“Mercurial Cichlid, on the Glass Flats,” I said, daring to run a finger along the jagged scar. Akishen immediately shuddered with a sharp intake of breath.

  “You travelled the Glass Flats at noon?”

  I nodded and shrugged. “Didn’t know any better. . . .”

  “Wow, you must be as dumb as me,” she giggled again.

  I laughed. “Must be! We were escaping Akhur'shet at the time. . . .” Two pure, blank faces looked back at me. Lenya, of course, had no idea what I was talking about, but Akishen. . . . I remembered the unsettled reaction I had from the coral-folk guard back in Zhai-Khul. I guess there's no point lying. "They tried to sacrifice us to their Spirit.”

  Lenya gave a gasp, but Akishen's expression dropped into consternation or disbelief.

  “Lenya, these are huge fish that float on the air, but their tongues are like barbed spears,” I explained to Lenya, moving along.

  “Doesn’t get scarier than them — nightmarish," Akishen said.

  “Appeared all of a sudden like liquid metal, forming out of the mirror floor. Seemed peaceful enough at first, then aye, its tongue shot out.” I chuckled, “Alator was pretty useless. Tried to punch it, but its body just rippled like he tapped a spoon on some jelly. I had a dagger and I tossed him the fang of the Snowdrift Serpent I’d killed — eventually we were beating it back, but it . . . lashed out. Caught me full. Tore my whole chest open. . . .” I trailed off.

  Akishen had crawled over for a better look by the flickering firelight.

  “It looks awful, but . . . not as bad as all that.”

  “It healed up,” I said. I forced a shrug and feigned nonchalance.

  “Mysterious,” Akishen said with a smile, but left it there.

  Lenya reached out a hand and touched the smooth scar. Suddenly, psycho pain in my chest thumped and my heart threatened to burst. I winced and grabbed her wrist.

  “It’s okay, Talbot, that’s enough,” Lenya said, her bright grey eyes looking deeply at me, sympathy pouring out. I felt myself flush red hot, then set about tying back up my Linothorax.

  I didn’t know I was still carrying this trauma. . . . My thoughts were dark, but perhaps due to the Warrior class, or my upgraded Mind Stat, this followed: I’ll have to work through that soon.

  Then Akishen yawned and stretched out her arms. “Well, that’s enough fun — enough — that’s enough for one night. Don’t think we’re close after this. Just like you said, we’re travelling together, best to know each other a little more, but this is out of my father’s good will. I’ll never forgive you.”

  I shrank back for a moment at the sudden change and venom, but saw a little twitch in her face that told me it was at least partly a front.

  “Hold on,” I said as she moved back to her pallet and started settling back under the sheet. “That’s three from me, only two from you.”

  She squirmed a bit under the covers, and pulled the wool over her head. I heard her little voice come out, a little musical and playful like a child’s:

  “Only have two. . . .”

  “You devious little . . .”

  Lenya laughed.

  “She got you, Talbot!”

  I feigned anger and shook my fist at her under the blanket. In the loose weave I imagined I saw her face twist into a smile and stick her tongue out.

  “Guess she did.”

  At first light, we packed everything up and headed back to the Trade Road. Alator was much the same, but the rest of us were positively giddy. The pain in my shoulder had lessened — I was now convinced that I healed faster than I did in my previous life; I hardly had much to compare it to, but I made a mental note to get more Constitution. We even shared jokes, and spoke much more easily to one another.

  Partway through the day, Alator suddenly stopped walking and announced:

  “I’m hungry, I have to hunt,” and then started walking off the Trade Road into the wilds.

  After shrugging to Lenya, I jogged after him. Akishen quickly followed.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “And what would you be hunting out here?” she asked him.

  My companion shrugged.

  “Would make more sense to hunt after another hour or so, we can make a fire at lunch, otherwise the meat will start to spoil.”

  “I’m hungry now,” he barked shortly, under his breath.

  “What’s to eat here?” I asked Akishen.

  She shrugged.

  “All kinds. Looks like there’s not been rain for a little while, but this plain is rife with herbivores that have fled the predators in the jungle.”

  We approached a thicket of dry grass, nearly as tall as a tree, each blade wider than my palm. Alator had a finger to his lips then pointed through the thicket. I glimpsed movement through the grass: a low shape with a long snout, rooting noisily through the dry earth. It was a massive anteater of some description, hide tough and dappled pale brown and red to blend with the scrub, except short, wide horns swept back from its head. The beast grunted, oblivious as Alator crept forwards.

  “Do we have a plan for —” Akishen started, but I clamped a hand over her mouth.

  The creature started, probably at Akishen’s gasp rather than her small voice, and its head twitched around in our direction. Like a shadow, Alator was beside it, his great frame shockingly silent. In moments, he was upon it, and with terrifying precision that I’d not witnessed from him before, he seized its neck with one hand and lower jaw with the other, and with a sickening crunch wrenched its head side to side. The anteater collapsed in a heap, a single death throe over in seconds.

  Akishen let out a low whistle. Alator carried the beast back to the side of the sparse and overgrown Trade Road and he crouched over the beast. Without a word, with pinched fingers, he instantly tore a strip of flesh from its flank with his bare hands and began to eat. Blood slicked his chin, and he chewed with the calm efficiency of someone eating bread (but not the crusts).

  “Absolutely not,” Lenya muttered, stepping back, turning away and gagging.

  “You’re disgusting,” I agreed.

  Alator ignored us, peeling away another piece of meat and nodding to Akishen. To my surprise, she grinned and squatted beside him, accepting the meat and biting in.

  Lenya’s shoulders trembled in revulsion.

  “We could have cooked it,” I said.

  “No time,” Alator glanced up, face bloody.

  I opened my mouth to argue, but suddenly my stomach churned — and not with disgust. I shook my head and shoved a handful of dried berries and nuts into my face.

  “Not so bad once you get used to the texture — sort of like salty leather.”

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” I spat.

  At long, long length, Alator stood, licked his lips and wiped his hands on the beast’s hide. Akishen followed suit. Blood caked the fur on her neck and a splash of water from her carafe did little else but move it around.

  Like a car backfiring, a sharp BOOM rocked the plain. It seemed to echo from the mountains and tear over and through us. All of us went rock solid and stared at the horizon. As we watched, dark clouds emerged as if from the mountain peaks, and boiled. As if at some command — in Barbican, who knows? — the air around us grew heavier.

  “Storm’s coming,” Alator grunted, cutting through the mystery and fear.

  “Lovely,” I muttered, and set off again for the mountains on the horizon. Lenya followed, pale-faced.

  The walk towards the mountains along the road seemed endless — that strange illusion where the mountains continue to grow taller and more imposing but never closer. And the air took more weight with every step. Beyond, the storm churned, black and grey clouds rolled over one another and twisted like the Boiling Sea. After a couple of hours, lightning began forking across the distant peaks, illuminated jagged ridges. Its flashes left spots in my vision, and each booming crack of thunder followed closer and louder than the last.

  As the foothills came finally in sight over the broad, arid emptiness, when the horizon ahead was only rock and rising ground, the wind picked up, carrying with it the scent of rain. The wind lashed us, whipping my cloak into wild shapes and forcing Lenya to pull up and hold down the hood of her robe. Alator strode ahead, pace unbroken. I moved to his side and matched him.

  Then with a sudden burst, the rain came — not a gentle patter, or a slowly building drizzle, but an instant deluge like an upturned bucket, or walking into the rain from shelter. Within moments, we were soaked, the mountain rain fell cold and heavy, plastering hair and fabric to skin. I pulled the Stonebear Cloak around me and found the worst of it ran off the thick fur, at least for a time.

  Lightning flashed again, closer now, stark and blinding, followed by a deafening clap that shook the ground. The peaks ahead were ALIVE with light and fury; the storm’s raw power echoed down the slopes like an avalanche.

  As I squinted through the downpour, discomfort had me reach into the stream of inner power that I’d come to rely on — the new, brown, sandy light of [Survivalism] glinted. Even knowing it was there grounded me, and I reached out for it. I turned my face to the storm, feeling for its signs, listening for its voice. I saw the rain wasn’t constant, that it ebbed and flowed in waves, the lulls came with drops in sound, like deep breaths before the storm surged again. My eyes felt clear, even pelted with rain, my senses were guided to sounds and smells.

  Somehow, I learnt the rain wasn’t clean; the faint tang of disturbed soil and crushed roots told me somewhere, rocks or a fallen tree had broken loose, scattering sediment through the storm. The texture of the soil changed, the surface loosed and steps became muddy.

  “Flash flood coming!” I shouted over the bedlam. Alator nodded.

  As I looked above, the Skill gave knowledge: Clouds moving westward.

  “It’ll pass in an hour as long as we stay out of the thick of it!”

  Peering through the heavy rain felt like squinting through deep water, but I saw the Trade Road heading upwards in a few different paths.

  Water pooling downhill — treacherous, came the thought.

  “We need to find higher ground — fast.”

  And at that moment the wind shifted suddenly, cold and sharp, carrying a smell I recognised, sharp and metallic, like burning wires, a static charge building and ready to explode.

  "And lightning!" I called.