Morning came again, and with it Iris' consciousness. She sat up slowly, every muscle in her body stiff and sore. The fairies were zipping around the room, opening the bed curtains, pulling back the drapes, and lighting the wall sconces. Iris was wearing a new nightgown. A fairy tugged on the cuff of her sleeve, and she followed it numbly as it led her behind the dressing screen to a hot bath. Several other fairies joined it around her ankles, taking the hem and pulling the nightgown up and over her head. She tried to lift her arms to help, but her aching body protested even that simple movement. The fairies managed without her, and then they helped her into the tub, little bursts of warmth lifting her legs over the edge and into the soothing water and fragrance of vanilla. She sank into the water and closed her eyes.

"Thanks." Her voice was raspy, her throat raw from screaming.

One touched her lips lightly, followed in turn by each of the others, and she opened her eyes and managed a small smile. They were lined up along the top of the dressing screen again.

"Guess we're in this together, huh?" she asked. The image of the frightened fairy trapped in the glass jar flashed through her mind, the sheer panic of its movements as it desperately tried to evade that blue spark, the sickening moment when it lost the race and dropped dead to the bottom of the jar.

"I'm sorry about your friend," she whispered, putting her face in her hands. "I couldn't stop him. I couldn't save it."

Sobs shook her shoulders. She sank back in the water, salty tears streaming down her face to mingle with the sweetness of vanilla rising with the steam. The mage told her and Char exactly what he was going to do to her. He told them he was a master of deception and trickery. She never felt the telltale snapping and crackling that accompanied his magic. He pretended to be Jonah, to lull her into a false sense of security. He mimicked Char during his nighttime visit, when he must have cast some sort of spell over her to make her sick and vulnerable the next morning. And then he pretended to be Jonah again, feigning concern, expressing reluctance when she begged him to take her with him. She really had made it easy for him. Permission and trust. Handing herself over on a silver platter to be tortured.

And that was only the start.

The fairies tried to comfort her. They tended to her every need over the next week as the aching gradually eased and the pain faded into memory. She didn't know how long this respite would last. Who would return first, Char, or the mage? She dreaded them both. How was she supposed to act normally in front of Char? She had to, for his sake and that of the fairies'. And when the mage returned, it would be time for another torture session, and she would have to decide if she was giving him permission again. She couldn't trust him. He said it hurt worse without permission and trust. She wasn't sure she believed him, but he had dozens of fairies held hostage, and he was more than willing to snuff them out one by one if she didn't do as he said.

The whispers came back at night. They told her it was time for the crystal to go home, over and over again, but they wouldn't tell her what that meant or how she should do it. Nevertheless, there was something comforting about them being there, like a warm embrace, and she knew they were the key to her surviving whatever was to come next.

It was midday, exactly a week after Char left her, that a knock came to her door.

"Iris?"

Her heart plummeted to her feet. It was him.

"Just a minute," she said, jumping off the sofa and running to the bureau. She was still in a nightgown, because she hadn't bothered getting dressed since Char brought her here. The fairies zipped around her to help her out of the nightgown and into a dress, zooming up the back to secure the fastenings. She took a deep breath and headed for the door, pasting a smile on her face.

"Hello," she said cheerfully.

He looked the same as always. Black shirt and pants, broad shoulders filling the doorway, shaggy black hair, sharp green eyes gazing intently at her.

"Hello," he replied, a smile playing across his lips. He cupped her cheek in his hand, and she flinched.

"S-sorry," she stammered, scrambling for an excuse as his eyes widened slightly and he pulled his hand back. "Your hand is a little cold."

His eyes were searching her face. She swallowed down her nerves and stepped back.

"Come in."

Her nightgown and slippers had vanished, but the fairies remained, sitting around the room on the wall sconces and furniture. Char's eyes roamed across them and came back to her.

"They seem to be taking care of you well enough."

"Yes, they are," she said, nodding. "They're very sweet."

"Good." He looped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. "Would they mind if I do this?" he murmured, his breath tickling her lips.

"Not at all," she replied.

His kiss was warm and chaste, and it drove any doubts out of her mind. She wanted to see him. She wanted to feel his warmth. If that meant she had to lie, so be it. He pressed her head to his chest and stroked her hair, and she shivered.

"What's wrong, Iris?"

"I...I was just thinking about Father John...before you came."

He guided her over to the sofa, pulling her down beside him. His arm wrapped around her shoulder to tuck her into his chest. She nuzzled into him, closing her eyes and forcing herself to hold still as he stroked her hair and caressed her cheek. Those gestures should be comforting, but they were tainted.

"I went to Little Rest," he said quietly.

She swallowed hard. "And?"

"I'm sorry, Iris."

She knew it already, but his confirmation struck her like a blow. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she clutched at his shirt, sobbing into his chest. He held her while she cried, not speaking, just stroking her hair and her back. His touch differed from the mage's somehow, and that made her cry even more. She didn't want him to leave, and she wanted him to go right away, before the mage returned. Before she had to pretend that man was Jonah. She didn't think she could handle seeing him wearing Jonah's skin again.

"I found this," Char said when her tears subsided. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small, worn book. Iris took it with trembling fingers and opened it to the first page. Name, date found, birthdate if known. Line after line of names written in Father John's handwriting. Notes after many names, listing things like spouses, children, occupation, personality quirks.

"These are all the orphans," Iris breathed. Page after page, interrupted occasionally by Bible verses. Char's chin rested on her head and his hand settled on her waist as she leaned back against him, pointing out the names she recognized, telling little stories about them.

Her finger froze on Jonah's name.

"Did something happen with Jonah?" Char asked, reaching his other hand around her waist to wrap her in a secure embrace.

"It's...it's like you said. Things change," she said hesitantly.

"Did he do anything to you?" Char pressed her, his voice dropping lower.

She shook her head quickly. "No, he didn't. He's just...well, he's different." She forced a laugh. "I guess that only makes sense. It has been fourteen years."

Char sighed and nuzzled into her neck. "You're hiding something."

"N-not intentionally," she stammered. "Maybe it's just the magic lessons? He's very strict, but I do need to learn a lot in a short time period, right?"

Char took the book from her hands and set it on the sofa beside him, away from her. He caught her chin and turned her to face him.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you're okay."

"I'm okay, Char," she said, holding his gaze.

His green eyes searched hers, and he frowned. "Has the mage found you?"

"No."

"Then what's wrong?"

She shook her head. "I'm just a little down today, I guess." She reached up to brush his hair back from his face. "I'm sorry. You finally got a chance to visit me, and I'm worrying you. Did everything go okay with Kelnor?"

"Yeah." Char still didn't look convinced, but he broke his stare and leaned back against the sofa. Iris followed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He smiled and leaned in to kiss her. "Rath told him I went to Rina's place, but he didn't know where that was."

"And Kelnor believed that?"

Char chuckled and pulled her onto his lap. "No. He knows I took you, but he has no proof, and he's not interested in getting any, either."

Char's lips met hers, and for just a few minutes, she forgot about her problems. She wasn't lying, and she wasn't a prisoner. She was just here, with Char, exchanging passionate kisses and sweet murmured words. He cradled her in his arms like she was made of glass, his gentle touch sending shivers up and down her spine. When they pulled apart, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest, and he brushed her hair back out of her face, tracing a finger lightly down her cheek.

"Same question."

She opened her eyes to look up at him. "What?"

"What's wrong?"

She stared up at him in confusion. Nothing was wrong. He had just kissed her senseless, he was holding her in his arms, and she couldn't be happier. But his intense green eyes bored into her, bringing awareness and remembrance.

"Nothing," she said lightly, smiling up at him.

He frowned, and then there was a knock at the door. Iris' stomach did a backflip, but she held her smile in place.

"That must be Jonah," she said, climbing off of Char's lap and straightening her dress and hair. "Can you stay for lunch?"

"No," Char said, standing up and pulling her into his arms. "You know you can talk to me, Iris."

"I know that," she said reassuringly. "But there's not much to talk about. It's all magic stuff and lessons, and I'd rather not bore you with the details when we have so little time together."

He sighed. "I can't come too frequently, Iris. It's now or never."

"I'm fine, and it sounds like you need to get going. Just take care of yourself, okay?"

His green eyes searched hers one last time, and he placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Goodbye, Iris."

"Goodbye, Char."

He left her and turned back to the door, just before the next knock.

"Iris?" Jonah's voice called.

Fortunately, Char had his back to Iris, so he didn't see the violent tremor that ran through her body when she heard that voice. She clenched her hands into fists behind her back, digging her fingernails into her palms as she forced a smile back to her face. Char opened the door and walked out without looking back at her. She glimpsed Jonah's face just before the door closed, and her stomach churned. The mage was back, and Char was going to talk to him about his concerns, and fairies were going to die. Iris collapsed on the sofa, putting her face in her hands. She just wasn't good at lying.