“Oh!” Julia paused, surprise evident on her face, as they walked into Lain’s apartment.

  Lain knew there were few places in Lowrun that could truly be called “nice,” but her loft came damn close. It was located in a towering tenement building–the ground floor held a small kitchen that served the local workers, and an endless variety of cooking smells eternally wafted up to Lain’s home, covering the smell of rubbish and unwashed bodies that defined most of Lowrun.

  The second through fifth floors were housing, with eleven families living between the four floors. By Lowrun standards, that was positively spacious, and a double-thick floor further insulated Lain’s apartment from the sounds of those below.

  The apartment itself took up the final two floors of the unit. Furniture was scarce, as it required well-paid and gifted laborers to lug anything of significant size up this high, but Lain had afforded herself a few small luxuries–a small iron stove, imbued with fire magic and fit for both cooking and heating; a solid, square chillbox that held a couple bottles of her favorite spirits; an everfull bucket that used water-aspected magic to eternally refill itself with fresh water.

  A soft carpet and a scattering of loose, plush cushions defined the center of the room, with a couple light wooden-framed chairs as the only solid pieces of furniture. Half the room was divided vertically by a lofted floor, ten feet above the entryway. Anyone who entered the apartment came in under the loft, and Lain’s bedding was atop it, a large pile of cushions and blankets that she had brought up one by one over months forming a nest that filled in for a heavy and unwieldy mattress or palette.

  But none of those things drew Jewel’s eye like the centerpiece of the unit. Opposite the door, the wall was taken up by a massive window, sheets of glass suspended in broad arcs by delicate wrought-iron. The window spanned nearly from the floor to the ceiling, making it a few times Lain’s own height, and it faced the harbor, most of a mile away. Far enough to reduce the squalid truth of the place to something abstract, and even pretty to look at.

  Though Lain had a few glowstone torches hung up about the place, she hadn’t activated any of them, and the apartment was lit only by the vague light of the stars and moon above, and the reflected light of the city below.

  “It's beautiful," Jewel said, taking a few steps towards the window, her eyes fixed on it.

  Lain watched the mysterious girl’s movements–the practiced grace that belied every step, the way her long hair and round hips swayed in time with each other, the quiet awe that filled her voice. She was like some foreign creature, diaphanous and innocent and utterly at odds with everything that defined Lowrun.

  “It is, at that,” Lain found herself replying, her eyes fixed on Jewel, rather than the view.

  Jewel turned at the reply, a surprised smile lighting up her face, and Lain forced herself to turn away, to shut the heavy door to the apartment instead of staring at her guest, to turn the lock and throw the bar rather than put her hands on-

  “I need to thank you,” Jewel said.

  Lain jumped a little. The voice was much closer than she had expected it to be, and when she turned, she found Jewel well within her personal space, mere inches separating them. The taller girl’s beautiful amber eyes, somehow bright even in the dim apartment, met Lain’s, and she found herself abruptly short of breath.

  What was happening? She’d never felt like this around someone before, certainly not so quickly as this, either. She almost suspected that her emotions or mind were being tampered with–she hadn’t heard of abilities capable of doing something like that, but they certainly weren’t outside the realm of possibility, not where gifts were concerned.

  Lain swallowed, and admitted to herself that she was pretty sure that wasn’t the case. Even if she had never seen a gift capable of stirring up her interest like this, she had encountered other psychic abilities before–gifts capable of causing fear were common enough in Lowrun, for example–and she knew what such an ability felt like, the sense of invasiveness that came with a foreign presence in her carefully controlled mind.

  No, this was something else. There was just a sense of connection here, a kind of instant attraction that the seasoned, cynical thief had never felt before.

  Jewel took another step closer–any more and Lain would be able to feel the girl’s breath on her face. “You’ve been so much kinder than I had any right to expect,” Jewel said, her voice tight, breathless with exhilaration–or perhaps anxiety? “I need to thank you somehow…”

  The look in her eyes was simple, direct, heated–but there was something more there too. Insecurity. Confusion. Anxiety.

  Lain swallowed, and when she spoke, her voice came out rougher than she intended. “You hired me,” Lain reminded her. “You thank me by paying me.”

  Jewel swallowed, the motion drawing Lain’s eyes, briefly, to the delicate curve of her neck. “Perhaps I want to thank you in another way?”

  Lain couldn’t help a small huff of amusement–and suddenly, she felt like her brain started working again, guilt a more effective antidote to her lust than anything else. “That much is clear,” she said. “But it’s not happening.”

  Jewel blinked, and she took a small step back, her surprise giving Lain some Rogue-blessed breathing room. “I-it’s not?” The direct willingness in Jewel’s voice was gone now too, and the girl suddenly seemed so much younger, a fragile hurt obvious on her face.

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  “No,” Lain said. “For one, you’ve been drinking-”

  “No I haven’t!” Jewel insisted. “I… I was too nervous."

  “Which brings me to point two–you’re vulnerable. You made a very large, and possibly very stupid, decision tonight. Now I’m the one helping you navigate the consequences of that choice. It’s only natural you’d cling to me…”

  Lain trailed off a moment, finding herself entirely too distracted by the thought of Jewel clinging to her. But she shook her head and continued, “I’m not going to pretend I’m not into you, Jewel. But right now… It’s not the time for something like that. Not until you get your feet on the ground. Okay?”

  Jewel blinked a few times, and spots of color appeared on her cheeks. “O-oh. Uhm. Yes, I guess… You’re right.”

  Lain cocked a grin at Jewel. “I know I am.”

  This time it was Jewel that looked away, suddenly blushing furtively. “Okay,” she squeaked.

  Lain arched a brow, then shrugged, walking further into her home, not bothering with a light. After a lifetime of skulking in the shadows, she often felt more comfortable in them than in brighter lighting.

  After an awkward pause, Jewel hurried after her, stumbling here and there in the darkness. Just because Lain was more comfortable in the dark, that didn’t mean her guest was, too.

  Oh well. It was way too late to bother with lights.

  Lain dipped a couple clay mugs into the bucket of fresh, cool water and offered one to Jewel as she approached.

  Jewel took a sip, then looked around the apartment. “This place,” she observed, “is a lot nicer than I expected from…”

  “A thief?”

  “Lowrun.”

  Lain parted her lips with silent understanding. “I’m a woman of simple needs,” she explained. “But having a comfortable home is one of them.”

  Rogue knew she had spent enough time without such a luxury.

  “That makes sense,” Jewel said. She looked around the room, lingering on the rug and chairs facing the broad window. “So… I guess I’ll sleep down here?”

  Lain shrugged. “If that’s what you want.” As she spoke, she put down her mug, instead reaching for the buttons of her jacket, nimbly moving to shed the outer garment. “It’s a lot more comfortable upstairs, though.”

  Jewel swallowed, without even taking a drink. “Uhm. If you’re sure….”

  Lain rolled her eyes. “It’s just sharing a bed,” she said. “Maybe it’s different up in Highwalk, but it’s common enough downhill.” Lain arched an eyebrow at the girl. “Unless you’re gonna make it weird?”

  “N-no, I can… That sounds nice.”

  “Good.” Lain nodded, and then shrugged out of her coat, simply dropping the heavy garment.

  Lain’s heart abruptly raced as Jewel made a sharp sound and moved quickly. She tensed and reached for her quintessence to defend herself–then she relaxed when she realized the girl had just hurriedly turned around.

  “What’s wrong?” Lain asked.

  Jewel flailed one hand about. “Y-you just took off your shirt!”

  “No,” Lain said, “I took off my coat.” She looked down at herself. Under her jacket was her usual shirt. It was simple, soft cotton dyed black. It hugged her body and left her shoulders and arms bare. Admittedly, a little sweat had further plastered it to the slight curves of her chest, but still, there was no reason for such a dramatic reaction. “Were you planning on sleeping in your cloak?”

  Jewel stammered through a half-dozen aborted replies before she managed to squeak. “N-no…”

  “Okay, good.” Lain paused, and Jewel stayed in place, furtively rubbing at the bottom of her dress, over her thighs.

  She let the moment hang for a beat.

  Then a second.

  “Well?” Lain finally asked. “Are you going to stand there all night, or are we going to go to bed?”

  Jewel squeaked again, and then her cloak finally joined Lain’s coat on the floor.

  “Fantastic.” Idly, Lain reached for the hem of her breeches, as she was used to sleeping in nothing but her smallclothes–or less–but she decided against it. It seemed like if she took anything else off, Jewel might actually combust.

  What is a girl like this doing in Lowrun? Lain wondered, for neither the first nor the last time that night. She thought again of Jewel’s brief flash of iron-hard resolve, her confident claim of searching for freedom.

  “Come on,” Lain said, turning to the stairs.

  #

  An hour or so later, Lain awoke from the light doze that was more natural to her than any deep slumber.

  It took her a moment to place the sound that had woken her up, until she heard it again. A soft, muffled noise that was nonetheless unmistakable.

  Lain wiggled through the soft sprawl of her bed nest. She placed a hand against Jewel’s shoulders, and felt another sob tremble through the girl.

  The thief approached a little closer, until her compact, leanly muscled frame was pressed against the slender, shivering body of her guest. She reached out an arm, and Jewel seemed to lift her head without even thinking about it, resting her head against the crook of Lain’s elbow, using her arm as a pillow.

  The scent of the runaway girl–rosewater and salt air and something subtly floral–filled Lain’s nose as she pulled Jewel closer.

  “Shhh,” Lain said, whispering the meaningless nothings she had always wished someone would’ve said to her on her bad nights. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe here. Everything is okay.”

  Jewel trembled, the motion almost violent, and Lain moved her other hand along the curve of the girl’s side, even lifting a leg to wrap it around Jewel’s own legs, holding her tight and close.

  “Shhh, don’t worry,” Lain told her softly.

  Jewel kept crying, Lain kept holding her, and at some point, they sunk as one into the lassitude of sleep.