He waited until Brytha was fast asleep to creep past her sleeping on Richan's bed. It was good that she decided to stack the dinner plates neatly on a table near the door, if it was Nikolas he would have left it on the floor and no doubt trip and break them. The window was easy enough to open, and the dragon scale was warm in his hands as he waited for a response from Jozin or Surio. He'd haphazardly put on a coat, the nightgown would prove impossible to climb in after all. The night air was cold, and in the dark he could see the bobbing lights of the lěkarka around their village.

"Jozin?" he whispered again, more to reassure himself, because it was dark and he did not like the sight of the bird masks, even if he couldn't see them.

"Nikolas!" Jozin sounded cheerful, as he always did, "You know, my mother's training a new girl, Milla. She's very nice and she is very good with herbs and things she just knows—"

"What's wrong?" Surio interrupted, brows furrowed, "What's wrong Nikolas?"

It must be light where they were, because Jozin's hair was neatly braided and they weren't in their nightclothes like Nikolas was. But he couldn't find himself to say anything except look at their familiar faces. His hands were shaking so much he couldn't quite hold his own scale steady and he put a hand to his mouth only to realize his lips were trembling.

"It's just the cold," he said, then swallowing again and again to find his voice, "Richan's… gone."

Jozin blinked, wide eyed and confused, while Surio's widened. He was the first to speak, and Nikolas could see his hand on the twin dragon scale, placed in consolation, "I am so sorry," said Surio.

"Do you know if—" Nikolas began, feeling his heart beat frantically, his fists clenching. Maybe there was hope, maybe there was something Jozin could do.

Jozin shook his head. "You can't bring someone back Nikolas. You don't want to."

Surio glanced at Jozin then at Nikolas, "If they want to return Nikolas that's on them, not on you."

"But he'd want to!" Nikolas exclaimed, "He wanted to do things and travel, and he said he'd met a witch and I know he wouldn't have wanted—" he rubbed furiously at his eyes, and hiccuped, "he was supposed to—"

The air was cold and it felt like needles were biting into his cheeks, and he furiously wiped away the tears.

"A lot of people wanted to do things," Surio said softly, "but they didn't. That's just how it is sometimes. And they're fine with it, because they don't come back." He must have pulled the scale away from Jozin because now he could see Surio's face more instead of Jozin's. "But they have to choose to come back Nikolas, you can't force them."

"Would…" Nikolas wiped at his eyes, blew his nose on his sleeve, "would Richan come back?"

"My parents didn't," said Surio, and he nodded solemnly, "but if they did, I don't know. But sometimes you don't want people coming back because—" he shook his head, running a hand through his hair, "well, most times they come back and accompany witches! You said your brother met a witch right? Did he ever tell you her name?"

"No," said Nikolas, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes and sitting up in interest. Witches and their practices weren't discussed in their household and this was news to him. Richan would come back and accompany a witch? Maybe the one he told him and Jozin about that night?

Jozin poked Surio and moved the dragon scale closer to him. Surio jostled so that Nikolas could still see his face and said, in serious tones, "When did he meet the witch?"

"It was a man! There's not many of them, I'm sure we can help you, and maybe you can write to him and ask if he's taken on a familiar."

"Didn't your mother say it was rude to ask for a witch's familiar?" said Surio, "Like barging in while they're having a bath—"

"There's public baths," Jozin sniffed.

"Yes, but you of all people should know witches aren't all the same. Skapinian witches are normal compared to the ones we've seen your mother talk to!"

"What are familiars?" Nikolas interrupted, slamming one hand impatiently on the roof tiles.

"They look like animals," said Surio, "but they talk like us, not like those red and green birds, just squawking and squawking. They sound like people but they're not. Familiars are real people, but you'd have to talk to one for awhile—Ow!" he glared at Jozin, "Why did you do that?"

"You shouldn't go looking for familiars," Jozin said, nodding seriously, "Icfeld doesn't like them—"

"Icfeld doesn't like anything," said Surio rolling his eyes, "It's all paper this and stamp that. They'll probably stamp familiars as well! Hah! I'd like to see them try!" he chuckled.

"They are trying," Jozin said and the mirth left Surio's face.

"Right…" Surio huffed out a breath. "You know you're always welcomed in Skapina right? And we've got our ways to—"

"Shh!"

"Right," Surio rolled his eyes, but there was an earnest look in his eyes when he continued, "Look Nikolas, when you're older you can visit us and we'll show you something. And I… I know it's horrible. I… I miss my parents. They didn't come to see me as familiars or anything. I don't think they'd want to. Not that I'm bad but I don't know, my parents would think it strange to return. They're one of those people, live and die you know, and whatever comes next is whatever, not familiars and witches and magic. I… I'm talking about me right? Me, me, me, sorry. It's going to be bad but you know he left you with something. Last time I saw my parents I didn't even say goodbye—"

He didn't even say goodbye, Nikolas thought, and felt the tears welling up in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm horrible at this, Jozin, it's your turn just tell him something!"

When Jozin was silent, Surio continued on, "But you've got your other siblings and you've got your parents still and I'm sure… oh this is horrible. I will just say what Baba Zvetla told me to you. It feels like you're drowning?"

Nikolas nodded.

"It feels like your chest hurts and you can't breathe but you have to keep going. But you keep seeing the waves and you have to keep paddling or whatever swimming," he waved his arms, "that people do. But that's fine. You'll get used to it, the water will stop and you'll find a boat and someone will pull you up and then they'll let you on their boat and you'll paddle with them and everything'll be easier. You just have to ask someone to let you into their boat."

He sounded like one of the books that Brytha read out loud, the ones with the fancier spines, the ones that were about love and romance and described flowers in detail, but they never really were talking about red roses. Nikolas would usually have the time for that, because it wasn't numbers, but not now, "I don't understand what you mean!"

"You can talk to us!" Jozin said, "That's what Surio meant, you just need to talk to someone." He pushed then gave Nikolas a tentative look, "Did it help?"

"It did, a little," said Nikolas. But he was on the rooftops with a dragon scale and he didn't need to climb down to the bedroom, the bedroom he shared with his brother and realise that… he gulped. Richan was gone, really gone, not to his boarding school or not to visit a friend or not even to his new life... "I… I should go."

"You don't have to!"

"It's late!"

Surio and Jozin exchanged a glance, then Surio said, nodding earnestly, "If you do want to talk, you know where to find us!"

He nearly slipped on the windowsill as he lowered himself down. A quick glance at Brytha's bed and she was not there. In fact, she wasn't anywhere in the bedroom. He frowned, then decided to get up on the roof. He had several guesses where she could have gone. He looked forward, carefully balancing as he crawled slowly, mindful of any loud noise he could make. Then when he was certain, he stood up, squinting into the darkness. From where he stood he could see a light in his father's study, and he knew if he made his way closer he would be able to see if she was there. If she was sharing her plans with him, even as the Voeveda told her not to.

"Where are we supposed to live, Brytha? This is your mother's house. I can't simply intrude on my family—" His father was still dressed, but his clothes were in disarray, Nikolas could see what looked like wine stains on the sleeves.

Brytha and Aldeim were both seated near a fire that had gone out, on the floor of all places, instead of on chairs.

"You have run her household since you came here! We can just—"

"No, Brytha, I do not steal."

"You truly do not wish to leave her? You said…" there was a tremble to Brytha's voice, and Nikolas couldn't see her face but her shoulders were shaking, "you said that you regretted ever—" her voice broke, "do you regret us—"

"No! Never!"

Nikolas felt relief coursing through him, and he suddenly very much wanted to be on the other side of the window with his father's arms around him, like they were around Brytha's

Aldeim's arms were around Brytha and her voice was muffled when she said, "But I heard—"

The next words were pitched so low that Nikolas struggled to make out the words, even as he risked pressing his ear closer to the glass, "I would never regret you."

Brytha pulled away, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. This was an insult that at any other time she would be horrified by such behavior. Then she took Aldeim's hands into hers and leaned closer, "We can do it, you know. I'm old enough to head a business, I know all our contacts and they all like me. You can help me but I am sure I can head one right now, tomorrow, if you want. Then you don't have to stay here. We can go anywhere—"

He felt a pang of fear. Would his father leave with Brytha? She was his favorite now wasn't she? Would he just leave everyone? His mother was away so many days of the year, who would care for them? Not Warada, she was the Cook, not their teacher and not Diase and not Aldeim.

"You know very well your mother's position—"

"I don't care about her position!"

"You should!" Aldeim visibly shuddered then said in much softer tones that Nikolas had to again strain his ears to hear. His hand was on Brytha's cheek and the other was holding a handkerchief, wiping away her tears, "The pot is slowly boiling and she hasn't realized it until now."

"She still wants us to play make-believe," Brytha sniffed. "What, are we all going down to breakfast and play pretend?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

His hand was on Brytha's cheek, "I don't want Ada or Felie to know any better, not… not now, do you understand?"

"Oh," Brytha's shoulders shook again, "I forgot. I'm so sorry. I just—"

He had not seen his sister cry this much, Nikolas thought, and he did not like that at all. Brytha was supposed to come up with the plans and know what to say, not to tremble and cry. They were all supposed to be themselves! Not whatever this was! And Richan was... He wiped at his eyes again, and caught himself as his father and sister stood up. Aldeim motioned towards the study door and said with some finality, "It is a very long day, you should go to bed."