Taiga rushed to Sara’s side and wrapped her arms around her.

“Is it the wings? Are they too spicy?”

Sara shook her head and burrowed into Taiga’s chest. “They’re delicious.”

“Okay,” said Taiga. “Is it the octopus?”

“The takoyaki is also brilliant.”

“Then… the noodles? Are they… expensive? I don’t know. You’re not giving me much to work with here.”

Sara untangled herself from Taiga and squeezed out a laugh. “It's alright, I just realized I’m not hungry,” she said. But that wasn't true. The illness was back. She could feel it clawing the insides of her stomach. She felt close to vomiting and didn’t want to do it here, or anywhere near Taiga, so she asked, “Can we go?”

“Of course,” said Taiga. “I was going to suggest the same thing. It’s gotten cold without the sun.” She fished out a few gold coins from her pockets and scattered them on the table.

“Sorry I ruined our lunch,” Sara said miserably as she followed Taiga out towards the main road.

“Don’t worry about it,” Taiga replied. “I’m not very hungry either.”

Before they made their way out into the streets, Taiga bought a dozen red bean cakes and two boxes of sliced meat from the vendors.

“Party of six tonight,” she told Sara.

“But you have four kids.”

“Yes, and there’s two of us.” Her smile warmed Sara more than the sun ever could.

Out in the sunlight, traffic and pedestrians resumed without pause. It was as if Sara had just spent the last hour tucked away in a sliver of time.

Sitting on the side of the road, the bot-bellied beggar turned towards them. “Change for a creature?” he asked, holding out his hands again.

Taiga started going around but the man stood and placed himself right in her path.

“Change for a very sad creature? From a fellow creature?”

This time, Taiga snapped at him. “Cut it out. The time you spend pestering me should be used looking for work.”

The man’s face sank like a lowering curtain. Huge eyes slid from under thick eyebrows.

“Easy for you, halfy. For real creature? No.”

Taiga’s whole demeanor changed. The furs on her ears and tail stood up. She pushed her food into Sara arms and stomped up to the man.

“Say that again,” she told him, “and I’ll change the bone structure of your stupid face.”

The man shrugged his four shoulders, then swiped two hands across Taiga’s face. The girl flew back, crashing through the door of a passing cart.

Sara barely turned back before the beggar barreled into her, grabbing at the food she was holding.

“Hey!”

The bags slipped out of Sara’s arms, spilling their contents all over the ground.

The beggar didn’t hesitate. He fell to his knees and swooped up as many cakes as he could carry before fleeing.

Stunned, Sara could only watch as the beggar shoved past onlookers down the sidewalk.

“What was that?” Jack asked from his sack. “What’s happening?”

Sara set down the bags and went to pull Taiga out of the cart. The girl was dazed, but the moment her feet touched the ground she raced to pick up her dropped food, snarling at anyone who was about to step on one.

“Are you hurt?” Sara asked as she helped.

Taiga shook her head angrily. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When we got to the city, I promised them we would live like normal people.”

Sara felt sorry for Taiga. She hadn’t been friends with the girl long enough to know how or why she was stuck with taking care of four small kids, but there was no doubt how much of a struggle it was. She handed over the last of the bean cakes. “Hold onto them,” she said, then turned towards the fleeing beggar.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“Thanks,” Taiga said, her expression turning from gratitude to confusion as Sara dropped into a sprinting stance. “What are you-”

Sara exploded off the concrete, shooting down the sidewalk in a blur. People and obstacles appeared like they were frozen in time, including the beggar.

The four-armed man had made it three blocks. His back was to her, a bean cake falling from his grasp.

Sara leaped, grabbed the back of the man’s head, and slammed him to the ground.

Fist-sized chunks of concrete pinged off the walls. People screamed as hurricanes battered through the street, tossing hats and clothing high into the sky.

Breathing hard, Sara stood. She pulled the beggar out of the crater and dropped him. He flopped bonelessly, perhaps unconscious, perhaps dead. Either way, Sara didn’t much care. Her blood was pumping and her muscles buzzed in a way that made her want to do more.

Hurt more. Hunt more.

It was an incredible feeling, one that held back all the sickness inside her, until logic caught up. Sara checked on the man. His entire face now existed in a single dimension, but he was still breathing.

Taiga pushed her way through the crowd, gasping when she saw the scene in front of her.

“What in the sweet goddess’s name did you do?”

Sara stepped away from the man, as if that little distance could somehow separate herself from her crimes. “I got your stuff back.”

“By killing him?”

“He’s not dead. Yet.”

Taiga stepped around the dropped cakes and grabbed Sara’s wrist. “We need to get you out of here.”

Around them, people were beginning to gather, the initial fear lessening into morbid curiosity. Sara tried not to look at anyone as Taiga pulled her down a different alleyway, then onto another street.

“King Rychard’s Right Hand has come back this morning,” Taiga said. “I don’t know who she is, but remember the skulls on the wall outside? She did those.”

Taiga dragged Sara across three streets before stopping outside a thin house wedged between two brick buildings, down an alleyway so narrow they had to walk single file.

Pulling out a key tucked under her shirt, Taiga explained this house belonged to someone called Gweyn.

“If you don’t mind the smell of sewage and the noise of street cats fighting every night, then it’s not a bad place to live,” she said, swinging the door open.

“Can you understand them?” Sara asked.

Taiga turned around, her eyebrows arched as if to say, Really?

Inside the kitchen-living room, Sara sat at the table as she watched Taiga place things into a cooler by the back door. The lighting was depressingly dim. Only a single glowing orb, hanging from above the dining table, illuminated the windowless house.

Once she was done, Taiga came over and sat facing Sara. Then, lacing her fingers together under her chin, she looked Sara in the eye and asked, “Are you Yuzuru’s little sister?”

Sara almost choked. “What?”

“It’s okay. We were traveling together. He talked about you.” She shrugged. "Not a lot, but enough so that I know what you looked like."

A million questions came to mind then. The implications behind the question were enormous. Sara kept her gaze locked onto the scratch marks on the table as she gathered her racing thoughts.

“Is he… is my brother here?”

“The last time I saw him was two weeks ago,” Taiga said. “He went with Gweyn on a separate journey. They were supposed to meet me in Bronzehaven. I’m still waiting.”

“So it really happened,” Sara whispered. “He’s… in this world.”

Taiga got up and went to the sink. “Want some tea? I think I saw a jar of leaves somewhere.”

Sara didn’t know what to think. She hated the idea that Yuzuru was suffering too, but couldn’t help feeling joyful that she might see him again.

But then there was the nagging dread that he would be different, that like Sara, he too would have killed people to survive.

Her mind conjured up memories of Jamie and Tom Stryde, the princes of Cold Castle who both at one point put their hopes of survival in her, only to end up dead because of what she did.

Sara pressed her fists into her eyes. She didn’t want to recall these terrible events. She wanted to escape. She wanted someone to come and get her out of here.

There was a knock at the door.

She looked up, thinking it was Taiga, but the girl was just coming out of the kitchen, a half-filled teapot in her hands.

There was a beat of stillness as the two girls looked at each other.

“I thought you said this was a safehouse.”

“Yea,” said Taiga. “I did too.”

The knock came again. This time, a woman’s voice followed.

“By order of the King’s Right Hand, open this door immediately.”

Sara felt a sudden vibration against her thigh. She reached down and touched the bag holding Jack, feeling him quiver.

Taiga didn’t move. She seemed to have frozen. Only her ears twitched.

Once more the woman outside knocked.

“I know the traveler in there.”

Taiga’s shoulders dropped only slightly. She put down the teapot and marched over to the door. As she passed Sara, she reached out and squeezed her arm. “I’ll explain the situation.”

As soon as Taiga had her back turned, Sara heard Jack say, “You must leave, kid. Now.”

Sara had never heard such fear in her once-captor’s voice before, and it terrified her. Grabbing the bag she started to get up, but the door opened and a voice ran out,

“It’s rude to leave when a guest is just arriving.”

She froze.

“Especially when that guest is here specifically to see you.”

The girl who stood at the entrance was half a foot taller than Taiga, which meant she was looking over the cat girl’s head at Sara.

It was too late. There was nowhere to hide.

Taiga cleared her throat. “Lady Right Hand, to what pleasure do I owe?”

The masked girl indicated her reply with a tilt of her head. “There was an attempted murder near Traveler’s Street. I heard the culprit is around here.”

Taiga laughed awkwardly and stood aside to let the masked girl through. “We don’t know anything about that.”

“Sure,” said the masked girl. She was slim, though it was hard to tell by the traditional miko gown she wore. The robes shined with all the bells and whistles and pared with the mask, she looked like she jumped straight out of a movie.

And then it clicked. Sara blurted, “You’re a traveler. Aren’t you?”

The masked girl turned to her. “My, you are as clever as ever, Sara.” She came over to the table and pulled out the chair. She sat, raising a dainty hand out for Sara to do the same. “Come. There is so much we need to talk about.”