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I had to let go of her arm, even though I had wanted to find a way to slip my hand kind of naturally into hers. But I couldn't.The stairway was not very wide, and it was almost cramped as we walked down. My senses told me we should be fleeing instead, fleeing with the money we, if not had earned, then at least did deserve. Instead the light was slowly fading with each step we took downwards, towards the unknown. But the light would return, I knew, just as soon as we found the firedancer. Still, it was better to confront him now rather than later and unprepared somewhere. They would not rest until I lay dead, not if the prophecy was true. And, I looked at the outline of Nightbreeze in the dark, so far it had proven to be so.There was heat down there. I could feel the air, as dry as no cellar in a port city should ever be. But whether it was greencoal or something more sinister I could not tell.We both stumbled when after descending some thirty even yet steep steps of smooth stone, our. Our situation was at least partially mom’s fault. That was not bull shit. Not the discovery part. A psychologist would tell me that I had wanted to get caught, or that we both had wanted to get caught. We both knew that our ‘parental units’ had a key. They lived less than a half hour away in Kendall Lakes where we grew up.Our home, it was their house, having been great-grandma’s before she went to meet Jesus two years ago. Either or both of us could have made it appear that we slept in separate beds, in separate rooms. Neither of us did. Maybe it was us growing up and not being willing to hide our love for each other anymore.What was in my admittedly highly biased opinion mom’s and to a degree dad’s fault was something they should truly be proud of. She had raised a boy to be as close to perfect a man as anyone human might hope to. Harry. Harry was sweet and thoughtful, kind and considerate. He put my needs first, he took care of me. He was strong and reliable, driven and buff. He.
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