Nuance is an annoying thing, even if it is necessary.

Today it taught me that while I was not afraid of heights, I was clearly afraid of sudden changes in elevation at very high speeds. I screamed high enough to crack glass as Monaco and I shot up towards the roof of the building, not stopping until she grabbed the ledge and heaved us both over it and onto the rooftop.

“Knock it off. It wasn’t that bad.” Monaco said as she yanked the hook free of its mooring. With a flick of her wrist, she snapped the hook shut, sliding the talon-like protrusions back into place in their metal “head”. When the head was closed, it fit snugly back into the gauntlet, ready to be fired again.

I stood up and dusted myself off. “Says you. Maybe jumping across rooftops is standard procedure for you, but we usually charge hazard pay in my profession for that kind of stuff.” I chanced a glance over the side of the building. We were now three stories up, there were a few angry looking Swords on the street below, and as far as I could tell, they had no way to get up to us. Yet.

There were a few adjacent buildings of equal height, although of different aesthetics. While the building Monaco and I were on wasn’t fancy or decadent, it was built in a far more modern style that didn’t have the frills of typical Kierhaian culture. It was a rundown tenement building with no roof access. The building across from where I’d looked down had a stairwell shed on the far side, and a much more traditional look with sloping edges and shingles. If the Swords realize they can climb one of the other buildings they could get up here. We have maybe a few minutes.

“Kuro what the hell happened?” Monaco said as she took in a deep breath. “One moment that fox was on your shoulder, the next it was gone. Then it just appeared behind the thugs and started laying into them. Is there something you’re not telling me?” Her voice was heavy with suspicion.

“Uhhh about that. It’s a reaaaaaally long story and we don’t have time to get into it now.” The last thing I need is to explain to Monaco that I have a six hundred year old sorceress living rent free in my head who tells me what to do. Nor do I want to tell her about Deotra. “We can get into it once we make it back to Alverd. But you’re gonna have to tell him that you’re on our team and promise him that you’ll behave.”

I was expecting her to be sly or facetious in her reply but instead she was all business. “Fine. You’re right. We should focus on getting back to the Wolf’s Clearing. But you better vouch for me. I have a feeling your friends might want to attack me on sight if we go straight back to them.”

That’s gonna be a real hard sell. After the shit you pulled, it’s gonna take more than an apology and my good word to set things right. But we can deal with that when we get to safety. “Alright. So how do we get back to the Wolf’s Clearing alive?” As I asked my question, the door to the stairwell on the adjacent building and three thugs stepped out of it.

Monaco wasn’t called the Swift for nothing. There was a sound like an exhalation of breath behind me, and then a small metal object like a long nail shot past my left ear. One of the thugs on the other rooftop clutched at his neck as blood spurted from the new hole that had been bored into it. The other two raised crossbows and fired.

Moving with incredible speed, she slid her arm around my chest and yanked me aside, causing the bolts to go sailing through empty air. Adrenaline flooded my veins as she pulled me toward the far side of the roof. Wait wait wait there’s nothing to grab onto and the other roof is too far what are you doi-

Ten long seconds passed as she hauled me towards the ledge, pumping her long legs furiously and dragging me along for the ride. There was no way in hell we’d make the jump. Even if we did, the building was traditional Kierhaian and had a slanted roof with shingles, making the prospect of a solid landing nearly impossible. Still, she hooked her arm under my shoulder and held tight. Oh gods oh gods I’m going to die I’m going to die I don’t want to die like this oh gooooooooods!

Behind me, I heard the sound of the crossbows firing, the whistling of bolts in flight. Monaco and I stepped onto the lip of the roof and jumped off, or rather she jumped off and carried me with her. Screaming, I looked down and saw the ground thirty feet below, dirt and stone that would likely crack my skull open like an egg.

Then we were falling. Monaco aimed her free arm forward and the grappling hook fired out of her sleeve gauntlet, arcing toward the rooftop on the far end. The hook overshot the edge of the roof, but as we accelerated toward the ground she twisted her fingers and the rope yanked back into her gauntlet.

The hook, now being pulled back towards its owner, snagged on an ornamental fish statue on the canted roof. We were no longer falling, but now we were swinging straight toward a very solid wall. I braced myself, pulling my legs in toward my chest as best as I could. When I hit the wall, however, I felt something crack in my left elbow and I let out a cry of pain. Monaco barely made a sound, but only a second after our impact she was using her hook to pull us up.

When we got to the rooftop, though, she didn’t pull me over immediately. She let out a pained grunt of exertion and threw me up onto the roof, and I landed on my elbow. I rolled around, screaming through my clenched teeth. If it’s not broken then it’s definitely fractured. This day just gets better and better. When Monaco finally made it onto the roof, she proved that it could indeed actually get much worse.

She had two crossbow bolts sticking out of her, one buried in her right thigh and one that had gone far enough through her shoulder that the bloodied metal head was sticking out of it. Her eyes were wide and frenzied, and already her clothes were darkening with bloodstains. Godsdammit. I didn’t even open my mouth to put my foot in it yet and I can already taste leather. She lay there, panting furiously, no doubt in far more pain than me.

On the ground below, three of the Swords who had failed to catch us were now circling below like sharks. With my right hand I pulled Monaco’s wand out of my pocket and waved it. This thing doesn’t have much juice in it. Best I can do is some rudimentary elemancy, but if I don’t do something we’re sitting ducks. Manipulating the power of wind, I yanked a few shingles loose from the roof and started pelting the Swords below with them.

Aiming was hard given my position and the pain interfering with my concentration. Some of the Swords had crossbows, which were already being aimed when the shingles flew at them. I hit one directly in the head before he could fire, and he staggered, but it wasn’t enough to knock him out. A bolt whizzed past me and I retaliated with a shot that missed the attacker by a whole foot. Dammit, I’m not gonna be able to hold them off for long.

While the first Sword was reloading, I looked off to my side. This is stupid. I know it is, but it’s all I’ve got. Willing energy into my fist, I gripped the wand hard and slammed my hand into the roof, jarring all of the shingles loose with a burst of kinetic energy. Rolling onto my back, I swept my hand in a large arc and exhaled, taking the burst of expelled air and using it to catapult the dozens of shingles I’d loosened at the Swords like a clay hailstorm.

The Swords were obviously not prepared for the barrage. They watched in horror as the curtain of shingles descended on them like a plague of locusts. By the time I ran out of shingles, all three thugs were out cold on the ground. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I heard a whimper on my other side.

Monaco was slipping off the roof. My little stunt had made the entire rooftop completely unstable, and she was now sliding towards the edge. Her fingernails scratched frantically at the rooftop, trying to find purchase, her eyes full of fear. Purely by impulse I reached out and grabbed her hand, and my elbow immediately reminded me that it was not pleased with my decision. Then I found myself being pulled towards the edge, too.

You have a choice to make. You can let her go and maybe you might be able to get out of this. She’s not your problem. She dragged you into this. The devil on my shoulder made his argument to let Monaco go, and I was ashamed to admit I was tempted. None of this is your problem. You know your Cardinal Rules. Rule Number Three. “Just because trouble might find you doesn’t mean you should go looking for it yourself.” Let her go.

Her eyes met mine. She was in pain and desperate. There were no allies she could call on, no safe place she could crawl to in order to lick her wounds. If I let her go, even if she survived the fall, she would not survive the night. Either she’d bleed to death or the Swords would hunt her down. I think she could tell I was weighing my options, because her gaze never left me. It was almost like she was daring me to let go, or just trying to figure out what my next move was.

Shit shit shit. I always get after Alverd for his bleeding heart. I don’t like making choices like this. I’m not good at making them. I don’t want this anxiety. I don’t want this responsibility. Her fingers were slipping through mine. If I didn’t do something she would fall.

Because if she dies I can’t pretend it’s not my fault.

Screaming at the top of my lungs, I lurched forward and grabbed her wrist. She grunted and swung her other arm around to grab onto my arm. The roof beneath me could not hold me, and we both slid forward and over the side. Well, that was dumb. Of all the ways I could die, death by fall was not what I expected.

A brilliant flash of ghostly blue streaked across the street, pushing pedestrians aside and leaving trails of pale flame on the ground. Deotra didn’t stop when she reached the base of the building, instead running straight up the side of it and towards me. I threw out my right arm, losing my grip on the wand as I wrapped myself around her body. The sudden change in direction was enough to dislocate my left arm, but Monaco managed to hold tight to me as we rocketed back up to the rooftop.

Stolen story; please report.

Deotra carried us all the way to the straight wooden beam at the top of the canted roof, depositing us both safely. She nuzzled me, her wet nose poking my face. “Are you alright? I should have been here sooner. There are dozens of Swords all over the streets, and I think they may have paid off some of the guards too. I was attacked by tons of people on my way here.”

The city guard? They’re on the take? “Just to be clear, the same guards who know it’s a capital offense to harm a fox tried to harm you?” I asked.

“Yes. Either the Swords did a good job bribing them or they’re Swords themselves. Regardless, we need to get out of here.” She rubbed her face against my cheek. “Get on my back. I’ll carry you to a safe place. Nobody knows about it but me.”

The adrenaline must have worn off because a fresh jolt of agony in my now useless left arm flared up. “Godsdammit!” I launched into a short bout of epithets as I tried unsuccessfully to tune out the pain. She took my right sleeve in her teeth and pulled gently. “If you’re hurt, we have to get out of here. I won’t let you get hurt anymore.” She was practically pleading with me.

“Wait. We can’t leave Monaco here.” The wolf beastwoman was staring at Deotra with equal parts fear and apprehension.

“Leave her,” Deotra said with impatience. “She’ll slow us down.”

“No. Like it or not, she’s neck deep in this like we are. “Maybe my motives aren’t altruistic like Alverd’s. But even I have my limits. Monaco might have tried to screw us, but then she tried to save me too. So at the very least, I have to square that away.” Deotra’s head pulled back enough for her luminous golden eyes to meet mine, but she said nothing.

Her eyes stared into mine unblinking. If she’s trying to unnerve me, she’s gonna have to try harder than that. Then her nose rubbed against my temple. “Only because it’s you. And only because I’m happy to see you being a better person than I could ever be.” She knelt down, the flames on her back fading away. “Hurry, before more Swords show up.”

Lifting Monaco onto her back was difficult, made harder by the need to not harm her any further. Bad as her wounds are, pulling those bolts out of her will just make her bleed out faster. I hope Deotra has medicine and tools in this safe place she mentioned. I had to settle for draping Monaco against my back like a cape and using the rope from her hook to tie her to me so she wouldn’t slip off.

“Okay, Deotra. Let’s get out of here.”

I had just enough time to wrap my right arm around her neck when she bounded forward and off the rooftop. The pit of my stomach leaped up as gravity took hold, all three of us plunging down to the street below. One of the Swords stirred, groaning as he pushed aside a number of shingles that had nearly dented his head. He screamed before Deotra landed on him, the sound of bones crunching drowning out my cries of terror for a second before we were tearing through the streets together.

We shot forward across the streets of Blossom City at speeds horses could only envy. Deotra was the epitome of grace and agility, weaving in and around wagons and carts and leaping over people in one fluid movement. She seemed to flow around every obstacle like river water around stones, without even thinking about every minute adjustment. Even when bystanders reacted in unpredictable ways, she was able to intuit and respond without hurting them. An elderly couple crossing the street at the wrong moment froze as they saw the giant flaming fox barreling toward them, and instead of bashing into them Deotra leapt over them like an antelope.

The looks on their faces were that of awe. They probably think this is a profound omen or something. Or maybe they’re just too dumbfounded to be scared. Deotra landed on the other side of the crossing with barely a sound on the stone road and kept going.

Perhaps it was because she was so busy concentrating on our escape, but I was able to feel waves of emotion radiating off of her in a steady rhythm, like the beat of a drum. Or a heart. Beneath everything there’s worry, fear, anxiety. But under that, there’s also this overwhelming sense of determination wrapped around her core like a shield. No matter how afraid she might be, her need to protect me is pushing all that fear away.

Is that part of what love is? Being more worried about someone else than yourself? Her feelings suffused me with confidence as our bond allowed emotional transference to share her resolve. I already know it goes both ways. If this is her way of telling me to be brave and trust her, then the least I can do is let her know that I do.

It was hard to convince myself that I wasn’t scared. Reasoning with an abstract concept and then persuading myself not to feel that way was absurd. But at the same time, even though I was injured and had a dying woman literally strapped to my back, I also had a fierce little fox who would fight for me. Even though I hadn’t known it, she’d been with me my whole life, and had my back every time.

She just needs to know it. That I know she’s there.

I held onto her tighter, pushing thoughts of support and admiration towards her. I let my fear slide off of me like water off a duck’s back, clinging tight to the sense of relief I felt when I saw her coming to save me. Beneath me, the determination in her heart flared like a freshly fed furnace, and she put on a burst of speed.

All the jostling from her rapid strides wasn’t doing my arm any favors, though. Every time Deotra bounded it sent a fresh wave of pain through me. My shoulder also felt damp from where Monaco’s blood was still seeping into my robe, and the shaft of the bolt kept bouncing uncomfortably close to the side of my head. Gods, I can’t concentrate with all this pain. There’s too much noise, movement. Need to block it out…

My vision was starting to get blurry and my breaths shallow. The pain was overwhelming, clouding my thoughts. I just need to close my eyes. All this movement is making my headache worse. My grip around Deotra’s neck loosened, and my eyes fell shut. Just give me a few minutes. I’ll feel better after that…

When I next opened my eyes, I was lying on a heavily patched futon, in a brightly lit room that was spacious enough for at least twenty people to lounge in. Although the walls were in a state of advanced neglect, they were sturdy enough to keep the roof up and the cold night air out. Illumination was provided by the dozens of paper lanterns that hung from the ceiling beams, hooks attached to the walls, and left on the floor. Each lantern was of different size and color, with different words written on them in local custom.

A warm, damp compress on my head was lifted away. When my vision sharpened, I saw Deotra kneeling beside me. Her face bloomed into a purehearted smile when I looked at her. “Thank goodness. You’ve been out for a few hours now.” She laid her hand gently on my shoulder. “Don’t try to sit up yet. I set your shoulder magically, but it’ll still be very sore until tomorrow. I had to work on her first.” I looked past her to see Monaco lying on a similar futon, her entire upper body and most of her right leg covered in bandages that looked like they would need changing soon.

“Removing the bolts was simple enough. Closing the wounds is something I had to ask Drache for help with.”

I blinked in confusion. “Wait. You can’t cast healing magic?”

She shook her head. “No. In order to properly weave that kind of energy into a wound to heal it, you need to possess a certain reverence for life that I don’t have.” But Drache does? I don’t know what scares me more, that my savior doesn’t respect life or that the ancient sorceress that put me through my own personal hell does.

“She’s sleeping for now. I put some herbs in her food to help her drift off. Nothing too serious, mostly just local roots and things.” She drew my attention to the center of the room. A few feet away from me was a pot sitting in a small hearth, heated by familiar blue fire. Maybe it was just my empty stomach but the bubbling broth in the pot smelled heavenly. Above the broth was the scent of beef and vegetables. Deotra set about the task of cooking with the utmost dedication, stirring the meat and vegetables in the boiling water while occasionally adding spoonfuls of dark black sauce.

“Where are we?” I asked. “An old shrine on the north-eastern side of the city. Many of the city’s dead are buried here. An entire district dedicated to paying respects to the dearly departed.” She used a pair of chopsticks to remove a strip of now cooked meat from the pot, which she laid on a wooden tray.

“I found this place not long after Drache and I met. We lived here for a short time, where she told me about herself and her mission. She convinced me that my soul mate was out there and she would help me find you in exchange for being the vessel to carry her. Thankfully nobody ever bothered to come see if it was true that one of the condemned buildings here was actually haunted or not.”

She gave me another smile so bright it outshone all the lanterns in the room. “I was surprised to see that all of my things were still here. I guess I really did a good job of selling that haunting story to the locals. As you can see I was a bit of a magpie for a bit. But I couldn’t help it! It was my first time in a big city and all I could do was filch little things to decorate my nest. And when nobody stopped me, I got bold enough to take lanterns too.”

“Or maybe everyone just thought it was the work of a mischievous spirit.” I added. “Not malevolent enough to cause harm, but definitely curious enough to take something if you weren’t looking.” She blushed. “Well, I know better now. I know it’s not okay to take without asking.” She busied herself with her cooking as a distraction.

“How long did you live here?” I asked.

“About a year. Drache had to teach me how to survive in mortal society, and I was her window into how the world had changed during her slumber. But every night when I slept, she’d show me dreams of what we’d achieve someday.” She pointed at the wall to my other side.

Draped on the wall in what was undoubtedly stolen paint was an image of a woman in a red dress with long golden hair riding on the back of a dragon. Time and lack of detail weren’t enough to conceal her identity from me. “That’s Drache, isn’t it? Is that really her dream?”

“One among many. She never got to truly bond with a dragon because her mother forbade her.”

The crude painting took up the majority of the wall space. “Where’s your dream?” I inquired.

Deotra’s face turned red again and she pointed to the small glass case sitting at the base of the wall. “It’s in there. I haven’t had the heart to look at it. It’s embarrassing.” She turned away, focusing on chopping the meat and vegetables to place into bowls of rice.

The case was about a foot tall, and inside were two cloth dolls dressed in the manner of Kierhaian nobility. They had robes made of fine silk, seated side by side in a room similar to the one we were in. They were surrounded by tiny origami paper lanterns. The figure on the left had long red yarn hair and two yellow buttons for eyes, and an outfit that was typical of Kierhaian shrine maidens. The one on the right had black felt for hair and two purple buttons for eyes, as well as a distinctly familiar blue robe with gold trim.

She had a dream of us. She built this diorama of a future she hoped to one day see. The details are so accurate, too. Somehow, Drache was able to do what thousands of mages over hundreds of years have struggled to do; predict the future. The thought alone was terrifying, and opened the door to a lot of tough questions that likely had answers I wouldn’t want to hear. For now, let’s not think about that. I don’t want to worry Deotra any more than I already have.

Instead I deflected by changing the subject. “That smells really good. What is it?” Deotra took some of the broth from the pot using a ladle and poured it into the bowl with the rice. Then she laid it down next to me.

“It’s a peasant dish that originated in the agricultural parts of Kierhai before its unification. Farmers were said to cook it in anything able to hold boiling water. But simplicity is just part of its charm.” Gently she put her hand behind my head and lifted me up. “Try to sit up. Not too quickly now.”

Without moving my left arm, which was bound in a crude bandage sling, I propped myself up on my right hand. She picked the bowl up and held up a piece of meat with her chopsticks. “Here. Eat.” Her face was bright red. Isn’t this kind of thing practically a courtship ritual in Kierhai? A strange custom, but she worked so hard to keep me alive. She deserves to feel like she earned something, even if it’s just feeding me. I opened my mouth and let Deotra feed me. It’s kind of embarrassing, but for some reason I don’t entirely hate it.

After the meal, I settled back into my futon. My stomach felt warm from the food, making me feel at ease for the first time in hours. As I gazed up at the ceiling, Deotra brought a third raggedy futon over and laid it next to mine. She snuggled into it, turning on her side to face me.

“I spent a lot of lonely nights in this shrine. I’m glad I never have to feel that way anymore.” Then she scowled. “Kuro, Monaco saw my face while I was tending to her wounds. We’ll have to explain all of this to her tomorrow. I don’t know if you’re ready to tell your friends about me, but whatever you decide, I’m with you.” She waved her hand and all of the paper lanterns winked out, plunging the room into darkness save the rays of moonlight streaming in through a boarded up window.

“I’ll think about what to do tomorrow. For now, there’s no rush to get back to them. We need to take care of Monaco first. Maybe while we’re laying low we can do some investigating on our own. We can try one of the markets to look for medicine and find some leads while we’re at it.” Her golden eyes peered at me, glowing in the dark.

“Besides, I owe you that date. Especially after you indulged my decision to save Monaco in the first place.” Even in the dark I could see Deotra’s ears twitch, straightening in excitement.

“You mean it? Can we really have our date tomorrow?”

“Yes. Take me anywhere you want to go. The world can wait on us for a change.”

She let out a giddy sound of contentment before pulling the futon cover up to her face, burying herself in it as she squealed happily. I owe her so much. Tomorrow I owe it to her to really get to know her. It’s going to be a day about us, for us. I let my eyes close, and breathed in deep.

We deserve it.