Emmy in Action ch.5 (Patreon)

Author's Notes: Had this almost halfway done before the laptop got smashed, so finishing it was priority number one. And, here we are! More stuff on its way soon!

[story] [implied seks]

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‭Emeera blinked, resisting the urge to do a double-take as she feasted her eyes on the strange woman she’d “met” in Lakeheart so long ago. Orchid was just as Emmy remembered her -- just over six feet in height, leanly muscled, reddish-tan skin, and a mane of luxurious black hair, though now it appeared to sport more of a natural wave than it had before. Dark, intense eyes, pointed ears, and feral, angular features gave her a predatory look, though not one that was being focused on Emmy now; rather, Orchid looked at her with a playful smirk, as if seeing an old friend for the first time in years. Her outfit had seen some minor changes, too, swapping the corset and trousers for a black sarong and deep violet twist halter, still exhibiting her beauty while blending in a bit more seamlessly with the region’s fashion. Short, soft boots and a pair of short blades crossed at her lower back, though, made it evident to any beyond the most casual observer that this woman was not someone to be trifled with.

“In the flesh,” the hobgoblin said, flashing a wider grin that showed off a hint of her sharpened canine teeth. “I knew you left Lakeheart, had no idea you’d made your way all the way to Ai Fenitra.”

“Well -- I mean -- yeah -- a lot has happened! There was the caravan, and an ogre, and a dungeon, and--” Emmy stumbled over her words, her hyperactive mind wondering where she even wanted to start. Before she could decide, a distraction made her decision for her: the voice of Zani, who she’d ordered a sandwich from mere moments ago.

“Your meals, lovely ladies,” Zani beamed, slinging out two small boxes made of thick paper and matching cups, to be eventually disposed of in one of the city’s burning waste-pits. Vath-Raya grabbed the two boxes with a taciturn nod, looking back to Emmy with an expression of weary patience, one that suggested she was willing to endure this impromptu social call as long as it didn’t take too long.

“Come, sit with me,” Orchid nodded to the two, gesturing to one of the many shaded wooden tables that littered Ai Fenitra’s outdoor food scene. “We can catch up once we’ve found a bench, yes?”

It only took a few moments for the trio to find a suitable place to sit, and the two travelers wasted little time in taking the first few bites of the sandwiches they’d ordered -- the chégara, according to Zani -- which ended up being as tasty as could be hoped for. While Vath-Raya did her best to disguise her pleasure, Emeera had no such dour disposition and found herself gushing over the rich, exotic flavors, every spice a new sensation on her tongue, and a deeply welcome one. As the two ate, Orchid sat with a smug smirk, arms folded across her lush chest as she watched them, waiting for the moment when the two could catch up and she could formally meet this strange githyanki.

“So,” the hobgoblin finally said as Emmy crammed the last mouthful of her sandwich down the hatch, washing it down with the refreshingly icy orange blossom water. “Last I heard you were headed north with the caravan, had quite a little thing going.”

“I was-- erm, I did,” Emmy chuckled awkwardly, then sighed, finally taking a moment to relax now that her belly was full. She took her time explaining what had happened, the adventures she’d found herself a part of, and how she’d eventually made her way back to the Edisseion when the adventuring life failed to offer her any real new options. “...And that brings me here,” she finally concluded, “on a suuuper secret mission with Vath-Raya--”

“One we aren’t in a position to discuss,” the wizard interrupted, and Emmy frowned.

“Right, yeah, sorry. Anyway, yeah -- this is Raya! Raya, this is Orchid.”

“Pleasure,” Orchid purred.

Vath-Raya’s reply was a stare and a grunt, slouching on her own side of the bench.

“She’s not super chatty, sorry.” Emmy flushed.

“I can tell,” Orchid shot back. “Cute, though.” Vath-Raya shot a brief glare the hobgoblin’s way, but remained silent, returning to her drink.

“So, what brings you this way?” the monk asked innocently.

“Well, dearheart, I have my own secrets to keep,” Orchid offered a dry chuckle, “But if it helps, Ai Fenitra certainly wasn’t my destination. I have someone I need to talk to on the Vagabond Isles, and without ships going in and out, it looks like I’m stuck here until whatever this smuggling crisis is clears up.”

“We’re trying to get off Korrym too,” Emmy frowned, “Oh! Maybe we could team up!”

“We don’t have time to dally with hangers-on, monk,” Vath-Raya growled under her breath, only to be quickly parried by the hobgoblin.

“Actually, I’ve been doing some research into the situation,” Orchid offered a little nod, planting her elbows on the table and leaning in. “Lotta whispers in the underworld, honest crooks who want to ply their trade, and can’t -- even the low-lives are looking for whoever’s responsible for the smuggling.” She paused, considering how much information to give away, then continuing. “I know a guy operating out of Blacksands who has a lead. Maybe we ask him some questions, see if we can take care of this problem with a couple well-placed... disruptions.”

“I like well-placed,” Vath-Raya narrowed her eyes.

“And I like disruption!” Emmy beamed, “Lead the way!”

“Hold on,” the githyanki’s stern gaze fixed on Emeera, “I never agreed to this fool’s errand.”

The human blinked, then touched a fingertip to her lips, thinking for a moment. “...Do you... wanna go on this fool’s errand...?”

The wizard’s expression, if possible, flattened. “Fine.”

“Off to Blacksands, then,” Orchid said, sitting up from her bench and stretching. “I’ll warn you, Kozgo probably won’t be tooexcited to see me, but I’m sure he’ll be reasonable enough when he realizes we’re on his side.”

Blacksands, it would soon be revealed, was Ai Fenitra’s underbelly -- a shady area just south of the docks, where tradewinds carried the smell of low tide through gloomy, tight-knit alleyways. The buildings were older here, many rotted through from the sea air; a district long-abandoned by the city’s infrastructure. Of course, with the sparse guard patrols and general neglect from Princess Vepah’s administration, Blacksands had become a thriving hub of crime.

Orchid, despite not being native to the city, flowed from place to place like she was born here, particularly once the tentative trio reached Blacksands. It was as if, in some way, all seedy underbellies were the same, and she was just as comfortable in an alleyway here as one in Lakeheart. Watchful eyes peered out from scorched or salt-rotted structures, and as they grew deeper, Ai Fenitra’s less “savory” inhabitants grew more bold, even setting up outdoor stalls in a crude mockery of the city’s brightly-lit bazaars. A one-eyed kenku hawked potions and poisons, a pair of kobold egg-mates sold devilishly-built traps, and there was even a heavily cloaked male drow selling deadly keepsakes from the Underdark.

“How lovely; I’m so glad we decided to come,” Vath-Raya muttered under her breath.

“Come on,” Emmy smirked back, jabbing the wizard gently with her elbow, “you gotta admit it’s kinda exciting, right?”

“We’re almost there, don’t worry,” Orchid chimed in, offering a quick nod to a goblin skulking on a windowsill, then turning a corner and leading the pair to a lean, crooked building, three stories, no windows, and peeling white paint. The door was held in place only by its lock and a single hinge, and Orchid was certain to knock gently.

It was several long moments before the lock clicked and a bar was slid away, revealing the structure’s interior, a bit nicer on the inside than the outside. Hanging oil lamps lit the place dimly, and hunched shadows skittered from corner to corner, keeping close watch on these strange new arrivals. After a moment, a flat-faced goblin with a limp, short-billed hat and too long a ragged tailcoat came limping down the stairs, scanning over the three before focusing on Orchid.

“Lotta nerve you ‘ave, showin’ your face ‘round ‘ere,” the man snarled, beady red eyes narrowing to slits.

“I’m not here for a battle of tongues, Hegc,” Orchid sighed, “I fear you’d bring far too dull a weapon to satisfy me. I need to talk to Kozgo.”

“Kozgo ain’t ‘ere,” the goblin spat.

“You know as well as I do that Kozgo wouldn’t set foot outside Harridan House if it was on fire, so unless he’s dead, take me to him.”

A moment of silent, hateful staring passed before the goblin relented with a snarl of frustration, turning and wordlessly making his way back up the stairs. Orchid turned, nodding to the other two, and followed suit.

The second floor seemed much more busy than the first, populated by many of Ai Fenitra’s less desirable species, specifically goblinoids. They chattered and squabbled amongst themselves, counted gold, and took inventory of various sundries, whether bought or stolen was hard to tell in a place like this. The second floor, though, was not their destination, and Hegc continued to lead them upwards, to another rickety door, then finally through that.

The top floor of Harridan House was a mess. To Emeera, having grown up in a place where tidiness and order were the paramounts of living, it was almost shocking -- this was the domain of a shut-in and a packrat, heaps of dust-covered baubles and trinkets cluttering every inch of space. Narrow walkways between tables, drawers, or even just piles of junk could permit one to get from place to place, but even then, one needed to be cautious not to bump into the stockpiles of useless trash.

Amidst all this stuff was a semblance of both a living quarters and an office -- more keepsakes spilled over the sides of an oversized bed, unwashed dishes lay wherever they were placed, and a massive desk and high-backed chair housed the man they’d come to see. Kozgo was nearly seven feet in height, covered in a layer of matted, steel-gray fur, with pointed ears and a flat, hound-like face. A battered black tunic, wine-colored capelet, and tarnished brass chain clasp hinted at an attempt at officiousness, but the shaggy-maned bugbear was visibly long past the peak of his influence.

The hunched beast squints, not standing from his desk, then finally realizes who he’s looking at. “Ah. Ixxa. Surprised to see you here, after stealing from your own kind.” Kozgo’s voice was like a boulder being dragged across a bigger, harder boulder, rough and incredibly deep, though he wore little accent.

“A job’s a job, Kozgo; you know that. And it’s Orchid, we have company.”

“Indeed we do,” the bugbear’s eyes flicked to Emmy and Vath-Raya, sizing them up, “I hope you know the kind of scoundrel you associate with. Very well, Orchid, what is it you want so badly as to risk my... displeasure.”

“I want what all of us want,” Orchid folded her arms across her chest, one hip popped cutely sideways. “I want a lift on this embargo. I want off of Korrym. And I know you know something -- give us the information you have, and let us take care of this problem.”

“Presumptive, as always,” Kozgo grunted, then paused, “but right, as usual. The smuggling isn’t coming from Blacksands or any of the other criminal bodies in Ai Fenitra. The reason the city guards haven’t been able to quell the problem is because it’s the city guards doing the smuggling.”

“What?!” Emmy burst out. “But... that’s... they can’t do that! They’re guards! Guarding is their whole... like... thing. This is the exact opposite of what their thing is supposed to be--” The monk found herself silenced by Raya’s hand being gently placed on her shoulder, interrupting and somewhat soothing her.

“You’ll find many who do not take their responsibilities are seriously as you do,” the githyanki said gravely; a rare compliment, if a subtle one. “Darkness lurks in all our hearts. For some less resistibly than others.”

Emmy frowned, chewing her lip, then focused her attention back on the hulking silver bugbear in front of them.

“...Are you done?” Kozgo snorted.

“Yeah.”

“Lovely. Now--” Kozgo’s beady gaze recentered on Orchid, “--I can’t say exactly who’s involved or how to get to the bottom of it, if indeed that’s your goal. Base of operation will be somewhere near the docks, so the northeast and southeast watchtowers are your best bets, I’d say.”

“Raya, do you have any spells or anything that could help? Can you like... scry on them or whatever?” Emmy asked quickly.

The wizard grunted. “I was trained for battle, fire, and death. I am not a diviner, nor a detective. I do not...” disgust laced Vath-Raya’s words -- more than the usual amount, anyway, “...scry.”

“Good, old-fashioned skullduggery, then,” Orchid grinned widely, showing off a little more of her pronounced canines than she usually allowed. “Alright, we’ll take a look. And Kozgo -- if I take care of this, we’re even, alright? The animosity’s wiped clean.”

“Likely won’t be alive long enough for it to matter,” the old brute nodded, “but sure. Fair seas, hobgoblin.”

“Fair travels, bogge.” Turning, Orchid nodded to Emmy and Raya, and carefully tip-toed her way out of the cluttered room, leading the pair back down the two flights of rickety stairs, and finally, out of Harridan House and back to the quiet, watchful alleys of Blacksands. “That went a lot better than it could have.”

“Yeah,” Emmy frowned slightly, “but what do we do now? There are tons of guards, how are we expected to go straight to one of their watchtowers and uncover a smuggling ring?”

“Drop a fireball from up high, watch them scatter, see what comes out of the chaos,” Raya offered, her grave expression implying that she was most definitely not kidding. “Like pouring boiling water on an anthill.”

“Is fireball your solution to everything?”

“Not everything,” the githyanki balked, “just most things.”

“I... don’t feel like that’s the best idea,” Emmy winced.

“Your fragile conscience does not mean it would be ineffective.”

“No,” Orchid spoke up, “the fact that you’d be fireballing a city would make it ineffective. Suddenly smuggling would be the least of everyone’s problems.”

“And I suppose you have a preferable alternative?” the wizard arched a thin brow.

“Well, there’s always seduction, of course,” the hobgoblin took her first clean breath of air in a few hours as the three finally made their way out of the fetid labyrinth of Blacksands, out into the proper city streets. “You’d be amazed at the things people will tell you once they’ve gotten you into their bed. Especially simpletons like city guards,” she smirked.

“I don’t exactly want to do that either,” Emeera looked uneasy, “and I’m sure it’s a no-go for Raya.”

“Your insight, truly, is dizzying,” the wizard grunted.

“You should see my punches!”

“No, I wasn’t--” Vath-Raya sighed, and quickly gave up.

“We could split up, I suppose,” Orchid shrugged. “I take the north tower, you take the south tower and ask questions your own way. Meet up somewhere after a certain time.”

“Meet where? We don’t really know the city that well,” the human asked.

“I have a room at an inn not far from here. It’s getting late, anyway -- if you’d like, we can grab some food and then stay the night, get to business in the morning.”

“That is...” Vath-Raya looked up at the sky. It was darkening, if not as much as she’d prefer if they were going to call an end to the day. Walking to, and subsequently successfully navigating Blacksands, had been a far longer endeavor than she’d enjoyed... and she was hungry. “...Acceptable, I suppose. We’ll work better once we’re better oriented in Ai Fenitra, anyway.”

“Woo!” Emeera cheered, “What’s the inn like? Is it nice? Oh, where should we go eat? Do you have any favorite places? Oh, we could go back to see Zani if we wanted to -- I wonder if the grill is still open now that it’s getting dark, though? I wouldn’t mind more of those little sandwiches -- though I’m sure there’s still so much stuff here that I haven’t tried, and--”

Orchid deftly interjected, “The inn is nice, it’s called the Quivering Kettle. I do have a few favorite places, there’s a tavern closeby that serves a magnificent garlic pheasant dish. Outdoor grills usually close up around this time, so it’s unlikely Zani’s still available to talk to – lovely man though, and an impressive lover for his age. Not the most remarkable manhood, but he’s a great deal more skillful with it than he has any right to be.” Shrugging, the hobgoblin gave Emeera a brief opportunity to digest her answers, then continued, “You two have money, right?”

“She has uncut gemstones,” the gith sighed.

“That really was not what I was thinking. But that can be dealt with. I know a lad who knows a lass who knows this minotaur who knows a gemcutter; I can give you a good exchange for them, if you like.”

“Likely the best offer you’ll get, monk,” Vath-Raya clucked her tongue.

“Works for me! Here--” Emeera dug into her small pack, digging out her pouch of gems and handing them over, putting far too much trust into the obviously untrustworthy hobgoblin. Offering a fanged grin in return, Orchid took the pouch, weighed it in her palm, and took a quick glance inside, before reaching into a belt-pouch of her own. After a moment, she withdrew a handful of golden coins, handing them casually over to the innocent human.

“Consider these an advance, dearheart,” the statuesque goblinoid purred, “I’ll get you the rest before you leave Ai Fenitra, once my contact and I have had an opportunity to chat.”

“Works for me,” Emmy flashed a small smile, checking the coins she’d been given. Ten coins all in all, certainly not the worth of the gems, but enough to hold her over until the real payday came. “Alright, you ready to check out that tavern?”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Orchid’s recommendation, they would soon find out, was a rewarding one – the tavern was called The Drake’s Egg, and the dish that had been mentioned lived up the pedestal it had been placed on. It consisted of an assortment of pheasant parts, a bit darker and more gamey than the chickens Emeera was more accustomed to, braised in an aromatic garlic broth that, with the addition of flour and butter, been thickened into something of a glistening, pale brown gravy. It was served alongside artichoke petals and a sort of strange fig salad, the latter of which Emmy quite enjoyed, but Raya found utterly repulsive, spitting out after a single bite and saying it tasted like “fomorian vomit.” How she was familiar with that taste, and what exactly a fomorian was, Emeera neither knew nor had any intention of asking.

The Quivering Kettle was a far larger and more elegant structure, and, as Orchid had mentioned, was not terribly far from where the trio had taken dinner. It had three stories and a recent coat of cerulean paint, layers of shady cloth tents and banners protecting its shingled roof from the worst of the sun’s brutality. Within, hardwood floors were covered with thin, simply-designed rugs, and a marriage of sorcery and gravity had threaded the common area with narrow, ever-flowing streams of water, cooling the interior while also adding their soft, pleasant babble to the tunes of the inn’s hired musicians.

“Two rooms, then? I assume you two are…” Orchid arched a brow playfully, “...entangled?”

“You assume wrong,” the githyanki glared, “and manage to do so twice in a single thought. We’ll get one room, that I may protect it from any pests that may choose to try my patience.”

“If your patience is as thin as your lips, I’m certain they--” Orchid began to grumble under her breath, but regained her composure before the wizard could catch on. Emeera, alone, heard the gripe, and had to stifle a giggle – to think that even calm, unfettered Orchid could get frustrated by Vath-Raya! It was both validating and oddly funny. “One room it is. I have one reserved, and I can always have another bed dragged up for a few coins and a wink in the right direction.”

“That will do,” Vath-Raya nodded. “I can sleep on the floor, if need be.”

“Oh, don’t be absurd,” Orchid flashed that wicked grin again, sliding close behind Emeera and placing one hand lightly on the human’s narrow hip, drawing a quiet squeak of surprise. “Emmy and I can share my bed. It’s not like it would be the closest we’ve been.” The last sentence dripped with suggestion, earning a momentary arched brow from the wizard. Orchid was playing some sort of game – Raya had the impression she was oftenplaying games – but exactly what game, or why, eluded her. It was almost as if the hobgoblin was attempting to make her somehow jealous.

The strangest thing was that, in a strange way, it was working. A pang of annoyance twisted the gith’s lips into something between a frown and a scowl, but quickly flickered away – what reason did she have to be aggravated? She certainly didn’t value Emeera beyond the meager utility the monk provided to the mission, and even then, she was often too flamboyant to be sufferable in even thatcontext. Why, then, this hot wash of disgust?

She shook the thought from her mind before she could dwell on it further, unwilling to reach a conclusion she might not enjoy. “That will do,” she grunted, causing a slow blush to rise to Emmy’s cheeks as she realized her lot had been cast for her, and that she’d be sleeping with the hobgoblin who had so intensely ravished her in that Lakeheart alley, what felt like so long ago.

The three sat in the common area for some time, reclining on overstuffed cushions in front of low tables. Emmy sipped from a cup of fragrant, floral tea while Orchid and Vath-Raya drank wine, waiting for the sun to fully set. Conversation was light and scant, ranging from the occasional (often bad, and often from Emeera) idea on how to break the smuggling ring, to idle chatter, to casual attempts at probing for information about one of the others. In the latter instance, Raya tended to respond with flat refusal to entertain, Orchid with clever deflections, and Emmy, of course, with reckless indulgence, though however an open book she may have been, her lived experience of training in a monastery tended to be of frustratingly little interest to either of her strange companions.

“–So I snuffed the blast from his hand with a well-placed counterspell, rendering him helpless as I buried him in magic missiles. The screams were magnificent,” Vath-Raya chuckled darkly to herself as she reached the tail end of a story, loosening up only very gradually with the application of her heady, spiced red wine. “When their leader returned from the demiplane I had sent her to, her companions had all been slain, whether by myself, or those over which I served as sarth. She surrendered on the spot, and to this day, remains in Tu’narath’s great, wailing dungeons.” The githyanki let out a sigh, a wistful fondness seeping into her rough voice.

“And you said this was over a… trade dispute?” Orchid had become a shade paler during the tale’s telling, particularly during the many, many disembowelments it had featured.

“Indeed. They placed a tariff on our shipments of metal. A show of force was required.”

“And this… worked?”

“Immediately.”

“Huh. Remind me not to piss you – or your people – off.”

“I am considered among the most tolerant and agreeable of my kin,” Vath-Raya nodded, “so that would be advisable, yes.”

“Noted.”

“What happened to the diplomat? Did he escape?” Emmy asked hopefully.

“He did not.”

“Oh.” The monk furrowed her brow a moment, then let out a soft sigh. “Well, it’s getting late, and I suppose I should get to bed. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Indeed we do,” Orchid nodded, draining the remnants of her goblet of wine, then standing. “My room’s upstairs; I had one of the barhands drag a second bed inside. I’ll lead you there.”

Once both Emeera and Vath-Raya had risen, the two followed the hobgoblin upstairs and into a modestly large room, consisting of a bathtub, one large bed, a smaller one recently placed, a tiny table, and a straight-backed wooden chair. This was definitely a place for sleeping, not living, but it offered all that was required. The wizard quickly took to laying out the materials needed for her protective ritual, beginning to grumble a long string of memorized incantations in the well-practiced attempt to summon her magical sanctuary.

“Do you have a nightshirt I can borrow?” Emmy asked as she put her staff and pack in the corner of the room, beginning to unwind the sashes and wrappings that kept her Edisseion uniform in place.

“Oh, come now,” Orchid chuckled, “it isn’t like I haven’t seen what’s beneath those robes before. Let’s not ignore our history, dearheart.” With that, she finished straightening the covers on the larger of the two beds, and unwound the deep purple cloth of her skimpy top, turning away from Vath-Raya as she freed her impressively full, smooth breasts. The sarong went next, then the dark undergarments beneath, facing away to keep her most-privates hidden from the githyanki, though the firm, rounded cakes of her backside were in full view. Raya, as she had with Emeera, made no comment, focusing on her spell as Orchid crawled in bed and covered up, turning those burning eyes onto the human girl – daring her to follow suit.

“R-right, that’s true!” Emmy’s voice cracked, heart fluttering as she found herself strangely uncertain of whether to be nervous or excited. She settled for both, and followed Orchid’s display, shimmying free of her robes and squirming her waifish figure into bed alongside the curvaceous scofflaw.

The pair earned only a brief glare and a “Rest well” from Vath-Raya once the githyanki had finally summoned the protective dome, eventually shedding her own armor but leaving her underthings on. They’d have to be thoroughly cleaned before any grand adventure tomorrow, along with just about everything else – between the heat, the salt, and the sand, Ai Fenitra had managed to increase the logistical challenges of adventuring twofold at least.

Blowing out the lanterns and crawling into her own bed, Raya did what she often did before sleep – scheme. She considered what spells would best complement her repertoire, plans for tomorrow’s endeavor, ideas for the mission as a whole. She repeated the steps of her schemes like mantras, thinking, dwelling, considering. Nearly twenty minutes passed of the wizard running this mental obstacle course before she heard the sound of squirming and rustling, not from beyond the safety of the dome, but within it.

She focused in on the sound, and it took only a moment to trace it to the room’s other bed – a half-protest from Emeera, barely given time to escape her lips before she was silenced, muffled by a hand across her mouth. More squirming, squirming of a familiar sort. Vath-Raya had seen many people squirm, men and women alike, and for many different reasons; they pushed, thrashed, kicked, tried to escape whatever had them thusly bound. This wasn’t squirming, it was undulation, a performance of protest. The exact kind of performance Emeera had given off during that “incident” with the trolls.

Muffled protests soon became muffled moans, quiet, but audible when one was wide-awake and listening for them. The undulation soon became interspersed with spasms of pleasure, and the sound of thrusting, and of flesh pushing against flesh, provided percussion. Vath-Raya considered interfering, more than once, as she lay on her bed trying to sleep… but no, wouldn’t that be counter-productive? Orchid and the monk girl were clearly past acquaintances and likely more, and given what she’d seen of Emeera’s sexual irregularities, this was likely exactly what she needed if she was going to focus on the mission. Get it out of her system. Maybe then she’d stop trying to innocently “coax” the mage into taking advantage of her every time the sun went down. It was for the best.

But… why, then, this unease? It wasn’t fear for the girl’s safety, Raya was quite certain she wouldn’t be harmed and was likely having the time of her life underneath those blankets. No, she was feeling something similar to what she’d felt earlier, that same dark thing Orchid’s wry comments and possessive little grab had awoken within her. Anger, but directed neither at Orchid nor Emeera.

Vath-Raya clenched her teeth, attempting to push her emotions down. She heard muffled gasps from both other women in their shared bed, and the squirming finally stopped. The wizard rolled onto her side, eyes wide open even as Emmy’s telltale snores began to fill the room. There was no way she was feeling… jealousy? No, that made no sense at all. The little human was nothing but a blonde pest, a resource that had barely even proven itself an asset at all. Not something – not someone – that Raya cared about.

Then why this feeling?

Growling softly under her breath, the githyanki tried to push the thoughts out of her head, tried to focus on the long meditations that would bring her to sound sleep. Try as she could, though, her mind never silenced, and sleep only came when her body finally insisted on shutting down. Soon, it would be dawn, and there would be much work to take care of. Something to focus on.

Good.