The cold is making her flies to drop dead, but she has to try.

She might as well be gambling on a miracle.

But if she can transport a sickle with her swarm, why not a human?

Erika screams as Bela's form crumples apart, but Bela still keeps her arms around her middle. Agony cleaves itself into every collective tissue of every fly, but still Bela forces herself to scatter. To dissipate.

Erika begins thrashing against the swarm. It breaks Bela's concentration enough that she solidifies for a few seconds.

Erika then stops, in shock.

The river is approaching too quickly.

Bela won't have time to fly them both over to the shore.

If she can just cushion the blow of the water, even the slightest –

The slap of the water nearly knocks her head off her shoulders. The world shifts, and then it is dark, and silent, and they are being tumbled, over and over as the river tosses them in its wrath.

The cold hits Bela like a shock of frigid lightning. She forces herself to stop her scream and risk losing precious air.

Bela abandons Erika as she claws at the water, kicking and thrashing, trying to get to the surface, to the air. Her lungs beginning to seize, the pressure building—

Erika. Oh gods, what has she done? Did she make it?

Then strong, assured hands grab around Bela's waist, hauling her up, up, up.

They hit the surface of the river, and it is bright and loud and wild, and it is all Bela can do to grab the log Erika shoves her onto, to dig her nails into the soaked wood and cling to it while they are carried downriver.

Bela coughs and coughs, her chest aching with prickling pain in her lungs.

Breathe. She has to remember how to breathe.

An arm wraps across her shoulders, and Bela looks to find Erika clinging to her; one arm around her while the other holds them both on the log. Her head scans this way and that, looking for a safe place to pull ashore. Her braid has now become a tangled mat, her skin red from their impact on the water.

But she's alive. Alive and fighting. Teeth grit in frigid determination.

The water slaps them from every direction, filling their ears and forcing their eyes shut. Their feet cannot grapple along the bottom, the current pulling with invisible fingers.

A roar echoes throughout the ravine, and both of them look to find the vârcolaci plummeting towards the river, its eyes wide and arms flapping aimlessly, as if it would turn them into wings.

Bela's eyes flick to Erika, who is staring solely on the creature.

The eldest daughter grows still as she watches a wicked grin spread across Erika's pale lips.

The creature gives one final roar before it hits the jagged rocks with a wetted thud and crack. While their feet can barely touch the ground, it's shallow for a creature of that size.

The breaking of its bones mimics that of a crunching nutshell. A spurt of red droplets easily swallowed in the blooming of foam created upon its impact. The water buoys its head, making it twitch like a puppet on strings, but it doesn't move otherwise.

Bela involuntarily yelps as they're suddenly yanked to the left. The water has become more rapid down here, more powerful. More vengeful.

"Hang on Bela!" Erika shouts.

But her words are muffled as the water continues to try and smother Bela. Nothing but white foam and blue and green and glimpses of the sky. Every time she tries to open her mouth, she it met with the taste of mud-laced water.

"Keep your head above water, Bela!"

A desperate plea escapes Bela's lips as she is suddenly slammed into a rock, her body plastered for a second before the water begins to churn them both.

Endless white foam. Endless roaring.

But Erika never lets her go. Never stops fighting.

Bela wants to, but the frigid cold has leeched all energy from her. Despite her solidified form, her flies are dying, and the pain of prickling needles is slowly starting to work its way up her legs, into her chest.

The eldest daughter tightens her grip on the log. Though it feels useless.

The current keeps pulling. The water still smothering.

Suddenly, as she's allowed a moment to open her eyes, they slam into a rock that cleaves the wood in half.

Bela screams as she and Erika separate, the current pulling on her ankles like the frigid hands of desperate souls.

"Bela! BELA!"

"Erika! Erika, please! Please help me!" Bela pleads, her voice broken and frantic despite exhaustion. The water pulls her under, choking the words, the air from her lungs.

In the darkness, Bela feels with her feet and manages to push.

She breaks the surface, the air that greets her is warm compared to the water. Blinking past the water, Bela can see Erika swimming towards her despite being thrown and twisted and dragged down by the river.

She won't leave her. She won't leave.

Tears of joy and fear begin to cloud Bela's eyes as the water pulls her right and then left, rock after rock cutting her feet, slapping against her body, her head.

"Help me, Erika!" Bela pleads. The cold is crushing.

Bela can see the desperation swimming in Erika's teal eyes.

"Bela, swim harder!"

Bela's feet find purchase for a split second, and she seizes it and pushes, hands plastering to a slick rock. Bela digs her nails in, breaking them as she desperately tries to cling, to stall until Erika can reach her.

Her fingers slip as Erika approaches inch by inch, loosened strands of hair plastering to her forehead. But her eyes are bright, focused.

Another wave crashes into Bela and she ducks down, gritting her teeth as the water pelts her back, down her neck; making her already soaked and frigid clothes even colder.

A firm hand grips Bela's wrist, and she instantly releases as Erika pulls her towards a riverbank. Mud and reeds and trees loom overhead, dew drops patching its steep hill.

Erika pulls Bela to her, a hand around her waist as she pushes herself towards it. Bela clings to her as Erika's feet finally find solid purchase.

The moment the water recesses from Erika's waist, she collapses.

Bela tumbles with her, unable to fight, unable to react. As if the water had been the one thing keeping them upright, and without it, liquid lead seems to have replaced their blood.

Both of them heave as they welcome the unusually warm mud beneath them. Bela flops onto her back, facing towards the sky, chest rising and falling. Soon, it turns to exasperated sobs.

"I can't believe it. We made it." Her words are breathless. "Thank you. Thank you, Erika."

Silence.

"Erika?"

Bela scrambles up, looking towards Erika.

Her lips are turning blue.

I crawl up the riverbank, inch by painful inch, and I feel the phantom, icy mud beneath my nails, feel my broken, frozen body as it slumps onto the earth and shudders, over and over.

As lethal cold grips me while Bela hauls herself onto the bank beside me.

As Bela lunges for me, screaming my name, cold and shock setting in . . .

I thought the danger would be drowning. I neglected to realize being out in the cold for so long . . .

"Erika! ERIKA!"

Warmth. We needed warmth, desperately. I can't stop moving.

I force myself to take a deep, slow inhale as I push myself up on quivering arms. "Fire." Gods, my voice sounds like sandpaper. I take two more breaths. "We need a fire."

Never mind that I watched her disintegrate and reform in a swam of flies. I can think about that later.

Fire. Warmth.

Bela is already moving, tripping over her own weakened limbs as she fumbles for some reeds and dry grass and kindling. I myself rip the heads off a few cat tails, sweeping more leaves into a pile. Just enough to afford a moment collect ourselves, otherwise we're not making it back to the castle. At this rate, we won't even make it back before nightfall.

I nearly stumble into a tree, biting my lip as my shoulder takes the brunt of the force. I try not to think about the lack of feeling in my lips. "We need shelter." I croak.

The wind has since picked up down here, the air moistened from the mist of the river. We'll need to move further inland if we want any hope of keeping this fire alive.

Bela nods without argument and begins to scour the nearby forest. With my trembling and aching hands, I collect what I can shove into my moistened pockets. I'll take the risk over dropping them because my arms won't stop trembling. I try to keep positive that we're still in autumn and not winter, otherwise, we'd already be dead. But the bite of the cold is still enough that it's becoming hard to move. My limbs feeling wooden, like a puppet.

I try my best to keep an eye out for any more of those kinds of . . . predators, despite my chest feeling heavy. I've never seen anything like that creature before. I had managed to control myself when facing it, because it meant facing certain death. And that Bela would be safe.

Uncertain death is what scared me. And yes, that creature's roar did make me soak my pants a little – of which has been covered up by the river.

I trip over a root, but manage to grab onto a branch to slow my decent to the forest floor. There's no way I could've kept myself upright. But now I have to try and get up, and I'm getting so tired.

"Erika! Erika!" I hear Bela call. All I can do is lift my arm. The sound of Bela's hurried footsteps reach my ear before her, and she kneels over me, hauling me to my feet. "I found an abandoned wolves' den, as we can rest there."

The corner of my mouth twitches, "Are you sure it's abandoned?"

"Really? You want to make jokes now?!"

"I'm close to dying. I can do whatever the fuck I want." I counter with a husk.

Bela's silent for a heartbeat. "Don't say that. You're not doing to die. Now come on."

She loops my arm around her neck and guides me towards the den, her arm around my waist the same way I held her in the rapids of the river.

I can feel my footsteps growing heavier and heavier. Warmth. I just need warmth.

I can see the opening to the den, and evidence that Bela dug like a madwoman to further open the front entrance. I dig my heels into the dirt, and Bela stops, turning and looking at me with a questioning glare.

"What? We need to get inside."

I'm already dropping to my knees, carving a circle in the dirt. "No. We need the build the fire."

"So let's build the fire inside."

I shake my head. "We can't risk it. The heat could cause the rock to expand, with sections cracking and breaking, and possibly falling down on us."

Bela folds her lips in, as if stopping herself from arguing further. I dump out all of my now-moistened kindling, asking Bela if she can sweep more leaves and twigs over towards us.

She does; even finding flint. I haven't made a fire in years, so it takes a few tries, but it works. My hands and forearms are warmed up enough from the motions. Without much word or encouragement, Bela plops down next to me, pressing close to share body heat.

Or just to steal mine. I doubt she can even create her own heat.

Gods, I'd just seen her scatter into a swarm of flies. Their buzzing and hissing all in my ears, surrounding me during that plummet . . .

"How long do we need to stay here?" she whispers quietly.

I look towards the sky. "Just enough for us to both get our warmth back. No matter what, I'd like to make it back to the castle before nightfall. Who knows what else is crawling these woods."

I cut her a side glance.

She pouts. "I don't. The creatures I do know of should be on the property of the other lords."

I shake my head, whispering more to myself. "What the hell is wrong with this place?"

Bela remains silent, but she tilts her head to rest it in the crook of my neck. I blow warm air into my hands, keeping them around my lips, hoping to gain back feeling.

Thankfully, the wind has died down, and as we toss more kindling onto our fire, the more it grows and rises. Minutes pass by, and all we do is huddle around the flame and its life saving warmth.

Once I'm able to feel my toes again, a realization has my arms flinching over my shoulder.

Miraculously, the sword is still there.

Bela adjusts herself, and I ignore her questioning glance as I peer over at the empty sheath still strapped to her back as well. She must've lost the arrows along the river, and likely dropped the bow before she jumped off the cliff.

At least we have something to defend ourselves.

We sit in silence around the fire for a few more minutes, both collecting our bearings and thoughts and just trying to stay warm. I don't push Bela's head off my shoulders, but I don't lean any closer. I remove the sword from my back, unsheathing and placing it near the fire. My ankle is starting to hurt once more, the adrenaline leeching away, leaving it throbbing and sore. It feels like my heartbeat is ballooning it more and more.

I nudge Bela off my shoulder as I being to remove my boots and soaked socks. I ring them out as tightly as I can before grabbing a thin branch and holding them over the fire. Primitive it might be, but it works.

Bela sits quietly as I turn my socks over and over the tips of the flames. With sharpened quiet, I ask, "Are you going to tell me what's going on with you?"

Her eyes flick to me, their golden color dulled. She shrugs her shoulders, her gaze turning downcast, "I don't know how to explain it."

I fold in my lips as I turn over my socks. "You could try." It comes out sharper than I intend, making Bela snap her gaze to me. I look to her, my features becoming cold. "Bela, I just watched you turn into a swarm of flies. Then reappear and disappear and reappear –"

The smell of burning cotton cuts me off, and I swear as I've just singed off the big toe of my left sock. Whatever, that'll be good enough.

I shrug off my jacket and begin to remove my shirt. I wring it out like the socks, and grab another branch, slipping one in through each sleeve.

And I wait.

I can hear and see Bela shifting her feet in my periphery, but I don't say anything.

"You said I could tell you when I was ready." She mutters quietly. Almost childlike.

I keep my voice flat, appearing bored. "I did. And while I'm grateful for you saving my life back there, this is something that has far exceeded any expectations. And I have a feeling that what you tell me might help in connecting these unusual dots."

"It might also put your life in danger, Erika."

The next time I look to her, Bela's gaze has shifted into something dark and unforgiving. "There are some things you're just not ready for."

"And how can you be the judge of that."

"Because you plan to return home to your sister eventually. Don't you?"

I grow still.

"What I could tell you, you'll never go home the same."

While I make sure to keep my shirt above the fire this time, I think back to what she had said earlier . . . about the darkness and how she met Lady Dimitrescu.

Fine. She can tell me about her mysterious witchcraft powers later.

But . . . "Can Daniela and Cassandra do it too?"

A heartbeat of silence, safe for the crackling of the fire. "Yes."

I sigh, turning over my shirt. I shiver at the autumn chill, rubbing my arms and shoulders.

And certainly avoiding Bela's gaze as I sit next to her in my bandeau. Exposing the long scar that stretches across my shoulders.

When the shirt is decently dry – because to be fully dry will take too much time – I slip it back on.

The eldest daughter hasn't moved much, just staring vacantly into the fire, arms folded over her knees, cradling her chin. Her golden blonde hair has dried into loose waves, and I consciously smooth my loosened strands back out of my face. I don't bother with my braid. It'll be a nightmare to have to undo anyway.

I look to her, and lean into her vision. "Bela . . . what happened to you?" I ask, my voice barely heard over the crackling fire.

She blinks, and I swear I can see silver in her eyes.

"I died." She whispers. Her voice is laced with a pain I've become too familiar with. And for a moment I regret my question. "After that darkness, I woke up in an unfamiliar room. I was scared. We, were scared. But then Mother – Lady Dimitrescu – gave us a name, and took us in. Gave us a home, and loved and raised us as if we were her blood."

She dips her head in her arms for a moment, taking a quivering inhale that almost has me reaching for her. She lifts her gaze to the fire again.

When next she speaks, my heart fractures at her quivering voice. "I can't remember who I was before this. No matter how hard I try. I want to know, but I'm afraid to. Maybe I wasn't even that important to begin with but . . . I don't know. Maybe my name wasn't even Bela, but now, that's all I can remember."

Her voice pitches on the last word.

"She never told you?" I ask.

Those ungodly golden eyes look to me. "What does it matter? I can never go back. My old family might be dead, if I ever had any to begin with. This is who I am now."

Despite the situation, I don't hesitate to remove my pants. Color steals over Bela's cheeks as I hold them over the fire. I take a quick look at the sky, seeing the pinks and oranges and purples of twilight starting to shift into the darker shades of night.

She shakes her head, as if respooling her thoughts, and averts her gaze. "I can't tell you everything, Erika. Not yet."

"Why?"

"Because I don't trust you."

"Bela, what I've seen in that castle . . . that is not normal." I hiss.

"Exactly."

I'm about to retort, but stop. Because if I plan on going back to Lacy, if I plan on going back to a normal life, I'm going to have to forget everything I've ever witnessed. Alcina's long claws, Heisenberg, that haggard creature-woman, Dandora . . .

Something is happening in that castle, and Bela seems to be a part of it – either involuntarily or not.

I blink a few times, flipping my pants. "You really think they'd let me leave?"

Bela's shoulders see to slouch with the change of subject, but doubt still lies in her eyes. "Not anytime soon, but . . . eventually."

I snort. "What is 'eventually.'"

Another small shrug. "Until you can be trusted."

"Or if I'm dead."

Bela shakes her head, a broken smile ghosting along her lips. Her tongue flicks across her bottom lip. "Do you . . . are you, okay with this?"

I wring out my pants a couple of times before holding them back over the fire, my now socked toe close to the edge of the fire. My eyes flick to her for a second. "What? About you having some special power? Honestly, it's not so surprising after seeing Heisenberg." I crack my pants and hold them closer to the tips of the flames. "Is it . . . like magic?"

"I . . . guess? I don't know where it comes from."

My pants seem dry enough, and the sky is getting darker. So I toss the branches aside and step into them. Still a little cold along the legs, but that's doable. As I lace up my boots, I kneel down beside Bela and poke her in the shoulder with my finger.

"What?" she asks.

I poke her again.

"What?" she giggles.

"I just half-expected you to just disappear into the flies again."

She bats my hand away. "I have enough sense in mind to know how to control them . . . in a sense."

"How so?"

"It's, complicated. I don't control them like they're individual beings. They're all, me. To dissipate comes as easily as breathing."

"Another result of, what happened to you?"

"Maybe."

I reach out my hand to take hers. She allows it; and I press two fingers against her forearm.

Solid, and whole. Just as flesh should be.

"That's . . . incredible."

Bela snorts, but color still stains her cheeks. "That's not a word I've heard often."

"From whom?"

"Mother Miranda, Mother. Heisenberg." Her eyes darken for a moment. "The maidens of the castle. Though not like I've given them much of a different impression."

I trace my fingers along her palm. Her skin feels warm, but the tips of her fingers are as cold as ice.

Experiments. The word comes to mind like a shock of lightning, but I keep my features schooled into neutrality.

Whatever had been done to her, it couldn't have been good. Let alone painless.

I notice she's staring, so I let go of her hand and push to my feet. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess."

"Good enough to walk back?"

Bela runs her tongue along the front of her teeth. She ponders for a short second before pushing to rise to her own feet, but there's a bit of a wobble; off balance enough that she has to throw her arms out to save herself.

My hand flinches out to catch her just in case. "Are you okay?"

"A little lightheaded, but I think I'll be fine," she sighs.

"Do you need some freshwater, or something?"

"No, no. I, um, I think I'm fine on water."

The corners of my mouth twitch up in an impish grin. "Do you need some blood to get you going?"

Bela pauses, blinking in surprise. Then her smile turns feline. "I mean, if you're offering."

Now it's my turn to freeze. I blink once. Twice. "I was joking."

Bela looks at me from beneath her long lashes. "I wasn't."

My mouth is still agape, my mind processing so slowly. "You actually drink, blood?"

"I drank from you didn't I?" She arcs a brow at the memory of her head between my legs. My face instantly wars. "Danielle bit you, too. You never smelled it on us?"

"I thought it was just from your torturing in the dungeon." I cringe at how casual I sounded. Even if it is an everyday occurrence doesn't make it any less horrifying and tragic.

Bela seems to share the thought as she averts her gaze, moving to scour the perimeter of the campfire. "I mean, it is . . . sometimes."

I shake my head, my vision going vacant as I stare at a gnarled trunk of an oak tree. "You actually drink blood. Like an actual vampire?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"For sustainability."

"Because you think you need to, or you actually need to?"

Bela purses her lips at me. "Because I actually need to."

"What? How?"

"I don't know. Blame my mother. From what I had learned, she had some kind of blood disorder that, mutated into something where she now needs it for sustainability."

I stare at her, my body going rigid. "So, you actually need it to survive."

"Just as much as humans need wine, if not a little more."

I blink again and allow my mind to catch up to the realization that I had ignored. I shake my head with a sigh and feel my hands along my belt. Miraculously, the dagger I had strapped there at the very beginning of our trek is still there, locked in tight thanks to an additional clip I paid Duke to sew on.

I unsheathe the blade and rest it along my palm.

"Erika!" Bela yelps, reaching out to grab my wrist.

"What? We need to get back to the castle before nightfall, and I won't have you being a liability because you're lacking sustenance."

Without hesitation, I slice a line across my left palm. Blood wells, wine-red against the dying buttery light of twilight, sliding down the side of my hand before I hold it out to Bela.

"Drink." I order. "Until you feel better, but not enough to make me faint." Bela just stares at my hand. I roll my eyes as I sheath the blade back at my hip. "Just drink. It's fine."

"It's just . . ." She fidgets – fidgets – with her fingers, swaying back and forth on the heels of her feet. "It's personal."

I tilt my head, unconvinced. "Really? Says the woman who had her head between my –"

"Alright, alright! Shut up!" she snarls as she takes my wrist, the blood already tracing the outside of my wrist bone.

I smirk as I watch her lick her lips – the animal part of her coming to the surface. Her pupils seem to expand, her nostrils flaring.

I keep a hand on my dagger just in case she becomes a little too, excited. She first licks the blood that streamed onto her palm, the color ruby-bright against her pale skin.

My smirk is short lived as she flutters her eyes and drags her tongue up along the outside of my wrist, catching a droplet that was about to move past the curve of my bone.

She laps along my wrist, licking all around my wrist as if she were tasting an ice cream cone.

A pulse shoots through my core, warm slowly blooming like a budding rose. I try not to let her smell the shift in my scent.

I don't even think she'd really notice, considering how large her pupils have expanded.

When she looks me in the eyes as her tongue laps along my palm, my stomach drops like a stone.

Nothing but pure animal instinct, and a glimmer of lust. No doubt it's a more . . . purified flavor from when she first, tasted, me.

She doesn't break eye contact with me a she begins to drink from my palm like a dog from a bowl. I wince at the dull pain radiating outward from my palm.

Bela's lips begin to turn brighter, some of my blood dribbling down her chin. She turns my hand more towards her, the tip of her tongue poking between my fingers.

She finally breaks eye contact as she buries her face deeper into my palm, sharpening the pain. Her tongue moves faster, and my thoughts on what it would feel like between my legs again is interrupted by the feeling of her teeth brushing against my wound.

That's enough for to attempt to yank my hand back, but her grip tightens.

"Bela." I warn, trying again to move my hand away. She moans with pleasure as I feel the tip of her tongue brush against the heel of my palm. I ignore the sensation. "Bela!" I bark.

It startles her enough that she lifts her face from my hand. I quickly yank it away. "That's enough."

From her cupid's bow, down to her chin is smeared in red. In my blood. She slowly returns back to herself, her pupils shrinking back to reveal the pools of gold. That animal – or whatever it was – satisfied with its fill.

She blinks once. Twice. Thrice. Her breathing shifting for a moment, as if she'd been holding it too long. "Sorry," she sighs. "I guess it's been too long. A-And I didn't realize you'd taste so . . . good."

I don't know why I feel flattered. But I just shrug my shoulders and distract myself by going back over to the river, leaving her standing there, and soaking my hand in the water. The cold bites at my hand like an asp.

Without looking back towards her, I say, "I hope that's enough for you to make it back to the castle."

"More than enough." She answers as I dry off my hand. I cut a piece of my shirt and wrap it around it to stop the bleeding. At least until we get to the castle where I can have the healer look at it.

"Okay, good. Then we should get going." I say.

But we both stand around the warm fire for a few more minutes, and I randomly remember to check the snares tomorrow. If we come back out tomorrow. Together. I also test my ankle after such a run, and indeed it has become sensitive. I might have to consider hopping on one foot while we make our way back.

I kick some dirt onto the flames, even using the empty quiver to dump some cold water on it. When it's reduced to a white plume of smoke, I take a quick look at the sky and motion Bela where to move.

We make it a few yards before I say, breaking the calm yet filled quiet between us and the forest, "Thanks for saving my life. Again, I guess. I wouldn't have made it without you."

A faint nod.

I turn away, looking towards the budding stars and familiar landmarks of this forest, when Bela speaks, soft and strained. "Thank you for not leaving me. Back in the river. Thank you for not leaving me."

I pause, turning to face her. She keeps her chin high, but her eyes are gleaming.

I know there is more that she's not saying, some bigger meaning behind her words.

I say quietly, "I'd never leave you."

And I hope she believes me.

She nods, and says, "Good. But there's something you need to know."