The forest giants swayed overhead in a symphony of quaking leaves and groaning boughs. Without light, Rasp had no way of telling what either Faris or Whisper were doing. The severe lack of angry pacing painted its own picture within his mind. He envisioned the pair staring the other down, face-to-face, seconds from verbally ripping into one another all over again.

It was Faris who conceded his silence. With a full-body sigh, the faun bit back his anger and extended the proverbial olive branch in a manner that almost sounded sincere. “What’s this about an egg?”

Naturally, Whisper’s first instinct was to set the olive branch on fire. “Nothing. It doesn’t concern you.”

“Whisper,” Rasp groaned, running a heavy hand over his face, “do you really want the explanation to come from me? I mean, really-really? Because if that’s the case, I’m going to make it as uncomfortable for you as possible. Lots of intimate details, if you catch my drift.”

The fae rattled their quills so fiercely, Rasp swore he felt the aftershock thrum within his achy bones. Threat or not, at least it got them talking. Sort of. “It is not an egg.” A second glare from Rasp managed to extract further information from Whisper in the most insulting way possible. “The little bird calls it that because it’s the closest comparison he can wrap his feeble mind around. It is an unawakened of my kind.”

“A baby, you mean?” Faris said.

Whisper’s tone seemed to suggest the use of ‘baby’ was only slightly more tolerable to ‘egg’. “Essentially.”

“Great, glad we got one thing clarified. Now tell me what does that have to do with not saving my village?”

Whisper, once more, took their sweet time saying nothing at all, prompting Rasp to fill in the necessary blanks. “Because it’s the only egg left of their species and Whisper lost it. We’ve been running up and down the whole countryside for months looking for it. Whisper’s under the impression it’s amongst a collection of magical artifacts, which may or may not be located in the military settlement not far from here. Owned by Geralt Lazuli, of course.”

“Of course it is,” Faris said with a groan.

Rasp tilted his head in Whisper’s direction, flashing a threatening smile. “See how easy that was? That’s what you should be doing. Not me.”

He wasn’t sure at what point he’d managed to break Whisper but, at last, with one final quill rattle, the fae stopped being a stubborn stick in the mud and offered something actually useful. “Today’s scouting mission confirmed that the artifact is indeed within the settlement. I wasn’t able to breach the tower it’s being housed in, but I could feel it calling to me.” Whisper’s irritated voice shifted to Faris, explaining, “I need the little bird’s help to awaken it once it’s been recovered. Which is why I cannot risk losing him to one of Geralt’s traps.”

The answer seemed fairly obvious to Rasp. “Then we break into the settlement, steal the egg, and then go save Faris’s family. There, solved.”

“It is not a task to be taken lightly, little bird. The artifact is being safeguarded against fae magic. Due to the nature of the charms, I am unable to step foot within the tower walls. I would need someone of the magical variety who is unaffected by both iron and silver in order to do so on my behalf.”

“Okay, but I can still do it.”

“For your sake, I hope that was a misguided jest. I should not have to state the many obvious reasons as to why that would not work.”

“Fine.” Rasp rolled his eyes. So many stipulations. It was as if Whisper didn’t actually want the job done. “Faris and I can do it.”

“Forgive me for not being clearer. While you and the faun could breach the tower without harm, neither of you would not be able to locate the object itself. It is a magical artifact, under the guise of glamour, being stored in a vicinity filled with every other sort of magical artifact imaginable. The sheer abundance of power would overwhelm your magic sensitivity beyond repair, little bird. Provided you didn't touch something cursed that killed you first.”

“So what you’re saying is that you need an expert. A whole team, from the sounds of it,” Faris said. “Do you know how long it would take for you to assemble one? A proper one? Weeks, if not months. I don’t have that kind of time.”

“You don’t,” Whisper agreed. “But I do.”

“Except you’re not great at dealing with people. I am. Come back to free Lonebrook and, once it’s done, I’ll help you assemble the best gods damn specialists money can buy.”

“But–”

Whisper barely got a word out before Faris cut them off. “No. It’s your turn to listen and hear how stupid you’re being for a change. You get one chance at recovering your egg. If you fail, Geralt will know someone’s discovered his hoard. Which means he’s going to bring half his army down here and move it again. You can’t afford that possibility. You’ve found your artifact and it’s safe. It’s not going anywhere. We take care of my crisis first and then we’ll fix yours.”

Whisper said nothing, resigned to their hostile silence. The wind whipping overhead was enough of an indication to prove that, even if they didn’t like what Faris was saying, the faun was arguing sense.

“You know Rasp is going to come with me anyway,” Faris persisted. “You might as well ensure he comes back in as few pieces as possible.”

The wind whipped harder as Whisper’s fury doubled. “As my apprentice, he is to accompany me until I have released him from service. That was our contract that he and I agreed upon. If I don’t go, then neither does he.”

Rasp had only one card left to play. Ideally, he’d planned to hold onto it, squirrel it away until the absolute last moment, but it appeared as if the moment had come to reveal his winning hand. “If Faris doesn’t get his family back, then neither do you.”

The wind dropped without warning. “Come again?”

“You just said so yourself. Our deal stated I was to be your apprentice. Agreeing to help awaken your egg was never part of the original contract.”

“‘I vow to find a way to give you the happy ending you deserve,’” Whisper quoted back at him. “That’s what you told me only last night.”

A saner man would not have laughed at a fae to their face. As unhinged and stupid seemed to go together like butter and toast, Rasp did so with great relish. “That’s the thing, though. What I said and what you think I said are two different things. I could have been flirting with you for all you know.”

Unable to argue with Rasp’s surprisingly sound logic, Whisper switched tactics, the edge of their voice fraying ever-so noticeably. “You don’t even want your magic!”

“But you do.”

“But…” For the first time in ever, the fae appeared to be at an actual loss for words.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Rasp considered offering a patronizing pat to the side of Whisper’s scaled face. Alas, with darkness making it damn near impossible to pinpoint the fae amongst the gloom, it wasn’t worth the risk of accidentally pricking himself on one of their quills again. Rasp settled for a shit-eating grin instead. “I may not be the brightest, but I pick up things along the way. A good fae contract is supposed to be watertight and you overlooked several holes in yours.”

“Unbelievable,” Whisper said, finally.

“I know, look at me, learning shit. Who would have thought?”

Rasp felt a scaled hand grip his shoulder and pull. “We need to speak in private. Now.”

Whisper wasn’t physically strong enough to drag him anywhere, but Rasp sensed this was one of those times that it would be better to go along willingly. He stood and Whisper’s grip shifted from his shoulder to his elbow, still pulling with the desperation of a leashed dog set on being the first to piss on the tree in the yard.

“Rasp,” Faris said, voice laced with unease, “are you sure about this?”

Fuck no. Everyone knew you weren’t supposed to waltz hand-in-hand with a psychopathic fae into the dark woods at night. But Rasp also knew that whatever Whisper was about to tell him likely couldn’t be said in front of Faris. “I’ll be fine, Dingle. I’ll scream for you if I need anything, alright?”

“You sure?”

Faris really wasn’t letting this one go. Probably best to put his fears at ease. “I’m sure. In fact, go start packing your bags. I have a feeling we’ll be on our way back to your village in no time.”

“I don’t have any bags to pack, but I appreciate your confidence.”

“Well you should go get some bags then. And a few cute outfits too. A splash of color, maybe? You know, something to bring out the adoration for me in your eyes.”

“You can’t see my eyes!”

“It’s the thought that counts, Dingle,” Rasp called over his shoulder as Whisper pulled him away. They walked for a short ways–some more effectively than others as Rasp did quite a bit of tripping. Eventually, the pair reached a suitable distance away and Whisper halted. And then they just stood there in awkward silence glaring at one another. At least that’s what Rasp assumed they were doing. Short of reaching out and touching Whisper’s face, he had no real way of knowing what sort of expression was curled across their ugly mug.

“Is this really what you want, little bird?”

“You mean saving Faris’s family?” Want probably wasn’t the word he’d use to describe it. Need to do, morally obligated to do, would never forgive himself if he stood back and did nothing? Yes, a thousand times over. Want? No. Nobody wanted to run headlong into a trap designed specifically to capture and use you against your will. “Yes.”

“Why?” Whisper demanded.

“What do you mean why? You’re doing the same thing, aren’t you? You’re risking your neck to ensure the fate of your people. It’s not any different than what I’m doing.”

“These people are not your own. They’re not even the same species!”

“So?”

“So?” Whisper repeated, voice raising several octaves in indignation. The wind picked up again, ripping through the quaking treetops overhead for several seconds before it stilled, along with Whisper’s temper. When the fae spoke again, they sounded as though a few deep breaths had done them some good. Their tone was calmer, more collected, less likely to kill Rasp on the spot. “I do not like this, little bird.”

“I know.”

“It’s stupid and reckless.”

“I know.” Rasp waited patiently for Whisper to add the inevitable ‘you are stupid and reckless’.

“But your loyalty to those you consider kin will always be the driving force in your life. It is, in some ways, commendable. Stupid nonetheless, but commendable.” There was another reluctant pause before the fae added, “I will not stop you. If this is what you need to do, then so be it.”

“Really?”

“However–”

Ah, the catch. Rasp had known to expect one.

“–if you want my help, which you will undoubtedly need if you expect this venture to not go up in flames, then I will ask something of you. A trade, if you will.” Whisper waited for Rasp’s resulting protest. His mentor continued speaking when it became abundantly clear that Rasp didn’t intend to offer one. “Your magic. You already agreed to gift some in order to awaken the youngling, but for this, I want all of it.”

All of it? Rasp was caught between relief and suspicion. “You said you didn’t want to do that before.”

“It wasn’t fair before. By taking all of your magic I would have been ridding you of a life extended beyond regular human years, of power, and influence. I could not ask that of you for nothing. And now I have something to offer. My help for your magic.”

Rasp didn’t see a downside. A shorter lifespan, maybe. Not that it meant much. He’d already exceeded everyone’s expectations for how long he would live anyway. Besides, what good was a long life if he didn’t have a weird faun family to share it with? Oh, and there was a bear now too. June seemed like she would make a lively addition to his list of furry relatives.

Common sense dictated that he give life-altering decisions such as this extensive thought. Thus, Rasp waited at least ten seconds before agreeing. He offered his open hand in Whisper’s blurry direction. “Deal.”

“Deal?” The calmness drained from Whisper’s voice. “Just like that? No consideration at all to how this affects you?”

A fine layer of confusion settled over Rasp’s preexisting suspicion. “Why are you so angry? You’re the one who asked for it. Shouldn’t you be happy?”

“No! I’m not happy!”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not thinking! I am asking for the most important piece of yourself and you’re just giving it away without any forethought. This is how it starts. This is how people take advantage of you!” Whisper stomped off, their tiny footsteps slamming against the dried leaves as they paced back and forth, working themselves up into another frenzy. “Why is it I’m the only one who can see that? No matter what I say, how much I demand, you’re not going to change, are you?”

Rasp shielded his face from the flurry of leaves being stirred into the air by Whisper’s tantrum. “Why are you getting mad at me? It was your deal. I was only agreeing to it.”

“Exactly! You’re blindly agreeing to something without considering what it means for your future. After everything I’ve taught, you’re still thinking with your heart and not your brain!”

“I don’t see why that’s a problem.”

“Because you’re going to end up the same as them if you don’t stop!”

“Them?”

“Yes, them! Like you, they were too blind to see the greed of mortal-kind.” Whisper’s restless pacing lost some of its vigor. “They gave and gave, not because they had to, but because they wanted to. And it cost them everything. As it will you.”

The dots were starting to connect within Rasp’s mind. Whisper wasn’t mad at him. Not entirely, anyway. “I believe you when you say it will cost me everything. The difference is I don’t care.”

“You should!”

“Why?”

“Because!” Whisper hesitated, their voice marked with desperation as they searched for an answer Rasp could wrap his mind around. “It’s…it’s not natural. It goes against self-preservation. Why would anyone give up everything for another?”

Rasp lifted one shoulder in a hapless shrug. “Stupidity?”

The dried leaves fell back to the ground as Whisper issued a long, wearisome sigh. “Sometimes I think you might be more like my people than I ever was, little bird. I have been the last of my kind for centuries and yet, I’m beginning to realize that perhaps I’ve always been alone.”

“Nah, I call bullshit.” Rasp stifled any ensuing argument with a wave of his hand. “Are you a selfish, self-serving little prick? Absolutely. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. Despite all that, you may not be giving up everything, but you are dedicating a substantial effort to bring your people back, no? I think that counts for something.”

Whisper gagged at the implication, sounding like a cat with a hairball lodged in its throat.

“In fact, I think saving Faris’s village presents a very unique opportunity for you. For the first time in ever, you could go against your conniving nature and help simply out of the kindness of your heart. You know, baby steps and whatnot.”

“Over my dead body.”

Worth a shot, Rasp supposed.

“There is a fine line between generosity and allowing yourself to be robbed blind, little bird. Helping your family is noble. Walking headfirst into a trap in order to do so is the opposite of that. I would hate for you to lose everything in order to learn such a valuable lesson, so I will not take everything. Just your magic. If you want my help, my offer still stands.”

“I’m not changing my mind.”

“I know. Which is why I need you to take this more seriously than you have anything else in your life. You are about to strike a fae contract. Once the deal is struck, the conditions are binding.”

In that case, Rasp realized it was probably worth stating his conditions aloud. “You will journey with us and use your power to spare Lonebrook and its people from destruction. In exchange, Faris will help you assemble a team to rescue your unawakened egg. Afterwards, my magic is yours. All of it.”

Whisper’s scaled hand grasped his and magic sparked between them, sealing the covenant.