《Death Theory》


 part one // life begins

    SUBJECT // ''keyless'' eli hart // valkan bagman //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // shadowed //


    She hasn''t seen me. Not yet. I don''t buy the winsome-innocent-in-a-blue-dress act for a second, she''s got something going on behind those big green eyes. Part of the reason I''m following her. Part of the reason I''m keeping my knives loose in their sheaths. Not much going on in this part of the city, not at this hour, sun losing the sky, fruit sellers packing up, tall-hatted diplomats hurrying to catch their whores. First in first served, that''s the law around here. Part of the reason I''m in a hurry. That girl''s got at least three others on her. Need to get to her first, or I''m in for the kind of trouble you do whatever it takes to dodge. I''m closest, at least. Always been good at that. Getting close. Some say that ain''t the way to do. I figure, long as you can handle it, long as it doesn''t stop you doing what needs be done, well ... what''s the harm?


    She''s into an alley quicker than I would''ve credited her¡ªmore than she seems, but what isn''t in this city. I wait till the last moment to follow, give the goon on my heels something to wake him up. Half-glance back to catch the twitch of a reaction on his face, that moment of choice; he can follow me now and give the game away, or go around the block and keep his mask. Someone must be paying him proper, because he doesn''t even slow. Who''s behind that one, Don Scullion maybe? Shouldn''t have done that thing with his daughter. Then again, see a chance, take a chance.


    The alley''s dim, yellow stone gone brown. Green-eyes-blue-dress isn''t in sight. Not a problem. These alleys aren''t as twisted as they look, seems like you got a dozen choices but really¡ª


    "I don''t like being stalked."


    So she got the drop on me. So she got a knife to my neck. So her accent''s got a touch of that Stiltian twang, means she grew up hard, means she won''t think twice about cutting the throat of some shifty-eyed stranger been following her¡ª


    "Kayla, my name''s Eli Hart. I was hired to protect you."


    Just enough truth in that to stay her hand, at least till she gets the whole story out of me. Can''t see her, but I can hear her thinking. Smell her perfume, too. Add the pretty dress, add the makeup, add the way she walked down that street like some kind of lady and you get a girl running as far as she can from the swamps and blood she grew up in. She doesn''t want to be hard.


    One more thing. Knife ain''t to my throat. It''s to the side.


    "You know there''s others on you?" I say. "Three at least."


    "Four counting you," she murmurs, her breath on the back of my neck. "So I should kill you now and move on."


    "Sure," I say. "And your daddy''d be proud of you for it."


    Hesitation. Perfect. If I had the time I could talk her around. Problem is, don''t got the time. Need to make a move before¡ª


    "Well, well, well. Is this the first time I''ve seen you so compromised, Hart? And perhaps the last, judging by the look on that young lady''s face."


    I hear the girl take a sharp breath. Just took one myself, if I''m honest. Didn''t expect Scullion to show up personal. Especially not here and now. Must''ve really pissed him off. Looks like he''s alone but that''s a lie. He''s got at least a dozen goons with him. Just can''t see ''em.


    "Okay," I mutter, to the girl. "This just got serious¡ª"


    There''s the pulse of an impact and red shadows engulf Scullion. Things get real dark real fast, can''t see the alley, can''t see the sky. Feel closed in. Some kind of magic, gotta be, Scullion''s cursed? Never heard that, didn''t think him the type¡ªnah, not him, one of his guys. The knife''s gone from my neck but I can still smell that perfume, appledew and honey.


    Right. Because now''s the time to be thinking about how good a girl smells.


    She ain''t here, I know that. Not close anyway. Nothing around, except maybe something moving in the darkness. Big and slow and red. Can''t make out details. What the hell is this? Some kind of shifting maybe, getting shoved from one place to another, heard ''bout that from that guy, what the hell was his name¡ªbut yeah, again, time and a place, Eli, time and a place. You been through weird crap before. You''ll get through weird crap again.


    "Hello. You have been chosen."


    Woman''s voice, not the girl, older maybe, Amarantic accent? Dunno, got weird echoes to it, can''t tell where it''s coming from¡ª


    "Aren''t you lucky."


    Can''t see anything behind, nothing to the sides, too dark, just that big red thing in front of me, what the hell is that?


    "Now I don''t wish to panic you, but you''re in quite the precarious situation."


    Starting to get a real bad feeling.


    "Would that it could be otherwise."


    Not that I was feeling good about it before.


    "So it''s kill or be killed, I''m afraid."


    Yeah, this is bad.


    "I wonder, will you be a sacrifice? Or will you be a survivor?"


    This is so real bad.


    "Anyway. Welcome to Death Theory."


    Knives out of sheaths, hard in my hands. Something''s coming. Not gonna get me off guard.


    "Today, your life begins."


    Rush of hot damp wind and there''s stone under my feet, dull grey light, some black thing scuttling forward¡ª


    "Nuh!"


    Crack and squelch as my knife crunches through¡ªinsect, some kind of beetle, bigger than my damn head, where the hell is this? Muur? Stilt? Sure as hell ain''t Valk! Don''t matter, just get the knife out of that stinking beetle, white goo sticking to the blade and a stench like rotting weeds, no time to wipe because there''s more of the damn things¡ªand other stuff, feels like I''m in mist but I can see okay, seems like it''s clearing, there''s a wind blowing hot and wet and hard. Lot of shadows around, some big, some not so big. People? Dunno. Can''t tell. Can''t assume. None of ''em close to me. Good, time to think, time to look around. Insects scuttling past my feet but they ain''t biting or nothing. Just moving. No sign of the girl, can''t even smell her. There''s some big tall building way the hell over there, whole place feels open but there''s walls or something like a giant bowl, big broken steps and big broken pillars, whole place got a feel to it like I dunno, like somewhere I been¡ªWyrne. That damn monster arena.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    My ears pop with a burst of hard noise, didn''t even realise I couldn''t hear, now it''s beetles clicking and steel on steel and steel on flesh and screaming from everywhere. Yeah, this is an arena all right. ''Death Theory'', but what the hell''s that supposed to mean?


    Doesn''t matter. That monster arena in Wyrne had seats all around but there were like stairways, trapdoors, ways to get monsters up to the fighting part. Could be the smart direction is down. Gotta move anyway. Keep moving, keep thinking. Dunno why I''m here and dunno what the deal is but hell, could say that about any damn day of my fucking life.


    Big shadows that way, lot of shadows that way, just one over this way but it''s small, crouched over, maybe a girl ... maybe THE girl. So she''s here too, huh? Might just come out of this on top. Got a reputation, after all. Need a job done right? Eli Hart''s your man, every time.


    She''s on her knees. Can''t handle this place? Nuh, that ain''t it. There''s some guy on the ground, Amarantic soldier judging by the armour. Wounded. She''s helping ''em?


    Heh. Wrong again.


    "Stay back there," she says, before turning those big green eyes on me. Long thin knife in her hand, freshly bloodied. Guy on the ground is already dead. "I don''t know what this is but if it''s kill or be killed I''m not taking the second option."


    "Kayla, look¡ª"


    "Don''t use my name," she says, slow rising, knife ready. "You said you were hired to protect me but that''s a lie. There''s no one who cares enough about me to pay for my protection."


    There''s a fresh wave of screams and a fresh wave of insects around our feet. Kayla keeps her eyes on me. Doesn''t so much as glance down. Gotta keep upping my estimation of this one.


    "Okay, real talk," I say, raising my voice over the screams behind me. "I wasn''t hired. Just got asked. Woman by the name of Demesne."


    Kayla''s jaw clenches at the name. I resist the urge to glance back. Those screams are getting closer.


    "And it wasn''t protection, exactly. More like retrieval."


    "I am not going back to her." Kayla takes a step towards me, knife raised. "I am NOT going back to her."


    "So maybe we figure something out. Any case, seems like we got a thing to get through before any of that matters."


    Kayla glances past me then turns and runs. I launch into a sprint without looking back, my boots haven''t even hit the ground before I hear high giggling behind me followed by a scream, don''t know what the hell''s back there and I don''t wanna know, just gotta run, just¡ª


    "Ugh¡ª"


    Flash of light and heat and grey sky and grey stone as I roll and roll and roll, gods-damned demon-sucking witch-licking cursed bitch, that''s what''s behind me, a filthy little bandaged psychopath with wide eyes and a happy grin who traded hell knows what for some kind of fire magic. I''m scrabbling back as she raises her charred hands but can''t see an exit, too close, too open, can''t do nothing but watch as a dozen dark shards thud into her side, throwing her across the stone in a shower of gore. I''m up before I can look to see where the damn things came from, doesn''t matter, got given a chance, doesn''t matter what from, waiting around to see what happens next gets you dead¡ª


    "MORE! MORE!"


    Too damn close, shouting came from the left but I can''t see nothing, this damn shifting mist, just shadows and flashes of flame and lightning and aether sparks and whatever, cursed powers, could be I''m the only damned soul here who ain''t got a curse¡ªsomething big there, swear it''s stuffing a body into a sack¡ªjust keep running, dunno where to but sometimes just away is enough¡ªglimpse of colour in the grey, bright blue, can''t risk calling but she can''t run in that dress, not proper, not like I''m running and oh hope and truth am I running. I follow her as she switches directions, head to the left because there''s something coming from the right. Hear it more than see it, thudding footsteps, something big, something fast, Kayla''s ahead but that dress is slowing her down, I''m gonna overtake her in maybe a dozen steps but whatever''s chasing us is gonna do the same to me¡ªstill, don''t gotta be faster than the bear, yeah? And what do I owe her? She''s a job, gonna have to face up to Demesne if I go back without her but hell, way things are going I''ll be lucky to get that chance.


    I draw level with Kayla, hear her heavy breathing, catch a whiff of that damn perfume. Mist is clearing again, we''re near the edge of the arena, there''s pillars and high walls and maybe a way out, just gotta get away, just gotta buy that chance¡ªcatch a glimpse of the thing behind, a hulking mottled brown monster. Lizardman maybe, like you hear stories about down in Muur. Kind of wish I hadn''t seen it. Kind of wish I hadn''t heard so many damn stories. Stuff like how they''ll rip your leg off then bandage the wound, keep you dying slow ''cause they like their meat fresh.


    Yeah. Too many stories.


    The pillars are close, just a couple dozen metres away, big wall behind ''em but maybe a chance, the thing behind us is fast enough in a straight line but it''s big and heavy, like them new steam carriages, speedy as you like until they gotta turn. I catch myself grinning as I pull ahead of Kayla, glance back just in time to see her gasp and fall, tripped on that stupid dress. See the lizardman hiss and leap, see it come crashing down with those fucking claws. See the girl roll and strike at its leg, see her draw a spurt of thick red blood.


    Thing doesn''t slow. Doesn''t hiss. Doesn''t do nothing but stamp on Kayla''s arm. She screams but she ain''t out of it, lost her knife and that hand ain''t doing nothing for a while but she''s rolling again, dodging the thing''s heavy claws. I realise I ain''t running, just standing and watching as the thing goes after her, she''s trying to get up into a run but it ain''t happening, she ain''t got the chance and that''s all she needs, just a second of distraction¡ª


    I hear her scream again as the lizard stomps down on her back. Didn''t kill her. Maybe didn''t even break anything. Just keeping her pinned as it crouches, reaches down to get her by the arm¡ª


    "Hell with it," and I lose my left knife in a vicious toss as I run towards the hulking lizard¡ªhilt whacks it in the back of the head, I draw a replacement as it turns towards me. Get my first good look at the thing, half again my height, arms twice as thick, big lizard head and spiky lizard teeth, naked but for a couple of bright blue feathers. It''s staring at me with vicious little slitted eyes, tongue flicking in and out, big fuck off tail twitching in time. Still got the girl pinned. She ain''t moving, can''t see her face, just gotta hope she ain''t dead or knocked out, gotta hope she can take the chance I''m buying her¡ª


    The thing takes a swipe at me. The thing''s quick. But I''m just that little bit quicker. There''s an inch of air between its claws and my stomach. Not so much between my blade and its arm. The lizard''s second strike comes closer, but just barely. This time I leave my blade in its wrist, little present, little reminder not to fuck with Eli Hart. Manage to get another knife out before it lunges again, but I guessed right and it ain''t about to give up its prize ''less it has to, keeps one foot on the girl, means I can dance about it and give it a nick here and a scratch there as I please. Big thing like that got a lot of blood, but it''s gonna bleed out eventually. Lesson I learned way back. You can be strong and that''s all well and good, but if you''re quick and if you''re patient there ain''t a fight you can''t win.


    Unless you''re outnumbered.


    Hear it come up behind me. No time to do anything but hurl myself to the side, catch a claw to the arm that spins me into the ground. I throw my weight into a hard roll, lose both my knives but come out rightside up, crouched and panting and staring at these two bloody things. They ain''t got proper mouths or lips or nothing but I swear the dirty fuckers are grinning at me.


    Risk a half-glance to the side. Pillars are close. Maybe close enough to make it, if I run now. If I run.


    One knife left, old and thin and sharp as vinegar. They let me draw it. The one with its foot on the girl gives her a little weight, squeezes a cry out of her. Least I know she''s still breathing. Least I know this ain''t for nothing. I''m losing some blood where that claw caught me but my arm''s working okay. Ain''t feeling faint. Ain''t seeing spots. Just hurt enough to be at my sharpest. Good place to be.


    I''m in close before the damn things can blink, already dodging as I slash, feel my lucky knife slice through flesh, these things are big and scaly but¡ª


    "Uh."


    Lucky escape, first one came at me, left the girl, didn''t expect that, felt it clip my arm but that''s all it was, just a clip, doesn''t even hurt. They come at me again but I''m already away, stepping back and tripping, unbalanced, something''s wrong, something''s so damned wrong¡ª


    My arm''s off. My damned arm''s off and I can''t even¡ªdidn''t even¡ªcan''t find my damn knife, last one, bad luck to lose ''em all, never happened before. Dunno why but I''m flat on my back. No time to be lying around but I can''t get up. Something heavy on my chest keeping me down. I try to cough but can''t. Can''t see the girl. Can''t see nothing. Can''t remember¡ªnuh, no, can''t forget

 part one.2

    SUBJECT // avon averline // valkan diplomat //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // clouded //


    Well. That''s it for him, I suppose. Rather pointless end but I suppose that''s the reward brainless heroics gets you. He could have run, could have joined me here in the relative safety of these pillars, but no. Shame about the girl, a scrubbed up Stiltian lass is a rare treat indeed. She''s still alive, surprisingly. Screaming, but alive. One of the lizards is dragging her away by the leg. Heaven only knows what manner of hideous fate is in store for her. It might be nice to dwell on the subject but best not to linger. Move while they''re distracted, that''s the ticket.


    "Not witch, not demon, not human. Nothing. Not witch, not demon, not human. Nothing."


    And drag this poor babbling beauty with me, I suppose. I don''t know what it is but I do tend to attract this manner of hanger-on. In civilised environs it''s a nuisance, but in this situation I can see certain potential advantages. Ah, here''s the wall, the edge of the arena. I haven''t much of an eye for stonework but it seems passable enough, especially given how damnably ancient this place appears. Oh but look at me, focusing on the silly little minor details in the midst of a life or death situation, such a terrible habit but one I''ve found impossible to break. I suppose a lifetime of self indulgence has its price.


    "The walls rise up but not to the sky." The girl lifts her gaze, eyes widening at the stone roof above us. "Not to the sky," she murmurs. "Not to the sky."


    Fortunate to be beautiful, I suppose.


    "Come along now, love," I say, taking her arm. "We''ll follow the wall and pray for providence."


    Glance to the right as we move, swiftly and surely. Can''t see much but that odd grey mist, doesn''t seem to intrude past the pillars. Magic possibly, or some quirk of architecture. Aha, but here, an exit of sorts¡ªEnjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    "They see," the girl says, and indeed they do, a pair of the lizards stomping in past the pillars. Can''t help but note that they must duck their heads to squeeze in, perhaps just as alien to this place as we puny humans are? Of course I''m running as I contemplate this, past crumbled stone and brilliant green moss and disturbingly oozey red vines, the girl to her credit keeping pace. Rather sensible clothing, now that I care to notice, perhaps a barmaid or seamstress of the less interesting variety.


    Quick glance back and yes, of course they''re following, having trouble with the gap but dogged in their determination. Perhaps the wrong word there, ''dogged'', seems unfitting for such a pair of cold-blooded lizards¡ªif indeed lizardmen are cold-blooded, never bothered to learn that particular factoid. Amazing the things that become so suddenly relevant, in such a life as mine.


    "To the left," the girl says, and in a change of pace it''s now she who is tugging at my arm. Can''t say I put up much resistance, although as soon as I comply with her direction she once again lapses into submission. Seems we''re in some manner of jungle, the stench of it appallingly compelling. Reminiscent of the lower (and to my mind superior) class of Wyrnic seed den, all thick and warm and bittersweet. One could rather enjoy oneself here, I suppose, if one knew what to ingest, smoke and/or inject. And of course if one were not being pursued by a pair of troublesome lizards, whose continued refusal to give us up as too much bother is as baffling as it is wearying.


    "Within the earth," the girl says, slipping my grasp and disappearing into a tangle of roots. Adequate hiding place? Intimate, in any case. Rather earthy and mucky and with a catch of rot, but what is one to do? I nestle in, close enough to feel her heartbeat. Cosy, at the least, our new home beneath a tree.


    Outside the lizardmen roam. You''d expect them to blend in with nature, wouldn''t you? Well I would anyway. ''Huge but silent'' but no, ''huge and stompy noisy snuffling beasts'' is more in line with reality.


    Still. Makes it easy to tell when they''ve moved away¡ªand a high scream tells me they''ve found a less canny victim. Good good.


    "Well then," I murmur. "What are we to do now?"


    "Not witch," the poor mad girl replies, her breath warm on my face, her eyes bright even in the gloom. "Not demon. Not human. Nothing. We are breathing!"


    I pat her hand and permit myself a sigh.


    "Of course we are."

 part one.3

    SUBJECT // anne oakheart // amarantic florist //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // damp //


    I don''t want to scream. I don''t want to be frozen. I want to wake up and see my husband''s face and hear my son''s voice. I don''t want this dirty little Muurian girl to be shouting at me. I don''t want her filthy hand on me, I don''t want her stench in my nostrils. I don''t want to be running behind her. I don''t want to be chased. I want to be home. I want to apologise to Mr Higgs, it''s not important, I should have listened, I want to smile at Fox when she walks by, I want to close my eyes and let the flowers fill me with each deep breath.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    I don''t want any of this to be happening to me.


    I don''t want my arm to hurt or my legs to burn.


    I don''t want to be so horribly tired.


    I don''t want to run.


    I don''t want anything.

 part one.4

    SUBJECT // briya thorn // muurian scout //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // guttering //


    Give it a moment before leaving her for dead. If she''s gonna just stand there and scream then there''s no helping her. Still, suppose I did give it that moment. Don''t know if that''s stupidity on my part. Hard to tell sometimes.


    Crunching behind me, screams have stopped at least. Slow ''em down a bit maybe, unless there''s a whole bunch. Lizardmen, who''d credit it? First time seeing one, though everyone''s got stories. What was his name, what was it, Patrick or something, with the lips, he reckoned he''d seen a couple.


    Right. Bit of breathing room. Time to have a bit of a look and a bit of a figure, standing snug up against this good big tree. Nice and still. Nice and quiet. Story is that lizards can''t see too good. Not so sharp on the old hearing neither. Movement, that''s the one. Your footsteps on the ground and your fleet-running shape. That''s what they''re chasing.


    Eyes up, check above, we got twisty-turny branches and a low grey sky, nothing moving up there. Eyes down, check around, we got paths through these ugly things, not even with bark, just thick green vines all twining and twisting until they''ve got themselves in the shape of a tree. Paths, yeah. Someone''s made these. Long time ago maybe, but they''re sure as hell not natural. Where is this, Wyrne? Stilt? Don''t so much matter I guess, except if I''m getting home I need a direction to aim at.


    "¡ªcome this way. Dunno. Hey Abe, anything?"


    "Nuh! Heh, nuh!"


    Not just the lizards you gotta be wary of, don''t forget that, Briya girl. Just you nestle down in the muck under this tree, hidden by the vine roots, nice and still, nice and quiet, they''ll move on soon enough, just got to squat and wait and lock eyes with some fella got the exact same idea over the way.


    "Shit on it. Wanna head back? Might be pickings left at the arena."


    "Heh, sure."


    Two talking but there''s three of them, Stiltian or I''m a mistfly, heading past on the next path over. Fella in the tree roots is staring at me like some kind of fool. Looks like he ain''t used to the mud on his face. Looks like he belongs to a city. And now he''s proving himself the fool he looks by getting up out of the roots¡ªhe''s still got my eye so I give a short sharp shake of my head, just that before settling in nice and still again.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    He stops. Can see the thoughts going through his pretty little head and in that moment I know exactly his type.


    I turn my head away, keep him in the corner of my eye. Watch him sink back into the muck of the roots. Hm. Haven''t heard the Stiltian trio again which is either good or ... yeah, bad¡ª


    "Well, well. What''ve we got¡ª"


    He''s tall and bald and stops talking when I put my knife through his neck. His little mate''s staring so I shove my fingers in his eyes then open his throat. One more, huge and broad and pale and hunched like he knows what he''s doing but holding back, judging me as a threat just as I''m judging him as a threat. He''s got weight on me, and height and strength and reach with the sturdy club in his left hand. I wipe blood and muck from my face, away from my eyes. Eyes. His are grey as slate.


    "Just as soon walk away from this," I say, and he doesn''t say anything but his fingers clench tight around that club. His mates are both down, gurgling their last into the dirt. "What''s your name?"


    "Large," he murmurs, before a slim blade pushes through his chest. He stares down and I spring forward, past him, to the city fool should''ve kept down in the muck under the roots because now I gotta open his throat¡ª


    "Stop no dear goddess fucking no!" he squeals, and they would''ve been piss poor last words if it wasn''t for Large. Big man''s still got fight in him, enough to snap the sword, shiny flimsy blade still sticking through him as he turns and roars and grasps at his guts as they spill from his belly, courtesy of my knife. I step back and back again, eyes flicking between fool and Large, fool gaping and gasping, Large got this sad slack look on his face as he goes down, no dignity in it, tries to catch himself on one knee but he ain''t got the strength so it''s on his side then tumbling into the muck of the roots, his last seconds spent blubbering into the mud.


    So it''s just fool, still staring down at the broken hilt of his useless sword as I open his neck.


    Least that was the plan.


    Seems it''s a day for foolishness.


    Because I didn''t even consider that he might not be alone.


    So now I''m just standing, still as I can.


    "Aha," fool says. "Perhaps an introduction? Avon Averline, special ambassador for cultural cooperation. The young lady holding a knife to your throat, on the other, is as much a mystery to me as she is to you."


    "Uncursed," comes a breath on my neck. "Ever uncursed."


    "Briya Thorn," I say, clear as I can. "If we''re gonna talk it''s gonna be without a blade to my throat."


    Fool raises his hands and his eyebrows. "Perhaps if you could?"


    There''s a moment, then the girl behind me pulls the knife away.


    So I turn and put mine in her heart.

 part one.5

    SUBJECT // gideon fate // citizen accountant //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // dull //


    Oh gods, more killing, more death, bodies everywhere and that poor girl¡ªshe doesn''t make a sound, just drops to the ground like a bundle of rags, and the other girl, the awful dirty girl who killed them all, she''s going to kill the gentleman and then me if she sees me, so why am I still standing here?


    Because death is everywhere, in every direction, and doing anything will get me killed. Maybe I''ve already given up. Maybe I just can''t tear my gaze away.


    "Now now!" the gentleman says, hands raised, as the awful girl advances on him with her knife dripping blood. "I''m harmless and useful!"


    "How," the girl growls, still advancing so slow and deliberate and terrifying.


    "You''re Muurian a scout lived your life in the mist¡ª" the gentleman''s talking so fast I can barely understand him but it''s working, the awful girl is slowing "¡ªfirst scout I''d wager with loss in your past alone in the world with survival your watchword and, and you''re not just Muurian, you''re Zanthic¡ª"


    "How the fuck you know about Zanth," the girl says. She''s stopped.


    "Ambassador," the gentleman says, gesturing to himself. "I''ve been everywhere on this cursed continent¡ªif indeed this is still Est. I''m a superb judge of character, highly skilled at reading people and rather a smooth talker as you''re grudgingly accepting¡ªBriya, my life is yours to dispose of as the whim takes you but I am worth more alive, please understand."


    "What about her?" the girl Briya says, jerking her head at the small sad corpse behind her. "You even care I just ended her?"Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    "Caring," the gentleman says, "is a vice I have seldom indulged."


    Briya grunts. "Fuck it then. First sign of anything and you''ll be tasting steel." Her mouth twitches. "Please understand."


    Then her blank eyes flick to me and I piss myself.


    But she doesn''t kill me.


    She just turns and runs and she''s gone.


    It doesn''t make sense until I hear the heavy footsteps behind me.


    I add shit to the piss and run like a man being chased by reptilian death in a nightmare world, towards anything other than what''s behind me. Some horrible winged insect slaps against my face and maybe I make a noise or maybe I''m already past that. Maybe my mind has no part to play in this. There''s a scream from somewhere, shrill and sharp and any other day it''d be the worst thing I ever heard but here and now I feel that hideous scream fill my ears and all I think is, good. It''s not my death. Not my pain.


    My foot catches and my hand bursts and my mouth is open but all that comes out is a pathetic wheeze that turns into a hacking cough and then shrieking laughter.


    And I don''t die. No lizardmen come charging out of those ugly tree-parodies to tear me to shreds. No insects rise up to eat me alive. No horrible filthy girls with blank eyes open my throat without so much as a change in expression. I don''t die and there''s a noise, so ordinary that it takes me near a minute to recognise it.


    Water.


    Just a shallow stream, narrow and fast, the water clear over smooth rocks. I don''t know how I get to it, my body crawls or limps or stumbles or drags itself forward, I see the miracle stream come closer until I can touch it and gasp at the cold and then push my face into it and drink and sob and remember I''m more than blind animal instinct.


    Awareness of the stench from my trousers brings a ridiculous flush of shame, I struggle out of my shoes and socks and work my filthy underclothes off and roll into the stream and sit there, naked from the waist down, splashing and crying because it''s so cold it hurts and I can feel that because I''m alive.


    I look up and see a stone giant watching me.


    "Oh no," I moan, and everything goes dark.

 part one.6

    SUBJECT // north // ???? //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // burnished //


    I hold up my hand. There''s a splash. I glance back at the others, give them a grin, then gesture to keep moving. Put my gaze back on the stone monster. Saw him back at the arena too. Dragging that enormous sack behind him. Could be some kind of rock troll. Could be cursed. Suppose it doesn''t matter. Seems like he''s just standing there. Good. Wouldn''t want to fight that. I''d win, just wouldn''t want to do it.


    Monster looks up. Looks around. Doesn''t see me, because I don''t want him to see me. The others have all moved on down the path. Waiting for me. The little mute girl standing close behind the little fidgety girl, and the old Raresafian leaning heavy on his cane, eyes on the Stoxan boys Bullish and Cheer as they engage in a silent contest of fear-burying. And of course Vee.


    The stone monster has his head down now. Silent and unmoving. Good. Good enough.


    "False alarm," I say, giving the group another grin as I walk up. "This way."


    I head down another path. They follow. Of course they do.


    "Um, Mr North?"


    Glance back. "Yes, Vee?" She''s fixed her makeup. We didn''t even stop for a minute. I''m halfway impressed. "Problem?"


    Vee shakes her head then adjusts her hair. "I¡ªwell, we, all of us¡ªwe''re wondering if you know where this is? You said you''re an explorer¡ª"


    "Vee, I don''t know where we are. But that doesn''t matter. Being an explorer isn''t about following maps, it''s about forging your own path forward. I know this is scary and strange for you, but trust me. This is my life."


    "Okay. I know, I''m silly¡ª"


    "You''re not silly, Vee. Just keep calm, follow my lead, don''t touch anything, and we''ll all get through this. Together. I promise."


    She smiles. "I believe you. Thank you. The way you''re helping me¡ªall of us. We''d all be dead if it wasn''t for you."


    Probably true. Nice to hear anyway. I pat her on the shoulder, gods she''s slim, feels like she''d shatter if she fell over. "You''re helping the others too. Keeping it together like this. Panic is what''ll kill you in a place like this. Be an example to the others, Vee. Stay strong."


    She goes to reply but I hold my hand up, silencing her. Something. Not sure what but definitely something¡ªI wave at the others, put my finger to my lips and they all shut up. Not that they were making much noise anyway. Still in shock, most of them.


    There. Again. Something, but what? Not the stone monster, not footsteps. Not movement¡ªa cry? Animal or human? Or something other? Maddeningly familiar, I hate that I can''t place it. Vee''s looking at me, her eyes big and trusting, mouth shut tight against the urge to question or scream. Good girl. Good enough.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Again, again, it''s sharp and high and more felt than heard, like it''s not even a sound¡ª


    It''s not a sound.


    It''s a curse.


    Again it comes and there''s no doubt now, no mistaking that shiver of a non-noise, that feeling like the air''s getting thin and hard, it''s getting closer by the second so what do I do with these half dozen innocents all looking to me for guidance. Fight for them? Die for them? It''s not like I want any of them to get hurt.


    But still.


    Fuck that.


    "North," Vee whispers, her hand over her mouth like she''s doing something forbidden. I look at her and then at the others, open my mouth to speak¡ª


    Vee''s standing near me. Six back on the path.


    One more than I rescued from the arena.


    "Well hello," he says because I see him now, thin and sharp and flicking his floppy white fringe from his face and grinning like he''s never been curious about anything. "Darling."


    With a swipe of his hand Bullish is gone, the boy''s chest a mass of gore and splintered bone. The old man is next, stepping in front of the two little girls with a calmness that''s shattered by his gurgling scream, guts torn out and thrown in his face. Through it all the little white haired shit doesn''t take his eyes off me. Doesn''t stop grinning. He''s just watching me choose, as he shoves what''s left of the old man aside and takes a cocky fucking deliberate step towards the little girls¡ª


    "God DAMN IT," and I''m charging, grabbing Cheer by the shoulder and throwing him behind me, don''t know where Vee is, doesn''t matter because this is what the cursed fucker wants.


    "There''s my darling man." His eyes are on mine. He''s ignoring everyone else, Vee''s dragging the little girls away, good girl Vee. But forget her. I clench my fists hard as I can then relax, take in a breath and let it out slow. Let him come close. Let him think he''s even got a chance of winning this.


    Punch his cocky little head off.


    "Oh oh!" from up a fucking tree what the hell when did he "Not like that."


    Stinging impact against my arm and a cool hand sliding over my cheek and he''s right there in front of me, ducking my swing and pivoting to avoid the follow and another light pat on my cheek before my fist crushes around his wrist.


    "Gotcha," I growl, and the little snot kisses me. I splutter and shove him away, grunt at another stinging impact, my other arm, he''s still grinning about it as I slam my fist into the side of his head.


    He goes down, sprawled on the dirt in a tangle of long thin limbs. I move to get a stomp in but he''s already pushing himself up, raising his head and showing bloodied teeth.


    "Oh yes," he says, and he spits out a long red drool. "I was right about you."


    Then he''s up and coming at me, tries for a jab to my gut and gets a bloodied nose instead. Manages a glancing slash that somehow tears my jacket before I slam both hands down on his head, feel a crack and he''s grounded again, I raise my foot to deliver a finishing stomp but he rolls, catches my boot, twists and we''re both down, he''s faster but lets me get up, lets me draw in angry breath and growl it out before giving me a stupid god damn smirk and a ridiculous spinning leaping I don''t even know what. I slap him out of it and follow with a heavy punch that fucks his right arm. He skips back and grins, happy as ever.


    "You''re SO cursed!" he crows, and he''s about to come at me again before he stops, eyes wide, drawing himself back and up like a startled cat.


    It''s an old trick.


    Too old for this cocky little prick.


    So I shift stance to glance back and do my own startled cat impression.


    It''s the stone monster, standing in the middle of the path a few dozen metres back. He takes a casual bite of the leg he''s holding and chews slowly, beady deepset eyes moving from me to the little white haired cock and back to me again.


    "So then," the stone monster rumbles, and he grins, huge flat teeth stained red with blood. "What''s this entertaining fuckery?"

 part two // glorious filth

    // BEFORE //


    Evenfall City was a miracle, they said. Refuge turned fortress turned haven, surrounded by walls both physical and otherwise but with gates open to all. It marked the crossing between Amaranth and Valk, separated east from west, stood as a grand testament to the power of neutrality. It was a proud city, a hero city, a place whose sheer existence defied the world.


    To Vee it was mostly just home. She''d been born there, had lived in Evenfall her entire life, had never even considered the possibility of leaving. She was a citizen through and through, of purest type.


    She pushed her face into the flowers as she walked. They were a treat, but didn''t she deserve it? Hadn''t she earned them? She was improving by the day, everyone said so. There had even been mention of her replacing Miles VanDean when he stood down.


    She reached the conservatory and was instantly attacked, her assailant leaping from the shadows.


    "Ah!" she cried. "No hugs! I have flowers!"


    Caleb twisted in the air to throw himself past Vee, spinning his momentum into a twirling dance.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Amazing news, huh Vee?" he said. "Lovely flowers by the way, you do those yourself?"


    "Oh yes, I just picked them on a whim, arranged them as I walked, plucked a colourful ribbon from the breeze--no, Tizzy did them for me, of course. I wanted something special for the anniversary."


    Caleb stopped his dance. "It''s been a year already?"


    "Exactly one year," Vee said, walking into the conservatory proper, through slices of sunlight from high thin windows. "What''s the amazing news?"


    "The tour! The caravan! Didn''t you see it outside, that''s for us!"


    Vee stood on tiptoes to peer inside a vase. She did vaguely recall a few carriages and such on the street outside. "For us for what?"


    "For travelling, you nonce. Six months of adventure, we''re going to see the world!"


    Vee turned. "We''re what."


    "Valk first, then through Stox and Wyrne then all the way down to Muur, can you even imagine?"


    "But, but, when was this decided? When ... why do we ... do we even get a choice?"


    "It''s supposed to be exciting, Vee."


    "It''s not exciting! It''s terrifying! Outside of Evenfall is, it''s outside!"


    Caleb stared at Vee as his face was eaten by red shadows. Vee screamed but no sound came from her mouth. The conservatory dissolved, replaced by an expanse of crimson nothing. In the distance something moved, large and slow, and from nowhere came a female voice:


    "Hello. You have been chosen. Aren''t you lucky. Now I don''t wish to panic you, but you''re in quite the precarious situation. Would that it could be otherwise. So it''s kill or be killed, I''m afraid. I wonder, will you be a sacrifice? Or will you be a survivor?


    "Anyway. Welcome to Death Theory. Today, your life begins."

 part two.2

    SUBJECT // violet ''vee'' lane // citizen violinist //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // dim //


    They''re all looking at me, why me, I''m just trying to breathe, that''s all I can focus on right now, just breathing without screaming. I can still see the boy, not actually, just in my mind, I can see his chest the way it came open like people are made of nothing, like we''re just blood and bones and other stuff and now what I''m trying to do is breathe without vomiting.


    The girls are looking at me. The other boy is looking at me. The one who''s still alive. The one who still has all his blood and bones and other stuff inside his skin. I can''t remember if I know any of their names. I guess I''m the oldest? Is that why they''re all looking at me? But I don''t know anything!


    Keep calm, that''s what North told me and he knows what he''s doing. I can trust him. He''s protecting us¡ªyes, yes, HE is protecting US, not me! I can''t fight or anything like that, I''m just a girl! I can play the violin and that''s all I can do! Why am I here, that voice said ''chosen'' but why would anyone choose me for anything, why these little girls, why the old man, why the Stoxan boys, why is any of this happening?


    I take a sudden heaving desperate breath. I forgot. I forgot I was breathing. Thinking took over. Thinking isn''t so good.


    "What now?" the boy asks and his voice is shaking so hard but at least he can talk, I couldn''t even do that. I can hear the fighting. I can hear North and the other one talking but not the words. Who is that man, the white haired man, where did he come from and why is he killing us and no, no Vee, thinking again, that''s not good. But what else is there? Breathing. There''s breathing. Remember to keep doing that because oh I want to, I want to keep breathing so badly.


    "Do we run?" the boy says, staring at me like I guess I''m staring at him but also like he thinks I have any kind of an answer which I don''t. "Help the guy? What we supposed to do?"


    He says ''to'' like ''tah'', that must be a Stoxan thing.


    "Stupid," I say and realise my teeth are chattering. "Stupid ridiculous stupid," and then I have to stop I mean I want to stop because I''m just burbling but I also have to stop because if my mouth is open for another second I''m going to scream forever.


    I look down because something pinched my wrist, some kind of horrible insect or no, it''s the girl, the littler one, the one with the patchwork cloak, she''s pulling my wrist and pointing and her eyes are so big but I can''t see what colour they are, just black.


    Pointing. Just at a tree? But they''re not trees, are they? Trees don''t look like that. Is that tree special?


    Three lizardmen step out from behind the special tree and I stare at them. It''s not a choice. I''d move if I could. I can''t. Maybe it''s easier to just die. But you don''t just die. We all saw that. They don''t kill you. They crush your arms and legs and drag you away and eat you bit by bit, that''s what North said and he knows, he knows¡ªA case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The lizardmen aren''t moving. They''re just standing there. Looking at us, and we''re looking at them. We''re all of us frozen. It''s so stupid and ridiculous I want to laugh until I die. Are they scared? Why? Why would anything be scared of me?


    There''s a sound like a crunch and a squelch from behind me and I know what it is and I don''t tell my body to turn around but it does it anyway, and I don''t tell my eyes to look at the little girl, not the patchwork cloak girl, the other one with hair like mine, but I can''t look at her anyway because she''s just a bone with bloody meat trailing off it and a soggy dark lump in a lizardman''s claw and strands of red stretching between sharp teeth.


    We''re all of us nothing. Blood and bones in a bag made of skin. Lizardmen stand there and watch us while other lizardmen eat us and they''re not scared because there''s nothing we can do to them and they can do anything to us. Even if North comes back, he beat one lizardman on its own but there are three in front of us and three behind us and more in the trees because this is their jungle and we''re nothing.


    The boy makes a noise that''s a scream and a snarl and a sob all at once and he hurls himself at one of the lizardmen.


    I beg my eyes to close and blessed beneath they do.


    I can''t tell my ears to close, though.


    I can''t tell myself to die.


    "You can run."


    Oh, I''ve gone mad.


    "When the time is right."


    My eyes open and I''m looking down and the last little girl is looking up at me with those big dark eyes.


    "You can run," she whispers, and she smiles. "You can run."


    I know they''ll catch me and I know they''ll eat me and I know there''s no hope. I can''t run. The little girl lies. I''m just imagining this anyway.


    She shakes her head, still smiling, and she points at the path, at the place where no lizardmen are standing. It moves towards me, the path does, and the trees move around me and oh, I''m running, I''m running as hard as I can even though it''ll never be enough, they''ll chase me and catch me and eat me in bits¡ª


    "Ah," as something heavy hits against my face, warmth on my cheek that gets hotter and hotter until I''m crying and still running and I hear them now behind me their footsteps heavy and strong and I can''t ever run fast enough or far enough¡ª


    "Ah," again as my foot catches and I stumble and stagger and my shoulder slams against a tree and I clutch at it but I''m going too fast and there''s a slope and I''m rolling and dirt fills my mouth and I gag and my head splits open on something sharp and I''m dead except I''m still rolling and it''s almost nice, better this way, roll and roll and roll and when I stop rolling I''ll be dead and won''t have to worry about anything.


    I stop rolling.


    I''m not dead.


    My ear tickles. I should be hurting. My cheek was burning before but I don''t feel it. Just my ear tickling. I scratch. It feels wet. I can see up. The trees. The way the branches touch other branches, wrap into and around each other. It''s like a cave. Dark, but light. Things floating in the air. Tiny white things floating like dandelion puffs, fluffy and pretty. Even the ground is soft and nice and white. Better than that ugly dirt. The only bad thing is a buzzing that''s getting louder and louder and black in the air a swarm of bugs coming for me I open my mouth to scream but there''s nothing to breathe just those white puffs and they fill my mouth and nose and eyes and the buzzing is everywhere and I feel the first stings and

 part two.3

    SUBJECT // tommy crispin // valkan vagrant //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // glittering //


    I''m flying! I''m flying! Of course it has to end, splatting against the dirt and scruffing myself beautifully. I beg Air for a hand up and give the pretty man one of my very best smiles.


    "Oh yes," I say, drooling sensuously. "I was right about you."


    Because I was! I was so very right! Air gives me a playful shove and I decide to tickle the pretty man''s tummy, the darling caresses my nose instead, so generous! In return I stroke his arm, tear his jacket a little, oops! No release, shame, but he gives me a lovely hard bop on the top of my head. Down I go! I really don''t want this to end so abruptly so I do a bit of a roll and take his boot in my hands¡ªI imagine he has lovely feet¡ªand with a caring twist I bring him down to my level. But it all feels wrong somehow. Too sudden? Moving too fast, let him catch up, we''ve only just met but neither one of us could deny this connection¡ªnow I''m getting ahead of even myself! I hop up and he does the same, am I leading now? Gosh! He''s looking at me and making the most gorgeous growling purr, I feel a blush reach my cheeks and can''t help but smile¡ªit''s no good, I can''t keep myself away, I just have to leap and let Air do with me what it will¡ªthe pretty man graces me with a wondrous instant of contact followed by a truly electrifying jolt to my arm, I won''t be able to use it for hours! I know I''m being silly but I just can''t help it, I simply can''t keep the smile off my face.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    "You''re SO cursed!" I gush, there''s no other word for it, so rarely do I meet anyone this generous and beautiful. He''s playing hard to get but that just fuels my desire, another chance for an embrace, perhaps another stolen kiss¡ªso naughty I know but sometimes¡ª


    Oh gosh there''s a stone giant behind him.


    That''s truly surprising.


    He''s holding a human leg. Huh! Can''t do anything but shrug as he takes a bite. I suppose when you''re a stone giant you eat what you like¡ªwho you like, even.


    "So then," the stone giant says, goodness but his voice is lovely and rumbly and deep. "What''s this entertaining fuckery?"


    My pretty man spares me a glance¡ªconcerned for me, bless. It''s strange but I''m honestly not sure what to do. This stone giant is fascinating but am I so flippant as to¡ª


    The cord tightens around my neck.


    "Oh no!" I screech. "Not yet! It''s just getting interesting!"


    Air ignores my flailing arms and gasped pleading. The stone giant and my pretty man are looking at me, all I can offer is a desperate parting wave before the cord yanks and once more I''m flying.


    Maybe time for a sigh? Yes. Time for a sigh, as the cord drags me through the air and back towards the arena.


    "Whee," I say, though my heart isn''t in it. Branches whip against me but it''s just not the same, my pretty man had such a way with his hands. The cord tightens once more and I open my eyes wide, gaze up at the sky. Time for him to come back, I suppose. The ungrateful bitch.


    I take in a thick lungful of juicy jungle air and then I die.

 part two.4

    SUBJECT // north // ???? //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // burnished //


    What the fuck is going on.


    "Huh." Stone giant looks at me and grins. "Guess it''s just us."


    I try to dodge but the monster''s massive stone hand clips my shoulder and sends me spinning to the ground. Roll to the side and struggle up but FUCK¡ª


    "Yeah. No one expects me to be quick. Unfair, huh?"


    Got me by the leg, not crushing, just holding me upside down, could maybe swing myself up and get a good hit on his arm but have to time it right. He lifts me up and I catch the stink of stale sweat, then rotten breath as he speaks:


    "So what are you supposed to be. Some kind of hero, I guess. Protecting them others. You know there''s lizards over there¡ªhah, you don''t. Okay then. Let''s go take a look."


    Not yet, wait until he starts walking¡ªNOW¡ª


    "Don''t be fucking stupid."


    Hollowness in my stomach and branches slapping against my face and then I''m falling, the hells-damned monster threw me in the air but all I have to do¡ª


    "FUCK!"


    "Hah, yeah. Fucking awful, isn''t it?" Monster''s grinning at me again, holding me in both hands now, pinning my arms to my sides. "Do I got to break something? Maybe not, huh. Yeah, let''s go like this."


    He''s too strong, can''t even struggle¡ªexcept wait, wait a second, maybe¡ª


    "Wouldn''t," he grunts, I let out a growl of pain as he rolls me in his hands, gets me facing away from him. Walks me towards the others, and the lizardmen surrounding them.


    "There you go," he says. "Looks like they''re eating one of the little ones¡ªhaha oh fuck, look at that."


    Can''t do anything but watch as Cheer snarls and throws himself at a lizardman. It stops eating the little girl long enough to swipe him away. He crashes to the ground, coughing blood. Tries to push himself up.


    "That''s fucking tragic," the stone giant rumbles. "Haha, what the hell was he thinking."This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Another lizardman stomps on the boy''s hands, crushing one after the other, then his ankles.


    "Hell," stone giant says. "They don''t fuck around, do they."


    "Let me go¡ª"


    "¡ªscamper off and get yourself heroed to death? Nuh. First you watch. After that, dunno. Maybe we follow the lizards. See where they''re dragging everyone. Should be good for a laugh. Here, what''s the little one up to? She cursed?"


    Just Vee and the little girl with the patchwork cloak, the little girl''s saying something, Vee''s shaking her head¡ª


    "Ah, FUCK," because the giant squeezed me and I swear I heard my ribs creak.


    "Asked you a question," he says. "Is the little one cursed."


    "No."


    "Yeah, well. We''ll see. Oh fuck, there she goes¡ªdecent pins on her, look at that."


    Vee''s running, the lizardmen giving chase¡ª


    "Nuh, nuh, this is gonna¡ªlook, don''t fuck around because I need a hand for a bit."


    Pressure released as the giant shifts his grip, my left arm''s free but he''s running, flashes of trees and dark earth and grey sky and a lizardman being slapped out of the way and bursting open, another trampled underfoot¡ªcan''t see the little girl, can''t see Vee except¡ª


    "Haha, oh yeah, here we go. Yeah, watch this, watch where she''s running."


    I''ve got a shot, could swing up and get a decent crack on his arm but I''m just watching Vee run, there aren''t any lizardmen after her because the giant killed half of them and scared the piss out of the rest. But she''s not looking back. She''s not looking anywhere, pure panicked flight, just get away and don''t even think about where you''re headed. But in a place like this¡ª


    "And whoops, there she goes. Hah."


    I see Vee disappear before the giant starts running again, blurred green and brown and grey. Bile fills my mouth and I spit.


    "Thought so," the giant mumbles, stopping. "Down there, look."


    He holds me up. I can see down the slope, through the vines and trees to a valley of white¡ªsome kind of fungus, who the hell knows what kind of poison in a place like this¡ª


    "Fuck, think she broke her neck or something¡ªis she breathing, can you see? My eyes ain''t for shit."


    "She''s alive," I growl.


    "Yeah? Okay. Okay, good."


    Stone giant goes quiet. Lowers me a little. Attention on Vee, lying there in the middle of that fluffy white death. She whimpers and raises her hand to her bloodied ear.


    "Moving even," the stone giant murmurs. "Funny."


    "What''s the point of this," I ask. "What are you trying to prove."


    "Prove? Hah. Fucking heroes. Here, watch this, what''s happening here¡ªinsects?"


    Dark swarms rising from the ground at the edges of the fungus field, converging on Vee¡ªsymbiotic relationship maybe. Animals wander into the fungus, become paralysed? Vee was moving, but maybe humans are bigger than the usual prey.


    Glance back and up. Stone giant''s beady little eyes are fixed on Vee and the insects covering her. Distracted. Now or never¡ªI clench my fist as tight as it''ll go, feel a jolt and he jerks back, lets me get my arm free and crack him on the jaw and that''s it, I''m dropping and rolling and shoving myself up and running like hell¡ª


    "See you later, hero!" he calls, and nothing but his laughter follows me.

 part two.5

    SUBJECT // gideon fate // citizen accountant //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // dull //


    I open my eyes and I''m not dead. I can''t feel anything below my waist but I''m not dead. There was that girl killing that other girl and then running from lizardmen and then the stream, the cold stream, sitting in the cold stream and then looking up and seeing that stone giant¡ª


    "Drink."


    To my shame I shriek. Then I see her face and I shriek again. Her eyes are blank, just white, nothing but white, almost glowing from within a ragged cowl¡ª


    "Witch," I whisper, I can''t help it, but she shakes her head and bares her teeth. She''s scarred, how did I not notice that, deep ragged scars across her face like something tore it open-Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "Drink," she repeats, and I see the steaming cup she''s holding up for me to take but I can''t make my hand move, all I can think about is how I know her accent, I know it, I do¡ªbut stupid because of course she''s Stoxan, she''s a monster hunter, nobody is scarred like that who isn''t a monster hunter.


    "Oh," I murmur, and I take the drink, too quickly, it spills and scalds my hand and then my tongue and throat. It''s hard to care. I''m grateful to feel anything, even pain.


    She takes back her cup, not quite a snatch but she doesn''t seem happy. Points down at a few thick worms on the ground.


    "These roots," she says. Oh. Not worms. "Roll them between your hands, then rub your hands on your legs."


    She stands and straightens her dull red robe and walks away¡ª


    "Oh, no, wait, what¡ª" I can''t get up, my legs aren''t working, I can''t even feel them "¡ªwhat''s going on, do you know? Why did you help me?"


    She stops and glances back. I have to look away from those white eyes.


    "You want to live," she says. "Rub quickly or the little dragons will eat you."


    I watch her disappear between the trees.


    Then I pick up a handful of roots and rub like my life depends on it.

 part two.6

    SUBJECT // nakob nearsmith // stiltian tracker //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // crusted //


    Up wall. Not chore. Safe enough. Good view! Nice to stay. But needed.


    Easy climb down.


    Easy trek back.


    Others talking. Even boss. Disappointed.


    Little baldy spots me first. Sneaky shit. Don''t trust.


    "Nake''s back, Nake! Good looking! Tell us what you saw, you got up the wall? Anything good out there?"


    Say nothing. Wait for boss.


    "Nakob," says she. "See anything useful?"


    Others gathering. Audience. Uncomfortable.


    "Give the man space," says boss. Good woman. "Nakob? What did you see?"


    Point. "Cliff." Point. "Cliff." Point. "Big river." Point. "Crevasse. Bridges. Beyond, made things. Above, light."


    Silence. Then babbling questions.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    "Made things," says girl. "Like buildings?"


    Shrug.


    "What do you mean ''light''," says boy. "Some kind of beacon? Break in the clouds?"


    "What clouds."


    Up they look. Makes me smile.


    Boss got a question: "Cliffs going up or cliffs going down?"


    Point up.


    "No but the light though," boy again. "What was it?"


    "Like lighthouse," says I. "No water. Not moving. Just shining."


    Thinking silence. Then look to boss.


    "What about the arena?" asks she. "How many lizardmen there?"


    "None."


    Surprised them.


    "None?" says she. "So they left?"


    "Some left. Some stayed." Grin. "Four killers stayed too. Four killers had fun."


    Babble of questions. Don''t like it. Maybe shouldn''t have said. Too much talk.


    "Settle," says boss. Eyes on me. "Four killers. Four people?"


    Spit. "Nuh."


    "Cursed?"


    Spit. "Yuh."


    Boss goes thinking quiet. Others too. Good.


    "The river is that way?" says boss, pointing. "It leads to the crevasse?"


    Nod.


    "Then we''ll head for the river and follow it to the crevasse. Find one of those bridges to cross."


    "Getting away from the arena sounds good to me," says little baldy. "Cursed killers or fucking lizards or whatever, wanna be far from all of that."


    "There could be worse out there," says boy. "Could be way worse."


    "Yeah? Oh yeah? Like fucking what?"


    Sign to protect. Shitty little baldy. Trawling for bad. Too much talk.


    "Enough," says boss. "Everyone¡ª"


    Yell. New yell.


    "FUCKING RUN!" yells new yeller. "RUN!"


    Yeller runs through. Runs on.


    Look to boss.


    Boss thinking.


    "Yeah, okay," says boss. "Fucking run."

 part two.7

    SUBJECT // trevor ''stoneskin'' ward // raresafian vagrant //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // radiant //


    Give it a bit of thought then pop the lizard''s arm off. It goes all twitchy like they do. Pretty funny. Hate the noise they make, but. Snuffling clicking hissing fuckers. Crush the thing''s lower jaw but that just makes it worse. Fuck. Fuck it, cave in its head and toss it aside.


    Bored now. Need people. Lizards are boring little shits when you get right down to it. Should''ve maybe hung on to that hero. Heroes are always fun. Ah, fuck it anyway. Maybe go back to the river. Heh, can''t wait for someone to get near the water. That''ll be fucking classic.


    Wait though. Screaming! Yeah, yeah, okay¡ªfuck these fucking useless ears but that way I think, yeah? Yeah maybe, fucking fantastic if it''s a group, group''d keep me going a while.


    Fuck. The sack. Ah, better bring it. Hell of a hassle finding it again last time. Shouldn''t run anyway. Too much noise. Don''t want to ruin the surprise. Speaking of, there goes another scream¡ªnah, nah, more like a shout, warning shout which is brilliant because you don''t give a warning shout to yourself, do you? Course you fucking don''t. Could be a decent sized group. Could mean I don''t have to go back to those four fucking psychos at the arena. Boring predictable fuckers.


    There they are. Gotta be at least a half dozen of ''em, maybe more¡ªah but fucking lizards again, fucking little fuckers gonna fuck up my fun, nuh, NUH, you fucking¡ªThis tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "¡ªDON''T," as I swat it into a tree, splats real nice, next one''s coming right at me and haha these fuckers can''t stop so easy once they get going, let it slam into me then grab it by the arms, little shit''s squirming like a woman and hissing like stink, bring it up into proper focus but can''t read nothing in its big yellow eyes. Give it a bit of pressure, bit of a tug on the arms. Not much happens. More squirming maybe, snapping its mouth a bit, nothing special. Bit more pressure and¡ªfuck, arm''s come off. Fuck it anyway, boring little shit ain''t¡ª


    FUCK, the group, got distracted by this squirmy little bitch¡ª


    "FUCK YOU," throw it down and stomp its filthy carcass into the dirt, lizards are tougher than people but they still squish real good, bones are real bendy too. People get all splintery. Get a snapped arm bone between your toes and fuck, you''ll soon know about it.


    FUCK AGAIN the fucking group, keep getting distracted, gotta go maybe save ''em from some lizards or at least watch ''em get fucked¡ª


    Huh.


    "¡ªyou even come from, how did you ... you just killed two lizardmen with your BARE HANDS!"


    "Just good timing, I guess."


    "Godsdamn deadly timing! Good looking anyway, what''s your name, friend?"


    Can''t see too well, especially at this distance and through all these trees and shit, but if that fucker isn''t grinning I''m a fucking burrow worm.


    "Call me North," he says, fucking heroes. Hahaha. Yeah, this group is gonna be fun. Maybe give ''em a little bit of time. Keep watching ''em while they''re feeling safe. Stir ''em up if I get a chance. Then go introduce myself. Heh. Yeah. Definitely not bored right now.

 part two.8

    SUBJECT // avon averline // valkan diplomat //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // clouded //


    She''s magnificent, in a hideous sort of way. Zanthic! Here, of all places! Whatever ''here'' is, can''t really pretend to care much at this precise moment so forget that and focus on the important, the intriguing, the vital, a true to life Zanthic girl in the toned and supple flesh right before my very eyes. Shame about her face and her brutality and her hygiene but one can''t have everything¡ªif given a first edition Roche does one complain about the quality of the binding, or the roughness of the paper, or the mustiness? One does not. One appreciates the rarity of what one has been gifted.


    "Hold up."


    I obey with a smile. Genuine, of course. She''s looking around with those sleepy alert eyes of hers, jerking her head this way and that like a swamp hen. In some manner of hilarious coincidence a scrawny example of the type wanders out on the path ahead of us¡ªperhaps not such a coincidence, this has happened twice in the last ten minutes so swamp hens are rather on my mind. I suppose we might even be able to eat them. Things are certainly looking up and up.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    "Are we to move?" I ask, and she glances back at me. Not a scowl, not a glare, I have yet to earn either, simply a blankness of expression that makes my cock shiver. Patience, my pet.


    "People," she grunts¡ªmight she grunt while being plowed, perhaps from behind? The very thought!


    "People!" I repeat. "My favourite. What''s our plan, my love?"


    She turns to look at me properly, those precious blank eyes heavy with irritation.


    "Ah!" I say, raising my hands. "I forgot. You are not ''my love''. If anything I belong to you, my life in your hands and so on. You are Briya Thorn, Muurian first scout, a proud Zanthic woman and entirely my superior. Would you like me to go talk to those people for you?"


    She gives me a lovely long stare before replying: "Why haven''t I killed you."


    "I wonder that myself. My current theory is that you''re not particularly enamoured of the murder act. You dislike me slightly less than you dislike killing."


    "Hm," she says, and jerks her head towards a path. "They''re a way along there. I''ll be waiting."

 part two.9

    SUBJECT // gillian galahad // valkan trader //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // stifled //


    Take a breath. Good idea. Take a breath to get to the next breath.


    "Start again," I say. "Because I still don''t get how you lost your trousers."


    Eyes on the boy Gideon as he swallows. Are we calling him a boy? Yeah. Yeah, I think we are.


    "Oh," he says, teeth still chattering. "I had, had an accident. Then the s-stream and the, oh, the giant¡ª"


    "Nakob¡ªshut up a second Gideon, we''ll talk about the giant soon¡ªany sign?"


    Nakob shakes his head, then his narrow eyes flick to the boy.


    "Maybe," I say. "Tell me. Those four killers at the arena. Any of them a stone giant?"


    Another shake of the head from Nakob.


    "You seen anything looks like that?"


    "Nuh."


    "Okay. Check the path ahead." Back to the boy. "You. Gideon. What did the stone giant do?"


    "Uh. Don''t know exactly. I, uh, that''s w-when I passed out. Um. In the stream."


    "Then you woke up and a scarred woman with white eyes gave you a warm drink."


    "Um. Yes."


    "After which you stumbled into a group of lizardmen and led them straight to us."


    Boy''s got the grace to look embarassed.


    "All right." Resist the urge to sigh. If I start now I''m never gonna stop. "Listen up, Gideon. You''re still alive now because none of us got killed. You can thank the man North for that. If it wasn''t for him coming in¡ª"This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    "I, I know. I will thank him. And thank you, for, for everything¡ª"


    "Do anything that puts any of us in danger and I leave you for dead. Understand?"


    "Yes. Um. Yes, I do."


    I give him a long stare, then nod. "Go talk to Astra, she''ll sew those leaves you got proper."


    Watch him scurry off. Narrowed eyes at young Finn leaving his watch¡ªwait, who the fuck is that?


    "Goodness goodness, what a gathering!"


    New voice. New face. Glance at young Finn. Boy''s looking sheepish. Got fucking reason.


    "Ah! The lady in charge, no doubt. So sorry to intrude but¡ª"


    "You get three more words before I order you dead."


    He''s sharp, this one. Can tell from the way his smile don''t but flicker, and the way he gets his words together then gives it another second before talking:


    "You''re. Stunningly. Beautiful."


    Point my gaze at Finn. "You fell for this crap?"


    "He said he''d be useful! He''s an ambassador and, and real good at talking and all, and there''s another one, a scout from Muur, you know Muur scouts!"


    Gaze back on sharp. "She hiding in the tress? Got a bow trained on my head? This where you tell me the second you fall is the second before I die?"


    "I do beg your pardon? Ah, I see, some assumption of my being ''covered''¡ªno no, I assure you, my relationship with this particular Muurian scout is, oh, what words should I use, regrettably she does not place any significant value upon my life. The second I fall, it may very well be, is the second before she smirks."


    Glance at Tro, appeared from somewhere the way he does. "Problem?"


    "Heya boss. Nuh, no problem, just checking out the new face. Valkan, huh? Some kind of rich. Good looking, maybe."


    Interesting. Sharp''s smile just dropped.


    Tro spits. "Eh, seems harmless."


    "As I keep telling people! Harmless and useful, that''s me all over. Avon Averline, by the by, special ambassador for cultural cooperation¡ª"


    "Enough. Tro, Finn, go with him to the scout. If she''s okay we''ll give ''em both a chance."


    "You shan''t regret¡ªdear goodness but there''s a sight."


    Follow Avon''s stare.


    Start staring myself.


    Barely looks human she''s so swollen, from insect bites maybe, can''t even see her eyes for the swelling and her head''s all lumpy, golden hair muddied and sticking out at all angles. Looks like her right arm got the worst of it, at least twice normal size and covered in weeping boils.


    "Please," she moans so pitiful, shuffling forward out of the trees. How''s she even walking on those legs?


    Hear a noise from over, the man North. He stands and he stares like everyone is staring, except there''s a difference. He knows her.


    "Vee," he says. "Oh gods, Vee."

 part three // everything is fine

    // BEFORE //


    The night wasn''t the worst. The night was just a muddle of darkness and wild eyes and torchlight on metal, and the rough wooden haft of her spear, and jarring impact and sudden release, again and again and again.


    The night was about desperation, and necessity, and exhaustion.


    It was the dawn that brought despair.


    Shallow warmth filtered through mist, the feeble light of an outmatched sun shining¡ªif you could call it that¡ªon a filthy bloodied thirteen year old girl. She was not the sole survivor of the attack, but she might as well have been. There was a boy who hid, and an old man who escaped with nothing more serious than a gash in his side. He''d had a wife, two daughters, a brother, a nephew. All dead. He soon joined them. He survived his wound, but not his guilt. As for the boy, he had perhaps hidden too well. The raiders ferreted out his brothers and his sister, but not him. He alone had been unfound, and even after the attack still so he remained. Perhaps he had a discovered a place of safety, deep within himself, and was now too scared to leave. Eventually he was taken in by a monastery, to sweep and to exist.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    As for the girl, she''d had only her father. He raised her alone, talk in the village was that they shared no blood but what did that matter. He was the one who fed her every day, who taught her to defend herself and to spit in the eye of anyone who said ''you can''t''. He had stood tall against the raiders, when they crashed upon the village like some stinking bloody tide. He had put an arrow through the eye of one and his spear through the throat of another. And then he turned, to look at his daughter, and he shat himself. The girl''s last memory of her proud self-reliant father was of him grasping feebly at bundles of his own innards before collapsing in the mud and the muck.


    It wasn''t then that she made the realisation. It wasn''t until long after this moment that she found the clarity of heart necessary to think at all. Nevertheless, this was the image burnt into her mind and the instant her world sharpened to a single point: nothing means anything. There''s only this breath and the next one. And so the girl decided to take her father''s advice. The last thing he ever said to her, seconds before the battle began:


    "You survive, Briya Thorn. You live."

 part three.2

    SUBJECT // briya thorn // muurian scout //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // guttering //


    Shake my head and grimace at myself. No good thinking of the past, Briya girl. That night''s near five years gone. Here and now, that''s what matters. You got choices in front of you. You got some bad fights, most likely.


    Glance at fool. Avon Averline. Still don''t have a fix on him. Still haven''t figured out what the hell he wants. Closest I''ve got though, here and now. So I slow my pace. Let our paths get a little closer. Hang back behind them others a bit. Tro and Finn. Nasty little bald prick and some kind of porridgey boy-man. Nothing much to either of ''em.


    Another glance at fool. "Whatever I do," I murmur, low enough that them in front won''t hear, "follow."


    See him look my way. See that daft smile. See the fraction of a nod.


    He''s a fool, this Avon Averline, that''s the truth. But he ain''t an idiot.


    "Muurian, uh?" Tro says, grinning back like he''s got something on me. "A scout and all. Useful sort of soul to keep around."Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    I ain''t got the words to waste on this prick. But then he ain''t the sort that needs words.


    "Get grabbed like us?" he asks, still got that grin going on. "Red shadows and some fart-talking bint babbling nonsense, that your story same as ours?"


    I give him a nod, but I ain''t hopeful it''ll shut him up.


    "Yeah, some shit this is," Tro mutters, hint of honesty in his slippery voice. "And trust me, I know shit."


    I do believe that.


    "Should we be keeping quiet?" the boy Finn asks. "Those lizard things¡ªdo you know what they are?"


    Give the boy a grunt, ain''t his fault he''s young. "Dangerous."


    He tries to smile but it wasn''t worth the effort. "Did, uh, I heard that in Muur you get things in, in the old lands¡ª"


    "We do," I say. "But stories are always bigger."


    "There are terrors in the mist," Avon says, voice all rich and soft because these ain''t his words. "Though none so horrific as the nightmares of our minds."


    "You''re saying what we imagine is worse than what''s really out there?" Finn says.


    Avon laughs, too lightly. "We should ask the expert. Briya?"


    "Can''t say I ever got my head ripped off by anything imaginary."


    Another laugh from Avon, controlled but maybe more real than before. Tro joins, sharp-edged chuckle he''s got, and after a bit of wide-eyed staring so does Finn, showing his youth more than ever in that tight little giggle.


    So it''s only me that''s not laughing.

 part three.3

    SUBJECT // avon averline // valkan ambassador //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // clouded //


    I''ll get her to crack a smile one of these days, just see if I don''t. Not that I don''t relish a dour girl. Far from it. I am nothing if not a connoisseur, and as such appreciate¡ªnay, demand!¡ªvariety.


    "May I raise a small point?" I ask, slowing my pace a touch¡ªdear Gillian''s camp isn''t far and I''d hate for this conversation to be cut short by anything so dull as communal safety. "Because although it''s certainly true that nothing imagined has ever removed your lovely head from your admirably sturdy shoulders, Briya, it''s also true that nothing real has succeeded in doing so. My conclusion being that whether real or imagined¡ª"


    "What was that!" the boy Finn yelps. "Shush! Something!"


    For goodness sake, I was building to a rather fun little climax there.


    "We''re close to the others," Tro mutters, can''t help but note the knife he''s of a sudden holding. "Could be something''s stalking us."


    I look to Briya, because given the alternatives on offer, well. She''s doing her swamp hen impression, head twitching about, thick shaggy rather oily hair moving in an interesting way, bits of it sort of clump together while certain strands fly counter to the main, fascinating really. What colour would we call that, would we be so unimaginative as to call it brown? Do you know, given a wash and a brush and another wash and the right sort of light I think you might very well be able to call Briya Thorn''s hair ''sable''. I''d be excited to confirm that suspicion.


    "No," she mutters, familiar annoyance in her tone. Too familiar, perhaps? Have we grown weary of her constant low grade peevishness? Not quite yet, I would say. Not quite yet.


    "No? Nothing out there?" Tro sounding worried, as well he might. "Finny boy, think your ears are playing tricks?"


    "I, I thought, I really thought ... well maybe not," Finn says, poor lad, how awful to be both correct and disregarded. Confidence, my boy! That''s all you need! "I think the camp''s close anyway. Uh, camp? I don''t know the right word. Not like we''ve got shelter or, or even a fire or anything, too wet¡ª"


    "Shut!" Briya snaps, shut up? I know these are desperate times but live a little, Miss Thorn, indulge in that extra syllable. She''s glaring at the boy now, why does HE get a glare? I haven''t received so much as a scowl. Lucky little bastard, or perhaps it''s more that he''s her type. Younger. Vulnerable. In need of her protection and grateful for her aid, relying upon her more and more until one night that reliance becomes something intimate¡ªcurse me for a fool, I''ve been playing this all wrong.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Strangled yelp from lucky young Finn as something leaps upon him, a straggle of brown and darker brown and other brown, Briya''s there to deal with it of course but what about me? Not so much as a glance to assay my condition.


    "STOP IT''S A KID IT''S A FUCKING KID," Tro overexcites as usual. I realise that''s an assumption given that I''ve only known the man seven minutes but he seems the type to consistently overreact. Enough of him, Briya''s being interesting. She tore the child from Finn and has it upon the ground, knife not an inch from its throat. Might she complete the murder act? Even knowing that this is a child?


    But no. She''s not so cold as all that. Still a woman, beneath all that black cloth and rank leather and patinaed copper and filth and blood. Mmm.


    The child''s sobbing, as children do. Hideous sound. Soiled too, squelchier by far than any of us and I''m veritably coated in muck. Already beginning to wish Miss Thorn hadn''t spared the screeching thing¡ªoh? What''s this, young Finn joining the tear brigade? Cunning little sod!


    "Marigold," he''s sobbing, for what earthly reason I couldn''t begin to guess. Except ... no, it couldn''t be¡ªall of us, we came here alone, did we not? But the child''s mouth is open, either in preparation to feast on Finn''s jugular or in a kind of wailing smile just what the unholy fuck is going on here¡ª


    "Shut it, both of you," Briya says. Shut it, yes, that was bothering me, she doesn''t seem the ''shut up'' type. Shut it. Far more Briya-ish.


    "This, this is my sister, my little sister¡ª"


    "Nah, what?" Tro says. "So you got grabbed together? But that don''t¡ª"


    Finn''s shaking his head, all snotty and teary and repulsive. "Haven''t seen her, two years gone she was, but here ... it''s a miracle. It''s a miracle!"


    And now Briya spares me that glance. As well she might. I''ve never heard of a curse that allows the mimicry of another. Never once in all my travels have I heard so much as a whisper of that manner of power.


    Even so.


    My gaze flicks down to Briya''s knife, then back to those sleepy dull enticing eyes. She works her jaw then gives a single sharp shake of her head. Not for my benefit. Shaking out an impulse, a foul demon of a thought.


    "Up," she grunts, I do adore her grunting. "Move."


    The child has said nothing, clings close to Finn, huddled into him and giving the very impression of a small scared child reunited with her big brother.


    Another glance from Briya, all for me. My response is a shrug and a smile. ''Whatever I do, follow''. Those were her words and I have taken them to heart. She has my faith, does Briya Thorn. I shall trust her judgement and follow her lead.


    Wherever that path may take us.

 part three.4

    SUBJECT // gideon fate // citizen accountant //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // dull //


    I can''t stop looking at her. The girl Vee, all flushed and blistered and disgusting, sobbing with each pained breath. Myriad was sitting with her before, now it''s Astra''s turn. I''m doing nothing. Gillian said we have to move soon, keep trying to find something dry enough to burn. Get to the river maybe, because we''re all getting thirsty. Everything''s wet but there''s nothing to drink. Nakob says there''s nothing too dangerous around. At least, I think that''s what he said. He''s off gathering food now. Doing his best to keep us all alive. If I met him before I''d think him a horror. Ugly and coarse and stinking and brutal. Here in this place he''s the best person I ever met. We haven''t seen any lizardmen. Or insects. Or anything, really. Just these trees surrounding us like they know something we don''t. Does that even make sense? I wonder if I''ve gone mad. I don''t exactly feel calm. I don''t exactly feel scared. I don''t even feel numb. I wonder if maybe some part of my mind has made a decision; it wants to exist. It wants me to continue. Feeling scared or desperate or really anything isn''t particularly helpful, towards that end. And so this state of, for want of a better term, survival. That''s my theory anyway. I''m not questioning it too much. I''m just hopeful that perhaps I''m better and stronger than I ever suspected I might be.


    I do wish I had proper trousers, though.


    North stops his pacing. No, just turns to follow a new trail. Trail. Probably the wrong word. Depressions in the earth. Odd, seems odd, I have no bushcraft in me but the ground here, this dark damp earth, why would there be depressions? Any part lower than any other part? For that matter, why a clearing? Why do no trees grow here in this wide clear spot? But they''re not even trees, are they. That''s what the others said. Just vines in tree-shapes.


    I don''t know anything, it''s pointless to speculate. I questioned why we stopped here, this open area, but of course it''s so nothing can sneak up on us. My instincts are all wrong, I feel exposed and vulnerable but in this place I am always exposed and always vulnerable. But so what, really? What could I do, even if I noticed a threat before it befell me? I have no strength. Maybe I understand now, why people choose to be cursed. They say witches take whatever is most dear to you, but what does anything matter if you''re dead? If there were a witch here among us, I would beg her to curse me. I would give anything, to have strength.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    North has stopped again. He must be cursed. He killed lizardmen with his bare hands. But then what did he give in exchange? He seems perfect. What could he have possibly lost?


    "Good looking out!"


    That''s Tro. Just his voice from the jungle. Coming back with the boy Finn, and a mud-covered child, and the ambassador and the scout. Huh. It''s the gentleman and the murder girl. I saw them back near the arena. She looked at me and I wet myself. I don''t feel much about her now. I''m not scared, not any more than I''m scared of everything here.


    I look away. Gillian will deal with them. Judge them and accept them, or not. I''m qualified for nothing. Just follow as long as others will let me follow, and do my best to¡ª


    There''s something out there.


    Through the trees.


    Watching us.


    I blink and it''s gone. It was big, whatever it was¡ªbut no, that''s just me being foolish again. Can I see it now? Of course I can''t, because I imagined it. There are things out there, of course there are. But to think that I might notice before any of these others, before North and Gillian and the murder girl, and Nakob is out there scouting and hunting and protecting us, even Astra and Myriad are more sensible and useful than I am, there''s no possibility that I''d spot something before them.


    The others are talking. More people the better? Seems sensible but what do I know. Vee''s moaning again, Astra''s shushing her. Vee, Vee, Vee, that''ll be all of us. Why are we looking after her? What can she offer? Is that how I should be thinking now? Maybe what I should be thinking about is the woman who gave me that tea and those roots. Stoxan magic is strong, I''ve heard. The best healers in the world, if you can pay the price.


    Vee wails, cut off by Astra. I don''t know how she does that. Stops her from making noise. Now Vee''s just lying there, heaving and whimpering and swollen and sick.


    That Stoxan woman''s still out there. They hunt dragons, in Stox. She''d probably laugh at lizardmen. And she found me when I needed help.


    So maybe.


    Maybe.

 part three.5

    SUBJECT // thuli // stoxan healer //


    THEORY POTENTIAL // smothered //


    The little dragon reminds me of my brother. It looks at me the same way. Head turned to the side, mouth flat, eye shining. To find one alone is uncommon.


    "Hello," I say, and it hisses. "Is it me you''re hunting?"


    The little dragon cannot make the sounds that I make, and I cannot make the vibrations that it makes. Even so. The little dragon flicks its snout towards the man I am kneeling beside.


    "Ah?" I say. "But what about what he wants?"


    The little dragon bares its teeth and walks forward. So heavy, its footsteps. I am no longer reminded of my brother.


    "What do you want?" I murmur, to the dying man before me. His heart has been torn in two, a clumsy piercing by fine steel. His guts were spilled clean from his belly. His back has been feasted upon by carrion beetles, their sharp little teeth gouging curves from his flesh. Now the steel is part of him, melted against his chest and his back, filling the spaces left by the beetles'' feeding. Now his guts are gone, empty weight in their place. Now his blood runs thick, forced through his veins by a heart made of black stone and blue light.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Now he stands, to face his predator. No words, though speech has not been taken from him. No weapon, unless purpose can be counted as such.


    Perhaps the little dragon recognises the will to live. Perhaps it sees the light oozing from scars. Perhaps it heeds a vibration I am incapable of sensing.


    Whatever the reason, it stops.


    I think it would run.


    But the man does not give it the choice.


    I have little appetite for destruction. I leave the man to his mauling and trace a sigil in the earth. Protection and guidance struck through by hardship, entwined by determination, encircled by, let''s see ... perhaps we''ll leave it free. That seems appropriate.


    "Stop now," I say. The man hears me.


    "Why?" he asks.


    I brush away the sigil and raise my head. I can''t see the colour of his eyes. Only the brightness. He doesn''t have long, this one.


    Still. Longer than the little dragon.


    "Why?" he repeats.


    The little dragon wants to live, as dearly as the man does.


    But it is not a man. It is a beast.


    "Why?" once more, but already he understands. I step closer, reach out to take his hand in both of mine. Lean in and run my tongue over the blood there. It is his, and it is the little dragon''s.


    "You want to live," I say, and I release his hand. "What else?"


    He kneels so that our faces are level, close enough that I can see the colour of his eyes; as grey as a storm.


    "Revenge and such," he says. "The likes of vengeance."