I'm cold.

I fucking hate being cold. What makes it worse is being without shoes. The scales on my soles don't protect me from the cold-as-fuck air of the desert at night in the wintertime. The sand is leeching warmth from my body right through the soles of my feet.

I can see my breath in front of my face. I never saw it in the Underworld, which makes me wonder, is it always warm there and the cold was just me, or do we not breathe in the land of the dead?

Mishu pokes my cheek and clicks his tongue softly, pointing at something in the distance.

I swear under my breath. I've gotten turned around again. I am trying to go west, to the river, then I can follow it to the city, but the drugs still in my system are making me disoriented. It's been a whole fucking day of walking and night has fallen again. I should have been back by now.

"Mishu, do you think Love is fucking with me right now? I keep getting lost," I ask the gargoyle curled up in my vest.

His ears twitch, but he doesn't respond. He probably doesn't know. Or he's angry with me for hurting Mara.

"Do you think she'll ever forgive me?" I ask him.

He shrugs a shoulder. "Saaad," he hisses.

I stagger a little. "I made her sad?" I ask.

He rolls one orange eye to glare at me.

"What if she has fallen in love with him?" I ask Mishu. "I can't be cold again, Mishu. I can't fucking do it."

"You are a long way from your city, Recondite."

I spin around, cursing my delayed reactions and dulled senses.

Standing behind me is a nomadic elder, dressed in colorful, beaded skirts with long dark braids wrapped like a crown on her head.

"Nan?" I ask in disbelief. The memories of Belen's grandmother come tumbling back in. "I'm sorry, Nan. For... shit, I didn't know, Nan. I couldn't remember and he was a cat and I-"

"I know, Thelios. I know. I felt my grandson die, here," she taps her chest over her heart, "but he will walk to Ersetu easily enough. Your sweet Fated ensured him a good journey to her father's city."

I grind my teeth together to keep from protesting. He shouldn't be walking to the Underworld. Gods, he should be walking by my side.

"I'm sorry," I say again, lamely.

She sighs, shaking her head, the beads chiming faintly as she looks over her shoulder.

"Nan, there are dangers in the desert," I start to explain Love's duplicity in releasing the Forgotten, but my words fail me when Nan turns her head back my way.

I stare into the bright green eyes of the mother.

"Enlal," I fall to my knees, bowing my head.

"No, Recondite. Don't be silly. I am still just Nan."

"You are the mother goddess," I say flatly. Just my luck to walk into this trap.

"And Nan. And every mother and grandmother that takes a breath in the above. Now, come with me, Recondite."

I follow her over the rise to the nomad encampment and into the fortune-teller's large tent. Inside, I wait for Nan, or Enlal, to settle herself on her large, overstuffed cushions.

"Well, Recondite, why don't you sit?"

Reluctantly, I sit, facing her, tension strumming through my body. I say nothing, always better to let the gods speak to you. They like nothing more than to hear themselves.

"Recondite," she muses. "You don't like the gods much, do you?"

"It is not about liking, Enlal. I don't trust you."

She smiles at me. "I don't blame you, young warrior. We have played with your life too often, eh? Do you remember those lives, Recondite? You and your brother built the city behind me. You both had many wives, many lovers, but not a Fated. Inanji liked you two too much to let any other females claim your attention too long."

I feel my muscles tense. It is not often a god speaks of past lives with mortals. We don't remember them for a reason.

"Anthea's soul was one of your brother's favorites. I imagine that is why my niece decided to place her with you brother. A good distraction."

"I don't understand," I coax the goddess to keep speaking. It's amazing, this conversation. I am used to riddles and half-truths, or worse, prophecy.

"Your Fated... let me show you, Recondite, the life that should have been yours."

I don't even have time to groan in dismay.

I see her immediately. My Flame. She looks surprisingly similar to Poppy, older, tall and gangly. She smiles at the group of little red and blond-haired girls following her through the streets of Tmari. Her hair is braided on either side of her head, but she's lost one of the ribbons and her hair braid is flying loose. Her robes are still a child's garb, short enough to reveal ankles and calves as she kicks up a fuss with the other children. I can tell from her body that she's on the cusp of becoming an adult, but she's still a child. A beautiful child with sparkling dark eyes and mischief in her blood.

"Parijan! Look!"

Giggling, the little Flame turns to see one of the girls holding a dead bluebird. Her body stills, grief resting its heavy hands on her thin shoulders.

"Oh, poor creature," she says sadly. She takes it in her hands. "How did it die?"

"That's our bird," a cool, cultured voice interrupts her.

I am struck dumb by the sight that meets my eyes. Two males, identical down to the dark wings folded at their backs, step out from an alley. Grey eyes, aquiline noses, broad shoulders on youthful bodies, these twins are my brother and I.

Slingshots and darts are in their hands.

"You killed it!" the little Flame accuses hotly.

The grey-eyed twins step forward, matching sneers on their faces. A few years older than the little female, they... we... are grown males, just barely.

"You're a little young to be without your nursemaid, aren't you?" one of them smirks down at her.

"Give us the bird and run back to the nursery like a good little female," the other coos mockingly.

Gods. I can't tell us apart.

The intimidation tactic doesn't work. All of the other females curl their shoulders, heads ducking down, backing up. Some of them flee. Not my Flame. Dark eyes blazing, defiance in her entire stick-thin body, chin tilted up to meet the gazes of the little lordlings glaring down at her, she snaps, "aren't you two a little old to be playing children's games? Maybe you need the nursemaid!"

Wings flare in a small ripple. Nostrils flare, eyes widen, intensity flitting across twin faces. I can't help but think that we need to learn to hide our agitation better. More training is required.

"It's just a bird, Freckles," one of the twins scowls. He taps her nose.

"Was it your stupid pet, Red?" the other chimes in. He tugs her braid, rubbing the ends of her hair between his fingers and thumb.

I watch the little Flame, fascinated, as anger sparks in her eyes and the black grief pours into the bird in her hand. Blue wings flutter and she gasps, letting it go. It takes flight, right past the stunned twin gazes.

I howl in laughter, even if it's just a vision. It's hilarious to see the looks on their... our... faces.

The little Flame takes off, racing past the twin lordlings, evading their grasping hands. I stop laughing, feeling sorry for them... us... as their obvious frustration rolls over their faces.

"She is ours, Thane," the twin that must be me growls.

"She's too young to feel the bond, Lios," Thane replies. He is grinning stupidly. "She's something, isn't she? Did you see her hair?"

"It's like fire," now I'm stupidly grinning, too.

Thane's face darkens. "Grandfather won't approve of her. We will have to hide her from him, let her grow up."

"I want her to come home with us," I sound petulant.

Thane shrugs. "She is young. We have time."

"She will love us more than our intended wives," I smile.

We are arrogant little shits, aren't we? If I had the power, I would step into this vision and pound some sense back into their dumb, lordling heads.

Enlal is laughing when the vision ends.

"We were little asses in that vision," I point out groggily.

"Yes," she says fondly, "but that precious child would have lead you both on a merry chase for years. Oh, it would've been so entertaining," she says wistfully.

"Well, that didn't happen," she straightens up. "Instead, Inanji became jealous and determined to destroy the one life Mara and you two had to live normally in the above before joining her father in his kingdom."

"Why?" I ask her.

Enlal sighs, "the Lady Mara is powerful, Thelios. But to chose you two, twins, exalted warrior-souls, as hers... It made Inanji so very envious. Mara stole Nateos' affections, then both of you."

She clears her throat and pins me with a serious look. Ancient wisdom is held in this female in front of me. "Now, the point of all this, Thelios, First Recondite, Fated to the Lady Grief, Prince of the Underworld... Inanji cannot kill Mara in this life and achieve her goals. After all, Mara is Death's daughter. Death is a meaningless punishment for her. Rather, Inanji is attempting to severe the bonds that tie you to your Fated. She has made several attempts, consulted every Seer and tried to turn the other gods against you. Nothing has fully succeeded. She underestimated how deeply you and your brother crave your Fated. She didn't realize that Mara is one with the choice."

"She chooses?" I blurt out.

An eyebrow quirks. "Yes."

"Who will she choose?" I ask, trying to hide the desperation. I am already planning the fight between my brother and I. My wings are gone, now, so I will have to hobble him early-

"Thelios!" Enlal snaps. "Pay attention, child. She has already chosen. Both of you. She chose her own bond, Fated herself to two males. Again, Inanji doesn't realize that Mara is the one with the choice. She believes that she can sway one of you away from Mara. Either of you, both of you, preferably. That bluebird came back to life in the vision because both of you were with her. The three of you are extraordinary together."

"She needs us both," I realize, my heart sinking. I don't want to share my Flame with anyone but our own children.

"Don't be selfish, Recondite. Now, I think sleep and food is what you need."

I try to protest, but the mother of all things is the original. So I eat my soup and fall asleep on my cot, Mishu curled up on my chest, farting every once in awhile. At least his ass is facing away from my face. It's the little things, sometimes...

---

"Are you alright, Princess? I wasn't too rough?" I ask her, watching her move with care into the pool to wash herself.

"I'm fine, Captain."

"Is the water too cold, my Lady?"

"No Thane," comes her soft reply. She moves gingerly, head bowed, skimming her fingers on the surface of the water.

"Can you bathe, too, Thane?" she asks me. A blush covers her chest, her cheeks.

"Yes," I agree, even if I'm reluctant to step into Death's sacred pool. The last time I was here I had the vision of her death. I will never shed the sight of my innocent Fated being torn to pieces because of me.

Swallowing, I take my boots off. My pants are ripped at the seams a bit. Mouse sneaks into the room, a folded robe of grey held in his hands.

"Thank you, Harku," my Lady says.

I step into the pool, ready for whatever vision the god of Death chooses to bombard me with.

Nothing.

I'm almost disappointed. Maybe I need to be alone, without my Lady in the pool with me.

"It's very cold, Princess. A few minutes, only, alright?"

She nods. I duck under the water, scrubbing my skin vigorously. I don't want to wash the scent of my Princess away, but I understand. She doesn't want the world to know that we were together.

"All done?" I ask her. She looks at me, wet hair plastered to her body. Her lips are turning a faint blue. She nods, but doesn't move from the pool.

I take her elbow, expecting her to shed my touch. She doesn't, a fact that I am thankful for as I tug her out of the pool.

I wrap her in the clean robes Mouse provided, making sure to cover her wet hair in the cold air.

"Let's get back to the barracks so that you can warm up, Princess."

"I betrayed him. I'm an adultress, Thane," she murmurs.

"No, beloved," I slip, hurrying to reassure her before she realizes what I said, "you were in Heat. It's incredibly painful without..."

"I fucked you. I begged you," she says.

"Not your fault," I say firmly. Inside, my demon is howling to show her that he isn't a mistake. My own heart is heavy.

"Why you, Thane? Why am I so in love with males who betray me? Is it me? My father says that I am good, but he's my father. He has to love me. You... you and Thelios, you leave me and love other females and-"

I cut her off. "I love you."

Sad eyes meet mine. "You don't."

"I would let you drink every drop of my blood, Mara. Drain me dry and leave me nothing more than a husk. I swore to be yours. To protect you and defend you. I forsook everything and everyone else." I laugh, a little insanely. "I let go of my own son in my oath to become the Basru. That was selfish of me. I'm always selfish, Mara. I... I always have been. I don't know how else to be."

She shakes her head. "Don't beg, please. Don't do this."

"Why?" I ask with the desperation in my heart leaking into my voice. I don't understand her. I want to, but she's confusing, so unique to every other female I've ever met. "Why can't I tell you the truth of how I feel about you?"

"Because," she whispers. "You destroyed me, Thane. I can't do the same to you. Please don't beg me, it's not who you are."

I shake my head, bewildered. "Who I am? I am the Basru Captain, princess. Your Captain." My shoulders sag. I feel defeated. She has asked me to stop apologizing to her. She wants me gone.

"Tell me what you want from me, Lady. I exist to serve you," I say dully. I wait for the words that will slice what little remains of my heart out.

"Help me save your brother from her."

My eyes slide closed. "Of course, my Lady."

I bundle her tightly in the robes, making sure she's cocooned securely, then pick her up in my arms.

"I'll fix this, Thane," I think I hear her say, but the agony in my heart drowns out everything else.

---

I am held tight in a state of fugue. Bathing in the pool, twice today, has cleared my head just enough to let me understand why I am so disconnected.

I feel guilty for taking Thane as my lover. I feel guilty for feeling guilty for taking Thane as my lover. I want my Fated. Both of them. I just wish that I could have Thelios with me, to explain, to reassure him that I love him.

I didn't tell Thane that I love him. That was cruel of me. He vowed his love to me, twice, and I said nothing.

I am sorrow and shadow.

With a sigh I stand up, tucking the covers securely around Poppy. A rim of purple stains her mouth, more on her fingers. I have no idea what she and Ililie were up to earlier, but he has purple stains on his vest and ears, oddly, so maybe I don't want to know.

Thane isn't anywhere in sight. It's late, or early, depending on what day it is. Thane should be sleeping, but who can sleep in this war-torn city?

I push open the door to the barracks common room and grind to a halt.

"Hello my beloved Princess!" Thane's boisterous shout startles me. Even more shocking is his demeanour as he stumbles and sways to my side. "You look beautiful," he tells me in a slur. "Both of you look beautiful," his eyes narrow, trying to fix on me.

"You have a twin, too?" he asks. He goes down to one knee, shaking his head like a dog to rid himself of the alcoholic fog in his brain.

It doesn't work. As I look around the room I realize that there is no way that Thane can will away his drunken stupor.

Lier is laid out, flat on his back, a mountain of empty jugs surrounding him. He is nude, with a half-nude female curled up on his chest, his fingers tangled in her hair. Oh, gods, I wasn't expecting that.

Blushing I look away from him. If there was a god of debauchery, then I imagine that he would fit the image perfectly.

Thane manages to stand on his feet again. "I won," he states proudly. "I won because..." he lets out a large belch, "I had more wine, Princess."

"That's very... nice, Captain," I say carefully toeing away an empty jug. The entire room stinks like a distillery. Most of it seems to be wafting from the drunken oaf in front of me.

"I won, actually."

I turn to see Postite Banio, sitting at the table, jugs lined up carefully to his left and right. He looks entirely sober. "Those two can't hold their liquor, Mara. We are doomed," he announces dramatically. At his feet is Postite Falso. Hopefully, still alive.

"No!" Thane turns, nearly falling flat on his face. "I won. You... you won against me, but I beat Lier." He laughs, looking at me again. "I'm second-best again, Mara," his voice holds a wealth of sadness.

"Are you hungry, Princess?" he asks me suddenly. He raises a knife to his throat and I finally stop staring at the scene in amazement.

"No, Thane! I'm not hungry!" I gently grab his hand and guide the blade away from his neck. I imagine I would be drinking just wine anyway, with how drunk he is.

He sways, his eyes staring at our hands. "You're so beautiful," he tells me, again.

"Thank you, Thane." I use his distracted state to start to guide him over to a couch. "Why don't you lie down?"

"Alright," he mumbles. He sinks onto the couch and I arrange a cushion behind his head.

"I have a plan," he slurs.

"Do you?"

"Mmhmm. I know how to get into that district. That House."

My hands freeze in the act of arranging his legs on the couch. They each weigh the same as a baby elephant.

"You're going to the First House?" I whisper.

"I promised my Lady I would," he explains earnestly. His bloodshot eyes blink at me. "You're very beautiful."

"Thank you, Thane." I finish arranging him. "Maybe stay with me?" I ask.

He smiles at me. "You're beautiful. Did I tell you my plan?" His eyes drift closed.

"He's beyond talking to right now, Mara," Postite Banio says from behind me. "Just go on back to bed. Let him sleep it off."

"Alright," I say reluctantly. Before I leave, I kiss Thane on the forehead. He smiles in his sleep. Momo curls up on his chest, burping suspiciously.

Shaking my head, I go back to my own bed.