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uncertain, into old patterns. She kept her eyes and ears open, her posture upright but not tight. Ready.

How would she handle an attack in the narrow street? She had not brought Calamity out of a desire to have a break from the malicious blade, but a simple, serviceable dagger was sheathed at her side. She was fast and skilled enough to take a half-dozen with it— a round ten if they were slow or weak. But how would she protect Alphonse? Perhaps she ought to make getting in the air a priority…

Delyth glanced down at Alphonse when the healer slid closer. “What is it, annwyl?”

“I think this is Brande’s home.” She motioned towards a small cottage. If that was the right word. The roof was dilapidated, and it sat so close to the small cliff face, Alphonse wondered if the home was at risk of falling into the sea below. But there was the door painted red and the garden of wisteria he had told them of, and they had walked the right number of blocks down.

Despite the roof’s state, the rest of the home was clean, the front garden cleared and planted. There was even a small windcatcher charm hanging from a spindly old tree. Alphonse recognized the work, meant to attract good luck and harmony. It seemed like something Brande would have in his home. Still, Alphonse felt uneasy as she opened the little gate before the path leading to the door. She hadn’t ever met his wife nor his children.

Alphonse held Delyth’s hand tight and knocked. A voice called out for them to wait one minute. She could hear someone shuffling around behind the door, and then it swung open slightly to reveal…

No one.

Alphonse frowned and then looked down. A little boy, barely tall enough to reach the handle, stood in the doorway, staring up at them with interest. In his free hand, he clutched a piece of half-eaten fruit, and his face was sticky with its juices. “Oh, hello there,” the healer murmured as a woman bustled around the corner, wiping her hands on an apron. She looked much like Brande: slim with silken skin and wide eyes. Her hands were webbed, her teeth were sharp, but her hair was long and coiled in a knot at the back of her neck. Alphonse thought she must be considered very attractive for her kind as her features lit up when she smiled.

“Maiak! You little minnow. I’ve told you not to open the door without mommy.” Despite the scolding, the boy only continued to stare up at them stoically. “Are you Healer Alphonse?” the woman asked, looking both newcomers over.

“I am. This is Brande’s home?”

“Indeed. I’m Kala, and this is our son Maiak, who, of course, you already know. Please come in. I’m happy to see you have arrived in La’ Cante safely. Brande told me you planned to come.”

Scooping up Maiak, Kala opened the door wider to admit Alphonse and Delyth. It was a tight squeeze, and Kala smiled playfully. “You’re a big one, aren’t you?” She asked Delyth, her voice friendly and light. “Don’t fret, we’ll eat in the back garden; the night should be mild.”

Delyth squeezed her wings in tight and ducked to enter the doorway. When she stood, the tops of her folded wings brushed the ceiling. She looked a little sheepish at Kala’s jest. Compared to both Kala and Brande, the warrior sort of… loomed.

The inside of the house was inviting, clean though cluttered with the belongings of those who lived there. The floors were wood, worn but smooth, and the walls were painted a cheery green. Alphonse knew they were headed to the kitchen well before they reached it from the smell. Something delicious was cooking. Warm and spiced. It was unfamiliar, but the smell was enough to make her mouth water.

The healer followed Kala into the kitchen in time to hear the Cabot woman exclaim. A pot on their little stove was rattling in its seat, froth bubbling from a dancing lid. Kala pressed Maiak into Delyth’s arms, surprising both the warrior andthe boy, then rushed over to turn down the heat.

“Only took my eyes off it for a moment,” she was fussing. “Please, have a seat. Brande won’t be long.”

She gestured to a wooden dining table complete with chairs: simple furniture, but carefully made. Delyth and Maiak made their way to one of the chairs, and the warrior eased into it with relief, relaxing her tight hold on her wings.

Maiak examined Delyth stoically for several seconds, an expression she matched in solemnity, and then smiled widely. Unlike his parents, who were both sharp-toothed, the toddler’s gums were as yet bare. He seemed to have no problem with the soft, half-eaten peach he clutched, though. He reached out with his moderately less-sticky free hand and stroked the hawk feather braided into Delyth’s hair before pointing to her wings.

“Bird,” he pronounced and went back to eating, leaving Delyth fighting back a fit of giggles.

The tension in Alphonse’s gut relaxed some as Kala moved around the cramped kitchen. While Brande and his family clearly were not rich, their home was warm, inviting, and well maintained. He wasn’t suffering as she had previously worried. She watched as Maiak offered Delyth the last bite of his mushed up peach and had to hide a smile. The back wall of the kitchen had large, open windows that allowed a brisk ocean breeze in. The air smelled of salt, and she suspected it kept Brande and his family healthy.

Kala bustled around the stove, stirring and adding spices into the various pots before turning to prop her hands on her hips with a great sigh. “Maiak is right. You are one of the God Children, though I haven’t seen your kind before. We mostly have Fish Skins and Shark Teeth in these parts. Brande said, you are from the mountains up north?”

Delyth scrunched up her nose and shook her head at Maiak. The last bit of his peach

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