The Fate of the Uremi

[Luka Gaumond]

“Good morning, detective.”

The aristocratic charm in the tone was a bit of an offset to the dilapidated abandoned flat Detective Julia Hassar found herself in. The walls were such a battered gray that it was impossible to know what color they once were painted, if they had ever been painted at all. A threadbare cot in the corner had a dirty quilt tossed over it haphazardly and stank of sweat and urine. A once wobbly chair was broken and flipped over on its side. The occupant that had once been seated in that chair was now on the floor, his blood pooled around him.

Julia gathered her patience to lift her gaze to the rakish professor who stood out like a sore thumb in the middle of her crime scene. He was meticulously groomed in a raffish manner that pretended he had merely woken with his floppy hair perfectly coiffed and his scruff only settled into the areas of his face that fit it best. He wore a cognac brown leather jacket over a striped shirt and a navy blue sweater vest. His tweed trousers dialed the outfit back from trendy to academic. He shone a wry half-smile at her as if he was oblivious to the dead body that she was crouched beside.

With a heavy exhale, Julia Hassar rose to her feet and stepped away from the forensic scientists to approach Professor Luka Gaumond. “Good morning, professor. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“Well, you always bring me such fascinating finds. I typically cannot resist. Though, this flat looks less than promising,” Gaumond replied doubtfully.

“Come over to here. It’s behind this blanket hanging on the wall,” Julia said as she carefully stepped around the crime scene towards the east facing wall. Five years before, Julia would never have believed there would be a time when she called Gaumond to consult on one of her cases. The professor of ancient religions had a way of stumbling into every case she was assigned involving the occult. Eventually, though, she’d realized that his knowledge was incredibly helpful in breaking open cases.

That was exactly why she was pulling back the blanket nailed to the wall to show him a charcoal drawing of rabid dogs fawning with their bellies flat at the foot of the throne of a bearded figure with a great crown on his head and arms too long to be human. One of this hands bore an odd looking jagged weapon.

“Fascinating,” Gaumond murmured as he took a step closer, taking care not to step in the blood puddle from the prone body which didn’t seem to warrant half the amount of his attention that the symbolism on the wall did.

“That’s not exactly the word I would use,” Julia murmured. “Do you know what it is?”

The professor answered the question without tearing his eyes from the drawing on the wall. “I’d say the figure on the throne is the East Semetic god Utu. That weapon -- a double-arched saw -- represents his role as the god of justice. But I don’t think that he is the focus of this drawing.”

“You don’t?” Julia asked.

“No,” Gaumond responded, motioning to the fawning dogs. “Look how much more detail there is given to the hounds. I think they are the focus. They are uridimmu -- howling dogs or gruesome hounds, depending on your translation. They were attendants of the god. Part of his army. Neither good nor evil, just faithful hounds who answer to their master which, in this case, is Utu.”

“Any idea how they may be connected to a Dockside thief who has been shot in the back of the head?” Julia asked, thumbing to the victim.

Gaumond’s eyes swept to the man on the ground before giving a shake of his head. “Not that I can think of, no. The uridimmu aren’t like some of the other monsters and demons you’ve had to deal with in the past. They might merely be a myth and if they are not a myth than they haven’t been seen in several millennia. Sometimes you will see them in stone relief decorating the doorways of churches or old family homes or guild halls. They are supposed to ward off evil spirits by being seen as trophies.”

“Like suggesting the people within are so badass that they could kill a uridimmu so ordinary bad guys and bad spirits should leave them be?” Julia asked, her brows lifting curiously.

“Exactly so. I cannot see how uridimmu would be involved,” Gaumond advised her with a wry smile and lift of his shoulders in a shrug.

Julia exhaled heavily and gave a nod. “So what I have here is an old-fashioned murder?”

“Yes, and with that realization my interest wanes, detective,” he replied with a wink. He rubbed his hands together for warmth and the distinctive silver ring on his right ring finger inlaid with runes caught Julia’s eye again. She’d asked him about it before and he’d always laughed off the question dismissively. He offered her a smile that seemed a bit apologetic over leaving her in such a place. “I have a lecture to give but I do hope to see you around soon.”

“If my poor luck holds out, professor, I will need your expertise again before the month is out,” Julia replied as her eyes swept over her crime scene. There was no shortage of occult related deaths in Rhydin.

“I look forward to the opportunity,” Gaumond called as he stepped out of the flat past the uniform officers at the door and into the hallway beyond.

[Mina]

“Thank you, ma’am.” The older gentleman lifted the little paper packet to Cosmina in parting.

“Come back if her cough gets worse,” she called after him. He half turned back to wave before disappearing into the crowd. Heaving a sigh, Mina settled down on the back steps of her vardo, giving her ring a twist. She didn’t even jump when a squirrel launched itself out of the caravan onto her shoulder; she just readjusted to accommodate its weight before reaching just inside the door for some crushed nuts to offer up to him.

“At least custom is steady, so we won’t need to worry about money for a while as long as we’re careful,” she remarked to the little guy on her shoulder, giving him a head scritch after he polished off his treat. It turned out that even in the land of a million magical healers and demigods, plenty of people still seemed interested in natural herbs for sleeping, tinctures to stop their husbands from snoring (or to make him last longer in bed--that one had made her blush to prepare), rubs to cure warts and rashes, and draughts to prolong their life or save their livers.

“Higher daddy. Higher papa. Higher!” a little girl shouted, prompting a laugh from the two men on either side of her. She jumped and they lifted her off the ground, each holding one of her mittened hands. Her shriek of delight played in Mina’s ears long after the happy family disappeared into the crowd just like the older gentleman returning home to his ailing granddaughter.

She gave her ring another spin, missing the Ardeleans even more. Right about now, a few of the younger men were likely stoking the fire at the center of camp or collecting more wood to throw on it throughout the night. The mothers were calling to their daughters for help to prepare the evening meal for their families while the babushkas held the babies, singing to them, and told the littlest ones stories. The air was thick with sparks and the deep purple of twilight.

And instead of being there where she belonged, Mina was stuck here on the crowded streets of RhyDin city: apart, alone, waiting.

Waiting for what though, she did not know. She had come to RhyDin with a higher purpose. The gods that her family had served for generations upon generations—the spirits of the forest—had summoned her here. They had need of her, but they had remained silent ever since she had arrived and the young woman was adrift. Where were the zână? Why would they not appear to her? Clearly, they were testing her patience and endurance. They were testing her dedication, so she could not give up. She would not.

The orange and pink of sunset was fading into a dark, bruised sky before she got up with another sigh. The squirrel chirped in protest, “I’m sorry, Bakalo. I have to go out.” She stepped into the vardo, setting the squirrel down on her bed before grabbing two more scarves to wrap around her shoulders. She paused to look over the map of RhyDin City stretched across her work bench. There were pins set into the neighborhoods she had visited in hopes of finding what she was looking for: a person, a sign, anything!

There were a lot of pins.

Back home, the spirits and fae did not often reveal themselves to mortals. On the streets of RhyDin, they seemed to flaunt their existence. Still, the Uremi had not appeared to her again no matter where she went. They were here though. They had to be! She just had to keep looking. “Maybe I’ll check this neighborhood one more time,” her finger hovered over a spot a few blocks over—Little Elfhame, Old Market. “What do you think?”

Bakalo chirped from his cozy position on her blanket.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Little Elfhame was known to be the home of many of the zână—the fair folk of legends and myths. Perhaps that is where Saria and the others were. She traced her finger along the runes of her ring, taking a deep breath. “All right. I will be back before too long. You’re in charge, okay?” With some reluctance, she stepped back outside, locking the door behind her this time and passing her hands over the wood a few times. “Spirits of my familia, keep this place safe.” Keep me safe as well, and please help me find what I’m looking for.

The holiday lights were starting to twinkle in windows and on trees when Mina stepped out into the still busy street to join the river of humanity, hoping it would deliver her to the right place.

[Luka Gaumond]

22 years prior
Gaumond Hall, north of Rhydin

Luka Gaumond was five years old. He liked creating detailed dioramas with his dinosaurs and journaling his constant nature escapades around the estate. He had floppy brown hair that his mother lamented already seemed too long the day after his father’s valet cut it and hazel eyes that his nanny lamented always sparkled with mischief. His pants often had holes in the knees and an assortment of odd findings in his pockets. He was rugged and tough and full of life.

Until his fifth winter. They had all believed it to be just a cold but he never got better. A hacking cough over took his lungs. The treatments the doctors tried never seemed to make a difference. He continued to get worse and worse, losing more and more of his strength.

Then one evening he woke in his bed damp with sweat and too weak to call out to ask for water for his parched throat. A strangled sob from somewhere in his room made him force his eyes open. It was his mother, he realized. His father wrapped her up in his arms and she buried her face into his chest. The expression on his face was stoic but aching.

“Surely something can be done?” His father’s ordinarily orotund voice cracked with emotion like a schoolboy.

Luka cracked open his eyes once more spotting a doctor and his grandmother in the room with his parents. The doctor shook his head. “There’s nothing more we can do. He has a day, maybe two. I am sorry.”

His mother’s legs seemed to give out beneath her and his grandmother spoke up. The matriarch of the Gaumond family was a quiet woman but one whose orders were followed to the letter when she spoke. “Doctor, Nigel, please take Eden to her room and give her something to settle her. I will sit with the boy for a while.”

Luka let his eyes drift shut as he heard the feet shuffle out. The door was closed behind the other three. His eyes fluttered open when he heard the lock to his door slide into place. It was then he realized that he had missed someone. Nanny Billie was in the room too. It was she who had slid the lock in place after a nod from his grandmother.

“Do you have everything we need?” Lady Iris Gaumond asked urgently of Billie. There was always a quiet understanding between them, Luka realized. Billie was in her early forties with gray beginning to color her braid of dark hair. She had told Luka that she had worked here since she was a girl. His Grandma Iris, twenty years Billie’s senior, had hired her years and years before just as Billie’s mother had been hired by his great-grandmother and Billie’s grandmother had been hired by his great-great-grandmother.

Billie had produced a tray from beneath the bed which she handed carefully over to Iris. “I will get the boy,” Billie murmured.

There were three goblets of wine on the tray and three little tea plates containing thick crusty country bread. Grandma Iris situated a goblet and a tea plate beside it in a circle with a big open space in the middle.

Luka felt Billie’s arms slide beneath him and he protested softly. His bones ached. He didn’t want to be moved. He felt Billie’s lips brush against his forehead as she lifted him from the bed. “I know my sweet boy,” she whispered, her voice thick with grief. “Be strong. Be strong. Be strong.”

Three times. Billie always said if it was really important it should be said three times. A first time because humans were rather stupid beings who do not listen well, a second time to be heard, and a third time for emphasis.

His arms wrapped around Billie’s neck and he closed his eyes as she carried him to the center of the circle, setting him down on the rug of his bedroom. The behavior was so odd but Luka was too weak to keep his eyes open to watch any longer. He heard the low hum of their voices as if they were chanting together.

He had nearly drifted back off curled up in a ball on his rug in the middle of his floor when a strange tense voice filled the room. “Why do you bring us here, woman?”

Luka forced his eyes open to see that suddenly a wild red haired woman was frowning at his grandmother. The stranger looked human and, yet, looked distinctly not human. Fae. Gaumond Hall was close enough to the Rhydin city limits for Luka to have heard plenty of stories of the fae. He struggled to sit up and realized that the red haired woman was not the only fae that had been summoned.

A gorgeous woman with sepia brown skin and long black box braids smiled over the lip of the goblet at him as she took a sip of the wine. As she pulled the goblet away, she gently admonished her grumpy friend. “Do not be so short-tempered, Tsarra. They offer us gifts of bread and wine. Partake and be patient.”

“We are so grateful you have come,” Grandma Iris spoke, her voice shaking.

The third woman had tawny skin, angular eyes, and wavy dark hair in a chin length bob. Her expression was unreadable. Her hands reached up to lay against her own chest as she spoke. “Blessings on you. I am Amara, the impartial. That is Saria, the good,” Amara said, extending her hands out towards the beautiful woman with the braids. “And this is Tsarra, the bad. We have many names but we prefer to be called the Uremi.”

“I am Iris and this is Billie and this here is Luka.” His grandmother motioned to him in the center of the rug and he felt all three sets of eyes turn on him.

“Luka, you said?” Tsarra asked sharply, her gaze on he boy on the rug becoming intent. “How can this be our Luka, sisters? He looks so weak.”

It hurt Luka’s pride. He’d once been the strongest boy of any boy he’d met and now he could hardly sit up and this woman with her crazy curls of red hair was calling him weak.

Saria set her goblet down and reached out to touch his shoulder. He felt a warmth slide through his body with her touch. It was soothing and gentle like when Billie or his mother sang him to sleep. “His heart is strong. His body is weakened by illness. He is our Luka.”

Amara didn’t smile but there was satisfaction in her gaze. “We have been waiting for you, Luka.”

Billie stood nearby with clasped hands, concern etched across her face. “Why have you been waiting for him? Did you know he would become sick?”

“No, dear lady,” Saria said, shifting her smile towards Billie. Gold thread intertwined in the braids sparkled despite the dim light of the room. “We have been told by the Powers Above Us that Luka would help save us in a time of great darkness.”

“It won’t matter unless we find the girl,” Tsarra grumped before pulling a piece of the bread off and stuffing it in her mouth.

Amara lifted a brow, shooting a glance at Tsarra. “And we have plenty of time to find her.” Her eyes turned back to Luka and she produced a ring from the folds of her robe. She set her hand out, palm up, silently requesting Luka’s hand. He placed his right hand within hers. He didn’t experience the warm comfort of Saria’s touch but, instead, the feeling of being seen. It was as if Amara could see into every corner and every crevice of his mind all at once.

A silver ring inlaid with runes was slid onto his right ring finger. It fit perfectly and glowed briefly as it settled into place. He reached up with his left hand, his fingers sliding over the runes. “He is never to take that ring off. That is the price we ask in saving his life,” Amara said.

“But he is a boy,” Iris broke in with a hint of panic in her voice. “That ring fits him now but he will grow.”

“And it will grow with him, of course,” Tsarra replied as she reached out for the hands of the other Uremi. Amara and Saria took each of her hands and then clasped theirs together as well. Tsarra exhaled slowly through pursed lips and then the three spoke as one.

“Heal his body, mind, and soul. We banish the illness that took control. No sickness dares us three. We speak these words to make it flee. Let it be done that it harm no one.”

Luka’s form felt heavy. He slid back to the rug, his eyes drifting shut. He wanted to keep looking at them. The three Uremi were so fascinating, each beautiful in their own way. But he felt the tug back to sleep. It pulled him under and demanded that he not refuse.

“He needs sleep but he shall be well when he awakes,” Saria said softly in her musical sotto voice. The three seemed to be fading out slowly, their forms becoming increasingly translucent. “Take good care of our boy, Iris and Billie. We shall return when it is time.”

Luka felt Billie’s arms slide beneath him once more to carry him back to bed.

[Mina]

17 years prior
The New Ardelean Forest; RhyDin

Midsummer Day was a joyous time, when the dark dappled green light of the forest was filtered through half a hundred different colored streamers hung from the trees and the whole clan of the Ardeleans gathered together from wherever they may have wandered to honor their gods and celebrate the longest day of the year.

The drinking had started at dawn along with the cooking. The dancing had started soon after that. By mid-morning, the festivities were in full tilt. The young men were challenging each other to drinking contests and games of strength. The young women were practicing the swirl of their hips, giggling as they made eyes at the young men, distracting them from their sport. Across the many campfires, the older men traded stories of days long gone with their grandchildren on their knees, freeing their wives to help prepare the feast for later. Over them all was a dais with three chairs on it. No one expected the Uremi to come, but they honored them just the same, leaving flowers and small gifts along the edge of the dais for each woman in the triad.

For little Mina, it was an extra special day because today she was turning five. She dashed about the forest clearing on chubby little legs, her wavy brown hair a mess behind her (she swore she didn’t know where her headscarf had gotten to), and her pale blue eyes alight. Clutched in her hand was a wand, a present from her papa. Around it was woven ribbons of many different colors and they streamed and flowed in the air as she waved the stick around. He told her it was magic, just like she was.

With the streamers flying behind her, Mina twirled around and in-between countless uncles and great aunts, cousins and second cousins, and made sure to steer clear of her two older sisters. They were big girls of eight and nine and didn’t want to be bothered with a baby like her anyway. She stayed away from her mother and grandmother too. Being yelled at for losing her headscarf so early in the day wasn’t any fun, and one of them might even take away the snappers in the pocket of her skirt. That was another present from papa, one she was saving for when the sun went down and there was dancing around the fire.

She practically ran into her bapa though, throwing her dimpled arms around the old man. “Bapa bapa!”

“Oh-ho! There’s my little one.” Her bapa was her hero, swinging her up into the air like the young man he was at heart and holding her in his arms.

“Look what papa got me!” she almost hit him in the face, giving her wand a hearty wave. “I can do magic with it.”

Cosmin looked into the soulful eyes of his five year old granddaughter, his namesake, and smiled despite the disquiet in his heart, “I believe you can, little one. And what kind of magic would you do first?”

“Make Viollca and Damara stop picking on me and pulling my hair!”

He laughed, “Now that would be magic indeed. But perhaps we should—”

Cosmin did not get to finish suggesting a way to deal with two bossy older sisters without cursing them. A ripple went through the crowd. The woods became reverentially silent, like the quiet only heard in churches where even nearby birdsong sounded out of place.

Up on the dais, the three seats were occupied.

In the center sat a woman with tawny skin, angular eyes, and wavy dark hair that fell in a bob to her chin. She studied the gifts laid out before her with disinterest. She was Amara, the impartial.

To her left sat Tsarra, her red hair cascading down her back. A sour expression curled her lips and she looked up and away from the many offerings left before her with disfavor. She was the bad.

And in the right seat was the most beautiful of them all. Her sepia brown skin was complimented by her onyx hair, curled in thick braid about her head. She was Saria, the good, and she smiled at the gifts and those gathered in the clearing.

“Dumnezeu sa fie cu noi,” the old man intoned under his breath. May god be with us.

“Bapa, what is it? Bapa, I want to see!”

Despite her protests, Cosmin put his granddaughter down. “Stay close to me, little one.”

She huffed but did not pull away. She could not. Her bapa’s hand was settled so firmly on her shoulder! Although she could not see what was happening, she could hear.

“We are the Uremi,” Amara stated.

“And we are grateful for your gifts and your service,” Saria spoke next.

“But we require a boon from you people,” Tsarra spoke last, her blunt manner killing all the joy that had sprung up in Mina’s heart upon hearing Saria speak for the first time.

The clearing was silent until one wizened old bubushka dared to ask, “What kind of boon, fair ladies?”

“A protector,” Amara stated.

“A warrior,” Tsarra corrected.

“A champion,” Saria finished.

A funny little thrill went through Mina’s body at their words, coupled with a tight feeling in her stomach. The kind of feeling she got when she did something wrong and knew her parents were going to yell at her. So focused on that feeling, she was not even aware of Saria’s approach until her grandfather’s hand tightened painfully on her shoulder.

“Little one,” the beautiful lady greeted her.

She dropped her magic wand in favor of clinging to her bapa’s pants, suddenly overcome by shyness. “Hello,” she whispered back.

“What is your name, dear one?”

“Cosmina. I’m named after my bapa.”

“Yes, I thought so.” When Saria smiled, it was like the sun came up and melted away all her fears. “Is it your birthday today, Cosmina?”

“Mmmhm. My papa got me this.” She abandoned her hold on her bapa’s leg, reaching down to retrieve her wand and show it to Saria.

“It is lovely. I have a birthday present for you as well, dear one. Will you accept it from me?”

Before Mina could open her mouth to eagerly respond, her bapa tugged her back. “We are very grateful for such kindness shown to our little Mina, my good lady, but what present could you possibly wish to give to her?”

“It is just a ring,” the lovely Uremi smiled at the girl’s bapa before kneeling down in front of Mina and offering out to her a solid silver ring covered in runes. “Will you take this, dear one? And will you help us when the time comes?”

Cosmin dared not offer any other protest and offend this goddess while Mina could not find it in her to refuse. When Saria spoke to her, when she smiled at her, she wanted to do anything she asked. Anything at all.

“Okay.” Without hesitation, she held out her hand and allowed the fae woman to slide it onto her right ring finger. “Will it let me do magic like my wand?”

“Yes, dear one. Magic and so much more.”

[Luka Gaumond]

Dark robed figures gathered in an empty warehouse in Dockside. Only moonlight shone through the high windows, creating shafts of light against the dirty floor. Rusty candelabras of varying heights and age littered the interior providing additional light from black candles that wept blood red wax.

Given the shadows created by the limited lighting and the dark cloaks, it was impossible to tell how many dark figures moved around the warehouse. However, it was certainly many. Their hoods masked their faces, their hands remain hidden in the great folds of fabric.

A deep male voice spoke silencing the whispers. “The thief is dead and we have the sigil.”

“L’Immolation will be pleased. Bring it forward to me.” It was a silvery female voice giving directions.

One of the shadowy figures huffed out a dark chuckle. “L’Immolation will only be pleased if we are successful in summoning the uridimmu.” The comment seemed to dial up the tension between the cloaked figures.

A torn page of an old book was thrust into the hands of the woman. She turned to an acolyte, handing over the document. The figure dropped to the floor, copying the sigil that was inked on the page he had been handed onto the floor of the warehouse in chalk. Another acolyte stepped forward with a small shallow vessel filled with very specific nefarious odds and ends, placing the vessel and one of the weeping candles in the center of the chalked sigil. With the items in place, the acolytes took a step back.

One of the acolytes gave a respectful nod to the woman. It was time to begin. The woman’s voice lifted, her arms stretched out.

Attenrobendum eos,
ad ligandum eos,
potiter eos,
coram me.

When her voice died away, there was an eerie silence that settled in. Then somewhere in the alleys surrounding the warehouse, hounds began to howl.

[Mina]

For the young woman from the insular Roma clan of the Ardeleans, the Winter Gala in Old Temple was unlike anything she had ever seen before. A light snow fell over the square, casting its magic on the already wonderful scene.

Vendors stalls lined the pathways with people plying their wares and goods: roasted nuts, mulled wine, goats milk soap, handmade pottery, glass ornaments, handknit scarves. One stall sold candles that smelled like peppermint candies. Another gave out vouchers for holiday hams. There were apple tarts and tasty cobblers, and a stall selling bottles of ale that held little fairies inside.

The RhyDin Eye spun slowly above the crowd, carrying couples around and around, providing privacy and a spectacular view of the city all at once. Families flocked to the double-decker carousel or the ice skating rink, their laughter and love as warm and radiant as the bonfires scattered throughout the grounds.

Mina was just a face in the crowd, pulling her jacket tight around her as she weaved through and around bodies, turning her face up now and then to let snowflakes land on her dark lashes. She stopped to admire the large tree at the center of the festival before approaching a vendor to purchase some roasted nuts with cinnamon and sugar on them, "Thank you." Then it was back to strolling the crowd, her pale blue-grey eyes scanning faces as if she was looking for someone.

Eventually, she came upon the Mad Fairy Winter Ale tent. "Make a..wish," she read slowly, brow furrowed. She ran her thumb over the ring on her right hand. She jingled her coin purse, "I think I've got just enough." And she stepped into the Red Orc Brewery tent where the Empress was signing bottles and taking pictures with people, fairies were flying around the ceiling, and there was a bar serving bottles of the Mad Fairy Winter Ale with drunken fairies inside. Mina went up to the counter, "Are there really fairies inside the bottles?"

The goblin running the counter at the moment laughed at her, "Not every bottle! Hehehe you best have good luck if you want one!" She took a deep breath, said a prayer, gave her ring a spin, and traded the last few of her precious coins for a bottle.

She held the bottle of Mad Fairy Ale up to the twinkling lights in the tent, trying to discern if it had a fairy inside as she walked away from the counter and back out into the night. She thought she may have seen one inside it. She opened the bottle carefully and out flew a very drunk fairy! It actually didn’t fly out. It pulled itself out slowly, tumbled over the side of the bottle, and then fluttered in the air. Mina held her breath a moment, watching the fairy, blissfully unaware that the bottle she was holding was empty. "Oh good lady," she finally addressed it in a hallowed whisper. "I have set you free, so if you please? Grant me this one wish: tell me where I may find the Uremi."

"Uremi? Ur-em-eeeeeee," it trilled. "Your en-e-me? Your enemy! Your enemy is that way!" the little fairy pointed towards the border between Old Temple and Dockside before taking off into the air, "Eeeeeee! I'm freeeee!"


Mina's mouth stood agape as the fairy just flew away. "That.. oh!" she stomped her leather boot on the snow covered ground, losing her patience. "That was not helpful!" she shouted at the sky.

The squirrel on her shoulder nuzzled her cheek as she lowered her head, ashamed at her outburst. "I'm just getting nowhere," she lamented into the mouth of her bottle of ale before taking a sip. It was empty. Of course it was. At least she resisted the urge to throw the bottle, depositing it in the nearest rubbish bin instead.

The Eye had called to Luka Gaumond all day. He couldn’t explain why. It wasn’t the type of event he would typically attend but as he grew closer, the glow, the noise, the energy drew him in. A hint of a half-smile formed as he closed in on the festivities. His hands, though gloved, were settled in the pockets of his black wool coat. He skirted along the vendors, walking at a path slow enough to take in their goods but not slow enough to be considered an interested buyer.

Somehow he failed to get past a vendor selling goat milk soap. The little old lady gave him a hard sale pitch. In the end, he forked over a bit of money and walked away tucking a small brown back into an inner pocket of his coat. His right hand ached suddenly and unexpectedly. He pulled his gloved hands out of his pockets to rub at the joints of the right hand with his left.

Dispirited, frustrated, and incredibly sober, Mina headed for one of the exits. There was something in the air of this place, but it remained elusive, out of reach. Like a word on the tip of her tongue. She stepped around a woman pushing two babies in a carriage, incidentally brushing up against Luka as she did so. "Sorry," she mumbled but kept walking, only glancing back after she'd gone a few feet because of the way goosebumps raced across her skin starting from her the tips of her fingers.

She had only let her eyes linger on the handsome professor for a few moments. Perhaps he was the one the fairy had pointed out to her--her enemy. She pulled her jacket tighter around her, unnerved, and disappeared into the crowd like magic.

Luka’s gaze followed after the woman until she disappeared. The moment he could no longer see her the ache in his right hand vanished. With the relief from the throbbing, though, came a hollow sensation in his chest. A hand reached up unconsciously to rub at it as if that would make the feeling disappear.

He stood there long after she'd disappeared into the crowd before he turned to head back for that vendor with the soap. The little old lady running the booth reminded him of his Billie. He could use a couple minutes of that after the unnerving encounter. He allowed himself to be swallowed up by the movement of the crowd just as she had been.

[Luka Gaumond]

On Sunday mornings, Luka walked past the many coffee houses that littered his New Haven neighborhood through the stone gates that ringed the Old City into the heart of the Old Market district. At one point certain streets of the Old Market district had started to slide into hard times with rickety signs hanging precariously from a single hinge and questionable massage parlors popping up next to equally questionable ‘designer’ retailers.

With the explosion in popularity of New Haven, retailers and residents alike had moved into the northern edges of Old Market. More and more ground was ceded to the newcomers as Old Market’s rustic charm was fully embraced.

It was, perhaps, a ridiculous walk but one Luka made religiously. Billie would tell him he should make a stop in one of the dozen churches he passed along the way (though, she’d probably eliminate at least three of the New Age ones) those Sunday mornings. Luka loved to watch that tension as new business owners and residents pushed out the more seedy elements or at least pressed them south.

Radical Ray’s Coffeehouse was always Luka’s destination. It had been an antique bicycle shop at one point and the words ‘Porter Brothers’ Bicycles’ were still visible in chipping paint above the door.

Luka stepped inside, his eyes scanning over the menu for the day. He placed his order with a pretty little blonde who smiled at him so much that he was left wondering if he’d perhaps known her in the biblical sense at one point or another.

With a cup of organic, free-trade coffee (which the baristas of Radical Ray’s often explained to him was very important), Luka turned from the counter to head for the door.

A man at a small round table had a newspaper sitting on the edge of his table as he enjoyed a banana muffin. The headline on the front page caught his eye. Dockside Man Killed By Pack of Wild Dogs. Howling dogs. Gruesome hounds. Uridummu? No. No, it couldn’t be.

Mina bustled in from the cold, a scarf wrapped around the lower part of her face but only partially taming her wild brown hair. After wasting her money on that stupid ale last night, she was trying to conserve heating fuel for her vardo. A cup of coffee was cheaper than a stack of wood, so she dashed into Radical Ray’s to warm up for a bit.

Pulling off her fingerless gloves and tucking them into the pocket of her patchwork coat, she approached the counter.

“Morning ma’am, what can I get you?” the blonde barista asked in a disinterested tone.

Mina pulled her scarf down, loosening it around her neck. “Can I just get a small coffee please?”

“Do you want the organic, free-trade blend?”

“What? No, no. Just the… the normal coffee.”

The girl shrugged and turned to the backbar to pour Mina a cup of normal coffee, handing it over a bit brusquely. “There you go ma’am.”

“Thanks.” She eyed the bit that had spilled onto the counter when the girl had handed it to her, but didn’t say anything. She just handed over her coins and stepped aside to the station with the cream and sugar on it. Desiring to drain as much warmth from the drink as she could, she didn’t dilute it with any cream but added a liberal amount of sugar to it. They rarely had a lot of sugar back home; it was a special treat that she gladly took advantage of now.

Luka tore his eyes away from the newspaper headline. An uneasy sense of dread seized him and he turned abruptly back towards the door just as the brunette was leaving the coffee bar. He never even saw her until he was colliding with her. On instinct, his free hand reached out to grab her elbow to keep from knocking her over.

Unfortunately, the gallant gesture meant she spilled her coffee all over him as she tried to steady herself. “Oh no! I’m so sorry.” She was trying to untangle herself from him and reach for napkins at the same time. It was only when she turned back that she saw who her victim was and froze, any other words of apology dying on her lips as a sudden pressure built in her chest.

Thankfully, the coffee spilled over the heavy layer of his coat, protecting his skin from the hot liquid. The coffee and the dry cleaning bill he would surely have were forgotten as he caught sight of her face. Her.

“What are you doing here?” It was an accusatory question and he had no idea why it spilled out of his mouth.

“Me?” her fiery temper rose to the occasion as a strange miasma of emotions broiled in her stomach. She crushed the napkins in her hand, “What are you doing here? You... you ruined my coffee!”

“Your coffee ruined my coat,” he replied flabbergasted. But there was that ache in his chest again. His right hand curled up into a fist to keep from reaching out to grab hers. She wasn’t safe. He had to make sure she was safe. Ridiculous

To fend it off, he brushed past her to head for the door.

She gaped after him, surprised by his reaction and appalled at her own. What was even more shocking was that she wanted to go after him. For a moment, just a moment, she hadn’t felt alone. When he had touched her elbow… no no, this was ridiculous. She had work to do. She didn’t have time to get moony or whatever over some guy with floppy hair.

Swallowing that absurd sense of yearning, she shoved the napkins she had collected into her empty coffee cup and threw it in the trash.

[Mina]

The Roma girl hadn't been to this particular bar yet, though something was pulling her there tonight. She kept getting stares at the other places she went lately for her tendency to sit and not drink. It wasn't that she didn't drink--although her mother's harsh words about not polluting her body dedicated to their gods often kept her from over indulging or indulging often--but she didn't want to waste the money on it. Custom had been better today though, so maybe she would think about it. For now, she unwound her scarf from about her face and hair as she came inside and drifted towards the hearth first to warm up.

"Hey there," Mallory flashed a smile at the brunette girl moving towards the hearth -- and another, for the girl awkwardly stomping her way in. "Any blue cocktails or blueberry ales are only six copper tonight -- and I'll read Fate for you," nodding to her cards and scrying bowl and smiling, "if you ask nicely."

She was just about to settle into a seat by the fire after a nod to Mallory in greeting when she heard the offer for a Fate reading. She hesitated and came forward to the bar instead under the guise of getting a drink. "Do you have anything warm and blue?"

"I read Fate through sacrifice -- or through trade with the dead," she offered another patron cryptically as she considered Mina's order... but paused to think for maybe half a second, before moving for a bottle. She came back with a bottle of Romulan spiced holiday ale -- which was a thing -- apparently -- and it gave off a hiss of heat, emitting steam as she twisted off the flashing cybernetic cap. Pouring a measure into a glass for Mina.

"Oh thank you. The blueberry ale sounded nice, but I really was dreaming of something warm. And maybe.. maybe a reading of my Fate." She added the latter request more quietly. Her people were not unfamiliar with such things, but RhyDin was different. She fished six coppers from her coin purse and then parted with one extra as a tip for Mallory.

"What would you like to know?" she asked Mina.

She took a sip of her ale, letting it warm her and soothe away her doubts. "If.. if I'm even supposed to be here, I guess." Every day that passed in RhyDin increased her uncertainty.

"Show me your left hand," she told Mina, clinically, "then your right." Acting as requested, Mina pulled off her fingerless gloves, tucking them away in the pockets of her patchwork coat, and held out her left hand, palm up, and then her right.

Mallory held up a hand to someone who had just stepped in, half greeting, half a call for patience, as she lowered her gaze to Mina's hands. Left first, then right.... then back to left. "Hm," she said, and tapped the woman's left ring finger once, a little sharply.

The unexpected sharpness had her flinching back, "Hey..." But it was more than that. Her chest felt tight again, and when she looked over her shoulder to see who Mallory had held her hand up to, she understood why. The guy with the floppy hair was there, the one she had bumped into at the winter festival and spilled her coffee on the other day. The one that seemed to be everywhere she was no matter where she went. Her pulse raced and she felt a little breathless as she quickly pulled both hands back away from the other woman, snagging her drink with her right. "Nevermind. I'm sorry to have bothered you," she told the witch while her eyes were on Luka. Not to be scared out of a warm drink again though--she was a champion of the Uremi for spirits’ sake!--she immediately made a retreat for the hearth.

She checked her hand, slowing down as she neared the hearth, trying to see if Mallory had drawn blood. What a foolish thing to do! It put her in a bad temper, but everything seemed to bother her when he was around. She sat down, careful not to spill her ale, and stared at the fire to try and regain her composure. The usually mild healer was flushed though, frustrated with herself and how easily her mood seemed to sour these days.

((Adapted from the Golden Perch 12/11/2018))

[Luka Gaumond]

After an unsettling weekend and two days of grading student exams, the flyer waiting for Luka in his mail slot when he returned home from work had thrilled him. The front of the flyer advertising a sort of bachelorette party at the Golden Perch Inn was intriguing but the message on the back was what had caused a huff of an excited chuckle. It was simple -- Your book is in.

He was dressed down for a change in a wool coat over a pair of jeans when he entered the Inn. Those jeans were well cut dark denim but they were jeans. As he stepped inside, he began peeling his gloves off his hands.

Quickly, he caught sight of Mallory behind the bar. She wasn’t easy to miss. Mallory held up a hand to Luka, half greeting, half a call for patience. Then he watched as her eyes dropped to the hand of a woman who was standing on the patron side of the bar.

The woman pulled away suddenly and he got a flash of her features. The smile that had been on his face faded rather quickly as he shoved his gloves in his pockets. Her. Again. That brunette seemed to be following him everywhere. It was entirely unsettling. As was the feeling that thrummed deep within his sternum.

He tried to ignore the ache in his chest as she moved towards the hearth. He forced himself not to follow.

Mallory also watched the woman retreat to the hearth... and then the man she fled from, eyes narrowing on the familiar form of Professor Gaumond with interest. She turned to dig Luka's book out of her backpack.

"Mallory. My favorite purveyor of relics. Congratulations, congratulations."

Mallory rubbed her thumb slowly over the same spot on her own ring finger where she'd struck the mystery woman, smearing blood from the tiny cut. With a little puff of steam, the blood was gone -- though she stopped by the sink to wash for good measure, leaving Luka's little book in her back pocket until she was done.

"Thank you, professor," she replied, and retrieved Amaris' piping cocoa from the clockwork brass burner where she'd placed it. "I'm... a ball of nerves," she said, then added, "but not as nervous as you should be, handling this." She held the little tome just out of reach -- MOST GROTESQUE DEMONES, it said on the cover in faded letters. "Do not open it here. And do not read it aloud. I don't want to lose another good customer to the Abyss," finally setting it down for him.

He laughed warmly as he scooped the book in, a prize position for sure. "Demons, I shall take. Marriage, you can keep."

She rolled her eyes at that... then flashed a smile between him and Eri, directing his gaze down the bar at the half-oni. "I'm keeping both. Is there anything you want me to keep an eye out for?" she asked him, moving down the bar to collect a few drinks.

Luka unbuttoned his coat, his eyes bouncing to the hearth before moving back to Mallory again. It seemed he was staying for a bit. His usual charmed expression becoming more serious. "The girl you were speaking to. Any idea who she is?"

Mallory's gaze ticked over to the hearth... then back to Luka. "You're getting a drink, right?" Information had a price.

"Must it be blue?" He asked Mallory but he was already pulling out coinage.

She shook her head as she started making an Old Fashioned. "Υποτίθεται ότι είναι εδώ. Η μοίρα της μου είπε." She is supposed to be here. Her fate told me. Then she pushed the glass over to him, and pointedly rubbed her left ring finger as she added, "Έχει χτυπήσει μια συμφωνία. Δεν ξέρω με ποιον." She has struck a bargain. I do not know with whom.

His brow lifted as he reached for the glass with his right hand, the silver ring inlaid with runes catching the light as he did. "That sounds more than a bit ominous. One day we must have a conversation about... puppies."

Mallory laughed at that, lowering her gaze as he reached for his drink, staring for a moment... then patted him on his right forearm and replied, "Είστε υποτιθέμενοι και εδώ." You are supposed to be here, too. As she withdrew her hand, it passed over the coins he'd left for her, and they vanished.

"Puppies. And maybe kittens." He murmured to Mallory, trying to throw off that unsettling feeling that the conversation left him with. He picked up his book, offering a nod to her. "Congratulations again and thank you for finding this." With that, there was nothing left to do but move towards the hearth, slowly and cautiously, with his tome in one hand and his drink in the other.

Mallory watched Luka move towards Mina, considering his back and hers and their dancing shadows in the strange blue firelight... then flashed a sudden wink at Eri and returned to her customers.

((Adapted from the Golden Perch 12/11/2018))

[Mina]

In her determination not to leave, Mina had pulled out some crocheting from one of the inner pockets of her coat and settled in before the fire. It looked for all the world like she was crocheting a tiny little hat. One only big enough for a doll.. or a squirrel. It was telling for anyone that knew her though--not that anyone here did--that she had to undo and redo several rows of stitches more than once in the last few minutes. She sighed, mumbling a curse in Romani, and undid another. The hat was looking very lopsided!

She knew Luka was coming closer without looking up; she could just feel his proximity somehow. Not willing to give him the time of day, she focused even harder on crocheting, but it was difficult when her hands were shaking so bad. She finally threw the little hat and crochet hook down in her lap and looked up at him with a look that clearly said, Well?

Perhaps it was fate, but a wild Taneth appeared at that moment (preventing Mina from being rude to Luka again) and leaned over to check out Mina. "What are you doing?"

If Luka's presence annoyed her, Taneth's startled her to the point where she jumped into the corner of the big armchair, clutching the crochet hook like a weapon and doing further damage to poor Bakalo's hat. The blonde was rather disarming though once she got a good look at her. "I... um, it's supposed to be a hat." She held it up.

Luka sunk to a seat in one of the armchairs across from Mina, setting his book on a side table nearby. The conversation with Taneth allowed him a moment to study Mina. His drink was lifted for a courage-enhancing swallow.

"Oh! Are you a hat maker, Taloola?" Her hands were on her knees as she looked at the hat.

"What? No? I mean, no,” she repeated more firmly, “I am not a hat maker and that's not my name."

"Are you sure?" She smiled at Mina. "You sure are cute."

She blushed, almost as if she wasn't sure, and reached for her tankard to take a long sip of ale. The warmth of the alcohol straightened her head out a bit. "Thank you, but I am very sure my name is not Taloola. It's Mina." She cast a glance aside at Luka at this admission and suddenly needed another sip of her drink.

"Mina is lovely. If you find a Taloola will you point her in my direction?" A glance to Luka. "I bet he thinks you are cute too." She blew a kiss then before she was up and looking around.

"I... sure." She replied helplessly, her blush deepening.

"Oh, and you smell good too. Want some cookies?" To Mina, though she was not looking at her as she sniffed the air.

Her name was Mina. Luka was so shoved off-center by the ache that he did not even have a reply in response for Taneth. He merely offered her a smile before letting his eyes slide back to Mina. He wasn't going to interrupt them but the number of questions he had was growing by the moment.

"No thank you, miss," she replied quietly, having found her manners in those moments of bashfulness and humility.

"You are welcome, Mina." Taneth smiled. Then she was up on tiptoes to follow a scent elsewhere.

And Mina was left with Luka, who she couldn't quite look at when she addressed him in that same quiet tone, "Are you following me?" The anger and frustration that seemed to rise to the surface so quickly in his presence was replaced by a sense of disquiet and anxiety.

"Am I following you?" The question shook him. Why would she ask that? Was she trying to throw him off. "You are following me."

"Why would I follow you?" She wasn't quite the meek little submissive girl, tilting her chin up in a sudden air of condescension.

"I do not know." It was a baffled reply. The ache in his chest was there again. He lifted his hand and slid it under his wool coat to rub at his chest over his button down shirt. "What are you?"

She looked at him, her guard momentarily brought down by his honest reply. She wanted to tell him--this handsome stranger--everything. More than she'd ever told anyone else. "I'm just a girl." The desire to tell him her whole life, thoughts, and dreams was short lived as her cheeks turned red and she was quickly shoving her hands back into her gloves, her unfinished squirrel-hat into a pocket of her coat, and standing. She had said too much even if she had said nothing at all. The simple wanting to say more shook her deeply.

"Mina." He rose to his feet, not merely out of habit. A panicked thud started in his chest. She wasn't safe. He had to keep her safe. "You cannot just leave."

She backed up a step, the chair she had been sitting on scratching against the floorboards. "Don't call me that. I don't know you. Just.. stay away from me, whoever you are." She stepped around the chair then to put it between them, not cognizant of the fact that she was far more afraid of the way she was feeling than she was of him.

He held his hands up, palms facing her in a gesture of innocence. "My experience suggests that running away is not going to solve matters."

"I'm not running away," she snapped defensively, but even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true. "Just stop following me. You don't know what you're getting into." With that final, vague warning, she moved cautiously for the door.

A heavy exhale was released and he dropped a low frustrated curse as she put distance between them. He didn't follow after her. He didn't want to frighten her anymore than she already was.

She wrapped her scarf around her hair and the lower half of her face, resisting the urge to look back and instead crossed her arms and clung tightly to herself as she stepped outside. It wasn’t worth looking back; she was the only person she could trust.

There was no Koine this time, just Mallory frowning and asking Luka, "What the fuck was all that?"

Luka reached for his book, turning to Mallory to lift his shoulders in a shrug as he moved back towards the bar. "I don't know. I keep running into that girl. Everywhere. And she makes me feel... I can't explain."

The disquiet in his heart was not a sensation he was going to be able to soothe easily tonight. He reassured himself that whatever unknown powers were directing this had brought them together three times so far. There would be a fourth.

((Adapted from the Golden Perch 12/11/2018))

[Luka Gaumond]

Luka sat before a stack of essays from one of his classes comparing the mythology of two ancient tablets of cuneiform from separate worlds. He had graded his way through only a small number of the essays and final grades were due by the end of the week. Motivation, though, was hard to come by.

Outside his window, a layer of fresh fallen snow coated the New Haven College common area. A couple of young students walked arm-in-arm huddled in their coats for warmth, their boots marring the otherwise untouched grounds. He was tempted to gather up the papers into his messenger bag and head to his apartment. But he knew he would no sooner concentrate on them there than he would here.

His mind was focused on a particular image -- the mystery brunette with her hauntingly pale blue eyes. Mina. He saw her constantly behind closed eyes. The frightened look on her face from the night before had shook him. She was afraid of him. He wasn’t sure why but he knew that he must change that. Immediately. But where would he find her? What would he say once he did? How did he change the narrative in her mind that he was somehow a threat that was stalking her?

His phone rang, tearing him from his concerns. He reached for it, hoping it was Billie. His childhood nanny remained at Gaumond Hall even though there was no one from the family left there. She was the last piece of that life and, at the moment, he needed a reminder of steadier times.

But ‘Gaumond Hall’ was not listed on the screen as he lifted it. Instead, it said ‘Det. Julia Hasser’. He accepted the call, dreading the news that she had.

“Good afternoon, detective.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone and Luka could hear footsteps as Julia distanced herself from the background conversation. “Professor Gaumond, I thought you said you were sure that these crazed dogs hadn’t been seen in thousands of years.”

“That’s exactly what I said. I said that unlike some of the other demons and monsters we have seen, I had no reason to believe the uridimmu were ever anything more than myths,” he replied as he reached for the next paper on the stack.

Julia gruffed a humorless laugh. “Well, tell that to the longshoreman here in Dockside who was evidently mauled to death around dawn this morning by a pack of rather large, wild looking dogs.”

Luka let the paper drop from his hands and exhaled heavily. Who would have summoned such long begone spirits? “I understand, detective. Text me the address where the body was found and I will check out the area.”

“Let me know what you find, professor.” And with that the call ended.

[Mina]

There was always a scent when someone summoned something evil. It was swampy and wet with an underlying odor of decomposition. The only way Luka knew how to describe it was that it smelled as if a saltwater bog leapt up and grabbed some small mammal to drown it within its muddy banks, not that he’d ever told anyone that.

Luka had realized early on that few smelled it. Maybe others would catch hints when in the same room. But Luka could smell it city blocks away.

The scent that lingered around that abandoned green warehouse was stronger than he had ever been exposed to before. He stood outside the unsuspecting place. It had clearly not been used in sometime. Decades perhaps. The roof looked terribly precarious and more windows were missing glass or had broken glass than were still in pristine shape. With a heavy exhale from between pursed lips, he tried to shift his breathing to his mouth to keep from being accosted by the stench.

The chalk sigil drawn into the floor of the warehouse drew him from across the vast empty space. It shone eerily in the dull gray afternoon light filtering in through those high windows. Bones, cedar ashes, and other nefarious bits littered the floor, evidence of what had once been in the now missing vessel in the middle of the floor. Blood red wax was dried in drops scattered across the room though the candles were now missing.

“For shit’s sake,” he murmured low under his breath.

He was only granted another few moments to observe the site before Mina--the very same mystery brunette with the pale blue eyes he had been thinking about earlier--came barreling through the door and shoved it shut behind her, throwing her weight back against it.

Something heavy slammed into it behind her, shaking the frame.

The girl was breathing heavily, blood streaming down one side of her face as she looked around wildly and spotted Luka. There was no time to be surprised or scared or conflicted. No time to even analyze the deep sense of relief she felt at seeing him. Instead, she gasped out words she would never have imagined saying just last night, “Help me!”

Luka turned from the sigil, his hazel eyes landing on Mina. He stretched out an arm to her, the sight of the blood on her face caused terror to shudder down his form. “Come here, Mina. I’ve got you. Come here.”

She shook her head and the door shuddered again, “I can’t. I can’t let them in.”

The uridimmu -- the gruesome hounds, the howling dogs -- were just outside the door. He could hear the gnashing of teeth and the excited whimpers. They were hunting. They were hunting her. Panic threatened but he pushed it off as he approached the door, forcing his mind to spin through his research.

“Fire,” he said as he moved to help her, pushing his weight against the door. “The uridimmu were vanquished by a great man, Marduk. He vanquished them with fire.”

Even in her fine leather boots, her feet had been struggling to find purchase against the concrete floor and she had begun to slip, her one ankle already badly twisted in the mad flight that had landed her in the warehouse to begin with. When Luka joined his strength to hers, she pushed back harder, closing the door more firmly against the snapping hounds. “Do you have matches? Something to start one?” She thought desperately of the box of matches sitting next to her little stove in the vardo and wanted to cry. This was not what she had envisioned serving her goddess to be like.

“Hey, hey. Calm down,” he murmured soothingly. Despite the fear that had gripped him, the idea of her being scared caused a flicker of reassuring calm to infiltrate his tone. He twisted to lean his back against the door, bracing with his feet against the snapping and banging on the other side. His hand reached into the inner pocket of his coat to pull a lighter out. He stretched it out over to her. “We let them in, light a fire, and then run?”

He hadn’t cast a spell, but his words and tone worked upon her as if he had. Her breathing evened out and she was able to suppress the blind panic that had set in when the first hound appeared. “We’ve got to time it right. When I say so, get behind me.” She grabbed the lighter with her right hand, wriggling to retrieve a handful of powder from one of the hidden pockets of her coat with her left. “Ready?”

“Behind you?” He gave a low growl, clearly not liking the idea of not being the one between her and the hounds. But she was the one with the lighter and the powder. He had to trust her. He did trust her, he found. Perhaps more than she trusted herself. Somehow he knew it was important to show her that. “I’m ready. You just give the word.”

She looked up into his hazel eyes, surprised, and then actually smiled despite the insanity of the situation. “Okay.” She looked down at the tools in her hand. Okay. This better work or they’d both be dead. Just then though she knew that it would work because she refused to let that happen.

Mina refused to let him down.

Pushing herself off the door, she sprang forward and turned around, her skirt swirling around her legs. She held the lighter aloft before flicking it on with her thumb, raising her left hand up with the powder in her palm.

“Now!” she shouted at him, trusting him to move when she said so, somehow knowing that he would.

Luka spun around behind her, setting a hand low on her back. He resisted the urge to curl his fingers into the fabric of her coat so he could yank her back away but he did leave the hand there so she would know he was there.

The door hinges cracked and splintered. The door opened and large, mangy dogs burst in, scrambling over one another in anticipation of the kill.

Her heart constricted in her chest in fear, which would have frozen her into inaction if it wasn’t for Luka’s steady presence at her back, his hand against her. With such an anchor, there was no need for hesitation. There was no longer fear.

She took a deep breath and blew across the palm of her hand, sending the powder into the flickering flame of the lighter.

And the world exploded with fire before them.

He could feel the flood of energy moving from him, combining with hers. The dogs howled in pain as they went up in the explosion. Now, his fingers did curl into her coat, pulling her back towards him. The front entrance was engulfed in flames. The heat was unbearable.

There. A side entrance. “Mina, we need to get out of here before this whole place goes up. Come on. They’re dying. They’re no threat anymore. Come on.”

She stared at the dying hounds, fascinated and horrified. She’d never seen her simple tricks do that before. Had never caused such destruction and death. She possibly would have stood there forever, fatigue and the heat making her head spin, but he was still with her: a steadying presence pulling her along, guiding her. She followed unhesitatingly but slowly at first until she found herself matching his pace even with the screaming of her ankle.

Flames leapt up around them, choking his lungs with a thick smoke that was settling in around them at an alarming rate. His arm swept around her waist, drawing her in through those last steps. He pushed hard on the rickety side door and it gave way with a groan. One minute they were faced with the oppressive heat and smoke and the next they were gulping great breaths of cold, fresh air as they limped towards safety.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her eyes still watering from the smoke and any further questions cut off by a coughing fit.

“Shh. Just breathe,” he soothed even as his own lungs ached. “My apartment in New Haven. You’ll be safe there.”

[Mina]

Luka Gaumond’s New Haven apartment was not the sort that seemed within the budget of a adjunct professor at a small magical arts college. Then again, neither was his wardrobe or his antiquity collection or his shelves of rare books. Professor Gaumond clearly had alternative streams of income.

Two spacious bedrooms sat side by side at the far end of the space and were separated from the door by a large, open common area. Exposed brick and worn wooden beams that seemed even older than the apartment building itself lended to the charm. Great arched windows looked down upon the quaint New Haven streets below and a gorgeous park across the street.

It was the absolute epitome of safe. Nothing bad could happen here. But, just in case it could, runes were chalked over the door frame warding off those who were not invited.

Luka unlocked the door of the apartment to help Mina in. “What happened to your ankle?” he asked quietly. A pale gray sectional was their destination.

She tried not to gape, a feat made easier by the fact that everything hurt, but she had never been anywhere so nice before. She wouldn’t have normally dared to sit on the couch, but the ankle in question hurt so bad by this point she gave in. “One of them got a hold of me, but I cut it with my knife,” she responded a bit absently, still dazed and now distracted by the apartment. “You live here?”

He shook off his coat, letting it fall to the floor, to sink to a seat beside her on the couch. His hands reached out for the battered ankle, lifting her foot gently into his lap. Sunlight caught on the silver ring on his finger as her began to remove her boot with as much care as could be managed. “I do. There is a spare room and you will stay there until we figure out what is going on here. Or you could continue to run away but that doesn’t seem to be working very well. This last time a pack of uridimmu chased you right to me. Perhaps you can simply stop running?”

“I’ll stay here?” she repeated incredulously, suddenly struggling to free her foot from his grasp. “I’m not staying here! I don’t even know you. I don’t even know your name. This is ridiculous! And I haven’t been running, I’ve just been…” her heated arguments died on her lips when she saw the ring. She could hear her pulse pounding in her ears. “I’ve just been looking for something,” she finished quietly, halting her struggle as she looked up from the ring and into his eyes again. Looking for someone. “Who are you?”

“Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself more.” He removed the boot, dumping it off to the side and setting her ankle up onto the couch. “My name is Professor Luka Gaumond. I’m a professor of ancient religions and mythology at New Haven College. I am no one important.”

“I’m a healer. It’ll be fine,” she argued absently but she also stopped struggling against his ministrations to her foot. “You’re a professor? Is that how you--”

“No, Mina. We gave him his ring, just as we gave you yours.”

Despite the wards around the apartment, the three Uremi stepped out of a golden circle that appeared on the wide-plank floorboards. It was Amara who had spoken, answering her question before she had even asked it.

Mina practically tore her foot away from Luca, scrambling from the couch and onto the floor where she knelt painfully, bowing her head to the three fae women. “My ladies, I am sorry I have failed you. I have been searching for you, but…”

“Shh little one,” Saria came forward, placing her hand gently on top of Mina’s head. “You have done well. You were never meant to find us.”

Luka stood behind Mina, his hand unconsciously lifting and remaining nearby. He didn’t touch her but he was there if she stumbled on that ankle. The women from his feverish memories standing before him had him wary. He’d poured over ancient books on these three in the two decades that had followed and, yet, they were still mostly mysteries.

That Mina knew them as well answered some questions in his mind but created a host of new ones.

“Tsarra, you look well,” Luka quipped to the sour-looking redhead who had not seemed to age a day.

Tsarra lifted a fiery brow, looking around his apartment with displeasure. “You are a right moron, Luka Gaumond. The heir to the great, enchanted Gaumond Hall and here you are living like a… like a proper human.” As reverential as she was trying to be, Mina lifted her head momentarily at that before lowering it again.

“Well, I am human,” Luka replied with a flick of an amused smile. He had questions. He had so many questions. But the exchange gave him a moment to try to organize them.

“We are short on time,” Amara, the impartial, reminded her sister-fae.

“Sadly so,” Saria agreed. “Yet there is so much we must tell you.”

“If only this one hadn’t been so stubborn,” Tsarra nodded her head towards Mina who flinched at the reproof. After all these years of waiting, training, to be called stubborn by her goddess.

Her head shot up and she looked at Tsarra, furious. “Stubborn? I have waited. I have been patient. I have…” she choked on her words, overcome by emotion, by all that she had lost and given up, but also aghast and ashamed that she had lost her temper yet again. “All for what?”

It was Saria that came to her aid again, holding out her hand to the girl. Mina took it and the fae helped her to her feet. “You have been very patient, dear one, and endured much. Now your wait is over. You have found each other as we intended.”

“As we needed you to,” Amara added. “Years ago we chose two champions, and here you are, united at last as disaster lurks on the horizon.”

“The hounds are dead. We defeated the uridimmu. Mina defeated the uridimmu,” Luka said, shooting a glance towards Tsarra with the final statement. A sliver of granite had sunk into his tone with those final words. The deference that Mina was showing the three was lacking in him and, for some reason, he could not stand the wild redhead fae speaking to Mina the way the fae spoke to him.

Tsarra tilted her head, shooting him a dark frown. “Even you are not that stupid, Luka. The uridimmu were summoned to serve a master. There are many layers to this puzzle. You have barely stepped into the entrance of the maze.”

That was exactly what it felt like to Luka. It was a dark night in a hedge maze without even moonlight to give them a hint to the direction they should head in. Down each path new terrors awaited. There was no assurance that they would reach the exit. His hand settled on Mina’s back, now for his own reassurance than for hers.

Mina somehow managed to hold her tongue this time, anchored in Luka’s steady presence once more. She did send a dark, hooded look towards Tsarra instead, rather than bitingly pointing out that it was Luka who had known how to defeat the uridimmu today. Her professor was not stupid. “Is this a test, then?”

“No, this is not a test,” Amara shook her head.

“We saw this calamity coming ages ago and prepared ourselves when you were chosen,” Saria explained.

“But chosen for what?” Mina persisted. “What is it that you need us to do? What’s going to happen? Who is causing this?”

“As I said, it is a puzzle,” Tsarra replied frostily. “If we knew what was to happen, we would not need foolish, mortal champions to assist us.”

“As it is, all we can see is a threat to our people. The fae are in trouble, our champions. The wheel of calamity has already begun to turn. You must work together to stop it.”

Their time was almost at an end already as the golden circle began to reform on the floorboards.

“I don’t understand…” Mina expressed miserably.

“Unsurprising,” Tsarra commented mercilessly as she and Amara stepped back into the circle.

Luka’s bottom jaw tightened at the single word from Tsarra but the look on Saria’s face as she stepped towards them rather than towards the circle stilled him. He’d been so focused on their words, so focused on Tsarra’s slights that he hadn’t truly taken a look at her. He’d forgotten how breathtakingly beautiful Saria was. Goodness and kindness oozed from her pores.

The forms of Tsarra and Amara had already disappeared from the circle as Saria lifted her hands. Her right hand settled against Mina’s cheek and her left lifted higher to Luka’s cheek. The touch was soothing. All the loud angry and confused thoughts in his head vanished into wisps. Saria smiled softly and affectionately at them.

“You two are more powerful together than you could ever imagine. Stay strong. Stay safe. Stay together.”

The golden circle had begun to pulse. Saria was out of time. Her hands fell from their cheeks and she stepped backwards into the circle, her warm, tender gaze remaining on them even as her form began to fade.

“Don’t--” Mina reached for her, trying to hold on to that feeling of goodness, of wholeness, of love, but the fae disappeared and they were left alone in Luka’s apartment. Her hands fell to her sides, curling into fists as a wave of exhaustion and emotions overwhelmed her once more. “I hate puzzles,” she whispered now that Tsarra couldn’t hear her.

His hand slid further around her back, almost gripping her in an one-armed hug to his side. The weight of what had been deposited on them was hefty and he could practically (or maybe he could actually) sense how much pain she was in. “Mina, there’s a tub in the connected bathroom in there. Go soak. I’ll order us some food. You can change into one of my shirts while we try to salvage your clothes. We will figure out what comes next. One step at a time.”

There was a moment when she actually leaned back into him, enjoying the contact, surrendering to the connection that fate had provided and that she needed. Then Luka opened his mouth. She pulled away from him, awkwardly off balance with only one boot on and her ankle injured. Tsarra was right, she was stubborn. “What? I can’t stay here. I don’t even know you! I have to go home.” Even if home was just a little vardo parked in the Marketplace where she was hopelessly alone.

He let his hand slide off of her. It lifted to rub at his forehead while he gathered his thoughts. When he finally trusted himself to speak, the hand fell back to his side. “We do not know if whomever or whatever summoned the uridimmu know that we are the champions of the Uremi. I’m going to assume that they probably do not or both of us would probably be dead by now. Chances are that they will find out soon. We are stronger together than we are apart. You heard Saria. Stay together.”

Damn him! She couldn’t argue with that, but the scowling curl of her lips said she didn’t like it, and the talk of death had scared her. “Fine, Professor Gaumond. I thank you for your hospitality. I will stay the night, but I do need to go home tomorrow. Even if it’s just for a little while,” she quickly added so as not to be accused of disobeying Saria again. “Bakalo will be worried about me.”

“Who is Bakalo?” The territorial note in his own voice led him to clear his throat as if that would make it go away.

She gave him a strange look, failing to recognize his tone for what it was. “My companion. He’s used to me being away for long periods of time, but by tomorrow he’ll be scratching at the walls if I don’t see him.” Although she bad been ordered into the bathroom to soak, she settled back down on the couch, weary in every sense of the word.

He remained on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest as he frowned down at her. What? That didn’t sound quite right. “Are we talking about a cat?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed. “Cats are fine and all, but Bakalo is better than ten cats. All squirrels are.”

Dear God. He stared at her for a moment -- this bloody, battered blue-eyed brunette sitting on his couch. “Go soak in the tub, Mina. Stay off your ankle. Tomorrow we will get your things and this… Bakalo.”

[Mina]

The next day, they finished their lunch of cold, leftover Chinese food (Mina didn’t trust the microwave) after a busy morning, and Luka was straightening up the apartment when a knock came on the door. He instantly turned into a boy, big strides taking him to the front door. He opened it and immediately drew the woman on the other side into a big hug.

She had short spiky gray hair and was dressed in a button down shirt tucked into a pair of jeans that showed off her lithe form. A bright smile was on her face as she hugged the man she had cared for as a boy tightly. “You are too thin, my Luka. Too thin.”

“Come in, come in,” Luka said as he drew her in, closing the door behind her.

Mina hovered in the background, following Luka halfway to the door before standing aside so as not to intrude on their meeting. She did discreetly look at Billie, observing her, and taking a liking to her immediately. So much so that when Billie came in, Mina didn’t even hesitate to step forward to be introduced to her.

Billie didn’t wait for an introduction. She stepped forward with her arms extended, reaching for Mina’s hands. Affection sprang across her face for the girl. “Oh, sweetheart. How lovely and strong you are. We always thought there would be another.”

Unlike how she ran from Luka (literally), she had nothing but the sweetest smile for Billie; she practically glowed under the compliments though had the grace to look somewhat bashful when she admitted, “I didn’t know… I never thought there might be someone else like me. But I am so glad to meet you! Luka has spoken so highly of you, and I can see why.”

“Luka, do you not have essays to grade?” Billie asked, glancing over her shoulder at him pointedly.

A smile flickered across his face as he drew the strap of Billie’s bag onto his shoulder. Luka’s eyes moved to Mina before giving a nod. “I do. I’ll be in the study if you need me.” He waited to make sure that Mina was fine with him stepping out before he left the room.

She watched after him, seemingly lost without him by her side after only a day, but then she looked back at Billie and was all smiles once more. “Would you like to sit? This is not my home, but I believe there is some fruit leftover from breakfast and I can make us tea.”

Billie was certain she knew her way around the kitchen better than Mina but she was even more certain that Mina needed to feel at home here in this space. Hosting a guest would help towards that goal. She took Mina’s arm and walked towards the kitchen with her. “Some tea sounds wonderful. The drive here from the Hall was chilly. You must tell me all about yourself. I’m so curious.”

It was easy to feel at ease with Billie, who reminded Mina of her bapa. They had a similar strength and liveliness, though her bapa was old and tired these days. Mina made sure Billie was comfortably seated at the kitchen island where she had eaten breakfast with Luka before bustling about the unfamiliar kitchen as best she could. “Is it very far from here?” she asked about the Hall, pretending she knew what it even was.

She put water to boil--relieved that Luka had a gas stove--and pulled a teapot and several packets of loose herbs from a box of things they had rescued from the vardo that morning. As the water boiled, she went about the familiar work of mixing herbs and spices together in the silver tea strainer that belonged to the pot. “I don’t know that there’s much to tell about me. My people live far north of here, though they’re originally from another land. I guess we’re pretty simple, but it’s nice there. Quiet. Very unlike this city.”

When the kettle whistled, Mina carefully filled the teapot, pouring the water over the strainer. Then she brought the kettle and two cups (she had only opened three cabinets before finding them) to Billie before remembering the fruit and bringing that out as well. Then she was ready to join her at the island, happy to get off her foot.

“So is Gaumond Hall and Fairfield Village. Quiet and simple. Just how I like it,” Billie replied after murmuring her gratitude. “How do you feel? This situation must be anything but simple and quiet.” There was just the slightest hint of sympathy in her voice.

“It’s a little overwhelming,” she admitted, unable to deny it to such a sympathetic listener. “I have been in the city a few weeks now, I felt this is where I was supposed to be, and I’ve been preparing for this my whole life, but…” She paused as she filled their tea cups from the pot, trying to find the words to describe the situation and finally just shaking her head, “This is not what I imagined.”

“What did you imagine?” Billie asked quietly, tipping her head to the side.

Her teeth bit down on her lower lip as she filtered through seventeen years of daydreams in countless hours spent alone. “It changed. Sometimes, I thought I would be a mortal fae knight like in the old tales, serving in a court underhill. Or I would be the messenger for the Uremi and bring them closer to my people again, ensuring that we live in harmony with their wishes. Or maybe their emissary, healing my people, caring for them, all in their name. But never this. This… this running from danger, facing some unknown enemy in a foreign place.”

“Our path is rarely what we expect it to be, hm?” It was said gently, watching the steam rise from their cups before lifting her eyes to Mina. “You did not mention it but it sounds as if you thought you would be facing these challenges alone. Is that true?”

She curled her hands around her cup, eyes downcast. “Yes. They never told me… well they never told me much of anything. But they left me alone for so long, I never imagined it wouldn’t continue that way.”

“Luka’s grandmother thought there might be another. She died a couple years later. Did he tell you I was his nanny? I stayed on as a companion to his mother after I was no longer needed as his nanny. You asked me how far Fairfield Village and Gaumond Hall were from here. It’s about an hour’s drive to the north. A lovely drive really.”

“Perhaps I passed by it on my travels south. We did not really speak of it though; there just seems to be so much to discuss.” There was still so much, but Mina did not press for details on Gaumond Hall. Not yet. “So you have been with Luka since he was a little boy?”

“Since the day he was born. He was a challenge. Mostly because he needs to understand how everything works around him. There was never any shortage of questions with him. I was not blessed with children of my own and he has always been… a little bit mine,” she replied with a distant smile as she lifted the cup to take a sip.

She couldn’t help her smile, listening to Billie talk of Luka. “He is your family. Where I am from, everyone has a part in raising the children, so even those who may not have had them are still blessed, and the children are blessed as well in that way. And you helped save his life, he said?”

“I helped his paternal grandmother summon the Uremi, yes,” she replied with a nod. Her smile turned a bit sad. “His father’s people… well, the Gaumonds are well steeped in magic. Those raised in the village like myself were raised to be respectful and wary of that. I knew nothing of what we were doing at the time. I merely followed the orders she gave. We knew that there would be a sacrifice. His grandmother had been hoping to be the one to make it but… unfortunately, it was Luka. A warrior for the fae was not what she had hoped for him. We told him, of course. I just don’t think he ever took us very seriously. It’s not that he thought we were lying, mind you. It’s just that he didn’t think that they would ever come collect on that favor.”

“I think… I think they would have chosen him anyway. I tried to explain to him, but Uremi, the fae, are not used to being denied what they want.

“In the end, they will always get their way.”

[Mina]

Billie had been full of sly looks and shrugs when Luka had asked how the shopping trip with Mina had gone. Billie, Mina, and Billie’s niece, Ava, had returned with several bags, laughing and carrying on so it seemed to be a good sign. They had immediately gone into Mina’s room and shut the door, closing Luka out of a portion of his own home.

It was a rather odd feeling. Women had taken over his apartment. He sat on his couch in his stocking feet nursing a bourbon to ease the feeling. The problem was that he wasn’t entirely sure he minded it.

Billie and Ava headed off well before it was time to leave, telling him Mina was finishing up and kissing his cheek. Billie was staying at Ava’s that night to watch her baby so Ava and her husband could have a night out. But Luka got the distinct feeling that Billie was making herself scarce.

Fifteen minutes before the appointed time he found himself in a navy blue suit with a burgundy tie and matching pocket square. How could he be so ridiculously nervous?

Mina was fidgeting with her earrings and straightening her black, lace-back, dress when she came out of the room. “Does it look okay?” She was occupied with looking down at her dress, trying to tuck any loose brown hairs up, but when she looked up at him, she smiled. “Oh, you look very nice.”

He caught himself holding his breath at the sight of her. It rushed out in a sudden exhale and he gave an absent nod. “You look…” There was the boyishness that Billie warned her lay under his layers of charm. “More than okay,” he finally said to complete the sentence.

“Thank you,” she blushed becomingly, touching her hair again. It was up in a low, intentionally loose chignon that left a few wisps of hair to frame her face. “I’m sorry if I’m making us late, but it took me longer to put it up than I thought. Oh! And my wrap. They said it was going to be cold.” She stepped back into her room to grab the black fur wrap, oddly okay with real fur, before coming right back out again. “I promise I won’t make us any later. Oh, but let me fix that.” She stepped closer to him to adjust his tie since it was just a little lopsided.

Before he realized what he was doing, his hand was landing at her waist as she stepped in to adjust his tie. Instead of immediately removing it, his fingers curled ever so slightly. “We’re not late. I have a tendency towards being significantly early.”

“Oh,” she said rather stupidly, staring up at him. He was so close, and why did she feel so breathless? “Can you.. can you help me with my wrap?”

“Yes, yes.” He swallowed hard, removing his hand to reach for the wrap. He held it open for her, helping her into its warm embrace. “Listen, Mina. If you want to come back home you just tell me, alright?”

“All right,” she agreed as she clasped it shut with a vintage brooch the ladies had picked out that day and turned to look back up at him with a smile, “I think I’ll be okay though. I promised I’d go with you; you should enjoy yourself as much as you want. And just so you know, I can dance.”

He sparked a bright smile as he offered his arm. The carefully packed and wrapped crate containing the wedding present was already in the backseat of his car. “I cannot wait for a dance.”

*****

After the ceremony was over, the professor was involved in an unsurprisingly been deep in a religious conversation with one of the friars who had conducted the affair. It had taken much longer than it should for him to realize that the lengthy, dense discussion was not one that Mina would probably enjoy. He politely excused himself after giving the friar his card so that the unfinished exchange could be completed over tea at a later date. "I am a horrible date, hm?" He asked of Mina as he guided her away.

Judging by the furrow in her brow, Mina had been listening and following the conversation to some extent, but she had not jumped in. She had accepted a glass of champagne from a passing server though, which she sipped at in-between gazing around. There was a lot to look at, but when Luka finished his conversation, her eyes were on him. "Oh no, no that was very interesting. And to be honest, I do not have much to compare to so that is in your favor at least," she grinned, teasing him.

He laughed, curling an arm around Mina's back as he led her towards the edge of the dance floor so that they could watch the newly married couple. "I am better company than a squirrel. At least give me that."

"Mmm," she apparently had to think about that a moment as they watched Eri and Mallory dance together for the first time, "maybe just a little. Though Bakalo has always proved a very sympathetic companion, he has never made me breakfast."

"Billie likes you. So does Ava. Did you have a good time today?" He asked the questions quietly to the woman at his side, keeping his eyes on the couple.

She tore her eyes from the couple and her focus on the music, that made her chest feel a bit tight, and smiled brightly at him. "I'm glad Billie likes me. She reminds me of my grandfather. One of those people who you just need to like you." She looked back to the brides. "And I did have fun. I haven't done anything like that in a very long time."

His hand slid in a circular motion on her lower back absently and he huffed out a soft chuckle. "How long do you think the quiet will last?" Before they were being chased again by something.

She shook her head, brow furrowing. "Not long. Especially if they figure out who we are and that we're working together now." She joined the cheering when the brides kissed before looking up at Luka with a silly grin. "I've always loved weddings, and that song was very beautiful."

He reluctantly removed his hand from Mina's back to clap before offering a smile down at her. "Well, I think we should enjoy this one to the fullest then, hm? Would you like to dance?" He swept a hand out in an offer.

"Certainly, sir. I would be honored." She set down her champagne glass so she could take his hand. Normally reserved in many ways, but the girl loved dancing.

He swept her into a playful twirl beneath his arm before pulling her in to set a pace in time with the music. The movement held all the familiarity that had been built through the shared drama of the last several days. "Tomorrow we are going to get a tree. A real Christmas tree. Have you ever done that before?"

They were meant to keep time with each other, and she followed his lead seamlessly, wishing she had on one of her normal skirts because it would have twirled so nicely. "You want to bring it right into your apartment? No! I've never done that. But I've seem them lit up in windows and along the street. They're beautiful."

"Right into my apartment," he confirmed. It was decided. He wanted to see her in the glow of the lights on the tree. He was so busy imagining that scene, he missed a look from Mallory. "When I was a boy there were a dozen trees in the Hall. It was incredible how lit up the Hall was. And the big balls. I wasn't allowed to attend, of course. But the smell of the food and the ladies in their dresses...?" He blamed Billie that Gaumond Hall was on his mind but it certainly had been over the last several days.

She liked to see him excited about something. It brought out that hidden boyishness that Billie had mentioned. "It sounds magical," then she laughed, "I mean, I know she said it is magical but still.. that sounds like a different kind of magic. And the tree will make your apartment smell like home. Do we get to hang little lights on it?"

"Definitely. We will have to get some ornaments as well." He replied as they moved around the dance floor without thought. His voice lowered to a confessional whisper. "My mother insisted on everything matching. I want ornaments that do not match at all."

She leaned in closer (not that she really could get too much closer) to admit, "I like it better when they don't match as well." Mina pulled back just a touch, "One of the trees in the park has blue lights all on it and it's my favorite."

He pressed a chaste kiss against her temple after a soft laugh as he pulled back away to draw her onto his arm when the music picked up. "Let's go get a little drunk on Mallory and Eri's dime. After all Mallory will certainly find enticing things to cause me to open up my wallet that much and more before the spring semester even starts."

"Are you sure you aren't the devil in disguise, Luka Gaumond? Tempting me so? I never get drunk." But by the mischievous grin on her face as they left the dance floor, that wasn't an objection.

Luka winked as he caught Eri's smile and then he slung an arm around Mina's waist to lead her off in the direction of the bar. "A devil? Certainly not. Haven't you heard? I'm a warrior."