Chris eased open his heavy eyelids when he heard voices. At his show of life, Cassie's collapsed on her knees beside him. Her kiss was deep and brought warmth to his whole body.

And she wasn't alone. Behind her, there were two winged fairies observing them reacquaint. The bloody rooftop scene certainly had a way of stealing their attention, though.

"You remember Carina, isn't that right, Chris?" Cassie said as she broke free to check his wound.

Carina swept off her hood and crouched beside Cassie. She helped Cassie replace his soiled towel with a fresh one.

Chris tried to grin through his need to wince. "I do," he said, his voice strained. "I saw her last night, right before her sister smacked some sense into me."

Carina giggled while she folded up Chris's blanket. "Hello, Chris."

The fairy-male in the round spectacles—average in height, but solid, and industrious-looking—was busy collecting Chris's throwing knives from the slain Crown Champions. Once he appeared satisfied that nothing of value was left behind, he wiped the blades clean with a rag and brought them to Chris's pack. "You never know. We might still need these."

"And this is Orion," Cassie explained, "Vela's husband."

"Oh. It's nice to finally meet you."

He nodded once, the gesture sharp, but not in a manner that seemed personal or directed at Chris. Perhaps that was just his way. "And you as well," Orion answered. "Do you feel you can move? We must not linger. The full army is advancing. They won't make the same mistake twice."

Chris nodded and tried to maneuver himself to his feet.

"Let us help," Cassie said, taking his elbow.

Orion grabbed Chris's upper arm on his other side and together, they pulled Chris to his feet.

Carina handed Cassie his pack and took Cassie's place at his side.

"On the count of three," Orion said at the building's edge. "One, two. . ." On three, the two winged fairies supported Chris and leapt from the roof. The added weight made the descent more of a plummet than a flitter, but their wings were able to "brake" before they hit the ground. It was a rough landing, but only for Chris, because he was injured.

Orion then went to retrieve Cassie from the top of the building. Chris and Carina backed into the shadow provided by the dead Fire Breather.

"Is Vela all right?" Chris asked while they waited, knowing they were probably all at the wedding together.

"Yes, she's fine. She's already at Angelica's place with the children. After what the boys witnessed, they were a little reluctant to let their mother out of their sight."

"I can only imagine," he answered as Cassie and Orion joined them. She was light as a feather, so their landing was a natural, effortless swish. "Who's Angelica? Are we going there too?"

"Yes," Orion replied in Carina's stead, and didn't answer what he likely considered non-essential.

His militant manner would take some getting used to. . . .

Orion buzzed into the air and peered over the Fire Breather's carcass. He gave the "all clear, move forward" signal. And with Orion and Carina supporting Chris's weight, they all scurried across the lane and entered a perpendicular alley.

Orion lit a torch. Still, the passageway was dark, and also narrow and damp. Water was dripping down the cave walls, in a small waterfall in one instance. They couldn't avoid getting wet. Its splash was too broad.

"Angelica is a friend," Carina whispered to explain further. "She and her husband used to run a covert fairy smuggling operation during Andromeda's former reign. If you were on her Extermination List, you could pay for protection and transport out of Pyxis."

"We didn't know of this business until after her husband died, a couple of years ago," Orion added. "It collapsed in his absence and was unnecessary while your father was in power. Still, Angelica is the fairy to go to for our particular predicament. She knows just about every escape route."

"Well, the plan seems more promising than sneaking through the castle, right Cass?" Chris said over his shoulder. "I doubt that would work a second time."

"I would have to agree," she admitted. "I wish we could have enlisted her help the first time we needed to escape. I didn't know anything about the business, either. And I used to tutor their son, Victor, right inside their home. We all thought they were tailors. They were, by day, good ones, too, and they were excellent instructors. I learned to sew from them. It was the arrangement we had made in lieu of greens."

Their path was little more than a rocky crevice, too narrow for the four of them to walk side by side. Chris, the tallest, had to duck his head in a few places as well. There were occasionally little nooks with doors that were only about knee high. Were they for miniature fairies or just for the poor or the secretive? Or some combination thereof? Chris could only wonder. . . .

They turned left at a wall of solid rock. The new crevice took them farther away from The Mainway. Boulders began crowding them and the possibility of fairy occupancy seemed even less likely. Then, at one of the last visible signs of civilization, they brought Chris around the back of a boulder. He spotted a wooden door, and through the planks, there was a hint of light within.

They assisted Chris up a step and Orion tapped on the door with a rhythm that sounded like a code.

A winged fairy with messy black curls opened the door like a whip. She peered around as if suspicious by nature, and rushed them all inside by pulling and maneuvering them through the doorway.

Angelica, Chris assumed, and with a lantern in hand, she quickly led them through her tiny kitchen. Piles of fabric and half-sewn garments cluttered the square table, nearly too large for the cramped room. On one corner of the table, empty spools of thread were stacked like building blocks into the shape of a castle. It looked like the handiwork of a child with a proclivity for construction.

Angelica turned down a hall and approached what appeared to be a wall. But she cranked an unlit candelabra. The "dead end" shifted aside, leaving a black crack just large enough for someone of Chris's size to slip through.

"Everything you need should be down there," she mentioned to Orion. "I'll bring down some more clothes," she added as she took note of Cassie's "shirt-dress" and bare feet. Angelica's slight smile gave her face a hint of warmth. Without it, she would have appeared cold and indifferent. She seemed, to a large extent, hardened from a tough life, yet she was obviously fond of Cassie and her companions.

"Thank-you, Angelica," Cassie said. "We appreciate your hospitality on such short notice."

"You're welcome at any time," Angelica replied as she handed Cassie the lantern. "Let me know if there's anything else I can do to help."

Cassie led them down one of the cave's naturally occurring tunnels. She guided them to a place where the rock became flatter. The cave opened up into a clearing.

Vela was quick to greet Cassie and the rest of her family. Although she had an infant fairy bundled in one arm, she didn't hesitate to take control of the situation. "There are blankets set up behind these rocks and as many supplies as we could retrieve from the inn . . . before we lost it," she choked out, with an obvious heavy heart. "We don't have much, but we'll have to make do for now."

She wiped a tear away, and that was that. She was consumed by the next task.

Carina and Orion guided Chris over to the blanket and the sound of laughter pierced Chris's awareness. His head turned toward the source. Vela's older children were playing tag around the rocks. Two boys . . . brothers.

"I hate to bring it up," Chris said as he lowered to his knees, "since all of you managed to escape the chapel, do you think my family. . . ?"

Cassie unbuttoned and removed Chris's shirt for him and didn't make eye contact. Meanwhile, Orion, Vela, and Carina were exchanging grim glances, which could only mean one thing.

Orion was the first one to meet Chris's eye. "I'm sorry, Chris. It's unlikely they survived."

"Oh." Chris had a feeling that this was possible, but it wasn't easy to hear or accept. They had all been in and out of so many tight jams and lived to tell the tale. How could it all come to such an end for them? And unlikely was not definitely. Stranger things had happened. So should he abandon all hope?

Cassie and Orion helped Chris onto his stomach, and it was a good thing they did. Chris felt dizzy, clumsy, heavy, and pained. It was all too much. Without them, he probably would have collapsed on his face. "Did you see what happened to them?"

"We scrambled for the high windows, as did many of our winged peers," Orion answered. "But the Modifiers were not faring well. Your father and brother were obviously the primary targets and were centrally located. Last I saw, they were completely surrounded."

"There was not much you could have done, Chris," Carina added consolingly. "There were too many of them and too few exits. If you were standing by the altar with your family, you and the princess would likely be sharing their fate."

Cassie's light touch on his back restored some of his strength and put the world back into perspective. She was thankfully unharmed, his children were safe on the other side of the globe, and there was a chance he might live to see tomorrow.

Even with blankets on the ground, the rock beneath him felt even colder on his skin than the air did. Almost immediately, Chris was shivering uncontrollably.

Carina retrieved the two additional blankets and covered as much of his upper body as possible.

"It's freezing down here," Carina noticed with a shiver of her own.

"There's a pile of wood over there," Orion mentioned. "Why don't we start a fire?"

Once Carina and Orion left, Cassie removed the saturated towel from Chris's back. Then she started organizing the supplies she would need to properly dress his wound.

And Vela kneeled beside Chris, her concerns seemingly dissipating a bit once she made eye contact. "I don't think your blood was required to win her heart."

Cassie was threading a needle from the sewing kit, but she glanced at Chris and smiled.

"What can I say? I'm all about the grand gestures," Chris replied, talking to Vela but his eyes were fixed on Cassie. And they always would be.

Cassie kneeled beside Chris's abdomen, ready to start his stitches. "You should have seen him, Vela. He was amazing out there."

Vela winked at him. "Legendary, I'm sure. He'll be the talk of the South End for many years to come." Vela handed Cassie a bottle of fairy whiskey. She was also trying to console baby Lorna, the fussy infant in her arms. And that seemed to launch Vela to her feet. "Cassiopeia, I'll get out of your way. Do you need anything else?"

"I should be fine. Thanks so much, for everything."

"There's no need to thank me. Aurora Borealis is a mere memory. Our future rests in the hands of Mr. MacRae here. He's our ticket out of this place."

"But there's no pressure or anything," Chris chimed in.

"If you don't get well," Vela bantered back, hovering into the air. "I'll make you suffer more than that needle will."

Cassie then poured the alcohol over his wound. Chris pinched his eyes shut out of necessity. The burn of the alcohol hurt more than the wound itself. And then the needle pierced his skin. Chris wasn't sure he would remain conscious. He wasn't sure he wanted to. Soon he was begging his mind to turn out the lights.

Cassie continued stitching him up, occasionally stopping to dab more alcohol on the wound with a cloth. "How are you doing?"

"Um. . ." he groaned with his head buried underneath his arms. He didn't want her to see that his eyes were tearing up.

"I'll be as quick as I can."

He tried to nod, but any movement, even breathing was unbearable.

"It's true what I said to Vela a minute ago," she said, the sweet sincerity of her voice doing well enough to distract him from the pain.

Until that needle hit again. . .

"Hmm. . . ?"

"You were unbelievable. I've never seen anything like it. At least while you were gone for those painfully long years, you were doing more than 'sipping Mai-Tais' and 'working on your tan.'"

Poke. Tug. He briefly unclenched his jaw. "Okay. You caught me."

"You'll have to tell me about it sometime."

"Uh huh. . ."

Her stitches were moving in the direction of the severest pain. His muscles were so tense, they were twitching. He was only taking in short sips of breath when necessary.

At last, she cut off the needle. "There. All finished."

He exhaled completely for the first time in a long while.

After a final dash of alcohol and his corresponding wince of pain, Cassie rinsed her hands in a bowl of water and reached for the roll of bandages. Chris pushed himself onto his knees and lifted his arms for her.

Cassie wrapped the bandages around his torso. She finished the job with a tight knot and then a kiss. Then she went over to his pack and pulled out a clean button-up shirt for him to wear. She helped him into it and kneeled in front of him to button it for him.

Chris watched her expression as she moved up his chest. Her deep concentration probably had nothing to do with the buttons at her fingertips. By the last button, Chris finally caught her eyes. She smiled but it didn't remove the traces of worry. Or guilt.

"Do you need anything? Food? Water? Are you warm enough? Are you tired?"

Chris put one finger on her lips. "Shhhh . . . I just need you." He shifted onto his side and held open the blanket for her. She moved to join him, but she paused, looking around at the others first.

He recognized her hesitancy. There was intimacy and then there was intimacy with an audience. They were two different things. Although there was no doubt about her desire—not anymore—the newness of it all, with him or in general, was making her quiver.

"So, you want to know what I've been up to," he asked her.

She crawled into his arms and balled herself up, her back against his chest, her head and legs all fitting between his chin and knees. "You've been fighting. That much I can tell."

"You can?"

He pulled her close and the blanket high. At just a glance, it'd be hard to tell she was even there.

"You have more scars on your back than before," she turned her head to say.

"Well, I wish I could say the new ones were from a fair fight."

"What are they from?" she asked and then returned the side of her head to his arm.

"The Kanaloan Army's attempts at torture. They had me for fourteen months, seven days."

Chris felt her body tighten. He squeezed her to reassure her that he was okay. He had been through worse. "It was my own fault, really," he continued. "I rarely cooperated with them and even provoked them so they wouldn't bother Bane as much."

"Your other brother-in-law."

"You remember!"

"Kale, Alana, Simona, Jasmine, and Bane, the youngest," she recited.

"Wow, impressive! Yeah, during that time Bane became like a real little brother."

Chris should have chosen his words more carefully.

Cassie rolled onto her back and stared into the chasmal darkness overhead. She closed her eyes when the tears began to fall. "I am so sorry about your family, Chris. I feel entirely to blame. I hope you can forgive me for that."

"What happened to them is not your fault. Why would you feel that way?"

"I should have called off the wedding as soon as I found out you were alive. I thought you left again, and I was scared. That's a horrible excuse for going through with a wedding. But I couldn't let him go. And when you were about to leave me to help them, I convinced you not to. Why are you not angry with me?"

"Cass, there were a hundred things I could have done differently, too. But staying together was the right choice. Where would we be now if I left you to fend for yourself? Or left you at the inn, now gone."

"I don't know."

Cassie rolled toward him, placing her face against his chest. Chris held her tight as she released from her body the buildup of grief and anxiety, the despair and self-doubt. It had been years of heartbreak and tragedy, abuse and mental anguish, a lifetime of it for her.

Chris had his own fears and misgivings, but he tried to make her feel safe and secure. And it was working. Her breaths gradually became slower, deeper, and smoother and her body gradually released some of its tension.

When she began delivering light pecks over his neck and collarbone, which had a way of fluttering across his entire body, it was his turn to fall apart. Joy and sorrow. Grief and relief. Rather than balance each other out, their effects were cumulative. But his exhaustion was impossible to fight. He was asleep before he even had the chance to wish Cassie "good-night."

⭐️⭐️⭐️

Ingrid Michaelson. Keep Breathing.

~

"I want to change the world, instead I sleep

I want to believe in more than you and me

But all that I know is I'm breathing

All I can do is keep breathing"

https://youtu.be/Svfd999aej8