A breeze stirred on Glaivend Basin, whispering a warning of the coming war. It ruffled Dezel's hair as he sat in the mouth of the spacious alcove they were camping in for the night, embedded high in a steep cliff, practically unreachable save for his Windrush ability. Nights on Glaivend Basin were always chill since there wasn't much moisture to temper the air, but Lailah's fire made the alcove toasty. Still, Dezel preferred to have the wind on his face, even if it felt foreboding.

In his mind's eye Dezel surveyed the land, lazily letting the breeze guide him, not that there was much to see. The night was perfectly still, too still if anything. A while ago Mikleo had left, announcing his intention to scout for hellions and the like, even though he knew perfectly well that Dezel would sense any living thing that came near them, especially if it was tainted with malevolence. He figured Mikleo just wanted to be alone—he'd seemed even more pensive than usual this evening.

No one worried about him being alone, not even Lailah. He'd grown a lot on this journey.

Lailah and Edna spoke quietly as Sorey and Rose slept by the fire, both dead to the world. Rose lay her side, her legs slightly curled, her breathing slow and even. He felt like a creep for watching her sleep, but he just wanted her healthy and safe.

He curled his right hand, the one Rose had touched when he'd Windrushed her and everyone else up here. Even now, he could feel the phantom sensation of her soft fingertips on his palm. Stupid. He'd blushed, but no one had noticed, thank Maotelus. If anyone even suspected ...

"What do you think, Dezel?"

"Huh?"

Lailah repeated herself. "What do you think?"

"About what?"

"Do you think it's better to wear a skirt with tights, or without?"

He frowned. "Neither. Pants are just fine for me."

"Not on you, I mean in general," she said, giggling. "Personally, I think the absence of tights makes for an elegant look."

"You sure about that?" Edna gave her a sidelong glance, eyebrows raised. "I wouldn't want everyone seeing my splotchy legs if I were you."

"My legs aren't splotchy!" she squawked.

Dezel resisted the urge to bash his head against the stone wall. "This is the dumbest conversation I've ever heard."

"Let's ask Rose what she thinks," Edna said. "She can decide this once and for all—"

"No," Dezel said, quietly but emphatically. "Don't wake her. She needs rest." Her sleep schedule had just gotten back to normal, and she didn't need anyone going and wrecking that.

Lailah and Edna glanced at each other; Lailah beamed, and Edna dramatically rolled her eyes. Then they looked back at him, their faces suddenly wiped of expression.

He tensed, holding himself rigidly—like a rabbit who suddenly found itself amid a pack of wolves. One wrong move, and ... "What's so funny?"

Enda snorted. "You, you idiot."

"Your love for Rose is very moving," Lailah said, smiling softly, her hands gently clasped upon her lap.

He turned his face away from them. "I'm just concerned about her physical well-being. She's a human, after all. You know how fragile they are."

"C'mon, Dezel," Edna said. " 'Fess up to Cousin Edna and Auntie Lailah." ("Why can't I be a cousin too?!") "Just say the words, they'll make you feel better: 'My name is Dezel, and I'm in love with Rose.' "

"Keep your voice down," he growled, his face blazing with the heat of a thousand suns. It took everything he had not to dissipate on the spot—it would only make him look worse. "I'm not confessing anything, especially not to you. Not that there's anything to confess."

"Of course there is," Lailah said patiently. "You've been very obvious about it. Ever since we left Lohgrin, perhaps even before that, your behaviour toward her has been very peculiar indeed. You've been more abrupt than ever, yet at the same time, strangely accommodating."

He said nothing.

"Exhibit A," Edna said. "Two weeks ago, the day we left Lohgrin, I made the humble request that you make drago stew for supper."

"Oh yeah, you were humble all right—"

Edna continued as if he'd never spoken. "You refused me. But when Rose made the same request, you acquiesced, and your face went totally beet red. Much like it is now, actually."

"That doesn't mean—"

"Exhibit B: Two weeks ago, after Rose lamented she couldn't find any of her favourite type of mint in the Meadow of Triumph, you just so happened to find some on a walk."

"Or the time a few days ago," Lailah put in excitedly, "after Rose complained of dust getting in her eyes because of the strong winds, within the hour they mysteriously died down. For the rest of the day you'd seemed exhausted, even though we hadn't run into any hellions all day."

Edna said, even louder, "Or even when—"

"Be quiet, or you'll wake her up!" His entire face tingled, now, and he dully wondered if someone could get hurt from blushing too much.

"Stop yelling, or you're going to be the one to wake her up," Edna said levelly. "Although I doubt even that would get her up. She sleeps like a log."

That was probably true, both for her and Sorey. But still, if either of them heard anything, even just a few words, then—

"Here's how it's gonna be," Edna said, steepling her fingers, head slightly bowed. "I could tell Rose that you're in love with her—"

"Don't you dare," he growled.

"—but if you make me weekly payments of 500 gald, with a 10.5 percent interest rate from—"

"Edna," Lailah chided, "this is a serious matter."

"I am entirely serious, I assure you. I fully intend on getting windboy to buy my silence."

This was ridiculous. Dezel would have laughed if he weren't so miserable. "Is ... is it really that obvious?" he found himself asking.

"It's positively palpable," Edna said solemnly. "Even Sorey knows."

"He—what?!"

She smiled. "Well, maybe not, but he will once I tell him."

Dezel stood so quickly his head spun. "Don't tell him. Don't tell anyone!"

Rose's breathing hitched, and for a moment, everyone stopped to stare at her. She rolled over to her other side and her breathing stabilized—still asleep.

Sorey was still completely out.

"Dezel," Lailah said gently, "you will be glad to hear that while such relations between seraphim and humans are rare, they are not unheard of. If Rose wills it, you can—"

Dezel laughed scornfully. Not scorn for Lailah; scorn for himself. "There's no chance of anything between us. She hates my guts. I hurt her more than anyone's ever hurt her before, if you recall."

"But love conquers all!"

His mouth twisted. "That sounds like something Sorey would say."

"That doesn't make it any less true!"

Edna watched their exchange impassively, but when her eyes turned to him, he detected something almost like pity. Her honest, direct gaze told him: You're fucked beyond all hope, and it's your own damn fault. He couldn't disagree.

He sighed, tugging his hat lower. "Just leave me alone. I don't need your help or your concern."

Lailah leaned forward intently. "Just listen to me! You did hurt her, yes, but Rose clearly cares about you—"

He dissipated.

"Dezelll!" she whined, loud enough to wake the dead. "I was only trying to help!"

Just before he left earshot, he heard Rose groggily say, "Lailah, could you keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep."

For a few minutes Dezel let the wind carry him, and just after their alcove left the bounds of his senses, he returned to his physical form. He just needed some fresh air, that was all. He'd return before dawn.

To his left lay a gently sloping hill, and he distracted himself by examining the burrow of a Merchioran hare; a mother and her kits huddled together, eight little heartbeats and a bigger one. The mother flinched as the wind passed over her, however, and he quickly retreated, not wanting to frighten her any more than he already had.

Lailah didn't understand. Rose, caring about him? She could hardly stand the sight of him, and she only spoke to him if she absolutely had to. Sure, she didn't outright revile him, but that hardly constituted caring.

If Rose found out how he felt about her ... gods. He'd rather die than face that. But he didn't think Edna would tell—she'd just been teasing him, getting her usual sadistic jollies. At least, he hoped.