Evelyn’s ink strokes were ravenous. Each letter barely reached the second line before she crumpled it, reducing it to ash in her hand. She held her balled fist over a cup, ash filtering from her fingers like sand. The study was once a small space where she could relax, but now it had turned into a frustrating cube of indecisive word-smithing.

  A puny screech filled the air like a crow cawing at dusk. A shadow crawled into a door flap embedded in the wall. Webbed wings flittered and flapped into the room; a scaled tail swung around until two tiny claws found footing on a perch near an empty bird cage. Beady gecko eyes stared at Ziva as she reached towards a small sack beneath the cage, pulling out a piece of beef. The drake leaned forward, head tilting left and right like an inquisitive chicken. The boterpel reached for it with a foot like a parrot, chewing it with tiny teeth. Each time its tongue readjusted the meal, its eyes would shut tightly, popping back open. Ziva reached for a leather pouch on the boterpel’s chest. A letter had been rolled inside, bearing a wax seal resembling a dragon.

  “A letter from Siacus.” Ziva handed the rolled parchment to Evelyn. She grabbed it quickly, melting the seal beneath her fingers.

  Evelyn unraveled the letter, scanning the first few lines. Her curiosity soon morphed into concern as she sat at her desk.

  “Did something happen?” Ziva asked.

  “More sightings, this time in Windau.” Evelyn summed up the letter as she read, “He’s heading overseas for Khadina. All this hassle… she’s not worth it.”

  “You don’t sound very pleased.”

  “I told him to come back after a few weeks. It’s been months. He needs to return, how else am I going to explain all of this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Evelyn started to spin her wedding ring with her thumb.

  “Ziva, you see it too, don’t you? I haven’t gone mad.” Tears lined Evelyn’s eyelids.

  “See what, Evelyn?” Ziva asked, “A boy that needs help?”

  Evelyn struggled to speak. She coughed into her sleeve.

  “You’re worrying me, Evelyn.” Ziva said pointedly. She put her hand on Evelyn’s, “Whatever you think, there is a boy that needs you. You understand the dangers of uncontrolled pyromancy. You’re the only one that can help him.”

  “I’m not worried about his powers. I’m worried about his mind. What he’s been through… Ziva, I-” Evelyn inhaled in steps, her throat burned, “How he reacted to a hug. It-”

  “He’s scared.”

  “It was more than that.” Evelyn said. She could still feel where Roy’s fingers dug into her, “I don’t know how to help him.”

  “Warmth.” Ziva said, “That’s all you can give for now.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “It is to him.”

  Evelyn looked at her hand. She wanted to defy Ziva. She wanted to pull her hand out from under hers, but she couldn’t find the strength to do so. Her eyes met with Ziva’s.

  “I see this is important to you. Follow your instinct. You know what’s right.” Ziva slowly lifted her hand off of Evelyn’s, “I must rest. I’ll send Miruska once I return home.”

  “That would be best.” Evelyn said, “Thank you, Ziva.”

  Ziva smiled. There was a slight hesitancy as she headed to the door. Evelyn waited with bated breath as the door slowly latched shut. She listened for footsteps as they made their way down the hall. Evelyn closed her eyes, her breath shuddering as it left her lips.

  An overreaction. She thought. Her assumptions flew around her.

  Roy was not special. He was an orphan, found frozen on the side of a mountain. Evelyn couldn’t help but reach out to the hope that he was more. She locked the door as she left the study. She walked down the hall towards the staircase. Torchlight illuminated the halls, bouncing off the metal chest plates of guards. Spears with dragon heraldry were held at attention for her passing. Two men opened the door for her as she stepped into the powdery courtyard. Evelyn put a finger to her eye, wiping tears as snowflakes landed on her dress. She rounded the base of a tall stone statue, gazing up at a man she once knew. He watched Kriedeberg with careful eyes behind a dark visor, his sword pointed out at the rising moon.

  Evelyn ran her fingers across the base of the statue. The cold stone was a welcome feeling. Heat seared inside her. Her empty stomach started to feel uneasy.

  The orphanage was built next to the great hall. There was always a guard at the door. Many children had entered Kriedeberg over the years. Most were orphans found by Siacus. Others were mages, offered up by their parents in hopes they would have a better life.

  Evelyn’s breath fogged against the wooden door as she racked her knuckles against the surface. She peeked into glass panes on either side of the building. Three pairs of eyes were already looking at her. The door opened. Lina greeted Evelyn with a wide smile and disheveled hair spilling out of her bonnet.

  “Oh, Lady Evelyn!” Lina laughed, “Such fortuitous timing!”

  “I see you’ve been busy.”

  “The boys have been rowdier than usual,” Lina said, “Sir Schenke arrived today to take Sven for training. They’re leaving for Gorharbach.”

  “I knew he could do it.” Evelyn smiled.

  “Normally you see the children off before they leave. Has something gone amiss?” Lina took Evelyn away from the drafty door.

  “We had a new visitor,” Evelyn said, “Lina, are there any beds available here? I may need one soon.”

  “There’s Sven’s,” Lina said, “Why?”

  “We found a boy on the mountain,” Evelyn said, “We’re trying to nurse him back to health in the great hall, but I’ll need my bed back eventually.”

  “How old is he?”

  “He looks young; no older than sixteen,” Evelyn said, “Do you have room for him?”

  “Of course.” Lina said.

  “How are the children? Warm and fed?”

  “They’re doing excellent.” Lina said, “In fact, we’ve received a new child yesterday.”

  Evelyn’s heart fluttered. Normally she was present the day a child arrived. She had never been late before.

  “Who?”

  “A little girl from the Sapfir sea. I’ve had some trouble keeping track of her. Her name is Ani.”

  “May I see her?”

  “You can try.” Lina said, “It’s been difficult getting her out from under the bed, though.”

  Lina walked down a row of closed doors. Some children were asleep, but the sounds of laughter and words crept out of the door frames.

  “Roarke, Percival! Bed!” Lina called into one of the open doors. Two boys scrambled to their beds.

  “Who found her?” Evelyn asked.

  “Locals from a fishing village. She was sneaking off to the docks at night, eating the fish they caught.”

  “Raw?”

  “I… it would be best if you saw her yourself,” Lina said.

  Lina opened the door to a room filled with darkness. A small bed sat in the corner, its blankets and pillows ripped off and dragged underneath it. A plate of dinner was left untouched at the door. As Evelyn took a step inside. The child shuffled deeper beneath the bed frame.

  “Ani?” Evelyn called gently. There was no answer.

  “She doesn’t speak,” Lina said, “We’ve tried.”

  “Give her time, this is all new for her,” Evelyn said, “Can you close the door?”

  “My lady, you won’t be able to see.”

  “I don’t need to,” Evelyn said. She knelt, her dress melting into the floor as she sat beside the bed. She put her hand slightly beneath it, stopping when she heard wood scraping again.

  “Do you need anything of me?” Lina asked.

  “No. I’m going to stay here,” Evelyn said, “The children need to be put to bed, and you need rest, too. I’ll watch Ani.”

  As the door slowly creaked shut Evelyn was left in total darkness. She closed her eyes and began to hum. She continued for minutes, her voice calm and soothing. She could feel Ani’s presence mere inches from her hand. She was drawn to Evelyn’s voice.

  Evelyn slowly shifted downwards, sitting on her rear, eventually laying on her back. She slowly pulled one of the pillows out from the darkness, placing it under her head. She kept humming. It only felt natural. A light breeze caressed Evelyn’s fingertips, escaping from tiny nostrils. It felt like an animal was smelling her skin. She tried not to flinch when small hands played with her ring. The shuffling became a light clack like hooves on wood.

  Evelyn kept humming, even as her eyes grew heavy.

  When Evelyn awoke, daylight had found its way into the room. The door was left ajar, allowing enough light to reveal soft beige fabric strewn across her body. She didn’t remember pulling the blanket to her. She laid on her side, yawning. There was a heavy weight on her bicep. Ani’s head fit into the crook of Evelyn’s neck. A mushroom-shaped nose flared as a tiny snout turned away from Evelyn’s mouth, burrowing into the covers. Two dog-like ears fidgeted as warm breath fell upon them. Ani’s hands were human enough, taking hold of Evelyn’s Kolibri pendant as she slept. Evelyn pulled the blankets over Ani’s legs. They resembled a horse’s.

  Ani was a Psoglav. It was rare to see one of her kind above ground, especially one so young. Evelyn had never seen one before. She was so small. The fur on her cheek was silky smooth like the coat of a puppy. She had the smell of one, too. Evelyn placed her hand on Ani’s back, holding her close. She closed her eyes again, her surroundings melting away. All that remained was Ani’s weight against her shoulder, and her tiny breaths on her neck.

  Evelyn’s thoughts turned to Luhan.