Chapter 12

  Fiora hopped from tree to tree, swift and silent in the deep green canopy. She scanned the ground as she went, seeking her target. The birds had said she was around here somewhere.

  She stopped, her back to the trunk of a tall tree, and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, felt her heartbeat, focused on it, saw it in her mind like a pulsing green star. More light: the tree behind her, its own glacial heartbeat, the sap running sluggishly through its veins. The birds who accompanied her now sparkled in her mind like glittering drops of dew. Then, an explosion of light! Everywhere, life: the dim green shadows of trees all around, reaching up into the sky and down into the ground, the flittering and skittering insects in the branches like scurrying sparks from a crackling emerald fire, the haze of microbial life energy in the loamy soil below, the brighter lights of squirrels, birds, foxes, serpents. One serpent in particular, half a mile away, blazed like a distant red bonfire amid the forest’s network of life..

  Fiora’s bright eyes snapped open, and she grinned. Found her! The birds had been right! (Which didn’t always happen.) But what was Akkama doing here in the forest?

  Fiora continued her treebound journey, springing easily from branch to branch, landing so lightly she hardly made them shiver.

  She soon came overtop of the source of the bright light. Akkama rested against a boulder in a small green clearing, head tilted forward as if dozing in the warm afternoon sun. She wore her red leather armor, including fingerless gloves. One of her hands rested lightly on the sword across her lap, and the other caressed the rosewood erhu at her side. She hadn’t detected Fiora yet! If it were almost anyone else, Fiora would have jumped on top of them for a surprise hug, but she knew better than to do that to Akkama. Instead, she dropped into the middle of the clearing and landed in a sitting position with hardly a sound.

  The air hummed with the passage of Akkama’s blade. The bright dragonsteel came to a halt inches from Fiora’s smiling face.

  Now she could hug. Fiora sprang at her friend with outstretched arms, but Akkama stepped aside and shoved Fiora out of the air. Fiora rolled when she hit the ground and came back upright in a sitting position. “I didn’t know you were coming!” she exclaimed. She had to look up at Akkama since, sitting down, she barely came up to Akkama’s knees.

  Akkama slid her blade back into its golden sheath. She spread her arms. “Can’t I go see my little forest friend when I want?” She smiled too, but her smile had something sinister to it. Perhaps because of the fangs.

  Fiora narrowed her eyes. “Suspicious!” According to the birds, Akkama’s path would have taken her through the forest without coming close to Fiora’s tree. She hadn’t come to see Fiora. Where was she going?

  “Suspicious? Me?” Akkama put a dramatic hand to her chest.

  Fiora cocked her head sideways. In the serene verdancy of her forest, the red and warlike Akkama appeared very suspicious indeed. Akkama proceeded to throw her head back and laugh, suspiciously.

  Fiora leapt up and spread her arms, causing her green coat to flap out around her. She chopped the air with a hand aimed at Akkama. “Captain Shard sent you, didn’t she?”

  Akkama rolled her eyes. “You got me. Too bad you found out like this. Now I’ll have to kill you.” She reached for her blade.

  “You will never take me alive!” cried Fiora. She sprang to the nearest tree and ricocheted off onto a higher branch of another tree, well out of reach. She swung upside down and stuck her tongue out at Akkama. Her coat draped down around her.

  Akkama hadn’t drawn her blade. She stamped her foot. “I wasn’t going to take you alive; weren’t you listening?”

  Fiora giggled.

  Akkama turned away. “Anyway,” she said, “I didn’t come here to play silly games with a silly girl.” She paused, looked around. “Something is missing.”

  Fiora theatrically gazed about while hanging from her knees. “Is it your sense of fun?” she asked. She shaded her eyes with one hand, although being upside down made the gesture pointless. “You used to love playing Captain Shard.”

  “What’s missing is that there isn’t a giant golden deer trying to run me down for drawing my blade on you,” said Akkama.

  “Oh! Catch!”

  “No.”

  “Hee hee! No, his name is Catch.”

  “I know his name! It was a joke! And that’s a stupid name, anyway.”

  “He is trying to mate.”

  Akkama finally looked up at Fiora. “Mate? Come down from there.”

  Fiora dropped, flipped, and landed once more in a sitting position. She nodded firmly. “There are only three female vesta in the whole world right now. So he went to Cimmeria to find one.”

  Akkama snorted in laughter. “Why? So his fawns can die too?”

  Fiora frowned. She grabbed her feet and rocked back and forth on the grass. “He just gets lonely,” she said.

  Akkama folded her arms and looked around. “Do deer even get lonely? What’s with this forest, anyway? You can’t even tell the world is ending from here. Boring.” With a flick of her head, she tossed her ruby-streaked hair over her shoulder. “Won’t last long, though. The soulless are coming. Saw ‘em on my way here. What’ll you do then?”

  Fiora’s brow furrowed, and she brought one hand up to her mouth to gnaw at her wrist. She shook her head slowly. She had no idea what she would do then. She also hated when Akkama called them soulless, but she knew better than to argue. “Where are you going?” she asked after a moment’s reflection.

  “Why, you want me around to protect you? Too bad . Get the deer to do that, or the big oaf. I’m on my way to see him now.”

  Fiora gasped. She rolled across the grassy clearing in a flash and came upright, arms spread, between Akkama and the mountains. “Akkama! You said you would not fight him! You did! Please no fighting!”

  Akkama thoughtfully tapped the hilt of her blade. “Oh, I’d try not to kill him…” she said.

  Fiora bounced on her feet and bit at her hand. Bad! This was bad. She couldn’t stop Akkama, but she really really really didn’t want her to fight Rasmus!

  Akkama sauntered a few steps closer. “You don’t think he’d win, do you?” she asked with a broad fanged grin. She leaned over the much smaller Fiora.

  Fiora looked away. Rasmus had told her that the real reason he didn’t want to fight Akkama was because he was afraid he’d have to kill her. But Fiora could never tell that to Akkama, because that would only make her mad and make her want to fight Rasmus even more!

  “What are you gonna do about it?” asked Akkama.

  Fiora felt tears coming. She didn’t want to cry in front of Akkama! Akkama would make fun of her. But she would beg and plead if she had to, to keep Akkama from fighting Rasmus.

  Akkama laughed and turned away. “Just messin’ with you,” she said. “I’m not going to fight him. He’s a coward, anyway. He wouldn’t go for it. He’s no fun. And you need to toughen up, too. The world is running real short on people you can stop from doing things by crying at them. I know you hate fighting, but you can’t just be out here alone and unarmed without the vesta.”

  Fiora sniffed. “Why…then why are you going to see Rasmus?”

  Akkama’s blade flashed in the sunlight and crashed against the boulder she had been leaning against. A thin groove remained where the sword had struck, notched into the stone. Akkama held the silver blade up to her face for close inspection. “It’s cracked,” she said. “Won’t cut. It’ll break soon. I need someone to fix it. All the good smiths back home are gone, or dead, or the Darkness got ‘em.”

  It took Fiora a moment to understand. Then she brightened. “Oh! Rasmus can fix it!”

  “I know.”

  “Rasmus can fix anything! He can!”

  “Shut up, no he can’t.” Akkama shoved the sword back into its sheath.

  Fiora fell backwards in thought onto the soft grass. Maybe she should go talk to Rasmus first so he didn’t get worried when Akkama showed up? Akkama probably didn’t tell him she was coming. She could get there fast on Catch when he came back.

  She got distracted by the movements of the leaves overhead: a shifting storm of green and blue and white, backlit by the afternoon sun. It was like her and Anthea and Rosma, all happy and dancing together!

  “…Fiora, are you listening?”

  Fiora looked up. “What?”

  “I’m telling you about raiders in your forest. You might want to listen!”

  “Oh it is not my forest, Akkama!”

  “Whatever.”

  “If anything, it belongs to Catch.”

  “I don’t care!”

  “I know about the bad guys. The birds told me.” She raised her hand, and at her soft mental suggestion some of said birds swooped from the trees and rested on her outstretched fingers. They playfully pecked at eat other and flapped their wings in an attempt to clear the others off the limited perching space. She giggled.

  “You know? And you’re just…lying there with birds all over you?”

  “They cannot catch me,” Fiora replied. “And besides, Catch is usually with me. Catch keeps me safe; they can’t hurt or kill him.”

  “I could kill him.”

  Fiora sat upright, startling the birds. “Akkama!” She gave Akkama a shocked expression. She shouldn’t be shocked, though. Akkama always wanted to fight everything. But…could Akkama kill Catch? Fiora didn’t know. She had never heard of a daimon killing a vesta.

  Akkama laughed. “Well, come on.” She strode out of the clearing, pausing only long enough to grab her pack and instrument.

  Fiora performed a backward handspring from her supine position and trotted up to Akkama. She had to jog to keep pace. “Akkama, you are walking too fast!”

  “Too bad.”

  Fiora frowned. If Catch were here, this would not be a problem. But even if Catch was not around, other creatures were. She stopped, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, saw the forest around her. A red bear slept not far away, but Akkama would probably want to fight it, just to prove she wasn’t afraid. There! A herd of white-tail deer grazed a mile to the south. She called to one of them.

  Meanwhile, Akkama had not stopped to wait. The red fire in Fiora’s mind continued…north? The mountains lay to the west. Where was she going?

  Fiora awakened from her trance and scurried up a nearby tree. She hopped from branch to branch until she caught up.

  “Kamy! Jump!” she shouted as she dropped down onto Akkama.

  Akkama rolled onto the ground and came up feet up in the air. Fiora landed on Akkama’s feet, and they pushed off together, launching Fiora back up into the trees. She giggled in delight as she somersaulted twice in the air, slowed to a halt at the height of her ascent, and fell back down. She caught a branch on her way back to earth and swung herself over to Akkama, who had returned to a standing position. Fiora landed in a victory pose in front of her. Flawless execution!

  Akkama shoved her from behind. “I told you not to call me that!” she said. But although Akkama tried not to, she couldn’t help but smile a little. They continued together. Fiora only came up to just barely above Akkama’s waist, so she skipped along the ground to keep up. The deer she had called met them after a couple of minutes. Fiora hopped up on top of it, which brought her close to eye-level with Akkama.

  They traveled in silence for some time. Akkama looked caught up in her own thoughts. Fiora lay down on the back of the deer and hugged it, enjoying the feel of its breathing, its heartbeat. She loved to do this with Catch. The deer looked very different in her mind than Catch did. Catch shone like the sun, and his antlers sparkled like galaxies. Catch radiated warmth—not physical warmth, but a comforting warmth for the mind. When Catch was around, everything was okay.

  Fiora, eyes closed, spoke after the long silence: “Akkama, is there anyone you like?”

  “Thought you were asleep,” said Akkama. “Zayana’s all right. And you. I guess.”

  “I meant like like. I mean someone you always want to be around and really care a lot about. Anyone like that?”

  “No.”

  “No? Not anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Not Derxis?”

  “Hell no. He pisses me off.”

  “Huh.” Fiora considered. “What about Emmius?”

  Akkama hissed in anger. “I do not want to talk about Emmius!”

  “Uh oh. Did he make you mad?”

  “What did I just say?”

  “Whatever it was, he didn’t mean it.” Fiora yawned, then added, “He never means anything. He does not.”

  Akkama grunted in response.

  They continued in silence. Fiora waited for Akkama to return the question, though she was unsure of how she would respond. But the return question never came. “Are you not going to ask me?” she said. She unconsciously flexed her hands, feeling the fingerless gloves she wore to hide her palms.

  “I would if I cared,” said Akkama.

  “Oh.”

  “Why does it matter if we’re all going to die?”

  “I think love matters. So does Catch.” And if Catch thought something was true, then that thing was probably true.

  Akkama scoffed.

  “Derxis says it’ll all be okay,” continued Fiora after a moment of pause, still laying as though asleep on the back of the deer.

  “Like I said, he pisses me off.”

  “So you really think the world is going to end?”

  “How could it not? One way or another, it’ll all be over soon. Derxis is an idiot! He just tricks everyone into thinking he knows what’s going on. So good at tricking people, he even tricked himself. That’s color priests for you. Things are not going to be okay.”

  “So what are you going to do? Why do you need your sword fixed?” Need so badly you’ll even go ask Rasmus for help, Fiora silently added.

  “I’ve joined the Red Hand!” said Akkama.

  Fiora opened her eyes. “I’ve heard of that,” she said. “What do you do?”

  “I’m an assassin.”

  Fiora sat upright on the deer, startling it. “Akkama! What? Why?”

  Akkama laughed, shrugged. “It’s fun.”

  “It is not fun! Assassins kill people!”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. Don’t know why anyone would want to assassinate you.” She laughed.

  “Wait…what do you mean you are an assassin?”

  “Already passed the test.”

  “Hmm.” Fiora felt a natural impulse to congratulate Akkama. But she didn’t want Akkama being an assassin! What was the point of such a thing, anyway, if Akkama really did believe the world was ending? Was she just bored? Looking for something to do with all her skill?

  “What…what was the test?” Fiora didn’t think she wanted to hear the answer, but she had to ask.

  Akkama did not respond at once. “Don’t worry about it,” she said after a moment.

  “Is that how you broke your sword?”

  “I said forget it!”

  Fiora made a small noise of frustration. Not because Akkama wouldn’t tell her, but just because Akkama.

  “What song were you humming earlier?” asked Akkama, obviously changing the subject.

  “What?”

  “You were humming something. It sounded familiar. Was it someone’s Song?”

  Fiora’s eyes widened. Had she been humming something? Someone’s Song? She bit her lip and blushed. Her face went green as it flushed with blood. She looked out into the forest, away from Akkama. “Um…no.”

  “What’s this?” Fiora heard the smile in Akkama’s voice. “It was someone’s Song. Aha! And you were singing it without thinking!”

  “No! It was…nothing. Nevermind.”

  “Oh, come on. Who is it?”

  “I thought you did not care!”

  “I do now. Aww, look, you’re all embarrassed. Poor Fiora. Now if I were Fiora, who would I be embarrassed about liking? Hmm…”

  Fiora bit her gloved hand and growled, which only made Akkama laugh more.

  Akkama continued: “Is it Rasmus? Nah, no way. Me? It’s me, isn’t it? Haha! No? Hmm…”

  “Akkama, stop.” Fiora wouldn’t have minded talking about it like friends. She had even had a na?ve idea in her mind where she and Akkama confided in each other and sat around laughing…But not like this. Akkama just wanted to make fun of her. And she would, especially if she found out whose song Fiora had been humming without thinking. It had been silly of Fiora to think that she could talk about that stuff with Akkama.

  “I’ll just list off all the people you know and read your reactions, okay?” Akkama continued, the grin still in her voice.

  “I’m…I need some privacy, okay?” Fiora hopped off the deer and onto a nearby tree.

  “All right, I get it. One must answer nature’s call. I’ll just be around here, I guess.”

  Fiora darted through the trees until she had put some distance between her and Akkama. She knew Akkama wouldn’t try to follow her. Fiora was one of the few who Akkama could not sneak up on.

  Maybe Fiora should just leave her, go back to her treehouse. Akkama wouldn’t care. Fiora wandered through the forest on foot. If only Catch were there! He always made everything so much better. He couldn’t speak, not really, but Fiora always thought she knew what to do when he was around.

  The net took her entirely by surprise. She yelped as it pulled her to the ground. Mechanical stakes drilled into the earth at the edges of the net, stretching it tight and pinning her to the grass.

  “Yup,” said a gruff voice from behind her. “Green.”

  “So damn small,” said another. “Not much blood.”

  Fiora lay on her side. She tried to wriggle around so she could see who was speaking, but the wire net clung to her and was too tight. It dug into her skin and pinned her painfully against gnarled tree roots that rose from the loamy soil. It made her breathe in short, shallow breaths.

  “Good of you to be cooperative for us,” said one daimon, a female. She walked into Fiora’s sight and crouched in front of her. She had blue crystals on her face like frost, and her eyes burned a cold, deep sapphire. A blaster hung at her hip. She wore a symbol on her breast that Fiora did not recognize. Fiora did recognize the look in her eyes. It was a look she had seen on so many wounded soldiers during the war—the ones that had to go back out and keep fighting when they didn’t want to.

  “We just want your blood,” the woman continued.

  “Oh,” said Fiora softly, her voice shaking. “A-all of it?”

  The woman stood and tapped her fingers on her sidearm. She didn’t answer.

  “Is someone hurt?” Fiora asked. “It is better to not wait,” she continued, struggling against the net. “It is harder to heal all the way if we wait.”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  The woman looked down at her, momentarily confused.

  “I will go with you,” said Fiora. “I will. But I think you should probably let me go first.”

  “Yes? And why is that?” asked the woman. She made some signal to the people behind Fiora. One daimon walked into Fiora’s view, yellow like Rasmus, but much smaller and meaner-looking. (Really, though, everyone was smaller and meaner-looking than Rasmus.) The tip of a short spear rose from over his shoulder.

  “It is just that Catch might see us like this,” said Fiora. “Or Akkama. And then there would be trouble.” Fiora had to catch her breath after saying this; the net so constricted her that she couldn’t get a good breath.

  The yellow crouched down just as the blue had, but was less friendly about it. “If you’re looking to avoid trouble, princess, you’re too late.”

  Fiora’s eyes widened. Oh! A misunderstanding. She shook her head. “No, no, no,” she said. “I am not a princess! I am not.”

  This stumped the yellow for a moment. Then he threw his head back and laughed. He stood. The blue slapped him on the shoulder with the back of her hand. “Loosen the net,” she said.

  “Eh?”

  “She can hardly breathe. Loosen it.”

  He looked skeptical, but shrugged and tapped a device affixed to his forearm. The wire mesh ensnaring Fiora relaxed, and she took a deep gulp of air. “Thank you,” she said.

  The woman grunted in response. “Where’s Izaya?” she asked someone out of Fiora’s vision.

  “A few klicks east,” came the response.

  “Still alive?”

  “Last I heard.”

  She nodded. Then she gestured at Fiora. “Pack her up.” Several other daimon approached. Fiora had enough room to bring her hand up to her mouth. She bit it hard, drawing blood. Not good! What if they killed her? No, that was silly; she needed to be alive to heal people. And she was glad to do it! But what if they took her away? What if they gave her to the Ephathites? Catch would be so sad! And Rasmus and Anthea…what about Jeronimy? Would he be sad?

  “The hero comes,” said a familiar voice from behind Fiora. Akkama’s voice. Fiora struggled onto her other side to see where the voice came from.

  Akkama stood there, sword held casually downward, eyes glinting with red light. A broad sharp-toothed smile split her face, the one she got when she tasted a fight. The air around her wavered with tiny heat distortions, and all the crystals visible on her body glimmered like hot coals in a breeze. At her feet, dropped on the grass, lay a tiny almost-finished replica of a deer made of folded paper. Singed at the edges.

  “Stay out of this,” said one of the men, who shifted a pulse rifle to aim it more precisely at Akkama. “Just back away.”

  Akkama laughed; her eyes flared. She swung the sword up onto her shoulder. “You know what I hate? Cowards. I hate cowards. Now Fiora there,” Akkama pointed at Fiora with the tip of her sword. “She’s a coward.”

  The man with the pulse rifle began to speak. “This is your last—”

  “But there’s something even more cowardly than her, and it’s scum like you who attack the defenseless and then try to shoot me in the back while I’m talking.” Almost before she finished speaking, Akkama spun in a tight pirouette. The dragonsteel blade rang; a flash of light behind her caromed off the blade and vanished upward into the canopy.

  Akkama grinned. Her eyes blazed. She struck like a serpent toward the nearest daimon.

  “Do not kill them, Akkama!” shouted Fiora, but several other voices overlapped with hers, and the still forest air filled with the noise and chaos of battle. “Akkama! Stop!”

  But Akkama didn’t stop. Her blade cut the air in sweeping arcs, flashing fire. Daimon staggered back, tripped, cried out, were cut down. The yellow daimon fell, spraying amber blood, near Fiora. She gritted her teeth, wriggled her right arm free, and slipped it through a hole in the net. The gap in the net just barely accommodated her tiny arm. She grabbed the yellow daimon’s arm. He was still alive!

  Fiora used every ounce of her strength to pull the yellow closer. The device on his arm that he had used to loosen the net came within reach. Fiora had no idea how to operate it. She began pressing random buttons. The third button she pressed electrocuted her. She cried out and thrashed uncontrollably as energy coursed through the wire mesh trapping her to the ground.

  The net came loose in a wave of heat. The electricity stopped. Fiora twitched, stretched, then sat upright and looked around. Akkama stood over the shredded remains of the net, hardly winded after the fight. Several daimon lay on the ground in pools of blood. Only one of them had died so far. Three more, including the blue daimon, now wounded, clustered together across the clearing. They watched Akkama with fear in their eyes.

  “We yield,” said the blue, her voice still strong, although it seemed she could barely stand.

  Akkama propped her sword up on her shoulder and assumed a nonchalant stance. “Not gonna be that easy. You hurt my friend, bitch.”

  Fiora stood on shaky legs and touched Akkama from behind. “Akkama, stop,” she said.

  Akkama laughed; the other daimon flinched back. Akkama’s eyes shone as if reflecting the red glare of a fire. Her sharp teeth gleamed, and her crystals flickered. “This fight’s not over yet.”

  Fiora could see that the fight was over. The remaining enemies were frightened and wounded. They had not wanted death; they had only wanted to help their hurt friend. She had to stop this.

  Akkama drew her blade back in a ready stance, prepared to attack. “Ready?” she said, clearly delighted.

  Fiora reached out and seized Akkama’s sword with both hands just as Akkama shifted her weight to go in for the attack. The hot dragonsteel blade seared her small hands and the edge cut deep into her palms, but she did not let go. “That is enough, Akkama!”

  Akkama looked back at her, an expression of surprise on her face. She laughed. “Come on, Fiora; just let me teach them a lesson.”

  Fiora tried to pull the blade out of Akkama’s hands, but of course she wasn’t strong enough. She only succeeded in gouging her hands more deeply. Her green blood mixed with the other colors already on the blade. But she did not let go.

  Akkama rolled her eyes theatrically. “Fine, fine.” She pulled the sword loose from Fiora’s grip and bent to wipe it on a patch of unstained grass.

  Fiora sensed the life wink out of one of the daimon on the ground. Two. Two dead. The yellow, behind her, gravely wounded. She turned and crouched down beside him. A deep stab wound in the chest. Green blood flowed freely from the wounds on Fiora’s hands so she didn’t have to cut herself. She positioned her hands over his wound and allowed her blood to leak out into his body. Something as intimate as sharing blood, having it mingle within someone’s body…it felt strange every time, although she was used to it. And even though she, as a healer, had an excuse for doing this, it still embarrassed her to do it in front of others. It made her shiver.

  She closed her eyes and focused, saw the life around her as well as the two rapidly festering dark patches nearby. The life in this yellow daimon, who had bonded to a hyena, flickered on the edge of oblivion like a guttering candle flame. Her own blood glittered like an emerald stream in the darkness. She focused the energy in her blood and gave it to the yellow daimon. The green and yellow mixed, and life returned to him. His mortal wound sealed itself mostly shut, his heartbeat eased, his breath deepened.

  Fiora opened her eyes again, panting. It had taken only a moment. She turned to the three frightened daimon who had been watching. Fiora could not help but blush. They cautiously approached, giving Akkama a wide berth. They helped the yellow to his feet. All three of the others had injuries, but only the blue’s were life-threatening. Fiora, too embarrassed to speak, offered a bleeding hand toward the blue daimon. The blue, a bit shocked, hesitated.

  “It is okay,” said Fiora.

  The blue nodded, and Fiora reached up and placed her hands on the wound in the blue’s side. She closed her eyes, concentrated, and healed her. Her blood was cold, often the case with blue daimon. The opposite of Akkama. Sweat beaded Fiora’s forehead when she had finished, and she wiped it with the back of a trembling hand.

  “Done yet?” asked Akkama from behind. Fiora heard the sound of a sword being sheathed. “Then let’s go.”

  Fiora turned to Akkama. “No. We are going to see Izaya.”

  One of the others spoke up. “It’s…it’s too late.”

  “He’s gone?” asked the blue daimon in an unsteady voice. Fiora didn’t want to turn around, because then she’d have to see someone cry. She squeezed her eyes shut, blinking out tears of her own. “Then we have no more business here,” the blue daimon said.

  They left. Fiora and Akkama watched them go.

  “Huh,” said Akkama, her arms folded. “Looks like they got off easy.”

  Fiora looked down at her hands. Green and gold and blue.

  “That’s gross,” said Akkama. “Clean that off.” Fiora looked up at her. “Oh, yeah. And, uh, are you okay? I mean, you look okay, so that’s why I didn’t ask. But…”

  Fiora closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists. She jumped up and down. “Akkama, what is wrong with you?” she shouted; her voice squeaked at the end.

  Akkama tilted her head to one side. “Excuse me?”

  “Why! Why did you have to do that?”

  “Because you were in danger?”

  “No! I was not in danger! Catch or Rasmus would have found me and saved me, even if you were not here!”

  Akkama rolled her eyes. “Yeah, they would have saved you by crushing those mercs into pulp. And what if they killed you first?”

  “They were not going to kill me! They just wanted my blood! And I would have given it to them. I would have been happy to! I just did not have time to explain!”

  “Well sorry. How was I supposed to know all that?”

  “But why—what—did you just have to start fighting as soon as you saw them? You cannot just take a moment to talk before fighting?”

  “Well, I thou—”

  “Shut up! You just wanted to fight them, even though they were no challenge to you! What in the gods’ name are you always trying to prove? Does it make you feel good to kill things that are weaker than you? Why does it matter so much?”

  “Ha! Big talk from someone who just throws their blood all over everyone. They’re all going to die anyway. All you do is stall it out. They’d probably be happier if you just let ‘em go.”

  Fiora opened her mouth to reply, could think of nothing, and screamed in frustration instead. She sat down, closed her eyes, and looked at the life around her. This almost made it worse, because she couldn’t ignore the burning glare of Akkama right in front of her. But at least Fiora couldn’t see her stupid face!

  Fiora immediately noticed something wrong, and just as quickly understood the cause. The two dead daimon, whom Akkama had killed. Their life had already left, but now she saw them in her mind like cancerous tumors, dark voids in the web of life all around them.

  She opened her eyes and stared at the two fallen daimon. They lay near each other. One had been brown, the other yellow. Both were becoming black. One bore spines, the other crystals. One male and one female. A creeping darkness spread over both spines and crystals. Very soon they would awaken as mindless creatures of the void, bent on death and destruction.

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Akkama. She looked toward the dead daimon with Fiora. “I didn’t forget.” She unsheathed her sword and approached the darkening bodies. One of the bodies began to twitch, its fingers slowly clenching and unclenching.

  Akkama spat on the first body and swung her sword in a powerful arc that took the head off of the once-male daimon. The body kept twitching anyway. “Now pay attention, Fiora,” said Akkama. “‘Cause I’ll take care of these ones for you, but once I’m outta here you’ll have to do it yourself.” Fiora swallowed nervously. She had seen voidbound before, but always at a distance. They frightened her because they seemed the very opposite of life.

  “Best thing is to start with the head,” said Akkama. “And of course you gotta do it as soon as possible after they die. ‘Cause once they start leeching the energy out of Arda they get stronger. And yeah, you don’t want to let ‘em touch you either. Hang on. Damn.” She had been hacking apart the voidbound while speaking, spraying black blood over the green grass. The other one had had enough time to stand up.

  Fiora sprang up into the tree branches overhead as Akkama engaged the voidbound. Instead of watching the fight, Fiora stared in mute horror at the dismembered daimon, the one who had been yellow only minutes ago. Her heart raced at the sight of its severed limbs still trying to move, and of the pitch black blood all over the vibrant green grass. She bit her wrist hard enough that she gave a muffled squeak of pain.

  It was over soon. Akkama outmatched the stumbling, mindless voidbound in every way. The daimon who not long ago had been brown fell to the grass alongside the other. But somewhere in the fight, Akkama’s sword had broken completely.

  “Tch.” Akkama examined the broken-off half of her sword. She stooped to wipe it off on the grass. “Come on down,” said Akkama. “It’s safe now.”

  It didn’t look very safe; the remains of the two voidbound still spasmed unnaturally. But Fiora dropped to the ground, a look of shock and dismay frozen on her face. Akkama saw her expression and laughed. “Yeah, disturbing, right? You get used to it.”

  Fiora turned aside and threw up on the grass, though not much came up since she hadn’t eaten in a while.

  Akkama chuckled. “Don’t bother trying to heal those guys,” she said with a wicked grin. “Damn soulless.” She slid the broken half of her sword into its sheath, then put the rest in after it. “Look at this. Pathetic. Reminds me of that asshole Jeronimy.”

  “W…what?” Fiora’s eyes remained fixed on the black and green.

  “I wonder how he stayed intelligent. Did he even really die? Huh. Weird. Not like I care.”

  Fiora gasped. “Jeronimy is not one of them! He is not!”

  “Sure he is. Black, right? Soulless. Songless. Heh, could explain a few things, like why he’s su—”

  “Shut up, Akkama!” Fiora shouted. “You do not know what you’re talking about! Jeronimy does have a Song, and it is beautiful!”

  Taken aback, Akkama raised an eyebrow. “Eh?” She looked behind her at the remains of the voidbound. “Oh!” She looked back to Fiora. “I get it. Black and green, huh? You and Jeronimy? Really?”

  Fiora bit her hand as blood rushed into her face. No, no, no! Not like this. What if…what if she told him?

  “But he treats you like dirt. I mean, he’s an asshole, so that’s how he is to everyone, but you’d think…wait.” Akkama looked intently at Fiora, grinning her sharp-toothed grin. “He doesn’t know, does he?”

  Fiora buried her face in her hands. She just wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.

  Akkama burst out in laughter as though she’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. “Oh, now it all makes sense! Ahahaha! Yeah I wouldn’t want to tell people either. Honestly, what do you even see in him? Is he even capable of returning the feeling? Seems pretty soulless to me!” She giggled and put a hand to her forehead as she gazed at the skies. “Oh, unrequited love! The drama!” She nearly fell down from laughter.

  Fiora turned around so Akkama wouldn’t see her tears. “I…I hope you do fight Rasmus!” she shouted. It would serve her right! Fiora jumped up into the branches and bounced from tree to tree as fast as she could.

  Akkama’s gleeful parting shout followed her: “Better get over that one quick!” And more laughter.

  Fiora kept her eyes closed all the way back to her treehouse. She didn’t need them open to see the branches she scurried across. Something else shone like the sun, a warm light. Catch! He too approached Fiora’s treehouse, but from the other direction and many times faster.

  They met together up in the great big branches of Fiora’s tree. Fiora jumped on top of him and hugged him as hard as she could. He was so warm and soft. “Let’s go inside,” she said. Catch took her into her room. All the doors in Fiora’s treehouse were huge so that Rasmus and Catch could come in. They were not doors at all, really; more like missing walls.

  When Catch entered her room, Fiora fell off of him onto her mat on the floor. She covered her face and kicked her heels into the mat. That Akkama! What was wrong with her? Even though she was mean, Fiora worried about Akkama. Maybe she was lonely? And what did she have against Jeronimy, anyway? Sure he didn’t act very pleasant, but he had never done anything bad to her!

  She jumped up to her feet and walked like Akkama, strutting back and forth in her room. “Look at me, Catch!” she proclaimed in Akkama’s low, sibilant voice. “I’m Akkama and I’m better than you because I can kill you! I just d-don’t even care about anything, b-because I—I’m so stupid, and, and…” The playacting fell apart almost at once, and she collapsed back onto the mat. She sighed, too exasperated and tired to even get a good round of crying in.

  Catch’s weight came to rest beside her. He’d been on a long journey. “Oh, I’m sorry, Catch!” she said. She put a hand on his soft shoulder. “How did it go?”

  He looked at her with a great silver eye and then hung his head sadly. Fiora stroked his leg. He could tell her more in her dreams tonight when they cuddled up and slept together, but it looked like things had not gone well.

  Birds gathered on the windowsills to greet her, and assorted creatures hopped, scurried, or slithered into her room. The badger she had brought and healed up the other day waddled grumpily out of the kitchen and curled itself up beside Catch. He might need help getting back down to the ground later. There was an adorable litter of baby foxes that Fiora had meant to show Akkama because Akkama loved baby animals, but now Fiora wouldn’t show her because she was too mad.

  Fiora said hello to all of them, and then rolled over on her mat and scooted herself up to her portable computer. She tapped a button, and a screen flickered to life in the air before her. She had to shoo a blue heron out of the way of the projected holographic screen. Rasmus. She should probably tell him about Akkama coming.

  FI: rasmus!

  FI: come in rasmus

  FI: I know it is not stormy on the mountain today!!

  FI: but you might be in the forge

  FI: or in the mine

  FI: or maybe you are on a journey!

  FI: without telling me!!!

  FI: maybe you are fighting a monster!

  FI: talking to you is no fun when you are not there rasmus!

  FI: I hope you know

  FI: but I will be here

  FI: waiting

  FI: so message me back whenever you can!

  FI: I will just

  FI: ...

  FI: keep...

  FI: ...

  FI: ..

  FI: .

  FI: waiting

  Fiora frowned. She growled in frustration and rolled over, coming face to face with an iguana. She scratched her behind the ears. Rasmus was probably busy. Unlike Fiora, he had duties to attend to. Nobody made him do them, but he chose to do them. He chose to maintain the temple, and work the forge, and ring the gongs, and he took it very seriously even though the Thunder God was dead. He himself was the closest thing to a thunder god that still existed.

  Fiora sighed. Would Akkama really tell people about Jeronimy? She might. Fiora thought Akkama would be even more likely to, though, if Fiora asked her not to.

  Her computer beeped.

  RA: GREETINGS FIORA

  RA: I AM SAFE FROM MONSTERS FOR NOW

  RA: OR PERHAPS THEY ARE SAFE FROM ME

  RA: HA HA HA

  FI: aaaaah too scary!

  FI: use your exclamation points rasmus!

  RA: AND INDEED I SHALL!

  FI: more!! more!!!!

  RA: BEHOLD!!! I AM FIORA!!!!!!!

  FI: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  RA: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  FI: wow!

  FI: hey!

  FI: let’s talk like each other!

  RA: AN EXCELLENT SUGESTION

  RA: by which I mean

  RA: wow fiora! That sounds like fun!!!

  FI: INDEED

  FI: BUT THERE IS SOMETHING IMPORTANT THAT YOU SHOULD KNOW

  RA: whatever could it be?!?!

  FI: HEE HEE

  FI: HO HO

  FI: IT IS THIS: THAT AKKAMA APPROACHES YOUR MOUNTAIN

  RA: gee whiz!

  FI: HAHA I DO NOT TALK LIKE THAT

  RA: golly, you sure do!

  FI: DESIST

  RA: oh shucks!!!

  FI: HAHA!

  FI: okay that was fun but we need to be serious about this!!

  RA: NEED WE?

  FI: yes!!

  RA: DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE WANTS?

  FI: she is not coming to fight! she only wants you to fix her sword

  RA: AH, THE DRAGONSTEEL BLADE

  FI: you do not need to tell me how it was forged

  RA: WOULD YOU CARE TO HEAR THE TALE OF HOW THIS BLADE WAS FORGED?

  RA: OH

  RA: SO SHE DOES NOT INTEND TO DO BATTLE?

  FI: it is Akkama! she always intends to do battle!

  RA: VERY TRUE

  FI: but I am pretty sure it is just for her sword this time

  FI: it is broke right in half!!!

  RA: GOODNESS ME!!!

  FI: heehee stop!

  FI: but really

  FI: if she gets

  FI: you know

  FI: like herself

  FI: I would not mind this time if you had to take her down

  FI: a little

  RA: IS THERE SOMETHING YOU WISH TO SHARE WITH ME FIORA?

  RA: WHAT HAS SHE DONE?

  FI: nothing really!

  FI: well actually I get the feeling that she has just done something really bad she didn’t want to tell me about

  FI: she is just...

  FI: so frustrating!!!!

  RA: FRUSTRATING IS NOT THE WORD I WOULD HAVE CHOSEN MYSELF

  FI: well

  FI: if she tries to tell you something about Jeronimy

  FI: do not believe her!!

  RA: HA HA HA

  RA: REST ASSURED, I HAVE NO INTENTION OF BELIEVING ANY THING SHE SAYS

  FI: well I do not know about that...

  RA: I APPRECIATE YOUR WARNING

  RA: FOR THE DRAGONSTEEL I HAD BEST BEGIN HEATING THE FORGES NOW

  RA: IT WOULD NOT DO FOR HER TO LINGER ON MY MOUNTAIN ANY LONGER THAN NECESSARY

  FI: okay try to be nice to her though

  FI: even though I know it is really hard sometimes

  RA: I WILL PUT FORTH THE EFFORT

  FI: thanks Rasmus!

  RA: THANK YOU ALSO FIORA

  RA: AND SAY HELLO TO THE VESTA FOR ME

  “He says hi,” she told Catch. Catch snorted and turned his head away, unimpressed by Rasmus’s ongoing efforts to befriend him.

  Fiora rolled over on her back and held her hands up in the air. She pulled off one of her gloves, which were both cut right through thanks to Akkama’s sword, and she looked at the star-pattern on her palm. Would Jeronimy ever see it? Did she really want him to? She put her hands down and sighed.

  She wondered what her other friends were doing.