1


    “And that''s how I met your mother,” Cammo finished, taking a final sip of his hot chocolate. “And ended up here after running a long time… The old man had never written down our names for obvious reasons, but that woman already made them known. We changed them and went together as a group after that. Battle having a way of bringing people together.”


    Vincenzo and Plum just stared at him. “Did you really need to tell us every detail?” the teenager questioned. “She’s just a kid.”


    Plum snuck worried glances at Vincenzo.


    “Is that really all you have to say?” Cammo asked, putting his cup aside.


    Plum just kept turning between them, looking anxious.


    “Yep,” Vincenzo answered coldly. “What''s wrong with you, Plum? It was a crazy story, sure, but you look sick.”


    “H-he killed your sister, or cousin, or niece, or whatever she was!” she said. “She was your family!”


    Vincenzo didn’t answer for a minute, thinking of what to say. When the answer came, he turned towards the man and said, “Good job.”


    “Thanks,” Cammo replied.


    “Why?” Plum asked. “Why ‘good job’?”


    “Did she kill a bunch of people for no reason?” Vincenzo asked. “Well, ‘no reason’ is a bad way to describe it… Did she kill a bunch of people for bad reasons?”


    “Yeah…”


    “That''s why. People like that should just die. I have one dad and his name is Marco,” Vincenzo said. “Blood isn’t everything.”


    The night air bit into the three of them as the fire started to dim.


    “I see…” she muttered, as her joyful attitude returned. “So it isn''t that you don''t care about people related to you, it was just because she was evil.”


    “Yep, pretty much,” he said, and drank the last of his now cool drink. “What are those goat-people anyway?”


    “Cappellas, the original men of Overworld before the blood moon appeared,” Cammo explained, readying his hide sleeping bag. “The other species come from their own respective craters.”


    “Oh! So you guys are practically aliens,” said Vincenzo.


    “In a way…” Cammo mumbled, slipping inside. “But aliens are something else entirely…”


    Vincenzo wanted to know what he meant by that desperately, but kept his mouth shut, figuring that, with how the emp was divulging information now, answers would come in time. His head had started to pulsate within his skull again… Time was short; he needed to get Plum to bed so he could “sleep” too.


    “So, what''s this braid for again?” Vincenzo questioned.


    “It''s a Blood Braid,” she explained, her face growing a darker shade. He realized she was blushing. “Mama said that if someone braids your hair and ties it in the middle with a drop of their own blood, then they become family.”


    “Huh, that''s a weird custom…” Vincenzo commented.


    “I don''t know where it comes from… or even why it''s done,” she said, growing even more embarrassed. She had good reason to; it was a strange thing by itself, but it was an even stranger thing to ask. “But I still want to do it. Vincenzo, do you wanna be my older brother? It’s fine if you don’t… I can still untie it at the top and just wear my hair in two tails if you want…”


    Vincenzo smiled. “Yeah, why not? It''s not like I have any real family anymore…” It’s not like I actually care either. But I won’t stop you, it’d be a cruel thing to do. In his mind, he wouldn’t be sticking around long. That hadn’t changed. The moment she was safe, he was gone.


    “It''s decided!” Plum said with a grin, before turning to her father. “And you''re fine with it?”


    “Mmm…” Cammo grunted. It seemed like an assent. That was a surprise.


    “It''s fine…” she muttered. “Now stab yourself and drop the blood!”


    “Kay,” Vincenzo said. He stabbed the tip of his thumb with a small dagger.


    The tiny drop landed in her braid as the wound closed; he tied them together using a small amount of sticky red to help keep them bound.


    “Okay!” she yelled, a huge smile sitting on her face. “I’ll go to bed now…”


    She crept into her bag, said goodnight, and fell asleep a second later… What a skill, he thought. I wish I could fall asleep that quick.


    The thumping in his head was strong, but he felt something else too. A fluttery and warm sensation in his heart, one that filled him with a feeling he might never manage to put into words. But he felt empty, too.


    He wanted to sleep, or whatever equivalent Cammo could provide. Cammo formed his Glow and sat up before he clocked the moon-man hard across the face, dislocating his jaw and knocking a few teeth loose.


    Vincenzo went to “bed.”


    2


    The rising sun was the first thing to wake him, piercing through the skin of his eyelids and painting his view red. He rose and opened them, muttering something under his breath. It was much warmer than the previous night, making him sweat beneath all the extra layers he wore.


    “Good morning,” Plum greeted.


    Her hair was straight again.


    “Good morning…” he groaned, stretching his back.


    Cammo said, “We’ll leave Plum alone when it reaches noon, then we’ll go off alone and take care of business. She’ll join us after.”


    “How do you know we''re close?”


    “This is the end of Fall, moon-man,” the emp explained. “Winter is long, and rest is necessary. They’re most likely waiting for us at the entrance.”


    “Alright,” Vincenzo said, glancing over at the girl. “Does she know why she’s hanging back?”


    “Yeah, I know. You guys have to fight someone, right?” she asked.


    Vincenzo nodded. “Yep…”


    “I’ll wish you luck later,” she mumbled. “For now, I want to know what siblings are…”


    Cammo kicked the flame into the abyss as Vincenzo put his heavy pack on again, and they began to walk.


    “What do you mean?” Vincenzo questioned, standing just behind her as they slowly moved along the branches. “Don’t you already know?”


    “Well, I know what a mother is to a daughter, what a father is to a daughter—but not what a brother is to a sister, or the other way around…” she admitted. “I wanted you to be my brother either way… Plus, it sounds cool. What do you think a brother is?”


    “Don''t ask me,” he said. “I’ve never had any siblings.”


    Cammo chimed in: “Me neither.”


    “It''s something that you really shouldn''t worry about. You''ll come across the answer on your own,” Vincenzo said. “I think…”


    “Ah…” Plum said. “Are you okay?”


    “Hmm?”


    “You seemed kind of sick these last couple of days…” Plum commented. “Are you still cursed?”


    Vincenzo was a little surprised. He thought, And here I was thinking I was being sneaky about it… Very observant, Plum. “No, I’m fine,” he said. He was, for the moment, so it was just a half-lie.


    “Mmm…” Plum didn’t seem like she was buying it.


    “Trust me,” he said with a smile. “You can chop off my head and I’d still be fine! I’m immortal, baby! A little light show isn''t gonna mess with me.”


    That was a full lie.


    3


    They moved slowly along the wood, chatting about nothing in particular, but enjoying the time. The wind was calm and the sun hovered high, turning the usually chilly area much warmer than usual—good for lighter clothing, and lighter clothing that allowed for better mobility. It was that kind of thinking that dominated Vincenzo''s mind as the sun rose. It’s high noon, he knew, looking up. It’s time.


    “By my math: it’s a five-minute walk until the exit,” Cammo said, stopping. “This is where we say goodbye for now. Plum, Vincenzo will come for you after.”


    She did something that wasn''t quite a pout; she looked more worried than anything. “Okay…” Plum said. “Good luck, you two! Be back soon!”


    “Yeah, we’ll be back before you know it!” Vincenzo said. He kept his pack unlike Cammo. “I’ll take good care of him, okay?”


    Plum stared at him before averting her gaze, giving him a small nod. They went off. Vincenzo thought it was strange, but he had other things to worry about. Like a fight to the death. Like a fight to the death where he couldn’t even hurt his challenger. Frey was who was on his mind.


    4


    They disappeared amongst the massive columns of wood as she stared, wondering to herself:


    Why did he bring his pack? Why is everything they do a secret? Why can’t I know? I know they’re hiding something from me… Something big. Cammo lied to me. I know he did. That got her angry. And whatever he’s hiding, it’s got to do with me.


    She put her pack back on. “And I’m going to find out what!”


    5


    Vincenzo brushed away some leaves gathering on the top of his pack before removing a smaller bag from inside. He started to drag out different items: preserved foods, water in empty booze bottles, spare clothing ripped from the corpses before, some other survival supplies… and a sizable leather bag.


    “What''s that for?” Cammo asked, sharpening the thick edge of his blade.


    “For Frey,” he answered, dropping the larger pack and bringing the small along. “Seeing as how you''re gonna break her legs, we should probably leave some supplies for her… After all, we have a surplus.”


    “Vincenzo,” Cammo said, turning over to face the pale moon-man. It was a move that he’d rarely use when speaking, choosing more often than not to converse with sideways glances or flat out none at all.


    “Yeah?”


    “The moment your choice gets us killed, I''m killing you.”


    “Right…”


    “I also want to know…” Cammo said, “why don''t you want to hurt women? You don’t seem to have a very just character.”


    Blunt but true, Vincenzo thought. He didn’t want to explain, but he and Cammo—whether they liked it or not, and they didn’t—were about to fight alongside each other, and Vincenzo had already threatened to leave if he did not comply with his demands. Might as well spill his guts.


    “Since you spent so long last night with your story, I’ll make mine quick…” Vincenzo started. Cammo moved his attention to the woody path. “I wanted peace, revenge, and gratification.” His pale face grew distant and his eyes dull. “I had nightmares every night… So I did some real fucked up shit to end it. Alice, my… um… girlfriend, died because of it. I don’t want to hurt a woman again. Ever. You can understand that much, can’t you?”


    Cammo studied his grim expression. “So, you regret it?”


    “ ‘Course,” the moon-man answered. “I’d kill myself, but I’m not a fan of suicide. But that doesn''t mean I have to keep myself out of danger. If you think I’m a monster: that''s fine, I think so too.”


    “That''s all well and good, but you can''t die now,” Cammo stated. “Plum would be sad if you did.”


    “What are you talking about? Didn''t you hear my story?”


    The emp walked over to him. “Yeah, you''re a monster… But I’ve met a lot of men like you. Women too. Moon-men too…” Cammo said, slamming his hand on Vincenzo’s high shoulder. “People who’ve done horrible things… people who regret them. Vincenzo, I believe in redemption.”


    He patted Vincenzo’s shoulder twice and turned, continuing down the hard branch… Vincenzo watched him in silence, the only emotion on his face was shock before he slowly began to chuckle.


    “What''s so funny?” Cammo muttered, still facing forward.


    “Nothing, you just propped up some death flags… That''s the same thing my father said before he died,” Vincenzo giggled, knowing it wasn’t something to giggle about. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He regained his cool. “I was just thinking to myself, Man, way to jinx it.”


    Cammo clicked his tongue. “You did too, exposing yourself like that…”


    “Hey, Cammo.”


    “What?”


    “Thanks for calling me a monster,” Vincenzo said. “It’s something I think I always like to hear.”


    6


    Frey and Buta moved their cargo aside, getting ready for the imminent encounter. Buta’s spell was useful that way, feeding her information on the moon-man’s whereabouts. She moved her cloak aside, wearing thin yet flexible black leather, and began to stretch. Frey extended her wings, flapping them as a light exercise as she did the same, while also arching her back and grabbing her toes to stretch both her back and legs. Buta took one final gulp of water while keeping a vigilant eye on the branches ahead.


    She unsheathed her twin blades. “Frey?”


    “Yeah?” Frey grabbed her large iron club by its handle and raised it as if it weighed nothing, resting it on her shoulder. The clock over her head began to tick to the right, filling the area it passed over green, and stopped as she set the weapon back down with a thump.


    “Nothing… I was just thinking of how adult you look,” Buta said, grinning.


    Frey didn''t have it in her to smile at her, only responding with a small nod.


    “Actually, there''s something else too,” said Buta. “This change in personality… It doesn''t just happen overnight. For all your life, you''ve been anxious, a little cowardly, and open… And now… you''re like a completely different person…”


    “This isn’t the time, Buta. Stay on the subject at hand.”


    Buta looked shocked. It wasn’t something the avilop had ever done before. She was always such a sweet, kind girl, Buta thought.


    “You’d never understand how much he meant to me…” Frey claimed, turning away. Gult was her first protector. He was the first one to take her in and provide her with something other than a cage to rot in. The man who killed him, Guerriero or not, was going to pay.


    Silence passed between them just like the falling leaves, and Buta knew that she was almost too far gone. Frey was getting wrapped up in herself.


    “Hey!” a familiar voice called.


    They both turned to its direction, seeing two men stand in the middle of a branch eighty feet away. It was time.


    “Come on…” Frey said.


    A thin, amber-colored Glow enveloped her. She grabbed Buta with one hand and held the heavy metal of the club with the other, and flew to the opposite end of that branch…


    7


    Vincenzo’s confident smile faded for just a moment before he regained his composure. Cammo kept his rocky look steady as they approached, only unsheathing his blade.


    “Hey,” the pale one greeted, throwing the cloth bag aside and keeping the leather one. He pulled two shells out of a pouch already strapped to his waist. Heavy Metal was in his white hands and Frey was about to move… “Hold up, let''s set up some rules here.”


    “Why’s that?” Frey said. Just looking at her, it was easy to tell she was itching to bite into him. She was small, and thin, and not at all threatening, but she felt dangerous.


    Don’t let her looks fool you, he thought. Cammo’s a bean-pole but he could kick your ass eight times over. Wizards are weird like that. “Because you want to kill me,” Vincenzo pointed out. “Emphasis on you. You want to be the one to put me in the dirt. So let’s do it. Me versus you. Drive-way-skinned bitch versus Cammo.”


    “Hey, Frey, don''t listen to this, he’s just goading you!” drive-way-skinned bitch said, taking a step forward.


    Frey grabbed onto her shoulder. “No.”


    The four-eyed freak stared at her.


    “He’s absolutely right,” said Frey. “I want to be the one to do it, and it has to be me—only me.”


    Vincenzo smiled even wider, loading both of the wooden shells. “So, I have your word we won''t interfere in the other matchup?” he asked, tying his other leather bag to his waist as well. “We agree on that?”


    “Fine,” she said.


    The four-eyed freak grabbed her by her bicep and pulled her close. “Frey!” she whisper-screamed. “Mind’s Tumor hit him, but as you can see, he’s completely fine! On the other hand, all I’ve got is my Glow to defend myself! We need to be together! We’re giving up too much…”


    Vincenzo could hear every word. Sound traveled far.


    “Don''t worry, Buta,” Frey whispered back. “I’ll tear him apart and come to help you the moment it''s done.”


    Buta—that was her name, he heard—seemed to feel like arguing more, but ended up dropping it the same way she dropped Frey’s arm. Everything was going exactly according to plan, as bad a plan as it was.


    “We’ll fight how you want!” Frey yelled. “You better keep your word.”


    “Perfect!” Vincenzo smiled. “Don’t worry about a thing, I keep my promises.”


    Cammo’s Glow covered him as he jumped to a neighboring branch without a word. Buta followed. Vincenzo was more than a little jealous of their mobility as he watched them disappear from sight, hopping over the black below with ease and a speed he could barely follow with his eyes, until they disappeared amongst the great wood just a moment later. Damn, I gotta learn how to do that… he thought, before turning to the pink bird-girl. But first, I have to figure her out.


    It was another non-human thing that stood on two legs and spoke, and he was getting a little tired of interacting with non-human things. Why is she pink? was one of his first thoughts. What is she wearing? was the second. It was warmer than it’d been the night before, but it was still as cold as chilled shit in his opinion, and the girl was wearing what looked like one layer; a thin, almost ethereal, white linen that hung loose in many places, and he could almost see the bubble-gum pink of her skin through her arms. It was an outfit that didn’t really leave a lot to the imagination. Isn’t she cold? If she is, she’s doing a good job of hiding it, he reflected. But that wasn’t what his black eyes found so interesting—the golden scales running from her forearm to her hand and from her shins to the end of her toes, they were the strangest part, and so were the talons sitting on the end. Even her large emerald eyes that were very round—ones that reminded him of an owl’s—seemed quaint in comparison to the pink-feathered wings that stretched far on either side of her. She looked like angel. Stop gawking, dumbass, his higher mind ordered. It’s time to get down to business.


    Alright, he agreed. I’ll do just that.


    “So…” Vincenzo said. “That bat is way too big. It''s fake, right? Like paper maché or something? Because even I couldn’t hold that thing up, and you flew over here like it didn’t weigh a thing… So, what’s the deal?”


    Frey grinned—it was the kind of grin someone would wear when hiding a delicious little secret, or catching someone in their trap, thinking to themselves, Oh, I got you now!—while holding the hunk of iron up like it weighed nothing.


    “I don''t like the look of that smi—”


    The twenty feet between turned to three in an instant as Frey swung for him with her wings spread! Vincenzo fired at its bottom of the club, narrowly ducking as it flew over his head with a terrifying WHIFF!


    No time for small talk, he knew, also knowing that his head would’ve come off had he not landed his shot. His shot also managed to get her to back off, if only for a moment. The angel eyed him with caution and blew the hair hanging in front of one to the side, laying the heavy metal of her club on the wood beside her. Then she was ready again.


    She flapped her wings twice, shooting forwards and bringing her club up with her, before slamming it down into the bark in front of him! Vincenzo backpedaled into a wall of bark as it dented the wood, staring at the crater it made as she pulled it out.


    It wasn’t paper maché. It wasn’t a balloon. It wasn’t ply-wood. It was real. It was a goddamned giant caveman club. And its heavy, heavy as fuck! he thought. I could swear I saw her get pulled by it as she swung… That was the thing, wasn’t it? He needed to find out what her spell was and what it did. She got pulled by it… That felt important.


    He didn''t have time to think about it anymore as she forced it his way. He climbed up the thick bark as quickly as he could, only able to narrowly dodge by firing into the ground for the extra momentum. The shiny metal crashed into the trunk at its tip and bounced a small amount, before pressing itself against the bark.


    He was seven feet in the air when Frey pulled back her club. To his shock, it hadn''t dented the wood at all. The hell?! He still clung to the tree with his left arm and both legs, his stomach to the bark. It really wasn’t the best place to be—he had nowhere to run. Frey grit her teeth and swung!


    “SHI—!” he started, just as the bat slammed into the side of his stomach.


    For just a moment, as he flew through the air above the abyss, he could swear that he felt weightless… and then the weight came back and he crashed into the side of another tree, breaking bones as he fell down to the middle of another branch. He felt lucky for the surprise ground; otherwise, it would have been a long fall. Still hurt though, he thought to no one in particular, his bones melding together.


    He rose to Frey’s surprise, a steady stream of bright blood slowly seeping from his mouth before spitting it out. He loaded two more shells.


    “I get it…” Vincenzo said, wiping away blood on his lips. “You mess with weight, right?”


    Frey flapped closer, practically hovering, holding the club in front of her as a shield in case any more shots came her way. The clock floating over her kept ticking, the one silver arm spreading green until it overpowered the white. He knew that her spell messed with weight, that that she could bend it at will, but had no clue what the hell the clock floating above her skull had to do with it.


    “I''ve named it…” she started. She flew higher, reaching about fifty feet over him, before folding her wings back and swinging down hard. The weight pulled her along as Vincenzo dove towards the trunk. “Feather Falling!”


    The metal almost shot through the middle of the branch where Vincenzo had stood before he dove away, nearly destroying the natural bridge between the trees! Frey, even though near the impact, stood on the cracked wood and pulled the club back, resting its handle on her thin shoulder. Her show of strength wasn’t lost on him. She had grit.


    “Oh, holy shit,” he said blandly, rising to his knees again. “Jesus Christ.”


    She swung one wild strike after another, making it light when she raised it and reverting her affect the moment she swung; the wood splintered deep after every strike. Vincenzo fired twice with deafening BANGS! but throwing the weapon off course wasn''t enough to stop his back from grinding against the trunk.


    Oh, yeah, he thought, watching her inch closer despite his explosive protests. This is getting pretty bad.


    From the look on her pretty face, he could tell she thought the opposite. He bet she thought:


    Oh, yeah. This is getting pretty good.


    8


    Cammo stabbed at Buta’s neck, an attack she barely avoided by throwing her head to the left as she stabbed her own twin blades towards his midsection. He grabbed the tips with his stony left hand and held it there, the rough texture combined with his strength stopping her attempts to pull it back.


    “You have no chance…” he said, stretching his right arm back.


    She let go the moment he swung, avoiding what would’ve been a decapitation. “Neither does your friend,” she panted.


    Crouched, she pulled a small silver dagger from her boot. Cammo tossed her other weapons into the abyss without ceremony. “Maybe… Maybe not… But that’s not for you to decide.”


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    He had her armed with a single dagger. It was only a matter of time before he could bury his blade in her skull…


    9


    Plum looked on from behind the tree on Cammo’s side, clinging to the bark fiercely. Neither of the adults noticed her. At least, she hoped so… That’s a hiddunson! her excited mind pointed out. Of the Great Chasm! Wait, no…! That’s not what you’re here for, remember? You need to find out what they’ve been keeping from you. You gotta!


    They began to swing at each other. The hiddunson''s short dagger couldn''t even come close to the masked man, even when his sword scraped against her gray-textured skin, spilling red into the dark.


    Plum could only watch amazed; their speeds were insane! They reacted quicker, they attacked quicker, they defended quicker, they were just… quicker. She wondered if Glow did anything more than just increase strength… Now''s not the time, she thought. Focus, dummy!


    The hiddunson’s blade shattered as she deflected another deadly attack, barely saving herself from yet another killing blow! Without any weapon she turned to run, but his sword stabbed into her calf and sent her tumbling into the trunk of the tree instead.


    He wiped away the sweat, which seeped through the mask like a second skin, on his forehead while letting a deep breath out.


    “Damn it…” the hiddunson mumbled, using the bark to pull herself up.


    “Me and you,” Cammo said. “We’re a little old for this, aren’t we? A little old for fights to the death, right?”


    He walked closer as the hiddunson’s resolute stare became more fearful. Something about that made Plum’s heart sink. The hiddunson stood on her injured leg, learning that the wound was deep, yet small. She could still move.


    “I agree…” she said. “Battles to the death are a younger woman''s game…” She glanced around frantically as gunshots echoed off nearby. “But things don’t always turn out the way we want, do they?”


    “Old habits…” Cammo agreed. He threw the tip an inch away from her throat, and her attention went to the emp instantly. “Now. How did you know about my daughter? And about Locine’s death?”


    “Fuck you!”


    The tip traveled further into her skin, a stream of red running down her neck. The back of her head grinded against the bark as she shrank away, afraid to even dry swallow. “Half an inch,” said Plum’s father, something close to murder in his eyes. “All it would take is half an inch.”


    Sweat ran down her forehead as his gaze persisted… “Fine, just move it away!” she shouted. “Now! Now!” He did, yet kept the tip an inch away, ready to thrust ahead. “When we learned it was incurable, we decided to go to a certain wizard. He could astrally project. And with the information Slogine provided, they found you and your sick wife… From what we’ve seen of the disease, she would be dead by the time we got here, or close to it. We planned from there…”


    “One last thing.” Cammo tightened his grip. “How is he?”


    And Plum and the hiddunson’s eyes met. She spotted me! Plum knew, but didn’t hide. The Hiddunson simply looked back towards her father, not mentioning what she saw. What did that mean?


    “He’s fine… sick… but fine,” she said. “And he won’t be fine for long. Cammo’s stoicism returned as he gripped the leather grip tight, no doubt preparing to push the blade just one more inch. “But since I answered yours, can you answer one question?”


    “What?”


    “Does she even know why we''re here? Your daughter? Why all this is even happening? Does she know what her place in all this is?”


    Plum’s long ears pricked up and she held her breath.


    “No, not a thing,” he said. “I told her about wizard-eating noblemen—a half-lie but a good one, especially when it comes to us—but that''s it.”


    “Good,” she replied, a thin yet triumphant smile coming into being. Cammo raised an eyebrow. “Well, girl, do you want to know what really happened?!”


    Cammo’s eyebrows furrowed, more angry than confused.


    “Yes!” Plum answered. She stepped out from where she hid. “I do!”


    He didn’t look at her. Cammo pulled his arm back, ready to shove his sword into the woman’s neck before she could speak. He’s going to murder her, Plum thought. He’s really going to do it.


    But she ducked just as the sword impaled the spot where her head used to be but where her ear now was, severing her right one in the attack. Cammo pulled it out and tried to chop at her, but the moment it was about to rip through her fleeing body a small blue wall interrupted it, deflecting the sharp blade! Cammo gave his daughter an angry glance as Buta jumped to safety; Plum gave one back.


    The woman fled along with her answers. “Wait!” Plum shouted, but Cammo had already jumped after her. “What are you hiding?!”


    Cammo ignored her and went on. His daughter watched as the two jumped from branch to branch with ease, leaving her behind, leaving her with even more questions than before. The fact that she was used to get away, she knew that right after the fact, was even more salt on the wound.


    “Damn it…” she said, under her breath, peering over the edge into the black below.


    She knew the woman wasn''t strong enough to survive without her help… And if she died, the truth—something she was getting more and more anxious about—died with her. She needed to get after them. But how do I do that? she wondered, watching the two lights disappear among the giant trunks, their bodies a blur in their speed. I can barely follow them with my eyes! But I gotta do something, don’t I?


    “Damn it!” she yelled, knowing exactly what that “something” was.


    She needed to get after them.


    So she jumped. It was abrupt, but she figured it was the only way to get her moving before she could convince herself otherwise. Her small heart stopped as she started to fall. She screamed, closing her eyes and holding her hands out beneath her, hoping to all the Gods her mother had told the truth about how she was stronger than she knew… And she was right:


    A rippling translucent floor caught her before she plummeted into the unknown depths. Her eyes shot open when she heard a small crack, looking down—a terrifying thing, but also necessary—to see the long and wavy line snake its way across the rippling blue, branching off in almost every direction. She let out a pathetic moan and stood up immediately when the reality of her situation hit. One wrong move, one lapse in concentration, and she would fall—she would fall into nothingness. Anxiety took hold; more and more cracks appeared. The rapid beat of her heart, now pumping blood again, seemed almost audible… “No, no, no, no!” she protested, feeling every crack as if they were knives in her flesh. “Come on!”


    Each crack split and fused with the next despite her pleading. You’re making it worse! she told herself. Don’t you remember what papa said? You need to concentrate! If you don’t then… Well, don’t think about that! She slapped the sides of her cheeks, straightening her back while standing completely still over the abyss as she closed her eyes.


    “Calm down… Calm down…” she whispered to herself. “You know how it works… The more nervous you get, the weaker Glass Houses becomes…”


    The sound of her spell breaking was similar to, well, glass. And its sound didn''t stop even as she managed to slow the rapid drumming of her heart. Plum took a long breath in through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. The shattering noise started to slow—not by much, but enough to convince her that she hadn’t committed suicide.


    “See?” she whispered. “You''re okay…”


    When her ruby eyes opened, the endless bottom seemed so much less threatening than it had been before, emboldening the young emp enough so that she was finally beginning to feel in control. That thought stopped the spread of cracks completely. I’m okay.


    She crouched down readying her body to jump, and jump she did, meeting her spell again. This time, no cracks. Then she started to walk, putting one foot in front of the other while trying her best not to look down again, open palms aimed towards her boots. Only being able to conjure one barrier at a time made it difficult, but slowly—very slow in fact—she got a rhythm… Then, when that rhythm was closer to the instinctual nature that handled her breathing, she started to run.


    Her speed may have not been as impressive as the other two, but she knew she would catch up. She also knew that whatever was being held from her was important, so important that Cammo would murder somebody right in front of her to keep it secret… I’ll find out anyway, she thought stubbornly. I swear I will.


    10


    Vincenzo’s clothing ripped from the exposed bones poking out from the skin. They shrunk back into his body as he rose back to his feet, his pale skin painted red. He wiped away the blood sneaking into his eyes and spit out fractured and dislodged teeth, loading another to shells into Heavy Metal with a snap. His confident smile was replaced with a tired scowl as he panted heavily into the chilly afternoon air, more sweat rolling down his reddened skin…


    Frey stretched her wings allowing her to slowly glide to the branch he bled on. The pearly cloth clung tighter against her skin as small beads of sweat began to form; the clock was still ticking. The blood on her was just on her, not a single drop belonging to her body. “You can heal your own wounds?” she asked, but it was obvious she already knew the answer. “Neat trick, but I’m going to crack your head open so many times it won''t matter.”


    The resolve on her face did not waver as she smashed her metal into the bark, narrowly missing Vincenzo’s tired body. He staggered back as the ground shook—it wasn’t how he’d usually dodge, however. It was more like he was falling backwards.


    “Give up,” he panted, giving her the middle finger with his left hand. “And fuck off… Both in either order, I don’t give a shit.”


    “You’re not in a good position, scum.”


    She pushed the weapon towards him one more time, slamming it into his chest and propelling his back into the trunk! She ran forward and shot the weapon''s tip in the same spot, pinning him a foot off the bark. He coughed up an abnormal amount of blood onto the sleek metal of the club, his rough hands sliding off the surface as he tried to grip to shove it away. That’s not gonna work, he realized quickly. It’s too slippery, and she made me light too! I can’t do shit…!


    “I didn''t want to do this…” he whispered, his left hand reaching for the sizable bag hanging off his waist. “I really didn’t…”


    “Just die already!” she yelled, leaning into the club to press it harder against him.


    “But I guess I have to…” he said, pulling something out of the leather bag on his hip.


    Frey’s look of determination and rage turned into despair and shock when she saw it, the already thin light she emitted wavering.


    “Yeah,” Vincenzo coughed, aiming the heavy gun at the item in his left hand. “I got a hostage!”


    He held Gult’s decapitated head above the bat—a rotting dreadful looking thing, banged up and discolored from the fight. Frey pushed it deeper, forcing more and more blood out of his destroyed lungs as she screamed in a mix of rage and agony.


    “Fetch!” he yelled cruelly, chucking the head down into the abyss with a small grin. “The rest of the bodies burned, bird-girl! That’s all you get to bury!”


    “Damn you!” she screamed, tearing up as she tried to pull her club away.


    Vincenzo bit into the side of Heavy Metal and carved a handhold into the club, all while clinging to the bark he had been grinding against just moments ago, unrelenting in his wish to keep the weapon away from her. His smug and bloody smile told Frey all she needed to know about keeping her club. Letting go, she dove after what was left of her brother. He fell down, heavy again.


    He ran to the handle and turned the spot where it started to widen into a shell; tossing the rod left over, he tore off his bloody jacket and started to wipe the weapon with it. The shiny metal turned into a glossy red. “Let’s see you use it now…” he chuckled. “I can take you now—I will.”


    His headache grew to almost unbearable proportions, but he wasn''t energetic enough to express it… Thump, thump, thump, THUMP, THUMP, THUMP! the inside of his brain screamed. It never fucking stops, does it?!


    Silence dominated as he sat down and pressed his bare back against the wet metal. The blood did little to bother him as he let out labored breaths of growing exhaustion, tossing the shirt aside he looked up at the rays of sun squeezing in between the tight net of branches. A ray fell on him for a moment as he shut his eyes… It was warm and there was a breeze, and he liked both of those things very much… In that small and useless moment, the torturous throbbing in his head ceased. He didn''t bother questioning it. She’ll be pissed as hell when she’s back, he thought. I’d be pissed…


    “Yeah, she’ll try to tear you in half,” someone agreed.


    Vincenzo shot up and aimed his weapon around for the source, whirling his pale and battle-worn body in one direction to another.


    “In the reflection,” it guided. “The one on the bat.”


    Vincenzo looked into the glossy red surface with caution, still holding his weapon close. “What the hell?”


    The shape in the wet metal became more and more familiar the closer he came, but wrong. And wrong was the only thing that the pale teen could think when he realized what it was.


    “Hey,” it greeted, grinning.


    It was his own reflection, talking and acting as if he couldn''t control its every move, like all reflections should. Vincenzo cringed away from the multiple eyes covering its body, finding it hard not to stare; at least fifty of them stared back, including the two sitting under its eyebrows.


    “Another hallucination…” Vincenzo sighed, sitting back down with a hand on his face. “I don’t have time for this…”


    Its head started to peek out from the club as if it was resurfacing from a clear pool, until it pulled the rest of its body out and sat beside him on his right side, naked and nonchalant.


    “What?” it asked, as if nothing was strange. Vincenzo went back to closing his eyes. “You''re not even going to react to me climbing out?”


    Vincenzo threw his right arm across its neck, smacking the club’s side. It faded into smoke before reassembling a moment later, unharmed. “See?” he said, bringing his arm back to his face. “Just a hallucination… Now let me relax, will you?”


    It clicked its tongue. “What''s a ‘rest’ gonna do for you? We both know you have about five shots before you pass out completely, and that''s not even counting getting mangled up along the way.”


    “I’ll figure something out…”


    “What a cop-out! ‘I’lL FiGurE SOmThinG oUt!’ ” it mocked. “You’re not doing shit and you know it.”


    “I’m thinking right now, so could you kindly fuck off?” Vincenzo was not in any kind of mood to be arguing with himself. “Please? You’re grossing me out, freak.”


    It and its multiple eyes just stared at him, annoyed. “Hey, what happened to that headache of yours?”


    He stayed silent, only calming his breath and continuing to wipe blood out of his eyes.


    “It''s gone,” it answered. “Wanna know why it''s gone?”


    He stayed silent. I don''t care, he thought. I really couldn’t give less of a shit, I’m not sorry to say. Sure, it’s kinda nice to not have that annoying “thump”, but I got better shit to do than worry about that. Like figure out how I’m gonna handle Frey when she comes back…


    It gave him the answer as to why: “Because I’m fully mature, baby!”


    Vincenzo raised his head, perplexed.


    “Yep! You already noticed it weaken from the first night you felt it, and it kept getting weaker; now it’s gone. Everyone dies from that first time it emerges—usually from someone killing them or killing themselves—but your immortality managed to break the cycle! So, good job!” It clapped for him, slow and sarcastic, its smile the same.


    “Shut up… Frey already told me what the spell does.”


    It laughed the way he would laugh. Vincenzo didn’t like it one bit. “What a joke… So, I guess you know what Heavy Metal could do in every possible scenario, right?”


    “Yeah, if I hold onto it then anything I touch—apart from flesh and spells that aren''t my own—become shotgun shells. I know my own spell.”


    “Oh?” It smiled. “Does that mean air? ‘Cause you’re touching the air. How about fire? And sound? Can ‘ya make a bullet out of that? Who the fuck knows? You don’t, that’s for sure.”


    “And how would you?” Vincenzo asked. “You’re fake, a figment, a hallucination—my hallucination. The only thing you know is what I know.”


    “Yep…” it said, glancing down to the void. Vincenzo sensed it was a lie. “But I know of things you’re not even conscious of; like the real reason you don''t wanna fight back…”


    “Oh yeah?” he mumbled, glaring. “And what would that be?”


    It gave him a shrewd smile, slowly sinking back into the weapon''s glossy reflection of the club they sat near. “When your back’s against the wall, I’ll be the one in the driver''s seat,” it warned. “We’re real sick fucks, aren’t we?”


    Then it was gone. The silence he was left in went from comforting to uncomfortable. Vincenzo snuck a look at the reflection behind him only to see himself looking back—a small victory.


    “What a shitshow…” he muttered, standing back up and stretching.


    He was as refreshed as he was ever going to get and his headache, as the figment said, was gone. Look who’s here.


    Frey rose upon silently with a look of pure rage, the remnants of her brother not with her. Vincenzo goaded her on with a shit-eating grin as he raised his weapon, aiming the twin barrels at her head.


    “Looks like you’re unarmed… Now come quietly,” he said. She stopped gritting her teeth, clenching her fists, and staring daggers at him. Her previously enraged face became apathetic but still somehow just as wrathful. She looked him right in his black eyes with green ones, eyes that the man thought were beautiful. Like gems, he thought, before knocking his mind back in place.


    “I''m going to destroy you,” she claimed, almost calmly. She flapped her powerful wings slowly, so slowly that the fact she was even airborne seemed like a preposterous idea; it looked more like she was suspended by invisible wire. She looked down at him while reaching into the floating folds of her pearly cloth, untying and wielding what looked like a chained whip. She swiped at him with it, the same rage that came before coming again. “And this is how I’ll do it!”


    The whip crashed against the wood right next to the pale one, before turning weightless in the wind, and got yanked it back. Vincenzo shot past her fragile body, taking a chunk of bark out of a faraway tree—but she didn’t even seem to notice. Fuck! I hoped she’d at least try to dodge, he thought. Or maybe even flinch.


    “At least a monster like you keeps his promises!” she laughed, throwing the iron again.


    He ducked away from the danger while firing at it, hitting it. It rattled yet did not sever, as bullets embedded themselves into the sturdy metal. What the hell is that thing made of?!


    Frey flew directly at him; a move he wasn''t ready for in the slightest as he instinctively aimed at her and barely resisted the urge to blow her away. She stalled—an easy task as she spread her wings to drag against the air—just before entering melee range, and flew around him faster than he could turn his body to follow.


    To him, she was a whirlwind! Barely able to catch sight of her at her speed, he crouched down. She flew by him and slashed at his wrists with the talons on her hands, before returning out of arm''s reach.


    Frey, faster than anything, cut his wrists so deeply that out of his hands went Heavy Metal. No, he thought. Frey, faster than anything, kicked it into the abyss. No!


    “Shit!” he yelled, as she started to circle him again. “You bitch!”


    The metal whip began to float along with her, completely surrounding him until she stopped suddenly and flew straight up; the iron, almost suspended in air, barely rose to follow, but instantly constricted around his neck, choking him as she lifted him up! She couldn’t raise him any higher than a few inches, but that was all that was needed.


    She flapped her long wings with a violent quickness. Sweat forced the cloth on her body and hair to stick tight against her skin as the pale one grunted in pain. Vincenzo thrashed around, trying to tear the metal away with both hands, but it dug into his skin too far to get a grip. She flew higher, forcing him to struggle on the tips of his boots.


    She was hanging him.


    He felt light, but not weightless. He strained to grab the chains above his neck to pull her down, only barely succeeding as she flapped her wings even harder.


    “He was my best friend!” she cried, tears landing on Vincenzo’s cheeks as she looked down. “And you killed him like some dog! You—!” She ate her words and grunted, yanking up. “Why did you do it?!”


    The chain tightened even more as his once pale complexion turned blue; his eyes started to bulge while a white foam oozed through his grit teeth… He was dying, and he knew it, and it hurt. A mix of emotions came into his heart: he was scared, scared that they had failed; he was sad, sad that he failed Plum and his fetish had fallen into the void; and he was angry, angry at the angel bitch hanging him to death. He was so angry he wanted to kill her. And he felt the emptiness throb, begging him to do it. And when he looked up, he saw his hallucination smiling down, as if it knew this was going to happen the entire time.


    “Man, she’s keeping her promise, isn''t she?” it said, taking a closer look at her depressed expression. “Looks like I gotta save us, then… Don''t worry about anything, I’m just gonna do what you wanna do.”


    It turned into a white fog and slowly entered his body: seeping into his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. Vincenzo thrashed around in pain one last time from the disgusting sensation before going completely limp, the tip of his boots slowly scraping against the bark, his hands still gripping his neck tight…


    11


    Frey flapped her wings furiously, wanting to make sure that the fiend was really dead. Is it over, she thought. Please, let it be over… But he sprung back to life with a small smile and started to tip toe over the edge, using the last of his fading mind to enact one final plan. She knew what he meant to do.


    “Damn you! Please!” she cried. “Just die!”


    He didn''t. Falling headfirst off the edge while grabbing onto the bark, spinning his body around in a jerking motion. Frey flew out below him and stopped flapping her wings, choking him with her own bodyweight, light as it was. Even still, he climbed back up with difficult gurgles squeaking out of his froth-covered mouth the entire way.


    He threw most of his body onto the branch before growing limp again… and faced the sky, going silent. Frey swung for… she didn''t even know how long. She just swung, choking what little life was left out of him, sobbing as she swayed. She killed him. She had killed a man. As bad a man as it was, it felt like a knife in her heart, and she cried for it. Eventually, she was satisfied. “I got you…” she muttered, as a few tears fell out of her bright green eyes. “I avenged you, Gult! I did it…” She let out silent sobs as she hung before regaining her composure, deciding to fly to the top, tired as anyone could be.


    He laid there motionless, his eyes still bulging, foam pouring out of gritted teeth, with two large hands clasped over his throat. The moon-man was really dead.


    “Serves you right…” she sniffed, but the words seemed hollow after seeing the body.


    She sat back down, facing away from the corpse, and buried her head into her knees. I’ve got no mana left, she thought, taking a small glance at the clock above her head. The silver arm completed its rotation, painting the green, red; it stopped at about three quarters full. Red was overtime. The time I borrowed is gonna catch up to me soon.


    “I’m sorry, Buta…” she muttered, remembering the fear in her eyes when she learned she’d have to fight alone. “I can’t save you right now…”


    “There''s no need,” someone said.


    Frey turned immediately while enveloping herself with an amber Glow, only for it to fizzle out just a second later. The moon-man stood over her with a large knife in his left hand—Gult’s knife— and a grin on his face and piercing black eyes; dead eyes, she thought. Evil eyes.


    “H-ho—?” she stuttered, struggling up.


    “I stabbed myself in the bottom of my neck and pried open the wound to breathe, and I hid the knife behind my back and covered my neck when you started to fly up. That way you’d have no idea of what I''ve done,” he explained, stepping closer. “It’s not complicated. Not complicated a bit.”


    She wanted to fully stand but his left hand put a stop to that, clenching her thin shoulder and pushing her back to the ground. It was like her body was caught in a vice, squeezed so hard she struggled to breathe.


    “Let go!” she yelled, digging her talons into his bicep and forearm.


    He ignored it and jerked her around, planting his boot on her back—an effortless maneuver that she and her thin muscles, small body, and hollow bones were powerless against—and pinning her to the dry bark. She thrashed, but it amounted to nothing. The gap in their strength was too pronounced. He was too big, and she was too small.


    “You''re pretty light!” he said, grabbing her right wrist and twisting it behind her back. It felt like it was going to snap. “I guess you have to be when you''re a bird-person… Ya’ know, flyin’ and all…”


    She groaned in pain as he raised her wrist further up along her back, sure that he was about to break it. Groans turned into wails.


    “You got some pretty nice back muscles, though.” For such a weak looking girl she, like all avilops, had a developed back ready to tense itself when flying. “Another thing that’d be nice to have as a bird-person…” he stated, replacing the boot on her back with his right knee.


    She gasped from the enormous weight crushing her lungs. Frey shut her mouth, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of her screams. I will not break, she promised. Frey wasn’t a prideful person, but for this one thing, she would be. She’d do it for Gult. She’d die like the warrior she wanted to become. I will not break! I will not scream! I will give you no satisfaction!


    “You know another thing that''s important to bird-people?”


    He paused as if waiting for an answer. None came. Only her own wheezing breath as she struggled to get air in.


    “Wings!” he said. “Without ‘em: all those traits that were supposed to make you light, like hollow bones and low-density muscles, are nothing but a death sentence. And, honestly, I’m planning on letting loose. You’re pretty enough—small, but pretty. And I can’t have you flyin’ away on me now, can I? No, I have to ground you.”


    Pressing the blade''s edge against the space that connected the feathery appendage to her back produced a small jolt as she felt the cold metal, and he laughed cruelly. Frey forgot how to be brave.


    “I guess you could tell where this is going!” he chuckled. “Now, as revenge for throwing my one and only fetish below: I’m going to take something of yours.”


    “Do it…” she whispered.


    The moon-man leaned closer while cupping his ear. “Hmm?”


    “DO IT!” she yelled, trying to face him as best she could. “Are you going to taunt me, or are you going to do it?! You already wo—”


    He pulled his arm back and released the weapon into her wing’s joint closest to her skin! She let out a cry of pain before biting down on the bark to muffle them… He chopped again, hearing something break, and kept going. Her world turned into one of blurred pain, the tears in her eyes making everything watery as she tried to hide her sobs.


    I will not break! I will not break! I will not break! I will not break! There was another crack! and she sobbed into the wood. I will not break! I-I will not—! Another crack.


    The only noise other than a fleshy squash and crack was her occasional yelp. Her right wing dangled off her now blood stained back, also stained by the red. She started to feel lightheaded, even more so than she had before… She couldn’t feel her wing anymore.


    With one final chop, it fell off. He caught it and dangled it in front of her emptying eyes, like an owner dangling a treat in front of their whimpering pet only to pocket it a moment later.


    Tears sprung as she remembered Gult. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… Gult… forgive me…”


    He threw the feathered appendage into the black, immediately starting on the next one, cracking into it as Frey forgot everything and screamed. She just wanted him to stop. Frey just wanted him to stop…


    12


    Cammo followed the hiddunson back to the end of Fall, nimbly hopping over the vast expenses of nothingness between platforms without a break. He could deal with Plum later. For now, he had to kill the one running from him. Suddenly, to his surprise and confusion, she stopped, her face shocked before turning to fury. He stopped on another branch to see what had stopped her, and when he did his heart sunk.


    “YOU!” her voice cracked. The moon-man turned to see a battle-scarred Buta standing above them on another branch, her right ear was sliced clean off and a non-negligible amount of blood leaked out of her thigh. But none of these things seemed to affect her when she saw her one and only daughter beaten and bloody. “Get away from her! You get away from her!”


    He chuckled. Slamming the weapon into her wing again to hear the crack of a broken bone. Frey let out a tortured wail before passing out completely…


    Buta exploded with unrelenting anger as she readied herself for another jump—but Cammo stopped her, slashing at her back and almost breaking her spine. She rolled away while bleeding. Vincenzo kept chopping.


    As Cammo faced him, he faced Cammo back. The emp’s face was full of disappointment and regret but was quickly replaced with shock, shock from the realization that the man torturing his enemy was not the same man he’d been sleeping next to the past couple of weeks. “W-who are you?”


    Vincenzo simply smiled—one that confirmed the emp’s fears—and went back to chopping… Someone else was wearing him.


    Cammo concentrated on the task at hand. Whatever that was, he could deal with it after. Lunging for her, another barrier parried his attack as she dodged. How? he thought, glancing behind. Oh, that’s how… Plum ran along her barriers with heavy breaths over the abyss and fell on a branch higher than them all.


    Vincenzo tossed her other wing aside which caught Plum’s attention. She stared in horror at his bloody body, and in horror at the other one below him…


    This is not something she needs to see! he thought. I need to put a stop to this! Cammo had no idea why, but a great urge to stop Vincenzo for all their sakes came over him, and he didn’t deal the killing blow. “You!” Cammo started, pointing at the injured Hiddunson recovering over the wood. “It''s your spell that''s doing this, now turn it off! NOW! Hurry!”


    She rose up, feeling the gash in her back. It wasn’t fatal, he knew, only painful. “Mind’s Tumor doesn''t work that way! There’s no turning it off! You have to kill him! He’ll try and kill you, too, so do it now!”


    She was useless, Cammo thought. A waste of life and space. “Plum, he’s not himself!” he shouted, keeping his gaze on the woman in front of him. “Don''t interfere! I can stop this now!” Killing her was the only way. If he did that the curse would most likely break, and then the girl under the moon-man would be saved.


    “Shut up!” Plum cried, wiping away her tears. “That''s probably a lie too!”


    “Sit back and let me protect you!” Cammo said, swinging for Buta again.


    Another barrier deflected it much to his frustration. Plum didn’t trust him. She had good reason not to, but now that unease was going to mess everything up. I’ve miscalculated again! He tried to kill the hiddunson, but another barrier allowed her the time to dodge. Damn it! He should’ve told her. He should’ve told her.


    13


    The thing in Vincenzo could feel her lightly squirm under his leg. “You lost a lot of blood, ya’ know. It''s pretty cool how you''re still awake,” he commented, resting the tip of the knife against the front of her neck. “But it looks like that''s it. Sorry, but I got more people to take care of… I don’t have time to make you my woman…”


    Frey was out of it, not even noticing the drop of blood falling from the tip of his knife. Her delicate hand reached for the lonely area on her back, only to feel small bony nubs where her wings once were.


    Vincenzo raised the dagger, ready to plunge it deep into the back of her head, when she turned to face him… The look on her face told him that she still wasn''t sober. She looked at him like he betrayed her, like they weren’t fighting to the death a minute before. She looked hurt.


    “Please…” she mumbled, her scaled hands reaching for what wasn’t there anymore. “I don’t wanna die… Please…” Her blank stare and confused expression did nothing but convey any sense of helplessness, just like the thing in him wanted.


    He should have killed her right then, stabbing her right between her breasts and into her heart—but he couldn’t. Times up, it thought, the hand it was trying to control shaking. That’s fine. I did what I wanted to do. And I’ll get another chance to do more. And next time… He licked his lips, black eyes on the girl’s breasts. Next time me and you are going to have a ball.


    That same shaking hand turned towards him and plunged the blade it held into his stomach, and he fell backwards with a groan, his eyes changing again…


    14


    Vincenzo didn''t know whether it was the pain or the shock of it, but he was back. The real him this time. He panted as the wound closed shut, flinging the bloody knife away. What the hell was that? he thought, facing the brown and gold crown above them. The time he spent in its control was short and recent, but he couldn’t remember a second of it, only the fact that the one calling the shots wasn’t him; he didn’t like it. In fact, he dreaded it. It was enough to make him shake. What did I do?


    Frey rose up and grabbed the loose chain of her whip, and staggered over to him. He raised his head slightly and stared at her with a look of remorse. His question had been answered. Oh, God. What have I done? She knelt down by his boot with a thud, obviously just as tired as him.


    “I never got the chance to tell him how much he meant to me… He was my brother… he protected me… and I never even got the chance to thank him for it…” she explained, fumbling the iron chains around his boot. “You took that from me…” she muttered vindictively. She rose and stumbled closer to the edge. She held the other end of the chain as tight as her tired body would allow. “I lost… but that doesn''t mean I’m going to lose alone…”


    Vincenzo sat up more, panicked. “Why would it need to end like that?” he asked, putting his weight on the back of his elbows as he bent up. “I’m too tired to fight you, and I’ll call off Cammo if you both decide never to come after us again! Come on! You’re not thinking straight, you’ve lost too much blood!”


    She turned towards him, more sad than spiteful. No words would work. She was going to kill herself. When Vincenzo started to rise, she scowled, and took another step towards the edge, another step towards the abyss…


    “No, wait…” he protested weakly. “Don’t do it… Don’t do it, Frey. You don’t need to do this…”


    Frey didn’t care. She stepped forward and fell off into the dark. Buta saw and screamed in agony as Vincenzo grabbed for the iron by his ankle. I can grab it! I can—


    Her fumbling made sure the knot wasn''t complete as it unraveled and fell into the void with her; he couldn’t grab it in time. She’d have been too light to pull him down with her anyways. What was she thinking?! She wasn’t, he thought. She wasn’t thinking.


    “Shit!” he said, staring over the edge where she fell. “Goddamnit! FUCK!”


    Panic started to enter his heart as he stared at her rapidly falling body… Something about the way she looked at him reminded him of a past mistake; he clenched his fist in impotent rage and started to contemplate his options. What could he even do? He couldn’t fly. And he made sure she couldn’t either… That was when his one option came.


    “Hey, Cammo!” he finally shouted, getting his attention. “Plum!”


    She looked over and smiled weakly when she saw his sane expression. He guessed he wasn’t looking sane before.


    “I’ve gotta keep my promise!” he shouted, giving her the most confident grin he could muster. “So, I’ll be back!” He stood up, squeezing the pouch tied to his waist. “Count on it!”


    Vincenzo Guerriero jumped after her, falling into the endless black that stretched down forever.


    15


    “Crazy bastard!’’ Cammo muttered, glancing below. He looked up to see Plum passed out on the wood. He wasn’t afraid for her. It was just simple over-exertion. The emp turned to the hiddunson and gripped his sword tight. “But at least it looks like it''s just me and you now…”


    The rock-skinned woman gave him one more look of contrition before turning to run. She was heading to Winter. Buta jumped away while Cammo chased until they reached the pair of bags the woman and her daughter had brought. She grabbed onto her pack as quickly as she could, wincing at every painful movement she had to make trying to save her own life, and pulled out a small black canister; she lit its pearly fuse and launched it towards him.


    He brought up his arms to block just as it exploded, the force of it slamming his back against the wood, scraping the back of his thin jacket! The stone on his arms saved him from any real damage, and he was thankful for his lame spell for once. She lit a cloth bag and chucked it at him before making her escape through the invisible barrier, disappearing into the next segment…


    Another bomb! Cammo thought, and threw his belly against the back, covering the back of his head and waited… and waited… and waited… The bag finally caught fire completely and he got back up. He’d been fooled.


    “What a mess…” Cammo muttered, placing his sword back in its sheath. “That could’ve gone better… Should’ve gone better…! Plum, that…!” He closed his eyes and let a deep breath out. For him, now wasn’t the time to get pissed. He needed to make sure Plum was okay.


    16


    The forest was silent on his trek back; without the constant grunts and shotgun blasts it seemed serene, and he didn’t like that a bit. To him, silence after a battle meant death. Or, at the very least, a costly victory. He thought it felt like the latter. What the hell was that idiot thinking? he asked himself. Jumping like that… I told him what was down there! That selfish…! He finally reached the area and jumped on the branch where Plum fell unconscious… but he didn’t find what he had walked all the way back for.


    “What?” he muttered, looking around.


    She wasn''t there. Am I in the right place? He whirled around and stopped, spotting the blood of the bird-girl and Vincenzo on the branch below him. I am! I’m in exactly the right spot! Did she wake up? Run off or something? His heart almost stopped. Did she fall?! He shook his head. That’s not it… She was too close to the center, and the suns too bright for any of the abyss creatures to think of her as a meal… But… where is she?


    “Plum?!” he yelled, cupping both hands around his mouth. “Talk to me?! Where are you?! PLUM?!”


    But the forest was silent