We had killed so many Guttergrowls that their bloody carcasses danced behind my eyelids, and now all I needed was sleep and a good meal. But before any of us could call it a day and get some rest, one more pack awaited us.

  Nefa sprinted toward them, making sure she was seen, even letting herself get dangerously close to being caught before darting away and changing direction.

  Once she was out of the way, the boomerang cocked in my hand, my eyes locking onto one.

  “There we go,” I said, lining up the beast.

  When it stopped, the boomerang sailed, striking the broken chain around the creature’s neck and snapping back to me.

  The [Exchange] flared, and the green-skinned creature fell under my control before I cut it down.

  We repeated the process until they were all dead, and I had reached level 32.

  Nefa, on the other hand, had climbed to 34 while Sparks reached 30, unlocking better missiles. We still hadn’t tested them yet, since the plan kept her in support, but I knew they’d be as dope as her previous ones.

  After carving through hundreds of the beasts, my arms throbbed from fatigue. My hamstrings and calf muscles were sore to the touch, and don’t get me started on my back from all the crouching.

  A quick potion would’ve granted me relief, but I wanted to preserve our limited supply.

  Anyway, after this batch of slobbering dogs was taken down, I planned to open the inventory, go over everything, and prepare to set up camp for the night.

  But if I said I wasn’t nervous about sleeping under the same roof as Nefa, that’d be a bald-faced lie.

  Her feisty mood and abrasive attitude kept me from saying how I felt. It was confusing—one minute she’d be flirting, the next she’d be calling me names and pressing that doggone scythe to my neck.

  If Sparks had her way, she’d tell me to ditch Nefa and find the trials on our own. Her jealous self. Still, I thought it was kind of cute how overprotective she was. But I didn’t need anyone looking after me like my mom did.

  Thinking of her, and everything I’d left back home, still stabbed me with a sharp pain in the chest—unless I was watching Nefa’s body slicing through monsters, that is. I guess connecting with someone on a deeper level was new and exciting, and it made me forget what I was going through.

  Cashius was more like an older uncle, the type who’d let you sneak a sip of beer when nobody was around. Fun to be with and always teaching you something, but beyond that, he fell flat. He was cool, don’t get me wrong, but a young man like me needed female company, and Nefa felt perfect for me.

  Moments later, we finished off the last Guttergrowl, leaving the area clear.

  Now we just had to find a dip-off spot out of the way and see where the evening led us. Hell, tonight I might even tell Nefa how I felt—and see what she said. Or not.

  When it came to matters of the heart, you never knew where you stood unless you spoke up.

  The complicated part was that I didn’t want to risk my friendship with Nefa or put her willingness to get me to the trials in jeopardy. The young woman was deadly, and I respected her on the battlefield.

  But if I said something and she didn’t feel the same way, I’d die of embarrassment, for real, for real. Come to think of it, I’d probably run off into the desert and let whatever beast I saw roaming the purple sands tear me to shreds.

  With Nefa, I’d figure something out, I was sure of it.

  Just then, a breeze swept by, carrying with it a cold that cut straight through me. Within minutes, I pulled on the cloak we had bought from Sulamen, draping it over my shoulders to fight off the chill and whatever else the night had in store. The white fabric stood out stark against the dark.

  On the outskirts of the desert, the nights weren’t too bad when the moons came out, cooler than the day but bearable. Out here, deep in the sands, it was another story. The air could freeze water. When I spoke, I could see my own breath trailing out in front of me.

  Sparks hated the sudden shift in weather. She tucked herself into my shirt pocket, blowing into her tiny hands to keep warm. I looked down and saw her shivering, no doubt regretting that we hadn't set up the cabin sooner.

  Nefa, on the other hand, wore the cold with pride, stalking the sands with a smug curl of her lip. Her amber colored eyes followed the horizon.

  “This area will provide a safe environment for us to sleep,” she said, turning her head towards me. “It’s close to the mountain we need to climb tomorrow and out of the way of monsters.”

  I stopped, my feet sinking into the sand. “Looks good to me,” I said. “I’ll get the cabin set up, and then we can head inside for dinner.”

  Nefa plopped down in the sand, cross-legged, her eyes fixed on me.

  “Hurry,” she said. “I want to see you build a whole cabin without a scrap of wood.”

  I shook my head. “It’s much easier than that… watch.”

  I opened my inventory, selected the cabin, and tossed it onto the sand.

  In an instant, the structure unfolded and locked into place. Nefa’s eyes went wide as dinner plates.

  “I heard that out east the magic they perform is strange,” she said, unfolding her legs, “but never this practical. If we had this for our tents, setting them up would be much easier.”

  I stepped onto the stairs and beckoned for her to follow.

  Nefa ignored me, instead tapping the banister to test its durability. She picked up a stone and threw it against the side of our home for the night, then peered through the windows and nodded as if satisfied.

  “Please, come on,” I said. “It’s getting late.”

  The damned woman took her time, testing every detail—the stairs, the door, even climbing onto the roof and stomping hard enough to send dust raining down on me.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Damn it, woman,” I muttered, brushing it off. “Now you’re getting on my nerves.”

  I dropped into one of the porch chairs while she continued her inspection. Sparks huffed, clearly done with the nonsense, and zipped inside through a crack in the door.

  When she was finished, she walked to the foot of the stairs and nodded. “It looks safe, but I’m still skeptical,” she said, folding her arms. “A compact home you can expand in seconds doesn’t sound right. But just so I can say I’ve done it, I’ll sleep inside for the night,” she added, then climbed the stairs.

  I shrugged. “At this point, I don’t care where you sleep.”

  I stood and went inside, slamming the door behind me. Before it closed, she used her speed and was suddenly standing right behind me.

  “Damn it, if I’d known you were that eager for my presence, I would’ve come inside sooner,” I said, eyeing her up and down.

  She smirked. “Don’t flatter yourself, foolish man. I only came inside because it would have been rude not to share a roof, and I’ve never been in a dwelling like this before.”

  “You’ve never been inside a home?” I asked.

  She stared at the couch. “We’re a desert people. The only place I’ve ever been inside is a tent, because of Linuux and his mind control. Didn’t I explain this to you?”

  “Well, I’ll get dinner ready, and Sparks can show you around.”

  Sparks buzzed to my shoulder and shook her head.

  “Come on, Sparks,” I said. “Nefa is our guest, and we can’t be mean to our guests.” I gave Nefa an awkward smile.

  “This battle fairy of yours is beyond rude. I’m surprised you haven’t trained her better.”

  Sparks paused, then zipped forward and smacked Nefa on the jaw, making her stagger back.

  Nefa swatted at her like she was a common housefly. Sparks dodged the blow. When she wound up again, I caught Nefa’s arm in my hand. “Come on, you two. Be nice while I make dinner, for God’s sake.”

  Sparks blew out a puff of air while Nefa’s frown slowly faded. “Come on, Miss Feisty,” she said. “Show me the inside of this wooden box.”

  The two wandered off while I went to the cabinets and pulled out meat and veggies, tossing them into a pot with my hand and a few spices. Then I washed plates, listening to Nefa’s voice carry from the hall.

  “I hope you know I am not sleeping in that room!” she screamed. “It smells horrible.”

  “Don’t worry,” I yelled back, drying dishes and setting the table. “You can have mine for the night.”

  When they returned, Nefa hovered in the sitting room. “Is this… a couch?” she asked, poking the cushions with her scythe. “I’ve heard stories of these big cushioned things.”

  “Why’d you pull that out?” I said, surprised. “Nothing here’s going to hurt you.”

  “I hope not.” She put the weapon away just as she drew it.

  “Jesus Christ, lady,” I muttered, exasperated. “Have a seat while I finish this. It’s actually very relaxing.”

  She took a seat, bouncing a little before letting out a breath. “Oh my, it is relaxing.” She twisted to the side and put her small feet on the couch. “I could drift off here so easily.” Her eyes closed for a moment.

  “Sorry, I can’t let you,” I said. “We need something in our stomachs before we retire.” The game was definitely enhancing my speech.

  She sat and spread both arms across the pillows. “It doesn’t beat the cushioning of the sand, but I can see why people would like these things,” she said, patting the cushions.

  I checked the lid on the pot, then walked over and took a seat beside Nefa.

  Sparks zipped out of nowhere and planted herself right between us, arms crossed, wings close to her body.

  “Sparks,” I said. “Be nice.”

  The smell of boiling meat and vegetables filled the room, savory enough to make my empty stomach growl.

  Nefa reached over, placed her hand on it, and laughed. “Someone is famished.”

  I jerked back at her touch, then forced myself to relax. “Yeah, I guess I am… famished, as you call it.”

  She drew her hand away. “Killing those beasts today with you was thrilling. Even if we cheated.” Her eyes met mine. “Your mind has a depth others in this world lack. It’s malleable. Able to adapt. In the desert, that’s valuable.”

  I looked down. “You’re valuable too, Nefa. You’re quick and decisive, the exact opposite of me. I like that.” I leaned closer.

  She began leaning in as well, fidgeting with her wrist. “You do?”

  “Hell yeah. You’re so nimble and—” I stumbled over the words.

  Before I could recover, she kissed me on the cheek—a quick, electric peck—then slipped off the couch and walked to the kitchen area before I could even blink.

  I blinked, still registering it. Sparks—whom I had completely forgotten about—was red as a Twizzler.

  “Sorry,” I whispered and left her there sitting on the couch.

  On her heels, I followed Nefa to the pot of food. She lifted the lid for a sneak peek, her face softening before she set it back down and turned to me.

  “It smells like you can cook,” she said. “How much longer until I can try your dish and see if it tastes as good as it smells?”

  “Soon. It just needs a little more time to boil and soften the meat. After that, we eat, then get ready for bed.”

  “Perfect,” she said.

  Sparks drifted to my side, eyes narrowed like she was firing icicles at me. I ignored her. What I wanted was Nefa, and I’d be damned if a three-inch battle fairy stopped me.

  I led Nefa to her spot at the table and pulled back her chair and sat awkwardly, shifting her body into different positions, clearly unsure how she was supposed to do it.

  I chuckled. “You’re not used to chairs, I see. It’s best to lean back and let the chair support you.”

  “It’s so stiff,” she muttered. “How do you foreigners sit in these things?”

  “It’ll feel better once we start eating… I promise.”

  I went back to the pot and gave it a final stir, then prepared our bowls the way Cashius had shown me. I even broke chunks of bread to dunk in the stew and set them neatly aside.

  By the time I finished, the table looked pretty good, considering how little time I’d had. Moving the bread closer to our meals, I sat next to Nefa and bowed my head in prayer. Something Cashius and I never did.

  “Dear Creator,” I began in a whisper, unsure if Orbralians worshiped the same God I did. “Thank you for all you’ve given us today—from the strength to overcome the obstacles we faced, to the wisdom we so often take for granted. Without your watchful eye, we would surely perish. Thank you for this food and nourishment. With a heart full of gratitude, we give thanks.”

  When I finished, both Sparks and Nefa were staring at me.

  “That was beautiful, Lamont,” Nefa said softly. “I’m sure the Maker heard every word.”

  Sparks, on the other hand, just sat at her bowl, her little face draped in sincerity. A warm feeling passed between us, and then, quick as ever, she wiped her eyes and dug into her meal.

  Nefa and I both looked at her, grinned, and dug in behind her.

  I watched Nefa’s face as she blew on the spoon and tasted my creation. The first thing I noticed was her eyebrows, how they lifted before her eyes closed.

  I tore off a piece of bread and handed it to her. Hours ago, those same fingers had killed Guttergrowls; now they grabbed the bread from my hand, dunked it into the stew, and chewed with the same roughness I had.

  Crumbs flew, followed by a grunt and even a belch.

  Her motions told me she wasn’t some dainty desert rose but someone who had been through things. A warrior with a warrior’s hunger. That was when I fell deeper in with her.

  I could share things with her. Tell her about the sound of a body being hacked in half that I had grown to love. About waking up not knowing what the day would bring, but hoping it would deliver something vile I could break.

  Pain from the life I left behind had grown into something else. A savagery born from an unfaithful girlfriend. From not chasing my dreams because of heartache. A dead father. Endless boredom.

  My eyes lifted from my meal and locked onto hers, saying things my mouth dared not. She smiled back with a mouthful of food, then went right back for more.

  When she was finished, she kicked back from the table, the chair scraping against the floor. “Now, a drink to ourselves and the challenge we face tomorrow,” she said.

  She reached inside her shirt and pulled out a flask made of animal skin, setting it on the table. “Drink with me, Lamont, and you too, Sparks.” Her eyes moved between us. “It is an honor full of respect, one that warriors share.” Her hand pressed against her chest.

  Sparks glanced at me, shrugged, then dragged an unused cup onto the table with far less energy than Nefa had shown when producing the liquor.

  I grabbed two more cups from the cabinet and poured the fizzing drink into all three. “To respect,” I said, waiting for them to join me.

  Something inside me stirred at the word, a bond, an honor resonating through my core.

  “To respect,” Nefa answered, saluting before downing her cup in a single gulp. She slammed it onto the table, her eyes shining. “May the moons provide comfort,” she said and went into the room, closing the door behind her.

  I stared after her, yearning for closeness. “Now that’s a woman,” I said and cleared the table. “And with luck, she’ll have me.”