We don’t really talk about anything after our reintroductions. I’m a little bit lulled into a quiet ease by the food and the still-present postcoital soup of delightful neurotransmitters, all stochastically wandering around in the vicinity of the axon terminals that will uptake them; I don’t know why everyone else is quiet, but I don’t mind it.

Quiet in this case doesn’t mean slow. We’re running behind, by the time we finish cleaning up, gearing up, and getting out of the way while Sara retrieves her slim backpack from the curtained-off nook or alcove where Keyhome has put her bed. My clothes have noticeably more padding here and there, almost as though my jacket is growing into a piece of jacket-shaped armor, but if anyone else’s gear is shifting they don’t mention it. I notice that Amber’s bracers are the rich, yellowish color of her namesake gem, and raise an eyebrow at her, but either she doesn’t notice or she doesn’t comment, and I let it pass, looking around.

Amber’s not the only one with new pieces of gear. Sara was previously wielding only one wand, and now she’s got a second one, a medium reddish-brown that I think looks like the willow-leaf axe-breaker wood that was grown on the ‘ship of my childhood. It’s shot through and around with brilliant streaks of blue, glinting with an inner light, and it matches her eyes just as Amber’s bracers do hers, and I’m pretty sure Zidanya wasn’t previously packing a couple of long knives, long enough to be almost like shortswords.

“I totally forgot about the reward bags, didn’t I.”

“My lord.”

I let my face slump dramatically into my palm, prompting a round of giggles. “What did you all get? I see the blades, the bracers, the wand.” My eyes linger on Zidanya’s bow. That’s a different color. “And the bow. I honestly have no idea how good these rewards even are. We don’t have time for this, do we?”

“Breathe, Adam.” Amber smiles at me, and I feel something unknot; my usual curiosity, probably, compulsively wanting to know everything about the latest thing to grab my attention. “These are… strong, though not beyond reason. My new boots will help me keep my footing even on irregular terrain, and my gauntlets…” Amber pauses for, as far as I can tell, dramatic effect. “My weapon and shield will be somewhat more brittle, but I will be able to shift them in shape to some degree, or to dismiss and create them anew in a new form within the space of a thought, and will form their own gauntlets that arise or return to nothingness at my will.”

“Knives, bow, and undergarments.” I stare at Zidanya, then look around. Sara is staring at Zidanya, so I’m not the only one, and maybe that’s why her voice gets a bit waspish. “Think on it, jobbernowls! They stay with me through the changing of my shape. Five pounds, to run around with after? These are a blessing.” She pauses a moment, then shrugs. “The other two are reward enough, if my sole concern were excellence in combat.”

“Practical.” Sara nods at Zidanya. “Mine are this wand and a scarf. I prefer not to disclose their function.”

“That’s fine.”

“Is it?”

I glance over to Amber, then to Sara, then back. “I… why wouldn’t it be?”

“We know so little of what you can do. Most of us are obvious, and Adam has already shown his hand and promised to show you every aspect of it. But you?”

“If it is commanded of me, I will share such details as the command requires.” Sara’s response is immediate. “Is it?”

Sara is staring at Amber, but Amber and Zidanya both look at me, and I’m shaking my head without needing to think about it. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Then I will keep private the shape of my soul.”

“And I’ll trust you.” I nod at the other two women. “And so will they, probably, eventually. Anything you want to share, we’ll keep within the circle of our… our team, our adventuring party, and anything you don’t share, I’ll trust you’ll wield in our communal best interests.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Zidanya nods. “The Magelord speaks.”

“My lord makes his decision.”

I sit back, biting back the words that come to mind. They’re not wrong that I just pulled rank and decided on behalf of the party, so it would be rude and more besides to complain that they respond in the language of deference. And it’s not like they’re mocking; there’s nothing but seriousness on their faces, and Amber’s voice is devoid of her usual dry bite.

They’re genuine, and it bothers me. It’ll keep bothering me until I find a way to sever the bonds that tie them to me, the ones that are the difference between recruitment and binding, but that’s not a project I can deal with today.

They’re all looking at me, and I realize that I’m up to talk about item rewards. “Um. Where did I put that bag?” I pat down my pockets fruitlessly, then glance over at Amber, who’s smiling guilelessly. “Amber?”

“My lord?”

“Do you have the reward bag that I got from the pylon?”

“My lord is perceptive and wise.”

I wince, and take a long drink of water. It’s not that I’m thirsty, or at least not just that I’m thirsty; her voice really is that dry, and taking a drink gives me a second to do something other than just be embarrassed. “Thank you,” I manage to say, face heating up. “I would definitely have just… forgotten it entirely, until it was too late.”

“Yes, well.” She just smiles at me, and my face gets warmer, but it’s a better kind of warmth.

She tosses the bag at me, and I pull the drawstring loose. There’s one thing inside, and it’s the only bag I got as a reward, so I don’t know what to expect; something that would only fit into a bigger bag, probably. Instead, it’s an ear clip.

I put it on. It’s not like there’s anything else to do with it; its form is pretty clear, and for all that the Temple was semi-actively trying to kill me it had never given me anything poisoned, trapped, or cursed as a reward. It slips right around my ear as though it was made for me, which obviously it was, and hugs tight to my skull, and I wait a moment to see what will happen.

I wait another moment, and another, and then I look around. “Nothing,” I say in disbelief. “Doesn’t seem to do anything at all.”

“Attend to it as we travel, perhaps.” Zidanya stands, moving towards the door. “Our grace period has since ended, and we yet dawdle.”

“Yeah.” I’m on my feet, moving towards her. “Hey, Zanya.”

“Magelord?”

She turns to look at me, and I kiss her, pulling her into a hug that lasts well past the brief moment of our lips meeting. I run a finger along the line of her jaw, studying its shape, and smile at her when she looks at me. “Well? Are we yet dawdling? Shouldn’t we be getting a move on?”

Her eyes narrow, and she pushes me off of her with a force that surprises me. I backpedal a step rapidly for balance and run right into an immovable wall; Amber turns me around, pulling me in for a scorchingly fierce kiss of her own. Her hands work their way up the back of my head, gently pulling on my hair as they tangle in it, and when she releases me I’m flushed with heat from my toes to the top of my head and wishing dearly that we’d gotten more than just twelve hours of grace time.

“For the road,” Amber tells me, smirking. I probably have something of a dazed expression, if my brain is anything to judge by, so she’s earned the smirk. I’m not complaining, at least; I lean against the wall, watching her ass as she walks by, or possibly just reminiscing about how it looks out of armor using the visual stimuli as an anchor.

And then Zidanya is gone, and Amber is gone, and Sara is sitting there, looking at me. “I need to be the last one out,” I tell her quietly. “I’ve got the Home Key. Well, I think I need to be the last one out. I could be wrong. But take your time, yeah?”

She nods, and I let the moment stretch in silence. “I do not understand why you are so determined to grant me distance.” The words come out in something of a rush, eventually, like once she’d decided on the sentence she had to say it all at once. “I would like to understand.”

“Doesn’t seem that complicated to me.” I scratch the back of my head awkwardly, thinking. She gives me the time to find the right words, but they’re not coming, so I just say the thing that comes to mind. “I guess… I don’t need you? Uh. I’d say void that but it’s actually true, isn’t it?” I grin at her. “Not that you’re not welcome in the party, which you absolutely are. But if you leave us when we walk out that door, I think we’ll still do okay and get out of here alive, and if you leave us after we hit the surface, I figure much the same. So as long as I’m confident you’re not gonna stab us in the back… I mean, I’m not going to put you in chains for my convenience.”

“This is not a full truth.” I raise an eyebrow at her. “You need Dame Ashborne. If she leaves you, it will destroy you; nonetheless, you intend to sever all those ties which might require her to stay.”

I whuff out a breath, feeling like I just got punched in the diaphragm. “Yeah, probably.” I close my eyes for a long moment. “I hope she’ll stay,” I say eventually, opening them again. “But it’s not staying if she doesn’t have a choice.”

Sara nods at me, and stands, striding over to the door. She pauses there, looking at me, like she’s going to say something, then walks out.

I follow, expecting the cold in my gut to last. Instead, as I cross the threshold of Keyhome, I can only remember the way Amber’s fingers felt in my hair, and I’m smiling.