[Crystal Two: Little Butterfly]

  Maya's Perspective

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  “So,” the bandit inquired softly, “what made you pick ‘Deo’?”

  Her voice was surprisingly delicate for a soldier. She had curly, frizzy blonde hair, and her face was weary, even though she was young. Maybe two or three years older than me. I was honestly surprised the Syndicate even allowed female members.

  “How did you…?” I spluttered, foolishly dropping my already insubstantial cover.

  We were sitting just outside the wooden, spiked walls of the outpost; a rough, bare-bones installation in a small clearing in the forest. It was spacious, with more than enough weapons, supplies, and bedding for the twelve bandits; but it was an austere, almost dilapidated place. As promised, the leader provided bedding for me and an entire deer’s thigh for Cupcake, who gratefully accepted her gift and shortly drifted into the calm caress of Hypnos.

  As for me, I was exhausted. But I dared not sleep. How could I? Surrounded by Syndicate, surviving only because of their crippling fear of my brother, and playing a persona as fragile as it was improvised.

  “You’re the Tiger Fang’s sister, that much is obvious.” The bandit pulled a peculiarly shaped wooden instrument from her pocket. “But your name isn’t Deo,” she continued. “C’mon, you’re not fooling anybody. What is it?”

  I hadn’t noticed her when the leader had first come to apologize, but up close, she seemed oddly familiar.

  “What is… what?” I asked.

  She pulled a small pouch from her pocket, as well as a crimson rune.

  “Your name?” she laughed, packing some plant matter from the pouch into the wooden instrument. “It’s not a secret, is it? What name did your mother give you?”

  I hadn’t thought of my mother in a long time. Or my father, for that matter. I didn’t even remember what they looked like. Marcel had told me they were still in Cosmara, suffering whatever fate the Dream-Eaters decided for them. I had prayed for both of them that that fate had been death.

  “Maya…” I admitted quietly.

  “Aww,” she cooed, placing her crimson rune on the wooden instrument. “You have a baby name too?”

  “Too?” I asked.

  “My name is Lou. Well, Louella.”

  “Oh, that is—”

  She flicked the rune with her nail and—

  DOOON!

  With a flash of light, it ignited, emitting foul-smelling smoke.

  “What is that?” I demanded, pinching my nose.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she answered sarcastically, drinking the smoke from her wooden instrument. “This stuff is stronger than Thor—gods know I’m gatekeeping. I’ll give you a hint: it’s a northern plant.”

  “I don’t know what… any of that means,” I told her, becoming increasingly aware that I had never conversed with a proper Reminiscent before today.

  “Baby name and baby lungs?” she said, taking another drag.

  “Are you, like, speaking in code or something?”

  She laughed again, hysterically this time.

  “Maya, you are too cute,” she wheezed, calming down.

  “Má ?e ?eré p??lú mi, j??,” I said. Stop playing with me.

  Now look who’s confused.

  “…What?”

  “Exactly. Let’s stick to Common, please.”

  “Whatever,” she rolled her eyes and drank more from her instrument.

  “What is that thing?”

  “I already told—oh. You don’t know what a pipe is?”

  “Like the musical kind, or…?”

  More laughter. I considered myself to be civilized, but Louella made me feel like a real country bumpkin.

  “I don’t think I’m playing music, Maya,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I think this is called ‘smoking,’ actually.”

  “Same difference.”

  “I mean, if you say so. They both lull you to sleep…” She took another pull. “Anyway, you never answered my question. Where does ‘Deo’ come from?”

  “I made it up on the spot,” I admitted.

  “Oh?”

  “I’m not exactly, uh… imposing. And I thought you were going to stab me, so I—”

  “I see exactly where you’re coming from,” she interrupted, locking eyes with me. “We all do what we have to…”

  I jumped when I heard those words it wasn’t her voice who said them. At least, not the one she’d been using. It was gravelly and masculine—

  “You shot Cupcake?”

  “I tranquilized Cupcake. I saw you and her crashing through the woods, and, like I said before, the pact is clear about Snowcrestian deserters. Didn’t know you were Syndicate. Sorry.”

  “I’m… not.”

  “…But aren’t you related to Tiger Fang?”

  “I didn’t even know he was Syndicate before today.”

  “Really?” She added more of those foul leaves to her pipe. “Well, I’m not sure if you noticed, but everyone’s terrified of him. Even the brass.”

  “I knew—well, at least he told me his ‘adventures’ could be violent at times. It’s how he justified coming home with cuts and bruises. But he always came home. In the village, he’s revered as a hero, not feared. I mean, he’s always been distant. But also gentle.”

  DOOON!

  More smoke. It was starting to give me a headache.

  “Well, ain’t that something?” she said. “If you heard the stories, you wouldn’t think he could be gentle. He’s strong as an ox by himself—and trust me, that’s barely an exaggeration. Add runemagic to the mix… I don’t know what he’s experienced, but those runes make even the toughest berserkers into sniveling wrecks.”

  That would be the Despair rune, I thought.

  “You’ve seen him fight?”

  “I’ve seen the aftermath. The Syndicate sends the big cats: Ibex, Tiger Fang, what-have-you, as champions for minor factions all over Reminisce. Then, after their territory dispute or whatever is settled, grunts like me get sent in to pick at the remains like vultures. Swords, spears—hey, why are you making that face?”

  I hadn’t noticed my face contorting into a scowl.

  “Oh, uh…” I spluttered, relaxing my expression. “Nothing. Continue.”

  “Okay…” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’ve personally run more of those cleanups than I’ve had hot dinners. For most champions, it’s pretty same-y—but the Tiger Fang…” She shuddered. “Men, battle-hardened soldiers curled up in the fetal position, weeping like babies. Limbs missing. Not dismembered just… gone.”

  “…Gone?”

  I knew the Syndicate was violent. I knew Marcel could be violent—but dismemberment to that extent?

  “Gone,” she nodded. “As if they were—you’re making that face again.”

  “What face?” I asked, schooling my expression once more.

  “You know, you can just say if you’re uncomfortable.”

  “It’s… bittersweet? That’s not the word. How do you describe the feeling of being uncomfortable, but still wanting to know more?”

  “Dissonant?” she offered. “We can talk about something else if you want. It’s not like I have any more information about the guy. Don’t know him, don’t talk to him. Not that he talks to anyone, anyway.”

  “It’s fine, I guess,” I lied.

  In truth, her words only served to unravel my world further. How was I to face my brother in Mnemosyne, knowing he had committed such irredeemable atrocities? He wasn’t a man any more than he was a terror.

  “You’re a terrible liar,” she observed, drinking more smoke, “but you’re kind of cool when you’re not pretending to be a goddess.”

  “And you’re cool when you’re not shooting at my pet.”

  “It was a nice shot!”

  “Cupcake is the size of a grizzly bear, how could you call yourself a marksman if you missed?”

  “It was snowing! And you were moving! And it was windy! I’m like Apollo wait, which one has the bow?”

  “You’re right, it’s Apollo. But that was a very Artemis-esque shot.”

  “Speaking of hunting,” she changed the subject, “I’ve always wondered: how does Snowcrest even sustain itself?”

  “We farm and hunt game,” I answered plainly. “Pretty simple.”

  “Snowcrest Mountain is the most… what’s the word… inhospitable host for life I’ve ever seen, second only to maybe the Arctic North. How does anything even grow there?”

  “Runemagic? Duh?”

  “That was probably a stupid question. Northstar just imports supplies. Not like there are any farmers here to begin with. But if y’all are so self-contained, why leave?”

  I knew it was only a matter of time before she asked. To be honest, it felt too soon to vent to this stranger about my problems. Part of me was still on edge, still vehemently rejecting the Syndicate—but she seemed genuine. There was a sort of… safety around her. She talked to me, not around or through me; a stark contrast to life in Snowcrest. She was direct and irreverent, almost like Valorie.

  “I, uh—” I started, only to be interrupted.

  “Oh, I know that look. Allow me to ask a different question where are you headed?”

  Her ability to read my facial expressions was… uncanny.

  “Mnemosyne,” I said.

  “…Are you sure?” Her expression became dangerously serious.

  “I’m supposed to meet my brother.”

  “Maya… you don’t want to go there. They’re a little too fond of ‘Wanderers.’ If you’re running from something, I would run all the way to Echo.”

  “‘Too much fondness’ versus being invisible?” I reasoned. “Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

  But then I remembered Marcel’s crystal. I wouldn’t dare expose her to such danger, he had thought. Mnemosyne is as grand as it is perilous.

  Perilous for me specifically? For Cosmarans? In general? A combination?

  “Of course it wouldn’t,” Louella pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Apparently, my reasoning was na?ve. “Listen, there’s a reason the Syndicate prefers to operate from the shadows. Reminisce is chaos. Mnemosyne is chaos. Permanent power vacuum on all levels of society: all the different ‘crats vying for influence, and all the kingpins vying for power. That’s just the natural state of cities that size.”

  “You’re afraid I’ll be caught in the crossfire?”

  “Not afraid as in, ‘concerned that—’ I know you’ll be caught in the crossfire. You’ll be the target.”

  ***

  Woof! Cupcake said the next morning, presenting her half-razed, half-charred deer thigh. What it had done to deserve an electric shock, I wasn’t sure—but Cupcake was clearly having the time of her life parading it around.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I greeted, collecting my meager belongings from the tent the Syndicate had provided me.

  Lou had cast a vimtree leaf rune on me, so despite not sleeping at all, I still felt rested and energized. It was bright outside, and contrary to Marcel’s paranoia—and to the very nature of the Syndicate—the bandits were genuinely hospitable to me and Cupcake. Plenty of rations for my journey, and new clothes. Though they didn’t look like they’d fit.

  “Ms. Deo,” I heard the leader’s voice call from behind me. “Leaving already?”

  This was only the second time I’d interacted with him, but I had already learned two things: firstly, he wasn’t merely the leader, he was the commander of this base. Secondly, I was sick of the formalities. The man was at least twice my age and was calling me “Miss.”

  “Yes,” I replied as goddess-y as I could muster, straightening my posture, “and Lou will be accompanying me. I don’t suppose that will be an issue?”

  I had also learned the previous night that none of the other bandits actually knew Louella was female, and that she went by the unisex nickname “Lou,” which the others had assumed was short for “Louis.”

  “Ah, thank you for alerting me.” The commander bowed. His tightened jaw told me he wouldn’t exactly prefer to have one of his men depart to gods-know-where for gods-know-how-long, but I respected how well he veiled it. “I’ll grant him professional leave ASAP,” he added, before quickly walking off.

  As if summoned, Louella casually strolled by, just as I finished organizing my belongings and hooking Cupcake’s saddle.

  “You get ready quick,” she remarked.

  “I own, like, four things.”

  “You’re not gonna bathe?”

  “In front of a bunch of sweaty men who’ve been isolated for weeks, maybe months?” I said, meeting her outside. “No, thank you.”

  “Well, I know a spot. Ice cold water, but it works.”

  “I would prefer not to die of hypothermia before we get to Mnemosyne, thank you.”

  Cupcake made a yawning, grunting noise and nosed my shoulder.

  “We’re leaving real soon, girl,” I patted her head, receiving a few slight static shocks.

  “You can understand her?”

  “I mean, as much as a mother can understand her baby. I can’t translate her barks into Common, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m convinced she can understand every word we’re saying, though.”

  Woof! Cupcake confirmed, retrieving her deer leg from the ground.

  “And you just let her shock you?”

  “Well…” I started, “one time, when I was much younger, I startled her and she shocked me real bad.”

  I flicked my wrist, dropping my runeblade into my hand. I had grown fond of keeping it in my sleeve.

  “That’s where this comes from. And where these come from.”

  I rolled up my sleeves to reveal the darkened, fernlike scars that wrapped from my fingertips to my elbows.

  “I don’t really feel Cupcake’s shocks anymore.”

  “I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Lou winced. “I’ve shocked myself on a doorknob, and that’s the extent of my, uh… expertise.”

  “I think Cupcake’s fur is a similar concept,” I explained, rolling my sleeve back down. “I’m pretty sure, at least. She ‘charges’ anytime she moves; breathing, eating. Everything.”

  “So back in the forest, when she shook her fur…”

  “Yeah. If she so much as touched you, you were toast.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Well, that’s existential,” she breathed.

  “You’ll be alright,” I said, patting her shoulder before bestriding Cupcake and starting toward the exit of the outpost, Lou in tow.

  “Wait you’re walking?”

  “No, I’m swimming,” she rolled her eyes.

  “Don’t you have, uh…” I drew a blank. “I forgot the Common word for it. That one animal, the one that neighs.”

  “A horse?” she offered.

  “Yeah. That.”

  “Sweetie—” Lou burst into hysterical laughter.

  “Oh, give me a break,” I said, rubbing my face and poorly concealing a smile of my own. “It’s not like I’ve seen one.”

  “Yeah, that’s by design,” she explained between wheezes. “‘The ones that neigh’ tend to get stressed out around here. Better to just manpower it.”

  It took her a minute, but she finally calmed down.

  “Well, if you’re walking, I’m walking,” I said, dismounting Cupcake.

  “Aww, that’s sweet of you.”

  ***

  “You never told me why you let the bandits think you’re a man,” I inquired after a few hours of travel.

  “I’m seeking promotion,” she said flatly.

  “Oh I just assumed the Syndicate didn’t allow women, so you disguised yourself. Made sense to me.”

  “You think the Syndicate cares about that stuff?” she scoffed. “You could be a Nemonik and they’d probably hire you, so long as you increase their profits.”

  I supposed her words made sense. The Syndicate probably didn’t care who did the job, so long as someone got it done.

  “So the Syndicate doesn’t care, but you still hide your identity?”

  “I joined the Syndicate because they promised me safety and adventure. Way better than being a street kid in Mnemosyne—and technically, they delivered. Back then, and this was years ago, I was only concerned with typical vent-rat things: getting my next meal, et cetera. But safety is the nesting ground for ambition. I want to do more. To be more.”

  There was a hint of hopeful longing in her voice that reminded me of… myself. She, too, had been invisible.

  I considered this for a moment. It seemed to me that the Syndicate wasn’t an entity that evil people joined. It was one the desperate were indoctrinated into.

  They promised me… power, Marcel had said.

  The Syndicate seemed to find the vulnerable and insecure and promise them a remedy. If all the bandits and assassins and sellswords had been made similar promises to Marcel and Lou, then maybe they weren’t as malevolent as I had been taught. They were survivors.

  What, then, was Snow Leopard promised?

  Cupcake yawned.

  “If you joined when you were a ‘street kid,’ how wouldn’t they already know you’re a girl?” I asked, on Cupcake’s behalf.

  “When they found me, I hadn’t yet, uh… filled in. Covered in grime, real short hair. Male enough to them, I guess. I tried correcting them at first, but after a couple of months of hot meals… you can fill in the rest. Some people know—well, at least, knew—I am female. But old age is a rare privilege in the Syndicate, and not one they got to enjoy.”

  She exhaled.

  “Now, if I can keep up my little charade, prove I can disguise myself even to the elite eyes of the Syndicate, maybe they’ll use my talent elsewhere. Espionage, and the like.”

  “So you want to be a spy?”

  “I want people to look at me and know that I matter.”

  ***

  We walked for a few more hours until an almost painful flare of déjà vu struck me. We had reached the part of the Forest I had seen in Marcel’s memory.

  “Next outpost must be close,” I remarked. “And the road.”

  “How would you know that?” Louella sounded genuinely surprised.

  “I’ve seen a memory crystal about this place,” I told her, seeing no reason to lie. “I know there are other bandits nearby, and that the road is a couple of hours from here.”

  She stopped abruptly.

  “Maya,” she started softly, a sympathetic, concerned expression creeping across her face. “Is everything okay? Are you well?”

  “Of course,” I assured her. “Why?”

  “Everyone heard you talking to yourself and shouting in the Forest last night. We all thought you were crazy or unstable like your brother. That’s part of why the rest of the guys were scared of you. But now you’re telling me memory crystals are involved? There’s no world where that bodes well for you.”

  “I don’t follow,” I said sheepishly.

  Admittedly, I was embarrassed that others had seen my outburst toward ‘ghost-Marcel,’ as I had begun to call him. He hadn’t made an appearance since that night, so I had dismissed his presence as nothing more than a byproduct of delirium.

  But maybe Lou knew something I didn’t.

  “I’m not sure I do either,” she muttered as we began walking again, lost in thought and absently gnawing on a piece of jerky.

  The outpost had provided a reasonable amount of rations and water… for a single person. With the three of us sharing, we were already running low. Especially since Cupcake was the only one who had had even a semblance of a full meal since yesterday.

  Finally, Lou broke the silence.

  “I’m glad I got to meet you.”

  Her words were grim, spiking my anxiety.

  “You’re talking like you’re expecting me to die tomorrow or something.”

  “Because I am,” she shot me a sharp look. “If I’m right, you shouldn’t even be breathing right now.”

  “Is that a threat?” I tried not to sound indignant, but she was talking loosely about my life.

  She didn’t answer right away.

  “To you, yes,” she decided. “From me? No.”

  “And the proverbial bush remains unscathed. What are you talking about?”

  “Forced extraction.”

  My stomach jumped. This time, I stopped.

  “H-how did you know?”

  “I’m… familiar with them,” she said wistfully, shaking her head. “It’s like rabies. Symptoms show, death is certain.”

  “Then why do I feel fine?”

  “That’s where I’m confused, too. But I’m no doctor.”

  She started walking again. I followed.

  “You’re choosing now to be dismissive?” I furrowed my brows in indignation.

  “Hey, now, no need to be aggressive,” she raised her hands. “I know I might seem like a wellspring of knowledge, but that’s an assumption based on your incredibly limited, mind you, Snowcrestian perspective. I don’t know everything, Maya.”

  “I—” I started, failing to temper my irritation. “Listen… I’m so used to being able to rely on others, I didn’t think I could even handle being on my own. But now I have to. And my brother… he’s so hyper-independent it makes me sick. He’s always telling me how I need to do things by myself, that I should only rely on myself, but I know that’s not true.”

  I swallowed.

  “But now… I hear him. Sometimes, I see him. He wanted me to kill you, you know. When you were kneeling. Part of me agreed. His voice wants me to commit atrocities in the name of survival, just like he does. Refusing worked out okay this time, but what if I genuinely can’t bring myself to… survive?”

  “That’s… heavy,” Lou said quietly. “I can see where both of you are coming from. But these are things that should be reconciled between two people, not between a girl and herself. And again, I don’t know much, but I do know you’re a special case. When victims start hallucinating like you… let’s just say their visions aren’t trying to keep them alive.”

  “Then why am I—”

  In the foliage, Marcel interrupted, as if summoned. They see you.

  “You can come out now,” I called, much to Lou’s bewilderment.

  Silence.

  I turned to Cupcake. “I think someone’s watching us,” I told her. “You can find them, can’t you, girl?”

  She made a grunting noise and began sleuthing through the bushes and foliage.

  “Watching us?” Louella asked. “Who?”

  “‘Amateurs,’” I explained. “That’s what Mar—I mean, Tiger Fang called them in the memory crystal, at least.”

  Why did I just protect him? I wondered.

  Woof! Cupcake said happily, licking her lips in front of a nearby bush. It rustled abruptly.

  “Spare me!” the bush shrilled. “Mercy!”

  A man cascaded out from the brush and immediately began groveling at our feet. He wore similar clothes to the other bandits; donning Syndicate insignia, of course, and carried the same weapons as Lou: a bow and a sword.

  Once again, watching this man shiver from fear in front of me… it was indescribably satisfying. Almost comforting.

  And this time, the feeling was much more intense, much harder to ignore. Because this time, it really was just… me.

  “Forgive my eavesdropping,” the bandit cried. “I froze when I heard about you and the Tiger Fang! Forgive me, Ms. Maya!”

  Dammit. Still shackled.

  “Do not speak.” I crouched to his level and kept my voice low and assertive. “It’s fortunate I found you here. I have a task for you. You are to return to your outpost and tell your commander that I will be arriving soon. And from now on, you are to refer to me by my emblem, Deo. Do you understand?”

  The bandit said nothing, but looked up and nodded profusely.

  “Good,” I smiled warmly. “Run along now.”

  The bandit scurried off into the forest—

  “Hey, he looks like you!” I teased.

  Louella was not having it.

  “I didn’t even know Vek would be there and I work with him,” she said, beyond incredulous. “You experienced a forced extraction and it made you clairvoyant!? You’ve had precognition this whole time!?”

  “What? No, I—”

  “We have so much gambling to do,” she began cackling, like an incalculable fortune had just been bestowed upon her.

  I debated whether or not to clarify, or just let her have her moment.

  “C’mon,” I told her. “No one has precognition. We’re runemages, not witches.”

  “Buzzkill!” She threw her head back in disappointment.

  “I literally told you how I knew he was nearby; and we never would’ve found him if Cupcake didn’t sniff him out.”

  Woof! she agreed.

  Louella seemed to accept that, and we began walking again. But I hadn’t been totally honest with her. Sure, I remembered this part of the Forest from the memory crystal, that part was true, but I never would have thought about the bandits again had ghost-Marcel not spoken up.

  I was honestly just embarrassed to tell her. What would I even say?

  And as for my persona… I slipped on Deo’s mask almost too easily. This time, I didn’t even have to use threats to impose… her authority.

  It felt… unnatural. Like it wasn’t mine.

  Deo was just a name. She had no power at least, none she had earned. She wasn’t even real!

  Why, then, did I feel almost… jealous of her? Of who she was, or what she represented?

  “You might’ve screwed up, by the way,” Lou said suddenly. “Syndicate emblem-holders are usually named after animals. Not an existential issue, but you’re gonna need a real good excuse.”

  “We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it,” I dismissed. “We have time, right?”

  “I suppose. Vek has to make it back to the outpost, and the outpost has to prepare for…” She trailed off. “What are they preparing?”

  “Water and rations, hopefully,” I said, realizing I had never actually specified what I wanted from him. “I’m something of an opportunist.”

  I hesitated.

  “Do you want to see the memory crystal?”

  I blurted that last part and regretted it immediately. Lou was a good friend—

  So far, Marcel interjected smugly.

  But the fact was, I’d only known her for a day. I didn’t know if I’d even show the crystal to Val, given the chance.

  “Tiger Fang’s memory crystal?” Lou raised her eyebrows higher than I thought naturally possible. “An emblem-holder’s memory crystal? That would be the Syndicate equivalent of a holy relic. And you’re offering it to me?”

  I wasn’t, Lou. But now it was too awkward to say no.

  “Why not,” I shrugged.

  Because it’s the most intimate inner thoughts of my older brother, I thought. To whom this is a stranger.

  Nevertheless, I beckoned Cupcake and retrieved the green crystal from her saddlebag.

  “Why is it so… heavy?” she asked when I handed it to her.

  “Heavy?” I was confused. Marcel’s crystals had always been roughly the same weight. To me, at least. No one back home had noticed any difference, either.

  “Yeah, it’s like…” she hesitated. “I don’t know, but mine aren’t nearly this heavy.”

  “It’s light enough to me,” I shrugged. “Are you going to view it or not?”

  “I better not see anything gross,” she said, sitting down against a tree.

  Leaning against something sturdy was pretty much mandatory for crystal viewing, because—

  DOOON!

  Lou placed the point of the crystal against her forehead, flicked it with her nail, and slumped against the tree—totally unconscious as she ‘dreamed’ the contents of Marcel’s crystal.

  The crystal glowed a bright green, supernaturally floating in front of her face as if suspended by marionette strings. She could be asleep for an eternity or for an instant; either way, we were staying put.

  Cupcake rolled over onto her back.

  Shortly after Lou began dream-walking, I started wondering how she was able to cast runes and activate crystals with just her finger. An instant turned to a moment, a moment turned to an eternity, and all the while my curiosity grew.

  I thought it would be creepy to start inspecting her hands while she was unconscious, so I decided I would just ask her when she woke up. But gods, she was taking forever. If this was how long I took, then no wonder Cupcake ate my rations.

  “Ugh…” Lou groaned listlessly, her tear-streaked eyes fluttering open as the crystal lost its glow and dropped from its bind into her lap.

  I expected something sarcastic or snarky, but to my concern, she remained silent.

  She held her finger above the crystal, and it eased into a stable levitation, almost as if attracted by runeiron. She outstretched her arm, offering the crystal back to me.

  I noticed a silver-white glimmer on her fingertips: Runeiron faux nails.

  Well, that answered one question. Now I had another.

  “Um…” I started bashfully, taking the crystal from her. “What do you think?”

  She closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

  “Maya,” she said, locking eyes with me, “your brother loves you more than I’ve seen anyone love anything.”

  I felt blood rush to my cheeks.

  “Uhm… thank you?”

  “Let’s walk,” she invited, hoisting herself up and wiping her eyes.

  Cupcake and I followed her, but her gait was noticeably slower.

  After a few minutes, she spoke again.

  “You know, it’s so easy to make demons out of men.”

  “Demons?”

  “Tiger Fang. His name inspires fear and terror. It’s associated with bloodshed, with destruction. It’s too easy to forget that he’s still a man. No one becomes such a monster such a crusader without someone, or something, pushing them there.”

  She hesitated.

  “Grief.

  “Revenge.

  Then softly, “…Love.

  “That’s all there is for him.”

  ***

  “You said Deo was affiliated with the Tiger’s Fang,” the commander seethed at Vek.

  The three of us had arrived at the second outpost, a similarly barren installment to the first, only to be greeted by the commander’s incandescent fury directed at Vek.

  “I—” Vek spluttered, struggling and failing to come up with an excuse.

  “She’s clearly related to him, you egg!” the commander exploded. Cupcake tilted her head at the insult. “How… how could you have made that mistake!?” The commander continued, struggling to rein in his apoplexy. I couldn’t blame him; he probably thought Vek had just killed everyone in his carelessness.

  “Commander,” I assured him, “Calm yourself. I’m much more… merciful than my brother.”

  You shouldn’t be, Marcel griped.

  Both the commander and Vek visibly relaxed, but I prayed they hadn’t noticed my clenched jaw.

  “My deepest gratitude, Ms. Deo,” the commander bowed respectfully. “I assure you, Vek will be pun—”

  “Did I ask you to punish him?” I snapped, letting a little bite into my tone. “I came here to restock, not to witness a humiliation ritual.”

  “M-my apologies. The Syndicate honors its own, of course. The outpost is yours.”

  “Hmph.”

  The commander and Vek led us to their stockpile, towards the center of the outpost.

  “Take what you need,” the commander bowed again. A disapproving scowl crept across my face as I laid eyes on their stock. Unlike the previous outpost’s organized rations, this heap was miscellaneous and blood-splattered.

  Just close enough to the main road to rob and kill innocent Reminiscent merchants… this, then, must have been their bounty.

  “Is it not to your liking?” a hint of insecurity tinged the commander’s voice.

  It had better be, Marcel warned. Unless you intend to starve.

  Unfortunately, he had a point. I didn’t know how far Mnemosyne was from here, and it would be unwise to gamble solely on morality.

  “Is that bread?” Lou blurted with her deepened voice, reaching for a small roll. “Not hardtack? I haven’t had soft bread in forever!”

  The commander, probably seeing Lou’s outburst as insubordination, froze. Lou either didn’t notice or didn’t care; she ravenously reduced the roll to crumbs.

  “I have… paperwork,” the commander stuttered, clearly trying to lower his heart rate. With a bow, he scampered off.

  “Why is he so wired?” I asked Vek, swallowing my disgust and packing the rations into my bag. I tried to wipe off as much blood as possible.

  As if that would clear your conscience, Marcel taunted. When was he going to shut up?

  “This outpost has to maintain the ‘terror’ of the Forest while staying hidden,” Vek explained. “Very stressful job; none of us get to relax. Also, he might be addicted to vimtree.”

  “We’re rotating soon, though, no?” Lou asked.

  “Hopefully. You guys have it so easy. You barely even have to work!”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Lou glanced at me.

  “Please,” Vek rolled his eyes. “Your job is to keep people in, who don’t even want to leave.”

  “I bleed for this job more than all you guys combined,” Lou shot back. “Your job is to keep people out, who don’t even want to enter. Maybe y’all are finally doing it.”

  “Whatever. When this rotation hits, I’m gonna kick my feet up and relax, finally. What brings you to the outer outpost anyway?”

  “Just escorting Ms. Deo here. She’s heading to Mnemosyne.”

  I noticed Lou said she, not we. Vek glanced at me, eyes wandering—just for a split second.

  “You’re not following?” I asked her. I always knew our time together was limited, but I wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet.

  “‘Professional leave’ means I can leave the inner outpost,” she explained wistfully. “Not the Forest. Got two more rotations before I’m allowed out, and even then, it’s back to picking at battlefield scraps.”

  “I could escort her to Mnemosyne,” Vek grinned. “That’s home, after all.”

  I looked at Lou, unsure of what to do, but she smiled approvingly. Marcel was quiet, too but I was still apprehensive. Lou was ‘escorting’ me because she was my friend, not because I needed protection. Especially since Cupcake was with me.

  “I suppose you’ll do,” I decided, masking uncertainty. Vek nodded and scampered off, presumably to ask permission from the commander.

  “Here,” Lou said, popping a couple of her faux nails off her fingers and handing them to me. “Take these.”

  “You really aren’t coming?”

  “Unfortunately,” she sighed, helping me attach the nails. “The Syndicate is already bending the rules for you. Tiger Fang usually ignores the outposts when he passes through here; and obviously, he doesn’t need ‘escorts.’”

  I remained silent for a few moments, mourning our short time together. I wanted to somehow manifest a way to stay, or make her stay. But I’d lingered too long. Not just in the outposts, but the Forest itself. Traveling to Reminisce wasn’t just about surviving, or saving Marcel. It was about finally finding stability.

  My life had been uprooted twice in my seventeen summers every ‘home’ I had known had turned to paper in the face of fire. And this place would never have the foundation I needed. So it was time to move on.

  “Can I be honest?” I murmured.

  “Of course.”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “Well,” she breathed, “you certainly can’t—and shouldn’t—live here.”

  “I want you to come with me. Please.”

  “C’mon, that’s not Deo, is it?”

  “I don’t have anything out there…”

  “But you’re here, aren’t you? You’ve been through so much, but you’re still here.”

  “Come with me.”

  “In the interest of keeping my head attached to my shoulders, I can’t.”

  “But you said it yourself! I’m Deo. They’ll listen to me.”

  “If you blatantly break protocol like this, they’ll find you out real quick. Besides, this isn’t Snowcrest. You can come back to the Forest anytime you like if you’re sneaky enough. You’re acting like we’ll never see each other again.”

  “Oh…” I considered for a moment. I was probably going to cry if she hadn’t said that. “Well, okay. Then I will come back.”

  “Attagirl.”

  ***

  “What kind of relative are you?” Vek asked as we walked through the thicket. He was still sneaking glances at my breasts, so I didn’t want to dismount Cupcake and walk alongside him.

  “Sister,” I replied dryly. It wasn’t much different from Snowcrest; but I was uncomfortable there too. They’d always told me to just tolerate it—even Val said as much. Ghost-Marcel wasn’t telling me to gut him, so I supposed it was okay.

  “Sister?” Vek was amused. “He’s much older than you; from what I’ve seen, I would’ve thought you’d be his niece.”

  “Hm.”

  He led me by about twelve paces; we walked in silence for a few more minutes before Vek suddenly stopped in his tracks.

  “Come check this out,” he grinned.

  This one will show you p?p?, Marcel warned.

  “What is this jagbajantis?” I interrogated. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “Bear tracks,” he explained. “You’d think they’d all be in deep sleep by now.”

  “Cupcake will handle it if it becomes an issue.”

  “You sure? Bears ‘round here are vicious and cruel.”

  “I will not have you delay me.” I dismounted Cupcake and confidently stepped closer to him. We were eleven paces apart. “We’re going to Mnemosyne. Now.”

  “Mnemosyne, huh?” Vek’s expression flattened. He brandished his sword. “You think you can bold-face lie to me, to the commander, to the Syndicate? You ain’t no Tiger Fang relative.” His eyes roamed hungrily up and down my body. “You’re just a lost girl. And we both know what happens to lost girls in the forest…” His words trailed off. I regretted closing the distance.

  Keep the runeblade, Marcel said. Let him come closer.

  I dropped the thunderblade from my sleeve and into my hand, but kept it concealed behind my fingers. I heard Cupcake’s fur crackle with electricity.

  “Something must be wrong with your head,” I bluffed. “Unless you want to learn why they call me ‘Deo.’”

  He stalked forward, completely unfazed by my bravado or by Cupcake’s crackling fur.

  Ten paces.

  Nine.

  Cupcake snarled, still shaking her fur as if to expel water. Still generating lightning-pressure. Perhaps Vek didn’t understand how much danger he was in.

  Perhaps I didn’t either.

  Show him the blade, Marcel urged. Trust me.

  “Deo… that’s your emblem, right?” His nose scrunched in anger. “Last I checked, that isn’t an animal—that’s how I know you’re full of shit!”

  I said nothing, only brandishing the runeblade as ghost-Marcel instructed.

  “You’re gonna defend yourself against me… with that!?” Vek took bolder steps forward. “That butterknife ain’t touching me from there, little girl! That’s swordfighting one-oh-one!”

  Seven paces.

  Five.

  THROW! Marcel shrieked.

  I catapulted the knife at his chest. It turned once in the air and—

  KNK!

  The hilt struck his breastplate, and the knife bounced uselessly off his armor.

  I missed.

  And now I was going to die.

  For a split second, Vek looked genuinely amused. He must’ve seen the fear in my eyes.

  Then the blade hit the ground.

  DOOON!

  BZAAAAP!!

  Electricity spider-webbed through the snow and into his body. He froze, every muscle contracting as his grip on the sword tightened until his nails drew blood from his palm. His armor became a red-hot prison as his body seized in place.

  RARGH!! Cupcake roared, closing the distance in one bound. The moment she touched him—

  KKBZZAPPP!!

  In a flash of blinding light, Vek’s skin vaporized from his bones in a cloud of ash. The tendons in his jaw incinerated—it fell out of his skull, unhinging like a snake’s. The smell of burning flesh permeated the Forest as his body collapsed in on itself, reducing to a flaming heap of emulsified meat and scrap.

  He didn’t scream. It was as if Zeus himself had struck him.

  Good girl, Marcel cooed. Whether he was talking to me or Cupcake, I wasn’t sure.

  “I…” I began hyperventilating. “I… killed him… I killed him…”

  Would you prefer to have been raped? Marcel taunted.

  “Shut up!” I shrieked, clutching my head. Vek was a horrifying sight. Nothing human remained but a blob of bones and charred flesh. The only solid part left was his breastplate.

  ‘What could be more divine than deciding between life and death?’ Marcel continued. You went from playing a god to embodying one. How does that feel?

  “Why can’t you leave me alone?” I seethed. I looked up and there he was, casually leaning on a tree, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

  Comforting? Reassuring? Powerful?

  “No—!”

  Now another choice lies before you, he interrupted. Are you going to embrace strength, embrace power, and everything, everything that implies? Or are you going to shrink back into delicate Maya that needs to be saved?

  “I’m not delicate—”

  Because you’re a killer—ìy?n ni. Cupcake nosed my shoulder and whined. Poor girl must have thought I was going insane.

  I was.

  Technically speaking, Marcel reasoned, she was the one who sent him to meet the ferryman. Cling to that one until you’re ready to become… Deo.

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