Pa’s gone home. He’s with The King now: free of pain, free of chains.

My soul still sings, hungry to free more, to use what I know, to use what I’ve been Given, to make a difference.

But right at this moment, I feel… odd. Alive, definitely alive, but also really… weird. Almost like the time Pa left his max fermented keifier on the lower shelf and I thought it was regular milk mixed with honey. After the fourth bottle, I was feeling fine. But the milk tasted really weird.

The thought of Pa brings a strange release, one I know will bring pain, but right now brings a sense of peace and homecoming.

I blink open my eyes, seeing hazy individuals poking at the slumbering creatures on the ground. The sprites work together, freeing the orbs above the slumbering creatures.

A breathy sigh escapes me as the tension of battle dissipates.

I slump forward. Hands catch me before I can face plant, pulling me upright where I sway on my knees, content to just sit here for a moment in the lingering peace and joy. Something tickles my nose, but I’m not gonna strain my hand to itch it. That'd take way too much energy.

“What should we do?”

“Has she ever done this before?”

“Is she dying?” this from a squeaky Natasha makes a smile curve my lips.

“Not… dying… yet,” I whisper, and everything stills around me before a tiny being crashes into my chest and knocks me back into another, much broader chest. I pry open my eyes to see Natasha plastered against me, crying and beating her tiny fists into my collarbone.

“Don’t—hiccup—you ever!” Hiccup, hiccup, cough. “Do that again!”

I raise my hand with concentrated effort, feeling my Gift flow through me, lending me her strength. My legs tingle as if they’re asleep, and I can’t feel my feet and my lips feel as if they've been separated from my body.

But I have no numbness of my emotional capacity.

Where the heck is my Curse?

Shhh. Don’t tempt it! Ran hisses, both in my mind and in life. My lips grow into a grin. How I’ve missed her!

But then she licks my face from chin to hairline, and I’m left gasping for air and trying not to gag because that would take way too much energy. Natasha glances up, then she jumps from my chest as a splatter of saliva drops from my chin and—

She retches, throwing up against the wall.

“My—gag—mouth was OPEN!”

Laughter bursts from my chest. It’s the semi-insane laughter of one on the verge of either laughing or crying, so I took the easy way out. I laugh until tears stream down my face and Natasha is looking at me with a hand on a cocked hip and a look of pure fire in her pink eyes.

“What the flippity gibdet are you laughing at, moron?”

The fairies actually pause to gape at their princess, which I take to mean those words are pretty strong in her language. “Want some more?” I ask, wiping my cheek and flicking saliva at her for good measure.

I exchange a fond glance with Ran, remembering when I did the exact same thing… and what she eats. I swallow a little hard, attempting not to think overmuch on what might currently reside on my face.

Natasha’s face screws up and turns pale. “Ech! I’m gonna be sick again and then you’ll be wishing you’d never lived—” She cuts off, watching Ran, who licks her lips, then hangs her tongue out, panting. Natasha watches as a single glob of slobber drips from the end of her tongue and splashes against the cold grey floor. Natasha groans, pushing her forehead against the wall. Gag, cough.

I lean back, looking behind me and not surprised when Silver eyes creased with concern meet me. “Hi,” I whisper with a little smile and awkward wave.

“Hey yourself. Are you alright?” he asks, squeezing me a little tighter. I have to fight back a blush when I’m reminded of how I’m practically in his lap.

“I’m fine,” I say, my voice lighter than it has been in a very long time as the weight of the worlds is taken off my shoulders so I may work in my purpose.

He raises a brow.

“Really, I do… this time,” I whisper petulantly, genuinely blushing when his eyes twinkle.

“When have you ever told me a lie before?” he teases, kissing the side of my head.

“Hey princey, no flirting with my daughter in my presence, kapeesh?”x

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, shooting Momma the smile which would cause a female cockroach to die of hormones. It’s the one which twists up one side of his mouth, revealing that adorable dimple, and makes his gorgeous silvery eyes stand out against the deep tan of his skin and highlights the strong and elegant plains of his face. He even has a little shadow where it looks like he hasn't shaved in a few days... which is a rarity. He's always freshly shaved. But I love it either way, the way the slopes and dives and divets collide to make something even the elves would be fascinated with.

I think I’m loopy, cause I’m describing his face as if it were a work of art.

It is a work of art, myself argues with myself.

I giggle.

Silver scoops me into his arms. “Did you just giggle?” he whispers, his voice a bit hoarse.

“You’re face is a work of arrrrt,” I whisper in a sing-song voice Jill would be proud of, touching his cheek in fascination. A part of me dies in mortification. But the other part of me—which is currently running the show—is so giddy it giggles again.

“Mrs. Dragonheart?” Silver says, sounding kinda spooked.

“My Silver,” I say, patting his cheek like a grandma would her favorite grandson. His eyes grow wide, and his mouth goes slack.

“Mrs. Dragonheart!” he says again, a bit more urgently.

“What’s the matter, dear? I’m working on a stab wound and another fairy who nearly gave himself a concussion by running into the wall plus a—” Momma stops when she sees me, and something on my face makes her freeze in her tracks. “Oh,” she says.

“Oh,” I repeat in a dire voice, giggling.

“She’s drunk,” Silver deadpans.

“She’s not touched a bottle of alcohol since an incident in her childhood. Mayhap a mushroom?” Momma wonders aloud, touching my forehead.

“Not exactly. This can happen when a Gift reaches its full potential,” a serene yet elegant voice pipes up. The sprite queen plops on my chest. I pat her head, and she has to duck to get out of the way when my hand decides to stop listening and drops, nearly smushing her. “She’s a bit drunk on power. It’ll fade as her body gets used to the full extent of what she’s been Gifted.” She smiles at me, her teeth white and glistening and her face softening. Her wings are still slightly tattered, but… she can fly. And she’s here.

“You’re alrights?” I whisper, blinking languidly.

“Dear one, I am fine.” She pats my chin with her tiny hands, her smile soft and warm. “You’re surely going to be just fine, too, deary. Just hold tight.”

I grin down at her. “Hold tight,” I repeat, giggling again.

“When does this… end?” Silver says, his face a tad paler than usual. He still looks like a spooked colt readying to bolt. Which is saying something because he literally followed me into the enemies den without a second thought.

“You a colt,” I say, slurring my words. “A big, handsome, gorgeous colt.”

“I may have to get you drunk more often,” he replies, his grin quailing when he catches the glare of my mother.

“Is everyone ready to travel?” he asks, quickly changing the subject.

Momma sighs, pushing the hair back from my face. “A few more wounds, and we’ll be ready. We need to move before they return.”

The smile dies and Silver's jaw clenches. “Quickly then.”

“Yes, sir,” Momma sends him a snappy salute.

Silver hides a smile, his eyes twinkling as he leans down to kiss my forehead. “Just as snarky as her daughter. The family resemblance is fascinating,” he says dryly.

“Snarky,” I repeat, deepening my voice to try to get the tones right and failing miserably. He chuckles, making me bounce on his chest and a warmth flutter in my chest.

“Just rest, Mau Tigress. I’ll watch out for them while you take a break,” he whispers, kissing my nose.

My eyes get heavy. “Rest,” I whisper, everything fading to spots and then blackness.