Fal was furious when we arrived back to the campsite. This anger, though, was different from what I had expected of him. Rather than the raging anger I had seen from him back in Arden, he refused to speak with me. Sidra said that he had been quiet since our departure, and she was left to decode the book on her own. He took the first shift of watch, and I quietly settled down on my bedroll, trying not to feel his anger burning me from across the site.

Dreams came to me in snatches, flitting behind my eyelids like splashes of blood. I gave up on attempting to sleep, sitting up in my place to find Fal standing nearby. He was turned away from me, his face turned upwards toward the soft glow of the waning moon. At the rustling of my blankets shifting, he turned his head just enough to see me wide awake.

"Trouble sleeping?"

"I can take watch."

He exhaled through his nose, but didn't move from his spot as I moved to his side. "I'll take your place tonight." There was a pause, and in it I could hear my heart hammering in my chest. "You won't be returning to the Ring."

"What makes you think I'll listen to you?"

"Aumee." He turned to me now, his voice gruff. "Out here, you have no Baurpei to relieve you of your burdens." I had to look away from him. His eyes were too soft, too pitiful. I focused my gaze on the horizon of the desert. "How many people did you kill tonight?"

"Seventeen." The number left my lips before I could think of it. As it hung between us, my bottom lip quivered. "I think. I... I'm not sure." I tried to act as if I hadn't counted every single person. I didn't think about the people, the way I killed them. But I remembered every body that my daggers met.

"No wonder you're having trouble sleeping."

"I am doing what needs to be done, Fallon. Would you rather I sit back and wait for us to run out of money and food? We're in a desert, we don't have--"

"Do you remember why you're doing all of this? Why we're here?" He moved so that I was looking directly at him.

"For my freedom, and for your life to go back to the way it was."

"You're doing this for your freedom. I can promise you that what you just did, those people you just killed for that money? That will haunt you. It already is. What good is freedom if you're stuck living that nightmare?"

I tilted my face downward, and hoped that in the shadow he was casting on me he wouldn't be able to see the tear that fell from my eye. "I did what I had to do."

"Well, you won't have to do it anymore. I'll be the one in the Ring tonight. I'm not going to debate it." With that, he made his way back to where his own bedroll was.

I watched the sun come up. I watched the sun come up that morning, and the mornings after. A week passed where I would patrol the campsite during the day, helping Ambrose create and set traps. Where I would tend to Durabi and keep track of the progress of Fal and Sidra as they attempted to decode the book and figure out the spell Sidra needed and the spell that Fal needed. I watched as Fal and Ambrose left every evening while Sidra and I maintained our distance from one another. Hours would pass where I would pace along the outskirts of our camp, not looking for threats or warning signs, but for the outline of Fal and his one horn.

One night they didn't return when they usually would. Sidra stood with me, our arms crossed in complete silence as our eyes scanned for their figures.

Her voice wavered as she spoke. "He's not dead. He can't be. I would... I would feel it, right?" Her hands shook ever so slightly as she twiddled with her hair.

"I'm not a twin, I wouldn't know."

"Why must you always be so bitter?"

"Why must you always be so defensive?" I shot her a glare, but at the sight of her glossy eyes, I reached out to her. "I'm sorry. I know you're worried."

"And you aren't?" I felt my heart skip a beat, my words catching in my throat as I looked back to the empty horizon. "You're looking for Fal, not my brother. Don't pretend to care for either of us."

"I do care for your brother. He's sweeter to me than I deserve. I'm worried, Sidra. Is that what you want to hear?" I shook my head. "I just... they need to come back. We need them." Truthfully, we didn't. I could do this without any of them. I could slip the book from Sidra with ease, make my way back to Arden. I could have done it at any point in the past week.

But I couldn't. Every night, I had to stay up until I saw him on the horizon. Many things haunted me, but the idea of having someone tortured, cursed, and murdered in shackles was too much for me to bear. I wouldn't return to Daya without Fal by my side.

"This is ridiculous. If he comes back I'll kill him."

I smiled. "I'll help you."

We stood there, stances more relaxed than before.

I saw them first. "There," I said as I pointed to where two figures were making their way towards us. The silhouettes were unfamiliar, though. One was short, wriggling against the sand. Durabi, likely, but wider, slower. The other figure was wide and tall, with thin limbs waving at us. "Are they...?"

"Idiots," Sidra spat as she spun on her heel and threw herself to the ground to study her spell book once more.

Sure enough, the figures came closer to reveal Ambrose sitting atop Fal's shoulders, a bottle of nearly empty drink in his hand. Durabi was at their side, his sides loaded up with goodies. The two men were laughing, and Ambrose waved to me from where he sat high above. "Aumee! You must try this. Fal," he began laughing, holding his hand to his stomach, "Fal showed me this stuff. It's like... water but... not good for you."

Fal reached up, grabbing the young man and placing him on the ground, but Ambrose just fell to the ground, unable to keep his feet under him. Fal laughed, slapping his leg as he took in the sight. "You're a lightweight, that much is for sure."

"Where were you two?" I was relieved, but the longer I watched the two of them laugh and poke fun at one another, the more my muscles tensed. "Do you know how long we've been waiting for you two?"

"We decided to stop and grab some supplies with our winnings. We figured we could all use a little break." Fal avoided my gaze as he began unloading everything. "We got some alcohol, but if that makes you uncomfortable then don't worry because, and this is actually quite exciting, we got--"

I grabbed the bottle from Ambrose's grasp as he lay on the ground. Fal watched as I rose the mouth of the bottle to my lips, gulping down the sour taste of the clear liquid. It stung my throat, and my stomach turned in a way that made me think I was going to vomit. Daya forbid alcohol. But I knew enough about it that I knew it would get rid of all of the thoughts running through my mind. I had planned on smashing the bottle against Fal, but watching him rummage through the supplies he bought, taking care with each item, I couldn't bring myself to do it. When I was finished chugging the contents of the bottle, I met Fal's wide eyes.

"You drink?"

"I do now. Give me another bottle."

The night went by in a flash. My mind became a fog as I watched everyone huddle around the fire. Sidra had cut her twin off since their arrival, but her and Fal were chugging along nicely. Fal had already tossed several bottles to the ground, but he kept reminding everyone that he wasn't feeling any sort of buzz.

At some point Ambrose rose to his feet, as if he were making a toast. "To all of us! To my sinister sister, my fiendish friend, and Aumee, our attractive assassin with a look that can kill..." he made a sorry attempt to lower his voice as he shouted towards me, "in every sense of the word." He pretended to take a swig out of his glass, but he held nothing in his hand. Drunk.

I couldn't help but laugh though. "And to the charismatic character that is Ambrose Morrigan."

Everyone cheered, and as I tipped the liquid over my lips, I felt Fallon staring at me from nearby. He made a gesture for me to follow him, so I rose to my feet and met him around the corner of the ribcage, where the demolished skull now sat. "What is it?"

He seemed to be at a loss for words. "You tell me."

"What?"

"You were looking at me."

"What?" My face betrayed my emotions, and I let out a chuckle. "Fal, you're seeing things. Are you sure you aren't feeling anything from the alcohol?"

"Positively certain, unfortunately." He shifted in his place and I slapped the air, my hand falling lazily against his arm, which was further than I had anticipated it being.

"Take it slow." I pointed to my head and then his. "We need someone on watch. I'm too far gone. I may as well be Ambrose," I said with a chuckle. "He's drunk."

"What do you think of Ambrose?"

"He's funny." I nod, my head lulling back so that I was looking up at the starry sky. "Woah."

"Woah, what?"

"The sky is big. The stars are spinning."

Fal laughed gently, placing his hand on my head and forcing me to look back at him. "Careful there, Aumee. You'll be spinning before you know it." He removed his hand and I sidestepped. He was right. I was spinning. How much had I drank? Did I eat dinner? This was a bad idea.

"Fal, can you do me a favor?" I reached forward, grabbing onto his arm.

"Anything."

"Did I eat? I can't remember. I think I need to go to sleep."

Fal was quiet, and I could see his chest heave a great sigh. "We'll grab you something. Come."

I rested my head against his large forearm, letting it anchor me since I couldn't trust my own two feet. "Ambrose is remarkable--" Before I could continue, before I could voice my awe at his ability to still be standing and moving despite the poison in our bodies, Fal tore his arm away from me.

"What is going on with you two? Is there something going on?" Fal looked at me with narrowed eyes, and I shrugged.

"How do you mean?"

"Ambrose said something over there about you being attractive and having looks that can kill. What is that about? Did you... are you two? What?"

"What?" What was he trying to say?

"Are you two... interested? Has he... have you... are you two flirting with one another?"

I scoffed. "What makes you think that?"

"What he said!"

"Ambrose is just a boy, Fallon." I waved the air, searching for his arm, but Fal pulled away once more. "He saw me in my undergarments after the Ring. I had to wash the blood off. He's just drunk. He doesn't know what he's saying. Neither do I, really," I laughed, trying to grab for Fallon.

"So that's it?" Fal pulled away once more, and as my hand fell through the open air, I stumbled forward, and the earth whirled around me. My stomach turned, and as I regained myself, I pursed my lips. What has gotten into him?

"Do you not trust me?"

"You know, I'm not sure I do, Aumee. Are you risking our chance at making a clean run?"

"How dare you."

"How dare you."

"How dare you!" I slammed my body against his, banging on his chest a few times before stumbling back. "I'm not the one who is taking risks here. I'm not the one who made an unnecessary deal! I'm not the one who is drawing all of this out!" I slammed my fist against his chest again, the pain not registering until I pulled back. I held it against my chest. "Fuck! I'm... you're just... how dare you!"

"You said that."

"I know!"

Fal was fuming, and the sight of his fists clenching and unclenching made me take a few steps back. "Everything I've done so far is to make up for your mistakes, Aumee," he roared. "You got me cursed, so pardon me for trying to ensure that that curse is broken. You risked your life and our deal by going to fight in the Ring when we all know you don't stand a chance at winning the full thing."

"That's my job! I kill people, Fal. Unlike you, I don't sit and make others do whatever I want them to. I'm the fighter here, and you're the guy who messed up to begin with. You're the guy who thought he could outsmart everyone else. You're the reason why we're here," I said it as I stared right into his eyes, hatred spewing from my mouth. I couldn't control it. The way he was looking down at me. The way he looked ready to tear me to shreds. This was his fault. Not mine. His.

"I know!" He grabbed onto my arms, holding me in the air in front of his face. "I know," his voice softened, and tears were welling up into his eyes. Desperation covered his face as he spoke, reaching through the fog of my mind. "I made a lot of mistakes in my life, Aumee. I need to atone for them. I go to the Ring not because I want to bring money back, but because I want something to kill me. I want something to kill me because all that I've ever done was get other people killed. I made puppets out of people, Aumee. The same way Daya has of you. I don't want that anymore! So let me fix it. We both need to figure this out." His grip on me softened, and he sat me down on the dirt, falling to his own knees as he did so. "I don't want to go back to the way things were. I want to pay for what I've done. So, please, let me do that." His head drooped down.

Something wet hit my foot, and I reached up to my face to find that tears were streaming down my cheeks. I wiped them away with the back of my hand, and moved forward to hold Fallon's face. "I can do that. We'll fix this. No mistakes. No slip ups. We do the job."

"I do the job."

I nodded. "Of course," I lied softly to him.

I had been there before. Without the Baurpei, I waited for someone to come along and end it all so I wouldn't have to. Fal just wanted a way out of his burdens, the same way I had cheated myself out of mine. I let the Baurpei take my burdens so I wouldn't have to face them, but Fal had no choice. He had to fight his off.

I steeled my resolve. When we gave the book to Daya, I would fight for her to help Fal. If I could live with a clear conscience then he could, too. I traced my finger over the broken section of his horns. He may be the reason we're here to begin with, but I'm the reason he's cursed to live this way. Is one worse than the other?

⇼❂⇼

When I woke up that morning, I could hardly find the power to force my eyelids open. The sun had long since risen, and while it wasn't at its peak, it was enough to pain my head. Commotion was coming from nearby, but all of the words sounded wrong, sounded muffled. I shielded my eyes with my hand and inched upwards until I was standing on my feet. I moved slowly, pain shooting through my head and nausea through my stomach. It wasn't until I came into view of the commotion that I dropped my hands to my sides.

Sidra stood, Fal and Ambrose at her sides, with her arms raised. A dead bird lay on the ground, its long neck snapped at an unnatural angle. Its black wings fell over the sand, dust coating them in a thick layer. Sidra was chanting something in the old language, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Her veins were like mountains on her skin, sweeping across her forehead and hands. Words spewed from her mouth, practically wrapping themselves around the creature and lifting it into the air.

It hovered there for a second before dropping to the ground with a loud thud. All eyes turned to Sidra, who was rubbing her temples as she took it all in. "I did everything right. I don't understand where we could have gone wrong. We used the chant--"

The bird sprang to life, a strangled scream escaping its long throat. It lifted itself up onto the ground, feathers parting from the wing and drifting onto the sand. I watched with wide eyes as it began to fly towards Sidra, its once black and beady eyes a dusty white color. In one swoop, Fal brought his fist down on the head of the bird, pummeling it into the ground. "What in Deorcae's name was that?"

"I..." Sidra bent down, grabbing her spell book from where it sat at her feet. "It worked."

"No," Ambrose scoffed, gesturing to the bird. "It clearly did not. That thing didn't act like that before we killed it."

"If you were killed and brought back to life, wouldn't you be upset with whatever had killed you?"

"That's not my point, Sid--

I cut in, using my foot to turn over the bird's head. "Its eyes. Those are the eyes of a dead bird. Whatever spell you used work, but it didn't bring back everything." I looked down at the muscular body. "Anyone ever defeather a bird like this?"

My comment was ignored. "So we managed to do something right. Perhaps since the bird had already died, the soul wasn't able to take to the body the way it needed to. Maybe we took too much time setting everything up." Sidra began rambling to her brother, a light behind her eyes as she pieced it all together. She knew that she was close, but I hoped she wouldn't figure out what it was she was missing. Things weren't meant to be brought back after they were killed. That's the way it was supposed to work.

"No..." Fal said in thought, rubbing his chin. "The body wasn't the issue. Not entirely. We acted fast enough. The issue has to do with the soul. I don't think it's the body that matters. The spell is meant to bring souls back. You did that, but we have no way to guarantee that you brought back the right soul." He snapped. "I know what we need."

Don't say it, Fallon.

"We need a soul reaper. A sawlripa. I came across one a while back, never sold it off. It's dark magic, that's for sure, but it's powerful. It can cut out the soul of a human, but leaves a seam for something to be put back. If we can get our hands on that, we'd be able to keep the body alive while having time to find the right soul."

"How do you expect to do that?" I crossed my arms. I needed to persuade them that this wasn't possible. If they took the next step, they would be no better than Daya. "Finding the soul of a dead person isn't exactly common knowledge."

"I never said it was," Fal looked to me, a smile forming on his lips. "You don't have to find the right soul. There's a way to attract souls, though. It takes a lot of work, but all you have to do is a summoning ritual with the right items. The items the soul you're looking for may be attracted to. Once you do that, you'll have a soul to work with, or, at least, a fraction of a soul."

"A fraction?" Sidra turned up from the book. "What does that mean?"

"If a soul has been lost for long enough, it may not return in the same condition that it left in. In the case of your parents, they could have lost parts of themselves. Because of that, there have been records of binding souls together. To complete the fractured one, of course. Then, the complete soul is placed into the fresh body."

"What happens to the other soul? The one that was cut out from the body to begin with?" Ambrose snatched the spellbook from his sister, holding it away from her. Sidra and Fal avoided his iron eyes. "Well? If you can't even bring yourself to say it then you must know how terrible of an idea this is."

I said what everyone was thinking. "It would be like any other lost soul. Gone. Forgotten." I moved to Ambrose's side, my chest rising and falling quickly as I looked between the two. "Are you seriously willing to take the lives of two other people in order to bring back your parents?"

"I didn't think that this would be the way."

"That's because you're a child. You don't realize what you're playing with," I sighed. I looked to Fal, who could hardly meet my gaze. "What's your excuse, Fallon? Are you that desperate? Are you willing to sacrifice yourself?"

"We do whatever it takes," Fal said quietly before turning to pack up. "We leave for Arden at sundown."