Guilt and terror strangled Raya as coalescing weeds and thorns, one sticky and slithering, the other cold as bone. She forgot to breathe.

A nest of beastfolk had been right, though she'd expected to have a moment to steel herself, to prepare and then walk through a waiting entrance of her own accord. Instead, she appeared to have spawned in its centre. The nest unfurled from all around as half-human creatures mounted the dune, prowling into the shape of an easily laid trap.

Their looming presence was deceiving; there were not many of them. She counted four figures within her view, all with teeth or claws that glinted and fur grown from where it shouldn't, though she was too stiff to dare turn around and check if any approached from behind. She ran the number over in her head, confirming it, holding close how small it was, knowing in the pit of her stomach that it was foolish reassurance. Four already made double, and numbers mattered little. These were beastfolk, and they weren't Corvin. Malice dripped from them as poison did from a cracked vial and laced a burning sizzle beneath her skin.

She ached to flee. Shoulders pushed back, teeth dug into her tongue, she knew she fought a losing battle to hide her fear. Her gaze ran in circles. With no safe spot to settle, her focus landed on the centremost figure, the man slowing to a halt directly in front of her.

He was at least a head shorter than his companions, small in every physical sense of the word, lithe and thin with a keen stare his size did nothing to diminish. The pale markings dotted across his nose and cheeks were too concentrated to be freckles, stark as stars against his cold brown skin. His hair was wild coils of flame that matched the scruff on his chin. A pair of triangular ears stuck up from amid the mess, both hung at crooked angles, with the sharp points of two loosely humanoid ears tucked underneath. He bounced on bare toes, the thick orange tail curled at his back flicking with every slight movement. The grin he wore mirrored that of a devious child gifted a knife.

"You came," he remarked. His accent was strongly reminiscent of Corvin's, if a touch nearer a whistle than a growl in its hollows. Smooth delight rolled the words together. "I did not believe you would. You surprise me."

Amina drew in a sharp, strained breath. In the corner of Raya's eye, the apprentice was a trembling statue, held stiff by the long, silvery claws latched around her neck from behind. She was undoubtedly strong—frustrating, but admirable, and braver than Raya could ever hope to be—but the resolve in her expression was fragile and crumbling away. Cracked steel glossed the amber of her eyes, the look of a girl contemplating her own death.

Perhaps guilt was the fiercer twin; Raya fought the onslaught of tears that suddenly spiked at the surface, their echoes burning her inside. She swallowed thickly, her throat awfully dry. "You were expecting me?"

One of his furry ears lifted in sync with the curve of his smile. "Of course." In a sudden burst of speed, he scurried up to her, face tilted towards hers and nose twitching as if testing her scent. She flinched, shaken by the heat of his breath on her throat. His fangs were small but jutted over his lip when he grinned.

"You are Raya." Each syllable of her name pushed out separately, detached, their hushed pattern dusting her chin. "Yes?"

Unease trickled down the back of her neck. "I am," she breathed.

Glee swelled to light up his face, and he reached up a hand. Raya leaned away from it, but it found a place to settle anyway, bony fingers tracing her cheekbone before rounding her ear to thread through her short, choppy locks. His touch dropped free with a soft tug. "I have heard many surprising things about you, Raya."

Raya pushed her shoulders back, hand swimming through the folds of her cloak to brush the pocket that held Corvin's flute. Calm. Steady. She nodded once, stiffly. "Then you know I mean you no harm?"

"Truly?" His head cocked.

She told herself the sharpness to his gaze was keen curiosity and not a searching prowl, picking over her skin, dwelling on her taste. He was only predatory if she made him to be. That was what her heart and the smooth touch of the flute said, though a more rational part whispered she had to trust him either way—if she fought him, she wouldn't live to see the next nightfall.

"Truly." She pulled on the edge of her sweet, practised smile. Her parched lips twisted it all wrong; with her brother's collar pinning her throat, the thought of charm brought a sick feeling to her stomach.

"Very interesting." Tail swishing from side to side, the beastfolk man stepped back, tucking his hands behind him. He flicked a glance to her right. "Your friend also?"

Under his scrutiny, Amina's jaw tightened. Hatred leaked through her tense fear, her fiery glare cutting through the twist of her frown and quiver of her lower lip, but she accepted Raya's hurried attempt to catch her eye. A few drawn-out seconds passed as Raya's heart thumped and her head filled with silent pleas, but finally something broke through. The worst of Amina's anger melted into resignation. Her clenched fists unfurled, but none of her tension released.

"Sure," she bit out. The spindly claws resting under her chin inched upward, and she flinched, nostrils flaring.

Raya swivelled her attention back to the man—he carried himself like a leader, so she could only assume they'd listen to him. "Yes, she's with me, but only if you ask your friend to release her." She hoped her stare sufficed as confidence.

His lips twitched. He looked only faintly amused at her attempt to intimidate, but nevertheless he complied. At the wave of his hand, the slender figure pressed to Amina's back withdrew, and a sigh of relief sagged the apprentice girl's shoulders. Whether knowingly or not, she shuffled a step closer to Raya's side.

"Then we are all friends here." The man spread his hands, sinking into a small bow that lifted his ears and tail in kind. "You are both my guests."

"Guests?" Amina echoed. Even without looking at her, Raya could sense the way her nose wrinkled, disgust dripping from her tone.

If the man registered it, he didn't let on. There wasn't a chink in his grin as he straightened and scampered to her side. "Yes. You will follow me?"

His question was anything but. His elbow nudged her arm, his tail cooling her back with a draft, encouragement to move that lacked aggression but could not be refused. Her skin prickled as the other Feralites closed in, forming an arc behind. Something bumped Raya's spine, and her feet moved without hesitation. The sand was solid and distant against her bare soles. She felt as if she were walking half in a dream.

Amina stuck by her side, though her step was much less smooth. She stumbled every few paces, her frantic glances bouncing from one face to another, ever gravitating back to Raya with some kind of pointed, frustrated desperation. Raya wilted underneath it. Guilty thorns wriggled ever deeper into her heart; if she were the one expected to get them both out of this strange predicament, her mind was blank. She could only cling to her calm, to some skein of a notion of trust. If Corvin was here, he would help. He would have an answer.

Her mouth tasted sour. She was supposed to be here to rescue him.

The dune sloped downwards, soft and loose enough to send her feet skidding ahead of her. Amina slipped, snatched Raya's arm to save herself from falling, then let go and straightened sharply with a sniff. At her back, the feathered beastfolk trailing her tittered a laugh and dipped around her with a swimming grace, slim fangs gliding past her cheek to flash her a grin. Her dusty blue wings flared either side of her. Amina twisted her face to hiss back, her headpiece rattling amongst her frayed hair, as if they were each children playing pretend as beasts. Raya flinched as something soft and spiky brushed her thigh—the redhead's tail tapped against it, his body curled at her side and gaze a hook that snagged hers. He smiled, eyes deep and flickering like they shared in a private joke.

She evaded getting drawn into that stare, yet there was nowhere she could look that didn't deepen the chills sewed beneath her skin. When they reached the base of the slope, a modicum of dread skipped the edge of that chill; a hole burrowed into the side of the next mound of sand, chipping aside the grains to reveal bare, tan-coloured rock. A warm darkness huddled inside, slithering beneath the ground, and the beastfolk descended into it without hesitation. The red-haired man's claws skated over her sleeve, gently coercing Raya towards the opening despite the sudden weakness in her knees. She stole a nervous, fleeting glance at the boiling sun before she ducked her head and moved inside.

Thick shade swept over her. Daylight peeled away, and as its influence retreated, a shallower glow appeared to break up the darkness in the form of tiny green lights. They cast a pale sheen over the redhead's face as he scampered to face them, deftly back-stepping to remain in parallel with Raya.

He tipped a grin and a sweeping bow. "I have been rude, Raya. My name is Kyril." His gaze prowled from her to the side. "Your friend?"

Amina's spine snapped straight. "Amina Shi-Sabri," she bit out, voice sticky with reluctance.

Air was stiff in here and stale on Raya's tongue, yet she was sure it crackled in the pause that sank after her name. It was a brittle tension, and it strained beneath Kyril's mischievous stare. "Fanciful."

Fists clenched, Amina curled at Raya's side. "Powerful."

His nose twitched. "Meaningless."

Amina's entire being seemed to stutter. She inhaled sharply, but before she could argue any further, Kyril twisted back around with a skip and a flick of his furry tail. "I think you will like it here, my guest Amina. Keep following."

"As if," Amina growled. Her eyes were on her feet. Raya watched her, trying and failing to unpick something of comfort from the empty words caught in her throat. She swallowed thickly instead, gaze trailing to the dripping sandstone walls. Eerily lit in green, the water droplets had a jewel-like quality, like emerald earrings imbued with dust-cast enchantments.

Such a comparison was strange in a place so utterly devoid of magic. The further they descended into the belly of the desert, the more taut Raya's skin felt, as if scrubbed with a bone-dry cloth.

There was no mistaking this as a lair of beastfolk. Rock extended from all sides as teeth and claws, increasingly jagged, rougher and darker than the clean gleam of ivory. It smelled of mould, yet the chill it breathed was admittedly kinder than the sun. The tension refused to leave Raya's shoulders, however. She walked stiffly, stuck in a hard rhythm, until they curved into a wider space and everything regimented—the easy expectation of the place—shattered.

The walls, suddenly smoothed out in a pattern of frothy waves, curled in a loose oval around what could only be described as a dining room. Stone slabs for tables and little stools of branches snapped from desert scrubs filled the space, scattered without rote or pattern yet reminiscent enough of something normal to appear almost homely. Shallow wooden bowls clustered in similar disarray across each table, all full, and rich scents leaked across the room with the ease of curling steam. Raya held her breath, light-headed. Food rarely smelled this appealing.

A low keening noise sounded from beside her; Amina shifted from foot to foot, arms crossed tight over her chest. Her jaw was set, expression forcibly grim, but longing flickered clear in her eyes.

The beastfolk were not so subdued. A series of howls and whoops clamoured around them, loud enough to make Raya flinch, and they descended on mass from behind. The winged woman who'd taunted Amina shoved both mages apart to dive between them, nicking Raya's cheek as she passed with a feather's thin edge. Using a stool as a springboard, she pounced onto the stone table and snatched a stick of something soft and shaded like rust that dripped moisture. It crunched when she sank her fangs into it.

Kyril laughed. He was the only one who remained standing, hands clasping one another as he observed the room in a stance not entirely dissimilar to a senior mage on observation. He backed up beside Raya and nudged her with an elbow. "I said guests." Leaning uncomfortably close, he threw out his arm in a wide, gesturing arc. "I prepared this for you."

Raya felt as if her organs were learning to knit, tangling one another in thick, squeezing loops. "For me?"

"For both of you." His gaze bounced from her to Amina and back again, shining in the unnatural light. "You are lost?"

Amina's stare was bladed, cutting into the back of Raya's neck, resting at her throat when she forced her head to shake.

"The desert is a cruel place to be lost." He moved nearer, raised on his toes to peer into her face, the fur on his chin brushing her chest. "You will be hungry."

The harsh detachment of his voice made it difficult to read emotion, yet she wished every phrase he spoke wouldn't sit so low and so close to a threat.

He slid away from her before she could process any will to respond and snatched up Amina's forearm instead. She made a half-hearted effort to dig her heels in that was quickly toppled; there was little resistance bunched in her shoulders as she was towed in the direction of the crowded tables, despite the frantic look she shot Raya's way. Under Kyril's pointed shove, she sat stiffly, gaze flicking to the wild feathered woman. A bowl was forced into her hands. Kyril curled around her, tip of his tail flicking at her back, made of sharp smiles. Several minute emotions fluttered like shadows over Amina's face, lips wriggling into an unsettled grimace. All-too-familiar hate pooled in her ember-flake eyes, but with a guarding arm pressing the bowl to her chest, she began to eat.

Raya felt like a fool. Statuesque in the corner, she watched the motion with an odd sense of detachment, acutely aware of the unfeeling rub of stone against her bare soles and little else. The greenish shadows settled over her were both comforting and othering. If she were to hover so awkwardly in any other setting, there would be stares; the lack of attention flipped the world upside down and left her sinking. Her skin tingled.

"Not hungry?"

Kyril's sudden and silent appearance at her shoulder made her flinch. Doing her best not to look his way, she licked the inside of her mouth in an attempt to conjure up moisture. The pain in her stomach was slick and hard, tainting the warm scents of the room with nausea, but it was an easier punishment to bear than guilt. She remained a liar at her core. "No."

He studied her, eyes glittering like gold buried in soil. "Fine." His fingers picked hers apart, palm sliding against hers in a too-tight hold. He tugged gently backwards. "Walk with me."

It was an invitation she should've fought, but something about his pinched grin was entrancing. Curiosity's whisper cast a cloud over the forefront of her mind. Her legs moved without explicit permission, and she followed him back into the stale half-light of the tunnel.

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