While Morgan and Bronwyn sparred for maybe the thousandth time in the last week, Olivia sat on her pile of animal furs—Morgan and Bronwyn both had a disturbingly large supply of them—and practiced expanding and retracting her fiery aura. Ever since she’d received the massive boost in her racial levels from the silvery orb, she’d felt the fragment of her elemental nature far more clearly, and had a great deal more control over its aspect.

Not only was she able to expand the aura, but if she really concentrated, she could increase the shimmering flames’ temperature. She wasn’t doing that now; Olivia had no desire to scorch the furs protecting her butt from the ubiquitous marble flooring.

The whole racial advancement thing was fascinating to her. Morgan and Bronwyn had both gotten “bloodlines” added to their racial status, but Olivia hadn’t. She didn’t know if it was because of her connection to the primal elemental within her or if her ancestry was simply more mundane than her friends. Other factors were also creating more questions than answers. For instance, she still had several ranks more than Bronwyn, but Bronwyn had grown taller than her. Was it her Fae bloodline? Were they all simply reaching a certain peak, determined by their DNA? Morgan hadn’t grown any taller but had gotten wings and seemed leaner. Olivia could only imagine all the possible variations humanity had buried in their genetic code.

With thoughts like those buzzing through her mind, Olivia had started keeping a log of the changes she and her two companions had gone through during their various racial advancements. It had been interesting hearing Morgan’s account of creating the elixir that advanced him to “improved” and how he’d been out of commission for so long. The orbs the three of them had absorbed must have been extremely potent, and Olivia wondered if it had to do with the dungeon being so old and created by such powerful people.

Bored with her current activities, Olivia shrank her aura down to nonexistence and pulled out her Spellcraft textbook. She’d been working through all of her texts in the hours they’d spent in the large, bright hall. While Morgan charged gems with Energy, and he and Bronwyn sparred, Olivia studied. She still got in some exercise; Bronwyn was a very competent hand-to-hand combatant and took an hour or two each day to help Olivia practice grappling. Olivia didn’t fancy herself a fighter, and she never expected to win a fight that way, but she figured it never hurt to exercise, and it gave her an excuse to spend more time with Bronwyn.

She glanced over at the tent they’d set up, and a smile flickered over her lips. It had been Bronwyn’s idea to put up tents; they had no control over the bright lights in the hall and, as such, needed the structures overhead to get any sleep. It didn’t hurt that she and Bronwyn shared one while Morgan slept on his own. Her smile turned to embarrassment as she imagined Morgan listening to the soft sounds that must have been coming from her tent while she and Bronwyn perfected their makeout game—embarrassing but worth it.

After Olivia managed to get focused on her book, she read through a chapter or two, then switched to artificing. The last third of the book dealt with magical contracts, which Olivia found fascinating. The idea that you could create a contract, signed with each party’s Energy signature, that magically enforced the terms brought to mind a great many possible applications. Employment contracts, lending contracts, sales contracts—the possibilities were endless. Of course, it also raised a lot of concerns; what if the two parties were at a disparate level of status or means? Would it be possible to trap a needy employee into an unfair contract enforced by magic? Was there any oversight or regulation of such things?

While practicing writing Energy contracts and other spell diagrams, she’d grown frustrated with her ability to actualize the images in her head, and she realized her dexterity attribute was holding her back. She added her free attribute points to dexterity but didn’t know if it would be valuable in the long term—would she need to create spell patterns and magical documents when she was high level? She hoped so because she rather enjoyed it.

She’d practiced making one of the magical contracts with Morgan and Bronwyn; they’d made an agreement about who would make dinner for a week because Olivia wanted to practice adding in an expiration component.

It had been strange to feel the tug of Energy on her Core when the time came for her to make her meal, and she’d tried to resist it. A shiver of cold had started to clamp on her Core, and the longer she held out, the more severe it became. She’d given in after postponing for an hour, just to see what it felt like. None of them had been able to resist the contract terms for long; once you’d grown accustomed to Energy and had it coursing through your body, quite literally sustaining it, that deprivation became almost like having air denied to your lungs.

Morgan had found the experience valuable and commented that it was good to know what it was like and that he couldn’t see himself ever entering into a binding Energy contract. Olivia was inclined to agree, but she didn’t need anything right now. What if someone offered her a valuable bit of knowledge in exchange for a task or short-term employment? “It’s possible,” she said to herself.

“What’s up, bookworm?” Morgan asked as he and Bronwyn approached their makeshift camp. They were both sweaty and breathing heavily. Morgan took his usual seat on the fur-covered chest; he still hadn’t figured out an easy way to sit on the floor with his wings furled. He’d gotten a lot more comfortable with them, though—taking short flights around the room and agilely using them to leap and dodge during combat practice.

“Just reading about more complicated contract provisions,” Olivia said, smiling and lifting her chin as Bronwyn leaned down for a quick kiss. Morgan, to his credit, didn’t say anything. Instead, he held his hands out in front of himself and created a rip in reality so he could look at Issa.

“You know, every time you do that, you’re adding more time to your Energy regeneration. Which, you know, adds more time before you can see her for real,” Bronwyn said, plopping down on the furs near Olivia.

“Yeah, but I’m only human!” He glared at them and continued, “No cracks about my wings, alright?” He looked back at his scrying window, and his brow furrowed. “She’s in that doctor’s office again. You guys think something’s wrong with her?”

“Do they look upset?” Olivia asked, just as she had the first time he’d seen Issa on the exam table.

“No, they’re smiling and laughing.” Morgan nodded, his face more relaxed.

“She’s an alien to the people in First Landing. Maybe she volunteered for them to study her or something,” Olivia added.

“Yeah, she’s fine, Morgan.” Bronwyn had spread a towel out in front of herself and was setting down sandwich-making supplies.

“Sandwiches again, Bron?” Olivia sighed.

“Hey, it’s my turn, and I like sandwiches!” They’d all agreed to share one meal a day, even though Morgan said he could probably go a week between meals. They had plenty of supplies left, and an end to their exile was in sight—Morgan had more than two-thirds of the gems charged up and ready to try with Olivia’s portal spell. She’d spent some time over the last week perfecting the pattern, polishing its design by removing redundancies and streamlining it.

“Speaking of which,” Morgan said, closing his window with a crackling snap, “I’ve got to use the restroom.” He stood and walked to the far corner of the hall where they’d erected a makeshift curtain around a hole that Olivia had blasted through the marble with her Pyrosteam Drill. When she’d cut through the marble, they’d all been rather weirded out by the black expanse that opened just a foot or so beneath the dungeon's structure.

“Don’t fall in,” Bronwyn laughed.

“Good one,” he said and flapped his wings, bounding into the air and scattering Bronwyn’s lettuce away from her.

“Jerk!” she called after him. She turned to Olivia and said, “Those wings are turning him into a monster!”

“Oh, come on, he’s just messing around.” Olivia flipped her text closed and said, “What kind of sandwiches today?”

#

“Arthur?” the woman asked, stepping up to his table at the tavern. She was wearing the uniform of the standing militia, the ones guarding the gates.

“Yes?”

“A man has come in through the northern gate; he’s one of the ones that went missing back in the early days, and he has an entourage. He wants to meet with the council.”

“Entourage?”

“Yeah, a bunch of those thin, winged folks, the, um, Ghelli.”

“Oh? Who is the man?”

“Cal Jennings? Does it ring a bell?”

“No, I’m afraid not. Well, did you bring them to the council building?” Arthur wiped his mouth with his napkin and pushed aside his half-finished bowl of stew.

“Oh, no, sir, but Sergeant Childs did. They’re probably already there.”

“Very well, thank you. I’m sorry I’ve forgotten your name . . .”

“Kennedy, sir. Corporal Kennedy.”

“Very good, thank you, Corporal.” Arthur stood and briskly walked out of Green’s Tavern. He turned to the right, waving to people who called out greetings, then marched up the street to the new council building.

When he arrived, he found Maria Rios already sitting down at the council chamber, speaking to a bearded, dark-skinned man with a cheerful face and gleaming white teeth. More to Arthur’s interest, though, were the others seated around the table: a Ghelli woman next to the man Arthur assumed was Cal, an older, more petite Ghelli woman, and three Ghelli children from a toddler to a young boy, to a teenage girl.

“Ahem,” he said, walking up to the empty seat at the head of the table. “Pleased to meet you all; I’m Arthur Ballard.”

“Well, hey there, Arthur! Long time no see! I’m Cal Jennings, one of the livestock techs from the Pilgrim. I’ve got a lot to tell you, but let me start by introducing my wife, Lysee, and her family.”

“Yes, have a seat, Arthur,” Maria said. “This is Lysee, her mother Vella, and, let’s see if my memory holds up—Gelyss, Bren, and Vonna.”

“Exactly so! Thank you, Miss Maria,” the woman Cal had indicated as his wife said.

“Excellent. I’m pleased to meet you all.” Arthur sat down, clearing his throat again and looking at Cal. “We assumed you were dead, I’m sorry to say, Cal. I’m so happy to have you prove us wrong! You must have quite a tale to tell.”

“Well, I sure do! I was just getting started telling Maria, here. I can rewind, though!” Cal had a genuine, effusive manner, and it made Arthur want to smile along with him. “I was snatched up by a big ol’ girl named Whitestar. She’s one of those Urghat. She was going to bring me to her people and probably throw me in the stew pot, but over the course of a few days, I think my winning personality started to wear her down. She ended up dumping me in a forest up by those mountains north of here. That’s when Lysee and her people found me.” He sat back, lifted the glass of water on the table, and took a long pull.

“Well, I’m certainly glad you won free of the Urghat. We’ve had some luck dealing with some of them, but they seem quite combative for the most part,” Maria said to fill the air.

“Yes, quite,” Arthur added.

“Right, well, I didn’t really win free. Whitestar’s an okay sort, I think. I hope she didn’t wind up dead in the battle you all had.”

“I wish I could tell you, Cal. Unfortunately, many Urghat died assaulting our walls, and I have no idea what any of their names were. It’s really quite tragic.” Arthur drummed his fingers on the table as he spoke, feeling a slight resurgence of the stress he’d lived through during the battle.

“Well, some hope is better than none,” Cal said. Then, as Lysee reached up to gently squeeze his wrist, he continued, “Anyway, Lysee and some others were out foraging when they found me. They brought me back to their village, Shady Lee, and treated me real fine. I was kind of out of it for a while, having been nearly swallowed by a great cat monster.”

“He was quite a mess, but his friend, Whitestar, had treated his wounds; he would have lived without our help,” Lysee added.

“Well, long story short, Arthur, I ended up falling for Lysee here, and when I married her, of course, I married her whole family. Well, I’ve finally talked them into coming ‘round to meet my people, and I think we might settle down here for a while. I’ve begun to make a name for myself among the Ghelli as a Spirit Singer, and I think my talents might be appreciated here in First Landing.”