The rainbow puffball of the Kaneake wheeled in the sky as the Bakbak sunk closer to the ground. The Bakbak only had two or three volleys left before it’d be bare-winged again. All they need was a way to block the projectiles until then. Without magic or abilities to help, only one thing fit the bill.

  “Run for the nest!” Ayn shouted.

  Sheyric didn’t stop her this time. Ayn nearly fell on her face. Her legs weren’t listening very well, and the glare of the snow looked oddly dark. A flush of warmth, and her vision cleared.

  HEALTH AT 86

  Ayn didn’t have time to be annoyed at Sheyric breaking his promise, or glad for the sudden dulling of pain. They sprinted across the snow, Kayara and Ayn’s increased agility letting them pull ahead of the spellcasters.

  The Bakbak tracked them with ease. More sharpened feathers torpedoed their way.

  “Sheyric, use the icicle!” Ayn said.

  An ice wall went up, blocking the feathers aimed at him and Bren. He was too far away from her and Kayara to matter. A hand slipped around her waist, and before she knew it, Kayara had pulled her close and jumped.

  They twisted through the air. One feather flew harmlessly by. They didn’t quite dodge the second. It shattered the remnants of Ayn’s shield, scraping her thigh as it passed.

  HEALTH AT 79

  Kayara landed with the grace of a dancer, twirling as she let go of Ayn. Ayn stumbled, her newest injury and creeping cold making it even harder to figure out up from down. Her arms shot out for balance and hit the stone pillar of the nest. They’d made it. Kayara didn’t let her bask in relief.

  The ranger shoved the Kaneake feather into her belt. “Eyes up.” Kayara started to move away, then hesitated. “And sorry about that. I’d really thought I’d got you out of the way.”

  It took Ayn a second to realize Kayara was talking about the one that had scraped her thigh. Sure, it hurt, but compared to all her other injuries, it hadn’t done much. “It’s fine.”

  “It’s not. Try not to get hit.”

  As Ayn’s thoughts caught between Kayara’s concern and how she was meant to tank without getting hit, Sheyric and Bren joined them at the pillar, and the Bakbak, now a few feet above the ground, took aim with its last volley. Ayn was about to shout commands when a rainbow puffball dropped from the sky, plowing through the Bakbak in its haste to land.

  The Bakbak skid across the snow-covered rock with a strangled screech. The Kaneake kept going, bouncing to a stop over the small pile of silver grain they’d left. Kayara rushed toward them. Ayn wasn’t far behind. The Kaneake had taken far longer to take the bait than Ayn had hoped, but the results were better than she expected.

  Whether because of the hit, or its lack of feathers, the Bakbak was having a hard time getting up as it flopped across the ground. Neither she nor Kayara had any intention of waiting for it to recover.

  They aimed for its throat. Four blades ran across its bald neck, spilling frosted blood into the snow. Kayara let go as ice ran up her blades. Ayn kept slicing. She had the feather, and even at a bit of a distance, she could feel the Kaneake’s warmth. If she could end the Bakbak right now, it’d be worth frostbite, or even a curse.

  Kayara grabbed the back of her armor and yanked. “What did I just tell you?”

  “I can kill it!”

  “Before or after it kills you?”

  “It doesn’t matter!”

  “It matters to me!”

  The blood lust drained from Ayn. She stared at Kayara, her mind blank of any response.

  A loud thudding came from behind Ayn. Kayara pulled Ayn farther back, shielding her from the Bakbak who’d finally regained its feet. Blood poured from its neck. It gnashed crimson teeth and lunged for them both.

  A massive, colorful puffball slammed it to the ground. Snow turned to steam in the aura of the Kaneake. Ayn’s mind reeled harder as the two birds fought, forcing Kayara to drag her out of the path of danger like a dumbstruck puppy.

  The match’s victor was clear. The Kaneake pecked and scratched at the Bakbak’s wounds, pinning it down until it puffed out of existence.

  PRIMARY QUEST COMPLETED: SURVIVE THE BAKBAK

  With a screech of victory, the Kaneake launched into the air, flew a little circle, then alighted in the bone nest and pecked. A loud cracking echoed across the plateau.

  “Are there…eggs up there?” Kayara asked. “Did that thing help us just so it could get more food?”

  As if in answer, the Kaneake raised its head to gulp down its prize, orange yolk dripping off its beak.

  Kayara sighed. “Guess that’s a yes.”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  When Ayn didn’t react, she frowned, then seemed to realize she still had a death grip on the back of Ayn’s collar. She let go and stepped back. “Sorry about yanking you around like that.”

  “Thank you,” Ayn blurted.

  “Uh…yeah. No problem.”

  Ayn looked away, searching for anything to break the awkwardness clogging the air. A patch of red, purple, orange, and blue feathers caught her eye. “More feathers!”

  She cringed at her overly enthusiastic tone, but it served its purpose. Kayara quit looking at her and focused on the Kaneake feathers lying where it had fought the Bakbak. Exactly four more.

  “Well,” Kayara said. “It seems The System expected us to lose the things. It’s been a right jerk, but at least this is nice of it.”

  The Kaneake screeched from atop the bone nest.

  Kayara raised an eyebrow. “But perhaps we shouldn’t test the limits of its kindness, yeah?”

  *****

  With nowhere else to go, and no desire to stay with the hungry Kaneake, the party scrambled back down into the snow-filled valley they’d fallen into. To start, up the rock wall had been the only path out. It quickly became apparent that was no longer the case. A perfectly round tunnel pierced one side of the valley’s walls, burrowing deep into the mountain. The wolverine sat outside the tunnel’s entrance like a fuzzy gargoyle and watched them as they approached.

  “Did…did it dig that?” Bren asked.

  “If it did, it’s been seriously holding out on us,” Kayara said.

  Ayn didn’t remark on Kayara not lashing out at the animal.

  The wolverine seemed to notice, however, and trotted a little closer to the ranger. It froze at Kayara’s glare and flattened itself into a rug in the snow. Ayn stifled a smile. It almost seemed as if the wolverine was trying to be cute. Sheyric seemed to agree, and rushed forward to pet the rug, which promptly got up and trotted into the tunnel, the healer not far behind.

  As soon as Sheyric’s foot hit the circular tunnel floor, he slipped sideways, hitting the slick wall only to slide into a blue and gray heap of robes.

  Ayn stopped at the tunnel’s entrance and helped him up, or tried to. Every time he tried to stand, his feet would tangle and down he’d go, until Ayn had to pull him out of the tunnel on his knees. The healer stood, dusted his robes off, and moved over to let Kayara by as if nothing had happened.

  “The tunnel is covered in ice,” Kayara said.

  Ayn peered in from beside her. Sure enough, the surface of the perfectly smooth rock glistened, almost as if it was wet. Finger-sized holes punctured the glassy surface at regular intervals, forming claw-prints where the wolverine had passed.

  The exit stood about eighty feet away. Blinding light and snow shone on the other side, while a wolverine colored blotch sat not far away.

  With her assessment done, Kayara stepped lightly into the tunnel. She braced against the ice-slicked sides and walked off as if she did such things every day. Ayn supposed an Acrobat did.

  Ayn followed, mimicking the ranger’s pose. She quickly understood Sheyric’s problem. There was no purchase. Her boots and hands wanted to slide off the tunnel’s surface like water off glass. Only by pressing with all her strength could she keep from ending up in a heap, as Sheyric had.

  She’d made it about twenty feet in when a series of thuds came from behind her, and Bren let out a sharp curse. The surprise nearly made Ayn lose her concentration. She didn’t think a Crafter’s Guild favored son was capable of such language.

  “What’s the matter, Choir Boy? Arms too noodly?” Kayara called from the exit.

  “Hey….” Thud. “You….” Thud.

  Kayara’s grin grew with each fall. Ayn shook her head and shuffled back a step. As much as Kayara seemed to enjoy tormenting Bren, they all needed to get through the tunnel, and right now, it sounded as if their mage was still stuck at the entrance.

  Kayara noticed her move back and quit grinning. “Don’t. If Fish-Out-Of-Water clings to you, you’ll both go down.”

  “Well, I can’t just leave him, can I?”

  Kayara cocked her head as if considering the possibility. Ayn took another step back.

  “You’re right,” the ranger said. “But holding on to him isn’t going to help. It’s too slippery. We have to make it through on our own.”

  “My strength isn’t high enough to do what you did,” Bren growled from the tunnel floor. “So I’m open to suggestions.”

  Kayara sighed, then explained in measured sentences. “You don’t have the agility to stand, nor the strength to stay standing. So, stay lying down. Flat on your back. Use your feet and arms to push yourself along like a sled. It’ll take a lot less strength and agility than trying to walk. That goes for you too, Sheyric. Don’t try to stand.”

  Ayn stood her ground, waiting until Bren’s grunts and grumbles came closer before she finished moving through the tunnel.

  “You could have told him that to start,” Ayn said as she stepped back onto snowy ground.

  Kayara shrugged. “And miss out on the fun? Nah. He’s fine. If you could have seen him, you’d agree the sight was worth the struggle.”

  Ayn doubted it, but she didn’t bother arguing with the ranger. The guys were well on their way to worming through the tunnel, and in a few more minutes, they’d all reunite on the other side.

  The tunnel had led them straight back to the creepy gray pillar of laughing human faces.

  “Wait,” Bren said, still breathing hard. “Didn’t we fall down when the avalanche hit? That tunnel is flat. How did we go back up?”

  Ayn shrugged. “The System decided we did, I guess.”

  “It can do that?”

  Kayara rolled her eyes. “Choir Boy, did you forget where we are? This world has rules when The System deigns it so.”

  “Yes, but I thought some rules were programmed in. Unchangeable.”

  “You thought wrong. We’re all at the mercy of the AI overlord. Fun, yeah?”

  Bren grimaced and stayed silent. Ayn understood his apprehension. In her first character’s life, she’d run the digital afterlife like a game, carefree and careless, thinking that nothing mattered, that eventually she’d learn the rules of the game well enough to do whatever she wanted. Even with the guilt of her first party’s death looming over her second character, she’d stuck to the idea. It helped ease the guilt. Then Miit broke the rules by forming a contract with her, and her life had continued devolving into a series of unfortunate events. She was no longer certain she wanted concrete rules. Either way, she was more and more certain her desires wouldn’t change a thing.

  They skirted around the creepy pillar once more. No new paths had appeared for them, which left the one to the north. Ayn stood at its opening and frowned. The narrow path ran a few body lengths before twisting to the left in a blind bend. A great place for an ambush. Or, more likely, a new trap to deal with.

  “You should get healed before we try this,” Kayara said. Clearly, she was worried as well. Considering all The System had thrown at them, it was more than warranted.

  Ayn shook her head. Her health was low, blood had seeped into and dried in the creases of her armor, and most of her ached. But she still had the Aegis. “We need to save heals for emergencies.”

  “And if our tank goes down, how do you think the healer is getting close enough to help?”

  “If I go down, I expect you to keep the mobs occupied until I get up again.”

  “Well, sure I will, but—”

  Ayn marched down the path.

  “Ayn!”

  She’d decided. Given her orders. She still felt about as suitable to be a leader as a kid was suitable to run a business, but if she kept changing her mind, how she felt would never change. She just hoped her decision was right.

  The System tested her resolve as soon as she rounded the bend.