He shifted unhappily and then sighed. “Thymara. Did I ruin everything between us?”

She turned to look at him and gave him a genuine smile. “No. Of course you didn’t. You just, well, actually, we just pushed it to a point where we had to talk about what would happen next. It wasn’t bad that we reached that point.”

“But nothing happened next,” Tats grumbled softly and looked away from her.

It made her smile. “Oh, something happened. It just wasn’t what you expected. I said no and I meant it. I still mean it, Tats. But it’s not about you. It’s about me dealing with what I’m becoming, and dealing with it one change at a time.”

He glanced over at her. His lashes were long and thick as they had always been. “Then it isn’t…forever. It’s just a decision for now.”

“Tats,” she began, but she was interrupted when Rapskal flung himself down beside her. She jumped; she still wasn’t accustomed to him being back. A smile spread across her face of her own accord. It was incredibly good to have him back. Tats made a small sound in the back of his throat, but the smile he gave their friend was genuine.

“So, let’s see them!” Rapskal greeted her.

“See what?”

“Your wings, of course! Everyone else has seen them but me. Take them out, I want to see them.”

“Rapskal, they’re not, well, they’re not finished yet.” She couldn’t think of what else to say. She wasn’t sure how to express what she meant to say, and then it came to her. “I’m not ready for people to see them yet.”

He turned his head to one side. Sunlight ran down the scaling along his jaw, and she had to suppress the impulse to trace the same line with her fingers. He gave a confused shrug. “But people already saw them, in the river that day. Even I saw them, if only for a minute as we flew over. So it’s only fair I get to see them now, because everyone else got a chance to see them then.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Please.”

She tried to think if he’d ever said please to her before. If he had, it hadn’t sounded like that. She didn’t answer, but only reached over her shoulder to where the openings were cut in the back of her shirt. She began to grope for the tips of her wings.

“Oh, I’ll help,” he offered, and before she could refuse, she felt his fingers on her wingtips as he gently guided first one and then the other out of her shirt. His gentle touch put a shiver up her back and when she shook, she felt her wings suddenly quiver in response.

“Ohhh,” he said. “Open them. Let me see the pattern.”