[Check: Level 32 Amphiptere. Typically located in alpine climates, these winged, legless reptiles primarily feed on birds and deer. As solitary creatures, they can be known to be highly territorial.]

  The amphiptere’s head cranes out of its alcove, blue and white plumage ruffling down its pebbly skin. Its jaws are easily big enough to swallow me whole. It’s the brightly colored balloon on Flint’s craft that has its attention, though. The creature slithers from the rocks, head staying level and tuned on the balloon while the rest of its coils drop to the ledge below. Clouds scatter in its wake, and I hear someone cry out. Between the swirling mists, I can make out Zyneth and the others on the same ledge. The amphiptere stands between them and the rest of the Isles. At their backs, the ledge drops away to nothing but thin air.

  I take in all of this in about five seconds: coincidentally, the time it takes for my rope to swing back toward the amphiptere. The serpent’s eyes slide down to me.

  I don’t have time to make a plan. I let go of the rope, flinging myself toward the platform. But I’m too far away, or not at the right angle, or lack the momentum—whatever the cause, I can tell I’m not going to make it. Panic spikes through me. I focus on my glass and yank it as hard as I can toward the ledge. Still not enough—

  The predator locks up our void and throws its weight into the push. We fly like a dart toward the platform, crash into its surface, and go rolling. A flurry of minor bludgeoning damage notifications pass through our mind.

  The amphiptere’s head swivels after us, our aerial acrobatics distracting it from the balloon. Flint is already beating a hasty retreat. Good. Which just leaves…

  Well, the rest of us, only feet away from the belly of the beast.

  The serpent snaps toward us, jaws wide. Glass and void jump into shape around us, forming several limbs and even a Shade Scythe. We tense, waiting to strike the moment it’s in range—

  A dagger slams into the creature’s jaw, closely followed by three arrows in rapid succession. The amphiptere shrieks, flinching back. Its wings spread, flapping in alarm. The wind blasts into us with unnatural force, sending us skidding back toward the ledge. We dig our claws in for purchase, glass screeching over stone. Behind us, the others are also caught in the gust. Rezira has planted herself against the wind and grabbed Noli; Zyneth is down on a knee, bracing, and the last—

  Attiru stumbles back, caught off guard. We snap one of our limbs out, grabbing their wrist and yanking them forward and onto the ground.

  [...cane Guardian activ…]

  Strength flows through our magic, and we use two more of our limbs to grab and help root the others as well. The wind passes only a few seconds later as the amphiptere’s wings land back on our ledge, shaking the stone. It hisses, craning over us in anger.

  We let go of the others, stabbing toward the serpent instead. It snaps, and our limbs catch in its mouth. We grab the fangs and attempt to force the jaws open, but the force of its bite is so intense and sudden that it snaps shut around our limbs. It jerks its head back.

  Uh oh.

  We’re already letting go as it yanks us off our feet. Our Shade Scythe slashes across its mouth, and the amphiptere flinches back, jaws parted, dropping us to the ground. Luckily we’d only been pulled a few feet into the air at that point, but it was a near thing.

  “Kanin, back!” Zyneth shouts, already racing up behind me.

  Retreat? Indignation swells within us. No, that is not our nature! We are not prey.

  Yet we hold ourself back from pursuing the serpent, our limbs still poised, ready to strike, but hesitating.

  That few seconds is all Zyneth needs to race past us and slam a glowing yellow hand into the side of the serpent. Lightning explodes from his palm.

  The amphiptere convulses as tongues of electricity crackle along its body. Its tail spasms, jerking our way. We jump back into motion once more. Springing to Zyneth first, we grab him around his stomach, causing him to let out a surprised yelp, then leverage all the rest of our limbs beneath us, and push hard against the ground. We leap over the amphiptere’s tail as it smacks into its own side, impacting the place Zyneth had been moments before. We land on the other side, darting back to the others.

  Zyneth’s electricity vanishes the second his hand is pulled away. The amphiptere goes limp, and the creature collapses to the ground like a slack rope. Abruptly, the scene is still, and the quiet is only punctuated by heavy breaths.

  “Holy shit,” Attiru says, voice shaky. We’re not sure if they’re talking about the amphiptere or us.

  [...vel up!] More words and numbers crackle irritatingly through our mind, which we ignore for now.

  Zyneth exhales, patting the limb we have wrapped around his core. “You can let go of me now.”

  We dissolve the limb into its void and glass constituents, likewise banishing the Shade Scythe and other impromptu limbs. Okay. That’s enough. Time to separate.

  “Thanks for the assist,” Zyneth says, still keeping an eye on the amphiptere.

  We sit back, no longer paying attention to anything external. Come on. Our mind gently tries to pull away, but doesn’t force it.

  But we don’t want to separate. That was fun! Okay, maybe we do understand how danger can be fun. But this place is dangerous; we would remain safer like this.

  That wasn’t the agreement. And there’s no danger now.

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  “Kanin?” Zyneth asks, hovering nearby. “Do you need help?”

  Gathering our wits, we shake our head. “No. Working on it.” Then we pointedly turn our attention back inward.

  With a grumpy reluctance, the predator lets go. Our minds come apart slowly, but without pain.

  We’re going to need to have a conversation about boundaries, I think at the predator. It responds with an impression of confusion.

  “Okay,” I tell Zyneth, looking up at him. “I’m good.”

  Relief softens his worried expression, and he offers me a hand. I take it, letting him pull me to my feet.

  A tremor goes through his grip, and now that I’m paying attention, his breaths are measured, like he’s carefully trying to keep them slow and quiet.

  “Are you okay?” I ask quietly.

  He nods. “I’ll be fine. Had to put more into that spell than I thought.” He flashes me a reassuring smile. “Just don’t go expecting me to bust out another one today.”

  As we rejoin the others, it’s hard not to notice that they’re all giving me careful looks. Not a surprise, really. I try to read Noli’s expression, but can’t figure it out.

  “Everyone alright?” I ask with no small amount of awkwardness.

  “Are you?” Rezira replies.

  All I can do is stand there, enduring the stares. “Yeah.”

  “Come on,” Zyneth cuts in before the discomfort can fully settle over us. “We need to get moving. The creature is paralyzed, but not dead.”

  That pulls Rezira’s attention away from me. “Shouldn’t we finish it off?”

  “I’d rather not,” Zyneth admits, heading around toward the amphiptere’s head. “Its corpse would attract scavengers, while its living presence might keep smaller predators away.” He yanks the knife he’d thrown into the serpent’s cheek from its hide. Then he works at Noli’s three arrows, which are sticking from its face like porcupine quills.

  “Zyneth is right,” Noli signs after a moment, heading over to help with the arrows. “I prefer to hunt only what I intend to eat—killing this would be such a waste. Besides,” she adds, her face suddenly pinched with worry. “What if it has babies!”

  “Probably not,” Zyneth says. “I believe it’s male.”

  Rezira pointedly does not interpret this.

  Zyneth wipes off his knives, and Noli checks over her arrows, and then we’re all picking our way around and over the coils of the serpent, finally moving away from the edge of the Drifting Isles.

  Zyneth takes the lead, insisting on checking the ground for stability or any potential traps, while Rezira takes up the rear. Noli falls in line beside me, and Attiru lags behind the two of us. Their continued silence doesn’t escape me.

  Noli turns to me. “So that was the predator?”

  “Yes,” I sign. “Sorry I wasn’t able to give any warning.”

  She shakes her head as if that was a silly thing to say. “The sky serpent didn’t give us one! Goodness, when you let go of that rope, I nearly had a heart attack! I thought for sure you were going to fall.”

  I chuckle. “Me, too. Remind me never to do ropes again.” I’m better off just working with the predator and trying to float myself wherever.

  “I’ve never seen anything like that,” Noli admits, and at first I think she’s still talking about my near miss. “Those glass and shadow limbs. They look kind of like tentacles, don’t they?”

  I inwardly grimace. I’ve noticed the same thing, and I’m fairly sure the preference is something the predator picked up from all the time we spent on the Prismatic.

  “And there were six of them,” Noli adds. She grins brightly, then holds her thumb and pointer finger apart as if referencing something small. “Just like me!”

  Her clockwork body. That’s right, it had been shaped like a squat octopus with only six limbs. Huh. Had that also been subconsciously affecting how many limbs we formed? Now I’m not sure.

  Noli drops back to say something to her wife, and I relax a little. She’s not scared after all. Granted, that entire fight had maybe lasted thirty seconds, so it wasn’t like she had much of an opportunity to see or interact with the predator. But the unspoken support she just gave me is nice. Comforting.

  Attiru steps up beside me next, quickly dampening my relief. They’re rubbing their wrist.

  “Sorry I grabbed you like that,” I say. “Are you hurt?”

  Attiru removes their hand, showing their wrist; it looks a bit swollen and scuffed. “I’ll get Rezira to take a look at it later,” they say. “But actually, I wanted to thank you. I think you saved my life. I’m not sure if anyone else even noticed I nearly fell.”

  “Oh.” That’s not where I expected this conversation to go, either. “Sure. Of course.” I hesitate. “You’re not… um. I mean, I’ve heard it’s pretty creepy looking.”

  Attiru laughs quietly. “If you’re asking me if I was scared, yes, absolutely. When I saw that shadow stabbing toward me, just for a moment, it threw me back to Peakshadow.” They grab their shoulder and massage it with their thumb. “But that fear was pretty well overshadowed by the terror of falling a thousand feet to my death. And as soon as it pulled me back toward solid ground, I knew this was different. So, thank you.”

  There’s an aching lump in my soul. “You’re welcome.”

  They give me a crooked smile. “Next time, just don’t grab my writing hand.”

  I chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind during the next death-defying circumstance.”

  Attiru’s smile falls. “Gods be good, I hope there’s not more like that. I think I’ve already had my fill.”

  “Zyneth did try to warn you not to come,” I say, amused.

  Attiru grimaces. “Alright, no need to rub it in.”

  Then, as if we all passed over some invisible threshold, the clouds around us peel away. Our surroundings abruptly come into focus, and we stop, taking in the view.

  Blindingly white clouds swirl around us like we’re in the eye of a hurricane, a spot of clear blue sky far, far above. Before us is a green valley, complete with a waterfall and lake, smaller clouds like sheep drifting over its surface. But the real view is above us. It’s like someone took a hammer to a sheet of land, then suspended all those broken pieces in the air above it. Some are as small as houses, others at least a mile across, each of them laced together with tree roots and vines like a spiral staircase to the heavens. The waterfall on our lowest level pours down from several layers above.

  And then there’s the ruins. The remains of marble-like structures protrude from the landscape, crumbled and overgrown. There’s some shapes and hillsides that look like they might have been mammoth statues at one point, and in fact some of the floating rocks above appear to be the remnants of a hand, or shield, or sandaled foot.

  Rezira gives an appreciative whistle. “They don’t call it the Drifting Isles for nothing.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Noli agrees.

  “I’d read accounts of it before, but never could have imagined such majesty.” Attiru slips a small notebook out of their pocket and, despite their earlier complaints, begins jotting some notes on the pages within.

  “It’s all those things,” Zyneth says. “And, while it seems redundant to say so now, it’s also important to remember it’s incredibly dangerous. Please don’t forget to keep your wits about you.” He crouches at that point, slinging his pack off his shoulder. I stop by his side to watch.

  Zyneth removes a loose sheet marked with a spell circle and the wooden box Vardi had given him. Carefully opening the box, he removes the scrap of cloth and sets it on the spell circle. Touching a finger to the lines, the circle glows, and the paper folds around the cloth like living origami.

  When it stops, it’s become a bowl, and the cloth appears to be floating atop an invisible body of water. The cloth has also been folded into a rough arrow shape, which is now swiveling around like the needle of a compass. A three-dimensional compass, as it flips up and down as well as spinning left and right.

  For a moment, it quivers to a stop, pointing straight at me. Zyneth tips his head, giving me a curious look. I take a nervous step to the side, and the arrow follows. Then, as if losing my track, the arrow swivels away, finally locking in on something both ahead and above us.

  Zyneth packs the box away and stands, moving the bowl around to confirm it doesn’t change targets again, but it adamantly continues to point toward a spot high in the clouds.

  “Well, then.” Zyneth surveys the rest of us. “I guess we better get started.”

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