“I will be more than happy to take you,” Lux said, but he wasn’t sure that this would all be over. He didn’t know if Lily could ever be truly safe.

Once they started walking again, Lux felt better. Moving quickly through the trees felt like he was actually doing something, although he wasn’t sure how much it would really accomplish. At first, Lily seemed upset. She felt guilty for abandoning her friend, but her mood lightened the longer they walked. He couldn’t be sure, but he had a feeling it had to do with him holding her hand.

They walked most of the morning saying very little. Lux would’ve loved to talk with her, but he was afraid she’d press him for information. The Necrosilvam seemed to stretch on forever, but soon they’d be reaching the edge of it.

A swamp lay just on the other side of the forest, called the Weeping Waters. A mixture of filthy water and thick mud like quicksand, it was filled with sea dragons and flesh eating fish. Unlike land animals, the fish did not listen to anyone, even peccati like Lux.

A log had fallen across their path, and Lux helped Lily over it. His thoughts were on how they would get past the swamp, not on the log, and the rotted wood gave out under Lily’s foot. He caught her just before she fell to the ground, and he held her in his arms for a second before setting her gently on her feet.

“Sorry,” Lily said.

Lux shook his head. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”

“I’m not a complete invalid, you know.” Lily smiled demurely at him. “I can manage walking without a guide.” She amended her statement with a laugh. “Usually.”

Lux laughed and took her hand, preparing to lead her forward, but she stopped short. He heard a mewing sound, similar to a kitten or a frightened rabbit, and Lily had heard it too. He tried to keep going, but she pulled away from him and went back to the log, to the source of the sound.

“Oh my!” Lily gasped, peering into the fragmented wood.

Lux looked over her shoulder and saw what he’d already suspected. A giant furball surrounded by three smaller furballs sat inside the rotted log. They were almost perfectly round and covered in plush, golden fur with small round ears like a squirrel, a tuft of a tail like a rabbit, big sad eyes like a puppy, and a pink nose like a chipmunk. Their feet were hidden entirely under their fluff, pressed close to their chubby bellies.

“Auratus,” Lux sighed.

“It’s a mama and her babies,” Lily said.

The auratus had made a nest in blue moss inside the log, until they’d come along and disrupted it. The mother tried to stand in front of her babies, but they kept running around her, mewing. Lily reached in and scooped up a baby in her hands. The mother barked but didn’t bite or snap at her.

“What are you doing?” Lux asked and watched as Lily sat down on the sturdier part of the log, cradling the baby auratus in her hand.

“Checking to make sure they’re alright.” Lily carefully petted and inspected the baby. “It’s my fault if any of them are hurt.”

“So you just stick your hand in a tree filled with wild animals?” Lux tried to sound exasperated, but watching her coddle the auratus made it hard for him to be.

“You wouldn’t let me do anything to get hurt,” Lily said, then held the baby out to him. “They’re so soft! Feel!” Lux reached out and tentatively petted the top of its head, and its fur did feel like downy silk under his hand.

“They sure are,” he said. They also tasted really good, but he didn’t think that was the kind of information Lily would want to hear. “Are they checking out okay?”

“I think so.” She put that one back in the log and picked up another. This one sat timidly in her hand, not moving around like the first one, and it didn’t seem to be mewing at all. She stroked its back, hoping to illicit some kind of response, but it just sat quietly in her hand. “Oh no. I think something’s wrong with this one.”

Lux wanted to tell her to just put it back, let nature take its course so they could get on their way, but when he saw her face, he couldn’t. She looked utterly destitute thinking she had hurt such a creature. He crouched down in front of her.

“Let me see.”  He held out his hand, and gingerly, she gave it to him.

Lux had no tricks for this. What little power he had had never been used for healing, or good of any kind. He only hoped that he could coax the little guy into feeling better. He pet it gently, and within a few moments, it started rubbing against his hand and purring. And Lux, despite himself, felt happy and relieved, and not just because he knew it would make Lily feel better. He hadn’t wanted to see the auratus suffer.

“How did you do that?” Lily looked awestruck.

“He must’ve been in shock,” Lux smiled, handing it back to her.

“But how do you do the things you do?” Lily stared at him, trying to understand him.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He straightened up, not thrilled by her line of questioning.

“The canu last night, you chased them away.” The auratus ran around her lap, and Lily played with it absently. “Without even touching them.”

“I used a big stick, remember?” Lux shifted uncomfortably and stepped away from her. “Until you made me stop.” He tried to change the subject. “Why did you want me to spare that canu? He was going to kill you.”

“Maybe, but he didn’t.” She shrugged and switched out the auratus on her lap for the last one, to make sure they were all okay.

“But he would’ve.” He said it with more conviction than he really had. The canu could kill her, but he had a feeling that Valefor wanted her brought back alive.

“Maybe. But he’s just an animal.” She inspected the last auratus, and it licked her hand. Satisfied that they were all fine, she turned her full attention on him. “He can’t be held to a moral code. But I can.”

“Well, I didn’t kill him.” Lux didn’t like when she looked at him that way, like she could see through him, and he refused to meet her gaze.

“And I thank you for that,” Lily said, letting the auratus run about her lap. “But that doesn’t explain how you made the rest of the canu leave. Or how come those awful charun bird-goblins never come out when you’re around, or why the trees don’t reach out for you like they do me. Nothing comes out or bothers you.”