“I can’t believe this. I’m fuming. Positively fuming!” Rali’s harsh whisper echoed along the tunnel until it sounded as if there were multiple dwarfs all angrily talking over one another at once.

The air underground was hot and stale. An olfactory amalgamation of dust, soil, and musty sock hung suffocatingly thick all around them. The stench pervaded the nostrils, the mouth, and eventually worked its way all the way down into the lungs themselves.

Rali carried on, seemingly unbothered by the abysmal lack of fresh air. “I’ve been at your side for almost eighty years, loyal, loving, committed, and still, you insist on keeping secrets from me. Does my friendship mean nothing to you, Oralia?”

Oralia placed one leaden foot in front of the other again, and again, and again, focused on reaching the end of the cramped tunnel system and, by extension, Briony’s cottage. Her hurried pace was not due to the fact that she had an irate dwarf nipping at her heels — although that certainly helped — but because shock threatened to take her out at the knees and she needed to reach Sascha before she lost control of her body altogether.

What she was supposed to say to him, she had no idea. But looking her fuckmate in the eye before ripping the rug out from under his feet seemed as good of a place to start as any.

“You’re seriously not going to tell me what Novera said?” Rali persisted.

“I did tell you what Novera said.”

“Yeah, about the deal you struck, sure. You help save her village and she helps you with your dark entity problem. But I’m not an idiot, Oralia. I can tell there was more. Whatever Novera said, it’s gone and rattled your cage something fierce. You haven’t looked this pale since that time Ellisar filled your bed with scorpions!”

Suddenly a bed brimming with scorpions didn’t seem so bad. Oralia clicked her tusks in mild exasperation. “Do you trust that I will tell you when it is time?”

“No! Because I don’t trust your sense of timing,” Rali said. “What if it’s too late?”

“I assure you, you will know by the time it is too late.”

“Well that just makes me want to know it even more!”

Oralia and Rali were not the only ones in the tunnel. Briony walked at the head of the procession, the warm glow of her lantern painting the bowed walls in flickering shades of yellow. Fauns possessed exceptional hearing. Anything Oralia said, even in the faintest of whispers, would undoubtedly be overheard. Oralia would tell Rali eventually, as she would the others, but that time was not now. Not while her mind was racing at full speed in every direction available.

Sascha deserved to know first before anyone else. It was only fair considering Oralia’s current predicament was partially his fault! But it was more than that. Sascha would know what to do, what to say, how to prevent Oralia’s self-destructive thoughts from imploding on the spot. He was good at that sort of thing. Unless of course this was one of those situations that caught even him by surprise, at which point he would be as useless as her.

He is definitely going to be surprised.

Regardless of Sascha’s reaction, at the very least Oralia wouldn’t have to bear the burden alone. They could spend the rest of the night spiraling down a long pit of despair together, wondering how in the seven realms of chaos this had happened. They could take turns lamenting about how they were too old, too tired, and too cursed with dark magic to be entrusted with the care of a child.

“I got it!” The dwarf’s voice rang out from behind. In true Rali fashion, instead of simply dropping the topic, she decided to narrow the answer down through guesswork. “You just found out you have a long lost evil twin.”

“No, Rali.”

“Oh, so you’re the evil one, huh? Checks out.”

“No.”

“Your parents were secretly evil?”

“Why are you doing this?” Oralia spun around to face her. Although undeniably faster, her dwarf lieutenant had opted to walk at the back of the procession, to keep Oralia from falling too far behind, most likely. That and to prod her with jabs in both the literal and metaphorical sense. “Do you think it is helping? I am already riddled with every kind of guilt imaginable. Is it necessary to add to my anguish right now?”

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The distant glow from Briony’s lantern painted Rali’s dirt-smudged face in an unsettling light. A wolfish smile slowly spread from ear to ear, demonstrating the unnerving fact that dwarfs possessed more teeth than most people gave them credit for.

The smile came with a revelation as well — for Oralia, not Rali. The orc ran a weary hand down her sweat-soaked brow with a sigh. “Oh my gods. You are doing this on purpose.”

In the strangest turn of events, Rali said absolutely nothing. Unlike her smile, which said everything and then some. Too much, in fact.

Oralia continued, more for her own benefit, as speaking her thoughts aloud helped process what was taking place. “You are badgering me with harmless accusations because you can tell something is wrong.”

Rali’s smile agreed.

“As you are my closest friend, you know me better than anyone else. Including the fact that I am mere moments away from a critical breakdown in the most inconvenient location possible.” Oralia paused, giving herself time to string the final few pieces together in a way that made sense. At least she hoped so. Sense had lost most of its meaning as of late. “All of this is to keep me focused on you, and your paltry complaints, so that I do not venture too far into my own head.”

“Who? Me?” The smile broke and Rali’s lips contorted to a demeaning pout instead. “Nah, boss. I just like annoying you.”

The light of Briony’s lantern grew fainter. Unlike them, their faun escort refused to stop. She disappeared around a bend up ahead, taking the light with her.

While neither Oralia nor Rali needed the light to find their way, losing their guide would certainly prove disastrous. Oralia gazed fondly down at her friend for a split second more, before turning to follow the fading yellow light. “You are wrong, by the way,” she said to Rali from over her shoulder. “It was not my twin I discovered, but yours.”

“Afraid that’s not possible, boss.” Rali’s clomping footsteps started up again behind her. “I took care of her ages ago. Made it look like a baking accident.”

“How does one perish from a baking accident?”

“Two words: raw egg.”

“That explains absolutely nothing.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re not thinking creatively.”

And so they went, traveling the depths of the underground tunnel system beneath the village of Lonebrook, carrying on an increasingly absurd conversation to keep Oralia’s consuming dread at bay. It worked, too, right up until the point they reached the entrance and Oralia found Sascha pacing outside of the root cellar, anxiously awaiting her return.

Their eyes met and Oralia froze, torn between running to him and whipping back around and taking her chances with the tunnel. The dwarf at her back was making the latter option slightly less doable. Further proof that Rali’s choice in the lineup had not only been intentional, but served more than one purpose.

“Moonflower?” Sascha started towards her.

Oralia snapped from her trance and edged a tentative step forward. “Have you been waiting this whole time? You should have gone to bed.”

“Do you really expect me to be able to sleep at a time like this?”

No, but it certainly would have made Oralia’s return slightly easier. He’d been her driving force to return as quickly as possible and yet, having trekked all that way to see him, she still didn’t know what she was supposed to say.

Sascha’s worried gaze shifted from Oralia to Rali. A single look from the dwarf’s dirt-smudged face told him everything he needed to know.

Oralia was still trying to interpret Rali’s expression when Sascha made his move. He offered her both his arm and a bewitching smile. “Walk with me?”

Timidly, Oralia threaded her arm through his. Every muscle in her legs protested the idea of walking a single step further, but she persisted because the alternative meant laying everything out in front of everyone. At least this way she could ensure there was a sizable distance between them and the cottage before the hysterics began. Whether it’d be from her or Sascha, she did not yet know.

“You may have to drag me the way back,” Oralia said.

“As opposed to carrying you?”

“Dragging is more dignified.”

“Mhm,” Sascha replied in that sort of amused tone parents reserved for overdramatic toddlers. Perhaps it was good he was already so well versed at it, considering the news she was about to drop on him.

It was well past midnight. Traces of moonlight broke through the thick cloud coverage overhead, dotting the dark forest floor with scattered pools of pale light. The autumn breeze was crisp. It whispered softly overhead, stirring the remaining red and yellow leaves that stubbornly clung to the bare branches. The night was picturesque.

Much unlike the nauseous churning in Oralia’s gut that threatened to transform her insides to outsides. As much as she detested the walk, she also didn’t want it to end. Stopping meant talking and talking meant knowing what she was supposed to say.

And then the inevitable happened. Sascha led her to a fallen tree, bathed in patchy moonlight, and settled down. He thumped the top of the log in an unspoken invitation to join him.

Oralia remained standing. She tilted her chin skyward and closed her eyes, trying to calm the rampaging gallop of her heartbeat.

Good gods, what was she supposed to say?