the distance speared a pale blue sky, the sun rising between them. Before entering Breheny and Sons’ reception room, Patience packed Anax into her carpetbag, turning him upside down. Valon was the first to burst inside.

The door to the warehouse was fully open. Patience spied men passing back and forth, attending to various tasks. A faint glow in the far back glimmered as workers fed more fuel into the kilns’ fires. The ruddy face of Bogart streaked past the door. He doubled back when he noticed Valon glaring in the doorway.

“Oh.” Bogart whipped his head over his shoulder. “Hey, Peralta! Load kiln number two! I have some clients to meet with,” he yelled. A holler responded in affirmation. Bogart held up a finger to ask Valon to wait one moment before he disappeared off to the side.

Valon grumbled, returning to wait by the counter.

After a while, Bogart entered the reception room with a large bundle wrapped in cloth under his arm. “There were a few … unforeseen elements I had to acquire to get the glaze to fire correctly. I needed to make an inconvenient trip out to meet your deadline.” He set the bundle on the counter.

Valon furrowed his brow. “Allow me a guess … witches.”

Bogart sniffed. “You’d be correct. They make some beautiful pottery I’ll have you know. But their special ingredients do come at a premium.”

Valon huffed and threw a few bills his way. Bogart seemed satisfied and carefully revealed the replica.

From afar it appeared an exact match. Patience stepped nearer, for she had seen and held the original. Upon more careful inspection, it was almost as good. The hue was close, just a shade darker. The luster was off, a tad duller than she had hoped. Patience picked it up between steady hands. The weight felt right, as did the texture. Underneath the replica were pinpricks in the glaze where a stand had held it up in the kiln. Nothing a bit of shoe wax could not gloss over.

Overall, the replica was good. Good enough to pass for the real thing. Since the skull had yet to be categorized, their hopes rested on the assumption that whoever received it did not log in the fine details and no discernible differences could be noted. This replica would do.

***

Another step completed. Patience’s heart raced all the way to the museum. She eyed her bag, picturing the replica nestled in the underside of Anax’s skull. If things went accordingly, it would soon be the real thing tucked into Anax. They made a quick stop to procure a small glob of wax from a street shoeshiner. Patience paid him three pennies.

At the base of the steps of the Manford Museum, Patience quickly rubbed the wax into the replica. Near perfection. She closed her bag and ascended the stairs with Valon.

On the other side of the large doors, Patience’s face brightened. The clerk from Wednesday occupied the same spot where Patience had first spoken with her. She casually strolled up to the counter, bag held tightly in her grip. Valon sat upon the same bench to wait.

“Excuse me. Hello again!” Patience simpered.

The clerk looked up momentarily confused before switching to a default state of hospitality. “Oh, hello again, Ms. Firmin. How may I assist you today?”

Patience cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to be such a bother, but could you be so kind as to allow me back into collection room C? I believe I misplaced a couple of my pencils.”

The clerk raised an eyebrow.

“Please! They were my father’s,” she fibbed.

A sympathetic look washed over the clerk’s face. She leaned over to retrieve the room’s key. “Of course.”

As their heels tapped down the tiled hallway, Patience’s heart intensified its drumming. She ignored the security guard, pushing him far away from her mind. Though she became very aware of the mounted animals she passed, feeling their watchful gaze examining her. The emptiness of the staircase felt oddly threatening. Her vision tunneled down the white hallway embossed with framed prints. The clerk unlocked the door and stood by the jamb.

“Um, they might have rolled under the cabinets. I may be a few minutes.” Patience laughed nervously.

“All right, just close the door behind you when you leave,” huffed the clerk. “Our taxonomist is scheduled to come in soon anyway.” She left.

Once the door clicked shut, Patience leapt to the cabinet, sliding the drawer open. The skull was still there. She opened her bag, lifting the replica out of its wrappings. Side by side in the dim light, they looked nearly identical. Patience carefully untied the tag from the real skull. The tips of her fingernails tuned through years of sewing negotiated the thin string loose. She laced the thread around the replica, tying a tight knot. In place of its twin, the replica went to rest between a scapula and humerus, its fate sealed with the shut of the drawer.

Suddenly the rattle of the door handle tore through the silent room. Patience threw her body down into a crouch, hugging her bag tight against her chest. Her back was to the door. She hoped her body was enough to hide the skull.

“Oh, pardon me, Miss!” said a voice.

Patience paled. Back held deathly still, her arms moved inch by inch to place the skull into her open bag.

“I’m sorry!” she squeaked. The skull nestled into the cloth lining the upturned Anax. Patience thanked the wrappings for muffling any sound. “I was looking for a couple of pencils I swear I misplaced here the other day!”

“Would you like my help?” offered the taxonomist from the door.

“I’m quite all right. Thank you very much, Sir.” Patience shifted her body ever so slightly to appear to be looking around the cabinet. With a deft movement, she clasped her bag shut, masking the sound by slamming her elbow down on the tiled floor. That smarted. She seethed between her teeth and twisted her head toward the voice.

The taxonomist stood perplexed by the door. He stroked his mutton chop beard as he peered down at a pocket watch. Patience feigned delight on her face as she quickly glanced to confirm her bag was closed.

“Ah! There they are!” she exclaimed, crawling toward the cabinet near the worktable. She reached her hand beneath the wooden repository. Two pencils emerged in her grasp.

“Very good,” said the man. Patience stood, flashing him more supplicating smiles as she stepped toward the egress. Just a few more feet to freedom.

“So very sorry if I inconvenienced you in any way, Sir.” She brushed past his tweed-clad shoulder. Her face stared at the wall of the hallway. She could feel the draft.

“Wait a moment.”

The girl froze in her tracks. Her heart stopped.

“Are you … Are you Antander’s daughter?”

Her heart beat again. Patience swiveled around. “Yessir. I am Patience Firmin.”

“A pleasure,” the taxonomist said, bowing slightly, “I am Edgar Bullens. On the few occasions that I’d met him, he always spoke at great length of his family. Once he mentioned how his daughter accidentally rubbed her burn raw from scratching a mosquito bite, and was having the worst time. He deeply wished to be with you instead of the oryx he was mounting. When Leland informed me of his death I felt such shame to not have made greater acquaintance with him. Truly, Antander was a fine man.”

Patience smiled sadly. Her eyes began to sting as she recalled that summer. She was six and threw a tantrum when her father left home. Her mother had to bake a whole cobbler to conciliate her. The memories quickly scattered aside as Patience thought of a quick recovery to be free of this room.

“Thank you, Mr. Bullens. I am glad to know my father’s memory can live on in the stories we share.” Patience curtseyed and excused herself. Mr. Bullens tipped his head again and bade her farewell.

Patience’s feet broke into a fast clip, but not so fast as to attract suspicion. She ascended the stairs on her tiptoes. The archway into the main hall sang to her. The guard was preoccupied, studying his fingernails. A chorus erupted in her mind once she came into the presence of the giant skeleton.

As she passed by the front desk, Patience held up her pencils and flashed the clerk a grin. She returned a smile under her glasses and refocused on her work. Patience held her breath across the final steps to Valon. Upon her approach, he casually rose to his feet and exited, holding open the heavy door for his partner in crime.

Patience could barely sense herself or her surroundings as she followed Valon across the street. All she could feel was the thundering of her heart. They did it. She had stolen from a museum. She whispered an apology to her father. But assuming he would have known this specimen was alive, surely he would champion for its release into the wild. She gritted her teeth. More likely than not, he would want it in a zoo to observe its behavior. She would want it released into the wild.

At last, blocks separated the pair from the museum. They stopped to rearrange Patience’s bag. Patience wrapped the new skull securely in the cloth wrappings and removed Anax to wear. Valon took possession of the bag.

“It is done,” breathed Patience.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Anax trilled.

Still they could not rest to talk, Valon was heading back to their hotel at a brisk pace. Patience could only imagine the state of the man’s mind. Everything he worked for these past few years would culminate in the next hour. Had he made off with her bag this instant with the new skull, Patience would not have cared. She had completed her end of the bargain. She was free. However, the promise of seeing another yaszaha was too great, and Patience loyally kept close behind Valon.

“What do you think she’ll be like?” asked Anax.

Patience raised her brows. “The new yaszaha? It is a she?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“The size and shape of her skull. Remember, I felt all around her,” he burbled.

“Must you put it like that?” Patience sighed as their hotel appeared at the end of the block.

Foregoing the elevator, Valon instead ran up the stairs with the agility of a man a third of his age. Patience wanted to test him and called the elevator. When she reached their floor, she caught Valon inserting the key to his room just as the elevator doors opened.

“Hurry up!” Valon ordered.

Patience tore down the hallway, her boot taps snapping through the air. She breathlessly met the man in his room and shut the door behind her. Anax locked it with a tendril.

Valon opened her bag atop the bed. He stripped away the cloth wrap to reveal their trophy. It glimmered in the light streaming through the window. Here it was. At last. They all held silent as Valon lifted the skull.

As imposing as Valon might be with a skeletal helm of his own, it did not fully fit over the man’s head. He wore it like a newsboy cap, which was made easier by the absence of the jaws. It had its boon this way; his handsome face was still visible, Patience thought. Valon winced, evidence of the mental link this skull was establishing. Confirming the connection, a familiar white mist began to billow out the back of the skeletal cap. They waited with bated breath for the new yaszaha to make herself known.

“Don’t even think about taking my soul!” Valon warned with his eyes shut.

Anax grumbled, “That’s not how it w—”

“MY! This mental block is like steel!” screeched a voice.

Patience held a hand to her mouth. Anax thrummed.

“Settle down, Creature!” barked Valon.

The higher voice gasped. “This is not how a life-donor is to behave!”

“Petulant beast! I’ll be dead before I give my body to you!”

“You will submit!”

Amid the squabbling, Anax formed his body and lifted Patience into the air, to which she still was not fully accustomed. He now stood nearly a head taller than Valon as he planted himself in front of the hunter. He held the man’s head between his claws and stared straight into the skull’s sockets. His one glowing orb met two of the other skull’s.

“Be still. We shall explain!” Anax hissed.

Upon seeing another of her own kind, Valon’s skull immediately quieted.

“She will listen now,” said Anax.

Silence befell the hotel room. The only sound came from the clock and Valon’s deep breaths. Anax continued to lock eyes with the other yaszaha.

“I’m Patience … this is Anax … he’s my partner …”

“I can’t recall ever seeing a yaszaha coexist with their donor’s will,” the cap remarked. “How curious!”

Patience continued, “The man you’ve linked with is Valon, though I’m sure you know that by now … and whom may I be addressing?”

“I am Iasis.”

Patience noticed Anax swaying. The excitement from seeing another of his species after so long coursed through his fog. Iasis’ gaze remained fastened on Anax.

“Don’t mind us if you skulls want to talk,” huffed Valon. He made himself comfortable and sat in the plush armchair by the window. Anax crouched and dissipated his body, allowing Patience to follow suit. She sat at the table.

“You found me in a museum collection?” Iasis asked, searching Valon’s mind.

“It’s a long story, but yes,” said Anax. “I myself fell into the hands of a collector. Luckily I was shipped to Patience here and she was foolish enough to put me on.”

Patience rolled her eyes.

“Do you remember your death?” asked Anax solemnly.

Iasis peered out the window. “I was protecting my younger siblings from a bear while our parents were out hunting. Needless to say, he got the better of me. As for my siblings, I am uncertain of their fate. I like to think my parents came back in time to save them.”

Anax grunted.

“I—I should like to see the outside, if I could, Valon?” Her plea was so sweet, but behind it was a tint of fear. Patience wondered if Valon was just that strong mentally. She would not put it past him. She felt slightly sorry for Iasis.

“We can go out later.” The hunter tented his fingers. “Iasis,” said Valon pointedly, “I am willing to be your life-donor for as long as I’m able. But how long I am able is unclear. I am suffering from an illness.”

“Can you heal him?” asked Patience.

Iasis remained silent for a minute, undoubtedly still overwhelmed by her new surroundings and onslaught of information. Her eyes darted to Anax’s, seeking reassurance from a kinsman.

“Take your time, but we need to know,” Anax said.

“Fancy that … I gain my second-life and immediately I must save my donor, and I don’t even have full control …”

“Can you heal me or not?” Valon growled.

“It seems I’ve no choice but to coexist with this one,” she repined. Her eyes rolled down to Valon’s arms. “I will see what I can do, but it might take some time before I can give you a sufficient answer.”

Her voice when not irritated was soft and fleeting, similar to a summer’s breeze. Patience wondered what Anax’s voice sounded like when not directly emanating from around her head.

“How long?” asked Valon.

“I will know in the morning,” said Iasis. Her mist puffed around Valon’s neck. Caught in the light, thin strands of vapor trailed up Valon’s nostrils.

The souls in the room fell into an uneasy peace. Valon sat in the armchair, staring out the window. Patience swore she could feel Anax practically humming. Little crackles of sound bit at her ears. He was eager to say something.

“C-can you talk while you evaluate?” Anax asked.

“Don’t disturb her!” snapped Valon.

Iasis seemed to enter a trance. Her eyes held still in their sockets. Patience was slightly unsettled seeing them frozen when she was used to Anax’s being so lively. The white orbs jerked backward as Valon threw his head into the armchair. A long sigh escaped him.

“Patience,” Valon said.

“Y-yes?”

“Go out. Enjoy yourself. I can handle things here,” he mumbled while stroking his chin with a heavy hand.

“I …” She glanced out the window. “I would like to buy food for us. We haven’t eaten much today.”

“If you wish,” breathed Valon. His eyes glowed like melting ice in the light.

Patience nodded to herself. She still wanted to help the hunter, even though he had no more use for her. She collected her carpetbag and left.

Venturing through the streets unaccompanied was intimidating. While Anax was a nice reassurance, the girl stuck to the blocks close to the hotel. It was too easy to get lost in this city. Eventually she found a shop where she bought a large order of fried cod and vegetable slaw. The straight shot back to the hotel kept the food from getting too cold.

When she returned to Valon’s room, she found the hunter seated at the table. His shoulders were slack and he appeared to be comfortable. Iasis’ orbs stayed deathly still in their sockets as if they were painted onto the empty space. The man held a steaming mug to his mouth, another rested by his elbow. He must have ordered them from the hotel’s service phone in the hallway. Valon nodded her over. Patience spread the meal before them. He slid over the other mug. It was filled with hot tea. She smiled and thanked him.

While the greatest task had been accomplished, there now hung a heavier anticipation. At this point, with everything hanging on Iasis’ answer, the last thing Patience wanted was to step on Valon’s toes. This meant the world to Valon and she disturbed him as little as possible.

Even Anax restrained his quips. As Iasis was unavailable to chat, he resolved to simply observe their confines. Despite having Iasis in his company now, Valon remained a threat. Anax thought it wise not to cross him.

The silence badgered the room. As they ate, Patience noticed Valon’s mood gradually souring. His jaw aggressively ground his food in slow, brooding motions. His brows drew down toward his nose, nostrils flaring. His hands curled into fists. The girl’s heart began thumping, predicting an outburst.

After they repacked the remainder of the meal to save for supper, Patience wondered if she should leave Valon alone. Once she finished washing at the stand, she moved to the door. The shriek of a chair sent a shock through her veins.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Patience turned to lock eyes with Valon now standing over the table. “I thought … I thought you wouldn’t want me around anymore.”

“Stay.”

A brush of red feathered over her nose. Patience nodded. A small hiss passed over the nape of her neck. But that was all. Anax still held his proverbial tongue in Valon’s presence. Patience briefly delighted in his abeyance before shifting her focus to the bed. If she were to stay, she would require more comfortable seating arrangements. The plush armchair was Valon’s alone, she resolved.

“M-may I sit there?” she asked, peering down at her clothes.

“Go ahead. The bed hasn’t been turned down yet.”

Patience obliged, removing her shoes. She sat with her legs crossed atop the coverlet. Valon returned to the armchair once again. For a moment, they held each other’s gaze under their skeletal helms. But Patience could not bring herself to stare too long at the glowing still orbs of Iasis.

The rest of the day, Valon intermittently questioned Anax about the nature of his species, everything Patience had already learned. She could tell he was genuinely curious now that he had his own partner. Some youth returned to his face as his frown slackened, his eyes widened, and his brow unfurrowed. She smiled to herself. It was nice to hear civil conversation between the two.

As night closed over the city and crept into the room, Valon stepped out to order another round of tea for them. Iasis had not changed while evaluating Valon’s condition on some other plane of existence.

“Is her inactivity normal?” Patience asked.

“Think of it as you concentrating particularly hard on something. Some individuals can accomplish multiple tasks at once. Others must focus all their attention and shut out the rest of the world.”

“And I assume you are the former?”

“Correct,” clucked Anax. “It is not uncommon for younger ones like Iasis to be dead focused.”

Although it was difficult to imagine Valon fearing anything, Patience thought Anax’s presence was a considerable reassurance for the man. To be so close to one’s answer and only have it delayed another day could drive anyone mad. Patience could sympathize. Waiting on something as tremendous as a cure was better spent with company. With Iasis unresponsive, the guidance Anax had been giving was invaluable to rest any immediate qualms Valon might have had.

When the hunter returned from the hall, Patience could not help but feel a small swell of pride. In the whole world, she was uniquely suited to see Valon through this. If he wanted her there, then she would honor his wish. And still there was the benefit of not being alone with Anax.

Their tea arrived after a short while, and they had their supper. Valon continued to form questions, this time directed at Patience mostly. He asked her how she adjusted to life with Anax and what they had done up to the point of their introduction outside the Salted Strop. Anax would interject on occasion, but he behaved.

A knock interrupted their conversation. As Valon opened the door, the maid jumped a little in her shoes upon seeing them with their skeletal adornments, but regained her composure. She had come to pick up after them and turn down the bed. Patience and Valon took the opportunity to visit the restrooms to wash for the evening.

At the end of the hall, before they split off to the men’s and women’s restrooms respectively, Valon grabbed Patience’s arm. “You’re coming back to my room when you’re ready for bed.”

His watery blue eyes revealed it to be more of a request than a command. Regardless, Patience flushed and nodded.

“What is it about him tonight?” rumbled Anax as Patience brushed her teeth.

She spat into the sink. “He simply needs company right now. I believe it’s incredibly lonely, waiting on such important news.”

In the mirror, Patience watched Anax’s orb roll up into its socket.

“You answer his questions about your kind, I’m there for him to know this partnership won’t turn him into some abomination.”

“Unlikely. Don’t tell me I will have to bear watching you lay with him.”

“Of course not!” Patience balked. She wiped her mouth. A ghost of a smirk crossed her lips. As much as she would like Anax to witness how Valon handled her, to couple in the presence of Iasis seemed all too obscene.

Finished in the bathroom, Patience trotted down the hall to briefly stop at her room. She changed into her nightgown. The wide neck hole brushed her clavicles. Patience traced a few fingers along the collar, feeling her soft skin at the edge. She stopped at her sternum, imagining Valon ripping the hole wider to access her breasts. Her breath shuddered. Tarrying no longer, she stole away next door.

Patience knocked.

“It’s unlocked,” called Valon.

Thoughts of her first night spent with Valon crossed her mind before the door revealed a much different scene lit by a sconce next to the headboard. The man was in bed, cover pulled up to his bare chest. His supine form relaxed into the mattress. His head cradled in pillows. The bedspread pulled back to expose the empty spot next to his body.

Patience locked the door behind her and crept into the open space beside him. He lay still, his head pointed underneath Iasis’ snout toward them. Patience attempted to read his face between stolen glances as she arranged the pillows on her side to rest Anax comfortably. To her surprise, he spread the cover over her shoulder with a sweep of his arm once she was situated.

Valon then tugged at the sconce pull, extinguishing its light. Only the faint glow emanating from the window and three orbs shone in the room. The shuffling of fabric broke the silence. Limited in movement from Anax, Patience nestled into the sheets as best she could.

Eventually she found herself lying in much the same position as Valon. Anax kept her from snuggling too close to the man. She imagined this delighted the skull. Patience heaved a sigh, her breath dissipating into shadows. Like two bodies resting in a grave, she and Valon cast their gaze to the darkness above them.

“Good night,” Valon murmured.

Hidden in the dimness, Patience’s face softened. He had resolved to sleep early, to expedite the wait. “Good night,” Patience returned.

In the heat under the covers, she reached a hand out to the man. She brushed her fingers to his thigh, feeling the silk of his pants. His hand entwined with hers. Together, they slept to wait for the new day to come.