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  Please wake, Rin. I'm becoming more anxious the longer you sleep. The injury to your head worries me more than the one on your leg. It doesn't look bad, but head injuries are deceptive. You're resilient, but some things can't be overcome. I'm sure I'm worrying myself for nothing. It's a knock on the head and you'll be fine after some comfortable rest and attention. I hope you don't try to rush your recovery. You hit your head and lost a lot of blood, so let me take care of you for a while.

  I'm tired and my words are slanting down the page. I haven't slept since yesterday morning. Or whatever it was that felt like yesterday morning. I certainly couldn't sleep after you fell, not when the healer was busy fixing you and I didn't know if you'd survive.

  Hey, you squeezed my hand when I whispered your name. And now again as you've slid your thumb along mine. I think you're all right. I'm tired, so tired, and I've filled up too many of your pages with my ridiculous handwriting. I'm going to put this away now so I can lie down and hold you in whichever way hurts both of us the least. The hook wound still hurts if I put pressure on it, so I may need to move to your other side. I love you, Rin. Rest and recover so we can continue toward home and spend our lives as our kindred souls meant them to be: together.

  Day 26

  Rin woke up for a while earlier. She was fatigued and confused about where she was, but overall lucid. She recognized us and stayed calm when the healer came in to check on her. Her pain level is either low or she's highly tolerant. Knowing her as I do, I'm more inclined to believe the latter. The healer gave her something that I assume was to relieve pain and help her sleep. Once she was satisfied that Yana and Shan were safe and unharmed, Rin asked me to stay with her while she slept so she had something familiar nearby when she woke. I wasn't intending to go anywhere, so that was an easy request to fulfill.

  I've been sitting here for a while. Shan and I are examining some leather-bound books that he found on a shelf in his sleeping room. They're written in the same spiraling language as the words we found on the walls along the river. Several books contain illustrations and I've recognized a few of the animals and fungi we've encountered.

  These Varaku do not speak the Common language like the others do, but it is obvious that they are literate and intelligent, and they understand enough scientific principals to support both infrastructure and medicine. I've still only seen a small handful of Varaku here, and I'm having difficulty telling them apart, aside from the elderly healer. I'm not the only one. Shan and Yana both commented that they all look alike. I was surprised to hear that from Yana since she spent her earlier life among the Varaku, but these aren't those Varaku. Yana doesn't recognize their spoken language, either. She's more intrigued by them than afraid, and it's nice to see her less wide-eyed and jittery.

  I'm trying to figure out if I should even call these people Varaku. They likely have their own name for themselves, and hopefully I'll figure it out before long. Their resemblance to the monstrous Varaku is strong, but not complete, and I feel it would be offensive to refer to them by the same name. Their skin is violet instead of ashen, their mouths aren't as wide, and their head tentacles are waist-length and neatly arranged instead of shorter and wild. Their diamond eyes are bright and curious rather than hungry.

  We're not prisoners here, and the doors are left open. I don't think they'd mind if we went outside and explored the village, but none of us are willing to leave Rin. They've brought us food, water, and fresh clothing to wear. The tunics don't fit right because we only have one set of arms each instead of two, but I don't care as long as they're clean, dry, and warm. I'm so tired of being cold. It feels as if the chill has seeped into my bones and will never leave. I long for the arid warmth of a Jadeshire summer. The city is wet in the winter, dry in the summer, and temperate throughout of the year. It never gets as cold as it is this cave system. I've only been almost-warm twice since finding myself underground: in the waterfall cave and right here where I am now. There is no fireplace in this room, but it is being passively heated from somewhere. Thermal vents, perhaps.

  My mind is wandering. I may need to get up for a few minutes to stretch my tingling legs and make sure the children don't need anything. I shouldn't refer to Shan as a child. He's not. I missed that part of his life, entirely and needlessly. I'm surprised he's decided to stop hating me these last few days, but I'm not going to question him about it. I'm afraid he'll revert to anger. Rin told me our son is a forgiving person, but I suspect he's still distrustful of me. He has the right to be. I don't trust myself to make reasonable decisions, so I can't expect anyone else to trust me.

  I stood and stretched for a moment, but now I'm back on the bed. Shan and Yana are busy drawing on a stack of dense, gray parchment. Shan smirked when I approached and told me not to ruin the surprise. Now that I think about it, they may not have been drawing. I think he's teaching her how to read and write. That is such a wonderful gift to give her, Shan. I'm glad they're using this rare calm and slow time for something useful.

  As for me, I'm going to return for a while to what I do best: being useless. Perhaps not entirely useless. I am a decent pillow and hot water bottle. I can toss a knife six yards to pin a fly to wall. I can protect my family to the best of my ability. I haven't had them for long and our time together has been overwhelmingly difficult, but we belong to each other. Whether we have days or decades left to live, we will spend it as kindred.

  Day 26, part 2

  My parents are asleep and Yana is practicing writing the first couple letters of the alphabet. I'm stealing the journal. Daelis certainly has ugly handwriting. I can barely read it. No wonder he keeps scribes on staff.

  Mom, I hope you heal fast so we can get out of here. These people are nice enough, but something is making me uneasy. I can't quite figure out what. I just know we shouldn't stay here any longer than we have to.

  I panicked when you fell down that hill. Then I saw the blood and was terrified that you were either dead or dying. Cinda's death was bad enough, and I barely knew her. You've been with me for my entire existence and losing you to the underground would devastate me. You're supposed to live a long time, until you're old and at peace with leaving the world. You can't leave now, Mom. I need you. We all do. You're the strength and endurance, Yana is the innocent hope, and I guess Daelis is the heart since he's abducted yours. I don't know what I am yet, but the four of us are a puzzle that fits together to reveal the key to our escape. I don't think any of us will make it home if one dies, and we're lost forever if we lose you.

  Rest and heal on a bed that's not made of rocks. Eat to recover the blood and weight you've lost. I hope your body allows for a quick recovery, because there is something wrong and we can't linger. I'll tell you if I figure out what's causing my unease. Hopefully it's just paranoia and nothing real.

  Daelis, I know you're going to read this, so this part is for you. You revealed your secrets, so I'll tell you mine. I already suspected you were my father before I came here, even before I met you prior to my meeting with the Masters. Mom didn't tell me. I figured it out on my own. About two years ago, I decided to figure out where I came from. Being half-elven made that an easy task. My coloring and minimal resemblance to Mom made it even easier. Most of the elves in Jadeshire are forest and lowland elves, and their hair and eyes tend to be dark, not blond and blue-green. Highland elves usually have light or red hair, but there aren't many in Jadeshire who lived there around the time I was born. There are a few prominent desert elf families in the city: the Sandstars, the Dustwilds, the Savanans, the Oasinans. And the Goldtrees, who aren't named after the golden maples or cypress of the temperate forests like I thought, but instead after a type of palm tree that grows in the Auran Desert. Anyway, I narrowed my list to the five desert elf families, though at the time I thought I might be reaching too far up the hierarchy and maybe I should start looking at merchant and lowborn elves instead of highborns.

  Turned out, I was looking in the right place. One day I was helping Grandpa in h
is shop and asked him what my mother was like at my age. The question was unrelated to my search, just something I was curious about. He told me that he thought she was wild and she disappeared a lot. I guess she was actually training as sentinel in secret when she disappeared, but that's not the current point. Grandpa didn't know what to do about her, so he got her a job. She was fifteen when she started working as a scribe for the Goldtrees, and she held that job for over a year. I was born a year and a half after she started her scribe job so the timing made sense. I looked up the Goldtrees, and found only three. Duke Daelon Goldtree. His wife, Duchess Ranalae Nightshadow-Goldtree. Their only child, Lord Daelis Goldtree. Not many options to explore, so it didn't take me long to figure it out. I thought the Duke was too haughty and boring to by my mother's type, not to mention old, but I'd seen the Duchess once at the city center, and I remembered that she and I have the same blue-green eyes. I moved down a generation and learned about Daelis. Only six years older than Mom, known for his intelligence and charisma, and it turned out that Mom worked directly for him, not his father. Not only did the timeline fit, but I looked like him.

  I grew up thinking that my father didn't know I existed, but your reaction when I met you at the University made me realize that you knew about me all along. You called me by name before I introduced myself. You were overly friendly and helpful toward me, which I would have found odd if I didn't already suspect our relationship. I came out of that encounter feeling hurt that you knew about me but never bothered to meet me, but then I remembered that most highborn elves look at other races with disdain and believe that half-bloods dilute elven blood into something disgraceful. You didn't seem offended by my existence, but I thought your family would be. Your father isn't exactly known for his compassion when there are humans involved. You don't seem to have that bias, but I think you found it impossible to pull away from the people who did.

  So, Daelis, I understand you now and I forgive you. It's clear that you genuinely love my mother and she loves you. Even Yana loves you, and I'm a little jealous that you skipped out on my childhood but get to be part of hers. I may have decided that you're worth liking, but I still vow that if you ever hurt or betray Mom again, you'll learn just how much of her fierceness I inherited.

  It looks like Yana is either done with her letters or is getting bored. She's learning quickly and I don't think it will be long before she can read. I'm going to teach her how to write her name next. I hope she does okay in our world. I know what it's like to not fit in with any of the races of Jadeshire. Most people are fine with me, but it is the ones who aren't that yell the loudest and cut the deepest. Dozens of loving voices can't completely drown out the shrill screams of prejudice. Yana will be stared at and whispered about. Parents will shoo small children to the side so they won't see her. Some assholes will even act like it's their duty to confront her directly. I don't know how to prepare her for that because it still hurts when it happens to me. It's sometimes difficult being different, but it's not as if I can change who and what I am, so I'm learning to embrace it.

  I'm putting this away now. Yana needs attention and I want her to be able to write her name so she can show my parents when they wake up. Our parents. She's part of our family now. I always wanted little sisters, and now I have one. If we make it home, maybe I'll get to have more.

  Now, wake up mended so we can get out of here.

  –Shan

  Day 27

  It's been a couple years since I was last in this much pain. I'll get through it, but moving is going to be difficult for a while. I'm not sure which is worse—the crushing, nauseating headache, or the deep, gnawing torture in my thigh. I'm going to make this short so I can go back to sleep. I've been spending more time asleep than awake, but my body needs that right now.

  I see my boys got ahold of my journal and made a mess of it. That's all right. I haven't read anything they've written yet because my eyes are on fire and I keep seeing spirals instead of words, but I'm hoping that they didn't get too weepy about my accident and current condition. I'll be fine. I've been through worse.

  I'm eager to learn more about these Varaku who are helping us and the village they live in, but that will have to wait. For now, I'm content to know that my family is safe. Daelis is constantly with me, and I'm glad for it. He makes me feel secure and he's a good distraction from the pain. Shan has taught Yana how to write her name. She's proud of her shaky letters, and so am I.

  Head getting worse. Too much movement. Be patient with yourself, Rin. Tomorrow will be better.

  Day 27, part 2

  I have decided that Rin's concussion means she is in no condition to read or write, so I've confiscated her journal for now. She's not happy about that, but I believe her frustration is more directed toward her injuries than toward me.

  There are birds or bats or some other manner of flying beast flapping about outside the window next to the bed. I think they are more bird than bat. The have no feathers and their wings are membranes, but they have beaks and talon feet. Their long tails terminate in luminescent bulbs. Normally, something so strange would be relegated to a place in my nightmares, but here they seem completely benign. At least to us. There are two Varaku using spongy-looking brooms to shoo the creatures out of a garden. Every time they lower their brooms, the bat-birds come back. It is quite amusing from my perspective, though I imagine the Varaku are frustrated at their own apparent futility.

  "Daelis? I'm hungry." Rin touches the back of my arm. Her eyes aren't open, but I know she's fully awake. Her eyes are too sensitive to handle the dim light right now.

  "Do you want to sit up?"

  "No."

  I retrieve the food tray from the table and set it next to her. She props herself on her elbow, but doesn't fully raise her head. Her eyes flicker open, then immediately close.

  "What is it?" she asks.

  "Nothing still living, if that is what concerns you. It's bread filled with mushrooms, a vegetable that tastes somewhat like turnips mixed with pineapple, and a fatty meat that tastes more buttery than greasy. The vegetable next to that is mossy in texture and tastes of onions. The flavor isn't bad, but I'll get you some water to wash it down with." I fill a cup from a stone pitcher, then sit on the edge of the bed.

  Rin takes a tentative bite. She decides the filled bread is worth eating and takes a larger bite. "What are you doing? What are our children doing?"

  I wait for her to swallow, then hold the cup to her lips. "I'm updating your journal. I've been trying to sketch those bird-bats that keep hitting the window, but my drawing skills are just as lousy as my penmanship. We already ate. Yana is practicing her writing again. She's determined to learn how to read and write before we return to finding the way out. Shan is looking through books again. He found another stack of them behind his bed."

  "Is he still afraid the violet Varaku are fattening us up to eat us?" Rin asks. Her smile turns to a grimace as she tastes the onion moss. "I don't think I like this one. I'll eat it anyway. The other is good."

  "He's uneasy. He thinks there is something strange about this place. Well, something stranger than everything we already know is strange. He's entitled to his mistrust, given what he's gone through. What all of us have gone through." I carefully run my fingers through her hair as she eats. Her scalp is bruised, but the swelling is receding around the carefully sutured laceration above her right ear. "Try not to worry too much about Shan and Yana. I'm taking care of them. Try to relax. Nothing is trying to eat us right now."

  Shan peeks around the curtained threshold that connects our adjoining rooms. "Hey, Daelis? I found something. Come see. Mom will survive a couple minutes without you hovering."

  Day 27, part 3

  Shan's books were either history or myth. Either way, they were interesting. They appeared to be picture books meant for children, which made interpreting them possible despite our inability to decipher the text.

  The first book he showed me was a version of the paintings we saw
on the wall along the river. It concluded with the exiles seeing the same violet light that brought us to this incredible cavern.

  The second book was a continuation of the first. The Jarrah were waiting for the exiles by the shore of the lake. Beside them stood a young golden dragon. The beast was leashed to a boulder and wrapped in heavy chains, so heavy and tight that the metal cut into her scales and caused her to bleed. The Jarrah unleashed the dragon and vanished in a burst of blue light. They intended for the dragon to eat the exiles, but she hesitated. The exiles approached her and removed the chains from her beaten body. They tended to her wounds and found her grazing animals to eat. She was grateful, but she was still in pain and always would be. The exile healers created a potion to relieve her suffering. They hollowed out a large section of rock within the mushroom forest and led her to it. She laid down, accepted the potion, and her pain vanished as she went to sleep. The exiles built their village over the sleeping dragon to keep her safe during her eternal slumber.

  "Well, now we know where the heat is coming from," Shan said after we examined the final page. "They exposed the edge of a lava pit when they dug the bed. Dragons love heat, so it was like a nice, warm fireplace. If it's real and it's down there, the heat radiating up is from both the lava and the sleeping dragon itself."

  "Or these could be lovely old fairytales intended for children," I said. I ran my fingertips around the spiraling text and wished I could read it. I can read six languages fluently and several more with mediocre skill, so my illiteracy in this setting made me uncomfortable. "I've never seen a dragon like this before. Look at the luminescent bulb on her tail. It's like some of the other creatures we've seen down here."