Mola joined me on the roof. She still wore her dark uniform from the Medica, but had added a grey cloak from her room. I took a roundabout path so we could stay on the safer sections of Mains. It was a cloudless night, and there was a sliver of moon to light our way.

“If I didn’t know better,” Mola said as we made our way around a tall brick chimney. “I’d think that you were luring me somewhere quiet for a sinister purpose.”

“What makes you think I’m not?” I asked lightly.

“You don’t seem like the type,” she said. “Besides, you can barely walk. If you tried anything, I’d just push you off the roof.”

“Don’t spare my feelings,” I said with a chuckle. “Even if I weren’t half-crippled, you could still throw me off this roof.”

I stumbled a little on an unseen ridge and nearly fell because my battered body was slow to respond. I sat on a piece of roof slightly higher than the rest and waited for the momentary dizziness to pass.

“Are you alright?” Mola asked.

“Probably not.” I pushed myself to my feet. “It’s just over this next roof,” I said. “It might be best if you stood back a ways and stayed quiet. Just in case.”

I made my way to the edge of the roof. I looked down at the hedges and the apple tree. The windows were dark.

“Auri?” I called softly. “Are you there?” I waited, growing more nervous by the second. “Auri, are you hurt?”

Nothing. I began to curse under my breath.

Mola crossed her arms. “Right, I think I’ve been plenty patient here. Care to tell me what’s going on?”

“Follow me and I’ll explain.” I headed for the apple tree and began to climb carefully down. I walked around the hedge to the iron grate. The ammonia smell of bone-tar wafted up from the grate, faint but persistent. I tugged on the grate, and it lifted a few inches before catching on something. “I made a friend a few months ago,” I said, nervously sliding my hand between the bars. “She lives down here. I’m worried that she might be hurt. A lot of the reagent went down the drains from the Fishery.”

Mola was silent for a while. “You’re serious.” I felt around in the dark under the grate, trying to figure out how Auri kept it closed. “What sort of person would live down there?”

“A frightened person,” I said. “A person who’s afraid of loud noises, and people, and the open sky. It took me nearly a month to coax her out of the tunnels, let alone get close enough to talk.”

Mola sighed. “If you don’t mind I’ll have a seat.” She walked over to the bench. “I’ve been on my feet all day.”

I continued to feel around under the grate, but try as I might, I couldn’t find a clasp anywhere. Growing increasingly frustrated, I grabbed the grate and tugged on it hard, again and again. It made several echoing metallic thumps but didn’t come free.

“Kvothe?” I looked up to the edge of the roof and saw Auri standing there, a silhouette against the night sky, her fine hair made a cloud around her head.

“Auri!”The tension poured out of me, leaving me feeling weak and rubbery. “Where have you been?”

“There were clouds,” she said simply as she walked around the edge of the roof toward the apple tree. “So I went looking for you on top of things. But the moon’s coming out, so I came back.”

Auri scampered down the tree, then pulled up short when she saw Mola’s cloaked form sitting on the bench.

“I brought a friend to visit, Auri,” I said in my gentlest tones. “I hope you don’t mind.”

There was a long pause. “Is he nice?”

“It’s a she. And yes, she’s nice.”

Auri relaxed a bit and came a few steps closer to me. “I brought you a feather with the spring wind in it, but since you were late ...” she looked at me gravely, “you get a coin instead.” She held it out at arm’s length, pinched between her thumb and forefinger. “It will keep you safe at night. As much as anything can, that is.” It was shaped like an Aturan penance piece, but it gleamed silver in the moonlight. I’d never seen a coin like it.

Kneeling, I opened my lute case and brought out a small bundle. “I’ve got some tomatoes, beans, and something special.” I held out the small sack I’d spent most of my money on two days ago, before all my troubles had started. “Sea salt.”

Auri took it, and peered inside the small leather sack. “Why this is lovely, Kvothe. What lives in the salt?”

Trace minerals, I thought. Chromium, bassal, malium, iodine ... everything your body needs but probably can’t get from apples and bread and whatever you manage to scrounge up when I can’t find you.

“The dreams of fish,” I said. “And sailor’s songs.”

Auri nodded, satisfied, and sat down, spreading out the small cloth and arranging her food with the same care as always. I watched her as she began to eat, dipping a green bean into the salt before taking a bite. She didn’t seem hurt, but it was hard to tell by the pale moonlight. I needed to be sure. “Are you okay, Auri?”

She cocked her head at me, curious.

“There was a big fire. A lot of it went down the grates. Did you see it?”

“Holy God, yes,” she said, her eyes wide. “It was all over, and all the shrews and raccoons were running everyway, trying to get out.”

“Did any of it get on you?” I asked. “Did you get burned?”

She shook her head, grinning a child’s sly smile. “Oh no. It couldn’t catch me.”

“Were you close to the fire?” I asked. “Did you breathe any of the smoke?”

“Why would I breathe smoke?” Auri looked at me as if I were simple. “The whole Underthing smells like cat piss now.” She wrinkled her nose. “Except by Downing and in the Belows.”

I relaxed a bit, but I saw Mola begin to fidget where she was sitting on the bench. “Auri, can my friend come over?”

Auri froze with a bean halfway to her mouth, then relaxed and bobbed her head once, sending her fine hair swirling around her.

I beckoned to Mola who began to walk slowly toward us. I was a little uneasy at how their meeting would go. It had taken me over a month of gentle coaxing to draw Auri out from the tunnels underneath the University where she lived. I worried that a bad reaction from Mola might startle her back underground where I would have no chance of finding her.

I gestured to where Mola stood. “This is my friend Mola.”

“Hello, Mola.” Auri looked up and smiled. “You have sunny hair like me. Would you like an apple?”

Mola’s expression was carefully blank. “Thank you, Auri. I’d like that.”

Auri jumped up and ran back to where the apple tree overhung the edge of the roof. Then ran back toward us, her hair flying behind her like a flag. She handed Mola an apple. “This one has a wish inside it,” she said matter-of-factly. “Make sure you know what you want before you take a bite.” That said, she settled back down and ate another bean, chewing primly.

Mola looked over the apple for a long moment before taking a bite.

Auri finished her meal quickly after that, and tied up the bag of salt. “Now play!” she said, excited. “Play!”

Smiling, I brought out my lute and brushed my hands over the strings. Thankfully my injured thumb was on my chording hand, where it would be a relatively minor inconvenience.

I looked at Mola as I tuned the strings. “You can go if you like,” I told her. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally serenade you.”

“Oh you musn’t go.” Auri turned to Mola, her expression deathly serious. “His voice is like a thunderstorm, and his hands know every secret hidden deep beneath the cool, dark earth.”

Mola’s mouth quirked into a smile. “I suppose I could stay for that.”

So I played for both of them, while overhead the stars continued in their measured turning.

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” Mola asked me as we made our way across the rooftops.

“It didn’t seem like anyone’s business,” I said. “If she wanted people to know she was there, I imagine she’d tell them herself.”