A delicate veil of clouds obscured the morning sun when Rachel awoke. Lana was gone, but a moment’s patience yielded that she was frying something divine in the kitchen. Rachel smiled and rolled to her stomach, intending to push herself to her feet, then paused.

  A strange reluctance twisted at her throat. She suddenly felt awkward, her memories of last night trickling back as her mind grew accustomed to the new day. What had she been thinking, coming on so strongly to Lana? Telling her so much, even? How could she face Lana after showing such weakness, and being rebuked?

  Then, she thought of Tassel. How he had left that night, and the awful feeling that had crawled through the dusky air as he prepared. He thought of what he might have done, what he might have found.

  Rachel stood up and strode towards the closed kitchen door. As repulsive as this conversation might be, she would much rather start her day with that than with any more cataclysmic news.

  “She’s alive!” Lana laughed as Rachel opened the door to the kitchen, almost tripping over the towel Lana had wedged underneath the door. “Sleep well?”

  “Well, my sanity and judgment have recovered,” Rachel said, almost stoically. “What’s with the towel?”

  Lana paused for a moment, cocking her head slightly. “Didn’t want to wake you up.”

  “And deny me the pleasure of waking up to a scent like this?” Rachel gestured to Lana’s frying pan. “You must be going mad.”

  The frying pan in question contained a hissing variety of green and red vegetables, as well as browned specks that Rachel assumed must be garlic. It smelled of the eastern shores, but Rachel could discern no more specifics. She assumed it was a Kadarian dish that had been lost to time by the time Rachel had made the pilgrimage two years prior.

  “What do you think Tassel got up to last night?” Lana wondered aloud, reaching for a smaller frying pan and cracking a large speckled egg into it.

  “I don’t want to know,” Rachel snubbed. “Speaking of Tassel, how did you warm the cooktop?”

  “I woke him up,” Lana whispered giddily. “I didn’t want to use the wood stove while you were asleep.”

  Rachel’s sternum ached at the thought of Lana reaching to Tassel as he slept. “You could have woken me up.”

  Lana deflated. “I was trying to be sweet.”

  Rachel almost retorted, but just barely managed to stop herself. She took a calming breath and let Lana’s response settle in the air before she responded.

  “It was sweet,” Rachel admitted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to react that way.”

  “No, no, I get it,” Lana said in a way that made Rachel fear that she, in fact, very much did get it. “I didn’t think. Of course you would…”

  A derisive anger began to boil up through Rachel’s windpipe. “Stop.”

  Lana turned away from the cooktop to face Rachel, worry lining her eyes. “What’s-”

  “When people deserve your anger, don’t ask for their forgiveness.” Rachel stepped towards the cooktop and gave the big frying pan a shake. “You’re only inviting them to do it again.”

  “But you don’t deserve my-” Lana protested, but Rachel cut her off.

  “And do you deserve mine?” Rachel turned and stood over Lana, close enough to feel Lana’s breath on her neck. “Will you object to the injustice, or will you give me more ground?”

  Lana’s eyes widened, and she took a step back. “What’s gotten into you?”

  “No,” Rachel snapped, taking Lana by the shoulders and dragging her back. “Every step you yield is a step I gain. Hold your ground.”

  “But I don’t want to-”

  “No!” Rachel tensed her arms, but did not let herself lash out. “I messed up, Lana. Me. Not you. I should be stepping back.”

  “You won’t let me,” Lana mumbled, casting her gaze to the floor. “I say something, and I never know how you’ll react. I woke up our housemate so I could wake you up with breakfast. Evidently the effort was wasted.”

  Rachel turned away and pulled both frying pans off of the cooktop. The vegetables would survive, but the egg was beyond saving. “Yeah. I guess it was.”

  Lana sighed. “I know you’re just trying to do this to teach me to deal with Tassel.”

  Rachel kept her back turned, reaching for a stack of plates on a high shelf. “Mm.”

  “But, Rachel, Tassel doesn’t make me feel like this.” Lana stepped to the side, closing the kitchen door and leaning against it. “Sure, his ego is big. Sure, he needs us to further his ambitions. But he doesn’t wield my love as a weapon like you do. He doesn’t play with my trust like it’s a bargaining chip, like it’s all transactional, conditional.”

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  Rachel said nothing.

  “How much is too much?” Lana continued. “How much am I willing to go through in the name of all that I feel for you?”

  Rachel said nothing. Lana waited, staring accusingly at Rachel, until the fight drained from her face and she turned away. Rachel almost wanted to object, to force her to fight back, but she stopped herself.

  At what point was she no longer just preparing Lana to deal with Tassel? At what point would she become the enemy?

  “I thought the whole point of last night was to invalidate our feelings for each other,” Rachel said carefully.

  “To-” Lana stammered, a shocked expression invading her face. “Rachel, how awful-”

  “That’s not what I meant to say,” Rachel interjected. “Not to invalidate. To process and to let go. It’s evident that this, right now, isn’t meant to be. I don’t want it.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” Lana growled. “You wouldn’t be treating me like this if you didn’t want it. You’re just pushing me away to avoid the burden of self-control.”

  “You think I can’t control myself?” Rachel’s shoulders tensed for a brief moment before she regained control and pulled back, leaning against the counter.

  Lana crossed to the stovetop and pulled the now-smoking pans off of the searing surface. “That’s exactly what I think. You say you treat Matt and me the way you do to prepare us for what lies ahead, but I think you say that simply to conceal your own bitterness. If I were to put all my desires aside and take you at face value, I would say that all you have the self-control to do is to lie.”

  Rachel, once again, said nothing. She wanted to respond, to rebuke her with the same fervor with which Lana had just attacked her. It would be easy. It would accomplish her goals, even. If she truly wanted to push Lana away, to search for Matt or Jason or whatever face she could plaster upon her twisted definition of true love, this was the moment to do so.

  But she couldn’t. Even worse, Lana was right. About everything.

  “Yeah,” Rachel breathed. It was all she could do. She hoped it would convey what she couldn’t.

  “You will never see Jason again,” Lana stated. “You have three options: abstain from romance for the rest of your life, wait until you figure yourself out, or try right now and fail again.”

  Rachel smirked. “You have so little faith in me.”

  “I have more faith than you deserve.” Lana reached into a stone-walled cupboard that emitted a gentle cold and pulled out four peppers of varying colours and sizes. “Rachel, if I see that you’re trying, improving, working on yourself, I will be here. For better or for worse, we’re stuck together. But I need to see it.”

  “I should just tell you to give up,” Rachel grumbled. “It’s not like I’ve been improving.”

  Lana sighed, and Rachel was surprised to see a tear streaking down Lana’s cheek. She wiped it away with a closed fist. “Am I- are we not worth the effort? Will nothing extend you a firm enough hand to drag you from the utter wallowing into which you’ve cast yourself?”

  I’m back, Tassel’s voice grated through Rachel’s consciousness. I’d appreciate it if you could wrap up your spat before serving me breakfast.

  Rachel could not muster the will to respond to either inquiry. She crumpled against the wall, sitting down hard on the stone-brick floor and staring blankly out of the diminutive window behind the stovetop.

  “Eat,” Lana relented. “Silently. Make your decision, then be true to it.”

  Rachel nodded, then reached out to Tassel. Come in. Food’s not quite ready.

  I left twenty minutes ago, came Tassel’s immediate response. What are you cooking in there, an entire cow?

  Rachel did not so much as smirk. She felt lifeless, heaped like a sack of discarded marrow bones in the corner of the kitchen, unwanted, unfeeling. Lana puttered around her, not bothering to look down, to behold the mess that had created itself from the truth of her words.

  Rachel had come all the way to Lyrian, knowing that she might never see Jason again, but knowing as well that Earth could never be her home. Lyrian was her home. She was safe here, powerful, even.

  How could she have made it all go so wrong?

  ? ? ?

  Not a minute passed since Tassel had left for important business, as he had put it, when a crisp knock reverberated up the stairs. Rachel, having almost finished washing up, reached out with her mind, imagining that Tassel had forgotten something, before she realized that Tassel would not knock at his own house. Realistically, Rachel doubted that Tassel had ever knocked before entering in his life. She turned away from the washtub, rubbed her hands dry on her canvas pants, then strode to the stairwell door.

  “Have you-” Lana chirped as Rachel passed through the living room, but Rachel gave her an intentionally apologetic wave of the hand. She had made her decision, but the conversation would have to wait.

  Rachel reached the front door just as the visitor knocked a second time. Mentally readying herself to fight back, she cracked the door open, then pushed it aside at the sight of a familiar face.

  “Nia,” Rachel greeted. “It hasn’t been twenty-four hours yet.”

  “Close enough,” the stablewoman shrugged. “May I come in?”

  Rachel nodded and swept her hand in a welcoming motion, then closed the door after Nia slipped through. Nia led Rachel up the stairs, then pushed open the door to the living room without asking Rachel’s permission. She paused for a moment then, glancing back at Rachel, then took a seat across from Lana as Rachel entered the room, shutting the little wooden door behind her.

  “Who’s this?” Lana asked innocently, though Rachel felt an accusatory undertone.

  “Nia,” Nia said. “Formerly Elaine.”

  “Sorry,” Rachel interrupted. “This might be a long introduction. Lana, do you remember the boy - my friend - of whom we spoke last night?”

  Lana rolled her eyes. “How could I forget?”

  Rachel, suddenly, wanted to cry. Lana - sweet, studious Lana - was already starting to exhibit the behaviours that she had absorbed from Rachel. She thought, then, that she may never be as kind as Lana was now; instead, she would try to improve as Lana steadily fell, until they would meet in a sharp, thorny middle ground.

  Rachel so badly wanted to be kind. More than anything.”

  “Rachel?” Nia asked, leaning in towards her. “You look troubled.”

  “I’m fine,” Rachel blurted, recovering. Lana shot her a look that could turn coal to diamond. “What’s going on, Nia? Why are you here?”

  Nia sighed and crossed her legs, resting her elbows on her knees. “We need to talk.”