Page 21 of Monster's Secret Baby

"You raised my price tag." I toss the ruined brush aside. "Have you even asked yourself why she left? Why she'd just disappear without a word?"

"Because humans are fickle creatures who?—"

"Not her." My voice breaks. "Not Harmony."

Sior's expression softens fractionally—the closest thing to sympathy I've seen from him. "I have contacts searching the northern trade routes. If she's left the city, we'll hear something."

For a moment, I almost believe he cares. Then I remember the night before she vanished, how he'd pushed me toward Lilleth, arranged our meeting in the gardens. "Did you say something to her? Is that why she left?"

His face shutters. "I've never even spoken to your little human."

"She has a name."

"A name that's destroying you." He gestures at the chaos surrounding us. "Look at yourself, Adellum. When was the last time you bathed? Ate? Created anything but these obsessive sketches?"

I turn away, back to the balcony and the city below. In the market district, lanterns bloom like fireflies. Tomorrow I'll search there again. And the docks. The western villages. Everywhere.

"I'm going to find her," I say, more to myself than to Sior.

Behind me, he sighs. "And if she doesn't want to be found?"

The question cuts deeper than he knows. I squeeze the geode again, remembering how Harmony's fingers felt twined with mine. "Then I'll hear it from her lips. Not yours. Not anyone else's. Hers."

When I turn back, Sior is already heading for the door, his wings rigid with frustration. "The Merchant's Guild gala is in three days. You're expected to attend."

"Cancel it."

He pauses, shoulders tense. "Adellum?—"

"Cancel everything."

After he's gone, I unfurl my wings to their full span, feeling the muscles strain after days of keeping them tightly bound. The silver feathers catch the fading light, reminding me of how Harmony used to trace their edges with gentle fingers.

"Where are you, little bird?" I whisper to the empty air. "Why did you fly away from me?"

The city offers no answer, just the endless buzz of streets I'll search again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next—until I find her or there's nothing left of me to search.

I don't remember walkingto the river. Don't remember the paths I took or who might have seen me stumbling through the streets of New Solas with a half-empty wine bottle dangling from my fingers. My wings drag behind me like broken things, silver feathers gathering dirt and leaves.

The water glistens beneath the triple moons, reflecting their light in fractured, dancing patterns. This bend in the river—tucked behind a copse of ancient trees with low-hanging branches that brush the water—it's ours. Was ours.

"Harmony," I whisper, testing her name on my tongue. The wine has dulled everything but the ache.

I sink down onto the flat rock where I first brought her, where nervous laughter turned to sighs turned to her body arching beneath mine. The stone still carries the marks of my magic—scorched handprints from when pleasure overwhelmed my control and power sparked from my fingertips as I held myself above her.

"Is this what you wanted?" I say louder, eyes fixed on the water. "To reduce me to this fucking hollow shell?"

The river doesn't answer. Nothing answers these days.

I drink deeply from the bottle, grimacing at the sour taste. Not the fine amerinth I'm accustomed to—just cheap wine I bought from a street vendor who looked at my disheveled appearance and wild eyes with thinly veiled concern.

Magic crackles along my forearms, sparking between my fingers without conscious thought. The loss of control would frighten me if I could feel anything beyond this void inside my chest.

"I touched you here," I say to the empty air, tracing my fingers along the rock. "You laughed when I said I'd been thinking about you for weeks. Remember? You called me a liar." I smile despite myself. "Said no xaphan would waste thoughts on a human girl."

My wings twitch, sending a cascade of loose feathers into the river.

"You were wrong, you know. I'd wasted months of thoughts on you before I ever worked up the courage to bring you here."

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