Ingo hunched over the map while Gavan scrawled notes and peppered him with questions. He responded to them eagerly. He'd given himself licence to enter this world and now he wanted to absorb everything it could give him.

  "So, this path leads to that bend in the Scursrun? But it leaves from here... And you say it's only three hundred paces? Incredible... Incredible..."

  Hesio whittled a stick in the background with a pocket knife and listened absently. Cartography was Gavan's domain, it seemed. Around them, the camp pulsed with its usual quiet and purposeful activity. An energy, or readiness, seemed to be building among the disciplined troops. The air smelled thick with anticipation. Often Ingo saw soldiers walking to the edge of the pass and peering down, as though they knew their turn to enter the strange domain was coming.

  Ingo returned his attention to the map. "What are these numbers and letters?" he asked. Odd combinations with double horizontal lines between them were written in tiny script wherever Ingo had provided details about distances.

  "You've a bit to learn before this makes sense to you," Gavan replied with a soft smile. "We call it the reunion of parts. It's a method of calculating unknown values. The letters stand for the numbers I haven't uncovered yet."

  "What will they tell you when you know them?"

  "When I have enough of them collected, I hope I can work out how the land inside the forest folds around itself. How distances are stretched or shrunk and where the forces that pull them in different directions are coming from."

  Ingo ran these phrases through his mind and tried to find a way into them, a detail that allowed him to begin to understand. It felt like trying to scale a cliff with no footholds. Gavan looked up and added:

  "I don't know where that will take me, by the way. But that's learning. You learn as much as you can about as many things as you can as often as you can, and one day unexpected details connect. Who knows what this will show us in the future?"

  Ingo had that same sensation which came across him when Demetos first showed him the fire lighting tool. That great oceans of knowledge existed, within which he had only begun to paddle.

  Gavan frowned as his quill hovered over one area of the map.

  "What is it?" Ingo asked, noticing the pause and the sudden look of discomfort on the soldier's pallid face.

  "There are places that matter to them. Places that cause pain and places they desire. It makes it hard to think about sometimes. I need a break."

  Gavan moved away and lit the pipe that he relied on to dull the memory, or the pull, of the things he had seen in the moments after his bite. Ingo left him to it and traced with his fingertip where Gavan had been looking. He tried to link it to somewhere he knew. It was only a little north of the site of their village, which he had not yet shared with Gavan. He remembered his father saying something last winter about clearing a nest there.

  "Maybe some of them died there," he volunteered. Gavan sucked on his pipe and didn't reply. "My dad says they're always pushing further south. He thinks the gods use the oracle to send us into their path. To stop them from getting where they are trying to reach. We cut them off in winter and they do the same to us in summer. We're always fighting each other over the paths."

  Gavan sucked more smoke into his lungs. Hesio stopped working at the stick and spoke.

  "You said the sleepers are the only other creatures who can see these paths. Who saw them first? Who made them?"

  Ingo shuddered and looked around. This was a story that was always told in whispers, for fear of the anger it might provoke. They were outside of the forest though, high up on the slopes of the Lawbreakers Pass and safe from the reach of those monsters who shared his home.

  “The sleepers discovered the paths before us. We learned the ways from them."

  Hesio shuffled closer and Gavan put the pipe away.

  “You mean the sleepers can feel them out?" the big soldier asked. "They sense them, and your people followed them to learn the way? That must have taken some guts.”

  “No.” Ingo looked at Hesio. “We didn’t follow them and copy where they went. That wouldn't work anyway, because the paths sometimes change. They taught us to see them for ourselves." He lowered his voice even further. “We made a trade. At least, that's what the stories say.”

  Ingo expected scepticism, but Hesio leaned closer and nodded.

  “I knew it was something to do with them, ever since Gavan was bitten and I heard the things he said. What on earth are they, those creatures? Can they really speak?”

  “Don’t talk about it loudly,” Ingo hissed. “And never talk about it when you're traveling. It's bad luck. They were furious about the trade. Raska tricked them with a clever promise. They hate us Seveners because of it, even more than they hated humans already.”

  “I’ve only seen those things a few times, but I can’t imagine them talking, much less negotiating.”

  “The older ones can talk. The oldest of them all is Yu-" Ingo stopped himself short of saying the name. "The oldest of all is their queen, and she’s been alive since the time of Raska. She can change her face to resemble anything she's devoured, and she can speak with any of the forest's animals.”

  “Your Raska was around at the time of King Cadrafel," Hesio mused. "Wasn’t she his niece? That was a hundred years before the Sundered Republic. She's been alive since then? Really?”

  “They say that she prolongs her life by devouring her children. They say that every hundred years she gives birth to a child and sacrifices it to herself.”

  Hesio made no response. Ingo felt a morbid thrill at telling this story. This must be how Elder Mildred feels, he reflected, when she’s frightening the children just before their bedtimes. It’s better for him if he fears the forest. He should fear the forest.

  “So, tell me. What did Raska offer to the sleeper queen in exchange for the ability to see the paths?”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “When Raska and the Seveners arrived in the forest, some of them felt cheated by the king. They were hunted by these creatures who hungered after humans and could never be outrun. They could travel in ways that defied common sense. Raska managed to speak with their queen. She played to her vanity and jealousy of the gods. The sleeper queen wanted Raska to worship her. She promised to spare Seveners from being consumed if they served her by bringing others to her maws. Raska suggested an exchange instead. She said that she would share all the powers the gods had bestowed upon her in return for knowledge of the forest paths. She swore on the gods themselves that she'd uphold the promise.”

  “That sounds like a poor trade for the Seveners, and that's coming from an apostate like me.”

  "The sleeper queen thought so too. What would it matter to her if the Seveners could run and hide a little better, if she could control fire the way human priests did?"

  "What happened, then?"

  "She was fooled. We’re Seveners, aren't we? The gods don’t bestow any powers on us. That's the whole point of who we are. No priests wielding their chosen god's magic and no oaths to bind us to one or the other. We follow their teachings from before the divisions. Raska kept her word and the sleepers got nothing.”

  Hesio whistled quietly and chuckled.

  “Crafty lady.”

  Ingo thought about that crafty lady. She was the first of his ancestors, greater even than Tion. He thought about the history of the clans. For centuries, people had underestimated the Seveners. It was just as Demetos said. From the very beginning, they had survived where none thought it possible. In the forest, their earliest leader had tricked the most cunning of creatures for the secrets they needed to find their way and stay safe together. In the centuries since, they had traded blood for blood with the sleepers on an equal footing. A little hope stirred in his chest. They might get through this, one way or another. But perhaps it would take a little craftiness. Would Raska, who dared to cheat the sleeper queen herself, have balked at the friendship of apostates if it meant the survival of her people?

  "She was crafty," acknowledged Ingo, "but she didn't scheme for her own sake. She carried the future of our people on her shoulders. She kept our ways alive in the darkness of the forest, right up until today."

  Gavan sidled back over, having recovered enough to resume their discussion.

  "If you want to help us to help your people, there's one thing above all we need to know. One thing that will give us the advantage over Ilargia's faction." He pointed at the map. "Show me where that powder is. The stuff you call Terlos' Soap."

  Demetos stood atop the slope and looked down, then back at Tristor's new company as it prepared to depart.

  The battle-hardened captain fastened his armour and strapped and unstrapped the bags, checking everything three or more times. Despite himself, Demetos was moved to a little sympathy, even gratitude, to this man who was willing to return to that place after his last expedition. His hunger for glory overcame his fear. That was the lever to pull with Tristor.

  "Yours is the party that will return with the prize, Captain. You'll make Republican history with this. Are you clear about Gavan's map?"

  The green-eyed captain stood to attention.

  "Clear, General. But the alleged location of the powder is a place we've searched before. It's where we first found the boy and we didn't see any of the powder then. Are you sure about this?"

  "Gavan?" Demetos bounced the question to his cartographer, who had joined them to help prepare for the company's departure.

  "He insists they find it around the caves," Gavan replied. "They call it Terlos' Soap and value it highly, though they don't understand all of its uses. You may have to go inside the caves, too. I wonder if it's transported by those creatures they call hoarders? Prepare for combat, Captain. And be sure to cling to the foothills as you travel. If you take a shortcut through the forest, you'll run into sleepers between here and the caves. An area controlled by them cuts in between us."

  The captain nodded and counted out once more his most important supply. Demetos had gifted him the best part of their remaining cylinders.

  "We'll burn a path back through the woods if we need to. And we'll go deeper into those caves than the forest clans have ever dared. I won't let you down, General. I won't let the Republic down."

  Demetos faced him and spoke formally. It was the sort of thing the captain liked and the least he deserved.

  "Go with courage against all the gods, Captain, for the people of the Republic."

  "Against all gods," the captain replied.

  Demetos and Gavan watched them depart. The column of armed men had looked powerful and prepared at the top of the slope. By the time they reached the forest, they looked smaller and more vulnerable. A narrow red thread of hope that was quickly consumed in the darkness of the trees.

  "How many days do you give them, Gavan?"

  "It's close, now we know the way. If they don't send word back within five days, I'd worry for their lives."

  Demetos nodded. He was worried about more than that. He had everything riding on this now. For a man who lived his life with backup plans and contingencies for every setback, it did not sit well with him to gamble so much on a single roll of the dice, however high the odds were in his favour. But at some point, he had to take that leap. Now was the time – he knew it. He had the plans for Ilargia's weapon. She intended to keep his use of it on a short chain, or so she believed, through her monopoly on saltpetre. A little reverse engineering could make it work with this new powder and then... And then... One step at a time, Kostalyn. One step at a time.

  Gavan cleared his throat.

  "It's still hard for me, Advocate, to work on those maps. If I could put more distance between myself and that place..."

  Demetos pulled himself away from his thoughts and faced his pale student.

  "That's what I have in mind already, Gavan. You need to return to Dombarrow. You need to breathe the air of the capital. I have work for you at the Institute, and the city will remind you who you are. You're taking Ingo with you, too."

  "Do you think he's ready? He still says he's only helping us to save his clan."

  "His clan have abandoned him, Gavan. The Sullin tell me they have gone south and will try to break out of the forest there. It's a shame. Things are going to get bloody. I want him away from here. I want him away some place where discoveries and wonders will distract him. We'll make a true republican of the lad. An ambassador to his people from ours when the battles are done."

  "We still intend to get him home eventually?" Gavan muttered the question. "Back to his family. Hesio and I promised him..."

  Demetos waited before replying. Of all his students, Gavan was the closest he had to a confidant and protégé. He'd shared more of his plans with the prodigal scientist even than he had with Tristor. But the young man needed to be harder if he wanted to follow in his teacher's footsteps. The science of politics was learned in the guts and heart, not in the brains. There were lessons only experience would teach him.

  "He could leave now, if he wanted to, and take his chances crossing the forest alone. But he's too clever to risk that and I won't send him on his way with an escort. The destinies of nations are at stake, Gavan. What if we escort him back to them and he reveals that the Sullin are working with us? What do you think happens if I let the Seveners escape?"

  "They'll flee west and raise alarm at the Godsroof. King Brunulf, or his son Tancred, might respond before we have a chance to test the firearms and manufacture enough of them."

  "Exactly. We must contain this conflict until it has given us what we need. We'll add every mystery of this land, ripe with its dark knowledge, to our books. We'll tame every terror that frightens us here. We'll empty those mountains of the flaming powder, fire up the forges of the Institute and then, when we are more ready than we've ever been, we'll challenge them." Demetos pointed west. "The Godsroof. The very centre of the world, or so they say. The place from where the first apostates were banished will yield to us. Our Republic will become the centre of power, then. The centre of a new world: one forged by humans, for humans and not beholden to any of the gods. The Sundered Republic will stand at the beginning of a new era, Gavan, and you and I and Ingo, too, will all have been part of it. Make what promises you need to and keep them lightly, so long as you keep the most important of them all. Here," Demetos pushed Gavan's chest, "in your heart."

  The sickly soldier looked up and their eyes met. Demetos saw a hardness creep over them. Yes, he understands.

  "Against all gods," said Gavan.

  "Against them all, and all others who oppose us."