Rachel didn’t snore. She must be sleeping in fits and starts. Luca assured me that the pain in her shoulder wouldn’t be too great, but I was starting to think that maybe that was bullshit. He’d probably never had to take care of such a dramatic surgery.

  I debated on getting her some meds, but didn’t want to wake her to administer them. If she was sleeping, then I should let her sleep.

  Sitting under the window, the moonlight off the snow painted a rectangle of light on the floor in front of me. I pulled out my slate.

  The first message I clicked on was from Caleb’s ‘Saviors of the Worlds I Guess.’

  Caleb: We made it to the palace. I will not be updating the main chat anymore, for obvious reasons.

  Caleb: Sofia? Go fuck yourself.

  The next message was a direct chat from Sofia.

  Inara: I don’t want you to think that just because you got caught between me and Caleb, that any duress you may have suffered was intentional on my part. If you were hurt at all because of the mess we’ve made, I am sorry.

  I strangled an involuntary growl of frustration. That pissed me the hell off.

  I’d never really been mad at a woman like this before. Sure my college girlfriend broke my heart, but in hindsight we weren’t a good match anyway, and I came around to that fact pretty quick. And sure, I’d been mad at my mom before, but this was on another level.

  Maybe it was the idea that in some way, I’d idolized her that made it hurt worse. Maybe the fact that I’d been one of the few people that thought she could be redeemed, made what she did sting.

  I certainly didn’t think her apology was very good. I texted her back.

  Breznik: If I was hurt? I’m fine. Your lap dog cut my friend's arm off. So forgive me if I’m not in a great place to accept your apologies.

  I got a response immediately.

  Inara: Who?

  Breznik: Rachel

  Inara: Ah. For what it is worth, I truly am sorry. I liked Rachel. Is she okay?

  Breznik: She’s fine. I spent 2 days putting her arm back on right, but she’s fine.

  Inara: Good. I’m glad. I can tell that I’ve upset you, and for that, again, I am sorry. But you must know

  Inara: If you had just joined me, none of this would have happened.

  I wanted to throw my slate against the wall. I didn’t. I kept down the scream that wanted to explode from me. It trickled out of my clenched teeth in a low growl. Rachel stirred in her sleep.

  I typed and retyped my response several times, unsure if I should say anything at all. Eventually I went with this.

  Breznik: Youre obsession with me is weird. The apology is insincere. Get fucked.

  Inara: your*

  Inara: I can tell you’re upset right now. But I don’t think I deserve to be talked to like this. Perhaps later when you’re in the mood to be more civil.

  Inara: Good night.

  “What a bitch,” I said to myself, maybe just a little too loud.

  I was too wound up to sleep, so I decided to take a shower.

  I’d only showered once upon getting here, so it was a long time coming. I grabbed a towel, some fresh cotton undershorts, and a long sleeved shirt from the chest at the foot of the bed.

  Oh, the showers! This place had something very similar to modern showers. They were communal, essentially gym showers, little stalls with a curtain, but after months of lukewarm wooden tubs, a hot shower was revelatory.

  And at this time of night I had them all to myself.

  Now that I was clean, damp, and a little cold because of it, I ran across the hall to jump under my covers. I almost didn’t see her.

  Perched on the wall near the ceiling like some kind of nerdy, theater kid spider, was Bernadette.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Um, hey,” she responded.

  “You want to come down, or are you up there for the night?”

  She laughed, and walked down the wall to stand near me.

  “I’m kinda cold,” I said. “So let me tip toe in, and get some clothes.”

  “Tip toe?” she asked, suddenly suspicious.

  “Yeah. Rachel’s sleeping, and I don’t want to wake her.”

  “Oh,” she said, relaxing. “How is she?”

  “Could be better. All the magical healing she got means that she isn’t bedridden, but recovery isn’t just physical, yeah?”

  “Right,” Bernie replied. She looked at me with apprehension. “You got my letter?”

  “Yeeep.”

  “Okay. So. I wanted to take it back but when I got into your room I saw that you put it in the book, which means you read it so—”

  “You snuck into my room?”

  “Yeah. I wanted to take it back.”

  “What do you mean?” I wrapped my arms around my chest to keep some heat in. The halls were a little drafty.

  Bernie ran her tongue behind her lips, and shuffled in place a bit.

  “I’m not sure I meant all that. I just wrote it in a hurry, and—”

  I stepped closer. Maybe just to feel a little warmer, or something, I don’t know why.

  “We don’t have to do this in the hall,” I said, whispering.

  “Do what?” she whispered back.

  “Why were you stalking outside my room?”

  “I wasn't ‘stalking,’ I was perching.”

  “Perching then, why?”

  I was suddenly tired of this dance we’ve been doing, this thing where I’d move forward, and she’d move away. If she wanted to break up with me, maybe she should. Then I looked at her eyes. Those didn’t look like ‘break up’ eyes. What was happening? I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “I shouldn’t have come here,” she said, and then turned to walk away.

  I grabbed her shoulder, and she let me whirl her back around.

  “Just tell me what you’re thinking,” I said.

  “I’m scared!”

  I waited for her to say more. I knew that there was something to wait for, but I didn’t know what.

  “I love you too,” she said.

  “Oh.”

  “But I’ve never felt like this before,” she continued. “I’ve never done this, and it’s scary.”

  “You love me?” I said incredulously. “Since when?”

  “I don’t know! Since you brought me back to life. Fuck, maybe since goddamn Berryhop. Since cold nights in that stupid tent. Since, forever.”

  “Why am I just learning this now?”

  “Maybe you weren’t paying attention.”

  I hadn’t fully learned this lesson yet, but here I thought that maybe since I was winning, I shouldn’t actually say anything. So, I swallowed any comeback I had.

  Instead, I kissed her.

  I could feel her warm body through her cotton shirt, and her cold hands pressed against our chests, and I squeezed my arm around her tighter, and she melted into me. It was passionate, and hard, and I wanted to keep her pressed against me forever. I finally knew she wanted me, and I wanted her to be mine too, and I didn’t have time for joy because the certainty of our want for each other had welded us together into this single diamond-like shape.

  I stopped kissing her, and held her away from me.

  “I’m glad you told me,” I said.

  “What did I say?” she asked facetiously. “Was I saying something?”

  “You were saying how you’ve always loved me.”

  “Yeah, well, you love me too.”

  “It’s the only thing I think about. Or at least it’s what I think about more than anything. Just how much I love you, and how much I want you to be happy. And also not dying.”

  “Of course,” she agreed. Then said, “you know what would make me happy?”

  “What?”

  Bernadette bopped her head along as if she were going through some kind of speech in her head.

  “I think you need to come up to my room,” she said finally.

  “Really?” I asked. “Should I go grab my clothes, first?”

  “Nope.”

  “Got it,” I said.

  She took my hand, and led me down the hall.

  On our way up the steps I asked, “shouldn’t we get some supplies?”

  “I got hooch, and some cider to mix with it.”

  I stopped. She turned on the steps to look at me.

  “No, I mean,” I said, miming putting a condom on over my finger.

  “Oh!” she said, then thought for a second. “No. Just pull out, I guess.”

  “I can do that,” I said.

  “If you don’t, it’ll be the last time. So, no mistakes.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said.

  We made it to the hall outside her room and I put my arm around her as we walked. She leaned her head against me.

  Then we were at her door.

  “No roommate?” I asked.

  “Not yet,” she said, opening the door and letting me walk in first.

  I did. Her room was uncommonly messy for someone that had only been here less than three days. But I didn’t have much time to take it in before she slammed the door shut, and leapt on me.

  Okay. So, look. Some things, some details, they’re just for me.

  After, she wore my shirt, and nothing else. I lay on top of the covers trying to catch my breath. The coolness of the stone building was comforting on my sweaty bare skin.

  “How much do you want?” she asked, pouring some hooch into a cup then moving to the mason jar of cider.

  “Oh, uh, can I just have a little of yours?” I asked.

  “Yeah, sure,” she said, sitting at the edge of the bed. I’d already drank with Rachel today, plus I wanted to sear every moment of tonight into my memory. She took a sip and offered some to me.

  I sat up and took the cup. The alcohol and sweet cider was thick on my tongue and the drink burned in my chest. The moonlight lit the edge of her face and her damp hair, and the curve of her neck, and I could feel the moment becoming special and important as I was living it. I knew the memory would be one I came back to again, and again in my heart and in my dreams.

  I handed the mug back.

  “Do we need to have a ‘setting expectations’ conversation?” she asked.

  “Do you want to?”

  “I’m not sure we need to. We’re exclusive. Anything more should probably wait til we get home.”

  “Should we tell people?” I asked.

  “I don’t think we could keep the secret if we wanted.”

  “Fair,” I said. “Do I introduce you as my girlfriend?”

  She screwed her face up a little.

  “My lover?” I offered.

  “Ew, no.”

  “What do we call each other?”

  She thought for a moment, then said, “I guess I’m okay with ‘partner.’”

  “Ooh,” I hissed facetiously, “that’s a pretty strong term.”

  I was being playful, but it also was true that it was a very strong term. In hindsight, it was surprising that it didn’t bother me more. Maybe that just meant she had truly captured my heart.

  “Oh, is it?” she responded.

  “Yeah, almost like we love each other or something.”

  “Shut up,” she said with a smile.

  “I like ‘partner,’ I know you’re bi, and I think it honors that. But we also fight together, travel together. It’s nice.”

  “I thought so too,” she said.

  “Oh! And how often are we doing, you know, this.”

  “Sex?”

  “Yeah.”

  “As often as we like, I guess. Certainly when we have privacy.”

  “So are we going to start using condoms?”

  “The sheepskin sorta weirds me out.”

  “Then what are we—”

  “Oh!” she interrupted, “I have an IUD. At least I should. I haven’t been having my periods.”

  It just occurred to me that she hadn’t been complaining about it. And I hadn’t seen her use the tea that Rachel uses. I should have been able to put two and two together, but that just goes to show how incredibly observant I was.

  “What? What do you mean you should? Don’t they stay active for years?”

  “They do,” she said. “But I did fall through a magic portal in time and space, Zachary. I haven’t exactly been to my gynecologist to get it checked. But I know it’s there at least.”

  “That makes sense. Wait, why did you make me pull out then?”

  “I need to know I can trust you. If you can’t do that much…”

  “Ah. Well, I hope I’ve proven that I can take direction.”

  “Yes, you certainly can.”

  She took another sip of her booze then slid across the bed to lean against the wall perpendicular to me. She put her bare legs over mine. We stayed like that for a while, just basking in each other’s silent company. I broke the silence.

  “Sofia tried to apologize,” I admitted.

  “Yeah?” Her eyebrow shot up. “What did she say?”

  “Mostly just that she’s ‘sorry if I got hurt’ and that ‘it’s really my fault because I didn’t join her.’”

  “Oh, what a bitch. What did you say back?”

  “I told her to ‘get fucked’ in those exact words.”

  “Nice,” she said, taking another sip. “What a mess. Any chance of us all getting back together is ruined.”

  “Looks that way,” I said. “What do you think about the fact that there are others here?”

  “I don’t think it matters much. Not sure how this place works exactly, but there’ll probably always be people that end up here. Not really our business.”

  “Sure, but shouldn’t we try to get them on our side?”

  “You’re so sweet,” she said, lazily trailing her fingertip over the muscles of my calf. “Could we trust them?”

  “Doesn’t the fact that we’re stuck here together give us a common cause?”

  “Maybe. But a common cause didn’t make us suddenly all join hands, and sing kumbaya back where we’re from. Why would it make a difference here?”

  “Stakes are higher? Bad guys back home want to screw us out of a livelihood. Bad guys here want us dead.”

  “Fair point,” she said, handing me her mug. I took it and drank. “Maybe we can keep that in mind when we interrogate her.”

  I hummed my assent, and handed her the mug back.

  “What do we know so far?” I asked.

  “Not much,” she said. “Me and Mark tried to get her to talk but she’s been pretty quiet. Only asked that we help her out of her armor. Didn’t try to escape. So, there’s that. Her slate is open, but the message app is password locked.”

  “You can do that?”

  “Apparently.”

  She handed me the cup, I drank some, and we gazed at each other the way that people do when they were absolutely out of their mind in love with the other. I thought back to the moment I saw her singing in the mess. I was reminded of all the times we had been at a tavern, and people would just start up a song. People here didn’t need a bard, though they appreciated them, and they didn’t care about how good they were, though many were well practiced. People sang as they worked. People sang just because.

  It wasn’t just a thing you did at school, then left languish, or something you did to make money, or something you did alone in your car. People sang here for the joy of it. They sang together.

  “People sing more here,” I said, handing her the cup back.

  “Nice segue there, bud,” she responded, taking the drink.

  “I was just thinking that here ain’t all bad. The monsters suck, and the kingdoms are oppressive, and everyone wants to kill us, but there’s music.”

  “Hmm, you’re right. Nobody seems afraid to sing. I had a boyfriend once that said I had an awful voice.”

  “Oh, fuck that guy.”

  “I think he was insecure. But people don’t seem insecure about it here.”

  “For what it’s worth,” I said, “I like your voice.”

  “Of course you do,” she replied.

  “No, really.”

  Bernadette drank a big gulp of her drink, set it on the floor, and said, “okay, enough talk, lover boy. Come here.”

  She crawled across the bed toward me.

  There is something so sensual about the simple movement of a woman toward you with intent: the moonlight, the shape of muscles under skin, the tuck of a knowing smile. Another moment to sear into memory. There was just one problem.

  “Hey, ah,” I said, “I don’t know what you got in mind, but twice in an hour is a lot and—”

  “Oh, I think I can get you there,” she said.