Faris’s ears twitched as he sat up with a start. “You have a child?”

Rasp, lost in the memory, spoke with an unusually peaceful expression on his scarred face. “He’s perfect. Tiny, with a little tuft of hair and the biggest brown eyes you ever saw. It’s the middle of the night and we’re in the rocking chair by the window, watching the snow fall. His mother’s asleep in the bed across from us. She had a difficult birth, but she’s okay now. My brothers have all tiptoed in to say hello. Even Father comes by and tells me I finally did something right. For the next few weeks, life is the best it’s ever been.”

“You have a child?” Faris said again, this time louder. “He’s probably up at the Stoneclaw village right now and you’re just content to lie here and die?

Why aren’t you fighting to get back to him?”

“I visit with him often enough.”

“How?”

“Mother brings him with the rest of the flock sometimes.”

“. . . Oh.” Faris sank back down as the stiffness in his shoulders wilted. “Oh muck, I’m sorry.”

“He didn’t make it to spring. ‘Failure to thrive’ is what the healer called it. His mother couldn’t stand to look at me afterward. Said it was the curse that did it. She picked up and moved right after.” Rasp’s normally grating voice was as soft as a whisper. “He doesn’t remember who I am anymore. That’s the problem with coming back as a raven when you die so young. Having not been in your body long enough, the human part won’t stick. Probably for the best, really. One less person to disappoint.”

“Oh my gods, will you stop?” Rali said, wiping her grubby hands hastily under her eyes. “Even your happiest memory is horribly depressing.”

Rasp only shrugged. “You’re the one who asked.”

“Oralia, I know you don’t believe in happily ever after, but you’re going to have to give me something,” Rali said, still sniffling. “Make it up for all I care, but gods dammit, don’t mention any dead babies!”

Oralia was seated on the topmost step above Rali and Faris. Below, through the creeping dark and scattered rubble, she could see the black water was already halfway up the stairway and rising. Rather than draw attention to it, she reached under her chainmail and withdrew a tarnished flask from the hidden pocket sewn into her tunic. Ignoring the teary-eyed look of indignation from Rali, Oralia took a swig, wincing as the bite of peppercorn brandy worked through her sinuses. She slumped lower, sighing, “Sharing an eternity in a warm bed with Sascha sounds lovely about now.”

“Wait, hold up!” Rasp sat upright, pointing vaguely in her direction. “First of all, I smell booze. Give it here. We’re sharing. Secondly, you and the mountain are a thing? How is that possible? He’s so nice! And you, well you’re, ah . . . you.”

“Sascha tied you to a log,” Faris reminded him.

“Exactly! Had I shanked anyone else with a potato peeler, they would’ve kicked my skull in.”

Rali intercepted the flask on its way to Rasp and took a swig. With her pale face scrunched into a bitter grimace, she snarled, “Gods, this stuff is the worst! This is why you drink it, isn’t it? ’Cause you know even I’m not desperate enough to swipe it from you!” She took another fast slug with the same results as the first. Finished forcing the swallow down, she narrowed her red-rimmed eyes at Oralia accusingly. “Now, let’s circle back to that important bit. Are you finally admitting feelings for the fuckmate?”

“I said lovely, not in love.”

Rali fended off Rasp’s grabbing hands only to have her prize snatched from her clutches by Faris. Wiping the last of the moisture from her grime-coated cheeks, the dwarf turned back to Oralia and crossed her arms challengingly. “I say this as your friend who loves you. You’ve got to get over this personal hang-up of yours. Denying the existence of feelings does not make a person strong. True strength is acknowledging your emotions in spite of the possibility of rejection.”

“Gods, Rali,” Faris said. “That’s actually kind of insightful.”

“Well, obviously. I’m not just all drunk and disorderly. I have layers too, you know!”

Oralia tilted her head back and gazed up at the darkness that seemed to stretch endlessly overhead. It was not so much for the view as it was to avoid Rali’s withering glare. “Still not in love.”

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

“And you’re sticking with that?”

“Until the day I die.” Which, judging from the level of the steadily rising water, was not too far off.

“Fine, then your answer doesn’t count. You don’t get to settle for some mediocre afterlife just because it’s quiet. Try again. I want to hear your best memory. And you better make it a good one, or I’ll just annoy you until I can’t speak anymore on account of the water filling my lungs.”

“You said I could make it u—”

Rali clapped her hands to drown out Oralia’s protests. “I don’t care what I said before! I changed my mind. No made-up fantasies about warm beds and blankets and people you may or may not love. I want the real deal.”

Alas, from her lieutenant’s fixed expression, Oralia knew it would be pointless to argue. If this was their last moment together, she may as well make it worthwhile. “Winter Solstice Eve.” She plucked the flask from Rasp and threw her head back, finishing it in a single slug. It burned like liquid fire the whole way down. “That first year Curly joined the four.”

They’d gotten snowed-in in a remote village north of Sunstorn and had to spend the holiday trapped in a tiny cottage together. Curly, missing his family, was in the pits and could barely be roused out of bed. With nowhere to go, Oralia announced they would take the day off to celebrate.

Ellisar slipped out through one of the top windows of the cottage and came back lugging the top of a spruce down the stairs with her. The decorations were left to Oralia, who regrettably could not recall the steps required to fold the paper lanterns. In the end, most of them resembled crumpled snot tissues more closely than lanterns, but it was the thought that counted, surely. While Oralia cursed over bits of paper, Snag and Rali scrounged the pantry for whatever ingredients they could throw together for a last-minute feast. If she remembered correctly, the menu included such oddities as reconstituted pork strips with a side of apricot preserve, mushroom-and-pickle turnovers, and a host of intricate hors d’oeuvres that looked far prettier than they tasted.

A cough from Rali drew Oralia back to the present, reminding her that she was supposed to be saying all of this out loud. “The food was barely edible and my attempt to decorate was even worse. The only thing I remember being good was the apple cider. I was three cups in before I realized Snaglebrag spiked it.” After that, their quiet, awkward evening took a turn for the unexpected. Snag, to this day, declared his innocence, insisting it was one of the others who tampered with his cider. No one, naturally, ever came forward to claim responsibility.

“Gods, that was the only time any of us ever saw you absolutely smashed. You were so fun,” Rali laughed. “I convinced you to sing sea shanties with me, remember? You knew the harmony, but not the words, so we just made them up as we went.”

“And then you had us falling out of our chairs with your impressions.” Oralia had particularly enjoyed Rali’s impression of her, which involved a very thorough run-through of Oralia’s many facial expressions. The more memorable titles included ‘someone shut this idiot up,’ ‘I don’t care who designed the bodice, I’m not wearing it,’ and Oralia’s personal favorite, ‘for the love of gods, Ellisar, stop stealing the silverware.’

“Oh, and the presents! El gave us all presents. Do you remember that?”

“Yes. All items she had stolen from us over the years, returned and wrapped with sprigs of holly.” Oralia covered her face, surprised by her unexpected smile. “I got the key to my apartment. What did you get?”

“All the pages she’d ripped out of my books over the years. They were all the naughty bits, too. Story’s not the same without all those, you know.” Rali rolled her head back, groaning, “Oh my gods, the pipe. She gave Snag his pipe back and he played that wretched thing all night.”

Oralia peeked at Rali through her fingers. The smile on the dwarf’s rosy face was real, just like her own. “How did we get him to stop? I do not recall.”

“You plucked him from his chair, determined to teach him to dance. When Snag eventually escaped into the rafters, Ellisar cut in and the two of you waltzed for hours. I got Curly to twirl with me a few times, but we kept tripping over each other’s feet and ended up on the floor. Somehow it turned into a wrestling match.”

Outside the cottage was dark, but inside, by the light of the hearth, spirits were high. The smell of cinnamon and fresh spruce permeated the air. Oralia remembered the sounds of laughter, lots of slurred cursing, and filthy jokes, accentuated by the soft squeal of Snag’s pipe in the background. For the first time in many years, home felt a little closer. They’d done it for Curly. But now, sitting in the dark of a collapsed cavern with water steadily rising below, Oralia realized she’d needed it just as much as he had. There had never been time for family. And the game she played was too dangerous for friends. Her faithful four had somehow filled the void. She would be lucky to spend eternity with them.

“Is it too late to change my answer?” Rali said, lifting her head hopefully.

“I mean, if you don’t mind sharing it with me?”

“You are going to give up Mika Strongborn for us?”

“Eh, it was young love. Before I realized a full beard and shiny helm didn’t make up for a milquetoast personality.”

“Happy to have you, as always.”

“Gods almighty!” Rasp gagged. “Faris, is the water high enough for me to jump in yet? I’d rather get it over with than to listen to this heartfelt crap.”

“Will you shut up?” Faris said.

“I forget, you’re a sap for this cutesy family stuff, aren’t you?”

“No, I mean actually shut up. I think I hear something coming from the other side.” Faris jumped upright and signaled for the others to remain quiet. His next words seemed directed at Rali. “Permission to yell now? Or are you still concerned about spending the afterlife as a pancake?”

“Just try not to bring the whole mountain down.”

Faris cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Here! We’re in here!”

Oralia craned her head and listened. The digging grew louder until a significant clump of dirt and rubble fell away, allowing a shaft of light through. There was some muttered cursing as part of the hole caved back in. After a few more minutes of furious digging, the opening was large enough for a lithe figure to wriggle through. Dropping to his belly, their rescuer slid out onto the remaining strip of platform and peeked his head tentatively over the side.