Square, dirty hands flashed in front of Phyr’s eyes - ‘That’s what you said about those flowers. I still have the scars on my feet.’ Anders smiled gently. ‘What’s it look like?’

Phyr frowned slightly, and puffed his breath out in faint irritation. “Lagomorphs.”

Anders blinked. ‘What? Did I read that right? Like - small fluffy bunny rabbits?’

“Yes . . . About the size of little dogs. They’re white and black. They look totally harmless.”

‘Which is why we’re still sitting up here, I suppose.’ Anders gazed down patiently at the ground below them before meeting his friend’s rather irritated black eyes with his own laughing brown ones. ‘These aren’t dust bunnies, Phyr, you have nothing to fear from them, I’m sure.’ He clapped the taller boy on the shoulder with a lightly browned hand.

“Oh, hush.” The blond’s lips turned down in a faint frown, but Anders’ jest had won him a faint sparkle of amusement in the depths of Phyr’s eyes that was impossible to hide. “Let’s go.” He began to swing down from the tree with the utmost elegance before almost freezing in midair and scrambling back up, feet braced without grace against the rough bark of the tree, one arm dangling below him, the other wrapped around the branch, fingers tickling Anders’ heel beneath the material of boot and sock. He propped his square chin on the branch and glared up at his friend, tugging on his foot to get his attention. “If they turn out to be hideous demon . . . things in disguise, I put the blame utterly on you, Anders.”

‘Blame away, fire fish.’ The young man punctuated his sentence by poking his friend’s nose gently with the tip of one finger. Then Anders smiled sweetly at Phyr before dropping to the ground roughly, landing with a roll.

“Show off,” Phyr grumbled aloud for his own benefit before dropping after his friend, landing on his hands and knees, fingers splayed wide apart in the grass, toes digging into the soil.

Grinning, Anders, already on his feet, crouched down to offer Phyr a hand up, which the other brushed away with an irritated grimace before standing. Both stood in silence, surveying the small huddle of rabbits a stone’s throw away.

‘They certainly look like deadly hunters, Phyr, I can see why you were so cautious in your descent.’ Anders took a step forward, squinting curiously at the small animals. ‘They’re rather cute. I think your father might like one for a pet.’ His head turned so he could flash Phyr another impish grin, cheeks dimpling with the action.

‘Another word about Father and I shall be certain to seek out the nearest flesh eating piece of flora or fauna and feed you to it.’ One gloved hand came up and Phyr rubbed his chin. “I could kill one, if you like, dear carnivorous Anders.”

Anders’ nose wrinkled in distaste. ‘I wish you wouldn’t talk like that. It’s so damned uncivilized. Rather cruel, too, with the poor beasts just sitting there.’

“Easier than me going out and trying to slay some slavering beast just so you can fill your revolting stomach.” Phyr brought his other hand up, clasping it at his breast, and released his chin, putting his hand across the one over his chest and moving it back and forth towards his friend twice, lips quirking into a faint smile. ‘Teasing.’

Anders eyebrows quirked up in disbelief and he put one hand over his head, clenching it into a fist and making a playfully pained expression. ‘Hurt.’ Then he shook his head, dismissing the childish jesting. ‘Enough. I don’t want you slaughtering the poor things. They’re harmless.’

Phyr’s pale brows snapped down in a rather disagreeable frown. ‘They’re cheap meat, Anders.’ Seriously, he began to peel a glove off with long fingers. He stalked forward softly, shoulders tense, radiating impatience. Thrusting his hand forward, he spread snow white fingers that began to glow darkly, his lips moving very faintly.

“Phyr! Don’t be an idiot!” Anders stepped forward, moving to grab his friend’s arm and jerk his hand away from the unfortunate little animals.

Phyr side-stepped easily, refusing to let Anders break his concentration, and narrow black fire darted from his fingertips, striking at the centre of the huddle of rabbits.

Time seemed to stop. Then there was an explosion of black and white fluff sending Phyr flying back into a rose bush, disappearing from sight.

Anders stared in shock for a minute as the small rabbits snuggled together as though nothing had happened, before he rather roughly swept his foot between them, half-fearing they’d explode again. Instead, he lost his balance, toppling into a bush, and the rabbits hopped off rather hurriedly in inexplicable terror.

Groaning, Anders stood slowly, brushing himself off and rubbing the back of his head. “Phyr? You okay? I told you not to try and attack them.” He laughed faintly, poking dubiously at the bush where his friend had flown. “Come on, the scary bunny rabbits are all gone.” He poked a bit further, then let out a noise of pain, pulling his hand out of the bush. ‘Bloody hell, Zephyr.’

It was ridiculously late for anyone to be awake. Even the most notorious criminals would be tucking themselves into bed by now. Daric Lay thought it hopelessly unfair that some unnatural beast was rousing her from bed when her father was down with the chills. Clutching her housecloak around her for protection from the cool night air the visitor had brought in when he opened the door, as well as for protection from the visitor himself, Daric swallowed and set her chin in the image of firmness.

“We,” she tried in her best haughty tones, “are not open.” Then she fixed the visitor with a firm, hopefully imperial stare. He didn’t look very threatening, despite the late hour. His hair was dark and curly, full of leaves, twigs, and, rather oddly, rose petals. His face was round, if muddy and scratched up, and Daric realized he was probably half a dozen years younger than she was. His eyes were wide and deep, soulful brown, vaguely puppyish and pleading. His clothes were torn, coarse, ugly looking things, in greys, blacks, and dark greens. He looked hopelessly exhausted.

“Please, miss,” he murmured, and his voice was slow, halting, with a very odd, foreign sound to it. “Please. I’ve been travelling all night. My horse dumped me on the road when I was approached by some awful deadly looking fellows, and bolted. Robbed me just about blind, left me for dead. Haven’t seen sign of human civilization until now. Please. I have a bit of money left. If I can just spend the night in one of your rooms, I’d be so appreciative, truly.” He blinked at Daric with those big, puppy-brown eyes, and wordlessly pushed forward a handful of small golden coins the size of pebbles. “Please.”

Daric eyed him uncertainly, nibbling doubtfully on a fingernail, before nodding. “Is it only you wanting to stay?”

“That’s right. One.” He smiled, a cute little smile that made his dirty cheeks dimple.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Fine, I’ll show you to an empty room. Come along.”

‘Damn, that was a lucky break, Phyr.’ Anders sighed, carefully setting the bags on the floor, crouching down and slowly opening one. He squinted briefly at a canteen, opened it, and sniffed, before turning to the lumpy thing that passed for a bed. ‘This should help you feel a bit better. I did tell you not to try and hurt the rabbits, remember.’ He knelt by the bed and carefully poured a dollop of salt-water into the canteen’s cap. “Hold still and stop scowling, Phyr. I can see you scowling.”

Phyr stuck his tongue out at Anders and blew a stand of platinum blond hair out of his eyes. One finger came up in an unmistakeably rude gesture.

“People rendered ten centimetres tall because of their own stupidity do not get to swear at those who are kind, generous, and all around wonderful enough to take care of them in their sickness.”

‘Ass,’ one of Phyr’s minuscule hands flew.

“Enough, or I’ll sell you to some barbarian toy story as a new magical doll. Drink up.” Calmly, mouth quirking helplessly at the corners, Anders put the canteen lid to Phyr’s lips so he could drink. “Actually, it could be worse,” he mused as Phyr slurped slowly at water forced upon him. “This is at least kind of cute,” he continued, observing how overwhelmingly huge the canteen cap looked when compared with Phyr’s tiny head. Black eyes glared vehemently at Anders over the edge of the cap. Anders blinked innocently, his free hand fluttering innocently - ‘Enough.’ “Stop fussing, so, Phyr, I’m sure we’ll be somewhere with decent doctors, or whatever the barbarians call them, in a week at least. And please stop doing that with your finger.”