“Stay still,” Lenya told me beside the fire, once we’d settled. Akishen had given us warnings about a fire, but after an hour in the blistering cold, had gone off herself to find kindling. Lenya fussed over the wound on my shoulder, stripping it carefully, her touch cold as ice, and then rinsing it and binding it with cloth. She muttered something unsurely about marsh infection.

  “I’ll just keep it clean. Don’t think we can really do anything about that, unless you’ve some antibiotics,” I laughed. Her face was unamused and confused. “A joke,” I added.

  “An-ti-bye-o-tics. . . . Something from your World?” she asked. Then she clapped her hand to her mouth and looked to the side to where Akishen was tending to the fire.

  Her small ear twitched underneath her thick orange hair, but she didn’t look up from the fire.

  “Don’t worry, I know Talbot and Alator are of another World, and I guessed Lenya was as well.”

  The fire crackled softly and lit the rock and the low branches above us, and was thrown out over the dusty ground into the darkness. Above, countless stars and coloured constellations danced, and the three moons protected the cardinal points. I shifted myself closer to Akishen and the fire, suppressing a wince at the pain.

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  She poked a log further into the fire and a spark flew to her face. Rubbing her cheek, moving the blue lines that ran from her eyes to her lips, she said, “Some of the Crimson Crown are also otherworldly interlopers. Before you ask, that’s all I know — just overheard them talking about things from their World, a bunch of things I hadn’t heard of and don’t really remember the name of. They called this a New World.”

  “Do you have any idea how we got here? Or how we can leave?” Lenya asked, hopefully.

  “None at all, sorry.”

  “But the Crimson Crown would know. . . .”

  I took a deep breath. Well, if the cat’s out of the bag. . . .

  “Lenya, there are World Portals that lead to different Worlds. I haven’t seen any yet, and I’m not sure where they are, but with my ability, I will know if anyone has come from another World, so we can question them. But . . . you and Alator are . . . special cases. My SYS pulled Alator from his World, and will not send him back until the World-Eater is defeated. You, on the other hand . . . we don’t know why — or how — you came here.”

  Lenya’s face dropped, bright grey eyes lit by the shifting fire.

  “Nor does my woretion. The Crimson Crown is still my best bet on how to go . . . home.” There was a long break before saying the last word, and she said it softly, with sadness.

  The crackling of the fire was the only thing that broke the silence that followed. It felt strange suddenly being away from the jungle that we’d been in for so long — the sounds of its insects and the alien calls that reverberated even high up in Ith-Korr’s lofty tiers were entirely absent, replaced only by the soft howling of the wind from the mountains through the foothills.

  “That’s going to leave an ugly scar,” I said, rolling my shoulder around.

  “A scar?” Lenya looked at me puzzled.

  “Oh come on, you’re messing with me. Scar tissue when the body repairs damages.” She shrugged. I pointed to the shiny skin on my hand from the Snowdrift Serpent fang. She blinked at it and grabbed my hand to inspect it.

  “Fascinating. . . .”

  “Elves don’t scar?” I said with more venom than I intended.

  Lenya’s face broke into a slow smile — the first I’d seen in a while. She just shook her head.

  “Whatever,” I took my hand back and turned to Alator. “You scar, right?”

  “I had a great number of awful, prideful scars,” he said with gritted teeth. He lay under the stars on his side with an arm over his head. He always struggled to sleep when there was any noise at all, even our hushed voices set him off irritated. “But not any more.”

  “Because of those gold things on your arm?”

  He didn’t respond.

  “What about you?” I turned to Akishen.

  “Don’t feign friendliness with me. I have not forgotten your conduct with my patha, nor your cold heartlessness.”

  “Simple question,” I clicked my teeth.

  She huffed and stood, moving away from the fire to her blankets and the soft pallet she’d made on a mound of red grass. After a little time, she asked:

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Are you asking whether Vyneshi scar?”

  “No, I’ve seen scars in Ith-Korr. Do you have any?”

  “That is a personal question.”

  “We’ve a few more days together,” I said, forcing a smile. Alator’s quizzical words about trying to keep Lenya onside rang through my mind, but I really didn’t have any ulterior motive as far as Akishen was concerned — honestly, I just enjoyed the company. . . .

  “I haven’t really held a conversation with anyone longer than ten minutes, aside from with Lenya and Alator, since I’ve been here. . . .” I trailed off, realising in saying it out loud just how true it was, then added, “Just looking to share scar stories.”

  I heard a groan from Alator’s hulking body, and he got to his feet. “Going to scout,” he hissed, and left.

  Akishen righted herself in her bed. Her auburn and brown hair, cropped short but with a long fringe, fell over one eye. The other, bright and orange, reflecting the firelight, studied me for a moment, then relaxed.

  “Fine. You start,” she said under her breath.

  “Phew, where to begin. . . .” I flexed my scarred hand, the faint indentations of the fang-mark twitching over the palm, with the subtle lines of its poison still present. “Since this one’s already come up — Snowdrift Serpent, enormous blue snake ambushing thing. Thought I’d got an easy kill after sneaking up on a wounded Warg, turns out this bastard was hiding, waiting for prey. It was way too fast for me, and Alator was too far away to help, so as a last ditch effort I grabbed its head. Misjudged a bit, in hindsight. . . . Bit right through my palm. Awful sharp pain, but the worst of it was the cold poison! Nearly did me in, right there.”

  My companions hung onto every word of the story. Lenya was wide-eyed and open-mouthed from the start, nodding and wincing at all the appropriate moments, her vast imagination clearly working overtime. Akishen started off with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, but by the time I was finished, she had the faintest start of a smile.

  “You slew a Snowdrift Serpent by yourself?”

  “You know them?”

  “Hardly, but I’ve heard of them. We pick up all kinds of stories from travellers along the Trade Road — said they can take out entire groups by ambushing, attacking swiftly, then disappearing and waiting for the poison to take hold.”

  “Sounds about right. . . .”

  This is fun!

  “Your go.”

  Akishen nodded and pulled her arm out from under the blanket. She ran her hand over it, moving the fur aside.

  “See the little lines there? Tangle vine. I was out gathering fruit a few years ago, not paying attention, and it snagged me. I’m wiser now. You probably think, ‘A plant can’t hurt you!’ But you simply don’t know the Korr Jungles well enough. It grabs, pulls, and cuts — like a dozen little knives. I was yellin’ and screaming, unable to get away, but luckily someone was in earshot. They . . . That’s enough. Got any more?”

  Just when she was getting animated. I saw a glint in her eye, eager for more stories.

  “Come on,” Lenya said. “Your skin’s a mess, must have loads more stories like that! Tell us one from your home World.”

  I shook my head.

  “Don’t have any from my home World — as I said, it was a pretty tame place, all things considered.”

  “Then another from Barbican!” Lenya chittered. She had crawled over to me and was sitting just inches away.

  “Okay. . . .” I edged towards the light and drew their attention closer, then held out my upturned arms to show all the small marks like cooking oil spits. “Cinderback Armadrax did that. MASSIVE thing, like an armadillo but huge, strong black plating thick as iron, lives on a volcano. . . . Made from the same stuff, I reckon.” I chuckled. “I’d got a bit full of myself, insisted to take it alone, Alator on the sidelines. After giving it every bit of strength I had, I found its weakness: when it reared up to smash me flat as a pancake, it revealed its softer underbelly. So I stabbed and I stabbed — bloody heroic, it was. Bit of a drawback, though: its blood was like molten tar, wet fire sprayed from every cut. Smoking hair, blistered skin, pure agony. Still feel the fire when I wake up, some mornings.”

  “Amazing,” Lenya breathed. “Much more violent than even I gave you credit for.”

  I guess that’s a compliment.

  Akishen was now fully wide-eyed, lip quivering with questions. She swallowed hard, resisting, then turned away from us and started untying the tight leather armour over her chest.

  “Akishen, you don’t need to —” I started, but she hissed through her teeth and continued.

  I averted my eyes as she let it drop down her back, then reached over her head and pulled up her thin undershirt.

  “See all the little dots along my waistline?” she asked in a small voice.

  I looked back at her. The fur was short and soft over her body, where it was thick and full over her arms and legs, and indeed, there was a small patch of white, bare skin at the small of her back that revealed a constellation of pin-prick scars.

  “I see ’em, now cover yourself back up,” I said, red-faced. Lenya gave me an elbow, her expression unreadable. Akishen did so, then turned back to us. The blue lines on her cheeks now ran over bright red skin, flushed embarrassed.

  “B-bit of a stupid one. Giant dumbledor bees,” she said, almost as a whisper. “I was twelve, shadowin’ a group of scouts for the first time. Big pride moment, ya? Anyway, I wandered off and tripped — always been a bit dim — right into their hive. . . . BUZZ!”

  She shouted the sound and we both jumped. I was hit by SYS PTSD for a moment.

  “The whole swarm came out like I’d splattered their queen.”

  “Might have!” Lenya gasped.

  Seeing my enrapturement and Lenya’s smiling enthusiasm, Akishen eased up a little. Her face settled into a mixture between resistance and genuine warmth and friendliness.

  “They’re huge, long as two thumbs,” she pushed her thumbs together. “And so bloody angry! I screamed and ran, the others got to me quick enough, but the dumbledors had got me good. The scouts were laughing at me, but they said I must have run lightning fast to get away with the small punishment I did — so there’s that. . . .”

  “Lucky we didn’t run into any of them in the Jungles! Sounds horrendous,” Lenya said. She sidled over to Akishen and put a hand on her leg. “If it helps, you’re still wicked fast.”

  Akishen then giggled a real young girl giggle. I wondered at her age.

  “Thanks,” she said, turning her head away. She rubbed her eyes for a second, then looked back at me sheepish. “A-any more?”

  “Okay, we’re bringing out the big guns,” I said before thinking. I reached up and started to untie and unfasten my linen armour, before hesitating. I looked around for Alator but saw nothing, then blew out my lungs and kept going. Pulling the stiff linen apart, I showed the wound on my chest — the wide, long scar that almost took my life.