Licard walked up with Nux's collar in his grip, towing him along helplessly, heels skidding in the dirt. "He's got so much poison in his system that I've just given up on it. He pulled a dozen muscles, abraded and bruised .. We really should stop him doing this again. I'll heal injuries, but I don't want someone hurting himself just for the hell of it."

  I took Nux's sleeve, and Licard handed him off to me. "Nux, you heard the man right? You wait until we're in trouble before you jump in like that. You don't need to fight in every battle. I need you to use your brain more, and your brutality less."

  "The shark will dorsal for a morsel or she deals for a meal," Nux replied, holding my eyes very directly. God knows what he could mean by that.

  Depending on how the RNG procs, we could get from one to four more random encounters before we hit the clearing. Captain Maspers approached me, boots crunching over snow that broke in icy sheets over rotted leaves. "Did a head count. Missing one, the dark girl. Lari?"

  "Larianne, no nickname," I said. "She'll be by the corpse, draining blood. I'll fetch her back."

  "Why would she do that?" he said with distaste.

  "Best black dye in the world," I said, and he nodded his understanding as I walked over the rise.

  Larianne had propped the gaunt centaur over a stump and cut through its throat. She was holding a bottle under the wound with one hand, the other was pressing in its chest to try to pump the heart. I stepped down, making enough sound that I wouldn't sneak up on her, as I came up alongside her. "There's your problem," I said. "The heart's in the other torso. Lemme help."

  I did not put my hands on its stringy, filthy hide; I balled up a fist of wind and pressed it over the barrel of the body and then pressed down slowly, forcing the chambers to squeeze and pump its tarry black blood out through the wound in the throat. With the crossbow-crater held up on the stump and the cut throat lower, the siphon action put more of the blood into her bottle than spilling onto the ground.

  "Thank you," she said. Setting the bottle down. It clinked in the snow, tapping against a full bottle she had already capped.

  "Take the arms too," I said. "Someone in your family will know what to do with them."

  I'd done it again, said something that made someone give me that look. She craned her head around in strained disbelief. "All well, but how do you know what to do with them?" She was quite suspicious now, and quickly adding defensive and aggressive to that emotion.

  I held up both hands palm-out, unarmed, to show my good intentions. "Larianne, I've known about your family's little secret for my entire life. And I've never told anyone even once. And I never even mentioned it to you, because I wasn't sure that you were in on the little secret." Though I absolutely had my suspicions....

  She pressed her lips and narrowed her eyes at me, but nodded. "Those visions are dangerous," she said. "If you know things that nobody should know. My house, the patriarch Septimus... they would kill anyone to keep that secret."

  "I know," I assured her. "It's a good thing I've spent my entire life building a reputation for being able to keep secrets. I let my house get burned down for other people's secrets, and my friends died. I went to prison rather than reveal the secrets of people I actively hate. I'm losing my brother and there are teachers trying to kill me. Because of secrets. And I only have a few of my own."

  Her hands relaxed, and she corked the second bottle. "Well, if anyone in the world outside the family was to know.. probably best it was you," she said. "Anyone else would have either blabbed or blackmailed us by now."

  And then she flicked her fingers fast to the side, and the razor-sharp nails sliced through the chitin-jointed shoulder of the feral centaur. Then, the other. Without the segmented arms with their twiggy spidery fingers, the creature looked more like a deer with an unnaturally long neck and a head that was a little too ghoulish and primal to pass for a human, but too domed and predatory to really pass for a cervid.

  She folded the severed limbs up and tied them with a leather strap. They sounded like poorly-made windchimes as they clacked against each other, and she slid them and the bottles into a bag that she tied to the side of her backpack.

  We came walking back to find most of the group waiting impatiently, ready to be out of this nerve-wracking forest. Nux on the other hand had his sketchpad out and was furiously drawing, breaking away periodically to do his math in a separate column, and then coming back to his diagrams. I tapped his shoulder. "Brainstorm while we walk," I told him. "Quarl, could you lead at point?"

  The nine of us started walking, not quite single file. Quarl was out in the scout position, with his bow drawn and loaded, watching carefully all around. Tiviti and Larianne were twenty feet behind, moving carefully in his path, keeping an eye on the areas he had deemed safe. They muttered between them, and I listened in with owl's ears to hear them discussing technique and trade secrets, comparing methods. Captain Maspers was behind, holding one hand to the hilt of his sheathed arming sword. He moved with easy silence, every foot landing exactly in the right spot even though he never seemed to take his eyes off the most likely points of ambush. Licard came next, and though he moved with grace and subtlety for such a big man, he was still a very big man and could only cover so much. Periodically someone would drop back in line to get him to wipe out the poison they had contracted, or he would drop back to cure someone behind in line, and then we would move back to position. The environment forced us to shuffle frequently. Kimothy was next, and though he was lightly-built and flexible he was the least woods-wise of us all, his footsteps would be heard farther than anyone else. Thumper walked close with him, her feet moved lightly but she did not care what she stepped on; she held her rapier ready to draw and seemed to have assigned herself as Kimothy's bodyguard, murmuring assurances when ever he looked too nervous. Nux staggered along, only sometimes paying attention to anything at all, or randomly veering off the path or stopping. I used nudges of stiff wind to get him moving or steer him back in the right direction, focused nudges that felt more like batting hands than battering breeze.

  With my owl's senses turned up I could make sure nothing followed after us or approached from the sides. A good position for me. I did not have Quarl's training or instincts to avoid an ambush, so he would be best to deal with enemies that were holding still and quiet and waiting for us. With the healer in the center he had to move very little whenever one of us caught a leave or a falling twig. Except for Nux, who kept grabbing bits of leaf litter and rubbing them between his fingers, or tucking a twig behind his ear. It didn't ever seem to hurt him, so we just let it be. Maybe whatever these plants did to people was the same as what was wrong with him full-time.

  I was not particularly light-footed either. I was concentrating on keeping the Madman on the path and moving, keeping an eye on the rest of the line to make sure nothing was going wrong all along the party, scouting with senses for anything trying to sneak up behind us or dash in from the flanks, and also keeping time for rest breaks or our next encounter.

  The monsters were not stupid. They moved around us sometimes, and gauged our responses. When a troop of nailmonkeys approached under cover of shrubbery I warned them off with a flurry of razor-sharp knives flinging at them- they broke and ran. They tried to set ambushes ahead of us, Quarl spotted them and steered around.

  Periodically the skywhales would soar overhead. They were not numerous, but they moved with surprising speed through the sky. And their sheer incredible size made them noteworthy, striking. Each one of them took up so much sky and took so long to go by that we spent a lot more time within sight of one than I would have expected. They made noise, too- a sound that had the tone of a screech but the timbre of a groan. Loud and low but still somehow raptorial. They were not whales crossed with pterodactyls, they were whales multiplied by pterodactyls.

  And they were distracting enough for the blackharts to take their shot. Quarl was only giving part of his attention, and I was dampening my hearing to avoid being deafened. Most of the group was unabashedly staring straight up, and the centaurs came dashing in at high speed. They had been positioned out loosely, to make themselves harder for Quarl to spot, less than an organized ambush but more savvy than "stand around and wait for us to stumble onto them".

  I didn't see them until they were well in motion and way too close, and the skywhale was making too much noise for me to shout a warning. I dropped to one knee and flung a spray of slashing steel stars to the left and right, to try to break the charge of those centaurs attacking the flanks. It did not work, they did not flinch- they would rather take a hit than to lose their advantage in this attack.

  Any animal would rather miss a meal than take an injury. More than anything, that's the difference between animals and monsters. When a monster sees a chance to do harm and deal death, that becomes their priority, even over their own lives. Monsters fight to the death. Almost all forms of animals will only do that to protect their young or if there's no choice.

  So the blackharts were trailing their inky blood as they charged, arms grasping forward like rows of wooden pikes. Bleeding and wounded, they were maddened in the attack. My people were responding, backpacks dropping to the ground, weapons scraping clear of scabbards. They only needed a few seconds to get ready, and maybe I could give them that.

  I started pushing wind out towards the creatures, gale-force buffeting to break their stride and turn them aside, but not enough to turn the tide. And then mists boiled up and swept around, pushing out a low-crouched cloud. The centaurs crashed against that wall, my winds took their speed and the mist took their movement. And then Tiviti's sword stabbed out, Quarl's quarrels sang. Sir Maspers and Thumper had the same idea, both of them leaping up on top of the solidified fog bank and attacking downward with their swords. With a sigh of relief, I stood back up and brushed my palms off on my thighs, my team took it from there.

  And I watched Thumper's rapier stab into the forehead of a monster, just above the stained muzzle. She pierced straight through the bone of its skull, and a crackling sound told me that the break of the bone was much larger than the width of her blade. The she twisted that blade, and the creature's head split open vertically, splashing out copious black tarry gore over its lower jaw and it dropped immediately. From far ahead, past all the moving bodies and roiling fog, I could hear something fast and sharp moving through bony bodies- Larianne's talons carving away.

  The indicator in my vision stated this battle was a Strength 15 challenge, but my team was defeating it with no casualties at all. A good party. Nux glanced at me, his eyes forlorn. He wanted permission to slip the leash and go rip-and-tear on these monsters. "Not yet," I said to him. "I'll confess, normally when I would play this game, I would not even attempt this quest for another two years, minimum. I would want to be higher level, more powerful. But this team does good work. And if we get in trouble, I can do explosions- but I think that might cause more trouble than it's worth, really. And getting these experience points early is an investment in the future. Not to mention the actual money."

  Nux stared at me, or maybe just a little bit past me. One of his hands started twitching arhythmically. "I smell dead people," he told me.

  "Let's hope not," I said. The fight was dying down, the last blackhart centaur was groaning as the guardsman's arming sword pierced its ribs, and sliding to the ground in a heap.

  [ You have earned 1 experience point. You are now a Level 7 Sorceress. You have 0 experience points. ]

  "Oh, neat," I said. I started to reach for my upgrade point, to add it to my Strength like I had the last five of them. But... I rarely run across challenges that I cannot beat. There was Suthie Vanderbolt, from Stutin Institute, sure. And these fights with these monsters are out of my league. But I don't have to fight these fair. I've got a quest to deal with Suthie, I'll be able to think and plan and maneuver my way to defeat her. And these monsters in Uchislowi? I've got a party. And a void-weapon.

  Maybe I need to consider that most of my problems are not caused by weakness. I might be strong enough already.

  Licard was moving through the group, going back and forth to mend wounds and cure anyone who came in contact with the forest. The dust was kicking up something fierce, but my wind was pushing it all out and away, keeping the rest of them clear. Nux turned away from me, and out at the others. "Spices! There are spices in the spaces and we gotta let them out!"

  And of course everyone ignored his yelling. Me, I was just glad to be back at school. Not the Academy, that place was weird, but finally at a good proper school with lockers and fluorescent lights, and a big yellow bus in the morning. It had been ages since I'd been in one of these, but at least everyone loved me.

  The halls were my domain, I could feel the stares of envy and lust, and I smirked and pretended to ignore them. Blazers and ties, Jansport backpacks. I felt my phone in my pocket and I felt like I could sing. God, I've missed my phone! I haven't had it in ... I don't know. So long. Too long. Why? I don't remember.

  Everything was perfect, in a way it never had been before. Tennis shoes felt like freedom, calf-length-socks felt like heaven. The skirt that brushed around my knees was a surprise of the best kind, and I tossed my hair. Simple barrettes, so easy to manage.

  I was a goddess here, everything perfect. I cross my legs and a dozen eyes are mine to control. There's always a way. But goddesses live in endless white spaces, and mine was beige and dun. The stairs creaked under my shoes, and the quiet was a weight across my back. I left prints in the dust, history shaved down to a fine grit and sprinkled over every surface.

  There's no money for servants, but you'd think we should at least have the pride to clean up after ourselves. Things don't clean themselves by magic. Yes they do. No of course they don't that's silly, everyone know it doesn't work like that. I've got an affinity, I've learned to curve the spells. Nonsense. Dust needs a broom.

  The hallways here are narrow and steep, and cobwebs brushed my forehead. Dammit, why doesn't anyone fix anything here! Spiders in the cupboards! I need a broom to clean this away. But the broom is in a quiet place, and there are noises chasing me. I turn on the lights, flickering bulbs. The power here seems weak, but I can find it. Electricity across the filament, and I can leave the noise behind.

  I come from a good family. A good girl. Good upbringing. Who cares that a good family can be bad people. It's not real it's not real it's not real. I don't have any right to complain. The house is fine. My family is nice. And a nice boy with money will find me, and everything will be just like it's supposed to be. If enough people love you it's okay to be alone.

  Why am I alone? Is he gone? He was right - no, I haven't seen him for weeks. Years. Ever. Never. Yesterday. I have a brother. He's fake. I'm fake. I've been lying and getting away with it. I'm not real and he's not my brother. It was supposed to be me.

  Where the fuck is that broom?! I shove open doors, brass knobs rattling. Latches. The doors all have latches. There's no doorknobs here, never have been. That's stupid. There's always been doorknobs. Round and bright and high overhead.

  Where is it where is it where is it? The broom, the round broom in the sky! I miss it, sometimes, Tiviti. Tiffany. Tiffany's never heard of the broom.

  I swipe at my face, something over me. Dust again. Webs again. Leaves. Veil.

  Today's the day at last. Everything will be fine now. Nobody laughs at me anymore. Good girl, dressed in the void, hydrangea bouquet, the veil makes everything white. I walk in snow, I walk in white. Wedding day at last. I walk the aisle, the music, the staring eyes. Back at the pub they'll remember me. They'll talk about me.

  Love goes in and away. Tides and traffic and a soft-voiced midwife, is there a name? The knife went all the way through me, but I come from a good family, and that's what matters. When the knife is done with me I have to give it a name and care for it.

  "Hold her down!"

  "Where is that coming from?!"

  "Knock her out if you have to, we can't take much more of this!"

  "I said hold her down!"

  "How is he doing that?"

  In a dress in an aisle in a crowd in a church in a song in a town in a place I hate.

  The veil is wrong, it doesn't match. It was given to me by spiders there are worms in my dress. All the warmth has left the world because now I've signed the paper now I've said the words now I've traded my life for my mother's life and I have to live it just like she did and I had to make the right decision.

  The right decision no matter what.

  "It's working!"

  "That's not me, she's fighting it."

  "How? Fucking how? That's-"

  "Steaming dreaming all alone, sheeping sleeping like a stone!"

  "Get him out of here!"

  I saw the day that love died forever.

  With a huge gasp I try to sit up, and there are hands clutching at me. They're frozen in place, I'm surrounded by people who can't see me. And I'm laying on a cloud.

  "The fuck?" I said, and blinked, taking stock. The last several hours have been... really weird. I was back at school, I was someone else, I had a different life.. Parts of my life and my real life, all fused together. Stuff I saw on TV, stories I've told, lies I've made up...

  Everyone around me is statues. I'm laying on a bed of solid mist. We're in the wilderness, the forest- no, the jungle. I remember now.

  We were fighting blackharts. And I knelt down, but-

  Fuck. I got the toxins from the tree. I was hallucinating. I took deep breaths, and tried to center myself. I took stock.

  Nux was holding me, and he looked like shit. Burned badly, scorched, bleeding. He had me by both arms and was pinning me down, his hands are raw. Licard, gritting his teeth, was holding my head in both hands. Thumper had gripped one leg, and she was wincing hard like it hurt to touch me. Kimothy at a distance, concentrating. Tiviti on my other leg, and she had an earring glowing so brightly it hurt to look at. All of them moving in slow motion, just now starting to come up to speed.

  Oh, I'm channeling lightning. I shut that off.

  And abruptly they're all moving at full speed again, shouting, moving, flinging me around- I shout to them that I'm all right, but I can't make myself heard. I tried not to fight them, and a minute later they noticed I was still again.

  Licard looked down at me. "You're all right?"

  "I am."

  "You've still got a ton of that poison in you," he said. "I'll keep working on it."

  Thumper fell back, panting in exhaustion. "You should work on Nux first, I think he's dying."

  The [ Madman ] was twitching all over, and steam poured off of him. His eyes were unfocused and his whole body was arched in lines of agony.

  Tiviti glanced around. "What happened to him?"

  "Looks like electrocution," I said, patting at my head. Fuck, everything hurt. "What did I do?"

  Licard started moving his attention to Nux, but he kept an eye on me. It was Sir Maspers that was going to explain things.

  Suddenly I'm not feeling a lot of trust in this evil jungle.