We head north. Lictor leads his horse and walks beside it. He walks in front, in the middle of us. It's all immediately about him again. I wonder how he talked us into it, but Finna is dragged behind his horse, a rope tied around her ankle. She leaves a sharp wedge into the dirt path, the frozen strand of hair like a plowshare when she twists around so it cuts into the earth. Lictor showed us how rubbing a coal on her face didn't even leave a mark. It crumbled against her face, but the dust blew away, like her skin was glass. After trying to lift her and the corner of her shirt nearly breaking my skin, I decided maybe it doesn't count if she never learns about it.

"My honor dictates nothing is held back from her, but it is better we leave out this part," Rworg says, leaning down and speaking, so his hand covers his mouth.

"She will stay displaced for about a day. It was as much as I could manage," Lictor says, over the scraping sound Finna makes on the path. "The Monolith is what we call the facility. It is hewed from black stone, and it reaches nearly as tall as the treetops, but much further down below."

"Black stone? That sounds like your tombs," I say. The scraping sound is getting on my nerves, but most sounds at the moment are.

Rworg nods. "I have not heard there were any outside of the desert."

"This is the only one we know. We have kept it hidden. It is a place of great power and even greater mystery, and thus important for Tenorsbridge. You will reach it before nightfall. I will follow you as long as I can and make my own way back. The horse unfortunately can't go with you, but my gear includes tools you can use to transport Finna the rest of the way."

Rworg flips Finna around, as her nose strikes sparks on the gravel of the path and makes a loud noise. "Describe the place. You have only told us of it so far. What actually happens at this Monolith?"

"Mana runs wild. It's sucked up from the earth, swirls around the structure, and is shot into the sky. Life will go out of control and then die. The land will turn arid and desolate. We fear it will not stop, instead only increase in power and area."

"So, we saved Velonea from the Kertharians, but now it will die, nevertheless? Everything is even worse than before," I say.

"Hardly," Lictor says. "We live to fight another day. Even the Kertharians, thanks to you." The comment starts out hopeful, turning sour midway, before he gets back into control. "You would be surprised about the number of calamities and crises that have been averted over the centuries that Tenorsbridge has kept watch. We are a continent of magic and mishaps, adventure and danger, but not many know of that. Because of people like you, who weather the storm for the rest."

He still has it. Damn it, but he has. The breeze rustles the trees, the smell of gravel, warm from the sun, is in the air. I'm ready for another adventure.

The wind carries a new smell. A hint of rotten fruit, an acrid tang, salty and pungent at the same time. Lictor licks his lips more and more, eyes darting, The horse senses it too. It keeps snorting and turning its head from side to side.

"It is time," Lictor says. He lifts a finger and drags it across the air. Blue sparks shoot out like he is scraping metal with a piece of flint. They fly this way and that, following paths that seem completely random but floating generally toward the north, toward where our destination is. He puts his hand into his pocket and takes out the Time Gem. He sighs, balancing it on his palm.

I reach out my palm. I'm not sure what he is thinking. We fought so hard over it.

He places the Gem on my palm. "I'm entrusting this to you. It might be important, inside. This whole thing reeks of time."

I have no idea what he means or how to use it. I just don't want him to have it. He can have it back once we're done. Maybe. I close my fist around the Gem, hiding its reflections from sight. Lictor gives me a thick pouch. It has a leather strap that Rworg ties into a knot behind my neck. Lictor's nibbles at his lip as I slide the pouch under my tunic.

Lictor brought us a new map, less fine than the ones we had of Kerthar, but passable. At this point, I think I could follow the smell to the Monolith. It cuts through the air, almost a feeling more than a smell. Ozone, and something else. It makes my head feel light. "What should we expect once we get there?" I ask.

"Reality wearing thin, rules of nature fraying, crazed animals," Lictor says, shrugging. "I have no details to give you. This area is impossible to approach on a Ride. People got... lost." He licks his lips once again. "When you get there, find the thickest concentration of mana you can. Where it's thick enough to see, bright enough to hurt your eyes. Place her inside."

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"Then what? Just wait? How does the mana know what it's supposed to do?" I ask.

He grabs my shoulder and squeezes. "Finna will know herself. I'm confident you will figure it out. Figuring it out was the reason you were chosen in the first place. Just keep being a pain in the ass and you'll do fine." He chuckles, and his eyes wander off my face. Not because he was bored or wanted to see his favorite cloud, but just because the moment is weird and honest and awkward. He squeezes again and lets go.

Rworg has untied Finna and is already putting together the travois that we'll use to drag her around. It's going to be easier than just dragging her around on the ground. I remember we discussed how moving Rworg could be done, back at the beginning of our mission when he got hurt. Finna is luckily much lighter than he is, and Rworg is stronger than any of us, so this will be much easier.

"Normally, I could make her lighter, but doing that when you are entering such an area would not work. She will stay held, as she's not really here, not at this time," Lictor says. He kneels to brush the dust off her brow, carefully running his hand over her face and flicking off grains of sand from her eyebrows. "Bring... her back, will you?"

I rub at my chest, making sure the pouch is still in its place, the Gem inside it. "She will just stab you," I mutter.

The corner of Lictor's mouth twitches up, a flicker of a smile. "All the same. Maybe I'd deserve that." He throws himself on the saddle. "What little is known, has been written down. You'll find the documents in the bags I brought you. You should just need to find the control room and turn off the machinery Tenorsbridge placed there. I hope that it turns out to be even remotely as simple as they made it sound."

Rworg straps the bags Lictor brought to his waist. They are like saddlebags, but for him, dangling on his thighs, leaving his back free for the sword. I have two backpacks on, one on my chest. I got a new one full of provisions, but I'm not going to give up the one I got earlier in Tenorsbridge. It's starting to grow on me, and the hunting gear in it is such high quality, that I have to get it back to the village. Lille would scoff and tell me a good hunter doesn't need such extravagant gear, and drool. We would have a laugh about it, and she would show me how to make the most out of them.

Even more reason to get home. Lictor waves a hand and the horse whinnies. It looks happy to turn away from the direction we're going.

Lictor turns back in his saddle and waves his hand. "Watch out for all the teratomes!" he shouts, and rides quickly away.

Figures.

"He was joking, surely," Rworg says. He walks, like a bull tethered to a plow, Finna dragged behind him.

I'm biting my lip, considering if I could still run after Lictor and shoot him. Yet, I feel the change in the air already. It's thick, heady. I feel like I could run faster, jump higher. The leaves look vibrant green, the ground deep and dark brown. Above the canopy, air ripples softly, but that's not the weird part. Clouds form a circle. There's a round area of blue sky above us, even if elsewhere the sky is overcast. The sun beams down on us, the path behind us in stark shadow. The forest is going crazy, every bird tweeting and hollering. At least eight rabbits cross the path before us, chasing after each other, stomping and sniffling. I've never seen so many at a single time.

"Lively," Rworg says.

Weird, more like it. Even if the air didn't feel like breathing in ambrosia, the way nature acts is wrong. I see both spring and autumn flowers, ripe berries, and green sprouts at the same time. "Let's be careful. I don't know about teratomes, but there might be wolves, lynxes, or other large predators." If there's this much prey around, predators can't be too far behind. If they are as manic as the rabbits, they might even attack us. Everything seems to be in heat or bloom.

We carry on, the path winding its way into the forest. It hasn't been used much, but it's there. Not just a deer path, but something someone has cleared and maintained. The trees become thicker, older.

Rworg walks in front. The trees part, opening into a small clearing. He steps into the sun from under the canopy and stops. "There is nothing here." His voice is unsure as he pulls on his ponytail, turning his head around this way and that.

I jump over Finna to get to the clearing. It's big. There's nothing there. I feel like I should turn back. A bear appears, walking toward us. There's no way we could have missed it, but there it is, in the middle of the clearing. It rises to stand on two legs, pawing at the air with its arm-like front legs. It grunts and snorts, a challenge or a threat.

Hell. I would take a teratome any day of the week over a bear. They are strong, fast, intelligent. More dangerous than anything else you could run into in a forest. Usually, they avoid humans, unless you manage to get between it and its cubs. This one doesn't look afraid or like it's going to go anywhere. It falls down on all fours, muscle sloshing under its black fur. Its shoulders must reach up to mine, its head the size of a dog.

Rworg reaches his hand for his sword. I've never been happier he is with me. An arrow lodged into a leg or neck is going to make it harder for it to move, if not much else. Taking down a bear alone with a bow would be utterly impossible, but if Rworg is standing between the bear and me, I can at least help him. I shake off my backpacks and grab my bow. I still have most of the arrows Mandollel made me, but also a pack of new ones Lictor brought. There were different kinds, but there's no time to start searching for a broadhead arrow now. I nock the first one that happens into my hand on the string.

"Come! If you dare!" Rworg shouts at the bear. He walks toward it, sword held in one hand.

I want to scream at him, tell him to back away. It might still leave, but if we enrage it, there's no saying what will happen. It doesn't matter if Rworg is great at swinging a sword, he's facing a bear. A damn bear!

The bear growls and huffs. It opens its maw, showing canines as long as my fingers. The growl feels like it comes from inside my stomach, low and powerful.

"Co—!" Rworg shouts.

The bear kicks at the ground. It charges at Rworg, dirt and tufts of grass flying high into the air.

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