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SHIFTER KING
JESSICA M. BUTLER
Copyright © 2022 by Jessica M. Butler.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and
retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Jessica M. Butler/Enchanting Chimera Publishing
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales
and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses,
companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Cover Art: Mirela Barbu

 Dedicated to my brothers, Elijah, Reuben, Samuel, Byron, Tom, and Jared.

I have been tremendously and greatly blessed to have some of the real life best brothers in all the
world, each with different strengths and charms.

Gentlemen, I am glad you are in my life and thankful for all the precious memories we share.
Here’s to many more, and may you all be greatly blessed in all you do.

Good brothers make the world better in every possible way.

 CO N T E N T S

1. Awakening
2. Still Weak
3. The Bunker
4. Scavenged
5. The Strange Mantises
6. A Sign
7. Release
8. Held
9. What Once Was Darmoste
10. The Monument
11. Rage and Compassion
12. The Bealorn Proposal
13. A Poor Host
14. The Purpose of a Reputation
15. The Quiet of Home
16. The Sand Pits
17. Illusionists
18. Three Steps
19. Dreams and Shifting
20. Baby
21. Healer
22. Underground
23. Before the Queen
24. An Opportunity
25. The Choice
26. The River
27. Doctor
28. The Cell
29. A Second Option
30. The Two Bealorn Leaders
31. A Pearl
32. Insult
33. Injury
34. A Plea for Help
35. Time Passes
36. Rest
37. Protection
38. Presented
39. Searching
40. Revealed
41. Falling Apart
42. Wounded
43. Stranger
44. The Prince’s Chambers
45. Relentless
46. Petition
47. The Steel Tower
48. Bride
49. The Wedding
50. Enough
51. This Kiss

Teaser
About the Author
Also by Jessica M. Butler
 AWAKE N I N G

T he last thing Amelia wanted to do was sleep. It reminded her of the terrors in Dry Deep, of
darkness that didn't end and nightmares that took shape all on their own. But resting in
Naatos's arms with the worn brown blanket draped over them in the hammock beneath the massive
tree with Tacky purring delightedly at her shoulder…well, it wasn't so bad. It was good.
She snuggled closer, her cheek pressed against Naatos's broad chest. He'd removed the leather
brocaded doublet and mostly unfastened the black undertunic, allowing more warmth to reach her.
He'd said she was chilling before, but that wasn't the case now.
The thudding of his heart was steady, rhythmic, pleasant. She kept her eyes at most half shaded as
she listened to his heart and to the fire as the logs crackled and popped in the heat.
Just knowing he was here soothed her. How strange was that?
Perhaps not so strange now. The smile pulled at her lips as she curled her fingers against the
curve of his bicep.
The blue dolmaths milled about on the packed earth below, languid in their stroking and
snuggling. All contented from the sounds of them. A good number weren't even insisting on being up
against one of the brothers. Everyone but QueQoa slept now. And QueQoa stood guard, outlined by
the firelight with three or four dolmaths moving along his feet and calves.
She frowned. The dolmaths that they'd first met in Ecekom had been so desperate and eager,
clawing and tapping and circling all through the night, swarming whoever they could. These dolmaths
were far calmer. They had little dapples and speckles all over their bodies and striped forelegs. A
little more delicate too, especially at the feet.
Their soft pattering footsteps reached her mind like rain dancing on a shingled roof. She flattened
her hand over Naatos's arm, her thumb tucked beneath her chin. Other than the fire, Naatos's scent
dominated her awareness now. Oiled leather, worn cotton, smoke, musk, and woods.
Her eyelids drifted shut as she slid back and forth between sleeping and waking, enjoying the
simple way that the air filled her lungs and then left just as easily. It didn't smell sweet exactly, but,
after everything in Dry Deep, the sensation had a sweet pleasure to it. She'd never understood that so
well as she did now.
Dry Deep had brought so much into perspective. Even if she couldn't remember it all. The weight
of it hung over her, an ever-present reminder of how often escaping it had seemed impossible.
Her gaze fell to her hand and wrist, then traveled up to her shoulder.
Thin black lines and curls covered her arms. Probably the rest of her body as well, merging with
the venom scars and bite marks. The final traces of the long leech venom. She turned her hand over. A
few cut through her wrist elmis. Would this affect her ability to read minds or mastering her skills?
 Hmmm.
Even now without even trying she could feel each member of her family in this place. Naatos
slept in a state that was more exhausted than peaceful. AaQar had entered a dark calm sleep.
QueQoa's watchful aura carried tinges of hope that the future that lay before them was not so bleak.
Flashes of startlingly clear images reached her for a moment. Too fast to comprehend before they
passed. And WroOth's presence was only a little chaotic, like a candle flame that sometimes spurted
and then returned to a normal strength.
No nightmares.
Good.
So what impact did these lines and cuts over her elmis have? Range perhaps? She'd grown close
to all of her family in these past weeks. Maybe discernment and nuance? Perhaps just her endurance
overall?
Oh.
She let her eyes slide shut again. What if it meant she couldn't ever climax again? Wouldn't that
just be perfect?
Shaking her head, she tucked her wrists back against her torso and restrained a laugh. If that was
the worst to come from escaping Dry Deep, she was lucky. And there was no way to know yet. So
why take on more burdens now?
Even if what was here and now was all she could enjoy, it was better than it had been a couple
months ago. And that was something. Small improvements counted. Life counted.
Naatos's heart beat steadily beneath her fingers. She found it easy to slow her own breathing to
match his, but sleep would not come for a long while. And that was all right.

NAATOS WOKE SHORTLY BEFORE DAWN . That distinct stillness. The change in the air. The greyness in
the sky on the eastern horizon. He knew it well, and every part of his mind had awakened.
The time for rest had passed. They had perhaps two weeks before the coming of one of the worst
Grey Seasons this world had ever known. Unless someone found a way to stop it.
Laachtue had said they might find a way to stop it if the levy was paid. That made little sense. The
Grey Season was a force of nature. What could possibly be done to stop it? Under AaQar's watch as
Para, there had been scientists and learned scholars who sought to weaken it. A few had had some
unusual theories. AaQar had always found it fascinating. He likely knew more about this.
But levies meant taxes. This government was obviously corrupt. Would they be so corrupt and
cruel to allow a horrific cataclysmic event occur simply because they did not get what they wanted?
Or was it merely a tactic to wring more from the people? Fear was such an effective tool.
But if the Abliatos could actually make such a threat, that meant they had a way to control it. And
if they had a way to control it, that meant someone else could gain control as well.
Amelia still lay against him, her head beneath his chin and her fingers splayed out over his heart
as if she drew some comfort. Her breaths at least were steady, even if they did have more of a
sandpaper quality than he would have liked. The bite of Dry Deep remained on her. Slipping his hand
to the nape of her neck, he pressed his palm flat. How much strength had she lost? Even now he could
feel each bump in her vertebrae more clearly than ever. He closed his eyes and channeled focused
healing energy into her.
 Nothing.
Dropping his head back, he clenched his jaw. The effects of Dry Deep would linger long after
their escape. Not even its acrid scent had faded. And with the current state of Ecekom—he had to find
somewhere safer for her.
This place near the flat side of the cliff with the trees providing half a circle of protection would
not withstand an assault long. Even with AaQar preparing more rels to provide a barrier against the
bestial predators of Ecekom, it would do nothing against the sentient ones. Alone or against only his
brothers, these so-called warriors would offer little challenge. But Amelia’s body felt as sturdy as
dried and rotted wood.
His veskaro. His most beloved of all.
He kissed the top of her head and cradled her closer.
As good as it was to be here, to hold her and to cherish these moments, he needed to leave if he
was to scout out a secure place. And then they would have to determine what was to be done about
Darmoste, now known as Darmusky. He still had yet to tell his brothers about even the little he had
seen, though they had gotten a decent enough preview from Laachtue to suggest that there was far
more and far worse.
His chest tightened, and bile forced its way up the back of his throat. He clenched his jaw.
Slavery? Comfort houses? How could their people be broken so completely?
"If you're going to get angry, it might be wise to leave the hammock," AaQar said from the fire.
"You might give her nightmares, and that is one of the last things she needs."
His older brother was not actually a mindreader at all. But sometimes he was far more aware than
any other Vawtrian Naatos had known. "All quiet during your watch, I assume?"
"During QueQoa's as well. One seven-clawed raptor scout, but it didn't come too close."
"It's Dry Deep. They hate it, the Forest Between, and a fair bit of the land surrounding it on this
side. We hardly need the rels." He tried to sit up while shifting Amelia over into a better position.
The hammock swayed. She grimaced as Tacky protested.
He growled low with frustration. He hated hammocks because of how difficult they were to
escape. Trying to get out of them when his wife was fragile as kiln-dried bones was all the more
terrifying.
AaQar lifted Amelia away smoothly and carefully, Tacky the dolmath moving to rest on her
stomach.
Naatos climbed out with far less grace than he preferred. But once his feet returned to solid
ground, he took Amelia back into his arms and placed her in the blanket hammock once more. He
pulled the blanket up and tucked it around her shoulders and chin. "Make sure she stays safe while
I’m gone." It wasn’t something he had to say, yet there was comfort in the words.
Just as there was comfort in AaQar’s response. "Of course."
He dragged his hand through his hair as he stepped back. She had survived. She was a fighter.
She’d defied impossible odds to make it this far. She could make it still farther. Yet that dull
unsettling knot within his stomach remained. That fear that if he took his eyes off her she would
disappear. Someone was trying to take her from him, and whoever they were, they would not succeed.
"Will you eat before you go?" AaQar asked. "I haven't prepared anything yet. But there is still
stew. Probably better now. Especially as it hasn't burned and WroOth has not added to it."
It would be wise to eat, but he had no appetite. "I'll just take one of the opi bags."
AaQar offered him one. The top panel had been mended with a coarser darker thread. "I
replenished the food stores. The sooner you return the better though. You're going north?"
 "Just far enough to see if it is still as dangerous as it was." He accepted the bag and picked up his
spear. "We'll likely be better choosing some place close to Darmoste."
"Yes." AaQar chuckled a little as he turned back to the fire, his expression contemplative. "I doubt
the northern mountains have become any less hostile over the millennia. Even if only the cabizas
remain, if they have that manticore venom, it could mean dire things. Especially if QueQoa is bitten
again. I'm not fully certain he's recovered from it. If the orcas are still present, we'll have our hands
full regardless. I'll assume that this whole matter of the Grey Season being controlled has you as
suspicious as I."
"Yes. We'll make what preparations we can. Have QueQoa and WroOth gather food and make
supplies. Weapons. Rope. Tools. Once we are in a more secure position, we will decide what to do
with Darmoste. But keep them close. I'll return no later than noon."
"Do not put yourself at unneeded risk," AaQar said. "If the Bealorns return, we will handle them.
But we may have to move ourselves. We'll set up warning signals to alert us if they draw near."
A good plan, especially if all of the Bealorn so-called warriors had the same ability to mask their
scent. It would be good to know how they managed that. He nodded, then strode away from their
camp and into the forest.
Before the dark leaves and thick underbrush fully obscured his sight, he glanced back once more.
AaQar had returned to the fire and tended the stew with the newly-mended spoon. His spoon that one
of the Bealorns had decided to break and which WroOth had killed the offender with. WroOth and
QueQoa slept peacefully enough. And, while from this angle he couldn't see anything more of Amelia
than her outline in the brown blanket hammock, he knew she was there. There and resting and getting
stronger. Breathing. Living.
She had survived. She had fought to get back to him and escaped the ravages of Dry Deep and the
horrors of a curse pushed to its limit. Even if she felt brittle as a sand dollar left out in the sun for
centuries, she had the spirit of a Vawtrian warrior, and she would not give up.
And that mattered more than anything to him.
 S T I L L WE AK

A melia didn't even realize when sleep came until she heard the metal racks clattering and
something hissing over the fire. Naatos was already gone, and she lay on her back rather than
on her stomach.
Opening her eyelids once more, she stared up at the sky. Blue. Azure through green leaves. So
beautifully familiar she could have mistaken it for an Indiana autumn. No nightmarish visages hung in
the clouds. No eyes bulged from bark formations. Just calm.
Naatos must have tucked the blankets around her; they were neatly pressed around her neck and
shoulders to keep every breath of heat in. It had worked. She was cozy. Tacky rested on her stomach.
She sat up carefully, one hand holding Tacky up so he didn't slip away.
Someone had caught fish and butchered it. Large slabs of something that resembled salmon sizzled
over the grill. The collapsible kettle hissed as well and the cauldron of stew simmered over another
fire. Proteus rested on the far side of the fire, nearest the open air and clearing that trailed back to the
Forest Between and Dry Deep. The bavril appeared perfectly healthy, still looking far more like a
giant anteater than any predator she had ever seen. All appeared as ordinary as if they had been here
for days. Perhaps they had. How long had it been since they left Dry Deep?
AaQar crossed in front of her. A little bit of ash streaked his gaunt cheeks, and the heaviness
under his eyes suggested that he had not rested so well either. He held out his hand, his loose silver-
blue sleeve swinging with the movement. "Do you need help?"
"I just feel a little shaky." She rubbed her arms. More than a little shaky actually. A bit hollow. A
little raw. Rather spent. As if someone had scooped out her insides and filled her with over-boiled
noodles. As if her body wasn't attached to her spirit just right.
He gave his hand a small shake and stepped closer. "You probably will for a few days. Maybe
longer. There's no shame in needing help."
As she gripped his palm, she grimaced. The bones in her hand ground slightly, and she nearly
toppled out of the hammock even with his help. The hollow sensation made her legs shake. Strange.
Naatos had healed her. Yet even now she felt as if she had been unspooled onto hot pavement after
swimming against the current for a good hour or two. She held onto AaQar's hand tighter, her body
trembling with the effort. He slid his arm around her waist and guided her to the nearest log.
"You might want to eat before you try walking." He set her down and then stepped back. The
family resemblance between him and Naatos was especially pronounced now with their black hair
and sharp light-blue eyes. Though his features were more elegant and Naatos's more squared, it was
that underlying intensity and sternness that really made them seem similar. He used words that made it
seem like this was a suggestion, but it wasn't. "The fish is mild. You'll try that and tea. Then you'll be
better."
Hopefully. Not especially likely though. People didn't just bounce back from something like this.
At least she couldn't imagine they would. Her soul still didn't feel like it fit properly in her body.
Despite all the horror, that blissful floating sensation remained clear in her mind. Returning to her
body had felt…wrong. Like it wasn't hers. Really though it didn't look like her body.
Not really.
The long trailing black veins marked her arms and legs even more thoroughly than she
remembered. The marks might disappear in time. Her bones and veins stood out. Her muscles seemed
to have shrunk as well. Strange to look at your hands and feet and not recognize them. For once, the
old scars were comforting. Familiar in their consistency like anchors to a past that now seemed far
away.
AaQar placed a piece of fish wrapped in a leaf into her hand and set her canteen of tea beside her.
"Small bites and sips. Chew thoroughly. Do not rush."
"I look like a relief map," she murmured.
"Frankly, you should just be relieved you're alive." WroOth dropped an armload of logs onto the
fire. Sparks flew as they clattered against one another. "You got much too close to dying, and in the
future, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't."
She glanced up at him, offering her own crooked smile as she tried to tease him. "I suppose if you
insist."
"I meant it when I said I wouldn't forgive you if you died." His turquoise eyes remained stern, the
pain vivid still.
The intensity underlying WroOth's words left her little doubt. She dropped the joking. "I'm not
planning on doing it any time soon. I will be careful."
"Good." He adjusted the wood, his hands moving quickly. Smoke coiled up and disappeared into
the air. "Don't ever."
A hard thing to promise not to do and mean in a world like Ecekom. The realization that there
were indeed other people brought little comfort. Especially not based on how they acted. Not
everyone could be that way here. Not everyone could be horrid. But what had happened to make it
this way?
He left without saying anything more, shoulders tight and an obvious sign that he was still angry
and worried. It must have been even worse than she thought. How long had it really been? Squinting,
she realized that she had no concept of time. Though she had never been great at tracking time for
more than a short period, it felt as if they had been in Dry Deep forever. Time had no meaning there.
The pulse in her skull continued, but it did not hurt. It was just uncomfortable. She closed her
eyes, breathing in the steam from the tea. The Ki Valo Nakar lurked somewhere back in her mind.
Probably resting as it had promised. Eager to assert itself eventually. Especially once she was
stronger. If she stayed still long enough, she'd fall asleep again.
Cool fingers pressed along her throat, searching for a pulse. She winced a little, cracking her
eyelids to peer at AaQar. "I'm fine."
He tilted her head back, examining something along her neck and shoulder. "You're doing far
better than you have any business doing."
"I do enjoy being defiant."
"You'll need to continue to take it easy though."
"How easy is Ecekom likely to let me take it?"
The quirking of the smile at the corner of his mouth suggested it was amusing, but that ragged
caution that exuded from him dominated everything else. Not that he would want her to know. "It's
going to take you longer to mend than you or Naatos will want."
"Given that we both want everything now, probably so." She managed another sip of tea. "What
can I do to make it faster?"
"Rest. Eat. Drink. Avoid getting into trouble. No more Dry Deep, of course. Certainly do not let
the Ki Valo Nakar do anything with any of its powers any time soon. It took you to the brink of death
to make its point, and it may do so again unintentionally."
"I don't think it's awake right now." She rubbed her temple. Her head did feel strange. Hopefully
the Ki Valo Nakar continued to rest. Later on, she was going to have to deal with this, but she wasn't
even sure what that would involve. The fact that the Ki Valo Nakar had no other option for a host
other than her meant she had far more power than she otherwise might have. But that didn't mean it
was going to cooperate or make her life easy. "Can I help with anything?"
"You can get better. Naatos can't heal you fully from this. Perhaps nothing but time can. You can
also finish eating that fish and drinking your tea."
Somehow that seemed harder than helping to do whatever tasks around the camp needed tending.
QueQoa appeared on the south side of the camp, carrying what looked like two silver salmons
over his shoulder. Their still-wet scales left imprints against his cotton cobalt tunic. His doublet must
have been left somewhere else. He broke into a smile when he saw her. "You're alive."
"I am."
He looked her up and down, his forehead creasing. His mouth pursed with contemplation. "You
don't look good."
AaQar sighed audibly from somewhere behind her.
She laughed, then nodded. "I bet I look like crap."
"No. Just like you lost a few fights and went through Dry Deep. But you do look better than you
did before. Will you eat the fish? Do you need something else?"
"Fine. I'll eat the fish." Everyone was worried. Her elmis were still working. Almost alarmingly
well. She could pick out each of the brothers and their general mood still. If she focused, she might
even be able to pick out the specific worries even though it didn't take mindreading to guess most of
it. Naatos wasn't near though everyone else was.
Where was he? She glanced around, her gaze drawn to the deeper forest beyond their camp. If she
had to guess, he was there.
"He's scouting," AaQar said. "We'll be finding a more secure location. How much do you
remember since we left Dry Deep?"
"Not much," she admitted. "Not yet at least. It's all rather blurred."
"A fair bit has happened." He told her about what had happened after they escaped from Dry Deep
while he scaled and cleaned the fish. How ill she had been. How they had searched for aid. How
Naatos had found an Abliato doctor who was able to use her medical knowledge and telekinetic
abilities to remove the long leeches and venom. And how a group of Bealorns had arrived and proved
most foul. The story seemed familiar in parts, and she wasn't sure if that was because she
remembered it, dreamed about it, or someone had mentioned it earlier.
QueQoa interjected his perspective occasionally if he was near enough to comment, adding that
Laachtue, the doctor, was charming for an Abliato or Tiablo woman, the Bealorns were vulgar, and
why hadn’t they recognized how powerful Vawtrians actually were?
"That is strange," she said. "Why do you think they weren’t afraid?" She’d never met anyone like
this family before. Certainly no other Vawtrians until them. And while all Vawtrians couldn’t be like
them, it seemed as if most were on the more aggressive side. With their cadre units and the ability to
become anything they chose with practice, how could anyone not be at least somewhat intimidated?
And why would they march right into a Vawtrian camp and act as if they owned it.
"Laachtue says that she has never seen Vawtrians like us." QueQoa removed two coils of rope
from the sledge and gave Proteus a scratch between the eyes. "Not so flattering when the mere fact
that we could become more than one thing seemed to shock her. Or that we could become larger than
our states of rest."
QueQoa liked Laachtue.
She blinked, then shook her head, startled. It wasn’t necessarily romantic. But something had
happened to make QueQoa curious about this doctor. Or perhaps the doctor was curious about him?
Maybe both. She almost asked him but stopped. As surely as she knew that one of them was interested
in the other, she knew QueQoa would not want to talk about it.
And she knew AaQar was aware of it as well and amused. Worried too. But hopeful. He’d seen a
glance or two between them both. Something subtle.
She turned her wrists over and frowned at the long jagged lines. Maybe she had been premature in
assuming these marks and the impacts of Dry Deep and the long leech venom would lessen her
mindreading. As it was, it felt...more open. Like things were slipping in. Things she might not even
realize. She massaged both wrists in turn, her unease growing.
Naatos had said that many of the Neyeb went to Dry Deep for enlightenment and growth. Maybe it
did open up abilities. At what cost though? Had she already paid it through the suffering in Dry Deep?
Or maybe it was continuing now as she struggled to adapt to being back in this body. She chewed
on the inside of her lip as she continued to massage her wrists. Her whole body did feel wrong. As if
it no longer quite fit. Maybe between Dry Deep and the Ki Valo Nakar and the long leeches that was
what had happened. Her mind had been opened in a way that made her body no longer right.
She settled back onto the log and stared into the fire or toward the dark forest to the east. From
time to time, she stretched out, testing her stiff muscles and rubbing life into her wrists and ankles.
The memories of her time in Dry Deep had all muddled together even with AaQar's summation of
what had happened. Snatches of sound and images blurred together, some startlingly vivid for a breath
before they melted away. In some respects, even what had happened before Dry Deep was no longer
clear. It took several minutes of close focus to remember that they had been in this wilderness for
several weeks. That there were migraine-creating storms and dinosaurs and large serpents with frog-
like tongues that weren't supposed to be here.
But while physical details were difficult to recall with precision at the moment, what was clear
were the feelings. Those became even clearer as she contemplated them. And chief among them was
her relationship with Naatos and how it had changed over their time here.
She would not have survived the wilderness or the Unformed Ones without this family. Her
family. Without Naatos. Her veskare. And there was one thing that made her wince when she thought
back on it. A boundary she had crossed. One thing in particular that she needed to address and on
which to reassure him.
What she needed was time though. Time alone with him. And that wasn't going to happen unless—
she stopped, smiling as she caught the edges of an abrasive presence. Shrieking crespa, he had a loud
one. But she didn't mind it now even with that light scraping sting. He was close. She leaned forward,
resting her elbow on her knee.
The thick-leafed branches at the forest's edge bent. Then he strode into the camp, black spear with
runes in hand, expression somber. His coarse black hair hung wild about his shoulders, a few twigs
and leaves clinging in the strands. And it wasn't all bad news that he carried. Something had given
him a thread of hope that lightened the edges of his mind.
Good. They definitely needed good news.
 T H E B U N KE R

A melia rose to her feet to greet Naatos, then faltered. The strength in her legs took a moment to
return, and she had to steady herself on one of the boulders. Her head spun. Vaguely, she heard
AaQar and QueQoa greet Naatos and his low response followed. The branches and leaves
somewhere overhead cracked, and something landed nearby. WroOth was back too.
She drew in another deep breath and opened her eyes.
Naatos stood at the edge of the camp, speaking with his brothers. Their voices buzzed in her ears,
indistinct, yet—she felt the words. His most of all. They flashed into her mind with images. A jagged
mountainside of grey and white stone, some speckled like dalmatians, others ridged with bursts of
pale blue. Trees grew in twisted lines, bent and broken under the blistering winds and mighty
predators yet never giving up. Lichen and moss spread out like puddles of grey and green. Cracks and
crevices led to natural caves and sheer drops of thousands of feet. Such bitter loneliness. There was a
grimness behind his sight, a cold satisfaction that something he had known about the world had
proven to be true. More lurked on the edges of those images if she just pressed a little deeper.
She folded her arms and pressed her elmis against her torso. The images dimmed, flickered, then
faded. Her mindreading had changed. Significantly. Was that good or bad?
Her skin prickled; he was looking at her now. She pushed her concern down as she lifted her gaze
and smiled. Yes, he was definitely watching her with an expression she might have once mistaken for
contempt rather than concern.
"You're all right?" he asked.
She forced her smile crooked. No better way to convince him than to tease him. Steadying herself
once more on the boulder, she drew her shoulders up dramatically. "Why wouldn't I be?"
He leaned his spear against the chiron oak with its great spiked branches, then circled her, looking
her up and down. "It doesn't look like you'll be fighting any time soon."
Sighing, she kept her arms folded against her chest and her wrist elmis flat against her torso as he
walked along behind her. "Oh, just you wait. I'll be running in three days. And fighting, I'll fight you
now if you like." She winced as those waves of worry and concern rolled off him. Maybe that was
what the black lines through her elmis had done. She hadn't noticed until now just how much more
intense and massive he felt. She braced herself inwardly, then forced her smile bigger as he
completed the circle and stepped back in front of her. "Do you want to fight, Naatos?"
That smirk returned as he cupped his hand along her cheek and tilted her head back. "You know
you cannot best me."
"Oh. Can't I?" Though she met his gaze, the sharpness prickled throughout her, more than it had
ever been. His crystal-blue eyes were like blades cutting into her. She narrowed her own eyes, trying
to lessen the tension radiating out from him. "Won't you be surprised."
He pulled her closer, his one hand sliding into her hair and bringing her head to his shoulder as he
twined the other around her back. "Keep on surprising me, veskaro." He kissed her forehead, then her
temple, his fingers tangling in her hair as he crushed her close.
She curled against him, letting the waves of emotion wash over her. Tears brimmed against her
eyelids. What words she might use knotted in her throat. Yes. Flashes of images and sensations struck
her, pelting her mind. Scenes from Dry Deep. Of her twisted body. Of her vomiting. The cold panic
when she vanished from his arms. The way the Ki Valo Nakar had worn her like a skin suit. "I'm all
right," she whispered.
He nodded, but those columns of concern contradicted the confidence with which he spoke. "Yes,
you are."
She shivered. The barrier between their bodies felt like everything and nothing. She tucked her
head under his chin and clenched her eyes shut. It was hard to hold here on the edge of plunging into
his thoughts and feelings. They brimmed all around her. Harder still to realize just how much they had
all suffered with her. Yet her body felt as if it was drifting away from her somehow.
A soft surge of energy flowed into her, golden light pulsing behind her eyelids. Pulling away, she
peered up at him.
His expression twisted, his gaze hardening. The flood of disappointment, anger, and sorrow that
spiraled through him nearly knocked her back. If pouring his own life into her would have healed her,
he would have done it.
It was almost too much. She slipped her hand along his cheek, curling her fingers at the edge of
his defined jaw. "Most people have to heal the long way. I've done it myself many times."
His jaw worked. A vein stood out along his neck as his muscles tightened. "I should be able to
heal you."
"Venom and curses? They're just problems. Not a criticism against you." She tried to give her
words a teasing edge.
His scowl deepened. "I have mastered all but a few. They had their choice of venoms, and there
are only ten in all of creation that they could have used, including this new hybrid. Is it a coincidence
that one which I have not mastered was used? Do you know how many venoms and poisons exist in
creation?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. I know if you had any say in this, you would have healed me in
a breath."
"I trained long and hard to heal myself within the span of a single breath. And it was always as
much so that I could heal my veskaro."
Her breath sharpened as she glimpsed the thoughts spiraling through his mind. The Salvation of
the Third Nalenth. It haunted him now. They needed to stop this track. She didn't want to walk over it
again. And what if she started sending him thoughts as well? "AaQar has spent all morning making
fish. You should eat some of it while it's hot."
He garrumphed in response but at last released her. AaQar already had food prepared for him. He
offered some to Amelia as well, pushing it into her hands when she started to refuse. "I don't think I
can—" she started.
AaQar raised his eyebrows, his expression growing stern again. "If you plan to be running in three
days, how do you think you will accomplish it without the proper nutrients? Unless you do want to
fight now."
She laughed, startled at the loudness of her own voice as well as the mirth. But he had said it so
seriously and yet was teasing a little too. "Fine. I'm eating more fish." She gave a dramatic shrug and
then accepted the large slab of fish on a leaf. This one was almost iridescent but fragrant with herbs,
smelling a little more like perch and swordfish than salmon.
There was something comforting in the family being together. Not all was well within Ecekom,
but here and for now, it was better than it had been for a long while. She steadied the shields and
barriers she'd learned earlier to try to compensate for all of the thoughts and feelings now rippling out
around her. It didn't feel as if she was doing it right though it got a little better.
"Did you get far into the northern mountains?" QueQoa asked.
"Far enough," Naatos responded. He started on his second piece of fish. "The northern mountain
ranges haven't improved. The cabizas are more aggressive than usual, and the orcas have become
even more dominant in some sections."
QueQoa rubbed his shoulder, recalling the last time he had encountered one. The cabiza teeth
flashed into Amelia's mind, echoes of pain biting into her own shoulder.
She closed her eyes, pushing the boundaries up a little stronger. At least it wasn't all happening at
once. For now. She rubbed her temple as she listened to Naatos describe the hostile region.
"If we're going to do anything with the Tue-Rah, it's best to remain close," WroOth said. He was
uncharacteristically somber, not even a glint of laughter in his eyes. "If it can rectify this situation, the
sooner it is done the better. Not that it will undo everything."
"Laachtue says that the temple has been torn down and a monument erected over its center. She
knew nothing of the Tue-Rah itself. It may take time to remove the monument and reclaim the Tue-Rah
enough to bring it in sync with the others, though there is a chance that enough of it remains for us to
access." Naatos drained his canteen, then set it aside. "But we will need to investigate to learn for
certain."
"She also says we have two weeks or so before the coming of the Grey Season," AaQar said. He
gestured toward the sky. "Though now the signs suggest it's even farther out than it was. Of course, if
there is a tax that can be paid to stop it, that means they are controlling it. So…who can say when it
will actually come."
WroOth muttered something under his breath, his expression dark.
An image flashed into her mind of a dark cavern, sheets of rain pouring outside the entrance,
thunder booming, the air stinging and burning from some gas. Lightning flashed. It smelled like
camels. "Did they follow us in here?"
She rubbed her hand over her cheek and up her temple again, cutting the image off. The pulsing
ache in her head intensified for a breath.
"We have to make preparations regardless." AaQar gave her a frowning glance as if to ask if she
was all right. When she nodded and smiled, he continued. "And it would be wise to find a more
secure location."
"Especially if those Bealorns come back," QueQoa said.
"Let them come back." WroOth snapped a twig in half. "We'll deal with all of them the same.
Water the ground with their blood." His breath hissed through his teeth as he turned the thin wood
pieces over and continued to snap them.
She tilted her head as she studied him, trying to be careful not to open up her mindreading again.
Naatos placed his hand on her knee. "I actually have found a solution. There's an abandoned
bunker less than two miles from here. Looks as if the Abliato military removed the occupants long
ago."
"And what will keep them from removing us?" QueQoa asked.
 "We will not use any technology powerful enough for them to track us. Laachtue says that's how
they find most of the rebels, outlaws, and troublemakers." Naatos selected another slab of fresh
grilled fish and placed it on the thick waxy leaf. "The bunker had a nest of grim worms as well as a
couple goliath tunnelers and needs to be cleaned. I started the extermination process, but it'll be
another day before it's ready. We can go this afternoon to evaluate. Make some preparations. Then
take the next few days to finish our preparations. Then we go to Darmoste and sort out the matter with
the Tue-Rah."
As he spoke, he slid his hand higher up her thigh. His fingers curled deeper though he moved
toward the outside of her hip. "We should bring Proteus as well. In case someone needs to ride."
She pursed her lips, aware in the span of that movement what he was doing.
He was testing her muscles. Checking to see just how damaged she was. Picking up his hand, she
placed it on his knee. "I can walk."
He returned his hand to her leg. "Good."
"Naatos." She pushed his hand away again. "You may think you're being slick, but I know what
you're doing."
"Yes. I'm feeling my wife's leg." He gave her a crooked smile. Not even an ounce of shame lurked
behind those eyes. "Her very lovely leg."
"Hmmm. Well, you only need to be feeling my leg for the right reasons. And if you wanted to
know how strong I am, you could just ask."
"Do you really know, veskaro? Or would you simply push yourself to the point your muscles snap
and your strength vanishes?"
"There are a few stages before collapse," she said dryly.
"And you treat none of them like the warnings they are."
"Oh?" She nudged him with her shoulder and then turned her back to him, pretending that the fish
suddenly absorbed all her attention.
"How far is the bunker from Darmoste?" WroOth asked. "Is it near any trade routes? Or do you
have any means to determine what we are actually close to?"
"It is in an area that is heavily overgrown and close to the Kailstro Peaks. There's a river
underground that it connects to but which cannot be easily breached. The Tiablos always hated those
mountains. That likely hasn't changed unless they've found a way to nullify the fields." Naatos turned
the large chunk of fish over and broke a flaky piece off. "No one is to go to Darmoste alone. Is that
clear?"
Everyone nodded their assent. Somehow though that also seemed to end the conversation. A pall
still hung over them all. Even though it had seemed as if it might pass, moments like this made it all
the more apparent. Dry Deep had changed all of them. She swallowed hard, but a knot remained in
her throat.
It did not take long to finish their midday meal and then make preparations to depart. "If the terrain
isn't too difficult for Proteus, I'll ride," she said. "At least if we aren't taking the sledge."
Naatos lifted his chin. Shock rippled out among the others though they did not say anything. "We
aren't taking the sledge; he'll be fine."
"All right then." She crossed over to the bavril and stroked his head. "I hope you don't mind
carrying me a ways?"
The bavril thrust his head against her palm and then nuzzled her. He still smelled vaguely of
blood, the tips of the hollow grey hairs on his snout holding remnants of his last meal. She smiled a
little, still amused at his great shaggy tail and expressive brown eyes.
 Despite the cuteness, he certainly belonged in Ecekom though. There were many creatures here
that reminded her of others on Earth, but they were exceptionally different. Danger lurked around
every tree and bush, and they would have to remain clever if they wanted to survive. Wise as well.
That meant she needed to use wisdom and discernment too. It was hard to accept that her illness
and struggles had had such an impact on everyone else, but there was no way around it. She did need
time to recover. But she needed to be wise and avoid adding strain to her family. She checked once
more on Tacky who remained nestled under the blanket in the hammock, safe and protected from other
predators by both his size and the rels.
Then she picked up her half empty satchel, slung it over her shoulder, and climbed gingerly onto
Proteus's back. His soft silky fur tickled her thighs and ankles. Riding a bavril wasn't as comfortable
as riding a horse or a bear, but it was far easier than walking a couple miles with everyone like this.
Naatos walked alongside her, checking the harness on Proteus and then putting his hand on her
knee. "Thank you," he said quietly.
She nodded, her brow creasing. Shrieking crespa, her time in Dry Deep had nearly broken all of
them. He had just thanked her for riding a bavril instead of walking?
As if she needed more proof, she realized that AaQar had broken open another one of their
precious rels to ensure that they got to the bunker without being attacked. It didn't feel right even if he
was making more rels.
Especially not with everyone walking so quietly. WroOth had barely spoken to her at all since she
woke. And even QueQoa, though he tried to be warm, struggled to find words. If she let the
boundaries within her own mind slip at all, their feelings bled into her and weighed her down. It
wasn't just about her, of course. Though she had not pressed deeper into their thoughts and feelings,
she suspected they all were thinking of the fates of their friends and cadre mates who had likely been
dead for millennia despite the fact that for all of them they had only seen them weeks before. The
unpleasant fate of the current Vawtrians and the horrors of this world certainly had not done anything
to help. And she suspected that the long painful exhausting days through Dry Deep had brought a great
deal to a head.
Recovering from Dry Deep was going to take far more than she had anticipated. If their enemies
had tried to steer them there with the intention of breaking them, they had chosen well. Worst of all,
she wasn't sure what could mend them other than rest and time. Neyeb were supposed to be healers of
mental and emotional wounds, but could one help with something like this? She certainly couldn't.
Not with her limited knowledge. But had there once been a time when there were Neyeb far more
skilled than she who could stitch up these wounds and cleanse minds from the sorrows and tragedies
of life?
It was terrifying and beautiful to consider as well as sorrowful.
As they emerged from the forest out into a low grassland, the warm sunlight poured over them. It
wasn't quite enough to chase away the chill, but it did catch on the grass and make it sparkle as if
some of the blades had been underlined with silver.
Winged serpents soared about on the warm breezes, their scales bright turquoise or brilliant red.
Many had black caps or yellow streaks that further emphasized their energy. A few shot down toward
them but twisted away as soon as they were a few feet above.
To the west near a thick briar forest played a small clutch of seven-clawed raptors. It was only
their movement that gave them away. Their pale-green and amber streaked scales blended almost
perfectly with the grass. They snapped and leaped at one another, scurrying over the white boulders
and leaping on one another with high-pitched squeals. The hatchlings didn't even seem to see them as
they passed by. Given how carefree they were, Amelia suspected a parent or guardian of some sort
lurked nearby.
After less than half an hour, the edges of the Forest Between and all but the steep cliffs lining Dry
Deep had vanished. The hot air made her hair curl a little more against her shoulders, promising
future snarls and tangles.
An enormous quetzie flew overhead, its great crest glowing red in the sunlight. With a throaty cry,
it soared higher on the air currents and then disappeared into the ever-increasing mass of grey-white
clouds. Reptile song and chirring chatters filled the air.
Amelia let her eyes slide shut, her fingers gripping Proteus's fur. It was good to be alive. Good to
be here in the sun again. As hard as this recovery was going to be, it would be worth it, and it was
good to live. She murmured a quiet prayer of thanks as they reached the edge of the grassland and
pressed into a new forest that turned to thick-trunked oaks, heavy evergreens, and gnarly black briars
with red dots at the base of their stems.
More challenging to pass through even in the lighter paths, especially since the oaks had
unnaturally low and numerous branches that were staggered out more like the evergreens. She
frequently had to duck or lean, sometimes pressing flat against Proteus's back. Often she helped
untangle his thick fur from snagging on the thorns.
"Certainly not the easiest place to reach," WroOth announced from the side. "Not that that will
help us with attacks from above, but for most ground attacks, this isn't a bad start."
Amelia agreed. The underbrush around them did not give easily. It bent and sprang back into place
almost at once. Even Proteus’s heavy clawed feet left little impression. He lowed from time to time
and shook his narrow head, looking more miserable than powerful.
She tried to soothe him. Leaning flat against him once more, she whispered in his small ears that it
would be all right and scratched him at the base of his jaw. Poor darling.
It only helped a little though. Sometimes when he turned his gaze back toward her, it seemed as if
he was asking a question. One that struck her deeper now, as if she were on the verge of
understanding it.
Was it possible she was now more aware of some animals too? She had always had a good feel
for Proteus, but now it was almost as if he was being doubly demonstrative. Not that he was as clear
as Naatos or his brothers. Their opinions and feelings were like separate waters flooding out. Right
now, the barriers within her mind were strong enough to hold them back beyond general impressions.
If she focused on them or plucked at them, they'd likely collapse.
Proteus was more pulses of awareness. A general dissatisfaction and displeasure with this place.
She gave his favorite spot at the corner of his jaw another good rub. That soothed him.
Naatos continued to lead the way, guiding them through places where the underbrush was not quite
so thick and the brambles didn't come so close. Nothing stirred in this forest except in the branches
above. Far, far above. It smelled like green briars, old raspberries, musty leaves, and millipedes.
Occasionally an oilier, heavier scent like rotting centipedes wafted through. Then it grew more
frequent, becoming a stronger and clearer scent.
She grimaced, ducking down once more to avoid additional branches pulling at her hair. "Are
those grim worms?"
"The remains of dead grim worms and a couple dead goliath tunnelers," Naatos said from the
front. He cast a small smile over his shoulder. "Very dead ones."
"In that case, it smells like we're close," QueQoa said.
"Just through here." Naatos indicated a gap in two evergreens and then stepped through.
 They emerged in a clearing that was a little larger than the two-bedroom farmhouse Amelia had
moved into on Earth. Between the briars, oaks, and evergreens most access points to this clearing
were all but cut off. Massive boulders provided further security to the east and south sides. Enormous
red-brown roots and grey-white rocks protruded from the ground at uneven angles. But in almost the
very back of the clearing near a boulder big enough to serve as a whole house wall lay a large rusted
door and a great gaping hole.
Naatos immediately strode to the opening.
Amelia slid off Proteus and rubbed around his ear and then to his jaw. So this was the bunker.
It looked much older than she had expected. The door itself had been ripped off its hinges despite
being several inches thick and seeming to be made of solid metal. It had been twisted at the base as if
something had seized it and wrenched it free. Rust covered it on both sides. On what was most likely
the inside, there were slots for electronics. A few blue, red, and green wires hung out, mostly
deteriorated from the elements.
"What did this exactly?" she asked.
"Abliato warriors of some kind or another. Probably one of their machines. Laachtue said these
are safe so long as we can protect against the beasts and use no technology beyond fifty tra pulses per
second." Naatos regarded the bunker with somber contemplation.
"What about the tablet?" She hadn't brought it with her, but if technology or energy usage would
summon the Abliatos she had to get that switched off. Had she brought them all into danger? An icy
sickness coiled in her stomach.
"It's marginal. Maybe half a pulse per second," AaQar said. "Fifty tra pulses would allow us to
have basic conveniences within the bunker. But if the Abliato tech scans for that, we'll follow the old
ways."
"Aside from the ground burrowers, this will be easier than what we had," QueQoa said. "We can
make barriers to add protection."
WroOth stepped over the entrance and peered inside. "Little closer quarters than I'd prefer," he
said. His voice echoed off the metal walls. "Who lived here before? Children? Rabbits? It smells like
rabbits and centipedes." Pulling back, he wrinkled his nose. "And that grim worm smell is strong
enough for a scent bomb. We'll have to do something about that smell. It's like a beacon for any others
in the area."
"It needs another few days or so to finish airing out," Naatos said. "I removed the worm corpses
already, and it's improved significantly just in the last two hours. But we can start preparing the
spikes and put those in the ground."
"Will this hold up against the Grey Season?" Amelia asked. She tilted her head back to glimpse
the sky through the thick dark branches. The great billowing clouds obscured most of the blue, but
they didn't look particularly ominous. Not at all like they had when the aura storms came.
Naatos set his arms akimbo, boot on the edge of the bunker's opening as he stared down the
ladder. "For a time, it might. Assuming we can secure the entrance. We'll run out of supplies before
the structure gives way at this rate, but neither are likely to last as long as this Grey Season will go.
Not unless it holds off for months." He gave the ladder a hard stomp, sending a loud ringing peal
down inside. It echoed back. He nodded, seemingly satisfied. "The one good thing about the Grey
Season is no one's tech will work if it's over a certain level, and any of the more powerful
mechanisms will be shut down. It will take time for the storms to build." He shook his head, his eyes
narrowing. "They would not have gathered all this power without finding some way to preserve
themselves in light of such a catastrophe."
 Amelia drew closer, wrinkling her nose. It would be nice to have a place to sleep that included a
roof and floor and walls, but that scent was going to have to be dealt with or else nobody would be
sleeping well. It smelled worse than ground up centipedes and millipedes. "Is there anything like
lemons that grows here? Or coffee? Coffee grounds can help absorb scent. Unless one of you wants to
make vinegar. Even pine needles could help."
"Coffee." QueQoa laughed. "I forgot Awdawms drink that."
"Vawtrians don't, I take it?"
"It's a little trickier for us. While most alcohols don't affect us, coffee can," AaQar said. "But
when they reach certain levels, combinations of tannins and caffeine can become…inhibition
lowering."
"Well, coffee grounds can help absorb foul odors. Alcohol could help too if you had some." She
shuddered a little. Alcohol wasn't something she preferred. It took her to unpleasant contemplative
places.
"To avoid potential incursions from grim worms and the like, we'll need to prepare spikes and
place them in the earth around the bunker," Naatos said. "Wood will do for now."
"It would also be preferable to disguise the entrance. Move some of the boulders around through
here. And there will need to be an alternate entrance as well." AaQar circled the entrance and kicked
the back of the jagged hinge with his boot. "This won't be too difficult to disguise. Is there a back
entrance already?"
"One that went into the earth and connected to a tunnel. It'll need securing and shoring up." Naatos
strode to the edge of the forest and moved beyond one of the shaggy-barked pines. He then gestured
toward the ground. "The tunnel starts roughly here. Ideally, it should be sealed and another lower one
prepared."
"There were plenty of flat rocks near the foothills," QueQoa offered. "We could use those.
Perhaps even make additional store rooms."
"If we even have time for additional store rooms," WroOth said.
They never went short on the plans. Amelia listened, catching her breath and calming her heart
rate. The sweat dried on her arms and the back of her neck. Her skin still prickled.
Proteus flopped onto the ground near her, lowing with annoyance.
Reaching over, she scratched his jaw. Poor darling didn't like this forest at all. Not that she could
blame him. Was the bunker a good place for him? He'd done all right in the cave. Would a bunker be
as comfortable? He blinked his big brown eyes at her. Somehow she doubted he'd like it.
He curled his thick black claws into the dirt and lowed again before dropping his head onto his
forelegs.
"Something's wrong, sweetheart?" She moved to the ground beside him and combed her fingers
through his hair. A few strands had been pulled free, but was that enough to cause this discontent? No.
It wasn't pleasant, but something else bothered him far more. What was it though?
Everyone else agreed that the bunker was a good choice. They could turn this into a solid base of
operations and have other emergency locations and supplies set up within only a few days. Then it
was time to get to work.
AaQar climbed over the entrance and then dropped inside, sliding from sight. QueQoa announced
he was going to bring down the trees they would need. WroOth went with him, his manner still
unnaturally dour. He didn't have anything to add apparently.
"Is whatever is making that smell in there going to hurt me if I go inside?" she asked, stepping
closer.
 "No," AaQar said from below, his voice echoing up. "It looks rather dry down there as well. Just
foul scented. You'll get a bad headache and likely need to vomit if you stay down there long enough,
but that takes a couple hours to build."
She could deal with foul scented. After pushing herself up from the ground, she dusted herself off
and made her way toward the bunker opening. The areas around the hinges and the log were twisted
and jagged even with rust. Anyone moving too fast could get a nasty cut. Or worse. Far worse
actually.
Naatos eyed her. "You're strong enough to climb down?"
"One way to find out." She set her arms on her waist and met his gaze.
He gave a shrug and then stepped to the side.
With her best attempt at a flounce, she turned and stepped onto the ladder. Unlike the door, it
wasn't rusted. There wasn't mold in here either so perhaps the door had been partially over this and
Naatos had moved it. He had cleared out the worm corpses.
Up above something stirred. Then something dropped down behind her. She spun around, startled,
her grip on the smooth metal tightening.
Naatos stood at the bottom of the ladder now. He held his hand out to her, his expression more
smug and self-assured than it had been in what felt like a long time.
She scowled at him and resumed her slow descent. Already her palms sweat, and her left arm
trembled a little. "Did you just jump down behind me?"
"No." His smirk broadened to a full smile. He then placed his hand on her ankle as she came
within reach. "I was always here."
Her skin prickled pleasantly at his touch, his strong hand warm against her skin. She continued to
climb down a little slower. "Liar."
He slid his hand higher up her calf, his thumb stroking along one of the longer scars. "You're
shaking."
"I was just surprised to see you get down so quickly." She moved down two more rungs, then
drew in another deep breath. Her heart wasn't just racing because he'd slid his hand to the back of her
thigh and under her dress.
"Now who's lying?" He tugged on her waistband.
Pressing her forehead to one of the metal rungs, she drew in a long breath. If only he wasn't so
observant.
Another tug on her waistband followed, more insistent this time.
Taking care, she turned and leaned down. Her hand had scarcely brushed Naatos's shoulder
before he lifted her off the ladder. Instead of setting her down though, he held her close. "Naatos?"
He pressed her head to his shoulder, tucking his chin along her neck as his one hand clasped the
back of her head.
She wrapped her arms around him and nuzzled closer. It was a little awkward with her feet
dangling. Why was he doing this?
"Sometimes I just need to hold you. I just need to know you are alive. I need you to know I love
you."
She heard his thought as clearly as if he had spoken it. Hugging him tighter, she buried her face in
his neck. "I hope you know I love you too."
It didn't matter that this place reeked or that what lay ahead or that they were all broken, shattered,
and barely holding together. Her body still didn't feel right, and it certainly wasn't large enough to
hold all of these feelings. Not even the good ones. But if she would burst because of any feeling, this
was an especially good one.
 S CAV E N G E D

I t was hard to let her go. And he needed to. But sometimes it struck Naatos like a blade
through the back of his skull how close she had come to dying. Or worse. Even now, with the
stench of the grim worms in his nostrils, he felt as if he was practically holding a corpse.
That young prophet, the Machat youth, had warned him that he would curse the day he destroyed
the Salvation of the Third Nalenth. And he did.
Naatos closed his eyes.
The youth had said that he would wish he had just one of them for Amelia. His stomach tightened.
He couldn't quite see the young Machat's face, but the words echoed in his mind as if the youth spoke
them right there. He and his brothers would mourn the day they destroyed the Salvation of the Third
Nalenth. And she would die if they followed what was said.
He would have given almost anything for those healing orbs to get her out of Dry Deep or now.
But she had survived that. She had survived everything that Ecekom had thrown at her. That young
prophet hadn't mentioned those events. That meant there was worse to come. Unless they stopped it.
She wriggled a little, pressing her hands to his shoulders. "Naatos?" she asked again. Her feet
brushed his shins. "Do you need to talk or something?"
Her words brought a smile to his face. Sighing, he kissed her neck. "No."
"Will you put me down?"
"No." He held her a little closer, savoring the warmth of her frail form, relishing the sensation of
each breath.
"This is going to make cleaning out the bunker awkward." She leaned back and raised her
eyebrow at him. The faux energy in her voice did not even start to fool him.
"You shouldn't be cleaning." There was life in her eyes though. Beautiful determined stubborn life.
She'd live if only to spite death for thinking it could drag her beyond the veil. How many times had
she infuriated him? Thank whatever goodness remained she had not lost that fight.
He set her down, then stepped back, his hand lingering at the small of her back. She barely
weighed anything now; that galled him as much as anything. His wife, his veskaro, his most beloved
of all had practically shriveled to little more than skin and bone under his watch.
She caught hold of his hand, holding it surprisingly tight. "I am all right," she said firmly, peering
up at him with an almost perturbed firmness. "I promise…you big scorpion. Now are you going to
show me around this bunker, or do I need to figure out the floor plan on my own?"
Some of this was a show she was putting on for his benefit, some for hers. He didn't mind the
pretense all that much so long as she rested when the time came. He cupped his hand beneath her
elbow. "This way, veskaro."
 This square room that allowed access to the ladder and primary entrance was large enough for
several people fully armed to lie in wait. The door to the rest of the bunker was as thick as the
primary external door had been from what he could see. Most of it had slid into the wall and was now
completely locked in place.
"What are those?" Amelia crouched beside three large metal cannisters with deformed caps. A
heavy thud reverberated through the bunker. She turned toward the ladder, scowling.
"WroOth and QueQoa preparing the trees," he said. The wind that puffed down into the bunker
carried a heavy scent of earth and evergreen.
"Are they just…ripping them up?"
"Yes. We use the whole tree though." He then motioned toward the cannisters. "It seems that the
Abliatos used toxic gases to force the inhabitants out." He then pointed toward the doorway. "They
opened all the doors. Without power, the doors will remain as they are unless we find an alternative."
"How many do you think lived here?" She brushed her fingers against the metal wall, peering into
the next room.
The doorway led into a large living area. Large shelves had been built directly into the walls, and
hooks hung from the ceiling, bare and dull. Two metal benches and a metal table had been bolted to
the floor. Scuff marks beneath the leaves, scales, and other debris on the floor suggested there had
been other items of furniture.
"Hard to say," Naatos responded. "The place was cleaned out of almost everything of value.
Scavengers took most of what wasn't bolted down. Probably would have come back if not for the
grim worms. That's likely the only reason those chests are still in the bedroom, but there isn't anything
inside."
More heavy thuds followed. Sometimes the whole ground shook. Maybe he needed to check on
them. Were they searching the trees for nests and threats? It was a lot louder than usual.
Now that the grim worms had been cleared out, there really wasn't much to show. AaQar was
examining one of the three storage rooms. Like the others, all that remained within were the shelves
that had been built inside except for one in which there were a fair number of old baskets with a few
nuts and rotted onions. Aside from the main living quarters, there were six other rooms, all decent in
size. Six large chests had been opened and cleared out, now holding nothing more than debris and
dried leaves. Another small room led to a second twisted external door that opened up into a
collapsed tunnel. Most likely one of the ways that the grim worms had gotten in.
Amelia kept her hand over her mouth the farther they went into the bunker. The stench was almost
unbearable back here. But that would fade soon. Securing the entrances and exits would be essential.
After that though, this was a decently safe place. At least for Ecekom. "It's going to take awhile to
clean it out."
"Not as long as you might think. Someone had put the door back over the entrance so it was mostly
protected from the elements. As the air is moving, the stench is leaving."
She scuffed her foot along the floor, then turned her head, wincing. It seemed like she was trying
to hide it. She'd been flinching a lot lately.
A heavy thud sounded from the entrance. QueQoa appeared through the doorway, barely ducking
his head in time to avoid scraping it. "We've pulled a dozen trees and agitated a couple of strange
mantises."
He raised an eyebrow. WroOth had likely done the agitating. If ever there was a time when they
should avoid kicking nests of large angry insects, it was now. "Are they dealt with?"
"Essentially." QueQoa set his hands on his broad brown leather belt. "WroOth doesn't want help.
He said to tell you it's happening. It's strange though. They have belts and collars. He wants you to see
the one that's still alive."
Sighing, he rubbed his forehead. "Stay here with Amelia. Don't leave until it's safe."
She gave him a half amused, half annoyed glance. "I'm still capable of climbing."
"Maybe AaQar should go as well. Where is he?" QueQoa peered around him.
"He's in the back. Go tell him if you like." All he could hope was that WroOth didn't get in any
deeper than he could handle. What could be so strange about these mantises? Strange was such a
vague word.
He emerged from the mouth of the bunker and out into the clearing. Six large trees lay at the
eastern edge, upended from the roots and laid one on top of the other. Another six lay at the other end
of the clearing.
Sharp chirrs and annoyed clicks sounded on the other side of the fallen trees, drawing closer.
Then his brother came into view. His doublet was gone, his undertunic shredded at the shoulder. And
several red streaks indicated he had missed more than one blow as the large green-brown mantis
sprung after him, armored forelegs darting in and out.
Laughing harshly, WroOth swatted it back, striking the broadside of one of those forelegs.
Sighing, Naatos set his arms akimbo. "WroOth, why are you fist fighting that mantis?" Crespa, this
was an unpleasant bit of chaos.
"He started it," WroOth said, swatting at it. He dodged another strike and then clipped it in the
side of the head.
"If you took his tree, you started it."
"I did not take his tree. I checked first. Why do you assume I didn't check the tree? I always check
the trees! Hey, you! That's enough. Hit me again, and I'll rip your head off. Three of them found me.
Watch this."
Naatos scowled. WroOth was right. That mantis wasn't attacking like a typical mantis. It wasn't
going for kill blows or even paralyzing blows. It was herding WroOth as best it could. Herding him to
the northwest. Toward Darmoste. And it was indeed wearing a brown belt. It had a similar band on
its neck. Its bright yellow eyes worked as its mandibles whirred.
"And something is on the forelegs. It's harder to shift and heal." He dodged another blow. When
he sidestepped it though, it went out of its way to scramble back in front and start pushing him back
toward the forest.
"Can you shift at all?" Naatos asked.
"It's how I dealt with the first two, but QueQoa and I obliterated them unfortunately. It'd be better
to kill this one in a more careful fashion if we're going to figure out what it's doing. But you see what
it's doing?"
Naatos nodded. "It's herding you. Doesn't even seem to notice the bavril though."
The bavril huffed, its long snout resting on the ground and its head on its paws. It didn't seem
concerned about the mantis either.
WroOth lunged in and clocked the mantis in the side of its triangular head. "And it has no smell.
Not until it's dead and its insides are spilled out. Assuming it's like the others."
It swatted at him again with its forelegs.
AaQar climbed up out of the bunker. "Well…this is disconcerting." He crossed over to Naatos.
"WroOth, do you need help? Or is there another reason you're boxing that thing?"
"Someone just needs to kill it as cleanly as possible so we can examine it," WroOth responded.
"And it just wants to keep fighting."
 Naatos dropped to the ground, becoming the red-eyed veldrok wolf. A bitter acidic taste filled the
back of his mouth. His long black claws scraped the earth. Slipping to the edge of the forest, he
charged forward.
His skin prickled and stung as if dozens of bees had attacked. The closer he got, the more it
hummed and burned. What could possibly cause that? He leaped into the air, claws outstretched and
silent.
The mantis spun around, lifting its forelegs. As it did, WroOth pounced. He snapped its head off
its thin neck and flung it. For a few seconds more, its jaws worked and its eyes spun about. Then it
stilled.
Naatos returned to his state of rest, the added stinging sensation continuing to prickle through his
body. It wasn't enough to keep him from shifting, but it made it more challenging to maintain focus.
For a younger or less powerful shifter, it could be devastating.
AaQar crouched beside the mantis. He used a stick to turn the band around its neck about, then
halted. "This looks like we may have a larger problem on our hands than we originally thought."
Naatos raised an eyebrow as he read the tag. "Camp 811. Tracker 372."
 T H E S T R AN G E MAN T I S E S

Q ueQoa went to tell AaQar what had happened and returned with him a few seconds later.
AaQar left for the surface to see what was going on. Amelia followed to the base of the ladder
and peered up. "What's going on out there?"
"Strange mantises. Nothing serious. WroOth is fine. They sought us out. It was as if they were
trying to herd us."
"And they had belts?"
QueQoa nodded as he moved back toward the doorway. "Large bands on their thoraxes and
collars at the neck."
"That is odd." From here at the base of the ladder, all she could see was a bit of the sky through
the branches.
"Everything is these days. You aren't going to insist on going up there right now, are you?"
She managed a small laugh as she walked back to the main gathering space. "Not yet. I'm sure that
Naatos and AaQar can handle it. I need to make a broom if I'm going to sweep all this out. So maybe
I'll need to pop up for that."
"I can help with that." Reaching down, he selected one of the twisted pine branches that had fallen
onto the floor. He turned it in his hand and then channeled energy into it. The branch straightened as
pale fibers formed along its base, stretching out to become a decent broom.
Amazing. She shook her head in awe as he passed it to her. The handle was a little warped, and
the fibers leaned more to the right. But it was more than sturdy enough. Better than anything she could
make with the tools available. "That's incredible. I still can't get over how you can do that. Thank
you."
"It's easy enough after enough practice." He picked up another stick and made himself one with
just as much ease. His handle was a little bluer and coarser than hers. "Is WroOth all right out there?"
"He's in a mood," QueQoa said. "He'll be fine. You know how he gets."
"So you liked Laachtue?" She turned the broom around in her hands, weighing its heft before
setting it to the floor.
"Well enough." He tilted his head as he studied her, the movement even more exaggerated because
of his size. "Why are you blushing when you ask me that? You haven’t met her. At least not when you
were conscious."
"It’s just warm in here."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Your eyes flashed red. That doesn’t mean you’re about to kill. I do
remember that."
"No." She shook her head. "I’m just—it’s nice to think that someone could find happiness out here
after everything that has happened. And I like you. I’d like it if you were happy."
"I am..." He paused. "I have been happy. It’s hard to be happy when things are as they are now. It
does not take a veskaro to be happy, little sister."
"No. But..." She started sweeping. The act felt comfortable. Familiar. She’d done this so many
times in Indiana. In Uncle Joe’s home. In her own. At the vet’s office. "You know my friends always
did matchmaking when they were sad."
"They were Awdawms." He nodded as if this explained everything. "Well, relationships have
many reasons for Awdawms. Sometimes amusement is one of them. That is not how it is for
Vawtrians."
"No, I know you can’t take it lightly. Though, goodness above, you do take it fast sometimes. At
least some of you. I don’t know about you personally. I just know that I would like for you to be happy
or at least as happy as possible."
He began to sweep in the other corner of the room. "I am as happy as I can be given the
circumstances, little sister." He made long sure strokes, pulling the debris into the center of the room.
"But these are not happy times. They might not be for a long time." He released a long sigh, then
shook his head. His thick brown-blonde hair curled over his shoulders. "But my family is well. For
now, that is enough. More than enough."
His people weren’t though. That weighed on him. Perhaps even the fact that Laachtue was an
Abliato. Still she looked forward to meeting the woman. Through their memories, she had a clear
picture of her. Taller than average, strong shoulders, full hips, wild hazel-blonde hair with tiny
ringlets that formed a cloud around her head. Or a halo as QueQoa thought of it. Striking tattoos along
her cheeks and temples. She swept a little faster, her hands tightening around the smooth broom
handle. Little puffs of dust rose up as she continued to sweep.
Her nose tickled. It still smelled like a centipede graveyard in here. But it felt good to make
progress.
She glanced back at QueQoa. He wasn’t lying. He was essentially content to remain as he was.
Even with all the frustration, sorrow, pain, and fear of these past days, he was perhaps the most calm.
And something was starting to grow. Whether it was because he was compatible with Laachtue or
simply because he wanted a relationship. It would likely be awhile before he was willing to take the
chance unless biology asserted itself. After what had happened with WroOth and AaQar...
"Everything worth keeping in there is made of metal," WroOth announced from the entrance.
"Come out, and I’ll set the bunker on fire."
"WroOth." Amelia walked to the base of the ladder and peered up at him. "Is everything all right
up there? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. No single mantis will mar or end me. We got the body so we can study it. Now come up
here. I want to set something on fire."
"While I'm glad you are all right, you can’t just set the bunker on fire."
QueQoa came to stand beside her. He folded his arms, his expression concerned and his brow
lined. He didn't seem so convinced.
WroOth gave a dramatic shrug from the entrance. "It’ll deal with the smell as well as the debris.
And if it’s hot enough and the right type, there will hardly be any dust or ash left and it won't create
much smoke at all." He propped his chin up with his hand. "Or do you enjoy sweeping and sneezing?"
"He's right," QueQoa said. "It might be for the best if we just set it all on fire."
She folded her arms as she regarded them both. "But if you were just going to set the inside on
fire, why didn’t you say so from the start?"
 WroOth shrugged, his palm still against his chin. "As far as I’m concerned, setting things on fire is
always a possibility. If there’s anything you want to save, pull it out. Or show me. I want this place
flaming in a quarter of an hour."
"Will you at least come down and make sure that whatever fire you're going to use isn't going to
melt anything down here?"
"As far as I’m concerned, dear heart, if they’re that important, you can certainly move them, can’t
you? Or are you saying you aren’t strong enough?" He lifted his brows at her mischievously.
"I’m saying if you don’t come in and check and you melt things like these benches, you’re going to
be sitting your butt on the cold metal floor."
He offered yet another dramatic shrug. "You think that bothers me?"
QueQoa removed the bolts from the nearest bench and picked it up. "Probably best to take them
out just in case. They aren't made of the same metal as the rest of the bunker, and I'm not fully certain
what they are" He passed it up through the opening, nearly striking WroOth in the face. "You'll be
bothered if you don’t move."
"Clumsy iron dragon." WroOth batted it away, then caught the edge and hefted it out. "Don’t put
that in my face again."
"All right. Not that exact one. But what about this one?" QueQoa picked up the second.
"You are mocking these rules."
"You're just making them up as you go."
Amelia shook her head as she strode back into the smaller chambers of the bunker. It would be
close quarters for all of them compared to the openness of their camp, but it would be safer and
cozier. One of the rooms had obviously been intended to store supplies. Numerous baskets lined
metal shelves though most were empty of all but dust, leaves, shells, and rubbish. She stacked the
baskets one on top of the other. They would burn like kindling, but keeping these would benefit them.
Four at a time, she carried them out into the main room.
WroOth had actually entered the bunker and helped QueQoa remove the last of the benches and
the table. Now that he was down here, she realized he was missing his doublet and most of his tunic
had been shredded and stained with blood.
"What happened to you?"
"Bastard of a mantis decided to ambush me and just start beating me."
"It took your doublet?"
"No," he grumbled. "It caught on fire, so I took it off—"
"Wait, why did your doublet catch on fire? And why are you missing a boot?" She dropped the
baskets. "Your hair is covered in blood. Your blood!"
"Everything is fine. It happens."
"Mantises usually aren't that smart," QueQoa said. "And there was no good reason for it to be
trying to herd us out of this forest."
"There was no reason for it at all." WroOth snapped his fingers and pointed at the baskets. "You
want these out before the fire? Get them to the ladder. This whole place is on fire in less than seven
minutes. What else is going up?"
"There are some chests that would be good to keep for storage." She picked up the baskets again.
"Back in what I think were the bedrooms."
"Fine. They can come." He heaved a dramatic sigh as he deposited the bolts into his pocket.
"Thank you for your tolerance." She gathered up the remaining baskets, concerned at how dark
WroOth's mood had become even if he tried to hide it. They needed to talk at some point but not now.
Not when he was about ready to break that metal bench in half. He hadn't tended to any of the cuts in
his clothing or even wiped away the blood. It didn't seem wise to ask him where his boot was again.
QueQoa was troubled as well, but he tried to show better cheer by pointing out how interesting it
was that some of the grim worm scales were more grey than brown and that when they burned, they
would smell more like wood chips than centipedes. When she tried to direct the conversation back to
Laachtue, however, he said even less, though there was a warmness that emanated from him. "It's
nothing to dwell on," he said. "Especially not now."
Amelia tried to carry the baskets up the ladder, but even though they were light, she struggled.
Both QueQoa and WroOth chastised her and sent her out of the bunker. "It's almost time to set
everything in this place on fire, and I'd much rather do that when you aren't down here," WroOth said,
swatting her hair. "So climb up and stay out until it's all cleared."
She made her way up slowly, grateful for the fresh air. The stench of the grim worms clung to her
even once she emerged onto the short-growing grass. Proteus pulled back with an annoyed grunt, his
long trunk wrinkling.
She wiped her hands on her skirt, shaking her head. "I know it's bad."
Proteus continued to complain as he moved even farther back.
Hopefully the fresh air would cleanse the scent or it would be a long way back.
The enormous trees that had been uprooted for the spikes lay in two piles. The rich earthy scent
masked the grim worm smell as she walked toward the nearest of the piles. Naatos and AaQar
crouched over something by the closest of the dark-ridged trunks. Strips of black and pale-blue cloth
lay over the mantis, some tied around the bands. Both Naatos and AaQar were missing sleeves.
Someone had set the mantis's head on a stone nearby. It stared at her with chilling unblinking eyes.
Its antennae were still curled above its head. She grimaced, folding her arms tight over her chest.
Mantises weren't the most pleasant of creatures to look at in the best of times. But there was
something especially unsettling about this one. Like it was watching her with cruel intent.
"There." Naatos cut the band at its thorax. "This part has an electronic device."
"Let's see." AaQar took it away carefully. His frown mirrored Naatos's. "It's recording but not
transmitting. Timed signal from the looks of it. Someone is going to come looking for these mantises
when this tracer goes off and it doesn't check in."
"We can move the bodies. Or at least enough of them. And we can destroy all but the tracker. Or
we could just let the bodies go someplace that whoever set it wouldn't follow."
Amelia stopped beside Naatos's shoulder. The tension in the air made her entire body ache.
"What's going on? QueQoa said these mantises just attacked and had no smell."
Naatos remained crouched but looked her up and down, his brow raised as if he expected her to
collapse in half a breath. "You look tired."
"That's just my face these days." She forced a smile. "Are you going to answer me or do I need to
read your mind?"
He held up one of the bands. "It's a suppression field. Blocks most scents until the suppression
field collapses when the creature dies or the power source runs out. In this case, it's both as the tra as
the power source is connected to the creature. It uses only the smallest amount of tra, which means
that even if we had the ability to track the use of this technology, it would likely pass unnoticed."
"It's very clever." AaQar prodded one of the bands with a thin-bladed dagger. "Tiablo or perhaps
Abliato technology that mimics lower Bealorn skills and fuses them together. With tools like this, they
likely don't even need the Bealorns, which I doubt is good for the Bealorns."
Naatos grunted. He stood, wiping his hands on his trousers. "Don't remove the strips from those
bands, Amelia. They record data and then transmit it at a set time. Our faces may be on it if we did
not successfully eliminate that information, but yours does not need to be."
"It transmits at a set time? Do you know when it's going to start?" She stepped back, her gaze
falling to the massive insect.
"Perhaps a few hours. It's hard to say for certain. QueQoa and I will take the bodies to the river
and deposit them there. Between the current and the predators, the tech will be damaged beyond
repair. They're likely to assume natural causes. Leviathan, parnassa monsters, crocs, and jumping
groupers should still live in these parts, and they are more than happy to devour mantises. You'll
return to the campsite with AaQar and WroOth and make preparations for our move."
Nodding, she shivered. "What are these for then?"
"Herding or tracking or training. It honed in on WroOth for some reason," AaQar said. "It didn't
try to kill him. Just incapacitate him and move him in a particular direction."
WroOth and QueQoa climbed up out of the bunker. Smoke curled up around them, faint and pale.
It disappeared almost as soon as it passed their heads. QueQoa gave a dramatic shrug, then put his
hand on WroOth's bloodied shoulder and pointed down at the entrance as he said something in a low
voice.
WroOth folded his arms. His mouth quirked. After QueQoa said something else, he smiled
crookedly and held up his hands. Then he rapped two fingers against his neck. Something bulged
along his trachea. Putting his hands around his mouth, he leaned over the bunker opening and blasted
down a great arc of red-yellow fire.
QueQoa laughed, tapped him with the back of his hand to move him aside, and then did the same.
Except his fire was blue and yellow.
WroOth just shook his head. He pushed QueQoa back with both hands, then took his spot once
more at the front of the entrance. This time, he closed one eye, leaned forward, and hurled down
green and blue fire.
Naatos set his arms akimbo. "The scent suppression needs to be addressed as soon as possible.
Unless we spot them visually, we will be dealing with ambushes. Heat vision can compensate some
but not as fully." He turned toward the bunker as QueQoa hurled down green and purple flames.
Rolling his eyes, he growled, then raised his voice. "What are you two doing?"
"Cleaning out the bunker." WroOth grinned, but it still didn't reach his eyes. "You needn't worry.
No one will see the smoke."
QueQoa offered another big shrug. "It takes care of the smell as well. Saves us a day or two of
waiting and sterilizes everything."
Naatos sighed heavily. "QueQoa, you're with me. We're dealing with these mantises. WroOth, find
your boot. You and AaQar and Amelia are going back to camp."
WroOth mumbled something under his breath. He then strode toward the second pile of trees.
Amelia frowned. This really wasn't good.
Naatos returned his focus to her. "You're all right to return to the camp?"
"Of course. I'm going to be fine, Naatos. And we've got the rels for now, so it isn't like I have to
fight. Especially with AaQar being able to make more."
He gripped her arm, then kissed her gently. "Don't get hurt and don't do anything foolish."
She rolled her eyes playfully even as her heart fluttered. "Now I want to." She then nudged him.
"Be careful out there."
 A SIGN

T he return to the camp passed without event. WroOth remained uncharacteristically silent
though he either found his boot or made a new one. AaQar was also quiet except to point
out a large lumbering beetle that smelled like old frying oil. "That's a goliath tunneler," he said
quietly. It was as big as a bison. "They aren't tremendously dangerous though they may try to pick you
up and carry you back to their nest."
"Sounds charming," she said.
"They'll seal you to the wall or floor and leave you there until you die. Then they'll eat you later
when you've started to decompose and the corpse mushrooms have started to grow on you."
She grimaced. "You sound very calm about all that."
Chuckling a little, he shook his head. "Well, they have an obvious scent and are easy to track. And
while their lairs can be challenging to navigate for the unprepared or the unwary, for us they've really
just been more of an annoyance. Some of the cadres kept them as pets. They eat anything; the prey they
snatch is for the hatching season or Grey Season, depending on the time of the year. If you're ever in a
goliath tunneler's lair, use the scent to guide you out. Fairly standard. Though if you smell something
overly floral and earthy do not head in that direction."
"All right." She made a note of that. It was strange for WroOth to not be participating in this
conversation at all. A muscle worked in his jaw as he appeared deep in thought.
AaQar continued. "I would assume you would know this, but, just in case, if a mushroom does
ever try to get your attention and beckons you close, you know not to do so?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "If a mushroom tried to get my attention, I'd have many other
questions."
"As you should. But yes, if you get free, know that generally their living tunnels slant steadily
downward so move up as long as it doesn't smell worse. When they put you down, you should put
both legs together and both arms together and keep as much space between them as possible so that
you can break or wriggle free."
"This place is so strange." She sighed.
AaQar nodded. "Here and farther north, goliath tunnelers sometimes even live in the same caverns
as dolmaths. One good thing though is that if you see a goliath tunneler about, it's less likely other
more dangerous predators are near. It's not always the case, but generally speaking, other than
centipedes and grim worms, other predators prefer to avoid goliath tunnelers."
What a world indeed.
Proteus lowed and moaned a few times even after they left the thicker forest, but he did not object
to her scratching his ears or riding him now. The pungent grim worm scent had mostly faded though
she still caught hints of it when her hair blew in her face.
Winged serpents and raptors attempted to draw close but veered away. One particularly bold
raptor with silver claws and bright green eyes watched them from the clearing, not hungry but curious.
Amelia watched him until they left the clearing and entered the forest again. She didn't pick up
anything from the winged serpents or the mantises. But some of these animals seemed so much
clearer. What did that mean?
As they neared the camp and wove through the trees, Amelia glimpsed a large striped creature
with shaggy fur. It moved in and out, rubbing its long snout against the bark. Was it another bavril?
Proteus's ears pricked up, but he kept walking.
The creature disappeared into the darkness.
Strange.
Upon returning to the camp, the first thing WroOth did was reapply the rels to the perimeter while
AaQar started the fire. Though AaQar gave her a stern look and cautioned her, she insisted on
chopping the herbs and preparing some of the tubers for the evening meal. "I can at least do
something," she said. "There's never going to be a shortage of tasks here. And I have to build up my
strength."
"That may mean that you just sleep so that you can build your strength up," AaQar countered. "But
there is a fair amount to be done if we are going to move camps and prepare for the Grey Season."
Yes. That was an understatement.
WroOth returned after a bit, bringing more large fish from the river. He hung them on the chiron
oak's spiked branches.
"There's a cachi gourd tree on the eastern perimeter." AaQar peeled the bark off the logs and then
split each one in half. "If you could gather some, we could dry them and use them to warn off
intruders regardless of their scent."
WroOth agreed.
After he left, Amelia finished gathering up the chopped greens and placed them in the pot along
with the sliced roots. While the pale copapa roots gave the stew a thicker creamier texture, the
pungent rosemary, salty sousa blossoms, fragrant chives, and other herbs made it smell
mouthwateringly good.
"Will the gourds need to dry by the fire or are you going to use that tanning salt?" she asked as she
poured more water.
"We've got enough of the salt left to start a preliminary warning system," AaQar said, continuing
to peel and split the logs. "Those gourds grow in abundance here, but don't eat them. They're very
bitter. And they might make you vomit."
"Vomiting is something I could do without for today." She sighed as she set the knife down. "I'll go
see if WroOth has brought down enough to bring back."
"Don't over exert yourself or I will be cross with you."
Everyone was so worried. It wasn't that she didn't understand, but she wished there was a way to
make that stop.
The rels extended to almost thirty feet beyond the camp itself. Even so, it wasn't hard to figure out
where WroOth was. The gourds dropped out of the broad-branched tree. Already almost a dozen lay
on the ground, their dull grey-brown or dark-green skins speckled with dirt and leaves.
"How many more are you cutting down?" she called up as she reached the base.
WroOth stood approximately twenty feet above, his boots braced against one of the deep-grooved
branches. He cut a gourd free with almost careless ease. "As many as are needed. Go back and help
AaQar."
The tree itself had rough bark with deep horizontal grooves. She tested one grip and then found
another. Carefully, she pulled herself into the crook of the branch and peered up at him. "Are you still
angry with me?"
He chuckled darkly. "I am not angry with you for nearly dying. I am wise enough to know that that
is actually not a helpful thing to do."
"You said you wouldn’t forgive me if I died."
"Clearly I was joking." He rested his chin on his hand as he gave her a cool smile, then pushed off
one of the green long-necked gourds. "You know me. Always joking."
Gripping the next higher branch, she drew herself up a few more feet. "Even if I couldn’t read
minds, I’d know you weren’t telling the truth."
"You should not be climbing," he said.
"A lot of things that shouldn’t happen do." Her heart was already pumping from the exertion, and
her left arm had started to shake. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"
"And say what? What happened happened. There is no need to—are you still climbing?" He
moved back on the branch, balancing himself easily as he scowled down at her. The gourds swayed
around him, releasing their pungent green scent. "Amelia, stop. You know I can climb a thousand
times faster than you. I could climb ten trees before you could get halfway up this one."
"You can also turn into a dragon and fly away." As she grabbed onto another branch, several
leaves shook free. They floated down in broad spirals. That branch felt a little unsteady. She chose
another one and made it up a little higher.
Rolling his eyes, he started to climb higher, then stopped. The sunlight dappled his face as he
dropped to a lower branch and pushed her back with his boot. "Just stop. You’re going to hurt
yourself if you keep up at this pace."
"Fine. Are you going to talk about whatever this is?"
"There really isn’t anything to say about it." He cut the stem free and dropped the gourd to the
ground. It struck another with a dull clap.
"Then I’ll sit with you." Her muscles already ached. Even with all the itching, it would not have
been so bad to soak in the suphrite. She leaned her cheek against the branch and stared down at the
gourd-dotted ground below. It was a little trickier to keep her barriers up. WroOth’s chaotic emotions
tugged at the edges of her mind and incited her curiosity, but she didn’t dare open herself further.
Instead, she controlled her breaths, holding for eight, releasing for eight, holding for eight, drawing
for eight.
All grew still except for the cutting of the twigs and faint rustle of the branches as WroOth tossed
the gourds down with a soft thud or low clap, depending on what they struck. "This world is wrong,"
he said at last. "And those who have passed—it is wrong that they have. It is wrong that it almost took
you. But that does not keep it from taking and taking and taking. Just because it is wrong does not
mean that it will stop. Or that it will be right. There are times when it is too much for me. I can't stop
thinking that everyone here will die at one point. This world is always poorer for the loss."
She bowed her head. "It is," she said softly.
He moved down to a branch at her level but on the other side where fresh gourds hung out of her
reach. "You came the closest most recently, and I—I am not actually angry with you. Just at knowing
that…one day you will die. Most likely sooner than all of us no matter what the prophecies say, if
they even apply now. And my brothers will die as well. As have all my cadre mates. My friends. And
their children. Most everyone I have loved is gone now. Those whom I love and will love will also
pass. And I will see it. Loss and more loss lies ahead. And I do not know that I can bear it."
She placed her hand over his. "Right now, you don't have to."
"We never heal from the losses." He did not look at her as he spoke. "Not really. They always
take something. Sometimes it is only a little. Sometimes it's almost everything. As the ages pass, it is
easier to act as if—I don't even know." He cut off another gourd and let it fall. "So you have to stay
alive. All right? I am done losing people I love. I'd take almost anything over that."
"How many more do you think we need?" She used her own knife to cut through the thick vine that
held a dark-green speckled gourd. It cracked against the trunk as it tumbled down. Loss and death
were horrible, but there were other things that terrified her more.
He shook his head. "Mara would have loved you. And so would—" His mouth worked, muscles
twitching in his jaw. "The children too."
"I would have loved to meet them. They—the memories—they're—"
He shook his head. "I know. It doesn't have to be said. It's enough that—" He drew in a deep
breath. "It's enough."
She cut another gourd free.
Sometimes enough was all they had. They worked in silence until they had cut another three dozen
free. The ground below was covered in gourds. At last WroOth moved away from the branch and
hopped down to the ground. "This should be plenty. Now we just need to dry them."
She climbed down a little slower. His words hung heavy over her. The more she thought about
them, the more they broke her heart.
He folded and returned the dagger to its sheath. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you, little sister.
You survived. And I am glad for that. You live, and that gives me joy. I just don't like to think about
the fact that a time is coming when that might not be the case. Right now as long as you are alive,
fragile as you are, it's easier for me to have hope."
"For what it's worth, I'll do my best to stay alive. I think everyone here will. Even AaQar." She
gave his arm a light smack, smiling.
He chuckled, sounding a little more like his old self. "True enough. Enjoy the good times while
you can, after all. Make them as best as you can. And may they never end."
She paused, realizing it wasn't that he had really changed his mind or mood. That fear and unease
were still there. He'd just pulled it in a little better and wrapped it beneath a lightheartedness that
represented what he wanted to feel more than what he actually did. Stepping closer, she wrapped her
arms around him and gave him a tight hug.
He hugged her back. "Try not to be all sad on me, dear heart. No matter what I said. With a good
family, the good times never have to end." "As long as you can keep them."
She pulled back, startled at the clarity of the thought that had reached her and how obvious it was
that it was a thought.
"Something's wrong?" he frowned.
"I—" She stopped. Something grey and black moved along the trees, just outside of the range of
the rels. Was that the creature she'd seen earlier? The one following them back?
A long lowing followed as Proteus emerged from the brush beside them.
"What are you talking about?" WroOth scratched him between the eyes, but the bavril barely
acknowledged it. Another long mournful call followed. Proteus shook his head.
Amelia looked in the direction he had focused, the same as the one the other creature had
wandered. "I think there's something out there. He's bothered about it." But was it a bad thing or
good?
 "He does seem a little upset," WroOth said. "Maybe he's hungry." He passed the gourds to her.
"I'll find something for him. Don't get near his jaws. All right?"
She nodded, but she was fairly certain that that wasn't what was wrong with Proteus. As WroOth
disappeared into the forest, she turned her gaze to the south. The red-gold sunlight bathed the shorter
grasses and shrubs in gentle light.
A long grey snout wrapped around one of the trees as a narrow head peeked around. Proteus
lowed once more. He shuffled in place, then shook his head.
Amelia blinked. Oh. That was another bavril for certain. He didn't seem alarmed. It was as if he
wanted to go. He cast a look in her direction, his eyes wide as he stamped his claws into the ground.
Had he found a mate? Why wasn't he going to her then?
She chewed on the inside of her lip. Maybe this was the real reason he had seemed so troubled
earlier. Perhaps whatever Naatos had used to tame the bavril originally kept him from following.
With another plaintive call, the bavril flopped to the ground and buried his snout in his paws. A
loud snort followed, sending up a blast of dirt and leaves.
The female bavril leaped away, disappearing into the trees nearer the mountains. She scratched
him behind the ear, then stepped around him to take the gourds to AaQar.
Arms still folded over the gourds, Amelia returned to the inner camp. "AaQar," she said.
"Whatever it was that Naatos used to tame Proteus, does it keep him from finding a mate?"
AaQar had nearly finished weaving the length of rope. The stew bubbled and boiled, sending up
fragrant odors. "It can. Animals may override the commands with a fear or pain response if necessary.
But usually the charm keeps them from leaving. And part of bavril mating involves very long treks."
She set the gourds by the fire. "Do you think he'd be all right with the Grey Season coming? Is he
safer staying with us?"
AaQar bound off the end of the rope and then set it aside. "In some respects, he is safer, I suppose.
The predators that would likely seek him out in an ambush would have to contend with us as well
rather than only him. But as far as the Grey Season, nothing and no one is truly safe from that, little
sister. Not even we will truly be safe when it is unleashed. Why do you ask?"
"Because I think he found someone. And he seems sad. Besides he doesn't seem to like the forest
the bunker is in."
Smiling, AaQar picked up more of the fibers and began twisting them. "I should not be surprised.
Well, as we do not have a functioning menagerie that can provide for all of their needs, it is not
startling that Proteus would need to depart. He has served us well."
"How is Naatos going to feel about it?"
"This happens. It is far from the first time. And, so far as reasons go, I would imagine he will be
especially sympathetic to this one." He chuckled. "Don't worry about Proteus. Nature has its course.
Even if the Grey Season comes, he is likely to be happier going with this mate of his than if he
remained with us."
"And Naatos is the only one who can release him?"
He nodded. Another plaintive call followed. He glanced back in Proteus's direction. "I wouldn't
worry though. The female will likely stay around for a few days more. They tend to be rather
tenacious." He twisted the fibers around and made a smooth knot. "It's interesting though."
"What is?"
"On Ecekom, something like this would be seen as a good omen. A promise of prosperity. Bavrils
and their kind do not swiftly find mates."
"Hmmm." Amelia nodded slowly as she contemplated this. "Well, if there's one thing I could
agree to more of, it would be good signs. I'll go get the rest of the gourds."
 R E L E AS E

N aatos and QueQoa flung the mantis corpses into the fast-running river. The long legs and
shining carapaces glimmered and bobbed for only a few seconds in the frothy white waters
before the great bluish-silver jaws of some enormous fish seized them and dragged them down.
QueQoa wiped his hands on his trousers. "They won’t get much evidence there."
"No, they won’t." If AaQar was right, and Naatos had no reason to doubt him, that signal wasn’t
set to go off for another hour or so. But the mere presence of these bizarre mantises had him
concerned.
"What do you think their purpose is?" QueQoa gave him a cautious look.
Naatos cleaned his hands off with a papery seven-lobed leaf and then tossed it into the waters.
For a moment, it bobbed and danced before spinning away in the curl of the rapids and out of sight.
"Nothing good."
"Couldn’t be anything else, could it? Not in this place."
He shook his head. For now, they just needed to get back to the camp. Every possible reason he
could come up with for someone training mantises to herd sentients and track them at intervals was
worse than the last.
"Do you think Laachtue would know?" QueQoa asked, walking alongside him.
He raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t the question. It was the way it was asked. That edge of hope. Was
his brother developing interest in this doctor? "I can ask her. Unless you would rather ask her
yourself."
QueQoa grunted in response, then jumped into the air. In half a breath, he’d returned to the six-
legged iron dragon form and thrust himself into the sky. Apparently the conversation was over.
Naatos followed, taking it a little slower. His own muscles had not fully forgiven him after all he
had endured. His concern for Amelia and the slowness of their bond to fully develop had told on him
so many times over already. But the black storm dragon form was so familiar it was like an old
friend. It tore him apart and remade him with greater strength and speed as he scaled the heights.
Winged serpents dove in. He caught a few in his jaws, snapped them, and tossed them back as a
warning.
The rest streamed away on either side, apparently taking the message.
The hostility of these skies was not lost on him, but neither was his own worsening mood.
Laachtue’s dark hints and the impoverished communities outside the walls of Darmoste, what he had
seen within the first layers of the city as well as the manner in which the Bealorns had behaved all
warned him that there was far worse coming.
Especially in light of the Okalu, the blood portals, and the Unformed Ones.
 Not to mention the Grey Season.
Growling, he quickened his pace through the sky. QueQoa fell to his left but then adjusted his
pace. The miles fell away as they passed over the forests and mountains back to the little place they
had made their camp.
He dropped down, releasing the form and returning to his state of rest right at the edge of the
camp.
Amelia knelt by the fire, laying out the broad-bottomed gourds in a neat stack. She straightened
almost at once. Color flooded her cheeks, yet for a half beat she swayed unsteadily on her feet,
reaching out to steady herself on the rock.
The words dried in his mouth. Why did it seem as if he was seeing her for the first time?
Her eyes were shut, and she breathed slow and deep. The bright-green dress was stained and torn,
hanging where once it had clung. After days of tending to her and watching her wither, it should have
been reassuring to see her standing under her own strength. Except that only now in the soft golden
daylight and the rich clean air, he saw her as she was.
The ravages of Dry Deep, the curse, and the long leeches had shrunk her, hollowed her cheeks,
and atrophied her muscles. A strong wind might have snapped her.
Yet it wasn't only that.
The long jagged lines left from the long leech venom had faded some from the night before, but
their presence reminded him of an egg cracking open. As if at any moment she might fall apart and
collapse into dust. Yet not completely. Something was different about her though. Something had
changed.
That stinging scent from Dry Deep had faded, and under it he smelled something else. Like a
mountain wind blowing down through a long dungeon's lower halls. Something stirred within her.
Over the years, he had escorted and guided many Neyeb through Dry Deep. None departed
unchanged, but she had been transformed.
He crossed over to her slowly, looking her up and down. She still breathed deep and slow, her
pulse fluttering rapidly in her neck. She’d pushed herself too far. "Amelia?"
When she opened her eyes, he almost expected them to be white. For the streaks of red to appear
down the length of her cheeks and the dark form of the Ki Valo Nakar to loom over her as before. But
those beautiful warm dark-brown eyes he had grown to love so much greeted him instead. Her face
brightened with a crooked smile that was almost assuredly meant to comfort him more than a
representation of any mischief she felt.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Just breathing." She smiled a little broader, her stance wavering. She steadied herself and then
started to walk away. "You?"
"Where are you going?" And why was she walking so fast?
"Gathering gourds." She pushed through the shrubs, not even glancing back.
AaQar tossed another freshly-coiled rope onto the pile. The glance he gave Naatos warned him
against pressing her on the matter. Just let her be, that look said.
Yet that was hard. Especially when it felt as if he might lose her again in just a single breath.
Also…he tilted his head. The air had an odd taste to it. Turning, he took the entirety of the camp
in. It looked ordinary. Except the bavril.
Something had soured Proteus's mood. He had been acting increasingly petulant this last day.
Amelia had already mentioned that he wasn't particularly happy. Based on the bavril's slumping
posture and half-shaded eyes, it was more than a little perturbed.
 Branches snapped and cracked as WroOth returned, dragging a besred carcass. He dropped it in
front of the bavril with a flourish.
The bavril gave another long bellow, then swatted WroOth with his trunk.
WroOth jumped back with surprise. "You have a complaint to make?"
Proteus lowed, then lashed out with his trunk again. This time WroOth neatly sidestepped it. "I'm
not hunting another."
Another angry bellow followed.
Naatos raised an eyebrow. That was more than a little surly.
"He’s grouchy because there’s a female nearby," Amelia said, appearing on the other side with an
arm full of gourds. She faltered. He caught her under the arm. "I think he wants to go to her." Her
cheeks, throat, and collarbone flushed more red. "You might say they’re in love."
The ululating bellow that followed suggested the bavril agreed.
"Why are you not resting?" he demanded.
She tugged free and twitched her shoulder as if that was an acceptable answer. It wasn't. No
matter how pretty her shoulder was.
AaQar placed another newly-formed coil of rope onto the pile. "It probably is for the best. He'll
have a better chance of going where his instincts guide him for the Grey Season if we don't keep him
here."
QueQoa drank from the canteen and wiped his mouth. "If he's found a mate, he probably doesn't
care if it's safer."
True enough. Naatos watched Amelia from his periphery as he considered the best solution to the
bavril. There was really only one viable solution. He had no more of the charms to tame a second
bavril. They would need some other beast of burden and defense. But this one had served long
enough. He was only going to become increasingly surly and unmanageable, likely by the hour at this
point. Besides, it felt wrong on principle now.
"Delorme, come." He snapped his fingers at Proteus and gestured toward the southeastern side of
the camp.
The bavril laid his ears back but stood, passing over the carcass without glancing down at it.
WroOth picked up a coil of rope and looped it around the besred carcass's grey-green hind legs.
"Well, that was exceptionally rude."
Amelia finished placing the remaining gourds in the pile and then wiped her hands off. "If it's all
right, I'd like to see him off as well," she said.
He nodded, restraining the surprise that rose within him. It shouldn't be shocking that his wife
wanted to spend time with him. And it was quite likely that it was more she wanted to see the bavril
find his own happiness and be free. "Just don't get too close after he's freed," he said.
She nodded her assent.
They walked to the edge of the rels' protection. Amelia pointed to the left. "There she is," she said
softly.
Naatos nodded.
The female bavril had come almost to the edge of the rels. She had a more triangular head than
Proteus and the distinctive broader grey stripes and thinner black stripes along her sides. Proteus
grunted, then gave a long ululating call.
She returned it, but the sound was so low he scarcely heard it.
AaQar would surely remind him that this was often seen as a good omen. Especially when a
female this healthy sought out the male.
 Proteus stamped on the ground, wagging his long shaggy tail back and forth. Then he tilted his
head back and called out again.
Naatos grunted, sounding more annoyed than he felt. "A moment."
Amelia stood beside him, watching with her arms folded and her head tilted. It was as if she was
trying to see straight into the bavril for something deeper. At least she was out of reach of the bavril's
trunk.
Carefully, he slid his hands along the bavril's throat to the base. It was far easier to remove the
charm than to affix it, especially if one wanted to do it without hurting the animal. The thrum of energy
pulsed in his fingertips as he felt the small bulge of the bone charm. The last of Fiere's gifts.
Golden light flowed out. So simple. So basic. One moment it was harmlessly beneath the bavril's
fur and skin, the next it was drawn into his palm.
The bavril hummed a soft sound now, then trumpeted. With a softer hum, he lowered his head.
Naatos stepped back, motioning for Amelia to do the same. She already had.
This was always the crucial moment, and it was the one that always had to be permitted. The
point where the creature was freed and allowed to consider its treatment. What it wanted. What it
despised. He had not always done well with this, but here there was a peace.
Proteus fixed him with a long gaze, then stamped his front claws once more. Bits of dirt sprayed
Naatos's trouser leg.
The female bavril lowed again, shaking her head.
Amelia pressed her lips in a tight line, then nodded, her eyes bright and wet with tears. Of course,
this would be emotional for her. The fact that she would get attached was a given at this point.
Proteus dipped his head forward once more, then turned and lumbered toward the female. As the
two drew closer, they extended their trunks and gently stroked one another's faces. Then she turned
her back to him and ran until she disappeared in the long golden grass. He trumpeted one last time and
bolted after her.
He almost smiled. It was good to see. If they survived the Grey Season, they would likely have a
litter of their own. And if he encountered them in the wild and they were hungry, there was a decent
chance they might try to kill him. Though Proteus might remember. In the end, it didn't matter. This
moment existed, and it had ended well.
Amelia slipped up alongside him and caught his hand. He paused, his pulse quickening. Her grip
was still nowhere near as strong as it had once been, but she was here, present, breathing. He
wrapped his fingers around hers and brought them to his lips. Black streaks and fragmented lines ran
along their length and over her palms and down her wrists to her arms. "They'll be fine, veskaro," he
said.
All traces of Proteus had vanished aside from a few footprints. The happy lowing and grunts that
grew steadily fainter suggested they were still romping at a good pace.
"I know," she said softly, her voice thick. "I just…I needed to talk to you in private too."
He frowned. Were those more tears in her eyes? He turned to face her and stroked her cheek with
his thumb. "Why are you crying?"
She tried to smile, but her lips shook. Even more tears rolled down her cheeks. "I wanted to thank
you, and I needed to apologize."
"We were never going to be able to keep the bavril forever," he said, still confused. Surely she
had understood that. "We do not have the proper facilities for his care. And as he found a mate, we
can't keep him, and we couldn't bring her as well. It has always been this way."
A small laugh broke from her mouth as she shook her head. "No. I've just…I've been thinking
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