When we come back to camp, the others are already packing up. Seeing Kiren awake sparks an unreasonable sense of fear within—I don’t want to look at him. Not after the liar's dice game.

  What will he think?

  That I’m some almost-would-be-traitor?

  That I’m an idiot who got seduced by the witch?

  It's strange how much I care about this. Someone else’s opinion. Back at the tower, I stopped caring about anyone else’s words—especially after what Kai did to me. From that moment on, I stopped trying to gain anyone else’s approval.

  Sorina changed that. But, not in the same way as Kiren.

  Kiren had given it to me without my asking. He had given me kindness and friendship in spite of my refusal.

  I don’t want to lose that, I realize.

  Saegor barks an order. Kiren looks at him. I walk over to Kiren and begin reaching out a hand to tap his shoulder.

  Zyla blocks my way and grabs my arm. Hard. She pulls me away into the brush, wordless and maintaining her usual severity. My fingers twiddle over the amulet bag.

  Did she see what happened between Saegor and I? Hear it? If so, I miscalculated. And this could all end here and now—

  “I wanted to apologize,” she says finally, turning back to me. Her eyes are downcast and her breath is unusually shaky. “About last night.”

  I stare at her, studying her expression. “Did… did Kiren put you up to this or something—”

  “No. No, that's not it, Raiten.” She sighs deeply, as if fighting back her own instinctual habit of berating me. “I didn’t understand you. To be honest, I don’t think I ever will. But, what they did to your mother… that’s—” she pauses again, clearing her throat now. “That’s not right. I can understand that much. And, even though you gave my brother a hard time, I can see why. Besides, you’ve been good to him ever since. You even saved him. So, in truth… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

  I don’t know what to tell her. In fact, I feel a bit stupid. If I had told her my motivations for revenge earlier, this whole trip might’ve been a lot easier—eh, don’t kid yourself. She only feels this way because it was forced from you in the game. Against your will. That’s why she feels bad.

  But is it? Or is she being genuine?

  Why not both?

  You should know by now, nothing is ever that simple.

  I give her a nod. “It’s alright. You couldn’t have known.” There’s a pause that lingers between us and I assume that’s her giving me a leave. Yet, as I walk away, she grabs my wrist again. Just as tightly.

  “Could you loosen your grip—”

  “There’s one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “Look, I know you aren’t going to betray us. But I also know how tempting she’s been. I’ve seen her in my own dreams, Raiten. Less than you lot, but she has—she’s shown me things I didn’t even know about myself. So I can’t imagine what Hells she’s put you put through. But you can’t give into her. You understand? If you want to avenge your mother, you can’t give in to that witch.”

  I want to laugh. She has no idea how many times I’ve dealt with this temptation.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t—”

  “Don’t take this lightly, Raiten. Say ‘I understand.’ Say—” she pauses, stepping back for a moment. Her eyes narrow on my chest.

  The hairs on my neck stand. “Did something happen?”

  Suddenly, Zyla’s eyes roll to the back of her head—like the times when she sees visions of the enemy. Shit. One of my hands reaches for the amulet sack and the other grabs for the whip, all while I start calling out to Saegor, but her eyes roll back before I can.

  “Where are they? Which direction?”

  She shakes her head. And points to my chest. “It's here.”

  There’s a rhythmic buzz of some bug in the trees. I twist away from Zyla and unfurl my whip.

  “I’m not your enemy Zyla. You said it yourself.”

  She starts walking towards me. Slowly.

  “Hold still Raiten.”

  Fuck. What did I do wrong? Did she actually see me and Saegor? Was this just a ruse? Or did I say something now that made her think—

  My stomach rumbles.

  My neck twitches and the veins pulse.

  Something claws at the back of my mouth. Something familiar.

  I wretch forward and keel onto my knees, onto my fours, stomach lurching. Snot drips down from my nose and tears from my eyes. My mouth drools open as something climbs up my throat and I gag it out, coughing and wheezing.

  Zyla calls out to someone. I can’t tell who. Then, she’s by my back, slapping it.

  “Let it out, Raiten. Let it out.”

  The thing latches onto my teeth. Its legs skitter across my tongue and along my gullet.

  Zyla forces my mouth open and pulls at the creature. It tries going back down, hundreds of legs floundering. But a mix of my vomiting saliva and her tugging now wrenches the monster out of my mouth.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  I get a good look at it before throwing up.

  I wish I hadn’t.

  The centipede is still quarter-formed, and yet, it remains the biggest damned bug I’ve seen of its kind. It squeals in Zyla’s grasp, and even now its mandibles click in my direction. As if yearning to pull itself into me once more.

  How. Is. It. Here?

  I swallowed the centipede in the dream. It should’ve remained. In the dream.

  And yet, it wriggles, writhes, and chitters here, in Zyla’s hands.

  I reach for the thing with my fingers. My palm begins to glow blue. Zyla stares at my hand, eyes widening. In doing so, she takes a step back and her fingers drop the centipede in shock. The insect scuttles towards me, gleeful and speedy.

  I need to destroy it.

  So I press my hand towards it and push.

  The blue light expels from my fingers and a wave of force blasts into the creature.

  It splatters against the ground in a sickening crunch, shell cracking, legs twitching up, piss-yellow ooze dripping from its carapace.

  I stare at my hand for a moment.

  Since when did I know—

  Darkness encloses my vision in the next moment. And the last thing I see is Zyla shouting for someone to help.

  …

  “I expelled it from your body, but the creature left something behind.

  I will have to find it while fighting her off in the night. There’s no doubt that she will attack us.

  But don’t worry, I’ve left something for you as well. I see you’ve already used the gift.

  Nurture it. It will help you.

  I wish you only the best in the battles to come.

  Stay alive Raiten. For both of us.”

  …

  My hand drags along the ground. My back rests on something hard. It bumps up like a carriage. But I recognize Umbrahorn’s hide.

  Groggily, I roll off of it.

  I thump to the cobbled path. Cobbled? Since when was there a path through this? That question doesn’t really matter much though—it can’t take away the stinging pain of that horde of rocks biting into my body.

  “Shit, he’s awake!” Umbrahorn yells.

  I stumble to a stand, but trip to my knees again. My legs feel so weak.

  A hand reaches out to me.

  I look up. Kiren smiles down at me.

  “You scared us, Raiten. We thought you were dead.”

  Hesitantly, I grab his hand and he pulls me up. I shake my head, rubbing the fatigue from my eyes.

  “What happened?”

  “You were out cold when Zyla called for us,” he says, nudging his head over to his sister. She walks toward us, away from Saegor at the head of our party. He watches me with a discerning expression. “Your breathing went so still. I couldn’t understand what was happening to you.”

  “I even tried healing you Raity,” Umbrahorn says. “Didn’t work.”

  “For the love of the spirits Umbrahorn, don’t call me Raity—”

  “I get to call you whatever I want! I carried you all this way.”

  All this way…“How long was I out?” I ask.

  “The whole day,” Zyla interjects, cutting between Umbrahorn and Kiren to face me. Again, she reaches a hand out and clamps it hard on my wrist, upturning it. Her thumbs press aggressively against the veins, as if searching for something. “How do you feel?”

  “Zyla, maybe you should give him a rest—”

  “This is important, Kiren. Go on Raiten. Tell us.”

  I’m still reeling from the fact that I’ve been out a whole day. And for what?

  Hypna.

  The centipede.

  Right. It's all coming back to me. I shake my head and a thumping pain riddles me. A migraine. The dream—its consequences have been rendered into reality.

  Maybe Saegor was right. My victories in the dream are paltry. In fact, it seems like whatever Thrae did to me has had much more of an effect.

  “Raiten, tell us,” Zyla repeats, breaking my trance.

  “I feel… tired. Really tired.”

  Umbrahorn scoffs. “I should be the one saying that—you’ve been sleeping all day.” Kiren gives the shark a look and the hammerhead shrugs back.

  Zyla lets go of my hand and rubs her forehead with two fingers. “I knew something was different, but I just couldn’t tell what.”

  “Is that you were grabbing my hand so tightly earlier as well?”

  She ignores the question and starts pacing around us, muttering to herself. Things like “it shouldn’t be possible,” and “what in the hells is happening,” over and over again.

  A thought occurs to me. “Where’s the centipede?”

  “Dead. Zyla said you killed it. But she insisted that you did it with—”

  “Aether,” Zyla says, cutting Kiren off. “I know what I saw.”

  “That’s not possible though.”

  Zyla stops pacing and turns to me again. She takes a deep breath and suddenly, her hands begin to brighten with the brilliant blue of Aether light. The light illuminates her veins through her skin. I back away slightly.

  “What are you—”

  “Here’s one way to prove it.”

  She clasps my hand and squeezes again. The blue light from her veins dims. And in turn, my own veins begin to glow a bright, unyielding azure.

  Suddenly, the fatigue is gone.

  I marvel at the strength of the Aether—the power it gives my body and bones. It’s not like when I enhance my limbs with lightning—when I do that, they feel explosive. With this, my form feels grounded. Sturdy and willing.

  I curl and uncurl my fist. The Aether makes a sound like roaring energy.

  Umbrahorn’s eyes widen.

  Kiren backs away, before sinking to his knees. “This—how are you—you don’t have an affinity for—”

  Saegor starts walking towards us, laughing, clapping his hands together in a way that reminds me an awful lot of the witch.

  But Saegor’s laughter isn’t filled with his usual, cathartic jubilation.

  There’s a hint of sadness. A touch of anger. A pinch of jealousy.

  He does well to mask it behind the sheer joy though.

  “Raiten, my my, you certainly have great timing!”

  What does he mean by that—

  Finally, I understand why the path is cobbled.

  Because when I look beyond the gap of trees that Saegor’s form was previously blocking, I spot the beginnings of a clearing. The luscious grass rises and falls across rolling hills in the bare sunlight.

  And in the distance, I can hear the low, rhythmic marching of men.

  Saegor seems to notice my gaze. He nods.

  “Its time to make good on your promise, soldier. Because we’ve finally done it.”

  I ignore the venom in his voice behind the word soldier and just stare at the scene ahead.

  These briars. They’ve shown me so much. Taken so much. But I’ve also grown. And I’ve taken my fair share back from them.

  And at the end of it all…

  Here I am.

  Here I remain.

  And here, I will make my stand.

  Saegor gestures to the clearing and winks at me.

  “Welcome to the Giant’s Glades.”