2/2

"You did. Why do you think it took him only three years to find your biological father, when the man had successfully hid himself from slavers and the vory of Saratov when they were actively hunting for him, you, and his miserable whore of a wife? He only found the bitch's corpse halfway through that search, the vory of Saratov stopped looking when Arseniy swore to them you were with me."

She planted her burning red face in her hands, desperately resolving to smother that damnable childhood crush of hers on the vor somehow. Maybe if she repeated 'foster father' in her head enough times it would go away?

Lisa laughing at her didn't help much. "Your sister will be home in a little bit, and I think I'm going to make something for us to eat while we catch up with another. It's nice to see you again too, Sonya."

"...alright..." Sonya was just going to sit there and nurse a blush until it died down to acceptable levels.

That was, after all, how Tatiana found her little sister when she got home for the night.

CLXVI (Thursday the 22nd of June, 1967 continued. Mafia Land.)

"Why a bar?" Tatiana asked dryly as she followed her little sister.

"Why not a bar?" Countered the thief, sniffing in mock irritation as she waved down the bartender.

The Sun user noted that her fellow Russian didn't even have to speak, she got a strange mix of vodka and what looked to be coffee cream over ice with little fuss.

"White Russian," the bartender announced with little fanfare, and was paid accordingly to the prices listed on the blackboard behind him.

Sonya was a drinker, who knew?

...who also could smoke like a proverbial chimney.

The prospective nurse sighed, rubbing at her forehead and taking a seat in an out of the way booth across from her little foster sister.

Why couldn't anyone realize their habits were unhealthy and do away with them?

Drinking she could understand, they had stressful lives in the underworld, but the smoking?

Her fellow thief was at least a very conscientious smoker, if you didn't smoke she wouldn't nearby unless you were outside. She also refrained from smoking in buildings on most occasions unless it was indicated that it was fine to do, because she knew not everyone was a smoker or alright with the habit.

It was still incredibly bad for a person, as recent investigations Mafia Land's hospital was finding out as well as contemporary and unaffiliated ones in Britain.

Sonya sat her half-drained glass of alcohol down and peered over to her through the gloom of dim-bar lighting. "How is Lisa doing, anyways? She seems fine... but I thought this therapy thing would take longer."

"It was supposed to, but the early pregnancy took us all by surprise." Tatiana admitted, feeling rather grateful that at least someone else in the family understood that it was going to be risky. "Lisa won't hear of maybe terminating this one until she's in a better condition for childbearing."

"That's entirely understandable, given how unlikely she thought it would ever happen."

"That doesn't mean I don't worry."

The blonde snorted at her. "Of course not. But given her stubbornness, we'd probably make better use of our time planning for the worst and hoping for the best."

'Pot, meet kettle,' Thought the former safecracker wryly, examining her younger sister's almost grown features and committing the changes to memory.

Coming from someone that started her career at age nine just so she could decide what to do on a day-to-day basis, it sounded a little hypocritical.

Growing up as the older sister of a little criminal genius like Sonya had made Tatiana rather insecure sometimes. Which was stupid, because she was sure the Storm-Cloud didn't realize she had cast that shadow over the Sun.

Nor what that would eventually mean for Tatiana herself.

She had felt inadequate often through their childhood, especially in lessons where her frightening maturity paid dividends in. Sonya applied herself faithfully to the lessons and skills taught to them for self-defense and combat, she preferred the dance lessons.

The blonde could crack a lock with picks in half the time it took her older sister, could pickpocket anyone that passed her, and kept herself out of trouble all at the same time. Said older sister got herself arrested taking a stupid dare from another girl in their neighborhood.

The Sun user's few areas where she could outshine the Storm-Cloud in had only soothed the hurt, not fixed it. History, safe cracking, and social settings. Things the other girl probably could do without rather happily.

Then Cherep happened.

Tatiana honestly owed her current relationship with that ever so icy and intimidating little foster sister to their foster brother. He highlighted a crack in that off-putting little girl, showing that Sonya wasn't quite so icy or cold.

Just uncertain, a bit lonely, and socially retarded.

The thought made the older Russian crack a helpless grin, because it was funny.

The younger woman had the skills, the maturity, a drive she didn't... but she also could not make a friend the normal way to save her life.

Poor, poor Cherep. He suffered the worst of that inability. Did a damn miracle with it, but still...

"What the hell is so funny?"

"Cherep. Aside him? Just a thought." Tatiana mustered a, probably shoddy, wry grin for her foster sister. Who was peering at her again, this time out of sheer confusion.

Probably caught the lie but couldn't understand why she was lying to her face.

Alas, their brother wasn't a miracle worker for all he pulled a minor one off once before. "Aside plans of depressing nature, what is up little sister?"

"I learned to surf yesterday." Sonya's expression said exactly what she thought of that, and it was enough out of the blue that Tatiana assumed surfing was their foster brother's suggestion for a hobby. "Besides, that? You said, when I was between China and Singapore, that something strange was going on."

"Yeah... I think I'm being stalked." The Sun Flame user admitted slowly, because even if she was sure there was someone following her this was still a relatively small island. It might've just been a coincidence.

Even after being informed of that, the Storm-Cloud looked dubious over any such coincidences.

"There... was... a group actively hunting Flame users. Even here. You've made no bones about being such a thing, and the Zolotovs' aren't... known to be combat orientated."

"You mean because we specialize in stealing things, not piking our enemies on stakes outside our gates." She had run into that a couple times so far.

It was as prevalent as sexism in the mafia, somehow killers and men were more respectable than thieves or women no matter how you looked at it.

Her baby sister opened her mouth, blinked and jerked her head to the side, then sighed as she shut it without saying what she had been about to say. Instead, she jerked her thumb at a man with dark spiky hair who was rather casually sauntering up to the sisters. "This, Tatiana, is Renato Sinclair. You find out who's stalking you when Arseniy or I'm not here, he might be convinced to take care of it."

Tatiana blinked at the sudden change in their conversation. The man she had pointed out almost jerked to a stop. "You know her?"

Sonya turned to look up at the lanky, sharply dressed hunk she had pointed out. "Renato, this is my foster sister. Primakova Tatiana."

"You have more siblings?" Sinclair asked dubiously while giving the redhead an appreciative look over but turning back to the blonde easily enough.

"Since when do you know Russian?" She asked instead of answering that rather personal question.

He flashed her a sly smirk. "Since around when you learned Italian."

Tatiana... was fascinated.

Were they flirting?

It was horrible. She couldn't look away.

No, wait. Sinclair was flirting, Sonya was merely being difficult. It might just be how the man acted around women, but...

...her little sister didn't realize the man was flirting with her, however casual it was or was not.

You couldn't pay for entertainment like this. She dearly wished she had a camcorder.

CLXVII (Thursday the 22nd of June, 1967 continued. Mafia Land.)

"...another thing, it's a little creepy how you keep on finding me." Sonya continued to snipe at him, looking into the milky dregs of whatever she had been drinking. "Especially when I've not been on the island that long. Maybe an hour and a half, and you can track me down to a specific bar?"

Renato huffed at her admittedly valid complaints, snapping his fingers at the bartender to get them another round of drinks.

The redhead nurse seated across from the thief and the hitman, who he was very damn happy he hadn't gone with his first suspicion and just shot her, was still staring blankly at them.

Sisters, fuck.

That would explain why she trusted the other woman to pick up her mail.

At least he hadn't shot her sister. It would make it damn hard to get the blonde to trust him enough to go visit Shamal in Vongola territory if he had.

Thankfully he hadn't gone through with his latest idea either, to seduce the woman to figure out what she was doing with Sonya's mail. He'd staved off doing so because the thief managed a small visit that seemed just specifically to meet with the nurse earlier in the year.

That would've been... awkward.

He was sure he could've gotten around whatever reaction that would've caused, eventually, but women tended to be touchy about sharing men with their sisters. Unless it was their idea first.

"So... wait. This is that Renato Sinclair?" Spoke up the busty redhead after another long pause, finally actually blinking her baby blue eyes. "The one that's going to collaborate with me on the Sunny side of the research?"

...Sonya's sister was a Flame user as well. Renato wasn't sure why he was surprised.

Sun and Cloud, and the little thief still claimed that relationship being warmer than most others was an old wives' tale.

"That would be me, yes. I look forward to working with you, Miss Primakova." Purred her fellow Sun at her, but like always Sonya didn't even twitch and for some reason the nurse suddenly had a wicked grin.

"The pleasure is all mine, I assure you." It wasn't flirty, but it was still wicked, that grin. The woman turned it onto her little sister. "Sonya, forgive me for this."

Tatiana burst out laughing, almost slumping across the table while she did so.

Eying her shaking form, the younger Russian shrugged when Renato shot her a confused look. "I think she either might be coming down with something, or the strain of her studying is getting to her. It's the second time she's gone strange on me tonight."

"I heard the medic's course at the hospital was hellish." The hitman offered uncertainty.

It was the first time a woman had laughed after he flirted with her, and he found he didn't like the experience.

"S-speaking of..." Offered the nurse unsteadily, sliding herself out of her side of the booth. "I really should get back to that. Sonya, I'll see you later tonight. Sinclair, I've got the Sun's version of her research journal and you can find me at the hospital most days."

"Night Tatiana." The thief offered to her back, more interested in the refreshed drinks a server brought them.

Renato merely offered a nod to her, a little unsettled still.

"So, you told her about me, but didn't tell me about her?" It wasn't surprising, but it still had to be said.

She scoffed at him and his weak complaint. "I trust her more than I had you for the longest time. She knew I knew you not too long after I asked you about a little favor. To be honest, you two probably would've met this winter anyways. Especially since you seem to want to be let in on my research efforts."

It was a little strange to hear Sonya talk in her native Russian. It was faster than her English, and a lot less old-fashioned or proper. Sort of like suddenly hearing a queen swear like a sailor.

Interesting, but a little jarring at first.

"...someone is stalking my sister. A year ago, it was me. While I think you took care of whoever it was stalking me, can you look out for her?" She asked quietly, more to her drink than to him, when the woman in question she was concerned over was well out of the bar. "With the nurse courses, I'm not entirely sure if she can watch her own back and the security I'd trust to do it instead won't be staying for the entirety of her studies."

Well... Sonya's sister had a good eye. A few months of tailing someone would make them suspicious, if they were paying attention. The hitman nodded anyways, even if the culprit was himself.

It wouldn't hurt anything to agree, would make her think better of him, and since that was so... "Shamal wants you to visit."

The thief's lips twisted down, showing she didn't like the suggestion at all. "He can't come here?"

"I... would rather not, truthfully."

She sighed, accepting that as a reason easily enough. Shamal was Renato's little Mist ward, security was his to control.

"Maybe... sometime this winter. I can't stay long right now, I'm actually leaving tomorrow. And since we're probably spending Christmas here, but I've got a fair few major things to handle next year that can't wait any longer..."

"Understandable." The fact that she was considering it at all was enough for now. "You know... Vongola hosts a ball on Christmas..."

"A ball." Sonya blinked as she repeated that, then shot him a rather acidic look that questioned his sanity. "A... Vongola Ball..."

"I am, unfortunately, forced to attend myself." Renato agreed sourly with the feelings she managed to press into her statements. "But then I could put you up in the guest quarters. Much nicer than any old hotel, and probably safer as well. A lot of people will be trying to kiss up to Timoteo Vongola, you could probably slip on through and see Shamal without much fuss to deal with."

She didn't look remotely sold on that idea. Skeptical, if he was pressed to be honest.

"...let me think about that one."

That was probably a no.

CLXVIII (Sunday the 2nd of July, 1967. Bombay, Maharashtra, Republic of India.)

Sonya didn't understand Lisa's smirking, or Tatiana's.

She was very confused when she left Mafia Land behind, wondering what the two of them were sharing behind her back that made them so amused.

She would've liked to know. Good news was always appreciated.

Cherep insisted they go surfing when she reached Bombay, and it was only the thief's long years training in ballet and a more recent grounding in circus acrobatics that allowed her not to embarrass him in front of the more skilled natives of India by wiping out frequently.

Surfing wasn't really her hobby. Her foster brother was, unfortunately for her, good with any kind of sport put in front of him. She would've liked that kind of skill, but frankly she preferred less risk to her off-time leisure pursuits.

There was more than enough risk as it was in her life.

The week of circus performances started out as last year's had, it was long hours in hot weather entertaining people who ran the gamut of happy to sourly begrudging to be there. Muggy beach weather this time, but the added water made it all seem worse somehow.

Sonya didn't really mind, she could care less what the crowd thought if they paid, which probably meant she was a bad showgirl. Maybe a good one.

She couldn't decide.

The problem with week-long showings of the Groβes Volksfest came with a price the thief hadn't expected.

Cherep had an uncommonly good luck with his performances, as he had gone almost half a year without so much as a hiccup in his ever-developing stunt work. It stood to reason that when he pressed it for nearly an entire week, something finally went wrong.

She didn't hear the crash, but the screams caught her attention fast. She blessed the fact she was a roving draw girl for Crina and promptly abandoned her duties, bolting for the big-top.

The 'Great and Glorious Skull' had a show scheduled for that very moment, and she wasn't surprised his luck finally ran out.

It was... horrible, really. Aside the panic in the stands she ignored as useless to the situation, which the ring announcer was rather fruitlessly trying to quell with rapid reassurances in several dialects of the native language, his motorbike was lodged halfway into the front of the stands that were thankfully raised high enough to avoid getting someone else injured.

Her brother, or rather Skull, was laid out on the 'landing' side of the ramps set up. He also wasn't moving.

Sonya flatly ignored the closest thing the circus had to a medical professional, brushing him aside and crouching down next to her foster brother. His ring was still gleaming strangely, so she knew he was alright.

Or alive. Mostly alive.

...somewhat alive?

One of those.

Maybe if she repeated it enough to herself she would believe it more.

With a lack of things to do anything remotely helpful for this situation she instead straightened out his limbs, removed his helmet, and pressed a finger to his skull ring. Even if it scorched the pad of her index finger it was a sign that Skull's Flames were still working, and he was still alive.

After this, they were going to figure out exactly how one Flame user gave another a boost of Flames. If only to give her something to do instead of bear witness.

Fingers twitched under hers, and Sonya pinched the skin of his wrist harshly. "Get up. Now."

"...normally, one adds 'please' when asking for something." He cracked an eye open, and the thief rather blessed the fact the medic had left in a huff to fetch Master Liam and probably an actual doctor.

The stuntman's already purple eyes were effused with Cloud Flames. Which was creepy to look at, glowing purple eyes, until he blinked it away.

"...help me up?"

She wordlessly stood, pulling him up when he held up a hand.

Skull heaved himself up using her first as a lever then as a crutch, a hiss of pain escaping him when his ribs left the ground. The announcer seized on his 'recovery' quickly, and the panicking crowd finally calmed down now that they 'knew' they hadn't seen a man die in front of them.

Sonya felt a little cheap, or maybe used, standing next to the stuntman that could have died a little just now. The man in question waved a hand at the crowd to reinforce the idea he was fine and jostled her with his other arm that was thrown across her shoulders.

"I'm fine, Sonya. Perfectly fine. Calm down."

"Who said I am not?"

"Your eye coloring. Which is as purple as mine are." He informed her quietly, squeezing her in a sideways hug lightly. "Calm down before we have to have an awkward conversation with Master Liam about things of a fiery nature."

She just really wanted to murder whatever harmed her brother, which wasn't possible because Skull did it to himself. She couldn't even 'kill' his bike, it was likely not going to be removed from the stands in one piece as it was.

Frustrated, she instead jabbed him hard in the ribs then started pulling him away from all the damn eyes that paid to watch him cheat death.

Besides a painful sounding grunt, which she did regret drawing from him, the immortal stuntman didn't complain.

"You realize we may have to have a conversation of a fiery sort with Master Liam? They likely went to fetch you a doctor."

"Luckily, my talents don't actually spread to clearing up bruises instantly. There will be more than enough to explain a nasty tumble… just they won't be sore, and I won't have cuts or any reason for the blood."

Sonya opened her mouth to say 'good' but changed her mind before she could sound the first syllable. "Your bike is a loss."

"...yeah, I was afraid of that."

"...bloody nose to explain the blood?"

Skull peered down at her warily from the corner of his eye. "Why do I have the feeling you'll enjoy that?"

"...probably because I will."

CLXIX (Monday the 3rd of July, 1967. Bombay, Maharashtra, Republic of India.)

They did have to have an intensely uncomfortable conversation with Master Liam.

Uncomfortable in a different way than the thief had been counting on.

The doctor yanked from a nearby hospital scolded the unrepentant Sonya in heavily accented English for moving Skull after a 'nasty spill from a motorized bike', but since the stuntman wasn't showing any signs of broken bones or even a concussion he had to leave it at that.

The circus' medic, who she learned was named Vincent, got dismissed after marveling over the fact that a broken arm he knew her brother had wasn't there.

Master Liam turned a puzzled frown on the two of them. "Broken arms that disappear in mere minutes, a fall from thirty feet at high speed that didn't kill young Cherep... I suppose there is a reasonable explanation for this, yes?"

"Depends... on your definition of reasonable." The purple haired stuntman started sheepishly, glancing at the very silent thief sitting next to him. "I didn't know you had an estimated height for that."

"Léonard is a good friend of mine, I have not known him to make mistakes in all the years he has worked for me. He knows the height of the ramps you use, as well as the height of the stand's lower railing." The circus master informed them both easily enough, naming the announcer Sonya knew he substituted for when the man became sick or his voice became hoarse. "He was sure you were dead, or at least grievously injured� and yet, here you are. Marked, but not broken. Unlike your charming motorcycle, which I am informed is very badly mangled."

"About that..." Cherep started uneasily, scratching at the side of his jawline where purple stubble was starting to grow in. "I suppose you could say... I'm what one would call a... bit... gifted."

"A great gift indeed... for physical harm to not touch you."

"One thing, Master Liam." She finally interjected, slowly rising to her full height. She had been sitting on her brother's cot, but now moved herself so she was between the circus master and him. "Cherep may be immune to physical damage... but you are not."

A flash of lavender fire, and then Liam had to tilt his head back in order not to stick himself on the pick end of her Bec de Corbin.

"Any harm comes to him due to you, and you will wish for a death he cannot sustain."

The older man, strangely enough, smiled warmly at her. "So, I was right. You are here to protect your brother in more ways than one. I admire that, you know."

Sonya blinked at him blankly, a bit more than just bemused. What part of her threatening him did he miss?

"Err... Sonya? You... uh, should probably put that away." Cherep tugged on the end of the staff part of her weapon, flicking his eyes warily around to the canvas walls they were hidden behind.

"Little sister Sonya, you need not fear I will lead your brother astray." Nodding grandly when she did finally take the sharp end of her weapon away from his neck, their circus master glanced between them considering first the still armed thief then the stuntman. "But I take it from that little comment of yours that you will not be staying to ensure it yourself."

"...I cannot." She confirmed shortly, still highly suspicious of his behavior and lack of reaction. "I have, in the process of certain things, made myself too noticeable to be easily hid or ignored. Cherep may be able to remain free, but as for myself…"

"I am a thespian, my dear. You need not say more, for the unspoken sometimes is louder than what we say. Which is why I was not worried when you held something sharp and pointed at my throat, you see. Your body language said you did not wish to actually harm me." Liam confided to her cheerfully, then looked at his functionally immortal stuntman. "As for you, young Cherep? I am greatly relieved we will never have to arrange your funeral. A bit of warning would not have been amiss, but I was certain that your sister wasn't the only one hiding strange and unusual talents. Even before China, if I must be honest."

"You are taking this... surprisingly well."

His cheerful mien gained a bit of a mischievous edge to it after Cherep's comment. "Unlike what most of the... I suppose we shall call it the world under, seems to believe... the stage was the first place unique and breathtaking skills of wonder and talent first appeared. Rather Misty such things were back in the day, I am lead to believe."

Sonya blinked at him, then at her foster brother. Who looked to be trying hard not to laugh.

Fucking Mists. Dramatic, flighty, aggravating, annoying Mists.

She let her Bec de Corbin's Propagation go, palming her face instead.

...how far back would she have to look to find wildly popular 'illusionist' stage magicians?

Mystics with surprising skills in strange fire arts?

Damn it all to hell, wasn't one of the future Arcobaleno something along those lines?

The Mist one?

She really should've seen that one coming.

"How long can you stay with us, little sister?"

"...until the end of fall."

Liam nodded thoughtfully. "And... when were you going to inform us we needed to replace you?"

"...this fall."

The man's smile was wry that time. "I see. I am sure I have taken up more than enough of your time. Miraculous escape of injuries or not, I am sure at least one of you is tired."

"Well..." Cherep offered when the circus master swept out after a courtly little bow. "That was... interesting."

"Suspicious."

"Interesting." He corrected with a measure of asperity, slumping back onto his cot. "You need to get out of that world more often, Sonya. You're always so mistrustful of everything when you spent too much time in it."

"...I would rather my suspicions be unneeded than need suspicion but not apply it." She informed him quietly, playing absently with the slowly shrinking polearm and prying out the cracking spinel gemstone. "Also... he knew."

"Yeah."

"I…. do not know if you can tell him more or not. I would like to check on that before you do so."

Her still alive, it's fine brother yawned heavily and stretched out on the medical cot. "...sure."

She quietly tried not to panic.

CLXX (Friday the 7th of July, 1967. Dammam, Eastern Province, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.)

Dammam, Saudi Arabia, was exactly as hot and dry as Sonya had assumed it would be.

She wanted to know who it was that suggested this route to Master Liam, then punch them in the face a few times. She was from the icy north, the desert wasn't for the likes of her.

"So... were you ever going to tell me you weren't staying?" Crina asked, her voice as dry as the desert stretching before the circus' intended route.

"Aw, Crina. Don't tell me you're going to miss me." The thief dropped the chest of random 'mystic' things the old gypsy used to tell fortunes next to her, then wiped the sweat off her forehead under her head-scarf thing.

The one thing she did not like about the Middle East was the clothing.

Abaya cloaks were black, and she wanted to know why they had to be. It was a hellish color for a desert people to wear.

Yellow would've worked for her, hell even Cherep's favorite color purple if it was light enough.

The Groβes Volksfest couldn't open when nearly half its troupe weren't allowed to do away with the covering clothing all women had to wear while in the country. They also couldn't pretend all those women were men instead, which was something someone suggested, because those women did not have the contours to suggest so.

Meaning this would be a two-day long trip to Egypt instead.

Thankfully it would be on a train at least as far as Riyadh, the capital of Saudi Arabia, but then they would have to hire trucks to get them to Jeddah. A day on a boat to cross the Red Sea, and then they'd be in Egypt. Faris' home country. Jaq was a little sad they weren't going to go south enough to reach his this time around, but with how much she had risked heat stroke so far she couldn't really say the same.

After Egypt it would be Greece, and after a month or so spent there... Italy.

Which, Sonya wasn't looking forward to.

The thief hadn't investigated India's underworld, and she wasn't going to even try to peek at Saudi Arabia's. This country was harsh enough on their women she just didn't feel comfortable trying while she was with such a large target. Greece maybe, but then Italy's underworld may end up being even worse than anything Saudi Arabia could have.

...maybe it had settled down a little?

She couldn't really risk pissing off Vongola as she probably had the Chinese Triads. Renato knew not only her foster siblings, but he had a fairly good idea of where and when she usually was around certain places.

While she would not bet on either, the hitman or Arseniy, she was still pretty sure she wouldn't like the result of any kind of fight between the two of them.

Blinking, the thief looked back at the old gypsy woman when the silence stretched a bit too long.

"I'll miss your alcohol, not that you had much this time around." Crina offered after another long moment, managing to sound sincere.

It probably had to do with the fact they couldn't see the other's face, so if there was smirking or strange faces being pulled neither could tell.

"I'll probably stock up once we hit Cairo, and you can probably spend the last half of the year soused out of your mind on wine." Sonya admitted candidly. "So how about now that you know that?"

"I really will miss you, girl. Best apprentice I ever had."

"...that you never had."

"True enough." The old woman gave an exaggerated shrug and nod, so the motion was clearly understandable. "But with me, you were mostly out of the way and fairly self-sufficient. You two turned out a lot better than anyone else Master Liam ever took a risk on."

She turned sharply to look hard at her, who waved a robed arm rather gracefully even under the hot body-cloak that got in the way a lot. "Don't be so jumpy. You knew, didn't you?"

"I had wondered why Jaq was so friendly to someone he could barely string a sentence together to talk to, yes."

"And now you're leaving your dratted, overly cheerful brother to us twisted carnie types, how do you feel about that?"

"...a lot better about it, actually."

Her master of all things mystical paused in moving another load of things she generally used for 'creating ambience' and looked up at the thief. "You sure you can't stay? I think we might actually end up getting along one of these days."

"Be still my beating heart." Sonya muttered dryly, snagging the crate of silks and crystals the gypsy was paused over when she barked a laugh. "I am sure. If I didn't, things like China would start to happen more and more often. You all will have enough trouble just with Cherep."

"The more I hear about whatever it is you two of you share, the more I dislike it. What the hell is it about the two of you snot-nosed little brats that is so damn important?"

"Crina, you saw me carve your name into a rock with a fragile bit of crystal. You know full well what it is that Cherep cheated himself out of. Now think of what not-entirely-legal people could do with abilities like that."

The old woman paused, pressing a hand to her back and stretching out her spine as she stared up at the blue sky above them. "...if you need a few months, you've got a spot with me open for however long I last."

"I'm sure you'll be annoying anyone around you with your alcoholism and cryptic bullshit for years yet, you old bat."

She... would probably take her up on that. Sometime in the future.