I had roamed far in my latest hunt. Traveling alone, I’d spent several nights out on the plains, well beyond the watchful eyes of the Koseki guards. Now, I was making my way back at an unhurried pace, still many miles from the sprawling walls of Koseki—whose towers I couldn’t yet see over the wide sea of grass. My thoughts, as I walked with a carbine tucked under my arm, probably circled around the usual: tracks in the soft mud along the river’s edge, fresh signs of a large predator stalking the reeds, or the direction of the wind carrying the musk of some hidden beast.


    Whatever I was pondering, it all scattered the moment I heard a piercing scream. I spun around and saw a pale figure sprinting headlong across the grass: Aiko, daughter of Zan. She was fleeing from one of those giant carnivorous birds—the orcs sometimes call them “thunderbirds.” Each stands nearly ten feet tall, vaguely like an ostrich, but with a curved beak almost as long as my arm, sharp as a scimitar, and feet taloned enough to tear a man in two.


    The monstrous bird was gaining with every step, and I knew there was no way for me to close the distance in time. Cursing under my breath, I raised my carbine, aiming as steadily as I could while Aiko and the bird both bobbed in my line of sight. A shot to its huge body might also catch her. That left only a snap shot at its bobbing head and the slender neck behind it.


    By luck more than skill, my bullet struck true. As soon as the carbine cracked, the bird’s head jerked backward like it had slammed into an invisible wall. In a flurry of thrashing wings, it staggered wildly and collapsed, dead by the time it hit the ground.


    At that same instant, Aiko fell as though she, too, had been struck. I sprinted to her side and found her shaken but unhurt, just trembling with shock and exhaustion. I made sure she hadn’t been sliced by beak or claw, then turned to confirm the thunderbird was good and dead—blood oozed from a neat hole in its skull.


    Returning to Aiko, I frowned. “Are you crazy?” I demanded, more harshly than I intended. “What possessed you to wander this far from Koseki? These plains eat people alive.”


    She didn’t say a word, just stared at me with eyes full of hurt and anger. Feeling a little guilty for barking at her, I knelt by her side.


    “You’re not like the rest of the orc women,” I said, keeping my tone lower. “Everyone says you’re stubborn, always out on your own, but this is suicide. Why risk your neck like that?”


    She just shrugged, her dark eyes smoldering. “What do you plan on doing now?”


    “Easy,” I said. “I’m taking you back to the city.”


    Her scowl deepened. “And then Father will beat me. But guess what—I’ll leave again. And I’ll keep leaving, over and over.”


    I shook my head. “Aiko, there’s nowhere else to go out here but wilderness. You saw what almost happened. That bird nearly gutted you.”


    She lifted her chin defiantly. “Maybe I want to be devoured.”


    I squinted at her. “Then why’d you run?”


    “Survival instinct’s tough to ignore,” she muttered. “But it doesn’t mean I want to keep living this way.”


    I felt out of my depth—like trying to talk sense into a suicidal friend back in Tokyo. “What is it you hate so much about life in Koseki?” I asked. “From where I stand, the women there look pretty content.”


    Her gaze drifted away, over the endless grasslands. “Food, drink, and sleep aren’t everything. Animals manage that much just fine.”


    I raked a hand through my hair. On Earth, I’d heard plenty of philosophical types rave on about craving meaning in their lives, but it was odd to hear those sentiments from an orc of Kigen. Aiko’s voice softened, as if she spoke to herself more than me:


    “Life’s too jagged for me. I don’t fit the puzzle. I keep cutting myself against the edges. I look for something that doesn’t exist—and never did.”


    An uneasy feeling gnawed at me. I gently gripped her hair, tilting her face up so she had to meet my eyes. “What changed? You never seemed this restless before.”


    She gave me a long, pained look. “It was rough enough before you showed up. Now it’s worse.”


    I stared, baffled. “Me? Why?”If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    But she sidestepped the question with her own: “Kai, is our world so narrow? Our men kill beasts, fight each other, and chug ale. Is that really all there is?”


    I let out a frustrated breath. “Listen,” I said, “on Earth I met folks who hunted bigger dreams. Most of them wound up more miserable than happy. I ended up on the run from the law. I can’t say they found ‘contentment,’ but I sure never expected to find a place as…straightforward as Kigen.”


    She pulled her face away, eyes down. “I thought you might be different—milder, gentler. But you’re exactly like the rest. You kill for sport, you brawl, and you celebrate half the night.”


    “Everyone in Koseki does,” I pointed out.


    Her laugh was sharp and humorless. “And so I don’t belong. I’d be better off dead.”


    A stab of shame hit me. I’d assumed a Kijin woman would take all this in stride; I never expected an orc-born girl to feel trapped. The fact I had no graceful response only heightened my discomfort.


    “Come on,” I said at last, “I’m getting you back home.”


    She gave a small, indifferent shrug. “Sure. Then you can watch Father whip me again.”


    Something in me snapped. “He won’t,” I said flatly. “If Zan so much as raises a hand, I’ll snap his spine.”


    Her eyes widened, and for a moment we were very close—my arm somehow already around her waist, our faces inches apart, her breath catching in her throat. Another heartbeat and…I’m not entirely sure what might have happened. But then her face went white. She screamed, her gaze fixed on something above and behind me, even as the air filled with a sudden beating of wings.


    I sprang around to see the sky swarming with dark silhouettes—Karasu, the winged raiders of Kigen. I’d heard the rumors but half dismissed them as myth. No one would doubt their existence now. They were tall and rangy, ebon-skinned like living shadows, with great, bat-like wings extending from their shoulders, and each wielded a short, curved blade. They wore only loincloths, their scowling faces partially hidden by straggling black hair.


    I barely managed to raise my carbine when the first one dove at me, sword lifted high. I swung the weapon like a club, smashing his skull in a spray of blood. Instantly, four or five more Karasu swooped in, their blades dancing silver arcs through the air. The beating of wings was thunderous, but ironically, it cramped their formation. Whirling the splintered carbine barrel in a circle, I knocked aside a slash and caught a second Karasu with a glancing blow that left him dazed on the ground.


    Then I heard Aiko’s scream—an anguished, piercing cry. Spinning on my heel, I saw the flock hurtling skyward once more, retreating south. One of them had seized Aiko in his arms, carrying her aloft as if she weighed nothing at all. She twisted helplessly, screaming my name, and I could only stand and watch while the Karasu soared faster than any man on foot could hope to run. In seconds, they were black specks in the distance.


    Rage and horror boiled inside me. Then I remembered the unconscious Karasu at my feet. He was stirring, blood seeping from a wound on his temple. I was ready to bash his skull in right then—until an idea sprang to mind, fueled by how effortlessly the abductors had carried Aiko away.


    I seized him by the hair, hauled him upright, and pressed my dagger to his ribs. He was as tall as I was, lean but with corded muscle. His slanted, merciless eyes regarded me with reptilian menace.


    “Koseki orcs told me your kind speak the same language,” I growled. “Good. You’re going to fly me after your pals.”


    He gave a mocking snort. “I can’t carry you.”


    “Wrong answer,” I muttered, hooking an arm tight around his neck from behind. Leaping onto his back, I clamped my legs around his waist, letting the dagger’s point dig into the side of his torso. “Get airborne,” I snarled, “or I carve you into slices.”


    With no choice, he spread those broad wings and took off. The ground receded beneath me, the wind buffeting my face. If I hadn’t been furious for Aiko’s sake, I might have actually marveled at the sensation.


    Far ahead, I glimpsed the other Karasu, already just specks in a darkening sky. Despite my threats, they vanished from sight within minutes. But I forced my captive southward, knowing from every rumor I’d heard that the Karasu laired somewhere in that direction, on the grim fortress-rock called Kuroishi, in a land known as Karasuta near the River Yoko. My best bet was to chase them all the way.


    The Karasu grudgingly gave me good speed, though I occasionally reminded him of the dagger at his side whenever his wings slowed. Mile after mile of grassland blurred beneath us, then we passed over a forest that grew thicker and taller than any I’d seen yet in Kigen. By late afternoon, the shadows had begun to lengthen.


    As sunset neared, we came upon a patch of ancient ruins rising from the plains, smoke drifting upward—some camp or settlement among those crumbling walls? I demanded to know if his companions were waiting there, but my captive only glowered, refusing to speak.


    We were flying low over the forest canopy, close enough to glimpse the creatures below. In a narrow clearing, I saw a giant, unicorn-like beast—taller than a bull bison—beset by a pack of hyena-like predators. Mangled bodies lay strewn about the glade, evidence of how ferociously the unicorn-thing had defended itself. Just as I looked, it speared the last snarling hyena on its single horn and tossed it aside like a broken doll.


    Fascinated, I must have loosened my grip a fraction, because my Karasu captive seized his chance. With a violent buck, he flung me off. Suddenly I was tumbling through empty air. I crashed onto the thick, loamy earth with a force that drove the wind from my lungs…and found myself face-to-face with the maddened beast, its horn lowered like a charging spear.


    Dazed, I tried to fling myself aside, grabbing at its horn with one hand while stabbing upward with my dagger in the other. A thunderous impact cracked against my head. All went black.


    And in that instant, the world of Kigen spun away into darkness.