The hair-raising growl rumbling from the back of June’s throat would have made an ordinary man turn and run. Rasp, alas, was not an ordinary man. And while unordinary was an apt description most days, he feared what he was about to attempt landed him squarely in ‘stupid man’ territory. He reached out, searching along the ground until he found June’s bare foot beside him. He heaved forward, wrapping all four limbs around the trunk of her leg like an unruly child clinging to the equally unruly parent about to kick some ass at a children’s stoolball game.

June tried to shake Rasp from her leg. Other than rattling his brain a little, her attempts were largely unsuccessful. She settled for dragging him with her, one stubborn step at a time. She gritted out between clenched teeth, “What are you doing?”

“Preventing unnecessary death.” Rasp tightened his grip around her leg. He was surprised to feel the familiar scratch of wool trousers and not bare skin scuffing up the side of his face. June had done him the courtesy of donning clothes after changing forms. Thoughtful, but unnecessary. After all, he wasn’t a prude like Faris. If it weren’t for the bitter cold, Rasp was certain his people would have done away with clothing altogether.

Despite Rasp’s admirable efforts, they were still moving at a speed too fast for his liking. He dug his heels into the dirt to further impede June’s progress. “In case I wasn’t clear, it’s your death I’m preventing!”

“My death?” June ceased dragging Rasp’s ass across the bumpy terrain. The air of incredulousness in her voice seemed to imply her hands had already gone to her hips. Better that than continuing towards her inevitable death, Rasp supposed. “That blue porcupine may have gotten the jump on me before,” June said, “but I’m ready for it this time. Gonna make me a nice hat afterwards.”

“That’s not a porcupine, that’s a fae.” Rasp raised his voice, for June’s benefit, but probably not in the way she thought. “A fae who wouldn’t dream of smiting an unfamiliar human while their apprentice is clinging to her leg, I imagine!”

Whisper’s voice carried on the breeze towards them. “You’re right, because dreaming would be irrelevant. I could drop her from this distance regardless of your proximity.”

“But you won’t, right?”

Whisper’s response was not so much words as it was an unintelligible grumble.

At the very least, their interaction had June reconsidering her plans for a new hat. “Hold up. You two know each other?”

“Intimately.”

“No, not intimately,” Whisper snapped. “Don’t say it like that.”

“That’s Whisper. They fancy themselves my mentor, when really it’s me doing most of the teaching,” Rasp said. While June may have stopped uttering animalistic growls, that didn’t convince him to release his grip on her leg just yet. He knew from personal experience the lengths a hotheaded Stoneclaw would go to settle a slight. “Whisper, this is June. She’s family. Don’t be a dick.”

Whisper’s quills rattled back, promising nothing.

At least his mentor wasn’t throwing things. A good sign, all things considered. “Now that we’ve got introductions out of the way, I’m interested to know how the two of you know each other.”

“We don’t,” Whisper replied.

“We do!” June insisted with a stomp of her foot that set an unpleasant rattle up Rasp’s spine. “I looked a little different last time, is all.”

Whisper’s silence was effective in communicating their absolute disinterest in the matter. With a huff, June’s voice changed back in Rasp’s direction, explaining, “I was hunting on the ridge last summer when a freak flash flood struck, nearly sweeping me off the mountain. I was making my way to higher ground when I heard shouting and came across a faun trapped under a tree limb. Having grown up around Lonebrook, I knew of Faris even if he didn’t know of me. I was in the midst of trying to rescue him when this one–”

Rasp assumed from the jerk of her body, June was pointing accusingly in Whisper’s direction. That, or giving the finger, both of which the fae definitely deserved.

“–showed up out of nowhere and started whipping toxic quills at me!”

“Did I?” Whereas Rasp would have expected confusion, defensiveness, perhaps even a tiny smidge of remorse, Whisper proved him wrong once more by sounding more amused than anything. “I seem to recall a magic bear, not a woman.”

“I was the bear! And whatever you hit me with knocked me on my ass for three days! By the time I awoke, all the chaos had already ended! There was no one left on the mountain. It was very confusing.”

Rasp’s eyebrows lifted. Not in reaction to what June had said, but what his mentor wasn’t saying. “Magic bear?” he repeated. “Whisper, you knew she had magic?”

“Of course. Just as I could tell you had magic the first time we met.”

“And you still attacked her?”

“You say that like it surprises you, little bird. I was under the impairment of severe iron poisoning and I needed Faris to get to you. I simply didn’t have time to deal with any other distractions so I made the distraction go away.”

The taut muscles in June’s leg relaxed. Rasp suspected her will to fight had deflated along with her pride. Not without getting the last word, of course. “I could have helped.”

“Considering your version of helping involved trying to rescue a prey species whilst in bear form, I maintain that I made the correct decision.” Whisper’s soft footsteps tentatively approached. “Her magical signature is similar to yours, little bird. You mentioned family, but there is a resemblance that would suggest this one is more than just a Stoneclaw.”

“I’m his sister.”

“Fascinating.” Whisper’s curiosity got the better of them and the small fae scuttled closer. Still clinging to June’s leg, Rasp felt Whisper press past him as they poked and prodded at the very human they’d intended to kill only moments ago. “Your magic is markedly more controlled than his. Were you dropped on your head less as a child?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Heat stung the tip of Rasp’s nose. “What happened to not being a dick?”

“Asking innocent questions does not make one a dick, little bird. Wishing aloud that you had been brought up under the same circumstances as your sibling, thus allowing you to have a competent grasp on your abilities and therefore decreasing my workload, would be dickish. I said nothing to that effect.” To add insult to injury, Whisper delivered this with a patronizing pat to Rasp’s head. “I only thought it.”

Rasp was debating whether a fae hex would be worth snapping Whisper’s fingers off with his teeth when the sounds of approaching footsteps spared him from yet another stupid decision. Still clinging to June’s leg, he felt her upper body shift in the direction of the oncoming commotion. “Oh, hey look. They’re back. And there was a mule.” June rapped her knuckles against the top of his head in a manner that was probably meant to come across as friendly. Felt mostly painful, though. “Guess it wasn’t a euphemism, after all.”

Faris sounded remarkably similar to a parent who’d just walked in on a roomful of children caught painting the walls with jam. “What in the gods’ names are you doing?”

Rasp decided now was as good of a time to let go of June’s leg as any. Well, actually, several minutes prior would have been better, but that ship had already sailed. He untangled himself from his sister and scooted away. “Saving lives, Faris! What’s it look like?”

“...Not that?”

“Definitely not that,” Hop agreed.

Rasp threw his hands in the air. “Oh shut up!”

Rasp wasn’t the only one upset by the pair’s unannounced arrival. The wind whipped overhead, stirring the blanket of dried leaves from the forest floor in a flurry of crinkly movement. “Faun,” Whisper greeted Faris with no warmth in their voice whatsoever. “I should have known you were behind this.”

Faris mirrored Whisper’s enthusiasm. “Oh look, Rasp still hasn’t managed to kill you yet. Impressive.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why do you think I’m here?” Faris countered. “For him, obviously.”

Well this certainly was a rare treat. In the past, the only people who’d ever fought over Rasp were those seeking to kick his ass. And while both Whisper and Faris wanted something from him–be it awakening their magical egg or simply for the sake of friendship–it was rather nice knowing the end result wouldn’t be a beatdown for a change. Not for him, anyway. Based on the severity of their dislike for one another, there was a good chance the pair would be at each other’s throats in no time.

“June, right?” Hop stammered, acutely aware of the sudden tension hanging over their heads. “Do you think you could assist me with something? Away from here, preferably.”

“And miss the action?”

“Yes, actually. That was the point. I was trying to be discreet, but I can see how that may have been misguided of me.”

“No way. This is just getting good,” June grunted. “Take Rasp.”

“I got the idea that he needs to be here for this. Unlike you and I, who could be anywhere else right now. Far, far away, ideally.”

“You can go, June,” Faris said. “I know how to handle myself.”

“Handle yourself? Is that what we’re calling running and screaming nowadays?”

The telltale thump of Faris’s hoof striking the dirt rang out. “Will you go already?”

Hop, fortunately, was well versed in the art of getting stubborn Stoneclaws to fall in line without the need for superfluous hoof stomping or ear fluttering. “Have you ever had a corn cake?”

“Corn cake? What’s a corn cake? Is it food?” June perked up at the idea. Her footsteps were fast and light, already pitter-pattering off in Hop’s direction, mirroring the sudden eagerness in her tone. “Please tell me it’s food. Shapeshifting is such strenuous work and I’m always so hungry. Faris is a stickler for rations.”

June’s voice faded in the distance as the pair moved away, affording those remaining the privacy needed to hash things out. Rasp found himself conflicted. On the one hand, he knew he had to stay and help smooth over whatever altercation was about to take place between Whisper and Faris. But, at the same time, the other hand promised corn cakes. What rightfully should have been his corn cakes.

And yet, the other-other hand, the third, oftentimes forgotten hand, insisted he could do both. Surely Faris and Whisper wouldn’t kill each other in the few, short minutes it took to secure a bite to eat while they got all of their pleasantries out of the way.

“Not you,” both Faris and Whisper said together the moment Rasp started to gather his feet beneath him.

Rasp settled back down with a groan. “You know why you two hate each other? Because you’re too much alike!”

“Don’t compare me to this psychopath.”

“At least this psychopath isn’t stupid!” Whisper shot back. The agitation in the fae’s voice was damn near palpable. “Every competing power in the United Territories is scouring the countryside for the little bird right now. You know that, yes? You could have led any number of enemies right to us!”

“They didn’t need me for that. You two have been leaving a nice trail of destruction in your wake wherever you go.” Twigs and leaves crunched under hoof as Faris drew closer, his voice growing markedly louder as the gap between them diminished. “And yes, I am very much aware every power in the territories is out to get Rasp. You want to know how I know that? Because Geralt Lazuli placed a mucking bounty on my head! I’ve spent the last two months on the run because suddenly everyone wants to use me to get to the realm’s most powerful witch!”

Aw, Faris thought he was the most powerful. That was almost as flattering as it was sad.

“And that’s not the half of it,” Faris continued. “I managed to slip Geralt’s snare, so he set his sights on my village instead. He’s got the place locked down, no one in, no one out, trying to lure me home.”

A sudden hurt struck Rasp square in the chest. “Mom and dad?”

“Alive and well, last I heard. But I’m not sure for how much longer. Which is why I need you to come back with me before that changes.”

Rasp did not claim to be a brilliant strategist by any stretch, but even he saw the obvious holes in such a plan. “...Wouldn’t Geralt be expecting that?”

“As I said before, stupid,” Whisper agreed with a disapproving tsk. “That is exactly what Geralt Lazuli is expecting you to do. I haven’t spent the last four months keeping the little bird out of enemy hands just to let you run headlong into a trap with him. Forget it, faun. It’s out of the question.”

“Rasp doesn’t need your permission,” Faris argued.

Whisper said something cutting in return and two voices rose in volume as tempers flared, leaving Rasp to ponder an alternative that could save his adopted family whilst skirting Geralt’s trap. “You know what they wouldn’t be expecting?” he said, slowly, still piecing the ideas together. “Me and a wind shifter.”

“Do you know why they wouldn’t be expecting that, little bird? Because it’s assumed the wind shifter is too intelligent to go along with something that idiotic!”

“Faris’s family is my family too. And whether you approve of it or not, I’m going to help them. So if you want to keep me around to hatch your egg, then you’d better find a way to make it work.”

There was an uncomfortable pause before Whisper muttered out of the corner of their mouth, “It’s not an egg.”

Un-fucking-believable. Him, the king of petty squabbles, was having to act as referee to his betterers. Rasp should have been stuffing his face hole with a hot corn cake right now, not playing peacemaker! “I meant what I said earlier,” he replied. “You two are the same. The schemiest schemers I know. For the gods’ sakes, put your differences aside and figure something out! If I have to form a plan all on my own we’re as good as dead. And then you both would look like idiots.”