After managing to escape the initial horde of gnolls, the group traveled unimpeded for quite a while toward the west. They stopped only briefly to rest and eat, using whatever brush or trees they could for cover while Taer’inar sent Nyctea out to scout. They eventually came to the edge of a river that meandered toward the southwest. Just across the river, the vegetation dwindled, and the trees were twisted in unnatural shapes. The corruption from Zyr’kal reached this far, but it was not nearly as grotesque here as it was where Ithan and his friends had traveled before.

  “If we follow the river north, it will take us right to the Paswall Cave,” Taer’inar said as Nyctea flew down to rest on his arm. “Then we get through the cave, ascend the tallest mountain on the other side, and we’ll be at Meriterre.”

  “I do not like being this close to the corruption,” Irse said, “but at least we are on this side of it.”

  Ithan did indeed prefer this side of the river, as the plant life was beginning to flourish. The patches of vibrant green and flecks of color from various flowers were a striking contrast to the gray and brown of the sickly plants on the other side.

  It was only another mile or so before they approached a small outpost. There were only a few tents with a shoddy fencing around them, and only a dozen or so hobgoblins within. Near the entrance stood a lone hobgoblin woman wielding a spear. She held it up as she took notice of the group, taking a defensive stance.

  “Salutations!” Bimpnottin called. “Chief Advar sends his regards!”

  The hobgoblin relaxed at the sound of Advar’s name. She looked down at the gnome as the group drew near enough to speak without shouting.

  “The chief’s alive?” she asked.

  “Alive and well!” Bimpnottin replied. “He and a number of your compatriots have taken refuge in the fortress to the southeast.”

  “That’s good to hear. Not that I was worried, but we’d lost contact after the storm started, so… Anyway, you lot must be allies.”

  “Indeed!” Bimpnottin said. “Captain Bimpnottin Bafflestone and his minions, at your service!”

  “Call me Med,” she replied.

  “You don’t seem very well-prepared for the gnolls should they attack,” Taer’inar said, peering past Med into the camp. “How is it you’ve managed to maintain this outpost?”

  “The gnolls don’t come this way,” she said. “Think they’re scared of whatever’s in the cave just north of here.”

  “Are you certain Eleana gave you the right directions?” Irse asked Taer’inar.

  “It’s been centuries since the elves last journeyed into the mountains,” Taer’inar said. “I’m not surprised something else has taken residence in there in their absence.”

  “If even the gnolls fear what is inside—”

  “You worry too much,” Dhurik said. “Just gotta do what we do best—smash anything that gets in our way.”

  “Wait,” Med said. “You’re going to the cave? Are you crazy?”

  “We have business beyond the mountains,” Taer’inar said.

  “If you say so,” Med shrugged. “But no one who’s gone in there has ever come out. If you’re going to your death, you might as well rest the night.”

  “We’re going into a cave,” Taer’inar said. “And how can you even tell what time of day it is right now? The storm is making everything look like night all the time.”

  Med reached for a piece of string sticking out of her shirt and pulled at it, revealing a shining silver stone tied to it at the other end.

  “This thing glows at night,” she said. “Not just when it’s dark like it has been for the past week, only at night. It’s come in handy when we were exploring some old caves, and it’s especially handy now.”

  “May I?” Taer’inar asked, holding out his hand. Med narrowed her eyes, but ultimately placed the stone gently in his hand, and he started to inspect it closely. Ithan, too, peered over to see the stone was actually a clear crystal, and inside was some kind of flower petal that seemed to be the source of the dim light. “Fascinating. I’ve never seen moonglow encased in crystal like this before.”

  “Is that what it’s called?” Med asked. “Guess it makes sense.”

  “Does it grow around here?” Taer’inar asked as he returned the crystal to Med.

  “When it’s warmer, yeah,” Med replied. “This thing, though, I scrounged up from some remains a little closer to the cave.”

  “I see. Well at any rate, as I said, it won’t matter much since we’ll be heading into a cave,” Taer’inar said.

  “Actually, maybe we should rest,” Fenvyre said. “I’m pretty spent from running so much.”

  “We need to be in our best form if we are to face what lies ahead,” Irse added.

  “You guys are weak,” Dhurik grumbled.

  “Come on then, I’ll show you in,” Med said. The group followed her into the camp, passing by the other hobgoblins gathering in the center. One of them lit a torch and tossed it into a large pile of wood to start a bonfire. Med stopped in front of a smaller tent and opened the flap, ushering the group inside. Two others were already present: a halfling bundled in an oversized coat; and—to Ithan’s surprise and delight—an ignan with curiously pink skin and pitch black eyes.

  “Ian?! Apostalite?!” Fenvyre shouted.

  “Oh, well this is a pleasant surprise!” the ignan said, their voice almost like a whistle with its high pitch.

  “You—You’re alive?” Taer’inar said. His eyes looked like they might pop out of their sockets.

  “You’re tougher than you look.” Dhurik said as he looked Apostalite up and down.

  “Why, thank you!” Apostalite replied. “And where is the lovely Mor’lavan?”

  “He left—wait, how?” Taer’inar said.

  “Well I’m sure I don’t know how he left, I was only just told that he left in the first place!” the ignan sang. “Such a shame, I really was hoping to see him again.”

  “No, I mean, how are you alive? The tower was reduced to rubble after you abandoned us.”

  “Ah, that. Laht works in mysterious ways.” The ignan’s grin widened as their eyes moved to Ithan. “I see you have a new friend here. What is your name?”

  A pit formed in Ithan’s stomach. Had Apostalite forgotten him so easily? He remembered them—there was no mistaking them, of course, with their high-pitched voice and curiously pink skin. But more than that, they had told him several tales before they parted ways. He could not remember them all, but the story of the boy in the cave held firm in his mind.

  “I-it’s me,” Ithan said, his smile quickly fading.

  “You don’t remember Ithan?” Taer’inar asked.

  Apostalite furrowed their brow as they looked at Taer’inar, then back at Ithan. Then, after a moment, their eyes widened and they clapped a hand to their cheek.

  “My goodness,” they said. “I am so very sorry, my dear Ithan, I hardly recognized you! My, how you’ve grown!”

  Ithan smiled again as the ignan stepped forward and wrapped their arms around him. Of course they had not forgotten him. But had he really changed that much? He supposed it was possible—so many other things had happened in such a short amount of time, after all.

  “Hey, where’d you get that?!” the halfling shouted behind Apostalite. “It’s mine! Give it back!”

  Ithan craned his head back to where the halfling pointed. He seemed to be eyeing the bow Ithan had found in his former room that was now strapped to Irse’s back.

  “It belongs to Storm’s tribe,” Irse said. “Were you the one who stole it?”

  “What? No! Well, not exactly. But so what?”

  “He would never have come to Averion in the first place had you not stolen this from his people,” Irse said.

  Pressure began to build in Ithan’s head, working its way from the back toward the front. His heart began to pound in his chest. He shrunk back as the people around him continued to argue.

  “I—You—Ugh. Listen, I didn’t steal it from the blue guy’s tribe. I took it from Jonah… who probably stole it from the blue guy’s tribe.”

  “Jonah?” Irse said. “Is that one of your friends who you abandoned in the Lizard Marsh?”

  Ithan balled up his fists as his heart beat ever faster.

  “It’s not like that!” Ian shouted. “I tried to get them out, but all I could do was run before I got caught up in their insanity.”

  “Regardless, you knew Storm was looking for the bow,” Taer’inar said. “He’d still be alive if you had just returned it. And you knew we were going toward the Lizard Marsh. You could have warned us about that, too.”

  “Now, now,” Apostalite sang, placing a hand gently on Ithan’s shoulder. The pressure and anxiety dwelling within him suddenly dissipated, as if Apostalite had absorbed it all with their touch.

  “And you!” Taer’inar growled, turning to the ignan. “You—”

  The elf froze, his mouth still open slightly, as he saw Ithan. Ithan focused on his breathing—slowly, in and out—as his heartbeat slowed back to normal.

  “What matters is that we are all here together again,” Apostalite said.

  “I—”

  “Taer,” Fenvyre muttered as she wrapped an arm over Ithan’s shoulders. “Maybe we should talk about this later.”

  Taer’inar stood silent for a few more moments, glancing at the others in the tent, before retreating outside.

  “You can keep the bow, for what it’s worth,” Ian muttered.

  “How very generous of you,” Irse said. She turned to look at Ithan. “You know what I am going to say.”

  Ithan rolled his eyes and began removing his armor.

  “Eugh, that’s one nasty scar,” Ian said as Ithan removed his shirt.

  “Oh please, you can barely tell it’s there anymore,” Fenvyre said. “It was so much worse before Irse started working on it.”

  Now that he was lying here, Ithan was glad they decided to rest—his body was now heavy with the yearning for sleep. His friends’ faces blurred, and their voices receded. Even the sting of Irse’s medicine as she began her work could not prevent him from slipping away from consciousness.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Ithan finds himself in a dark cave, surrounded by pillars of bone. There are carvings in them that whisper to him in a language he does not know. A shadow emerges from the ground and takes the form of a blue-skinned elvenoid. An auran, Ithan realizes, as he observes the feathered ears.

  The auran slowly moves toward Ithan, holding out his hands as if Ithan is some wild animal that he is trying to approach. Before he can get close, though, another shadow strikes the auran. The auran stumbles backward, blood erupting from his chest. Ithan shields himself with his hands as the auran’s blood splatters over him.

  The blood is on his hands.

  Ithan awoke with a shout, jolting upright and frantically looking all around him. He was still in the tent with his friends, who were all now staring at him. His chest felt as though it was going to explode, and he was covered in sweat. He looked down at his hands—he could still see the blood.

  “I saw—it was—and he—”

  “Breathe, Ithan,” Fenvyre said as she sat down next to him. Ithan shut his eyes tight, trying to will the blood away from his mind. He inhaled deeply, then released a ragged exhale.

  “It was Storm,” he said as he opened his eyes again.

  “But you never met Storm,” Taer’inar said.

  “I know, but I know it was him,” Ithan said. “A blue-skinned auran, that’s who I saw. It was definitely Storm. And I watched him die.”

  “It was all that talk yesterday about it,” Fenvyre sighed. “It must have really gotten to you.”

  “I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Taer’inar said. “I’m sorry.”

  “It didn’t… feel like a dream…” Ithan said slowly, still staring at his hands. Fenvyre grasped them in her own.

  “It was,” she said. “It was all just a bad dream.”

  After quite a bit of comforting from Fenvyre, Ithan did a few quick stretches and dressed for the journey ahead. The two of them then joined their friends outside. There, Ithan spotted something moving against the dark clouds—a flying creature, speeding toward them from the east. Bimpnottin and Taer’inar each were attempting to dispatch it with blasts of magic, but the creature evaded their spells as it drew nearer to the outpost. Just as Ithan grasped the handle of his sword, though, the creature screeched and plummeted to the ground, crashing just outside of the outpost. It was a small demon, roughly the size of Nyctea. Its head was pierced through by an oddly short arrow.

  Standing a short distance away was a bird-like person, his black feathers slick and elegant like a raven’s. He stood about a foot shorter than Ithan, and his thin limbs ended in talons. He wore light leather armor over his tattered clothes, a wide-brimmed hat on his head, and a crossbow in his hand. Ithan expected the creature to have wings of some kind, but he doubted they could be hidden beneath his armor.

  “And you are?” Med asked as the person joined the group.

  “Name’s Pew-Pew,” he replied.

  “Excuse me?” Taer’inar said. Pew-Pew ticked his head as Taer’inar spoke.

  “Pew-Pew,” he said again.

  “Ah. That’s what I thought you said,” Taer’inar said. “Well then… Pew-Pew… How’d you manage to shoot down that demon?”

  “Good eyes,” Pew-Pew said.

  “What brings you here?” Fenvyre asked, her eyes aglow with wonder. Ithan had almost forgotten how much Fenvyre loved meeting new kinds of creatures, so long as they were not trying to kill her.

  “Hunting,” Pew-Pew replied. “Any of you seen a white strix? Looks like a dove.”

  “You’re the first strix I’ve seen in years,” Bimpnottin said. “You’re a rarity among animus.”

  “We have,” Med said. “He came here a few days ago.”

  “Where’d he go?” Pew-Pew asked.

  “South, along the river,” Med replied.

  “Did he say anything to you?”

  “Oh, he was an odd one. Wanted to preach to us about how the elves were punished for their sins.”

  “Sins…?” Taer’inar muttered.

  “Thank you kindly,” Pew-Pew said.

  “You’re hunting one of your own kind?” Ithan interrupted.

  “He killed my wife and child,” Pew-Pew snarled. Ithan’s breath stilled as the strix’s eyes grew fierce.

  “I… I’m sorry,” Ithan muttered. Ithan’s heart broke for the strix; somehow the pain of losing a loved one struck him hard. Did I lose someone…? He took a deep breath as his nightmare flashed in his mind again. Why does it feel so real…?

  “I truly am sorry for your loss,” Taer’inar said, “but revenge is not the answer.”

  “It’s more than that,” Pew-Pew said. “Preacher is a zealot of the old gods, preying on innocent lives to sacrifice for his cause.”

  “What cause would that be?” Irse asked.

  “I do not know,” Pew-Pew muttered. “But any cause that involves such bloodshed cannot be a good one.”

  “Say, Pew-Pew, was it?” Ian said. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

  “Don’t have time for you, small fry,” Pew-Pew replied as he started to walk away.

  “Just hear me out!” Ian said, walking along with the strix as he spoke. “You’re real good with that crossbow of yours, but I’ve got some friends that are sure to double—no, triple your firepower. All you gotta do, is protect me and my pink friend here on our way to said friends.”

  Pew-Pew stopped and craned his head down toward Ian.

  “Who are these friends?” he asked.

  “Only the most efficient killing machines in Averion,” Ian replied.

  “Ian!” Fenvyre cried.

  “Shh, Fen, you’re gonna make me lose my mark,” Ian said.

  “I’m right here,” Pew-Pew grumbled.

  “Yes, you are! So, how about it? You bring us to my friends’ place, and I get them to help you locate that Preacher guy.” Ian held up his hand. “Deal?”

  Pew-Pew glared down at the halfling. He blinked twice, tilted his head, and then took Ian’s hand.

  “Now, normally I work alone. But, your offer’s got me interested, so deal.”

  “Excellent!” Ian said. He gleamed at Apostalite. “See that? I just nabbed us a bodyguard.”

  “Don’t push it,” Pew-Pew said. He offered a look back at the group before he and his new traveling companions began to depart. “Take care of yourselves, now.”

  “Laht favor you,” Ithan replied. The strix tilted his head again but said nothing more. Apostalite smiled at Ithan’s prayer before joining Pew-Pew and Ian. It was not long before the three of them disappeared into the tall grass.

  “We should have asked them to join us,” Irse said to Taer’inar.

  “He’s an excellent marksman, but I doubt I would have been able to convince him,” Taer’inar said. “Or at least, it would have taken much more time than we have.”

  “Speaking of time, is it time to go yet?” Dhurik asked.

  “Yes, Dhurik,” Taer’inar sighed.

  “The cave’s just a little bit further north of here,” Med said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.”

  The group departed the outpost toward the north, still following along the river. They ran into other small demons along the way, but they were nothing compared to the hordes of gnolls, making for relatively easy travel. When at least they reached the mouth of the cave, Taer’inar halted the group so he could send Nyctea in to scout.

  “It seems like it’s a relatively straight tunnel,” he said, his eyes closed as he focused his vision through his owl. “But I can’t quite see the exit. There’s claw marks everywhere, but I don’t see what could have made them…”

  “Maybe they’re sleeping?” Fenvyre said.

  “It’s like Apostalite’s story,” Ithan said. Taer’inar whipped his head around to give Ithan a sour look. “Maybe we’ll be fine if we’re quiet.”

  “I suppose,” Taer’inar muttered.

  “You guys are always killing the mood,” Dhurik said. “What happened to smashing through whatever’s in our way?”

  “If it comes to that, you’re free to smash everything,” Taer’inar said. “But remember our goal here: bring Ithan to Meriterre as safely as possible.”

  With another huff, Dhurik strutted into the cave ahead of the group, and the rest quickly and quietly followed behind.

  The group proceeded through the cave as carefully as they could manage—Irse chose not to produce any light in case it attracted attention, and though most of them could see somewhat in the dark, they had to move slowly to avoid stumbling into each other. Dhurik was the least quiet among them, his hooves clacking against the stone ground.

  That would soon change as the group came across their next obstacle—Taer’inar had not mentioned this before they entered, but the ground deeper in the cave was covered in broken bones. It would be impossible for them to cross without making some kind of noise, whether it be the scraping of the bones and they moved them aside or the crunching as they stepped onto them. But, after exchanging glances and a brief attempt at communicating through body hand motions, the group resolved to continue forward. Ithan winced at each sound he made, and the slowness of his step only prolonged the sounds as they echoed off the cave walls.

  But for a while longer than Ithan anticipated, he and his friends were able to move through the cave relatively unimpeded. In fact, they managed to make it far enough to see a dim light further on. Taer’inar silently summoned Nyctea and ushered her forward, and when he opened his eyes and smiled, Ithan knew they were nearly out. But after another crunch of bone, the ground began to rumble around them.

  Something burst out from the ground ahead of them, causing pieces of rock and bone to fly out in different directions. Ithan managed to avoid one chunk of rock before it collided with his leg. A huge insect-like creature had burrowed out from the ground, blocking their way out. The monster had a blue scaly hide and leathery wings, though they seemed incapable of flight. It had too many legs to count—almost like a centipede—and horns all along its body. Its back glowed a fiery red, and its teeth were even more numerous than its legs.

  “I guess quiet time is over,” Dhurik grinned.

  As the minotaur dashed forward, Bimpnottin and Taer’inar both hurled fireballs at the monstrous creature. Both of them made contact with its wings, and Ithan grinned as he expected it to shriek in pain. His stomach turned, though, when it was evident that the creature had not been harmed at all by the dual explosions.

  “That’s not good!” Bimpnottin shouted as the monster lurched forward. It spotted Dhurik running toward it and attempted to catch him in its maw, but Dhurik leapt out of the way and drove his axe into the creature’s eye as it passed. Fire burst from where Dhurik made contact, as if it were the creature’s blood.

  Oh, it’s literally made of fire, Ithan thought as he positioned himself close to Fenvyre. Fenvyre herself tried to conjure some plant growth to impede the creature, but to no avail.

  Lightning then flashed through the cave at the monster as Irse held her staff aloft. Taer’inar dashed toward it and cut through one of its wings.

  “I have an idea!” Fenvyre said. “But I’ve never tried it before, so I don’t know if it’s going to work!”

  “Just do it!” Irse and Taer’inar shouted in unison.

  Ithan ran to join Taer’inar and Dhurik in attacking the monster from close range. He slashed at the creature, wincing at the flames it released. Something forced him to the ground as he tried to recover, and he grimaced as he thought the creature had caught him. But when he looked up, his heart stopped—it was Taer’inar that had been caught in the creature’s jaws. He had moved Ithan out of the way and took his place as the monster’s mark. The elf sputtered blood as he dropped his sword to the ground next to Ithan.

  “Taer!” Ithan shouted. He desperately reached his hand out toward his friend. The monster reared its head, and Ithan stared on in horror as it swallowed Taer’inar whole. His whole body was frozen in shock and fear as the monster now bore down on him.

  The monster’s maw did not reach him, though. It was intercepted by another monstrous creature that slammed into it with such force that it crashed against one of the walls of the cave. This new creature was a giant lizard, perhaps even larger than the monster that had just eaten Taer’inar. Its teeth were the size of swords. Its front limbs seemed too small for its body, but its hind legs were quite powerful to have driven the other monster into the wall like that.

  The lizard roared at the insect, a deafening sound that forced Ithan to cover his ears as it echoed through the cavern. It pounced on the insect, clamping down on its neck with its powerful jaw. Flames surged from the insect, but the lizard was undeterred. It slammed the insect against the wall again as it writhed in its attempts to escape the lizard’s jaws. Eventually, though, it succumbed to the lizard’s strength, its body going limp in its mouth. The lizard dropped the insect to the ground and roared once more, victorious.

  Ithan expected this new monster to turn to him and his friends next and devour them all. After all, if this creature that they could barely harm was slain by an even stronger creature, they stood no chance against it. But it was now that he noticed that none of his friends seemed the least bit concerned about how they would escape. In fact, they were all running toward it. He stood up, too bewildered to say anything, and watched as they hurriedly approached the two behemoths. Dhurik began carving into the dead creature’s body and pulled Taer’inar out from its gullet. Irse kneeled down and began administering healing magic on him. Bimpnottin stood by and inspected the dead creature. And Fenvyre—where was Fenvyre? She had been behind Ithan just before the creature got Taer’inar. Did the other monster…?

  Then the giant lizard’s body started to shimmer. Its form began to shrink, its colossal size dwindling down into a shape that Ithan knew very well. How had he not realized sooner that the giant lizard’s scales were the same brilliant emerald as his best friend’s?

  “That was different,” Fenvyre said as Ithan finally joined his friends. She looked down at Irse and Taer’inar. “Is he…?”

  “He is alive,” Irse said. The words brought Ithan to tears. He and Fenvyre hugged each other tightly as he sobbed with joy.

  “This stuff’ll make for some great armor,” Dhurik said. “Really great stuff here. Good job, guys.”

  “I’m glad you have your priorities in order,” Taer’inar groaned. Ithan wiped the tears from his eyes and smiled as he looked down at his friend, who was now sat up against the corpse of the monster that had just devoured him moments ago. Irse was still administering magic to him as he tried to clear off the acidic fluids from the monster’s insides.

  “I knew you were fine,” Dhurik scoffed. “Takes more than a giant bug to take down Birdbrain.”

  “I suppose so,” Taer’inar chuckled.

  “Plus Tree-Hugger brutally tore into it as soon as she saw you get eaten.”

  “She what…?”

  “Oh, it’s some magic I was reading about while we were back home,” Fenvyre said.

  “Transformation magic is a rare gift!” Bimpnottin said. “And of course, it is only natural that one of my own pupils possesses it! But what manner of creature was that? I have never seen such a fearsome lizard!”

  “The book called it a ‘tyrannosaurus,’” Fenvyre replied.

  “Fascinating!” Bimpnottin said.

  “It truly is impressive,” Taer’inar said. “You saved the day, Fenvyre. Thank you.”

  “Of course!” Fenvyre said with a smile.

  “Now, let’s go before another one of these things shows up,” the elf muttered. Ithan and Fenvyre helped him to his feet and started walking him toward the exit of the cave. Bimpnottin and Irse followed, and soon after he had finished collecting the scales off of the dead insect monster, Dhurik joined them. Together they reached the cave’s exit, and Ithan rejoiced as clear skies and the sun’s warmth greeted them.