“On your feet.” The araoid soldier prods me as I still y there, mind whirring a mile a minute.

  Someo there—gods, or demigods, or whatever—knows why people like Hans and I are here. Or at least, they know we are here, and they’re looking for us. Until I know why, and that they have our best i i—a’s be ho, the iion with Hans doesn’t bode well—I ’t risk getting captured as well. Which means no one know that I’m from another world.

  Except, Quell already does.

  I g the prince as I climb to my feet, and he’s looking back at me, jaw w like he wants to say something. I give a sharp, minute shake of my head, and jerk my finger ay throat. He presses his lips together, then gnces away.

  This is going to be a problem.

  “So,” Darian says. I relutly meet her gaze. “That guy was your acquaintance, huh?”

  I resist the urge to grit my teeth. “Yeah. We’d just met.”

  She looks at me ftly. “And this aberra Zeyaelid mentioned?”

  “No idea,” I reply, trying to keep my voice level. “Like I said, I just met him. Didn’t want to leave him alo here. But I guess that’s not our problem, now.”

  “And where did you say you came from?” she asks.

  “Captain, please,” Quell interrupts. “I’m sure we’ll have time for plenty of interrogatiohere’s still my sister to worry about.”

  Darian holds my gaze for another moment, then grimaces and turns away. “Of course, my prince. You’re right. Let’s hurry bap before we enter any further… interruptions.”

  I sag in relief at Quell’s diversion. Was that on purpose, or was he just worried about his sister? Either way, it buys me a little more time to figure out what I’m going to say.

  I chew on the inside of my cheek as we walk. I don’t know enough about this world to vingly fake that I’m from around here. And there’s too much about my strange circumstances—like wearing the enemy’s uniform while saving the prihat no amount of ied backstory will be able to expin. My best py is to not expin anything at all.

  Ultimately, I guess my pn hasn’t ged: I still o get the hell away from these people, and especially Quell, before they figure out I’m really not supposed to be here and call up that spider-god-person to e bad collect the other Earthling. Then I focus on trag my brother down. And from there… well, I o take this oep at a time.

  The sound of fighting has tapered off, even as we grow closer to the battlefield. Up close, it’s smaller than I’d inally gauged. Maybe a couple hundred people in all. In fact, as Echo Checks individuals for me, all that’s left appear to be Duneshade soldiers. There are dead on both sides, but not as many dead Moonfall as I would have thought: they must have retreated. Maybe it had only been a distra to try to kidnap Quell and his siblings.

  Whatever the reason, Darian and Quell don’t seem terribly ed with it. They’ve been speaking to each other in low tones ever sihe enter with the demigod. The rest of the soldiers have remained quiet, but have pressed tighter around us, especially around me and the prince. I’m beginning to think I won’t have a ce to slip away unnoticed anytime soon.

  As we breach a sand dune, a rge camp is spyed in the valley beh us. It’s not an army, but there’s at least a huents pitched in smaller clusters around campfires. We head for the circle of tents, and when we grow close, a man breaks away from the rest of the soldiers.

  “Quell!” He strides quickly over to us, his pace purposeful, yet somehow indig that running is beh him. When he reaches the prince, he cps both of Quell’s shoulders. “Thank the gods you’re alright. Yua Tin’s grace shines upon us.”

  Quell grasps the man’s arms like some kind of awkward, socially-distanced hug. “I’m gd you’re alright, too. Is there any word on Liz?”

  Words appear over my vision as I examihe man.

  [Check: Prince stance of the Duneshade Kingdom. Level 35 human grand illusionist. First in lio the Sterling throne.]

  He looks like an aged-up version of Quell who works out a lot more. But despite their facial features strongly marking them as family, the two couldn’t appear more different.

  In trast to Quell’s hastily tied back braids, stance’s locs are -length and near, and unlike Quell, the older brother actually fills out his armor. He doesn’t have gsses, but does carry a on: a decorated red and bck sword hangs at his side. They might be the same height if Quell didn’t hund stance didn’t stand sht. I’m already beginning to get a sense of the brothers’ familial dynamics.

  stance grimaces at Quell’s question. “No, we’ve no sign of her yet. But if two of us fight them off and find a way to escape, then she certainly slip away as well.”

  “Er, well.” Quell awkwardly gnces back at me. “I didly fight them off. I had some help, actually.”

  stance follows his gaze, eyes nding on me and dang over the symbol on my chest pte. He raises a surprised eyebrow. “Who’s this?”

  “That still has yet to be determined,” Captain Darian says. “A detainee, for now.”

  “They saved me!” Quell quickly jumps in. “They’re not an enemy. Er, despite the apparel.”

  “A defector?” stance asks me.

  That’s not a bad cover. I decide to roll with it for now. “I’m not ied in fighting in this war. When I saw your brother, I had to help. Seems like I was just in the right pce at the right time.”

  “And not being ied in fighting,” stance repeats. “Is that why you’re covered head to toe in blood?”

  ht. I’d sort of fotten about that. I guess my half-hearted -up wasn’t as effective as I’d hoped.

  “It was a Bloodlust,” Quell says, which seems to get everyone’s attention. Even the guards seem surprised.

  Darian looks at me with a pitying grimace. “No wonder you don’t want to be in this war.”

  I feel like I’m missing something. There’s something about this Bloodlust that has shifted how people are looking at me. I’m not sure if it’s for the better or worse, so I keep my mouth shut.

  “You were in a Bloodlust when you killed the soldiers who took Quell, but you left him alive?” stance asks, skeptical.

  Quell holds up his hands. “Well they obviously didn’t kill me. They trol it.” He looks at me. “Right?”

  Everyourns to look at me again.

  “Uh.” I was hoping to avoid exactly this kind of scrutiny. I o be careful with what I say; the st thing I need is to draw more suspi and vihem I really am a threat. “Yeah, I’m able to direct it a bit.” A btant lie. “I never would have hurt the prince.” But at least that much is true.

  “Iing,” Darian says.

  Prince stance just gives me a calcuted look.

  “Please,” Quell begs. “Right now we just focus on finding Liz?”

  “Of course.” staurns away from me, being us back toward the ter of camp. The way he walks, with so much fiden his stride, I see the king he’ll one day be. Quell, oher hand, trudges wearily behind, not hiding the slump in his shoulders, absently rubbing the rope burns on his wrist. He catches me looking, and offers a weak smile. I meet the look unblinking until he awkwardly gnces away.

  “Captain Darian, some of your scouts returned in your absence,” stance is saying to her. “There were no leads to the north, however we suspect the ambassador—”

  A cry breaks through the noise of the camp. “Ining!”

  There’s a whistling sound overhead. A flicker of something against the night sky. A bst of fire unches from within the camp, perhaps in an attempt to destroy the ining projectile. Instead, it misses, and the light of the fire burns painfully bright through my night vision, causio squint and look away. Though not before I make out a football-sized seed streak through the air and crash into the middle of camp.

  “Carrion cactus!” someone shouts. Green vi from the ground.

  Oh god, not another murder cactus.

  The soldiers scatter, diving for cover, though to their credit the ones in Darian’s party defensively line up around the princes. stand Darian draw their swords while Quell edges back. Everyone is gearing up for battle.

  Which makes this the perfect opportunity to turn tail and run.

  The guards who’d been fnking me have moved to Quell and stance, and currently all eyes are on the cactus creature rapidly boiling up from the ground in the middle of their camp.

  Is it a little cowardly of me? Maybe. But I’m not about to stick around ahrown in a jail cell while my brother is somewhere out there fighting his way through a battlefield, or killing ivorous pnts, or whatever other horrors this world has to offer. I have people to find and pces to be—her of which are here.

  No one follows as I sprint from the camp. In fact, a handful of soldiers are doing the same. There are bigger things to keep track of than a random escapee. Literally bigger. As I gnce over my shoulder, I see limbs of the cactus creature rearing up into the night sky, dwarfing the surroundis. This guy’s a lot taller than the one Hans and I had to face.

  But it’s not my problem anymore. Ahead of me is the ope.

  A lot of ope.

  I run for a minute, brain trying to process this obvious fact.

  Somehow, it didn’t occur to me until this moment that I have absolutely no clue where to start. álvaro could be literally anywhere. I’d just assumed he’d be somewhere around here because, well, I was, at least, and so was Hans. But there were many more people in… in that dark pce between worlds. I could sehem around us. So where are all those people now? If only Hans and I ended up here, how far away could the others be?

  How far away could my brother be?

  I ch my teeth as I run, frustrated with my circumstances, frustrated with this world, but mostly frustrated with myself. I hate being so useless. I just wish I knew where to start. I o find him and make sure he’s safe.

  [Role Requirement.]

  “What the hell?” I gasp out, gng around as if I could see Eirking at me from behind a nearby boulder. “I thought we were doh this!”

  [Role Requirement,] she repeats, the words fshing in my vision. The arrow points ba the dire I’d e and blinks urgently. [The Knight must protect the Prince.]

  I let loose an insensible, angry yell. This ’t be happening again. I mean, I did just leave Quell back with a murderous pnt that’s almost certainly tearing the camp apart as we speak. But he should be fih the Captain and his brother and all those soldiers around, right?

  [Role Requirement.]

  [Sanity Level: 99%]

  “No!” I gasp, skidding to a halt. I hesitate, looking back.

  [Sanity Level: 98%]

  “No, no, no!” I cry. It ’t mean that I have to protect him any time he’s in danger, it? It ’t mean that I’m tethered to this person against my will? That’s not fair. That’s nht. What about me? Don’t I get a say in all this?

  [Sanity Level: 97%]

  Frustration turns just as quickly to fear. I don’t want to lose my mind. Last time my Sanity Level had been so low I had started to lose my grip oy. Or maybe that was the Bloodlust—or some bination of the two. Whatever the cause, I never want to experiehat again.

  (Though, some part of me still craves the power it gave me. The speed and strength and invincibility. If I could experiehat again without losing my sense of self, would I? That’s an easy answer: without hesitation.)

  [Sanity Level: 96%]

  That maddening static is buzzing at the edge of my sciousness. It’ll only get worse the longer I wait.

  As much as I hate it, I don’t have a choice. I ’t help álvaro if I’ve lost my mind.

  “God dammit,” I growl.

  I turn and sprint back to the camp.