“Sionnach,” he said, drawing out the word so it sounded like “shhh knock.” The faery circled Jayce, not looking very human. He leaned in behind Jayce and sniffed him. “If it’s easier, you can call me ‘Shy.’”

“Thanks for the help at the club, Sionnach,” Jayce said levelly.

Jayce either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Sionnach had just sniffed him. Rika had spent enough time with Jayce that she couldn’t say she was completely surprised by how well he’d reacted to everything so far; he was naturally mellow. But Rika didn’t like Sionnach acting more like an animal than a human. He wasn’t even playing at being one of them right now; he could act like a human. She’d seen it, but right now, he was acting like himself. Seeing him around Jayce, being so much the solitary faery, made Rika remind herself that he was all faery; he wasn’t someone she should trust. He was and had always been a faery, one with motivations she’d never wanted to understand—and still didn’t.

She scowled at him, thinking back on his earlier visit, when he had so casually told her that he knew that Jayce was in danger and that he’d done nothing about it.

However, Sionnach was well accustomed to her censure after several decades of their friendship. He merely folded his arms and gave her a wide smile. He sniffed Jayce again.

“Stop it, Sionnach.” Rika stepped between them and took Jayce’s hand. Then, she walked toward the same pallet where she’d been sitting when Sionnach had visited earlier and sat, tugging Jayce down beside her in the process.

Jayce looked a bit amused, no longer seeming as perplexed as when they’d first arrived or as awed as when they were in the tunnel. He leaned back against the wall, stretched his long legs out in front of him, and then looked from her to Sionnach and back again. “You’re both a little unusual.”

“Quite,” Sionnach said, and then he laughed.

Rika knew him well enough to understand that he approved of how Jayce was responding to the situation. A lot of people would be freaking out over her cave home, the fight, the speed at which they’d moved, and Sionnach’s odd behavior. Jayce wasn’t. Still, Rika told Sionnach, “I can’t ask him to stay here.”

“I don’t mind,” Jayce said softly from beside her. “I’d like to spend more time with you.”

Rika glanced at him, but didn’t speak. She couldn’t. The flare of happiness inside of her threatened to make her sound like even more of a fool than she probably already had. By all rights, Jayce should be fleeing. He should be trying to escape her, wondering if she was crazed and dangerous. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask.