Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The elderly mole librarian adjusted her glasses, squinting at the long list in her claws. “Francis Wilder’s Journal of the Far Isles has been checked out.”

Nessa sighed. Disappointing, but not unexpected. Although, it did surprise her that someone was just as interested as she was in the ancient book on the famed Serpent’s Eye. A kindred spirit, perhaps?

“When is it due back?” she asked.

The librarian frowned. “Seven months ago.”

Nessa gaped. “ Seven months?” she echoed, dumbstruck. “But that’s not—that can’t be right. Why hasn’t anyone tried to get it back?”

The librarian blinked apathetically. “Because, young lady,” she said dryly, “when the king’s brother requests a book from the library, he very seldom allows it to be taken back.”

Nessa stared, realization hitting her right away. The king’s brother. Lapin.

Lapin, the ambitious prince who had tried to take the throne for himself even after his brother was crowned. Lapin, who had fought King Peter and lost, and been rotting in a dark, cliffside dungeon for the last fourteen years ever since. She had only been a child when it all had gone down, but she knew the story well, as did everyone in Featherbeard.

He was the one who had the book?

“I don’t understand,” she said. “He’s a prisoner. How is he able to request books at all, and”—she laughed incredulously—“ keep them for so long?”

The librarian gave her a tired look. “My dear, I’ve asked myself the same question for years,” she muttered. “King Peter allows his brother to check out books as he pleases, most likely out of the goodness of his heart. You know how he is. Now, of course, he expects the books to be returned, but Lapin is… well, Lapin.” She shook her head. “I’m sure you can imagine the difficulties we’ve faced trying to get the books back.”

Nessa still couldn’t quite believe her ears. Surely the king knew by now that his brother was insulting him. It had been twenty years since the start of his imprisonment; Lapin no doubt had a mountain of overdue library books inside his cell. She had heard many stories about him; she knew he was greedy and heartless, more cunning and manipulative than anyone in the kingdom.

Apparently he was incredibly petty as well.

“Well, he can’t keep getting away with this,” she said at last. “You’re telling me no one has been able to get a single book back from him? He can’t be that dangerous.”

“You underestimate him, girl,” the librarian said gravely. “He’s a desperate man who’s been locked away for years. He will take advantage of anyone, and he can turn anything into a weapon. Even a carrot. ”

It shouldn’t have been funny, but Nessa snorted at her statement. Even a carrot? “You know what?” she said, standing a little taller. “I’ll go pay him a visit. I’ll get that book back, and maybe a few more.”

The librarian pushed her glasses further up her nose. “I wouldn’t advise that, my dear,” she said. “It’s really not a good idea.”

Nessa shrugged. “He’s locked up,” she pointed out. “How much can he really do? Talk me to death?”

The more she spoke about it, the more her confidence grew. The people of Featherbeard loved to tell scary stories about the king’s evil brother, but he was no monster, really; just a prisoner in a cell. A lonely, bitter old man who thought it was funny to hoard library books like a petulant child. The librarians might have given up trying to get the books back, but Nessa was hardly daunted by the challenge.

She was going to get her book, and she wasn’t scared of some wannabe villain in a cage.

The librarian let out a sigh. “Suit yourself.”

^ ^ ^

Not long after leaving the library, Nessa found herself at the entrance to the dungeons.

She stood before the massive doors, extending her hand to knock a couple times. After a minute or two, they opened for her, revealing an extremely weary-looking frog on the other side, holding a torch.

“Need somethin’?” he asked.

Nessa cleared her throat. “I’m here to see Lapin.”

“Lapin?” The frog furrowed his slimy brows. “Whatcha want with him?”

“He has a book I need,” she answered simply.

“Ah. Right.” He blinked slowly, one eye at a time. “Didn’t think people were still comin’ here for that. Whatever, come in.”

He beckoned her, and she stepped inside, following him down the stairs. The frog warden opened a gate and led her past a desk of sorts, where another frog was snoring away in his seat. At the end of the hall was a cell with a small duck inside, swinging back and forth on a hanging perch.

The duck grinned at her. “Careful, lady, it only gets worse from here!” he said deviously. “I’m in here for murder, so you can only imagine what Lapin’s done—”

“He’s not in here for murder,” the warden deadpanned, stepping inside a cage-shaped elevator. “He just didn’t pay his taxes.”

The duck cackled. “I murdered the tax code, ” he said cheekily. “The prison that can hold Barry Goldfarb hasn’t been built!”

Nessa fought the urge to laugh at that, following the frog into the elevator. She heard the bird—Barry, apparently—continue gabbing as the elevator started to move down, but she couldn’t quite make it out.

The elevator descended lower and lower, past several more levels of dungeons and different cells. Nessa caught sight of a variety of prisoners—two beefy bulls, a jittery goat, a cat with wicked claws. She flashed Nessa a grin as the elevator passed by, the tips of her silver claws gleaming in the firelight, and Nessa felt her first—and hopefully only—hint of apprehension.

“What’s she in for?” she asked.

“She’s actually in for murder,” the warden answered. “Well, attempted murder, anyway. She was one of Lapin’s accomplices, back in the day. Real dangerous.”

Nessa tried not to dwell on that. This was a prison; of course there would be all kinds of criminals in here. That cat was locked up, and so was Lapin.

There was nothing to be afraid of.

“Couple things to remember,” the warden said, bringing her back to the present. “Don’t pass Lapin anything; he’s a crafty guy and he’ll use it against you. Do not approach the cell, do not touch the bars, and whatever you do, don’t reach through the bars. The last guy to do that spent a month in the hospital.”

Nessa shot him a baffled look. What? What exactly had Lapin done to him?

“Granted, that was for the flu,” the frog clarified, “but I’m pretty sure he caught that from Lapin.”

Nessa wrinkled her nose. Great. So Lapin was terrible in every way possible and also disease-ridden? How exciting this was turning out to be…

The elevator came to a stop all of a sudden and the frog got out. Nessa moved to follow him, but the warden shut the door behind him, keeping her in. “One more level,” he told her. “You’re on your own now, little lady.”

Nessa looked at him, confused. “What? You’re not coming with me?”

“The union says I don’t have to,” the warden replied. “Good luck down there, though. It’s too far down for us to hear any screaming, so don’t try, alright? Just shake the chain three times in a row when you’re ready to go back up.”

Nessa couldn’t help but focus on the earlier half of his statement. Why would he feel the need to mention screaming? Was Lapin truly that threatening, even from inside his cell? “O…kay?” she finally responded, but the elevator was already being lowered.

The deeper she went, the quieter it got. She realized quickly that this was indeed the lowest level of the dungeons, not another soul in sight, just a dark, cavernous pit lit only by torches in scattered spots along the walls. She steadied her breathing, doing her best to remain level-headed. She was alone now, that much was true, but she could handle this. She’d made the decision to come all the way down here, after all. She just needed to remember what she’d come here for—the book.

Lapin couldn’t hurt her, and she didn’t need help. Everything was going to be fine.

After what felt like a lifetime, the elevator finally hit the ground. She opened the door and took a cautious step out, following the line of torches towards the cell at the end of the cavern.

Lapin’s cell. She was certain of it.

She stopped several feet away from the bars, keeping a good distance as the warden had advised. It was oddly dark inside the cell, and she craned her neck, trying to make out the shape of the man she was looking for.

“Hello?” she called in.

A moment of silence passed, then suddenly, there was movement on the other side of the bars. Slowly, someone began to come forward, stepping into the faint light, and a hare with gray fur and one bent ear appeared from out of the darkness.

Nessa held her breath. She was face to face with Lapin.

The hare was lean, unlike his brother, with angular features and deep bags under and around his eyes. His pale fur was silvering with age, though the patch of hair at the top of his head remained dark. He looked a bit haggard, like he hadn’t slept or seen the sun in years, but his eyes were unusually bright—alert, and right now, focused on Nessa.

Lapin wrapped his fingers around the bars and tilted his head curiously, studying her from head to toe. “Well, well,” he said, his voice gravelly as if he’d just woken up, “what do we have here?”

Chapter Text

Nessa hadn’t known what Lapin would sound like, but somehow, what he did sound like still came as something of a surprise. Hearing about him in stories was one thing, but hearing him speak in real life was something entirely different. She wasn’t sure what to think of it yet, but for whatever reason, she didn’t find it all that unpleasant. He almost sounded like a teacher, or someone who read stories to children at the library.

She shook her head. She was in the presence of the man who had once tried to take over the kingdom. An evil man. Now was not the time to be dwelling on the sound of his voice.

Nessa relaxed her shoulders, making an effort to look him squarely in the eye. “I’m here on behalf of the library,” she said calmly. “You have a book that’s been overdue for seven months, and I’d like it back, please.”

Lapin raised an eyebrow. “A book,” he said flatly. He let out an amused laugh. “ You came all the way down here for a book? Who are you, exactly?”

She hesitated. She didn’t have to give him her name, technically, but if she did, would it make him more willing to trust her and hand over the book? “My name is Nessa,” she said after a heartbeat.

A smile formed on Lapin’s lips. “Nessa,” he repeated, as if testing it on his tongue. “And what is it you do, Nessa? Are you a librarian? A librarian’s assistant?”

Nessa hardly thought that was relevant. “Neither,” she replied. “I’m just looking for a book.”

“Right.” He continued to regard her with interest. “I must say—you’re quite brave for coming down here, especially by yourself.” He leaned just a bit closer to the bars. “You must really want that book.”

Nessa tried not to be affected by his tone. She didn’t appreciate being spoken down to, and being this close to a criminal like him was unnerving enough. “Like I said, it’s seven months overdue,” she said with a bit more firmness. “So I would like it, please.”

He smirked. “And what book is it that you want, exactly?”

“The Journal of the Far Isles. By Francis Wilder.”

Lapin blinked, his eyes widening unexpectedly. “ That one?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “Why would you want that one?”

Nessa didn’t understand the question. “I… want to read it?”

Lapin’s gaze was searching, scrutinizing. “It’s… written in Serpentese,” he said in a low voice. “Are you saying you can… read that?”

Nessa nodded. “Yeah. I studied it in school.”

The hare did not look away from her, intrigue in his expression. “A bunny who can read Serpentese,” he mused, chuckling. “Very few know how to do that. You must be quite special.”

Nessa was unsure how to reply. It was true it was a rare skill, one she had taught herself outside of her regular schooling, but she wasn’t the only animal who could read Serpentese. “I’m hardly special,” she said simply.

“Oh, you’re being too modest,” Lapin insisted. “That’s a highly valuable talent. In fact… I bet you’d be a perfect asset to the Royal Adventure Society. Isn’t that right?” He gave her a knowing look.

A chill traveled down Nessa’s spine. He couldn’t possibly know she was a translator for the Society—they’d only just met—but perhaps he was merely trying to get her to reveal that information. Unfortunately for him, she wasn’t going to tell him anything about her work. “Some might say that,” she said coolly.

“Indeed.” Lapin smiled, then straightened up a bit. “So sorry—allow me to introduce myself,” he said, doing the smallest of bows from inside the cell. “I am Lapin. Brother to the king. The villain in all your fairy tales. But then again… I’m sure you already knew that.” He grinned, revealing his teeth.

Nessa knew better than to think he was being gentlemanly. This politeness was all an act, and he was likely stalling on top of that. She gave him a curt smile. “I’m familiar with you,” she said.

Lapin crossed his arms. “I’m sure you are,” he drawled. “I bet you know all about what a big bad man I am. How I tried to steal the throne from my noble brother.”

How did he expect her to answer that? “I know what’s been told in history books.”

He laughed, examining her for a second. “Of course,” he said, amused. “You poor dear, you must have only been a child when it all happened. Too young to know what really went down that day.”

A small part of her, somewhere deep inside, was curious about what he meant, but Nessa reined herself in. She wasn’t a fool; she knew how manipulative he could be, and she was not about to believe whatever twisted version of the story he intended to tell. “I know enough,” she said. “And I know that you’re in the deepest cell in the dungeons right now, answering for crimes you committed.”

Her choice of words was bold, that was for sure, but she wasn’t going to let herself be intimidated by him.

Lapin let out another rumbling laugh. “Such a serious girl,” he remarked. “You really aren’t afraid of me? Not even after all you’ve heard?” He returned to grip the bars, peering through them straight at her. “You’re not afraid I’ll bite your head off? Or stab you with a carrot?” He punctuated “stab” by motioning with one hand, snickering as he pretended to brandish a knife.

In all honesty, Nessa couldn’t say she wasn’t afraid of him at all. There was something about him that anyone would find unsettling; he’d been locked away for fourteen years, rotting alone in the darkest depths of the dungeons with no one to talk to and almost nothing to do. There was no doubt he was desperate, and restless to get out. She was sure he would hurt her if it gave him a chance of escaping; he’d hurt plenty of others for that reason, if the warden was to be believed.

Yet, somehow, her fears weren’t holding her back. She could stand and face him, and still see an ordinary hare, however evil he was supposed to be. She might have even felt sorry for him if he wasn’t such an obvious prick under his facade.

Nessa shrugged. “I don’t see a carrot,” was all she said, opting for a humorous response.

Lapin took a moment, as if to process her answer, then he threw back his head and cackled. “Indeed you don’t, my dear. It must be your lucky day.” He took a step back, smirk still on his face. “Let me get that book for you.”

Relief filled Nessa. Was he actually getting it? Thank goodness. Perhaps she’d gotten through to him after all, however weird this interaction had been so far.

She watched as he moved towards the back of his cell, and saw that she’d been right about his “mountain” of books; there was a whole wall of them, all of them undoubtedly long-overdue library books. Lapin rummaged through them for a moment, then grabbed one book from a stack and faced her again. “Is this the one?” he asked, showing her the cover.

Nessa read the embroidered letters of the title from where she stood; it was definitely the Journal. “Yes, that’s it,” she said. “Thank you. I can take it off your hands now.”

Lapin smiled slyly. “Well, I’d be happy to hand it over,” he said. “But…” He tapped his chin with one finger, as if in thought. “Well, I just don’t think it’s very fair, now is it?”

Nessa looked at him skeptically. “What are you talking about?”

He chuckled. “Think about it this way,” he said. “I’m giving you something, but… well, you’re not giving me anything back. Not an equal exchange. Does that make sense?”

Nessa felt frustration growing in the pit of her stomach. Of course he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. But what was she supposed to do? “It’s perfectly fair,” she countered. “You kept a library book seven months past its due date, and I’m taking it back.”

Lapin looked over the book, feigning contemplation. “I’ve just grown rather fond of it,” he murmured. “It gets so lonely down here, you know. And boring. The only friends I have are these books. Even when I’m finished reading them, I can’t bear to part with them. Can you blame me?” He pursed his lip in a fake pout.

Even a child could see through his act. Nessa sighed. If she wanted the book, she was going to have to negotiate. “Look, I can’t give you anything,” she said earnestly. “And even if I could, I don’t have anything to give you.” It was true; all she had in the pocket of her cardigan was an eraser nub and some hard candy, and she doubted he’d want either of those things. And she would never even think of giving him the crystal around her neck.

“Oh, I don’t need anything material, ” he said. “What I want is very simple, really. All I ask is…" He paused, as if building suspense. "...that you come visit again.” 

Nessa took in his request, puzzled. “Visit—again? When?”

“Oh, anytime, I suppose,” he said airily. “But soon, preferably. Perhaps tomorrow night, if you’re free.” His eyes glinted in the torchlight.

That was… odd. That was what he wanted? “You want me to come back,” Nessa said, “just to… what? Talk?”

“Why not?” Lapin put his hands behind his back. “As I said, it gets so very lonely down here. It’s refreshing to speak to anyone at all, let alone an… intellectual like yourself.”

Nessa felt the slightest bit of heat beneath her cheeks, and immediately wanted to kick herself. Stop being an idiot. He’s just buttering you up. “So,” she said, remaining unwavering, “you want me to come back some other time. To… chat. Why not talk now?”

Lapin stretched his arms, yawning all of a sudden. “Well, I’m just feeling rather tired, you see,” he replied. “I think I’m just about ready for a nap. An old man needs his rest, after all.”

Nessa nearly rolled her eyes at that. He wasn’t that old. Old enough to be her father, maybe, but not a senior. She knew perfectly well that he was just messing with her—trying to see how far she would go to get the book from him. There was no rhyme or reason to it, just a bored conman playing a game with her.

If this book wasn’t about to be important for the king’s next expedition, she might have given up and refused to entertain him. She would be more than happy to get back on that elevator and return to the surface, never to see Lapin and his smug face again, but leaving felt like surrendering. She needed the book, yes, but more than that, she didn’t want to be seen as someone who walked away. Someone who backed down from a challenge.

She would play his game. For now.

“Fine, then,” she finally said. “I’ll come back. Tomorrow night.”

Lapin didn’t bother to hide his pleased grin. “Excellent,” he said. He toyed with the Journal, swinging it back and forth in one hand. “Come back and we’ll chat for a little while. Get to know each other a bit better. Then you’ll get your book. Sound fair?”

Not quite, Nessa thought with irritation, but she just gave him a nod. “Alright, then. Tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow.” He ran a clawed finger idly over the letters on the book’s cover. “I’ll be expecting you.”

Nessa said nothing else, happy to turn on her heels and head back towards the elevator. She got inside and shook the chain three times, and a moment later, it began to rise. As she ascended, she was more than aware of the curious eyes inside Lapin’s cell, watching her intently.

Chapter Text

Despite her apprehensions, Nessa was determined to keep her word.

The following night, she returned to the cliffside tower, and once again rode the elevator down to the bottom floor. She found Lapin waiting for her inside the cell, humming to himself on his stool while flipping through a book. Another overdue one, she guessed. The second he noticed her, he grinned, slapping the book shut. “Nessa,” he greeted her. “How pleasant to see you. I was beginning to worry you’d changed your mind.”

Hearing him address her by name was strange; a part of her wished he didn’t know it at all. “I did agree to come,” she replied calmly.

“Indeed you did.” Lapin rose from his stool. “Have you eaten, dear? It’s quite late.”

Nessa blinked, surprised to hear such a question leave his mouth. “Yes, I ate,” she answered after a heartbeat. “Not too long ago. Have you?” She supposed it was polite to ask him as well.

Lapin smiled. “Oh yes, I did, thank you,” he said. “I thought it was only right to ask. It would not be best to be here on an empty stomach.”

That made her a bit uneasy. “What exactly will we be discussing?”

Lapin chuckled. “Oh, nothing much,” he reassured her. “In fact”—he picked up a book from his pile nearby, revealed to be the Journal —“we can discuss whatever you’d like. I’m sure you must be burning with questions.”

It was painfully obvious that he was asking because he enjoyed being the center of attention. However, Nessa couldn’t deny that she did have questions. She was speaking with the king’s brother, a former prince; the man who had tried to seize the throne. He was the most notorious criminal in Featherbeard, but he was also still considered one of the greatest explorers to have been a part of the Royal Adventure Society.

If Lapin wanted to chat, she would indulge him, as long as she got her book.

“Alright, then.” She leaned against the cavern wall, still keeping a good distance from the cell door. “How does this work? Can I ask you anything I want?”

Lapin smirked. “Certainly,” he said. “But I can also ask you anything I want. Just to keep things fair. And do try to keep your answers honest. Answer truthfully, and I will do the same.”

Nessa highly doubted he would be completely truthful with her, but she just had to trust him. “Very well,” she said evenly. “We can talk, like you wanted. And then you’ll give me the book?”

Lapin returned to his stool, taking a seat once more with the book in his lap. “I give you my word,” he said.

He sounded utterly at ease, but Nessa, on the other hand, was hardly comfortable. For the second time in two days, she was alone with the most dangerous hare in the kingdom, and on top of that, she had nowhere to sit. But if she wanted the Journal, she would just have to deal with it all in stride.

“Fine, I’ll go first,” she said. “Why take over the kingdom?”

Lapin laughed. “A predictable first question,” he remarked. “But easily answered. Because I deserve the throne, that’s why. I was next in line, until my senile dolt of a father decided to make my brother king instead.”

Nothing about his story was new to Nessa, but his answer didn’t satisfy her. “There’s more to it, though, isn’t there?” she pressed. “There has to be a bigger reason you’d want to fight for the throne.”

Lapin frowned deeply. “A bigger reason?” he repeated sourly. “Being disrespected by my father, brother, and the entire kingdom all in the same day is reason enough. That crown was mine, and they took it from me.”

Nessa thought for a moment. “Why did your father make your brother king?” she asked. She had her own theories about it, but she wanted to hear his answer nonetheless.

Lapin dug his nails into the cover of the Journal. “Who knows,” he spat. “My father was a ridiculous old man. Too soft for his own good, just like my brother. He always liked Peter best; I should have known he’d cast me aside.” His lip curled into a snarl. “Perfect, noble Peter, with his two good ears and sensitive little heart. Of course I’d never measure up.”

Nessa glanced at Lapin’s bent ear. She’d noticed it right away when she’d first met him, but she’d hardly thought about it at all. Was he really that insecure about it? So much that he thought his father had deemed him unworthy because of it? Without thinking, she said, “There’s nothing wrong with your ear.”

Lapin looked up, taken aback by her comment. He was quiet for a second, as if processing what she’d just said, then he snorted. “Of course there is,” he muttered. “ Look at it. All the other children laughed at me. Called me broken.”

That was cruel, Nessa could admit. But then again, children had a tendency to be cruel. “Can you hear with it as well as the other?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Lapin regarded her, interest creeping into his expression. “You really are burning with questions, aren’t you?” he said with a chuckle. “Yes, I can hear just fine with it, although it isn’t quite as good as the other.” He raised an eyebrow. “What, trying to discern my weaknesses?”

Nessa crossed her arms. “I thought I was free to ask any question I wanted.”

“You are,” he said. “But I think it’s my turn now.” He grinned, shifting slightly on his stool. “What is it you do, Nessa?”

She’d known that would be his first question, and prepared accordingly. “I’m a linguist,” she answered. “I study other languages, usually ancient ones, and translate them.”

“And who requires your services?” Lapin asked with a smirk. “The Royal Adventure Society would need a translator the most, I’d imagine.”

Nessa thought carefully about how to respond. Would it change anything if Lapin knew she worked for the Society? He was locked up, after all. Still, the idea of giving him such personal information—about a group he had been kicked out of, no less—unsettled her. Would he resent her if she told him she worked for the king? Would he be less likely to hand over the Journal ?

Or—perhaps worse—would he find that information useful? Something to store away for later?

She decided, finally, to give a mostly honest answer. “Sometimes they have me do translations,” she replied. It wasn’t entirely a lie; she was a member of the Society, even just as a linguist, but it was true they didn’t always need her help.

Lapin looked pleased. “I thought so,” he said. “As I said yesterday, being able to read Serpentese isn’t a common talent. Tell me, when did you think to start learning it?”

That answer came easily to her. “I’ve always been fascinated by history,” she said earnestly. “Old languages, ancient civilizations.” Nessa remembered her childhood, reading alone and losing herself in old history books when no one else wanted to play with her. “So I started studying those languages as soon as I was able. I thought they might come in handy one day.”

Lapin smiled knowingly. “Oh, they definitely will,” he said. “Serpentese, at least.” He studied the book in his hand. “Looks like the good king has set his sights on the Serpent’s Eye.”

Nessa said nothing, though she felt a slight shiver run through her. She’d figured he would put two and two together, but it didn’t have to mean anything. Not yet.

Lapin looked up at her. “I’m guessing by your silence that I’m correct.”

Nessa maintained her composure. “I wouldn’t know,” she lied. “They haven’t told me anything about it yet.”

“Oh, but they have, haven’t they?” Lapin cocked his head, tapping the book against his cheek. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have come looking for the Journal. Isn’t that right?”

Nessa swallowed. Where was he going with this? Was he trying to back her into a corner? What good would it do him? “I just told you, I’m a history enthusiast,” she said with a shrug. “I read books like these all the time, in all kinds of languages. I’m reading it for myself.”

He eyed her thoughtfully. “What other languages can you read?” he asked abruptly.

Nessa was careful with her response. She listed a few of the languages she could interpret—albeit not all of them—and Lapin nodded.

The silver hare was quiet for a long moment, as if thinking, then he leaned forward in the stool. “What do you know about the Serpent’s Eye?” he asked in a low voice.

Nessa held his gaze, despite how his eyes threatened to pierce right through her. “It’s a coveted treasure,” she said simply. “A golden staff that holds the eye of the Serpent God. They say that anyone who has it can see the future, and will wield the power of the Old Gods.”

Lapin grinned approvingly. “So you know the stories,” he said. “And… do you believe them?”

Why would he ask her that? Of course she believed the stories; the world they lived in was full of magic. She’d never seen it with her own eyes, but she didn’t need proof to know it was true. “I do,” she said at last.

Lapin’s smile widened, and once again, she felt a chill, like he knew something she did not. What was going on in that head of his? Before her thoughts could wander too far, however, he spoke. “Well, my dear, you’ve convinced me,” he said, getting up from his stool. “I’ll give you the book.”

Nessa resisted the urge to scoff. She hadn’t needed to convince him of anything; they’d had a deal. Oh, whatever. He’s giving me the Journal. About damn time.

“For a small price.”

Nessa stared at him. Had she misheard him? “What?” she said, bewildered. “What are you talking about? The deal is that I would come back and talk with you. Then you would give me the Journal. ”

“Yes, yes, we agreed to that,” he said, waving his hand, “but I’ve just decided I want a little something… extra. Just something to really sweeten the deal, if you get what I’m saying.”

She sighed heavily, not bothering to hide her irritation at this point. “I already told you,” she said exasperatedly, “I don’t have anything to give you. And I couldn’t give you anything even if I did.”

Lapin’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, but you’re wrong. There is something you can give me.” He leaned against the bars, still toying with the book. “You could… give me a kiss.”

Nessa balked, so taken aback by his words that she nearly stumbled and fell. He—of all creatures—had the audacity to ask her that? She almost laughed out loud. “A kiss,” she said, disbelieving. “You—you can’t be serious.”

“Just a little one,” he said breezily. “On the cheek, if you’d prefer. That’s all, really. One little kiss, and then you get your book, just like that.”

Nessa studied him, still utterly confused. “Why?” was the only thing she could ask. Why… a kiss, of all things?

Lapin hummed. “Why, I can’t remember the last time I was shown affection,” he replied. “Or experienced something as sweet as a little kiss on the cheek. There are many things I miss, but that kind of warmth ”—his mouth quirked up into a pleased smile—“is something I miss very much indeed.”

Nessa did not move for several heartbeats, her mind racing as she contemplated what to do. She needed the Journal for King Peter, and she’d intended to get it on her own up until now, but was it still worth it to do things her way? Enough to give the most hated man in Featherbeard a kiss just to get him to hand over the book?

She gritted her teeth, staring furiously at the cavern floor. He was doing this to assert his power over her, to embarrass her. To remind her that he had something she wanted, and she would have to give up her pride to get it from him. Even from their brief interactions, she knew just how much he loved to be in control, to toy with others to maintain the upper hand. It was why he still had so many library books, and no one dared to take them from him.

It would not be difficult for her to speak with the king, and have him take the Journal from Lapin by force; Lapin had proven himself to be unreasonable enough. But that would mean she had let him get the best of her. The idea of kissing him, of getting close enough to do so and being vulnerable in such a way, even for a few seconds, made her ill. It was risky to get too close to him. But what would people think of her if they knew she had given up?

Nessa took a deep breath, standing tall as she met his gaze again. “Fine,” she said. “A kiss on the cheek, then you give me the book. I won’t accept any other additions. ”

“Naturally, dear.” Lapin smiled wide, giving her a nod. “You have my word.”

That meant quite little to her, given his behavior thus far, but Nessa nodded back regardless. Then she took a cautious step forward.

She heard the frog warden’s warnings echoing in her head: Do not approach the cell. Do not touch the bars. Do not reach through the bars. In a second, she was going to have to do all three. But she’d already made up her mind. King Peter wanted the book. But even more than that—she wouldn’t let Lapin make a fool out of her. Where others had failed, she would succeed.

Even if it cost her some of her dignity.

She came to a halt right in front of the barred door, as close to Lapin as she dared be. He met her on the other side of the bars, eyes glinting as he peered down at her. He was taller than her, but she refused to cower under him. He grinned, turning his face to expose his furred cheek. “Well then,” he purred, “go ahead.”

Nessa bristled. She still couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. “Not so fast,” she said. “Slip the book between the bars. So I know you’ll hand it to me.”

He chuckled, amused. “We’ll move at the same time,” he conceded. “On the count of three, hm? I’ll count, and on three, we’ll each give each other what we asked for.”

She had no choice but to agree. “Alright.”

“Good. One…”

Nessa leaned in, hairs standing on end as she prepared herself. She saw Lapin lift his arm, book in hand, and she relaxed ever so slightly. This was going to be fine. She could do this.

“Two…”

She moved her face closer to his cheek, her skin burning under her fur. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d given anyone a kiss like this. It was ridiculous. It was humiliating.

Suddenly, there was a loud smack, and when she looked down, startled, she realized that Lapin had dropped the book. Before she could react, she felt his hand shoot through the bars and wrap around her throat, pulling her against the cold metal. She met his eyes in her shock, and he flashed his teeth at her.

“Three.”

Chapter Text

Nessa wanted to fight back. She wanted to do something, anything, but she was frozen in Lapin’s grasp, blood rushing in her ears. She’d gotten too close, and now he had her by the throat. He’d tricked her, and she’d let him.

She was so unbelievably stupid.

“Shhh,” Lapin whispered, even though she hadn’t made any noise yet. “Don’t struggle. Don’t scream. I’m not going to hurt you.”

With his clawed hand around her neck, his words were anything but soothing, but Nessa did as she was told. Despite his grip, she noted that he wasn’t actually hurting her, but he easily could at any moment.

“Good girl,” he said, grinning, and she nearly shivered with disgust. “I’ll admit, I am a little sorry for tricking you, pigeon. But in my defense, you came over all by yourself.” He snickered.

Nessa gritted her teeth, wanting to snarl, to spit in his face.

All of a sudden, she felt something lightly brush her chest, and saw that Lapin had reached his other hand through the bars and taken hold of her necklace. She held her breath as he lifted the crystal at the end, studying it between two of his fingers. “Yes,” he said, laughing to himself, “this will do just nicely.”

Nessa’s heart pounded. “What are you doing?”

Lapin smirked, not looking away from the crystal. “Securing my escape,” he said simply. Then he sliced through the string of the necklace, swiftly removing it from her neck.

Nessa watched in horror as he wrapped his fingers around the crystal and smiled at it triumphantly. What was he talking about? How was it supposed to help him escape? Her crystal had no magical properties. It had been a gift from her mother, and that was the only thing special about it.

Lapin looked at her, his other hand still firmly around her throat. “Alright, listen closely,” he said, a more serious edge to his voice, “I’m going to open the door from the inside, and I’m going to keep you exactly like this. As soon as I’m out of this cell, you’re coming with me.”

Nessa’s blood ran cold. “What are you talking about?” she uttered.

He chuckled, not letting go of her neck as he lowered the crystal to the door’s keyhole and began to work at it. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said. “You’re going to help me get the Serpent’s Eye.”

Nessa’s knees threatened to buckle.

No. No, it couldn’t be true. Surely he didn’t intend to kidnap her, drag her all the way across the world, and force her to lead him to the treasure. Take her away from her home and her family, and use her as a pawn in whatever plan he’d been brewing all these years.

She felt sick to her stomach. Of course he wanted the Serpent’s Eye, and now, with someone to translate the Serpentese texts, he had a chance of getting it. If he managed to escape from this prison, she would have no choice but to help him find the Eye—and once he got his hands on it, it would spell disaster for Featherbeard. No doubt, he meant to use its power to take the throne for himself, and who knew what that meant for the kingdom. For her family. For her.

She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t.

Nessa kept still, trying desperately to think of some way out of this. If she tried to break free, he’d only tighten his grip, and there was no point screaming for help even if she could; it was too far down for anyone to hear her. She glanced down; Lapin was still fiddling with the lock, but the crystal seemed to be doing the trick, and he would have himself free any second now. She had to think of something fast.

She realized that in a moment, once he got the cell door open, he would have to move the hand currently holding her throat back through the bars. In that incredibly short window of time, he would have to release her, even just for a heartbeat, and she could make a break for it. If she could run to the elevator and lock herself inside, she could have the frogs pull her up to safety.

That was the only chance she was going to get, and she had to make it count.

Click.

“Ah!” Lapin laughed delightedly as the lock finally turned. “There we go.”

He reached for the cell door handle, and Nessa prepared herself, heart thundering in her chest. She had to be ready.

The second Lapin let go of her, slipping his arm through the bars, she bolted towards the elevator.

“What the—oh no, you don’t!” she heard him growl from behind her. The cell door swung open, and she knew Lapin was charging after her, but she didn’t stop. The elevator was just ahead of her. She had to make it. She had to.

Nessa had almost reached the elevator when suddenly she was pushed forward, a weight on her back crushing her to the ground. Lapin’s hands grabbed her wrists, securing them behind her, and she felt his breath on her ear. “Nice try, pigeon,” he hissed. “You won’t get away from me so easily.”

Nessa thrashed under him, equal fury and fear coursing through her. “Let go of me.”

“I don’t think so,” he sneered. “Linguists are hard to come by, sweetheart. Especially ones like you. You’re not going anywhere.” She continued to struggle against him, and he laughed, moving one hand back to her throat while the other kept her wrists in place. He poised a clawed finger at her jugular, and she sucked in a breath. “Don’t bother fighting back,” he mocked. “You think I don’t know hundreds of ways to kill you? I was a Royal Adventurer for ten years.”

Despite her terror, adrenaline was still pumping through her, and Nessa found the courage to retort. “You won’t kill me,” she said, breathing hard. “You need me.”

Lapin grunted. “Feisty, aren’t you?” He pressed his claw harder against her throat, not enough to draw blood, but enough to prick her warningly. “You’re right—I won’t kill you. But I can do all kinds of things to make you cooperate.”

Nessa was sure of it, and it sickened her. She raised her head just a bit, looking helplessly towards the elevator. She hadn’t made it. She’d lost her one chance to escape. 

She could try to resist him, but he was stronger than her, and far craftier. He wouldn’t kill her, but he could hurt her in other ways; he could break her arm or her leg, and then she would be even more powerless than before. And as long as the wardens didn’t have to, there was no one coming down for her.

There was no way out of this, was there?

All at once, Nessa ceased her struggling, letting herself go still on the cold cavern floor. She wouldn’t fight back anymore, at least not physically. She couldn’t beat him in that sense.

But that didn’t mean she’d given up.

Lapin let out a pleased chuckle. “That’s better,” he said, moving his claw back from her jugular. “Here’s the plan. We’re both going to ride the elevator up and I’m going to free as many prisoners as I can. Then we’re all getting a ship and getting out of here.”

A ship? How does he think he’s going to get a ship?

“You’re holding onto the book while I free the prisoners,” he continued. “Drop the book, or get rid of it somehow, and I will kill you. Don’t think I won’t.” He leaned closer to her ear. “Understand?”

For a short moment, Nessa thought about getting rid of the book. She didn’t doubt that he would kill her if she did so; he wouldn’t need her if the Journal was gone, after all. Was it worth losing her life, if it meant ensuring he never got his hands on the Eye? Was she brave or selfless enough to do something like that?

In seconds, though, she had dismissed the idea. No, she wasn’t that brave or selfless. She wanted to live. There were so many things she still hadn’t gotten to experience. She hadn’t even been on a real adventure yet. Right now, she would have to play his game once again; this time much, much more seriously. But she would find another way to stop him.

She had to.

Nessa held her tongue, forcing herself to nod.

“Good.” Lapin’s weight began to lift from her back. “No more running now, alright? It really won’t do you any good.”

He released her wrists from his hold and got up, allowing her to rise with him. Nessa collected herself as much as she could, making an effort to slow her racing heart. She had to stay calm.

Lapin picked up the Journal, having evidently dropped it right before tackling her, and dusted it off a bit. He then handed it to her, and together, the two of them stepped inside the elevator, closing the door behind them. It was a tight squeeze for a full-grown hare and a rabbit, and Nessa found herself pressed uncomfortably close to Lapin. “Well, go on,” he said, waving his hand impatiently. “Get us up there.”

Nessa scowled to herself, trying not to look at him lest she invoke his anger once more, then reached up and shook the chain three times in a row. It was only a few heartbeats before the chain shuddered, and the elevator was being pulled up.

Her ascent with Lapin was agonizing. She could feel how close he was to her, feel his warmth seeping into her fur from where their shoulders were touching, and it made her sick. She refused to meet his eyes, knowing without a doubt that he was smirking. Everything was going just as he’d planned, and he had succeeded in embarrassing her in more ways than one. This felt like a nightmare—but one she had foolishly allowed to happen.

She was almost grateful when the elevator came to a stop at the level just above them, only for her heart to sink when she saw the warden waiting for her, right where she’d left him. The frog’s eyes bulged when he saw Lapin, his hand flying to the belt at his waist. “L-Lapin!” he exclaimed. “How—how did you—”

“Escape?” Lapin was gleefully smug as he opened the cage door and snatched the torch right out of the warden’s hand. “Let’s just say I had some help. ”

The frog looked towards Nessa, stunned, and she stared at the floor in shame, clutching the book to her chest. “You—y-you freed him? How—why—”

“Enough talk,” Lapin cut him off. He shoved the torch into the frog’s face, threatening him with the flames. “Hand over the keys.”

“I-I don’t have ‘em,” the warden stammered. “They’re at the top. W-With the other guy.”

The hare frowned. “So you’re of no use to me, then?” He shrugged. “Very well.” Then he promptly kicked the warden over the edge.

Nessa gaped in horror, watching as the babbling frog tumbled down into the dark cavern below. “No!” she cried out.

“Oh, please.” Lapin climbed back inside the elevator, still holding the torch in one hand. “He’ll live. I’m sure he’ll hop his way out of that one.” He laughed at his own joke.

Nessa shook her head, disbelieving. Even if the warden did live, that was an act of pure cruelty. “You didn’t have to do that,” she muttered, not caring if he heard her.

He snorted. “What, you think I’m some kind of monster? Go ahead. Think it if you want.”

I do, she thought bitterly. But she said nothing aloud.

The elevator took them up to the ground level, where they found the other frog warden asleep at his desk. Nessa could hardly believe her eyes. He hadn’t heard any of the commotion below? How had this prison remained so secure all these years?

Lapin couldn’t have been more pleased with his luck. He was quick to nab the keys from their hook on the wall and swung them around delightedly. “That idiot can sleep through anything, apparently,” he remarked, looking contemptuously at the sleeping frog.

Nessa followed his gaze, swallowing hard. If she woke up the frog now, would he be able to help her? Did he stand any chance against Lapin? She had to try, didn’t she?

“Nessa,” Lapin barked. “With me.”

She thought quickly. No—even if she did wake him up, Lapin could still overpower them both, and it was only a matter of time before he freed more prisoners with the stolen keys.

She looked across the room. The exit was right there, just a short distance away. All she had to do was throw open those doors, and she could escape. She knew she’d been warned not to run, but maybe she had a chance after all.

What would be more foolish—playing it safe and following Lapin’s orders, or taking another shot at freedom, however risky?

Her feet were moving before she’d even fully decided. Journal in her arms, Nessa raced across the stone floor, blood pumping so loudly she couldn’t even hear whether Lapin was running after her or not. By some miracle, she made it up the stairs, but the second she reached the doors, she felt something jab her neck, and she crumpled to the floor.

“I told you not to do that,” was the last thing she heard before her eyes fluttered shut.

Chapter Text

When Nessa awoke, her head was ringing.

She shut her eyes almost as quickly as she opened them, blinking rapidly to adjust to the blinding light above her. It was daytime, she knew immediately. Morning. As consciousness returned to her, she remembered with a jolt of panic what had happened the night before.

Lapin.

She’d fallen right into his trap, and had unwittingly become his ticket to escaping prison—her crystal being his literal key. She remembered making it to the top floor with him and running for the dungeon doors towards freedom. Then… darkness.

Her heart clenched. She’d failed for a second time. Lapin had undoubtedly knocked her out, and now she was…

Where was she?

It took her a moment, but Nessa was finally able to take a proper look around. She realized with a start that she was aboard a ship, nothing but bright blue ocean on all sides, and when she tried to move her arms, she found she could not. She was currently tied to the mast of the ship, kneeling rather uncomfortably on the hard wood of the deck. She was shocked she’d been able to sleep at all given her position—but then again, she had no idea how long she’d been restrained like this.

She couldn’t see Lapin, but she did see a handful of familiar faces: most of the imprisoned animals she had seen in the dungeons. The hare had freed them after all, and clearly, enticed them enough with the promise of treasure to get them on his side.

She recognized the two brawny bulls—one swabbing the deck, the other steering the ship—and the little duck with goggles, who was flying low and doing lazy loop-de-loops in the air. Then, more concerningly, there was the cat with the wicked claws; one of Lapin’s original accomplices, evidently still loyal to him.

The cat was leaning against the rail of the ship not far away, sharpening her claws with a knife. Her notched ear twitched, and she looked up all of a sudden, glancing in Nessa’s direction. Her pale, ice-blue eyes met Nessa’s, and a fanged smile crossed her lips. “Looks like Miss Bunny’s awake,” she said, loudly enough for those in earshot to hear.

She tucked the knife away, then began striding towards Nessa. Nessa shrank back against the mast, heart rate quickening as the cat drew closer. The duck flew down, landing on the deck a few feet away from her. “Morning, sunshine!” he greeted her, waving a wing. To her surprise, his friendliness seemed to be at least partly genuine. Or maybe he was just stupid.

The cat crossed her arms, examining Nessa up and down. “Heard you gave Lapin some trouble last night,” she said with interest. “Tried to run twice, huh?”

Nessa avoided her eyes. She knew what this cat was capable of—attempted murder, according to the warden, and very likely more. She couldn’t let her new foe see how frightened she was. “Yeah, I tried,” she muttered, not knowing what else to say. “Obviously it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah, sure didn’t!” the duck chortled. Nessa decided he wasn’t that friendly after all, even if he was still rather dumb. “ Nobody runs from Lapin! Or Barry Goldf—”

“Oh, shut up, duck,” the cat snapped. She sighed. “ Anyway. Are you ready to start behaving, Bun-Bun? Can’t run when you’re this far out to sea.” She snickered. “Unless you wanna take the longest swim of your life.” Barry and the bull cleaning the deck laughed with her.

Nessa raised her head a bit, though she still didn’t quite look at the cat. “Don’t call me that,” she said firmly. “My name is Nessa.”

The cat snorted. “My bad, princess,” she said dryly. “Don’t get worked up about what I call you, though. You’re answering to Lapin. And now that you’re awake, he’s gonna want to talk to you.”

Nessa’s soul filled with dread. She feared how Lapin would treat her now that he’d stopped her from escaping twice. It dawned on her suddenly just how terrible all of this was; she was far from Featherbeard now, away from her family and friends and the Society, with no means whatsoever of getting back home. If she had been more cooperative, she might have secured a bit more comfort for herself aboard the ship, or at least tried to gain the trust of this makeshift crew, but now she was tied to the mast, and everyone knew she’d tried to give Lapin the slip. She knew they wouldn’t kill her, but what was she supposed to do now? Did she have any hope at all of getting away from this unscathed?

She didn’t have much time to think about it, however, as the sound of approaching footsteps quickly caught her attention. She looked up and saw Lapin sauntering towards her, having come from the forecastle deck. He was no longer wearing his drab prison clothes, now donning a considerably more fashionable outfit, complete with a high-collared red jacket. She wondered if he’d stolen it from someone back in Featherbeard, or stopped somewhere to get it before casting off. If she didn’t despise him so much at the moment, she might’ve thought he looked almost… good in it.

But right now, the idea of liking anything about him made her ill.

To her surprise—and perhaps relief—he didn’t seem in poor spirits, and as he came closer, she noticed a smile forming on his face.

“Ah, Nessa. So nice of you to join us.” He stopped not far from her, peering down at her with a pleased expression. Something told her he was tickled pink to be quite literally looking down on her. “Did you get enough beauty sleep?”

Nessa glared at him. She had slept for a long time, but she wasn’t going to forget that he had been the one to knock her out in the first place. “Hardly.”

Lapin shrugged. “A shame. I know it’s not very comfortable, but surely you understand why I had to tie you up.” He clicked his tongue. “I did tell you running wouldn’t do you any good.”

Nessa struggled slightly against her binds, but the rope didn’t loosen even a little. “I can’t lead you to the Eye if I’m like this,” she pointed out.

“Oh, I’m aware,” he said matter-of-factly. “I do intend to free you eventually. But not right now.” He grinned. “I just need to make sure you won’t get away again.”

Nessa knew it was wisest to hold her tongue, yet she couldn’t help but scoff. “Where would I go?” she challenged him. “There’s nothing but water for hundreds of miles. Am I wrong?”

“Well, technically they’re nautical miles,” Barry put in. “Since we’re at sea and—” He was cut off by the cat bopping him on the head.

Lapin frowned at Nessa. “You should really lose that attitude of yours,” he said warningly. “You seem to forget you’re at my mercy.”

Nessa could feel some of her confidence coming back. “I’m already tied up,” she retorted. “There’s not much else you can do to me.”

There was an audible sharp sound, and she felt the edge of a claw at her neck. “You sure about that?” the cat hissed. “Might wanna quit while you’re ahead, Bun-Bun.”

Lapin smirked, and for a moment, Nessa thought he was considering letting the cat hurt her, but then he waved his hand dismissively. “That won’t be necessary, Sylvie,” he said. “She’s no threat to us. She just needs to be in timeout a little longer.”

That comment, spoken so patronizingly, stoked the flame of fury inside Nessa, and she could barely contain it anymore. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “I get you want the Eye. You wanna become king. But tricking me? Kidnapping me? Why not just hire someone who can read Serpentese?”

Lapin sighed. “I already told you, it’s a rare skill,” he answered flatly. “It would’ve taken me ages to find someone like that, let alone someone who would come along willingly. Besides, why even consider it when a linguist—from the Royal Adventure Society, no less—just so happens to stumble into my lap?” He laughed. “I would’ve been a fool to pass up an opportunity like that.”

Nessa looked down, shaking her head. It was her fault for letting her guard down with him, for thinking even for a second that he might honor any sort of deal she made with him. It was her own fault that she was leagues away from home, and she had no idea when, or if, she would be getting back.

Lapin was a villain, plain and simple, but she was an idiot. And now she was paying the price for her foolishness.

Lapin knelt down in front of her just then, propping up her chin with one finger. “What, cat got your tongue?” he mocked. “I didn’t even ask Sylvie to do anything.”

Nessa looked him right in the eyes, hate in her heart, and spit in his face.

Lapin got up immediately, wiping his cheek with a furious growl. “You—” he started to snarl, but seemed unable to put his anger to words.

The other animals gaped, and Sylvie let out a hiss, unsheathing her claws. Nessa ignored them all. She knew she shouldn’t have done it, but at that moment, she couldn’t care less.

Lapin looked like a volcano about to erupt, and Nessa prepared resolutely for whatever was coming next. He inhaled sharply through his nose, drying his hand on the side of his jacket. “Keep her there,” he ordered his crew. “No one talks to her or touches her. And she gets no food or water.”

The animals exchanged glances with one another, and a brief moment of silence passed between them before Sylvie spoke. “Whatever you say, boss,” she said with a shrug before walking away. The other crew members soon followed her example, heading off in different directions and leaving Nessa alone with Lapin.

The silver hare glowered down at her. “Let’s see how long you can go without sustenance,” he said venomously. “You’ll need something from me sooner than you think. In the meantime, maybe you can learn some manners. ”

Then he turned and strode away.

^ ^ ^

For the rest of the day, Nessa remained bound to the mast, and was given no food or water, just as Lapin had commanded.

It had not been so difficult at first. It had been easy enough just sitting in silence, alone with her thoughts while the crew went about their duties throughout the day. She’d been hungry of course, and thirsty too, but not enough to make her desperate. She was content to wait longer, stubbornly determined to prove that she could suffer a little and still not be broken. As far as she knew, they were all sailing aimlessly right now; before long, Lapin would grow restless, and have to untie her so she could give him directions. It was only a matter of time.

As the sun began to set, however, Nessa found herself with far less strength than she’d had that morning. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, and her head throbbed. Her throat was painfully dry without any water, and the ever-constant rocking of the ship was gradually making her sick.

Sylvie, who hadn’t spoken a word to her all day, called out to the others just then to announce dinnertime, and Nessa’s treacherous belly growled. The cat’s blue eyes flickered towards her, and Sylvie smirked to herself, but still did not acknowledge Nessa.

“There’s not that much food, so you’re just gonna have to share,” the cat informed her companions. “Got some dried meat and fish. And greens, for the big boys.”

The two bulls looked at each other happily.

Greens. Nessa swallowed. The salad she’d eaten for dinner last night was nothing more than a distant memory.

“Alright, Lenny,” Sylvie barked. “Go get started on the food. You’re on kitchen duty tonight.”

“O-Okay. Sure thing, Sylvie.”

Nessa lifted her head, watching one of the bulls—Lenny, apparently—shuffle across the deck and head down the stairs to what was presumably the kitchen. She scanned the deck for any sign of Lapin. She didn’t see him anywhere, and guessed that he was eating privately in the captain’s quarters. He certainly didn’t seem like the type to share meals with others.

She wondered what he was eating in there, and if he was ever going to come out. Had he planned to come back and check on her at some point? Or was he waiting for her to make the first move, to admit she’d been wrong and beg her captors to let her go?

Unfortunately, knowing him, it was probably the latter. Even if he was growing impatient about the directions to the Eye, something told her that his pride would keep him from coming forward first. As much as that aggravated her, was she willing to go the rest of the night without anything to eat or drink, just to see how long Lapin would wait? Was it worth weakening herself even more?

As the smell of cooking vegetables wafted up from below deck, and her mouth began to water hopelessly, she decided it was not. She hated Lapin, and she wanted to get away from him by any means necessary, but she had to be sensible about this.

She could play along for a little while and still find a way to thwart him. It didn’t even matter if he could see through her; as long as he needed her as his guide, she had some power over him.

Remembering that was enough to give her some newfound strength.

It was not long before Lenny came back up the stairs, carrying a pot in his massive hands, steam pouring out from under the lid. He ambled past Nessa towards the back of the ship—to Lapin's cabin, she guessed—and the powerful aroma of what smelled like vegetable soup hit her nose head-on. It was at that moment that her fragile restraint broke.

“Hey,” she called out hoarsely. Sylvie, standing by the rail, turned ever so slightly at the sound of her voice. “Tell Lapin I’m ready to speak with him.”

The cat hesitated, but after a heartbeat, the corner of her lip curled up into a curious smile. “That so?” she said, almost delightedly. She snickered as she sauntered over. “Finally feeling sorry for yourself, Bun-Bun? Can’t be fun going all day without food or water.”

It wasn’t hard to see why Lapin and Sylvie had been allies for so long; they were like two insufferable birds of a feather. “Just take me to him,” was all Nessa said in response.

“Hmmm.” Sylvie studied her claws, feigning thought. “I dunno. You sure you’re ready to behave? One slip-up, and you’re right back here. Or maybe somewhere worse, if you really piss off Lapin.” She looked almost enthralled by the idea.

Nessa bit the inside of her cheek. She hated everything about this, but what other choice did she have? “I’m not gonna piss him off again,” she said quietly. And she meant it; at least, she wouldn’t piss him off again directly. “And… I’m not gonna fight back. It’s pointless. So let’s just get this over with.”

Sylvie was silent, considering Nessa’s words, pale eyes bright. Nessa couldn’t help but wonder what was going through the cat’s head. Did Sylvie think she was lying? Or was she simply enjoying seeing Nessa seemingly give up?

She reached for her knife, swiftly removing it from its sheath, and a chill rippled through Nessa. But then Sylvie laughed, and brought the edge of her blade to the rope keeping Nessa in place. “Alright, princess,” she said. “Let’s hear what Lapin has to say.”

Chapter Text

It took only a few seconds for Sylvie to cut Nessa free from the mast. As the rope fell, and Nessa got to her feet a bit shakily, she found the knife pointed towards her. Sylvie gave her a wry smile. “This way,” she said, leading Nessa across the deck towards the captain’s quarters. She kept her blade pointed at Nessa’s side all the way.

Sylvie stopped at the door, taking a step back when it opened and Lenny came out, carrying the same pot. He let the door close behind him, then Sylvie reached out to rap it three times. A moment later, an irritated voice came from inside.

“What now?"

“It's Sylvie,” the cat called in. "Bun-Bun's had a change of heart."

There was a pause, then Lapin gave his response, sounding significantly more agreeable. “Well, then, send her in already.”

Sylvie withdrew her knife. “Good luck, Buns,” she said breezily, then left without another word.

Nessa hesitated, but not for long. Having no choice, she turned the knob with a deep breath and opened the door.

Lapin’s cabin was dim, lit mainly by a few lanterns strung up here and there on the ceiling, and one on the desk in one corner of the room. There was a sizable bed by the back windows, and a large, candlelit table in the center of the cabin, where Lapin himself was seated. The hare looked over at her as she entered, smiling with a satisfaction she could see even from all the way across the room.

“Nessa,” he said, in a manner that was neither displeased nor friendly. “About time. Take a seat, won’t you?”

Nessa crossed the room carefully, keeping her balance as the ship swayed. As she drew closer, she realized there were two bowls on the table: one in front of Lapin, one in front of an empty chair—presumably meant for her. The bowls appeared to be filled with the vegetable soup Lenny had brought up—still hot, with just a little steam rising from them—and in her current state, she swore she had never smelled something so divine.

Her parched mouth filled with saliva. She wanted to barrel over the table and drink her entire bowl down, but she didn’t dare show such weakness. She kept up her calculated pace, and did not waver when he made eye contact with her.

Lapin smirked. “Hungry?” he asked. “I bet you are. By all means, eat.” He gestured to the bowl not in front of him.

Nessa reached the empty chair, tentatively sitting down in it. The aroma of the soup was unbearably strong now, tickling her nose, but as much as it pained her, she still did not start eating. “What is it?”

Lapin snorted. “Soup,” he said simply. “Vegetable soup. What, do you think it’s poisoned? You might have angered me, but I’m still in need of you.”

Of course she knew that. “So,” she said slowly, “are you no longer angry, then?”

She wasn’t sure why she was bothering to ask; she certainly wasn’t apologetic, but it was unsettling to see him calm now, when he had been so infuriated by her not long ago.

Lapin held her gaze steadily. “Since it seems you’ve come to your senses, I’ve decided to move past your little… display earlier.” He gripped his spoon in his fist, his tone hardening as he spoke again. “Now. Eat. ”

Nessa stiffened a bit, looking down at her soup. Despite his front, he was clearly still holding onto some of his anger from earlier, but even so, she knew he would not hurt her. He would not poison her, and—in spite of his threats—he would not let her starve.

Unable to hold back any longer, she picked up her spoon and began to eat. The moment the soup hit her tongue, she felt her starved body practically cry out with relief, strength flooding back to her with every new sip she took. At the same time, Lapin drank his own soup, glancing at her frequently throughout the meal. He knew she had given in, and no doubt it delighted him to see her eat so fervently, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

To her surprise, Lapin waited until she had finished her soup and had nearly all the water in her glass to speak again. He wiped his mouth with his napkin, then cleared his throat. “Good?” he asked, noting the dregs at the bottom of her bowl.

Nessa drank from her glass and swallowed. Feeling newly revitalized, her stomach full, she decided to show at least a little gratitude. “It was,” she said evenly. After a heartbeat, she mumbled, “Thank you.”

He grinned. “Wonderful,” he said. “It can always be like this, you know. A nice, warm meal. Easy conversation. As long as you cooperate, why, it can be just like we’re friends. ”

Nessa grimaced. Despite its pleasant fullness, her stomach still turned at his words. “We’re not friends,” she said before she could think twice about it. “And there is nothing nice or easy about any of this.”

Lapin curled his lip. “Back to being difficult, are you?” he said darkly. “After showing you my hospitality?”

She knew it wasn’t wise, but she couldn’t resist shooting back. “Oh, yes, you’ve been very hospitable,” she retorted. “Kidnapping me and tying me to a mast. You’re a fantastic host.”

He growled low, slamming his palm down onto the table. “Oh, quit the dramatics already,” he spat. “Do you want to be back out there? Tied up? Starving? Or would you rather be in here, eating with me, who expects nothing from you but a normal conversation? ”

She nearly scoffed. That was hardly all he wanted from her. “I’d rather be back home,” she snapped. “Anywhere but here.”

Lapin’s smile was poisonous. “Well, you’re not going home, pigeon,” he said derisively. “Not until you get me to the Eye.”

Nessa glared at him. “What do you even want with it?” she questioned, even though she already knew the answer.

He laughed. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said, throwing his hands up. “I can use it to get my throne back. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

There was nothing surprising about that at all. Nessa fisted her hands in her lap, looking down at them. “If I help you get the Eye,” she said, “you’ll take me back home?”

“ When you help me get the Eye,” he replied, “we’ll all go back home. I’ll take back what’s rightfully mine, then you can return to your little family or… whatever it is you have. I’ll be king anyway, so it won’t matter what you do.” He studied his spoon thoughtfully. “I may very well find myself in need of your services again… but when I do, I’m sure I’ll know where to find you. In fact”—he chuckled—“perhaps I’ll make my own Adventure Society. Then I’ll definitely need a linguist or two.”

Nessa’s blood chilled. She couldn’t imagine working for him any more than she had to, let alone for the rest of her life. There was no telling what else Lapin would do once he became king. Would he imprison the old members of the Society, or worse, have them executed? Would he attempt to conquer countries other than Featherbeard, and thrust the kingdom into war?

There was a reason his father had denied him the throne and given it to Peter instead; the old king had likely sensed the darkness in his oldest son, and tried to spare Featherbeard from it. Had Lapin done something back then, before he had even fought his brother for the crown? Something bad enough to make his own father fear his potential?

Whatever the case, she knew one thing for certain: she could not let him become king. She couldn’t escape him, at least not now, but she could try and lead him astray. With no combat skills, and no one to help her, all she had was her wit.

She could read the Journal, and he couldn’t. That was her one advantage over him.

Nessa released the breath she had been holding in. “Fine, then,” she murmured. “I take it you need something from me tonight. Right? Since you made an effort to… prepare all this.”

Lapin let out a chuckle. “Believe it or not, my dear, I don’t need anything tonight,” he answered. “We’re headed to Senna, and we should arrive in the morning. Once we’ve stocked up on supplies, and picked up an old friend of mine, then I will need your assistance getting to the Eye.” His usual smirk played on his lips. “This little meal was hardly a gesture. Just a private conversation to get on the same page… and establish some rules, of course.”

Nessa folded her arms. “And what rules are those?”

“I was just getting to them,” he said. “You’ll be sleeping with the others below deck, for one. Sylvie is a light sleeper, so I wouldn’t advise trying to escape in the middle of the night. And in any case, someone will be keeping watch outside every night. There’s very little you’ll be able to do on this ship without my knowledge.”

Nessa said nothing. The idea of escaping the ship had admittedly crossed her mind before, but she was no longer considering it seriously. It would be idiotic to think she had a real chance.

“You will remain where someone can see you at all times,” he continued. “I will not restrain you, since I need your hands, and if you behave, I won’t need to do so at all for the rest of our journey. That means no spitting, no back-talk, no more trying to run from me. Obviously. ” He smiled, dripping with condescension. “Have I made myself clear?”

Nessa wanted to punch him. “Crystal.”

“Good.” Lapin drummed his claws along the edge of the table. “You will share your meals with everyone else, unless I need to speak with you privately,” he went on. “Whatever supplies you need will be picked up tomorrow in Senna. Though I doubt you’ll need much.”

Nessa ignored that last comment. “Will I be able to bathe at some point?” she asked. “Or shower?”

Lapin shrugged. “There is one bath on the ship,” he responded, “and it’s mine.” He leaned his head on one hand, thinking as he observed her. “Perhaps if you do well enough for me… I’ll allow you to use it.”

Nessa looked away from him, her fur prickling with discomfort. She regretted asking. “Alright,” was all she said. She was not going to say “Thank you.”

Lapin thought for a moment. “Ah yes… the Journal, ” he said, remembering. “It stays with me at all times. I’ll allow you to look at it only when we’re together.”

“I haven’t had a chance to look at it at all,” Nessa pointed out. “Or study it properly, for that matter.”

“Which is exactly what we’ll be doing together, ” he returned nonchalantly. “I’m putting my trust in you, dear. You’ll just have to put your trust in me as well—however hard that may be for you.”

Nessa wanted to laugh. What about him could she possibly trust? But instead, she merely nodded, looking down into her empty soup bowl. “Fine.”

She was still the only one between the two of them who could read Serpentese. The arrangement changed very little about her budding plan.

She could see Lapin watching her from the corner of her eye. “Any other questions?” he drawled.

Nessa had many and yet none at all, suspecting she knew the answers to all of them already. “No,” she said at last, getting up from the chair. “I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

“Already?” he asked. “It’s quite early.”

Is it? she almost asked, but ultimately did not; a quick glance at the clock on the wall told her it was eight. Even if it was early, she didn’t want to be around Lapin or any of his pirates a minute longer. She wanted to be alone, at least for a little while, and try to get some rest while she still had the chance. “It’s fine,” she said with some dryness. “In fact, I think I’m starting to feel a little sick.”

With everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, it wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Poor thing,” Lapin said, pursing his lip a bit. “Must be a little seasick. It takes some getting used to.” He waved his hand. “Very well then, go rest up. Big day tomorrow.”

Nessa took one last sip of water from her glass before walking away from the table. “Will the kitchen be open to me?” she asked.

“Mm—no,” he replied. “Too many knives. Don’t want you getting any ideas.”

Back turned to him, she rolled her eyes. “What if I want some water?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Have the duck get some for you. He’ll do it.”

The duck—Barry. Surprisingly, Nessa figured he would do it if asked. Maybe he could even fetch her other things from the kitchen. Not a terrible solution.

She made her way towards the door, eager to leave the stifling cabin and the equally stifling man it belonged to. Before she reached to open it, however, she paused, feeling his eyes on her.  “Thank you again for the meal,” she said in a low voice.

She couldn’t see him, but she knew he was grinning. “You’re welcome,” he responded, smooth as honey. A heartbeat passed, then he said, “Oh—Nessa.”

She halted at the door, puzzled. What did he want now? “Yes?”

“Do you have a partner back in Featherbeard?”

What? Nessa turned to face him. “A partner?” she echoed.

“Boyfriend, girlfriend,” Lapin elaborated, leaning back lazily in his chair. “Someone who would… come looking for you.”

His question baffled her more than anything else he’d asked her that night. Why would he want to know something like that? Was he worried someone would come looking for her? That didn’t seem like him.

Now that she thought about it, was anyone going to? She was sure King Peter knew his brother had escaped by now, but would he know she was gone as well? Would he send a search party for her? Would her brothers and sisters try to set out after her? If anyone was going to look for her, it would be them.

But for their sake, she hoped they didn’t. There was no way they would be able to find her, and if they somehow did…

Nessa shifted, looking away from him. “No,” she finally answered. “I don’t have a partner.”

“Hm.” Lapin clicked his tongue once. “I see,” he said. For several seconds, there was silence between them, and Nessa wondered what he could possibly be thinking about. Then, as if nothing had happened, he spoke again. “Well, then. Get some rest. We’ll have much to do tomorrow.”

Nessa turned the knob, not bothering to look back at him. “Goodnight,” she said, the word tasting strange in her mouth. It felt unnatural to say something so casual to someone she so deeply hated. But what else was she supposed to say? “Sweet dreams”? “I hope you die in your sleep”?

Just before she closed the cabin door behind her, she heard him reply, “Goodnight, pigeon.”

Chapter Text

Nessa was still. Unmoving. Floating.

She could see nothing, hear nothing. It was dark all around her, and all she could feel was the lightest of sensations all over her body, like water caressing her fur. She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but she found there was no air in her lungs, and she was suddenly fighting to breathe.

She struggled in her watery prison, shifting just enough to flip over onto her back. She stared up, searching for a light, a way out of this darkness, but all she could see above her was a single, massive eye, glowing sickly green with one slitted pupil. It did not blink.

She tried to scream, but mouth filled with water, and whispers began to worm their way in through her ears. The soft voices grew louder and louder by the second; whether they were coaxing or taunting her, she could not tell.

Nessa…

Nessa…

Princess…

“Hey, princess. Wake up.”

Nessa jerked awake, nearly tumbling off of her hammock. Her heart was still pounding, her body uncomfortably hot, and it took her a moment to realize that she was awake, in the room below deck, surrounded by the rest of Lapin’s animals. Sylvie stood beside her hammock, peering down at Nessa with her hands on her hips.

“Bad dream, huh?” she asked with a laugh.

Nessa clutched her forehead, the image of the unblinking eye beginning to fade from her mind. “Yeah,” she murmured.

“Well, lucky for you, it’s time to get up,” Sylvie said. “We just docked at Senna.”

Senna. The bustling city south of Featherbeard. Lapin had said they’d arrive by morning.

Nessa propped herself up, tossing aside the ratty blanket she’d been given. In all honesty, she’d slept terribly, but at least she’d slept, and without having been tied to a mast. She winced, remembering she was still wearing the same clothes from the last couple days. She longed for a bath, but more than that, something clean to wear.

Her stomach rumbled. “Is there food?”

“You can get something in town,” Sylvie answered indifferently. “Let’s go. Lapin’s waiting upstairs.”

Nessa climbed down from her hammock, careful not to stumble when she hit the floor; she’d never slept in a hammock before, and she was far from used to it. The rest of the crew clambered up the stairs, with Sylvie waiting at the bottom while Nessa slipped on her cardigan.

Nessa frowned at the cat. “Do you really need to watch me?”

Sylvie shrugged. “Lapin’s orders.”

Nessa decided not to argue. Sylvie gestured for her to go first up the stairs, and together the two went up to the deck, joining the other animals.

Nessa shielded her eyes from the sudden brightness of the sun, giving them a heartbeat to adjust before looking around. The ship was indeed anchored in the port of Senna, its tall, whitestone towers illuminated by the morning light. Past the docks, the city was alive with activity, animals moving from building to building, talking and laughing. There was a large marketplace with colorful stands and equally colorful vendors, and she could smell a multitude of scents coming from that area. Her stomach growled again.

Lapin’s voice brought her focus back. “Listen up,” the hare announced from where he stood by the mast. “Now that we’re here, we’ll be splitting up the group. Lenny, Toro, you’ll be coming with me to find Luther. He shouldn’t be far, but I don’t intend to stay here long, and we still need to get supplies. We’ll get more done if we all move separately.”

Luther. That must be the “old friend” Lapin had mentioned the night before, Nessa reasoned. She wondered what kind of animal he was—and, more pressingly, how dangerous he was. Lapin and Sylvie were bad enough, but was Luther the same kind of ruthless criminal they were?

“Barry, you’ll fly overhead. Scout for trouble.”

Barry’s wing shot up in a salute. “You’ve got it, boss!”

“And Sylvie,” Lapin turned towards the cat. “You’re in charge of our little navigator. Take her around the market and get her what she needs. But only what’s necessary. Understood?”

Sylvie nodded, and Nessa kept quiet. Shit. She’d figured Sylvie would be keeping an eye on her—all day, even—but she hadn’t expected the cat to be the only one with her. With Sylvie watching her exclusively, it truly would be impossible to try and get away, even if the opportunity arose.

Lapin had made sure of that.

“Everyone will meet back at the ship at noon,” the hare ordered. “If anyone is late, or doesn’t show up, there will be consequences. ” He eyed Nessa, giving her a menacing smile. “Any questions? ”

The animals glanced at one another, shrugging. Nessa still said nothing, holding Lapin’s gaze with a steely one of her own.

“Then GO! ”

The crew members took off at once. Barry launched himself into the sky, sailing away over the city, and Sylvie motioned for Nessa to follow her. “Come on, Bun-Bun. Let’s get going.”

Nessa had no choice but to join her as they disembarked, casting only a brief glance over her shoulder at Lapin as he left the ship with the bull brothers. “Why does he need both of them?” she asked without much thought.

“He doesn’t,” Sylvie replied, guiding them both up the dock towards the market. “Not for protection, anyway. He needs their help carrying shit. Plus, they’re just too dumb to be on their own.”

Nessa nearly chuckled at that, but caught herself. She wasn’t about to get friendly with her captor—or more like babysitter, as of that day. “Who’s Luther?” she decided to ask instead.

“Talkative today,” Sylvie remarked. “He’s a gorilla. He and Lapin go way back.”

A gorilla. Nessa suppressed a shiver. If she hadn’t been worried before, she definitely was now. Bulls were strong—but gorillas were strong, fast, and intelligent. She doubted this one was any different. “What’s he like?”

Sylvie laughed. “What, you scared?”

Nessa didn’t look at her. “Am I not allowed to ask?”

She snorted. “He’s a nasty guy, from what I’ve heard,” she responded. “Way more of a killer than Lapin. Or me. You’ll get to know him soon enough.”

Dread settled heavily in Nessa’s belly. More of a killer than either of them. That was bad. Incredibly bad.

“Why wasn’t he in prison?” she asked the cat warily.

“They were friends a long time ago,” Sylvie said. “He and Lapin. Luther split before Lapin went up against his brother. Before me. There was no falling out. He just wanted to go his own way.”

So Luther hadn’t been a part of Lapin’s plans to take over. “You think he’ll join Lapin now?” she asked. “It’s… been a long time.”

“Oh, he will, all right,” the cat said without hesitation. “Guy like that’s been sitting on his ass for years. He’ll be begging to join us. I bet he hasn’t had a real day of fun since he left.”

Fun. Nessa had no intention of asking what a day of fun was like for Luther. As they entered the city, approaching the marketplace, she chose to keep silent until another question crossed her mind. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

The cat gave a shrug of her shoulders. “‘Cause it doesn’t matter.”

Nessa kept her eyes ahead. I guess it doesn’t.

“Alright,” Sylvie said, halting just outside the throng of market goers. “Let’s make this quick. What do you need, anyway?"

Nessa thought for a moment. There were plenty of things she could ask for, but she had to be practical; there was a chance she could ask for too much, and that could land her in hot water with Lapin. “What’s the budget?”

Sylvie stared at her for a second, then threw her head back and laughed. “Budget?” she repeated. “Yeah, of course you’d ask something like that. Miss Royal Adventure Society. I bet you’re used to the fancy stuff.”

Nessa glared at her. “That’s not why I’m asking,” she said sharply. “I just want to know how much money we have.”

“Not much,” the cat said bluntly. “We’ll see how much it gets us, then if we need something else, we’ll just steal it.”

Nessa didn’t like how casually she spoke about stealing—and she especially didn’t care for the “we” part of Sylvie’s statement.“It’s—it’s fine. There’s no need for that,” she said, keeping her voice down. “Let’s just… take a look around. I just want some clean clothes. And maybe a couple other things.” At that moment, the smell of something distractingly delicious flowed into her nostrils, and she remembered how hungry she was. “Actually, can we… get something to eat first?”

Sylvie looked surprisingly unopposed to the idea. “Yeah, I could eat,” she said. “Bet they have some smoked fish. Shit, I could go for some of that right now.”

She allowed Nessa to take the lead, sticking close by as the two of them pushed through the crowd of animals deeper into the marketplace. Nessa followed the alluring scent all the way to a food stand, where an elderly tortoise was roasting cubes of vegetables on skewers. He looked up upon their arrival, beaming. “Well, hello there, ladies!” he greeted them. “Hungry?”

Nessa smiled back at him. After the ordeal of the last two days, seeing a genuinely kind face lifted her spirits just a bit. “Yes, sir.”

Sylvie wrinkled her nose at the vegetables. “Got any meat here?”

“Not the kind you're thinking of, I bet,” he answered. “Just greens and mealworms, fresh from the grill!” He chuckled.

Sylvie rolled her eyes. “You want one of these, Buns?”

Nessa looked over at her. “I-I mean—yeah. Sure.”

The cat stuffed a hand into her pocket, pulling out a couple of coins and tossing them to the tortoise. “One of the greeny thingies for Miss Bunny,” she said dryly.

“Comin’ right up!” The vendor tucked away the coins, then reached for one of the skewers, handing it to Nessa. “Thank you very much, ladies.”

Nessa took the skewer from him and opened her mouth to thank him, but Sylvie was already tugging her away. “Let’s go,” the cat urged. “You can eat while you walk.”

Nessa glanced back at the tortoise as they walked away, heart tightening. Would he have tried to help her get out of this whole mess, if he’d been able to? He seemed like a nice man. He reminded her a little of Abe, the servant of Peter’s young ward, Chickenhare—but far less snarky.

She wondered what they were all doing now. Was Chickenhare still practicing for Society tryouts? Was Peter planning some kind of rescue mission? Had he or any of the other Society members left Featherbeard at all yet?

She took a bite of her food before the thought of home could make her lose her appetite.

Within minutes, they found a stall selling smoked fish, and Sylvie was quick to buy herself a skewer of her own. The two of them found a slightly less crowded area of the market, then stood to one side to eat.

Nessa was quiet as she ate, as was Sylvie. Despite her discomfort at being alone with the cat, in such an overstimulating environment, the savory vegetables warmed her body and gave her strength. When it was all gone and she had disposed of the stick in a nearby trash bin, she felt at least a little more prepared to face the day. “Thank you,” she said, her voice low. “For the food.”

Sylvie tore off a large hunk of fish, swallowing it down noisily. “Yeah, whatever,” she said, not looking at Nessa. “You had to eat.”

Nessa studied her hands. If she was being honest, this wasn’t going as uncomfortably as she’d imagined. She had been told things would be easier if she cooperated, and she was cooperating, but still—only yesterday Sylvie’s claws had been at her throat, and now that same cat was eating beside her, hardly paying attention to her.

“I… thought you hated me,” she said without thinking.

Sylvie gave a snort. “Hate’s a strong word,” she muttered. “Yeah, I find you annoying, and I got pissed when you spit on Lapin, but you’re not a threat. I know you can’t fight. And you’re not going anywhere, so why would I worry about you like that?”

Nessa was silent. Sylvie was right; it stung a bit, but it was true that she wasn’t a threat to any of them. Not physically, anyway.

“Plus, we’re on the same crew now. Lapin’ll kill me if I don’t watch your back. Since you're taking us to the Eye and all.” Sylvie slurped down her last bite of fish, then threw the stick over her shoulder. “Anyway, that’s enough chit chat. Let’s get you that other crap and get back to the ship.”

Nessa wasn’t eager to return to the ship in the slightest, but nevertheless, she joined Sylvie and together they reentered the ocean of market-going citizens.

There was no shortage of clothing stalls in the marketplace, and Nessa was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of options. After giving it some thought, however, she set her sights on the ones with the lowest prices. The quality of the clothes perhaps wouldn’t be as good as others, but she was determined to stay within their budget and not give Sylvie any reason to steal.

She decided that, at the very least, she needed some toiletries, simple clothes to sleep in, a coat for potentially cold weather, and an outfit separate from the one she was currently wearing. The two of them went about acquiring the items, traveling all over the marketplace to visit different stalls. Sylvie tried to insist she didn’t need night clothes and could just sleep in her underwear, and argued against several of the toiletries. But Nessa put her foot down, and they ended up buying everything after all. By the time the sun had almost reached its highest point, they had one full bag and a nearly-empty sack of coins.

Sylvie peered up at the sky. “It’s about to be noon,” she observed. “We should get back to the ship. I say you have more than enough.”

Given her situation, it was the barest of minimums for Nessa, but it was better than nothing. “Alright,” she agreed. “What’ll happen if we’re not back by noon?”

Sylvie sighed. “ Consequences. Which could mean anything.”

Nessa was familiar with at least one of Lapin’s methods of punishment, and she was not interested in learning another. She’d tried defiance already, and it hadn’t done her any good. She was playing the game differently now.

Besides, with Luther as a new member of the crew, things around the ship could very well take a turn for the worst. Who knew how Lapin’s attitude would shift with another deadly ally to enforce his will.

Nessa and Sylvie wove through the market side-by-side, heading back to the docks. Nessa noted Sylvie’s body language; she was moving fast, clearly eager to get back to the ship as soon as possible, but she was considerably relaxed, not fidgeting with her knife as she often did. She had not threatened Nessa with her blade or claws once that morning; maybe, Nessa thought, the cat was starting to trust her after all. At the very least, it was as she’d said—she didn’t consider Nessa a threat.

If they were going to get along with each other, perhaps that was enough for now.

As they passed the stalls, something caught Nessa’s eye unexpectedly, and she slowed down. Turning, she caught sight of a stall selling crystals in all kinds of shapes, sizes and colors. She noticed a small, purple crystal hanging among them, and a jolt of dismay struck her heart. It looked just like the one her mother had given her.

The one Lapin had used to escape his cell, and left behind in the dungeons.

With so much on her mind, she’d hardly thought about it since the other night, but when she reached for her chest now, it felt so bare without her necklace resting there.

“What are you doing?”

Nessa blinked back to reality as Sylvie came up to her. “Why’d you stop?” the cat questioned. “Something wrong?”

Nessa said nothing for a heartbeat, trying to reel herself back in. She shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “It’s nothing.”

“Alright, well, we’ve gotta go. C’mon.”

Nessa forced herself to look away from the stall of crystals, quickening her pace to keep up with Sylvie. The crowd thickened the closer they got to the market entrance, and they had to squeeze and slide uncomfortably past animals to get through. Nessa saw a weasel bump into Sylvie, giving her a quick “Sorry” before pushing further into the throng, and was about to forget about him completely when she spotted the tiny brown sack in his clawed fingers.

Their coin sack. He’d pilfered it from her in the blink of an eye.

“Sylvie!” she called out. “The sack! He’s got the sack!”

As if she had sensed it, Sylvie had already whipped around, lips peeled back into a snarl. She shoved the bag of items into Nessa’s hands, then unsheathed her claws and charged after the weasel. “Oh, you are dead! ” she spat. In seconds, she had caught up with the thief and pinned him to the ground, claws at his throat. “ Drop it. ”

The weasel stared up at her, bug-eyed with fear, and relinquished the sack in an instant. Abruptly, recognition flashed in his expression. “Wait, y-you’re—you’re Sylvie, aren’t you?” he stammered. “The—the cat that almost murdered the king of Featherbeard.”

All around Nessa, animals began to stop and watch the scene before them, looks of bewilderment on their faces. “Murdered the king of Featherbeard?” an antelope whispered to his friend.

“He wasn’t murdered. He almost was.”

“I thought the king’s brother tried to do it.”

“Yeah, he did, but he had accomplices. That cat must’ve been one of ‘em.”

“I thought they were all in prison.”

Nessa was frozen, unable to move or speak as she gripped the bag tighter. She hadn’t considered the possibility of Lapin’s crew being recognized, and perhaps Lapin himself hadn’t, either. Senna was not a part of Featherbeard, and therefore outside of Peter’s jurisdiction; they could not arrest Sylvie here without investigation, but they could certainly report her, and the rest of the crew, to the authorities. Sylvie was still holding the weasel down, but she had noticed the onlookers, and had her back turned to Nessa, distracted.

Nessa’s heart raced. Sylvie wasn’t looking at her. No one was looking at her, really. She hadn’t thought about it since Lapin’s warning, but now, the idea of running was returning in full force. If she slipped away now and tried to get help, would anyone notice? Could she get someplace safe? Find someone who could get a message to the Society?

If she had any chance to get away, this was it. This was the last one she was going to get. She had to move. Now.

But somehow, for whatever reason, she could not. She remained in place, hesitating just long enough for Sylvie to return to her side and grab her by the wrist.

“We’ve gotta go,” the cat hissed. “Now.”

Chapter Text

Few animals tried to stop them on their way back to the ship, and Nessa couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or a curse.

Why hadn’t she run just then? She would’ve only had a few seconds to do so, but that was all she’d needed. She could have taken that one chance to get away, flee into the crowd before Sylvie could grab her, but she hadn’t, and now she was being hauled away once more like the prisoner she was.

But if she’d tried, would she have really even succeeded?

At the docks, Nessa saw that the rest of the crew was already on board the ship; Barry perched on the rail, the bull brothers rolling barrels across the deck, and Lapin talking to the hulking, unmistakable shape of a silverback gorilla. Nessa could feel her throat drying up.

Luther. He was here. Had he already joined the crew? Just like that?

Sylvie yanked her forward all of a sudden, ensuring Nessa went first up the gangway. Once Nessa had been more or less forced to one side, bag in hand, Sylvie rushed to Lapin. “We have to go,” she said, catching her breath. “Someone in town recognized me.”

Lapin jerked his head towards her, fury in his eyes. “ What? ” he snarled. “Did the police see you?”

“No. We got outta there before they could call anyone.”

The hare let out a frustrated growl. “Imbecile,” he muttered. “You were supposed to lie low. ” He snapped his fingers. “Lenny! Hoist the sails! Toro, get the wheel and get us out of here!”

The bulls, hearing his order, hurried to their assigned positions and got to work.

Lapin pointed to the duck. “Barry! Watch our tail. Make sure no one follows.”

“Aye-aye, captain!” Barry chirruped, leaping over the edge of the rail and taking flight.

Lapin pinched his nose irritably, then sighed and put his hands behind his back. “Still on schedule,” he mumbled, mostly himself. He eyed Nessa, noticing the bag of items she carried. “I see you have what you need.”

Nessa held onto the bag a little tighter. She couldn’t risk anyone taking her things away from her. “Yes.”

“Then Sylvie did not completely fail,” he said coldly.

Sylvie’s ears flattened back with shame. “I’m sorry, sir. This thief stole from me, and when I caught him, he—he recognized me. If he hadn’t made such a fuss, we wouldn’t have—”

“ Stole from you?” Lapin barked out a laugh. “You’re the best thief I know, Sylvie. How could you let that happen?”

Sylvie’s hand curled into a fist at her side, but she gave no reply. She lowered her head. “It was a mistake, sir. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Unexpectedly, Nessa felt the slightest twinge of sympathy for the cat. It was true that the weasel had caught Sylvie off-guard, and she’d only been trying to get the money back from him, not knowing he would recognize her. Senna was considerably far from Featherbeard, after all, and it had been fourteen years since Lapin’s attempted usurpation. Nessa almost wanted to come to her defense somehow, but she couldn’t find it in herself to speak up. It was probably better to keep her mouth shut.

“Well, it’s a good thing we have a new member to pick up the slack around here,” Lapin said, his irked tone shifting to a pleased one. He grinned at the gorilla beside him. “Glad to have you back, Luther.”

Nessa instinctively held her breath when Luther took a step forward. The gorilla truly was massive, especially standing upright like he was now. He had to be three times the size of Lapin, towering over the hare, and had thick, beefy arms and broad shoulders. He looked down at Nessa, exposing his sharp teeth when his lips drew back into a smile.

“Who’s this little lady?” he asked. “Got yourself a girlfriend, Lapin?”

Nessa felt stiflingly hot all of a sudden, appalled by the suggestion. Girlfriend? she thought furiously. Not in a million fucking years.

Lapin chuckled loudly. “Girlfriend? Goodness, no,” he answered, amused. “She’s lovely, yes, but more thorn than rose. Trust me, you’ll understand soon enough.”

Lovely? Nessa didn’t know whether to be sick or stunned. She supposed it wasn’t surprising that Lapin found her attractive, at least a little, but she hadn’t expected to hear him say so aloud; especially not after she’d tested him so thoroughly these last couple days. She remained speechless.

“She’s a linguist—from the Society, ” Lapin explained. “She, my friend, is our ticket to the Serpent’s Eye.”

Luther’s grin widened. “Must be a smart little bunny, then, huh?” he remarked, looking Nessa over. “You can read that book?”

So Lapin had already told him about the Journal . “Yes,” she replied warily.

Luther nodded thoughtfully. “So she’s valuable,” he said, turning to Lapin. “You sure they won’t want her back? Send a search party or somethin’?”

“I doubt that my brother, sentimental he is, will waste such time and energy for one linguist,” the hare said casually. “Besides, they’ll have no idea where we are. It’d be a wild goose chase.”

Luther responded with a grunt, apparently not needing any more reassurance.

Nessa looked down at the floor. The idea that King Peter wouldn’t try and come after her admittedly stung, but she knew, at least partially, that Lapin was right. The Society would know nothing about her or Lapin’s whereabouts, and even if they did figure something out, Lapin and his crew would be too far away by that point. And so would she.

In a way, she was glad there was no one coming. At least that meant no one would get hurt.

“Heard a lot about you, Kitty Cat,” Luther said to Sylvie. “Guess ya don’t quite live up to the stories, huh?” He guffawed, and though Lapin didn’t laugh with him, a small smirk formed on the hare’s lips.

Sylvie held her tongue, avoiding looking directly at the gorilla. She faced Lapin. “Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” she asked in a low voice.

“Hmm. Yes, I think Lenny could use some help swabbing the deck, or—something.” Lapin waved his hand dismissively. “Go on. Make yourself useful.”

Sylvie’s ear twitched, and Nessa was sure she saw something flash in the cat’s eyes—anger, regret, or maybe both. “Of course,” she said curtly, giving Lapin a quick nod before heading away, not sparing a glance at Nessa or anyone else as she did so.

Watching her stalk off, Nessa almost felt sorry for her. Sylvie was by no means her friend, but she was also not as terrible as she had once thought. Though then again, perhaps a little taste of her own medicine was good for Sylvie—“Kitty Cat” was nearly as patronizing as “Bun-Bun.”

“Now then.” Lapin addressed the gorilla. “Please, make yourself at home, Luther. So good to have you back.”

Luther grinned. “Sure thing, boss, ” he returned with a rumbling laugh. He gave Nessa a wink, making her fur prickle, then ambled away across the deck.

Lapin turned his attention back to Nessa, wearing a relaxed smile on his face. “Nessa. I trust you had a— pleasant day in town?”

She blinked at him, put off by how easygoing he seemed. “I suppose I did,” she said carefully, unsure how else to reply.

“Good, good.” He narrowed his eyes, though he continued smiling. “Seems like you didn’t try running this time. Otherwise Sylvie would’ve mentioned it.”

Nessa held his gaze, uncomfortable as she was. She tried to think of how to respond. Why hadn’t she run back there, even when she’d been able to? There had been nothing truly holding her back, not even her fear of Lapin.

If there was a reason for it, perhaps it was that she really had shifted her focus; taking him down her own way rather than just running from him. She was staying, and if this was going to work, she had to at least try and act compliant.

At last, she said simply, “You told me not to.”

Lapin’s expression seemed to waver slightly, as if her response had surprised him—or rather, delighted him. “That’s right, I did,” he said. “And you listened.” He tilted his head, practically admiring her. “You’re learning. Good girl.”

Nessa said nothing, feeling that same burning sensation under her fur again. She didn’t like it when he called her that. Not at all.

“Well, then,” he continued, “go ahead and get your things in order. Now that we’re all here, we can really get started.”

Nessa didn’t like the sound of that. But at least it sounded like he was giving her a little time alone. “Alright,” she said before turning on her heels, more than ready to walk away from this conversation and Lapin’s presence.

“Meet me in my cabin as soon as you’re finished,” she heard Lapin instruct. “You and I have a journal to inspect.”

^ ^ ^

Less than an hour later, after organizing her things below deck, Nessa had no choice but to go back upstairs for her meeting with Lapin.

When she returned to the deck, the sun was still high in the sky, beating down on the members of the crew that were out and about. On her way to Lapin’s cabin, she saw Barry perched on the crow’s nest overhead, seeking some shade between the sails, and Toro leaning against the mast, taking a nap while his brother steered nearby; at some point Lenny must have taken over to give Toro a break. Behind Lenny was Luther, who appeared to be keeping watch.

Nessa shivered. It would take a while for her to get used to the gorilla being around. He might not have done anything noteworthy yet, but knowing about his colorful past didn’t put her at ease—and she was sure she’d learn even more about him the more time she spent with this criminal crew.

She found herself looking for Sylvie as well, and soon found the cat sitting on the rail, her striped back turned as she peered out across the water. For some reason, Nessa thought about saying something to her. Thanking her for that morning, maybe? Apologizing for Lapin’s dismissal of her earlier?

She hesitated, considering it, but ultimately, kept moving towards Lapin’s quarters. Sylvie wouldn’t take kindly to being pitied, and she wasn’t Nessa’s friend. They’d be better off if they had nothing to do with each other.

Nessa stopped at Lapin’s door and knocked three times. “It’s me,” she called in before he could speak first.

A few heartbeats passed, then the door was opening, and Lapin revealed himself on the other side. He smiled. “Come in.”

Keeping her head down, Nessa entered the cabin, and tried not to think too hard about the door shutting behind her. This was no different than their encounter last night; she’d been alone with him just like this, and this time, they were even meeting in the middle of the day. Yet still, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Despite the time of day, the room was almost as dim as it had been the night before, with the curtains closed and only a couple of lanterns lit. Apparently Lapin liked things dark and cold; perhaps he subconsciously missed his prison cell.

Keep it together, Ness.

She did her best to clear her mind and went to stand by the desk, where a large lantern shed light on the open Journal. Lapin followed close behind her, reaching for the desk chair and pulling it out. Realizing what he wanted her to do, she took a seat hesitantly.

“Now,” he said, leaning over her, “go ahead and take a look.”

Nessa didn’t appreciate how close he was, so close she could feel the warmth coming off his fur, but she forced herself to ignore it and brought her attention to the book before her. She moved the lantern a little closer, trying to see the exposed pages better.

She’d never looked inside the Journal before, but the sketched drawings on the pages appeared simple enough to interpret. “It’s—a map. A rudimentary one, from the looks of it.”

“Clearly,” he said dryly. “But what does it say? It’s all in Serpentese.”

Nessa resisted the urge to scowl at him, instead studying the pages more closely. There were several written notes scribbled all over the map; some appeared to be random observations made by Wilder, while others seemed to be names or titles, identifying different locations on the map. She squinted, trying to make sense of what was what.

“Well?” Lapin said impatiently. “What does it say?”

This time, she did scowl at him. “Give me a second,” she said sharply. Reeling herself in, she read out loud in a softer, more even tone, “ ‘The Lord Serpent spoke to me in a dream last night. He called me to this place.’ ” She read a different note on the other side of the page, written right next to a messy sketch of an ancient structure. “ ‘Nevalaya. The Southern Temple.’ ”

Lapin stood back. “Nevalaya,” he echoed. “I—I believe I’ve heard that name somewhere. Where does it say it is?”

Nessa rolled her eyes, but kept reading. “ ‘I see a grand temple in the heart of a deep jungle. I believe it could be in Verana. The Lord Serpent did not say.’ ” She moved onto another note. “ ‘My crew and I traveled to Verana, and thank the gods, Nevalaya is here.’ ”

“Where?” Lapin pressed.

“One moment!” Nessa snapped. She cleared her throat. “ ‘Most of the locals said it was nothing but a myth, but an elderly herbalist took us aside and revealed the directions to the temple. She told us it was on the island of Maril off the coast of Verana; an island so small it was seldom recognized by anyone. In the center of that jungle, we would find the temple.’ ”

“Maril,” Lapin said. “Off the coast of Verana. That’s where it is? That’s where we’ll find the Eye?”

I would assume so, Nessa wanted to retort, but did not. She scanned the other notes scattered across the page, reading them in her head. The map expanded from the first initial sketch, providing more detailed directions to the temple Wilder spoke of. It was all very standard; small comments on landmarks, warnings about perils to be found on the journey.

Lapin tapped his foot. “Well?”

“They’re notes on how to get there. I’m just reading them.” Nessa turned the page, where the notes from the Southern Temple map bled over. There were all kinds of sketches here, most of them difficult to interpret, and she disregarded them for the time being; most likely, they were specific to things that would be found in the temple itself, and would not be important until they got there. She read the remainder of the notes quickly, skipping over less useful bits, then stopped where they came to an end at the bottom of the page.

The Southern Temple, as we have discovered, does not house the Serpent’s Eye, she read without speaking out loud. It was but the first of three trials. As the Guardian informed us, there will be two more temples—the Eastern, and the Northern. Each trial must be completed in order, and when the third is completed, at the Northern Temple, only then will we receive the Serpent’s Eye.

She lingered on that final note, her mind whirring. Three trials. Three temples. This was not the end of the journey to the Eye, but the beginning.

Nessa felt whiskers brush her cheek all of a sudden, and realized with a start that Lapin was right there, his face touching hers as he tried to lean past her to see the Journal. “Well, come on now, what does it say? ” he demanded.

She jerked away from him. “Don’t be so close to me,” she said without thinking. “I was just reading it—like you asked me to. There are lots of details in the notes.”

Lapin scoffed, drawing back ever so slightly. “Well, you should at least be able to answer my question,” he said flatly. “Does it lead to the Eye, or does it not? ”

Nessa looked at the Journal once again, and her heart beat harder in her ribcage. This was it. She knew the answer, and this was her chance to lead him astray, using the one advantage she had over him. She could lie to him, and he would never know, because only she could read Wilder’s book. She could lead him to the temple, but he wouldn’t get his precious Eye.

This wasn’t a perfect solution. There were still the matters of getting away from Lapin once she did get him to the Southern Temple, and dealing with his potential wrath before and even after he discovered the Eye wasn’t there. This would require some amount of preparation, as well as cunning and quick thinking once they all were in the temple itself. She had no idea how she was going to get out of it all alive, even if she did manage to succeed, but what other choice did she have?

He couldn’t know about the other temples. She couldn’t let him get the Eye.

“Yes,” she finally said. “The Eye is here.”

Lapin’s eyes shone. “In Verana,” he said, breathless with excitement. “That’s where it’s been, all this time. On a little island off the coast. That’s not even that far from here.” He laughed delightedly. “ Finally, it’ll be within my grasp.” He patted Nessa’s shoulder, harder than she was expecting. “Excellent work, pigeon. Keep this up, and we’ll all be home before you know it.”

Nessa stared at the pages of the book, lost in thought. Home, she thought hollowly. She would get back home, but when she did, it wouldn’t be with Lapin and his crew.

She had to make sure this worked.

Chapter Text

Lapin had set a course for Verana immediately, and in two days’ time, the crew arrived at the vast tropical island.

When the ship soon docked in the port of Tocano, Verana’s prime seaside town, Nessa was filled with equal relief and dread. The last two days had been spent fervently keeping to herself, avoiding the crew and their insufferable captain as much as possible; organizing things below deck, taking the occasional nap under someone’s supervision, even taking a shift swabbing the deck just to have something to do. She was more than eager to have something else to focus on now that they’d reached their destination; unfortunately for her, though, the task that lay ahead of her would be far more difficult than anything she’d ever done.

She had to lead Lapin to Nevalaya, the Southern Temple, and somehow keep him and the rest of the crew from learning that the Eye was not there. Her deception could cost her her life, but whatever happened, she could not let Lapin learn about the other two temples. The fate of Featherbeard depended on it.

“Luther.” Lapin’s voice roused Nessa from her trance by the rail. “Guard the ship with the others. Sylvie, Nessa, you’re with me. We’re going into town.”

Nessa gripped the strap of her satchel, then stepped back from the rail and hesitantly went to join Lapin and Sylvie. The cat gave her a quick glance before heading first down the gangway, and Nessa followed silently behind her, with Lapin disembarking last.

Sylvie had barely spoken to her since departing Senna, spending much of her time alone practicing with her knives or keeping watch up in the crow’s nest. Nessa couldn’t help but wonder if Sylvie resented her somehow for the other day, or she had simply taken Lapin’s disappointment in her to heart and decided to put her energy into working harder.

Nessa tried not to dwell on it. She had done nothing wrong, and she didn’t owe Sylvie anything. If the cat really did have a problem with her, she would make it clear.

Tocano was not as large or as bustling as Senna, but it was just as colorful, if not more so. The buildings were shorter and made of clay rather than whitestone, with stucco roofs and high perches all over town, presumably for flying residents. There were all kinds of animals walking around the marketplace, many of them birds or other winged creatures, and the wide variety of clothes, food and other goods being sold brought Nessa right back to that morning in Senna.

The spices in the air tickled her nose as the three of them drew closer to the market. Had she not eaten earlier, she would have been tempted by the stands selling roasted vegetables, but she knew Lapin had no intention of getting sidetracked anyway.

“Sylvie, ask around for directions to Maril,” Lapin ordered. “After last time, it wouldn’t be wise to let you out of my sight, but no one should recognize us here. Consider this your chance to make up for the other day.”

Once again, Nessa felt that twinge of sympathy for Sylvie, and one of disdain for Lapin. The cat hadn’t been trying to get recognized back in Senna, so she technically didn’t have anything to make up for, but regardless, Sylvie perked up her ears alertly and nodded. “Of course, sir,” she replied. “When should I report back?”

“Hmm. In thirty minutes, I think.” Lapin looked around the market with a frown. “I’d rather not stay here longer than necessary.” He waved his hand, dismissing her. “Go on. I’ll keep an eye on our little navigator.”

Sylvie nodded again and headed off in her own direction without another word, disappearing into the crowd and leaving Nessa alone with Lapin. Nessa’s fur stood on end when she felt Lapin’s hand on her arm, guiding her towards the market. “Let’s go, pigeon. We have some old coot to find.”

She was relieved when he let go of her, and held onto her satchel a little tighter as they walked side by side. She wished there was another way to get directions to the temple—one that didn’t involve questioning local elders—but in the last two days, she and Lapin together had thoroughly studied the maps of Verana; there were four islands in the archipelago, and Maril wasn’t listed among them. The island of Maril was just as much a myth as the temple itself, apparently, and if Wilder was to be believed, very few would know how to get there.

Nessa looked around the marketplace for animals of interest. Most of the buyers and sellers alike seemed to be young—too young to know about Nevalaya, perhaps. There was an elderly goat selling hats and scarves not far away, and she pointed to him. “We could ask him.”

Lapin flicked his ear. “Hmph. Alright.”

The two of them went to the stand together, and Nessa approached the vendor first. Lapin’s interrogation style wasn’t exactly productive. “Excuse me, sir,” she greeted the goat. “We’re—not from around here. I was wondering if you could tell us a little about Nevalaya?”

The goat stroked his beard and thought for a moment. “Nevalaya, huh?” he mused. “Heard that name in some old folk tales, but I dunno where it is. I’m not from here, either. Just settin’ up a stand to make some money, y’know?” He laughed.

Before Nessa could say anything, Lapin huffed. “Oh, lovely. He’s not even a local. Let’s go.” He took Nessa abruptly by her wrist, and she had no choice but to follow as he pulled her away from the stand.

She yanked her wrist from his grasp. “No need to manhandle me,” she muttered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Lapin gave her a skeptical look. “So you say,” he said coolly. “But now that we’re so close to the treasure, I wouldn’t quite put it past you to run.”

Nessa avoided his gaze. She had to run at some point, but it wasn’t going to be now. “I already told you,” she said, matching his cool tone. “You told me not to. So I won’t.”

She saw him glance at her briefly, but to her surprise, he didn’t retort, keeping his eyes ahead as they moved through the market. She hoped more than ever that he believed her.

They spent another several minutes searching the marketplace, asking a few more animals about Nevalaya. While a couple of them were locals, unlike the goat vendor, and even knew about Maril, none of them seemed to know how to get to the island, which only made Lapin more and more agitated. Nessa was eager to speed things along to save herself from his impending tantrum, and was more than happy when one of the locals pointed them in the direction of an apothecary—one belonging to an elderly fox named Rosa.

They found her stand at the edge of the market, with a hanging sign reading: Ms. Rosa’s Medicine Shop. “ This one had better know something useful,” Lapin grunted. “What a waste of time. It’s like these fools don’t know anything about their own culture! ”

Nessa ignored him, stepping up to the stand. There were shelves full of elixirs and medicine vials, and the fox woman had her back turned while organizing them. Nessa cleared her throat. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

The fox turned back around with a swish of her tail, adjusting her spectacles as she did so. Her eyes were pale green, faded with age, but they brightened when she noticed Nessa. “Ah! Hello, young bunny,” she said warmly. She looked at Lapin as well and smiled. “Oh, and a handsome hare as well. What can I do for you both?”

Lapin blinked, as if perplexed by being called “handsome,” and Nessa took advantage of his temporary silence. “Are you from here, Ms. Rosa?” she asked the fox. “From Verana, I mean.”

Rosa nodded. “Of course, my dear. I’ve lived here all my life.”

Nessa’s spirits lifted. “Then, does that mean you’re familiar with Nevalaya, the Southern Temple? And the island of Maril?”

It did not take long for the fox to understand, and she was soon nodding again. “Yes, I do know about it. Did you wish to hear the story?”

Nessa opened her mouth to speak, but Lapin was already answering. “Do you know where Maril is? ” he asked impatiently, pushing slightly in front of Nessa. “And if you don’t, do you know someone who does?”

Rosa studied him for a moment, then laughed heartily. “Interested in the lost treasure, are you?” she asked with amusement. “You must know about Francis Wilder, the tiger that came through here a century ago.”

“Yes, naturally,” Lapin snapped. “Now, do you know or not? ”

Nessa grabbed him by the arm without thinking, as if hoping it would calm him down somehow. “I’m so sorry,” she said to Rosa quickly. “He’s, um—very enthusiastic about the Serpent’s Eye. We both are.”

Lapin gave her a dirty look, but did not try to pull away from her.

Rosa chuckled; she didn’t seem offended, thankfully. “Ah, are you both explorers?” she asked, intrigued. “Young lovers on a treasure hunt?”

Nessa wanted to evaporate. A bunny and a hare traveling together—was everyone going to think they were a couple? “Um—explorers,” she replied. It wasn’t a complete lie. “We’ve come a long way looking for the Eye, and Wilder’s journal says the temple’s on that island. Do you know how we can get there?”

The fox was quiet, thinking, and Nessa could feel Lapin’s arm tensing, likely in frustration, from where she was holding it. It was a relief he hadn’t blown up by now and was actually holding his tongue. Finally, Rosa spoke. “I do,” she said, with a hint of solemnity. “My grandmother told me about Maril a long time ago; she passed the stories down to me. I’ve always wondered if anyone would ever come looking for the lost temple.”

Lapin shrugged off Nessa and brought his palms down on the stand counter. “We need those directions,” he said firmly. “What will it take for you to hand them over?”

Nessa winced at his brashness, but Rosa only laughed lightly. “Your friend is quite insistent,” she said to Nessa. “No need to worry. I’ll give you the directions—as long as you buy something from my shop.”

Lapin scowled. “What? We don’t need anything from here.”

Nessa shot him a glare, then looked back at Rosa. “That’s all?” she asked.

“That’s all,” the fox answered. “Just one thing from my shop, unless you’d like more. I have plenty of stock, as you can see.” She smiled.

That sounded like a perfectly reasonable trade, Nessa conceded. They were all about to travel deep into a jungle and face all manner of obstacles, inside and outside the temple itself. Not only was Rosa giving them the directions for almost nothing, they really could use something from her shop anyway. “I think that sounds fair,” she said, subtly elbowing Lapin. “Is there, um—anything you’d recommend, Ms. Rosa?”

The fox tapped her chin. “Well, you’ll have to go through a jungle to get to the temple.” She ran her claw along the edge of one shelf, examining the items there. “I have ointment for cuts, bug repellent, soothing cream…” She stopped when she reached one vial, then picked it up. “Ah! But you might really want something like this.” She held it out, showing it to both of them. “This is revitalizing tonic. If one of you should fall ill on your journey, or ingest some type of poison, or perhaps something else is sapping your energy quickly, this should help you recover. This might just be the most valuable thing you could buy from me.”

Nessa took the vial from her, looking it over. There was nothing particularly special about it—just an ordinary glass bottle with rather unappealing dark liquid in it. Lapin snatched it from her, wrinkling his nose at it. “How do we know it works?” he questioned the fox.

“I’ll admit, you won’t know until you have to use it,” Rosa responded. “But I assure you, I’ve been making medicines for fifty years. Ask anyone at this market and they will tell you the same. In your darkest hour, this tonic could save a life.”

Nessa considered her words. It was certainly a gamble—taking directions and medicine, neither of which they knew for sure were legitimate, from this old apothecary—but what other choice did they have? Lapin would stop at nothing to get to Nevalaya, and Rosa was the only animal here that truly seemed to know how to get there. And that revitalizing tonic, strange as it was, could very well be useful in their time of need. Perhaps they’d even need it sooner than expected.

Nessa glanced at Lapin. He looked displeased, unsurprisingly, but she silently willed him to make the right decision. For a moment, he seemed tempted to argue, but then he sighed heavily. “Fine,” he muttered. “Give me the smallest bottle you have.”

^ ^ ^

The two of them left the market to regroup with Sylvie, a tiny bottle of tonic in Nessa’s satchel and a map drawn by Rosa in Lapin’s claws. Soon after, the crew had the ship back out on the water, and that afternoon, the island of Maril came into view.

Rosa’s directions had been promising after all, leading them further east, past the other islands in the archipelago. “Behind the island of Aiyera, through a wall of mist and jagged sea stacks, you’ll find Maril,” she had written on the map—apparently in the words of her grandmother. It wasn’t until the ship had pulled up to the shore and docked in the shallows that Nessa was sure they had made it to the mythical island.

Maril was small compared to the rest of Verana’s islands, but it felt much bigger and considerably more imposing when Nessa was actually standing in the sand, looking up at the massive, leafy trees that formed the entrance to the jungle. Somewhere in there was the Southern Temple, and it would not be long before they reached it.

It wasn’t the journey there that concerned Nessa, though; it was what would happen when they were inside it.

“Everyone off,” Lapin ordered the disembarking crew members. “Lenny, Toro, careful with those supplies. We’re not wasting any time here; if we start now, we’ll be at the temple by tomorrow night.” He snapped his fingers at Nessa. “Focus, pigeon. You’re with me.”

Nessa tried not to frown too deeply as she moved to Lapin’s side, joining him at the head of the group. Sylvie and Luther were just behind them, with Barry flying overhead and the bull twins making up the rear. Lapin handed her the Journal, the page dedicated to Nevalaya already bookmarked.

“Well then, little linguist,” he drawled, gesturing to the jungle, “lead the way.”

Chapter Text

Guided by Wilder’s notes, Nessa did as she was told and led the procession into the jungle.

For the rest of the day, the crew trekked up short hills, over uneven leafy ground, and through thick viney trees as the sun drifted lower and lower in the sky. Nessa had been concerned about wild beasts or other natural traps they might run into, but fortunately, the journey had proven more dull than troublesome thus far. The worst things they encountered that day were heat and mosquitos, both of which Lapin consistently complained about. Nessa wished she could stuff her ears with cotton.

Throughout the hike, the hare spoke to her very little, despite being right next to her the whole time; only when he wanted to question her about directions or gripe about the mosquitos once again did he pay her any attention. Otherwise, he was barking out orders to the rest of the group or, strangely enough, keeping to himself. When Nessa wasn’t being his begrudging listener, she let her mind wander. She didn’t want to think about the temple, or what she was going to do there, so she thought about Lapin instead.

Why was he the way that he was? He and Peter had been raised in the same environment, likely by a doting father, if the positive tales of the previous king were anything to go by. If that was the case, how had Lapin become so cruel? Had being denied the throne really changed him that much? She almost wanted to ask him, to try and understand her infuriating captor even a little bit better, but she was sure whatever answer he gave her wouldn’t be good enough. Not being daddy’s favorite didn’t cut it when it came to creating a monster.

Maybe Lapin was just an asshole, and he always had been. And maybe there were better things worth thinking about.

Eventually, as the sun sank below the trees and the sky darkened, the crew came to a stop and began to set up camp for the night in a clearing. Two tents were erected, one small and one large, and Luther started a fire, which all the animals soon settled around. It had been hot and humid during the day, but now that night had fallen, it was getting surprisingly chilly. Nessa wrapped her cardigan more closely around herself as she sat on a rock by the fire.

Toro cooked a vegetable stew over the flames, naturally serving the first bowl to Lapin when it was ready. The hare took his bowl without a word of thanks, then headed promptly to the smaller of the two tents and was out of sight.

Nessa scoffed quietly. Even in the jungle, he can’t be bothered to eat with the rest of us.

Toro handed her a bowl next, which she took eagerly. “Thank you,” she said, grateful for the way it warmed her hands. She lifted it to her lips and drank, and her hungry stomach practically sighed with relief. “Wow. That’s amazing.”

The bull scratched the back of his head, looking away bashfully. “Gee. Thanks, uh—bunny.”

“Nessa,” she corrected him, not unkindly. Toro and his brother, she’d observed, weren’t actually as malicious as Lapin, and had likely genuinely forgotten her name. “It’s Nessa. You’re a really good cook.”

The bull smiled, his tiny ears perking up. “Thanks, Miss Nessa.”

“He’s the best,” Lenny piped up from the other side of the fire. “We both cook, but Toro’s better.”

“Oh, please,” Sylvie groaned, taking a seat on a stump not far from Nessa. “I’m surrounded by veggie heads.” She took a stick skewer, some dried meat impaled on the end, and held it over the fire to warm it up. “Can’t believe I’m the only meat eater here.”

“Well, I won’t say no to a grub now and then,” Luther said, chomping on a melon. “You should try a nice fruit sometime, kitty cat. Might sweeten you up a bit.”

Barry laughed, and Sylvie shot him a glare. “Watch it, featherweight,” she warned him. “When we run out of food, you’re next on the menu.”

The duck shut his beak right away.

Nessa drank more of her stew. It was good to rest after the long trek and restore her energy, and she had to admit, sitting around the fire with everyone… wasn’t unpleasant. Especially when she wasn’t the subject of conversation.

She glanced at Lapin’s tent. “Does he always eat alone?”

Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Yeah. He’s not one for slumming it.”

That didn’t surprise her. Prick. “I mean… we’re all helping him.”

“Nothing to get worked up about.” The cat pulled her skewer away from the fire to eat. “He just likes to be alone.”

“He’s probably just tired,” Barry suggested in between bites of cooked grub.

“Yeah, tired of whining about mosquitos all day,” Luther snarked.

Nessa almost choked on her stew, unable to stifle the laugh that escaped her. She hadn’t been expecting Luther, of all animals, to mention that. In seconds, the rest of the crew were laughing with her.

“He wouldn’t shut up about them,” Sylvie agreed.

“Or the heat,” Luther added. “If you’re so hot, take the damn coat off, fancypants.”

The animals laughed more, Nessa laughing along with them. “‘These insolent insects,’” she said, doing her best impression of Lapin. “‘They’re going to ruin my fur!’”

Sylvie snorted before contributing her own impression. “‘These bugs—they’re laughing at my ear!’”

“‘It’s too hot,’” Lenny joined in. “‘Lenny, make the sun go away.’”

Barry chortled loudly. “‘Take off this coat? Never! It makes me look too cool and sexy! ’”

Luther guffawed with the others, and Nessa covered her mouth, trying not to laugh too loud. She couldn’t believe these animals—Lapin’s hand-picked minions—had almost as much disdain for him as she did. Even Luther, his oldest ally, found him annoying at the very least. She really did wonder why Lapin wasn’t nicer to all of them; they did his bidding without complaint, and more flies could always be caught with honey. But she supposed being nice, or genuine, or anything good at all, really, just wasn’t something he was capable of.

She wondered if he could hear them from his tent. She really didn’t care, honestly. They were all making fun of him, not just her, and there was almost nothing he could do to punish them. He was just one hare, after all.

For once, she wasn’t the outsider of the group. They weren’t all friends, that was for certain, but right now, she had at least one thing in common with them.

At that moment, there was movement inside Lapin’s tent, and a second later, the hare himself came storming out. The camp fell quiet immediately.

“There is quite enough noise coming from out here!” he exclaimed, fists clenched at his sides. “I think it’s about time you all shut up and went to sleep. HM?”

Luther shrugged. “We were just talkin’, Lapin. We’re almost done eating.”

“I don’t care,” Lapin snapped. “Douse the fire and get to sleep. Everyone needs to be up first thing tomorrow. Got it? ”

The animals were silent, exchanging glances with one another, then all around the fire, they began to nod, thoroughly drained of mirth. Luther sighed. “Got it, boss.”

“Good.” Lapin’s ear twitched irritably. “Nessa. You’ll be in my tent.”

Nessa, who had just finished the last dregs of her stew, nearly dropped her bowl. “What?”

“Did I stutter? Get over here.”

Nessa didn’t want to move, confused and prickling with apprehension, but when she looked around, seeing no one willing to protest on her behalf, she realized she had no other choice. She rose from her rock. “Thanks for the stew, Toro.”

The bull gave her a pleased smile as she walked away.

Lapin drew back the tent opening to let her in, then let it fall shut behind them. It really was a small tent, with only a lantern and a decently-sized sleeping mat inside it, as well as Lapin’s empty bowl from dinner. Nessa’s eyes fell on the mat. There was only one.

Her ears flattened back. “Don’t tell me we’re—”

“Sharing a bed? You could say that.” Lapin stepped past her, removing his coat and setting it on the floor next to the mat.

Her blood boiled. “ Absolutely not.”

“Oh, don’t make such a fuss,” he said dryly. “I’m not going to touch you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m just not going to let you out of my sight. Not when we’re this close to the temple.”

“You know I can’t get away,” she argued. “We’re in the middle of the jungle. ”

“The Journal has the map out of here,” he responded. “What’s to stop you from taking it and making your getaway back to the ship?”

Nessa let out a scoff. “Wouldn’t Luther stop me? Or something like that?”

Lapin crossed his arms. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this, pigeon. I’m not risking anything.”

She glared at him. “You still don’t trust me.”

“I don’t trust anyone, bunny,” he said poisonously. “The world lost my trust a long time ago. Now settle down, or we’re going to have a problem.”

Nessa held his gaze for a long moment, fury sizzling inside her. She wanted to claw his face off. She wanted to leave this tent and run, even if she got tangled up in vines and never made it out of the jungle. She wanted to just get out of here, get away from him.

But that wasn’t an option for her right now.

She unclenched her fists, allowing herself to relax as much as she could. Lapin wasn’t going to let her sleep in the other tent, even if she tried to convince him. As shitty, as uncomfortable as this was, a part of her was almost glad she could have a little space to breathe in here, even if he was here too. The other tent was bigger than this one, but everyone would surely be cramped inside like sardines. At least maybe she could get some sleep.

As long as she ignored Lapin like a plague.

“Fine.” Nessa slipped off her cardigan, not bothering to remove any more of her clothes. The last thing he was going to do was watch her undress. “Just don’t touch me. Please.”

Was that a hint of a smirk on his face? “I won’t. You have my word.”

His word was good for nothing, and she knew that, but she told herself to believe him this time. He was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid enough to lay a hand on her; doing so, in any way, would ensure he no longer had her cooperation. And that was the one thing he needed at the very least.

Nessa went to the farthest side of the mat and forced herself to lay down, covering her body with the blanket that had been put there. She thanked the stars that Lapin had his own blanket and she didn’t have to share hers. Head on her pillow, she faced the wall of the tent, paying no attention to the hare even as he laid down beside her. He wasn’t touching her, but she could feel the warmth of his proximity on her back, and she shivered just slightly.

“Goodnight,” he said before blowing out the lantern.

She didn’t respond right away, hating the way he said it so casually. He was forcing her to be here with him, to sleep next to him, denying her the right to any privacy. She hated him so much. She didn’t want him to have a good night.

But in the end, she murmured back, “Goodnight.”

^ ^ ^

Nessa could feel herself waking up, little by little. She stirred, shifting on the bed—no, the sleeping mat. There was something warm close by. Was it the sun? It had to be morning already. There was a musky scent around her, and her whiskers twitched.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking as she awoke, only to jolt. She was nose to nose with Lapin.

He was still sleeping, brows furrowed as if he were caught in some kind of unpleasant dream, and Nessa was quick to jump away from him, her body hot with disgust. She’d been touching him. Not embracing him, thank the gods, but still touching him. It was horrible enough that she’d spent the night with him.

At least he hadn’t been awake to see this. Something told her he wouldn’t have let it go very quickly.

Nessa rose from the mat, eager to get dressed and forget all about her discomfort. As she was pulling her cardigan back on, Lapin grunted, propping himself up on one elbow. His blanket slipped a bit, and she noticed that he wasn’t wearing his shirt, his chest fur silver like the rest of him. Her stomach flipped, for too many reasons she couldn’t quite rationalize so early in the morning, and she jerked her head away.

“Up early,” he remarked, his voice more gravelly than usual. “Leaving so soon?”

Her back turned to him, she adjusted her cardigan. He seriously doesn’t think I’m going anywhere, does he? “Just waiting for you.”

Lapin sat up, reaching for his shirt. “And how did you sleep?”

Why do you care? “Fine, I guess.”

“I slept rather well,” he said. “In fact, I dreamed I was kissing a beautiful hare. Hm. A shame I woke up from that.”

Nessa didn’t know whether to grimace or laugh. Lapin hadn’t looked like he was dreaming about anything good, but if he had been, it surprised her that it had been about that. He hardly seemed like the type to dream about… kissing. Or anything remotely related to love. The only love he had was for treasure—and for his brother’s crown.

She wondered, absentmindedly, if anyone had ever been interested in him in the past. Doubtful.

“Well, then.” Lapin was already on his feet, pulling his shirt back on and then coat. “Let’s be heading out. Not a second to waste.”

It did not take long for the crew to pack up their things and leave the clearing behind, setting off once again towards the temple. If Nessa’s calculations were correct, they would be there before nightfall. Still, despite the long day that lay ahead of them all, she couldn’t help wishing she had more time.

She hadn’t forgotten the choice she had to make once they made it to the temple. She could either tell the truth and allow Lapin to complete whatever trial awaited him, ensuring he could move on to the next temple, or she could lie and keep him from learning about the other temples. She’d already decided on the latter, but how she would go about that plan still escaped her. She couldn’t lead the team away from Nevalaya; they’d all be traipsing around the jungle for days without end, herself included, and most likely die of starvation or be attacked by wild creatures. She wanted to get out of this alive. She just needed to be smart.

She told herself she’d know what to do when they got there.

The group stopped multiple times throughout the day, but only briefly; getting drinks of water, having quick bites of food or bathroom breaks. The third stop they made, Lapin pulled the whole crew off the trail so he could retch somewhere, unsurprisingly feeling sick from a fruit Nessa had told him not to eat. While he was hunched over behind a tree, the rest of the animals waited and twiddled their thumbs, claws and feathers.

Luther chuckled, snorting his head. “Dumbass,” he muttered under his breath.

Nessa let out a soft snort. “I told him not to eat it.”

“Been there, done that, bunny.” The gorilla sat back on his haunches, scratching at his chest. “Hey, uh. He didn’t do anythin’ to ya last night, did he?”

She looked over at him, caught off guard by the question. “What? Lapin?”

“Yeah. Didn’t hurt you or nothin’?”

Nessa hadn’t expected him to ask. Was he actually concerned about her? “Is that… something he does?” she asked tentatively.

“Well, uh. Probably not. Don’t think so. Got a temper on him, though. Never know what he’ll do.”

That was true enough. She looked down at the leafy floor, somewhat touched. “I’m fine. It was uncomfortable, but he didn’t… do anything.”

Luther nodded. “So what’s the deal with you two? You don’t like him, do ya?”

She flushed. Gods. Why did she have to answer this question? “No. I don’t like him,” she said tersely. “Wasn’t exactly my choice to be here.” After last night, she knew she could at least be somewhat honest about her feelings. With a bitter laugh, she added, “I don’t think there’s a single thing I do like about him.”

“Eh. He’s not all bad.” Luther shrugged his massive shoulders. “He’s an ass, yeah. But he’s a good leader. Real smart. When he’s not chokin’ on bad fruits, that is.”

He laughed, and Nessa laughed with him just a little, even if she couldn’t quite agree that Lapin was smart or a good leader.

“Got a boyfriend, then?” he asked. “A Mr. Bunny Rabbit?”

She still wasn’t quite sure why Luther was chatting her up, but she went along with it anyway. “Ha. No,” she answered. The only animals waiting for her back home were her family. She hoped they were doing alright. “Um… what about you?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a girl back in Senna.” Luther smiled in thought, showing some of his teeth. “Kali. Prettiest damn gorilla on Earth. More than I deserve, really.”

Luther had a girlfriend? Now that was interesting. “Kali. That’s a lovely name. Do you miss her?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure I do. Got married a few months ago. She’s the best.” He plucked a small flower from the ground, holding it between his meaty fingers. “She would’a liked this place. She wanted to come with, but she’s pregnant.”

Nessa blinked. “ Pregnant? Oh—wow. Um… congrats.”

“Yeah. I didn’t wanna leave her, but she told me to go,” he went on. “Takin’ care of a baby is expensive, y’know. Figured Lapin could help get us set up before I got back to her.”

Nessa couldn’t believe Luther had a wife and a baby on the way. She’d assumed he was nothing more than a hired goon, just Lapin’s brutish old friend, but clearly, there was another side to the gorilla. He wasn’t here just to kill or cause trouble, it was to earn some money for his growing family.

That didn’t mean Luther was a good guy. He was still working for Lapin, and clearly willing to do dirty work for his comrade if necessary, but his motivations were… certainly more noble than she’d expected. She supposed he could be making it all up, but that would be an odd—and frankly unnecessary—thing to lie about.

“You’re not worried about her?” she asked him.

“Oh, I worry,” he admitted. “But she’s got this in the bag. She’s a tough gal.”

Nessa felt herself smiling. She thought about what to say next—maybe telling him he was a good husband, or that she hoped he got back to his family safe and sound—but she couldn’t seem to find the right words. It felt too soon to be getting so chummy with Luther. He hadn’t treated her poorly, not in the least, but still, she had to keep some distance.

He might trust her enough now, but how much would he trust her by the time this day was over?

Chapter Text

Just before nightfall, the crew at last arrived at the temple.

According to the Journal, they had reached the heart of the jungle, and just past a swath of overgrown trees, they found Nevalaya. It was tall, made of ancient stone, covered in so much moss and greenery its gray color was hardly visible anymore. As they drew closer, Nessa could see long, winding markings etched into the walls. They looked like snakes. No—serpents.

She shivered. They were here. They were really here.

“Nevalaya,” Lapin breathed, pushing past her. “It’s real. ”

Nessa held the Journal a little tighter.

“Barry, fly overhead,” the hare ordered. “Make sure there are no traps anywhere around the temple.”

“Aye-aye,” the duck chirped before taking off.

Lapin took the lead as they all headed towards the front steps of the temple. There was an entrance at the top of the steps, but something told Nessa that they wouldn’t be able to simply walk inside. This temple was the first of three trials; a test for the mortal who sought the Serpent’s Eye.

She had to make sure they failed that test, without getting killed in the process.

Lapin stopped at the bottom of the steps, then turned to look at her expectantly. “Well? Do we just go inside?”

Nessa opened the book, scanning the page she’d left off on. Strangely, Wilder’s notes didn’t seem to indicate any dangers at the entrance. Perhaps they could just simply walk in—but that didn’t mean there weren’t any obstacles to be found inside the temple. “It seems fine,” she said.

“Excellent. Boys.” Lapin pointed to the bulls. “Stay here. Stand guard. We’ll be back shortly with the Eye.”

He was practically dripping with confidence; clearly, there wasn’t a shred of doubt in his mind that he would be leaving this temple with the Eye. Nessa wasn’t prepared for what would go down when that didn’t happen.

Nodding obediently, Lenny and Toro assumed positions on either side of the steps, facing away from the temple. Barry flew down to join the group. “No traps, Lapin, sir.”

“Good. Let’s move.”

The animals were moving again, and Nessa had no choice but to follow close to Lapin, but she managed to glance over her shoulder at the bull brothers as the rest of them climbed the steps. She was sure they’d be fine outside; they had each other, after all. But it wasn’t the two of them she was worried about.

It was whatever lay inside Nevalaya.

The temple’s main room was much smaller than she’d been anticipating, completely empty except for what looked like a table or altar in the center. The five of them gathered around it, and Nessa could see the symbols jutting out of its surface like pieces on a strange chessboard. It took her a second, but she realized that each one represented a different god; all together, the symbols created an elaborate constellation—one she’d seen many times before in her books on the Old Gods.

Lapin leaned down, examining the constellation. “The pantheon of the Old Gods,” he observed. “And the Serpent God is right there.” He placed his finger on the symbol in the middle, then frowned. “Wait, no. This isn’t right. The Bull is supposed to be there.”

Nessa followed his gaze, realizing he was right. She’d studied the Pantheon Constellation; it had the gods arranged in a very specific order, but here, many were in the wrong places. Apparently, Lapin had studied it too, and could still remember that order.

The hare reached for the Bull God symbol, moving it to a different spot on the tabletop. Squinting, he began to rapidly rearrange the other symbols that had been improperly placed, and Nessa found herself watching intently, stunned by the knowledge he’d evidently held onto all these years. When the constellation was fixed, he took a step back. All of a sudden, the symbols started to glow at once, lighting up the table, and the stone floor beneath the animals was grinding and shifting. Nessa’s heart rate picked up as she and the rest of the group began to descend slowly downward.

“What’s going on?” Sylvie demanded, grabbing onto the side of the table.

Nessa held on tight as well, as did the other animals as they traveled lower and lower, deeper into the temple. “It’s—some kind of elevator,” she said.

They were going down a narrow shaft, stone walls on all four sides; the giant Luther had to squeeze as close to the table as possible to avoid getting stuck. Snakelike symbols ran all down the walls, like serpents chasing after them, fangs at the ready. Nessa felt a chill run down her spine.

Where are we going?

She opened the Journal, scouring Wilder’s notes, but her question was answered quickly enough. In moments, the elevator came to a stop at the bottom of the shaft, a tunnel lying just ahead. Nessa gripped the book as they stepped off of the elevator, cautiously approaching the mouth of the tunnel. It was relatively wide, and just tall enough that Luther could fit through, but that didn’t make Nessa any less wary. How far, how deep, did it go? What lay at the other end of it?

Lapin grabbed a torch from a nearby wall, gesturing for everyone to follow. “This way. The Eye is through here, I’m sure of it.”

Nessa joined him at the head of the group, having no other choice, and soon they were all filing one by one into the tunnel, guided by the light of the torch. She had no idea how it was still burning underground after who knew how many years, but that was the least of her concerns. She hated enclosed spaces, and despite having enough room to walk comfortably, it still felt as though the walls could collapse in on them at any second.

“Nervous?” Lapin asked from beside her.

She didn’t look at him, her chest tight. “I don’t like this.”

“What? This tunnel? Or just being here with me?” He laughed.

Nessa wished they could walk faster; she wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. “This tunnel,” she muttered. “I don’t do this. Tight spaces.”

“Really? I thought you were an adventurer, pigeon.”

She sighed. “I’m a linguist. Not an adventurer. I just work with the Society.”

“Is that so?” Lapin seemed genuinely surprised. “I hadn’t realized you’d never been out. So this is your very first adventure, then.” He made an amused sound. “My, my… how flattered I am to be taking you on your first adventure, dear.”

Nessa didn’t answer. This was not at all her ideal first adventure, which would not have involved getting kidnapped and forced to confront her claustrophobia in the slightest.

The ceiling shuddered just a bit, and she jumped in fear, bumping into Lapin when a loose stone fell and landed near her feet. “Whoa, now,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Calm down. This temple is still intact.”

She collected herself, steadying her breathing. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” he said simply. “It wouldn’t come down that easily.” His hand still on her shoulder, he resumed walking. “Just a little bit further. I can feel it.”

Nessa wanted to do anything except keep going, but she pressed on nevertheless, the rest of the animals keeping up just behind her. She was aware of Lapin’s warm hand on her, but something kept her from smacking it away. Perhaps her distress at the moment was just stronger than her disgust for him.

She had no idea how long they were inside the tunnel, but gradually, it began to open up, and light became visible ahead the further they went. After some time, the five of them were stepping out of the tunnel and into a new room.

It was much larger than the first, with a high ceiling like a cavern and torches all along the walls, keeping them from being in complete darkness. A sizable section of the floor was divided into tiny squares, like the sections of a chessboard. Each one had a different symbol inside, but none resembled the symbols of the Gods.

“Chess?” Sylvie asked, studying the floor.

Lapin handed his own torch to her, then stepped towards the squares, uncharacteristically silent. “No,” he said, dropping down to examine the symbols more closely. “A puzzle.” He looked up. “Nessa—what does that damn book say?”

Nessa knew she was freezing up. She still couldn’t believe she was here, in an ancient temple in the middle of a jungle, on her first real adventure ever, even if she was here as a prisoner. She didn’t know how long they’d been inside the temple, but already it seemed they’d reached the test part of the trial. The constellation puzzle from before had likely just been a warmup, but Lapin had figured that out all on his own, and she hadn’t even tried to stop him. She’d been too anxious inside the tunnel to attempt anything, either.

For all she knew, this new puzzle was the key to completing the trial, and if Lapin learned how to solve it, she’d lose her chance to throw him off. She had to do something now.

She opened up the Journal again. Sure enough, Wilder had described how to solve the very puzzle that lay before them. The symbols came from a unique code—something called the Tortellan Code—and Wilder had left instructions in his notes on how to decipher them.

Thinking fast, she said, “The symbols are—from some kind of code. But it doesn’t say what the code is.”

“ What? You can’t be serious.” Lapin growled, continuing to probe the puzzle board with his eyes. Then, abruptly, he stood up. “Wait. I know this code. It’s the Reyen—no, the Tortellan Code.”

Nessa’s heart dropped. No. No. He knows it already?

“The Turtle-what now?” Barry asked.

“The Tortellan Code, ” Lapin repeated, correcting him. “Now all of you, quiet. ”

The hare circled the puzzle board, tapping one of the squares with his foot experimentally. The square glowed, much like the pieces from the constellation, and Nessa could only watch, speechless, as the invisible cogs turned inside his head and he set about solving the puzzle right in front of her, without any assistance at all.

She hurried back to Wilder’s notes, her heart sinking further and further as she read through them. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. If Lapin solved this puzzle, the trial was complete, and he was already doing it all by himself. He didn’t need help from the Journal; not at this point, anyway. Wilder himself had solved the puzzle on his own, and the reward for completing the trial was—

The entire board started to glow just then, and she looked up from the page, knowing at once that the puzzle was finished. Lapin hopped back as the illuminated squares fell away, opening up the floor and creating a chasm where the board had been. All the animals, Nessa included, stared in awe as a glowing object rose up from inside the chasm, hovering in midair.

A golden staff.

Nessa gaped. It couldn’t be the Eye. It wasn’t the Eye; it was only a golden staff, with no russet snake wound around the hilt and no round red ruby in the serpent’s mouth. It was only one part of the famed treasure—the other two still had yet to be earned.

But the first trial had still been completed.

Lapin’s eyes shone, a mystified expression on his gray face. Without speaking, he reached for the whip attached to his belt and unwound it, using it to capture the staff and bring it to him. When the staff was in his hands, he looked over every inch of it, wonderment turning to confusion.

“Where is the eye?” he demanded. “This is just a staff.”

The animals looked at one another, equally baffled, and Nessa’s throat felt ready to close up. Before anyone could say anything, though, something else was rising out of the chasm. All heads turned toward it: a glowing, translucent golden orb, shaped like a globe of the world.

Lapin moved as close as he could to the orb, scrutinizing it. “What is this?” He beckoned urgently. “Nessa. Come here.”

Nessa wished she could leave her own body. She did as she was ordered, holding tightly onto the Journal as she took her place next to Lapin. Looking up at the orb, she saw that there were two blinking lights visible on the globe; one white, on a tiny island in the south—no doubt, representing Maril—and one red, on a different continent to the east. Then both of them faded, along with the orb itself.

It didn’t take a genius to interpret the message; the map had shown where they were now, and where they still needed to go. And no matter how much she wracked her brain, she couldn’t think of a single way to keep that truth from him.

“Explain,” Lapin commanded, showing her the staff. “You said the Eye was here, but this is just a staff with no jewel. And what was that just now?”

Nessa swallowed, glancing down at the chasm before them. She could easily toss the Journal right in; now that the globe had disappeared, Lapin would have nothing left to guide him to the next temple. But that kind of move would instantly spell her death.

Maybe she was stubborn. Maybe she was stupid. But she didn’t want to die just yet.

Maintaining her composure, she said, “The Eye isn’t here.”

Lapin’s eyes darkened. “ What? ”

“It’s not here,” she repeated. “That much is obvious. The rest of it is somewhere else; that map just showed us where.”

Anger crept into his features. “You knew it wasn’t here?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I just found out. Just like you.”

Lapin let out a laugh, furious and disbelieving. “You liar. You read the notes; all the notes on this temple. I watched you. You knew the Eye was somewhere else!”

Nessa knew she could lie again, dig herself deeper and deeper, but there was no point now. He’d caught her. It was over.

“Fine,” she spat. “I knew. But you got what you wanted anyway, didn’t you? You got your stupid staff. And you know where the next temple is.”

“You knew all this time, ” Lapin snarled. “You let me believe the Eye was here. How many more temples are there? Just one?”

She kept her mouth shut.

His face was rapidly contorting with wrath. “ How many? ”

Still she said nothing.

He grabbed her by the front of her shirt, yanking her forward. “ Answer me! ”

Nessa looked right at him, burning with defiance. Then she spit into his eye.

Lapin roared, shoving her back as he rubbed his eye with his free hand, the other still holding the staff. Nessa fell to the floor, the Journal hitting the ground beside her. Standing up taller, Lapin looked down at her, heaving with rage.

“Luther,” he ordered, “restrain her.”

Chapter Text

Nessa’s hands were bound, the Journal snatched from her by Lapin, then she was unceremoniously slung over Luther’s shoulder and carried like a sack of potatoes all the way back through the temple.

“Sorry, bunny,” the gorilla muttered to her inside the tunnel. “Didn’t want it to go this way.”

Nessa didn’t respond, remaining deathly silent the entire journey. Lapin wasn’t going to kill her; he still needed her. But there was no telling what was going to happen to her now. She’d certainly lost any semblance of freedom she’d had with the crew, and would likely be restrained at all times now, except when she had to read from the book. Lapin had warned her what he would do if she defied him again, but that hardly mattered anymore. She had to come up with a new plan.

She just didn’t have the slightest clue what it was going to be.

When the crew finally returned to the surface, it was dreadfully dark, and Nessa knew it was still late at night. The animals filed out of the temple, and she heard the bull brothers greet them. “Didja get it?” Lenny asked excitedly.

There was a pause, then Lapin spoke. “No,” he said coldly. “Just a piece of it.”

Luther carried Nessa down the steps, eventually coming to a stop and setting her back down on her feet. She wobbled a bit, still not used to being upright. She looked up at the gorilla, wondering if he would say something to her, but he was unusually stone-faced.

“Everyone, set up camp for the night,” Lapin ordered. “Toro, make some food.” He handed the staff and Journal to Lenny. “Guard these with your life. I’ll be right back.”

He turned towards her just then, and her blood chilled.

“Nessa. Come with me.”

Nessa hesitated. What did he want with her? She thought about turning and fleeing, trying to get away somehow, but it was too late, too dark. What could she possibly hope to do?

Keeping her head down, she left Luther’s side and stepped towards Lapin. The hare began to head away from the crew, leading her around the side of the temple to a secluded spot between two pillars. Once there, he backed her into the wall, glaring down at her.

"I told you what would happen if you didn’t behave.”

Nessa glared back at him. “You said you needed my hands.”

“Right now, I don’t,” he replied. “You’ll be untied when I need you to read the Journal again. But I think it’s safe to say, my dear, that you’ll be bound for the rest of our trip.”

She gritted her teeth. “I’m not doing anything else for you.”

“Is that right?” he growled. “Then maybe simply binding you isn’t enough.”

She laughed hoarsely. “Do what you want, asshole. I’m done helping you.”

“Oh, no you’re not,” he hissed. “You will read the Journal for me.”

Nessa scoffed. “Or what?”

He bared his teeth. “There are far worse things I can do than just tying you up, and you know it.”

She held his gaze. “You don’t scare me.”

“You should be scared,” he snarled. “I’m—I’m Lapin the ninth. I’ve killed animals with my bare hands.”

“And yet,” she said derisively, “you can’t do anything yourself.”

Anger blazed in his eyes. “You should watch your mouth, bunny. You’re already on the thinnest of ice.”

“I got you to the staff, didn’t I?” she demanded. “I lied, sure, but you got what you wanted. Threatening me isn’t gonna help you.”

“Ah, so I should just forgive you, then? Forget how you disrespected me?”

“I don’t see how else you’re gonna get your precious treasure.”

Lapin sneered. “Oh, I don’t need to forgive you. You need to know your place. ”

Hatred boiled inside Nessa. She wished her hands weren’t tied so she could wring his stupid neck. “You are never gonna be king, you know that?”

His lips curled back into a snarl. “What’s that?”

“You heard me,” she spat. “You don’t have what it takes to be king. That’s why you want the Eye so badly. You don’t stand a chance against Peter without it.”

Lapin let out a harsh growl, grabbing her throat with one hand. “You little bitch. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His grasp was tight, but not so tight she couldn’t speak. “You’re smart. Really smart. But you can’t lead.”

“I lead this crew,” he retorted. “They follow me. ”

“Those animals don’t respect you,” Nessa bit back. “They only follow you because they’re either desperate or stupid. ”

Lapin’s grip tightened, and pain shot up her neck. “You—you don’t know anything, ” he said darkly. “You know nothing about the world. You’re just a weak, cowardly little bunny.”

He was squeezing her throat hard, but she wouldn’t let him see a shred of weakness. She stared defiantly into his eyes, unafraid. “And you’re a sad old man with a fucked-up ear.”

Nessa knew right away that she had stunned him in the worst way possible, and for a moment, she was sure she was going to die. She was bound, and he had his hand around her neck, and no one nearby cared enough about her to come to her rescue; she was completely at his mercy.

She didn’t know why she’d provoked him like this. She was so angry, so tired. Maybe a part of her had given up and just wanted all this to be over. She didn’t want to fight him anymore, or keep playing this twisted game. Why did the fate of Featherbeard rest on her shoulders? Why was she the one that had gotten kidnapped, the one that now had to stop Lapin? She wasn’t a hero, or even an adventurer. She was just a linguist. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve any of this.

But at least if she was dead, he couldn’t get to the Eye.

Nessa held eye contact with Lapin, unwavering. She could see the fury in his gaze, the torrent of emotions storming inside of him. She wondered if he wanted to kill her. Of course he did; why wouldn’t he? The only reason he was holding back at all was because he still needed her. But maybe he’d finally lose it and give in now, after everything she’d said. Maybe he’d move past his obsession for the Eye and end this whole mess.

Maybe she could be free.

All of a sudden, she felt his grip loosen, and his hand was gone from her throat. Lapin slammed his palms against the wall, one on either side of her head, caging her in. He locked eyes with hers, searching them fiercely, almost desperately. He was breathing hard, lips parted slightly, and Nessa had no idea what was going through his head. What was he doing? Was he still angry? Did he still want to hurt her?

He leaned closer just a bit, their noses almost touching, and she felt his breath on her face. A strange heat flooded her body. Was it anger? Fear? Something else? She couldn’t tell.

What was happening?

Just then, Lapin drew back, pulling abruptly away from her. He blinked, removing his hands from the wall, and looked away. “No food or water tonight,” he murmured, the ferocity gone from his voice. “And you’ll sleep outside.”

He took hold of the rope around her wrists and tugged her back towards the camp.

^ ^ ^

Nessa was tied to a tree to one side of the camp, and there she remained as the crew cooked their late meal and ate. Lapin, as usual, was the first to be served and went straight to his tent, but did not reemerge once, even long after the animals had finished their food and doused the fire. Naturally, Nessa was given nothing to eat or drink, and as the crew settled in for the night, all she could do was try to ignore her thoughts and her growling stomach.

She’d known this would be her fate, but that didn’t make it any less difficult. She was tired and hungry and uncomfortable, most of her strength extinguished along with the campfire. It was clear now that Lapin was going to keep her alive; he hadn’t given up on getting the Eye. She wasn’t dead, but her situation was about to get a lot worse, and the weight of her failure was painfully heavy.

What was she going to do now?

“Hey, Bun-Bun.”

Nessa lifted her head, finding Sylvie standing a few feet from her. The rest of the animals had retired to their tent, and Lapin was still in his, leaving only the two of them outside. The cat had her arms crossed, and something in her hand that Nessa couldn’t quite see.

“I’m guessing you’re my guard?” Nessa asked wearily.

“For now,” Sylvie answered. “Luther’ll take over in a few hours.” She took a step closer, then opened her hand to reveal what she’d been hiding. “Look, I’m not supposed to be giving you these, but…”

Nessa looked down, shocked to see a handful of blueberries in Sylvie’s palm. The cat had stolen food for her? “I don’t—”

“Just take them, okay?” Sylvie cut her off. “Lapin’s an idiot. You’ll be way more agreeable if you have something to eat.”

Nessa hesitated. “I don’t… understand.”

“Look, starving you won’t help us,” she muttered. “I’m all for torturing people who deserve it, but you don’t. I mean… not really, anyway. It’s not like you’ll make that mistake again.”

Mistake. Of course, she was referring to keeping the truth from Lapin. Nessa leaned forward as far as she could. They were just regular blueberries; not poisonous. Baffling as it was, Sylvie really was just… trying to help her.

The cat picked up a blueberry and held it out to her. “Come on. Open up.”

It was a little humiliating, being hand-fed by one of her captors, but Nessa was too hungry to complain. She opened her mouth, taking each berry one by one. She savored their sweetness on her tongue, grateful for just a little bit of food to restore her energy. When the berries were gone, she leaned back against the tree. “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” was all Sylvie said back, wiping her hand on her pants. She moved to one side of Nessa, facing the temple with her arms folded over her chest. A long moment of silence passed between them.

“Why do you work for him?” Nessa finally asked.

Sylvie didn’t answer right away. After several heartbeats, she sighed. “I was just a kid when we met,” she said. “Living on the streets. No money, no family. When I met Lapin, I was actually trying to steal from him. Rich boy, easy target. Or so I thought.” She chuckled. “I got his wallet, but I didn’t get far. I thought he was gonna kill me, or get me locked up. But he offered me a job instead. Said he was… impressed.”

Nessa was quiet. She suspected she knew exactly what job Lapin had been talking about.

“He wanted to kill his brother,” Sylvie continued. “I hated the king; he turned a blind eye to animals living in the streets. So I took the offer. We were kinda like partners, for a bit. Plotting against Peter, staging a coup.” She scoffed. “Obviously it failed, and I got thrown in the dungeons with Lapin. But… then he got me out. Took him fourteen years, but he got me out. And I remembered what he did for me. I had nothing, and he gave me a purpose. That’s… not something you can just forget.”

A purpose. Her words echoed in Nessa’s head. The purpose he’d given her was… to kill? To serve him?

“You don’t have to follow him,” she said softly.

Sylvie glanced at her and snorted. “I don’t have to do anything,” she answered. “I can leave whenever I want.”

“He treats you like a servant,” Nessa pointed out. “All of you.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes. “It’s not perfect,” she said coolly. “But we’ve all got something to gain by being here. Money, comfort, a royal pardon. When Lapin is king, he’ll set things right in Featherbeard. Those animals on the street aren’t gonna be fighting over scraps anymore.”

Nessa understood what she was saying; it was noble, really, for Sylvie to want something better for animals who grew up like her. But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t envision a future where Lapin was a good king, one who helped those in need. “You really think he’ll do that?”

The cat shrugged. “Gotta believe he will,” she murmured. “Any king is better than Peter.”

Nessa looked down at the ground. She’d always thought of Peter as a wise, dependable ruler, and a kind man. She’d worked alongside him many times, even if it was in a map room and not out on an adventure somewhere. She’d seen animals in unfortunate situations, animals in need of charity in the kingdom, but she’d always believed Peter did his best to help them, and went out on his expeditions to secure wealth for his people.

She couldn’t align herself fully with Sylvie’s beliefs; she was still loyal to Peter, if only because he was still her king, and Lapin certainly wouldn’t make a better one. But there was no doubt she’d been born more privileged than others, and there was a great deal of nuance to life in Featherbeard. It was possible the kingdom really did need serious changes.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last. “That you… grew up like that.”

Sylvie didn’t look at her, but her shoulders seemed to untense just slightly. She swished her tail. “No point dwelling on the past.”

No, Nessa thought. I guess there isn’t.

^ ^ ^

The next few hours were spent mostly in silence. Nessa found herself slipping in and out of a restless half-sleep, unable to relax completely in her current position. She was able to sit down, at least, but sleep evaded her nonetheless, and the cold night wind made it even harder to rest. Eventually, Sylvie traded places with Luther, who came ambling out of the tent looking tired and irritable. Most likely, he didn’t appreciate getting woken up so soon, especially not to be a guard. He took his position with a grunt, and Nessa pretended to be asleep; the last thing she wanted was to annoy him more.

Luther crouched beside her for a long time, hardly moving a muscle. When Nessa finally dared to open her eyes, he was hanging his head just a bit, his own eyes closed. She shifted against the tree quietly, looking him over. He was asleep.

It made her want to laugh a little. Some big, scary guard he was. She wished she herself could fall asleep so easily.

Nessa decided to stand, wondering if stretching her legs a bit could help tire her out. Luther seemed to be out cold, so she began to move silently back and forth along the side of the trunk, letting the blood rush back down her legs. So far, it seemed to be waking her up more than tiring her out, to her displeasure.

She tried to move further to one side, but she couldn’t seem to turn all the way. She felt a disturbance, almost as if something had gotten caught in the rope. Puzzled, she turned around to try and see what it was.

Squinting in the darkness, Nessa realized a sharp stick had gotten stuck under the rope on the other side of the tree, and was currently cutting into her binds. She went still, stunned by the revelation. She shifted herself one way, and the stick cut deeper into the rope.

Her heart was beginning to race. Oh gods. If she kept doing this, she could cut all the way through, and she’d be free. She couldn’t believe her luck.

Nessa kept moving back and forth, driving the stick to cut deeper and deeper, but stopped herself. What was she doing? Even if she managed to get free, how could she get away without waking Luther, or anyone else for that matter? And if she somehow managed to escape the camp, how would she get back to the ship? She didn’t have a map, or the Journal, or even anything to light her way. She’d be a goner if she went out alone.

Then she remembered; earlier that day, she’d seen Sylvie marking the trees with her claws as they’d passed, creating a trail to follow if the Journal ever led them astray. It wasn’t as trusty as a map, and she could still very well get lost, especially in the dark, but she had to try. She could get away from the camp, then make herself a torch once she was far enough.

It wasn’t a good plan. It wasn’t even remotely smart. A dozen things could happen to her once she left the camp, but she couldn’t stay here a second longer. Desperation could very well be making her stupid, but she couldn’t keep doing this. She had to do something. If she could just make it a few miles from here, she could find a place to hide for the night and try to get to the ship first thing in the morning.

Nessa clenched her teeth and got back to work. It took several long minutes, but at last, the stick sliced all the way through. The ropes shuddered and snapped, then her binds were falling to the ground around her.

She winced, praying that the sound hadn’t woken up Luther, and to her relief, it hadn’t. The gorilla was still fast asleep, and Nessa began to back away from him slowly. She glanced at the two tents on the other side of the camp. Everyone was asleep, even Sylvie, a notoriously light sleeper. All her things—her clothes, her bag, her supplies—were inside Lapin’s tent, and she had no chance of getting them. She had no food or water or a single weapon to protect herself with, but she couldn’t waste any more time. It was now or never.

She turned and slipped through the trees, hurrying away from the camp.

Nessa’s heart pounded as she charged through the undergrowth, moving as silently but swiftly as she dared. After a few minutes, she peered over her shoulder, miraculously finding no one in pursuit, and her resolve grew. Following Sylvie’s markings, she jumped over small streams, slid down leafy hills, and crept under gnarled, hanging branches, racing deeper into the jungle and further from Nevalaya. Not once did she stop, not even to catch her breath, until she was sure the camp was far behind her.

Nessa slowed to a halt in a tiny clearing. It had started to rain, and she sought shelter under a tree, thankful for its massive leaves that kept her somewhat dry. She cursed the change in weather. It would be almost impossible to light a torch now in the rain, and she couldn’t just stay here for the night; she still wasn’t far enough from the camp.

She pressed her back against the tree trunk. She could just wait it out. The night hadn’t come to an end just yet.

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.

Nessa froze, her ears standing alert. There was something coming. Something big.

She crouched low, creeping behind a bush and waiting. A moment later, an enormous insect, five times her size, marched into the clearing, its antennae twitching intently. She held her breath. It was a giant mantis.

No, no, no. It had to be looking for food. If it found her here, it would kill and eat her. She had to keep hiding. She couldn’t move a muscle.

The mantis lowered its head, feeling the ground with its antennae. It pawed the jungle floor with one huge front leg, inching forward as it searched the clearing, undoubtedly hunting for crickets and other small creatures to eat. Nessa shivered at the sight of its deadly claws, one at the end of each leg. She couldn’t let it find her. She wasn’t going to die here.

The mantis drew closer and closer, and she sucked in another breath when it reached her hiding place. It tilted its head, antennae wiggling, then lifted a claw. No. No. Please.

In one fell swoop, it tore through the leaves of the bush, exposing her.

Nessa was frozen for a heartbeat, glued to her spot, too terrified to move. But when the mantis clicked its fangs and swiped at her again, she felt adrenaline take charge, and she scrambled to her feet and ran.

She hurtled out of the clearing, into the darkness and rain, and she could hear the mantis pursuing. She bounded over bushes and through trees, unable to make sense of where she was going. Her chest was heaving, every nerve inside her alive with terror. She didn’t escape captivity just to die like this. No. Please, no.

She hadn’t made it far when suddenly, she slipped on the muddy ground and tumbled over. In seconds, the mantis was upon her, snatching her up between its claws and hoisting her into the air. Nessa opened her mouth and screamed as she was tossed, then promptly caught again by the mantis. It slammed her into a nearby tree, letting go as she slid down the trunk and crumpled when she hit the jungle floor.

Nessa let out a choked gasp, her entire body crying out in pain. Something was broken, she could feel it, but she couldn’t tell what it was, and her head was ringing so loudly she couldn’t hear anything else. She was dragged away from the tree, then the mantis slashed her side with one claw, and she screamed again, hot blood burbling from the wound. Her eyes were fluttering closed, her strength fading hard and fast.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die, and it’s all my fault.

The mantis raised its claw once more, preparing for its killing blow, and she couldn’t keep her eyes open. It was over.

Somebody. Anybody. Help me.

Chapter Text

It was dark. So dark. Was she dead?

Nessa couldn’t see, but she could hear things. Voices shouting. Pounding fists and crunching bones. Sticks breaking underfoot. She was being lifted off the ground, and she was limp, weightless, against something warm. Where was she going? What was happening? Was she dying?

She was numb, but she could still feel a faint, throbbing pain in her side. She wasn’t dead. Not yet.

But she couldn’t open her eyes.

Distant voices, talking all at once, echoing and blending together.

“What happened?”

“She’s losing blood. Get her something, now! ”

“Where are the bandages?”

“I-I dunno. Lemme look.”

“We don’t have time. Hurry! ”

“Wake up, princess. C’mon. Stay with us.”

Something was patting Nessa’s cheek, but she still couldn’t open her eyes. She was somewhere deep inside herself, somewhere dark and alone.

“Shit. She’s not waking up.”

“The pain is too much for her. Give me those.”

“Oh, boy. Is she gonna make it?”

“Shut up.”

Gauze and fabric tearing. Deft hands working, cleaning, wiping away blood. Another pat to her cheek.

“Nessa. Wake up.”

Fingers snapping. Nessa was sinking deeper into the abyss, an aching sensation all around her.

“Wake up. Wake up. ”

Firm hands shaking her shoulders. A finger at her pulse point. An agitated growl.

“This isn’t enough. She’s dying.”

“What—what do we do?”

“She’s not gonna die, is she?”

“No. I won’t let her.”

Hands over her chest, rhythmically pushing. Something warm over her mouth. More pushing.

“I found it—that thing. That tonic from the market.”

Blood pumping. Air flowing.

“Tonic?” A pause. Fingers at her pulse point again. “Give it to me.”

Foul liquid rushing down her throat. The voices were less faint now. Nessa could feel a stirring, like her body was coming alive.

“Is it working? What’s going on?”

“Is she breathing?”

“Everyone back up! ”

Warmth surged through her, mixed with mind-numbing pain. She couldn’t handle it. She wanted to scream.

“Nessa, wake up.”

That voice echoed over and over. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

“Wake up. Please.”

Nessa gasped, gulping in lungfuls of air, and her eyes shot open. The first thing she saw, for the briefest of moments, was Lapin kneeling over her, shock and concern on his pale face.

Then she lost consciousness again, the darkness swallowing her up.

^ ^ ^

Nessa was on a ship. On the rail of a ship, to be exact.

She stood, balanced precariously on the wood, looking out across the dark expanse of the sea. The moon shone down from the starless sky, reflected on the surface of the black water. She peered down at the waves, crashing tirelessly, almost violently, against the hull of the ship. One jump was all it took, and it would be over. One jump into that cold, dark water. She readied herself.

Then someone grabbed her by the wrist.

Nessa hesitated. A few heartbeats passed, then she let them pull her back, stepping off of the rail. She turned, and found herself looking up at Lapin, the night wind blowing his coat behind him.

She opened her eyes.

She shifted, realizing she was lying on her back on a sleeping mat, and the second she moved, red-hot pain shot up through her body. Nessa let out a soft, sharp cry, her hand flying to her side. She found thick bandages there, wrapped firmly around her midsection. Tentatively, she touched the gauze right where she was hurting, and memories came rushing back to her.

She’d freed herself from her binds and escaped the camp. She’d fled deep into the jungle, but had barely gotten far before running into a giant mantis. It had thrown her and wounded her. It had been about to kill her, but—

Somehow, she was still alive.

Nessa looked around. She was inside Lapin’s tent, but Lapin himself was nowhere to be found. She could hear muffled voices outside, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. It sounded like all animals were accounted for, though.

There was no doubt about it: they had been the ones to rescue her from the mantis. They were the only reason she wasn’t dead.

She had no idea how she was supposed to feel about that.

The tent opening rustled just then, and a moment later, Lapin came walking in. He froze when he noticed her, his expression turning from one of displeasure to one of surprise. His brows were furrowed, as if he were bemused, but his eyes betrayed his emotions. There was a light in them, almost like awe—but more like relief.

“You’re awake,” he said.

Nessa held his gaze for several seconds, not sure what to say back. Her shirt was still open, revealing her bare chest, and she covered herself with her blanket. At last, she murmured, “Yes.”

He approached her somewhat cautiously, coming to a halt beside the sleeping mat. “How… are you feeling?” he asked, looking down at her.

She forced herself to sit up, wincing. “Hurts,” she said, clutching her side. “But… I’ll live.”

Lapin was silent for a heartbeat, flexing his hands at his sides. It looked like there were a thousand things running through his mind, then his face was suddenly warping with fury. “Do you—do you have any idea how utterly idiotic that was?” he demanded. “Running away—into the jungle—with nothing. You were just asking to die! You would’ve been killed if Luther hadn’t woken up and alerted us! That mantis—What—what were you thinking? ”

Nessa didn’t look at him. She held herself, her heart twisting painfully. She wanted to say something, to fight back, to tell him he was the reason she’d run away and nearly gotten eaten, because it was true. But she couldn’t bring herself to. There was no fire inside her, all her strength depleted in her weak, injured state. She’d fucked up, and had almost been killed because of it.

She could’ve died.

Tears were welling in her eyes, faster than she could stop them. “I’m sorry.”

For once, Lapin seemed speechless. She pressed her forehead into her knees, tears trickling down her cheeks, then after a lengthy silence, he finally spoke. “It’s… alright.”

Nessa drew in a breath and wiped her nose.

“There’s no need for that. You are… still alive, after all.”

She still couldn’t look over at him. “You… saved me.”

“Luther saved you,” he said quietly. “We all found you in the jungle, but he fought off the mantis and carried you back here. I had to patch you up afterwards.”

She moved her left shoulder. It felt odd. “I—did I… break something?”

“You dislocated your shoulder,” he said. “I put it back in place while you were sleeping.”

So that was it. Nessa touched her bandage lightly. “I was… about to die. I could—I thought—”

“You nearly did,” Lapin responded. “You were… losing a lot of blood. You were fading in and out of consciousness, and you stopped breathing. I had to… resuscitate you.”

Nessa remembered it faintly; someone pushing down on her chest, over and over, then something warm… on her mouth. She brought her hand to her lips as realization hit her.

He’d only done it to save her, but… he’d kissed her.

“There was no other way,” Lapin said simply. “I got you to breathe again, but you still weren’t waking up. I hate to admit it, but it looks like that quack from the market wasn’t a quack after all.”

It took her a second, but she understood. “The—the tonic.”

“Right,” he said. “It saved your life, more or less. I’m not sure you would’ve woken up without it.”

Nessa thanked the gods they’d decided to buy that tonic from Rosa. She wished she could thank the fox herself; she vowed to do so if she ever got the chance.

She dried her eyes with the back of her hand, clearing away the remaining tears. A part of her regretted showing such vulnerability to him, but there was nothing she could do about it now. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Lapin was quiet. Then he took a small step closer. “While you chose to run off and… put yourself in harm’s way,” he said slowly, “I realize that I may have… pushed you to make such an erratic choice.”

Nessa looked up.

He glanced away, scratching his ear uncomfortably. “I may have been… more harsh than necessary with you,” he continued. “You did lie to me, kept valuable information from me, but I suppose I could have given a… lesser punishment. I suppose it’s not… all that surprising that you chose to run away—even if it was inconceivably stupid of you.”

She listened, bewildered by his words. It was incredibly passive-aggressive, but was he actually… trying to apologize to her?

Lapin grimaced a bit. “What I mean to say is,” he said, “I am… s—ss—sss—”

Nessa waited intently. Was he really going to say it?

He cleared his throat. “I am—ahem—it is possible that I am partially responsible for your actions.”

She stared at him blankly. Then, involuntarily, she began to laugh. It bubbled up from within her, making her side hurt, but she couldn’t help it. “You were about to say you were sorry.”

He scowled. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were,” she said, giggling. “You were going to say sorry.”

His ears flattened back. “I was going to do no such thing! This was—this was all your fault! Stop laughing!”

Nessa kept laughing, more and more until the pain in her side became too much, and she forced herself to stop. It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was more than she’d ever thought she’d hear from him, and that was far better than nothing.

He knew his treatment of her had made her run away. That had to at least count for something.

She relaxed her shoulders, one hand on her bandaged wound. “So… what happens now?”

Lapin put his hands behind his back. “Well… nothing has changed, apart from your injury,” he answered. “As soon as you’re well enough, we’ll get back to the ship and set a course for the next temple.”

The next temple. Nessa had practically forgotten all about it. Given that she was still alive, clearly Lapin still intended for her to guide the crew to it. “And me?” she asked.

“You’re our linguist,” he replied. “You’ll lead us there, naturally.” He looked away. “No restraints. No denied privileges. We… wouldn’t want another incident to happen.”

No restraints? He… wasn’t going to punish her? For any of this? “What are you saying?”

Lapin sighed. “I’m saying,” he said, “that you are… a member of our crew. You might not have joined by your own choice, but you are one of us now, nevertheless. You’re the one who will lead us to the Eye, and you will be treated like everyone else. Not like a prisoner.”

Nessa listened silently, still processing what he was telling her.

“To be clear, you can’t go home,” he said. “Not yet. None of us can go home until we have the Eye. But you hold the key to obtaining that treasure. And once we have it, we’ll return to Featherbeard with the most powerful artifact in existence. You, my dear, will no longer be a mere linguist, but an adventurer. A valued asset to the rightful king.”

He dropped down to her level. “It was a mistake to treat you so cruelly. You are not just a bunny. You’re a strong, clever girl. More resilient than many animals I’ve known.” Conviction gleamed in his eyes. “I will ensure nothing else happens to you. And when we return with the Eye, and I have the throne, I will grant you any wish you desire.”

Nessa gazed at him, perplexed. Any wish she desired? Did he intend to use the Eye for that, as payment for her helping him?

There were so many things she wanted to say, to ask, but Lapin was already getting up. “No doubt, you’ll need your rest,” he said. “I’m no doctor, but I’d say you’ll be good to walk again in the morning. And Luther can always carry you back to the ship if necessary.”

In the morning? “How… long have I been out?”

“A day. You slept through it; it’s night again now.”

Gods. She couldn’t believe so much time had passed.

Lapin headed towards the tent opening. “Is there anything you need?”

Nessa blinked. She still wasn’t used to him being like this—not kind, per se, but much nicer than usual. Calling it strange was an understatement.

She swallowed, and realized how parched her throat was. “I, um… I wouldn’t mind some water. Please.”

“Alright,” he responded. “Sylvie will get you some. What about food?”

Thinking about eating made her queasy. “No, thank you.”

“Very well. I’ll be back in an hour or two to change your bandages.” He reached for the tent opening.

“Wait,” she blurted out.

He paused.

She hesitated. She felt like he’d only just gotten here, and he was already leaving. There were a dozen things she could ask him, and she wanted to. Why aren’t you angrier with me? Why are you treating me better than before? Why offer to grant me a wish?

Why fight so hard to keep me alive?

That last question, she knew, was easily answered. Lapin still needed her. They all did. If she didn’t matter so much to their mission, they surely would’ve left her for dead.

Still, she couldn’t shake the thought of Lapin working fast to tend to her wounds, bandaging her up, refusing to let her die. Abandoning his dignity, even for a moment, to give her air to breathe. She remembered hearing his voice, begging her to wake up. She remembered him kneeling over her, that look on his face when she'd opened her eyes. Like he’d seen a miracle.

Like he… cared.

But she told herself that couldn’t be true. At the end of the day, he didn’t care about anyone but himself.

Right?

“Nothing,” she said. “Just, um… thank you.”

Lapin lingered at the entryway. His ear twitched once. “Rest for now, pigeon,” he said, in a tone that almost sounded gentle. “You’ll need your strength.”

Then he left the tent, letting the curtain fall shut behind him.

Chapter Text

Despite the circumstances, Nessa was grateful for a chance to rest.

She spent the remainder of the night in the tent, drinking water when she could to keep up her strength and drifting in and out of sleep. Once, she was awake long enough to have some herbal tea Lenny brought her; apparently, it was a tea his and Toro’s mother used to make for them when they were sick. The gesture warmed her heart as much as the drink soothed her stomach.

Twice, Lapin returned to her side. The first time, it was to change her bandages; a necessary act to prevent infection, but an unfortunately intimate one. It was difficult for Nessa to ignore his hands on her, however carefully he touched her; the last time he’d done so, she’d been unconscious, and in a way, she wished she still was. Being more or less at his mercy was nothing new, but something about Lapin kneeling next to her, gently tending to her, keeping his mouth shut for once while he worked, didn’t feel right.

Nothing about the way he was acting now seemed normal. She wasn’t used to him treating her with such care, even treating her like anything close to an equal. She’d been sure at first that her defiance would only make things worse between them, anger him even more and ensure harsher punishments for her in the future, but for whatever reason, it seemed to have had the opposite effect.

It was clear by now that something had changed. Lapin had been… shaken by the event. At the very least, he knew his actions had driven her to run away, and as a result, he’d almost lost his navigator—the member of his crew most crucial to his mission—for good. He had no intention of letting that happen again, so, uncharacteristic as it was, he’d opted to change his approach—which meant no longer treating her like a prisoner. Nessa had to admit, it was probably the smartest thing he could’ve done.

It would take some time to adjust, and she wasn’t sure how long it would even last, but if it stuck, it would absolutely be a welcome change of pace. That she couldn’t deny. She was just looking forward to being able to take care of herself again.

The second time, Lapin returned to stay for the night. Since rescuing her from the mantis and bringing her back to camp, he’d scarcely joined her in the tent, not even to sleep, and she surmised that he’d been awake the whole time. That night, however, he laid down at her side when she was half-asleep, tucking himself in while giving her most of the room on the sleeping mat. Their backs were turned to one another, their blankets kept to themselves, but Nessa could feel his warmth as she slept restlessly.

She dreamed of old books and sailing ships and glistening treasures. She dreamed of blood and rain and hissing fanged snakes. She dreamed of Lapin, in Peter’s throne, with a golden crown on his head.

Once or twice, she thought she felt Lapin’s fur lightly brush her own, his hand on her arm or her side, but when she awoke early the next morning, they weren’t touching at all.

Nessa sat up slowly, bringing her hand to her wound. It still hurt when she touched it, but less than it had the day before. The next thing that occurred to her was she was hungry. Her stomach growled noisily, and she realized just how little she’d eaten the last two days. She wondered how long it would be before the bulls got up and started making breakfast.

Lapin shifted beside her, wrinkling his nose before opening his eyes. He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Good morning,” he said huskily.

Nessa glanced back only briefly. “Morning,” she murmured. It wasn’t her first time sleeping next to him, but that didn’t make seeing him like this any less strange. She was glad this arrangement was temporary; if it wasn’t, she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to it.

Her stomach growled again, and he chuckled as he propped himself up. “Hungry, are you?”

She happened to notice that, just like last time, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and turned away slightly. “A little.”

“And… how do you feel?”

Nessa stretched, wincing when her side throbbed a bit. “Still hurts. But it feels… better.”

He eyed her bandages thoughtfully. “Are you well enough to travel?”

She shrugged. “I guess I’ll know soon.”

“Hm.” Lapin slipped on his shirt, then got to his feet. “Can you stand?”

Nessa hesitated, then began to move, summoning her strength to stand. She rose unsteadily from the sleeping mat, wobbling a little, and saw that he had extended his hand to her. She looked at him once, then took it, and a moment later, she was standing fully upright with his help. Her side stung and her legs were dreadfully weak, but she felt surprisingly… fine. Fine enough to leave the tent, anyway.

“Thanks,” she said, letting go of his hand.

His ear twitched. “Let’s get you something to eat. Then we’ll see how you feel.”

^ ^ ^

The animals gathered around the campfire for a shared breakfast, and Nessa ate as much as she was able, eagerly making up for the meals she had missed while out of action.

She was surprised by the concern the others expressed for her; they asked many questions about her condition and how she was healing, and she answered them all as best as she could, still unsure how exactly she was going to fare as she recovered from her injury. As she talked and ate with them, she realized that in a way, she had actually missed their company. She remembered how they had all helped save her life, and an unusual sort of affection filled her heart.

Maybe they weren’t her friends—not exactly—but for now at least, they were her crew. And altogether, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

After breakfast, and a couple of rejuvenating exercises, Lapin—the closest thing she had to a doctor at the moment—determined that she was well enough to make the journey through the jungle, so long as she was aided by everyone present. Thus, the animals packed up the camp and began the trek back to the ship.

Nessa, despite her wound slowing her down, managed to keep up with the rest of the group, which was thankfully already moving more slowly to accommodate her. The crew stopped several times throughout the trip, and each time, she took a moment to rest and have her bandages checked or changed out by Lapin.

As the day wore on, she could feel herself growing weaker and weaker. She struggled more than usual to climb hills and slopes, but luckily, the other animals were there to assist her, namely Luther and Sylvie. By the end of the day, as the sun was sinking lower in the sky, her legs had given out, and Luther had agreed to carry her to the clearing where they intended to set up camp.

It occurred to her while she was riding on the gorilla’s shoulders that she had never properly thanked him for saving her from the mantis. Admittedly, she’d been hesitant; he was the guard she’d run away from that night, and reminding him that he’d unwittingly let her escape could very well strike a nerve with him. He had likely hurt himself during the fight with the mantis, too; she’d noticed a deep scratch on his upper arm. She didn’t want to agitate him.

Luther hadn’t treated her particularly coldly all day, though. In fact, he’d been rather kind, and had come to her aid multiple times. She decided it was only right to show her gratitude.

“Hey, Luther,” she said. “Thank you. For today, and… for the other night. You saved my life.”

The gorilla kept walking, not craning his neck to look at her as he went, but she knew he had heard her. He waited a few heartbeats before answering, “Don’t mention it, kid.”

Nessa smiled to herself, grateful.

That evening, after the tents were erected and the campfire started, Toro roasted whatever greens and fruits he and his brother could find in the jungle, and the animals ate once more by the fire’s soothing warmth. For the first time, Lapin himself ate with them, rather than taking his food to the privacy of his tent. Granted, he sat a little further from the rest of them and hardly uttered a word during the meal, but Nessa took notice of it nevertheless. She figured he simply meant to keep an eye on her. When he was finished eating, he promptly returned his plate to the bulls and looked towards Nessa.

“Let’s go inside,” he said to her. “I need to change those bandages one more time.”

Exhausted, and pleasantly full from dinner, Nessa made no attempt to argue with him and followed him into their shared tent. Inside, she sat down and lifted her shirt, holding it above her torso as he knelt and began to remove and replace the most recent bandages.

They’d performed this ritual several times by now, but it still made her fur prickle with heat whenever his hands made contact with her. It still bewildered her how careful he was with her, almost gentle. It already surprised her that he had medical knowledge at all; it didn’t seem like something someone like Lapin would bother to learn about, let alone remember and use in a time of need. But then there was the matter of her vulnerability; it made sense for him to bask in her helplessness, gloat or use this opportunity to humiliate her, but he had done no such thing since the incident. He was perfectly quiet while he worked, his expression concentrated, unreadable. If he was enjoying this—her relying on him so heavily and not resisting him—he wasn’t making it known.

That wasn’t like him. And she had no idea what to make of that.

Neither of them spoke for some time as he cleaned her wound. Wrapping new bandages around her waist, Lapin at last said, “By tomorrow evening, you should be able to bandage yourself.”

Nessa, who had been lost in thought, brought herself back to the present. She nodded. “Okay.”

That was good. That meant they wouldn’t have to be in such close proximity for much longer.

He finished with the bandages, sitting back and rising once again to shrug off his coat. Nessa turned away as he tugged his shirt up over his head and removed the belt from his pants. The fur on her face was warm.

Why was this all so intimate? Why did they have to share a tent like this and sleep in the same place and go to bed at the same time? Like they were— lovers or something? They weren’t lovers. They weren’t even friends. He was her captor, and she was his prisoner, even if he was acting like she was a part of his team now. If she wasn’t a prisoner, she could make her own decision on where she wanted to sleep. She could choose to sleep in the bigger tent with the others, or even sleep outside if she so pleased.

In truth, neither of those were preferable compared to the relative comfort of Lapin’s tent. But that wasn’t the point.

Lapin blew out the candle inside the lantern, then settled beside her on the sleeping mat. Not having much choice, Nessa did the same, pulling her blanket up to her chest. She missed her night clothes. She hated sleeping in her day clothes, but she refused to change in the same room as Lapin.

She laid her head back on her pillow, staring up at the tent ceiling. She closed her eyes, waiting for sleep to come, then Lapin spoke.

She’d expected him to bid her goodnight, but instead, he asked, “Are you afraid of me, pigeon?”

Nessa didn’t answer right away, puzzled by the question. Why ask her that? Why now?

His words hung in the air, and she laid there silently, pondering how to respond. She knew what she should say: of course she wasn’t. And in a way, that was true. She hadn’t been afraid of him the other night, even when his hand was around her throat and he could’ve killed her if he wanted to. There were many times she hadn’t been afraid, and his attempts to intimidate her had failed. She could see through him; he was deeply insecure, emotionally frail, however much he tried to cover that up with boastful remarks and demonstrations of his power. Understanding that helped quell much of her fear.

But that didn’t mean she was without fear. There were times when she truly was afraid, when she remembered he was a trained adventurer, and an experienced killer at that. When she was at his mercy, she couldn’t fight back; she could only run, and the few times she’d tried, she hadn’t succeeded at escaping him. But truthfully, it wasn’t his skill or his cunning that really frightened her. It was what else he was capable of.

Not killing, or guile, or fighting prowess. Administering first aid and emergency resuscitation. Offering his help—not just the medical kind—and showing patience. Being a true leader and taking charge in a crucial moment.

Demonstrating genuine compassion.

Lapin was capable of not being a monster. He was capable of stepping in and doing the right thing when he needed to, even when his motivations were selfish. He wasn’t always cruel and easy to hate; he’d proven as much over the last couple of days.

That was more frightening than anything else.

Nessa turned onto her side, facing the tent wall. “Yes,” she finally whispered.

Lapin was silent beside her, and she wondered, with a twinge of regret, if she had given him the answer he desired. That was exactly the kind of thing he’d want to hear. Why wouldn’t he want her to be afraid? He wanted her to be helpless, compliant; it was the easiest way he could keep his power over her. And surely he believed the best kings were feared by their subjects. She wondered if he was pleased. If he was smirking to himself.

Or maybe—unlikely as it was—her answer wasn’t the one he had wanted. Maybe he was offended. Even hurt.

But she banished that thought almost immediately.

Lapin shifted on the sleeping mat, his blanket moving with him, then he said evenly, “Goodnight.”

Nessa stared at the wall a moment longer, then let her eyes flutter closed. “Goodnight.”

^ ^ ^

By sunset the next day, the crew had returned to the ship.

It had barely been a week, but fortunately, they found it exactly as they had left it on the beach, and before long, the animals were setting a course for Ziman, a continent to the east—and the home of the second temple.

Nessa, feeling considerably stronger and better-rested, had fared mostly well on the journey through the jungle, and once she was back on the ship with the others, her first order of business had been to read from the Journal. Lapin had allowed her to look at it again without much fuss—he’d had enough time to get over her act of betrayal, it seemed—and under his supervision, she had quickly determined the location of the Eastern temple, Kimeri. According to Wilder’s notes, it was somewhere in the Scarlet Forest in Ziman’s mountains. She could only imagine what new challenges awaited them once they arrived—both in the landscape and the temple itself.

It would take three days to get there, and Nessa was oddly relieved to be back on the ship. She still wasn’t fond of sailing, and there was no denying the limited space the ship provided, but at least she had some time to rest without worrying about strenuous hikes and jungle beasts.

She stood by the rail that evening after dinner, studying the stars in the dark sky. The island of Maril was far behind them; now there was only ocean, stretching endlessly on all sides.

Her mind wandered to her family and friends. What were they doing now? Were they safe and sound in their beds? Were they thinking of her?

“Hey.”

Nessa looked to find Sylvie walking over, joining her and leaning against the rail. “Hey,” she said back.

“How’s the gash?” the cat asked.

Nessa touched her side; her pain had faded to a dull throb by now. “Better. Not as bad as it was.”

Sylvie nodded, her eyes on the water. “That’s good,” she said. “Looked… pretty nasty the last time I saw it.”

Nessa realized Sylvie hadn’t seen her wound since the night it had been inflicted. She tried not to think about what it had looked like then. “Yeah,” was all she said in reply.

Silence passed between the two of them. For a short time, all that could be heard was the crashing of waves and the faint creaking of the wooden ship, then Sylvie spoke. “I thought you were gonna die.”

She said it calmly, like it was a fact, but there was solemnity in her voice, and Nessa turned a little to look at her. She hadn’t really gotten to speak with Sylvie about the other night, not even on the trek back to the ship. She’d just assumed the cat had moved on from the whole thing, and had nothing to say about it. Evidently, she’d been wrong about that.

“Me too,” Nessa admitted, gazing down at the water below.

“I get why you ran off, though,” Sylvie said. “Guess I… probably would’ve done the same. Even if it was stupid.”

Nessa let out a soft chuckle, though the discussion wasn’t very humorous. “Well… clearly, I won’t be doing that again,” she murmured. “Not like I could if I wanted to, anyway.”

Sylvie flicked her tail. After another long moment, she said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Nessa looked over at her, taken aback. “For what?”

Sylvie shrugged, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I just—I know it hurt,” she said. “You were bleeding out, and the only reason you didn’t die is ‘cause Lapin—”

She cut herself off, but Nessa knew already. He gave me air. I know.

“Just… probably felt like shit,” Sylvie said. “All of it, I mean. That’s all.”

Nessa turned back towards the ocean. She wondered if Sylvie was apologizing for everything. Not just for the other night, for Lapin’s treatment of her, but for her whole situation, even—being taken from home and forced into this role. “It’s… not your fault.”

Sylvie shrugged again, almost as if she wasn’t sure she believed Nessa. “Guess not,” she muttered. A minute or two passed, then she asked, “What’ll you do now?”

Nessa kept her eyes on the stars. What kind of question was that? “Go to Ziman,” she said simply. “Get whatever piece of the treasure is next. Get Lapin to the Serpent’s Eye. Not much else I can do.”

Sylvie gave a thoughtful grunt. “Y’know,” she said, “Lapin doesn’t hate you.”

Nessa glanced at her.

“I mean, he’s an asshole,” the cat snorted. “And he’s got some issues. Daddy issues, mostly. But he’s…” She seemed to be searching for the right words. “I mean—he’s not as bad as you think. He… really tried to save you the other night. I’ve never seen him look like that.”

Hearing that affected Nessa more than she wanted to admit. Unbeknownst to Sylvie, she’d already been puzzling over that very same subject as of late. Even so, she scoffed. “He didn’t wanna lose his navigator. Good enough reason to save me.”

“Well, yeah—no shit,” Sylvie replied. “But I’m serious—he was scared. I could see it in his eyes.”

Scared. Lapin… scared? “Scared of losing his ticket to the Eye,” Nessa pointed out wryly.

“No—if it was just that, he’d just be pissed off,” was Sylvie’s response. “He was scared shitless. Guess he likes you more than he lets on.”

Heat rushed to Nessa’s cheeks. “He doesn’t like me.”

“Whoa, Bun-Bun, I wasn’t talking about that, ” Sylvie said with a laugh. “I mean, maybe, maybe not. He did kiss you, like—three times.”

Nessa’s face flushed even more. “To save my life!”

“I know, I know! I’m just messing with you.” Sylvie snickered. “Look—I’m not saying you have to like him. I’m just saying—he’s not the worst guy you’ll meet, okay? After the other night, he’s not gonna let anything else happen to you. I’m sure of that.”

Nessa’s ear twitched, and she looked away. She knew Sylvie was right, for a number of reasons. Lapin definitely wasn’t going to let anything happen to her; he’d made that much clear himself, more or less. He’d almost lost his precious navigator once already, and he would make sure there wasn’t a second time. He’d even treat her with a little more respect, just to ensure she wouldn’t run off and get killed. Because he still needed her.

Not because he cared about her.

“I know,” she said at last. She wasn’t going to outright agree with Sylvie’s opinions of Lapin. But she knew at least that he intended to protect her—even if he would still be using her the whole time.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Sylvie stretch and step back from the rail. “You should get some rest,” the cat said. “You comin’ downstairs?”

“I… think I’ll stay out a little longer,” Nessa responded. It was quiet on the deck. Almost peaceful.

“Suit yourself.” Sylvie yawned. “‘Night, Ness.”

Nessa heard her walk away and head down the stairs, taking note of the name the cat had used for her. Ness. Not Bun-Bun, not princess. Her own name. Still a nickname, but her name nonetheless.

It made her smile just a bit.

Chapter Text

After three days on the ocean, the crew finally reached the shores of Ziman.

Ziman was a massive continent, one of the largest on Earth—far too large to be considered an island like Verana. Nessa had never visited, naturally, but she’d studied it extensively, both in her time as a student and as a royal linguist. The continent was known for its lush green landscape and regal, ancient mountains, but more than that, it was known for being rich in culture. Ziman was the home of many kingdoms, not just one, and as such, there was a wealth of history, mythology, and archaeological findings. It was a place Nessa had long dreamed of visiting before she’d even joined the Royal Adventure Society.

She was here now, but unfortunately, not on an adventure of her choice.

The animals docked the ship in a cove near the port of Eika, a small seaside town. The old wolf living by the cove was initially opposed to them dropping anchor, but after a quick conversation with Lapin—and what Nessa suspected was a bribe of some kind—he was much more accommodating, and even pointed them in the direction of the Scarlet Forest. The forest itself was along the side of the Gara Mountains, and with Nessa reading from the map in the Journal, the animals set out for the Eastern Temple.

It became clear soon enough that the journey to Kimeri would be longer and even more arduous than the journey to Nevalaya. It took a day to reach the base of the Gara Mountains, then the crew had no choice but to begin what would be a week-long climb upward to the Scarlet Forest.

Fortunately, they had packed enough supplies to last throughout the trip, but little could be done to ease the difficulty of the trek, particularly for Nessa. She was still recovering from her wound, and the climb, while not technically treacherous, proved to be more than a challenge. The crew spent the first day on the mountain hiking uphill, over rivers and through forests, and Nessa forced herself to keep up with everyone, taking fewer breaks and pushing herself harder than she knew she ought to. Despite the relieving period of rest she’d gotten on the ship, she was not yet fully healed, but she refused to delay the journey any more than necessary.

The sooner they got to the second temple, the sooner this would all be over, and they could climb back down the mountain and move on.

Like last time, she traveled mostly at the head of the group with Lapin, reading from the Journal when it was needed. The other animals were chatty as usual behind them, but the hare himself spoke little to Nessa throughout the day, only breaking his silence here and there to consult with her on directions. Later that afternoon, however, he made the odd decision to strike up a conversation.

“So,” he said to her, clearing his throat, “I asked you once if you had a partner back in Featherbeard. You said no. Why is that?”

Nessa glanced at him, caught off-guard by the question. She remembered that exchange with him, and it was just as strange now as it had been then. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, it—it just doesn’t really make sense, now does it?” Lapin kept his eyes ahead, making an effort to appear nonchalant. “You’re—well—you’re a member of the Adventure Society. You’re… quite clever, well-read. Certainly you’ve… made connections.”

She furrowed her brows. “ Romantic connections?”

He shrugged, still not looking at her. His response told her that was a “Yes.”

She was puzzled, but she decided to answer anyway. There was nothing better to do. “I’m just… not really interested in that. Not right now. Always too much work to do.”

That wasn’t really relevant at the moment, considering her situation, but it was true nonetheless. That, and the fact that no animal, Adventure Society member or otherwise, had caught her attention in a long time.

“Mm. It’s just strange, I suppose,” he said. “From what I’ve observed, bunnies are usually married at your age.”

The skin under Nessa’s fur heated up. Why on Earth would he say something like that? “ Bunnies aren’t that different from hares,” she pointed out sharply.

Lapin’s ears flattened back—from annoyance or shame, she wasn’t sure. “I—I know that!”

Nessa rolled her eyes. “I have a career to focus on. I don’t need to get married anytime soon.”

Why had he even brought this up? Was he right back to trying to humiliate her again? If he saw bunnies as lesser than hares, it wouldn’t surprise her—he still had all the self-importance of a prince, after all—but it was certainly one way to piss her off.

Gods, he was impossible.

Lapin grunted. “That wasn’t what I meant,” he mumbled. “I was simply—” He cut himself off, his ear twitching. “Oh, never mind.”

He shut his mouth, and Nessa kept hers shut as well. Neither of them spoke to one another for the rest of the day.

^ ^ ^

By the end of the first day, Nessa was thoroughly out of breath, and the crew unanimously decided to make camp for the night in a quiet glen. She took a seat on a nearby stump, grateful to rest her aching body while the bulls set up the tents and Sylvie started a fire.

She sipped from the canteen she’d brought with her, the cold water soothing her throat. She was exhausted and hungry, and she was pretty sure she smelled. When was the last time she’d gotten to bathe? Oh, how she missed the bath back in her room in the palace…

“Nessa.”

She looked over to find Lapin approaching her, his hands behind his back, and she turned away, frowning. It hadn’t been that long since their squabble earlier, and her irritation still lingered. Great. What does he want now?

He stopped a few feet from her. After several heartbeats, he asked, “How… are you feeling?” He paused. “Your—injury, I mean.”

Nessa relaxed a little. It didn’t seem like he was here to start another argument. “I’m fine,” she answered brusquely. “Just tired.”

“Hm. Nothing’s… opened up?”

“No.”

“I see.” He shuffled his feet slightly, as if uncomfortable. “Well, in any case, I—wanted to discuss sleeping arrangements.”

Sleeping arrangements? Her first instinct was to be irked. Why discuss that? Wasn’t she going to sleep in his tent like always, so he could “keep an eye” on her?

“I am… certain by now that you’re not going to, well—run off again,” Lapin said in a low voice. “That being said, I won’t… require you to sleep in my tent anymore. You may… sleep in the communal tent, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

Nessa looked up, perplexed. Wait… what? Was he actually letting her choose where she wanted to sleep?

“My tent will… still be available to you, if you so decide,” Lapin added somewhat awkwardly. “I’m merely saying that—well, you can take your pick of the two.”

She understood what he was saying, but that didn’t make her any less surprised. She would’ve thought he’d be more concerned than ever that she’d run away, especially after recent events. She’d expected him to be breathing down her neck the whole trip, keeping the sleeping arrangements exactly the same as before. Why now had he changed his mind and decided to show her some leniency?

It was ultimately because of her wound, she supposed. She really couldn’t run away again, even if she wanted to; she’d be in the camp or around the others at all times, and for that reason, Lapin didn’t need to watch her as closely. It made sense.

She still hadn’t expected it, though.

“Thanks,” she finally said. “I’ll, um… decide later.”

Lapin nodded. “Very well.” He turned on his heels. “Rest for now. Dinner will be soon, I imagine.”

Nessa said nothing back, watching him walk to his tent and disappear inside it.

She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t given him an answer right away. Obviously, if it was up to her—and it was now—she would choose the communal tent, right? It was crowded and probably stank, but she wouldn’t have to share a sleeping mat anymore with the man who had kidnapped her. She wouldn’t have to feel the warmth coming off of him, or risk rolling over onto him or brushing noses with him while she slept. She could at least make the choice to sleep somewhere else. And she should choose to. Why shouldn’t she?

She pushed away the thought for the time being. Once she’d gotten some rest and eaten some food, she’d be able to think more rationally.

^ ^ ^

Later that evening, Nessa went to find Lapin after dinner.

“I’ll stay in your tent,” she told him, meeting his gaze squarely. “But I want my own sleeping mat. Just… something to sleep on.”

Lapin was silent, and she wondered if he hadn’t been expecting her decision. She was half-prepared for him to argue with her about not even having a separate sleeping mat, but then he gave her a hint of a nod and replied, “Alright.”

He set up another mat for her inside his tent; it wasn’t the same material as his—it was more like a thick blanket being used as a crude sleeping mat—but it would serve her just fine. He arranged it on the other side of the tent, several feet from his own. The mats were close to one another, but not close enough to touch, and Nessa already felt more at ease.

Before long, the two of them were settling in for the night, and although she was still sore and sweaty and longing for some clean clothes, she was oddly comfortable. As much as she could be given the circumstances, anyway.

Lapin blew out the candle. “Goodnight.”

Nessa drew her blanket up to her shoulders. “Goodnight.”

She closed her eyes, and the tent was quiet—even peaceful. She could feel herself drifting off, and she was ready to welcome the embrace of sleep.

Many minutes passed. She thought she heard a soft voice. “Pigeon?”

She didn’t respond, already half-asleep. She shifted on her mat, sure that she was dreaming.

There was a soft, heavy sigh, then the voice spoke again, its words barely audible. “I’m sorry.”

^ ^ ^

The week wore on, and the animals climbed higher and higher up the mountain.

On the second day, Lapin spoke to Nessa even less than the day before. She didn’t take offense to it; in fact, it was a bit of a relief. He hadn’t apologized to her for their argument; for a second, she thought she’d heard it last night, but she was certain it had only been a dream. Lapin would never apologize for anything, not sincerely, and she’d made peace with that unfortunate truth. It was better to act like that awkward conversation had never happened, anyway.

By the time they were making camp that evening, Nessa was fed up with her unsatisfactory odor and declared she was going to take a bath in the nearby river. She didn’t have any soap, let alone anything to really wash herself with, but she didn’t care. She just needed to feel even slightly clean before she could go to sleep that night.

“Fine,” Lapin agreed, after previously arguing it was unsafe to leave the clearing. “Sylvie, you can go with her. Make sure she doesn’t drown.”

Nessa shot him a glare on her way out.

She washed herself in the river to the best of her ability, all while Sylvie stood guard by the shore. Nessa had insisted the cat keep her back turned; she and Sylvie were something akin to friends now, but that didn’t mean she was anywhere near that comfortable with her.

“So,” Sylvie said at one point. “Lapin’s tent, huh?”

Nessa snorted, cleaning out her ears. “Bug off. There’s more space.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” the cat replied. “Sleeping in the big tent is like sleeping inside a dumpster. You know Lenny and Toro fart in their sleep? Like, incessantly?”

A laugh tumbled out of Nessa at full force. She covered her mouth. “Oh, gods. Of course they do.”

“Yeah, they’re lethal. And don’t get me started on Luther’s—it’s like rotting fruit or something. Fuckin’ reeks. ”

Nessa half-gagged, half-laughed. “Oh gods, no. That’s disgusting.”

“And that’s why I sleep outside half the time. Night watch is the only escape. I don’t know how Barry does it. He sleeps right in the danger zone.”

Nessa laughed more and more, so much she could barely breathe. “ Please stop—honestly, I’m trying to bathe here…”

^ ^ ^

On the third day, it rained.

The rain was heavy, relentless, turning the ground slick and muddy, and the group had no choice but to stop many times just to escape the downpour. Nessa quickly regretted choosing to bathe the day before, needing a bath now more than ever. By sunset, her pants were caked in mud and grime, her feet aching and slimy and her spirits dangerously low. Lapin, who had been even more irritable than anyone else all day, insisted they find a cave of some kind to make camp and take shelter from the rain, and after much struggle, the animals were finally able to locate one.

A fire was lit—an unfortunately small one—and the crew all huddled around it to try and dry off. It wasn’t big enough to cook much, so the animals were forced to eat whatever food was available. Nessa, weary and shivering, ate some of the nuts and berries she’d picked the day before. It wasn’t a proper meal, but it was enough to restore some of her strength.

Later that night, most of the crew members opted to sleep around the meager fire, unwilling to leave its warmth even for a little while. Nessa herself chose to join them, feeling too disgusting to try and settle into her makeshift bed for the night. Lapin, however, had made an effort to erect his own tent, and had scarcely left it since dinner; clearly, he still intended to sleep in private.

Nessa curled into a ball next to the flames, praying to fall asleep and get some real rest. She’d been shaking nonstop for the last few hours, and she wasn’t sure if she was just cold or if she was becoming feverish. She desperately hoped it wasn’t the latter; the last thing she needed was to get sick on this journey.

She couldn’t help wishing she had a blanket. Even by the fire, she was freezing, her soaked cardigan abandoned to one side of the cave and her shirt still dreadfully damp, clinging to her fur. The coldness of the hard cave floor didn’t help, either.

She kept her eyes shut. Just go to sleep. Go to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.

But still, she couldn’t seem to sleep, and remained awake well into the night, uneasily shifting back and forth in the cold. Eventually, the fire went out, and she was shivering even more. She wondered if she would ever sleep again.

Then, unexpectedly, something dry, something warm, came over her.

Nessa opened her eyes weakly and touched her shoulder, feeling something there that had not been there before: a blanket. Confused, she lifted her head just slightly, searching the cave for the one who had covered her—but everyone around her was fast asleep, and Lapin surely was, too, inside his tent.

She lowered her head and let her eyes flutter closed once more. She drew the blanket around herself, cherishing its warmth.

It was not much longer before she finally, finally fell asleep.

^ ^ ^

On the fourth day, it rained again, though thankfully not nearly as much.

The improved weather and a decent night’s rest had restored the energy of most of the animals, though Lapin remained more or less as prickly as usual. As the crew climbed higher up the mountain, the ground grew more rocky and uneven, not helped by the lingering mud from the day before. It was a literal uphill battle for everyone to keep a steady ascent, and Nessa in particular struggled to endure. 

Yesterday’s ordeal had left her with something of a cold, one that worsened as the day progressed, and on top of that, there was a persistent, throbbing pain in her side, agitating her and slowing her down. That afternoon, when the group stopped for a break, she checked her unusually stained bandages, and found that her stitches had torn; the trip was delayed until Lapin could fix them. He paid close attention to her for the rest of the journey, and insisted everyone stop several more times so he could ensure the stitches were intact; neither of these things went unnoticed by Nessa.

She wondered how she would be faring if Lapin wasn’t a surprisingly adequate doctor.

Oh, right. She’d probably be dead.

That night, at the camp, Nessa felt uncomfortably warm, her side still throbbing from earlier, and only managed to stomach some of the soup the bulls made for dinner. She excused herself to Lapin’s tent early, hoping to try and sleep off whatever had come over her. She couldn’t be sick. She didn’t want to be sick. She wanted all of this to be over.

She wanted to go home.

Sleep did not come easily. No matter what she did, she was always too hot, or too cold, and her wound wouldn’t stop hurting. She tossed back and forth on her sleeping mat, wishing she were anywhere but here. She missed the palace. Her room. Her bed. Being clean and healthy and safe.

Sometime later, she heard the tent opening rustle, and she saw Lapin enter, holding a canteen. Moving cautiously, he came to her sleeping mat and lowered himself to her level, placing the canteen near her head. “I have some water,” he said quietly. “Are you… alright?”

Nessa grimaced, turning her head away. How could he even ask her that? Everything was awful. Everything hurt—inside and outside. She was exhausted and miserable—and his presence was quickly transforming that misery into anger.

“No,” she muttered. “No, I’m not.”

He avoided looking at her. “You’re… not used to traveling,” he murmured. “You probably caught a cold from the rain yesterday, and your wound is, well… weakening you. I don’t believe it’s gotten infected, but your state certainly isn’t helping you heal. You should have some more of that tonic. I was hoping to save it for another emergency, but I believe you need it now.”

Nessa’s voice came out soft and frail. “Take me home.”

Lapin’s ears fell back. “I… no. You… know that’s not possible.”

Her heart hardened. “Take me home, ” she repeated, more bitterly this time. “You did this to me.”

He hesitated before speaking. “We’ll go home when… all of this is over.”

Tears bubbled in Nessa’s eyes. “I want to go home,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t be here. I hate this.” She was too sick, too frustrated to care about what she was saying. “I hate you.”

A long, deafening silence passed between them. Then Lapin said softly, “I know.”

She pulled her blanket tighter around herself, blinking away her tears. “Leave me alone.”

She waited for him to argue, to snap at her about the tent being his, lose his temper over something, anything. But to her surprise, he said nothing, and she heard him rise to his feet, walking back towards the tent opening.

The last thing he said before leaving the tent was a solemn, “I’m sorry.”

That time, she was sure she wasn’t dreaming.

Chapter Text

As the night wore on, Nessa’s condition worsened.

Feverish and exhausted, she jerked in and out of uneasy sleep, plagued with nightmares and other strange, confusing dreams. Visions of blood-splattered leaves. Torrential rain and landslides. Giant mantises that picked her up and threw her, shattering her bones and tearing her open. All night long, she was writhing back and forth on her sleeping mat, fighting off nausea and sickly heat.

She was sure she’d never felt so terrible in her life.

A few times, she thought she heard Lapin speak to her. He encouraged her to drink water, but she couldn’t seem to do it. He remained by her side all night, routinely assessing her, and she sensed his presence even when she was asleep.

She didn’t want him there. She wanted him to leave her alone, just like she’d said, but she was too weak to protest. She let him check her bandages every so often, let him put a cool palm on her forehead. As the hours passed, his warmth close by became a familiarity, one she came to expect when she woke up from one turbulent dream after another.

It became… almost comforting.

Eventually, the pain of it all became too much. Half-asleep, Nessa could only whimper softly, tears in her eyes, as she suffered. Lapin was on his feet at once, fetching something from the other side of the tent before returning to her.

“I need you to drink this,” he murmured, leaning over her with a glass bottle.

She shook her head pitifully. She didn’t want to drink whatever it was. She didn’t want anything in her body.

“Pigeon,” he said more firmly. “It’s the tonic. It’ll make you feel better. Come on.”

“N-No,” she said weakly.

He brought the bottle to her mouth. “Just drink, ” he said. “Please.”

She pulled away, shaking her head again.

Lapin made a soft sound of frustration, then collected himself. “Nessa, please, ” he urged. “This—this isn’t a game. You have to get better.”

She shut her eyes, still resisting.

He let out a growl, raising his voice. “Listen to me. I need you. Don’t you understand? ”

In her frail state, Nessa couldn’t fully grasp the weight of his words. She understood well enough what he meant; he needed her as his guide, to lead them all to the Eye. She didn’t care about any of that. She didn’t want to help him, or any of them. But there was something about the way he was speaking that tugged at her. Something about the way his plea was phrased. It didn’t feel like he was just talking about the mission.

It didn’t feel as simple as that anymore.

She surrendered. She allowed herself to relax, opening her mouth just slightly. With a sigh of relief, Lapin propped up her chin and eased the liquid through her parted lips. Nessa coughed, cringing at the tonic’s foul taste.

“I know, I know,” he said. “Be calm. Just drink.”

She drank as much as she was able, then settled back onto her pillow, her eyelids fluttering. It felt like her insides were on fire, the liquid stinging in her throat and her stomach, but she had no strength left to keep herself awake anymore. With a pained moan, she drifted off.

I need you.

I need you.

Those words echoed in her mind. Nessa was back on the ship, standing by the rail, overlooking the ocean once more. The moon hung high in the black sky, casting a pearlescent glow on the water. It was so quiet, so serene, and the evening breeze ruffled her fur, caressing her ears.

“Nessa.”

She turned, and Lapin was beside her, his dark eyes on her. Unexpectedly, he reached out, bringing his hand to the side of her face, and a warm sensation ran through her. He brushed her cheek with his thumb, searching her gaze. She couldn’t quite read his expression; he was calm, neither happy nor angry. Lost in thought.

He took a small step closer to her, and she couldn’t look away. “Don’t ever leave me again,” he said in a murmur.

Nessa opened her eyes.

She was cold. So cold. She wrapped her blanket around herself, fighting to keep herself warm, but it wasn’t enough. She shivered and shivered. It wouldn’t stop.

She rolled over shakily, and found Lapin sitting not far from her, his head hanging as he slept. She felt something take hold of her heart, gripping it tight. He hadn’t left her side even after all this time. She wondered how he could even sleep like that.

“L-Lapin,” she whispered, without thinking.

His bad ear twitched, and a heartbeat later, he was stirring. Lapin lifted his head, blinking rapidly. “Pigeon?”

“Help—me,” Nessa uttered, shaking under her blanket. “Please. It’s s-so cold.”

He furrowed his brow, inching forward. He let his palm rest on her forehead, and she shuddered. “You’re still feverish,” he said quietly. “It’ll pass. You’ll be alright.”

No. That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“Please,” she whispered. She didn’t know what she was asking him for, but it didn’t matter. “Keep—keep me warm. Please.”

Lapin stared at her, stunned. “You…” he started to say, trailing off. “You want—you want me to…?”

“Please,” she said again. As he pulled his hand from her forehead, she took it in her own. “Please. So—so cold.”

His hand was so warm. So warm.

He looked away, his expression puzzled, conflicted. But he did not let go of her hand. After a long moment, a look of understanding, acceptance, crossed his features, and he finally answered her. “... Alright.”

Shifting closer, Lapin settled down on the sleeping mat beside her, moving carefully, a little awkwardly. Nessa instinctively rolled onto her side, letting him position himself against her back; the second his warmth made contact with her, a shiver rippled through her—and she wasn’t entirely certain it was because of the cold.

They fit together better than she’d thought.

She felt his breath on her neck fur. He lifted his arms from his sides, guiding them to wrap tentatively around her. One hand came to rest on her stomach, the other under her pillow. “Is this… alright?” he asked softly.

Nessa didn’t answer. No longer trembling, she was already falling back asleep.

^ ^ ^

When Nessa awoke, she was nestled in the crook of Lapin’s neck.

Realizing where she was, shock struck her. For a heartbeat, she thought they’d gotten too close by accident, just like that one time—but then she remembered they slept on separate mats now, and that could never happen anymore. It hit her.

She’d asked him for this. Last night, in a moment of weakness, desperate to keep warm. And he’d… agreed. He’d laid down with her, just like that. Held her all through the night.

He was still holding her now, his heart beating steadily beneath the chest she was resting on.

Nessa wanted to be horrified, disgusted. She hated him, didn’t she? The thought of being close to him like this should make her ill—more ill than she already was. He didn’t get to touch her. He didn’t get to hold her, comfort her, like he was someone who cared about her and someone she cared about in turn. She didn’t care about him. She didn’t even like him.

So why couldn’t she pull away from him?

Lapin shifted against her, slowly waking up, and she felt a jolt of fear. What was going to happen when he saw her like this? She thought about drawing back, breaking free of his embrace so it would look like this had never happened, but his arms were still wrapped around her. One of his hands slid sleepily down her back as he stirred.

“Pigeon?” she heard him mumble, his voice a low rasp.

Nessa kept her head down, her fur hot and her heart pounding. She didn’t want to look at him. Maybe if she pretended she was still asleep…

His hand was at the back of her head just then, stroking idly, and she couldn’t help but look up. Lapin’s eyes were half-open, still heavy with sleep, and he gazed at her with equal surprise and concern. “Good… morning,” he said after a moment.

She was unbearably warm. She wanted to hide from him, hide from those piercing violet eyes, but she didn’t move. “...Good morning.”

He hesitated before asking, “How do you… feel?”

How do I feel? How do I FEEL? She was feeling a hundred things at once, but she knew he had to be asking about her physical state.

Nessa paused. She… didn’t feel anything. A dull throb in her side, the kind she’d felt every day since her encounter with the mantis, but… she wasn’t sick at all. Not anymore.

The tonic had worked its magic once again.

“I… feel good,” she murmured. “Better.”

“Not… sick?”

“No,” she said. “The tonic, it… must have helped.” She met his eyes, suddenly filled with gratitude. Her next words were leaving her seemingly on their own. “...Thank you."

Lapin turned his head to one side, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “I… only did what had to be done.”

There was a pang in Nessa’s chest, one she couldn’t quite interpret. She didn’t need to thank him—not necessarily. He was to blame for at least some of her suffering; that couldn’t be denied. And yet he’d made an effort to make it up to her—watching her tirelessly all night, nursing her back to health. She could still be grateful for that.

Couldn’t she?

She uncurled her hand and propped herself up just a bit, still leaning over him. She inched a little closer, her heart racing now. Lapin turned his attention back to her.

“Thank you,” she said again, looking straight into his eyes.

He was silent, and for many heartbeats, neither of them spoke. Nessa felt his hand apply pressure to her lower back, bringing her closer to him, and he raised his head. Their noses were so close, they were almost touching, and she could smell the musky, piney scent clinging to his fur.

Lapin glanced at her lips, parting his own as if in a trance. “Pigeon…”

Nessa leaned in, her eyelids growing heavy. Why did they feel so heavy?

She didn’t know what was happening; all she knew was that she was here, and so was he, and perhaps there was nothing else in the world that mattered, nothing at all outside their tent.

At that moment, the tent opening rustled, and Nessa snapped out of her stupor, jumping back from Lapin as a familiar face appeared.

“Oh, shit!” Sylvie exclaimed, ducking back and letting the curtain fall shut. Standing just outside the tent, she cleared her throat. “Sorry, sorry. Just—just wanted to check on you, Ness.”

Nessa sat back, trying to regain her composure. “I’m fine—just fine, thank you!” she called.

Oh gods. Oh gods. Sylvie had seen them.

“Uh—all better?” the cat asked.

“Yes—all better,” Nessa responded quickly.

“Good, good. Well, uh—breakfast should be ready soon. Just—thought I should let you know.”

Nessa had never felt more relieved to hear Sylvie walk away. She stared at her feet, wishing she could hide behind her ears.

What the fuck just happened?

“Well,” Lapin finally said, breaking the awkward silence, “we should, er—be getting ready. If you’re… well enough to travel, that is.”

Nessa didn’t look at him. “I… should be fine.”

She heard him rise from the sleeping mat and pick up his coat, slipping it on. “You’re sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered in a low voice. “We—we have to keep moving.”

Lapin didn’t reply right away. “Yes,” he said. “Right. Of course—we can’t risk any more delays.” He came to a halt at the tent opening. “Are you… hungry?”

Nessa’s face was burning. Please just leave. “I’ll, um…. eat something. In a minute. I need to… get dressed.”

“Right,” he said. “Right. Of course. Take your… time. All the time you need.”

He straightened his coat a little hurriedly, then left the tent without another word. Alone now, Nessa collapsed onto the sleeping mat, wanting to scream.

^ ^ ^

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The word replayed in Nessa’s head all morning. Because she was stupid. Astoundingly stupid.

Lapin was her captor. He was the one who’d taken her from home, away from her friends and family and the Adventure Society. Forced her on this ridiculous journey and gotten her sick and injured, albeit indirectly. He was the reason for all the pain and misery she’d endured the last couple weeks—and for that, she was supposed to hate him. Gods, the last thing she should want to do was be closer to him. Let him hold her, cuddle her like he was—like he was her boyfriend or something!

Why on Earth had she made that request? Why had he fulfilled it, without complaint or even any smugness? But more than that, why hadn’t she pulled away from him earlier, once they’d both woken up? Why had she leaned in like that? Like she wanted to…

No. She did not want to kiss him.

Lapin was many things—intelligent, resourceful, even handsome, though she would never say so aloud. But he was not a good man. Just because he’d saved her life and been treating her a little more nicely didn’t mean anything had changed—including her feelings towards him. It didn’t mean she was attracted to him. And despite how he’d been looking after her lately, she didn’t owe him anything. Not closeness, not affection.

Especially not a kiss. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve anything

She just needed to put this out of her mind.

Nessa was mostly successful ignoring her… irritating thoughts about Lapin, even as she spent the next two days traveling side by side with him at the head of the group. The hare was blessedly reserved for much of the first day, and made no mention of their shared moment in the tent. That afternoon, however, when the crew stopped for some water, Sylvie broached the subject.

“So what was that?” she asked Nessa behind a tree, a good distance from Lapin. “In the tent. You and Lapin.”

Nessa almost choked on her water. She wiped her mouth, hot with embarrassment. “Nothing. That was nothing.”

“Didn’t look like nothing,” the cat remarked. “Something happen last night?”

Nessa flattened her ears back. “ Nothing happened,” she insisted, keeping her voice hushed. “I was sick, and I was cold, and I was delirious, and I—I asked him to keep me warm. That’s all it was.”

“Really? You asked him that?” Sylvie regarded her curiously. “I thought you hated him.”

Nessa hesitated. Her first instinct was to say “Of course I do.” But if she was being honest with herself, frighteningly, she wasn’t so sure that was true anymore. She wanted to hate him. It was better to hate him than to feel any other sort of way about him.

She sighed. “I don’t know. I do. But he’s not…” She looked away, struggling to find the words. “He’s not… always terrible.”

Sylvie made an amused sound. “Now you get it.”

Nessa said nothing else in response.

That evening, she and Lapin hardly spoke, except to bid each other goodnight. Nessa was grateful to shut her eyes and let sleep take her; the waking world was so troublesome. But when she left that world behind, she entered a new one—a familiar one. She dreamed she was back on the ship, and Lapin was there, like he’d been before. He cupped her cheek and tilted her head up, and she could feel her heart beating faster, faster as he leaned close…

Then she woke up before his lips touched her own.

It was more difficult the following day not to think about him. The higher the group climbed, the more she found her mind wandering, and her eyes for that matter. She caught herself glancing at Lapin more than usual, studying the way he moved, the way he was built. He wasn’t particularly fit, or attractive—not conventionally, anyway—but he was certainly… interesting to look at.

He was slender, maybe a touch undernourished, but strong. He never really looked tired, even when the animals had been climbing all day and were ready to pass out. Nessa supposed he was used to the ardor of journeys like these, but it was just as likely that he was keeping up appearances. Making an effort to look regal, powerful; carrying himself like a king, essentially. He refused to let himself be seen as weak—that was clear enough.

He was surprisingly well-groomed, and she’d noticed that he never really smelled unpleasant. She wondered how that was possible, when he’d bathed just as little as everyone else as of late. And then there were his ears. Oh, that one bad ear—supposedly the source of ridicule when he was younger, the source of his resentment for the world. It wasn’t even a bad ear; it worked just fine. Why he’d been bullied for one ear being slightly bent—if he really had been bullied—was beyond her. It wasn’t such a big deal. It was actually pretty cute.

No, no. Not cute. Cute was not a word that could be used for Lapin.

To keep her mind off of him, and all other intrusive thoughts that popped into her head, Nessa instead threw herself into analyzing the Journal, scouring Wilder’s notes for anything useful. They were closer than ever now to Kimeri; by tomorrow afternoon, they would reach the Scarlet Forest, and there they would find the second temple.

She had no plans this time. No tricks or lies. She knew even less about Kimeri than Nevalaya, but regardless, there was nothing she could do to keep Lapin from getting the next piece of the treasure. Trying to deceive him before hadn’t gotten her anywhere.

The only thing to do now was to let the temple’s trials play out. And naturally, try to survive whatever was coming.

^ ^ ^

The Scarlet Forest, the animals discovered, was appropriately named.

It was a vast woodland spread out along the mountainside, its trees tall and thin with pale, rosy trunks and bright red leaves like those of a maple. According to locals, and Wilder himself, the trees kept their leaves year-round, much like evergreens; whether this was nature or the supernatural, no one quite knew for sure.

But one thing was certain—it was a truly breathtaking place.

Nessa, flanked by Lapin and Sylvie, led the crew deep into the forest, searching for a clearing Wilder described in the Journal. That afternoon, with the sun still high in the sky, they at last stumbled across it.

The clearing was large, with a wide pool of clear water encircled by trees. A straight path of round stones ran across the pool, leading to the entrance of what could only be the temple of Kimeri.

The temple itself, its front pillars made of rose-colored wood, was embedded into the side of the mountain, its entrance sheltered under a red awning with curved edges. There were two statues on either side of the opening, each one a serpent coiled around a tall stone block.

Nessa examined the open page in the book; the scribbled drawing Wilder had made matched the appearance of the temple. “This is it,” she said. “Kimeri.”

“Kimeri,” Lapin echoed, stepping closer to the pool. He bent low, observing the water. “Completely unmoving. Fascinating.”

He led the group across the pool, advising everyone to be careful not to fall in. At the temple entrance, he halted to address the animals.

“There are too many of us here. We can’t all go in, or we’ll be slowed down.” He pointed to one of the bull brothers. “Lenny. Stay out here and stand guard with Luther. Toro, you’ll come with us. We might need muscle.”

Lenny and Luther nodded and took their places.

“The rest of you,” Lapin said, “follow me.”

Nessa cast one last look over her shoulder at the two guards, then followed close behind Lapin as the remaining crew members headed into the temple.

The opening gave way into a tunnel inside the mountain, one that appeared to travel steadily downward. Though it was much brighter and more spacious than the last tunnel she’d been in, the walls lit up by shining glowworms, she still felt herself tensing inside the enclosed space. Needing a distraction, she grabbed one of the glowworms and held it up to her current Journal page. She scanned the notes; at least Wilder could tell her something about what lay ahead.

She settled on one particular note—two sentences, in the middle of the page. It took her a minute to translate.

BEWARE THE CHAMBER OF CIRCLES. PULL THE DRAINPLUG, EMPTY THE ROOM.

Drainplug? What was he talking about? Wilder’s warning confused her as much as it unsettled her.

“Are you alright?”

Nessa looked up. Lapin’s eyes were on her, concern in them. Her heart skipped a beat, for reasons she didn’t understand. “I’m fine,” she answered. “I just—don’t like tunnels.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “It shouldn’t be much longer.”

He knew. He must have remembered how she’d been at the first temple. She’d honestly expected him to forget.

“And… your injury?” he asked.

“It’s, um—it’s okay.”

“Got somethin’ down here!” Barry called from up ahead.

Nessa and Lapin both turned towards the duck, who had flown to the end of the tunnel. There was an unusually bright light not far ahead, and the two of them, along with Sylvie and Toro, quickened their pace ever so slightly to catch up with Barry. The moment they stepped out of the tunnel and into a new part of the temple, Nessa’s jaw fell open.

They had just entered an utterly massive room, enormous and egg-shaped with a glass ceiling through which sunlight was gleaming. The walls were rose-gold in color, countless patterns of circular symbols etched into the stone. There were symbols on the floor as well, and when Nessa stepped further in, she realized that each circle was an individual snake, swallowing its own tail. She was immediately reminded of the tale of the Serpent God.

She opened up the Journal once more, returning to the page she’d been studying.

BEWARE THE CHAMBER OF CIRCLES.

This room—or rather, chamber—was filled with circles. There was no doubt this was what Wilder had been talking about. Unease fell over her.

Sylvie looked around, mystified. “What is this?”

“Incredible,” Lapin marveled. “It’s a part of the mountain, yet you can see the sunlight shining through. This room is far bigger than any of us can comprehend.”

Nessa had a terrible feeling. At any other time, a place like this, so full of light and architectural beauty, might fill her with wonderment, but Wilder’s warning was fresh in her mind. There were no openings or doors she could see, nothing that could possibly lead them out of this room and into the next part of the temple.

She couldn’t seem to find a way out, other than through the tunnel they’d just used.

“Something’s not right,” she said, moving closer to the center of the chamber. There was a round platform in the middle of the floor, about the size of a firepit. She thought for a second that it could be another tunnel of some kind, one that went straight down; when she peered into it, though, she found that there was something heavy on top of it—almost like an oversized cork.

Like… a drainplug.

She didn’t know what it meant yet, or what had to be done, but she had to say something. “Wilder said something about this,” Nessa called to the others. “He said ‘Beware the chamber of circles.’ This has to be it. He said we need to—”

She was interrupted by the floor shuddering all of a sudden, the walls shuddering along with it, and she nearly fell over before she caught herself. Lapin, Sylvie and Toro stood alert, their heads darting wildly from side to side, and Barry, who had been flying around overhead, came down to land with a startled expression. “Whoa, what’s goin’ on?” he demanded.

Nessa couldn’t speak. It was as if the whole room was shaking. Suddenly, a solid door emerged to seal up the tunnel opening, blocking off their only exit. Jets of water spurted from pipe-like openings around the chamber, rushing across the floor towards the five of them. Before she knew it, there was water pooling at her feet, and with horror, she understood what was happening.

It wouldn’t be long before the entire chamber was filled with water.

Chapter Text

No. No, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

If there was one thing that terrified Nessa more than enclosed spaces, it was drowning. She fought to keep herself from panicking. They had to do something now—and fast.

“What in the blazes is going on?” Lapin demanded.

“What the—Where the fuck did this water come from?” Sylvie snarled.

Nessa’s eyes fell on the center platform. The cork-like plug inside it was attached to a long chain, one that stretched across the floor to a fixture on the wall. There was no doubt in her mind that it was a drainplug—and under that drainplug was their only way out of this room.

“We need to pull this,” she shouted, pointing to it. “It’s a drainplug. If we pull it out, it’ll empty the chamber before it fills with water.”

Lapin stared at the pooling water, then at her. “Are you sure? ”

“Wilder said so,” she responded quickly. “We all need to do it. Now! ”

Stuffing the book into her bag, she reached for the chain. It was huge, three times the size of a normal chain, and she knew the second she started pulling that she couldn’t possibly move the heavy drainplug without help. She pulled as hard as she could, straining her muscles, but it wouldn’t budge. The water was rising rapidly, up to her knees now, and she tried not to look at it.

“Everyone, help her! ” Lapin ordered, splashing towards her to take hold of the chain. “Toro, we need you the most. Get over here!”

Toro was still a good distance away, the water already up above his short legs and slowing him down. He struggled to get closer, then suddenly, he lost his footing, tumbling over with a heavy splash. Nessa continued to pull the chain, waiting for him to stand back up, but he couldn’t seem to get all the way on his feet. Her heart was hammering. Was he okay? Did he know how to swim?

Lapin growled. “We don’t have time for this!” He pulled on the chain along with Nessa, and a few seconds later, Barry joined in, tugging as best as he could with his winged hands. “Sylvie!” the hare urged. “ Now! ”

Sylvie, looking uncharacteristically frightened, made it to the center of the chamber. She seemed frazzled, her fur standing on end, and Nessa wondered if she was afraid of water. The cat took the chain, contributing her own strength; the drainplug shifted even more, but it still wasn’t enough. The opening remained covered.

“Shit,” Sylvie swore. “Come on, Toro, come on!”

“Can he swim?” Nessa asked hurriedly.

“Not that great,” Sylvie answered. “Shit, shit. We’re gonna die in here. We’re gonna die.”

“Shut up!” Lapin snapped. “We are not going to die! Keep pulling!”

Nessa did as she was told, but she could hardly keep her panic at bay any longer. The water was up to her chest now, seeping through her clothes, her bag. She saw Toro wading towards them, but he was a feeble swimmer, his massive upper body weighing him down. By the time he made it to them—if he made it at all—their heads would already be underwater.

“Harder!” Lapin commanded. “Everyone pull harder! Any moment now, we’ll all have to hold our breath!”

“ Hurry, Toro!” Sylvie yowled.

Nessa pulled and pulled, despairing. She couldn’t believe this was real. She couldn’t believe she was in an ancient temple, up to her chin in water, about to drown. It was so high now, she could feel it wetting her neck fur. Barry was already underwater.

This had to be a nightmare.

“Everyone, hold your breath!” Lapin yelled. “Whatever you do, keep pulling! Do not let go of the chain!”

Nessa sucked in the biggest breath she could muster and shut her eyes just as she was completely submerged.

Her eyes shot open. All the symbols on the floor and walls had lit up, allowing her to see what was happening. Half of the chamber was underwater, including her allies, each one of them hanging onto the chain for dear life except for Toro. The bull was not far away, but he was swimming slowly, weakly, his legs and arms moving out of sync. If Nessa was right, he’d gone under before any of them, and was probably running out of air faster.

That wasn’t good. They needed him now.

She brought her attention back to the chain. Lapin was just below her, pulling on it as hard as possible, and she did the same, but it was even harder to move the drainplug in water. Behind her, Sylvie and Barry struggled with the chain as well.

No, no, please. Please. I can’t die here. None of us can die here.

Just then, the chain jerked, and Nessa realized Lapin had let go of it. She watched him shoot through the water, swimming fast towards Toro, who was quickly losing strength. Grabbing the bull by the arm, Lapin tugged Toro upward, the two of them managing to swim higher in the direction of the surface. Half of their bodies disappeared briefly—presumably as they took one final breath above water—then Nessa saw them diving back down.

Toro and Lapin reached the chain once more; the bull, looking stronger, almost revitalized, went to the head of the chain attached to the drainplug, wrapping his hooved hands around it and pulling with all his might. Lapin copied him, as did Nessa, and she felt the chain shaking violently with the force of all of them exerting their strength at once. She could feel herself running out of air, but she refused to stop. The drainplug was coming out; she could see it shifting, rising.

More. More. Just a little more!

She kept holding her breath, pulling harder and harder. The air was nearly gone from her lungs, but still she persisted. She wouldn’t die—not here. She still had so much left to live for.

Come on, come on, come on! Please!

The chain shuddered. With one final tug, the drainplug popped out, and all at once, the water around them was rushing downward, towards the hole in the floor that had just opened up. The chamber was draining at lightning speed, and Nessa—along with the rest of the animals—was being sucked down with the flow of the water.

Terror seized her. Was this really the only way out? She hadn’t had a chance to read the rest of the page—what happened after they drained the room? Were they all supposed to go down through that drainpipe? Where did it lead? Would she and the others survive the journey?

Wilder had survived. So would they. This had to be the only way.

Nessa had no choice but to close her eyes as she was yanked down through the hole and thrown into watery darkness.

She couldn’t register the journey down the pipe, only that she was speeding through a dark tunnel, surrounded by water, unable to see or hear anyone else. For a moment, as she surged downward, cold and unable to breathe, she wondered if she’d died.

But then, in the blink of an eye, she was thrown out of the pipe, and there was no longer water around her, but air. Nessa hit the ground roughly, coughing and gasping as her lungs filled with oxygen. Precious, wonderful oxygen. Her limbs hurt, and she was soaked to the bone, but she could breathe again.

She was alive.

She opened her eyes, blinking hard. She was somewhere new now, somewhere brighter, and the ground beneath her wasn’t stone; it was softer, greener, like grass or moss. When she looked up, trying to get a hold on her surroundings, she was utterly awestruck.

They were still inside the temple, as far as she knew, and therefore still inside the mountain, but within this enormous new cave was an otherworldly jungle.

It was unlike anything she’d ever seen. The cavern had a stone ceiling, impossibly high overhead, but it had small patches of sun gleaming through, and it sparkled so much, covered in thousands, maybe millions of shining gems that it almost looked like the jungle had its own sky. On the ground, there were trees so tall they seemed to stretch upward for miles, trees of all shapes and colors with strange, glowing leaves and curling vines. There were unusual, exotic flowers, plants she’d never seen in her life, not even in books. She could hear running water, too; there were likely dozens of mountain streams running through here.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. What was this place? How could it even exist, especially when there was so little natural sunlight?

Nessa heard a startled yelp from behind her, then there was a thud; when she looked over, she saw that Sylvie had landed nearby, and was now hacking up water. A moment later, Barry came flying out of the pipe behind them, shouting incoherently before crash-landing several feet away.

They’re alive, she thought, overwhelmed with relief. Nessa looked around, and found Toro on the ground as well, sitting up and scratching his head. And next to him was Lapin, lying on his side, wincing as he forced himself upright.

Her heart unexpectedly swelled, emotion clogging her throat. He’d made it. They’d all made it. She almost wanted to run to him, to embrace him, but she didn’t, taken aback by the thought.

Lapin noticed her, his eyes widening. “You’re alive.”

She held his gaze. “So are you.”

They held eye contact for many heartbeats, neither of them speaking, then he looked away, focusing on the other animals around them. “Alright, is anyone dead? Sound off if you’re not dead.”

Sylvie acknowledged him with a low groan, propping herself up. Close by, Barry did a weak thumbs-up. “Not dead, boss,” the duck said woozily.

“Then we’re all alive,” the hare murmured. He studied the landscape for a moment, astonished, then turned back to Nessa. “What on Earth is this place?”

Nessa was just as baffled as he was. “I don’t know.”

“Do you still have the Journal? ”

The Journal. Oh Gods. Nessa reached for her bag, stunned to find that she still had it. It was completely drenched, as was the Journal inside it, but she removed the book nevertheless and opened it up to the page she’d left off on. Thankfully, Wilder’s notes were still visible due to the permanent ink they were written in.

“‘The Garden of Delights,’” she read. “‘A hidden world inside the mountain. A jungle that seemingly sustains itself.’”

Lapin stood up carefully. “Garden of Delights,” he repeated, confused. “ Delights? What does he mean by that?”

Nessa looked through the notes. “I’m… not sure. I need to read more.”

He dusted himself off. “We must proceed with caution,” he said. “All of us. Who knows what things live inside this jungle.”

He extended his hand to her, and Nessa took it, rising to her feet. When he let go of her hand, she was almost disappointed, but the feeling was gone in a flash.

The other animals got up, wringing out their sopping clothes, and Nessa went to Sylvie. “Are you okay?”

The cat had her ears flattened back, her fur matted and prickled. She looked tired and dirty like the rest of them, but more than that, her eyes were thin slits, as if she were on edge, poised for something bad to happen. Clearly, she was still recovering from what had happened in the Chamber of Circles.

Her whiskers twitched. “Fine. You?”

“I’m okay,” Nessa responded. She supposed she was, even after that ordeal. In truth, she couldn’t believe she’d recovered so quickly. They’d all been so close to death, and yet, something inside her had reassured her it wasn’t her time. That she could rely on her teammates, and they would all make it out okay.

Maybe she was becoming an adventurer after all—learning to trust her instincts.

“Good.” Sylvie turned away. “Let’s keep moving.”

Nessa felt a pang of concern. She knew there had to be more Sylvie wasn’t letting on, but ultimately, she could only give the cat the space she wanted. The two of them joined the other animals as they gathered together once more and headed into the jungle.

Entering the “Garden of Delights” was like walking into an entirely different world. The jungle was like something out of a fairy tale she might have read to her little siblings; odd and colorful and likely full of secrets to be uncovered. The animals kept close to one another, moving cautiously as they traveled deeper. Sylvie was particularly alert, with her hand on the hilt of her knife, ready to brandish it at a moment’s notice.

“So,” Lapin said to Nessa at the head of the group, “what were those ‘delights’ Wilder was referring to? Anything yet?”

“It says…” Nessa flipped through the wet pages of the Journal. “It says there are… all sorts of things here. Things that look good, make you feel good, but are actually dangerous. Like—” She read one specific note Wilder had left. “These lavender berries. He says not to eat them.”

“Wait, these berries?” Barry piped up from a branch above them. His cheeks were stuffed. “I already ate, like, five of ‘em! They taste good!”

“You idiot!” Lapin snarled. “Spit those out now! ”

“But—they taste so good,” the duck protested, smacking on the berries. “Like—like candy worms! The kind my mom used to get me! Man, I haven’t had those in ages—”

“Spit them out! ” Lapin ordered.

“Sorry, sorry!” Barry spit out the remaining berries and flapped down from the branch, landing on the jungle floor. He began to stagger back and forth, as if struck by vertigo. “Whoa. Oh, boy.”

Lapin’s head shot towards Nessa. “Are they poisonous?”

“Um—no,” she said, trying to translate the notes faster. “They—”

Barry’s stomach made a loud, unpleasant gurgling noise, cutting her off. He clutched himself, his eyes wide. “Oh, crap. That’s not so good.”

Nessa winced. “They’re not poisonous, but they’ll give you, um…” She did not want to say it.

His stomach gurgled again, and Sylvie made a sound of disgust. “Oh, boy, I gotta go number two,” the duck muttered, running clumsily into the bushes.

Everyone dashed to the other side of the clearing, eager to get away. Lapin gagged. “Disgusting. Stupid bird. Why would he eat those, let alone five of them!”

“Apparently, they taste like your favorite food,” Nessa replied. “That must be one of the ‘delights’ Wilder was talking about. There must be all kinds of things in here like that.”

“Delights,” he echoed, thinking. “Delights.” His expression changed with realization. “Of course! This is the next trial; we’re supposed to resist whatever tempts us in this jungle—or garden, whatever. This is where we’ll find the next piece of the Eye. What else does it say?”

She looked back at the notes. “The next piece of the Eye is… the snake,” she said. “The snake that coils around the staff. It’s at the heart of the garden.”

“Then we must get there as soon as possible.” Lapin looked around warily. “I don’t like this place. The sooner we get that snake, the better.”

“Barry?” Toro called. “You doin’ okay, buddy?”

The duck groaned loudly. “Not so good. Man, why’d they have to be so tasty…”

“You shouldn’t have eaten those berries, you imbecile!” Lapin fumed. He let out a heavy sigh, reining himself in. “We need to get moving again. We can’t afford any delays.”

“I can stay back with him,” Toro offered. “You guys can go on ahead.”

Lapin grunted, uncertain. “You could be needed soon.”

“Whatever it is, we can deal with it,” Sylvie asserted. “We can get to the snake faster if it’s just the three of us. And we’re coming back through here anyway.”

Nessa didn’t like the idea of splitting up, especially when they didn’t know what was up ahead, but admittedly, Sylvie’s suggestion had some merit. Beside her, Lapin thought for a moment, clenching his jaw irritably. At last, he said, “Fine. Both of you can stay here. But you are not to leave this clearing or touch anything. Am I clear? ”

“Sure thing,” Toro said dutifully. “I won’t go anywhere. Promise.”

“Good.” Lapin was already moving again. “Then let’s go. We have a snake to find.”

^ ^ ^

The map inside the Journal led the three travelers deep into the jungle, past violet-colored trees and over burbling streams with green water. Despite how fascinating everything was, Nessa tried not to fixate too much on her surroundings, knowing that even the slightest slip-up could be her downfall—or at the very least, an debilitating inconvenience. According to Wilder, not everything in the Garden was life-threatening, but even the famed explorer didn’t know all there was to know about this place. It was better to keep her guard up and simply not touch anything.

Eventually, they decided to take a brief stop, and Nessa was grateful to rest and sip from her canteen. She vowed that when they all got back to the ship in a week, she was going to sleep for days.

Sylvie went to relieve herself in private, leaving Nessa alone with Lapin near a small river. For several minutes, the only sound was the gentle running water, then Lapin asked, “Are you hurt?”

She looked at him. She assumed he was asking about before. “Oh—no, I’m fine. Are you?”

“I hit my head a little on the way down, but I’m fine.” 

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” He studied the river, not meeting her eyes. “I’m… grateful to you. If you hadn’t read the Journal in time, we all might’ve died.”

Nessa felt a twinge of something in her chest. “Glad I could… help,” she said softly. It felt unusual saying that, but not necessarily bad. The memory of being inside the chamber was flooding back to her, however, threatening to make her feel ill all over again. “Not gonna lie, I was… fucking terrified. For a second, I thought I was—that we were…”

She felt his hand on her shoulder, and found him looking at her. “We all survived,” he said in a quiet voice. “Thanks to you. You have the makings of a true adventurer, my dear.”

Her heart warmed, and she allowed herself a chuckle. “I don’t know about that. I just read from a book.”

“No one else can read the Journal, ” he pointed out. “Without you, we would never have left that room alive. Thank you for that.” His gaze softened. “You were… very brave today.”

Nessa had never heard him sound so sincere, so… tender. It was strange. It made her feel weak, and at the same time, light. Unburdened. “Thank you.”

Lapin nodded, leaning in ever so slightly. She could feel herself leaning in too, not even thinking about what was about to happen, but then there was a twitch in his ear, and he removed his hand from her shoulder. “Do you hear that?” he said, turning towards the trees.

She listened. There were faint sounds coming from the path Sylvie had taken, sounds like laughter. It sounded as if Sylvie herself was laughing, but Nessa found that difficult to believe. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Sylvie laugh. Not like that, anyway. “Is that—?”

“It’s Sylvie,” he said, with a new air of seriousness. “Something’s happened.”

He made for the trees, and Nessa followed close behind, the two of them hurrying down Sylvie’s path. The closer they got to the sound of laughter, the more perplexed Nessa became. Had Sylvie touched or ingested something by accident? She was too smart to take any chances with things in this jungle.

They finally found Sylvie sitting in a small clearing, her back against the trunk of a deep blue tree. The cat was laughing deliriously to no one but herself, her eyes closed and a lazy smile on her lips.

“Heyyy, stop,” she slurred. “That tickles.”

Lapin rushed to her side. “Sylvie,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Sylvie, what’s wrong with you?”

Nessa came closer, realizing that there were tiny bluish specks all over Sylvie’s face, like dusted pollen. She waved her hand in front of the cat, but Sylvie didn’t open her eyes.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked urgently.

Nessa opened the Journal, searching for something about tiny particles or pollen. “I—I can’t find anything. But it looks like pollen. It must have come from some kind of plant.”

Just then, she spotted a flower clinging to the tree trunk, the color of its petals almost identical to the color of the specks. A trail of pollen-like dust led down the trunk, then near the ground where Sylvie sat. Was that flower what had caused this?

Lapin shook Sylvie by her shoulders. “She’s in some kind of trance. I can’t get her out of it.”

Sylvie shifted a bit. “Don’t be so rough, honey bunny,” she mumbled, giggling. “You know how I like it.”

Lapin jerked back, caught off-guard, and Nessa snorted, equally surprised. “ Honey bunny? ”

“She’s not talking to me,” he muttered. “She’s talking to someone else. Clearly, she’s having some kind of dream. A… mature one, I suppose.”

A dream? “She must’ve touched this flower,” Nessa remarked, pointing to it. “Or… smelled it, maybe. It must put you to sleep or something.”

He let out a growl. “This is ridiculous. Of all animals, I trusted her not to do anything stupid! Now it’s just the two of us!”

Nessa stared at him. “What are you saying? She’s not dead.”

“No, but she won’t wake up. We’ll have to move on without her.”

“We can’t just leave her here! This could kill her. Who knows how long she can stay like this?”

“She’ll be fine,” he insisted. “It looks like she was just sprayed a little. That idiot duck ate at least five berries and survived. She’ll wake up eventually.”

Nessa wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know how these flowers worked, and she did not want to leave Sylvie all alone. “If she wakes up, she won’t know where to look for us.”

“She’ll find us. She’s an excellent tracker.” Lapin stood up. “Come on. Let’s keep going.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, come on. She’s perfectly safe here, dreaming about her honey bunnies or whatnot.” Lapin walked past her to the edge of the clearing. “Let’s go, pigeon. If she doesn’t find us, we’ll come back for her.”

Nessa looked at Sylvie, then at him, then back at Sylvie again. The cat really did look peaceful in her sleep; far happier and more relaxed than Nessa had ever seen her, in fact. Whatever she was seeing, it wasn’t real—but at least it didn’t seem to be hurting her. Would she really be fine if they just left her here?

She wasn’t waking up anytime soon; Nessa supposed there was nothing else to do. She just had to trust Lapin for now.

“Fine,” she murmured, turning and following him out of the clearing.

Wake up soon, Sylvie. We’ll be right back.

^ ^ ^

Not far from where they’d left Sylvie, the trees began to thin out, giving way into a large glen. Taking up most of the space inside the glen was what appeared to be a circular garden, walled in by tall blocks of mossy stone. When she turned her page in the Journal, Nessa found a drawing from Wilder that resembled the garden exactly.

This had to be the place.

But there was something else about the page that immediately unnerved her—half of it was missing, torn from some kind of struggle or accident in the past, maybe before the library had even gotten a hold of the book . She knew this was the home of the snake—it had to be—but there was nothing else she could read about this garden. Nothing about traps or guards or additional trials.

They were going to have to figure that part out on their own.

“The snake must be here,” Lapin said, stepping in front of her. “We need to be careful. We’ve made it this far without falling victim to anything, but we can’t be too safe.”

“Lapin,” Nessa said in a low voice. “Half of this page is missing. I don’t know why.” She took a deep breath. “I’m—I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s inside those walls.”

It took her a second to process the words leaving her. She’d just apologized to Lapin—for not being able to help him. A little over a week ago, she would’ve given anything to have something like this happen, some stroke of luck to keep her from doing his bidding. It might not have done anything to actually stop him, but it might have at least delayed him. Now it seemed she was actively trying to help him. Wanting to.

She didn’t have a choice in the matter, that much was still true, but even so—she didn’t want to help him, did she? Why did she feel so concerned for his safety, not just her own?

What was she supposed to make of that?

Lapin looked down at the open Journal, seeing the torn page for himself. For a heartbeat, he was silent, and she thought he was irritated, even angry. But then he looked back up at her, oddly resolute.

“Not a problem,” he said simply. “We’ll just have to see for ourselves. We’re adventurers, aren’t we?”

To her surprise, he smiled slightly, and she wasn’t prepared for the way her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t quite smile back, but she nodded.

I guess I am one now.

Together they went to the entrance of the garden, an opening under a stone arc. She took note of the long, coiling vines all over the stone walls; if she wasn’t looking closely enough, she might’ve thought they were snakes themselves. Directly above them, a particularly thick set of vines wound around the arc, bulbous pink flowers protruding from them, and Nessa felt a strange chill run down her spine before she looked away. The moment she and Lapin stepped under the arc, the flowers angled themselves downward, pointing towards the two of them.

Nessa glanced back up again at the exact second the flowers opened their petals and sent rose-colored dust raining down on them.

“Look out!” she exclaimed, trying to push Lapin out of the way, but the dust had already descended upon them. They both lunged forward, staggering inside the garden on the other side of the arc, and Nessa steadied herself against the stone wall.

She coughed, her nose and throat tickling from the sweet-smelling particles. She cursed herself for inhaling them. What were those flowers? Some kind of security system for the garden, no doubt. If the page wasn’t half-missing, she might’ve read Wilder’s warning about them. Now what was going to happen?

She saw Lapin bent over a few feet away, coughing as well. “What on Earth—” he sputtered. “What—happened—”

“The flowers,” Nessa answered in between coughs. “They—they sprayed us with something. Are you okay?”

“I’m—I’m fine.” He hesitated, bringing a hand to his forehead. “Damn it. I feel—I feel warm. Do you?”

She touched her own forehead. Moments ago, she’d been perfectly cool—chilly, even—but now she was warm; incredibly so. There was a strange, cloying heat in her upper body, almost like sickness, but it was like no sickness she’d ever experienced. The heat spread lower, settling in her core, taking hold of her limbs. She wasn’t nauseous, but she was abnormally dizzy, like she might pass out. Had the flowers infected her with something? A disease of some kind?

What the fuck is going on?

Nessa turned towards Lapin. He was standing up a bit straighter, his eyes distant, almost glossy. Breathing raggedly, he ran his hands over his chest, as if there was something under his fur he couldn’t touch, something he wanted out. He shrugged off his coat, wobbling a little on his feet, and locked eyes with her.

All at once, a flame was stoked inside her, burning beneath her skin. Her heart began to race, the heat within her blazing hotter the longer she stared at him.

Lapin. Cruel, temperamental, infuriating Lapin. Clever, compassionate, handsome Lapin. Standing right in front of her. Looking at her like she was the only thing in the world. Something he wanted. Needed.

Mindlessly, Nessa stepped closer to him, and he stepped closer in turn, reaching out for her. His lips were parted, and there was a heavy, hazy look in his eyes that made her knees want to buckle.

“Nessa,” he breathed, like he would die without her.

She didn’t think. She grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him hard.

Chapter Text

Nessa was kissing Lapin. Actually kissing him.

She hadn’t thought twice before throwing her arms around his neck, slamming her lips into his. Lapin met her hot open mouth with his own, grabbing her eagerly by the waist and yanking her closer. He was burning up, and so was she, adrenaline coursing through her. At that moment, all she wanted was to be rid of the clothes separating them.

“Nessa,” he moaned into the kiss. His hands were desperate, wandering up and down her back, gripping her ass through her pants. “Nessa…”

She clawed at his shirt, needing it off. She needed everything off. Needed him.

But wait —why did she need him? What was going on? For a heartbeat, she fought with herself, trying to understand what was happening. “What—what are we doing?” she mumbled.

“I-I—I don’t know,” he murmured, pulling back from her only barely. “I-I just—I—” His eyes fell on her lips, and then he was kissing her again, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “I need you. I—need you.”

Those words stoked the flames inside her higher, and all at once, everything ceased to matter. Nessa stopped thinking entirely and slipped her tongue into his mouth, dragging her nails up his neck, through his head fur. Lapin responded to her passion in kind, squeezing her ass, and before she knew it, she was jumping up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He kissed her harder, carrying to the nearest wall and shoving her up against it.

He ground himself into her, sending waves of heat rippling through Nessa’s body. “I need you,” he groaned against her lips. “Pretty little bunny. Let me have you.”

Nessa didn’t recognize the whines spilling out of her. What was happening to her? To both of them? He bent down, nipping at the soft parts of her throat, and she let her head fall back without hesitation, shutting her eyes at the pleasure of it.

He tugged at the hem of her shirt. “Now,” he breathed against her neck. “Now, let me have you now. ”

“L-Lapin…” She was growing weaker by the second. What were they doing? She couldn’t believe this was real. Was it real? Had those flowers put her to sleep, like they had with Sylvie?

“Say you want me, pigeon,” Lapin said into her ear. “I wanted you the moment I saw you. I wanted to make you mine.”

She shivered at that, clenching around nothing. Was that true? It couldn’t be.

Nessa was hot, too hot. The feverish heat was all over her—in her face, under her clothes, between her legs—threatening to eat her alive. The kind of heat that could only be induced, the kind she could only feel when she was ready to mate. That couldn’t be possible; she hadn’t even been penetrated. And yet, all she could think about was getting Lapin inside her, letting him make her his.

Was mating with him the answer? Could he make all this go away? She wanted that, more than anything.

“Nessa,” he whispered, practically begging. “Give it to me. I need you. Need you.”

It was phrased like a command, but the desperation in his voice betrayed him. She’d never heard him sound so needy, like he would fall apart if she didn’t give him what he wanted. He tore away some of the buttons of her shirt, a soft gasp leaving her as he exposed the fur underneath. Heart racing, she leaned forward and kissed him again, harder than ever.

She needed him, too. If they were going to mate, so be it.

The aggression of the kiss sent Lapin falling backward onto the grass, taking her with him. The two rolled around—biting, moaning, touching, squeezing—then in the blink of an eye, he was flipping her over onto her stomach, grabbing her by the ankles and yanking her towards him. “Come here.”

Nessa cooed drunkenly as he pulled her ass-up and took hold of the waistline of her pants. Her face half-pressed into the ground, she waited for him to tear the fabric down, ready for him to take her. She needed it, needed it, needed it.

Before he could do so, however, a low hissing sound rang throughout the garden. Nessa felt Lapin freeze behind her, and she lifted her head, startled. There was something moving through the flowers at the center of the garden. Then she saw it.

An enormous snake with bronze scales, slithering towards them.

“W-What?” Lapin sputtered. “The snake?”

Snake? What snake? Nessa shook her head violently, forcing herself to think. Snake. Snake. Right—the second piece of the Serpent’s Eye. The snake they’d come here for. But—no, this couldn’t be that snake. She hadn’t expected it to be alive.

She let out a shaky moan, her back arching involuntarily. The heat still clawed at her, her pussy wet and aching. His hands were still on her waist. He was right there, and she wanted him to just fuck her, but—but—

Stop. Fight it, fight it!

It took almost all of Nessa’s willpower to focus. This snake was bronze—identical to the one that wove around the Serpent’s Eye in legends. Was this creature that snake, just enlarged? Or was it guarding the actual snake, and they had to defeat this beast to get to it?

“Nessa,” Lapin said weakly, and she couldn’t tell if it was a plea, an apology, or something else entirely. He let go of her just then, and she whimpered in protest.

No, stop. Come back, come back…

“It’s coming,” he said as he rose to his feet unsteadily. “We—we have to do something. Come on.”

The snake slithered closer, flicking its golden tongue, and if only for a second, Nessa’s fear was stronger than her lust. Somehow, she found the strength to get up and stand with Lapin. “What—what do we do?”

“We—have to stop it,” he answered vaguely, like he wasn’t quite thinking straight. “We have to—tame it. Stand back.”

Nessa stood back. Reaching for his belt, Lapin grabbed his whip and cracked it in the snake’s direction, striking it in one of its eyes. The serpent let out a hissing scream, then suddenly dove towards them, and the two had no choice but to jump out of the way before it could plow through them. The scaly beast turned and raised its head, baring its wicked fangs.

“It’s coming back,” Nessa said, panicked. “What do we do? ”

“I-I don’t know,” Lapin stammered. “I can’t—can’t think—” He groaned, his hand at his groin.

Nessa glanced downward, noticing for the first time how hard he was under his pants, and liquid heat rushed to her core. Oh, gods. She could see the outline of him through the fabric. He was big—

Stop, STOP!

The snake hissed again, slithering back towards them, and Nessa tried desperately to come up with some kind of plan. There were flowers all over the garden. Maybe one of them could pacify the snake, or sedate it.

The Journal. Gods almighty, if only that page wasn’t missing, she could read Wilder’s notes and find something useful.

She turned to Lapin. She had no ideas. “Let’s get out of here,” she begged. “Forget the snake. Let’s just get out of here.”

“No, no. ” He was fighting himself, blinking rapidly to try and clear his head. “No, we—we can’t. It’ll follow us. It’ll chase us out of the jungle. We have to defeat it.”

Nessa was about to argue with him when all of a sudden, the snake lunged for them, and Lapin managed to grab his whip again just in time. He lashed it at the snake, this time hitting the side of its body. The serpent screeched and slithered away once more, but it had not given up, and Nessa knew it wouldn’t be long before it did something worse. “We have to kill it?”

“I don’t know. We—no, we can’t kill it. We can’t risk destroying the piece.”

Heart pounding, she searched the garden for anything, anything to help them. There were so many flowers, all different shapes and sizes and colors, but none that she recognized; they were all native to this jungle, not in any books she’d read. But then something caught her eye—one particular flower nestled among the rest, one with blue petals.

Identical to the one they’d found near Sylvie.

“The flower,” she choked out, pointing to it. “That—that flower that put Sylvie to sleep. It’s here. We can—we can do—do something with it.” Gods, why wasn’t her brain working? She could barely think at all with the way her body was acting, and being so close to Lapin wasn’t helping at all. She could smell him so strongly, and she the bulge under his pants was so distracting—

“Flower,” Lapin repeated, spotting it in the garden. “Yes—yes. We’ll feed it to the monster. That should do something.”

“You have to—keep its mouth open,” Nessa said. “Can you do that? I can get the flower.”

He nodded hard. “I—yes. Go get it.”

She gave him the quickest of nods back, and he braced himself to take on the snake as she rushed to the cluster of flowers. She bent low, snatching up as many of the blue flowers as she could, nearly dropping them when a jolt of pleasure rippled through her. Her pussy was throbbing, and she wanted to just tear off her pants and touch herself, make this terrible need go away, but there was no time. This was the last trial, and they had to complete it. Together.

Nessa kept out of the way as Lapin fought with the snake, dodging from side to side and whipping it with calculated blows. The creature writhed and hissed, lashing its tail at him in attack, but even in his dazed state, the hare was careful never to get struck. Lapin whipped the snake right between the eyes, and while the beast was stunned, frozen briefly in pain, he leaped up onto the back of its head, wrestling it to the ground. Grunting with effort, he held the snake’s jaw open, then turned towards her.

“Now!” he ordered.

Nessa didn’t hesitate. Ignoring the snake’s acidic breath and deathly sharp fangs, she forced the bundle of flowers down its throat, then Lapin released its jaws. The snake’s mouth snapped shut, and seconds later, it was hissing and thrashing wildly, throwing Lapin off. It rose to its full height and screamed, but the fearsome sound died faster than expected as the snake’s eyelids began to flutter closed, the beast’s long body trembling as the flowers rapidly took effect inside it.

It shuddered, then collapsed abruptly, shaking the ground with the impact.

For a moment, Nessa was afraid they’d killed it after all. She hadn’t known how effective the flowers would truly be; maybe giving even a creature that large too many of those flowers was lethal. But right before her eyes, the snake moved slightly; it coiled into a spiraling shape and started to shrink. It stiffened as if solid, inanimate, growing smaller and smaller until it was roughly the size of the Serpent’s staff, able to be held.

Nessa stood to one side, watching as Lapin picked up the solidified snake. She expected him to study it, make some kind of remark about the trial being complete, but unexpectedly, he dropped it like it meant utterly nothing to him. He turned, marching towards her and grabbing her by the hips.

“I’m not done with you,” he growled.

Nessa was up against the wall again, moaning into his mouth as their tongues reunited. She fumbled with his belt blindly, and at the same time, he tugged at hers, yanking her pants down to her knees with force. She felt his fingers at her core, searching the fabric of her underwear for an opening before finally slipping underneath. The tip of his claw grazed her entrance, swollen and leaking, and he released a heavy breath.

“So wet, ” he marveled before pushing his whole finger inside her.

The pitiful cry that came out of her was shameful. Nessa whined and gripped his shirt as he stretched her walls in a way she hadn’t experienced in years, curling his finger deep within her. Her soaked flesh tightened around him as he worked her, syrupy fluids dripping out of her and trickling down her thighs.

She threw her head back, struggling to breathe properly. He was touching her so precisely, so carefully, and yet viciously, hungrily. Like he needed her. Wanted her to feel good. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had pleasured her like this. It was perfect. It was exactly what she’d needed.

She never wanted it to end.

“You’re perfection,” Lapin rasped into her ear. “So tight and wet, like a good little whore. I’ve waited so long for this.”

His words had her pussy weeping even more, soaking his finger, and the sounds coming from between her legs were positively filthy. He slipped another claw inside her, forcing a shrill moan past her lips.

“I need you,” he breathed. “I need you. I need your perfect cunt.”

Nessa mewled and clenched around him, clawing once again at his pants. With some effort, she was able to get them open, and she couldn’t resist reaching in, finding the rock-hard shape of his cock beneath his drawers. She wrapped her fingers around it, earning a surprised groan from him, and, freeing it from the confines of the fabric, she began to pump it in earnest.

Lapin let out a strangled moan, breathing hard on her neck as his fingers worked her even harder, more feverishly. His reactions only spurred her on, and Nessa stroked him passionately, up and down, up and down. His cock was warm in her hand, so hard she could feel every vein and ridge, and she wondered what it would be like to feel it inside her. She wanted that. She wanted that so badly.

His thumb rolled over her clit, and she jerked against the wall, gasping out his name. “Please,” she whimpered. “ Please. ”

“Does that feel good?” he asked breathlessly.

“I—” Gods, she could hardly speak. Yes, it felt good. It felt better than anything. Everything. “Please. Don’t—don’t stop—”

Lapin started to chuckle, only to be cut off by a moan deep in his throat. “I won’t,” he panted, “i-if you—won’t— ah— ”

His voice, so strained and heavy with pleasure, was doing things to her, and the more he fingered her, the closer he brought her to her release. Nessa could feel the cord inside her pulling taut, about to snap. If he kept touching her like this, talking to her like this, she was going right over the edge.

And she was going to take him with her.

She pumped him harder, faster. “Make me cum,” she whispered. “Please… make me cum…”

“ Nessa, ” he murmured, pained. He said it again and again, like a prayer. “Say you want me.”

She was answering him in a heartbeat. “I want you. I want you…”

“Be mine. Say you’ll be mine.”

“I-I’m yours, I’m yours… please… ”

“Nessa…” His cock was twitching in her hand, precum leaking from the tip. “ Nessa… ”

She was so close now, so close, the pleasure inside her rising. “Lapin—don’t stop—”

“My— my Nessa… mine… ”

Her breath was catching in her throat, the cord pulling tighter and tighter. “I’m gonna—gonna cum— please— ”

“Cum for me, darling,” he said raggedly. “ Cum for me. ”

Lapin flicked her clit one last time and she was shattering. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, washing over her violently, forcefully. She wailed as she shook uncontrollably, her pussy clamped tight around his fingers, and moments later, she heard him gasp and sputter, felt his cock quiver and suddenly burst with his own release. Hot cum spurted from him, seeping down his shaft in thick rivulets and coating the palm of her hand. She stroked him through it without thinking, holding onto him like a lifeline as she caught her breath, and he groaned low into her shoulder as he rode out his climax.

For many heartbeats, neither of them spoke, breathing softly and leaning against one another. Nessa’s starry vision was clearing, and slowly but surely, her mind was returning to her. She blinked, remembering where she was. The garden. The jungle. The second temple.

Then she felt the warmth of the man pressed against her, the heat of his dripping cock in her hand, and she was filled with pure horror.

No. No, no, no, no, no. She hadn’t. She couldn’t have possibly—

She let go of him at once, shoving him away from her. Lapin stumbled back with a startled expression, his cock bobbing as he moved, and she forced herself not to look at it.

“You,” she said, her heart beating furiously. “You— we— ”

She couldn’t even put it to words—it was that inconceivable.

Lapin touched his forehead, like he himself was aware of reality again, then looked down at his still-exposed cock, eyes widening. Wiping it off quickly, he stuffed it back into his pants. “We—it seems we—” He cleared his throat awkwardly. He couldn’t seem to finish.

Nessa couldn’t handle any more of this. She couldn’t be near him a second longer, not when that had just happened. Face burning, she yanked her pants back up, ignoring how uncomfortably soaked her underwear now was. Without looking at him, she snatched up her bag and stormed off, heading for the stone archway.

She heard Lapin behind her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out of here,” she snapped. “ Anywhere. ”

“Get back here. We’re not finished.”

“Oh, yes we are!” she retorted. “I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.”

“You’re not going anywhere. We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t. ” Nessa stepped through the archway, leaving the garden. “Leave me alone.”

Lapin caught up with her, grabbing her arm. “Don’t you walk away from me.”

She whipped around to face him, wrenching herself out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”

“You’re not getting away from me, pigeon,” he said firmly. “Not after what just happened.”

“What just happened? ” she echoed. “What just happened wasn’t—it wasn’t real. It was—it was the fucking flowers! They made us do that. It was a trap. It would’ve happened to anyone else that came through here.”

“That may be so,” he said, “but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Don’t tell me none of that was real.”

“It wasn’t, ” Nessa said sharply. “I would never have done that, and you know it.”

“Do I?” He took a step closer to her. “I’m not so sure about that, pigeon.”

Her ears flattened back. “Excuse me?”

“You’re saying you would never have kissed me?” he questioned. “Even after what happened in the tent?”

Nessa looked away, her cheeks hot. That was different, she wanted to respond. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t admit that she had wanted to kiss him at all.

“Those flowers might have pushed us, but those feelings were already there, weren’t they?” A small smile played on Lapin’s lips. “You already wanted me.”

She stared at him, angry and disbelieving. “Want you? Go fuck yourself.”

“You want me,” he said, moving even closer to her. “I could see it in your eyes that morning. You wanted to kiss me. You want me.”

“I don’t want you. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“You’re not a very good liar, dear.”

Nessa huffed out a humorless laugh. “You think—you think I’d want the man who kidnapped me? Dragged me halfway across the world for some stupid treasure? Almost got me killed? ”

“You tell me,” he said with a smirk. “You seemed to like having your hand around my cock.”

Her blood boiled. She turned, marching towards the trees on the other side of the glen. “Fuck off, Lapin. I’m done.”

He laughed incredulously. “ Done? Done with what? ”

“With all of this bullshit,” she spat, not looking over her shoulder at him. “Giant mantises, rooms that try to drown you, flowers that—that make you want to fuck people you hate! I’m—I’m done with it. I’m done with you. ”

“I don’t think so.” Lapin caught up with her again and grabbed her wrist, spinning her around roughly. “This is far from over, pigeon. We’re only just getting started.”

Nessa glared at him. “Let go of me.”

“You’re not going anywhere without me,” he said venomously. “We have the snake. We’re going back for the others. Now. ”

“I am not listening to you anymore.”

“You don’t have a choice,” he hissed. “We’re finding the others and leaving this accursed place. We’ll finish this conversation when we’re out of this jungle. Understand?”

Nessa held his gaze, speechless with anger. She hated him. She hated him and everything about him, hated the way he spoke to her. She hated the way her treacherous body was affected by his touch, his eyes on her. She hated that he was right; that she really didn’t have a choice here, that it would be foolish to go anywhere in this jungle by herself or try to leave the temple without him. But most of all, she hated that, as much as she wanted to get away from him, she didn’t actually want to go off alone.

The conversation wasn’t over. There was more she needed to say, and nothing could be done about any of this until she said it.

After this, nothing was ever going to be the same, and in truth, that terrified her.

She freed herself from his grip. “Fine.”

Chapter Text

The journey back through the temple was agonizing.

Nessa refused to speak to or look at Lapin the entire time. He didn’t lay a hand on her again, thankfully, but he kept close to her the whole trek, making her even more agitated and uncomfortable than she already was.

She was fully clothed, but she felt utterly exposed to him. He’d seen her body before, even touched it in intimate places, but only to save her life. Today, he’d touched the most sensitive part of her, had his fingers inside her, brought her to completion by his hand—and she’d done exactly the same for him. Under the influence of the pollen, they’d pleasured each other, given in to each other. For a few moments, they hadn’t been enemies or crewmates or even friends. They’d been lovers.

That wasn’t something she could easily forget.

Nessa told herself that it hadn’t been real. That the pollen was to blame, clouding their judgement completely and forcing their bodies to act in ways they never would. And it was true the pollen’s effects had been strong—an hour later, she was still shivering every now and then, her pussy still throbbing in the aftermath of her orgasm. But if she was being truthful, she knew the pollen had only been a part of it.

She would never admit that Lapin was right—that she had wanted to kiss him that morning in the tent, and very well might have if Sylvie hadn’t interrupted them. She didn’t want to admit that she was attracted to him, that she thought about him more than she should, that maybe deep down, she did want him to do things to her, touch her like he had today, whisper sweet nonsense into her ear and take her from the inside—

But none of that could ever happen again. She wouldn’t allow it. She wouldn’t allow herself to stoop so low, to forgive the man who had done her so much wrong, treated her so terribly, just because she wanted him. If Lapin knew her feelings were real—and he was already mostly convinced—he would stop at nothing to take advantage of them, manipulate her in countless ways. Having any kind of relationship with him, especially a romantic one, was wrong. It was foolish.

These feelings for him had no right to exist, and they needed to be quelled. So she would quell them.

She wouldn’t give in again. No matter what happened.

They found Sylvie in the clearing where they’d left her. By the look of her, she was just waking up from her dreamlike state, yawning and rubbing her eyes at the base of the blue tree. When she spotted them, she rose to her feet, her ears standing alert.

“The fuck?” She stared at them. “What happened? Did you guys go ahead?”

“We found you here, asleep,” Lapin answered dryly. “We couldn’t wake you up, so we went ahead to the garden. And got the second piece of the Eye.” He raised the bronze snake, showing it to her.

“The snake,” she said, awestruck. “Shit. I’m sorry—I don’t know what happened. I was here, and I think I bumped into this tree, and this thing ”—she indicated one of the blue flowers clinging to the tree trunk—“fuckin sprayed me in the eyes, or something…” She studied the two of them briefly, as if noticing their distant expressions. “You guys, uh, okay? Something happen?”

Nessa’s fur warmed. Lapin responded before she could. “It doesn’t matter,” he said brusquely. “All the trials are complete now. Let’s get out of here.”

Sylvie nodded, likely grateful to have saved herself a scolding, and together the three of them were off.

Nessa kept to herself the rest of the journey, though she sensed Sylvie’s eyes on her, and Lapin’s as well. At one point, the cat asked him how he was faring, but he was quick to brush her off. Nessa wondered if Sylvie would ask her as well, but the cat made no attempt.

She was glad about that. She was in no mood to be answering questions.

Eventually, they regrouped with Toro and Barry, who had miraculously stayed put all this time, and the five animals soon discovered a way out of the temple that didn’t involve crawling back up the drainpipe. As it turned out, there was another set of stairs—one that took them through another tunnel that led outside the temple. At the end of the tunnel was a massive stone door; fortunately, Toro was able to move it aside, and they were all stepping out into the fresh night air.

They found the temple entrance, still being guarded by Luther and Lenny, up a hill not far away. Lapin had them set up camp a short distance from the pool of water, and the animals set to work starting a fire and getting things ready for the night. While she was helping unpack the stored vegetables, Nessa heard Lapin approach her, and her fur prickled.

“I want to talk to you after dinner,” he said evenly.

She flicked her ear. “Fine,” she replied, not looking at him.

She heard him hesitate a heartbeat longer, then he was walking away, and the sound filled her with relief.

Dinner was sparse that night. After the last week of travel, they were running out of rations, and no one had had the chance to hunt or forage for anything all day. Still, Nessa enjoyed her simple vegetable soup, thankful to have something to give her strength after a long, exhausting, tumultuous day. She wished it wasn’t so late, or else she would gladly take a bath in the first river she found. At the very least, she wanted out of her damp clothes tonight—at this rate, she was going to catch another cold.

“So,” Sylvie said, chewing on a stick of meat, “how’d you guys get the snake?”

Nessa looked up from her bowl. Lapin, who had chosen to eat in his tent, wasn’t present to answer the question. “It was… alive at first,” she said. “It was huge. We had to fight it.”

The animals perked up around the campfire. “It was alive? ” Barry echoed. “How’d you guys take it out?”

“We, uh… had to work together,” she replied. “Lapin fought with it for a bit. I found some flowers that would put it to sleep, and he held its jaws open while I threw them in. It screamed and thrashed around and then it… just started to shrink. It turned solid and… yeah. I guess that was that.”

“So you both took it out, basically,” Sylvie said with a sly smile. “That’s pretty badass, Bun-Bun.”

Nessa let out a half-chuckle. “I don’t know. Lapin did all the real fighting.”

“What’s he bein’ all broody for?” Luther commented. “Thought he’d be out here yappin’ and braggin’. Now that he’s almost got the whole treasure put together.”

Nessa suspected she knew one reason he could be brooding, but she kept quiet, drinking another spoonful of her soup.

Sylvie shrugged. “He’s probably just tired. We all are. I’m passing the fuck out after this.”

“Me too,” Barry agreed, sighing loudly.

“Why are you tired?” Sylvie asked him skeptically. “All you did today was shit in the bushes.”

Everyone around the fire laughed, including Nessa, who had to cover her mouth to keep soup from spilling out.

“Hey, that takes a lot out of a guy!” Barry said indignantly. “And that was painful, just so you know. I’m gonna have trouble sleepin’ tonight.”

“Serves you right,” Sylvie snorted. “Shouldn’t have eaten those berries, dumbass.”

“They were delicious, for your information!”

Nessa giggled to herself. As she was drinking down the last dregs of her soup, she saw Lapin emerge from his tent, and her heart unexpectedly skipped a beat. She looked away as he returned his bowl to Lenny. She did not like that feeling. More than that, she didn’t like that she was going to have to talk to him any minute now. She wasn’t ready to finish their conversation.

But she knew she had to.

Sure enough, he went to her a minute later, carrying a lantern, and she forced herself to meet his eyes. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” he said, indicating the trees past the camp.

Her heart rate picked up speed. She didn’t like the idea of going into the dark woods, but she supposed it was better than talking in the tent where everyone would be able to hear them; if the crew knew the extent of what was going on between them, it could complicate everything so much more. Without speaking, she gave him a slight nod and followed him into the trees.

A good distance from the camp, they stopped in a small clearing, and Lapin set down the lantern on a stump, allowing them to see one another in the dark. He took a step towards her, and she took a defensive step back at the same time. Nessa breathed in deeply.

“Look,” she said carefully. “I’m sorry I… lashed out at you before. I got freaked out. The pollen was—I wasn’t acting like myself. Neither were you. It wasn’t your fault any of that happened.”

She’d had some time to think in the last hour or so, and now that she’d thoroughly calmed down from the whole fiasco, she was willing to be forgiving. She was being generous with him, considering how he’d acted right after their sexual encounter, but she needed to keep a level head. If it made all this easier, she could try to be understanding with him.

Lapin stared at her for a moment, as if puzzled. Then, slowly, he began to chuckle, an amused look on his face. “So you continue to deny it, then. That you have feelings for me.”

Nessa bristled. “I’m being serious. The way I was acting earlier—what happened in the garden—that wasn’t me. You know that.”

“You’re lying to yourself, pigeon,” he said. “I know you want me. There’s no hiding it from me anymore.”

She scoffed. “I already told you how I feel. We shouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

“Oh, but we need to have this conversation,” he said darkly, stepping closer to her. “What happened today changes everything. I’m sure you know that.”

Nessa moved back. “It doesn’t change anything.”

“Oh, really?” Lapin tilted his head. “You expect me to just forget how you taste? How it feels to touch your soft flesh?” He took another step. “How your hand feels around my cock?”

His words had her heart beating faster, but she refused to lose her composure. “You’re gonna have to forget. Because none of that is happening again.”

“Why not?” He was backing her up further and further.

Nessa pressed her back against the trunk of a tree, keeping her breathing steady. “Because we can’t.”

“Why can’t we?” he questioned, caging her in with his arms. “I saw you today. I felt how much you wanted me. Why deny yourself that pleasure, darling?”

She wanted to hide. She wanted to push him away from her, but she couldn’t seem to find the strength. “Don’t call me that.”

Lapin laughed low. “You liked it when you were cumming on my fingers. Isn’t that right?”

A burst of heat rushed to her core. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

“We’re not finished,” he said warningly. “We’re not leaving here until you admit it.”

“Admit what? I have nothing left to say.”

He let out a growl of frustration. “Why must you be so difficult? Admit that you want me!”

“I don’t want you,” Nessa shot back, even though she knew it was a lie. “Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

“I know you want me,” he hissed. “You wanted me in the garden. You want me even now. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

She huffed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, yes I do.” Lapin leaned in closer. “Admit it. You’re afraid, pigeon. You’re afraid of how much you want me.”

For a moment, trapped against the tree, Nessa was brought back to that night outside Nevalaya, when he’d had her just like this. Back then, she’d been bound, unable to escape from him. Right now, she could, but something was keeping her here, stuck under his fierce gaze. The look in his eyes was the same as the one from that night, and this time, she knew what he was feeling. He was angry, struggling to maintain his power over her. But he was also desperate. He wanted her. Badly.

She knew now that he wanted her—the way he was acting was proof of that. But he wasn’t going to admit that—not out loud. He wanted her to be the one to submit, to be the weak one with feelings, to make him feel powerful, feel wanted. He was still the same selfish, arrogant prick he’d always been. He didn’t see her as a friend, or a partner, or an equal—just another thing to possess. Another person to control, another person to obey him.

And she was never going to give him what he wanted.

“Let me get this through your thick skull,” Nessa said, her voice laced with venom. “I don’t want you. And even if I did, I would never want to be with you.”

Lapin’s eyes darkened. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said, her gaze unwavering. “After everything you’ve done to me, why would I ever want to be with you?”

He blinked, sputtering a bit. He laughed, as if trying to regain control over the situation. “You—well—well, why wouldn’t you?”

“Are you kidding me? Do I need to list off all the reasons?” she asked sharply. “Let’s start with the fact that you tried to kill your brother. ”

“My brother stole the throne from me,” he snarled. “That crown was mine. ”

“Well, maybe there was a reason it wasn’t given to you—did you ever think of that?” she challenged. “Maybe you’ve always been a selfish asshole, and your father knew that.”

Lapin was tense, his fury rapidly growing. “You’re wrong. You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know everything that matters,” Nessa spat. “I know you’re a liar and a thief. You’re a killer. A kidnapper. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“I’m a survivor, ” he growled. “The world cast me out, and I had to look out for myself. I had no choice but to become ruthless.”

“You never had to be,” she argued. “You never had to do any of this. You never had to kidnap me, force me to work for you—”

“ Everything I’ve done is for a reason. Once I’m king, all will be right. You’ll see.”

“You’re the last person that should be king.”

Lapin’s lip curled back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“ Yes, I do,” Nessa asserted, looking him right in the eye. “You’re the bad guy, Lapin. You hurt everyone around you and you don’t care about the consequences. You don’t care about me or anyone else. We’re all just pawns in your game.”

“I don’t—” His breathing was more labored now, heavy with emotion and anger. “That’s not—”

“Not true?” she finished for him. “It is true, and you know it.”

Lapin’s chest heaved as he worked to calm himself. After a heartbeat, he laughed, low and dark. “And yet,” he said, “you want me anyway.”

For once, she didn’t have a quick response ready.

“You want me,” he said, “in spite of everything I’ve done. Everything you hate about me.” He leaned in. “And that terrifies you. Doesn’t it?”

Nessa didn’t answer, her heart hammering inside her ribcage. She hated how close he was, how she couldn’t bring herself to shove him away. She didn’t want to keep talking about this. She wanted all of this to be over.

He brought one claw to the side of her face, stroking her cheek. “You can’t lie to me, darling,” he said almost gently. “I know what you want—and I won’t keep it from you. You can have me. We can be a team. Think of how much easier everything would be.” He smiled. “I would take care of you, you know. Once I’m king, you can have anything you want.”

She wished his touch had no power over her. She wanted to fight back, but she could only stare at him, disbelieving.

“You could be my advisor. My most loyal confidant.” He chuckled. “Why… you could even be my queen. Ah, but that would probably have to be kept private, at least initially. I doubt Featherbeard is ready for a rabbit queen yet.”

In an instant, the fire within her came rushing back, her anger reignited. Nessa slapped his hand away.

“I,” she said, glaring up at him, “would never be your queen.”

Lapin’s eyes narrowed, a snarl on his lips. “You’re rejecting me?”

“Was I not being clear before?” she snapped. “Well, let me be clear now: I want nothing to do with you. Understand?”

“You’re lying,” he hissed. “You want me. You want to be mine.”

“I don’t want to be your anything. ”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I hate you. I hate everything about you.”

“No, you don’t. You—you want me!”

“Want you? You’re—you’re impossible! You’re old, heartless, insufferable— ”

“Stop it!” Lapin dug his claws into the bark on either side of her head. He was so close to her now, their noses were almost touching, and Nessa could feel his breath on her face, hot and heavy. “You’re a liar, pigeon. A filthy little liar. ”

She looked at him, then down at his lips, then back up at him. She could kiss him now if she wanted to. What would happen if she did? Would he kiss her back? Would they bite and claw at one another until they were both on the ground, tearing each other’s clothes off?

Would she like that? Would it feel good?

She didn’t look away. She couldn’t. “I’d rather die than be with you.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Lapin stared at her for what felt like a lifetime, eyes wide. His mouth was open, but he couldn’t seem to say a word. He was shocked, furious—that much was certain. But there was something else in his expression, something he couldn’t quite hide. Something broken under his hard facade, something far more vulnerable. For a second, he leaned closer to her, as if he wanted to kiss her, but something held him back, and he stopped himself before he could. Gritting his teeth, he drew back from her, and with a low sound of frustration, he turned away and stormed off, leaving her at the tree. He’d left the lantern behind, and Nessa watched him traipse back towards the camp, loudly crushing leaves and twigs underfoot as he went.

She leaned back against the tree trunk, and, looking at her arms, realized for the first time just how much she was trembling. Legs shaking, she slid down the trunk to sit at the base of the tree. Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, she put her face in her hands as tears began to spill.

^ ^ ^

Alone in the dark, Nessa let herself cry.

She cried in a way she hadn’t been able to for the last two weeks. Cried for all the madness she’d endured since the day she’d been taken, the injury and illness and close calls with death. Cried for her friends and family, who she missed so much and wished she could speak to, ask for guidance. Cried for her own weakness and stupid, stupid heart.

Everything was different now, and she feared there was nothing she could do about any of it. She never had, and never would have, any power to change things.

Why was she so fucking weak?

When the last of her tears had dried, she finally stood up and took the lantern with her back to camp, feeling weary and hollow. Much of the fire had died, only some glowing embers and charred wood remaining in the makeshift pit. Lapin was nowhere to be seen, but Nessa knew he had to be in their tent—no, his tent—licking his wounds. Sulking over her rejection like the single-minded prick he was.

She couldn’t sleep there tonight. She couldn’t possibly lie down in the same tent as him, knowing what they’d done today, what they’d talked about. She couldn’t smell his scent and remember how close he’d been in the garden, how he’d felt against her, how he’d tasted.

She shouldn’t even know any of those things. That encounter should never have happened in the first place. She wanted to forget it all.

She wanted to forget about him.

Nessa expected to find no one else outside, but just then, she spotted a pair of blue eyes in the semi-dark, and realized Sylvie was sitting by the fire, carving something into a piece of wood with her knife.

Nessa stepped towards her hesitantly. “I thought you were ‘passing the fuck out.’”

Sylvie looked up slightly from her carving. “Couldn’t sleep,” she answered in a mutter. “They all fuckin’ stink. I’ll take my chances out here.”

Nessa almost chuckled, but she was so tired, and humor could do little to help her dismal state. She set down the lantern and took a seat near Sylvie on the grass, soaking in the bits of warmth still coming from the firepit.

“What happened?”

Sylvie wasn’t looking at her, still working away at the wood, but Nessa heard the hint of concern in the cat’s voice nonetheless. “I pissed him off,” she murmured after a moment. “Obviously.”

“I got that,” Sylvie said. “But what happened? ”

Nessa’s heart clenched. She didn’t want to talk about it. And yet, Sylvie could very well be the only animal she could talk to about it. At this point, it was better to be honest with her. Whatever happened from now on, however Lapin decided to act, Sylvie would know things with him were different, one way or another.

Nessa glanced at Lapin’s tent. Was he listening right now? Could he hear what they were saying, or had he fallen asleep? She doubted the latter.

She spoke in a hushed tone. “We… kissed earlier. In the garden.”

“I thought you guys already kissed.”

Nessa winced. “What, a week ago? He did that to save my life,” she reminded her. “And that morning in the tent—that was… nothing. Nothing happened. I didn’t… want anything to happen.”

“You didn’t?”

“No,” Nessa said quickly, a purely instinctive response. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Fine. Yes. Yes, I almost kissed him. But I shouldn’t have wanted that.”

Sylvie tossed some wood chippings into the pit. “Why? ‘Cause he kidnapped you?”

“ Yes, ” Nessa said, exasperated. Why did she even have to say that? “That, and a thousand other reasons.”

“Why’d you kiss him, then? In the garden?”

Nessa gazed into the embers. She didn’t want Lapin to be listening, but a part of her didn’t care. He knew all of this already. “I didn’t… mean to. Neither of us did. The garden had these flowers—a security system. They sprayed us with this pollen that made us… I don’t know. It was like—an aphrodisiac.”

“What? The flowers made you horny?”

Nessa stiffened at Sylvie’s choice of words. “It… had an effect on us,” she said. “I didn’t even know what was happening. I was kissing him, and we were— touching each other, and—” She grimaced at the memory. “We almost… mated.”

“Whoa.” Sylvie stopped moving her knife for a second. “All ‘cause of the flowers?”

Nessa nodded. “I don’t know why they did that,” she admitted. “I don’t know why that was part of the last trial. It… didn’t make sense. But it doesn’t matter. We never would’ve done that if the flowers hadn’t… been there.”

Sylvie was quiet for a heartbeat. “Maybe not then. ”

Nessa looked at her. “What?”

“Maybe not right then and there,” Sylvie said casually. “But something was gonna happen between you two no matter what. Sounds like those flowers just made you guys skip ahead.”

Nessa’s fur burned. “What are you talking about?”

“You really don’t get it? You and him. You could cut that sexual tension with a knife.” Sylvie held up her blade, as if to emphasize her point. “It’s been exhausting, watching the two of you all week. Watching him beat around the damn bush.”

“I— Lapin ? What do you mean?”

The cat sighed. “Clearly he wants you, Ness. You really couldn’t see that?”

Nessa turned away, flustered. She knew now that he wanted her—but had it really been obvious before? Had it been obvious to everyone, not just Sylvie? Was that part of the reason he’d been treating her so kindly lately? Asking her about herself, why she wasn’t married? Checking on her, taking care of her, holding her that night when she’d asked him to?

Had she been too clueless to see his feelings? Or had she deliberately been ignoring the signs?

“It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled. “What he wants is to own me. I’m already his prisoner. I won’t give him another reason to treat me like shit.”

“What’d he say to you? In the woods?”

Nessa looked at the ground. “He didn’t… say anything, really,” she muttered. “Nothing clear, nothing that made sense. He just tried to get me to admit I wanted him, over and over. He didn’t… confess to me. He didn’t ask me to be his—his girlfriend, or whatever. But he did say that I could…” It was still difficult to believe he’d said it. “I don’t know. Be his queen. When he’s king.”

“His queen. ” Sylvie let the word sit in the air, then she laughed. “Wow. Yeah. That checks out. And let me guess, you told him to fuck off.”

Nessa shrugged. “Of course I said no. I couldn’t—I would never—I would never just agree to that. I don’t—I don’t even know why he would say that. It’s asinine.”

Sylvie snorted. “I can think of one reason.”

Nessa scoffed. “What, that he’s in love with me?”

“I mean… pretty much, yeah.”

Nessa turned to stare at her.

“What? Obviously he’s in love with you.” Sylvie went back to carving the wood. “He’s an idiot, and he’ll never actually say it outright, but yeah, he’s in love with you. Trust me, I know the guy. He’s too cowardly to admit when he wants something. When it’s not a treasure, anyway.” She dusted off her knife. “He wants you. Him saying you could be his queen—that’s his dumbass way of confessing. Asking you to be with him, or whatever. That’s the best admission of feelings you’re gonna get.”

Nessa tried to process what Sylvie was saying. She’d already guessed that that was Lapin’s angle—that he had been confessing to her in his own roundabout way. It made sense, and yet—it didn’t make anything better. “Well, that’s not good enough,” she said bitterly. “He should know he can’t just win me over. Not after everything he’s done.”

“I mean, duh. But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You still like him, don’t you?”

Nessa poked at some of the embers with a stick. “I don’t like him. I wish I could make all this shit go away.”

“Come on, princess. You really think things’ll just go back to normal now?”

Nessa’s frown deepened. “They should.”

“You really want them to?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Obviously it does,” Sylvie said matter-of-factly. “Look. Let’s be realistic here. Let’s say you and Lapin try to go back to normal. Lapin can’t hide his feelings for shit. He’s gonna be nasty to you and everyone else ‘cause he’s hurt, and he’s a bitchbaby, and you’re gonna be even more prickly than usual ‘cause you still like him and he still likes you.”

“I don’t care if he’s hurt. He hurt me first.”

“The point is, nobody’s getting along and everything sucks. That make sense?”

“That’s not my problem.”

“It kinda is now.” Sylvie let out a sigh. “Look, I get you don’t wanna be here. You didn’t ask for any of this. But the fact is, you like him. He likes you. Clearly talking about it didn’t work. You guys don’t know how to talk to each other.”

Nessa glared at her. “Have you tried talking to him? He’s impossible!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But you guys have gotta make up somehow, or everyone’s gonna be miserable.”

“I didn’t do anything to him.”

“Look—you both have shit to work through. Something’s gotta give.”

“I don’t need to do anything! He needs to apologize to me. ”

“Yeah, I know—he needs to apologize. Then what else? What could he do that would make this all better?”

What could he do? Where to begin? Nessa laughed humorlessly. “He could start by taking me home. ”

“We both know that’s not gonna happen. Just humor me here.”

Realizing how serious Sylvie was being, Nessa closed her mouth. She thought for a moment. What could Lapin possibly do to make things up to her? If he was even capable of that?

“I don’t know. He needs to—get over himself,” she finally said. “He needs to just… talk to me. Like I actually matter. Like I’m not just a prisoner, or a bunny , or… someone beneath him. I’m not just a thing. I’m—I’m a person, just like he is.”

Sylvie took in her words, nodding. “Yeah. That’s a good place to start.”

Nessa drew a line in the dirt with her stick. “You’d think he’d know how to do that already.”

“Yeah—you’d think. I’ve known him a long time, though. Easier said than done.”

Nessa didn’t answer. A minute or two passed, then she heard Sylvie stand up, brushing dirt off her pants.

“Well. Guess I should go find him.”

Nessa looked over at her. “Find him?”

“Yeah. He’s still not back. Probably went somewhere to think.”

Nessa was stunned. She thought he’d gone straight back to camp after their argument. He wasn’t in the tent? Where had he gone?

“He’s fine,” Sylvie said, as if she could read Nessa’s thoughts. “Just sulking, probably. Maybe he thought you could use the space.”

Doubtful, Nessa wanted to say, but deep down, maybe Sylvie was right. Lapin had left the tent unoccupied; she could go to sleep without focusing on his presence. And she needed to sleep—desperately. Had he been considering that?

Was it possible that he regretted acting the way he did? That he’d left not just to clear his head, but to reevaluate himself?

She wasn’t so sure. It seemed foolish to get her hopes up—especially with the way their conversation had ended.

“Get some sleep.” Unexpectedly, Sylvie handed her the wood carving. “I’ll try and talk to him.”

“You don’t have to—” Nessa didn’t finish, surprised by what Sylvie had given her. The piece of wood was mostly cylindrical, the uneven sides smoothed out by Sylvie’s knife, but the top part had been carved into the shape of… a bunny. It had a round face and large circles for eyes, and tall ears standing upright.

Was that… her?

She looked back up, wanting to say something, but Sylvie had picked up the lantern and was already walking away, heading for the trees on the other side of the clearing. Nessa watched her go, still holding the little carving.

Chapter Text

Nessa fell asleep alone in the tent, but in her dreams, Lapin was there.

Her dream picked up where the two of them had left off in the garden. They finished each other, and instead of pulling away, they were grabbing one another once more, mouths crashing together and greedy hands touching, feeling all over. They fell to the ground, tearing off their clothes, and in the blink of an eye, Lapin had her on her stomach again, grasping her hips and lining himself up with her. Breathing raggedly, he pushed himself in—

And she woke up before it could go any further.

In the morning, she found Lapin sitting outside, his back to the tent. He looked haggard, more so than usual, and she wondered if he’d gotten any sleep the night before; she hadn’t seen him in the tent at all. She didn’t utter a word to him all throughout breakfast, and neither did he, eating his meal in somber silence while the rest of the crew chatted like it was any other morning. Even as the animals packed up the camp and began their trek back down the mountain, Lapin still did not speak to her.

For the first few hours, Nessa walked a few feet behind Lapin; since they were going back the way they’d come, he could read the map himself easily, and didn’t need to consult her. She was grateful she didn’t have to see his face. She didn’t want to look at him just yet—not after their fight, and especially not after the dream she’d had last night. She was still recovering from how real it had felt.

It was a vision of what might have been real—if neither of them had come to their senses.

When the crew stopped briefly to rest, and Lapin was a good distance away, she went to Sylvie. “What happened last night?” she asked quietly, having been thinking about it all morning.

“Found him in the woods,” Sylvie said with a shrug. “He was fine. We talked for a bit, then we came back.”

That was what she’d expected. “What did you… say to him?”

Sylvie took a swig of water from her canteen, then wiped her mouth. “Do you really wanna know?”

Nessa hesitated. She thought about it. Did she want to know? Would it hurt if she knew what they’d talked about? Would it make this situation any better? “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I guess I just wanna know if… he’s…”

She looked over at Lapin, who was drinking from his own canteen across the clearing. Swallowing, he put the cap back on and looked up just then, forcing her to tear her eyes away. Her chest tightened.

“If he’s… good?” the cat asked.

Nessa turned to Sylvie. After a heartbeat, she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I just… need to know what’s gonna happen. If he’s still pissed, or…”

“Why don’t you just talk to him?”

Nessa eyed her, then scoffed a little, looking away. “Pretty sure he doesn’t wanna talk to me.”

“I dunno. Maybe he does.”

Nessa stared at the forest floor, unsure how to respond. Did he want to talk to her? Did Sylvie know that for certain? Had he said as much to her last night?

She looked over at him again, standing by a tree. She expected him to be getting back to business by now, barking at the other animals to hurry up so they could get back on the trail, but he seemed unusually solemn. His eyes were distant, as if he was lost in his own world; more weary than angry or upset. What was on his mind? Was that something she should ask him?

She thought about going to him. A part of her wanted to. But something held her back. She wasn’t ready to just forgive him for everything that had happened, for the way he had acted. He hadn’t apologized to her yet. Why should she approach him? If he really wanted to talk to her, why couldn’t he tell her himself?

Nessa crossed her arms, resigned. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “Not… today.”

^ ^ ^

The next five days were almost all the same.

The crew traveled down the mountain, passing familiar sights and landmarks, hiking as far as they could until darkness fell and they had to make camp for the night—often, setting up in the same places they’d camped in before. Lapin spoke very little to everyone, and even less to Nessa in particular. The most he’d done was ask her about her wound on the second day, and she’d answered that it was fine. Apart from that, they avoided one another almost entirely.

She and Lapin didn’t speak during the day, nor at night. They continued to share a tent—solely because Nessa couldn’t bring herself to sleep in the big tent—but even when they were alone together, no words were exchanged between them, not even goodnight. They turned onto their sides and went to sleep, though it didn’t always come quickly. More than one night, Nessa found herself lying awake, thinking about things she wished to say, things she wished he would say to her. She always went to sleep eventually, but those unspoken thoughts, feelings, desires crept into her dreams, filling them with emotions she wasn’t ready to let out. It was exhausting. It was painful.

If the other animals noticed her quarrel with Lapin, they were simply keeping quiet about it, possibly afraid to stir the pot; it was also likely, though, that they just didn’t care or understand. Sylvie, however, made sure to voice her thoughts on the matter.

“Just talk to him,” she said to Nessa on the third night, when Lapin was standing too far away to hear.

“ He should talk to me, ” Nessa replied. “I told you he needs to apologize.”

“I know,” Sylvie said, pinching her nose in frustration. “I know. He needs to. But he’s stupid, alright? Maybe if you just give him a push—”

“I’m not doing anything for him,” Nessa said firmly. “Not until he gets over himself.”

“He’s probably just…”

“What? Scared?”

Sylvie sighed. “No. I mean… he’s probably just not used to this.”

“Needing to apologize?” Nessa laughed sourly. “Yeah. Clearly he isn’t.”

“Maybe you should just tell him how you’re feeling. Get it off your chest. Come on, this is fucking weird. You guys don’t even look at each other.”

“I don’t care,” Nessa snapped. “He can fix this anytime. He just obviously doesn’t want to.”

She turned and marched away, needing to clear her head. Sylvie didn’t try to follow her.

There were no storms that week to threaten their downward journey, though the mountainside was rough and sloped dangerously. On the fourth day, Nessa tripped, nearly slipping down a rocky hill, only to be caught by Lapin. As he helped her back onto her feet, they made eye contact for a long moment, but she was quick to turn away from him.

“Thanks,” she muttered as she dusted herself off. It was the only thing she said to him that day.

After that, she swore she felt his eyes on her for the rest of the day, here and there when she wasn’t looking. When they tucked themselves into their corners of the tent that night, she thought she heard him open his mouth to speak, perhaps to finally break his silence, but ultimately, nothing came out. She fell asleep, and another version of Lapin was there to greet her in her dream.

Dream Lapin was different each night. Sometimes, he was shrouded in darkness—a shadowy figure sitting on a throne, or brandishing a sword at the gate of a palace. A villain. Sometimes, he was himself, standing in some kind of light, whether it was the sun or the pale moon shining down on a clear evening. Peaceful. Sometimes, she could barely see him at all, but felt his presence nonetheless; felt his claws digging into her thighs, or the warmth of his body on her, behind her. A feeling more than a person. A thing that she didn’t have to look at or try to understand, that could give her what she craved deep down.

Dream Lapin was uncomplicated. He wasn’t real. Her dreams offered her little escape—and they certainly didn’t give her answers to the questions that ate at her.

The fifth day was dull and unremarkable, much like the other four preceding it, but the animals were worn down from so much climbing, particularly Nessa. When she settled on her sleeping mat that night, sleep found her quicker than usual, her body and mind eager for reprieve. But her dreams, she soon discovered, would bring her anything but comfort.

She was alone in the jungle at night, running through the rain. Running away. Running from something. Something was chasing her.

Her heart was racing. Her ears were ringing. She could hear heavy footsteps behind her, stomping, crushing the undergrowth. The click of giant pincers.

No, no, no. She knew what this was. She remembered this.

Nessa slipped on the wet ground. She tumbled and fell. The creature was upon her, grabbing her with its claws, hoisting her into the air and throwing her. She screamed as she was tossed, then caught again, then swung into a tree like a piece of meat, her bones shattering. She crumpled to the ground, her insides broken, burning, and the creature—the mantis— was there above her, ready to strike, ready to kill.

When she forced her eyes open, she was still screaming.

“Nessa. Nessa!”

The sound died in her throat. It took her a moment to realize where she was—safe, awake, in a tent. Nowhere near the jungle of Nevalaya. She sat up on her mat, shaking from head to toe.

A dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.

“Nessa?”

Trembling, Nessa turned, finding Lapin upright on his own mat, his eyes wide and fixed on her. She was so shaken, still gripped by the horrors replaying in her head, that she almost didn’t recognize him. It was several seconds before she remembered that he was real, not another figment of her dream. She’d woken him up.

“Are you… alright?” he asked softly, looking almost as shaken as she was. “You were… screaming.”

She touched her forehead. “I’m—I’m sorry,” she mumbled, out of pure instinct. She was sorry. She hadn’t meant to wake up screaming. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done that, or if she ever had.

“Are you alright?” he asked again. The question was clearer, firmer this time. Heavy with concern.

Nessa didn’t answer right away. She couldn’t, still trying to quell her lingering terror. She clutched herself.

Are you alright?

Something he hadn’t asked her in quite some time.

She knew he was only asking about the present. About her nightmare. But at the same time, it felt much more layered than that. Full of emotion that had been building over the last several days. Maybe… it was an olive branch.

Was she alright?

She drew her legs close to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. With tears in her eyes, she whispered, “No.”

Lapin was silent, but she could almost hear him thinking, carefully deciding what to say next. After a moment, he murmured, “I’m… sorry.”

Nessa felt a pang in her heart. An apology. There was sincerity in his words—and yet, not enough weight to them. Was this apology just sympathy for her current state? Or was it an apology for everything? It didn’t feel like the latter.

“For what?” she asked.

“I’m… sorry that you… feel this way,” he responded slowly, awkwardly. He cleared his throat. “Is there… anything you need?”

You, she wanted to blurt out. You. I need you.

But she didn’t. She wiped her eyes, reining herself in. There was no avoiding this any longer. “I need you to talk to me.”

It was dark in the tent, but she saw his ears fall back—with shame or displeasure, she wasn’t sure. “About…”

Nessa almost wanted to laugh. He couldn’t possibly be feigning ignorance. “You know what I’m talking about.”

A long pause. “About… us.”

What else is there? “Yes.”

An even longer pause. Gravely, he replied, “I believe we already had that conversation.”

Nessa bristled. “There’s still more that needs to be said. You know that.”

A small scoff. “More to be said? You made yourself perfectly clear. You would rather die than be with me. I believe that marked the end of the conversation.”

Anger built within her. “If all of this is over, why aren’t you talking to me?”

“I could ask the same of you. You seem content to ignore me.”

“So do you!” she retorted. “You’ve barely looked at me since that night.”

“I’m merely giving you the same treatment you’ve been giving me. You wanted things to go back to normal, didn’t you?”

“Of course I want that. But only after you apologize to me.”

He glared at her through the darkness. “What do I need to apologize for?”

He couldn’t be serious. “For—for being an asshole, ” Nessa asserted, her voice hard. “For forcing yourself on me.”

“Forcing? We both took part in what happened in the garden.”

“I’m not talking about the garden. I’m talking about the woods. You, getting in my face. Forcing all those things on me I never asked for.”

“You mean the offer I made you? I offered to make you my confidant. My queen. That’s an honor. ”

“I don’t want to be a queen! And even if I was your queen, you said you’d keep me a secret. Because rabbits can’t be queens. Only hares can be royalty, isn’t that right?”

“That’s not—” Lapin cut himself off, an irritated growl in his throat. “I didn’t mean it like that. ”

“I know what you said. You think rabbits are inferior. That I’m inferior.”

“No, I—of course not. You’re not inferior. You’re… wise, intelligent—”

“And other rabbits aren’t?”

“ No! That’s not what—you’re not understanding what—what I—”

Her emotions kept rising, and Nessa let them spill out of her, tired of holding them all in. “I don’t—I don’t mean anything to you, do I? I’m just a bunny to you, right? A weak, cowardly bunny. You said so yourself.”

He balked. “I—that was—that was a long time ago.”

“You meant it back then,” she said, tears trickling down her cheeks. “You still mean it now. I’m—I’m nothing to you.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. You don’t—you don’t care. Otherwise, you would talk to me. You would treat me like I matter.” She buried her face in her knees. “I just—I just want—I just want… to…”

She could feel him watching her, his frustration subsiding, turning to something else. When he spoke, his voice was unusually quiet. “Want to… what?”

Nessa didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want to be so weak and vulnerable, to open herself up to hurt and ridicule like this, but she was practically there already. “I want to like you, Lapin. I want to—to care about you, but you make it so fucking hard. ”

Lapin didn’t say a word.

There was so much tension, so much emotion inside the tent, it could almost be felt, touched. Many minutes passed before he opened his mouth to speak. When he finally did, she held her breath.

“I’m sorry.”

She sat utterly still, waiting, hoping that he would continue. Before long, he did.

“You’re not… nothing to me,” he said, his eyes on the floor, not on her. “You mean… more than I anticipated, going into this journey. You’ve… surprised me. In more ways than one.” Taking a breath, he kept going. “You are… smart. Resilient. Kind. You are… more than just a bunny. As I am more than just a hare.”

Nessa dried her cheeks with the back of her hand.

He sighed. She could tell this was difficult for him to properly vocalize, but still, he continued. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “For hurting you. And for… everything else. For… taking you from your home. For causing you such pain. I didn’t… care as I should have cared.” He sat up a little straighter. “I realize I’ve made things harder than necessary. For you, and… I suppose for all of us. I… don’t expect you to forgive me, after all I’ve done. But I hope that… this is… at least a start.”

Her heart thrummed in her chest. She didn’t yet know what to say.

“I’ve learned much about you on this journey,” he said, “but… it seems I still don’t know enough.” He turned towards her, blinking at her in the dark. “I would… like to know you. I would like to… make things better, if I can. If that will help.”

She allowed herself to look over at him.

“Will you… let me?” he asked.

Nessa felt something blossoming inside her. Something small, but warm, hopeful. For the first time in the last several days, she felt… at peace. Almost happy.

He was right. It would take a lot more for her to forgive him for everything. But… it was a start.

“Okay,” she said in a whisper.

She couldn’t see his expression clearly, but she could tell he was smiling faintly. He turned back, the smallest of chuckles leaving him. “You know,” he said, “it’s… quite boring when we’re not talking.”

Nessa’s lip quirked up, and she too laughed lightly. She had been profoundly bored all week, even with Sylvie to chat with occasionally. “Yeah. It really is, isn’t it?”

“Incredibly so.”

Her heart swelled. A long moment passed between them—a comfortable silence. An easy silence. She could feel her eyelids drooping, her weariness taking hold of her again. She didn’t want to have another nightmare, but she needed to go back to sleep. She was ready to face whatever awaited her.

In the real world, she wasn’t alone.

Nessa laid down, lowering her head onto her pillow. “Goodnight,” she said, drawing her blanket up over herself.

She heard Lapin settle down on his side of the tent.

“Goodnight, Nessa.”

Chapter Text

By the end of the sixth day, the town of Eika came into view at the bottom of the mountain.

The crew had powered through their last day of climbing, now finding themselves only a few miles away from the ship. In the woods just outside the town, Lapin called for the animals to set up camp.

“Aww, Lapin, come on,” Barry complained. “Can’t we just stay at an inn or somethin’ for once? The town’s right there! ”

“Not to agree with the duck, but I wouldn’t mind a real bed for a change, or at least a hammock,” Sylvie added, her bones cracking as she stretched her limbs. “Maybe some of us can get a room, and the rest can sleep out here. I’d kill to actually get a good night’s sleep.”

“Great idea!” Barry chirped. “How ‘bout us smaller folks get a room, and the big guys can sleep out here?”

The bull brothers exchanged uncomfortable looks. Beside them, Luther stomped forward.

“‘Scuse me?” The gorilla took a step towards Barry, narrowing his eyes. “You sayin’ us big guys don’t deserve a room?”

“The beds might not be big enough for everyone,” Sylvie suggested dryly.

Luther turned towards her, baring his teeth in a snarl. “What was that, Kitty Cat?”

Nessa shrank back slightly on the stump where she’d taken a seat. Oh, boy…

“All of you, knock it off!” Lapin snapped. He sighed. “We’re all exhausted, and I’m sure all of us would like a comfortable bed, but that’s not going to happen tonight. Purchasing a room here is too risky, and we’d be too exposed camping anywhere else.” He rubbed his forehead wearily. “We’ll get back to the ship in the morning, then bring it into the port so we can resupply in town. Am I clear? ”

The animals, who had gone silent, all nodded, including Nessa.

“Good. Now settle down. ”

Dinner was brief, with meager conversation, and when everyone was finished eating, the crew members were quick to turn in, eager to sleep and get their last night in the tents over with. In her own tent with Lapin, Nessa laid as still as she could on her side, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Almost finished,” Lapin murmured.

With a pluck, he removed the last of her stitches, and she let out a shuddering breath. He extended his hand and she took it, sitting upright. “That didn’t… hurt as much as I’d thought,” she noted.

“Good. It shouldn’t have hurt.” He cleaned his tweezers and returned them to the first aid bag, which he set aside. “How do you feel?”

She touched her side lightly, right where her wound had been. After two weeks, it had healed almost entirely. There was still an ugly mark on her skin, but it barely hurt, and much of her fur had grown back in that spot, covering up nearly all evidence of her injury.

“I’m okay,” she answered. “Just tired. Not that that’s anything new.” She chuckled, lying down and tucking herself under her blanket.

He gave her a hint of a smile. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll be back on the ship.” He reached for the lantern. “Will you… walk with me in town? While we resupply. I’ll have the others do their own tasks.”

Her heart skipped a beat. The two of them—walking around Eika together. Was that intended to be a date? She wasn’t certain, but regardless, she responded, “Sure.”

Lapin nodded, something flickering in his eyes; she wondered if it was relief, or even happiness. He blew out the candle in the lantern, and she heard him settle onto his sleeping mat. “Goodnight,” he said quietly.

She closed her eyes, smiling a little to herself. “Goodnight.”

^ ^ ^

The next morning, Nessa was surprised by how invigorated she felt.

She’d had a full night’s sleep, some of the best rest she’d had all week, and her energy had been restored. The day was bright, and the sun was warm overhead, shining down on the glittering blue ocean. A cool breeze followed the crew as they trekked to the cove, and it didn’t take long for them to return to the ship and bring it around to the port of Eika. They docked not far from the shore, and with Luther guarding the ship, the rest of the crew disembarked and headed into town.

Eika was a relatively small town, but larger than Tocano, and almost as busy as Senna. The buildings were colorful, mostly in shades of pale pink or blue, with curved roofs that reminded Nessa of the entrance to Kimeri. Standing just outside the main marketplace, she could see all kinds of vendors set up along the streets, the variety of wares catching her eye.

“We’re splitting up,” Lapin announced to the group. “Barry, fly over town and keep an eye on things. Come find me should you find any trouble. But only if it’s important. Understand?”

“You got it!” Barry replied.

“Sylvie, take the bulls and restock on food and water,” the hare said, handing her a list of items. “Keep things simple. Discrete. Take everything back to the ship, then wait there for the rest of us to return.”

Sylvie’s ear flicked, and Nessa knew she couldn’t be thrilled about having to work with the bulls, but the cat gave him a nod nonetheless. “Got it.”

“Nessa and I will get the rest of the supplies,” Lapin concluded. “We’ll all meet back on the ship in two hours. We shouldn’t need any longer than that to get everything done. Now go.”

The animals split up. Nessa briefly made eye contact with Sylvie; just before the cat turned away, she gave Nessa a wink, swishing her tail in Lapin’s direction. Nessa’s face was warm as she followed Lapin into the market.

“So what are we getting?” she asked him.

“Not much,” was his response. “We’ll need more gauze and disinfectant; we just ran out of both. And then, well, we’ll simply get whatever else we need.”

“How much money do we have?”

He glanced at her, the slightest of smiles on his lips. “I’d hardly concern yourself with that.”

Nessa wondered if he was trying to be gentlemanly—implying she shouldn’t worry because she wouldn’t have to pay for anything—but she got the sense it wasn’t just that. “You’re not gonna steal anything, are you?”

Lapin let out a sigh. “Must you ask me that?”

“Well? Are you?”

“ No, my dear Nessa.” He kept his eyes ahead, utterly calm. “Trust me. I have my ways of getting things.”

She was about to ask what exactly he meant by that when abruptly, something caught her attention. There was a particular stand to one side of the market, its array of shiny objects sparkling in the midday sun, and she found herself drifting towards it.

Lapin stopped in his tracks. “What? Where are you going?”

She heard him trailing after her, but all she could focus on was the stand. Hanging from it were dozens of small, colorful jewels—crystals specifically, light catching on their glistening surfaces. She remembered the stall she’d seen back in Senna, one that had looked just like this, and she felt her heart twist.

Lapin came to stand beside her. “What are those?” he asked, following her gaze.

Nessa touched her chest, feeling the absence of her necklace. She’d been without it for weeks now, but she hadn’t forgotten about it. Not at all.

“Speaking Crystals,” she said in a low voice.

“Speaking Crystals?” he echoed. “I’ve… never heard of those. What do they do?”

The corner of her mouth tugged up ever so slightly. A long time ago, she’d asked her mother the same thing. “They… don’t actually do anything,” she answered. “Not really. It’s… an old wives’ tale that if mothers gave one to their child, her children could talk to her, even when they were far away. Send messages to her—something like that.” She recalled her mother’s stories. “It’s been a while, and everyone knows they don’t really do that, but… mothers still like to give them to their kids. My mom gave me one when I was little. She gave all my siblings one.”

As a young kit, she hadn’t cared much for the crystal. All she did was read about famous treasures, artifacts with legendary magical properties; an ordinary crystal that could be bought for almost nothing hardly compared to the things King Peter brought back from his expeditions.

“I… thought it was kinda tacky at the time,” she admitted. “It was just a crystal. It didn’t really do anything. But my mom was so happy, I just kept wearing it for her.” She shrugged. “I guess after a while, I started to like it. I just… wore it all the time. I never took it off.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Lapin furrowing his brows, absorbing her words. It took him a moment, but soon, his ears were falling back, his face changing with realization. “That… crystal you were wearing,” he said at last.

Nessa looked down at the ground. She didn’t reply; she wasn’t sure what else she could say on the topic. Yes, her crystal was gone—and he was the reason for it. He’d used it to escape his prison cell, and promptly discarded it. But there wasn’t much to be done about it now. There was no getting back the necklace she’d lost, and she certainly couldn’t ask him for a new one. Why would he ever agree to that?

“It’s okay,” she said after a heartbeat. Not because she had forgiven him, but because she simply wanted to move on. “It’s not like I love my mom any less. She understands.” She turned away from the stand. “I’ll see her when we get back. Maybe she’ll… get me a new one.”

She started to walk back, while Lapin lingered in place, as if lost in thought. “Perhaps,” he said, sounding unusually distant. After a few seconds, she heard his footsteps behind her as he joined her.

The two ventured deeper into the market. For a minute or two, neither of them spoke or looked at one another, the awkwardness of their last conversation still hanging in the air. Before long, though, Nessa could feel her spirits lifting once again, the excitement of the marketplace reinvigorating her.

It really was a lovely place. Vendors and buyers alike were laughing and chatting, children were running around, playing and snacking on sweet-looking treats. She spotted a few rabbit kits here and there, and was reminded of her little siblings.

“I don’t see any medical stands,” Lapin commented. “We should head further into town.”

Past the marketplace, they entered a large, open square encircled by various shops, and Nessa was instantly in awe of the area.

It was bursting with color, just like the rest of the town. There were murals painted on the sides of buildings and sketched in chalk on the ground—skillful drawings of swimming fish, of stars and suns and moons. She noticed that the entire square was decorated—done up with strings of fairy lights and long streamers, round paper lanterns in pink, green and blue hanging from them. The lights were unlit—it was still early in the day, after all—but that didn’t make her any less dazzled by the scene.

Did the square always look like this? Or was this some kind of holiday?

“ Lemiya, ” she read from a poster on a nearby wall. It was a Zimani word; she knew quite a bit of Zimani, but she didn’t recognize that word. “It looks like there’s a… festival going on,” she said, translating the rest of the poster. “That might be the name of it —Lemiya. I’ve never heard of it. Eika is a small town—it must be a really local holiday or something.”

“That must be why this place is so crowded,” Lapin surmised. “How long is this event going on for?”

Nessa read further down the poster. “It goes for four days. This is the second day.”

“Hmph. Then it’s only going to get more crowded. Let’s get what we need and get going, before more animals start coming in.”

The two of them spent the next hour entering different shops in the square, searching for necessities. After some looking around, they found a shop that sold medical supplies and bought the items they needed, then they were in and out of other stores until they decided to stop for some lunch. Nessa sat beside Lapin on a bench to one side of the square, enjoying a fresh persimmon and taking in her surroundings.

For the first time in a while, she felt… peaceful. Rejuvenated. It was nice to sit back and take it easy for a few hours, after weeks of nonstop travel and unease and dull scenery.

She was pretty sure this wasn’t a date. It was mostly just running errands; there was nothing romantic about it—not that she wanted there to be, necessarily. Lapin had been decent company; considering how their last outing in a town together had gone, he was on some of his best behavior, but he certainly wasn’t there to have fun—primarily focused on staying on task. On top of that, he seemed strangely distant, as though preoccupied with something. Nessa thought about asking what it was, but she doubted it was anything out of the ordinary. He was always concerned with one thing or another, keeping to himself, making plans in his head that he wouldn’t reveal to anyone until later. She was used to that sort of thing by now.

In all honesty, she was used to a lot of things about him. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and for the most part, anyone could read him as easily as a children’s book, and yet, it was still a little frightening how well she’d gotten to know him these last few weeks.

I would like to know you, she remembered him saying.

She stole a subtle glance at him. He had finished his own persimmon, and was staring ahead at something unseen, lost in thought.

He was so easy to read on the surface—when he was boasting or raging or issuing a command—or at least, she believed it was easy. But in moments like this, when it was hard to guess what he was feeling, thinking—he almost felt like someone else, someone other than the man she was used to. Someone she didn’t yet know or understand.

I want to know you, too.

Just then, Lapin sat up straighter, squinting as he noticed something across the square. “What? They can’t be finished already.”

It took her a second to see what he was seeing—Sylvie and the bulls, entering the square. They were laughing, looking remarkably happy-go-lucky, staggering ever so slightly as they moved. Lenny guffawed at something Toro said, nearly dropping the barrel he was carrying over his shoulder.

Lapin stood up, looking agitated. “What on Earth are they doing?”

He began to march towards them, and Nessa was quick to follow, stuffing the last of her persimmon into her mouth. Halfway across the square, Sylvie noticed them, waving as they approached.

“What is up, comrades?” she greeted them, letting out a burp. She laughed, swinging the cup in her hand back and forth.

“What have you three been doing?” Lapin demanded. He scowled at the cup, then at her. “Are you drunk? ”

“Okay, maybe a little, ” Sylvie admitted, slurring a bit. “But in my defense, they kept shovin’ drinks in our faces! We were over there, tryin’ to get the stuff, like you asked, and they just—just kept givin’ us drinks! Right, boys?”

“It’s true,” Lenny agreed. “We didn’t buy any of them. They just kept handin’ us drinks. They had all kinds of drinks at every stand.”

“They’re doin’ some kind of festival or something,” Toro added. “Bein’ all friendly and stuff, handin’ out free drinks. It wasn’t our fault! We just wanted to try some.” At that moment, Lenny smacked him on the back humorously, and Toro burped. The brothers laughed loudly.

Lapin slapped his forehead, growling furiously. “Oh, you imbeciles! You were supposed to get the supplies and get back to the ship! You couldn’t do that simple task?”

“We still got some stuff!” Sylvie pointed out, gesturing to Lenny’s barrel. “We’ll get the rest, we promise! We’ve still got time.”

“We have less than an hour until we leave,” Lapin said, frustrated. “I gave you plenty of time, and yet you decided to waste it because you couldn’t ignore—”

He was interrupted by someone yelling overhead, making a long sound like a goofy battle cry. Everyone looked up, and a moment later, Nessa spotted Barry half-flying, half-falling down towards them. He landed ungracefully, skidding across the ground on his stomach a few feet from the group. Clumsily, he got up and shook his feathers before facing them with wide eyes.

“You guys!” he exclaimed. “You guys, this place is great! You know they just give you free drinks? Like, everywhere?”

Lapin looked about ready to explode. “Oh, wonderful! Are you drunk, too?”

Barry thought for a second, then hiccuped. “Uhhh… define drunk. I’m thinkin’ more… tipsy. ”

Lapin glared daggers at him.

“Y’know—we should stay longer,” Sylvie suggested all of a sudden. “They’re having this big party tonight. Drinking, dancing. We could stay, hang out a little. I mean—we just spent two straight weeks hiking up and down a fuckin’ mountain. We could all use a little break, right?”

The other animals started to nod eagerly, looking at one another with growing excitement. “Yeah!” Barry piped up. “We should stay for the party!”

“We can leave first thing in the morning,” Toro said.

“Absolutely not! ” Lapin said sharply. He lowered his voice. “Are you forgetting that we are all wanted criminals? The longer we stay, the more likely we are to get caught. ”

“They don’t recognize us here,” Sylvie countered. “If they did, they would’ve done something already. Featherbeard’s so far, they’ve probably never heard of us.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, ears flattened back. “We are not staying here any longer than necessary. Certainly not for some party. ”

Nessa, who had been holding her tongue for the last several minutes, finally decided to break her silence. “Actually, I… wouldn’t mind staying, either.”

Everyone went silent, all eyes falling on her. She flushed, put on the spot.

“I, um…” She shrugged. “I just mean… Sylvie’s right. All we’ve done for weeks is just… travel, travel, travel. We never stay in one place for too long, and I get why we don’t, but… I don’t know.” She looked around. “I like this place. Maybe a party could be… fun.”

The animals stared at her for a heartbeat; most likely, none of them had expected her to be on board with their idea. Honestly, she herself hadn’t expected to speak up the way she did. But then their faces began to light up. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Sylvie said, taking a swig from her cup. “When princess wants to party, that’s when you know we’ve gotta do it.”

“Yeah, c’mon!” Barry chimed in. “Even Nessa wants to stay!”

Lapin’s ear twitched. He frowned, thinking hard, then looked at Nessa. Clearly, he hadn’t expected her to agree with them, either. “You… do?”

She shuffled her feet, suddenly feeling very warm. “I—I mean, yeah,” she responded. “I like it here. I just thought we could all… use some fun. Y’know? Something… different. It would just be one night. We can all hang out, have some drinks. Then we’d leave first thing in the morning.” She met his eyes hesitantly. “And… I dunno. I like dancing.”

He held her gaze, something shifting in his expression. “Dancing.” Almost curiously, he asked, “Is that so?”

“Uh… yeah.” Her heart fluttered. “It’s been a while, but… yeah.”

Lapin looked at her a few heartbeats longer, neither of them saying a word. He blinked, as if coming out of some kind of trance, then he straightened himself, adjusting the collar of his coat. “Hmm—well—very well, then,” he said at last, clearing his throat. “Fine. I suppose one night here… wouldn’t be… a terrible inconvenience.”

The crew members cheered uproariously, pumping their fists and just barely avoiding dropping their drinks. Lapin grunted.

“One night of discrete leisure, and we leave at dawn in the morning,” he stated firmly. “And not a second later, do you all understand? This journey will not be delayed any further! And you will all behave tonight, or so help me—”

“You’ve got it, boss,” Sylvie said, rolling her eyes. “No funny business.”

“No funny business!” Barry parroted.

“You can trust us,” Sylvie said, raising her drink. “We know how to hold our liquor. ”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Lapin said dryly.

Nessa giggled. She felt oddly warm inside, knowing that their time in Eika wasn’t over just yet. There was… actually something to look forward to tonight, not just more sailing, more traveling towards another place filled with peril. She’d never been much for parties, but she welcomed any change of pace. This festival was her chance to finally have some fun after so long. Drink a little. Dance a little.

Maybe even… dance with someone.

“Well, we still have several hours before dark; that’s plenty of time to get the rest of the supplies,” Lapin said to the group. “Barry, get back to work—and no more drinking!”

“Aww, fine!” Barry quacked, lifting off the ground. “Guess I’ll just save that for tonight!” he added with a laugh as he flapped away.

Lapin sighed. “Lenny, Toro, come with me; we’ll finish resupplying and bring everything back to the ship. Sylvie, you and Nessa will stay together.”

The bull brothers went to Lapin’s side, and Sylvie went to Nessa’s. “What are we doing?” the cat asked, gesturing to herself and Nessa.

“ You’re sobering up,” he told her flatly. “Hopefully Nessa can get you back in check. I’ll see you both on the ship later.”

Sylvie snorted, sounding mildly offended. Lapin held Nessa’s eyes for just a heartbeat before turning away. As he started to walk, Nessa felt a tightness in her chest, realizing there was a question she still needed to ask him.

“Wait,” she blurted out. “Are you… coming tonight? To the… party.”

He halted, looking over his shoulder at her. He didn’t respond immediately, as if he himself was unsure. “Well,” he said after a moment, “I… suppose it would be rather boring if I… simply stayed on the ship.”

Something like relief bloomed within her. Her lips slowly formed a smile, practically of their own volition, and he gave her a small smile back. Then he was heading down the street, Lenny and Toro close behind him.

Nessa had only a few seconds to watch him go before Sylvie’s hand came down on her shoulder. “You want him so bad,” the cat said, amused.

Nessa flinched. She pulled away from Sylvie, her fur prickling with heat. “Ugh, please shut up.”

“Definitely not,” Sylvie said, poking her cheek. “You want him to take you dancing. ”

Nessa swatted her hand away. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Oh, you totally do. You are not subtle, Bun-Bun.”

“Oh, leave me alone,” Nessa said, sighing. She and Sylvie began to walk, going nowhere in particular. “I don’t know. Can he even dance?”

“Pfft. I dunno. Never seen him.”

Sylvie took another sip from her cup, and Nessa snatched it from her, tossing it into a nearby trash can.

“Hey!” the cat objected.

“I’m supposed to be sobering you up, remember?”

“What’s the point of that? I’m gonna be wasted by the end of the night anyway.”

Truthfully, Nessa wasn’t sure why Lapin wanted Sylvie sober, but she supposed there was some reason for it. “Let’s just… walk around, okay? We can, uh… window shop.”

Sylvie blew a raspberry. “Booooooring. Let’s go to a bar.”

“We can go to a bar tonight, can’t we?”

“Hm. Guess that’s true.” Sylvie scratched her ear. “You wearin’ that out tonight?”

She indicated Nessa’s outfit, and Nessa looked down at her dirty, worn out clothes, her cardigan that desperately needed a wash. Realization hit her like a falling house.

Oh gods. She could not stay dressed like this.

“Shit,” she said. “I can’t—I don’t—I don’t have anything nice.”

“Psh. You look fine,” Sylvie said breezily. “I’m not sweating what to wear. I mean, look at me. I am all set.”

She gestured to herself, looking utterly confident, and Nessa smiled awkwardly. “ You look fine. But I just—no. I cannot go out looking like this.”

“Whatcha usually wear out?”

Nessa bit her lip. “I, uh… don’t really go out much, actually. I mean, I didn’t—back home. But for something like this, I guess I’d wear… a nice dress, or something.” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t just get a dress. Pretty sure that’s not in the budget.”

Sylvie studied Nessa for a moment, as if putting two and two together, then smirked. “Ohh, I get it. A dress. You wanna look all sexy for Lapin.”

Nessa’s ears burned. “ What? ”

“Yeah, I see you. You’re all sweet and innocent on the surface, but you’re really just a freak, aren’t you, Ness?”

“You—psh—Oh, please. You’re still drunk.”

Sylvie grabbed Nessa’s wrist. “Well, come on. Let’s go get you a dress.”

Nessa gaped at her. “ What? We can’t just—”

“Oh, shut up. Let’s just go!”

Nessa could hardly protest as Sylvie dragged her off.

Chapter Text

Below deck, Nessa smoothed down her dress, marveling at the way it so comfortably hugged her body. She reached for her jacket—as new as the dress itself—and with that, her outfit was complete.

“Daaaamn.”

Someone wolf-whistled, and she turned to find Sylvie walking down the steps. Nessa rolled her eyes, though she was smiling. “Thank goodness I’m dressed. ”

“Eh, I knew you were. You were taking long enough.” Sylvie looked her up and down, nodding approvingly. “Wow. That really does look great on you.”

Nessa chuckled. “Thanks.”

She had to agree; it really was a nice dress—a short cocktail dress in deep, forest green, so dark it was almost black, with thin straps and a low v-neckline. It was maybe a little too nice—probably more suited for a formal event than a rowdy festival with drinks—but once she’d tried it on in that shop, she’d known there was no leaving without it. Sylvie had insisted they buy it, and Nessa had given in despite the lofty price. Somehow, they’d had the coins to pay for it, and that was that. They even bought a jacket to go with it, and that had turned out to be an excellent decision.

“The socks were a nice touch,” Sylvie noted.

Nessa flushed a little, looking down at her legs. She’d opted to wear the socks she’d bought back in Senna—black fleece stockings that traveled up to her thighs. They were meant to be worn underneath pants—intended to keep her warm in possible cold weather—but she was feeling unusually bold tonight, and had decided to put them on. They complimented her dress shockingly well.

“You don’t think they’re too much?” she asked Sylvie.

“Well, if sexy’s what you’re going for, you nailed it.” The cat said with a smirk. “That’ll get Lapin for sure.”

Nessa huffed out a laugh, warm in the face. “I’m not trying to—to get him, or whatever you’re talking about.”

“Sure you’re not,” Sylvie said humorously. “You ready to go?”

Nessa spun around once, testing the feeling of her dress, her outfit. She felt good. She didn’t have a mirror down here, but she knew she looked good, too. The rest of the animals had already gone to the party, even Luther, who was more than happy to be relieved of his guard duties for a night. Only Lapin was still on the ship with them; he’d claimed he still had some work to finish in his cabin, then he would be joining everyone.

“Is he still in there?” Nessa asked.

“Think so,” Sylvie answered. “But don’t worry—he’ll come out soon. He is not gonna wanna miss this.”

Nessa giggled, but a part of her was slightly concerned. Lapin was still in his cabin? Why? “Should we wait for him?”

“Nah, nah. We can go. He’ll know where to find us.”

Nessa thought for a moment, ultimately deciding she trusted Sylvie on that. After a few heartbeats, she nodded. “Okay.”

“C’mon, let’s go! I bet the boys are already hammered.”

Together, the two raced up the stairs, leaving the ship and heading down the dock towards town.

Night had fallen some time ago, and with all its dazzling lights shining in the dark, Eika was truly a spectacle. It seemed like the whole town was abuzz in the streets, talking and mingling and moving from place to place. There were animals everywhere, all dressed in bright colors, many with drinks in hand. Nessa looked for the faces of her crewmates, but couldn’t seem to find them. She wasn’t worried, though; no doubt, they were exactly where they wanted to be, probably getting drunk one way or another.

“Jeez, it’s crowded,” Sylvie remarked, raising her voice to be heard over the din of voices. “Everyone’s out in the streets. What do you wanna do?”

Nessa tried to decide on something. Admittedly, she was already very overstimulated; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone to a big event like this. There were so many things to see and do, and she had no idea what to tackle first. “I don’t know. Let’s try going to the square.”

She and Sylvie pushed through the crowd, making their way through the decorated marketplace, deeper into town. Most of the stands from earlier that day were exclusively selling food or drinks, and as they passed, Sylvie was quick to grab two cups being offered.

“M’lady,” Sylvie said, handing one of the cups to Nessa.

“Oh—thanks.” Nessa took it from her. She examined the pale orange drink. “Uh—what is it?”

“No idea. I’m drinkin’ it, though. Down the hatch!” Sylvie threw the drink back and swallowed.

Nessa sniffed the drink. It smelled sweet, like tangerines, and she decided it couldn’t hurt to try. She took a sip, coughing a little when it stung in her throat. Right—it was alcohol, not the juice she usually drank back home—but it did taste good. She drank some more.

Sylvie grabbed another drink from a nearby stand, the liquid bluish in color. “Man, this is great. They’re really just handing out free shit to everybody. All ‘cause of Limana—Lemony, whatever.”

“Lemiya,” Nessa corrected her.

“Right. Lemiya. New favorite holiday.” Sylvie threw back the blue drink. “Thanks for speakin’ up earlier. Because of you, we all get to take it easy for once.”

“Because of me?”

“Uh, yeah. The only reason Lapin agreed to stay was because of you.”

Nessa looked down into her cup, wondering if that was true. Had he only agreed to stay because she had wanted to? She supposed that was obvious enough, given the way he’d been looking at her earlier, the way he’d changed his tune after she’d mentioned dancing. He’d even agreed to hang out with them—or maybe just her in particular. She wouldn’t be opposed to the latter.

She hoped he’d be here soon.

Before long, they reached the square, and it looked even more beautiful than it had during the day. Children, families and friends were spread out all around, chatting and dancing and playing festival games, a few of which Nessa recognized. Many young animals were crouched on the ground, drawing with chalk or finger-painting on small canvases. Two little foxes laughed, spreading paint on each other’s clothes before a larger fox—presumably their mother—scolded them in Zimani.

Nessa couldn’t help but smile. It was altogether a marvelous sight. This truly was a place full of warmth and light; it reminded her of Featherbeard during their own local holidays. If it were possible, she would’ve loved to come here with her family, or bring her youngest siblings on a night when her parents couldn’t watch them.

Her heart knotted. She missed them.

“So—whatcha wanna do?” Sylvie asked, standing beside her.

Nessa continued to stare at the bustling square. After a minute, she lifted her drink to her lips, taking another sip. Sylvie had said Lapin would know where to find them; did that mean they could go anywhere? She guessed it would be a little longer before he arrived. They had some time to look around.

She was in Ziman—a place she never thought she’d visit in her lifetime, and would probably never visit again—on the night of a festival, no less. The kind of festival that only happened once a year, and wouldn’t be celebrated the same way anywhere else. She had to make the most of this night.

“I guess… everything,” she finally said.

^ ^ ^

For the next hour or two, Nessa and Sylvie kept themselves busy.

They went all around town—sightseeing, sampling drinks, and participating in games. Sylvie was easily more outgoing, unafraid to challenge a local to a contest or down as many drinks as she could, but Nessa kept up with her with her own brand of energy, surprised by her own enthusiasm that night.

There was so much to experience at the festival; everywhere they went, there was some new thing to try or participate in. There were cooks and vendors giving out free treats and snacks; Nessa learned that dried kelp was actually quite delicious, and Sylvie practically drooled while eating her grilled mackerel on a stick. There were storytellers and street performers, local artisans handing out chalk and paints for people to use. At one point, they ran into the bulls, whose faces and clothes were covered in paint—and they were perfectly giddy about it.

Despite all the fun she was having, Nessa found herself looking for Lapin every so often, keeping her eyes open for whenever he decided to appear. Sylvie drank extremely liberally, accepting almost every drink that was offered to her, but Nessa was much more careful with her alcohol intake, allowing herself only a few drinks at a time. When he did arrive, she wanted to be sober for whatever happened next. She waited.

As the night went on, though, and Lapin still hadn’t shown up, she began to worry. Was he here, just having trouble finding them in the crowd? No, that couldn’t be it. Had he changed his mind about coming? Decided it was a waste of time? Truthfully, she’d never pictured him in a place like this—or at any kind of party, for that matter—but that wouldn’t make his absence any less disheartening.

Animals had been dancing all night—in different areas around the square, inside bars and open restaurants—but Nessa had been putting it off, set on waiting for Lapin. She realized that maybe that was pathetic. Once he got here, would he even want to dance with her? Was he going to come at all? She wished the possibility of him not coming didn’t bother her so much.

Hoping to ease her nerves, she took a drink from Sylvie, downing it almost all in one go. “Whoa, princess, what’s up?” the cat asked, slurring slightly.

Nessa wiped her mouth. “Do you think he stayed on the ship?”

“Lapin?” Sylvie thought about it, swishing her drink. “No, no. He’s coming. Heeeee’s coming. Trust me.”

Nessa wasn’t so sure anymore. It had been almost two hours, and there was still no sign of him. She finished her drink, crushing it more aggressively than intended before throwing it into a trashcan.

If he’d decided not to come, that was fine. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise her all that much. But she didn’t want to think about it anymore. She didn’t want to let the thought of it ruin her night. She needed something to keep her occupied, to take her mind off of him.

“Let’s go to that bar,” she said abruptly, taking Sylvie by the wrist.

“Yooouuu got it, Bun-Bun.” Sylvie stumbled a bit as she followed. “I am right behind you.”

The bar—called The Lamprey in Zimani—was filled to the brim with animals, both townspeople and visitors alike. A band was playing loud, thrumming music in the corner, most of the bar goers dancing in the center of the main room while everyone else kept to the sides or sat drinking at the bar counter. Nessa headed for the counter, dragging Sylvie with her. Naturally, every seat was taken, but she found a place to stand between two animals sitting at the bar.

“Two beet shots, please,” she said to the bartender. He nodded and turned away, and she and Sylvie stood to the side while they waited.

Nessa leaned against the wall, tapping her foot restlessly. She was too sober. She needed something to drink, or she’d never be able to relax.

Unable to resist, she looked around the room, searching for a familiar pale face. When she didn’t find it, she looked down, feeling heavy.

If he’d wanted to come, he would have found her by now.

“He’s not coming,” she muttered—to herself or to Sylvie, she wasn’t certain.

Sylvie didn’t respond, and after a moment, Nessa lifted her head. The cat’s eyes were focused on something else, something nearby. She turned back to Nessa, blinking as if breaking out of a trance. “Huh? What’d you say, Ness?”

Curious, Nessa glanced across the bar, realizing what Sylvie had been looking at: a pretty young rabbit in a blue dress. The rabbit had pure white fur and a pink nose, her eyes fixed almost boredly on the glass in her hand. She looked over in Nessa’s direction—or more specifically, Sylvie’s direction—only to look away quickly when she noticed Nessa’s inquisitive stare.

Nessa understood right away. For a second, she forgot how miserable she felt and let her lips form a smirk. “See something you like, Sylvie?”

“Hm?” Having been stealing a glance at the rabbit again, it took Sylvie a moment to register the question. Once she did, her ears fell back. “Wait—what? Me? Uh…” She shrugged, oddly bashful. “Uh—yeah. Maybe.”

Nessa caught the white rabbit looking for Sylvie again, and she felt a twinge of something in her chest. Without thinking, Nessa nudged her friend. “Go talk to her.”

Sylvie’s eyes bulged. “What? Now?”

“Yeah. She keeps looking over here.”

“Really?” The cat visibly perked up, her whiskers twitching with interest. “Well, I mean—I guess I could, but—what about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” Nessa said, her response coming faster than intended. “Go talk to her. I know you want to.”

“What about the drinks?”

Nessa let out a rueful laugh. “I can… drink them both. I could use them.”

Sylvie laughed too, but a few seconds passed, her smile fading slowly. She studied Nessa, brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, ” Nessa insisted, even though it was a lie. She pushed the cat lightly. “Go, go. I’ll be around, okay?”

Sylvie held her gaze, concern in her blue eyes. She was way past tipsy, that much was clear, but she wasn’t oblivious. “Ness,” she said, “he’s gonna be here, okay?”

Nessa’s throat was tight. She didn’t know if she believed that. She didn’t know if Sylvie was right—if she could trust Lapin to be here for her, the way she wanted him to be—but still, she forced herself to give her friend the smallest of smiles. “Okay.”

Sylvie gave her a hint of a nod, smiling back. She looked at Nessa a heartbeat longer, then she turned. She took a deep breath, dusting off the front of her shirt. “Okay. Okay—I’m gonna do it. Wish me luck.”

With a chuckle, Nessa said, “Good luck.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“Not if you guys hit it off.”

“Ha—we’ll see.”

Nessa watched Sylvie head off, slipping in between animals and making a rather awkward, half-drunk beeline for the rabbit. Nessa allowed herself a soft giggle. Whether Sylvie succeeded or failed at this endeavor, there would be something to talk about later.

At that moment, the bartender appeared with two full shot glasses, and Nessa went to the counter to get them. She picked them up, pausing only briefly before throwing one back, then the other. The foul liquid burned on its way down, but she hardly paid it any mind.

“Anythin’ else?” he asked.

Nessa thought about it. Did she really want to keep drinking? Stand by the bar and let the rest of the night pass her by? She glanced at Sylvie, who was already lost in conversation with her new friend. The white rabbit giggled at something Sylvie said, and the cat climbed onto a seat next to her; it didn’t look like she’d be getting up anytime soon. That was okay, Nessa decided. She wanted this for Sylvie.

“No, thank you,” she answered, reaching into her pocket and sliding a coin across the counter to the bartender. Turning away, she let her feet guide her elsewhere.

Beneath the colored lights hanging from the ceiling, animals moved back and forth in the semi-darkness, swaying to the rhythm of the band’s song. Nessa wandered towards the dance floor, allured by the low tones of the music, the beat of the drums. She thought about joining the dancers; she wouldn’t look out of place among them. She didn’t need a partner to dance to this song. She didn’t need a partner at all, really. But still something held her back, and she drifted mindlessly past the sea of bodies to the other side of the bar.

She leaned back against the far wall, watching the dancers, letting the music flow in through her ears and steady her, calm her. She wasn’t alone here—there were animals all around—but for a moment, it was like she was in her own bubble. A silent spectator, observing the scene, impervious to pain or feeling. There was no loneliness or disappointment. Just her, and the music, and what was in front of her.

Then she saw someone on the dance floor, weaving through the throng of animals. For a second, she thought she was imagining it, but as the figure drew closer, and she saw a particular bent ear that could only belong to one man, she knew it had to be real.

It was Lapin—missing his striking red coat, wearing dark pants and a black collared shirt she’d never seen him in before. His eyes were on her and only her, his steps careful but determined, deliberate. The closer he got, the less she was able to move, even breathe. When he reached her, she looked up to meet his gaze, unable to speak.

“Nessa,” he said, his voice low—almost tender. “I am… glad I found you.”

Nessa stared at him, her heart pounding. He was here. Actually here. But… where had he been?

“Where… were you?” she asked, feeling weak.

He looked away, shame in his expression. “I… stayed on the ship… a bit longer than intended,” he confessed. “Longer than I… should have. But… I’m here now. It took me some time to find you, but… I did.”

Nessa wanted to be angry at him. She wanted to demand why he had spent so long on the ship, why it had taken him so long to come and find her, why he let her believe he wasn’t coming at all. But he was here now, standing in front of her, and all those heavy, awful emotions that had been clinging to her were suddenly… gone.

There was no fire inside her. Only… warmth. Relief.

She took in the sight of him, lingering on his shirt. He’d left it unbuttoned near the top, and some of his chest fur was peeking out. “You look…” Good, she wanted to say. Handsome. But she couldn’t seem to utter a word.

“Different, I suppose,” he said. “I—don’t normally… dress up. But you…” His eyes swept down her form—not lecherously, but admiringly. Longingly. “You look… stunning.”

Nessa warmed all over. For the first time all night, she remembered what she’d chosen to wear, and the reason for it. She’d wanted to look and feel good, naturally, but she’d also wanted to get his attention.

She’d absolutely succeeded.

Before she could say something, Lapin spoke. “I-I… have something for you,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “I understand this is sudden, but…”

Her heart beat faster and faster.

He withdrew his hand, something hidden inside his fist. Slowly, almost tentatively, he held it out to her, uncurling his fingers, and what she saw nearly took her breath away.

It was… a necklace. Not just any necklace—a purple Speaking Crystal at the end of a string; nearly identical to the one she had lost all those weeks ago. She took it from him, speechless.

“I… know it will never replace your old one,” he said quietly. “The… one your mother gave you. That is… not my intention, I promise you.” He swallowed. “I am… sorry about your previous necklace. I… truly am.”

Nessa gazed down at the crystal in her hands, her throat contracting with emotion. She remembered this one; she’d seen it earlier that day, hanging with others just like it.

“You… went back to that stand,” she murmured.

“Ah… yes,” Lapin replied, scratching the back of his head. “I, er… hope I got the color right. I believe your last one was purple. I’m not sure if it’s the exact same shade, but… it seemed to be close enough. I considered getting a different color, but you do seem to like the color purple…”

Nessa was lost in her own thoughts, staring at the jewel in the palm of her hand. He’d been listening earlier, when she’d told him about what her old necklace had meant to her. When he’d left with the bulls, and she’d gone off with Sylvie, he’d returned to the stand and bought one for her—knowing that it would mean something to her. Fully intending to give it to her. To make amends. He’d always meant to come find her tonight—if anything, just to give her her gift.

Her heart hurt, though the pain wasn’t born from sadness. He was right. This wasn’t the exact same necklace, and it wouldn’t replace the one her mother had given her, but… that didn’t make this gesture any less real.

She wasn’t ready to forgive him for everything just yet. But she couldn’t deny the gratitude she felt. This was not the same Lapin she’d met a month ago. Not even close.

She far preferred this one—in every way.

There were so many things she wanted to say, but all she could manage was a soft, sincere, “Thank you.”

Lapin blinked, a relieved look crossing his features, then gradually, he began to smile. “You are… welcome.”

Nessa didn’t look away from him, nor did he look away from her. She lifted her necklace, holding it out to him. “Will you… put it on me?”

He hesitated a heartbeat, then he nodded. He took it from her, and she turned, allowing him to reach around her and tie the necklace behind her neck. The tips of his claws brushed her fur as he secured the string, sending a shiver down her spine.

He stepped back. “Good?”

Nessa looked down, admiring the crystal now hanging from her neck. Nestled in the center of the V of her dress, it felt so right resting on her chest, like something she’d been missing had finally been returned to her.

She smiled up at him. “Yeah.”

He smiled back.

Just then, the song ended, and the band started playing a new one. A low, steady tune; dark, almost hypnotic. Lapin’s ear twitched as he listened to the music, moving his head ever so slightly to the beat. He faced her, extending his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Nessa’s body thrummed, excitement building inside her. She’d been waiting all night for him to ask—not that she would confess that so readily.

After what he’d done, he’d earned at least one dance.

She took his hand with a sly smile. “You may.”

He smirked, guiding her towards the dance floor.

There was nothing neat or simple about the rhythm of the dancers—it was all feeling, no technique, no coordination—but Nessa and Lapin found their place among the rest. Slowly but surely, they began to dance, moving in time with the song, and Nessa allowed herself to let go of all that had been ailing her and give in to the music—and to her partner.

She watched Lapin move. She hadn’t known what to expect from him, but it was clear he at least knew how to dance. He knew how to move his lower body, though he seemed a little awkward at first, unsure what to do with his upper half. His arms and hands seemed a little lost, as if he were looking for something to hold—making Nessa wonder if his experience with dance was mostly formal—but it didn’t take long for him to ease into the flow.

She could practically see him relax—his shoulders untensing, his movements becoming looser, more fluid. Freer. She matched his energy, her confidence steadily growing.

“You’re a good dancer,” he remarked.

She laughed. “I don’t know. There’s not a lot to it.”

“Did you often do this?” he asked. “Back in Featherbeard?”

“What, going out? Dancing?” Nessa shook her head. “Would you believe me if I said I was a homebody?”

Lapin chuckled. “Yes, I believe I would. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

She laughed again. Unable to resist, she inched closer to him, swaying her hips. He copied her motion, the colorful lights dancing on his silver fur.

He let his eyes travel up the length of her body, and she saw his tongue slide between his teeth. “You really are beautiful.”

She gave him a coy look. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he returned. “I can hardly take my eyes off of you.”

Her fur tingled with heat. “Are you leering at me?” she asked playfully.

“Maybe I am,” he said slyly. “I'm not exactly a gentleman. There are... admittedly other words I could use to describe you.”

“Oh?” She shot him a smirk. “Like what?”

Lapin reached for her, taking her hand in his. “Alluring.” He pulled her closer to him, his other hand settling on her waist. “Ravishing, even.”

Nessa looked up at him, hot under her clothes. She didn’t let go of his hand, instead changing her movements so they were timed with his. “Strong words.”

He took a step back, spinning her once before pulling her towards him again. “Only strong words can be used to describe you, my dear.”

She flushed, avoiding his eyes. “I could… say the same about you.”

“Is that so?”

She looked at his shirt again. She bit her lip, only to stop when she realized what she was doing. “You look… very handsome tonight.”

He cocked his head, smiling. “Oh, really?”

“Mhm,” she said, finding her boldness once more. “But there are… admittedly other words I could use to describe you.”

Lapin’s hand crept down her hip, tugging at the hem of her short dress. “Oh? Like what?”

Nessa leaned into him. “Ravishing.”

He grinned. “Mm. You flatter me… but I’m afraid that word belongs to you.”

“Fine, then.” One hand on his chest, she tilted her chin and spoke into his ear. “Sexy.”

She sensed something in his posture shifting, and Lapin let out a low, growling laugh. “How sweet you are,” he said, pulling her flush against him. “Few would use that word to describe me.”

Smirking, she turned her body all the way around. Fully pressed against him, she leaned her back into his chest. “And what words do people use to describe you?”

She felt his claws on her thighs, gripping her through the fabric of her socks. “Wicked,” he purred, his breath warm on her ear. “Dangerous. Cruel.”

Nessa fought the urge to shudder. She was already so hot, and her temperature only seemed to keep rising. “Wicked, maybe,” she said. “Dangerous—yes. But cruel…” She reached up, running her hand down his jaw, then neck. “I’m not so sure.”

It was a lie. He was cruel; she knew firsthand how cruel he could be. But she also knew exactly what she was saying—and her intentions behind it.

She felt his breath hitch against her. He grabbed her hand, running it over his lips. “Do you want me to be cruel?”

A part of her was glad he couldn’t see her face, see how flustered she was becoming. But he could feel her, probably feel her pulse racing through her wrist, and she was sure he had to know already. “Is that what kind of lover you are?” she asked, before she could stop herself.

Lapin squeezed her hand. Abruptly, he spun her back around, his arm around her waist as he drew her flush against him once again. His eyes locked with hers. “I can show you what kind of lover I am,” he breathed.

His words hung in the air, heavy with desire, with meaning, and Nessa knew, unquestionably, what they meant. She didn’t dare look away from him.

Even as animals danced and swayed around them, it was as if they were the only two people in the room. Time seemed to stop, waiting for her to say something. To finally let go of everything holding her back, to give in to the thing she had been wanting all this time, the thing she had so fervently been suppressing, denying.

She knew what she wanted—but she couldn’t possibly have it. It was foolish. It was insane. It could only end in disaster. But his hands were so warm through her dress, his dark eyes so cloudy with longing, and she wanted so desperately to pull him close and just kiss him like nothing else mattered. Like tonight could be theirs, just once. Could it be?

What would happen, if they did this? Would it be the end of everything? Or would it be the beginning?

Before she could change her mind, she took the collar of his shirt in her hands and uttered, “Let’s get out of here.”

Chapter Text

The race back to the ship was a blur. All Nessa knew was that she was running, high on adrenaline, Lapin’s hand in hers as they wove through crowds of partying animals. When they finally made it to the ship, there was no one else aboard, and together they rushed to the captain’s quarters and shut the door behind them.

His hands on her hips, Lapin shoved her back against the wall, capturing her mouth with ravenous greed. A soft moan in her throat, she kissed him back, tasting sweet and sour tangs on his tongue. Had he tried some of the drinks at the party? She hadn’t expected him to.

“You had a drink?” she mumbled.

“One or two,” he confessed against her lips. “For… courage.”

Nessa laughed breathlessly. “ Courage? For what?”

“To see you again. And…” She felt his claw hook around her necklace. “To give you this.”

Her heart swelled, the heat within her climbing. It exhilarated her, thinking about how he’d been tonight. Needing courage just to see her again. Wanting to impress her. To do right by her. It was all so unlike him. It was thrilling.

It made her all the more desperate to have him.

She grabbed the collar of his shirt as she kissed him, pulling him closer. He groaned into her mouth, squeezing her waist through her dress, gripping her ass. He dug his nails into the fleece of her socks. “You look,” he breathed, “so delectable in these.”

Nessa made a sound like a purr, delighted by the praise. “I wore them for you.”

She felt him smile wickedly. “Is that right?”

“Mmm—mhm.”

Lapin growled approvingly, kissing her harder, and she kissed him back just as hard. She shrugged off her jacket, letting it fall to the floor, and his hands were at the straps of her dress, tugging at them insistently. He pulled one down her shoulder with his claw, eliciting a gasp from her.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” he whispered, breaking free of the kiss and bringing his lips to her neck.

Nessa moaned softly when he kissed her there, the sound sharpening into a wail as he bit into her, not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to send a violent shiver through her. She held onto his shirt as if to steady herself, and he grasped her hips as he kissed and sucked, his mouth moving from her neck to her shoulder. He pressed himself against her as he marked her, and she could feel the painful hardness through his pants, warm and eager like the rest of him.

I’ve waited so long for this.

So had she. She could finally admit that to herself. If she was being honest, she’d probably wanted him longer than she even realized. Maybe he had, too. Weeks of proximity, of strange, confusing feelings, of dancing around each other and the way they felt. It had all led them to this moment. They could no longer hide anything from one another.

She could no longer hide anything from him.

Nessa leaned her head back, eyelids fluttering as she let him kiss her, mark her with his hungry mouth. This felt so good. So right. There was no pollen to control them this time, to make them act without thinking. It was just the two of them, both in their right minds, barely even tipsy. This was real.

Lapin kissed the fur of her chest, dragging his lips down the V of her neckline, and she shuddered with pleasure. “I need you,” he murmured against her. “I need you. My Nessa.”

She nearly whimpered at the warmth, the tenderness in his tone.

“Let me make love to you.” He pulled down the other strap of her dress, kissing lower and lower. “Be mine. I need you to be mine. ”

He kissed all down her chest, lowering his body as he kept going. His warm palms traveled up her thighs, under the hem of her dress, reaching for her underwear. He took hold of the fabric, and she was ready for him to tear it away, to bare her to him and touch her the way she needed him to—

“Wait,” she said.

Lapin stopped, peering up at her. Lust was heavy in his eyes, but for a moment, they clouded with concern. “What is it?”

Nessa’s heart was pounding. Meeting his gaze as squarely as she could, she said, “Beg.”

He blinked, confused. “What?”

“Beg for it,” she repeated, breathing shakily. “Tell me—tell me how badly you need this. How much you need me. Before—before we do this.”

He stared up at her, bewildered. There was no doubt she’d caught him completely off-guard. But even so, he swallowed, then said, “I… need you. Nessa.”

“Get on your knees,” she ordered. She wanted him—more than anything. But for once, she was going to tell him what to do.

Though he was clearly stunned, to her surprise, he obeyed. Without breaking eye contact, Lapin sank lower, kneeling before her with his hands on the floor. “I need you,” he said again. “I—I need you. So badly.”

Heat pulsed between her legs. He looked so different like this. So vulnerable. So… helpless. At her mercy, just like she’d been at his mercy all these weeks.

“What do you need?” she asked, keeping her voice even. Controlled.

“You,” he answered, gazing up at her with the same hunger she’d seen in the garden. “I need you. I need—I need your body. Your mind. Your everything. ” His nails gripped the wood beneath him. “I need to have you. All of you.”

It was so hard to keep her composure, seeing him like this, hearing the desperation in his words. But she restrained herself nonetheless, waiting for him to continue. It wasn’t enough. She needed more.

“You drive me wild,” Lapin went on, breathing harder. “You’re perfect. So beautiful, so clever. I need you all to myself. To touch you, feel you. I need to—I need to fuck you.”

His admission took Nessa’s breath away. He was getting more blunt, more honest, dropping formalities as he got more and more riled up. It was intoxicating, and she needed more. She needed to know how far he was willing to go for this.

“Beg for it,” she commanded.

He wet his lips, a starved look in his eyes. “Please,” he said, his voice low. “Please. Let me fuck you.”

The flames of her own desire were rapidly burning higher. This feeling of control, of having power over him, was like nothing she’d ever felt. “ Beg. ”

“ Please. ” He inched closer to her, wrapping his claws around her ankle. “Please, darling. Let me fuck you. Let me please you.” He kissed her lower leg, his plea dripping with need. “I’ll do anything. ”

Nessa stifled a moan, a chill rippling through her at the feeling of his lips on her. Gods, he sounded so weak. Like he really would do anything for her. Anything, just to have her.

“Anything?” she said in a whisper.

“Anything,” he uttered, rubbing his cheek against her leg as he stroked it. “Anything for you, my sweet. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Power. Gold, treasure. A crown, just like the one I’ll have. I’ll make you my queen, and everyone in the kingdom will know it. My beautiful, perfect queen.”

She couldn’t ignore the effect those words had on her. She’d never wanted to be his queen, never even thought it possible, but right now, hearing him talk about it, it was like music to her ears. Queen of Featherbeard. Lapin’s queen. Why did it sound so good?

“Please,” he begged, his breath warm on her fur. “Let me have you. I’ve been such a fool. Mistreating you. Undermining you. You deserved so much better.” He kissed her knee. “Forgive me, darling. I’ll make it all up to you. Be mine, and I’ll show you how much you mean to me. How much I crave you. Just please —please. ”

Nessa could barely think with the way he was clinging to her, kissing her. She lifted her foot ever so slightly, nudging his crotch, finding him impossibly hard. He gazed up at her, and he looked so pitiful, so needy, she wanted to drop to her knees too and fuck him right there on the floor.

But there was one more thing she needed him to do. One more thing he could do to prove himself to her.

She reached down, allowing herself to caress his cheek. He leaned into her hand, his eyes glossing over, and she ran her claw down his face, twisting the curl of fur at the bottom of his chin. He parted his lips drunkenly, a slave to her touch.

“Show me,” she murmured, letting go and using both hands to slide her underwear down her hips. “Show me how much you need me.”

Lapin watched, mesmerized, as she stepped out of her underwear and lifted her dress up above her waist, revealing her bare pussy. He stared at her entrance, the flesh already wet with anticipation, and licked his lips. Without saying a word, he moved closer, then planted his hands on her thighs and stuck his mouth between them.

Nessa cried out when she felt his warm tongue on her pussy, licking a long, experimental stripe up her slit before flattening and dragging itself over her opening. She spread her legs wider for him, her back against the wall as he got to work, gripping her thighs tightly before slipping his tongue all the way inside her.

He stretched her walls gently as he breached her entrance, and his tentativeness made her wonder if he’d ever done this before. It wouldn’t surprise her—sexually, he probably wasn’t used to being on the giving side of things—but if that was true, it hardly mattered now. Even without practice, his tongue and mouth seemed to know what to do; they moved slowly at first, gingerly, but she could feel his enthusiasm growing the more he tasted her, and soon he was savoring her like a succulent meal. With two fingers, he spread her lips a little wider, and she whined as he licked and sucked and kissed.

Gods, it was so good. He’d known how to pleasure her with his fingers, but feeling his mouth on her like this was something else entirely. Nessa threw her head back, her hands at the back of his head, pushing him closer to her. She needed to feel more of him, more.

“La—Lapin,” she moaned, shutting her eyes at the ecstasy of it. If he really was trying to prove his need for her, he was succeeding.

He was devouring her like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, gripping her upper thighs, moaning low against her. His nose bumped her clit lightly as he ate, his whiskers tickling her sensitive pelvic fur, and she couldn’t help but spill more and more whines. He lifted his head just slightly, lavishing the bud of her clit with his tongue, and she practically squealed, grabbing ahold of his ears. He grunted against her, as if surprised, but didn’t stop.

“Fuck,” she choked out. She couldn’t take much more of this; it’d only been a couple of minutes, and she was already so close to her climax. “Fuck. I need—I need—”

Lapin groaned, his ears twitching in her hold as he listened, but still he didn’t stop. He was just as turned on as she was, if not more.

“Fuck me,” she gasped, bucking her hips. There was nothing holding her back anymore. “Fuck me. Fuck me, please— ”

Lapin didn’t wait for her to say another word. With a desperate growl, he tore himself back from her and rose to his feet. Grabbing her by the waist, he hoisted her towards the desk several feet away and threw her onto it. Nessa let out a squeak as her back hit the wood semi-roughly, sending papers flying. Her legs were still hanging off the edge of the desk, and she raised her head to find him standing between them, gritting his teeth as he fumbled with his belt. Before long, he had his cock out, his claws wrapped around it as he ran his eyes up her body.

He leaned over her, grasping her thighs to lift and open them. “Next time, I’ll undress you,” he said breathlessly, lining himself up with her. “But right now, I won’t wait another second to fuck you. ”

Nessa could hardly breathe as she braced herself. Biting his lip hard, he pushed into her.

She wailed as he shoved himself deep inside of her, her soaked walls throbbing around him as her heat set in. She dug her nails into the wood of the desk, trying her best to adjust to his size. He was big, far bigger than the rabbits she’d been with in the past, but she was so wet, so eager to take him, that the initial pain was already fading away. Lapin moaned harshly as he drove himself deeper, bottoming out within her, and the pleasure of it had her crying out louder, hooking her legs around him and pulling him closer.

Breathing raggedly, he paused and gazed down at her, as if marveling at the sight before him. He let out a low sound, one of pure lust or amazement or perhaps many other things, then slowly, he began to thrust. Steadily, carefully, then faster, faster, his grip tight on her thighs. Before long, he was setting a punishing pace, and Nessa was moaning louder and louder with every stroke.

Gods, he was inside her. They were mating. By penetrating her, he’d induced her heat, and it had taken control of her completely. Her mind was hazy, her body aching and hot to the touch, and all she could think about was him, him, him. Lapin, the man who was fucking her. Her mate.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d mated; it had to have been well over a year. For many animals, mating wasn’t a serious commitment—especially not for rabbits and hares—but Nessa herself wasn’t one to mate with just anybody. For her, having her heat induced was one of the most vulnerable things she could let herself do, and in her lifetime, she’d only mated with two animals—both of whom had been rabbits. Not only was Lapin a hare, but he was the first partner she hadn’t been dating beforehand, the first partner she hadn’t envisioned a real future with.

This was nothing like her past experiences—not even close. Compared to her previous lovers, Lapin hadn’t done nearly enough to earn her trust, to deserve her vulnerability. He was barely a friend, and certainly not her boyfriend. Only recently had he stopped being her enemy. He was brash, unpredictable, and this tryst was an impulsive decision, no planning or preparation, driven solely by passion.

She had no idea what would happen after this—if this encounter would bring them closer, if it would complicate everything. If she would resent him or fall in love with him. She didn’t know if she loved him now. Maybe this was all lust. Maybe when all this was over, they would realize this had been a mistake, and they’d go right back to hating each other.

But somehow, none of that mattered to her. Not right now. She wanted to forget everything. She wanted to feel good and just be.

Lapin groaned, letting go of her thighs to bring his palms down on the desk, one on either side of her head. His dark eyes were lidded, his voice breathy with effort. “You feel… perfect. ”

Nessa whimpered in response. She stared up at him, lost in herself, lost in the feeling of him inside her. Her heart was bursting, though she couldn’t yet comprehend why. Overwhelmed with emotion, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to meet her lips with his.

Their mouths tangled together, moans muffled by nipping teeth and weaving tongues that only grew more passionate. Nessa tugged at his shirt, slipping her palms under the fabric and feeling all over his chest, his soft fur between her fingers. In turn, he squeezed her hips as he thrust into her, his hands sliding under her dress, roving up and down her body like he was trying to touch every inch of her, commit it all to memory. He broke free of the kiss to nip at her jaw, and each tiny bite had her cooing with pleasure.

“Good girl, so good,” he murmured. “So—so warm and wet…”

Nessa let out a whimper, clawing at his back through his shirt.

“I need you,” he uttered, his breath hot on her ear. “I need you like this, always… every day, every night…”

He hit her deep, and she arched her back with a moan. “L-Lapin…”

He shuddered. “Yes, yes, say my name…” He nuzzled her, kissing her neck. “Say it, darling…”

“Lapin,” she breathed, caressing the back of his head, the base of his ears.

“Nessa,” he whispered. His hips stuttered slightly. “Gods… I need… I love…”

She held him close, her heart rattling in her ribcage. He was so warm, and the way he was fucking her felt so right, his pelvis grinding against her clit, guiding her back on the way to her orgasm. Had sex ever felt this good? Why had she waited so long to have this? She never wanted it to end.

“Please.” Lapin was thrusting harder, faster, his voice rough with desperation. “Please… say you’ll be mine. Say you’ll be mine.”

Nessa dug her claws into his back, her thighs holding fast around his waist. She didn’t need to think about her words before uttering them. “I’m yours. I’m yours…”

“Be my queen. Say you’ll be my queen… gods, please…”

She nodded and nodded. She would be his queen. She would be whatever he wanted. She would bear his kits if she could. “Yes… yes, I will… I will…”

He made a strangled noise, his thrusts becoming more erratic. “Gods, if only I—if only I could—give you a family,” he panted. “Give us both a family. You—you would look so beautiful, carrying my children…”

Nessa mewled, hopelessly aroused by his words. If only it were possible. Rabbits and hares were so similar, compatible enough to mate, but not enough to have children together. But that didn’t stop her from wanting that. Badly.

“Give them to me,” she mumbled. “Give me your kits…”

Lapin raised his head, staring down at her with wide eyes. “What?”

“Give them to me,” she said again, splaying her hands on his chest. “Give me your kits. Please, just give it to me—”

He blinked, equal lust and bewilderment in his expression. “You mean you—want me to—”

“Cum in me,” she breathed. “Cum in me. Please. ”

Something flashed in his eyes, and as her plea registered in his brain, all at once, his demeanor changed. He bit down on his lip, then was fucking her harshly, aggressively, keeping himself upright on his elbows. A shrill, keening cry left Nessa’s throat, the desk shaking back and forth with the force of his thrusts. The Journal toppled over the edge, hitting the floor with a thud, but Lapin paid it no mind.

“I’ll give them to you,” he growled. “I’ll give you my kits. I’ll fuck you until you’re full of me. You’ll—you’ll have no choice but to bear my children.”

Nessa gazed up at the ceiling, her eyes rolling back. Yes, yes…

“You’ll take my seed,” he said, panting. “Every drop. You’re mine. You’re mine. ”

“Yes,” she said mindlessly. “Yes, y-yes, please—L-Lapin—”

He groaned loudly, as if hearing his name on her lips was the key to everything. “I’m going—going to—”

Nessa hurtling towards her climax, the pressure against her clit building and building. “Please. Please. ”

“Nessa. I lo— lo— ”

His strangled gasps of pleasure were the last things she heard before she shattered, ears ringing as her orgasm seized her body. Her walls clenched around him, gripping him with everything they had, and he was moaning out as he too reached his peak. His cock pulsed and twitched inside her, painting her insides with thick seed, and she kept her thighs wrapped around him, determined not to let him go. Not until the last drop had been spilled.

Give it to me, give it to me, give it to me.

Nessa held onto him like she was drowning, and he was the only thing that could keep her above water. With glazed eyes, Lapin slumped forward, collapsing on top of her, limbs shaking against her. Both of them were trembling, breathing hard, hearts beating in tandem. It was just like that day in the garden—only the two of them, in the wake of their climaxes, leaning on one another like they were the only animals on Earth.

But unlike that day, she didn’t feel horror, regret, seeping in as her mind began to clear. She didn’t want to push him away, deny that any of this had happened. There was no guilt or disgust or fear. There was only warmth. Clarity.

Lying there on the desk, she held him close. Almost hesitantly, she felt him hold her back.

Chapter Text

Nessa laid there, the warmth of Lapin’s body heating her fur. She could feel his heart beating steadily, feel the rise and fall of his chest as he caught his breath, and she let herself run her claws up and down his back, soothing him as they both recovered from the heights of their pleasure.

After so much yearning, so much confusion and tension and newly-discovered desire, the two of them had finally given in and mated. It was an act that their kind did often, that much was true, but regardless, it was an act that could not be taken back. It might have been impulsive, but it meant something. To her—and, she hoped, to him as well. She would not have given herself to him otherwise.

She’d feared she would regret her decision as soon as it was all over. But lying on the desk, her arms around him, she could only think about how good it had felt, how right she had been to do this with him. They’d mated, and that realization came with unexpected exhilaration.

They held one another for a long moment, rocking back and forth slightly as the ship swayed, then Lapin lifted his head to meet her eyes. He looked tired, and she wondered briefly if there was something wrong, but the smile that formed on his lips put her fears to rest.

“Hello,” he murmured.

Nessa felt herself smiling back. “Hello.”

It was almost funny, looking at him now, knowing what they were doing—what they had just done. So much had happened since the day she’d met him; she never would’ve expected to one day find herself in this position, lying under him, feeling like a smitten kit after mating with him. Unable to help herself, she giggled.

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said. “I just… can’t believe we just did that.”

“Ah.” Lapin chuckled, his smile returning. “I… suppose I feel the same.” He raised a claw, running it down the side of her face. “You were… everything I’d hoped for, and more.”

Her heart swelled, her eyes closing as she let him caress her. She reopened them with a smirk. “So you’ve imagined this before.”

He smirked back. “Naturally. And I assume you have as well.”

She shrugged, playing coy. “Maybe.”

“Oh?” Humming, he leaned in with interest. “And have your fantasies been fulfilled, my dear?”

Nessa let out a snorting laugh, pushing at him a bit. “Oh, please. Get off of me.”

“Not until you tell me how amazing I was.”

She laughed incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Deathly,” he said cheekily.

“What? You want me to tell you how big your cock was?” she teased. “That you fucked me so well, I’ll never want anyone else?”

“Mmm… I do like the sound of all that. But just be honest with me, darling. I want to hear it.”

Nessa rolled her eyes, unable to fully hide her smile. “Fine, it was good. Really good.”

Lapin looked down at her slyly. “Am I… better than your previous lovers?”

She laughed again, avoiding his eyes. “Oh, come on.” In all honesty, yes, he was better, flustering as that was to admit. Knowing he would continue to pester her, she decided to answer truthfully. “Alright, yes. You were. Happy?”

He grinned. “Oh, yes. Quite. ”

He bent lower to kiss her on the lips. He kissed her without tongue or teeth, without fury or unbridled passion. It was a gentle, almost loving kiss, though a brief one. He leaned back, pulling himself carefully out of her, and she shivered as his cock left her body, leaving her feeling almost empty. He offered her his hand, and she took it, sitting upright on the edge of the desk.

She stretched, letting her blood flow back downward. There was a slight ache between her legs, some soreness in her back from lying on the hard wooden desk, but marvelously, nothing seemed to hurt.

“Are you alright?” he asked, tucking his cock back into his pants.

“I feel… good,” she answered, meaning it. “Could I… maybe clean myself, though? With a cloth, or… something.”

“Ah. Yes. Certainly.” Lapin nodded, heading towards the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

Nessa swung her legs back and forth as she waited for him, inhaling and exhaling deeply. She still couldn’t believe she was here—in his room, freshly fucked, letting him tend to her. She really did feel good—and that surprised her—but she was also exhausted. It was stuffy in the cabin, too, and she wanted to get out of her clothes.

Lapin returned with a cloth, which he gave to her. “Thank you,” she said before dipping it under her dress, drying up the fluids leaking out of her—some his, some her own.

She flushed, remembering how in the heat of the moment, she’d begged him to finish inside of her—and he had obliged. Had he been a rabbit, his seed would no doubt have impregnated her, and there would be no going back from that. He couldn’t give her kits, not naturally, but that didn’t make what she’d done any less serious. Intimate. To a rabbit partner, it would have been a plea to start a family, the most vulnerable thing she could possibly do while in heat. For many rabbits, it was viewed as the ultimate declaration of love.

But she hadn’t said it out of love for him, had she? She didn’t want to start a family with him. It wasn’t possible. She wasn’t sure why she’d said it. She’d been lost in the throes of passion; that was the only explanation for it. Surely he knew that, too. Did hares view that sort of thing the same way rabbits did? Did it hold the same weight to them?

She wasn’t certain if she wanted it to or not.

Lapin listened at the door. “They’re all still out, it seems,” he remarked. “No doubt drinking themselves into a stupor.”

Nessa hummed a chuckle. She wondered what they were all doing now. Were they taking care of themselves? How had things gone for Sylvie with that pretty white rabbit? Whatever they were all doing, she hoped they were having fun. And in all honesty, she was a little relieved none of them had returned to the ship yet. If any of them were there to see her leave Lapin’s cabin, she wasn’t sure how she would explain herself.

She thought for a moment, reconsidering. Would it really be so bad if they found out about her and Lapin? It wasn’t like they were a couple. Actually —were they a couple now? What were they? It was a headache to try and think about all of that so soon.

“So… what shall we do now?”

Lapin’s question broke her out of her trance. Nessa looked over at him, standing not far away, leaning against the door. He was a little unkempt, his shirt rumpled and some of his fur slightly matted, but he otherwise looked like he always did. He was the same hare she knew, and yet… something about him was different. Maybe it was the gentle look in his eyes, despite the absence of a smile, or his relaxed body language, like for once, he wasn’t on edge.

She wasn’t sure, but her heart was warming.

She sniffed her arm, wrinkling her nose a bit. “I… wouldn’t mind a bath,” she answered with a small laugh.

She’d intended for it to be humorous, but then she remembered—he did have a bath. He’d mentioned it weeks ago, but she’d practically forgotten all about it, having never been able to use it.

There is one bath on the ship, and it’s mine. Perhaps if you do well enough for me… I’ll allow you to use it.

“A bath,” he said thoughtfully. One of his ears twitched with interest. “That’s… an excellent idea.” He smiled at her with a touch of slyness. “I’ll go draw us one, then.”

Us? Nessa thought, her fur heating. He wanted them to bathe together? That was… awfully forward of him. But then again, she had just let him fuck her raw on a desk.

Technically speaking, bathing with a partner wasn’t as intimate as sex. At least, not physically. But romantically…

Lapin went to the bathroom almost eagerly, vanishing inside before she could protest his suggestion. She thought about calling after him, telling him she hadn’t meant it seriously, but she realized how silly that would be. What was she thinking? She did want to take a bath. She hadn’t bathed properly in days; this was the perfect opportunity to get clean, and in private, no less. Who cared if Lapin was there to bathe with her?

She didn’t have to think about the intimacy of all of this, or what it meant for the future. Not yet.

Nessa waited. It wasn’t long before Lapin was emerging again, now missing his shirt. “You can come in,” he said, fetching the lantern from where it had fallen on the floor. “It’s… not as warm as we might like, but it’ll have to do.”

Sliding off of the desk, she followed him into the bathroom.

The room itself was tiny, most of its space taken up by a large, round basin—undoubtedly the bath—partially embedded into the floor. She could tell that the tub had just been filled with water, and it was slightly murky with a purplish coloring, smelling equally sweet and salty. He seemed to have mixed some kind of soap in, and most likely, he’d had to use seawater for the bath, but that didn’t bother her. She’d heard good things about saltwater baths, actually. Her sisters Tilly and Lottie liked to take them from time to time.

She turned to find Lapin undressing nearby, having set down the lantern to give the otherwise dim room some light. He unbuckled his belt before sliding down his pants and stepping out of them. As he removed his drawers, she felt her eyes lingering on the fur of his waist, and the familiar shape below his navel. His cock was soft now, no longer standing at attention like it had been earlier, but that wasn’t what captivated her.

For the first time, she was seeing him fully naked. Fully exposed to her.

He looked up, noticing her staring, and smirked. “Do you like to look at me, pigeon?”

Nessa glanced away, a little flustered.

Lapin climbed carefully into the tub, seating himself comfortably in the water. He beckoned her with one claw. “Won’t you join me?”

She hesitated, her heart rate quickening unexpectedly. Why did the thought of joining him make her so nervous? She would have to get naked, yes, but all she had to do was sit beside him in the bath. He’d already been inside her, for fuck’s sake. He would have seen her body already if not for their desperation earlier. Right?

“Come now, I don’t bite,” he cooed. “Join me.”

You definitely do bite, she thought wryly. Despite her shyness, though, his sultry tone was easily winning her over.

Slowly, Nessa began to push down her dress, gradually revealing the exposed fur of her body. Lapin watched intently, and she tried not to focus on the hungry gleam in his eyes as she removed the dress fully, leaving herself in nothing but her underwear and socks. Before long, those were gone too, and she stood before him completely bare. His gaze did not leave her as she shyly lowered herself into the water, settling across from him in her own corner of the tub.

It took her a moment to adjust to the water. It was neither hot nor cold, more lukewarm than anything, but she shivered nonetheless at first—though she wondered if at least part of that was due to nervousness. Once she felt mostly comfortable, she finally allowed herself to look at Lapin.

He looked utterly serene from where he lounged in the tub. A lazy smile on his lips, he eyed her with admiration—and a hint of lust. “As beautiful as I imagined,” he purred.

Nessa was relaxing the more she let the water seep into her fur, her body growing steadily warmer. She leaned back a bit, a small smile forming on her mouth. “You’re… not so bad, either.”

He chuckled, looking more than a little smug. “Mm. I have been told I have a… pleasing figure.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, really?”

“By previous partners, yes.”

She stared at him a few seconds longer, then settled back again with a snort. She hadn’t expected him to mention his previous partners. “And how many of those have you had?” she asked without thinking.

He blinked, as if realizing he might have brought up an awkward topic. “Er… enough,” he said after a heartbeat. Seconds passed. “And… you?”

Nessa gave him a slightly bemused look. “...Enough.”

Neither of them spoke for a minute, tension palpable in the air. Sitting silently in the water, she was reminded, just then, of what they were doing— bathing together. The two of them were alone together, both naked in a dark room. This was the most vulnerable either of them had ever been with one another. In many ways, it was freeing. She knew she should be relaxed, especially after how surprisingly good sex with him had been, so why did she still feel so tense?

This wasn’t un comfortable. She didn’t want it to be.

Lapin cleared his throat. “That’s right. Ah… how is your side?”

Nessa’s hand drifted to her side, and she realized she hadn’t given it a single thought all day. Not even when he’d been touching her there. “It’s… fine, actually. It doesn’t hurt. At all.”

“Really? I wasn’t, er… too rough with it?”

She recalled the way he’d held her during their dance, feeling her, spinning her around. Then in the cabin, grabbing her and hoisting her up, slamming her down onto the desk. She flushed at the memory of it all. “No. You were—you weren’t. Too rough, I mean.”

“I—see. Good.” Lapin licked his lips, as if searching for something to say next. Before he could, though, Nessa was opening her mouth to speak.

“I was… thinking,” she murmured. “About… something you said.”

He held her gaze. “Yes?”

“Before. In the… garden,” she said, her eyes wandering away from him. “I know we weren’t really thinking straight, but… you said something. You said that you… wanted me the moment you saw me.” She studied the bubbles in the water for a moment, then looked up at him again. “Did you… mean that? You knew you wanted me… the day we met?”

Lapin had an almost stunned expression on his face, and she knew she’d taken him aback. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting such a question. “The… day we met,” he echoed, furrowing his brows with thought. He swallowed, realization setting in. “Ah, yes, I… suppose I did say that.” He reached up to scratch the back of his head, not looking at her. “Well, you could say… that… I suppose, yes. I was attracted to you, the moment I saw you. That much is true.”

Nessa felt a fluttering in her stomach. “Really? In the dungeon?”

“Well… you’re a beautiful girl,” he conceded. “I hadn’t been visited by anyone in quite some time, and then, one night, to see a lovely face like yours…” He trailed off, smiling to himself. “Well, I was rather taken by you.”

So he had meant what he’d said. His words were flattering, and she couldn’t deny being affected by them.  “Is that so?”

“Mhm. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

She tilted her head. “I’m a lot younger than you, though.”

“And I am much older than you, ” he returned. “And yet… I could tell you were taken by me as well.”

“Ha. I found you interesting. That doesn’t mean I was attracted to you.”

“Well… you’re certainly attracted to me now, aren’t you?”

Nessa bit her lip. In truth, she had been attracted to him, even from the beginning, but in any case, he had her—hook, line, and sinker. “Mmm… alright. I am.”

Lapin grinned. “You know,” he said, “you and I are… so alike.”

“Oh? Are we?”

“Oh, yes. Clever, driven…”

“Stubborn?”

He rolled his eyes. “ Opinionated, perhaps. But you and I are very similar, my dear. It’s one of the reasons I find you so… alluring.”

Nessa smiled just a little, reaching into the water and picking up one of the bubbles. She studied it as it sat in her palm.

He leaned back, wearing a satisfied expression. “You will make an excellent queen. There’s no doubt about that.”

The bubble popped.

Queen. Queen of Featherbeard.

That was right. She had agreed to be his queen. Nessa lowered her hand back into the water. “Queen,” she said quietly.

“Yes,” he said with pride. “Ah, I can already see it. The crown on my head, the Serpent’s Eye in my hand… and you by my side. A perfect image.”

She imagined it herself—sitting on a throne with her own crown. Lapin, the king, beside her, wielding the snake-headed staff like a godly conqueror. Subjects crowding the throne room, all bowing before them. Peter and Chickenhare, absent from the scene.

She didn’t know how to feel.

“Queen,” she said again, her voice soft. “You’re sure you want… me?”

He regarded her with surprise. “Why, of course,” he responded. “It’s true I may not need a queen to rule Featherbeard—my idiot brother still doesn’t have a wife, not that that surprises me—but regardless, you’ve proven yourself to me. Making you my queen is the greatest reward I can give you… and you very much deserve to be rewarded, darling.” He smiled.

A part of her was charmed by that. Deeply. Lapin was many things, often insufferable, but there were times when he had a way with words. Still, there was something about all of this that didn’t feel right yet.

My idiot brother still doesn’t have a wife.

Wife.

“Wait,” she said, realizing something with a start. “To make me your queen… you would have to…?”

“What, marry you? Yes, naturally,” Lapin replied. “As I said, Featherbeard has never had a rabbit queen, as far as I know, but that will be changing very soon. I have every intention of making you my consort.”

Nessa sputtered, not knowing whether to be flattered or overwhelmed. “Wait, we—we can’t just—we can’t get married so soon. We’re not even a couple. ”

“Clearly we are now,” he said, as if it were obvious. “Marriage is the natural next step, since you’re to be queen. If you’re concerned about formalities, I plan on properly proposing to you in the near future.”

Her head was spinning. He was already preparing a proposal? “Lapin—I barely know you.”

“Of course you know me,” he said simply, almost cheerfully. “We know so much about one another already. And there is always time to learn more. We have all the time in the world.” He perked up, an idea evidently popping into his head. “Ask me something now.”

“Lapin—”

He waved his hand. “Go on. Ask!”

“Ask you what? ”

“Anything about myself. Go on.”

Nessa didn’t understand what was happening, but she decided to try and take him seriously. “Uh… favorite food?”

“Hm—carrots. Carrot stew, to be specific.”

Mm. That actually sounded delicious right about now. “Favorite color?”

“Red, obviously.”

“Okay, uh… what about music? Is there any music you like?”

Lapin set his jaw, thinking. “There’s a band I quite enjoy called Spectre. They rarely came to Featherbeard while touring, but I saw them every chance I could when I was a leveret.”

Nessa gaped at him. “Wait—seriously? I love Spectre.”

His eyes widened. “Really? They’re… quite before your time.”

“They’re my favorite band. I’ve only seen them once, though. What about Black Candle? Do you like them?”

He laughed. “ Like them? I used to perform their songs with a local band.”

“No way. As a player?”

“As a singer.”

“You sing? ”

With a smirk, he opened his mouth to belt out a long, operatic note.

Nessa stared at him, admittedly in awe. “I can’t believe you sing.”

Lapin laughed again. “Would you like me to serenade you something, my dear?”

“No, no, no.” She shook her head, blushing. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to handle that.

“Are you sure? ” he asked playfully.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure.”

“Do you sing, pigeon?”

“Gods, no. I’m terrible.”

“Surely not.”

“Trust me, I am.”

“Mm. Perhaps I will be the singer between the two of us, then, hm?”

“That’s fine by me.”

Lapin chuckled warmly. “You see? We know each other even better now.”

Nessa giggled. “Fine, fine.” Grabbing a bar of soap placed near her, she began to scrub herself idly. “Why don’t you ask me something, then?”

“Hmm… very well. What’s your favorite food?”

“Celery.”

“Favorite… book?”

“Hm… probably Stories from the Deep by Ellen the Intrepid.”

“Aren’t those all fairy tales? Myths, conspiracies, whatnot?”

Nessa shrugged. “Who’s to say they don’t have truth in them? We’ve never traveled to the bottom of the ocean. I prefer history books, but I have good memories with that book. I used to read it to some of my siblings growing up.”

“Ah yes, your siblings. How many of those do you have?”

“Twenty. Ten brothers, ten sisters. Some of us are from different litters, though.”

His face stretched with shock. “Twenty? Good gods. Are you the oldest of them?”

“Pfft. No—I’m right in the middle. I have six older siblings.”

“I see. What about your parents?”

“My parents?” She splashed water on herself, rinsing the soap off of her body. “Their names are Brennan and Mina. They own a store downtown—Rudy’s Supply Shop.”

“I’m not familiar with that one. Who is ‘Rudy’?”

Nessa finished rinsing herself, relaxing once more on her side of the tub. There was a pang in her heart. “One of my older brothers. Well—he would be, if he was around. He was stillborn. My mom named him anyway, though, and they named the shop after him.”

Lapin was quiet, noticeably stricken by her story. “Ah,” he murmured, awkward but sincere. “I see. I’m… very sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, wringing some of the water from her ears. “It happened before I was born. We talk about him sometimes, though, and we celebrate his birthday with my other siblings’.”

He nodded, a distant look in his eyes.

She wondered if he was thinking about his own brother, who was very much alive—but there was no love between the two of them to speak of. Her relationship with her family was so unbelievably different from his. She couldn’t imagine not speaking to her siblings, let alone hating them the way Lapin hated Peter. She thought about asking him about his father, only to remember that she knew exactly how he felt about the late king.

Instead, she asked, “What was… your mother like?”

His vision refocused, and he looked at her. “My mother?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve… seen the paintings of her. She was beautiful.”

Queen Lucille—the last queen of Featherbeard, an elegant hare with silver-gray fur and a gentle smile. The spitting image of Lapin, apart from the blue eyes her elder son did not share. She’d passed away long before Nessa had been born, but was still remembered by the kingdom for her wisdom and charity.

Lapin went silent for a long moment, as though lost in his own mind, lost in his memories of someone that had not been present in his life for decades. “My mother,” he said at last. “She… died when I was seven. I hardly knew her.” A chuckle left him, though it was a sad sound. “I’m… afraid I don’t remember very much.”

Nessa looked down at the water. Maybe it had been the wrong thing to ask him.

“But… I remember she was… kind,” he said. “She was always kind to me. She… never got angry with me. Not like my father did. I remember she would… hold me, sometimes. Comfort me when I was upset.” Reminiscing, he raised his chin to look up at the ceiling. “I don’t really remember her face, but I remember how… warm she was.”

Slowly, she let her gaze travel back to him.

“She was… a good woman, I think,” he continued softly. “My father… never loved me. But… I think she did. As much as she could.”

Those words suddenly had emotion tugging at Nessa’s heart. He spoke with such certainty, like he was absolutely sure his father had never loved him—and as for his mother, he could only hope that she had. As if a parent loving their child unconditionally wasn’t a concept he fully grasped. It was impossible for Nessa to imagine feeling unloved by her father, or not knowing her mother due to losing her at such a young age. Calling her own ability to be loved into question.

What had happened to Lapin as a child to make him feel so unlovable? She knew the things he’d done as an adult—the things that had gotten him thrown in prison, turned him into an outcast in the kingdom he’d grown up in—but had he truly always been bad? He had been a little boy once, needing to be comforted by his mother. A little boy ostracized by his peers for being different, if he was to be believed. Imagining him curled up in the queen’s arms—a small, teary-eyed leveret with one bent ear—filled her with unexpected sorrow.

Despite his proximity, he felt so far away just then, and she wanted to close the distance between them. Nessa crept towards him through the water, settling beside him in the tub. Lapin gave her a look of surprise as their wet fur made contact, but in seconds, his eyes were softening, and he was pulling her into his lap.

The new position was more comfortable than she’d expected, and he was warm against her in the water that was quickly growing cold. She leaned her head into his chest, closing her eyes.

I love you, she almost wanted to say. Because in a way, she meant it, even though so much was still unsure. Because she knew it would make him happy, and in that moment, she wanted to do that more than anything.

She wondered if he’d ever heard those three words from anyone.

“I’ve fallen for you, pigeon.”

Nessa’s eyes opened, and she looked up at him with a swollen sensation in her heart. Lapin gazed down at her, a soft, tentative smile on his face. She remembered it was only the two of them in the room, only the two of them on the entire ship, and it felt just like that morning in the tent, when it was as if nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered.

She wished this moment could last forever.

“I’ve fallen for you, too,” she whispered, leaning up to kiss him.

Chapter Text

When Nessa awoke from her peaceful, dreamless sleep, she was lying on Lapin’s chest.

For a heartbeat, she was startled—she was completely naked, and so was he, and they were together in his bed— but then it all came rushing back to her. Last night—mating with him for the first time. Taking a bath with him afterwards. Having sex with him a second time… and a third time. Passing out with him in his bed, soothed to sleep by the steady rhythm of his heart.

She still couldn’t believe it had actually happened—more than once, at that. She’d been almost sure that when she woke up the morning after, she would regret what she’d done with him, at least in the back of her mind. But right now, somehow, regret was not at the forefront of her thoughts.

Maybe it was still too early in the day, with the morning light soft behind the curtains of the nearby window. Maybe she wasn’t quite awake enough yet to feel things like worry or shame. Maybe it was just too warm and comfortable in this bed, and she felt too much affection—still lingering after a night of passion and discoveries—for the man holding her in his arms.

Whatever the case, she was in no hurry to remove herself from his embrace.

Lapin was still asleep, and Nessa considered going back to sleep as well. It couldn’t hurt, could it? The bed was so comfy, and his fur was so soft, and she could hear the ebb and flow of the waves outside, gently rocking the ship and guiding her back towards slumber…

Her eyes had only just started to flutter closed when suddenly, he stirred against her lightly. Lapin grunted, flexing the arm he had around her as he began to wake up. She felt his nose on her forehead, nuzzling her there before his lips left a kiss on the same spot. “Nessa,” he whispered, like he’d just emerged from a dream—or walked into a new, even better one.

Her stomach flipped in the most unexpectedly pleasant way. “Good morning,” she murmured, rubbing her face into his neck.

He hummed warmly, shifting slightly to hold her closer to him. They laid there for several seconds, neither one speaking, enjoying each other’s warmth. Nessa could feel the seductive pull of sleep tugging at her once again, but then, abruptly, he twitched against her.

“Wait,” he said, sounding significantly more awake. He lifted his head, blinking as his eyes focused on the window—specifically, the light streaming in under the curtains. “It’s—it’s morning. Curses! ”

Lapin let go of her and sat up all the way, forcing Nessa to get off of him. Before she could process what was happening, he was rising from the bed, dashing over to the window. He drew back the curtain to look outside, then cursed under his breath.

“Damn it,” he muttered. “We slept in.”

Nessa sleepily sat upright, watching as he rushed to pick his clothes up off the floor. She rubbed her eyes. “What?”

“We were supposed to leave at dawn,” he grunted, nearly falling over while shimmying into his pants. “I’m sorry, darling, but you have to get dressed. We have to go. Now. ”

Any disappointment she might’ve had was dispelled by the seriousness in his tone—if he said they needed to go, then they really did need to go.

Nodding, she got up from the bed, searching for her own clothes. With a start, she realized all her regular clothes were downstairs; she’d have to put her party dress back on if she wanted something to wear out of here. A bit embarrassing, but she only had herself to blame for her lack of planning.

She went into the bathroom, collecting the dress and slipping it on. Last night, she’d entirely abandoned it after the bath, too eager to get out of the tub and into Lapin’s bed. Remembering it now, she couldn’t believe just how eager she’d been, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on that.

By the time she was dressed and stepping out of the cabin, the entire crew was up and about on the deck, hoisting the sails and readying the ship for departure. Lapin had marched out only minutes earlier, running downstairs to bark at the hungover animals to wake up, and if they hadn’t been awake before, they certainly were now.

“We’re heading north,” Lapin announced. “The Northern Temple is the last of the three. We’ll know exactly where it is very soon.”

Luther, helped by Toro, pulled the anchor up over the rail, and Lenny, behind the wheel, steered the ship out of the port and back onto the open water. Nessa cast one last glance at the colorful little town of Eika as they sailed away.

One day, she’d return—maybe for another Lemiya celebration, years from now. The future was uncertain, but she was at least certain she would be back.

So much had happened on this journey. She couldn’t believe that it was almost over.

“Nessa.”

She turned at the sound of Lapin’s voice. The hare approached her, looking much more relaxed—no doubt, getting the ship moving again had put him at ease.

“We still need to know the location of the third temple,” he said. “I was hoping I could have you look at the Journal and—translate the next part, naturally.”

A part of her was a little disappointed, hearing about the Journal again—it meant Lapin was back to business as usual, back to being concerned about treasure more than her or anything else. Still, Nessa couldn’t help but notice that he’d never asked her this nicely before, and she smiled despite herself. He was the same hare he’d always been, but many things about him had certainly changed. “Sure. Can I eat first, though? I’m starving.”

“Of course. I’ll have Toro make something.”

With a smile, Lapin reached out to stroke her cheek briefly, and Nessa found herself leaning into his touch before he withdrew his hand. He walked off, making his way across the deck to Toro, and at the same time, she saw Sylvie coming towards her. The cat looked weary, like she hadn’t had the best night of sleep, but that didn’t seem to stop her from having the smuggest of smirks on her face. Nessa knew what was about to happen before Sylvie even spoke.

The cat crossed her arms, eyeing Nessa up and down. “ So— you two fucked. Finally. ”

Nessa went hot as an ember. “Don’t say that so loud!” she hissed.

Sylvie raised an eyebrow. “Ness, you weren’t in your hammock all night, and you just walked out of his cabin. Everybody knows.”

Nessa winced. Right. Naturally.

“Also.” Sylvie slyly indicated Nessa’s outfit with one claw. “You’re wearing the same dress as last night. Left your clothes downstairs, huh?”

Nessa sighed, swatting at her. “Okay. Okay—yes. We mated. But can we—can we not talk about it here?”

“Oh, trust me, you don’t have to tell me anything,” Sylvie said with a snort. “I do not wanna hear about all of that. I’m just glad you guys finally stopped fucking around.”

Nessa rolled her eyes, attempting to play things cool, though she ended up giving in. “ Yes, fine, okay,” she said, trying to hide her smile. “I guess it—had to happen eventually.” She glanced at Lapin, who had gone to the front of the ship to stand by himself. She felt a twinge of something in her heart. “I guess I don’t… really know what it means, though.”

It wasn’t all a lie. Technically, she knew what it meant. To Lapin, at least, it meant they were a couple now. It meant that one day, they would be married, and she would be his queen, just like she’d agreed to be. Something like that seemed so clear-cut, and she wanted it to be. She wanted to believe it was that simple, that the man she’d slept with was the man she was going to marry; the man she loved. But truthfully, she didn’t know if she loved him yet. How could she be sure, when she’d spent so long hating him? How could she be sure she wanted to and could be a queen, when such an idea would never have crossed her mind in her entire life?

And then there was the unfortunate reality of this whole thing—the unpleasant truth that she couldn’t quite ignore, even if doing so would make all of this easier. The fact of the matter was that Lapin, the man she’d given herself to, was not a good person—and that was putting it lightly.

He was a wanted criminal, who had killed people in the past and nearly succeeded in killing his own brother, and had probably committed many more crimes she wasn’t aware of. He could be kind and generous, yes, but he could also be selfish, arrogant, cruel—and those traits couldn’t simply be done away with overnight. There was no way they could come back to Featherbeard and not face consequences for their relationship, whether Lapin took the throne or not. And what would her family think? She couldn’t imagine bringing Featherbeard’s most infamous criminal to meet her parents, her siblings. Just introducing Lapin as her boyfriend—or worse, fiancée—would probably make her mother drop dead on the spot.

It could never be simple, even if she wanted it to be. Thinking about it now made her feel devastatingly heavy.

“I mean,” Sylvie said, “you like him, don’t you?”

“I…” Nessa looked at her. There was no denying that she did. “I do. Yeah.”

“Then you can do whatever you want,” Sylvie said with a shrug. “Fuck him again, don’t fuck him. I don’t care. Just don’t do anything stupid.”

Nessa gave her a look, one caught between incredulity and amusement. “Like what?”

“I dunno, like—doing something to piss him off, I guess.” 

Nessa snorted. “I like him, but I can’t promise I’ll never piss him off again.”

“I know, I know, whatever. I just mean—I dunno, like, don’t tell him he has a small dick.”

Nessa stifled a laugh. “What?”

“Or, like—don’t tell him you don’t love him, or something.” Sylvie eyed her curiously. “Actually —did you tell him you loved him?”

The question caught Nessa off-guard. She hadn’t expected that sort of question from Sylvie.

Had she told him? No… not with those exact words.

I’ve fallen for you, too.

She’d admitted she felt something for him. That wasn’t the same as confessing her love… right?

After a moment, she responded, “… No.”

“Really?” Sylvie seemed genuinely surprised. “Not even in the—heat of the moment, or whatever?”

The answer was still no, though it was almost surprising, looking back. Despite the many opportunities, despite the euphoria she’d felt the whole time they’d been entwined, Nessa had not. Something—or likely, many things—had been holding her back.

“No,” she said.

“What about him? He say anything like that?”

Nessa’s mind went back to it all. The look in his eyes, his ragged breathing. His voice in her ear, so full of lust, so full of something that seemed even deeper, even stronger.

Nessa. I lo—lo—

“No,” she heard herself saying, before she could think about it much more. “... Why?”

“Just askin’, that’s all. Just scoping out the situation.” Sylvie flicked her tail. “Seems fine for now, though, from what I can tell. This is probably better for you two idiots.”

Nessa was tempted to ask more, to try and understand what Sylvie meant by that, but instead, she was stealing another glance at Lapin.

Was this better for the two of them? It was better than fighting with him all the time, certainly. When they were kind to each other, when they were open and honest and not at each other’s throats, things did feel much easier. When they were crewmates, partners, friends—they were both so different. Happy, even. They got along, and truth be told, they had more in common than she’d thought. She actually liked him—more than she’d ever thought she would. Despite all his flaws, Lapin was handsome, intelligent, worldly—and there was good in him, deep down. Good that hadn’t been lost yet, good that could be nurtured. If he were someone else, someone free of all those past sins and darkness yet to be quelled, she wouldn’t think twice about pursuing a relationship with him.

But he was Lapin—known by Featherbeard only as the man who’d tried to kill the king. An evil man. Being with him would change everything—and whether it was for better or worse, none of it was going to be uncomplicated.

Now eager to change the subject, Nessa asked, “So, what about that cute girl you met last night? The white rabbit?”

Sylvie chuckled, a wistful expression crossing her face. “Ah, yeah. Her. We did some stuff, and we were gonna hook up, but I, uh—threw up and passed out in an alley. She helped me when I woke up, but she was pissed, and she left. I felt sick as fuck, so I just went back to the ship.” She winced a bit, clutching her forehead. “Damn. My head fuckin’ hurts.”

Nessa felt a little sorry for Sylvie, but she also couldn’t be surprised. “Yeah, you had waaaay too many drinks.”

“Yeahhh, guess it serves me right. She was too good for me. Too pretty and nice and she smelled so good, like lilacs or some shit…” Sylvie trailed off, then coughed awkwardly. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her pants. “Anyway, you gonna go eat?”

“Gods, yeah. I’m so hungry.”

Sylvie smirked, sauntering away. “Yeah, hungry for Lapin.”

Nessa let out a scoff and went to join her. “Ha ha. Funny. ”

“Glad at least one of us got some last night.”

“Oh, stop.”

^ ^ ^

The third and final temple, Ilunnik, was four days north—on the continent of Amaru.

Amaru was an enormous continent, even bigger than Ziman, but far, far colder, and far less populated. It was a difficult place to live, given its constant snow and harsh landscape, but the animals that did live there were known for their strength and hardiness. There were only a handful of kingdoms scattered across the continent, and nearly all of them were located in the southernmost regions to the east. Apart from those kingdoms, Amaru was mostly a solitary land, largely isolated from the rest of the world.

Lapin took advantage of that. When the crew arrived on the western coast of Amaru, it was easy for them to dock in the port of a small fishing village, where it was likely no one had even heard of the kingdom of Featherbeard, let alone Lapin or his ragtag bunch of criminals. With the anchor dropped, the animals gathered their supplies and began their journey to the temple—a two-day hike up Mount Qono.

The entire first day, Nessa was bogged down by an unpleasant feeling of mountain-climbing deja vu—made worse by the brittle coldness that clung to her the whole time. She’d taken care to dress appropriately, wearing her fleece socks and the winter coat she’d bought back in Senna, but none of it could fully protect her from freezing Amaru air, nor the mountain’s arduous landscape. Qono was easier to climb than the Gara Mountains, she could admit, but at least the weather in Ziman had been mostly temperate.

When the crew finally stopped to make camp for the night, Nessa was sore and shivering, her feet numb from the cold and her fur frosted with specks of ice. Thankfully, the campfire helped to warm her up, as did the blanket Lapin wrapped around her, and Toro’s hot vegetable soup might as well have been a gift from the gods themselves. The other animals all huddled around the fire together as they ate, too cold and tired to offer much for conversation, and when dinner was over, they retreated to the big tent to try and get some sleep. Nessa was all too eager to do the same; the sooner they all woke up the next day, the sooner they could get to Ilunnik and get the rest of this journey over with.

Inside her shared tent with Lapin, only one sleeping mat had been set up, but she wouldn’t have had it any other way. The last four days on the sea, she’d slept in Lapin’s bed every night, but even if she hadn’t, she would’ve sought him for warmth tonight no matter what—in this cold, she would never fall asleep on her own. Trembling in the light of the lantern, she removed her frigid, icy clothes, climbing into new, more comfortable ones, and wrapped herself back up in her blanket before settling on the mat.

Lapin settled beside her, tucking himself under the second blanket. He drew her into his arms as if cradling a sick child. “Oh, you poor dear,” he murmured, lightly nuzzling her forehead. “Come now, try to relax. I’m here.”

Nessa still wasn’t used to how gentle he could be, how soft he could sound when he truly wanted to. His voice was so comforting, and his body was so warm, she could already feel herself relaxing, melting into his embrace like an icicle in the warmth of the sun. It was just like that night in Ziman, when she’d been cold just like this, needing him to hold her, help her sleep. He’d been there for her then, and he was there for her now—even though so much had changed since then.

“Just a few more days,” he said softly. “By tomorrow night, we’ll have the final piece of the Eye, and we’ll return to Featherbeard where we belong. Then you can rest all you like, my love. You’ve been so good for me.”

His words warmed her further, inside and out. She couldn’t wait to get back to Featherbeard. It was where she belonged—where both of them belonged. It was her home, and it wasn’t cold, and she could see her family, and gods, she’d been away for so long…

It still felt so far away. She wished that when she woke up in the morning, she’d find herself in her bed at the palace—or even a new, bigger bed, a bed fit for a queen—but she knew she wouldn’t. She knew she would have to wait a little while longer—but at least there was something here she could cling to for now. Something that felt warm, felt right—felt like home.

Things hadn’t been perfect this last month away. Things had been so awful at first, but out of the blue, they’d gotten better. Better and better, so much better. It still wasn’t perfect—not even close. But there was something good to be found in the middle of all this mess.

What was just a few more days?

Nessa closed her eyes, leaning into him. In a whisper, she said, “Lapin…”

Lapin pressed a kiss to her temple. “Yes?”

I love you, she wanted to say. But instead, as she drifted off, she mumbled, “Goodnight.”

She felt him smile against her.

“Goodnight, my dear girl.”

Chapter Text

The entrance to Ilunnik was the mouth of a massive cave.

It had taken half the day to reach the mountain peak where the temple was located—but at last, they arrived, the midday sun hidden behind the clouds. The crew stood before the enormous cave opening; etchings of two giant snakes were carved into the stone, forming an arc above the temple entrance. There was no doubt this was the Northern Temple—the final temple of their journey.

The home of the Serpent’s Eye itself.

Lapin wrapped his arm around Nessa, giving her a squeeze like he could hardly contain his excitement. “Ilunnik,” he murmured. “What does the Journal say, darling?”

Nessa opened the Journal, shivering from the cold as she turned to the page on Ilunnik. She read Wilder’s notes, translating them as she went along.

“‘At last, we arrived at the temple of Ilunnik,’” she said out loud. “‘It is vast and cold and cavernous. I pray this temple is more merciful than the temple of Kimeri.’”

There was a spacious gap between notes, and she went further down the page. As she read the words there, they immediately struck her as… strange.

“‘I find myself alone,’” she continued. “‘I have lost my way. I must not heed the voices.’”

Her words hung in the air for a moment. Unease ran through Nessa. What was Wilder talking about? Had he gotten separated from his crew inside the temple?

I have lost my way. I must not heed the voices.

“The fuck does that mean?” Sylvie asked incredulously.

“Yeah, what ‘voices’?” Barry added. “Are there ghosts inside or somethin’?”

“Hush,” Lapin silenced them. Looking at Nessa, he asked, “Is that all it says?”

She scanned the page. There was more writing from Wilder, but as she translated, she realized something even more unnerving. Further down the page, after his initial warning, it was just the same two sentences, written over and over again in Serpentese:

THEY ARE WRONG

THEY ARE ALL AGAINST ME

THEY ARE WRONG

THEY ARE ALL AGAINST ME

She turned the page, and a deathly chill traveled down her spine.

There were no other notes. The rest of the Journal was completely blank.

“That’s… it,” she said, stunned. “That’s all it says.”

“What?” Lapin squinted, looking down at the Journal. His eyes widened at the blank pages. “That’s… the end? Of the Journal?”

Nessa flipped through the rest of the book, trying to see if there were any notes she might have missed, but she found none. “Yes,” she finally said. “He… didn’t write anything else.”

The animals made hushed sounds of surprise amongst each other. “Wait, what?” Barry said.

Lapin took the Journal from her, flipping through the last pages of the book. “No,” he muttered. “That… can’t be right…”

“So—what, did he die in there?” Sylvie questioned.

Though it filled her with dread, Nessa was beginning to think that was possible.

She had long wondered, before she had even gone looking for the Journal back then, what had become of Francis Wilder. Though he had ultimately failed to acquire the Serpent’s Eye, it was widely believed that he had survived the quest, along with at least some of his crew, and retired from adventuring to live in a quiet country. However, no one could actually confirm the story, as he had completely disappeared from the public. His Journal had only recently ended up in Featherbeard’s library, having arrived in the last six years; how it had gotten there was unknown. Francis, being long dead at that point, could not have donated it to the library himself. Perhaps it had been a family friend, or a relative he had passed it down to.

It was unlikely he had died on the journey—but it wasn’t impossible.

Wilder’s story had never quite made sense to her; it was one of the reasons she’d been so determined to get her hands on the Journal. And now that she had experienced most of the same journey—now that she was almost at the end of it—his whole tale felt even more baffling. Wilder had documented his time in each temple, down to the details of all the individual trials; if he had completed most if not all of them, why had they seemingly reset for Lapin’s crew to do them all over again? If Wilder had survived this journey, why had he left the Journal unfinished like this? And why had he written the whole thing in Serpentese? To keep the details of his journey a secret? If that was the case, why had he not simply destroyed the Journal, or locked it away to keep it from ending up in a library?

They are wrong. They are all against me. What did he mean by that eerie mantra?

She had so many questions, and she didn’t know how to answer any of them.

“So what do we do now?” Luther asked, taking a step forward. “Just go in blind?”

“What’s even in there?” Barry asked nervously. “Are we gonna find a dead body or somethin’?”

“He didn’t die here,” Sylvie told the duck bluntly. “The book got back to Featherbeard somehow, didn’t it?”

All of a sudden, Lapin snapped the book shut. The animals stopped talking.

“All of you, quiet,” he said sharply.

The crew remained completely silent. The hare handed the Journal back to Nessa, then, with a serious look on his face, he went to the head of the group, facing the other animals.

“Listen to me,” he said sternly. “This changes nothing. It doesn’t matter what happened to Wilder inside that temple—whatever it is, we can face it. We’ve endured two temples already, each with their own trials—and this is the last one. We don’t need the Journal to guide us anymore.”

He stood a little taller, his jaw set and chin held high.

“We’ve done this twice already—we can do it one more time,” he continued. “I know you’re all cold and exhausted. You want this to be over. You want to go home. But the Eye is somewhere inside that temple, and once I have it, we’ll head back down this wretched mountain and return to Featherbeard. The journey will be over, and I will be king—and all of you will live like royalty.” He clenched his fists at his sides. “There will be no more hesitation from here on out. Do you all understand?”

The animals of the crew watched him silently, taking in his words. They were indeed cold and exhausted, just as he said—Nessa could see it on their faces, see it in their weary, ice-flecked bodies. This journey had taken a toll on them almost as much as it had for her. But in that moment, listening to Lapin, it was as if their strength had been replenished. Gradually, they began to nod in agreement, exchanging determined glances with one another. His speech—a promise of reward for all their hard work—was rallying them for one last set of trials.

Lapin was far from a perfect leader. He wasn’t always kind or righteous, and he definitely wasn’t always fair, but Nessa couldn’t deny the effect he had on his crew—herself included.

She was scared; there was no denying that. There was no telling what had happened to Wilder—maybe he had survived this last trial, maybe he hadn’t. They could no longer rely on his guidance to get through this temple—but regardless, they had to press on. There was no turning back now; not when they were so close to the end. They could only depend on each other now. That might have terrified her, weeks ago, when she didn’t like or know, let alone trust these animals—but after all the time she’d spent with them, the prospect of heading into danger with them somehow didn’t feel so horribly daunting.

Lapin was right. They’d done this before, and they could do it again—with or without Wilder’s help. It was frightening, but she told herself they would all make it out alive.

One more temple. They could do this.

“Damn right,” Sylvie said, nodding in Lapin’s direction. “Ready when you are.”

“Yeah!” Barry chirped, having regained his enthusiasm. “You’re—You’re right, boss. We’ve got this!”

Lapin gave an affirming nod. “Then we’re going in now,” he said. “Lenny, Toro—guard the entrance. Whatever happens to us in there, don’t leave your posts. We’ll be back as soon as we can.” He beckoned with his hand. “The rest of you—follow me.”

Tucking the Journal back into her bag, Nessa followed him towards the temple, flanked by her fellow crew members. As the bull brothers took up their positions by the cave opening, she and the other animals entered the temple.

The cave tunnel was surprisingly bright—rather than stone, its inner walls were made of ice, and sparkled with pale light. The floor, too, was made of ice—smooth like a pond frozen over. In fact, there was little else to be seen but ice; Nessa could only see darkness at the end of the tunnel, leaving them to walk mostly blindly down the path. When she looked down, she could see her reflection in the icy floor, her own face staring up at her.

Her reflection smiled at her.

Nessa felt a jolt in her heart. Uneasy, she looked back up, continuing along the path. It was nothing. She had only imagined it.

The five of them traveled down the tunnel, quiet except for the sounds of feet on the icy floor and the occasional flutter of Barry’s wings. Lapin slowed his pace to walk alongside her.

“Are you alright?” he asked, glancing at her.

Nessa shrugged. She was as “alright” as she could be, considering the circumstances. “I’m fine.”

“Mm.” He looked ahead. “Well… if you must know.” His voice softened. “You’ve… done well. Reading the Journal for me.”

She looked over at him.

“You’ve read the entire thing… just as I asked,” he said. “You’ve led us here, right to the last piece of the treasure. We would not have gotten this far without you.” He glanced at her again, giving her a small but sincere smile. “Thank you. For all of it.”

Nessa felt a blossom of warmth in her heart. She’d seen much more of Lapin’s gentle side lately, but it was still a pleasant surprise whenever he voiced his gratitude aloud. After all they’d been through together—after their fateful and unpleasant beginning back then—it was… nice to know he appreciated everything she’d done for him. She could no longer read the Journal for him, but that clearly didn’t change how he felt about her.

She offered a small smile back.

The group kept walking. Then, sooner than expected, they reached the end of the tunnel, and everyone came to a halt.

Another opening stood before them—a giant cave mouth, leading into a pitch black tunnel. Just like the temple entrance, an enormous snake formed an arc above the opening—only this time, etched into ice instead of stone, and there was one snake instead of two. The snake’s mouth was closed, and its eye was red—like the Serpent’s Eye gem itself.

“What is that?” Sylvie asked, warily eyeing the black wall.

Lapin pushed to the front. “This is the last trial,” he said. “It has to be.”

He took a step closer to the cave mouth, but all of a sudden, there was a low, booming noise, one that shook the icy walls of the cavern. Just then, above the tunnel opening, the carved snake opened its mouth. Though it remained two-dimensional, like a painting on the wall, it turned to look down at the animals below.

“STEP NO FURTHER,” it commanded, its voice otherworldly and all-encompassing.

Lapin went stiff. He craned his neck, staring up at the snake. “W-What? Me?”

“YOU MAY NOT ENTER THE SERPENT’S CHAMBER,” it boomed. “ONLY THE PUREST OF HEART AMONG YOU MAY PROVE THEIR WORTHINESS.”

Nessa couldn’t look away from the snake, nor could the rest of the crew. If it wasn’t the Serpent God himself, it had to be a guardian of some kind—one that protected the Serpent’s Eye.

The Serpent’s Chamber. That’s where the Eye is.

Lapin staggered back slightly. Undoubtedly, he was in awe of the godly guardian, perhaps even frightened, but he also retained his pride. “Pure of heart?” he echoed. “What in the blazes does that mean?”

“THE SERPENT’S EYE IS SACRED,” the snake answered. “IT CAN ONLY BE TOUCHED BY ONE WORTHY CANDIDATE. ONE WHOSE HEART IS PURE, AND STRONG ENOUGH TO WITHSTAND ITS POWER.”

Lapin scoffed. “Strong enough? My heart is strong enough. Let me through, and I will prove to you I am worthy!”

“SILENCE!”

The snake’s command rattled the cavern, making the floor beneath the animals shake. Nessa nearly lost her footing before the trembling ceased.

“YOU WILL NOT ENTER, PRINCE LAPIN OF FEATHERBEARD,” the guardian said clearly. “YOUR HEART IS PLAGUED BY HATE. ITS DARKNESS WILL CORRUPT THE SERPENT’S EYE.” It tilted its head downward, its red eyes sweeping over the animals below. “BUT THERE IS ONE AMONG YOU, WHOSE HEART HAS NOT BEEN TAINTED WITH SUCH DARKNESS.”

“Tainted?” Lapin repeated, offended. “You’re saying someone else is more worthy than me? Someone here? Who could possibly—”

He turned around with an incredulous laugh, confusion written on his face. To Nessa’s bewilderment, he looked straight at her. After several heartbeats, realization flashed in his eyes, and he kept looking at her.

Not Sylvie. Not Luther. Not Barry. Her.

Something in his expression changed.

“It’s—It’s you,” he said, his voice small. “Isn’t it?”

Nessa didn’t understand. She looked at him, then at the snake, then at her allies. Everyone was looking at her. What? Why? Why were they looking at her?

Lapin moved towards her. “It’s you,” he said again. “We’ve all… done things. For most of us… there’s blood on our hands, one way or another. But… not you.”

She stared at him, shaking her head. What was he talking about?

Beside her, Sylvie said, “He’s right. If they won’t let him in, they won’t let any of us in, either. But they’ll let you in.”

Gently, Lapin took her by the shoulders. “You must go in for me,” he said. “I realize it now. Only you can enter the chamber and get the Eye.”

Nessa kept shaking her head. “Wait—no,” she said, confused. “No, it can’t be me. I’m not—I’m not ‘pure of heart’ or whatever it’s trying to say. No one is pure of heart.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he insisted. “You haven’t done the things we’ve done—and the temple knows that. Your heart is as pure as it can be—purer than ours, at least in the eyes of the gods. For that reason, only you can enter the chamber.”

“I—I can’t,” she protested. “I can’t go in there alone.”

I find myself alone.

Was that how Wilder had been separated from his crew? Had he gone into the tunnel on his own, seeking the Eye? Had he been deemed unworthy, and died before he could get out?

“You must do it,” Lapin said, gripping her a little tighter. “Please, Nessa. This is the only way to get the Eye.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He let go of her shoulders, grasping her hands instead. “Look at how much you’ve already accomplished! My strong, brave girl. You’re the only reason we’ve made it here.”

Nessa blinked back tears. She didn’t want to go in there. Especially not alone. She just couldn’t. “I can’t…”

“Whatever lies inside,” he said, “I know you can face it. You’ve faced so much already—and I’m so proud of you.” He lifted a hand to caress her face. “Think of the future that awaits us when we return home.”

She gazed up at him. She felt so weak, so scared, and yet his soothing touch calmed her.

“Our kingdom,” he said. “Your kingdom. A throne, just for you. A family, if that’s what you desire.”

A tear trickled down her cheek, and he wiped it away.

A family…

Sylvie put a hand on Nessa’s shoulder. “You can do this,” she said, conviction in her eyes. “I haven’t said it much, but you’re a badass, Buns. I know you can handle what’s in there.”

“She’s right,” Luther spoke up, taking a heavy step closer. “You’ve been through a lot, little lady. Survived a lotta shit.”

"Saved our asses quite a few times," Sylvie added.

“Yeah!” Barry agreed. “Like at the second temple! We all would’a drowned without you.”

Nessa didn’t know what to say. Their words warmed her heart, and she was grateful, so grateful, but she couldn’t shake the dread, the fear inside her. It was overwhelming.

She didn’t want to go in. She didn’t want to.

“Nessa.”

Shakily, she looked up at Lapin. He smiled down at her.

“You are stronger than you know,” he said. “I believe in you. When you return with the Eye—and you will return, safe and sound—I will do everything in my power to reward you.” He leaned in to kiss her forehead. “There is nothing more important you could do for me than this. Do this for me, and I will do anything for you, my love.”

She could feel the power behind that promise. Those were strong words.

Anything. I will do anything for you.

“Anything?” she asked softly.

He nodded. “Anything you ask for, it will be yours.”

Nessa wasn’t sure what it was, but hearing that made something shift inside her. Maybe it was resolve, or courage. Maybe it was a confidence she had summoned from deep, deep within her. Maybe there was something she wanted, and that vow ensured he could give it to her. But whatever it was she was feeling, it was starting to strengthen her.

She looked into his eyes, then gave him a nod. She wouldn’t forget the promise he had just made.

“I’ll do it,” she murmured.

She didn’t have much of a choice. But at least it was her choice.

Lapin’s eyes gleamed, excitement and relief mingling together. He pulled her in, embracing her before releasing her from his hold. “Thank you,” he said, utterly sincere. “I know you can do it. We’ll all be waiting for you, right here.”

Nessa let out a shaky breath, nodding with understanding. She knew they would be waiting for her. She just hoped she’d make it out to see them all again.

Quivering, she stepped away from the group and moved closer to the cave mouth, allowing the guardian to see her fully.

 “NESSA LEPORA,” the snake rumbled. “DO YOU WISH TO ENTER THE SERPENT’S CHAMBER?”

She swallowed, staring up at the living carving. “I do.”

“YOUR HEART IS STRONG,” it said. “BUT IT WILL BE PUT TO THE TEST. ARE YOU PREPARED TO FACE THE CHALLENGES THAT AWAIT YOU?”

No, was what she really wanted to say. Because it was true. But she had to do this. There was no other way around it.

Out loud, she answered, “Yes.”

The snake considered her reply. “THEN YOU MAY ENTER,” it said after a heartbeat. “STEP INTO THE CAVE, AND BE PUT TO THE TEST.”

Nessa closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. It was now or never.

She was going to survive this. She had to. Not just for Lapin. For herself.

She opened her eyes once more. Casting one last look at her allies, she walked right up to the cave mouth and stopped directly in front of it.

She could see nothing at all inside the cave—just darkness. She had no idea what was on the other side of this black wall. But she was about to find out.

Forcing her legs to move, she stepped through it.

The wall didn’t feel like a wall at all—in fact, it didn’t feel like anything. As Nessa stepped through, it was as if she’d walked right into any ordinary cave, with no barrier in the way. She heard a soft rippling sound, felt the slightest tug on her fur, then all of a sudden, she was somewhere completely different.

She was in another icy cavern, just like the one on the other side of the wall, but much smaller, much more narrow. The walls of ice were as smooth as glass, leading down a path to what appeared to be… a room of some kind.

The Serpent’s Chamber.

Slowly, cautiously, Nessa made her way down the tunnel. She could see her reflection on all sides—below her, above her, to her left and right—as if four separate rabbits, each identical to her, were all traveling in the same direction as her. It unsettled her, but what unsettled her even more were the faint voices all around her, tickling her ears.

“Nessa…”

“Nessa…”

“Nessa…”

She remembered Wilder’s warning. I must not heed the voices.

She did her best to tune them out as she headed for the room. And before long, she was stepping into it.

It was a small, round chamber made of pure ice. The whole room was pale blue and bright, icicles glittering on the ceiling overhead. It was silent, apart from the whispering voices she could still faintly hear, but most remarkably, it was completely empty. There was no ancient writing or godly structure, no clear or visible challenge that awaited her. No Serpent’s Eye, and no creature to guard it. Just ice all around her.

The only thing in the room was Nessa herself.

“Hello?” she said quietly, her voice echoing throughout the chamber. She went deeper into the room, searching it. “Is… anyone here?”

“Only you.”

Nessa spun around, her fur standing on end. That voice…

It was… hers?

Behind her, reflected in the icy wall, was her. Or rather, a version of her.

The Nessa in the ice was older—by several years at least. Her posture was calm, regal, but her expression was dour, her green eyes dull and hollow. She wore a crown on her head, one adorned with bright red rubies, and held a staff in her hand.

No—not just any staff. The completed Serpent’s Eye.

Nessa took a step back. “Who are you?”

The Nessa in the reflection raised her chin. “I’m you,” she said simply. “The queen of Featherbeard.”

What? The queen?

Nessa furrowed her brows. “I’m… I’m not queen yet.”

“You will be,” the reflection replied, “in the future.”

The future. This was… a future version of her. At least, this Nessa was from one possible future.

“I gave Lapin the eye, and with it, he took the throne from Peter,” the reflection said. “He used the Eye to kill Peter and his nephew, Chickenhare. He erased them from existence.”

Nessa’s blood ran cold. Peter and Chickenhare… gone. She’d always known Lapin wanted them out of the picture, but she’d hoped, perhaps foolishly, that he wouldn’t go as far as killing them. At least, not Chickenhare. He was only a child.

Suddenly, there were distant screams in her ears—quiet, but potent, enough to make her shiver with terror. Peter’s. Chickenhare’s. She heard Lapin’s laugh, echoing in the back of her head.

“You… you let him kill them?” she asked the reflection, disbelieving.

“Let him? I tried to stop him,” the reflection said coldly. “But he wouldn’t listen to me. And he had the staff.”

He wouldn’t listen to me.

Peter and Chickenhare—dead. Because of Lapin, but also because of her.

That couldn’t be the future, could it? It couldn’t be…

“Why didn’t he listen?” she implored. “He promised… he’d do anything for me.”

“He lied,” the reflection snarled. Just then, there were dozens of duplicates of her all around Nessa—multiple reflections in the ice as if the room were a house of mirrors. “He loved me, but he would never love me more than his crown.”

Nessa backed away. No… this was just an illusion. This was all a part of the trial. Lapin couldn’t have lied to her about his promise. Not after everything they’d been through.

“Once he’d disposed of the royal family, he let the kingdom fall into disarray,” the reflection said, her many voices ringing throughout the chamber. “He refused to help those in need. Crime ran rampant in the streets. He waged war on neighboring kingdoms, and as a result of his arrogance, he brought death and destruction to Featherbeard. To my family’s doorstep.”

More screams filled Nessa’s ears. She heard the fearful cries of her little siblings, her mother and father, and her throat seized up.

No—not her family. No, no, no.

“I was his queen, yet I could do nothing to stop him,” the reflections continued. “Without the staff, I was powerless to protect the kingdom. So I was forced to take the Eye back from him.” At that moment, the rubies on their crowns began to melt. Liquid red trailed down, wetting the top of their heads. “I used it to kill him. I took the throne for myself.”

Nessa staggered back. No. In the future, she—she killed him?

She would… she would never…

“He let my family die,” the reflections said bitterly, tears shining in their eyes. Red rivulets trickled down her face like blood. “He let Featherbeard burn. So I put out the fire myself. By getting rid of him.”

There were clamoring voices all around her. Her family’s screams, mixed with Lapin’s cries of pain. It was too much, too much.

It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. A future this hopeless, this bleak, could never come to be. She’d never let it. She’d never.

I must not heed the voices. I must not heed the voices.

“No!” Nessa shouted, covering her ears and tearing her eyes away. She couldn’t look at herself anymore—look at those hollow, bloody versions of herself. They weren’t real. They would never be real.

But when she opened her eyes, suddenly they were gone. There was only one reflection looking at her now—a new one.

It was her again—older by several years, just like the first reflection. But this version of her wasn’t somber and resigned; she was relaxed, smiling. She wasn’t wearing a ruby crown, but she held the Serpent’s Eye in her hands.

By all accounts, this version of her seemed… happier. But there was something about her that didn’t feel right. Despite the smile on her lips, there was no life or color in her eyes.

“Who are you?” Nessa asked her warily.

Her reflection giggled. “I’m you, silly,” she responded. “Isn’t it obvious?”

No, Nessa thought to herself. You don’t feel like me at all.

“From the future,” she said evenly.

“Of course,” the reflection said. “But don’t worry—this future is perfect. Lapin is perfect!”

Perfect? What on Earth does that mean? “What are you talking about?”

“You know,” the reflection said, almost sing-songy. “You’re afraid. Deep down, you think Lapin is just stuck being evil forever. You’re afraid he’ll never change his ways, no matter what you do. But you’re wrong! All you need is the Eye.”

The Eye? What?

“He was gonna kill Peter and Chickenhare,” the reflection explained casually. “Said he needed them out of the way. They needed to die, he said. I tried to talk him out of it, but he just wouldn’t listen to me. So I fixed him! I used the Eye to change his mind—make him good. It can do anything you want, y’know.”

Once again, voices were filling her ears—Lapin’s voice, and her voice, too.

“You were right, Nessa. You were right about everything. I’m—I’m so sorry.”

“I know—it’s okay. I just want us to be happy.”

“We will be, my love. We will be.”

Nessa brought a hand to her forehead. I fixed him. Those words chilled her.

This version of her had used the Eye on Lapin—not to kill him, but to permanently alter his mind. His heart.

“You… changed him?” she asked, disbelieving.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” the reflection said nonchalantly. “He needed to change, didn’t he? So I made it happen. I just rewrote his brain a little, that’s all.”

Nessa stared at her. “You—You can’t do that.”

“I already did,” the reflection retorted. “I made him perfect! He’s wonderful now. So sweet and docile—he never talks back or gets on my nerves anymore. My parents love him. He’s so good now, Peter pardoned him for all his crimes.”

Peter and Lapin’s voices conversed inside Nessa’s head.

“Oh, brother, I couldn’t be happier about this. This is what I’ve always dreamed of—you and I, getting along.”

“I’m a changed man, Peter. A better man. I changed for love.”

Peter chuckled. “Love truly is the most powerful force on Earth, isn’t it?”

Nessa shook her head. No, no… this was all wrong, so wrong. It was all fake. Lapin was too different—he was practically someone else entirely. He could never become so different so quickly, without time or effort, and the rift between him and Peter could never be healed so easily.

In this future, Lapin hadn’t grown or learned anything at all—he’d just been put under a spell.

“No,” she said. “You can’t just fix people. It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple,” the reflection insisted. “When you have magic.”

“No,” Nessa said again. “I—I would never use the Eye on him. I would never use the Eye on anyone.”

I fell for him as he is. Despite his flaws, despite his past. Right now, he’s not his best self, but he can be better. I know he can.

I love him because I know he can change.

The reflection’s smile turned to a frown. Now, her expression was much closer to that of the first’s—cold and bitter, her colorless eyes matching her demeanor. Duplicates filled the room once more, covering the icy walls with more reflections.

“You’re wrong,” they all hissed. “You think he can change, all by himself? He’s evil. That’s all he’ll ever be, unless you fix him yourself.”

“I don’t have to fix him,” Nessa fought back. “I’ve seen what he can do—what he’s capable of. There’s good inside him. I can bring it out of him.”

“No, you can’t!” the reflections spat. “He won’t listen to you. He won’t change just because he loves you. What do you think he’ll do when he gets the Eye? When he has unlimited power at his fingertips?”

Nessa clenched her fists. “I won’t let him use it for evil. I won’t let anyone get hurt.”

“You’re a fool,” the reflections said poisonously. “You can’t have him like this. You don’t love him. If you really loved him, you’d understand what he is—a monster.”

There were so many voices in her ears—impossible to ignore.

“Monster… monster!”

“He’s killed. He will kill again!”

“You’re weak. Your heart is weak.”

“You’re wrong. You don’t love him.”

They were trying to break her—but she wouldn’t let them. She refused to listen to them.

This was a trial. It wasn’t real. None of this was real.

“I do love him,” Nessa declared, standing her ground. “And he’s not a monster. He can use the Eye for good. We both can.”

The eyes of the reflections glowed fiery red. Nessa no longer recognized the images of herself in the ice—now they just looked like wild, wicked rabbits baring their teeth at her.

“Fool!” they snarled. “He’ll betray you! He doesn’t love you!”

“He does love me.” She was shaking, but she didn’t dare back down from this. “I believe in him. I trust him.”

The reflections’ eyes burned.

The voices in Nessa’s ears were overpowering. They screamed and howled inside her skull, like swarms of angry insects. Wincing, she fell to her knees on the icy floor, clutching her head. She couldn’t hear anything but the voices now.

“Fool! Don’t trust him!”

“Give up!”

“Use the Eye!”

“Change his heart!”

“Change yourself!”

“You’re blind to the truth!”

Nessa shut her eyes, gripping her ears. “I’ll never give up on him!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. “I’ll never use the Eye on him! It’s wrong!”

So loud. The voices were so loud.

THEY ARE WRONG. THEY ARE ALL AGAINST ME. THEY ARE WRONG. THEY ARE ALL AGAINST ME.

I must not heed the voices. I must not heed the voices.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed. “I know I’m right! I won’t let anyone get hurt! I’ll never use the Eye for evil!”

The voices surged in volume, swirling and swarming all around her, threatening to swallow her whole. Nessa kept her eyes shut. She was terrified. She’d never felt so afraid, so vulnerable in all her life. It felt like she was about to die, just like that night when the mantis had almost killed her.

Was this what had happened to Wilder? Had he lost his mind in this room, haunted, driven mad by these voices? Had he ever made it out of the Serpent’s Chamber? Would she ever make it out?

I’m telling the truth. Please.

I know what I believe. I trust my heart. So please…

Please believe me.

The voices got louder and louder and louder, drowning her, consuming her. She heard the sounds of ice shattering all around her, like thousands of mirrors breaking at once.

Then, all of a sudden, she could hear nothing at all.

There was only silence.

Trembling, Nessa let go of her ears, slowly opening her eyes.

The Serpent’s Chamber was as quiet as death. Every one of her reflections had vanished, and one of the walls of ice had completely shattered, revealing another, much smaller room beyond it. A quiver in her limbs, she rose to her feet, moving towards it despite the fear that still clung to her.

As carefully as she dared, she entered the space that had opened up—a tiny alcove, where the cavern wall had been just moments ago. Its walls, made of ice, were pure white in color, countless little icicles shining from every corner like miniature eyes. Inside the alcove, a low platform stood before her. Seated on top of the platform was the stone head of the Serpent God.

The head was missing one eye, leaving an empty socket in its place, but its other eye—a bright, blood-red jewel the size of her fist—was perfectly intact. Nessa stared at it, her breath caught in her throat.

The Serpent’s Eye. The Serpent’s Eye was right in front of her.