Lictor pulls us even higher. The air is colder than spring water. The ground looks to be moving slower, but we have to be moving faster than anything I thought possible. We whiz past a massive bird. It screeches, but the sound is left behind us in an instant. I try to hoot and scream something, but the air is so cold I gasp and close my mouth.

  We come to a halt above a camp. It has to be past midnight, and the sky is overcast, but Lictor has done something to my eyesight. I can make out every individual tree and tent of the camp.

  I point at the lack of torches and movement, immediately realizing the futility of the gesture. My hand is still invisible. Where I’m pointing at the camp, there’s just air. I roll my eyes. It hits me that no one can see the eyeroll either.

  “What do you see?” Lictor says. I’m still holding his hand, which makes it somehow much more bearable to have the invisible discussion.

  “Same kind of camp, but there’s no one here. Where’s the nearest village?”

  “Southwest. It’s more of a large farm. You can see the smoke.”

  I squint against the icy air. It takes a moment for me to find where southwest might be. How does Lictor keep track of the landscape and the directions?

  ”I’ll take you there.”

  ”No, wait, I’m not sure—”

  My words are cut short as I’m wrenched into a new direction. The wind blasts my face. We descend so quickly I can feel as the air gets warmer. Trees rush toward us and keep coming closer and closer. My stomach ties itself in knots and I laugh and scream as we swoop past treetops so close I could probably reach and touch them. For a single heartbeat, torches flicker through the trees under us. I crane my neck to catch them again, but we’re already too far.

  We descend and I’m lowered down to the ground, an orange glow on my face. A large wooden house blazes before me. It’s still standing, but won’t be for long. Flames spout from its doors and windows and a column of smoke rises up, even blacker against the black of the sky.

  The fire casts everything in stark yellow and orange light. No one has been spared. The field before the house is full of the dead. They have been left where they fell. A little hand peeks out from under another body, equally unmoving. I turn my head away but my eyes land on a corpse of a Kertharian, skewered by a long blade of a scythe.

  Lictor’s voice sounds out next to me. ”Some of the farmhands fight back. They manage to kill this attacker before getting hacked to pieces by the rest. The Kertharians leave the corpses. They don’t care about anything except killing everyone who isn’t one of their own.”

  I bite my tongue to keep from throwing up. The smell of burning wood carries other smells that I’m trying not to notice. ”Why?”

  Lictor doesn’t answer. Only the marks his boots press on the grass shows he’s still here.

  ”What reason would they have for attacking a single farmhouse? It looks like they haven’t taken anything from here. The carts seem to be all here! The cattle—”

  An invisible hand settles on my shoulder. ”Locke. This will happen to all of Velonea unless they are stopped.”

  ”Why?” I scream.

  He squeezes my shoulder. ”I wish I could tell you, Locke. I can’t, but I can prepare you. We all depend on you.”

  It’s all far too much. I gasp and my eyes sting. I want to kill every one of them.

  ”I’ll fly you over the area you’re going to be covering. You’ll have maps, but this way you’ll get a better idea of the terrain. Your mission must succeed.”

  He grabs my hand and we bounce up into the sky. I still had questions, but they vanish as the overcast wall of clouds rushes down toward me. Tears flow from my eyes but are blown dry by the wind. Streams of salt groove my face.

  We spend hours flying. The cold numbs my anger, freezes it into a solid ball of determination, resting heavy in my gut. My eyes are nearly frozen shut and I can hardly see the land flying by below us. I try to focus, but my bones ache and my ears feel like they are burning. I know it’s because there’s something awful happening to them. Lille would scold me for letting myself get this badly frostbitten.

  “Aren’t you cold?” I force out from between my chattering teeth.

  There’s a wheeze next to me. Lictor doesn’t sound good either. “Yes. It doesn’t matter.”

  I get it. I want to scream as my body is so cold and desperate and frightened, but I get it. I put my hand in my pocket and feel the spiky thing in it.

  “We have one more thing we can do on this Ride.”

  We’re descending lower and lower. The air is getting warmer, even if I’m still colder than I have ever been. A bird screeches and takes flight next to the spot we land at. I note idly it’s a Horned Thrush. Rare, hard to catch. Delicious. I haven’t eaten anything in ages. Or at least in six hours. I curl up into a ball and hug my legs as Lictor shakes me off his wrist.

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  “It’s time.”

  He’s visible again. There’s clumped ice all around his clothes, especially around the cowl and his neck. The amulet on his chest is hoary, glazed with frost. The ice on his eyebrows and eyelashes is already melting, but I can see the frostbite on his cheeks. It looks bad. His teeth chatter as he speaks.

  “The Etherthorn Weave should be in place. It is done.” Lictor’s shoulders slump and he brushes the water from his face. “Pay attention. I’ll show you what we have done to the world.” He points at a spot on the other side of the clearing. His mouth pulls into a grin, blue lips stretching to show his teeth. “As good a way out as any other,” he says, winking at me.

  I follow his pointing finger and see another large rock at the other end of the clearing. It shines white in the gloom.

  From the corner of my eye, Lictor disappears.

  Something paints the rock black. Seen from far away, it’s like someone spewing out paint from their mouth. The trees around the rock get splattered, as well.

  The smell of ozone lingers in the air. I sit in the quiet forest, alone.

  I try to find the teratome gland from my pocket. My fingers are so numb, it takes me multiple goes to get it out. I keep my eyes from the rock on the other end of the clearing. The spiky exterior of the gland flexes under my teeth before it bursts. I expect to taste something, but I don’t.

  Nothing happens. Mayb—

  The glow of the pyramid fades. Lictor releases my wrist and slaps his hands together. “Good Ride! Great progress! Did you stay long after I left?”

  I’m standing in place, mouth creased open. I lick my lips. I’m fine. I’m warm and the thought that I might be cold is remote and foreign. The bile in my throat is gone. I remember the farm and what Lictor did to himself, but the memories have no weight. It’s like a story, told to someone else. I remember the anger but feel at ease, ready for an adventure.

  How could it have happened to me? Was it real? Who was it who wanted to kill all the Kertharians? Who was it who killed himself? My mind tearing apart at the seams. My sight starts to darken, and I stumble.

  I can’t believe what I’m saying, but I can’t stop it either. “I want to go home.”

  I fall on my knees and curl up into a ball. ”Home.”

  ”Ah,” I hear Lictor say, from somewhere far away. ”Rest, Locke.” Something brushes my temple.

  I wake up with a start. I have no idea where I was or where I am. There’s a candle on a table and someone sitting on a chair next to the table. They lift their head.

  It’s Lille. It has been a lifetime since I saw her last.

  Her eyes are black in the dim light of the candle, as she looks kindly on me.

  I sit up and rub my eyes to get them to open properly. There’s drool on my cheek. Coarse wooden furniture around me. The smell of drying meat in the air.

  I’m home.

  Lictor is nowhere to be seen. I’ve been with him so intensely since leaving the village that it’s odd not having him around. How did I get here? Does this mean that I’ve flunked?

  Have I even been anywhere, for real?

  Lille watches me sweeping the room with my gaze. ”The Janitor brought you here and left. He said he put you through too much, too fast. Didn’t sound sorry in the least.” She grimaces and looks out the window, then cracks a smile. ”Must have been quite an experience. You were gone for all of five minutes.”

  I remember the feeling of coming out of the last Ride. My head swims again, but maybe I’m still groggy from the sleep. Outside, the horizon is dark, but there’s a pink hue to the dark indigo. It has been more than five minutes now.

  “You slept like a corpse. I’ve been checking up on you for all night. What the hell happened there?”

  I wonder if I should tell her. If I’m allowed.

  Lille sees me hesitate and crosses her arms. “You know you can tell me. Those city wizards can play at controlling the world, but this is our village. You are one of us. I want to know what they are putting you up to. If it’s a secret, it’ll stay a secret.”

  I know I can trust her. I trust her more than myself. I run my tongue around my teeth. My mouth is sticky and I’m famished. “I’m not sure if you’re going to believe half of what happened.”

  “Try me.”

  Durn fixes me with a withering stare as Lille brings me into the kitchen from the back. Lille shoos him off and gets me a sturdy breakfast. I’m still in a daze. I have never been a heavy sleeper, but now it feels like I woke up from a coma. It’s breakfast time and everyone else is eating on the other side of the wall, the bustle audible to where I’m sitting.

  I tell Lille about the Mountain Ride. She listens silently. She doesn’t seem dubious. Maybe I’m confirming something she has already heard from the Janitors. Only once I start telling her about the Kertharians and the camps, does she react.

  “You’ve been fighting? And killing people?”

  “Well, not for real,” I say, avoiding her gaze. “It was on a Ride.”

  “Locke, you’re seventeen! They promised you wouldn’t need to fight. One day I was planning to teach you about fighting people, but…”

  Lille’s voice trails off. Durn is cutting up vegetables on the other side of the kitchen, trying to look like he’s not listening.

  “Look, it’s not real. Maybe I don’t need to do it for real. I’ll try to avoid it.” I remember the farm and clench my teeth together. ”And people will die if I do nothing! A lot of people, for no reason at all.”

  She whips her gaze to the side and scowls. Her jaw clenches. “You’re a child. Maybe you’re right about people dying, but it’s still not your place to be fighting soldiers, killing other people. They are sending children to war. Exactly as Gran warned us.”

  The words are like a slap. I’ve already experienced more than she ever might. Flown higher than an eagle. Fought actual battles. Died twice. “Lille, please—“

  “No. I’m calling this off. This is preposterous, inhuman. The Janitors are insane. The city can go to hell. If there is going to be war, it should be fought by adults.” Her scowl deepens word by word. She’s pushing her hands on the wooden table so hard her knuckles are white and the boards creak.

  Lille’s face is redder than I’ve ever seen. “I’m going to Ral. You’re not to talk to anyone outside of the village before the council has sorted this out.”

  It’s final. I remember when Bann wanted to go fight a boar by himself and Ral forbade it.

  Bann went anyway.

  When Lille went after him, her face looked like it does now. Bann still hasn’t spoken a peep about what happened then.

  “Durn, Locke is back. This adventure was a mistake. Let him finish eating in peace.”

  Durn grunts at Lille’s back. She’s striding toward the door. As she grabs the handle, she stops. “Locke, it’s not your fault. We’ll sort this out,” she says without turning around.

  The door slams shut. I sit at the table and let the spoon slide from my hand into the bowl. I’ll never be allowed to go anywhere ever again. The image of the burnt farm flashes through my mind. Tears creep into my eyes as I listen to the sounds from the other room. Bann is telling a story, his deep voice cutting through the hubbub. I put my hands in my pockets and something sharp pokes my finger. Everything seems to stop, the voices in the other room fade.

  I take out the black gland. A small piece of paper is tucked under it.

  When you’re ready for the next one, it says in a tiny scrawl. Below the text, a solitary L has been intricately drawn.

  Durn waves a dirty platter at me. “Well, since you’re back, you might as well do the dishes.“

  I put the gland into my mouth and bite down hard. Again, there’s no taste or smell. Only a pop and air being released into my mouth from inside the thing.