The necromancer woke with the first thought that he was dead.

He couldn't see anything, couldn't move. He felt neither warm nor cold, could not hear nor smell.

Wow. This sucks.

Then a cloth was lifted off him and a gaggle of pale children shrieked with delight.

“He's not dead!”

“How good! He won't break so easily as the others then!”

“But don't you think he smells familiar?”

The necromancer glared at them, sitting up stiffly, a hand clutched to his chest where the Hunt leader's sword had pierced his sternum. “Ugh. Flower fairies. Worst pains in the arses... Where's the dog? And... the monk?”

“Oh, look, his eyes! They're the same as us!”

“Are you a flower fairy too, mister?”

“I'll give ye flower fairy,” he growled, transforming into his feminine form before their eyes. This provoked further shrieks of excitement.

“Mister is a Miss!”

“Do it again!”

“Are you a noble? Do we need to bow?”

The fairy children giddily curtsied and bowed, or tried to do both at once, giggling as they fell in a heap. They were all gathered on a grassy sward, bathed in pale, warm sunlight, as if this was outdoors and not under a mound.

The necromancer turned her head to find Sou Yuet was sitting right next to her. “There ye are. How're ye feeling?”

Sou Yuet's response was to give the necromancer a glance from the corner of their eye, apparently reluctant to fully meet the witch's gaze.

“Right. Anything else?”

“...orry...” The monk's voice was very small. The pale fairy children flitted around the two of them, plaiting their long hair, playing hide and seek, and singing tiny songs in glass-clear voices.

Covering her face with her hands, the necromancer sighed deeply. “S'alright. I get it.”

“Do you?” Sou Yuet's voice was unusually harsh. An almost fearful look crossed their face, but it disappeared quickly under a bland smile. “Well, that's... Okay. Never mind.”

“Never be minding what? If ye've got a problem, say it. Don't just smile at me like ye've gone mental.”

The monk shuffled uncomfortably.

“What, ye're shy now? Think I haven't seen everything already?”

A faint smile teased the corners of Sou Yuet's mouth. “I wouldn't say you've seen everything.”

“Why, what else is... What are ye suggesting?”

“Are you blushing?”

“Ye little-”

“I don't know why I'm like this. Let's not worry about it.”

“Then we'll sit here until ye do know. Gods, why've ye gotta be such a pain in the arse about it?”

“I'm sorry I'm a pain in the arse,” Sou Yuet growled. “I'm sorry you're stuck with me! What would you like me to do? If you don't want me around, I can stay out of the way-”

“Oi! Calm down, monk! What are ye on about? I'm annoyed but I don't hate ye.”

“Don't hate me?” Sou Yuet said bitterly. “I know what you're thinking. This stupid child doesn't know how the world works. Having a tantrum. They need to learn that the world isn't fair...”

“Well, yeah. That's true.”

Sou Yuet punched her. The necromancer felt her ribs creak from the blow, folding with a grunt of pain. She almost didn't have time to dodge the next punch. The fairy children scattered, chattering in high voices.

“Ye seriously want to do this?”

“Me?”Sou Yuet roared, having well and truly lost it. “You keep prodding me!”

There was no elegance or thought behind the monk's fists. They swung wildly, punching for the necromancer's torso as if it were a bag of sand. The necromancer was able to dodge them all.

As Sou Yuet began to slow, she deflected their fists instead of dodging, firmly but gently. “Ye daft monk. What are ye doing? Do ye want to hurt me or not?”

Sou Yuet glared, panting, desperation crawling out from behind the anger.

“Ye're doing it wrong.” The necromancer caught the monk's fists. Sou Yuet probably could have broken free, but they simply let the witch manipulate their hands.

“This is all ye need to know – fingers in the eyes, knuckles under the nose, fist to the throat, palm in the sternum.” Closing her eyes, she placed Sou Yuet's fingers against her eyelids, pressing lightly. “Go on.”

Nothing happened. She opened her eyes again with Sou Yuet's fingertips resting on the tops of her cheeks and the monk's exhausted gaze meeting hers.

“How're ye feeling?” the necromancer asked again.

“I'm sorry.”

“Ye aren't answering my question.”

“It's how I feel though,” Sou Yuet replied, tugging their hands lightly. The necromancer let go, and the monk folded their hands quietly into their sleeves. The anger and frustration was gone, hidden behind a blank countenance.”I didn't mean to shout, or get angry at you.”

The necromancer squinted. “Ah Yuet... I ain't yer mam and pa, ye know?”

“What... What's that supposed to mean?”

Scratching her neck, the necromancer clicked her tongue. “It's alright to disagree. Or fight. Or get upset. Ye're allowed to. Just... Can we talk about stuff too?”

“Aren't you angry at me?” Sou Yuet asked mildly, as if the question had no importance.

“Why?”

“I know what I did was not wise. I let my emotions get the better of me. And you...” Sou Yuet's eyes drifted to the necromancer's chest.

“Folks do dumb shite when they're angry.”

“That's no excuse,” Sou Yuet said simply.

“I'd be angry too, if I weren't so...”

“... jaded?”

“What's that mean?”

“Tired of the way the world is.”

“Sounds right.” She threw a comradely arm around the monk's shoulders, pulling down so they were sat on the grass once more. The fairy children came buzzing back.

“As long as anyone can remember... and I suppose that means as long as me mam can remember, the Hunt's has... They've been going around these parts hunting anything they can find. Beasts. Humans. Spirits. They're fast and relentless and practically immortal, so there's not much folks can do about them. Well, there are some folks that could probably be doing something, but they've got other business. Maybe.”

“If one has the ability, one should use that ability.”

“Well, when I say they could do something, I mean they could set fire to the whole forest, or tear the Hunt into tiny pieces and eat them bit by bit.”

“That also sounds unpleasant.”

“Right? But what else could be done? Talk to the Hunters? They won't listen. Try and scare them out of it? The Hunt's scared of nothing. Punish them? How?” She sighed and leaned against the monk, who leaned back to counterbalance the weight. “The Hunt's made of them who've already been abandoned. They've don't care about anything anymore. They've seen the worst of the world, and decided the best thing to do was join in with it. Ye can't be scared of monsters if ye're one yerself.” She suddenly became aware of the position she and the monk were currently in but there didn't seem to be any way of getting out of it without making things awkward, so she continued talking. “It's not like I don't get why ye're angry. But it ain't simple.”

“So I'm learning, every day.” Sou Yuet toyed with the grass between them. It sprouted a tiny spray of flowers, miniature purple and orange anthers popping prettily from between the nondescript glumes. “I think Si fu did me a disservice. He's too compassionate and forgiving.”

“Seems like it. If ye'd have grown up with me mam, she'd have put ye right. Do no harm, take no shite.”

Sou Yuet smiled softly. “I'm looking forward to meeting your mother. If I may.”

“Why not?” the necromancer mumbled, pushing the monk off. Sou Yuet lay where they had fallen, staring at the far off roof of the fairy mound as the fairy children twisted the monk's long pale hair about with flowers.

“I still... want to do something.”

“Figured. But I'd rather not get stabbed again.”

“I'm sorry.” Sou Yuet looked intensely remorseful.

“I'm just teasing, don't give me that face. What do ye want to do?”

“I don't know.”

“Great start.”

Sou Yuet punched her again, this time without any force.

“Ow. Seriously, though. Where's Sunny?”

“Over there.”

Sunny was flat on her back, dark little eyes closed and blue tongue lolling from her mouth as little fairies enthusiastically scrubbed her stomach, scratched behind her ears, and combed her tail. A bandage secured a splint to one of her forelegs, and occasionally she would snap at a fairy that got too excited and tugged at her fur, but otherwise she looked the picture of contentment.

“She liked my voice.”

“Sunny?”

“The leader of the Hunt.”

“Ye're not going to be singing to her, are you?”

“I don't know how to sing.”

“Should I teach ye?”

“Do people sing a lot in the west?”

“We do. I mean...” The necromancer looked lost for words.

“'We'?”

“The...Aes Sídhe. Us that live in the mounds, like this one.”

Sou Yuet's gaze drifted over the pale, warm grass, the twittering flower fairies, the far-off cavern ceiling, twinkling with lights, and finally returned to the necromancer nervous, bright green eyes.

“They asked if you were a noble.”

The witch looked uncomfortable. “The Aes Sídhe are snobby bastards. More power and ability ye have, the higher ye sit in the hierarchy. Mam probably would have been something big here, if she cared.”

“And the same for you. Or would they discriminate against you?”

“You kidding? You saw what the Hunt was like. The Leader is a Tiarna, the highest rank below a Rí.”

“Does she have a name?”

“Lots. Lady Herela, Tiarna Ó Slúag – Lord of the Host, Flaith Sluagh na marbh – Prince of the Dead Host. Dramatic stuff.”

Sou Yuet stood up. “I'm going to talk with her.”

“Ye what?”

“Stay here. I'll be back soon.”

“Ye're kidding, right? As if I'll let ye go by yerself.”

She thought her heart would stop. Sou Yuet's cool hand gently brushed her cheek.

“I... have no right to ask anything of you,” the monk said quietly. “If you came with me, I would be very happy. But after this-” The monk lightly tapped the centre of her chest. “- I have no confidence. I don't want you to be hurt. And it makes me sad when I upset you. Best that you stay here.”

“I'll be a damned sight more upset and hurt if ye left me here,” she growled. “Besides, do you even know how to get out?”

Sou Yuet took another, puzzled, look around the space they were in. Aside from the distant cavern roof, there was no sign of any walls, let alone doors. They tapped their lips thoughtfully, then turned to the flower fairies still buzzing around.

“Children?” The monk's eyes glittered with green flecks like falling leaves. “Could you show me the way out?”

The fairies gathered, captivated by the colour of Sou Yuet's eyes. “It's this way, pretty person. Are you a noble too?”

“You feel different though. You smell different. Where do you come from?”

“Did this Lord here kidnap you to be her slave?”

“To be her pet?”

“To be her husband?”

“To be her wife?”

“SHUT IT, YE NOISY FLOWER HEADS!”

The fairy scattered, giggling, but led Sou Yuet and the necromancer to a ring of mushrooms. Sunny followed reluctantly, yawning.

“Here it is!”

“Stand in there.”

“Come and visit it us again, One Who Speaks With Plants, One Who Speaks With the Dead.”

“Invite us to your wedding!”

“YE CAN SH-”

Sou Yuet smiled, bowed, and pulled the necromancer into the mushroom circle.

They were in the dark woods once more. The necromancer immediately draped the fur cloak back over the monk. Sunny shook herself reproachfully.

“They're about a day's ride away,” the necromancer said, opening her eyes. “We should keep moving.”

“Agreed.”

“Next time ye do something like that, tell me first, alright? I might not agree but I'll still help ye.” She rubbed her neck, looking embarrassed. “I mean, I don't have much of a choice, do I? After all, I'm...”

She wanted to say what she always said. I'm a criminal, ye're here to keep me in line. Even if I didn't want to, I have to do what ye say.

Who was she kidding, really?

What she said instead was, “... I'm yer friend, aren't I? Yer... Pang Yau.”

This time, her heart turned over in her chest. Sou Yuet's eyes were bright and wide, the brilliant green flecks glittering even in that cloudy day.

“Yes! My Pang Yau.”