Ailwin harbored a secret so big it could topple the kingdom. She did not mean to collect it. She did not wish to harbor it. But, were word to get out, it would mean the end of everything.

In that initial moment, she didn’t feel it. She didn’t feel the weight—the significance—of what she was seeing and hearing. It was nothing. It was just another moment in time. But as the hours bled into days that bled into weeks—as the threats were whispered into her ear, written on anonymous missives, carved into the ground on which she slept—she knew that what she carried in her head was far too dangerous, far too important, far too much for one woman to bear.

She quickly sought to abandon her life of adventuring, leaving behind friends. Leaving behind the love of her life. She settled in a small town on the outskirts of the kingdom, one in which nothing important ever happened and no one important ever visited. She took up residence in a charming little cottage. She befriended just enough people around town so as not to raise suspicion. And she buried the only proof of her secret under so many tons of water that there was no way anyone would ever find it.

On good days, she could almost forget it. She could almost believe she never harbored it at all. On bad days, it felt like a festering rot threatening to strangle her. She never knew which day she was going to have. She never knew when the secret would whisper to her, call to her, scream at her. It was a constant source of stress and struggle. Perhaps, by some luck or miracle or glimpse from the gods, she might be free of it one day.

The day he came to town was, unfortunately, not that day.

~~~

Warson was the last person Ailwin wanted to see when she opened her front door that late afternoon. Her younger half-brother had been her very best friend from the moment his tiny wailing form was placed gently in her arms. And yet now, his sudden presence brought only anxiety.

“What are you doing here?” Ailwin asked, breathless at the sight of her brother after so long a time apart.

“Wow,” Warson said, sarcasm dripping from his words. “What an excellent greeting from my dear, loving sister.”

Looking up at him was like looking into a taller, slimmer mirror. They had both taken after their elven father in beauty and natural grace. They shared the same reddish brown hair, pale green eyes, and relentless smattering of freckles dotting their otherwise pale skin. Warson was a full blooded elf, though, so he was taller and slimmer, with pointier ears. Ailwin had inherited her human mother’s shorter stature and wider frame. Even with their differences, there was no denying their relation.

Ailwin’s heart began to pound. “How did you find me? Why did you find me?”

Warson’s expression grew hard. “It’s Lark. He’s in trouble.”

Lark and Casda were their adventuring companions. Lark was a handsome human man known for getting himself into sticky situations. From the day he’d sealed a devil’s pact in a grab for power to every day after, his swaggering confidence—his foolish hubris—would get him punched, jailed, fined, yelled at, and more.

Ailwin sighed. “What is it this time? Did he mouth off to another king? Break the heart of another duchess? Or, I know, he finally found a dragon who’d share his bed and then he made the foolish mistake of kicking her out of it.” She smiled at her own cleverness until she saw the unchanging severity of Warson’s face.

“His heart has been stolen by a hag,” Warson said.

A fate as bad as death, and one that would likely lead to it. Ailwin felt her stomach begin to churn at the implications. “Why come to me about it?”

“Because of which hag it is,” Warson said.

The churning grew worse, like a veritable storm inside of her. “Tell me it’s not-”

“The hag of the Whispering Wood,” he finished, cutting her off.

A wave of panic surged inside of Ailwin, threatening to take her over like a tsunami devouring a shoreline. The hag of the Whispering Wood was a formidable hag. And the Whispering Wood itself was a problem. The hag was well known and well feared across the realm. She was also the entire reason Ailwin had stolen the item that led to the secret that caused her to flee from adventuring in the first place. The woods were enchanted to whisper the secrets of those who traversed it. In fact, one could not enter the woods unless they whispered a secret of their own first. It was all a problem—too many problems.

A large, green hand reached over and shoved Warson. “Idiot. I told you not to spring it on her. Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

Casda stepped into the doorway, filling it with his large frame. Ailwin gasped softly at the sight of the hulking half-orc. He was just as handsome as she remembered him. His black, wavy hair had grown a bit longer and curlier in their months apart, and he had some dark stubble lining his impressive jaw that she did not recall. He scowled at Warson before turning to smile at her around his large lower tusks. “Hello Ailwin.”

“Casda,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “Well met.”

“May we come inside?” he asked.

Ailwin stepped aside and waved her hand, granting him entrance. He ducked through the doorway and stepped gingerly into her front room. She watched as he spotted the cabinets filled with porcelain teapots. He stiffened, repositioning himself so he was nowhere near the breakable items. Once upon a time, he accidentally crushed a small floral teacup she carried. He never forgave himself for it. She never forgave herself for crying about it.

“Good grief, Win. Who decorated your cottage? A blind grandmother?” Warson asked as he also spotted the various teapots.

Ailwin glared at her brother. “I have never insulted you for your taste in things, and you’ve got plenty of poor taste.”

Warson held up his hands in surrender. Casda chuckled beside him, gently pushing the front door shut. He turned to Ailwin.

“Shall we sit? I don’t want to invite myself in any further if you’re not comfortable with it,” he said.

She smiled faintly. Casda was a beautiful enigma. He had the scars and muscles of a warrior, with the tenderness and sincerity of a poet. Seeing him again was simultaneously thrilling and nauseating, and that thoughtful comment was the exact sort of thing that stirred her feelings into a flurry.

“Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll make some tea,” Ailwin said.

She led them deeper into her small cottage. Casda and Warson followed, mindful of the open shelves adorned with porcelain pieces. They followed her through the treachery of the front room and into the danger of the kitchen. She pointed to a small wooden table with white lace doilies. They each pulled out matching wooden chairs and sat. Casda’s creaked beneath his weight.

“This cottage is so…” Casda paused, considering the floral patterns painted on the walls, the gauzy yellow drapes around the kitchen window, and the happy little tea cups decorating the shelves. “Dainty.”

“Can’t I be dainty?” Ailwin asked. She moved to the stove and started a pot of water.

“You were never dainty before. It’s probably what I liked best about you,” he said.

Ailwin turned away from him to hide her flushing cheeks. In her adventuring days, Ailwin was the rogue of the group. She sliced and diced her way through various monsters, and picked the pockets of every stuffy noble they had the misfortune of meeting. ‘Dainty’ would not have been her description for herself, either.

“I’ve put all of that behind me now,” she said.

“Right. And we’ve come to ask if you might put a bit of it in front of you again,” he said.

Ailwin cranked up the heat on the stove. She sighed over the teapot and turned back to Warson and Casda. “You know that I can’t. It’s not safe for any of us if I do.”

Casda gave her a patient, albeit tired, smile. Warson, on the other hand, just looked mad.

“Lark needs you. His life depends on you. How can you stand there and say it’s all behind you now that you know what’s become of him?” he asked.

Ailwin frowned. “You know it’s not that simple for me.”

To be fair, there was a great deal that they didn’t know. In keeping the kingdom-toppling secret, Ailwin had forged more of her own. The threats, some of which they saw but none of which they understood, had driven her to the brink of madness. She’d had nightmare after vicious nightmare about the deaths of her friends. She couldn’t eat. She couldn’t sleep. She grew so weak she could barely adventure at all. The weight of the knowledge she held threatened her life both figuratively and literally.

Her shortcomings began to threaten all of their lives so, after much deliberation, they all agreed it would be best for her to take a break. But because they didn’t know the extent of it, she couldn’t risk telling them and dragging them down with her. She left a note and slipped away in the middle of the night. She made it across the kingdom, found a quaint little town in a tiny bit of nowhere, and began working for an antiquities dealer. She rented the cottage and filled it with flowers and teapots and gauzy yellow curtains.

That they had gone to the trouble of tracking her down after almost a year had passed spoke to the depths of their desperation. Even so, it didn’t move her. Or at least…it couldn’t, for they could not share in her horrors.

“Look, we just need the comb to appease the hag. Tell us where you hid it and we’ll be on our way,” Casda said.

Ailwin shook her head slowly. “That’s not simple either.”

“Why not?” Warson asked. His tone was growing sharper.

“It’s not like I buried it and drew a map. I had to get rid of it. I…” Ailwin paused. The back of her neck prickled with sweat. She picked at the upper portion of her ear. Warson was going to yell when she finished that last sentence. She took a deep breath, bracing herself. “I threw it in the bottom of Stone Lake.”

“WHAT?!”

Warson’s cry was loud enough to rattle the empty tea cups in their saucers. Ailwin was certain she heard birds fleeing from nearby trees outside.

She shut her eyes tightly. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know you’d need it. I thought she’d forget about it. I thought getting rid of it would cure my nightmares.”

“Did it?” Casda asked, his voice soft and heartbreakingly hopeful.

“No,” Ailwin said. She began to slowly open her eyes. Her brother sat before her, hands laced in his hair, eyes blown wide open, back straight at attention. Casda sat beside him, slumped, frowning, disappointment pouring out of him more obviously than the steam that had begun shooting from the whistling teapot.

“Great. So you’ve condemned Lark for nothing then,” Warson muttered.

“That’s hardly fair. I had no idea that-”

“Oh, do stop!” Warson shouted, cutting her off. “You were selfish, Ailwin! You’ve always been selfish. I’ve never faulted you for it before, but this—oh, this is a new level. How can you possibly claim to believe a hag would forget something like the queen’s comb? Those are the words of a fool!”

“Alright,” Casda said, raising his voice in volume only. “Say any more and you’re liable to break her all over again.”

He rose and crossed the small space, stepping beside Ailwin. She froze and gasped as his large arm reached for the space beside her waist. Then, she heard the familiar click of the stove and the teapot’s whistle began to quiet. She felt a surge of disappointment as Casda proceeded to prep the tea.

“Come on, dearest sister. Have you replaced your heart with porcelain teapots? Or does some part of you still care about Lark?” Warson asked.

A sob began to build in Ailwin’s throat. Tears pressed on the backs of her eyes, threatening to leak out. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t. Her resolve had to remain strong, even if it meant risking Lark. To save him meant risking all of them, and she just wasn’t sure she could do it.

“Winnie,” Casda said. He was standing much too close to her. She could smell the sweat on his skin, mingled with the mint leaves he often rubbed on to try and mask it.  It was doing things to her mind and body—things she hadn’t experienced since before she’d stolen that blasted comb and it had stolen her life in return. “We’re not asking you to face this alone. We can get the comb back together, and we can save Lark. Whadda ya say? One more adventure for old time’s sake?”

“And for Lark’s sake,” Warson muttered from his spot at the table.

Ailwin looked between her brother and her friend. Desperation colored both of their expressions, but in different ways. Casda wore his desperation openly in the furrow of his brow and the forced, hopeful smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Warson wore his through the scowl on his face and the waves of anger wafting off of him.

“I will help you retrieve the comb, but that’s it. I will go no further than Stone Lake,” Ailwin said.

Casda grinned. Warson breathed a sigh of relief. Both men began praising her for her choice—her bravery.

Ailwin was a lot of things, but she was certain that she was not brave.

~~~

“I thought we were in a hurry,” Ailwin said as her brother motioned toward the only tavern in town.

“We are, but we need to stop here first,” he said.

Ailwin raised an eyebrow at him as she pulled at the laces of her leather armor. She was quite troubled to find her armor as uncomfortable as it now was. During her months of hiding, she had apparently grown a bit around her waist and thighs. Her body felt softer than it once did beneath the armor, and her daggers seemed odd and uncomfortable once strapped into their sheathes. She was rusty. This whole ordeal might just be the end of her.

“You two can wait here. I’ll only be a moment,” Warson said. He dashed into the tavern, leaving Ailwin and Casda alone.

Ailwin continued fiddling with her armor, less because she needed to and more because she wanted to avoid looking at Casda. He did not seem to have the same reservations. He cleared his throat.

“So, what sorts of things do you do around this town?” he asked.

She peeked up at him. He was smiling that same dazzlingly handsome smile he always gave her. It almost knocked the wind out of her.

“I found a job and I made a few friends. I started a garden, and a tea set collection, which you’ve already seen,” she said. She felt silly explaining these things to him. Frivolous, even. To have a home, even a small one, when she knew he spent most of his nights under the stars or in the cheap accommodations of city inns felt like a luxury. To have more possessions than she could carry in a pack, even if it wasn’t that much more, felt braggadocious. He was going to think her a fool—she just knew it.

“I saw your garden. The flowers were lovely, and the vegetables looked quite colorful,” he said.

Oh. Right. There wasn’t a cruel bone in Casda’s big, green body. How could she forget?

“Is Warson bidding a new lady friend farewell?” Ailwin asked.

Casda shook his head. “This town is mostly humans, is it not? He still prefers, uh, other kinds of women.”

Ailwin rolled her eyes. “Of course. ‘The less humanoid the better.’ Let me guess, it’s mostly infernals, orcs, and dragon bloods?”

Casda smirked. “Yes. And the orc part has me a bit offended. He tried to woo my sister not too long ago. I’ve never before wanted to hit someone when I wasn’t in the midst of battle.”

“No one would blame you for that,” she said.

“Sometimes I think he’s worse than Lark,” Casda stated.

“A high praise for Lark,” Ailwin said.

Casda flashed her a rueful smile. “And a cruel insult for Warson.”

It was a relief to find that even if her leathers and daggers felt uncomfortable, her conversation with Casda did not. He still fit like an old glove. Their easy banter continued until Warson reappeared, followed by a dwarven woman.

“Perhaps he has expanded his romantic horizons,” Ailwin said.

“No, that’s just Relsia,” Casda said.

“Who is Relsia?” she asked.

“She joined our party shortly after you left. We needed someone who could fit in small places and help with healing. She’s a dwarf and a cleric, so she’s naturally good at both of those things,” Casda said.

As Warson and Relsia got closer, Ailwin could see that Relsia was quite pretty. She had long, black braids that trailed below her shoulders, brown skin, and large brown eyes that almost leaned toward gold. Her frame was slimmer than Ailwin’s, a fact that only bothered Ailwin now that she’d felt how tight her armor had become. Relsia gave Ailwin a bright smile as they approached.

She was better at things Ailwin used to do. She was beautiful. In much the same way that Casda stirred feelings long unfelt, Relsia stirred an insecurity Ailwin wished she could drown in a lake. She had regretted plenty about how she left things with Casda. This particular development wasn’t helping.

“Well, I suppose it’s good you’ve replaced me so thoroughly,” Ailwin muttered.

Casda frowned. He leaned closer, his minty scent filling her nose once more. His breath was warm on her ear when he murmured, “Do not mistake my statement for some sort of insult. You are still very much wanted.”

Ailwin felt a small flutter in her stomach. She turned to look up at Casda, who still stood quite near her side, and saw that he was already smiling at Warson and Relsia.

“Are we ready?” Casda asked.

“We are,” Relsia said. She turned her gaze to Ailwin. “You must be the famed Ailwin, sister of Warson. I’ve heard lots about you. It’s nice to finally have a face for the name.”

Ailwin rubbed at the back of her neck. “I can’t say I’ve heard much about you, but it’s nice to meet you.”

Relsia grinned.

The foursome made their way out of town and down the long, winding trail that led into the northern woods. The sun was starting to set, and there was an orange glow about the air. A warm breeze blew Ailwin’s loose hair over her shoulder and into her face. Casda chuckled as he tucked a strand behind her ear. His faint smile felt as warm and golden as the sunset. Ailwin’s face grew hot under his gaze and she turned her attention back to the surrounding woods.

“So, what’s our plan for Stone Lake?” she asked.

“I’ll move the water and you’ll grab the comb,” Warson said.

He spoke as if it were a simple task. Stone Lake was enchanted. The water there was as heavy as stone, and heavier still the deeper it got. There were no creatures living in that water. There was no swimming or fishing or boating. Most people visited for the novelty of it. The ability to brag about walking upon water or tell an extraordinary tale was motivation enough.

There were also rumors of various treasures scattered throughout the lake. Many adventurers had come and gone, had successfully moved the water, had been crushed by it, or had barely managed to make it out with a few items of note. Ailwin had only been there one other time, and only to dispose of the comb they now sought. While she was certainly no expert on the lake, she remembered the effort she had to expend in just sinking the thing. Exhuming it felt next to impossible.

“You are aware of the water’s properties, yes?” Ailwin asked.

“Of course. I don’t live under a rock,” Warson said.

“Then you know you can’t simply move the water like you would at a regular lake. You’re a very impressive druid, but it’ll take more than some water magic to get the job done,” she said.

“My plan, dearest sister, is to move the water the way I move rock,” he said, sounding a bit annoyed. “I can’t be certain it will work but it’s worth a try.”

“And for a backup plan?” she asked.

Warson huffed. He shot a harsh look in Ailwin’s direction. “Have you no faith in me?”

“You’re not the problem, Warson. That lake is not to be trifled with. We should spend this time devising a few extra plans in case your first one doesn’t work. We are talking about Lark’s life, after all,” she said, giving him a stern look.

He seemed to soften at that. He said no more, but he nodded slightly.

Relsia perked up. “Perhaps Casda can push the water out of the way. You’re very strong—probably the strongest man I know.”

Ailwin felt a bit queasy upon hearing the compliment. Casda merely chuckled in response.

“That’s flattering, but I’m certain there are stronger people out there. You don’t know everyone, after all,” Casda said.

“Oh, but I know enough to know you’re very impressive,” Relsia said.

Ailwin found herself clutching the straps of her pack and slowing her pace a bit. She didn’t wish to walk in the middle of them while they flirted. It wasn’t unusual for her to either take the lead or bring up the rear when traveling with the group. It was unlikely that anyone would notice her slipping back into old habits.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever moved more than a few smaller boulders,” Casda said. “I suppose it’s technically an option, if we can find a way to keep the water displaced. I fear it might just crash back down on me.”

“If anyone can muscle their way through it, I’m sure it’s you,” Relsia said.

This back-and-forth continued far longer than Ailwin thought necessary. She slipped further and further behind the group. The light had turned from orange to blue, and as dusk set in around them, it became even easier to disappear into the shadows. She needed space to sort out a real plan, one that would ensure their success and grant her a quick departure.

The more time she spent on the road, the more the threat of discovery grew. She hadn’t been threatened in months. Ever since she settled down in that cottage, it was as if the hounds chasing her had been called off. There were no notes, no signs, no indication that whomever was after her was even aware of her presence anymore. That, she knew, could all come crumbling down in a matter of seconds if she wasn’t careful.

To sink the comb in Stone Lake, Ailwin had to make it heavier than the water but not so heavy that she couldn’t lift it. It was a difficult balance and she spent a great deal of time on it, almost a whole day. It was the first thing she did upon leaving her party. By the time she finally managed to find that perfect weight, it was getting dark. She wasn’t even sure she knew which part of the lake she’d thrown the comb into.

Perhaps they could build a sort of dam within the lake. Casda and Warson could use their various skills to shift a bunch of heavy rocks around the area with the comb, and that might give them enough time to grab it while the water was displaced. If that didn’t work, Warson might be able to shift into a snake’s form. If he moved fast enough, he could slip through the water and snatch the comb. Though that didn’t account for the extra weight in the deeper parts of the water.

The more she thought about it, the more impossible the task seemed. Perhaps Relsia could pray to whatever deity she followed that Warson’s original plan would work.

“Winnie?” Warson called, grabbing her attention.

Ailwin stepped out of the shadows and into the small clearing the others had stopped in.

Warson smiled faintly. “There you are. Thought you might’ve run off for a second there. Is everything alright?”

“I’m not sure we can do this. Is there a way to save Lark without the comb?” she asked.

The other three exchanged looks. When they turned back to Ailwin, she could see in the bright light of the moon that they were confused.

“We’ve already formulated two other plans. Weren’t you listening?” Warson asked.

Ailwin flushed and was immediately grateful for the time of day. The moonlight could hide it far better than daylight could’ve. “I guess I got a little…distracted.” She found her eyes shifting to Casda, only to quickly look away when she met his gaze.

Casda shuffled a bit. “Let’s set up camp. This is as good a spot as any. Perhaps a bit less coverage than the trees, but the flat ground will be easier to sleep on.”

They got to work. Making camp was like singing an old song. Ailwin hadn’t planned on leaving her cottage—maybe ever—and certainly hadn’t planned on returning to the life of an adventurer. But so far everything was…normal. Easy. Familiar. She unrolled her pack, helped Warson build a fire, and gathered nearby twigs and sticks with practiced ease.

It wasn’t until they were readying to cook and Casda took Ailwin by the elbow that she felt anything unusual. He led her to the far side of the clearing and lowered his voice.

“Ailwin…are you alright?” he asked.

“More or less,” she said, shrugging.

“This must be scary for you. If it’s too much, please say something,” he said.

A warmth grew inside of her. Casda was always so kind. “I will. Thank you.”

“Are you going to be alright sleeping out here?” he asked. “I can keep my bedroll next to yours, if that would help.”

A flutter replaced the warmth. It would not help, but the offer was thoughtful anyway. “Thank you, but that’s alright. I’ll sleep next to Warson and I’m sure that’ll be help enough.”

He nodded, but his expression was still locked in concern.

“Is there more you want to ask me?” Ailwin asked.

His face flashed with a complicated mishmash of emotions. She grew a bit nervous at the sight. She had always admired Casda. From their first meeting, where he helped her safely move a fallen tree from an injured Warson, to the last time she saw him, when she left him peacefully sleeping in that old inn, her admiration never once wavered. Somewhere along the line, it occurred to her that she loved him. She often wondered if his easy smiles and friendly glances meant he felt the same. But she was afraid to ask. It felt easier to live in the fluttery in between.

She wanted to tell him after she stole the comb, but it felt far too selfish. He didn’t know the danger she faced. She wasn’t even sure she fully knew. But to risk him would’ve been far crueler than inflicting heartbreak, assuming his heart was hers to break. She hoped to the gods above that whatever he might say next would have nothing to do with any of that.

“Now’s not the time. But promise me we’ll have a proper talk when this is all over,” he said.

“You’ll have to come back to my cottage for that,” she said.

“Should be a bit easier now that I know where it is,” he said, smirking. “Do we have a deal?”

She extended her hand toward him. “We do. I promise.”

He gave her hand a shake before lifting it to his mouth and placing a small kiss upon her knuckles. “Please don’t break it.”

~~~

The morning brought a cool breeze and a hot sun. They ate, packed up, and continued their journey to Stone Lake. They arrived by mid afternoon, just when the sun was reaching its zenith.

Stone Lake was large and very pretty. It sat among the small peaks of a mountain range in its infancy. The shoreline around the lake was, unsurprisingly, made almost entirely of rocks. The water itself was still and it perfectly reflected the dips and curves of the short mountain range. Pine trees stretched up and toward the lake, ending around the rocky shoreline. Swallows and finches flitted through the trees, soaring and dipping to catch the bugs buzzing around the water’s surface. Bugs were, apparently, the only living things that seemed to benefit from the heavy, enchanted water.

“Alright. Where did you throw the comb?” Warson asked, turning to Ailwin.

She squinted as she scanned the shoreline, looking for familiar landmarks. She had previously approached Stone Lake from a different direction, but she wasn’t entirely sure she could remember which direction it had been.

“I, uh, I’m not sure,” she said. “I know I came at the lake from the west, so probably somewhere off of that bank.” She pointed toward the western bank, scanning it as the others looked. There were a few large, striated boulders placed on top of each other. She recognized them. “Definitely on that side,” she said, marching forward.

The others followed without comment. They made their way across the rocky beach, occasionally slipping on the rocks. As they passed the striated boulders, the landscape began to look more familiar to Ailwin. She felt her confidence growing as she continued forward, stopping when she spotted a split tree she had recalled leaning against ten months ago.

“I think I worked here. I put the comb in a bag and filled with rocks. It took me a while to make it heavy enough to sink but light enough for me to haul it into the water. It landed a good ways off, maybe about 10 or 15 paces,” she said. She turned to examine the placid lake. That, unfortunately, offered no helpful landmarks.

“We can walk on it, right?” Relsia asked.

“So they say,” Warson said.

Casda took a few caution steps onto the water. It shifted and rippled with his movement, but he stayed on top of it, like one might on frozen water. “Seems sturdy enough.”

“What did the bag look like? Perhaps we can spot it from above,” Warson said.

Ailwin shrugged. “I don’t know. Brown. It was something I picked up on the way. I didn’t pay all that much attention to it.”

Warson huffed a sigh. “You spent all this time finding the exact right amount of rocks to put in it, but you didn’t get a good look at the bag? Come on, Win. Give us something to work with here.”

“I’m trying, but it’s been ten months! How much do you remember from ten months ago?” Ailwin asked, growing defensive.

“Enough to know you should’ve given us the comb before you left,” Warson muttered.

“Will you be nice to your sister? We don’t have time for fighting,” Casda said. He walked back onto the shore and held his hand out to Ailwin. “Let’s look for it together.”

She nodded and walked toward him, taking his hand. His skin was tough and calloused, but also warm. He helped her over the last bit of rocky shoreline and led her onto the hard, rippling water. Relsia stepped out on the lake a bit further down and began looking into the water. After a bit more grumbling, Warson followed as well.

“Do you know about how big the bag was?” Casda asked, his voice quiet and gentle.

“A bit smaller than my pack. It was an adventuring pack, I believe. I wanted something big enough to hold the weight it would need to sink,” Ailwin said.

Casda nodded as he peered beneath him. “So it’s probably a brown or gray color, then?”

“That sounds right,” she said.

Casda chuckled. “It’s too bad you couldn’t pick something a bit more conspicuous.”

“I didn’t know this was going to happen,” Ailwin said. Casda’s hand began to feel a bit too warm. She tried to wriggle free.

He tightened his grip. “Don’t let go yet,” he whispered. “Please.”

Ailwin glanced at him. He was still looking into the water. His cheeks seemed a bit flushed and his brow was furrowed with embarrassment. She turned her eyes back to the water, giving his hand a light squeeze. She could swear she saw his shoulders relax in her peripheral vision.

“I think there’s a glowing dagger over here,” Relsia called.

“Yeah, and there’s a shield over here,” Warson called back.

“That sounds about right,” Ailwin said.

Casda froze. Ailwin was too focused on the lake beneath her to notice. She walked right into him but he barely moved from the impact.

“Look there,” he said, pointing to something beneath them. “Does that rock look like a pack to you?”

Ailwin followed his finger and looked around. She saw rocks, rocks, and—there it was! A rock that was definitely a bag! “Yes! I think that’s it!”

“You found it?” Relsia asked.

“You found it?” Warson cried.

They both joined Ailwin and Casda, looking and spotting the bag for themselves.

“Are you sure that’s it?” Warson asked.

Ailwin shrugged. “I mean, I think it is. I could be wrong, though.”

“Try to be sure,” Warson said.

Ailwin scowled at her younger brother. He could be very irritating. “Do you want me to lie and say that I’m sure when I’m not?”

Warson considered her for a beat. “Yes. Though I suppose you shouldn’t. Well, if that’s really it, I guess I’ll try to move the water.”

He was, to everyone’s surprise and delight, successful at parting the water and creating a sizable tunnel down to the bottom of the lake. Casda, Ailwin, and Relsia all leaned over the edge of the hole, looking down at the damp ground beneath them.

“How are we getting down there?” Ailwin asked.

Relsia removed a length of rope from her pack. She handed it to Casda. “Lower me?”

“No!” Ailwin exclaimed.

Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at her, confusion clear within each of them.

“No?” Casda asked.

Ailwin stepped forward. She held out her to Relsia and, when Relsia just stared at it, she took the rope. “Lower me. This is my mistake. I’ll take the risk.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Relsia said.

“I do. It’s my fault we’re even here,” Ailwin said.

Relsia gave her a sideways glance. “But Lark is our friend.” Her brown eyes grew wide as Ailwin gasped. “Hold on. That came out wrong.”

Ailwin glared at her. “You should be happy to have me out of the way if I get crushed.” She tied the end of the rope around her waist, wrapped some more around one arm, and looked at Casda. “Lower me.”

He gave her a stern look. “I don’t know about this, Win.”

“Fine. Then I guess I’ll just jump.”

“Don’t!” he shouted, holding up a hand to stop her. “I’ll lower you. Take your time. Don’t let go of the rope.” He turned to look at Relsia. “Make sure Warson keeps his concentration.”

She nodded and turned to Warson. Ailwin stepped to the edge of the pit now sitting in the middle of the lake. Casda stepped up beside her, tightening her knot and adding a few more. He took her shoulder in his hand.

“You promised we’d talk later. You have to keep that promise,” he said.

With a small smile, Ailwin said, “I’ll keep it.”

Then, she stepped closer to the edge. With a final confirmation from Casda, she tipped herself over and repelled down into the hole. The hard edges of the exposed lake water rippled with each press of her foot. As she got deeper, the light grew dimmer and the lake around her darkened. She reached the bottom, landing on her knees, and stood with wet spots muddying up her legs.

It was definitely the bag. She was sure of it. She opened it, dug through the various rocks she’d added for weight, and felt something smooth and a bit pointed. She grasped the comb, pulling it out and looking at it.

It was the queen’s comb alright. It looked just as she remembered it—smooth, pearlescent white, rounded edges. Five amethysts lined the spine, poking through to the other side of the comb. She looked up the tunnel of water. None of the other three were watching her, which likely meant that they were distracted by something up top.

“I got it!” Ailwin called.

When there was still no answer offered, she tugged on the end of the rope. She felt a tug in response, and then suddenly she was hoisted up with far more force and speed than what she was lowered with.

Upon reaching the top, Ailwin’s arms were grabbed by two men she did not recognize and held up over her head. She struggled against them when she saw that each of her friends had a dagger to their throats.

A tall, slender woman with pink skin and curling rams horns—an infernal—stood in the center of the ambush. She turned slowly, looking at Ailwin. A smile spread across her scarred face. “My, my. You really were fetching an item from the lake. But what is it, exactly?” she asked.

Ailwin slipped the comb into the end of her sleeve with the impossible speed of a practiced hand. It had been a long time since she’d needed to hide something she’d taken from someone who was looking for it. She was relieved to know her muscles could still remember how to do it.

“Ah-ah, little elf. You must relinquish what you’ve found,” the infernal woman said.

“It’s nothing of value, just an old family heirloom,” Ailwin said.

The infernal took a step toward her. “Then surely you have no qualms with letting me see it.”

Ailwin schooled her features into something casually uncertain. She did not want to give away the fear now coursing through her. “I do, though. It’s actually quite embarrassing that I risked my life to fetch something so mundane.”

Behind the infernal, Ailwin could see Casda, Relsia, and Warson. The former two were watching Ailwin and her interaction. The latter, however, was still staring at the pit he’d created in the lake water. The man holding a dagger to Warson’s throat muttered something to him and a bead of sweat ran down Warson’s forehead as his hands began to tremble. He was growing too tired to hold his magic.

The infernal took a step toward her, amusement coloring her features. “What is your name, little elf?”

“Ailwin. What’s yours?” she responded.

“Yorayola. Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the infernal said, tipping her head slightly. “And it will be an even greater pleasure when you hand over the white comb you slipped into your sleeve.”

Ailwin’s eyes flared wide for half a second before she forced herself to swallow her panic and remain calm. She saw Casda beginning to struggle with the large goliath woman who held him back.

“Yorayola is lovely. Is it a family name?” Ailwin asked.

Yorayola chuckled. “You know, I have the upper hand here. With a snap of my finger, my men can send you back into that pit, and they won’t bother with the ropes this time.”

“Yes, but then I’ll be dead and you’ll lose your chance to see what’s up my sleeve,” Ailwin said.

“On the contrary, my dear,” Yorayola said, stepping toward her again. “I’ll have all the time in the world to pick at your corpse and pluck off all the fun little treasures I’m sure you have hidden on your person.”

Casda struggled more. His face twisted with rage—the rage he normally kept under exceptional control. Ailwin smiled faintly at the sight. She caught Relsia’s eye. Relsia winked. Warson was still sweating. He managed to meet Ailwin’s gaze for a mere instant and she knew. They were ready.

Ailwin looked at Yorayola again. She was only a few paces away now. Her dark, devilish eyes stared into Ailwin’s, hungry for something Ailwin was ready to die defending.

“I can assure you that I carry little to nothing upon my person. And, for your information, I’m only half elf,” Ailwin said.

She kicked her leg up behind her, hitting one of the men who held her in the back of his knee. Casda screamed in rage as he grabbed the woman holding the dagger to his throat. He flipped her on her back. Relsia muttered some sort of spell and surrounded herself with a swarm of glowing swallows. The man holding her screamed as blood flowed from several cuts that hadn’t been on his skin before.

Warson dropped the spell holding the lake water and cast a new spell that sent a rush of water streaming down from the sky and blasting the man who held him. The man Ailwin kicked had recovered, but not fast enough. Ailwin had already shaken him off and landed a successful punch on the face of the other man.

The ambushers began to respond. Chaos erupted as magic was cast, weapons flashed, and blood was splattered on the lake’s hard surface. Casda knocked the goliath woman unconscious after a few hard blows with the hilt of his sword. Warson took a few slashes to the arm and face before he, too, knocked out his opponent. He restrained the man Relsia was fighting and she, in turn, restrained the two men who had been holding Ailwin.

Ailwin and Yorayola squared off, their daggers ready in each of their hands.

Through heavy breathing, Yorayola laughed. “You lot are quite capable. I’m impressed.”

“As you should be,” Ailwin said, also breathing heavily.

Yorayola wiped blood from her brow with the back of her hand. “Shall we call a truce?”

“Is it really a truce if we’ve basically beaten you?” Ailwin teased.

“Oh, I like you. You’re fun,” Yorayola said with a wicked smile.

“We’ll restrain you and leave you safely on the shoreline. You won’t follow us. Those are the terms for our truce,” Ailwin said.

Yorayola shook her head, grinning. “Those are terrible terms.”

“Then how about you just take a nap?” Casda asked. Yorayola startled at his sudden proximity. He thumped her on the head and she collapsed. He caught her before she hit the lake and scooped her up. His gaze met Ailwin’s. “Would you like to do the honors of tying them up, or should I?”

It took about 20 minutes for the four of them to tie up Yorayola and company. Because a few of the men were still conscious, they put up a bit of a struggle. Relsia ended up blowing a glittering powder into each of their faces, putting them to sleep. They remained untied, but plopped ungraciously across the laps of their bound companions.

“They’ll wake last, so their friends will be irritated to find them like this,” Relsia said.

“How devious,” Ailwin commented.

The cleric flashed her a grin. “My goddess likes a little mischief from time to time.”

“Winnie, please tell me you still have the comb,” Warson said, interrupting their bit of fun.

She produced the comb from her sleeve and held it up so he could see it. “Indeed I do.”

He smiled. “Dearest sister, I’ve missed you so.”