The sky was streaked with dark oranges and deep reds, and the sun had dropped behind the trees.  We gathered around the fire, watching the last embers smolder while Margret tinkered with her armor.  There was no sign of Llelwyl yet, and we wondered whether we should build the fire again.  All we could do was wait for now, not that I would be doing much otherwise.

Bushwack landed on Sondra’s shoulder, making the slender wizard sway from the force.  She scowled at me between Sondra’s fingers, and I tried not to meet her gaze.  “How about it, Sond?” she asked.  “Are you sick of him too, now?  Can we leave him for the birds?”

“Actually, he was a big help today,” Sondra replied.  At this size her voice was warm and soothing, and I wished she would talk more.  “Having him around made my work go a lot faster.  I think I’ll keep him around for a while longer.”

“Too bad that’s not your decision to make,” Bushwack said.  “When we get her where she’s going Kiri’s going to take him, and there’s not much you can do about it.”

“My ears are burning,” rumbled from behind me in Kirinhalut’s characteristic purr.  She stood uncomfortably close to Sondra, making me feel boxed in.  Her very presence made me uneasy, especially this near.

“Speak of the devil,” Bushwack exclaimed, and she had no idea how close she was.  “You’re taking the tiny human with you when we part ways, right?”

“Oh, yes, of course I am,” Kirinhalut replied.  Her voice felt like velvet, but I knew ever word she spoke was coated with venom.  “He became quite attached to me while we were trapped there.  I think if he were apart from me for too long, he would just die.”  Not quite, but it’d feel like you were, she added telepathically.

“Good, that’s settled then,” Bushwack said.  “You shouldn’t be getting attached to him in the first place.  He’ll probably get stepped on before then anyway.”

“No he won’t!” Sondra shot back.  “He can take care of himself as long as everyone helps out.”

Really?  You think Lell or I are going to go out of our way for this little thing?”  Bushwack pointed at me before continuing.  “It’s only a matter of time until he ends up under one of our feet, so if you really want him to be okay, you’ll want him to go, too.”

“Maybe if you acknowledged he’s no less human than me and Margret that’d be easier for you,” Sondra replied through gritted teeth.

It looks like I found an angle on her! Kirinhalut said in my mind.  She let loose with her unnerving telepathic laugh before continuing.  Humans are even easier to manipulate than fey folk.  What a stupid, short-lived race.  Particularly this one.  What kind of sad individual forms an emotional bond with someone like you?

Trees on the edge of camp rustled, and everyone turned toward the sound, ready to fight.  Llelwyl emerged from the foliage, covered in twigs and leaves she had stuck in her hair and armor for camouflage.  She shook her makeshift cover loose, then strode to the center of the clearing and crouched by the fire.  Bushwack flew from Sondra’s shoulder and landed between Llelwyl’s feet, and the elf grunted in response.

“What’s the word?” asked the pixie while Llelwyl withdrew two arrow shafts.  “Did you find anything?”

“Yeah, I found them,” Llelwyl confirmed, then addressed the whole camp.  “Gather up, everyone!  We’re going to hit them tonight, so let’s go over the plan.”  The rest of the team, even Kirinhalut, went to watch her etch lines and circles representing the other camp’s structures in the dirt.

Sondra held back a moment, taking time to carefully set me on her shoulder.  “Hold on tight,” she instructed.  “I don’t want you to fall off.”  I latched on to the side of her robe laying just beneath her ear and rolled under the fabric.  The sensation of her walking was pleasant from here, almost like a ride while her shoulders gently bounced with her movement.  When she knelt beside Llelwyl I was glad I had such a tight grip, since the sudden drop lifted me off her shoulder for a moment.  Landing on her hard bones made me wince, though her smooth skin helped ease the pain.

Llelwyl looked at me on Sondra’s shoulder then recoiled, a disgusted expression on her face.  “What is that doing here?” she spat, jabbing an arrow shaft in my direction.

Sondra looked at her and smirked.  “I put him there,” she replied simply.  “Bush gets to ride on your shoulder, so I figured I’d let him ride on mine.”

Llelwyl let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes.  “We can talk about this later,” she said, then turned back to her diagram.  Since I was there, I decided to follow along.  It did not look particularly detailed, just some circles and squares drawn in the dirt, but the elf drawing it oozed function over form.  Several X’s were etched between the circles, and I surmised these were guards and buildings, respectively.  I respected the simplicity, but kept my mouth shut so she would not have another reason to berate me.

“As you can see,” Llelwyl began, tracing a circle around her drawing, “we’d be over our heads in a frontal assault.  That’s why Bush is going to carry one end of our portable doorway here.”  She tapped the edge of a rectangle before continuing.  “There’s only one guard there, and once the doorway’s activated we can pour through, overwhelm her, and take the safe.  If other guards start showing up, Sondra can lay down a fireball while Margret holds them still.  All told, this should take about three minutes, then we can get some rest.  Any questions?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one,” Sondra piped up, and everyone turned to look at her.  “Why’s Bush carrying it?”

“Because she’s six inches tall and can fly,” Llelwyl answered curtly.  “Any other questions?”

“I can make someone who’s one inch tall fly,” Sondra insisted.  “He’d be harder to see and more likely to reach the drop point.  Why doesn’t he carry the doorway tonight?”

“Because I don’t want our valuable magic item to be part of an owl pellet.”  Llelwyl was refusing to budge on her plan.  “Bush is flying it in, and stop trying to find something for that bug of a man to do.”

“If I may interject,” Kirinhalut broke in.  “He doesn’t need magic to fly.”  The women turned to face her, so she elaborated, “It’s about thirty meters from the fence to where you want the drop, right?  You can tie him to an arrow and fire it in!  That way there’s no chance of interception, and it’ll get there in a few seconds.  If whatever this doorway is doesn’t open after a minute or two, Bush can go finish the job herself.

“I hadn’t considered it like that before,” Llelwyl replied.  “It’s risky, but there’s no chance of detection, and it would make this raid even shorter.”

“Plus, he’s more expendable than I am,” Bushwack chimed in.  “If his only skill is to be launched as a projectile so no one will see him, I say we do it.”

“Are you out of your minds?” Sondra exclaimed.  “What if he gets hurt on impact, or killed?”

“Then Bush will finish the mission,” Llelwyl answered.  “Look, Sond, you know we don’t vote on plans, and even if we did this one would win.  He’s going to wear one side of the portable doorway as a backpack and I’m going to fire him into the middle of their camp, and that’s final.”  The wizard pouted, but there was little else she could do.

“Now that we have a plan, let’s get moving,” Llelwyl continued.  “By the time we get there it’ll be dark, so we should go unnoticed until the doorway opens.”  The party stood, and I clung tightly to Sondra’s robe.  She pitched forward when she unfolded her legs, and I toppled from atop her shoulder.  I slightly swung like a pendulum as she rose, and I gripped the threads so hard my knuckles turned white.

Kirinhalut blocked Sondra’s path, her green dress forming an indomitable barrier in front of me.  “I think I should hold on to the little guy now for safe-keeping,” she said.  “He feels safer with me after all we’ve been through together.”  Before Sondra could object, Kirinhalut’s hand was already around me, prying me away from the robe.  I wanted to cry out, but Kirinhalut’s influence held my jaw shut.  She tore my fingers away from the threads easily, and her fist closed around my body.

The party set off to the rally point, me firmly clutched in Kirinhalut’s hand.  The usual sensations of her movement were overridden by the tip of her middle finger pressing me into her palm with enough force that it was the only thing I could think of.  Struggling was useless, I had learned, so I laid there partially curved around her finger.  She had stopped just short of crushing me to avoid preventing a flat shrunken human when the time came, and I knew she needed to maintain the fabrication as much as I did.

Risky operation tonight.  Unfortunately, short of a full lobotomy I would not be able to keep her voice out of my head.  But you’re no stranger to risk, are you?  You like to roll the dice, and I appreciate people inviting more chaos into their lives.  It makes my job easier.

 Stop polluting my brain with your ramblings and get to the point, I thought back at her.

Did a single day undo all your conditioning?  She might be more powerful than I thought, Kirinhalut mused.  To my point, though.  Have you ever been the die rolled?  I doubt it.  It can be quite an experience, though.

Demanding an explanation would only agitate her, and she could never hold off on whatever torment she thought up for me very long.  Her finger curled off me, allowing me to roll into her palm’s basin, then her other hand clamped over the opening.  Though I was less constrained than before, I was far from free, and I doubted freedom of movement would be a comfort in the near future.

Kirinhalut’s hands lurched upward, and it felt like my stomach dropped to the ground.  They suddenly halted, launching me off her palm and slamming me into the ceiling of her other palm.  Before I could acclimate, her hands surged down again, throwing my stomach through me and into the sky.  They suddenly stopped again, and I plummeted back to her waiting palm.  The soft flesh there cushioned my fall, but my landing was still a shock.

She kept moving her hands, rapidly bouncing me between her palms.  I quickly lost track of which way I was going, and even which direction was up.  The only thing I knew was constant movement from one hand to the other, tumbling between contacts.  I hit the centers of her palms, the sides, and everything in between.  As I ricocheted through the fleshy chamber I tried to grab onto something, but even the deepest folds of her palms were not enough to stop me from careening freely throughout the prison.

When the punishment finally stopped, I settled into the middle of Kirinhalut’s hand again.  My face rested against the soft skin of her palm, so I did not even realize when she opened her hands.  Fingers pinched on my cloak, then lifted me away from where I rested.  A sudden jerk flipped me around, and I was facing the gray eyes of Llelwyl’s starlit face.

“You know the plan, right?” she asked.  I nodded, and she continued.  “Good.  We’ll give you three minutes after I fire to get the doorway working, then we’ll presume you were killed on impact and Bush will have to do it.  Got it?”  I nodded again, and she moved me toward a wooden arrow shaft.  “If there’s anything you don’t get, now’s the time.”

“Yeah, one thing,” I said.  Even though she had prompted me, Llelwyl seemed annoyed.  “How do I activate this doorway?”

She explained I need to hold both sides of it on flat ground and say the command word, and that should be enough.  Luckily I had no further questions since she did not take any, and resumed moving me toward the arrow.  Bushwack was waiting with her side of the doorway laid against the shaft, and Llelwyl laid me against it.  The elf secured me with her thumb before letting go of my cloak, making sure I would not slide off by pushing me into the wood.

Bushwack shoved a splinter of metal into my hand, then wedged a length of string between me and Llelwyl’s thumb.  She flew circles around the arrow shaft, wrapping my entire chest to make sure I would not fall off.  When they were satisfied with the amount of coverage, Bushwack sliced the string with her dagger and tied the loose end in a knot.

Llelwyl notched the arrow, and I noticed my feet were toward the arrowhead at least.  The bow’s wood and sinew creaked when she drew it back, and it felt like my fear ratcheted up with every minor groan.  When it was at full draw she adjusted her aim, trying to get me to land as close as possible to the drop point.  Her fingers released on the string, rocketing me forward hard enough for me to momentarily black out.